Archive of Our Own

The art teacher is weird. That’s what all the kids think the moment they see him walking down the halls of Seoul’s arts high school. His name is Choi Yeonjun and he likes to dye his hair in obnoxious colors. He wears skirts and sweaters with holes cut in odd places, gangly earrings and clinking bracelets. He matches patterns that really don’t fit and still manages to look good in them, or skin tight pieces that make you look twice. He’s weird . 

That is until they get to follow his classes. 

He’s charming, definitely. Very charming. His smile makes his nose crinkle up and his cheekbones stick out. He leans back on his desk as he speaks and explains. And he’s passionate. Very, very passionate. 

He’s critical, of course, and gives pointers for improvement. However, it’s always followed by a compliment. However, there are days where even Mr. Choi cannot motivate Sunghee. She’s been stuck in an art block for weeks now. She would rather burn her sketchbook than ever look into it. Everything is trash. Everything she touches turns to trash.  

“What’s the sour face?” Chaeyoung asks, settling down next to her. 

Sunghee drops her head on the desk. “Today I will not art.” 

“Well, hate to bring it to ya, but we are in art class,” Chaeyoung says. 

Sunghee lifts her head, smirking. “Don’t worry, Chae, because I have a genius masterplan.”  

From the front of the room, Yeonjun claps his hands. He’s dressed in some type of grunge wear today, blue hair peeking out from underneath a beanie, more rips than jeans on his legs and once again a holey sweater. “Okay, okay, kids, listen up!” 

He pulls out the board and a marker. “You know the drill, right? You’ll be working on your animal portraits today. Most are still in the drying rack, but please come to me if you can’t find them. I had to make some space, so some are moved.” 

Chaeyoung groans. “Gosh, I can’t look at my stupid parrot any longer.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” Sunghee whispers. She raises her hand. “Teach! Teach, come on! Tell us about your first love.” 

“My first love?” Yeonjun laughs, scratching the bridge of his nose. “That’s a little uncreative, guys.” 

“Please?” Sunghee folds her hands together. She elbows Chaeyoung in the side. 

Chaeyoung hisses, rubbing her arm. However, she got the message. “Yeah, we’re curious!” 

Soon enough, the entire class is joining along, voices muddling together, but each sharing the same sentiment. Yeonjun scoffs, though his eyes are crinkled up, sparkling. 

“Okay, fine! But whoever does want to work, please just do.” Yeonjun waits for the class to calm down. When they do, he leans against his desk. “Love… It hits when you least expect it to.” 

“Boo, so sappy,” Chaeyoung jeers, lighthearted. 

Sometimes Yeonjun thinks he should be stricter with his students, but on the other hand, they’re here to have fun. He’s glad they feel comfortable enough to joke around with him, of course keeping it within the limits. He knows when to draw the line; he’s glad they do too. 

He chuckles, crossing his arms. “Do you want to hear it or not?” 

“We do!” Seunghee exclaims. She shoves the girl next to her. “God, Chae, shut the fuck up.” 

“No cursing,” Yeonjun reprimands, grinning. 

Seunghee zips her lips, nodding. Her eyes are sparkling, cheeks squished by her hands as she leans forward, as if that way she’ll capture the story better. 

Yeonjun tilts his head, lips pursed. “My first love? Well…” 

Yeonjun’s first love hit him with a bicycle.  Nearly , okay, he admits. He’s overdramatizing. But the attempt was there! Had his first love not swerved, Yeonjun would have been dead now. Overdramatizing , a little, all too familiar voice in his head nags, but Yeonjun’s point stands. His first love hit him with a bicycle and that's how it all began. 

Back then he didn’t know this would be his first love, so he was mainly very pissed off. 

He picks up his bag and turns with a glare. The culprit stands with his eyes blown wide. The bike hangs loosely in his grip, mouth slightly ajar. He’s dressed in browns, trousers over a flannel, with suspenders. In which century did this guy think they lived?

Yeonjun glares at him, but decides not to waste his breath on a jerk like that. With a spin on his heel he’s stomping to his first class, day ruined. Well, just his morning. His morning is a little bit out of the ordinary. 

“Wait!” 

Yeonjun halts to the thundering of steps and the clicking of spokes. He doesn’t turn, sour mood seeping into his skin. 

“I’m sorry,” the guy says. He sucks in a breath. “Are you okay? I really didn’t see you there.” 

“I’m fine,” Yeonjun snaps.  

The guy bites his lip, eyes glistening with a thousand apologies. “Please, is there anything I can do?” 

Yeonjun’s eyes narrow even further. “You can leave me alone.” 

“What time do your classes end?” 

“Why do you need to know?” 

“So I can make it up to you.” The guy scratches his brow. “Also… you’re very pretty…” 

Yeonjun blinks, stares for a few seconds. “Goodbye.” 

“My name’s Soobin! Choi Soobin!” 

Yeonjun keeps walking. It’s best to just ignore guys like that. He tries to collect his mind by organizing his note-taking-spot the best he can, bottle of water on the corner, notebook, his favorite pen and a snack, but it doesn’t help. 

Even if his pen has a nice feel and writes in a pretty purple, he really isn’t feeling better. In fact, his mind keeps wandering throughout his lecture. Not that child psychology is the most interesting thing out there, but it’s good to keep his attention. Yet, his mind keeps wandering off. It keeps traveling to that dopey grin and those sparkly eyes. Infuriating. Choi Soobin , he recalls. Choi Soobin , he repeats bitterly. 

He taps his pen on the corner of his table, a continuous rhythm driving him and everyone around him insane. No one shushes him, though, and he does make it through the class eventually. It’s long, dreadful and Yeonjun will definitely have to consult Beomgyu about whatever the hell his lecturer had just thrown at his head. 

He rushes out of the class to get to the canteen. Taehyun is already waiting for him by the door, waving excitedly when he spots him. Yeonjun smiles back at him, linking their arms as they get going. 

“I’ve got a story,” is what he greets Taehyun with. 

“A story?” Taehyun repeats. “Had a bad morning?” 

“The worst,” Yeonjun says. “It all started when an asshole ran me over.” 

“What?!” 

Yeonjun’s eyes narrow. “Speak of the devil.” 

Taehyun follows Yeonjun’s line of sight, tilting his head. “Don’t tell me it’s that guy.” 

But it was ‘that guy’, with his stupid suspenders and his stupid paperboy hat and slacks coming straight for them, taking long strides, speeding up when he spots pink in the crowd. 

Yeonjun holds Taehyun tighter, making a U-turn. However, it’s too late; Soobin has already reached them and like a leech, he hangs around. 

Soobin holds up his hand. “Hi! Hi, wait—“

“Please, why are you here?” Yeonjun cuts him off. 

Soobin rubs his neck. “I was going to make it up to you.” 

“You really don’t have to. I’ve gotten over it.” Yeonjun bows shortly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me.” 

Taehyun elbows Yeonjun in the side. “Yeonjun, who’s this?” 

Soobin waves, grinning. He has dimples. Fuck him. “I’m Soobin. Choi. Choi Soobin.” 

Taehyun nods. “Oh, hi.” 

“Hello.” Soobin turns back to Yeonjun. “So, Yeonjun, is it?” 

Yeonjun finally lets go of Taehyun to cross his arms. He puts on his meanest face, the one people call intimidating. Sharp eyes can be used as a weapon sometimes. “What do you want? I’m not even upset about it anymore.” 

“Let me buy you lunch,” Soobin says.

Yeonjun heaves a sigh. He looks at Taehyun with big eyes, pointing at Soobin, as if saying, can you believe this doofus? 

Taehyun shrugs in response. “Keep me out of this.” 

“Ass,” Yeonjun hisses. He looks back at Soobin. “I said it’s fine.” 

“Please, I don’t feel fine about it,” Soobin says. He grins.  “I should’ve seen such a beautiful being from miles away.” 

In all honesty, Yeonjun wants to gag. He nearly does, but he has to keep a front up. He gives Soobin a fake smile. “Right. Anyways.” 

“Corny,” Taehyun coughs. 

Soobin doesn’t pay it any mind, looking at Yeonjun with these big, sparkly eyes, almost like those of a puppy. He blinks, purses his lips, tilts his head. Oh, Yeonjun can see just what he’s trying to do. He balls his fists. Soobin isn’t backing down. They’re stuck in this silent argument, staring each other down. 

“Fine, whatever,” Yeonjun finally huffs. “If you’ll leave me alone after this.” 

Soobin crosses his hands over his chest, feigning a faint. “Pushing me away already? At least let me get to know you better.”

“Uh, guys, should I like… leave?” Taehyun asks. 

“No!” Yeonjun immediately yells. 

“Yeah, no I think… I’ve got some thing with Coach going on right about now.” Taehyun looks over his shoulder. “Yep. Uhm, I’m gonna like, go now. See ya, Jun.” 

Yeonjun holds onto Taehyun’s sleeve, hissing in his ear, “Taehyun. Taehyun, no. No, don’t you dare.” 

“Sorry, Yeonjun,” Taehyun says, “but he doesn’t seem too bad. It’s good meeting new people. He looks just your type.” 

Yeonjun flushes pink. He punches Taehyun in the arm, which leaves the other completely unfazed. He backs out of the conversation with too much ease for two people who have shared hardships. 

Yeonjun reaches after him, but he is out of sight. Yeonjun turns back to Soobin with a glare. “There’s a ramen place around here. Let’s go.”

Yeonjun sure as hell chose the most expensive spot that came to mind which wasn’t all that expensive because Yeonjun didn’t go out to get dinner much, but he remembers this place being good, and pricey enough to scare off a student. 

He sees it on Soobin, that fear of seeing the bottom of your wallet. He smirks, thanking the waitress extra sweetly when she comes to serve them. Yeonjun wastes no time; he needs to get out of here as soon as possible. He immediately picks up his spoons and chopsticks, hastily thanking Soobin for the meal before digging in. 

Soobin only watches him at first, poking around the bowl. His eyes fleet up and down a few times, looks away, looks at Yeonjun. Yeonjun almost gets the urge to just beg him to spit it out, take him by the shoulders and shake him around. 

“So… Yeonjun,” Soobin says at last. “What do you do?” 

Yeonjun raises a brow. “Are you trying to get to know me?” 

“A meager attempt,” Soobin admits. 

Yeonjun sighs. “Fine. I’m Choi Yeonjun. I major in Art and Education. I’m a senior.” 

“A senior?” Soobin hums. 

“A senior.” 

“Almost ready to go into the big, wide world.” 

“Did anyone ever tell you you’re dramatic?” Yeonjun asks. 

“I get away with it.” Soobin piles up a bite on his spoon. “So, what keeps you busy? Isn’t it hard, double majoring?” 

“Hm, not really anymore,” Yeonjun says. “For now, all I have to do for Art is work on my final project.” 

“Anything in mind?” 

“Probably a portrait. I work pretty quickly once I’ve set my mind to it, so I’m actually not too worried about it.”

“That’s nice.” Soobin smiles, a full one, with dimples and crinkled eyes. “You know, it’s so cool. You’re so calm about it. Don’t you ever get artblock?” 

“Barely.” Yeonjun’s chest puffs out. Is he bragging? A little bit. “I’ve got a lot in my head. My problem is usually having too many ideas and not enough time or energy to work them out.” 

Soobin lays down his utensils to clap. It’s short, it’s sweet. He sticks up his thumbs. “So cool.” 

Yeonjun huffs, cheeks reddening. “So, what about you?” 

“Literature,” Soobin answers. 

Yeonjun covers his mouth, tapping the table. “Oh my god. Wait, is that the major with…?” 

Soobin nods solemnly, arms crossed. “The giant vagina projected on the screen with the question if art and porn are coinciding terms? Yes. Good to know your reputation on campus.”  

“Well, it was hard to miss!” 

“People shouldn’t have come into the lecture hall early! Who does that?! Usually everyone is always late!” 

“Damn.” Yeonjun giggles. “So, what was the answer?”

“It’s up to interpretation,” Soobin says. He bites his bottom lip, holding in a snort. “Why are you laughing?! Man, I thought you of all people would understand the importance of art.” 

Yeonjun rests his chin on his palm, smiling softly. “Tell me more about it some other time, okay?” 

Soobin lights up. “Deal.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t see Soobin for the coming week — well, nine days, because for some reason he’s counting. It’s hard to forget a guy like that, dressed… really badly, actually. Yeonjun can’t sugarcoat it; Soobin dresses badly, like he’s trying to revive the 19th Century paper boy look. Yeonjun is all about self-expression through clothing. After all, he isn’t an experimentalist for nothing. He’s wearing his favorite skirt today, a lacey black one, running lopsided, with a sweater that reminded him of a broken fishnet when he saw it. He had to get it. The most he can say is, Soobin is dedicated to an aesthetic. He can respect that. 

On the 256th hour of not seeing Soobin, he makes a grand reappearance. He’s standing outside of Yeonjun’s building, leaning against his bicycle. Soobin springs up when he spots Yeonjun, waving his arms. 

Yeonjun hurries over to him, spluttering. “Soobin, what are you doing here?” 

“Why, I’m courting you, of course,” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun scans his face, skeptical. He runs his eyes over his features, trying to spot any cracks in the masks. His frown deepens when he spots none. “Stop messing with me.” 

“I’m serious.” Soobin swings his leg over his bike, patting the carrier. “Come on, hop on!” 

“On your… bike?” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t have a car.” 

Yeonjuun looks at the thing, its shaky frame. He coughs.“Is that safe?” 

“I promise! I’ve biked all my life,” Soobin says, and he sounds so confident Yeonjun wants to believe him. “Let me escort you to your dorm.” 

Yeonjun pulls his lips into a thin line. “Is this an extravagant way to get into my pants?” 

“No!” Soobin holds up his hands, shaking his head furiously. “Yeonjun, please, I won’t even set foot into your building.” 

Yeonjun sighs. “Okay, but if anything happens, it’s all your fault.” 

He collects the fabric of his skirt, getting on the back. The sideway sit is not the most practical, but it’s the best he can manage. 

“Hold on tight,” Soobin says. Yeonjun doesn’t miss the joy in his voice. 

