Archive of Our Own

It is approximately eighteen minutes into an ordinary Thursday afternoon when Kim Daeyoung slides into the booth opposite Yushi.

Yushi has only read a good chunk of the text on a research paper – counting the one he skimmed through on commute, it totals to a whole paper and three paragraphs – and his eyes are growing weary. Even the white latte with an extra shot of espresso isn’t kickstarting his brain as intended.

Thursdays are meant to be slow. Thursday is the only day where he has two classes in the morning and he’s free as a bird for the rest of the afternoon. Thursday is the day where he likes to cut himself a bit of slack by going to the nearest coffee shop and having alone time up until his friends join him nearing to the evening.

Thursday is not a day where Daeyoung would pop up in Yushi’s afternoon.

He appears hurried, his freshly dyed light brown hair mussed from the wind outside. Yushi cocks an eyebrow, waiting, as Daeyoung remains occupied, fixing the sleeves of his grey cardigan. After a few seconds, Yushi decides to clear his throat, capturing Daeyoung’s attention effectively as his head snaps up, his eyes locking onto Yushi’s.

“Right. I need your help.” Daeyoung says.

Yushi’s eyebrow hikes up further. “Hi. Hello? How are you? It’s been a while and you look nice?” he answers sarcastically.

Something glitters in Daeyoung’s eyes and he casts a sweeping look over Yushi intentionally. Yushi fidgets in his seat at the blatant look-over. “You look nicer. Been into working out lately?”

Yushi tries to run in the evenings when he can and has a few weights by his bedside but that’s beside the point. Huffing, he crosses his arms over his chest. Daeyoung’s gaze flits to his crossed arms and all too consciously, Yushi feels the flare of a flush travelling upwards his neck.

“Shut up. What do you need?”

Daeyoung chooses to lean in, the edge of the table digging into his torso, and his minty breath ghosts over Yushi’s cheek for a split second before moving to his ear. It tickles but Yushi stays rigid, tensing as Daeyoung chuckles. Likely over the sudden rigidity of Yushi’s stance. Idiot.

“Do you think we’d look good together?”

Yushi flinches backwards, nearly hitting the back of his head against the wooden booth. His voice comes out shrilly, “What?”

Daeyoung looks unperturbed. If anything, he looks even more delighted at the distress emanating off Yushi. The corner of his lips twitches upwards, highlighting his handsome smirk. Yushi feels ill.

“I asked, because I need your help in fooling my family over dinner this weekend.” He is still stubbornly leaning over the table. With the small distance Yushi had forced between them, he feels caged against the booth. Daeyoung smirks. “You’re the person that comes to mind.”

“I am not an actor! What the fuck?” Yushi splutters. “Are you suggesting to fake date in front of your folks?”

Daeyoung shrugs. “That’s the gist, yeah.”

“You’re mental,” Yushi breathes. A million questions run through his head but what leaves his mouth is: “Why are you asking me?”

It’s Daeyoung’s turn to look confused, raising an eyebrow. “Why not?”

Yushi gives Daeyoung an odd look, slightly crazed at the crinkles of his eyes, slightly desperate for normalcy. “Daeyoung. We are not friends.”

“Oh.” Daeyoung returns back to his seat, slumping back. His gaze has averted to the puddle of condensation surrounding Yushi’s coffee.

Yushi rushes on to clarify, feeling a weird prick at his heart at the stormy expression clouding Daeyoung’s features. He’s always gorgeous, smiley and charming at all times of the day. This is decidedly foreign to him. Everything about this encounter is foreign.

“I mean, we hardly talk. I only hear about you from Riku and we hang out in huge gatherings. We’ve never—” Yushi inhales deeply, his heart constricting even further. It’s a very strange feeling and he’s at a loss. “We’ve never properly gotten to know each other. I wouldn’t know how to pull this off even with someone I call a close friend.”

“Then, date me for real.”

Yushi blinks. “What?”

Daeyoung glances up and locks gazes with him. The stormy expression has faded and lifted to cast way for a hopeful expression which leaves Yushi even more at a loss. In his years of knowing the former through his friends and word of mouth, this is the closest he’s ever been to him. Besides the one time he helped to open a beer can for him. Everything they do is surrounded by multiple witnesses, everything he knows of Daeyoung is a fact picked out of someone else’s mind.

“Would it be so terrible?” Daeyoung asks. “It’s only for a dinner. I promise.”

Yushi’s voice grows weak. “Is… uh… Is Riku not available or something?”

Daeyoung chuckles, “My family knows Riku too well. It’d be a risk.”

The request makes more sense then – Yushi is someone unfamiliar and a wild card that Daeyoung’s family wouldn’t be able to figure out in a single dinner. “I see,” Yushi replies. The knobs in his head are turning, turning, turning and– “Okay.”

Daeyoung blinks once. Twice. Tilts his head. “Okay?”

“Yeah, alright. I’ll be your dinner date.” Yushi fishes around for his phone and pulls it out, tapping a few times on the screen. A new contact pulls up and he holds it out to Daeyoung whom looks at it strangely. “Your number, so that we can text about it later.”

Daeyoung scoffs, waving it away. “I’ll text you. I have your number saved.”

“Ah.” Yushi doesn’t know what to say to that. He’s not the best at saving contacts. Daeyoung is probably swimming around in that group chat with his friends, still stubbornly unsaved.

Daeyoung smiles at him then. No traces of amusement, no mischief. Just purely a small, sweet smile that has Yushi pausing. “Thank you.”

Yushi merely nods, still at a loss, still perplexed at what he’s agreed to. “No problem…?”

“I’ll leave you alone now.” Daeyoung grabs his phone that he’s left on the table and is halfway out of the booth when Yushi stops him, a delicate hand on his forearm. Daeyoung glances down at Yushi’s hand and casts him a look of confusion. Yushi clears his throat, pulling back, the shyness flooding his being all of a sudden.

“You can stay… I’m just reading research papers.”

“Are you sure?” Daeyoung asks, but now, he appears curious, looking over the papers in front of Yushi.

“Yeah. I’m sure. We should get to know each other anyway.” Yushi is already raising his hand to call over a waiter to take an order. “Might as well get a drink too.”

The smile that Daeyoung flashes him is far too pretty for his quickening heart. Far too lethal. Yushi ignores however and looks away.

Naturally, the next course of action is oversharing the encounter to Riku.

Riku has his head deep in their washing machine and almost bumps his head on the way out to shoot Yushi a nonplussed expression. “Please repeat what you said. I think the machine muffled your words.”

Yushi refrains from rolling his eyes. “Daeyoung asked me to be his fake date to a family dinner this weekend.”

“You do realise that is in two days? The weekend is two days away. One and a half, to be exact.” When Yushi merely shrugs in response, Riku groans and closes his eyes as his forehead thumps against the door of the washing machine. “You’re causing my youthful heart way too much stress. First, the washing machine and now your gay panic.”

Their washing machine is in a state of disarray but it is not due to Yushi as much as Riku insists. It’s been on the decline for a week now and it has completely given up on Riku this evening when he had planned to load a week’s worth of clothes. It sputtered, it whined and finally, it let out a wheedling noise that didn’t fare well for the both of them. This machine lived here longer than they both do, thus this means calling in their landlord and facing the music.

“The washing machine is not my fault,” Yushi says, huffing. “And what do you mean by gay panic? What gay panic?” Riku passes him an unimpressed look but Yushi insists. “What do you even say in that situation?”

“I don’t know. Maybe no?” Riku sighs, clearly giving up as he falls back on his ass and leans on his elbows. Yushi joins him on the kitchen floor, Riku lulls his neck around to stare at him. It’s one of those inquisitive stares that he likes to set off on Yushi when he’s trying to determine something. Yushi does not enjoy it a tad bit.

Yushi’s gaze trails off elsewhere, remembering the afternoon spent with Daeyoung. What Yushi decided to omit is that Daeyoung remained for the rest of the afternoon, accompanying Yushi as he continued to do his work. If he was productive was a different story entirely. The next two hours were spent with him humming along while Daeyoung recounted story after story. Yushi learnt a lot about a boy that he had only thought in passing.

Things such as his gummy smile when Daeyoung laughs, widely stretched till Yushi can see his canines, so genuine till his eyes are crinkled and Yushi does not know what to do with that – his humour is usually reserved for close friends and even so, it’s dry and sadistic. Daeyoung seems like the type of person to stick out in a crowd, to be the one making others laugh and smile fondly at the things he says, and the type of person that leaves you with a lingering sense of closeness that keeps you warm throughout.

It felt like being in the face of the sun. Yushi has only known of him from Riku and what he’s heard is enough for him to deduce that they will likely only remain as acquaintances. It’s hard enough to be in the group chat that Riku dragged him into.

“It felt sensible to agree in the moment,” Yushi replies. Then, he winces, realising belatedly how dumb he sounds.

Riku does not waste a single second to raise an eyebrow at him, his expression shifting into one of disbelief. ‘You’ve never had trouble turning others down,” he reminds Yushi. “How is Daeyoung the one person to break that streak?”

Yushi chooses to not answer that and instead, he leans forward to poke his head into the washing machine. Murmuring under his breath, “We might have to tell the landlord about this.”

It is out of his limitless patience that Riku presses down the undeniable urge to question Yushi further on these antics and instead, crawls forward on his knees to join him. They both peek into the broken washing machine, looking upon it cluelessly.

“If we looked a bit pitiful, the landlord might replace it for us,” Riku suggests.

Yushi chuckles, pulling away and getting up to his feet. It’s nearly time for dinner and they have yet to make anything, not that they are fantastic cooks. Noodles might have to do. “We are two college students, barely making rent with our part-time jobs. How more pitiful can we be?”

The morning splits through his dreams with the familiar ring of the alarm. Rolling over, Yushi mindlessly slams his hand around for his phone before nearly dropping it and clutching onto it. He squints at the lit-up screen and slides across to shut the alarm off. It is only seven in the morning, and Yushi recalls the class he’s meant to be at in half an hour.

