#nightdiary.writes

the second and third stages took the longest, but that’s when the disappointment came in. after a few days of texting, the inevitable message about meeting in person would come. if the guy seemed normal enough, you’d agree, and finally meet. you’d build up the moment in your head and pick out a cute outfit and dance excitedly in your room beforehand, going through the possible conversation starters you could use if it got awkward.

you’d sit through a date with them and wait to be asked questions, wait for them to express some sort of interest in you as a person, but it would never come. instead, you would sit and listen to them harp about themselves for hours. every time, without fail, it was almost as if they didn’t care enough that you were there.

then, they’d presumptuously ask if you wanted to come home with them and, well, your decision couldn’t be clearer.

as much as you hated generalizing, the men from your tinder dates were proving to be pretty shit. they looked good on paper, but when it came down to dating you, they fucking sucked. and you were beginning to lose hope.

you’d sworn that you would take on one last date before deleting the forsaken app. lee heeseung is everything you’re looking for in a man, and you think it’s a wonder he matched with you instantly. the texts you exchange pass your perception of normal, and before you know it, he’s proposing you meet up at a japanese restaurant downtown.

you find yourself sitting across from a man you think god sent as an apology for all of the other 4 billion and some men.

“you are suspiciously perfect,” you frown, squinting at your date across the table. “like it’s weirding me out. what is wrong with you, lee heeseung?”

“quite a lot actually,” he jokes, “but my mom says i’m a good boy. i’d trust her, if i were you.”

snorting, you reach to snatch the last dumpling with your chopsticks. heeseung’s grab the dumpling before yours do, but he’s quick to place it onto your plate and tell you he’ll order more. as he politely calls the waitress over and thanks her when she brings over a new plate of dumplings, you can’t help but think you’re fucked. either your standards are low, or heeseung is just one remarkable man.

but as the afternoon progresses, you begin to lean towards the latter. heeseung takes a genuine interest in your hobbies and work, asking you thought-provoking and personal questions that don’t toe the line of being intrusive and passive-aggressive. you realize that this is the first date you’ve been on where you’ve talked so much, and it feels so weird to not spend the entirety of your date looking forward to going home.

“i think i’ve found out what’s wrong with you,” you tell him once both of you are standing outside of the restaurant. heeseung had paid for the bill no questions asked, and when you’d gotten up to shrug your coat on, you realized with a start that the sky outside was pitch black.

as heeseung hums unassumingly and fixes you with a questioning look, you grin and say, “you hate mint chocolate. you’re a walking red flag, lee heeseung.”

your date bursts out into laughter and shakes his head. the wide smile stays on his face as he offers his arm to you, bringing you close to his side when you take it. “fine, you’ve got me there. can i at least walk you to your bus stop before you block me?”

you pretend to think about it, tapping your chin with your forefinger, before sighing and agreeing with a matching smile. your walk to the stop takes you through a busy central street that’s alive in the early evening, and you can’t help but press yourself closer to heeseung. he steers the two of you through the crowds with relative ease, and you somehow manage not to bump into anyone for the entirety of the walk, all thanks to him.

as you sit on the bench together and wait for your bus to show up, you use the cold as an excuse to huddle up to heeseung’s side. he laughs again, a lilting noise that tugs at your heartstrings, and you quickly realize you’ve gotten yourself in far too deep from the first date.

you have to move off his shoulder when he begins taking his jacket off. confused, you watch as he drapes the material over your back and urges you to slip your arms in through the sleeves so he can zip it up. you notice your bus rolling up to the curb and panic, turning to heeseung with a frown.

“don’t worry about it,” he reassures you. kissing your cheek sweetly, he helps you get up and walks you toward the bus door. “you have to walk home from the bus, i don’t want you getting cold. just give it to me on our next date, yeah?”

stunned, you nod shyly and step into the bus. as you scan your card and take a seat next to the window, you peer outside and grin when you find heeseung waiting to wave goodbye. he’s a bit blurry because the glass has fogged up from the heat, but you can make out the way his face softens when you trace a heart into the window.

with the promise of a second date and heeseung’s cozy coat on your shoulders, you begin making your way home, feeling oddly warm and thrilled beyond belief.

maybe tinder had finally worked out in your favor. you’d make sure to leave a 5 star review when you got home.

✧ jay - rollerskating rink

for what it’s worth, you weren’t the one that chose the location for your first date.

you’d left the decision up to jay, who, in all of his dependable glory, seemed to have chosen the worst possible location– at least for him.

“jay?” you call to the panting boy behind you. “are you sure you’re okay? we can always go sit down for a bit and come back later.”

your date shakes his head adamantly and pushes himself forward using the railing, scrunching his eyes shut like he’s anticipating another fall. he looks awfully adorable in the hot pink skates that the rink had lent him, even if he’s faring worse than a newborn deer with them on. the juxtaposition of his carefully crafted and sophisticated outfit with the cartoonish design of the skates is oddly endearing to you.

“wow, i really thought this looked harder than it actually was,” jay pauses by the railing, leaning down to rub at his ankle with a pained expression. “these skates are beating my ass.”

“why’d you choose this place if you’ve never been rollerskating before?” you can’t help but ask.

“okay, don’t laugh,” jay warns, avoiding your curious eyes. his cheeks are all red as he continues to massage his ankle, and you doubt it’s entirely because he’s exhausted from skating. “your best friend told me you like to come here a lot, but that you never have someone to go with. figured i’d be that person for you, even if i suck a lot.”

the thought of jay willingly sacrificing his comfort and the wellbeing of his ankles for you makes you feel warm all over. you help him stand up and regain his balance without relying on the rail, leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek as encouragement. poor unsuspecting jay crumbles down immediately after, clutching onto the rail for support. you can’t help but laugh, though it isn’t unkind.

“just know i appreciate all of your sacrifices,” you tell him. offering your hand, you pull him up and continue to hold on to him as you lightly push backwards with your skates. “we can go slow, i’ll teach you some basic moves to get you moving around on your own.”

jay gulps but nods nonetheless, staggering forward after you. it’s relatively easy to keep him upright when you’re going at such a slow pace, his soft hands encased between the firm fingers of your own. you throw a look over your shoulder every now and then to make sure you don’t run into anyone, but the rink’s empty enough at this hour that you have enough space to move about freely with jay attached to you.

“bend your knees a little– yeah, that’s good, now glide forward one foot at a time, lean into your strides a bit,” you instruct, gaze focused on your date’s wobbly legs. the tight fitting jeans he’d worn are admittedly hot, but you feel a bit guilty thinking about jay’s thighs while he’s trying not to break the bones in them.

as soon as jay gets the basic motions down, you switch to skating side by side with him, your linked hands suspended between the two of you. he’s still slow and careful with his movements, but you can tell he’s fallen into a rhythm that works for him. you don’t mind having to inch your way across the rink with him. if anything, it’s nice having him by your side.

“i think this was just a big ploy to get me to hold your hand,” you tease.

jay flushes and, very tellingly, doesn’t say a word.

snickering, you begin to swing your hands between your bodies. jay’s hand is big and warm, and you don’t want to let go soon. “you should know i would’ve held your hand anyway. next time, let’s hold hands at a place that won’t break your tailbone.”

✧ jake - bowling

“you know what they say about men and bowling?” 

“no, jake,” you deadpan. you knew exactly where this was going, and yet you still decide to give jake the satisfaction. something about being a good date, even if jake has always been a friend you’d teased first and foremost. “what do they say?”

“they’re either good in bed or at bowling,” jake steps back from the lane and looks over his shoulder to wink at you. his arm swings back an exaggerated amount as he walks toward the foul line, sending the ball rolling onto the wood with zero coordination. it immediately goes towards the gutter. “these are mutually exclusive, scientifically proven.”

but in all of jake’s infinite luck, the ball veers towards the middle at the very last minute, hitting the front-most pin and knocking down the rest in succession. above you, the screen plays a cute animation of bowling pins running away from the ball, only to be smothered with a large neon text spelling out STRIKE! in bold letters.

“oh this is so bad for you,” you bite back the urge to laugh. jake’s mortified face turns towards you and you almost lose it at the sight of his heartbroken expression. “you’ve got another turn, by the way. let’s see if you can get a double, babe.”

jake’s next ball ends up in the gutter and he cheers loudly, earning him very confused looks from the kids in the lane next to you. one of them offers their dinosaur bowling ramp to help jake out, but he kindly turns them down and tells them he’s trying to let you win.

unfortunately for the both of you, you don’t hold up too great score-wise either. even with your one lucky spare and otherwise average abilities, jake ends up winning by 20 whole points, a feat he doesn’t seem too keen on celebrating. the light in your lane turns off after the round is over, and jake proposes you two get some well-deserved food.

“do you think this is a lame date?” he asks you once you’ve sat down at one of the plastic benches. you instantly frown at the question and reach out to spear a handful of fries with your fragile plastic fork.

“don’t worry, i think it’s sexy when men are good at sports,” you reassure him, “also it’s cute that you wanted to let me win. and that you bought me loaded fries with extra cheese. it’s super romantic.”

jake snorts, but you notice how his shoulders visibly relax at your words. navigating your friendship-turned-something-bigger was harder than you’d anticipated it would be, and acknowledging your reciprocated feelings was proving to be the easiest part.

you knew that jake was equally on edge about fucking this whole thing up. there was a lot more at stake here than with someone you hadn’t known for years prior. you were afraid of diving headfirst into something that could potentially rip away an important part of you, afraid that one wrong move would send jake tumbling out of your life. you had cherished him long before you had realized you loved him differently.

but as you watch jake chew through a forkful of fries, you realize that there’s nothing complicated about this. things have always been simple with him, and they’ll continue to be no matter if you’re dating or not.

“cmon, next round is on me,” you stand up and wipe the last of the cheese from your mouth. “if you can beat me again, i’ll consider letting you prove that silly bowling theory wrong to me.”

the speed at which jake gets up is dizzying. he’s at the counter paying before you can even catch up to him, sliding a few bills over to the employee and turning to you with a playful grin. “we’re at lane 7, babe. go get warmed up.”

✧ sunghoon - laser tag

your heart is racing so fast you can feel it in your head. clutching the plastic gun to your chest, you press yourself closer to the wall and still your breathing. the red light on your heavy vest has stopped blinking, meaning you’d recovered from the last hit, but you know you can’t risk running just yet.

the undeniable sound of footsteps creeping closer makes you inch toward the corner of the wall, where you know sunghoon is waiting for you. you bite your lip and tense your finger on the trigger, peering over the bricks that are obscuring your vision.

surely enough, even in the darkness of the laser tag arena, you can make out sunghoon’s determined face. he’s crouched down behind a beat-up car, wearily scanning the area. most likely looking for you, but you don’t want to give him the satisfaction just yet.

the blue on his vest has dimmed down– you’d hit him several times earlier and knew this was probably one of his last lives left. your own indicator showed that your lives were also running low, and based on how exhausted you felt, you knew you couldn’t have much time left from the round. you had to move in soon, or risk tying with sunghoon.

in your case, you thought that would be worse than losing.

taking a deep breath, you lift your gun and peer around the corner one more time, and in the split second it takes for sunghoon to notice you, you manage to send a shot straight at his vest. but the light on his vest doesn’t budge, and as you realize you had horribly misaimed, your date takes the opportunity to aim at you properly.

your vest makes a video game-like noise of defeat and you feel your gun power down. you know you have to hide for the next minute to let it recharge, but as you spin around and try to figure out where to run toward, you notice sunghoon already closing in.