He takes up. It starts shaky, and Yeonjun shuts his eyes, as if that will make it safer, but as they gain momentum, the ride gets smoother. Soobin asks for directions every now and then, zooming through the turns in a way that makes Yeonjun yelp and tell him to be careful. Soobin only laughs it off, assuring him everything will be okay. 

Yeonjun wants to believe him, but when they reach another sharp turn, Yeonjun’s arms shoot around Soobin’s waist. His skirt flies around in the wind. Yeonjun hides his face in the other man’s back, nose scrunched up. He can’t see Soobin’s face right now, but he knows it’s smug. 

He feels like he lost a part of his soul once they finally reach his dorm, eyes far away. He bows, looking like he just returned from a trip to hell. “Thank you for the ride.” 

Soobin grins. He runs his hands over the steering wheel. “What time do you get off tomorrow?” 

Yeonjun tilts his head. “Why?” 

“So I can pick you up again,” Soobin says. His smile turns uneasy. “I’d love to know you more, Yeonjun. But only if you want to, of course. Say the word and I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Oh. Well.” 

Yeonjun finds his roommate sitting on the floor, watching some rerun of a tv show. He sinks down next to him, waiting for Beomgyu to finish cursing out the mother of the main boy for throwing water at the main girl’s face before he asks, “Hey, Gyu, you do like… that picking apart of people’s minds thing, right?” 

“You mean psychology?” Beomgyu doesn’t look away from the screen. He groans. “Oh my fucking god, not the envelope of money too!” 

“Yeah, that,” Yeonjun says. “Psychology.” 

Beomgyu finally looks away from the tv. “Why? Need help with your child psych class again?” 

“Hm? Oh, no, not that. Though I might need you one of these days. It’s really hard.” 

“Hit me up when you need me. Knock on my door and if I come out, it means I’m not dead.” Beomgyu pauses in thought. He nods, pointing at Yeonjun. “If I don’t, then it means I’m deceased or crying. We should have a drinking-until-we-cry session again. I miss those. It’s good to release tension. Otherwise it can lead to all these icky diseases, physical and in the head.”

“Right.” Yeonjun rests his head on his arm. “Anyway, Gyu, do you have time now?” 

“I do. Should I pour the wine?”

“Oh, sure. Yeah.” 

Beomgyu shoots him finger guns. “Cheap and dry, just the way you hate it.”

“How considerate.” Yeonjun gives him a fake smile.  

“Hey, hush, I’m here to help you.” Beomgyu rushes to the kitchen. Yeonjun can hear the clinking of glasses and rushed footsteps. He gets a glass pressed into his hand before his roommate crashes down in front of him again. “Now, shoot.”

Yeonjun runs his fingers over the glass. “Okay, so… There’s this guy—“

“Oh my god, are we finally doing it?” Beomgyu slaps a hand over his mouth, but his squeal is piercing. “Are we doing boy talk? I get to pry into your romantic life when it’s none of my business?”

“Beomgyu! Focus!”

“Focused! I’m focused!” Beomgyu brings the glass to his lips, taking a big gulp. “Don’t distract me.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “Do you want the story or not?” 

“Fine. My lips are sealed. Now spill.” 

“So, it started when I nearly got killed,” Yeonjun says.  

Beomgyu snorts, slapping Yeonjun’s thigh. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“My story, my way of setting the mood.” 

“Grim and idiotic?” 

“Let me speak!” 

“Then get to the point!” 

“Fine! Okay!” Yeonjun holds out his glass, waiting for Beomgyu to clink it with his. “Cheers. Beginning. It started when I nearly got run over by this doofus and his bicycle.” 

“Gosh, attempted murder. Are you okay?” The sarcasm lies on Beomgyu’s words like a heavy coating of sauce. 

“You don’t mean a single fucking word you just said,” Yeonjun says.  

Beomgyu shrugs. “Okay, so? Then?” 

“Then… Well, then I got upset. I mean, I wasn’t counting on that. It was so early in the morning too. But then the doofus started apologizing and wanted to make it up to me. He was insisting , so I couldn’t really say no. He bought me lunch and we chatted a bit. And then he was going on about courting me.” 

Beomgyu snorts into his glass. “Courting? What is this? The 1800s?” 

“I think he thinks so,” Yeonjun says. He tilts his head to the side, frowning. “He dresses… oddly.” 

Beomgyu drapes himself over the armrest dramatically. “Coming from Choi Yeonjun? It must be bad.” 

“Yeah. It kind of is.” Yeonjun sighs. The wine scratches his throat, just the way he hates it. Fucking Beomgyu. “Anyways. I didn’t see him for a while, but then just now… he biked me home.” 

Beomgyu’s face scrunches up like it does when he’s thinking, connecting dots in his head. He shakes his head. “Like… a motorcycle? I would’ve heard that.”

“No. A bicycle,” Yeonjun says. “The one with the pedals.” 

Beomgyu coughs, likely to hide a laugh. “Aha. And what do you want me to say?” 

“I’m feeling weird about it. I don’t know.” Yeonjun sighs, taking another big gulp. 

“Slow down there, cowboy. What kind of weird?” Beomgyu says. 

“I get nervous around him. Like… I don’t know. I’m scared he’s playing me for a joke or something.” 

“Do you want to keep meeting him?” 

Yeonjun stays silent. So this is Beomgyu in his mind-apart-picking form, picking apart Yeonjun’s mind. Yeonjun thinks about it, thinks long and hard. He doesn’t know Soobin at all, to be honest. He knows the basics, but he doesn’t know Soobin as a person. But the moments he has spent with him up to now were – mostly – pleasant memories. 

Does he want to know Soobin better? Yes. Definitely. There’s so much about him he wants to get to know, so much he wants to discover. Yeonjun isn’t a person of rational decisions, he goes off feelings. And Soobin feels right. 

“I don’t want to be made a fool,” Yeonjun admits.  

“Does it feel that way?” Beomgyu asks. 

“I don’t know…” Yeonjun plays with his glass, now empty. “He’s bringing me to class tomorrow.” 

Beomgyu places Yeonjun’s head on his shoulder, patting it twice. “Well, as I said, it’s none of my business. But if anything happens, you know where to find me. I have a hockey stick.” 

Yeonjun pouts. “You don’t play hockey.” 

“Exactly.” 

It seemed Soobin was actually serious about his ‘courting’. In fact, he was so serious, he was waiting outside of Yeonjun’s building the next day, too, with his bicycle. Right under the lamppost. Yeonjun scrambles over to him, head down and hands in his sleeves. 

“You weren’t lying,” he says. He loops his fingers into the straps of his backpack. 

“Why would I lie to you?” Soobin asks.

“Why wouldn’t you?” 

Soobin gives him a look of genuine confusion, almost like he wants to laugh it off, but is too baffled to actually do it. 

“Because how would you get to know me if I do?” he chuckles. “I’m trying to leave a good impression here. I’m not a horrible person.”

Yeonjun looks down at his feet, kicking at the tiles. “Okay, sorry. It’s just a bit confusing…” 

“Yeonjun, I’m courting you, yes, but lying will only bring trouble in general. Me and you both.” Soobin crouches into Yeonjun’s line of sight. “Lying in general is just kind of a sucky thing to do.” 

“Okay, okay, but you gotta understand why I’m being skeptical!” Yeonjun exclaims. 

“Well, with someone as attractive as you, I bet a lot of people have tried things on you.” 

Yeonjun snorts at the wink Soobin adds to the statement. “Corny.” 

“Fine. I’m not the best at flirting.” 

“Yeah, true, but… it’s cute.” The tips of Yeonjun’s ears color red. “So!” 

However, Soobin has definitely heard it. He crosses his arms behind his back, leaning forward. His nose nearly brushes Yeonjun. “What was that?” 

Yeonjun blinks. He can see his reflection in Soobin’s irises, a deep brown he can sink into. In the sun Yeonjun bets he can see the orange pop out of them, mixed with golden yellow. He clears his throat. “I’m not repeating it.” 

“I’ve got it etched in my heart.” Soobin pats the back of his bicycle. “Where to, my sweetheart?” 

 Yeonjun purses his lips, playing with the loose strings of his sweater. “Soobin, you don’t have to do this. You’re not indebted to me.” 

“I know I’m not. I just think you’re a very cool person,” Soobin says. Simple as that. “I want to spend time with you.” 

“You don’t even know me,” Yeonjun mumbles.  

“Obviously that’s what I’m trying to do here.” Soobin takes Yeonjun’s hands, giving them a light squeeze. “Let me get to know you, Yeonjun. Will you give me a chance?” 

“Fine. Alright!” Yeonjun maneuvers his way on the back of Soobin’s bike. He wraps his arms around Soobin’s waist. “To the art building.” 

Soobin curtsies, a half assed attempt at it. “At your service.” 

He sets off, giggling to himself. 

Yeonjun tightens his grip around his waist. “Don’t laugh! It makes you shaky.” 

“I’m a very good cyclist, Yeonjun. Don’t you worry.” 

“You ran me over.” 

Soobin takes a smooth turn, the motion tickling Yeonjun’s stomach. “Barely.” 

“Almost,” Yeonjun argues. 

Soobin reaches behind him to pat Yeonjun’s thigh. “You’re gonna keep using this against me, huh? At least it was a lasting impression I guess?” 

“That’s not a good thing,” Yeonjun scowls. “Both hands on the wheel! I’m precious cargo!” 

Soobin’s body shakes. The bastard's laughing. And he’s laughing a lot, too. “A win’s a win.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t go against it. Fine. He’ll give Soobin that one. It was definitely a day to remember. 

For studying, Yeonjun likes to sit in the school’s café. The library is too silent for him. It makes him too conscious of himself. He wonders if his breathing is too loud, if the flipping of his pages is too annoying. He can’t concentrate there, when he’s too focused on himself. Here, however, the sounds are masked by a dozen of other people chattering, as well as the humming of the radio. 

He’s organizing his highlighters like a true, serious student when he hears someone yell, “Hey, Yeonjun! Yeonjun!” 

Yeonjun looks up, heart speeding up. “Oh, Soobin? What are you doing here?” 

Soobin takes his bag off his shoulder. “I came here to study, but I saw you hanging around and thought, why not? Is it alright if I sit with you?” 

“Of course. Have a seat,” Yeonjun says. “Be quiet, though. I have to think.”

“My lips are sealed.” Soobin plops down in one of the plastic chairs, wiggling around to get comfortable. He takes a textbook out of his bag. “I actually have studying to do as well. Really.” 

“Shh, I’m in the zone.” 

“My apologies.” 

Yeonjun sips away at his coffee, running circles over the pages with the back of his pen. The words are dancing around, something about children. It’s always about children. 

He peeks over at Soobin’s half of the table. “What are you studying?” 

Soobin’s eyes twinkle. “I thought you wanted silence?”

“I need a break,” Yeonjun whines.  

Soobin reaches out to pinch Yeonjun’s cheek, saying in his best baby voice, “You’re adorable.” 

Yeonjun slaps his hand away. “Don’t say stuff like that.” 

Soobin, however, is in his own world. He pokes at Yeonjun’s face. “Oh? Is that a blush I spot?” 

Oh, he is so annoying Yeonjun wants to throw him under a bus. But he can’t let the intrusive thoughts win, not when Soobin’s face looks like it could chase away rainclouds. 

“You literally bruised my flesh with that crab grip of yours,” Yeonjun says. He rests his elbows on his book. “Are you gonna answer my question?” 

“So impatient. I’m just teasing.” Soobin’s lips form a pointed pout. “Anyways, I’m studying film analysis. Imagery in relation to what’s spoken. How to see the deeper meaning and essence where there really isn’t any. It’s a bit pretentious, but very theoretically so.” 

“What? How?” 

“So, for example, we have different types of shots. We have the close-ups, of course, the establishing shots. They all help with the intensity and moods of scenes. The camera movement is also important. Like a crane shot! Those are so cool. They look like a major zooming out, but then they do this weird high angle and you’re like, yup. Crane shot.” 

“Aha.” 

Soobin scratches behind his ear. “Sorry, nerd splurge.” 

“It’s alright. Telling someone helps with remembering,” Yeonjun recites the age-old line. 

“Oh? Is that so?” There’s a glint in Soobin’s eyes Yeonjun can’t quite place. 

“Yeah,” he says instead. “Beomgyu told me about it. He’s a psych major. I’ll trust it. Believing it helps with remembering as well.” 

“Beomgyu?” Soobin asks. 

“My roommate,” Yeonjun clarifies.

“Oh, okay.” Soobin purses his lips. He smiles, resting his chin on his hand. “You’re pretty.” 

Yeonjun freezes up. “Out of the blue?” 

“I want to remember it.” 

The air gets knocked out of Yeonjun’s lungs. He pats around the table, looking for hsi pens. Where are his pens? “I… I need to study.” 

Soobin leans forward, cupping his cheeks with a smug little smile. “Are you flustered? I didn’t take you for the shy type.” 

Yeonjun downs his coffee, patting his chest. “Don’t you think child development is just so intriguing? Did you know children are geniuses until the age of five?” 

“Really fascinating.” Soobin’s voice is shaky with unspilled laughter. 

They fall into a comfortable silence eventually, both getting busy. Yeonjun orders another coffee, while Soobin settles for a hot chocolate. Soobin is scribbling away in his textbook, sticking in extra notes he has in his notebooks on some pages. 

Child development is the last thing on Yeonjun’s mind. Instead his eyes travel over Soobin’s face, remembering every detail of his features. He can now picture the way Soobin’s nose scrunches up when the sun falls in his eyes, or the way his brows furrow when he thinks, the way they raise when he finally understands something. He can see it clearly when he closes his eyes. 

He’s going to fail his exams. 

Soobin’s voice taps him back into reality. “Hey…” he starts with, “uhm, I got this projector. I was wondering if maybe you’d like to come over and watch a movie with me? Not a way to get into your pants! Just a good ol’ movie date – not date!” 

Yeonjun coughs away a giggle, putting on a straight face. “Hm… what film?” 

“Uh, Written on the Wind, ” Soobin says. “Mid-fifties. Melodrama.” 

Yeonjun has never heard of that film ever before. He clears his throat. “Oh… I usually like romcoms.” 

Soobin’s face looks like Yeonjun just told him his dog died. He grabs Yeonjun’s hands, looking into his eyes. “I’m so sorry.” 

