‘baby? what’re you doing up so late, hm?’ keonho’s voice lowers an octave, tender as you appear in his line of sight, a kiss dropped onto your temple. he makes his way to the corner of the room, dropping his bag on the floor unceremoniously before easing himself onto the bed, face buried in the covers.

you glance up from your papers, eyes crinkling, ‘didn’t hear you come in, keon. missed you today.’ a lazy smile stretches across your lips, beautiful even in the presence of exhaustion.

keonho only smiles in response, tracking your figure as you spin back around to face the desk. oh, and your stupid math papers he just can’t seem to detach you from for the past week.

he’s tired, sleep making suggestions he’s desperately trying to fend off, in favour of maybe even another minute of your attention. but your headphones are back on, pen scratching against paper, so keonho forces his eyelids open, forces his body towards you.

he plucks an earbud out your ear, only receiving a half-hearted ‘hm?’ as you continue whatever form of maths you were deciding to take on tonight. honestly, he’s a little amazed at your dedication to whatever’s going on, baffled at the sheer ratio of letters to numbers. he was never good at the subject anyways.

‘bro. what d’you want.’ your voice cuts through his slightly miffed thoughts, hazy in his fatigue.

‘want you.’ you huff out a laugh at that, cheek leaning into his palm as he grazes the skin. keonho moves his hand into your hair, combing through it slowly, reverently.

‘please come to bed? m’tired.’

‘yeah, ok. just after i finish this sheet, ok baby?’ your response sounds more like a compromise than an answer, keonho thinks, and he grumbles as you take back the earbud sitting idly in his palm. any other night he would’ve argued, thrown a minuscule tantrum complete with begging if needed. but he knows the exam you’re studying for is important, a midterm you can’t afford to fail. so his legs carry him back to bed, grumbling the few steps there.

keonho is slightly (very) peeved at the fact equations seem to be taking his place tonight, and he’s tired. tired, and clingy, and in need of you. the next few minutes are spent in agony only he can feel, mourning the loss of your late night embrace as you focus on maths.

when the clock hits a resounding twelve am, keonho’s had enough. he drags himself up from the indent he’s made in the bed, ambling towards the desk.

you feel him behind you, feel his hands roam the expanse of your shoulder blades before they settle at your waist, chin hooking over your shoulder. by now, you’ve already taken out both earbuds, grin making its way to your face.

‘hi baby.’ your words are like a salve, soothing over his half-moon eyes as they close.

‘hi. can you come to bed now? pretty please with lots of cherries on top?’

‘and whipped cream?’

‘and whipped cream.’

‘and sprinkles?’

‘and sprinkles.’

the smile on your face is full now; you bask in the air of keonho’s presence. a beat passes, and he slowly cracks an eye open, the sight of you involuntarily burning the fire in his chest a little brighter.

‘you can have every topping ever.’ the sentence is whispered near your ear, silent, low, just for you. warmth spreads into your heart, surpassing the sternum as you take in his words.

‘yeah?’

‘yeah. only if you come to bed though.’

you giggle at that, and he does too, peppering kisses onto your face before landing on your lips last. it’s careful, keonho always is when it comes to you. soft as the feelings of today are translated through the action, comforting as his right hand moves to cup the side of your neck, left thumb brushing against your (his) top.

you pause the kiss to murmur something against his lips, ‘wanna sleep now.’

keonho registers the words faster than you expect, teeth all on display as he finally makes his way back to bed with you in his arms.

he’s a little more awake now, the after effects of your attention, flushed pink from your affection. it quiets down again, the only sound a late night train as it passes through the neighbourhood.

after you make yourself comfortable in bed, he wraps a lazy arm around you, the weight of it soothing as he cards through your hair.

‘that was a lot of effort just for you to take me away from studying.’

‘worth it,’ he hushes, eyes easing closed at last.

the morning is coming soon, but for now, keonho rests with the fact that you’re in his arms, warm and real.

‘baby, i need you to notice me

see your name on my phone ‘fore i go to sleep’

you’re two rows in front, and he’s purposefully seated on an angle so he can watch the flick of your wrist as you take notes. his brow furrows alongside yours, relaxes when yours does.

‘stop staring. it’s creepy as hell.’ keonho is in his ear, and seonghyeon let’s out a sigh so deep he can feel it empty out his chest.