“such a shame,” he drawls, holding up his gun with a smirk. you frown, backing up until you feel your shoulders hit a concrete wall. sunghoon’s voice is quiet enough not to draw attention from your teammates, but it sends shivers down your spine nonetheless. “thought you’d finally beat me this round. what happened, babe?”

“i still have one more life left, don’t get all cocky.” you mumble, shaking your gun frustratedly. the minute needed to pass by quicker.

looking over his shoulder, you realize with a frown that you’re in quite possibly the most secluded part of the arena. there’s no hope calling out for help or trying to make a run for it.

sunghoon squints down at your indicator and moves in even closer. you feel your breath quicken when the front of his vest hits yours, and you’re left caged in to stare up defiantly at him. he’s grinning at you like he’s already won.

“i’m not going to let you win,” you lean in toward him and whisper. sunghoon’s eyes flit toward your lips, and you try not to think about throwing your chances out the window and kissing him.

“you don’t have anywhere to run,” he places a hand next to your head on the wall, and to really drive the point home, you feel him press the muzzle of his gun against your side, where you know your sensor is. you’re pretty certain he can hear how fast your heart’s beating, and it makes you flush red from embarrassment. “you ready to admit defeat yet? or are you going to keep being stubborn?”

there’s no reason you should feel this lightheaded, but sunghoon’s so, so close to you that you can’t think properly. he’s practically pressed up against you, warm and solid and he’s barely a few centimeters away, and if you lean in just a bit more, you’ll be able to kiss him.

so that’s what you do.

“sure,” you say simply, and lean up to softly brush your lips against his. you grab at his neck with your free hand, bringing him flush against you so that you can fully slot your mouth with his. he’s surprised– you can tell from the way his gun clatters loudly to the floor next to you, and you try not to smile into the kiss.

seconds later, you distantly hear your gun make a familiar rebooting sound. you hold sunghoon firmly against you as you blindly aim your gun toward the sensor on his side, and with one last peck to the side of his mouth, you pull the trigger.

sunghoon’s vest goes dark. you don’t think he registers this, though, because he stares at you wide-eyed and adorably confused as you pull back from the kiss.

“i win,” you tease, and your date blinks down at his indicator.

“you win,” sunghoon affirms quietly. conveniently, the overhead lights turn on as the round draws to a close, and you can’t help but notice the way he’s reddened all over.

“victory kiss?”

✧ sunoo - picnic

ten minutes into your date with sunoo, you make the most devastating observation ever: sunoo has freckles.

they’re visible for only seconds at time, when the sun hits his face at just the right angle, but it still makes your breath catch in your throat every time you see them. they’re littered across his face like miniature stars, dipping across his cheeks in multitudes and scattering off toward his temples and brow bones.

your hands itch to reach out and trace them.

“–and then once we finally got to the place, it turned out to be super cute and they had some of the best lemonade i’ve ever had.” sunoo’s voice slowly trickles back into your ears, and you blink the world into focus once again.

you find your date looking at you with crinkled eyes, studying your features with amusement. almost like he knows exactly what’s been going through your mind.

“sorry,” you laugh sheepishly, reaching out to grab another chocolate-covered strawberry. sunoo had made them himself for the occasion, that much he’d eagerly disclosed within the first few minutes of the date, and you had found it too endearing for your poor heart. “i got distracted. what was this place called again?”

"auntie lim’s diner,” he answers slowly, smirking when you nod off-handedly. “hey, what’s on your mind?”

“lemonade,” you respond just a bit too quickly, face blanching when sunoo’s grin grows impossibly wider. whining and covering yourself with your hands, you try not to focus on the way his melodic laughter rings out like bells.

“lemonade, huh?” sunoo’s teasing is light-hearted, but that doesn’t stop your heart from leaping up into your throat. “was there some on my face? because you’ve been staring an awful lot for the past few minutes.”

groaning, you duck your head and try to focus on finishing your strawberry. you can feel the heat rise from your cheeks to your ears though, and are certain sunoo’s made note of this when he giggles and leans forward to get a better look at you.

“you’ve got freckles,” you mumble, picking at the leaves of the strawberry. when sunoo doesn’t respond for a while, you look up and bravely gesture toward his cheeks, pointing at where you’d seen the aforementioned spots with a shaky finger. “and like– it’s super cute. you’re super cute. but it caught me off-guard so, like. yeah. sorry for staring.”

sunoo hums. you can feel his eyes roving through your face, but you immediately look away once they finally meet yours. then, you feel something warm encasing your hand, and nearly jerk in surprise when your fingers come to brush against the soft skin of sunoo’s face moments later.

“don’t apologize,” he mumbles, leading your hand down the side of his cheek, where you’d pointed just seconds ago. “i’m really flattered you noticed. and you don’t have to be shy about stuff like this, i’d honestly be a bit worried if we were on a date and you didn’t find me attractive.”

reveling at the supple skin beneath your fingertips, you feel the weight ease off of your chest almost instantly. despite having known each other for a limited amount of time, sunoo’s come to be quick at recognizing when you feel out of place or uncomfortable, and he’s become too good at easing you back into safe waters. he’s too good to you.

“don’t get ahead of yourself,” you tease back instead, unable to handle the growing wave of emotions in you. “i only said your freckles were cute.”

sunoo looks up at you through his lashes, and your hand freezes where it’s fallen by his chin. flitting your eyes downwards, you watch his rosy lips part, almost like they want to voice your hidden intentions. gulping, you subconsciously feel yourself draw in closer, until you can feel his breath wash out against your cheeks like water on shore.

your heartbeat’s in your ears and sunoo’s pretty mouth is right there. glancing back up at his eyes, you notice that he’s also looking down at your lips, tracing the minuscule movement of your tongue peeking out to wet them.

he’s so close. you can almost just lean in a bit and–

“yeah? so then my second date invitation to auntie lim’s diner has been rejected?”

pausing, your eyes widen as you stare back at sunoo in bewilderment. he’s grinning at you slyly, the edges of his eyes crinkling with laughter as his whole body shakes with amusement. you can’t help the string of giggles that bubble out of you almost like second nature. it’s nice, you think, having someone like sunoo to laugh with.

“i mean, i guess i’ll have to try this lemonade you speak so highly of."

✧ jungwon - boba place

in retrospect, choosing a first date location for you and a total stranger was easier than you thought it would be. yang jungwon, as your best friend had briefly introduced him to you, seemed simple enough to enjoy normal things. you already had a place in mind before your friend showed you his photos, but you really couldn’t help it once you laid eyes on him.

“has anyone told you your eyes look like tapioca pearls?”

jungwon’s cat-like features curl in amusement and he pops his lips off of the boba straw. he chews through his last gulp, wiping at the droplet of milk tea that had trickled out onto his bottom lip. you follow the movement with your eyes, coughing when you absentmindedly swallow a pearl without chewing it fully.

“no, but should i take that as a compliment?” jungwon asks, passing you a napkin.

you take it and wipe at your own mouth, cheeks growing red out of embarrassment. “yeah. but now that i think about it, it does sound kind of weird. i don’t want to eat your eyes, i promise.”

jungwon laughs, mouth pulling into an endearingly wide grin. okay, your friend had definitely undersold him. jungwon was cute as fuck.

“why’d you choose a boba place, anyway?” he continues, fiddling with the cup in his hold. he’d finished his drink surprisingly fast, and you have half a mind to offer him some of your own. “not that i don’t like it. great choice, honestly. but why?”

you shrug. “the atmosphere is nice. and if you’re going to go on a date with someone you don’t know that much, might as well go somewhere you can talk. it would be pretty awkward to watch a movie with a stranger, don’t you think?”

jungwon nods seriously, hair bouncing along with his movements. “your friend was right about you being smart.”

“yeah?” now that you thought about it, you hadn’t considered how your best friend had sold you to jungwon. given that he’d agreed, you figured it must’ve been pretty alright. that, and the fact that it was your beloved best friend in question, you had no doubt you were probably oversold, if anything.

still, there was a nagging curiosity in your head that you couldn’t ignore. “what else was my friend right about?”

“that you’re easy to talk to, and that i’d feel comfortable around you,” jungwon muses, glancing down as he traces the rim of his plastic cup. he seems to be mulling over his next words carefully, lips twisted into a cute pout. “they also said that you were pretty. the photos they showed me really were great, but you’re even better in person. not that looks are the most important thing but, y’know. you’re a package deal, basically.”

you feel the way your ears burn red from his words, and you stutter your way through a shocked thank you. jungwon grins knowingly, but doesn’t comment on it further. instead, he asks you if you want to share one of the cake slices in the display window that you were eyeing earlier. you try not to look too eager as you nod, choosing to ignore jungwon’s mumble of cute as he walks away. for your well-being, of course.

jungwon returns with a slice of red velvet and two forks in hand. he waits for you to take the first bite before sinking his own fork into the cake. “your turn. what’d your friend tell you about me?”

you know you have to word your answer carefully, or else you worry you’ll come off as a weirdo. jungwon’s too good to chase off just yet, and you haven’t had this much luck with a date in a long while. or ever, you think.

“my friend told me that the most important things about you were that you’re a psychology major and that you look like that one campus cat,” you trail off, unsure, “charles? was that his name?”

jungwon barely manages to set his fork down before he’s bursting into laughter. you would think you’d said something wrong but his entire face is crinkled with amuse and you can’t help but join in on the giggling, ignoring the glaring teenagers from the table over.

“charlie, yes, of course i know him,” jungwon manages to squeeze in between giggles, “oh my god, i didn’t know people outside of my friend group knew about this joke."

“so you’re the cat that’s always hanging around the quad,” you say, dead-serious, and jungwon meows cutely as if to agree with you.

“okay, so,” he puts his hand up and begins listing off on his fingers, “i look like a boba ball, the infamous cat on our campus, and what else?”

“my next boyfriend,” you say before you can stop yourself, and you slap a hand over your mouth in surprise as your cheeks color in embarrassment.

jungwon grins. “that can be arranged.”

