Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

我就知道自己看见你时

善于说谎

-魏如萱 《四月是适合说谎的日子》

I already believed, when you came into my sight,

I’d turn into a great liar

-Waa Wei “April, Good for Lying”

───────✧❁✧───────

A perfect sunset was difficult to come by, especially in the city.

But tonight Soobin had one at his fingertips, the beauty of it completely wasted on him. He didn’t care for the sunset, or the perfect summer twilight, or the alluring scent of fried sweets in the air.

His date’s efforts towards conversation were similarly lost on him, although it was no fault of hers. Her hand was small and delicate, enveloped in his own, and she spoke of all the things she thought would interest him. Her voice was nice to listen to, melted perfectly into the pleasant din of the crowd.

In fact, he knew the blame fell on him. He swore after the last date went horrendously similar to this that he would stop trying. It was a lost cause. He was a lost cause. And at thirty-two years old, with no successful relationship under his belt, he should simply accept what the world was trying to tell him.

But it became addicting. Like gambling, even though he never won. Women liked him. Found him attractive enough to look past his lack of interest. Would endure hours of painstaking conversation because he looked every bit the picture of their fantasy man. Tall, classically handsome, and well-educated, of course he was a natural pick.

Besides, single women his age thought he was their last chance. Only so many attractive men were left in their thirties, best to snap him up now.

Of course, it never worked like that. He barely ever made it past the first date.

The woman with him now was a co-worker. Maybe that should’ve been the first sign tonight’s outing was destined to fail. Yang Minju. She was smart and beautiful, a well-liked teacher at the high school they both taught at. He had known her for over three years now, had become good enough friends through work, and after all that time of dodging her stares and subtle hints, he finally decided to give up and take her out just for the hell of it, even though he knew better than to mix work with relationships.

That was their current topic of conversation.

"I do wish they’d consider changing third period to something less…well, to something the students wouldn’t pay attention to anyway," she sighed. "They always just sleep right through to lunch."

Soobin didn’t reply- at this point, she didn’t expect him to. It became apparent early on that he wouldn’t be saying much. Fortunately, she knew he wasn’t the talkative type. Instead, he let his gaze wander, examining the game stalls and rides that made up the maze of the amusement park. She was the one who suggested they go- he thought it a bit childish, but didn’t care enough to suggest anywhere else.

Kids raced around, trailed by haphazard parents, and teenagers moved in loud groups from one place to another.

In the narrow alleys separating stalls, even more teenagers huddled, laughing too obviously at each other’s jokes and talking about illicit topics they didn’t really understand. Youth was exactly the way Soobin remembered- some things never changed.

Soobin’s eyes slipped past them, past the lights and multicolored fabrics, until they landed on a pastel pink stall. Warm holiday lights lined the edges, making it look soft and inviting. Plush toys dangled from the ceiling and lined the back wall. Colored glass bottles stood lined up on a platform. A simple ring toss game.

A boy leaned against the counter, elbows propped up and seemingly engrossed in his phone. Business was slow, and he didn’t seem to care less. His nails were chaotically painted black and white, drawing attention to where they frantically tapped at his screen, and capturing it like a Fraser spiral.

However, in a simple twist of fate, he glanced up just as Soobin’s gaze landed on him, and for the first time that night, Soobin realized just how beautiful the sunset was.

The flood of orange peeking out just over the high rises lining the park tinged the edges of the boy’s messy black hair, giving him a glowing, hazy halo, and making his knitted blue sweater-vest pop. It was his eyes, though, that drew Soobin in, captivating him for a moment in time. Sharp and intelligent, like a cat’s, framed by a light sultry shadow; he held Soobin’s gaze and wouldn't release him.

He didn’t even feel in control of his own body as he tugged on his date’s hand, pulling her towards the stall. "Do you want a souvenir?" he managed to ask, a good enough excuse, and she seemed too caught off guard to wonder where his sudden interest came from.

It was the first time he’d really done anything gentlemanly all night, and her hope for the evening was rekindled, so she gladly agreed with a cute giggle. "If you think you can win me one."

As they approached the stall, the boy set his phone aside and smiled at them. His lips were pink and full. A red lollipop was stuck in his mouth. Much too suggestive for a boy, especially for one who couldn’t be more than nineteen. A strange feeling stirred in his chest, one that both terrified and enraptured him.

Oh, Soobin was heading into dangerous territory now.

"Evening!" the boy greeted them, straightening up to his full height. He was tall, in a slender, graceful way, voice higher, more nasal than Soobin expected. "Interested in playing a round?"

His eyes never left Soobin, and he got the distinct impression this boy knew exactly what the older man was thinking about him. Odd, or maybe intuitive, considering Soobin wasn’t even sure what he was thinking himself.

"Sure," Soobin replied, trying to look anywhere but the boy and the bulge in his soft cheek from the candy. The warm lights made his skin glow.

With a charming smile, the boy said, "Sweet, that’ll be five thousand won for one round."

As Soobin took out his wallet, the boy set up the game. He looked a bit too expensive for the carnival, with his white collared shirt and blue knit combo, and heavy silver jewelry. Maybe working there was just a hobby.

In an attempt to ignore whatever curious sensation this boy evoked in him, Soobin turned his attention to his date. "Which one do you want?" He tried to make his voice soft, a little teasing, and the shy smile on her face told him he’d succeeded.

"If you win, hmm…" She examined the array of plush toys. "Maybe that one?" Her finger pointed towards a medium-sized yellow bear with a heart on its white stomach. It was cute.

"You’ve got it," Soobin said with a smile.

A little laugh came from inside the stall; the boy had his back turned to them, busy with the game, but there was no one else who would have made the sound. It was a bit derisive, the way teenagers sound when they think they know something that you don’t, but don’t want to say anything, either. Soobin had heard it enough in his classroom.

Still, he didn’t think his date caught it. She was too enamored by the fact that Soobin was finally paying proper attention to her.

The game itself was easy enough- in fact, Soobin had a suspicion that the boy rigged it in his favor because all three rings landed on the first toss without fail. His date squealed and clapped, praising his carnival game prowess, but it didn’t feel like an earned victory to Soobin. Not with the way the boy watched him from the corner of the stall, sucking on his lollipop with that irritating superior look on his face. His eyes were telling enough- it was like the boy wanted both Soobin and his date to make fools of themselves, her praising Soobin for something a child could have accomplished, and Soobin accepting every compliment with a bashful smile and the excuse of "It’s easier with long arms."

However, just as the boy went to retrieve her prize, Minju’s phone began ringing in her pocket. She gave him an apologetic look as she drew it out, sighing, “It’s my mother, she said she’d call if the landlord came by to fix our sink. I’ll only be a moment.”

Soobin gave her a small smile. She’d mentioned an hour ago that her mother might call. “No worries, take your time.” He said it even as he considered whether or not he really wanted her to go. What would he do with himself? He certainly couldn’t stay here and chat with the game attendant.

But she was already walking away, giving him a slight wave as she answered, “Yes, hello?”

Just as Soobin decided it would be better to walk away and busy himself for the next few minutes, he accidentally made eye contact with the boy, who had been watching their exchange this entire time.

"Aw, that poor girl," the boy sighed as soon as she was out of earshot.

"What do you mean?" Soobin asked sharply, but the attendant just shrugged, wearing a sly smile as he turned to reset the game.

"I just think it’s a shame. She doesn’t know she’s wasting her time."

He still spoke with that superior tone, acting like he knew something everyone else didn’t. It irritated Soobin to no end.

"On what?"

The boy turned, bracing his hands against the table so he could lean his weight back on it like a lazy cat, looking perfectly at ease. "I shouldn’t have to spell it out for you, mister."

He talked around the candy in his mouth, incredibly disrespectful. Not in the way where he seemed like he simply hadn’t been taught proper manners, but very clearly in the way where he knew what he was doing was impolite, and chose not to care, which Soobin found even more offensive than the former.

His implication was clear, but annoyed him more. "It’s not like that."

The boy rolled his eyes. "Of course it’s not."

"Listen, kid-"

"Ooh, I wouldn’t do that," the boy said with a wince, but his eyes sparkled with mischief.

"What now?" Soobin's voice grew taut, his short temper becoming more evident the longer they talked.

"Call me ‘kid.’ If you’re going to stare at me like you want to bend me over the counter, it sounds a bit inappropriate, doesn’t it?"

It didn’t help Soobin’s case that he was at a complete loss for words, and could only continue to stare, mouth agape in shock. Finally, drawing on his teaching experience, he shut his mouth and mustered a stern, "You shouldn’t even joke about things like that."

The boy was quick to counter- authority figures must hate him. "Who says I’m joking? You could try to be less obvious, sir," he drew the word out like an insult. "It’s a shock your date hasn’t caught on that you don’t even like girls."

Never in Soobin’s life had he been accused of such a thing, had never even allowed himself to contemplate the possibility even though it loomed over him with an impending immutability the older he got, and a vicious mix of anger and fear rose in him. "That’s a lie. Do you go around accusing all of your customers of strange shit?"

The boy’s sharp eyes hardened. Rather than make him look less attractive, however, he just became more coldly elegant. The kind of expression a boy his age shouldn’t have learned yet. "Don’t be ridiculous."

"Then don’t say such ridiculous things."

Why he was wasting his breath arguing with a teenager about his sexuality, Soobin had no idea.

"You’d probably be happier if you could just admit it," the boy muttered, and broke their stare to cut the yellow bear down from the ceiling, giving Soobin a view of his back. He tried not to look, tried not to take in his pretty silhouette with his tucked in shirts and slim, studded black jeans.

His wandering eyes were betraying him. He had to blink, focus on the wall past the attendant.

"Why do you feel like it’s any of your business?" Soobin asked coldly.

When the boy glanced back, his eyes were playful again. He knew Soobin had been looking. Maybe he had wanted him to. This was a boy who knew entirely too much for not seeming to care about anything. "Because no straight, sexually satisfied, adult man looks at other boys like that. I’m just trying to help."

Soobin scoffed, perhaps too cruel, but he knew help was the last thing on this kid’s mind. "Even if I did swing that way, which I don’t, you’re far too young for me."

If he said it out loud, acknowledged he was treading extremely dubious waters, it officially made the boy off limits.

"A handsome man like you?" the boy mused, holding the bear in his arms. "Can't be more than twenty-five, right?"

Slightly flattered, Soobin took the prize from him. He wasn’t flattered enough to lie. "Wrong. By about seven years."

The boy just shrugged. "What difference does it make, really?"

A world of difference.

"How old are you?"

The boy didn’t waver as he answered vaguely, "Old enough."

"No, I mean it. Give me a number."

After a second’s hesitation, the boy said, "Seventeen."

Not old enough, he thought, internally panicking. Not nearly old enough.

"Does it change your mind?" the boy asked, leaning against the counter so they were only a breath apart.

Soobin hadn’t even decided anything.

His eyes were beautiful, utterly mesmerizing, like stained glass windows. Glossy and dark, shining with the curiosity of youth that turned everything into magic.

"It should," he replied quietly.

Then, looking as though he’d won, the boy hummed, "Oh? I thought you didn’t swing that way?"

Snarky little-

"I don’t," Soobin said sharply, regaining his composure. He accidentally let the boy captivate him and make him say things he didn’t mean. His eyes were hypnotic. Gathering up the bear, he made to leave, but the boy stopped him with a light hand on his shoulder.

Soobin roughly shook him off, giving him a sharp look, but the boy seemed unfazed, tucking his hands in his pockets as if to say Relax, I won’t do it again.

"You sure you don’t want to play one more round?" He glanced at the toys hanging behind him. "I think the bunny is pretty cute."

A little blue stuffed rabbit was on display in the very center of the wall. Maybe if Soobin just played along, the boy and his strange convictions would leave him alone.

"Fine," he conceded, and put another five thousand on the counter. "One more round."

It was even easier to win than the first time. All three rings landed perfectly on his first try, and Soobin suspected the boy had set the bottles up closer to the edge of the table.

"Looks like you won," he purred, unhooking the toy to take it down.

"It doesn’t feel like it," Soobin muttered. But when the boy tried to hand him the toy, he pushed it back into his arms. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he felt compelled to do it anyway. "Keep it. You think it’s cute, right?"

The boy blinked, caught off guard for the first time since they’d spoken. After a second of hesitation, though, he nodded, and wrapped his arms around the bunny. "Thanks."

His voice sounded soft and pretty when he wasn’t accusing Soobin of being a predator. "Sure," he replied. Before he could think of a way to escape without accidentally getting the boy’s name, the universe finally took pity on him, and his date came jogging back towards the stall, placing her hand on his arm.

"I’m so sorry about that!" She sounded genuinely apologetic, too, which only served to make Soobin feel more sorry for himself. Here he was having a moral dilemma over the fact that this seventeen year old boy interested him more than any girl he’s ever taken out, and she was sorry for making him wait five minutes.

"It’s no problem," he said, managing to conjure up a sweet smile, linking their arms together, and she positively melted. "Should we go see how the line is for the ferris wheel?"

"I’d love to," she breathed, then turned to wave at the boy. "Thanks for keeping him company, kid, have a good night!"

The boy matched her smile, although his masked a taunt. His earlier words rang through Soobin’s head: That poor girl. "Please, it was my pleasure. I hope you two enjoy the rest of your evening."

They did enjoy the rest of their evening. His date led him around the amusement park, taking him everywhere that interested her, laughing at his attempted jokes, and avoiding any work-related discussion. And he did everything within his power to keep his thoughts from wandering to the boy at the ring toss booth, even if it meant throwing himself whole-heartedly into conversation and flirting more than he’d ever flirted before.

When they were standing on the sidewalk outside the park, waiting for the taxi Soobin had called, he almost considered the evening a victory. He just had to see his date home, wish her a good night, and leave it at that. He would refuse her invitation inside like he always did, and he wouldn’t ever take her out again, but she didn’t have to know just yet. As far as all of his awful dates went, this one wasn’t so bad.

The one minor hiccup was far gone from his mind. Or it was until Soobin heard a familiar voice shout out, "Shut up!" and a muffled giggle came from farther down the street.

He didn’t want to look. Yet his gaze cast down the sidewalk anyways, until he spotted a huddle of teenagers laughing together and shoving each other around. A light blue sweater caught his attention, the boy standing in the center of the group, joking about one thing or another. The sun had fully set by now, but the group huddled under a street light, and it reflected off the boy’s jewelry making him impossible to miss.

When he twisted to grab at the arm of one of his friends, another flash caught Soobin's eye, drawing his gaze to the bag slung over his shoulder. A little blue bunny ear poked out of it, and stuck on the front was a pin bearing a familiar green leaf insignia. The symbol for Sungho’s All Boys Prep School. It was a private high school in the city that offered competitive academies on campus. Wealthy families paid millions of won a year to send their sons there, away from the distraction of girls that might inhibit their studying. Soobin had a friend who taught at the school for years, and was planning to retire at the end of this semester.

In fact, he had offered to refer Soobin as his replacement. The salary far exceeded the one he was making now, but the atmosphere sounded stifling, so he’d avoided giving his friend a straight answer when he brought it up and said he’d think about it.

However, now his interest had been rekindled. For completely the wrong reasons, of course, but maybe the boy’s pin was a sign that he should take the job. It could be good for him. He’d certainly benefit from the extra income. And it would make the awkward aftermath of this date far easier to deal with, considering he wouldn’t be returning come the new term.

“Oh, I think this is us!” his date said, jolting him back to reality. “Black Hyundai, right?”

He tore his gaze away from the group of teenagers and watched the car approaching them. “Yes, I think that’s the one. Let’s go.” He looped his arm through hers, pulling her close as the car lined up with the curb.

He must be going insane. There was no other explanation for all of the irrational thoughts plaguing him in one night.

But there is logic to it, he mentally argued with himself in the car. If you leave the boy out of the equation, which you absolutely must, it still makes sense to take the job offer.

It would be good for him. A welcome change of pace. Something new to get him out of the dreadfully dull routine he’d been stuck in for the past seven years.

In the car, he set a reminder to contact his friend in the morning and invite him out for a cup of coffee.

───────✧❁✧───────

Only so many strange coincidences could pile up before one had to accept that their destiny was subject to the whims of something greater than themselves.

As a non-spiritual person, Soobin could look past his first encounter with the boy, the fact that he studied at the same school he’d been offered a job at, and therefore inspired his move. Coincidences happened. This was a fact.

However, when the new term started a full month later and the boy was sitting in the back corner of Soobin’s freshly acquired classroom, he struggled not to simply surrender. Coincidence only applied so much.

Soobin hadn’t noticed him at first, too focused on finalizing his lesson plans to pay much attention to the students who were always rowdy after a short break. Typically, he let them get out their energy on the first day, otherwise they’d never sit still. A classroom full of boys was even more high-energy, and so, he could be lenient. But one group of boys were particularly loud, laughing and shouting as though they were still on holiday, and drew a sharp look from Soobin.

He noticed the boy from the amusement park first. He sat at his desk, one long leg crossed over the other, tie loose and two lines of silver hoops decorating his ears that surely weren’t up to dress code, but he clearly expected to get away with it, and Soobin knew he would. A pen spun between his fingers, the first hint of nervous energy in a student. His face, void of the smoky makeup look he’d been sporting at the park, looked far more young and innocent, cheeks round and eyes soft.

This change in appearance didn’t spell good things for him. Innocence was the last look he needed the student to wear.

Another boy perched on his desk, hands in his pockets. His uniform was crisp and ironed, tie drawn up tightly, although his hair looked slightly overgrown. It hung in his big eyes and framed his already sharp jaw. He was shorter than the other student, but had a more masculine, developed presence. He didn’t smile as easily as the others.

Across from them a third boy stood, leaning against his desk and saying something that made the other two burst out into laughter. His hair was cut short and round, and he had a look of mischief in his eyes. Instantly, Soobin knew he’d be trouble. It was always easy to pick out the troublemaker on the first day. And they were always twice as difficult to subdue when they were popular with the other students, which this boy clearly seemed to be.

The student from the amusement park was watching Soobin now; he must’ve seen him come in just a few moments ago. Maybe he had been watching him this whole time. He already knew. Still, his eyes betrayed nothing, just a cool curiosity which could be mistaken for nothing more than sizing up a new teacher.

Most of the other students were already seated and they followed his line of sight to the rowdy group in the back.

"You three," Soobin’s voice cut across the room, clear and stern. The boys silenced immediately, glancing at him. "In your seats."

His tone left no room for argument. The clean-cut boy quickly took the seat in front of his friend, while the troublemaker pursed his lips -maybe Soobin had interrupted another joke- but sat as well. Still, he leaned over to whisper something in the ears of his friends, who both chuckled under their breath. Generously, Soobin decided to let it slide for now.

He gave a brief self-introduction, and explained he was their previous teacher’s replacement, before quickly taking attendance. Down the list, he found out the troublemaker’s name, Choi Beomgyu, class rank 6, and made a mental note to keep a strict eye on him. To his surprise, Choi Beomgyu also had the title Class President listed beside his name. Soobin had no idea how that might have happened, but resolved to not pass judgement quite yet.

When he got to one name in particular, rank 4, he had to pause again. "Choi Yeonjun?"

The boy from the amusement park lifted his hand. A thin silver ring decorated his middle finger. "Present."

Soobin only allowed his gaze to linger a second longer than was necessary; just enough to let the boy -Yeonjun- know he remembered him, and no, he wasn’t imagining things.

Just as he made to glance back down at his roster, Yeonjun winked. Far less subtle, but he received the message loud and clear: the boy recognized him as well, and wanted him to know it. Perhaps he shouldn’t have given away so much.

Rank 1 was, again to his surprise, the other boy in their little group, Kang Taehyun, who looked quite serious now that class had begun. He had shining, deer-like eyes that made Soobin feel as though he was being watched, and he made another mental note to be extra cautious around him. His little exchange with Yeonjun was already incredibly conspicuous.

Then again, he hadn’t done anything wrong. And he didn’t plan to, no matter what fate had in store for him.

On the first day of a new term, Soobin typically liked to ask his students to write about what they did over their short holiday. It felt less like an assignment to the students and allowed him to get to know each of them a little bit.

He gave the assignment in the morning, and during the lunch break, he decided to read and grade them all since it helped pass the time.

Most were mundane. Kang Taehyun studied for the new term and competed in an athletics tournament. He had a knack with words however, so reading his paper felt less dull than usual.

Very succinctly, Kim Jinsung described how he went to Australia with his family and watched a soccer game. He could have benefitted from a few more paragraphs. Most of his students fell into this category- plenty of good source material but not enough care put into it.

On the other side of things, Choi Beomgyu wrote nearly three pages about how he laid in bed and played video games, deviating from the topic several times to talk about something completely unrelated, from his mother’s cooking, to the pigeon that sits on the telephone wire across from his bedroom every day around noon, to the new cactus he bought and knew he couldn’t take care of. Soobin found it slightly charming, and gave him points for effort, considering how long he’d written.

When he came to Choi Yeonjun’s paper, he found himself reading more eagerly than he should. The student described, not his amusement park job like Soobin expected, but a dance competition that he’d taken part in. Apparently he was a member of the school’s dance academy. Not only that, but he was their representative leader, and it seemed as though this competition had been weighing on him quite heavily. He was also a better writer than Soobin expected, injecting feeling and motion into his words in a way that could paint pictures in a reader’s head. Through his paper, Soobin felt his anxiety, his determination to perform well, his relief when it was over, and his triumph when his school placed first. He managed to capture his doubt, his desperation, and his pride in a way that felt wholly human and relatable.

If dancing wasn’t a viable career, he would make an excellent writer.

Just as Soobin began marking his paper, the door opened, and he looked up to see Choi Yeonjun himself leaning against the frame.

“The hour isn’t over yet, Yeonjun-ssi. Did you forget something?”

Instead of answering him, Yeonjun glanced at the paper in his hands, then asked, “Did you like it?”

Soobin set his paper aside and leaned back in his chair. “Yes, actually. Quite a lot. You have a talent for writing.”

Yeonjun looked skeptical, a curious furrow in his brow. “I don’t like writing. My mom’s a writer. I mean, kind of. She writes and publishes cookbooks for fun.”

Oh, to be rich and write cookbooks for fun. This boy had no idea what the real world was like.

“You don’t like writing because your mother is a writer?”

“No. I just don’t like it.” Yeonjun shrugged.

Soobin raised an eyebrow but chose not to push him further on the subject. It wasn’t really his business. “Did you need something, Yeonjun-ssi?”

“Mhm. Beomgyu left his coat.” As he spoke, he walked down the aisle and retrieved said coat, throwing it over his shoulder. “You know, I almost wrote about something different,” Yeonjun remarked when he was at the door, turning back.

“And what would that be?”

Yeonjun’s eyes sparkled, regaining that mischief he wore when they first met. “The handsome older man who tried to pick me up at my summer job. It was quite the story, with all the twists and turns considering I wasn’t even supposed to be working that night, and just happened to pick up a shift for a friend. It was funny, too, since the man pretended to be homophobic and then stared at my ass every time I turned around. He even won me a prize. A souvenir, just like the one he got for his date.”

“I think you may have misconstrued some events in your head,” Soobin replied coolly.

Ignoring him, Yeonjun drew closer, a wicked smile on his lips. “I would have written about it, but I thought it was a bit risque for the first day. Then again, we’re supposed to write for our audience, right? I think my audience would’ve liked the story, once it was complete.”

Soobin rose to his feet, chair quietly rolling away. “I told you to write an informative passage based on actual events. Not a fantasy you made up in your head that takes inspiration from something that may or may not have really happened.”

Yeonjun’s mouth formed a dangerous pout as he asked, “Are you calling me delusional, sir? Because the way I remember it, everything I mentioned was based on an actual event. It’s not my fault if someone else doesn’t see it the same way I do.”

A strange, harsh desire to punish him possessed Soobin, and he found himself instructing, “Stop talking nonsense. You will wait out the rest of the lunch period in your seat, completely silent. You clearly need to learn when it’s appropriate to speak, and when it’s best to remain quiet. Leave your phone on my desk, you can retrieve it at the end of the day.”

Yeonjun stared, looking delightfully aggrieved. Soobin quite liked that stunned expression on his face.

“Go,” he said firmly when Yeonjun didn’t move.

In a huff, Yeonjun tossed his cell phone down on Soobin’s desk and strode over to his own seat. Both his arms and legs were crossed, and he refused to look anywhere but straight out the window, leaving Soobin to his grading.

It eased some of his headache, knowing Yeonjun was right in front of him, unable to torment his thoughts because Soobin could see his pretty, frustrated face whenever he glanced up from his work. It was better this way. In fact, he would find more reasons to put Yeonjun in detention if it weren’t such a blatant abuse of power.

When the rest of the students returned, they all spared Yeonjun a glance as they came through the door, obviously noticing his sulking. As soon as Choi Beomgyu and Kang Taehyun arrived, they beelined for him, Beomgyu loudly proclaiming, “Dude, you missed it, Jinsung and Woomin were about to fight in the courtyard. Mr. Kim made them break it up, though, but I think-”

“Have you been here this whole time?” Taehyun interrupted, frowning as he looked Yeonjun over.

The student shot Soobin a positively filthy glance, indicating that he was done with his punishment, before muttering to Taehyun, “My stomach started hurting so I decided to stay inside.”

“You should go to the nurse,” Beomgyu immediately decided. “We’ll take you to the nurse.” And before Yeonjun could even reply, his hand shot up.

Slightly amused, Soobin called on him. “Beomgyu-ssi?”

“Yeonjun isn’t feeling well, can Taehyun and I escort him to the nurse?”

“One of you can take him to the nurse. I see no reason why both of you would need to go.”

“I’m not feeling well, too,” Beomgyu quickly countered. “So Taehyun should really just escort both of us.”

Taehyun shot his friend a look, clearly not wanting to be dragged into it.

“Why don’t you and Yeonjun-ssi escort each other to the nurse, then?”

Beomgyu looked at Taehyun, giving him a non-subtle hint to do his part. It was a bit funny, the way he flashed his big puppy eyes, and his friend immediately caved with a sigh.

“Sir, I’m not feeling well, either,” Taehyun recited, as if it were a line out of a textbook.

And purely for their dedication, Soobin shook his head and relented. “Go, then. Be back within the hour, I’ll be calling if I don’t see you.” The trio quickly scurried out of their seats, bags slung over their shoulders as they headed out the door. Not a single ounce of him believed they were really going to the nurse, at least they wouldn’t for a while, but at this point, he didn’t care. He had actual teaching to do, and his job was made easier every time Choi Beomgyu and Choi Yeonjun weren’t in the room, for very different reasons.

───────✧❁✧───────

“You’re settling in well, I hope?” the headmaster inquired at the end of Soobin’s first week, hands steepled on his desk. Soobin had met him briefly during his interview process, but they hadn’t really had time to chat. Jung Wooseok may have been getting up in years, but he certainly didn’t look it. With a steely sharp gaze and hair still raven black, he felt a bit too intense for Soobin’s liking.

At his last school, the principal was relaxed and easygoing, and rarely inquired into the teachers’ personal affairs, but it seemed like things ran differently at a private academy.

As if he could read his mind, the headmaster said, “I’m sure it’s all taking a bit to get used to, having taught in the public sector for so long. For anyone who wants a real career, though, this is certainly the place to be.”

After a few weeks of being around the upper class, Soobin began to notice that wealthy people had a habit of saying trivializing things about others without ever realizing what they were saying could be offensive. It was more ignorance than malintent, but it still rubbed him the wrong way whenever he heard it. Even the students were the same, making remarks about the middle class that came off as snobbish and rude while their intentions usually were anything but.

“I think I’m starting to gain my footing,” Soobin answered politely.

The headmaster smiled, although it didn’t reach his eyes. “How lovely. We don’t have many transfers, you know. Many of our staff are alumni themselves. I’d say you’re quite lucky to have known Han Doyoung-ssi.”

Soobin dipped his head, and clenched his teeth behind a smile. “He’s a good friend. I’m thankful to him for pointing me towards this opportunity.”

Largely ignoring what he said, the headmaster went on. “So, what do you think of our programs? How do they compare to the public sector?”

Did he really call Soobin down to his office just to make him compliment his expensive curriculum? He only had one free period apart from lunch when the students’ English tutor stepped in, and he liked to spend it grading. This felt like quite a huge waste of time, if he was being completely honest.

“I think for students that are looking for a direct path to university, this academy is a great option,” he answered without getting too specific. He didn’t want to be here much longer.

Clearly disappointed with his lackluster response, the headmaster pushed, “Certainly you’ve found something you like.”

An innocent question, yet it somehow felt like a threat to him. Oh, yes, he’d found something he liked. But one could argue that he came here in search of it, more following than discovering. Either way, Soobin didn’t think they had the same sort of thing in mind.

“I think the resources provided to encourage success in the students are of the highest quality a school could offer,” Soobin finally gave in, just wanting the conversation to end quickly. “You’ve clearly put a lot of thought and care into a curriculum designed for their futures. I’m sure the students’ parents are more than satisfied.”

Placated, Jung Wooseok leaned back in his large, leather-backed seat. “I’m glad to hear you think so.”

What a pompous prick. If Soobin had to play word games with him any longer, he thought he might actually be sick. He simply didn’t have the energy for it. A strange white bird sculpture perched on the shelf behind Jung Wooseok; its glazed, dead eyes felt like they were boring into Soobin, and seeing right through him.

“Are any of the students in particular giving you trouble?” the headmaster inquired, questions still up his sleeve.

“No,” Soobin replied. “Not particularly.”

A simple question. Yet he had to answer with a lie. His life had never been like this before.

The headmaster smiled. “Good. Our students have a reputation for being well-behaved, I would be disappointed to hear otherwise.”

That isn’t what Soobin said. He said they weren’t giving him trouble, not that they were well-behaved. But saying anything on that topic would incriminate himself more than anything else.

“What’s your favorite subject to teach, Soobin-ssi?”

Caught off guard by his interest, Soobin stumbled over his answer, “Um, literature. Korean literature.”

“Well,” The headmaster had his elbows braced on the desk, and when he leaned forward ever so slightly, his smile felt even more threatening. “I’ll look forward to seeing your students excel in that area, then.”

How reassuring.

Soobin dipped his head, but couldn’t get a word out before the headmaster said, “Thank you for joining me in my office today, Soobin-ssi. You may return now.”

So, Soobin stood from his chair and bowed respectfully, before quickly and quietly exiting the headmaster’s office and leaving the administration wing.

Maybe the conversation had been a complete waste of his time, but it did serve as a reminder: He was being watched. Closely. Things worked differently here, and getting involved in anything -or with anyone- he shouldn’t would be a swift end signed for his career.

───────✧❁✧───────

A few days later, class had already come to an end. The students were gone, milling about the hallways and gathering in the courtyard. Clouds covered the sky, blanketing everything in that soft gray haze of a summer day threatening rain. Everyone had felt a little sluggish since morning, and it being a Friday certainly didn’t help Soobin keep his students’ attention, so he was just as glad as them when the final bell rang.

He only had a small stack of papers to grade this weekend, so rather than take them home, he decided to just sit down and power through.

About forty-five minutes later, he finished up and packed all of his things away, making sure to exchange polite greetings with the other staff on his way out of the building. By now, most of the students had cleared out from the courtyard, and a strong wind whistled through the trees dotting the city block, one of autumn’s first calling cards. His hair kept getting in his eyes, and he fought to keep tucking it back behind his glasses.

However, in his attempts to control his hair, the wind managed to fling his bag open, scattering several of the papers he’d just finished grading onto the flagstones.

“Shit,” he cursed under his breath, hurriedly clasping his bag shut so nothing else could escape before kneeling to retrieve the ones he’d dropped. Gathering them in his hands, he noticed a pair of shiny uniform dress shoes appear before him, and he glanced up.

Choi Yeonjun had a few of his papers in one hand, while the other pressed his phone to his ear. Soobin could only think about his current state, kneeling on the ground with his hands full of crumpled assignments, his glasses askew, and hair certainly a disaster.

“Yes, mother, I understand,” Yeonjun sighed into his phone and rolled his eyes, pressing the papers into Soobin’s hands.

Torn between gratitude and embarrassment, he took them, and stood up. He would brush the dust off his pants but he didn’t want to give Yeonjun the satisfaction of knowing Soobin cared how he looked around him.

“No, I told you. I’m staying late today to finish something for dance.” Once he confirmed that Soobin wasn’t going to drop everything in his hands, Yeonjun wandered away from him, continuing his conversation. “Yes. I know you forgot. That’s why I’m telling you again.”

Any polite, sane person would walk away and leave him to talk. Soobin considered himself to be both very polite and perfectly sane. Yet he couldn’t bring his feet to move to the sidewalk, or across the street, or into the parking garage where he should have been five minutes ago.

Trying to make it look as if he had his own reasons for lingering, Soobin collected the papers into a neat stack while simultaneously eavesdropping.

A few meters away, he heard Yeonjun sigh again. “Mom, I’m not lying to you. I’m really at school. I’m not with anyone else…I have time to do both…Didn’t you have hobbies when you were in high school? It’s not unheard of to want to do something other than study, yet you always try to make it sound like the most ridiculous thing in the world.”

The way Yeonjun spoke to his mother wasn’t necessarily rude. He seemed frustrated, and a little annoyed, but it was with the exasperation one only harbored for the people they really loved. Maybe the two of them didn’t see eye to eye on everything, but Soobin didn’t get the impression that they were genuinely at odds, either.

Not that it was any of his business.

“Yes, Taehyun and I are studying together later. Really. I’ll call you from his phone…Yeah, I know you like him.” Yeonjun laughed, and said, “He’s your favorite son. Mhm…No, I told you it’s not like that. You wish it was like that…Okay, I’ll let him know. For the thousandth time…Yes, I’ll call you later. Bye.”

Another sigh escaped the student.

Soobin quickly slipped the papers into his bag and adjusted the strap on his shoulder, going to leave when Yeonjun said, “Sorry about that, I would’ve helped more but I only had the one hand.”

He glanced back at him. Yeonjun didn’t seem like he was teasing or being sarcastic. His phone was still in his hand, screen dark now, and he had his backpack half on, like he’d just retrieved it from somewhere.

“No need to apologize,” Soobin replied with a smile. “It was nice enough of you to help at all, I appreciate it.”

Just talk to him like any teacher would, he reminded himself, the same way he had to do every time they spoke to one another.

Of course, his curiosity managed to get the better of him. “What are you still doing here?”

Yeonjun nodded in the direction of the arts building. “I was talking with my dance instructor. I had some ideas for our next showcase and wanted to run them past her.”

There weren’t many female instructors on campus due to it being an all-boys school, but the arts department made exceptions.

“You two must have a very good relationship,” he said kindly.

Yeonjun’s eyes lit up when he got on the topic of his extracurricular activity. Against his will, Soobin had to acknowledge they looked beautiful. “Yeah, she’s cool. She’s really down-to-earth and easy to talk to. And I’ve known her the longest. I met her in middle school, when I went with my friends to a showcase. She’s the one who encouraged me to join here.”

Soobin tilted his head. “The school or the dance program?”

Laughing as if he’d said something ironic, Yeonjun answered, “The dance program. I’m pretty sure I was fated to go to this stupid academy since the day I was born.” When Soobin looked confused, Yeonjun explained, “All the men in my family went here. It’s pretty much the same for every student, honestly. All of my friends’ fathers and grandfathers went here, too.” Then, struck by an interesting thought, Yeonjun asked, “Sir, how did you end up here?”

Either a stroke of luck or damnation from hell, was the answer ever present at the front of Soobin’s mind, and one he was reminded of as he watched Yeonjun look at him with those soft, shining eyes of his, and speak to him with his pretty pink mouth. Even the way he stood drew Soobin in, one hand in his coat pocket, the other still gripping the strap of his bag, and his weight resting on one foot, elegant and perfectly at ease.

It made Soobin wonder what he looked like when he wasn’t so composed. Sometimes Yeonjun watched him in class as he lectured with a pretty, blank expression on his face, mouth slightly open, and his cheek resting on his hand. Every face Yeonjun gave him made Soobin want to discover more. He knew his flirtatious look well, and had seen him wear it often; too many times for what their relationship was, if he were to be honest. He wanted something more intense. Something more forbidden.

As soon as the realization hit him, he felt a wave of panic. Maybe Yeonjun noticed the change, because he frowned. “You don’t have to tell me, I’m sorry if it was rude to ask.”

“No, no, not at all,” he quickly remedied. Now was not the time to slip up in front of him. “I was good friends with your previous teacher, Mr. Han. We went to university together, and he recommended me for the position. I used to teach at a public school across the river in Dongjak-gu.”

Yeonjun nodded. Then, with a curious tilt of his head, he asked, “Do you like it here?”

Soobin tried not to see any hidden meaning behind his words. “I can’t say yet.”

“The other students are a bit intimidated by you,” Yeonjun confided, something Soobin had already become aware of. “They think you’re strict.”

“I’m not sure if you’re supposed to tell me that,” Soobin said lightly. “They might not appreciate it.” Yeonjun simply shrugged. When he said less, it always encouraged Soobin to say more. Very dangerous, indeed. “And what about you? What do you think?”

A faint smile appeared on Yeonjun’s lips. “I think your dimples are cute. They pop out when you frown. I can’t take you seriously.”

Shocked, Soobin instinctively touched his cheek before replying sternly, “Yeonjun-ssi, that’s not appropriate.”

“Sorry.” Yeonjun was still smiling. He didn’t look sorry at all.

“Do you talk to all of your teachers this way?” Maybe he was just missing something, and his personal feelings towards Yeonjun were skewing his perception.

Maintaining his pleasant look, Yeonjun replied, “No.”

What a menace.

Unable to come up with a reply, Soobin just glanced down the sidewalk and said, “I should be going.”

Yeonjun slipped the other strap of his bag on his shoulder and agreed, “Yeah, me too. Taehyun’s waiting for me.” When Yeonjun walked past, he brushed their arms together and murmured, “This was fun though, we should do it again sometime,” and was already three steps down the sidewalk before Soobin registered what he’d said.

Soobin bit his tongue so as not to call something scathing after him and rushed to put as much distance between them as possible, speed-walking out of the courtyard and across the street. When he finally reached his car on the third level of the parking garage, he practically collapsed in the driver’s seat, slamming the door behind him.

Even objectively, he knew he must look ridiculous. Running away from a teenager in broad daylight, for fuck’s sake, what was he being reduced to?

More than anything, he needed Choi Yeonjun to stop speaking to him like an adult. He was Yeonjun’s teacher. One of many. Not an acquaintance or co-worker or anything of the sort. Yet the boy barely managed an ounce of respect, and flirted with him like he was just another guy. And in doing so, he tricked Soobin into feeling comfortable enough to let his guard slip.

Not only did the moral dilemma of it all drive him insane, he felt a strange wave of sickness and panic whenever Yeonjun got too close because he dragged out feelings in Soobin that he didn’t even want to acknowledge existed. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, and violently suppressed any feelings he’d ever had towards men.

When he was younger, he kept telling himself that it would get better with age. He’d stop feeling this way, and fall in love with a wonderful girl, and his family would stop breathing down his neck about marriage and kids.

The older he got, the more terrified he became of that never being his reality.

The truth was, he did feel that way about men his entire life. He had secret crushes, and engaged in one rushed drunk hook up in college, and watched…different…porn from time to time because it was the only thing he could actually get off to.

But thinking of the word, labeling himself as it…he couldn’t do it. He hadn’t been able to do it his whole life, and he couldn’t start now. He’d gotten so far, and doing so would just fuck everything up.

Yet, somehow, one person managed to start unraveling all of his careful protection piece by piece. Not even a handsome man with a degree, or a career, or anything Soobin could justify. But a student. A pretty, young, charismatic boy who had barely stepped out into the world and knew nothing of life besides that which was right in front of him.

He made Soobin yearn for something he couldn’t have, and of course, it was only fitting. The one person Soobin couldn’t have would of course be the one he wanted. The universe wouldn’t have planned it any other way, so obviously intent on making him suffer.

Fate was cruel; everyone knew that. But Soobin had no intention of giving himself over to it. He had managed to silence these kinds of feelings in himself for years. There was no reason that this had to be any different.

───────✧❁✧───────

A moment arrived, five weeks into his new job, where Soobin had the brief thought that he really might have been set up by a demon, and fate had nothing to do with any of it.

Yeonjun came in late one morning. Soobin had already marked him as absent half an hour ago when Choi Beomgyu told him he hadn’t shown, and planned on moving about his day. He did not look forward to seeing Yeonjun every day, as he felt as though he became not entirely himself, and was therefore relieved that the universe decided to give him a break. Right then and there, he really should have known better.

All of it was snatched away when a knock came at the door. The students collectively glanced up from their textbooks in one motion, but Soobin waved them down, saying, “I’ll get it. Continue with your reading.”

When he turned the handle, he was met with the sight of Choi Yeonjun, who looked particularly flushed and out of sorts. His tie hung loose, blazer unbuttoned, hair disheveled, and once Soobin noticed the dust on his uniform pants, he immediately glanced at the boy’s mouth to confirm his suspicions before stepping out of the classroom and shutting the door behind him.

The hall was empty, but still Soobin kept his voice quiet as he asked, “Where have you been?”

An excuse was already on the tip of the student’s tongue. “I woke up late. I apologize, sir, it won’t happen again.”

Both of them knew he’d just told not one, but two lies. It most certainly would happen again, and Soobin could tell because Yeonjun, once again, didn’t look sorry at all. For someone who said the word so much, he rarely meant it.

“I saw you out in the courtyard with Kang Taehyun and Choi Beomgyu this morning before class.” Soobin was bluffing -he came later than usual himself today and hadn’t seen them at all- but Yeonjun’s cheeks turned even more pink, very clearly thinking he’d been caught. “Tell me where you went between then and now.”

“Honestly, sir.” Yeonjun seemed to have a bit of a problem looking him in the eyes, and instead focused on his shoes as he admitted, “I don’t think you want to know.”

Oh, but Soobin did know. He knew Yeonjun was on his knees in the boy’s restroom, sucking the cock of one of his classmates who just happened to get incredibly lucky that morning. His swollen red mouth and dirty pants were enough evidence. Add in the way his hair looked as though it had been threaded through and pulled on for half an hour, and the picture became obvious. Too obvious; he wished he couldn’t visualize it so vividly because he knew his mind would never let it go.

And Soobin could even guess the lucky guy, thinking back to his attendance this morning where another student, Kim Jinsung, a handsome boy involved in several science and athletic academies, was also coincidentally reported missing by the class president. Two students absent who typically had impeccable attendance. It wouldn’t surprise Soobin at all if he tried to sneak in fifteen minutes after Yeonjun, pretending as though their absences weren’t related.

If it were any other student, Soobin doubted he would care. It wasn’t his business, and he certainly wouldn’t want details. It was bad enough having to think about it even a little. But because it was Yeonjun, he wanted to hear him confess.

Maybe it was due to how easily the boy expected to get away with his act of misconduct; maybe it was because Soobin found him far too charming when he thought he’d won. His early triumph showed in his boldness- he wasn’t afraid to challenge Soobin because he knew Soobin would look bad by pushing him any further.

How interesting.

“You won’t pull something like this again,” Soobin ordered, not once raising his voice. It wouldn’t do either of them any good. “And if I catch you out of class, doing something you’re not supposed to be doing, one more time, there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

His words were vague, but Yeonjun read between the lines, realizing Soobin knew exactly where he’d been. For the first time, a hint of embarrassment crept along his cheeks, pink and satisfying. “Yes, sir, I think I do.”

“Good. Return to your seat and open your textbook to page 83.”

───────✧❁✧───────

Towards the end of August, Soobin wished his class a good weekend on another Friday, this one hot and sunny. As he was doing a final sweep of his classroom, tidying up for the weekend janitor, a knock came at his door.

“Come in!” he called, and a moment later, three library assistants entered his room, arms full of boxes.

“These are the books you requested, Mr. Choi,” one of the boys said kindly, setting his two boxes down on the desk nearest the door.

“Oh.” Soobin retrieved his blazer from his chair where he’d left it earlier and shrugged it back on. “Thank you for bringing them down here. You can just leave the boxes there,” he said with a smile, pointing at the desks.

Two of the boys giggled to each other, but did as they were told. Soobin didn’t see what was so funny, but also recognized that he probably wouldn’t get it even if they told him.

“Have a good weekend, sir,” they all said as they left, dipping their heads politely. More laughter came from the hallway as the door shut behind them.

Soobin surveyed the stack of boxes, six in total, and sighed to himself. They were new- he’d asked the library to order them to keep pace with the current curriculum. He knew the students could afford to buy them individually, but he saw no reason to make their parents pay for something the school already had a budget for.

And while new books were nice, it also meant none of them were numbered or marked, meaning he would have to do it all himself.

He glanced out the window, saw the sun shining down on the courtyard, and knew this was going to be one of the last days of summer. He didn’t want to spend it stuck in his classroom organizing books.

So, he decided to take them home, even if it meant lugging all six boxes out to his car by himself. He carried two at once, making the long trek down the stairs and out the side door closest to the street. The late afternoon sun bore down from above, and he wished he hadn’t put his jacket back on before leaving.

Just as he reached the edge of the courtyard, a familiar voice called out, “Hey, do you want some help?” and a pair of hands snatched up the top box.

Soobin found himself looking directly into Choi Yeonjun’s eyes; the student must have ran over as soon as he saw him.

“Sure,” Soobin replied with a curt nod. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, it was too nice out. Yeonjun clutched the box to his chest and let Soobin lead the way.

“Are these for us?” Yeonjun inquired, following him across the street.

“Mhm.”

Yeonjun looked down at the box doubtfully. “Why’s it so heavy?” Even as he said so, he didn’t seem to have any problem carrying it, even balancing the box on one hand to help Soobin pop his trunk.

“Well, there’s over a dozen books in each box, so they’re bound to weigh a bit.”

He had decided to place the order for the whole grade level after conversing with the other teachers.

“Huh.” Yeonjun settled his box in the trunk and waited for Soobin to do the same before saying, “How many more are there?”

“Four.” Soobin smiled when he saw Yeonjun’s face fall. “Aren’t you glad you offered to help?”

“Thrilled,” Yeonjun muttered, and stepped back to let him shut the trunk.

“Why are you still here, anyway? Don’t you have studying to do?” Soobin inquired as they walked back, to which Yeonjun took suspiciously long to answer. “You’ll be taking your college entrance exams in less than three months, Yeonjun-ssi.”

“I know that,” Yeonjun snapped. “And I am studying. I just…prefer to do it here.”

“Well, that’s fine. But there are plenty of rooms set aside at the academy for that. So, why are you always lingering around the courtyard?”

Yeonjun shielded his eyes from the sun while they waited for the crosswalk signal to change. Now, without a stack of books in his arms, Soobin could get a proper look at him, and realized his uniform blazer was nowhere to be found. He’d unbuttoned his shirt and tugged his tie down as well, revealing a sliver of tan skin peeking out from under his collar, against which a thin silver chain hung.

For the first time, Soobin found himself thinking that Yeonjun was strikingly handsome. His relaxed presence and confident aura made him appealing in a distinctly masculine way, something Soobin had never allowed himself to consider before. But he couldn’t help the thought from crossing his mind, standing under the hot August sun with him after school hours.

Yeonjun was a man.

But Soobin was still undeniably attracted to him.

“It’s too crowded,” Yeonjun finally murmured just as the street cleared. “I can’t think.” After a pause, he admitted, “I’m not…very good at studying, to be honest. Too much stimulation just makes it worse.”

Soobin had secretly suspected as much, having observed him in class for over a month now. He got distracted easily and had a hard time focusing on one task at a time. He liked to talk. He wasn’t exceptionally good at listening. And he liked to move around a lot.

“Why don’t you study at home, then?” Soobin suggested.

Yeonjun shook his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I stick around here just so I have an excuse not to go home.”

Surprised, Soobin glanced at him. Yeonjun’s gaze was fixed firmly on the sidewalk beneath his feet. “Why is that?” he asked gently.

Again, Yeonjun shook his head. “You wouldn’t get it.”

What a teenage thing to say. It quickly brought Soobin back to reality; he was prying too much for just another teacher. Yet, he couldn’t stop himself. “Try me.”

Yeonjun looked at him, then shrugged. “Alright. I don’t want to go sit alone in my mom’s big empty house, trying to focus on something I know I’ll never be able to do well, while a dozen people I don’t know traipse around doing meaningless shit because that’s what she pays them for.”

Soobin, having never grown up under similar circumstances, didn’t get it. Yeonjun was right. But he could try to understand. “I thought you liked being alone?”

“There’s a difference,” Yeonjun muttered. “At home I think I’m a little too alone for my own good. On top of that, my mom doesn’t really trust me to be there by myself, so she constantly sends people in to check on me, pretending they’re cleaning or something. It’s even worse than studying here.”

“Have you ever given her a reason not to trust you?”

Now, Soobin realized he might have stepped over a line. Yeonjun shot him a sharp glance, and said firmly, “No. Why are you so interested, anyways?”

“I’m just trying to understand,” he replied, attempting to get their conversation back on track. “I wish I could help you, because I want you to succeed.”

It was completely normal for a teacher to want their students to do well.

“All of us learn best under different circumstances,” he elaborated, only earning him another irritated look from Yeonjun. Still, he held the door for the student, and let him lead the way back upstairs.

“Unless you’re offering private study sessions, then I’m not interested,” Yeonjun said with a completely straight face once they were in his classroom.

“I’m not doing that,” Soobin swiftly cut off the thread of that even being a possibility.

Yeonjun took another box into his arms, and said with a pout, “Then you must not want me to succeed that badly.”

Soobin didn’t even crack a smile. “Don’t be childish.”

“Okay, then don’t get my hopes up.”

“Yeonjun,” he said sharply. This really couldn’t continue. “Enough.”

“You know, I thought you’d be more fun after class.”

The absolute nonchalance in his voice, his entire attitude in fact, snapped something within him. Soobin snatched the box from his arms and slammed it down on the desk, boxing Yeonjun in against it.

“Is that what you thought?”

Yeonjun’s eyes were wide as saucers, shock etched into every line of his face.

“What else did you think?” Soobin’s tone cut deathly cold. “Did you think that you would catch me after hours, and what, I would cave to your ridiculous attempts at flattery? Did you think I would suddenly want you, Yeonjun-ah, is that it?

“I-” Yeonjun’s voice trembled, but he made no move to push Soobin away. In fact, his posture was entirely inviting, leaning against the desk behind him to make more room, palms braced on the edge.

Soobin had to ignore every sign he gave, and instead look him directly in the eyes as he said, “You seem to have a terrible misunderstanding of what’s happening here. It makes you look foolish. Don’t make a habit of it.”

“I don’t care,” Yeonjun said abruptly, and utterly convinced. “If I cared about how I looked in front of you, don’t you think I would’ve stopped weeks ago?”

His confidence put Soobin on less stable footing. He couldn’t afford for Yeonjun to be so sure of himself.

“If you care about your dignity at all-”

“Obviously I don’t,” Yeonjun cut him off. “So, what then?”

Soobin was at a loss for words. He had intended to give Yeonjun a wake up call, a brief dose of reality that might snap him out of whatever relentless chase he’d started, but it wasn’t working out that way at all.

“Then, nothing,” he said sharply. “It doesn’t matter. This is never going to turn out the way you want it to, regardless of how determined you are. I want you to give up.”

Yeonjun crossed his arms. “Well, that sucks, because I don’t want to.”

Soobin shut his eyes- what a juvenile train of thought. Of course, he was the one arguing with a teenager. He shouldn’t expect anything less.

“What exactly are you trying to get from me?” he finally asked, and put his weight on the desk behind him, wanting to put a bit of space between them.

Yeonjun regarded him coolly, taking his time to answer. “I thought that was pretty clear.”

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

“No.”

Soobin raised an eyebrow. “If you can’t say it, then clearly it isn’t something you really want.”

“That’s not true.”

“Try, then.”

Yeonjun narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to be my teacher right now.”

“Incorrect,” Soobin swiftly countered, regaining his moral compass with that small reminder. “I am always your teacher. Which is why this conversation shouldn’t have happened in the first place. Do you understand?”

Yeonjun bit his cheek for a minute, most likely deciding whether it was worth it to continue arguing. Once he came to a conclusion, he stood fully. “Fine.” He slung his bag back over his shoulder, then said, “I think I’m late for my study period.”

Soobin didn’t bother replying, and just let him walk out the door. Technically, he’d won, but at what cost? It certainly didn’t feel like a victory. And it didn’t feel like he’d convinced Yeonjun to give up, either.

At most, they had reached a temporary stalemate. One he knew for certain couldn’t last. He had let his temper get the better of him earlier. A problem Soobin had tried to correct when he was younger, but never successfully managed to expel completely. It wouldn’t happen again.

───────✧❁✧───────

Upon getting to know Yeonjun, Soobin began to realize that a certain darkness lurked within himself, one that couldn’t be dissuaded by simple resistance. Maybe the boy invoked and brought out something twisted and dangerous, or maybe it had always been there all along, just simmering under the surface of his skin, waiting for a beautiful catalyst.

He was on a self-destructive path and part of him had no desire to veer off course. Every time Soobin began to rationalize and plead with his own desires, the darkest whispers in the back of his mind won out.

Of course, Yeonjun knew what Soobin thought about every time he looked at him. And did nothing to stop Soobin, either, even going so far as to taunt him with the knowledge. Even after all their conversations, the student still refused to give up. He would write crude little annotations on his typed essays, suggestive comments like I can’t think of a thesis, but if you just give me the points I’ll be sure to make it up to you, sir. Sometimes he would linger around after class for too long, baiting Soobin into dangerous conversations under the pretense of small talk. He would pretend to have questions about class only to veer into illicit territory, and Soobin fell for it every single time.

He should be wiser by now, but selfishly, he let himself fall victim to Yeonjun’s traps.

The part of him that wished Yeonjun genuinely had questions about his academics was essentially at war with the part that wanted to skip the pleasantries and force Yeonjun to tell him what he really wanted. Words mattered to him.

This, too, Yeonjun seemed to already know. He never quite stated what his goal was, but alluded to it just enough to have Soobin hanging on by a thread and constantly looking over his shoulder to make sure no one overheard their conversations. If Soobin didn’t like him so much, he would report the student for harassment. And because he liked him too much, Yeonjun’s devilish encouragement only served to fuel Soobin’s obsession.

He couldn’t go on denying it anymore. What he felt for him was obsession, intense and consuming. He thought about him all day; nearly everything he did, his thoughts drifted to the student. At night, he was kept awake by his own immoral fantasies. It wasn’t healthy. He constantly felt like he was on the verge of being driven mad because of it, in all honesty.

However, self control and patience were his few virtues, and he clung to them tightly every single day when faced with Choi Yeonjun in his classroom.

The boy had most of the school wrapped around his fingers, unfortunately, with the students equal parts envious and admiring, and the staff duly charmed, and Soobin’s firm impartial treatment towards him stood out more than anything else. It would almost be less suspicious if he flattered and praised him like everyone else, but the words felt incriminating every time they rested on the tip of his tongue.

Due to his immense restraint, marked by hours of white knuckles and gritted teeth, the student body had indeed singled him out as the strict teacher, just like Yeonjun had warned him. He never had to ask the class to quiet when he entered the room, and his lectures went mostly uninterrupted -save for Choi Beomgyu testing his luck here and there- but he also felt wholly unapproachable, which had never been his teaching style before.

One day, however, a crack began to spring up along the wall of his impermeable calm. Set off, once again, by the catalyst that was the boy in the back row.

Choi Yeonjun had just come up to his desk to turn in a written assignment, and when Soobin didn’t look up from his grading to watch him, he nicked the pen from his hand and used it to tap a yellow sticky note that had been attached to his paper.

Soobin glanced at it, then at Yeonjun, but the student was simply satisfied knowing he had his attention. He tossed his pen down and turned, sauntering back down the aisle.

Just because Soobin exercised indifference didn’t mean he couldn’t look every now and again. Today, the view of Yeonjun’s retreating back was especially pretty. The uniform blazer was buttoned for once, drawing it tighter around Yeonjun’s lithe frame, and he wore pants tailored to be just a fraction higher than the other boys, always trying to direct attention to the length of his legs. His tie was loose and casually thrown over his shoulder as he complained it got in the way of his writing, giving him the effortless star student look he wore so well. His silhouette alone was quite attractive; the slight twitch of his hips and carding back of his hair seemed a bit like overkill, but Soobin would never complain.

Curious, he pulled Yeonjun’s assignment towards him and read the note: Do you spend much time in the students’ study lounge? I’ve never gone to study but the couches are very comfortable. And the carpets are easy on my knees when I forget to pay my tutor. Maybe I could show you sometime~

Soobin felt his ears turn red and cheeks heat up, out of anger or fear he might be discovered with this, he couldn’t say.

But he knew, without a doubt, that he could no longer let this behavior slide. He’d given him enough warnings. At this point, they were on the line of something they couldn’t return from.

He tore the note off and shoved it into his desk drawer before announcing, "Choi Yeonjun, you will meet with me after class."

No room left for argument.

Yeonjun snickered under his breath, but made the wise choice of staying silent apart from that. Both of his close friends gave him looks but he just shrugged, as if to say I have no idea what he wants, when he knew full well what he had done and somehow expected to come away from it with no consequences, just like always.

As soon as the hour reached its end, students rushed out of his classroom the same as every other day, loud and eager to leave. Towards the back of the room, he heard Yeonjun say, "It’s okay, you guys go on ahead. I’ll see you later."

After a few moments, two pairs of reluctant footsteps trailed out the door after the others, leaving Soobin and Yeonjun fully alone.

He gave it a minute as he continued his grading, letting Yeonjun stew and grow fidgety.

Finally, once he finished marking the paper, he set it aside and looked up. Yeonjun was leaning against his own desk, waiting to be summoned. Beautifully obedient now that he knew he was in trouble, although his eyes were still very much fiery and alive.

These were not the thoughts to be having right now.

"Come."

While Yeonjun approached, Soobin retrieved his little note from the drawer, and waited for the boy to be right in front of him, those intelligent dark eyes betraying the slightest hint of enthrallment. He liked the tension, and enjoyed knowing that he forced Soobin’s hand. It read in his mouth, faintly upturned lips, like he knew a particularly delicious secret.

Like they were sharing one.

Soobin couldn’t afford to be as conspicuous, and said nothing at first, just held out the note on a finger. Such a harmless little thing, yet it could ruin both of their lives. Yeonjun’s gaze shifted between his stern eyes and the paper, slowly growing more uncomfortable the longer Soobin remained silent. It pleased something subconscious in him to watch the boy squirm.

"Read it."

Yeonjun opened his mouth, most likely to protest, before shutting it again. After a moment, he just shrugged and started reading.

However, he didn’t recite the words, like he had just been instructed to read a passage out loud during class. He glanced at the note, seemed to memorize his own writing before looking Soobin straight in the eyes, wearing that coquettish smirk, and asked, "Do you spend much time in the students’ study lounge, sir?"

And as if they were playing a game, Soobin answered like clockwork, "I’ve never been," essentially filling in the gaps Yeonjun’s note had left.

Yeonjun’s eyes lit up- he didn’t expect Soobin would play along. Neither did Soobin. He didn’t mean to.

"I’ve never gone there to study, but the couches are very comfortable," he drew out the syllable, let it rest on his bottom lip, the slight hiss of it saying every unspoken implication. "And," he leaned forward, bracing a hand on the desk between them to get as close as he could without scaring Soobin off. Like he had it in him to flee, ensnared as he’d become. "The carpets are easy on my knees," His gaze fell from Soobin’s, down to his lips, then lower, before flicking back up, "when I forget to pay my tutor. Maybe I could show you sometime, sir."

Utterly brazen. Soobin stared him down in silence for a moment before clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Are you really so desperate, Yeonjun-ssi? Continuing all this even after I told you it was useless? Because I was under the impression that, due to your popularity, you could have anyone you want. Yet given your pathetic attempts to earn some strange form of my validation over these past two months, perhaps I was mistaken.” A flicker of anger in his voice betrayed him, ruthless and cruel. “Maybe, despite my previous assumptions, your fellow students recognize you for what you really are, and have decided they’re not interested."

Infuriatingly eager, Yeonjun leaned in even more, of course becoming a particularly engaged student now that they weren’t discussing academics, waiting for Soobin to teach him something new. "Oh? And what would that be, sir?"

Soobin felt the crack from earlier begin to widen and splinter. Still, he restrained from calling Yeonjun a slut, which was the word on the tip of his tongue, and instead simply answered, "There are things I won’t say about my students."

He had to quench his temper now. Or else he’d say something they couldn’t recover from. The entire year stretched ahead of them; it would be impossible to endure if things ended badly.

"How admirable," Yeonjun murmured, and took a step back from the desk. His overly flirtatious approach dropped once he realized Soobin wasn’t giving in, and he became surprisingly honest, if not irritatingly selfish. "Well, you’re right in assuming I could have my pick of the guys here, but it’s precisely because I could have all of them that I think it’s fun to play with you instead."

"Because I’m off-limits and you can’t stand the thought of not getting something you want," Soobin simplified for him.

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “Wording only changes so much, sir. We both mean the same thing. You just like when things are said your way. You do it in class, too. Besides,” he said with a shrug, “that’s not it at all, really. I just think you’re sexier than any of the students. Is that so bad?”

Choosing to ignore the jab, as well as the subsequent flattery, Soobin replied, “Your behavior these past few weeks has been unacceptable and entirely inappropriate. If you continue to act this way, I’ll have no choice but to take disciplinary action.”

A well-sculpted brow shot up in intrigue. “And what would that entail, sir?”

He would not take the bait. He would not do it. “A mark on your record. A conversation with the academy head. Perhaps even a meeting with your parents.”

“Or,” Yeonjun suggested, “you could discipline me yourself.”

“That’s exactly the kind of behavior I’m referring to, Yeonjun-ssi.”

Yeonjun paused, just long enough for Soobin to notice the shift in his demeanor. The next words out of his mouth caught Soobin off guard.

“Are you…actually upset with me?” His confidence began to flicker, a shining light that started to fail for the first time. It happened to even the brightest stars, and Choi Yeonjun was no exception.

That moment of vulnerability reminded him that he was young. Soobin could speak less harshly. “I’m not upset with you. I just need to impress on you how pointless this is. It won’t bring you anything good.”

Maybe he dropped his guard too much. Those were the kind of words that would give Yeonjun false impressions.

“But you like it-”

“It’s not about what I like, Yeonjun,” he finally gave up on subtlety, biting out the sentence, more honest than he’d been in all their conversations prior. “It’s just simply out of my hands.”

“Why?” Yeonjun argued. “How can you say that, yet not give me a direct ‘no’? How is that okay? How is that not you refusing to acknowledge what you’re doing?”

Soobin’s mouth fell open in shock, his careful facade slipping. “What I’m doing? I’ve never once done anything to you, Yeonjun-ssi, and saying otherwise will get both of us in trouble.”

Yeonjun raised his chin. “You go out of your way to talk to me. You make me sit here during lunch, giving me detentions that somehow magically never show up on my record whenever you’re afraid that I might be somewhere else, with someone else. You take a special interest in me, even seeking me out after class. I see the way you look at me. I know what you’re thinking about. I’ve known since the summer. But I’m the only one who knows,” he said quietly. “And I can keep it that way.”

He looked beautiful now. Eyes downcast, demure, waiting for guidance. Hands in front of him, loosely laced together. One foot crossed behind the other.

I can keep it that way. Such a pretty promise, but an impossible one to keep.

“Adjust your behavior,” Soobin said coldly. “I don’t want to have this conversation again.”

Yeonjun pursed his lips but nodded once, then quietly walked to the door. However, just as Soobin was about to take a deep breath and steady himself, Yeonjun said, “September.”

Frowning, Soobin glanced up. “What?”

Yeonjun had a hand braced on the doorframe. He looked striking, refusing to back down as he stated calmly, “I turn eighteen in September. The thirteenth. Two weeks.”

Soobin shut his eyes. “Don’t.”

“I know you’re worried about-”

“It’s so much more than that, Yeonjun. Please, just drop it.”

The last thing he needed was justification. Permission. Things that would drive him to make a decision he couldn’t afford, both for Yeonjun, and for himself. Doing so would force him to acknowledge that hidden part of himself. He wouldn’t be able to ignore it any longer once he’d had Yeonjun.

A beat of silence stretched between them, and then Yeonjun nodded. Perfectly composed, wearing an icy facade that didn’t fit his age. The same one he’d put on at the amusement park. Something he undoubtedly learned from his parents when he was young. “I understand, sir. Have a nice night.”

Soobin let him leave, but stared at the doorframe for a long time afterwards. The sun set during their conversation. His classroom was swathed in dark shadows, and it took him several minutes to turn a light on. He sat there well into the night grading papers in a desperate attempt to drown out the clamoring voices of his growing vices, all of which began to sound like Yeonjun a long time ago.

Chapter Text

Every evil had its own spiraling descent. An unraveling, if you will. Choi Yeonjun unraveled him piece by piece, pulling at all the faded red ribbons with gentle fingers and a reassuring smile.

The student had largely given up his pursuit, and took Soobin’s words to heart. Unwittingly, Soobin undid the first ribbon with his own hands, leading to the suffocating mess he found himself in now. Yes, Yeonjun no longer teased, or flirted, or played around just to see what he could get away with. But not having that slight interaction, the buffer Soobin now knew it to be, gave way to a deep hunger. An ache. As if he’d developed an addiction and needed that brief injection to satisfy the dark craving gnawing at him every day. He needed Yeonjun to look at him, to acknowledge him, to want him.

Nothing else could quite come close to the feeling of those pretty eyes on him, desperate for approval. Desperate, and longing, and so very taboo.

Occasionally, Yeonjun would sneak a furtive glance in the middle of class, only to find Soobin already looking at him. His cheeks turned bright pink and he always ducked his head, pretending as though he’d been engrossed in their assigned reading the whole time.

It wasn’t enough for Soobin. In fact, this was somehow worse. With his confident exterior effectively stripped away, Yeonjun became vulnerable. And Soobin enjoyed him in that state more than he could have imagined.

So, he found himself stepping into the role he had pushed Yeonjun from. It was the only way to feed his obsession. If Yeonjun wouldn’t talk to him, Soobin would make him talk. Simple cause and effect, even if he was the cause of his own discomfort.

“Choi Yeonjun,” Soobin said towards the end of the period, not even looking up from his desk. “Come see me after class.”

A part of him wished his own constitution wasn’t so strict, or else he would feel no guilt seeing the confused expression on Yeonjun’s face. As it was, he couldn’t stand witnessing the effects of his own touch-and-go behavior, and instead kept his gaze firmly on his lesson planner until the period ended.

“Why is he always calling you up?” Choi Beomgyu asked his friend under his breath, but he had the kind of voice that carried, husky and deep, so Soobin heard them anyway.

“No idea,” Yeonjun replied almost too quickly. “I’ll let you know after.”

“Do you want us to wait in the library again?” Kang Taehyun inquired. Almost all of the students had gone now, leaving just the four of them in the room. Their cover of classroom clamour had abandoned them.

Yeonjun glanced at Soobin from across the sea of desks. They briefly met eyes before Soobin turned his attention to the computer monitor. “Um, go wherever you guys want. I’ll catch up with you. Just text me where you end up.”

“We’ll probably go to the convenience store across the street, then,” Beomgyu said, toes already pointed towards the door. “You want anything?”

Yeonjun couldn’t focus on his friends, obviously antsy to get them out of the room. “Sure, yeah, surprise me.”

Beomgyu shrugged. “Okay.”

Taehyun placed a hand on his friend’s back and guided him out, giving Yeonjun a nod, and saying, “See you later.”

The door shut and the classroom became void of voices, just the clicking of computer keys as Soobin typed a mindless email to administration. “Bring a chair,” he said calmly, still not looking at Yeonjun for the sake of maintaining control.

He realized in the first week of their new dynamic that control was what Yeonjun took from him. Those two months, they had done everything according to Yeonjun’s rules, and it made Soobin feel desperately out of his depth. It scared him even more than the prospect of what Yeonjun kept forcing him to face, how the whole thing was entirely out of his hands.

And so, he took it back. As an authority figure, as Yeonjun’s authority figure, he had every right to do so. He should have done so from the start. His mistake lay in letting Yeonjun gain the upper hand from the first time they met, giving him a false sense of invincibility.

Yeonjun was not invincible.

He certainly didn’t look invincible now, either, as he hauled a chair over to Soobin’s desk and sat himself in it. Not nearly as powerful as he was when he towered over Soobin’s desk, staring him down with his hypnotic gaze. No, now he was subdued, and thoroughly confused.

“You seem to have two very good friends,” Soobin reflected as a conversation starter, typing the last line of his email.

“Taehyun and I have known each other since middle school,” Yeonjun answered after a moment. “I met Beomgyu freshman year. He’s a transfer.”

“Mm, I saw on his record. He moved from Daegu with a scholarship, yes?”

“Right…” Yeonjun paused again, then rushed forward. “Sir, no disrespect meant, but if you wanted to learn more about my friends, you could’ve asked them yourself. Why did you ask me to stay?”

Finally, Soobin gave him a direct look. Yeonjun was fidgety, unsure of himself and his new position, but he stilled when Soobin pulled away from his computer. “Are you in a hurry, Yeonjun-ssi?”

“No. Not really.” Yeonjun glanced at the clock.

“Are you sure? Your friends aren’t waiting for you?” He knew they weren’t, but didn’t want to let on that he’d been eavesdropping.

Yeonjun shook his head. “I told them to go without me.”

“Why is that? Are you anticipating being here for a long time?”

A shred of boldness was restored in Yeonjun. “Well, considering all you’ve done is ask me questions, and that’s kind of what you always do, yes, honestly.”

Soobin blinked, caught off guard. “I suppose that’s fair. I actually only called you up here to check on you. I noticed your grades have been slipping in the past couple of weeks and I was wondering if we could identify the cause.”

Yeonjun’s expression quickly darkened with irritation. “Wow, I wonder what could have possibly happened.”

Involuntarily, Soobin’s heart rate picked up. He had suspected their last conversation might have been the root of Yeonjun’s distress, but didn’t want to assume he had such an influence over the student.

“Would you mind elaborating on that?”

“Could you not?” Yeonjun snapped, once again catching Soobin by surprise. Apparently he wasn’t the only one with a temperamental attitude. “Stop being so overly formal with me, no one’s monitoring our conversation.”

Soobin moved his lesson planner out of the way so nothing sat between them on the desk and replied, “I’m not trying to be overly formal with you, Yeonjun-ssi. I’m sorry if I came off that way.”

Slowly, but surely, Yeonjun’s annoyance dissipated. His hands found their way on the desk, drawing idle shapes. He became more comfortable. “Sorry,” he muttered after a moment. “I’m just…confused.”

Soobin nodded, resting his chin in his hand. “I thought that might be the case. Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I thought you weren’t talking to me anymore.”

Smiling to himself, Soobin said, “Yeonjun-ssi, you’re going to be in both my homeroom and my literature period until you graduate. How would we go the entire year without talking to one another?”

His simple explanation accidentally revealed so much. Yeonjun glanced up at him, eyes bright. “Do you do this with all the students, then? Check-ins like this?”

Soobin hesitated. He wasn’t a good liar. “No. Not like this.”

At the prospect of being special, Yeonjun’s hope was rekindled. “So, why ask me to?” Maybe the student was slowly figuring out that Soobin couldn’t improvise for the life of him, nor had he prepared any believable excuses to use when faced with straightforward questions.

He felt a strange mix of nausea and anticipation as he admitted, “Because I like you more.”

As a teacher, words like that should never come out of his mouth. All of his students were equally important, and for the most part, Soobin had generally abided by that rule all throughout his career. Until meeting Choi Yeonjun.

Upon seeing Yeonjun’s excited expression, Soobin was quick to dampen it. “Don’t take that out of context, Yeonjun-ssi. Even teachers are allowed to have favorites. It doesn’t mean anything along the lines of what you’re imagining.”

Unconvinced, Yeonjun leaned forward, hands resting on the edge of his desk. “Most teachers wouldn’t say it though, would they? But you’re telling me because you want me to know. I’m not stupid, sir.”

“I’ve never once thought you were,” he answered calmly. “I think you’re very smart, Yeonjun. Which is why I don’t like seeing your grades drop like this just before you take your exams. I want us to come up with a solution, so they’re back where they were by October.”

Yeonjun leaned back in his chair, crossing one long leg over the other. “Incentivise me, then.”

Soobin’s eyebrows shot up. “Excuse me?”

“You know, motivate me. Give me a reason to care.”

Frowning, he said, “You should care because they’re your grades, Yeonjun. They’re what allow you to get into universities so you can get a job and live a successful life.”

While that usually worked on his students, Yeonjun remained unimpressed. “Sir, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but things work differently here than they do at wherever you used to teach. Most of us don’t technically have to excel in school. I could pay my way through any university I wanted, and request a position in my family’s company the minute I graduate, starting at a salary that’s worth more than your life savings. Our parents just want us to go through the motions.”

Wealthy kids grew up thinking money was the end-all-be-all of life. In time, Yeonjun would realize it wasn’t so simple. “And exactly how satisfactory of a life would that be for you?”

Yeonjun’s haughty expression faltered, brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Do you like your family’s business? Does it match your interests, or your talents and ambitions? Is making money all that matters to you?”

Soobin didn’t believe Yeonjun was so shallow. He knew the student was artistic, and expressive, and nonconforming to the constraints of his own upbringing. But his narrow-minded perspective prevented him from seeing that side of himself.

“We all have to make money to live,” Yeonjun answered, stubborn as ever. He didn’t look too confident now, however.

“We have to do what makes us happy if we want any hope of enjoying life,” Soobin countered. “What’s the point of money if you have no joy?” When Yeonjun fell silent, at a loss for words, he added gently, “You don’t have to have any answers now. I’m only saying all this because I care about your future. Give it some thought. If you decide you want help getting back on track, I’m more than happy to work with you.”

A few seconds passed where Yeonjun just fixed his attention on the desktop. Then, he looked up at Soobin and asked, “Are you offering because you’re my teacher? Or because you like me?”

A question with two wrong answers.

Sighing, Soobin said, “It’s my job to make sure you don’t fall behind.” He wouldn’t fall into such an obvious trap.

Yeonjun nodded. “Mm.” He stood up, chair scooting out behind him. “Well, I appreciate the offer, but I’m more than capable of doing it on my own. I think you overestimated your own persuasive skills, sir. I don’t need your help. But it’s cute of you to do all this, pretending like you care about my grades when we both know you just want an excuse to spend time with me. I’ll pass.”

Soobin stared at him, unable to speak as their conversation took a turn he didn’t prepare for.

“Suit yourself,” he finally said as Yeonjun retrieved his bag from the back of the room and headed to the door, to which the student just responded with a wave before leaving.

Once the classroom was empty, a sharp snort escaped him. He couldn’t tell whether he wanted to laugh or bang his head on the desk in frustration. Yeonjun may have partially seen through his plan, but he also sounded fairly resolute about bringing his grades up on his own terms. Soobin would consider this a minor success, at least from a teaching perspective.

Not so much a success from a personal perspective, however. He hadn’t anticipated that Yeonjun would be so oppositional, especially when Soobin went out of his way to make it easy for both of them. If they weren’t under the academy’s constant scrutiny, maybe things would be simpler.

Of course, it was only fitting for him to put up a fight just as Soobin resigned himself to stop trying. Perhaps it was the universe reminding Soobin of his boundaries.

He shouldn’t be so obvious. Even Yeonjun himself had seen through him. Which meant other people could as well.

In fact, Soobin really shouldn’t be heading down this road in the first place, but he couldn’t stop himself. If Yeonjun wouldn’t seek him out, he had to bring the student to him just to satisfy his craving for Yeonjun’s attention.

The thought of losing the tentative relationship they’d built scared him more than he thought it would. When he initially told Yeonjun off for pursuing him, he did it because it was the right thing to do. Not because he wanted to. The consequences of his choice were agonizing.

And that could only mean he was more invested in what they had than in doing the right thing. Was it so wrong to be a little selfish? Could indulging in this desire really set his life off course, if every sign was pointing him straight to it?

Yeonjun had looked so innocently enthralled when Soobin confessed that he liked him more than his classmates. What a simple thing, yet it set his eyes alight and put a smile on his face. Soobin had never seen a more beautiful sight. And selfishly, he’d do anything to see it again.

Did that make him a bad person?

This wasn’t necessarily a new question on his mind, although he used to ask it more to himself in his twenties. As he got older, he resolved that things would simply be the way they were. Aside from being handsome, he wasn’t particularly special. He didn’t have any outstanding skills. He was the youngest of his family, and therefore wouldn’t accomplish anything his siblings hadn’t already done. He wasn’t good with women. He liked simple and unimpressive things. He didn’t have an exotic career.

There were no exciting episodes of his life.

But this, the chapter he found himself at now, felt different than all the others.

He had been average since the moment he was born. But Yeonjun treated him like he was special.

Was it wrong that Soobin liked the feeling? He liked being wanted. He liked the way Yeonjun looked at him. He even liked being the cause behind Yeonjun’s slipping grades, because it made him feel important. Significant. For once, he had an impact on someone else’s life beyond the reach of just being a teacher.

Somehow, he made Choi Yeonjun, who was special, feel something different. And he made Soobin special in return.

Isn’t that how people were supposed to find each other? It wasn’t his fault that his person happened to be younger than him, and that any relationship between them would be seen as unconventional. He didn’t choose to feel this way. So, was going ahead with it anyway enough to make him a bad person? When he hadn’t done anything particularly well his entire life?

Surely there must be some forgiveness, or even just understanding. He didn’t believe in an afterlife, or hell, or anything, but toeing this line made him anxious of the unknown.

People had done worse things.

Arguably, other people had even done the same thing he was considering, but with much darker intentions. He wasn’t trying to manipulate Yeonjun, or take advantage of him and his naivety. He wanted Yeonjun to feel safe, just like he wanted the privilege of being around him, and with him.

But if he started justifying his intentions, then he was already stepping across the boundary he’d set.

Yet he couldn’t let go of the fact that Yeonjun had approached him first. He’d confronted Soobin with the idea of having him so abruptly and quickly into their relationship that he couldn’t think of him any other way. Was that his fault, when Yeonjun had been the one to say it, and to continue saying it even as weeks went by?

Yeonjun obviously wanted him, but maybe his infatuation didn’t run so deep. Maybe, once he realized the depth of Soobin’s obsession, he would want to end it.

That would be okay, Soobin reasoned. If Yeonjun told him to stop, or if he gave any hint that he was uncomfortable, Soobin would back off immediately. He would be able to because he would know it’s what Yeonjun wanted.

But right now, at this moment, Yeonjun wanted him. Nothing in Soobin’s life had ever felt more compelling.

His thoughts were spiraling.

Soobin looked out the window, saw the sun setting behind the high-rises, and took a deep breath. He couldn’t actually go through with it. Even considering it was madness. God, and just after he’d given Yeonjun such a self-righteous speech about doing the right thing for both of them.

There had to be an explanation, a reason why he couldn’t shake these feelings. Once he figured it out, he’d be able to put an end to it. It wasn’t natural to feel this way.

An email notification popped up on his computer, drawing his attention to the time. September 12th, six p.m.

Yeonjun would be turning eighteen in exactly six hours.

It was sick of him to want to count them down. He shouldn’t care in the first place. But, even though he shouldn’t, he hoped Yeonjun was happy right now, celebrating with his friends before adulthood came knocking at his door.

There was no reason Soobin had to let numbers change anything. Even if Yeonjun wanted them to. He was still Soobin’s student.

And so, before he pushed him completely from his thoughts for the night, Soobin had one last, passing wry sentiment. As Yeonjun’s teacher, he hoped he wouldn’t celebrate too hard, since the first draft of his research paper was due tomorrow morning.

───────✧❁✧───────

Leaves tumbled down the streets, past the window Soobin had been staring idly out for the last half hour. They came scattered from the neighboring park where he’d just rolled in after taking a nice afternoon walk. Autumn officially had the city in its grip, and he’d ducked into a nearby cafe to escape the early seasonal chill.

For once, he didn’t bring any materials from work with him, instead opting to enjoy his weekend rather than bury his head in lesson plans. At first, it put him on edge. He didn’t like having empty space in his day since he just thought about how anxious he was to fill it. But today he was determined to take time for himself. Even if it killed him.

He’d always had a habit of living in the present, afraid to dwell too long on the past or future. Doing so kept him busy. It also made him passive, something he was struggling to maintain lately.

When the cafe’s entrance bell rang, and he chanced a look at the door only to spot a familiar silhouette, he thought he might have been better off staying at home after all.

Of course it was his luck that the source of his stress and frustrations would appear at the one place Soobin had decided to relax and empty his head.

Yeonjun saw him, too. How could he not, when Soobin stared so blatantly, too surprised to even school his expression?

A nervous smile touched Yeonjun’s lips- he hadn’t expected to run into Soobin either. Both of them were at a disadvantage, and if he didn’t act now, Yeonjun would surely find a way to use the situation in a way that benefited him.

And sure enough, Soobin was already fighting a losing battle, considering he’d only seen Yeonjun out of his school uniform once before, and today he was reminded of why he was so immediately attracted to him in the first place. He wore a distressed white tank top tucked into light wash jeans, over which he’d slipped on a cropped jacket, clearly trying to catch the last of summer. The neckline of his top was worn enough to be distracting, once again revealing that same silver necklace he always seemed to keep on. Even his earrings were different, the first hoops exchanged for dangling silver chains that were equal parts pretty and punk.

His body was lithe and pleasing to the eye. Slender, muscular, and tall. Not necessarily perfect, with the length of his legs disproportionate to the shortness of his torso, but unique and attractive enough to the point where perfection didn’t matter.

It was a bit cliche, but Yeonjun really could be a model.

He knew he didn’t have it in him to just greet Yeonjun and send him on his way. His defenses were already lowered after having such a pleasant day and running into him unexpectedly.

So, Soobin motioned him over, and Yeonjun looked almost relieved that he was given permission, weaving through the sea of wooden tables and chairs until he reached the back corner.

“Hi. Hello. Um, good afternoon…sir…” Yeonjun stumbled his way through his greetings, and Soobin found it kind of funny. Usually he was more collected than this.

“Weren’t you the one berating me the other day for being so formal?” Soobin said lightly. The weight on his shoulders didn’t feel nearly as heavy when they weren’t on campus. Still, although the odds of anyone seeing them were slim, it wasn’t impossible.

Yeonjun awkwardly dipped his head. “Right. I’m…um, sorry about that, actually. I don’t think I was very respectful during our last conversation.”

“No,” Soobin agreed. “You weren’t. But that’s okay. You weren’t necessarily wrong, either. The two things don’t always go hand in hand.”

For some reason, Yeonjun seemed intent on apologizing. He placed a hand on the back of the chair across from Soobin. “I realize now that you were just trying to give me a different perspective, and it came from a good place. I think I have a hard time taking advice from you, if I’m being honest. I shouldn’t have accused you of…of what I did.”

He felt slightly guilty now, considering Yeonjun had been right in his accusations. The way Soobin had been staring at him moments ago only proved that. “It’s really okay.” He spoke gently, and watched as Yeonjun relaxed with his tone. “I’m sorry if I overstepped my boundaries.”

Their conversation could easily pass for the kind any teacher would have with a student. But the roundabout formality of it all sounded disingenuous, even to him. He didn’t want to play this game with Yeonjun. He liked when Yeonjun was honest, and witty, and unafraid to look him in the eyes.

“Take a seat," Soobin invited him, gesturing to his own table.

Yeonjun hesitated, and quickly looked around the cafe to see if anyone was watching them. No one seemed to care, and Yeonjun came to the same conclusion, quietly slipping into the seat Soobin had pointed at.

"You should let me order you another coffee," Yeonjun said, slinging his bag over the chair’s wooden frame.

"And why would I do that?"

Yeonjun blinked. "It’s polite to treat your seniors."

Soobin laughed, feeling a rare smile on his face. That wasn’t the answer he’d expected. In fact, he thought Yeonjun would reply with something having to do with his wealth. But it seemed like the thought didn’t even cross his mind. "I’m not your senior, Yeonjun-ssi. I’m your teacher. I think it’s more fitting that I buy you a coffee."

"Could you not always bring it up?" Yeonjun said sourly, crossing his arms. There was that familiarity Soobin was missing. "It’s weird."

"Bring what up? The fact that I’m your teacher?" When Yeonjun opened his mouth to express his irritation, Soobin was quick to speak again, but he lowered his voice this time. "It’s exactly because I’m your teacher that we can sit here and talk, and it isn’t extremely out of place. We have an excuse. Does that make sense?"

Realization dawned on Yeonjun’s face, obvious and lovely. "Oh."

Soobin offered another small smile, then rose to his feet. "Tell me what you’d like to drink."

"Iced Americano," he replied slowly, gaze following Soobin up.

“Isn’t it too cold out? Are you sure you wouldn’t like something else?”

When Yeonjun looked offended at the mere suggestion of changing his order, Soobin just laughed and nodded. “You’re one of those people, got it. I’ll be right back.”

He returned within five minutes, a cup of hot green tea in one hand for him, and Yeonjun’s stubbornly unseasonal drink in the other. At the table, Yeonjun had his phone out, and an uncharacteristic unhappiness on his face.

“What’s wrong?” Soobin asked, setting his drink down in front of him.

Yeonjun sighed, and clicked his phone screen off. “Nothing.” He pulled his drink towards his chest, giving the ice a slow stir. Today, his fingers were adorned with two silver rings and one thin black one, a pretty sight wrapped around the cup. “What are you doing in this part of the city, anyway?”

Soobin noticed the change in topic, but chose to let it slide. If Yeonjun didn’t want to tell him, then it was none of his business. “I was actually walking around the park across the street earlier, but it got too cold so I came in here. There’s a bookstore down the street, too, that I sometimes go to on my days off.”

“Mm.” Yeonjun rested his cheek on his hand, and when he looked at Soobin, his heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t anything in particular; Yeonjun was just beautiful. All messy dark hair, soft skin, and long lashes. Even the look in his eyes had an unfamiliar feeling spark in Soobin’s chest, so unintentionally sultry that it almost seemed unfair. Yeonjun wasn’t trying to seduce him. He shouldn’t even have the capability.

But at the same time, maybe he did, and it was all completely intentional.

“You like books a lot, don’t you?”

Soobin thought about it. The answer was yes, obviously. He was quite literally the literature teacher at their academy, but it wasn’t so simple. He didn’t want to just come off as a boring teacher. “I like having the ability to experience new things and places without having to actually go anywhere.”

Yeonjun laughed. “That’s cute. And fitting.”

“Yeonjun,” Soobin reprimanded with a frown. “You can’t say that.”

If they’d had this conversation a month ago, Yeonjun would’ve cocked his head and asked Say what? That I think you’re cute? What’s wrong with that? But since a boundary had been drawn between them, he simply shrugged. “Oops. Sorry.”

"It’s alright.” As long as a line was acknowledged, Soobin was fulfilling his responsibilities. He could only be held accountable for so much. “I forgot to ask, what brings you here?"

"Oh. I’m, um, meeting my English tutor in an hour. My teacher’s pushing me to score better, so I came early to study a little beforehand."

Soobin stilled, intrigue taking over. Yeonjun’s English tutor. Who couldn’t perhaps be…

"The same tutor you usually meet in the study lounge?" Soobin asked innocently, then took a sip of his tea.

Yeonjun flushed a pretty primrose. "Yeah. That one."

They were both thinking about the same thing: that intrepid little note Yeonjun had written at the end of August, the one Soobin nearly lost his composure over.

Yeonjun was avidly stirring his Americano now, avoiding eye contact with him. It was quite cute, actually. He went through phases, sometimes shockingly bold and other times endearingly timid.

“I can’t imagine you do much learning together,” Soobin continued in a casual tone, unwilling to free him from his embarrassment just yet. “If what you told me is true.”

Of all the conversations he’d reprimanded Yeonjun for starting, none of them were as inappropriate as what Soobin was implying now.

“That’s kind of why we’re meeting here, actually,” Yeonjun mumbled. And then, in a desperate attempt to switch the topic, he asked, “Are you very good at English?”

Soobin smiled. “No. Not really, I’m afraid.”

Pouting, Yeonjun said, “That’s too bad. I think you’d be a great replacement for my current tutor.”

Another innocent sentence that read entirely different to him, as someone who knew exactly what Yeonjun and his English tutor got up to. Heat creeped along his skin and up his face, and he had trouble forcing a collected expression.

“It sounds like quite the task, to be honest, I don’t think I’m really cut out for it.”

Those weren’t the words he meant to say. Or part of him did, and it was too late for the rational part to take them back.

Yeonjun’s pretty lips formed a devilish smile; Soobin played right into his hands. “Oh, I disagree, sir. I think you’re perfectly cut out for it. I’d take you over him any day.”

“That’s awfully bold of you to say.”

Arching an eyebrow, he simply replied, “Well, I’m confident I can put my money where my mouth is. So to speak, of course.”

This was quickly getting out of hand.

“Yeonjun-”

“What? Are you going to tell me I’m being inappropriate again?” He stole the words right out of Soobin’s mouth. “If you really didn’t want to hear it, then you wouldn’t talk to me the way you do.” Yeonjun crossed his arms, leaning back in his seat. “In fact, I was prepared to drop it after our conversation in August, but I guess we weren’t on the same page, after all, since you can’t seem to let it go. If anything is inappropriate, it’s you letting me sit here in the first place. Don’t you think so?”

Soobin struggled to answer; once again, Yeonjun was right. His behavior sent all kinds of mixed signals. How could he possibly expect Yeonjun to curb his behavior when Soobin couldn’t even do the same? It wasn’t a fair double standard, especially since he couldn’t keep his side of the deal.

Finally, he could only shut his eyes and say, “You have to realize the kind of position I’m in.”

His heart raced as he admitted it out loud, not only to himself, but to Yeonjun too.

And to his credit, Yeonjun didn’t even skip a beat. “So what? It’s not fair to me for you to keep doing this.”

After a moment, Soobin nodded. “You’re right.” Yeonjun seemed to like hearing that, as his expression softened, and he took a sip of his coffee. “But it’s simply too risky for both of us, Yeonjun. I’m sorry.”

Yeonjun played with his straw for a minute. “I figured you would say that. And I get it. But if that’s the case, then I need you to stop treating me like I’m special. It gets my hopes up.”

Soobin felt his heart drop, oddly shaken at the prospect. Yeonjun was special. Not only to him, but to everyone. And he liked making sure the student knew it. “I don’t know if I can do that,” he admitted.

Yeonjun nodded, and took another long drink of his coffee. “Yeah, I know. Which is kinda what your problem is, I guess.”

Frowning, he asked, “And what exactly would that be?”

“You can’t set boundaries and keep them,” Yeonjun reflected, and Soobin was struck by how observant he was. “If you had told me no and stuck to it, I would’ve left you alone. Ignoring my personal feelings towards you, it was the right thing to do. I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable. There’s a line, and I get that. But lately, you’ve been seeking me out. It’s like you want to stop talking to me, but you can’t. It’s confusing, honestly. I don’t really know what you want from me.”

Soobin sighed. He didn’t think he was an easy person to read, but Yeonjun saw so much of him in such a short period of time. “I don’t really know, either. I’m sorry,” he said again, to which Yeonjun just shrugged.

“It’s fine. It’s not like it’s the end of the world or anything. But I’d appreciate it if you’d stop pretending like this is all my fault.” Yeonjun stood, then, taking his drink with him. He looked as though he were at a bit of a loss. “I think I’m gonna reschedule my study session. Thanks for the coffee. I’ll see you on Monday.” He gave Soobin a short wave, ducked his head, and was out the door in under fifteen seconds.

He wondered at what point in his life had Yeonjun’s retreating back become a familiar sight.

───────✧❁✧───────

A few weeks passed without incident after that. They had reached a stalemate, Yeonjun and him, and there was nothing else to do besides pretend everything was normal. The student had been surprisingly inconspicuous, keeping to himself and his friends, and doing nothing to provoke Soobin.

It was for the best.

And he couldn’t stand it.

At some point, Soobin was going to have to acknowledge the fact that he was deeply infatuated. But even bringing the thought to mind felt like he was committing a crime, somehow.

His cravings were no longer as easily satisfied. It took more than a look at Yeonjun to make him complacent again. He wanted to speak with him, learn more about him, bring him to places he liked, and see the things that were special to Yeonjun in return.

A very dark, selfish part of himself wanted more.

On one of his particularly difficult days, that part of him escaped.

It had been a mess of a Thursday from the start, to be fair. Due to a sleepless night, he was late arriving at the academy, and made it into his class before first period by a fraction of a second. His students were abnormally rowdy and mindless, as if the entire class decided they just wouldn’t do any work that day, and so nothing in his lesson plan got done. This put them behind schedule for the upcoming week, something he had to spend his lunch break reorganizing instead of eating. By the end of the day, he was tired, hungry, and frustrated, and Yeonjun was sitting in his seat in the back row, flirting endlessly with Kim Jinsung.

Light touches he must have thought were inconspicuous. Leaning between their desks, sharing pens and notes, hands brushing together. Soobin observed as Yeonjun delicately tucked his own hair behind his ear, flashing the other student a pretty smile.

It irritated him to no end. Not just because they were flirting in the middle of his class, but because Yeonjun could do infinitely better. Kim Jinsung was the son of an arena engineer, with absolutely wasted potential. Overly devoted to his hobbies to the point where he was failing nearly all subjects, he was a stereotypical handsome jock, and a stupid one at that.

Of course, that must be why Yeonjun liked him. Easy to play with, easy to manipulate, he was perfect prey for Yeonjun’s little games. Just attractive and fun enough to keep him entertained.

Even this would have been manageable.

But it was the whispering and giggling throughout his last lecture of the day that drove Soobin over the edge.

He didn’t lose his composure in class- even he knew better than to be so obvious. Instead, he finished the lesson and dismissed his students, but called out calmly, “Kim Jinsung-ssi, Choi Yeonjun-ssi, please see me before you leave.”

They exchanged glances, both smiling that signature Uh oh, hope we weren’t caught look that teenagers sometimes wore when they thought their mistakes were funny. Yeonjun kept looking at Soobin as he packed his things, maybe seeking reassurance that he wasn’t in trouble, but Soobin refused to acknowledge him, only saying, “Yeonjun-ssi, please wait in the hall until I ask for you.”

Confused, Yeonjun frowned but slung his bag over his shoulder, giving Jinsung one last look before ducking out the door. Once it shut behind him, Soobin motioned towards the other student.

“What’s up?” Jinsung asked, lazy and disrespectful from the start. Soobin didn’t take it personally- it’s just the way the boy was. He was tall -not nearly as tall as Soobin, but enough for him to want them on more even footing- so he stood at his desk.

“Well, I wanted to speak with you about your recent grades,” Soobin explained, slipping a few papers from his folder. “Your average had been pretty a consistent ninety-percent from July through August, but this last month I’ve noticed a steady decline into failing percentages, and I was hoping you’d be able to explain.”

Jinsung glanced at his red-marked assignments, at the door, then up at Soobin. “I’ve been busy with sports and stuff. Just prioritizing, you know?”

Soobin maintained a pleasant smile as he said, “Mm, is that so? Because as I understand it, we’re currently not in any competitive athletic season. Soccer is finished, and basketball doesn’t even begin until November, right around the same time as your college entrance exams. I would think it would be most logical to prioritize your studies, wouldn’t you?”

The student shifted uncomfortably on his feet, unable to look Soobin in the eyes. “I’ve got other things going on in my life. Not everything can be about school.”

Other things such as wasting class time flirting with Choi Yeonjun, is what Soobin understood.

“May I give you some advice?”

Jinsung seemed slightly resistant to the idea, but nodded.

“Personally,” Soobin began, slipping Jinsung’s recent assignments back into his folder. “I would recommend cutting out unnecessary distractions. Spending time with friends is all good and well, but all good things come in moderation, yes? Set aside an hour for socializing a day. Keep it out of the classroom. When you’re sitting in that seat, during my teaching period, I expect you to be learning. And when you fail to do so, you waste not just everyone’s time, but an opportunity to succeed.” Jinsung’s eyes were wide, and Soobin felt a confirmed sense of victory as he added, “I don’t think failing your CSATs is in line with your plan to become an engineer. Correct?”

Jinsung nodded again, this time more serious, and there was a note of shame in his voice as he mumbled, “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Soobin handed the folder to him. “Remedy this. Bring these back to me with proper corrections by Thursday, and I’ll give you the higher of the two scores. But I won’t offer something like this again, do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Jinsung repeated again with a bowed head, taking the folder. “Um, thanks.”

Soobin acknowledged him with a short nod. “You’re free to go. Please send Yeonjun-ssi to me.”

When Yeonjun came shuffling into the room, he looked thoroughly perplexed. “What did you say to Jinsung?” he immediately asked. “He looked like he was going to cry. I tried asking him what was wrong but he just walked straight past me.”

Soobin blinked. “I simply gave him some academic advice and an opportunity to correct his behavior. Do you think that was wrong of me?”

Startled, Yeonjun said, “Wait, why are you asking me? It’s none of my business.”

“Well, considering how close the two of you seem, I thought you might have an opinion.”

“Close…?” Yeonjun glanced at the door, where Jinsung had surely disappeared entirely from now, then back at him. He tilted his head. “Is that what this is about?”

Soobin smoothed out his dress pants. “I have no idea what you’re referring to. Would you mind taking a seat, Yeonjun-ssi?”

His pursed lips very much indicated that he wanted to talk about this more, but even his boldness hadn’t quite reached that level, so Yeonjun nodded and pulled a chair over.

“Your research paper,” Soobin said simply, and located the physical copy, laying it on the desk in front of Yeonjun. “The first draft isn’t bad, but I know you can do better. What do you think it’s missing?”

Yeonjun slowly flipped the pages between his fingers, scanning his own writing for a moment. “Duration, I guess. It’s not that long. But I can’t think of anything else to write about.”

“Your topic is decently extensive. An overview of the economic and sociopolitical effects of open trade with the West, from the perspective of two-hundred years later no less, has a lot of potential. But I think you could benefit from narrowing your focus.”

Yeonjun cocked his head cutely. He looked like a curious cat. That action alone made it very difficult for Soobin to do his job. “What do you mean?”

“I think you’re trying to tackle too much at once,” Soobin elaborated. “Choose one overarching topic, whether it’s economic, political, etc. In this case, having a deeper understanding of one thing is better than having a shallow understanding of many. It will be more useful to you when you sit your exams to have that knowledge to draw on for the written portion. This way, too, you can deviate into more cohesive sub-topics. For example, if you choose economics, you can differentiate between government, business, and social. Which, given your upbringing, I assume you already have a good understanding of.”

Soobin didn’t try to pry in his students’ personal affairs much, but he knew from a quick glance at Yeonjun’s records at the start of the year that his parents oversaw a chain of well-known banks across the country. This was the kind of assignment where personal knowledge came in handy, and would aid him later in his exams.

“Okay…” Yeonjun said slowly, and set his paper down. “I think I can do that. Did you want anything else?”

Right now, having to remain composed, while internally Soobin was at the end of his tether, he wanted everything. Although, the last thing he wanted to do right now was talk about Yeonjun’s stupid essay. It was completely fine. If he submitted it as is, he would certainly pass. But that didn’t benefit Soobin in any way.

“Mm, let’s look at page three for a moment,” he said, and came around his desk to stand beside Yeonjun. It was easier to demonstrate this way, after all. He braced a hand against the back of Yeonjun’s chair, and used the other to point at a paragraph. Yeonjun remained in his seat, but looked up at Soobin as he hovered over him. “Look,” he prompted, and Yeonjun quickly glanced back down at his essay. “Your commentary here is minimal compared to the direct evidence you provided. If you’re going to quote this much from a source, your elaboration has to be of at least equal length, if not longer.”

The room was quiet, silent enough for Soobin to hear the change in Yeonjun’s breathing, becoming shorter and faster the longer he stood over him.

“The point of the paper isn’t to just provide facts from other sources. That would be redundant. The point is to use those sources in corroboration to support your own claim.”

“Right…” Yeonjun said, the slight tremor in his voice betraying him.

“Now look here,” Soobin said, and dragged his finger down to another paragraph. At some point, his voice grew deeper, softer. “I think you should cut this section out entirely. It essentially just repeats everything you stated above.”

“O-okay.”

“Is there anything else you think needs changing?”

He was leaning completely over Yeonjun now, mouth by his ear, his voice nothing more than soft murmur. “Um.” Yeonjun turned his head up, meeting Soobin’s gaze, before falling to his lips. The air felt electric. He looked back up at Soobin before saying, “I’ll need new sources.”

His eyes were stunning. Wide, sparkling, and unsure. A strand of dark hair fell into his face, and almost automatically, Soobin reached to tuck it back behind his ear.

He froze as soon as he realized what he was doing, but Yeonjun whispered, “It’s okay. You can touch me.”

He couldn’t. He shouldn’t. Nothing justified this, yet somehow, Soobin didn’t know how to simply pull away like before. His fingers were in Yeonjun’s hair before he even had time to think about it rationally, brushing it back from his forehead, gentle and soothing. His hair felt soft in his hand. “You’re so beautiful,” he replied just as quietly.

Soobin let his fingers drag down the back of Yeonjun’s neck, and the student trembled. “Sir…”

“Is it wrong that I think that?” The words rumbled in his throat, and Yeonjun licked his lips before giving a slight shake of his head. He shouldn’t put the weight of such a question on Yeonjun. It wasn’t his responsibility to validate Soobin’s desires, and tell him everything was fine.

Still, it pleased something inside him to hear, “I like that you think that.”

Soobin carded his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair one more time before murmuring, “I’m not supposed to.”

Gently, Yeonjun turned his cheek in, pressing it against Soobin’s palm. He could feel his soft breath against his hand. A series of innocent touches that somehow felt more erotic than any sexual encounter Soobin had experienced. “I want you to,” Yeonjun whispered.

He brushed his thumb along Yeonjun’s prominent cheekbone. “You’re not really seeing that stupid boy, are you?”

Yeonjun’s eyes were shut, lashes fanned against his tan skin. “No.”

Soobin simply watched him for a moment, until his eyes opened, and his gaze was honest. He believed him. “Good.”

When Soobin drew away, Yeonjun asked timidly, “It would bother you, wouldn’t it?”

Soobin hesitated, then answered, “Yes. It would.” He circled back around his desk, once again assuming his proper role. The departure of his conscience had been swift and exhilarating, but it couldn’t last.

“Sir-”

“You’re free to go, Yeonjun-ssi. Make those revisions to your paper, the second draft is due two Mondays from now.” Soobin did his best, but knew he sounded unconvincing. He didn’t have it in him to be Yeonjun’s teacher at the moment.

Yeonjun bit his lip in displeasure, obviously wanting to continue their conversation, but kept himself in check for once. “Okay.” He stood and gave Soobin a shy bow. “See you tomorrow, sir.”

Soobin nodded. “Enjoy your evening.”

Once he left, Soobin did everything he could to push their interaction from his mind. It would drive him mad if he thought about it for even a second.

But hours later, at home, in his own bed, he knew he couldn’t escape it. He stared into the darkness for far too long trying to fall asleep, but the scene just kept replaying in his head. It unfolded like a movie, one he desperately wanted to see again. Not just see, but touch.

Taste.

A sadistic voice in him kept planting the seed, what if he had kissed him?

And even Soobin, with all of his self-doubt and second-guessing, knew the answer. Yeonjun would have let him. His eyes said enough, wide and willing, but all it did was remind Soobin that Yeonjun was naive. It wasn’t fair to say Yeonjun would have let him because he wanted it. More than likely, his admiration of Soobin blinded him to all the awful things he did. It was because he was older, because Yeonjun trusted him to know best, that he had already gotten away with so much.

There was no other explanation as to why he kept inviting Soobin in.

What did Soobin even have to offer? Yeonjun was young, talented, and desirable. From what Soobin had observed, everyone who came across him eventually fell in love with him. Adults doted on him and his peers wanted to be him. Soobin frequently heard the other boys talking about him when he wasn’t around, in admiration, jealousy, and intimidation. Regardless of the reason, he was famous as far as their little academy went.

So why choose him?

Distantly, he heard Yeonjun’s voice in the back of his head, reminding him of their argument in August. It’s precisely because I could have all of them that I think it’s fun to play with you instead.

And if that was truly the case, then it made Soobin feel worse, but less conflicted. Yeonjun wasn’t singling him out for any personal reason. It wasn’t because he was overly attractive or interesting, but because he was strictly off-limits. If that were to change, if he opened himself up, wouldn’t Yeonjun grow bored and move onto someone else?

Then again, maybe that would be for the best. If he just pretended to give up and lured Yeonjun into thinking he’d won, then this whole thing would come to an end. He wouldn’t constantly feel like someone was watching him commit a crime.

His mind understood that it would be a sinful sacrifice, one where he got everything he wanted only to allow it to slip between his fingers, and one that couldn’t last. But he also wasn’t confident that his heart felt the same.

As selfish as it was, he didn’t want Yeonjun to move on. Soobin would never get another chance in his life to feel like this. To desire so strongly, and be desired in return.

But if it’s true that you’re just a plaything to him, isn’t it better to move on swiftly and painlessly?

A part of him didn’t believe Yeonjun had the viciousness, or the constitution, to already be a vixen. He simply wasn’t developed enough. That kind of teasing cruelty came with age, the one thing he lacked, and the only thing Soobin had to draw on for control. He did know better than Yeonjun. It was because he was older that he knew Yeonjun couldn’t possibly be as much of a clever manipulator as he made himself out to be. It was perfectly in line for an eighteen-year-old boy to say something harsh just to see the consequences.

Rationally, Soobin knew that he might be giving himself false hope, but if that hope meant Yeonjun might actually be more enamored with him than he let on, then it was a placebo he would willingly take.

At this point, Soobin wasn’t sure when his interest in Yeonjun changed from sexual attraction to complete infatuation, but he knew he couldn’t let on just how invested he was. It would scare Yeonjun away, without a doubt.

And Soobin, having never experienced this feeling before himself, was scared in his own right. The stakes were high. Much higher than in normal relationships, which he’d never found success in to begin with. The consequences of slipping up, even the slightest amount, would be not only detrimental to him and his life, but to Yeonjun as well.

He was still young. And an experience like this would impact him forever, regardless of whether or not they did it well. The responsibility of that fell on Soobin.

Rather than add further kindling to the anxiety flaring inside him, the thought was somewhat reassuring. He would be able to take care of Yeonjun. His comfort would be in Soobin’s hands. He would have the ability to make him happy. And he could ensure that none of it fell on Yeonjun’s shoulders.

If he did things right, there was no reason it had to end badly.

It would be under his control.

Soobin was capable. A responsible adult, with a perfectly fine middle-class life, a stable job and apartment, no legal missteps, not even a traffic ticket on his record. He was healthy and secure. Wasn’t that better than one of Yeonjun’s peers, whose lives were constantly in chaos, who didn’t have their futures figured out, who were just now learning independence, and experimenting with drinking, and freedom, and sex, and all the things that could get someone in trouble?

If he thought about it logically, he was clearly the better choice. Of course, he didn’t think he’d reach a point in his life where he had to compare his worth with a population of nameless teenage boys -he’d never even done it when trying to force himself to have crushes on girls in high school- but somehow, this is where he’d ended up.

He knew Yeonjun would make fun of him if he continued to pretend that he was straight. Not maliciously, but it was so black and white to him. A privilege, in Soobin’s opinion, and he wondered what circumstances in Yeonjun’s life allowed him to feel so secure in his sexuality. Was it because they were born in different times? In different households? Or maybe the cover of going to an all-boys school his entire life let him pretend like it was phase. Soobin had gone through that phase, too, in college. Everyone could do anything they liked during those years, but as soon as you graduated, it all had to come to an end and you had to come to terms with the real world, where people weren’t so fluid.

Society had rigid rules for a reason, and Soobin was laying here contemplating how bad things could really be if he broke two of the most taboo ones. He wanted to be with a man. And he wanted to be with a man nearly half his age.

There was no way he would make it out of this unscathed. But was it a gamble he was willing to make?

The short and simple answer was yes. If it were anything else, he wouldn’t be awake at three in the morning contemplating.

Was it fair of him to change his mind after repeatedly telling Yeonjun no? Well, no, of course not. But Yeonjun would forgive him. Even hypocrites can redeem themselves with a good enough apology. He would just have to make it up to Yeonjun. He could do that. But he had to be careful.

Going about this the right way would take time. But just having that reassurance in place, that he wasn’t stuck in a perpetual spiral of doing nothing, was enough to ease him into sleep.

───────✧❁✧───────

Sun slatted through the high library windows, bright and promising. It wasn’t often that Soobin came here after hours, but he needed to meet with the librarian to discuss the required reading for next semester. Personally, he found it a bit dull and outdated, so he wanted to check and see if he could pad out the regular curriculum with books and poetry he thought were more modern and beneficial to the students in the long run. Studying literature didn’t have to be boring. With the right subject material, any student could find a passion for it.

Luckily, his recommendations passed board guidelines, and the librarian said he’d start securing the material as soon as November, so by the end of their conversation, he was in high spirits.

And as it always seemed to these days, coincidence struck at a time when he was feeling particularly upbeat. As he was making his way from the office, past the history section, he spotted a pretty, cat-like face staring anxiously at the rows of books in front of him.

"What are you looking for?"

Yeonjun whirled around, obviously surprised by Soobin’s sudden appearance. It was a bit funny- he rarely caught the student off-guard. Typically, it was the other way around. "Just…just a reference for my history paper. For my new topic. One of the databases recommended it."

Pleased Yeonjun was taking his academic recommendations, Soobin came closer. "Mm, who’s the author?"

"Han Yoosung."

Yeonjun turned back to the shelf, running his hand along the titles. "I thought it would be here, but maybe someone else has already checked it out."

Soobin peered past him, then up, before he spotted the title. "This might be the one," he said, tapping the spine.

"Oh." Yeonjun reached for the book, stretching on his toes, but Soobin was already a step ahead of him.

"Let me," he murmured, pressing an innocent hand to Yeonjun’s upper back while he reached with the other, plucking the book from the shelf.

Yeonjun had given him permission, that day in his classroom. It’s okay, he had said so sweetly. You can touch me. And so he did. Lightly, at first.

The student went completely still and pliant, as if holding his breath, waiting for Soobin to do something else. And so, dangerous as it was, he slid his hand from his shoulders down his spine, and came to rest on the curve of his hip.

Soobin’s open palm spanned the entirety of Yeonjun’s lower back. It was a minor thing, but it stirred an intense feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"You may be taller than most of your classmates," he said quietly. "But you still look rather cute to me when you try to reach the top shelf."

"Maybe I’ll surpass you one day, sir," Yeonjun did his best to tease, just like always, but his voice came out breathy. Slowly, the feeling crept under Soobin’s skin, hot and demanding.

He squeezed Yeonjun’s hip once before whispering, "I doubt it," and withdrawing his hand. He had done enough touching for one day. "Good luck on your paper, Yeonjun-ssi," he said at normal volume. "I look forward to reading it."

Yeonjun’s eyes were wide when Soobin stepped away from him, and he didn’t manage to get a single word past his lips, although he opened and closed his mouth more than once. That was quite alright by him- Yeonjun was just as lovely when he was at a complete loss for words, and it made Soobin feel as though he’d finally one-upped him in something.

“You have a showcase tomorrow, don’t you?” Soobin remembered just when he was about to leave Yeonjun to his studies.

The student nodded, clutching the book to his chest. Words still hadn’t returned to him.

“Good luck, then. Or…is that the proper phrase? I’m not sure, actually. I know it’s bad luck in theater.”

Yeonjun nodded again, then finally managed, “Luck…has nothing to do with, honestly. But it’s the thought that counts, so thank you, sir.”

“Mm,” Soobin replied with a smile, then made to leave once more when a hand flashed out and grabbed his wrist.

“Wait,” Yeonjun said, hanging on tightly. “You should come.” Then, maybe upon seeing Soobin’s change in expression, Yeonjun dropped his hand and hastily said, “It’s normal for teachers to come. The performance is open to everyone.”

He couldn’t think of any way to turn him down without hurting his feelings, but it felt wrong to accept at the same time. They had already met outside of class one too many times. Still, Yeonjun didn’t want to take no for an answer.

“I…would you?” he asked, more gentle this time. “Please? It would mean a lot more than luck.”

Soobin opened his mouth to decline, then sighed. He tried to read Yeonjun’s gaze as he asked, “Why does it mean so much to you?”

“It would sound stupid,” Yeonjun muttered, although his voice betrayed his insecurity. “Please don’t make me explain it.”

Very rarely did Yeonjun explicitly outline boundaries. Surprised, Soobin did as he asked. “Very well. I won’t. What time is your competition at?”

Instantly lighter with relief, Yeonjun answered, “It starts at five, in the main auditorium. Does…that work for you?”

Soobin nodded. “I’ll be there.”

A bright smile on his face, Yeonjun hugged the book even closer to his chest and said, “Thank you, sir. I promise you’ll have fun.” His cheeks looked fuller when he smiled like that. Devastatingly cute. How had Soobin even contemplated saying no earlier?

“I’m sure I will,” Soobin replied genuinely, then said, “You should get back to your research now, Yeonjun-ssi. A competition on Saturday doesn’t cancel out a paper due Monday.”

Yeonjun nodded eagerly, although Soobin could tell he had no intention of opening that book tonight. “Yes, sir. Enjoy the rest of your afternoon.”

“You as well,” he murmured, and was finally able to actually leave the aisle, departing the library with a conflicted head and heart.

───────✧❁✧───────

It wasn’t as awkward as he imagined. When Yeonjun said it was normal for teachers to come, he was being honest. A good number of the faculty took up seats in the auditorium, mostly arts and athletics staff, but Soobin assimilated easily enough. The mathematics teacher, Kim Yunho, had decided to attend, too, so he had an acquaintance to sit with. They often ran into each other in the halls since their homerooms were only a few meters apart. Yunho typically taught Soobin’s students in the morning, and sometimes brought him a cup of tea from the staff room.

“I didn’t think you were interested in the students’ extracurriculars,” Yunho mused while they waited for the showcase to start.

“I’m trying to participate more,” Soobin replied. “Now that I’m getting used to working here.”

A friendly elbow came his way. “I’m sure it’s a little different than public schools, hm? I’ve never actually been in one, myself.”

Thinking back to what both Yeonjun and the headmaster had said, Soobin asked, “Did you go to school here, then?”

Yunho grinned, as if it were obvious. “The application just slides right through if you’re alumni. Not a bad job when you’re older. Of course, I went to law school, but now that I’m getting up in years, I like something a little more laid back. Calculus is easy once you get to the senior level- the kids practically teach themselves, not to mention the calculators that will do everything for you. It’s comfortable. Decent pension, too, although I don’t really need it.”

Of course he went to law school. Soobin couldn’t decide whether he felt offended or not, knowing his career was seen as an easy second choice to the upper class.

Instead, he chose to focus on something less serious. He didn’t want to start an argument with the closest thing to a friend he had on campus. “Getting up in years? I find that hard to believe.”

Chuckling, Yunho said, “Not all of us are born looking like drama leads, Soobin-ssi. I may have had work done once or twice.”

It was a roundabout compliment, one he didn’t quite know how to accept. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t be able to tell.”

Yunho smacked his lips in amusement and clapped him on the shoulder. “What a sweet talker. You should come out after the show.”

Startled, Soobin frowned. “Um, what?”

“For drinks, I mean.” Oh, of course. “Usually Bohyuk, Seongmin, and I grab a round after school events.” The chemistry and physics teachers. Soobin didn’t know them personally. “Take the edge off, you know?”

“The edge…?”

“You know,” Yunho repeated, looking amused. “Having to be around teenagers all the time, it’s exhausting. Then again, you’re young. It probably hasn’t gotten to you yet.” He clapped his shoulder again in sympathy. Soobin wished he’d stop touching him. Older men were always a little too comfortable when it came to making friends. “It’ll come with time, don’t you worry. Soon enough, you won’t be able to stand the little brats.”

Frankly, Soobin didn’t think referring to the students as little brats would do anyone any favors, but he kept his mouth shut on the subject. The last thing he needed to do was disagree with his senior, especially in a new workplace. And not on a topic that he really shouldn’t get any say in in the first place.

“I appreciate the invitation,” he said with a small smile. “Unfortunately, I’m a bit busy this evening. I think I may have to take a raincheck.”

Yunho returned his smile, the skin around his eyes crinkling. “Ah, no need to be so polite, I understand. Next time, then.”

“Mm,” Soobin agreed, dipping his head respectfully. “Do you come to all these events?”

“Most of them,” Yunho said with a nod. “The headmaster likes staff to attend. It ensures the seats are full, and boosts the kids’ morale.”

“Does he ever attend himself?”

“Not unless it’s a major event for the school, like championship games or competitions. He’s more interested in athletics than in stuff like this, to be quite honest. I think it’s a miracle the academy started offering programs like dance and theater at all.”

Curious, Soobin cocked his head. “Why is that?”

Yunho glanced at the empty stage, then back at him before saying quietly, “Well, it’s not entirely masculine, is it? I mean, it’s an all-boys academy. And certainly, the arts programs are open to the public, but the participation is still mostly among students. I don’t think they would have been approved it all, if it weren’t for Lee Seokyoung.”

Slightly embarrassed, Soobin had to ask, “I’m still unfamiliar with most of the staff. That is…?”

“The arts department head,” Yunho said, then nodded towards the stage. “She’s back there right now with the students.”

“Did she secure a grant or something?”

Yunho shrugged. “Maybe. Most likely. But that’s not why her proposal got approved.”

“Why, then?”

Yunho looked around once more to make sure no one was listening before lowering his voice. “The headmaster has a bit of a thing for her. She’s too young for him, and has told him no more than once, but he’s blind to it, and gives her everything she needs for her department.”

Soobin’s frown deepened. “Isn’t that against school board policy?”

The irony of it didn’t go over his head. He was in no place to be bringing up school board policy. Especially when, in his staff handbook, the rule Staff shall not engage in inappropriate conduct with students of any form, and failure to comply may result in termination of employment, fines of up to one million won, and possible jail time, was written in red letters on page five. He knew because he checked. Several times. Just to make sure it didn’t change.

Once again, Yunho seemed unfazed. “Do you really think the board would bring up issues of misconduct with the headmaster? Besides,” he went on, not waiting for Soobin to reply. “She’s no angel herself.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Well, this is just a rumor, but she’s awfully close to one of the students.”

Suddenly, Soobin knew where this was headed. “You mean Choi Yeonjun?” he guessed, and Yunho looked pleased.

“Exactly. Her star student. She dotes on him, maybe a bit too much if you ask me.”

Carefully, Soobin said, “From what I’ve observed, everyone seems to dote on him.” He knew their relationship wasn’t anything scandalous, but it wasn’t his place to divulge Yeonjun’s business to his co-workers, either.

“Mm, he’s popular,” Yunho agreed. “Handsome, too. He’ll go far in life. He’s got a good mother.”

Curious, Soobin inquired, “Have you met her?”

“In passing. She’s a little…” He tossed the idea around in his head for a moment before settling on, “overprotective. She’s one of the more proactive parents, if you get what I mean.”

Soobin read between the lines. Essentially, Yunho was inferring that she had no problem inserting herself into the academy’s business if she was concerned about the welfare of her son. Which, in theory, just meant that she was a good parent. But for him, that particular personality trait could spell bad things.

“Shh, I think it’s starting,” Yunho suddenly hushed him, although he hadn’t said a word. But sure enough, the lights in the auditorium dimmed, leaving only the stage lit.

To be honest, Soobin hadn’t really gone into the showcase with expectations. Certainly, he’d heard from both the staff and students alike that Yeonjun was a talented dancer, but he’d never really thought about it past simply knowing.

However, seeing was something else entirely.

He was sitting there for a good while, enduring performances from other schools, local dance groups, and the like, but it felt like the entire room was anticipating something in particular. And that something came at the very end, one of the final performances from their own school.

Soobin didn’t know enough about dance to comment with too much detail, but to him, the entire stage was mesmerizing. Yeonjun danced in a trio, composed of himself, a boy Soobin didn’t know, and Choi Beomgyu, to his surprise. And from what he did understand about dance, the choreography itself seemed to be some modern blend of hip-hop and contemporary.

The majority of all this was just obligatory awareness. His mind was on something else entirely, completely bewitched by how graceful and powerful Yeonjun appeared on stage. Every line of his movement was sharp and clean, both fluid and striking. He commanded attention even more so than in everyday life. His expressions were perfect, but effortless. He made it look as though he’d created the music itself, the way he felt every beat and seemed to hold the rhythm together with his own two hands.

Those four minutes were the fastest of Soobin’s entire life, gone in the blink of an eye, but leaving him with so many impressed images, all of them starring Yeonjun.

At the end of the performance, the three of them gazed out into the crowd, Yeonjun standing center. Fierce and radiant. Soobin knew he couldn’t see him through the wall of lights bearing down on the stage but wished he at least knew that he had kept his promise and stayed for the whole show. It would have been a mistake to miss out on his performance- it showed Soobin an entirely new side of him. One that only drew him in more.

Their performance had been the evening’s closer, and once the department head -Lee Seokyoung, he now knew- thanked everyone for coming, the house lights came back up. The students came out in clusters from backstage, rushing to see parents and laugh with friends. Yeonjun and Beomgyu came out together as well, and hung around the front of the stage. Their families didn’t seem to be around yet.

Soobin decided to wait after the performance, figuring it would be rather awkward if he approached Yeonjun around his parents. Of course, he could easily explain away his presence -he was Yeonjun’s teacher, after all- but he had a shitty poker face, and knew he’d end up giving something away.

So, he made small talk with his co-workers for a while, adding to the mindless babble of the auditorium. However, fifteen minutes later, he looked back over at the stage and realized Yeonjun was still hovering there with a group of his friends, slightly apart from them. They were all surrounded by their families, holding bouquets and receiving congratulations. And Yeonjun, the star of the show, had nothing but a fake smile on his face.

He couldn’t stand watching it for even a second longer. Without much thought, Soobin excused himself from his conversation and waded through the crowd. People easily parted for him, just like they always did, and soon enough, he was right behind the student.

“Hey,” he said softly.

Startled, Yeonjun turned sharply, then his eyes widened. “I didn’t think- You actually came…”

He looked astonished, gazing at Soobin as if he were a beautiful, unexpected anomaly, like a new star discovered in a particularly fascinating galaxy. Far away, yet right in front of him at the same time.

Soobin blinked. He hadn’t expected Yeonjun to react so strongly. “I promised that I would.”

Yeonjun leaned in closer to hear him as he said, “Yeah, but people promise things all the time. I never thought you were being serious.”

“I don’t make promises that I don’t plan to keep, Yeonjun-ah,” Soobin replied gently, only to become quickly concerned when he saw Yeonjun’s eyes growing watery.

It all began to make sense. When Soobin asked why Yeonjun wanted him to come, he hadn’t even been able to look him in the eyes when he muttered, It would sound stupid. Please don’t make me explain it.

Now, Soobin understood. Yeonjun was still standing alone and empty-handed because his parents didn’t come. And Yeonjun already knew that they wouldn’t, but he waited for them anyway. More than likely, they had promised a hundred times before that they would be there for him, but never were when it mattered. He wouldn’t be close to tears now if he wasn’t so used to being let down.

Soobin felt his resolve harden, and for the first time, felt a pointed sense of animosity towards the other adults in Yeonjun’s life.

Even if Yeonjun’s parents forgot him, Soobin still had the power to make his evening special.

“I forgot something in my car. Would you like to walk to the parking lot with me?”

Yeonjun nodded quickly, and was already a step ahead of Soobin to leave the auditorium. He didn’t care if they looked out of place, leaving together like this, with Yeonjun still in his performance clothes and Soobin so very clearly not a family member. His hypervigilance and anxiety took a backseat to Yeonjun’s happiness. Some things were simply more important.

Outside, under the cover of darkness and the haze of street lights, Soobin felt comfortable saying, “Your performance was incredible, by the way. You’re very talented.”

Yeonjun glanced back at him, slowing now that they were away from the crowd and breathing fresh air. “You don’t have to flatter me,” he said, unconvinced for some reason.

“Do you think I would say it if I didn’t mean it?”

After a beat of hesitation, Yeonjun answered, “No, I guess you wouldn’t. Thank you.”

It was a chilly autumn evening. Yeonjun wore nothing but a black silky tank top and jeans, and he had his arms wrapped around himself.

Soobin walked beside him, careful not to stand too close, or say anything too sensitive, although he didn’t like seeing him suffer from the cold. “Would you like my coat? I wore two.”

Yeonjun glanced at him, only to confirm that, sure enough, Soobin was wearing a long coat layered over both a cardigan and a sweater, and nodded.

“Here,” he said, slipping it off and draping it over Yeonjun’s shoulders. The student pulled it close around him, just holding it for a moment, before he properly put his arms in the sleeves. It was a bit too long, but fit nicely otherwise, perfectly snug across his broad shoulders. Soobin doubted he looked half as fashionable as Yeonjun when he wore it.

They walked in silence for a few moments, occasionally catching the sounds of other people leaving the school, laughter and snatches of conversation that melted like white noise into the wind.

Soobin didn’t want to waste the time they had together.

“What do you like about dance?” A simple conversation starter.

“Well, a lot of my friends are in it,” Yeonjun said with a shrug, giving just as simple of a response as he shoved his hands in the coat’s pockets and out of the cold. Selfishly, Soobin wished he could hold them instead. “And I’m good at it, thanks to enough practice.”

That sounded more like the Yeonjun he knew. “Nothing more than that?”

A few seconds passed, contemplative and quiet, before Yeonjun concluded, “It feels good, when you execute a move right. It makes me happy. I like focusing on dance and learning more the longer I do it. The way some people like reading, or mathematics, or learning languages. It makes sense in my head. Everything just feels…right.” Then, Yeonjun looked up at him and asked, “Do you have anything like that?”

Soobin nodded. “That’s how I felt about literature in college. I enjoyed writing, not because I had to, but because it felt comfortable and fitting.”

“Do you still write?”

Yeonjun’s curiosity surprised him- they almost never talked about Soobin’s life. In fact, he’d done his best to steer clear of the topic completely. But sharing little bits and pieces like this didn’t seem so out of place. “Sometimes. Not as often as I used to. Unlike you, I wouldn’t say I’m particularly good at it. But I like to think it might interest someone, someday.”

“I’d read it.”

A snort of disbelief escaped Soobin. “You won’t even read three pages out of your history book.”

“Well, my history book doesn’t have you in it,” Yeonjun countered, always having a witty remark on the tip of his tongue. Just the right thing to make Soobin laugh and panic simultaneously.

“That’s not a good enough excuse,” Soobin reprimanded, although his voice betrayed his amusement. They were near his car now, and he pulled out his keys, the lights flashing when he unlocked it. He opened the door to the backseat, retrieving what he’d come out to the parking lot for. “Here.”

Yeonjun stared at the small bouquet of pure white roses. They were tied with a light blue ribbon. “What’s that for?”

Soobin extended his hand, trying not to grow self-conscious under his stare. “For you. Or at least, that was the idea. I thought it was customary to give the performers flowers.”

Nearly everyone else had received a bouquet except for Yeonjun.

Almost as if he were in a trance, Yeonjun stepped forward and took them. They weren’t much, a bit small and unassuming at first glance, but that’s why Soobin had picked them. Each rose was still perfect and beautiful. It wasn’t overly dramatic or suggestive. Cool and elegant, something he thought suited Yeonjun.

“They’re beautiful.” When he accepted the flowers, their fingers brushed together. “Do you mind if we sit here for a minute?” Yeonjun suddenly asked. “My legs hurt, I think I might be getting a cramp in my calf.”

Concerned, Soobin looked at the school, gauging the distance to walk back. “Should I take you to the nurse?”

“No, no,” Yeonjun declined. “It’s nothing serious, it usually happens after showcases. I just need to sit.”

“Okay,” Soobin reluctantly agreed, and opened the passenger door for him, helping him inside. “Is anyone waiting for you? How are you planning to get back home?”

The last thing he needed was a kidnapping charge on top of everything else.

Yeonjun looked up at him from the car, hands in his lap, sitting pretty and innocent. “No one’s waiting for me. I’ll take the subway, like always.”

Soobin was skeptical, but said, “Alright,” before shutting the door behind him and coming around the other side, slipping into the driver’s seat. He started his car to get the heat going, and in the darkness, with the radio playing quietly in the background, he began to feel at ease.

In fact, if he relinquished his worries for a minute and allowed himself to enjoy the atmosphere, he might even say it was nice.

In the dim glow of the dashboard, he saw Yeonjun wince and pull his leg up, pressing his fingers to his calf. He moved the bouquet to the top of the dashboard to make room.

“Is there something that usually helps?” he asked, not wanting to see him in pain.

Yeonjun shut his eyes, breathing through his nose. “Hot packs, then cold packs usually. Elevating it. And massages when I’m short on time.”

“I think I might have hot packs,” Soobin said, reaching in front of him to open the glovebox.