It takes Yeonjun a few beats before he realizes what Soobin is apologizing for. When the connections connect, however, Yeonjun’s face drops. He pulls his hands away. “Are you insulting my taste already? You just invited me over.” 

“If you give me a next time, I’ll let you pick,” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun scoffs jokingly. “Well, aren’t you just a gentleman?” 

Soobin holds his hand behind his ear. “Is that a yes?”

“Fine.” Yeonjun throws his hands up. “Fine!” 

“Don’t act like you hate it.” Soobin pokes Yeonjun’s cheek, once, twice. 

Yeonjun slaps his hand away. “Of course I don’t.” 

Soobin’s dorm is way across campus. Yeonjun is starting to understand why he takes the bicycle every day rather than walking the distance. At first he thought it was an aesthetics thing, something to do with that Italian movie Soobin had told him about. Stealing Bikes , or something along those lines. The thing is, Soobin is passionate when he talks. Yeonjun hates how he tends to zone out when he speaks sometimes—most of the time. 

It’s hard to keep up with him. Soobin is shy, but only when he wants to be. He’s loud around Yeonjun. Too loud, sometimes. Yeonjun has always been too out there for his own good, usually is the one told to shut up or tone it down. It’s a horrible feeling to have, so Yeonjun lets Soobin ramble. He could let him ramble until his tongue falls off. Thank the heavens, Soobin hasn’t reached that stage yet. 

After climbing three flights, Yeonjun finds room 304, the same number he’d scribbled on his palm, half faded with how sweaty his hands are. He wipes them on shorts, folding the left leg to level it out with the right. 

He shakes his arms, rolls his neck. It’s just Soobin. He can do this. It’s just Soobin. Soobin, of all people. Sucking in a sharp breath, Yeonjun’s fist raps against the wood.  

It takes less than a minute for the door to swing open. Soobin — all messy-haired, his suspenders off, yet his blouse is still tucked into his khakis — greets him with a smile. 

“Yeonjun, hi! Welcome!” His smile is like pearls in a clear sea. He steps aside, giving Yeonjun space to enter. 

Yeonjun nods, hands disappearing into the sleeves of his jean jacket. His eyes scan the room, the mess of the area. There’s sweaters and hoodies scattered on one half, a gaming console, some records on a stand, CDs, as well as a radio. The other half is filled with books and old tapes. A lot of books and tapes, movie posters up on the wall. That one must be Soobin’s. 

“My roommate isn’t home,” Soobin says. “Not that it would have mattered, though. We have separate rooms. But I thought… yeah, this is all sounding very wrong. Uhm. Anyways, projector!” 

He points down at the projector set up on a little coffee table. Yeonjun leans forward, inspecting it as if he knows what the hell it’s supposed to look like and what makes it good. 

“Where’d you get it?” he asks instead. 

“Uni was cleaning them up and I asked if I could snatch one. Which they agreed to, surprisingly. I can’t believe why they were chucking them out. It’s in such good shape." Soobin snaps his fingers. “Oh! Wanna take off your jacket?” 

Yeonjun looks down at his sleeves. “Oh, uh… yeah… Sure.”

He lets Soobin help him out of the thing, with a little twirl. Soobin holds it up, gasping. “Woah, the design is so cool! Where’d you get it?” 

He holds it up so Yeonjun can see the back too, the face he’d painted on it. He thinks it was inspired by some album cover, but he isn’t sure. 

“Oh, I… Yeah, I painted it on,” Yeonjun says, shrugging. “You’re an art student or you aren’t, you see. So, yeah.” 

“It’s so pretty.” Soobin inspects it closely, like a child looking at their gift on Christmas day. “Gosh, so talented. You. A ball of talent.”

Yeonjun snatches the jacket, hugging it to his chest. “Stop.” 

“Why?” Soobin pats Yeonjun’s head, ruffling up his hair. “Are you getting flustered?” 

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Yeonjun grumbles. “But thank you. That’s very nice of you.” 

“Well, it’s just the truth, isn’t it?” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun ignores the heavy beating against his ribcage, the flush going up his face. He cuddles the jacket a little tighter, timid smile sneaking its way onto his face. He hides his face in his hands. “Just… Just put on the movie!” 

Soobin ruffles his hair one last time. “Alright, alright! You go get cozy.”  

Yeonjun was very, very lost. His eyes flew open at about anything and he wasn’t sure what the plot was. It seemed everyone was in love with everyone without any prior development. Isn’t love at first sight a wonderful thing? 

Soobin’s arm is pressed against his; Yeonjun doesn’t dare move. There is something comfortable about the situation, a carefree something in the air Yeonjun doesn’t want to shatter. Soobin holds out the popcorn, blinking at him a few times, lips pouty. He’s chewing furiously. 

Yeonjun tilts his head. “Huh.” 

“Popcorn?” 

“Oh, yeah.” Yeonjun grabs a handful, stuffing it in his mouth. Muffled, he manages a, “Thanks.” 

Soobin chuckles. “Are you enjoying?” 

He changes positions so he can stretch out his legs, groaning in relief when the blood flow is restored. He pats Yeonjun’s head, before resting his head on the other man’s shoulder. Yeonjun’s cheeks heat up. He stares holes into the wall, right through the scene that’s playing. 

“They’re moving quite fast, aren’t they?” Yeonjun mumbles, realizing just how strained he sounds. He can’t help it, not when Soobin is so close to him, always the one initiating physical contact. Yeonjun thinks he might die with how fast his heart is beating. 

Soobin moves around, shifting up so he can sit more comfortably. “Well… Yeah. But it’s a classic!” 

“They got married on the first day of meeting. Not a lot of romantic tension between the pairings.” 

“50s Hollywood loved their fast pacing. It was about spectacle. Melodrama is, well, drama . They just want to pack as much drama as they can into this.” 

Yeonjun nods. Valid points, sure. He’ll believe it. He has no clue about it, anyway. Seeing Soobin speak of it so passionately was more than endearing to him. The scenes keep moving. Finally something he can talk about. 

“Why is she steering on a straight road?” Yeonjun asks. 

Soobin holds a piece of popcorn for Yeonjun to eat. “Okay, a film critic, I see.” 

“It’s just a little silly.” 

“It is, isn’t it? But look at the filmmaking! Sirk, what a man he was.” 

Yeonjun nods, smiling softly. He rests his cheek on top of Soobin’s head, wrapping his arms around the other, cuddling him tightly. He hums at what Soobin is telling him, understanding half of it, but Soobin’s excitement is endearing, even if Yeonjun has no idea who Douglas is and what his intricate misé-en-scenes are. 

Soobin takes Yeonjun’s hand, rubbing circles on it with his thumb. His talking has died down to some commentary on the camera work every now and then. Yeonjun doesn’t know what the different types of pans are, but he’ll listen. 

“What type of movies do you like, then?” Soobin asks later, after the movie has ended. 

The ending wasn’t great, in Yeonjun’s opinion. It all moved quite fast, very fast. Just as fast as Yeonjun got comfortable with having Soobin in his space like this, eating a hole into his heart and sneaking in to fill it. 

“Me? I like romcoms.” Soobin gasps like Yeonjun insulted his grandmother’s cooking. “What? Why do you look like that?” 

“Romcoms?! Yeonjun? Are you okay?” The worst part is how serious Soobin looks when he says it. 

“Uh, yeah?” Yeonjun is sure he’s digging his grave here, but the way Soobin’s face falls into despair is honestly too fun. He’s so theatrical and expressive in his antics; Yeonjun has never met someone quite like him. “Is it too mundane for your expensive taste?” 

Soobin gets up, moving away to the other end of the couch. “Hm, no, I’m not saying anything.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, falling into Soobin’s lap. “You’re thinking it.” 

“Nothing,” Soobin denies. “Nothing on my mind.” 

“If you wanna know, I love She’s All That .” 

Soobin clutches his chest, sinking down to the floor. He buries his face in Yeonjun’s thigh, wailing. Soobin and his dramatic streak, Yeonjun didn’t know what he was going to do with him. But it fills him with a warm, fuzzy feeling. He runs his fingers through Soobin’s black hair, messing it up. A little unkempt, a goofy smile on his face. It’s all a little too comfortable; it feels like bliss. 

They’re spending a lot of time together. Yeonjun starts noticing it when his free time is filled with Soobin and thoughts of Soobin. When he starts thinking of Soobin when seeing little things that remind him of said man. 

And Soobin still bikes him home. Every day after class. 

Yeonjun giggles to himself, watching Soobin from his window. He’s hopping up and down, waving Yeonjun goodbye with his entire body. He blows him a kiss. Yeonjun rolls his eyes, shooing him away. He presses his thumb to his bottom lip, biting at it to stifle a laugh. 

Go! Yeonjun mouths at him. 

Soobin pouts, shuffling backwards to his bicycle. He shoots Yeonjun one last dimpled smile, eyes shut and lips stretched thin, nose scrunched up. He then swings his leg over the back of his bike, taking off into the night. Yeonjun waves after him. He sighs, staring down the path Soobin had gone down, even when he’s already far away. 

“Who the fuck is that weirdo who always drops you off?” 

Yeonjun nearly jumps, though the cuss word has already left his lips. He clutches his chest, doubling over like he just finished running a marathon. “My fucking god, Beomgyu.” 

Beomgyu looks less than impressed, chopsticks in one hand while the other rests on his hip. He’s wearing an apron. That’s a bad sign. 

Yeonjun narrows his eyes. “What the fuck are you doing to our kitchen?” 

Beomgyu huffs. “Answer my question first.” 

“Hm?" Yeonjun’s eyes fall back to the spot where Soobin had been standing, cheeks heating up. That smile, etched into his brain. He clears his throat. “Oh, just someone. A friend.” 

“Is this the bicycle criminal?” Beomgyu asks. 

“The…?” Yeonjun furrows his eyebrows, words not quite connecting in his mind. However, he’s quickly taken back to their first day, the bicycle and the near-accident. He lets out a sharp sound, something between a laugh and a snort. “Oh, yeah, that’s him.”

Beomgyu nods slowly, face falling into disgust with each bop of his head. “Seemed very chummy, the two of you.” 

“Soobin’s affectionate like that.”

“Okay. Warn me when he comes over.” Beomgyu kicks Yeonjun in the ass. “Want ramen? I made some.” 

Soobin’s days are filled with joy. And Yeonjun. But those two things go hand in hand. It’s rare for him to not be seen around the man. It’s rare for Soobin to be sitting alone in the cafeteria, nose buried in a poetry bundle he needs to fight through for a textual analytics class. He sighs. Maybe he should’ve asked Yeonjun to stay after all. However, work must be completed and they say a degree is important, so here he is; on his way to becoming a corporate slave. 

A tray slams down across from him. Soobin peeks over the edge of his book. His face pales; he’s not getting any work done today. 

In front of him is a mopey, pouty Huening Kai. He’s frowning, his fingers curled around his chopsticks. “Why aren’t you hanging out with me anymore?” 

Soobin clears his throat, going back to his book. “Good morning, Kai.” 

“Don’t ‘good morning, Kai’ me! You don’t have friends. Where are you off to all the time?” 

Soobin lays his book to the side, giving Kai his full attention. Kai is such a baby sometimes, but Soobin indulges him every single time. Call it a weak spot, Soobin is not ashamed. 

“Hm? I still see you at home, though?” he says, just to tease him. 

And it works, because Kai explodes. “But you’re not even eating lunch with me anymore! Has the day come? Have you overcome your humanity allergy?”

“Did it ever occur to you that we might have clashing schedules?” Soobin asks. 

Kai points an accusing chopstick at him, threatening him like it’s a knife. “You have your schedule hanging on the fridge, idiot. I can see you have like… five classes.”

“Six, actually.” 

“Side plot!” Kai slams his fists down, looking up like he’s in a drama. “Who have you been seeing?”

No point going around it. Not like he would keep secrets from Kai. Most of the time Kai isn’t really listening to what he’s saying, either. He could tell him he murdered someone and the most Kai would answer with would be, Oh really? Cool. 

“I’ve met someone. I’m trying to woo him,” Soobin tells him. He steals a grape from Kai’s tray. Kai doesn’t even notice it, mouth hanging open and his eyes spread so wide Soobin can see his entire iris. “Why are you so surprised?”  

“You? Taking the first steps?” Kai looks at the ceiling for a few unsettling seconds, then right back at Soobin. “Impossible.” 

“He’s not really catching on, to be honest,” Soobin tells him, heaving a sigh. “I’ve been really bold. I think he’s purposely ignoring it.” 

Kai nods slowly. “Do you think he likes you back?”

“It seems like he does, but I’m not too sure anymore. He hasn’t flat out rejected me, so there is still hope.” A ghost of a smile appears on Soobin’s face. His stomach flutters, remembering Yeonjun’s head resting on his, the velveteen blush on his cheeks whenever Soobin compliments him. “Besides that, it’s really fun spending time with him.” 

Kai beams slyly. “Soobinnie’s got a crush?” 

“Yeah. I think you could call it that,” Soobin says. He drapes himself over the table, all the crumbs and dirt – he should’ve thought about this beforehand. Too late for that now; he’s got to finish his performance. “I hope he likes me back.”  

“A guy who keeps up with you is already more than you can ask for,” Kai mutters.  

Soobin sends him a deadpan. “Don’t you have other people to bother?” 

“Nope.” Kai blows him a kiss, bouncing in his seat. “I only have you in this world, so stop ditching me!” 

Soobin feels a little bad for ditching Kai. He really does, but the call of romance is a strong one; he can’t miss out on any chance he gets. So, he hopes Kai will be appeased by the sour candies he’d left on their table, together with a hand sized plush holding an explanation of why he wouldn’t be home until late — probably. 

He’s pretty sure Kai doesn’t even mind it that much. Being alone at home is never really an issue. The company is fun, but Kai would never pass up an opportunity of not having to consider Soobin’s presence when he pulls out the electric guitar. Usually he goes over to his band’s practice space, but there’s no place like four cramped up walls with a leaky ceiling. 

Distance makes the heart grow fonder; Kai will love him even more after he’s freed from his face for a while. However, that rule only counts once one is already fond; making Yeonjun fond of him is still a project in process — a long, heart-fluttering process. 