✧ niki - arcade

“okay, now i’m actually convinced you’re cheating,” niki whines loudly, letting go of the controller and slumping back in his seat with a pout.

the game you’ve been going at for the past half hour– a car racing game set in an alternate reality– dramatically replays the moment your character crossed the finish line and won. the stark contrast of the accompanying confetti on the screen next to niki’s misery makes you giggle, and you reach out to slip the tickets that the machine spits out into your backpack.

“will you feel better if i get you something with these?” shaking a strand of tickets enticingly, you watch as your date immediately sits up and abandons his sulking to nod at you eagerly.

the teenager working the prize desk looks at the two of you with such a deadpan expression you nearly mistake him for a robot. gathering your pile of tickets onto the counter, you look up at the various different stuffed animals and boxes on display, frowning once you notice the ticket prices taped onto them, denoted with far too many zeroes for your liking. almost like inflation’s gotten to the arcades as well.

“see anything you like?” you turn to niki, brushing your shoulder against his.

you watch him survey the different rows, expression growing grim once he comes to the same exact realization as you.

“um,” it’s almost comical how you can hear the frown in his voice. “actually nevermind, these prizes are crazy. holy shit, three thousand tickets for a snorlax plushie?”

“right!” you nod, ducking your head and stifling your laughter when the employee sighs out loudly.

with your meager six hundred and thirty-seven tickets, you and niki manage to get a handful of smaller, yet arguably better things: a sticky frog, two chinese finger traps, a whistle that sounds like duck quacks, and three boxes of different pocky flavors.

“i had no idea that coconut pocky existed,” you mumble in awe, reaching into the packet to draw out another stick. you observe it under the fading sunlight, popping it into your mouth with a happy hum.

after you and niki had spent your fortune of tickets, you’d decided to take your business elsewhere (or, alternatively: leave before the employee ended up kicking you out). you found yourselves on a bench right outside of said establishment, going through each of the prizes that you’d tucked away into your backpack.

“me neither, but i really like ‘em. here, have some of the mango ones,” niki holds out a second box towards you, and you eagerly reach in to pull out some of the sticks. 

the sun’s begun to descend down the horizon, and you realize with a start that you’d managed to spend the entire day in the arcade with niki. the date seems to be drawing to an inevitable end, much to your disappointment, but you can’t help and savor the warm feeling that the day has left you with.

“it’s getting dark,” niki seems to read your thoughts. you hear shuffling and turn to see him stand up and collect his belongings, reaching out to offer his hand to you once he’s done. “i should walk you to your bus stop.”

staring up at him, you blurt, “do you want to go get a proper dinner instead?”

the words rush out of you before you can think, but no matter your shyness, you’re glad you’ve said them. niki’s surprised expression quickly morphs into something gentler, and he nods almost like he’s relieved. “oh thank god, i didn’t want to go home yet either.”

laughing, you take his hand and stand up from the bench you’d been sharing for the past hour. but even after he helps you up, niki doesn’t let go of your hand, instead threading his fingers through yours to hold you more comfortably.

you don’t say anything, but when niki looks over at you to make sure it’s okay, you smile at him brightly.

“are you sure? really, don’t feel like you have to offer just to be nice,” he mumbles. his words are soft against the onslaught of rain outside, and you almost miss the timid edge to his voice.

he’s nervous, you realize with a start. your invitation appears to have thrown him off-guard, and it dawns on you that this is the first time you’d be sleeping in a bed together.

as if answering for you, the stormy sky outside splits open with another series of crackling lightning. flinching, yeonjun hugs his windbreaker tighter around himself, and you resist the urge to call him out for being stubborn. you’d spent the last half hour convincing him to stay the night, and after driving his excuses into dead ends, he had no option but to stay with his beloved partner instead of venturing out into the downpour.

tragic, right?

yeonjun and nervous aren’t exactly two things you’d put together. they can coexist, but not necessarily belong to one another. that being said, the strange predicament you found yourself in at the moment was making you worry.

“i promise,” you say, leaning in to peck him on the bridge of his nose. “now go shower. i love you, but you’re not coming into my bed with your outside clothes.”

as a freshly-cleaned yeonjun steps into your bedroom a half hour later, you try not to let your wandering eyes dip below his exposed clavicle. clearing your throat, you busy yourself with changing into your pajamas and slipping into your side of the bed, where you pretend to find interest in the miscellaneous belongings you’d strewn about your bedside table. now you’re feeling nervous.

yeonjun shyly perches himself on the edge of your bed, picking at a stray thread on your comforter. the image is so unlike the yeonjun you know, any semblance of your confident and shameless boyfriend now seemingly having been washed away. he’s replaced by a charmingly bashful version that you’ve only seen a handful of times before, primarily at the very beginning of your relationship.

it’s weird, and yet strangely endearing.

“there's room up here as well, y’know,” you prompt, snorting when yeonjun looks up at you like a deer caught in headlights. patting the space next to you, you pull back the blanket and smooth over the sheets, humming absentmindedly.

you hear movement a second later, looking up to find your boyfriend crawling up by your side and awkwardly shuffling under the covers. he lays on his side, peering up at you through his lashes and patiently waiting for you to join him. you take that as your cue to turn your bedside lamp off, plunging the room into semi-darkness.

you’ve just barely begun to make out the edges of yeonjun’s face when he shuffles closer, looping his arms around your waist and closing the distance between you two. his cold feet brush yours, and when you yelp in response, you’re met with a series of giggles that tell you there’s nothing to worry about.

“hi,” you say.

“hi,” yeonjun parrots, “you’re comfy.”

humming, you bring your hand up to massage the area where his neck meets his shoulders. almost instantly, you feel him relax even further into your embrace, dropping his face into your chest with a barely-discernable whine. got him, you think.

“does this mean i can sleep over more often?” it’s hard to hear him from where he’s mumbling against your shirt, but you’ve learned to decipher his sleepy murmurs.

“depends, are you going to get shy like this every time?”

yeonjun’s answer is muffled yet again, and you’re unsure if he was saying something or just whining again. tapping on his neck, you feel him draw back to look up at you, smoothing your thumb down the side of his cheekbone fondly.

“m’sorry, it’s just that i’m not used to you initiating things like this,” he says. his hand finds purchase along your hip and he rubs his thumb in comforting circles. “makes me feel nervous but in a good way. it’s nice to see you comfortable while doing these things.”

“so you’re saying i need to step my flirt game up,” you tease.

“whatever you’re comfortable with,” he’s quick to say, and you feel the fondness practically warm you inside out. no matter what he’s doing, yeonjun will always be gentle and considerate.

“well, looks like you’re in luck,” you decide, pinching his red cheek (gently). “cause i’m starting to take a liking to this shy side of you.”

✧ soobin - moving in together

out of all the things that could have gone wrong, you wonder why it had to be this.

“the moving company got their date mixed up,” soobin groans. he tosses his phone onto the only piece of furniture you two had managed to bring up yourselves– a rickety desk chair from ikea– and you snort as the sound reverberates around the empty room. “they thought we scheduled them for tomorrow. the guy sounded really sorry though, and offered a discount for the inconvenience.”

rubbing at your temple, you try to ignore the way your exhaustion grows tenfold at the news. “i’m too tired to be upset right now,” you admit. the only thing on your mind at the moment was rest. and food.

ever since soobin brought up the idea a year into your relationship, it’s been a big decision in the making. truthfully, it had always been at the back of your mind; the intimacy of sharing a living space with your partner. you knew you wanted to take this step with soobin and knew that it would require months of planning and arranging for it to be realized, but you were prepared to overcome whatever came your way.

finding an affordable place that wasn’t a considerable distance from both of your workplaces was challenging enough, but when you finally decided on a few candidates, another series of obstacles were presented. landlords had complicated requirements, especially for couples who weren’t married yet, and that left you with even fewer options than you’d first anticipated. add a pet into the equation, and you could count your choices on one hand.

(soobin had jokingly suggested you two get married to avoid one of the issues, but more and more often you found yourself wishing he meant it.)

the place you’d found was quite short of perfect, but it was lovely and fitting in its own regard. it had enough space for both of you and your baby (odi), and it was located in a neighborhood that allowed you to easily access family, the workplace, and a recreational area. soobin was going to live there with you, and that was enough to get you to overlook the less-than-perfect parts.

sitting down, you thank the universe that the place was at least clean when you arrived. you rest your back against the wall and close your eyes, listening as soobin cycles through another round of phone calls in the hallway.

you don’t realize you’ve drifted off until soobin gently wakes you up by patting your head. groaning and stretching, you almost fall over from excitement when you realize that the room smells like food. not just any food, but your favorite noodles.

the room’s still disappointingly empty and the sky outside is getting dark fast, but soobin’s looking at you with a dimpled smile and holding up a bag of takeout from your dearest restaurant like a trophy. you can write today off as a good day.

despite the fact that you still have no chairs or a table to eat on, you and soobin arrange yourselves and the few belongings you’d brought into a formation that allows you to eat comfortably on the floor of the apartment. you didn’t exactly dream of eating takeout on the floor of your empty place on move-in day, but hey, things have a way of working themselves out.

“this would be a good place for that shelf you liked at ikea,” soobin mumbles between chews, pointing his chopsticks in the direction of the wall adjacent to you.

nodding, you set your box of noodles down and gesture to the area by the grand window. “right? i was thinking odi’s cage can go here. and we can put up some curtains to make sure he doesn’t get too warm.”

something in your chest lets up. rolling your neck, you ignore the painful creak in your back and blink through your tired haze to admire your boyfriend. soobin, who had tirelessly pushed through today and made sure things worked out the best they could. soobin, who made sure you felt comfortable and accommodated throughout the whole process, especially when things got physically demanding. soobin, who loves you endlessly and got you your favorite meal after a long day.

“i’m really happy we’re doing this,” soobin whispers earnestly. his eyes dart around the empty room before settling on your hands where they’re cradled in your lap. “even if not everything goes our way, i’m glad i’m going through everything with you.”

“we’ll work this out too,” you promise, and it feels hopeful on your tongue. reaching out to encircle soobin’s free hand in your own, you squeeze it reassuringly. and when he smiles back, you start to believe yourself.

✧ beomgyu - meeting his family

there’s an element of truth to the saying karma is a bitch.

partially, you are at fault. but the instigator at fault here really, are those stupid romance movies you’d watched with beomgyu.

an important thing to note: neither you nor beomgyu are fans of romance movies. if anything, you two are able to bond over your mutual dislike of the genre, no matter which forms you choose to consume it in. that being said, your decision to binge-watch and extensively criticize them was coming back to kick you in the ass. hard.

