commas of care

Yeonjun used to say, I’ll live this life too. I’ll have my own dream too and use my own hands and body to build something that’s mine and mine alone. Maybe not now, but later when I’m free.
But now, he's twenty-eight years old, years into a career, and married to someone he doesn't know; there is no later. This is just his life and he has to live with that.

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“One day, you’re seventeen and you’re planning for someday. And then quietly, without you ever really noticing, someday is today. And then someday is yesterday. And this is your life.”

Mark Schwahn

When Yeonjun was young—that is to say, a child—his mother held him in her arms and cooed, we are the weavers of the world, my love.

It sounded magical when she said it. Like they were royalty and the world was their empire and this was their purpose: to weave the history of the world.

And then, he grew up and found that it was the tagline of their family’s growing conglomerate. We are the weavers of the world, gilded and large and seen by everyone walking into their company’s headquarters in Gangnam.

A bold declaration, but Yeonjun knew it was only a dream halfway through its gestation period. Formed, still on its way to becoming, and nurtured under his mother’s hands.

In a way, it was his parents’ first child. His brother, even if Yeonjun was technically an only child. People say that the first born always gets the most attention, and Yeonjun found this to be true. The problem was that this first born was only an idea with no hands nor body, so Yeonjun had to be its hands and body.

He used to have this dream, back when he was younger—that is to say, a teenager—that this brother, this dream, this idea would grow its own hands and body and wings, so it could stop using his.

He used to say, I’ll live this life too. I’ll have my own dream and use my own hands and body to build something that’s mine and mine alone. Maybe not now, but later when I’m free.

He doesn’t know how many times he’s said that. More times than he’s ever said no to his mother probably, which was something he’s never been good at. He was bad at it when he was a child, because he wanted to be a good son and follow the path she had laid out for him. He was bad at it as a teenager, because he didn’t know how to say no. And now, as an adult, he’s still bad at it—and for that, he has no excuse.

A chaebol with the name Choi shouldn’t act so powerless, but what can he do? A child rewarded for obedience can only become an adult that only knows how to please.

It’s how he finds himself engaged and then married to a man two years his junior within the span of two months. A time frame that befits whirlwind romances, not arranged marriages between two strangers. Their interactions can be counted on one hand and their words exchanged can be summarized to:

“Hi—”

“Hello—”

“I do.”

Choi Beomgyu. The second son of Choi Hyunbin, the main shareholder and power behind one of the most powerful conglomerates in South Korea, with strongholds both in the entertainment and tech industries. An artist who doesn’t have any interest in his rich father’s business.

His husband. The man he’s supposed to live the rest of his life with. Yeonjun probably shouldn’t say that. There is no supposed. Beomgyu is the man he’ll be with for the rest of his life.

It’s a reality he has to live with and is trying hard not to think about. Another thing he couldn’t say no to. Another thing he has to give up (love, a blurrier dream he’s vaguely thought of having but a dream nonetheless).

He thinks this may be the last thing he’ll say yes to, but only because there isn’t much of anything left for him to give. This is the end of the line.

This may be the end of the line for him too. Not now, maybe later, he used to say. Twenty-eight years old, years into a career and married to someone he doesn’t know; there is no later. This is just his life and he has to live with that.

And he’s not even angry. He’s just resigned. And with time, maybe he’ll be able to love it.

He just needs the time. At least, that’s what he’s using as a justification for why he’s not spending that much time with Beomgyu.

After all, there’s so much time in the future—is there any need to rush in building this relationship with this stranger?

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Yeonjun has a daily routine that he rarely strays from.

He’s an early riser who likes to start his days with a morning run. After exercising, he takes a shower and gets dressed for work. When he’s in a good mood, he’ll even consider sparing some time for himself to make breakfast (which mind you, is a very simple omelette and cut up fruits). The rest of his day is spent at work.

There really isn’t much to be said about work. What he does there varies every day; what’s consistent is that it takes up most of his day and edges almost always into the night. There’s always so much to be done.

Once he gets home, he’s usually so tired and bleary eyed from looking at numerous documents and attending meetings that he usually takes a quick shower then passes out on his bed.

Surprisingly, Yeonjun hasn’t seen much interruption from his daily routine, which he realizes is noteworthy considering he’s a couple weeks into his marriage. His husband—Beomgyu, he should say—has been mostly quiet. Yeonjun thinks that a ghost would have made more noise.

In the beginning, Yeonjun had given him a brief tour of his home when Beomgyu moved in after the wedding. He showed him the kitchen, the living room, the at-home gym (which Beomgyu didn’t seem too interested in), and the separate bedroom that would permanently be Beomgyu’s.

Feel free to decorate however you’d like, Yeonjun had said politely. Beomgyu had politely nodded in return and went inside his room and started unpacking.

And after that? Well, Yeonjun had to go to work, and figured, if Beomgyu was old enough to get married, he’d be old enough to take care of himself.

(If Yeonjun was being honest, he would admit that he’d been avoiding Beomgyu too, that he’d been a little relieved at not seeing him for a while.)

Though now, as Yeonjun chops some mushrooms and bell peppers for his omelette, he wonders what Beomgyu’s been doing. Has he also been living life pretending like the wedding never happened?

It must be harder for him, considering the fact that he’s the one who had to move in with Yeonjun. It’s a nice place, classy and modern, but he’s sure it’s not home for Beomgyu.

But then again, it’s not like Beomgyu’s trapped here. He could easily go out and visit his parents or friends. Yeonjun doesn’t think he’s been lonely.

Has he?

Yeonjun frowns at the thought.

He wonders what Beomgyu has been eating. He’s barely here during the day, but he doesn’t remember ever seeing any dishes sitting in the sink nor does he see anything new in the fridge. Has he just been eating takeout then?

He racks his head to think of what he knows about Beomgyu’s eating preferences, but the only thing he can remember is Beomgyu’s mother jokingly apologizing to him, I’m sorry, sweetie, my baby is a picky eater. At that time, Yeonjun had just smiled mildly, unsure of how else to react. It sounded like a warning at first, but now he’s wondering if maybe her words held an underlying message.

He pauses chopping vegetables as something uncomfortable settles at the pit of his stomach. He washes his hands and names that uncomfortable something, guilt.

He doesn’t know much about Beomgyu. He definitely knows more things about Beomgyu’s family than Beomgyu himself. But they’d met a handful of times throughout the marriage arrangement process and Yeonjun’s impression of him had been good.

He had a kind face, offset by sharp eyes and a surprising lower-pitched voice. He was charming when spoken to and had even looked bright when Yeonjun saw him talking to his own parents. But he seemed more muted and quieter when they spoke to each other. Close with his family and closed off with strangers.

And now, Beomgyu was living with a stranger.

Said stranger should probably do something about this. Considering the past couple of weeks that has passed without said stranger doing anything, said stranger should probably do something about it now.

He stares at his vegetables and sighs. In any case, he figures it’s probably polite to ask your brand new husband if he’d like some breakfast too. It’s as good of a place as any to start.

He climbs the stairs to where their rooms are located and walks down the hallway to where Beomgyu’s room is. His hand briefly hesitates at his side, before pushing through and knocking on the door. Clearly, he calls out, “Beomgyu? Are you awake?”

He presses his ear against the door and tries to hear if there’s any movement—but nothing. He falters again, wondering if this is a sign he should just go on and let their situation be.

He doesn’t think he’s tried hard enough though, so he goes ahead, carefully turning the door knob and slowly peeking his head inside the room.

What strikes at him first is the vibrant color filling the room. When he had told Beomgyu to decorate freely, he didn’t imagine it would be to this extent.

There’s so much going on. Walls covered in artwork, plants sitting on shelves, and amidst all that was a computer setup Yeonjun has only seen owned by professional gamers.

Yeonjun tends to lean towards a more minimalist type of design, liking neutral palettes and clean lines. But there’s something to be said about the richness and personality brought into this room by no other than the person he finds still asleep in his bed.

He doesn't want to shake him awake, but he should at least ask the question and get an answer, right?

“Beomgyu,” He call-whispers, “Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu stirs but only slightly, and Yeonjun thinks that maybe it would be okay to tap him on the shoulder. So he does, and Beomgyu blearily opens his eyes, blinking fast before closing his eyes again.

Yeonjun is glad nobody else is here to witness him struggling to wake up his husband.

Before he can pat his shoulder again, Beomgyu mutters, “Weird dream.”

Yeonjun clears his throat, “Beomgyu?”

Beomgyu finally, finally opens his eyes, maybe seeing him for the first time, “Yeonjun-hyung? What are you doing here?”

“Um,” Yeonjun starts, “I was making breakfast and was wondering if you’d like some—” Yeonjun thinks the only thing Beomgyu would like right now is to go back to bed, “I’m making some omelette?”

“Eggs?” Beomgyu asks, rubbing his eyes, twisting his body to sit up.

“Yeah, eggs.” Yeonjun affirms.

“That would be nice,” Beomgyu says, though he looks like he’s in the middle of questioning his existence. Yeonjun too is regretting his existence. “I’ll come down in a bit.”

Moments later, Yeonjun finds himself in his kitchen whisking twice as many eggs as usual, while Beomgyu sits by the breakfast bar overlooking the kitchen. Beomgyu yawns, hand coming up to cover his mouth, before resting his chin on the palm of his hands.

Yeonjun guesses he’s not much of a morning person. He glances towards his coffee maker and wishes he had made more than his usual serving of one. In any case, he can make more, so he offers, “Would you like some coffee?”

Beomgyu blinks, remnants of sleep clinging to him like a blanket over his shoulders, “Oh, I don’t really drink coffee.”

“What do you usually drink in the morning?” Yeonjun asks. He thinks they might have an open container of milk, but he can’t remember when he last saw it. They for sure don’t have any juice, but they have some oranges that they could quickly juice—

“Tea,” Beomgyu says, “I drink tea, usually. With a spoonful of honey mixed in.”

Yeonjun opens a cabinet and frowns when he sees a small box of corn husk tea and no honey bear bottle to be seen. He turns to Beomgyu, apologetic, “I only have this kind and sugar, do you still want it?”

Beomgyu nods, “Yes, that’s fine.”

“Okay, I’ll get some hot water ready first.” Yeonjun busies himself by pouring water in a mug and then putting it in the microwave for a minute and a half. As he waits for the timer to go off, he tells Beomgyu, “Sorry, there’s not much. I typically just ask our housekeeper to get what I need—”

“It’s okay,” Beomgyu waves his concerns away, “I usually wake up too late to have breakfast anyway, and I like walking to this coffee shop nearby to buy it.”

Still, Yeonjun feels a tiny bit guilty, especially at how awkward this all feels. He can’t help but blame their...speedy engagement. The wedding had been thrown together quickly and it was all a blur in Yeonjun’s head. He knows it was a highly publicized event, but it felt like he was playing a part in a play or a movie. Smiling when he needed to, talking to far-flung relatives, trying to not to flinch at the cameras. It was exhausting, and his only memento from it was a ring and a brand new husband.

This is his own home and forgive him, but he did not want to play the part.

This awkwardness is the price of that, he guesses.

The microwave beeps, and Yeonjun takes the hot cup of water out. He rips open the packet of tea, dunking the tea bag in the water and watching the water slowly turn a light yellow-brown. He opens a cabinet by the stove and grabs a couple sugar cubes, throwing it into the brewing tea. He stirs and stirs until the sugar is all dissolved and sets the cup in front of Beomgyu.

“Here you go,” Yeonjun says, “Hope it’s a good enough stand-in for your usual.”

“Really, it’s fine,” Beomgyu says again, giving him a reassuring smile. Yeonjun wonders if this is how their marriage will be: one person apologizing and the other reassuring. An odd little thing where one offers an inch and the other refuses. Beomgyu holds the mug in his hand and he looks down at it with a softer smile, slow and sweet like the honey Yeonjun wishes he had. “Thank you for making it.”

It’s a little quiet after that. Yeonjun forges on and makes an omelette with practiced ease, while Beomgyu lets himself be woken up by tea he sips.

When the first omelette is done, he places it on a simple white ceramic plate and gives it to Beomgyu. “You want some ketchup?”

“Yes, please,” Beomgyu says, so Yeonjun gets that for him and utensils too while he’s at it. He gets a lovely, thank you, in return.

He watches him squeeze the ketchup bottle and draw a little smiley face on the side of his plate. Interesting, Yeonjun thinks. He thought Beomgyu would be the type of person to drizzle it all over. Beomgyu looks up and is surprised to have met Yeonjun’s eyes, “Oh, are you waiting for me to try it?”

Yeonjun scratches his head, the question making him feel even more awkward, “Er, yes. Just want to make sure it’s good.”

“Okay, okay,” Beomgyu says, picking a tiny piece off and dipping it in the ketchup, before eating it. He chews with thought and Yeonjun only releases the breath he’s been holding when Beomgyu gives an enthusiastic thumbs up.

Yeonjun gives him a smile back, very pleased with his reaction, and then finally sets off to make his own omelette.

It’s still a little bit quiet after that, and he finds that though it’s not uncomfortable, he wants to fill it with something more than the clanging of utensils on ceramic and eggs cooking on top of a pan. “Is that all your art on the walls of your bedroom?” Yeonjun asks, partly to break the silence and partly because he’s actually curious.

Beomgyu finishes chewing before answering, “Some of them are my friends’ and some are from other artists I’m a fan of. I don’t have any of mine displayed here.” Beomgyu looks up in thought, “I have a couple in my studio and my dad has one in his office. My Hyung said he wanted one.”

“Are you making one for him?” Yeonjun asks, trying to maintain eye contact while also flipping his omelette.

Beomgyu eyes his trouble, “I told him I’ll only make it if he pays me the market price.”

It pulls a sharp laugh out of him that surprises both of them.

Yeonjun covers his mouth briefly (and subtly he hopes). “Sorry,” he says, busying himself with transferring his omelette to a plate. “Your brother was really intimidating when I met him. It just seemed so funny to picture him being told that.”

“Don’t be intimidated by him, he’s just a loser,” Beomgyu sounds extremely amused. "I'm the cooler one."

Yeonjun thinks he’s probably the only one who can get away with telling such a big wig CEO that. When Beomgyu continues, he just sounds fond though, “He says he’s going to sell this drawing I made as a kid to my fans in retaliation.”

Yeonjun smiles, “It must be nice having an older brother.”

“It was alright,” Beomgyu shrugs. “Very happy he was born first though. What about you, Hyung? Isn’t being an only child much better?”

Yeonjun slices his omelette into pieces and gives only a brief answer, “It’s very much like being the first born. So...it’s alright, I guess.”

“I see…” Beomgyu says, leaning back into his seat and then they get lulled back into silence again. Yeonjun is thankful when Beomgyu changes the topic to something else, “Do you usually wake up this early?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, “I like to get up early, get a workout in, before doing some work.”

Beomgyu looks at him in horror, “You work on the weekends?”

He knows it’s not completely normal, that his friends are also appalled by his work schedule, but he has never felt as judged as he did now in front of Beomgyu, “...Yes. There’s a lot of stuff that needs to get done.”

“So you’re going to work today?” Beomgyu asks, like he still can’t believe it.

“Yes,” Yeonjun confirms, “I have a work dinner with some investors tonight, which is why I need to do some work today too. I need to prepare for it.”

“Wow,” Beomgyu says, impressed, but it doesn’t sound like it’s a good kind of impressed.

It is what it is, so he focuses on eating instead. For once, he doesn’t mind the awkward silence. He clears his plate fast and gulps down his coffee, which has cooled down unlike the embarrassment he feels.

I’m an adult and I’ve been doing this for years, he thinks as he places his plate in the sink, why am I suddenly embarrassed by my own choices?

When he turns to Beomgyu, he sees that he’s only half way through his omelette. It would be weird if he just left him here, right? He holds back a sigh realizing he can’t quite escape this one. He’ll just have to sip his coffee in silence until Beomgyu’s done eating too.

Beomgyu eats like a little bird. Yeonjun wonders if he’s the type of person who would enjoy those tasting courses, where you get ten different dishes, but the portions are all smaller than a baby’s fist.

“I read this article written about you once,” Beomgyu says suddenly and Yeonjun almost chokes on his coffee, “You’ve read articles about me?”

“Oh, should I not have told you?” Beomgyu smiles, “Okay, pretend I didn’t say that.”

Yeonjun stammers, “You can’t just say that and then take it back. What did you read?”

Yeonjun knows he’s been on the news, but they’re mostly business-related, he thinks. Still, he can’t be too sure what’s out there. He suddenly regrets declining all those meetings with his Head of Communications to monitor the press he’s getting.

Beomgyu waves his hand, “They only said positive things, actually. Just that you work really hard and now I guess that’s true. Which….” Beomgyu’s voice goes low and careful, “isn’t a knock or anything. Haven’t heard of a chaebol who works hard in years. I’m just amazed at how hard you work.”

The reassurance comes as a surprise too, which means all Yeonjun can do is shake it off, slightly pleased and slightly embarrassed again.

They talk a little bit more after that, more on things unrelated to work or families which both weigh heavy. A fact Yeonjun shouldn’t be surprised at. This arranged marriage is of the influence of both, after all.

Though he thinks neither of them seem to be bitter at each other about that. After Yeonjun gets past the awkwardness, he realizes Beomgyu is nice and easy to talk to. A surprising addition to his morning routine that sweetens the coffee he drinks.

Later when Beomgyu is finished eating and Yeonjun is washing the dishes, he decides that Beomgyu is too nice for Yeonjun to have been ignoring him this whole time. Maybe that’s what makes him say it. Or maybe it’s just the way Beomgyu’s made a home out of his room, decorating it to his heart’s content, coupled with the way the rest of the house looks, untouched.

But say it he does, “If you want to redecorate the rest of the condo, you can. I realize that everything’s up to my taste and I have zero idea of what you like, so if you wanted to change things up a little—just so you can feel more comfortable, feel free.”

Beomgyu’s eyes widen, “Like the whole place?”

“I mean,” Yeonjun busies himself with the dishes, embarrassed at the way all of that just came stumbling out. Clumsy, clumsy. “Just let me know before you do anything drastic. I come home so late that I might think I entered the wrong house if you do it without telling me.”

“Oh, thank you, thank you!” Beomgyu cheers, excitedly going over to him to give him a quick hug. He lets go too fast for Yeonjun to even think about returning it.

It’s fine, Yeonjun thinks, his hands were also wet. He couldn’t have hugged him even if it lasted longer than the second that it did. Beomgyu chatters on, “It’s your place, so I didn’t want to be presumptuous. And I wasn’t sure how married you were to the style—”

“We’re married,” Yeonjun softly reminds, looking at his own wedding ring covered in suds, “It’s your place now too.”

Beomgyu sighs and when he speaks, his words sound like they are buoyed by air, “You’re right. But still—it doesn’t change the fact that this is arranged and that we’re two strangers in each other’s spaces. You have your boundaries, as do I.”

“That’s kind of you,” Yeonjun says, because it is. People of their kind came in every color of entitled. Beomgyu could have put up more of a fuss. Beomgyu could have demanded for more. Beomgyu could have been so cold, but he’s so warm—Yeonjun still feels it from where Beomgyu hugged him.

“It’s not kind,” Beomgyu corrects from behind him, “It’s just basic respect. One that you’ve extended to me from the very beginning. You know what’s kind?”

Yeonjun doesn’t understand how his avoidant behavior has been interpreted as respectful, but he will not correct Beomgyu on that. Yeonjun turns and is met with Beomgyu’s teasing smile, “What?”

“Sharing your breakfast with me,” Beomgyu says, and at that Yeonjun is ready to say the same thing. That it’s just basic respect to offer food, especially to someone who he’s been living with for the past couple of weeks, someone he’s married to. Beomgyu makes another comment before Yeonjun can say that though, “Also, I was looking around in the cupboards. It’s pretty bare. Do you only eat eggs in the morning?”

“I like eggs,” Yeonjun frowns.

Beomgyu’s mouth presses into a thin line, “What about pancakes? Or waffles? French toast?”

Yeonjun feels like he’s about to get made fun of but responds anyway, “Sweets aren’t good for you in the morning.”

“But do you like them?” Beomgyu prods.

“It’s a lot of work and it’s kind of wasteful to make them just for myself,” Yeonjun says, though at Beomgyu’s narrowed eyes, he adds, “But I do like them.”

Beomgyu sighs, dramatic in his relief, “Oh thank god. I was about to divorce you and cite irreconcilable differences.”

“Divorce just because of that?” Yeonjun gapes at him.

“If you learn anything about me today, husband,” Beomgyu says, putting a finger up, “it should be this: my love for sweets knows no bounds.”

“I’ll make sure to never forget,” Yeonjun jokes, ignoring the way something in him stirs at hearing Beomgyu calling him husband.

And although Yeonjun had joked about it, a part of him is filing the information away, the same way he has been doing about all the things he’s learning about Beomgyu today. So far this is what he has:

He is an artist and that reflects in his taste in decor;

He eats food in such small bites, it probably takes him ages to finish eating;

He loves his sweets, enough to criticize Yeonjun’s own taste in breakfast foods;

Based on these three things alone, Yeonjun feels that their parents may have put together two completely different people and thrown them into a marriage, all for economic gain. And yet—in spite of all of that, he feels oddly positive for the first time about this marriage.

And it’s for this one last thing Yeonjun’s learned about Beomgyu today:

Despite what Beomgyu says, he’s kind.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

It turns out Beomgyu is also a man of action.

Not too long after their conversation, Beomgyu is quick to send him pictures of furniture or decor that he wanted to have in his house—their house, Yeonjun should say.

The first time Yeonjun receives a message of the sort from Beomgyu, it was a large Birds of Paradise plant he wanted installed in the living room. Yeonjun didn’t see anything wrong with it, thinks it’ll probably liven up the house and purify the air, and so he gives him the go ahead.

The second request comes a couple days later with a picture of a red patterned rug that came with a long message about its background, place of origin, how it was handmade by a family in Russia that specialized in textiles, etc. He reads through it and realizes all he really cares about is that it’s beautiful. He gives Beomgyu the green light.

The third request comes only a couple hours later and this time, it was about the shoe case by their door. The one they currently had was too small to contain Beomgyu’s shoe collection too. It’s a fair complaint, Yeonjun thinks, and the storage cabinets Beomgyu had sent were white and sleek and would look nice by their door. Yeonjun gives him his approval for that too.

And it seems like Beomgyu is either super bored or super invested in remaking their house, for the requests keep on coming. While Yeonjun likes seeing what Beomgyu wants to add and appreciates how he asks for consent every time, he soon realizes a couple things:

He’s been saying yes to every single one of Beomgyu’s requests. He finds that he likes Beomgyu’s taste even if it doesn’t necessarily align with his more minimalist preferences. And because he trusts Beomgyu’s style, he’s certain that he’ll keep saying yes to his future furniture change requests.

It also means this other thing, one that was becoming more evident every time he came back to the house and seeing the changes come to life. He realizes that he doesn’t really have a strong attachment to how his house had looked before. He feels no loss at seeing the old furniture gone. How could he, when he was barely there?

And so, he tells Beomgyu to go ahead and stop asking him, which still prompts Beomgyu to double-check and make sure he’s really okay with it. He even finds it somewhere in him to joke: it will be a nice surprise for me to come home to.

It is nice to come home to, though it’s not something he truly appreciates until he’s about to make breakfast during the weekend. He’s gathering his ingredients and is about to ask Beomgyu if he wanted breakfast too, when he finally pauses for a moment to stand in their living room.

The first thing he notices is that it’s warm. The colors, he means.

The white walls from before were now covered in framed art, the cold marble floor in rugs, and the plants—the plants were green and brown and housed in wooden rattan baskets. Some hang from the ceiling. Some sit by the window sills.

He isn’t completely surprised by the presence of everything new, but it’s the first time he’s seeing them in the light. Not in a rush to leave, not in a rush to sleep.

It’s beautiful. Not unlike Beomgyu’s room.

He should tell Beomgyu he likes it. Compliments to the interior designer and all that. It’s with that thought that brings him back to his original goal of waking Beomgyu up.

He climbs up the stairs and knocks on his door. Hearing no response, he quietly opens the door and peeks in, discovering that Beomgyu was still fast asleep. Just exactly like last time.

Yeonjun clears his throat and calls out, “Beomgyu?”

When Beomgyu doesn’t stir, he calls out again, this time louder, “Beomgyu? Do you want breakfast?”

At the word breakfast, Beomgyu’s eyes open suddenly. It reminds Yeonjun of those creepy horror movies where someone you hope doesn’t wake up wakes up and catches you watching him. Not that that was the case here. It was just sudden, that’s all.

“Breakfast?” Beomgyu mutters, groggily rubbing his eyes.

“Yes,” Yeonjun repeats, “Did you want some of the omelette I was making?”

“Omelette…” Beomgyu trails off, before sitting up in a rush, looking more alive than he did a second ago, “Wait! Did you start making it already?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, watching as Beomgyu pulls a cardigan off a chair and pulls it on. His hair looked fluffy and some strands were even sticking up.

“I,” Beomgyu says, running a hand through his hair, “bought something for breakfast. Can I just wash my face and brush my teeth really quick?”

Yeonjun nods, “Sure. I’ll meet you downstairs?”

“Yeah.”

When they are finally gathered together in the kitchen, Yeonjun watches as Beomgyu pulls out something from a cupboard under their countertops.

“Is that a bear—?”

“It’s a waffle maker!” Beomgyu shows him excitedly, opening it up to reveal a bear mold. “Isn’t it cute? This way, we can try making waffles, right? And it’ll be easier because there will be two of us making it, right?”

Yeonjun briefly glances over at the eggs and vegetables he had previously set out for his usual breakfast omelette. Then, he glances back at the shining eyes staring at him filled with so much hope.

Yeonjun scratches his neck, “I don’t actually know how to make waffles. I don’t know if we have the ingredients at all.”

“We do have all the ingredients,” Beomgyu says, full of confidence. “I asked our housekeeper to add the ingredients to your usual grocery list. And I have a recipe, so we can easily follow that.”

Yeonjun blinks, “You did?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, patting himself on the back, “I thought of everything already. So...can we make waffles for breakfast, Hyung?”

How is Yeonjun supposed to say no when Beomgyu’s made it all come together so easily? How is he supposed to say no to those eyes?

So he makes the goddamn bear waffles—which isn’t as angry as it sounds.

Though he certainly feels something akin to rage as he watches Beomgyu concentrate putting the batter in the bear mold, how his brows furrowed as he closes the waffle maker, and the subsequent delight on his face when he opens the waffle maker and the cutesy-cartoonish face of a bear in waffle form smiles at him.

“Crazy,” Beomgyu shakes his head, “How can something be so cute?”

Yeah, Yeonjun agrees, hands tightening to fists by his side, how can something be so cute?

Unfortunately for Yeonjun, this begins the end of his omelette breakfast routine. Sure, Yeonjun could simply insist on having his way, that they don’t have to cook and eat breakfast together. But he’s honestly not too fussed about it. It’s surprisingly nice eating breakfast with someone.

And eating breakfast with Beomgyu is especially nice.

He doesn’t know if it’s just because Beomgyu is more comfortable with him now or if he’s always been like this, but Beomgyu is so much more talkative than he initially thought. He asks so many questions. And maybe Yeonjun is more comfortable now too, because he finds himself less awkward and more open to answering these questions.

Beomgyu asks him about things like his university experience, favourite color, and what country he’d like to visit (American, purple, Iceland).

Yeonjun doesn’t remember the last time he’s been asked such silly things and answering them feels like a rediscovery of himself in itself.

Yeonjun asks him questions too, things like burgers vs. pizza, favourite season, and his favorite movie (burgers, spring, Kimi no nawa).

Hanging out with Beomgyu feels so much like that moment when you’re with someone new and you’re pleasantly surprised at how well you’re getting along together. Yeonjun thinks they might even become good friends someday.

As Yeonjun is throwing their trash in the bins, he’s reminded again of a question he’s been meaning to ask Beomgyu. He figures now is a good time to ask.

“I’ve been wondering,” Yeonjun starts, and from the corner of his eyes, he can see Beomgyu leaning in interest. “What do you usually do for dinner?”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, pausing. He leans back into his seat with a shrug, “I usually just go over to my friends’ for dinner.”

Yeonjun raises a brow, “You don’t cook? Or get takeout?”

“I can cook,” Beomgyu says, and his mouth twists for the oncoming but, “I just don’t want to. It’s always too much for one person to manage and eat. And it’s more fun to eat with my friends.”

Yeonjun feels something heavy settle in him with those words. He stares at Beomgyu, who’s tracing patterns on the wooden surface of their dining table. His lashes cast shadows on his cheek, and there’s a dark, quiet thing that lives in his expression—one that Yeonjun is barely getting acquainted with.

“I see,” Yeonjun says, unsure of what else to say.

“Yeah,” Beomgyu lightly laughs, “I guess now that I think about it. I rarely ever eat here.”

Yeonjun nods, struggling to say something, anything to not let the lovely mood of this morning sour.

Beomgyu’s eyes flicker towards him, before flitting away again as he says, “I don’t really like eating alone.”

He can read between the lines. Yeonjun is never home for dinner. He comes home way too late on the weekdays, and on the weekends, he’s out having work-related dinners with potential business partners.

“You could invite your friends over,” Yeonjun says, hoping it helps. “That way you wouldn’t have to eat alone nor would you have to leave the house.”

“That’s true, I could do that…'' Beomgyu nods, looking like he’s holding his breath. “Or—”

“Or?”

“You could also come home for dinner,” Beomgyu says.

“You want me to?” Yeonjun asks, wondering if he’s heard him correctly.

“Yes,” Beomgyu insists, though he hurriedly follows it up, “Not that I’m demanding you or anything, I understand that you have a lot of work to do, and that it might not be feasible—”

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says, though his mind is still stuck on the fact that Beomgyu wants him home for dinner. The idea of it fills him completely. He finds himself saying yes, without thinking too much about the why’s, “I can do it. I can eat here and then finish any work I have after.”

Beomgyu’s frowns, “Are you sure? I don’t want to be bothersome— “

Yeonjun shakes his head, “You’re not. I wouldn’t do anything that I didn’t want to.”

That seems to finally put Beomgyu at ease, a pleased smile growing on his face, “Okay, good. I’m glad.”

There’s something in him that lights up at fulfilling Beomgyu’s request, which has him ready to lament the fact that he’s a people pleaser to the core.

But there’s something to be said about being wanted this way, which is wholly different from what’s typically required from him. This isn’t about a deadline at work. This isn’t to fulfill some new milestone of his parent’s dream.

This is about Beomgyu wanting his company for dinner.

And it just so happens that Yeonjun enjoys his company too. It feels less like he’s fulfilling a request and more like he’s getting an opportunity to get more of these bright little moments shared over food.

Considering his life: he has his routine; he has his friends; he has this blessed life full of material wealth; and all of it paints a perfect picture of contentment. In that regard, he has everything he should want and enough money to buy him the freedom of doing anything he wants to.

Despite that, his life is carefully crafted, guided by grey lines of what he should and shouldn’t do. This invitation to dinner falls into something he should certainly do, which is to spend more time with his husband.