Groaning, his back turns flat against the sheets and the urge to skip courses through impulsively. Yushi entertains the thought for a few seconds and gets up. After his shower, he returns to notifications piling up on his phone screen. Yushi unlocks his phone to find a series of texts from an unknown number. As he reads, a flush naturally creeps upwards and he scoffs, already fairing a guess.

Unknown (010-6799-5050):
morning sweetheart
oh right u dont have my number saved do u?
hehehehe guess who i am

Messi1004:
ure not very slick u know

Yushi types swiftly on his screen and saves the unknown number as ‘Daeng’. He hesitates, finger hovering over the puppy emoticon, and finally settles on clicking it.

Daeng🐶:
oho! U saved my number
do u like messi? ;)

Yushi laughs, shaking his head slightly at the silliness. He ignores his phone for a bit, slipping on his shoes, but the phone vibrates once again in his backpocket, demanding attention.

Daeng🐶:
leaving me on read? Ill try harder then
what r u up to today, sweetheart?

Messi1004:
i was wearing shoes u idiot
my plan is ignoring u

Daeng🐶:
thats not very nice and boyfriend of u…

The text has Yushi stumbling on his two feet and nearly planting his face into the concrete ground. A passerby pauses in their tracks while walking their dog to shoot him a concerned look but Yushi just steadies himself and smiles assuringly at the stranger before cursing underneath his breath.

Messi1004:
stop that

Daeng🐶:
aw why
did my boyfriend blush?

Yushi has half a mind to reach into his phone to strangle Daeyoung on the other end. Rubbing a hand down his face in mere distress, he types furiously across his screen in reply.

Messi1004:
what bf do u speak of.
also what do u really want

Daeng🐶:
you

Messi1004:
can u… be normal?

Daeng🐶:
i am!
ok truthfully i am curious cause i want to ask u out later
do u have classes in the afternoon?

Truthfully, Yushi’s classes end by one in the afternoon and he has a job to get to by three. The hour in between is usually spent cramming a quick bite and the commute to the record store takes fifteen minutes from campus. He relays it on text to Daeyoung.

Messi1004:
but u can meet me after or smtg i end at 9

Daeng🐶:
can i accompany u at the store

Blinking down at his phone, Yushi pokes his tongue into his cheek in consideration. It’s not like it has never been done before – Riku and Sakuya have stayed around until closing to walk home with him. Sometimes, they grab an early supper. Daeyoung is none of these people, Daeyoung is almost no one to him. There should be no reason for Yushi to agree except he already did and now, he has to keep his end of the deal by making time to prove that the pretence will be believable.

Messi1004:
if only u behave

Daeng🐶:
oh u can tame me sweetheart

Messi1004:
stop that
im heading to class now
we can meet near the west library at 1:15

Daeng🐶:
roger that boyfriend x

And if Yushi turns up to class with a tomato reddened face and sweaty palms, it’s really not due to Daeyoung and his overusage of terms of endearment. Really, it isn’t. Who is Daeyoung anyway to have such an effect on him? 

“Boo.”

Yushi doesn’t startle as intended, he merely dusts imaginary lint off his cream trousers and glances upwards. “You’re late.”

Daeyoung smiles, holding a hand out. His fingers are curled around a takeaway coffee cup. Yushi takes it tentatively. “I had good reason,” he explains as Yushi sips from the cup and is met with a burst of milky matcha goodness. “Riku mentioned your penchant for matcha lattes.”

“Yeah,” Yushi exhales. “Thanks.” He eyes the cup in Daeyoung’s other hand, gesturing to it. “What’s yours?”

The liquid sloshes around in the cup as Daeyoung tilts the cup towards Yushi. “It’s an iced Americano.” Automatically, Yushi scrunches his nose up – Daeyoung notices and chuckles. “Not your thing?”

Yushi clutches the matcha closer to him and shakes his head. “I never understood the trend.” 

Ever since he moved to Seoul to study, he realised quickly that he had been spoilt back at home with good matcha being accessible anywhere in the city. Seoul has only begun to catch up on adding matcha to their cafes but he has yet to find one that fits perfectly to his taste. The one that Daeyoung bought for him is decent enough, Yushi sips on it steadily. 

Daeyoung chuckles again and takes a long sip. “It’s not my thing either but I do require the caffeine.”

His eyebrows furrow as Yushi turns to face him. They’ve fallen into step together but now Daeyoung is two steps ahead while Yushi skids to a stop to ask, “You didn’t sleep well last night?”

“Why? Are you worried about me, boyfriend?” Daeyoung teases and Yushi’s frown deepens because of an entirely different reason. Daeyoung smiles, but upon closer inspection, Yushi is able to discern the wisps of exhaustion at the corners of his eyes, the softened mouth, the poor posture. “I slept a little later than usual.”

Yushi hums and walks towards him, raising a hand to pinch the apple of Daeyoung’s cheek. It’s a gesture he does to Sakuya all the time when he’s sleepy and being a baby around him, too soft and tired to fight off Yushi’s rare affections. It’s a gesture only meant for Sakuya because he is comfortable enough with him, so when he pinches Daeyoung’s cheek, the widening of Daeyoung’s eyes freezes him in place. Icy cold realisation pours over Yushi and he flinches back, his hand falling to his sides.

There is a reddened mark on Daeyoung’s cheek where Yushi had touched, accompanied with a flush slowly crawling up to flood his cheeks with colour. Pretty, the unbidden thought speaks in Yushi’s mind, and he is once again compelled by the urge to touch Daeyoung but he tightens his fists instead and focuses his stare on a spot beyond Daeyoung’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” Yushi ends up saying. “I, uh.. I do that sometimes to Saku. Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

Daeyoung lets out an awkward laugh, Yushi’s gaze snaps back to see him rubbing his nape. His face is entirely red now, up till the tips of his ears. It’s a sight to behold, a sight that Yushi is beginning to be captivated by. 

“It’s alright. In order for the fake dating to work, I suppose you do have to act comfortably around me.”

“Speaking of…” Yushi nibbles on his bottom lip, thinking. “You are sure you want me to help you?”

The thought of seeing Daeyoung had consumed him the entire morning – butterflies swarming in the pit of his stomach. Since yesterday at the coffee shop, he keeps seeing snapshots of Daeyoung sitting across him, voice soft as he recounts details of his childhood home and how he loved climbing the one massive tree in the backyard. The glimmer of childlike innocent brightened in Daeyoung’s eyes and Yushi couldn't stop thinking about him.

“Cold feet, sweetheart?” Daeyoung teases. Yushi raises a hand threateningly and it dissolves the former into a fit of laughter. Daeyoung, as Yushi learnt, gets easily amused. “Yes, I am sure I want you to be my boyfriend this weekend.”

Yushi ignores the skip of his heartbeat at the words casually uttered by the taller boy. “Alright,” he concedes. “What kind of partner does your family know you as?”

“Mm, they've not seen me with someone else before but I am known to be affectionate and clingy.” Daeyoung says. “I like the idea of taking care of my partner.”

Again, ignoring his skipping heartbeat. It must be the caffeine from the matcha affecting him this way. Yushi hums along, curious. “You've never brought anyone home?”

The corner of Daeyoung’s mouth twitches, endlessly amused. Yushi has half a mind to wipe that smile off his handsome face and another half to… do something utterly drastic.

“To bring someone home, I'd have to date someone.”

Yushi stops in his tracks again. He casts a glance of disbelief at Daeyoung. “Surely, you've dated before?” At Daeyoung’s shake of head, Yushi presses. “How about Sion?”

“What about him?”

Digging deep into his memories, Yushi is sure he's seen Sion around with Daeyoung. The two are practically close at the hip. “Did you not date him?”

Daeyoung blinks all owlishly before bursting into a full rounded belly laugh. Yushi stands there, surprised. “No!” he manages to choke out mid-laugh. “We are only really good friends. His father is my mother’s colleague at the bank so we spent a lot of time together.”

“That's …wow.” Yushi attempts to wrap his mind around that piece of information. For the longest time, he saw the pair as an on and off campus couple. He's pretty sure he has referred to them as such in front of Riku and the latter hadn't corrected him. “I really thought you two dated.”

“Yikes, no. Sion is way too close as an older brother to ever consider the idea.” Daeyoung makes a grimace, small mouth twisted and nose adorably scrunched up. “I'm mildly offended.”

“Why would you be? He's pretty and smart.” Yushi comments offhandedly, his mind still sifting through moments where he saw the two together and his heart had sickened at the terrible fate he's been cursed with. Funny how the universe works.

They reach the record store and Yushi pulls open the door, catching sight of his coworker at the counter.

There's an odd tone to Daeyoung's voice when he replies: “Would you date him then?”

He's not y– “No?” Yushi answers quickly. Sion has been nothing but kind to him whenever they cross paths but– “He's not exactly my type.”

Daeyoung makes a considerative hum. “And what's your type?”

Yushi is thankfully saved from answering as he redirects Daeyoung's attention to the record store. “We're here!” he exclaims a little too loudly and awkwardly gesturing to the shopfloor. He looks back at the counter where his coworker is eyeing him interestedly. “Wait here, please. I need to go in the back to clock in.”

“Alright, boyfriend.”

Yushi gives up on telling Daeyoung otherwise, only shoots him a look half-heartedly and heads to the back room.

Working part-time at the record store had been accidental – the owner is his older cousin, Mina. In the midst of helping her settle in Seoul, his parents offered him to help out with the store as a way to pass time whilst in school. Yushi admittedly doesn’t mind it, he does like spending time at the store and Mina is nice enough as a boss. She is not strict, doesn’t have any ridiculous rules and her expectations are simple enough to be met.

As Yushi goes into the back room, his coworker, Yangyang, predictably follows him and immediately turns into an investigative mood. His eyes are narrowed, “Who is that out there?”