Honestly, he never expected for Yeonjun to invite him out to the park, but here they are, sandwiches and fizzy drinks, sitting in the swings like they aren’t dangling half out of them. Soobin watches Yeonjun swing back and forth, heels dragging slopes into the sand. 

He looks too pretty. It’s not the lighting or the mood or the scenery; Yeonjun is just too pretty. As a whole. The way his nose crinkles up when he laughs, a nasal little giggle. His eyes crinkle along with them, sparkles slipping through the cracks. And then that endearing mole, right beneath his eye. There isn’t much poetry to wax about it — not that Soobin needs to; he just likes it. It’s endearing, pretty and so Yeonjun. 

“Soobin?” 

Soobin jerks away, looking down at his feet. He claps them together, watching the dirt whirl down. His ears are burning up. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, hoping Yeonjun doesn’t notice. 

“Soobin, do you… perhaps like me?” 

There it is, the question. Soobin always thought he would face it bravely, with confidence, but the more he’s gotten to know Yeonjun, the more he’s afraid of losing him. And as any movie cliché he’s firmly advocated against, Soobin would rather keep Yeonjun as a friend than not have him at all. 

“Nope. I just get very tired around you,” Soobin squeaks.  

Yeonjun’s face falls, eyebrows knitted. He looks more lost than offended. A win. “Huh?” 

“It’s a genetic thing,” Soobin says, which isn’t a lie, but definitely not the reason for the redness in his face right now. “My dad gets it too. We get very flushed when we get tired.” 

“Oh…” Yeonjun stays silent for a moment. This is it; Soobin has officially pushed him too far. His weirdness has finally become too much for him to handle. However, the next thing Yeonjun says is, “Soobin. We need to go to the hospital right now.” 

He lays his hand over Soobin’s, fingers clinging onto his. He’s never seen Yeonjun this serious, not even when he’s studying. He’s never seen Yeonjun like this. Soobin’s heart swells up. He holds onto Yeonjun too. 

“Why?” he asks. “Are you not feeling well?” 

Yeonjun shakes his head furiously. “Not for me! For you!” 

“Me?” Soobin isn’t quite following. 

“Redness in the face can mean heart disease or high blood pressure. Soobin this is serious!” 

Soobin doesn’t really have a say in anything; Yeonjun already has their arms looped, dragging them to Soobin’s bike. He swings his leg over it and pats the carrier. “Hop on.” 

“Uh, Yeonjun?” 

“No, Soobin, you are not biking. We are going to get you checked up. Right now.” 

Soobin doesn’t protest. It’s no use, really, when Yeonjun has set his mind to something. Yeonjun’s biking is wobbly at best, but if Soobin distracts him he’s sure they’ll both break at least an arm, maybe tumble down a hill. He does his best to stay as still as possible, but he’s only a man; he can’t help sneaking his hands around his face. He really shouldn’t have. 

It comes with a screech from Yeonjun and then the clattering of metal, shared groans and tangled limbs. 

“Fuck me,” Soobin croaks. 

Yeonjun rolls over, hiding himself from the world against Soobin’s chest. “I think you broke my face.” 

“Guess we really gotta go to the doctor now.” 

“Oh, fuck you.” 

The doctor looks them up and down, pursing his lips. He nods. “So… you two fell with the bike.” 

Yeonjun takes the ice pack off his cheek. “Well, yes, but you really gotta test his blood.” 

“He just has a scratch up his knee.” 

Soobin shakes his head, pressing the pack back to the bruise blossoming on Yeonjun’s face. “I’m fine, Jun.” 

“No, doc, please, can you?” 

The doctor sighs. He looks at Soobin. Soobin sighs with him, offering him a close-lipped smile and a shrug. The doctor sighs. “Alright. Let’s get you tested, then.” 

Yeonjun gets kicked out of the room. It feels like eternity before he’s allowed back in again. He’s still got his ice pack with him, a little limp as he rushes back into the seat next to Soobin. He lays his hand on Soobin’s shoulder, dead serious when he asks, “Does he have a heart disease?” 

The doctor coughs, looking down at the results. “Hm. He’s a little low on iron, but everything else is just fine.” 

Yeonjun shakes his head. “No, doctor, you don’t understand! He always gets very red around me!”

The doctor looks at Soobin, who lays his finger to his lips with a grin. 

The doctor looks down at the paper. “Well, maybe you should think about why that is.” 

Yeonjun opens his mouth to protest, but Soobin cuts him off. He’s pointing at the jar on the desk. “Can I have one?” 

“Uhm, Sir, those are for kids,” the doctor says. 

However, Soobin doesn’t stop staring with those big doe eyes. The doctor squirms, but Soobin keeps staring, pouting. He’s still pointing. That bastard, playing dirty. Yeonjun wants to sink into the floor. Soobin makes him feel like that a lot. 

They leave the office shortly after that. With a pout and a frown Yeonjun carries iron pills in a plastic bag while Soobin sucks on the lollipop he got for ‘being a big boy’. 

“See, I told you nothing was wrong,” Soobin says. 

“I was just worried about you, dick,” Yeonjun mutters. He tries hiding his face in his collar, though it isn’t of much use.

Soobin leans into Yeonjun’s line of sight, eyes sparkling. He pulls the lollipop out of his mouth. “Junie? Worried about me? Gosh, aren’t you just the sweetest.” 

“I can’t believe they gave you that lollipop,” Yeonjun grumbles.  

Soobin sticks out his tongue. “You’re just jealous they didn’t give you one.” 

“You whined for that thing. That’s so embarrassing.” 

They wander back to Yeonjun’s dorm, bike in hand as neither are confident enough to ride it. Also, with both their scraped knees, it would just hurt. Taking walks with Soobin isn’t all that bad either. He wanders as closely to Soobin as possible, knocking into him playfully. 

Soobin doesn’t comment, only ruffling up Yeonjun’s hair with a blinding smile. The sun is setting, coloring the sky deep orange. Golden looks pretty on Soobin, looking like his skin is covered in sweet honey. His dimples, his crinkled eyes; Yeonjun can’t take his eyes off of him.  

He doesn’t want Soobin to go home just yet, even when they reach his dorm. So he asks, “Hey, wanna head up with me?” 

Soobin’s mouth falls open. “Are… are you sure?” 

Yeonjun hums, smiling as widely as his bruised up cheek allows him. He winces. Soobin’s eyes widen, palm cupping Yeonjun’s cheek. “Shit, are you okay?” 

“Yeah, don’t worry. Stupid injury.” Yeonjun’s face feels hot. He looks down, trying to fight an even wider smile from forming. He really can’t afford to smile right now. Curse Soobin for being so goddamn adorable. 

He clears his throat, hand wrapping around Soobin’s. “How about we take the elevator today. I can’t bend my legs.” 

Soobin lets out a huff of laughter, nose scrunching up. “Sure. Let’s go.” 

Yeonjun lives on the second floor. He rarely takes the elevator, so he only now realizes how tiny it actually is, especially standing next to Soobin with his large stature. Yeonjun himself isn’t the smallest either. He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, intertwining his pinky with Soobin’s. 

Soobin gives them a little swing. Yeonjun can see him grinning in the reflection, dimples out. Gosh, when did he get so hopeless. The elevator dings, but Soobin doesn’t let him go, so Yeonjun squirms past him. Soobin follows shortly after. They giggle as they stumble through the hall, drunk on their giddiness. 

Yeonjun pulls out his keys, jingling them in the locks. “Sorry if it’s messy. 

“Oh, I don’t mind. You’ve seen my place.” Soobin shakes his head. “Kai’s been hoarding again. Every corner I turn there’s a fuzzy monster ready to eat my soul.” 

“His plushies?” 

“Diabolical things, truly.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. He pushes the door open, letting out a yelp. Beomgyu stands frozen in the center of their living room, a mouthful of ramen hanging out of his mouth. It slips out comically slow, falling back into the cup. The splashes hit him in the face. Beomgyu groans. 

That’s not the worst, however; Beomgyu is dressed down, in his fuzzy pajamas with a ribbon hairband on to keep his bangs out of his eyes. The shirt he’s wearing is the one Yeonjun had gotten him as a joke two years back, the one with Bugs and Daffy making out. A cursed thing, really. Beomgyu wore it around the house, as revenge. If he had to own the thing, Yeonjun would have to witness it. 

Beomgyu’s eyes fleet between Soobin and Yeonjun, back to Soobin again. “Who?”

“Oh, hi. You’re Beomgyu, right?” Soobin gives him a slight bow. “I’m Soobin.” 

Beomgyu nods, only once. He looks them both up and down with such an unnerving calmness to him it makes Yeonjun squirm. “What the fuck happened to you two.” 

“Little accident along the way,” Yeonjun says. He tugs at Soobin’s arm. “Uh, wanna come in?” 

Soobin’s stare wanders off to Beomgyu. He gulps, grip tightening around Yeonjun’s hand. “I, uh, I think I’ll drop by some other time.” In a whisper he adds, “When I'm more prepared.”  

Yeonjun’s teeth sink into his bottom lip. His shoulders sag. “Okay. See you soon?” 

Soobin grins. “Of course.” 

He then pulls Yeonjun into a bone crushing hug. His vanilla scent is calming, overwhelming Yeonjun’s senses. It’s weird how he smells like this, when he claimed his body wash was honey-scented. Yeonjun doesn’t dwell on it too much, wrapping his arms around Soobin’s waist. 

Soobin is still smiling when he lets go. “Okay, I’ll be going now. Thank you for today.” 

Yeonjun waves after him as he exits. “Anytime…” 

The door shuts with a soft click. He can feel Beomgyu’s stare burning in his back. There are a million things he’d like to do, rather than face Beomgyu, but he shouldn’t push these things out of the way. It’ll only build up further, and Beomgyu will only grow scarier. 

“Hey, Gyu…” he says, voice shaky. 

“Yeonjun, are you sure? This one?” Beomgyu stares at the spot where Soobin had stood, then pinches the bridge of his nose. “Is he even a real person?” 

Yeonjun frowns. “Of course Soobin’s real. You’ve seen him!” 

“Yeah… but I think I was on drugs… He is a caricature! There’s no way he exists.” Beomgyu looks Yeonjun up and down, then shakes his head. “You art people are so weird.” 

Yeonjun wants to take offense to the statement, but really. He can’t. It’s true. As painful as it is to admit. Instead of commenting, he takes the chopsticks from Beomgyu’s hands, taking a bite. 

Beomgyu’s jaw falls to the floor. “Yeonjun! What the fuck, I had those in my mouth!” 

Yeonjun sighs. He shoves a bite into Beomgyu’s mouth as well. The muffled screams and angry noises give Yeonjun enough time to flee to the couch for shelter. Beomgyu’s aim is good, though. The pillow hits him square in the face. 

He groans in pain, clutching his cheek. 

“Holy shit, I’m so sorry!” Beomgyu slaps his hand over his mouth, hurrying to their shared bathroom. 

Next thing Yeonjun knows is he’s seated on their couch, yet another ice pack numbing half his face. Can’t Buy Me Love numbs his ears, but even that can’t cheer Yeonjun up. Fuck him. He’s never taking Soobin’s bike again. That’s a lie. He’d do anything for Soobin. That wretched bike, however, gotta go. 

He gasps, shooting up. Fuck. Fuck . He’d do anything for Soobin. 

“Fuck me,” he says.

Beomgyu pulls up his nose. “No?”

“No, Beomgyu.” Yeonjun turns to face Beomgyu, eyes like he’s seen hell. “Fuck me. I’m fucked.” 

Beomgyu twirls hand. “Because…?” 

Yeonjun falls back into the couch, kicking his feet. He stares at their dirty ceiling, counting all the ten rings the water stain had left. “I like Soobin. Fuck me .” 

Yeonjun knows he tends to be an over-worker at times. He’s especially an over-worker when he’s trying to avoid certain problems in his life outside of his working space. When he’s working, he at least has the excuse as to why he’s ignoring them. He needs to keep his mind busy if he wants his heart to be at ease. 

It certainly chases away the thoughts of Soobin – or so he likes to think, because really, it’s not doing anything for him. When he’s doodling designs in his sketchbook, he can’t help but realize how the little puppets start looking more and more like Soobin. The dimples first, then that stupid paperboy hat, the suspenders. Slacks. Oh no. 

Yeonjun stares down at the little figures, heart beating in his throat. His fingers shake. He wants nothing more than to forget about them, but he doesn’t have it in him to rip out the page. He runs his finger over not-Soobin’s curvy little grin, his own lips falling into a pout. 

He misses Soobin. That’s not a problem, per se. He knows if he asks, Soobin would come to spend time with him. The problem is Yeonjun knows Soobin likes him, and he knows he likes Soobin. The problem is Yeonjun doesn’t know what to do next. He doesn’t know. 

Confess, become a couple, it all seems easy in theory. It could be easy, but the future is uncertain. Yeonjun is uncertain. It should be easy, but Yeonjun’s brain is overturning, and all the wires are messing up. He can’t think anymore. He lays his head on his table, staring out the window. It’s dark. It’s dark already. Yeonjun should probably get going, before uni closes. 

But he still has so many things to do. So many things to sort out. Yet he’s unable to move, glued to his chair. The rain is clattering against the glass, blurring out the streetlights. 

Yeonjun sighs. He should get working on his end project but there is nothing . There’s nothing he can think of. Nothing seems to come from the heart, and he doubts he’ll be passionate enough to spend weeks on it. His style has never been an issue; he has always done what he wants. He puts his personal touch to it with his dotwork. He’s never liked working in strokes, instead tapping at the canvas painting the world in colors it doesn’t know. He can see the real world all the time; in art he can show how he perceives it. 

He loses track of time, staring ahead of him like the art gods will somehow bestow an idea upon him. It doesn’t get darker anymore. Suddenly he hears a sound coming from the hall. His heart speeds up. He was so sure he was the only one around here. Maybe the cleaner? 

He doesn’t get up. Only idiots in horror films go to check out the dangers; Yeonjun has seen enough to learn from there. However, the footsteps stop, right before the studio. Yeonjun holds his breath when the doorknob turns, grabbing the closest palette knife he can find. 

The figure who turns the corner, however, is more than familiar, and nothing to fear. Yeonjun’s shoulders slump. “Soobin.” 