But it doesn’t feel that way. It just feels like something he wants to do.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Nevertheless, going home for dinner shouldn’t feel like such a big deal.

But it does and he blames his office for it.

Yeji, his executive assistant, is the first to make a big deal out of it. At first, she doesn’t even believe him when he tells her he doesn’t need her to order him dinner.

“Did you set up a dinner meeting out of the blue?” Yeji asks, fingers moving fast on her keyboard as she checks his schedule. “I don’t see anything on here.”

“No,” Yeonjun clarifies, “I’m eating dinner at home.”

Yeji looks like he just told her the Earth was flat and then her expression clears, “Ah, were you going to work at home instead? A change of scenery is a good idea, boss—”

“No,” Yeonjun says, getting slightly annoyed, “I’m eating dinner with my husband.”

Yeji’s fingers have stopped typing and she’s now squinting at him, “You haven’t been kidnapped and replaced, right?”

“No,” Yeonjun says, tone taking a hint of finality. He knows he should just walk away and act unphased, but he falters, “It’s not a big deal, okay?”

Yeji raises her hand in surrender, “Sure, boss. It’s not a big deal,” though her tone clearly suggests it is.

He doesn’t even want to tell her that he’s planning on doing this from now on.

Nobody else says anything about it throughout the day, but he gets a lot of stares. He loves his team and he shares a much more friendlier relationship with them than a typical division head would, but he needs people to mind their own business. He knows word gets around here quick, but why should his evening plans be the gossip of the day?

Even the guards on his way out are surprised when they see him walk out.

Okay, Yeonjun knows he works late, but going home once to eat dinner with his husband should not be garnering this much attention.

His annoyance melts away as he drives home though, his mind drifting off to dinner.

Beomgyu had texted him earlier to ask what he wanted and Yeonjun had said that he didn’t really mind anything. Beomgyu responded back saying, pick a menu anyway, so Yeonjun, who often thought of homecooked dinners as impersonal, said, I don’t know. Something Korean. Soup maybe?

Beomgyu sent him the rolling eyes emoji and said, i’ll figure it out.

He’s glad he knows Beomgyu a little better now. He’s an expressive texter who is very enthusiastic about his emoji usage, which is how Yeonjun knows he’s being playful and not really annoyed about how vague he’s being about dinner.

It’s hard for him to decide. Yeji usually picks out his dinner menu for the night, and he doesn’t know what Beomgyu typically likes to eat.

He frowns at the thought as he parks the car in his assigned parking spot. He makes a mental note to ask Beomgyu later.

When he steps into their condo, he’s hit by the savory smell of food, though he can’t quite pinpoint what’s giving off that smell. All he knows is that it smells good.

“Yeonjun-hyung?” comes from a Beomgyu who skids to a stop by their entry way. His hair’s a mess and he’s got a red stain on the white shirt he’s wearing, which also matches the red stain on his house slippers.

“Hey,” Yeonjun greets as he’s taking off his shoes to switch to his own house slippers. “You okay?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu answers firmly, though his expression looks worried when he turns to look at the kitchen. “Dinner is also okay.”

Yeonjun eyes the red stain again and asks, “Were you cooking?”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “Nope. I am a terrible cook. Shame on my mother for that, who is also a terrible cook, by the way. Which I guess you’ll also learn when she forces us to have dinner at my house. Anyway,” Beomgyu huffs, his bangs fluffing up into the air, “I got us something better. I asked my house’s chef to make us something. And I got this stain because I accidentally spilled some of the soup on me when I was transferring it over into the pot.”

Beomgyu claps his hands, “Are you hungry? Did you want to shower and get changed first? I can keep the food hot on the stove if you want to do that first. But I’m also kind of hungry—”

He’s nervous, Yeonjun realizes. He rambles when he’s nervous. It’s something he notes and files away to a part of his brain that’s slowly getting covered with post-it notes on little Beomgyu-isms.

“Well, if you’re hungry,” Yeonjun cuts in with his best smile, “Let me just put my stuff down and I’ll help you set up. I’m pretty hungry too.”

Something in Beomgyu settles and the worry parts like clouds giving way for his bright smile to beam through. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Beomgyu waits for him by the foot of the stairs as he drops off his blazer, takes off his tie, and tucks his briefcase in his room. And when he’s done, they gather together in the kitchen and Yeonjun finally sees what’s for dinner tonight.

“Oh!” Yeonjun says, pleased, “I like soft tofu soup.”

He grabs the pot by its handles and brings it over to the table, while Beomgyu stands by their fridge to take out different tupperwares filled with side dishes. “You do?” Beomgyu asks, “Do you like it with beef or seafood?”

“I actually like it with dumplings the most,” Yeonjun says.

“I like it with dumplings too,” Beomgyu walks over, excited at the discovery. As he’s setting down the different tupperwares, Yeonjun helps him out by opening them one by one. “Do you like it mixed in with the soup already or—”

“To the side to be dipped in?” Yeonjun laughs, when Beomgyu nods with so much enthusiasm, “It’s better that way, because then it doesn’t get soggy.”

Beomgyu smiles, looking very much pleased at their discovery. “There’s some hope for you, Hyung. Your eggs for breakfast habits really made me worry for a bit, but you have some taste.”

Yeonjun lets the comment slide, focusing instead on getting some of the broth with his spoon and cautiously taking a sip. He sighs at the taste, “This is good.”

“Worth-coming-home-for-dinner type of good?” Beomgyu cheekily asks, as he starts eating as well.

Yeonjun glances at him, but Beomgyu’s eyes are already focused on somewhere else. Yeonjun doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with being honest, “Well, yes. Homemade food is unbeatable versus take out.”

Beomgyu hums, sipping soup before he responds, “Yes, that’s true. Though I think the magic of coming home for dinner is getting to eat with people.” He points to the hot pot of soft tofu soup, “There’s multiple benefits, I think, first, I can’t really finish a pot of anything. So that usually means I have to eat leftovers again and again. But with you here, we can finish this together and then! I can eat something else tomorrow.”

“Well, if you usually don’t eat here anyway, wouldn’t you eat something different with someone else?” Yeonjun asks.

“I’d bring the food to my friend’s house,” Beomgyu says, “They like free food anyway. I usually pay when I eat with them. Although, if somebody else ate from this pot already…” Beomgyu trails off, “They really wouldn’t eat it.”

“You could just not tell them,” Yeonjun says, which Beomgyu gasps dramatically at. “What a sneaky answer. As expected from my corporate husband.”

Husband, there’s that word again that makes him feel like he’s getting heartburn of some sort. He reaches for some water and tries not to obviously down it.

Yeonjun is clearly not subtle enough, because Beomgyu unflinchingly comments on it right after, “Is it weird being called husband?”

“It’s...not weird,” Yeonjun tries to say, but when Beomgyu raises a brow, he sighs, “It’s a little weird, if I’m being honest. But I don’t think it’s a bad weird? Just something to get used to, I guess.” He does wonder if he should be this honest, but he figures honesty is a good place to start in building something with someone.

How can they even be friends if all Yeonjun does is lie and placate, right?

Beomgyu nods slowly, chews his food even slower. All that being said about honesty, it still makes Yeonjun apprehensive to hear what Beomgyu has to say about it.

When Beomgyu stays quiet, Yeonjun prods, “What about you? Is this weird for you at all? You’re younger than me, did you expect to be married this early?”

“It all happened so fast, didn’t it?” Beomgyu leans back in his seat, crossing his arms in front of his chest. Yeonjun nods, though Beomgyu isn’t even looking at him. Just staring at a space far out of reach. “I was surprised. My parents have always given me a lot of space to do whatever I want as long as it makes me happy, and since I was the second child, I didn’t really think they’d offer this to me. Although a part of me has always expected it…”

Beomgyu sighs, “Marriage feels like such a big word for what this is.”

Yeonjun gets that. It’s like getting shoes that are too big. They can’t fill it.

“But at least, they let me choose who I got to marry, even if it’s from a pre-selected batch. That way, it feels a little bit like it’s a choice I made,” Beomgyu smiles, finally looking over at him. That smile quickly turns into a frown, though, “Oh, sorry, should I not tell you about stuff like this?”

He wonders what face he was making to inspire those words. Probably not a good one. Yeonjun immediately schools his face into something reassuring, “No, it’s fine. I just thought your parents and my parents got together and decided on it.”

“Nah,” Beomgyu thankfully doesn’t comment further and accepts his words with a nod. He even makes a half-hearted joke, “It was only half-forced.”

Yeonjun clutches on to the joke and says, also half-hearted, “Well, I hope choosing me doesn’t disappoint you.”

“Well,” Beomgyu says, airily, “It’s too early to tell, isn’t it?”

It feels like a challenge or maybe even an invitation, one that Yeonjun feels compelled to take. But he’s not ready for it, not until he unpacks all the implications of Beomgyu choosing him over all the other matches and not until he gets comfortable with the fact that he didn’t get the same choice.

For now, Yeonjun tries to match Beomgyu’s words, leaning back into his seat, and shrugs, “I guess only time will tell.”

When dinner is done, Yeonjun offers to clean everything, since Beomgyu already got dinner together. Beomgyu protests, “I can do it! I didn’t really do much today, when I’m sure you’ve been busy with work all day.”

“It’s fine,” Yeonjun waves him away, “This won’t take that long.” He notices the red stain again on Beomgyu’s shirt, “You should go and put that in the wash instead. If you wait too long, it’ll be hard to get that out.”

Beomgyu pouts, “You’re more stubborn than I thought you’d be. Fine.”

“Yes, I am,” Yeonjun smiles. “Go on, I got this.”

He starts putting all their used dishes by the sink, getting ready to wash them all one by one. Beomgyu lingers for a little bit more and Yeonjun sighs, putting his hands on his hips, “Do you not trust me?”

“It’s not that,” Beomgyu says, looking a bit shy with his hands clasped together in front of him, “I guess...I just wanted to say thank you for coming home for dinner. I’m sure it was hard to move stuff around in your schedule, since you’re usually super busy around this time. I really, really appreciate it.”

Oh, Yeonjun feels himself turn pink at that. He focuses instead on rolling his sleeves up, unable to look at him, “It’s nothing. You don’t have to thank me for this at all. The food was good and I think it’s good that we’re spending time getting to know each other.”

“Still,” Beomgyu insists, “You didn’t have to. You could’ve said no. So, I’m still grateful. I think it was nice too. I’ll leave you to it, I’m sure you want to rest or finish other things you couldn’t today. Have a good night.”

Yeonjun smiles softly and with a parting glance, says, “You too. Have a good night.”

Beomgyu finally leaves and Yeonjun begins washing the dishes. He hasn’t had to clean this much in a while, but it’s not a lie when he told Beomgyu it wasn’t a big deal. There’s also something nice about mindlessly doing the dishes.

He begins throwing the food scraps in the trash and opens their trash can up, so he can easily do it for all the dishes.

That’s when he notices that there’s more trash there than what he expected. There’s more thrown food there and an empty packet of tofu.

Did Beomgyu cook himself lunch?

He looks at their dish rack and notes that there’s more cooking wares drying there, like cutting boards, knives, and even pots.

Maybe Beomgyu’s chef cooked here? Though it wouldn’t make sense considering Beomgyu specifically said he got that red stain from transferring the soup into the pot.

He opens up their fridge and notes that there’s more produce in there than he expected too. It really doesn’t make sense considering Beomgyu never eats here—

Oh, Yeonjun realizes. The red stain on his shirt and slippers. The numerous dishes. The food thrown away in the trash. The frazzled nervous look Beomgyu wore when Yeonjun first came home.

Beomgyu must have tried to cook dinner.

The realization stuns him until it sinks in fully and melts his brain. It hits him now, how nice Beomgyu is to try to do this, how important he must have considered this dinner to make it special like this, and it only underscores his words of gratitude from earlier.

All Yeonjun did was come home and eat.

It’s touching, and even if Beomgyu failed at it, Yeonjun appreciates it to the point he wants to say something. He knows he shouldn’t though. It might only embarrass Beomgyu.

He’ll just have to do something differently, he resolves. He’ll have to try harder too.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

The thing about trying harder—Yeonjun doesn't actually know where to start. It's terrible, he knows, that he doesn't even know the most basic things about Beomgyu, but it is what it is. Problems don't get solved by dwelling in the past.

The great thing is he does know people who can help him figure out where to start. And they're here knocking on his office door.

"Come in," Yeonjun calls out, relaxing against his chair, and smiles brightly when the Heads of their division's Communications and Creative Design departments (Soobin and Kai, respectively) walk in.

"What's up, what's up," Soobin says, in a matter so befitting his position, "What's this meeting for?"

"Is everything okay?" Kai says, taking a seat. "My secretary said it was high-priority, but couldn't tell me what the meeting was going to be about."

"Everything's fine," Yeonjun says, gesturing for Soobin to take a seat too. "I just need both of your help with something."

Soobin crosses his arms in front of his chest and nods at him, "What do you need?"

"Anything, Hyung," Kai says, looking at him so earnestly.

Yeonjun knew he could trust his friends. "Okay, I need you to tell me everything you know about Choi Beomgyu."

"Huh?" Kai's earnest expression drops so fast it's almost comical, "Choi Beomgyu, your husband?"

Meanwhile, Soobin is almost too giddy, "What do you want to know? This is great actually. I thought this was going to be a serious conversation, now I can waste a whole hour doing nothing."

"This is serious!" Yeonjun turns his desktop monitor around to show the Naver search page results for Choi Beomgyu. "This barely tells me anything important."

"Why are you searching for him like you would a fun fact on the internet? What did you think you'd find?" Soobin criticizes from the get go. "You know he's a relatively famous artist, right?"

"How famous?" Yeonjun asks, pulling out his notebook.

"Are you taking notes..." Kai asks.

Yeonjun shrugs, "I might as well. What if I forget?"

Kai looks doubtful, "Considering the intense look in your eyes right now, I think you're recording this memory in your brain in HD."

Soobin clears his throat, "Anyway, pay attention. He's pretty famous among people our age, because this one idol became really interested in his work. If you look at Instagram, you'll see people tagging his account when they visit his work at a museum."

Yeonjun pulls up his phone, "What's his account name? I need to see this."

"I'm offended on his behalf. How do you not follow your own husband on Instagram?" Kai grabs his phone and searches for him. "There," He says, handing the phone back. "Please don't accidentally like a photo, I think I'll die from embarrassment."

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, "I know that. I'm not an Instagram noob."

"Hyung," Soobin says, "You write your captions like a Corporate account. Which is funny because your photos are so pure and cute."

"I do not write my captions like a Corporate account. You write your captions like a Corporate account," Yeonjun retorts and ignores whatever more Soobin has to say on the topic. He's so childish.

The first thing that stands out to him about Beomgyu's instagram account is the huge amount of followers he has. Soobin wasn't kidding when he said he's pretty famous.

The second thing that stands out to him is that there really isn't that much of Beomgyu's art on his page. "I thought you said people were interested in his work. I don't really see much of it here?"

Kai shares a look with Soobin, that telepathic one where Yeonjun knows a full-blown conversation is happening just with their eyes. Kai sighs turning back to Yeonjun, "Well, Beomgyu-hyung is also popular for another reason."

"What? Say it. Is it bad?" Yeonjun asks.

"I don't think it's bad..." Soobin trails off, "One might even say...you really lucked out."

"Spit it out," Yeonjun demands, losing patience.

"He's hot," Kai says, plainly. He pulls up his own phone, where he opens the app and clicks on a post. "Look at him. He's an ulzzang. His outfits are always nice when he posts. He trended once because people connected that someone this good-looking was the same person making his works. I remember the top comments were like, wah, amazing, how can someone be good-looking, talented and rich," Kai imitates in a high-pitched voice, "whoever marries him will hit the jackpot."

"I guess that's you," Soobin says, reaching over and patting his shoulder. "Congrats, you hit the jackpot."

Yeonjun is scrolling through the posts and he can see what they're saying is true. He eyes this one post where Beomgyu is winking at the camera, while wearing a headband with cute teddy bear ears. People are definitely not following him for the art. "This is....very informational but still not very helpful? I want to know important things."

"Like what?" Soobin is unimpressed, "Are you saying finding out your husband is hot and internet-famous is not an important fact? Or do you not care because you’re already married to him—"

"I'm not really thinking about his looks. That's not my focus anyway, and I'm not interested in that." Yeonjun stresses, "I want to have a good relationship with him. I really think that we could be good friends at the end of this."

"Oh," Kai scratches his cheek, "Are you not even considering the romantic possibility?"

"I am not presuming the possibility," Yeonjun says instead. "It's an arranged marriage, not a love marriage. It's a partnership, but it doesn't mean we have to be cold to each other. I like him. He's nice."

Soobin raises a brow at that, but doesn't comment on it. Instead he says, "Well, honestly, Hyung. I don't think the best way to do this is by stalking him on the internet. Just continue spending time with him. I don't see how this is different from making a new friend."

"Except for the fact that they're married," Kai couldn't help but say. Soobin swats at his shoulder, "Stop ruining my point!"

"I think that's the hard part," Yeonjun confesses, "We haven't really been seeing each other much, because, you know, work. It's been better recently, but he did something nice the other night, and I really would just like to do something nice in return? But I wasn't sure what would be nice."

"Well, maybe just listen to what he says. Keep getting to know each other. You'll figure something out. You said it's been better recently, right?" Soobin asks.

Yeonjun nods, "Yeah."

"Then whatever thing you started doing, just keep doing it. You can be nice too, Hyung." Soobin smiles and ducks before Yeonjun’s hand could hit him.

"I am nice!" Yeonjun huffs. "Anyway, that's helpful, I guess."

Kai says, "You're welcome? But I agree with Soobin-hyung. The best person to ask is the one who's already by your side. Let us know how it goes."

"I doubt he'll tell us," Soobin snorts. They stand up and Soobin throws an arm around Kai's shoulder, "But don't worry. If it's something big, the whole office gossip will get to us at some point. If anything, Yeji will tell me if I bribe her."

"Get out," Yeonjun rolls his eyes. If they stay any longer, Yeonjun will keep rolling his eyes and then he'll have done it enough that they might consider falling out and onto the floor. "Meeting adjourned."

Before Soobin leaves though, he gets the last word in, "Also, Hyung. It's really embarrassing that you would search him up on Linkedin. First of all, he's not even a business person like us. Second of all, no—"

Kai pulls Soobin out of Yeonjun's office, before Yeonjun can consider throwing something at him. Kai gives him a sheepish smile and waves as closes the door behind him.

Yeonjun sighs, suddenly feeling tired after being harrassed by those two. Maybe he was wrong to ask them. Maybe his friends are untrustworthy creatures who only wish for his downfall.

He closes the Linkedin tab anyway (Soobin is right, but he doesn't need the satisfaction of knowing that.)

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

He ends up following his friends’ advice though, because as much as they like to make fun of him, they are trustworthy creatures who only wish the best for him.

It’s not advice he can complain about either.

Yeonjun doesn’t have the fondest memories of dinners at home, which was the only time his family ate together. His father often left early for work, while his mother got up late and when she woke, she’d often go out and socialize with her friends. Dinners were just dinners. That is to say, Yeonjun was only there to eat food.

His father was the quiet type and only spoke about work. His mother was the talkative one, and the conversation was almost often about what their neighbor was doing or what one of her friends was doing. Later, when he was much older, he’d realize she was almost always talking about work too. Business. What was happening in the inner circles of their friends greatly affected business, and his mother took care to know the ins and outs of it all.

Sometimes, they would ask Yeonjun how his studies were doing, which was a question he hated getting. They only wanted to hear one answer and that answer was: great. It was never about what he felt about it or what he did with his day. It was a status update; a quick check that he was keeping up with their standards.

When he stopped being a child and moved to the States for university, he felt great relief at escaping these dinners. And even when he moved back home and got his own place, these dinners were rare.

Dinners with Beomgyu are very much different from those dinners though. Just like breakfast with Beomgyu, dinners with Beomgyu are very nice.

Because of work, he doesn’t really get to help with preparing much of it (not that Beomgyu does either, aside from heating it up), but he’s become the designated dinner menu chooser.

Beomgyu always asks him what he wants to eat. He genuinely doesn’t care and is happy to eat whatever Beomgyu wants to eat, but Beomgyu wouldn’t accept it when he told him that. Beomgyu complained that he couldn’t decide either and if Yeonjun didn't decide, Beomgyu threatened, they’ll eat air for dinner.

So Yeonjun humors him. It’s a little time waster of an activity. He’s tempted to ask Yeji for his typical dinner menu, but he finds that choosing it himself means that his anticipation for dinner increases.

Though the food is not the only thing he finds himself looking forward to.

Beomgyu makes dinner exciting. He always greets Yeonjun enthusiastically when he gets home, and it makes such a big difference. He’s not used to someone waiting for him to get home. He’s not used to someone caring that he’s home.

It’s not just that. It’s also the fact that they get to have meaningful conversations together during dinner. Beomgyu, as he continuously learns, is someone that has a lot to say, but he’s surprisingly also a good listener. Like when he asks Yeonjun about his day at work, he doesn’t look like he expects Yeonjun to say a certain thing. He genuinely just wants to know.

It makes him want to spend more time with Beomgyu, to the point where he’s starting to dislike the fact that he keeps bringing work home. It’s something he’s never liked anyway, which is why he often just ate dinner at work and continued to work from there.

These days, they eat dinner together and go their separate ways. Beomgyu, from what Yeonjun can hear from his room, often either watches something in their living room or goes back to his room to play online games. Sometimes, when Yeonjun grabs water from the kitchen while Beomgyu is watching a movie, he feels slightly tempted to join him.

Beomgyu always looks so comfortable curled up on the couch and the movie he’s watching tends to be something Yeonjun would also watch. But Yeonjun has to be responsible and go back to his room and do his work instead.

It has him thinking he should just finish his work at the office, so he has zero blockers preventing him from joining Beomgyu (that is, if Beomgyu wants him to join?) He’ll have to work with Yeji to rearrange some things. It also gives him a great idea of a good activity that he and Beomgyu could do.

They could start a drama together. They could do it during the weekend too.

It’s something he brings up later, during the weekend while they’re eating breakfast.

He starts with this, “Have you seen that drama, Sweet Home?”

“I haven’t!” Beomgyu says, perking up at the name, “But I was going to. I was watching this other show on Netflix instead, Alice in Borderland? Have you seen that one?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “Nope, but I’ve seen it on my recommended list. Is it good?”

“It’s really good, Hyung. You have to watch it,” Beomgyu takes a bite out of his pancakes, “I finished it last night, and it kind of ends on a cliffhanger? Kinda hate how I have to wait for season 2. I’m thinking about reading the manga.”

“Okay, you make me want to watch it.” Yeonjun says. And then, because it seems like the perfect segue way for it, he asks, “But I’ve been wanting to watch Sweet Home too, and I didn’t really have any plans today, so um, I was wondering if you wanted to watch it together?”

“Oh,” Beomgyu looks surprised by the invitation, but instead of looking excited, he just looks apologetic, “I would love to, but I have plans today.”

Yeonjun tries not to let his disappointment show, “Oh. That’s okay. We can start it some other time?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu smiles, “Maybe next weekend? Unless you have stuff going on next weekend, then maybe we should pick some other time.”

“No, I should be free too.” If Yeonjun wasn’t free, he’ll make himself free. “What are you doing today?”

“I’m doing a commission of sorts for a friend. They need something to auction for charity, so I need to start working on something,” Beomgyu sighs, “It’s a little detailed and specific, so I’m thinking I should get a head start on it.”

He’s going to be pretty busy then. Yeonjun holds back a sigh. “Are you going to be back for dinner?”

“Of course,” Beomgyu says, without pause. “Don’t eat without me. Can we get pizza for tonight? I can pick it up if you order.”

“Just tell me your order,” Yeonjun says. And that’s that.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Before the next weekend can get there though, he falls ill.

“Hyung,” A soft voice comes filtering through the thick film of his dream.

“Hyung,” It comes again, this time with a gentle shake. “Hyung, you’re going to be late for work.”

He feels like he’s made of lead, heavy and slow to stir. He can barely open his eyes. He aches.

But he’s never missed work and there’s so much he has to do and there’s deadlines—so he forces himself to sit up, feeling utterly weak. He belatedly realizes it’s Beomgyu who woke him up.

He’s really out of it.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu frowns at his lack of speech, “You don’t look so good.”

Yeonjun grimaces as he drags his legs off the bed and tries to pull himself up, “I’ll be okay.”

Beomgyu presses the back of his hand to his own forehead before pressing it against Yeonjun’s. His hand feels cool. A nice hand. “I think you’re sick,” Beomgyu says, sounding troubled at the realization. “Hyung, you cannot go to work.”

“But,” Yeonjun begins to protest, but pauses when his voice comes out raspy and brittle. Beomgyu raises a brow, challenging him to continue. Yeonjun pouts, a fact that he will later deny, “But I can’t miss work. Beomgyu, you know my position—”

“What kind of work will you accomplish in this state? How good is your review and input when you can barely get out of bed?” Beomgyu says in a tone that barters no argument. He’s heard this tone before and it sickens him to realize that it’s a tone he’s heard only when Beomgyu’s on Facetime with his pet bird. When it’s misbehaving.

Beomgyu sighs, patting his head, “I get it. Appa has worked enough days sick for me to understand why. But you trust your team, right? They’re competent people. The company won’t crumble if you disappear for a day or two. Besides, what if you get them sick? Won’t you feel terrible?”

Logically, Yeonjun knows Beomgyu is making so many good points, but it’s not that he doesn’t trust his team nor does he not care about their well-being. It’s just that—he feels guilty about skipping work.

He feels like he’s disappointing someone by not showing up, which he knows, he knows, doesn’t make sense. He’s the boss.

But Beomgyu is right. He’ll be worse off (and his work too) if he comes in sick.

This is why when Beomgyu pushes him back to lie down, he makes no protest and just follows, only sighing when Beomgyu murmurs, “There you go. It’ll be okay.”

“I’ll call your secretary and let her know you can’t come in,” Beomgyu says. He makes sure Yeonjun’s tucked properly under his covers and sits by his side, brushing his hair until he falls back asleep. He thinks he hears Beomgyu sigh, but it could be the wind, it could be a dream.

When he comes to, he’s all alone in his room and he thinks that he may have dreamt it all. But he thinks he hears something downstairs, so he drags himself, blanket over his shoulders, to see what’s going on.

He catches Beomgyu in the kitchen, alternating between squinting at his phone and stirring a pot. Beomgyu immediately spots him and fixes him with a stern gaze, “Um, what are you doing here?”

“What are you doing?” Yeonjun asks, clutching his blanket tighter.

“I’m cooking.” Beomgyu smiles, going to him. Only then does he notice that Beomgyu is wearing the red apron Yeonjun usually uses when he cooks. Beomgyu presses the back of his hand against Yeonjun’s forehead and frowns, “You’re still so warm. I couldn’t find any medicine besides pain killers here, so I went out and got some.”

“You did?” Yeonjun could not believe his ears.

Beomgyu tilts his head, looking mildly amused, “Yes? Why do you look so surprised? I’m pretty self-sufficient, you know?”

Yeonjun blinks at his response. “Oh, that wasn’t what I meant.”

“Sure,” Beomgyu teases, pushing him towards their couch in the living room.

Yeonjun opens his mouth to further protest, when Beomgyu pushes him down by the shoulders to sit on the couch, covering him in blankets until he’s sure he looks like the poor cousin of the Michelin man. Beomgyu seems satisfied with his handy work, “Just stay here. I’ll give you medicine after we get something warm in you.”

Yeonjun is left to watch him walk back to the kitchen. He’s too weak to protest and now that he’s sitting back down on something soft, it’s easy for him to lean against the cushions and even easier, to give in and close his eyes.

He doesn't know how long he spends on that couch, but when he comes to, it’s to Beomgyu shaking him gently awake. “Time to eat, Hyung.”

Yeonjun groans. The lid of his eyes feel too heavy to open. He’s too tired to eat. “Later,” he mumbles.

“No, you have to eat now, even just a little,” Beomgyu insists. Something soft strokes Yeonjun’s cheek, and then a sigh—”Ah, this hyung is more baby-like than he looks.”

“I’m not a baby,” Yeonjun mutters, trying hard to shake the sleep out of his bones. In the end, he manages to sit up.

Beomgyu does him the kindness of spoon-feeding him. He spoons porridge and even blows on it until it’s cool enough and then brings it right up to Yeonjun’s mouth.

Maybe he is a baby. Beomgyu even wipes his mouth and praises him for finishing the whole bowl of porridge. He finds himself feeling warm at the praise (later, he will feel utterly ridiculous about that).

Beomgyu is talkative as he pours the right amount of medicine in the measuring cup it came with. “I hate the taste of this. How can something say it’s cherry flavored when cherries clearly taste nothing like it?”

It gets a smile, however brief, from him. He agrees with him though, the medicine tastes more bitter than anything else when he takes it, but it is what it is. It’ll help him feel better.

Beomgyu puts him to bed again eventually, and Yeonjun manages to get out the words he didn’t get to say earlier.

He manages to grab a hold of Beomgyu’s wrist, just before he gets too far. Beomgyu turns to him, “Hyung? Did you need anything?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “Earlier. I just wanted to say that you’re wrong. I wasn’t surprised that you were capable of going to a pharmacy for medicine.”

“No?” Beomgyu asks, softly.

“I was just surprised that you’d do it for me,” Yeonjun admits.

Beomgyu frowns, sitting back down on the bed, by Yeonjun’s side. “Why wouldn’t I? We’re partners, right?” Beomgyu jokes, “I remember our marriage vows. In sickness and in health. I think that means we’re supposed to take care of each other.”

Yeonjun shrugs, choosing instead to pick at fraying thread on his blanket, “I don’t know. It’s just that nobody’s ever done this for me.”

“Your mother?” Yeonjun shakes his head. She would never. She worried too much about her own health. She hated being sick. The indignity of it all, she once said.

“A caretaker?” Beomgyu continues to ask, but Yeonjun just says, “Nobody that wasn’t paid to do it.”

It’s silent for a moment, neither of them saying anything more. Yeonjun wondered if Beomgyu pitied him and was trying hard to find pretty words of condolences. It’s okay, Yeonjun wants to say. I’m used to it. I’ve lived this way for years.

He feels a hand suddenly grab his own and it makes him look back up at Beomgyu. There’s no judgement in his eyes, to Yeonjun’s surprise. There’s no pity either. Just someone who looks like the words went through him.

“Well, I’m here now,” Beomgyu says, voice low but clear. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand, “So I hope you can get used to it.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

He doesn’t recover until the weekend and he feels his stress pile up at the thought of the numerous things he must have missed and will need to catch up on once he’s back in shape.

He must have looked worried enough about it that Beomgyu says something about it, “Thinking about work?”

Yeonjun frowns, “How did you know?”

“I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you this, Hyung,” Beomgyu smiles, teasing, “But you’re an open book. I bet you’re terrible at poker.”

“I wouldn’t know, I don’t gamble,” Yeonjun sullenly says. What does he mean that he’s an open book?

“Are you upset at being called an open book? I don’t think you’re that expressive, but it’s easy to tell when you’re worried or pleased about something.” Beomgyu explains. “Back to my point, stop thinking about work! You’re just about recovered and this kind of stress is going to make you sick again.”