Yushi smoothly slips past him to find his timesheet and clock in for the day despite there being still fifteen minutes to the start of his closing shift. “Hello Yangyang. Are you going to go for lunch now?”

“Answer me!” Yushi believes Yangyang nearly stomps his foot like a toddler. His arms are crossed. “I have never seen you with a boy, let alone blushing over one.”

Yushi colours on cue. “That’s a lie. You’ve seen Riku and Sakuya around.”

Yangyang waves it away. “Those are your friends.”

“Daeyoung is my friend too.”

An eyebrow hikes up at the namedrop. “Are you sure about that?”

Damn Yangyang and his intrusive nature. He is always trying to scoop something out about Yushi as the latter is quiet and keeps to himself most of the time. Yangyang is quite the opposite of that – he enjoys gossiping, making snarky jokes about customers and being an overall loud nuisance. Not that Yushi complains about it, he does enjoy the noise filling up the silence though he is rarely contributing to it.

Yushi pushes past him to reach for the name tag and fixes it neatly on his t-shirt. With his gaze casted down, he replies, “Yes and now, please don’t be weird about it. He will be staying till my shift ends.”

There’s an interesting glint in Yangyang’s eyes that Yushi doesn’t like, but he doesn’t stay to entertain that. Instead, he leaves the back room and skids to a stop a few steps forward when he sees Daeyoung.

The boy is leaning against the wall, near the section of the pop genre, and his right hand is holding a record up. From this distance, Yushi can somewhat discern a solid purple backdrop and he is able to make a few guesses on the album. 

“Big Olivia Rodrigo fan?” Yushi asks once he is nearer and it startles Daeyoung out of his reverie, previously skimming the contents of the back of the record. 

His cheeks turn slightly red and he puts the record back on the shelves. “Not really,” Daeyoung answers, clearing his throat. Yushi is suddenly eager to know what sort of music he’d be into. “I was just curious. It seems to be raved about a lot.”

Yushi can’t really attest to that – he’s more into Kpop and less informed about what’s on the radio. He does know a song or two. “What do you listen to then?”

Daeyoung hums, fingers drumming along the records, and he stops at one, pulling out something more foreign to Yushi. It’s a cover of a naked man’s back, surrounded by water that is suspiciously pink. The name curls at the back of the record – Harry Styles – and it sparks a bit of recognition for him.

“This is one of my favourite albums,” Daeyoung says. His eyes glaze over the cover with a hint of admiration. “I like singing his songs sometimes.”

Yushi knows about Daeyoung’s singing ability, has been an audience member to a few impromptu karaoke sessions at parties where he mostly lingers on the couch with Sakuya and watches Ryo, Daeyoung or sometimes, Riku attack the microphone. 

“You have a nice voice.” Yushi says earnestly and Daeyoung looks surprised, eyes widening and lips puckering in an ‘o’. It’s an amusing sight that Yushi chuckles. “Why are you surprised?”

“I didn’t know you cared.”

Yushi glances away. Truth is, Daeyoung has always seemed too far out of his reach thus every bit of information, every single moment he’s laid witness to, does remain dormant in his mind. 

“Hard to ignore when you’re extremely loud at parties.”

Daeyoung laughs, lightly hitting the side of Yushi’s arm with the record. “That’s mean, boyfriend.” Then, all of a sudden, he leans in, breath ghosting over the side of Yushi’s cheek and Yushi nearly feels his heart stop. “Stop being mean to your boyfriend.”

Yushi shoves him away and turns around. With a half-hearted glance over his shoulder, he says, “I’m going to stay at the cashier. Don’t mess up the store.”

Daeyoung comes crawling to him in the second hour after seemingly exhausted himself through the record archives. 

There’s no one in the store, only two customers have walked in since the start of Yushi’s shift. Yangyang has returned from his lunch break but he has opted to doing stocktake in the back room since it’s a slow day and Yushi is well capable of handling the store front alone.

Though, of course, he is far from alone. 

“Yushi,” Daeyoung drags out the syllables of his name in a petulant whine. It definitely is doing something but Yushi becomes a brick wall, ignoring him to stay focused on the textbook before him. Mina doesn’t mind it when the part-timers do their schoolwork on the shopfloor, especially when the store is empty. “Baby, darling, sweetheart.” Yushi turns to him, deer-like eyes in utter shock. Daeyoung laughs at the reaction and smirks softly, “Did you like any of that?”

“None. What do you want?”

Daeyoung blinks, his gaze turning mischievous. “And if I say you?”

Yushi inhales deeply. He drags out the last bit of patience he has. “Don’t be foolish.”

“I’m not! I’m serious. Also, we do need to talk about this weekend.” Daeyoung casts a glance at the textbook. “I’m sorry if I’m interrupting you.”

Right. The fake dating. Yushi closes the textbook not before marking the page with a folded corner and puts it aside. Grabbing his notebook that is filled with more doodles than actual study notes, he leans over the counter and uncaps his pen. 

With a tidy script, he drafts out the classic contract of fake dating such as, do not tell anyone about the fake dating (he has broken that yesterday but Daeyoung does not have to know), must have a solid backstory (it’s simple when they run in the same circle), no physical touch unless necessary.

Daeyoung looks over and jabs a finger at the last point. “What does necessary entail?”

“Holding hands to seem close in front of your family. That sort of thing.” Yushi explains as he taps his pen against the paper, still thinking of other points. Of course, there has to be a timeline – will only last for the weekend.

“What if I have to kiss you in front of them?”

“Sure, we can do that.” Yushi absentmindedly replies. Then, he pauses midway of writing the next point – must learn about each other enough to answer questions – and looks up to fix Daeyoung with an unimpressed look.

Daeyoung smiles brilliantly at him. “You agreed.”

“I take it back.”

Daeyoung makes a ‘tsk’ sound at him, wagging his finger in the air, Yushi realises the reddened flush has travelled upwards to the tips of his ears. Yushi wonders if he’s an exact mirror of him. “Nope. No takebacks. I have your verbal consent.”

“Why would you even want to kiss me?” Yushi accidentally blurts out.

The question catches Daeyoung off guard and to Yushi’s surprise, he turns shy, the corners of his mouth softening, eyelashes lowering. It’s bewildering. “I need to be convincing to my parents.”

For some stupid reason (surely Yushi had been knocked out somehow in his sleep last night and was awakened in a different body, different timeline), he nods mutely and turns back to the notebook.

Daeyoung sidles closer, folded arms atop the counter. The scent of freshly rained-on dew and grass wafts over Yushi, reminding him of rainy summers in Tokyo but they’re situated in the heart of Seoul, leaning over a countertop in an unassuming record store. Still, Yushi breathes in deeply, letting it linger.

“What kind of backstory do we need?” 

Yushi ponders on it. Truthfully, the idea he’s had is not too far from the truth: “I met you through Riku and we started talking. You asked me out on a date and we got together…” He trails off, mentally calculating. “Nine months ago?”

“That’s a long time.”

Yushi bristles, “Nine months isn’t that long.” He taps the tip of the pen against the paper, thinking aloud. “If we are in a long-term relationship, it’d be easier to act in front of your parents. No need for all the exaggerated acting.”

A beat of silence follows and that’s when Yushi looks up to find Daeyoung staring at him strangely. He tilts his head in question and Daeyoung finally says, “You seem to know a lot about relationships.”

Yushi presses his lips together, attempting to not blush again. “I uh,” he stammers, struggling to explain himself. There’s not much of an explanation, he just– “I just like to observe others and I’ve witnessed a lot of relationships around me.”

“Hmm. You don’t date?”

The topic is veering back to their conversation earlier and Yushi returns to fiddling with the pen. He’s only been with one person in his life but he doesn’t really count it as a relationship as he was only fifteen and it lasted for less than five months. His ex girlfriend noticed that he hadn’t been as interested as he should be and dumped him after class. It was embarrassing.

“No, I barely go out of my comfort zone.” This much is true. It takes a lot for Yushi to meet new people and if it wasn’t for Riku in his college life, he wouldn’t know what he’d do. Be a social recluse, maybe. 

Something glints in Daeyoung’s eyes. “Any crushes?”

Yushi flinches and answers a little too sharply, “No.”

“Yikes,” Daeyoung leans his cheek against his hand and watches Yushi like a hawk. It’s causing Yushi to break out into hives or something. “A pretty face like yours should be dating around.”

He’s pretty sure his face has reddened to the point of no return and he pushes away from the counter to walk the short distance to the cash register. Daeyoung laughs.

Yushi lets out a low groan, covering his hands. “You have to stop doing that to me.”

“Doing what, sweetheart?”

“That.” Yushi turns around and glares at Daeyoung’s overly confident grin. “You’re flustering me.”

Daeyoung shrugs, “You’re easy to rile up. And extremely cute.” Then, he points at the notebook. “Your last point is about getting to know each other. Shall we start on that?”

Yushi huffs. “I know enough about you.”

“Well, I want to know more about you.” Daeyoung’s reply has Yushi pausing again. Looking at him properly. This time, there is no jest in his expression. Just a smile that reaches his eyes and genuinity that Yushi doesn’t know how to deal with. He’s never known how to deal with Daeyoung, let alone fake being in love with him. “So, come here. Talk my ear off about something. Anything.”

“There’s nothing to share,” Yushi runs through a list mentally and realises there’s nothing extraordinary to share.

But Daeyoung looks at him like he holds all the secrets to the universe in his hands. Open, bright. “Surely you do. Start with why you worship Messi. Or, why did you pick your major. Oh, oh! I’ve always wanted to know the story behind your scar.” Yushi blinks, his hand automatically reaching up to touch the aforementioned scar on his cheek. “Yes, that one!”

“You’re weird,” Yushi says, feeling at a loss of words.

Daeyoung’s mouth curls prettily and Yushi is drawn into him, the peek of a dimple on his right cheek. “Tell me, please.”