“i promise my parents don’t bite,” beomgyu had said, in a light-hearted attempt to reassure you. “my brother might, but i’ll bite him back.”

you weren’t able to formulate a response back without screaming, so you gave beomgyu what you hoped was your best convincing smile. five minutes later, you found yourself at the threshold of his childhood home, stepping into it with quivering hands and a smile so shaky you feared it’d turn into a frown the second you relaxed.

here’s the thing. you’d always found it silly when couples met the parents in movies. you’d told your boyfriend that it was overexaggerated. cringy. unrealistic. sitting through the scenes made your skin physically crawl, especially when the characters purposefully got themselves into situations that evoked the strongest sense of second-hand embarrassment you’d ever gotten.

however, the worst part, inarguably, was the parents. without fail, every time, they were handpicked to be teeming with the most awful traits known to man. you understood it was purely for entertainment purposes, but god did it drive you up the wall.

tldr: you and beomgyu think romance movies are silly. you in particular think the meeting the parents scenes are the worst.

almost ironically, here you are, a solid five months into your relationship with beomgyu, meeting his parents.

they’re warm and inviting and the complete opposite of what your self-sabotaging brain had expected. his mother hugs you like you’ve known each other for years, smiling at you with a gentleness that makes your heart feel all funny. his father’s equally excited to meet you, eagerly ushering you into the house and bumbling about a much-needed tour (and a whole bunch of other things, but you’re still panicking and barely picking up anything else).

beomgyu remains at your side the entire time, hand securely held in his own as you shuffle after his father through the different rooms. you even get the pleasure of seeing beomgyu’s childhood room, which still retains a semblance of his younger self, encapsulated by the copious amounts of band posters and colorful figurines lining his shelves.

you’re joined by his older brother at dinner, who graciously introduces himself as beomgyu’s worst enemy and promises to show you blackmail-worthy material later. the meal itself is just as lovely, and you find yourself sheepishly reaching out for seconds and thirds when his parents encourage you to. the dishes spanning from one end of the table to the other are deliciously colorful and vary in taste and texture, and the thought of the family preparing for you in such a way has your heart clenching.

“this is freaking me out,” you tell beomgyu once the two of you retire to the guest room for the night. “why do they like me? why hasn’t one of them made fun of me for what i’m majoring in? are they going to hit me with it over breakfast tomorrow? because i’d rather not, i was really looking forward to those blueberry pancakes that your mom mentioned and–”

“babe,” he cuts you off, though not unkindly. his hands worm themselves around your waist, drawing you into a much-needed embrace.

letting out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you rest your forehead against his shoulder and allow yourself a moment of vulnerability.

“i wasn’t just saying things when i told you they’d love you,” he murmurs. you feel him beginning to gently sway you side to side, and you let yourself become boneless in his hold. “you’re perfect for me, and i’m perfect for you. it’s not hard for them to tell.”

nodding, you try to even out your breathing to match his. after a few minutes of silent rocking, your boyfriend pulls back to look at you head-on, and your heart leaps into your throat at the sheer fondness in his expression. even in the darkness, his eyes gleam with adoration and you find yourself overwhelmed with love yet again.

“thank you,” you say earnestly. you hope beomgyu understands how much this means to you.

the next morning, you’re finally able to indulge in a choi family breakfast (featuring their infamous blueberry pancakes and breakfast tarts). the table isn’t filled with hostile comments regarding the ins and outs of who you are, but rather genuine inquiries into your field of specialty and interests. beomgyu and his family listen attentively, responding in their own unique ways and furthering the conversation with interesting bits about themselves.

you feel beomgyu’s eyes following you throughout the entire morning, straying only once his attention’s called for by his parents. you spend most of your time at the table, exchanging embarrassing stories with his brother, and before you know it, it’s already noon.

you and beomgyu are tasked with washing the dishes while the rest of the family head up to get dressed for the afternoon activity that your boyfriend had suggested. for the most part, it’s slow and quiet, just like the rest of the morning. you’re bringing over the mugs when it happens– beomgyu moves in and readily corners you against the counter, grinning mischievously when you go red all over.

“i’m starting to regret bringing you here,” he whispers, and you feel yourself freeze as the sound of footsteps approaches the kitchen. “i can’t even get you to myself…”

“here’s that photo of him with his underwear on his head,” you immediately recognize his brother’s voice, and you rush to set the mugs down in the sink before you drop them.

beomgyu whirls around with a glare so harsh you worry he’ll start wrinkling at 30, and promptly tries to rip the photograph out of his sibling’s hand. the kitchen’s soon filled with yells, and if you had no concept of who was fighting in the room, you’d think it were two toddlers.

you know it’s no use picking a side, so you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip out the back door and greet your favorite family member– toto.

✧ taehyun - saying “i love you”

there’s something on your mind.

you can’t pinpoint exactly when it started following you, but ever since you’d first taken notice of it, it hasn’t left.

it’s present in the little things; when taehyun’s mittened hand seeks yours out blindly, when his eyes follow you through crowds fondly, when the scent of his cologne fills the empty gaps of your life with familiarity, when his mouth wraps around the syllables of your name with care.

it’s everywhere even when he’s nowhere to be found; he’s the tiger lilies at the florist boutique on your block’s corner, he’s in the rhythm of the pop songs you hear at the grocery store, he’s the stuffed otter you hug to sleep on difficult nights.

it’s abstract and yet it isn’t. by all standards, it isn’t tangible. and yet you know you feel it when taehyun weaves his fingers tenderly through yours; you know you see it when taehyun’s eyes meet yours and the edges curl like crescent moons; you know it’s part of you when you feel warm and electric all over at the prospect of telling him.

you’re in love with taehyun, and you’re going to tell him tonight.

“there’s something on your mind,” he says, and the grin on his face tells you he already knows.

shrugging, you look back down at your phone, situated precariously in your lap. the bright numbers on your screen read 11:54 PM. six minutes to midnight.

“you don’t have to tell me what it is,” taehyun continues. “but you know you can tell me anything. right?”

“right,” you confirm, voice soft. looking over at the neighboring rooftop, you notice a group of teenagers beginning to spill out into the night air. “of course. i know that.”

five minutes to midnight. the december air is brittle with snow as it blankets seoul, coloring the dazzling landscape a muted white. taehyun’s coat sits snugly around your shoulders, warm and familiar, encasing you like an unspoken promise. even as your breath curls into the night in gray tufts, you can’t feel a semblance of cold.

four minutes to midnight. scuffing the edge of your shoe against the ground, you tuck your phone into your pocket and stand up. taehyun’s eyes follow you, but you’re too afraid to look back. you pace over to the railing and lean against it, breathing in deeply to steady yourself. your ribs ache with anticipation, your fingertips buzz, and your throat feels tight.

three minutes to midnight. somewhere in the distance, a loud shout rings out. the teenage company on the next roof over begins to light their sparklers, giggling buoyantly at the flares that spring up.

two minutes. your breaths begin to thin out, each stretching just a millisecond reach less than the other. your mind is reeling, positively overwhelmed with how much there is to say, but the diminishing seconds keep growing and you’ve got no time.

one minute. from inside, you can hear the tv program’s commentator begin to count down the seconds. stepping back from the railing, you look up at the sky. it’s dark and empty, void of any stars that should be there.

“i have something to tell you too,” taehyun whispers.

you blink the world back into focus. taehyun’s to your right, looking at you with the words ready on his lips. seoul is loud and brilliant, but you can only see him.

taehyun’s hand finds your own, and you don’t have to think. you love him.

“and i love you,” taehyun responds.

you don’t realize you’ve said it out loud until the birds in your chest spring free. the world around you erupts into a colorful blast of fluorescent yellows and reds and blues, deafening as the fireworks fill the sky with vivid spirals. your ears are ringing and you feel out of breath and your throat aches, like you’d just screamed away every last second into january.

“i love you, i love you, i love you!” your shouts are drowned out by the whistle and crackle of the ceremony unfolding above you, but taehyun can hear you and that’s all that matters.

the cotton of his mittens envelopes the sides of your face and he brings your lips to his own with a toothy grin. he’s warm and smells like evergreen pine, tastes like the cider you had earlier, and you love him.

✧ kai - first kiss

“i’m not making this a big deal,” kai pouts. his eyes flit across your face, and his brows furrow when he picks up on the nervous twitch of your lip. “i’m not, right?”

“you’re totally making this a big deal,” despite the fact that you feel like your heart’s about to beat out of your chest, you giggle.

perhaps, in retrospect, you shouldn’t have told your boyfriend about your inexperience surrounding kissing. though it was a conversation you knew kai would handle with utmost consideration, you felt jittery and nervous all the same.

the secret’s involuntarily revealed a few weeks into your relationship when kai tries to kiss you at the end of a date. in an anxious fit, you’d freaked out and backed away, but not for the same reason that your boyfriend initially suspected. after copious reassurances and promises, you’d told him the real cause behind your panic: lack of experience.

if anything, kai took your confession in stride. he’d hugged you instead and promised to talk about the matter later, when you two weren’t trembling outside of your apartment at midnight.

the talk in question was currently being held on the floor of your living room. the two of you are curled up by the foot of the couch, facing each other with varying degrees of red on your faces. there’s a show playing in the background, but you’d stopped paying attention a long time ago.

you’d told kai that you didn’t want to make it a whole thing, and that he didn’t need to feel obligated to do anything out of the ordinary for you. a kiss was a kiss, and whether it happened in the mundanity of your home or at the top of a ferris wheel, it only mattered to you who it was with.

you just wanted to get it over with, for both your and your boyfriend’s sake.

kai looks at you with something so tender in his eyes you feel your breath catch in your throat. as the last of your laughter dies out and the silence returns, you try not to think about how much you want to throw caution to the wind and press up against him.

“i’m going to do it now,” he announces, and you try not to burst into another fit of laughter. 

the ghost of his hand brushes by your nape, cradling the back of your head and thumbing at your skin soothingly. you hadn’t even noticed that you’d gone warm all over, and the contrast of his cold fingers against your neck makes you shiver. kai’s eyes meet yours questioningly, and when you give him an affirmative nod, he leans into your space with purpose.

it’s short and chaste and achingly sweet, but above all, more than you could’ve asked for. the pressure against your lips is unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and you find yourself melting right into the feeling. but it’s gone before your mind can catch up, leaving you suspended mid-air with a rushing heart, yearning for more.

kai draws back from the kiss with a nervous exhale, though he hovers in your orbit with a giddy smile, watching for your reaction. his cheeks are flushed and his eyes are chasing your lips like he wants to dive right back in, and you’re sure you’re in a very similar predicament. pressing your palm against your cheek in an attempt to soothe your burning skin, you shyly look up at him through your lashes.

“how was it?” he asks, the question spilling out between the two of you like a secret. there’s a vulnerable undertone to it that immediately has you sitting up and smiling reassuringly.

“hmm, i don’t know,” you say teasingly, with an embarrassingly breathless quality to your words. you reach out to brace your arms around his neck, toying with the soft tufts of hair you find. “you’re going to have to do it again, i wasn’t really paying attention.”