Yeonjun shook his head, and pushed his hand away. “It’s no good without the cold packs. I’m better off just waiting it out.”

He weighed the pros and cons of making a different offer, and eventually came to the conclusion that it didn’t have to be strange if it came from good intentions.

Tentatively, Soobin suggested, “I could massage it for you if you’d like.”

Yeonjun looked a little stunned at the thought, and Soobin couldn’t blame him. But he wasn’t suggesting it out of a place of self-interest. Or at least, he could tell himself that.

“Wouldn’t it be weird…?” Yeonjun asked, hesitant.

“If you’re not comfortable, you don’t have to say yes,” Soobin was quick to amend. “I was just offering.”

“No, I mean for you.”

“Oh.” That wasn’t the response he anticipated. Yeonjun always had a strange way of looking at things. “No, I don’t see why it would be.”

After a moment, Yeonjun nodded. “Okay. One sec.” He switched his position in the seat, bracing his elbows on the armrest and hoisting his legs up, tucking one underneath him while extending the other over the console. Soobin turned as well so Yeonjun could rest his leg in his lap. “Here,” Yeonjun said, rolling up his pant leg.

Soobin tried not to stare, but Yeonjun was making this whole thing harder than it needed to be. He didn’t have to show off his slender, shaved legs, but of course he did. Soobin didn’t even want to think about why Yeonjun would possibly feel the need to shave his legs in the first place.

Compared to the rest of his body, his legs were particularly lean, entirely thin muscle, and Soobin was afraid of hurting him. “Are you sure?” he asked again just to be certain.

Yeonjun kept his gaze down but nodded. “Yeah, go ahead.”

While Soobin carefully worked his fingers against Yeonjun’s soft skin, he did his best not to think about how the smallest things became beautifully intimate with him. It was a bit effortless, the way they fell into moments like this, and affected him more than he cared to let on. It wasn’t necessarily erotic, and it didn’t have to be. Soobin simply liked the feeling of taking care of him. Nurturance was a skill he learned later in life, having always been the youngest among friends and family, but he had someone to nurture now, as temporary as it may be. And perhaps Yeonjun was a bit stubborn, and petulant, and nearly always convinced that he was right, but Soobin liked those things about him too. They were similar in that way, which made him even more fond.

Slowly but surely, under the consistent massaging of his hands, Yeonjun’s muscles began to relax and loosen up. The student watched him this whole time, focused on the movement of his fingers, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth and a crease in his forehead. Not exactly on edge, but tense all the same.

“Is it helping?” Soobin’s voice was just barely louder than the murmur of the radio.

“Mm. It’s starting to feel better.”

A minute or so passed in comfortable silence between them before Soobin took his hands away and Yeonjun carefully bent his knee, testing the muscle.

“Good,” Yeonjun concluded, and maneuvered back into his seat, readjusting his pant leg. “Um, thank you. Not just for that. But for…everything. You didn’t have to come today.”

Soobin wished Yeonjun would believe him when he said, “I wanted to.”

“Still, I’m really grateful.” Yeonjun tucked his hair behind his ear, and finally looked him in the eyes. “If there’s any way I can make it up to you, please tell me.”

The implication of it didn’t fly over his head, and it wouldn’t even be the first time Yeonjun had suggested such a thing. But rather than scold him, Soobin leaned back against the door, head resting in his palm, and asked, “What is it with you and wanting to owe people so bad, hm?”

And, effortlessly coy, Yeonjun smiled. “When people do nice things for you, shouldn’t you do nice things back?”

Soobin couldn’t help himself- they eye roll came out naturally. “You’re so not subtle, Yeonjun-ah.”

Yeonjun crossed his arms, but his lips were still curved with mischief. “You never asked me to be subtle. It’s not as fun for me, anyways. You’re so pale, it’s really easy to make you blush.” Then, with Soobin’s mouth parted in shock, Yeonjun continued to tease, “Have you ever been outside before, sir? It’s refreshing and pretty, you should try it sometime.”

If they were going to tease, then Soobin was going to do it better, speaking before his mind could catch up with his mouth. “Why go outside when I get to see the prettiest thing in my classroom every day?”

Although he turned his own shade of pink, Yeonjun wasn’t embarrassed so easily. “You better be talking about me.”

“That’s a bit arrogant of you to assume. I was actually referring to the view from the second floor. The courtyard is beautiful in autumn.”

“It could do with a few more flowers,” Yeonjun mused, and brought the bouquet of roses to his nose. He shut his eyes for a moment, and Soobin had the passing thought that he wanted to count his eyelashes someday. “What would you have done if I didn’t come out here with you?”

Soobin shrugged. “I was actually planning to leave them in your locker with your other things. I didn’t think I would be seeing much of you this evening, apart from the showcase.”

“Maybe I should have pretended to be busy, then.” Yeonjun carded his hair back from his forehead, giving him a sideways look, and Soobin felt a distinct shift in the air. “That sounds romantic.”

Heart pounding, he made a soft noise of agreement. “Mm. I thought you would like it.”

Speaking so bluntly made it clear how susceptible he was right now, almost as if he were intoxicated, and Yeonjun was smart enough to see the opening. Taking his chance, he leaned closer and murmured, “Are you sure you don’t want me to repay you?” His eyes were dark and intense, hypnotizing Soobin. Yeonjun knew. He knew how badly Soobin wanted to touch him, kiss him, fuck him. He knew Soobin was going to break. And Yeonjun wanted it.

He met him halfway.

From the start, Soobin meant to be gentle. He thought that Yeonjun was beautiful and delicate, like a little glass ballerina in his palm, and he would never forgive himself for shattering it. When he imagined kissing Yeonjun, he intended it to be perfect. Gentle hands and gentle lips until they parted.

Yet now that it was happening, now that he had lost all sense of right and wrong, he didn’t have the strength. This kiss was rushed, and off-center, and desperate. His fingers laced roughly in Yeonjun’s hair, pulling him close, and he kissed him with urgency.

If he didn’t do it now, he wouldn’t get another chance.

Distantly, he registered Yeonjun’s hands trailing up his cardigan, twisting in the fabric until he was gripping him just as tightly.

He didn’t seem afraid, or delicate at all.

Yeonjun matched his desperation, as though he had been wound taut with it, ready to burst. What Soobin had envisioned as a beautiful, graceful first kiss was instead unforgivably messy, but passionate. And maybe that mattered more.

He pressed against Soobin as close as he could, on his knees in his seat, accommodating the console for both of them. Soobin wanted to kiss his neck, his shoulders, but settled for this, his lips already being more than he deserved. Full, and soft, and sweet like cherries, both receptive and eager, inviting him in for even more.

Greed, another vice of his, incited Soobin to allow his own hands to wander, falling from Yeonjun’s hair down his back, until he was holding him by the waist. He fit so perfectly in Soobin’s arms, despite Soobin having been told all his life that it was wrong to hold another man like this. Nothing about this felt wrong. It only made him desperate for it to continue.

Still, Soobin could feel Yeonjun gasping for air, and broke the kiss, letting him breathe. He brushed his nose against Yeonjun’s cheek, and felt a hand curve behind his nape.

For a moment, they just sat there, quietly holding each other, their breathing louder than the radio. But he knew it couldn’t last.

Tentatively, he dropped his hands and pulled away. "That," he said roughly, nearly as breathless as Yeonjun, "That’s all I want. I don’t need anything else from you."

Yeonjun, with his hazy eyes and red, wet lips, opened his mouth to protest but Soobin cut him off before he could speak.

“I think it’s probably best if you go. We’ve been out here too long. Others will have questions if they see us together, and I’m sure your friends are waiting for you."

His dismissal couldn’t be more clear, if not too rough, and too sudden. Yeonjun’s tongue darted out over his lips one more time before he agreed. "Okay." His voice was soft. He didn’t know what to make of everything, and Soobin couldn’t blame him. Maybe Yeonjun knew that he was scared. "Thank you again for coming today. I’m…I’m really happy that you did."

Soobin nodded. Words stuck in his throat.

Yeonjun opened the car door and stepped out, but ducked his head back in to say, "I’ll see you on Monday," before shutting it behind him.

At least he kept his flowers. In the driver’s side mirror, Soobin could see the bouquet tucked into his arms, holding it like it was something precious.

It was only back home, once again replaying the scene in his head, that Soobin realized Yeonjun had forgotten to return his coat.

───────✧❁✧───────

Monday was hell. Soobin came in late, having spent half an hour deliberating over whether or not he should just call in sick that morning. Somehow, he would rather not work at all than have to be around Yeonjun after everything that had happened. There was no possibility of simply moving past it, and now Yeonjun knew just how disgustingly selfish he was.

It wouldn’t surprise him if the student never wanted to see him again. Frankly, it would be better for both of them if he didn’t, because the alternative would be too much to fathom.

He’d missed most of his homeroom period. Thankfully, Choi Beomgyu handled attendance himself and let the students use the time to complete any last-minute assignments. He was a capable class president when it came down to it.

Soobin spent the remainder of the period at his desk, keeping his eyes firmly glued to his computer screen. Not once did he look at the students, and when the time came for him to leave for his first teaching period, he walked straight out the door.

Throughout the day, he did his best to seem engaged. It didn’t do the students any favors if their literature teacher started skipping out on them right before exams. He owed it to them and their hard work to perform his best, but his heart really wasn’t in it. He let his presentations do most of the work, and assigned short seminars instead of their scheduled lecture, leaving it to the students to teach each other. It wasn’t a bad exercise -in fact, it made them learn more- but they weren’t exactly prepared.

Still, his day passed in a blur. It felt as if he were on edge, constantly waiting for something to happen, yet somehow unsure of what that something might be.

It came at the very end of the afternoon. He didn’t have a class in his own room that day, so he thought he might be able to avoid the inevitable. Of course, that didn’t factor in the fact that Yeonjun was as clever as he was persistent.

Soobin’s room was empty when he returned to it. The last teacher who had come in -the students’ biology teacher he inferred- had left his diagrams on the electronic board. With a sigh, he started erasing the illustrations, and almost missed his classroom door open and close.

The door clicked into place, and he turned in surprise, only to see Yeonjun already at his desk. Immediately, Soobin could tell he was angry.

“The day’s over, Yeonjun-ssi.” Soobin attempted to keep himself reserved. “Don’t you have your dance academy before night classes?”

Completely ignoring the question, Yeonjun just crossed his arms. “We need to talk.”

Soobin set down the electronic eraser. “Now’s not the best time-”

“When else would we do it?” Yeonjun snapped. “Where else would I see you? It’s hard enough getting you to even look at me, let alone have a straightforward conversation.” Then, Yeonjun pointed at Soobin’s desk. “Sit.”

He blinked. “You can’t just tell me to-”

“Sit down.”

Curiously enough, Soobin found himself doing what Yeonjun said, almost as if he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it was the student’s charisma, or maybe it was Soobin’s own curiosity. He wanted to know where this was headed, even though he knew they were on a self-destructive path.

Once he was seated at his desk, the sight became more familiar. He was used to this, looking up at Yeonjun from this chair and wondering what was on his mind. The answer this time was fairly obvious, but he supposed he owed it to Yeonjun to hear what he had to say.

“Alright. What would you like to talk about?”

Yeonjun wore an incredulous expression. “Would you stop doing that?”

“Doing what?”

“Pretending like this is normal, and that everything is fine, and that you’re nothing but my teacher! It’s so frustrating, feeling like every single conversation with you starts back at square one. Like we’ve never talked before. Like you didn’t kiss me yesterday.”

“Yeonjun!” he said sharply, fear racing through him. “Keep your voice down!”

Completely unperturbed, Yeonjun just retorted, “Why should I? You’re just going to pretend like it didn’t happen either way. Maybe if I say it loud enough, you won’t be able to forget about it so easily.”

“I haven’t forgotten anything,” Soobin said, his voice quiet, placating.

Yeonjun wasn’t having any of it. Usually with enough gentle reassurance, he could calm him down, but this time was different. Soobin’s offense had been far greater yesterday than any of the times prior. “Every single day you make it seem like I’m imagining all of this. You change your mind every time I see you. What else am I supposed to think?”

Desperately, Soobin tried to get a word in, to make Yeonjun see that he never wanted him to feel invisible. “I understand-”

“Do you think it’s funny or something?” Yeonjun finally exploded, his voice sharp and angry. “Is it like a game to you? To see how much I’m willing to humiliate myself just to get you to look at me?” He spat each word, not giving Soobin a chance to speak. “Do you think I enjoy it? Because I’ll tell you right now, I don’t. It’s so frustrating, and I still can’t even figure out what you like. I’ve tried being forward, aggressive, shy, docile, everything! I even blew Kim Jinsung in the bathroom just to see if I could make you mad, make you show me some form of genuine emotion, but you didn’t even care. You were just irritated that I was gone during your lecture period.”

“Yeonjun-”

“I’m not done talking,” he hissed, slamming a hand down on Soobin’s desk. “What else could you still possibly want from me? Why do all this shit and lead me on just to change your mind as soon as I get my hopes up? Am I- am I doing something wrong?” His voice broke, which seemed to make Yeonjun even angrier. The faintest hint of his own insecurity felt like a fatal weakness.

“Yeonjun,” Soobin tried again, keeping his voice calm and steady. It was his responsibility to keep a cool head, even though he wanted to raise his voice, to force Yeonjun to listen. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“That’s not what it feels like.”

Taking a deep breath, Soobin attempted to take Yeonjun’s hand into his own, only to have him snatch it away, glaring at him. For some reason, his immaturity was more irritating than anything else. Yeonjun was perfectly justified in calling out his behavior, but acting so childish about the whole thing didn’t do him any favors.

“You’re just playing with me,” Yeonjun finally decided, and crossed his arms again, closing himself off.

His entitlement and self-righteousness were fitting for his age, but Soobin still felt the need to curb it.

"Is that what you think I’m doing?" His voice had gone dangerously quiet. Not the relaxed, slow speech he typically reserved for Yeonjun, the approach he had tried earlier, but something harsher, and far less forgiving.

If Yeonjun wasn’t going to respond to tenderness, then he needed to try something else.

Moments like these reminded Soobin of Yeonjun’s inexperience. Even now, his eyes were fierce but he still couldn’t look at Soobin directly, more a kitten than a tiger. Soobin had let him say his piece, and now it was his turn.

He placed a finger under Yeonjun’s pointed chin, lifting his head, forcing him to meet Soobin’s gaze. "Go on, then. Keep telling me what you think I should and should not do. You’re clearly so experienced and knowledgeable. Teach me."

His tone was cold, derivative, and it brought him pleasure to watch Yeonjun’s tough facade slip away. He didn’t slap Soobin’s hand away like he expected him to. Finally, a crack in his impermeable wall of confidence. “I never said-”

“Sometimes you don’t need to say anything,” Soobin cut over him. “It’s a lesson you have yet to learn, even though I tried to teach it to you on the very first day of term. You talk before you think, and it gets you into trouble. If you stopped to think, you might realize why I’m doing things this way. You might understand that this isn’t easy for me, either. If you used your head, it might occur to you that I’m trying to put what’s in your best interest above anything else.” Guilt flashed in Yeonjun’s eyes, but Soobin wasn’t finished yet. He needed Yeonjun to stop putting him on pedestal, to stop making him seem infallible. “It might also occur to you that I’m just as flawed as everyone else, and that you are incredibly dangerous for me.”

When he saw Yeonjun’s stunned expression, Soobin feared he had been too harsh. His anger, like a flash fire, had been dampened nearly as quickly as it had flared up.

He had every right to be furious, but somehow, Soobin’s own confession changed his mind. Still, he didn’t want Yeonjun to feel ashamed, either. He wasn’t trying to pick and pull at his emotions.

To lessen the sting, he added softly, “You’re dangerous because I can’t control myself around you. I understand that you’re confused and scared, and it was never my intention to make you feel that way. But this is new to me as well.”

Yeonjun sounded slightly more forgiving when he murmured, “If you just told me what you were thinking, even once, don’t you think I would understand? You don’t have to know everything. We can figure it out together.”

And he sounded so much more mature. Enough to lure him into believing they could make it work. He seemed so convinced that he could handle it. And who was Soobin to decide that he couldn’t?

"You’re going to get me in so much trouble," Soobin whispered softly, poisonously, as he stroked his thumb along Yeonjun’s cheek. He felt corrupt, drawing each word from the black well inside of him, but in the most satisfying way.

"I can keep a secret," Yeonjun promised, so sweet and eager, leaning into Soobin’s touch. He was fully forgiven with the reassurance that Soobin needed him just as badly. “I want to.”

His eyes were honest, and the selfish part of Soobin wanted to believe him. He wanted to put his faith in him, trust that he could keep his word against all odds, knowing full well it was all just a pitiful attempt at justification. He shouldn’t put the magnitude of such a promise on the shoulders of an eighteen-year-old, but he seemed so genuine.

They both wanted it.

It couldn’t really be so wrong.

"You have to promise me," Soobin said softly in Yeonjun’s ear, sealing his fate. They knew it would come to this, but being here now, the moment he’d dreamed of for months, was exhilarating. "It’ll be our secret."

Yeonjun trembled from Soobin’s breath against his ear, and he nodded again. "I promise."

"Okay," Soobin sighed, stroking along his cheek one last time before dropping his hand. Quickly, he tore a page from his lesson planner and scrawled down his personal phone number before folding it and passing the paper to Yeonjun. "You’re not to share that with anyone else. Understand?"

Yeonjun looked a little dazed but he took the paper. "Yes, sir."

"Good. Now you really should go, you’re going to be late for your dance academy."

"I think I’m already late," Yeonjun muttered, sounding more like himself, but he pocketed the paper and adjusted his bag on his shoulder. "Um…have a good evening, sir."

As if their conversation had never happened.

Soobin gave him a curt nod. "You as well."

Properly dismissed, Yeonjun dipped his head and hurried out of the room with pink cheeks, hand clutching the strap of his bag like his life depended on it.

Soobin watched him go, letting his own emotions saturate him now that Yeonjun couldn’t see. It was a pure rush of adrenaline, but it tasted like a sugar high, leaving him dizzy and breathless. His heart beat faster than it ever had in his life, knowing that one day, sometime soon, he would get the chance to be with Yeonjun away from the oppressive and ever-listening walls of this academy.

But more than anything, he was happy.

It was a funny thing, the way one person could change the entire course of another’s life. The way their lives tangled together, intertwined, and broke apart. In July, Soobin was resigned to a dull existence, to living as fully as he could with all the simple parts he’d been constructed of. He had missed opportunities strewn behind him like September leaves, all of which would have led to more beautiful things. Happiness could be as small as a vanilla cupcake saved for a Sunday morning, and that was a philosophy he’d lived by for years.

There certainly was beauty in small things. But maybe Soobin had been so wrapped up in small things that he neglected to see the importance of all the bigger ones, too. He didn’t need to have an extravagant career, he didn’t need to see all the places he dreamed of visiting, he didn’t need to fall in love.

Life wasn’t made up of necessities. Not the parts worth living, anyway. And for the first time, he’d gone down the path that promised happiness. Not simple, easy happiness. But tumultuous joy, with all the ups and downs that characterized the human experience.

It was terrifying to think about for too long. He wasn’t a risk-taker by nature, and this single endeavor would be riskier than anything else he’d embarked on in his life. But something about Yeonjun made him want to do all the things he’d never allowed himself to try before. Maybe it was Yeonjun’s own free spirit, or maybe it was the part of him that craved new experiences finally seizing the chance to escape.

The reason itself didn’t matter. Soobin just didn’t want this feeling to ever go away.

Chapter Text

The strung out, empty period of waiting cut open a gray period of agony. A gentle, silent killer that stalked Soobin at every hour.

No longer was the power in his hands. Involuntarily, he’d given it up in favor of gaining certainty. He couldn’t have held out any longer, but in giving Yeonjun his number, he surrendered control. It was a hasty decision- he should’ve asked for Yeonjun’s instead. But at the time, his mind was on the benefits, not the consequences.

He knew Yeonjun was busy. They parted at the end of school hours, but that was only the start of Yeonjun’s day. He had his extracurriculars, night classes, and individual study periods to complete well into the night. It would be a miracle if he came home before midnight.

And so, he resigned himself to exercising patience. This, at least, he was used to by now. He had done plenty of waiting before. But this was the first time he had the promise of something tangible breathing down his neck.

As petulant as it was, he wanted Yeonjun now. Too rushed, too unplanned, he knew, but that didn’t stop him from yearning for it. In fact, he was clinging to the hope that if he satisfied his hunger -the prize that set him on this pursuit in the first place- his other cravings would fade.

Perhaps, if he slept with Yeonjun just once, he would be satiated, and this strange sickness would be cured.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became, and the more desperate. As if having sex with him would be a magic antidote to the affliction of longing he’d developed. Logically, he knew sex would just add fuel to the fire that simmered under his skin whenever he was near Yeonjun. But if he could persuade himself that it would instead lead to a clean end, didn’t that make it more sympathetic? If he was so certain that spending one night with him would allow him to collect himself and move on, didn’t that make him an altruist? It would be the right thing to do. There had to be some forgiveness in that.

His phone vibrated once, then twice at a quarter past eleven. Soobin sat on his sofa in front of the television with the screen blank and a book in his hand. As soon as he saw the screen light up, he waited. He forced himself to read another page, pushing sentence by sentence, until it seemed like enough time had passed.

Even at his age, he didn’t want to seem too eager. He was a grown adult. He should have better things to do than sit around and wait for an eighteen-year-old to text.

And of course, he should have anticipated that Yeonjun would lead boldly and unconventionally. Really, he shouldn’t expect anything less.

Unknown

pink or blue

Maybe: Choi Yeonjun

this is choi yeonjun btw

Soobin couldn’t tell if he was impressed with his nonchalance or irritated by his lack of subtlety. Maybe a bit of both. He should be careful to delete any texts with his name, however.

Me

I’m going to need more context than that.

CYJ

about the first thing or the second?

Me

The first.

CYJ

oh. no u don’t get context just pick. more fun that way

Thoroughly perplexed, Soobin just decided to go along with him for now. He gave it a moment of thought; Yeonjun had been wearing blue when they first met. Light blue. A different sky than the sunset that had been unfolding overhead.

Perhaps blue was Soobin’s unlucky color.

Me

Alright, pink.

A few moments passed. Soobin figured Yeonjun had gone off to do something else, so he returned to his book, trying to become immersed so as to block any unwelcome thoughts of Yeonjun from occupying his mind.

Five minutes later, his phone vibrated again. Curious, he put a bookmark in place and retrieved his phone.

CYJ

[image attached]

Yeonjun had sent a photo of himself posing in the mirror, wearing a soft pink sweater and wide black slacks. He made a peace-sign over his eye, winking at the camera. Now Soobin knew what took him so long.

Me

That’s a very pretty outfit, but why are you sending me this?

CYJ

because i’ll be wearing it when u take me out. preferably friday night because i have exam prep on saturday

Oh yes, very bold indeed. And completely out of his mind if he thought Soobin was going to do that.

Me

I don’t believe I ever agreed to do anything of the sort.

CYJ

sure but it’s not really about you. i like being treated well, and if you want to fuck me, which we both know you do, then you have to take me out first.

He felt filthy, reading a sentence like that while imagining it in Yeonjun’s voice. Objectively, he knew Yeonjun wasn’t completely innocent or naive, but that still felt incredibly…explicit of him. Still, he wasn’t necessarily wrong, either, even though Soobin didn’t love seeing it spelled out in such plain letters. If it were him, he would’ve worded it with a bit more subtlety. Then again, Yeonjun was straightforward. There wasn’t any reason why this would be any different.

Just as he was trying to figure out how he could possibly respond to that, his phone vibrated again.

CYJ

no movies, either. i love movies but they make for shitty dates. text me the details when u figure it out <3

Feeling as though this was quickly spiraling out of control, he hastily replied.

Me

You can’t possibly expect me to actually take you on a date. Imagine if someone recognized us, I could lose my job.

A few seconds passed, and then simply:

CYJ

:(

Soobin never knew a single emoticon could be so devastating.

Me

We’ll go somewhere inconspicuous.

CYJ

:)

Me

You’re very high maintenance, do you know that?

CYJ

oh you have no idea^^

How incredibly ominous. But slightly enthralling nonetheless. Still, he wasn’t sure his heart could handle much more of this.

Me

Have a good night.

CYJ

<3 <3 <3

It took him only a few minutes to realize just how cleverly and easily Yeonjun had manipulated him into agreement. Soobin even tried putting his foot down, and making it clear that a date was impossible, but as soon as Yeonjun expressed his disappointment, he went and amended his decision.

Something like this was never supposed to happen. Yeonjun shouldn’t be able to influence him without even being in the room. Prior to this, Soobin had chalked any events of his own weak constitution up to Yeonjun’s beauty. He couldn’t say no to him when they met face-to-face because just the sight of Yeonjun drove him to make irrational decisions. But he couldn’t see him now. He couldn’t even hear his voice, and yet it happened so quickly. He gave in without a second thought.

At least now he was conscious of it, and could ensure it wouldn’t happen twice. If it did, that was his own fault. He let down his guard too much. Their relationship wasn’t supposed to develop so far, and he really should be working to curb it now.

Once again, he blamed Yeonjun. It was his fault. He talked to Soobin like an adult and tricked him into treating Yeonjun like someone his own age. It must be intentional, because he knew he would succeed. Soobin caved easily when he forgot that he was talking to a student. If Yeonjun didn’t make him forget, then he would be better at setting boundaries.

With a sigh, he rose from the sofa and set to work turning out the lights in his apartment. His own bedroom was dark, and he didn’t bother turning on the bedside lamp. He just kicked off his slippers and slid under the sheets. He had already showered and changed clothes a long time ago, killing time before Yeonjun got out of class.

An hour ago, exhaustion had been threatening to set in, and he almost fell asleep while waiting. But now, something had snuck into the back of his mind, another illicit thought, and it had his heart racing.

After tossing and turning for about half an hour, Soobin clicked his phone on. The harsh glow illuminated his face as he scrolled back up through his text messages, and eventually found the photo Yeonjun had sent him.

It was an innocent picture. Modest and cute. Yeonjun’s dark hair looked slightly wet, like he’d just gotten out of the shower, and a little dimple appeared on his cheek as a result of his sweet smile. He stood with one leg stuck out, and his tucked-in pink sweater just barely hung off his shoulder.

There was nothing erotic, or even remotely suggestive about it. But Yeonjun’s words were so blunt. It was uncharacteristic, coming from him. Or maybe Soobin just hadn’t talked to him outside of school often enough.

If there was one thing Soobin hadn’t anticipated, it was that an eighteen-year-old was already well-aware of his own worth, and he didn’t plan on selling himself short.

That threw a bit of a wrench in Soobin’s plan. After all, Soobin couldn’t just sleep with him and then bail if they were going out on dates. Every minute they spent together was a minute he spent growing more and more attached to him. It became harder to simply get what he wanted -what he must want, because what else could it be?- from Yeonjun and then distance himself completely if he knew confidently that it would upset him.

There was still time to call it all off. He could tell Yeonjun that he’d changed his mind; it was too dangerous for both of them. Soobin could still be the responsible adult and apologize for leading the student on while exiting their situation entirely.

Nothing irreversible had happened between them. And maybe now would be his last chance.

Still, his eyes roamed over the picture, and the more he looked, the greedier he got. He wanted Yeonjun. It was so fucking simple. He was too beautiful to let go. The sliver of bare skin exposed by his sweater, the innocent flush of his lips…Soobin felt himself growing hard against his thigh and he didn’t even hesitate as he quickly worked his zipper open.

It took just a moment of maneuvering to get his cock out, and soon enough he was jerking himself off to Yeonjun’s reflection in the mirror. As he looked at the image, he let his mind wander. He wondered if Yeonjun intended to make Soobin become like this, if he sent the picture hoping his teacher would use it to get off. Is that something he would do?

Even more curious, he wondered if Yeonjun was a virgin. He certainly didn’t talk like one, and most boys his age weren’t. But the virginity Soobin was curious about was a different kind than the one most boys wanted to lose.

Yeonjun had a pretty mouth- Soobin could barely take his eyes off it when they talked, enthralled with the way his lips pouted and his tongue poked between them. His mouth always looked glossy and wet, the perfect hole to fuck, and it would keep him quiet for once, too, so he couldn’t tease him the way he did.

Even Yeonjun’s fingers were pretty and pink, wrapped around his phone. They’d fit just as nicely on Soobin’s cock, replacing his own in his imagination. In his fantasy, it was Yeonjun with his small hand around him, looking up with that seductive, cat-like gaze, asking Soobin if he was doing it right. His fingers couldn’t fit him completely, so Soobin would tell him to use his mouth as well, and stroke his hair while Yeonjun did his best to take him all the way. Of course, he wouldn’t be able to fit that, either. Tears would well up in his eyes and clump his dark lashes, and he’d have to pull off, whining that Soobin was too big in that bratty, high-pitched tone of his.

Oh, it would torture Yeonjun, the boy who had to be the best at everything, and his distress would bring Soobin so much pleasure. He would persuade Yeonjun to go back down on his cock and tell him to try harder, fucking up into his throat until he stopped choking and just let Soobin use him. He’d be so proud of himself after swallowing all of Soobin’s cum, showing off his empty mouth and begging Soobin to praise him. And he would. He’d run his hand through Yeonjun’s silky hair, cup his face, and kiss him until he couldn’t think anymore. Until he was dizzy, his head empty, just limp and pliant in Soobin’s arms.

"Fuck," he gasped out, jerking his cock once, twice, until he came all over his hand and thigh.

After a few moments, he regained his breath and sighed, clicking off his phone screen. He reached over to his bedside table and grabbed a handful of tissues, cleaning the cum off as best he could, already resigned to the fact that he would need to shower again and change.

There would be time for the guilt to set in later, after the post-orgasm high wore off. But for now, he was content with the bliss his fantasy brought him, as well as the thrill in knowing he had the power to make it a reality.

He was beginning to wonder if Yeonjun was as hopelessly enamored with him, as arrogant as it sounded. He must be, right? Otherwise he wouldn’t put out so easily, or be so vocal about his desires. It wasn’t common for boys to act like that. Whorishness wasn’t an admirable trait in anyone, but Yeonjun knew Soobin liked it, and so he continued to open himself up to the possibility of disgrace in the confidence that Soobin would protect him. It was beautiful, and a bit twisted, and it made Soobin feel like the playing field was more even.

No matter how powerful Soobin felt with Yeonjun’s reputation and innocence in his hands, he couldn’t afford to forget how vulnerable he himself was in this exchange. Nothing Soobin could do to Yeonjun would ever compare to how quickly and easily Yeonjun could ruin Soobin’s life. And he supposed that was the devil’s deal. If he chose to commit a sin, of course the collateral he offered would have to be every single thing he had to give. His career would be the least of his concerns if he were in prison.

Still, he already succumbed to temptation and found himself only growing hungrier for more. Something tangible, something that would consume his senses and leave him with memories of scent and taste and touch. He craved sounds, wanting to know what Yeonjun sounded like when wrought with pleasure, if his voice grew low and husky after his throat had been fucked beyond repair, or higher in pitch and cracked as he cried out, whimpering while being bent in half and undone.

Soobin shut his eyes, feeling his cock stir once more with interest at his train of thought. A cool shower this time would do him some good. He’d gone too far for one night’s fantasizing.

───────✧❁✧───────

In class, they might even be mistaken as strangers. No longer did Yeonjun stare at him during his lectures, or linger around after hours. He kept close to his friends and behaved so normally that it made Soobin suspicious. Nearly a week passed like this, and answers became necessary.

Soobin’s teaching period that day was right before lunch, so he simply beckoned to Yeonjun while the rest of the students were busy packing their things away and filing out of the classroom.

Yeonjun approached his desk once the room was empty, looking perfectly clueless. “What is it?”

As soon as he was standing there, Soobin realized he didn’t actually have a concrete reason as to why they needed to talk. “Nothing in particular, I guess. I’ve just never seen you be so quiet for so long.”

Adjusting the strap of his bag, Yeonjun frowned. “What do you mean?”

Was Soobin missing something? “I mean, it’s strange for you to not talk to me for this long. Not even a message. Is everything alright?”

Yeonjun shifted on his feet and admitted, “Well, I was kind of waiting for you to text me. Since I told you to…you know…figure stuff out.”

Now that they were face-to-face, Yeonjun couldn’t voice his demands so upfront, and it made Soobin smile. “Ah, I see.”

“I’m sorry if I was too forward. Again,” Yeonjun rushed to say, as if the words had been building up inside him for days. “I texted you the same way I text my friends, but then I realized maybe that wasn’t entirely appropriate? But it was too late by then, so I just kinda hoped you didn’t mind, and then you didn’t say a lot, but you said goodnight, and I thought maybe I made you uncomfortable. I’m not trying to force you into anything you don’t want to do, I was just joking about the whole…date…thing, really, I know it’s not realistic.” He paused, maybe thinking he had talked too much, and muttered, “Um, sorry.”

Yeonjun wasn’t talking to him because he was waiting for Soobin to assure him that he hadn’t done anything wrong. He found it a little endearing and sad at the same time. When they were texting the other night, he was so wrapped up in his own moral dilemma that he didn’t even stop to think if he was being very nice or not. He assumed Yeonjun had tough skin, and that nothing Soobin did really bothered him, but clearly that wasn’t the case.

“I thought your texts were very funny and sweet,” he reassured him. “I’m honestly not the best at conveying my tone over text, but I’ll try harder next time.” Then, he looked Yeonjun in the eyes, both to show him that he wasn’t upset and to read what he was thinking. “Would it make you happy?” he asked. “If we went somewhere?”

Yeonjun seemed conflicted, and struggled to answer.

“Be honest,” Soobin softly encouraged. “Don’t just say what you think I want to hear.”

After a beat, Yeonjun nodded. “If it’s…if it’s really not too risky. But I want to go somewhere where you want to go. You already know a lot about me.”

Strangely enough, Soobin’s desire to please him outweighed his own self-interests. He couldn’t just expect Yeonjun to open up to him completely. They weren’t strangers, but they weren’t close, either. It was an odd way to build a relationship, even one as short and turbulent as this, starting with an end goal in mind. “It doesn’t have to be risky if we’re smart. I think I have an idea in mind.”

Yeonjun smiled -lovely enough to make anything worth it- and said, “It’s a date, then. Just text me before Friday.”

He found himself returning Yeonjun’s smile and agreeing softly, “Mm. I’ll let you know.” For once, he didn’t want to just dismiss Yeonjun, and so he asked, “Are you planning on staying here for lunch?”

Yeonjun replied with a shake of his head. “Taehyun and Beomgyu are waiting for me. It’ll look weird if I start bailing on them.”

That was true. Still, Soobin secretly wished Yeonjun would stay. But maybe it was better that they remain separated during class hours. It was already suspicious enough, them having conversations like this almost weekly. “Alright. Enjoy your lunch period, then. I most likely won’t see you for the rest of the day. I don’t want you getting in the habit of hanging around here once school ends. Your studies are important, too.”

There. His role as a teacher was completely fulfilled for the day. He told Yeonjun not to neglect his studies in favor of him. Now, he never had to say it again.

“Yes, sir,” he agreed, although looked slightly amused. Soobin had no idea what was so funny. Before he could ask, though, Yeonjun dipped his head and waved. “See you tomorrow, then.”

He was out the door in a matter of seconds, but through the crack, Soobin spotted a figure waiting in the hallway, who greeted Yeonjun as soon as he emerged.

Most likely, it was just a coincidence that Kang Taehyun chose to linger outside the door during their conversation. Yeonjun was his best friend; he didn’t need another reason apart from simply wanting to wait for him. Yet inexplicably, a thin spool of anxiety began unraveling in him.

Soobin had identified Taehyun as someone to keep an eye on during his very first day. He was clever, and observant, and already scoring years ahead of his classmates. The last thing he needed was a person like that prying into his business.

Frankly, Soobin began to suspect in the beginning of term that Taehyun was in love with Yeonjun. Maybe it was a simple observation, or maybe it was the repressed part of him seeing the same internal conflict in Taehyun.

Of course, it was nothing more than a hunch. And he wouldn’t ever know if he was right or wrong unless he asked Taehyun himself, or Taehyun confessed to Yeonjun. Either way, it was unlikely to ever go anywhere.

It just made him nervous, that was all. He couldn’t afford more competition. Even worse, he couldn’t defend himself against any allegations that might come his way. All he could cling to was the technicality that he and Yeonjun hadn’t actually done anything. They talked. That was it.

You kissed, a vicious thought reminded him, and he quickly shoved it down. It was a moment of impulse. And until they were alone, away from the school and prying eyes, he would remain convinced that it had never happened.

Besides, pockets of bliss blossomed under the cover of darkness were like little secrets kept by the world. No one had to know. It was a beautiful thing, locked in only the memories he shared with Yeonjun. He knew Yeonjun wouldn’t tell anyone. He promised.

───────✧❁✧───────

Soobin arrived perfectly on time, he arrived second, and it was a mistake he would never forgive himself for. Just the sight of Yeonjun, standing alone by the park entrance with his phone in his hand, screen lighting up his face against the darkness, made him feel as though he had let him down somehow.

He quickly killed his engine and stepped out of the car, but the parking lot was a good distance away. Yeonjun still had his attention on his phone, and apart from being unforgivably alone, he looked stunning. He was indeed wearing the outfit he had promised, and the blue light from his phone screen illuminated the delicate silver sparkles that decorated around and under his eyes, so subtle that no one would have noticed if there wasn’t any light.

Soobin hurried to close the distance between them, saying, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be late.”

Yeonjun glanced up and smiled, pocketing his phone. “Well, perfect, then, because you’re not. I’m early. There’s a difference.”

“Why are you early?” He came to stand beside him, and couldn’t help but run a hand over Yeonjun’s hair, as if to reassure himself that he was really there. It was the only touching he would allow himself to do for now, and Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind.

With a shrug, he answered, “I was in the area. I didn’t get off campus until six, and then a few of my friends wanted to hang out on this side of town. And then I got impatient, so I just came here.”

“Still, I’m sorry for making you wait.”

Yeonjun didn’t even seem to understand why. “It’s really not a big deal. I’m capable of taking care of myself.”

Of course he was right, but Soobin struggled to see it that way. Once again, their perceptions of one another were at odds. Rationally, he knew Yeonjun wasn’t all that vulnerable. But what if something did happen to him? It was Soobin who had requested they meet so late in order to take advantage of the solace nighttime had to offer, but he thought he would arrive first. When Yeonjun wasn’t under his supervision, or at least someone’s, it made him anxious.

Still, Yeonjun moved on before he could say anything else on the matter. "You look handsome without your glasses."

Not even a lead in, or a moment to breathe, or anything. Sometimes, Soobin wondered if it was simply Yeonjun’s prerogative to ensure he never got too comfortable.

"Handsomeness is only so useful," he managed to find a reply in enough time to make him look at least somewhat composed. "I prefer being able to see."

Yeonjun frowned. "Did you not wear them then because you didn’t want to see me?"

Going places with Yeonjun entailed always being on the top of his wit game. It was both stressful and exciting.

"No," he answered simply. "I just thought it was more important to be handsome."

A satisfied smile graced Yeonjun’s face. "Good answer…"

He heard the question at the end of Yeonjun’s sentence. “You can call me hyung when it’s just the two of us,” he said softly.

Just the two of us. What a delicious, twisted little thing. The words tasted sweet.

Yeonjun’s smile widened, although he sounded a little shy when he agreed, “Okay, hyung.”

It was dark, the sidewalks shrouded in hazy lamp light. They could hear the gentle murmur of the river running to the west. No one else was at the park at this hour.

Sometimes, Soobin wondered if Yeonjun had no sense of fear. He’d taken a strange adult man’s request to meet him at an empty riverside field, far from his regular section of the city, past nightfall. Anything could happen to him. Of course, not that it would. Soobin would never let anything happen to him, and even in thinking it, he felt the need to take Yeonjun’s hand.

“Let’s walk, it’s prettier farther in,” Soobin said, and Yeonjun carefully linked their fingers together.

“You seem to like parks a lot,” Yeonjun reflected as they walked. “I remember that day I ran into you at the cafe, you said you came from the park across the street.”

“I like nature.” The way Soobin said it, he sounded almost defensive, and Yeonjun caught on.

“You don’t sound so sure.”

He considered it for a moment. “I like manageable amounts of nature. I don’t think I’m built to be outside for too long. Hiking is hard.”

Yeonjun laughed, the loudest sound that could be heard for several meters, but it didn’t break the atmosphere. If anything, Yeonjun’s laughter added a layer of beauty that nature could never capture. “Hiking is fun if you go with the right people. And wear the right clothes. Once, Taehyun asked me if I wanted to go for a walk with him, and I said yes because I thought, well it’s just a walk, no big deal. And I showed up to the location he texted me, in combat boots and a leather jacket, thinking we were just going for a walk. It was not a walk. It was five miles up a mountain outside of Seoul. I still haven’t forgiven him to this day.”

Hopefully that would be the only mention of Kang Taehyun this evening.

“I think I would have just turned around and left,” Soobin admitted.

“I considered it, but my pride was on the line.”

“Ah, imagine that. You choosing your pride over comfort, I can’t believe you would do something like that.”

Yeonjun tugged on his hand, half-offended, but still laughing. “Wow hyung, I didn’t know you were capable of sarcasm.”

Unimpressed, Soobin complained, “You think that I’m incredibly unfunny and boring, don’t you?”

“Of course not.” Yeonjun giggled again under his breath. “I don’t go out with boring people.”

It sent a thrill through him, hearing Yeonjun say that. They were going out. Soobin knew this was a date, that it was just the two of them far away from anyone else, and that it was special. No one was even allowed to know apart from them two. A little sacred secret. But hearing him say it, even so nonchalantly as if it were nothing, made him want to make it even more true.

Maybe to even let it happen more than once. Perhaps he had been too rash before, determining that it shouldn’t happen at all. They weren’t hurting anyone. They were just two people, talking and enjoying one another’s company. Just like anyone else.

“No?” Soobin stroked his thumb over the back of Yeonjun’s hand and asked, “What are the other requirements, then?”

Yeonjun thought about it for a moment, a soft humming noise coming from his throat. He was coy, the way some girls had been coy when Soobin took them out, but his hand felt different than theirs. His had more calluses and bonier knuckles. Long fingers that didn’t completely disappear when interlaced with his own.

“Handsomeness,” Yeonjun decided. “Which we already checked off earlier. Height is always a bonus, too, considering I’m taller than everyone I know. A good smile. Added points for the dimples, by the way.”

Soobin laughed, for once not feeling as self-conscious. The same dimples he had been bullied for as a kid, the dimples that had singled him out as sensitive and weak, the dimples his older brother had gotten in fights for him over, Yeonjun made them sound like a gift. “Do you really like them that much?”

Yeonjun glanced up at him. “How could I not? They’re like a big sign saying ‘Kiss here, I’m cute.’”

“You’re cute,” Soobin immediately said, the words just slipping out. He didn’t mean to be so straightforward. He liked when Yeonjun played his flirty little games, and Soobin got away with saying almost nothing, just getting to hear him talk and tease. Replying in such a way let on just how enamored Soobin was with him.

“I know.” Still, Yeonjun hummed to himself, obviously pleased. He made this precious face, a smile lifting his cheeks, and giving his head a little shake. Soobin wondered if he should compliment him more often. He thought he did. Half the thoughts circulating in his mind these days consisted of how beautiful, and lovely, and special Yeonjun was. Perhap he wasn’t as good at voicing them as he thought. Maybe his compliments were delivered in a way where Yeonjun often second-guessed them.

Although, Yeonjun didn’t seem like he second-guessed anything. He made a decision, and stuck with it. He was direct, confident, and unwavering. It was a bit intimidating, considering that if Yeonjun ever decided he didn’t want him anymore, nothing Soobin could say would change his mind.

But that was a thought for later.

Right now, he had Yeonjun’s hand in his own, and they talked quietly to themselves as they strolled through the park, not wanting to disrupt the serene tranquility of the night. Between the babbling of the river and the wind whistling through tall grasses and trees, there was a quiet sense of isolation to it all. The longer they walked, the less Soobin thought to check over his shoulder, or worry about whether they were being watched. No one could see them. Not cleanly, anyway, and for some reason, he had faith that the universe wouldn’t let it happen. This time was theirs.

They reached the end of the path, where it came to a stop by the water’s edge, and when Soobin looked up, he could finally see the moon peeking through dense cloud cover. Then, he looked at Yeonjun, who had gone to watch the water, and smiled.

Under the pale wash of the autumn moon, Yeonjun looked like a graceful fairy with his pastel pink sweater and sparkly eye makeup. Enthralled with the breeze, he simply stood and took in the cool air against his skin, fingertips reaching out to touch some sort of magic only he could see.

He wished he’d brought his camera. Keeping photos on his phone was out of the question, but a film camera, something no one else would ever see, wasn’t impossible. It would be a private thing, just for him. Perhaps next time, if he asked Yeonjun first.

"Is autumn your favorite season?" Soobin asked, coming to stand beside him.

"I like all the seasons," Yeonjun replied, glancing up at him with a smile. "But tonight really feels like summer has gone."

Soobin had the fleeting thought that Yeonjun was wise beyond his years. Not in the way where he was trying to make excuses for what they were doing, but a genuine marveling at the way his mind worked. Perhaps Yeonjun wasn’t necessarily the most academically-inclined person in the world, but he had a refined sense for the more practical aspects of life. It made them different, but complimentary.

"I think it suits you, though," Yeonjun continued, and turned to face Soobin. "You and autumn go together nicely," he hummed as he readjusted Soobin’s scarf for him, tightening it just enough before bracing his hands against Soobin’s chest. An excuse to touch. An incredibly well-executed one.

"Oh, really?" Soobin made no move to put any space between them. He’d been dying to touch Yeonjun all evening, more than just the hand he gave him, but refrained for fear of scaring him off. "Why do you think so?"

"Easy. You’re perfectly built for fall fashion. Tailored trench coats, cashmere scarves, button-up shirts, Chelsea boots, they all suit you."

Always an answer on the tip of his tongue. Nothing Soobin asked ever seemed to trip him up. It was a small, elegant thing, and he liked it.

"A low heel is best though," Yeonjun went on, slowly dragging his palms down the lapels of Soobin’s coat. He’d put thought into this. "Otherwise you’d tower over me." He glanced up, soft moonlight reflected in his inky pupils. "Even more than you already do."

"You make it sound like it bothers you."

"On the contrary," Yeonjun’s gaze fixed on his lips, never straying, "I think I like it more than I should." He grasped Soobin’s coat now, whispering, "I want to do what we did in the car."

His secretiveness made it sound dirtier than it was, and Soobin’s voice came out amused. "Kissing?"

Yeonjun nodded, perhaps a bit embarrassed now that he'd voiced his request out loud. He wasn’t this shy when teasing Soobin at school. It must be the reality of it that had him on his toes with his eyes big and nervous.

"You’re allowed to kiss me," Soobin murmured, gently cupping the side of Yeonjun’s face so he would look up.

Yeonjun bit his lip, conflicted, then said, "I want you to kiss me."

“You always have a preference, don’t you?” Soobin teased, but leaned in, placing a small kiss on his forehead.

Thumping his fists once against Soobin’s chest, Yeonjun complained, “That’s not what I meant. Kiss me properly.”

Rarely did he get an opportunity to play with Yeonjun the same way he played with him. It was fun to be immature for a moment. “What’s proper, hm?” He kissed Yeonjun’s cheek. “This?” Then his nose. “Here?”

Unable to endure any more teasing, Yeonjun simply cupped Soobin’s cheeks and rose just a little more on his toes, kissing Soobin himself. It was chaste, and sweet, the sort of easy kiss Soobin had imagined their first one being. He lightly placed his hands on Yeonjun’s waist, and let him lead the exchange, curious as to what satisfied him.

What did Yeonjun fantasize about when he looked at him?

From the gentle press of his lips, and shy dip of his tongue, it was a much more innocent and romantic fantasy than Soobin’s. Still, it was precious in it’s own way, and Soobin kissed him back, careful to match his pace and preserve the loveliness of it.

Then again, he may have underestimated Yeonjun. It only took a few moments for his teeth to dig gently into Soobin’s bottom lip, and he parted them, allowing Yeonjun to slip his tongue into his mouth, and suddenly, the cold didn’t feel so biting.

He was warm. Yeonjun felt warm beneath his hands, against his tongue, and he still tasted like cherries. A favorite lip balm, maybe, sweet and addicting.

They spent a while like that, kissing by the river, until he realized Yeonjun was shaking. He broke the kiss, and asked, “Are you alright?”

Yeonjun looked flushed, even his nose was pink, and Soobin it didn’t surprise him to hear, “It’s a little cold.”

He carded a hand through Yeonjun’s hair, away from his forehead. “You should have said something, I forgot you didn’t wear a coat.”

“Didn’t want to,” he mumbled, and even Soobin’s heart felt warm. “I knew you would stop kissing me if I did.”

Here," Soobin said gently, grasping his wrist. "Maybe we should take this somewhere else."

Yeonjun bit his lip and nodded, allowing Soobin to guide him back to his car. The walk felt shorter this time. He offered to give Yeonjun his coat again, but he shook his head, and made Soobin wrap an arm around his shoulders instead. Secretly, he preferred this too.

He fit there nicely, just tall enough to make it easy and natural.

"Backseat," he whispered when Soobin started opening the passenger door.

He chuckled, but complied. "Okay, backseat. How do you-"

Before he could even ask, Yeonjun was pushing him in, letting Soobin sprawl across the seat, and he crawled on top of his lap, remembering to shut the door behind him.

His heart racing, he had to ask. "Are you sure? We can go slow if you’d like."

And Yeonjun, young, inexperienced Yeonjun had the nerve to laugh. "Ah, yes, because that’s what I’ve had in mind this entire time." He sat on his knees between Soobin’s legs, and put on his best fake pout. "I want to kiss you like a schoolgirl forever, hyung, it’s been my dream since the summer." When Soobin laughed, Yeonjun dropped the character and murmured in a deep silky voice, a voice decidedly masculine but alluring just the same, "Is that what you wanted to hear? Can we move on now?"

"Mm, I’d love to," Soobin agreed, trailing a hand up Yeonjun’s side before pulling him closer. Their lips met again, but this time in an embrace far less innocent. It felt more fitting to Soobin, the sort of hot, messy kiss he would fantasize about in the deepest hours of the night. His tongue in Yeonjun’s mouth and hands on his hips, just barely slipping under his sweater. Yeonjun braced himself against the seat with one hand, the other lazily draped over Soobin’s shoulder. Pretty, elegant, effortless. It made Soobin want to touch him all over, feel his soft skin under his finger tips, the way he flushed pink as he fought for air and returned his touch.

This was the first time Soobin could feel how desperately Yeonjun wanted him. The more his sweater rode up, Soobin’s hands moving with it, the less composed he became. He knotted a hand in Soobin’s coat at first, gripping him tight, then started pushing it off completely.

"Fuck, take it off," Yeonjun panted against his mouth when Soobin’s coat got stuck at the crook of his arm. “I never-“

Soobin broke their kiss, both to comply and to let them catch their breath. “You never what?” He slipped his arms out of the sleeves, and tossed his coat over the seat in front of him.

Yeonjun sat on his knees, straddling Soobin but not sitting fully on his lap. His eyes roamed over Soobin’s body, and for some reason, he felt oddly self-conscious under his intense gaze. Like a big cat had sat on his lap and now was staring him down, deciding whether or not to devour him. No one in his life had ever looked at him like that before. “I never get to see you. You’re always wearing at least three layers. It’s annoying.”

A strange feeling washed over him, and he wasn’t quite sure what to call it. Was he flattered? Or shy? His skin already felt hot, and the more Yeonjun talked, the more intense the feeling grew. “It’s dress code,” he replied simply, although his voice was rough and deep.

Yeonjun dropped his gaze, letting a hand trail down Soobin’s chest as he teased, “The extra cardigan is not. That’s just you being prudish, and the perfect picture of a stereotypical lit teacher.”

“Prudish?” His astonishment at the diagnosis escaped in his tone. “Is that really what you think?”

“Mhm.” Yeonjun licked over his lips, and Soobin couldn’t help but look at how red and glossy they were. They had been kissing for so long, his lips looked swollen, eyes dark, and Soobin began to worry. What if he didn’t have it in him to go at Yeonjun’s pace? Yet somehow, Yeonjun seemed to have the same thing in mind as him. “Otherwise you wouldn’t cover up so much. It’s pretty selfish, actually.”

He let out a small snort of amusement, shoving down his anxiety. “While you’re incredibly wrong about the first assumption, at least you’ve got one thing right. I am quite selfish. When it comes to certain things.”

“Yeah?” Yeonjun loosely looped his arms around him, head tilted. The faint street lights glimmered in his eyes, making it look as though they were a sea filled with stars. “Like what?”

“Like the things I want,” Soobin murmured, looking at the answer right in front of him. “I want them desperately. It consumes me, if I want it badly enough.”

“Is that how you feel about me?” Yeonjun whispered.

Soobin shut his eyes, touching their foreheads together, and nodded. “Since I first saw you.”

What a dangerously romantic thing to say, and yet he couldn’t lie. He truly had desired Yeonjun more than anything from the first time he caught just a glimpse of him. Maybe it wasn’t normal. And if Yeonjun were older and smarter, perhaps it would raise a red flag.

But he was naive. In this sense, they both were.

Yeonjun kissed the words right out of his mouth, a smile on his lips, and they picked up where they had left off, the moment set down and retrieved like a wine glass: beautiful, delicate, and full of vice. He hadn’t felt this drunk in a long time.

It was a softer, sweeter fantasy, but delicious the way it all came true. Soobin never knew he could be so aroused simply by kissing someone, and feel satisfied all the same.

Throughout his life, kissing was obligatory. The action that had to come before sex because it was polite. Because it was the right order of things, and because it always seemed to make the woman he was with fall in love.

So many times, women seemed to prefer kissing over the actual sex, and Soobin never understood. Granted, neither of them were immensely satisfying to him, but with sex, it was easier to pretend. There was an end to it, a finish line, and if he kept his focus on the idea that being with a woman was the right thing to do, he could typically see it to completion.

Kissing relied entirely on passion. A swapping of human spirit, regardless of whether love was involved or not.

And now, fueled by passion, and Yeonjun’s electric energy, and the beating of his own heart, he understood. Kissing could be a beautiful thing. A pocket in time where only the two of them mattered, and they breathed in sync, desperate as it was.

He wondered if it affected Yeonjun the same way. If it was normal to feel so consumed by something so common. Nothing about this felt common to him, all the sensations and heat entirely brand new, but maybe Yeonjun’s experience was different.

In the back of his mind, Soobin knew that if he simply lifted his knee, he’d be able to tell. Yeonjun straddled one of his legs, wearing those loose black pants, and if Soobin just pressed against him, he’d know. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even worse, his aversion wasn’t for Yeonjun’s sake. He doubted Yeonjun would care, even if they hadn’t talked about it beforehand. It was for himself. He was afraid of breaking this safe little bubble, and of reminding himself that Yeonjun was a boy.

Sometimes it was easy to justify. The less Soobin thought about it, the more comfortable he felt, as long as he kept himself convinced. It didn’t really count. Yeonjun was pretty. He wore pretty clothes and liked to play with makeup. He painted his nails and pierced his ears. His voice was saccharine like honey, and promised pretty things. It was only natural that men would be enamored with him. Soobin just happened to be one of them. That didn’t make Soobin any different, or strange, or unconventional somehow.

Yeonjun was the one who was different. He chose to be different. It wasn’t Soobin’s fault.

And maybe it wasn’t fair. But it allowed him to cope with everything.

When the kissing grew languid, and the gaps between them longer, Soobin knew it was time to pull away. But when he leaned back against the car door to catch his breath, he didn’t get a chance. Yeonjun, with his hazy eyes and swollen lips, ducked his head, and placed another tender, wet kiss against Soobin’s throat.

His breath hitched, a hand automatically came up to tangle in Yeonjun’s hair, and even though he knew he should end it here, he shut his eyes. It felt too good to stop. No one had kissed him like that in a long time, and his body reacted faster than his head. The hand that had been lightly resting on Yeonjun’s waist gripped him hard. He couldn’t help it. He pulled him closer, against his own body, and ignored everything that wasn’t the mouth on his neck. Yeonjun squirmed when Soobin brushed his thumb along his stomach, and his knee pressed against his crotch.

“Fuck,” Soobin panted, the word raw and heavy in the darkness, and Yeonjun lifted his head.

His eyes were lidded and sultry, but his words were careful. “Should I stop?”

And it was so funny. Yeonjun was asking him for consent, and Soobin owed it to him to regain his composure. Breathing heavily, he nodded.

“Okay.” Yeonjun sat back on his knees, letting Soobin’s hand slip out of his sweater. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do too much.”

It was as if the world was making fun of him, forcing Yeonjun to taunt him with all the words he should be saying instead. Still, he readjusted himself and sat up properly. “You don’t have to apologize,” he said once he caught his breath. “I didn’t tell you to stop because I wanted you too.”

Yeonjun’s gaze clouded with confusion. “If you didn’t want me to, then why…?”

“I’d like to be somewhere nicer than my car.” You deserve somewhere nicer.

Yeonjun, sweet and eager as he was, cocked his head, and said, “Then take me somewhere else.”

Soobin laughed, light and soft, and shook his head. “Not tonight.” Then, more seriously, he admitted, “It’s as much for your sake as mine. I’m not quite used to this.”

Being with a man is what he meant, and Yeonjun seemed to understand. It was one of those instances where Soobin knew he didn’t deserve him, as he continued to push and pull like this, and Yeonjun didn’t hold anything against him. “I’m used to this part,” he said softly, almost like he was trying to make Soobin feel comfortable. “But I’ve never actually done it before. Not with another person, anyway.”

“You’re a virgin?” Soobin asked for confirmation, and he felt guilty when the confession surprised him. Once again, he had managed to misjudge Yeonjun. Not that it would matter either way. In fact, he would have preferred if he wasn’t. He didn’t want to be the one to be responsible for taking Yeonjun’s virginity. That would make him his first. And it wasn’t something he would ever forget.

“Yeah. I mean, guys have offered before but…” Yeonjun dropped his gaze, seemingly shy. “I kind of wanted to wait.”

He had to ask. “Wait for what?”

Yeonjun shrugged. “It’s kind of dumb.”

Soobin reached up and cupped his cheek, slowly tracing along his cheekbone with his thumb. “I won’t think it’s dumb.”

After a moment, Yeonjun confessed quietly, “I kind of wanted to wait for someone special. Someone, well this is going to sound even more dumb, but someone like you…”

It should be guilt tearing through him, but it was washed out, replaced by something shining that came from within his ego. Pride. Pretty, talented, beloved Yeonjun thought of him as special. How ironic.

“I don’t think that’s dumb at all,” he said gently. It wasn’t. It was terrifying to him, but it wasn’t dumb. What a thing to want to entrust Soobin with. Or burden him with, if he looked at it from another angle. Still, it didn’t dissuade him as much as it should. “Which is why you should let me make it special. If it’s something you really want. You don’t even have to make up your mind now. There’s plenty of time.”

It was a lie, but the kind Yeonjun needed to be told. They didn’t have plenty of time. Every moment they spent together was just another on a clock ticking down to when they were inevitably found out. Their time was limited, and precious, and Soobin would let Yeonjun spend it however he liked.

“That’s why I want it to be you,” Yeonjun said, more confidently this time. “Stuff like that. You make me feel safe.”

His ego couldn’t take much more inflation, and the thought of Yeonjun feeling safe with him was enough to satisfy him for days. He knew Yeonjun was capable. He didn’t really need someone to take care of him, but Soobin desperately wanted to, and it seemed like he was the closest Yeonjun had ever let another person get. His walls were up -Soobin had no idea why- but it was flattering, to be the person he chose to let in.

“I like that,” Soobin confessed, short and simple, and Yeonjun looked like he understood.

“I thought you might.”

They simply met eyes for a moment, and then Soobin leaned in, placing one more soft kiss on his lips. “Let me drive you home.”

“Yeah, right.” Yeonjun laughed. “As if that would fly with anyone. I’ll get a thousand questions. Pass. Thank you, though, for offering.” When Soobin frowned, he added with a playful smile, “You can drive me back to the subway station, though. If you really want to.”

“I really want to,” Soobin confirmed, feeling slightly better about that arrangement, at least. So, he and Yeonjun extricated themselves from each other, both having to get out of the car just to get back in the front seat. Neither of them would fit over the console, and they laughed about it for a minute.

The station wasn’t far. But halfway through the drive, Yeonjun mumbled, “We should…um…do something like this again. Some time. I mean, I had fun, and I know we can’t do it all the time, but just occasionally, maybe.”

Soobin had been so opposed to it at first. Keeping this up wasn’t realistic, but the other option felt too filthy and disingenuous to suggest. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted that anymore. He’d had fun tonight, too, and he wanted to do it more. Anything that let him spend time with Yeonjun, he began to realize, was worth the risk.

He couldn’t just demand sex from Yeonjun, especially when Soobin already declined tonight. It didn’t feel right.

“We don’t have to,” Yeonjun amended while Soobin was thinking. “It was already nice enough of you to take me somewhere tonight.” He forced nonchalance, and it jolted Soobin back to the present.

“No, I’d like to do it again.” The words spilled out of him, so very clearly in a rush to correct his mistake and reassure him. “I’m sorry, I started thinking about where else we could go.”

Soobin glanced at the passenger side mirror, and noticed Yeonjun smiling. “Don’t apologize. That’s sweet of you.”

He wasn’t sure if that made him very sweet, but it was nice of Yeonjun to say. “Is there somewhere in particular you’d like to see?”

Yeonjun answered immediately. “Your place.”

“Yeonjun!” he reprimanded, although he couldn’t even say why. Just the fact that he had been thinking it all along was embarrassing.

“Not for sex!” he hastily clarified. “I mean, unless you want to. Although, if you’ve never done it with a guy before then we have stuff to talk about beforehand.” He shook his head. “Anyways, that’s not important right now. I just kind of want to see where you live, and it would be nice if we could hang out somewhere without always worrying about…you know…”

Oh, he certainly knew. He just didn’t expect Yeonjun to bring it up.

“It’s a possibility,” he tentatively agreed. Having full reassurance that they were alone would be comforting. “And I have, just so you know.”

Already ten steps ahead in the conversation, Yeonjun glanced at him. “What?”

Soobin struggled to maintain a straight face as he admitted, “Had sex with a man. But I don’t think I did it well. We were both very drunk, and this was several years ago.”

“That’s okay,” Yeonjun replied, not seeming put off in the slightest. “It’s just different. I’m used to doing it with my fingers, and I’ve used a toy before. I’ve learned a lot from my other queer friends, too. I think we can figure it out. I mean at the end of the day, it’s still the same equation. Dick in hole, you know?”

That assessment made him laugh harder than maybe he should while driving, out of shock or genuine amusement he couldn’t say, and the mood in the car seemed to lift.

It was astonishing to him how Yeonjun could discuss something that Soobin grew up thinking was incredibly taboo so comfortably. The finer points of gay sex were simply a normalized part of his world.

My other queer friends, he had said. So he knew a whole group of people like him? And they talked about it all, and helped each other?

These were questions that a part of him wanted to voice out loud, but he felt embarrassed, seeking knowledge from someone so much younger than himself.

“What are your plans for the rest of the evening?” he asked as they got closer to their destination.

Sighing, Yeonjun said, “Studying. A ridiculous amount of it.”

Soobin knew he had a lot of pressure on his shoulders at the moment, and sympathized. “You’re going to do excellently on your exams. And think of how relieved you’ll feel when it’s all over.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Yeonjun complained. “You graduated like ten years ago, went to college to study books of all things, and then for some reason decided to go back to school as your job.”

At least Yeonjun didn’t shy away from mentioning their gap in age, but it felt strange to hear it acknowledged out loud. Like it wasn’t their filthy secret.

“I didn’t just study books,” he defended himself, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes, a smile on his face.

“Whatever, you know what I mean.”

“Let me buy you a coffee, then, so maybe you’ll survive.”

Yeonjun pursed his lips in the same cute way that made Soobin always want to kiss him, and agreed. “Okay. You can do that.”

Pleased, he adjusted their route, setting his phone to navigate them to the nearest open coffee shop instead. They were a bit hard to come by this late at night, but the busiest chains had long hours, and one popped up right away. It was only two minutes from the station, just the smallest detour.

Soobin glanced at him. “Do you know what you want to do after high school?”

Yeonjun took a moment to answer, running a hand through his hair. After spending some time with him, Soobin was beginning to realize that it was a nervous habit of his. “I mean, yeah. Sort of. There’s the thing I want to do, and then there’s the thing I’m supposed to do.”

“What’s the thing you’re supposed to do?”

He expected the answer that he was given. “Apply to high-level universities. Major in business management and finance. Graduate and work at my family’s company.”

It was so easy to forget that Yeonjun was rich. Soobin never thought about it. His wealth had no effect on Soobin’s attraction to him, and only managed to be relevant because it ensured they got to know each other in the first place. If Yeonjun wasn’t wealthy, he wouldn’t be enrolled in the same academy that Soobin had been offered a position at, and there would have been no possible way for Soobin to see him after that one strange encounter at the amusement park.

His life would be so much simpler. Both of theirs.

But it was a twist of fate, a silly material thing making all the difference, and more than anything, he was grateful. To Yeonjun’s parents, or grandparents, or whoever made him rich, and essentially landed him in Soobin’s life. And he knew they wouldn’t feel the same about him. They would hate him for the choices he had made, and the way he felt about their son. If their relationship was discovered, they would most likely take him to court over everything he had.

What an odd thing, to want to take that sort of risk just for the sake of being with someone else. There was a word for it. A little, deadly word, and he knew it was too early to even wonder if it applied. At the start of every relationship existed this small innocent stage of delusion, a mania that blinded those afflicted to everything besides the person in front of them, and he knew he was in it now. That awareness came with age, but there was a certain bliss to it. A freedom that came in surrender. So what if he sounded deluded? It was a beautiful, brief thing, and one he never expected to stick around.

The only thing to do was enjoy it. And be conscious of how it manipulated his perception.

“I see,” he regained his train of thought. “And what is it that you’d like to do?”

Yeonjun sighed. “I’ll tell you some other time.”

Soobin sensed he had reached another wall. “You don’t have to tell me anything that you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just…I’m not even sure if it’s what I want. I just want to pass my exams and see what happens. See if I even get into a decent school. I can figure it out after.”

He nodded. “I understand. You don’t have to know everything now.”

Yeonjun swept his hair back again and nodded. He didn’t want to talk about it anymore, and he seemed grateful that he wasn’t pushing him to answer.

“You can stay in the car,” Soobin said softly when he parked at the coffee shop, whose lights were thankfully still on.

Yeonjun gave him a small smile; he understood that there were certain places they couldn’t be seen together. “Okay, I’ll wait here, then.”

Call it premonition, or simple common sense, but it was very fortunate that Soobin went inside alone. The shop looked completely deserted this late at night, it’s cherry tables and chairs empty and perfectly in place. The staff must be getting ready to close down. Only two people seemed to be in the building. Soobin could see their backs, chatting away behind the staff-only door.

He waited for a few moments at the counter, and eventually one of them emerged. A tall teenage boy with short, round hair and mischievous eyes. It barely took him a second to recognize Soobin.

“Oh, it’s you,” Choi Beomgyu said, and he looked confused. Soobin couldn’t blame him- he felt similarly thrown for a loop, like his world tilted off-center. “I mean, um, hi. Welcome in.” He adjusted his black uniform apron, and seemed to decide that he would be treating Soobin like a stranger. “What can I get for you?”

There was no way to make this encounter any less awkward, so Soobin went along with the course he set, playing his role as any other customer. But he quickly realized he had gotten himself into a bad situation; there was absolutely no way that Beomgyu didn’t know Yeonjun’s coffee order.

Thinking fast, he decided that he just couldn’t order anything for himself, then. If he only ordered Yeonjun’s, then it just looked like they coincidentally happened to like the same thing.

“Uh, take your time…” Beomgyu said, and he glanced down at the ordering screen, pretending like Soobin wasn’t there.

“I’ll just do an iced Americano,” he said, trying to make it sound like it was for him as much as possible. And then, because he couldn’t stand the awkwardness, he gave up the pretense of strangers. “I didn’t know you worked here.”

A weird thing to say. Why would he know anything about Choi Beomgyu at all?

Still, the student’s personality worked in his favor, being a naturally friendly person. He didn’t see it as all that out of place.

Regaining a bit of composure, Beomgyu gestured to the east. “I live on this side of town.” He sounded almost embarrassed when saying it. “Was that a sixteen ounce?”

“Better make it twenty,” Soobin decided. “That’s quite the commute.”

Beomgyu shrugged, and brushed his hair out of his face to see the screen better. “It’s not that bad. Can I get you anything else?”

However, with that comment, their situation began to click into place. He and Yeonjun had talked about it once before, the fact that Beomgyu attended the academy on a scholarship. He wasn’t even from Seoul. More than likely, he moved here to study and had to work to afford a place to live.

“No, that’s everything.” He lifted his card to indicate what he’d been paying with.

They didn’t try to converse while Beomgyu made his drink- the peak of his attempt at small talk had already passed, and honestly, Soobin had no idea what he would say anyway. The only things they had in common were class and Yeonjun, neither of which he felt inclined to speak on.

“Here you are,” Beomgyu said, pressing a lid on the coffee cup. “Um, have a nice night.”

Soobin took it, and grabbed a straw. “Thanks. You as well.”

He was out the door and back in the car in a matter of minutes, but it felt like a long time had passed. Yeonjun had his phone out, staring blankly at the screen, but clicked it shut when Soobin opened the door. “How did that go?” he asked, and for some reason, there was a very unconvincing innocent smile on his face.

“Why didn’t you tell me that Choi Beomgyu works there?”

Yeonjun shrugged, looking pleased with himself. “You didn’t ask. Besides, I wasn’t sure if he was working tonight. When we were hanging out earlier he said he might not pick up the shift. I wasn’t going to tell you if it wasn’t relevant.”

Soobin glared at him. “It was very relevant. What if he recognized your order?”

Laughing to himself, Yeonjun said, “Hyung, there are millions of people in the world who like the same drink that I do. It’s like a universal thing. You’re just paranoid.”

With a sigh, he passed Yeonjun the cup, now coated with condensation. “I told you that you were going to get me in trouble.”

Yeonjun rested his elbow on the car door, head propped up on his fist, and the look he gave Soobin made him wish they had more time. “Mm, but it’s fun, though. You like it.”

“You have no idea what I like,” Soobin countered, fixing his gaze on the rearview camera as he pulled out of the parking lot.

“You like me.”

“Hm.”

As if a thought just occurred to him, Yeonjun asked, “What do you like about me, anyway?”

“We don’t have enough time for me to give you a complete answer right now.”

Yeonjun’s eyebrows shot up in surprise and intrigue, but he quickly covered the flash of emotion by taking a loud sip of his coffee. “Huh.”

Was it a lie? Soobin couldn’t quite say. A strange, blurry space existed in the place where all the things he told Yeonjun resided. Certainly, some of his words were lies. But a small part, in the very back corner, might simply contain unrecognized truths. Did he like Yeonjun?

What a loaded question.

It sounded juvenile, but at the same time, what else could he label it as? He was sexually attracted to him, without a doubt. He wanted to sleep with him. That was the idea all along. Anything more would indeed get him into trouble- more than he could handle. A one and done thing was easy. The less evidence, the better. The less Yeonjun had to hold against him.

It was really all he ever promised.

But Yeonjun had a way with him, making him agree to more when he was in a good mood. That encounter with his classmate had thrown Soobin off, bringing him back to reality. He couldn’t keep making exceptions.

So maybe he should push for it, to bring them to the end more quickly. Yeonjun seemed willing.

Yet it was a precious thing Yeonjun was offering him, and he knew it would cement his place as a sinner to take it. The thought always lingered at the back of his mind, knowing Yeonjun was just two years shy of being half his own age. And, even more uncomfortable to contemplate, if Soobin’s life had gone the way everyone around him wanted it to, he would most likely be a father by now.

Yeonjun wasn’t quite that young. Perhaps that granted him some leniency.

An even smaller, more twisted part of him enjoyed the fact that Yeonjun was so young. If he was older, he wouldn’t say the things he did.

You make me feel safe, Yeonjun confessed, and Soobin preened under the compliment. It wasn’t the kind of thing someone always heard from a person their own age. It was the way Yeonjun looked at him, too, as if he knew everything in the world, and always had the right answer. That was why it was so hard for Soobin to admit when he was wrong, or even worse, when he didn’t know something at all. If he didn’t know, if he didn’t have the right answers, Yeonjun wouldn’t look at him like that ever again.

They were selfish reasons, but they were his, and he already admitted to it anyway. Yeonjun wasn’t smart enough to hold it against him, not yet at least. Maybe in a few years, he would be. But Soobin would be long gone from his life by then.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun prompted him. “You can just pull up alongside the sidewalk. I’ll hop out.”

Soobin nodded, and switched lanes, getting as close to the subway entrance as he could. When he parked, Yeonjun leaned in and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Thanks for tonight,” he said when he moved back. His eyes were shining under the city lights. “I had fun.”

They didn’t do much apart from talk and make out, but it was sweet of him to say so.

“I did, too,” he replied, giving Yeonjun a small smile. “Do you really want to meet at my apartment next time?”

“If it doesn’t make you uncomfortable.”

“Let’s do it after your exams, then,” he decided. “I don’t want to put too much on your plate at once.”

Besides, the longer the gap between meetings, the less suspicious it looked. The students were meant to sit their college entrance exams in three weeks. It felt like the appropriate amount of time.

Yeonjun nodded. “Okay, that makes sense. Um, I guess I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

“See you then,” Soobin said softly, and watched while Yeonjun retrieved his things and exited his car, giving him one last wave before he shut the door. He waited until he saw him disappear down the subway steps to pull away, back into traffic.

They didn’t have all the time in the world, but for a moment, it felt like it all came to a stop just for them.

───────✧❁✧───────

A day came, in the center of another gray waiting period, that rained dark and oppressive. Heavy clouds had blanketed the sky since morning, and all of his classes seemed tired, frustrated, and out of sorts. November had arrived colder and crueler than usual.

It was towards the end of third period, Soobin in his own room, that he noticed Yeonjun had his phone out under his desk. Soobin had just finished discussing their latest set of practice exams, and left them to write another mock essay. From his spot at his desk, he could see Yeonjun’s phone in his hand. Soobin considered calling him out on it, and maybe securing another good reason to put him in lunch detention so they could spend some time together, but as soon as he saw the expression on Yeonjun’s face, he changed his mind.

It looked like he was going to cry. His hand was shaking and he was biting down furiously on his lip, eyes watery and red.

Soobin felt frozen in place, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t his place to pry into Yeonjun’s personal affairs. But at the same time, he couldn’t just sit there and do nothing. And this wasn’t even the first time it had happened; more than once, Soobin had spotted him with his phone out and a deeply frustrated look on his face.

Slowly, so as not to draw the other students' attention, Soobin rose from his seat and quietly walked down the far aisle until he got to the back of the room. He spent a moment adjusting the blinds, letting in the gloomy gray light from outside, then walked over to Yeonjun’s desk.

However, before he even got there, Yeonjun quickly stood and rushed from the room, so fast his chair fell backwards and the door slammed shut behind him.

Soobin, along with the entire class, stared at the door in shock.

“That’s alright,” Soobin said, voice soothing. The students all looked at him. Kang Taehyun and Choi Beomgyu, who sat closest, were already righting Yeonjun’s toppled chair and picking up his scattered pens. “Return to your reading. Choi Beomgyu-ssi, please keep an eye on the class. I should be back in just a minute.”

He followed Yeonjun out the door, being sure to shut it gently before looking both ways down the hall. The student was nowhere to be seen. But down about three classrooms from his own, he saw Kim Yunho checking out his own door. He must have heard the commotion. When the other teacher noticed Soobin, he cocked his head. “Was that one of your students?”

He nodded. “Did you see which way he went?”

“Towards the back entrance, I think. Is everything okay?”

Soobin sighed- Yeonjun was probably long gone by now. He had no hope of catching him if he wanted to disappear. “I think he’s fine, just upset by something he read on his phone.”

“You should probably call his parents if he doesn’t come back,” Yunho advised. “They’ll want to know that he’s left class.”

“I’ll call them at lunch,” Soobin said in agreement. He didn’t have to further embarrass Yeonjun by making the call while everyone else was still in the room. At the last school he taught at, students disappeared during class hours all the time, but he’d come to learn that it wasn’t so common here on a private campus. Attendance was nearly always perfect, and students typically informed him of any upcoming absences weeks prior to the scheduled date. It was simply a difference in environment and expectations.

“Mhm, I’ll see you in the staff meeting on Thursday, Soobin-ssi,” Yunho said before retreating back into his own classroom.

He returned to his class, and waited out the rest of the period. As soon as the room was empty, he located Yeonjun’s file and noted the two numbers listed as emergency contacts. Mother and grandmother. That was odd. Where was his father’s number?

Slightly intrigued by the mystery, he stored the thought away for later and dialed his mother’s phone. After three rings, it went to voicemail, and he left a short message explaining that he was Yeonjun’s homeroom teacher and that Yeonjun had left very suddenly during the third period.

He considered calling his grandmother, too, but decided to wait. Yeonjun’s mother must be a busy woman, considering the business her family ran. Maybe she would check her phone before the day ended.

Throughout the rest of the day, Yeonjun didn’t come back. Soobin kept checking, peering into his classroom on his way too and from other rooms, but the student was nowhere to be found. However, his things were still sitting in the back of the room, meaning his mother hadn’t come.

It was right after the very last period, when everyone had just left, that a knock came at his classroom door. “Come in,” Soobin called out, engrossed in the essay he was reading. However, he looked up upon seeing who had entered.

The woman was beautiful. Sophisticated and elegant, she looked as though she had never aged past thirty, dressed in trendy business fashion and her dark hair cut short and stylish. Burgundy nails held her phone and a clutch purse. Matching heels elevated her to a cool 175 cm. And her cat-like facial features were strikingly familiar.

“I’m Kim Misun, you called about my son.” Her introduction was short and to the point, but her voice was far more warm and friendly than Soobin had anticipated.

“Of course, you must be Yeonjun’s mother,” he replied with a smile and a polite bow, both of which she returned. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

She gave a curt nod. “You as well. You know, it’s funny, I didn’t even know he’d gotten a new homeroom teacher. I was expecting to see Han Doyoung.”

Had Yeonjun really never mentioned him? Or was his mother just not listening? Interestingly enough, either option seemed plausible.

“Ah. Unfortunately, he retired right before term started. I’m a good friend of his, Choi Soobin.”

Misun smiled, lips full and red. Like Yeonjun’s. She walked slowly towards his desk, her presence large and magnetic. “Well, Soobin-ssi, tell me what my son has gotten up to this time.”

“Nothing bad,” he assured her, although he didn’t even know why it was a concern in the first place. “But he left during third period. I happened to be teaching at the time, and I noticed he had his phone out. After reading what I assume was a text message, he just got up and rushed out of the room. He seemed somewhat emotional.”

“Ah.” She didn’t look concerned at all. In fact, she didn’t even seem surprised. “Well, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed this, but he gets overwhelmed easily. If something happens, boom, he’s immediately feeling all the emotions a regular person feels over the course of a week.” Soobin got the distinct sense that she liked talking about Yeonjun. “He’s sensitive. Did he seem angry?”

He thought back to the look on Yeonjun’s face, the tears in his eyes and his clenched fists. “Maybe a bit. He looked more frustrated than anything.”

She nodded. “I’m sure it’s because of his father, that man.” With a sigh, she walked towards the back of the room and retrieved Yeonjun’s books, zipping them back into his bag. Clearly, she had done this more than once.

Seeing an opening for answers, Soobin let on, “I noticed his contact information wasn’t listed alongside yours.”

A snort escaped Misun. “And for good reason, too.” Her heels clicked on the tile floor as she walked back, Yeonjun’s bag now slung over her shoulder as if it weighed nothing. “There’s no point in calling him, I guarantee he’d be too out of sorts to answer.” When Soobin looked confused, she elaborated, “I divorced him when Yeonjun was sixteen, two years ago. He’s been a mess for a long time, but that really seemed to do him in, with the company belonging to my family and everything, and he takes it out on Yeonjunnie.” Very quickly, Soobin realized that she didn’t just like to talk about her son, she just liked to talk. Anxiety pricked at him -none of this was really any of his business- but she seemed keen on sharing. Maybe she didn’t get many opportunities to openly discuss her family affairs. Parents tended to feel as though they could share anything with him if it somehow pertained to their kids, his students. “He probably texted asking him for money.”

Trying to tread cautiously, and learn more at the same time, he inquired, “Does that happen often?”

He was only asking so he could be prepared.

“More often than you’d think. More often than is really decent for any man, honestly, it’s as if he has no shame.” Misun became conscious of the fact that she might have gotten a little worked up, and her expression quickly sobered. Another habit she shared with her son. “My bad. I’m just trying to make sure you understand. Yeonjun’s last teacher knew all of this already, which was why I was so surprised when I saw a call from the school. Doyoung-ssi used to just handle it.”

“Handle it?”

She shrugged. “Like I said, he gets emotional over little things. But it’s fast. He’s usually fine by the next day.”

Was it really a little thing, having his father constantly trying to manipulate him?

As though he couldn’t stop prying, Soobin found himself asking, “Why does his father do that to him?”

Misun was more than willing to answer, although she glanced at the door, like she was making sure that her son wasn’t listening. Her phone began vibrating, and she paused, taking a moment to click it off before saying, “Well, Yeonjun’s a bit…different, I’m sure you’ve noticed. And while I’m not thrilled about it either, his father makes it a particular point to ridicule him for it. That, coupled with the way he always sees the best in people, makes him an easy target. His father knows he’s not getting any help from me, but if he goes to Yeonjun instead, well, it could be a different story. Does that make sense?”

Soobin nodded. It made perfect sense. It also made him quite angry, although he wasn’t sure if he had any right to be. Certainly it was the way any decent person would feel, when seeing someone else taken advantage of and manipulated like that.

“I take it you’ll be here until the kids graduate, then,” she said, looking Soobin in the eyes. Her eyes were just like Yeonjun’s, sharp and shining, but without the same angled brows. She had longer lashes. Her nose was a bit more flat where his was pointed, and as she was a grown woman, they didn’t share the same full cheeks. She must have quite a few years on Soobin as well, even if they didn’t show.

“Yes, that’s the plan,” he replied.

“Mm.” Misun looked at him a little longer than was necessary, just enough to make Soobin wonder what she was thinking. “You’ll take care of him, won’t you?”

It was strange to meet her gaze, knowing full well that just over a week ago, he was shut in a car with her son, making out with him as though they were lovers. His hands had been under her son’s shirt, his tongue in his mouth, under the cover of darkness like they were doing something illicit. They were. He knew her son more intimately than she could possibly imagine, and yet she stood here asking Soobin to take care of him.

He should feel guilty.

Still, he only dipped his head. “Of course.”

She smiled. “Good. I’ll be going, then, if that’s all. I have a meeting at five. And don’t worry too much about Yeonjunnie, he knows the area well, he’ll get home just fine. He likes to disappear when he wants to think. I’m sure you’ll see him tomorrow.”

Soobin wondered if she even thought it was worth her time to call him. From the sound of it, she didn’t seem to care much.

“I understand,” he answered carefully, and watched as she headed for the door.

“Have a good night, Soobin-ssi,” she said over her shoulder, coincidentally in a coy voice that he was used to hearing from that same exact place and mouth.

“You as well.”

Once she was gone, Soobin braced his hands against his desk, and took a deep breath. A deep wave of disappointment washed over him. Not once, throughout their entire exchange, did he feel anything for her. She was beautiful, strong, and intelligent. As soon as he saw her, he thought maybe, maybe this was his chance to escape and see everything righted in the world. If he could just be attracted to her, the woman who was Yeonjun’s spitting image, then it would all make sense.

But every time he looked at her, all he could think about was Yeonjun. And all of her individual traits, all of the things that separated her from him, irritated Soobin. She was imperfect. She wasn’t Yeonjun.

Undeniably, there was something masculine about Yeonjun that attracted him. There must be. He couldn’t ignore it any longer, even though it felt impossible to come to terms with. Yeonjun was beautiful in a way that was distinct to a man. He was broad-shouldered, tall, and muscular. And Soobin liked those things about him. He liked not having to make himself shorter to look him in the eyes. He liked that his clothes fit him, and Yeonjun could hold his own with him if he really wanted to, if Soobin overstepped his boundaries.

The only reason Yeonjun was so pliant and sweet was because he enjoyed it. He had the power to be rough. But he chose not to be.

And that was attractive. Yeonjun was alluring and strong just the same.

Yeonjun’s a bit…different, Misun’s words echoed in his head, and suddenly Soobin felt awash with guilt. Finally. It took so long to hit this time. That night in the car, he tried so hard to justify his actions. To make them normal. To make them straight.

He’d blamed Yeonjun. He’d rationalized that it was his fault for being different, and that Soobin had nothing to do with it, but that didn’t make him any better than Yeonjun’s shitty, emotionally abusive father.

Early on, Soobin had wondered what made Yeonjun so comfortable and confident, and thought it was because his family accepted him. But after meeting his mother today and hearing about his father, he realized that wasn’t the case at all. I’m not thrilled about it, either, she had said, with a roll of her eyes. Blaming him for the same thing Soobin had, making it seem as though his sexuality, and even his expression of himself, was a choice.

Yeonjun didn’t choose to be different. Yet somehow he became comfortable in his own skin, and Soobin, selfishly, didn’t want to know what he’d endured to become that way.

Maybe he wasn’t comfortable at all, but he did it because it felt right to him. Yeonjun wasn’t good at hiding things. He was vibrant, and honest, and more than likely, his family knew even before he did.

That made him braver than Soobin, and more admirable too. His parents weren’t supportive, but he kept his head high anway. He dressed how he liked and loved who he liked, and the approval of two adults who barely spoke to him wasn’t going to change his mind.

Soobin wished he could be brave like him. Even taking this step, acknowledging that he liked every part of Yeonjun, made shame prick at the back of his neck.

But if he wanted to understand Yeonjun, then he had to move on. It wasn’t fair to him. And in a way, having this relationship with him was beginning to feel like freedom, as tied down and constrained as it was. A fluttering freedom, small and made of hope, that promised a little breath of happiness in his dull life, which was all that Soobin ever wanted.

───────✧❁✧───────

Yeonjun texted him from time to time, and Soobin did his best to reply. The messages weren’t about anything in particular: mundane little aspects of Yeonjun’s life, places he went, things he ate, songs he loved, and lots of animal videos. Soobin liked receiving those texts from him. He looked forward to it every day. It made him feel like they were close, even while Yeonjun was essentially on exam lockdown. They only ever saw each other in class, but more and more, each class period just became devoted to practice testing. It was always dead silent in the room, and when the students finished, they were in a somber mood.

The crushing pressure of it affected them all, and Soobin wasn’t going to distract Yeonjun by demanding he think about him on top of everything else.

Yeonjun never mentioned the day he ran out of class, either, and so he left that alone as well. It wasn’t his place to inquire into Yeonjun’s personal affairs. If Yeonjun wanted to tell him something, he did. And since he didn’t say a word, neither did Soobin. Meeting with his mother and the things she told him would remain a secret.

Sometimes, Yeonjun would send him texts well into the night, and Soobin knew he was still at the academy, studying to the point of insomnia.

He himself was busy, of course, offering mock exams for all of the senior students and reviewing their written essays. They were often up at the same time, him and Yeonjun, just on different sides of Seoul, with Yeonjun studying and him grading papers.

It wasn’t the natural way of things. If Yeonjun were his age, the proper age for him, he would have graduated a long time ago. Soobin had no idea what he would be doing if that were the case. He probably wouldn’t even know who Yeonjun was.

If Soobin were Yeonjun’s age, they still wouldn’t be in the same spheres. As a child, he could have never afforded to attend school at an institution like the one he taught at. He would still be preparing for his exams, surely, but it would be in a public school, on the outskirts of the city, closer to his family’s home. His parents would have never allowed him to be around another boy like that, anyway.

But something in life brought them together, as opposite and far away as they were, and designed it in such a way where Yeonjun would send him videos of red pandas play-fighting well past midnight while Soobin sat at home and read a student’s fifteen-page essay about a novel he didn’t even like.

CYJ

look at how cute they are

CYJ

[image attached]

Yeonjun sent a picture of a particularly adorable red panda nesting in a tree, with a cream-colored face, pointed nose, and brown almond shaped eyes.

Me

That one kind of looks like you.

CYJ

hey my eyes are bigger than that

Soobin smiled.

Me

You’re right.

Me

Are you almost finished studying for the night?

CYJ

um. i’m home. if that counts…?

Me

You need to get some sleep. None of it will matter if you’re too tired to even think tomorrow.

CYJ

what were your csats like?

Me

Hard. And long. Just like they are now.

CYJ

wow that makes me feel wayyyy better hyung thanks for that

He sighed. Nothing he could say would completely ease Yeonjun’s mind when he had the biggest test he would ever take looming over him like an oncoming hurricane.

Me

I already told you that you’re going to do well. And frankly, I would know better than anyone else. You’ve got this.

CYJ

what if i fail

Me

You’re not going to.

CYJ

okay but what if i do

Me

Then it happens, and you move on with your life. I know you’re taught to think that these tests are the epitome of success, but you have other options. And if you’re really not happy with your score, you can take them again.

Me

I’ll tutor you all year if it really comes down to it.

CYJ

that’s a little better :)

CYJ

i think i’m gonna sleep now, there’s nothing else i can do at this point

Me

Okay. Sleep well.

CYJ

goodnight <3

Soobin stalled, then let himself type one last message.

Me

<3

Strange as it was, even Soobin had trouble falling asleep that night. Too many thoughts were all vying for the same space, and trying to shut them down one by one proved to be impossible. He wanted all of his students to do well tomorrow, not just Yeonjun, yet he couldn’t help but set aside a specific wish just for him. Yeonjun deserved to succeed.

He tried to justify it- Yeonjun would be so much happier once the pressure was lifted off his shoulders, and that was better for Soobin. They wouldn’t have to talk about it anymore. His mind would be free to occupy with other things.

They could spend more time together.

Exam results wouldn’t be released until around the time of graduation. Three entire months would be open, aside from class time, before Soobin would have to think about next steps.

And then it would be time to let Yeonjun go.

When his alarm clock read four in the morning, and he knew he wasn’t getting any sleep, he grabbed his phone and sent Yeonjun another text.

Me

Good luck today. I believe in you.

He didn’t have classes to teach as all of the senior students would be at testing centers, so he laid in bed for a while before getting the motivation to start his day. An hour later, while he was in the middle of making a modest, complete adult pancake breakfast, his phone vibrated with a series of messages.

CYJ

thanks hyung :)

CYJ

[image attached]

CYJ

i respond well to compliments, go ahead

Yeonjun had sent an image of himself that he must’ve taken before he left the house, dressed in the essentials of his uniform. He posed with a hand in his pocket and the camera slightly tilted. His eyes looked a little tired, but he didn’t seem as disheartened as he had last night.

Me

Very cute.

He must be on the train, because he responded right away.

CYJ

more :(

Soobin couldn’t help but smile, dangerously endeared by everything that he did.

Me

I see you in your uniform every day, what else do you want me to say?

CYJ

if u boost my morale now i’ll send u different pics later

CYJ

it’s a good deal trust me

Quickly becoming intrigued, he typed back:

Me

In that case, maybe I should tell you that I try not to look at you in class too often because you’re beautiful and it distracts me from what I’m teaching.

CYJ

go on…^^

Soobin sighed, realizing he would have to admit to something he’d tried quite hard to forget in order to impress Yeonjun enough to embolden him.

Me

Remember that lecture I gave on early 20th century literature?

CYJ

of course i do. u had to step out halfway through and were gone for like twenty minutes

CYJ

taehyun, beomgyu, and i played halli galli

CYJ

one of the best days of the semester

Me

That was the day you forgot your blazer and tie.

Me

And I should have marked you down for dress code. But I quite literally could not function.

Having confessed, at least, he felt slightly better. It should never reach a point where being infatuated with Yeonjun distracted him from his job, but it had happened once. Never again.

CYJ

:o

CYJ

really???

Me

Yes. Really.

CYJ

i did look kinda sexy that day ur right

The fact that Yeonjun knew it, and fully agreed with him, made him feel less weird about saying it. In fact, it gave him an idea.

Me

Correct. Think about it this way: you’re too sexy to fail your CSATs.

Miraculously, he took Soobin’s insane train of thought and ran with it.

CYJ

oh my god. i AM too sexy to fail my csats

CYJ

brb gonna go kick some exam ass thanks hyung <3

If Soobin knew that was all it took, he would have simply told Yeonjun he was sexy a long time ago. He thought it a bit crude, but clearly he liked hearing it. Yeonjun responded better to simple, straightforward compliments he was beginning to find. Another area where they differed -Soobin didn’t often believe people were being genuine if they could compliment him outright- but that was okay. It was easier, in fact, even if it felt foreign to him. Flattering him required little effort.

Did telling Yeonjun that he looked good really satisfy him that much? And if so, why didn’t Soobin know about it sooner?

He didn’t think Yeonjun was that shallow, but maybe it wasn’t about being shallow at all.

Now that he thought about it, he realized Yeonjun put a lot of effort into his everyday appearance. He styled his uniform differently than the other boys, he wore tasteful jewelry, and he liked to do his makeup and nails when he wasn’t in school. It was something he was passionate about. And perhaps he was used to it going unrecognized. Maybe he liked such little compliments because they made it seem as though someone paid attention to all the work he put in.

It really wasn’t a material thing after all. And it was something he should remember.

When he arrived at the academy, the silence struck him. Of course, the other teachers were there, taking advantage of the quiet time to grade, just like him, but the silence of testing day never ceased to impress. Even the city had been late waking up this morning, giving the students time to make it to their testing centers. Arguably, it was one of the biggest days in the country, year after year, and for the first time, Soobin had someone enduring it, someone he desperately wanted to succeed.

The day passed in a blur of mindless menial work. He kept his mind off the exams and on the papers in front of him. The sun was setting over the courtyard by the time his phone buzzed with another sequence of messages.

CYJ

I’M FREE

CYJ

sorry i’m just happy

CYJ

and also braindead don’t mind me

CYJ

i’m literally about to collapse and sleep for eight years

CYJ

or until class on monday u know what i mean

Soobin read his messages with a smile on his face, and realized Yeonjun must have texted him as soon as he was approved to leave. He was Yeonjun’s first thought. It made him glow, whether with pride or something else.

Another three texts quickly came in.

CYJ

but here as promised <3

CYJ

[image attached]

CYJ

u should invite me over on sunday to celebrate :)

What an innocent little self-invitation. Especially considering that the photo he sent was anything but.

To be fair, it wasn’t necessarily explicit, either. Once again, Yeonjun was posing in front of his mirror, this time wearing a rich robin blue v-neck sweater. However, instead of standing, he kneeled in front of the mirror with his thighs spread. And underneath he wore nothing, letting the sweater fall over his soft tan thighs and leave a thousand things to the imagination. The sleeves were bunched around his wrists, one sweater-pawed hand trapping the material to the floor to ensure nothing else was exposed.

Soobin quickly clamped his phone to his chest and shut his eyes. What a risky thing to do, opening a message like this while still at work. He had no idea Yeonjun would send something so suggestive. Any of his co-workers could have walked in. Yeonjun hadn’t even cropped his face from the photo, letting Soobin see his pouty lips and pretty eyes, and maxing out the thrill of danger.

Undeniably, it got his heart racing. He never knew something so terrifying could be so thrilling just the same. If anyone discovered that Soobin had this photo, he could be arrested, regardless of whether Yeonjun sent it without warning.

Yeonjun faced no consequences from all of this- he was untouchable because he was young, and it made him far too bold.

But Soobin could touch him. And Yeonjun obviously wanted it. He never knew another man could be like this, so utterly brazen and shameless. So slutty.

Even thinking the word made him desperate for it. Why had he been such a coward that night, when he took Yeonjun out? Yeonjun would have let Soobin fuck him in the back of his car if he really wanted to, didn’t care that he was unprepared, didn’t even care that he was inexperienced, yet for some reason, Soobin had turned him down. When this entire thing had been about sex from the very start, somehow, Soobin had twisted it up in his head, thinking he had to go down all of these complicated routes, and soften him with romance because it was the right thing to do.

None of this was right. Either way, he was committing a crime, but one path held infinitely more benefits for him. Soobin’s own masochism, so convinced that he didn’t deserve anything he wanted, coupled with his shame, made him blind to it.

His plan was never to date Yeonjun. That would be absurd, how could he have possibly gotten it so misconstrued? Yeonjun was beautiful, sure, but he was headstrong, and naive, and far too trusting. He was young. Too young, and Soobin should have just admitted from the start that it turned him on. Even if he’d never felt this way about another man so much younger than him before, that must be the case. In which case, it made him incredibly fucked up, but it was better than considering the alternative, in which he was simply attracted to Yeonjun, regardless of his age. That would complicate too much.

There wasn’t any reason why he shouldn’t be fucking Yeonjun now. It was his own damn fault that he’d made himself suffer so much.

Me

You’re so fucking gorgeous.

Heart still threatening to beat out of his chest, he felt relieved when Yeonjun answered immediately.

CYJ

i’m glad u like it ^-^~

Me

I’ll text you my address, we can celebrate properly. What kind of cake do you like?

CYJ

idc about the flavor but get a blue one

CYJ

i like blue

Soobin could tell. Blue was Yeonjun’s color. He wore it incredibly well.

Me

Blue it is.

Me

Get lots of sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow <3

It wasn’t selfish, what he was deciding to do. Yeonjun wanted the exact same things as him. In fact, he had been quite clear about it from the start, too. They were dancing around each other, for what reason he couldn’t exactly say. But he needed to simplify things between them. And meeting Yeonjun tomorrow, in his own space with a happy occasion in mind, would be the perfect opportunity.

Content with his decision now that it was made, he packed his things up, tucking his glasses away into their case.

You look handsome without your glasses, Yeonjun had mentioned. And so, Soobin slipped them into his desk drawer. They didn’t need to come with him for the weekend.

For nearly four months now, he had been walking a fine line, intent on never crossing the boundary he set for himself. From the start, he thought he was too much of a coward to go through with it, but with every day that passed and Yeonjun offered himself to him over and over, he was beginning to think that it didn’t come down to cowardice at all.

It was masochism, an unfortunate habit of his, and it had become too debilitating to ignore. He had come to terms with the fact that Yeonjun was a boy. He had come to terms with their difference in age, and the consequences it could potentially bring down on him. In not nearly so many words, he had come to terms with the fact that he would be committing a crime. It wasn’t just his own desire anymore, or Yeonjun’s skewed ideas of what he thought he wanted, or the shy little relationship they had established.

He needed something more. And in continuing to starve himself like this, he became his own worst enemy. He couldn’t let it continue, and Yeonjun was more than willing to satisfy him, even offering him the prize of being his first. A sweet and naive gesture, and one Soobin would accept. Really, it would be more cruel to turn him down seeing just how much Yeonjun was willing to give up for him. And as one of the few adults in his life who cared about him, it fell to Soobin to see his wishes fulfilled.

Soobin smiled to himself, retrieved his bag, and left the classroom. Outside, the sun had set, bleeding orange and red over a polluted skyline. It wasn’t the blue of his fantasies, but that was alright. He would be seeing Yeonjun soon.

Chapter Text

There is an endlessness to little things that make them anticipated and irreplaceable. Delicate tokens of time, reserved just for him, the beautiful things he would remember ten years from now, and wish he had captured in photographs.

Sensations, more than anything, kept themselves tucked away as lost gems. The unremarkable flutter in his chest while he stood there scrubbing his counters, thinking of a pretty smile, a word once said to him, the weight of another hand in his own. Feelings everyone in the world had felt at least once, making them incredibly common, yet somehow they became the feelings that nostalgia kept in amber and unthawed years down the line just to evoke emotion.

As Soobin watered the herbs growing in his kitchen windowsill, he wondered if he was allowed to feel like this. Too happy for his own melancholy history, too content for what had always been his typical wandering heart. He didn’t want to think of anything else, but did he deserve the feeling? He hadn’t earned it. He had tumbled headfirst into something he wasn’t prepared for, could never prepare for, and felt hopelessly and romantically out of his depth. Never before had not standing on solid ground felt so exhilarating. The threat of falling, as dangerous as it was, became a compelling case of l’appel du vide.

When a knock came at his apartment door, Soobin hurried to unlock it, coming face to face with Yeonjun who looked even more beautiful than he remembered. Maybe it was the way he wore his clothes, always perfectly fit to his body. Today it was a black tank top tucked into tight dark jeans, paired with a bomber jacket and combat boots. No prettier silhouette existed in the world.

“Hi,” Yeonjun said, his cheeks pink and a little breathless from taking the stairs, and Soobin didn’t have the strength to play dewy-eyed boyfriend right now, with that weightless threat looming over him.

“You’re so-” For once, he couldn’t even finish his sentence. He just tugged Yeonjun inside and shut the door behind him, before turning around and yanking him into a rough kiss.

Surprised, Yeonjun made a small noise, but let Soobin crush their lips together, tentatively bracing his hands on his shoulders. He took it as a sign to keep going, and pressed Yeonjun against the entryway wall, his own body almost covering Yeonjun’s entirely. Yeonjun might be strong, but Soobin was bigger, and it felt good to remind him. So good, in fact, that it drove him to assert his dominance more. He bit down on Yeonjun’s plump bottom lip, the one he always teased him with, and forced his tongue into his mouth. This time, he tasted like mint, as if he’d just brushed his teeth -no cherry lip balm today- and slowly, he opened up to him.

Not only was Soobin bigger, but he was older. He had every right to be the one in control.

He wanted him so badly it felt like he was being consumed by desire from the inside out.

Obviously overwhelmed, Yeonjun tangled his fingers in Soobin’s hair and tugged, like he was trying to get him to slow down. It would do him no good if he pushed Yeonjun too far, so he broke the kiss, but fixed his hands on Yeonjun’s hips, holding him in place while he kissed down his neck. His skin was soft, and he tasted like honey body lotion.

“Soobin-hyung,” Yeonjun gasped, a thunk coming from where his head fell back against the wall.

And that was the first time Yeonjun had ever said his name.

It felt like he’d been driven to the brink of madness- roughly, he pulled the bomber jacket back and dragged the strap of his top down with it, sucking pretty red marks across Yeonjun’s tan shoulder and collarbone. The sounds Yeonjun made were so fucking pretty, distraught little whimpers and moans that were hotter than any porn he’d ever tried to get off to, gay or straight.

The hands in his hair were holding him in place now, and he had his thigh shoved between Yeonjun’s legs. It took him a few minutes to notice Yeonjun grinding against him, but when he did, he flexed his thigh and moved it to press directly against Yeonjun’s hard-on.

It didn’t repulse him the way he thought it would when he first envisioned doing this with a man. In fact, it only made him desperate for more, feeling how aroused Yeonjun was by everything. It made him realize how much he liked it, being able to feel just how much he affected him.

Soobin kissed back up his throat, placing another on his lips before murmuring, “Could you really get off like this?”

Dazed, Yeonjun nodded, but panted out, “It’s messy, though.”

He kissed his jaw. “Do you want to stop?” He didn’t, he really didn’t, but if Yeonjun said yes, he would.

With his eyes shut, Yeonjun nodded again, and Soobin pulled back enough to give him space, watching as Yeonjun rested his head against the wall and caught his breath. He was so beautiful. Flushed and breathless, with his clothes hanging off of him and his hair far more disheveled than it had been ten minutes ago when he just walked in. Soobin had effectively ruined him without having to do much of anything at all, and it was incredibly satisfying.

They were both hard, but perhaps it was an act of mercy. Once again, Soobin wasn’t completely at ease with the place or time. He didn’t want the first time he made Yeonjun cum be from a bit of grinding in the hallway. His own hunger had gotten the better of him.

“Sorry.” It felt like the right thing to say. “I didn’t mean to just…jump on you like that. You look so pretty all the time, sometimes I struggle to restrain myself.”

It should be another red flag, but at this point, he had stopped expecting Yeonjun to question anything. And he didn’t.

“That’s okay,” Yeonjun said after a moment, and blinked his eyes open, gently running a hand through Soobin’s hair. “I like it.”

“You’re too much for me,” Soobin simply said, and gave him room to properly stand.

Yeonjun laughed, pushing off the wall. “I think I’m too much for most people.” He rebounded so quickly, maybe it was a virtue of youth, being able to come down from a high and regulate enough to pretend as though nothing had happened at all.

They settled somewhat after that, although adrenaline and something else still raced through Soobin’s veins. “I hope you weren’t expecting much,” he said as he escorted Yeonjun inside, rubbing the back of his own neck in an attempt to calm down. If he talked about boring things, the feeling should dull soon enough. “I’m only one person, I don’t need a lot of space.”

Still, Yeonjun surveyed the living room with surprising interest, walking over to all of his bookshelves, looking at the art on the walls, and even stooping down to examine the stack of photographs by the television that he never got around to doing anything with.

“Do you like photography?” Yeonjun asked, picking one up and turning it over in his hands. It was an old picture, one Soobin had taken with his friends in his senior year of college. “You look cute here.”

Even though it was a bit nosy, Soobin found him endearing, and went to look over his shoulder. “It’s a little hobby of mine. I don’t really have the time to be good at it, though.”

Retrieving another photograph, this one of the rose bushes behind his family’s house, Yeonjun said, “I think you’re very good at it. Why are all these pictures just sitting here?”

Soobin shrugged- it wasn’t the boring topic of conversation he had hoped for, and he didn’t want to delve too deep into his personal interests. They probably wouldn’t interest Yeonjun, anyway, who liked things in motion. “They’re difficult to organize. I don’t know how or where I would start. And every time I sit down to do something with them, I end up just looking through them and losing track of time.”

A stack of polaroids rested under the first series of photographs, and Yeonjun examined them, too. “You have two cameras?”

“Mhm. A film camera and a polaroid camera. Usually, the polaroids are for casual things. I’m more likely to carry it around with me. I think it’s over on that shelf right now.”

Those photographs were more simple. The view from a cafe he used to go to every day before it closed down, the rooms in his old apartment, the culinary set his mother gifted him last year. He took more pictures of himself, too, with the polaroid camera, and Yeonjun lingered on those longer, a gentle smile on his face as he looked at Soobin over the years.

“You’re handsome,” he glanced up to inform him.

Soobin playfully hummed. “I know.”

It wasn’t often that he teased Yeonjun back, but it felt nice sometimes, to indulge in his simple way of playing.

Yeonjun looked around for another moment, then seemed to locate something, striding over to the shelf he had pointed out earlier. Inside the drawer he pulled open rested Soobin’s polaroid camera. He took it out, examined its light blue matte finish, and seemed to like what he saw. Holding it out to Soobin, he said, “Take a picture of me.”

Mildly surprised, he took his camera. Of course he wanted pictures of Yeonjun, it had even crossed his mind last time they were together. He just never expected the boy to request them himself. “Alright. Where would you like to be?”

Yeonjun glanced at the rest of the living room. “I don’t know. Pose me. Whatever you think would look good.”

Soobin was beginning to realize how lucky, and maybe overly naive, Yeonjun truly was. Lucky, because the older man he’d fallen for happened to be him, someone with very few ill intentions or malicious desires. Naive, because he put himself in so many situations where it would be incredibly easy to take advantage of him. Meeting him at the park at night, coming to his apartment without telling anyone where he was, and now asking Soobin to take pictures of him any way that he pleased.

If he were truly a predator, Yeonjun would be such an easy target. It would be simple to manipulate him into taking off his jacket, simple to convince him to pose like a whore because Yeonjun was so desperate to impress him, simple to take pictures that he could use for selfish, sick purposes.

But he didn’t want Yeonjun to do any of those things. Didn’t that make him a better person? Wasn’t it a good thing, then, that Yeonjun was with him, and not somebody else?

“Maybe if you sit on the sofa?” Soobin suggested, and Yeonjun followed his advice, settling on the middle seat. His couch was russet brown and soft, and the tones looked nice against those of Yeonjun’s clothes.

Still, Yeonjun posed too much like a model for his liking. He was too good at it, almost as if he were at a fashion pictorial shoot, not a casual date.

“You can be comfortable. Just sit how you normally would.”

Slightly confused, but obedient nonetheless, Yeonjun sat with his legs crossed, elbows resting on his knees. Soobin checked the framing through the lens, and snapped the picture when Yeonjun glanced at him.

After a few seconds, the polaroid rolled out of the camera, and he spent a little while waving it back and forth to help it develop. Yeonjun rose to his feet and came to peek eagerly over Soobin’s shoulder again.

“How did it turn out?”

Soobin flipped the polaroid over, and they both examined it. The result was beautiful. Grainy and candid, the way he liked them. No overt staging. Just Yeonjun, his stunning facial features, and the mundane backdrop of Soobin’s apartment.

“Perfect,” Soobin concluded, and Yeonjun grinned.

He tried to hand the photo to him, but Yeonjun declined. “No, I want you to put it with your other ones. I don’t need any more pictures of me.”

Secretly pleased, Soobin set it on the stack, and put his camera down as well.

“I can show you the kitchen next, if you want.”

Yeonjun’s eyes lit up. “I remember you saying something about cake.”

“I did say that,” he acknowledged.

His kitchen was clean and modest, and Yeonjun seemed to approve, running his hands along the white countertops like the texture was pleasing. Soobin noticed he did that a lot, touching things just to see how they felt. He did it in class, too, spinning his pencils between his fingers and rubbing the corner of his desk with his thumb to the point where it had become smoother and rounder than all the others. With the amount of energy he always seemed to have, constantly fit to burst, it made sense. He was a kinesthetic person. He even did it with Soobin, rubbing his arm or the back of his hand, always bunching his shirt in his hands when they kissed.

Yeonjun liked to touch. Maybe it was one of his love languages.

“All you said was blue,” Soobin prefaced as he opened the fridge and retrieved the cake that he had picked up this morning.

Curious, Yeonjun watched as he placed the box on the counter and slowly slipped the cake out, setting it nicely on top. The cake itself wasn’t overly dramatic, just a simple royal blue Congratulations cake with pretty light blue frosting accents and pearl decorations. Soobin probably could have made him a better one if he thought about it sooner.

“I love it,” Yeonjun decided immediately.

Soobin rolled his eyes. “You’re so easily impressed. I would have baked one for you myself, but I didn’t want to seem overzealous.”

Yeonjun already had icy blue frosting on his finger, and stuck it in his mouth before informing him, “Lit teacher vocab. Turn it down a notch.”

He had another dollop of icing on his pointer finger, and Soobin grabbed his wrist, intent on breaking this habit of eating with his hands. But to his shock, Yeonjun just stuck his finger in Soobin’s mouth, and happily watched the rollercoaster of emotions he put him through.

In the end, all he could do was lick the frosting off, and Yeonjun laughed, taking his hand back. “You’re cute.”

Soobin wrinkled his nose. “Gross. Go wash your hands.”

“It’s your spit,” Yeonjun countered, but did as he was told, rinsing his hands off under the kitchen faucet. As they were like this, once again, Soobin began to lose sight of his end goal. Perhaps it came down to Yeonjun himself, so naturally playful and talkative that they ended up spending so much time simply being around one another. He enjoyed it, as odd as it was. He thought it would feel strange, talking this much to someone half his age, but Yeonjun was witty and fun, and just like any other person.

Slowly but surely, Soobin had begun spending more time with him than anyone else.

Soobin cut him a slice of cake and they sat together at his tall two-person table. At first, he had told Yeonjun he didn’t want any because it was to celebrate him and his achievement, but Yeonjun insisted, so they ate and talked, and Soobin once again discovered another part of Yeonjun that he was absolutely enamored with.

The way he ate endeared him. More than it should. But he was so cute, and the fact that he had no idea how appealing he was to Soobin at that moment made it even cuter.

His lips formed an adorable pout, and he ate so quickly that his cheeks puffed out, making him look entirely too kissable.

“And I really wish- why are you staring at me? Do I have something on my face?” Yeonjun paused mid-sentence, brow furrowed as he rubbed his lips.

He could take this as an excuse to kiss him, but instead he simply said, “You’re very cute.”

Yeonjun tilted his head, a little smile on his face. “Just out of nowhere, huh?”

Extremely cute.

“Especially when you eat.”

“Mm.” He nodded, finishing the bite he was currently chewing before pushing his plate away. “I’ve been told that before. It’s probably why I eat too much, you really shouldn’t encourage me.”

Soobin frowned. “What do you mean, you eat too much?”

He had never heard of something so ridiculous in his life. Especially coming from Yeonjun, who was already plenty healthy.

Yeonjun looked equally as confused. “It’s just a bad habit of mine. I’m trying to work on it, but it’s hard.”

“I don’t think you need to work on anything,” he said decisively, and nodded towards the kitchen. “I can get you another piece if you’d like.”

The smile Yeonjun wore looked a little forced this time, and he shook his head. “No, that’s okay, hyung. Thanks, though. It was really nice of you to get a cake.”

“I was happy to. And if you have more interesting celebrations planned for the day, I promise I won’t keep you for too long.”

Maybe it wasn’t true. He just wanted to be told that he was more important.

Yeonjun gave him an exasperated look, and said, “Hyung, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you since last time. I’m not going anywhere until you kick me out.”

That made Soobin smile, and he crossed his legs. “I don’t think I have it in me to kick you out.”

“You say that now,” Yeonjun hummed, and it was a mischievous little threat, one Soobin knew he could replace with one of his own, but of course, he kept silent.

“Do you want something to drink?” he offered. It was a good excuse to keep talking. “I have tea, cider, and hot chocolate.” He glanced over to his kitchen, where his last Christmas present from his mother sat in the corner, dusty and unused. “I have a coffee machine, but no coffee I’m afraid.”

“That’s okay. Tea is fine.”

And so, Soobin took their plates back into the kitchen and washed them while the water boiled. It only took a minute or so of being alone for Yeonjun to follow him in, and Soobin told him where the mugs were kept so he could get them down.

There was a strange feeling lingering in the atmosphere, but he couldn’t quite put a name to it. He knew he should feel a bit uncomfortable, sharing his space with a new person for the first time, but Yeonjun was surprisingly quiet and pleasant, and it wasn’t half as awkward as he had anticipated.

For some reason, he had always had this impression of Yeonjun as someone loud, and confident, and vivacious. And while that still held true at school, he was different when it was just the two of them.

When the water came to a boil, he put chamomile tea bags in both mugs and filled them with hot water, carrying them back out to the table where Yeonjun sat. Very faintly, Soobin could see the marks he had left on his throat earlier.

“I am…really sorry about earlier,” Soobin apologized again, the guilt still weighing heavy on his chest as he passed Yeonjun his mug. “I really don’t know what got into me.”

He knew what it was. It was a culmination of so many small catalysts, all of which boiled down to Yeonjun being the prettiest little thing he had ever seen, and not wanting to keep his hands to himself any longer.

And once again, Yeonjun indulged him with a sweet smile. “It’s seriously okay. I only made you stop because we have things to talk about before we…do anything.”

Soobin nodded. “Right. You mentioned something about that last time. Should we go into the living room?”

“Yeah, that sounds nice.” Yeonjun stood, taking his mug with him, and followed Soobin out of the kitchen. “I’m not trying to be annoying about it by the way. It’s just important, and I don’t know where your comfort level is at.”

That was the nicest way to say Soobin had been homophobic towards the entire idea of gay sex, and Yeonjun knew it made him uncomfortable to discuss out loud, that he could even imagine. In this aspect, Yeonjun almost sounded more like the adult. He wasn’t necessarily all that experienced, but he definitely knew more than Soobin. And even if Soobin would have preferred to not talk about it all, he knew that wasn’t a possibility. Yeonjun chose to trust him, of all people. The least he could do was put in the effort to do it properly.

He watched as Yeonjun ducked into the hallway, retrieving his tote bag and taking it with him over to the couch. Curious, Soobin followed him, and when Yeonjun sat, he did the same.

“You said you’ve only ever slept with a guy once, right?”

Soobin had taken the seat on the other end of the couch from him, and nodded. “Right.”

“And you topped?”

It seemed like a silly question to ask -how embarrassing would it be if the answer was no?- and nodded again.

Yeonjun read his facial expression. “There’s nothing demasculinizing about bottoming. Don’t look at me like that.”

Surprised, Soobin blinked. “Sorry. I didn’t mean…you’re right, of course. You just caught me off guard. No one’s ever asked me that before.”

He could tell that Yeonjun chose to let it slide, but he would have to tread carefully around the topic from now on. “Okay. And how much gay porn have you watched?”

A frown immediately found its way onto his face. “I don’t see how this is relevant.”

Completely unbothered by his response, Yeonjun took a sip of his tea. “Just humor me. It’s not embarrassing to talk about.”

Soobin stared at him for a moment. “Nothing seems to embarrass you.”

Yeonjun laughed, and brought his feet up onto the sofa. “Talking about sex doesn’t embarrass me. Romance does, though. I’m not as desensitized to it.”

From all the evidence Soobin had gathered, that appeared to be true. Yeonjun only ever became flustered when Soobin said something romantic to him, or flirted with him out of the blue. No mention of sex, or telling him that he was sexually appealing, ever seemed to trip Yeonjun up. It was a strange dilemma for someone his age, more suited to an older, more mature person. Like Soobin.

“Alright, fine. I’ve watched some. Not a lot. Only when I’m…desperate.”

A sly little half-grin appeared on Yeonjun’s lips, and Soobin didn’t like the look of it at all. “Desperate because it’s all you can actually get off to?”

“Sometimes,” he acknowledged after a painstaking moment of silence. “Why exactly are you interrogating me?”

Yeonjun, who was in the middle of another drink of tea, rushed to swallow and answered, “I’m not interrogating you. I’m getting an idea of what you’re comfortable with. Like, I have stuff I’m not quite used to either. It’s normal.”

Skeptical, Soobin asked, “And what would that be?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never had another guy finger me before. That would be something to get used to.”

Every time he spoke, something new and even more shocking came out of his mouth. Soobin realized that he had some adjusting to do, because Yeonjun was extremely comfortable with the topic, and he himself was not.

“I see. So why were you asking me about porn?”

“Oh. Well, I was just making sure that you know, just like straight porn, it’s not very realistic. They kind of skip over the part where they spend at least a good ten minutes making sure the bottom is prepared, and they don’t use nearly enough condoms.” When Yeonjun looked at him, he quickly said, “I’m really not trying to be a pain in this ass about this, but…”

Soobin saw a crack of vulnerability. “But what?”

“But I just…don’t want it to hurt that bad…if that makes sense. And I know you’re used to girls. And it’s different.”

That, Soobin could understand. In fact, if he thought about it from Yeonjun’s perspective, it was quite brave of him to preface any of this at all. Most people in his position, being here with someone so much older than them yet somehow less experienced, would simply mention a little bit and hope for the best. Age became a barrier here. But, he was making his own needs clear, while trying to present it in a way that was digestible for Soobin, and in a way where Soobin didn’t feel like Yeonjun was making fun of him for being uninformed. It was a mature and admirable move, and he owed it to Yeonjun to try harder.

“I understand,” he said gently, and scooted a little closer to him on the couch to show that he was listening. “Tell me more.”

Relief crossed Yeonjun’s face. “Okay, well, it can feel kind of unsexy sometimes, to do all the preparation, but it pays off. For both people.”

He nodded. “What would you say is the biggest difference?”

“First of all," Yeonjun lectured after a moment of thinking, sitting cross-legged now on the sofa. "You don’t want to think of it like a pussy. It’s not. I won’t get wet, no matter how turned on I am."

He turned, shuffling around in his tote bag for a moment, before tossing something his way. Soobin caught it on instinct, only to see it was a bottle of water-based lube.

"That’s gonna be our best friend, got it? You literally can’t have too much, especially if you’re used to having sex with girls. Luckily for you, I clean myself regularly. But if you’re ever hooking up with a guy at random, don’t expect it to be the prettiest thing in the world. Oh, along with that, just like you would with a girl, ask a guy before cumming in his ass, okay? It’s good etiquette. Although, that shouldn’t really be a problem for us considering you’ll be using these." Soobin was ready this time, and easily caught the pack of condoms Yeonjun tossed to him.

He couldn’t help but smirk at the size listed on the packaging. "Did you enjoy shopping for these?"

"Oh my god, I felt so empowered. The girl at the register thought they were for me, and she gave me her number."

Soobin raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? Do you think you’ll be using it?"

Yeonjun returned his look, and replied, "Considering that I’m sitting here, teaching you about the finer points of anal sex, I’d say you have nothing to worry about."

Suddenly, a thought struck him. “Wait, how do you know how big my dick is?”

The question just sort of slipped out his mouth, and Yeonjun rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, as though he were guilty of something. “Your pants. It’s just…I mean, sometimes I just see it. Especially that night in the car. It was…looking at me…”

Appalled, Soobin scolded, “Don’t say it like that!”

“It’s not a bad thing! It’s hot! You and your big dick are hot! Why do you think I want it so bad?”

Soobin could only stare, both somehow shocked and impressed. “You are really something else.”

“Yeah? Tell me more,” Yeonjun encouraged, voice taking on a dangerous, sexy quality. Something he shouldn’t know how to do yet, at least not well, and Soobin was extremely susceptible.

“You’re too confident for your own good,” Soobin informed him, lowering his tone to match Yeonjun’s. “It’s going to get you into trouble. But I think it’s unfairly attractive.”

Yeonjun set his mug down. “Really? What’s so unfair about it?”

“Everything about you is unfair,” Soobin answered honestly. “You’re gorgeous, and witty, and talented, and even the smallest things you do drive me insane.”

“I really like when you compliment me,” Yeonjun murmured, and placed a hand on Soobin’s shoulder, leaning in to kiss him.

It started out as an innocent kiss, and maybe if they weren’t talking about sex so much before, it wouldn’t work him up as much as it did. However, Soobin’s patience was quickly running out, and he rushed to deepen it, licking into Yeonjun’s mouth and fitting his hands on his waist. He could practically fit them all the way around Yeonjun if he wanted to, and it was such a satisfying realization, heat thrumming low in his abdomen.

Soobin held Yeonjun’s chin between his thumb and index finger, and murmured, "We could try it now if you’d like."

Yeonjun blinked his eyes open, maybe surprised, but he didn’t even stop to contemplate. "Okay."

His voice was soft, sweet, and it made Soobin kiss him again, slipping his tongue into his mouth and simply enjoying the moment.

Yeonjun consented. There wasn’t any reason why Soobin shouldn’t go through with it.

"If you’re good at it, I’ll suck you off," Yeonjun pulled back and offered, mindlessly trailing his fingers through Soobin’s hair.

He liked the feeling of it.

"Oh? Are we bargaining now?" Soobin inquired with a quiet laugh, only half-joking.

"No, I’m just saying! It’s educational. I’m motivating you to learn."

This conversation sounded eerily familiar, taking him back to last September.

"You are such a brat."

"But I make good points."

It wasn’t as if Soobin planned on turning him down. The deal was more than he could have hoped for- one of his fantasies was about to come true. "Alright, just talk me through it," he agreed. "Tell me what you normally do, and what feels good."

"Here?" Yeonjun glanced down at the sofa. "It’s messy. I don’t want to ruin your couch."

Indulging him, Soobin asked, "Where would you like to be? What would make you most comfortable?"

Once again, Yeonjun already had an answer in mind, but he sounded shy as he said, "Maybe…your room?"

He did clean the entire apartment in anticipation of Yeonjun coming over, but he thought there was a slim chance he would actually see his room.

"Okay, we can go there."

Yeonjun smiled, and took Soobin’s hand as they both stood. He also retrieved the bottle that sat on the table.

Soobin chuckled. His actions were cute. "I own lube, you know."

"Yeah I figured, but it’s not my lube. I don’t want it to be sticky."

"You always have a preference, don’t you?"

Soobin said it teasingly, and Yeonjun squeezed his hand, humming in agreement.

When he opened the door to his room, he wasn’t expecting much of a reaction.

But Yeonjun immediately walked in front of him, surveyed the space, and decided, "It’s cozier than I thought it would be," before sitting himself on the edge of Soobin’s bed.

"How were you expecting it to look?"

Yeonjun shrugged, although he had a playful smile on his face. "White. Empty. Boring."

"You do think I’m boring," Soobin accused, shutting the door and walking over to where he sat.

"I never said that." Yeonjun pulled one leg up onto the bed, leaning back on his hands. "I just didn’t think you’d be such a plant guy."

Soobin realized he had a point: there were four plants in this room alone, two succulents on his bookshelf, one hanging beside the glass door that led out to his balcony, and another standing in the corner by the entrance to the master bathroom. The kitchen had a second hanging pot, and herbs grew in the windowsill planter.

"It’s hot," Yeonjun assured him. "Guys who can take care of plants are sexy."

"Is that so?"

"Mhm. It means you’re compassionate and gentle. I like it."

For some reason, Soobin got the distinct sense that this obscure discovery of Yeonjun’s worked in his favor. He seemed more relaxed now that they were in his room, and Soobin suspected that the root of him pointing out all the plants was to assure himself that he was safe.

"I can be very gentle," he promised, once he realized what this was about, and Yeonjun smiled. Without hesitating anymore, he looped his arms around Soobin’s neck and brought him closer to kiss him once more.

It was a bit awkward from this angle, with Yeonjun sitting and Soobin towering over him, but he was used to this with girls. He bent to kiss him, a perpetual bump in his spine, and let one hand rest on Yeonjun’s waist.

Yeonjun’s fingers were in his hair again, and Soobin never knew such a simple action would turn him on so much. He had no idea that he even liked having his hair played with, but Yeonjun did it so frequently and tenderly that it was quickly becoming his favorite form of touch.

Within a few minutes, he fit his knee between Yeonjun’s legs, joining him on his bed. As always, his hands wandered.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun whined when Soobin’s hands found their way under his tank top, drawing slow teasing circles against his bare skin. It was the prettiest sound, and it made him crave more.

“Take your jacket off,” Soobin softly encouraged, and Yeonjun did as he was told, breaking their kiss to shrug it off his shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

He couldn’t look more beautiful, sitting there with his legs spread to accommodate Soobin, his arms bare and his cheeks tinged pink, looking up at Soobin with wide, uncertain eyes.

“Are you nervous?" Soobin gently gripped Yeonjun’s wrists, bringing them closer to hold his hands between his own.

A breath passed between them, and then Yeonjun nodded. He hadn’t expected him to be so honest. He thought Yeonjun would fake it and try to impress him, but doing the opposite made him look far more mature and stirred a dangerous feeling in Soobin’s heart.

"That’s okay," he said softly, and brushed his nose against Yeonjun’s cheek, feeling the way his breath fluttered. "It’s natural to be nervous. But there’s no need to be. I’m going to take care of you, Yeonjun-ah, okay?"

He was speaking about something he had no experience in. He didn’t even know what it felt like, but somehow, Yeonjun believed him, and nodded.

“Lean back.” He guided him to lay against the pillows, and couldn’t help but think he looked beautiful there, in Soobin’s bed. The place where he’d wanted to see him most. “You can tell me what to do,” he offered. “If it makes you feel better.”

Soobin had never done this with a man before, not really. He had no idea how different it might be. But in making it sound like he was offering for Yeonjun’s sake, it seemed like an act of indulgence.

Yeonjun placed his hand on the waistband of his jeans. “You’re not going to freak out, right? About the fact that I’m a guy?”

Maybe his earlier aversions hadn’t gone as unnoticed by Yeonjun as he thought.

He shook his head. “I promise.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun said softly. “Then come here.”

So, Soobin crawled up the bed until he was kneeling between Yeonjun’s legs, and kissed him again to ease his nerves. When they eventually broke apart, he could feel how hard Yeonjun was against his thigh and felt a rush of pride. He was turned on because of him.

“Sometimes it’s easier from the back,” Yeonjun explained, a little breathless as he worked his jeans open and pushed them down his legs. Soobin tried not to stare too long, tried not to focus on his pretty slender legs or the outline of his cock in his boxers, and instead helped him tug them all the way off, discarding them over with his jacket. “But I want to see you. If that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” he agreed, although he had no idea why Yeonjun would ask him in the first place. Of course he would prefer to see his face. It came down to Yeonjun’s own comfort more than anything.

And to his surprise, Yeonjun pulled his tank top off over his head as well. He seemed more shy about that part of his body, clutching the shirt to his chest for a moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” Soobin said partly to reassure him, partly because it was the only thing on his mind, and tucked Yeonjun’s hair behind his ear before he took the shirt from him. The encouragement helped, and he let Soobin kiss his shoulder, then the space in the center of his chest. Yeonjun’s skin was warm and tan, and he still smelled like honey. His chest was flat, and the shape of his body attracted him more than that of any woman he’d ever slept with. Maybe this was what he had wanted all along, and it took him thirty years to see it for the first time.

“You too,” Yeonjun whispered, tugging on his button-up shirt. When Soobin hesitated, he added, “Please?” and he couldn’t say no even if he wanted to.

