This Fanfiction is for my consumsion :3

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Jeong Ji-hoon adjusted his plain black hoodie for the third time, tugging the fabric lower over his designer jeans that he'd deliberately scuffed up last night with sandpaper. The twenty-four-year-old CEO of one of South Korea's fastest-growing tech startups stood outside Unkillable Legends PC Bang, clutching a worn backpack he'd borrowed from his younger cousin, trying to look like any other university student on a Tuesday afternoon.

This was ridiculous. Absolutely ridiculous.

He could be in his glass-walled office right now, approving the new AI integration his team had developed, or meeting with investors who were throwing money at him faster than he could count it. Instead, he was here, pretending to be a broke college kid, all because six months ago he'd stumbled into this PC bang during a rare moment of freedom and locked eyes with the most beautiful man he'd ever seen.

Lee Sang-hyeok. Faker. The legendary mid-laner who'd retired two years ago after his sixth World Championship win, cementing himself as the greatest League of Legends player of all time. And now he ran this cozy PC bang in Gangnam, serving ramyeon and maintaining computers with the same focused intensity he'd once applied to destroying opponents in the Rift.

Ji-hoon had been a fan since he was fifteen. He had posters had being the operative word, because he'd frantically taken them down from his penthouse apartment before anyone could see them and realize the truth. He'd watched every single one of Faker's games, had learned macro strategy by studying his rotations, had even modeled his own competitive drive after the way Faker approached League.

And now he was going to walk in there, sit down, and try to act normal.

You've negotiated with venture capitalists. You've given keynote speeches to thousands of people. You can handle talking to one retired pro gamer without making a fool of yourself.

The bell chimed as he pushed open the door.

"Welcome!" Sang-hyeok's voice carried from behind the counter, warm and slightly raspy. He looked up from his phone, and Ji-hoon's heart did that stupid fluttering thing it always did. At twenty-eight, Sang-hyeok had grown into his features sharp jawline, kind eyes behind thin-framed glasses, hair styled in a casual way that suggested he'd stopped caring about his appearance the moment he retired but somehow looked better for it.

He wore a simple black t-shirt with the PC bang's logo, and Ji-hoon wanted to scream at how unfair it was that someone could look that good in something so basic.

"Oh, you're back." Sang-hyeok smiled, recognizing him from his previous visits. "The usual spot?"

"Y-yeah," Ji-hoon managed, internally cringing at the stutter. Get it together, Jeong Ji-hoon. You're a CEO, not a teenager.

He'd been coming here for six months now, always during off-peak hours when he could slip away from work, always careful to maintain his cover as "Ji-hoon hyung," a university student studying business. Which wasn't technically a lie he had studied business, just… four years ago.

As he settled into his usual computer, Ji-hoon tried to focus on the game loading in front of him, but his attention kept drifting to Sang-hyeok, who was wiping down the counter with this adorable little furrow between his brows, like cleaning was a strategic objective that required complete concentration.

Operation: Make Faker Notice Me was not going well.

The problem was that Ji-hoon had absolutely no game. None. Zero. His last relationship had been in university, and it had ended because he'd been too focused on building his startup to actually, you know, be present. Since then, his romantic life had been a barren wasteland of awkward investor dinners and polite rejections.

But this was different. This was Faker. This was important.

"Ji-hoon-ssi?" Sang-hyeok's voice made him jump, and he turned to find the older man standing beside his station, holding a cup of coffee. "You've been staring at the loading screen for five minutes. Everything okay?"

"Yes! Fine! Great! Perfect!" Ji-hoon winced at his own excessive enthusiasm. Sang-hyeok's eyebrow quirked up in concern.

"Are you sick? Your face is really red."

Because you're standing close enough that I can smell your cologne and it's making my brain short-circuit.

"Just warm," Ji-hoon mumbled, accepting the coffee with shaking hands. "Thanks."

"It's on the house. You're one of my most regular customers." Sang-hyeok's smile was soft, genuine. "Actually, I've been meaning to ask you play mid lane, right? I've seen you practicing combos."

This was it. This was his chance.