Yeonjun sighs, “Well, it’s kind of hard to think about it when I’m not doing anything all day.”

Beomgyu hums, “Then maybe we should take your mind off it. Didn’t we say we were going to watch Sweet Home together?”

“You don’t have anything you need to do today?” Yeonjun worries, “I feel like I should check my email at least or get an update—”

“No.” Beomgyu says, grabbing his phone and hiding it. “You can check it on Monday when you go back to work. Also, no, I’m free, remember? I told you I was going to be last week.”

Yeonjun shrugs, “Maybe your schedule changed, I don’t know.”

“It didn’t. I told everyone else I was busy, because I was going to hang out with you.” Beomgyu stands up, missing the touched look on Yeonjun’s face. He grabs their plates and says, “I can clean these. Do you want to wait for me in the living room? You can set the show up on my Netflix account.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, giving in. He shuffles over to the living room and wraps himself in a blanket and burrows himself on one side of the couch. He groans when he realizes that the remote is far away. Maybe he’ll just wait for Beomgyu to do it.

He leans his head against the cushions as he waits for him. He honestly feels okay now; he’s just tired, which must be the effect of his immune system trying to fight off the virus. He glances over to where Beomgyu is washing the dishes and hopes that in trying to take care of him, he didn’t pass it on. He’d feel so terrible.

Beomgyu was so nice to do it, Yeonjun thinks. He’s sure he had other things to do. His own work and projects, which were probably all paused because he was home the whole time with Yeonjun instead. It’s how he’s been trying to figure out a way to show his appreciation for Beomgyu and he doesn’t even get anywhere with it. Beomgyu’s the one who’s doing something for him again.

Beomgyu eventually joins him and comments, “You look so cozy. I thought you were going to set up the tv.”

Beomgyu sits on the other side of the couch, grabbing the remote and turning the tv on. Yeonjun turns to him with a pout, “The remote was so far away.”

Beomgyu bites his lip, barely able to hold back a laugh. “You’re being so lazy right now, it’s funny. I didn’t know you were capable of it, Mr. Productivity. Is this the same Hyung who gets up at six am to go for a run?”

Yeonjun huffs, “It’s cause I’m sick. I’m recovering.”

“Look at you not denying it now,” Beomgyu laughs for real this time. Beomgyu takes him in, “Do you need anything? You took the medicine already, right?”

A hug maybe, Yeonjun thinks but doesn’t dare say out loud. He shakes his head instead, “I’m fine.”

They start the show. It starts off with a foreboding feeling and some of the scenes have him feeling uneasy, like something scary and shocking is going to suddenly appear on the screen.

He shifts, wishing he also had a pillow in his arms or something to lie his head on besides the cushions of their leather couch. “We should get a new couch,” he says, off hand.

“What’s wrong with this one?” Beomgyu asks, looking more comfortable surrounded by all their couch pillows. “You picked this one, right?”

Yeonjun yawns, “Yeah, but I rarely use it. It’s more stylish than comfortable. I want something that reclines. It’s not soft enough to lie down on.”

“I think it’s fine,” Beomgyu laughs, “I binge watch stuff from here all the time. I’ve taken a nap here multiple times now.” Yeonjun squints at him, “You look like the type who can fall asleep anywhere.”

“Nooo,” Beomgyu denies. “Anyway, are you just grumpy because you’re uncomfortable? I can donate a pillow.”

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says, turning back to the tv. “I’m fine—”

“What were you saying earlier?” Beomgyu hums, “It’s not soft enough to lie down on? Just lie down and try it— “

“I’m not going to fit, you’re literally sitting there—”

“Then just put your head on my lap.” Beomgyu offers, “Or you can put your feet up here, but I think it’ll be better if it’s the former rather than the latter. I’ll pat your head, you little baby.”

Yeonjun stares at him. “Did you just call me a baby? I’m literally older than you.”

“That kind of posturing only works until uni, you know?” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. He puts a pillow on his lap and pats it, “Come on already. You could be comfortable by now.”

Maybe it’s because he’s already received so much from Beomgyu in the past few days that he barely protests. This is just another thing to add onto the pile.

Maybe it’s just because he’s recovering and his defenses are lowered and his brain isn’t thinking about all the reasons he shouldn’t do this.

Whatever it is, there’s just a part of him that wants to lie down on Beomgyu’s lap and have his hands running through his hair and that part wins.

He crawls over to Beomgyu, lying on his side so that he could face the tv. He sighs when he rests his head on the pillow and very nearly makes a satisfied sound when Beomgyu starts playing with his hair.

The drama they’re watching right now is all fight scenes and gore, but he feels at peace, even close to sleep.

“Hyung?”

“Hmm?” Yeonjun sleepily answers.

“Can I ask you a question?” Beomgyu asks, “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

He likes that Beomgyu always gives him an out. “What is it?”

The hand on his hair pauses and he nearly whines, but it continues and all is right. Beomgyu carefully asks, “What’s your relationship like with your parents?”

Yeonjun stills, before forcing himself to breathe out the tension in his body. “That’s a loaded question,” Yeonjun says, staring blankly at the tv.

“Like I said, you don’t have to answer,” Beomgyu reassures him, “You just rarely talk about them. And when you do, you always say...the most curious things…”

“Curious is a nice way to put it,” Yeonjun lightly snorts, “Unfortunately, there’s not much to say. My father was a busy man married to his work, and my mother was a good wife who loved the company as much as he did. They worked hard to get the company where it is now today.”

Beomgyu hums to show he’s listening, but when Yeonjun doesn’t continue, he follows up, “But what about you? I asked what your relationship with them was like and you didn’t even talk about that.”

Yeonjun thinks for a moment, unsure of how much to say. He doesn’t want pity. He doesn’t want to be told advice on how to fix his relationship with his parents. He wants to just let it be.

“Hyung?” Beomgyu asks. “You really don’t have to answer if you don’t want to. You can forget I asked—”

“It’s okay.” Here they are again. One person with their head bowed low and the other pulling them back. “I was just trying to figure out where to start and what to say.”

Yeonjun sighs, his fingers curling against the pillow. He starts with the truth, “My relationship with them is exactly that. It’s centered around the company. Everything was for the company. Even me, their only son, was for the future greatness of the company. My mother was strict, just like any mom wishing for their child’s success, right?”

“...right,” Beomgyu says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. It’s okay, because Yeonjun doesn’t either.

He continues, “She wanted me to be on top for everything, so I spent a lot of time studying and being involved in all sorts of things. She had very high expectations for me, which I tried really hard to meet. And even when I met them, she would always focus on the future. Of what’s the next step, of what else could be done better. She never even told me she was proud of me—” He stops himself, because that’s not quite true either.

“I don’t know. I do think she just wanted the best for me. Or the best of me. And I guess looking at myself, I ended up in a pretty good place thanks to her. It’s not so bad—”

“You don’t have to make light of it,” Beomgyu says, cutting him off, and Yeonjun finally turns to him, expecting him to look pitying. But he just looks earnest as he says, “You’re allowed to say it was bad, even if you’re in a good place now. It...doesn’t sound happy. It sounds super stressful—”

“It’s okay,” Yeonjun says, because there’s nothing else to do but be okay with it. The past has already been lived. It’s done and he’s here and forward is the only way he can look. “It wasn’t so bad. I just had to do what she wanted.”

Beomgyu’s brows knit tighter, and Yeonjun wants to press a finger between them. He doesn’t need to look this concerned over him. “Could you say no if you wanted to? What if you couldn’t meet her expectations?”

“I don’t know,” Yeonjun exhales, “Never fucked around to find out. In a way, I think I just wanted to please her. I wanted to make her happy. She’s my mother and I love her, even if she wasn’t much of one. Even if she never said she was proud, she would be sweet for a moment when I met her expectations. She’d give some praise and it would be enough, you know?”

It would be better than nothing, is what goes unsaid.

“Then,” Beomgyu swallows, then continues delicately, “Then this marriage…”

“It was also her idea,” Yeonjun says, looking away, “I did expect it though. I was just about the right age, and she had been hinting about it for a while. She was very excited about you.”

“What about you?”

“Hm?”

“What did you think?”

“I think I was just surprised that you were pretty young. I know it’s only two years, but twenty-six feels very much like you should be going out and partying.”

Beomgyu shrugs, “One could say the same about twenty-eight.”

“True,” Yeonjun smiles, “But most twenty-eight year olds don’t have a mother like mine.”

For a moment, Beomgyu looks like he has more to say, but whatever it is, Yeonjun doesn’t get to hear it. He ends up turning back to the tv and realizes he barely knows what’s happened with the whole episode. He doesn’t know how he got to the end, just like this. Which he guesses could be said about his life.

“I don’t like to dwell on it,” Yeonjun nuzzles his face against the pillow. “I’m old and I mostly just see them at work with rare holiday appearances. Besides, I really did mean it when I said that I like where my life ended up at. I live in a nice condo away from them, and I got lucky enough to end up with a job that I’m passionate about. Though sometimes I wonder if I’d like something else more if I got the chance to explore it.”

Beomgyu’s finger grazes by the shell of his ear and he nearly shivers at the touch. Maybe he’s still sick after all. “It’s not too late to explore. All you do is work, work out, sleep, and eat. I’m not trying to be judgemental, but Hyung. You need hobbies. This is really sad.”

“It’s not that sad,” Yeonjun defends his lifestyle, albeit half-heartedly. Sue him, he was tired. “That was also super judgemental, but since you’re taking care of me, I will let it pass. Like I said, I like it. I go out with my friends too, I’m just having a hard time coming up with things I do.”

“Hyung, I’ve lived with you for a while now. Trust me when I say it’s dull.”

“I hang out with you too. Are you saying this is boring?” Yeonjun pouts.

“We’re married,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “I’m obligated to say yes.”

Yeonjun grabs Beomgyu’s wrist, just so he can’t be distracted by the way it feels in his hair. “Beomgyu.”

“Yeonjun,” Beomgyu smiles, copying his tone.

“It’s hard for me to be mature right now, because you should definitely think hanging out with me is fun, because I think hanging out with you is fun. But also,” Yeonjun bites his lip, “you should know that you’re never obligated to do anything for me.”

Beomgyu looks taken aback by his words, but easily recovers, putting his hand against Yeonjun’s forehead, “Oh, Hyung. Maybe you’re still sick.”

“I mean it, though,” Yeonjun frowns, which has Beomgyu pinching his cheek, “Okay, okay, I got it. Noted.”

Yeonjun is not placated, though. He turns back to the tv, half-sulking, “Well, if you think this is boring, what do you suggest we do?”

Beomgyu laughs, touching his cheek and gently turning him back to face him. “I didn’t say it was boring at all. I like hanging out with you, hyung. Anyway, we were talking about you, remember? You need hobbies. Fun hobbies.”

“What do you suggest then?”

“You could paint with me! You could travel to places for non-business purposes. You could go to a concert or see a show. You can do other arts and crafts types of classes, like a ceramics making class,” Beomgyu says passionately. It almost makes Yeonjun smile at how heated Beomgyu is about this. “I don’t know,” Yeonjun shrugs, casually stating his protest, “I can’t do those things. It’ll be weird for me to take ceramics classes by myself.”

“I’ll go with you,” Beomgyu offers, and it feels like a door just opened in front of him.

“You would?” Yeonjun asks, just to confirm, and he gets a roll of eyes for his question. “Yes, I’ll go make vases with you, Hyung. Just so you can figure out what hobbies you like.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun easily gives in, which earns him a surprised glance. He’d been wondering what good bonding activities there were to do besides binge watching a drama and here was Beomgyu presenting them all to him on a silver platter. Maybe sharing your childhood traumas is worth something after all. He shrugs, acting nonchalant, “It sounds like it would be fun.”

“Of course, it’ll be fun, Mr. I-think-hanging-out-with-you-is-fun,” Beomgyu teases, finally turning back to the tv. “Have I ever let you down?”

Well, based on experience thus far, Yeonjun can’t exactly argue with that.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

They make a list of activities that Yeonjun can try, so he can see if any of them is worth being called a hobby.

(Yeonjun had jokingly called it his future side-hustle, but Beomgyu had frowned and said, stop monetizing yourself and just have fun, Hyung.)

The first on their list is pottery. Beomgyu signs them up for this one-on-one class taught by a friend of a friend, and together, they aim to make new vases for their living room. That—Yeonjun later finds—is quite ambitious for both of them. Which isn't that surprising for him considering it's his first time, but he thought Beomgyu would have at least been passably good considering he's an actual artist.

He says this to Beomgyu, who retaliates with no words. Just swipes wet clay on Yeonjun's cheek.

They go home with only a new memory and clay under their fingernails. Suffice to say, it's not a hobby Yeonjun will be taking up.

The next thing on their list is fishing. For this, Beomgyu borrows his dad's (his father-in-law, Yeonjun thinks with a shiver) fishing equipment and they drive down to a fishing spot by the Han river.

"So are you a fishing expert then?" Yeonjun asks Beomgyu, who was setting up their gear.

"Once, my father taught me how," Beomgyu says, looking far out into the river, "And then I never came with him ever again."

Yeonjun raises a brow, "So you also don't have a clue."

"Shut up, and help me put on the bait," Beomgyu hands it to him, "I hate bugs."

"But how do I put it on?" Yeonjun asks, looking at the bag of worms. "You have to teach me, Beomgyu."

"I never thought I'd be doing this again," Beomgyu sighs, "So I also don't know. Let me call my dad."

And then they proceed to Facetime Beomgyu's father, the Choi Hyunbin, one of the richest and most powerful men in South Korea, and receive a step-by-step tutorial on how to fish.

It was enlightening, embarrassing, and a little bit disgusting. They will also not be doing that again.

The weekend after that, they decide to do a baking class, and it is immediately Yeonjun's favorite thing on the list thus far. They're just going to be making some simple chocolate chip cookies, but he likes interactive things like this. It makes him feel like he's learning something new that he'll actually use later on.

How many times has he craved a simple cookie in the middle of the night? It will be so nice to make some now, because he can feel less guilty about making a big batch and having to eat it all. He'll just pawn them off to Beomgyu or give them to his office.

He feels relieved too that they don’t have to call Beomgyu’s dad for guidance nor do they have to figure out anything by themselves. Baking with an instructor is all about just following their instructions. It’s relaxing.

Yeonjun thinks baking is much more fun too, in comparison to fishing or ceramics. Primarily because he does well on it and Beomgyu struggles. He keeps making the funniest faces each time he fucks up on a step, and in turn, their instructor looks like they’re one fuck up away from turning into Gordon Ramsay.

He doesn’t say anything to Beomgyu, but the shit-eating grin he gives him says enough. Beomgyu still hits him for it.

They come home with the knowledge of how to make cookies, but sadly, he doesn't think he can make this his hobby either. Beomgyu burnt his cookies and now he's too embarrassed to ever go back.

Weekend after weekend, they slowly but surely go through their list.

Some don't feel like hobbies, like the one time they went to go see a play and it was so boring he had to elbow Beomgyu awake, and some weren't agreeable to the both of them, like that one time they ended up going ice skating and spent more time with their ass on the icy floor than on their feet.

But some are fun, like that one time they go back to the Han river and end up trying a bunch of water sports. They find a common love for wakeboarding and can finally add something to a separate list of things they actually want to continue to do together.

Yeah, Yeonjun knows it's all about finding activities for him to have as hobbies, but whatever, it's important to him that they both like it. He has spent enough time alone. It's much more fun and enjoyable for him to do it with Beomgyu, and there's just so many upsides to it. Here, Yeonjun will list them for you:

1. The more time he and Beomgyu spend together, the more comfortable they become with each other.

2. Yeonjun feels like he's having fun and deepening his relationship with his husband at the same time. (So really, bonus points.)

3. He's happier this way, which really is worth all the points.

So maybe his new hobby is just spending time with Beomgyu, and honestly? Yeonjun can't find any fault in that.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

He doesn’t realize how much his carefully followed routine has been slowly but surely upended until people start pointing it out to him.

As per usual, Yeji is the one who brings it up first.

She comments on it offhandedly as she’s dropping contracts that need his signatures, “Do you need me to order dinner for you tonight?”

Yeonjun is squinting at his computer. He can’t believe he forgot his glasses. “Sir?”

“Sorry, Yeji,” Yeonjun turns to her, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You don’t have to. I’m going to eat dinner with my husband again.”

“Oh,” She smiles, putting down the notebook she typically uses to take notes on, “I don’t think I’ve had to buy you dinner for a while now. I think being married has been a good change for you.”

Yeonjun stares at her. “Change?”

“Yeah, boss. Not working so late anymore. Going home like the rest of us,” Yeji nods, in approval, “Finally embodying the work-life balance we’ve been promoting for the past year.”

Yeonjun snorts, grabbing the contracts she placed on his desk. “I’ll drop these off for you when I’m done with these.” He gives her a look, “Thanks, Yeji.”

She shrugs as she hugs her notebook to her chest, “I’m just saying.”

The comments don’t stop there though. His friends even have something to say about it.

They mention it during a lunch meeting.

(Well, it wasn’t really a real lunch meeting. Soobin had convinced Yeji to sneak in weekly lunch meetings on his calendar, so Yeonjun wouldn’t have the excuse of not being able to see them. Yeonjun should also be more concerned about the two of them making executive decisions about his schedule, but that’s a problem for later.)

“Soobin-hyung,” Kai brings it up first, while Yeonjun is eating his eighteen dollar kale salad. “Don’t you think Yeonjun-hyung is looking better these days?”

Yeonjun stabs his fork in his salad, “Not you too.”

Soobin doesn’t spare him either. He puts an arm around Kai’s chair, leaning conspiratorially while eyeing Yeonjun, and says, “Yeah, look at him. He’s bright. Glowy.”

“Benefits of married life, I think.” Kai nods, taking a bite of his fried chicken sandwich. Through a mouthful of food, he says, “Soobin-hyung bet me that nothing would change, but I’ve kind of met Beomgyu-hyung before through a friend of a friend. I’m not completely surprised he wore you down.”

“Wait, you've met him before? Why didn’t you say anything?” Yeonjun didn’t even know Kai knew Beomgyu personally. He’s not surprised though. Chaebols know chaebols. The only thing surprising is that Yeonjun didn’t meet Beomgyu sooner.

There’s also so many things to address with what Kai just said. “What do you mean you’re not surprised he wore me down? Nobody is wearing anyone down. Also, what kind of gossip are you hearing?”

Kai raises his hands in surrender, “Chill, Hyung. Did I not mention it? I thought I did. We went through his instagram together, remember?”

Yeonjun closes his eyes at the stress he suddenly feels, “No! You just said he was hot. Anyone with eyes can see that.”

Kai smiles his evil little smile and Yeonjun suddenly regrets his words. “Don’t read into that. It doesn’t change my previous stance on it.”

“I haven’t even said anything, Hyung.” Kai goes back to his sandwich, “No need to be so defensive. I don’t even understand why you’re so adamant about not looking at him romantically.”

Yeonjun ignores him and looks at Soobin expectantly, “Anyway, what are people saying about me?”

Soobin clears his throat, “Well, people have been saying you’ve been going home early—”

“I go home at six, like everyone else!” Yeonjun defends himself, and Kai immediately points his oily fingers at him, “Hyung, you were always the last one to go home. You started going home at six like everyone else only after you got married.”

“Okay, so?” Yeonjun crosses his arms over his chest. “Beomgyu hates eating alone. Am I supposed to let my husband eat sad dinners by himself? How terrible do you think I am?”

He raises a brow to challenge them to say something, which of course, these bastards take.

“Ooooh,” Soobin sniggers, “So this is about being a good husband, huh?”

Kai shakes his head, “I heard Beomgyu-hyung just goes to other people’s houses to eat. So, I don’t really think his dinners were that lonely.”

“How do you know that?” Yeonjun squints. “Who is this friend of a friend of yours?”

But Soobin blazes on, “Hyung. You can just admit you’ve stopped overworking yourself because of your husband. Which is so wild to me, because we, your dearest friends, have been telling you to stop overworking for a long time, and you’ve never listened. Nobody can believe it. Your employees can’t believe it. They want to meet your husband so bad, so they can thank him for dragging you home.”

Yeonjun knows he asked for it, but he doesn’t understand why their Head of Communications is wasting his time collecting office gossip. “I didn’t know so many people were concerned.”

“People look up to you in the company and know you work hard, which means a lot considering how you could secure this position with who your parents are alone,” Soobin says so matter-of-fact. “I know it sounds like we’re making fun of you, and not going to lie, we kind of are, but we’re also super happy about this development.”

Kai nods, “Seriously, Hyung. It’s nothing to be self-conscious about.”

That’s easier said and done. Especially when his mother of all people brings it up too.

She mentions something to him when he attends a museum gala that his company sponsors.

"I'm so glad you're free tonight," Yeonjun tells Beomgyu as they are driven up to the museum by their chauffeur. "I know this is for charity and all, but it's gonna be full of art connoisseurs like you, and I know nothing."

Beomgyu side-eyes him, "You were so excited when you asked me about it, I thought we were going to go out or something."

"Doesn't this count as going out?" Yeonjun smiles, gesturing to their outfits. "We're all dressed up and ready to drink and socialize. Not used to seeing you outside of your usual sweatpants-sweatshirt combo."

Beomgyu laughs, looking down at his blue suit, "Yeah, I like to wear comfortable things at home or at my studio. Also, socialize? Don't you mean me having to save you from the art talk?"

Yeonjun pouts, "I wouldn't need so much help if we added museums and painting to my hobby list."

Beomgyu wags his finger, "That's because those aren't meant to be hobbies. You married me, honey. Those things are a given."

Before Yeonjun could comment on the usage of honey, they arrive at the museum and they step out together, walking in with Beomgyu holding onto his arm.

"Wanna say hi to my mom?" Yeonjun whispers against Beomgyu's ear.

Beomgyu pulls back to look at him with horror, "No, she's evil."

"Beomgyu!" Yeonjun admonishes, though he has to admit, he's more amused than anything. "That's my mom. Your mother-in-law."

Beomgyu gasps and hits him on the shoulder, "Why would you tell me that?" which makes him laugh. "You know I'm bad at faking reactions. How am I supposed to pretend I like her?"

“Why don’t you like her?” Yeonjun asks.

“Because.” Beomgyu gives him a look, like it should be obvious. “Because she’s not nice to you. And I don’t like people who are not nice to you. I’m on your team, Hyung.”

Yeonjun bites his lip, looking away and trying to hide his pleased smile from Beomgyu.

"I don't think she'll care," Yeonjun says, taking his surroundings in, trying to see if there are people he needs to talk to. "As long as we stay married, she won't care."

"Ohhh," Beomgyu muses, "And that's more dependent on you, isn't it?"

"We're fucked then," Yeonjun jokes. A waiter comes up to them, and he grabs two flutes of champagne, handing one to Beomgyu. "I'm a terrible husband," He continues. It's a joke but the moment it's out of his mouth, it feels like it's morphed into something terribly revealing and real.

"Now, we both know that's not true," Beomgyu responds, taking a sip of his champagne. "But of course, there's always room for improvement."

He hates how his whole body gears up at the word improvement. This need to please and be better is so ingrained in him, he doesn't know if he'll ever grow out of it.

In any case, he's curious, "What, pray tell, do you think I should improve on?"

"Why," Beomgyu raises a brow, "Are you looking for some real-time feedback? You're so funny. Don't worry, you're not being graded."

"Tell me," Yeonjun nearly whines, pulling at Beomgyu's sleeve. It only makes Beomgyu laugh, "Looks like you're shit-out-of-luck today, Hyung. Someone's coming over to talk to us."

When he turns, he sees that it's one of the organizers for the event.

"Yeonjun-ssi," They greet, "In about ten minutes, we'll be starting the event and we'll call you up to the podium to open it. Please be ready by then."

Yeonjun nods, "Okay, got it. I'll start getting myself ready now."

The moment they walk away, Beomgyu teases, "Should I cheer for you really loudly when you get on stage? I can yell, that's the man I married, really really loud."

"I would die," Yeonjun says, already cringing with embarrassment just imagining it, "Please don't. I think I will pass out and then I'll have to deal with the embarrassment of passing out in public forever—"

Beomgyu cuts him off, "Do you...perhaps...have fear of public speaking?"

"I get nervous sometimes," Yeonjun swallows. It's something he's had a long time to get over and more than enough practice to know that it usually goes well. But there's just some things you can't weed out of you. And this nervousness is one of them.

"I don't know if I should encourage you to down your champagne or if I should take it away from you," Beomgy frowns. "I think I should hold it for you, for now."

"I'll be okay," Yeonjun reassures him, but he's also reassuring himself. He takes a bigger drink of champagne and then puts it down to the side. "Not a big deal."

Beomgyu nods with a smile that beams positivity. "Yes, it is not a big deal. You got it. If you ever get nervous, know that your number one fan will support you no matter what."

"Which number one fan?" Yeonjun asks.

"Me! You silly goose," Beomgyu says, patting his back. "You know I'm always on your side, Hyung."

"You are?" Yeonjun wants to hug him. He's so so so nice.

Beomgyu hums and gestures at the stage, "If you're nervous, just look for me and I'll be there giving you a thumbs up. I promise."

He settles for holding Beomgyu's hand and squeezing it, "You don't have to, but thank you. It means a lot."

He says that, but Beomgyu doesn't listen. He does it anyway when Yeonjun finally goes up and recites his prepared remarks to the crowd. It's the kind of thing where his body goes on auto-pilot and his brain kind of blacks out. He feels like he only comes to at the end of the speech, thanking everybody for coming with a heavy thudding heart.

He remembers to glance at Beomgyu, and there he is, true to his word, giving Yeonjun two thumbs up. He can't help but smile as he walks off the stage, and it stays there even when he has to do his networking duties away from Beomgyu.

He somehow ends up with his mother, talking to the CEO of a large fried chicken chain. When they excuse themselves, his mother immediately sighs, relaxing if only for a moment until she has to entertain the next person.

She swirls her wine, breathes it in, and savors it when she sips it. Only after she takes this moment does she say, “You like him.”

“Huh?” Yeonjun’s attention is pulled away from where he’s been eyeing Beomgyu talk to the Director of the museum.

His mother looks elegant even in her smugness, “Aren’t you happy we chose well for you?”

“I could’ve done worse,” is what Yeonjun gives her.

“I’m pleasantly surprised,” His mother tilts her glass to him, “I’ve always thought the only thing you’d be fully married to is your work.”

He wills himself not to react to her words. It’s not that hard, he’s had a lot of practice. “I always do what’s asked of me.”

His mother doesn’t even comment on his words. Why would she? It’s the truth, and they both know it. It doesn’t even hurt to hear her comment on his work. He’s not even appalled or surprised. She’s always created a narrative that best suits the world she lives in.“It should be easy to keep it up then. He’s not in the business, but he’s supposedly the Chairman’s favorite. It would be bad if he was unhappy.”

“I know,” Yeonjun says, finally looking back to where Beomgyu was—only to find Beomgyu already looking at him.

Beomgyu smiles, a tiny thing that feels like it’s meant to be seen by Yeonjun and Yeonjun alone, and Yeonjun smiles back. Beomgyu tilts his chin up, gesturing for him to come over.

“Looks like duty calls,” His mother chuckles around her glass.

Yeonjun does go, but he’s not pulled by duty. He goes because he wants to.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

It’s not only his routine that’s changed. The way he’s thinking of them has changed too.

It’s always us now.

It’s: what are we doing for dinner? Where are we going this weekend? It’s plans made for two by two people.

Yeonjun’s an only child, so he’s used to a solitary experience; but here he is now, getting used to the steady presence of another. It’s so much more fun this way. He’s not sure if he can ever go back to how he lived before he got married.

He doesn’t realize how attached he is to this idea of them as a unit until his parents joke about divorce.

It happens in his father’s office of all places. He’s called for an impromptu meeting and he walks in surprised to see his mother with her arms crossed, watching the news like a shark.

“Yeonjun,” She greeted without taking her eyes off the screen, “Have you been briefed on this?”

Yeonjun has not. He doesn’t even know why they’re gathered here.

She gestures a well-manicured hand towards the screen, and Yeonjun finally pays attention to the headlines flashing across the screen: [CHOI HYUNBIN’S ENTERTAINMENT AND TECH CONGLOMERATE FINED 10 BILLION WON BY SOUTH KOREAN GOVERNMENT]

“Your in-laws are in trouble,” She clicks her tongue, “What good is having half the family in the government when they can’t even avoid regulations like this?”

He wonders what Beomgyu thinks of this. If he knew this was coming. His parents didn’t seem too concerned the last time they saw them. The fine is pocket change, but the bad press? That’s a little harder to recover from.

His father comments, “They’ll be fine. Hyunbin’s got connections with several news publications. It’ll blow over in a couple weeks. Some other scandal will grab people’s attention. A little charity here and there. This is nothing.”

His mother harrumphs, ever the devil’s advocate, “What’s the point of being such a powerful company when things like this happen? Maybe they’re not so powerful at all.”

“They’re powerful, not infallible,” Yeonjun says, turning away from the screen and with the intention to take his leave.

“Perhaps they’re losing their hold,” His mother sighs out before he can go, “Maybe it was a mistake to marry you to them. We should’ve thought this through.”

“Mother,” Yeonjun warns, but that’s never stopped her. She smiles, the shape of it sharp as a razor, “It’s alright, honey. Divorce is an option—”

For a split second, anger shoots through him, threatening to explode out, until he reigns it in. He knows all too well how to tamp it down, to repress and collapse unacceptable emotions.

But there’s something here that gets him. How they’ve already forced him into a marriage he didn’t want (nevermind that he’s fine with it now, that he likes who he ended up with). How easily they suggest breaking it depending on the fate of his in-laws’ company.

And maybe if it had been anything else, he wouldn’t have said something. But all he can think about is the warmth in Beomgyu’s brown eyes. How easily Beomgyu makes him laugh. Beomgyu’s voice saying, I’m here now.

Yeonjun is getting used to having these things. They’re his to have. They’re his to keep.

He thinks he manages to keep the ire out of his voice, but still, it comes out hard, “Please don’t make jokes about my marriage. It’s not funny.”

“Who says I was joking?” His mother challenges, bristling at the direct challenge. She doesn’t get those often.

“Well,” Yeonjun says, pursing his lips, “It doesn’t matter. Either way, there’s not going to be a divorce.”

And then he walks out, hearing her sputter out complaints to his father, Look at him acting like this. All because he likes that boy—

If his father placates her, he doesn’t hear it.

Unfortunately, despite getting the last word in, Yeonjun can’t get her words out of his head. How could she say that? And so easily?

It stays with him long enough that he’s still upset with it when he gets home. Beomgyu surely notices, what with the secret glances he gives Yeonjun, though he doesn’t ask until they’re done with dinner and settled on the couch.

Beomgyu stretches his leg and pokes him with his socked foot, “You okay?”

“Are you okay?” Yeonjun throws the question back to him. “I heard what happened with the company today.”

Beomgyu shrugs, “They’ll get over it. It’s not a big deal. Appa knows what he’s doing. Supposedly.”