So, he let Yeonjun help him undo each button, and let the white shirt join the others on the floor.

The difference in their bodies immediately became apparent. Soobin was a healthy, fit adult man in his early thirties, while Yeonjun’s own body was soft and skinny, still developing muscle mass, just a couple years out of puberty.

And it slowly dawned on him that he didn’t like Yeonjun because he was young. Maybe he had known that wasn’t the case all along, but felt too afraid to admit it to himself, deciding he would rather be a bit fucked in the head than be attracted to Yeonjun regardless of the way he looked.

As he gazed at him, he couldn’t help but wonder how Yeonjun would look in a few years. In any way he imagined it, Yeonjun would be stunning. Even if he filled out, if he grew into those shoulders, and his precious cheeks inevitably slimmed, he would still be the most attractive person to Soobin. Maybe even more so.

While he was looking at Yeonjun, he didn’t realize Yeonjun was looking at him, too, until he felt his hands on his shoulders. “Can I touch you?” he murmured, and Soobin nodded.

Yeonjun slid his palms from Soobin’s shoulders down his chest, running a thumb along his abs before leaning forward to leave a kiss just below his collarbone. The subtle touch made him shiver, and Yeonjun just kissed him again in response, this time right below his chest.

It was delicate, the way he touched him, and intentional. More tender than he would have anticipated. He couldn’t even guess the last time another person had touched him in such a way.

Soobin carded his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair, then grasped his chin, bringing him up to kiss his lips. When Yeonjun began to relax more, become comfortable against the pillows and simply get lost in their languid exchange, Soobin placed a hand on his hip.

That one light gesture seemed to bring something out in Yeonjun, as he lifted his hips, trying to get Soobin to touch him more. “You can keep going,” he breathed against him, granting permission.

And so, still over his boxers, Soobin pressed his palm to his bulge and let him grind against it. Teeth dug into his bottom lip, Yeonjun biting him from the pleasure of the sudden stimulation. He liked how sensitive Yeonjun was, and how quickly he reacted.

He knew it must feel good. For once, doing this with another man, he knew exactly how that sort of touch felt. With girls, he could never gauge how well he did anything, having no reference for what was normal, but he knew what a hand on his cock felt like. He knew Yeonjun felt even better when Soobin slipped his hand past the waistband of his boxers and wrapped it around his erection, stroking him slowly.

It made him feel powerful, having the awareness that he did.

“You don’t have to-” Yeonjun struggled to say, torn between kissing Soobin frantically and bucking his hips up into his hand. It was cute, the way his mouth and body said two completely different things.

“I want to,” Soobin promised, and ducked his head to suck a mark on his neck.

“Wetter,” Yeonjun eventually gasped out, and it took Soobin a moment to realize he meant his hand.

Still, he pulled back, removed his hand from his boxers and tilted his head, teasing, “Are you going to cum if I do that?”

Embarrassed, Yeonjun hesitated before admitting in a small voice, “Maybe.”

“Do you want to?”

If Yeonjun wanted to leave it here at a simple handjob, Soobin would let him. It was already more than they had ever done before. Easing him in, ensuring he was completely comfortable with him, was a process that he was willing to endure.

But Yeonjun shook his head. “You can…use your fingers. If you want.” After another second, he added hastily, “I did it earlier. Before I came over so it would be…easier for you.”

Momentarily stunned, Soobin sat back on his knees. “You fingered yourself before coming here?”

Slowly, Yeonjun nodded. His cheeks were flushed a pretty primrose, and Soobin liked the way embarrassment looked on him. With Yeonjun’s typical overwhelming confidence, he never got to see it.

“You’re a little slutty for a virgin, aren’t you?”

Yeonjun’s pretty eyes went wide, breath catching in his throat.

Soobin hadn’t even meant to say it; the words were supposed to stay a thought, tied up in his mind with every other dirty, perverted thing he thought about Yeonjun, but somehow they broke free and slipped past his tongue like a secret.

“I’m sorry,” he quickly apologized, heart racing. In just one sentence, he managed to fuck everything up. “I didn’t-”

“Yes.” Yeonjun interrupted him. “Fuck, I am- hyung, please- please touch me.”

Fire cut through him, hot and tumultuous, and he breathed out, “Okay.”

Suddenly, they had both become desperate. Soobin yanked Yeonjun’s boxers off and grabbed the bottle of lube that he’d left at the foot of the bed. And fuck, he was so unfairly sexy. If anyone saw him like this, naked, and beautiful, and spreading his legs for him, they would understand. They would understand why Soobin did the things he did, they would understand the choices he made, and the risks he was willing to take.

They would understand why it was all worth it.

He coated his fingers and used the other hand to cup Yeonjun’s ass, squeezing gently. Something he had wanted to do since the first time he saw him in those slim black jeans. He never allowed himself to think just how pretty a boy would look spread open like this. His skin was paler here, hairless, and so soft that he wanted to mark him all over with his teeth. Too rough for now, however, and he settled for pressing his thumb tentatively to Yeonjun’s pretty hole.

Very carefully, he let his fantasies take over. It didn’t matter that he was inexperienced and unconfident. Secretly, he had been dreaming of having another man like this for a long time.

“One finger first…” Yeonjun said, voice soft and nervous.

“I’m just using one,” he reassured him, and couldn’t help but say, “You’re so pretty,” mostly because it was true, but partially to put Yeonjun at ease once more. Compliments relaxed him. He used his middle finger, slick and coated with lube, and slowly pushed it in. At first, he was met with resistance, the natural response to a foreign intrusion, but after a moment, Yeonjun’s body started to open up, and he was able to slip his finger in to the first knuckle.

It was tight, tighter than any pussy he’d ever been inside before, and warmer too. He could feel his cock straining against his jeans, jealous of his hands.

Yeonjun exhaled shakily, and when Soobin glanced up, he had his eyes closed. “Does that feel okay?”

He nodded. “One doesn’t feel like much.” Yeonjun was clearly trying to sound composed, and Soobin found it cute when both his cheeks and cock were flushed pink with nerves and arousal.

So, Soobin pushed his finger in further, twisting to coat his walls with lube, and Yeonjun gasped when his finger was completely inside.

“D-did you-” He lifted his head, eyes cloudy, lips red where he had bitten them. “Fuck, your fingers are so long, I thought it was all the way in already. Do that again.”

Liking the expression on his face and the way his voice trembled, Soobin did as he was told, pumping his finger in and out of Yeonjun and watching in rapture as he writhed from just one.

“Put another one in,” he panted, desperate for it now.

It didn’t take long for Soobin to realize that he liked this game. Once he managed to press two to Yeonjun’s entrance, saw the way he took them so easily and how he fell apart from Soobin scissoring him open, he began to enjoy the amount of control something so easy had given him. Yeonjun was more sensitive than any girl he had fingered before, and maybe it was because it was a new experience, having someone else inside of him. Or maybe it was because he was a boy, and was so used to getting off from playing with his cock that every thrust of Soobin’s fingers against his prostate had him coming undone.

“Does it feel good?” He knew the answer, and his words came out low and rough.

Yeonjun just moaned, desperately nodding. “M-more.”

Soobin’s ring finger was already wet, but he slipped the other two out just to see Yeonjun’s pretty hole flutter at the loss. He wanted to be filled so badly that he canted his hips up, as if to convince Soobin to put them back in, and whimpered when he remained empty.

“Why are you teasing?” Yeonjun whined, tears in his eyes. They clumped his lashes together, making him look like a doll.

More stunning than anything Soobin’s mind had conjured alone in his bed in the darkness.

“Do you really think you can take three?” he responded with another question, setting a trap for Yeonjun to show him once again just how desperate for it he was.

Instant satisfaction washed over him as Yeonjun started nodding, hair splayed all over the pillow, and whined again, “I can take them- please, hyung, I want it.”

He was too cute for Soobin to deny, so of course he eased his fingers back into him, and took his time in adding a third, wanting to make sure they really would fit. Not only were his fingers long, but they were thicker than average, too, and Yeonjun squirmed from the stretch of just two.

“What else have you used to play with yourself before?” Soobin twisted his fingers, curving against his tight walls and opening him up more, before thrusting all three at a steady pace.

Yeonjun gasped, moaning louder each time Soobin hit his prostate. Both his nipples and cock were hard, pre-cum smearing against his stomach, and Soobin wanted nothing more than to fuck him right there.

It was requiring an immense amount of self-control. Talking helped, and so he prompted again, slowing his thrusts enough to give Yeonjun the chance to answer. “Is it too much?”

“N-no, it’s so good,” Yeonjun mumbled, rocking his hips back to get Soobin’s fingers deeper into him. “I’ve only used a toy once. This- you’re better.”

The praise went straight to his cock, and he finally touched himself, rubbing over the bulge in his jeans. Just for a second, just enough to alleviate the ache. “How big was it?”

Yeonjun shook his head. “Not big enough. Maybe six inches.”

He was right- it wasn’t nearly big enough. At least, not enough to prepare him for what it would feel like if Soobin were to fuck him. It fueled his ego, but it was more inconvenient than anything else.

“That’s okay,” he said sweetly, crooking his fingers, and Yeonjun moaned. “We’ll work up to it.”

“Mm, mhm,” Yeonjun agreed, dazed and already fucked out enough from his fingers. “Hyung, touch me more.” He clenched around him, desperate to cum, and Soobin knew he couldn’t do it just from having something in his ass.

“Here?” He circled his hand around Yeonjun’s cock, now sticky with pre-cum.

“Y-yeah.”

It was pretty, the way his voice shook, and Soobin wanted to hear what he sounded like when he came. So, he continued to fuck him with his fingers, faster now, and matched the pace as he jerked his cock. Yeonjun didn’t know what to do with his own body, so stimulated from both angles, just whimpering and hiccuping with each thrust. When he would fuck up into his hand, Soobin would pressed the pads of his fingers to his sweet spot, and watch him writhe from the sensation. His cheeks were wet with tears, and he had one of his own hands twisted in the sheets, the other splayed across his chest.

Yeonjun’s whines grew long and drawn out, nearly crying, and with one more jerk of his cock, he came all over his stomach and Soobin’s hand. Carefully, Soobin slowed the movement of his fingers and eased them out of him, his hole clenching once it was empty.

He seemed embarrassed, covering his face with his arm and shutting his legs, and Soobin thought he was the most precious thing in the world.

“You were so good,” he praised softly, moving up to be beside him. He pulled a few tissues from the box on his nightstand to clean his fingers and what he could of Yeonjun’s cum, already planning on cleaning him up properly later.

Soobin kissed his forehead, and waited for Yeonjun’s breathing to settle, playing with his hair until Yeonjun let him see his face. His cheeks were still flushed, but his eyes were no longer dark and sultry, and instead looked uncertain, as if he didn’t know how Soobin would react.

Instead of saying anything, he just dipped his head and kissed Yeonjun, slow and deep. It felt nice to lay beside him and gather him into his arms, his own pleasure strangely still at the back of his mind. Getting off wasn’t nearly as important as making sure Yeonjun was okay, and he enjoyed watching him come undone almost as much as if he had been the one on the brink of orgasm himself.

“Let me clean you up,” he murmured after a few minutes, and Yeonjun untangled himself from him, letting Soobin get to his feet and retreat to the master bathroom. When he came back with a warm, wet washcloth, Yeonjun sat at the edge of his bed, and the sight alone was enough to remind him of why he’d wanted this so badly in the first place.

It was a brief suspension, a moment of selflessness, but the opposite returned in full force now. Still, he ignored the sensation, ignored how hot his face felt, how uncomfortable his pants were, and just focused on pressing the cloth between Yeonjun’s legs and against his stomach, wiping off the mixture of lube and cum on his skin.

Yeonjun seemed to be embarrassed about still being naked, so he slipped his boxers back on while Soobin discarded the cloth in his laundry basket.

When he turned back around, Yeonjun still sat there, hands braced on the sheets, looking at him with a strangely intense gaze.

“Was it okay?” Soobin asked, walking back over to him.

Yeonjun nodded. “More than that. Um, thank you, hyung.”

He cupped Yeonjun’s cheek, felt arousal flare in his stomach as Yeonjun leaned into the touch and kissed his palm. “You don’t have to thank me,” he murmured.

Yeonjun kissed his wrist, too, then glanced up at him. Soobin almost didn’t register the grip Yeonjun had on his thighs, so enraptured by those gorgeous brown eyes. “I want to, though.” Soobin’s cock throbbed, but still, he hesitated, only for Yeonjun to whisper, “I’m really good at it. I’ve been wanting to show you for months.”

And so, he let Yeonjun grab him by the hips and push him down into the spot he’d just been sitting in a moment ago, tried not to expect too much as Yeonjun got on his knees in front of him, and helped him shove his jeans down his legs.

The sight was almost too much for him already, and the reality of another fantasy blossoming in front of him hit when his boxers were pulled down too, and finally, he got to relish the sight of Yeonjun on his knees for him, feel the way his warm breath fanned against his aching cock, and experience the satisfaction of making his perfect student question his own capabilities.

“Go slow,” Soobin advised. He had been here before, seen girls who were quite confident reduced to uncertainty in the blink of an eye, and he knew what to say.

Yeonjun held his cock in one hand, licking one long stripe along it before taking the tip into his mouth. Soobin had fantasized about how pretty it would look, nestled there between his rosy plush lips, and he was right. Yeonjun suckled gently, lapping his tongue over the sensitive slit, just enough to tease Soobin to the point of gripping his hair and encouraging him to take more.

He knew Yeonjun could do it. The boy who was good at everything wouldn’t disappoint him now, when it was most important.

With his small hand wrapped around the base, Yeonjun slowly took more of his cock into his mouth, and glanced up at Soobin through his lashes once he was nearly halfway there.

Soobin breathed out, trying not fuck into his mouth. “You can do it,” he said softly.

Yeonjun bobbed his head -maybe in an effort to fit more, or maybe just to agree- and dragged his tongue along the underside of his cock.

“Fuck,” Soobin hissed, pressing his thumb against Yeonjun’s cheek where he could see the bulge of it. Just like he’d looked the night they met, with that red lollipop stuck in his mouth and a far more arrogant expression on his face.

How satisfying, to be here now with Yeonjun on his knees for him, with glossy tears in his eyes and spit slicking his lips from sucking his cock.

Yeonjun used his own spit to pump the part he couldn’t fit in his mouth, languidly jerking him off while he used his mouth expertly, as if he knew where Soobin was most sensitive.

Of course he did. He was a boy, he knew what felt good. And it felt incredible. The blunt head of his cock brushed against the back of Yeonjun’s throat, hot and wet, and it took every ounce of willpower not to thrust deeper. He had to let Yeonjun set the pace. Even if his thoughts were growing hazy as pleasure consumed him, he knew this was important.

It wasn’t just the sensation of having his mouth wrapped around his cock that had him so desperate. It was the sight of Yeonjun himself, mostly naked and glowing in the late afternoon sun, with his sultry half-lidded eyes and swollen lips, so intent on getting him off that he wasn’t even touching himself. Spit trailed from the edges of his lips, and he used it to slick his balls, fondling them with his other hand. Another thing the girls he dated always forgot, and the additional stimulation felt even better, more complete somehow.

The sounds of it were filthy, Soobin’s own heavy breathing and low moans, and the wet sound of his cock fucking in and out of Yeonjun’s mouth. Yeonjun was breathing through his nose, and he whined when Soobin tried to make him go too fast, nearly choking for the first time.

“Is it too much?” he panted, loosening his grip on Yeonjun’s hair when he nodded, tears stuck to his eyelashes.

He almost came at the image, and forced himself to make it last, wanting to remember every second of this so he could come back to it on nights when Yeonjun wasn’t with him.

Yeonjun eased off his cock to breathe for a moment, and licked over it with his tongue instead like it was candy. When he fit both hands around him, the tip of his cock bumping against Yeonjun’s lips, it was almost cute, and for just a second, Soobin felt guilty about what he was doing.

Was he corrupting Yeonjun in some way? He couldn’t be. It was something Yeonjun already knew how to do at his age, something he liked doing. Soobin didn’t even ask him to. It wasn’t his fault that Yeonjun liked to pleasure other men on his knees, even if those men were fifteen years older than him.

Yeonjun asked permission, and Soobin gave him several opportunities to change his mind. They were two consenting adults. There wasn’t any reason why he should feel guilty getting off to this, or to him.

So, he twisted his fingers in Yeonjun’s hair again and pressed his cheek to his cock, encouraging him to take it back into his mouth. And, so beautifully obedient, Yeonjun did just that, parting his lips and letting Soobin guide his cock between them. The way he looked up at him made him believe that what he was doing couldn’t be wrong. Yeonjun wouldn’t be so eager otherwise, so willing to touch him and taste him, even surrendering and sitting pretty when Soobin couldn’t tolerate his pace anymore, and started fucking his mouth in earnest.

The tears in his lashes spilled down his cheeks again, but he completely gave up control, just keeping his mouth soft and wet for him until Soobin gripped the back of his head, holding Yeonjun in place as he came down his throat.

When Soobin’s cock slipped back out past his lips, Yeonjun didn’t look resentful or upset with the rough treatment. He even lapped up the lingering strings of cum before tucking him back in and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he looked innocuously up at Soobin, as if he’d done nothing. It was an innocent sight, twisted and fucked the way he loved it, and he knew he would only want to see it again.

“You did so fucking well,” Soobin praised, still breathless, and helped Yeonjun up onto his lap. That single compliment seemed to unlock something in him, and he nearly purred, his voice gravelly and spent. They kissed again, messy and languid, both still in that hazy post-orgasm state of mind.

For a moment, he wasn’t sure where to go from there. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go anywhere. Convinced he could stay here for days, Yeonjun pressed against him on his lap, lazily swapping spit, the weight of him pleasant and warm, where else would he possibly go?

“I told you I was good,” Yeonjun still managed to brag even in such a daze, and Soobin gripped his hips tightly, kissing his shoulder. Everything Yeonjun said only ever continued to draw him in, and he felt closer to the precipice now than he had earlier, contemplating if he even deserved it. If he deserved him.

He didn’t care anymore. So what if he didn’t? Yeonjun chose him, anyway, he wouldn’t even let Soobin try to change his mind. Soobin had done everything he could to dissuade him, and they had reached this point regardless, so maybe it wasn’t up to him at all.

Then again, if things were right and the way they were supposed to be, the aftermath wouldn’t feel so strange. He wouldn’t be lying there with Yeonjun, stroking his hair and wondering when he was supposed to be home. If his mother was worried about him.

It dampened his dream a bit, and he sighed, pressing his nose into Yeonjun’s hair. He must use a rose-scented shampoo, the scent still clinging to him, but a sheen of sweat shone on his cheeks, hair disheveled, and Soobin knew he couldn’t go home looking like that.

Yeonjun must have been thinking the same thing, because he sat up first, stretching like a cat before getting to his feet. “We should take a shower.”

Soobin was going to let him shower alone and clean himself up later, but he realized maybe Yeonjun still wanted to hang out. That was fine with him. Preferable. Just unexpected. He thought he would leave.

“Okay,” he agreed. “Let me get you a towel, I’ll be right back.”

Showering with him was peaceful. It wasn’t like he hadn’t shared a shower with another man before. When he lived in a dorm, at bathhouses, during his military service. Of course, it was a much more hands-off, pretend-you-couldn’t-see-each-other sort of affair.

They were less awkward, but it wasn’t like they were familiar lovers, either. Fifteen minutes later, Yeonjun was blow-drying his hair, and Soobin was dry and boiling more water for their tea that had gone cold.

When Yeonjun emerged from the hall with fluffy hair, Soobin smiled. He looked soft, clean, and beautiful. “Here,” he said softly, passing him his re-filled mug. Yeonjun returned his smile, lifting the tea to his lips and blowing on it.

It was almost as if nothing had happened at all.

And Soobin realized he needed a way to reassure himself that it did happen, that Yeonjun was real, and not a strange lucid dream he had conjured up in a self-loathing state.

“Can I take another picture of you?”

It was a weird request, completely out of the blue, and Yeonjun seemed surprised, but nodded. “What for?”

“You’re beautiful,” he answered honestly, mindlessly, as he went to find his polaroid camera.

“I’m just standing here…”

That was the most beautiful thing to Soobin. “Exactly. You’re not doing anything.” He found his camera and brought it back into the kitchen. He didn’t tell Yeonjun to pose or anything, and Yeonjun seemed to understand, giving him a light, common smile. Soobin snapped a picture, and barely waited for it to roll out before he lined up the camera to take another one. Yeonjun lifted his mug to his lips again, and didn’t even look at him. It was perfect. He took a second picture.

When Yeonjun examined the pictures, he admitted, “I don’t know what you see, but I’m glad you like it.”

That was okay. He didn’t have to see it. Soobin did, and that’s all that mattered. For now, he let them sit on the counter, and they talked for a while. Yeonjun kept carding his fingers through his hair, head tilted, laughing at little things. Soobin never thought of himself as an interesting person, but Yeonjun listened well when he had something to say.

Maybe an hour had passed like that, Yeonjun carrying on a light, easy conversation, until his phone started vibrating. He rolled his eyes before he even pulled out his phone; clearly he had a guess as to who was calling. Soobin got up to give him space, taking their mugs into the kitchen. Still, he overheard part of his conversation.

“Yeah, I’ll be home in an hour…I’m sorry, I lost track of time. No, we’re not outside…Don’t call her, I’m coming home now. Yeah…Okay, I’ll see you in a little bit. Bye.”

Yeonjun sighed, and Soobin took it as his view to reappear. “Your mother?” he inquired.

With a nod, Yeonjun complained, “She’s worried about the weather.” When Soobin looked confused, Yeonjun added, “She thinks I’m out with Taehyun, walking around or something. We don’t usually hang out at his house because his parents are the worst.”

If their relationship was normal, a conversation like this wouldn’t come up.

“How so?”

“They think I’m corrupting him, or something,” Yeonjun said with a shrug, standing up. “Making their son a homosexual.”

Soobin frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Then again, his own parents more than likely would have done the same thing if he knew someone like Yeonjun as a kid.

“Yeah, I know.” Yeonjun sighed again. “It didn’t used to be a thing. They really liked me when we were kids.” The way he said it made it sound as though their treatment didn’t bother him, but Soobin got the feeling that wasn’t true at all. In fact, Yeonjun seemed eager to change the topic, away from something so sensitive. “Anyways, I’ve gotta go. But I had a really fun time with you, hyung, thanks for inviting me over.”

“Wait, you said your mom was concerned about the weather.”

Yeonjun glanced at his phone. “Oh, yeah, it started snowing a little while ago. Apparently it’s supposed to go on for a few hours.”

Soobin nodded, and grabbed his coat. “I’m driving you to the subway station.” It wasn’t a request. It was an obligation, and Yeonjun hesitated.

“Hyung, I can walk.”

“I’m certain you can,” Soobin agreed, fetching his keys from the bowl by the door. “That doesn’t mean I want you to.”

“I’m perfectly capable-”

“Yeonjun, the station is over a mile away,” he reminded him sternly. “You’re not walking.”

There was a brief moment where Yeonjun just glared at him. And then he gave in. “Fine.” They put their shoes on in silence, and Yeonjun didn’t say another word, even when they were sitting in his car and waiting for the heat to kick in.

“It’s not because I don’t think you can take care of yourself,” Soobin said quietly as he drove. Flurries of snow splattered against the windshield, the typical gray sky a darkened charcoal. Orange light from the city painted the underside of the clouds a sickly polluted hue. He got the distinct sense that he had touched on one of Yeonjun’s insecurities, and wasn’t sure how to rectify his mistake. “Being out in weather like this would still worry me, regardless of your age.”

It was the first time Soobin had addressed their age gap so plainly, and Yeonjun finally looked at him. “I don’t want you to think of me like a kid,” he murmured.

“I know. And I don’t.”

Not really, anyway. He was overage, but that didn’t really make him an adult in Soobin’s eyes either, no matter how badly Soobin wished it did. It was complicated, more than it should be, and put them on this strange line not knowing exactly where the other stood.

Because in some regards, Soobin felt their age difference immensely. Times like now, where he had a distinct idea of what Yeonjun needed, and Yeonjun retaliated by being petulant and oppositional, even if Soobin had his best interests at heart. But other times, their difference in age seemed entirely inconsequential. Like in his apartment, sharing a meal, talking about hobbies, and laughing over little things. When it came down to personality, Yeonjun’s age didn’t matter. His emotional maturity outpaced everything else. But Soobin knew that in thinking that, he was walking a dangerous line. Just because Yeonjun felt older to him, didn’t make it true. And it certainly wouldn’t hold up as an excuse to anyone else.

When they reached the subway station, Yeonjun was quick to undo his seatbelt and kiss Soobin’s cheek, just like he did the last time. “Thanks, hyung,” he said softly.

“Am I allowed to thank you, too?”

“Don’t.” Yeonjun giggled. He allowed their brief disagreement to dissipate. “It’ll make things weird.”

Soobin partially agreed, considering everything Yeonjun had done for him today, and instead just said, “Fair enough. You’ll get home safely, then?”

Immediately, he received another glare, although this one was less sharp. “Yes, hyung, I’ll get home safely. Stop worrying so much, your hair will be gray before you hit thirty-five.”

That was only three years away, closer to two now, and immediately Soobin felt the need to defend himself. “I’m going to be incredibly handsome until I’m at least sixty, thank you very much.” It was in his genes, and he refused to just lay down and be called old.

“Hm, we’ll see,” Yeonjun teased as if they would even know each other then, retrieving his bag and opening the car door. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“You too,” Soobin replied, sounding dangerously endeared, and he watched Yeonjun’s back until he was out of sight.

At the start of all of this, Soobin had decided that doing this with Yeonjun would be an act of resignation. Giving up, or giving in, either way it wasn’t a conscious choice. Not something he would have picked if given the option, but because Yeonjun pursued him so relentlessly, he thought he simply had to sit back and let it occur. Completely disregarding his own choices, his infatuation with Yeonjun that grew deeper every day, and how he had essentially aligned the dominos to fall in his favor. Once again, it was easier to blame Yeonjun rather than to look at himself and how he got here.

But for the first time, he wondered if what they were doing was wrong at all. Maybe Soobin had been the biased one, coming in with so much prejudice against their relationship, believing it couldn’t really work because that was what society taught him to think. Wasn’t it all just black and white lines drawn by faceless people? Nowhere did it say that Soobin couldn’t smudge them a little, turning black and white into gray, which was a much more realistic color, anyway.

If what they were doing was wrong, he wouldn’t feel so happy. Or, if that really wasn’t the case, then what was the point of doing the right thing? Soobin had done “the right thing” all his life, and he was miserable. Lonely, repressed, and self-loathing, he lived like that for years.

Yet now, here he was blurring the lines for the first time, and all his choice continued bringing him was elation. His heart had beat more in the past five months than it had during any other year. Excitement like that kept a person young. It reminded them what it was worth living for. So he couldn’t possibly be making the wrong decision. And if that were true, maybe it would be okay to let this go on a little longer, without pinning a deadline he couldn’t take back once it was crossed.

───────✧❁✧───────

The following class day, Soobin realized just how difficult it would be to play as strangers again. Things were different now. Every time Soobin looked at him, sitting in the back row in his school uniform and laughing with Choi Beomgyu, he couldn’t help but think back to all the ways he had seen him just a day prior. Giving Soobin that same smile and laugh while they talked in his kitchen, the serene expression Soobin had captured to keep forever in a polaroid, how pretty and ethereal he looked when he came from just Soobin’s fingers.

Now, everything was normal. It had to be. They ignored each other. It was easier than risking saying too much.

But deep down, Soobin was desperate to see him again. Not like this, in the classroom, where a dozen other students were around and watching them. But alone. Preferably naked in his bed.

Having thoughts like this during his workday wasn’t normal. Even he had to admit it felt a little perverse. Usually, he was quite adept at compartmentalizing, rewarding himself for working hard with thoughts about Yeonjun and what he might be up to when he came home and put his work away. But Yeonjun sat right in front of him, and Soobin found it impossible to think about anything else. He craved him- his smile, his touch, everything.

The entire day, he endured as best as he could while simultaneously feeling suffocated. His hunger grew even worse when he left the room, forced to teach other classes while knowing Yeonjun was sitting just down the hall, giving his precious attention to people who weren’t him.

So, when classes finally concluded, Soobin barely had it in him to be discreet, calling out an offhand, “Yeonjun, come see me, please.” It wasn’t formal enough. He should have at least attached Yeonjun’s surname, but the thought slipped his mind. Some of the students gave Yeonjun strange looks, and Soobin pretended not to see, arranging the stack of quizzes on his desk. They may have finished their college entrance exams but they still had a week of in-class testing to look forward to.

Once the room was empty, Yeonjun approached him, although he seemed slightly cautious. “Is everything okay?”

Soobin glanced up, letting the honey tone of his voice wash over him. “Yes, everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? You’ve looked kind of on edge all day.” Yeonjun sounded genuinely concerned, and Soobin had no idea what to say. He didn’t think he was that easy to read.

“I missed you,” he finally settled on. A simple declaration, but not untrue.

Relief crossed Yeonjun’s face, and he offered him a playful smile. “I was sitting right there,” he said, pointing his thumb at the back row.

Frowning, Soobin replied, “I know that. It’s not the same.”

“You’re so cute.” Yeonjun looked delighted by the revelation, and tilted his head, saying, “You know, if you miss me so much, you could invite me over again.”

Soobin’s heart jumped- it was exactly what he wanted to hear. “I was afraid you would think it was too soon.”

“Cute,” Yeonjun repeated, as though he had just received some sort of confirmation on the subject. “I don’t think it’s too soon at all, considering we didn’t get to everything I wanted to do.”

Eyebrows arching, Soobin inquired, “And what exactly did you still have in mind?”

“Isn’t it more fun if it’s a surprise?”

“I don’t like surprises,” Soobin admitted, and Yeonjun laughed.

“Okay, fine. But I can’t talk about it here, so you’ll just have to guess.”

The pieces immediately clicked into place, most likely because Soobin’s mind was already on the same thing. “That kind of thing?” Yeonjun nodded, and he felt like he had to confirm more. “Are you sure?”

It sounded a bit odd, discussing it like this, but considering they were speaking quietly in the middle of his classroom, Soobin knew the importance of discretion outweighed his preference for straightforward discussion.

“I wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t. But if it’s too fast, then-”

“It’s not,” Soobin interrupted him, then realized he might have sounded too eager. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable,” he amended.

Yeonjun wore a pretty smile, full of mischief, and assured him sweetly, “I bought something last night that should help. Maybe I’ll send you a video sometime this week.”

Far too sweet. Deceptively so. That was the promise of a demon in disguise, and Soobin wondered how he, someone so hopelessly plain, attracted someone like Yeonjun in the first place.

“Give me a warning next time,” Soobin requested. “I made the mistake of opening one of your pictures here before.”

The image of it seemed to intrigue Yeonjun more than it should. He leaned forward, bracing one of his hands on the desk between them. If Soobin just stood up, it would be so easy to kiss him. “I bet you kind of liked it. You’re into stuff like that.”

Soobin narrowed his eyes- Yeonjun was really intent on observing far too much today. “I think it’s about time you went home, Yeonjun-ssi, it’s getting late.”

Yeonjun quickly protested, “Oh, come on, I was just kidding.”

Refusing to be swayed, Soobin said pleasantly, “Enjoy the rest of your evening. Don’t forget to study for the quiz we’ll be taking tomorrow on deviant plot structures, it’ll be the last one before your cumulative exam.”

“You’re so messed up for that,” Yeonjun informed him, but swung his bag over his shoulder. “Bye, teacher-nim, have a nice night.”

Admittedly, Yeonjun had a point. It was a little messed up, to go from discussing the possibility of having sex with Yeonjun to reminding him of his upcoming exam, especially considering the fact that Soobin would be the cause of all of his distractions. But it was fun, getting another opportunity to tease Yeonjun the way he so frequently teased him.

Besides, it wouldn’t feel so awkward to think about all the time if they discussed it once in a while. Talking about things was the only way to normalize them, after all. So, he thought of Yeonjun fondly after he left, and hoped it wouldn’t take him too long to text.

Thankfully, it came only two days later, when he was safely settled in at home for the night, curled up on his sofa watching a drama with his long legs tucked underneath him. His phone was on the arm of the couch, and nearly scared the shit out of Soobin when it started vibrating.

The hour was nearly midnight, but his heart skipped a beat when he saw who the message was from.

CYJ

hi

Me

Hey

CYJ

oh yay ur not asleep. and i’m assuming ur not at work rn either but u told me to warn u and so i am

Me

Your assumption is correct. What would I be doing at work in the middle of the night?

CYJ

idk it's none of my business

Soobin couldn’t help but chuckle to himself, and sit up straighter to text better.

Me

Fair enough. I still appreciate it, and consider myself warned

CYJ

good

CYJ

[image attached]

Curious, Soobin opened it right away, only to see what he’d come to recognize as Yeonjun’s bedroom floor. And laying in order of size on a plush cream carpet were a shocking -but also somewhat impressive- line-up of dildos, each in different colors but all of the same realistic shape.

Me

Did you order…all of these?

CYJ

i had the pink one already

The pink one was the smallest one on the far left end, maybe four or five inches in length. It was glassy, and had a heart at the base.

Me

Okay…and why exactly do you need so many?

It couldn’t have been a cheap purchase to make, let alone an easy one to hide from his mother.

CYJ

because u have a huge dick

CYJ

and u told me to work up to it

CYJ

so i’m working up to it

Before Soobin could even think of an intelligent response, another text came through.

CYJ

quick question where do u think u fall on the scale objectively

That was easier to come up with an answer to. It was a technical inquiry after all.

Me

Objectively? I’m somewhere between the red and the purple.

The last two on the end, and even Soobin felt intimidated looking at them. He wouldn’t want something of that size inside of his body.

CYJ

and u called me high maintenance…

Me

I’m sorry, it’s not really up to me.

It was a constant point of insecurity in his life whenever it came to relationships. Every guy wanted one until they were in his position, having to apologize to his sexual partners for simply being too big.

CYJ

don’t apologize for ur big dick it’s fine

CYJ

just give me some time because we’re at orange right now

Orange referred to the toy in the middle, which looked about seven inches if he were to estimate, with the next one up being blue before red and purple. It was already bigger than most of the guys Soobin knew. The image of Yeonjun fucking himself with the silicone toy, thinking about Soobin while he did it, had him readjusting in his seat. It was too little of a thing to let himself get turned on by his own imagination.

Me

Orange is very impressive.

CYJ

i’ll let u know when i get to blue <3

Blue was a dangerous color when it came to him.

Me

Is it wrong to say I’ll look forward to it?

CYJ

i’d be a little disappointed if u didn’t

Me

You really are too much for me

Yeonjun took longer to reply, and for a moment, Soobin feared he’d said something wrong. His suspicions were confirmed a few seconds later.

CYJ

in a good way…?

Maybe it was a criticism he heard often, and automatically took it to be a bad thing.

Me

In the best way

Once again, several minutes passed before Yeonjun texted him back, and Soobin almost thought he had gone to bed.

CYJ

i think you’re too much for me too sometimes

Me

In a good way?

CYJ

yeah i think so

Soobin didn’t receive the warm confirmation he was expecting. But maybe it was his fault for underestimating Yeonjun. It was perfectly reasonable for him to have doubts regarding their relationship. Oftentimes, Soobin wondered what drew Yeonjun to him in the first place, or why he even wanted him at all. What did he have that was so compelling, enough for Yeonjun to pursue this reckless and beautiful thing with him? The question rested on the tip of his tongue on occasions when they were together, but he could never ask it outright. It would sound too self-centered. In his own time, maybe Yeonjun would tell him.

Me

You can tell me, you know

Me

If you ever change your mind.

CYJ

i don’t think i will

CYJ

im sleepy now though

CYJ

goodnight hyung sweet dreams

Me

Sleep well

He spent a long time after that just sitting in front of the television with his show paused, thinking about what Yeonjun could have possibly meant. I don’t think I will. Didn’t think that he would change his mind? Or that he would tell Soobin if he did?

The two interpretations made a world of difference. This was why he hated texting. Tone became hard to grasp, intent sometimes even more so. He had no idea what Yeonjun might have meant, and it would torture him as he tried to sleep tonight.

───────✧❁✧───────

Two days later, Yeonjun texted him again late at night. This time, Soobin was reading in his bed, his phone plugged in beside him. He got his hopes up now whenever his phone vibrated, thinking it might be Yeonjun. More often than not, it was just a family member or friend.

But thankfully this time it was the person he wanted to hear from most. He slipped a bookmark between the pages and set his book aside.

CYJ

hyung

Me

Yes?

CYJ

are u alone

Me

Yes

CYJ

[video attached]

CYJ

practicing <3

For once, Soobin had an idea of what Yeonjun might have sent him, and removed his phone from the charger to sit upright. His suspicions were confirmed in the most pleasant of ways. Yeonjun had indeed worked his way up to the blue one, as he sent a video of himself seated on it, a folded towel under his knees to keep them from bruising. He had managed to set up the camera at such an angle where it only captured his back, arched and pretty, wearing an oversized white button-up. His cute little ass just barely peeked out underneath. Carefully, Yeonjun rocked his hips on the toy, showing just how deeply he could take it, lifting himself up before sinking back down. It was simultaneously adorable and erotic, and Soobin didn’t know how to feel watching the short clip of Yeonjun fucking himself like this.

He was conflicted- mostly because he felt his own skin flushing and his cock stir with interest, and this sort of thing felt more corrupt when Yeonjun wasn’t doing it with him. When they were in different places like this, the reality of it hit harder: Soobin had just received a video of an eighteen-year-old boy showing off how well he could take his cock.

And fuck, it turned him on. Everything Yeonjun did turned him on, to be entirely honest, but this leaned so heavily into taboo territory that he couldn’t but feel an added thrill. Even while he still had their conversation open on his phone, he tugged his sweatpants down and slipped his cock out, lazily stroking it with one hand while he typed a reply.

Me

You’re unfairly sexy

Unfair because it should be illegal. It was illegal, technically, for Soobin to say so.

CYJ

yeah? what do u think is sexy about me?

Me

Honestly? Everything

Me

You’re fucking stunning, and I love the way you talk, and even your constant attitude is hot

CYJ

i knew it. u like when i act like a brat

He wasn’t wrong. He really, really wasn’t. Soobin’s new favorite hobby over the past five months had become putting Yeonjun in his place when he stepped out of line. It was so satisfying.

CYJ

feel free to use the video for whatever u want <3

CYJ

just don’t show it to anyone else

Considering that Soobin was already sitting there with his cock out, he realized Yeonjun’s permission didn’t matter all that much to him, but he liked having it nonetheless.

Me

You don’t have to worry about that. I don’t want anyone else seeing you.

CYJ

that’s hot u should say things like that more often

Me

Maybe I will.

And then, before he could change his mind, he quickly sent out another text.

Me

Would you like to come over again this weekend?

CYJ

sure, should i bring extra clothes?

The implication didn’t fly over his head- Yeonjun was asking if he could stay the night.

Me

I think that would be a good idea. Just in case.

CYJ

mhm you’re not as subtle and mysterious as u think u are btw

CYJ

but i think its cute <3

Me

Goodnight.

CYJ

ㅋㅋsweet dreams

Never once did Soobin make it a point of being mysterious. Subtle, perhaps. But subtlety came with his personality, and the nature of what they were doing.

As soon as Yeonjun said goodnight, Soobin scrolled back up to the video and played it on loop, all while thinking about just how jealous he suddenly was of a silicone dick. He knew it didn’t count- he would still be the first person to fuck him, but it was different than taking a girl’s virginity.

No one else would ever really know besides Yeonjun unless he told them. And he liked that they were collecting secrets like that. They felt more special that way.

Jerking off to the sight of his pretty arched back and stretched pink rim, Soobin wished he could see Yeonjun’s face. The angle of the camera kept him in suspense, making him even more desperate to have Yeonjun for himself. It would be satisfying to fuck him from behind. His hair always felt so soft, and Soobin would enjoy gathering it in his fingers, forcing his head down into the pillows while he held onto his waist with the other hand, fucking roughly into him.

Now, he could imagine the sounds Yeonjun would make. His voice didn’t go as high as Soobin had first thought in his fantasies, but instead, Yeonjun had this sultry, drawn-out whine that only got louder with time. The more stimulated he was, the more broken and teary-eyed he became, and Soobin liked the sight of his tears more than he should. Maybe it was because Yeonjun always acted so tough and untouchable, especially in class. None of his classmates would be able to predict that he became a desperate crying mess in bed.

Strings of pre-cum trailed down his cock, and Soobin smeared them over the head, trying to get it as wet as he could without lube. He could just open the drawer in his bedside table and retrieve the bottle, but he would have to put his phone down, and would rather just make do with his own spit. In the video, he could see the shiny residue of lube trickling over the toy and down Yeonjun’s thighs, more spilling out of him every time he lifted his hips up. Yeonjun must like it really wet, must like how messy he got, and how easily the dildo slid in and out of him.

Soobin would remember that for when he fucked him. He wanted everything to be perfect, that way Yeonjun would never want to look for anyone else.

Without warning, Soobin suddenly came to the thought of being Yeonjun’s first and only, a ridiculously sentimental thing bringing him to orgasm. Cum splattered on his phone screen, over the image of Yeonjun’s back and ass, and even though an unexpected cum tribute was gross, he also thought it was a little fitting. Yeonjun told him he could do anything he wanted with it, after all.

He would just have to clean up really well. And ensure he never came to something so absurdly romantic ever again.

───────✧❁✧───────

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Yeonjun said immediately when Soobin opened his apartment door, and once again, his cheeks were flushed, both from exertion and from the cold. “My train got delayed.”

Soobin quickly let him inside, gaze trailing after his back. He was dressed in a cold-shoulder black sweater, loose jeans, and white boots. His satin track jacket most likely did nothing to protect him from the winter weather, and he hung it up as soon as he got in the door. “That’s okay. I’m glad that was the only issue. I was getting a little worried.” Following him, Soobin asked, “Have you eaten?” He was prepared to order food for Yeonjun if the answer was no, but he nodded.

“Yeah, not too long ago.”

The air felt tense somehow, as though they were both waiting for something to happen.

“Do you want to watch a movie?” Yeonjun inquired, glancing at his television.

“I thought you said they made for shitty dates.”

Yeonjun smiled. “Going out to movies makes for shitty dates,” he corrected him. “Staying in and watching movies is the best.”

And so, they settled in on the couch. Soobin let Yeonjun pick something out on Netflix while he grabbed more blankets from the hall closet. Yeonjun picked an action movie, something Soobin probably would have never seen for himself. When he was younger, he enjoyed action movies a lot, but found that as he aged, sentimental films like dramas and romances left a bigger impact on him.

Then again, maybe it was better that Yeonjun chose a movie that he wouldn’t have cared about in the first place, because within the first fifteen minutes, he completely lost his focus. Soobin laid between Yeonjun and the back of the sofa, drawing him close with an arm around his waist and tucking his chin over his shoulder. At the start, the position was warm and pleasant, and he could hear the faint, soft sound of Yeonjun’s breathing. However, being this close to him for such a long period of time quickly became an issue. His own breathing grew uneven, and his heart was racing for no reason. Even his hands felt as though they were anticipating something, constantly readjusting how he held Yeonjun as if finding the right position would solve all of his problems.

This went on for maybe half an hour, until Yeonjun finally rolled over, gazing at him. “The movie’s kinda boring,” he said softly.

“Mhm,” Soobin agreed. He didn’t remember a single thing that had happened on screen. He couldn’t even think of the protagonist’s name.

“Wanna do something else?”

Soobin nodded, searching his eyes to see if he could predict what Yeonjun would say, but was pleasantly surprised when he just kissed him instead. This kiss came with no preamble or hesitation. It was deep and consuming, Yeonjun’s tongue easily slipping into his mouth, and his hand coming up to cup the back of Soobin’s head. This sort of touch felt unfamiliar- no one else had ever touched him like this before, the way Yeonjun was leading him in the direction he wanted to go. Soobin didn’t know how to feel about it, so he shifted his weight, hovering over Yeonjun instead. This was more natural to him, and he leaned down to slot their lips together again, bracing one hand on Yeonjun’s hip and the other by his head, pinning him in place.

When Yeonjun lifted his hips, grinding his erection against Soobin’s own, it felt incredible, and he encouraged him to do it again, slipping his hand under Yeonjun’s ass to press him more tightly against his body. Without Soobin even having to ask, Yeonjun broke their kiss just long enough to sit upright and tug his shirt off over his head.

The sight of his pretty tan skin ignited something in him, and he had to touch. He slid his hands up Yeonjun’s back, brushing his fingertips over the delicate curve of his spine, and placed a wet, open-mouthed kiss against his shoulder, pleased when he felt Yeonjun shaking a little beneath his touch.

Distantly, Soobin registered Yeonjun’s fingers on the buttons of his shirt, but was too invested in leaving light pink marks all over his throat and collarbones to think of helping. Eventually, Yeonjun managed to slip Soobin’s shirt off of him, discarding it over behind the couch with his own.

Soobin’s hands wandered back down to cup Yeonjun’s ass, and he lifted him more onto his lap. As soon as Yeonjun felt Soobin underneath him, he rocked his hips, and the friction against his cock sent a thrill of arousal down through his body. He needed to feel more. So, he gripped Yeonjun’s waist to hold him in place and thrust up against him, wishing he could feel his cock against his ass without all the layers of clothes between them.

Maybe Yeonjun was thinking the same thing, because he popped the button of his jeans and lifted his body to slide them off his legs. Soobin helped him get them all the way off, and let Yeonjun help him get his own off as well, barely tossing them aside before Yeonjun’s warm palm was on his cock, stroking along his length through his boxers. Soobin tried not to grind too eagerly against him, instead slipping his own hands past the waistband of Yeonjun’s boxers and gripping his ass firmly, squeezing maybe a little harder than he meant to.

Yeonjun let out a breathy moan, which grew louder when Soobin pressed a tentative finger to his entrance. Strangely enough, Yeonjun felt a little wet already.

“Was your train really delayed?” Soobin’s voice came out rough and low.

“No,” Yeonjun admitted. “I got caught up practicing and lost track of time.”

“Practicing?”

“You know…” Yeonjun’s eyes glimmered playfully in the semi-darkness. “I had to make sure I could at least take the red one.”

“Is that why you came here tonight?” Soobin matched his teasing, although his came with an edge of meanness that had Yeonjun enthralled. “Just to get fucked?”

“Not just for that. But it would be an added bonus.”

Soobin really wished he could slip his cock into Yeonjun right there and let him ride him on the couch, but knew it wasn’t realistic.

“Please, hyung,” Yeonjun added, bracing his hands against Soobin’s shoulders and asking cutely. “I really want it.”

It was all Soobin really wanted too, and so he agreed softly, “Okay. Let’s go to my room, though.” Yeonjun nodded, and let Soobin pull him to his feet, leaving their discarded clothes to be picked up later.

Once he had Yeonjun in his bed, they kissed for a while, messy and hot with no real sense of time. But some of Yeonjun’s bravado began to fade, confidence replaced by nervous touches and quiet whimpers. Soobin gently bit his lip once before pulling away just enough to gaze at him.

Yeonjun’s eyes were bright and scared, so big that Soobin was driven to simply press their forwards together, then his lips to his cheek and ask, “Are you okay?”

After a beat, Yeonjun whispered, “I’m scared it’ll hurt.”

Not willing to lie to him just to get what he craved, Soobin replied honestly, “I think it does hurt a little the first time.”

“For normal people,” Yeonjun breathed, bracing his hands on Soobin’s chest. “But…you’re big…”

For some reason, he felt responsible, even though it wasn’t really within his control. They had talked about it before, but now that it was a reality, he understood why Yeonjun would be afraid. “We can stop here,” Soobin murmured, bringing one of Yeonjun’s hands up to his lips, pressing a kiss to his skin before holding it tightly. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with, Yeonjun-ah.”

“But I want to,” Yeonjun said, lacing their fingers together and bringing their hands down so Soobin covered him even more. “I want you. I’m just nervous.”

Yeonjun lay beautifully vulnerable beneath him, and Soobin knew just how much he was trusting him with. “I’ll be so gentle,” he promised, nosing his hair. “I’ll take care of you.” Soobin kissed just below his eye, and Yeonjun shut them, breathing slowly. “I’ll go slow.” He kissed his lips this time, slipping his tongue into Yeonjun’s receptive mouth, before breaking the kiss to trail lower. “As slow as you want.” He kissed along his jaw, then down his neck, sucking lazy red marks into his skin. “Just tell me what feels good.”

“That,” Yeonjun answered shakily, fingers curling in Soobin’s hair. “That feels good.”

He took his time, then, lavishing the golden canvas of his body with delicate love bites, simply wanting Yeonjun to feel at ease. They had all the time in the world; the last thing Soobin wanted was to give him a bad first experience. He’d never be able to forgive himself.

“Is here okay?” he asked, brushing a thumb over Yeonjun’s already-hard nipple. As soon as he touched him, Yeonjun’s back arched and he nodded fervently. “Words are good, Yeonjun-ah.”

He needed Yeonjun to be vocal, telling him exactly where his boundaries were. It kept Soobin in line.

“Y-yes,” Yeonjun managed to say. “There.”

Soobin pressed his thumb to Yeonjun’s lips then, watched in hazy satisfaction as Yeonjun licked over it, then let out the prettiest noises when he used it to continue teasing him. Slowly, he let his hands trail down Yeonjun’s sides, and followed down his chest, then stomach, with his mouth.

The marks were light- they wouldn’t last. And that was okay. They didn’t need to.

When Soobin hesitated, Yeonjun made the decision for him, sitting up enough to slip his own boxers down before kicking them off completely. Then, he pulled Soobin close, hooking his fingers in his briefs. “Can I?” he asked softly.

He nodded, and helped Yeonjun work them down before tossing them over the side. Yeonjun ducked his head, kissing the tip of Soobin’s cock once before trailing up his stomach, and he had to resist the temptation to grip him by the hair and push his head back down.

“Can you…can you talk while you do it?” Yeonjun whispered. He needed reassurance and tenderness. Neither were necessarily on Soobin’s mind but he had to remember that this wasn’t just about him.

He kissed Yeonjun’s forehead. “Of course. What would you like me to talk about?” As he spoke, he lowered Yeonjun back against the pillows, kneeling between his legs once more.

“Tell me when you knew. That you wanted me, I mean.”

It was so obvious how badly Yeonjun wanted it to be romantic, and if it would make him happy, Soobin would surrender. “I told you. As soon as I saw you.”

His fingers were wet, and he didn’t waste time before easing the first one into Yeonjun, knowing he could take it easily. And he did, opening up to him for one, and then two, low whines escaping his mouth whenever Soobin hit a certain spot.

“Did you think I was pretty?”

Yeonjun had his eyes shut- more than likely, it embarrassed him to watch Soobin do it, and so he just felt the sensations instead, trusting Soobin to be gentle.

He pressed his ring finger to Yeonjun’s already stretched rim, felt his cock twitch as he pushed it in alongside the others, and murmured, “Of course I did. The prettiest I’d ever seen. Not as pretty as you are now, though.”

Yeonjun twisted the sheets in his hand and whimpered as Soobin fucked into him with all three. “Y-you really think I’m pretty like this?”

“I think you’re prettier every time I see you,” he answered honestly, only realizing a few moments later that maybe it was too much of a romantic thing to say. He didn’t want to sound sentimental. It wouldn’t do either of them any good in the long run.

But Yeonjun seemed to like it, slowly becoming less tense, not clenching so tightly around him whenever he moved his fingers.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun said breathlessly, and Soobin glanced up, only to see him looking at him with flushed cheeks and shining eyes. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

Yeonjun was so innocent and sweet, and Soobin wanted to fuck him so badly, it made him feel like a sinner. The two points should be at odds; Yeonjun’s naivety, the kindness that came with being young, shouldn’t make his cock stand up straighter, pre-cum beading at the tip and dotting his stomach. But it did, and he increased the pace at which he was fingering him, making Yeonjun writhe away from his touch, only to roll his hips down to fuck them into himself.

“H-hyung, hyung please, you can fuck me, I’m ready, I want you to-” Yeonjun babbled his permission and it was all Soobin wanted to hear, figuring he had waited long enough.

If Yeonjun said he was ready, then he was. Soobin had to trust him.

He eased his fingers out of him and quickly grabbed one of Yeonjun’s condoms off the nightstand, ripping it open before rolling it over his length. Remembering what Yeonjun said, and the way lube had leaked out all down his thighs in that clip he sent, Soobin drizzled even more lube over his hands, working it over his cock to make sure it would be slick enough to fit into Yeonjun as painlessly as possible.

And so, he lifted Yeonjun’s slender legs, guided them over his shoulders to align himself better. “You’re sure?” he asked, voice rough. It was a courtesy, something to do to make himself feel more morally aligned as well, and Yeonjun nodded.

“Please, hyung.”

The flared tip of his cock was far bigger than his fingers, red against Yeonjun’s pink little hole, but his practice seemed to pay off as Soobin was able to ease into him with little resistance at first. Even with the overly generous amount of lube, he was so fucking tight, and Soobin wasn’t even halfway in.

Yeonjun moaned, long and drawn out, and lifted his hips higher to get more. “A-ah, hyung it’s-”

“Is it too much?” he immediately asked, not wanting to hurt him even as his cock throbbed at the unsteady pitch of his voice.

Shaking his head, hair fanned out across the pillow, Yeonjun gasped, “No, it’s so good, m-more.” Even though he begged for more, his body didn’t seem as compliant, clenching tight around him whenever he tried to move. So, he drew his cock out until just the very tip pressed into him, opening him up until his ass was essentially begging for it too, then fucked in a little rougher, and Yeonjun was able to take half of his length like that.

Soobin continued to pull out and thrust back into him, Yeonjun taking his cock inch by inch, until he was almost buried to the hilt. It took an incredible amount of patience, but the sensation of having Yeonjun’s tight little ass wrapped around his cock was worth it. Never in his life had he been able to fit the entire length of it into a girl’s pussy, always settling for halfway, and his pretty eighteen year old virgin managed to do it on his first try. It was a bit of a perverted thought, but it was true, and it brought him a strange sense of satisfaction and pride.

Desperate little whimpers slipped past Yeonjun’s lips every few seconds, and Soobin had no idea if they were from pain or pleasure. It didn’t seem like Yeonjun could tell either, touching his nipples and his own cock with wet fingers to add stimulation.

“You can tell me if it hurts,” Soobin said through gritted teeth, resisting the urge to just give up all pretense of tenderness and fuck Yeonjun into the mattress.

“Hurts,” Yeonjun agreed, voice trembling.

Suspecting that he was hurting him and knowing it were two completely different things. Soobin slowly eased out of him again, leaving only half his cock inside, and shallowly thrust back in. He was more gentle; he had been too desperate at first, and it came at Yeonjun’s expense, and so he remembered to have patience.

It still felt divine. Tighter than any hole he’d ever fucked before, even toys that he had purchased for himself when he realized sleeping with women wasn’t ever going to satisfy him.

Yeonjun felt perfect. It was cliche, and once again overly sentimental, but for just a brief second Soobin liked to fantasize that Yeonjun was made for him. Eventually, he would be able to take his cock with ease, his body molding to it with time, and he would be able to make Yeonjun feel so good. It wasn’t impossible; they just had to stay together long enough to make it a reality. Even now, Yeonjun was quickly adjusting, a breathy, broken little sound escaping him when the tip of Soobin’s cock nudged against his prostate. Definitely more pleasure than pain that time. His cock twitched inside Yeonjun, wanting to hear more.

“A-ah, that’s better,” Yeonjun whined, drawing Soobin closer, and therefore deeper into him, by clutching at his shoulders. “You can go a little faster.”

So he did, just waiting for permission, fucking Yeonjun fast enough for the sound of his hips meeting Yeonjun’s ass to be audible in the room. He gripped Yeonjun by his small waist, pulling him down onto his cock, and it tore the prettiest cry from Yeonjun’s throat. His nails dug into Soobin’s shoulders, back arching off the bed, and Soobin couldn’t take it anymore.

His thrusts became faster, harsher, and Yeonjun shut his eyes, whining with every hit to his prostate. He sounded so much hotter than Soobin had imagined when he spent too many nights jerking off to the sight of him. This was better than anything else. It was what he’d desired from the start, and now he could shed his restraint and indulge in the part of himself that just wanted to see Yeonjun fucked out and ruined by his hand. Or his cock, in this case.

“Hyung, hyung- t-touch me, I’m gonna-”

Soobin slowed his pace, rolling his hips into Yeonjun and wrapping a hand around his flushed weeping cock. “Are you going to cum?” He gave it a few tentative strokes, lube and pre-cum slick on his hand, and Yeonjun cried out.

“P-please, fuck me, I want you to fuck me.”

His begging sounded so dirty and desperate, exactly how Soobin wanted him, and it triggered that harsh, restrained part of himself. He stopped touching Yeonjun and instead grabbed him roughly by the hips. “Harder? Is that what you’re saying?” Yeonjun nodded, whimpering from the low tone of his voice. The tears in his eyes looked like little priceless jewels. “Ask for it then.”

“H-harder, hyung,” Yeonjun whispered, digging his fingers deeper into Soobin’s shoulders. There would be red crescent moons left there for days afterwards. “Fuck me harder.”

God, he really had drawn out his own suffering for too long. Yeonjun would have let him have this the day they met. Soobin still would have turned him down, even in retrospect. Seventeen was an age he couldn’t defend. But eighteen…if it was good enough for the law, it was good enough for him. Whatever it took to have Yeonjun here with him now.

He pulled Yeonjun down onto his cock, thrusting up into him as he did so, and fucked him until he couldn’t speak. His own reservations abandoned him; hearing Yeonjun beg for it changed everything. Yeonjun’s desperate pleading and whines of hyung, hyung disappeared completely, replaced by high-pitched whimpers and needy gasps for air. Soobin let Yeonjun hold his own legs up, consumed by the sight of him spreading himself open like a slut, and when Yeonjun came with a moan and cum splattering all over both of their stomachs, he grabbed his face and kissed him roughly.

When he felt his own orgasm tear through him, he buried himself as deep into Yeonjun as he could, feeling the hot sticky sensation of his cum filling the condom.

Tears still shone on Yeonjun’s cheeks, and completely overwhelmed, he kissed Soobin frantically, both of them panting into each other’s mouths. He stayed inside of Yeonjun for a while, enjoying the comfortable heat until he started going soft, and carefully pulled out of him to clean up.

Yeonjun went limp when Soobin let him go, exhausted as he was, and didn’t make a sound besides the soft murmur of his breathing until Soobin returned with a warm cloth. He looked beautiful, stretched out there among his disheveled blankets, with his messy hair and the sleepy, fucked-out look on his face.

“Are you okay?” Soobin asked gently, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Yeonjun hummed, blinking his eyes open to look up at him. “Mhm, good. Really good. You?”

“Really good,” he agreed, even as tiredness crept into his voice and he knew there was probably still a sheen of sweat on his forehead. Yeonjun rolled back over onto his back, letting Soobin clean the cum off his stomach before bringing the cloth down over his cock, between his legs. When Yeonjun lifted them, Soobin noticed there was a bit of blood around his rim along with the lube, and took extra care to be gentle. “I’m sorry. I know it hurts.”

“Worth it,” Yeonjun mumbled, a satisfied little smile on his face.

“You’re so damn cute,” Soobin sighed, and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“You just had your dick in me. Tell me I’m sexy.”

He stood to throw the cloth in his laundry basket, saying, “I already told you earlier. It doesn’t sound genuine if I say the same thing twice.” When he glanced back, he saw Yeonjun curled up on his side, glaring at him. After a few months of knowing him, Soobin finally realized Yeonjun only gave him that look when he told him no, and it made him smile. “You’re very sexy.”

“I knew you were smart.” Yeonjun let out a content little sigh, and shut his eyes, murmuring, “Come lay down with me, I’m tired.”

“You don’t want to shower?” he asked, even as he rejoined him on the bed, stroking Yeonjun’s hair away from his forehead. It was damp with sweat, but strangely, Soobin didn’t mind.

“Tired,” he repeated.

Soobin was tempted to just let him be, but he knew Yeonjun would regret his choice in the morning, so he said, “You don’t want to sleep like that, come on, I’ll help you.”

Yeonjun groaned, but let Soobin tug him to his feet and guide him to the bathroom. He noticed him limping, and made a mental note to research ways to ease his soreness for next time.

They showered together, warm and relaxing, with Yeonjun leaning back against his chest and mumbling drowsy sentiments that got swept away with the cascading water. Soobin made sure to be gentle with him, washing him with careful hands and soft praise, and when they were dry and back in bed, he felt a level of peace and content that he’d never experienced before in his life. And certainly not after sex.

It was always a point of anxiety for him; having sex with a woman was like a daunting task he didn’t think he was capable of completing. And if he managed to, he had no idea what to say or do afterwards. Most of the time, he just wanted to leave.

But, even though he had gone to several lengths to avoid this feeling, sleeping with Yeonjun left him with a romantic afterglow, and made Soobin want to make sure he felt taken care of afterwards.

“Hyung?” Yeonjun murmured sleepily, voice drifting from where he lay curled up against Soobin’s chest.

“Yeah?” His voice rumbled through the darkness, soft and raspy.

“I’m a little nervous about something.”

His heart beat faster, but it was too early to feel anxious. So, he ran his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair and asked, “What about? You can tell me.”

“What if you think it’s stupid?”

Nothing Yeonjun said would ever sound stupid to him. “I won’t.”

Yeonjun lifted his chin, propping himself up on his elbows to look at him. “Okay, but what if you do?”

Soobin entertained the thought. “Okay, what if I do…” he mused. “Then I’ll tell you. Not to invalidate your fear, but to soothe it. Then we can both laugh.”

Yeonjun sighed, and Soobin thought he might be a little annoyed with him for not taking him seriously enough, so he wrapped an arm around Yeonjun’s thin waist and rolled him onto his back so he could look him in the eyes.

“You look like you’re about to eat me, not give me advice,” Yeonjun said plainly, although he let Soobin cage him in, close enough so he could feel the heat of his body. The drowsiness had almost entirely disappeared from his voice.

“As much as I would like to-” and he really wouldn’t be opposed to going again if only either of them had the energy “-I can tell that this is bothering you, and now I have to hear it.”

Yeonjun’s gaze locked on his own for a moment, searching for something, before he looped his arms around Soobin’s neck and tugged him down into a hurried kiss. Yeonjun’s mouth on his own was never an unwelcome thing, so Soobin gave in easily, more than willing to leave his mark on those sultry red lips once again. It was messy and desperate, as if Yeonjun was trying to convey his fears through touch, licking into Soobin’s mouth and curling his fingers tightly in the black hair at the base of his neck. Almost as if he were afraid of letting go.

“Tell me,” Soobin murmured against his lips.

Breaking their kiss, Yeonjun still kept his fingers in his hair, confessing “I don’t want you to be upset.”

Oddly enough, Soobin doubted Yeonjun could upset him easily. Unless he lied about something. That would be the hardest thing to forgive. “I won’t be.” Concerned even more now, he pulled away to give him space, and Yeonjun rested his head on his own arm to look at him better.

Finally, he gave in, admitting in a rush, “It’s just that I really like you, and I know you’re only looking for something casual, and I’ve made you do a lot for me even though you probably didn’t want to because you feel like you owe me or something. But I want you to know that you don’t owe me anything, and I’m okay if this is all you wanted.”

Stunned, Soobin didn’t know what to say.

By all accounts, Yeonjun was technically right. He had gone into this reckless relationship with Yeonjun because he wanted to sleep with him. That was it. He had no intentions of taking him out or developing feelings for him because it would be entirely too dangerous, and when he started this, he was still convinced that it would be wrong for him to have a romantic relationship with a man. Sex was different. It was justifiable. A one off thing, and it never had to happen again.

But now that he was here, several months later, things had changed. Yeonjun had changed him. He brought out sides of Soobin that he himself never knew existed before, and showed him that it was okay to experience life without fear. But Yeonjun had no idea that he had changed Soobin so much because Soobin didn’t know how to tell him without feeling ashamed. At this moment, Yeonjun still believed that he was reserved and afraid, and would let Soobin leave him like that if he wanted to. A man so stricken by his own internalized homophobic guilt that he led Yeonjun on back and forth for months, and even tried to rationalize his poor treatment of Yeonjun by blaming him for being different and unashamed. As if he had brought it on himself. And now, Yeonjun was willing to let him go, even after he had given Soobin his innocence and the closest thing to a real relationship that Soobin had ever experienced. Just because he thought that Soobin didn’t care about him as more than a risky hookup.

“I wanted to,” Soobin said quietly.

“What?”

“I wanted to take you out, and talk about your life, and read all of your random texts. I still want to. If you’ll let me, of course.”

Yeonjun’s eyes were wide and shining in the darkness. “You mean…more often?”

Soobin smiled, and tucked Yeonjun’s hair behind his ear. “Yeah. More often.” Then, quietly, he added, “I like you, too. And I’m sorry if I’ve done a bad job of showing it.”

Gently, Yeonjun grabbed his hand and pressed a small kiss to his thumb. “You’ve been really nice to me. Thank you.”

“You shouldn’t ever have to thank someone for being nice,” Soobin sighed, and wrapped his arms around Yeonjun, pulling him closer. “Especially not me, okay?”

Yeonjun tucked his nose into Soobin’s shoulder and shut his eyes. “Okay, hyung.”

“Get some sleep,” he said softly. “I’ll make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Breakfast,” Yeonjun mumbled happily.

As he drifted off to sleep, Soobin felt lighter somehow, as though a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. More than anything, he wanted to feel like this forever.

───────✧❁✧───────

The late afternoon sun cut through the skylight panels, dappling the mall’s atrium in the soft light of golden hour. People crowded the halls, laughing and pointing and creating the pleasant atmosphere of white noise that Soobin loved so much. He leaned against a marble pillar, tapping away on his phone as he waited.

Occasionally, he looked up to check the entrance, seeing over the heads of the crowd, but he was early so he wasn’t too concerned.

After ten minutes passed, he checked the entrance again only to see a familiar figure walking towards him. Yeonjun wore a simple white t-shirt tucked into black jeans, paired with a black denim jacket and platform sneakers. His hair looked like it was styled differently, fluffier and more textured than usual. He clung to a small bag strapped across his body, and his face lit up with a smile when he spotted Soobin.

“Found you,” Yeonjun said happily.

Soobin pocketed his phone and returned his smile. “There you are. I was just about to text and make sure you were okay.”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it was for me to get out of the house. I think I spent more minutes arguing than I actually did on the train.”

Soobin frowned. “Is your mom giving you trouble again?”

Shrugging, Yeonjun said, “She just doesn’t trust me. It is what it is, honestly, nothing I do is going to change her mind.”

Technically, she was right not to, considering Yeonjun was lying to her every time he left, and going out to meet a man nearly twice his age. But from his own perspective, Soobin struggled to side with her. After all, he was the one asking Yeonjun to deceive her.

Sympathetic, he rubbed Yeonjun’s shoulder. “I’m sorry for making you come all this way.”

“It’s no problem. Why exactly did you want to meet here, though?” Yeonjun asked, tucking his hair behind his ear. He didn’t seem uncomfortable, more curious than anything else.

Soobin glanced around the mall’s glass atrium, completely on the far side of the city from anywhere else they usually went, bustling with people all minding their own business, and felt his own worries ease. “I like taking you places, but I’m usually too worried about people recognizing us,” he answered honestly. “Besides,” he looked back at Yeonjun and smiled. “You talked about clothes and fashion a lot when we last went out. I thought maybe you might like shopping…?”

Yeonjun stared at him.

“Or, if not, I’m sure we can find something to do,” Soobin hurried to say, wondering if he’d gotten it wrong. “There’s a lot of other-”

“I love shopping.” Yeonjun’s eyes were wide, and he seemed strangely touched.

Soobin breathed a sigh of relief. “Oh. That’s good, then. Here.” He offered his hand to Yeonjun. “Why don’t you lead the way?”

Yeonjun eagerly took his hand, lacing their fingers together and gently pulling him forward.

The first store he tugged him into was dark and modern, a place Soobin had never been, although that really wasn’t too surprising, and Yeonjun looked like he knew his way around. He fit right in with the young, sleek crowd, slipping hangers off racks to hold them up to his body, making comments about colors and cuts and things Soobin didn’t really understand, but enjoyed hearing him talk about.

A few times, Yeonjun would hold something up for a while, examining his own reflection with the hanger before turning to Soobin and asking, “What do you think?”

For his part, Soobin genuinely believed there wasn’t an outfit in the world Yeonjun couldn’t pull off. He looked fantastic in everything. For that reason, Soobin didn’t think he was much help, but he offered opinions as best as he could.

“I like the buttons on that one,” he commented about a black cardigan Yeonjun had been debating over. The sleeves rolled back and buttoned, and the front could only be done halfway up. It was a nice modern take on a classic.

“Good.” Yeonjun quickly turned and held the cardigan up against Soobin’s chest. “I thought the buttons were cute, too. You’ll look good in it.”

“Wait, what?”

Yeonjun caught sight of Soobin’s frown in the mirror and laughed. “I hope you didn’t think I was just shopping for myself this whole time. I’ve got a ton of stuff I want you to try on.”

Growing more and more concerned, Soobin asked, “Why would you want me to do that?”

“Because you’ve got a very attractive body that you don’t show off nearly enough,” he hummed, as if it were the plainest thing in the world. “You could be a model, hyung, you’re sexy.”

“Yeonjun,” he scolded, feeling his ears turn pink. “You can’t say things like that.”

“Sure I can,” Yeonjun countered, already wandering down another aisle of heavy black coats. He found a long one with lots of belts and buckles, and held it up against his own body. “Mm, cute, but we’re just getting out of winter. I hate buying things out of season.”

Soobin liked listening to him talk about clothes, so he followed him around, offering to carry his finds for him. He found out very quickly that Yeonjun was a thorough shopper. He checked out every corner of a store, explored sales racks, found unconventional pieces and tried to pair them with other things to make an outfit that could pass as everyday wear. More than once, Soobin saw him glance at the women’s section, like he was looking for something specific and knew he could find it over there, but felt embarrassed about shopping in that part of the store.

“What are you looking for?” he finally asked, when Yeonjun made another dissatisfied face after sifting through an arrangement of long-sleeved shirts.

“Something with sleeves,” he muttered.

Thoroughly perplexed, Soobin glanced at the rack they had just been through. “All of those shirts had sleeves.”

“No, like-” Yeonjun sighed, gesturing a vague shape with his hands. “Like wide lace or mesh sleeves. Think classy bohemian. Preferably black. Flared at the wrists. That sort of thing.”

Most of those adjectives went over Soobin’s head, but he tried to be understanding. “I don’t think they have anything like that here.”

“I know,” Yeonjun agreed, sounding quite annoyed about it.

“They might over there.” Soobin was finally the one to say it, pointing over to the women’s blouse section. And Yeonjun shot him a look, as if he didn’t think Soobin would ever propose such a thing.

“You don’t think it would be weird if I checked?”

And eventually it dawned on him. Yeonjun wasn’t exploring the women’s section because he thought it was odd. He was avoiding it because he thought it would make Soobin uncomfortable.

“No, I don’t think so,” he said simply. He wouldn’t do it himself, but if Yeonjun wanted to, then of course he wouldn’t say they shouldn’t.

“I’ll just be a second,” Yeonjun decided, quickly crossing the store and Soobin followed after him even though he knew Yeonjun meant to leave him behind. A few of the women shopping over there gave them looks, but nothing rude or out of place. Just curious.

It only took a few seconds for Yeonjun to pull a tight black lace shirt from a rack, a pleased smile on his face as soon as he saw the sleeves, which Soobin guessed matched exactly what he had been describing.

Soobin took the shirt from him, layering it over his arm and asking, “What do you want it for, anyway?”

Yeonjun leaned over to slip another one of his finds out of the pile, a distressed white tank top with red English writing that he’d found in the men’s clearance section. “To go under this. With black jeans and boots.”

He could sort of visualize it, and agreed that Yeonjun would look stunning. “I see. Do you want to look around here some more?”

“No,” Yeonjun decided. “I wanna try stuff on. And see you try stuff on.”

They spent a while in the dressing room, Yeonjun wanting to model every outfit he put together, and him practically forcing Soobin to do the same. Even when he put on the clothes himself, Yeonjun would adjust, rearrange, and tuck until he was satisfied.

The clothes he chose were pretty, and surprisingly suitable to what Soobin liked. Nothing flashy or over the top. Clean-cut and sensible, clothes that fit his age and lifestyle, but weren’t necessarily things he would pick out for himself.

In the mirror, wearing that black cardigan tucked into dark dress pants and sophisticated leather loafers, he saw a different version of himself. Maybe closer to what Yeonjun saw when he looked at him. The clothes and even the colors made Soobin appear sexy and confident, mature but not out of touch. Typically, he wore a lot of cream, blue, and brown. Soft tones that he thought suited him. But Yeonjun had brought out someone else entirely, and he liked the way it looked.

“You’re very good at this,” he eventually said, tilting his head to look at himself in the mirror.

Yeonjun’s smile was small, shy, and beautiful. Different from the smiles he gave anyone else. Just for Soobin. “You’re fun to style.”

His face in the mirror looked more handsome than he remembered, and he cocked his head to the other side, trying to see if it was the angle. “I didn’t know you had such a passion for it.”

He was glad no one else was in the room. Their conversation would sound strange to someone listening in.

Yeonjun shrugged. “I don’t have enough time to study design properly, but it would be cool if I did. I like it, I like all the planning and getting to see the finished product come together and make someone happy.”

Occasionally, Soobin became swept up in how complex Yeonjun could be. He was made up of simple desires and complicated reflections, and the two tangled in ways that were unfamiliar to Soobin prior to meeting him. Yeonjun wanted to make everyone in the world happy, but somehow refused to do anything that might satisfy his own happiness as well.

“Maybe you should consider it,” Soobin finally said, and when Yeonjun fell at a loss for words, he changed the subject. “Was there anything else you wanted to see here?”

“Nope, I think we’re good. You’re hot. I’m hot. Mission accomplished.”

He laughed, and ducked back behind the curtain. “Glad to hear it.”

When they walked out and towards the counter, Soobin pulled the stack of clothes from Yeonjun’s arms. “I’ll get these.”

“Hyung, I can-“

“I know you can,” Soobin interrupted him. “But I’d like to take care of it, if you’d let me.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You really don’t have to.”

“That’s not what I was asking.”

He seemed to undergo some sort of internal conflict, but maybe Soobin looked more firm than usual, because Yeonjun gave in without too much of a fight. “If you really want to…”

Soobin smiled. “I do. Why don’t you go wait for me outside?”

Confused, but still obedient, Yeonjun nodded and headed for the entrance, shooting Soobin one last curious glance over his shoulder before leaving.

He did it to make things easier at checkout. Soobin looked too old to be his brother or cousin, or even a nice hyung just taking him around for the day. And Yeonjun looked too old to be out with an uncle, which Soobin didn’t want to try to pass off anyway. Their age difference fell into an awkward space- fifteen years was hard to explain.

Besides, he liked buying things for Yeonjun. Of course he knew Yeonjun could afford it. That wasn’t the matter at hand. Being single most of his life, older, and financially comfortable, Soobin could easily afford it as well. In fact, the issue didn’t come down to money at all. Once again, he just wanted an opportunity to do something for him. They rarely came up, and even when they did, Yeonjun always protested any kind of special treatment.

And so, he approached the store clerk with a smile on his face, quite content.

An hour later, they sat together in the food court. They had gone through a couple more stores, Yeonjun on the hunt for accessory pieces and Soobin following behind closely, listening to the little things he got excited over. When they emerged from the fourth store, Yeonjun mentioned something about being thirsty, so he got a coffee and Soobin found a place that sold bubble tea, and they sat down to rest.

They had been talking about small, mindless things, just passing time, until a brief period of quiet caught up to them.

“I don’t want things from you, you know,” Yeonjun suddenly said. “I like just being with you. You don’t have to buy me stuff to…to get anything from me…”

He thought this might be coming.

“I know that.” Soobin’s reply came out uncertain- even he wasn’t sure if he was being honest. In a way, spending money on Yeonjun made him feel better. It made him feel less guilty about what they were doing, because he was giving back to him in some way. There was a part of him that wondered if it was all charity, what Yeonjun did for him. Maybe he pitied Soobin, and stayed with him because of it. But if Soobin returned the favor, if he bought him nice things and took him everywhere he wanted to go, they could be more equal.

Deep down, he knew they would never be on the same footing. Soobin could take back all the things he gave to Yeonjun. They were material. They didn’t really matter. But Yeonjun could never take back what Soobin took from him. His love, his youth, and his innocence…they were intangible. Permanent. When Yeonjun gave them up for him, he could never ask for them back.

Yeonjun craned his neck to look into Soobin's lowered eyes. It was a cute gesture, the way he tilted his head just to be under Soobin’s line of sight. “Hey, I mean it, hyung. I don’t want you to think that I expect anything from you.”

Soobin looked up- for some reason, the declaration didn’t sit right with him. “It’s perfectly normal to expect things from me. That’s how relationships work. In saying anything else, you’re underestimating your own worth.”

Relationships. Were they in a relationship? And if so, of what kind? Neither of them had ever talked about it before, but now wasn’t the time.

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed. “Why are you saying it like that? It’s not about how much I’m worth. That makes me sound…” He looked away in anger. “Just don’t say it like that. All I meant was that- you know what, forget it. It was a stupid thing to say.”

They were silent for a few moments.

“It wasn’t stupid,” Soobin said quietly. “I’m sorry for misunderstanding.”

Yeonjun’s arms were crossed, but at least he was looking at him again. “You don’t have to apologize if you think you’re right. You always do that.”

Soobin raised his eyebrows- sometimes he forgot how worked up Yeonjun could get. “It doesn’t really matter if I’m right or wrong, to be perfectly honest. It’s not even what we were talking about in the first place.”

A few moments passed. “I guess that’s true,” Yeonjun reluctantly agreed.

“I like buying you things,” he said, redirecting to their original topic. “And when I take you places, I like being the one responsible for paying. But if it makes you uncomfortable, we can work something out.”

After a few seconds of thinking, Yeonjun finally muttered, “It doesn’t make me uncomfortable. I just don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

Soobin rested his chin on his hand, trying to ease Yeonjun into opening back up. When he became frustrated, he closed himself off, sitting tense in his chair and talking under his breath. “See, that confuses me. I don’t know what you mean.”

Communication was another skill Yeonjun had yet to fully develop. But that wasn’t an issue- very rarely could a guy his age express his feelings in a mature conversation. Soobin didn’t mind helping him get better at it; that was the least he could do. And it started by setting an example. If he communicated clearly how he was feeling, then hopefully Yeonjun could learn to do the same.

Yeonjun slowly lowered his crossed arms, but scratched at the tabletop as he murmured, “It’s just…most people probably think things about me when they see us.”

“What kinds of things?”

“Even looking past the fact that we’re men, which is enough to earn looks in itself, they probably think that I’m…” he couldn’t say the word that was on his mind, and instead settled for, “...that I’m just with you for money, or something. Which isn’t true. And it makes you look bad, which frustrates me even more. I feel like everyone is judging us, when we haven’t done anything wrong.”

Yeonjun hadn’t done anything wrong. Maybe the same couldn’t be said for him. Still, that wasn’t helpful, and Soobin thought carefully before asking, “Has anyone ever said these things to you before?”

“Well…no.”

“But you’re worried that they might?”

“Yeah. Is that dumb?”

Slowly, he shook his head. “It’s not dumb. But you also have to remember that you’re young, and you have a heightened awareness for how people might perceive you. You worry about things that haven’t even happened based on what you think other people are thinking about you. Does that sound like a good use of your energy?”

“I-” Yeonjun blinked.

“You should spend time doing the things that make you happy, not worrying so much about what other people may or may not think.”

“I can’t just not worry about it,” Yeonjun argued.

“Will those thoughts change, though, if we do anything differently?”

Yeonjun bit his lip, then glanced down at where he was still drumming his fingers on the table. His hands stilled. “No. I guess not.”

Soobin knew he had to be mindful of their surroundings, but he also knew that Yeonjun responded better to physical touch than words, so he leaned forward, gently cupping the side of his face. “This isn’t really about money, is it?”

Yeonjun shook his head, leaning slightly in Soobin’s touch. For such a tall, strong boy, Yeonjun was so fragile. He had to be careful with him. Yeonjun absorbed every detail, every word, and thought about it all far too much.

“I know that you’re afraid of people getting the wrong impression of you. But it’s not your responsibility to take care of their feelings, either. I mean, imagine it from a different perspective for a minute. A person walks past hundreds of other people a day, and that person is always mindful of how those hundreds of people see them. Every single day, they’re changing their behavior, their actions, and their feelings to accommodate those of people who most likely will never even notice. Think of how many people that is.” Yeonjun watched him now with wide eyes, wanting to hear every word. “Now think of how drained and exhausted that one person must feel, and how much of their own energy they’ve given up for someone who they don’t even know.”

“It does sound a bit ridiculous when you put it like that,” Yeonjun murmured. “But what if someone was thinking those things?”

He looked Yeonjun in the eyes as he asked, “Do you feel like what you’re doing is wrong?”

Again, Yeonjun shook his head. Soobin stroked along his cheek with his thumb once before dropping his hand.

“Then isn’t that all that matters? Even if someone else did think those things…why should you care? It’s not any of their business. And they’re not very good people if they’re trying to make it their business.”

Yeonjun finally smiled. “I wish I knew half as much as you did, hyung.”

Soobin returned his smile. “That wouldn’t be even a fraction of all the knowledge in the world.”

Carefully, Yeonjun picked up Soobin’s hand, holding it between both of his own and squeezing. “Tell me more stuff.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “Of course, the second you’re not in class, you want to learn. Who would have thought?”

Softly, Yeonjun said, “I like learning when it’s just you and me. In class, I have to share you with a dozen other students. It’s not fair.”

Soobin felt heat pricking at his skin from that comment, and he quickly grabbed Yeonjun’s hand, stopping him from playing with his fingers any more. “Mm, is that so?”

“I would have you only teaching me all day if I could,” Yeonjun went on.

“I don’t think I’d get much teaching done,” Soobin confessed. Mindlessly, he dragged his fingers along the back of Yeonjun’s hand, oblivious to the way he trembled as a result.

Tilting his head, Yeonjun flashed a flirtatious smile and said, “I wouldn’t mind that, either. In fact, I think I like that more.”

“Don’t tease me,” Soobin warned lightly, although he was only half-joking.

“But what if I want to?”

Soobin brought his hand up to his lips, and murmured, “I don’t think that will end well for you.”

Rather than blush and drop the subject like Soobin expected him to, Yeonjun leaned forward and said, “You’re sexy when you’re not trying. You should do it more.”

“And what about when I am trying?”

Yeonjun laughed and took his hand back. “I think you just look cute when you try.”

Frowning, Soobin let the moment pass. “What is it with you and calling me cute?”

“You’re cute. There’s nothing else about it, really,” Yeonjun answered with a shrug.

It wasn’t an adjective he would typically ascribe to himself, even less so when it came out of the mouth of a boy fifteen years younger than him. Yet somehow, that was how Yeonjun viewed him. Soobin didn’t have to understand, or try to change his mind, even if it seemed nonsensical.

“Oh, woah, look,” Yeonjun suddenly said, pointing up at the skylights. Soobin’s gaze followed his finger, and it took him a second to notice the change.

“It’s snowing,” he realized out loud. Only an hour or two ago, the sky had been bright and sunny, so much so that Yeonjun’s skin looked golden in the light. But now, the panels were dark and gray, casting swathes of silver shadows that he could just barely see the snow storm through.

Yeonjun quickly took out his phone and confirmed, “Winter storm warning. That sucks. It’s supposed to continue throughout the night.” He sighed and stretched his arms. “I guess I should probably get home then. Otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Soobin nodded, making a split-second decision. “I’ll drive you.”

“To the subway?”

“Home,” he informed him, getting to his feet. “Even you have to understand that I can’t let you take the subway in weather like this. Something might happen, and you’ll be stranded on the other side of the city.”

He expected Yeonjun to put up a fight. But after a moment, he nodded. “I guess you’re right. Are you sure it’s not too much of an inconvenience, though? We don’t live in the same districts.”

“It’s not an inconvenience at all,” Soobin reassured him, picking up their cups to throw out while Yeonjun grabbed their bags. After a few attempts at carrying them, Soobin discovered that Yeonjun didn’t actually like the gesture, giving him an irritated look each time, and so he didn’t offer again. “Besides, I like knowing that you’re safe. It’s much more important to me.”

A few seconds of silence passed between them as they walked towards the entrance, and then Yeonjun decided, “You’re a really good person, hyung.”

What an extremely ironic thing for him to say, considering he was Soobin’s greatest sin.

“What, for caring about your safety? I would think that would be the bare minimum.”

Yeonjun seemed unconvinced, and pressed a little closer to him when they got through the front doors and out into the cold. Opinions like that made Soobin grateful that Yeonjun had chosen him, and somewhat relieved as well. What if he had picked a different man? Someone who treated him poorly? He wouldn’t know the difference, constantly thanking Soobin just for showing him kindness, and acting as though Soobin caring about his well-being was some strange, over the top phenomenon. As if Soobin were trying hard to please him, when Yeonjun was the most easily satisfied person in the world. He could have ended up with someone awful, and not realized it at all. Having his standards as low as they were, it almost felt like a challenge to Soobin to raise them so high that he wouldn’t be content with anyone else.

Snow had already begun piling up on the street, and Soobin had to use his keys to find his car, flashing the lights so they could see in the storm. Once they were safely inside with the bags tucked away and both of them rushing to turn on the heat, Yeonjun mentioned, “I started taking classes, by the way. So I can get my license.”

This was good news. If Yeonjun could drive, their possibilities opened up even more. “That’s great, Yeonjun-ah. I’m sure you’re going to be a good driver.” His reply came out a little mindless as he focused on getting them out of the parking lot. Navigating with this weather turned out to be harder than he expected.

While they sat there, Yeonjun had his phone in his hand, texting his friends and scrolling through social media, and a sudden thought hit Soobin.

“I’m curious- where does your mother always think you’re going when you come see me?”

Yeonjun didn’t even look up from his phone as he answered, “Taehyun’s.”

Of course. The two were inseparable. “Does he know you’re using him to cover?”

“Yep. He just doesn’t know what for.”

Doubt filled Soobin. Taehyun was naturally inquisitive, certainly he would have questions. “I find it hard to believe that he wouldn’t ask.”

Yeonjun shrugged, and clicked his phone off. “He’s a good friend. I told him I’m with a guy, and he didn’t want details.”

That at least eased some of Soobin’s fears that his friends might know, although he was sure Taehyun didn’t want the specifics less because Yeonjun was with a guy, and more so because the guy wasn’t Taehyun himself. “You don’t ever ask Beomgyu to cover?”

A sharp snort escaped Yeonjun, startling Soobin beside him. “Sorry,” Yeonjun said, rubbing his arm. “That’s just funny. My mom doesn’t like Beomgyu.”

“Why not?”

“She thinks he’s gay.”

Confused, Soobin said, “I thought she didn’t disapprove of it.”

Another snicker came from the passenger seat. “Oh, sure, she doesn’t disapprove. As long as the guy I’m with meets her standards, which Beomgyu doesn’t.”

“Alright, so what exactly are her standards?” Not that he ever anticipated that he would meet him, but his curiosity persisted nonetheless.

“Kang Taehyun.”

“You’re joking.”

Yeonjun glanced at him. “No, really, I’m not. If I’m not dating Taehyun, then I don’t get to be gay.”

Now even more confused, Soobin had to ask, “Wait, are you dating Taehyun?” Had he been missing something all this time?

Yeonjun seemed to enjoy this roundabout conversation. “No, Taehyun’s straight. At least I’m pretty sure he is. But the longer my mom thinks I might be with him, the longer I can enjoy gay freedom before she starts going all homophobic.”

He wasn’t straight. And Soobin knew because he had that same desperate, self-loathing look in his eyes at eighteen whenever he looked in the mirror.

“She really likes him that much?”

“In her eyes, he’s literally the perfect son. He’s intelligent, and handsome, and he’s already passed his college entrance exams with full marks, and he’s going to be a lawyer. She’d rather have him than me, in all honesty, and I guess I don’t really blame her.” Yeonjun’s eyes grew distant as he admitted, “I have so many ideas for what I want to do, that it’s like I have no idea at all. But I know that I don’t want to go into business. I’m not cut out for it. I think she knows that, and maybe that’s part of the reason she wants someone like Taehyun in the family. He’d do a much better job than me.”

The conversation seemed to be frustrating Yeonjun, and so Soobin tried to steer it in a different direction. “You seem to like clothes and design a lot. Have you ever considered a career in it? Or dance? You’re quite talented in that area as well.”

And Yeonjun glanced at him, a soft look on his face. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “Dance isn’t a viable career though, and I’m not sure it’s something I’d want to do forever. I mean, if I thought it was realistic, I would major in fashion design, but I don’t think my mom would forgive me if I did.”

“Why not? You’re good at it, and you have a passion for it.” When Yeonjun remained silent, Soobin told him, “You know, my parents wanted me to be a doctor. I even went to medical school for two years.”

“Really?”

He nodded. It was a small part of himself, and he wasn’t sure if it was all that interesting, but Yeonjun sounded intrigued.

“Why did you switch majors?”

Soobin chuckled. “Because I wasn’t good at it. I’m squeamish when it comes to blood. Human anatomy isn’t really my cup of tea. But I liked the idea of helping people, and so I thought about other options where I could still do that. Teaching felt like a good choice. I was a good student, and I already liked to study literature in my free time. I thought my technical medical textbooks were quite boring, so I wanted the opposite.” Another notion from his past hit him, something about himself that he’d never realized before. “And I really liked my psychology TA. He was a psych-edu double major and I looked up to him a lot.”

Yeonjun quickly caught on. “You thought he was hot, didn’t you?”

Reluctantly, Soobin agreed. “Maybe a little. And if there were people like him in the department, then maybe it was a good place to be. My parents weren’t thrilled about it at first, but I paid my own way through school, so I didn’t let their opinions affect me that much. And eventually, they saw how much I enjoyed what I was studying and started supporting my choice.”

“I don’t see my parents ever doing that, to be honest. Especially not my dad.”

It was the first time Yeonjun had ever even brought him up, and it sparked Soobin’s curiosity. “Why not?”

“We don’t exactly have the best relationship.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about him before.”

“Well, considering he’s a deadbeat alcoholic with a gambling addiction, who only ever calls me when he wants money and refers to me as my mom’s ‘bitch son’ you might understand why we’re not on great terms.”

That was a much more straightforward, and far worse, description than the one Kim Misun had given him in October.

“Oh. That’s awful.” Soobin wanted to say so much more, but he didn’t want to cross a line, either. It infuriated him to hear, even more so to imagine, but he thought Yeonjun wouldn’t appreciate him making a big deal out of it.

“It’s whatever,” Yeonjun said with a shrug, although his voice came out bitter. “I know I’m not the easiest son in the world to deal with. And they’re divorced anyway, so it’s not like I ever see him.”

“Still, that must be hard,” Soobin sympathized. He didn’t know what else to say because all he had were questions but he knew Yeonjun wouldn’t answer any of them.

“Honestly, hyung, I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” he reassured him. “I won’t ask more about it.”

Yeonjun flashed him a grateful look. “Thanks.”

The weather did indeed get worse, a mix of pouring rain and strong snowfall that would have been disorienting and dangerous for anyone. Even though Soobin knew they were taking a risk, he was glad that he suggested it, and that Yeonjun agreed. Knowing he was out alone in this weather would be far more terrifying.

“If your mother happens to be home, and she asks what happened, you’re going to tell her that I saw you walking in the snow and offered to drive you, okay?”

“Okay,” Yeonjun agreed.

“Let’s not over-complicate anything. You were at the mall with Taehyun. He left before you knew the weather was going to get bad. And so you ended up walking by yourself.”

“Got it. It’s not far off from something that would actually happen, anyway.”

“That’s the point.” The more plausible a lie sounded, the closer it was to something the person you were lying to had already heard, the easier it was to believe. Maybe he shouldn’t teach Yeonjun things like this, but the situation called for desperate measures.

Of course, Yeonjun failed to mention the giant locked gate at the top of his driveway that barred anyone from entering. “I’ll just hop out and see if Yerim-noona will let us in,” Yeonjun said quickly, taking away from Soobin’s expression at the obstacle that he wasn’t pleased. So, he undid his seatbelt and jogged over to where the gate had an intercom, and came back a few seconds later with snow in his hair and a distinct irritated look on his face.

“What did she say?”

“She said she was getting my mom.” Not the most favorable outcome. The gate didn’t budge, and just a few seconds later, Yeonjun’s phone started ringing. “It’s her,” he said darkly, making the situation sound far more ominous than it was. “What’s up?”

Yeonjun put the phone on speaker and set it in his lap, staring expectantly.

“‘What’s up?’ You disappear in the middle of a blizzard, and all I get is ‘what’s up’? Choi Yeonjun, I thought I raised you better than that.”

He sighed, long and heavy, the typical sigh of annoyed teenagers. “I’m fine, mom. I was just out with Taehyun. We weren’t paying attention to the weather, and his parents made him come home so he could eat with his noona. She's back in town today. Choi Soobin-nim saw me walking and drove me home.”

“Choi Soobin? Your teacher, Soobin-ssi?"

"Yes, him."

It only took her a split second to instruct, "Invite him inside."

"What? No, I’m not doing that."

"You said he drove you home, in this storm of all things. It’s the polite thing to do."

"No, that’s weird."

"Why is it weird?"

Yeonjun stared incredulously at the phone before saying, "Because he’s my teacher. I’m not inviting him inside my house."

"He did a really nice thing for you today, Yeonjun-ah, at least invite him in so I can thank him. If you won’t, hand the phone over, I’ll do it myself."

"Oh my god, fine, I’ll ask him to come in. Just unlock the gate." As soon as Yeonjun hung up, he shut his eyes and said through gritted teeth, "My mother is insisting that you come inside."

“That’s very polite of her. Would you like me to turn down the invitation?”

Soobin would really prefer to not enter Yeonjun’s family house at all, considering even he thought it would be offensive on some level. His mother didn’t know, still completely oblivious to the things they did. It would be easier to keep it that way if he never saw her.

“I think she’ll actually kill me if you don’t.”

“Don’t be dramatic,” he reprimanded, only earning himself the same glare Yeonjun had just been trying to set his cell phone on fire with.

“You wouldn’t think I’m being dramatic if you’d met her,” Yeonjun muttered.

Soobin had met her. Of course, Yeonjun didn’t know that. But he could sort of understand where he was coming from. His mother was intense, opinionated, and straightforward. Much like her son. Escaping the situation wouldn’t be so easy.

“So, I have to go in, then?”

Yeonjun nodded grimly. “Just be fast. Hopefully she has somewhere better to be.”

“And if she doesn’t?”

The gate in front of them slowly started opening, and Soobin drove his car through while Yeonjun sat there in frustrated silence. “I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I shouldn’t have let you drive me back.”

Soobin sighed, and parked his car where he thought would be most appropriate, away from the two other much nicer and more expensive cars. “I’m not upset. It was my idea. Just, be careful with what you say in front of her.”

Yeonjun nodded and retrieved his bags, leading the way up the sidewalk and onto an unnecessarily large front porch. The door opened immediately- a woman stood there who wasn’t his mother, much shorter and younger than her. “Hi, noona,” Yeonjun said, sounding polite even as she took his bags and reminded him to remove his shoes. It looked a bit comical, the small woman suddenly holding all of his things, scolding him for almost wearing his shoes inside while he towered over her and apologized sheepishly. Soobin followed him, momentarily startled when he received the same treatment. The woman asked for his coat, then waved her hands at him to take his shoes off, too, muttering about men and manners.

“Who is that?” Soobin said quietly once they were in the hall. It was subtle and beautiful, wood-paneled and minimalist in design. A few low shelves decorated the space, with sculptures and art pieces adorning them.

“Yerim-noona,” Yeonjun answered under his breath. “Our housemaid.”

“Oh.”

“Yeonjun-ah!” A familiar warm voice called sharply from down the hall.

“Coming!” Yeonjun shouted back, and led Soobin to a room with an open, arched entryway that gave way to a wide, round sitting area. Unlike the rest of the house that he had seen so far, the floor of this room was covered with plush cream carpets, similar to the ones that decorated Yeonjun’s room. All of the furniture looked like real mahogany, and the couches were a deep maroon. Kim Misun perched on one of them, a porcelain cup in her hand and an expectant look on her face. Yeonjun glanced at her, then at Soobin, then back at her.

“We’ve already met, no need to introduce us,” Misun said, rising to her feet.

Yeonjun frowned. “You have?”

“Ah, yes, briefly,” Soobin said, as though he had just realized he never told Yeonjun. “It’s very nice to see you again, Misun-ssi.”

“You as well,” she replied with a curious tilt of her head. “It was quite kind of you to bring Yeonjun home in this weather, it’s a miracle you ran into him.”

“It was no trouble at all, the alternative would have been much worse.” He lied through his teeth, effortlessly smooth, and he wished Yeonjun didn’t have to see this side of him.

“Let me repay you with a meal,” she offered, setting her cup down.

“That’s a very gracious offer, but I couldn’t-”

“Dinner’s already finished cooking.” Her smile left no room for argument. “Please, I insist.”

There was no way Soobin could refuse. Every possible excuse he came up with sounded more rude and far-fetched than the last, and even though he knew there was a chance Yeonjun would hold a grudge against him for a long time, he dipped his head. “Alright then, I suppose it couldn’t hurt.”

He didn’t want to chance a look at Yeonjun, especially when his mother said with a stern glance, “Yeonjun-ah, go set the table.”

Soobin was beginning to realize that Yeonjun only talked back to his mother when they spoke on the phone. He muttered a low, “Okay,” and disappeared down the hall, leaving the two of them alone in the sitting room.

“He’s a bit oppositional,” Misun explained, clearly not pleased with his attitude. “He gets it from his father. Always leaving exactly when I tell him not to, going to places I say aren’t suitable just because I said it, making questionable friends simply because he knows it’s going to bother me, even always insisting on making and spending his own money because he wants nothing to do with me. It becomes a little frustrating at times.”

That last remark was actually news to Soobin. He thought Yeonjun used his family’s money for everything, and Soobin wouldn’t have blamed him if he did. If he had grown up rich, it would probably seem like the most natural thing in the world. But it explained why Yeonjun was working a summer job when they first met, and why he had problems with Soobin spending money on him as well. He was more conscious of it than most people in his position would be, and it seemed to be a source of insecurity rather than confidence.

Still, he had to remain impartial in front of Misun. “I can understand how that might be tiring.”

Yeonjun called from the dining room before they could answer, so Misun just gave Soobin a patient smile, as if to say that was the price of being a mother, and led him to the table. Dinner was a warm winter stew, a recipe that reminded Soobin of home, and he remembered what Yeonjun said about his mother writing cookbooks in her spare time.

A crystal chandelier hung over them while they ate. It most likely cost more than a year of Soobin’s rent. Yeonjun was quiet, and Misun made idle conversation with Soobin over little things. His teaching career, what college he went to, how Yeonjun performed in class. She talked about other things, too. Her business came up several times. She sounded proud of it, leading Soobin to wonder if it was the child she preferred.

“Did you see Taehyun today?” Misun suddenly asked her son, and Yeonjun looked up from his bowl for the first time in a while.

“Yeah, we hung out for a couple hours.”

Even now, with so much happening in between, Yeonjun still remembered their agreed-upon story.

“Is he well?”

Yeonjun sighed. “Yeah, he’s fine. He’s busy packing his stuff, though.”

Misun glanced at Soobin proudly. “I’m sure you must know Taehyun. He just got accepted into law school.”

Soobin smiled. “Yes, Taehyun is a very bright student. That doesn’t surprise me at all.”

“He got permission to take his entrance exams early, so he could start immediately after graduation, did you know?”

He quickly began to see that she actually preferred both Taehyun and her business to her own son.

“Mhm, we briefly discussed it at the start of the summer term.” Yeonjun sighed again, and as they had already finished eating, he took the opportunity to ask, “Pardon me, but can you tell me where your restroom is?”

Immediately perking up, Yeonjun pointed down the hall. “First door on your left, next to the stairs.”

Soobin nodded. “I’ll be right back.”

As he excused himself from the room, he heard Misun start a quiet conversation with her son. "Doesn’t Soobin seem like a nice man?" he heard her say.

Not even missing a beat, Yeonjun replied dryly, "Yeah, I’m sure he’s great. Probably killer in bed, too."

"Yeonjun! That’s incredibly inappropriate!" his mother reprimanded, although Soobin could hear her laughing, like she wasn’t supposed to but couldn’t help herself. Apparently, comments like that weren’t even out of line for him. And then, she paused before asking, "Do you think he’s taken?"

Oh. He hadn’t expected her to take that approach. It felt extremely abrupt. Then again, even when they first met, he thought she was looking at him strangely. He just hadn’t been able to put a name to it at the time.

Yeonjun’s voice was calm and bored. "Mhm, I’ve seen his partner. Super pretty. Long legs. Young."

"That’s a shame," she sighed. "He’s quite handsome. And he looks like he’d be good with finances."

Soobin couldn’t help but be impressed by Yeonjun’s responses. Not only were they fast, but technically correct, as well. He wasn’t even lying. He just happened to be talking about himself.

"He’s my lit teacher, I guarantee he’s not.” Rude, but not untrue, either. Mathematics wasn't a particular strong suit of his. “Mom, it’s getting late," Yeonjun complained. "He probably wants to go home."

"If he has somewhere to be, I’m sure that he’ll excuse himself."

A few seconds later, Soobin’s phone vibrated in his pocket, and he hurried into the bathroom before taking it out to see a text on the screen, followed quickly by two more.

CYJ

excuse yourself. now.

CYJ

please i’m actually begging ㅠㅠ

CYJ

i told u she would do this

Me

I’ll be honest, I don’t know what to say.

CYJ

literally anything. ur dog is sick

CYJ

u have ibs

CYJ

u work nights

Me

I don’t think any of those are going to work considering she knows what I do for a living, I’m already in the bathroom, and my fictional dog can’t exactly call me to tell me he’s come down with a cold.

CYJ

hyung pls use ur big smart sexy brain im in distress im so uncomfortable

Me

I am also uncomfortable.

CYJ

oh don’t take her flirting personally btw she does that w every hot guy she meets that looks like he has a degree

Me

Wow, that reminds me of someone else I know.

CYJ

shut up just leave ok <3

Soobin sighed, and put his phone away. He would just use a simple excuse, no need to make things too elaborate or complicated.

When he walked back into the dining room, Yeonjun still had his phone in his hands and Misun looked at the entryway expectantly.

“Thank you so much for the wonderful meal, Misun-ssi,” Soobin said gratefully. “Unfortunately, it’s getting late and I still have a good amount of papers to get through before class tomorrow.”

“Oh, it’s no problem at all,” she said, leaving her linen napkin on the table and getting to her feet. “I’m sure you’re a busy man, and you still have to drive back in the rain, poor thing. Yeonjun-ah, why don’t you grab an umbrella and walk Soobin-ssi to his car?”

“Sure,” Yeonjun agreed, maybe too quickly, but his mother didn’t seem to catch on. Soobin thanked her again for the meal and let himself be herded towards the front door, where both of them put on their shoes and Yeonjun retrieved an umbrella. Once they were outside, Yeonjun put up the umbrella and handed it over to Soobin so he could hold it over both of them. “I’m really sorry about that,” Yeonjun said, and he sounded genuinely embarrassed. At least they could thank the rain for masking their conversation from listening ears.

Soobin smiled. “Don’t be. I kind of had fun. You made a lot of interesting expressions.”

The statement earned him a sharp glare.

“Like that one,” he informed him. “But please, never invite me over again. Your mother is-”

“A cougar,” Yeonjun finished for him. “Although, I’m not sure if you’re really one to talk.” Soobin’s mouth dropped open in shock, and Yeonjun started laughing. “Don’t look at me like that, I get to joke about it sometimes.”

Soobin gave him a stern look. “I’m not sure if you do.” Although, he supposed he preferred Yeonjun making jokes about their age difference over it making him uncomfortable. “Okay, at least not all the time,” he amended his previous reprimand.

“Mhm, sure,” Yeonjun agreed, but the mischievous expression on his face said otherwise. Soobin anticipated he would be hearing more of these jokes in the future. “Should I even ask why you guys know each other?”

Soobin hesitated, then decided it would be better to just tell the truth. “She came to collect your things that day you left class early.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” Yeonjun didn’t elaborate, and Soobin didn’t ask him to. He started walking towards his car, and Soobin followed close behind, making sure to keep the umbrella over his head. When Yeonjun turned back to look at him, he had the passing thought that Yeonjun looked beautiful under any sky. Even the melancholy chaos of a winter storm. “I’d kiss you goodbye, but…”

“That’s okay,” Soobin said softly. He understood. It was too risky here. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

Yeonjun nodded, and his eyes were beautiful in the low light, glimmering like a cat’s. “See you in a few days.” Gently, Yeonjun took the umbrella from him and held it up while Soobin got in his car, and stood out there until he disappeared from view.

───────✧❁✧───────

Flurries of snow flew at the windows like moths to a flame, so eager to burst into a thousand droplets of water and race to meet their ends.

The last few days of the semester dragged on, frigid and pointless, and his students spent most of their class time playing games and talking about their plans for the future.

He didn’t mind. He remembered what it was like to be that young, just sitting around and waiting to start a new chapter of life. So, he was lenient with them and only used the bare minimum of his teaching periods. Besides, he had his own celebration to look forward to. Yeonjun would be graduating in less than a week.

They wouldn’t have to be so careful after.

When Yeonjun stopped being his student, Soobin stopped being responsible for leading their relationship. It was both an exciting occasion and a pressure lifted off his shoulders.

In fact, he was quite convinced that they had navigated the last few months as cleanly as possible. No slip-ups, no sightings, not even any questionable interactions during class. They looked like two people who barely knew anything of one another besides the space they shared inside the academy. A teacher and student. Exactly the way it should look.

However, nothing stayed so simple, and he should have known his luck would run out before he reached the finish line.

It was a bitter winter day, the Monday before graduation. Class had ended. The students had already packed up and left, looking forward to getting home and out of the cold.

One student lingered behind, and Soobin smiled when he saw Yeonjun still pretending to pack his bag. “They’re gone,” he said, and Yeonjun glanced up.

He abandoned his bag in favor of locking the door, striding over to Soobin’s desk, and sighing, “What’s the point in making us show up anyway? We finished our college entrance exams and our in-class ones. You’re not teaching us anything. And it’s freezing.”

Soobin frowned. “I taught you about contemporary poetry today, weren’t you listening?”

Yeonjun sat himself on the edge of Soobin’s desk, crossing one long leg over the other, and answered honestly, “No. Was I supposed to be?”

He swatted him with the papers in his hand. “Yes, you brat. It’ll come up in college.”

Laughing, Yeonjun said, “Yeah, and when it does, I’ll have you teach it to me for real.”

“I did teach it to you for real!” he replied, indignant. “It’s not my fault that you decided it wasn’t worth your time. I won’t repeat it for you just because you ask me to.”

“Yes you will,” Yeonjun said, a smug smile on his face. “You like me too much to say no.”

Just because he wasn’t wrong, didn’t mean he got to say things like that. “Mhm, I’m sure you think so.”

And before Yeonjun could retort, a knock came at the door.

Both of them immediately looked across the room, momentarily frozen. Soobin’s mind started racing through all the possibilities. Maybe a student forgot one of their things. Maybe one of the teachers had a question for him.

Maybe it was the headmaster, and they had been found out.

While his thoughts were spiraling, whoever stood outside knocked again.

“Go open it,” he told Yeonjun calmly.

And so, the student slipped off his desk and walked over to the door, glancing back at Soobin once before undoing the lock and twisting the handle.

“Oh,” Yeonjun said. His body covered the doorway, and Soobin couldn’t see who stood in front of him. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

The voice belonged to Kang Taehyun, and sure enough, Yeonjun stepped aside to let him in. He didn’t even look at his friend, and for some reason was staring directly at Soobin.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir, but I had something I wanted to discuss with you.”

It was a completely normal thing to say. And so, he nodded and gestured him over. “That’s fine, Yeonjun-ssi and I were just finishing our conversation.”

This was news to Yeonjun, but he pretended well. “Yeah, I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

Taehyun lifted his chin. “Meet me in the library. I have a book I need to return.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun agreed, and glanced at Soobin once before walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

The way Taehyun stared immediately put him on edge. It was the boy’s gaze, so intense and self-assured, and he made no effort to hide that he’d come here with a mission in mind.

They rarely, if ever, spoke to one another. Taehyun was extremely bright. He never had any questions. He never missed a single mark on his work. He had no periods of absence, and never got into trouble unless it was something that Yeonjun and Beomgyu dragged him into. Taehyun was a boy who constantly looked and spoke as though he had grown up too quickly; clever, eloquent, and almost too serious for his own good.

The only times Soobin had ever seen his stoic exterior slip was when he played around with his friends, and it was a rare occasion. Of course, his suspicions from the autumn still held. Taehyun had come the closest out of anyone to seeing what he and Yeonjun were up to, had most likely heard things he shouldn’t, and maybe he stood before him now because he had finally put the pieces in place.

If that were the case, then Soobin had netted himself a difficult conversation indeed, but one that he could surely navigate without too much consequence. There was only so much Taehyun could do, smart and loyal as he was. He was still powerless.

“You can pull up a chair if you’d like,” Soobin offered, but Taehyun shook his head.

“I don’t plan on being here for that long, I just had a question to run past you. You see…” he approached Soobin’s desk, still reserved but intent on what he had to say. “I’ve enjoyed your class quite a lot over the past semester. I think you’re far more knowledgeable than our previous literature teacher, and you put together our curriculum in a way where it would be more difficult to fail our exams than pass. Any teacher who can manage that is one that I can respect.”

Soobin struggled to keep his expression composed- he had no idea what to make of any of this. He had braced himself for a disagreement, but instead, Taehyun stood here, complimenting his teaching style.

“I’m glad that I was able to make it an enjoyable subject for you,” he said, and Taehyun nodded.

“I think you’re very smart, sir, is what I’m trying to say, which is why I’m so confused.”

Soobin tilted his head. “Confused about what?”

“Why you’re doing it.” Taehyun’s voice was calm and steady. “I don’t understand why someone with your level of intelligence and educational experience would make such an awful, reckless decision.”

The cold pit of dread that had taken root in his stomach earlier, and was slowly dissipating with Taehyun’s speech, suddenly locked in like an icy punch to the gut.

And Taehyun must have seen the sharp change in his expression, because he pushed on, “What you’re doing is wrong."

Soobin kept himself perfectly in line. This was the conversation he had been expecting. In fact, it was one he had practiced for over and over, and he knew the best thing to do was hold himself above Taehyun. "Excuse me? I’m not quite sure what you’re referring to."

Regardless of how the student might feel, he was just that. A student. Soobin had years of knowledge and experience on him, and he let himself rely on those now.

Taehyun’s voice grew taut, steely. His friendly facade dropped in an instant. "Don’t pretend that you have no idea what I'm talking about. Your fake obliviousness is insulting.” And then, as if he knew what Soobin was thinking, “As an adult, you should at least be able to take accountability for your actions."

He blinked, and gave a bit of lead. "Alright. Exactly what is it that you think I’m doing?"

"Leading Yeonjun on. Manipulating my best friend into believing that he’s in a relationship with you, when you’re just using him to satisfy your gross, perverted wants. It’s wrong, and downright despicable. And if you cared about him at all, you’d stop."

The accusations practically poured from Taehyun. Maybe they had been building up inside of him for weeks, and now that he stood here, he could barely contain his anger.

Soobin frowned. Who was Kang Taehyun, a student, completely ignorant to the nature of their relationship and the conversations they had, to criticize his decisions? "I’m not sure you-”

"He thinks you love him." Taehyun cut over him, swift and razor-sharp.

Such a declaration raised a red flag. Not for him, or even for Taehyun, but for Yeonjun. Was it truly possible? Had he said something to his friend? Was Yeonjun the one to let it slip, and nearly ruin everything?

Soobin struggled to believe it. Yeonjun had promised, over and over he had promised that it was their secret. But if that were the case, then why was Taehyun so convinced? Only a confession from Yeonjun’s own mouth would lead him to be so sure.

Still, he had to remain steadfast. There was no point in making flimsy excuses now, but he didn’t have to admit to anything, either.

"And how would you know?”

He meant it as a question of how Taehyun found out in the first place. However, Taehyun, so wrapped up in his accusation, took it as another chance to attack him. "Simple mathematics. You can’t love him. He’s like a child to you. In fact, I would be more concerned if you did say that you loved him, because that would tell me that you have absolutely no idea what you’re doing."

Mildly intrigued by how passionate he had suddenly become, Soobin inquired, "Are you this angry because you love him, perhaps?"

Taehyun only stared, eyes cold and rigid. The question seemed to land a bit too close for his comfort. "He’s my best friend. I have every right to be angry."

Soobin remained unconvinced, quite certain now that Taehyun was so furious because he was jealous. Anger manifested in strange ways, especially in a boy so young, but Soobin knew it took a good amount of courage to confront him like this, so he didn’t continue to taunt him.

Instead, he asked calmly, "So, what is it you're planning to do, then? Are you going to tell someone?"

Taehyun looked insulted, and bit out, "It’s not my job to tell someone. That’s your job. You’re the adult. You have to figure it out.” And then, more honestly, he glanced at the door in frustration and said, “Besides, Yeonjun would never forgive me if he knew I interfered."

That wasn’t true. Yeonjun forgave everyone, most of all his closest childhood friend. He was loving to the point of being almost too compassionate, and would surely understand why Taehyun made the choice that he did.

However, Taehyun’s insecurity in regards to their relationship worked in Soobin’s favor, and so he said nothing other than, "Is that so? So what if I told him that you did?"

Taehyun already had an answer, but remained resolute. "Then he’d believe you, and I’d probably lose the best friend I’ve ever had because you’ve manipulated him to such a point where he would put your word over mine. But that’s a risk I’m willing to take because this is about his safety."

"I’m not going to tell him," Soobin stated, and rose from his chair. It was a lie, but it would ease Taehyun’s mind, which already made Soobin far kinder than anyone else who might be in his position. "And I appreciate your reflections. But I’m afraid it’s just not really any of your business, Taehyun-ssi. Yeonjun is an adult. He can make his own choices."

“You’re-” Taehyun’s eyes went wide, and very suddenly, Soobin could see what he must have looked like as a child. His big eyes, so shocked at the realization that not everyone shared his point of view. “You really don’t think you’re doing anything wrong.”

Soobin sighed, and glanced out the window. “In that regard, I think we may be in similar situations, Taehyun-ssi. You think that by coming here to me with your concerns, you’re doing your friend a favor. At your age, it’s an understandable conclusion to come to, but when you’re older, you may realize that what you’re doing right now is going to cause more harm than good. I know it’s not a simple matter, and I understand your concerns. But you’re not being rational. I have no desire to hurt Yeonjun. I care about him very much, just like I care about all of you, and if you were able to see past your own personal bias, I think you would be able to see that, as well.”

Half of his words were lies, but as he expected, Taehyun suddenly seemed conflicted. His fire flickered, nearly put out, and he wasn’t so sure of himself anymore. It was because Soobin understood him, and understood the things that mattered to him. If the conclusion was logical, if it fit and he could rationalize it, then it wasn’t necessarily wrong. And if Soobin, who was older than him, and was in a position of power, told him that he was too young and biased to understand something, didn’t that make it true?

Taehyun knew that he had a point. On that, at least, they were on the same page. Probably more than Taehyun and Yeonjun were. Yeonjun had no idea how much Taehyun cared about him, completely convinced that his friend was straight and only saw him as a platonic partner.

Soobin saw through him. They were too similar for him not to see it. And Taehyun must be able to tell, because, slowly but surely, he deflated.

“So I’m just supposed to do nothing? Because it would hurt him?” Taehyun asked, sounding defeated.

“That’s entirely up to you,” Soobin said, as though he left the choice in Taehyun’s hands. Then, he looked at Taehyun and continued, “If you truly think that I don’t have Yeonjun’s best interests at heart, then please, do what you think is right.”

That one offer cemented his safety, because why would Soobin give him the option at all if he wasn’t convinced he did nothing wrong? It made him sound as though he knew something Taehyun didn’t. And Taehyun, for all his book smarts, and his trumped up courage, and his moral convictions, had no grounds to stand on. Soobin knew he wouldn’t say anything. Because Taehyun had everything to lose and nothing to gain by outing them and their relationship. His best friend would be miserable. Soobin’s life would be ruined. And he would be the cause of it all.

He planned to confront Soobin and force him to confess himself. But Soobin had no intention of doing so, and that ruined everything Taehyun had banked his plan on.

So, Taehyun stepped back, stiff and disappointed, with no idea where to go from here. “Promise you won’t tell him about this.”

“I promise.”

Of course he would tell Yeonjun. Not to get Taehyun in trouble- he honestly didn’t care about that. But he had to know what Yeonjun let slip and make sure that it didn’t happen again. Taehyun refused to speak on the matter, so his only option was to confront Yeonjun directly.

Taehyun nodded, silent, and was out the door without another word. Soobin wondered what he would say to Yeonjun once they met up. If he would pretend like everything was fine, and drop off his library book, and the two would go do whatever two teenage boys do together to kill time days before graduation.

For a moment, just a brief second, Soobin was jealous. And everything Yeonjun had told him resurfaced, feeding the sick, jaded feeling in his chest. How his mother adored Taehyun, how he would be accepted into their family with grace, and how well everyone thought they fit together.

Imagine how simple things would be if he was in Taehyun’s place. Their relationship would still be scrutinized because that was the society they lived in, but at least it wouldn’t be completely outside what was seen as morally correct. If Soobin was Yeonjun’s age, if he had the privileges that Taehyun had, everything would be so simple.

Taehyun was a coward for doing nothing for so many years when he had all the opportunities in the world to make Yeonjun his. That wasn’t Soobin’s fault. And it wasn’t his responsibility to set things right.

Yeonjun chose him. It was that easy. Taehyun could be as bitter and furious as he wanted, but he had no options left other than to allow it to play out and pray for a conclusion that worked in his favor.

And Soobin refused to let that happen.

───────✧❁✧───────

Graduation happened in a blur. Soobin sat with the rest of the staff, applauding the fourth year students and celebrating their academic successes, especially those who graduated with highest honors awards.

Yeonjun’s mother actually did attend, so Soobin kept his distance, simply sending Yeonjun a congratulatory text. He got back to him in a few hours, and they arranged to meet on Sunday, once again at Soobin’s apartment. It was the safest place.

He didn’t want to dampen Yeonjun’s spirits- he was so excited to be out of school and free for a few weeks, but Soobin’s own need for clarity had been eating at him, an itch he couldn’t satisfy without hearing Yeonjun’s own reasons.

When he arrived, Soobin pretended as though nothing was wrong. Yeonjun looked beautiful, just like he always did, and Soobin had bought coffee the last time he went grocery shopping, so he made them drinks and Yeonjun suggested they sit outside since it was a sunny winter day, the first one they had seen in a while.

“Did you tell him?” Soobin was petting Yeonjun’s hair gently while they sat together on his balcony, but his tone was cool, cutting through the February sunshine like a knife.

Yeonjun glanced up from where his head rested in Soobin’s lap. He had been laying there for a while, mumbling cutely about potential plans for college, and Soobin almost felt bad for shattering his careful little happiness. “What? Tell who?”

“Taehyun. Did you tell Taehyun about us?”

He quickly sat up, immediately concerned. The pleasant drowsiness disappeared from his eyes. “No. I haven’t said anything to anyone. Not even Taehyun. I promised I wouldn’t.”

“Then how come he knows?”

“I-” Yeonjun’s eyes were wide, anxious and clueless. “I don’t know. Did he say something to you?”

Soobin didn’t answer. “Yeonjun, if you told him, then I want you to be honest.”

“Hyung, I didn’t tell him,” Yeonjun insisted. “If he said something, then he must have put it together himself.”

For some reason, he remained unconvinced. He had no idea why Yeonjun would lie, but it didn’t make any sense otherwise. “It’s alright if you did. I just want to know so we can talk about it.”

Yeonjun pushed away from him to give him a sharp look. Soobin felt cold in the absence of his body heat. “I already said that I didn’t. Why are you so convinced that I’m lying?”

His tone was completely uncalled for, and Soobin rested his hands in his lap where Yeonjun’s fluffy head had just been. If Yeonjun wasn’t guilty, then he had no reason to get so defensive. “I never said you were lying.”

“But I’m telling you the truth,” he argued. “I didn’t tell Taehyun anything. Okay?”

“Yeonjun.” His voice was feather-light, delicate, and he wanted him to listen. “I’m not accusing you of anything. Why are you acting like this?”

A frown struck his pretty face, and he seemed frustrated, as if he were wrestling with a thought. “You just did. You accused me of telling Taehyun, and then you accused me of not being honest. And I’m telling you, I haven’t done anything wrong.”

“Okay.” Soobin nodded, and spoke gently. “I believe you. I’m sorry if I upset you.”

“I’m not upset.”

He sounded upset.

They sat in tense silence for a few minutes, until finally Yeonjun glanced at him. “What did Taehyun say?”

Soobin took a deep breath, and kept his gaze on the sky in front of them. “Only that he knew what we were doing, and that he didn’t want me to hurt you.”

Confused, Yeonjun said, “What? You’ve never hurt me…”

It eased his mind, to hear Yeonjun say it so plainly. Even if Yeonjun wouldn’t really ever know whether it was true. He had such a skewed perception of how he should be treated.

“I know that. And I assured Taehyun that it wasn’t my intention, and that you’re perfectly capable of making your own decisions.”

Several moments passed before Yeonjun wondered, “Why didn’t he talk to me first? Why does he even care at all?

He didn’t want to lie, but divulging Taehyun’s secret would be cruel, and it didn’t benefit Soobin to say anything, either. “I have no idea. Maybe you should talk to him.”

Yeonjun’s expression grew irritated. “No. If he has a problem, then he should come to me. What the hell…” he muttered, and glanced at his phone, almost as if he were considering texting him. “Do you think he’s going to tell someone else?”

“No,” Soobin answered honestly. He had seen to that already. “He’s not that kind of person.”

After a few seconds, Yeonjun nodded. “You’re right. He’s not. I just wish he’d talked to me about it instead of you.”

Yeonjun’s evident concern eased Soobin’s mind. He really didn’t tell Taehyun. Otherwise he wouldn’t sound so shocked and confused now. Really, the one thing Soobin couldn’t forgive was dishonesty. Nothing else tore him apart quite like it, and so as long as Yeonjun told the truth, everything would be fine.

“He was probably afraid that you would be upset.”

“I could never be upset with him,” Yeonjun immediately said, exactly like Soobin knew he would. After that, he seemed to make up his mind. “I’m going to call him.”

Soobin glanced at him. “Right now?”

Maybe his tone of voice revealed more than he wanted it to, because Yeonjun slowly backtracked. “Later, I mean. He’s usually more available at night, anyways.”

“That’s probably better,” Soobin agreed, secretly relieved that Yeonjun wasn’t planning on leaving so soon. They didn’t have that much time to spend together. Even though Yeonjun was out of school now, Soobin still had classes to prepare for. The new semester would be starting in just a few days.

Eventually, they moved on from the topic entirely, and he felt at peace again. A brilliant blue winter sky stretched over them, sunshine bright on Yeonjun’s cheeks, turning them into priceless ivory. It was a beautiful day.

───────✧❁✧───────

“I think I might be in love with you,” Yeonjun stated simply one morning. They were sitting on the sofa together, him drinking coffee and Soobin drinking tea, and talking about mindless things. He had his legs resting in Soobin’s lap, and looked perfectly at ease.

The sudden confession felt like a punch to the chest. Carefully, he put his mug down and asked, “Have you ever been in love before?”

“Yes. Right now.”

At any other moment, his answer would have made Soobin laugh. As it was, a sort of fear began to seep through him, cold and immobilizing. “You wouldn’t really know, then. That’s why you think you’re in love with me. When you’re older and have more experiences, you’ll realize that’s not really how you feel.”

Yeonjun sat up a little straighter, and just as pointedly reflected, “How would you know? Have you ever been in love before?”

Soobin froze.

The simple answer was no, and that this is as close to love as he’s ever gotten.

Yeonjun didn’t wait for him to lie- he read his expression, just like always, and concluded, “That’s what I thought. Don’t tell me how I’m supposed to feel.” After a pause, he added, “It’s not like it’s a big deal, and I don’t expect you to feel the same way. I just thought I should let you know. Maybe it was too impulsive. Sorry.”

“That’s alright…” Soobin spoke half-heartedly. He wanted to just move on and pretend Yeonjun hadn’t said anything at all.

The silence that fell between them felt crushing. But Yeonjun only had more to say. “I’m starting school in June.”

Soobin frowned. “I thought you weren’t sure what you wanted to do.”

Yeonjun’s lips were parted, but no words came out, and his hands tightened their grip around his coffee mug. Finally, he asked quietly, “Weren’t you listening? When I came at the end of February?”

The first half of March had already passed in a blur. Soobin’s classes consumed most of his time, and he couldn’t remember what he had for dinner most days. “I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind.”

“That’s okay.” Yeonjun’s smile looked more forced than usual. “I got into a really good design program at an arts academy in Gangnam. Beomgyu got an offer, too. He’s going to study music.”

“I thought you wanted to get into a SKY university.”

“My parents wanted me to get into a SKY university,” Yeonjun corrected him patiently. “But I decided to do what feels right to me.”

“That’s fantastic.” Soobin genuinely meant it, and Yeonjun’s whole face lit up, forgiving him so easily. “I’m really happy for you, baby.”

The term of endearment slipped out- he had never said it before, and was never really planning on it. He thought it would be awkward to call Yeonjun names like that, considering their age difference.

But Yeonjun reacted more strongly than he would have anticipated. Before Soobin could even apologize, Yeonjun set his mug down and gave him a cocky look. “Yeah? Am I your baby?”

I think I’m in love with you. Yeonjun confessed only a few minutes ago, and it should have reminded Soobin to slow down. It did, briefly. Yet even now, when Yeonjun looked at him like that, his entire rationale went out the window.

“I don’t know,” Soobin murmured, and set his cup down as well. “Do you want to be?”

Yeonjun slid onto his lap and kissed him, humming his agreement against his lips. He fit so well there, and Soobin slipped his hands under his t-shirt and along his back, knowing it made him tremble. For someone who hated the taste of black coffee, he was starting to get accustomed to it, even if it was just the flavor that lingered on Yeonjun’s tongue.

“Hyung.” Yeonjun’s voice was low and sultry. “Can I ride you?”

His breath hitched in his throat, and he brushed Yeonjun’s hair back from his forehead. “Sure, baby.”

Yeonjun liked it- as soon as the word slipped past his lips, he had his mouth on Soobin’s neck and fingers on the hem of his shirt. This was better. No sudden confessions, no talk of the future. Just Yeonjun on his lap, with him where he belonged, communicating through touch and body heat.

Later that night, they lay curled up together in front of the television. Soobin had Yeonjun’s back pressed against his chest, and he smelled like clean laundry from the collection of clothes he’d slowly started to stash away at Soobin’s apartment. Things were good. A perfect moment in time. And if he could, he would freeze everything and live in that snapshot forever.

───────✧❁✧───────

It was when Yeonjun was preparing to leave for university that Soobin realized he just couldn’t bear to let him go.

"Stay here with me," he murmured one day while watching Yeonjun sort out the clothes he kept at his place, drawing him into his arms. His rose-scented hair tickled Soobin’s nose, warm from the emerging early summer sun, and he pressed soft, convincing kisses to Yeonjun’s head. "Don’t go."

For a moment, Yeonjun just let Soobin shower him in affection, accepting his small kisses and the circles he drew against the bare skin of his hip, but eventually he pulled away, and set down the shirt in his hands. "You know I can’t do that. I have to go."

"No, you don’t. You can stay here. I’ll take care of you."

The smile Yeonjun gave him was pitiful, and it slowly dawned on Soobin that the younger boy thought he wasn’t being serious. "Hyung, don’t make it harder. I love what we have, but we can’t stay like this forever. It’s okay to let things change. And you…" His smile faltered a bit. "Well, maybe it won’t be so bad. We’ll still see each other."

How could he let things change? Everything was perfect. Yeonjun was all Soobin needed, but he wanted to walk away from him and pretend nothing had happened. Maybe come visit him if it was a passing thought. He didn’t want to be reduced to that. He thought he mattered more to him. He thought Yeonjun loved him.

"I mean it," he said, circling a hand around Yeonjun’s wrist. "Please…think about it."

"Hyung," Yeonjun tried to tug his wrist free, but Soobin held tight. "Why are you being like this all of a sudden? We’ve been talking about it for months." He gave up fighting his grip, and instead stared at him. "I thought you were happy for me."