Yushi doesn’t know when did he gain the inability to say no, but he goes.

“It is really pretty,” Daeyoung says afterwards when the clock is ticking towards nine and he has shown no sign of leaving Yushi in the store and going home. 

“What is?” Yushi is closing the register and is calculating the few transactions they’ve had for the day. 

A finger taps against his cheek, right below the scar. Yushi jerks backwards in shock and is greeted by a breathless laugh. Daeyoung is up in his space, face a few inches away, and Yushi is stunned.

“Your scar, silly.” 

Daeyoung’s eyes roam over his face. A slow descent from his eyes, to the scar, to the slope of his nose and further, further, to the pout of his mouth. Something grips Yushi by the throat, choking him into stillness, as Daeyoung’s gaze remains there. Unwavering. It probably lasts a few seconds. Barely. 

It feels like a millennium to Yushi anyway.

Then, his gaze is torn away and returns to meet Yushi’s evenly. 

“Ah,” is all Yushi manages to say. He clears his throat. Thinks for a bit. “Thank you?”

Daeyoung smiles, “No problem, boyfriend.”

Yushi miscalculates the balances of the day and has to redo it a second time as Daeyoung waits patiently on the other side of the counter, unperturbed. 

Daeyoung’s car is sleek, gray and modest. It's an Audi, from the looks of the logo, Yushi is not that fond of cars to recognise models but he's learnt enough to distinguish brands. 

It honks obnoxiously at him when he steps out of the building. He eyes the vehicle with narrowed suspicion as Daeyoung pokes his head out of the window, shouting at him to get in.

“No boyfriend treatment of opening the door like a gentleman?” Yushi jests when he slides into the car and nearly chokes on his saliva.

“I'm reserving all gentlemanly treatment for my folks,” Daeyoung smirks, tilting his head at him. Yushi, at a loss of words from the sight of Daeyoung in the driver’s seat, merely nods and quickly looks away to face the road.

It is a sinful sight. Yushi’s gaze betrays him and travels down Daeyoung’s torso, long, long legs, the inviting lap that is his parted thighs. He looks comfortable too, fit in a striped linen button down that accentuates his broad shoulders. The cuffs are pushed up to his elbows, showing off his veiny forearms. Yushi’s gaze lingers on the silver wristwatch, the analog clock ticking down to his further demise.

“Are you alright? You look a little nauseous.” Yushi snaps back to reality, meeting Daeyoung’s concerned face. God, he is indeed beautiful even with a little furrow between his eyebrows. The car begins moving, but Daeyoung lifts a hand off the steering wheel to plant the back of his hand against Yushi’s forehead. “You feel a bit warm.”

Yushi blinks. Attacked by both the touch and visual of Daeyoung driving with one hand, he flinches backwards till he's cornered away. “I'm fine,” he squeaks out. Tries again and clears his throat. “I'm okay. Just nervous. Haha.”

“Don’t be. My parents are harmless,” Yushi slides a glance, just to let Daeyoung know that it is not as convincing of a pep talk as he thinks it is. Fortunately, Daeyoung notices from his peripheral vision and chuckles. “Really! They are sweet and they will love you.”

Yushi does not know how to feel about that. 

“It’s still my first time.” Daeyoung did share a lot about his parents to prepare Yushi for the dinner but even with all the information overload, he still feels inadequate and out of place, like he shouldn’t be here. Yushi’s voice carries on timidly, “I don’t even know how to befriend people let alone impress parents.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Daeyoung reassures him. “My parents are nice and they will ask questions but it is not a lot to worry about, baby.”

The pet name brings forth a flush to his face and he quickly looks away to face the window in an attempt of hiding it.

“I am going to mess up,” Yushi says quietly.

“Hey,” The car suddenly stops and Yushi notices that Daeyoung has pulled up next to a pavement to park. He’s turning around in his seat and reaching for Yushi’s hand, it captures his attention in a jolt – his hand is warm, lightly calloused from driving. Daeyoung’s eyes are genuine, so sweet that Yushi feels himself falling into the trap. “You are amazing and I cannot wait to introduce you to my parents.”

Yushi wishes Daeyoung would be less generous with his words – the softness of his gaze seizes Yushi in a tighthold, keeping him hostage with the uncertain wave of emotions washing him over, and over. It is a lot for Yushi to sift through, his heart racing at a pace that he can’t keep up with, and he doesn’t know where to even begin. Daeyoung is running small circles on the back of his hand with his thumb and it’s soothing, lulling him into a sense of comfort that he’s beginning to associate with him.

It’s not that Yushi doesn’t believe Daeyoung, his words carry sincerity and that is the main matter in question: is it all just a convincing act? Though, no one is around to witness and they’re just in his car. Is it an act to convince Yushi to go along with him? Though, Yushi has already given his word to commit to the fake dating. The uncertainty keeps Yushi dizzy, nervous and scared of what’s to come after.

If he falls any further, he is not sure if there’s an end.

“You can’t just say that,” Yushi replies in a small voice, still feeling flushed all over from Daeyoung’s words.

“It is the truth, boyfriend.” Daeyoung smiles, the upward pull of his lips ends with a sweet dimple on his right cheek. Yushi stares, heart in throat. “I would never lie to you.”

Yushi is back to square one – the uncertainty swarming his mind as he fights over his heart to be logical but Daeyoung makes it so hard with his soft gaze and blunt honesty.

The house is modest. Simple. It is tucked into a quaint neighbourhood where Yushi imagines mornings filled with birds chirping, autumnal leaves falling and the occasional roar of a car driving down the narrow road. Daeyoung did share about his adolescent days where he spent his time with the neighbours’ kids at the nearby playground, or helped his mother with the garden – “She has a green thumb, loves spending time in the garden. Every anniversary, my dad will plant something new for her.” 

Which is another thing as well: his parents’ love that seems to fall out of a fairytale when Daeyoung talked about growing up at home. 

The car pulls into the small driveway, next to a baby blue car. Daeyoung catches Yushi’s curious glance at it and explains that it is his father’s car. The butterflies flock around in his stomach. Yushi nods mutely and takes a second to breathe deeply as Daeyoung exits the car. Just as Yushi settles his nerves (for now), Daeyoung has already opened the door to the passenger side, a hand outreached towards him to take.

“I thought you said you’re reserving the gentlemanly act for your folks?” Yushi jests lightly, taking his hand.

Daeyoung closes the door behind him and gently intertwines their hands, palm to palm. “Can’t I just want to help you?”

No, Yushi wants to say. Because it makes me feel funny things. He glances away instead.

His thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, accompanied by a woman’s voice, soft and melodic, echoing. “Daengie? Is that you?” 

“Ma! Yes, it’s me.” Daeyoung replies in a similar sing-song voice and he tugs Yushi forward to meet his mother.

Yushi is momentarily stunned. He’s seen a photo or two of Daeyoung’s parents but up close, he sees the resemblance more clearly. Daeyoung has the same eyes, round and crinkly at the corners when smiling. His mother slides her focus to Yushi, the smile brightening and nearly blinding Yushi.

“You must be Daeyoung’s boyfriend, Yushi. You’re way more handsome than he described.” Yushi blinks, and Daeyoung’s mother chuckles, reaching for his shoulder to pull him in for an embrace. “Nice to meet you finally, darling.”

Yushi blinks again, swallowing down the lump in his throat. Wow. As he leans back, he regards Daeyoung’s mother with a small, shy smile. “Hi Mrs Kim. Thank you for welcoming me to your home.”

“Anytime! You’re welcome anytime!” She sweeps Yushi into the house, her hand replacing Daeyoung’s, and invites him to take a seat at the lush, burgundy sofa in the living room. “You can sit here first. I’ll prepare some tea and snacks for you. Daengie, please–?”

“Don’t worry, ma. I’ll help you fetch the tea.”

Daeyoung glances at Yushi, shooting him a reassuring smile, and departs to the adjacent kitchen. The panic slowly builds up in his gut, fearful at the idea of being alone with Daeyoung’s mother. As instructed, he timidly takes a seat at the sofa, eyes widening at the house, while Daeyoung’s mother seemingly goes through the cabinets for something.

The interior reminds him of his grandmother’s house back in Tokyo – homey, comfortable and filled with knick knacks throughout the years. Here, Yushi sees a whole wall of framed memories with a glass cabinet of trophies, plaques and decor. In the corner of the living room sits a vase adorned with marigolds, reminding Yushi of Daeyoung’s mother’s penchant for fauna and flora. 

He addresses it with a soft-spoken voice. “That’s a lovely vase. Did Mrs Kim grow the flowers?”

She turns to face him, her gaze following his line of vision, and chuckles. “Ah! That was a very recent bouquet gifted by Mr Kim.” A book appears in her hand and she comes closer to him, sitting a few inches away, leaning in with a whisper. “I love marigolds, you see.”

Yushi smiles, “My mother too.”

Mrs Kim beams, “Great taste! There are many flowers I love but marigolds always have a soft spot in my heart.” She tilts her head at him, still smiling. Even the mannerisms are genetic, Yushi finds out, as she looks exactly like her son in that moment. “What are you weak for, Yushi darling?”

“Oh. Hmm.” Yushi begins fidgeting with his hands. The answer is immediate. At the forefront of his mind. But he can’t say it, he can’t, he can’t– “I’ve been taught by my mother to hold strength in anything I do.”

Mrs Kim snaps her fingers suddenly, surprising Yushi. “That’s the right answer. Your mother raised you well. I’d love to meet her someday.”

Yushi laughs nervously. “Maybe someday when she visits Seoul.”

The pitter-patter of footsteps cuts into their conversation, bringing attention to the serving tray Daeyoung carries out of the kitchen. A cream, porcelain teapot sits on the tray with a few matching cups. Mrs Kim hurries Daeyoung over, hands outstretched to pour the tea for all of them.