"Yeah, I, uh… I really admire mid laners who have good macro sense." Ji-hoon tried to sound casual. "You know, the ones who can read the whole map, not just their lane."

"Ah, you mean like Faker?" Sang-hyeok's expression shifted into something fond and a little wistful.

Ji-hoon nearly choked on his coffee. "Y-you know Faker?"

The look Sang-hyeok gave him was part amused, part confused. "Everyone knows Faker. He's kind of a legend."

He doesn't realize I know. Play it cool. PLAY IT COOL.

"Right, right, of course. I just meant… do you follow the pro scene?" Ji-hoon was desperately trying to steer this conversation somewhere, anywhere, that might lead to Sang-hyeok revealing who he was, so Ji-hoon could then pretend to be shocked and impressed and maybe that would be a bonding moment and

"I used to," Sang-hyeok said, and there was something carefully neutral in his tone. "Not so much anymore. Too busy with this place."

He gestured around the PC bang, and Ji-hoon noticed the slight bags under his eyes, the tired set of his shoulders. Running a business was exhausting Ji-hoon knew that better than anyone but he suspected Sang-hyeok was doing it all himself, too proud or too independent to ask for help.

"Do you need help?" The words tumbled out before Ji-hoon could stop them.

Sang-hyeok blinked. "What?"

"I mean I'm studying business, so I know a bit about management and optimization and-" Ji-hoon was rambling now, his carefully maintained cover story falling apart under the weight of his desperate need to be useful, to be noticed, to be anything to this man. "I could help you with scheduling or inventory or marketing or literally anything, I just-"

"That's really sweet of you, Ji-hoon-ssi." Sang-hyeok's smile was gentle but firm, the kind of smile you gave to an eager puppy. "But I've got it handled. You should focus on your studies."

And just like that, Ji-hoon was dismissed. Gently, kindly, but dismissed nonetheless.

He watched Sang-hyeok walk back to the counter, and something in his chest ached.

The second-hand embarrassment hit during his third visit that week.

Ji-hoon had decided that subtlety wasn't working. If Sang-hyeok wasn't going to fall for his boyish charm (which, admittedly, he didn't have) or his offering of free business consultation (which had definitely made him sound like a desperate weirdo), then he needed a new approach.

He needed to be bold. Confident. Sexy.

He'd watched approximately fifteen YouTube videos on "how to flirt with an older man" and had come to the conclusion that what he needed was mystique. He needed to be intriguing. Enigmatic. The kind of person Sang-hyeok couldn't help but wonder about.

So when he walked into the PC bang that evening, he was wearing his best attempt at "casual but expensive" a cashmere sweater that had cost more than most people's monthly rent, paired with jeans he'd paid a stylist to help him choose. His hair was professionally styled to look deliberately unstyled. He'd even put on cologne.

Sang-hyeok looked up when the bell chimed, and his expression flickered through several emotions surprise, confusion, and something that might have been concern.

"Ji-hoon-ssi… did you have a job interview?"

No, I dressed up for you, you beautiful oblivious man.

"Just felt like looking nice today," Ji-hoon said, attempting what he hoped was a smoldering look as he leaned against the counter. He'd seen this move in a drama once. The male lead had done it, and the female lead had practically melted.

Sang-hyeok did not melt. He looked worried.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay? You've been acting strange lately."

Ji-hoon's confidence crumbled like a poorly executed tower dive. "I'm fine! Great! Just… experimenting with my style."

"Well, that sweater looks expensive. Be careful you don't spill anything on it." Sang-hyeok turned back to his computer, and Ji-hoon wanted to sink through the floor.

That went well, he thought sarcastically, slumping into his usual seat. Really smooth, Ji-hoon. Very mysterious and alluring.

But he couldn't give up. He wouldn't give up. Jeong Ji-hoon didn't become the youngest CEO of a unicorn startup by accepting defeat. He'd pivoted when his first business model failed. He'd adapted when investors said no. He could figure this out.

The problem was that every attempt seemed to make things worse.

There was the time he'd tried to impress Sang-hyeok by ordering the spiciest ramyeon on the menu and then spent fifteen minutes crying and chugging milk while Sang-hyeok watched with increasing alarm.