‘shut up, keonho. aren’t you failing this class?’ he retaliates, but not before the blush creeps up his neck at an alarmingly quick pace. the boy next to him only huffs out a laugh before facing the front. you turn around at the sound of it, smiling at seonghyeon, who chokes on his saliva in an attempt to return the gesture.

‘smooth man. real smooth.’ keonho laughs even harder next to him.

‘shut up.’

the bell rings just as he recovers in time to watch you walk out the doors.

you can feel his eyes track you down, feel his presence only a few steps away. there’s that question on the tip of your tongue you want to ask, the one about balancing chemical equations, but it fades as seonghyeon falls into step beside you.

‘maths? i’ll walk you, yeah?’ you answer with a dip of your head, the one that makes seonghyeon’s heart clench with something. content with letting the drumming of rain continue its beat overhead, the both of you let silence blanket the space between your skin.

when you reach the entrance of the maths wing, seonghyeon clears his throat. it’s a little awkward, rings in the hallway louder than the rain does.

‘do you uh, do you want to do todays session at the cafe?’ his lips spread into a little smile at the end, hesitant, anticipating your answer like it’s all he’s ever wanted to know.

‘yeah, we can do the cafe. walk me there after school?’ your answer, better than anything he had concocted in his head while waiting, makes his heart jump, palms sweat in what would have been very unsexy if you had noticed him rub them against the side of his trousers.

‘of course.’ you walk off with a wave, and seonghyeon pats himself on the back (figuratively and literally; keonho would’ve laughed at him if he saw) for not stuttering through his sentence. or choking.

he waits for the school bell to ring all day, though it comes slow, and keonho shoots him that knowing smirk when he abruptly stands up at the end of his last class. the rain comes down harder, intent on making this moment a little more difficult. everyone’s staring, and it makes him turn around slowly to face mrs. han standing in front of the whiteboard, marker still in hand.

‘i um, i have somewhere to be soon?’ seonghyeon’s tone tails off in a question, and he’s ninety nine percent sure mrs. han takes pity on his current circumstance, given he’s provided with an exasperated nod as everyone packs up around him.

keonho snickers as seonghyeon wrestles himself out of the desk.

he can only muster a half assed ‘shut up’ before making his way to the entrance of the school, focused more on getting to you than becoming the other boy’s entertainment.

you’re already there, watching the rain flutter down drop by drop. there’s a worksheet in your hands, a little damp from the weather, wind tracing the strands of hair around your face. seonghyeon’s mouth dries a little when he finally faces you, a habit that he seems to have developed over the past few weeks.

‘oh hyeon, finally! i tried doing this question during my study period, and…’ blah blah blah. that’s the only vaguely coherent thought in seonghyeon’s head, because you’ve just called him hyeon, and his chest cannot take the amount of adoration his heart is pumping out right now.

‘so i tried to move the two to balance chlorine but-’

‘did you just call me hyeon?’

you stop your rant on mr. choi’s inability to teach chemistry properly in favour of looking seonghyeon in the eyes. he’s taller than you remember, head tilting so you can get a good look at him. it makes his fingers tighten unconsciously around the strap of his bag, slung across his shoulder carelessly while anticipating your reply.

‘yeah, i guess i did. is that okay, hyeon?’

more than okay, he thinks. way more than okay.

but he only stutters through a broken ‘yeah, totally’ before you launch back into chlorine and reaction arrows. the both of you are still under cover, and the downpour makes you frown a little, pout painting your lips.

‘forgot an umbrella today, hyeon. might just have to do this session in the library,’

but best believe seongyeon’s already planned today’s session for the cafe, and no amount of water will ever be able to trickle through eom seonghyeon’s determination to get you in that cafe warm and dry.

‘c’mere for a sec,’ his voice comes out a little softer, a little lower, notes in his scale reserved only for you. it makes your words forget a beat, instead following his.

‘i’ve got one. we can share, yeah?’

‘yeah,’

your tone softens alongside his, rain pattering softly against the synthetic fabric above your heads. seonghyeon is aware, too aware, of how close you are to him. your arm loops through his unconsciously while you make your way out of the gates, and he realises he would rather you seep all his warmth than have himself stay warm, considering you are the source of the heat blooming at the tips of his fingers.

your words die down as you make your way to the cafe. conversation with seonghyeon never truly was needed, and you enjoyed his silence. the rain splashes occasionally against your legs, and he smiles when he sees you do the same.

the cafe, hidden in a little lane off the main street, serves as your saving grace just as the wind picks up.

seonghyeon opens the door, letting you in first before finding somewhere to place his umbrella. it’s routine now, you think, as he makes his way to the table in the corner. he watches you with a careful eye as you pick up one menu for the two of you to share.

it makes seonghyeon’s head a little woozy, knowing you share one menu between the two of you. the intimacy of it makes his heart ache a little behind his sternum, bruised from its thumping against the bone.