“Mr Kim will return soon,” Mrs Kim answers Yushi’s silent question as her hands are busy, scooping spoonfuls of sugar. “Daeyoung can do a house tour for you as I get dinner ready later. Is that fine, dear?”

Yushi nods and reaches forward to help her with the tea but she lightly chides him with a ‘tsk’ noise, stopping his actions immediately. Finding this amusing, Daeyoung laughs, “Don’t come in the way of my mother and feeding people.”

“I can help,” Yushi starts, though he is shot down with a pat on his knee.

“You’re our guest. Do not even bother!” Mrs Kim hovers over an empty cup and looks at him expectantly. “Your preferences, dear?”

Yushi bites down on his bottom lip, unsure of all the fuss but Daeyoung meets his gaze over his mother’s shoulder and lightly shakes his head with a smile. Relenting, he nods towards the small pot of sugar and answers, “Just one scoop is fine, Mrs Kim.”

Once tea is served, Yushi takes a cautious sip of his, the taste of chrysanthemum bursting on tongue. Again, another favourite back at home, he sinks into the familiarity. Mrs Kim brandishes the book she had found moments earlier and Daeyoung glances over her shoulder. “Is that–?”

It looks closer to a photobinder with an interesting cover of patchwork all over which suggests that this was likely handmade and decorated by oneself. Mrs Kim confirms it for him, “This is a collection of old photos from Daeyoung’s childhood. The cover is actually made from his old baby clothes.” She raises it to Yushi’s eye level, “Want to take a look?”

Yushi takes it from her, running a hand over the cover. “Wow, this is so pretty,” he says in awe, and flips it open to the front page where a portrait of a baby takes up the whole page.

Daeyoung has his eyes closed, sighing. “Ma. Why did you bring that out?”

“Your boyfriend has the right to see your cute childhood pictures!” Mrs Kim giggles and pinches his cheek as he juts his bottom lip out in an obvious pout. Yushi laughs quietly, flitting his gaze back to the baby photo – the baby in question is Daeyoung, with the age scrawled underneath the photograph, 2 years old.

The page flips and uncovers a few more photos, smaller in size, depicting a scene of a birthday party. In the background, there is a big ‘3’ in shimmery blue foil with a few colourful balloons. The birthday boy has a striped party hat and reddened chubby cheeks, he stands next to a two-tiered cake that is simply decorated with blue frosting and a puppy sitting on the top of the cake.

“His third birthday party, what a mess that was!” Mrs Kim exclaims. She points to a photo where Daeyoung is attempting to blow the candles on the cake. “He couldn’t blow the candles out. Took him four tries and he nearly cried!”

Daeyoung groans, pained. “Ma, how about you start dinner now?”

“Trying to get rid of me so you can be with your darling?” Mrs Kim teases and Yushi can’t help but redden at the usage of petname in reference to him as… as… Daeyoung’s. She leans forward to peck Daeyoung’s cheek, and glances at Yushi, considering him for a second. It was only a second, until she pecks his right temple swiftly. The gesture has him stiffened in shock and Mrs Kim smiles at him, ruffling his hair a little. “Now, boys, behave. I’ll call for dinner later.”

She leaves Daeyoung and Yushi to their own devices in the living room. Once she ducks into the kitchen, Daeyoung immediately takes up the space she left, closer than she was, his warmth hitting Yushi all at once. His hands cover Yushi’s in an attempt to grab the photobinder away, but Yushi stops him.

“Hey, I was looking at that.” Yushi stubbornly holds on to the photobinder, staring him down.

Daeyoung lifts an eyebrow. “Nope. I have a better idea in mind.”

“Huh. Tell me your idea first.” 

Then, Daeyoung leans in. Too close. His breath ghosts over Yushi, mixing in with his, and he’s breathing in mouthfuls of fresh dew and mint. It clouds his mind and the only instinct blaring through his veins is to jump the distance.

“How about I show you what I have in mind, hmm?” the corner of Daeyoung’s mouth twitches upwards in a handsome smirk, eyes twinkling a hint of something dangerous. Yushi sways into it. He always does. “It’ll be better than a bunch of baby photos, I promise.”

Yushi pretends to ponder, humming. “We were warned, Daeyoung.”

“Don’t worry.” Daeyoung nudges his forehead against Yushi’s and his heart nearly stops. “You’re safe with me.”

That’s how Yushi finds himself nodding along and taking Daeyoung’s hand to wherever his heart wishes.

Taking Daeyoung’s hand brings him to the infamous garden he constantly spoke about.

It is small, less populated than the memories Daeyoung described to Yushi. Figuring that it is due to the season, Yushi still flocks to the fauna, captivated by the still blooming colours decorating the garden. He can sense the love poured into these potted plants, the tireless dedication to growing them. 

Crouching in front of a pot where it sprouts a few vines of basil leaves, he fiddles one of the leaves idly. “My mother had a garden similar to this back home,” he shares in a rare moment of vulnerability. 

Daeyoung copies him, though his limbs are longer and place him at a taller height as expected. “Had?”

Yushi hums. The garden died when they moved into the heart of the city where houses became apartments and there isn’t big enough of a space to have a garden as lush and bright as this. “She still keeps some of her favourite plants in smaller pots by the kitchen window.” On every birthday, Yushi will gift her a single lily from a local florist – pocket money saved up over a few lunches – and she adds it to the growing vase. 

It’s been a while since he went back home.

“Do you miss home?” Daeyoung asks softly, gaze ever sharp, watching him.

“Sometimes,” Yushi chooses honesty this time. Thinks Daeyoung deserves it. To anyone else, Yushi would brave it and wave the homesickness away. Calling home from time to time loses its appeal and there’s a pregnant pause in between every call to train him to get used to it.

(There’s a heavy struggle in that. Yushi is unfortunately all heart.)

Daeyoung arrests his attention by touching his hand gingerly, pulling him into his chest, and it’s only a few seconds until Yushi realises that Daeyoung is embracing him. The warmth emanates off his chest, flushed against his face, and Yushi sighs into the hug, settling his hands somewhere on Daeyoung’s waist. Slightly awkward, a little tense, but the most comfort he’s received in a long while.

They don’t speak for a stretch of time. Just slow, languid breaths. The periodic rise and fall of Daeyoung’s chest. Underneath, Yushi can hear the beat of his heart, the fastening pace, he closes his eyes and imagines.

“Thank you,” he speaks into Daeyoung’s shirt. Slightly muffled by the fabric but he knows he’s heard when Daeyoung chuckles lightly. 

“Anytime for you, boyfriend.”

Reality crashes down on Yushi. Blunt, ice cold. He forcibly pulls back from the hug and maintains his gaze trained on the grassy patch. Daeyoung lets out a confused noise but Yushi gets up, way too fast till his world slips, dizzy, and he stumbles a little before righting himself.

“Are you okay?” Daeyoung touches his shoulder and Yushi shrugs him off. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m alright.” He takes in the rest of the garden and distracts Daeyoung with questions aimed at the different plants. There’s a sort of emptiness in his voice that even he can’t ignore but he pushes past it. 

Boyfriend. Boyfriend. Boyfriend.

Yushi hopes that he can stop feeling like a fool.

The entire time, Daeyoung holds a concerned gaze but he doesn’t question the sudden strange behaviour. Giving Yushi space. And it’s this kind gesture that breaks Yushi even more.

Soon enough, the front door reveals Mr Kim’s return and Mrs Kim announces that dinner is ready.

Yushi’s hands begin to sweat.

Of course, Daeyoung notices the spike of nerves and covers Yushi’s line of vision to the house briefly with his body. “Hey,” he says softly under his breath, only for Yushi to hear. “You have been wonderful so far. I appreciate this a lot.”

Yushi swallows around the never-ending bitter taste in his mouth. “It’s what I’m here for.”

Daeyoung stares at him, the once bright, smiling expression has been replaced by something he can’t fathom. Something unfamiliar. His mouth parts, but he stops himself short. Yushi blinks back at him, waiting. 

“Nevermind. Let’s go eat.”

Wordlessly, he follows Daeyoung back into the house and stops short at the sight of a man engulfing Mrs Kim in a hug from the back. She covers her laugh with her hand and taps lightly against the man’s forearm – Yushi assumes he is Daeyoung’s father in the flesh. The casual display of affection has his heart constricting a little and yet, he’s enticed by the sight. Next to him, Daeyoung’s mouth curls gently and he suddenly reaches for Yushi’s hand, tugging him forward till they’re both within his parent’s line of vision.

Mr Kim looks at him and smiles. They have the same smile, similar lines around the mouth, the same dimple dented in the right cheek. His eyes are bright, kind, and Yushi stiffens, nerves overriding his system. Daeyoung notices, of course he does, and he squeezes Yushi’s hand, casually intertwining their fingers, warming Yushi up further.

“Appa, this is Yushi, my boyfriend.” Daeyoung introduces shyly.

“Hi,” Yushi says, mouth full of lead, palm turning clammy in Daeyoung’s hand. “Thank you for having me over.”

Mr Kim laughs, a full belly laughter that echoes throughout the kitchen. “Don’t be so nervous!” He turns to his son, mocking him with a wagging finger. “What did you tell him about us that he’s gotten so anxious?”

Daeyoung rolls his eyes but Yushi answers instead, scratching at his nape nervously. “It’s nothing. It’s my first time and I hope I can make a good impression.

He feels eyes on him intently from his side but he stares forward, shyly holding Mr Kim’s gaze. The older man hums and reaches forward to pat him on the shoulder. “Daeyoung was right. I can see why he’s fallen for you. You’re exactly the kind of cute, shy boy he talks about.”

Yushi blinks profusely, turning to Daeyoung who has begun flushing, tips reddening. His voice croons out in a pitchy whine, “Ah, appa. Why did you have to embarrass me that way?”