Soobin nods his head at him, though stays by the entrance. “I came to pick you up.” 

“Oh, Soobin, you shouldn’t have.” Yeonjun’s cheeks heat up. He looks down at his sketchbook, the little figures feeling like a sick joke. “I’ve got some stuff to finish.” 

Even from here, Yeonjun can hear Soobin sigh. “Come on, you won’t be getting anything done today. You won’t be happy with it.” 

Yeonjun purses his lips. He then slams his sketchbook shut. “Fine.” 

Soobin watches Yeonjun pack up. Yeonjun tries his best to brush off the gaze. Soobin has watched him work more times than he can count. He doesn’t get why it’s bothering him so much right now. He quickly shoves his supplies into his backpack, clasping it shut and swinging it over his shoulder. 

“Ready?” Soobin asks. Yeonjun can only nod. 

The way out is spent in silence. The halls are eerie when they’re quiet. Yeonjun doesn’t look at Soobin, heart beating in his throat and his stomach twisting into knots. He feels quite nauseous, but he blames it on exhaustion. He gasps when he bumps into Soobin. 

“Sorry,” he murmurs, looking down. They come to a halt by the exit. Yeonjun’s mouth falls open. “Oh.” 

The sky is clattering down onto the tiles, even worse than the last time he had checked it. It even bounces up, sure to get into their shoes. 

Yeonjun groans. “Man, this sucks.” 

“It wasn’t raining when I left, but I managed to bring an umbrella,” Soobin says. “I’ve only got one, though. But it’s big enough to fit both of us.” He purses his lips in thought. “I’ll hold the umbrella. Then you can hold your skirt up. Keep it as dry as you can.” 

Yeonjun looks at his feet as if to check his outfit, like he hadn’t put too much thought into it that morning. “Oh, thanks.” 

Soobin breaks out into a grin. He loops his arm with Yeonjun’s, popping out the umbrella. It’s purple, with some logo on it. Definitely one given away somewhere for free. “Stick close,” he says. 

Yeonjun doesn't miss the way his voice sings. He doesn’t comment on it, murmuring out another thanks. The clattering of rain is deafening. Yeonjun presses himself to Soobin’s side, bunching up the fabric of his skirt with the other hand. He loves them long, but in weather like this he admits it’s impractical. 

His socks are soggy with rain, water filling up his shoes. He squints at the small droplets falling on his shoulder. Soobin shifts the umbrella. 

Yeonjun’s head snaps around. “Oh, Soobin, no you don’t–” 

“Wanna go to yours or mine?” Soobin interrupts him. 

“What about Kai?” Yeonjun asks. 

“Out for band practice.” 

Yeonjun bites his bottom lip. He knows he wants it. He wouldn’t have asked if he didn’t, but after treating Soobin to a nice portion of avoidance, it feels shameless. 

But he misses Soobin. He misses spending time with him. He wants to be selfish, even if it’s just for today. He wants to be close to Soobin, wants to feel that rush through his veins, have it lift him off the ground. 

Yeonjun can’t look at Soobin when he asks, “Can… can we go to yours?” 

Like the sun breaking through the clouds, Soobin grins. “Of course.” 

When they arrive, their feet are soaked. Yeonjun leaves his shoes by the door, socks as well. He’s been here before, but it feels like ages ago, even when he knows it’s only two weeks ago. 

Soobin rummages around in front of him, searching around in a box. He pulls out a pair of jogging pants and green fuzzy socks, gingerbread men spread over them. He presses them in Yeonjun’s hands. “Here. Go get changed into that while your clothes dry.” 

“Thanks,” Yeonjun mumbles. “I’ll go to the bathroom.” 

“Sure.” Soobin pauses, holding up a finger. “One last question. Do you want something to eat?” 

“Oh, well, if it’s not too much trouble.” 

“Ramen is never a trouble.” 

Yeonjun nods. “Oh, uh, then sure. I’ll be here for a while, right?” 

“Okay!” Soobin claps his hands, eyes crinkling up in a smile. “Okay, okay, go get changed now. I’ll go work on it.” 

Yeonjun is embarrassed to admit he’s rushing to get changed. Soobin’s legs are longer than his, but not by much, so the pants fit just fine. Yeonjun grins down at the Christmas socks, shaking both his feet. He never thought Soobin would own any of these, too caught up in his aesthetic theme. 

He sneaks his way out of the bathroom. He knows he doesn’t have to, but he doesn’t want to break the image before him. His heart melts. 

Soobin can’t cook. Yeonjun knows that. Soobin doesn’t cook, but here he is, trying . He’s battling the stove with a frown on his face. A curse slips like a breath. 

A snort escapes Yeonjun before he can stop it. He slaps a palm over his mouth. 

Soobin turns around. “I heard that. It’s not my fault.” 

Yeonjun giggles. “I said nothing.” 

“But you’re thinking it.” 

Yeonjun shrugs teasingly. He shuffles to Soobin’s side. “Come on, let me help.” 

Soobin shakes his head. “It’s just a stove. I’ve used it before.” 

“Uh huh, sure,” Yeonjun says.

“It’s true!” Soobin exclaims. The flame flashes on with a click. “Eureka! See!” 

“I believe you, I believe you,” Yeonjun says. He empties the packet in the water. “But a little teamwork does no harm.” 

“We are the dream team, I must say.” 

“That’s what you think.” 

Yeonjun turns to look at Soobin. There’s a gaze in Soobin’s eyes, one Yeonjun hasn’t seen before. Yeonjun reaches out, clutching onto Soobin’s sleeve. “I missed you.” 

“You don’t have to.” Soobin cups Yeonjun’s cheeks, his fingers warm and slightly clammy. 

He runs his thumb over Yeonjun’s bottom lip, eyes fluttering to meet Yeonjun’s. Yeonjun’s breath comes out shaky. And then the voice of the divine comes into his brain, sounding an awfully lot like Beomgyu’s. Fuck it! Fuck it all! 

He leans forward, pressing a quick peck to Soobin’s lips. 

Soobin stares at him, mouth slightly ajar. However, the daze leaves him quickly. “Do it properly.” 

A large hand comes to grab Yeonjun’s chin, and Soobin’s lips are on his again, softly nipping at his bottom lip. Yeonjun lays his hand over Soobin’s, holding onto his fingers. 

He licks at Soobin’s bottom lip, tasting the remnants of spicy ramen on them. He leans into him, a soft moan slipping from his throat. His stomach flutters, a ticklish sensation blossoming in the pit of it, spreading through his like warmth. 

They pull away to catch their breath, foreheads pressed together. Soobin rubs circles on Yeonjun’s cheek with his thumb, hot breath fanning out. “I like you, Yeonjun. I really do. I’m not playing you. I promise you that much.” 

“I know you aren’t.”

“Then what’s wrong?” 

Yeonjun turns his head away. “It’s complicated.”

“Then explain it to me,” Soobin says. He places a finger beneath Yeonjun’s chin, tipping his head up. 

Yeonjun can’t do anything when Soobin looks at him with those eyes, big and sparkly, this time glistening with a need for understanding. 

“Soobin, I’m…” Yeonjun swallows thickly. “I’ll be graduating soon. And I won’t be staying here. I’ve… I’ve been offered an internship in Seoul.” 

“So, what’s stopping you?” Soobin asks, sincere and genuine like he always is. 

Yeonjun feels like he’s breaking a child’s heart, telling them the tooth fairy doesn’t exist. “Seoul is far away, Soobin. I won’t have time to see you and you won’t have time to see me and we can email, but it’s gonna be less spontaneous and then I’ll be missing you and you’ll make new friends and I’ll meet new people and… it’ll be like we’re worlds apart.” 

“You’re overthinking,” Soobin says.  

Yeonjun shakes his head. “I… No, I’m not. These are all valid worries!” 

“They are, but… can’t you live in the present?” Soobin’s eyes gloss over, shining like a star about to die out. 

“What?” Yeonjun asks, breathless. 

“Don’t worry about the future yet. It hasn’t come yet.” Soobin lays his palm on Yeonjun’s chest. “What do you feel for me now?” 

It seems you don’t need to be a psychologist to pick Yeonjun’s mind apart, because the question sends his head spinning, turning into overdrive. What does he feel? A lot. He feels so much when he’s around Soobin. He feels frustrated and overjoyed, excited and pissed off, he wants to hug him and twist his neck, all at the same. He feels like he wants Soobin to stick around. 

Yeonjun looks into Soobin’s eyes. “I… I like you.” 

“And I like you,” Soobin says. “See? Not so complicated anymore.” 

“Yeah, but–” 

“Think here and now. Do you want to date me?” 

“Yes.” 

“Then date me. Be my boyfriend.” Soobin’s gaze is burning, a fire Yeonjun doesn’t want to see go out. He holds onto Yeonjun’s hand. “The future is never set. The future you’re imagining might never come. So here and now, be my boyfriend.”

Yeonjun drops his gaze, whispering, “Will you regret it?” 

“I don’t know,” Soobin answers. “But I definitely would regret not asking you to be mine.” 

Yeonjun huffs, smiling. “Cheesy.” 

“I’ve read a lot of poetry.” Soobin’s smile then falls into a frown. “Wait, do you smell that?” 

Yeonjun’s eyes about pop out of their sockets. “Fuck, the ramen!” 

Yeonjun was in charge of their first date as a couple. Soobin’s heart swells up when he meets Yeonjun on campus, right between their buildings. Up by the big tree that probably held emotional significance. 

They don't let go of each other’s hands, even when their palms get sweaty. Yeonjun skips ahead of him; Soobin has no choice but to go along with him. Yeonjun’s eyes twinkle like the night sky, smile spreading from ear to ear. He’s giggling to himself, that soft nasal sound he gets when he’s trying to keep it in. 

Soobin raises his arm. Yeonjun takes it as a sign to twirl around it like they’re dancing a waltz. “What do you have planned, Yeonjunnie?” Soobin asks. “What’s got you so bouncy?” 

Yeonjun winks. He slips his hand back in Soobin’s, swinging them back and forth. “You’ll have to wait and see. I spent long thinking about it.” 

“Fine, fine, I won’t be asking questions then.” Soobin looks at the sky, lips pursed together. However, his gaze travels back to Yeonjun’s glowing face. He breaks out into a grin. “You look really pretty today.” 

“I–” Yeonjun goes red, bumping his shoulder into Soobin softly. “Thank you.” 

“You look really cute today, Jun,” Soobin continues. “The pins are your own touch?” 

He would only tell Soobin later, on their first anniversary, how long he had stayed up the previous night, holding Beomgyu hostage in his room to judge each and every outfit he had put together, eventually settling for overalls and a rainbow-printed T-shirt, meticulously picking out each and every accessory he pinned on it. 

Yeonjun looks down at his overalls, picking at the Tom and Jerry chasing each other. “Yeah. How’d you know?” 

“Just a hunch.” Soobin pinches his cheek. “It’s really cute.” 

“You just called me cute twice in a row.” 

“Because you are!” 

“Okay, okay, fine. Stop it now.” Yeonjun’s eyes go big. He pulls Soobin in front of him, slapping his palms in front of Soobin’s eyes. 

“Hey, what’s this?” Soobin’s hand sneaks up to wrap itself around Yeonjun’s wrist. 

Yeonjun stands on his tippy toes. “Shh, that’s the surprise. We’re here!” 

Soobin can’t help himself, his heart swelling up to twice its side. He can feel Yeonjun beaming against his ear, chest pressing into his back. It makes Soobin’s heart flutter, with that funny tingle in his stomach. The excitement comes off Yeonjun like bubbles in champagne, Soobin fizzing along with him. 

“So? Am I gonna get to see it?” Soobin asks.

“Wanna guess?” Yeonjun teases.

Soobin hums, pretending to be thinking hard. “The movies?” 

Yeonjun clicks his tongue playfully. “Gosh, Soobin, that’s so boring. I swear, this is way more exciting. Prepare to be surprised.” 

Yeonjun removes his palms and Soobin’s eyes flutter open to neon signs, flickering like fireworks in Yeonjun’s irises. 

With a giddy skip, Yeonjun appears next to Soobin. He takes his hand. “Come on, let’s go in!” 

Soobin lets Yeonjun drag him along. He’s still bouncy while he purchases tickets, bouncy when he picks out skates. Soobin’s heart is beating in his throat as he laces up. His hands cramp up with how hard he grips onto the bench.  

Honestly, he’s content with watching Yeonjun twirl around like a graceful ballerina. 

Yeonjun jumps up, testing out the skates by rolling them back and forth on the spot. “Come on, Soobin! Let’s get on the rink!” 

“Uh, yeah,” Soobin goes down, pretending to tie his laces for the nth time, “give me a moment.” 

“Wait…” A smile threatens to appear on Yeonjun’s face. He rolls forward, coming to a halt when his and Soobin’s faces are inches apart. “You can’t skate?” 

Now, this is a game of ego. Soobin straightens his back. “Sure can!” 

“Okay, okay! No need to get offended!” Yeonjun hides his snicker behind his hand. He gets up, skating to the rink. However, he stops. “You coming?” 

“Y-yeah, one sec! Let me check my laces one last time, okay? You go ahead. I’ll follow soon.” 

Yeonjun nods, skepticism clear. Still, he lets Soobin off the hook. He presses a kiss to the crown of Soobin’s head. “Okay. Hurry up, okay?” 

Soobin smiles after him, only dropping it after Yeonjun is out of sight. He deflates. Okay, so maybe he can’t skate. Maybe he’s really, really terrible at it. But how could he tell that to Yeonjun’s face? He’s not a monster. He just got his boyfriend. He doesn’t want to lose him already! 

Facing it like a soldier, Soobin wobbles on his skates. His knuckles are white around the railing. His knees buckle. With a yelp, he clutches on tighter, pulling himself up. 

Yeonjun tilts his head at him, amusement nipping at the corners of his mouth. “Soobin… if you can’t skate you can just tell me.” 

“No!” Soobin’s words come out strained as he fights gravity. “No, I need to… warm up. Yes.” 

Yeonjun giggles, coming to a halt in front of Soobin. He holds out his hands. “Come on, I’ll help you. I can skate backwards.” 

“Promise not to tease me too much.” 

“You know I can’t do that, Soobs.” 