Soobin wanted to be happy for him. But the twisted voice inside of him wanted to scream at Yeonjun for being so selfish. How could he possibly expect Soobin to be happy for him, when he was choosing to leave him behind?

"I just want you to know that you have choices," Soobin managed to say without being overwhelmed by all the other words he had to hold back. "You don’t have to go."

"I want to go," Yeonjun stated. Soobin wasn’t sure when the coffee table ended up between them, and had no idea when Yeonjun was able to distance himself so much.

"You seem excited," Soobin stated flatly.

"Of course I am. I got into the program of my dreams."

"Not about that." His voice came out sharp, cutting. "About leaving me."

Yeonjun’s mouth fell open, eyes hurt and confused. "Hyung, I’m not excited about that at all. But we can’t…you know it’s not reasonable."

Soobin stepped forward, around the edge of the table, as he pushed, "Why not? I could move closer to that part of the city. You could live with me, and I’d take you to school. You’d be fed, and housed, and-"

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Yeonjun interrupted, looking more and more angry by the second. "You’re not my fucking dad, Soobin, why are you trying to parent me?"

Silence fell over the room, sudden and cold. Yeonjun had never used his name like that before.

He did it to take power from him. And Soobin couldn’t afford that.

"I’m the closest thing you’ve got," he said coldly. "No other adult in your life cares about you."

Yeonjun’s eyes went wide. "Don’t…that’s not true." Then they narrowed, suddenly resolute, and he spat out bitterly, "I don’t need a caretaker either way. I’m an adult, and I can take care of myself."

Soobin snorted, cruel and derisive. "Of course, because you sound so grownup while you stand here and try to convince me that you’re an adult."

"I’m enough of an adult for you when you fuck me," Yeonjun hissed, and it felt like acid, hitting him right where he harbored all his insecurities. "So, I guess it only matters when it’s convenient for you, right? I’m an adult when you want to justify the fact that you’re fucked up, and I’m a child when you feel like I’m getting too independent for my own good. Is that what you’re telling me?"

He was right, and it made Soobin want to hurt him more. "Don’t be ridiculous, Yeonjun, of course that’s not what I’m saying. But if that’s what you really think of me, then maybe it’s best that you’re leaving after all."

Yeonjun stalled, unable to speak for a moment until he finally whispered, "You don’t mean that."

Soobin braced a hand on the table, fixing his expression into one of perfect calm. "No? What makes you so sure?"

"You love me," Yeonjun said, sounding as though he was trying to convince himself of it.

"I’ve never said that." And it was true. He’d never told Yeonjun that he loved him. He couldn’t, because deep down, he knew he shouldn’t.

"You never say anything," Yeonjun insisted, shoving his chest. Soobin didn’t budge, but let himself be used as a wall for Yeonjun to take his anger out on. "We’ve been together for months and I barely know a single damn thing about you. But I know that you love me. You don’t have to say it. I see it. I…I feel it."

His words broke the careful seal that he had constructed over his naivety, revealing so much of the twisted, confused mess that was his young heart. What a thing, to bare it to Soobin like this now.

Soobin tilted his head. He knew exactly how to get to Yeonjun, how to pierce his shell and make him doubt himself. "Then what kind of person does that make you?” Yeonjun faltered, mouth open but no sound coming out. “If you’re so convinced that I love you, why would you leave me without even considering how I feel? Doesn’t that make you cruel?"

Yeonjun’s fists slowly uncurled, flattening against Soobin’s chest instead as his anger deflated and his eyes shone with guilt. "I guess it does.”

The silence stretched between them, empty and crushing.

"I don’t really want to leave you, hyung," he confessed, voice trailing off, expecting Soobin to understand. "I just don’t know what else to do. Everything feels so hard and overwhelming, I feel like I have a thousand choices piled up and none of them are good, and you’re the only stable thing I have, but I’m afraid that if we try to keep this going, then I’ll mess something up and lose you in an even worse way than if we just...I don’t even know…" He crumbled, and caved, and left Soobin feeling sick but satisfied all at the same time.

With gentle hands, he pulled Yeonjun close, letting him bury his head in the crook of his shoulder. It was time to comfort him now. Remind him of why he chose Soobin in the first place. "You don’t have to know,” he soothed him. “Did you mean it, when you said you wanted to stay with me?”

Yeonjun nodded.

“You should’ve listened to me from the start," he said softly, carding his fingers through Yeonjun’s silky black hair. "Instead of picking a fight."

"I know," Yeonjun mumbled into Soobin’s shirt. "I’m sorry."

"That’s okay. I’m sorry I overreacted." He continued stroking Yeonjun’s hair, and after a while he asked, "Do you really want me to let you go? I will if you tell me to."

He wouldn’t. But Yeonjun needed to hear him say it, and believe that he was telling the truth.

Yeonjun sighed, and hugged him tighter. "No. Please don’t. Not ever, okay? We’ll work it out."

Soobin smiled, and pressed his nose to Yeonjun’s hair. "Okay."

"I just…" Yeonjun pulled back enough to look him in the eyes. "I just need a little space. To get acquainted at school and stuff. Would that…is that okay with you?"

He didn’t like it, but he understood. “That’s okay.” Yeonjun seemed to be at a loss for what to say, and it only now dawned on Soobin that he might have taken things too far. “I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.”

Yeonjun almost broke up with him, and over what? Convenience? Ease? Ridiculous little things. They didn’t matter. He had every right to be upset, but Yeonjun responded so delicately, threatening to shatter, and it scared him into backing down.

Shaking his head, Yeonjun looked near tears. He seemed younger than usual, and desperate to be understood. “No, hyung, I really didn’t mean it. I don’t even know why I said it. I’m just stressed from figuring everything out, and it made me unreasonable.”

“It happens,” Soobin replied as if he forgave him. He wasn’t sure yet if he did. But decisions didn’t need to be made so fast. “Do you need help carrying that to the car?”

“Sure,” Yeonjun agreed softly, and so they both took a box of his clothes. Soobin let Yeonjun lead the way down the hall to the elevator, and out the door to the parking garage.

Once the boxes were loaded in the back, they were silent for a few moments. Then, Soobin glanced up at Yeonjun, caught his gaze and held it, and said quietly, “You’ll call?”

“Of course.”

“Tomorrow?”

Yeonjun shut the trunk and came around the other side to stand beside him. Slowly, he circled his arms around Soobin, and Soobin cupped the back of his head, fitting him perfectly against his chest. Yeonjun felt warm and safe, and he smelled like Soobin’s shampoo. Over the past few months, he had spent more time at his apartment than in his own home. And now Soobin had no idea when he would see him again. “I’ll call every day if you really want.”

The words tickled, whispered against his neck, and he realized he couldn’t ask that of him. “Call me when you want. I’ll be here.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun mumbled, and after a few more seconds, he pulled away from him. “I should get going. Beomgyu’s waiting for me.”

Soobin nodded. “Drive safe.”

“Talk to you soon,” Yeonjun promised over his shoulder as he got into the car, and gave Soobin one last wave through the rearview mirror before disappearing around the corner and down the ramp.

Even his reflection captivated him, and Soobin stood there for a while thinking about how they met in the summer. Now it was almost summer again, the wind cool against his warm cheeks and holding the scent of city rain, and they were saying goodbye.

Not forever, he reminded himself, even though the threat of even a few months without Yeonjun felt like a season without sun. In comparison, their winter had been beautiful. A precious secret planted in snow, nourished into something alive and flourishing, something he couldn’t let go.

Maybe it would be good for him to practice independence. He didn’t want his last words to Yeonjun to be the ones he said upstairs, heavy-handed manipulation born out of his own desperate need to keep Yeonjun by his side. This time, he was lucky. Yeonjun forgave him. He even took the consequences of it onto his own shoulders, and let Soobin have the prize of being the gracious one when Yeonjun made more sacrifices for him than he could ever repay.

He had said awful things to him with the sole purpose of making Yeonjun love him more. On paper, it didn’t make any sense. But because he knew Yeonjun, and knew Yeonjun didn’t believe he was deserving of genuine love, he also knew he had Yeonjun in the palm of his hand. Gentle words and tenderness when he behaved. A cold tone and cruel reminders when he stepped out of line.

Yeonjun had everything: material wealth, friends, good looks, and the promise of a successful future. The only things he was missing happened to be the only things Soobin could be. A lover and a role model. Mixing the two spelled disaster, tipped the scales too far in Soobin’s favor. Yeonjun truly believed Soobin might be the only person in the world who really cared about him. And sometimes, Soobin believed it too. He wanted to be that person. On occasion, he even liked the power it gave him.

If things were different, he would have lost Yeonjun today. Wasn’t it a good thing, then, that Soobin understood him so well? Otherwise they would both be heartbroken. Maybe in time, Yeonjun would even be grateful to him for saving their relationship.

It was alright if he never realized it. As long as something like it never happened again.

Chapter Text

The loneliness cut like a knife, sharper now that Soobin knew what it felt like to have that blank, frigid void filled. And so he bled. Before, he barely ever noticed the absence of other people in his life, so oblivious to what he didn’t have. The emptiness feasted on him unopposed for years, and Soobin allowed it, not knowing any better.

Now, left alone with nothing but painful reminders, that knife sliced into him, colder and deeper than it ever had before.

It had been over two weeks since Yeonjun left, and they hadn’t exchanged a single word in all that time, leaving Soobin to reflect. After sitting alone for so long, he realized just how many mistakes he had made during their last conversation. He understood why Yeonjun was upset. Saying he had been too harsh, or that he overreacted, was a critical understatement of the situation, and it took him time to realize that. In the moment, his temper had gotten the better of him, and he lashed out at Yeonjun in the most effective and hurtful ways he could think of.

Knowing Yeonjun’s insecurities didn’t give him the right to exploit them.

Yeonjun had no reason, or even any obligation, to forgive him after that. And when a week passed, Soobin was convinced that he had lost him for good.

So it was understandable, then, why he felt so elated when his phone lit up with a familiar name calling.

He sat at home grading essays, but quickly pushed them aside and answered, “Hello?”

“Hi.” Yeonjun’s sweet voice was the purest breath of fresh air, even tinged with anxiety as it sounded now, and Soobin turned his phone’s volume up as high as it would go.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Well, I mean, no. Not really. I’m not sure yet, actually, to be honest. I’m kind of freaking out.”

Immediately concerned, Soobin rushed to ask, “What’s wrong?” Was Yeonjun hurt? Had there been a mix-up with his school? Did he need help?

Yeonjun sighed, and after a moment, he said, “It’s my roommate.”

Right. He chose to move into the dorms, even though Soobin heavily advised against it, knowing the most illicit things on college campuses happened in freshman dorm rooms.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“I literally don’t think I can share a room with him for a semester, let alone a year.” Yeonjun sounded nervous and panicky, as if he had been paired with a demon or something.

“Is he being rude? Acting strange towards you?” A thousand possibilities raced through Soobin’s mind, and he was already half-convinced that he should go down there and help Yeonjun sort it out.

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m sure he’s a great guy, probably…?”

“You don’t sound sure,” he reflected.

“It’s just…he’s weird.”

At this point, he desperately needed more specific information. If Yeonjun moved in with someone who could hurt him, they needed to get his room changed immediately. “Weird how?”

“I think he’s a gamer,” Yeonjun eventually confessed, voice doubtful. “His shelves are lined with like, anime figures or something, and he put Pokemon posters on the walls.”

Torn between exasperation and relief, Soobin said carefully, “That’s not all that weird, Yeonjun-ah. People are allowed to have interests.”

“No, but like his bed is literally covered in plushies. He still wears braces. And I think he’s from America? He speaks good Korean, but he definitely looks like a foreigner. I don’t know, he’s barely said three words to me. I tried to start a conversation with him earlier and he bolted from the room, saying something about going to the library. We haven’t even started classes yet. But I’ve been here for over a week and I can’t get a read on him, it’s just weird.”

From Yeonjun’s initial tone of voice, Soobin truly thought he was in danger, or something akin to it. But this was much more manageable, and it dawned on him that even though it seemed like such a small thing, this was Yeonjun’s world, and things like this were still important.

“Have you considered asking him about his hobbies?”

“Yeah, but then what do I say? What if he starts talking about League of Legends or something, and I just completely zone out? I’ll look like a dick.”

“Just be honest,” Soobin advised, trying not to laugh. “Say that you don’t know much about it, but it’s cool that he has interests he’s so passionate about.”

“He’s double-majoring.” Yeonjun sounded even more intimidated by that. “Digital media and some sort of mathematics. There is absolutely nothing for us to talk about.”

“You don’t have to be best friends with him, you know,” he finally pointed out.

“Yes, I do,” Yeonjun stressed. “I’m going to be seeing him more than anyone else. Sharing a room. He’s going to know everything about me, all my weird habits and shit, of course we need to be friends. Otherwise he could blackmail me or something.”

Soobin found his predicament more amusing the longer he talked. “And exactly what scenario do you imagine when he’s blackmailing you? Being the delinquent that you are, of course, and all the horrible things he’ll have to hold against you.”

Yeonjun hesitated. “Okay, I don’t appreciate the sarcasm, and I don’t actually know what he’d blackmail me with. Or why. But I would rather avoid the situation altogether.”

“I’m sure he’ll warm up to you with time,” Soobin reassured him, although secretly, he wouldn’t mind if Yeonjun’s roommate ignored him forever. Better than the guy trying anything else. “Most likely, he’s just introverted and adjusting to everything.”

“I’m not all that hard to adjust to,” Yeonjun complained, and his voice took on that cute whining tone that Soobin had missed so much. “I’m literally the nicest person in the world.”

With a sigh, he pointed out, “I know this may surprise you, but lots of people find you intimidating when they first meet you.” He had heard it enough from the other boys at school over the previous year.

“What? How?”

“You have very striking features. You’re confident, and tall, and you carry yourself well. It’s probably a lot to take in at once for new people.”

It was certainly a lot for him when he first saw Yeonjun.

“Huh.” Digesting the information, Yeonjun said after a moment, “I guess I’ll just wait it out then and see what happens. How are you?”

Surprised now that the spotlight of conversation shone on him, he replied simply, “Alright. I'm a bit tired. The first half of the school year is always the hardest for me.”

“Why is that?”

Soobin didn’t think it was all that interesting of a subject, but Yeonjun sounded oddly engaged. “Well, we’re in the time now when all of the introductory units wrap up, and students tend to be less motivated come summer even as the material gets more difficult. I have to start preparing everyone for mid-term exams, even though everyone is only thinking about their upcoming break. Last year, I got to skip most of this at the academy since I came in halfway through, but it’s still tiring. I would rather be outside enjoying the weather, too, in all honesty.”

“I’ve never really considered the possibility that the teachers might not want to be there, either,” Yeonjun mused. “It must be kind of frustrating.”

“You become accustomed to it,” Soobin replied, although he felt a smile on his face. “It’s more important that the students are learning.”

“I didn’t do a lot of learning last year.”

“That’s your own fault.”

“You were walking around being handsome all day. It was distracting, take some responsibility.”

He missed bantering with Yeonjun like this. “At least now you have no reason to not score full marks in all of your subjects. What literature class are you taking?”

“My standard gen-ed and an editorial class that qualifies for my major.”

“And what exactly am I supposed to do if your new lit professor also walks around being handsome all day? Are you going to trade me in?”

Yeonjun laughed, protesting, “I don’t just like you because you’re handsome, hyung. I’m not that shallow.”

“I know you’re not,” he softly agreed, and it was true. Yeonjun liked him for more complex reasons- what they were, Soobin couldn’t say. But his position was mostly secure. “When do your classes start?”

“Monday.”

“Are you excited?”

“Yeah. I think so. It’ll be cool to be in a class that’s not just made up of the same guys I’ve known for four years.”

Soobin waited for an opening, somewhere he could suggest that they meet up, but it just didn’t feel natural. “It should be a nice change.” Then, he hesitated before asking, “Is that all you wanted to talk to me about? Your roommate?”

A moment of silence stretched over the line before Yeonjun said, “That was why I called, yeah. I didn’t know who else to talk to about it and you always have a good perspective on things. You help me see the stuff that I usually can’t.”

“Oh.” He didn’t know if the reflection pleased him or not.

“Maybe after I’ve gotten adjusted to my dorm, and classes, and everything, we could do something…?”

Relief flowed through his veins like cool water. Yeonjun wasn’t getting rid of him. “That would be nice. What would you like to do?”

“I’m not sure yet. I’ll think about it, though, and let you know. You’ve planned all of our dates so it’s my turn, okay?”

He smiled. It was a sweet gesture. “Okay,” he replied softly. “Just let me know.”

“I will,” Yeonjun promised, and he sounded genuine.

“Good luck with your roommate. Enjoy your classes.”

“Thanks, hyung. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“Bye,” Soobin said softly before hanging up. He wished he could tell Yeonjun more things. But the truth was, Soobin’s life just wasn’t all that interesting without him.

That was alright. At least, it was a fact he could live with, although it would kill him to admit out loud. Before knowing Yeonjun, he hadn’t any grasp of how dull his existence truly was. Maybe he should take up a hobby. At the thought, he imagined getting back into photography or writing, but only one muse came to mind. What could he take photos of except Yeonjun? What would he draw inspiration from rather than him? In comparison, all the wonders of the world felt bleak and inopportune, as nothing else had ever shaken his life in such a way. Wasn’t it unhealthy for him to become so occupied by such a simple interest?

He had never been in a relationship where he loathed all the time he spent alone, usually coveting his privacy like a priceless jewel. But he had the strangest notion that he wouldn’t mind sharing every moment with Yeonjun, and maybe it was because they simply fit together so well.

Perhaps he had grown accustomed to it, all those hours spent together in class, and was only now just beginning to realize in his absence how much he relied on them to get through his day. Even when they didn’t speak, even when he just had the ability to see his smile, those hours were precious.

Learning to live without them would be unexpectedly painful, and even worse considering that he had absolutely no idea what Yeonjun got up to without him. As soon as classes started, he would be meeting other people, making new friends, and forgetting about him save for the few times he crossed Yeonjun’s mind. Wasn’t that the point of college? To get as far away from everything you knew and start over?

He didn’t want Yeonjun to start over. What if he began reinventing himself and exploring the greater world, and realized that Soobin wasn’t what he wanted at all?

That wouldn’t do.

But it was an impossible feat, keeping himself ever present on Yeonjun’s mind when he was constantly seeing and learning new things.

Then again, the point of growing up was to expand one’s own horizons. Soobin had faulted Yeonjun for his narrow worldview before, and it would make him a hypocrite to demand he keep it that way for his sake. The more mature Yeonjun became, the easier it would be for them to move past all the barriers separating them.

So, the best thing to do was simply to give him time. The strongest and loveliest of flowers needed space to grow. If forced to share with another sprouting too close, they would wither and die, suffocated by the needs of the other. Soobin didn’t want that. It would do neither of them any good.

All he could do was stay rooted for him, he supposed. He could provide a sanctuary, somewhere stable and secure. College was hectic. He would need somewhere to get away and decompress. That, at least, was something Soobin could give him, and he could do it without being so paranoid. Yeonjun showed no genuine signs of wanting to leave him. Not even that, but he very clearly still liked Soobin even with the newfound distance between them.

That distance was making him unreasonable, and he had no excuse for his own paranoia. Yeonjun hadn’t done anything to earn it.

Soobin took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second to reason with himself. It was becoming easier for him these days to get worked up over nothing, a trait of his that he hadn’t seen in years. He thought he had curbed it a long time ago.

But he had acknowledged before that something about Yeonjun made him feel young again, and he was beginning to see that it wasn’t always such a blessing. His youth had been turbulent, marked by bursts of rebellion that did him no good in the long run, and lulls of reluctant forfeit that he still wasn’t proud of. When he was young, he would be ruthlessly stubborn, getting into fights with friends and family only to eventually cave when holding his ground became too difficult. A hard-headed pushover proved to be a bad combination. It’s how he landed himself in med school, swearing over and over again that he wouldn’t go, and even running away from home right before graduation. Only to give in when he got too homesick, resigned to a major he had no interest in.

It was only with age that he gained the courage to change his mind, and for once, holding onto something he felt passionate about, he felt like he made his own decision.

With age, the passion settled into a less intense flame, more that of a persistent candle than a roaring blaze. It felt more peaceful. It granted him clarity, and the ability to reflect on the mistakes he made growing up. He had thought that feeling would only increase as he got older. However, nowadays, when faced with those same precarious choices that forced him to take a stance, the fire once again began to feel the way it had when he was a teenager. More immediate, somehow, and harder to look away from.

The feeling reminded him of Yeonjun, if he was being honest. He saw that same look in him, wholly intense and devoted to that singular thing, but Yeonjun’s burned more like a storm. There was no trace of giving in with Yeonjun. He had the strength that Soobin lacked at his age, and it seemed to burn endlessly. It was consuming, so much that Soobin felt as though he were falling into it, and strangely, he didn’t mind.

He liked the urgency of their relationship, the fear that he would never be able to replicate what they had. How could he, when so many things had to align in just the right way for them to be together?

Maybe that was why he couldn’t let him go.

Every time he considered putting an end to it, and he often did because that had been his plan all along, Yeonjun reentered his sphere of thought and longing with such bright grace. And the idea of giving him up to someone else left Soobin with such a sharp pain that he recalled exactly why he wanted him.

What they had was beautiful. And it was cruel to cut a blossom during bloom.

───────✧❁✧───────

“Hey,” Soobin said as soon as he spotted Yeonjun, tucked away under the umbrella-topped table with a stylus in his hand, balancing a tablet on his knee.

Yeonjun immediately looked up, and the prettiest smile appeared on his face. “There you are. I was beginning to think you stood me up.”

“When have I ever given you cause to worry about something like that?” Soobin inquired, lightly teasing although he really wanted to know the answer. He pulled out the mesh metal chair opposite him and sat, crossing his legs neatly so they would fit in the space provided.

“Never,” Yeonjun admitted, still wearing a smile. But he watched Soobin with a familiar intensity, his writing completely forgotten. “You look good.”

Soobin had worn some of the clothes Yeonjun picked out for him over the months that they were frequently out together. They were interwoven into his wardrobe now, so much so to the point where Soobin didn’t even think about it when he got dressed this morning, adopting the style as his own. He liked that Yeonjun saw a change and complimented it, as unintentional as it had been.

Yeonjun, for his own part, looked…well, sexy, he supposed, but not in an overt way. This was the first time they were seeing each other since Yeonjun started college, and all Soobin could think about was how much older he looked. He was already thinning from the university diet, certainly not eating enough because that’s what college students did, and those sparks of confidence that used to glimmer in his eyes were now fully established. He shone with it, perfectly at ease sitting there before Soobin even showed up. It was as though he had begun to command his own presence, an aura that he started developing while in high school, but only now permanently surrounded him.

Perhaps it had something to do with the season, or maybe his major, but even his style had evolved in the two months since Soobin had last seen him. Whereas he used to be fond of sweaters and jeans, very student chic, today he wore wide-legged athletic pants, heavy platform sneakers, and a stylized t-shirt with cutouts in the back. That favorite silver necklace of his rested against his chest. His hair looked slightly longer, in need of a trim. A thin gray jacket was draped over his chair and a pair of cat-eye glasses that Soobin had never seen before perched on his head.

He looked simultaneously more masculine and more feminine than before. It perplexed him, but attracted him as well.

“You got glasses,” was all he managed to say in response.

Yeonjun sighed. “Don’t remind me. My first week into class, I realized I couldn’t see anything. I kept having to take pictures of what my professors were writing just so I could take notes. Beomgyu bullied me about it for another two weeks, so I finally caved.” Then, in a voice that gave away entirely too much, Yeonjun added, “They're okay. It was hard to find a design I liked, but I don’t mind these. I think they’re kind of cool. I can see, at least, which is an improvement.”

He wanted Soobin to compliment him. Led him to it, and he was so cute, thinking Soobin wouldn’t notice and that his words were subtle. “Let me see them on,” he said, faintly amused.

“I mean, you can…” Yeonjun almost sounded convincing in his hesitation, although he slipped his glasses on and immediately gave Soobin one of his signature coy looks. The glasses fit his face well, he supposed, and the style itself was fitting, but he preferred Yeonjun without them.

“They’re nice,” Soobin replied with what he guessed must be a lackluster response because Yeonjun frowned.

“I might get different ones,” he said with a shrug, and took them off, replacing them on his head.

Did Soobin’s opinion matter that much to him? Only a minute ago, Yeonjun was saying that the glasses were cool, and one of the only designs he actually liked. But as soon as Soobin didn’t share his feelings, he considered changing them out.

“I like them,” he amended his original statement. “They suit your face.” Yeonjun seemed pleased by the change. “Although, I have a feeling you’re going to wear them far more often as an accessory piece on your head than for what they’re actually meant for.”

“If I had cool sunglasses I’d wear those on my head instead. But my favorite pair broke when I was moving all my stuff, so yeah, you’re probably right.”

Soobin smiled. He missed him. “Do we need to get you new sunglasses?”

Yeonjun pursed his lips, considering for a second before deciding, “I’ll probably just get these frames with tinted lenses. I don’t want to go through the whole process all over again.”

“That’s very sensible of you.”

Another compliment that seemed to please Yeonjun, and he said, “You left your glasses at home.”

Soobin gave him a look, pulling Yeonjun’s iced coffee towards him so he could take a sip. “I thought I was more handsome without them.” The coffee tasted bitter and harsh, but it was a moment of cool relief on what had easily started shaping up to be a hot summer day, so he couldn’t complain.

“You’re not more handsome,” Yeonjun clarified as if he’d been meaning to clear it up for a while now. “You’re always handsome. It’s just nice to see your face.”

“I feel like you’re softening me up for something,” Soobin replied, only half-joking. It had been far too long since someone last complimented him, and he had forgotten what it felt like since Yeonjun left.

And Yeonjun, always graceful and sweet, shook his head and wore a fond smile. “No, hyung. I just miss you.”

It hit him then, rough and abrupt, how empty he felt without Yeonjun around. Yes, he had been aware of the feeling, reckoned with the odd void he left behind, and endured moments of intense longing for him. But he compartmentalized those moments; he missed Yeonjun because of something he did, or because of the way he looked, or how he felt. Things that could be brushed off and dealt with.

But sitting here with him for the first time in two months, he realized it wasn’t any specific thing at all. It was just him. Soobin needed him to feel complete. And he did now that they were together, slowly becoming whole while they talked.

While he sat there wrestling with his feelings, a waiter came by. Soobin had forgotten entirely that they were there to get breakfast, and it took him a moment to register that he was being asked for his order.

“Do you want an iced latte?” Yeonjun asked, and Soobin nodded. Yeonjun confirmed his drink order with the waiter, and asked if they could have a bit longer with the menu. Once the waiter was gone, Soobin realized he’d let the moment get away from him, lost in thought as he had been.

What a thing, to see Yeonjun direct a situation, even one so small, like that. Soobin would have never guessed something like it would happen when they first met.

“Thanks,” he said, taking the menu Yeonjun handed to him. “I’m sorry for zoning out like that, I didn’t get much sleep last night.”

“Is something on your mind?”

He shrugged. It was hard to say, really. Everything lingered on his mind all the time. Last night in particular, several scenarios played out in his head regarding their date today. In some of them, the date went fine. He got to see Yeonjun. They talked, and it was pleasant, and then they parted ways. In others, the date went poorly, Yeonjun ended their relationship saying he wanted to move on for university, and left Soobin utterly alone. In his favorite ones, the date went extremely well, their romance felt entirely rekindled, and he took Yeonjun home.

So in short, he supposed he stayed awake all night because the thought of seeing Yeonjun again made him anxious, in both the best and worst ways possible.

“Hyung, I know how you get when you’re thinking about something. Sometimes it’s easier to talk about it, you know.”

Intrigued, Soobin inquired, “Is that so? How do I get?”

Yeonjun sounded steady as he replied, “Obsessive. You think about the same thing for hours, to the point where it distracts you from all the things happening in the real world. I think you’d feel better if you spent less time in your head and more time talking it through with someone else.”

Faintly impressed, and also slightly put off by his observation. Soobin asked, “And who would you recommend I talk to?”

“Me,” Yeonjun said evenly, taking a sip from his coffee. “I’m a very good listener.”

It was an amusing prospect, the idea of him sitting Yeonjun down only to talk about nothing but Yeonjun for hours. It was obvious that, as much as Yeonjun may think he knew what went on in Soobin’s head, he had no idea the scope of just how many thoughts were about him.

“I think you’d get quite bored after a while.”

Yeonjun appeared to take this as a challenge. “No, I wouldn’t. I like hearing you talk. You never talk about anything that actually matters to you.”

“Yes, I do.” Didn’t he?

His latte arrived at that moment, and he realized he still hadn’t even looked at the menu. So, when Yeonjun ordered a quaint, fruit-heavy breakfast that sounded half decent, he just asked for the same thing. He didn’t really care what he ate, honestly.

“It’s sweet that you think so, but it’s not true.” Yeonjun wore a bit of an amused look as he said, “We’ve been going out for over six months and I barely know a single thing about you.”

That surprised Soobin. Out of everyone he knew, he would immediately say that Yeonjun knew the most about him, apart maybe from his mother and brother.

Although, he didn’t really tell Yeonjun about any trivial things. The small things that made up a person. He knew a few of Yeonjun’s, things he’d learned more from watching than from telling. Yeonjun liked animals, not just the small, cute ones, but the strange misunderstood ones as well. He used to attend an art academy, and from what Soobin had seen, he was quite good at sketching. He was born in the city, and had family overseas. He preferred foreign music, always wanting to hook his phone up to the car rather than listen to the radio. His favorite color changed every week.

Yeonjun didn’t know many of those things about Soobin. It wasn’t really fair.

“Alright,” he conceded. “What do you want to know?”

Yeonjun lit up like he had just been given an incredible gift, one he had been anticipating for a while, and asked, “Where are you from?”

A very simple question, but it was probably better to start with the basics. “Ansan.”

“So just outside of Seoul.”

Soobin rolled his eyes. “That’s something only a person born in Seoul would say. No, not outside of Seoul. Ansan. It’s a beautiful city.”

Yeonjun laughed and nodded. “Okay, got it. You’ll have to take me sometime. So, why did you move to Seoul, then?”

He took a drink from his latte, and it was far more pleasant than Yeonjun’s cold cup of bitterness. “University. I actually wanted to teach at my old high school, but after I graduated, things didn’t really work out that way. I got an offer in Seoul, and so I stayed put.”

“Do you like it here?”

He considered the question. It wasn’t home, it never felt like home, although he’d been in Seoul for nearly half his life now. Still, there were things about the city that drew him in. A sort of brightness, the feeling that even in the darkest hours of night, all of the lights were still vibrant and alive, shining on the river’s surface. There was a restfulness in the mania, something he felt like was only specific to Seoul. When he was young, he would go to the park nearest his campus at night and just sit out under the lights. He couldn’t really see the stars, but the orange haze that permanently blanketed the sky felt safe and familiar, and he liked listening to the sounds of the city.

“Considering I’ve stayed here for half my life, some part of me must like it,” he finally settled on.

“Does your family still live in Ansan?”

Soobin nodded. “My parents moved to a smaller house only a few blocks away after I left, and my brother lives close by with his wife and two kids.”

“I’ve never heard you talk about your brother,” Yeonjun noted.

He shrugged. “There isn’t much to say now that we’re both adults, I guess, but I used to look up to him a lot when I was younger. He’s three years older than me. He took good care of me when we were kids.”

Yeonjun made a face, somewhere between wistful and pouting. “When I was younger, I would always ask my mom for a sibling. I think I just wanted someone to share in…everything…with. And someone to take care of. But now I’m kind of glad I’m an only child. I don’t think I would want anyone else to have to grow up in that house.”

Their childhoods couldn’t be more different. Soobin grew up with two loving, if not somewhat distant, parents. His family wasn’t poor, but they didn’t have a lot of money to spare. In his brother, he had someone to lean on when things got hard, but he was also constantly compared to him.

From what he had gathered, Yeonjun’s parents weren’t ever really happy together, and that seemed to have affected him a lot. They didn’t pay much attention to him, and he was probably right in saying he wanted a sibling because he needed someone to understand what he was going through. On the other side of things, he had been born wealthy and special, while Soobin had felt painfully average all his life.

Yeonjun had a nice house. It was empty and cold. Soobin had a small home. And it didn’t hold any bad memories.

His own curiosity got the better of him. “Do you ever hear from your father?”

Yeonjun raised his eyebrows, but didn’t shut the topic down like Soobin expected him to. “I hear from him, yeah. Mostly incoherent texts from nowhere. He tells me little things about his life as if I’m going to care, usually tries to get me to check out whatever new religion he’s decided to adopt that month, and always makes sure that he asks for money. I wish he wouldn’t text at all.”

Soobin wanted to say something helpful, but he really didn’t know what there was to say. He wasn’t even sure why he asked, knowing he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it. But maybe Yeonjun saw the lost look on his face, because he just shrugged.

“What about your parents?”

Another simple question for him, far more simple than the one he asked Yeonjun. “My mother calls often. I think she gets lonely. My father has always been a very reserved man, and so they don’t share much. And while my brother lives close by, he’s occupied with his own family and life. So, that leaves me, I suppose, although I never have anything very interesting to share with her. But that’s alright, because usually she talks and I listen, and it works out well enough for our relationship to be just fine.”

They had spoken recently, just the other day, and once again Soobin did his best to dodge all sorts of hints about women, dating, and marriage, but it felt harder than usual.

Yeonjun frowned. “Why just fine, if you’re close to her?”

“I don’t think she can see me as a successful adult until I’m married,” he answered honestly, and watched Yeonjun’s face fall. “Oh.”

It was strange, because he supposed Yeonjun had a right to be upset on his behalf, considering he was the reason Soobin wasn’t with anyone else, but he also took it too personally. Soobin still wouldn’t be married now even if they had never met. Most likely.

Then again, it wasn’t completely out of the realm of possibility for him to simply give up and cave to the demands of his parents. He wouldn’t put it past his earlier self to marry a woman he didn’t love just to appease them. But it wasn’t something he would do now, when he knew what it felt like to enjoy being in a relationship with someone. It wouldn’t be possible; he couldn’t endure it.

“I don’t really care how she sees me,” Soobin admitted in the hopes that it would ease Yeonjun’s guilt. “I think I used to care a lot more, but it doesn’t matter so much now.”

“Why is that?”

Yeonjun looked striking as he asked, the sun shining in his brown eyes and turning his skin soft and golden, and Soobin smiled. “I have other people to impress.”

A smile touched Yeonjun’s lips, and their food arrived before he could say anything else. He had forgotten that this was a restaurant Yeonjun explicitly mentioned liking, but remembered as he ate. The food was light and refreshing, fit for the season, and he thought overall, it was a pleasant date.

“Can I ask more questions?” Yeonjun inquired. “They’re easy ones, I promise.”

Somewhat endeared by their exercise now, Soobin nodded. “Go ahead.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Really?”

“Just answer, it’s important.”

“I thought you said the questions were easy,” he pointed out, and Yeonjun narrowed his eyes in that sharp way that Soobin loved, attempting to look fierce and stern while Soobin just thought he looked like a particularly petulant cat. The kind that intentionally causes problems just for the hell of it, and then rebukes you for being indignant.

“I said they were easy, not insignificant.”

“Okay, yellow.”

Yeonjun gave him another look.

“What?”

“Are you sure?”

Confused, he replied, “Yes, I think so?”

“Since when?”

“Since…a long time, I don’t know.” Then, he read Yeonjun’s expression more thoroughly, and concluded in disbelief, “You don’t believe me.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but okay,” Yeonjun confirmed. “Yellow. Sure.”

“I cannot begin to fathom what is so surprising to you about that.”

“Nothing, nothing,” Yeonjun muttered, and seemed very much like he wanted to move on. Soobin found it kind of funny- only Yeonjun would have such a strong opinion about someone else’s favorite color. “Um, okay, what about pets?”

“Pets?”

“Do you have any?”

Soobin raised his eyebrows. “You’ve been to my apartment. Several times.”

“Hey, you could be hiding a secret lizard, or something, I wouldn’t know. Or you could have a dog back home that you really love.”

“I don’t,” he said, and Yeonjun pouted. “Okay, do you want any?”

Soobin considered it; he had thought about the question before, had even seriously considered getting a pet when he last moved apartments. “I like unconventional pets, so it’s never seemed realistic.”

Yeonjun grew more curious, and scooted closer in his chair as he said, “Define unconventional.”

“Like racoons, and hedgehogs, and rabbits.” Then, he paused before adding, “I like puppies, too.”

Yeonjun appeared to be very happy with his answer. “Okay, I get why you can’t have the others, but why not a puppy?”

“I live in a small apartment,” Soobin reminded him. “They’re loud and need more space to run around than I can provide.”

“What about a cat, then?”

“I already have a pet cat,” he informed him matter-of-factly. “He’s mean. He only comes over when he wants, gives me affection on his own terms, and eats all my food.”

It took Yeonjun a second to get the joke, but once he did, his eyes went wide and he immediately began defending himself. “Hey! I’m nice!” he objected. “And I only accidentally ate most of your food once, okay, it was your fault for not shopping enough.”

“Mhm,” Soobin agreed placatingly, doing his best not to laugh. “Anything else on your twenty-questions list?”

“No, I don’t want to know anymore,” Yeonjun replied, on the verge of sulking. He pushed his plate away, half-eaten, and for a moment, Soobin thought he was genuinely upset.

“I was just kidding,” he said gently, and reached out for his hand. Yeonjun let him take it, and Soobin was careful not to grab his wrist, still feeling guilty for the way he had acted the last time they were together. “If you came over more, I’d be sure to have a fully-stocked fridge every time.”

Yeonjun laced their fingers together before informing him, “You can’t plan a date, it’s not your turn.”

He frowned. “Isn’t it, though? This is your turn right now, and then next time it should be mine.”

“No, this is my pre-date date. This is the date I’m taking you on before taking you on our real date because I miss you.”

“Oh.” And then, because it wasn’t a sufficient reply at all, he asked, “Wait, what?”

Yeonjun looked almost offended, replying, “I hope you didn’t think all I had up my sleeve was breakfast.”

“I like breakfast.”

“Sure, but it’s not all that romantic. I have a real date in mind, but it has to be on a specific day, and I wanted to see you before then. That is, of course, assuming you want to go on another date with me.”

“Yeonjun, we’ve been going out for months.”

“I know, but I thought…” His voice grew softer, slightly embarrassed as he admitted, “I thought maybe you might not want to anymore. After our last conversation, you haven’t really…talked to me at all.”

“I was giving you space…”

He thought that was what Yeonjun wanted, what he had explicitly asked him for.

“I know that.” Yeonjun clearly didn’t want to sound hypocritical, and he squeezed Soobin’s hand. “And I’m really grateful. But I guess I didn’t want as much as you gave me, if that makes sense. That’s why I kept calling…”

“I see,” he said. They had been harboring the same anxieties- maybe while he lay awake wondering if Yeonjun still wanted him at all, Yeonjun lay awake in his own bed worried about the same thing.

“So you’re not bored of me?”

The idea that he could ever be bored of Yeonjun was laughable. What an absurd insecurity for him to have- Soobin to this day couldn’t understand what about him would possibly keep Yeonjun interested, and he sat here asking if he was the boring one.

“I’m never going to get bored of you,” Soobin replied honestly. “And I can only hope that it will take you a long time to get bored of me.”

“I’m not going to,” Yeonjun said quietly, once again sounding insecure. Soobin knew what it was. Ever since Yeonjun had blurted out that he loved him, he had been incredibly careful not to say anything overly romantic in front of Soobin again.

He didn’t mind that Yeonjun was in love with him, if it was even true. To be fair, however, he didn’t believe it, either. Yeonjun simply wasn’t old enough to fall in love. He could be deceived by the feeling, thinking it had him in its grip, but he didn’t really know. He wouldn’t for many years. That was alright. Soobin still liked that he thought so, that he thought that way about him.

“Have some more,” Soobin encouraged, changing the topic and pushing Yeonjun’s plate back towards him. “You’ve barely touched your food, I thought you loved this place.”

Yeonjun shook his head. “I have a bit of a stomach ache. I’ll take it home.”

Concerned, he asked, “Do we need to go? I can pick you up some medicine if you’d like.”

“No, no, it’s not a big deal.” Yeonjun looked alarmed, and quickly tried to smooth over his worries. “I worked out this morning, sometimes my muscles cramp afterwards.”

“Oh, I see.” It sounded perfectly reasonable.

“Do you want to…go somewhere else after this, though?”

“Sure.” Anything that let him spend more time with Yeonjun was fine by him. “Where would you like to go?”

“Literally anywhere. Although preferably somewhere where I can kiss you.”

Soobin, apart from wishing he would learn to keep his voice down, secretly agreed with his sentiment and said, “We can go back to my place if you want.”

Pretending to be scandalized, Yeonjun remarked, “Propositioning me at eleven in the morning, you really are a rebel.”

“I’m not propositioning you,” Soobin defended himself, wondering if he’d gone too far, but Yeonjun just laughed.

“No, please, continue to proposition me. I like it.”

“Now you’re making me want to take back my invitation.”

“That’s a shame,” Yeonjun said, glancing up when their waiter came by and handing him his card. “Considering I’m apparently your mean cat, which means I get to come and go as I please.”

“I regret drawing that comparison.”

“Too late now,” Yeonjun replied cheerfully. “You’re taking me home.”

Soobin very much wanted to take him home, and everything that came along with it. He really didn’t care what time it was. Once they paid, they walked together back to his car, and Soobin didn’t even mind when Yeonjun stretched his long legs out against the dashboard, preferring the view over a clean car.

“You look really nice today,” he said softly, realizing he had meant to say it earlier.

Yeonjun made the prettiest face whenever Soobin complimented him, practically glowing. “Thanks. I’m trying out something new. Athleisure is a big deal right now in the industry, which is good, actually, since it’s summer and I work out most days anyway.”

“Do you still dance?”

“Not really. But Beomgyu’s majoring in music theory, so I’m over in their department a lot. It’s fun, but a different vibe than what I’m looking for. I think I chose the right major. Beomgyu’s dating a guy right now, I think he wants to be a producer, and I hang out with them on weekends. It’s very third-wheel of me, but they’re chill and it gives me something to do.” Then, pursing his lips in annoyance, Yeonjun said, “I keep trying to invite my roommate but he’s really socially awkward.”

Soobin had entirely forgotten about Yeonjun’s odd roommate. “Why do you want to invite him, then?”

“Because he’s cool when it’s just the two of us. New people make him nervous, which is why he was being so weird when we first met. Sorry about that call, by the way, I don’t know why I was freaking out so much. But he’s really friendly once you know him, and decently funny, too. So, I want him and Beomgyu to be friends, but Kai keeps turning me down whenever I offer to introduce them.”

The complexities within a group of teenagers’ social lives didn’t really interest him, but he tried to listen well. “That’s sweet of you, though, to try and bring them together.”

Yeonjun glanced at him. “Is it? I just want to be able to hang out with both of them at the same time, it’s kind of selfish. But I do really think they’d get along.”

“Give it time,” he advised. “How are your classes so far?”

But Yeonjun didn’t answer, instead saying urgently, “Pull over.”

“What?” He quickly checked his rearview mirror, afraid he had a police officer behind him or something. He wasn’t speeding. And sure enough, everything behind him looked normal.

“Just pull over, please. That street over there.”

Bewildered, but compliant, Soobin switched his blinker on and took the turn Yeonjun pointed out. It was an empty pull-off lot, the concrete roof unlit, and as soon as he parked, Yeonjun’s warm hands were gripping his cheeks, pulling him close and kissing him hastily.

He barely had time to think, and just let himself get swept up in Yeonjun’s storm. His tongue tasted like coffee just the way Soobin remembered, and he rushed to undo his seatbelt and get his hands on him.

God, it had been too long, and Yeonjun felt like heaven. He couldn’t decide where he wanted to kiss him, too eager to touch him everywhere, and he knew he must seem desperate with the way he quickly gave up on his lips and moved instead to marking him up all down his throat.

“Hyung.” Yeonjun’s breath felt hot against his cheek, fingers twisting in his hair.

Soobin worked his jacket off of him, eager and rushed. He wanted to get his shirt off too, but figured it probably wasn’t appropriate considering they were still in his car.

“Missed you.” The murmur sounded heavy and sweet like summer honey, and Soobin turned his cheek into it, reconnecting their lips in another kiss pent up with passion.

“I missed you, too, pretty boy,” he hummed against his mouth, too honest as he got lost in him. Tangled together, everything felt too present and immediate to worry about keeping secrets. He couldn’t do it.

Yeonjun was entirely adrenaline and heat, a wildfire dancing through crackling summer twilight. Soobin, on the other hand, was like the calm surface of a mountain lake, steady and serene. They fit, complemented one another, and it drew out a vulnerability in Soobin that he never divulged to anyone else.

Yeonjun loved the sound of it, maybe loved the way it felt as much as he did, and Soobin felt him smile as he breathed out, voice full of charming arrogance, “Yeah? Am I your pretty boy?”

“Mhm,” he agreed, threading his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair. Soft and silky and familiar. And when Yeonjun slipped Soobin’s sweater off for him, he added, “I thought I was taking you home. The propositioning and all that.”

“You were. And then I got impatient.”

A wildfire indeed.

“We can’t do much here,” Soobin reminded him, albeit somewhat regretfully. He would have to prepare better for next time. To be fair, however, he had no warning that Yeonjun would be interested in fucking in the car.

“I know,” Yeonjun sighed, but still slid his fingers up and down Soobin’s bicep, teasing exactly the right amount to keep him on edge. “Just kiss me enough to hold me over?”

That, at least, he could manage. Still, he asked playfully, “Is it ever enough for you?”

And Yeonjun, just as mischievous, flashed him a smirk. “No,” he replied before tugging on Soobin’s hair, hard, and crushing their lips together again.

───────✧❁✧───────

On a warm, windy day in September, Soobin woke up with a headache and a strange churning in his stomach.

It took only a minute for him to realize what was happening, and he ran for the bathroom, emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. The tile pressed cold against his knees, and as a wave of dizziness washed over him, he felt more frustrated than anything.

He had plans to meet Yeonjun this afternoon. The big date Yeonjun had promised. They were going to go to the art museum and get dinner at a restaurant in Gangnam that Yeonjun had been dying to try. Once again, it would be the first time that they saw each other in over a month. Their schedules always conflicted, and Yeonjun had gotten caught up in his new hectic life as a university student. This time they carved out was rare, and he didn’t want to surrender it due to a stupid cold.

But Soobin could barely stand, let alone walk around the city. He staggered to his feet and managed to retreat back to bed, his hands shaking as he grabbed his phone to text Yeonjun.

However, while he typed, Yeonjun’s name suddenly popped up on the screen, and Soobin took the call.

“Hi,” he said weakly.

Yeonjun didn’t catch on at first. “Sorry, I know it’s early. I just realized that you still have my cashmere jacket and I wanted to wear it. I was gonna text but I figured you wouldn’t know where to look.”

He was right. Soobin had no idea where his jacket might be, especially right now when the whole room looked out of proportion.

When Soobin took too long to answer, Yeonjun asked, “Hyung? Are you there?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m here.”

“Is everything okay?” Concern colored his voice.

“I’m not feeling great,” he admitted, and his stomach threatened to revolt again at the thought.

“Oh.” A few seconds passed. “Like, are you sick? Do you want me to come over?”

He struggled to answer clearly, voice rasping in his throat. “Yes, I think I might be sick, but I don’t want you coming over.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Yeah, that’s dumb,” Yeonjun decided. “I’ll take the train, I should be there in half an hour. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

Soobin was too exhausted to argue. “Okay,” he conceded. As soon as Yeonjun hung up, he sighed and set his phone aside. He didn’t want Yeonjun seeing him in such a state, let alone exposing himself to whatever seasonal cold Soobin had caught. But he also knew he wasn’t going to change Yeonjun’s mind any time soon, and so he let himself drift back into a fitful sleep.

Forty-five minutes later, his phone started ringing again, loud and insistent enough to wake him. His head throbbed with the noise, and he rubbed his eyes as he unlocked it and answered. “Hello?”

“Hi, hyung, sorry. The door is locked.”

“Oh. One second.”

Hanging up, he staggered out of bed and down the hall. When he unlocked the door, Yeonjun stood there, and he looked so soft and pretty in his white turtleneck and brown cardigan that Soobin felt even more frustrated about his illness.

“Sorry,” Yeonjun said softly, wearing a sheepish expression. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Soobin rubbed his eyes again, and shook his head. “That’s okay. I’ve been meaning to give you a key,” he remembered. “You can come in.”

“How are you feeling?” Yeonjun took off his shoes and followed him inside, and it was only when Soobin saw him head straight for the kitchen that he realized his wrists were laden with bags.

There was too much going on at once for his disoriented mind to handle. “Um, I’ve been better.” His stomach swam again and he winced.

Yeonjun watched him with a sweet, sympathetic look on his face. “I’m so sorry, hyung. Autumn colds are the worst.”

“I’m sorry, too,” he agreed, voice a little hoarse. “I was really looking forward to our day, and I know I kind of ruined everything.”

“You didn’t ruin anything at all,” Yeonjun protested. “It’s not your fault. And I can have just as good of a time here, taking care of you.”

It was a saintly gesture, the kind Soobin had come to expect from him, but he still felt wrong accepting it. He’d done nothing to earn nurturance, and it was strange to seek it from someone half his age. “Yeonjun-ah, you don’t have to stay here. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, I’ve been doing it for years.”

He didn’t anticipate the fierce glare he would receive, stepping back in surprise. “Of course I’m going to stay here. I hate the fact that you’ve had to take care of yourself for years, let someone help you for a change. Let me help you,” Yeonjun said gently, somehow alluring even to Soobin’s foggy state of mind as he rounded the edge of the counter to take Soobin’s bigger hands into his own. “I want to. In fact, I’d be really happy if you let me.”

No argument could withstand Yeonjun’s determination or shining eyes, and so he found himself agreeing. “Okay. I won’t tell you what to do.”

Yeonjun smiled, and dropped his hands, striding back over to the counter. “Here. Take some of this and go get some more rest.” He set a bottle of cold medicine down in front of him. “I’m going to make dak gomtang.”

Soobin frowned. “You’re going to what…?”

“Make soup,” Yeonjun informed him. “For you. So you can wake up to a hot, comforting meal that should be easy on your stomach.”

Even in his daze of sickness, he thought he might be learning something new. “You can cook…?”

“I mean, a little bit.” Yeonjun said it doubtfully, but Soobin got the distinct sense that it was something he wanted to be humble about. “I told you, my mom likes to cook. She taught me some stuff. It’s kind of the only thing we ever bonded over.”

“Oh.” His head was spinning, from the revelation or cold-induced dizziness, he couldn’t tell. It wasn’t such a big deal. Just learning new things in general about Yeonjun always surprised him. “That’s…”

“Go back to bed,” Yeonjun urged, not waiting for him to finish his thought. “I’ll wake you up in a few hours, okay?”

He found himself nodding his head, and let Yeonjun wrap an arm around his waist and guide him back to his room. His murmurs were soft and sweet, and Soobin couldn’t process any of them. It took all of his energy not to cough on Yeonjun, and so he focused on that until he found himself back in bed. Yeonjun poured him a dose of medicine and waited for Soobin to drink it before he took the cup back and placed a light kiss on his head. “Get some sleep, hyung.” Soobin watched him stand up, felt his weight lift from the mattress, and for the first time, he thought maybe getting sick wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Alone, he once again dropped into a half-conscious state, warm and delirious. His comforter felt too hot, and he tossed and turned for a while. But distantly, he could hear the sounds of Yeonjun in the kitchen, chopping green onions and chicken, and moving pots around, and he found it strangely comforting. It had been a long time since he had someone in his house like this. The last had been a girl he dated for two months, and she just happened to enjoy inviting herself over. It gave him anxiety back then, and they’d broken up quickly.

This was different.

Having Yeonjun here felt right, even though he’d been so against it earlier. In all honesty, he wasn’t against it all. He just didn’t want to keep asking so much of Yeonjun, who already did more for him than he deserved. It felt like someone cared about him, though, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a thought like that. Yeonjun chose to come see him. He brought Soobin medicine and stood in his kitchen now, cooking something that he would be able to eat. It wasn’t the kind of nurturance Soobin would have ever expected from him, being as young as he was, but the longer he thought about it, the more grateful he became.

Strangely, he felt like crying.

Maybe because of his illness, and the fever he’d begun to develop. He didn’t cry often. And he didn’t want to. But something about what Yeonjun was doing for him now had his heart constricting in his chest and his throat closed off even more than it had been earlier.

Yeonjun didn’t have to do anything for him. He didn’t have to take care of him, or love him, or even be with him at all. And yet he did. Even when Soobin couldn’t accept his love because of the way it terrified him.

He had never cared about anyone before the way he cared about Yeonjun, and if he acknowledged it, then he acknowledged that he was broken. Not only did he love a man, but he loved a boy fifteen years younger than him. He would never be able to tell anyone. At least, not for several years. He would never be able to bring him home, or introduce him to his family, or share a life with him without living in isolation. It would have to be them and no one else, or nothing at all. He couldn’t ask Yeonjun to do that for him, and he wasn’t even sure if he wanted that either. Did he care for Yeonjun enough to essentially devote his life to their relationship?

The plain answer was no, and maybe that was for the best. He wouldn’t give up everything he had just to be with him, and he would expect Yeonjun to say the same.

Things were different for Yeonjun, though. Although he’d never be able to tell his family, he could tell someone. At worst, Yeonjun would have to face pity from everyone who thought he was making a foolish mistake but understood because he was young.

In any case, Yeonjun came across as the young and foolish one, and Soobin was somehow twisted and taking advantage of him. No one else would see what they were and understand. Soobin would be labeled as a villain for the rest of his life if they stayed together. People would blame him for ruining Yeonjun’s youth, and tell Soobin that he knew better than to do something so selfish and dangerous.

Of course he knew better. To the point where he was even thinking about it now, delirious and sick in bed, while Yeonjun listened to American R&B down the hall as he cooked, singing along in a quiet, pretty voice.

He did know better. But right now, he felt more at home than he had in five years. His apartment felt full for the first time. He was down with a cold, yes, but Yeonjun was here, and he brought music, light, and safety. It almost felt like a dream, hazy and bittersweet, but he let himself just soak it in and drift away.

A few hours must have passed, because when he awoke, his room lay swathed in soft twilit shadows, as if the afternoon had been draped in sheer gray silk. Patches of pink peeked through the shutters, hinting at the setting sun, and when he inhaled, he caught the savory scent of chicken soup.

His mouth felt dry, and he reached for the glass of water that Yeonjun had placed by his bed. A few gulps of it eased his hoarseness, and he slowly sat up, swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress. Light music still came from the living room, but he could no longer hear Yeonjun singing along, and so he found the energy to get to his feet and investigate.

When he emerged from his bedroom, it took him a moment to spot Yeonjun at the kitchen table, hunched over his laptop and a notepad. He used to take the same posture in class often, and Soobin wished he would correct it.

“Hi,” Soobin said quietly so as not to startle him, walking over, and Yeonjun immediately perked up and twisted around.

“Hi,” he replied with a smile. “How are you feeling?”

“A little better,” he hummed and took the seat beside him. “My stomach feels much more at ease. What are you working on?”

“Just an assignment for my marketing class. It’s not very interesting.” And that was apparently all he had to say on the matter, because he shut his computer and pushed it away from him. “Are you hungry?”

Soobin couldn’t quite tell, in the way that a body often doesn’t cooperate when ill, but he nodded anyway. Yeonjun had worked hard while he slept- he wanted to know what he’d come up with. “I think so.”

“Cool, the soup’s been simmering for a couple hours now so it should be good to go. Let me get you a bowl.”

He watched Yeonjun stand with detached intrigue, admiring his grace and ease of movement, something that caught his eye when they first met, and something he missed seeing since they spent so little time together nowadays. Perhaps it was because he himself often felt too big and clumsy that it was satisfying to him simply to watch Yeonjun move. He had removed his cardigan at some point, only now showing off that his turtleneck was sleeveless, and Soobin found himself fascinated by his arms which looked more muscular than he remembered.

It was a good look for him. Unintentionally flexing as he filled a bowl for Soobin, he looked strong and fit, the way Soobin wished he had been when he was his age.

“Here,” Yeonjun said as he walked back to him, placing the bowl on the table. “I hope it’s okay. And if it’s not, I can make you something else.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect, I’m not all that picky.”

He honestly didn’t know what to expect, considering Yeonjun sounded so unsure about his own culinary skills, so Soobin was pleasantly surprised when he blew on the soup, tasted it, and discovered that the flavor reminded him of his mother’s own cooking.

Maybe because it was such a classic recipe, but it certainly brought back that strange feeling of home that had washed over him earlier.

“It’s really good,” he informed Yeonjun, glancing up to see him watching intently.

Relief lit up Yeonjun’s features for a moment, although, all he said was, “It’s pretty simple, I’m glad I didn’t mess it up too bad, though.”

Soobin didn’t understand his insecurity, but still reassured him, “You didn’t. Thank you for cooking.” Then, he glanced at the big pot still sitting on the stove. “Are you not going to eat any?”

Yeonjun shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I ate with Beomgyu a little while before coming here.”

“Oh, okay.” That was fine, he supposed. Yeonjun didn’t have to eat if he didn’t want to. It seemed like he always ate before coming over. Maybe he was self-conscious about eating in front of him, although Soobin couldn’t imagine why. “Where did you get all of this, anyway?” Soobin asked after a few moments, wanting to make some form of conversation while he ate. It felt strange to just sit there with Yeonjun staring at him.

“The market down the street. We don’t have one in my neighborhood.” Yeonjun wore a fond look as he watched Soobin. Sometimes, he wondered how Yeonjun saw him. What he saw in him. “The aunties were really nice. They kept trying to give me a handsomeness discount.”

“You’re very handsome,” Soobin agreed, sounding only slightly out of it due to the warm food beginning to make him sleepy again.

Yeonjun laughed, saying, “You’ve never called me handsome before. You really must not be feeling well.”

Soobin frowned, setting his spoon down. “What do you mean?”

With a shrug, Yeonjun answered, “Nothing, really. It’s just, whenever you compliment me, I’m always pretty, or sexy, or cute. Like a girl.”

He paused, and considered it for a moment. That may be true. Often, in his thoughts, he acknowledged Yeonjun’s masculinity, and even felt attracted to it. His observations just a few minutes ago were a testament to that. But he realized that he never said those things out loud to Yeonjun. He had never said anything like it out loud before, not to anyone, really, because it didn’t feel natural in his mouth.

“Do you have a preference?” he asked, before thinking that maybe it was the wrong question because Yeonjun seemed slightly put-off.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied with another shrug, and tapped his phone screen, as if he were checking the time. “You’re the one complimenting me. It’s sweet, regardless.”

“I’m always complimenting you in my head.”

Yeonjun glanced up at that, wearing a delicate expression. Teetering on interest. “Why?”

Soobin didn’t have the mental capacity for this at the moment, but did his best. “I think you’d get sick of it, honestly, if I said it all out loud.”

“I wouldn’t,” Yeonjun said immediately.

“Okay…” He paused, then took another spoonful of soup before saying, “You look good in that shirt.”

Yeonjun laughed, and said, “You don’t have to force yourself to compliment me, hyung.”

“No, I mean it!” he objected. “I was thinking about it earlier. Your arms are nice.”

“My arms,” Yeonjun said slowly, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

“Yes,” Soobin persisted. “Your arms. Is that weird?”

“No,” he replied, but his lips twitched, betraying another laugh.

“Forget it, this is why I never say things out loud,” he muttered, returning to his soup, and Yeonjun made a sound of protest, scooting over to rest his chin on Soobin’s shoulder.

“No, I’m sorry.” He whined, and brushed his nose against Soobin’s cheek. “It’s cute. You’re cute.”

“I’m not,” he refused the compliment and ignored Yeonjun’s attempts to console him, instead finishing the last of his bowl.

“Yes, you are. Look, you’re sulking right now. It’s adorable.”

Soobin shot him a glare, although he wasn’t actually annoyed. “You’re not helping your case, you know.”

Yeonjun just gave him an indulgent smile, then turned his head to lay his cheek on his shoulder instead. “I wish you were feeling better. I missed you.”

He sighed, and their short little argument disappeared like early-morning mist. “Me too. We can reschedule our date. I was excited about it.”

He knew Yeonjun put a lot of effort into planning the day’s outing -museum tickets weren’t cheap and reservations were a pain to make- and he felt awful for ruining the whole thing.

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Yeonjun consoled him, tucking a lock of Soobin’s black hair behind his ear for him. The tips of his fingers were pink and soft. “We’ll find another time.”

Soobin hummed in agreement, and glanced at the other end of the table where his forgotten laptop and notebook lay. “Do you have any more assignments?”

“Nothing that has to be done now.”

“Come pick out a movie, then. We’ll just have our date inside.”

Yeonjun nodded, and rose to his feet. “Sure. Let me just clean up and then I’ll join you on the couch.”

“We can do it later,” Soobin persuaded, lightly grabbing his wrist and following him. Without much force, he pulled Yeonjun back into his arms, tucking his nose into his neck and placing a soft kiss there.

“Hyung, you’re not feeling well,” Yeonjun objected. “No kissing.”

While he knew that was the sensible thing to do, he didn’t like hearing it. “I’m feeling better now.”

“You’re such a liar,” Yeonjun called him out with a snort. “Come on, couch time.”

So, Soobin let Yeonjun take his hand and lead him into the living room. He even let Yeonjun settle him on the seat, placing a pillow behind his back and draping a blanket over his legs.

“I’ll be right back, find us something to watch,” Yeonjun said softly, kissing the top of his head. So he got to kiss, but Soobin didn’t. What a hypocrite.

Oddly enough, he didn’t mind being taken care of like this when he was sick. Certainly, if he were feeling one-hundred-percent, he wouldn’t be able to tolerate it. Just the idea of appearing weak in front of Yeonjun made him feel a different sort of nausea on a normal day. But maybe with his fever, and a nice full stomach, he could look past his own ego for a moment and enjoy the unexpected tenderness.

Once the sounds of the tap and dishes being scrubbed ceased, replaced by the soft hum of the running dishwasher, Yeonjun returned to him, and Soobin scooted over so he could fit Yeonjun into his arms.

He tucked his chin over Yeonjun’s shoulder, clung to his warmth, and got lost in a pleasant haze. He didn’t hear much of the movie he chose, couldn’t even remember what it was about, really. He dozed in and out throughout the whole thing, warming his hands against Yeonjun’s firm stomach. Their legs were too long to fit comfortably on the sofa together, but they made it work, comfortable enough for Soobin to fall asleep.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun whispered, and Soobin blinked his eyes open, realizing the screen had returned to Netflix’s home page, and Yeonjun was facing him now. He could see his face, bleary as his vision was, and he looked beautiful.

“Hi,” he said just as quietly, and freed one hand from under Yeonjun’s shirt to brush his hair back from his forehead.

“Do you want to go to bed?”

Soobin shook his head. “I like it here.” He liked the safety, and the warmth, and this small space they shared. Getting up meant separating, and reentering the cold.

“Okay,” Yeonjun replied softly. “We can stay here.”

“I-” There were so many things, so many dangerous words his delirious mind almost let slip. “I like you so much, Yeonjun-ah.”

“I love you.”

Soobin couldn’t say it, knew better than to say it. Everything would only hurt so much more in the long run if he let himself think such a thing. Instead, he just drew Yeonjun closer and kissed his forehead before pressing his own to it.

They didn’t say anything else -he prayed Yeonjun would forgive him and understand why he stayed silent- and eventually they fell asleep like that.

───────✧❁✧───────

Sometimes, he thought Yeonjun might be an angel.

Not in the way where he was crafted in the shape of perfection, and that he had no flaws, but in the sense that he saved Soobin in a way no one else could have. He loved with all his heart, and let Soobin see his most precious things, the sort that Soobin never would have found himself, let alone recognized the beauty they held.

Little things, fragile things, they all became precious in his hands.

An unintentional savior. The purest kind.

After a while, he did write about Yeonjun, when thoughts like these arose. When he knew they couldn’t linger in his head, he scrawled them down, letting them find freedom in a fleeting moment of happiness. It was because of Yeonjun that he started writing poetry.

The art itself he understood, but never fell in love with. In college, he’d studied what felt like every form of poetry known to man, and still couldn’t find the style for him. But when he met Yeonjun, witnessed his smiles, heard his laughter, and was forced to watch him cry, there was no other way to express it. He wouldn’t really call it poetry. Made up of those simple flitting thoughts, they read like petals snatched out of the wind come sakura season. Small and sweet. Something to let go as quickly as it came.

Yeonjun knew that he wrote, most likely knew that he wrote about him, but never asked to see it. For that, Soobin was grateful. Those thoughts were kept in writing because he could never say them to Yeonjun out loud. A few short weeks went by when Soobin considered gifting him a few pages from his journal for his nineteenth birthday- he knew Yeonjun wanted to understand him better, more than he wanted anything material. But in the end, he couldn’t do it, and instead got him a polaroid camera of his own. He wasn’t good at tenderness or saying the right thing at the right time, and it was a vice Yeonjun never held against him. As if it were a simple flaw, he didn’t even seem to mind.

Things like that made him an angel, and Soobin was the broken ward he’d unwittingly been charged with.

“What is it that you see in me?” Soobin asked one morning, as they lay in his bed together. Though they had both been awake for a while, they weren’t doing anything, simply enjoying the late October sunshine. He thought Yeonjun looked most beautiful right after he woke up, with soft bleary eyes and messy hair, his cheeks still puffy with sleep.

Yeonjun didn’t even lift his head from where he rested on Soobin’s chest. “Lots of things,” he mumbled. They had stayed up late- he was probably still rather tired.

And yet, the thought had been eating at him lately and he couldn’t just let it go. Why would Yeonjun, who could have anyone he desired, choose to stay with him for this long? Yeonjun was young, just now starting the best part of his life, and he still wanted Soobin. It didn’t make any sense to him.

“Tell me,” he encouraged, and eventually Yeonjun raised his chin to look at him.

“You’re just…” Yeonjun sighed. “You know I’m not good at putting stuff into words.”

He smiled, and reached down to stroke his hair. “It doesn’t have to be poetry. I’m just curious.”

The soft petting put Yeonjun at ease, and eventually he said, “You’re just everything I want, you know? You’re compassionate, and gentle, and you always encourage me even when I don’t believe in myself.” He thought for a few more seconds, and then continued, the words coming to him the longer he talked. “You’re patient with me when I know I’m too much, and I feel like I can tell you anything. It’s…not the kind of relationship I really ever expected myself to have, honestly. Even when we first started going out, I always felt safe with you, and I still do. You make me happy.” Soobin thought he would stop there, but Yeonjun rolled over, propping himself up on his elbows to cup his cheek, gazing into his eyes. “I like your smile. Probably more than anything in the world. It’s just soft, and kind, and beautiful. Your eyes are the same way. I hate seeing you hurt.”

Yeonjun brushed his thumb over his cheek, and in that moment, Soobin realized that he was in love with him.

“I guess I just like you,” Yeonjun said with a shrug, and placed a kiss on his lips. Soobin cupped the back of his head, kissing him tenderly.

He knew since the day he had said it that Yeonjun loved him, but he thought it wasn’t anything serious. Yeonjun had no idea what love felt like. Of course he would think that what he felt for Soobin was love, because Soobin took care of him, and had sex with him, and told him he was beautiful. And Soobin thought that it would fade over time, once Yeonjun woke up from the hazy dream they shared.

But it hadn’t. And in all that time, Soobin never thought he himself would wake up one day, and instead feel the same way.

Yet here, holding Yeonjun in his bed, warm from the glow of sunrise, and hearing his sleepy mumble, he couldn’t help but be overwhelmed by the feeling. It washed over him, warm and sweet like summer honey. He loved Yeonjun, maybe more than he’d ever loved anyone.

It would be unfair of him to say anything. Especially when he had shut Yeonjun down so coldly the first time he confessed to him, and had kept so quiet just last month when he whispered it to him again. And maybe Yeonjun already knew, considering he had accused Soobin of it as if it were something awful last May. Maybe it was why he let Soobin say nothing when he said everything, and still seemed to love him just the same.

For now, he would continue to keep quiet, and indulge in the moment. If Yeonjun already knew, then there was nothing to be said. And if he didn’t, it was best to keep it that way. At this point, one more little secret wouldn’t change anything.

───────✧❁✧───────

Eventually, they settled into a nice routine. Yeonjun would come over on the weekends and usually stay unless he had a project that required his campus library or his department’s sewing machines. He had started producing the clothes he designed, and often used Soobin as a model, although he constantly complained about the cost of his proportions. It was endearing, though, and gave him an excuse to come over during the week, as well.

He really seemed to take to the essence of his major in a way that Soobin hadn’t anticipated. Yeonjun loved fashion, so much so that he never sounded bored with even his simplest classes, although the more technical aspects frustrated him from time to time.

Soobin just assumed he enjoyed designing, combining his earlier childhood passion of sketching with his later love for modern style, but on a cold November day, he discovered a new side of Yeonjun’s interest entirely.

When he heard the apartment door open, Soobin was already in the kitchen, trying to cook something presentable for dinner although he had long since concluded that Yeonjun was the better cook between the two of them. It was a bit embarrassing to be shown up by a teenage boy when it came to culinary skills considering that he had been feeding himself for the last fifteen years, but Yeonjun was innately talented whereas Soobin was just competent enough to survive. He was trying to increase his own skill level these days, however, because he thought they might actually be capable of producing quite a good meal if they combined their skills.

He called out a greeting to Yeonjun, too occupied with his pork belly to meet him at the door. “I’m in the kitchen!”

Yeonjun appeared around the corner, wearing a loose white v-neck shirt and some sort of black bottoms that could either be a skirt or pants, Soobin didn’t really know these days, as his taste in clothes grew more eccentric. But he had a guess that Yeonjun’s favorite heavy platform sneakers were close by, most likely left at the door. His glasses perched on his head and he had an iced coffee in hand.

“Ooh, yes you are.” Sounding mildly impressed, Yeonjun padded over to him and examined his handiwork. “Did you have work today?”

Soobin shook his head. “The students get a few days off after their exams.”

“I forgot it was exam season for you, too, I’ve been so wrapped up in my midterms.”

“Which ones do you have left?”

“My two worst classes,” Yeonjun sighed, resting his chin on Soobin’s shoulder.

“Economics and marketing?”

“Yeah. It’s just really not my thing. I mean, I like marketing when we get to design projects and business models. That’s fun. But our midterm is a written cumulative test, and I would rather sit on a bed of nails for three hours.”

“You can’t sit still for an hour long test, what makes you think you could do so for three?”

Yeonjun shot him a glare. “You’re not helping.” Then, after a moment of thinking, Yeonjun noted, “I sat through your exams just fine.”

It had been a long time since they talked about the previous year. Mostly, they avoided the topic entirely when it came to the portions of it that were spent in his classroom.

Still, Soobin tried to approach it lightheartedly. “Your definition of fine seems to be a bit different from mine. I distinctly recall you being both antsy and talkative every single time you took a test.”

“I guess I just believe in a more liberal educational atmosphere than you,” Yeonjun replied airily. “Maybe I should be a teacher.”

Soobin couldn’t help the snort that escaped him. “Are you trying to give me nightmares?”

“You don’t think I’d be good at it?”

“It’s not that I don’t think you’d be good at it,” he answered, flipping his pork. The scent was pleasant, sizzling when it hit the oil, and Yeonjun detached himself from Soobin’s shoulder to start pulling down plates. “It’s that I think you wouldn’t get around to teaching anything at all. You’d start talking and suddenly it would be the end of the day.”

“I hate when you’re right.”

“I know you do, baby.”

They sat down to dinner, and it was a nice affair. At this point, sharing their evenings had become routine, although Yeonjun sometimes ate before coming over when his classes ran late. They still had plenty to do; Soobin often graded papers while Yeonjun completed his homework. The atmosphere felt warm and comforting. He liked sharing his space with him. It was odd, because when he imagined having a long-term partner prior to meeting Yeonjun, he always thought he would get bored with the repetitiveness of a shared routine.

But he and Yeonjun never really got bored of each other at all, even though they had been together for what he supposed was now a full year, and Soobin looked forward to their quiet evenings. Sometimes, their relationship felt more intense -usually when Yeonjun went through periods of high emotions and stress- but those moments came and went in waves. They weathered them, although arguments weren’t infrequent even on their best of days.

After they retired from working at the kitchen table, they usually curled up on the couch. Their tastes in television were different and so they compromised, rotating who got to pick their next show.

Tonight, Yeonjun excused himself from the room, saying he wanted his coffee, and when he came back, he just stood beside the couch, as if contemplating whether or not to speak. He had that look on his face where he wanted Soobin to prompt him instead of just saying something outright.

“What’s up?” Soobin asked after a few seconds passed.

“I got an offer today.” Yeonjun sounded nervous as he spoke, clutching his coffee in his hands. Nearly all of the ice cubes had melted down by now.

Soobin frowned, and sat up straight. “What kind of offer?”

Already, he didn’t like where this was going.

“A…um, a modeling gig,” Yeonjun tentatively informed him, coming around the edge of the couch to sit.

Immediately, Soobin’s senses were on high alert. His drowsiness evaporated, replaced by hypervigilance. “How?”

“Two casting agents approached me while I was getting my coffee.” Pulling something from his pocket, Yeonjun held it out. “They gave me a card, look.”

Soobin took the card from him and squinted at it, attempting to discern its authenticity. Something felt off to him. There was indeed a man’s name listed on the front, as well as what company he worked for and his number, and the card was made of good, glossy cardstock. But it still didn’t persuade him.

“They want me to meet with them tomorrow.”

He glanced up. Yeonjun was watching him with an alert expression, as though he was waiting for him to say something.

“I really don’t think you should go.”

Yeonjun’s eyes narrowed, and all of a sudden, he looked more like a fox than a cat, plucking the card from Soobin’s fingers and returning it to his pocket. “I knew you would say that.” Soobin stared at him, wondering where the abrupt shift in attitude came from, but Yeonjun continued talking. “And why do you think I shouldn’t go?”

He sighed, trying not to get irritated by his self-righteous tone. “They’re most likely scamming you, Yeonjun.”

“They looked like they had plenty of money.”

Was he really so naive?

“Not for money,” he muttered, and got to his feet. At this point, it felt like a lost cause; Yeonjun would go regardless of what he said. He supposed that was the one flaw their relationship fell victim to- they really did argue often. Going into their relationship, when he realized it was becoming a more serious affair than he initially intended, he thought it was to be expected. He and Yeonjun were two very different people, with different interests, different perspectives, and different goals. But the arguing grew more volatile than he could have predicted, escalating often to a point where Yeonjun would come away from it crying, and Soobin would feel terribly guilty even if he was certain he was right. Sometimes they argued about the most meaningless things and sometimes about the things that carried enough weight to derail them completely. Tonight was one of the latter nights, he was quickly beginning to realize, and he wanted to end it before it could even begin.

“You really think I’m stupid, don’t you?”

Yeonjun followed him, and his accusation rang out throughout the apartment. He obviously wanted to press the issue.

Soobin just kept walking towards the kitchen. He didn’t want to do this right now, they had been having such a nice night. “No, I don’t think you’re stupid. I think you’re young and naive, and I’m afraid of other people taking advantage of it.”

“Like you?”

That made him turn around. “Excuse me?” he said quietly.

Yeonjun’s eyes were sharp and dark, and he met his gaze over the counter. Standing there in Soobin’s kitchen, he looked older than he was, and spoke coolly. “You heard me.”

“When have I ever taken advantage of you?”

“Of me being young? Since we’ve known each other.” When Soobin’s expression grew dark, Yeonjun’s tone softened, but his eyes were still fierce. “I’m not blaming you. I’m just saying that I’m not as blind to everything as you think I am. And I need you to start taking me seriously.”

Soobin raised his eyebrows, speaking calmly. “That’s fine. But I can’t take you seriously when you’re making stupid, reckless decisions.”

“Well, considering I’m never going to change your mind about what’s stupid and reckless since you’ve never taken a single risk in your life, I guess we’re at a bit of a stalemate then.”

“You’re so-” Soobin stared at him, completely at a loss for words. He didn’t want to fight. They had been doing well for a while now, but it specifically seemed like Yeonjun was trying to provoke him this time. “Arrogant,” he finished, and watched as he processed the word.

“I am not,” Yeonjun replied indignantly, and his shift in tone revealed a new-found insecurity.

“Yes, you are,” Soobin said evenly, quickly regaining control of the situation now that he knew where to target. “You always think you’re the smartest person in the room, and honestly, it can be kind of exhausting. I try to listen to you and understand where you’re coming from, but something in you stops you from showing me the same respect. It’s frustrating.”

“I’m listening,” Yeonjun argued. “You’re just not making any sense. I’m telling you that I’m being careful. I researched the agency, and the people who talked to me, and it seems legitimate.”

“Oh, is that so? Well fine, then, I suppose you should just do whatever the hell you want.” And then, unable to just drop it, he had to push, “Why are you even interested in this? I thought you wanted to design clothes, not model them.”

Yeonjun still had plenty of fire in him, and quickly snapped, “It’s a good opportunity for me. Which I know you hate for some reason, but it’s true. If this went well, I’d have a huge advantage in the industry after I graduate.”

Soobin sighed. “I don’t hate when you’re given good opportunities.” He wasn’t lying, either, although Yeonjun stumbled across more lucky chances than anyone else Soobin had ever known. Good opportunities landed at his feet, as if he was made of gold foils. “I get nervous when you dive into things headfirst without thinking.”

“I’ve thought a lot about it.”

“You said you got this offer today.”

Yeonjun frowned, extremely frustrated with his lack of cooperation. “Yes, and I’ve been thinking about it since.”

“Since when, noon? How very cautious of you,” he replied dryly.

“Soobin, please!” Yeonjun finally broke, antagonized enough to use his name. “I’m telling you, because I want you to go with me! I’m not trying to…to fight with you. Okay?”

He paused, the use of his name immediately effective. It was strange how Yeonjun didn’t say it because of their age difference, granting Soobin power that way, but he took it all back when he chose to use it against him instead.

“You should have said that in the first place.”

“You didn’t let me.”

Sighing, he chose to let it go. “Why do you want me to come?”

Yeonjun stared at him as if it should be obvious. “So you can be sure that I’m not doing anything dangerous or stupid. Besides, if I bring another person with me and it is a scam, even though I really don’t think it is, they can’t do anything about it. I’m trying to be smart.”

“Why can’t you just want a normal college job?” he asked, mostly to himself, and his comment eased the harsh tension that had arisen between them.

“This is more beneficial in the long run,” Yeonjun pointed out, now desperately trying to convince him since he had Soobin a fraction of the way on board. “It pertains to my major, pays more, and has the potential to get me a decent leg up in the industry once I graduate. It’s a good thing, I swear.”

“Assuming that it’s legitimate.”

“Yes.”

“Fine,” he gave in after another few beats of hesitation. “But if it seems off in any way, we’re leaving. Does that make sense?”

He asked for the confirmation that Yeonjun was listening, not for his agreement. It wasn’t up for debate.

“Yes,” Yeonjun swiftly latched on to the few inches of lead Soobin gave. “Thank you.”

He nodded, although their conversation had drained him. “I think I’m going to go to bed. Are you coming?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Yeonjun shook his head. “I have a few more assignments to finish before midnight. I’ll be there in a little bit.”

“Okay.”

Going to bed without Yeonjun always felt colder and more lonely. But when he eventually did join him, crawling in beside him softly and quietly, it put Soobin at ease. His weight in bed had started to become familiar, and he noticed when Yeonjun wasn’t there. On days when Yeonjun stayed on campus, Soobin liked to just fill his spot with pillows, preferring the clutter over the empty space.

He wondered if Yeonjun felt the same.

───────✧❁✧───────

The next day, he came to find out that not only was the modeling offer legitimate, but the whole process itself went almost too smoothly. Soobin accompanied Yeonjun as promised, and he immediately realized he had been overly paranoid. The agency was large and very clearly real; the people were swift-talking and professional; the demo shoot itself went by like a breeze, as did the talks that followed.

Apparently, Yeonjun was a natural. That didn’t surprise him. Once again, Choi Yeonjun had more talent in his left pinky than most people harbored in their entire body. The photographers and directors showered him with praise, all of which the two agents who had approached him the other day seemed to bask in as though they were the ones being complimented. Yeonjun was notably modest and humble, smiling prettily, bowing often, and talking in a soft, quiet voice.

Soobin was silent for nearly the entire thing, simply observing. The people from the agency didn’t seem to mind, although they commented more than once on his own good looks and how much of a shame it was that they didn’t find him fifteen years sooner. The comments made him feel old, however, which he very much wasn’t, and he tried to avoid most conversation afterwards.

There did seem to be a bit of miscommunication where they thought that he and Yeonjun were related somehow, as he got referred to as both his brother and his cousin.

As annoying as it was, he preferred it over the alternative. If this really was about to become a big thing for Yeonjun, the last thing he needed was to ruin it by being gay. Yeonjun swore up and down that the fashion industry had more of an open mind than most of the country, but secretly, Soobin thought that was just something he told himself to feel comforted.

The whole event felt surreal.

There were names flying around, brands and people who sounded familiar, and he considered for a moment that he might just be having a very imaginative lucid dream. It wouldn’t be the first time.

But no, within two months or so, Yeonjun being a model became a regular, integrated part of their lives. The way anything did, really, except the magnitude of it was incomparable to any singular event Soobin had experienced.

It wasn’t like Yeonjun suddenly became famous or anything. But he had a manager, and photoshoots, and brand endorsements. He gained a fair amount of attention on social media, where he had apparently been quite popular already.

His image changed, but his ego only inflated slightly. Perhaps it was because he always maintained a gracious, modest way about him, or perhaps it was just that Soobin had grown accustomed to his confidence over the time that they had known each other.

He still went to classes, stayed with Soobin a few nights a week, and for the most part, everything seemed normal. The main difference came in the form of scheduling, as Yeonjun had less free time now, between the photoshoots, the campaigns, and the time he spent at the gym, which quickly increased almost as soon as he started his new job. If he had been spending eight hours a week there before, now the accumulated time lay somewhere closer to fifteen, and it became more and more difficult for them to spend time together.

Still, they managed to find pockets here and there. Yeonjun, really, was the one who made sure to find time for him. Soobin knew he should be grateful -and he was- but it frustrated him more often than not.

He liked when things were simple.

He liked when Yeonjun got home before him, and he would walk in the door to see his shoes already neatly placed on the rack and hear the sounds of either him typing at the table or music playing as he cooked. He particularly loved the days when Yeonjun got home before him and met him at the door, telling him to forget about dinner before dragging him into the bedroom.

Those days were now few and far between. Yeonjun spent more and more time either working or on campus as his winter semester finals were rapidly approaching. Soobin himself grew busier this time of year as well, his students getting ready to face their own set of exams since their CSATs had just ended.

Yeonjun had his own world, most of which didn’t include Soobin, and he supposed he had his own separate life too. It used to be so much easier when they overlapped. But now their spheres were far removed from one another, Yeonjun’s moving quickly and full of new, exciting things, while his rotated on the same axis, but calm and steady.

Things were less simple. And he expected the winter season to pass quietly, at least until the holiday break rolled around.

It was the fifth of December. He only knew because he woke up to texts from all of his family members and his few friends who remembered wishing him a happy birthday. The sentiment was sweet enough. He wasn’t feeling very celebratory.

His day remained uneventful, as his birthdays always did. He used to go out with his friends from university, but most of them had parted ways by now. Several of his friends had moved out of the country.

Kim Yunho, however, must have glanced at the calendar in the staff room by pure luck, and brought him a small cake once class ended for the day.

“Should I even guess?” Yunho asked with a knowing smile after wishing him a happy birthday. “You can’t be a day over thirty.”

Soobin smiled- his flattery didn’t go unappreciated. Neither did the thought that someone cared. “Thirty-four, now, but I might start telling people that if it’s so believable.” The cake was modest and pretty, a light blue that made his mind wander for a moment.

“Fun celebration plans tonight?” And then, as if the thought struck him for the first time, Yunho said, “You must have a girlfriend, at least.”

“I-”

“You’re too handsome not to,” Yunho concluded without waiting for him to speak.

Soobin didn’t know what to say, weakly settling on, “I doubt we’re doing anything. Both of us are very busy.”

He meant himself and Yeonjun, of course, but kept his answer vague enough to pass. Veiled truth really was the key to lying well.

“I guarantee she’s a smart girl if she’s with you, I’m sure she’s planning something.”

He knew it was meant to be another compliment, but it came across as…condescending, somehow. It made him think about Yeonjun in a strange way, much against his will. No one would ever say something like that about a guy.

Then again, maybe Soobin wouldn’t have even thought twice about it if he’d never met Yeonjun, who would certainly hate the double standard his coworker just set.

“Maybe,” he just acknowledged and tried to move on. “I’m working a little late tonight, though. I’m not all that big on celebrations.”

“I understand,” Yunho said cheerily, perhaps sensing Soobin didn’t want to discuss it further.

“Thank you for the cake, really, it will probably keep me going as I grade tonight.”

Yunho clapped him on the shoulder. “I find a good dose of sugar helps me every now and again. You-”

The door clicked open, and both of them glanced up. Soobin’s heart practically stopped in his chest when he saw Yeonjun standing there, mouth open, very clearly about to speak only to find someone else in his classroom.

“Oh, hi, Mr. Kim.” Yeonjun recovered quickly and plastered a bright smile on his face. “I guess I’m late to the party.”

“Yeonjun-ssi,” Yunho said, voice colored with surprise, and not necessarily kind. He stared at Yeonjun with undisguised intrigue and confusion- Soobin didn’t blame him. Yeonjun looked markedly different from when he’d graduated almost a year ago, his hair longer and a lighter brown, wearing sleek, expensive clothes that his stylists had most likely given him after a shoot. He had a few delicate silver necklaces layered over his top and several more hoops in his ears. His glasses perched on his head like always, but what seemed to draw Yunho’s gaze was the makeup.

Yeonjun never wore makeup to school when he went to the academy. It was a hobby he indulged in privately, then started to explore more when he found the freedom to in an arts college. His new job only encouraged him, and so he had gotten used to doing his own makeup every day, and having it done professionally. Soobin barely thought about it anymore, except for the times Yeonjun would complain when he failed to notice something bold or exciting that he was trying out.

Today, his eye makeup was coral and faintly shimmery. Soobin didn’t know enough to guess at what he used, but he knew that Yeonjun looked far too feminine in Kim Yunho’s opinion.

Sure enough, Yunho glanced at Soobin once he was done staring at Yeonjun, as if gauging his reaction. Soobin kept his expression perfectly neutral.

“I, um, I’m here to wish Mr. Choi a happy birthday,” Yeonjun explained, and Soobin knew him well enough to know this wasn’t the situation he had been anticipating. A key example of why he hated surprises.

Still, it wasn’t abnormal for students to visit after graduation, although they typically came during class hours. And Yeonjun definitely didn’t qualify as the average student to him, but no one else had to be aware of that particular detail.

Yunho didn’t take the hint and stayed firmly by Soobin’s desk, leaving Yeonjun with no choice but to approach and bow politely. It was only then that Soobin noticed the small box and envelope clutched in Yeonjun’s hands, and he set both of them down. “I know you’re busy, so I’ll just leave this here.” Then, Yeonjun put on a completely different smile, sweet and platonic enough that it would have fooled even him if he knew any better. “I didn’t say it last year, but you’re my favorite homeroom teacher I’ve ever had and I just wanted to say happy birthday. Sorry it’s so late, my last class finished at five but I’m glad I got here before you left. I’ll come back and visit another time, too! Have a great night, sirs.” Then, Yeonjun waved and headed out the door, as if that was really all they had between them.

Good memories as teacher and student.

As soon as he was gone, Yunho turned to him and remarked quietly, as if it were an awful scandal, “Do you think his mother knows?”

Slightly on edge, Soobin asked, “Knows what?”

Yunho clicked his tongue. “That he looks like that, for starters. It’s not natural.”

“I think he’s studying fashion,” Soobin replied calmly, working hard to keep himself from answering with a sharp retort.

The look Yunho gave him was pitying, as if Soobin didn’t know what he was attempting to get at. “I think he’s just abnormal.”

“In what way?”

Maybe his coworker didn’t expect him to push the topic, and he pursed his lips. “I suppose it isn’t worth discussing. It’s a shame, though. I really did think he would do well. He had everything lined up for him, except that hiccup with his father, I guess.”

As if he couldn’t hear enough about the topic, Soobin had to pry, “What about his father? What does he do?”

Now they had landed on a topic that interested Yunho. “Cocaine.”

Yunho said it like a joke, but seemed quite serious when adding, “Beyond that, I really don’t know. He used to be rather respected in the business sphere, at least here in Seoul. I met him a few times, when he and Kim Misun were still married. They were a lovely couple. His father, Choi Eunwoo, didn’t talk much. He mostly left that up to his wife. They had a lot going for them, so it was such a shame when the marriage fell apart. It devastated Yeonjun, I’ll tell you that much. I had never seen a student go from so extroverted to so withdrawn in just the span of a few months.” As the memories came back to him, Yunho mused, “He definitely looks better now than he did back then. I remember he gained a fair amount of weight during the divorce. The other boys teased him about it for a while. And then the new year came and he was almost unrecognizable, so skinny that I thought he fell ill during the holidays. The poor boy, he’s probably going through another phase right now. I think if his father was still in his life, things would be a lot different for him.”

Briefly, Soobin longed for the chance to meet Yeonjun’s father, the man who had broken and deserted him so badly. Enough for Yeonjun to seek solace in Soobin instead.

Not acknowledging the correlation would be intentional obliviousness on his part, and he refused to ignore what was right in front of him. But he didn’t want to credit such an awful person with essentially handing him the best relationship of his life. It felt wrong, and Yeonjun would hate him for even thinking about it.

“Maybe,” Soobin eventually agreed, not knowing what else to say.

Just then, however, his phone lit up with a text. He barely glanced at it, saw a familiar contact name, and swiftly clicked it off.

“Well, I’ll leave you to your grading, Soobin-ssi,” Yunho said with a bit more of a forced smile. The conversation had grown awkward with Yeonjun’s appearance, and Soobin’s heart still raced. If Yeonjun had talked before he opened the door, if he wasn’t such a fast thinking, if-

There were so many ifs, none of which spelled good things for Soobin.

“You have a great night, Yunho-ssi,” he said, matching the look he gave him. “Thanks again for the birthday wishes.”

“Please, it’s nothing.” Then, Yunho gave him a small wave and headed out the door, leaving him alone to check his phone.

But first, his curiosity compelled him to open the envelope Yeonjun had left. Rather than the typical card, it seemed to contain a lengthy, handwritten letter, and Soobin unfolded it with intrigue.

Yeonjun’s handwriting was instantly recognizable, as Soobin used to spend so much time reading it while he graded. Messy, yes, but small and appealing to look at.

Soobin,

Happy birthday! I hope you don’t mind that I’ve decided to celebrate. You made my birthday really special, so I wanted to return the favor. You’re really special to me in general, but since it’s your birthday, I feel like I have permission to say it. I hope that’s okay.

I’ll be honest, this is my third time trying to write this, and I want to make sure everything is right. I’m not good with words. I’ve gotten better since meeting you, though, so I’m going to try. And I promise I’m not going to say the words you don’t like.

After a year of being together, I’m starting to see that you're my person, if that makes sense. I’m happiest when I’m with you, and I don’t think you know just how significant that is for me. When we met, I wasn’t very happy. Not by anyone’s standards, really, and getting to know you has given me something to be happy about. No one has ever made me feel as loved as you. That’s not really something I can pay back, but I want you to know how grateful I am, and how much you’ve changed my life.

You deserve to be with someone better than me, and I know I cause trouble for you sometimes. I’m sorry about that. But I’m also selfish, and I don’t want you to find anyone else. So I’m just going to try to be that person, the best for you that I can be, and I hope it’s enough. And if the day comes when it isn’t, promise you’ll tell me, okay?

I really just want you to be happy. I think that means more to me than anything else, and if I make you even half as happy as you make me then I think I’m doing alright. You give me a lot to celebrate every day, and I feel like I don’t thank you enough. So, thank you. Just for being you, really. I know it’s not easy all the time, but I hope you know that I love every part of you, and admire you too, so much. You’re really beautiful to me, hyung.

Sorry I packed this with a lot of sad stuff, I got ahead of myself again; it’s not meant to be too serious. I just want you to know that I care about you a lot, and that I’m really glad you’re in my life. I’ve never met anyone like you, and I don’t think I will again. You’re so special to me. So thank you for caring about me, too. Let’s celebrate after you read this, okay?

-Your Yeonjunie

(p.s. The gift with the card is just for fun, it’s not your real birthday gift~)

Soobin spent a good few minutes just reading his letter over and over again. As a literature and language teacher, he could critique him for being disorganized, for not varying his word choice enough, for plenty of things that he reflexively noticed just as a byproduct of his career. But he didn’t care. He really, honestly, couldn't care less.

The letter touched his heart. He could feel Yeonjun in every word, his nervous energy, his desperation not to be misunderstood, his unintentional selflessness, and something akin to guilt that Soobin had never heard from him before.

Yeonjun seemed to think he was holding Soobin back from other things. Other people, maybe, as if he had someone else to love.

As if Soobin could love anyone else except for him.

His fingers were careful as he pried the lid off the long white box. It looked somewhat like a tie box.

And indeed it was. Inside lay a sophisticated silk necktie patterned with delicate silver embroidery. It looked and felt expensive, like a luxury item, and he felt almost undeserving.

Peeking out from the box’s velvet inlay was another little note.

We’ve been learning embroidery in my sewing class. I’m not perfect yet, but I made this tie last semester and I’m not really a tie person, so I thought I’d try to turn it into something nice for you. I hope you like it!

He almost couldn’t believe it; Yeonjun had made this tie by hand? And gifted it to him as if it were nothing, going so far as to reassure him that it wasn’t his actual birthday present.

Soobin quickly picked up his phone and read the text message Yeonjun had sent.

CYJ

i’m by your car. sorry about that i thought everyone else would have left by now >_<

Me

It’s okay. Come back inside.

Such a risky request, but his heart now raced for different reasons, full of adrenaline and something else, and only seeing Yeonjun could satisfy him. His emotions were on high. Higher than they had been in a long time.

CYJ

what why

Me

Yunho is gone. There’s no one left in the senior wing. Come here.

CYJ

okay…

He set Yeonjun’s gifts aside and waited at his desk, occupying himself with papers until he heard the door click open again, and all of a sudden, he felt a welcome rush of deja vu. He remembered those nights with Yeonjun, spent coming up with any way to keep him in his classroom a little longer, just so he could see his face and hear his sweet, saccharine voice.

Those were good memories, the ones they shared as teacher and student, but he liked the new ones they were making, too.

“Lock the door and sit,” Soobin said simply, finishing a comment written in the margin of one of his students’ essays. When he first started teaching, he always used to grade with a red pen. It was a habit instilled in him from his university days, and he continued it throughout his eight years of teaching. Until he met Yeonjun, who would complain about the red ink making him anxious, and requested Soobin use a blue pen on his papers instead.

He heeded Yeonjun’s request, and then it became a habit. Now, all of his comments were written in royal blue.

Yeonjun took the seat in front of him, his bag hung on the chair, and from his peripheral, Soobin could already make out the slightly-confused, slightly-annoyed look on his face. It brought a small smile to his lips. That, too, was a familiar sight. And it was so interesting to him that Yeonjun made that face while Soobin sat across from him, trying not to fall even more intensely in love.

Then it struck him, what Yeonjun meant in his letter when he wrote I promise I’m not going to write the words you don’t like.

I love you.

Those were the words he meant. Because every time Yeonjun said them, Soobin shut down. He couldn’t help it. Those three words terrified him. Yeonjun shouldn’t be in love with him. No one had ever been in love with him before. Soobin didn’t even really know what love was beyond that of his parents and brother, and he just couldn’t start with Yeonjun, who was too young and too inexperienced to understand the weight of what he said. And the way it made Soobin love him.

“Do you know why I asked you to come in here?” Soobin said quietly, and Yeonjun only grew more confused, wearing a cute, clueless expression.

“No. I thought you would just meet me at the car and we would go home.” Soobin slid his letter from his desk and held it up. Yeonjun flushed when he saw it, face pink and eyes downcast as he mumbled, “I left it here so you wouldn’t have to read it in front of me. Could you not just show it off like that?”

“Look at me,” Soobin said softly, setting it down again in favor of cupping Yeonjun’s cheek in his palm.

Yeonjun did as he asked, those sharp brown eyes flicking up to meet his gaze, and Soobin wished he knew how beautiful he was. Not beautiful like a model. He didn’t care about that. No, Yeonjun was beautiful like an angel, with his grace shining from within.

His chest felt warm when Yeonjun looked at him, and he grew less sure of himself. No one else had ever affected him in such a way.

And just for a second, the words rested on the tip of his tongue. They would be so simple to say now. It took every ounce of willpower he had to keep them inside.

Instead, he murmured, “Thank you.”

Yeonjun seemed like he wanted to say them too, but swallowed the words back for Soobin’s sake, and instead just leaned forward to kiss him.

He let it happen. It had always been a secret desire of his to kiss Yeonjun across his desk, and he knew that they most likely wouldn’t get another chance like this. Yeonjun didn’t visit his classroom often. They kissed slowly, tongues brushing together as if they had all the time in the world, and for once, Yeonjun didn’t taste like coffee. Today, he tasted like jasmine tea, the kind Soobin loved and kept stocked in his kitchen.

The warmth in his chest spread further when Yeonjun sucked on his bottom lip, biting it once before placing another kiss on his jaw.

They shouldn’t do this here. But the desk between them quickly became uncomfortable, and Yeonjun stood to come over to him. However, when Soobin grabbed him by the waist and pulled him closer, Yeonjun asked, a coy note in his voice, “Did you like it? The present?”

“Yes. It’s beautiful. You’re talented at everything you do.”

Yeonjun smiled and picked up the box, pulling the tie out to examine it. “I was going for Armani. Obviously, I still have a lot to learn, but I think it turned out okay.”

He set it down and instead slid Soobin’s suit jacket off his shoulders. Soobin glanced up at him, but Yeonjun’s gaze gave nothing away. His jacket was set aside as well, and Yeonjun perched on the edge of his desk beside it, his delicate fingers looping in the knot of the tie he currently wore.

“You look so handsome in a tie,” Yeonjun said quietly, and Soobin sat still as he undid the knot and let the fabric glide between his hands. “I used to think about it a lot.” His gaze flicked up to meet Soobin’s. “I don’t think you know how beautiful you are.”

He wasn’t. Not the way Yeonjun was beautiful. He lacked the delicacy, the movement, and the presence that true beauty held. But if Yeonjun believed that he, someone a bit antisocial, and uncoordinated, and chronically anxious could be beautiful, then that was enough for him. He believed Yeonjun. He believed that he saw him in such a way, even if he couldn’t see it himself.

“Do you remember two summers ago?" Yeonjun asked, nodding towards the back of the classroom. "You told me our relationship would never go the way I thought it would, and to forget about it."

Of course he remembered. Yeonjun seemed so different back then. Young and reckless, his boldness such a strong front. Soobin thought he was brash, tactless, and narrow-mindedly conceited. But oh so lovely just the same.

He perfectly wore the persona of a rich prep student. Now, a year and a half later, he had grown considerably. And he seemed so much more comfortable with himself.

“I was trying to convince myself more than I was trying to convince you,” he admitted, voice soft, dampened by the onsetting twilight.

“I know,” Yeonjun replied lightly. He removed the tie he had made from its box and loosely draped it around Soobin’s neck, adjusting the length to his liking. “And I knew back then, too.”

“I’m glad I was wrong.”

“You weren’t, really, though.”

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

Yeonjun was focusing on tying his tie for him, and said, “It didn’t go the way I thought it would.”

“How did you think it would go?”

“Quickly.” Yeonjun finished the knot, and pulled it up under Soobin’s collar, just tight enough. “I thought it would go by so fast that I wouldn’t even remember.”

Somehow, the revelation took him by surprise more than he thought it should. “Why?”

Looking satisfied with his handiwork, Yeonjun finally met his gaze. “I didn’t think you would want something serious. And it wasn’t something I would have held against you, either. I wasn’t sure if I even wanted that.”

The beating of his heart increased, and he knew he sounded nervous as he asked, “Is it something you still want?”

Yeonjun only just now seemed to realize he was scaring him. “Of course it is, hyung,” he said almost as if he were consoling him. “I wouldn’t want anything else. I’m happy it worked out that way. I guess I just didn’t think something like it would ever happen.” Then, confessing to something he clearly felt insecure about, Yeonjun admitted, “I’ve never been in a serious relationship before. And I know sometimes I’m not very good at it. When we’re apart, I lose track of time, and I get caught up in a lot of other things, and I don’t make as much time for us as I want to. But I’m going to work on it, okay? I promise.”

His confession put Soobin’s heart at ease. Somehow, Yeonjun knew he was feeling neglected, even without him having to say anything. It wasn’t the sort of emotional intelligence he anticipated from someone his age. He didn’t even know he was feeling that way until Yeonjun brought it up.

“You don’t have to worry too much,” Soobin said softly, and held Yeonjun’s hand between his own two bigger ones. His skin felt softer than it had a few months ago, a consequence of his new career, but he had new calluses building up on his finger pads too from holding a sewing needle, and Soobin rubbed his thumb over them. “I’m aware that you have a lot of things happening all at once, and it’s okay to be busy. You’re going to call me old after I say this, but I remember that time and I know it’s hectic.” Yeonjun smiled. “I’ll be here when you need me. I just don’t want you to become so intent on doing things right that you forget to have fun. That’s really all I worry about. Does that make sense?”

Yeonjun looked so pretty, nodding along in understanding. “Yes, hyung.”

Soobin drew his hand up to his lips and placed a delicate kiss on his knuckles. “You can tell me if I ever need to work on anything, too, okay? I’ll listen.”

Wearing a light look of mischief, Yeonjun asked, “You promise?”

They both knew listening wasn’t always his strong suit, especially when it came to Yeonjun.

He chuckled. “Yes, I promise.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun agreed, and slid his hand out from Soobin’s grasp, instead holding his cheek before drawing him close to kiss him again. Soobin gladly leaned into it, hands finding Yeonjun’s waist, and he wondered if he would ever have the courage to tell him he was in love with him, too.

The thought of losing him only cemented it in Soobin’s mind. He couldn’t stand the thought of Yeonjun being with anyone else when they were so clearly meant to be together. What if, someday, Yeonjun did these same things for someone who wasn’t Soobin? What if he made them a birthday gift, and handwrote them letters, and kissed them as if they were the only one for him? He made Soobin feel significant, more so than he’d felt all his life. He could easily do the same for another.

Soobin needed him. Was that the same thing as love? He wanted it to be, because otherwise, he had no idea what this feeling was. He was desperate for him, yes. Desperate for him to stay, to live in a world where the two of them only needed each other, and for him to love Soobin every day the way he did right now. That had to be love.

On the topic, he was just as naive as Yeonjun. Neither of them knew, really, but he felt confident as he sat there, Yeonjun’s long legs fit between his own, head tilted up to kiss him. Yeonjun’s fingers felt warm and safe where they brushed against his cheek and he had started to taste like home.

That had to be love.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun breathed against his lips. “Can I take you home?”

He smiled, and kissed him one more time. “Please.”

They went home, and did their best to keep their hands off one another in the car. Yeonjun made it easier by telling him about his day. Apparently he found out that his creative fashion design professor used to be a model as well, and was the one who alerted his agency about him in the first place. They didn’t just cast him randomly, and that made Soobin feel a little bit better about the whole thing for some reason.

The drive felt short, and they arrived back at his building soon enough.

Yeonjun let him enter the apartment first, muttering as he struggled with the laces on his boots, and when he flicked on the lights, his heart momentarily stopped.

What immediately caught his eye were the streamers, light blue and yellow, hanging in the doorways. There were a few balloons spelling out Happy Birthday as well, and other festive decorations here and there.

However, after a few seconds of looking around, he noticed one very distinct change.

Several more picture frames hung on the walls. And as Soobin stepped closer to examine one, he realized they were all filled with his own photographs, the ones that had been gathering dust on his tv stand for years. A picture of him with his friends from college, the sunset over the Han River taken five years ago, a sepia photograph of his favorite restaurant in Ansan. His memories now hung from the walls, happier and clearer than before.

He glanced back at Yeonjun to see him waiting for his reaction. And as soon as Soobin looked at him, he hurriedly said, “I hope you don’t mind. I just knew you’d been meaning to get around to it and you’re busy, so I thought I would help out. You can rearrange however you want. And, um, I couldn’t display all of them without it getting cluttered, so…” He walked quickly over to the bookcase where he retrieved a new glossy leather-bound photo album and held it out to Soobin. “The rest are in here.”

Soobin received the photo album without speaking, afraid he might accidentally cry if he tried to talk, and instead opened it, flipping through all of the pages to see his photographs neatly arranged in clear sleeves, separated out by year.

“I, um, made dinner, too since you were working late. I figured you probably didn’t want to go out.”

He shook his head, set the album aside, and took one step closer to Yeonjun before kissing him.

No one had ever done something so thoughtful for him in his life. Not for any occasion, even his coming-of-age day, or when he returned from his military service.

It wasn’t an expensive gift, or something extravagant. And it didn’t need to be. He never had much liking for those types of things anyway. Yeonjun knew that about him, and knew he would appreciate this so much more.

“Thank you,” he whispered softly, their foreheads pressed together. He felt Yeonjun’s fingers run through his hair.

They ate with the lights dimmed; Yeonjun had found a few of his scented candles and lit those to create a nice atmosphere. The apartment felt warm and comfortable, and they sat closer than usual. He made lamb- it was delicious. Yeonjun didn’t eat much himself, claiming he didn’t want to get too full, but they still sat there for a long time.

Yeonjun eventually brought out a pastel yellow cake topped with glazed strawberries. This, he had picked up at a bakery, and it spelled out happy birthday and his name in white icing.

Soobin realized now why he had wanted to know his favorite color so badly. Why he said it was important. As he stood to blow out the candles, Yeonjun said, “Hyung, let me take a picture!” before retrieving the camera Soobin had given him for his own birthday from his tote bag.

And so, that memory was captured, too. Afterwards, Soobin took one of his own, a picture of Yeonjun standing in the kitchen, a natural smile on his face as he boxed up their leftovers for the evening.

The evening was wonderful, really. They went to bed together after an hour or so spent in the living room, and Yeonjun let Soobin have him the way he liked. Afterwards, they took a long shower, and went to sleep.

It was such a pleasant night. The sort of simple bliss he had been missing in their relationship. And it might have been the best birthday he’s ever had.

However, in passing, one thought ate at him. He didn’t make Yeonjun’s birthday nearly so special, even if he said in his letter that it had been good. Yeonjun had specifically asked that he not make a big deal out of it, and so he didn’t. They went out for dinner, Soobin gave him his camera, and he spent the night. It was lovely, certainly, but not in the same way. He would remember this night for years to come, and he didn’t think Yeonjun felt the same way about his own birthday.

Soobin never knew how to make things memorable for Yeonjun. Because, really, he had no idea what Yeonjun liked. Everything seemed to make him happy, as long as Soobin was the one doing it.

Maybe that was okay. Maybe Yeonjun preferred it that way. It’s not like Soobin hadn’t tried to convince him to open up. Yeonjun’s walls only came down so far. Something stopped him from being fully himself, but perhaps it was just his youth. He didn’t really know himself yet, so how could he share that with anyone else?

Yeonjun would blossom in time. Soobin just hoped he knew how much he meant to him.

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

The room spun, pretty distracting blurs from Kai’s fairy lights drawing ribbons behind Yeonjun’s eyelids every time he blinked. They sat together on his bed, sharing a bottle of soju. Kai’s laptop lay open at the edge of the comforter where he left it abandoned when they went out with Beomgyu and some of his musician friends earlier. And that guy he was currently dating because he worked at the nearest music store and Beomgyu wanted a new guitar. That was fun. The screen sat paused on an episode of Kai’s current favorite anime. They changed every week.

Yeonjun played with one of Kai’s plush rabbits- it was pink and soft, and reminded him of someone. He squeezed its ears and laughed as he listened to Kai try to talk about fractals.

“Okay, so imagine something like, endless and completely arbitrary, but super detailed and complex at the same time,” Kai explained, gesturing with his hands. His cheeks were flushed from all the drinking. But he never seemed to get as drunk as Yeonjun, still completely cognizant, just a little more animated.

“If it’s arbitrary, why does it matter?”

Kai shook his head. “No, no, like arbitrary in math terms.”

Yeonjun stared. He felt hot; even all the mathematics talk couldn’t temper his alcohol-induced fever. “I don’t know what that means.” A snort escaped him as soon as he said it, and he fell back against Kai’s pillows.

“Like…really small.” Kai was laughing too, maybe only because Yeonjun was laughing, and he took another drink of soju before setting it on the table. “Tiny.”

“Molecular,” Yeonjun said with a clap of his hands, and he thought he sounded pretty smart. Sciences really weren’t his thing. Kai made them fun, though. Not in a way where Yeonjun learned anything, but in a way where it gave him something to briefly contemplate and then immediately give up on.

“Well, no. I mean, maybe? Most geometric fractals are theoretical and abstract, so they have no actual molecular structure.” However, even as Kai disagreed, he had a smile on his face, as if it wasn’t all that ridiculous of a guess. His smile was sweet and pure, that of an angel. When Yeonjun first met him, his smile made him jealous. He looked like he had never seen anything bad, and maybe wouldn’t his entire life. Yeonjun wanted that. He wanted it desperately.

And he completely lost him there. “How have you had two cocktails, a beer, and now that bottle of soju, and you’re able to remember shit like that?”

When Yeonjun used to sneak beers with Taehyun, they were both lightweights and got drunk right around the same time. Beomgyu was marginally better than them, which he used to think wasn’t fair at all, but Kai stood on a whole other level.

Kai shrugged. “Because it’s right in front of me all the time. Like, look.” He pointed a long, pretty finger at their popcorn ceiling. They were made for playing piano. He had nice nails. They looked like the inside of a seashell, coral and rounded. Things like that made him happy. “You could argue that all of those shapes are fractals because they have infinite formations, and no set parameters except for the edges of the room. It’s stuff you see everyday. Like tree branches. Or snowflakes. It’s just a pattern.”

Yeonjun blinked, looking at the ceiling. “Everything is a fractal,” he realized, tipsy and awestruck.

“Your eyes remind me of fractals,” Kai hummed, turning to rest his head on his arm and look at him. “I think about it sometimes.”

His chest lurched, with a feeling both familiar and exhilarating. For a second, he thought maybe he was going to be sick, and then he realized it was a good feeling. He rolled onto his side as well so he could face him better. “That’s so romantic,” he breathed. “You have to remember that line. Pickup lines for math majors.”

Kai laughed, and it was such an innocent, joyous sound. Something about Kai always reminded him of his childhood, when things weren’t so complicated. He used to laugh like that a lot, or so his hazy memories tell him. “I did remember it. Just now.”

Yeonjun wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, but you can’t waste it on me. It’s okay, I’ll pretend I’ve never heard it when you use it on someone else.”

“Just practicing,” Kai hummed, and Yeonjun had the fleeting thought that his eyes were like fractals, too, endless and beautiful. A different shade of brown than his own, so many precious pockets of light and dark that he thought they resembled stained glass. The pretty kind, with sunlight filtering in through the paint.

There was another pair of pretty eyes that he missed. Dark, like velvet nightfall, and wide like a doe’s.

“Your side of the room is so much more fun than mine,” he complained, bringing his head a little closer to Kai’s on the pillow and tucking his rabbit in against his chest. “Why don’t you ever invite me over?”

“Your bed is barely a meter away.”

Yeonjun glanced at the far side of the room, where all of his stuff sat dark and lifeless. He didn’t even have a lamp on, and his bed was empty apart from the black comforter and two gray pillows. There was nothing on the walls. All of his personal positions were either tucked away under the bed or organized in the closet. Completely out of sight. “There’s nothing there.”

“Why don’t you fill it with stuff?” Kai suggested.

A strange sensation of emptiness washed over him. “I have nothing to fill it with. I don’t like…anything.”

“You like lots of things,” Kai protested. “You like drawing, and watching movies, and playing piano. And you like animals, and clothes, and all kinds of stuff.”

Yeonjun looked back at him, propping himself up on his elbow. He barely knew he liked those things. Clothes, maybe. He got paid for it, after all. But he stopped loving them so much when wearing them became a job, and suddenly other people had control over his body and the way he looked. Still, Kai’s words surprised him. “How do you know all that?”

Kai’s brow furrowed, and he looked cute when he didn’t know what a question meant. Maybe he wasn’t often faced with problems that had indistinct answers. Words weren’t really his thing. Not that they were Yeonjun’s, either, but he thought he was getting better with time. “It’s just…the stuff you talk about, I guess. And the things I see you doing.”

Did he really pay so much attention to him? “I’ve never played the piano in front of you.”

“No,” Kai agreed after a moment of hesitation. “But I saw you. When you were in Beomgyu’s practice room, and you asked if I wanted to get coffee with you guys. I saw from the hall. You were really good. I- I play too, so I just noticed.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun’s voice came out in a whisper. He didn’t know what to say, but the revelation touched him in a fragile, unfamiliar place. Kai and his pretty pianist hands watched him play the piano and thought he was good.

“Sorry if that’s weird.” Kai sheepishly rubbed the back of his own neck, and it made Yeonjun want to reassure him.

“It’s sweet. Thank you.” People complimented him a lot. It rarely felt genuine. More than anything, it felt like they all wanted something from him. Never friendship. Usually money or influence. Which weren’t things he had enough of to give away, despite what everyone thought. Sometimes sex. He couldn’t give that away, either, and he wished people would stop trying to force it from him.

He felt nauseous again at the thought. His memories were still cloudy. Maybe he really did drink too much.

A few seconds passed in silence, and Yeonjun turned his face back up towards the lights, asking, “Do you like me?”

Kai sounded confused even as he answered, “Of course I like you.”

“But you don’t have to, though.”

“Why would I feel like I have to?”

Yeonjun shrugged. “I don’t know. We live together, but we don’t have a ton in common. Sometimes I feel like I bother you.”

“Have I ever said that you bother me?”

“Well, no.”

“So why do you think that?”

His tone of voice sounded weirdly familiar. Why did everyone always talk like that to him?

“I think…” He hesitated, unsure if he wanted to reveal so much to someone he had only known for a few months. But then again, he had done worse. “I think I bother most people. I’m…too much.”

So many people in his life always told him that. His mom, with his choices in fashion, and his preference for men, and his constant attempts to carve out his own place in the world without her help. He had only asked her for help once, and because of what she said that day, he resolved to never ask her again.

Taehyun, when Yeonjun got too loud, or too excited, or just generally over the top. He felt more guilty about that. He knew Taehyun could only take so much. Growing up, his house sat in oppressive silence, and it made him sensitive. Sometimes Yeonjun forgot. And just as he resolved to try harder, Taehyun got accepted into law school and moved to the other side of the city.

Even Soobin. His heart skipped a beat. Soobin. When Soobin said it, at least, he never felt like it was malicious. Just that they were different, and Yeonjun overwhelmed him sometimes. Soobin was soft, and sweet, and simple. His life was made up of little things, and when one got knocked out of place, it ruined his carefully-constructed peace of mind. In being with him, Yeonjun learned to be more cautious and considerate. Soobin knew so much, but it was hard to make him talk about anything. He lived inside his own head most of the time. It baffled Yeonjun why Soobin even liked him at all when they were so different. He couldn’t show Soobin anything he didn’t already know, and when he tried, Soobin shut down. New things scared him.

And so he learned to be cautious.

When they first met, Yeonjun just thought he was handsome. So very handsome, with his doe eyes, and pretty smile, and dimples that he could see from several meters away. Too old for him, sure, but then again, maybe not.

He didn’t actually think that they would be compatible. At first, he simply decided to try his luck for the hell of it. That first night, he just thought it would be fun. And then he got to know him more.

Soobin looked so lonely. Sitting in class, Yeonjun could tell. He was quiet and complacent, and it made his heart ache for him, knowing just how much of life he chose to miss out on for fear of seeing a new side of himself. It was his smile, really, that made Yeonjun want to try. When he smiled at that woman he was with, promising to win her a toy, that smile was fake and forced, and Yeonjun realized what was making him so unhappy.

But the first time Yeonjun saw him truly smile, he knew he couldn’t just let him go. He had been lecturing in class, maybe on the first day, just walking through their syllabus. And then he started talking about their contemporary literature unit, promising that they should look forward to it, and his smile was so pretty and genuine. Finally, something Soobin cared about.

It compelled him. Drew him in, and even though he knew he was playing a dangerous game, it felt worth the risk.

He knew Soobin found him physically attractive, and he didn’t think it was all that strange. People usually found him attractive. Soobin wasn’t even the first older man to approach him in such a way, but he was the first one Yeonjun believed wasn’t just looking to sleep with him. The first that didn’t try to take anything from him. Thinking so reminded him of a lie he had told Soobin, but he only lied because he thought it would matter to him.

He didn’t care about his first time being special. That wish had been taken from him before he got around to confessing it. But he wanted Soobin to feel special, and so he lied anyway. He would understand.

Soobin treated him so gently. That was enough to make him really consider it. Soobin had repressed his sexuality all his life, and Yeonjun knew he had to be patient with him. He wanted to be the one to help him, and break him out of the cage he’d built around himself. It was killing him, slowly but surely, and Yeonjun couldn’t bear to let that happen.

He wanted to help Soobin. Was that so wrong? To the point where he couldn’t tell anyone, not even his closest friends, that he was in love? Soobin would never forgive him if he did, and so Yeonjun learned to keep secrets, too. His greatest source of happiness concealed as if it never happened at all, and sometimes it made even him believe that it never did. Like he had made it all up, and when he wasn’t with Soobin, it stopped being real. It was such an easy trap to fall into, even easier when he remembered that Soobin didn’t love him at all.

Nothing in his life hurt more than the realization that Soobin would never let himself love him. No matter what Yeonjun said, or did, or promised, Soobin was too afraid. Even if Yeonjun gave him everything he had, which wasn’t much admittedly, Soobin would rather him take it back than accept him into his heart. Despite knowing that Yeonjun loved him, or maybe even because of it.

It was stupid, confessing when he did. And he really shouldn’t have said it twice. He just didn’t like keeping secrets, and he knew Soobin didn’t like it either. So he thought telling him would make it easier on both of them, he just hadn’t considered the consequences. Because now Soobin knew. He knew Yeonjun loved him, and it made him run. Things weren’t the same, not even close to the way they had been before Yeonjun ruined everything. Soobin was too cautious around him now, flighty, like a rabbit treading the edges of a forest clearing. It was safe. Yeonjun wouldn’t hurt him. But he anticipated it now nonetheless.

Sometimes, Yeonjun couldn’t tell if it was because he happened to be the first man Soobin tried to be in a relationship with, or just because of who he was as an individual. They weren’t similar. And even in being with him, Soobin still shied away from discussing anything related to homosexuality that didn’t have to do with their relationship. It scared him, to be honest. Not so much how dependent Soobin was on feminizing him -he could live with that if it made Soobin’s life easier even if he didn’t like it all that much- but of how Soobin might turn against him if he did anything too gay.

Soobin treated him like he would the kind of girl his parents wanted him to marry. He called him cute and pretty, and wanted to see him all dressed up, and liked when he cooked for him. As if he was trying to groom him into something he’s not, or maybe just the person he wished he would be. He had this strange misconception that Yeonjun was somehow fragile and incapable of taking care of himself, and that he put himself in danger just by walking around alone at night. He had no idea how to communicate to Soobin that he was an adult man, over 180cm tall, and most likely more fit than Soobin himself.

The more interested in fashion and design that Yeonjun got, the more he realized that he liked to blur the lines between genders when it came to self-expression, but he didn’t like when Soobin refused to see his masculine sides. They were part of his expression, an innate element of his core. But Soobin took his developing expressive interests and tried to turn them into something they weren’t. He encouraged certain things and showed a specific distaste for others. And he was afraid of saying anything, because the last time he reminded someone that he was a man, not a girl, who just happened to be attracted to other men, he got called a series of creative slurs by his own father and kicked out of his house. And…everything that happened in between.

“Kai,” he suddenly said, scrambling to pick up the pieces of his own fragmented thoughts. “You know I’m gay, right?”

Kai gave him another sweet, understanding smile. “Yeah. I know.”

He didn’t deserve his kindness. “That doesn’t bother you?”

“Why would it? I like boys, too. I mean, I like everyone to be honest.”

Yeonjun laughed- it fit. “Of course you do.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” Kai asked indignantly, sitting up.

Mirroring his movement, Yeonjun explained, “Nothing! It just means that I think it makes sense. I’ve never seen anyone as friendly or accepting as you. So, everyone else is pretty lucky, I guess, because that means they all have a chance with you. It’s cute.”

With a disbelieving snort, Kai said, “I don’t think anyone is all that lucky. Especially not me.”

“Why not?”

“Because what if I don’t have a chance with the person that I like?”

A frown found its way onto his face, and he reached out in concern, tucking a strand of Kai’s bleached hair behind his ear. “Why wouldn’t you have a chance with them?”

He honestly couldn’t imagine a world where anyone would dislike Huening Kai. No one who exchanged more than a sentence with him didn’t immediately see how much of an angel he was.

Kai still smiled, but it looked a little sad now, and he touched his hair where Yeonjun’s hand had just been. “They’re with someone else.”

“Oh.” He supposed that was the only reality where Kai couldn’t win. No matter how much you liked someone, if they loved someone else, you wouldn’t be able to change their minds. It hurt his heart, though, knowing Kai had to endure something like that every day. “I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Kai replied with an easy shrug, and he reached for their soju bottle again, taking a swig of it before passing it to him. The rice wine tasted sweeter the longer they drank it, and Yeonjun finished the bottle. It warmed him from the inside. “I’m happy as long as they’re happy, you know? It’s not like I really know what I’m missing out on. I’ve never even had my first kiss.”

“You’ve never-” The words were out of his mouth before he could even think, too lost in his own disbelief. “I mean, that’s not a bad thing, I just…why not?”

He couldn’t imagine never having kissed someone. Kissing was fun, he supposed, although he had never thought about it that much. Each kiss became its own moment, but at the same time, they didn’t have to mean anything at all. Kissing was just a cute way of letting someone know they’re special to you.

In his mind, there had always been a difference between romantic kissing and other kinds of kissing. Flirty kissing, platonic kissing, sexual kissing…these were all separate, and to him, meant separate things. He knew not everyone saw it that way. And maybe it was just because he liked the activity so much. To be fair, he had only ever romantically kissed a single man in his life, but he wasn’t sure Soobin saw it as something so special, either.

But Kai seemed to struggle as he admitted, “I’ve never had anyone that I really wanted to kiss.”

“Not even your friends?”

Kai glanced at him. “You kiss your friends?”

Yeonjun blinked- he asked like it was an anomaly. When he, Beomgyu, and Taehyun were younger, they kissed all the time. As a joke, obviously, and maybe it was more him and Beomgyu because Taehyun thought they were weird, but it wasn’t that uncommon among all their other friend groups, either. It was just something that they did because they didn’t have anyone else to kiss. They were just high school kids experimenting. He thought everyone did that. “Of course. I mean, for fun, mostly. You’ve never done that?”

“Um, no. I don’t think it works quite the same in America, to be honest. Guys are…different. And even though I hung out with a lot of girls, it was very PG.”

“Sometimes I forget you grew up there,” Yeonjun admitted. “I guess it’s not really the same.”

“You also went to an all-boys school,” Kai pointed out.

“That’s…also true,” he agreed. Some of his new university friends from other schools would sometimes comment on his academy stories and mention that things like that didn’t happen in public or co-ed schools. He didn’t know. They were just the experiences he had, and because of that, thought everyone went through similar things. Soobin sometimes told him he had a narrow world view, and maybe he was right on occasion.

“I don’t know, sometimes I just feel, like, left out of something…” Kai ventured with a sigh, and reached over to get another bottle of soju from their mini fridge. In the back of his mind, Yeonjun thought he was kind of cute, drinking his problems away while laying in his bed surrounded by Pokemon plushies. The juxtaposition of innocence made him sympathize even more because he remembered being like that.

They were the same age, but sometimes Yeonjun felt so much older than everyone else around him. Soobin always said he was mature for his age, and at some point, he had taken to believing him. Otherwise, they wouldn’t get along so well with all those years in between. And Soobin certainly wasn’t immature, so he supposed the outlier had to be him.

Something in him attracted older guys. It was the only pattern he could discern, and if it wasn’t his maturity, then what else could it be?

“You could kiss me,” he offered. It felt like the mature thing to do. “If it really bothers you.”

Kai shot up, wearing an alarmed expression. Their bottle opener was still clutched in his hand. “No, I can’t. You have a boyfriend.”

Yeonjun frowned. “It’s not like that. Wait- how do you know about my boyfriend? Have I mentioned him before?”

Soobin didn’t like the word boyfriend. It was strange to say it now in reference to him.

“Well, no. But I kinda did the math. You disappear somewhere pretty much every weekend with a bag of clothes and you come back covered in hickeys. Plus, you leave the room to talk on the phone all the time, but stay in here when you’re talking to your parents. I don’t know, am I wrong?”

Yeonjun hesitated before answering, “...No.”

“That’s what I thought.” Kai sounded satisfied, and popped the lid off his soju. It clattered to the floor, and Yeonjun knew he would be the one to pick it up in the morning. It’s not that Kai didn’t clean up after himself, he just usually forgot when it came to little things. “Here,” Kai offered him the first sip, and he took it gratefully.

Once the alcohol moved past his lips, he suddenly said, “I don’t think my boyfriend likes me very much.”

“What?” Kai sounded shocked, and set the bottle aside. “Why would you think that?”

“I think…” he paused. The words had to come out right, otherwise Soobin would sound like a bad person. He wasn’t a bad person. But sometimes he left Yeonjun feeling…neglected? That wasn’t right. Small, maybe. Less important. “Sometimes I only think that he’s with me because he’s afraid that if he broke up with me he wouldn’t find anyone else. Like I’m…his safe plan B. Even though there’s nothing safe about it at all.”

He had no one to tell, no one he could feel safe confiding in him, but in talking with Kai now, he was already skirting the line Soobin always so explicitly made him promise not to cross. Guilt overwhelmed him. He shouldn’t be saying this much, but he needed to say something. The only person he could really talk to was Soobin, and they didn’t always want to talk about the same things. Soobin wouldn’t want to talk about this at all.

Tears pricked at his eyes, and he was quick to clench his jaw, fighting them back. Everything made him cry. The present, the past, sometimes even worries about the future. He didn’t want to let it happen tonight.

Kai spoke gently as he asked, “Why isn’t it safe?”

Yeonjun shook his head. “It’s not like that. Not what you’re thinking.” He messed it up; he shouldn’t have said anything at all, and now his roommate thought Soobin was abusing him or something. Soobin wouldn’t ever hurt him. Not intentionally. “He’s really good to me. I just know that I’m not what he’s looking for, either.” When Kai waited patiently for him to say more, it was like he couldn’t stop himself. Over a year of keeping this secret pounded at the wall he had built up, fighting to tear it down. “He wants to settle down with someone his family approves of, a girl his family approves of, and live out his life quietly. And I’m just…I’m not any of those things. Obviously I’m not a girl. And I’m not ready to settle down, I’m not quiet, and his family would hate me anyway. It just feels like we’re…stuck.” Then he looked at Kai, and once again, his throat felt tight. “But I love him so much. He knows that, and he doesn’t love me. And there’s…nothing I can do about it.”

He watched Kai’s face crumple in sympathy, and the first tears slipped down his cheeks despite everything he had done to hold them back. “If he doesn’t love you,” Kai said carefully, reaching out to cup his cheeks and brush the tears away. His hands were warm and soft, and almost as big as the ones he missed so desperately. “Then why are you still with him?”

“I keep thinking he might,” he confessed quietly. “Like, I’ll wake up one day, and he’ll suddenly be in love with me. Not in the way where I’m a placeholder or something he’s just trying out. Like someday he’ll understand the way I feel about him.”

“I’m sorry,” Kai whispered, and he looked near tears himself, eyes bright and glassy. Yeonjun thought he was apologizing out of pity, and then he felt the bed dip as Kai leaned forward and suddenly his mouth was fitted against his own. He shut his eyes on instinct and let Kai kiss him even though he didn’t understand at all why it was happening. Yes, he had offered. But Kai turned him down, told him he couldn’t, and Yeonjun thought they had moved on. His lips were soft, and he tasted like soju, mimicking the alcohol with the way his kiss warmed him from the inside.