There was the time he'd attempted to casually mention that he "knew a bit about business strategy" and had accidentally launched into a full corporate analysis of the PC bang's market positioning that had made Sang-hyeok's eyes glaze over in confusion.

There was the truly mortifying incident where he'd tried to be helpful by fixing a computer issue and had somehow made it worse, forcing Sang-hyeok to spend an hour troubleshooting while Ji-hoon sat there wanting to disappear.

"You're really bad at this," his best friend Dohyun had said over the phone one night, after Ji-hoon had recounted his latest failed attempt at flirting which had involved trying to feed Sang-hyeok a piece of kimbap and somehow getting rice stuck in his own hair.

"I know!" Ji-hoon groaned, sprawled across his expensive couch in his expensive apartment, still wearing his CEO clothes because he'd come straight from work. "I don't know what to do. He thinks I'm some weird student who keeps having medical emergencies in his PC bang."

"Have you considered… just telling him the truth?"

"What truth? 'Hi, I'm actually a CEO and I've been lying to you for six months because I'm obsessed with you and I've been your fan since I was a teenager and I think you're the most incredible person I've ever met'? Yeah, that'll go over great."

"Better than whatever you're doing now."

Ji-hoon hung up.

The turning point came on a rainy Thursday evening.

Ji-hoon had given up on elaborate plans. He was just… tired. Tired of pretending, tired of failing, tired of the constant second-hand embarrassment that plagued his every interaction with Sang-hyeok. He'd had a brutal day at work a major investor had pulled out, one of his key engineers had quit, and he'd spent four hours in meetings trying to prevent his company from imploding.

He walked into the PC bang looking like exactly what he was: exhausted, soaked from the rain, and not in the mood to maintain his careful façade.

Sang-hyeok took one look at him and immediately came around the counter.

"Ji-hoon-ssi, you look terrible. Come on, let me get you a towel."

Ji-hoon was too tired to protest as Sang-hyeok guided him to a seat, disappeared into the back, and returned with a fluffy towel and a cup of hot chocolate.

"Bad day?" Sang-hyeok asked, his voice gentle as he handed over the towel.

"You could say that." Ji-hoon dried his hair, feeling some of the tension ease from his shoulders. "Sometimes I wonder if I'm cut out for… what I'm trying to do."

It was more honest than he'd been in months.

Sang-hyeok pulled up a chair beside him, and Ji-hoon's heart rate picked up despite his exhaustion. "School pressure?"

"Something like that." Ji-hoon stared at the hot chocolate. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Do you ever regret retiring? From… your previous career?" It was a risky question, one that pushed against his cover story, but he was too drained to care.

Sang-hyeok was quiet for a long moment. When Ji-hoon glanced over, he found the older man studying him with an unreadable expression.

"You know who I am," Sang-hyeok said. It wasn't a question.

Ji-hoon's entire body went cold. "I-"

"It's okay." Sang-hyeok's smile was small, a little sad. "I wondered if you did, but you never brought it up, so I thought maybe you just liked League and didn't follow the pro scene closely. But you wouldn't ask that question otherwise."

There was no point in denying it. "I've known since the first day. I… I was a fan. Am a fan. I watched all your games."

"And you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't want to make it weird. I wanted to get to know you as… as just a person. Not as Faker." Ji-hoon laughed bitterly. "Though I guess I made it plenty weird anyway with all my embarrassing attempts at-" He stopped, his face heating up as he realized what he'd almost admitted.

"Attempts at what?" Sang-hyeok leaned closer, and there was something new in his eyes curiosity, maybe, or amusement.

Well, I've already ruined everything. Might as well go all in.

"At getting you to notice me," Ji-hoon mumbled, staring at his hot chocolate like it held the secrets of the universe. "I've been trying to… I don't know. Impress you? Make you interested? I've been doing a terrible job of it."

The silence stretched out, and Ji-hoon wanted to bolt. This was it. This was where Sang-hyeok would politely tell him he was flattered but not interested, and Ji-hoon would have to find a new PC bang and probably move to a different country and change his name and-

"Ji-hoon-ssi."