“Soobs?” 

Yeonjun slaps his upper arm. “Oh, hush, you.”

“Soobs.” Soobin giggles. “Soobs. Soobs. That’s so cute. You’re so cute!” 

“Hold on, Soobs . I’m making it my mission to have you at least not fall on your ass.” 

Soobin pouts, but still takes Yeonjun’s hands in his. Yeonjun glides backwards slowly, adjusting to Soobin’s pace – or lack thereof. Soobin struggles. A lot. Yeonjun can’t help but tease him a little . Only a tiny bit. 

The most Soobin does is grumble, and then screech because he nearly felt the floor disappear beneath him. He falls forward into Yeonjun, arms wrapped around him like it was his only chance at life. 

Yeonjun holds him just as tightly, body vibrating with laughter. Soobin feels his fear melt into the exact joy on Yeonjun’s face. The world stops for a moment when he presses a kiss to Yeonjun’s nose. Yeonjun blinks at him, before counterattacking with a kiss to the lips. 

They only skate a few more rounds, though it’s more of Yeonjun skating and Soobin being dragged along like a deadweight. They quickly move on to pizza and opt to watch other people skate instead. They end up stuffed and dopey. 

“Let’s get out of here,” Yeonjun declares. 

Soobin agrees with ease. Before they know it, they’re back outside, the sun much further down the horizon. Yeonjun pulls him to the back of the rink, out of plain sight. They kiss under the lamppost until it turns on. It’s romantic bliss. Everything Soobin had seen in movies was unfolding right before him, a dream come true. 

Yeonjun smiles like fireflies dancing around the skies. Soobin burns up with him and like a moth to a flame, he dances along. They dance along to the melody of their heartbeats. Yeonjun shines the brightest when he’s happy. Oh, Soobin’s in love alright. 

However, the deadline closes in on them. Soobin knows it’s coming. Yeonjun works on his end piece with relentless fervor, all the while balancing it with a thesis paper. Soobin brings him snacks, sits with him to work on his own stuff, reminding him breaks are okay. 

Yeonjun makes time for him; he still comes to watch movies on Soobin’s projector and they still take walks in the park, sit on the swings and talk about everything they can think of, or simply sit with one another, pinkies connected. Sometimes physical presence is all they need. Soobin remembers the creases in Yeonjun’s palms, remembers how rough his fingertips feel against his cheeks when he pulls him down into a kiss. 

Soobin starts bringing around his camera to their dates, shooting Yeonjun’s smile when he spots a convenience store on their way back, the way his eyes barely open up when he wakes up. He shoots films of Yeonjun working by his side, eyes furrowed in concentration, the blushes when he realizes Soobin is immortalizing it all. They’re all short clips, but they’re written in Soobin’s heart. He hopes they are in Yeonjun’s, too. 

In their moments apart, Soobin stays busy. He stays up late at night, a desk lamp set on their coffee table, compiling all the memories. The radio plays softly in the background, humming some new boy group song. It’s creaky and static, but it’s familiar to Soobin. 

Kai is sleeping in the background; he’s learned how to block Soobin out by now, and the loud speakers of his band practice have probably ruined his hearing to an extent. The soft breathing brings a calmness to the room. 

Soobin has never been a night owl, really, but when the world is asleep he can hear his heart beat, the steady thumping that keeps him going. The way it speeds up when he replays shots of Yeonjun in his most mundane moments, looking more like a winged being than anything else in Soobin’s eyes. He wonders how he’ll go back to a life without him. 

They’d been dancing around each other for weeks, but it’s mind boggling how quickly Yeonjun has crept into Soobin’s routine and how empty it will be once he’s not there anymore. Soobin knows he’ll be searching for him. 

Sighing, Soobin sits back. The tape lays in pieces in front of him. He’s got some work left. He hopes Yeonjun is asleep. 

The ceiling is painfully white. Yeonjun doesn’t have the imagination left to project scenarios onto it, imagine complex daydreams with a million side plots. All his creative energy has been poured into a portrait, the colors too bright in the night’s navy blue. They don’t match his mood the best, either. 

He sighs, twirling the paintbrush in his hand. The scent of paint makes him light in the head, sticking to the inside of his nose and turning his fingers shaky. He heaves a sigh, running his fingers through his hair, the pink faded. He should probably snip it off. Later. He’ll ask Soobin to do it, maybe. 

Yeonjun knows of the saying: take a step back and don’t overdo it. He thinks he’s reached that point. He wipes his hands on his flannel, stained with prints from previous works. One step, two steps, Yeonjun crosses his arms. He smiles. With an aching heart, he smiles. 

Downpour at Dusk . He’s done. 

“Soobin, pull yourself together!” Kai exclaims, holding Soobin’s hand. 

“I am pulled together!” Soobin’s fingers shake around the loop of his tie. He nearly falls over when a person brushes into his back. They don’t apologize; Soobin is too stressed to care about it. He cuddles the gift to his chest, peeking in if it’s still in one piece. 

He deflates with relief. “Thank fuck.” He turns to Kai. “Okay, let’s find Jun.” 

They find him at the center of the room, his canvas as tall as he is. Soobin brushes past people, avoids them the best he can. He speedwalks as fast as he can, right into Yeonjun’s waiting arms. 

Yeonjun closes the hug, keeping Soobin close. “Hello there, baby.” 

“Hi,” Soobin whispers back. 

“You made it.”

“Of course I did. It’s only one of the most important events in my boyfriend’s life.” 

Yeonjun vibrates with a soft giggle, patting Soobin’s back. He pulls away. “Wanna see it? Tell me what you think objectively, okay?” 

“Putting on my art critic glasses,” Soobin says, saluting. He looks up, mouth falling open. 

The colors reflect in the brown of Soobin’s irises, like a year full of seasons come clashing down in them, spinning, living inside of him. Yeonjun steps aside, staying by his side. He loops their arms together. 

Soobin stands still, awe written all over his features. He holds the bag a little tighter, eyes glossing over. There’s two figures in the right bottom corner of the canvas, like they aren’t the main characters of the piece. 

As bright as Yeonjun is, so are the colors he uses as well. Though it’s raining, the sky is yellow, its reflection falling in the blue puddles on the ground. The trees sway along with the wind, dotted drops of paint forming a big picture. Not everyone may recognize it, but Soobin definitely does. 

He’s walked those streets a hundred times with Yeonjun by his side, exactly as the two figures in oil. It’s exactly as they were, a person next to another, one holding an umbrella, the other clutching a bicycle. Brushing shoulders, heads turned to each other when they really should be watching the road. They have no clear faces, but they are warm. Soobin is always warm when he’s with Yeonjun. 

“Jun, this is… beautiful,” Soobin says softly.  

Yeonjun lays his head on Soobin’s shoulder. “Just a little something.” 

Soobin shakes his head, turning to face Yeonjun, to make sure Yeonjun can see him. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.” 

“You always are,” Yeonjun says, but his lips are smiling, his stomach fluttering.  

“Of course I am,” Soobin says. “I love you.” 

I love you . I love you, I love you , the words replay in Yeonjun’s mind. I love you , spilling from Soobin’s lips. Yeonjun’s blood runs cold, yet his heart is warm, burning like a hearth in the winter. He looks down at their intertwined hands. “I– Oh, that’s new.” 

Soobin rests his head against Yeonjun’s. “You don’t have to say it back. But I love you. A lot.” 

“Well, what if I love you too?” Yeonjun looks up, sees himself in Soobin’s seasonal flurry, right at the center of the technicolor rush. “I love you, too.” 

“Oh,” Soobin says. “ Oh . Thanks.” 

Yeonjun snorts. “Thanks? Soobin, my god!”

“I’m flustered!” 

Yeonjun smiles at him, doesn’t speak. He runs his fingers through Soobin’s hair, a content sigh leaving his lips. “I’m glad I met you. I don’t want to imagine what life would have been like without you.”

“You don’t have to.” Soobin snaps his fingers. “Oh, right! I, uh, I got a gift for you.”  

Yeonjun stretches his neck curiously. Soobin presses the bag in his hands. Yeonjun reaches his hand into it. “Oh, what is it?” 

“Don’t open it yet,” Soobin says. “Not until you’re in Seoul, okay?” 

Yeonjun presses a kiss to Soobin’s lips, then taps his nose. “Sure thing, Mr. Mysterious. Wanna get dinner? Pasta, my treat.” 

Yeonjun leaves for Seoul a week later. Soobin helps him pack. Beomgyu, too, as well as Taehyun. Beomgyu sniffles a bit when he sees Yeonjun’s half emptying out with each belonging disappearing into one of the many boxes. 

“Ey, you are gonna miss me.” Yeonjun’s voice wavers when he says it. 

Beomgyu shakes his head, long bangs falling into his eyes. Anyone can see the tears glistening in them, however, the first one spilling over the edge. “No. I won’t. Not at all.” 

Yeonjun doesn’t even tease him, only pulls him into a tight hug. He cups the back of Beomgyu’s head, ruffling it up a bit. Beomgyu shakes, but his cries are silent. Yeonjun rubs his back, holding back his own tears. 

Once he’s done, Taehyun steps into his spot. He pats his chest twice, then points at Yeonjun. “All the best.” 

Yeonjun huffs out a laugh. Before Taehyun can process it, he too is trapped in a hug. Taehyun keeps up a good front, but Soobin can see the edges glistening. He sniffles, rubbing his nose. “Wow, that was something.” He forces out a laugh. “All the best.” 

Yeonjun smiles wetly. “Of course, Tyun.” 

A heavy silence settles in the room, hanging right around their hearts. Yeonjun looks up at Beomgyu, nodding. 

Beomgyu coughs, saying in a raspy voice, “Let’s go outside, Taehyun-ah.” 

“Yeah.” Taehyun throws his arm around Beomgyu. 

Soobin watches the two of them leave, the door clicking back into the lock softly. He waits a beat or two before he turns to Yeonjun, when he dares look at him again. 

“Hey,” Yeonjun whispers. 

“Hi,” Soobin says back. 

The tears are welling up. He grabs Yeonjun’s wrist, pulling him into a tight embrace, one hand holding the back of his head, the other wrapped around his shoulders. He holds Yeonjun like he’s trying to leave his traces on his skin, like he’s trying to leave his dent, so he remembers how it feels to hold him. 

Yeonjun pats Soobin’s back, inhaling deeply. “I love you, baby. So much. I love you.” 

“I love you too,” Soobin says under his breath, fearing his voice will crack if he says it louder. 

They remain in each other’s arms, in a half empty room, stacks of boxes and half packed suitcases. Soobin can feel hot drops falling on his skin, Yeonjun shuddering with each breath he takes, and he lets go. The waterworks flow freely. 

He sniffles, until he eventually cries. He doesn’t cry like he’s seen on the big screen. He doesn’t cry that prettily. When he cries, his entire face crumples up, eyes turning puffy and his nose stuffy and snotty. There isn’t anything pretty about being sad. 

“This isn’t the end, right?” Soobin asks, voice crushed to shambles. “This isn’t the end of us.” 

Yeonjun runs his thumbs over Soobin’s cheeks, taking the tears with him. “Of course not. We’re sturdier than this.” 

Soobinnie, 

I got your gift. How much work did you put into this? That’s why you were carrying your camera around with you! I knew it was some sneaky business. (I forgive you, tho, since it’s cute. I may have cried. Only a little, hush.) 

I miss u so much :(( i havent finished setting up yet, so ive been camping on my floor. My housemate is out to somewhere every day, so ive havent met them yet either. I hope theyre nice… im sure they will be. 

im planning on going around seoul tmr!! Get accustomed and maybe know where the grocery store is. Always handy. 

I love you so so soooooooooooo muchhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! Sending you kisses from all the way over here!!!!!! It’s not the same, but for now this’ll have to do. Cries

:( missing you  

- yeonjun

_____________________________________________________________

Yeonjun love, 

Sleeping on the floor? I hope there’s a mattress at least, and bedsheets. You shouldn’t get cold at night. I know the weather is warming up, but it still gets cold at night. Seoul must be warmer, I think, but don’t underestimate it! And if your housemate is mean, I’ll come right over. Trust me, they’ll be so intimidated when they see me, they won’t even dare look at you. I’m very intimidating, you see. Please tell me about all your findings in Seoul, and don’t skip out on every teeny-tiny detail, okay? I want to hear it all! 

With love,

Soobin

_____________________________________________________________

Yeonjun love, 

I hope you’re doing well (and that your back is intact!). Campus is so lonely now that I don’t have you to bother. Taehyun’s kinda scary, too. He’s cute, to be honest, but he can be so mean. He’s my new lunch buddy, now that you’ve left. He hit it off well with Kai, though. You think they’ll ditch me to fall in love? Kai must be buzzing with revenge fuel. Tell me everything about Seoul. Once you’ve settled, of course! Make new friends (but it’s you, so that won’t be too hard. You’re made to be liked.)

With love,

Soobin

_____________________________________________________________

Soobinnie, 

Sorry im so late with responding :( It’s been hectic. The place ive gotten isn’t the greatest and my housemate kind of is horrible. He scares me a little, but im pushing forward!!! I miss you :( 

Seoul is so big!!! And kinda dirty. But its a city, so what did we expect? Ive managed to find my way to the convenience store and back. And also to work, of course. Im still getting to know the kids right now. Teenagers these days are scary. I think they might actually rip my soul from my body with their eyes. They kinda look like 0_0 

Scary. 

I miss you soooooo much :(

- yeonjun 

____________________________________________________________ 

“The skyline isn’t as pretty as in the postcards. You got my postcard, right?” 

Yeonjun’s voice is raspy on the other end of the line. Soobin had scraped together some of his earnings he’d managed to get with odd side jobs – and maybe begged his parents for a little bit of money – to finally get himself a cellphone. 

He doesn’t exactly understand how it works, but with a bit of help on Kai’s end, he’s managed to at least know how to make calls. 

“Postcard?” he echoes. 

“Oh no. You didn’t?” Yeonjun sighs. Soobin imagines him pouting. “I spoiled the surprise, no…” 

“I’ll pretend to be surprised when it arrives,” Soobin says. 

“You better. I chose the prettiest one.” 

In his head, Yeonjun is puffing out his chest, one hand on his side, wearing the proudest grin. 