"how about i run you a bath?"

and before you can fully process his question, let alone finish saying yes, he's jumping out of his seat and speedwalking to the bathroom.

the bathroom smells like sweet lavender and cream honey when you walk in, and you find yeonjun crouched by the faucet, struggling to make bubbles with the liquid soap. he doesn't realize you're there until you giggle, startling him into nearly falling face-first into the growing heap of pink bubbles.

after you strip out of your day clothes, you shyly shuffle into the tub under yeonjun's watchful stare. you dare to look up only once you're submerged up to your shoulders and find that his eyes are filled with nothing but adoration. if anything, that just makes you feel even shyer.

yeonjun takes care in gently detangling your strands and making sure that he doesn't accidentally tug at your roots. his ministrations are slow, massaging your scalp and letting the blunt end of his nails drag along just the right places. you can almost fall asleep like that, lulled into a hazy doze by his soft humming and the comforting warmth cradling your head.

he takes his time in properly washing the product out of your hair and ensuring that none of the suds fall into your eyes, cupping the area just above your eyebrows with heed. once your hair seems to be all done, his hands slip to your shoulders and begin to knead in slow circles, coaxing soft sighs out of you the closer they draw to your neck.

after you're out of the tub and wrapped up in a clean, fluffy towel, yeonjun will seat you on the toilet lid and blow dry your hair. it's a bit awkward, especially since he hasn't really done this for anyone but himself, but the fondness with which he carefully cards through your damp strands is enough to make you forget all about your day.

✧ soobin - baking together

ever since soobin initially suggested you two bake brownies a month into your relationship, baking quickly became your favorite couple’s activity.

you were never really an expert, quite the contrary, but soobin reassured you that baking required less skill and more love. naturally, you called bullshit on his encouragements. if you couldn’t properly handle a mixer, much less bake cookies without burning them, you were sure it was a sign from the universe to stay away from baking.

and yet, several baking dates later, you found yourself genuinely enjoying the silly desserts you and soobin would curate. you even had a shared pinterest board on which you added any eye-catching recipes you scrolled past, and had gone through a sizable amount yourselves. from chocolate hedgehogs to studio ghibli-inspired creampuffs and outrageously sweet brownie-oreo hybrids, you’d pretty much explored all ends of the dessert category with soobin.

“this looks like a lumpy boob, not a cookie,” you whine loudly and step back from the counter angrily.

you and soobin are currently in his apartment’s kitchen, whipping up cookies for his family to enjoy tomorrow. after you found out they’d be in town, you slipped the suggestion to your boyfriend, who delightedly offered you two take on a family recipe. in retrospect, everything was going to be fine.

until you actually got your hands on the damn dough.

“babe, you have to form it with your palm, not your finger,” soobin giggles. he abandons his own tray to sidle up behind you, grabbing your wrists gently and imitating the technique he’d been using.

“i’ve tried,” you huff. glancing down at your hands, you watch in awe as your boyfriend manages to fix up the shape of the cookies, forming them into perfect hearts and stamping space in their middles for jam.

between the two of you, soobin was by far miles more experienced and adept at baking. you often found yourself frustrated with certain steps of recipes, unfamiliar with more practical methods and tricks that the directions called for. as such, you’d end up partially screwing up, and–

–and each time, soobin would drop what he was doing and come help you. he’d gently guide you and talk you patiently through what he was doing, ensuring that you understood the logic behind the approaches. he never once responded to your panic with annoyance or carelessness, despite the numerous times it’d happened.

without fail, soobin would always knead your worries away.

“there! do you want to go try with the rest of my dough?” you look over your shoulder and blink soobin’s face back into focus. he’s looking down at you with a soft smile, raising his brows when you take a minute to respond.

“yeah, i’d like that soob,” you say. before he can walk away, you spin around and cup his face with your flour-coated palms, giggling at his surprised squawk. pecking him squarely on the lips, you revel in his dazed expression before skipping away smugly.

✧ beomgyu - teaching you how to play his favorite game

despite how cool your boyfriend is, he's also a huge dork.

the kind of dork to geek out over computer games and text you with long strings of excited emojis whenever he progresses to the next level. the kind to facetime you during rounds and send you screenshots with updates, even if you have no idea of what you're supposed to be looking at.

it's really cute, you absolutely couldn't deny that, and it makes you feel ten times more enamored with him, but he is still undeniably a dork.

he's playing something on his computer when you arrive at his apartment for your date. it’s saturday, meaning it’s movie and takeout night for you and beomgyu, so you’ve come prepared (read: a slightly damp plastic bag with several containers of noodles, rice, and various types of meat). you call his name as you slip your shoes off, frowning when all you hear in response is the keyboard clicking from down the hallway.

peeking into his room, you shyly knock on the wall to get his attention. beomgyu almost falls off of his chair in surprise, but he launches up almost immediately to engulf you in an embrace. he asks if you’re okay waiting a couple of minutes for his round to finish, at which you readily nod and proceed to plop yourself down on his bed.

watching beomgyu play through his round is surprisingly entertaining, particularly because you’re not really sure what’s going on in his game. your gaze drifts off to his concentrated expression, tracing his soft features and dropping to his bitten lip with interest. something in your chest flutters, but you quickly push it aside when you see beomgyu lean back in his chair and a leaderboard pop up on his screen.

the game’s over, and yet you can’t help but be curious.

"can i try?"

you think he might laugh it off, might just shake his head and call you cute, but beomgyu's chair swivels around to face you and he looks anything but humored. instead, his wide eyes meet yours and you almost startle at how eager he looks. he nods bashfully, and as you draw nearer, you notice the growing red tint along the tips of his ears.

you're instructed to sit between his legs and rest your arms on his desk cover, hands hovering over the mouse and LED keyboard nervously. they're quickly covered by beomgyu's own, and he situates them on top of the necessary keys as he walks you through the basics of moving around and using items in the game.

it's honestly a bit confusing at first, but you think you get the hang of it when you manage to get through the first level. it's also very difficult to concentrate when you have beomgyu's chest pressed up against your back and his chin propped on your shoulder, so it's a miracle you don't end up sending his character into one of the lava pits from the get-go.

after a few minutes of familiarizing yourself with the basics, you begin to feel a bit braver, so you decide to join the queue of a team round. it isn't exactly the best decision, given the exasperated remarks from your teammates in the chat, but beomgyu cheers you on regardless and claps keenly when you score.

unsurprisingly, you place somewhere right above last place. but beomgyu is sure to give you a congratulatory kiss (or two) when you turn around to grin at him sheepishly.

✧ taehyun - sharing clothes

drip, drip, drip.

the rain outside of your window had measurably subdued, but you were still suffering the consequences of being outside at the wrong time. wrapping the towel tighter around your shoulders, you frown up at the murky sky and slide the curtains closed again.

“you’re going to catch a cold like that,” your boyfriend’s voice rises from behind you, and you look back to find him toweling his damp hair. you also find that he’s not quite clothed, just like you, and resist the urge to scoff despite your reddening ears.

the situation you found yourself in was frustratingly preventable. if either you or taehyun had taken a look at the forecast for the day before meeting for your date, you wouldn’t be shivering or about to catch a cold. you were caught outside when the storm came on, and taehyun’s place was the closest shelter you could take, so you braved through the few minutes of running in the rain to get back.

your heart catches in your throat when he steps closer, and you pointedly look away from his defined torso. he’s smirking, you can tell from your periphery, but you won’t let him win this time.

“and it’ll be all your fault,” you huff. “where’s that sweatshirt you promised me?”

taehyun laughs, and you instantly feel yourself relax despite the way your body's shaking. he gestures for you to follow him, and you watch as he digs around in one of his drawers for the promised snoopy sweatshirt. it’s the one he was wearing when you two first met, and undoubtedly your favorite from his entire wardrobe.

as you’re slipping it on and reveling in the comforting smell of his laundry detergent, you catch a glimpse of a criminally-familiar shade of pink out of the corner of your eye. tugging the sweatshirt down properly, you thank taehyun and watch him pace over to the side of his bed to grab some moisturizer.

while he’s busy rubbing on lotion, you curiously open the drawer again, and– there it is. your beloved hoodie. in all of its stolen glory.

“hey,” you say, furrowing your brows. “isn’t this that hoodie i texted you about? the one i wanted to wear out with my friend? you said you didn’t know where it went!”

picking it up, you hold it out in front of you and frown.

any sound from taehyun’s direction halts and you look over to see him grinning shamelessly. “oops?”

“i’m going to start keeping a lock on my closet,” you grumble. ignoring the flutter in your chest, you haphazardly fold the hoodie back up and toss it onto the bed.

taehyun says nothing, but you hear him approach you and hold your breath, trying to will your racing heart to calm down. except that he doesn’t kiss you on the shoulder like he usually does when he senses you’re upset. instead, you hear more shuffling, and can’t help but sneak a glance over to see what he’s up to.

you’re met with an image that makes your chest feel stuffed to the brim with butterflies. taehyun’s wearing your hoodie, his hair adorably ruffled, and he’s looking up at you with wide, smiley eyes that melt away any last of your resolves. you can’t even pretend to be mad at him anymore.

“you can keep it i guess,” you know your exasperated sigh sounds fake to both of you, but taehyun laughs and kisses you on the cheek for good measure.

his fingers dance along the sleeve of the snoopy sweatshirt you’re wearing, humming absentmindedly as he brushes off any rogue pieces of lint. “yeah? i suppose this is a fair trade then.”

✧ kai - tracing his moles

kai’s bed is cramped. warm, comfortable, but also cramped.

you’ve woken up from your nap because of something poking you in your upper back. you don’t need to turn around to know that it’s one of your boyfriend’s plushies, likely the new pokemon you’d gifted him for his birthday. you were plenty excited when you’d found it in store, absolutely delighted because you knew he’d be overjoyed with it, but you were slowly beginning to strongly dislike it.

reaching back with a wince, you attempt to dislodge the stupid glaceon, prodding and pushing around blindly, but your bicep begins to burn uncomfortably after a few moments.

a soft huff from your front draws your attention away from the pressure against your spine. kai’s face is nestled comfortably against your chest, and it seems like he’s trying to wriggle around and make himself space further up, closer to your collarbones. immediately, any prior negative thoughts vanish, and your heart practically melts.

your boyfriend’s sleepy noises are enough for you to abandon any efforts to move the plushie, so you settle with running your fingers through his hair. it’s blond for now, and surprisingly soft given the intense bleaching process it’d undergone. he stirs in response, but the happy hum he lets out reassures you to continue with your movements.

blinking blearily, you squint over at the blinds covering the windows, where the sky outside has turned a mellow, sunset-y orange. you’d slept through the afternoon it seems, but you have no intention of getting up anytime soon. looking down at the boy in your arms, you surmise kai might feel the same.

his eyes flutter open like he can read your thoughts, and his lips pull into an adorable pout. smiling back, you let your hand gently fall to cup the side of his head, thumbing at the speckled spots you find.