Yeonjun’s mouth twists at his words. Hearing Beomgyu sound so casual about it, just makes his mother’s overreaction feel even more upsetting.

“Is that why you look stressed?” Beomgyu wonders. “It really isn’t a big deal. That’s outside of us, honestly—”

“No, I agree with you. I think it’s fine,” Yeonjun says, picking at a frayed thread on one of their throw pillows.

Beomgyu crawls over to him, just to pinch his cheek, “Then what happened to you today? Tell me?”

Yeonjun sighs, grabbing Beomgyu’s hand off his face, “It’s just my mother—”

“Just lay it on me,” Beomgyu sighs, dramatically. He wraps an arm around Yeonjun’s shoulder, rubbing his arm, “It’s okay, I know you want to complain about her. That’s what I’m here for. I love shit-talking about your mother anyway—”

“She kept making a big deal about it! She was saying how your father’s company isn’t as powerful as it used to be, how it’s a waste to have married me to you,” Yeonjun rages, the words coming out of him without filter, “She even suggested divorce, if worse comes to worse. What am I? She can’t just marry me to someone and expect me to divorce them. It’s sooooo fucked up—”

“Divorce?” Beomgyu repeats, incredulous.

Yeonjun turns to him worried and hurriedly adds, “She’s joking. I think.”

“Is that what’s been bothering you?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun says, with feeling. “How could she? Like she wasn’t the one pushing me to marry you. And then when I told her that it wasn’t funny to joke about it, she basically said she wasn’t joking. So I told her, there’s never going to be a divorce and walked out—” He pauses his tirade when he hears Beomgyu laugh. He narrows his eyes at him, “Are you laughing at me?”

Beomgyu covers his mouth, but his eyes are all crinkled at the corners and he’s totally laughing at Yeonjun.

Yeonjun’s mouth is open in disbelief, “My mother thinks she can divorce us and you’re laughing! Is this funny to you?”

“I’m not laughing at you,” Beomgyu says through giggles. Yeonjun is disappointed in him. Beomgyu pokes at the corner of his mouth, so he’d smile too, “Come on, don’t be upset. I just don’t take her seriously at all. And I’m laughing because you’re being so cute about this—”

“Cute?” Yeonjun repeats with an even deeper frown. “How am I being cute?”

“Are you that worried she’ll get her way?”

“I’m not that worried,” Yeonjun huffs, side-eyeing Beomgyu with a glare, “I just feel like our relationship was being disrespected in so many levels—”

“You are so cute, Hyung,” Beomgyu coos at him, pulling him by the shoulders and holding him to his chest. Beomgyu rubs his head against his, “I don’t care what your hag of a mother says. I really don’t give a fuck. I’m keeping you, I’m keeping you—”

Yeonjun flushes at his words, prays his face doesn’t look as pink as he feels when Beomgyu pulls back and holds his face in his hands, “Don’t be worried. This is our marriage. This is between only you and only me. And nobody is taking you away from me.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

And then there's this too:

The stunning realization that maybe he is the tiny bit attracted to Beomgyu.

It's not that he didn't think Beomgyu was attractive. That was something he'd been constantly reminded of by his friends and honestly, Yeonjun has eyes too. He can see exactly why Beomgyu's instagram posts could garner that many likes or why that many people would follow him. And it helps that he's rich, that he's fashionable, that he's talented and famous in his own right, that he came from not only a good family but one of the most established families in South Korea, and all these other things that probably made him one of the most sought-after eligible bachelors until Yeonjun married him.

But all those things were objective facts and all Yeonjun wanted was to get to know him and hoped that by the end of it, they'd have a marriage based on quiet affection and mutual respect.

Yeonjun knows him now.

The tiny part of his brain where he'd been accumulating post-it notes of Beomgyu-isms is nearly out of room. It's filled with notes stacked on top of each other, threatening to fall out of place.

In rough, rushed writing, one says, Beomgyu likes eating dessert for breakfast.

Another says, Beomgyu cries when watching sad Korean dramas, but especially when he watches Father-Son specific dramas.

The one that's hanging by its life to the wall says, Beomgyu is the type to care for you without saying anything, so you have to pay attention or you'll miss it.

This one, hidden under a mountain of other post-it notes says, Beomgyu's hands are calloused, from years of playing the guitar. All of it self-taught.

There's so much more and Yeonjun doesn't know what to do with all of it. But looking at all these notes, he begins to note several things about himself. The earlier notes were written like after thoughts and belonged to the time when he had just started paying attention. Beomgyu was so new to him then and the sight of him was a reminder of his new responsibility, another thing assigned to him by his parents as part of their long plan for his life.

That's certainly not how he feels now. Beomgyu is a part of his life and will continue to be, if either of them get a say about it (if Beomgyu ever hears him say this out loud, he just knows he'd correct him, nobody else but us will get a say about it, Hyung.) And all the recent notes reflect that, the writing all neat and done so with clear care.

But his recent revelation comes from this recent outing, when they had both agreed to go out with their combined friend group one Saturday evening.

"I want to apologize in advance," Yeonjun calls out as he waits for Beomgyu to finish getting ready.

He hears Beomgyu laugh, "Why? I'm sure your friends are great. They're your best friends after all, right?"

"Well," Yeonjun says, looking at his shoes and realizing they were untied. He bends down to fix it, "They are, but also they're a lot. They're menaces outside of work. They’re terrible during work."

A door closes and footsteps resound as Beomgyu comes down the stairs. He says, "Don't worry. I'm not easily intimidated."

Yeonjun smiles, standing up as he finishes tying his shoelaces and stops when he sees what Beomgyu looks like.

He's wearing a slightly distressed white shirt, dark jeans, and a leather jacket. On top of all of that, he's currently putting on earrings. It's odd because it's not like he's never seen Beomgyu all dressed up in a suit before, but this looks different from all those other times.

"You, uh, look good," Yeonjun says, unable to stop looking, and is rewarded by the beam of Beomgyu's smile.

"Thanks, Hyung! You look good too," Beomgyu says, still struggling to put on the earrings.

"You got it?" Yeonjun asks, also unable to stand there with his hands doing nothing.

Beomgyu sighs, handing him the earrings, "Could you? It won't go in."

"Yeah, I got it," Yeonjun murmurs, stepping closer to him. It's a dangling piece that's not too hard to put on, but could be difficult without a mirror. "Let me know if I hurt you," Yeonjun says, and tries to be as gentle as he can when he puts it on.

"I'm sure you won't," Beomgyu softly says.

Yeonjun gets it done pretty fast, smiling as he steps back to see how it looks on Beomgyu as a whole. He adjusts it a little and says, "There you go. Pretty."

Beomgyu blinks, a pink flush spreading across his cheeks, and it's painfully awkward for one awfully long second before Yeonjun hurriedly adds, "The earring, I mean."

"Oh," Beomgyu says, frowning, "Just the earring?"

"No, you're pretty too, I mean," Yeonjun flounders, gesturing to his whole face like a buffoon, "It looks pretty overall. On you. You know what I mean?"

Beomgyu loudly snorts, covering his mouth with his hand. "Yes, Hyung. I know what you mean. Should we go?"

Eager to move on from this, Yeonjun nods, gesturing with both hands towards the door, "Yes, let's go."

What the hell is up with him? Yeonjun wants to slap his own face. Get it together.

He's comforted only by the sight of Beomgyu's red ears. At least, the both of them are suffering together.

They take his car to this hidden bar in Gangnam, whose door is tucked behind a vending machine and only opened when given the password. Beomgyu's friend, Taehyun, had chosen this place and had thankfully given them the password too.

The open door leads them through a dark hallway and up some carpeted stairs, which had him holding onto the rail and Beomgyu holding onto his arm, the two of them giggling as they try not to stumble.

They safely make it to another door, which finally opens to the bar. It's not quite full since it's only seven in the evening and more than half of the people won't arrive until after ten. They find their friends already sitting together to their surprise.

"Soobin!" Yeonjun calls out, and their three friends turn to them. Soobin gets up first, welcoming him with a hug. "Thought you would never arrive, dude."

Yeonjun snorts, "We're only ten minutes late. Speaking of which," Yeonjun wraps an arm around Beomgyu's shoulder, "I think you guys met very briefly at the wedding, but hope you guys can get to know each other better and be friends too."

Soobin smiles, "Beomgyu, I have so much to tell you about Yeonjun-hyung."

Yeonjun hits him, "I said get to know each other, not talk about me behind your back."

"Ah Hyung," Beomgyu pouts, "Is it really behind your back if we talk about it right in front of you?"

Soobin laughs at that, smacking Beomgyu on the shoulder like they've been friends for years already. Yeonjun bites back a laugh when he sees Beomgyu wince. "Beomgyu, I think we'll get along just fine. Anyway, come meet Kai."

As they start walking to the table, Yeonjun sees Kai looking cozy with who seems to be Beomgyu's friend, Taehyun. No fucking wonder Kai knew so much about Beomgyu. Yeonjun turns to Beomgyu, "Are those two—"

Beomgyu shrugs, massaging the shoulder that Soobin smacked, "I didn't know they knew each other either..."

Yeonjun frowns, "Did he hit you that bad? Sorry, he was really small and short when he was younger and he always hits the person closest to him when he laughs."

"I'm fine," Beomgyu says, but Yeonjun tries to massage his shoulder too to ease the pain. Beomgyu laughs, "I'm serious, I'm okay. Come on, you need to introduce me to Kai and I need to introduce you to Tae, and then we need to interrogate them."

When they get to the table, Taehyun gets up first, going straight to Beomgyu for a hug, "Well, well, well, thought you lovebirds would never get here."

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, hugging Taehyun back, "Oh, I'm sure it was such a pain having to hang out with Hyung's friends while waiting for us."

Taehyun rolls his eyes too, "I was going to tell you, but it's not like it was official yet. And you just got married, it felt small and new in comparison to you."

"Uhuh," Beomgyu hums, full of doubt. He turns to Yeonjun, putting his hand on the small of Yeonjun's back, and smiles sweetly, "Yeonjun-hyung, I want you to meet my best friend, Kang Taehyun."

"Enchanté," Taehyun extends a hand, "I am unfortunately Beomgyu's best friend, but I'd like you to know me as Kai's boyfriend."

Kai, who was in the middle of teasing Soobin about something, overhears that and turns red, "Taehyun!"

"Nice to meet you," Yeonjun says, highly amused, "Please take care of Kai. He can be a handful but he's got the best heart."

"You're even worse, Hyung," Kai stands up too, wrapping an arm around Taehyun's shoulder and greeting Beomgyu, "Hi Hyung, we kinda know each other already, right?"

"Yes, we do, but Yeonjun-hyung should still introduce me properly," Beomgyu smiles, cheekily turning to Yeonjun who says, "Yes, Kai, this little rascal is my husband, Choi Beomgyu. Beomgyu, this is my real best friend, Kai Kamal Huening."

"Why do you have to say my whole name?" Kai complains, but his smile stays sweet. "Nice to officially meet you, Beomgyu-hyung."

"Nice to meet you too. Did you guys order already?" Beomgyu says, guiding them to all sit back down at the table, "I want some food."

Their friends end up sitting on one side, while they sit together on the other. Taehyun shakes his head, "We wanted to wait for you guys before ordering."

"What are you guys getting?" Yeonjun asks, looking at the menu. The sweet potato fries sound good.

"Their burgers are supposedly good and you can get fries with it," Soobin says, "I think I'm gonna get that. Their drinks look good too."

Yeonjun snorts, not even looking up from the menu, "Bet you'd still get a piña colada."

"Those are good though," Beomgyu says, "I like the little umbrellas they put in. It's cute."

"Right!" Soobin agrees, pleased. "And I don't really taste the alcohol which is even better. Yeonjun-hyung always gets something an old man would. Like a gross old-fashioned."

Kai adds on, "It's terrible. He says he drinks it because it's healthier to not have sugary drinks."

"I think that's better though," Taehyun comments, "Beomgyu-hyung's taste in everything is the opposite of that. He loves anything that's sweet. I told him he's going to get diabetes early on."

Yeonjun leans close to Beomgyu and says, "Wow, our friends are getting along by bonding over us. Who would've thought?"

Beomgyu hums but doesn't comment, too busy looking at the menu. "What are you getting, Hyung?"

"Since I'm gonna drink a little bit, I think I'm gonna get a burger actually. Just so I can still drive us home," Yeonjun says, pointing at where that is in the menu.

Beomgyu glances at him, "Just drink to your heart's content. We can take a cab home and get someone to pick up your car if you don't feel like you can later."

"I only want one. I'm gonna go for a run tomorrow morning." Yeonjun says.

"Ugh, you really are so healthy," Beomgyu covers his mouth, pretending to be nauseated. Yeonjun elbows him, which makes Beomgyu drop the act with a laugh, "I think I'll get the same. Are you going to get fries with yours or the salad?"

"Fries. I'm already eating the burger," Yeonjun says easily.

"Okay, good. I'm in charge of making sure you eat well," Beomgyu says, leaning back against his seat. "Also, make sure I don't drink too much. I'm a terrible drunk."

"Why would you say that? Now I wanna see," Yeonjun teases, flicking Beomgyu's dangling earring, "Are you a cute drunk—"

Taehyun clears his throat, reminding Yeonjun of the rest of the group's presence. Taehyun smiles, "Are we ready to order?"

"Yes," Beomgyu says, "Do we just go up to the counter and order?" Taehyun nods, "Okay, I can order for us, if everyone gives me their order."

They take turns giving their order, and with their drinks, entrees and appetizers to share, it's a lot. Yeonjun is concerned, "Do you want me to come with?"

"I can go with him," Taehyun says, already standing up and beating him to it.

"Tae and I can go get it," Beomgyu says, standing up. He pats Yeonjun's shoulder with a smile, "Just stay here, Hyung."

The two of them go and immediately, Soobin and Kai both turn to him with shit-eating grins.

"What," Yeonjun feels a headache already. He's definitely going to need that drink.

"Nothing," Kai says, while Soobin bites his lip to keep himself from laughing. "I didn't realize you were such an attentive husband, Hyung. So concerned, so caring."

"Don't make it weird," Yeonjun groans, "He's my husband, of course I'm going to act like that."

"You're silly," Soobin says, "I know you're saying husband to mean, you have a duty to him and zero feelings, but you have worse heart eyes than Taehyun does for Kai. And they're not the ones who've been set up in an arranged marriage. Hyung, you were flirting right in front of our eyes."

"No, I wasn't," Yeonjun denies. "We were just talking."

"You're so lame," Soobin shakes his head in disappointment. "So you guys don't even platonically try to kiss each other and then pretend you're not actually in love with each other? Where is the drama? Where is the angst?”

Yeonjun stares at him. Kai stares at him as well. "Hyung, I thought you didn't like watching dramas."

"I don't," Soobin huffs, "Doesn't mean I'm not aware of the stupid things Yeonjun-hyung would get into."

"Shut up, this isn’t a drama. This is real life. If I wanted to kiss him, I'd ask permission and go for it. I'm not gonna do anything stupid like that when I'm already married to him."

"Ah, so the problem with you isn't that you're shy," Soobin says, sounding super sympathetic, "You're just in denial."

Yeonjun pats himself for having infinite patience and for refusing to engage further with Soobin. "Whatever you say, Soobin."

"It's just such a shame," Soobin laments, "He's so good-looking. If I was the one married to him, I would have kissed him already."

Okay, nevermind, Yeonjun will engage, "Well, too bad. I'm the one who married him."

Soobin smiles, "I'm just saying. I'm sure I'm not the only one thinking about it."

Yeonjun thankfully doesn't have to hear anymore of this teasing, because Taehyun and Beomgyu both come back, hands filled with drinks.

"Here's your old-fashioned," Beomgyu says, placing his drink in front of him.

Soobin pouts, "Where's my drink?"

"They said they're going to bring it here, since ours comes in those coconut shells." Beomgyu says.

"Oh, cool," Soobin smiles, easily pleased. "Did you order another drink in the meantime?"

"Oh, this?" Beomgyu awkwardly gestures to the gin and tonic he had brought to the table. He exchanges a look with Taehyun and sheepishly says, "Some guy gave it to me."

Immediately, everyone's eyes go to Yeonjun, all waiting for his reaction.

He ignores them all, even ignoring the uncomfortable feeling sitting in his stomach, and focuses on the wide-eyed look on Beomgyu's face. "Um, I told him I was married already, but he said he already bought the drink and it would be such a waste—"

"It's fine. It would be a waste," Yeonjun smiles, reassuringly, though he feels even more uncomfortable that Beomgyu would think he'd be mad about something out of his control. "Are you going to drink it?"

Oddly enough, the whole table looks kinda disappointed at his reaction, which Yeonjun is utterly puzzled about. Did they want him to blow up or something? What’s there to be angry about?

"Yup," Beomgyu says with a mild smile. He grabs the drink and starts sipping it with a straw aggressively, "Yummy."

Huh, Yeonjun notes. He’ll have to ask Beomgyu about it once they’re away from their friends.

It seems like a one-off thing though. Whatever weird thing that was dissipates when Kai asks Beomgyu about his work. It gets Beomgyu going, the way Yeonjun has seen him do when asked about his art. There's so much fire in him that Yeonjun wholeheartedly admires and sometimes feels jealous about. He always looks so free, like a bird that's never been caged.

It's a conversation that continues even until after their food arrives. It slowly transitions to other things, from Taehyun's recent Paris trip to Kai and Soobin's disastrous recent attendance at a baking class. It doesn't come as a surprise to Yeonjun that his friends would like Beomgyu, but he's a bit surprised at how nicely their group is melding together.

Soobin and Beomgyu hit it off really well, in a way that Yeonjun feels like he'll come to regret later. Beomgyu laughs at Soobin's lame jokes, even when Yeonjun warns him that it'll only make Soobin braver. Beomgyu only says, but it's funny, Hyung, and you make bad jokes too. It's how Yeonjun already knows it's too late. Soon, they'll be hanging out without him.

The two of them eventually get up to buy more drinks for the rest of the table and Yeonjun's left with Kai and Taehyun, who look so cozy together. Yeonjun thinks Taehyun looks like the type of guy who'd be cool and sharp in all the ways, but he's more of a warm guy, which feels underscored by the way he has his head resting on Kai's shoulder.

So Yeonjun is a little surprised when Taehyun glances at him and asks the question of the night, "So, how does it feel like being married to Beomgyu-hyung?"

"It's..." Yeonjun pauses to search for the right word, feeling caught unaware by Taehyun's question. There's so many words for it and he's unsure on how to answer in a way that pleases Taehyun. He turns his head and looks at where Beomgyu and Soobin are huddling over the drink list at the bar. Beomgyu's laughing at something Soobin must have said. He feels so fond over the sight. Turning back to Taehyun, he says, "I think it's been lovely. Surprisingly good."

"That's good," Taehyun says, swirling his straw around his glass, "It feels a little weird for me to see you guys together, to be honest."

Yeonjun frowns, "Weird?"

Taehyun shakes his head, "Sorry, bad word choice. I just mean, I was the one who helped compile the list of guys Beomgyu would be allowed to marry, so it feels weird to see you go from a list on a piece of paper to the guy he's wearing matching rings with." Taehyun smiles a devil's grin, "Do you want to know who all the other guys were on the list?"

"Tae," Kai warns, but Taehyun waves him away, "Come on, it's an innocent question. Don't you wanna know?"

Yeonjun sips the drink he's been nursing since the beginning and considers the offer. It would be a lie to say he wasn't curious about it, but not enough to ask about it behind Beomgyu's back, though surely Taehyun would tell Beomgyu about it too. Yeonjun thinks Beomgyu would tell him if he asked too. But he thinks of how just the other day, Beomgyu had said, our marriage. How he held Yeonjun's face in his hands and said, I'm keeping you. It has him telling Taehyun, "It doesn't matter."

"Ah, you're not even curious?" Taehyun pouts, disappointed.

"It's not that," Yeonjun shrugs, "It just wouldn't make a difference to me. Beomgyu picked me, so I don't really care about all these other people. Beomgyu clearly wasn't interested in them, so why should I be?"

Taehyun levels him a look, but Yeonjun doesn't falter. "You're better than I thought you'd be," Taehyun says, after a moment. "I asked Kai about you and he said you were a workaholic," at this, Kai gives him a sheepish grin, "so I was a little worried when Beomgyu chose you in that line up. But he was adamant about it and said he had a good feeling about you. Maybe I should give him more credit," Taehyun smiles.

He's not sure how to handle the new information, but it does make him feel special. Beomgyu's always been good to him, always seems to be on his side, even when they didn't know each other that well. All of it just makes him want to be better to Beomgyu too. He wants to be a good man for him.

That conversation ends there, because Soobin and Beomgyu come back giggling with their drinks in hand. Beomgyu slides into his seat, pressing himself against Yeonjun. Yeonjun laughs, "You're so warm, should I cut you off after this one?"

"Nah," Beomgyu says, taking a sip of his drink. "I don't care if you see me drunk. Keep me away from Soobin though. You didn't tell me your best friend was such an enabler."

Soobin hears the accusation and starts defending himself immediately, "Hey, hey, hey, you're the one who suggested we should start doing Jägerbombs in this classy establishment."

Beomgyu grins, and it's not unlike how Taehyun had grinned earlier. Devils, the two of them. "Yes, and then I said, I'm joking, Soobin, and then you suggested we do a classier version of it instead."

Yeonjun eyes their matching drinks filled with cherries, "I think the two of you are bad influences on each other."

"What," Beomgyu pouts, turning to him and clinging to his arm, "Hyung. Take that back. I'm an angel."

"I'm surrounded by demons, I'm pretty sure," Yeonjun deflects, gesturing to their whole group.

Beomgyu only pouts harder, the sight of which fills Yeonjun with disbelief. How can a grown man look so cute? "How can you say that, my sweet husband? I trusted you," He even makes betrayed look cute.

"I'm kidding," Yeonjun says, giving in easily. "You're an absolute angel."

Beomgyu cheers, immediately turning to Soobin to rub it in his face. Yeonjun meets Kai's amused gaze. What, Yeonjun tries to say with his eyes. Kai just shakes his head. His friends are so judgy tonight.

Whatever. Whatever, because as the night goes on, his friends are the ones who get drunker and drunker, and he's the one who gets to watch them all get messier.

Beomgyu too gets sufficiently drunk, and his earlier hunch is right. He is a cute drunk. But you know what Yeonjun realizes? He's very much an affectionate drunk too.

It's not too surprising, because Beomgyu has always been a touchy, warm person. It feels like a whole other thing when he's drunk though. He's needy with hand holding, which manifests in the form of him holding onto Taehyun's hand on top of the table. The owner of which seems to be very much aware and holds his hand back without complaint.

When Kai says something he finds cute, Beomgyu doesn't hesitate to reach over the other side of the table to ruffle his hair and pinch his cheek.

And when Beomgyu asks Yeonjun if he wanted some leftover cherries from his finished drink and Yeonjun says yes, he goes ahead and feeds it to Yeonjun to his surprise and embarrassment. He seems so happy doing it though, Yeonjun couldn't do anything against it.

All he does is cut him off from ordering more alcohol. But by then, the alcohol has done its damage, and it all comes to a head when Taehyun says, pointing at the cherries, "Do you guys remember how people used to say if you can tie the cherry stem into a knot with your tongue, you were a good kisser?"

"Oooh," Beomgyu says, toying with a cherry, "Is it true?"

Soobin, who constantly disappoints Yeonjun, also leans in with interest, "I don't think it's true. Like, I'm trying to picture the tongue movements and I don't think that makes for good kissing."

Kai adds on too, "I don't think I've ever seen anyone actually be able to do it."

"What, so nobody at this table knows how to do it?" Taehyun looks at them all with disappointment.

Soobin shrugs, "I mean, do you even know how to do it?"

Yeonjun watches them bicker, with the same detached fascination that he usually has when watching the Nat Geo wildlife channel. It all ends up with the four of them trying to tie a cherry stem into a knot.

For an exercise that's supposed to determine how good of a kisser someone is, they all look so silly doing it. Soobin looks like he's having an aneurysm. Kai looks like he's concentrating very hard, while Taehyun just looks very determined. And Beomgyu...he looks like he's zoning out.

Taehyun, to no one's surprise, ends up getting it done, with Soobin and Kai giving up as soon as he finishes. Soobin is mildly impressed, but also looks mildly grossed out. "Amazed at what you can do, but also congratulations, Kai. Your boyfriend supposedly kisses well."

Taehyun doesn't even look embarrassed, which is fine, because Kai looks red and embarrassed enough for the both of them. Taehyun just puffs up proudly, "Kai already knows that, thank you, Soobin."

Soobin points to Beomgyu, "Are you still trying?"

Beomgyu puts his hand up, signaling him to wait, and then a moment later, he also takes out a tied knot from his mouth, throwing it on a plate.

Taehyun cheers, high-fiving him enthusiastically. Yeonjun stares at the knotted stem and accidentally catches Soobin's eye when he looks up from it. There's that judging look again. This time, Yeonjun glares at him. I will kill you if you say something, Yeonjun mouths.

It's effective enough that Soobin doesn't say anything. Nobody actually says anything, which is great, because Yeonjun really doesn't want to think about the implications of that. He doesn't really want to give in to the idea Soobin's been proposing all night. He's never thought about it, and he doesn't want to make the partnership they currently have weird. So, get fucked, Soobin.

The night eventually concludes with the common sentiment that they should all do this together again. Yeonjun makes sure they all get into their cabs properly, before choosing to head home. It reminds him so suddenly of his time in the US, when he was in university trying to make sure his friends there got home properly too.

He turns around, feeling super tired, and finds Beomgyu leaning against a wall, looking down at his phone. "Are you ready to go?" Yeonjun calls out, walking up to him.

"Hm?" Beomgyu smiles as he pockets his phone, looking a little out of it.

Yeonjun laughs, "You really drank a lot, huh?" Yeonjun casually brushes some of the hair from his eyes, "I said, are you ready to go home?"

"Yes!" Beomgyu answers with an enthusiastic fist pump, but when he tries to take a step forward, he stumbles right into Yeonjun, who reacts fast enough to catch him. "Whoops," Beomgyu says, but doesn't pull away. Just hugs him while nuzzling against his neck. "You're warm, Hyung. Why don't we hug more?"

Yeonjun flushes at the question and thanks the heavens that Beomgyu is too drunk and too busy hugging him to notice. "Um, we can? If you want?"

His response has Beomgyu pulling away, but only enough to be able to look at him. His hands are still holding onto Yeonjun's shoulders, his body is still pressed up against him, and though the breeze brings a chill, Yeonjun feels warmed all the way through. "You promise?" Beomgyu squints at him, "We're gonna hug more?"

"Yes," Yeonjun says, feeling his whole world narrow to the vision of Beomgyu's face. Has his lashes always looked that long? "You can hug me anytime."

"What about you?" Beomgyu asks, pouting again. If Yeonjun wasn't holding him up, he'd spare one hand to cover his pouting mouth. "Are you going to hug me more? You can also hug me anytime. I like hugs. Did you know that my love language is physical touch?"

Yeonjun swallows, pocketing that information, "I...can hug you more too. If that's what you want."

"I just said I like hugs," Beomgyu shakes his head, "Of course, I want it."

"Okay, okay," Yeonjun says to appease him, blaming the current conversation on the alcohol. "Noted. Let's walk back to my car, so we can go home?"

"Let's go," Beomgyu murmurs, letting him go. "Wait, walking is hard, right now."

"You can hold onto me," Yeonjun says, offering his arm. Beomgyu gives him a soft smile and takes it.

They get to his car and Yeonjun helps him, opening the passenger door and making sure that Beomgyu gets seated without bumping his head against the roof of the car.

He even grabs the seatbelt and reaches over Beomgyu to put it on for him. "Thank you," Beomgyu says, his earnestness resounding loud against the silence of the parking lot.

Yeonjun smiles, lightly pinching Beomgyu's round nose. "You're welcome. Did you have fun tonight?"

"Yes," Beomgyu sleepily says, "I like your friends, Hyung. They're fun. I think I'm going to steal Soobin from you."

Yeonjun laughs, "You don't have to. What's mine is already yours."

Beomgyu hums, "What about you? Did you have enough fun tonight? I told you we should have just taken a cab. Now you have to drive us home."

"I had plenty of fun. And I already told you, it's fine." Yeonjun reassures him.

"But I wanted to see you drunk too," Beomgyu whines. "I feel like you were just sitting there."

"You can see me drunk another time, I promise." Yeonjun laughs, "Also, yes, I was sitting there. Do you know how funny you all are to watch?"

"I'm glad you were amused, Hyung." Beomgyu pats him on the head, "But you should have participated in that cherry stem thing with us. I wanted to see if you could do it."

Yeonjun blinks. What?

"Why did you want to see me do that?" Yeonjun slowly asks.

"Because," Beomgyu says, and Yeonjun holds his breath waiting for his next words, but all he does is yawn, covering his mouth, "I think we should head home now. I'm tired."

"Oh, okay," Yeonjun stands up and closes the door for him. He exhales loud as he walks to his side of the car, mind spinning. That sounded suggestive almost. Was Beomgyu interested in that? Did Beomgyu want him like that?

If Beomgyu does, If Beomgyu is, then, then—

He feels like he needs a moment to process the implications of all that, which he doesn't have because he still needs to drive them home. He sets them aside for now, tucks all those thoughts away and becomes a person who can drive home without losing it at the thought of Beomgyu wanting him like that.

Yeonjun gets in the car and mechanically puts on his seatbelt and turns the car on. They drive home almost in the silence, save for the hum of the car's engine.

Beomgyu is half-asleep by the time they get to their place. Yeonjun feels the same tiredness settle in him too, and they ride the elevator up in silence too.

Their silence is only broken by Beomgyu as they're about to enter their separate rooms.

Beomgyu comes to him with a one-armed hug and a kiss on the cheek, "I really did have tons of fun tonight. Thank you again."

The kiss was sudden, lightning-quick, fleeting, and barely there. But it was searing—the feel of Beomgyu's mouth indelible on his skin.

"Good night," Yeonjun says, feeling like he's standing at a point of no return.

Beomgyu smiles, "Good night. Sleep well," and walked into his room without looking back.

Something hits him, quick like that kiss but hard over his head, and he feels dizzy at the stunning realization.

I want to kiss him, Yeonjun thinks as he touches his cheek. I want him.

More than what he had previously thought and more than what their current dynamic entailed.

Every moment they spent together felt like rain, watering the soil, until the feelings grew.

Here, standing in the dark, his heart is in full bloom.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Not much changes after his Beomgyu epiphany.

It just puts all the emotions he's been feeling into a new perspective, like someone finally shone a light onto them, and now he can see them for what they truly are.

When he makes breakfast for two, he knows what the warmth in his chest when he watches Beomgyu eat means.

The feeling of coming home and seeing Beomgyu tired and curled up-passed out on their couch and wanting nothing more than to put a blanket on him.

The longing that clings to him when they have to part into different rooms for the night.

This softening, this lowering of all the walls—all of it are spider-web paths leading to tenderness.

It’s an odd crossroads place that he finds himself in.

He had worked so hard to cultivate the relationship he has with Beomgyu. He had been so adamant to everybody that he wasn’t interested in anything romantic with his husband. And here he is now, possessing the former and regretting every word he’s said related to the latter. He wants what he thought he gave up on. He wants more.