‘wanna try something different today. what d’you think?’ your voice, quieter in the placid environment, rings out as you reach the corner.

your things are already meticulously placed around the table; seonghyeon’s been tutoring you long enough to know where you like your papers. he thinks, stupidly maybe, that there is nothing on this earth he wouldn’t try as long as it was you coaxing him. pathetic, yet he still glows from the pride of the thought.

he watches your fingers trace each row of letters, watches your mouth as you familiarise yourself with their sound. it throws him off a little, how even your silent articulation is beautiful.

‘maybe the vanilla latte? warm, ‘cause it’s cold outside and you always catch a cold drinking iced coffee during winter, seonghyeon.’ you muse at your observation, and the said boy only hums in response, knowing full well the decision is yours at the end of the day.

and he’s definitely okay with that.

when you finally make your decision (mocha, with an extra shot, and two cookies - chocolate chip for you and peanut butter for him), seonghyeon stands up, guides himself around your chair before heading for the register.

you don’t even pretend to complain, he’s been paying since you asked for help on mr. choi’s class work, and there really wasn’t enough fight in you for something he seemed, frankly, quite happy to do.

when seonghyeon comes back, balancing your order, he slides down into his seat before placing the coffee in front of you.

‘it’s nice, hyeon, this one. we should get it more often.’

‘hm? it’s nice?’

he’s organising practice questions as you hold the mug up to his lips, and he watches your expression over the rim as you concentrate on avoiding spillage. the chocolate flavour coats his tongue, sweet, but it might as well have been nothing compared to the swipe of your thumb against the corner of his lips. the shuffle of papers in his hand stops momentarily, but you’re oblivious to the way his entire body has stilled.

it makes his heart clench, because how can you not see, or hear, hell even feel the sheer fervour radiating off him right now?

how can you not make sense of his devotion to you?

you’re sitting right next to him, and the heat from his affection can’t be felt by you? you, who hasn’t allowed a single thought in his mind to drift from your hair, your smile, your sound, in weeks, maybe even months.

no, all you can feel is the impending disappointment from your parents if you fail another chemistry exam. it drives seonghyeon to the brink of madness, that you’re completing worksheets while he tries to push down the most emotion he’s felt since brent faiyaz came out with that new album.

’hyeon.’

‘yeah?’ he manages to croak out the word amidst his existential crisis.

‘do you know the equation for the combustion of methane?’ you’re still focused on the stupid paper, the one seonghyeon had painstakingly finished last night in order to have answers for you today.

you’re not watching him, no. he’s frozen, watching the furrow of your brow scrunch as you search for the answer. he knows it’s in the folder mr. choi told everyone to revise, and he also knows you haven’t revised.

‘it’s in the folder.’ the cookies are going cold, and seonghyeon thinks his heart will too if you don’t look at him sooner or later.

‘where’d you-’ his eyes meet yours as you turn to face him, words dying down your throat in light of his expression.

you’re suddenly hyper aware of the way his knee is pressing against your own, visible even in the ambient lighting of the cafe. he’s staring with an expression you’ve never seen before, teetering between desperate and hypnotised.

your motions still, and seonghyeon edges the slightest centimetre closer to you.

‘mhm? where’d i what?’

he’s a little scared, but since the most confident he’s been since this moment was at the skate park last year (which resulted in a broken finger), he can’t back down now.

‘hyeon?’ your voice is hushed now, name structured only for him to hear, familiar in your shared space.

he straightens up a little from where he’s slouched against the chair.

‘yeah?’

‘wanna know the equation for the combustion of methane, please.’

seonghyeon sure doesn’t know that off by heart, but something’s combusting inside him and it’s not methane.

‘sweetheart, are you blind? or deaf? or an oblivious psychopath.’

‘excuse me?’ you blink, alarmed at the suddenness of his seemingly serious questions. ‘none of the above?’

‘then why can’t you see, or hear, or even feel what i feel for you?’

that makes you pause, because eom seonghyeon has just confessed his love to you in the middle of a cafe after school. the rain hits the window pane behind you, soft and steady, filling the silence left by his admission.

he doesn’t look scared, and he doesn’t feel scared which might just mean he’s past the point of caring if you reciprocate his feelings, instead preferring that you at least know how he feels for you. but then the silence catches up to his courage, and reality anchors him to the situation at hand.