Mr Kim continues bellowing as Daeyoung huffs and pulls Yushi towards the dinner table. He gestures at the seat, inviting him to go ahead, as he automatically reaches for the plates and cutlery. Yushi hesitates, watching Daeyoung’s hands move across the table robotically, and bumps his hip against Daeyoung’s, nudging him over. Daeyoung shoots him a confused look, eyebrows furrowed adorably, Yushi fights the urge to pinch his cheek lightly.

“Let me help,” Yushi whispers, covering Daeyoung’s hands with his, slowly prying him off the cutlery and taking over. He hums to himself, plating the table methodically.

“Why are you making the guest work?!” Mrs Kim gasps. “Dear, please take a seat instead.”

“No, it’s okay, Mrs Kim. I’d love to help.” Yushi smiles softly at her. He spots the dishes behind her on the counter and tentatively gestures at them. “May I help in plating them?”

Mrs Kim stares at him for a second longer, the surprise spreading across her features. “You’re a really kind darling, dear.” Yushi flushes slightly, shy at the praise. There’s a twinkle in her eyes as she continues, “I can see why Daeyoung likes you so much.”

Yushi fully reddens and mutely nods, unsure on how to respond. Daeyoung resembles him as well, cheeks prettily pinked and he hides his face away, turning back to the table to continue. They move around one another, with casual comments. Daeyoung’s father has gone upstairs to wash up quickly and once the table is set, he’s already back downstairs with cleanly shaven face.

The table is filled with an array of dishes with the main dish resembling a stew. Yushi takes a tentative whiff and asks politely, “Is this gamjatang?”

Mrs Kim invites him over to sit and he does, next to her, across from Daeyoung. “Yes, darling. Have you had it before?”

“A few times. Never in a home before.” Yushi stares at the spread of food, a prick of homesickness cutting into his throat and causing him to sound slightly choked. “Thank you for this meal, Mrs Kim.”

She looks at him with a delicate expression. “Here, darling. I’ll scoop the best part for you.” The ladle hovers over his soup bowl and she pours the stew with a generous amount of meat for him. Carefully filling up his bowl, she says sweetly. “Gamjatang is one of Daeyoung’s favourite meals back home. He’s mentioned that you hardly get to eat homecooked meals.”

It is true, but the observation has Yushi antsy. Cooking in the apartment is a tiring chore and while Yushi and Riku try their best to imitate meals they love back home, Yushi finds that he still can’t perfect an omelette the way his mother has, and they both resort to takeouts ninety percent of the time.

“Yes, I don’t cook often at home.” Yushi admits. Mrs Kim reaches for the side dishes to plate for him and he stops her in time. “It’s okay, Mrs Kim! Please.”

“Ma, it’s alright.” Daeyoung takes over, grabbing the serving spoons. “You can do it for appa. I’ll do it for Yushi.”

“Daeyoung…”

He shushes him, already scooping up a spoonful of beansprouts. “Let me take care of you.”

The protests die on his tongue and he sits on his hands, watching the parallels between Mrs Kim and Daeyoung. His plate fills up swiftly, courtesy of Daeyoung’s generosity. When he’s with Riku and Sakuya, these gestures are second-nature to him. Riku loves being pampered even though he is slightly older, and Sakuya is automatically the baby of the three, comfortable with not lifting a finger till Yushi does for him.

Watching Daeyoung and his mother move around the table in sync to feed them, it feels entrancing. Is this what a home feels like? Yushi has been way too far from home to recall.

They call for the meal to begin, Mr Kim utters a quick, short prayer beforehand. While Yushi isn’t of faith, he closes his eyes out of respect and clasps his hands together.

“Thank you once again for the meal, Mrs Kim.” His mouth salivates at the food laid out on his plate. “This really looks good.”

“Eat a lot, darling.” Mrs Kim beams at him.

Yushi takes a bite of the lean meat and his teeth sink onto the meat instantly, soft and flavourful. The spices hit him a second later but it is nothing he is not used to, having lived in Seoul for quite a bit now. Instead, he welcomes it, addicted to the flavour, chewing on the meat. Looking up, he meets Daeyoung across the table and catches him smiling fondly down at him. Yushi scrunches his nose, and raises an eyebrow questioningly. Daeyoung simply shakes his head to himself and looks back down at his food, smile still unwavering on his lips, and they wrap around the spoon.

His lips purse and a thought occurs to him – his foot dances around mindlessly underneath the table and he peeks a little under the tablecloth to find Daeyoung’s ankles crossed politely. Cute.

Then, Yushi tips his foot forward, en pointe, and grazes Daeyoung’s foot lightly, all five toes dancing along his skin. Daeyoung visibly jumps, looking up like a meerkat, searching around the table before landing on Yushi and his barely constrained, mischievous smile. Yushi shrugs, acting nonchalant, all the while he does the same thing. Over and over. With his gaze fixed on Daeyoung’s.

“So, Daeyoung here told us you play soccer.” Mr Kim asks. Yushi nearly jumps out of his skin. “Are you any good at it?”

Yushi smiles politely, “I almost went professional when I was younger…” It’s not really a tale worth telling as it happened a long time ago but there’s an eagerness in the atmosphere, both parents are listening attentively and Daeyoung is smiling at him, quietly urging him on. “My father sent me to Italy for a soccer camp. It was really fun and exhilarating.”

The memories come rushing back to him. He remembers telling his parents at fourteen that he didn’t feel confident about pursuing soccer as a career anymore. “I decided later on that I wanted it as a hobby instead.”

“Wow. How old were you?”

“I was fourteen when I asked to slow down on the soccer camps and tournaments. I still love playing it but I don’t think I should do it professionally.”

Daeyoung chooses this moment to tickle the back of his foot, nearly jostling Yushi in the process. Yushi attempts to hide it by adjusting his seat and biting down on the inside of his cheek. At least the topic of conversations aids the nervous expression he’s probably sporting. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Daeyoung quietly chuckling behind a hand.

“That’s so wise of you…” Mr Kim says, awed. “You’re surprising me.”

Yushi laughs, shocked at the blunt admission. “In a good way, I hope, Mr Kim?”

Mr Kim joins in the laughter. “Yes, in a really good way. I see why you’re a good fit for our Daeyoung.” He clasps onto Daeyoung’s shoulder. “This boy also decided to keep his singing talent as a hobby. Have you heard him sing?”

Shyly, Yushi nods. He locks gazes with Daeyoung momentarily and smiles. His foot slides up the lanky ankle, smoothly exploring the strip of exposed skin. Daeyoung barely restrains his shiver and Yushi’s smile widens. “Yes. He sounds like a divine songbird.”

“Ha! No flirting at the table.” Mr Kim teases and this time, Yushi has to hide his smile, turning away. He feels the softest tap on his foot. If only they knew.

The meal continues with more questions, curiously toned and directed at Yushi about his life in Tokyo and how he finds studying in Seoul. With every chatter, he feels himself opening up easier and easier, the nerves from earlier slowly dissipating. It must be a gift exclusive to the Kims – carrying an ease that helps Yushi feel comfortable. 

Mrs Kim stops Yushi at the front door, his right hand heavy with the amount of leftovers she had handed to him moments earlier. 

“You’re welcome to come back any time, my darling,” she says. Her smile is of warmth, so earnestly kind that it tugs on Yushi’s heartstrings that this is all an act. A fool, he is. “Ask Daeyoung to bring you over more often. I’ll be happy to host you.”

“Mrs Kim…” Yushi swallows down the lump in his throat, his heart filled with uncertainty. He fully faces her and considers for a split second before embracing her in a short hug. She lets out a surprised gasp but doesn’t pull away, instead she leans in as well, returning the hug.

Yushi pulls back and smiles. “You are very kind. Thank you. I will consider the offer.”

“Don’t just consider it, Yushi.” Mrs Kim hums. “You are good for Daeyoung. Both Mr Kim and I can see how much you care about him. Your eyes follow him wherever he goes, that’s a love that is steady and honest.” Yushi feels his heart quicken. Pained. “Come back with Daeyoung. Spend time here. This can be a home too.”

Tears prickle the corners of his eyes and he swiftly blinks them away, nodding. Repeating his earlier sentiment. “Thank you, Mrs Kim. I will.” He reluctantly lets go of her and takes a step back. Daeyoung has been waiting at the car for him, already bidding his goodbyes earlier. “Have a good rest. I’ll go now.”

“Have a safe drive back, darling.” To Daeyoung, she shouts, “And call us when you get back!” Back to Yushi, her mouth softens in a small smile. “Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

Yushi can’t speak anymore. He nods and turns around, rushing down the porch steps to reach Daeyoung at the car. Taking the packed containers, Daeyoung opens the backseat and neatly puts them there. Then, he opens the passenger door for Yushi, leading him into his seat.

“Sorry about ma. She gets sentimental about goodbyes.” Daeyoung explains once he’s gotten in the car, turning the ignition on and wearing the seatbelt. Noticing that Yushi is stiffened in his own seat, he reaches over to wear his seatbelt, jolting Yushi out of his reverie in the process. 

The scent wafts over him and Yushi sighs. “It’s alright. She is extremely nice. I see where you get your traits from.”

“You think I’m nice?” Daeyoung teases, settling back in his seat. The scent wavers briefly, in and out of Yushi’s nostrils. 

Yushi merely hums in answer and turns towards the car window once Daeyoung begins backing out of the driveway. Outside, he sees Daeyoung’s parents on the porch, arms loosely around each other. They start to wave at them as Daeyoung drives onto the narrow street. The smile on their faces, bright in the moonlit night.

“Do you think it’ll be alright for them that this is a one-time thing?”

“Hm?” Daeyoung turns to him briefly as they set out on the road, driving back to Yushi’s apartment first. “What do you mean?”

There are thorns in his heart. Constantly pricking. “Since this is all an act.”

“Oh.” The disappointment surprises Yushi and he glances at Daeyoung, noticing an unreadable expression. His features turn cold. Impassive. So does his tone. Empty. “Yeah. I’ll eventually time it out and tell them that you are no longer my boyfriend.”