He can’t even avoid Beomgyu while he tries to figure out what he wants to do. He thinks about Beomgyu all throughout work and at home, he’s become too used to spending all his waking moments with him. Even if he could avoid Beomgyu, he doesn’t want to.

Beomgyu doesn’t deserve to be avoided, and Yeonjun can’t deny himself the joy of spending time with Beomgyu. And there’s something else too, one he’s been noodling on since that night they went out with their friends.

He thinks Beomgyu might want him too.

He feels this theory grow stronger after this one moment past dinner:

“Hyung,” Beomgyu says, climbing up on the counter to keep him company while he washes the dishes. “Did you know our wedding monthsary is coming up?”

“Monthsary?” Yeonjun turns to him, “What are we, teenagers?”

Beomgyu hits him lightly on the shoulder with a dish rag. “Hyung!” He scolds, “Everybody celebrates monthsaries until they reach a year. You’re too young to be acting like this. Is it because you only used to date milfs before you married me?”

Yeonjun does not hesitate to flick water at him. Beomgyu giggles, putting his hand up to block further attacks, but Yeonjun’s already gone back to washing the plate he momentarily abandoned. He wonders if Beomgyu will mention the fact that only couples celebrate their monthsaries.

“I’m serious, Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu says, reaching over and patting his arm. “Why shouldn’t we celebrate? You’ve been working hard at work, which deserves to be rewarded. And it’ll be a nice little fuck you to your mom for suggesting divorce.”

“No,” Yeonjun frowns, which pulls a pout from Beomgyu, “I mean, no, if we’re going to do this, we should do it for ourselves. Not my mom. Even if it’s to get back at her for that.”

Beomgyu smiles, “I like that.”

“Did you have a place in mind?” Yeonjun asks, putting a glass he cleaned on the dish rack.

Beomgyu hums, “Kind of? My friend has this new-ish Japanese restaurant in Gangnam. It’s an omakase style kind of menu, which I usually am not a fan of—”

“Because you’re picky?” Yeonjun teases.

“Yes,” Beomgyu confirms. “But it’s all meat. It’s a seven-course Wagyu omakase and I’ve been dying to try it out.” Beomgyu looks at him, eyes big and wide and full of hope. “Is that something you’d like?”

He wonders if Beomgyu knows how cute that looks and how hard it is for Yeonjun to say no with those eyes on him.

Yeonjun shrugs, “I don’t mind it.”

Beomgyu frowns, “That’s not very enthusiastic of you. Was there somewhere else you wanted to eat at?”

“No, no,” Yeonjun says, “There’s nowhere else. Honestly, wherever you want is fine with me. Wagyu sounds amazing.”

“Okaaaay,” Beomgyu says, giving his arm one final pat before finally stopping. Yeonjun eyes his hand. “Why were you rubbing my arm for so long?”

Beomgyu answers solemnly, “To reward good behavior. I want you to always wash the dishes for me, Hyung.”

Yeonjun flicks water at him again and this time, Beomgyu jumps off the counter and moves farther away. He likes Beomgyu a lot, but he’s getting too brave for Yeonjun to not do anything. He puts his hand under the stream of water running from the sink's faucet and runs towards Beomgyu. He puts him in a headlock and rubs his wet hand on his face.

“Hyung!” Beomgyu yelps, trying to twist away, but it’s too late. Yeonjun releases him satisfied with his messy hair and the disgruntled expression on Beomgyu’s face. “Don’t mess up my hair.”

Yeonjun messes up his hair again, ruffling it as Beomgyu tries to swat his hand away. “It looks cuter this way.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Beomgyu is running his fingers through his hair, trying to fix it.

Yeonjun tries to help him, patting it down, “It always looks cute.”

Beomgyu gives him a look full of doubt, but it’s true. His hair always looks cute on him. Beomgyu is always cute.

“Hmph,” Beomgyu says with narrowed eyes. “I forgive you for this just because you said it looks cute. Finish cleaning so we can start the movie already.”

He stalks off, and even the way he walks away is cute to Yeonjun. He’s a goner. Hopeless.

Later when he joins Beomgyu on the couch, whatever annoyance Beomgyu may have had is gone for he eagerly shares his blanket and rests his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder. “Hold on,” Yeonjun says, “I need to get the remote.”

Beomgyu’s head lifts off his shoulder. He gets the remote and presses play. He settles back against the couch. Beomgyu goes back to resting his head on his shoulder.

Yeonjun wants to put his arm around him, but he doesn’t. It would be so nice to hold him.

“Hyung?” Beomgyu says, as they watch the opening credits play out.

“Hm?” Yeonjun hums.

“I’m really excited for our monthsary dinner. I’m glad we’re celebrating it.” Beomgyu says as the screen goes dark, right before the opening scenes begin to play.

Yeonjun wishes Beomgyu’s hands weren’t tucked in his lap. He wants to hold them.

“Me too,” Yeonjun says, “I’m excited for it too.”

In the middle of the movie, he settles for resting his head against Beomgyu’s and feels Beomgyu let out an almost imperceptible sigh.

This feels like something, right?

It feels so much like they’re on the verge of something, but the part of him that overthinks and doubts wonders if he’s simply projecting what he wants and seeing something that’s not there.

When he’s with Beomgyu like this, pressed close and slow to move away from each other when the movie is done, he feels like maybe Beomgyu is like him. Feeling it out and unsure of what the other feels.

When he’s alone and doubting, he feels that maybe it’s the latter. Beomgyu has always been vocal about what he wants and if he hasn’t said anything about it, then it’s probably not the case.

Yeonjun wishes he could be the type of person who can be honest about it all too: his wants, his desires. He wants to be a person who wants and says it out loud at the same time.

But he’s not, and tonight when he goes to bed cold and alone, he settles on playing it safe for now. He likes this relationship too much to ask for something Beomgyu may not even want.

So it’s fine. It’s all fine. He’s quite good at wanting and never asking for it; why stop now?

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Okay, he knows what he said before, but maybe Beomgyu does want him.

He has his friends to blame, yet again for why his thoughts are like this.

He hates his friends. Why does he talk to them?

Kai had asked him after a meeting if he had plans tonight and he had excitedly told him about how he and Beomgyu were going out to dinner for their monthsary. When they parted, Kai had waved goodbye and left him with the parting words, “Have a good date tonight, Hyung!”

And now, it’s all Yeonjun can think about.

It’s the way he was overthinking about his relationship with Beomgyu all this time that he’s missed the fact that technically, going out to dinner with someone for your monthsary can be misconstrued as a date.

Is it a date? Is it not a date?

For fuck's sake, Yeonjun thinks as he loses his mind quietly in his office, we're married. I'm overthinking this.

It's literally just going to be their normal dinners at home, but you know, outside. At a nice restaurant. It's not a date. Not at all.

They don't have that kind of relationship, so Yeonjun should get it together. There's literally no reason to be losing it over like this—

"Sir," Yeji opens the door, with her clipboard in her hand, and freezes when she sees him, "I was just about to remind you of your next meeting in ten. Should I cancel it?"

Yeonjun tries hard not to fix his messy hair, "No, no. It's fine. Why would you cancel it?"

"Just...felt a vibe, sir," Yeji covers her mouth. Why does Yeonjun feel like he's being laughed at? "You okay?"

Yeonjun pauses for a moment, wondering if he should even consider asking Yeji. In the end, he figures he has nothing to lose. He sighs, "Can I answer your question with another question?"

Yeji raises a brow, answering unsurely, "Yes, go ahead."

"Okay, close the door first," Yeonjun gestures, and she does, right before taking a seat in front of his desk.

Yeji holds her pen up to show she's ready, and Yeonjun waves his hand, "Yeji, this is embarrassing, please don't take any notes."

"Spit it out already, boss," Yeji rolls her eyes, putting down her pen and crossing her arms in front of her chest. "Is this a personal question?"

Yeonjun narrows his eyes at her, "Yes...it's a personal question."

She sighs, "Okay, let me hear it already."

"Can you make sure Soobin doesn't hear this?" Yeonjun asks. The Yeji-to-Soobin pipeline is unfortunately alive and real. Yeonjun would not be able to live this down if Soobin were to find out.

"If I promise yes, would you please ask the question?" Yeji says, exasperated. At Yeonjun's nods, she says, "Okay, I promise that this won't reach Soobin at all."

With that, Yeonjun finally asks, "Okay, say Person A and Person B were married--"

"Sir, please." Yeji gives him a look.

"Okay," Yeonjun says, giving up the ruse immediately, "So, Beomgyu and I are married, right?" Yeji nods, following. "But you know how it’s an arranged marriage, so our relationship isn’t really you know,” Yeonjun vaguely gestures.

Yeji sighs, “Yes, I think I know.”

“Cool. Anyway, we’ve been getting closer lately, and we talked about celebrating our monthsary tonight, so we’re going out to this restaurant for dinner.”

"Okaaaaaaay," Yeji says, slowly. Yeonjun holds his hand up, so she doesn't cut him off. "I'm getting to it."

Yeonjun clears his throat, "Anyway. Do you think that's a date?"

Yeji's mouth twists, "Sir, you're married, why wouldn't you think it's a date?"

"Because!" Yeonjun says, his voice rising to an embarrassingly high pitch. "I don't know. Our relationship isn't like that. I mean, I like him like that, and I think he likes me like that. But I don’t know for sure?"

"I think it's a date." Yeji says, certainly, which Yeonjun frowns at, "But what if it's not a date?"

"Do you not want it to be a date?" Yeji's brows knit together, until her face relaxes into a genial smile, "Or is it that you want it to be a date so bad you're worried you're projecting?"

Yeonjun groans, covering his face, "I just don't want to assume. It's not like I can ghost him if I embarrass myself. And another thing. Beomgyu’s pretty straightforward, and he didn’t say it was a date.”

"Boss, there's clearly two options here: just act like you normally would and see what he does. You're good at reading people. Just take it as you go."

"But if it's a date, I'd want to treat it properly like one," Yeonjun laments. "I'd want to buy him flowers or something."

Yeji rolls her eyes, "Then just ask him if it's a date or not."

Yeonjun sighs, pulling up his phone, “Fine—oh, wait. My meeting!”

Yeji stands up, waving his concerns away with a flick of her hand, “It’s fine. I’ll move it. Just call him, so you can concentrate. I can feel your stress all the way from my desk.”

“Thank you,” Yeonjun looks at her, meaningfully, though she just laughs, closing the door behind her.

That leaves Yeonjun alone with his phone and his thoughts. His finger hesitates on Beomgyu’s contact, before sighing and calling him.

It’s always better to know than to wonder, anyway.

He cradles his phone against his ear and waits for him to pick up. Each successive ring has him holding his breath longer and longer until—

“Hello?” Beomgyu’s voice filters clearly through the speaker. “What’s up, Hyung?”

“Hi.” Yeonjun says, then pauses for what he guesses is a moment too long as Beomgyu says, “Hello? Hyung? Hello?”

“Hello,” Yeonjun says back again, “I can hear you—”

“Oh good,” Beomgyu says with a laugh, “Are you taking a break from work? Why did you call?”

“Can’t I just call you?” Yeonjun asks.

“So you just missed me?” Beomgyu teases, “Unfortunately, I’m painting right now, so you’ll just have to wait tonight. Speaking of which, what time are you picking me up? Do you have a lot of work you need to finish?”

Yeonjun smiles, randomly doodling on his notepad as he says, “I have work, but it’s nothing that I can’t finish tomorrow. What time did you want to go?

“Doesn’t matter,” Beomgyu says, “My friend reserved a section of the restaurant for us, so whenever you’re ready to go, I’m down.”

“So...you’re okay with like, nine in the evening?” Yeonjun teases.

“If you’re not ready until nine, I’m going to eat without you.” Beomgyu threatens. “I’ll take somebody else over there—”

Yeonjun’s mouth hangs open, “But this is our monthsary dinner. How could you say that?”

Beomgyu laughs and the sound of it is still somehow golden, even through the phone. Yeonjun tries not to let it distract him from what he just said. “Beomgyu,” He says, sternly.

“Oooooh, yeah, use your boss voice on me,” Beomgyu teases further and continues to laugh when Yeonjun makes an annoyed noise. “I’m kidding. Is 6 pm too early? That’s usually when you leave work.”

“To meet up for dinner?” Yeonjun asks, “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll aim for 6 then.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu says, sounding like he’s smiling. Yeonjun wishes they were on Facetime so he could confirm. “Is that it?”

Yeonjun bites his lip, and then thinks, fuck it, right before shutting off his brain, “Actually, I was wondering...is this a date?”

The slight pause before Beomgyu answers feels like an eternity. “It’s whatever you want it to be,” Beomgyu says, simply and with no hint of what he wants.

Yeonjun takes the leap of faith, “Well, I want it to be a date, but if you don’t—”

“Good,” Beomgyu cuts him off. “It’s what I want too.”

“Oh,” Yeonjun says, relieved. “You should’ve said so in the first place.”

His mind spins again. This means he should get out of work even earlier so he can go to a florist and pick up flowers. He knows it’ll be easier to have Yeji order some for him, but there’s something more personal and meaningful about doing it himself.

“Yeah, I could’ve, but I wanted you to say it first,” Beomgyu says. Then in a light airy voice, he says, “Another thing you should know about me is that I like being chased.”

“Huh?”

“Pay attention when I’m giving you hints, okay?” Beomgyu says, laughing again. “I’ll see you later, Hyung. I look forward to our date.”

Chased, Yeonjun thinks. Chased. He wants to be chased? Before he can say anything further, Beomgyu hangs up and Yeonjun once again is left with his thoughts.

Yeji walks in with a bright smile moments later in his office, only for the smile to drop when she sees Yeonjun with his head in his hands. She sighs, “I’ll clear your schedule for the rest of the day.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Yeji was so right to clear his schedule for the rest of the day.

He barely got any work done. He wasted an hour looking at flower meanings of all things, then he wasted another hour trying to decide which flower shop to go to. He ended up not being able to decide on the flower and figured this was just something to leave up to the experts. The expert being the teenage girl working at this highly-rated flower shop he found on Naver.

He's been to flower shops before. He'd gotten flowers for dates before (secret dates here and there, relationships never mentioned to his parents, gifts for people he knew were his for a moment and a moment alone) and he'd bought some as gifts to friends as congratulations for a variety of events. He doesn't know if he's ever put this much thought on what to get, though.

There's an overwhelming amount of choices in this shop. A whole rainbow of roses greets him by the entrance, and it's a whole parade of flowers after that. He reads the signs on them. Hydrangeas. Poppies. Baby's breath. Wisterias. Tulips. Peonies. They all look pretty, but what would be best?

"Hello," The girl manning the front greets, coming up to him, "Do you need any help?"

"Yes," Yeonjun answers, feeling a little shy. "I have a, uh, date tonight, and I wanted to give him flowers, but I didn't want to get a typical bouquet of roses."

The girl lights up. "That's so sweet. Do you have an idea of what you were looking for? Or what he likes? I'm sure we'll have something that'll fit what you need."

Yeonjun wishes he had a clue on what flowers Beomgyu would like. It's not really something that has casually come up in conversation. His mouth twists in thought, "I just want something pretty that's also meaningful. Flowers have all sorts of meaning, right?"

He loves how casually he manages to say that, like he didn't spend a whole hour looking up flower meanings online.

"They do," The girl points towards the baby's breath right in front of him, "These ones mean everlasting love and purity. Is that something you'd like to give?"

He's sure Beomgyu wouldn't know what the flowers mean unless he searches it up or Yeonjun tells him, but just in case either of those two things happen, he decides against the flowers. He's not ready for the embarrassment of having to explain that. Besides, he's not sure how he feels about the words everlasting love. Yes, they're married, but isn't forever too big of a word to be throwing around on a first date?

He shakes his head, "I don't know if that's the right move. This is our first date."

The girl hums, "You'll be surprised. Some people are all in by the first date. Or they've just loved them for a long time before they ever get to that stage. How long have you known him?"

"It hasn't been that long to be honest," Yeonjun thinks of the past couple months, of how they're celebrating their monthsary tonight, which still feels quite unreal. "He was kind of a surprise in my life. Really didn’t think I’d end up here with him." He smiles, almost lost in thought, "He’s the best. I’m really grateful for him."

"I see," The girl nods to herself, looking around at the shop, "We have a lot of flowers that are meant for gratitude and can also be romantic of some sort." She walks over to the back and gestures for him to follow. He does and they end up among a bunch of different yellow flowers, "We have sunflowers, which also mean adoration and loyalty. If you look over there, we also have pink hydrangeas for someone who understands us deeply. It's a little cliché, but you can also just go with pink roses. We can also combine flowers for a bouquet. What do you think?"

Yeonjun exhales, "There's just so many choices. It's so hard to decide." He bites his lip, looking around. They're all so pretty, but none of them feel like the right choice either.

Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a bunch of white wild-looking flowers. "What about those?"

"Oh!" The girl exclaims, "Those are buckwheat flowers, which were super popular a couple years ago, because in that one K-drama, Goblin, that actor Gong Yoo gave these flowers as a gift, so people started requesting them. It's died down recently though, since it's been a while since that drama aired."

"What do they mean?" Yeonjun asks, going to them. They don't look like the typical flowers you'd see in a bouquet, but there's something so lovely about them, like they were handpicked by a child in the fields. Rare and beautiful and something that belongs in Beomgyu's arms.

The girl shrugs, "It doesn't really have an official meaning, but according to the drama, it just means, lover."

Yeonjun raises a brow, "Just that single word?"

"Yeah, but I guess that's a word that means a lot of different things in one."

Yes, it does, Yeonjun thinks. Something that can't be wholly described in words just yet, but fitting enough for the general direction of their relationship.

Lovers.

Yeonjun pulls out his wallet, “I think I’d like to get this one.”

The girl seems surprised by his choice but easily goes with it, “How big would you like that bouquet?”

“Not too big,” Yeonjun thinks about it. Either way, Beomgyu wouldn’t really be carrying it the whole night, so it wouldn’t be bad to get something large. “Just something with impact.”

He ends up paying for something that he cradles like a small child to his car, placing it in the backseat. He drives with his anticipation sitting in the passenger seat and together they can’t wait till they get home to give the flowers to Beomgyu.

A part of him wishes he could have changed from the suit he’s been wearing all day, but at least he’s just been stuck in his office all day and they’re thankfully going somewhere a bit fancier. He won’t look too out of place.

He hates that it’s the moments when you want to rush home the most that it takes the longest. He gets stuck in traffic and gets home a bit later than what he’d told Beomgyu. He parks by the front of their condominium’s building and texts Beomgyu that he’s here.

He immediately gets a text back, I’m coming down!

He smiles, pocketing his phone and getting out of the car. He grabs Beomgyu’s bouquet of buckwheat flowers and waits by the passenger side. He tries to look at his reflection in the mirror, but it’s a bit obscured by the light above. He runs his fingers through his hair and tries to pat down the sides of it. He’s so busy trying to make sure he looks good he almost falls to the ground in shock when a hand pats his shoulder.

He turns around, clutching the flowers to his chest, “Oh my god—”

It’s Beomgyu raising both his hands up. “It’s just me,” He says, looking quite amused until he notices the flowers. “Oh, is that for me?”

“You scared me,” Yeonjun says, clearing his throat. He hopes he didn’t crush the flowers. They feel even more fragile in his hands now. He offers it to Beomgyu, “Yes, they’re for you.”

Beomgyu takes the bouquet from him carefully and says, “Are these buckwheat flowers?”

“How did you know?” Yeonjun asks, endeared by the way Beomgyu holds the bouquet like it’s a baby. He was right. The flowers do belong in his arms. “Were you a Goblin fan? The girl at the flower shop said it was popular because of that.”

Beomgyu laughs softly, admiring the flowers, “Yes, I was a super big fan. My mom and I watched it together.”

“So you like it?” Yeonjun can’t help but ask, “The flowers?”

“They’re really, really, really, pretty,” Beomgyu glances at him through his lashes. His eyes really are unbelievably beautiful.

They stand there, staring at each other for a moment, before they both realize that they’re just staring stupidly at each other and that they still have dinner to go to.

“Um,” Yeonjun gestures towards the car, then awkwardly steps back to open the car door, “Please get in before you get cold.”

Beomgyu bites his lip, hiding a smile that way, “I’m wearing a coat, Hyung.”

It’s true. Beomgyu is wearing a long grey coat tonight. Yeonjun rubs his shoulder, touching the thick material of it, “I know, but you get cold easily.”

“So you pay attention after all,” Beomgyu says, finally getting into the car.

Yeonjun doesn’t bother correcting him, because it doesn’t need to be said. He always pays attention.

Though there’s a hint of shyness as they get settled in the car, they soon fall back to their established comfortable dynamic. It feels just like usual—they talk about their days, what they did or if anything interesting happened. Yeonjun tries to steer the conversation more towards Beomgyu, because as has been previously established, he hasn’t really done much today except think about this date.

It’s not too difficult, because Beomgyu usually has a lot to say. He talks about mundane things like paints and how he’s trying out a new brand, but it’s not quite working out for him. He confesses how he feels a little bit trapped in his studio and how he’s been itching to go somewhere green and vibrant and woody just so he can get a little bit more inspiration. He updates Yeonjun on some of the paintings he’s donating to auctions and how he hopes they do well.

He really does get so excited when he talks. The way his words stumble right after each other and keep rolling. There’s something so animated about it; Yeonjun could listen to him talk all day.

They arrive at the restaurant in no time. It is conveniently close, located at this newly-opened high-rise hotel.

Beomgyu leaves the flowers in the car, which is a great idea considering the sudden rush of the cold wind blowing in their direction. They cling to each other, hurriedly walking inside the hotel.

The restaurant is on one of the highest floors and boasts floor-to-ceiling windows. What’s even more to brag about is the glittering view of the Han river and the rest of the Seoul skyline, which they can see right by their reserved table.

Yeonjun accidentally peeks down and immediately looks away when he’s reminded of how high up they are.

Beomgyu, of course, notices with a laugh, “Scared of heights, Hyung?”

“Yes,” Yeonjun says with feeling.

“So when I ask you,” Beomgyu says, taking a seat, “To go bungee jumping, you wouldn’t do it?”

Yeonjun takes a seat too, “I’m too young to die. I’m also too young to be a widower.”

“I’ve already done it before. It’s pretty safe,” Beomgyu says.

Their convo gets cut when a waiter approaches their table. “Anything to drink, sir?”

“Just water for me,” Yeonjun says, pushing the menu away from him. He’s driving but that’s beside the point. He wants to remember everything that happens on their first date.

Beomgyu does the same, “Water for me as well. For our meal, we wanted to do the chef’s special.”

The waiter confirms, “The seven-course wagyu omakase?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu smiles, handing his menu to him. Yeonjun does too.

When their waiter leaves, Yeonjun finally comments on the place, “This is really fancy. We’ve really stepped up from our first dinner. No stains on our clothes, no view of our kitchen, but I do kind of miss the soft tofu soup.”

“Don’t remind me. That was so stressful,” Beomgyu sighs, “But if you want that for tomorrow’s dinner, I’ll call home and let them know.”

Yeonjun hums, “I don’t know. I kind of want to make it myself.”

“Oh?” Beomgyu says with interest, “That would be nice. Cook for me, Chef.”

“What are you saying? I always make you breakfast when I can,” Yeonjun says, defending himself.

Beomgyu inspects his nails, “Breakfast doesn’t count. I make half of it with you.”

Beomgyu’s not wrong...they do make breakfast together most of the time. Gone are the days of the breakfast omelette. Well, not completely. It still makes its appearance every now and then, but it’s usually coupled with something sweet like blueberry or chocolate chip pancakes. On occasion, it’s been paired up with french toast. Sometimes, the eggs don’t even get scrambled; just sunny-side up.

Yeonjun stares at him, unable to say a word. Beomgyu grins, looking a little too smug, “Don’t worry, Honey, you can make it up to me.”

Yeonjun raises a brow at the endearment. (Though is it really an endearment when Beomgyu is using it to tease him?) He used it that other time too, at the gala they attended. He clears his throat, “Honey?”

“Yes?” Beomgyu answers, before tilting his head to the side, looking all confused. “Oh, do you mean—”

Yeonjun flushes at how readily Beomgyu answered to the name.

“Well. If you’re not into it, it’s fine,” Beomgyu clears his throat, continuing with zero of the embarrassment that Yeonjun feels. “Yeonjun-hyung.” He says pointedly.

“It’s fine,” Yeonjun says. “You can call me whatever you want.”

Honey is fine, honestly. Sweetheart, baby, or even just his name works. It doesn’t make a difference. All of it makes Yeonjun melt; all of it sweetened by virtue of being said in Beomgyu’s voice.

After that though, they kind of fall into a weird lapse of silence. The restaurant isn’t too busy, so their gazes have to fall either to the glimmering view of the sky line or to each other.

Yeonjun alternates between the two, getting a glimpse of Beomgyu when his eyes are focused on the city beyond them before flitting away when Beomgyu looks back at their table. It’s hard to look away, because Beomgyu looks good tonight. He always does, that’s already been established, and he has that face, and those eyes, and that nose—Yeonjun can go on and on, but there’s just something different tonight. Maybe it’s the revelation that they’re on a date, which makes him allowed to look. Makes him allowed to want.

Only the embarrassment of getting caught makes him look away, to be honest. Otherwise, he’d stare at Beomgyu all night.

Thankfully, their food comes and the odd silence so reminiscent of their first breakfast together is extinguished for the moment.

“Beef tongue,” Their waiter introduces, placing two plates of said dish in front of them. Thick slices of meat seasoned simply to enhance, not overwhelm, the original taste, and then seared to perfection.

“You know what’s interesting to me?” Yeonjun says right after their waiter leaves. Beomgyu looks up at him, “What’s interesting?”

“That you won’t eat sushi, but you’ll eat beef tongue,” Yeonjun says, amused. “Like, isn’t it weirder to eat beef tongue than raw fish?”

Beomgyu narrows his eyes at him, before turning his attention back to the seared beef tongue on his plate. He takes his knife and starts cutting a piece, “I just don’t like seafood. It’s the concept. Beef is beef. I love beef. Don’t make it weird.”

It still doesn’t make sense to him. It also doesn’t make sense that a cow’s tongue gets to meet Beomgyu’s tongue before him. The cow is dead and Yeonjun’s wearing the ring, but he still feels like the loser.

He takes a bite of it too and nods, solemn. At least, it tastes good.

“What do you think?” Beomgyu nods at him, hand covering his mouth to hide that he’s still chewing his food. “The meat is really succulent.”

Yeonjun gives him a thumbs up, “Really good.”

For his own sanity, he also doesn’t think about the fact that this cow’s tongue is in his mouth. It’s just beef. It’s just beef.

Once they’re done with the beef tongue, their waiter punctually replaces their plates with the next course, beef heart.

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, placing his hand on his chest as he looks at the three thin slices of tender meat on his plate, “Do you ever think about going vegetarian?”

Yeonjun, who was about to take a bite of it, puts it back down to his plate with a frown, “Not when I’m about to eat meat. Are you thinking about going vegetarian, Beomgyu?”

“I just feel sorry for the cow sometimes,” Beomgyu takes a tiny bite of it, chewing thoughtfully. “He really died for this meal. Like how would I feel if I was that cow and somebody was really enjoying eating my heart? I think I would be very sad.”

“I don’t want to think about it,” Yeonjun goes back to eating it. It really is tender soft in his mouth. Exquisite.

Beomgyu still looks like he’s contemplating the vegetarian lifestyle, which Yeonjun finds nothing wrong in. But Beomgyu doesn’t even like half the vegetables that exist on this planet. What would he eat? So he says, “Well, think about it, Beomgyu. The cow is already dead. And at least this way, we’re appreciating all parts of it, leaving less of it to waste.”

Beomgyu nods with such solemnity it would be hilarious if not for the words out his mouth, “So true, bestie.”

“...What did you call me?”

“Bestie?” Beomgyu asks with a smile. “Haven’t you heard of that phrase? All the cool kids say it these days.”

Yeonjun raises a brow and readies himself for the teasing sure to come, “That’s the first time I’ve heard it. Am I your bestie?”

Beomgyu laughs, “How do I explain this? Technically, you can use it on anyone. It’s just an expression.”

“Still a valid question though,” Yeonjun prods, “Am I or am I not your bestie?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “Taehyun’s my best friend.”

“But what about me?” Yeonjun says, refusing to budge with a pout. What am I to you? He wants to know.

Beomgyu looks at him with consideration so serious, Yeonjun thinks he heard the question he chose not to say out loud. “You’re my husband,” Beomgyu says, finally.

Yes, Yeonjun wants to say, but what does that word mean to you?

Is husband a word for a person that stands by your side but doesn’t share your bed? Is husband a word for a person that you live with but doesn’t live in your heart?

All husband does is point to the ring. He wants to know what Beomgyu feels.

Before he can ask, their next course comes. This time, it’s beef ear.

Beomgyu sighs, “All this meat makes me wish I ordered red wine.”

“Why don’t you order some right now?” Yeonjun asks.

“Because you said you wanted water. I don’t want to drink alone.”

Yeonjun teases, “You never want to eat alone. You also don’t like drinking alone. What are we going to do with you?”

“Says the person who didn’t want to do any of his hobbies by himself,” Beomgyu retorts back. He tries the beef ear, “Hey, this is also really good.”

“They’ve all been pretty good. I was kind of worried though, because with restaurants like this, the portion sizes are always small. What if I was still hungry after?” Yeonjun asks. It’s happened before at some dinner meetings he’s had in the past. Small portion sizes plus business discussions means Yeonjun’s either too busy to eat or still hungry after talking too much.

Beomgyu laughs, “Then we can get dessert after. Can’t let you go home hungry on our first date.”

Yeonjun smiles, “Okay.”

He feels giddy at the reminder. No matter what Beomgyu may think of him, at least he knows this is a date and there is something. Even if he can’t quite define what that something is.

Throughout the date, Yeonjun teeters between those two feelings: contentment at being where they are versus overanalyzing Beomgyu’s every move. After the sweetbreads, he finds himself lost in the moment, happy to be teasing Beomgyu over silly things. After the oxtail, he finds himself lost in Beomgyu’s eyes again.

By the end of the meal, he’s picking apart every little thing that Beomgyu did and putting them together in a way that would spell out exactly how Beomgyu feels.

It’s funny. When he thinks of Beomgyu, he always pictures him with his heart on his sleeve, but he is realizing that’s not exactly true. Beomgyu is bright and forward, but he’s selective when it comes to showing his heart, like a man keeping all his cards close to his chest.

There’s hesitance in Beomgyu that Yeonjun can’t exactly fault him for. Yeonjun is hesitating too.

For example, when Beomgyu pays for their dinner, is it okay for Yeonjun to say, I’ll get it next time? (Is it okay to assume a next time?)

Or when they step back outside and into the cold night, it is okay for Yeonjun to pull Beomgyu close and hold his hand? (Nevermind that Beomgyu is already clutching onto his arm. It could just be that he’s cold.)