“weirdo, why are you staring at me while i sleep?”

“your moles are really cute,” you say, ignoring him. tracing the tip of your finger up from his cheek, you tap his temple gently. “they sort of remind me of a constellation. like the big dipper.”

you feel rather than hear the flustered whine that kai makes, right against your sternum. he curls up against your front, and you almost forget about the fact that he’s big enough to have his feet hang off of the end of his bed. his arms and legs wind tighter around you, almost as a form of punishment, and you gasp when you feel his hand flitter up your side threateningly.

thankfully, no further moves to tickle you are made, and you relax again in his hold. he’s warm, pleasantly so, and you can feel your eyelids beginning to droop.

Jake laughs good-naturedly, but the momentary lapse of insecurity in his voice isn’t lost on you. You feel guilty for just a moment, but don’t allow yourself to dwell on it. As you finalize his order on the screen, you look up to find Jake already looking back at you, almost expectantly.

“Your total’s $270.59.”

Jake’s face falters the slightest bit, but you don’t think it’s because of the ridiculously high price. “Does that factor in the ‘good friend discount’?”

The phrase makes something sour flood in your mouth, and you resist the urge to scowl. The receipt machine prints out his total, and you rip the paper out with more force than admitted necessarily. You nearly slam it down on the counter in front of Jake, peering up at his shocked face through your lashes. “Yea? What’s my favorite color, Jake?”

Noticeably taken aback, Jake’s confident demeanor slips away as easily as a receding wave. He stutters around his next sentence, and you try not to let your satisfaction show as you open the register. Jake looks down as he counts through the bills in his wallet, pulling out several and passing them timidly across the surface. “Uh–, well, hmm. Something… blue? Wasn’t it blue?”

“I hate blue,” you spit the lie out a bit too quickly, and hope Jake can’t see right through you. You accept the bills you’re handed with pursed lips, slipping them into your register and handing back the few cents you owe him.

“You don’t,” Jake answers immediately, not bothering to reach out and pocket the change. “You love blue. That light seafoam shade you see on the shore. Used to say it reminded you of summer.”

Despite how much you want to disagree, your throat feels all dry and your eyes are stinging and you don’t think you can bear to look at Jake much longer without saying something regretful. But something about letting him think he still knows you makes your fists clench and gut boil.

“People change,” you say with an air of finality. “I changed. You changed.”

Jake takes his bag and steps back from the counter with the expression of a kicked puppy. He looks back at you like he wants to say something, something long left untouched, and you resist the urge to hide behind your counter and stuff your ears with cotton.

You feel naked and vulnerable– like Jake has carefully stripped away every last layer of your defenses and he can see the rotting remains of everything you didn’t say. You hate how he looks at you, like he knows exactly what’s going through your mind and the inner monologue you’ve been fighting since you first met him. Like he still knows you in and out, despite moving away and changing every last bit of yourself that reminded you of him.

“Thanks for shopping with us,” the smile you give him is anything but warm, and you shut the register with a bang that echoes around the shop. “Have a good rest of your day, Jake.”

the scene in question: your hotel room is not in the same state you’d left it three hours prior. the king-sized bed is now adorned with scattered rose petals, which form a neat heart atop the blankets and dip into a loose pathway leading from the door. several candles are placed throughout the room, illuminating it in a cozy, warm glow and beckoning you inward.

as you close the door behind you and begin to walk into the arrangement, you spot another few finishing touches that have your heart soaring into your throat. there’s an arrangement of stuffed animals by the foot of the bed, tucked into a basket and cradling a bottle of champagne and a conspicuous envelope. on both of the bedside tables, there’s a variety of chocolates and sweets, along with familiar bags you immediately recognize as your favorite snacks.

“this is so cheesy i’m going to throw up,” you joke, but your voice comes out warbled. you feel something wet slip down your cheek and realize with a start that you’re crying.

“my baby,” yeonjun coos fondly, gently reaching out to wipe your face. you’re pulled into a hug, and instinctively lean in to rest your forehead on his clavicle.

wrapping your arms around him, you allow yourself a moment to steady your pounding heart. the dull metropolitan noises fill the gaps in the room from outside, muffling your teary sniffles. though you’d initially been put off by tokyo’s busy vibrancy, you were currently very thankful for it.

yeonjun’s valentine’s day present to you came a few days before the 14th. you’d found the plane tickets on his dresser by accident after looking for the necklace you’d left behind, tucked into an envelope with your name written in pink across it. you weren’t one to snoop, especially through your boyfriend’s belongings, but you couldn't help and bring it up to him, out of curiosity. and really, it was his fault for leaving it out in the open like that!

as sweet as the thought had been, your trip to tokyo had been anything but.

the initial flight the day before valentine’s had been delayed several hours, which stretched into upwards of half a day by the time you finally boarded. once on board, you experienced quite possibly the worst turbulence, leaving you staggering off the plane with shaky feet and nauseous stomachs. the cherry on top, though, was what you found when you arrived at the airport: a merciless blizzard and no taxis in sight, rendering you stuck for the next few hours.

by the time you even arrived at the hotel, you were both beyond exhausted to even fathom leaving and exploring the city, which meant you wasted another half day resting and recuperating from the awful flight. now, finally back in your room after a hectic day in the city, you could almost weep with how sweet the gesture is.

“i’ve instantly forgotten about every bad thing leading up to this moment,” you joke, brushing away your tears and laughing as yeonjun tries to kiss away the remaining wet spots on your cheeks.

sitting down on the bed, you run your hands over the sheets, marveling at the way the petals collect under your fingers. yeonjun joins you silently, watching you with a grin on his face that makes heat collect in every part of you. as you turn to look through the basket at the end of the bed, you excitedly squeal as you pull out the gifted teddy bear, fluffing it up and hugging it to your chest.

“are you going to pay more attention to the bear than me?” yeonjun’s pout is a killer, and you try not to look too eager as you drop the stuffed animal and turn to crawl toward him. he’s seated against the bedframe, patting his lap and looking at you expectantly.

“jealous?” you remark, watching the tips of his ears turn a lovely shade of red. situating yourself on his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck, looking down at him with subdued excitement.

“you wish,” he drawls, and then promptly leans in to kiss you like he means it.

✧ soobin - ice skating

cold, bruised, and wet isn’t exactly the way one would describe their ideal valentine’s day evening, but it seems like it’s the fate you’ve been assigned.

soobin’s mittened hand finds yours again, and for a second, you two are able to glide across the ice smoothly, simultaneously breathing out in relief. and then everything comes crashing down, literally, because soobin’s slipping and his grip on you loosens just a moment too late, bringing you down with him. your butt hits the ice with a muted thump, and you groan out as the numbness from your legs flares up again.

“bin, you lied about being good at this!” you whine, shifting on your side to massage your backside.

soobin’s shadow comes to loom over you a few moments later, and you’re taken aback by how quickly he’d managed to get himself up. accepting his offered hand, you shakily push yourself up from the ice, standing on wobbly feet and murmuring strings of curses under your breath.

though your boyfriend had insisted on bundling you up before going to the rink, the biting cold was beginning to settle in. you could feel the tendrils of chill creeping in between the fibers of your scarf, slowly but surely settling in and making you shiver.

“i wanted to impress you,” soobin admits sheepishly. when you look up, you catch him looking at you through his lashes shyly, almost like he wants to mumble an apology.

instead of letting him do so, you’re the one that reaches out this time, threading your fingers through his and dragging him along as you stumble your way across the ice. you don’t make it very far, maybe two meters at most, before you’re losing your balance again, meeting the ground palm-first. it stings no less than the other times you’d fallen, but soobin’s accompanying laughter this time makes it feel a lot better.

thankfully, your boyfriend’s determination to have you both complete at least three laps melts away soon after. he carefully leads you out of the rink (via shuffling and holding onto the railing), nearly crying out in joy once his skates are back on the pavement. you don’t think you’ve ever been happier to be back on land.

soobin instructs you to sit at one of the free tables overlooking the rink, and you waste no time in waddling over and plopping down. watching your boyfriend disappear into the nearby cafe, you ease your feet out of the skates, curling your toes experimentally and hissing at the bout of pain that lingers afterward. rubbing at your calves, you exhale sharply and look around in an attempt to distract yourself from the discomfort.

unsurprisingly, the rink is pretty much empty. there are only a few other couples, along with a group of teenagers who seem to be no better than you at traversing the ice. there’s a mellow love song playing through the speakers above, and you find yourself humming along subconsciously as you wait for soobin to return. the pink lantern decor around the seating area is cutesy, and even if you didn’t think you’d ever find yourself ice skating on valentine’s day in particular, you can’t say it’s disappointing in the least.

soobin returns moments later, two steaming cups in hand. he hands one of them to you, settling himself onto the bench next to you.

“you owe me a foot massage when we get back,” you say in lieu of greeting, accepting the cup with both hands. heat immediately seeps through the paper, making you sigh happily as you lean forward to take a sip.

“anything for you love,” soobin hums. he grins when you moan gratefully at the sweet chocolate that fills your mouth, bringing his own cup up to his lips for a sip. “i hope this can somewhat make up for an awful valentines day. i promise that i’m all yours when we get home.”

shaking your head, you set the hot chocolate down and lean into his side, sighing at the warmth that engulfs you. “hey! it wasn’t awful. even if it feels like i need a special cast for my ass now, it was fun to try something new with you.” reaching between the two of you for his hand, you instinctively begin to play with the rings on his fingers. “plus your other gift earlier was also reaaaally nice. i can’t complain at all.”

soobin turns a delightful shade of red, ducking to the side to ignore your teasing remark. you giggle, because really, how can your boyfriend be so lovely and wonderful, and resist the urge to pinch his flustered cheek.

“hey,” you try again, repeating yourself when he refuses to look at you. when he finally does look over at you, albeit with an exaggerated pout, you feel your heart grow tenfold.

cupping his cheek, you turn him to face you fully. there’s a sliver of chocolate right on the edge of his lips, staring at you head-on, and you think anybody would agree that you can’t let your boyfriend walk around with it unknowingly.

soobin’s eyes grow wide as you lean into his face, fluttering closed only once you brush your lips tentatively against his. but it seems the teasing’s gotten to him, because his hands weave around your shoulders in the next second, tugging you into a proper kiss. you gasp in surprise, and he uses the opportunity to angle your faces and deepen what you’d started.

curling into his chest, your free hand finds itself in his hair, threading through his locks with growing urgency. he responds with an appreciative noise that you swallow hungrily, and you feel his tongue slip past your lips with little delay. the fuzziness that usually fills your head during moments like this is present tenfold, every last corner of your head stuffed with cotton as you move in tandem with soobin’s lips.

overhead, the crackling announcement that the rink will be closing in ten minutes resonates through the shoddy speakers, effectively (and yet rudely) breaking you two apart. the upbeat love-pop-song-atrocity that you’d tuned out prior resumes, nearly making you laugh at how ridiculous the situation is. soobin’s expression is sour, much like yours, and you try to ignore the way his lips glisten under the rink’s lights.

you also resist the urge to giggle at soobin’s fluffed-up hair, which makes your boyfriend look like a poodle. reaching out to run your hands through his strands and to tame what bits you could, you glance back down at his lips, another thought worming its way into your mouth before you can really process it:

"so about that massage…”

✧ beomgyu - making dinner together

three gordon ramsay tutorials in and lots of struggling later, you and beomgyu found yourselves slumped by the kitchen counter, stomachs empty and expressions distraught.