“I’ll cherish it fondly, don’t worry. Anything you get me.” 

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “Sap.”

“You’re blushing, aren’t you. You’re blushing!” Soobin teases him. He falls backwards onto his bed. He hears some fumbling on the other end.  

“Hush, you,” Yeonjun laughs, but they die out quickly. “Hey, I gotta go now. I’ve got some work.”

“Yeah, I got some classes to prepare for as well.” 

“Okay. Bye.” 

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” 

The rhythmic bleeps when the call ends fall in sync with Soobin’s heartbeat. He stares at the ceiling. At least they share the sky and nights. 

_____________________________________________________________ 

Junie, Junie, my Yeonjunie,

I got it!! Wahhh, Yeonjunie, truly the artist. You’ve got such a good eye. This is the most beautiful postcard with the prettiest words in the prettiest font from the prettiest person. Did I mention you’re pretty? Hope to see your pretty face again soon, in real life, so I can leave kisses all over it. It’s so sad and lonely not waking up to those anymore. You’re the cutest in the morning, did you know? Your sleepy face is a sight I never want to share with anyone else. 

All my love, 

Soobin 

_____________________________________________________________ 

Yeonjun doesn’t respond for one and a half weeks. On the one hand, Soobin had expected it. He doesn’t always have access to a computer. Hell, Soobin also had to sneak on the one at university to get his messages through. 

His head starts running. Yeonjun is busy, that’s a fact. The other things that come to Soobin’s mind are nothing but baseless worries. Yeonjun has met new people, bigger people. People who have careers, who Yeonjun can talk to and have critical conversations with. Yeonjun’s world is bigger now, holds more excitement than Soobin could bring him. 

Yeonjun is forgetting about him. And when he doesn’t, Soobin is intruding. Yeonjun is drifting away further and further. 

Soobin misses him. He misses him so much, but he isn’t sure how he should hold onto him anymore.  

_____________________________________________________________ 

Soobinnie, 

Im so sorry. I always seem to miss you and im not too fast with responding either. Technology is not my best skill. I dont think its a skill at all TT Life in the city is busy sighhhhhh. Ive never been to so many post-work gatherings TT it’s tiring, if im being honest. And I miss you a lot, soobin. Seoul is so big but im finding my way. You’ve got to come by sometime. We can go on adventure tgt :( and wake up next to each other :((( and have all the kisses our hearts desire :((((((

Ill have some time off next week, though!! I miss your voice. I used to get tired of it, but it’s empty without your chattering :(

I miss you 

- yeonjun 

___________________________________________________________ 

Jun, 

Next week are my exams, but I always have time for you to squeeze in, of course. Anything for you. I miss your voice even more. Can we call again sometime? Please? I really want to talk to you. 

Yours truly, 

Soobin

_____________________________________________________________ 

The moment Soobin picked up the phone, he already felt it in the air. This bitter mood seeped through the line, overwhelming Soobin’s senses. He hadn’t been looking forward to the call, but there was this small ounce of hope he placed all his money on. 

“Soobin-ah.” For the first time hearing his name from Yeonjun’s lips sounds wrong.  

“Are you gonna say it?” Soobin asks, voice small.

“Hm?” Yeonjun frowns. “Say what?” 

“You feel it too, right?” 

Yeonjun sighs. “It’s hard for you too, right?”

“It is, but—!”

Yeonjun doesn’t let him finish. “You’re busy too, now. And I’m busy. And we’re far away. I can’t casually visit you.” 

The seams keeping Soobin together are ripping, a horrible tearing sound. Still, there is this inkling of hope that pushes him forward. “Are… are we breaking up?” 

He waits with his heart in his hands, holding it out for Yeonjun, still beating. He holds it out, hoping Yeonjun will take it and put it back into place. THe silence drags on, longer, longer. The beating of his heart slows, less, less. 

Yeonjun speaks. “We’re not breaking up, just… taking a break. Yeah? I still love you a lot, Soobin. So much, but I feel like right now I can’t give you the love you deserve.” 

“But it’s okay, really,” Soobin says hastily. “It’s okay, I can wait. I understand, really. 

“I’m sorry, Soobin.” 

It sounds like the end. 

“So we are breaking up?” 

“No! No, just… we’re just putting things on hold. I’m sorry. I really am. I love you Soobin.” 

The call dies, a flatline. Soobin dies with it. 

“And then we lost touch.” Yeonjun looks around the room, face scrunching up in amusement. “Wow, guys, you’re never that invested when I’m teaching.” 

Sunghee stands up. “Sir, you’re so mean!” 

“Relationships are harder than they seem,” Yeonjun says. “But I was mean, I agree. But love isn’t something that stays once it comes. You got to work for it. Sometimes it makes it, but sometimes it dies.” 

Sunghee shakes her head. “Boo! Boo, no! Why didn’t you tell us it had a bad ending?!” 

Chaeyoung tugs at her skirt. “Shut up… You’re so embarrassing!” 

Yeonjun shakes his head, chuckling. “Sunghee, hush, the story doesn’t end there.” 

_____________________

The story doesn’t end there, indeed. It just splits into two, where both aren’t sure how to feel, but are quite the mess about it. Almost like they’ve become a whole new person. Yeonjun, in the future, would call Soobin dramatic for it, and take offense to the absolute slander Soobin was subjecting a perfectly good movie to. Plus, if he still hated it, then he was still very Soobin-like. 

Soobin would beg to differ. He was stripped of all his Soobinness that time of his life. Because there was one essential that made Soobin, Soobin: he used to love ice cream and he used to love watching films on his projector, quality films . But it just feels empty on his couch now. And this is the fifth romcom he’s watching in a week. He’s wrapped up in his sheets as he stares out ahead of him, much like a zombie in search of humans to nibble on. 

It’s the worst movie of his life. Laney Boggs walks down the stairs, looking exactly the same except without glasses. Soobin boos at the screen, waving his spoon. 

“This movie is so stupid,” he cries. “It’s so stupid!” 

He shovels another spoonful of mint chocolate into his mouth. “This flavor is stupid too. Why is everything he likes stupid?!”

Kai coughs from his desk. “For the record, I don’t think mint choc is stupid.” 

“Then you’re stupid too!” Soobin throws himself down with a wail. “You can eat it! I don’t want it anymore!” 

He kicks his feet, then curls up in a fetal position. Kiss Me plays in the background. Soobin tears up, even if there aren’t many tears left to spill. It’s dry sniffles and a dull aching in his chest, like someone took his heart in their fist and then squeezed it dry of all its blood. Heartbreak is trying to murder him. 

“Soobin?” he hears Kai’s voice hover above him, unsure finger poking into his burrito’ed up self. “Are... are you gonna go out today? Do you need anything?” 

Soobin sniffles in response, rolling onto his face. Muffled sobs spill from his lips. 

“Aha.” Kai takes a step back, nodding. “I understand. I’ll be back soon, okay?” 

Soobin stays still, eyes falling shut. He’s out before Kai slocks the door behind him. 

He wakes up at the door slamming open. The walls shake and Soobin falls off the couch, helpless in his blanket cocoon. He yelps loudly and he swears he hears his ass break. The universe knocks him off his shit in the shape of Kang Taehyun. 

He grabs the blanket and rolls Soobin out of it like he’s unwrapping a carpet. Soobin lands in a starfish position, world spinning. Taehyun’s face hangs in his vision, eyes unsettlingly large.  “Wanna go have drinks with me?” 

Soobin squints. He reaches out to touch his face. “Taehyun? Is that you?” 

Taehyun leans out of his reach, clearing his throat. “Yeah. Now go shower and get dressed. Let’s have some drinks.”

“How did you get in?” Soobin asks. 

“I let him in,” Kai says. 

Soobin looks over Taehyun’s shoulder. “You’re back?” 

“Yes, I am. Now please get out.” Kai grabs Soobin’s hand and pulls him to his feet. “Go.” 

Soobin is afraid to see the water bill after he’s done, but he does feel fresh, so he counts it as a plus. Maybe it was even worth it. He’ll have to appease Kai after this, though. He hopes egg tarts can get him out of this. 

Taehyun is already standing with his coat. He throws it in Soobin’s face before kicking him out the door. 

Soobin turns to Kai with pleading eyes. “Wait what about–” 

“Nope.” Kai sits down at his desk, waving without looking at them. “Have fun you two!” 

They don’t go far. Taehyun is a man of many words, most of them incomprehensible to Soobin. It’s not exactly like he’s listening either. His brain feels like mush, with one single thought running through it, Yeonjun’s name on loop. He remembers walking these streets with Yeonjun. It was that day Yeonjun decided to wear his glittery hair clips, the ones that spelt out lover . Soobin wants to cry. 

Taehyun shakes his head, slapping Soobin on the back. “None of that!” 

Soobin yelps, rubbing his shoulder. However, Taehyun drags him into the first bar they see and sits down somewhere in the corner. From then on, the alcohol keeps coming. Soobin finds his senses fuzzing up, and Taehyun keeps pouring, talking about everything. 

Soobin rests his chin on his hands, nodding along to whatever leaves Taehyun’s lips. He appreciates it, having Taehyun take him out to cheer him up, but there’s an inkling of suspicion he might not be doing this for Soobin only. 

“I was gonna make it big, you know?” Taehyun pours them both another shot of soju. Soobin hazily clinks their glasses, watching Taehyun down the shot in one go. He hisses. “I was gonna make it, but then this stupid accident just got me chucked off the team. All because of a chronic sprain. I’m done for, Soobin. My life is over.” 

Soobin shakes his head, entirely missing Taehyun’s shoulder when he pats it for comfort. His palm splats on the table, right into their dried squid. Instead of mourning, Soobin picks one up, pointing it at Taehyun. “It’s gonna be alright, Taehyun. It will be.” 

“How, Soobin? How will it be alright?” Taehyun leans forward, snatching the squid with his teeth. He chews on it. “What is my future?” 

“I don’t know…” Soobin sighs. “Do… Do you still speak to Yeonjun?” 

Taehyun frowns. “Huh? Now that I think of it, no. No, I don’t.” 

“Oh.” 

“Fuck, man.” Soobin pours himself another shot. He hisses, but doesn’t elaborate. He takes a piece of dried squid, too, keeping it between his teeth. 

They order another round before they finally head out. Taehyun can barely see the amount on his bills when he slams them down. The lady kindly tries to tell him she needs a 10.000, not a 1000. It takes a while for Taehyun to understand her, but they get there eventually. Soobin cheers for him when he finally gets it. 

They take the long way home, not by choice but because they have no idea where the fuck they are headed to. They found a convenience store on the way, however. Soobin wonders if the popsicle is good or if he’s just drunk. He thinks it’s the latter; he doesn’t usually like popsicles. 

“Say, Taehyun,” Soobin clumsily sways his arm around Taehyun’s neck. “What if we both enrolled for an education degree?” 

Taehyun peers at him through bleary eyes. “Huh?”

“You could keep doing sports and I could actually do shit with my degree. What do you say?” 

“But that’s gonna take a while.” 

“No, no, we can do the speedy version.” 

Taehyun nods slowly, head rolling to the side. He snaps his fingers. “You piece of shit, there’s brains in your head after all.” 

He then hunches over someone’s gate, spilling the contents of his stomach. Soobin covers his mouth, brows furrowed. He rubs Taehyun’s back. It’s the least he can do. 

The next morning Soobin drags himself to uni with a pounding headache and two looming deadlines. Essays won’t write themselves and Soobin really got to stop locking himself up. He’s lost most of his brain capacity watching bad movies consecutively. 

He got his set up ready in the library, ready to work. He’s somewhere halfway an analysis of Hard Times – which honestly had been a fight to get through. He and Dickens were not friends. They would never be – when chair legs scrape over the floor. 

Soobin looks up at Taehyun, who looks one inch removed from a grave, hair sticking in wild directions and his eyes red. He closes them, clutching his stomach and head. 

Soobin raises a brow. “You good?” 

Taehyun clears his throat, sniffs and presses his fingertips together. He looks straight ahead of him as he says, “So, uh, were you serious about that… speedy version thing.” 

“Oh… Oh my god.” Images flash through Soobin’s mind. The hug, the tears, Taehyun vomiting into a stranger’s flower pot. He scratches his neck. “Well, I mean. If you’re up for it…” 

Taehyun shrugs, rubbing his nose. “I mean, if you’re going, I’m going.” 

“We… Uh, yeah we could go, uh, sign up,” Soobin points over his shoulder, “right now.” 

“Cool.” Taehyun nods. 

“Fantastic.” 

Soobin slides into the seat next to Kai, poking Kai’s cheek. Kai doesn’t respond. Soobin pokes him again.

Kai removes his headphones, eyes narrowed. “What?”

Soobin scratches behind his ear. “So… Kai, uhm. I’m gonna be staying out late for Monday, Thursday and Friday evenings. For the entire year.” 

Kai blinks, nods, then motions for Soobin to come closer. Soobin complies. As if sharing a secret, Kai says, “Fess up. I know it’s not for a social life.” 

“I’m taking night classes in…” The last part comes out muddled, Soobin diverting his gaze and muttering at his feet. 

Kai blinks slowly. He rips his attention away from Super Mario to pull up his nose at Soobin. “Please repeat.” Soobin mumbles his response again. Kai rolls his eyes. “Speak up, bitch.”

“I’m getting my education degree! God!” Soobin throws his arms up, punching the air a few times before falling face forward onto their shared couch. He kicks his feet, flipping over like a stranded fish. He then takes a pillow, presses it to his face and screams. 

Kai cringes at how loud he is. He looks around, to see if someone is going to pop around a corner to scream how this was all a joke for some prank. It stays eerily still, except for Soobin having a breakdown right next to him. 

Coughing, Kai sets his controller aside, patting Soobin on the back. “Uhm, congrats?” 

Soobin flops again, letting out a cry. 

Kai jolts back. “Retracting the congratulations?” 

“This is horrible,” Soobin groans into the pillows. 

“My condolences.” 

“At least I’m going down with Taehyun.” 

Kai freezes. “How dare you drag him into this.” 

“He brought this upon himself,” Soobin says. “He even reminded me about it today. Didn’t think he’d remember it with how much he drank.”  

“You’re a horrible man, Choi Soobin.” Kai shakes his head. 