No longer my boyfriend. 

“Mm,” Yushi simply says. He can’t rebut if he wanted to. What does he even want.

His head spins with uncertainty, his heart is a raging storm that he can’t even begin to breach. The sudden cold on his right has him fiddling his fingers again, anxious. Scared. 

The car ride back is silent, save for the occasional roars from the vehicles around them. A direct opposite of the car ride to Daeyoung’s house. Yushi’s heart grows heavier and heavier as the car covers more ground till it reaches his apartment.

The familiar building comes into vision and Daeyoung enters the basement carpark instead of parking outside for Yushi. The simple gesture has Yushi surprised again and he doesn’t, he can’t even protest as Daeyoung is already finding a parking spot.

As the car comes to a stop, the engine turns off, further engulfing them in the stiffening silence since earlier. It wraps a hand around Yushi’s throat and chokes him tighter now when he’s facing Daeyoung. He has turned in his seat to bid his goodbyes but Daeyoung is still staring ahead. Hands flexing on the steering wheel. Knuckles whitening, reddening, whitening.

“Daeyoung,” Yushi whispers but he cuts him off.

“Thank you for coming along with me today.” Daeyoung quietly says. Still not looking at him. “My folks really loved you.”

Yushi stares at Daeyoung’s side profile, shrouded in shadow in the poorly lit carpark. There is a flickering light ahead of the car. Every single time it flickers, Yushi sees Daeyoung’s freckles speckled across his cheek. He sees the clenching of his jaw. He sees bitten marks along his bottom lip. Then, he sees the soft baby fat still stored in his pinked cheeks, the short lashes fanning out, the warm brown of his irises.

This can be a home too.

Taking a deep breath, he leans in and pecks Daeyoung softly on his cheek. It causes the latter to jolt in his seat, turning around to face him in shock, mouth parted. 

“Thank you, Daeyoung.” Yushi says instead. “It had been lovely getting to know your parents and it had been amazing to be your boyfriend. Even for a night.”

Yushi doesn’t wait for Daeyoung’s response. He opens the car door and gets out, nearly forgetting the packed containers. After taking the plastic bag, he steps back from the car, squinting into the tinted window and barely making out the sharp lines of Daeyoung’s face. He steps back again and lifts a hand to wave goodbye.

Then, he turns, finally, and leaves.

His body lays in a puddle of misty, weighed down thoughts. They spread far from his mind, extending at his fingertips, curling around his star form in bed.

Monday is reserved for three classes, one starting at nine in the morning. It is already eight and on any other Monday, Yushi will be up and ready, chasing down the bus and hoping he has a few minutes to grab a coffee to go before the class.

Today, however, Yushi feels hopeless.

A knock on the door tugs him out of his reverie, his head lifting up slightly to find Riku leaning against the frame. His narrow, cat-like eyes linger on him with hints of worry and he crosses his arms, observing Yushi in his pathetic state. He is hardly this difficult, emotional but the weekend has triggered something in him. Something that should have laid dormant in him.

Riku accompanies him on the edge of the bed. “Do I call for reinforcements?”

Yushi lets out a sharp laugh, not expecting the question. With a low groan, the bed creaks under his attempt to get up and he regards Riku properly. The worry has spread to the downturn of his mouth. Sighing, Yushi pats absentmindedly at Riku’s anxious hands on the sheets and stands up, stretching his arms above his head.

“I’m fine. I might skip my morning lecture though.”

“You never skip lectures, Yushi.” He moves through his room like a blind, wavering ghost, touching the bookshelves, picking up stray, crumpled pieces of paper on the floor, adjusting the placement of his desk chair. “Yushi? What happened yesterday?”

“I told you.” Yushi came home and told Riku that Daeyoung’s parents fell completely for the act and it was a success. 

Though, he did not tell Riku about how he spent twenty minutes in the emergency stairs, heaving and trying to stop the tears from flowing. Nor did he mention how he had fallen completely for Daeyoung as well. These are irrelevant.

Riku gets up too, moving to stop Yushi from spiralling further with a hand curled around his wrist, and forces him to look at him. In the face of pure concern, Yushi wavers, his heart crumbling under the weight of hiding it from his best friend, but the mere thought of speaking it out loud scares him terribly.

To feed power to a thought, to let it come alive in the space of reality. Yushi wishes for it to remain deep inside, locked and hidden from prying eyes.

“Did something happen with Daeyoung?”

Yushi sighs, falling forward to rest his forehead against Riku’s shoulder, the pillar he’s grown to lean on through years of knowing him. In a small voice, he replies, a bite of courage between his teeth, “No, but I also don’t think I can face him anymore.”

He feels the vibration of Riku’s comforting hum, his hand has come up to soothe the tension in between Yushi’s shoulder blades. 

“Do you like him?” Riku finally asks.

“No,” Yushi lies but it’s futile. They both know the truth.

Riku doesn’t press, they remain in a warm embrace for a few moments before he slowly pulls away and invites Yushi to a breakfast. A simple affair of soft boiled eggs, scraps of toast and green tea. Yushi is unable to stomach anything though he agrees to it, to have a bit of peace at the very least. 

It’s an offer for company in a moment of weakness and Yushi finds that he doesn’t mind the idea, following Riku to the kitchen.

At the dining table, he pours it out, a dam unleashing endlessly. Riku is understanding when Yushi opens up about the dinner. Quiet and attentive, abandoning his plate of breakfast to sit next to Yushi at the dining table. The focus is nerve-wrecking, itching on his skin like a million ants, but he powers through. Talking eases the tension in his shoulders, he still slumps sideways to find comfort in Riku’s touch.

“You knew this was going to happen,” Riku simply says. Yushi nods and doesn’t add anything else to the matter, leaving Riku with a weighted silence that speaks for itself. “I don’t think you should avoid Daeyoung.”

“Why?” The question is muffled but Riku has no issue in hearing him.

“Because you need to try, Yushi. You never know what might happen.”

“I do, though.” Yushi straightens and faces Riku with a solemn expression. “It was only for the weekend. It doesn’t last beyond the act. He doesn’t feel anything for me.”

Riku offers him a small smile. In a gentle voice, he says, “Get out of your head and maybe you’ll see what you want is just right there. You are never too sure of it.”

But Riku is wrong– Yushi knows that what he wants is merely a foolish dream. 

As Yushi runs away, it comes creeping up on him in his vulnerable moments, unexpected. Like a ghost slipping back into his life, whispering into his ear, haunting him of the familiar voice he’s tried to forget in the past week.

Ironically, Daeyoung finds him a week to the day he came tumbling into his life in a different way.

The library has become a safe haven for Yushi, particularly at night, long after his lecture has ended. As much as he adores Riku, the longer he spends in his presence, there is constantly an expectation of a breakthrough, something different, but Yushi remains the same coward as he is for the longest time. Therefore, the library is an escape and he does need to work on his research papers – the most convenient excuse to distract him from any smiling, bright-eyed and tall boy that may consume his mind.

In the back of the library, Yushi has found a cosy spot. His most frequented spot for the past week. No one really goes into the world history section, and the overhead light often flickers, faulty and distracting. It doesn’t bother Yushi as much, the dim light is enough for him to discern the words and beggars can’t be choosers in this scenario. He’ll adapt whenever necessary.

It brings a shock to his relaxed state of mind when he hears a familiar voice crooning out his name softly in the mild darkness, “Yushi?”

Yushi drops the hardbound book he had been balancing on his knee and it tumbles out of his hands, hitting the floor in a soft thud. His heart mirrors the thud, repeats, and it stays consistent, beating out of his ribcage loudly. Looking up in dread, Yushi sees the face he’s been avoiding all week.

“Daeyoung,” Yushi says weakly. Timid. Bending over, he grabs the book and focuses on brushing off imaginary lint in hopes of calming his heart down. It doesn’t work, predictably. He sounds breathless still when he asks, “What are you doing here?”

Naturally, his gaze flits upwards to Daeyoung. He has never been one to look away from the boy with the soft lines around his mouth, eyes warm and round. There is a certain sadness to the smile Daeyoung wears, spreading out to the slumped state of his shoulders. Yushi wants to ease the sadness, wants to come closer and wants Daeyoung to want him just as badly.

“I am studying…” Daeyoung sighs, and the look in his eyes grips Yushi tightly. His voice is soft, inquisitive. “Yushi, have you been avoiding me?”

Yushi doesn’t answer but his gaze drops to the carpeted floor.

Daeyoung sounds so sad, it squeezes at his heart painfully. “Why?”

Toeing a strange stain on the carpet, it’s an odd shape of a blob. Yushi fixates on it to regulate his breathing, to recover his bearings. “I don’t know,” he murmurs, the smallest semblance of a truth that he can provide.

Yushi senses Daeyoung coming closer, his shadow intertwining with his under the flickering overhead light. His hands tighten on the book and before he can even use it as an excuse to run away, or something, Daeyoung beats him to it, grabbing the book and placing it on the shelf next to them, effectively shutting down all of Yushi’s defense system.

“Be honest with me. Are we not friends?” Daeyoung asks. His voice takes on a hurt tone and Yushi closes his eyes, pained. Emotions brew in him in a whirlwind storm and with every word Daeyoung utters, he’s close to bursting. “Yushi…? I thought last weekend brought us closer.”

“Friends,” Yushi repeats hollowly.

There is a second of hesitation on Daeyoung’s end. And he asks again, this time, he sounds perplexed. “Are we not?”

Yushi opens his eyes, finding Daeyoung’s gaze. It builds up in him, the wave of emotions, intensifying further in the close proximity. He knew this was a bad idea. He knew he was right to avoid Daeyoung all along because now, as he stands, looking up at Daeyoung, everything rushes back to him. The pain of wanting something, someone and having a taste of the unattainable only to be ripped away by icy cold reality.