Or when they decide to stop by a donut shop for dessert, is it okay for Yeonjun to buy the whole store out for him? (Beomgyu is eyeing each flavor and can’t seem to decide. Is it wrong to want to spoil him?)

When it comes to stuff like this, he thinks it’s better to play it safe. Let Beomgyu say what he wants and only then will Yeonjun make a move. But what if Beomgyu is thinking the same thing? What if Beomgyu won’t say what he wants, which he does for some unexplainable reason when it comes to the things Yeonjun wants the most?

Holding himself back like this though, just intensifies the urge to do them all. He’s like one accidental touch away from holding Beomgyu’s hand. The feeling is worse in the car, where they’re all cramped up in this tiny space and Yeonjun has to sit with his longing and keep his eyes on the road. It doesn’t help that Beomgyu is back to holding his buckwheat flowers; it makes him want to stop by every open flower shop and buy him more.

“Are we already driving home?” Beomgyu asks.

“Yeah,” Yeonjun says, “Did you want to go somewhere else?”

Beomgyu bites the inside of his cheek, “Well, only if you’re not tired yet. But isn’t it sad if we just went home immediately?”

It would be sad if this date ended right here. It feels like it all happened so fast, making him feel like he chugged the moment like cheap wine, rather than savoring it.

“I’m fine. I’m not tired yet,” Yeonjun says. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s pick somewhere with a nice view. So we can look at that while we eat our donuts.”

Yeonjun racks his brain to think about what a good spot is, “Hmm, the only thing that comes up for me is like by the Han river? We can park there or something.”

“No.” Beomgyu says firmly.

“Why not?” Yeonjun says. “You’re always talking about nice vibes. We can roll down our windows or something.”

Beomgyu won’t budge on it, “It’s cold. And I don’t like the Han river at night.” He says this with so much distaste, “That’s like where celebrities hang out when they don’t want to get caught dating.”

“Oh, I’ve heard, but it’s really only idols who do that, right?”

Beomgyu shrugs, looking out the window, “I’m not sure. Anyway, let’s go somewhere else.”

Yeonjun has to briefly park the car and they both look for a good spot to go to. On his phone, he searches up ‘Top Spots to Sit in the Car with Your Husband so He Will Let You Kiss Him’ before realizing that’s too specific and just searches for ‘spots with nice views in Seoul.’

It’s all pointless because they end up finding a random high point that they can park at. Yeonjun keeps the engine of his car on, so they can have the heater on.

“Ugh, finally,” Beomgyu says, trying to grab the box of donuts on the floor of Yeonjun’s car.

He struggles, and Yeonjun laughs, “Here, give me the flowers. We can put it in the back.”

“But they’re so nice,” Beomgyu pouts, handing it to him anyway. It frees him up to easily grab the box of donuts, “The donuts unfortunately win.”

They open the box and the car is filled with the sugary smell of glaze on pastries. “Which one do you want, Hyung?” Beomgyu asks, grabbing a napkin.

“Just get me the plain one,” Yeonjun says. When Beomgyu raises a brow, he sighs, “Fine, give me the chocolate twist one.”

Beomgyu makes a pleased sound, grabbing it from the box and handing it to him. “Look at you, not denying the finer things in life.”

“If I die early of diabetes—” Yeonjun threatens, and then jokingly gasps, “Is that what you want?”

“No,” Beomgyu says, smiling his evil little grin. Only for a bit though. Once he’s bitten into his donut, the smile has already melted into something soft, “You’re not allowed to die early actually. I didn’t marry you, just so you could leave me a widower at such a young age.”

Yeonjun snorts, “Why did you marry me?”

Beomgyu stuffs himself with the donut and doesn’t answer.

“Wait,” Yeonjun says, “That’s actually a serious question from me. Taehyun told me...that you picked me from a line up guys. I know it doesn’t matter and I know I don’t exactly have a glowing response for why I married you, but I was wondering if you could tell me yours…”

“Freaking Taehyun and his big mouth,” Beomgyu curses, before sighing. His mouth twists as he contemplates how to phrase his words, “I don’t know. It was a bunch of things. I liked that you were the Head of a more creative-centric division in your company. I felt that maybe you would understand me and my career as an artist because of that. I liked that you went to school in the States, because it sounds like you lived independently and that you were well-traveled. Because I like to travel. There’s other things too, because Taehyun really did his research, like dating history and all that—”

Yeonjun panics for a moment before realizing that his dating history really isn’t that bad. Just a couple non-serious partners here and there. Now that he’s thinking about it, he wonders what Beomgyu’s dating history is like.

“But you know, it’s gonna sound shallow of me,” Beomgyu continues, “But I saw your picture and just felt like it was supposed to be you.”

“Because I’m good looking?” Yeonjun asks with a raised brow.

“No,” Beomgyu denies so fast it makes Yeonjun grin. “I mean, not that you aren’t. But I don’t know…” Beomgyu says, looking away and focusing his gaze out into the city, “You just seemed like a good person. Kind, loyal...you know, all those things that are underrated but are things you’d definitely want in a person...in a husband.”

“It’s a bet, I know,” Beomgyu says, turning back to him with a smile, “But you proved me right, so it was a good bet in the end.”

Yeonjun eats his donut, so he doesn’t have to say anything. He doesn’t think he’s not a good person, but it’s a little wild that it’s his face of all things that got him Beomgyu. He’s imagining what would have happened if Beomgyu hadn’t gotten that impression, of him choosing someone else to marry, of Beomgyu in someone else’s home and arms and wearing someone else’s matching ring—

And he stops himself there. Pauses the spiral of what ifs, because Beomgyu is here with him, in his car, mouthful of donut, and married to him.

Instead, he says, “Thanks for choosing me. I’m glad you did.”

It’s the right thing to say, because Beomgyu just beams at him, fooling him for a moment that the sun showed up right in the middle of the night. It makes him feel good to be the cause of it, and even better, it wasn’t only the right thing to say. It was also just what he felt, for which Beomgyu has never punished him for, unlike the other people in his life.

He turns to Beomgyu and looks at him as he contemplates, what do I do with something so good like this?

He must have spent too long staring, because Beomgyu tilts his head, “Do I have something on my face?

He wills his face not to show his embarrassment at being caught and nods, “Yeah, you have an eyelash on your cheek.”

There is an actual eyelash on his cheek. Was Yeonjun looking at it? No. Don’t ask stupid questions. The important thing is he’s looking at it now.

“Oh,” Beomgyu pouts, turning his cheek, “This one,” and then turns to the other side, “Or this one?”

“It’s on this side,” Yeonjun says, unable to stop himself from reaching over to hold Beomgyu’s cheek. He gently swipes the eyelash and shows it to him, “Here it is. You should make a wish.”

He’s so focused on the eyelash that he’s nearly stunned by Beomgyu’s eyes when he finally looks. There’s an intensity there that Yeonjun doesn’t know how to put into words.

“What should I wish for?” Beomgyu asks, voice coming close to a whisper but not quite.

“Anything you want,” Yeonjun says, earnest and real, “I think if it’s you, it’ll come true.”

Beomgyu shakes his head, “I think it’s the same for you. You could have anything you want, if only you’d reach for it.”

Yeonjun laughs lightly, because he doesn’t know what else to say to that. That seems to be the theme of the night, but what can he do when Beomgyu keeps saying things that leave him bankrupt of words?

He’s always been good at only reaching for things he can have, and his whole life has been an exercise in self-control. But this, he doesn’t know if he can have, and still, he finds himself reaching for it.

He reminds Beomgyu of the eyelash, “It’s your eyelash, so it’s your wish. Come on, close your eyes and make a wish already.”

“Stop deflecting,” Beomgyu pouts at him, but closes his eyes.

With his heart pounding against his chest, lungs holding his breath, he realizes this is what Beomgyu might look like before a kiss.

“I wish—” Beomgyu starts.

“It’s not going to come true if you say it out loud—”

Beomgyu opens his eyes, annoyed, “Well, there’s nothing I want.”

“There must be something,” Yeonjun says, unsure why Beomgyu is in a bad mood, “You were about to wish for something earlier.”

“I don’t want to waste my eyelash on something like that,” Beomgyu sighs, then smiles at him, “I think I’ll be generous and give my wish to you.”

Beomgyu tries to push the eyelash towards him, and Yeonjun rejects it, pushing it back towards him, “No, it’s your wish.”

But between the two of them, the eyelash slips off and falls into the dark abyss of his car’s interior. They both frown at it.

“Well,” Beomgyu says, “We’ll just have to wait for the next eyelash to fall off or a shooting star.”

“Or,” Yeonjun says, turning back to him, “I’ll grant your wish.”

Beomgyu leans back against the passenger door and looks at him dismissively, “It’s not a wish that can be granted just like that. I don’t want to receive it just because I want it. I want to receive it because you wanted it in the first place.”

Yeonjun’s brows furrow at his words. Why is he walking around in circles, unable to just say it out loud? “Well how am I supposed to tell you I want it, if you can’t tell me what it is?”

“Which is why you should have just used up my wish,” Beomgyu says. He claps his hand, leaning forward as he props himself using the console between their seats, “I’ll grant your wish instead. What’s that Girl’s Generation song? Tell me your wish—”

Yeonjun wants to laugh because of how cute he is, but is it really okay to just ask?

On a date with Beomgyu, on the day of their monthsary, after a nice evening spent together, there’s really only one thing he wants.

But he doesn’t want it if Beomgyu doesn’t want it.

Huh, that sounds just like what Beomgyu was saying earlier. Yeonjun squints at him, and Beomgyu tilts his head, “So?”

“Come here,” Yeonjun says, but he’s the one moving forward, bringing himself closer to Beomgyu. His heart starts to pound when Beomgyu doesn’t move.

“You,” Yeonjun starts, and Beomgyu smiles in response, “Me.”

Yeonjun swallows, tentatively placing a hand on Beomgyu’s nape. He’s so warm, always has been, but when Beomgyu closes his eyes, just briefly, why does it feel like Beomgyu’s the one warmed by him?

“Beomgyu,” Yeonjun starts again and watches Beomgyu turn his dark brown eyes to him again. He’s so beautiful. “Tell me if I’m reading this wrong. Tell me if you don’t want this.”

Beomgyu mirrors him, his own hand coming up to caress Yeonjun’s cheek, “I think you should stop thinking and just go for it.”

“Why don’t you go for it?” Yeonjun says, falling for the curve of Beomgyu’s mouth.

“Because, sweetheart,” Beomgyu softly says, “It’ll mean everything if you do it.”

Yeonjun feels something in him twist at the petname, and he has no words left. Just gestures. Just releasing the breath he’s holding and finally pressing his mouth against Beomgyu’s.

It’s brief. Much too brief, so this time, he goes for it carefully and slowly.

The difficult thing about kissing that nobody ever talks about is how easy it is to forget how to do it. There’s kisses that burn through your memory forever, but there’s also the kisses that are so tentative it feels like it’s being carved by touch. This feels like the latter. His mouth knows the movements, knows how to open and close, but he doesn’t know this mouth.

And as he learns this mouth, as Beomgyu parts his lips for him, he thinks this kiss is an eclipse. It casts shadows on every other mouth he’s kissed and lights him up—even with his eyes closed, it feels bright and sunset orange all around.

It makes him wonder why he ever overthought kissing Beomgyu. The way Beomgyu has a hand in Yeonjun’s hair while the other holds him by the nape. The little noise of complaint Beomgyu makes when Yeonjun pulls away for a breath. How despite that, Yeonjun doesn’t even get a breath in, because Beomgyu chases after his mouth and kisses him hungrier than he’d been doing so before. It feels like Beomgyu’s been wanting this for a while too.

It has him smiling into the kiss, which has Beomgyu momentarily pulling away. “Cute,” Beomgyu says to him, which Yeonjun thinks is a word that fits Beomgyu and his pink cheeks more. “You’re so cute. Do you always do that? I can feel you smile. Maybe don’t do that. It’s going to drive me crazy each time—”

Yeonjun kisses him, just to shut him up before he drives his heartbeat up and kills him with how cute he is being right now. Beomgyu makes a surprised noise, which makes him smile again and this time, Beomgyu smiles into the kiss too. Yeonjun pulls away, “You smile when you kiss too!”

“I only did it because you were smiling,” Beomgyu says as his excuse. “Look at you trying to hold back your smile. You’re so handsome when you’re smiling because of me. Let me see it!”

“Stop it,” Yeonjun says, pulling away, embarrassed at how bold Beomgyu is being. It earns him a whine, “No, I wasn’t done with you. Come back. Baby, please.”

“No,” Yeonjun holds him back by a hand. He’s sure he’s so red in the face, which just sharpens Beomgyu’s grin. “I am not your baby. If anything, you’re my baby.”

“Why?” Beomgyu challenges, “Because you’re older? Age has nothing to do with it. You’re my baby, because I want to baby you. I—” Beomgyu cuts himself off.

Yeonjun frowns, “What?”

“I...want to make you smile,” Beomgyu admits, looking away all embarrassed. “You make me want to take care of you all the time. That’s all.”

Yeonjun can’t stop the smile from blooming fully on his face. He leans forward and reaches for Beomgyu’s hand, the way he’s been wanting to all night. He intertwines their fingers and presses a kiss against the back of Beomgyu’s hand. “You already do,” Yeonjun says, “You make me smile all the time. You also make me laugh. A lot. Like, a lot a lot. And I’m really, really happy right now.”

Beomgyu turns, only slightly so, but it’s enough for Yeonjun to grasp his cheek and kiss it. When Yeonjun pulls back, Beomgyu looks at him tenderly, “Why are you happy?”

“Because,” Yeonjun says, falling into Beomgyu and wrapping his arms around his waist. He rests his head on Beomgyu’s shoulder and like they are secrets meant to be said in the dark, he says the reasons to the crook of Beomgyu’s neck, “Because I’m on a date with you. And you let me kiss you. And now I’m holding you. And we’re married.”

Beomgyu laughs softly and brings his hand up to stroke the back of Yeonjun’s head, “Yeah? And why do those things make you happy?”

“Because, Choi Beomgyu,” Yeonjun says, “I like you very much.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Yeonjun doesn’t want to say their first date is life-changing, primarily because Beomgyu already teases him by actually calling it that.

And to be honest, nothing super drastic has happened after their date to be throwing the word life-changing around.

They do the same little things, and the structure of their days are essentially the same. Wake up, do their jobs, spend time together, then sleep.

There are changes, though. They're just...more subtle, like somebody had turned on a light and his life glows a tad bit brighter than before.

It's hard to completely articulate how he feels, but all he knows is that the person to thank for all this light is Beomgyu.

Beomgyu, Beomgyu, Beomgyu.

He’s always thought all the movies were so silly for describing love as a thing that narrows the circumference of the world to a single person. It’s still a little silly, Yeonjun thinks, and he’s not quite in love yet. But it would be a lie to say that Beomgyu doesn’t occupy most of his thoughts throughout the day.

The thought of him puts a certain skip to his step, a little absentmindedness in between meetings, and zeal to be super efficient with his work so he can go home earlier than usual.

He feels a little bit guilty about wanting to go home early, but their division is performing well and they’ve recently secured several high-profile projects. He thinks he’s earned a couple days of going home earlier than usual.

In any case, it’s hard for him to even remember the guilt once he’s home. Not when his husband welcomes him home with hugs and kisses. Some days, he doesn’t even get a chance to take off his shoes before he finds his hands full of Beomgyu kissing him stupid against their front door. He pulls back only after Yeonjun is breathless to ask, “Did you have a good day at work, baby?”

They find themselves going out for dinner dates more. They found this listing of all the best restaurants in Seoul, and they've been slowly but surely going through it. There's this new Vietnamese restaurant they went to recently in Itaewon that they both fell in love with on the list. Beomgyu's determined to try out everything on the list first before they start going on repeats, but Yeonjun's hoping they make that one restaurant an exception.

They go on other types of dates too, like this one time Beomgyu got them tickets for an outdoor cinema experience. It played an older movie, one of the first Batman films, and they had brought blankets (so they could sit on the grass) and packed their own food (so they could have a little picnic as they watched). Another time, they end up at a museum, where Beomgyu gives him the low-down on art history. Beomgyu walked him down the different exhibits and acted as his own personal tour guide. Yeonjun learned a lot of different artists that day, but he thinks he learned more about Beomgyu. It’s in the way he talks about different painters that reveal him. How his voice booms with disdain when he talks about Gauguin but drops into soft dulcet tones when they reach Monet and Van Gogh. How he pauses to admire a Bernini sculpture before giving him background on who even Bernini was. How he completely skips past the whole section of Medieval art with the excuse, it reminds me of when my mother forced me to go to church.

It’s how they’ve been getting to know each other for the past couple of months and still, he realizes there’s a lot left to learn. It really does feel like they’re in some weird, advanced level of dating, but he doesn’t mind because it’s really fun. All the stupid rules surrounding dating are gone, bulldozed by the fact that they’re already married.

It’s during this time too that he finally gets the chance to paint under the careful instruction of Beomgyu himself.

“Wait,” Yeonjun says, squinting at his canvas, “So what should I do?”

“Whatever you want,” Beomgyu says from behind his canvas, “Follow your heart, Hyung.”

So maybe the instructions were less careful and more vague. Yeonjun stands up to see what Beomgyu’s doing, “What are you gonna paint?”

“Whatever my heart tells me to,” Beomgyu says. He looks up at Yeonjun with narrowed eyes, “No, I’m not painting you.”

Yeonjun scoffs, “I wasn’t even going to say that.”

“Uhuh,” Beomgyu teases, “But since you’re here, wanna give me a kiss?”

“No,” Yeonjun says, walking away back to his place. He acts hurt, “I’m just gonna paint you. If it’s ugly, it’s your fault. You taught me nothing.”

Now it’s Beomgyu’s turn to scoff, “This is supposed to be fun. It’s okay if it turns out ugly. You’re not being graded. Just relax, babe.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, but he ends up doing what he’s told. Activities like this, where instructions are vague and don’t have a goal, usually stump him, but he takes a deep breath and focuses. He can do this. He can paint the ugliest painting of Beomgyu and hang it in their living room.

He starts with Beomgyu’s round head, which is an easy enough thing to paint. He’s a circle on a stick but cuddly at the same time, so maybe he should avoid doing a stick figure. He gets lost in figuring out these tiny details and forgets his surroundings until he hears a phone ring.

“Sorry,” Beomgyu grimaces, silencing the call.

“All good,” Yeonjun says, humming as he goes back to painting. It hasn’t even been a minute until he hears the same ringtone.

Beomgyu groans, “If a person isn’t answering, it usually means they’re busy. Ugh, leave a voicemail.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Maybe it’s important. Just answer it.”

“No,” Beomgyu dismisses, “It’s just my agent. They’ve been pestering me to do more work. But I told them I was taking a break and to only bother me for administrative things or charity functions. And I’m already doing people favors.”

Yeonjun frowns, “Maybe you should get a new agent. This one doesn’t seem to respect your wish for time off.”

“I wish,” Beomgyu sighs, “This one’s pretty good though, and they know what they’re doing. They’re just being pushy because I’ve been avoiding a lot of the public engagements they’ve been asking me to do.”

“Why have you been avoiding them?” Yeonjun asks.

Beomgyu doesn’t answer immediately. Yeonjun paints while he waits.

“All of them are abroad,” Beomgyu finally says. “And we haven’t been married for that long, and I didn’t really want to do anything overseas until we got settled in…”

The words make him pause. He puts his brush down and moves his seat, so he can look at Beomgyu properly when he says, “I really appreciate you, you know that right?”

“Hm?” Beomgyu makes a confused noise. “Where is this coming from?”

“Just wanted you to know since it’s something that I’ve been thinking about a lot, but also just because of what you said. I shouldn’t be surprised at this point, but every time I find out all these little things you’ve been doing, it just really hammers the point that you’re so considerate of us,” Yeonjun swallows, “And I just appreciate that.”

“Hyung,” Beomgyu says, touched.

“But baby, look at us,” Yeonjun reaches for his hand and Beomgyu meets him halfway. With their hands clasped together, he says, “This isn’t going anywhere. You don’t have to hold yourself back from these opportunities. You love your work and you deserve to go to all these places and showcase your work. I’ll only feel bad if you keep declining them.”

Beomgyu exhales, “You’re right.”

Yeonjun smiles, “I know.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Okay, Yeonjun knows what he said but now he kind of regrets it.

Not because he doesn’t like that Beomgyu’s off doing great things, but because trips abroad tend to be a couple days long and Yeonjun kind of misses him. That wasn’t a reality he had thought about until he came home from work and Beomgyu wasn’t there to greet him. His dinner doesn’t taste as good, eaten alone. Watching tv feels uninteresting without Beomgyu providing commentary at his side. And worse, when he settles into his own bed at night, he’s cold.

He sighs as he twists and tosses around his bed, unable to sleep. He hates how foreign this bed has become in so little time.

He wonders if he should just sleep on Beomgyu’s bed instead, but he wonders if it would be weird without its owner. He doesn’t think Beomgyu would mind, considering they’ve been sleeping together every night.

He sighs, slowly getting up and crossing over to Beomgyu’s room. It’s not like Beomgyu will know.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Sleeping in Beomgyu’s bed helps, but he still misses him.

It feels pathetic, but when you start getting used to having someone in your life, when someone is baked into your routine, you just miss them when they’re gone.

The only thing that consoles him is that Beomgyu misses him too.

He’s in New York, which is about a thirteen hour time difference. When Yeonjun wakes up, Beomgyu is about to sleep, and when Yeonjun is about to sleep, Beomgyu is just waking up. There’s barely time throughout the day to talk, unless one of them stays up late or wakes up really, really early.

Which is why he gets surprised when he receives a Facetime call from Beomgyu as he’s getting ready to go to bed.

“Hello,” He answers as he reaches over to turn a light on.

“Wow,” Beomgyu’s sarcasm carries so clearly through their thousands of miles difference. “Can I get a more enthusiastic response? Did you even miss me? Are you even sad? Are you not crying every night at my absence?”

“No,” Yeonjun responds, as he gets comfortable in his bed. He’ll move to Beomgyu’s bed after this call. When he hears Beomgyu go on about how offended he was, he smiles, “Do you miss me?”

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, “No. Because you said you didn’t miss me. Rude.”

Yeonjun chuckles and finally notices that Beomgyu was still in bed too, lying on his side. He copies his position and lies on his side too. This way, even if it’s through the screen, it’ll feel like they’re lying in bed together.

“But the truth?” Yeonjun asks.

Beomgyu looks wistful on screen, “I missed you too.”

They let those words lie between them and for a moment, they just stare at each other, floating through the river of their own longing.

Yeonjun breaks the silence first, his words coming out like they’re coming up for air, “When’s your flight home again?”

“In two days,” Beomgyu says.

“It’s not too long, baby,” Yeonjun says, “We’ll be so busy with work, it’ll be here before we know it. How’s everything been for you?”

“Ugh, my English is so rusty, but my agent hired an interpreter so it’s fine. Besides that, I love New York a lot, actually. It’s a bit chilly since it’s winter right now, but everything is so pretty. I should have sent you a photo, but it was snowing and I felt like I was in those snow globes. You went to University here, so you know what I’m talking about, right?”

Yeonjun shakes his head, “Nah, I was in San Francisco actually. On the other side of that country, babe. But I’ve been to New York a couple times for work.”

“Ah, I see,” Beomgyu says, “We should go here for fun someday. I feel like we’d both enjoy it.”

Yeonjun can see it. “You know,” Yeonjun starts, “We do still have our honeymoon to go to. We never went on one.”

Beomgyu snorts, “Imagine if we went on one, right as we got married. It would have been so awkward.”

“Hey! You never know,” Yeonjun says, “Maybe we would have gotten closer much faster. Maybe it would have broken the ice.”

“Our way is nice too,” Beomgyu defends. “Feels like we really worked for it.”

Yeonjun hums. They really did. “Anyway, honeymoon. We should do it. I want to do it.”

“I don’t want to do it in New York, though. I want to go somewhere special,” Beomgyu says.

“We have time to think about,” Yeonjun says, “Given our schedules, we probably can’t go for a while anyway. I’ll have to rearrange things, and it depends on how long we want to go.”

Beomgyu laughs, stretching out on his bed. “It needs to be at least two weeks vacation. Even if we’re just a week away somewhere and then we spend the rest of our honeymoon at home.”

“Anything works for me,” Yeonjun says, “I just want to spend time with you.” Beomgyu makes a pained noise, pouting at the screen, “Don’t say that. That just makes me miss you more. What am I gonna do when you actually properly vocalize that you miss me, huh? I’m gonna end up booking the earliest flight home just to see you.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Okay, okay, I won’t say it then.”

At least, not then. He says it a night later, in a voice message, and sends it to Beomgyu right before he sleeps.

Beomgyu makes good on his promise and comes home a day early, catching him sleeping on his bed. The embarrassment he feels lasts barely a second, making way to the swooping feeling in his chest when he realizes what Beomgyu had done. He doesn’t even get a word into his explanation before Beomgyu is climbing over him, raining kisses on his face.

He thinks he's beginning to understand the term marital bliss.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Unfortunately for them, this marital bliss doesn’t last long.

The moment Beomgyu stops being busy, Yeonjun is suddenly drowning in work—to the point where he actually has to work late nights at the office.

He should be used to late nights at the office. They used to be his life. This used to be where he lived. He’s even slept here before. And yet, every bone in his body protests at being in this office past six pm.

Yeonjun sighs, putting his pen down, and leaning back against his chair. He thinks about how he’s missing dinner with Beomgyu, who’s probably eating by himself just about now. Maybe he’ll eat in the living room and put on Netflix to have something to keep him company. Or maybe, he’ll go out and visit Taehyun, so he won’t have to eat alone.

The thought of it pricks at his heart. Work is work, and it is what it is—but still.

Yeonjun shakes his head, and with it all his regrets about tonight. The only thing he can do is keep his head down and finish work as fast as he can. After all, the faster finishes this, the faster he gets to go home. Maybe he’ll even be able to catch Beomgyu awake.

He picks up his pen and goes back to work.

He falls deep into his paperwork, so much so that he barely catches the knock on his door.

It must be his dinner. He had almost forgotten about it. It really has been so long since he’s eaten dinner at his office, but trust Yeji to be on top of things.

“Come in,” He says, not looking up from his papers. He hears the door open and says, “You can just leave it on the coffee table. Thank you—”

“You know, you should look at the person you’re saying thank you to.”

That voice. Yeonjun immediately looks up and is met with the sweetest sight, “Beomgyu?”

“Ta-da!” Beomgyu grins, holding up a plastic bag, “I brought you dinner. Called your assistant and told her not to buy you dinner.”

“You did?” Yeonjun can’t believe he’s here. It’s actually the first time he’s ever been here, and he stands out in his fluffy hoodie and sweatpants against the sleek, posh furniture of his office.

He looks like home.

“I thought it would be nicer than eating whatever sad takeout you were gonna have,” Beomgyu reasons, setting up the food by the coffee table Yeonjun had pointed out earlier.

Yeonjun finally stands up and goes to him, giving him a hug and kiss on the cheek hello. “Yes,” Yeonjun says, right as he pulls back, “This is much nicer than takeout.”

Beomgyu gives him a pleased smile, opening a tupperware of kimchi, “I’m glad you agree. Anyway, I just felt sad at the thought of you eating takeout, and we had all this extra food at home. I don’t want to distract you from your work though, so I’ll be going—”

Yeonjun makes a noise of protest, “Did you eat already? You’re not bothering me at all. I needed to take a break anyway.”

Need to take a break, Yeonjun can’t help but make fun of himself internally, Didn’t know you knew what that meant.

“Are you sure?” Beomgyu asks, looking at him with eyes that betray his hope, “Because I can just eat at home—”

“So you haven’t eaten yet?” Yeonjun smiles, utterly pleased at the turn of events, “Let’s eat together. I know you don’t like eating alone, and you’re here already.”

Besides, it’s more than enough food for two people.

Beomgyu settles down on the seat next to him, “Okay.”

As they’re eating, a thought pops up in Yeonjun’s head, “How did you get up here, by the way? Security escorted you?”

The question sets Beomgyu off.

Beomgyu puts down his chopsticks with a groan, “They barely did. I told them I was your husband and they took one look at my clothes and didn’t believe me.”

“We need to get you a badge,” Yeonjun decides, “They should have known to let you in. Can’t believe we missed that. I guess it never occurred to me that you would have any reason to ever stop by.”

“Yeah, this building feels a little too stuffy for me. Too corporate,” Beomgyu laughs, “But you’re here, and I think that’s reason enough to stop by.”

Yeonjun swallows his heart, down with the rice he stuffs in his mouth. Cute, cute, cute.

He rarely gets friends visiting him at the office during the workday. At least, not without a scheduled meeting. He knows he’s mostly to blame for that. Everyone knows his days are packed with meetings already or that he had too many things to do to be entertaining people.

But here was someone—and not just anyone, his husband—who will come and stop by just to see him. Just to make sure he was eating well.

“Anyway,” Beomgyu continues his story, “I showed them our wedding ring, and they were like, how are we supposed to know if that ring matches what Choi Yeonjun wears? So I had to resort to pulling up our wedding photos—”

Yeonjun laughs, “You did not—”

“I totally did,” Beomgyu smirks, “Now I’m kind of glad we had a public wedding. They were still kind of suspicious though and were about to call you to confirm, but Yeji caught me as she was leaving. You need to give her a raise, by the way.”

“I pay her well,” Yeonjun retorts back, “I know I’m not easy to work with and manage.”

“I still can’t believe I’m married to a workaholic,” Beomgyu shakes his head.

Yeonjun smiles at his food and softly says, “I’m not as bad as I used to be. I used to sleep on this couch, you know? Only came home to shower and change.”

This was an admission hidden and buried within a story. An embarrassing thing to say out loud, but a part of him (one that’s recently revealed itself) wanted Beomgyu to uncover it. To pick him apart and read what’s hidden between the lines:

I’ve changed because of you. Do you know that?

“Ah, hyung. Even if you tried I wouldn’t let you,” Beomgyu says, so sure of himself and his ability to drag Yeonjun out of the office.

Yeonjun raises a brow, incredibly interested, “Oh? What would you do?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Beomgyu teases, “Try it and you’ll see.”

Something in his smile dared him to try. To fuck around and find out. “Should I?” Yeonjun bites his lip, “Should I not come home tonight?”

“Do it,” Beomgyu says, his voice turning low and soft. All it did was pull Yeonjun closer—close, close, close, only stopping because Beomgyu turns his head to look at him too, a sidelong glance through long dark lashes. “Sleep here so I can call you right before I sleep. Tell you, my bed is comfy and nice and warm but I can’t sleep because something’s missing.”

Yeonjun holds his breath as he hangs onto Beomgyu’s every word.

“What’s missing? You’ll ask,” Beomgyu muses, a slow growing smile on his face. Yeonjun doesn’t understand what’s so amusing. “I’d laugh at you for asking. You should know what’s missing.”

“I should?” Yeonjun asks, watching as Beomgyu nods. “What if I don’t know?”

Beomgyu throws his head back laughing, pulling away. Yeonjun almost follows him. Beomgyu stands up, choosing to walk around to look through his office, “That was cute of you, Hyung. You’re too smart to be pretending not to know.”