He forced himself to look up.

Sang-hyeok was smiling not the polite customer-service smile or the concerned smile, but something warm and genuinely amused. "You've been flirting with me?"

"Unsuccessfully, yes."

"The spicy ramyeon incident?"

"Flirting."

"The business strategy lecture?"

"Very bad attempt at flirting."

"The time you tried to feed me kimbap?"

Ji-hoon covered his face with his hands. "Please stop."

Sang-hyeok laughed actually laughed and the sound was like sunlight breaking through clouds. "I thought you were just a really enthusiastic, slightly clumsy student who had a lot of opinions about PC bang management."

"I'm actually a CEO," Ji-hoon admitted, his voice muffled by his hands. "I've been lying about being a university student. I run a tech startup. I'm sorry for deceiving you."

"How old are you really?"

"Twenty-four."

"Huh." Sang-hyeok sounded thoughtful. "So all those times you offered to help with business strategy…"

"I actually know what I'm talking about. I just presented it in the worst possible way every single time." Ji-hoon finally lowered his hands, expecting to see judgment or anger, but Sang-hyeok just looked… fond?

"To answer your question," Sang-hyeok said, "no, I don't regret retiring. I gave everything to League for nearly a decade. I was burned out, exhausted, and I needed to find out who Lee Sang-hyeok was outside of being Faker. This PC bang it's simple, it's mine, and it makes me happy. Most days."

"The tired days too?"

"Even those." Sang-hyeok's smile softened. "Though I'll admit, having a very determined young CEO pretend to be a student just to visit my PC bang has made the past six months significantly more interesting."

Ji-hoon's face was on fire. "I can't believe you've known I was flirting."

"I didn't know! I genuinely thought you were just very awkward and possibly having some kind of ongoing medical crisis." Sang-hyeok reached out and gently pulled Ji-hoon's hands away from his face. "But now that I do know… I'm curious."

"About what?"

"About whether you'd like to get coffee sometime. As yourself. No pretending to be a student, no elaborate schemes. Just Ji-hoon the CEO, who apparently has been catastrophically bad at flirting with me."

Ji-hoon's brain short-circuited. "You… want to get coffee? With me?"

"I've thought you were cute since day one," Sang-hyeok admitted, and Ji-hoon made an undignified squeaking sound. "You always looked so serious when you played, like you were studying for an exam instead of gaming. And you were kind to the other customers, even when they were loud. I noticed."

"But I was so awkward!"

"You were endearing." Sang-hyeok stood up, pulling Ji-hoon to his feet. "And for what it's worth, I think the real Ji-hoon the tired CEO who shows up in the rain and admits when he's struggling is much more interesting than any persona you were trying to project."

Ji-hoon felt like his heart might burst. "I have a confession."

"Another one?"

"I had posters of you in my room when I was in high school. I took them down before anyone could know." He was fully committed to honesty now, no matter how embarrassing.

Sang-hyeok's delighted laugh filled the empty PC bang. "You're telling me the CEO who's been trying to rizz me up is secretly a fanboy?"

"Was a fanboy. Am a… respectful admirer of your professional achievements?" Ji-hoon tried, and Sang-hyeok laughed harder.

"Unbelievable. This is actually perfect." Sang-hyeok pulled out his phone. "Give me your real number. Not whatever fake student number you probably gave me."

As Ji-hoon typed his actual contact information CEO email and all he felt lighter than he had in months. No more pretending. No more elaborate schemes. Just honesty, and apparently, that was what had worked all along.

"So," Sang-hyeok said as he saved the number, "coffee this weekend? And you can tell me more about this tech startup. I'm curious what kind of company is run by someone who thought feeding me kimbap was a good flirting strategy."

"It worked in a drama I watched!"

"Ji-hoon-ssi."

"Yes?"

"Please never take romantic advice from dramas again."

"Deal."

The coffee date turned into dinner. Dinner turned into a long walk through Seoul at night, talking about everything Ji-hoon's startup, Sang-hyeok's journey from rookie to legend to business owner, their shared love of strategy and competition, their different approaches to handling pressure.