‘wait, no, i’m not calling you stupid, or, well, i’m also not forcing you to say anything, or that you reciprocate my feelings but-’

‘hyeon.’ he pauses at that, panic clear on his face as he snowballs into his attempts at damage control.

‘i like you too, seonghyeon.’

that makes him really pause, and you watch as realisation crosses his face, disbelief in his eyes.

‘really?’

‘really.’

silence falls over your table, and you take another sip of the now lukewarm mocha while analysing what could be seonghyeon’s internal monologue.

he’s rooted in a state of amazement, maybe, so you turn back to study as he processes, smile teasing your lips. it takes him a moment to turn and face his work, which he (realising way too late) was supposed to teach to you.

when his side is pressed against yours again, you fall against the crook of his neck, breathing brushing against his exposed collarbone. his peanut butter cookie is untouched, and you take a bite before setting it down.

‘you okay, hyeon? i still need help on chem, y’know,’

‘yeah. yep. yes. just processing the fact that i actually bagged that.’

‘bagged what? you haven’t asked me anything yet, baby.’

baby? baby? seonghyeon might as well be methane with how he’s about to combust.

‘can you and me become a we?’ you lift your head off his shoulder at his question, eyes intently watching his.

‘of course we can, hyeon.’ your voice softens again, muffled as you find your way back to his shoulder, and his arm finds its way around you.

‘was scared you’d say no,’ he mumbles through his cookie as you brush away stray crumbs from his cheek.

‘nope. we’re a we now.’

seongyeon smiles at the thought. we.

‘there’s no more you or me,

me or we, sweetheart’

‘what’re you doing.’ your mumbling snaps him out of his revere, raspy and soft, a touch of annoyance that tails your sentences whenever you think he’s being unreasonable.

‘you’re so pretty,’ keonho smiles, propping up an arm only to collapse back into the crook of your neck. ‘have i ever told you that?’ he asks, breathing evening out against your collarbone.

you huff out a giggle as his arm snakes around your waist, warm and heavy. silence washes over the both of you, settling as the sun rises behind the blinds. his warmth is addictive in the sting of cold, hands soothing as they absentmindedly rub circles into your side.

‘dreamt ‘bout you last night,’ he says after a while.

‘yeah? was i super duper gorgeous?’ you ask into his hair, easy smile spreading over your lips.

‘always are.’

you smile wider at that, and keonho does too, holding you tighter to him. he thinks there is nothing he’d rather dream of, rather think of, than you. you, who occupies every nook and cranny of his whole being, every thought from nightfall to sunrise, even during his slumber.

he can hear mrs. kim outside, opening and closing her door, undoubtedly on the way to her morning stroll around the apartment block. it’s his cue to remove himself from your warmth and begin the day, and you know it too.

‘get up, keonho. gotta get ready.’ you’re already shifting in his arms, stretching away leftover fatigue from your muscles. his grip only tightens around your waist, hands splaying across your skin.

‘no baby, please? five more minutes?’ he attempts to negotiate for more of you, and a voice at the back of his head calls himself greedy for wanting more when you’ve already carved a permanent spot in his thoughts. he hears you sigh, and immediately pouts, jutting out his bottom lip, brows furrowing as you slowly blink at him.

‘you’re so annoying bro.’

but he can hear through whatever nonchalant facade you’ve decided to construct, and celebrates his small victory.

‘still love me though,’ and you can’t help but feel the glow of his comment in your chest.

‘i guess.’

the air stills again, resting around tangled limbs and slow breaths. quietude is broken by car engines that start running outside the window, and keonho lets you leave his arms (albeit with another pout).

‘i do really love you y’know.’ he pauses for a second, half-open eyes tracing your figure as you roll up the blinds. ‘you’re all i ever really think about.’

the admission only makes you turn around and drop back by his side, burying your face into the mess of hair atop his head.

you place a kiss on his cheek, hover your lips near his.

‘you can’t sweet talk me back to bed, idiot.’

‘oh come on!’ yet he still finds himself following the soft pads of your feet as you make your way to the kitchen, gripping onto the ends of his shirt currently donning your body.

keonho knows you’ll both be back under the covers in another twenty minutes, anyway.

‘when your lips and fingernails are all mine

i promise to take my time giving you devotion’