"i’m sorry, i really thought this would be more romantic,” beomgyu whines, running a hand through his hair. you feel him look over at you, and you frown when you notice the insecure waver in his gaze.

“it’s okay,” you say earnestly. reaching out to place your hand atop his, you ignore the way your stomach growls in response. “i’m just happy we’re spending tonight together.”

though every element of that is completely true, you are still starving.

the initial plan was to cook through a simple dinner together– per beomgyu’s suggestion a week earlier– and to eat it together on the couch while watching your favorite movie. when you’d both discussed your preferences regarding celebrating valentine’s day, you’d come to the agreement that neither of you wanted anything extravagant. as cheesy as it was, you didn’t need anything more than each others’ presences.

dates with beomgyu were always simple; in the sense that you never felt overwhelmed or out of place. though it may come off as boring to others, it was what worked for both you and your boyfriend– what’s continued to make you happy all these months. and you weren’t thinking about giving it up.

“one more time,” you say. pushing yourself off the counter, you rewind the youtube video and look up at beomgyu with a set expression. “one more time, then i’ll agree to give up and we can order fried chicken.”

and so, with a resolve that could rival that of a stubborn toddler’s, you and beomgyu queue up music on his speaker and get to work. the recipe you were both attempting to master is only about twenty or so minutes, and you were able to get through the first half relatively well. now you just need to figure out how to get through the rest.

it’s another round of mistakes and another round of backtracking. rinse and repeat, rinse and repeat, and after about an hour, you and beomgyu manage to make something edible and not all that unappetizing-looking, as impossible as it had originally seemed. you’d been forced to cut out a sizeable amount of techniques that kept messing you up before, but you’d successfully gotten through the necessary steps. somewhat.

you’re rolling out another piece of dough when you feel it. a soft tap to your back, right as you’re laying out the food on the oven tray.

ignoring it, you spread more oil onto the paper. another tap.

“gyu, there’s one more set i have to finish and–” but as you turn around, expecting to come across another silly spectacle from your boyfriend, you’re met with his outstretched hand instead.

“could i have this dance?” the cheeky grin on his face makes you sigh loudly, but you dust your hands off nonetheless and bashfully accept the offer.

frank sinatra’s the way you look tonight filters through the speaker as he draws you into his embrace and begins to rock you two uncoordinatedly around the kitchen. you melt into his shoulder and giggle, humming along to the lyrics and trying not to step on your boyfriend’s feet. he even attempts to twirl you, which nearly sends the tray flipping over onto the floor, saved at the last second by your quick reflexes.

“won’t you please arrange it? ‘cause i love you,” beomgyu’s husky voice rumbles from right next to your ear, and you involuntarily tighten your arms around his neck. his hand by your waist begins to slip lower and lower and you gently smack his shoulder when he reaches down to squeeze your bum. “just the way you look tonight.”

“i’m literally wearing pajamas,” you mumble in response, laughing when he pinches your side with his other hand.

“and you’re still the sexiest person i’ve ever seen,” he answers easily.

the oven dings right as the song ends, signaling that it’s done preheating, and you reluctantly draw back from beomgyu’s hold. he pouts at you like a wounded puppy and it takes every last bit of self-restraint in you to rip yourself away from him. placing the tray carefully into the oven, you adjust the temperature and set a timer, letting out a loaded sigh when everything is finally situated.

great, now the only thing left to fuck up on is letting it burn.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are?” almost like clockwork, beomgyu’s arms wind around your middle without hesitation, pulling you back against his chest. his lips brush against your neck teasingly, and it’s embarrassing how quickly you become pliant under his hands.

“mmm, nope, don’t think i’ve ever heard that one before,” you joke, but your voice comes out breathy.

spinning you around in his hold, you squeak as beomgyu brings you into a measured kiss. he’s warm and smells familiar, and you resist the urge to bury yourself into the juncture right between his neck and shoulder. you feel something cold brush under your shirt and against your bare back, and you arch into his hold with little resistance.

“gyu, the chicken…” you mumble powerlessly, whining when his hands venture further up your back. despite your words, your own hands slide under your boyfriend’s shirt, reveling at the warm skin you find.

“don’t worry, it’s not going anywhere,” he pants into your mouth, grinning when you throw caution to the wind and answer him with an eager kiss.

✧ taehyun - fine dining

taehyun has had the perfect valentine’s day reservation for three months.

he made the call sometime in november, right after he heard you gush about this cool new place opening a block away from where you worked. you’d told him about how pretty it was inside with literal stars in your eyes, and even showed him the dozens of photos your coworker had sent.

and he had to admit, the place was neat. the prices didn’t make his head hurt like the other places he’d looked at and the interior looked like it was straight out of a netflix documentary on fine dining. plus, it certainly helped that you were interested in going. it was perfect, really, because he was beginning to lose his mind thinking that far ahead.

and it was turning out to be perfect, because when the taxi pulled up to the front of the restaurant and you caught onto where you were going, you turned to him with the biggest smile and reached out to squeeze his hand with trembling fingers. once outside in the chilly night air, you practically flung yourself into his arms, mumbling about how you were going to kiss him senseless when you didn’t have a thick layer of lipstick on.

“i’m really sorry sir, but i can’t find your reservation anywhere in our system.” of course. it really did seem just a little bit too perfect.

taehyun’s answering silence makes you frown. the employee’s shifty eyes dart back and forth between you two, and your heart falls at how sorry he looks. you surmise it’s been a long day for everyone, and this isn’t a problem worth complicating.

“i’m unfortunately unable to seat you at this time, but you’re welcome to wait for a table to clear up.”

behind you, you hear the next couple in line sigh loudly. this, combined with the clamor from inside the restaurant makes your head feel all fuzzy, and you decide you need to get out of there.

“let’s go tyun,” you whisper, tugging on his hand. he looks up at you with furrowed brows, and you notice the way his jaw seems taut, almost like he’s biting his tongue.

seoul is alive and buzzing as it would be on any other night, but wandering the streets with no plan makes it feel stuffy and overwhelming. the blares from cars stuck in traffic hound your ears as you turn another corner, desperate to work your way down a smaller street, away from the suffocating city center. your feet begin to burn the further you aimlessly walk, and everything’s beginning to feel like a maze and–

“hey, i’m really sorry that this didn’t work out.” pausing in your step, you throw a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend. you find him staring back at you with an apprehensive twist to his lips, one that makes your gut feel all weird.

“please don’t beat yourself up over it,” you frown, reaching out to smooth your thumb down his cheek. he’s cold to the touch, but the skin blooms pink where you touch it.

“i’m trying not to,” he jokes humorlessly, pouting when you jokingly threaten to flick him on the forehead. “what do we do now? every nice place has been booked for weeks.”

“who said i have to eat michelin-grade food?” it’s a genuine question, and yet taehyun looks at you like you’re a little bit crazy.

“i’m not taking you to mcdonalds,” he dismisses, crossing his arms. when you stare back at him silently, he begins to sputter, eyes growing incredulously. “what? no. no way. babe, i’m not taking you to mcdonalds on valentine’s day. how awful of a boyfriend do you think i am?”

“you’re my very wonderful and loving boyfriend,” you answer, reaching out to loop your arms around his neck. your fingers toy with the ends of his hair, staring up at him through your lashes and blinking slowly. “my dearest boyfriend who i know would go to the moon and back for me. you’ve treated me countless times before, and the thought that you wanted to bring me to a place i’ve always wanted to go to is enough for me. now let’s save us the trouble and get some mcnuggets. i’m starving.”

when taehyun stares dumbly back at you, you lean forward to kiss him square on the lips, drawing back a whisker’s worth to brush the tips of your noses together. and just like you’d intended, he agrees (but not without a sigh to let you know just how much you’d riled him up).

mcdonalds is also hectic, yet still a reprieve from the outside. as the two of you wait for your order, you bounce on the balls of your feet, both from being eager to finally eat and from the chill. taehyun watchfully offers you his jacket, draping it over your shoulders when you decline and dodging your attempts to give it back.

you take a booth on the second floor, somewhere in the back where you still have a glimpse of the outside world yet are far enough from other people to have a semblance of privacy. taehyun shuffles into the seat next to you, reaching out to unbox and lay out all the food in a presentable manner before you can even reach for a fry. despite how difficult it is, he manages to organize the burgers and nuggets in a way that makes them look like they really are michelin-grade.

“bon appetit,” he says, smiling when he turns to you and finds you already staring back.

despite the fact that you’ve had the same exact food dozens of times, you eat like a starved wolf, licking your fingers and appraising each bite like it’s your last meal. taehyun watches you fondly out of the corner of his eye, occasionally reaching out to wipe any ketchup or mustard from your chin. you should feel embarrassed, really, but you can’t find it in you when taehyun does it with such care.

unsurprisingly, the two of you get through most of the food with ease. once most of the boxes seem to be empty, you sit back in the booth and groan, massaging your tummy. taehyun seems to be finishing his share of fries, so you decide to admire him while you can still get away with it.

but you can’t for long, because as he feels your eyes roaming the side of his face, he turns to you with a sly grin. swallowing the bite he was chewing, he pops another fry into his mouth, but this time, he holds half of it out between his lips, staring at you expectantly. you immediately know what he wants you to do, know from the wagging of his brows that there’s only one thing on your boyfriend’s mind.

and who are you to deny him?

leaning forward, you bite the rest of the fry, inching closer and closer until you can peck taehyun’s lips. yet instead of indulging him, you draw back immediately, chewing and covering your mouth lest he decides to chase after you, giggling when he scrunches his face up at you.

“there’s more where that came from, but only once we get back,” you sing-song, popping a fry into your own mouth. except you’ve purposefully left half of it hanging out, and taehyun catches onto your intentions with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“yeah?” he whispers, nose brushing yours as he bites onto the other end of the fry. “we’ll see about that.”

✧ hueningkai - stargazing

it’s the thought that counts, right?

you think kai’s about to go crazy hearing you repeat that over and over, but you’re insistent on hammering it in.

“i checked on naver. i checked on google. i even watched the weather forecast segment on the news,” kai frantically lists, folding his blanket anew and huffing. his leg is bouncing up and down anxiously, and you resist the urge to reach out and place your hand on his knee.