“How could I ever be friends with you, Daeyoung?” Yushi’s voice is hushed, filled with revolting ache that he cannot swallow down. “Is this what you think I want with you?”

The frown lodges itself in between Daeyoung’s eyebrows, his mouth turning into a small confused pout. God. Even upset, Daeyoung is handsome. Nothing taints this face, not even the ugliest emotion in the universe. His gaze dances all over Yushi’s face, searching, searching.

“What do you mean?” Daeyoung sounds punched, hurt. The sound sinks in Yushi’s gut, feeding to the ache. “Yushi, I.. I thought…”

“I like you,” Yushi’s voice is a quiet whisper. A confession that travels low in the dim light. There it is. Out into the space of reality and his entire body is quivering with fear. His gaze casts downwards in fear of Daeyoung’s reaction and he fiddles with his hands, feeling the ridges of his bony fingers, cold all over. 

Because you need to try, Yushi. You never know what might happen.

A surprised gasp echoes in Yushi’s ears. “You do? Since when?”

The memory slots back in the front of his mind in blinding clarity. “The day when you first spoke to me at our senior’s party.” 

It was an invitation directly from Jaehyun himself, dimpled and friendly when he smiled at Yushi outside one of his classes. Yushi had only known Riku then, and he was on first name basis with several people in his Marketing class. Befriending others takes a while usually, in Yushi's case, and he had only been a freshman for a few months.

That was when Daeyoung's handsome smile took him off guard.

He thought Daeyoung was a sophomore, with the way he moved through the throngs of people at the party. People parted to let him through but not without a handshake or a clap on the shoulder. Daeyoung was friendly with nearly eighty percent of the party and he's close to Jaehyun and Johnny. When Daeyoung passed by Yushi in the kitchen, he didn't expect anything – people only know of him as Riki's roommate or the newbie in the soccer team.

Daeyoung surprised him – as Yushi later on grew to realise it will be a common occurrence – by stopping and asking for his name with a smile that weakened his heart.

“That is…a long time ago.” Daeyoung exhales sharply. A moment of silence follows as Yushi stares stubbornly at the floor, the carpeted floor of the library, the ugly blob of a stain, the tips of their shoes. “Yushi,” follows after, in a soft utter of breath.

Yushi hums, still unwavering.

“Sweetheart,” Yushi feels a tap on his chin and then Daeyoung cups his face, gently forcing him to look up to meet his gaze. The air rushes out of Yushi’s lungs at the fondness flowing out of Daeyoung’s face. Under the warm light, shadows dance across the planes of his handsome face and Yushi tips forward, forehead resting against Daeyoung’s. In a slow exhale, Daeyoung repeats again: “Sweetheart.”

“Stop saying that. You're making me feel…” Yushi shuts his eyes, feeling his face heat up from both the proximity and the low tone of Daeyoung’s voice. Reserved for him in this quiet aisle. His hands come up to wrap around Daeyoung’s neck, feeling the flutter of his pulse.

Daeyoung’s other hand travels up to tug at the light hairs at the bottom of Yushi’s nape. Yushi gasps softly and it turns into an invitation of Daeyoung’s mouth warming up his neck, feather light touches down his jawline.

“Hmm?” the low vibration of Daeyoung’s voice hits Yushi like an arrow straight to his chest and his hands clam down on Daeyoung’s shoulders for some leverage. “You drive me crazy, Yushi. You asked why I've never dated before and it's because I've been waiting for this, for you.”

“What?!” Yushi’s shocked voice evaporates into a soft gasp when Daeyoung quickly kisses the corner of his mouth. Intentionally.

He pulls back, rubbing Yushi’s cheek sweetly where he knows there's a scar there. The story has been told a thousand times, a soccer match where Yushi took a nasty fall and scraped his knees, arms and face. It's always been an ugly marking of a clumsy moment from his childhood but in this second, Yushi feels awed at, having witnessed the adoration clear in Daeyoung’s gaze. 

“I like you too.” Daeyoung answers simply. “Don't ask me when. I just know that whenever I look at you, I want you.” 

His heart expands, face flooding with colour but Yushi doesn't look away. He takes every second in of Daeyoung's pretty pinked cheeks, his small, pouty mouth and the bright glint in his eyes. Yushi closes the distance and slowly, presses a kiss to Daeyoung's soft, soft mouth. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” Daeyoung breathes out. His hand tightens on Yushi’s hair and it invokes a different sort of gasp out of him. The sound has Daeyoung’s gaze darkening. “Come here.”

Yushi inches closer.

“This does look like a hopeless case.”

Yushi tuts, pulling Daeyoung away from the washing machine, and peers into the still, broken state that has been for the past few weeks. Nothing, despite his and Riku’s efforts, has changed even with multiple rewatches of Youtube tutorials. When he invited Daeyoung over, the idea sparked to him in hopes that a third person might see differently.

But Daeyoung has different ideas in mind. His hands find Yushi’s waist, tugging him back till he’s flushed against Daeyoung’s chest. Into Yushi’s ear, he whispers, “Enough of the broken washing machine, sweetheart. Didn’t we have other plans in mind?”

"I am going to throw you out.” Yushi threatens while leaning into Daeyoung’s touch, turning his nose into Daeyoung’s neck to take a whiff of his clean, refreshing fragrance, reminding him of rainy days. Sighing, he continues. “Behave.”

“Right.” Daeyoung says. And turns Yushi to face him before lightly slamming him against the washing machine. Yushi gasps at the boldness. Daeyoung grins wickedly, “Am I behaving now?”

Yushi reaches upwards to run a hand into Daeyoung’s unruly hair– they messed around earlier on the couch before the idea struck him. Dancing fingertips along his nape, he pulls on the light hairs and watches in delighted awe as Daeyoung’s mouth parts automatically in a softly uttered moan. He giggles and Daeyoung’s gaze intensifies. His hands tighten on Yushi’s waist, the pads of his thumbs pressing down on the sides of his torso where his muscles tense under the pressure.

“Kiss me, boyfriend.” Yushi whispers. The light reignites brighter in Daeyoung’s eyes and his smile turns a shade more wicked, the corner of his mouth teasing as he leans forward to brush his lips over Yushi’s jawline instead. Yushi sighs into it.

“Let me hear that again.”

Daeyoung’s voice is deep, vibrating against his skin as he continues to pepper kisses down Yushi’s neck. He has found his favourite spot– Yushi’s sensitive spot, and he teases at the skin with his tongue before grazing lightly with his teeth. Yushi squirms in his hold but the grip Daeyoung has on him leaves no space to move. His gut sizzles with a certain hunger.

They’ve only been dating for a short while and yet, Yushi is still not used to the way Daeyoung can easily switch demeanours. He’s normally his bright-eyed, flirty and loud with puppy-like tendencies self– the one that Yushi has spent an embarrassing time crushing on, and is most familiar with. Being his boyfriend has dragged in a whole new world, one where Yushi is gazed at adoringly, and now, feverishly, hungrily. Like Yushi is the only one that can satiate the enormous hunger burning his insides.

Being boyfriends also means Yushi is allowed to touch, let his hands roam all over. He does so, with his hands on Daeyoung’s shoulders, squeezing the tight muscle there, wrapping around his long neck, feeling the jump of his pulse underneath his touch.

He keeps his eyelashes lowered, fixing Daeyoung with a heated look. “Kiss me, baby.” Yushi breathes out.

Daeyoung smiles and covers the distance to swallow the sigh that escapes Yushi’s lips when his hands travel upwards to find his ribcage, holding him there, holding his heart. Their mouths slot together in sync. Yushi has learnt that Daeyoung likes to hear him so he moans when Daeyoung nibbles tastefully on his bottom lip, bruising the thin skin there. His hold on Daeyoung’s neck tightens as he licks into his mouth, licking and savouring the essence of him.

They pull apart and Yushi leans back against the washing machine with a light thud. Daeyoung eyes his mouth, and lifts a hand to sweep against the sheen of saliva coating his lips. Yushi instinctively licks at the thumbnail and is thrilled at Daeyoung’s darkening stare.

“You’re ruining me, sweetheart.” Daeyoung says, breathless.

“Payback,” Yushi says and pecks a kiss onto Daeyoung’s thumb. Tilting his head, he asks, “Now, boyfriend. What do you suggest we do about the washing machine?”

Daeyoung’s stare lingers on him, turning perplexed. Then, he laughs, surprised. Cradling Yushi’s cheek gently, he shrugs, fond and happy. Yushi drinks in the sound of his melodic laugh. “You tell me. I can try again to fix it but if it worsens, you have to call your landlord.”

“I have faith in you.”

Daeyoung laughs again and steps back, his hand shifting to intertwine with Yushi’s instead. Another thing that Yushi has learnt is that Daeyoung did not lie about being touchy, he never leaves Yushi feeling cold. “What’s the reward if I fix it however?”

Yushi pretends to contemplate, his other finger tapping on his chin. With a teasing twinkle in his gaze, he purrs at Daeyoung in a lower voice. “If you fix it, I’ll give you anything you want.”

Daeyoung raises an eyebrow. “Anything?”

Yushi nods. Affirming. “Anything.”

Leaning in, he boops Yushi’s nose lightly. His voice is intentionally low to mirror Yushi’s just seconds before, his eyes sparkling with mirth. “What if I want you?”

A chuckle slips past Yushi’s swollen mouth, pleased. Daeyoung’s lips are similarly bruised. Courtesy of him. The thought ripples through him with shyness. Loving Daeyoung never stops feeling like a crush, he constantly awakens with the need to be closer and closer till he’s sinking into Daeyoung’s skin. He squeezes their hands together, smiling softly at his boyfriend.

“Then, you better fix that washing machine.”

Truth is, Daeyoung doesn’t have to try too hard. He’s already gotten Yushi’s beating heart in a locked safe by his bedside, where home begins.