Yeonjun stretches on his couch, right before standing up and going back to his desk, “Just playing the same game you’re playing.”

“Game?” Beomgyu dramatically gasps, turning to him, “You think I’m joking? I’ll totally call you—”

“No need,” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, pretending to look over his papers, “I’m definitely coming home tonight.”

“Yeah?” Beomgyu asks, coming to stand beside him, leaning over to look at the files on his desk, “What are you even working on?”

“I have to review the presentation we’re giving tomorrow for a big partnership deal,” Yeonjun explains, pointing at the notes he was making on the slide deck, “There was a last minute change in our strategy, which is why I’m reviewing it this late. We have a pre-meeting right before just to go over any further comments I have.”

“Some big words you’re using here,” Beomgyu squints at a page, “Never thought I’d see them outside of class.”

“You took business classes?” Yeonjun asks. “Thought you were an art major.”

Beomgyu’s mouth twists in distaste, “Yeah, I double majored actually. A compromise. Just in case the art thing didn’t work out.”

Yeonjun can’t imagine him working in an office. It feels wrong. He thinks of Beomgyu’s paintings, how much care he puts in it, how every one of them felt like a child—his blood, his essence on a canvas. Yeonjun is so glad it worked out for him.

“You were probably super bored,” Yeonjun murmurs.

“Some of it was actually interesting,” Beomgyu says, hand moving to rest at the nape of Yeonjun’s neck. Yeonjun fought the urge to lean against it completely. “Taught me a little bit how to at least negotiate my contracts.”

“You don’t use a lawyer?” Yeonjun asks.

“I do,” Beomgyu’s thumb rubs against the side of his neck. “But I like doing a first glance in front of them just so they know I’m not some stupid, stuck-up rich boy they can fool.”

Yeonjun oohs to tease, but it comes from a genuine place. His husband has a spine, made partly of steel, and he ran partly on fire. Beomgyu slaps him on the shoulder, “I do have pride. I’m barely part of the business, but I’m a Choi.”

“Yeah, you’re a Choi alright,” Yeonjun reaches up to lightly touch Beomgyu’s wrist. “Choi Yeonjun’s husband.”

God, Beomgyu makes him feel like a teenager, has him flirting like a teenager too. He cackles when Beomgyu makes gagging noises. “That was terrible. I’m going back. I’m not going to wait for you. Goodbye.”

Yeonjun pulls him back before he gets too far, “Okay, but give me a kiss before you go back.”

“A kiss?” Beomgyu repeats, with a raised brow, “Just a single kiss.”

“Well yeah,” Yeonjun says, glancing at the unlocked door of his office. Not that the unlocked part matters. Nobody else is here. “I actually do have to finish work and I don’t want to sleep here.”

“‘Kay,” Beomgyu agrees, leaning down to kiss him.

Yeonjun cradles his cheek and meets him halfway. He meant it when he said one kiss, but he should have known that he’s too greedy to settle on just one. Thankfully, Beomgyu is too.

What starts out as a short kiss goodbye soon becomes one long open-mouthed kiss to another. A polite hand on a cheek moves way past politeness, settling to a tight grip on Beomgyu’s hip.

“Sit on my lap,” He breathes out in between kisses.

“I shouldn’t,” Beomgyu says after pressing swift successive kisses against his mouth, “If I sit on your lap, I’m going to have to take you home.”

Yeonjun pouts, which Beomgyu presses one last smooch against before finally pulling away.

“Fine,” Yeonjun says, running a hand through his hair. “Drive safe. Don’t wait up for me.”

“I won’t,” Beomgyu says, crossing his arms over his chest. He stands there for a moment, leaning against his desk, then says, “Please come home. I won’t wait up, but—”

“But?” Yeonjun prods.

Beomgyu’s nose crinkles, before shaking his head, “It’s nothing.”

Yeonjun wants to know, wants to ask, but Beomgyu is already moving away. Yeonjun only ends up watching him pack the tupperwares from their dinner back into the plastic bag. He’s only able to say, “Good night,” to a retreating back.

Yeonjun sighs. Rubs his eyes, before staring blankly at his papers.

He’s thought about this before, this side of Beomgyu who keeps his cards close to his chest. He wonders what it would take for Beomgyu to stop hesitating. He wonders if there’s something he could do to convince Beomgyu that he can.

He probably just needs a little bit more time. Maybe he doesn’t trust Yeonjun enough just yet.

He’ll think more about it later. His brain puts its foot down for now, reminding him of the work he still had to finish tonight.

With that thought, he picks up his pen and wills his mind to forget about everything but this proposal in front of him.

He finishes way later into the night, close to midnight. A part of him wanted to sleep on his office couch, but he promised he’d come home. And promise or not, he wanted to be home.

He sped through the streets in his car, mind on auto-pilot, too weary to be thinking of anything else. He thinks he gets home in record time.

He barely remembers the ride up to their floor. Punches their code in with an absent mind. Feels his knees crack when he bends down to toe off his shoes.

He’s aching to lie down by the time he reaches the top of the staircase to his room, but he pauses when he sees light coming out of Beomgyu’s room. The door had been left slightly ajar.

Yeonjun frowns. Beomgyu said he wasn’t going to wait up.

He sighs, ready to say something. Though when he enters Beomgyu’s room, he finds him asleep.

Beomgyu lies curled on his bed, hand gripping his phone tightly. Were you actually going to call? Yeonjun wonders as he brushes the hair off of Beomgyu’s forehead. He leans over and kisses his forehead, lips lingering for a moment.

“Thank you for bringing me dinner,” Yeonjun whispers. “Thank you for thinking of me. I was thinking of you too.”

He pulls Beomgyu’s phone out of his hands, plugs the charger in, and turns off the light. Shuts his door closed.

Even if Beomgyu keeps things from him, it’s fine. It doesn’t change the fact that Beomgyu has genuine feelings for him and cares for him in a way nobody has for a long, long time. Whatever it is, it’s worth waiting for, no matter how long.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

After what feels like an eternity of missing each other, they finally manage to find some time to go out on a proper date.

Naturally, Yeonjun is super excited for it. He makes a reservation at this famous restaurant that’s earned two Michelin stars, and then plans to just walk around Cheonggyecheon stream with Beomgyu. It might be a little chilly, but he thinks it would be nice to just be out.

The night starts off nicely—he got Beomgyu flowers again, a gesture he’d been rewarded kisses for—and then dinner had only elevated the night. The food had been high-class, truly deserving the Michelin stars it had been awarded with.

It’s at Cheonggyecheon that their night gets derailed, though.

They briefly stopped at a cafe to get some hot tea to drink as they walked down the stream. However, after finding a nice spot to sit by, Beomgyu accidentally elbows his tea out of his hands and he ends up having to buy another one.

The cafe is close enough, so he tells Beomgyu that he can just go by himself and return in a couple of minutes.

When he comes back with a fresh cup of tea, he finds Beomgyu with someone else.

At first, he doesn’t know what to make of it. He’s having a hard time recognizing the man Beomgyu’s with, because they’re wearing a dark cap and a face mask.

Yeonjun is about to step in when hears the man say, “I miss you, Beomgyu.”

“You don’t have the right,” Beomgyu says, coldly.

“It’s not what you think. I know how it looks when it all went down, but it’s not what you think. You didn’t even let me explain, you even blocked my number. You said you loved me,” This stranger says, heated with despair, trying to reach for Beomgyu’s hands.

Beomgyu takes a step back, not letting the man touch him, “How dare you? I loved you completely, and you ruined it. I saw everything...what else is there to tell?”

“Then forgive me. We can start over,” He says, desperately, “I still love you. I’ll do anything—”

“I’m married,” Beomgyu hissed, “Leave me alone. If you ever come near me again, I will ruin your career—”

This stranger doesn’t give up easily though. He grabs Beomgyu’s wrist and says, “I don’t care if you’re married. I just want you back in my life—”

“Let go of me,” Beomgyu says, trying to pull his arm away, but this man’s grip is tight, “You’re hurting me.”

Yeonjun’s been watching this whole interaction with dread so heavy he can’t move. There’s so much here to process, he doesn’t even know where to begin. Whoever this stranger is, he’s clearly not a stranger to Beomgyu. Not even close.

Whoever he is, though, he doesn’t have a right to hurt Beomgyu, and it’s the pain on Beomgyu’s face that moves him out of his spot and has him grabbing the man’s arm.

“He says you’re hurting him,” Yeonjun says. He tries not to sound angry, but just looking at this guy has his blood boiling. “Let him go, while I’m still asking nicely.”

This man lets go, but not without asking, “Who are you?”

“I’m his husband,” Yeonjun says, turning to Beomgyu, who’s holding his wrist in his hand. “Are you okay?”

Beomgyu nods, “It just hurts a little. But I’m fine.”

“Do you want to go home?” Yeonjun asks, cradling Beomgyu’s cheek.

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, and that’s all Yeonjun needs to know. He wraps an arm around Beomgyu, tucking him to his side and kissing his temple. He doesn’t even spare this not-stranger a glance as he walks Beomgyu back to his car.

The walk back is silent, even though Yeonjun is brimming with questions. He has an inkling of what that person used to mean to Beomgyu, but he’d rather hear it from Beomgyu himself. There’s a fear that keeps him from asking though, and it’s the possibility that Beomgyu might not tell him, even if he asks.

So he doesn’t ask, and they sit in silence on their way home too.

Back at their home, Yeonjun decides he’ll just give Beomgyu the space for the night and resolves to try to speak to him tomorrow morning.

When he tries to go to his room though, Beomgyu grabs his hand to stop him.

“Are you upset with me?” Beomgyu asks, in a quiet, fragile voice.

“Baby, why would I be upset with you?” Yeonjun reassures him, reaching for his hand and pressing a kiss to the back of it. “I swear I’m not.”

“Then why are you going to your room? Do you not want to sleep with me tonight?” Beomgyu asks.

Yeonjun shakes his head, “I thought that maybe you’d want some space for the night.”

“No,” Beomgyu says, tugging on his hand, “I don’t want to be alone.”

Yeonjun exhales, running a hand through his hair. “Okay, let me just get ready for bed. I’ll join you, I promise.”

Beomgyu lets him go, but not before kissing him long and hard. When Beomgyu pulls away, there’s an unreadable look in his eyes, even as he says, “Thank you.”

Yeonjun doesn’t know what to make of it, but he does keep his promise.

After getting ready for bed, he carefully enters Beomgyu’s room and finds him already lying on his bed. There, on the left side of the bed, is the space where Yeonjun’s taken to sleeping on. Left open for him.

He climbs in, and as has become muscle memory, their bodies naturally turn toward each other. Beomgyu’s head on his shoulder, arm around his waist, and legs tangled together.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu says after a moment. “How much did you hear?”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Yeonjun says, even though he’s aching to know. “I heard most of it...I think.”

“I...I don’t really want to talk about it in depth. At least not right now. Maybe not even tomorrow,” Beomgyu says. He lifts his head, propping himself up with a hand on Yeonjun’s chest, “Is that okay?”

Yeonjun bites his lip, “Would you tell me someday?”

“Yes, I promise,” Beomgyu says, sealing it with a kiss.

Beomgyu pulls away, resting his forehead against Yeonjun’s. Yeonjun nods, “I’m okay with that. Would you...tell me who that was though? So I’m not in the complete dark? I have an idea, but...I don’t want to assume.”

Beomgyu nods, “That’s fair. It’s probably what you’re thinking. He’s my ex-boyfriend. We dated for three years, before I married you. It ended badly. That’s all I can say.”

Three years. That’s a long time to be with someone. The next question is out of his mouth before he can think about it, “Do you still love him?”

“God, no,” Beomgyu’s expression twists in disgust, as if he can’t bear the thought. Yeonjun feels something dislodge in his chest at his answer. He’s so relieved. Beomgyu’s expression softens, “I wouldn’t have married you if I was still in love with him. Okay?”

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, stroking Beomgyu’s hair. “Let’s go to sleep.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Yeonjun tries hard not to think about Beomgyu’s ex.

Still, sometimes, he catches himself thinking about it. The hurt in Beomgyu’s voice. The desperation in his ex’s. The three years they spent together. A relationship like that couldn’t have been anything but serious.

He knows he could probably ask Kai and be able to get answers, but he decides to trust Beomgyu on it.

Beomgyu promised, and someday, he’ll know.

In the meantime, he’ll focus on their relationship, and what better way to do that than to focus on preparing for their honeymoon.

Their honeymoon destination is Niseko, Japan, and they’re going at the heart of winter.

(When Yeonjun had first told his friends that, he’d been met with confusion at first. Kai had frowned, Aren’t honeymoons usually somewhere hot? Somewhere tropical with beaches?

You guys could have gone to Boracay or if you wanted somewhere farther, you could have gone to the Maldives, Soobin had whined. You only get married once!

Yeonjun felt defensive at their words, Niseko is perfect for us. It’ll be quieter and more intimate—

Oh, Soobin smirked. You wanted it to be cold so your husband could hold onto you—)

Yeonjun put a stop to that conversation fast. He wasn’t even thinking of those kinds of things. He’s sure Beomgyu wasn’t either. They just wanted to be alone, a chance to forget the world and focus only on them.

They can vacation anywhere else in the future, but they can honeymoon only once. They want to make the most of it, and he feels that’s best done at a place where they can focus on them and their relationship. Forget the world. Forget the Chois. Forget exes and everyone else.

Just Yeonjun and Beomgyu.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Almost everything is set for the honeymoon. Yeonjun just has a couple things left to set up and arrange at work, then he should also be good to go.

One of them is submitting his request for time off.

"I'm taking time off work," Yeonjun says, casually, handing the appropriate paperwork to his father, the CEO.

His father finally looks up from his work at that, "You know this has to go to Human Resources first, right?"

Yeonjun sighs, pointing to the files, "It already has. And as I directly report to you, all I need is your express approval."

"Your secretary could have done this, son," His father finally grabs the files and takes a moment to read it. Yeonjun tries not to look impatient. "Oh? You're taking time off for the honeymoon?"

"Yes," Yeonjun answers, short. "I've cleared my schedule, assigned my responsibilities to appropriate people who can cover them, and moved forward everything that I can. In addition, I've recently secured the deal with Blue Label entertainment company."

His father raises a brow, setting the files back down on his desk, "Why are you telling me all of this? Did you think I wouldn’t let you go on your honeymoon?"

Yes, Yeonjun thinks. There is nothing Yeonjun hasn't received from his parents that hasn't been earned.

"Don't look at me like that," His father frowns, reading his non-response for the accusation that it is. "You always work hard and I recognize that. You've done amazing work for the company. And a honeymoon is a honeymoon. I'm surprised it took you so long to take it." More quietly, his father continues, "I'm glad you're taking it. I'm glad your marriage is going well."

Yeonjun doesn't know what it is about his father's words that annoy him. He's never been the rebellious sort of son nor has he ever been the type of son who spoke back to their parents. But there's something about his father being glad that he's taking time off to go on his honeymoon that pricks at him.

Maybe it's the attempt at closeness. Growing up, he's never been close to his father. If his father loved him, it was a love so mild Yeonjun could have barely felt it, and it was further eclipsed by the love his mother had for him. Though that, Yeonjun wasn't sure if he could call love either.

In any case, he's twenty-eight now and his relationship with his father has barely changed. He prefers the business relationship they've cultivated. It's cleaner, less messy. He's better as a boss than a father. Now, he gives Yeonjun what he needs.

And maybe it's because he's twenty-eight now, with all the cards shaken up and laid out on the table, that he says this, "I don't understand your surprise. The marriage is arranged, there's a lot of work to be done at the company, and you know how I am about my work."

His father looks taken aback, "Son—"

"And please," Yeonjun says, unyielding, "you don't have to pretend you care about my marriage. If this is about what I said last time to mother's comment about the divorce—"

"No, no," His father says, pained, "Ignore your mother. You know how she is. I'm genuinely glad it's going well. I know it's arranged and our motivations for it...were more on the practical side, but it's good to see you happy."

"Happy," Yeonjun repeats in disbelief. He looks imploringly at his father, "Isn't it a little too late for sentiments like this?"

His father gingerly stands, which Yeonjun watches warily. When did his father grow so old like this? "My son, I know I haven't been the best father, which is something I have thought about a lot. It's something I've been hoping to correct. Yeonjun—"

His father reaches for him, and Yeonjun hates, hates, hates how he doesn't back away. How a part of him craves this, has always craved it.

His father pats him on the shoulder, the gesture of it awkward. If this was years ago when he was still a child, it would have been enough.

But he's twenty-eight now. He's not a child anymore. And it'll take more than this—this awkward pat on the shoulder and small words backed with no action—for Yeonjun to forgive him.

If this relationship ever mends, it'll be on his own terms.

"You know, I didn't realize this until recently," Yeonjun smiles, though it holds no sweetness, and his father's hand slowly drops back to his side. "But I've been an open wound all my life. And you've done nothing to fix it. You've never even acknowledged it at all. I know mother never will. I've always wondered if that's because you've never seen it, busy as you are with work. But you know what? Beomgyu sees it, and it kills me," his voice breaks into a whisper at the word, "that the only person who's acknowledged it properly is the stranger you married me to. And it makes me wonder if you've seen and just chose to look away. I don't know what version of the truth hurts less."

"If you want to be a good father, you have to earn it." Yeonjun says, because a part of him will always be molded in his parent's image. His father's eyes look glassy and Yeonjun looks away, unable to take it. Finally, he says, "Now please, could you approve my vacation paperwork?"

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

They arrive at their hotel in Niseko with bodies weary from multiple connecting flights.

“I’m starting to rethink our honeymoon destination, babe,” Beomgyu says, lugging his suitcase up the stairs, “Or at least, your decision to get us the suite on the highest floor.”

Yeonjun snorts, “Maybe if you worked out with me, you wouldn’t be struggling. Do you need some help?”

“No, I got it,” Beomgyu says, but he stops on the step he’s on to catch his breath, “I can do this. Just stay there and look sexy, so I have motivation to keep climbing.”

Yeonjun shakes his head, watching him carry his suitcase with so much determination you’d think he was saving the world or something. Beomgyu finally makes it to their floor and gives Yeonjun a smug look, as if to say, see, I could do it!

Yeonjun puts his arm around his shoulders and squeezes. “Good job,” He teases.

Beomgyu leans his head on his shoulder and puckers his lips, “Thank you, now give me a kiss.”

“You never miss an opportunity, huh?” Yeonjun says, giving him a quick smooch that causes Beomgyu to whine. “Let’s kiss later. We haven’t even made it to our rooms yet. Come on.”

Their suite is pretty easy to find, since he booked the penthouse suite. They swipe their room cards and go in.

Yeonjun has stayed at a lot of expensive hotels, often in different countries, so he’s a bit used to beautiful, ostentatious accommodations. But as they walk into their suite, as he’s greeted by beautiful floor-to-ceiling windows that present snowy peaks of Niseko, he’s admittedly breathless at the view.

Beomgyu leaves his suitcase by the door and rushes to the windows. “This is super nice,” He says, turning back to him. “Tell our vacation planner that they did a good job.”

“I picked this place!” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, as he closes the door behind him. “He did help, but I chose a lot of it.”

Beomgyu walks back to him, his arms wrapping around Yeonjun’s waist. “Oh yeah?” Beomgyu coos, “You did so good, baby.”

Yeonjun runs a hand through his hair, feeling pleased, “It is super nice, right?”

Beomgyu laughs, “Yes, an A plus for you.”

“Oh, I love that,” Yeonjun nodding, seriously, “Keep giving me these grades. They’re music to my ears.”

Beomgyu smacks his shoulder, letting him go. “Stop that! I am not encouraging this.” Beomgyu walks away, grabbing his suitcase, “I’m going to go check out our bedroom.”

Yeonjun laughs, soon following him too, only to see Beomgyu stop in his tracks. “Why’d you stop?”

Beomgyu turns on him, looking so betrayed. “Hyung. How could you?”

“How could I what?”

Beomgyu gapes at him with disbelief, pointing to a room, “What is this?”

“What is what? Babe, use more words.”

Beomgyu points to another room, unimpressed. “Why are there two rooms? Are we sleeping separately?”

Yeonjun’s brows knit together, “We can if you want?”

“Why is that even an option?” Beomgyu narrows his eyes, “This is a honeymoon, Hyung. You’re so stupid. You get an F for this.”

Beomgyu makes an agonized noise, before stalking into one room and throwing himself on the bed.

It takes a promise of a thousand kisses and a half (please don’t ask about the negotiations process) for Beomgyu to forgive him.

“I’m sorry I gave you an F,” Beomgyu says, in between kisses. He looks too pleased for someone who was pinned down and tickled into submission. “You’re not stupid. I overreacted. You were just being considerate. Besides, it’s an easy fix. We’ll just use one bed.”

“You’re so awful,” Yeonjun manages to get out, before Beomgyu pulls him back in for another kiss. Beomgyu is insatiable today. When he manages to pull away, long enough to catch his breath, he says, “It’s literally just how we have it at home.”

Beomgyu raises a brow, “Yes, and we are not at home.”

Yeonjun gets off him, rolling on his back and gets a glance of the world outside their window. All he can see is white snow. It really does feel like they’re the only two in the world.

He grabs Beomgyu’s hand and presses a kiss to it, turning to him, “No. We’re definitely not.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Maybe they call it a honeymoon because it’s a moon’s worth of sweetness packed in such a short period of time.

With Beomgyu threatening to throw his phone out of his window if he even dares to check his work email, he ends up fully checked out of work.

Their days usually begin like this:

They wake up and just do whatever they want. If they wake up early, they spend the morning tangled up in each other before hauling themselves out of bed for breakfast. If they wake up late (which is really mostly just Yeonjun being held captive by a cuddly Beomgyu until he’s ready to wake up), they get room service for breakfast and get ready to hit the slopes.

Each successive day they spend in Niseko, they try hard to level up their skiing skill. They humble themselves to the kiddie slopes on the very first day, cheering and laughing at each other’s successes and losses.

Some days, when they want a break from skiing, they take their time and explore the surrounding villages in the area. There’s some small but highly regarded restaurants that they try. There’s cute little souvenir shops that they can peruse. There’s even museums that focus on what the town was like before it became the skiing destination that it is today.

When they take a break like this, it’s usually because their bodies are sore and aching from the previous day’s activity. For that, the town also has something to offer: their healing hot springs. There’s private ones they can use and it feels like heaven on earth, soaking in the hot waters surrounded only by the trees. The pain and the stress—from almost everything—melts away. They don’t remember any other time they’ve felt more relaxed.

And whether they’re ending the day tired or relaxed, the one constant is this: they always welcome the night happy.

Some nights, they watch a movie until they fall asleep. Some nights, their bodies are so tired they fall right into it the moment they get into bed.

Some nights their bodies are thrumming with too much energy. They lie there, holding each other in silence long past after even the movie credits have ended.

Nights like these, they talk.

"Tell me something I don't know about you," Beomgyu says, listening to the beat of his heart. "A secret or just something you've never told anyone."

"When I was younger," Yeonjun says, feeling himself sink into the past, "I had this dream that I would get away from my life somehow. Nevermind that I'm the heir to my parent's fortunes and dreams, I had plans upon plans. I would leave everything behind and start a new life in America when I went for university. I would make my own name and I'd do whatever the hell I want. Date whoever without wondering if their name would pass my mother's approval. I'd have a new family, new dreams, new life."

"What happened to those plans?" Beomgyu says against his chest, arms tightening around his waist, as if Yeonjun would go through with those plans now and fly away.

Yeonjun shrugs, "Time, I guess? I got so busy focusing on pleasing my parents, on working hard to meet their approval, that I lost sight of anything else. I kept saying someday, someday, and then I got older and I got scared. What if I was free but I was nothing? What if I got away but I was more miserable? I was a bird in a cage with its door open, but the cage felt like home. I don’t know...looking back now, I was only twenty then, but I felt so old already. I came back home when I was twenty-three.”

"Twenty-three is still super young," Beomgyu comments.

"Compared to the twenty-eight that I am now, yes," Yeonjun agrees, "But back then I felt like my life was already made with bricks. Built. Unchangeable. Unmoveable. Like this was it and there was nothing I could do about it. That it's too late to do anything. Which was crushing, you know? Everybody else had this nice childhood where they got to do whatever they wanted. Youth was supposed to be the most beautiful moment of your life, but nobody ever tells you what to do when you don't get the chance to make it beautiful. It's not fair."

There's an undeniable hurt that slips into his voice, and at that, Beomgyu pulls himself up to a sitting position, and Yeonjun has to look up at him.

"Babe," Beomgyu frowns, "Tell me you still don't think this way."

Yeonjun tries to smile for him, tries to lighten it up, "It's not that I'm unhappy. Like, I have you and we're on our honeymoon and baby, I love this—" Beomgyu leans down to kiss him and Yeonjun meets him and takes and takes whatever Beomgyu has to give.

"I just want you happy," Beomgyu says when he pulls away. His voice aches like Yeonjun’s pain is his own. "I know we can't always be, but I don't ever want you to feel trapped. I don't ever want to make you feel like the way your parents made you feel."

"You don't. You never have," Yeonjun holds his hand and presses a kiss against the back of it. "I just think about the past sometimes and wonder how I would have turned out if I did everything like I intended to. If I wasn't so scared. I just feel like I missed out on something big when I was younger, and I just mourn the loss every now and then. It doesn't mean I'm not happy with you right now, but it really makes you think, right?"

Beomgyu’s frown looks heavy, like he's the one holding all of Yeonjun's pain.

After a moment, he says, "I used to believe that youth was special and extraordinarily beautiful too. Everything was new and I think there's a certain beauty to that. That even in our struggle, we were so beautiful. Looking back on it now, I don't think that's true. And the older I get, the more I'm convinced that the people who believe that peaked in high school or university. I think our youth could be beautiful, but I don't understand how other ages of our life couldn't be beautiful either. I don't think happiness or beauty could be measured or compared. The flavor of it is just different."

Beomgyu sighs, "I just...think it's sad if youth was the peak. Life is so long. And I think you're so valid to be sad over the loss, but also, I hope you're more comforted by the fact that better things can and will come."

Beomgyu's words are a comfort, in the same way that everything else about him is too. And for the moment, he is comforted, but he knows himself, knows the routines his brain loves to lean into when he's tired and low and feeling the loneliest color of blue in the world. So he says, "I am comforted, but if I forget, could you just remind me?"

"Oh, Hyung," Beomgyu leans down again and kisses him on the forehead, and Yeonjun nearly cries at the tenderness of it. "We'll make so many good and beautiful memories that I won't have to. But if you forget, just tell me, and I'll hold you like this and remind you again and again."

It’s moments like this that make Yeonjun feel like all the pain of the past has been worth it. His early life had been cold like winter, but it doesn’t hurt as much knowing it gave him Beomgyu, something as bright as the lemons and oranges that were born during the harshest season of the earth.

Because even now, with snow falling heavily around the tiny home they’ve built around each other, he feels perfectly warm.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

For all their emphasis on being in a more secluded honeymoon destination, they do end up spontaneously deciding to spend the night in Sapporo.

They leave early in the morning, taking only one suitcase with them filled with enough clothes to get them through the trip. They’re coming back to Niseko after all.

It’s a two hour train ride to Sapporo from there. Two hours is a long time, which they spend either asleep or just staring out the window, watching the world outside pass by in a blur of whites and blues. Beomgyu falls asleep within the first ten minutes, head lolling about until Yeonjun presses it against his shoulder.

He eventually falls asleep too, with Beomgyu’s hands in his lap and the sight of their rings glinting under the soft morning light in his mind.

Once their train arrives at the station, they’re woken up by the conductor’s announcement.

They stand outside the station, watching their breaths mingle with the air. Beomgyu shivers, even though his body is wrapped up in a fluffy coat and his neck is hidden by a thick scarf and his hands are kept warm by mittens. Beomgyu burrows himself by Yeonjun’s side, and maybe now, Yeonjun can admit that Soobin was partly right.

He does want it to be cold, so that his husband could hold onto him like this.

“Did you find us a place?” Beomgyu asks. “Maybe we should have thought this through a little more.”

Yeonjun turns to him, “Oh, now you want to be less impulsive. What did you say last night? Hyung, we’ll figure it out. Stop overthinking it like a hag.”

Beomgyu pouts, “Because I was cold! And you were on your phone, far away, and not paying attention to me. What was I supposed to do?”

“How old are you, honey?” Yeonjun pinches Beomgyu’s cheek. They turn pinker at the squeeze. “I can’t believe you bullied me into this. We didn’t even book a hotel. What if they’re all fully booked?”

“They won’t be,” Beomgyu says, pushing his hand away and rubbing his cheek. “I’m just complaining right now because it’s cold. You’re not stressed, are you?”

Yeonjun wasn’t, but now that the possibility of not finding a hotel is brought up, he finds that yes, he is a little stressed. What would they do?

“You are!” Beomgyu shakes his head, “Don’t be, babe. Hand me your phone. I’ll handle it.”

And Beomgyu does handle it, even if he has to take off his mitten to work the phone and he has to blow on his hands to warm them up. It doesn’t even take him that long to get them a place to stay.

“Here,” Beomgyu says, handing his phone back to him. “Let’s quickly get a taxi so we can drop off our luggage and go exploring.”

“Hey,” Yeonjun says and waits for Beomgyu to turn to him before he presses a kiss to his cheek.

Beomgyu blinks, “What was that for?”

Yeonjun shrugs, averting his eyes, “I don’t know. For taking care of me, I guess.”

Beomgyu softens, “It’s nothing. You would do the same for me.”

It’s easy from there. They check-in at their hotel to drop off their luggage. From then on, it’s an exercise in spontaneity led by Choi Beomgyu, who claims that all Yeonjun has to worry about is holding his hand.

And what does a day trip led by Beomgyu look like?

It’s pretty fun. They take the train to get to the center of the city and then they begin to explore starting there. They’re both well-traveled and have seen more tourist spots than either one can bear, so they spend their day just walking around. It’s a nice way to discover a city without the burden of having to see certain sights just because they’re supposedly famous.

This way, they end up stumbling into a variety of things. First of which is an honest-to-god Snow Festival that neither of them knew was happening but are super stoked about. It’s an amazing parade of ice sculptures, and they go around and try to decide which one they think is the best. Yeonjun thinks the best one is the sculpture of an actual temple. It looks too real and detailed not to be the best. Beomgyu thinks the sculpture of Pikachu is the best. When Yeonjun asks why, Beomgyu says it’s because it evokes an emotional response from the heart. Yeonjun thinks he chose it just because he thinks it’s cute.

Another thing they stumble upon is this amazing restaurant for Sapporo ramen. It’s tucked in behind an alley and they only find it because of the line beginning to gather outside it. It’s a gem of a find; the ramen is savory-sweet, the combination of the salt coming from the miso-based broth and the sweet-leaning flavors of the corn. It’s so good he even risks the threat of murder by stealing a slice of chashu from Beomgyu’s ramen.