He hasn't kissed anyone except Soobin in a long time. The shape of his mouth was so memorable to him, round and doll-like, and Kai’s lips were different. It felt weird, but not bad, necessarily. It wasn’t romantic. At least, he didn’t think it was.

When he felt Kai’s warm palm on his bare shoulder, he only just then realized he had taken his shirt off at some point. Was Kai wearing a shirt? He didn’t remember.

Admittedly, it started to feel nice, as if Kai was simply kissing him because he wanted to, and not because he was trying to take anything more from him.

As soon as Yeonjun let the thought touch his mind, another wave of guilt washed over him.

Soobin never had any alternative motives, and it was wrong of him to even suggest it. Other people always thought that about him, anyway, and Yeonjun refused to contribute. It just wasn’t true. Even when they first started going out, it was always him encouraging Soobin to do more, try more, go farther. Soobin didn’t push any boundaries or ask anything of him, so much to the point where Yeonjun got genuinely frustrated with him. For a while, he wondered if he was imagining it all. Did Soobin even find him attractive or was he just indulging Yeonjun’s growing desire for romance? At first, he thought Soobin was most likely irritated with his constant attempts to win his affection, and took him out as an act of pity. He hadn’t expected Soobin to take him out at all, actually. When he suggested it as a joke, he thought Soobin would brush it off and persuade him to just sleep with him instead. It’s what Yeonjun had been aiming for in the beginning, but Soobin took him so seriously that he almost felt bad telling him he was just kidding.

At least the longer they dated, the less Yeonjun believed that pity had been the motivator. With time, Soobin opened up to him and became not only receptive but excited. Excited to see him, and touch him, and be with him. It felt…right. Like their relationship was finally whole, but if that were true, why would he be plagued with so many doubts now?

Maybe in every relationship, moments like this were natural. He just had to breathe and let it pass.

Like he was breathing through his nose now and letting Kai kiss him until he was satisfied.

When they broke apart, Kai had a dazed, drunken look in his eyes. They were dark and hazy, and lingered on his own. But he seemed to come to himself, and the look evaporated, replaced by one of shame as he said, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have- I didn’t mean to. Or I should have asked. It’s not-”

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun interrupted him, faking a smile. He didn’t want to deal with Kai’s guilt. He had his own plateful of it. “I told you that you could. I’m sorry if it was a bad first kiss.”

Kai shook his head, and scooted back on the bed from him a little, giving them space from one another. “It wasn’t. Um, thanks.”

“Don’t thank me, it’s weird,” he reprimanded with a light laugh, and reached over to grab their drink. “Anyway, it’s not like it means anything. Think of it like a practice kiss. For the first person you end up going out with, or whatever.”

“Right…” Kai said slowly in agreement, and accepted the bottle when Yeonjun passed it to him. He pursed his lips in a pout, then loudly declared, “Let’s get drunk.”

That wasn’t a bad idea, honestly. He was thinking too much already, and the effect from their earlier drinking was starting to wear off. “Sounds good to me.”

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

In the morning, he awoke in his own bed, on top of the blankets, and with only the faintest suggestion of a hangover. He felt a little groggy, and patted the mattress until he located his phone, only to see that it was nearly eleven. When he managed to flip onto his back, he noticed that Kai had left sometime earlier, his bed unmade and shoes gone, which meant he didn’t have a breakfast buddy.

He shot a quick text to Beomgyu- he had to take someone out. His stomach felt so empty, alcohol only satisfying him temporarily. He had gone too long without a coffee.

Me

yo choi beomgyu are u alive

gyubear

ow

Me

ow?

gyubear

yeah

Me

did u drink that much

gyubear

no i hit my hand on the table when u texted

Me

well maybe don’t do that next time

gyubear

maybe have more sympathy^^~

Me

are u still with ur guy? sorry i don’t remember his name

gyubear

no i kicked him out last night

Me

why

gyubear

beep next question

Me

ok let me buy u breakfast

gyubear

that’s not a question ?? and i ate like an hour ago

Me

ok and

gyubear

and we should go get pancakes. at the place that does the shapes

Me

cool see u in 10

Beomgyu was kind of weird. Yeonjun loved that about him. It’s what made them friends in the first place. They just sort…clicked. On a weird-meets-weird level. He and his two best friends were close because they only felt normal with each other. Beomgyu had grown up scrutinized by his parents for his sexuality; tensions were always high in their house and their financial situation didn’t help. He had been working some sort of odd job every single day since Yeonjun met him during his first year at the academy. He still worked all the time, and sent a lot of money back home. But his scholarship gave him some form of escape, and Yeonjun had felt so happy and relieved when he decided to stay in Seoul for university.

Taehyun…he didn’t like thinking about all the things that went on behind closed doors in Taehyun’s house. Yeonjun had never met more horrible parents in his life- his own didn’t even compare. To say he was relieved when Taehyun moved to the other side of the city for school would be an understatement. He just wished he could see him more these days.

All they had was each other. It had been that way for years, and he felt kind of bad for being the one to change things. He moved on first, spending all of his time with Soobin, and he didn’t like feeling as though he had left them behind. His friends were so important to him. But he just didn’t have the time or energy to balance everything, between school, work, and his relationship.

Things got so much more complicated with age. So the time he had just reserved with Beomgyu was precious.

It didn’t take long to find a shirt, brush his teeth, and head out, and when he arrived at the on-campus breakfast joint, he found Beomgyu already sitting at a booth tucked in the corner, a waitress just now dropping off his coffee.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greeted him as he sat, and the waitress asked for his drink order as well before disappearing back into the kitchen.

“You look like you had a really boring night,” Beomgyu commented, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes. Still, the sight of him was nice. Familiar. He sat in the sunshine, the ghost of a smile always light on his lips, and he wore a light brown cardigan. The one Yeonjun had bought him for his birthday last March.

“We were out for like three hours and I only had a few drinks, what did you think I was gonna do? Vandalism? No, I went home.” His Americano arrived, hot today because he needed to clear his head, and he sipped it before asking, “What did you do?”

As if it were a crime, Beomgyu admitted, “I just went home, too. Worked on music for a little while and then crashed.” He nodded. They didn’t have to kill themselves every weekend, even though their seniors always swore that’s what college was about. “Why didn’t you invite Huening? He loves this place. He always gets the penguin pancakes.”

Yeonjun shrugged. “I would’ve, but he was gone when I woke up. Pretty impressive considering he out-drank both of us.”

Beomgyu shook his head. “I swear that guy can’t get drunk.”

“It’s weird,” he agreed. “Kind of a cool superpower, though.”

Their waitress returned to take their orders, jotting down Beomgyu’s chocolate chip bear pancakes and Yeonjun’s strawberry duck ones.

“How’s Soobin?” Beomgyu asked over the lip of his mug once she left.

“Fine, I think,” he replied mindlessly. “We haven’t talked in a couple days, but I know he’s busy with exam prep, so-” He paused, the realization just now dawning on him, and he tried to backtrack. “Wait, I mean-”

“Oh my god.” Beomgyu’s gaze was triumphant, more satisfied with his own success than Yeonjun’s response.

“What?” he immediately said defensively, and set his coffee down.

“You’re actually going out with him. I thought Taehyun was joking.”

“I’m not-” he started, but didn’t know how to finish. “We’re just…Taehyun told you?”

Beomgyu nodded. “Yeah, we went drinking a couple weeks ago and he let it slip. I’m just kinda pissed that you would tell him and not me.”

“I didn’t tell him,” Yeonjun muttered, repeating what he had promised Soobin forever ago. As he said it, he tried not to be annoyed with the fact that the two of them went out without him. “He figured it out on his own.”

“Really?” Beomgyu’s dark eyebrows shot up. “Because Taehyun told me that you told him that you were dating an older guy. And that you liked him a lot. Your words not his, he said.”

“I didn’t mean to,” he protested, and it was true.

Taehyun had caught him off guard, much like Beomgyu did just a moment ago, springing the question on him while he was distracted with putting in his earrings. They were just sitting on his bedroom floor; Taehyun had stayed over the night before. It didn’t happen often because his parents were so strict. Especially when it came to spending time with him.

“I told him that I was going out with a guy and needed him to cover. He asked me what the guy was like, so I just said he was a little older than me. And handsome. And smart. And that I liked him. That could be literally anyone.”

Beomgyu didn’t look impressed as he reminded him, “Twice your age isn’t a ‘little older.’ Especially not when he’s our homeroom teacher.”

“He’s no longer my teacher and he’s not twice my age,” Yeonjun dismissed him. “I’m nineteen. He’s thirty-three. That’s only fourteen years.”

“You just turned nineteen, and he just turned thirty-four.”

Yeonjun glared at him. “Why do you know his birthday?”

Beomgyu shrugged, wearing a mischievous half-smile. “You’re not the only one who thought he was hot.”

That was true. He remembered what everyone had been saying when Soobin replaced their old teacher. Young and handsome enough to star in a drama, such a breath of fresh air from all of their other strict, balding educators. All of the guys gossipped about him. At least, the ones who were into men. Even the ones who weren’t still wanted to get on his good side. The new teacher was so quiet and mysterious. And if Yeonjun found that sexy, he knew other students were bound to as well.

And for a moment, a seed of doubt planted itself in him. What if he wasn’t the only student Soobin took a liking to? What if he was flirting with another guy right now, wearing the same uniform that he did for years, and telling him all the sweet things he told Yeonjun? That he was pretty, and special, and that he liked him more than anyone else.

“Woah, are you okay?” Beomgyu suddenly asked, and Yeonjun realized he must have been making a rather concerning face.

“Yeah, I’m good. Just…can you keep it a secret? Please? It would be really bad for him if anything about us got out.”

“Sure, but why are you so worried? You’re graduated, what you do is your business.”

While that was all good and well, he and Soobin started dating almost a year ago. When Yeonjun was still very much his student.

“It’s just better,” he said, and took a self-conscious drink of his coffee.

Beomgyu nodded. “Are you like…I mean, I’m not trying to pry, but are you guys dating? Or is it just-“

“We’re dating,” Yeonjun immediately clarified. He didn’t want there to be any confusion. Soobin was his. And he was Soobin’s. It was incredibly simple, actually. “It’s not anything else. It’s just a normal relationship.”

Beomgyu didn’t look like he believed him. And that was fine. Everyone thought what they wanted about his relationship, anyway, and he was sick of feeling like he had to change people’s minds. Beomgyu would be too stubborn to be convinced of anything else, anyway. Still, he just said, “Cool,” and started complaining about his midterms schedule.

He appreciated the subject change, knowing now that he’d accidentally let the details of their relationship slip to not just one, but two people. Soobin would be so disappointed in him if he found out, especially after Yeonjun promised so many times that he could keep their secret.

For a moment, he wrestled with the dilemma of telling him. Wouldn’t it be better if he just came clean? Soobin would be twice as angry if he somehow found out about it from someone else. He would definitely prefer it if Yeonjun told him. But then he’d also definitely have to bear the consequences, and if he said nothing, more than likely it would remain just a harmless little secret. Soobin kept plenty of those from him.

He wondered if Soobin would be angry about him kissing Kai. It wasn’t anything serious, and it wasn’t like he had any feelings for him. He was just trying to do something nice.

Of course, Soobin wouldn’t see it that way. He took everything so seriously. Then again, Soobin had never really shown himself to be the jealous type, either, except for that one time last year when he thought Yeonjun might be going out with Kim Jinseok.

Thinking about him so much just increased Yeonjun’s anxiety, and when Beomgyu left to go to the restroom, he pulled out his phone.

Me

hi

Relief crashed over him when he immediately received a reply.

daddy

Good morning

Me

did i wake you up?

daddy

Yeonjun-ah, it’s nearly noon. I think the more important question is why are you just now waking up?

Even receiving a lecture from him right now made him smile, but fingers still hesitated over the keys.

Me

i went drinking with beomgyu last night

daddy

Did you have fun?

Soobin was so sweet; he didn’t sound nearly as concerned as Yeonjun expected him to. It almost made him feel…he couldn’t really put a name to it. But it was almost like some part of him wished he would worry more.

Me

yeah it was nice to not think about anything for a while

Me

but i might have accidentally stopped thinking a little too much

That would get his attention at the very least.

daddy

I’m starting to get concerned. What do you mean?

Anxiety fluttered in his chest, but it was the welcome kind he brought upon himself. It alleviated his other fears, being aware of exactly what scared him and placing himself right in front of it.

Me

i sort of let it slip that we’re together

He waited with bated breath, and then:

daddy

That’s alright.

He stared at his phone for a moment. Alright? In what way could it possibly be alright when Soobin emphasized so heavily that he couldn’t tell anyone? Was he lying to make him feel better? He knew it was something Soobin did often, something that frustrated him even though he also knew it was probably for his own good.

Me

you’re not mad?

daddy

No. I’m glad that you told me instead of pretending like it didn’t happen. To be honest, I don’t really care if your friends know anymore, I’m not likely to meet any of them.

Was it wrong that he wanted Soobin to be mad? It had to make him a bad person. Here his boyfriend was, being kind and lenient with him even when he made mistakes, and Yeonjun had the audacity to be disappointed.

He just wanted Soobin to care. An intensity bloomed in Soobin when he felt strongly about something, and it was magnetic. Yeonjun wanted it. He wanted to be part of it, the cause of it, anything. Anything to remove the stoicism from his face and hear emotion in his voice.

Soobin didn’t know how to be free with himself. Or maybe he had grown out of it. Yeonjun wished he could say the same. Maybe Soobin would love him more if he learned how to restrain himself, and to contain whatever it was that made him so overwhelming to other people. If he was just older, more mature, something that put them on a level field of understanding.

Me

oh ok

Me

hyung can i come over later

If he couldn’t elicit an emotional reaction from him by acting out, then he would do something nice for him instead. Weirdly enough, happiness and sexual interest went hand in hand when it came to Soobin. When Yeonjun made him happy, he wanted him. Badly. It’s why he got so interested in cooking for him. He knew Soobin liked coming home to him doing something. Anything, really, Soobin just wanted to see him there. And when he was happy, he loved him. It was actually really simple. His lust felt nearly as intense as his anger, and so Yeonjun sought it out gladly.

daddy

If you would like. Although I won’t be home for a while, I have a staff meeting until six.

Perfect.

Me

that’s fine i’ll probably be there when u get back

daddy

Okay. See you then

No excitement, no show of interest, but that was okay. He knew Soobin had no talent in texting.

Me

<3 <3 <3

Satisfaction filled him, and when Beomgyu returned, he still wore a smile, one that he got teased for but didn’t mind so much.

Their pancakes arrived, and the sight of a full plate nearly killed his good mood. He had been starving when he woke up, his hangover manifesting in his stomach. He was still starving now, but he knew better. He had a shoot two days from today. A brand endorsement for skincare. He couldn’t show up bloated. If he ate now, he would have to spend four hours at the gym just to work it all off.

But he was so hungry.

Beomgyu knew. He saw him staring at his plate in dismay and probably recognized the look in his eyes. He had seen it enough times.

“Please,” Beomgyu said quietly, barely even looking up from his food.

And Yeonjun felt so guilty. He had made his friends worry about him for years, but he didn’t know how to stop it. During his senior year, it was almost better. Nearly. He had something to distract him, and Taehyun tried so hard.

But Taehyun wasn’t here now, and all of his responsibilities filled a different pit in his stomach that made him feel sick. All he had to give was his body, really. He wasn’t intelligent, or overly gifted, or desirable in any other way. People found him attractive. They liked looking at him, and now it had become his job to let them. He had a responsibility to look the best that he could. It was really all he had to give Soobin, too, who had everything -intelligence, talent, and charisma- and most likely only picked Yeonjun because he found him pretty.

Anyone else could have been in his place.

But Beomgyu looked at him now, silently pleading with his eyes and Yeonjun suddenly understood why he had agreed to come with him even though he had already eaten this morning.

Yeonjun never asked him out to eat.

He felt nauseous, and guilty, and so fucking hungry, and so he just resigned himself to it. He would eat. And he would purge it from his stomach in about twenty minutes when he excused himself to the restroom. Beomgyu would be happy. His body would be momentarily content.

Everything would be fine.

───────✧❁✧───────

As Yeonjun grew older, he developed a manic, chaotic energy fueled by his constant caffeine high and the rich passion of his artistry. His moods came and went like summer storms, bursts of warm rain and flashes of fiery lightning, always on the brink of a mental breakdown or an artistic breakthrough.

It made him difficult to be around sometimes, but exhilarating just the same. Soobin never knew what to expect.

And Yeonjun looked beautiful even as he was being put through the harsh ringer of youth, going through constant phases of change. His hair took on a different color and length every other month. His taste in clothes only grew more trendy and eccentric the longer he worked in the modeling industry. He didn’t have the time or the energy to conform, and in a way, it liberated him.

But sometimes, Soobin worried that it liberated him too much. They barely saw one another these days. If he thought it had been bad when Yeonjun first started modeling, then now his absence felt nearly unbearable.

He went out a lot. Mostly with friends, sometimes with people he met while working, but all without Soobin.

That wasn’t to say he didn’t make an effort. Yeonjun invited him from time to time and Soobin turned him down. It always felt uncomfortable, spending time with him while being around other people. They looked at them strangely, passing judgment on their relationship, and he couldn’t stand all the eyes. That became a problem without a solution, and so the only thing he could do was decline.

He knew it made Yeonjun upset. Yeonjun liked doing things, going to bars, restaurants, museums, concerts, all of it. There was an intention to go out into the world and be seen, a hunger for it, and that was something Soobin didn’t have anymore. Not as often, at least. He still liked going places when it was just the two of them. But if something sounded like an event, Soobin declined immediately.

Yeonjun, for the most part, let it go. He told Soobin when he was going somewhere, where he was going, and for how long he expected to be gone. That was all Soobin asked of him. He just didn’t want to worry.

To be fair, however, he did worry, and sometimes it got the better of him. He had developed a new habit of searching Yeonjun’s name on social media platforms, as people often took pictures of him now when they saw him out and about. Soobin couldn’t decide if it crossed a line or not. He wasn’t the one invading Yeonjun’s privacy, but he certainly benefited from it.

One night, Yeonjun texted saying he was going out with a friend and that he would call in the morning. He sent the location, and it looked like a club in Itaewon. That was fine. He preferred friends to industry acquaintances, even though they all seemed to want to sleep with him, and at least they were out at a place with plenty of other people.

Still, a few hours later, it was nearing midnight, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was happening. He sat on the couch reading, but eventually he had to take out his phone and open Twitter, searching Yeonjun’s name and sorting the results to the most recent. What came up first were a series of pictures tagged with his name, all of which were slightly blurry as though taken in a room with a lot of lights. Still, Soobin could clearly see Yeonjun’s face, wearing too much makeup but obviously still him, and the interior of the club he had sent earlier.

But what struck him wasn’t just the fact that there only seemed to be other men in the place, but that one man in particular stood very close to Yeonjun. The two were talking. The other’s face was similarly blurry but he looked young, with bleach blond hair. It looked like they were laughing, like they knew each other. Yeonjun had said he was going out with a friend, but Soobin had never seen this guy in his life. He figured he was just going out with Beomgyu or something.

This was different. They stood too close. Growing more and more concerned, Soobin quickly scrolled through the searches until he found a video of the same thing. The blond guy was touching him. Yeonjun wore a smile, captured even from a distance. When he glanced back at the caption, he realized all of them said something along the lines of Choi Yeonjun spotted in a gay nightclub.

His anxiety rapidly turned into a blinding mix of fear and anger; did Yeonjun not understand that his actions had consequences? People knew him, often recognized him when he went places, and he was jeopardizing all of his hard work for what? For a night out with this…stranger?

Soobin sighed; he would rescue Yeonjun just this one time. But he needed an explanation once it was done. He stood and found his coat, then slipped on his shoes, fetched his keys from the bowl, and headed out the door.

As expected, the club itself looked packed to the walls, lighting multi-colored and moody, the sounds of drunken laughter and clinking glasses barely audible over the tinny pop music pouring from the speakers.

It took him too long to locate Yeonjun. The crowd itself stood thick and overwhelming; coupled with the noise and the fact that Soobin stood out like a sore thumb, he really just wanted to grab Yeonjun and get out. There were too many people looking at him, men staring as he tried to wade through the sea of people. Too much glitter, too much music, and too many eyes.

He knew Yeonjun was whoring around, and came here with full intention to put an end to it, but it still shocked him, seeing his angel all over somebody else. As if he had been doused in cold water, frigid from his toes to his fingertips, all he could do was stare.

In person, the lucky boy looked like a foreigner with a pretty face, platinum blond hair and an easy 185 cm build, and he had his delicate hands on Yeonjun’s hips, Yeonjun’s back pressed against his chest. They were swaying and grinding the way horny drunk college students do, and Soobin felt sick to his stomach.

Yet he let it play out longer than he wanted to, morbidly fascinated as if watching a gruesome train wreck. Other men watched, too, looking on with intrigue. How could they not? The pair were pretty and young, and far too comfortable with one another. Yeonjun rested his head back on the guy’s shoulder, whispering something in his ear and giggling, and the guy laughed in response, looking like he was having way too much fun. It was the happiness on his face, the absolute obliviousness to the fact that he was holding something that belonged to Soobin, that finally snapped him out of his frozen state.

He had given too much, handing Yeonjun the reins of freedom and just expecting him to be responsible. He should have known better. He did know better, yet Yeonjun somehow convinced him to be lenient.

Still, he waited. He waited until the blond boy excused himself to go who-the-fuck-cares where, and approached Yeonjun himself. Those pretty feline eyes, dusted in smoky makeup, immediately lit up upon spotting him, so very clearly drunk as he rushed over to Soobin and threw his arms around his neck. “Hyung!” he shouted over the music, and Soobin circled his arms tightly around Yeonjun’s waist. More possessive than protecting. He couldn’t help it. It felt like everyone in the world got to see Yeonjun but him these days, and especially now, he knew everyone was staring. He had just interrupted the show, but he really didn’t give a fuck at this point.

“Let’s go,” he said firmly, half-leading, half-dragging Yeonjun towards the door.

“What? Why? Go where?”

Soobin just headed straight out the entrance. “Home.”

Confused, but too drunk to argue, Yeonjun staggered down the street with him. “My home is that way.” He gestured vaguely towards his college campus.

“That’s not your home.” Yeonjun’s home was with him. It should have been from the start. He had been right when he told Yeonjun not to move into the dorms, and Yeonjun should have listened. Always with the listening.

“Mm.” Yeonjun giggled, completely oblivious to how much trouble he had created, and bumped his cheek against Soobin’s shoulder. “What’re you saying? You always…talk like a…superhero villain. You’re so…vague and mysterious. ‘S hot.”

He wished Yeonjun didn’t endear him so much; he wanted to stay angry. He had never seen him drunk before, and now wasn’t a good time to discover that it made him much cuter than usual.

Sighing, he said, “‘Superhero villain’ is an oxymoron.”

Yeonjun frowned, and tried to retort, “You’re an…a…what?”

When they found his car in the parking garage, Soobin unlocked it and opened the passenger door for him. Yeonjun practically tumbled inside, and yanked the door shut, almost closing it on his foot in the process.

God, how had he survived this long on his own?

Soobin did Yeonjun’s seatbelt for him and closed him in properly before going around to the driver’s side. He backed out, and they drove in silence for a while, Yeonjun’s head lolling a little from side to side as he struggled to stay awake.

“Who was the boy?”

“What…?”

“The blond boy. The one you were dancing with.”

Yeonjun clapped his hands. “Oh! That’s Kai. He’s my roommate. He’s kinda funny. ‘N cute.”

The name rang a bell. Soobin recalled Yeonjun mentioning his roommate, Kai, at the very start of his first semester. Actually, he talked about him from time to time now that he thought about it. The boy from America who still had braces and filled his side of the room with stuffed animals. He tried to talk to Yeonjun about Pokemon on the first day, or something like that, and Yeonjun had called him in a panic, wondering how the hell he was supposed to live with someone like him for a year.

And now they were grinding against each other in a gay club in Itaewon, oh how funny.

“Alright. Is that why you were about to let him fuck you in the middle of that club?”

Yeonjun looked shocked, his drunk eyes wide and dazed. “What? Let Kai…? No, I never did that. He’s not…we’re not…” He was having a difficult time forming full sentences. Rationally, Soobin knew this wasn’t the right time to be interrogating him, but he couldn’t help it. He needed answers. Anything to calm his racing heart. “Kai’s like…my bestie…my emotional soulmate, I don’t want his dick…”

Even the thought of it made Yeonjun look dizzy, almost as if it had really never crossed his mind.

“Ew…” Yeonjun added for good measure, and Soobin was beginning to wonder if he had misinterpreted the situation. But how could he have, when all of the signs were blatantly there in front of him? The touching, the dancing, the giggles and whispering…he wasn’t stupid. The way all of those pictures were now circling on social media. He wouldn’t be the only one asking Yeonjun questions. “Plus…” The word practically tripped out of Yeonjun’s mouth, and he took a minute to prop his head up on his hand, looking at Soobin directly. “I like you. So it’d be dumb to hook up with someone else, y’know? Kinda…kinda counter…fuck what’s the word? Teacher-nim, what’s the word?”

Slightly concerned, Soobin guessed, “Counterproductive?”

“No, no, the one where you’re like…thinking it…? Feeling it.”

“Counterintuitive?”

Yeonjun snapped his fingers. “Yeah. That one.” A moment passed. “I forgot what I was talking about.”

“You like me.” He chose the prompt that he liked best.

“Mm. Yeah. I like you. You’re so…big.”

Unimpressed, Soobin glanced at him. “Really?”

Waving his hands, Yeonjun clarified, “Like, in everything. Not just…physical shit. But you’re smart. You know a lot of stuff. It’s hot.” When Soobin remained silent, Yeonjun just couldn’t stop himself from saying more. “You’re so good to me,” he mumbled. “Even though I’m not smart like you, and I’m stubborn, and I’m not always very nice. I…I don’t always believe you when you try to tell me stuff, even though you’re right a lot, and you still…” He frowned. “You still like me. I don’t really get it.”

He sighed. Yeonjun was too drunk to be making desperate declarations of love, especially when they endeared him so much.

Yeonjun shot him a sharp look. “Is it just because I’m hot?” When Soobin took what he deemed too long to answer, he added, “‘Cause I’d get it. I’m like…really sexy. Like, I’d fuck me, y’know?”

Resisting the urge to shut his eyes, Soobin kept them firmly on the road and replied, “It’s not just because you’re hot.”

“M’kay, then what?”

“You’ll forget if I tell you now.”

“That’s fine. Then you can tell me again. Double points for me.” When he glanced at his passenger mirror, he could see Yeonjun frowning again. “I hate math.”

“I know.”

Yeonjun clapped a hand against Soobin’s shoulder and squeezed. “See, that’s why I like you, too. You remember stuff about me. It’s sweet…no one else cares.”

That wasn’t true. Lots of people cared about Yeonjun. His mother, his friends, everyone. And Soobin could tell him that. But at the same time, he liked that Yeonjun thought that he only had him. It made Soobin special. It made him more important. So he didn’t tell him.

“I like you because you’re beautiful,” he admitted. And then the words poured out of him, and he couldn’t stop himself, desperately wanting Yeonjun to know he felt something for him that he’d never felt for anyone else. And that it would tear Soobin apart if he ever moved on and left him behind. “In every aspect of life. You’re compassionate, and empathetic, and good at everything you do. You commit to things with your entire heart, and you make everyone around you feel loved. Even me. Only a fool wouldn’t like you. And if you were sober right now, you’d be laughing at me for saying something so sentimental, but it’s true.”

Yeonjun said nothing. Soobin thought that maybe he had fallen asleep, but when he looked over at his seat, he saw tears in his eyes. Yeonjun was crying, silent tears streaming down his cheeks, and he wrapped his arms around himself.

Soobin had expected him to be in tears tonight, but from anger at him for ruining his night, not whatever this was. At least he was prepared. With another sigh, he carefully reached into the backseat, and pulled Yeonjun’s stuffed animal out, the blue bunny he accidentally left at the apartment the last time he stayed over.

He took it gratefully, hugging the bunny instead, and after a few minutes, he mumbled into its fur. “Hyung, I love you.”

“I know.” And because Yeonjun was drunk, and wouldn’t remember any of this, he murmured softly, “I love you, too.”

The rest of the drive was quiet. When they arrived home, he parked and got out to help Yeonjun, holding his hand out to him and letting him cling to his arm, wobbling slightly as they walked.

As soon as Soobin shut the door behind them, Yeonjun looped his arms around his neck, standing on his toes to kiss him messily. He let him, let Yeonjun practically devour him, a soft, slow heat curling in his stomach at Yeonjun’s touch.

He looked beautiful.

Soobin hadn’t let himself think about it before, intent on his rescue mission, but now it consumed him. Yeonjun looked best in black; it was something Soobin had decided long ago, and he wore it tonight. A tight black buttoned vest with nothing underneath, tucked into those studded high-waisted pants Yeonjun loved so much. Too many necklaces hung from his neck, slinky and delicate, and nearly as many hoops and gems filled his ears. He had bangles on his wrists and thin rings on his fingers.

It was all too much. With Yeonjun, it always was, but Soobin loved the way it overwhelmed him. He smelled like women’s perfume and men’s deodorant, and he tasted like gin and grenadine. He was sex, and sin, and poetry, and Soobin desired him with the intensity of knowing he would never find someone like him again.

Being with Yeonjun felt like holding sand in his hands. Every second, a few more grains trickled away, leaving him with less and less as time passed, and yet he kept clinging tighter, more slipping through his fingers. There was no point in fighting against the inevitable. Yet he continued to try. He wondered if that made him pathetic. Or if it just made him human.

“Hyung,” Yeonjun whispered against his lips. Soobin hummed, a deep, low sound in his throat, and Yeonjun’s fingers curled in his jacket. “Soobin.”

Yeonjun was drunk, but his name sounded so good on his lips, and Soobin kissed him again, slipping his tongue into his mouth as if he could taste it. All he tasted was the alcohol, the last remnants of Yeonjun’s cherry lip balm, and the artificial flavor of expensive gloss. His hands found their way onto Yeonjun’s hips, then under his shirt, untucking it to grip his waist.

He was warm. Too warm, maybe. Intoxicated, dizzy, he most likely had only a vague idea of what they were doing, and for a moment, Soobin wondered if he should stop. But just as he moved to withdraw his hands, Yeonjun gripped his wrists, holding him in place. “I want you. Please.”

He couldn’t stop, then. If Yeonjun wanted him, with all of his vices and shortcomings, then of course he would have him. He himself was the only thing he had to give. Yeonjun didn’t care about anything else. He didn’t care about money, or presents, or anything material.

Even after all this time, he just wanted Soobin. Exactly as he was.

“You have me,” he murmured. Maybe it sounded like a promise, and Yeonjun grabbed him roughly, leading him blindly down the dark hallway to their bedroom.

“You love me, right? You said it." Yeonjun sounded nearly in tears again even as he threw himself at Soobin, straddling him on the bed and frantically kissing his neck. "I’ll give you anything, Soobin, just…please don’t leave me."

He was so vulnerable, fingers unable to undo the buttons of his vest, and his wet cheeks shone in the darkness.

"I’m not going to leave you," he softly reassured him, and started to do the buttons himself. But Yeonjun refused to be soothed, hands already creeping under Soobin’s shirt. His touch felt like a fire being rekindled- it had been so long since the last time. "I’m right here," he said, stroking his hair, and Yeonjun whimpered, fingers digging into the dip of Soobin’s waist.

Nothing broke Yeonjun quite like tenderness. Especially when he knew Soobin should be angry.

Yeonjun clutched the hem of his shirt now, eyes wide and fragile. “I need you.”

The satisfaction that rose in him felt uncalled for, and within it lay a sense of pride. Yeonjun needed him. No silly, stupid boy in a club, or a lavish expensive career was going to change that. He couldn’t be replaced. And in saying so, Yeonjun only succeeded in reassuring him.

So, he pulled his shirt off over his head and slipped the now-open top from Yeonjun’s shoulders. He wanted to kiss all over Yeonjun’s torso and so he did just that, tugging him closer to place his lips on his collarbone, then across his shoulder. He lightly ran his fingers up and down his sides as he did this and felt Yeonjun tremble from the touch, heard his breath hitch when Soobin wrapped his mouth around one of his nipples, teasing it with his tongue until Yeonjun was whining and pulling on his hair.

“You’re taking too long,” Yeonjun breathed before kissing him once, their lips connecting and then breaking apart again as he worked his pants open. Soobin helped him slide them off, then wrapped a hand around his cock. It no longer fazed him, the fact that Yeonjun simply didn’t like wearing underwear.

“What would make you feel good?” Soobin murmured, jerking him off slowly.

“I-inside. Let me…” Yeonjun’s fingers fumbled at Soobin’s belt, and his tipsiness hopelessly endeared him.

Soobin held him still with his other hand gripping his waist and said, “I can do it, baby.”

But Yeonjun shook his head, pressing his lips against Soobin’s to distract him as he worked at his belt with renewed determination. Eventually, he managed to get it open, and undid his zipper, shoving Soobin’s pants down his legs.

“Lube,” Soobin reminded him softly, and Yeonjun looked almost annoyed, but reached for the drawer. He tossed the bottle to Soobin, very clearly telling him to do it. So, Soobin gripped the backs of his thighs and pulled him up onto his lap. It had been a while since they’d done this, and he had almost forgotten how gorgeous Yeonjun looked without anything on. He liked sleeping in Soobin’s shirts, and so when they weren’t having sex, he never really saw him like this.

His skin was even smoother and softer now since the last time they had slept together, his muscles more defined, and his collarbones more pronounced. Maybe a little too hollow, his skin paler than Soobin remembered. Still, “You’re so pretty, baby,” he murmured as he slicked up his fingers, dragging them from Yeonjun’s perineum up to his rim before pressing one finger to his hole.

Yeonjun looped his arms around Soobin, clinging to him and arching his back so he could finger him open. He wasn’t as loud as usual, only the occasional moan or whimper escaping when Soobin’s fingers hit the right place. Mostly, he just decorated Soobin’s throat with wet, open-mouthed kisses, marking him up good enough to have him wearing scarves to work for a week.

“Faster,” Yeonjun gasped when Soobin had three fingers in him, and he complied, thrusting in at a brutal pace that had Yeonjun bouncing in his lap, lube trickling down his thighs. “Ready, I’m ready. S-Soobin, please,” he whined, and once again, Soobin let him get away with saying his name. He liked it more than he thought he would when Yeonjun removed that barrier of formality between them.

“You want it like this?” he asked as he withdrew his fingers from him and instead wrapped his hand around his own cock, getting himself wet enough with the excess lube.

Yeonjun nodded and braced his thighs more evenly around him, but Soobin could see him already trembling. He didn’t expect them to last long in this position. It was kind of cute, actually. Yeonjun liked to ride him, but he got tired quickly, and just whined until Soobin took over.

Still, he gave him the benefit of the doubt, cupping Yeonjun’s face in one hand to look into those pretty eyes, dark with concentration as he lined himself up with Soobin’s cock. Warm and tight as ever, Yeonjun took him slowly, his eyes fluttering shut while he adjusted to his length. A short, pained mewl escaped him when he tried to go too fast, and Soobin pressed his thumb to Yeonjun’s lips, heat pooling in his abdomen as Yeonjun lapped over the digit in an attempt to soothe himself. Slowly but surely, he rocked his hips enough for Soobin to sink halfway into him, and he couldn’t help but thrust up, always wanting too much too quickly.

"Ah, w-wait," Yeonjun said all of a sudden, voice shaking nearly as much as his legs.

"You’re okay," Soobin comforted. He tried to let Yeonjun set the pace.

"N-no, I’m-" Yeonjun couldn’t finish his sentence, eyes closed and breathing rapidly. But Soobin barely heard him, so enamored with the rise and fall of his chest and just how tight he felt. "H-hyung." Yeonjun tried to talk again, but as soon as Soobin started moving inside of him, the word disappeared into a whimper. It was a prettier sound, and Soobin did his best not to feel slightly irritated when Yeonjun suddenly said, "I-I think I’m gonna be sick."

"No, you’re not." He spoke gently, stilling the movement of his hips and brushing Yeonjun’s hair back. Maybe he had tried to push him into going too quickly, and the alcohol was starting to get to him. His forehead glimmered with sweat and cheeks were still flushed pink from everything he had drank. "It’s just your body getting used to me again, it’s been a while."

In the back of his mind, he recognized his words weren’t all that considerate. But he wanted Yeonjun so badly, and if he could make Yeonjun believe everything was fine, he would let him continue.

“I-” Yeonjun couldn’t form his sentence, overwhelmed from all the sensations.

“Would it be better on your back?” Soobin asked softly, and Yeonjun nodded. So, with careful hands he moved them so that Yeonjun could lay down, Soobin on top now. He knew it would end up like this.

“C-can you go slow?”

He would because Yeonjun asked.

Soobin moved slowly, fucking Yeonjun with deep, languid strokes rather than the fast, intense pace he usually preferred. This seemed to put him at ease, though, and it felt good enough for Soobin’s irritation to dissipate. He braced one hand on the pillow by Yeonjun’s head and used the other to keep one his slender legs up, sinking his cock into him over and over until Yeonjun was moaning incoherently, gripping Soobin’s shoulders so tight that he could feel his nails digging into him.

“You feel so good, baby,” Soobin panted, and pulled Yeonjun down hard on his cock so that he could fuck deeper into him. Yeonjun whimpered at the rough treatment, and Soobin leaned down to kiss the sound out of his mouth. The kiss was too messy, just something to occupy his mouth so he could keep the slow pace, but Yeonjun seemed grateful for the distraction. His fingers tangled in Soobin’s hair and he licked over his bottom lip before sucking it between his teeth.

“You can go faster now,” Yeonjun whispered against his mouth. “I want it.”

Those were the words Soobin secretly longed to hear, and he held Yeonjun’s hips with both hands, holding him in place as he started fucking him hard and fast, his hips snapping against Yeonjun’s pretty pert ass. There were certain things he restrained himself from thinking about during daylight hours, especially when Yeonjun was right in front of him. Thoughts about his body, really, and his mouth. How naturally sexy he looked, and how he made it difficult for Soobin to not think about fucking him all the time. Perverse things he wanted to do to Yeonjun, or things he fantasized about Yeonjun doing for him.

Specific fantasies came to mind. Their sex life remained relatively vanilla, and that was alright. It didn’t typically concern him. Yeonjun’s lingering innocence prevented him from thinking about it for too long. But right now, with his cock buried in him and Yeonjun moaning for it like a whore, he couldn’t help himself. Yeonjun wasn’t innocent, not in any sense of the word. Tonight proved as much, seeing as, the moment Soobin wasn’t around, he was all over other guys, grinding, and giggling, and doing god knows what else. If he hadn’t shown up, Yeonjun probably would have slept with his roommate. Maybe he slept with his colleagues, too. Soobin would never know.

But he did know that when Yeonjun was with him, Soobin was the one in control. And that simultaneously eased his worries and turned him on. Yeonjun could only do so much, go so far, without him. He needed Soobin. He had said so himself.

As his thoughts wandered, so too did one of his hands, skating up Yeonjun’s chest to wrap loosely around his throat. Yeonjun’s dazed, fucked-out gaze fell to his hand for only a second before glancing back up at Soobin. He could feel his heartbeat against his palm. And very deliberately, Yeonjun placed his own hand over Soobin’s, telling him that it was okay.

He didn’t squeeze hard; the idea was to make Yeonjun dizzy, not to hurt him. He wanted to replace his dazedness with a heady delirium. In some of the more intense videos he got off to in his spare time, the bottom was always restrained somehow. Tied up, harnessed, or on a leash, just some way to take power from them and place it directly in their partner’s hands.

It was something he wanted to explore with Yeonjun. Maybe not to that degree- he didn’t want to overwhelm him. But it was a sexual fantasy that appealed to him, and he shouldn’t feel ashamed to bring it up with his partner.

For now, he was content with watching Yeonjun’s plump red lips part as he drew in shallow gasps of air. He continued fucking Yeonjun through it, just barely pressing his thumb against his windpipe; he felt the heat in his stomach only grow more intense, and watched as a sudden hazy of sensation clouded Yeonjun’s eyes. Soobin felt Yeonjun tighten around him, and then he came, white liquid spurting out of his cock and onto his stomach.

As soon as Soobin saw him cum untouched, something that had never happened before, he loosened the pressure on Yeonjun’s throat and instead gripped his ass again, thrusts rough and unforgiving as he chased his own climax. He could hear Yeonjun crying out, lightheaded and overstimulated, and the sounds only sent him over the edge. With one last thrust, he buried himself deep inside Yeonjun. And it was only as he felt his cum fill him that he realized he’d forgotten to wear a condom.

Not that it really mattered, he supposed, but Yeonjun would complain in the morning.

He kept Yeonjun caged in with his body, felt the way his arms wrapped around his waist and held him close. They were both sweaty, panting hard, but he knew they wouldn’t make it to the shower tonight. Yeonjun’s eyes were already shut, and he seemed like he would drift off to sleep right there, with Soobin still inside of him.

“I don’t want what happened tonight to ever happen again, okay?” Soobin said quietly after a few minutes, stroking Yeonjun’s damp hair.

Several beats passed before he received a soft reply. “Okay.” And then, “I’m sorry.” He felt Yeonjun’s lips moving against his shoulder, and heard the way his voice trembled.

He sighed. “Get some sleep, baby.”

“You’ll stay here, right?” Stripped of his defenses, Yeonjun sounded so fragile.

“Mhm.”

A soft breath of relief fluttered against his skin. And then, Yeonjun seemed to fall asleep.

As he lay there, setting aside his anger and his frustration, he realized that he had begun thinking of Yeonjun as his partner. When did that start? It’s who he was, the most important person to him, but Soobin didn’t know when that shift occurred. They had been together for over a year now, of course he had to stop deluding himself into believing that he never meant for it to go on this long.

But it changed things nonetheless. He didn’t know what to think.

Morning came, and when he woke up with Yeonjun still asleep beside him, everything felt right again. Soobin took a moment to just hold him tighter against his chest, burying his nose in Yeonjun’s hair. He still smelled like alcohol and sex, but that was okay. He would be restored to his cleaner self once he showered.

When Yeonjun eventually woke up, he didn’t say much. He was uncharacteristically reserved, drawn into himself, and Soobin excused it as tiredness from the evening he’d had. They showered in silence, accompanied only by the sound of water bouncing off the tiles.

While he made breakfast, Yeonjun stood in front of the counter, staring off into the distance, past the wall. Even when they sat down, he barely spoke.

Finally, the silence grew too unbearable to ignore. “Are you alright?” Soobin asked, and Yeonjun just gave him a short nod, not even looking up from his rice.

Still, introspection was never Yeonjun’s strong suit, and he broke eventually. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, I’m not mad at you.”

He couldn’t tell if it was a lie or not.

“You were mad last night.”

Sighing, he said, “I was upset last night because you’re-”

“Don’t call me a slut.” Yeonjun’s voice broke over him, rough and trembling.

Shocked, Soobin set his chopsticks down. “I was going to say ‘indulging in risky behaviors.’ Why on earth would I call you a slut?” Without giving Yeonjun a chance to answer, he asked, “Is that really how you think I see you?”

“You said it last night.”

He stared. “I did not. I wouldn’t say that, Yeonjun.”

“Yes,” Yeonjun insisted, sounding as though he was about to cry. “You did. You were fucking me, and you said I was so pretty, but that you wished I wasn’t a slut.”

Soobin knew those words had never come out of his mouth. He had no recollection of them. Maybe it was something he thought privately, but he wouldn’t have been so stupid as to say it out loud. “Yeonjun, I think you were a little out of it last night. I promise that I didn’t say that to you. I don’t think you’re…anything like that.”

He did. It was awful, and wrong, and he knew he shouldn’t, but Yeonjun very much seemed like the kind of person…He shook his head. He shouldn’t even finish the train of thought.

“Okay?” he prompted, wanting Yeonjun to believe him. “You-”

“I kissed Kai,” Yeonjun burst out, and he had tears in his eyes.

For a moment, it felt like everything in the world came to a pause. Complete silence fell over the room- Yeonjun desperate for him to say something, and Soobin fighting to remain calm.

“Last night?” His voice cut through the dead air between them, quiet and reserved.

Slowly, Yeonjun shook his head. “A few weeks ago.” So, this had been going on for a while, is what he gathered, but before he could say anything, Yeonjun hastily explained, “We were drunk, it was just for fun. It doesn’t mean anything. I just- I had to tell you. I’m sorry. I promise it won’t happen again.”

Did Yeonjun have to tell him because he felt bad for hurting Soobin? Or because he was afraid of what Soobin would do once he found out? Was it a confession born of good intentions or selfish fear? The distinction mattered. It mattered so much.

Still, he only nodded. “I think it’s maybe best that you two stop drinking together, then.”

Yeonjun stared at him with wide confused eyes. Two thin wet tracks cut down his cheeks, tears shining under the kitchen lights. “Aren’t you upset?”

Soobin had a choice before him, and it was nearly impossible to make in a split second. He could allow himself to be visibly angry with Yeonjun, and put his foot down so nothing like this would ever happen again, but in doing so, he risked losing him. Responding with anger only ever made Yeonjun retaliate and lash out at him. His oppositional side couldn’t handle negative reinforcement. But if he met his confession with kindness, then he stood a better chance of keeping him. Yeonjun’s guilt would increase twice as much if Soobin could pretend that he forgave him. Not too easily, otherwise Yeonjun would doubt whether he loved him at all, but enough where he would feel bad for ever making such a mistake in the first place.

A gentle hand had always been the key with him.

“No,” he said softly. “I’m disappointed. But I also understand that college is confusing, and it’s easy to make mistakes. I think you’re smart enough to know what you did is wrong, and I trust you. Something like it won’t happen again, right?”

Yeonjun was quick to shake his head. “No, hyung, it was stupid. I felt bad as soon as I realized what was happening. You’re…you’re the most important thing to me.” His eyes were red now, but he was clearly fighting to stop his tears.

Soobin hated seeing him cry. Over the past few months, it had become a familiar sight. Yeonjun was just so sensitive. “I think you should go back to bed.” He ran a hand through Yeonjun’s hair and placed a kiss on his forehead. “You’re clearly tired and upset. More sleep would do you some good.”

“But-”

“Come on.” Soobin refused to hear it, wrapping an arm around his waist and leading him back to his bedroom.

Yeonjun glanced up at him anxiously. “Will you lay down with me?”

“Later,” he promised. For once he became a good listener, slipping back under the covers and letting Soobin turn the light out.

“I’m really sorry,” he heard Yeonjun whisper, and just shook his head.

“Get some rest.”

He left Yeonjun there, shutting the door behind him. Once he was alone, he realized that he couldn’t let this continue, and had to come up with a more concrete course of action. Obviously, the smartest thing to do was to get a place with Yeonjun, somewhere that suited both of their needs, so he wouldn’t be able to spend so much time away from him, doing things he shouldn’t. The freedom had proved to be too much for him. He needed something more stable.

But Yeonjun might be resistant. As far as Soobin could tell, he enjoyed living on campus. It was closer to his agency, and of course, more convenient for his studies. And he clearly enjoyed living with his roommate as well. A little too much.

Yeonjun was more likely to agree if he thought it was about their relationship. If Soobin just made it sound like he wanted to get a place with him because he loved him, Yeonjun would be happy. They deserved to have their own space together. Soobin’s apartment functioned well enough, but it was entirely his. His decor, his sense of style, his idea of comfort. Yeonjun complained more than once about his dishes, and the throw pillows on the sofa, and the way his dining chairs didn’t have cushions. Maybe if he lured him in with the promise of letting him decorate, he would be more compelled to say yes.

Before getting too far ahead of himself, he sat on the couch and opened his laptop, running a brief search for available apartments a few miles east, closer to Yeonjun’s campus. At first, he was just looking within the range of his own salary, which wasn’t bad by any means, but he had always been budgeting for one person. And then he remembered that Yeonjun had a job. And quite a lucrative one at that.

For a moment, he struggled with the new conflict presented to him. He wanted to provide for Yeonjun, to be responsible for taking care of him as he made his way through school. Yeonjun was younger- Soobin shouldn’t ask a lot of him in terms of money, and he didn’t want to. But he also knew Yeonjun was prideful, and it would hurt his ego if Soobin refused to let him pay any rent. They would have better options available to them if Yeonjun contributed.

As the reality of his situation hit him, even burdened with the stress of last night and the accusations and confessions Yeonjun made this morning, he almost had to smile. A year ago, Yeonjun was nearing graduation, and Soobin was trying to think of ways to cleanly end their relationship without hurting him. He kept getting derailed by how lovely he thought Yeonjun was, continuously pushing back his plans until Yeonjun confessed that he loved him, and Soobin simply gave in. And now he sat here in the living room with Yeonjun tucked into his bed, trying to plan the best way to move in with him.

He was still upset about last night. That shouldn’t be ignored. But it launched him into action, forcing him to see what was most important.

However, as he attempted to browse listings with Yeonjun’s job in mind, he realized he had no idea how much money Yeonjun made. What if they didn’t pay him well at all? Truth be told, he thought Yeonjun was too smart with money not to be making a decent amount, but it still didn’t help Soobin pinpoint his salary. They would have to talk before he could proceed with the idea any more.

The details of it were important, but they could wait. Not for too long, though. Ideally, he could plan it so they would move during the winter holidays. That way, Yeonjun would have no excuse to delay.

In the back of his mind, he wondered if he was being unreasonable. It just felt like he’d given Yeonjun so many chances and his actions last night weren’t something he could brush off and move on from. Wouldn’t they be happier together, anyway? They didn’t spend enough time with one another- they both knew that and wanted to fix it. This was the obvious solution.

Yeonjun would understand. He might even be excited once he warmed up to the idea. Soobin did love him. So much so that he wanted to start something new and beautiful with him. And get him as far away from the confusion and temptation of youth that he could.

Chapter Text

Soobin took Yeonjun out to eat that night. The restaurant was one of his personal favorites, a small family-owned noodle house tucked away in the quieter part of his neighborhood. Few other people filled the restaurant- they came in past the dinner rush, and the warm atmosphere put some of the tension Yeonjun carried in his shoulders at ease.

“I’ve been doing some thinking,” Soobin said softly after their bowls arrived.

He didn’t expect Yeonjun to have such a strong reaction, glancing up at him with a panicked expression on his face. “What? What do you mean?” Frowning, Soobin tried to explain, but Yeonjun immediately rushed to say, “Hyung, I really am sorry about everything that happened. I swear, swear it won’t happen again. Please, I promise. Let me make it up to you.”

All at once, it hit him. Yeonjun thought Soobin brought him here to break up with him.

“Not about that,” he said, trying to sound gentle, and watched relief flood Yeonjun’s features.

“Oh.”

“You know how precious you are to me, right?” Soobin maintained a low tone, not wanting to attract too much attention from the waitstaff, but Yeonjun took it as a sign of tenderness. After a moment of hesitation, he nodded. “Well, I’ve been thinking that I really want us to be able to spend more time together.”

The tentative bit of happiness forming a smile on Yeonjun’s face quickly fell away, replaced with guilty, downcast eyes. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”

“It’s not anyone’s fault,” Soobin reassured him, and held one of Yeonjun’s hands in his own.

But Yeonjun shook his head. “Between my classes, work, and assignments, I know we can’t spend a lot of time with one another. And-”

“What if we got a place together?”

The question stopped Yeonjun dead in the midst of his rambling. For a few seconds, he simply stared, lips still parted as though meaning to speak. “You…want me to move in with you?”

“Sort of. I was thinking we would look for someplace new, though. Somewhere closer to your university so you don’t have to make that awful commute across the city. It just seems appropriate,” he added. “We’ve been going out for over a year now.”

Yeonjun’s cheeks turned a pretty shade of pink at the statement, and Soobin knew it made him happy to hear. He wasn’t always good at acknowledging the romantic nature of their relationship out loud.

“You’re not taking a winter session, right? I was thinking that would be a good time.”

“You want me to move out of the dorms before I end my first year?” Suddenly, Yeonjun seemed less sure. “I think that would put Kai in a pretty awkward place.”

Resisting the urge to tell the truth, in which he honestly couldn’t care less what happened to Yeonjun’s handsy blond roommate, he simply replied, “It’s unfortunate, but I’d rather do it then than during your summer holiday, because I’ll be working. My break period after graduation falls during the weeks you have off coming up. It just makes the most sense.”

“Yeah…” Yeonjun still hesitated. “Isn’t that really fast, though?”

“We’re essentially living together now,” he pointed out. “I don’t think it would be all that different. I thought…well, I thought it would be nice. But if you’re not ready-”

“No, I want to,” Yeonjun quickly assured him. “I’d like that. Sorry, I’m just trying to think through all of the logistics.”

“I don’t want to stress you out.”

“You’re not.”

He got the sense that he might be and wondered if he’d approached the conversation in the wrong way.

There was a lull in their conversation before Yeonjun tentatively asked, “Were you already thinking about it, or…?”

Or did yesterday’s events cause all this?

A mix of both, to be completely honest, but that’s not what Yeonjun wanted to hear.

“I was already thinking about it,” Soobin confirmed. “And I thought maybe it would help take your mind off everything.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Would I get to pick out a new dish set?”

Soobin smiled. What an innocent thing to ask. It was cute. And exactly what he expected. “You can decorate however you’d like.”

“If we were to move in together, I’d want us both to decorate. It’s a space for both of us. It should feel comfortable for you, too.” Then, Yeonjun frowned. “What do you even like?”

“I’m not all that picky, to be honest. And I know next to nothing about interior design, which is why I was offering to leave it up to you.

Yeonjun considered it, and then shrugged. “Fair enough.” A thought seemed to strike him, and he suddenly became skeptical. “You’re letting me pay rent, though, right?”

Letting him. As if Soobin could take away the choice and he would be fine with that. Nothing seemed to intimidate Yeonjun more than having complete autonomy. It worried Soobin a bit, but he also liked that Yeonjun trusted him enough to make decisions for him. He supposed there wasn’t any reason why Yeonjun wouldn’t trust him.

“If you’d like,” he answered fairly. “But I know you’re in school, and that’s already a heavy expense, so-”

“Don’t say that we could ‘work something out,’” Yeonjun interrupted, lips curled in a little smile. “It doesn’t sound right.”

Soobin raised his eyebrows. “Maybe it’s not meant to.”

Yeonjun’s smile lingered for only a second more before faltering, and he said softly, “Hyung, I’m really sorry for saying the things I said this morning. I shouldn’t have accused you of…what I did. I know you wouldn’t say something like that. I think you were right and I was probably just out of it. More than I thought.”

It was the apology he had been looking for, and relief settled over him. “That’s okay. I think I should have been more conscious of what was happening. I didn’t realize you were that drunk since I’ve really never seen you like that before, and I thought you were more…present…than you were. I won’t do that again. I promise. And I’m sorry.”

The guilt took longer to build in him than usual, but when it did, it clung in his chest, dark and sticky, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had done something awful to Yeonjun without even realizing it. There was no exact thing he could pinpoint, no direct accusation, but still, the feeling lingered.

And sure enough, Yeonjun looked oddly emotional from his apology, eyes a bit watery and fixed downcast on the table beneath him. “Thanks,” he murmured.

Soobin gently drew Yeonjun’s hand into his own and asked, “Are you alright?”

Yeonjun glanced up at him, mouth pressed in a thin line and nodded. Then, he forced a small smile. “Yeah. I’m still kinda tired.” He looked past Soobin then and said, “Oh, I think this is our food.”

As soon as he said it, Soobin became aware of their waiter reappearing with bowls in hand, laying out one each in front of them and leaving a plate of dumplings and broth. Yeonjun didn’t even look in his direction, and his expression changed from tiredness to dismay.

“Is something wrong with your order?” he asked once the waiter was out of earshot.

Yeonjun blinked and looked up at him, effectively snapping out of a trance. “What? Oh, no, it’s fine. Sorry.”

“You don’t seem like you’re feeling well.”

Shaking his head, Yeonjun found another fake smile. “No, I’m really alright. Like I said, just tired. Thanks for recommending we go out, though, it’s nice to not cook every once in a while.”

He wondered if he was putting too much pressure on him, and quickly said, “I can cook more if you’d like, I don’t mind-”

“No, no.” Yeonjun’s eyes went wide. “I like cooking. And you already do a ton. I was just saying it’s a nice break, is all.”

“Oh,” is all Soobin said, and the silence that fell between them felt more awkward than usual. He didn’t remember ever feeling this way with Yeonjun, as if a disconnect had formed. He tried to think through his next words carefully, but in the end, realized there was no good way to phrase it. “Have I…done something wrong?”

Yeonjun shook his head again. “No, why do you think that?”

“You seem upset with me. I’m sorry if I sprung everything on you too quickly, it was just on my mind and-”

“I told you, I’m tired,” Yeonjun cut him off, much sharper this time. All of the probing had clearly started to irritate him. “I’m not upset with you. I’m hungover and hungry, and I have a shoot tomorrow that I’m really stressed about. Going out last night was a bad idea. You didn’t do anything, it’s just me.”

Soobin frowned. When had he gotten so bad at gauging Yeonjun’s emotions? None of that showed on his face, and he wasn’t even touching the bowl in front of him. “Why are you worried about tomorrow?”

“My agency wants to apply me for a partner program with a luxury brand, but there has to be a preliminary portfolio shot and submitted first. It’s a big deal, and if I fuck it up, I could lose them a lot of money.”

He understood that it was important, but, “How do you mess up a photoshoot?”

The question only annoyed Yeonjun further. “My job isn’t just standing in front of a camera, you know. There’s a lot of effort and artistry that goes into it. You’re given direction and you can only rely on your face and body to deliver the story and atmosphere. You’re trying to sell clothes, yes, but you’re also trying to sell the essence of the brand. It’s harder than it looks. And this brand has a very particular taste in models, which I’m pretty sure I don’t qualify for.” He made a face as he said it, and pushed his food further away from him.

Soobin knew that Yeonjun was stressed, and so he didn’t take his sharp tone personally, instead asking, “What do you mean by that?”

Yeonjun pursed his lips, and Soobin watched as his annoyance turned into outright frustration, and it hit him that he was struggling internally far more than he let on. “They like skinny models with sharp jaws and narrow shoulders. They like their models to have double-eyelids and big round eyes. There’s so much that they advertise that I’m not, and I don’t know why my management wanted me for this, but I know they’re just going to be disappointed. I’m not going to get picked, and all of their hard work will be wasted. And I just feel…awful about it.” He seemed ashamed of his outburst and refused to look Soobin in the eyes.

“Yeonjun…” All he wished was for Yeonjun to see himself the way Soobin did. “You’re beautiful. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen in my life. And they obviously picked you for a reason. You work hard, and it shows. I know it feels like a lot of pressure right now, but you’re going to show up tomorrow and deliver exactly what you need to. And when it’s done, you’ll feel so relieved. I have absolute confidence in you, and I know your agency does as well. You don’t have to do anything differently, or be anyone you’re not.”

His anxiousness perplexed Soobin. Yeonjun was striking and utterly gorgeous. And his concern about being skinny made absolutely no sense, considering he was thinner now than he had been in the entire time since Soobin had known him. He exuded confidence and luxuriousness. There wasn’t a brand on earth that wouldn’t want him to wear their products.

But Yeonjun barely seemed to be listening; he just gave Soobin a little shrug and said, “Thanks, hyung. I appreciate it.” Then he frowned, adding, “Your noodles are going to get cold.”

“If that’s some euphemism I don’t know-”

“It’s not,” Yeonjun assured him with a light laugh, still a bit forced but like he was making a genuine effort to feel better. “Sorry for bringing down the mood.”

“You didn’t bring down anything.” He collected a mouthful of noodles and chewed; they tasted exactly like he remembered, and he made a mental note to come back more often. “Try mine,” he offered, already gathering another bite for Yeonjun.

“I’m okay-” Yeonjun tried protesting, but Soobin gave him a look.

“Please?”

Yeonjun sighed, but relented, and let Soobin feed him. It was when he saw Yeonjun’s cute cheeks puff out that he realized he hadn’t actually seen Yeonjun eat anything in days. The sight had become rare, and at most, he only ever ate small portions of fruits or vegetables in front of him. He used to tease Yeonjun for eating everything he owned, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the last time he saw Yeonjun eat a full meal was before he graduated. He always pushed his food away five minutes in, saying he would save the rest for later. But Soobin ended up eating his leftovers since Yeonjun never showed any interest in them.

In passing, he knew he had noticed it. Had commented once or twice in his head, and wondered why he always seemed full. But he had never given it that much thought. The pieces never had a chance to fall in place.

They like skinny models with sharp jaws and narrow shoulders. A normal enough complaint until he thought about it a little more. Yeonjun was skinny. He was extremely skinny, enough for Soobin to see each of his ribs when he was shirtless in front of him. He had just last night.

“Have another bite,” he encouraged, even more gentle than before, and Yeonjun gave him another pitiful glare before accepting the mouthful of noodles Soobin lifted to his lips.

“Are you doing this on purpose?” Yeonjun asked as soon as he finished chewing.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I literally just got done telling you that I’m terrified of being too bloated for my upcoming shoot and you’re feeding me more.”

At any other time, it would have sounded funny. Soobin would have thought he was joking. But now, as he began to understand what was really happening, he realized Yeonjun was genuinely upset.

“No,” he said. “I’m sharing my food with you because I think it’s better than what you ordered.”

Yeonjun clearly didn’t believe him, and just muttered, “Whatever.”

“You haven’t eaten anything since last night. You didn’t even touch breakfast this morning.”

“I still feel sick from drinking too much. It’s not personal.” Soobin sighed, and Yeonjun glanced up sharply. “What?”

“Nothing.” Maybe it wasn’t the right time to start pushing the subject. They could talk about it another time, when Yeonjun was less sensitive.

They ate in silence for several minutes. Yeonjun sulked mostly, withdrawn in whatever sphere of emotions he had created for himself, and Soobin did his best to not take it personally as Yeonjun said. He hadn’t picked a good time to try to have serious conversations with him. He would have to be more mindful of Yeonjun’s attitude in the future- his moods didn’t shift with encouragement like they used to. Before, Soobin could direct him towards a certain topic or thought, and he would grasp onto it eagerly, letting it guide the atmosphere of their conversation. He no longer allowed his attention to be redirected so easily. His own thoughts were too occupying, too prominent and pressing. He supposed it was a change that came with age.

It turned out to be alright, though. They spent a few days apart after that, engaged in their own careers and lives. Yeonjun went to his photoshoot alone, saying his agency weren’t allowing people in to observe, even with his permission. That was okay. He found the atmosphere stifling, anyway. He had no idea how Yeonjun managed to endure all the noise and chaos, so many people yelling directions at him, rushing up to touch him, readjusting this and that until he was certifiably perfect. Soobin got overwhelmed just watching, he couldn’t imagine how it must feel to be at the center of it all. And Yeonjun never really talked about his job unless Soobin asked specific questions, so he had no way of knowing. The last time Soobin asked, Yeonjun just shrugged and said, “I don’t mind it.” He left it alone after that.

Soobin kept himself busy with his hobbies. Classes were winding down slowly but surely, and he was looking forward to his brief post-graduation vacation. His interest in photography had been rekindled with Yeonjun’s own developing passion for it, so he spent some time with his camera, wandering down streets he liked and capturing the city in the winter sunshine. There was a particular market district not too far from his current apartment that housed a shop where hot cider was sold all throughout the season. He used to enjoy going there on snowy days and reading by the window. But he hadn’t gone last year because he was so preoccupied with Yeonjun.

He decided to go today, catching a bus down a few blocks south that he didn’t feel like walking due to the cold. It was a bright sunny day, frost dusting windows and parking meters. A thin layer of snow piled up on either side of the sidewalk, the rest trampled clean by too many boots walking past.

The scents of fish buns and hot pork bone soup marked the season and fought back the cold. He wished he had taken better advantage of the winter early on- it was his favorite time of year and would be coming to an end within a few weeks.

He strolled through the outdoor market first, trying to pass by all the food stalls so he wouldn’t be tempted. Although he might pick something up on the way back.

It was still busy even with the chill in the air, but as always, people seemed to instinctively part for him. When he was younger, it used to make him feel lonely. He wouldn’t ever be part of the crowd, even though at times he had wanted to fade into it and disappear completely. Somehow, without even trying, he stood out too much to simply be ‘another person.’ Back when he was a teenager, it left him feeling awkward and self-conscious because he wasn’t actually exceptional in any way. But people looked at him and thought he must be. He was tall, and handsome, and wore a cold expression that he didn’t really mean.

As he got older, however, it became such a familiar reaction that he barely noticed anymore. He knew he wasn’t the standoffish, important person passerby always assumed him to be. He was just a guy, and that was fine with him. At least, it was more fine now than it used to be. For a while, he wished he was important. Maybe so he wouldn’t feel like such a disappointment. Whenever people got to know him, they said he wasn’t like they expected at all. It used to feel like an insult, as if he somehow was failing to live up to their expectations. He tried to think about it more positively these days- maybe he was just kinder than they thought. More warm and welcoming than he looked.

That felt better. It kept his mind from overthinking too much, at the very least.

Another five minutes down the street found him in the more commercial part of the market, and the cider shop’s windows twinkled a welcoming yellow, steamed up and inviting. He snapped a quick picture before returning his camera to his bag.

A bookstore he didn’t remember from previous years sat warm and brightly lit next to the cider shop, and Soobin decided to stop in to find something to bring with him. A hot drink always tasted better with a book.

A little bell rang cheerfully above the door, announcing his arrival to the sales clerk at the counter. The man looked to be in his thirties, tall and lean, and he gave Soobin a warm smile as he said, “Welcome in.”

His features were handsome, clean and masculine, and it took Soobin a moment to respond.

“Thanks,” he replied after an awkward beat, doing his best to return his smile even as he ducked his head. He didn’t like making conversation with strangers, even when he knew it was just part of their job.

Browsing came easily to him. He used to wander through bookshelves back when he was a college student with no particular purpose other than being alone with his thoughts. Sometimes certain titles would trigger a question or an idea that he hadn’t thought of before, and he would pick the book out without any additional knowledge of its contents and write a paper on it. It was an odd quirk that served him well in school. His theses were never repetitive, and it allowed him to explore research and philosophies that he never would have opted to study on his own.

He applied the same tactic now, wanting to get a good grasp on his own thoughts. The scent of crisp pages and fresh ink lulled him into a familiar blanket sensation of safety. His problems became less intense, less personal and immediately pressing.

Maybe he had been acting so irrationally lately because he never took any time to think. Not like this. There was always the impending possibility of a distraction in the form of Yeonjun. And while he liked Yeonjun and welcomed his presence, there was a particular sanctity in being alone.

But that didn’t mean he doubted his desire to move in with him. He wanted Yeonjun around, and he wanted them to share space. It would be strange and unfamiliar at first, but that could be said of any new experience. Besides, it wasn’t like Yeonjun would be home all the time. More often than not, Soobin was sure he would still have the apartment to himself. Yeonjun existed almost entirely outside wherever he slept, bouncing between school and work, meeting with friends, running errands as soon as they came to mind, and satisfying his own desire to explore.

They were different. It wasn’t a bad thing.

Things would be fine. Actually, he thought they might be really good. Living with Yeonjun appealed to him. And he knew it was a hasty decision, the sort of which he always criticized Yeonjun for, but it felt right. It might make him a hypocrite, but he could live with that.

As he made his way through the fiction section, a title caught his eye. wish upon a white lily. The cover was a matte melancholy teal, words all in thin understated font. There was no sleek jacket or inner page to hold a summary of the novel, instead giving the dedication on the first page.

for my last love, who taught me that it’s better to throw away cut flowers before withering so that your final memory of them is beautiful.

Soobin held the book open between his hands, letting that simple, bittersweet declaration wash over him. It almost felt like something he would say, as if encouraging a loved one to abandon a relationship that was slowly killing them. He rubbed his thumb back and forth along the cover, the matte texture cool and hypnotic. He turned the page again. No table of contents. No introduction. The words were small, written entirely in pensive prose. It captivated him.

“Are you finding everything alright?” The same clerk from earlier spoke softly to his left, drawing his attention. His voice was pleasant, carrying the natural quietness of someone who saw more books than people.

Soobin glanced at him, and gently closed the book he had been holding. “Yes, just escaping the cold for a moment.”

A pair of deep brown eyes were looking back at him, wide and intelligent, framed in thin silver glasses. He smiled. “Ah, I see. Please feel free to ask if you need any assistance.”

Soobin nodded. “Um, I will. Thank you.”

“That’s a good read,” the clerk said, gesturing lightly to the book in his hands. “Short and bittersweet. I’m not really one for romances but I think the narration is quite captivating.”

“Is it a romance?” he asked, turning the book over as if its description would magically appear on the back. “I didn’t look long enough to get a sense for it. It just caught my eye.”

“A bit,” he said. “But it’s more than that as well. I would say it’s about the main character coming to terms with her own flaws and reflecting on her past. She’s unhappy with her current life and takes time in the book to examine how she ended up in such a state, all while pursuing a whirlwind romance with a young aspiring actor. It tackles some heavy themes. You get the feeling from the start that the situation is a bit desolate, but you also want to keep reading.”

The store clerk sounded like he knew what he was talking about, and that he had a genuine passion for books. His summary made Soobin more intrigued than he would have been otherwise.

“Is it the sort of book one could finish in an afternoon?”

The clerk nodded, but Soobin noticed that all of his movements were calm and relaxed even though he’d sounded quite interested when describing the novel to him. “Oh yes, it’s not very long. I think certain books are meant to be read all in one sitting.”

Soobin smiled. “That works perfectly, then. I think I’ve found what I’m looking for.”

The man returned his smile. “Glad I could help. Do you want to browse more or are you ready to check out?”

He spared the rest of the shop another glance, then resolved to come back again some other time. “I think I’m ready.” Nodding again, the clerk headed for the front of the store, and Soobin met him on the other side of the counter. He really was handsome- Soobin couldn’t help but think it as he watched him manually input the novel’s serial code into his computer. He sort of looked like the kind of guy Soobin would have gone to university with, reminding him of his own friends from ten years ago.

“Is this your first time here?” he asked as he typed.

“Yes, I’m pretty sure. Although I used to come this way quite a lot, I don’t know why I haven’t been in before.”

“We relocated to this store about a year ago,” the clerk informed him. “We used to be in more of a residential neighborhood.”

“Oh, so you’ve been working here for a long time.”

The man’s eyes crinkled when he smiled. “Since we opened. I own the shop.”

“Oh.” Soobin found his reply oddly charismatic and chuckled. “I see.” Then, as he became curious he asked, “What made you want to open a bookshop?”

The man blinked, obviously not expecting a genuine question. He pursed his lips as he thought about it for a moment, held tilted. “Several factors, I suppose. Clearly, I enjoy reading. I think there’s a particular charming atmosphere about a bookstore that you can’t find anywhere else. And I’m a writer, so I think being around books helps inspire me to write my own stories.”

Soobin couldn’t agree more about the atmosphere. This shop had a unique character, a quiet escape from the bustling cold outside with its soft amber lighting and mismatched carpets. It wasn’t too large, but the shelves were tall, and they weren’t overtly neat in their organization. It felt like you could wander in here for ages.

“You’re a writer? What sort of books do you write?”

The man smiled again, lightly tapping the cover of the book he had just bought. Soobin looked closer at the author’s name, printed in unassuming script. Nam Junhyun. Then, he glanced at the owner’s name tag. Nam Junhyun. It was the most modest under-handed tactic Soobin had ever seen, and he couldn’t help but be impressed.

“You just convinced me to buy your own book,” he stated, more amused than anything.

“In my defense, you had already picked it up,” he replied softly. “And in my opinion, it really is a good story.”

“That’s extremely clever,” Soobin acknowledged. “I suppose I’ll just have to read it and see if I agree.”

“Of course,” Nam Junhyun agreed. “If you come back, I guess I’ll know whether it was worth your time. Whoever you are,” he added.

“Oh.” Soobin clasped his hands, giving a short bow. “I’m Choi Soobin. I’m a literature teacher.” He felt like he had to give himself an ounce of credibility.

“Nam Junhyun,” the shop owner introduced himself politely even though Soobin had already put two and two together. He wore a gentle smile as he said, “And I’ll be waiting for your review, then, Choi Soobin the literature teacher,” and handed Soobin his bag.

He wasn’t sure why the words stirred a feeling of anticipation in his chest, or why he fumbled with the bag’s handles for a moment. It was a strange sensation -one he didn’t fully understand- so once he had the bag in his hand he said a quick thank you and waved on his way out the door.

After that surprisingly eventful detour, he tried to focus on his original mission. The cider shop was just as he remembered, and once he had a hot cup in hand, he found a seat by the window and lost himself in his book completely. It was just like Junhyun said. Melancholy and bittersweet. The romance painted itself as destined to fail from the beginning, a desperate attempt on the protagonist’s part to re-experience her youth and make something of herself. He felt connected to her in a way, understood her battle with depression and her fear of facing her own shortcomings. How she would rather hide than confront her past. And how, in the end, none of it really mattered. Her lover left her. She developed a sickness, and lost the chance to change her life. And the story just ended like that. It resonated with him entirely too much, and when he finally closed the book, a heavy stone in his heart, he realized the street outside had grown dark. Hours had passed.

He stretched his arms, glancing around the shop. Customers still sat at the other tables, speaking in low hums to one another. They weren’t closing quite yet. When he pulled his phone out of his pocket to check the time, he noticed he had a few missed texts, and even a phone call.

Choi Yeonjun

hyung! hyung hyung hyung hyung /delivered 4:15pm

Choi Yeonjun

hello im sorry that was annoying /delivered 4:25pm

Choi Yeonjun

are you home? is everything ok /delivered 5:26pm

Choi Yeonjun

is it ok if i stop by? /delivered 6:17pm

[missed call from Choi Yeonjun 7:33pm]

Choi Yeonjun

hey can you call me when you get a chance? i want to talk about something, sorry if i annoyed you earlier. i went to the apartment but you weren’t there :(

Soobin felt guilty for leaving his phone on silent and making him worry. His messages sounded urgent, to the point where he’d even stopped by the apartment, but the last sentence made Soobin slightly less anxious about him being upset. Yeonjun didn’t usually use emoticons when he was angry. So, he pressed the call icon next to his name.

Yeonjun picked up on the second ring. “Hey.”

Nothing soothed him quite like the sound of Yeonjun’s voice.

“Hey. I’m sorry, I went out for the afternoon, and forgot to take my phone off silent.”

“No, that’s totally fine. I didn’t say I was stopping by. Where did you go?”

“Down to the shopping district. I walked around the market for a little bit and then found a book and holed up at a cider shop I like.”

“Aw, that sounds like a great day.” Yeonjun didn’t sound upset.

“It was nice,” he agreed. “How was your day?”

“Long,” Yeonjun lamented with a sigh. “I had to go into the agency at like seven this morning and then I had classes right after.”

“I’m sorry, baby,” he sympathized. “Why did you have to go in so early?”

Yeonjun sounded significantly more excited when he said, “My management team heard back from that brand’s partnership team. The one I did the shoot for on Monday.”

“Oh, really? That’s fast. What did they say?”

He was already expecting the answer, but still smiled when Yeonjun burst out, “They want to sign me! They said they were really impressed with my portfolio, and they want to start with the campaign right away.”

“Congrats!” It was a weight off Soobin’s own chest, too, knowing how much this meant to Yeonjun, and how stressed he had been about it before. “So, what does that entail, exactly? Tell me in layman terms.”

“Well, there’s like boring legal red tape stuff. Like I can’t advertise stuff from competitors, and I have to adhere to their brand’s ideals and whatever. That’s for my team to handle, not me. But the fun part is that I do regular photoshoots for them and endorsements. They send me stuff, I model it, someone photographs it, and I get paid. It's pretty sick. And this brand is cool because they do a lot of campaigns that I’m personally interested in. They work with designers I really like, and one of their big things is genderfluid fashion, which I’ve been wanting to experiment with more. Plus they’re one of the few major luxury brands that are actually advocates for the LGBTQ+ community. Not as much in Korea, but still. I think it’s a cool opportunity all in all.”

“That’s really amazing,” he agreed, although he hoped Yeonjun wasn’t being too optimistic. The world just wasn’t as open and accepting as he believed it to be. “You didn’t tell me any of this stuff when you first mentioned it.”

“I didn’t want to get my hopes up,” he admitted. “Or sound like I was really invested in it.”

“Why not?”

“Because then what if it didn’t happen? I’d be so disappointed.”

“It did happen, though,” he pointed out. “Because you’re incredibly talented.”

“Don’t compliment me like that,” Yeonjun mumbled shyly. “Just out of nowhere, it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird. And it’s certainly not out of nowhere. You’ve earned it.”

“Hyung, stop,” he continued to whine, and it made Soobin miss him suddenly.

“Fine, fine. Are you already back at the dorms?”

“Yeah, I’m in bed right now. I’m going to finish this assignment and get some sleep. Oh, wait!” Yeonjun sounded like he’d remembered something important. “I’ve been looking at places in the area, kinda out of the scope of student housing since I’m assuming you don’t want to live on the same block as a bunch of uni kids.”

“That would be a good assumption, yes.”

“Right, so I’ve been looking at the more residential area and there are some really nice apartments east of campus. Still on the same side as the academy so you’re not going too far.”

“They’re outside of Gangnam though, right?”

“Yeah, of course, we’re not rich.”

That was extremely funny to hear coming from Yeonjun who actually was very wealthy, and somehow never seemed to remember it. Or maybe he chose to forget, as if putting distance between himself and his family in physical kilometers would never be quite enough.

“And you like the apartments themselves?”

“Yeah, I think they’re nice. Spacious and clean. Not that we really need a ton of space, but I kind of want to set up a sewing room somewhere.”

“If we get a two-bedroom, you can convert the spare,” Soobin suggested.

“That’s what I was thinking. I don’t think it would be outside of our price range, especially with the sponsorship I just landed.”

“Text me the listing and I’ll look into it.”

“Cool, I’ll do that now.” Then, Yeonjun yawned, clearly tired from his busy day.

“Get some rest, baby,” he said softly. “I’ll call you in the morning.”

“Mkay,” Yeonjun agreed in a sleepy murmur. “Essay first, then sleep. Will you proofread for me if I email it to you, sir?”

Soobin rolled his eyes, but felt an endeared smile tug at his lips. “Yes, Yeonjun-ssi. I’ll proofread your essay.”

“You’re hot.”

“I’m glad you think so. Now hurry up and finish writing so that you can go to bed.”

“Yes, sir. Night.”

“Goodnight.”

When the call screen disappeared from his phone, he realized it was already past nine. Poor Yeonjun. He was trying to juggle too much at once. His job just wasn’t conducive to the student lifestyle. Certainly, he seemed to make it work for now, but Soobin could tell the demands of both were beginning to take a toll on him.

And yet he was searching for apartments in his spare time. Maybe that meant he really did want to move in with him. Soobin had been afraid that he sprung it on Yeonjun too quickly, and his response had been half-hearted, just agreeable enough to sound like a confirmation, but perhaps ingenuine. That’s not what it sounded like on the phone, though. Yeonjun seemed interested, and much more cheerful than the last time they spoke.

Had his photoshoot really been stressing him out that much? Or was there another factor entirely that Soobin didn’t know about?

He supposed it was fine either way. And when Yeonjun texted him the listing, he noticed it was an apartment he himself had been looking at before. The floorplan really was nice, with an open kitchen, dining room, and living room setup, and a master bedroom across the hall from a smaller spare room and bath. It had an attached balcony and good storage space. The master closet even seemed large enough to meet Yeonjun’s standards, if just barely.

He would put in an application in the morning with Yeonjun’s permission. Other than that, there really wasn’t much else to do. The shop would be closing soon, so he put away his things and headed for the door, deciding to take the bus back now that it had gotten dark.

At first, Soobin didn’t see any traces of Yeonjun’s visit when he let himself into his apartment, but upon entering the kitchen, he noticed a covered plate sitting on the counter. On top of it rested a small lavender sticky note.

I’m not sure if you’ve called me by now or if I called you, but just in case you haven’t, hi, I stopped by earlier. Also, I picked up chicken on the way here. If you’ve eaten already, you can just save it for tomorrow or something. Please call me though if you didn’t, I have news! Have a good night! -Yeonjun

Soobin felt guilt settle in his chest again as he set the note down, even though it wasn’t really his fault. Yeonjun had wanted to celebrate his partnership deal with him over dinner, the timing was just off. He didn’t know Yeonjun would be finding out about the results today. They had barely talked since last week.

He was allowed to live his own life, both of them were, but he still felt bad for not being there when Yeonjun needed him. Yeonjun had even taken time out of his exhausting long day to trek all the way over here to see him. Soobin should be better than that.

So, when Yeonjun emailed him his completed essay two hours later with the subject line an indistinct blur of words conjured up from his sleep-deprived mind, Soobin took his laptop to bed with him and found his reading glasses, treating it like he would one of his own papers from university.

He read through all twenty-five pages, suggested edits, checked Yeonjun’s sources, and proposed slight changes to his word choice and grammar in particular spots. Yeonjun was a good writer- Soobin remembered thinking that on his very first day teaching at the academy. And while the topic was completely beyond Soobin’s scope of interest -the revival of pop-art through the modern street fashion movement of 1990s Japan- he made it intriguing enough to hold Soobin’s attention, and he actually learned quite a lot. He could tell Yeonjun was exhausted by the end of it, though. As a teacher who read mostly informative essays for a living, he knew the tell-tale signs of a student just wanting to finish an essay and be done with it: overly conclusive sentences, under-explaining of evidence, and a general lack of nuance that existed in earlier paragraphs. He corrected these minor details with a small smile on his face, thinking about poor sleepy Yeonjun with his cheeks puffy and eyes tired, trying desperately to just wrap up his writing and send it off to him.

It was an extremely cute thought, and kept Soobin going well past midnight. He wondered how often Yeonjun stayed up late for his own class a year ago, and how many of his essays were written somewhere on the line of consciousness.

Things were simpler back then, which wasn’t something he ever thought he would say about that year. After all, there was nothing simple about falling in love with a student, especially one like Yeonjun who was bright and whimsical, and entirely too much trouble. But in comparison to now, where everything in their relationship felt so complicated all the time, things really were more cut and dry. Soobin had his role, and Yeonjun had his, and although they weren’t supposed to intersect the way they did, there was still an expected order of events to follow.

They had long moved past the point where Soobin was just a mildly corrupt teacher, and Yeonjun was just his attractive, bold student. They no longer fit into those roles. In coming together, they had changed as people. There was no longer any box to fit them in, other than two people in a relationship. It was strange to say. But Yeonjun had grown into his own person, and the only claim Soobin had on him was that of a romantic partner. And in all honesty, it felt better that way.

The burden of having to be a role model, to be smarter and better than the person he believed himself to be, weighed heavily on his shoulders. Of course, that burden hadn’t disappeared completely, but as Yeonjun got older, and the distance between their time spent in a classroom together became greater, it did lessen significantly.

Yeonjun never expected him to be perfect. But Soobin wanted to always show him the best side of himself, even when it wasn’t always genuine. He was guilty of lying for Yeonjun’s sake more than once, but maybe those lies were more for his own peace of mind than anything else, an attempt to assure himself that he was the kind of person Yeonjun could look up to and learn from.

Sometimes, he wasn’t that person, and Yeonjun knew that. He hadn’t been that person last weekend when he let the more selfish -and more honest- part of himself get the better of him. He had been jealous and insecure, and more than likely, Yeonjun knew that, too. Yet he didn’t hold it against him. He didn’t present Soobin with the standard of himself that he had always pretended to uphold, and ask why he wasn’t like that on that night.

Yeonjun had the right to, if he really wanted. Soobin was older. He shouldn’t let ridiculous things get the best of him. But the truth was, he could feel jealous and insecure, and it had nothing to do with his age, and everything to do with who he was as a person. Never had he been with another person who he wanted to covet so closely, and while a part of him recognized that his behavior wasn’t healthy, another part of him wondered if Yeonjun would still like him at all if he acted any differently. Yeonjun said he liked him because he was soft-spoken and sweet, and because he made Yeonjun happy. But certainly, there had to be more to it. And the only things he offered Yeonjun that no one his age could was security and someone to look up to. A part of Yeonjun still recognized him as an authority figure. That couldn’t be healthy, either.

These thoughts continued to circle in Soobin’s head as he made final suggestions to Yeonjun’s paper, and when he had finished, he still didn’t have a conclusive solution. Maybe they didn’t need one. Things were going okay. Not perfect, but nothing in life ever stayed perfect. Relationships weren’t meant to be perfect. They would work everything out with time.

Eyes blurry and tired, with the backs of his lids printed in all the words of Yeonjun’s essay, he sent the edited copy back to him and shut his laptop. Both it and his glasses were placed on the table, and he turned out the light.

His bed still felt empty without Yeonjun. No matter how much Soobin liked being alone, he wished Yeonjun was here now to lay with him. He found himself wishing that every night Yeonjun spent in the dorms. His breathing comforted Soobin, and he liked being able to hold him close. Not for any particular reason. Just because he loved him.

───────✧❁✧───────

The application he put in for the apartment got approved within the week, although there was an inquiry from the landlord, curious about why the other tenant listed was a nineteen-year-old kid. Soobin didn’t like pretending that they were family -it made things weird in his head- so he just said that Yeonjun was the son of a family friend who he was helping through university. Not that it was really any of the landlord’s business, but Soobin supposed he had to make sure nothing illegal -or god forbid, homosexual- was happening in his building.

Yeonjun was on board. He was already spending a significant amount of time on Pinterest between classes, sending Soobin all kinds of design boards, and asking about color stories. They weren’t allowed to paint, of course, but Yeonjun was very serious about color-coordinating the decor.

Their move in date was set right for the start of Yeonjun’s break, so slowly but surely, Soobin started packing up his apartment. He felt bad for taking down all the photographs Yeonjun had so painstakingly hung up for him on his birthday, but Yeonjun didn’t seem to mind, just remarking cheerfully that they could do it again together in the new place.

Soobin felt excited, but he did experience the occasional bout of panic and uncertainty. He hadn’t moved apartments in over four years. And while he had lived with roommates during college, it had been a long time since he lived with another person permanently.

Surprisingly enough, Yeonjun was understanding. He suggested Soobin take pictures of his current place so he could look at them when he felt nostalgic, and so he did just that. Yeonjun seemed to know that change overwhelmed him. He was kind about the whole ordeal, although they didn’t see each other as much as he would have liked.

Both of them still had work, Yeonjun had classes, and Soobin had to prepare for this year’s graduation. As their move-in date approached, Yeonjun continued to complain that he had no time to pack, and that carrying boxes in and out of his dorm was a pain in the ass because they lived at the very back of their hall.

“Where’s your dorm? I’ll pack some things for you while you’re working on Sunday,” Soobin said as they sat together at the dining table, him grading a stack of essays and Yeonjun typing away at his homework.

He glanced up, the page of whatever he’d been writing reflected in his glasses lenses. “Hyung, you don’t have to do that. I’ll find the time, I’ve just been kinda swamped lately.”

“I really don’t mind,” he assured him, setting his pen aside.

“That’s…really nice of you,” Yeonjun said. Then, he nodded. “Yeah, okay. It’s building C, on the east side. First floor. I can give you my key, and I’ll let Kai know that you might come by. I have some boxes, too, in my closet from when I first moved in that you can use.”

“Great.”

When Sunday came, it seemed bright, sunny, and promising. The snow had begun to melt, persuaded by the persistent winter sunshine. He dropped Yeonjun off at his agency before driving over to the campus, thinking wistfully about how much shorter the drive would be once they moved after he spent over forty minutes in traffic. He felt sympathy for Yeonjun who made the commute several times a week, most likely taking even longer since he rode the subway more often than not.

He had been to Yeonjun’s university campus before, but only to park alongside the curb and wait for him after classes. It was small and concentrated, dozens of tall buildings all clustered together, taking up a city block in Gangnam. Murals decorated the walls, painted by students over the years, and music could always be heard from all sides of campus.

It was the kind of university parents like Yeonjun’s prayed their kids would never apply for. Soobin wondered how Yeonjun’s mother had reacted when he told her where he was going.

Yeonjun didn’t even talk about her these days. There was a parking lot right outside building C, and he could see students streaming in and out the doors, talking loudly and carrying heavy-looking bags. Their expressions were more serious than those of high school students, but they still had things to laugh about.

Soobin felt out of place, but did his best to appear like he was there with a purpose, and only received a few curious looks as he headed down the hall to room number 23.

The door that marked Yeonjun’s dorm room was unassuming, just like all the others, white and bare aside from their numbers. It gave him a distinct sense of deja vu; his own university dorm looked much the same.

He knocked three times, rapping his knuckles lightly against the door. There was always the slightest chance that Yeonjun’s roommate decided to stick around for the day.

A few seconds passed, and he had just dug Yeonjun’s spare key out of his pocket, deducing no one was home and he was indeed lucky for once, when he saw the handle turn and the door swung open.

However, standing at the door wasn’t Yeonjun, but someone who couldn’t be more different. The person was a young boy, a first year student, sure, but that’s where the similarities ended.

This boy had bleach blond hair, a broader build, and pointed, exotic facial features.

And all at once, he looked very familiar.

“Um, hi…?”

Yeonjun’s roommate looked confused, staring at Soobin as though he couldn’t fathom why this grown man was knocking on his door. And now that Soobin wasn’t seeing him grinding on Yeonjun in the middle of a night club, he thought he looked rather innocent. Maybe deceptively so.

“If it’s about the noise, you’ve got the wrong room.” The boy was suddenly very quick to defend himself, like he’d been in this situation before. “We don’t even have a tv.”

Sure enough, there was the ever-present dull thrum of movies being played too loud coming from down the hall, and Yeonjun’s roommate certainly knew which room was to blame, but he kept that information to himself, keen on not snitching on anyone.

“I’m not here about the noise, I don’t work here,” Soobin clarified, slightly amused as he watched the boy’s shoulders sag in relief. “I’m here to pick up some of Yeonjun’s things. He might have mentioned that I would be stopping by.”

The kid’s eyes went wide, very quickly making several connections in his head. “Oh, you’re…” Then, he frowned, and posed the question as though he didn’t really believe it, “You’re Yeonjun’s boyfriend?”

What an odd term for their relationship status, although he supposed it was the only suitable one. By all technicalities, yes, he was Yeonjun’s boyfriend, but he always felt like it was a strange thing to call himself. And he didn’t think of Yeonjun as his boyfriend. The word sat unpleasantly in his mouth whenever he tried. Yeonjun was so much more to him than that.

Still, he simply smiled politely. “Yes. Choi Soobin.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun’s roommate said again, then immediately dipped his head in a polite bow before opening the door wider to let him in. “I’m Huening Kai. You can…come in. Um, I think he hasn’t gotten around to packing a lot of his stuff, but it’s all on his side of the room.”

Soobin nodded, and followed him inside. The room was what he would expect of a college dorm. At least, Huening Kai’s side of the room matched expectations, plastered with posters of anime and video games, with shelves stacked high with manga and collectibles. He seemed to be a bit of a nerd, leaving the shelves not devoted to his niche hobbies cluttered with textbooks on mathematics and digital engineering.

Yeonjun’s side of the room appeared starkly empty and clean in contrast. Even if what Huening Kai said was true, and he hadn’t packed much, it looked like he barely owned anything to begin with. He had a table beside his bed that held a single lamp and his phone charger. A few textbooks about marketing and sewing were lined up neatly on the built-in shelf.

“I’m guessing he probably keeps a lot of stuff at your place,” Kai said lightly, although he sounded strangely nervous, and Soobin had no idea why. Was it his age? Or did Kai wonder if Soobin knew how he felt about Yeonjun? That, just like every friend Yeonjun seemed to make, he wanted to have him the way Soobin had him now.

“No, not really.”

In a detached sort of manner, he supposed he could acknowledge that Yeonjun’s roommate was good-looking, but he didn’t like the way he was watching him at all. His pale brown eyes were wide and young like a deer’s, lips parted as though he wanted to speak, fill the silence, but couldn’t think of anything to say.

It was like he was expecting Soobin to do something, waiting for it to happen, but he had no idea what.

“He mostly owns clothes,” Soobin said offhand, sliding Yeonjun’s closet open and feeling satisfied upon seeing that it, at least, looked full.

“Yeah…” Kai agreed. Then, as if he couldn’t help himself, he started asking questions, “So, are you a student, or…?”

Faintly amused, Soobin glanced at him. “Do I look like a student?”

“I thought you might be getting your master’s…”

Soobin nodded, and fetched a box he recognized from the closet floor, one he had lent to Yeonjun when they were initially packing his things for school. “I’ve finished my master’s.”

“Oh.” Kai clearly knew that already, but he was trying not to sound rude. What a waste. Soobin already had a poor opinion of him. “Um, what do you do, then?”

This boy was doing far too much, they really didn’t need to make small talk. However, he found it kind of funny, the lengths this kid would go to just to figure out how old his roommate’s partner was. Kai seemed to think he was being subtle. For that reason, Soobin continued to indulge him, albeit vaguely, as he began folding Yeonjun’s clothes and placing them in the box.

“I’m a teacher.”

Kai frowned again. “Oh. What do you teach?”

“Literature at the senior level.”

Finally, a few things began to click in place in the poor boy’s mind, and his frown morphed into a look of revelation, although not a pleasant one. “Oh. Like, you teach in a high school?”

Soobin discovered one of his own shirts hung up along with Yeonjun’s, and folded it before setting it aside. He would pack those separately. If they were to be sharing clothes, he wanted to know which ones he should expect to disappear again. “To put it simply, yes. I teach at a private academy.”

“So…how did you and Yeonjun meet?”

He wondered if this guy was a masochist, and just liked asking questions that he didn’t actually want to hear the answers to. Still, he glanced over at Kai’s shelf full of engineering and coding textbooks before looking back at him. “I’m sure you can figure that out.”

“Oh.”

Kai obviously wasn’t a very affluent speaker; Soobin wondered what Yeonjun saw in him at all, enough to have them kissing drunk when he wasn’t around. He wasn’t Yeonjun’s type. Tall and broad, maybe, but wasn’t he too…delicate?

Then again, he supposed Yeonjun thought Soobin was delicate, too. He wouldn’t ever really understand what he looked for in a guy.

“You’re free to head out if you have somewhere to be,” Soobin kindly gave him the opening to leave. “I’m just going to pack a couple of these boxes.”

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet, Kai replied, “No, that’s okay. I don’t have any more classes for the day.”

He didn’t want to leave Soobin alone in their room. Which was fair, he supposed, although the implication that he might do something unsavory irritated him. He was just here to pack boxes. He was trying to do something nice.

“Are you and Yeonjun good friends?” he asked, trying to sound mindless while he pulled more shirts from their hangers and began folding them.

“You could say that,” Kai answered reluctantly. “I think he’s a pretty decent roommate. He’s fun, and he introduced me to a lot of his other friends. But he also studies a lot, and makes me join him most of the time. Something about me not being good at it when he’s not around.”

Had Yeonjun really become such a devoted student in just the year since he had left Soobin’s classroom? He didn’t recall Yeonjun being particularly inclined towards studying at all, but maybe he behaved differently since Soobin was the one teaching him.

“I see. What’s your major?”

“I, um, double major. Digital engineering and numerical analysis.”

“I find it hard to believe that Yeonjun is better at studying than you, then.”

Yeonjun was a fashion major. Soobin wasn’t trying to sound belittling, but he really did find it improbable that he motivated someone with a science and mathematics focus to study.

“I get distracted easily,” Kai tried to explain, although he sounded kind of embarrassed. “So Yeonjun keeps me on task. He’s kind of strict about it, actually. It’s nice, though, I get a lot more done with him. His habits probably make you proud as a teacher, I’m sure.”

They both knew it was a weird thing to say.

“To be honest, I don’t recall him having good study habits at all.” Even odder, he supposed, as he essentially just confirmed Kai’s suspicion that Soobin taught Yeonjun in high school. “He’s gotten better since starting university, I guess.”

“He, um, talks about you a lot.” Kai was trying to sound friendly, sitting on the edge of his bed and trying not to watch Soobin pack too closely. “Only good things,” he clarified even though Soobin wasn’t concerned. He honestly didn’t care what impression Yeonjun’s friends had of him, it made no difference. “We all kept asking to meet you.”

“And what would Yeonjun say to that?”

Kai shrugged. “He says you’re busy.”

“He’s right.”

“Yeah…that makes sense.”

Soobin sighed. The forced conversation was growing painful even for him. Thankfully, he had years of teaching experience to draw on. As soon as you made them the topic of conversation, teenagers could go on for years. “Where are you from?”

“Me? Oh, I’m from Hawaii. I mean, I was born there. And then my family moved to California when I was five, and I went to school there, but we’ve traveled back and forth to Korea my whole life.”

He nodded. “You speak well for a foreigner.”

“My mom’s from Seoul,” Kai explained. “And her whole family doesn't speak English, so…”

“I see. Your father is American?”

“Yeah. I’m probably gonna go back and visit during the summer. I invited Yeonjun, actually. He’s been a couple times but seemed interested in going back.”

Soobin couldn’t help the frown that flickered on his face. When had Yeonjun gone to America? With who? For what reason? That wasn’t something insignificant. It was the sort of thing he should know.

“I’m sure he would enjoy that,” is all he said. He found it difficult not to talk to Kai like a child. Maybe it was his bright shining eyes or the way he spoke about everything so enthusiastically. And he seemed so unsure of himself. It made Soobin uncomfortable.

“He speaks really good English,” Kai went on. “Like, if I don’t know a word, I can say it in English and he’ll tell me what it is in Korean. I’m glad I have him as a roommate.” Then, a melancholy look crossed his face. “Well, I’m happy I did, anyway. I’m sure my new roommate will be nice, too.”

Poor kid. He really did seem like he would be lost without Yeonjun. But he should have thought about that before trying to hook up with him. It ruined friendships. And he knew Yeonjun was insistent that no such thing would have happened, but Soobin had his doubts. Yeonjun was clearly intoxicated and this kid was so charmingly innocent that it most likely would have happened completely by accident. Which Soobin couldn’t allow.

Yet he didn’t have the heart to be outwardly cruel, and so he said, “Yeonjun thinks you’re a really good friend, he’ll keep in touch.

He didn’t doubt it, either. Kai had quickly become one of Yeonjun’s best friends. He talked about him more than Taehyun these days.

And that seemed to please Kai, who smiled sweetly. He was far too cute for his own size, reminding Soobin of a golden retriever or a samoyed. “Yeonjun’s cool,” he said. “He made me feel pretty welcome here.”

Soobin didn’t want to talk about Yeonjun with him anymore, the realization dawning on him that this guy probably spent more time with his boyfriend than he did. “Why did you decide to go to an arts school if you’re enrolled in a sciences program?”

He continued to fold and box clothes as he asked. Yeonjun really did own too many. They all smelled faintly like him, cinnamon and something heady that he still couldn’t place.

“Um, it’s cheaper,” Kai replied honestly. “And also, I wanted to take a lot of classes in digital media, which is one of their, like, big programs here.”

“Are you an artist?”

Kai laughed, a big heavy cackle that Soobin wasn’t expecting. “If you said that in front of Yeonjun, he’d make a super scandalized face.”

He cackled again, as if visualizing it, and Soobin could sort of guess what expression he was referring to. Yeonjun had quite a particular face he made when he watched someone get praised for something Yeonjun personally believed they had no talent in. He had seen him make it at his agency several times, where he clearly thought himself to be above some of the other models, and didn’t agree with whatever compliment they were receiving. Yeonjun was a sweetheart, but only to the people he genuinely liked. It was odd to Soobin to think other people knew that about him as well.

“No, I’m not an artist,” Kai continued, clearing up any misconception. “I like drawing, but I’m not actually good at it. Kind of the opposite of Yeonjun, actually. He’s super talented but he can’t focus for that long. No, I mean digital media as in, like, website design. It kind of pairs with digital engineering. I mean, you can be a digital engineer -which deals with all the internal code and stuff- without being into design. You can pay other people to do it for you. But I think it’s fun, and it’s good experience, anyway.”

“Mm.” Soobin nodded.

“Is, uh, is Yeonjun coming back here, do you know?”

“I think he’s going to stay here during finals. I’m not going to take anything from his bed.”

“Cool.”

The conversation grew awkward and stagnant after that, but Soobin didn’t really mind the silence. He noticed Kai had taken his phone out and was scrolling through social media, doing his best not to watch Soobin pack, which he appreciated.

“Is Yeonjun really that good of a student?” he found himself asking out loud, the novelty of it quite not worn off yet.

“Huh? Yeah, he’s really passionate about his major, and he’s always up way later than me working on assignments. I mean, it’s probably harder for him because of his job, but every time I bring it up, he just brushes it off. He thinks he’s getting good work experience -which he is, for sure- and doesn’t really care about how much it stresses him out.”

“Is he stressed a lot?”

For the most part, Yeonjun always seemed to be in a cheerful mood around him, only ever snapping once or twice.

Kai shrugged. “He says he’s not.”

This kid really wasn’t one to give up anything about his friends. Soobin could ask him the most direct questions about Yeonjun, and Kai would still only answer with vague replies. He must know something Soobin didn’t. But maybe it was for the best that Soobin couldn’t use him to pry into Yeonjun’s university life.

“That’s good,” he replied, with nothing more to say on the subject. “One more box and I should be out of your way.”

Yeonjun’s closet was almost empty now- thankfully, because Soobin didn’t think he could endure much longer of this strained conversation.

Although, as he continued pulling down hangers, folding shirts and pants over and over, one thought refused to leave him. “Does he know you like him?” he asked, perfectly calm and keeping his focus on the clothes in his hands.

Kai’s tapping fingers on his phone ceased almost immediately.

“Because you must know that’s not really fair to him at all,” he continued. “He already has enough to worry about, and like I said, he thinks of you as a good friend. I’d hate to see you ruin your relationship with him over a silly thing like that.”

“I-” Stunned, Kai took a few moments to muster any sort of response. “It’s not like that.”

Soobin glanced at him from his spot on the floor, head tilted. “No? That’s good, then. I hope you keep it that way.” Then, folding in the corners of the box and surveying Yeonjun’s now-empty closet, he remarked, “I think that’s everything for now. Could you help me carry these out to my car?”

Kai was still a good, sweet boy, so he nodded and stacked two of the boxes, and even held the door open with his foot so Soobin could walk out with the other two.

Once they had fit everything into his trunk, he nodded in satisfaction and said, “Thanks for your help. And be sure to think about what I said.”

Kai wore an awkward expression, but he forced a smile. Maybe he couldn’t help himself. His spine needed a little strengthening. “Um, yeah. No problem. I will.”

“Call Yeonjun sometime,” Soobin advised, resting his arm on the hood of his car as he looked over the top to meet Kai’s nervous gaze. “Preferably sooner rather than later. He thinks you might be upset with him.”

Looking taken aback, Kai stutted, “O-oh, okay. I’ll do that.”

“Good. Enjoy your studies,” he remarked before getting into the driver’s seat, and Kai stepped back. For some reason, he watched Soobin all the way out of the parking lot. He didn’t mind so much, but it was strange to turn the corner while still feeling the kid’s eyes on him.

Even though he spoke simply and he wore a permanently confused look, Soobin got the feeling that Kai was smarter than he let on. His senses were sharp, and it left Soobin anxiously scanning back through their conversation in his head, wondering if he’d done or said anything wrong that Kai would feel the need to relay back to Yeonjun.

This was why he didn’t like involving other people in their relationship. Aside from all the judgment people would certainly throw his way, there was a distinct danger to letting Yeonjun’s friends know too much. They would form harsh opinions of him. And they would use those opinions to twist Yeonjun’s thoughts and make Soobin seem like a bad person even though they really didn’t know him at all.

It was better, then, to keep their relationship separate from everything else. Yeonjun could have his big social circle, his work parties, and drinks with colleagues. Soobin just couldn’t be involved in any of it. Hopefully Yeonjun would understand.

When he returned home, he carried Yeonjun’s boxes inside, since he was absolutely certain that Yeonjun would want to go through his clothes again before packing everything up. From what Soobin understood, he also had an entire closet full of clothes back at his mother’s house that he intended on packing as well.

If there was one thing Soobin would never mess with, it was Yeonjun’s clothes. He treasured them to an extent Soobin didn’t quite understand, and treated his wardrobe more like an impressive collection than a regular closet. He knew exactly where he had gotten everything, who made each item, and how much they cost. Soobin had learned not to ask at all, as it would send Yeonjun on a ten-minute explanation of a shirt’s history and its sentimental value to him.

It was cute, but they only had so much time in the mornings.

After that, he settled himself on the sofa with a new book, another one of Nam Junhyun's, as he realized he actually quite enjoyed the guy’s writing. He hadn’t had a chance yet to return to the bookshop and tell him in person, but he did order his most recent novel online.

About half an hour into his reading, his phone buzzed.

Choi Yeonjun

hey is it cool if i stay over tonight

Soobin smiled. Soon enough, they wouldn’t even need to have this conversation. Yeonjun would just come home to their apartment.

Me

Of course. I can order dinner if you’d like.

Choi Yeonjun

it’ll probably be pretty late, i’m working until nine. u can eat without me

Me

What are you going to eat?

Choi Yeonjun

they’ll feed me at the shoot they’re nice like that

While Soobin didn’t entirely believe him, he also lacked the energy to start an argument about it at the moment.

Me

Okay, I’ll see you later then.

Choi Yeonjun

<3 <3 <3

Thinking that was the end of their conversation, Soobin set his phone face-down on the table and picked up his book, only for it to vibrate again only two minutes later.

Choi Yeonjun

hey say it back

Yeonjun really was so cute. Soobin loved his petulance, the way he nitpicked the most obscure things because they genuinely mattered to him.

Me

That is a series of symbols on a keyboard, I physically cannot say it back.

He also liked that aspect of Yeonjun’s personality because it was very easy to tease him with. A bit of strict opposition riled him up unlike anything else.

Choi Yeonjun

ur so not fun old man

Although, he really should be banned from playing the old card whenever Soobin did something he didn’t like.

Me

I’m not old!

Choi Yeonjun

ok prove it

He had very cleverly been backed into a corner.

Me

<3

Choi Yeonjun

wow i can tell that took a lot out of u

Me

You’re not very nice, actually, did you know that?

Choi Yeonjun

yes. i have been deceiving u this whole time

Me

Oddly enough, I wouldn’t be that upset if that were true.

He meant it, as well. His life would actually be much easier if Yeonjun wasn’t so nice. Then, Soobin could tell when he had upset Yeonjun, and when Yeonjun was being genuine about the things he said. As it stood, Yeonjun was simply too selfless to say anything seriously that he thought might upset him.

Choi Yeonjun

i know. u think i’m hot when i’m mean

That wasn’t untrue, either.

Me

I think you’re hot all the time.

Choi Yeonjun

tell me more

Me

You have plenty of people showering you in attention right now, there’s no need for me to contribute.

Choi Yeonjun

yeah? u sound kinda jealous

It had become a bit of a running joke for Yeonjun to try to catch him being genuinely jealous over him and the people he hung out with, most likely because Soobin really didn’t get jealous the way Yeonjun wanted him to. However, the only time that it had actually happened was when Yeonjun was drunk that night, and Soobin knew he barely remembered any of it.

Me

Should I be concerned about how much you want me to be jealous of the people around you?

Choi Yeonjun

no

Choi Yeonjun

i just think it would be sexy. ~if~ u were jealous of course

Me

Unfortunately, I’m not jealous.

Choi Yeonjun

that’s not very sexy of u

Soobin knew just how much of a lie that was. Yeonjun continued to indulge in this game only because Soobin didn’t give him the response he desired. It would stop being fun once Soobin caved.

Me

I’m sure you think so.

Me

Enjoy your photoshoot, Yeonjun. I’ll see you in a few hours.

With that, he felt satisfied enough to click his phone screen off and resume his reading. It gave him a sense of triumph, being the one to end their conversations. Rationally, he knew it didn’t actually matter, but he liked having the last word. It seemed appropriate in his opinion, and reminded Yeonjun that talking back didn’t always go well for him.

He kept himself busy while waiting for Yeonjun to get home. He had a few outstanding assignments to go over from students who were trying to get everything submitted before the end of the grading period, so he spent some time at the dining table with his blue pen, reading through and grading a good portion of them. The rest could be saved for tomorrow morning. None of them kept his interest the way Yeonjun’s old assignments used to.

After that, he made himself a quick meal and took a shower, and by the time that was finished, he still had an hour or so until Yeonjun would be home.

So, he picked up his book once again.

A while later, he finally heard the front door open, and the sound of Yeonjun kicking off his shoes.

“In here,” Soobin called out, and Yeonjun padded down the hall towards the sound of his voice, looking about as tired as Soobin expected. He wore a tucked-in black track jacket and high-waisted jeans, and for once his glasses were on his face. Soobin was starting to warm up to them, thinking they were cuter the more he saw Yeonjun wear them.

“Hey,” Yeonjun said, swirling his iced coffee as a greeting.

“Hi.” Soobin held his place in his book with a hand on the page. “How was your day?”

“Ugh, long,” Yeonjun complained, and he experienced a sense of deja vu. It seemed like all of Yeonjun’s days were long recently. “But good. The photoshoot I did was for an autumn collection that I’ve been super excited about. I didn’t think they would pick me to wear it for the demo shots, but they did. Like, look.” Yeonjun pulled his phone out, tucking his coffee into the crook of his elbow. “Let me show you some of the b-cuts.”

He held out his phone for Soobin, and he peered at the screen in interest. The photos were of Yeonjun modeling various outfits, all of which looked cool and chic. Yeonjun had a particular aura that could only be captured through the lens of a camera, powerful and fierce, and he had no trouble understanding why they wanted him to model their pieces. Soobin wished he knew enough about fashion to make a comment that would be worth his time, but instead could only say, “That’s really cool, you look amazing.”

Still, it seemed to satisfy him, and he smiled. “I know, right? I’m excited to see the final spread once it comes out. Anyway, how was your day?”

“Good. Much more boring than yours. I read and graded assignments mostly. Oh, and I went to your dorm earlier to pack those boxes we talked about.”

“Yeah, Kai called. He said you were over,” Yeonjun confirmed, plopping on the couch beside him. The ice cubes in his coffee bumped up against the sides with the sudden motion. “He also said you interrogated him like you were my parent or something. Said it freaked him out a little.”

Soobin resisted the urge to develop an attitude over the issue. “For someone who appears to be so booksmart, he really has no communication skills whatsoever. I think he would have freaked out regardless of how I spoke to him. I honestly have no idea why you like the guy.”

Yeonjun frowned. “Come on, he’s a sweetheart.”

“That is not the impression I got. In fact, I think if he had a bit more of a spine, he might have even considered saying some very rude things to me.”

“About what?”

“About our relationship.”

“I think you’re projecting,” Yeonjun said dismissively. “You just think everyone is judging you all the time. Kai’s not like that.”

“And I think you see him with rose-tinted glasses,” Soobin countered, but turned his attention back to his novel. “You like him too much to see what’s really going on.”

Yeonjun set his coffee down. “What do you mean by that?”

“I mean,” he started, not taking in any of the words on the page in front of him, “he has the most obvious crush on you that I’ve ever seen. Completely pandering and lovestruck. He hates me for making you unavailable. It’s extremely childish.”

“First of all, you’re wrong,” Yeonjun flat-out denied. “And second of all, I think you’re being a little harsh.”

“Oh, really? Am I wrong? Why don’t you ask Beomgyu, then?”

“I’m not asking him that,” Yeonjun rebuked. “It’s ridiculous, and it makes me sound like a narcissistic dick.”

Soobin shrugged. “I don’t really care either way. You asked why I think he doesn’t like me, and I gave you my answer.”

Yeonjun picked up his coffee and took a long drink before insisting, “Kai doesn’t have a crush on me. We’re friends.”

“But you kissed him. Which I’m sure was just entirely platonic.”

“It was,” Yeonjun argued. “On your part, maybe. But I highly doubt he was thinking the same thing.”

“Why not?”

“Because, Yeonjun.” He closed his book firmly and finally looked at him. “You didn’t hear him today. The way he talks about you isn’t the way you talk about someone you think of as just a friend. All he wanted to talk about was you, even though he could tell it was weird. It was like he couldn’t stop himself. He’s infatuated with you.”

Yeonjun glared at him, like he wanted to argue but couldn’t think of anything to say in Kai’s defense. Then, looking furious about it, he yanked his phone out of his pocket and appeared to be texting someone. They sat in complete silence until two minutes later, his phone vibrated. Then it vibrated again, and he just stared at the messages until he clicked his screen off in anger.

Soobin had an idea of what just transpired. “What did Beomgyu say?”

Standing up, Yeonjun just shut down the question. “I don’t want to talk about it. I’m going to bed.”

Irritated, he asked, “Why are you mad at me over this? It’s not my fault.”

“It’s not anybody’s fault,” Yeonjun sighed, and he sounded more tired than anything else. “I just…Why don’t people ever just want to be my friend?”

Unable to feel all that sympathetic for him, Soobin just commented, “Oh, it must be so hard to have everyone you meet fall in love with you, what a painful existence.”

It wasn’t a problem Soobin ever had. He had difficulty making one person fall in love with him, let alone several. If he was in Yeonjun’s situation, his life would have been so much easier.

But Yeonjun reacted far more harshly than he expected. He rolled his eyes and snapped, “Forget it.” And then, before Soobin could say anything else, he disappeared down the hall and slammed their bedroom door shut behind him.

Every day it felt like they found something new to argue about. He couldn’t understand it. Were they both just stressed and overly sensitive? Or was there an underlying issue?

He knew Yeonjun expected him to just ignore the problem and act like nothing happened tomorrow. He was guilty of doing it before. But Yeonjun wasn’t any better. He wanted fights to go on for days, even about the smallest, most ridiculous things.

Soobin sighed, and set his book down on the coffee table. He needed to be more lenient with Yeonjun. Even now, he continued to forget that Yeonjun was young. His emotions came more intensely. Problems like these must feel more important. So even if Soobin thought it was a bit juvenile and absurd, he couldn’t just refuse to see it from Yeonjun’s point of view. It probably did feel disheartening in a way, not being able to form meaningful friendships without fearing that everyone wanted something more from you. And while he thought it was quite the privileged problem, if he really thought about it, he could relate a bit.

Going through high school and university with a very strict heterosexual mindset made forming friendships with women extremely difficult. He had a lot of classmates who he liked a lot, even if he didn’t feel romantically attracted to them, and wanted to be friends with. Although he was an introvert, he was still quite popular in school as he technically met all of the requirements: handsome, smart, and just charming enough to get by. He had an inclination for studying, and soft spots for plants and animals, which made girls feel comfortable around him. It was always easy for him to find a study partner.

But he had no interest in actually forming romantic relationships with anyone. He knew that if he became friends with a girl, eighty percent of the time she would start hitting on him in the next few months. It ruined the friendship, as he would have to turn her down -or take her out for a somewhat lackluster date- and they didn’t ever really talk again. And in doing so, he only earned himself a reputation for being a heartbreaker -which wasn’t true, he really wasn’t like that- and then girls just wanted to try their chance with him more.

It felt like a silly thing to complain about back then. Of course he knew he shouldn’t be upset about several of his classmates falling for him. His guy friends used to tease him about it all the time. But he was upset about the fact that he couldn’t form good friendships with girls, either.

Yeonjun must be feeling something similar now. Just the gay version, he supposed, which might be worse considering how close he was with his guy friends. They weren’t just classmates. They were his best friend, and his roommate, and god knows who else. His teacher, too, Soobin had to add as the irony of it hit him. He was just another person who fell for Yeonjun. And for some reason, Yeonjun picked him. And now Soobin was fighting with him about it.

Maybe he should have been more understanding.

His mind made up, Soobin got to his feet, retrieving something from the kitchen before following Yeonjun into the bedroom.

The lights were already turned out, but Soobin knew Yeonjun wasn’t actually asleep, so he flicked the lamp on, dousing the room in warm amber light.

Yeonjun’s head poked out from under the covers, blankets pulled all the way up to his shoulders, and his hair was all tufted from how hastily he’d climbed in. His clothes were discarded on the floor. He had his back to Soobin.

“Baby,” he said softly, perching on the edge of the bed.

After a few beats of silence, Yeonjun muttered grumpily, “What?”

“I’m sorry.” Yeonjun didn’t reply. So, Soobin used his free hand to ruffle his hair, repeating again, “I’m sorry. I should have been more considerate. I didn’t realize how upset you were.”

“I’m not upset.”

They both knew he was lying. Soobin scratched his head comfortingly. “Yes, you are. And it’s okay. You’re allowed to be upset.”

“Am I a bad friend?” Yeonjun wondered out loud.

“No. C’mon, sit up,” he murmured, and Yeonjun listened, letting Soobin coax him out of his blanket nest. And then he watched as Yeonjun’s eyes lit up once he saw what he held.

“Mint chocolate?”

He held out the pint of ice cream as a peace offering. “Mhm.”

“In bed?”

“Yep.”

Yeonjun took the ice cream gratefully, as well as the spoon Soobin held. But before he could even open it, a despondent look crossed his face, and he frowned. “Actually, maybe not tonight.”

“Are you sure? I got it for you.” Soobin didn’t even like mint chocolate ice cream. He wouldn’t have it in the house for any other reason.

Contemplating it, Yeonjun almost looked defeated when he sighed, saying, “I want it.”

“Then, you should have some. You never eat dessert.”

He wasn’t trying to pressure Yeonjun into eating. But he thought there was a better chance of him actually consuming food if Soobin presented it to him and sat with him while he ate.

“That’s true…” he agreed, although he still sounded hesitant. “Maybe just a little. I’m just…” he sighed as he popped the lid and dejectedly dug his spoon in. “I feel bad for being upset. Kai doesn’t deserve that. He has no idea I even know, so I’m wondering if maybe I should tell him? Would that make him feel better? Less pressure? Or would that make it worse?”

“I don’t really think it would help,” Soobin said honestly. He certainly wouldn’t feel better if he was in Kai’s position. Better to be oblivious and happy, especially at his age. And while he wasn’t thrilled about the fact that this guy had a crush on Yeonjun, he didn’t want the poor kid’s heart to get broken, either. That would be harsh. “Maybe it will fade with time. Or he might fall for someone else. You never know.”

Yeonjun continued to sigh, but at least he was picking at the ice cream. “I really like being friends with him.”

“I know.” It’s why he wasn’t proposing that Yeonjun ghost him entirely.

“Should I just pretend like I don’t know?”

“It might be for the best.” Yeonjun was silent for a few minutes, just scooping ice cream into his mouth and pouting into the container. When he held the spoon up to Soobin’s lips, he wrinkled his nose. “Gross.”

Yeonjun looked highly offended. “We share spoons all the time, what do you mean, gross?”

“I’m referring to your taste in ice cream.”

“You don’t like mint chocolate?”

“Correct. I have no interest in eating spoonfuls of toothpaste.”

Now Yeonjun’s mouth was open in a wide ‘o’ and he had never seemed more shocked in his life. “It’s not toothpaste. It’s yummy and refreshing, what’s wrong with you?”

Soobin raised his eyebrows. “I have taste buds. And there is nothing yummy or refreshing about it.”

“Now you’ve crossed the line,” Yeonjun muttered, shaking his head, but in a few seconds he was laughing. “Okay, so what flavor do you like?”

“All of them except mint.”

“Tasteless.”

“If I like every flavor except the one that you like, doesn’t that mean that you might be the one with poor taste?”

Yeonjun glared at him. “No,” he said very firmly, and Soobin chuckled. There really was no arguing with him. “Okay, just one bite,” he practically pleaded, and held his spoon up to Soobin’s mouth again.

He frowned. “I’m not eating your toothpaste ice cream, I’m sorry.”

“I think you just haven’t tried it enough.”

“Yeonjun, I don’t-'' Before he could finish his sentence, Yeonjun’s spoon was shoved in his mouth. He had no choice but to eat the ice cream. It tasted exactly like Soobin expected: toothpasty. “Hey!” he said as soon as he swallowed, but Yeonjun didn’t care about his indignation, already cracking up.

“Oh my god, you’re so cute, I wish you could’ve seen your own face,” he got out between laughs.

“You can’t just shove food into someone else’s mouth,” Soobin protested.

“You made the most adorable pout, though. On a scale from one to ten, how did it taste?”

Unimpressed, he just gave Yeonjun a look.

“Don’t say toothpaste,” Yeonjun added.

“Okay, it’s not like it’s the most disgusting thing. It’s just not an appealing flavor, I have no idea why someone would choose mint chocolate over any other flavor of ice cream. It’s the least satisfying.”

Yeonjun shook his head. “I respect your opinion, but your opinion sucks.”

“That might be the most age-appropriate thing you’ve ever said to me,” Soobin noted, and Yeonjun just stuck his tongue out at him. Thinking quickly, Soobin cupped his face before he could pull away and placed a kiss on his lips, swiping his tongue over the bottom one. Still minty, but much more enjoyable this way. When he leaned back, Yeonjun looked pink and flushed, and his spoon had dropped into the container. “It tastes better on you,” he remarked. “I’d eat it like that all the time.”

“You’re- you can’t-” Yeonjun stuttered, obviously flustered, and Soobin felt a flood of satisfaction. It was almost impossible these days to make Yeonjun blush.

“Clearly I can.”

Yeonjun set the ice cream aside and suddenly he was on his knees, looping his arms around Soobin’s neck and kissing him fiercely. His mouth felt cold, but still welcomed Soobin’s tongue in, allowing him to taste his sweet dessert, far more delicious than any ice cream flavor. He really didn’t like mint chocolate ice cream, but then again, a year ago he hadn’t liked black coffee, either. The more he tasted it on Yeonjun, the more he grew to crave it. They changed each other that way.

The sheets had fallen to Yeonjun’s waist, and Soobin pulled them back, wanting to hold his thighs. In contrast, his skin felt warm and soft, and Soobin gripped him tightly as he deepened their kiss. Warmth fluttered in his stomach, enough to combat the chill their earlier argument had left behind, and he was reminded again why he did all this in the first place- because he cared about Yeonjun and hated leaving nights on a bad note with him.

“Lay back,” he said softly against his mouth, and Yeonjun listened, resuming his spot on the pillows. Instead of staying on top of him like he usually would, Soobin laid down beside him, and gently held Yeonjun’s face to reconnect their lips. It felt more intimate this way, less about who was in control and more about simply being together.

Yeonjun rested his hand on Soobin’s waist, clutching his shirt to hold him closer as they kissed. There wasn’t any rush, no sudden feeling of desperation. Slowly but surely, that sensation of sand trickling through his hands had begun to ease. He no longer felt like Yeonjun would simply disappear one day. Yeonjun lay here with him, warm and content, and there wasn’t any reason why they couldn’t stay like that for a long time.

His hands were steady as he undid the buttons on Soobin’s shirt. “I like this shirt on you,” Yeonjun murmured.

Soobin sat up to let the shirt fall from his shoulders. He liked the feeling of Yeonjun’s hands on him, tender and certain. Different from how they had felt a year ago. Now it felt like Yeonjun knew him, he knew that Soobin liked the way he brushed his thumb up and down along his bicep as he kissed him again, that he liked when they intertwined their fingers. Yeonjun kissed his cheek, and then his jaw, leading him to lay back down. He still held Soobin’s hand while he used his other to rake his fingertips lightly down his back.

“The ice cream,” Soobin mumbled as he thought about it, currently melting on his nightstand, leaving water rings in the wood.

Yeonjun didn’t listen, just placed his mouth on Soobin’s neck and started sucking slow, dizzying marks into his skin. He shut his eyes and let the sensation overtake him, his hand finding Yeonjun’s bare hip just to have something to hold on to. Yeonjun’s lips were soft and wet, and his teeth were insistent, rougher than Soobin would be.

“A-ah, really, let me put the ice cream away-” he tried to say again.

Yeonjun broke away to give him a sultry, but firm, look. His eyes were dark, lips red and begging to be devoured. “Forget about the ice cream.”

“But-”

Suddenly, Yeonjun nipped his lip, stunning Soobin into silence. “Pay attention to me. I’m your priority. Not the ice cream.”

“But the wood…” Yeonjun bit him again before he could finish, and Soobin couldn’t tell if it was cute or sexy. He touched a finger to his bottom lip, felt where it had swollen, red as it filled with blood.

“Learn to let things go,” he said softly. Sexy, Soobin decided. He sounded sexy when he took power into his own hands.

“Okay,” he agreed, and Yeonjun smiled, leaning in to kiss him again.

Soobin took him more fully into his arms, allowing their hands to separate so he could wrap his arms around Yeonjun’s waist and press their bodies closer together. He loved the feeling of their chests pressed together, skin to skin, with nothing in between them. It was one of the sensations he discovered turned him on far more with another man. It was rougher, more angles and edges, something he didn’t realize he enjoyed until he started allowing himself to with Yeonjun.

And he knew Yeonjun liked it, too. Every kind of physical affection satisfied him, but in particular he liked being able to get his hands on Soobin’s body, mapping him out with his fingers and his mouth, gentle but relentless. When Soobin gripped him tighter, Yeonjun hummed, rubbing his thighs against one another. He always made such sweet sounds, and Soobin could feel the tip of Yeonjun’s cock against his hip.

“Isn’t this better?” Yeonjun murmured, ducking his head to place a fluttering, teasing kiss on Soobin’s collarbone.

He nodded, inhaling as he stifled the urge to grip Yeonjun’s hair. He didn’t need to control him all the time.

And sure enough, Yeonjun went where he wanted anyway, fingers pressed into Soobin’s sides as he slowly moved from his neck to his chest, then trailed his mouth down, leaving wet, warm kisses in his wake.

Yeonjun didn’t go for his waistband immediately, even though his cock was beginning to take interest, half hard in his sweatpants. He spent time lavishing Soobin’s abdomen with rough bites, making sure to leave his mark in places no one else would ever see. But the two of them, they would know. And that was enough.

He got the hint when Yeonjun started squeezing his waist, and sat up against the pillows, letting Yeonjun fit himself between his legs.

The position felt familiar. They had tried to fuck like this last time, when Yeonjun was drunk. And he felt the urge to apologize again, even if it would ruin the moment.

“Yeonjun-ah, I-”

“It’s okay.” He sat on his knees between Soobin’s thighs, and his soft sweet voice poured over him like caramel. “I know.”

How could he possibly know if they had barely even talked about it? Soobin even went so far as to make himself the victim of the evening, but Yeonjun was choosing to let it go.

“Just…” Yeonjun reached forward, placing a deceptively chaste kiss on Soobin’s lips before pulling back. His smaller pink fingers tucked a lock of Soobin’s hair behind his ear. “Relax, okay?”

He searched his gaze, but even though it held all the same dark intensity as usual, Yeonjun only ever seemed to want to please him. “Okay,” he found himself agreeing.

Yeonjun kissed him one more time, saying softly against his lips, “You can close your eyes if you want.”

Soobin let his eyes fall shut. He could feel Yeonjun in front of him, felt the way he dragged his hands down Soobin’s chest, rubbing a wet thumb against his nipple, before taking it gently into his warm mouth. Soobin’s breath hitched in his throat, but he let himself succumb to the sensation. The persistent rolling of his tongue, his thick pretty lips, and the teasing pressure of his teeth put him on edge in a way that had his blood racing. When Yeonjun released it to play with the other one, he knew it was hard now, betraying how much their little activity had begun to intrigue him. The air felt cold on his spit-slicked chest.

“You’ve got such a nice body, hyung,” Yeonjun murmured as he finally hooked his fingers in the waistband of Soobin’s sweatpants. “I hope I look like you when I’m thirty.”

What a devilishly innocent thing for him to say. Yeonjun had yet to even hit twenty. Upon hearing such a statement, anyone listening in would immediately be appalled.

But he supposed there was a reason they had kept it their little secret for so long. That’s what Soobin had called it when Yeonjun was a student. Their little secret. Sometimes he forgot, when it was just the two of them so wrapped up in the ideal picture of domesticity that they painted. Sometimes, he felt so young in Yeonjun’s presence that it rarely crossed his mind. There was a reason they kept their relationship hidden, and not because they were both men. But because Yeonjun was still a teenager.

“Baby, I promise you’re going to look much better than me at thirty,” he said softly, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Yeonjun looking up at him from between his thighs with a gaze too wide and sweet to spell anything less than disaster for him. Yeonjun’s lips were parted and wet, and his cock stood up between his legs, flushed and drooling. He made for such a stunning sight. So responsive and easy to play with. Was Soobin a bad person for loving it so much?

Yeonjun would turn twenty in a little over six months. Maybe he would feel better about it then.

“You don’t know that,” Yeonjun mumbled shyly, sounding much less bold now that Soobin was watching him.

“I think I do,” he replied lightly, and in an equally as teasing voice he asked, “Are you going to do something, or are you just going to sit there and look pretty?”

Yeonjun gave him a coy tilt of his head. “That would be enough for you, wouldn’t it?”

“Mm, probably,” he agreed without too much trouble. He spent several months being satisfied with simply the sight of him, unaware of just how beautiful Soobin thought he was.