"You know what's funny?" Sang-hyeok said as they sat on a bench overlooking the Han River, the city lights reflected in the water. "I was so focused on not being Faker anymore that I forgot I was allowed to be interested in people who admired Faker. You reminded me that those years weren't something to hide from. They were part of me."

"I get that," Ji-hoon said. "Sometimes I'm so busy being CEO Ji-hoon that I forget I'm allowed to be just… Ji-hoon. The person who loves League and gets nervous around pretty men and makes terrible decisions when he's trying to impress someone."

"Pretty men?" Sang-hyeok's smile was teasing.

"You know you're gorgeous. Don't fish for compliments."

"I'm thirty-one."

"And?" Ji-hoon looked at him seriously. "Sang-hyeok-ssi, I've spent six months making a fool of myself because I couldn't think straight around you. Age has nothing to do with it. You're brilliant and kind and you built something meaningful after most people would have just coasted on their reputation. That's attractive. You're attractive."

Sang-hyeok was quiet for a moment, then reached over and took Ji-hoon's hand. "You know, for someone who claims to be bad at flirting, that was pretty smooth."

"I'm better when I'm not actively trying."

"I'll keep that in mind."

They sat in comfortable silence, hands linked, watching the river flow past. Ji-hoon thought about all the ridiculous things he'd done over the past six months the spicy ramyeon disaster, the awkward business lectures, the truly mortifying kimbap incident and realized he wouldn't change any of it.

"Sang-hyeok-ssi?"

"Mm?"

"I know this is really forward, but I need to tell you something."

Sang-hyeok turned to look at him, eyebrows raised. "After everything that's happened, I think we're past worrying about being forward."

Ji-hoon took a deep breath. "I don't just think you're attractive. I don't just admire you as a former player. I really, genuinely like you. As a person. I like how focused you get when you're solving problems. I like how you remember regular customers' usual orders. I like that you retired at the peak of your career because you knew what you needed, even though everyone thought you were crazy. I like you."

He braced himself for rejection, for Sang-hyeok to gently let him down, to say this was all too fast or too much or-

Sang-hyeok kissed him.

It was soft and sweet and tasted like the coffee they'd shared earlier, and when they pulled apart, Ji-hoon's brain had completely stopped functioning.

"I like you too, Ji-hoon-ah," Sang-hyeok said, using the informal name for the first time, and Ji-hoon's heart did three backflips. "You're ridiculous and endearing and way too young to be running a company, but you're also genuine in a way that's rare. I'd like to see where this goes."

"Really?"

"Really. Though I have one condition."

"Anything."

"No more elaborate schemes. If you want to impress me, just be yourself. The real you is much better than any persona you could create."

Ji-hoon nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "I can do that. Though fair warning, the real me is going to want to help optimize your PC bang's operations."

"The real me might actually take you up on that," Sang-hyeok admitted. "I've been struggling with inventory management."

"See, we're perfect for each other. You need business help, I need someone to teach me better mid lane rotations."

"Deal." Sang-hyeok stood up, pulling Ji-hoon with him. "Come on, let me walk you home. And this time, you can tell me about where you actually live instead of that fake student apartment you probably made up."

As they walked through Seoul together, Ji-hoon's hand in Sang-hyeok's, he reflected on the absurdity of the past six months. He'd thought he needed to be someone else to catch Sang-hyeok's attention someone cooler, more mysterious, less obviously head-over-heels.

But in the end, what had worked was just being honest. Being vulnerable. Being himself.

"Hey, Ji-hoon-ah?"

"Yeah?"

"For the record, I think it's adorable that you had posters of me."

Ji-hoon groaned, but he was smiling. "You're never going to let me live that down, are you?"

"Never," Sang-hyeok confirmed cheerfully. "I'm going to bring it up at every opportunity. It's too good."

And somehow, even though he was being mercilessly teased by his idol-turned-boyfriend, Ji-hoon had never been happier.