After that, they end up topping off their lunch with a trip to White Lover park. Beomgyu had pulled him towards it with starry eyes, and Yeonjun was surprised to see that it was more of a confectionary factory than anything else. They take their time exploring the place, watching experts make chocolate and letting themselves be lured into buying them too. Yeonjun’s not a fan of sweets, especially white chocolate, but Beomgyu’s sweet tooth craves it. He lets Beomgyu feed him some, and they’re pretty good. But that’s probably only because Beomgyu’s the one feeding him.

And because the world is small, they stumble into someone he knows too. In Sapporo of all the goddamn places.

“Choi Yeonjun!” He hears someone call him as he’s waiting for Beomgyu to come out of the restroom.

He’s wrapped in a hug before he can even process who it is. The person pulls away and to say he’s shocked is an understatement, “Jiwoo-noona?”

“Yeonjun,” Jiwoo smiles brightly, taking him in. “You look good. I did a double-take just now, because I thought I saw someone familiar. And I was right! Don’t know anybody else this tall and good-looking.”

“Noona,” He says, embarrassed. She’s always been so direct, and he sees that she hasn’t changed. Same old Jiwoo, with her sharp hair cut short and sharper personality.

She hits him on the shoulder, “You haven’t changed! Still can’t take a compliment without wanting to die, huh? How have you been?”

“I’ve been fine,” Yeonjun says vaguely, not wanting to get into a full blown catch-up in the middle of a street, “What about you? What are you doing here?”

Jiwoo sighs, running her hands through her hair, “I’ve been so busy. You know how it is in the fashion industry, it’s always about trying to chase the new thing. Being ahead of the future, so that we can set the trends.”

“Same job, then?” Yeonjun asks, “Still working for that fashion boutique company?”

“Yup,” Jiwoo nods, before smiling slyly at him, “Unless…you have a spot at yours?”

Yeonjun laughs, “You really, really haven’t changed. I’ll see if anything’s open, just send me an email in case I forget.”

Jiwoo exclaims, “An email? Choi Yeonjun, am I dirt to you?” She pulls out her phone, “I am not sending a work email to you. That’s weird. Is your number still the same?”

“I thought you deleted my number,” Yeonjun raises a brow.

“I was just kidding when I said that. Is that why you never bothered texting me?” Jiwoo narrows her eyes. She sighs looking away, “I...understood why you did it. It was decent of you to let me know.” She looks back at him with a considering glance, “I’m still fond of you...Jun, if you ever change your mind—”

“Noona,” Yeonjun shakes his head, uncomfortable at where her next words were about to lead. “I’m married now.”

She pouts at him, “I said if you ever change your mind later. In any case, we should definitely catch up. How long are you in Sapporo?”

How does Yeonjun respond to this without leading her on? Before he can come up with an answer, he hears somebody else call his name, “Hyung!”

He turns and he sees Beomgyu walking up to him with a bright smile on his face, grabbing a hold of his arm, before turning to Jiwoo, “Oh, hello.”

Jiwoo smiles, “You must be the husband.”

“Yup, that’s me,” Beomgyu chirps. He doesn’t extend a hand when he introduces himself, “Choi Beomgyu. And who are you?”

“Kim Jiwoo,” She introduces, though she glances at Yeonjun when she says that. “Yeonjun’s old friend. Just saw him as I was walking around and thought, what a coincidence.”

“Ah, Hyung has never mentioned you,” Beomgyu pouts at him, “Any friend of Hyung’s is a friend of mine. Are you busy? Would you like to have dinner together? I would love to get to know you more.”

Yeonjun is praying Jiwoo says no, and for once, his prayers are answered. She smiles politely, “Sorry, I’ve got plans tonight already. Maybe some other time. It was nice meeting you, Beomgyu. Jun, it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you too, Noona,” Yeonjun says, feeling like he dodged a bullet when they say their goodbyes.

But as the day goes on, it doesn’t feel that way.

Beomgyu’s bright demeanor darkens, like the sky as its sun sets slowly but surely in the horizon. Yeonjun doesn’t feel anything amiss at first.

Beomgyu talks to him like nothing’s wrong, laughs at all the right places, and holds onto him tight. But by the time they get to dinner, Beomgyu’s playing with his food, which doesn’t feel right. They’ve been walking around all day, so he should be famished.

But when he asks Beomgyu what’s wrong, all he gets is this: “I’m just tired, Hyung. Do you think we can go back to our hotel room?”

Even then, he tries not to read into it. It makes sense that one would be tired, but when he tries to kiss Beomgyu on the lips, he turns his head and his mouth awkwardly lands on his cheek.

And when they get back to the hotel room, Beomgyu immediately pulls away, making a bee line for his clothes and enters the bathroom with a few bare words.

He’d been fine, Yeonjun thinks, until Jiwoo. Fuck, how much did he hear? Yeonjun replays that conversation back, but thinks it’s fine? He had drawn the line clearly with her. Besides, if Beomgyu had problems with it, he wouldn’t have invited her for dinner. He would have told Yeonjun immediately if anything was wrong, so maybe that’s not it.

But if not that, then what?

Yeonjun doesn’t remember doing anything wrong. But that doesn’t mean he didn’t do anything wrong either. He’s about to tear his hair out when Beomgyu steps out of the bathroom in pajamas and eyes a watery red.

“Baby,” Yeonjun stands up immediately, feeling like his heart’s been pierced through, “What’s wrong? Were you crying?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Beomgyu says, hiding his face by drying his hair with a towel.

Yeonjun understands the need for space. He does, he really does. And any other time, he’d give it, but every part of him says this is something they shouldn’t sleep on. Especially when he feels like he’s the cause of it. He walks up to him, bending low to make eye contact, and says, “Beomgyu, I think we should talk about it.”

“Not right now,” Beomgyu says, moving away again to avoid his gaze.

“Then when?” Yeonjun asks, wanting to plead, don’t pull away, not from me.

“I don’t know,” Beomgyu sighs, sounding tired and weary and a little bit of something else. Frustrated, maybe, but Yeonjun can’t tell for sure. It feels like Beomgyu is closing up, with every step he takes. “Just leave it.”

Yeonjun bites his lip, “Is it something I did? Beomgyu—”

“Yeonjun-hyung.” Beomgyu says. His name has never sounded so harsh coming out of Beomgyu’s mouth. “I said to just leave it.”

Beomgyu starts stalking away to the other side of the room, and Yeonjun can’t help but follow him, grabbing a hold of his hand. But it’s barely in his grasp, before Beomgyu takes it away from him.

It reminds him of how easily good things can slip away in the span of a moment, and something desperate claws its way through him, “Don’t walk away from me, please. Beomgyu, come on—”

“God,” Beomgyu angrily curses as he whirls to face him, “Can you please leave me alone for a second? Can you leave me to just process this before we talk about this? Can’t you see that I’m trying hard to be composed about this?”

Again, if it were anything else, Yeonjun would. But he feels so strongly in his gut that this will only fester if he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t want Beomgyu to go to bed angry at him, especially when he doesn’t even know what Beomgyu is angry about.

“What are you trying to process?” Yeonjun says, wanting to tear his hair out. “I’m hoping it’s not this, but I can’t think of anything else. Is this about Jiwoo-noona?”

Beomgyu gives him a withering look, “Jiwoo-noona?”

“Yes!” Yeonjun confirms, eyes widening in disbelief at Beomgyu’s tone. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Beomgyu, we’re married.”

“That’s not what it looked like back there,” Beomgyu crosses his arms, looking away.

Yeonjun frowns, “She’s just a friend.”

Beomgyu scoffs, “She’s not just your friend. She’s literally your ex-girlfriend. Do you think I’m stupid? Do you think I didn’t hear her ask for your number? That she wasn’t inviting you out even though she knew you were already married?”

“So, you did hear that,” Yeonjun says, which ends up being the completely wrong thing to say because it just darkens Beomgyu’s expression even more. “How...did you know she was my ex?”

“You might not have cared who you were going to marry, but I did,” Beomgyu says, like the reminder pains him. “I told you. I did my research. And that’s the last person you dated before you married me. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Yeonjun swallows, “Because...I thought it didn’t matter. It was a good break-up and we promised to stay as friends.”

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything to that for an agonizing moment, before nodding. That’s all he says though, and it’s just not enough.

“You have no reason to be jealous,” Yeonjun says, wanting badly to reach out and touch him. He doesn’t think Beomgyu would let him though. “I promise. Don’t be. I’m yours.”

“You say that now,” Beomgyu says, sounding out of reach. “But maybe later, you’ll feel differently. I mean, it’s not like you wanted to marry me in the first place. I knew that from the very beginning and I still fell for you. I still fell hard enough that I excused the fact that I’m always the one making the first move, that I always have to pull what you want out of you. I used to get scared of making requests of you, because I didn’t want you to say yes just to please me. What if your mother told you to keep me happy, so this marriage wouldn’t fall through? Am I forcing you into this? Maybe,” Beomgyu swallows, shaking, “you don’t want to be with your ex, but maybe there’s somebody else you want to give your heart to? Is that something I should be worried about? Is there going to be other people in this marriage—”

“Baby, no,” Yeonjun says with horror, grabbing a hold of his hands and trying to unfurl them from the fists they’d become.

Beomgyu continues, as if he didn’t hear him, gaze hard and intolerable, “If there’s going to be other people, you have to let me know now. I don’t care if this marriage is arranged. I don’t care if it’ll plunge your parents’ or mine’s companies into bankruptcy. I’ve been cheated on and used for my parents’ name before and I refuse to suffer through that again. If you put me through that, I will leave you and take half of your assets.”

Yeonjun barely even knows where to begin. There’s so much to parse through with what Beomgyu’s said, but he figures he’ll start with the words that stand out the most, “You’ve been cheated on?”

Beomgyu doesn’t answer. But he doesn’t need to. His silence speaks of shame, and Yeonjun can hear it clearly. Slowly, the pieces come together and create a picture that starts making sense.

“Your ex,” Yeonjun says, “That one we met. That one you didn’t want to talk about. He’s the one who cheated on you.”

Beomgyu nods, and the confirmation fills Yeonjun with the understanding of why good people commit murder. Right there and then, Yeonjun wishes he had asked Kai for all the information he could get on Beomgyu’s ex. He wishes he had punched the guy when he’d seen him.

But this isn’t about how Yeonjun feels right now. This is about Beomgyu and how scared he feels that Yeonjun might do the same thing to him.

“I’m sorry that he did that to you,” Yeonjun says, cupping Beomgyu’s cheeks, “Nobody deserves to be cheated on, least of all you.”

Beomgyu blinks and a tear slips out. Yeonjun wipes it with his thumb, and somehow, it’s that gesture that breaks Beomgyu down. “I’m sorry,” Beomgyu cries.

This time, Yeonjun doesn’t hesitate to gather him up in his arms. He holds him, stroking the back of his head until his tears subside. And when Beomgyu’s done, he doesn’t mention how tight Beomgyu’s hold on his shirt is. He doesn’t mention his tear-soaked shoulder. He doesn’t say anything at all until Beomgyu breaks the silence.

With his wet cheek and red nose, Beomgyu tells him, “Hyung, I promise I’m not in love with him.”

Yeonjun makes a surprised noise, “I know. I believe you.”

“I don’t know why it still hurts. I’ve moved on from this. I’m over him,” Beomgyu says, “I swear I am.”

“And I believe you,” Yeonjun stresses, “I wish it didn’t hurt you still, but I understand if it still does. Even if you’re over him. That kind of thing, that kind of hurt almost always outlasts the event. Do...do you want to talk about it?”

Beomgyu sighs, “Yeah...yeah, I think you should know.”

They sit on their bed, and Yeonjun waits patiently for Beomgyu to begin, “I don’t know how much you know about him, but he’s an idol. He’s the reason I became really popular actually, because he was a fan of my work and he spoke about it on SNS. Anyway, because he’s an idol, we had to keep it a secret that we were dating and that went on the whole time we were together. But on New Year’s, Dispatch came out with this story that he was in a relationship, with evidence and everything,” Beomgyu smiles bitterly at him, “It was with someone else, another idol, and I thought at first that maybe it was a mistake, but their companies went ahead and confirmed it too. They’re both really popular, so their fans were actually super happy for them. I...met up with him only once after, to properly break up with him and give him back everything he ever gave me. And then I never talked to him again, until we saw him at Cheonggyecheon.”

“I really thought I’ve moved on from it, but today, seeing you with your ex, I just lost my mind,” Beomgyu says with a frown, “At first, I was just annoyed because how can she just say that when you’re already married and act perfectly normal when talking to me. But then, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. And the more I thought about it, the more I spiraled until I couldn’t see straight and all I could think about was the possibility that you’d leave me for somebody else too.”

He grabs ahold of Beomgyu’s hand, both of which were clenched by his sides, and unfurls his fingers so that he can hold them. “You have to know that there’s not going to be anybody else. I don’t know how much words mean to you right now, but I swear to you on everything that I have, it’s just you. And just in case it needs to be said, I wouldn’t want you to bring anybody else into our marriage. I don’t want an open relationship. Is that okay with you?”

“Yes,” Beomgyu says, sounding and looking so small. Yeonjun wants to hold him again. “Is there anything else you want? For us?”

His question reminds Yeonjun of what he’d said earlier, “What I want...I don’t know what I want fully. I just know that I want you, and I’m sorry if you feel like you’re always the one making the first move,” Yeonjun pauses, trying to find the right words to say, “I’m still learning to be okay with chasing after what I want. To actually voice it out. But I’m trying really, really hard.”

Yeonjun sighs, squeezing Beomgyu’s hands, “And I’m not doing that for my parents. I’m doing that for you, because you mean so much to me.”

And if Yeonjun’s being honest, he’s doing it for himself too. When you grow up with parents who never seem to love you unless you’re doing well, you grow up with the idea that you’re only wanted when you please someone.

But Beomgyu has never made him feel that way. Beomgyu always makes Yeonjun tell what he wants first, before saying anything. And it’s not about pleasing Beomgyu so that Beomgyu would want him. It’s about reciprocating the gesture, so that the person he cherishes is happy too. And he loves that he gets to practice that here, that he gets to prove to his younger self who was so convinced he’d been cursed because his parents never taught him how to love that he absolutely can. You’re not ruined, he wants to say.

His words seem to have thawed Beomgyu completely. “Hyung,” Beomgyu says, touched.

“Come here,” Yeonjun says, patting his lap and Beomgyu climbs on without hesitation. Yeonjun lets him straddle his lap, simply wrapping his arms around Beomgyu’s waist, just as Beomgyu wraps his arms around his shoulders. This, Yeonjun thinks, this is how close they should always be.

“I’m sorry again,” Beomgyu says, “For blowing up on you. I just got scared. I shouldn’t have thrown the fact that you didn’t want to marry me when I know how it’s been for you with your parents. This is an arranged marriage, it was for my name—”

Yeonjun cuts him off, “It doesn’t matter how it started, because what I feel for you right now has nothing to do with your family’s name. It’s purely just you. I love coming home to you for dinner. I love doing all sorts of fun things with you on the weekends. I like going to bed with you. I even worked super hard to get this much time off work, so we can spend all this time together on our honeymoon. You’ve upended my sad life and made it happy, Beomgyu. You and only you.”

Beomgyu sniffs, hiding his face against Yeonjun’s shoulder, “I’m going to cry again. Maybe you should keep holding your feelings in. It’s not good for my heart to hear you say all of that. I’m embarrassed.”

Yeonjun laughs like a child at his words, wholeheartedly endeared. Beomgyu lifts his head at the sound, and Yeonjun settles at the sight of him. His nose is still red, his eyes are puffy, the whole of him looks tender, and still—he’s the most beautiful thing Yeonjun’s ever seen. “Can I kiss you?”

“No,” Beomgyu says, immediately covering his face, “I look ugly right now.”

“Are you fishing for compliments right now?” Yeonjun raises a brow, “I know that you know that you’re absolutely gorgeous.”

“But I was crying just now,” Beomgyu reasons, peeking between the spaces of his fingers, “I can’t believe you saw me ugly. You should only see my good side, Hyung.”

Yeonjun helplessly sighs, slowly unfurling Beomgyu’s hands from his face, uncovers him like a rose, petal by petal, and says, “But what can I do? I want every part of you.”

And then he kisses Beomgyu’s red mouth tender until he completely understands just how much Yeonjun wants.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

It’s in the morning after that it hits him.

Maybe it’s the way he wakes up—sleep-drenched and kiss-drunk and to Beomgyu’s beautiful face. Maybe it’s the emotional night they just had. Maybe it’s just the natural culmination of every day and every night they’ve spent together since their wedding, but he wakes up today and just knows.

He rains kisses on Beomgyu’s face, from his forehead to his temples to his nose to his cheeks until he reaches the endless road to his mouth.

Beomgyu wakes up giggling, his hand pushing Yeonjun’s face away, “Let me sleep, please, please, please. You can’t expect me to sleep late and wake up early to entertain you.”

Yeonjun pretends to think about it and then says, “I’ll consider it if you give me a kiss.”

“Demanding,” Beomgyu comments with a shake of his head. Yeonjun only puckers his lips as a response. Beomgyu groans, holds him by the chin and gives him a kiss. “There. Happy?”

“Sooooo happy,” Yeonjun dives in for more kisses, until he can’t kiss Beomgyu anymore because they’re both too busy laughing.

When he settles down and Beomgyu’s still mid-beam, he feels it so strongly in his chest. Without thinking, he says, “Beomgyu, I think I’m in love with you.”

“You, uh, what?” Beomgyu sputters with wide eyes.

“No, not I think,” Yeonjun pushes forward, grabbing both of Beomgyu’s hands and holding them to his chest, “Beomgyu, I’m in love with you.”

Beomgyu breathes, looking at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, “Hyung, I—”

And Yeonjun waits and waits with bated breath until he realizes that Beomgyu might not feel the same just yet.

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same,” Yeonjun reassures him, but he winces when he realizes that disappointment has seeped in his voice.

“Yeonjun-hyung,” Beomgyu says, looking at him with the biggest puppy dog eyes, before burying his head into Yeonjun’s chest.

Yeonjun sighs, threading his hand down the back of Beomgyu’s head. “It really is okay. I’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable. I wasn’t thinking and I just said what I felt because I woke up and just knew.”

Beomgyu peeks up at him with a frown, “Don’t apologize for being in love with me. I...I like you a lot and I care for you a lot and I adore you a lot. And I wasn’t uncomfortable, I was just surprised. I just thought that if we were to ever get there, I would get there first. I didn’t expect you…”

“You didn’t expect that I’d be there already?” Yeonjun asks. “I’m glad I can surprise you too. But is it really surprising? Who wouldn’t fall for you?”

“Stop it…” Beomgyu says, embarrassed to the point where he’s hiding his face again.

Yeonjun laughs, not letting him hide. “You’ve been so shy lately. Last night too. Where’s my husband and his hubris so high it could reach Olympus?”

“What happened to my husband? I miss him. Where did you hide him? He was so cute and earnest,” Beomgyu laments. He frowns at him, “You’re so lucky I like you so much, you bastard, it drives me crazy sometimes…”

Yeonjun closes his eyes, pretending to savor his words, “I like you so much, you bastard, that sounds almost as sweet as I love you.”

Beomgyu smacks him, “Shut up! Stop embarrassing me—”

Yeonjun laughs, managing to catch Beomgyu’s wrist before his hand could get another swipe in, “Stop hitting me. I’m literally in love with you. Baby, I love you—”

The reminder stuns Beomgyu to silence, whole face blossoming as red as the tomatoes he hates. Yeonjun softens, “Let me be sincere, even if it’s embarrassing for both of us. I love you and it really is okay if it takes you a while to catch up. Let me lead in our relationship for once, okay?”

Beomgyu nods, “I’m almost there anyway. Just wait for me.”

“Oh yeah?” Yeonjun bites his lip. “How close is almost there?”

“Hyung!” Beomgyu admonishes, “I thought you said it’s fine if it takes me a while.”

“It is!” Yeonjun says, “I just want to know how far you are from my heart. And also if I can do anything to help you get there faster.”

Beomgyu presses himself against Yeonjun, curls his leg around Yeonjun’s hip, face close, mouths a breath apart, “I’m this close. Just love me as you are. And I’ll get there soon enough.”

“Okay,” Yeonjun says, against Beomgyu’s lips, “I can do that.”

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

Eventually, their honeymoon ends and they're due for their flight back home.

Beomgyu's lying in their bed while Yeonjun tries to finish packing his clothes.

"I don't want to go home," Beomgyu says, voice coming out muffled from having his face squished into his pillow.

"Me neither," Yeonjun says, steadily folding his clothes, "But we have to. We've already extended a couple days. Time to face reality again, babe."

Beomgyu rolls dramatically to the edge of the bed, where he easily pokes Yeonjun's back with his foot, "It's like you're excited to go back home."

Yeonjun rolls his eyes, turning to him, "I literally just said I don't want to go back either."

Beomgyu continues, all forlorn like he didn't hear a single thing that Yeonjun has said, "Going back to being my husband's side hoe. He's coming home to his real first love, his work."

"You're ridiculous," Yeonjun laughs. "Remember when I came home expecting cuddles, but you decided to put your work first instead of me."

"Yes, that's because you're also my side hoe," Beomgyu lies on his side, propping up his head with his hand. He looks at Yeonjun, like he's appraising a painting, and says, "My pretty, pretty side hoe. You should let me paint you some time. I swear you could have been a model in another life."

Yeonjun flushes at the compliment, feeling pink and pleased, "You think so?"

Beomgyu covers his face, "You're so fucking cute when you get shy." Beomgyu demands, "Come here. Come here right now and kiss the love of your life."

Yeonjun wishes they were still at that part of their relationship (which was a couple nights ago) where Beomgyu would get embarrassed at hearing I love you. Here they are now, with Beomgyu unable to go a single moment without bringing it up. The audacity of this man.

"Just for that, I'm going to continue packing," Yeonjun turns back to his clothes. He's almost done with it anyway.

"Babe!" Beomgyu whines, but Yeonjun doesn't budge, "You come here. This is really cutting into our cuddle time. We could both be done at the same time, but then I'm going to be done while you're going to have to still pack your stuff. Which really isn't ideal."

Beomgyu stays silent for a moment, considering his words, before he says, "Fine. You make a great point."

He finally gets out of bed and grabs the suitcase he's been storing in the other room and then carries all his clothes into their current room as well. "Still can't believe you got two rooms. What a waste of money," Beomgyu says, shaking his head as he opens his suitcase up.

"You are not bringing this up again," Yeonjun knows he will never live this down. He's sure he'll hear about this from his friends too, because Beomgyu has decided Soobin is his new best friend and doesn't know how to keep a secret. "I was just giving you options."

Beomgyu hums, "Uhuh...we were already sleeping together in the same bed every night. Why would I suddenly choose to sleep in a different bed with you on our honeymoon?" At Yeonjun's non-response, Beomgyu sighs, "What am I gonna do with you, Choi Yeonjun? Are we gonna go back home and sleep in separate beds too?"

"You're so terrible," Yeonjun says, throwing a dirty sock at Beomgyu's face. "As if you can sleep without me."

Beomgyu narrowly dodges the sock and huffs, "It's not my fault you're so warm." He throws the sock back at Yeonjun, who doesn't dodge on time. Sometimes, the world wants to see you suffer.

Beomgyu clears his throat, "By the way...I was thinking about how we should talk about our separate rooms back home. It's kind of odd to be talking about this, you know..considering we're married and all..."

"It's okay, this isn't really a conventional relationship." Yeonjun reaches for Beomgyu's hand and holds it. "I do want us to share the same room. I can move my stuff around in my room, you can redecorate to however you want it—"

Beomgyu gasps audibly, "Why not move to my room?"

"Well," Yeonjun starts, "because my bed is bigger, and my room is bigger."

Beomgyu raises a brow, "Then why do we always sleep in my room?"

"Because we always end up there," Yeonjun shrugs, "Because you always pull me in and I can't say no to you. Because I really like the vibes of your room. Take your pick."

"Then why are we moving to your room?" Beomgyu crosses his arms over his chest.

"So we can combine our stuff in one place and have enough space for it," Yeonjun explains, "Come on, wouldn't it be nicer to have a bigger bed?"

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, "My bed is barely smaller than yours. But...fine. I'll move in with you."

"Yay," Yeonjun leans over and smooches his cheek. "Thank you, Beomgyu. Love you."

Whatever frown Beomgyu wears disappears, smoothed over by simple words. Looking at Beomgyu's small but unmissable smile, Yeonjun thinks he should take back his previous statement. There's nothing to miss about an embarrassed Beomgyu hearing I love you. Not when there's this happy Beomgyu hearing it. Not when there's a pleased Beomgyu who knows he's married to someone who loves him.

Not when there's a Beomgyu ready to say I love you for Yeonjun to look forward to.

ʕ´• ᴥ •`ʔ ♥ (=^･^=)

They go home.

Their honeymoon begins to feel like a distant dream, but it’s alright. Life comes together so beautifully after that.

His days begin to blur into each other like this, hues of work and home all blending into contentment, until one day those days turn into months, and he realizes he’s happy.

And there’s so many reasons for it:

There’s going home to a warm meal, a beautiful home, and a husband whom he loves.

There’s the weekends, where they take trips to far out places just because they can.

There’s dinners, group dates, outings, and even weddings with their friends.

There’s new traditions, like decorating their apartment in red and green and hanging up a tree for Christmas. It includes suffering through insufferable dinners together with his family, and being overwhelmed at the welcome he receives at Beomgyu’s. It includes exchanging gifts and realizing how well you’ve come to know each other, how far you’ve come.

There’s New Year’s too, when their friends somehow convince them to throw a party.

This, Yeonjun hopes, doesn’t become a tradition. It’s fun but loud and involves more people at their home than expected.

In the middle of decadent cakes and champagne, of fireworks and New Year’s Eve countdowns, there’s Beomgyu wrapping his arms around his waist, whispering into his ear: people say you’ll spend the rest of the year with the person you kiss when the clock strikes twelve, and then proceeding to kiss him stupid.

This, he hopes, becomes a tradition.

There’s birthdays too, and the first birthday they celebrate together is Beomgyu’s.

They throw a little dinner party for that too, at some beautiful rooftop in Seoul, with the city glimmering around them.

It’s unfortunate that there were no stars visible in the sky, but Beomgyu, surrounded by family and friends, more than makes up for it.

They get home, half-stumbling, tipsy on champagne and happiness.

“Baby,” Yeonjun says as he tries to input their house code while trying to support Beomgyu’s weight, “You’re not only getting older but heavier.”

“Stop reminding me I’m old. I’m still young and sexy,” Beomgyu complains. “Besides, you’re the one that’s almost thirty.”

Yeonjun laughs, “Hey, this isn’t about me. This is about you. And the fact that you’re twenty-seven. That’s real late twenties. Remember when you were comforting me on the fact that there’s beauty in all ages?”

“Okay, I know what I said,” Beomgyu stands upright, looking so seriously sober Yeonjun wonders if this mini existential crisis absorbed all the alcohol in his body. “But I really can’t pretend to not be a real adult anymore, you know?”

“Hate to break it to you, babe,” Yeonjun pushes their door open and in they go, “But you’re not only twenty-seven, you also have a career and you’re married. I think you’ve been a real adult for the past couple of years. Just because you play video games until three in the morning while I’m asleep doesn’t change that.”

Beomgyu stares at him, “How do you know I do that? I make sure to put a pillow in your arms, so you wouldn’t notice.”

Yeonjun stares right back, unimpressed, “You think a pillow could replace you?”

Beomgyu suddenly looks very, very pleased with that statement, “You’re unreal. Stop flirting with me.”

“You always say that when you want me to continue,” Yeonjun rolls his eyes, “I know you so well.”

Beomgyu sighs, the sound of it sweet. “Yeah, you do.”

And then after a beat:

“You know what,” Beomgyu says, like he just thought of it randomly as they’re taking off their shoes and putting their house slippers on, “I love being married to you.”

It’s not an “I love you” by any means, but god, does it feel like one.

The words unmoor him, has him steadying himself against the wall, his socked feet halfway in his slippers. When he manages to find his voice, it comes out thick with emotion, “You mean that?”

Upon hearing his voice, Beomgyu turns to look at him, frowning when he meets Yeonjun’s eyes, “Of course I do. Listen, we’re still at the beginning and the road ahead is long, but I love that it’s you I’m doing this with. Didn’t I tell you that I chose well?”

“Mhmm,” Yeonjun nods, his hand coming up to hide his face. “You did,” He says, wetly.

“Are you crying?” Beomgyu says, voice coming down to a whisper, the way adults usually do with crying children.

Yeonjun hates feeling like a child, hates being treated like one even more, but he finds that he doesn’t take offense at the way Beomgyu is talking softly like this.

Maybe it’s the way this hurt he’s soothing is as old as a small child. Maybe it’s the way his words pierce through time, straight through to the child Yeonjun once was, the one that wanted to be loved just the way he was.

Either way, there’s a weight lifted off his chest—unbearably heavy but unnoticed until it was gone. How long did he bear it?

Yeonjun rubs his nose, sniffling as he does, “It’s nothing. I’m just really happy you said that.”

Beomgyu wraps him in his arms, lets Yeonjun bury his face against his shoulder, softly rubbing his back as he says, “I got lucky with you. I don’t know how I managed to pick someone with a heart so big and rare. Someone who’s also talented and driven and smart. I don’t know.”

Yeonjun feels the same. He got lucky and he doesn’t know why.

But maybe it’s not about deserving. Maybe that part doesn’t even matter at all.

All he knows is he’s never letting go.

Notes:

a couple words (a lot of words, actually):
lately, as i grow older and shed the label of a child/teenager, i've been thinking a lot about what it means to lose my youth. i was a big BTS fan, so youth has always been described to me as...the most beautiful moment in life, which i've always thought meant that it would be the happiest too. i had a lot of preconceived notions too, of dreams, all of which i thought needed to be achieved by the tender age of twenty-five. and with the recent state of our world and my recent experiences in life, i really don't think any of that is true. because like, what if you chose the wrong major in university? what if you lived your whole childhood doing what everybody wanted you to do? what if you had to hide yourself? and i found it so sad that if any of that happened to you, and you found yourself an adult, you'd feel sad or ruined...because you never had that happy youth. i don't think life is an upwards line. i don't think you peak at a certain age. you're never too old to find happiness and do the things that you've always wanted to do. and realizing that, i wanted to write this story to comfort the old me who used to think that.
regarding the genre, i wanted to do my own take on it too! people often do a more dramatic, enemies-to-lovers, tense-filled version of this trope, which i'm all for and enjoy!! but i thought, in the real world, right, people have definitely had arranged marriages and they've worked out. i wanted to see what it looked like, just with two strangers, bringing their own set of histories, getting to know each other and falling in love. i actually hesitated to call this chaebol au, because the chaebol part...is barely the point. it's about the relationship, really. i also think we should eat the rich.
the title "commas of care" taken from john berger's work from A to X: A Story in Letters and it refers to the little things we do for each other, that are often left unsaid. i like to think of it the word commas as little punctuations that mark our long life, giving us a little pause and reminding us that we are cared for.
finally, thank you, thank you for reading what i've shared with you all. i would love to hear your thoughts on the work, if anything - a line, a scene, an emotion - evoked something in you. please leave a comment, kudos, good vibes if you are compelled to. if you wish to contact me further, here are my socials.

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