“Maybe that’s what I’ll do, then,” Yeonjun hummed, resting his head on Soobin’s thigh as he tucked his legs under him. And Soobin knew he was trying to tease him, since Yeonjun had already gone to all the trouble of turning him on, but he really didn’t mind. It was a cute effort, but Soobin wasn’t a horny teenager. He could tolerate an erection.

“Are you tired, baby?” he asked softly, petting Yeonjun’s silky hair. He liked the lighter color on him. Black looked too severe. The ashen brown suited him, more delicate and tender.

“Do I look tired?”

He watched Soobin with half-lidded eyes, cheek a little smushed from where he lay on Soobin’s leg. He could feel his breath on his cock, warm and teasing.

“A little.”

Yeonjun pouted. “I’m not.”

“Tell that to your face, then.”

“Hey!” Yeonjun swatted his leg, sitting up straight. And Soobin laughed, because he really was the cutest little thing in the world. “I was gonna suck you off, but now I don’t want to.”

“That’s alright, I think you might have fallen asleep halfway through if you tried.”

Yeonjun continued to glare at him, but there was no venom behind it. “You’re so unsexy sometimes, did you know that?”

Soobin chuckled, cupping Yeonjun’s cheeks in his hands. “I’m sorry, did I ruin your moment?”

“Yes,” he replied petulantly.

“Do you want to try again?” When he asked this time, his tone was lower, a rough whisper as he kissed Yeonjun again, the words getting lost between their lips.

“I was gonna-” Yeonjun tried to say, but Soobin forced his tongue past his parted lips, effectively cutting him off. And Yeonjun didn’t try to protest. He crossed his wrists behind Soobin’s neck and allowed himself to be guided. It was a sweet rarity, when Yeonjun went quiet and simply let Soobin lead him where he pleased. But when he did choose to give in, he relinquished control so gracefully. He didn’t need it, really. Not when he had Soobin. Soobin knew what was best for him, what would satisfy him the most. Yeonjun had been trying to persuade him to relax, but secretly, Soobin thought he needed it more.

When they broke apart for air, Soobin pressed two of his fingers to Yeonjun’s slick cherry-red lips, and watched as he blinked those pretty feline eyes open and took them into his mouth.

Obedient, Yeonjun dragged his tongue over Soobin’s fingers, making sure his spit coated both of them. He maintained eye contact the entire time, and Soobin could only watch, bewitched by his gaze and the movement of his tongue. He curled his fingers in, pressed them to the roof of Yeonjun’s mouth, and his tongue chased them, lips closing softly around both digits. Slowly, Soobin thrust his fingers back and forth, and Yeonjun sucked them, spit escaping down the corner of his mouth.

He tightened his grip on Yeonjun’s hair and imagined his cock between those lips instead. All at once, he regretted distracting Yeonjun from his original task. But maybe if he asked nicely…

“Yeonjun-ah…”

“Mm?” The sound vibrated around Soobin’s fingers, and his dick twitched in his pants, suddenly quite envious of the treatment they were receiving.

“Can I fuck your mouth?”

Yeonjun pulled back, letting Soobin’s fingers slip out. “Say please.”

He raised his eyebrows. They really were playing for power dynamics today after all.

“What?” Yeonjun tilted his head, wearing a cocky expression. “Does it hurt your pride? Because it hurts my throat when you fuck it, but I’m nice like that.”

“I thought we settled this earlier today,” Soobin murmured, gripping his chin with his wet fingers. “You’re not really nice at all.”

“I’m nice for you,” Yeonjun disagreed, and Soobin had to admit, his oppositional attitude turned him on. He found it attractive, the fact that he couldn’t always anticipate what Yeonjun would do at any given moment. And that if he put up a fight, Soobin would get the opportunity to put him back in his place. He really did enjoy humbling Yeonjun, who had too much of the arrogance that came with youth for his own good. “You could do the same for me.”

“I’d say that I’m already being quite nice,” he countered. “Since you were considering kicking me out of my own bed tonight.”

Yeonjun shrugged. “Maybe you earned it.”

“Or maybe,” Soobin said softly, even as his fingers pressed more roughly against Yeonjun’s jaw and chin, “You were acting like a little spoiled brat, throwing a tantrum over nothing, and I was kind enough to forgive you.”

“You’re such a dick,” Yeonjun whispered, but his eyes were narrowed, the ghost of a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Soobin kissed him once, then pointed out, “You wouldn’t like me if I wasn’t.”

He thought he treated Yeonjun fairly well, all things considered, but he wondered how much of that Yeonjun really cared about. Soobin knew he would settle for less. He just didn’t understand why. It made him relieved, then, to know that Yeonjun had chosen him.

“Mm,” Yeonjun agreed, and let his tongue glide over Soobin’s bottom lip. “Maybe not.”

He carded his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair, and said softly, “Come on, pretty boy, I’m asking nicely.”

“You’re not asking at all. But I do like it when you call me your pretty boy,” he admitted.

And because Soobin’s pride really didn’t matter all that much in the grand scheme of things, he asked sweetly, “Please let me fuck your mouth?”

Yeonjun sighed, his attitude breezing past like a warm summer wind. “Fine. Since you asked.” It really didn’t take much. Yeonjun was already fit snugly between Soobin’s legs, and all he had to do was pull down his sweatpants. His cock lay half-hard against his thigh, and Yeonjun licked his palm before taking it into his hand.

Soobin knew Yeonjun would give in eventually, but it paid to cave into his demands every once in a while. He looked rather pleased with himself as he stroked Soobin to full hardness, satisfied with the fact that he had won for once. With a coy, coquettish tongue, he licked over the flared head of Soobin’s cock like candy, letting his spit spill past his lips and down his length. It became wet and messy quickly, with his hand moving in fast, hard strokes, as if he meant to make him cum before he even got a chance to be in his mouth.

“That’s good enough,” Soobin murmured, and took Yeonjun’s hand away. Yeonjun rested it on his thigh instead, and dragged his tongue over the tip of his cock a few more times before slowly taking it into his mouth. He had taken Soobin’s advice to heart the first time he ever sucked his dick, and since then he always started slow. Soobin could understand. It was a lot to take at once.

But he no longer cared so much about matching the pace Yeonjun set. His mouth felt fucking heavenly, so warm and wet, and he knew Yeonjun could handle a little rough treatment. So, he gathered Yeonjun’s hair in one hand and held him in place as he thrust up into his mouth. The hand on Soobin’s thigh curled into a fist, but otherwise he gave no sign of discomfort, so he gripped tighter and started using him like a toy.

He fucked his mouth brutally, the blunt tip of his cock hitting the back of Yeonjun’s throat over and over, and Yeonjun whined every time but never coughed or gagged. His throat had been trained well over the past year, already a champion cocksucker at the age of nineteen, and Soobin almost felt bad for not using him more.

“Fuck,” Soobin panted as Yeonjun swallowed around him, encouraging Soobin to give him more, to fuck his throat until he couldn’t speak. Yeonjun’s mouth looked prettiest with a cock between his lips, like rosy flower petals slick with spit. “You’re so- so fucking beautiful like this,” he said harshly, tightening his hold on Yeonjun’s hair and jerking his head to the side so he could thrust into him at an angle. “You always take me so well, so talented and pretty…”

Praise always made everything better for Yeonjun, and Soobin could feel his nails digging into the skin of his thigh, like a cat kneading. He took his cock all the way down to the base, until Soobin’s balls met his chin, wet with spit, and did this a few times before he had to tap Soobin’s leg to be released. As soon as Soobin let go of his hair, Yeonjun pulled off his cock and coughed, tears in his lashes and trailing down his cheeks. Spit and pre-cum coated his face, and Soobin’s cock throbbed at the sight, already desperately wanting to be back in him.

“Too deep,” Yeonjun complained pitifully, voice hoarse already, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “You’re too big.”

Soobin was breathing heavily, and more pre-cum dribbled out of the tip of his cock from hearing those words, but he managed to say, “You don’t have to fit all of it. I’ll be more gentle.”

But Yeonjun had that look in his eyes, that dark, fiercely competitive look he wore when he resolved to meet a challenge. Soobin had never seen a more attractive expression. “No, just pull on my hair more or something.”

“Okay,” Soobin agreed, and guided his mouth back to his cock. Yeonjun parted his lips obediently and let Soobin ease his entire length into his mouth in one go. As soon as that tight wet heat encased him again, he started moving his hips. He could feel Yeonjun’s tongue teasing the underside of his cock and a low moan slipped out of him. He pounded into his mouth like he would his ass, rough and unforgiving, and if it weren’t for the hold he had on Yeonjun’s hair, he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it. So he gathered even more of it between his fingers and used the leverage to fuck his mouth back down onto his cock. Yeonjun whimpered, the sound creating pleasant vibrations that only drove him deeper into his throat, and with a few more strokes, Soobin felt himself unravel.

He pulled out so just the tip of his cock rested on Yeonjun’s tongue and used his hair to hold him in place while cum spurted into his mouth, thick and milky. Yeonjun kneeled there perfectly still until the last drop landed on his tongue and Soobin finished cumming. Then, he blinked up at Soobin and showed him his load.

Completely spent, Soobin asked breathlessly, “You want to swallow?” Usually, he didn’t make him. He thought Yeonjun didn’t like the taste.

But Yeonjun nodded, and when he opened his mouth again, it was empty.

“Fuck,” Soobin groaned. “Come here.” Even though he had been drained of energy, he pulled Yeonjun into his arms and kissed him fiercely, and wrapped a hand around his hard, weeping cock. It only took a few strokes to have Yeonjun coming all over his fingers and stomach, but he rode the high for a while, continuing to thrust into Soobin’s fist as the sensations of his orgasm tore through him. He moaned so prettily when he came, and let Soobin swallow each one, his tongue chasing the taste of his own release in Yeonjun’s mouth.

When he finally went to pull away, Yeonjun whined and wrapped his arms tighter around Soobin. He let him kiss him until he was satisfied, and once Yeonjun had his fill, they simply lay together in silence, their bodies overlapping.

Soobin combed his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair, tucking his head under his chin. He wanted to soothe all the harsh yanking with a soft touch. And Yeonjun traced lazy circles over Soobin’s chest, simply feeling his body beneath his fingertips. It was pleasant. They didn’t have to say anything.

Eventually, Yeonjun murmured in a husky voice, “I’m not going to be able to talk at all in the morning.”

Soobin smiled to himself. “Good. Maybe you’ll have learned something about talking back, then.” The statement earned him a little slap on the chest, but it made him chuckle. More seriously, he said, “You know you can always tell me if you don’t like something that I’m doing in bed, right?”

Yeonjun propped himself up to look at him. “I know,” he said, sounding completely genuine. “Why do you say that?”

“It’s just not something I’ve ever said before. It feels important, though.”

“I would tell you,” Yeonjun said softly. “You don’t have to worry about every little thing.”

“You promise?”

Yeonjun kissed his nose. “Promise. The same goes for you, too.”

He nodded, but in his head, they were two different things. He had a responsibility to make sure that Yeonjun was comfortable. Not because of their sex positions, but because Yeonjun frequently let him be the one to take control. Soobin knew he could be a rough and selfish lover, and he wanted Yeonjun to know that it was okay to set boundaries with him. He always seemed fine to go along with whatever Soobin wanted, but he didn’t really know what actually turned Yeonjun on, or what he enjoyed the most. Yeonjun never expressed an opinion one way or another. He was just content with pleasing Soobin, and as long as he got off as well, the way it happened didn’t seem to matter.

Sometimes, Soobin just wished Yeonjun would open up more. Even now, as they shared a bed, and a new apartment, and arguably a new stage of life, he felt like he didn’t know Yeonjun the way he wanted to. He wanted to understand him deeply, beyond the pieces of himself that he let Soobin see and pick apart. But maybe that was the sort of thing that came with time.

He sighed, and placed another kiss on Yeonjun’s head. “We need to shower.”

It wasn’t really a necessity- it’s not like they had fucked. But they liked ending their nights together like that, to the point where it had become routine. Soobin didn’t mind showering twice if it meant sharing the second one with him.

Yeonjun groaned, but eventually rolled out of bed and let Soobin drag him by the hand into their bathroom. It turned out to be a longer affair than expected, as they kissed under the water spray for a while, and when they made it back to bed, they were equally exhausted.

But still, a warm feeling settled in his stomach. He felt satisfied, and optimistic for what the next days, weeks, and months held. He liked this thing they had. This special, glowing thing meant only for the two of them, and a fluttering hope began to stir in his chest as the reality of it became more and more vivid. This feeling wouldn’t disappear in the morning. Yeonjun would still be here, they would still be together, and it would be like that for many mornings to come.

───────✧❁✧───────

Soobin didn’t think much would change when they started living together. And for the most part, he was right. Things were still pretty much the same, except Yeonjun came home to him every night, which actually made all the difference in the world.

His anxiety around where Yeonjun was, what he was doing, and who he was with, eased considerably. Yeonjun typically told him over dinner what his day would look like, and Soobin got a better understanding of his work schedule. Yeonjun even wrote down his class times for the new semester on a sticky note for Soobin to keep by his computer. It wasn’t something he explicitly asked for. But Yeonjun seemed to know he wanted it.

Luckily, the new semester hadn’t started, so they spent the first week together unpacking and cleaning. Yeonjun had ordered new sheets, curtains, towels, and all sorts of other household necessities that he was very excited to decorate with.

All in all, the new apartment looked nice. Marginally better than Soobin’s old one, more spacious and modern, and they settled into it without too much trouble.

However, with more time on his hands, Yeonjun had to find new ways to occupy himself, several of which he roped Soobin into. He could hear Yeonjun in the converted bedroom often, sewing some garment that he would undoubtedly have Soobin trying on by the end of the day. It was fun. More than anything, he found it comforting. Yeonjun played a lot of music, and he liked to coax Soobin outside for walks around their neighborhood. He was definitely more active than he had been while living alone.

And he liked all the little surprises every day brought.

One evening, he sat on the new sofa, flicking through another book by Nam Juhyun. All of them really were captivating, each novel self-contained and bittersweet.

He heard footsteps from the hall and glanced up.

“Hyung.” Yeonjun popped around the corner with one of their new towels around his waist, hair still wet. He took a lot of showers, Soobin had come to learn, especially since he had immediately become fond of their new glass shower. “Can I paint your nails?”

Maybe it was because Yeonjun stood there half-naked, but it took Soobin a moment to register what question was even being asked. A water droplet slowly made its way from Adam's apple down his chest, and Soobin’s eyes followed it the entire time until he realized he was staring. “What?”

Still, ever patient, albeit a bit smug, Yeonjun repeated, “Your nails, can I paint them?”

“Why?”

“Because I’m not allowed to paint mine anymore. It’s a pain for my stylists to remove all the time. But I promised Beomgyu I’d make his look really cool for his show on Saturday, and I haven’t practiced in a while. It’s different doing it on other people.”

Soobin wrestled with the question. He was a thirty-four year old man. And it wasn’t like this was a daughter or niece asking, or something. It was Yeonjun, an equally adult man.

Well, maybe not equally. Yeonjun was young. He could get away with things like this still, under the guise of being cool and trendy, but Soobin? Not so much.

Still, the look on Yeonjun’s face compelled him. He very clearly wanted Soobin to say yes. It would make him happy.

“If you promise to take it off after,” he tentatively agreed, and Yeonjun lit up.

“I promise.”

His smile was worth it.

And so, he waited on the couch while Yeonjun disappeared back down the hall, only to return a few minutes later still shirtless and clutching a basket filled with things. At least he had the decency to put on sweatpants.

“You’re not going to put a shirt on?” he found himself voicing aloud, and Yeonjust just gave him a look like he was crazy.

“I don’t want to stain any. Besides,” a lazy smirk made its way onto Yeonjun’s face as he sat cross-legged on the floor in front of him. “I figured you’d appreciate the view.”

It was moments like these where Yeonjun’s masculine charm hit him full force and he had no idea how to process it.

Thankfully, Yeonjun winked and moved on. “Come sit,” he said, patting the floor next to him. Wordlessly, Soobin did as he was told, taking the pillow Yeonjun passed him and joining him on the floor.

“Are you good at…this?” Soobin asked doubtfully while Yeonjun pulled several foreign objects out of his little wicker basket. He laid a hand towel out between them.

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Of course I’m good at it. I’ve only been doing it for half my life. But like I said, it’s harder on other people. Plus,” he gave Soobin a deviously sweet smile. “I’ve been wanting to paint your nails for ages.”

“Why?” he asked, genuinely bewildered. He didn’t have pretty hands like Yeonjun. His palms were large, fingers too thick for rings. There was no point in dressing them up.

“I like your hands,” Yeonjun remarked casually, as if it were the most logical thing in the world. Carefully, he took Soobin’s right hand and began clipping his nails. And even though he was being precise, Soobin still found himself trying not to recoil. “You’re so jumpy.”

“It’s weird having someone else cut your nails.”

“I’m not going to pinch you.”

“Not on purpose.”

“Scaredy cat.”

“I’m not, it’s just a natural response,” he protested, and Yeonjun smiled. He watched dubiously while Yeonjun did the other hand, not getting him with the clippers to his relief, before setting those aside and retrieving a file instead. “None of this looks like painting,” he pointed out.

“This is like nail painting foreplay,” Yeonjun explained.

“You could just say preliminary steps.”

“Okay, but it’s more like foreplay because it’s not technically necessary.”

“You have never once said that foreplay isn’t necessary,” he muttered, and Yeonjun tapped him on the head with the file. “Hey, no violence!”

Yeonjun shrugged, laughing to himself. “Oops. Okay, other hand.”

He gave him his other hand and watched him file his nails into a decently round, even shape that he doubted he’d ever achieved in his life. It’s not like his hands faced a lot of detriment or harsh treatment considering his career. The most intense thing he handled was a piece of chalk from time to time. But it just wasn’t the kind of thing he ever thought of putting extra care into. He cut his nails of course, but that was about it.

“What is that?” he asked as Yeonjun set the file down and instead started taking a thick cube thing to the tops of his nails as if trying to grate them down or something.

“A buffer.”

“What does it do?”

“It buffs.”

Soobin glared at him. “You’re so not helpful.”

“Now you know how I feel when I ask you anything.”

“I do not act so superior.”

“Oh, you do,” Yeonjun assured him. “You’re just lucky because I think it’s attractive.”

Soobin gave it some thought before noting, “You find some of the strangest things attractive.” Not many people would put up with something like that.

Yeonjun shrugged again. “Not really. We all have things we like. And then we pick the people who happen to have a lot of those things all rolled up in one. I think that’s just…kind of how it works.”

He pursed his lips as he considered it some more. “I don’t think I knew what I liked at all until I met you.”

Yeonjun glanced up from his hands. “What do you mean?”

“I mean I had never been so attracted to…anyone, really.”

“You probably would have if you let yourself feel attracted to other guys,” Yeonjun pointed out. But Soobin wasn’t so sure. He had certainly had fleeting thoughts here and there that guys he met in his life were visually appealing. But he’d never developed the sort of infatuation he experienced when meeting Yeonjun with anyone else. There had been plenty of chances. He had friendships that, if he weren’t so afraid and if an intense enough feeling could have struck him, might have turned into something more. Times where he maybe should have fallen in love, but didn’t, for whatever reason. Maybe he let those chances pass him by, or maybe they just didn’t call to him in the same way.

“I really think I’ve only ever been that attracted to you,” he admitted, and Yeonjun’s work on his fingers slowed. “Of course I’ve met people who were appealing to me in one way or another, but not in the way you’re talking about. Where it all…comes together. And it’s perfect.”

“I’m not perfect.” Yeonjun spoke as if it were delicate, although he resumed his buffing.

“No,” Soobin agreed. “No one is. But to me, you are. That’s the way it’s supposed to work. Isn’t it?”

It took Yeonjun a moment to answer. “Maybe,” he said quietly. Then he set the buffer down and looked up at him. “Go rinse your hands.”

Soobin couldn’t tell what he was thinking. His eyes were dark and sharp just like always, clear enough to give away nothing, and he wore no particular expression. That was okay. He had gotten used to no longer being able to read Yeonjun’s face the way he used to. He grew out of being an open book, and maybe it was for the best.

He nodded and got to his feet. After he ran his hands under the bathroom tap, he returned to find Yeonjun had brought out another basket, this one brimming with nail polish in every color of the rainbow.

“Do I get to pick my own color?” he inquired, kind of getting into it, and Yeonjun smiled brightly.

“Yeah, pick a couple.”

“Are you going to judge me if they’re not coordinated enough?”

“No, hyung. Coordination is boring. Express yourself.”

It struck him as an oddly beautiful thing to say. Express yourself. Cliche, but not a phrase anyone had ever told Soobin in his life. Even in all of his years doing creative writing for university, there was always a prompt, a mark to be hit, something to conform to for a grade.

Yeonjun didn’t care about any of that. There was no prompt or mark, and it would all disappear anyway. It didn’t matter.

Soobin sat on the floor and pulled the basket closer to him. All of the bottles made a satisfying clacking noise as he sifted through. “Is blue your favorite color or did I make that up?”

“Don’t worry about my favorite color,” Yeonjun said lightly. “Just pick what you’re drawn to.”

“Okay,” he obliged. “But is blue your favorite color?”

“Sometimes.”

“You can’t sometimes have a favorite color.”

“Sure I can. And sometimes it’s blue. Sometimes it’s not. Besides, I think blue is too big of an umbrella anyways. Like, why do indigo and violet get separate spots on the rainbow but baby blue and navy blue are still just blue? They’re two completely different colors.”

“I didn’t make the rainbow, baby, I don’t know.”

“Why did you think my favorite color was blue?”

Soobin frowned. “You said you liked it.” Then, he had to wrack his memory. “A long time ago, I guess. When you took your CSATs. I said I was getting you a cake, and you told me to get a blue one because you liked the color.”

He had always just subconsciously associated Yeonjun with the color blue. Not only because of the cake, but because Yeonjun made him think of the sky. Vast and endless, full of life and possibility. Enduring yet ever-changing. Maybe it wasn’t the color blue at all. It was the sky itself. The orange of the setting summer sun under which they had first met; the pink primrose of early mornings shared in intimacy; the heavy dark storms that brewed behind his eyes, the ones Soobin loved getting swept up in; and especially the blue velvet of nightfall, deep and quiet, a blanket sewn with stars.

The sky was youth. It was the pale blue watcher of a perfect day, holding the kites kids ran along with, feeling like they could run forever under its careful embrace. He remembered feeling like that. And he felt like that now, somehow, like he could run forever so long as the sky watched over him. As long as it stayed by his side. A companion, a confidante, and a final confession. He wanted to look to the sky until he couldn’t anymore, and know it would keep safe all that he left in its care.

“I probably liked it at the time,” Yeonjun agreed, and Soobin looked at him, wishing somehow that he could convey that he understood what Yeonjun meant about blue. Blue was made up of different colors. And Yeonjun was made up of different skies. But each sky was still him, and Soobin loved every single one.

“What do you like now?” he asked softly.

Yeonjun considered it, examining the basket full of colors. He touched them with the tips of his fingers, rolling the bottles over one another. “Purple, I think.”

“And tomorrow?”

“I don’t know yet.”

Soobin cupped Yeonjun’s cheeks and kissed him once. His lips were soft and he tasted minty. Then he let him go and started looking through the basket again.

“What was that for?” Surprise colored Yeonjun’s voice.

He shrugged. “Nothing.” I love you, was what he meant but he would never find the right words to say it. Then, he pulled out three shades and stood them upright. “I like these ones.”

“I told you not to pick my favorite color,” Yeonjun protested as Soobin set out a light blue, a pastel yellow, and a deep shimmery purple.

“I wanted to pick it before you said purple.”

“Liar.”

“Prove it,” he encouraged with a slight smile on his face, and watched Yeonjun struggle to come up with a reasonable argument.

“Okay, fine. Purple it is.”

The nail polish felt colder than he expected. Yeonjun wore a concentrated expression as he coated his nails in purple, and Soobin looked on, more fascinated than he thought he’d be.

It was just kind of…neat. His nails looked pretty when Yeonjun moved the brush from one to the next, and it seemed to take more effort on Yeonjun’s part than he initially believed it would. Soobin held as still as possible and listened to Yeonjun mutter under his breath about consistency and texture.

“That one’s a little chunky,” he admitted, tapping below the nail on Soobin’s left ring finger. “Sorry. I’m not a professional.”

Soobin was just impressed that he’d managed not to get any polish on his skin. “That’s fine.” All of his nails were purple and shimmery. “Now what?”

“Now we wait for it to dry and then we do it again.”

He frowned. “If you’re taking it off after, why do it twice?”

Yeonjun gave him a stubborn look. “I want to. I’m not half-assing your nail job.”

“Would now be a bad time to tell you that you’re sexy?”

A little smile made its way onto Yeonjun’s lips. “It’s never a bad time to tell me I’m sexy.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Say it again.”

“You’re so fucking sexy.”

It was true. It wasn’t just the fact that Yeonjun sat on the floor wearing nothing but sweatpants, his smooth, sculpted chest and arms completely bare. His face was void of any makeup, and his hair hung in damp flat strands, and he kept pushing it away from his forehead to see better. Without makeup on, Soobin could see the indents in his bottom lip from him biting it over and over, and the little mole right beneath his right eye. It was his confidence, his cocky smirk as he painted, and the tiny ‘o’ shape his mouth made when he thought he’d messed up, as if shocked that such a thing could happen. And then he’d laugh and brush it off, and Soobin just thought he was beautiful.

“Blow on them,” Yeonjun instructed, lifting Soobin’s right hand to his lips. He went cross-eyed for a second trying to look at it, and he laughed again. He watched with a fond expression as Soobin puckered his lips and blew air out over his nails. “You’re so cute.”

Trying not to grow self-conscious, he asked, “Is that your only adjective for me?”

“It’s my favorite. Mostly because it’s true but also because I’m the only one who gets to tell you.”

He supposed Yeonjun had a point. No one else ever called him cute, at least, not in a long time. Sometimes women he dated would try and he would be unreceptive. His family did when he was much younger, but that was years ago now. Yeonjun was the only person who called him cute and stuck with it, even against Soobin’s initial wishes. He wondered if that was really how Yeonjun saw him. He didn’t dislike the idea so much as it felt alien to him.

“I have a feeling I can guess your favorite adjective for me,” Yeonjun hummed.

“Oh, really? What would your guess be?”

“Sexy.”

“As much as that’s true, and you are sexy,” he agreed, “it’s not my favorite word for you.”

Looking mildly surprised, Yeonjun tilted his head. “Really? What is it then?”

“Beautiful,” he answered simply, then lifted his other hand to blow on his nails again. “How long do these take to dry?”

“Too long,” Yeonjun sounded frustrated as he said it. “How dare you make me horny while I’m trying to paint your nails?”

Soobin laughed. “You are the only person I know who gets turned on from basic compliments.”

“I like compliments,” Yeonjun objected. “That’s not weird.”

“No, it’s not,” he agreed. “But there have been times where I’ve said something like, ‘That’s a nice shirt,’ and you’ve responded with, ‘Please fuck me.’ That’s not normal.”

“You said ‘fuck me’ and my dick twitched.”

Soobin found himself laughing again, although he had to remind him, “I’m not into that unfortunately.”

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow. “Have you ever even tried it?”

“No, and I don’t plan on it.”

“You said that about dating me, too.”

“This is different. I was lying then. But I have no desire to put something up my ass. It’s just not appealing to me.”

“Not even a finger?”

Soobin gave him a look. “No, not even a finger.”

Yeonjun shrugged. “It feels good. And you have nice fingers. I would know.”

“As much as I believe you, I’m still not interested.” Then, a thought occurred to him, and he said, “I didn’t realize this was something you thought about.”

“I think I might be verse,” Yeonjun remarked. “But I haven’t really gotten to experiment, so I don’t know for sure.”

The term was unfamiliar.

“As in?”

“Both top and bottom.”

“Ah.” And because he got the feeling that Yeonjun wanted more discussion on the subject, he commented, “I’m sorry if I’m holding you back from something.”

“Please, you’re so dramatic,” Yeonjun teased, rolling his eyes. “It’s nothing like that. It’s more like a curiosity than anything else. Not necessary, though. I’m perfectly satisfied.”

He wondered if that was true, or if Yeonjun just said so to make him feel better.

“Second coat time,” Yeonjun prompted after lightly pressing the pad of his thumb to the tops of Soobin’s nails. “Hold still.”

“It’s cold,” he complained.

“You’re a big baby.”

Shocked that Yeonjun would say something like that, he hurriedly protested, “I am not.”

“Yes, you are.” He didn’t even look up as he said it, calmly focusing on Soobin’s hand in his own. “You even throw tantrums when things don’t go your way.”

Miffed, Soobin asked, “When have I ever thrown a tantrum?”

“All the time. When I was thinking about going away for school, when I wanted to start modeling, even the other week with Kai.”

He frowned. He didn’t really consider the presented scenarios as tantrums. All he wanted was the best for Yeonjun, but maybe he didn’t see it that way. And it was a bit hypocritical, all things considered.

“You do the same thing,” he pointed out.

“I know,” Yeonjun hummed. “We’re both big babies. Narcissists are compatible, you know.” Then, before Soobin could even begin to process the fact that Yeonjun had just inadvertently called him a narcissist, he made a soft oohing sound. “Hyung, look at the color. That second coat worked like magic.”

Momentarily distracted, Soobin glanced down at his own hands and indeed, the purple really came through now, rich and deep, iridescent like the inside of a seashell. “It’s very pretty,” he admitted, wiggling his fingers a bit.

“Blow,” Yeonjun instructed again, and again he listened.

“So, what’s this whole thing about Beomgyu’s show?” Soobin asked while they waited for the second coat to dry, attempting to make light, easy conversation. They struggled with that sometimes.

“Oh, yeah, it’s gonna be huge,” Yeonjun said excitedly. “It’s his new band’s biggest gig since they formed at the start of the year. They’re opening for a pretty famous rock band.”

Soobin knew very little about Beomgyu outside of his in-class behavior, but it did sound like a good opportunity for him. He was extremely musically inclined, and mentioned to him that several of his creative writing pieces throughout the semester were inspired from lyrics he had written. Soobin knew he played guitar and electric bass during his high school days, and from Yeonjun, he also knew he went to school to study song-writing, producing, and composition. Despite his jokester personality, he took his passion very seriously and worked hard to stay in Seoul. This event probably meant a lot to him.

“That’s great,” he replied genuinely. “I take it you’re going.”

“Yeah, next Friday. We’ll probably hang out before, and I’ll help him get ready. And then Taehyun and I will watch the show together.”

That was one minor issue for Soobin, but he knew it wasn’t really any of his business, so he didn’t comment.

“Is Kai going?”

Yeonjun pursed his lips. “I don’t know, actually. Beomgyu invited him. He and Taehyun haven’t really warmed up to each other yet, though, which is weird, because I thought they would hit it off. They like a lot of the same stuff. Their personalities just clash a bit, I guess.”

Soobin had his own idea of why they weren’t getting along perfectly, but once again, he felt it wasn’t his place to comment. Yeonjun wouldn’t appreciate what he had to say.

Instead, he tried to sympathize. “I’m sorry to hear that. Hopefully they’ll come around.”

Yeonjun nodded. “I hope so too. More for Beomgyu than anything else, honestly. This gig is really important to him, and he’s always less nervous when he knows his friends are in the crowd. Him and Kai have gotten pretty close recently, so it would suck to not have him there.”

The friend circles of twenty-year-olds were always a mess. Apparently that went double when the friends in question were all interested in their own gender and ran the risk of falling in love with each other. It wasn’t an experience Soobin had growing up, but he could imagine the headaches.

“I’m glad to hear that, at least. I know you wanted them to be friends.”

Yeonjun hummed, and then turned his focus completely to Soobin’s nails as he began using a little metal tool to make dots with the yellow and light blue polish.

“Done,” he concluded after a few minutes of drying, capping all three bottles, and Soobin examined his nails with intrigue.

Even he had to admit, they turned out beautifully, each one looking like its own contained nebula. Night skies had been painted on every single one of his nails, unique and surprisingly detailed. Somehow, Yeonjun had even managed to draw out the edges of some of the dots, turning them into pointed stars.

“That’s really quite impressive,” he said, extending his hands out in front of him. “Very artistic.”

“Do you like them?”

Yeonjun always wanted direct validation. Ambiguous comments were no good.

“I love them, I think you did a wonderful job.”

He smiled, a soft and shy expression that he no longer wore around Soobin all that often. “Thanks. Can I take a picture really quick?”

“Sure,” he agreed, and held his hands still while Yeonjun snapped a picture with his phone.

“Cool.” But when Yeonjun glanced up, his expression had turned mildly melancholy. “Um, one sec, I’ll go get the nail polish remover,” he said as he got to his feet.

Soobin pressed his lips together, taking a brief moment to weigh the choice in front of him. Ultimately, he decided that Yeonjun’s happiness was more important than any reservations he had about wearing nail polish for a little while.

“I think it would be a shame to wipe it off so fast, don’t you?”

Yeonjun paused, turning to look at him with a curious frown on his face. “I thought that was the deal. I could paint them if I made sure to take it off after.”

“You worked hard on it, though. And I really do think they’re beautiful.”

“Oh.” Strangely enough, Yeonjun seemed to struggle in his attempts to form a response. He just stood there kind of frozen. “O-okay. Um, cool. I’ll leave them, then. Just let me know when you want the polish removed.”

“Come sit back down,” Soobin said softly, and watched Yeonjun as he walked back over to their spot on the floor. Once he sat, Soobin very carefully cleared away all the baskets and patted his thigh. Wordlessly, Yeonjun got the hint, laying his head in the spot Soobin indicated and sighing quietly. “Am I allowed to use my hands?”

“If you’re careful,” Yeonjun murmured into his leg. “They should be dry.” His weight felt soft and warm, and Soobin rubbed his thumb back and forth over Yeonjun’s cheek. “Thanks for letting me paint your nails, hyung.”

“Thanks for putting up with my dumb questions,” he replied lightly, and felt Yeonjun smile. He gently clutched Soobin’s inner thigh.

“None of your questions were dumb. But…”

“But what?”

“But I think yellow is my new favorite color, actually.”

Soobin smiled too. “I think yellow is a good choice.”

“I think it might be my favorite for a while.”

“What happens, then, if I start liking blue?”

If Soobin were being honest, he started liking blue a long time ago.

“Blue is a good choice, too,” Yeonjun mumbled, sounding quiet and small. “They’re complimentary, you know.”

“Mhm,” he agreed. “Indeed they are.”

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

There was something special about Soobin, Yeonjun had decided a long time ago. Nothing outwardly striking or obvious, but something intrinsic that made him different from anyone else Yeonjun had ever met.

His presence soothed him. Just being around Soobin helped put him in a better state of mind, because he knew he could tell Soobin anything, and he would listen. He would listen quietly, without saying anything at all, and he would wait for Yeonjun to finish talking before he gave any of his own input. Even then, he would speak softly and carefully, and it made Yeonjun feel fragile but invaluable. As if he was something Soobin couldn’t afford to break.

Most of the time, Yeonjun liked watching Soobin in quiet moments. When darkness fell over the night like a blanket and wrapped them in their own world. Soobin often sat on the sofa with a book in hand, glasses perched on his nose, and a little dimpled frown on his face. Yeonjun would make him a cup of chamomile tea, and they would sit together in silence. Typically, he sketched designs for his classes, but he also just liked to look at Soobin when he wasn’t aware of it. He was such a contradiction of a man. His long legs were always primly crossed, and he balanced his book in one large, veined hand. The expression on his face was demure and introspective, and he had the demeanor of a gentle deer. And it was as if Soobin had no awareness of his own broadness, or just how much his presence filled a room. He always sat with his shoulders hunched, such a hypocrite in the way he lectured Yeonjun on fixing his posture.

Yeonjun sketched him, too, from time to time, but he doubted Soobin knew.

In the strangest way, the silence made him feel loved. Someone enjoyed his presence enough to want him around even when they weren’t saying anything. There was a sanctity in that, something he’s never felt before.

His parents used to kick him out of rooms all the time. "I’m working," his father would say brusquely if Yeonjun ever entered his space, even when he was a kid, and so he would just turn around and leave, looking for somewhere that he wouldn’t bother anyone.

Yeonjun remembered what he used to look like, too, the few times his father let him linger. His hair was always slicked back and he wore a crisp suit that his mother would iron for him every single morning. He had a big chair, but rarely sat in it, frequently pacing behind his desk while he talked on the phone to important people who Yeonjun knew the names of but would never meet. At night, he smoked cigars, always the same foreign brand that he liked, and Yeonjun still sometimes missed the smell of it.

When he was really young, his dad would let him sit across his desk in the evenings to do homework while he wrapped up whatever his paperwork was for the day. He smoked and spoke in short quiet words. He would let Yeonjun ask him questions, and sometimes he’d even answer. Those were maybe the best memories Yeonjun had of him.

Quietly, Yeonjun stood from where he sat at the dining table and padded over to where Soobin was reading his book.

Soobin glanced up. His soft doe eyes looked big and beautiful behind his glasses.

"Hi," Yeonjun murmured, and Soobin set his book aside, opening his arms for Yeonjun to settle into them.

Big, and soft, and warm. Older and wiser than him. He really did feel like safety, and Yeonjun sank into his embrace gladly, making himself as small as possible to curl up on his lap. He was too big for it. They both knew that, but still, Soobin indulged him. He ran a gentle hand through his hair and picked up his book once more.

"I love you," Yeonjun whispered, the way he did from time to time, and Soobin pretended not to hear him. That was okay. He expected nothing more.

Several nights passed like that, well into the end of his winter break.

Yeonjun knew he had a habit of making himself smaller in Soobin’s presence. And he knew Soobin didn’t like it so much as he tolerated it for his sake. It was a minor thing. But probably drew his curiosity. Yeonjun would place himself in Soobin’s arms or on the floor to do his assignments for university, or to sketch designs that he would eventually sew, even when it made no logical sense. After all, it’s not like he had anything to gain from sitting on the carpet in front of the sofa with his head resting in Soobin’s lap. It would make more sense to sit beside him. But he liked laying his arms on Soobin’s knees. His dress pants were soft, his sweatpants on weekends even softer, and he liked the way Soobin would stroke his hair if it was convenient.

Sometimes Soobin would give him a pitying look and coax him up off the floor with his big hands, and Yeonjun liked that too. Maybe he just wanted attention. It was harder to tell these days. But he always felt better when Soobin gave it to him.

“Yeonjun-ah, don’t lay on the floor like that,” he would murmur, half reprimanding, half sympathetic. “It’s not good for you.” And when Yeonjun would stubbornly stay put, Soobin’s hands would find his waist, and he’d be pulled up onto the couch, gathered gently into Soobin’s arms. He would hook his chin over Yeonjun’s shoulder and keep reading, and for some reason, that made him feel loved too.

He liked that he belonged somewhere. With someone.

Soobin did nice things for him without ever seeming to realize it. Because Soobin woke up first, Yeonjun would always find his life magically in order once he rolled out of bed for his noon class. Soobin started the coffee pot in the morning even though he didn’t drink any himself. If Yeonjun left dishes out the night before, he’d clean them without saying a word. His textbooks and notepads were always neatly packed away in his bag for him to just grab and head out the door.

They were little things, but again, they made him feel loved.

He didn’t like big things. Grand gestures of affection made him anxious more than anything, and left him wondering how to repay them. But all of the little things Soobin did for him added up in ways he felt like he could return.

He tried to give that same care back as best as he could. It didn’t come to him naturally, and it took him a while to become accustomed to the idea of considering someone else’s needs before his own. Slowly, however, he started to get the hang of it.

He cooked often, and tried to pack Soobin lunches every night for him to take to work the next morning. The academy had fine food, but Soobin always said his cooking was better, and so it was something he tried hard at.

It ruined a part of him, though. Maybe permanently. So much food, all of it nauseating to him. All he could do was look at it before packing it in the fridge or putting it out for Soobin to snack on, only ever tasting it when he couldn’t escape the confines of a shared meal. It came up quickly after. He couldn’t keep anything so heavy down nowadays even if he wanted to. He subsisted on coffee, rice, and the essential fruits and vegetables, and that was fine. It did the trick. It kept him walking around, and that’s all that mattered. Soobin didn’t ask questions anymore. It scared Yeonjun when he did because he really didn’t know how to answer.

When he got home first, he cleaned their apartment thoroughly, taking that brief moment in time to just listen to music and get lost in the mundane kinesthetic therapy of it. Soobin functioned just fine, but his idea of clean left a bit to be desired, and Yeonjun couldn’t have left it alone even if he tried. Maybe it was because he grew up in a house that he was used to having professionally cleaned.

Soobin always seemed impressed by his efforts, too, and so it became another thing he took pride in.

He liked when Soobin was happy. And he seemed so much happier these days. He came home smiling, and he went to bed just the same way.

He didn’t always wake up smiling, often sporting a cute irritated frown directed towards his alarm. Sometimes Yeonjun would cling to him and force him to stay in bed a while longer. Soobin would complain, but it wasn’t genuine. He wanted to stay. He wanted to be with him. And that was all he needed.

Things like that would have been enough for Yeonjun. They were. But Soobin had a big heart, and his bigger acts of kindness made him fall even more deeply in love with him.

Sometimes they were unexpected little things. Once Soobin came home with a potted white and purple orchid, beautiful and just entering bloom, and said he had a coworker who grew them from bulb and he’d asked her to start one for him. Yeonjun had once mentioned that he didn’t like dead flowers and felt bad when he had to throw out bouquets, more in passing than anything, yet he somehow remembered such a minute thing about him and managed to do something beautiful with it.

They found a windowsill that didn’t get too much direct sun, and the orchid took a liking to the spot. They took turns watering, Soobin in the morning and him in the evening, and it bloomed magnificently. The blossoms were elegant and proud, and Yeonjun loved them because he saw Soobin in each one. It was a little thing, but it was theirs, and he loved it.

He loved Soobin. More than anything, really, more than he could ever put into words. He loved the way Soobin’s dimples popped out whenever he felt an emotion strongly, loved the way his laughter took over his whole body, loved how beautiful he looked when he wasn’t doing anything at all. When he would just sit, his eyes wide and sparkling, always that faintly intrigued look on his face like he was deep in thought about nothing and everything.

He looked like that when Yeonjun cut his hair for him. It was just something they’d started doing out of convenience, really. Soobin’s hair grew quickly and wildly, and Yeonjun knew how to use a pair of scissors as he studied more and more about cosmetology in his free time.

It was a nice, domestic thing. They would bring a chair into the bathroom where Yeonjun would sit Soobin down, and Soobin would watch their reflections with a calm curiosity, occasionally asking questions in that soft murmur of his that Yeonjun took so much comfort in.

The last time Yeonjun cut his hair, Soobin’s eyes had fallen shut. “Are you falling asleep?” Yeonjun asked teasingly, stalling his movement with the comb for a moment.

Soobin gave the slightest shake of his head, but his eyes stayed closed. “Your hands feel nice.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun smiled to himself and gently continued bringing the wet comb through his hair and following it with his fingers. The only other sound in the room was the quiet snip of the scissors as Yeonjun trimmed his split ends.

Simple, pleasant moments like that with Soobin felt like the calm at the center of a swirling storm. Everything else in his life consisted of chaos, always with the up and down of never knowing quite what his tomorrow would look like. Outside of their little bubble, sometimes his place in the world felt terrifying and uncertain. He had no idea where he belonged in it, constantly propelled towards whatever excited him the most.

But when he got home, he knew exactly what he would find. And exactly what he had. He had Soobin, who may not love him the way Yeonjun wanted, but who cared about him enough to keep him and to let him in on his small moments of certain happiness. He couldn’t really ask for anything else. And although the feeling always lingered that he was missing something, missing out on something, for the most part, Yeonjun could shove it aside. He was happy. As much as he could be.

When Soobin said he was going back home for the last week of his own break, Yeonjun didn’t know how to feel. Of course he was happy for him. It would probably be nice to see his family. He deserved some time to himself, away from it all.

But he had a strange lingering resentment about the whole thing as well. They had just moved into their new apartment barely three weeks ago and he was already leaving? Going somewhere without him, no less, just wanting him to stay behind in an empty apartment that hadn’t even started to feel like home yet.

Rationally, he knew he was upset over nothing. And it wasn’t like going with Soobin was an option. He would go home- smile at his family, make small talk with his mother, and pretend to be straight for seven days. She would be utterly convinced and try to set him up with yet another “nice girl” who happened to be the daughter of her friend’s sister or something, just like she did every couple of months as Yeonjun had witnessed plenty of times by now through overheard phone conversations.

Yeonjun didn’t have anything against Soobin’s mother. He didn’t even know her. But a part of him resented her as well, just for the fact that she unknowingly tried to ruin everything he had. Once again, it felt…uncertain. Like there was this chance that Soobin would go back home and just…give in. He would meet the nice girl his mother introduced him to, and they would have a decent enough time, and he would think about just how much easier it would all be if he…

He felt sick just thinking about it.

And he knew he was wrong to be upset, but he felt like he needed someone to tell him to get his head out of his ass and grow up. Usually, that would be Soobin’s job. But he couldn’t tell Soobin.

He had the apartment to himself at the moment. His only class for the day had been canceled and Soobin had gone to the academy to do some prep work for the new semester. He wondered just how many pretty boys would be in his new class, and whether Soobin would be sad to see any of them go come graduation.

If Yeonjun wasn’t so stubborn, Soobin would have been fine to let him go at the end of the year, too. He only kept him because Yeonjun made himself irreplaceable. Soobin thought he needed him. Sometimes, Yeonjun tried to make it seem like no one else would love Soobin if he didn’t. It wasn’t something he did to be cruel, and it certainly wasn’t true, but he hated feeling like Soobin could just…replace him if he found someone knew.

The truth was, Soobin probably would have fallen in love ten times over by now if he would only let himself love someone else. Another guy, smarter and more beautiful than him. But Soobin barely had the strength to let Yeonjun in, let alone someone new.

But if that someone was a girl, one his parents liked and one that would secure his future, well, then love didn’t really matter at all. And Yeonjun would be completely out of the running.

With a sigh, he rolled over onto his stomach and called the only person he knew that wouldn’t just tell him to break up with Soobin. Taehyun would. Beomgyu already had. He only had one friend that really got it.

“Hey.” Kai’s voice was soft. He always sounded like he was smiling.

“Hi. Are you busy?”

He heard the extremely familiar sounds of Animal Crossing voices, and then it sounded like Kai shifted, maybe setting his Switch down. “Nope. What’s up?”

“Are you playing that game with the animals?” He pretended not to know what it was. He didn’t really know why, though.

“Yeah. I just got a new villager on my island. Muffy. She’s cute.”

“Kai, I thought we talked about the whole furry thing-”

“It’s not like that!” Kai protested, and Yeonjun laughed, liking how easy it was to get him all worked up. “I told you, it’s wholesome. It’s a wholesome game. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“What kind of animal is she?”

“...A sheep. She’s purple. She’s like…kinda goth. She has a scarf and earmuffs. It’s a pun…”

“Furry.”

“How is that a furry thing?”

“I asked you what animal she was and you told me what she was wearing, you degenerate. Plus, you’re into goth girls. You think Park Eunji’s hot.”

The girl in the room directly across the hall from the one they shared was definitely goth, and maybe-definitely held seances in her room every third Friday. They could smell the incense.

“I didn’t say it like that,” Kai muttered. “I said she’s pretty and I like her outfits.”

“Her outfits are short plaid skirts and tight leather corsets. You think she’s hot.”

“Maybe I want her clothes.”

Yeonjun pursed his lips, considering it. “You’d look good in plaid,” he agreed. “Although the leather corset might be a bit much for your coding class.”

“I don’t know, I think I could pull it off.”

“Yeah? Let me style you sometime, then.”

“Uh, maybe not…” All of a sudden, he sounded much less confident.

Pouting, Yeonjun asked, “What, do you think I couldn’t do it? It’s my major. It would be fun.”

“I think I’d look too sexy. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” Kai sounded dead serious, and that made him laugh.

“That’s the point, Huening. You’re supposed to look in the mirror and want to take yourself home.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever thought that a day in my life.”

“Oh my god.” This revelation was honestly concerning. “Emergency styling session now, let me text you my new address.”

“Wait, but I’m doing homework-”

“Huening, you only live once.”

A pause, and then he sighed. “I’ll be there in twenty. See you.”

Pleased, Yeonjun smiled. “Bye.”

As he texted Kai his address, he knew it had the potential to be awkward. After all, as both Soobin and Beomgyu had adamantly insisted, Kai apparently had a crush on him. Beomgyu was even less subtle about it than Soobin, sending a very relieved Oh thank god you finally see it when he first texted, and then proceeded to ask when he would break up with his current boyfriend and give Kai a shot instead. That irritated him more than Soobin’s superior attitude about the whole thing, and he felt bad for taking it out on him when it happened, but Beomgyu wasn’t around to lecture. He should have apologized. He knew that, but before he had a chance to stop sulking, Soobin had already taken it upon himself to be the bigger person. Yeonjun really didn’t deserve him. Every time they got in a fight, it was always Soobin who caved and apologized, even when they both knew Yeonjun was the one in the wrong. He couldn’t explain why he was incapable of admitting his own faults. He just knew that if he backed down, it would make him look weak, and Soobin already thought he was so fragile. He didn’t need to give Soobin anymore proof that he was incapable of taking care of himself. Complaining about being left alone for a week would only cement this idea that he would break without him.

He sighed and simply stared at the ceiling for a moment. His stomach growled.

“Shut up,” he muttered, not interested in dealing with his body’s attitude.

His stomach really didn’t give a damn, and whined some more. With a huff, he rolled over so he wasn’t on his back anymore and propped himself up on his elbows, pulling his phone out again. He checked his calendar, and once he confirmed that he didn’t have any photoshoots coming up for the next week, he started to weigh the options of what he could and could not afford to eat.

Meat would do him some good. He was starting to perform badly at the gym due to the lack of protein in his system. But meat involved a fair amount of grease and fat, neither of which would do him any favors. Rice and noodles were just empty carbs. Good enough to keep him running, but not really justifiable when he wasn’t burning calories.

Steamed vegetables were probably his best bet. He tried to reason with himself that he needed it, that if he didn’t eat anything, he would be irritable and moody the whole time Kai was over, and that would ruin their day. He employed the same tactic often, trying to trick his mind into believing he was really doing a good thing when they both knew he would feel horrible about it later. Mostly, he did it on days when he knew Soobin was paying attention. He needed Soobin to see that everything was fine. It was fine, really.

He ate when he had to, just as much as he needed to. That was the point of a diet.

Kai showed up fifteen minutes later than promised, which was fine enough because it gave him time to eat but not enough time to throw it back up, and he looked different than Yeonjun had grown used to from sharing a dorm with him. It seemed like he was freshly showered and his hair had a curly, messy look to it that suited him. And he wasn’t wearing a hoodie, either, instead wearing a black denim jacket and a gray band t-shirt with dark jeans.

“I can’t believe you dressed up for the one time I decided to style you,” he complained, holding the door open.

“I literally just put on clothes,” Kai protested, but stepped inside.

“You put on nice clothes. It’s okay, though. I’ll do something different. Besides, it’s reassuring to know you’re capable of dressing yourself without me.”

Kai laughed. “Every once in a while.”

Yeonjun led the way down the hall, heading for his bedroom. Kai was curious, though, and poked his head around corners, trying to see as much of the apartment as he could. “I can give you a tour if you want. I didn’t think you’d be all that interested.”

“It’s a nice place,” he remarked. “Is your boyfriend home?”

Is that what he was looking so keenly for?

“No, he’s at work.”

Kai nodded. “Cool.”

Maybe he didn’t want to run into Soobin after the conversation the two of them apparently had without him.

“He was nice when you met, right?” Yeonjun tried to phrase it lightly, like it wasn’t really a serious question.

“Uh, he was fine. I mean, he was kinda…aloof? I don’t know, I got the sense that he wasn’t really interested in talking to me. Which was fine, but like, he was in our dorm so it’s not like I could go anywhere else…”

Yeonjun held the door open to their room as he admitted, “He’s not really interested in talking to anyone, I wouldn’t take it personally. It’s not that he’s intentionally cold or anything,” he tried to explain. “He’s just not…super social.”

Kai nodded, following him in. “Yeah, I got that vibe. Like I said, he wasn’t mean. He seems like a nice guy. But um…he was different from what I’d pictured.”

He thought that might be coming. “Different how?”

Kai hesitated. “Taller?”

While he sort of believed that, he also knew it wasn’t exactly what Kai was trying to get at.

“And?”

After another few seconds, Kai confessed, “Older, maybe?”

Yeonjun didn’t want to get defensive over it. He shrugged. “Yeah? What were you expecting?”

Kai bit his lip, giving Yeonjun a look that very much revealed he didn’t want to say anything offensive. “I thought he would be a guy in your agency or something. Another model, or maybe a fashion major.”

Yeonjun sighed, turning to open the closet and act like none of it bothered him. “People in the fashion industry are pretentious. I wouldn’t date another model.”

“You’re in the fashion industry.”

“And I’m no better. It’s nice enough for someone else to put up with me.”

“No one’s ‘putting up with you,’” Kai replied with a sigh to match his own. They had had this conversation before. “And I guarantee he doesn’t see it that way, either.”

“Maybe,” Yeonjun agreed, more to end the conversation than anything else. He didn’t want to reopen the topic of Soobin’s age in relation to his own.

It was always what everyone noticed first about him. And while Yeonjun understood that it was inevitable, a part of him wished his friends could see how kind and understanding Soobin was, and how good he was to him. But his friends would never be able to see that because Soobin would never let them. Obviously, he understood that, on a fundamental level, it was weird. Taehyun and Beomgyu were past students of his, as well, so it would be strange to hang out with them in a social setting. And Soobin refused to like Kai because he thought Kai had a crush on him.

But Yeonjun wasn’t interested in making new friends who knew nothing about his past, and Soobin had made no attempts to introduce him to any of his friends due to the fact that he was absolutely unwilling to come out as gay to anyone besides Yeonjun himself, so they were at a bit of a stalemate. Yeonjun couldn’t prove to anyone that Soobin was actually a really amazing boyfriend, but he desperately wanted to just to satisfy his own peace of mind. He needed someone else to validate what he was doing. And whenever that feeling came up, he went to Soobin for the approval he sought, but he couldn’t do that in this situation because the subject of his anxiety was Soobin himself.

God, why did it all have to be so confusing? Why couldn’t he just be content with what he had?

He didn’t used to think this much about everything. He was a very go-with-the-flow type of person, at least he had been his whole life, but over the past year, he started second-guessing every decision he made. He missed not worrying so much.

“Yeonjun,” Kai said softly. “If now’s a bad time-”

“No!” As soon as the word came out, he realized it sounded maybe a little too sharp and desperate, and winced. “Sorry, I just kind of zoned out for a second. I have a lot of stuff, so trying to visualize a good outfit takes a minute.”

Kai took pity on him, being the angel that he was, and just nodded along. “Ah, I see. Okay, um, you can ask me questions if you want? Isn’t that how working with a designer goes?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun agreed, nodding as well. “I already kind of have a sense for what your day-to-day is, though. Is there a direction you’ve always wanted to go in, like a particular style you’ve wanted to try out, but never had the pieces for it?”

Kai contemplated it for a moment, tapping his chin the way an anime character would, and Yeonjun found himself smiling. “Maybe something kind of…edgy?”

Cute. Sweet angel Kai with his Pokemon plushies and anime figurine collection wanted to try an edgy style.

“Edgy? Like Park Eunji and her leather corsets?”

Looking intimidated, Kai backtracked a little. “Maybe not the corsets.”

Yeonjun nodded. While he thought Kai would look exceptionally good in a corset, he knew it was probably a bit much to start him on. “Are you thinking masc? Femme? Somewhere in between?”

Wearing a curious expression, Kai peered deeper into the closet. “What all do you have?”

“Everything,” Yeonjun answered honestly. “Well, okay maybe that’s kind of an exaggeration. But like, if you name something, I guarantee I own a piece that’s almost identical, if not at least in the same realm.”

“So like, if I said a white distressed tank top with fishnet accents-”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, taking a few steps into the walk-in closet until he found the rack he was looking for. Quickly, he plucked a top from it and shoved the hanger Kai’s way. “I’m not an amateur.”

He had his mouth open, genuinely impressed as he grabbed the hanger. “I thought that would be way too specific.”

A soft glow of pride started to seep its way into Yeonjun, warming him up. No one ever took an interest in his hobby. He never really got the chance to show off. Taehyun never outwardly said it, but Yeonjun knew he thought collecting clothes was a waste of money. Beomgyu thought it was cool but only ever asked him for specific pieces when he was playing gigs, and he always forgot to return them. And Soobin just complained about him taking up all the closet space.

“Anything else?” Yeonjun asked, tilting his head.

“Um, maybe something like plaid jeans? Like the cool red ones with studs or something.”

“Form-fitting or loose?” Yeonjun inquired as he made his way to the pants section of the closet.

“Let’s do tight.”

“Good choice with that top,” Yeonjun approved, and brought out the requested item. Once again, Kai wore an expression of mild awe.

“They’ve got the studs,” he noted cutely. Then, he carefully set both the top and pants down on his bed before asking, “Can I take a look?”

“Sure,” he replied, stepping aside so Kai could wander into his closet.

In Yeonjun’s opinion -and he had made this very clear to Soobin upon putting in their application- the closet really was the apartment’s key feature. He didn’t care about the open floor plan, or the balcony, or whatever. He just wanted a really big closet. Like, huge. Fucking massive. And when he expressed this to Soobin, he made that face where he was clearly slightly concerned but also trying his best not to laugh.

To be fair, none of the listings they came across had closets twice as satisfying as those in his old house, even the place they ended up with. His bedroom growing up had two closets, one of which was larger than the spare bedroom in their new place. But, he did his best to keep his standards neutral. That wasn’t the life he was living anymore. He had made it very clear to his mother that he wanted nothing to do with her business, and she took that as an invitation to cut him off completely. Which was fine. It was whatever, honestly, he didn’t care that much. He should have seen it coming, considering every argument they had gotten into over the past three years. Yeah, it had hurt when she told him not to come around asking for stuff from her -which he never did in the first place- but he could get over it.

Soobin had mentioned that it would probably be for the best if he didn’t see his mom all that much anyway because he might let something slip about their relationship. And while normally all of his requests to keep quiet about it pissed Yeonjun off, he understood this one, to an extent. His mom was still in contact with the academy, and Soobin could easily be put on probation and investigated for misconduct if word got back to them.

He didn’t miss his mom. Maybe he missed her cooking, and when she said she loved him without having to think twice about it. But that was it.

Yeonjun tried to convince himself that he was homesick for his big closet and nothing else.

“Woah, you really have everything,” Kai remarked, running his hands along all the hangers. “I’ve never seen you wear half this stuff.”

“There’s not really a good occasion for a lot of it.”

Kai glanced back at him. “Since when has an occasion ever stopped you?”

What an excellent point.

Kai stopped at the back of the room, and Yeonjun felt a jolt of nerves as he realized there was a particular section of clothes he had definitely never worn in public and didn’t plan on it, the section Kai stood right in front of now.

“I don’t wear any of that,” Yeonjun hurriedly said, feeling like he had to clarify before Kai could even ask. “I just like collecting pieces that look cool.”

His heart pounded, and he wanted Kai to just nod and turn around, moving on completely, but he didn’t do that at all.

Undeterred, Kai pulled down a hanger, holding the long black maxi skirt out in front of him as though thoroughly assessing it. A slit ran up the side of the fabric, and Kai’s fingers played with it for a moment. “You could wear them, though,” he said offhand. “You’d look good.”

“I-” He swallowed. “I don’t think the reaction would be great.”

They had been joking about wearing skirts on the phone earlier, but Yeonjun never thought Kai was being serious.

“The reaction from who?” Kai asked as he replaced the hanger on the rack and turned to look at the other skirts and dresses he had collected. Most of them were black and heavily stylized. He liked clothes with character, which explained why he couldn’t turn them down when he saw them hanging in thrift stores and consignment shops.

“Um, most people.”

“Your boyfriend?”

Yeonjun felt his stomach drop as he tried to visualize the sort of response Soobin would have if he came home to him wearing a skirt. He hadn’t been lying. He really didn’t ever wear them, but he thought they were cool, and if he was braver, he would probably experiment with them. But he wasn’t. And he knew that Soobin would look at him differently if he ever tried. That would definitely count as too queer for him. Things like that scared Soobin away. Soobin didn’t even know he owned skirts and dresses. He never looked that closely.

Still, he wanted to persuade Kai to like Soobin. So he lied. “I doubt he would mind that much. It’s more about everyone else.”

“But it’s actually something you want to try?”

He glanced at Kai, and realized he was looking at him more intently than he thought. And he felt like he could answer honestly. “Maybe a little bit. Not today, though.” Then, he motioned with his hand. “C’mon, let’s look at shoes.” However, he frowned in dismay when he looked at Kai’s feet and realized they had a problem. “I think you wear bigger shoes than me.”

“Probably. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I’m actually bigger than you in general.”

Yeonjun shot him a dismayed look. “Don’t say that.”

Kai wore a smug smile as he asked, “Why not? It’s true.”

“You just…” Even as he started to explain, Kai drew closer to him, and Yeonjun belatedly became aware of the fact that his forehead only reached Kai’s nose. It’s not that he hadn’t noticed Kai was tall before. It was just…Kai had the energy of someone shorter than him. So somehow Yeonjun had deceived himself into believing that was actually a fact. “You’re too cute to be almost two meters tall.”

“Really?” Kai still sounded amused.

And all of a sudden, it hit Yeonjun that if he found himself in this situation while he was single, he might expect their conversation to go in a very different direction. So he hastily pulled away, instead leaning down to rifle through the boxes of shoes he had yet to put away. “These might fit you,” he said quickly, in a rush to pull out a pair of slimming black boots. “They’re too big for me.”

“Oh, cool.” Kai seemed perfectly at ease as he took the shoes from Yeonjun, and after confirming that they did indeed fit, he carried them out of the closet to put with the rest of his outfit. “Do we need anything else?”

“Uh, yeah, give me a second to find you a jacket. I have one in mind, I just can’t remember where I hung it up.”

“Sure.”

Kai disappeared back out into his bedroom, and Yeonjun shut his eyes for a second. He didn’t like Kai like that. And he would explain that to him, except he was terrified of making things awkward between them.

And honestly, Yeonjun didn’t think of Kai as the type of person to try to wedge himself into his relationship. So maybe he was the one reading too much into everything.

After a minute or two of searching, he couldn’t find the coat he was looking for, and he had to admit defeat, asking instead to borrow the denim jacket Kai was wearing now. It went well enough. Not as well as the leather jacket Yeonjun had previously envisioned, but it was sufficient. He wondered if his stylists sometimes felt the same sense of mild disappointment when they had to cut a piece from his outfit. There was something unfulfilling about not being able to complete a look quite the way he had imagined.

“Can I do your makeup, too?” Yeonjun asked, and Kai nodded enthusiastically.

They talked about classes after that. Mundane, but entertaining enough. Kai had the stats professor from hell, so they joked about him for a while, and then found themselves on the topic of Beomgyu’s current boyfriend since they shared that class.

“Don’t you think he’s kind of weird?” Yeonjun gossiped as he swatched shades on Kai’s forearm to find his foundation match.

“He doesn’t talk much,” Kai agreed.

“What do you think he and Beomgyu even have in common?”

“I’m pretty sure he’s a sound engineer. So music, I guess?”

Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Beomgyu doesn’t date a guy just because he’s into music. There has to be something else.” Finally, he found a slightly lighter beige than his own color that seemed to do the trick. “Close your eyes.”

Kai shut his eyes, but continued to talk out of the corner of his mouth as Yeonjun started applying foundation. “He’s decently attractive.”

“Not Beomgyu level of attractive.”

“He already thinks he’s the best looking person around, rationally he knows he’s settling.”

“He is settling,” Yeonjun insisted, using a damp sponge to blend. “Do you think the sex is really that good?”

Kai shrugged. “Obviously he likes him for some reason. But from what I heard, they haven’t had sex yet.”

“Did Beomgyu tell you that?” Yeonjun held out Kai’s arm again to compare concealers, and he complied, even though his arm was quickly turning into a work of abstract art.

“Yeah, we got lunch together the other day. He said they were taking it slow.”

“He’s gone through six guys in three months.”

Kai made a pained expression, but shrugged again. “He seems like he’s doing fine.”

“At least he got his guitar,” Yeonjun joked as he lightly covered Kai’s dark circles. He left his moles untouched, though. He liked them too much to cover.

“It is a really sick guitar,” Kai agreed. “And he got it half off.”

“Oh, Choi Beomgyu,” Yeonjun sighed to himself. “What a player you are.”

He always thought it was kind of funny, the huge one-eighty Beomgyu took between high school and university. Back when they went to the academy together, Beomgyu didn’t date anyone, not even guys he was obviously really into, and who were clearly into him. Yeonjun knew he most likely didn’t want to draw extra attention to himself. He was already getting bullied for being a scholarship kid, and being friends with one of the few openly gay students didn’t help. People called him slurs even though he’d never even gone on a date with another guy, and Yeonjun felt partially responsible. He didn’t deserve it, but he certainly endured it, and his life would have been a lot easier if he stopped hanging out with Yeonjun altogether.

But once they entered university, Beomgyu found the courage to start exploring. And by exploring, Yeonjun meant going out with every single guy that caught his eye. Personally, he didn’t think it was all that healthy. Beomgyu rarely ever actually liked the guys once he started getting to know them. But he knew he had no room to voice his opinion considering he was the one in a steady relationship with their old homeroom teacher.

“Woah.” Kai glanced around him to examine his face in the mirror. His eyes were wide and bright. “My skin is like glass, that’s so cool.”

“Have you never done your makeup before?”

“No, I’ve never really tried.”

“You don’t really need to,” Yeonjun admitted, setting down his bottle of concealer. He held Kai’s chin gently as he set his face with powder. “You’ve got nice skin and pretty eyes. Even your lashes are long, it’s honestly not fair. But doing it is still fun sometimes.”

Makeup for Yeonjun felt like a therapeutic expression of art. He went into a state where he felt wholly focused on the task at hand, which was something he only ever experienced while sewing. Too often, he had a dozen thoughts racing around his head, all clamoring for his attention yet somehow just out of reach. He could never catch one and hold onto it longer than a few minutes before it escaped and returned to the swirling mess. But when he sat down to do his makeup, a distinct sense of calm washed over him, and he felt perfectly at ease, sitting still for sometimes over an hour. It was a moment to breathe, where his thoughts were only focused on his own reflection and all the cool sorts of things he could create.

“You look like you’re having fun while you do it,” Kai noted.

Yeonjun smiled. “I am.” He tucked a pesky strand of blond hair behind Kai’s ear. “Close your eyes again.”

Kai did as he was told, and Yeonjun went to work applying a base shadow on his eyes. He was only doing the bare minimum for him, considering his cheekbones and jaw were already sharp, and his brows didn’t require any work. Even though he didn’t need too many touch-ups, Kai made for a pretty canvas, so Yeonjun found himself going silent as he focused on the details of his eye makeup.

He didn’t want to make his eyes too dark; smoky makeup didn’t really suit him. Instead, he used peach and silver, deeping his crease with a soft rose. He decorated the inner corners of his eyes with silver sparkles, and let a few dot under his lash line.

Kai held still the entire time, but he wore the faintest smile on his lips, like he didn’t mind spending his afternoon in front of Yeonjun’s mirror, being dressed up just for fun. It was the sort of kindness that went unspoken, but one Yeonjun appreciated nonetheless. He didn’t have to be here. He could be back in their dorm -his dorm, he corrected himself- studying for the upcoming semester. But he chose to be here instead.

Even though they weren’t really talking about anything of consequence, Yeonjun couldn’t explain how much it meant to him just to have someone sit and listen while he talked about the things he loved.

He knew Soobin would if he asked. But he was terrified of asking Soobin. What if Soobin thought less of him once he saw Yeonjun actively engaging in things that weren’t traditionally masculine? Knowing and witnessing were two different things, and Soobin rarely ever saw him with a brush in hand. And he never commented on the things Yeonjun wore, or the way he did his makeup. Did he just not notice? Or was he deliberately choosing not to comment?

Yeonjun had tested out his reaction when he asked Soobin if he could paint his nails. And while he was kind about it and indulgent, Yeonjun got the sense that it made him nervous. It wasn’t something he would let Yeonjun do regularly. He didn’t think it was normal, but he was kind enough to pretend for his sake. He even kept the polish on for three days. And Yeonjun had to give him credit, because in that moment, laying on the floor with Soobin, his head in his lap, he really did think for just a few fleeting seconds that Soobin loved him.

But Soobin was a good liar, the best he’d ever met, and Yeonjun knew not to trust any of the things he made him feel.

“My boyfriend is going back home for a week,” Yeonjun said suddenly, and Kai blinked his eyes open.

“Oh. You’re not going with him?”

Yeonjun bit his lip, before saying softly, “I’m not invited.”

“Because his family thinks he’s straight?” Kai guessed, wearing a sympathetic expression.

He nodded. “I doubt he would take me even if he was out to them, though. Even if they were accepting. I’m really not the kind of person they would want to be with him, no matter what.”

It was a terrible feeling, knowing that they would both never receive approval from their parents regarding their relationship. There were too many problems. They were men, they had over a decade between them, and he used to be Soobin’s student. His mother would have a heart attack. And his father…well, honestly, his father would be the least surprised. Definitely the most unfazed. Yeonjun doubted he would even care. How ironic.

The age gap wouldn’t even be such a big issue if things had just worked out differently. Yeonjun knew plenty of happy couples who were more years apart than him and Soobin. But it was the timing of it all. The gap between thirty and forty-five seemed minute in comparison to the gap between nineteen and thirty-four.

And Kai knew it, too. Even though he looked sympathetic, there wasn’t a whole lot he could say. “Are you even happy with this guy?”

Yeonjun frowned. He loved Soobin, that wasn’t the problem. “Of course I am. Why do you think I would put up with everything if I wasn’t?”

“I’m just saying, if you know it’s not going to work out, then-”

“That’s not what I’m getting at,” Yeonjun interrupted. “He’s been really wonderful to me, and I’m not planning on us breaking up or anything. I’m just kind of bummed that I’ll never get to meet his family.”

For some reason, Kai didn’t seem willing to let it go that quickly. “So, what, he’s just going to keep you a secret? Forever?”

Yeonjun didn’t like that word. Forever. Anxiety rushed through his veins every time he heard it. There was no such thing. Nothing could exist forever, not even love. He didn’t want to put a timer on what he had with Soobin. The thought of it ending scared him more than anything else. “I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “Maybe.”

“And you’re just supposed to keep him a secret? Even though you’re entering a career that’s like, super public, and people are going to ask about who you’re dating all the time? You realize you won’t be able to bring him to events, or your graduation, or any of it, right?”

He felt his heart begin to race as he envisioned it, having to keep his relationship hidden for the majority of his career just because- and then it hit him. It wouldn’t matter who he was dating, he would have to keep it all quiet, anyway. He was gay. People would look at him differently if he was outspoken about dating men. Being gay and being openly gay were two different things in the fashion industry. It was fine enough if you were homosexual. But you weren’t supposed to talk about it in public.

“That’s my whole life, anyway,” he replied, sounding more bitter and frustrated than he intended.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it sound so bad,” Kai quickly apologized, and Yeonjun sighed.

“You’re not wrong, though. There’s no need to apologize. I’m gonna line the corners of your eyes, hold on.”

Kai closed them on command, and Yeonjun put his whole attention into placing little sharp wings on the edges of his lids, wishing he could just forget their conversation entirely.

But he couldn’t forget. And he knew it wasn’t fair to take his worries out on Kai, but he couldn’t help himself. “Is there something wrong with me?” he murmured.

“No,” Kai replied immediately. So prompt it didn’t feel genuine.

“I’m being serious.” He turned away to cap the eyeliner and replace it to its proper drawer.

“So am I.”

“I think there has to be. Not because I’m gay, but because of…everything. Just the accumulation of it all.”

Kai didn’t know him well enough to understand what he was getting at. Yeonjun should be asking Taehyun. He would get it. And he would reply honestly. But he never saw Taehyun. Even when he tried to reach out to him, he was always busy. And of course, Yeonjun knew law school was demanding, but he made the time to see Beomgyu. He came to his shows. They talked at least every week, and Yeonjun only knew that because Beomgyu told him. But whenever he wanted to hang out with him, Taehyun was suddenly busy.

It had started to hurt a little.

“Yeonjun, there’s nothing wrong with you.” Kai spoke more insistently this time, maybe more firmly than Yeonjun had ever heard him speak in his life.

“Look up for me,” he said, unable to say anything else. He couldn’t agree. He didn’t believe it.

Kai’s eyes were fierce, like he meant to protest, but he caved and focused on the ceiling instead. Very carefully, Yeonjun raised a mascara brush to his lashes, delicately coating them as quickly and precisely as possible. Unlike most people, Kai managed to hold still and not blink, so the result was much more satisfying than Yeonjun expected.

“Perfect. I’m just going to use a tinted balm for your lips really quick…” He talked through it as he did the motions, swiping a nice peachy color over Kai’s lips to make them look soft and moisturized. “There. I’ll spray, and then you should be good.”

Kai nodded and closed his eyes while Yeonjun spritzed his face with setting spray. Then, he just admired his work for a moment. He really had done a good job. Carefully, he removed the blanket he’d draped over Kai so he could see the finished product, outfit and everything.

“I’m extremely talented,” he praised himself, making his way behind Kai so that he could see his own reflection.

And Kai just stared at himself for several seconds, tilting his head to catch all angles of the light, and letting out a little, “Woah.”

“Do you like it?”

Kai glanced at him, revealing a faint panic. “I’m sexy and I don’t know what to do.”

Yeonjun laughed. “That was the whole point, Huening.” He carded his fingers through Kai’s hair, trying to mess it up a bit. It looked better that way. “Next time I’ll give you curls.”

“That would be cool,” Kai agreed. “But this is like…wow. I’m so hot.”

“Would you approach yourself at a club?”

Kai sized up his reflection, then decided, “Yeah.”

“Then I’ve done my job.”

“How much do I owe you?” Kai teased, and Yeonjun ruffled his hair again, happy he gave him a reason to smile.

“Since you’re so cute, it’s on the house this time.”

Kai caught his hand and squeezed it. “Thanks for inviting me over. I was kind of worried you wouldn’t want to be friends anymore.”

Yeonjun frowned. “Why wouldn’t I want to stay friends?”

Wearing a sheepish look, Kai admitted, “I thought you only hung out with me because we lived together.”

He laughed. “I don’t invite people to go everywhere with me just because we room together. I’m not as nice as you think I am.”

Everyone thought he was such a nice person. It wasn’t true. He was a fine person when it mattered, and he knew what people liked to hear, so he told them all of those things and then they considered him a friend. It worked. It kept him popular in his agency, and made him a desirable person to be around in his classes. Pretty, talented Yeonjun with his brand-new modeling career and his straight-A record. What a nice guy. Such a far cry from what he had been known as at the academy.

“You’re plenty nice,” Kai protested, and Yeonjun tried not to pity him.

“Yeah, to you. Because I like you.”

Grinning, Kai replied, “I guess I’m pretty cool, then.”

“You are pretty cool,” he agreed. “Not a lot of people would let an adult man play dress up with them for two hours.”

Kai’s mouth fell open. “It’s not dress up, it’s art!”

“See, that’s what makes you cool.”

“Ah, I get it.” Then, Kai paused, wearing a cute frown as he tilted his head. “Wait, is it raining?”

Yeonjun listened, and after a moment, he heard the telltale pitter-patter of raindrops hitting the slate rooftop. “Huh, I guess it is.” For the first time since Kai had arrived, he checked his phone and realized it was almost six. Soobin would be home soon. “Let me drive you back to campus.”

Kai nodded. “That would be nice. I don’t want to ruin all your hard work.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” he said lightly, and found a tote bag in his closet, packing the clothes Kai wore there in it. “Here. You can keep the outfit. I never wear any of it.”

He liked giving away the things he cared about. It prevented him from getting too attached to anything. Every piece of clothing on Kai’s body had a story behind it.

More optimistically, he supposed, it would give him the chance to hunt for new pieces.

Kai looked taken aback. “I can’t just steal your stuff.”

“I promise, you’re doing me a favor,” he assured him, and after a few seconds of hesitation, Kai slipped the tote bag over his arm, mumbling his thanks. Yeonjun led the way out of his room and towards the front door, collecting his shoes and coat. His keys spun in his fingers.

The sound of the rain soothed him, more than music or soft words. He liked that even the sky had to cry every once in a while. He resolved to cry with it, when he got the chance.

But for now, he smiled and joked with Kai all the way out to the parking garage, and made him promise to let Yeonjun style him again sometime soon. The rain beat against his windshield, painting carnivalesque blurs on a gray canvas with the glare of city lights.

He really did love Seoul, no matter how much he liked to stick up his nose and pretend he was too good for the city. He wasn’t. It was the center of his world, shining lights that illuminate even the puddles in grimy rain-slicked alleys. He knew he would feel lost anywhere else.

───────✧❁✧───────

When Soobin got home, he couldn’t find Yeonjun anywhere. Not in the kitchen, or the living room, or their bedroom. The apartment lay completely silent apart from the soft drumming of rain on the rooftop.

Perplexed, he went to call him when he noticed the balcony door sat slightly ajar. The glass felt cool against his fingertips, and when he pushed it aside, he finally found Yeonjun standing in front of the ledge with a hand outstretched and his eyes shut. Rain slipped between his fingers, and the hair on his bare arm stood up from the cold. But he looked perfectly serene, just…standing there.

"Yeonjun-ah," he said softly to get his attention and Yeonjun’s eyes blinked open, finding him by the door.

"Hi." His hand fell to the ledge, water pooling under his palm.

"What are you doing?"

Yeonjun shrugged. "It’s nice out."

Soobin took a step out the door. "It’s freezing, come inside."

"It’s not cold." Yeonjun reached out to him with his dry hand, a little smile on his face. "Come stand with me."

He said it with such love and warmth, cutting through the last dregs of the winter chill, and Soobin found himself shutting the door behind him and joining Yeonjun by the ledge. Their fingers laced together- they didn’t hold hands often enough and Soobin feared forgetting how much he loved the fit of Yeonjun’s hand in his own.

"Close your eyes," Yeonjun coaxed, and he listened, letting his eyes fall shut.

The backs of his eyelids were gray and fuzzy. He could suddenly hear the rain all around him, a persistent comforting thrum that enveloped his senses. If it weren’t for Yeonjun’s warm hand holding him like an anchor, he might drift away completely.

"Isn’t it nice?" Yeonjun murmured.

He nodded, and when he opened his eyes, he saw Yeonjun looking at him curiously.

"What?" he asked, growing self-conscious.

Yeonjun glanced back out over the drizzly gray cityscape. "I just think you’re beautiful." Before he could think of anything to say in return, he felt Yeonjun’s cold, rain-soaked hand cup his cheek and then they were kissing.

The urgency in his kiss felt unlike any sort of passion Yeonjun had given him before, as if afraid that he too would slip between his fingers like rain.

Yeonjun’s face felt wet and Soobin had the fleeting thought that he might be crying. He wondered if he was the cause of his tears. If he had ever been the cure. Yeonjun cried more freely than anyone Soobin had ever met, emotions overtaking him like spring storms, and he used to think it made him fragile. He no longer thought that. In truth, it made Yeonjun stronger and wiser than him. He still had so much to learn.

Yeonjun had his arms around his neck, breaths warm against the wetness on his cheek, and Soobin let him push him up against the balcony ledge. Rain hit his back, soaking through his thin collared shirt, but he didn’t care. He held Yeonjun’s waist, tasted the rain on his tongue, and simply let himself be.

If Yeonjun really was crying, Soobin couldn’t tell anymore. The rain pelted against the back of his neck and saturated his hair, dripping along his jaw and down the collar of his shirt. Yeonjun’s hair was plastered against his forehead and cheeks in dark curls that reminded Soobin of when they had first met.

They were both drenched but still Yeonjun kissed him as though he would never get another chance, the intensity of it enough to keep him warm. And Soobin knew this had to be love. Beautiful and torrential like a downpour. Sweeping him up completely and leaving him desperate for nothing else apart from what he has right now.

They didn’t say anything. Yeonjun’s hands were in his hair -leading him somewhere, anywhere, Soobin would follow- and then they were through the door.

“Hyung, I think I lied,” Yeonjun murmured against his lips. “I’m gonna miss you a lot.”

His heart raced, picking up in speed as he realized how much those words meant to him.

“I’ll miss you, too.”

It was so silly in perspective. He was only going away for a little over a week. They had spent longer apart. But not quite like this. Not when Yeonjun was such a big part of him. Not when Soobin started and ended his day laying in bed with him, their bodies loosely intertwined.

He wouldn’t have that. And he would have to pretend the entire time like it didn’t bother him.

They didn’t make it much farther inside. Soobin pressed Yeonjun against the sliding glass door, his mouth hungry and relentless. He needed him, needed to have Yeonjun now so he could be satisfied until he returned. Maybe satiated was a better word, his hunger quenched just enough to keep him from suffering.

Yeonjun’s shirt was simple, a tucked-in blue button-up, and it came off his shoulders easily. His skin looked shiny from the rain. Soobin loved his body, but didn’t take the time to drink it in, already feeling the pressure of seconds slipping between his fingers. He pulled his own soaked shirt off over his head before the distance between them felt too great, and reconnected their lips. Yeonjun gripped his waist, hands rough and desperate, pressing Soobin’s body more firmly against his own.

His cock lay stiff and heavy in his jeans, and he couldn’t help but grind against Yeonjun, wanting to feel more of him. But at the same time, he didn’t want to separate long enough to do anything about it. He needed to keep his hands on Yeonjun, needed to dig his fingers into his broad shoulders and rest his palms against his chest. Yeonjun’s cold hands pressed into Soobin’s back, and he slotted his thigh between his legs, eliminating any remaining space.

It felt like heaven with their erections pressed together like this, even several layers of clothes between them. Soobin had never done this before, not even with Yeonjun.

And Yeonjun rolled his hips so sinfully, encouraging Soobin to chase that high with him.

“Harder,” he whispered into Soobin’s mouth, his breath warm and inviting. And while the stimulation wasn’t enough for him, Yeonjun’s seductive whisper was, and he found himself matching Yeonjun’s pace.

They were grinding like horny teenagers, and at any other moment, Soobin would be embarrassed. But Yeonjun kept him occupied with his tongue, rolling it in his mouth just like his hips, swapping spit with him like secrets, and he got lost in the rhythm of it.

Eventually, he felt Yeonjun’s hand on the waistband of his jeans, and moved his mouth to Yeonjun’s jaw instead so he could focus on getting his cock out. Once his jeans were open, Yeonjun slipped his hand into Soobin’s boxers, closing it around his length and stroking slowly.

His hand was warm and soft, but Soobin resisted the urge to thrust up into it, wanting to give Yeonjun the freedom to touch him as he pleased.

After a few moments, Yeonjun pulled his cock out completely and rubbed his palm over the tip of it, using Soobin’s pre-cum to smear down the shaft, over his balls and back up, and jerk him off faster. Soobin bit into Yeonjun’s shoulder, eyes shut as he got swept up in the sensation.

Still, he felt like too often he let Yeonjun get him off without reciprocating, so he rushed to work Yeonjun’s belt open and yanked his jeans down to his thighs. Yeonjun had the prettiest dick he had ever seen, clean and shaved like the rest of him, more photogenic than a pornstar’s. He responded to stimulation and praise equally, both making his cock a proud, wet mess, and it disappeared entirely in Soobin’s palm.

Yeonjun panted, his forehead pressed into the crook of Soobin’s neck, damp either from sweat or the rain he couldn’t tell. “A-ah, hyung,” he hissed when Soobin tightened his fist, making a nice hole for him to fuck into.

“Does that feel good?” he murmured, placing open-mouthed kisses on his throat. He knew it felt good, as he fought to keep himself from desperately chasing release in Yeonjun’s hand, but he wanted to hear him.

Yeonjun just moaned in response, hips stuttering as he tried to match Soobin’s pace. The sound was pretty, a high keen, the kind that made Soobin’s cock leak more pre-cum, dripping between Yeonjun’s fingers. He wanted to fuck him. He wanted to have his cock buried in Yeonjun’s ass, pumping him full with load after load until it ran down his thighs in sticky white trails.

So, he let go of Yeonjun’s cock and brought his wet fingers to his ass instead, pressing one against his rim. It fluttered under his touch, and Yeonjun nodded. “You can put it in,” he breathed.

It took more work than usual to ease a finger into him, and logically, Soobin knew it made more sense to just move into the bedroom where they had plenty of lube and a nice mattress to fuck on. But Yeonjun was still loosely working his hand over his cock and something in the moment would be lost if they broke from it now.

“Does it hurt?” Soobin asked, gently pumping his finger in and out of Yeonjun’s hole, making sure to crook it just right so that his knuckle would rub up against Yeonjun’s prostate.

“A little,” Yeonjun admitted, breath hot against Soobin’s cheek. “You could do the second one, though.”

“What about my cock?”

Yeonjun let out an airy laugh. “Are you trying to break me?”

Soobin pressed his forehead to Yeonjun’s as he tested the second finger, teasing it in alongside the first. It went in with even more resistance, and Yeonjun clenched on instinct. “Maybe. I think you’re beautiful when you’re all broken because of me.”

Yeonjun kissed him again, dragging Soobin’s bottom lip between his teeth before he released it and murmured, “That’s kind of fucked up.”

“Mm, mhm,” Soobin agreed. “Relax a little more.”

“I’m trying, fuck,” Yeonjun cursed even as Soobin felt him open up, and pushed both of his fingers past his rim. His own hand on Soobin’s cock had stopped a minute or so ago, and he breathed heavily, eyes shut as he tried to adjust to the intrusion. Soobin made sure to pump them in and out slower than he normally would, and gradually, Yeonjun started rolling his hips back to meet the thrusts of his fingers, wanting to feel them deeper. “O-okay, let me turn around,” he said shakily.

“We don’t have to do this here.” Soobin wanted to make sure he knew that no was an option. He didn’t actually want to hurt Yeonjun, and he eased his fingers out of him carefully as he spoke.

“No, I want to,” Yeonjun answered, voice surprisingly firm. He turned and braced his palms on the sliding glass door, and when he bent over just a bit, back slightly arched, Soobin’s breath hitched in his throat. God, he always made for the most beautiful sight. Selfishly, Soobin wanted to see more of him, so he dragged Yeonjun’s jeans down his legs and let him kick them aside, leaving him naked and exposed.

“You’ve got the prettiest body,” Soobin said softly, letting his hands run down Yeonjun’s sides, along his sharp hips, and eventually over the perky tan globes of his ass.

He used to wonder what he had done to earn someone like Yeonjun, but now he understood it was more about the sacrifices that he made to keep him. Young, beautiful creatures like him weren’t to be tied up, but he let Soobin capture and keep him without complaint. And it was because Soobin understood him. Because Soobin was the only one who understood him.

He squeezed, and Yeonjun adjusted his position, arching his back even better for him. “I love your cute little ass.”

“Fuck it, then,” Yeonjun suggested against the glass.

“Ask me to,” he replied, hitting him lightly just to see the way it bounced.

“Please.”

Soobin rested his cock between his cheeks, thrusting between them and leaving a wet trail of pre-cum over his hole. “Please what?”

Yeonjun sounded distinctly more shy as he mumbled, “Please fuck my ass,” and Soobin could see a pink blush slowly spreading over his face, reflected in the glass.

He continued to drag his cock back and forth across Yeonjun’s hole, letting the tip bump against his entrance but never actually pushing in. “I think you’re missing some words,” he remarked even though he knew it was a bit mean of him, and Yeonjun let out a whine.

“I- I can’t say-”

“Yes, you can. Say it for me.”

“Soobin-”

“Go on.”

Yeonjun seeemd on the verge of tears from the embarrassment as he stammered out, “P-please fuck my cute little ass.”

Soobin let out a groan of satisfaction and gripped Yeonjun’s waist, guiding his cock to press directly against his pink hole, wet with his own pre-cum. “Good boy,” he praised in a low voice. He pushed in gently, and Yeonjun went completely still, obviously fighting to keep his body relaxed and pliant.

Right away, Soobin knew neither of them would last long, but that was okay. He still made the most of it, easing his cock into Yeonjun with more care than usual, and trying not to cum right away from how tightly he gripped him and how stimulated he already was from the handjob.

His cock actually fit into him easier than his fingers had, slick with pre-cum and Yeonjun’s spit. Still, Yeonjun’s palms clenched into fists, and a string of pitiful moans were pulled from his throat. “A-ah, a-ah, it hurts,” he whined, and Soobin stopped immediately, his length barely halfway in.

“Do you want me to stop?” he murmured, brushing his nose against Yeonjun’s cheek.

Yeonjun shook his head. “F-feels good.”

“It hurts but it feels good?”

He nodded.

“You like when it hurts, don’t you?”

A beat passed, and then Yeonjun nodded again.

Cruel words rested on the tip of Soobin’s tongue, things he knew he couldn’t say, but secretly wanted to just to see Yeonjun admit to them. He wanted to accuse Yeonjun of liking him for the same reason, even though he knew he hurt him, and that sometimes, they really weren’t good for each other at all. He wanted Yeonjun to admit that he only confessed his love for Soobin knowing he would be rejected each time because he liked the way it cut him. Like little knives pressing into his skin over and over, putting himself on the line just to be torn down, an awful cycle that he perpetuated because he liked it.

He didn’t say any of those things. Instead, he kissed Yeonjun’s cheek, murmuring, “My poor, precious baby,” before he thrust into him again. This time, he was rough, ruthless, and Yeonjun cried out, not prepared for the intensity of it. But still, he didn’t protest or complain.

It made Soobin wonder what else he could get away with. How far he could push Yeonjun before he snapped.

Not that he really wanted to. It was a sadistic thought, one he didn’t genuinely mean. But he could indulge in it, as he fucked into Yeonjun over and over, forcing bruises onto his pristine honey skin with rough, unforgiving fingers. He could think about just how much Yeonjun would endure, physically and mentally, only for the vague hope that Soobin might one day tell him that he loves him back.

He did love Yeonjun. Oh certainly, he loved him, with all the intensity and desperation that a true first love wrought from anyone. And the more he realized he loved him, the more Soobin had to hate him, too, because it meant that Yeonjun had broken him in a way that no one else could.

Soobin had spent his life fighting down his own desires, killing any thought that would land him in a position similar to the one he was in now.

In love with a man, in love with his beauty, with the distinct lack of femininity in Yeonjun’s flat chest, nipples hard against the cold glass, and his sharp, narrow hips. In love with the way Yeonjun’s cock felt in his fist as he closed his hand around it, jerking him off at a fast brutal pace as he slammed into him again and again. His balls slapped against Yeonjun’s ass, creating a crude sound in their new living room, and it wasn’t nearly wet enough, not the way Yeonjun liked. But he continued to fuck into Soobin’s hand, his breath painting the glass with condensation.

“God, you’re so fucking tight,” Soobin groaned, pressing his other hand to Yeonjun’s stomach so he could hold his body even closer against his own. Yeonjun clenched as even more of Soobin’s cock fit into him, whimpering from how much he liked the pain. He knew it was mean, but Yeonjun took it so well. It felt warm and velvety inside him without all of the lube, his walls slick only with whatever drooled out of Soobin’s cock.

In just two days, Soobin would be back home with his family, pretending like he hadn’t spent the past year pounding the ass of one of his pretty male students at his new teaching job at a prestigious private academy. They would ask him about a girlfriend and he would lie with a pleasant smile on his face. They would have no idea, no idea that he had that same pretty boy waiting for him back in Seoul, that they shared an apartment and a bed. That Soobin was in love with him.

“A-ah, I’m gonna cum,” Yeonjun cried out, barely holding himself up as Soobin fucked into him so hard that his legs were shaking and his entire body moved forward with every thrust of his hips. And sure enough, with one more thrust, Yeonjun came all over the glass and Soobin’s hand, dripping onto the wooden floor. He clenched around Soobin over and over as the shockwaves overtook him, and that was enough to push Soobin over the edge.

Gripping Yeonjun by the hips, he buried his cock in him as deep as it would go and filled him up with his cum. He kissed all over his shoulders and back, continuing to roll his hips into him as he rode out his orgasm, and Yeonjun just let out soft little moans the entire time, breathing so heavily that the glass looked more wet from condensation than the rain outside.

He felt satisfied, panting against Yeonjun’s back and feeling his cum slowly leaking out around him. Like he had done something to lay his claim on Yeonjun, to make sure he stayed his while he was gone. He knew Yeonjun would be sore for days. Gently, he gathered him in his arms, pulling him away from the glass and against his own body, and caught his lips in a messy kiss.

Yeonjun was surprisingly responsive, twisting so that he could slip his tongue into Soobin’s mouth. His cock stayed inside his body, still hard, and Yeonjun breathed, “You wanna do me again on the couch? I’m wet now.”

What a filthy thing to say. It made him smile, knowing Yeonjun wasn’t as innocent as everyone else seemed to think.

“Mm.” Soobin nodded, but his breathing was still harsh. “Give me a minute.”

“You could fuck me again in the shower, too,” Yeonjun suggested, taking away every chance Soobin had to regain his breath. “Since three is a lucky number.”

Soobin let out an airy laugh, pressing his face to Yeonjun’s damp hair. “Now I think you’re the one trying to break me.”

Yeonjun hummed. “Maybe. I think you’re beautiful when you’re broken because of me, too, you know.”

He did know. It was what made them so perfectly terrible for one another. “Come on, then,” he said softly, placing a kiss on Yeonjun’s cheek and slowly easing out of him. More cum dripped down Yeonjun’s tan thighs. “Come ride me.”

Yeonjun caught his hand, interlacing their fingers together, and he kept holding it the entire time they fucked on the sofa. So sweet and tender, so desperate to forget that they would be parting for a week. He knew Yeonjun said he would miss him, but Soobin would miss him more. Yeonjun had a dozen other people to surround himself with in his absence.

Soobin really only had him.

And for most of the past year, he had been content with that. Truth be told, he really only needed Yeonjun.

───────✧❁✧───────

On the fifth day of his trip, late into the afternoon, he sat on the sofa in the living room, working on outlining lessons for the coming semester. His dad was at work and his mom had left to walk around their neighborhood market for a while. It was a Friday tradition of hers, one she had been doing since he and his brother were kids.

So, he enjoyed the solace of a silent house, sipping on ginger tea, and listening to the sounds of his computer keys and kids running around down the street. It was quieter here than in the center of Seoul, and gave him some peace of mind.

An hour or so later, his phone started ringing. He answered as soon as he checked the caller.

“You’re out of work early.”

“Yeah, we wrapped pretty quick. The shoot was easy since it was just a makeup campaign, and all they wanted me to do after was film a short endorsement thing.”

Hearing Yeonjun’s voice felt like a breath of fresh air, washing over him and reminding him of why he wanted to get home so quickly. He had gotten a bit caught up in the escapism of it all, putting distance between them in his mind so he wouldn’t accidentally let something slip in front of his family, but that all came crashing down as he heard Yeonjun now.

“That’s nice, you’ll be able to enjoy your Friday night, then.”

“Mhm, I made plans to go out with Beomgyu and Taehyun.”

“I hope you three have fun.”

While it didn’t thrill him that Yeonjun would be spending the evening in Kang Taehyun’s company, there was the distinct chance that his feelings for him had all but dissipated with time, leaving them as nothing more than good friends. Yeonjun rarely saw Taehyun. Most likely, he had moved on to other people.

Beomgyu served as a good filler as well, undoubtedly Soobin’s favorite out of all of Yeonjun’s friends. No romantic interest, no ulterior motives. Just a friend.

“We will,” Yeonjun replied without too much trouble. “How’s Ansan?”

“Alright. A bit quiet and boring, truth be told.” Suburbia never really suited him. The atmosphere was stifling, crowded with people he had known since birth and places he had been a million times. There was no one he wanted to visit, no sights he ever felt particularly nostalgic for. As the days passed, they grated on him, long and empty, void of excitement. Constantly dodging his mother’s questions and his father’s impassivity.

He couldn’t understand how he used to live like this. But somehow, he did. For years. And he pitied his younger self because he had no idea what he was missing out on. The world was vast, filled with so much more than repeated conversations and dull familiar places.

“Quiet and boring can be good sometimes,” Yeonjun said, a wistful longing coloring his tone.

Growing suspicious, Soobin asked, “Are you talking about me?”

Yeonjun laughed, and it made Soobin homesick. “No, hyung, how many times do I have to tell you that I don’t think you’re boring at all? I actually miss you a lot. I thought I could make it a week without calling, but here I am.”

Soobin wished he could call Yeonjun every night, but was terrified of being overheard. Yeonjun understood, thankfully, and promised to only call if he really needed him. He supposed that time was now. He chose a good time, too, all things considered, since Soobin was finally alone.

“I’m glad you miss me. I would be rather sad if you didn’t.”

“Do you miss me?”

“Of course,” he said softly, sharpening the little ache in his chest that yearned for him. It hadn’t been there at all until Yeonjun called. “But we used to go weeks without seeing each other, you know. It’s only been five days.”

Yeonjun was quiet for a moment, then admitted, “It’s different now, though. I was used to being with you every single day. We have the apartment and stuff. And…I don’t like being alone here without you.”

Soobin felt bad for leaving him behind, but he needed Yeonjun to understand that it was his only option. He hadn’t gone back home in over a year. His parents had started to worry, and he had to dissuade any suspicion that he was doing something he shouldn’t be. “I’ll be home in another two days,” he gently reassured him. “You can invite Beomgyu to stay with you if you’d like.”

“Maybe I’ll do that,” Yeonjun replied with a sigh.

“We can do something when I get back. I’ll take you to dinner somewhere nice.”

“Let’s go walk around the market. The cherry blossoms might be out by then.”

“Okay,” Soobin agreed. “Let’s do that.” Then, after a beat passed, he said, “I really do miss you.”

“Good,” Yeonjun responded, and it sounded like he had found a smile. “I should let you get back to your family now.”

“Mm, I suppose. Let me know what you and your friends end up doing tonight, alright? Where you’re going, with who, all of that.”

“Okay, I will. Have a good night, hyung.”

“You too. Bye.”

“Bye.”

When Yeonjun ended the call, Soobin was overwhelmed by a sudden sense of loneliness. However, he didn’t even get any time to process it before a voice came from behind him.

“Who was that?”

He sharply turned around, only to see his mother standing in the living room entryway with her hands full of bags. Quickly, he got up and went to take them from her. “A friend.”

She followed him into the kitchen, and of course had to continue asking questions. “Really?”

Soobin glanced at her, and the look she gave him was enough to have him spinning in anxiety. “Yes, really. Why do you ask?” Trying to maintain his composure, as if his heart wasn’t racing, he calmly unpacked the food she had picked up from the market.

“Well it’s just that it almost sounded like you were talking to a girl.”

And thankfully, he truly wasn’t talking to a girl, so he didn’t even have to lie. His mother knew what he sounded like when he was lying.

He frowned. “I wasn’t. How long were you listening in on my conversation?”

With a shrug, she answered, “Not all that long. I called when I came in, but you were all wrapped up in your phone call.” When Soobin didn’t say anything else, she prompted, “Was it really just a friend?”

Soobin replied, “Of course. Why does it matter, anyway?”

His mother didn’t like his answer, an annoyed look crossing her face. “You know why it matters. I’m starting to think you won’t be giving me any grandchildren at all.”

At some point, the fear in his heart froze over, replaced by a certain cool boldness whose source he didn’t care to trace. “And what if that was the case?”

“What?”

She sounded shocked, and slightly nervous, but Soobin pushed on.

“What if I don’t want kids?”

“Soobin-ah, don’t be ridiculous,” she huffed, opening the cabinets to avoid looking at him. But when he maintained his silence she asked softly, “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

He looked at her, and she looked the exact same way she had when he was a child. Her hair tied up in a bun, eyes tired from raising two sons, wearing the same clothes she had been wearing for years. But the fear in her eyes was new- maybe she had been suspicious for a long time but never thought she would actually have to ask.

“No,” he said quietly, and turned back to the bag in front of him.

“Soobin-”

“I made tea not too long ago,” he interrupted, finishing packing away her things. “The water should still be hot.”

“Soobin, you know you can tell me anything, right?”

She wasn’t allowing him to change the subject, and it only made him more adamant to do just that. “That’s good to know. What kind of tea would you like?”

“Forget the tea for a moment,” she said sharply, taking the same tone with him that she used to when he misbehaved. “And help me understand something.”

“Mom-”

“Let me speak.”

He fell silent, knowing he had done his best to derail the oncoming interrogation but that she left him no choice but to listen.

“Why haven’t you met a nice woman yet?”

Soobin sighed. “I’ve met plenty.”

“So, where are they? Why haven’t I met any of them?”

“Because.” He tried not to sound as tired with the conversation as he felt. “It hasn’t worked out with anyone.”

“Is that because you don’t want children? I can accept if that’s the case, but you can’t possibly be happy alone like this.” When he had nothing to say, she went on, “Have you met Choi Eunha’s daughter? Han Eunbi?”

Choi Eunha was a part of his mother’s book club, and had been for as long as he could remember. Her daughter looked nearly identical to her, the same round face and big eyes, and he remembered it weirding him out as a kid. “Yes, I’ve met her.”

In passing. When her mother brought her around to visit. They had nothing in common. She was fine looking, of course, and he was sure she was a lovely person, but none of it mattered. He was an adult. They both were. And it had been years since trying to get him a date was his mother’s responsibility. Besides, if she was still single, she was most likely in the same boat he was: closeted, anxious, or both.

“She’s really wonderful,” his mother said softly, and they both knew it was a desperate attempt. “She’s a doctor, too. Pediatrician.”

He shut his eyes. “Mom, I don’t know how to say this other than I’m simply not interested. I’m sorry.”

It was the wrong thing to say. “There is someone, isn’t there?” Her accusation rang out sharp through the kitchen, and he hated himself for visibly wincing.

“No.”

“Yes, there is,” his mother insisted. “You wouldn’t be so stubborn and ungrateful if there wasn’t.”

“How am I being ungrateful?” He kept his tone perfectly calm even as frustration began to build within him.

His mother threw her hands up, clearly just as upset as he was becoming. “I just want you to be happy, Soobin, is that so horrible of me?”

“I’m perfectly happy,” he retorted, a sharp edge creeping into his voice. “Just because I’m not settled down with a woman you picked for me doesn’t mean I’m not happy. There’s more to life than just marriage and kids, you know. Besides, Seungmin has given you two grandkids already, and I’m sure there’s another one on the way soon. Isn’t that enough?”

“This is not about your brother,” she replied angrily. “This is about you not doing anything with your life.”

“I like my life!” He didn’t mean to shout- he really only ever raised his voice with his parents because they never listened. He had never even raised his voice with Yeonjun before. He didn’t like the way he sounded when he was angry- that person didn’t sound like him. “I’m happy! So I don’t understand what your problem is. It’s not your life, you’ve done all the things you wanted, so let me live mine now.”

At the same time, the front door opened and he heard his father’s voice. “What is going on in here? Why are you yelling at your mother?”

“I’m not-” Soobin stepped back, and sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get carried away.”

“He thinks I don’t want him to be happy,” his mother stated stiffly. “As if I haven’t been trying to help him for the past ten years.”

“Why am I not allowed to say that I don’t want your help?”

“Because you’re lying, then.” She couldn’t even look him in the eyes as she said it, glaring at his chest instead. “The way you’re living right now isn’t healthy.”

He stared, utterly bewildered, and then glanced at his father who just stood there in the kitchen entryway. “What are you talking about?”

Carefully, his father stepped into the kitchen and placed a hand on her shoulder. “I think she just means that you’re lonely. And it’s not- well, it’s not necessarily normal for a man your age to have no partner or active social life.”

“It’s fascinating to me how you two suddenly believe yourselves to be the last word on what is and isn’t normal,” he replied coldly. “And that it’s somehow not enough for me to tell you that I’m happy, and that I enjoy my life, because you can’t even entertain the idea of me being happy without being married.”

“Why won’t you get married?” his mother pushed, shaking her husband’s hand off of her.

Soobin fixed his gaze on her, saying firmly, “Because I don’t want to marry someone I don’t love. And I really don’t understand why that’s strange to you.”

“You’re being too picky,” she harshly insisted. “Are you trying to fall in love with a supermodel or something?” She had no idea how ironic of a statement that was. “You would be better off moving back home. There are plenty of nice, beautiful girls even in our neighborhood. You don’t need one of those fancy Seoul girls.”

“No, I don’t,” he agreed. “I don’t really need anyone at all.”

“Soobin,” his father reprimanded. “Don’t take that tone with her.”

“I’m allowed to say my piece without being told I’m having an attitude about it,” he argued, suddenly feeling like a child again with the way his parents were speaking to him. He wasn’t a child, and he had every right to defend himself and his choices. Adrenaline rushed through him, sudden and unfamiliar. But he took advantage of it. They couldn’t keep having this conversation. “And the truth is that I really don’t care that you don’t like the way I’m choosing to live my life. I’m content. I like my job, and I like living in Seoul. I have people I care about, and you don’t have to meet them. Not living my life out right in front of you doesn’t make it less authentic.”

“I hear what you’re saying-” his father tried, but Soobin couldn’t stand it anymore.

“No, you don’t,” he cut him off sharply. “Neither of you do. You never listen. You’re deaf behind the white noise of your picket fences and perfect families, and I don’t want anything to do with it.”

His mother tightly gripped his father’s hand. “We’ve worked extremely hard to make a good life for you and your brother, and now you’re saying you want nothing to do with us?”

“I’m a grown man,” he stated firmly, as if saying it again and again would somehow make her understand. “I don’t need you to make a life for me. Especially not here.”

“Fine,” she hissed. “Go, then, if your family really means nothing to you. Go back to Seoul, and all those ‘people’ you care about who aren’t us, and everything you’ve apparently made for yourself.”

Stunned, he took a step back. “That’s not what this is about-”

“Obviously it is,” she interrupted. “Your father and I are just horrible parents, and all those days your brother spent taking care of you don’t matter. All the meals I’ve made for you with food bought using the money we worked hard every day for mean nothing either. You don’t want anything to do with it, right? Then just go.”

“I-” He couldn’t understand how everything had spiraled out of control so quickly, and the words refused to come.

Even his father seemed uncertain. “Hayoung…” he said his mother’s name softly, but she gave no sign that she heard him. She just turned her head and walked quietly to her room, the door closing behind her.

“I was only trying to get her to understand…” Soobin whispered, and his father gave him a pitying look.

He had never been the type of man to speak on behalf of his wife, so he simply said, “It didn’t sound like that. It’s probably best if you stay in the city tonight.”

There was nothing left to be said, certainly no arguing left to do. Feeling strangely empty and hollow, Soobin nodded. It didn’t take long for him to retrieve his things, and his shoes and coat were by the door.

“Try calling in a few days,” his father advised. Soobin wanted to say that he shouldn’t be the one to apologize. He hadn’t done anything wrong. But he just nodded again. His father didn’t clap him on the shoulder like he usually would. He didn’t even wait for Soobin to leave. He just glanced back at him once and then let himself into the bedroom he shared with his mother. The door shut behind him in the same way.

Soobin sighed and let himself out.

Shadows had started to gather outside as late afternoon rolled into evening. The day had grown quiet, kids going inside for dinner, parents already home from work. The flashing of his car lights looked lonely on the empty street.

Sitting in the driver’s seat, he just stared out the windshield blankly at his parents house for what felt like an eternity. He had managed to fuck everything up without even doing anything wrong at all. Was it really so awful for him to stand up for himself against his mother’s ceaseless micro-managing? She just didn’t have it in her to let him live his life in peace, and he needed a break from it, needed it to stop. He wanted her to understand that she had done her part as a parent and now it was his turn to make his own decisions.

It wasn’t like he was eighteen and just now venturing out into the world. He was thirty-four. And she made him sound so pathetic and useless, as if he was incapable of doing anything for himself when he had been living just fine without her this entire time.

And then there was the obsession with marriage. It always came back to marriage, making it seem like she couldn’t live peacefully until he was married with kids, paying a mortgage and working a nine-to-five. She would set him up with the woman who rang up her groceries if only it meant that he would be engaged by the summer.

He sighed again, shutting his eyes and just resting against the steering wheel. What a mess. What a horrible, awful mess. He might as well have just thrown in the fact that he was gay while he was at it. At least then maybe she could comprehend why he didn’t want to marry every woman she met and thought was mildly suitable for him.

That would give the poor woman a heart attack, though, no matter how much he wished it would be that easy. She would probably just collapse then and there, and refuse to get up until he took it all back and promised to get married to a nice girl the next day.

It was times like these when Soobin wished his father had more of a spine. He knew he would stand up for him if only he had the strength to. His father, at least, understood him. They were more similar, quiet and introspective people who kept to themselves and lived out their lives in the company of few, but special, people. But Soobin had gotten both his father’s demeanor and his mother’s temper, and it made for a bad combination. When he lashed out, his words were harsh because they stayed suppressed inside of him for so long. They fermented and sharpened, and couldn’t be taken back once said out loud. His father knew better than him. He knew to be quiet and complacent. He could endure provocation.

Soobin couldn’t. Not to the extent that his mother had continuously demanded he tolerate. Maybe that made everything that had happened tonight his fault. He really didn’t know.

But he did know he would be the one apologizing in a few days. She never would, and Soobin would look like a bad son if it seemed like he expected her to. He would become an outcast.

He envied his brother, who could only do everything right in their parents’ eyes. But Soobin was glad he wasn’t there to witness their fight. Seungmin would have taken her side. He always did.

Eventually, he had to put his key in the ignition and turn on his car. The drive back into the city would be long. Hopefully Yeonjun would be home by the time he got back. He would listen, and tell Soobin that he had been right to say what he did, and everything would be fine. His reassurance would be enough.

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

Yeonjun gazed glumly out at the dance floor, trying not to let his bad mood ruin their night. He wanted to be out. Honestly, he did. It was nice to get out of the apartment and spend time with his friends. Preferable to spending hours alone with all that empty space and only himself for company. Beomgyu just came back from grinding on a guy he found in the last twenty minutes, a guy who very much wasn’t the last boyfriend Yeonjun remembered him having, and he passed a cocktail to him. Something blue and fruity. It felt decently appropriate.

As he sipped his drink, Beomgyu bumped his shoulder with his own. “Look over there,” he said, voice not nearly subtle enough as he nodded towards a guy standing near the bar. “He’s hot.”

The guy had on a violet blazer and a black tank top with a low neck. His pants were tight, obviously trying to show what he was packing, and his hair had that dark, wet look to it. The guy was right around their age, face passable but not anything that caught the eye. Yeonjun could already tell he would bore the fuck out of Beomgyu.

Yeonjun shot Beomgyu a look. “Weren’t you literally just out dancing with someone?”

“Not for me, for you, idiot.”

He sighed. “How many times do I have to remind you that I have a boyfriend?”

Beomgyu rolled his eyes. “Probably about a dozen more considering I never see him. He might as well not exist for all I care, honestly.”

“Well, he does exist,” he snapped. “And you should care more and stop trying to set me up with other people.”

“Yeonjun, your so-called boyfriend doesn’t want to do anything with you. Ever. Doesn’t that bother you?”

“We do plenty when we’re together.”

“Oh yeah, like what?”

Yeonjun took another sip of his cocktail. “Fuck, mostly,” he replied evenly, earning him a snort from Beomgyu.

“And you’re not bored out of your mind with that?”

He shrugged. “Hard to be bored when I’m getting great dick. Besides,” he sighed again, and dropped the act. They both knew he wasn’t as ambivalent about it as he sounded. “We have an actual emotional connection. I don’t expect you to understand, considering you bounce between dudes like a beach ball.”

“I’m having fun,” Beomgyu rebuked. “It’s called being young. You should try it sometime.”

“It’s called being a whore,” he replied over the lip of his drink with a smirk, and Beomgyu hit his arm with the force of a newborn puppy. He was cute when he wasn’t irritating the hell out of him.

“Choi Yeonjun, I swear to god-”

“Why are you two fighting again?” Taehyun reappeared from the restroom, looking immediately exasperated upon seeing them argue and interrupting what Yeonjun was sure would have been a scathing retort from Beomgyu.

He smiled. “You can’t leave us alone for two seconds, we just miss you so much. It makes us crazy.”

He did miss Taehyun these days. More than he could ever put into words.

“Oh, really? Maybe I should go back, then, and let you two miss me a little more.” Taehyun accepted the beer Beomgyu slid his way and slipped into the booth beside Yeonjun. It allowed him to get a closer look- they’d been on and off the dance floor all night and it had been a long time since they hung out like this. Taehyun never went out with them, he was too busy with classes all the time.

His nose looked different, like he’d finally gotten it fixed after two years of being broken. He looked good. He always looked good, though. As much as it pained him to admit, Taehyun was probably the most handsome out of the three of them. He had an easygoing masculine look that Yeonjun sometimes envied.

“I miss you even when you’re right in front of me,” Beomgyu purred, dripping a gag-worthy amount of sentimentality.

“That just means you’re fucking nuts all the time,” Yeonjun quipped, returning his attention to the table. He should focus more on the present. “Which we knew already.”

Beomgyu wore a pout even while he fixed his hair, using his phone screen as a mirror. “Taehyun-ah, tell him to stop being mean to me.”

“I would if he wasn’t right.”

Yeonjun laughed and draped an arm around Taehyun’s shoulders. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be. They were all getting older. “See, this is why we need you around. Drop out of law school.”

Taehyun raised his eyebrows. “Sure, and I’ll just become an opera singer too, while I’m at it.”

“You don’t have the lungs to do theater,” Beomgyu commented.

Yeonjun snickered. “Or the gag reflex, either.”

Beomgyu sighed wistfully. “I remember sucking Jung Yeosung off in the paint closet like it was yesterday.”

“I think it was yesterday.”

“Was yesterday Thursday?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh, then I think you’re right.”

They all laughed, and the tension of his earlier argument with Beomgyu was fully forgotten. He knew Beomgyu didn’t mean anything bad by it. In his own way, he was trying to look out for him. It just wasn’t very appreciated or necessary. He knew he and Soobin had issues when it came to connection. He didn’t need Beomgyu rubbing it in his face. Besides, Soobin was home with his family right now. He wasn’t not spending time with Yeonjun on purpose.

“Okay, I know I have the absent boyfriend,” he said, trying to act lighthearted about it so Beomgyu wouldn’t think he was genuinely upset, “But why are you here single again?” Yeonjun finally got around to asking Taehyun, something he’d meant to ask ages ago, to which he just took a drink from his beer.

“He’s afraid of letting us out of his sight,” Beomgyu supplied for him, which made Yeonjun suspicious for some reason.

“Bullshit, he’d love an excuse to get away from us.”

Taehyun chuckled, although he didn’t look thrilled with the topic. Then again, he never loved being the subject of conversation. “I’m just not looking for a relationship, honestly.”

Yeonjun frowned. “You don’t have to be in a relationship. But you’re a sexy single law student, hitting the club without a date. Someone here has to catch your eye at least. And you’ve got straight dude privilege. You can hit on any girl you want.”

He had never seen Taehyun express interest in anyone, honestly, aside from actresses or musicians he’d called hot here and there.

Beomgyu was looking at Taehyun intensely now, as if he too wanted to hear his answer.

Taehyun shrugged. “I’m good. I’d rather spend time with you guys.”

It didn’t sound very convincing. Maybe he just wasn’t confident enough to approach a girl.

Yeonjun started surveying the dance floor, and noticed a pretty girl with her hair up in a high ponytail, wearing a gold crop top and a black miniskirt. She seemed like she was having fun, just dancing with her friends, although she kept glancing at some of the guys around the room. He wanted her shoes, and so he pointed her out with his pinky in a very poor attempt at being subtle. “She’s cute. I think.”

“You think?” Beomgyu snorted. “That has got to be the gayest shit you’ve ever said.”

“I like her shoes.” She had on these chunky black platform boots with gold accents and he really wouldn’t mind getting a pair for himself.

“Never mind, that’s the gayest shit you’ve ever said,” Beomgyu quickly corrected his statement, and Yeonjun glared at him.

“Hey, I’m trying to help our poor flirtatiously challenged Taehyunie here loosen up a little.”

Taehyun barely glanced at her. He seemed wholly invested in analyzing every bubble in his beer. “She’s not really my type.”

“What even is your type?” Beomgyu inquired, popping an ice cube into his mouth and biting. Yeonjun really wished he wouldn’t. He winced just thinking about it.

“I don’t know, I’m not all that picky.”

Beomgyu was quick to catch his mistake. “But you just said she’s not your type.” Taehyun shot him a sharp look, which Yeonjun honestly didn’t get. They were just having fun.

And then Taehyun said shortly, “I know what you want me to say and I’m not going to do it. So if you could just drop the whole thing, that would be great.”

Bewildered, Yeonjun just watched as Beomgyu rolled his eyes and muttered, “Scaredy cat,” under his breath loud enough for both of them to hear.

Suddenly it felt like they were having an entirely different conversation.

“What are you two talking about?” he prompted, since it looked like no one was interested in explaining. “Nothing,” Taehyun stated.

“You realize you’re just screwing yourself over, right?” All at once, Beomgyu didn’t sound so much like he was joking anymore. He’d adopted his serious voice, deep and smooth with no hint of laughter, or even a smile.

Taehyun said nothing, eyes hard and defiant, hands perfectly still on the tabletop.

Beomgyu shrugged. “Whatever. Suit yourself. I guess it’s none of my damn business anymore, right? Since you’ve got new friends with even fatter wallets and your own fucking flat in Yongsan. I don’t have a black card, so what the hell do I know, right?”

Yeonjun sat there completely lost, unsure of when the conversation had grown so hostile.

“You know it’s not like that.” Taehyun’s words were nice enough but they sounded dead, and Beomgyu rolled his eyes again.

Maybe he hadn’t talked to Taehyun enough recently to understand. But it seemed like he and Beomgyu had been talking a lot.

“Guys,” he said softly, but it was like they pretended not to hear.

“I hope it won’t hurt your ego if I keep buying your drinks,” Beomgyu just kept on going. “I know how you feel about-”

“You’re being dramatic,” Taehyun harshly cut him off. “That’s not what I meant and you know it, so stop being so whiny.”

“Oh, I’m whiny? I can’t believe you have the fucking nerve to say that to me when I’ve listened to you whine every single day for the past three years about how-”

“Guys!” Yeonjun interrupted more forcefully this time, and they both glanced at him, remembering he sat there too. “That’s enough.”

The two of them used to argue often about silly little things that seem so trivial now upon reflection. But something about this fight didn’t sound half as petty.

“What the hell?” he just asked in disbelief, at a loss for words.

“Nothing,” Taehyun insisted, and his tone left no room for argument.

But Beomgyu still had a point to make, and Taehyun’s tone had never scared him into backing down before. “You know how frustrating it is to watch, right? You can’t be happy like that.”

“Just drop it. I don’t fucking care how frustrating it is for you, it’s none of your business.”

He had never heard them fight so callously, sharp and sneering, and he just wanted to understand. Taehyun barely ever cussed, let alone raised his voice. “Can someone please tell me what’s going on?”

“Taehyun is in love with you,” Beomgyu blurted out, and his heart stopped.

He didn’t even have time to process it, to even think about what the words meant before Taehyun was on his feet, slamming a few bills down on the table with enough force to rattle the ice in their drinks, his spilling over the sides, and heading towards the door.

When he looked back at Beomgyu, he saw his eyes were red with frustration, unable to look at him at all, but he muttered, “Go.”

Not completely in control of his own movements, he managed to get to his feet and follow Taehyun out, pushing through the crowd without much consideration for who he bumped into.

Outside, away from all the noise and the lights, cool air washed over him and he could just see the back of Taehyun’s head turning the corner at the end of the street to where the parking garage lay. He jogged to catch up, and Taehyun seemed to already know who was behind him because he said, “I can’t talk to you right now.”

Not that he wouldn’t. But that he can’t.

And Yeonjun needed him to. Desperately.

He slipped in front of Taehyun, blocking his path. And the words poured out of him more demanding than he meant, but he couldn’t stop them. “Is what Beomgyu said true?”

Taehyun always wore the most unreadable expression and his eyes bore into him now, daring him to go on. He didn’t say anything, only tried to push past him, to keep walking away.

Yeonjun grabbed his shoulder. “Taehyun, please. You can tell me it’s not. We both know he likes to exaggerate, okay, I don’t know why you’re getting so worked up over it. Just…just say he’s making it up and we can go back, and-”

Taehyun glanced at him sharply, and the quiet chill of his voice cut Yeonjun deeper than a knife. “And if he wasn’t? Would it be so bad?”

Yeonjun took a step back. Taehyun had never spoken to him like that before. They were friends. Best friends. So why did he sound so cold?

“Taehyun…” He didn’t know what to say.

But it seemed like Taehyun had so much to say, words building up in him for god knows how long and spilling out now like glacial water through a broken dam. “Is it so ridiculous to think that I might like you?”

Yeonjun’s lips parted but he couldn’t speak. It wasn’t ridiculous. It just wasn’t something he had ever considered, because why would Taehyun have any feelings for him? Their relationship wasn’t like that. It had never been like that.

“What, do you want me to lie?” He kept asking questions, each one more vicious and angry than the last. “Would that make you feel better? Because that’s what it’s always about, right? Whatever is going to make you feel better?”

“It’s not like that,” he tried to say even though he barely knew what he was arguing against. “I didn’t know-”

“Of course you didn’t.” When Taehyun’s icy facade broke and those big eyes went wide with hurt and anguish, Yeonjun felt the pain of it in his own heart. “How would you have possibly known when I have done everything I could to not feel this way? If I didn’t love you so much I’d probably hate you. Even being your friend isn’t easy, and Beomgyu had it worse than me.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeonjun tried to control his voice but he didn’t understand what Taehyun was saying.

“Did you think that just because my parents were important people that I got off clean from all the attention you constantly had to draw to yourself? Being known as Choi Yeonjun’s best friend was hell. And it was so much worse after everything with Park Minhwan-”

Yeonjun’s heart plummeted into his stomach, and he felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. “Don’t talk about that,” he pleaded, voice deathly quiet.

Taehyun almost looked upset that he had brought it up too, but he held his ground. “Look, I know it was awful for you, but we suffered too. The fallout made us targets, and Beomgyu already had a big enough one on his back from being a scholarship kid.”

The unfairness of what he was saying made an intense anger spark in him, and he spat, “Oh, I’m so sorry that my being taken advantage of and outed against my will made your life difficult. God, that must have been so fucking hard for you, I have no idea how I didn’t notice. It’s not like I had anything going on.”

Taehyun tried to backtrack, obviously not meaning to imply what he had. “I’m not saying that it wasn’t terrible, but the way you handled it affected us too. If you’d just-”

“What?” Yeonjun cut him off coldly. “If I’d just what? How would you have wanted me to handle it? To just shut up and pretend it didn’t happen? That’s what everyone told me to do.”

“I just wish you didn’t try to turn it into something it wasn’t,” Taehyun explained furiously, and Yeonjun knew what he was getting at. Maybe a part of him secretly agreed, but it happened too long ago now to change. His choice had been made for him.

“I didn’t turn it into anything. I wouldn’t have said a fucking word if he didn’t lie about the whole thing. Everyone believed him over me. My dad made me apologize to him.”

“I know!” Taehyun had tears in his eyes now, and he so clearly regretted bringing it up at all -it wasn’t the point, it really wasn’t the point, and everything had spiraled out of control- but Yeonjun refused to let him just drop it now. He was the one who brought it up. He had to finish saying it, even if it killed him. “And it was fucked up, and I know it made your life hell, but somehow you still managed to come out of it the center of attention, acting like you couldn’t care less. I knew it was an act, but no one else did. My father beat my ass when he found out I was still hanging out with you after that. And I wanted to hate you then because I realized I’d gotten hit more times just for being your friend than for anything else.”

“Then why didn’t you?” Yeonjun pressed, voice bitter and taut. He knew Taehyun’s father beat him. Everyone knew, really, it was never a secret. And it drowned him in guilt, because Taehyun was the perfect son, and he still got hurt for it. Meanwhile, Yeonjun was the perfect disappointment and, even after everything, his father never laid a hand on him. He should have. He would’ve deserved it, so much more than Taehyun who had never done anything wrong in his life. Except for loving him, it seemed.

And Taehyun seemed to be thinking the same thing. “Because I loved you.” He confessed it bitterly, like it was a terrible truth that he wanted to rip out of his chest and throw away completely, never to be dragged out again. “I can’t even tell you how many nights I went to sleep wishing I would wake up and no longer want you in my life. Even my parents knew.” Those last four words filled him with dread and Taehyun’s resigned expression only confirmed his fears. “Half the beatings I said I got for coming home late were because I was out with you. They didn’t care about the curfew. They cared that I was out with Choi Eunwoo’s unnatural son. And maybe I should have listened. Fuck it, I wanted to listen. I wanted to cut you out of my life and never see you again. Because maybe then I’d be normal. Maybe then I could be fixed. And maybe my parents would love me.”

The tears came more insistently now, fighting to be let out, but he shoved them back and struggled to ask, “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Even the idea seemed absurd to Taehyun. “How could I possibly tell you when I could barely admit it to myself? Do you know how much it would have taken out of me? How much it hurts even now?”

“But-”

“I love you, but I can’t make that my life. It can’t be my reality.” Taehyun took a deep breath, and for the first time, appeared to steady himself into the person Yeonjun was familiar with. The one he had known since he was a child. “There’s no universe that exists where I win. And…and I’m trying to come to terms with that.”

A universe where Taehyun could be open about his sexuality, a universe where he could heal and be happy, and a universe where he could love him freely.

Everything hit him all at once, and he felt so overwhelmed, lost in the torrential downpour of confusion and feeling as though the very ground had disappeared from beneath his feet.

“If you had told me…” Yeonjun trailed off. Things would have been different. If Taehyun said something before, while they were still in school, Yeonjun would know what to say now. He would ask why that universe didn’t exist, when they could try to make it possible. Objectively, he thought he had the capacity to love Taehyun the way he loved him. Just the idea that someone like Kang Taehyun would love him seemed like something to marvel at. Taehyun, who was beautiful, and perfect, and stronger than anyone Yeonjun had ever met, loved him? It wasn’t ever something Yeonjun had even allowed himself to think about. Taehyun was his straight best friend, off limits in every single way. He couldn’t ruin their friendship, and he couldn’t try to change who Taehyun was just to see if he liked him. Taehyun had always been so accepting of him and all of his differences. He had to do the same. It wouldn’t be fair.

But what he faced now didn’t seem fair either, and it made him wonder if his choices mattered at all.

He had made his choice. He was in love right now, with someone who wasn’t Taehyun, and he was still happy. But Taehyun had made all of his own choices too, and he stood here now under the streetlights with tears in those wide sparkling eyes, and maybe a broken heart, but his chin held high, and he knew what Yeonjun was going to say.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and Taehyun’s expression didn’t change at all. It didn’t falter, or fall, because he knew already.

“It doesn’t matter,” he replied simply. And, even now still doing everything he could to comfort him, he said, “And it really never would have. It’s not your fault.” He wouldn’t have said anything, maybe not ever, if the words hadn’t spilled out of Beomgyu tonight in front of all of them. And now it was Yeonjun’s secret to keep. Then, he glanced at the parking garage behind Yeonjun, the one he had been heading towards all this time. “I’m going home. Tell Beomgyu he’s a dick.”

Selfishly, Yeonjun burned with one last question. “Can…can you just tell me something?”

Taehyun sighed, but nodded. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. Even now, when he should say no and tell him that he didn’t owe him anything, he stayed. “Sure.”

“Do you still love me? Right now?”

“Right now?” A beat passed where he considered it, and then he nodded again. “Yes. But I’m hoping the next time you ask me, the answer will have changed.”

Yeonjun nodded too. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Can I ask my own question?” Taehyun’s voice was soft now, and it drew him in. It made him wonder about things that could have been.

“Go ahead.”

He hesitated for a few moments before asking, “If I had told you at the end of third year, what would you have said?” For once, he sounded vulnerable, the question resting in the air between them, delicate like spun glass.

“At the end of third year?” His life had been fucked then, honestly, and he wouldn’t have had the energy to handle something else on top of everything he was already dealing with. “I have no idea. But if you waited until summer…” He was ready to fall in love the summer of his final year. Taehyun would have been worth falling in love with. “I guess I wish you had said something then.”

Did he wish that? He wasn’t even sure, but it felt right to say.

Taehyun looked like he expected the answer he gave. “But you’re happy now?”

What a complicated question. Especially with the prick of resentment that Beomgyu stirred in him when he reminded him that Soobin had left him alone yet again, even when Yeonjun gave him every hint that he hated it. “I’ve been happy,” he settled on, close enough to agreement that Taehyun seemed satisfied. “I want you to be happy, too,” he added quietly.