“What did I even do?!” Soobin yells. 

Kai holds up his hand, looking Soobin straight in the eyes. Soobin looks at him, confused. However, Kai shakes his head, closing his hand. “Hush.” 

Soobin’s eyes are falling closed. He doesn’t mean to, but after spending two years working for a degree that’s next to a joke, following a lecture along with people who are actually serious about their education is not something he’s conditioned for. But he is also serious! He’s got his notebook out and his pen, bent over to scribble down whatever the lecturer is telling him. Something about how to keep kids in check. 

Taehyun, who practically hasn’t ever been to a class and who used sports to get out of them, seems to be having a worse time. His jaws clench, trying to keep in a yawn. He’s squinting at the board like he’s trying to summon the knowledge with telekinesis. 

“This class is so fucking boring,” he mutters.  

“Shh, Taehyun, I’m taking notes,” Soobin shushes him.  

Taehyun peaks at Soobin’s desk. He hums, impressed. “Let me borrow them.” 

Soobin rolls his eyes. “At least try.” 

Taehyun sinks back in his seat, crossing his arms. “Be honest, you’re just here because of Yeonjun.” 

“Gasp!” Soobin crosses his hands over his chest. The lecturer sends them a nasty look. Soobin looks down, lips pursed. “Taehyun, how could you say that?” 

“Am I right?” Taehyun asks, voice quiet. His eyes are trailing the lecturer’s movements. 

They should’ve sat more at the back, really, but Soobin was passionate about this decision 37 minutes ago, so here they were, all the way at the front. He’s still taking notes, and Taehyun hums, impressed. 

“Yeah, you are,” Soobin mumbles, when the lecturer fights to get the board down.  

Taehyun smirks. “See?” 

Night classes are a major throw off to Soobin’s schedule. His sleeping has never been this inconsistent. He was never an afternoon napper, but it seems those 30 minutes in the afternoon are what power him through the evening. 

He’s never been so happy to see his building appear in sight, however. He speeds up for the last few meters, jumping off his bicycle. He adjusts the bag on his shoulder, so he can pull out the chain for it. However, he drops them. 

Cursing, he leans down. His head knocks into something. He groans, falling back. He clutches his skull. 

“Oh, fuck, I’m so sorry!” 

Soobin’s eyes widen. His head snaps up. He thought he was just hearing things, maybe he’d finally gone crazy. Maybe he really is, seeing things that aren't there, hearing voices from his memory. 

“Yeonjun?” he asks, still. 

“I… Soobin. Hi.” Yeonjun looks at his shoes. His hair is no longer cotton candy pink, instead drowned in a soft aquamarine. He’s wearing a checkered flannel in the colors of the rainbow, ripped jeans over combat boots. 

Soobin’s heart trembles with his voice. He slowly gets up, though never breaks eye contact. “What are you doing here?” 

Yeonjun is rocky on his feet, bouncing around, knees weak. He picks at the button holes in his sleeve. “I just wanted… I was wrong, Soobin. I should’ve tried harder to make time for you. You were doing your best to be there and I just gave you… radio silence. I was just afraid of what the distance was gonna do to us, and well, I pushed you away. Uhm, yeah. I’m really sorry, but I–” 

He sucks in a shaky breath, painting his face with an equally unsteady smile. “I don’t want to lose you Soobin. I don’t want to lose us. I’ll try harder.” 

“You came all the way here for me?” Soobin blinks away the pressure behind his eyes. 

“I– Yeah. Yeah, I did. I guess I did, huh?” Yeonjun lets out a laugh, bittersweet but oh so welcome. 

There are a million different feelings running through Soobin’s veins, so many thoughts clouding his mind. He wraps his arms around Yeonjun’s waist, pulling him into him. His nose twitches, pressure building up behind his eyes. He buries his face in Yeonjun’s neck. 

He can feel Yeonjun stiffening up. “Soob? Soobin baby?” 

Soobin shakes his head, nuzzling against Yeonjun’s skin, holding onto him tighter. 

Yeonjun inhales shakily, hands slowly traveling up to rub Soobin’s back. “Oh, don’t cry, baby. I’m here, yeah? We’ll work this out.” 

‘Don’t cry’ is usually the phrase that gets Soobin to fall apart. He’s already sniffling when Yeonjun cups the back of his head, running his fingers through his hair, shushing him softly. 

“I missed you,” Soobin murmurs, hand curling into Yeonjun’s shirt. 

“I missed you too,” Yeonjun whispers. “So much. I’m so sorry.” 

Soobin shakes his head. “No sorries. We can talk about it later.” 

‘Later’ is late at night, locked up in Soobin’s room, their limbs intertwined and their lips swollen. 

Soobin tucks a blue strand behind Yeonjun’s ear. “So.” 

Yeonjun’s face is nothing but shadows in the low light, but Soobin can still see his eyes. Those same eyes who could see the beauty in everything, saw it in multicolor and wanted everyone else to see it too. 

“So,” Yeonjun echoes.  

“What’s going on in your life?” Soobin is aware of just how lame the question is. It feels stupid to ask, when they’re people with a shared history. 

Yeonjun indulges him anyway. He runs circles on Soobin’s chest. “Well, work, mostly. Like, a lot of work. Work is a lot.” 

“Oh…” 

“Hey, no.” Yeonjun cups Soobin’s cheek, giving Soobin another kiss. “No feeling bad.” 

“But I do feel bad,” Soobin says. 

Yeonjun shakes his head, laying his finger against Soobin’s lips. “No need for that, okay? Tell me about you?” 

Soobin, honest to god, doesn’t know where to begin. A lot has happened, yet it feels like he’s been stuck in a stagnant this entire time. He’s moved forward, while staying stuck in the exact same spot. 

“Well, uh, still doing my silly literature things,” is what he starts with. “Uhm, started watching some rom-coms. She’s All That is a horrible movie and I hate everything about it.” 

“You gotta give it a chance!” Yeonjun slaps his chest. “You’re too quick to judge. Not everything is some fancy, old movie.” 

“I did and I’ve decided it deserves nothing.” 

“Ruthless.” 

Soobin chuckles, pecking Yeonjun’s forehead. He then continues. “Hm, I also started, uhm, my course in education. If I keep it up, I could get my degree next year.” 

Yeonjun’s eyes double in size. “You…?”

“Yeah, I was missing you that much.” Soobin chuckles. “But, well, at least Taehyun’s with me.” 

“He’s taking the course with you?!” Yeonjun’s eyes grow even bigger, against all expectations. Soobin fears they might fall from their sockets. 

Soobin nods. “Yep, to become a PE teacher. He got injured–”

“And couldn’t make it to nationals,” Yeonjun finishes for him. He sighs, snuggling closer to Soobin. “Yeah, I know. He told me every time he got drunk.” 

“Poor guy.” 

Yeonjun hums in agreement. "So, I'm assuming he got drunk with you?"

“Yeah. He told me after we a few shots. We also signed up for that course after that night out. Also, Taehyun threw up in a stranger’s flower pot.”

Yeonjun shoots up. “He did not! What the hell, Soobin. How did that happen?!” 

“A few drinks too many.” Soobin runs his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair, just as they had done before they’d been apart. “What made you change your mind?”

Yeonjun sits up, throwing his legs over the edge of the bed. He has his back turned to Soobin, hands beneath his thighs. He doesn’t think he can face Soobin, not when telling this. 

“My eyes fell on your gift. It was just there, catching dust, to be honest. But then, well, I don’t know why, but I decided to rewatch it. And I realized. I don’t want to lose you, Soobin. I’d regret it every day if I did.” Yeonjun looks down. “At least, I hope I didn’t.” 

Soobin blinks at him. The blank look on his face makes Yeonjun squirm, trying to figure out what the hell is going on in his mind. It’s always been quite hard with Soobin, especially since Yeonjun isn’t the best at reading people. Soobin is a steady current, but he’s unpredictable, too; it’s never certain what’s going on in his head and what idiotic idea he’d put his mind to. 

Yeonjun sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, diverting his gaze. “I’m too late, aren’t I?” 

However, two arms wrap themselves around him. With a jolt, he’s pulled to Soobin’s chest. Soobin holds him so tightly he’s afraid to move, afraid to break out of Soobin’s warmth. He has missed it long enough; he doesn’t want to spend a lifetime without it. 

“You didn’t lose me,” Soobin murmurs. “I’m sturdier than that.” 

With timid precision, Yeonjun snakes his hold around Soobin, too, hands resting just below his ribs. It’s familiar, like coming home after being lost. He buries his nose in the crook of Soobin’s neck, inhaling his scent. He still smells like vanilla, probably a loyal customer of the honey shampoo-slash-body wash. 

They stay like that for a while, strangers passing them by in flurries, fading through the scene as they remain a still frame. Soobin’s heart thumps like a steady force. Yeonjun lets it reverberate through him, hoping to fall into sync with it, just as quickly as Soobin had fallen into his life. 

“Will we get through this?” Yeonjun asks.

Soobin’s fingers curl into Yeonjun’s hair. “We will. Of course we will.” 

They work through it slowly. Yeonjun spends the rest of his weekend with Soobin, hanging out at Soobin’s place while Kai is off with Taehyun. The moment they return, Yeonjun is tackled in a hug – though he’s pretty sure it wasn’t meant as such. 

He pats Taehyun’s arm, panic in his eyes. “Taeh– Taehyun, please, let me breathe.” 

“You fucker! How could you ghost us all like that!” Taehyun exclaims, but he listens. 

Yeonjun wheezes, coughing. He rubs his neck, trying to catch his breath. “Sorry,” he croaks out. 

Taehyun sticks up his nose, pouting. “Do you know what Soobin has put me through because of you?!”

“Huh?” 

“Nothing! Nothing, nothing.” Soobin jumps up, right in between them. Yeonjun has to maneuver around him to see Taehyun. Soobin takes a step into his line of sight. “Drinks, anyone?” 

They invite Beomgyu over, someone Soobin also hasn’t seen in forever. His reaction is more extreme than Taehyun’s.  He tackles Yeonjun to the floor, wrapping his hands around his neck, shaking him apart, yelling with tears running down his cheeks. Yeonjun worries for whoever gets him as their mind healer. 

However, the fit is over as quickly as it started. Kai and Beomgyu formally meet for the first time, and they immediately hit it off. It might be the alcohol in their system helping them, or Taehyun seated in between them. 

As the night falls into silence, Soobin and Yeonjun sneak into his room, laying in each other’s arms until they fall into slumber. It feels safe, like it should’ve always been this way. Like it never really ended. 

Soobin starts spending his weekends in Seoul, sleeping in Yeonjun’s way too small bed, huddled together. Yeonjun shows him all the best spots and all the secret restaurants he’d discovered. They eat out there, before heading back to Yeonjun’s apartment. His housemate wasn’t the best, but when together they can block him out. 

The radio buzzes softly, Amy Grant’s Baby, Baby humming along with them. 

“I’m sorry for everything,” Yeonjun mumbles against Soobin’s collarbone, drawing circles on Soobin’s bare chest. 

Soobin runs his fingers through Yeonjun’s hair, bright red now. The color was so strong it had stained his sheets the first time after dyeing it. “You don’t have to apologize anymore, baby.” 

“Hm, but I do. I’m sorry for cutting you off like that,” Yeonjun says. He sighs. “I didn’t even give you my address. I made it so much harder than it should have been. I suppose I was just afraid?” 

“Afraid of what?” 

“That our lives would be too far apart.” 

Pressing a kiss to Yeonjun’s forehead, Soobin says, “Well, the distance is scary. I was scared, too, you know? I was really scared you’d find new guys. Cooler guys. Older guys with stable jobs and lives. Why would you settle for me?” 

“Because you’re you.” Yeonjun pushes himself up, turning to face Soobin. He pecks his lips. “You’re you, and I love you.” 

“Cheesy.” 

“It’s the truth.” 

“And that’s the end,” Yeonjun concludes. 

Sunghee raises her hand. She doesn’t wait for her name to be called. “So? Are you still with him? Are you two still together?” 

“So full of questions about my personal life.” Yeonjun crosses his arms. “Wish you were like that in class too.” 

Sunghee turns beet red. The bell rings, announcing the end of Yeonjun’s day. 

“Well, that’s it, guys,” he says. “Hope it gave you enough energy to get through your projects. If you have worked during class, you can come to me or just lay it in the drying rack immediately.” 

He starts packing up as the students filter through the doors. He hums to himself, skipping down the stairs. He says goodbye to the colleagues he runs into, wishing them a great night. Sometimes he hangs around to chat them up, but today he’s speed-walking out of the building. 

He scans the parking lot until he spots him. His face breaks out into a grin and he bunches up his skirt, running. He throws himself into Soobin’s arms, letting the man pick him up and spin him around. 

Once he’s back on the ground, Yeonjun presses a kiss to his lips. It takes a few seconds before they break apart, both with matching silly grins. 

“Missed me?” Soobin asks. 

Yeonjun giggles. “Always, baby.”

Soobin pushes a stray strand behind Yeonjun’s ear, finally back to its natural black. He looks beautiful in any color he picks, but black has a delicate softness to it. “So, love, what did you do today?”

Yeonjun snuggles into Soobin’s neck. “Hm, told the kids about my first love.”

“Your first love?” 

“Hm, yeah… He ran me over with a bicycle.”

Soobin rolls his eyes. “That’s an exaggeration. I barely hit you.”

“The attempt was there!” Yeonjun shakes his head, running his fingers up Soobin’s chest. “But that’s okay, because it makes a good story. The kids were intrigued, very interested if I was still with him.”

“Are you?” 

“Glad to announce that I am.” 

Soobin pulls Yeonjun closer to him, pecking his forehead and then pressing his nose. “Let’s go home. I’ll cook.” 

“Absolutely not!”  

Soobin shoves him lightly. “With your help.” 

Yeonjun narrows his eyes in thought, then pats Soobin’s cheek. “That I can go with.” 

They’re in bliss, moving like they’re the only ones in the world, the center of a movie scene. Perhaps they are, in a sense. 

Sunghee stares after the pair with her jaw to the floor. She grabs Chaeyoung’s hand. “Holy shit, Chae, love is real.”

Chaeyoung looks at her, eyes shining. “Sure is.”