The next morning, when Ji-hoon showed up at the PC bang this time in his actual CEO clothes because he had a meeting afterward Sang-hyeok took one look at him in his tailored suit and power tie and said, "Okay, that's unfairly hot. The student look was cute, but this is doing things to me."

Ji-hoon preened. "Yeah?"

"Don't let it go to your head."

Too late. Ji-hoon's head was in the stratosphere.

As he settled in at his usual computer now officially his computer since Sang-hyeok had put a little reserved sign on it that said "CEO's Seat" Ji-hoon pulled up his company's Slack to check on the morning's emergencies.

"You know," Sang-hyeok said, bringing over coffee, "I Googled you last night."

Ji-hoon's typing froze. "Oh no."

"'Jeong Ji-hoon, youngest CEO to achieve unicorn status in Korean tech,'" Sang-hyeok read from his phone. "'Revolutionary AI integration platform, valued at over 500 billion won.'" He looked up. "You're kind of a big deal."

"I was going to tell you-"

"I know. I'm just giving you a hard time." Sang-hyeok set down the coffee and leaned against the desk. "Though I have to say, knowing you're actually incredibly successful makes all those awkward business strategy lectures make a lot more sense."

"I really do know what I'm talking about!"

"I believe you. Which is why I'm officially taking you up on your offer to help with the PC bang." Sang-hyeok's expression turned serious. "I've been thinking about expanding, maybe opening a second location, but I don't know if it's viable. Would you… would you be willing to look at the numbers with me? As a consultant, or a partner, or a boyfriend who's way too overqualified for this?"

Ji-hoon's smile was so wide it hurt his face. "I would love nothing more. Though fair warning, I'm going to have a lot of opinions."

"I'm counting on it."

As Sang-hyeok walked back to the counter, Ji-hoon caught himself just staring, completely smitten, and he didn't even care.

Six months of elaborate schemes, embarrassing failures, and catastrophic flirting attempts had led him here: sitting in his favorite PC bang, drinking coffee made by his boyfriend (BOYFRIEND!), about to help optimize the business operations of the greatest League of Legends player of all time.

Jeong Ji-hoon, CEO, former fanboy, and current disaster at romance, had somehow managed to get exactly what he wanted.

He pulled out his phone and texted Dohyun: I told him everything and he kissed me. I have a boyfriend. FAKER IS MY BOYFRIEND.

The response came immediately: Congratulations on finally being honest. Only took you six months of mortifying yourself.

Worth it, Ji-hoon typed back, glancing over at Sang-hyeok, who was helping a customer with a computer issue, his face set in that focused expression Ji-hoon loved.

Completely worth it.

Three months later, Unkillable Legends PC Bang had expanded to two locations, both running at optimal efficiency thanks to Ji-hoon's ruthless optimization protocols and Sang-hyeok's understanding of what gamers actually wanted. They'd been featured in a gaming magazine as "the PC bang revolutionizing the industry," and Ji-hoon had nearly cried when he saw Sang-hyeok's proud smile at the article.

"You know," Sang-hyeok said one night as they closed up the original location together, "I never thought I'd be dating someone who gets more excited about profit margins than League of Legends."

"I get excited about both," Ji-hoon protested. "It's not my fault you're dating a nerd."

"You run a tech company. I'm dating the CEO of a tech company. I knew what I was signing up for." Sang-hyeok pulled Ji-hoon close, and Ji-hoon melted into the embrace.

"Hey, Sang-hyeok?"

"Mm?"

"Thank you. For giving me a chance even after I spent six months being the most awkward person alive."

Sang-hyeok laughed, pressing a kiss to Ji-hoon's temple. "Thank you for being brave enough to be awkward. And for being yourself. The real you is my favorite."

Ji-hoon's heart swelled. "You're such a sap."

"Only for you."

And as they locked up the PC bang, hands linked, walking out into the Seoul night together, Ji-hoon thought about how glad he was that he'd walked into this place six months ago. How glad he was that he'd failed so spectacularly at being cool and mysterious.

Because being real being honest, vulnerable, and catastrophically in love had gotten him something no amount of elaborate schemes ever could have:

Lee Sang-hyeok's heart.

And that was worth every single embarrassing moment.