“Don’t worry too much about it.” His happiness wasn’t Yeonjun’s concern, it seemed. Taehyun almost looked like he wanted to say something else, but instead just settled on, “I meant what I said about telling Beomgyu he’s a dick, though.”

“He is a dick,” Yeonjun agreed.

“Get him home safe,” Taehyun said with another sigh. “And you too.”

It wasn’t awkward, but suffocating, trying to pretend as though this had never happened. They would, though. It was already a silent compromise between them, and with enough time, it could be fixed like anything else. “Drive carefully. I know you didn’t really drink a lot, but still.”

“I will.” Then, lingering a few seconds longer, Taehyun carefully asked, “Is your boyfriend picking you up?”

Everyone knew what had happened the last time he went out with Kai, and Yeonjun shook his head. Was it weird, the way no one would say Soobin’s name? “I’m going to call a taxi, make sure Beomgyu gets home, and maybe I’ll crash with him.”

He didn’t want to be alone tonight.

He nodded. “Cool. Um, see you later, then.”

Taehyun didn’t look at him as he walked past, but Yeonjun turned to watch him go. His hands were still in his pockets, steps deliberate and steady as always. He had never seen Taehyun waver. They had known each other for over ten years and he had never even seen Taehyun cry. The closest he had come was tonight. And what did that say? Did that mean that loving Yeonjun hurt more than being hit by his own father? Yeonjun had patched up bruises and cuts, broken fingers, a fractured wrist, but not a single tear.

He deserved someone better. Someone he could cry in front of and not feel ashamed. And Yeonjun wished he could be that person, even if he had no idea in what way. He found himself thinking that so often. All the people he loved deserve someone better than him. Soobin deserved a better lover. Taehyun deserved a second chance. Beomgyu deserved a better friend. And his parents…even they deserved a better son.

Every time he tried to become the person he thought they needed, he only ever made things worse. Taehyun had proven that much to him tonight. Being your friend isn’t easy. It wasn’t. Especially back then, and Yeonjun wished he could do it all over, but he would be just as lost and confused as he was when it happened because he never learned the right answers. No one ever tried to teach him.

Maybe that was what he loved about Soobin. It felt like he could teach him anything, and finally he had direction. He knew what he wanted, he just didn’t know how to get it. But Soobin knew. And he held his hands, and taught him slowly, and promised that it was okay to make mistakes. That they could fix them together.

It didn’t feel like he could fix what he had broken with Taehyun. And the more he replayed their conversation in his head, the more disgusted with himself he became. Why had he lashed out at him? Taehyun was hurting, torn apart as he confessed to something he never, ever would have wanted to admit out loud, and Yeonjun had the nerve to be angry with him. He was so fucking selfish, making everything about him just like Taehyun had said, and he hated himself for it. After everything he had said and done, after all of the pain and misery he had caused him, Taehyun still showed him kindness.

He didn’t even comfort him.

Taehyun had never come out to anyone, and he revealed that small broken part of himself to Yeonjun, and Yeonjun barely said anything. He bared a ragged bleeding heart to him and Yeonjun only asked if it still loved him before leaving it to fester. As if scraping over his wounded flesh with a salted knife just to make sure it remembered who he was. Taehyun should hate him. He shouldn’t just hate him, he should be disgusted by the very sight of him.

He knew what Taehyun meant when he said Yeonjun made his life hell. As someone who was trying to put as much distance between himself and the reality of his sexuality, being friends with him must have felt like the cruelest form of torture. Taehyun endured all of the relentless taunting for being gay without ever even having the choice to come out, all because Yeonjun sat next to him in class. He had to be gay if he was sitting with Choi Yeonjun, who was a freak, and a slut, and the kind of person no straight guy would willingly be seen with.

When that word first started flying around, slut, Yeonjun had just been bewildered. It didn’t make any sense. One rumor about him got out, and suddenly he was a slut? He had never even heard a girl get called something like that, let alone a guy. But as soon as he was outed, there were a hundred rumors, each more vicious than the last. Choi Yeonjun will blow you in the bathroom for twenty thousand won. Choi Yeonjun sleeps with his English tutor to get out of paying. Choi Yeonjun passed physics on his knees.

None of them were true. And they all left him feeling mutilated and worthless. He knew it was his punishment for being gay in an all-boys school, and he knew he deserved it just like his father said, but he didn’t have the strength to endure it. Taehyun and Beomgyu were forced to shoulder too much of the weight. He wouldn’t have forgiven himself for it, either, so how could he have possibly expected them to?

Ironically enough, the one lie he had told Soobin was about the one rumor that was true.

He wasn’t a virgin when they met. And he should have told him, but the words burned on his tongue, and he knew Soobin would have seen him differently.

If he were to tell the truth, then he would have to tell Soobin that he lost his virginity on his seventeenth birthday. Nearly a full year before they even knew each other. He would have to tell Soobin that one of his friends was overage at the time, a graduated senior who had been in his dance academy, and bought them drinks for the party he threw while his mom was out of the city on a business trip. She left a lot back then.

He would have to tell him that he got drunk and his senior, Park Minhwan, promised to help him get to bed at the end of the night. Taehyun and Beomgyu had passed out in a downstairs guest room. A few of his other friends slept on the couches. They were all lightweights. They barely knew how to drink. He wished they hadn’t drank at all.

He just turned seventeen and Minhwan, who was nineteen, helped him up the stairs to his room. Yeonjun remembered they had kissed earlier that night just for fun. At least, he thought it was for fun at the time. He had a crush on him back when they still went to school together, but he didn’t think he knew about it. Minhwan was probably a little drunk too, maybe, and when he helped him out of his clothes, Yeonjun still liked to think he hadn’t meant to do anything else.

When he was telling Yeonjun to kiss him again, he still liked to think it was an innocent request. That he was just messing around and didn’t mean to take it so far. It was the alcohol, it had to be.

Yeonjun didn’t want to have sex with him. He had that vague thought a few times as it was happening, and tried to say it, but must not have been able to get the words out. Otherwise Minhwan would have stopped.

He remembered most vividly how badly it had hurt. He cried a lot, to the point where Minhwan kept telling him to shut up, to be quiet, and that it would start to feel better. It might have if they had done anything right. But Minhwan tried to fuck him like a girl, and badly at that, underprepared and unsympathetic.

In the morning, somehow, they were still friends. Yeonjun pretended like it didn’t mean anything even though he could see his own blood on the sheets and Minhwan said he’d had too much to drink. It was fine.

They didn’t stay friends.

Unsurprisingly, everyone at the academy found out. The student body was only so big, nothing ever happened, and word got around fast. Choi Yeonjun was no longer a virgin. Not only that, but he lost his virginity to one of their seniors, another guy. And Yeonjun had pressured him into it.

He couldn’t escape the ridicule even if he tried. The rumors grew and changed, took more malicious forms, and hounded him everywhere he went.

The only thing to do was act better than all of them. He knew how. He had watched his mother do it for years, when everyone looked down on her for being a successful woman in the banking industry of all places. He knew how to hold his head high, how to start different rumors, the right ones, and turn the gossiping tide of the student body in his favor.

No longer being a virgin did make him desirable in a way. It made guys want him, for whatever reason. It stopped him from being off limits, maybe, and that helped. Or maybe it was just because they thought he would be easy. Everyone joked that it didn’t really count if they were with Choi Yeonjun, who was pretty like a girl and already had his cherry popped, as if it even worked like that. That didn’t make them gay. He had heard it a hundred times, and each time he tried to let it bounce off a little more. It didn’t matter. He didn’t give a fuck anymore. Even when everyone made jokes at his expense, and guys thought it was funny to proposition him just because he was gay, thinking that it meant any guy would do.

The only “jokes'' that he couldn’t shake off were the ones that dragged his friends in, too. He remembered when one of his asshole classmates, Hyunwoo, was yet again making all kinds of remarks about him and Beomgyu. It was a popular rumor that they were together, but Hyunwoo had this really fucking irritating running joke about them both being bottoms, and he would just keep asking over and over how it worked and suggesting all kinds of disgusting shit about them. Beomgyu, who was just as done with it all as him, snapped that if he was really so fucking curious, he could show him, and Hyunwoo clocked him in the face so fast Yeonjun barely even saw it happen. His lip was busted, there was blood all over his mouth. And Hyunwoo started calling him every single horrible slur he could think of.

Yeonjun broke his nose and gave him a concussion that put him out of class for six weeks. It was satisfying, but awful at the same time, and he got suspended for it.

That was right at the start of his final year, and his mother had been so disappointed. It wasn’t the first fight he had gotten in; he had promised to try to turn over a new leaf that year, and he just couldn’t do it. And she refused to listen when he tried to explain. She always did that. I don’t want to hear about anything that has to do with your personal affairs. It was her way of saying she wouldn’t hear it if it had anything to do with him being gay. Maybe it was just the rich asshole mom way of saying things. She would never say the word herself. Usually she just called it his condition. Like an illness, a chronic disease, something he would never recover from.

Soobin never believed him when he said his mother didn’t love him, but he had no idea. He knew he wasn’t an easy son to love, but it was like she couldn’t even bring herself to try.

Even when he really, really needed her to. When he was crying out of frustration because he had no one else to turn to and she still refused to listen. It was about his condition, and so she wouldn’t hear it. Even when it was about his father, and she was the only person he could talk to about it.

In the end, he just settled on, I’m not going over there anymore. She didn’t really care. She didn’t even ask why. It gave her even more excuses not to see his father, and so she agreed without much of a fight. Of course, his father couldn’t let it go, as if he somehow couldn’t understand why Yeonjun never wanted to see him again.

The one thing he couldn’t endure was the shame he brought his parents, and seeing his father just served as a constant reminder of it.

So much of the things he used to say still circled in his mind, robbing him daily of the little confidence he had tried to build up in his father’s absence.

What the hell is wrong with you? Being a freak isn’t enough, you have to land my friends in jail with your abnormality as well?

When his father essentially called him jailbait after one of his drunk friends tried to force himself on him at a horrible dinner party he had decided to host, that was the last straw. Everything was always Yeonjun’s fault. And it was his fault because he liked boys. As if that was enough to incur all the punishment in the world.

Yeonjun felt the tears streaming down his face now, and knew there was no way to stop them. So, he just leaned against the side of the building, and ducked his head, doing his best to wipe them away so as not to get looks from passersby. He breathed in and out, the sound shaky and weak, and wondered where he had gone wrong. When did his life become such a mess? Was it always like this? Did he do something, fuck up somewhere along the way, to make it like this? Or was it like his father said, and he just deserved it for being different?

He didn’t know. But recently, it only felt like things were getting worse and worse. Every day, he wanted to disappear for one reason or another. Sometimes it was his job and the way it made him look at his body. He looked in the mirror and hated himself, desperate to change everything he saw in front of him. His weight, his shape, his height, his gender. He wished he could just be a blank canvas and paint it all over again from the start. But he knew he wouldn’t be happy with the results no matter what. Nothing would ever feel right.

Sometimes it wasn’t anything in particular at all, just a cold feeling that lingered in his chest and reminded him that he was better at destroying things than fixing them.

That cold feeling settled in his chest as he realized he had just destroyed another relationship. He and Taehyun would never be able to look at each other the same way. Taehyun, who had meant more to him than anyone else for nearly all his life, now felt like a stranger, distant and unfamiliar. Was it so easy to break a friendship? Just shatter the illusion that you know one another and suddenly you see an entirely different person in front of you? Was that how Taehyun saw him now?

Or maybe he had been looking at that version of Yeonjun for a long time, the shattered, broken remains of someone he once loved and cherished but now didn’t recognize at all. Maybe that was why Taehyun stayed away from him.

Hurt, and frustrated, and gouged of all the strength he had left, Yeonjun eventually tried to collect himself enough to make his way back inside. It all seemed too loud and suffocating. Beomgyu sat dejectedly at the table they had abandoned, the regret in his eyes obvious from all the way across the room.

“It’s not your fault,” Yeonjun said tiredly before he could try to apologize. “But Taehyun would like me to tell you that you’re still a dick.”

“I’m sorry,” Beomgyu whispered anyway, and he looked like he might cry. “I wanted to take it back as soon as I said it.”

He sighed, and gently tucked Beomgyu’s dark hair behind his ear. They really did all have their own mess of problems. “It’s okay. Now let’s get you home, alright? I called a cab.”

Beomgyu nodded. “Okay,” he agreed, and let Yeonjun lead him back outside with an arm around his shoulders. They didn’t have to wait by the street for long, and soon enough, Yeonjun had him bundled in the back of the cab.

While they sat there together in the backseat, Yeonjun shut his eyes and said wryly, “What a night.”

The little laugh Beomgyu let out was sad and broken. He had a laugh for every emotion. “Yeah. I guess you could say that.” A few seconds passed, and then he asked, “Is Taehyun okay?”

“Not really,” Yeonjun answered honestly, and felt the exhaustion creeping in. “Maybe he will be, though. With time.”

They were silent for several more minutes, when Beomgyu quietly said, “I know it’s wrong, but…I guess I said it because I wanted things to go differently.”

Yeonjun opened his eyes, tilting his head to look at him. “What do you mean?”

Beomgyu glanced out the window, letting the streetlights wash his face a pale, nostalgic orange. “I guess I wanted you to say you loved him, too.”

He exhaled, eyes shut again, and tried to see it from Beomgyu’s point of view. “That wasn’t going to happen.”

“Do you really love Soobin that much?”

The words cut through him, so deep and personal that it felt like they shouldn’t be uttered at all. Now he realized why none of his friends could say his name when they were together. It made it all that much more surreal.

“Yes,” he replied tiredly. “I do.”

“More than Taehyun?” Beomgyu sounded like he didn’t believe him, as if it was impossible to even imagine.

“It’s not about loving anyone more. I love them both. It’s just different. I’m not- I’m not going to just break up with Soobin because Taehyun said he’s in love with me. It doesn’t work like that. And you would understand if you ever actually let yourself get close enough with a guy to fall in love with him.”

It took Beomgyu a while to answer this time. “Maybe,” he eventually settled on with a sigh. “I guess love scares me. I really don’t understand it.”

Yeonjun rested his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder. It was small, but it was also safe and familiar. “That makes two of us.”

When their taxi pulled into the parking lot that prefaced Beomgyu’s dorm, Yeonjun realized he really didn’t have the strength to be alone tonight after all. “Can I crash with you?”

Beomgyu looked relieved once he asked. “Yeah, for sure.” So, they collected their stuff, Yeonjun made sure he’d paid the driver through his app, and then they made the long walk up the three flights of stairs to Beomgyu’s floor.

At least he had a room to himself. His roommate had dropped out at the beginning of the first semester, and student services had yet to replace him. Beomgyu didn’t really mind. It meant he could practice music in his room without disturbing anyone. And it meant there was an extra bed for Yeonjun to sleep on.

They pushed the beds together, the way they used to back when Beomgyu came over to his house after class and stayed through the weekend. And once they were changed and under the covers, Yeonjun found himself lying awake and wishing he could go back to that time. Everything was so much simpler when he was fourteen. He was happy with himself, he had friends all around him, and his parents were together. It didn’t matter so much that he was different.

He had tried to grow up too fast. And it felt as though all the hours and days he had sped through just to be older and wiser were piled on his shoulders now, heavy calendar pages and happy memories that he could never get back. All the things he had given up for the pretense of maturity that actually meant nothing at all in the real world. He still laughed and cried and grieved, and none of it changed with age. Things didn’t get easier. They only became less important in the grand perspective of everything he had to endure.

He felt less important with time. Maybe that was what growing up really meant.

Chapter Text

无论你多我少

索爱没有跑掉

-王菲 《不得了》

It doesn’t matter how much you are or how little I am

The love has not yet run away

-Wang Fei “Unbelievable”

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

When Yeonjun eventually woke up, it was still early morning. His head felt groggy, like he hadn’t slept at all, and when he managed to open his eyes he saw that the sun had barely risen, peeking between the high-rises outside Beomgyu’s window. To his right lay Beomgyu, curled up and facing him with his phone clutched between his hands. His hair was messy, blankets still pulled up around his shoulders. The sight felt familiar. Kind of like they were kids again. But the screen reflected back his dark, tired eyes, not round and shining the way they used to be, and once again the weight of age hit him.

Beomgyu saw him looking and glanced up. “No sleep for you either, huh?”

Yeonjun shook his head. “Who are you texting?”

“Taehyun.”

“Oh.”

Beomgyu didn’t elaborate any further. He got the feeling that whatever they were texting about wasn’t meant for him to know. Instead, Yeonjun fished his own phone out from under his pillow, and was dismayed to find the screen stubbornly black. It must have died sometime during the night.

The sight of it filled him with anxiety as he realized he forgot to text Soobin when he got into Beomgyu’s last night.

“Hey, can I charge my phone?” Yeonjun asked, holding his dead phone up for Beomgyu to see.

But Beomgyu just snorted, still focused on his conversation with Taehyun. “Why, are you worried you missed a text from Daddy?”

Yeonjun glared at him. “It’s not like that.”

“That’s literally what you call him in your phone.”

“So what?”

“So, it’s annoying.”

“Well, get over it, it’s not serious,” Yeonjun huffed. “It’s just a joke. He doesn’t even know about it.”

Beomgyu glanced at him over the edge of his phone. “Why wouldn’t he know about it?”

Yeonjun shrugged. “He takes stuff too seriously. He would try to read into it or something.”

“He takes stuff seriously because he’s old.”

“Are you ever going to let it go?”

“No,” Beomgyu answered honestly, and at the very least, Yeonjun had to respect that. If nothing else. “I think it’s weird. I think the whole thing is weird. I kind of got it when you were just sleeping with him, but you saying that you’re genuinely in love with him is a whole other deal.”

Yeonjun sighed, rubbing his temple as if that would ease the headache slowly being brought on. He had barely woken up, and Beomgyu wasn’t even giving him the chance to think. “What's so wrong with me being in love with him?”

“You want me to be honest?”

Beomgyu was looking at him now in a way Yeonjun didn’t like. His eyes were round but serious, sitting up straight, and he had set his phone down. Suddenly, Yeonjun didn’t want to hear what he had to say at all.

“No,” he admitted, but sat up alongside him.

Beomgyu raised his eyebrows. “That’s too bad, because I think you need to hear it anyway.”

“Beomgyu, it’s too early for this,” Yeonjun tried, but he knew his mind was made up. Maybe it had been made up since they fell into bed last night.

“I think it’s unhealthy,” Beomgyu announced. “I think you put way too much stock in his opinion of you. I think he keeps you from hanging out with us. I think you change yourself to make him happy. You’re not even the same person anymore. And I think you know that being in a relationship with an older guy is just your way of coping with all the shit your dad puts you through, but you’re still doing it anyway.”

“Oh, is that what you think?” Yeonjun snapped, the last comment getting to him in a way none of Beomgyu’s other accusations did. Those could be disproven. Argued against. The last one…well, it was a really shitty corner to back him into. “I’m so glad you have it all figured out, then, thanks for saving me the trouble.”

“Are you pissed because I’m right?” he goaded him on, almost as if Beomgyu was trying to make him angry.

“No, I’m pissed because you and everyone else feel the need to butt your noses into my fucking relationship,” he hissed. It felt like everyone had an opinion, none of them good, but for some reason, they all had to put their two cents in anyway. “Why do you care so much?”

Beomgyu looked bewildered that he would even ask. “Because I care about you and I think being in a relationship with him has been really bad for you.”

Yeonjun turned away from him, scrambling to stuff his shit in his pockets so he could just leave. He didn’t need this right now. Not on top of everything else. He started for the door, Beomgyu getting to his feet at the same time. “You’re just mad that your perfect plan failed, and I didn’t magically end up breaking up with my boyfriend the minute some other guy confessed to me.”

“Yeah, you know what, I am mad about that,” Beomgyu declared, and firmly stood in front of the only door in the room. “Because it wasn’t some other guy. It was Taehyun. Our best friend, Taehyun. And he’s been in love with you since forever ago.”

Being in love with him longer didn’t entitle him to anything. Beomgyu made it sound like some stupid competition, and it wasn’t. His feelings weren’t part of some big game that they could all bet on and manipulate as they pleased.

“Life doesn’t work like that, Beomgyu.” He felt like tearing his hair out, even more frustrated than his harsh tone could ever let on. “So I’m sorry if you’re disappointed, but-”

“I’m not disappointed,” Beomgyu cut him off. “I’m just sick of seeing you get literally everything handed to you, and then you turning it down anyway.”

“What?”

“Do you think that all that time Taehyun was in love with you, someone else was never interested in him?”

Yeonjun could only stare for a moment, the reality of what Beomgyu said taking too long to set in. “You mean, you…?”

“Yeah.” Beomgyu crossed his arms, and his big brown eyes only looked angry and hurt. “I mean me. But telling him would make me the bad guy. Because he’s in love with you. And he has been since the day I met him. And it was so frustrating hearing him talk about you all the time and knowing you were too oblivious to ever figure it out. I used to hate you for it,” he admitted, stabbing another knife just deeper and deeper into Yeonjun’s heart.

He felt cold as he slowly asked, “You…hated me?”

“Yeah,” Beomgyu just continued to confess, and he didn’t even seem guilty as he spoke. Like his words were light and easy and didn’t feel like knives inflicting little wounds with each one thrown. “I did hate you. You had everything I wanted. You were rich, and everybody liked you, and the guy I liked was in love with you. And you took every single thing you had for granted. All your friends, all your money, everything. So yeah, I hated you.”

Yeonjun knew the ice had crept into his voice when he said, “It kind of sounds like you still hate me.”

Finally, the tiniest sliver of guilt flashed in Beomgyu’s eyes. “I don’t hate you anymore,” he spoke more quietly. “Now you’re one of my best friends-”

“I thought I was always one of your best friends,” Yeonjun interrupted, growing angrier the longer he spoke. “You never said any of this to me. I was just under the impression that we were friends, and that was it. I guess that makes me stupid, though, because I’m starting to figure out that no one is ever just my friend.”

A fire sparked in Beomgyu and he retorted, “See, that’s what I couldn’t stand. You take everything so personally and you’re always the victim.”

“If that’s what you think about me now, while we’re actually friends, then I can’t imagine what you thought about me before,” Yeonjun stated coldly, even as he felt a searing anger inside.

“I thought you were entitled! You and Taehyun both, actually, since you both had more money than me and my family have ever seen in our lives, but at least Taehyun had the decency to not patronize me.”

“When have I ever patronized you?”

“In school, you treated me like your charity case,” Beomgyu burst out, his red eyes a mirror image of the night before. “Like you were such a fucking saint for being friends with the poor kid.”

Stunned, Yeonjun didn’t even know what to say. “I never thought about it that way. I just didn’t like the way the other guys ostracized you. So I thought we could be friends because I was different, too. It wasn’t…I was never trying to make you feel bad, or less than us in some way. I didn’t even know.”

Beomgyu was crying now, silent tears that looked fragile and desperate in the early morning light. He hated that Beomgyu was crying. He was the one saying all these horrid awful things, yet somehow he got to be the one he cried. It meant Yeonjun couldn’t cry. Otherwise he would be the worse friend, always making himself the victim, apparently. “You didn’t know because you never cared about what anyone else was going through. It was just about you.”

“That-” Yeonjun’s voice broke, and he shoved down all the feelings that made him want to scream at him. “That’s not true. I cared about the two of you more than anything. I still do.”

But Beomgyu shook his head. “I don’t think that’s true, either. You care about yourself. And you care about Soobin. And that’s pretty much it these days.”

Yeonjun couldn’t say anything in his defense. Beomgyu wouldn’t hear it. So he just shut down.

“Fine,” he said flatly. “That’s fine, fuck it, whatever. I’m obviously not going to change your mind. I guess that’s just five years where I thought I had two best friends who I loved and trusted, and it turns out, neither of them actually liked me the entire time. That’s fine,” he repeated, ignoring how the words cut his throat. And he didn’t wait for Beomgyu to give him permission to leave. He was bigger- he just pushed past him. He heard Beomgyu make a sound, but he didn’t care anymore. The door opened and then slammed shut behind him.

And he was alone.

He walked until his legs hurt, desperate to get as far away from Beomgyu and campus as possible. And in his head, he was cursing everyone and everything, childishly wondering why the world was so unfair to him. Fuck Choi Beomgyu for pretending to be his friend for so long and then having the audacity to be angry with him. Fuck Kang Taehyun for making him feel like the shittiest person on earth and then walking away like none of it mattered.

Yesterday, he had loved the two of them more than anyone else in the world. If someone asked, he would have said he would die for them. He would, honestly, if it came down to it.

And now he didn’t know how to feel at all. Suddenly, there was this dark festering pit of resentment in the place where his love for both of them typically resided. He knew it wasn’t fair for him to be angry at Taehyun, but he couldn’t help it. All of this felt like his fault, somehow. As if none of it would have happened if he just lied to him yesterday and said Beomgyu was making things up.

Yeonjun would have believed him. Not because it was a good lie, but because he would have wanted to. The alternative hurt too much to consider. But in his reality now, he had to consider it. He had to think about all the pain Taehyun endured on his behalf in silence, and know as much as it killed him that there was nothing he could do about it now. He couldn’t change the past. He couldn’t even apologize, really. And that’s what Taehyun would say if he tried. He didn’t do anything. It just happened.

But never once did Yeonjun think Beomgyu hated him. He thought…well, it sounds foolish now after everything that just happened, but he thought he and Beomgyu were as close as two people could be. They fought sometimes, but always resolved it easily enough, letting their brief conflicts flicker out and reconvening when enough time passed. Even though their interests weren’t all that similar, they always had something to talk about. They leaned on each other when the other person was going through a hard time. And it had been like that for nearly six years.

To him, Beomgyu was the warmest and most comforting presence in his life. Things were easy. Beomgyu and his warm sweaters, and his cinnamon scent, and his guitar-calloused fingers were a part of him. His soft smile felt like home, as much as Taehyun’s big bright eyes or his mother’s cooking.

And now, realizing so much of it was an illusion, he just felt kind of shattered and lost. It might have been an illusion, but it was a beautiful one, and he didn’t know what to do without it.

Every time he was faced with pain these days, he turned to Soobin. Nothing else made him feel better. Soobin spoke gently, and carded his fingers through his hair, and held him tight. If Yeonjun went crying to him now, he would be kind and consoling, even if he didn’t really understand.

But strangely, Yeonjun couldn’t make his feet point home. Every time he did, he got a sick feeling in his stomach, another stirring of resentment, and he couldn’t tell if it was for Soobin or for himself. Beomgyu’s words were still spinning in his head. You’re not even the same person anymore.

He didn’t think he had changed that much. People changed as they got older, wasn’t that natural? Soobin always said he had grown out of one thing or another. He said that he used to be more difficult, more naive and uncertain of himself. Those weren’t good things. Why would he want to stay that way? If anything, Beomgyu was wrong for staying static all these years. He should be growing and changing too. That’s how things used to be. When they were younger, it felt like they were growing up together. When one of them changed, they all did. So why did it feel like no one around him was growing up the same way anymore?

As frustrating as it was, once again, he didn’t have any answers. Just speculation and wishful thinking, neither of which made him feel better. He should call Soobin. He would know what to say, even if he couldn’t hold him right now.

Distantly, Yeonjun hoped he was doing okay with his family. He hadn’t really thought about him all night due to everything else. As much as Yeonjun resented Soobin’s mother for constantly trying to set him up with people who weren’t him, he recognized it wasn’t really a fair thing to hold against her. He didn’t actually hate her or anything, and he hoped they were having a good time.

Yesterday, all he could think about was how badly he wanted Soobin to come home. And now he wasn’t so sure. A day or two to himself probably wasn’t a bad thing.

The best thing he could do right now was sleep. He hadn’t gotten any last night. He would crash, and then maybe give Soobin another call even though he knew it was risky. Soobin would forgive him once he understood why he was calling.

He ended up walking home. Their new apartment wasn’t far from campus, and even though he had wandered a few blocks in the opposite direction, it didn’t take him all that long to find his way back.

His new keys felt different in his hand. Heavier, somehow, and he wondered if that was the weight of responsibility.

Secretly, he hadn’t wanted to move at all. Well, he did but he didn’t. He wanted to be closer to Soobin. The commute to Soobin’s old apartment took too long, and after a full day of work and classes, he barely had the energy to drag himself over there. Soobin was understanding about it, but he knew he wasn’t all that fun to be around when he was so exhausted. He didn’t really like driving, either, so he always took the subway. It wasn’t expensive, but the kilometers of travel added up, and he paid more on his transit card in the last year than he had in the past four years combined.

It was more efficient for them to live together.

But Yeonjun didn’t feel…ready. The way Soobin sprang the whole idea on him seemed so sudden, even though he swore he had been thinking about it for a while. Yeonjun just didn’t feel equipped to live with him like that. They were doing it now, and they had been for a month, but he couldn’t shake the anxiety he had about taking up too much space. It still felt like Soobin’s apartment, and that he was a guest. He didn’t know how to make it his. He thought setting up a sewing room would help, but he didn’t spend any time there because there was this strange pressure to spend all his free time with Soobin. And it wasn't pressure that Soobin put on his shoulders. He just felt like, because they lived together, it would be a waste to be alone. In truth, Yeonjun doubted he would care at all. Either way, he would sit out in the living room and grade papers or read a book while Yeonjun did his own thing. Soobin was a creature of habit, and it took Yeonjun a while to realize that he was really the only force in Soobin’s life that could break him out of his routine. He didn’t know if Soobin liked that about him or not.

He sighed, and fit his key into the lock. Stirring up his pot of complicated emotions wouldn’t change anything now.

When he opened the door, the last thing he was expecting to see was Soobin’s clean leather loafers neatly stacked in the entryway.

It could only mean that he must have come home at some point. Maybe this morning, or even last night.

Seeing them once again had anxiety prickling all over Yeonjun’s skin, reawakened from the moment he had seen his dead blank phone screen; he still hadn’t gotten the chance to charge it. And he was right in thinking that he was missing something.

Cautiously, he pushed open the inner door, trying to be quiet because there was a chance Soobin was asleep.

He wasn’t.

He sat at the dining table, a mug clutched between his hands, his phone face-up in front of him, and a tired look in his eyes. It almost looked as though he had been up all night. A stack of half-written lesson plans sat on the table.

Those eyes were waiting for him, must have heard him open the door even with his best efforts to keep quiet, and Yeonjun just stood in the entryway, unsure of what to say. Soobin looked almost…angry. And he had no idea why.

Soobin never looked angry. Frustrated sometimes, sure. Disappointed. But anger didn’t suit him. It made his eyes sharp and hard, his jaw taut. Yeonjun couldn’t even look directly at him as he took a few tentative steps inside.

“You’re home early,” he greeted him, trying to sound pleasant. He didn’t want Soobin to take it as an accusation.

He did anyway. Soobin’s voice cut across the apartment as he asked, “Where were you?”

It was a cold question, and invited an admission of guilt, as though Yeonjun had done something wrong. “I went out last night. Remember? I mentioned I was going when we talked. Um,” he took another step forward, realizing it did him no good to stand frozen in the hall like a deer in headlights. “I thought you weren’t coming back for a few days. I missed you.”

Soobin didn’t buy into it. In fact, he looked less than impressed, and held up his phone. “What is this?”

The pace of Yeonjun’s heartbeat slowly began to pick up speed- he knew where this was headed. He was right to feel anxious earlier. “Um, a phone.”

“And what do we do with phones, Yeonjun-ah?”

He hated when Soobin took that tone with him. Nothing pissed him off more than his patronizing. But still, he went through the motions because he knew things would be worse if he didn’t. “Call…people…?”

“Correct. So, tell me something. If I use my phone to call you, but you don’t use yours to answer, one of us isn’t using it properly, right?”

Yeonjun felt anger begin to bubble to the surface of chest, but he forced it down, and adopted a calm expression. Anger never did him any good with Soobin. It never got him anywhere, he would be better off pounding his fists against a brick wall. Soobin didn’t know how to handle his own, let alone Yeonjun’s. “I’m sorry. My phone died sometime last night. I didn’t get a chance to charge it this morning.”

Once again, Soobin seemed dissatisfied with his answer, and Yeonjun couldn’t understand why he was so upset with him. He was being honest. “Who were you with?”

“I told you. I went out with Beomgyu and Taehyun.”

“Yes, you told me that. You also told me you were going to tell me where you went, and when you got home. But neither of those messages came my way last night.”

“I’m sorry,” he apologized again. He had said that, yes, but with everything that had happened last night, it just slipped his mind. It didn’t seem like it would be a big deal at the time. “I forgot. But we just went to a club. The one we usually go to.” The one where everything had fallen apart.

“And then?”

Soobin had set his tea down now, and Yeonjun barely recognized the expression he wore. His arms were crossed, eyes dark and piercing behind his glasses. “And then I crashed with Beomgyu.”

“You said you would invite Beomgyu to stay here.”

“I- it didn’t end up working out that way. His place was closer.” And then, something awful, but more than likely true, dawned on him. “Do you not trust me?”

Soobin raised his eyebrows. “It’s not about trust. It’s about keeping your promises.”

The lectures were the worst. He could tolerate anything else. But when Soobin lectured him, it just felt like a reminder that their relationship wasn’t normal. Every time, it made him feel like he was a kid and he was getting scolded for something he didn’t do. Soobin didn’t have the right to make him feel like that. It wasn’t his place.

“Look, I just ended up staying over there because I don’t like being here alone. You know that.”

“That’s why I came back,” Soobin replied, his voice becoming harsher. “Because you told me that you don’t like it. So how come, then, when I came back for you, you weren’t here, and I had no call, or text, or anything indicating where you were or what you were doing?”

“I-” Yeonjun could hear himself sounding more and more desperate. “How was I supposed to know you were coming home?”

“Because I called, Yeonjun,” Soobin answered swiftly, so superior it made him furious. “And texted. And did everything I was supposed to do. And yet somehow I’m the bad guy for wanting you to show me the same kind of respect. I was worried about you. But obviously you don’t seem to care. Do you think that’s fair?”

“My phone died,” he heatedly emphasized. “I don’t have any control over that. It’s not my fault.”

“When did your phone die?”

“Sometime after I went to bed. Maybe like one or two?” he answered, but even as he said it, he got an uneasy feeling in his stomach.

Soobin tilted his head. “Go plug it in, then.”

“What?”

“Go plug in your phone. If you’re being honest, then you won’t have any calls or texts from me before that time, right?”

“Hyung-” Yeonjun started, about to reason with him regarding how unfair all of this was. He was starting to sound ridiculous. But Soobin refused to hear it.

“Here, we can use the charger in the kitchen,” Soobin cut him off and got to his feet, striding into the kitchen. He seemed so sure of himself, like he knew something Yeonjun didn’t, and it made his heart beat even faster as he followed after him apprehensively.

Yeonjun avoided his gaze as he plugged in his phone, and they just stood there in silence, waiting for the light to come on and his lock screen to load up. And then, incriminatingly, two notifications appeared on his home screen.

[daddy: 8 new messages]

[daddy: 3 missed calls]

He heard Soobin sigh, voice frosty with disappointment, and Yeonjun couldn’t quite say where he found the courage to glance up at him. Soobin had his gaze fixed on Yeonjun’s phone, lips pursed and dissatisfied. “Please tell me that’s not my contact name.”

“Is that really what you want me to tell you?”

Soobin had always impressed how much he would hate it if Yeonjun lied to him. Now seemed like a bad time to start.

“Yeonjun, why are you calling me that in your phone?”

He had just finished having this conversation -argument, really- with Beomgyu, and he wasn’t interested in doing it again. “Am I not allowed to joke about you being daddy material?”

Yeonjun attempted to sound lighthearted about it, but Soobin gave him the response he expected. His expression didn’t shift, and he just sighed again, looking more frustrated the longer he stared at his phone. “It’s weird, Yeonjun.”

Crossing his arms, Yeonjun replied, “Really? Tell me why.”

“I-” For the first time, Soobin seemed caught off guard. He blinked, then adopted a frown. “I shouldn’t have to tell you why.”

“No, actually, I think you do.”

If he couldn’t even say it, then he didn’t have a right to care. Soobin had taught him that. It would be hypocritical to act any differently now.

Sounding strained, Soobin attempted to explain. “It just sounds…strange…given the nature of things.”

“The nature of our relationship, you mean?” Yeonjun pressed, refusing to give back the upper hand now that he had gained it. Soobin had completely shifted the focus away from his phone, from the messages and calls that had so clearly come in before his phone died, and it was an opportunity that he knew he couldn’t afford to miss. At least, with this, Yeonjun had some form of defense.

“I mean, in a way, I suppose so,” Soobin conceded, although he looked increasingly uncomfortable. “It just doesn’t feel right. I don’t want you calling me that.”

“I don’t actually call you that,” Yeonjun pointed out. “I’ve never called you that to your face.”

“I’m serious,” Soobin insisted. “Change it.”

His adamance felt even more hypocritical somehow. If Soobin was willing to approach him, and date him, and sleep with him, why was this suddenly the thing he had a problem with? “Is that really the line for you? Me calling you ‘daddy’ on my phone? Out of all the things you and I have done, that’s where it suddenly becomes too much?”

Soobin couldn’t look him in the eyes anymore, but his voice took on a warning note. “Yeonjun…”

“What?” Yeonjun took the lead he gave, and continued to challenge it. It was all he had. He couldn’t let go now because letting go would mean Soobin won. “I don’t understand why you feel like we have to pretend that everything is normal. Like, if you don’t bring it up, I just won’t realize that our relationship is different and kind of unconventional. I’ve known literally since we started doing this that it wasn’t going to be normal. I know how old you are, Soobin, it’s not a secret. You think I’m just so fucking oblivious to everything, though, so I never talk about it. Because I know it makes you feel more comfortable. I’m not stupid. And obviously I don’t care if it’s abnormal, I like you despite all of that.”

He liked him. He really did, when this whole thing first started. Soobin could have done anything, and Yeonjun would have pretended to be blind to it. But he couldn’t pretend anymore. Things had gone too far for him to stay silent and ignorant.

Soobin’s eyes were wide with shock, more affected than Yeonjun expected, and he wondered if he had been too harsh.

In all honesty, he just felt drained. He felt absolutely exhausted from having to justify their relationship to every single person in his life. As if it even affected them. As if it even mattered at all. He was happy. Why couldn’t that be good enough for everyone else? Sometimes, it didn’t even seem to be good enough for Soobin, who was always seeking out some flaw in himself or something that he had done wrong. Constantly, Yeonjun felt like he had to reassure him that he was a good partner and that he liked dating him, and he knew that half the time, Soobin didn’t believe him even when he said it.

There were times that he felt jealous. Yeonjun would watch other couples in his university get together, and live their lives completely free from scrutiny. They were happy with one another. And their friends and family were happy for them. Yeonjun felt like he bore the scrutiny twice as much as most people. One weight on his shoulders for his sexuality, another bearing down on top of that one for his decision to date a man significantly older than him. And of course he knew Soobin had his own struggle, not being out at all and fearful of what would happen if his family knew, but in a way, it also let him off the hook. He didn’t have to explain to anyone. No one in Soobin’s life even knew who Yeonjun was.

It hurt. And Yeonjun felt selfish for thinking it, but sometimes it seemed like Soobin wasn’t happy with him at all. Like he was keeping secrets for Yeonjun’s sake, when Yeonjun was the only one really suffering from it. It felt like Soobin made an allowance for him. As if he had met Yeonjun and carved out a tiny little space in his life where Yeonjun could fit, but kept him completely separate from everything else. He wasn’t allowed to coexist. There was that little place where Yeonjun resided. And then there was the entire rest of Soobin’s life. The two spheres didn’t overlap at all, whereas Yeonjun felt like he shared everything with Soobin. His entire world was that little place. But it didn’t make up a quarter of everything Soobin kept from him. He didn't know anything about Soobin apart from the scraps he willingly surrendered and what he observed himself. And even then there was no invitation to ask questions.

Yeonjun hated feeling like an inconvenience, and he frequently had the thought that Soobin would break up with him if he could, he just didn’t know how. He constantly lived on this tether, unable to leave on his own because being with Soobin felt safe, and he didn’t know what his life would be like without him. So, he tried too hard to please him. Even he knew it was true. He would do anything to make Soobin happy, as long as it meant he would keep him. If he had to cut himself into pieces just to fit them back together in a shape Soobin would say he loved, he’d do it without question. But even now, the shape itself eluded him. Even now, he didn’t really have an idea of what Soobin liked at all. Let alone what he loved.

In a way, he got the feeling that Soobin didn’t really know, either.

“I’m sorry for making jokes about it. If it really makes you uncomfortable, I won’t do it anymore.”

Soobin shut his eyes for a moment, and he looked just as tired as Yeonjun felt. “It’s not your fault,” he finally murmured, and when he opened his eyes again, they were softer than they had been all morning. Inky black pools of warmth and understanding that Yeonjun wished he could sink into on their best of days. “I’m sorry. I’m just frustrated, I suppose. With myself. Not with you.”

Yeonjun wanted to believe him. But Soobin always made the same apology.

“I read too much into the situation,” he went on. “Let’s just forget about it, okay?”

He swallowed back the argument rising up within him. Nothing Soobin had done today was fair. And now he just wanted Yeonjun to forget it had happened at all. Soobin was better at forgetting than forgiving.

But then he remembered what Soobin said earlier. I came back because you said you didn’t like it. Soobin had heard him on the phone yesterday, and cared about him so much that he had come home from his family trip early. Just because Yeonjun didn’t like sleeping alone.

He had only called and texted so much because he worried about him. That had to be a form of love.

Maybe he had behaved badly. Maybe Yeonjun was the one being unfair.

Yeonjun nodded. “I’m sorry. I’m going to change it. And, um, I’ll be more responsible with my phone, too.”

Soobin pulled him close and kissed the top of his head. Yeonjun closed his eyes for just a moment and let himself sink into his embrace. He let himself pretend as though everything was fine, like he was eighteen again and Soobin was the closest thing he had to safety. In a way, that hadn't changed. A scent clung to Soobin, the same one he could smell on him from the very first time they kissed. It was a warm, clean scent, like fresh laundry and summer sun.

At some point, he had begun to smell like home.

Yeonjun loved Soobin. Undoubtedly. The question had never really crossed his mind, whether it was true or not. He just sort of woke up and realized it one day. And it stayed that way for nearly two years. He loved him now. He knew some people fell in love with a specific version of their partner. They idealized a part of them, and wanted to only see that picture that they created. But Yeonjun didn’t feel like that with Soobin. He felt like he saw so many parts of Soobin, and not all of them were perfect, but he loved Soobin for the person they made him regardless.

Deep down, Yeonjun knew there was a very specific version of himself that Soobin felt drawn to. He wasn’t really sure which version it was. But it was a better version of himself than Yeonjun felt like he could ever authentically be. He was a flawed person. His pride often got the better of him, and it made him a stubborn friend, and an even worse lover. He knew that, sometimes, he set the standards too high for the other people in his life, expecting more from them than they could rationally ever give. He just set himself up to be disappointed. Nothing ever really satisfied him. And more than likely, it was the reason behind his eternal unhappiness.

He wanted more empathy from Beomgyu, understanding from Taehyun, maturity from Kai, and love from Soobin. He wanted forgiveness from his father, and nurturance from his mother.

There was always more to give, more to take, more to demand of himself and everyone around him.

He knew he said he was happy with Soobin, and he was. But it was exactly because Soobin’s flaws fulfilled his own cycle of dissatisfaction. Sometimes, Soobin held Yeonjun to a higher standard even than the one he set for himself, because Soobin believed him to believed him to be a better person than he truly was. So inevitably, Yeonjun would always fail, leaving him with nothing to do but try harder and harder every single time. It made him want to be that person, in a way. And he reminded Yeonjun that pride could only carry him so far. Soobin was proud as well, but he had no problem admitting when he couldn’t do something, or when he should have done something differently. He took pride in his beliefs more so than in his capabilities. It made him less arrogant than Yeonjun. And it gave him something to learn.

“Do you want me to make breakfast?” Soobin asked quietly, pulling Yeonjun from his thoughts.

Even the word made him nauseous.

“I think I’ll stick with coffee.”

For maybe the first time, the look Soobin gave him was doubtful. Once again, Yeonjun’s heartbeat felt unsteady, and he scrambled for justification. “Beomgyu and I had a few cocktails last night. I just feel kind of sick. I’ll eat later.”

It wasn’t a lie. And in terms of calories, each of those cocktails had cost him dearly. But last night, he drank just to feel like he was part of something.

“Alright,” Soobin relinquished lightly. At some point, somehow, meals had become a fragile subject.

That wasn’t Yeonjun’s intention. He never really wanted Soobin to worry about it at all.

They sat at the kitchen table for a while. Soobin didn’t make himself anything to eat, either, and although they were silent, the air still felt charged. “Hyung,” Yeonjun said softly, once he couldn’t bear the weight of his silence on top of everything else.

“Yes?”

The way Soobin looked at him made him feel like he had been forgiven.

It reminded him, again, that he was in love with Soobin. In love with his eyes and his lips. In love with the way his very presence made him feel. And still, he hoped that Soobin was in love with him. Hope wasn’t a strong enough word for it, not really. He wished for it, desired it, craved to just hear that one single word from him. So much so that it consumed him and forced him to the brink of desperation time and time again in a fruitless attempt to hear Soobin say it.

“What do you like about me?”

Soobin never really had an answer. No matter how many times Yeonjun asked.

“Yeonjun,” he sighed. “We’ve been over this. I like all the things about you.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is,” he insisted. “And I’m not quite sure why you refuse to believe me.”

“Tell me, then,” Yeonjun pushed, and he knew he must look pathetic at this point, but he had nothing else to go on. No other measure of if Soobin really liked him at all.

Soobin only had pity for him in his eyes. “We would be sitting here for days.”

When Soobin used to say that, Yeonjun thought it was romantic. He thought it was true. But the longer Soobin replied with an excuse rather than an answer, the more clear it became that he just didn’t have anything else to say.

Yeonjun set his coffee down. It was still too hot to drink. “Fine,” he said, getting to his feet. “Don’t tell me. I guess it doesn’t really matter, anyway.”

A heavy resentment had started to build itself inside of him a long time ago. It was the hopeless, debilitating feeling of realizing you were in love with someone who would never be in love with you. Even now, Yeonjun knew that Soobin had no intention of being with him for more than a few years. He was waiting for something else. Someone else, rather. But for now, he had Yeonjun, and Yeonjun would do just fine in the meantime.

Yeonjun used to believe that he could make Soobin fall in love with him before that someone else came along.

He no longer believed that.

“Where are you going?” He could hear the anxiety in Soobin’s voice, but refused to look him in the eyes. Only a frown and mild concern would look back at him. His coat had been slung over the back of his chair, and he pulled it on, then went to unplug his phone from the counter.

“Out. I’m going for a walk.”

“Now? You just got home.”

He realized now that he preferred it when Soobin was angry. At least then he saw some sign of genuine emotion. This calm, composed mask he wore felt impenetrable most of the time. Nothing Yeonjun could do would change how he felt. Soobin wore serenity like armor, and it didn’t matter how strong or relentless a storm Yeonjun could kick up, it would never be enough to shake him. “I can’t be around you right now,” he admitted, pocketing his phone and heading for the door.

“Yeonjun.”

He couldn’t even stand the way Soobin used his name like a command, always saying it when he wanted him to do or say something else. Always the start of a reprimand.

Although he hated to admit it, and he really fucking hated it, maybe Beomgyu had a point. His dad used to do the same thing.

Soobin had stood up, but he didn’t follow him. He let Yeonjun walk out, and that, at least, made him better than his father.

The first thing he did, once he was a good few blocks away from the apartment, was change Soobin’s contact name. The joke had stopped being funny.

But then he found himself at a standstill. He didn’t have anywhere to go. Somehow, in less than twenty-four hours, he had managed to drive all of his closest people away. For obvious reasons, contacting Beomgyu was out of the question. They probably wouldn’t talk for a while. And when they did, they would follow the same silent agreement that they always had before, where their fights simply disappeared, never to be mentioned again.

Yeonjun had no right to call Taehyun, either. It wouldn’t be fair to him. Besides, he had done his time, cleaning up Yeonjun’s messes and making excuses for him when no one else would. He had to show that he had changed somehow. Dragging Taehyun into every single disaster he made of himself would only prove that he should have learned to hate him a long time ago.

He could call Kai, but he most likely had a new roommate by now. Yeonjun didn’t want to encroach on their space. And Kai wasn’t really the kind of person whose shoulder Yeonjun wanted to lean on. He felt like, if he spent too much time around Kai, he would ruin him, somehow. Kai was pure and kind, all the things that had been scraped out of Yeonjun at a young age and replaced with meaner, stronger parts. Kai had innocence, but Yeonjun had resilience, and they couldn’t really coexist. His flaws would inevitably bleed into Kai.

It was better to keep his distance.

But he couldn’t be alone, either. Nothing scared him more than being left on his own. He had spent enough of his life that way, faced with blank walls and empty faces, and the claustrophobia of it weighed more heavily on him than sandbags.

Only one choice remained, then.

He didn’t call. He knew everything would be harder if he did, and so when he pulled up alongside the gate that was meant to preserve his childhood, but only ended up erasing it completely, he wasn’t surprised to hear Yerim’s shocked voice through the intercom.

“Yeonjun-ssi, is that you?”

“Yeah, could you let me in, noona?”

There was a pause, the silence brief but tense, and then, “Your mother will meet you at the door.”

“She’s home?”

“She is.”

Yeonjun couldn’t tell if that was the answer he wanted or not. “Okay.”

There wasn’t any reason for her to be home- it was a Saturday morning, she always spent those in one of her various financial offices, wherever her board meetings took her, but he supposed his luck typically worked out this way.

Soobin wouldn’t want him to be here. He had told him before to stay away because he might let something slip about them. Yeonjun had listened. He hadn’t seen his mother since he started university, apart from a small fight they had gotten in that summer. She said not to ask her for anything again, and he obliged. He had come back last month to pack some of his things, but he called ahead to make sure she was out of the house at the time.

A small part of him had wanted to see her then. That same feeling lingered, but it was poisoned with the anxiety that he might do exactly what Soobin was afraid of.

She was waiting by the door, just like Yerim said. Had it open, in fact, leaning against the wide frame with a cup of tea in her hands, dressed as though she was planning to attend a meeting but changed her mind last minute. Yeonjun remembered thinking as a kid that she was different from the other moms. His classmates’ moms wore floral blouses and tied their hair up neat. Their shoes were sensible, and they always picked his classmates up after school. Even Taehyun’s mother would pick him up twice a week instead of sending their nanny.

This morning, his mother wore a black brand-name blazer and a v-neck white satin shirt. Her work pants were the kind worn by colleagues twenty years her junior, and even the bravest of businesswomen wouldn’t have wanted to walk in her black scarlet-bottom heels. She had gotten her hair cut recently, even shorter and more modern than when he last saw her, and her earrings were new. In fact, Yeonjun had never seen any of these clothes before and would probably never see them again.

He didn’t associate anything permanent with her apart from the silver necklace she wore, identical to the ones both he and his grandmother owned. Aside from that, anything she owned was subject to change. And so too were her feelings towards him.

When Yeonjun left his car and approached the steps, she simply lifted her chin and remarked, “You didn’t come home for Seollal.”

A simple hello had always been too mundane for her. A waste of her invaluable time.

“I know,” he acknowledged. “I got busy with school.”

“Too busy drawing blouses on little models to come see your mother for the holidays?”

Yeonjun tried to reply with a level head. He was used to people belittling his interests. “That’s not all I do in my classes. It was the end of my first semester, so I needed a break.”

Her angled brows shot up. “Oh, is visiting me a strenuous activity now?”

“No, Mom,” he sighed. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” she replied pointedly, indicating that it wasn’t fine but she had other things to talk about. “Come sit. I have a few things I’ve been wanting to discuss with you. And now that you’ve decided so kindly to grace me with your presence, I have to take advantage of it while I can.”

After Beomgyu met his mother for the first time, he asked him the next day, “Does she always talk to you like that? Or was she just putting it on to make me feel dumb?”

Yeonjun realized then that other kids’ parents didn’t talk to them like business partners. And estranged ones at that.

They found chairs in the sitting room, and Yerim brought him a hot cup of coffee. Brewed coffee, not espresso. Rich black french press. The kind that he could always smell brewing in the kitchen when his father was still here. It tasted like home.

“How is that arts school treating you, anyway?”

A cleverly-disguised invitation for her to make as many snide remarks as she pleased. “I like it,” he answered simply. “I think I fit in. I’ve made some new friends.”

She sipped her tea, red lipstick stain permanent on all of their fine china. They would never be able to resell. As if they would ever need to. “And that’s really the extent of your academic ambition? You’re just attending a liberal arts college in Gangnam to make new friends?”

He tried not to sigh again. She hated the sound. “No. But I think it’s a nice addition to my overall experience.”

“You still have the option to reconsider, you know. I have a few connections with some excellent people working in academia.”

“What, so I can go and study economics and be miserable all my life?”

“You like economics,” she countered. “If you’re really serious about starting your own fashion label, or whatever it is, you’re going to need to know how to run a company. You’ve always shown an interest in finances and how business models work. You used to ask your father all sorts of questions, and you always wanted to stay in his study while he was working.” Yeonjun wanted to protest, to assure her it had nothing to do with what his dad’s work happened to be, but she just continued on. “You could study economics and apply that knowledge to any career path you want. You’re limiting yourself to this short-lived passion, and I just don’t want to see you flailing for direction when that passion eventually fades.”

Yeonjun sat back in his chair, arms crossed. “Why are you so certain that I won’t succeed, and won’t want to do this work for a long time?”

His mother simply gave him a look of pity. “Yeonjun, you’re a fashion major,” she had to force the word out as though it personally offended her, “currently working in advertising. I’m sorry, but it just won’t last.”

“I’m not ‘working in advertising.’ I’m a model partnered with a fairly esteemed talent agency here in Seoul and I’ve made some really valuable contacts in the industry. I just don’t get why you’re so against it.”

Finally, he had reached a point of frustration. His mother set down her teacup, maybe harder than she meant as white tea sloshed up the sides and pooled at the center of the saucer. “Because that’s not what our family does,” she answered, anger crisp and cold like frosted winter leaves. “We are not celebrities, or artists, or models. We’re meant to work in business. My great-grandfather-”

“Oh my god, I know,” he interrupted her, not wanting to hear the same speech about how they came from a line of hardworking bankers and accountants who shed blood, sweat, and tears to create an industry legacy, or whatever lecture she had prepared this time. “I get it. And I genuinely understand where you’re coming from.” He did, too, as much as he hated it. “Your concern is valid, and I know you’re only saying all of this because you want me to succeed.” Her brows remained arched, lips drawn in a thin crimson line. “But it’s not about who’s right, honestly. It’s about you letting me figure out my own path because that’s what I want to do. And maybe I would be more inclined to study business if I was given the freedom to discover a passion for it on my own. But you’ve never given me the option. All my life, you’ve just said ‘that’s the way it is’ and expected me to listen. And that just makes me want to do the opposite of whatever you push me towards. I’m just asking for the time and understanding to figure myself out. I feel like that shouldn’t be too much to want from you.”

A thick silence settled over the sitting room, as if banks of low-hanging storm clouds had gathered. But then, surprisingly, “Fine,” his mother conceded. “We can discuss it another time. Maybe once you complete your second semester.”

“Thank you,” he replied quietly. “Can we talk about something else?”

Yeonjun always had this feeling that, when he was younger, his mother wasn’t so harsh. He had good memories of her. Of the three of them, really, but those were more hazy. Once he started making the effort to forget his dad, his brain did the rest of the work for him, turning once-clear memories blurry and indistinct. But he thought, when he was really young, that his mother used to wear sundresses and walk him around the neighborhood in the summer. She would hold his hand, and have him read the street signs out. Then she would tell him the history of all the places in their tiny part of the world. If he really focused, he could recall the way she used to laugh, a warm bright sound that marked the happiest days of his childhood.

It wasn’t a sound he heard often anymore.

Occasionally, he would make a joke at the right time. Her guard would be down, she would find it amusing, and laugh the way she used to when he was a kid. The last time had maybe been sometime around his graduation. He couldn’t really remember.

“Have you heard from Taehyun recently?”

At the sound of Taehyun’s name coming from his mother’s mouth, Yeonjun felt familiarly sick. But for different reasons now. As long as they had been friends, a very small, very insecure and ashamed part of himself resented Taehyun for naturally being everything his own mother wanted in a son. Even when Yeonjun pushed himself to be more like Taehyun in an effort to win her approval, she always saw right through him and simply chalked it up to Taehyun being a good influence. Which, Yeonjun supposed was true now that he sat there looking back on it, but at the time it was beyond frustrating, and those feelings of resentment hadn’t changed. He wanted them to. Desperately, really, because he had altogether too many feelings about Taehyun at the moment, and none of them were kind or fair. They were all selfish. He wished Taehyun had lied to him last night. Everything would be so much easier if Taehyun laughed Beomgyu’s comment off at the table and went on pretending that it wasn’t true. The way he had done for years, apparently. Couldn’t he do it just one more time? So that Yeonjun wouldn’t be tormented by the memory of him nearly crying under the streetlights outside a too-loud club in Itaewon, spitting out the fact that he loved him like a curse and confessing that he would rather have never met him.

Taehyun only said it because then everything would be easier for him, too.

It was a selfish confession. But Yeonjun couldn’t accuse Taehyun of wanting to drop it on his shoulders in the first place. It wasn’t his fault. None of it was, really. Not what happened last night, not the wedge it unwittingly drove between him and Soobin, and not the unsurpassable standard set by Taehyun and now hopelessly expected of him from his mother. Taehyun hadn’t meant to hurt anyone. He had just been hurting himself for too long.

“He’s okay,” Yeonjun lied, hollow but shallow enough to be believable. “I saw him last night.”

His mother crossed her ankles, and poured herself a fresh cup from the pot that had been set out on the table. “I’ve been going on walks with his mother on Sundays, you know. He’s quite busy from the sound of it. But passed all of his first semester finals with full marks. Of course, we expected no less, but it’s still always impressive.”

We. As if his mom and Taehyun’s mom were the parental unit, and Taehyun was their only child. Yeonjun never understood how she could look Taehyun’s mother in the eyes when she knew as well as he did that she had stood aside and let his father hit him for years. In Yeonjun’s opinion, she was a cold, cowardly woman who didn’t deserve children as good as the two she had. She was also the first person to call Yeonjun a slur, funnily enough, before Yeonjun even knew what the word meant. He had a memory of being maybe eleven or twelve, and hearing her screech it at him from across their family’s garden when she saw him and Taehyun holding hands. They were only doing it because they had found a cool beetle in the hydrangea bushes and were arguing over who got to carry it back. After about five minutes of this, with the beetle growing very antsy, Yeonjun proposed they carry it together.

It was a harmless thing.

But her response to it changed him forever. He didn’t know what the word meant. And when he got home and looked it up, he cried. Up until that point, he had always had the vague idea that he liked boys, but most of the other boys he knew liked girls instead. It wasn’t something he shared once he figured out that it wasn’t normal. Not because the other kids were necessarily mean about it- they weren’t old enough to be at that point. But because it singled him out. It made him different. But he didn’t learn it was a bad thing until that day in Taehyun’s garden. He wouldn’t ever forget her tone, the shrill accusing pitch of it, the awful note of fear in her voice, or the way Taehyun wasn’t allowed to see him for weeks after that.

When they did finally hang out again, Taehyun had a bruise on his cheek. It was old and brown at that point, and he said he got hit with a soccer ball at practice. Yeonjun believed him. He didn’t have any reason not to.

“It is,” he finally murmured in agreement. How Taehyun still had it in him to be perfect, Yeonjun would never understand.

“She said that he mentioned you’re seeing someone.”

Yeonjun’s eyes went wide. “I- Taehyun’s mom said that?”

His mother pursed her lips, the news obviously displeasing to her. “Mhm. She said he mentioned it in passing when she last asked about you, and I suppose I’m just not understanding completely. I thought you two were dating.”

He felt the color drain from his face. “I hope you didn’t tell her that.”

She gave him a pointed look. “I’m not stupid, Yeonjun, of course I didn’t tell her that. I can’t imagine what would happen to poor Taehyun if…” She shook her head. “I’m just saying that from my perspective, it came as a bit of a shock.”

“I’m not seeing anyone,” he quickly replied, hoping the ease of his answer would lend his lie some credibility. “Taehyun and I aren’t dating, either, we’ve been over this. He’s straight.” It was a phrase he had told his mother over and over again, thinking it was true himself, but now it was a lie. It was strange how something so little could turn into such a heavy, awful secret. And these days, it felt like Yeonjun lied to everyone except Soobin. All the secrets kept locked in his throat felt more suffocating than sand. “I went on a couple dates with a guy a little while ago, but it didn’t work out. That’s probably what Taehyun was talking about.”

Why would Taehyun even mention something like that to his mother? Maybe he had gotten tired of always making up lies for him, or maybe he just said it by accident.

“Did you and him have a falling out?”

What a loaded question.

“No,” he answered, although he sounded unconvinced even to his own ears. “Things are just harder now than they used to be. We’re both busy. And he lives in Yongsan. We don’t really get any chances to see each other.”

“You’re allowed to tell me if you did,” his mother said quietly.

“If it matters to you so much, you can just ask him,” he retorted before thinking. Her eyes went wide.

“I’m asking you because I want to know if you’re doing alright,” she replied, and it took Yeonjun a moment to register the hurt in her voice.

He used to not be able to bear the sound of it. Now, he thought that maybe he needed to hear it.

“When have you ever cared if I’m doing alright?”

“Yeonjun-” his mother started, wearing a sad, tired expression, and he hated that, among all the people in his life, his name was only ever said in exhaustion.

“When has anyone cared?” He cut over her. “Don’t pretend to ask like it matters to you.”

“I care!” she burst out, speaking louder than he had ever heard. “I’m terrified because my son is off on his own, and that he’s cut me out of his life, and-”

Unable to hear anymore, Yeonjun pushed, “Is that really all you care about? Not how I’m actually doing, but how it affects you?”

“That’s not what I’m trying to say,” she argued, frustration in every desperate raise of her voice. “You always do this these days,” she snapped. “You always refuse to listen because you think everyone else is constantly just thinking the worst of you.”

“Usually they are and I’m right.”

“No,” she denied. “No, they’re not. And you didn’t used to be like this.”

“Or maybe I just didn’t want you to see me that way. Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think you do.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I know you better than anyone, and I know the way you’re acting right now isn’t you.”

Everyone kept saying that. Once again, Beomgyu’s words came back to him. You’re not even the same person anymore.

When Beomgyu said it, Yeonjun could pretend he was just being dramatic, and that it wasn’t true. But hearing it from his mother was different. She was right when she said that she knew him better than anyone. And if she noticed a change in him, then it was real and he couldn’t just run from it.

Before he could even think of what to say, she asked quietly, “Have you seen your father recently?”

Yeonjun had no idea why she would even bring him up now. “No. I haven’t even spoken to him in ages.”

He had been strangely silent for months now, only ever reaching out with the odd text here and there. Sometimes he asked Yeonjun to send him money for one thing or another, and Yeonjun did because it was easier to pay him than to talk to him. And even though he knew what he was doing with the money, he couldn’t cut him off.

It was pathetic, but he kept doing it because it gave him a role in his dad’s life. Not a big one. One he could probably replace if he wanted to. But for some reason, his dad kept turning to him, and not someone else. Most likely because he knew he was easy, but Yeonjun could trick himself into thinking it was his way of staying connected to him.

Yeonjun had been the one to cut him out of his life, and he was ashamed that he wasn’t strong enough to keep it that way.

“We’ve talked here and there,” his mother said tentatively.

Yeonjun frowned. “Why?”

He had never met two people who disliked each other more.

She shrugged. “He’s working on himself, I think. Trying to put things back together. I’m just…trying to support him, I guess. I only brought it up because he said he was planning on calling you.”

“Tell him not to bother.” He didn’t like that they were talking. He knew how his dad was with words, and he didn’t want his mom to fall back into the same trap.

“Yeonjun, don’t be so hostile.”

He glanced sharply up at her. “I’m not being hostile. I’m being rational. It wouldn’t be good for either of us, so I don’t know why he would even want to in the first place. He doesn’t even like me.”

“He’s never said that,” she disagreed, and Yeonjun knew they were about to retread the oldest argument they had ever had.

“He doesn’t have to say it!” Yeonjun argued, almost in disbelief that she couldn’t see what he saw. “He’s always hated me. He thinks I ruined his life.”

The frustration returned to her voice. “He doesn’t hate you. He just doesn’t understand you, it’s not the same thing.”

“Well, I don’t understand him either, but I wouldn’t tell him any of the horrible things he’s said to me.”

“He’s from a different time, Yeonjun-ah.” She sounded tired. “You have to see things from his point of view-”

“That’s not a good enough excuse!” He burst out, sick of people being let off the hook just because they were older, or grew up in a time where doing and saying cruel things to people who were different was not only okay, but encouraged. “He’s never once tried to see it from my point of view.”

“That’s because you’re the outlier, Yeonjun,” she retorted. “And it takes people a while to get used to.” She lifted her chin as she admitted, “I’m still not used to it.”

“I know,” he muttered.

“I just…well, I suppose I just don’t get it,” she tried to elaborate, but it only ever made things worse. “Why would you choose to engage in relationships with men when you know it’s only ever going to make your life harder?”

“I wouldn’t, if it was actually a choice,” he replied with a sigh, sounding repetitive even to his own ears. Yet another conversation they had beaten to death already. “I don’t actually like making my life hell, you know. If I thought I could be happy at all, I would be dating a girl right now, and we would have never had this conversation.”

“I don’t understand why it’s so different. Why can’t you be happy?”

“Because it just doesn’t work like that, I don’t know. I’m not attracted to girls. I can’t force myself to be attracted to them, and it’s nobody’s fault, it’s just the way I am.”

“Well, your father thinks it’s his fault,” she said pointedly.

“Why would he even think that?”

“He…” She looked hesitant now. “He thinks we weren’t strict enough with you. He thinks that if we disciplined you better, you would be…”

“Straight?” he finished for her, unable to even comprehend the logic behind what she was saying.

“More normal,” she amended, as if saying it that way made it any better.

“You have to know how ridiculous that sounds.”

“I don’t know…” She sounded even more uneasy as she admitted, “I’ve been talking a bit with Taehyun’s mother about it. They used to think he might be…like you, you know, when he was younger. But they were very clear about what was and was not okay, and now he’s just fine.”

Yeonjun could barely even sit there and listen anymore.

“Are you saying you wish you had hit me?”

“No!” Her voice sounded appalled but her eyes looked guilty. “I’m just trying to explain your father’s side of things. He feels responsible, in his own way.”

“He’s responsible for a lot of shit, but me being gay isn’t part of it,” he stated sharply, and finally found the strength to stand. “This was such a stupid waste of time,” he muttered bitterly to himself, and walked out of the sitting room.

His mother followed after him, but he just kept walking. “Yeonjun, I’m sorry if I upset you,” she was trying to say. “That came out wrong. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you.”

“It’s worse when you lie about it, honestly,” he told her as he found his coat and shoes. “Don’t bother. I’m sorry I came here.”

She protested, and tugged at his sleeve to get him to stop, but he wasn’t listening anymore. Once he was out the door, she stopped. She let him walk away, and he could feel her watching him get in his car and leave. He wouldn’t look at her. He couldn’t. He knew that if he did, he wouldn’t find any traces of the person he used to trust more than he trusted himself.

When you’re a child, your parents are all you have. They give life, but they continue to give more and more with time. They’re the first and last word on anything, the people who you have to love and trust unconditionally, and are supposed to do the same in return. With time, their responsibilities change.

And with enough of it, sometimes they can stop being parents entirely. Yeonjun no longer saw his parents as his mother and father. He saw them as people. Two separate people, distinct from one another and distinct from him, and who they were as people influenced who they were as parents, all of their best traits poured into trying to raise him, but it also felt like they played their roles as mother and father for as long as they could before their energy for it flickered and faded, and Yeonjun was just left with everything else that they had. His mother was nurturing and protective. She kept him sheltered from so many bad things early on in his life. But the woman who was his mother had exhausted those traits of herself. Used up entirely, Yeonjun could see now that it didn’t come to her naturally. She was tired of being a mother. As a woman, she wanted other things now. She was hasty, and competitive, and so strong-willed it made her difficult to talk to.

Yeonjun saw those traits in himself. He knew where they came from, and as much as he resented them, he knew they couldn’t be escaped. He’d like to say he was nothing like his parents, but he knew it wasn’t true.

He saw pieces of his father in himself, too. He would never admit it out loud, not to anyone. Somewhere in his early teenage years, it became his worst fear that he would grow up to be like him. But still, he had. His terrible volatile temper, his unwavering selfishness, the way he treated the people around him like they were disposable…that all came from his father.

He was good at telling lies, too, but Yeonjun wasn’t sure anymore if that came from his father. Or if he had learned it from someone else.

Soobin really was a better liar than anyone else Yeonjun knew. And it took him so long to see it.

He didn’t want to go and apologize to Soobin. Even if Yeonjun was the one in the wrong, he couldn’t do it. He was still angry. In all honesty, he felt like the only person in their relationship sometimes. Soobin was there, but he wasn’t with him. He didn’t want to be with him. He wanted to be somewhere else, with someone else, and he just expected Yeonjun to cope with that.

For now, he was good enough. He satisfied Soobin. But he knew it wouldn’t stay that way forever. Someday, Soobin would realize that he wanted more. He didn’t now only because Yeonjun was the first man he let himself be with. But once his fear eased, and he began feeling comfortable, Yeonjun knew he would be in trouble. Soobin would let him go, maybe gently or maybe not, and the idea of it terrified him.

He couldn’t just leave. He had already given up so much to be with him. He needed Soobin to keep him.

That made him angrier than anything else. It made him feel pathetic and worthless, like he was always groveling at Soobin’s feet for some scrap of attention. Led on by the dangling promise of his affection.

Yeonjun could end it.

He could simply take the power out of Soobin’s hands. If he was the one who put an end to everything, then he wouldn’t be the one left crying over it.

The sky opened up as he drove, and it began to rain. A light drizzle at first, misting the windows and taunting him with whether or not he would need to turn on his windshield wipers. And then it became an intense downpour all at once, harsh drops and heavy winds carrying him all the way back to the apartment, where he should have just stayed in the first place.

───────✧❁✧───────

Soobin sat at the table for a while. He couldn’t find the strength to go anywhere else. He hadn’t slept in thirty-six hours, but sleeping now seemed impossible.

Last night had been one of the longest nights of his life. First that awful fight with his mother, and then the intense panic of coming home and realizing he had no idea where Yeonjun was and if he was safe.

It wasn’t panic at first. Soobin was mildly concerned, but he had full faith that Yeonjun would eventually call or text or something, just to let him know that he was alright. When it began nearing midnight, Soobin finally caved and sent him a text. When that garnered no response, he called. He figured it would be reasonable for Yeonjun not to see his text- he said he might go to a club, and clubs were raucous and chaotic, and it would be easy not to feel his phone vibrate. So, Soobin called, but once again, received no response.

He waited a while. Then texted again. Nothing.

The cycle repeated for a few hours. And despite what Yeonjun so vehemently insisted earlier, his worry had nothing to do with whether or not Soobin trusted him. That wasn’t the problem. He didn’t trust other people. Some people were sick, and cruel, and wanted to hurt others just for the hell of it. And somehow, Yeonjun believed himself to be completely invincible. Soobin always admired his confidence, but this was different. It wasn’t safe for him to just disappear without a trace, especially now when he had an even higher profile than he did before.

It never seemed to register in Yeonjun’s head that he was a celebrity. Not to the highest degree, but more often than not, whenever they went out together, as rare as it was, someone recognized him. He featured in high-label fashion campaigns, and found himself on the pages of prestigious magazines. He modeled collections for ul:kin and Kuho. And after doing campaigns with Soko and Glow, he had videos and pictures up in cosmetic stores across the city. If people didn’t recognize him from that, then they knew his parents through one form or another. He was an important person. A desirable person. The kind that others might want to hurt just because he was beautiful and successful.

Which was why Soobin couldn’t understand how Yeonjun seemed so oblivious this morning, completely missing the point of what he was trying to say. Soobin wasn’t angry with him, at least not at first. He was just scared and worried, and wanted him to come home. But when he did come home, so very nonchalant and breezy about the whole thing, Soobin had to admit he did get angry. He was angry, because it felt like Yeonjun didn’t care at all how much anxiety he caused him, and he was angry because Yeonjun immediately tried to paint him as the villain in that situation. He didn’t ask why Soobin had come back. He didn’t even say he was happy to see him, or apologize for not keeping his promise.

He just accused Soobin of not trusting him, which was so frustrating, because it wasn’t about Yeonjun at all. But Yeonjun couldn’t understand that things weren’t the same as they had been two years ago, when he was just a carefree student running around with his two little friends with their us-against-the-world mentality. He was an adult, with a career and responsibilities, and he needed to learn how to act like one. And if he couldn’t do that, then some of the freedoms that came with those responsibilities needed to be re-negotiated.

After he stormed out this morning, Soobin just felt lost, unable to pinpoint exactly where he went wrong. They had resolved things, albeit precariously. But something just set Yeonjun off, and Soobin had no idea what. One minute, they were having a conversation, and the next Yeonjun was on his feet and out the door. He didn’t even give Soobin the chance to stop him, or ask why he was leaving. He just stood up, announced he was going, and then he was gone.

I can’t be around you right now, he had said, and said it so simply. As if that was good enough. As if he could say that and just leave, and expect Soobin to be okay with it.

Sometimes, it seemed like Yeonjun couldn’t be around him at all. He always had an excuse, a reason to be out and away, even after they started living together. Being avoided hurt more than being rejected. It was a silent act of cruelty, completely purposeful, but done in such a way where Soobin couldn’t call him out on it, otherwise he would look paranoid.

He just didn’t know what he had done wrong, and even if he asked, he knew Yeonjun wouldn’t tell him. He was too proud.

After a couple hours of nothingness passed, Soobin eventually found himself sleeping on the couch. It was a quick, restless nap that didn’t really solve anything at all. But at least it helped pass the time. When he woke up, he felt a bit groggy, and nearly called out for Yeonjun before remembering that he wasn’t here. And after a quick check just to verify that he was still alone, Soobin resigned himself to an afternoon in solitude. He made more tea, settled back on the couch, and started a new book. All he could do was wait.

It was raining outside. He could hear it pounding overhead. A glance out the window confirmed the sky was a despondent, heavy slate gray, dense with grainy rainclouds. Droplets pelted against the balcony door in a nonsensical pattern, cold and meaningless. Racing one another to reach a flat bitter end.

He waited for a long time. Even as he read, none of the novel’s story stayed in his head. The words seemed stuck to the page, unable to be absorbed or digested. He couldn’t make himself care about the protagonist, or their conflicts, or even the world that they were in. But he kept reading just to give himself something else to think about.

When Yeonjun finally did return, he came in just as he had left, like a spiraling spring storm, sweeping through everything in his path. Soobin sat in the living room, and even he felt the force of the door slamming shut, heard their coats fall to the ground, and saw the meticulously-hung photo frames rattle.

It took the storm a moment to hit him, but Soobin knew that when it did, he wouldn’t be able to meet its strength.

Yeonjun found him first. Standing in the door frame, he saw Soobin still sitting on the sofa, saw the book open on his lap, and just made a dry sound of disappointment. “For fuck’s sake,” Yeonjun muttered, then turned to leave, as if he planned to simply lock himself in their room and stay there.

“What is your problem?” Soobin asked, shutting his book as he decided he would be fanning the flames after all. Anything was better than hostile silence. If he let Yeonjun shut himself away now, they might not recover.

“Everything,” Yeonjun burst out immediately, the answer already on the tip of his tongue. “Everything is my problem and no one else seems to give a shit.”

He could never just give a straight answer, even when it was all Soobin asked for.

“You’re being dramatic,” Soobin replied flatly. “Come here.”

“Why is it that whenever I’m upset about something everyone just says I’m being dramatic or childish?” Yeonjun retorted, and stayed right where he was standing, arms crossed over his chest. “Why are my feelings less important than everyone else’s?”

“That’s not what I’m saying.” He tried to sound patient. He thought maybe that was what he had been lacking this morning. “I’m just saying that there are better ways to handle whatever you’re feeling than slamming doors and cussing people out.”

Contrary to reconsidering his actions, Yeonjun had the complete opposite response to what Soobin was expecting, flaring up as soon as he finished speaking. “Just because you never get angry doesn’t mean that I’m not allowed to.”

“Once again,” Soobin said, voice a bit tighter this time, “You’re taking my words and twisting them into things I didn’t say.”

“I learned it from you,” Yeonjun bit out, and that one actually stung.

Soobin’s patience ran out then, and he got to his feet. “Seriously, what the fuck is your problem today? It’s like this attitude of yours just came from nowhere.”

“It didn’t ‘come from nowhere,’” Yeonjun viciously hissed. “I am just tired and fed up with everyone treating me like I’m less of a person because I’m different from them. Because I’m too young, or too gay, or too fucking emotionally unavailable. I don’t owe anyone any other version of me. Not you, not my parents, and not my friends.”

Indignant, Soobin shot back, “I never said you owed me anything, don’t drag me into whatever this is about.”

“Well, that’s what I do, isn’t it? I just drag you into everything, and you hate being with me, but you’re too nice to end it, right?”

The accusation hit like a punch to the gut.

He felt his heart drop as things began to rapidly spiral out of his control. “No, that’s not right at all,” he protested. “Why- why would you think that?”

Soobin rarely ever stumbled over his words. It scared him to hear himself doing it now.

Yeonjun’s eyes looked red, but he kept his chin lifted. “You can’t even tell me that you love me.”

“Yeonjun-”

“Why is it so hard?” he cut over him, words jagged and sharper than a knife. “What part of just telling me that you care about me is so difficult for you? Or why you even want to be with me at all? Why can’t you say any of that?”

“Because I’ve never felt that way about anyone before!” Soobin finally shouted the truth back at him, watching shock take over Yeonjun’s face. He didn’t actually expect Soobin to be honest. But if honesty was what he wanted so badly, then he would get it. As cruel and brutal as it was. “And- and part of me feels like a bad person. For feeling that way about you.”

Yeonjun looked broken and bewildered, unable to understand Soobin’s guilt. “Why?”

Soobin felt too vulnerable, standing there with nothing in between them but empty air. He couldn’t look to the floor or the ceiling, couldn’t look anywhere but Yeonjun’s piercing eyes because it would be a sign of weakness. “I think you know.”

Yeonjun did know, but he hated his reason. “That’s not good enough. You can’t just-” His frustration got the better of him. “Soobin, you can’t just do all of this -ask me out, and move in with me, and everything- and wait for someone else to give you permission. Like that makes it more okay somehow. I’ve given you permission. I want to be with you. Isn’t that all you should care about?”

“Why, then?” He asked the question himself, growing more defensive now. “If it’s so easy, then tell me. Why do you want to be with me?”

“Because I like you!” Yeonjun retorted, as if it were the most simple thing in the world. “Because I love you. Because you’re important to me, and because I’m happy when I’m with you. It’s not hard! It’s really fucking not, actually, and I don’t understand why you can’t say any of that to me.” And then, Yeonjun shrugged, anger frozen over, that cold front Soobin hated blowing over him with a simple change in the winds. “Unless it’s not the same for you.” And he sounded so nonchalant even though Soobin knew he was breaking his own heart. “Unless you really just don’t feel that way about me, and I’m stupid and naive for wasting my time trying to make you love me. That would be my fault, I guess.” Then he pinned Soobin with his fierce dark stare and asked a simple question. “Do you want to break up with me?”

He was giving him the out. Being the bigger person between the two of them, more mature than Soobin who only ever accused Yeonjun of not meaning what he said and of being too sensitive. But rather than grant him relief, it terrified him. His throat felt dry, too dry to speak, and it cracked as he said in a panic, “No, I don’t want that at all. Yeonjun, please, don’t- please don’t think that.”

Yeonjun didn’t believe him. And Soobin had no idea how to convince him that he was telling the truth. Of course he didn’t want to break up. Even thinking those two words made him feel sick, a nausea more intense than the motion sickness he faced as a kid taking control of him and threatening to send his thoughts and stomach into a cold dark spiral.

But if he told Yeonjun that he loved him now -however true it may be- Yeonjun would call him insincere. Soobin had missed too many opportunities to say it, to mean it, and now it didn’t matter at all. It meant nothing to him.

Soobin had taken a boy who was innocent and enamored with every wonder in the world and made him cold and cynical. The very idea of love used to be a fantasy of Yeonjun’s, and Soobin had turned it into a form of torture. In a way, he had accidentally destroyed the parts of Yeonjun that he loved the most.

“Yeonjun, please.” Soobin said it again, quiet and desperate, pleading with him to listen. He took a step forward, and tried to draw Yeonjun’s hands into his own. Yeonjun let him, but his wrists were limp and he just watched Soobin, an accusatory hurt in his eyes. “I don’t want that,” he repeated in a whisper, words meant only for him. “I don’t ever want that, please don’t say it. I promise that it’s not true. The way I feel about you…” He exhaled, and pressed his forehead to Yeonjun’s, eyes falling shut. “It’s new to me, and it scares me,” he admitted. “And I know it’s new to you too, but I’ve lived longer and I’ve built up habits and prejudices that I’m still learning how to break. It’s harder than I thought it would be. But I wouldn’t be trying at all if I didn’t care.”

“If you didn’t care about what?” Yeonjun whispered, breath soft and warm.

“If I didn’t care about you.”

It was enough, at least. It wasn’t even close to the confession Soobin wanted to give him, the one that he deserved, but Yeonjun accepted it anyway.

When he kissed him, it was gentle and scared, as if Yeonjun thought he was fragile and on the verge of breaking. Maybe he was. Soobin felt closer to tears now, so terrified by the thought of losing him, than he had ever been in his adult life. Yeonjun was his. He needed him like he needed air. He was warmth and safety and comfort, and all the things Soobin could never find on his own. Yeonjun was his light and joy, and if he left him now, Soobin wouldn’t recover. He would just retreat back into that cold lonely place he had resided for years, the place only Yeonjun had managed to bring him out of.

It wasn’t fair. Yeonjun didn’t need Soobin like Soobin needed him. And yet he stayed, desperate for love and whatever else Soobin had to give, even though he could get the same thing from anyone.

Soobin was the person he loved first. But he most likely wouldn’t be the one he loved forever.

Eventually, there would be someone else, and knowing that only made Soobin all the more desperate to keep Yeonjun for himself for as long as he could.

“Please say you’ll stay,” Soobin whispered against his soft lips. He kissed Yeonjun once, drew his bottom lip into his mouth, as if he could convince him by touch and taste. Yeonjun’s hands were on his biceps, clutching him close, and Soobin murmured, “I need you.”

That was all it took. Yeonjun was his, made for him in every way. The angel to forgive his sins.

“Hyung…” Yeonjun’s voice trailed off, conflicted by Soobin’s desperation. Another heavy burden placed on his shoulders. He bore it without complaint, even though Soobin knew he was suffocating him. He knew, but he wouldn’t do anything to change it. Yeonjun completed him; Soobin knew it, and that was why he couldn’t let him leave. Yeonjun’s freedom would be his undoing.

“Please,” Soobin murmured again, kissing him sweetly, deeply, persuading him with his mouth. Yeonjun kissed him in return, let Soobin lick into his mouth and poison him with the promise of love. The grip on his biceps grew tighter as Yeonjun fell for the same trap he always did. Soobin would feel guilty if only he really thought he was doing something wrong. It didn’t feel wrong.

Yeonjun didn’t make any more promises, but his fingers moved to the buttons on Soobin’s shirt, and that was a good enough sign that he had won. Of course, now Soobin had to hold up his end of the deal. He had to make Yeonjun feel loved. And that was the hardest part.

Put simply, Yeonjun would never be satisfied. Soobin could take care of him, offer him a shoulder to cry on, give him the guidance he so desperately craved, and fuck him to that beautiful brink between bliss and torture, but it would never be enough. There would always be something more, something Soobin couldn’t give, something Yeonjun himself couldn’t name. It kept him hungry, the sharp edge of a tormenting addiction that he couldn’t kick.

Soobin didn’t want to say it was a lust for suffering. More than anything, it was the conviction Yeonjun held that he was undeserving of happiness.

As he worked the buttons on his shirt open, Soobin’s hands found a place on his narrow hips. They felt sharp and fragile, like they would break if he squeezed too hard. At that notion, Soobin conceded that maybe it was a lust for suffering after all. Yeonjun broke himself down with no intention of ever fixing the damage. And that’s why he needed Soobin. Maybe Soobin couldn’t repair the detriment he caused himself, but he could steer him away from harsher forms of degradation. It terrified him to imagine what Yeonjun might turn to if Soobin wasn’t in his life. Worse men, certainly, who would use and abuse him without reservation. He would make it so easy. And they would introduce him to all kinds of self-inflicted punishments. There was already a history of drug abuse in his family.

The descent was slippery, but Soobin knew he could make even that look as graceful as it was destructive.

No, Yeonjun needed him. Even if he wouldn’t say it. Soobin was saving him, in his own way. He kept him clean. Yeonjun would never veer onto that path for fear of disappointing him. And even if Soobin satisfied the void his father left behind, so be it. He really didn’t care anymore. He would fill any role he had if it meant Yeonjun would stay.

Soobin let Yeonjun slide his shirt off his shoulders, then pulled him closer by his hips, and felt the way his stiffening erection poked at his thigh in interest through his jeans. Yeonjun liked the rough treatment. He liked to be tossed around, and have his hair pulled, and admire the bruises Soobin’s big hands left on his body. But he never wanted to be degraded. A heavy hand was better than a harsh tongue, and it took Soobin a while to learn that. And it was such a tricky balance, too, because the words came so easily to Soobin. And when he picked the right ones, Yeonjun cried in such a pretty way, it was hard to remember that he was hurting him.

It wouldn’t do any good to hurt him now. Everything was already so precarious. Instead, Soobin broke away from him, gathered the hem of Yeonjun’s shirt in his hands, and said gently, “You’ve had such a long day, haven’t you, baby? Are you okay to keep going?” He found control with those few simple words, bringing himself down from the fear and panic of just a moment ago.

Yeonjun blinked and nodded, and looked so furious about it, the fact that Soobin would even ask, like he might cry anyway. That was fine. Soobin would kiss his tears away and pretend they didn’t turn him on. His angry tears were sweeter than any other kind.

“Poor thing,” he murmured while lifting his shirt over his head and tossing it aside with his own. As he moved, he began to steady. Putting himself back together through Yeonjun’s touch.

It was funny, considering he was the one who nearly fell apart just a few minutes ago. Maybe the most discomposed he had ever been in front of Yeonjun. But if Soobin made Yeonjun the fragile one, then they could forget his outburst entirely. Soobin wasn’t made to cry in front of Yeonjun. His parents taught him that it wasn’t good for boys to cry at all.

“Did you see your mother?” Soobin asked, and the words were laced with an underlying pity, but only he could tell, breathed against the shell of Yeonjun’s ear. Yeonjun nodded again. “Did she welcome you? Was she kind?”

He knew the answer. He only asked to reawaken his pain, so Soobin could direct his anger somewhere other than himself. So when Yeonjun gave a sharp shake of his head, Soobin couldn’t even pretend to be surprised. He kissed his forehead, then his nose. “I told you she wouldn’t be.”

He told him months ago. Yeonjun would save himself so much pain if he just listened to him.

“I should’ve never gone over there,” Yeonjun whispered, sounding more resentful than anything else, and Soobin secretly agreed. Simply put, his mother scared him. The repercussions of what someone in her position, with all her money and influence, could do if she found out he had corrupted her precious son would not be light. The best thing for Yeonjun to do was stay away from her entirely. And now, at least, it seemed like they were on the same page. If Yeonjun kept burning bridges, it would mean Soobin was all he had. And that was better for him, really.

“It’s okay,” Soobin consoled him tenderly, placing a kiss on his lips. “You’re home now.”

Home was with him.

He knew Yeonjun had forgiven him entirely when tilted his head up to capture his lips more fully, fingers tracing up and down the bare expanse of his back. Soobin had never met anyone with electricity in their fingertips, but the way Yeonjun touched him always sent sparks along the arc of his spine, as if he couldn’t get enough of Soobin even when they had had each other one-hundred times over.

When they first kissed, Yeonjun was sweet and scared, like a pure little doe venturing out of the woods for the first time. Soobin remembered he had nearly lost control, devouring something he shouldn’t have without restraint, and that was the first time he realized just how much power Yeonjun held over him.

Yeonjun didn’t kiss like that anymore. His mouth was hungry and desperate, maybe using Soobin to prove something, to prove that he knew him better than anyone else, and he would be right. He was just as powerful as he had been all those months ago, more so now as Soobin not only found him captivating, but realized he himself was fully captive. Yeonjun had something Soobin would never replicate on his own: he loved him. Yeonjun loved him, was the first one to love him, and because of that, Soobin couldn’t let him go.

Even when his touch nearly burned. The way Yeonjun’s fingers dug into his back felt rough, not the gentle touch of a lover like Soobin was accustomed to from him. Now, Soobin could feel his nails pressing sharp little crescents into his skin, palms hard and demanding as he pressed their bodies as close as they could get. As if he was the target of all of Yeonjun’s frustrations. Maybe even the cause of them, and if so, then he supposed he could endure his punishment.

If Soobin touched Yeonjun the same way, he would feel like he had done him some awful wrong. It could be his own prejudice, casting himself in the role of Yeonjun’s protector, but the feeling would linger nonetheless. It was a consequence of their age gap, he knew. Yeonjun could hurt him but Soobin wouldn’t ever do the same. He couldn’t express his own anger, no matter how much Yeonjun had upset him today. Even if Yeonjun asked, Soobin knew he couldn’t do it, not really. Not with the same unbridled frustration. The same freedom.

Just one of the many things that unbalanced them, he supposed, but he would endure it.

Those hands that had been stroking along his bare skin found their way up to his hair, twisting forcefully as Yeonjun whispered, “I hated the way you were talking to me earlier.” It seemed as though Yeonjun was seeking control as well, both of them taking power as a front for vulnerability. It was a different game, then, the one they would be playing tonight. Not the game of tears and comfort. But the one for control, their own twisted form of power play.

He pulled at his hair hard enough to hurt, and Soobin sort of liked his strength. “I know.”

Yeonjun kissed him with the same force before breaking away again to say, “You wanted to make me angry.”

“Do you think so?”

He did. A bit, at least. Yeonjun was such a wildfire that the mask of apathy he sometimes adopted felt like the most direct fuck you he could throw at him. It was cold and cruel, and so very intentional on Yeonjun’s part. He wore it this morning as an act of defiance and Soobin needed to break him down. He had spent the entire night in a state of near mania trying to figure out why Yeonjun wasn’t responding to any of his calls or texts, and he had the nerve to walk in this morning and accuse Soobin of being too controlling, all while wearing that frigid mask he hated so much.

“Yes.” Yeonjun bit him this time, dragging Soobin’s lip between his teeth before slipping his tongue back in his mouth. Soobin liked his fire; he always had. It made Yeonjun burn hot and provocative, the complete opposite to himself.

They fit together that way. No matter what else happened, that would never change. Yeonjun first and foremost to him was sex. Now he was love, too, but that came with time. Time had nothing to do with how badly Soobin wanted to fuck him. It had been that way from the start, and it was still that way.

Soobin slipped his hands past the waistband of Yeonjun’s jeans, brushing his thumbs over his protruding hip bones and roughly grabbing his ass. “I think you like me better when I’m not talking,” he murmured, and let his hands do the talking for him.

“Sometimes I do.”

That wicked little tongue of Yeonjun’s cut sharp and cruel when it hit and Soobin didn’t like it. He hated Yeonjun for it, and because of that, he loved it. Yeonjun could get away with his silver barbs because he stood there so pretty and poured his words like sticky syrup. Malice drenched in honey, what a treat. On anyone else, the trait would be unbearable.

But on Yeonjun, it just tasted like cinnamon candy. Sweet enough to burn your tongue. A medicine better in small doses, but Soobin just couldn’t stop reaching for more.

“You want to know a secret?” he whispered against his lips. Slowly, they had begun to make their way into the living room. However, he had no expectations of them actually getting to the couch.

“Always,” Yeonjun breathed, and Soobin knew he was being honest. Nothing seemed to interest Yeonjun more than Soobin himself.

“Sometimes, I don’t like you at all.”

It felt good to say it out loud, and lash out at him with an ounce of the same pain Yeonjun always cut him with under his breath.

Yeonjun’s little laugh was bitter, and he didn’t say anything, just pressed his mouth to Soobin’s throat and sucked a rough, angry red mark into his skin. The fingers in his hair didn’t relent, only kept him at the right angle for Yeonjun to mark up his neck and his shoulder. His mouth was hot and wet, teeth sharp and mean, biting even when he didn’t need to. Soobin shut his eyes, holding Yeonjun tight to steady himself. The sensation managed to pull a low moan from his throat, and Yeonjun quickly covered his lips with his own, slick with spit, stealing the sound from him.

He wasn’t loud. He never had the freedom to be. Having led a life of sexual dissatisfaction, it didn’t come naturally. But he couldn’t help himself even if he wanted to with Yeonjun. He liberated him that way, made him moan, growl, and curse his name, and that pleased Yeonjun more than anything. Just as Soobin wanted to be the one thing holding Yeonjun together, Yeonjun desired nothing more than to break Soobin apart.

Somehow, still, they were both destructive.

When his hands finally slipped out of his hair, Soobin thought he would get a moment of reprieve, but Yeonjun had no intention of letting him catch his breath. He only touched him with renewed intent, drawing desperate dizzying circles up his back and over his chest, as if Yeonjun was trying to get his hands on every inch of his body.

“If I told you I already knew…” Yeonjun murmured into his mouth, kissing him once before continuing, “Would that surprise you?”

Spit connected their lips for just a moment; Soobin licked over Yeonjun’s bottom lip, whispering, “No.”

Soobin knew it was his worst kept secret.

“Tell me something else, then.” Yeonjun’s fingers worked fast as he talked, undoing the loose tie on Soobin’s sweatpants. His job was made harder by the obvious stiff tent in his way, and Soobin wanted him to just get on with it, get his cock out so he could fuck him into silence. This conversation would be nothing but violent for them, the longer they let it go on. Their words had taken a turn somewhere, veering down the darker path of mutual laceration. “Tell me what you don’t like about me.”

Every time it was always tell me why you like me. Hyung, what do you see in me? Why are you with me? What do you like about me?

He had even asked earlier this morning. And Soobin couldn’t answer. Not because there was nothing, but because there was everything, and it was a disaster in Soobin’s head, a mess of who he thought Yeonjun was and who he wanted him to be, and he knew none of it was completely right. In truth, it could all be summed up into one very simple, very awful answer: He liked Yeonjun because Yeonjun liked him.

There was a slight complexity to it. Yeonjun was beautiful, and Soobin never thought a beautiful person would fall in love with him. But Yeonjun was a mess himself, worse and worse every day, and Soobin liked that too, because it made him, the person who kept Yeonjun together, feel important. Soobin liked Yeonjun because of his strengths and because of his flaws, but most of all, he liked those things because of how they made him feel.

“I can’t,” Soobin confessed breathlessly, having to meet Yeonjun’s eyes for the first time since this started, and saw they were still burning. A crimson flush had spread across his cheeks, bloody blush on his clear tan skin, and his lips were amaranth and inviting, bitten into full bloom by Soobin’s own vicious mouth. Like a lascivious rose. Today, Yeonjun was red, red, red.

Blue no longer suited his palette.

In truth, it no longer suited Soobin’s, either.

And maybe he had lied to himself, in the first place, believing blue to be Yeonjun’s color. The sky they met under wasn’t blue at all. It was vivacious pink and orange, bleeding over the skyline, casting deep crimson shadows behind bright carnival lights. Lust and magic under the cover of a rising night sky. Blue was never part of that horizon.

“You just don’t want to,” Yeonjun hissed, a little sharp, a little violent, but he was sweet as he licked over his fingers before wrapping his hand around Soobin’s cock. Once again, he thought there would be some sensation of bliss, but the intensity of his juxtaposition made Soobin feel dizzy. His mouth was so mean, dealing blows both with his words and his lips, accusations nearly as harsh as his tongue against Soobin’s own. He spoke but gave him no time to think, kissing him roughly between sentences. But his hand was soft, using spit and the trails of pre-cum his cock drooled at every touch to stroke him at a fast, even pace. The circle of his fingers created a nice ribbed hole for Soobin to fuck into. It sounded filthy, filling the living room with a sticky wet noise, the perfect pairing to the perverted symphony they made together.

Soobin broke from their kiss in an attempt to regain control, and kissed the sharp edge of Yeonjun’s jaw. “You don’t really want me to.”

“Maybe not,” Yeonjun acknowledged, voice breathy as his eyes fluttered shut, succumbing to the feeling of Soobin’s mouth on him. His hand’s pace stuttered, and Soobin just felt hot, the burning desire to ruin him utterly consuming. Better than a fever, maybe something like ecstasy, but drawn out somewhere within his core.

Soobin found his throat, sucked his skin between his teeth and dragged over it with his tongue, wanting red bruises to bloom on his skin like summer blossoms. Yeonjun always liked to talk about beauty and pain. They were the same thing to him.

“Wouldn’t it be better to forget?” Soobin murmured into his shoulder, felt the words vibrate against his skin and the way Yeonjun shuddered in response.

“I hate it when you ask me that.” His voice sounded strained and breathless, his hand on Soobin growing more unsteady. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough.

“Do you want me to say I love you?”

Yeonjun’s hand left him then, wrapping both arms around his neck to draw him in tightly, and shook his head. “Don’t. Just…just tell me you need me again.”

Soobin moved his mouth from his neck, kissed his cheek, and then his lips. “I need you,” he whispered. And once he said it, a weight seemed to lift from Yeonjun’s shoulders. He kissed Soobin madly, licking into his mouth with a sort of harsh passion, so desperate for something that it made Soobin light-headed. Spit slicked their lips, their skin. His fingers twisted over and over in his hair. Soobin could kiss him like this forever, but his body wanted more.

“More,” Yeonjun panted, similarly minded, evenly wrecked, and Soobin could feel him subtly grinding against his thigh. “Hyung please, I need more.”

“You need me to say more?”

He shook his head. “Touch me more.”

It was what he wanted to hear. Talking hadn’t gotten them anywhere. So, he pressed his hand to the front of Yeonjun’s jeans, brushed over the obvious bulge there, then popped the top button. But before he could touch him, Soobin took his hand by the wrist and raised it to his lips, and Yeonjun’s dark hazy gaze followed, watching Soobin lick his fingers clean. He sucked the air between his teeth when Soobin dragged his tongue over his index finger, lapping up what was left of Yeonjun’s spit and his own pre-cum. The taste was salty and bitter, but he didn’t care. His prize was the slight tremble in Yeonjun’s hand, and the way he parted his lips in anticipation, the burning sensation of his anger slowly replaced by an even more intense desire for something else.

Soobin sucked on his middle and ring fingers now, liking the fit of them in his mouth. They were long and slender, suited for delicate things, and Yeonjun curled them when he got too overwhelmed by Soobin’s tongue. But Soobin gripped his wrist hard, forcing him to still and simply endure it.

When Soobin was done, he placed a soft kiss on his knuckles, then said in a low voice, “Touch yourself.”

Yeonjun’s eyes were wide, but he only bit his lip once before nodding. It wasn’t what he asked for, but he still complied. His hands shook slightly as he worked his jeans down just far enough to pull out his cock, already wet and stiff just from a little bit of kissing. He tried to kiss Soobin again as he slowly started stroking himself, but Soobin pressed a finger to his lips.

“I want to watch,” he murmured, and could see in Yeonjun’s eyes that he wanted to protest. It satisfied him, then, when Yeonjun simply nodded again. Still a good listener, even after everything.

Still, the thought of Soobin watching seemed to embarrass him, so Yeonjun leaned back against the wall, eyes shut.

He was a vision like this. Not necessarily the one Soobin was used to. His body looked different now, simultaneously thinner and more muscular than he had been before. His sculpted arms flexed attractively while he jerked himself off, but Soobin could see his ribs clearly without him having to do anything at all.

He looked pretty in his own hand, almost able to envelop his cock completely, but he didn’t touch himself with nearly the same care as he touched Soobin. His strokes were fast and uneven, almost like he was just desperate to get it over with, and he played with the pink tip of his cock, frequently rubbing his thumb over the slit in an effort to make himself wetter. When he squeezed the base of it, his lips would part in a little gasp, and he’d thrust into his own hand. So cute and responsive even when he was the one touching himself.

“Good boy,” Soobin praised softly in his ear, giving his own dick a few tugs just because it felt good. The blush on Yeonjun’s cheeks only deepened, and he squeezed his cock again. “You look so pretty touching yourself like this,” he told him, making an effort to whisper the compliments he usually kept only in his head. “So sensitive even when you’re just playing with your little cock.”

Yeonjun let out a breathy whine, but complained, “It’s not little.”

“Oh, baby,” Soobin cooed even though it sounded more degrading than anything. “It’s okay that it is. It’s cute.”

“It’s not small,” he insisted, and when he blinked his eyes open to glare at him, they were wide and teary. That one look turned Soobin on more than anything else he could have possibly done.

“Are you embarrassed?” Soobin hummed, nosing his soft hair. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“No,” Yeonjun denied petulantly, and he stopped moving his hand. Apparently, the matter was more serious to him than Soobin thought. “It’s just- it’s not small.”

He had successfully given Yeonjun something else to be upset about. Something much less significant. And because of that, Soobin didn’t feel so bad when he pulled Yeonjun’s hand away to wrap his own around his cock. It practically disappeared in his fist, just the wet flushed tip of it peeking out eagerly when he moved his thumb.

And when Yeonjun glanced down, he whimpered, a sure sign that he didn’t actually mind the teasing so much. They both knew he wasn’t really all that small; he was an average size, and in anyone else’s hand, would’ve looked perfectly normal. But it was fun to convince him otherwise.

“You’re so cute,” Soobin murmured, squeezing his cock. It leaked even more into his fist, reminding him again of just how sensitive Yeonjun was.

“You’re being too nice,” Yeonjun breathed in response, but he was thrusting into his hand, trying to get some form of friction. “I thought you were mad at me.”

He couldn’t be angry with him now. Not when he fit so beautifully in his arms, face flushed, chest rising up and down as he failed to control his breath while being touched.

“I thought you didn’t like me,” Yeonjun whispered this time, both sly and sympathetic, making Soobin sound like such a cruel lover.

“I like you so much, baby,” Soobin murmured against his lips, rubbing circles over the head of his little cock. “You’re going to stay with me, right?”

Yeonjun nodded, pressing his hands to the small of Soobin’s back, drawing him closer between his legs. “If you make it worth my time.”

He almost sounded like he was kidding. Not quite, though. Not enough to put Soobin at ease. He kind of liked it. Maybe things had gotten dull between him. It wasn’t as fun when Yeonjun wasn’t a prize.

Soobin chuckled, and sucked on his bottom lip before releasing it with a pop. “Where did you learn how to negotiate?”

“Learned it from you, daddy,” he murmured sweetly, a little poisonous, and Soobin could feel himself slipping into something familiar and dangerous. Something that tasted like two autumns ago, the thrill on his tongue like metal and blood, knowing the longer he lingered in Yeonjun’s storm, the more it would hurt. But he couldn’t help himself. He would do anything to get another taste of him. He had proven that a long time ago.

Soobin finally let his cock go, felt Yeonjun stutter and chase after his hands, and fit them on his waist instead. “You’re so fucked up for that,” he said softly in his ear, kissing the tender skin right beneath it.

“I know,” Yeonjun agreed, slipping his hands past the waistband of Soobin’s sweats. His fingers were rough where he gripped his ass, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. “It’s why you like me. You won’t say it. But I already know.”

If Yeonjun already knew, then why did he need to hear it so badly? Why did he crave the words more than he craved the love itself? Soobin was beginning to learn. He needed to hear it because it hurt more that way.

Soobin slipped his tongue back in his mouth, and kissed him slow and deep. His hand found its way under one of Yeonjun’s thighs, skin so soft that he wanted to bruise it all over, and he encouraged him to lift his leg and loosely wrap it around his own. Yeonjun had the prettiest legs that Soobin had ever seen on a boy. And pressed up against one another like this, their cocks brushed together, a bit of sweet relief after the violence of their mouths.

“Let’s go to bed,” Soobin broke from their kiss long enough to suggest, and Yeonjun whined.

“It’s so far.”

“Aren’t you still sore from last week?” Even as he asked, he shoved Yeonjun’s pants down a little farther, and pressed a finger to his entrance, just to feel it flutter at his touch. The anticipation was more delicious than anything else. Maybe it was cruel to remind him of the pain he had endured on his behalf, but Soobin liked to think he did it for good reason. He didn’t want to hurt Yeonjun more.

“Fuck,” Yeonjun said through gritted teeth, and nodded. “Fine.” He didn’t even bother pulling his jeans back on. He just kicked them off completely, roughly laced his fingers through Soobin’s, and dragged him down the hall.

They hadn’t actually fucked in their bed in a while. It was too conformist for Yeonjun, apparently, who preferred the couch, the dining table, or even the front door over something so average and tame. He practically tore the drawer out of the bedside table in his haste to get the lube out, Soobin’s glasses and antidepressants clattering to the floor.

“Careful,” he warned softly, but Yeonjun didn’t care. He just passed Soobin the bottle and perched on the edge of the mattress. “Hands and knees,” he instructed, and Yeonjun turned over, presenting himself all pretty for him.

Soobin didn’t waste a lot of time. He coated his fingers in lube, pressing two at once into Yeonjun. He eased them in at first, waiting for his hole to get used to the feeling and slowly open up. His body didn’t take as long to adjust now as it used to. Still, it had been a week since the last time they had sex, and it didn’t seem like Yeonjun had touched himself in all that time.

Since they had been together, Soobin never even heard him jerking off. He asked about it once, and Yeonjun just shrugged, saying he preferred to get off with him rather than do it alone. He said something else once, too, about not being horny when he wasn’t with him, and that stroked Soobin’s ego for a good few days after.

It also helped ease the ever-present fear that Yeonjun might accidentally fall into bed with someone else.

Yeonjun keened when his fingers brushed up against the right spot inside of him, and Soobin curled them there, pressing against his walls. He dropped a kiss on his shoulder and murmured, “Does that feel good?”

He nodded, arching his back a little more so that Soobin’s fingers would sink deeper. Soobin slowly thrust them in and out, working him open, letting him get readjusted to the sensation. At least it was wet this time, lube coating everything and dripping down Soobin’s fingers. He knew Yeonjun preferred it that way. Soobin wasn’t as partial- all the excess wetness just reminded him of fucking a pussy, and he had enough bad experience with that to last a lifetime. Still, it was more important that Yeonjun felt comfortable.

“Are you still mad at me?” Yeonjun asked the mattress, voice breathy and strained from having two fingers inside of him, and Soobin couldn’t tell if he was being coy or not.

He kissed his shoulder again. “No.”

“Are you lying?”

Soobin slid his fingers out of him, only to press a third one to his entrance back with the other two. “No,” he promised, the word heavy on his tongue, but undeniably true. “I’m not mad at you.”

Before Soobin could work all three into him, Yeonjun reached back and grabbed his wrist. “Just fuck me.”

“Babe-”

“I mean it,” Yeonjun said softly, seductively, fingers brushing his palm as they left. For just a second, Soobin wanted to catch his hand and never let go. He wanted their fingers to stay intertwined forever.

Instead, he let Yeonjun find his balance on the mattress again, and touched his sides, his stomach, his back, just wanting to feel his body underneath his hands. He was all angles these days, anatomy drawn in thin jagged lines. No trace left of the innocence that used to be in every curve of his body. Crueler to himself than to anyone else.

“You want me to wear a condom?”

“No. Let me feel it.”

Soobin kissed between his shoulder blades, then down his spine, murmuring, “Whatever you want.” He held his hip with one hand, the other slicked in lube, stroking his cock until it was coated. He kneeled behind him on the mattress, cock brushing against his hole. Lube was already leaking back out, rim stretched and pink, and Soobin held him still as he started to ease himself in.

It might be wet like a pussy, but Yeonjun was tighter, clenching around him at the large intrusion, hands curling in the sheets. He went slow, only pushing in partway.

“Fuck,” Yeonjun whined, always trembling at first.

“Relax,” Soobin tried to instruct, pressing a hand to his stomach. “You’re too tight.” For some reason, Yeonjun was having a harder time than usual, muscles still clenched. “Does it hurt?”

Yeonjun was panting, and it took him a second to form the words, “It always hurts.”

Soobin pressed his lips to his shoulder again, licked over the sweat on his skin and asked, “Do you want me to stop?”

His cock ached, painfully hard, but he would pull out now if Yeonjun asked. Still, even as he offered, Yeonjun started to loosen a little.

“N-no, just talk.” He sounded young when he spoke, shaky and tentative, and it reminded Soobin of the first time they had sex. When he took Yeonjun’s virginity.

“You’re so pretty,” Soobin praised, pulling out only so he could thrust back in a little deeper. Finally feeling some stimulation on his cock. He eased it in and out of him a few times, distracting Yeonjun with words and gentle fingers on his skin. “So fucking sexy. Even when you’re mad at me.”

“You think that’s sexy?”

He thought of the fire in Yeonjun’s eyes, the way he lifted his chin in defiance, the set of his shoulders, and how easily he made Soobin powerless. Compared to the way they went through everyday life, where Yeonjun was typically still vibrant but docile, there was something in his ignited passion that made him irresistibly alluring. Dangerous, yes. But the kind of danger that drew him in like a magnet.

Soobin’s hand skated up his chest to his nipples, and he brushed his thumb over one, admitting, “More than I should.”

Yeonjun arched into the touch, a little keen slipping past his lips. Soobin took the chance to fuck his cock into him much deeper than before, feeling him clench again on instinct before he relaxed and began to just take it. His keen quickly became a moan, and he rolled his hips, wanting Soobin’s cock as far inside of him as it would go.

“Th-that’s-” Soobin pinched his nipple, twisting the little bud between his fingers and cutting off whatever he planned on saying. “A-ah, fuck.”

Soobin gripped his hips again and started to fuck him in earnest now that he knew Yeonjun wanted it. His cock breached Yeonjun’s little hole over and over, lube dripping out and down the backs of his thighs, forcing his body to accept something that really shouldn’t fit at all. He liked the sound, unabashedly depraved, his balls slapping against Yeonjun’s ass as he pounded into him, seeking a high only Yeonjun could give.

Sex with Yeonjun was unlike any other sex Soobin had experienced. It felt raw, and honest, and worth any fight no matter how destructive. No one ever satisfied him the same way. No one felt like Yeonjun, who seemed made for him sometimes, and everything he wanted. A mix of so many of his desires. Sometimes elegant and poised to the point where Soobin felt undeserving of him. Sometimes so vulnerable and innocent it made him feel guilty. Sometimes coy, sometimes cruel, and always beautiful on the bed beneath him.

Soobin had a fear of intimacy for a long time. Too much humiliation surrounded his performance with women, and too much shame put a stop to any experimentation he might have done with men. Yeonjun freed him of that. Young and already jaded, Yeonjun had no fear when it came to sex. He knew what he wanted and how to get it, and the way he exercised his desire had ensnared Soobin a long time ago. His only options were to go at his pace or to get left behind entirely.

“Harder,” Yeonjun whined, still rocking his hips back on Soobin’s cock. He didn’t like taking it fully on his hands and knees; he had said before that something about it made him feel powerless, so he half-sat on his legs with his weight on his hands, fucking himself even on the off-strokes, back arched beautifully. He could keep his head up this way, and Soobin could admire the pretty curve of his spine as he sank his cock into him over and over. He supported him with his arms around his waist, palm splayed across his stomach, and the more he fucked him, the more of his cock he could feel deep inside, just barely bulging out beneath his palm. Yeonjun was so skinny now.

“Harder?” Soobin panted, thrusting in and out of him, determined to reach places inside of him that he had never fucked before. His ass looked so good like this, spread open and stuffed full of his dick, pink rim all stretched out to accommodate him. “Tell me how you want it, baby.”

“Want it to hurt,” he said in a sweet, breathy voice. “Want you to make me cry, daddy.”

Soobin hated the term, but at the same time, he found his hips stuttering for just a second, the heat of a premature orgasm tearing through him and he roughly twisted his fingers in Yeonjun’s hair, tamping down the urge to cum as he yanked his head up and pressed his mouth to his throat. He sucked on his sweat-slicked skin, salt on his tongue, grinding his cock into him now in slow circles.

“You need to stop with that,” he murmured the warning against his skin, dragging his tongue along his neck before taking the lobe of his ear between his teeth and biting.

Yeonjun cried out, twisting to get away from the bite, but Soobin just tightened his grip on his hair and forced him to hold still as he ravished his throat. As he did, he increased his pace again, fucking into him brutally, Yeonjun moaning so loud he thought their neighbors might hear. Lost in the daze of it, he didn’t mind the thought, wanting everyone on their floor to know how good he fucked his pretty boy. He wanted Yeonjun’s friends to know, too, so they would realize that he was getting everything he needed. He was well taken care of, and didn’t need them thinking that they could step in and do a better job.

“Does it feel good?” he growled in his ear, and Yeonjun whimpered but nodded his head. “Tell me.”

“Feels s-so good.” His voice was shaking now. He would be crying soon enough. “You fuck me so good, daddy,” he moaned, holding still now that Soobin was thrusting into him with the force he desired.

Soobin released his hair, landing a swift slap on his ass as he said harshly, “I’m not your fucking daddy, Yeonjun.”

Rather than deter him, his anger only seemed to incite Yeonjun more, who turned in his grip trying to kiss him hastily. Soobin would never admit it, but he liked his desperation, the way he suddenly couldn’t get enough of him, messily pressing his lips to his own in an attempt to bring them even closer. He missed mostly, mouth pressed against Soobin’s cheeks and jaw, sometimes sucking on his bottom lip. It was filthy and wet, though, and made him feel wanted. Soobin just kept fucking him, holding his waist tightly again, pounding into him from behind at a relentless pace.

Yeonjun was whining, a mindless fucked-out sound, nearly as hot as their skin slapping together.

“You want to say it again?” Soobin baited him, and Yeonjun caught on, shaking his head. “No? Are you sure? You seem to like that word so fucking much, go ahead, baby.”

Yeonjun shook his head again, stammering even as he protested, “N-no, I’m sorry, h-hyung.” He could barely get the words out, Soobin’s cock so deep inside of him that he couldn’t think about anything else. “A-ah!” he cried out as Soobin changed his angle, pulling Yeonjun back onto his cock so he could fuck up into him. He was so close.

He wrapped a hand around Yeonjun’s little cock again, jerking him off with quick, sharp strokes, wanting him to cum all over himself. With that rough stimulation on his dick, sensitive as it was, Yeonjun’s whines came in hiccups now, a sure sign that he was crying. Soobin was impressed he had held out for so long, and squeezed, using his precum like lube to slick up his cock and get it wet all over. When it wasn’t enough, he lifted his hand to Yeonjun’s mouth. “Spit.”

Yeonjun wasn’t shy, and spit into his hand so Soobin could make a better hole for him to fuck into. He started stroking him again, and now that it was wet, it only took a few twists of his palm to have Yeonjun cumming all over his hand and his own chest, hole clenching tightly around Soobin over and over as the shockwaves ran through him.

As soon as he stopped shuddering, Soobin pulled out of him, manhandling him onto his back. Seeing Yeonjun all spread out beneath him with his hair splayed on the sheets and cum all over his stomach made him throb. He fisted his wet hand over his own flushed and drooling cock, and Yeonjun watched him with dark, half-lidded eyes, chest rising and falling as he panted for air.

Yeonjun had tears on his cheeks but he sounded so sultry when he murmured, “You can choke me again if it gets you off.”

“Fuck,” Soobin cursed, shifting up on the mattress, still jerking his dick with one hand, but reaching for Yeonjun’s throat with the other. His skin felt soft beneath his fingers, and he squeezed lightly, thumb pressed against the spot that would make Yeonjun dizzy. Yeonjun’s eyes fluttered shut, breath coming in little gasps after a few moments, and the sound was enough to make Soobin cum.

In just a few strokes, he was shooting his load all over Yeonjun’s chest and face, hips stuttering as spurts of cum landed on Yeonjun’s skin. He squeezed his throat one more time, and when he pulled his hand away, Yeonjun came again, one last streak of white shooting out of the tip of his cock and dotting his stomach with the rest.

That was the second time Yeonjun had orgasmed just from being choked.

As Soobin came down from his high, he stayed on top of Yeonjun but made sure to keep his weight off of him, eyes shut, just trying to catch his breath. It took a moment for him to register Yeonjun’s legs curling around his own, coaxing him to lie down in a tangled heap with him. Yeonjun’s hands on his back felt warm, and he allowed himself to get all twisted up with his body even though it would be gross under any other circumstances.

But he liked the way their naked limbs fit together like puzzle pieces, holding each other close. Soobin tucked his nose in the space between Yeonjun’s head and shoulder, feeling the softness of his hair and the sweat on his skin. Every breath and beat of his heart rose and fell with his own. He couldn’t give this up. Take anything else from him, and he would survive. But having someone- no, having Yeonjun like this made all the difference in the world.

It made him whole.

He thought Yeonjun would say he loved him then, and Soobin knew, for the first time, he would have the strength to say it back. But Yeonjun didn’t say anything. He just curled his fingers in his hair and held him.

And that was alright, too.

Carefully, Soobin fit his hands on the small of Yeonjun’s back and turned them on their sides. Yeonjun caught his lips then, kissing him languidly, linking their legs together even tighter. Soobin cupped his jaw, brushing the cum from his cheek. His small face fit so easily in the palm of his hand.

When they broke apart, Soobin pressed his forehead to Yeonjun’s, and they breathed in sync for a moment. And then Yeonjun asked softly, “Soobin?” His breath fanned warm across his lips.

“Mm?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

It brought him back to the first time Yeonjun confessed to being in love with him. So abrupt and naive it made his heart ache looking back on it. He had been scared when Yeonjun said it, because he sounded so utterly convinced. There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his voice. And Soobin had never felt like that about anything.

“Yes,” he breathed, and didn’t anticipate the feeling of freedom in his chest. A weight lifted, and a terrible thrill that accompanied it. He clutched Yeonjun closer, eliminating any space left between their bodies, and confessed to his sin. “So in love it hurts.”

Yeonjun kissed him again, even more gentle this time, but the hands in his hair were trembling.

“Yeonjun-”

He was going to say he loved him. He didn’t need Yeonjun to say it first.

But Yeonjun sucked his bottom lip between his teeth, before releasing it and telling him, “It’s okay. You don’t need to say anything else.”

Soobin was going to protest- he did need to. But Yeonjun slipped his tongue in his mouth, a sweet distraction, one he easily fell victim to. And by the time they broke apart again, Soobin had forgotten entirely, out of breath and wrapped up in the feeling of him.

“Hyung, I’m sorry for what I said earlier,” Yeonjun whispered, drawing slow circles on his chest. Soobin opened his eyes to find Yeonjun already looking at him with a soft hazy gaze.

“I’m sorry, too.”

He had said some truly cruel and awful things to him, terrified by the idea of him really leaving. Some of them might have been true, but regardless, he shouldn’t have said them at all.

But it seemed significant that they were both able to say they were sorry. It hadn’t ever happened before. And they could leave things there, knowing it was better than they had done in the past.

“I’m going to need your help to stand,” Yeonjun admitted after they lay there for a while longer.

“Mm,” Soobin hummed his agreement, but took his time sitting up. Even when he managed to get upright, Yeonjun still laid on the bed, curled up alone in his absence, watching him. Soobin ran a hand through his hair, letting the soft silky strands fall between his fingers. Yeonjun took his hand and laced their fingers together, and with Soobin’s help, eventually sat up beside him.

They worked together to stand and get to the shower, Yeonjun leaning on him for support. Soobin could tell he had done a number on him. But it felt good to stand under the hot spray of water and rinse off, washing the spit, lube, and cum from their skin. Soobin washed Yeonjun’s hair for him, and massaged his sore muscles, feeling at ease. It was nice when Yeonjun just let go and allowed Soobin to take care of him for a minute.

Only after stepping out of the shower did Soobin realize that he was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in two days apart from a short nap while Yeonjun was out. Their fights, and the subsequent sex after, had drained every last drop of energy that he had.

Yeonjun seemed even more exhausted than him, not bothering to put on any clothes before slipping back into bed and mumbling something about washing the sheets in the morning. He didn’t even dry his hair.

Soobin slipped in beside him, and flicked off the lamp on the bedside table.

For a moment, under the cool guise of night and all the tension that they had released, everything seemed at peace.

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

Once Soobin fell asleep, Yeonjun just lay there for a while. He liked to look at him at night. The shape of him under the covers, washed in moonlight and street lamps, reassured him that he was still there. Soobin looked soft in sleep, more delicate than he ever allowed himself to be during the day. His lashes were full and dark, fanned against his pale moonlit cheeks, and his pink lips were parted slightly. Tonight, they were marred by the havoc Yeonjun wreaked on him, cut and swollen, forced to wear the signs of his violence which only stood in for his fear of being alone. Yeonjun was sore himself, and felt bruised from the inside out, but it was different seeing those bruises on the person he loved.

Yeonjun woke up often during the night. And each time, he would roll over to check that Soobin still lay beside him. Sometimes, he felt lonely when he looked at him. They couldn’t be farther apart in those moments, Yeonjun awake and Soobin blissfully asleep. Until meeting him, Yeonjun had never felt like that before. Loneliness was cold, and it echoed in a way that left him hollow. But he only felt lonely because he had someone to miss. So it was better to feel lonely like this than to not feel anything at all.

Eventually, Yeonjun pulled the covers back and slipped out of bed. He couldn’t stay. No matter how exhausted he was, he needed to get up. He went to the closet first; the film of the days’ events threatened to start playing the longer he lingered between consciousness and wherever Soobin wandered now.

His fear had nearly broken him earlier, and could have broken Soobin too. Even though Soobin would never admit it, Yeonjun saw the terrible panic in his eyes when he asked if they should break up. He had never seen him so shaken. In all the time they had known each other, Soobin had only raised his voice once.

He did again today, and Yeonjun learned that things were so much more precarious than he thought. And when Soobin threatened to say he loved him, Yeonjun realized he couldn’t bear to hear those words. Not when there was the chance of them being untrue. It was the sort of courtesy that was more pity than kindness.

After throwing on a shirt and jeans, Yeonjun lifted a bag off its hook in the closet, and began packing. He was quiet, but it wouldn’t matter. Soobin was a heavy sleeper. Yeonjun would never know if he had always been that way, or if it was a consequence of his medication. It wasn’t something he could ask, having never been given the invitation.

Soobin was so steady, Yeonjun couldn’t imagine him ever wavering. But he had earlier, which meant that Yeonjun was the one thing making him unstable. It wasn’t fair, then, to stick around just to keep him off-balance.

After dissolving all his closest ties today, it finally became clear to him that everyone else wasn’t the problem. If that were the case, then he wouldn’t be the one left abandoned and scrambling to pick up the pieces. He would feel better.

But all he felt was sick, regret burning in him sharper than hard liquor. He didn’t really know where he would go. But he needed to get out, before he hurt Soobin the way he had hurt everyone else.

He packed, and then he found himself in the kitchen as the nausea only grew stronger. Maybe it was hunger; the line had begun to blur sometime last week, right when he decided to take after some of the world’s most successful models and give up solid food entirely.

He couldn’t eat.

He could drink, though. Neat spirits promote weight loss, after all.

Soobin wasn’t really into booze. Wine and beer were occasionally fine, but Yeonjun wasn’t really a fan of either. So, he bought what he wanted and kept it tucked away, mostly for days when he just couldn’t get his last meal up on his own.

When he first started modeling, he would show up bloated to shoots every other week, and get reprimanded by his makeup artist for eating too much. Some of the other models teased him about it, but a senior gave him a piece of advice he actually found quite helpful. If he really did spoil himself by eating the night before a shoot, he could always just down a couple shots of everclear right after and let his body do the purging for him.

It worked like a charm. It was awful, and left him with chills for the rest of the night, and he felt so dizzy he could barely make it into bed, but it got the job done. He was never good at keeping down his liquor anyway. And though he woke up with a nasty hangover from time to time, all the models he knew carried painkillers and Xanax in their little Gucci purses. The panic attacks were worse than the headaches, honestly.

Yeonjun wasn’t looking to make himself sick right now, though. He just needed courage. Walking out the front door became harder and harder the longer he actually stood there with his bag packed.

Vodka was his best bet. A little fattening, but gin wouldn’t get him drunk enough.

He found a glass and poured a shot. Throwing it back, he didn’t even feel the liquor go down. He poured another shot, and threw that one back, too.

Drinking as a method to empty his stomach made it harder to drink recreationally. He couldn’t enjoy it fully when he went out with friends, not the same way they did. Beomgyu would order a bunch of fruity cocktails, easily three hundred calories apiece, and giggle about how he had earned it with how hard his week had been, and Yeonjun would just nod along because he didn’t know what to say. He felt like he earned it too, but in his case, all he was getting was a reminder of all the times he had been on his knees in a bathroom stall trying to throw up as quietly as possible. Both of them worked hard; they had earned different things.

Yeonjun knocked back another shot, this one more bitter than the first two.

Sometimes, he wished that Soobin drank more. He wished they drank together. He just wanted to see Soobin’s composure slip, so maybe they could have a genuine conversation for once. One where they weren’t trying to tear each other apart. Whenever they were fighting, Soobin always managed to single out one protruding weakness of his, usually whichever one he was feeling the most insecure about, and pick at it until it drove him absolutely crazy and he couldn’t think about anything else. Crying or shouting at him, it didn’t matter, because it distracted him from whatever they were really fighting about, and Soobin won. He would just give him new things to be upset about over and over until he eventually lost sight of what set him off in the first place.

It was exhausting.

He poured himself another shot.

It wasn’t a normal response. That’s not how normal people fought. So why did he always do that with him? Why couldn’t he just talk about whatever the problem actually was? Maybe he knew something Yeonjun didn’t.

He was sore. He felt it everywhere in his body, already bruised from their fight. They didn’t hit each other. They were having sex, but Yeonjun knew that they were really fighting underneath all the layers of attraction and manipulation. It wasn’t the worst way to fight. Orgasms felt better than punches. But the words felt crueler somehow. It wasn’t making love if all they could think about was how much they hated each other.

Yeonjun knew Soobin hated him at times. He didn’t have to say it, even though he did earlier just to cut him. Yeonjun was difficult. Loving him took patience. And Soobin had more patience than anyone he had ever met, but it still wasn’t enough. Yeonjun was too much, overwhelming him, destroying his peace of mind. Soobin probably didn’t even want to come back from his trip. And Yeonjun wouldn’t have blamed him. If it were so simple, he would’ve left himself a long time ago.

He poured another shot, his hands a little shakier than they were before. The bottle of vodka felt heavier even as he drank more of it.

His bag sat on the floor by the counter, abandoned there in his haste to dull his pain. He should pick it up now and leave.

Soobin didn’t have the courage to end things. Yeonjun should be the selfless one for once and take that burden on himself. Soobin would be happier if he did.

Yeonjun had finally figured out that he made peoples’ lives worse by being in them, not better. Soobin lay in bed right now, covered in the same bruises, inside and out. If Yeonjun weren’t here with him, he wouldn’t be hurting.

Even though he wasn’t good with responsibility, Yeonjun knew it was time to start holding himself accountable.

He went to pour one last shot, but the bottle slipped out of his hand, too heavy to hold now. It shattered all over the kitchen floor, blue shards of glass skidding on the tile all around him, the last ounces of alcohol spraying over his feet and on the bottom of the counter.

The whole floor looked jagged and blue and Yeonjun just stood there for a moment, frozen. He knew he had to clean it up. But he didn’t know how. His brain stalled, slow to catch up with his hands as he reached for a dish towel to mop up the liquor. He took a step closer to the counter, and had the rag in his hands before he registered the shooting pains in his feet.

Oh, right. Glass on the floor.

His head felt fuzzy, but he knew he needed the broom from the hall closet. Getting over there seemed impossible. There was probably a smart way to do it, but he would need to be a lot more sober to figure that out.

As it was, he just tried to step carefully over the glass, littered on the tile like little blue landmines. He missed his mark more than once, jagged pieces of it sinking into his feet, but he eventually made it out of the kitchen.

The persistent nausea in his stomach broke at that moment, and he barely had time to make it into the bathroom before he was vomiting up everything he just drank into the toilet.

A familiar feeling, but it still burned no matter how many times he did it. There was the roiling storm and then the worst searing pain like a trail of fire up the back of his throat. Booze was efficient, but it made everything worse.

He was there longer than usual; the sick feeling just never left. His legs were cramping underneath him, cold tiles on his legs something he was too well acquainted with. Everything felt cold really, chills spreading down his spine and along his shoulders. He didn’t know he was shaking until he felt steady hands on his back.

Soobin didn’t say anything. At least, Yeonjun didn’t hear him if he did. He brushed his hair out of his face and rubbed slow comforting circles on his back.

His hands were the only source of warmth in that frigid awful room.

They were there together for a while, until Yeonjun felt like a husk, emptied of everything he had, left only with cut feet and a dizzying fever.

He thought about standing. He didn’t want to look at Soobin. He couldn’t really, the thought of it making him sick all over again. It was like guilt, but so much worse, a consuming emotion that he couldn’t name, somewhere between the blurred lines of fear and shame. Something like a punishment, one he deserved.

When he tried to stand, he forgot about his feet all over again, and cried out in pain before staggering back to the floor. Tight arms fastened around his waist, stopping him from tripping, and pulled him close, into Soobin’s embrace, and Yeonjun realized he had been talking to him for a while.

“-sit, it’s okay. You’re okay, just sit down for a minute. I’ve got you. You’re okay.” Soobin spoke softly. At first, it almost sounded like his voice was shaking, but when he talked again, it was slow and steady. “There we go. Just breathe for me,” he said, carding his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair. His touch grounded him a little. The arm still around his waist felt kind of like a safety belt. “Can you do that?”

The words didn’t process immediately, but after a moment, Yeonjun nodded. He shut his eyes; the fluorescents hurt. He tried to focus on breathing, to still the spinning room a bit. Soobin rested his chin on his shoulder, and that helped, too. He was warm.

“Do you think you can sit against the wall?” Soobin asked gently after a few minutes of this, and started to pull away from him. Yeonjun could feel his warmth leave.

“No!” he cried out, clinging to him. Soobin couldn’t leave. He was all he had. “Don’t go, please- please, I need you to stay.” His voice sounded hoarse and spent, weak against the echoing walls, and he was terrified that it wasn’t loud enough to be heard.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Soobin reassured him, but Yeonjun couldn’t let go. “I’m just going to get the first-aid kit from under the sink.”

He shook his head. “No, you can’t go in the kitchen. It’s…bad.”

It was sharp and blue and covered in all the signs of him leaving.

There were better words he wanted to use but he couldn’t think of them.

“I’m not going in the kitchen,” Soobin replied patiently. “It’s in here. I just need to stand for a second, okay?”

Yeonjun didn’t know what to say; his voice felt like it got caught in his throat. But his hands found a place on the tiles and he managed to scoot back so Soobin could get up.

He looked at him for the first time, vision a little blurry. Soobin had put on a pair of boxers. His hair was disheveled, glasses probably still on the bedside table. He looked tired, but he didn’t look angry. He pulled one of the cabinets open and retrieved a small red bag. And when he came back to him, he fit his hands around Yeonjun’s waist and lifted him onto the closed toilet lid. He didn’t know Soobin was that strong.

Soobin kneeled on the floor in front of him, carefully lifting his ankle. Yeonjun wasn’t sure why he looked so scared. He knew he probably had a couple cuts on his foot, but Soobin stared for a minute.

“We might need to take you to the hospital,” he said quietly, but pulled a few things out of his red bag.

“Why?”

It took Soobin a few beats to answer. “You stepped in a lot of glass.”

“I can pull it out,” Yeonjun said, reaching out an unsteady hand for the tweezer he held. Soobin shook his head.

“No, just sit still. I’ll try to get as much of it out as I can.”

He tried to pull his foot away from Soobin. “It’ll hurt,” he whispered.

Soobin bit his lip, but tried to comfort him. “It won’t hurt that badly, I promise.” The fingers on his ankle were firm.

“You promise?” Soobin nodded. “Okay…”

He stopped struggling and let him examine his foot. After a few seconds, he started carefully pulling out pieces of glass.

There was so much more than Yeonjun thought. It did hurt, sort of like needles, but the pain felt dull and distant, almost as if he were watching it happen to someone else. Soobin discarded each bloody piece in the trash can, precise and methodical about it the entire time. After a while, they switched to the other foot. Soobin’s hands had started shaking a little, and Yeonjun wanted to say he was sorry, but didn’t know how.

Eventually, Soobin set the tweezer on the counter and grabbed the other thing he had pulled out from the bag. “This might sting a little,” he quietly warned, and Yeonjun braced himself for pain as he pressed the alcohol wipe to the bottom of his foot. Again, it did hurt. But the pain wasn’t immediate, experienced through a filter of something else. Soobin cleaned the blood from his foot, and then did the same for the other. Once he was done, he threw the alcohol wipes away as well, but stayed kneeling on the floor.

Yeonjun wasn’t sure why, but he found himself reaching for Soobin’s hands, pulling them into his own and intertwining their fingers. He wondered if Soobin ever thought that he would find himself here, in the bathroom with him in the earliest hours of morning, cleaning up another horrible mess he had made.

“I’m sorry.” He finally managed to say it.

Soobin had his head lowered, eyes shut, but squeezed his hands. They were silent like that for a while.

“Were you going to leave?” Soobin whispered after a while.

He must have seen the glass in the kitchen and his bag on the floor.

Slowly, Yeonjun nodded.

“Because of me?”

“Not because of you,” he whispered. “For you. I want you to be happy.”

Soobin finally looked him in the eyes, hurt and desperate, saying, “You make me happy. I can’t be happy without you.”

“You can,” Yeonjun insisted. “You would be.”

Soobin sounded heartbroken when he asked, “Why do you think that?”

“I- I’m not good for you. I’m not good for anyone. I just feel wrong all the time. Like I’m not myself." Yeonjun’s voice shook, tears cutting well-trodden paths down his cheeks. It took a long time for them to come. He glanced up at Soobin, only to see his eyes wide and scared and it just made him feel worse. "Is it supposed to be like this?" he whispered.

He meant growing up, and life itself, and everything. And he knew it was too ambiguous of a question, philosophy with consequence, but Soobin was supposed to know. He was supposed to have all the answers but for once, he just shook his head, looking tormented as he confessed, "I don’t know."

Yeonjun swallowed the harsh lump in his throat, but shut his eyes when he felt Soobin’s arms around him again, hugging him close. He was still warm, but it only made his chills feel more intense. They hadn’t left, haunting him nearly as much as the day’s bad memories.

"I’m sorry," Soobin whispered after a few moments. "I’m so sorry."

It wasn’t Soobin’s fault. Not really. But it was hard to put into words, because Soobin somehow made everything better and worse at the same time.

Sitting together like this, though, all Yeonjun could think about was how good he had been to him since he was eighteen. No one else had loved him the same way. And Soobin didn’t know when he took him in how much responsibility he was accepting onto his own shoulders. Yeonjun didn’t want to be a burden. But he didn’t know how to take care of himself, either.

He had been relying on Soobin for such a long time. Being with him meant he didn’t have to grow up. He wasn’t learning how to be an adult.

It should scare him, but it felt safe. He didn’t want to be out in the world on his own. He wanted to be here, with him, in their own little bubble. In here, Yeonjun could start a fight, break a bottle, collapse on the bathroom tile, and Soobin would still be here to take care of him. No one else would put up with that.

In just a few months, Yeonjun would be turning twenty. Two years they would be together, then. Because he knew he wasn’t leaving. He didn’t have the strength.

And he thought if he tried, Soobin might cry.

If Soobin cried, it meant Yeonjun had broken him irreparably.

“Can we go to bed?” Yeonjun asked after a while, murmuring it into Soobin’s shoulder. “I’ll clean up in the morning.”

“Yeah,” Soobin said tiredly. “Let’s get you to bed.”

They stood, Soobin with an arm around his waist. Yeonjun’s feet hurt a little more now, but they made it back to the bedroom. He saw that the blankets had been thrown back, probably in haste when Soobin heard all the noise earlier, and it looked like his pills and glasses had been knocked off the bedside table when he turned on the lamp. Soobin eased him under the covers, so very gentle with him, and replaced the things that had fallen over.

He kissed his head softly, then, and said, “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Try to sleep, okay?”

The last thing Yeonjun wanted him to do was leave. But he nodded, and waited for Soobin to shut off the lamp and close the bedroom door behind him before shutting his eyes. He would wait for him to come back, and once Soobin was under the blankets, Yeonjun would hold him close and say over and over again how sorry he was. He would tell him he loved him, and it wouldn’t matter if Soobin didn’t say it back. It wouldn’t change anything. Yeonjun loved him so much.

He fell asleep within just a few minutes. But that wouldn’t have mattered either. Soobin didn’t come back to bed for a long time.

───────✧❁✧───────

Winter was gone. Soobin had thought about it on the drive home last night leaving his parents. The snow had melted, and he saw cherry blossoms in bloom.

But it was cold tonight.

His phone read three a.m., and he sat out on the balcony by himself, clutching a warm mug of jasmine tea. The air felt sharp and bitter, the tang of rain still fresh on the wind, biting into his cheeks and hands. He should have gone to bed by now.

It took him a while to sweep up the glass in the kitchen, and longer to clean up the trail of blood Yeonjun had left on the floor. Soobin was tired, but his panic became adrenaline, and he was able to keep a calm face in front of him when he saw him hunched over the toilet with the bottoms of his feet torn, ragged and bleeding, shaking violently. Everything in that room smelled like sour vodka.

It scared him, to wake up and find the bed empty and to hear that awful crash come from the kitchen. Yeonjun being gone wasn’t the part that scared him; he had built a habit of getting up and wandering around at night, and it was something he did even before they moved in together. But it was the sounds: breaking glass, him staggering down the hall, and retching up the contents of his stomach. He wished he had gotten out there faster; maybe Yeonjun wouldn’t have hurt himself so badly if he had, but he was so disoriented. Soobin didn’t feel in control of his own body at first, weighed down by his exhaustion, and when he finally managed to throw back the blankets and get out of bed, Yeonjun was already in the bathroom.

What scared him even more was the fact that Yeonjun didn’t throw up anything solid. As if he hadn’t eaten in days. Which would make sense, Soobin supposed, if he was feeling sick. But he went out with friends just last night. He sounded fine on the phone when they spoke yesterday. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed while he was gone. Soobin didn't want him to see a doctor for the cuts on his feet. He just needed someone else to look at Yeonjun and tell him that his weight loss wasn't healthy. But the topic itself felt so impossible to approach because Yeonjun guarded it with barbed wire, not even letting Soobin near enough to bring it up. He kept himself shielded with the pain he was willing to wear on his sleeve.

Yeonjun stalked in this morning already looking angry, and that anger hadn’t left him all day. He only seemed to shed it when Soobin was holding him in the bathroom. And Soobin knew he had likely fought with his mother earlier. That was easy enough to guess by his face. But he seemed stricken with a deep resentment that wouldn’t leave.

Maybe he tried to take it out on himself with the drinking. Soobin didn’t have any answers. He felt lost, and he knew it couldn’t happen again, but he had no idea what to do beyond that.

The part that hurt the most was that Yeonjun really planned to leave. If he hadn’t gotten sick, he might have walked out the door.

Soobin sighed, and took a sip of his tea. Still hot enough to nearly burn his tongue, but better than the biting cold.

He wasn’t quite sure where he went wrong. A lot of people would probably point at the beginning of this whole mess and say his mistake lie in falling for Yeonjun in the first place. They wouldn’t be wrong. Even back then, he knew he shouldn’t have done it. Not because Yeonjun was a wildfire, but because he was doomed to fail from the start. Yeonjun was too young and too vulnerable to be what Soobin really wanted.

Soobin wanted to fall in love, and stay that way forever. And he was in love now, but constantly terrified of it ending. He should have fallen for someone like himself. Older, of course, but with the same goals, too. Yeonjun couldn’t support his goals. He could barely support himself. The last thing he needed was to be in love, and Soobin was beginning to fear that he had done more damage to Yeonjun than he ever intended.

Would he still be falling apart if he didn’t have Soobin in his life?

He seemed to be carrying so much weight on his shoulders, but even now, he refused to let Soobin in. He had no idea what his burdens were. Yeonjun wouldn’t tell him. And he used to think with time that Yeonjun would open up, but they had been together for over a year and he still kept all his secrets buried down as deep as they would go.

Soobin thought they were shallow at first. Yeonjun wasn’t even twenty, what kind of pain would he have to hide?

But seeing him fall to pieces tonight was a wake-up call. Yeonjun did have secrets, and they weren’t the secrets of a kid, clutched close to his chest just because they were all he had. They were consequential secrets. Defining ones, maybe, that had traumatized him far past the point Soobin initially expected.

His insecurities were few, but heavy, and all tied together somehow.

His trauma felt both familiar and completely alien to Soobin. When he saw Yeonjun on the bathroom floor, he recognized his exhaustion and the desperation in his eyes to understand why this was happening to him. He had been there before, undergoing a different kind of pain as a consequence of different harms done to him, but he knew that look. He just couldn’t understand why Yeonjun was wearing it.

Yeonjun was loved and envied and wanted by nearly everyone in his life. So how had things turned out this way for him?

Was it Soobin’s fault? Or had it begun even before they met?

He didn’t have any answers. That was what terrified him the most. Yeonjun looked at him with those desperate eyes and asked if it was normal to hurt the way he did, and Soobin didn’t have the answer. For once, he had to admit that he didn’t know.

He never wanted it to come to that in their relationship. It was his job to understand the world so Yeonjun could have access to all the answers at his fingertips. It was the foundation that their relationship was built on. What was the point in Yeonjun staying with him if he couldn’t provide the guidance he needed? It was all Soobin had. It was all that kept Yeonjun from finding someone else. He looked up to him, and trusted him to show him the right path. It was the one craving Soobin satisfied that no one else could.

Soobin took another long drink of his tea. It had cooled considerably in the time he sat there thinking. It seemed like only a minute ago that it was too hot to drink.

Below, cars raced by, in a hurry even at the dead of night. Everything lay bathed in orange apart from towering black highrises and the inky darkness overhead. Every few minutes, people would walk past, mostly in groups. Some were students, coming home from parties. Others were couples returning from a late night out.

Very few people walked around their neighborhood alone. They were safe here. But it was human nature to travel together, better in pairs, and the night always drove people together anyway.

But tonight, he and Yeonjun were apart.

This morning, Soobin wanted to confess what had happened with his parents. He wanted Yeonjun’s advice. In all honesty, Yeonjun was better at talking to his parents like an adult than Soobin was. Soobin’s mother couldn’t accept that he had grown up, and not in the way she had envisioned.

Yeonjun’s mother let him grow up too early, leaving him to fend for himself in a world that was inherently cruel to people like them.

Instead of talking about it, Soobin had lied. He said he came home for Yeonjun’s sake, and now he sort of wished he hadn’t come home early at all. He should have endured his fight with his parents. Instead, he left his relationship with his mother in shambles and came home to a broken boyfriend who couldn’t even look him in the eyes without sparking anger.

Never had he wanted a do-over on a day so badly. It had been a long time since he had a day as endless and awful as this one.

He should really get some sleep. The thought kept circling, and in response, he just kept drinking his tea. He would make it back inside eventually.

Or maybe he wouldn’t, and he would sit out here until the sun rose. Maybe Yeonjun would come looking for him, and he would settle in his arms with those big scared eyes and say he needed him again.

Yeonjun looked so young when he was shattered like that. The mask of maturity that he had been forced to adopt far too early in life left stricken in pieces on the floor, replaced instead with a face that revealed his age and all the fear that came with it.

Yeonjun was only nineteen.

And in Soobin’s efforts to protect him from all the bad things in the world, he had only made everything worse.

It was never a burden he thought he would carry. He wasn’t even sure how their relationship had deviated so much from what he initially planned. He really never meant to fall in love with Yeonjun.

But he was in love now, and he couldn’t confess it to anyone. Not even to Yeonjun himself.

He finished his tea, cold and bitter now at the bottom of his cup, and set it aside. Cars still streamed by on the street below. He could see his breath in front of him, vapor illuminated by the orange haze.

Spring was supposed to have come by now. But all that was swept in with the changing season were storms.

Soobin got the feeling that it would rain for a while. With enough of it, a flood might even come their way.

He sighed, and got to his feet, mug in hand. It was time for bed.

Tomorrow would be another day.

Chapter Text

───────✧❁✧───────

Bright morning light filtered through the bedroom curtains, billowing them open on brisk spring winds. The clouds had parted, though they lay in heavy gray banks overhead, patiently awaiting a moment of reconvergence to douse the city in cleansing rains once more.

Soobin watched them pass over the hill of Yeonjun’s bare shoulder, where he had tucked himself away in the early hours of dawn. Yeonjun hadn’t stirred when he climbed back into bed, finally finding some peace in dreams. Soobin hoped his dreams were kind to him. He hoped that, in the deep recesses of sleep, Yeonjun felt happy.

He slept fitfully himself. In and out for a while. It had been a long time since he felt so restless, unable to get more than a couple hours even when his body was running on empty. Yeonjun’s weight and the shape of him in his bed felt comforting, though, so Soobin held him close, breathing in the scent of his skin, his hair. They didn’t use the same shampoo anymore. Yeonjun’s preserved the color in his hair and smelled like artificial roses. His skin carried a dusting of that hypnotic Dior perfume he loved so much, the one that came in an apple-shaped bottle. It sat on the bedroom vanity, the one Soobin never used.

Yeonjun kept a lot of things there. Bottles and drawers filled with products. They all looked expensive. But Yeonjun seemed to cherish them. He spent at least half an hour sitting at that little vanity every morning, doing his hair, his makeup.

It was one of the few times in a day where Soobin thought he looked at ease. Maybe the routine brought him a sense of comfort. Stability was a luxury in Yeonjun’s life, something Soobin had come to learn over a year of watching him.

Soobin had thought about telling him that he was beautiful when he sat there. The cosmetics had nothing to do with it. He liked the look of concentration on his face, how clearly his perfectionism shined through as he took such a trivial thing so seriously. The morning light usually washed him in a clean white hue and made his tan skin glow. He always smiled up at Soobin when he walked past.

For some reason, though, Soobin had never told him.

He sighed, and his breath must have ticked Yeonjun’s ear, because he made a soft groaning sound and shifted in his arms. Soobin gave him space to roll over, and felt a strange rush somewhere near his heart when Yeonjun faced him, wrapping his arms around Soobin’s waist. His eyes stayed closed- he might even be sleeping still. But he sought Soobin out and snuggled closer to him, pressing his cheek to his chest.

Soobin shut his eyes and let the warm rush wash over him. He knew it was love. No other emotion started in the heart and spread throughout the whole body in such pleasant waves. And Soobin had never really felt it before he knew Yeonjun. It was a different kind of love than the one reserved for family or friends. This love was consuming, all-encompassing, making every other emotion feel weak and watered down in comparison. It had the ability to make him the happiest man on earth or the most devastated travesty. It was powerful, terrifying, and increasingly addictive.

He should have a plan by now. He was thirty-four. Over a year had passed. He should have his shit figured out, and yet, here he was sharing a bed with a nineteen year old. A nineteen year old boy who he loved. Nothing was right about that.

Yeonjun was all kinds of fucked up, too. Not the kind of person Soobin needed. He really was ruining his life, but why did it feel so good, then? Why, then, did Soobin want to protect him from all the harm in the world? He looked angelic laying there in Soobin’s arms, curled into his body as though he trusted Soobin to keep him safe. Soobin wanted to. He wanted it more than anything. And yet the feeling of electricity in the air, of anticipation, a calm before the storm reflected even by the view outside his window…it lingered.

Eventually, Soobin detangled their limbs. Yeonjun remained sleeping, quiet and peaceful, and Soobin slipped out of bed. He put on a shirt, found his glasses, and took his morning dose.

After that, he allowed the purpose of a kept routine to guide him. Teeth brushed, hair combed, coffee pot and kettle running. His feet walked the steps more than he thought them through. Boxes checked off on the list that kept his life intact.

Once the water finished boiling, he made a cup of jasmine tea and sat at the dining table with his laptop, scrolling through his roster of new students.

Term would start tomorrow. And Soobin found himself looking forward to the academic year less than usual this time around. After two years of teaching at the academy, he was starting to realize it wasn’t really for him. The pay and benefits were incomparable, of course. And while the students were a bit snobby and rude upon first introduction, they all warmed up to him eventually. Money had no sway in education, at least not in his classroom. No, what he really dreaded every day were his co-workers. They took all the worst elements of the students and just maximized them in an adult’s body. Adults who he had to meet and converse with on a daily basis, and pretend as though their pretentious high-life existence interested him in the slightest. Each of them looked down on him in one way or another. They knew he wasn’t from their sphere of life or education. All of them used to be lawyers looking for an easy way into retirement, or professors doing ‘charity,’ or trust fund doctors who decided saving lives wasn’t really for them. All the credentials and none of the lived experience.

And sometimes Soobin just wanted to stop pretending like he cared and tell them they were all privileged pricks who let their money and opportunity go to waste just because they were too selfish or lazy to do anything with it. If Soobin had their advantages growing up, he would have become a writer and traveled the world. But he didn’t. He had a degree from the cheapest college in the city, and ten years teaching in the public school system. He had a teaching assistant who took pity on him and probably saved his life, and Soobin couldn’t even reach out to say thank you. He had a family he couldn’t look in the eyes for fear that they would finally see him for the first time, and they would be afraid.

He had a glass vase of abandoned dreams and broken hearts tucked away in the darkest corner of his pitiful life’s memoir, covered with a sheet woven from the cotton of white lies. He had regret rising up behind him in an even stronger shadow than that of impending middle age, staring back at the nothing he had made of himself and understanding that in the greater scheme of things, his life didn’t matter at all.

The truth was, and it left a bitter taste in his mouth to think about, he could have all the things his co-workers took for granted. He had a scholarship for the most prestigious pre-med program in Seoul. A full-ride. His parents had never been more proud of him.

He went for two years. He kept to himself. He knew he needed to take it seriously, the opportunity that he had been given. But he met a girl in his anatomy lab, and Soobin sort of thought he had fallen in love with her. He didn’t understand back then that what they had wasn’t love at all.

They sat together during their first lab. She introduced herself as Moon Hana, and she said it with her chin raised and eyes alight with challenge. As if daring Soobin to share her confidence. She was a project kid. She wanted to be a nurse to help her family. She was beautiful; small and curvy with big eyes and a mischievous smile. He couldn’t say what exactly drew him in, but she had a liberated spirit and a hunger for everything life had to offer. She had him wrapped around her finger in an instant, the closest thing to attraction he had ever felt for a woman. Even today he couldn’t name what his emotions for her had all been wrapped up in.

She was also manic and destructive, and took Soobin on a roller coaster he never intended to sign up for. It never felt right. But he was convinced that he was in love, barring all the red flags and the awful feeling in his gut. She gave him an out. She let him hide from himself, the sort of straight romance he thought he should be having. She showed him parts of the world and parts of himself that he never wanted to meet. And it was thrilling, and terrifying, and all along he couldn’t shake the feeling that it was wrong, but she kept him exhilarated enough to keep coming back.

So many of his firsts had been with her. First time drinking, first time having sex, first time getting high. He had to be drunk to sleep with her, and she didn’t really seem to mind. She showed him the projects by the old railways, and the kids she grew up with who never got to leave, and he supposed they had poverty in common. They shared experiences of neglect, of watching their parents scrape the bottoms of every drawer in the house to come up with enough money at the end of the month. Experiences of being raised by a sibling who was cast into the role of parent without their consent, and the guilt that always lingered because of it. Of being an outcast for simply knowing too much about the harshness of the world at too young of an age.

They grew up in different cities, but her story felt familiar. The only difference was, though, that Soobin’s family managed to get out. And luck was really all it came down to.

But the ride she took him on spiraled out of control at some point; he was drunk every other day- it was the only way he could endure it. They fought constantly. He never hit her, of course, but she had probably thrown every glass they had at him. It was why he had gotten so good at picking splintered shards out of skin. She would scream and claw and threaten to kill herself if he left her. She got her tuition revoked for coming to class high, and landed a major fine because of it. Soobin had to pay it off for her, otherwise her drug use would have landed her in prison. He sold everything he had except his car just to stay in school.

She still ended up getting arrested. Shoplifting, of all things, but she had attacked an employee when they tried to stop her and it was pretty severe; Soobin had felt so guilty for the relief that flooded him when he got the call, the realization that he was free now, but at the expense of someone else’s pain. The guilt stayed with him, heavy and consuming, and he tried drinking to make himself numb to it, but pre-med was hard enough sober, and fucking excruciating with a constant hangover.

His grades plummeted, and he knew he was on the verge of losing his scholarship. But he didn’t have the will to care. He was miserable, and drunk, and chronically exhausted. He reached a point where he woke up every day long past noon, wondering if that would be the day he just dropped dead, and the thought stopped scaring him after a while.

He was lucky. Another person, someone kinder, took pity on him. His psych TA of all people, Kim Seyun. And Seyun wasn’t soft about it either. He didn’t tread on broken glass. He pulled Soobin aside one day and told him that he needed to get his shit together, even if that meant dropping out of pre-med entirely. Soobin was harsh and uncooperative at first. It wasn’t any of Seyun’s business. But he kept coming back to him. When he was so hammered he could barely walk, he found himself on the steps of Seyun’s senior housing. When his parents told him not to come home for the holidays, Seyun took him in. When he just needed someone to talk to, he called him.

Eventually, Seyun referred him to a professional he knew from his own schooling and because Soobin trusted him then, he listened, seeking out help for the first time in two years. He joined a support group. It was awful and humiliating to admit that he had a problem, but he couldn’t keep living like he was. The reality that he was killing himself breathed down his neck every day, and after a while, it started to scare him again. After a few months of therapy, broaching so many topics that Soobin had suppressed from his childhood, he ended up on antidepressants.

At first, it seemed like a good thing. He wasn’t lashing out all the time. He wasn’t waking up more exhausted than when he had gone to sleep. He felt like he could talk to other people without suffering a breakdown.

And then he hated it. The numbness felt like a punishment. It wasn’t the pleasant haze of alcohol, but a deep-seated dullness that made every experience, no matter how happy or infuriating, flat and completely void of meaning.

His brother told him his wife was pregnant. Soobin smiled, told him congratulations, and felt absolutely nothing. His father fell going down the stairs from his office building and broke his leg; Soobin listened to his mother’s frantic voice on the line telling him to come home, and he agreed, feeling no sense of urgency or fear. He got a call informing him that Hana had committed suicide the day before she was due for release. And all he felt was a curious emptiness inside.

He went off of them more than once. But after the third time, he realized the repercussions were more destructive than anything he endured while taking his medication. Off of his medication, he was angry at the world and he wanted to die every day. On it, he felt nothing, but he didn’t feel like dying, either.

Slowly, after a few years and dropping out of pre-med, he figured out how emotions were supposed to work on antidepressants. With enough time, he could feel something. All of his emotions were watered down, as if seen through a filtered lens, a fraction of what he remembered them being. But at least they existed.

Meeting Choi Yeonjun changed everything. The anticipation, the fear, the excitement. A different rush of adrenaline every single day. It was like being off his medication, but without any of the consequences. Finally, he could feel again. He never knew what to expect. Emotions resurfaced that he hadn’t experienced in years. Things he didn’t even think he was capable of feeling anymore. Love and anger were the two that caught him off guard the most, and they both terrified him. His only experience with love, however broken and jaded it might have been, was the single experience that destroyed him. And his anger took years of medication and therapy to neatly wrap up and stow away long enough for it to become manageable.

Yet he still wanted it. He wanted to keep those feelings, and never let them slip away. Losing Yeonjun would mean losing all of that.

So it was a good thing, then, that he slept peacefully now in Soobin’s bed.

Eventually, the scent of brewing coffee must have roused him, because he padded out of the bedroom somewhere around eight in nothing but sweatpants, with sleepy eyes and light steps. The embodiment of early morning purity. Innocent and gentle, and so starkly different from the boy last night who had been so afraid that it scared Soobin deep into his own core. Yeonjun’s fearlessness did not persist as he got older. The world continued to push at him from every angle, only giving him more and more to be afraid of. It seemed so intentional. A shift in the air somehow bent on breaking him. Perhaps his spirit, the purest form of it, was too strong for the world to withstand.

Last night reminded Soobin, once again, that Yeonjun was so young. It had slipped his mind for a time. Or maybe he chose not to ponder Yeonjun’s youth in juxtaposition with his own aging. But Yeonjun was young and vulnerable, out in a world that played the card of cruelty face up at every opportunity. He needed Soobin to protect him.

He couldn’t continue making mistakes, not when Yeonjun was the one who endured the consequences of them.

Soobin gave him a warm smile. They could start over today. “Hi, baby.”

Yeonjun frowned, only giving him an odd look before he started searching around the room for something. “Hi. Have you seen my glasses?”

He looked his most adorable after just waking up, perpetually confused, eyes narrow and bleary, and a little pout on his already naturally pursed lips. He wandered to the kitchen counter, then the bookshelves, sleepy gaze sweeping over them as though trying to see through a cloud. After his shelf search turned up nothing, Yeonjun slowly meandered over to the couch, lifting cushions up and checking behind the television. Soobin was quiet for a moment, enjoying the simple sight of him doing something so mundane. And it sent a frightening thrill through him as he realized he didn’t want to lose this. Not over anything. Eventually, he replied, “I think you left them on the table in the entryway.”

Yeonjun glanced up at him, eyes wide at this new piece of information. “By the keys?”

“Mhm.”

Yeonjun gave the room one last hazy survey before heading back down the hall. When he returned, his glasses were on his face, and he retrieved a cup of coffee from the kitchen before sitting down beside him.

Without giving it much thought, Soobin reached for his free hand, and to his surprise, Yeonjun easily returned his touch. They laced their fingers together, hands overlapped and resting on the table.

“Did you sleep well?”

Yeonjun clutched his coffee, raising the cup to his lips before nodding. “Yeah. Still tired, though.”

Soobin could understand. They had a long day yesterday. “How are you feeling beside that?”

The look Yeonjun gave him was wary. “Fine…” He didn’t want to talk about the previous night’s events. It was sensitive. But they needed to.

An ache echoed deep in his chest when Soobin recalled that Yeonjun really meant to leave him.

“There’s ibuprofen in the bathroom if you need it.”

“Okay.”

He let Yeonjun focus on his coffee for a minute, slipping his fingers from his hold. Soobin had learned that it was better not to spring too much on Yeonjun too early in the morning, otherwise he got overwhelmed. They sat there together for a while, Soobin working on prep work for his new class, and Yeonjun scrolling through his phone. It was nice. He had missed these mindless mornings with him when he was away. They made him more energized for the day, and gave him a reason to endure everything at the academy.

“Are you…mad at me…?” Yeonjun eventually asked, sounding fragile and unsure of himself. Soobin blinked, surprised by the sudden question, abandoning his work in favor of looking at Yeonjun instead. He sat curled in on himself, phone face-down on the table. He could barely meet Soobin’s gaze, choosing instead to focus on the collar of his shirt.

“Why would I be mad at you?” he asked, hoping the only color in his tone was confusion. Anger was not the emotion that the events of the previous night left him with. An emptiness certainly, as he realized he no longer knew what to do in the position he found himself in. He was lost. There was no star in the sky to guide him, and no one he could turn to for help or even consolation. The only person he had ever loved was hurting, and Soobin had no idea how to help him. He didn’t even know how to reach out a hand.

“I-” Yeonjun stared blankly at him; maybe Soobin’s question was not the answer he expected. “Because…of everything. I- I fucked up, hyung. And I’m sorry. I don’t know why I did…any of it,” he murmured, exhaustion blowing out with his sigh.

“Hey.” Soobin spoke gently, linking their hands once more. “You didn’t fuck up. It’s okay.”

A dozen questions raced through his head, most of them boiling down to why Yeonjun would leave, but he swallowed them back. It wouldn’t be fair to bombard him now.

“I did, though,” Yeonjun insisted, and he squeezed Soobin’s hand, maybe in an attempt to steady himself. “I love you,” he said quietly. “D-don’t say it back. Or don’t feel like you have to. I’m just letting you know. I do, and I don’t know what I was thinking. I just…I want you to be happy. And I think I get in the way of your happiness sometimes.”

Soobin didn’t know what to say. All of Yeonjun’s words sent him into turmoil, and the last sentence was the only thing he could latch on to. “I’m happier with you than I’ve ever been without you,” he said quietly, and squeezed his hand back. “That…that’s not your decision to make for me. If you really want to leave…please at least say goodbye. Tell me. That’s all I ask. Please.”

When he risked a glance at Yeonjun, he saw his eyes were watery and rimmed with red. As soon as he saw Soobin watching him, he shook his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“But if you do.”

Soobin was being serious. Waking up and finding Yeonjun gone one day would hurt infinitely more than having to endure his goodbyes. Nothing scared him more than being abandoned. He could endure it if he had some warning, some indication that his pieces would be breaking and he would need to find the strength to put them back together. If he didn’t have that…Soobin was afraid he would be left shattered on the floor like yesterday’s bottle of vodka.

Yeonjun must have seen the pleading in his eyes, because he took a deep breath and nodded. “If I do,” he echoed. And that, at least, put Soobin more at ease.

“Can I see your feet?” he eventually asked, gently taking his hand from Yeonjun.

“That would sound so weird out of context,” Yeonjun informed him, maybe in an attempt to lighten the mood, but lifted his leg up to rest on Soobin’s lap. He graced the joke with a smile. The cuts were still visible, little slivers of red dotting the underside of his foot. They didn’t look too deep, though, and showed no signs of getting worse. He checked Yeonjun’s other foot as well, but the story was mostly the same.

“I still think you should see a doctor,” Soobin eventually concluded. “Just to be safe.”

Yeonjun frowned and looked at his own feet. “It doesn’t seem that bad to me. I think it’ll heal in a couple days, I was just being dumb.”

Soobin hesitated before adding, “Not just about the cuts. I think you need to see a doctor about your weight loss.”

Yeonjun glanced up at him, eyes sharp, immediately defensive. It was as if he had cast a net of barbed wire around himself, stopping Soobin from coming any closer with the promise of prickled pain and rejection. “What? Why?”

“You’re so thin, Yeonjun-ah. I’m worried. It doesn’t seem very healthy.” Soobin wanted to phrase it kindly. “I just think a second opinion would be good.”

“I’m not going,” Yeonjun flat-out refused, and Soobin wanted to be patient with him. He did.

“Why not?”

“Because I’m managing myself perfectly fine. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that, I see dietary professionals on a weekly basis.” He sounded surprisingly superior when he said it, not even arguing, just informing Soobin that he was wrong and taking a sip of his coffee. Like the words had been put into his mouth by someone he respected, and he had no reason to question them. Even when Soobin needed him to step back and see things objectively. There must be managers and dieticians in his life who were essentially paid to lie to him about his weight, faceless people that Soobin could never meet dictating the way his boyfriend looked. And that was really fucked up.

“The modeling industry has a very different idea of what is and isn’t fine.”

Soobin just wanted him to understand that whatever lens he was seeing his body through was so far removed from the reality everyone else saw.

“Well, I’m in the modeling industry. So, I’m sorry, but I really don’t care what other people think.”

Soobin simply stared at him for a moment. He could already tell that arguing the point further would do no good. Yeonjun’s heels had been dug in; he wouldn’t budge on this particular point, no matter what had happened the night before. His eyebrows were up, a sure sign that he was willing to fight on this one, waiting for Soobin to make a challenging remark just so he could jump on it and tear him to pieces.

“Fine,” he relented. “Just don’t think I’m oblivious to it, because I’m not.”

Yeonjun didn’t lift his gaze from his cup, and replied, “I never said you were.”

Soobin sighed. He didn’t want to fight. Not again.

And Yeonjun seemed to catch on, because he amended quietly, “I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It came out wrong.”

“It’s fine.” Things needed to go back to normal somehow. He got up from the table and went into the kitchen, pulling out ingredients to make lunch for the afternoon. Yeonjun typically packed them, but he didn’t last night, for obvious reasons. “I’ll be at the academy for most of the day.”

Yeonjun nodded, following him in. “New term starts tomorrow, right?”

“Mhm.”

Yeonjun was silent for a moment, but he kept tracing the rim of his mug, gazing at the wall in thought. “Do you like any of them?”

“Who?”

“...the students.”

Soobin gave him a strange look. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Like…your homeroom kids. What are they like?”

Yeonjun never asked about the academy since he had escaped it. “They’re…fine?” But the answer wasn’t satisfactory enough, and Yeonjun was still looking at him with eyes Soobin didn’t like.

“But do you like any of them?”

After a few seconds of awkward silence, he realized what he was trying to get at. “Oh, god, no, Yeonjun. I’m not sure if you realize this, but I don’t make a habit of being interested in my students.”

That sounded like a very hypocritical thing for him to say to Yeonjun, of all people, and Yeonjun arched an eyebrow.

“Seriously,” he insisted. “It’s never happened.”

“That…is literally not true.”

“It is. I was interested in you before I knew you were a student.”

Yeonjun glared at him, but he also looked mildly impressed. “That’s a very nice loophole you found.”

“It’s not a loophole, it’s just what happened.”

“Is that what you’ll say to the headmaster when he finds out?”

Soobin shot him a sharp look. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Hypothetically,” Yeonjun added. “Is that what you would say?”

They had never had this conversation before. In fact, Soobin thought they were in agreement to purposely steer clear of it entirely.

“I…don’t know.”

“You’ve never thought about it?”

He thought about it all the time. Even after a year and a half of dating, his anxiety around being discovered still hadn’t eased.

“I haven’t done anything wrong,” Soobin said tersely, packing each little container of food neatly into a bag. “So why would I worry about something like that?”

“You always talked about me getting you in trouble,” Yeonjun reminded him. “Seemed like you were worried then.”

Finally, Soobin looked his way again. “Yeonjun, why are you bringing this up right now?”

He shrugged. “No reason, really. I was just curious.”

It was such a strange thing for him to drag out.

“I don’t work today,” Yeonjun said, abruptly changing topics. “So I’ll probably just stay here if that’s cool.”

“Yeonjun, you live here.”

“Oh.” Yeonjun blinked. “Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.”

Soobin frowned. “Are you sure you’re feeling alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, I just…” His words faded out, as if he had forgotten what he was trying to say halfway through speaking.

“Eat,” Soobin simply said, retrieving the naengmyeon he had made yesterday from the fridge. When Yeonjun stared at the container of cold noodles, looking lost, Soobin prompted, “I’m serious. You need to eat something.”

Yeonjun shook his head, averting his gaze from the food. “I can’t eat that.”

“Okay, what can you eat?”

“I-” Yeonjun swallowed. “I’ll make something later.”

“No, I’m sorry, but I can’t leave until I know you’ve eaten.”

“Soobin, it’s none of your business,” Yeonjun said sharply, and he sounded genuinely upset. Soobin had once again managed to push him too far. The line remained completely invisible even after over a year of this, and Soobin still managed to cross it all the time, getting knocked back three steps in the process. “If I don’t feel like eating, you can’t make me. I’m not hungry. It’s not very complicated. Just…just leave it alone, okay?”

He had hit a wall. Soobin could no longer simply tell Yeonjun to do something and expect him to listen. Things weren’t so black and white anymore.

“Fine,” he said stiffly. They didn’t talk again. Soobin left the room to find the rest of his suit and retrieve his work bag. Yeonjun shut himself in his sewing room before he could say goodbye.

It felt like they had left the day on a bad note already, and the morning wasn’t even half over. He thought Yeonjun would still be angry with him that evening.

But when he got home, he found his suit for the next day already ironed out and neatly hung up. Yeonjun cooked dinner, and ate with him at the table. He felt a wave of relief, sitting there with him, watching him eat. Not a lot, but enough to ease his fear a bit.

And Soobin could tell it was his way of apologizing. Maybe even acknowledging that there was a problem, and he knew they would have to reach some sort of resolution. If that were really the case, then things would be alright.

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

If Yamamoto Konishi proposed that Harajuku relinquish its status as the fashion epicenter of Shibuya, and greater Tokyo as a whole, this would be detrimental not only to the integrity of the district’s artistic culture, but its reach as a progressive movement. Fashion has been the driving force behind Harajuku’s economy and at the center of the district’s historical significance for nearly half a century. Fashion-based self-expression as a form of protest was not seen…

Rubbing a hand over the backs of his eyes, Yeonjun pushed his laptop away, the glaring brightness beginning to garner a headache behind his temples. This paper should have been finished yesterday, but he felt like he was just sitting here rehashing ideas from previous essays. His design professor was obsessed with Japanese street fashion as a historical movement, though, so he knew he wouldn’t be escaping the topic anytime soon.

Deciding to take a quick break, he took a sip of his coffee and swiped his phone open, noticing he had two new text messages. Both were from Kai, with the first being a gif of baby penguins tripping over each other in the snow. The second read:

jung huening

From 1-10 how busty are you rn

Yeonjun stared at the text message in confusion. And then he glanced down at his chest, choosing to take a fair survey.

Me

busty??? fuck idk a 6 by dude standards probably. it would be easier to ask my cup size tho. which is AA btw

jung huening

Oh my god no Im so sorry

jung huening

*busy I meant…busy… ㅜㅜ

jung huening

But uh…thank u for sharing ><

He couldn’t explain why, but Yeonjun burst out laughing, despite it being maybe the most absurd text conversation exchanged between them to date.

Me

what u didn't want to know my tit size?

Me

that’s crazy

jung huening

Not rly but i know now tho!

jung huening

Anyways…uh how B u s y are you

Me

idk why but that’s reading as bussy for me

jung huening

CHOI YEONJUN PLS

Me

SORRY

Me

i’m finishing my essay for design rn why

jung huening

I need ur coffee advice

Me

find a local shop u like and have them grind the espresso in store for u

jung huening

…ykw im gonna call u

Not even three seconds passed before his phone started ringing. With a smile on his face, Yeonjun pressed the answer button and held it out on speaker to listen.

“I meant in a coffee shop, you know,” Kai said immediately. “Not…recommendations on how I should take my espresso.”

“Oh. Well you should have clarified. You’re really not doing well with the whole texting thing today, you know that?”

“You got bussy from busy.”

“To be fair, you typed busty first.”

“I love how you answered that question without a second thought, too.”

“You’ve asked me weirder shit before. And I am your bustiest friend.”

“You cause me so much discomfort every day,” Kai informed him, and Yeonjun could imagine the pained cringe on his face.

“Good,” he hummed happily. “So, why do we need a coffee meetup exactly?”

Kai hesitated before answering, “Well, uh, you remember Park Eunji?”

“Yeah. Corsets and short plaid skirts. She and I buy our boots from the same place. Why?”

“She…uh, kinda asked me…on a date?”

“That’s great!” Yeonjun immediately burst out, a bright spark of happiness flickering to life in his chest for his friend. He could feel himself smiling widely even though Kai couldn’t see him. “Wait, you said yes, right?”

He hesitated longer this time. “Is that what I was supposed to say?”

“Oh, god.” Immediately, that spark flickered, and he sensed he would need to do some major damage control. “What did you say?”

“I said…I’d think about it…”

Yeonjun groaned, covering his face with his hand. “Kai,” he whined. “You’re so much better than this, come on.”

“I don’t know if I want to date her!” Kai protested, sounding defensive even over the phone. “She’s intense! I’ve never dated anyone before!”

“That’s why you go on a date,” he tried to clue him in. “So you can see if you’re compatible.”

Kai groaned this time, a deep dissatisfied sound. “Look, can we just meet somewhere and talk it over? This is confusing.”

Yeonjun glanced at his computer clock, and sighed. “I can’t today, babe, I’m sorry. Soobin will be home in an hour or so, and I need to start on dinner.”

“Housewife,” Kai muttered, sounding genuinely disappointed.

“Shut up. I’m really sorry, though. Can we meet up sometime this week?”

“Sure,” Kai agreed, but he still seemed kind of dejected, and Yeonjun felt guilty.

“When are you seeing Park Eunji next?”

“Friday. We have coding together.”

“Okay, we’ll just meet up before then.”

“Sure,” he said again. “Talk to you later.”

“Bye.” Yeonjun hung up, but the pit of guilt in his stomach lingered. He wanted to meet with Kai, it was just a bad time. He still needed to finish this paper, and he wasn’t lying about Soobin coming home soon.

Still, one word rang in his ears. Housewife.

It was stupid, and obviously not true. He and Soobin split household responsibilities just fine. The difference was, Yeonjun barely knew anything about Soobin’s life outside of their apartment and Soobin got anxious when he stepped out for longer than an hour without telling him where he was going and how long he planned to be there.

Was it worth being resentful over? Not really.

But that was really the first time he’d ever heard Kai speak so darkly, plainly upset about Yeonjun’s situation and the way it inconvenienced him. Usually, Kai would at least attempt to hide his dissatisfaction with a little smile, or giggle, or something. Yet this time he didn’t even try.

Maybe he did it on purpose, because he knew Yeonjun would pick up on something like that, just to make his thoughts spiral in the way they were right now.

As soon as he said it, Yeonjun’s guilt only deepened. Kai wasn’t that conniving. And Yeonjun shouldn’t just sit here and project his insecurities on him, as if making Kai the instigator rather than the actual problem at hand. Then again, he wasn’t sure if there was even a problem at all, or if he was making it up entirely in his head.

Sighing, he realized sitting here and goading on his own anxiety only made things worse, especially when he had a paper that was technically due yesterday still sitting open and unfinished in front of him.

However, just as he pulled his laptop back up to continue writing, the doorbell rang. He glanced over at it, a frown tugging on his lips. They never had guests. And then a thought struck him. Maybe it was his at-home acrylic nail kit finally arriving. He ordered it over a month ago when he got the idea to start customizing his own nails, but it was shipping from the U.S. and took forever to process. By the time it got here, he figured he would have a good enough explanation for Soobin as to why he needed it, but the thought had somehow made its way to the back of his mind. Whatever. He would bullshit up an excuse that he needed it for his classes, and Soobin would give him his confused dimpled smile, and it would be fine.

With a bounce in his step, he got up from the couch and headed for the door, pulling it open in excitement.

The excitement fled from his body instantly, frozen over with shock when he saw who stood behind it rather than what. He should slam the door and lock it. He knew he should, but the thought didn’t even occur to him. There was no room to process it.

His father’s face was cold and set like always, and he wore a suit Yeonjun recognized. He used to never wear the same suit twice. His hands rested rigidly at his sides, mouth drawn in a thin line, and his eyes looked harsh. They were almost the same height now, but he hated the few centimeters his father had on him.

“You look skinny.”

A simple hello would always be too much to ask.

“How did you get this address?” Yeonjun eventually found his voice, and tried to craft it into a sharp weapon, something meant to keep the man in front of him a far distance away. “Who told you where I live?”

“Your mother,” he replied evenly, not intimidated in the slightest, and he didn’t sound like he was lying. Then again, he never did.

“Go away.” He tried to sound firm, desperately wanting to preserve the boundary between them, but he knew his father wouldn’t care. “She had no right to tell you that.”

“Yeonjun.” He always spoke like he was tired, like the mere action of having a conversation with him exhausted every ounce of patience he had. “Let me inside. I want to talk to you about something.”

Talk to him. Never with him.

Of course he wanted to say no, to deny him entry and close the door, but his strength fled him with the faint, glimmering hope that maybe his father had changed and he really did want to see him.

“You can’t stay,” he said quietly, feeling weak even as he held the door open and let him walk into his home. As he walked past, Yeonjun caught the achingly familiar scent of cigar smoke. At least Soobin wasn’t here. He couldn’t bear to let him witness this.

“Believe me, I have no intentions of staying.” Then, his father frowned, a look that inspired cold dread in him even now, and took in his apartment. “Are you living with someone else?”

“Is that really what you’re here to ask me?”

His father clicked his tongue, obviously disappointed by his less than warm reception. “Just attempting conversation. I wish you weren’t so brash all the time; you know, people would find you far more pleasant if you indulged in the pleasantries of basic human discussion.”

Yeonjun struggled not to let his irritation show on his face. “I don’t care how pleasant you think I am, to be totally honest. What do you want?”

A judgemental arched eyebrow told him that he had no choice but to follow directions.

Gritting his teeth, he changed his tone, and asked, “How have you been?”

Deciding it was a satisfactory adjustment, his father took to wandering further into his apartment while remarking, “Oh, ostensibly well, here and there, depending on how you look at things.”

It was the least subtle invitation to continue asking questions. He just wanted to talk about himself, and he wanted Yeonjun to take pity on him. At least he wasn’t drunk, although Yeonjun could very much see the influence of cocaine in his laissez faire attitude and his wandering gaze. He had definitely come here with a purpose, but it would be a miracle if he remembered it by the end of their conversation.

“Your work?”

His father waved a dismissive hand as he surveyed the living room. “Fine.”

If that were the case, he wouldn’t be here.

“I’m not giving you money, if that’s what you’re here for.”

His gaze was still sharp as it turned on him, harsh and unforgiving. “Do you really think I need your help, of all people? I’ve seen what you do for a living. It’s incredibly undignified, and to think I raised you as a businessman. Years of education down the drain, millions of won in tuition and tutoring, only for you to spend all those years making a disgrace of our family name instead.”

Yeonjun stared at him, realizing he should have known better than to hope that he had changed. “What family? There’s only ever been just the three of us, and there’s not even that anymore. It’s not you and mom, or me and mom, or anything. It’s never been all three of us, and it’s certainly never been you and me. There is no family.”

“And there never will be, apparently, considering we messed you up so badly that there won’t even be a second generation. I used to be disappointed, but I've come to realize that it's probably for the best.”

“I want you to leave,” he decided suddenly. He shouldn’t have let him in in the first place. It was like welcoming a disease into your home and then getting upset when everything inside began to wither and die. It’s just what he did.

“Yeonjun.” His father gave him a condescending look and slipped his suit jacket off. It looked more wrinkled than Yeonjun recalled, and he was reminded of the days when his mother would iron out his father’s suits for him in the mornings before breakfast. “Don’t be petulant, you know it irritates me. Sit.”

Even as his father spoke, he settled himself in the armchair he and Soobin had bought as more of a courtesy than anything else. They both always sat on the sofa, and they never had guests over. His father was maybe the first person to sit there since they had gotten it.

And now Yeonjun would never be able to look at that chair the same way.

“I mean it,” he tried insisting, as he realized that Soobin would be coming home at some point. He thought that it would be a quick conversation, that his father would admit his funds had run dry from gambling, and Yeonjun would cave and give him the money he asked for, and then he would be gone, completely out of his life for another six months at least, and everything would be fine until the next time.

But it seemed like he was making a point of staying, for whatever reason, and he just couldn’t have that.

His father wore a pitying expression, but gave no sign that he would be listening. “You’re a terrible host,” he noted, and then gestured once more to the couch.

It struck him, then, that sometimes his father really thought their relationship was fine. That, when he got high enough, he forgot about all of the terrible words they had exchanged between them, and forgave him in his own twisted way. His father wasn’t angry with him right now. He clearly disliked him, yes, but not with the maliciousness Yeonjun had prepared to endure.

When Yeonjun sat, his father said, “For future reference, it’s customary to offer guests beverages and an ashtray. I understand that you probably don’t have people over often, but I really do recommend honing the skill. You’ll thank me later.”

Yeonjun sighed. “I’m not doing that. And you’re not allowed to smoke in here.”

“Why not?” His father already had a hand in his discarded suit jacket, obviously rifling for his silver cigar case.

“My boyfriend won’t like it.”

Soobin would complain about the smell for days. He had a sensitive nose. They would have to light every candle in the house just to cover it up.

“Oh.” His father’s eyebrows shot up, and he very purposefully removed the case from his pocket then. “Your boyfriend? I didn’t realize we were being so open about things now, how fascinating. Well, Yeonjun, to be totally honest, as you put it, I don’t give a fuck about what your boyfriend likes.” He slipped a cigar from the case, and made a show of lighting it, and Yeonjun could only watch in frustrated silence. “So, is it his house then? His money?”

“No. It’s ours. I wouldn’t expect you to get it, considering you latched yourself to my mother like a parasite and tried to drain her of every coin she had.”

A wicked smile made its way onto his father’s face, and he blew smoke out at him before remarking, “And you’ve got her tongue, too, did you know that? Both of you are a pain in the ass to try and have a conversation with. At least you know where you got it from.”

“Don’t say that about her,” he replied coldly, even though he knew some things would never change. “Could you just tell me what you want so you can get out?”

“Can’t I want to see my son?”

Shocked by the audacity of such a thing, Yeonjun hissed, “Oh, so I’m your son now? When you want something from me? But I wasn’t your son when you kicked me out of your house because your friend tried to assault me, and that was somehow my fault?”

His father set his jaw, and that airy mirth had disappeared from his gaze. “Still lying, I see. Do you tell everyone that? That you were almost assaulted? You’re not a girl, Yeonjun, no one wants you as badly as you seem to think they do. You still don’t even know what that word means. He didn’t even touch you. We both know you’re exaggerating for attention, and that’s exactly what you did back then, too. You did it with Park Bokyoung’s boy, and when it didn’t work that time, you did it again with Lee Heechul. Why are you so desperate to be a victim?”

It felt like a torrent of icy water cutting through him, threatening to claw him down to the depths of wherever it came from, somewhere he had already escaped, and he couldn’t even move.

His father took his silence as a sign of guilt, the way he always did, and he wore a satisfied expression. “See? As soon as someone calls you out on your bullshit, you suddenly have nothing to say. I feel bad for that boyfriend of yours, you probably say he’s violating you every other week. It must be infuriating, I honestly find it difficult to believe anyone would willingly put up with that.” Then, he glanced around their apartment, as though really seeing it for the first time. His gaze lingered on the full bookshelves, the meticulously hung photographs, and their potted plants, judging them all individually and sizing them up against a prejudice he’d already walked in with. That gay men lacked strength and masculinity, and that the home they created was a crime in it of itself. “Then again, I get the feeling he’s probably a pushover, and a pitiful one at that.”

“Don’t talk about him,” Yeonjun managed to find the words, and spit them out. “You don’t even know him.”

“Do I need to?” His father’s brow raised sternly, dark and cruel. “I find it hard to believe anyone would date you out of their own free will.”

The strange thing was, Yeonjun genuinely believed his father wasn’t being intentionally cruel. He thought they were both in on the same joke, but delivered it terribly, horribly, making him feel stupid and selfish for even wanting to be in a relationship in the first place. Like he was wasting Soobin’s time, and taking advantage of his kindness. Maybe there was some truth in his father’s judgment, and he was unintentionally keeping Soobin bound to his side.

“Oh, for god’s sake, Yeonjun, stop it,” his father suddenly said, looking disgusted. “Why the hell are you crying?”

He stared, then pressed a hand to the backs of his cheeks. They were dry. “I’m not.”

His father took a long drag of his cigar, before saying, “Yes, you are. And over such a little joke, too, are you really that sensitive?”

“I’m not crying,” he argued more insistently this time, although the frustration of being constantly accused of things that weren’t true started to build in him.

His father gave him another pitying look, as if he didn’t believe him but let it go for his sake. “Do you really enjoy living like this?” his father asked, voice cool and impassive as he continued to look around the room. “It looks like a woman’s house.”

Yeonjun stared, sounding incredulous as he asked, “What does that even mean?”

His father shrugged in a way that had always felt dismissive, even since Yeonjun was a child. “I just suppose that when I think of two men living together, I don’t think of…potted plants and expensive ceramic dishware.” He looked at Yeonjun’s orchid in particular distaste, the pink and white color of it offensive to him somehow.

“What’s feminine about having plates to eat off of?”

“Oh, nothing.” There he went again with that dismissive tone of voice. “It just seems like a lot of money to put into something so purely aesthetic. Cosmetic, you might say. It looks shallow.”

“What we do with our money is none of your business,” he replied sharply.

His father seemed amused by his reply. “It seems like you have quite a lot of it between the two of you. For the middle class, at least. Tell me, what does this boyfriend of yours do? Are his parents wealthy?”

Yeonjun glanced away, knowing he wouldn’t be able to spin any white lies with his father looking at him so closely. “No. He’s in academia.”

“A wasteful career. He should change his mind while he still has the chance. It’s a shame he doesn’t come from a good family, either, at least we could have taken advantage of that.” Then, conspiratorially, like they were in on the same thing, his father leaned forward and remarked, “You know, I always thought this was a conversation meant to be had between father and daughter, but conventionality was never a kindness you reserved for us, was it?”

Yeonjun could smell the rum-tinged, musky scent of his cigar and turned his head slightly. “I don’t see why it makes any difference.”

His father’s eyes were distant now, looking somewhere past him as he raised his cigar back to his lips. After a few moments, he said, “I always wished we had a daughter, you know.”

His throat felt somewhat tight as he admitted, “I know.”

If they wanted a daughter so badly, why didn’t they just have one? Yeonjun would have a sister, then. They would have loved her more, and that would have been okay. He could have proven himself as a man by being a good older brother. But he wasn’t even given the chance.

“But knowing our luck, she would have been just as disappointing,” his father lamented, feeling so fucking sorry for himself, and Yeonjun swallowed his rising anger.

“If your daughter was gay, you would have gotten over it,” he replied, cutting and honest. “You would have loved her anyway. It’s not about the fact that I’m gay, it’s about the fact that you can’t bring yourself to see me as a man. And that’s your own fault. Not mine.”

His father returned his harsh stare. “You can’t even admit that you’re a disgrace, the only smear on your mother’s good name-”

“This isn’t about her!”

“Doesn’t it make you sick?” his father just kept pushing, and shoved the stub of his cigar into a mug, Soobin’s favorite pastel green one. “That you’re that fucking selfish? It’s always been that way. With her, with me, with everyone in your life. You just take, and take, and take. I’ve never met such an ungrateful child.”

The strong blockade in his throat, the one he had been carefully constructing since this conversation began, burst at that moment, and he found himself shouting. “If you hate me so much, then why are you here? Who said that my life was any of your fucking business?”

His father watched him in disgust, taking his outburst of emotion as a sign of weakness and answering coldly, “Of course it’s my business. You’re my son.”

A headache had begun to bloom right behind Yeonjun’s temples. He knew his eyes were rimmed with red, and he hated himself for how easily he fell apart, devolving into a mess of useless emotions that had never gotten him anywhere before. Especially when faced with the impermeable wall of stone that his father had always been. “When it’s convenient for you,” he stated, his voice sounding too loud even to his own ears. “When you can throw it in my face. And at this point in my life, it’s less insulting to be called a disgrace than to be called your son.”

His father scoffed, words taut and frigid as he said, “You’re always so fucking dramatic, Yeonjun. I’ve never done anything to you, and yet you treat me like the villain of your life’s story. You just want someone to be angry at.”

Yeonjun stared, hurt and overwhelmed as he simply said, “I just want you to care about me.”

“You were the one who told me that you never wanted to see me again,” his father countered, and for once, his own voice began to grow in volume. “And I listened. I did exactly what you asked. I never coddled you, or lied to you, or tried to force you to like me-”

“That’s not what it means to be a father,” Yeonjun cut him off. “You’re not supposed to be a stranger. I was just another box checked off on your how-to-guide to a perfect life. And once you had that box checked, you abandoned it. You never tried to understand me, or even know me at all. Me cutting you out made no difference in your life, because you never wanted to see me, anyway. So don’t act like I ruined our relationship. We never had one to begin with.”

His father opened his mouth to retort, but at the moment, the door opened, freezing their conversation to a point of dead silence.

Soobin’s soft, quiet voice managed to cut through the room. “What is going on in here?”

As soon as he saw Soobin standing there in his suit, glasses framing his wide eyes, tired from work, but still here and standing straight, so many different emotions crashed over him. Relief, guilt, shame, and fear created a whirlpool inside of him and he wanted to just tear it out and run from it all.

It was fear, mostly, as he watched his father size Soobin up the same way he had evaluated their apartment. Except, while his early judgment had already been passed, this time something seemed to take him by surprise. It was the pleasantness of it all that terrified him, though, like his father found something he hadn’t initially been looking for, and it made his day. And then, poisonously, he said in complete satisfaction, “Oh, Yeonjun. You didn’t tell me your boyfriend was closer to my age than yours. How stupid can you get?”

“Leave him out of it,” he said harshly just as Soobin stepped into the room. Yeonjun watched his expression grow cold, more flat and unforgiving than he had ever seen, and he wanted to beg him to just leave and let him sort this out but he couldn’t form the words.

“I think that’s enough.” Soobin sounded completely calm, but icy and reserved, leaving little room for argument. His eyes were narrow. Wickedly sharp and dark, and completely unfamiliar to him. “Yeonjun asked you to leave. I think it would be best if you listened.”

Still, his father always had to be in control of any given situation and he raised his chin, as if he was showing Soobin an act of courtesy by choosing to speak with him. Yeonjun should have said that he was rich. He should have said that Soobin was fucking loaded, and more important than his father would ever be, if only to see him humbled.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” He used the tone reserved for business partners he met in distaste, when their personal character or practices offended him, but he had no choice but to strike a deal.

Soobin raised his eyebrows, and spoke coldly. “That’s correct. I have never had any interest in meeting you.”

As horrible as the situation was, it created such an odd picture, one that Yeonjun had to stare at with bated breath as he had no idea what to say. Soobin stood a good few centimeters taller than his father, and he still managed to seem utterly at ease, if not maybe a bit displeased with what he’d found upon coming home. His father, on the other hand, didn’t like when other men held their ground with him. It was unfamiliar.

This must be twice as offensive to him since he knew Soobin was gay. A homosexual looking down on him and speaking as though he were inferior, all in a home that insulted his masculine sensibilities so much. It must be infuriating.

All of a sudden, though, Yeonjun realized he didn’t want Soobin to be his savior. He knew he could keep quiet and let things play out, that Soobin would protect him, and he would know how to make his father leave. But he needed to learn how to be that person his father didn’t like. The kind that kept their head high and didn’t let him intimidate them into submission. He couldn’t let Soobin handle this for him.

So, he stepped forward and tried to emulate Soobin’s calm tone, the one he always leaned on when he needed guidance. He rested a hand on Soobin’s shoulder. “We’ll finish our discussion outside.”

“That’s not your call to make,” his father gave him a sharp look, taking the chance to avert his eyes from Soobin, but Yeonjun didn’t care.

“No,” he countered calmly. “It’s not up to you. If you still have something to say to me, then you can say it outside. If not, you’re more than welcome to just leave.”

“Yeonjun-” Soobin obviously didn’t like the idea, but he cut him off.

“Those are the options.”

His father remained silent for a moment, eyes narrowed and icy, expecting Yeonjun to cave, but was met only with a dead quiet. “Your mother will be so interested to hear about this,” his father finally remarked but walked with him towards the hall.

He tried to ignore the foreboding sensation that crept down his back at the words. His father wouldn’t actually tell her. As soon as they were out the door, he summarized, “So, you’ve told me I’m a liar and a disgrace, and that you don’t like my boyfriend. Is there anything else you’d like to say or can we be done?”

“I never said I don’t like your boyfriend. I think it’s a bit funny, and I think you’re ridiculously naive, but I don’t dislike him at all. For a homosexual, he’s quite imposing. Just…I mean, I really do think you’re a bit stupid.”

He ignored the derogatory comment. There were bigger issues at hand. “And why exactly do you think that?”

“Yeonjun, how old is he?”

“Does it matter?” he snapped. He was sick of everyone judging Soobin just because of his age. He wasn’t old. And his age wasn’t the defining point of their relationship.

“Of course it matters.” His father wore that superior sympathetic look, as if doing Yeonjun a favor by letting him in on some secret. “And your refusal to give me a number just makes me think he’s even older than he looks.”

Frustrated, he said, “He’s only thirty-four.”

His father chuckled to himself. “Oh, I see. Only thirty-four. And you’re how old now?”

Yeonjun stalled for a moment before muttering, “Nineteen.”

“You’re not even twenty yet?” His father sighed, but he still wore that insidiously satisfied smile. “Oh, Yeonjun. You can’t really think that man likes you.”

“He does,” he replied stiffly. “And I know what you’re thinking, but it’s true.”

“Yeonjun, he’s sick and he’s using you.”

“Don’t.”

“What? Don’t call him sick? It’s the truth. You realize how disgusting it is for a middle-aged man to seek sexual satisfaction from a teenage boy, don’t you? Not only is it unnatural, but it’s predatory as well. I really did think you were smarter than that, especially considering all the things you’ve victimized yourself for. If you were a girl, maybe you’d see how wrong it is.”

The phrase he constantly heard growing up. If you were a girl…If only you were a girl…If you’d just been born a girl… It haunted him. The last thing he wanted to do was hear it now.

“Well, I’m not a girl, and it’s not about sex. And more than anything else, it’s none of your fucking business.”

“Always the anger.” His father sighed again, and tried to pat his shoulder, but Yeonjun slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me.” And, because he just wanted to be taken seriously, he said, “Please. Just…just leave if that’s really all you had to say. If you really just came here just to remind me that you hate me, then go.”

His father’s eyebrows were raised, and Yeonjun couldn’t tell if it was an expression of challenge, anger, or disdain. “Is that what you think this is about?”

Exhausted and feeling as though he had been standing in a rainstorm for the past hour, heavy and cold, he just sighed. “Yeah. That’s what I think this is about.”

“Interesting.” His father adjusted his suit jacket, ever the sign that he was really preparing to leave, and said, “I actually came with good news. I thought you’d like to hear it directly.”

“And what would that be?”

His father smiled, the same smile that never reached his cold black eyes. “Your mother and I have decided to get back together.”

“Don’t.” Yeonjun spoke harshly before he could even let the sentence sink in. “Don’t you dare. Just- just leave, please. Don’t lie. That’s worse.”

“Why would I lie about that?”

Yeonjun shook his head, trying to shove the sharp pain pricking in his throat from the possibility. “She would tell me.”

His father tilted his head, that same cold, steely look in his eyes that he would sometimes get when he thought Yeonjun wasn’t being honest about something. “She says that you got in an argument and that you’ve been avoiding her since. And, looking at your situation here, I suppose I can understand why.” He cast his gaze behind Yeonjun, as if he could see through the front door, back into his apartment with Soobin and the little life they had together. “I’m assuming that you don’t want her finding out about this. Since you told her you were living with a friend.”

“Don’t tell her,” he whispered, the reality of it suddenly becoming so much more real and severe. “Please, Dad, I’m serious. Please, don’t tell her.”

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had referred to his father as such.

“Why?” His father cocked his head, so clearly bent on getting another rise out of him. In his own sick way, Yeonjun knew he found his situation entertaining. “Why keep it a secret, if there’s nothing wrong? Is it because you realize there’s something really fucked up about it?”

“I’m happy,” Yeonjun bit out. “I’m happy, and I don’t want you ruining it.”

“You can be as happy as you want,” his father agreed. “But that doesn’t make you any less stupid. I bet Taehyun’s father wouldn’t let something like this slide. He would have beaten it right out of that kid. It’s the approach we should have taken with you from the start.” What an awful thing to say. What a horrible, awful thing for him to say, acting like the abuse Taehyun endured was a good parenting trick they missed out on. And his father had the audacity to sigh. “Hindsight, I suppose.”

Again, the urge to scream at him crashed over Yeonjun, so powerful, threatening to sweep him up in the catharsis that it promised. He had never done anything to his father. He had always tried to be a good son. But his efforts didn’t matter, because the things his father hated were the things Yeonjun couldn’t change. He hated that Yeonjun looked like his mother more than he looked like him. He hated that he was different, and changed how everyone else saw their family. And more than likely, he probably blamed Yeonjun for ruining his life.

His father once said that he only started doing drugs after he was born.

“You’re not getting back with my mom,” Yeonjun flatly denied. It was all he could think about. “I don’t care about anything else you do. Just stay away from her.”

“Stay away? Like you’ve been staying away from her since you graduated?”

He accepted, then, that his father wasn’t lying. But he hated that it was true.

“Yes, like that!” Yeonjun threw back at him. “Because I’m not good for her! And at least I can recognize it. You and I are the same, you know? We just make her unhappy. So stop being so fucking selfish, and leave her alone.”

“We are not the same,” his father growled. “Don’t even think of saying something like that.”

“Yes, we are,” he argued viciously. “We’re sad, selfish people who only hurt the ones we love. We’re destructive, and mean, and people regret loving us in the first place. It’s what we do. I learned it from you.”

He expected his father to yell at him, maybe to tell him to shut the fuck up and say that they were nothing alike. But he didn’t. He stayed silent for a moment, then conceded in a quiet voice, “Maybe that’s true.” And when he looked at Yeonjun again, his eyes were almost in focus. Almost really looking at him, instead of just pretending. “Is that all you think you learned from me?”

Yeonjun’s anger had sparked, caught flame, and now flickered insecurely. “...I don’t know,” he answered.

He’d never really thought about it.

“Why didn’t you have any other kids after me?”

That was a question he had thought about his entire life. If he was such a disgrace, why couldn’t his parents just have another kid? One that made them happy, and lived up to their expectations, and took the pressure off his shoulders. If they had given him a brother or sister, maybe they would have had something worth staying together for.

And it dawned on him that maybe his parents really had divorced because of him. He was the problem. And now that he wasn’t in the house anymore, they had found a way to love each other again.

It hurt more than he thought it would.

The question seemed to surprise his father. But he was even more surprised when he actually gave him an answer. “We didn’t want to,” he replied simply, like it should have been obvious. “Not because of you. Your mother was tired. And…” He seemed to struggle with admitting something. “I found out that I was never really meant to be a father. I wasn’t good at it. I didn’t have the patience for it, as you so kindly pointed out. And so we agreed that we weren’t having another kid.”

Yeonjun was their only chance for a good child, then. And he had managed to fuck it up so badly. Because they were both adults now, perhaps his father felt like he could be honest with him.

All of a sudden, his anger was snuffed out like a candle and he felt like crying. “I’m sorry.”

His father’s resolve hardened, and he gave him a look. “Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry that I am the way I am.” Yeonjun braced his hands on the door behind him, searching for something steady and sure.

“Don’t,” his father cut him off before he could even attempt to say more. “I hate it when you ask for pity like that.”

He could get angry again, but he didn’t have the energy anymore. “I’m not asking for pity,” he said. “I’m just telling you the truth. It’s shitty for me, too.”

“I hope you don’t talk to your mother like that.”

“I do.”

His father shook his head. “I’m never going to understand you, Yeonjun.”

They would never understand each other.

“That’s fine.”

There was a silence that stretched between them after that, but Yeonjun waited because his father looked like he still had something to say. And eventually, he managed to, although it was one of the worst left-field accusations he had ever caught. “Yeonjun, are you doing drugs?”

“I- what?”

No one had ever asked him that question in his life.

But his father didn’t seem to think it was unwarranted at all. “You can tell me if you are. You’re so thin, it’s not natural. You look sick.”

Somehow it always came back to his weight with his father. He was always too fat, or too skinny. Overeating, underfed, sick, piglike, all of it.

“No,” he hissed. “I’m not like you. I don’t do cocaine knowing I’ll get away with it because I’m rich.”

The look in his eyes said that he didn’t believe him. “Your temper is even worse than usual, too, whatever you’re taking isn’t good for you.”

“I’m not taking anything,” he insisted, sharper this time. “I’m a model. I diet. It’s not anything deeper than that. I’m not fucked up like you are.”

His father’s lips curled at the razor-edged comment, but he only remarked, “If you’re that thin and not on something, then I think you might be more fucked up than me, frankly. At least I could blame the coke.”

Yeonjun couldn’t look at him anymore, vision so obscured by his anger that he had to avert his gaze. “Leave. I’m done with this conversation. I don’t know why you feel like you had to come here just to piss me off, but it’s over now, and I don’t want to see you anymore. If you were actually a decent man, you’d stay away from Mom, too.”

“Do you remember what I said earlier? That I never lied to you? That was true. I never tried to convince you that I was a decent man. I never tried to convince your mother, either, and she loves me anyway. Maybe if you stopped trying to see the world through such a rigid lens of right and wrong, your own life would be easier, too.” Then his father stepped back, fixed the collar of his suit, and remarked, “Just something to think about, Yeonjun. If you’ll take an old man’s advice, that is.” Then he glanced at their apartment one more time, pursed his lips, and turned. And then he left.

Yeonjun stared at the place where his father had stood for a long time. Long enough for the door to open behind him, and for Soobin to place his hands on his shoulders. A steadying force. An anchor amidst a storming sea. Neither of them said anything. He just felt so drained, even the thought of speaking had exhaustion creeping into his bones.

Distantly, he could feel Soobin running his fingers through his hair, his touch so comforting and gentle that Yeonjun felt as though he might fall asleep right there outside their front door. It had gotten long enough for Soobin to card his fingers through and down, tucking each strand behind his ears with care.

“I would have handled it for you,” Soobin eventually murmured in his ear, quiet and calming.

Yeonjun shook his head, undoing the careful tucking of his hair. “I needed to handle it myself.”

His entire life, he let other people be the wall between him and his father. He had too many memories of hiding behind his mother’s skirt as a child while his father scolded him loudly enough to draw the attention of the housestaff. Even as a teenager, he could never look his father in the eyes and have a conversation with him, choosing instead to avoid him entirely.

“He said that he and my mother are getting back together…”

Soobin sighed, pulling him close and resting his chin on top of his head. His breath tickled the lightest layer of his hair, but he didn’t say anything.

“He wanted a daughter. I can’t even fix that. My entire life, I just wanted to figure out what about me was so wrong to him, but he wouldn’t have loved me no matter what I did.”

“You don’t need him, Yeonjun,” Soobin said softly, rubbing comforting circles on his bicep.

“I’m so much like him, though,” he whispered, the fear of it sinking in.

“You’re not like him at all,” he firmly disagreed. “He’s cruel, and manipulative, and he’s poisoned your opinion of yourself. You’d be better off forgetting him entirely.”

Frustration rose in the back of his throat and he stepped away from Soobin, twisting the door open. “It’s not that easy.”

“I’m not saying that it's easy.” Soobin followed him inside, voice calm and steady. “I just don’t want you to dwell on this and think you’ve done something wrong.”

Yeonjun stared at their apartment, hating the scent of cigar smoke in the air and the way he suddenly saw everything through his father’s eyes. The stupid dishes, the custom upholstery, the little hand-painted pots holding sprouts for the new season on every surface. Small details Yeonjun had loved up until an hour ago. A part of him wanted to become a hurricane and tear everything to pieces. Throw the dishes against the walls, slash the cushions, and toss the pots off the balcony. Let the plants and their tiny lives shatter on the sidewalk below. Knock down all the photographs documenting everything special between him and his lover and let the glass paint the floor a dreary mosaic of disappointment.

His reaction wasn’t rational. God, he knew it, but for just a second, it would be bliss. To destroy everything just to satisfy his deep craving for pain. To sever ties with all the material things he cared about so he could move on in an instant and never waste time crying. This place that he had loved and found sanctuary in somehow became pitiful and ugly under the scrutiny of his father, and Yeonjun was terrified that he would never see it the same way again.

But he didn’t do any of that.

“I’m going to go to bed,” he said quietly, forcing his emotions inward so he appeared as nothing more than a blank slate to the person who so desperately wished he could read him. It was the one power he had over Soobin. And if he relinquished that, then he lost his only defense. “You can order whatever you want for dinner. I- I forgot to cook. Sorry.”

“Yeonjun-” Soobin reached for his hand as he brushed past him, managing to catch his fingers and hold. “I don’t care about dinner. Are you okay?”

His eyes were wide behind his glasses, coffee-brown irises inky and unreadable, but Yeonjun knew he was worried. The corners of his lips were downturned, and he hadn’t even taken his shoes off. Yeonjun wanted to tell him everything. He tried earlier, but it didn’t come out right, and he was afraid of fucking it up twice.

“Yeah,” he murmured, and stepped in to kiss Soobin’s cheek before pulling back. It wasn’t his fault. “I’m fine. Just tired. Night, hyung.”

Soobin let him go, clearly still concerned but unwilling to argue the subject and risk pushing his boundaries. Yeonjun appreciated that about him more than he had ever expressed out loud. “It’ll probably only be a couple of hours before I join you. Try and get some rest, baby. Goodnight.”

He nodded and made his way to their room, stripping his clothes off until he stood there only in boxers. But he didn’t make for the bed right away. First, he went into the closet, past the racks of fabric memories, to the relatively untouched section in the back hidden behind the sheet. When he pulled the sheet back, he just looked at the clothes for a minute, the mixture of emotions in his stomach growing more turbulent the longer he stood there.

It was funny to him, cosmically cruel in the grand scheme of things maybe, how his father always wanted a daughter, but would never forgive Yeonjun for the way he wished he could be a girl sometimes. Wouldn’t his life be easier? If his body weren’t so disgustingly masculine, he could just grow his hair out, put on a pretty outfit, and pretend for a day that he wasn’t so strange and broken. No one would look at him in disdain for holding the hand of a man as he walked down the street. They would smile at him. People in restaurants would treat them kindly. He and Soobin could order a bottle of wine and share it like a couple, so clearly on a date.

But the shape of his very person prevented him from ever living such a fantasy. His shoulders were too broad for dresses, biceps too muscular to ever look flattering. He was too tall to ever get away with wearing heels. And he knew once he even tried to indulge this faint unnatural desire, he would look at himself in the mirror and wish he would simply die.

So, the dresses stayed on their racks, only to be admired from afar and remind him of a life that would never be his.

His gaze lingered on the row of skirts for a second, though, just long enough to get his hopes up. His legs were pretty like a girl’s. Soft and slender, it wouldn’t seem so out of place for him to show them off. Queer, undoubtedly, but maybe not offensively so.

Yeonjun sucked in a breath and stepped back, letting the sheet drop back into place. What a stupid idea. Maybe his parents were right, and he just went looking for trouble. No one would let him get away with something like that. It was like asking to get spit on and called slurs by random strangers, extending an invitation to be beat up on the street.

That sort of thing was really only safe in the confines of a photo studio, protected by the reassurance that someone else put him in those clothes, and would be held responsible. And if that stopped being a safe place, then Yeonjun would just drop modeling entirely. It wasn’t worth it otherwise. Modeling gave him an opportunity to freely express himself and experiment with styles that would be terrifying to step into on his own. But if that aspect of it got taken away, if he got shoved into a compartment, with a label and an identity that did not resonate deeply with the tangled mess of his human essence, then it would no longer be worth suffering for.

He shut the closet door with a definitive click behind him and crawled into bed, pulling the sheets up to his bare shoulders. The material felt smooth and comforting bunched in his grip. A scent clung to them, a mixture of their laundry detergent, his perfume, and Soobin’s body wash. It was a nice scent, fresh and floral. Yeonjun’s perfume ruined it a little bit. Too heady and thick. It made him wonder if the scent bothered Soobin. Would he say something?

Yeonjun didn’t think he would. Soobin would be too afraid of his reaction. He kept quiet about minor discomforts like that, choosing to endure rather than address. But Yeonjun would change his perfume for him. He would use a cologne if Soobin wanted, something rich and masculine, or forgo it altogether. If Soobin just told him what he wanted.

At least his father always made it pretty fucking clear: anything but Yeonjun himself would do, really. And Yeonjun had no power to change in any way that pleased him.

He thought for just a minute, standing in the hallway outside the apartment with him, they understood each other. For half a second, his father’s tone didn’t sound disappointed or irritated with him yet again. He just sounded tired. With dark circles under his eyes and wrinkles in his suit, he was not the same man Yeonjun had grown up with. He was older, even more weathered by the world in his absence. And when Yeonjun bared to him the flaws he had inherited, his father almost seemed resigned as he agreed. They were the same in the worst of regards. That was where their shared blood led.

On the surface, as far as two direct family members went, they really couldn’t be more different. Yeonjun barely shared any physical features with him apart from his height and strong eyebrows; the rest all came from his mother. They had different beliefs, different mindsets, and even different memories of Yeonjun’s childhood. They grew up in two different times, no matter how much Yeonjun hated that excuse. And even worse was the fact that his father was right when he pointed out how his age lined up more closely with Soobin’s than Yeonjun’s own. But didn’t that just prove everyone wrong? That age really made no difference at all when it came to prejudice? Soobin outgrew his internal biases in favor of accepting that love was simply love and that was that. Although it wasn’t perfect, and he still had a long way to go, Soobin chose him and what they had together over his own internalized misgivings. And because of that, Yeonjun was sure his father could have chosen to do the same thing. But because it was unfamiliar, because it felt harder and less uncertain, people like him held onto hate because it was all they had clutched in their destitute static fists.

His father could change if he wanted to. But he simply didn’t want to.

Yeonjun realized now that he had to accept that, with his head bowed in defeat.

Second chances only came in twos. And against all odds, Yeonjun had managed to draw a full deck of pairs for his father.

He lay there thinking about it long enough to hear footsteps coming down the hall. The shower started running. Yeonjun closed his eyes and imagined what Soobin’s day must have been like. Peaceful, maybe. Soobin liked the repetition of his daily life, always starting and ending a day in the same way. It seemed like an unburdened existence, teaching a new class of students every year, with the root of the material staying the same. Yeonjun would get bored quickly, but Soobin never seemed to mind.

He thought back to the way he had looked a few weeks ago, when Yeonjun asked about the students in his new class. Soobin seemed surprised that he would even bring it up at all, completely oblivious to a deep-seated insecurity Yeonjun held close to his chest. What if Soobin found another senior he liked?

It would be so easy for him to tell Yeonjun that he found someone new. Although his round eyes would be downcast, and he would say it quietly, there would be no room for argument. Even if Yeonjun screamed and raged at him to the best of his ability, Soobin would simply endure his anger and pain until he burnt out and left him to continue his life with a boy more special than him.

But when Yeonjun bared this insecurity to him, Soobin looked astounded that he would even worry about such a thing at all. Like it wasn’t even a possibility. And that…soothed him a bit. Soobin had no interest in those boys. That’s what he said. And in saying that, it made Yeonjun sound like the most special person in the world. Soobin broke his own rules and boundaries to pursue a relationship with him. To Soobin, he was that irresistible. No one else would ever come close to making him consider something like that again.

Thinking about it, Yeonjun felt a strange disappointment in himself for treating Soobin so poorly lately. He knew he was quick to accuse him of trying to start a fight, and that he sprung unfair questions on him out of nowhere or undeserved cold shoulders. Soobin hadn’t done anything to be the target of his bad moods. He was just the person who Yeonjun spent the most time with, and became the epicenter of his storm as a consequence.

So, when Soobin eventually did come into the bedroom, the scent of his shower still clinging to him, Yeonjun watched him with eyes narrowed against the light. Soobin didn’t notice, occupied with moisturizing his face, pushing back the wet black strands of his hair every now and again to better see his own reflection with focused dark eyes.

The contours of his body were more beautiful in the lamp light. Wearing only a towel around his waist, Yeonjun could see the faint shadowed divuts of his abs and smooth lines of his slim arms. The light cut across his jaw in a sharper shadow, accentuating the v of his face and the elegant column of his throat. Even his skin was such a pretty milky color, paler than Yeonjun’s own, with the only signs of blemish being a little scar on his arm that he explained came from play-fighting with his brother, and a round burn mark on his shoulder that Yeonjun had yet to discover the story behind. He wanted to kiss over every inch of Soobin’s body, love him purely and sweetly the way that he deserved, just to prove how much he meant to him.

How little anyone would change his mind.

When Soobin capped his moisturizer and turned, Yeonjun quickly shut his eyes. It was a childish move, but he didn’t want to disrupt the tranquility of the moment.

He could hear him slip his towel off and drop it in the basket, and the sounds of him trying to quietly open and close the closet door. Then, the mattress dipped beside him as Soobin sat, and the little ding of him plugging in his phone was the only noise in the room. His breathing was slow and relaxed, unwittingly lulling Yeonjun into a calmer state than he had been all night while waiting for him to come to bed.

While Soobin sat there scrolling through his phone, Yeonjun nudged himself closer to him, until his forehead bumped against his thigh. In response, maybe automatically, Soobin’s free hand fell to his hair, stroking it gently. He didn’t say anything. He must have thought that Yeonjun lay blissfully asleep beside him.

It was strange, because when Yeonjun’s conversation with his father finally ended, Yeonjun couldn’t even look Soobin in the eyes. He almost told him that, too. His father had succeeded in making Yeonjun lose confidence in what they were doing. Beomgyu’s words kept running through his mind, about him just wanting Soobin because he satisfied all the holes of self-doubt his father had cut into him over the years and because he filled the void his father left behind of a strong male authority figure who actually liked him and cared about him. For just a moment, Yeonjun saw Soobin through an entirely different lens. One that wasn’t fair to his genuine character at all.

But laying beside him now, his fears were assuaged. Both Beomgyu and his father were wrong. Yeonjun felt certain, under the cast of amber light and their warm shared sheets, that Soobin meant so much more to him than they would ever understand. They were partners. And even if they fit together in a rare unusual shape, what they had was no less valid or beautiful.

Yeonjun made a soft sound in the back of his throat, grabbing at Soobin’s t-shirt and nuzzling into it.

He felt more than heard a light laugh come from Soobin, and the hand in his hair fell back. “I thought you were asleep,” he said softly.

Yeonjun shook his head, and lifted himself up to rest on Soobin’s lap. “Can’t sleep without you,” he mumbled, cheek pressed against his warm body.

Soobin was quiet for a minute before he murmured, “I’m sorry for trying to tell you how to feel about your dad earlier. I realize it wasn’t really my place to say anything at all.”

“S’okay,” he responded, more tired and blurry than he thought. “I’m not mad.”

“No?”

He gave another shake of his head, taking the opportunity to press closer to him. The cotton of his big white t-shirt was soft, spilling across his lap and over his boxers. In response, Soobin curled an arm over his body, a small but firm shelter for Yeonjun to rest under. Someday, he hoped he could repay Soobin for how well he took care of him. But until that time came, he would gratefully accept every reassurance.

“Are you gonna fall asleep like that?”

“Mm, mhm,” Yeonjun hummed, feeling perfectly at ease for the first time in weeks. All of his worries melted away in Soobin’s embrace, an addicting opiate in its own right, one he knew he shouldn’t abuse, but everything felt so peaceful like this. He could let go of each anxiety one by one: his unsupportive and unsympathetic parents, his strained friendships, the increasing constraints of his work, the mountain of assignments unfinished on his laptop, and even the fights he and Soobin faced every day.

Inhaling the clean cotton scent of Soobin’s clothes and basking in his warm presence, Yeonjun’s limbs began to relax and his mind floated away entirely.

Against all odds, his dreams were kind.

❁───────❁✧❁───────❁

“Choi Yeonjun!” a calm but crisp voice called, yanking him from his daydreaming. His economics professor stood at the front of the room, arms crossed, staring him down from under the rims of his silver-framed glasses. The projector behind him showed a map of questions, one of which he had likely asked him and Yeonjun had likely not been listening. His professor looked disappointed. “Come meet me during my office hours today.”

His attention was back on the rest of the class in an instant, lecturing in a clear voice, pace so rhythmic it was no wonder he had zoned out.

But while his professor got to move on, Yeonjun got to sit there, pretending not to be embarrassed after being called out in front of twenty other students as if they were all in high school again, and his teachers personally had it out for him.

Some of his old teachers had been pretty malicious. After he was forced out of the closet, it changed their opinions of him. Teachers who had once been friendly and encouraging become his tormentors in their own way. It was small things they did, really, but each small thing built up into something that made the last two years of his high school experience hell. His physics teacher would drag him up to the front of the class and make him answer questions about topics they hadn’t even learned yet. He wouldn’t know the answer, obviously, and his humiliation would be a form of entertainment for everyone else. His physical education teacher would always find an excuse to make him do more laps or push-ups than the other students. Yeonjun was apparently always talking too much in his class, even though he didn’t even have any friends there to talk to in the first place. His history teacher would be unreasonably strict with him, giving other students opportunities to retake quizzes and revise their papers, but always demanding everything he turned in to be perfect.

Weirdly enough, his old homeroom teacher, the one before Soobin, was the only one who was nice to him back then.

Aside from him, they all treated him like a punching bag in their own ways, and he didn’t complain about it because he would be the one who sounded petulant and entitled. He once brought it up to his mom and she just said they were preparing him for the real world.

He supposed she was right in a way.

But Soobin didn’t treat him like that at all. He treated him even better than his old homeroom teacher. And it made him so different in Yeonjun’s eyes. He was kind, and a good listener, and he didn’t punish him for making mistakes or for being different. He gave him second chances, and he made him want to learn things in his class. He showed Yeonjun the kind of empathy none of his other teachers would ever give him. No one wanted to be associated with him. No one wanted to be the person to show him kindness.

Soobin’s classroom became a place of safety for him. Even before their relationship changed, Yeonjun felt like he could be more like himself when he was there. Soobin wasn’t like his other teachers. He hadn’t known Yeonjun since he was thirteen, hadn’t seen his life spiral out of control, and hadn’t heard all of the rumors that ended up defining him in everyone else’s eyes and isolating him.

To Soobin, Yeonjun wasn’t Choi Eunwoo’s gay son.

He was just him.

Soobin was maybe the first person to see him that way. And sometimes Yeonjun wondered if that was more significant to him than he initially let himself think.

The rest of his class passed by quickly. Yeonjun knew he should have paid more attention, but he couldn’t do it today. He had an hour to kill before his professor’s office hours opened, and so he texted Kai.

Me

hey huening are u around?

jung huening

My lab ends in like five~

jung huening

You wanna do something?

Me

yeah let’s get coffee

Me

my treat

jung huening

Why is it always coffee and never lunch :(

jung huening

I'm hungry :(

Me

aw poor thing <3 i’ll buy u egg tarts or something

jung huening

Yay >3< see you in 5 I’m over in comp sci I’ll meet you by the doors

Yeonjun smiled at his phone and pocketed it. His class had just barely ended, and his professor gave him a weird look when he walked out so early since he was known to stay late and talk, but he didn’t care. The last place he wanted to be was in that stuffy lecture hall.

The computer science building actually wasn’t too far from his economics class. Sunlight cast itself upon the sidewalks, glimmering like diamonds when reflected back against the tall glass walls of each building. He liked the division in architecture on campus, a bit eclectic in the way it mixed traditional with modern and contemporary. Through his design classes, Yeonjun learned that part of the university had been built ages ago in the corner of the property they held now, which housed their agriculture and natural sciences departments. And as their scope of education expanded, the campus began to reflect the diversity of its studies and students.

In truth, he was accepted into Korea University’s College of Art and Design. He could have gone to one of the best schools in the country.

But he would never have the same freedom that this campus allowed him. He hid his acceptance letter, and he didn’t tell anyone about it, even his mother who was pushing him so hard to get into one of those schools. Yeonjun knew that if he went to a SKY university, he would have to pretend to be someone else entirely. His studies would be rigid. They would not award him the same lenience with self-expression. Put simply, he felt safer here, more like an accepted part of the unique student body than an outlier trying to blend in with the crowd.

By the time he made it over to the comp-sci department, Kai was already leaning against the wall by the doors, chatting with a few of his STEM major friends. Kai had a very serious look on his face, clearly in the middle of explaining something, but everyone around him was smiling and nodding along, engaged but also just enamored with him in general. He had that effect on people.

Yeonjun lingered off to the side, patiently waiting for them to finish. He didn’t want to interrupt and put a premature end to their conversation, but he also knew that he would have nothing to contribute. From the sound of it, they were discussing the possibility of programming their phones to read out their class schedules for the day, in accordance with their Naver calendars, as soon as their alarms went off. Kai seemed convinced that it would be an easy fix. Yeonjun just listened to them talk for a few minutes.

Eventually, Kai noticed him standing there, and broke off mid-sentence, a big smile spreading across his face. “Hi.”

“Hey.” The rest of Kai’s friends glanced up at him, looking more curiously than Yeonjun thought was all that normal, but he ignored it. “You can finish up here. I’ll probably just go see if I can grab a table at Yuyyu’s before the rush.”

“No, it’s okay. I’m ready now,” Kai said, easily slipping away from his friend group with a cute little “See you later, guys!” and looping their arms together.

Yeonjun liked that Kai expressed closeness through physical touch. It made them similar. So he didn’t mind walking like that with him, arm in arm.

They did manage to find a table, although the little cafe was bustling as usual, full of students trying to take advantage of whatever short breaks they had to attain a lasting caffeine high.

“My friends want to meet you, you know,” Kai informed him once they had gotten their drinks and Kai’s tarts and sat down.

“Your comp-sci friends?”

Kai nodded eagerly. “Yeah, them. This is kinda embarrassing, but a couple are fans, actually.”

Yeonjun frowned. “Fans?”

“Like, of your modeling work. They think you’re cool.”

“Oh.” The thought had never occurred to him that his own peers would recognize him not from shared classes but brand campaigns. And that it would make him more interesting to them somehow. Just because he wore something in a magazine that they read. Their intense curious gazes made sense now, at least. Staring at him with scrutiny. Sizing him up to see if he compared to his pictures. A strange prick of insecurity wormed its way into his chest. “That’s…nice.”

“We should all get lunch sometime,” Kai suggested cheerfully, sipping his iced caramel macchiato. Yeonjun tried to cool his sudden bad mood. Kai and Taehyun had the same coffee order. It struck him as odd at first. They were nothing alike.

But at their cores, maybe, they were more similar than he thought.

He knew he should reach out to Taehyun. Yet time hadn’t made him less afraid of finding the definitive answer on whether they were still friends at all, or if their relationship lay in shambles, kicked aside in a dark alley outside the Butterfly in Itaewon.

“Yeah,” he agreed. He really needed to pull himself together. “That’d be great.”

“What’s up with you?” Kai asked after a few moments of silence, the cheeriness gone from his expression. Instead, his pale brown eyes shone with concern.

“Huh? Nothing.”

“You’re quiet.”

Yeonjun stirred his coffee with a dejected finger on the straw. “I’m tired. My boyfriend and I were up late last night.”

They were up late every night these days. He thought things would get better, after that night his dad came over. He thought he and Soobin had established a truce, like they had a common enemy that brought them closer. But in the days since…everything felt tense between them.

Kai’s eyes were wide as he asked, “Like, up late fighting, or up late…you know…”

He was cute. At least there was that. It reminded Yeonjun that it wouldn’t kill him to smile every now and then, and he felt a small one form on his lips. “Both, I guess.”

It was always that way with them. Fighting and having sex. They went hand in hand. More so recently than ever before. Since their fight a few weeks ago, really, when Yeonjun had cut his feet. He didn’t understand why they were like this, turbulent and unsure whether they were fighting or fucking. Why couldn’t they just argue like normal people? Maybe the rush of anger and high tensions turned them both on. Probably for different reasons. Or maybe having sex after an argument made it clear that they had forgiven each other. Neither of them were good at apologizing.

“And you’re smiling about that because…?”

Yeonjun shook his head, and took a sip of his coffee. “I’m not smiling about that. I’m smiling at you. You’re cute.”

Kai frowned. “Cute? Cute how?”

His naivety endeared him.

“Fucking, Kai. We were fucking. You’re not going to catch fire if you say it.”

“It’s a gross word,” Kai protested. “I’m not saying it in public if I don’t have to.”

“This is why you’re cute,” Yeonjun informed him around the straw between his lips. “You’re so sweet and innocent. It makes me want to squeeze you until you pop.”

“That…sounds vaguely threatening.”

“It might be,” he agreed.

Kai rolled his eyes but picked up one of his little custard tarts and bit into it, chewing thoughtfully. “So…can I ask what you guys were fighting about?”

“I mean, you can,” he answered. “But it’s kind of complicated. I’m not sure if you really want to hear all that.”

“I don’t mind. It’s good to tell someone about it, anyway. You can use me to vent if you want,” Kai offered sweetly.

“Um, okay.” And with a sigh, Yeonjun thought back to the night before, still trying to puzzle out how such a simple argument turned so volatile. “Well, I was making dinner, and he was folding laundry, and I mentioned something about the way he folds clothes. It was supposed to be a joke, honestly, but he got all offended and said if it bothered me so much, I could fold my own clothes. Which, obviously, is whatever. That’s fine. But then I said something about him cooking his own food, then, and he went into this huge lecture about the division of labor. Not in like the asshole, man-of-the-house way -otherwise I probably would have left because you know I can’t stand that shit- but just being generally annoying about it. He just lectures me all the time for absolutely no reason. I was just trying to tease him and he took it so personally. So after his lecture, I guess I got kind of…superior about the whole thing. I told him off for always trying to parent me, which gets him more pissed than anything. So he told me to stop acting like a kid if I didn’t want to be parented, which obviously made me angry because it’s totally not his place to say something like that to me…and…then I guess we were having sex. I don’t know. It’s weird.”

The fight was horrible. He hated when Soobin chalked all of his problems up to him being immature. Yeonjun was more complex than that, but every time Soobin got angry with him, he just said it was because he was acting childish. But Yeonjun only acted that way because Soobin forced him to, constantly stripping him of any right to make decisions or have opinions about things. And Yeonjun trusted him when he did that, too, because he was older than him and should know better. It was so frustrating.

The sex was great, though. Soobin bent him over the kitchen counter and fucked him until he could barely stand. His legs still shook if he strained them for too long. And Yeonjun had a suspicion as to why their fights always ended with sex, but he would never admit it out loud. Secretly, though, he knew Soobin’s anger turned him on. He never got to see Soobin that intensely emotional about something until they were fighting. Even if that emotion was anger, it was raw and beautiful, and Yeonjun craved as much of it as he could possibly get. In Soobin’s anger, Yeonjun saw the most genuine form of his love. If he really got that angry over something so small, didn’t that mean he cared about him just that much more?

“You’re right,” Kai agreed after a while. “That does sound complicated.”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun sighed. “It’s hard though, because he’s pretty much never like that. So I don’t want to stay mad over it. I just wish he would apologize every now and then.”

Kai took a sip of his caramel macchiato, then asked, “How long have you guys been together again?”

“A year and a half.”

“Have you ever dated someone besides him?”

The question left a bad taste in his mouth, but Yeonjun wasn’t about to divulge his entire awful, complex history with guys all over Kai’s nice afternoon.

“Well…no, not really. I had flings with guys in high school. But this is…different.”

“It sounds really intense, honestly. Whatever your relationship is.”

“Intense is…one way to put it,” he conceded, sighing again. “Isn’t it supposed to be like that, though?”

“What?”

“Romance, you know. Being in love.”

Kai frowned. “I don’t think being in love has anything to do with fighting all the time.”

“It means both of us care.”

“Yeah, but do you care about the same thing?”

Confused, Yeonjun set aside his coffee. “What do you mean?”

“Well, you told me before that he’s not in love with you, but you’re in love with him.”

“Things are different now,” Yeonjun muttered.

Kai’s eyes went wide, clearly surprised about something. “He said he loved you?”

He hesitated. “Not…in so many words. But I feel like he does. Maybe.”

“Yeonjun…” Kai trailed off, looking conflicted. Almost as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t bring himself to.

“He said that he was in love,” Yeonjun justified himself.

“With you?”

Yeonjun glumly stirred his coffee, realizing he kind of wanted to cry. “No.”

Finally, Kai seemed to have enough. “Yeonjun, I hate to say it, but I really don’t understand what you see in this guy at all. He just…well, I’m sorry, but he just- he sounds like…a dick, honestly.”

Kai must have felt intensely about the situation if he was calling someone a dick.

Yeonjun shook his head. “No, he’s not. I know how it probably sounds from all the stuff I’ve told you, but he’s so much better than that. I just always complain about him when he does something wrong, and I never say anything when he’s being really good to me.”

“He should be good to you all the time,” Kai pointed out.

“It’s not that simple. That’s not how relationships work.”

“That’s not how your relationship works. And that’s kind of the only one you have to go off of.”

Yeonjun realized, then, that he didn’t have any great examples of healthy couples to look up to. His parents were awful to each other. So were Taehyun’s. Beomgyu always dated guys who treated him like shit. And he had never seen Kai date anyone at all. He thought that, compared to all of them, he was doing pretty well.

“I feel like we’re okay, though. All things considered.”

“You tell me every other week about all the things he’s done that make you want to scream and cry.”

Kai was no longer interested in pretending to be nice about the whole ordeal. To be fair, Yeonjun supposed he couldn’t really blame him. He was probably tired of hearing the same problems over and over. Kai only had half of the story, though.

“He’s infuriating sometimes, yeah, but I am, too. We balance each other out. He probably complains about me to his friends.”

Friends that Yeonjun would most likely never meet.

“Is that supposed to be a good thing?”

“It’s normal.”

Kai clearly remained unconvinced but nodded anyway. “Okay…”

“My econ professor wants to see me during his office hours today,” Yeonjun commented, shifting the topic of conversation away from him and his relationship.

“Do you know what for?”

Yeonjun pulled his Americano back towards him and took a sip. “No idea, honestly. We’ve talked from time to time, and I guess I zoned out a little during class today, but he’s not really the kind of guy to just call students out like that.”

“You have Professor Nam, don’t you?”

“Mhm.”

“I had his class last semester,” Kai said. “Not econ, though. Marketing. I liked him a lot, I thought he was pretty chill. And he gave us a discount on textbooks from his store, which was really cool.”

“His store?”

“Yeah, he owns a chain of bookstores across the country, apparently. That was his big business venture, and how he landed his position. You know, plus the doctorate in business and everything.”

“He’s able to run a business and teach at the university?”

Kai considered it for a second, swirling his straw around. “I doubt he actually manages the business anymore. I mean, maybe. He’s pretty young, I guess. For a professor.”

“Huh.”

“Kinda hot, too,” Kai remarked playfully, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes.

“I’m the last person who could judge you if you went after him, honestly.”

“Because you’re dating your old high school teacher?”

Yeonjun winced; it was worse to hear it said out loud, by Kai no less who was never explicitly given the specifics but seemed to have connected the dots anyway. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m not going to try to get with Professor Nam,” Kai snorted. “I’m not crazy. No offense.”

He sighed. “None taken.”

Maybe Yeonjun was genuinely just batshit insane for this whole ordeal. It would be a lot easier to write it off that way.

“He probably just wants to discuss whatever your recent paper was,” Kai pointed out, and Yeonjun nodded.

“Probably.” Then he hesitated before asking, “How’s your new roommate?”

Kai shrugged, but somehow, his expression grew a little more distant. “He’s fine.”

Maybe it was the wrong choice of conversation topic.

“What does he study?”

Kai raised his eyebrows. “Athletic training.”

“That’s not so bad.”

“He has to do daily reps of sit-ups and pushups in the dorm every single morning and night. He constantly asks about my calorie intake and if I’m getting enough cardio. Also he just sort of…perpetually smells like a men’s locker room.”

Yeonjun patted his hand sympathetically. “Okay, that kinda sucks, I’m sorry. Is he cute at least?”

Kai glared at him and took his hand back. “No.”

“Are you…mad at me for moving out?”

Unable to meet his gaze, Kai muttered a small, “Maybe,” into his little plate of egg tarts.

Looking at him, Yeonjun felt guilty about the situation all over again. He knew it was a shitty thing to do even back then, but he went ahead and did it anyway because he always put himself first. Maybe he should have been more firm with Soobin, and insisted that he wasn’t ready to move out. He wasn’t. And he didn’t want to leave Kai hanging halfway through the academic year, either, but he still did because he wanted to make Soobin happy. It was complicated, though, because Yeonjun liked living with Soobin. He liked all their little moments together. He liked waking up beside him every day, and the warm drinks they shared in the morning and before bed. He liked watching television with his head in Soobin’s lap, and listening to the soft murmur of his voice as he explained what happened during the last episode of something where Yeonjun fell asleep. But he was worried at the same time, since it felt like all that closeness led to even more conflict.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, and tried to take Kai’s hand again. This time he let him, although Yeonjun could see that he was still sulking. “I did it because I thought it would be a good thing for my relationship. But I didn’t realize how much it meant to you.” Then, a thought came to him. “Have you considered rooming with Beomgyu next semester?”

Kai pursed his lips but nodded. “He and I talked about it.” Then, “Are you guys fighting, too?”

Yeonjun sighed. “I guess. I think I’m fighting with everyone right now,” he realized despondently. As he got older, burning bridges became so much easier than building them.

“You’re not fighting with me.”

Kai’s expression had softened, no longer resentful over their roommate situation, and Yeonjun felt an immense rush of gratitude for him and the hand of friendship he kept extended even through the worst ups and downs of Yeonjun’s year.

“I’m not?” he asked in a small voice, and Kai shook his head.

“I’m bummed that you moved out, but I also understand why you did it, and I just want you to be happy. That’s all.”

“I want you to be happy, too, though…” he replied quietly.

“I will.” When Kai answered, he sounded confident. “Rooming with Beomgyu will be cool. I told him I’d mod his production software so he can do more stuff with it.”

Yeonjun smiled. “Yeah? What’s he doing for you?”

Kai shrugged. “Nothing. He doesn’t need to. It’s good experience.”

Yeonjun nodded, and a beat of hesitation stretched between them before he finally asked, “Did he…say something about us?”

“Uh…yeah…” Kai replied, a sheepish expression on his face. “He kind of told me what happened between you guys, and your other friend, too. I think he feels pretty bad about the whole thing, actually.”

“Well, considering he hasn’t talked to me in a month, clearly he doesn’t feel that bad,” Yeonjun muttered with a sharp tongue, hating the idea of Kai taking Beomgyu’s side in this entire ordeal.

Kai made a pouty face but didn’t say anything.

“He’s just so infuriating,” Yeonjun continued to vent, swirling his coffee more roughly now. “I mean, first he fucks everything up between me and Taehyun, and then he acts like I’m the asshole in our friend group? I’ve never done anything to him, but he’s spun this whole victim complex, and made me feel like I was the one who ruined everything. What if he and Taehyun are together right now talking shit about me?”

“I don’t think they’re doing that,” Kai said quietly, but Yeonjun was barely listening now.

“They were talking literally the night after everything happened. What if Taehyun forgave him and they both decided to just drop me?” Growing angrier the longer he thought about it, he could barely stop his fears from tumbling out. “Taehyun and I have been best friends since daycare,” he burst out. “Beomgyu barely knows him, not like I do. It would be so unfair if they…if they just moved on and left me behind. And I was Beomgyu’s friend first! Taehyun didn’t even want to be friends with him, he thought he was weird! But I made them get along. They would’ve never even spoken if it wasn’t for me.”

“Yeonjun.” Kai said his name sharply, grabbing his hand and jolting him out of his rant. “You’re getting way too ahead of yourself. Why don’t you just talk to them?”

It was strange to look at Kai’s doe-like brown eyes, narrowed now as he tried to snap him back into sanity, and realize that he was the youngest among all of his friends. Even Kai had a month on him, and he used that month to his advantage, forcing Yeonjun to reckon with his own dramatics.

“Sorry,” he backed down, heart still racing with anxiety over all the possibilities. “I just…I can’t talk to them. If they wanted to clear things up, wouldn’t they come to me?”

Raising his eyebrows, Kai pointed out, “Have you not considered that they might be just as upset and anxious about it as you are? Based on what Beomgyu told me, Taehyun is probably giving you space since what happened between you guys was pretty serious. And I know that Beomgyu feels bad, but he’s also convinced that you don’t want to be his friend anymore. They’re their own people, with their own fears and stuff. I don’t know if it’s really fair to expect them to solve everything when there are three of you.”

“I’m tired of having to be the one to fix everything,” he bit out, and Kai squeezed his hand sympathetically.

“I’m sorry. I’m here whenever you want to talk about it.”

Yeonjun nodded, and squeezed his hand back in an attempt to calm himself down. “Thanks.”

Kai scooted his plate of egg tarts towards him with his free hand. “You want one?”

“No, I’m okay.”

The words were automatic at this point.

“It’s technically not a solid. If you think about it.”

Yeonjun frowned, wondering how he even picked up on his new eating pattern at all. “What?”

“Like, you could drink it with a straw if you were dedicated enough,” Kai said, like it was the most normal thing in the world. “Here, look.” And without saying anything else, he just plucked his own straw out of his coffee and sucked the inside of a tart clean, the custard disappearing entirely. “See! And it’s protein!” he concluded cheerfully.

Astounded, Yeonjun simply stared at him for a moment. “It’s sugar is what it is,” he eventually said with a small laugh, trying to brush it off as something less serious.

But Kai was insistent for some reason. “Simple sugars are good for you. Your body needs that stuff to burn in quick reserve. I told you about my new roommate, right? Well, he’s a workout junkie like I said and he eats a ton of these. He brings a box home with him all the time. And he eats the crust, but you don’t have to.”

Eyebrows drawn together, Yeonjun didn’t know what to say. It was clear what Kai was trying to do, but Yeonjun couldn’t understand why he was doing it.

“Kai, I’m not eating custard.” He tried to sound nice as he said it, and Kai wasn’t deterred.

“Come on, you don’t even want to try the straw technique?” Yeonjun went to protest, but Kai gave him big pleading eyes and said in the most innocent, playful voice, like he wasn’t actively deceiving him, “It’s fun, though!”

Yeonjun found himself picking the straw out of his coffee without any awareness of what he was doing, and when he slurped the custard out of one of Kai’s tarts, the taste seemed heavenly. A perfect balance between sweet and eggy, one of the best things Yeonjun had ever tasted, obviously exaggerated by the fact that he hadn’t eaten anything that wasn’t a fruit smoothie or protein shake in days.

His stomach didn’t even turn, a remarkable feat in its own right.

And he had to admit, “Okay, I didn’t actually expect that to work. Custard is definitely not a liquid.”

Kai pursed his lips, considering it. “I dunno, I’d call jello a liquid. It’s kinda watery and slurpable. And if jello is a liquid, then isn’t pudding, too? And custard is basically pudding. So by the transitive property-”

“You just made so many leaps in logic,” Yeonjun noted, but he was laughing too hard to really care about the logistics of it.

“Imagination is critical to innovation,” Kai replied with a bright smile. Then he tapped his phone, checking the time. “You said you had a meeting with your professor at three, right?”

“Oh, yeah, what time is it?”

“Two-fifty.”

“Shit, I’ve gotta go.” Yeonjun quickly stood up and slung his bag over his shoulder.

“Drink another tart!” Kai demanded, holding up the plate in front of him. And since he really didn’t have the time to argue, Yeonjun stuck his straw in another tart and sucked the custard out. It was sort of like a thick milkshake in a way. Satisfied, Kai set the plate down and smiled again. “Enjoy your meeting!”

“Hopefully it’s nothing bad,” Yeonjun groaned, stuffing his straw back into his coffee. “See you later.” With that, he picked his way through the eclectic smattering of tables and found the door, exiting out back onto campus. The sun still shone down brightly on the sidewalks, a promise that spring had finally come and was here to stay.

It was strange the way he could feel eyes on him as he walked, more aware now that Kai had mentioned his friends knowing Yeonjun from his modeling work. Others watched him, too, strangers awarding him with unearned smiles and a wide berth around his personal space. No one really approached him the way they used to. And Yeonjun had a feeling he wouldn’t be stumbling into any genuine new friends any time soon.

A few people took pictures of him as he passed. Yeonjun noticed their cameras out of his periphery, and kept his head ducked, unwilling to pose for pictures that felt like a violation more than anything else. He wondered how long people had been doing that, and if he had really been so oblivious all this time.

It was only while Yeonjun walked, ignoring all the looks he got, that he realized Kai hadn’t brought up his potential date with Park Eunji at all. He felt guilty for not asking, and filed a mental note to call him about it later.

His professor’s office sat directly above the lecture hall that they typically used, and when Yeonjun entered the building, it was quiet. Cool air greeted him, and he shut the door quickly so as to not let any out. The sound of him taking the stairs felt loud and invasive, as if announcing his presence to everyone in the building.

He had never been called in directly for a professor’s office hours before. He was more likely to email with any questions he had. But he found the door with his professor’s name printed over the frosted glass, and glanced at his phone to make sure he wasn’t too early. It read 3:01.

Yeonjun knocked tentatively on the door. It took a moment- he could hear the clicking of a pen and the shuffling of papers before his professor answered, “You can come in.”

His economics professor’s office was cluttered in that academic sort of way, with binders and students’ papers piled up on his two desks, and a row of stacked bookshelves lining the wall behind where he sat. Posters of economic models were tacked up on the walls, and he had his desk lamp flicked on. His professor sat at his desk, and his occupation with the papers in front of him felt like a familiar comforting sight to Yeonjun. The tension in his shoulders eased a bit.

“Yeonjun-ssi, thanks for coming, and so punctually too,” his professor said, sounding much nicer than he had earlier in class. “You can take a seat.”

Yeonjun sat across from him. His professor had a tweed suit on- he always dressed older than he looked. Kai was probably right when he estimated him to be just a few years above Soobin in age. He had an odd energy about him, eccentric yet strict, and so it surprised him when he addressed him kindly.

“I was just going over the outlines your class completed for your mid-term projects,” his professor informed him, more conversational than Yeonjun would have predicted as he shifted his stack of papers out of the way so they could see each other. “The one you and Park Mijin are working on sounds interesting. Remind me what your major is again.”

“Fashion and design,” Yeonjun replied, and braced himself for a snide comment.

It didn’t come, though.

“Oh, that makes sense, then,” he remarked. “If I remember correctly, she’s an art major, so you two should come up with some neat ideas. I like having arts’ students in my classes. I think you bring a different perspective into the business world, and you make all of the economics and marketing majors challenge their own ways of thinking, too. What’s your motivation for taking this class?”

“Um.” He hesitated, needing to think. He hadn’t expected his professor to actually take an interest in what he was doing. “I think it’s smart to pair my major with business. A lot of the fashion industry has to do with marketing and advertising, and understanding economic trends. And it’s important, too, that I have a well-rounded education. In case I end up wanting to do something different.”

His professor nodded. “I think it’s a good choice. You don’t want to limit your options too early on. Do you like studying business?”

Yeonjun’s conflicted emotions towards the subject must have shown on his face, because his professor gave him a sympathetic smile. His eyes were warm and brown, and it felt like he could see right through him.

“It seems like you might be facing some pressure with these classes.”

“I’m not really good at the subject, to be honest,” he admitted. “But like I said, it’s important that I study it. And my parents want me too, as well.”

“I see,” his professor said, and he seemed understanding. “Well, I do want to offer a piece of advice to you, if I may.”

Yeonjun nodded. “Sure.”

“Don’t determine what you are and are not good at until you’ve invested a lot of time in those things,” he advised kindly. “Just because something doesn’t come as naturally to you doesn’t mean you have no talent for it. In fact, I actually think you have a very good mind for economics. You’re good at pinpointing patterns and trends, and you have a lot of knowledge about how money moves and changes. I like reading your papers. All of the technical information will come to you later- that’s the sort of thing you can only accumulate after you study something for a while. I just think it’s important for you to keep in mind that things aren’t set in stone, and I’m glad you’re getting some experience in the subject, if nothing else.”

He nodded again, unsure of where this was going. “Thank you,” he replied tentatively. Why would his professor call him to his office just to compliment him and give him advice? Yeonjun couldn’t figure out what he wanted from him. He thought they would be discussing his grades and the last paper he turned in that he assumed he probably failed, but so far, it hadn’t come up.

“You can tell me if I’m crossing a boundary,” his professor said, immediately setting Yeonjun on edge. What kind of boundary? What was he trying to get out of being nice to him? “But I’ve noticed that you seem a little distracted in class lately, and I just wanted to check in and make sure that you’re doing alright.”

The brown eyes behind his glasses seemed kind and innocent enough, lacking any ulterior motive, and Yeonjun couldn’t explain why he felt uncomfortable. “I’m fine,” he answered. “I haven’t been getting much sleep lately, and it’s probably affecting me. I’m sorry about that, I’ll work harder to be more engaged.”

“I appreciate your effort,” his professor replied lightly. “I just hope you’re taking the time to take care of yourself as well. From what I understand, you’re a very hard-working person, and in my opinion, these first two semesters are the hardest.”

Yeonjun nodded again, even though he still couldn’t figure out what this was about. “I think I’m still learning how to balance everything,” he confessed. It was easier to say than he thought it would be. No one else in his life had really expressed any concern about it. “I didn’t really get used to university life before I started working, and now I’m trying to figure out how it all fits together.”

“You’ve become quite the celebrity,” his professor joked with a smile on his face. And it was strange for Yeonjun to realize that people he barely knew at all knew maybe too much about him, reckoning that with what Kai had divulged to him earlier and what he had personally witnessed just on his walk over here. That was the life he had signed himself up for. “Just don’t forget that you’re still a student, too.”

“I won’t,” he promised, and this time he meant it. When a brief silence settled over the room, he hesitated. “Is that…all you wanted to talk to me about?”

The question seemed to surprise his professor. “Yes, I suppose that’s it. I think it’s good to check in with my students. I know this course is difficult, and I don’t want you to think I’m inaccessible. Do you have any questions for me?”

“No…” Yeonjun answered after a moment. “No, I don’t think so.”

What was the point? There had to be some sort of underlying motivation. Anyone who took an interest in him always had one.

But his professor just nodded and said, “My door is always open if you need help with your work. My email, too. Thanks for stopping by, Yeonjun-ssi.”

Feeling dismissed, Yeonjun got to his feet. It was once he stood in front of the door that it occurred to him- maybe his professor didn’t actually want anything from him at all, and he had asked him to come in as some form of genuine kindness.

“Sir,” he said, turning back. “Admissions is pushing us to seek out academic advisors for our second year by midterms.”

“Ah, that’s right, it is that time of year.”

Another beat passed before he worked up the courage to ask, “Would you be willing to be mine?”

The question appeared to catch him off guard, and he blinked behind his glasses. “I mean, I’d certainly have no issue with it, but wouldn’t you be better suited asking a professor in your own department?”

Yeonjun thought about the professors in his department; he had made decent enough connections with them, one had even got him casted at his agency, but none of them had ever expressed any interest in his well-being, or given him non-industry related advice.

“I think I might double-major.”

His experience with the fashion industry had left him feeling disillusioned. The element of glamor was far outweighed by the paradox of perfection that he faced every single day. He had never felt further from the idea of body positivity. He liked art and design and challenging conventions, but his creativity was stifled by the role he had found himself in.

Yeonjun didn’t want to be a model. It was never his intention. It was an opportunity that came his way, and of course he took it, because it would be foolish not to, but he wasn’t going to be a model forever. He wanted to design. And he would need a different skillset to make that dream a reality.

“In marketing?” his professor inquired, and Yeonjun nodded.

Besides, it would make his mother happy.

“I don’t want to sound too subjective on the matter, but I think marketing is a great choice,” his professor said lightly. “Especially with a liberal arts degree. When I was getting my bachelor’s, I double-majored as well.”

“Oh, really? Can I ask what your other focus was?”

“Literature. I never had any ambition to work in banking. I wanted to study the economy and write about what I discovered. The two went together well. And I would say that my passion for writing continues to outpace my passion for economics as I grow older,” his professor told him, a friendly conspiratol light in his eyes, as if they were sharing a secret.

He sort of reminded Yeonjun of someone.

“My own experience aside,” he continued. “I would happily be your academic advisor. If you promise to get some rest before coming to my classes, of course.”

Yeonjun smiled. It was maybe the kindest ultimatum he could give him. “I promise, sir.”

“Good. Was that all you wanted to discuss with me, Yeonjun-ssi?”

“Yes, I think so.”

His professor nodded. “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon. I’ll see you next Thursday.”

“Yes, sir.”

Yeonjun let himself out after that, but when the door shut behind him, he couldn’t help but glance back at it. What a weird interaction. And yet it left him feeling…lighter, somehow. As if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Today wasn’t so bad, really.

However, almost as soon as he stepped foot outside, his phone vibrated with a text message.

Manager-nim

Hey, I’m sorry it’s short notice but can you be at the agency by 5:15?

A spark of dismay lit up within him. He had a lecture at quarter to four. There would never be enough time for him to catch a train after and make it by five-fifteen. Let alone walk home, get his car, and drive there. But maybe if he enlisted some help. First, it would make more sense to see whether this was actually an important request or not. Sometimes, his manager would make things seem more urgent than they were just to get him to show up on time.

Me

For what?

Manager-nim

Event briefing. Burberry Korea is dropping their autumn collection in two days and you’re invited.

Me

Runway or portfolio?

Manager-nim

Runway. I’ll give you more details when you get here.

Yeonjun clutched his phone, feeling a rush of excitement that he hadn’t experienced in a while when it came to modeling. This was a big deal. A global brand. And they chose to invite him of all people.

Me

See you at 5:15.

[Manager-nim liked your message]

He rushed to close out of his messages and find the contact he needed. Hopefully, Soobin had decided to put their argument from the previous night behind him. Yeonjun didn’t have long between now and his next class.

───────✧❁✧───────

Sunlight filtered through the classroom windows, painting each of the papers piled on his desk a brighter white. Soobin adjusted the brightness of his screen, unaccustomed to this splash of springtime sunshine in the midst of all the storms they’d been getting. The room was silent, peaceful with the absence of his students, but beside him, his cell phone started ringing.

One swift glance at the contact name told him it might be a call worth taking. It wasn’t like Yeonjun to call him during class hours; he must have known it was his prep period, and he most likely wouldn’t call if it wasn't urgent.

“Hey,” Soobin answered. “Is everything alright?”

“Hey,” Yeonjun replied. “Yeah, everything’s fine. Sorry it’s short notice, but do you think you could pick me up from class later?”

Soobin glanced at the time. He would have to resume teaching in about thirty minutes. “How much later?”

“Five. They want me at the agency at five-fifteen, and I can’t make it in time on the train since I have a class coming up.”

“Sure,” he agreed. “But I’ll have to run back here after. It’s a Thursday, I have my staff meeting.”

“That’s fine, I’ll get myself home.”

He tucked his phone under his chin so he could talk and type out notes for his next class at the same time. “Why do they want you in today?”

“Event prep, apparently. I didn’t get any more briefing than that, though. Sounds like they want me to show up at a collection drop or something similar this weekend. I think they might fit me for something.”

“Do you know what label?” The questions came on autopilot- he had only learned which ones to ask because of Yeonjun.

“Burberry, I think.”

“Very global.”

“Mm, mhm. It might be a big deal. I’m not sure yet, though.”

“Well, you can tell me all about it after you go, I suppose. I’ll be there around four-fifty. Just text me what building you’ll be in and I’ll park out front.”

“Okay, will do. See you later.”

“Bye.”

───────✧❁✧───────

It took Soobin a moment to pinpoint him, briefly forgetting that his stylists had bleached his hair only a week ago. He had just gotten used to looking for an ashen brown head instead of his natural inky black, and now he had to look for platinum blond instead.

Then again, he really should have been able to recognize Yeonjun right off the bat. Given that it was an arts school, the students took their fashion a little more seriously, everyone looking elevated and unique. But Yeonjun still managed to stand out. So much, that Soobin felt like he was seeing him in a different light, an objective one, maybe, for the first time in a while. Yeonjun looked different, seen from a distance like this. Older, somehow, both in his face and his composure. Soobin could notice how slim his face had gotten, maybe too much to be healthy. His hair had started to get long enough to tie up, too, and today he wore it in a messy ponytail, a few stray strands framing him like a pretty portrait. He kept tucking them behind his ear as he read something on his phone.

An iced coffee sat balanced on his other hand even while the cool overcast sky threatened rain. The day’s sunshine had disappeared as quickly as it came. His cat-eye glasses perched on the top of his head, and he wore a close-fitted leather jacket, a black women’s camisole top, and loose jeans that grew tighter around the thighs and had a slit running up them. His boots were white and high-heeled.

Yeonjun thought Soobin didn’t know he wore women’s clothing from time to time, or that the back of their closet was filled with things like skirts and dresses hidden under a hanging sheet. Soobin assumed he tried to keep it a secret because he thought he would react badly, but Soobin honestly just thought it was a weird thing to have an opinion over. He really didn’t care at all what Yeonjun wore. It made no difference to him. Yeonjun had this belief that he was a more close-minded, conservative person than he really was, and while Soobin wouldn’t wear any of it himself, it didn’t bother him that Yeonjun had an interest in it. He just figured it was an extension of his experimentation with fashion. Of course, if he tried to wear something completely outrageous to dinner, then they might need to talk about it first, but little things like what he wore today were inconsequential.

As long as he was in an environment where he felt safe to express himself, it wasn’t Soobin’s place to comment on it at all. Soobin’s only opinion was that Yeonjun looked beautiful in anything he wore.

He flashed his lights once to get his attention, and unlocked the passenger door while he walked over. Yeonjun didn’t even say anything, just shoved his bag in the backseat, dropped his drink in the cupholder, then cupped Soobin’s face between his cold hands, kissing him deeply. He tasted like black coffee, a flavor Soobin really had grown to love since knowing him. When he went on his trip back home, he drank a cup every day just to quell how much he had missed him. Sometimes, he drank it when they fought. Soobin undid his seatbelt so he could comfortably slot his lips against Yeonjun’s, slipping his tongue into his mouth.

As always, Yeonjun’s hands found their way into his hair, twisting gently. When they eventually broke apart, Soobin said softly, “Hi, pretty boy.”

Yeonjun smiled, the same coy look that drew Soobin to him over a year ago. “Hi.”

Regretfully, Soobin pulled away from him, and took the car out of park. “What was the kiss for?” He asked as he started to drive. He knew they were on a time limit.

“Long day. Missed you.”

“Did you do anything fun in class?”

Yeonjun shrugged, pulling out his phone again. “I made a pair of gloves.”

“In a day?”

“Yeah, velvet. It sucked. That was this morning. Then I had art history, which involved less accidentally-stitching-my-fingers, but way more sitting there being extremely bored. In fact, I learned today that I would actually rather get my fingers caught in a sewing machine than listen to my professor lecture about royal pedigree artists of the Joseon dynasty.”

Soobin glanced at him in concern. “Is your hand okay?”

Yeonjun lifted it, examining his fingers as if he’d forgotten about the injury entirely. Right away, Soobin noticed the bandages on his index and middle ones. “Yeah, it’s fine. The garment isn’t worth anything if you don’t bleed over it, right?” he joked, and Soobin realized that fashion might be a much more intense major than he initially believed.

“Sure…” he tentatively agreed. “Were those your only classes?”

“No, I had economics after. And I had a really weird conversation with my professor.”

“Weird how?”

Yeonjun frowned, as if replaying it in his head. “Well, he asked me to come in during his office hours, which was like an hour before my studio class. So I went in and he…just wanted to talk to me…”

Soobin could feel the red flags going off in his head, little alarm bells ringing prematurely, and he forced himself to wait.

“About…?”

“Me, mostly. A little about his class, but mostly if I was doing okay. He asked if I was getting enough sleep, and if I was finding a balance between my work and my classes. We talked about my parents wanting me to study business. Like I said, it was weird, but it was nice of him to talk to me individually like that, I guess. I’ve been thinking about switching to a double-major with marketing, so it was pretty timely, if nothing else.”

“Uh huh.” Soobin really didn’t want to sound like a hypocrite, so he continued to keep his thoughts quiet. “And what’s this professor like?”

“He’s nice,” Yeonjun answered easily enough around the straw in his coffee. “A little strict. His class is hard, but he’s self-aware about it and tries to make things easier. He dresses like an old businessman, though.”

“How old is he?”

Yeonjun shrugged, contemplating. “Maybe a little older than you? I’m not sure.”

Soobin did not want to be lumped into the same age group with this strange economics professor of Yeonjun’s. “If he calls you into his office again, tell me, alright?”

Yeonjun gave him an odd look. “Why does it matter?”

“Because people aren’t usually that nice for no reason. Especially not university professors who have doctorates and better things to do with their time than take special interest in their pretty teen students.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Yeonjun bit back immediately, and Soobin set his shoulders, tamping down the urge to respond just as pointedly.

“Yes,” he replied instead, more willing to admit his own hypocrisy if it meant keeping Yeonjun safe. “I’m aware of how it sounds. And you should really trust me on this one, because I obviously know.”

Yeonjun didn’t get mad, to his relief. They had already had a fairly explosive fight the night before. Instead, he just kicked his feet up on the dashboard and remarked, “What, are you afraid of a little competition? He’s kinda hot.”

“Don’t even try it,” Soobin answered shortly.

But this seemed to goad Yeonjun on even more. “Kai even has a thing for him. And he’s a bookworm like you, apparently. I don’t know, I guess I think literature nerds are sexy.”

It felt like Yeonjun was pushing his buttons for a specific reason, but Soobin couldn’t pick out any certain motive or thing he had to gain by doing so. He supposed he could push his buttons back, just to see what happened. “You think any mildly attractive man older than you and in a position of authority is sexy.”

Yeonjun shrugged, easily agreeable. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

Soobin glanced at him, but Yeonjun looked truly unperturbed, scrolling through his phone again. “You wouldn’t actually do it, would you?”

“What?”

He hesitated, realizing his question sounded offensive and insecure. “Never mind.”

“No, Soobin, I wouldn’t actually fuck my professor. I’m just messing with you. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but you and I are kind of dating.”

The use of his name, and solely his name, made it clear that Yeonjun’s words had stopped being a joke.

“It would be hard for me not to notice.”

“Yeah, you say that,” Yeonjun muttered under his breath, and this time, he did seem mildly irritated.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No, go on,” Soobin pushed. “What do you mean?”

But even as he asked, he pulled up alongside the towering glass complex of Yeonjun’s modeling agency, and Yeonjun undid his seatbelt in a flash. “I’ll see you at home,” he said simply, pushing the door open and shutting it firmly behind him as he left.