“it’s okay kai,” you try again, feeling a frown tug at your lips when he puts his head down. “don’t beat yourself up over this. we can always do something else, yeah?”

when you’re met with silence, you reach out to brush the tips of your fingers along his hand, tracing loose patterns mindlessly. you always do this when he gets overwhelmed, choosing to sit and wait it out until he feels like he can breathe again. he’s told you your presence is enough, but you sometimes worry about what’s getting to his head.

the original plan was to go to the outskirts of seoul and watch the stars. kai had suggested the idea to you a week prior, and you’d instantly fallen in love with the idea. your last valentine’s celebration had been quite generic– though no less lovely, given that it was with kai– and you were looking forward to a change of pace.

everything had been set until half an hour before you were supposed to leave. there was an unsettling noise outside of your window, and right as you were slipping your shoes on, it escalated to a steady pitter-patter that told you exactly what was going on outside. kai had confirmed it a minute later, walking back in from your balcony with an expression of a kicked puppy.

“you know that overhang on the roof of your apartment?” your voice is soft against the onslaught of hail, and you nearly think he misses it. but you feel his fingers reach out to squeeze yours in response, and you continue without worry. “we can set up the blanket there. and it’ll be warmer, because we’re right next to the heating unit.”

despite how distraught your boyfriend was with your failed plans, it seems like the idea is enough to get him charged back up with his earlier enthusiasm. without preamble, he gathers all of your belongings into his hold and ventures out into the stairwell, where you catch up to him after three flights, the both of you winded like you’d just run a marathon.

you’re finally able to creak the roof’s door open several minutes later, and you’re instantly hit with a gust of cold air that has you regretting mentioning the idea. but kai’s face is smiley and radiant again as he sets up the blanket and pillows on the wooden platform under the overhang, and you can’t find it in yourself to spoil this.

wrapping your coat tighter around you, you crouch down and set the picnic basket on the middle of the blanket, emptying out its contents neatly. there’s assortments of snacks and even little sandwiches that kai had prepared earlier, as well as a thermos of your favorite tea and hot chocolate, both intended to keep you from getting sick.

“i honestly think this is way better,” you admit as you’re settling down onto the blanket. kai looks over at you with quirked brows, clearly not believing you, and you shrug. “what? i’m serious! so much more romantic than some random hill.”

“you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” he mumbles back, but you hear him whisper a sincere thank you right after.

popping a cookie into your mouth, you shuffle closer to your boyfriend, eyeing his chest with one goal in mind. when he looks up at you, you promptly scoot in between his legs, laying back against his front and reaching to grab his arms to wrap them around yourself. you feel him breathe out a chuckle against your neck, and you let out a happy little noise in response.

“i can see andromeda from here.”

“you literally cannot see any stars,” kai giggles softly, pressing his nose into your shoulder. you squirm, feeling ticklish, and his arms wrap around you tighter to hold you in place.

“what about this one then?” you ask, and promptly turn back to poke his cheek.

you feel rather than hear him whine against you, followed by a string of incoherent babbles which are too cute to decipher.

in the distance, the blare of a car’s horn rings out. but even if you’re reminded that it’s not just you and kai, suspended in the vast nothingness of the universe, you can’t help but feel like it is. it’s like the both of you exist in a plane separate from everything else, where you can tell him how much you love him and forget about everything else.

“happy valentine’s day,” kai whispers. his lips trail up the side of your neck, landing sweetly right below your ear.

the unexpected call comes at an hour too late for you to ignore. beomgyu’s manager is on the other line with a proposition that makes you sit up in bed and tug your sheets off urgently. you nearly think you’re stuck in the midst of a wishful dream, his voice a mere product of your sleep-deprived mind. but then he mentions something you’d been pondering on for months, something you’d never thought would be brought up to conversation with your boyfriend’s management team.

you’re left staring at your frazzled reflection in the bathroom mirror when he hangs up. he leaves it up to you to decide whether or not to tell beomgyu.

so, when beomgyu’s message inviting you to their last show on tour appears on your phone with a muted ding!, you decide to act. it feels a little mean, and it nearly makes you break your act when he sends enough sad face emojis to make the app lag, but you tell him you’re busy; unable to get a day off from your employer, who’s livid at the thought of you taking a vacation on such short notice.

it’s believable, almost too much so, because beomgyu answers with a voice message comforting you and promising to take you next time. he also sends you a selfie of him in his hotel bed, hair wet and lips devastatingly pouty, and you resort to turning your phone off to avoid telling him the truth.

you’ve come across countless photos and videos from his concert before, received even more from your boyfriend directly, but no amount of beomgyu fancams could prepare you for physically seeing him on stage. he looks absolutely incandescent, like a star that’s gotten to close to earth, and your lungs constrict at how effortlessly he carries himself through the songs.

the fervor and keenness with which he throws himself into his performance has left you awe-stuck every time, but seeing it on a stage in such a large-scale venue makes your heart squeeze with pride. there’s a certain glow to all of the members, really, one that made it hard for you to take your eyes off the stage during the entirety of the three hour show.

the stadium’s alive with roaring fans, the energy palpable in the thrumming air as each note reverberated like an echo. the eagerness in your throat nearly suffocates you. with every passing song, you could feel yourself growing more and more nervous, increasingly unsure of how beomgyu will react. despite sitting somewhat close to the stage, he has yet to acknowledge that he’s seen or recognized you.

beomgyu’s eyes briefly meet yours during one of the ments when he’s scanning through your section. his gaze pauses on you for just a moment longer, enough to let you see the brief flicker of shock on his unassuming face, before he schools himself and moves on to fans that are seated higher up. but you still manage to catch his gaze on you every now and then throughout the remainder of the show, fleeting and brief, yet progressively more incessant as everything draws to a close.

you swear you see him mouth something at you, but then confetti’s being blast out and you’re drowning in the screams around you. admittedly, the hardest part is waiting for the venue to begin emptying out, enough so that you can find a trusted staff member and be escorted backstage. you’re unsure of how long after the show it’s been when you can finally slip away to see beomgyu, but it’s all forgotten in the past when you turn into a room and see him staring back at you, this time unabashedly.

everything around you bleeds into hazy, distant nothingness as you run forward to close the gap between you two. beomgyu’s arms encircle you like a lifeline, pressing you into his chest with a measured tenderness. he’s warm and firm and familiar, and as he tucks himself into your shoulder, you feel like you can finally breathe again.

“i can’t believe you made it,” he mumbles against your neck, hold tightening around your waist. he’s sweaty all along the front, shirt practically drenched through after hours of performing, but all you can think about is the fact that he’s finally here. not on a screen. not in your fleeting thoughts throughout the day.

“airplanes are a crazy invention,” you joke breathlessly.

beomgyu laughs wetly from where he’s nuzzling your collarbones, seemingly intent on getting as close as physically possible to you. your own hand raises to card itself through his damp locks, untangling them where they’ve gone unruly from his dancing. you almost feel awkward with the mill of staff around you, but they look too busy tending to the clean-up process to even worry about the two of you huddling in the middle of it all.

“you two are so cute,” you hear from behind you, and as you crane your neck to meet taehyun’s genuine eyes, you flush.

stepping back from the hug, you feel beomgyu’s calloused palms move to cup your cheeks, gently cradling your face with a tenderness so raw it nearly hurts. he’s looking at you with such intent, almost as if in belief that you’re real and in front of him, and you resist to rock forward on your toes and kiss him square on the mouth. his thumbs smooth over your damp cheeks, and you realize with a start that you’ve been crying.

as the room continues to crowd with more staff filtering in, beomgyu takes the initiative to pull you into one of the more secluded corners of the lounge for some semblance of privacy. you lean back against the wall and peer up at him through your lashes, studying the way the glitter of his makeup catches the light. he’s even more beautiful up close, impossibly ethereal, and your heart aches at the thought of leaving him again.

the rest of the members seem to have also taken note of your presence, judging by kai’s excited holler from the doorway, and you preen under their attention when they crowd into your corner. beomgyu makes a noise of complaint when they circle around you, but the frown on his face doesn’t last long as he watches you hug the rest of his bandmates. they’re all still dressed in their stage outfits, equally sweaty and noticeably exhausted, and yet they greet you with such heartfelt enthusiasm that you feel yourself go warm all over.

“no way, you didn’t tell us you were coming!” soobin pulls back from smothering you to look you over, gasping when he notices the tour shirt you’d slipped on over your outfit. “you’re wearing the one beomgyu sent you! oh, i hate couples. i’m going to be sick–”

soobin breaks off, pretending to gag, and you swat at him with a smile so wide that hurts your cheeks.

“we’ve missed you so much,” kai continues earnestly, grinning impishly, “probably more than gyu, if we’re being honest.”

“careful, i know where you’re sleeping tonight,” your boyfriend grumbles, sticking his tongue out at the both of them as he scoots into your side, wrapping his arm around your waist.

“so do i? we’re literally staying on the same floor…”

“at this point, can’t we just ask manager-nim to get an extra room at our hotel for you?” yeonjun’s question is innocent, but it makes you go warm all over. partly from excitement, partly from embarrassment.

“no way, your manager’s done already done so much for me.” that was an understatement. he’d been more than understanding when you’d first brought the idea up to him, been too kind and patient in sorting out details and ruling out alternatives. he’d pulled too many strings to secure you a spot at the show, backstage even, that it felt outright inconsiderate to ask for more. you’d gotten to see beomgyu shining from afar, gotten to see him sweaty and tired and soft between your arms.

it was enough, no matter how selfish you wanted to be.

“it’s okay,” a deeper voice cuts you off before you can continue, and you back up into beomgyu in surprise. their manager laughs good-naturedly at your shock, moving in between the members and reaching out to shake your hand in greeting.

“it’s okay?” you squeak, meeting his hand tentatively.

“i appreciate your consideration,” he nods, turning to pat beomgyu on the back. “the boys have all worked really hard on this tour. it’s the last stop, and they have a long flight back to korea tomorrow. what’s one night of celebration? you’ll have to take a separate car and follow extra protocol, but it won’t be anything our team can’t handle. beomgyu, think of this as my congratulation to you for a successful tour.”

“if beomgyu gets to be with his partner, i want in-n-out,” soobin pouts, and everyone in the circle breaks off into laughter. yeonjun seconds this with a raise of his hand, and you watch with amusement as kai and taehyun quickly follow suit.

“thank you,” beomgyu whispers to his manager, smile sincere and flustered. his hold on your hand tightens, and you look over at him to share a knowing look.

the anxiousness at the back of your mind doesn’t disappear as beomgyu and the rest of the members go through the motions of warming down and preparing to leave. you’re instructed to wait on one of the empty couches in the corner, leg bouncing restlessly as you watch your boyfriend disappear down the hall, presumably to change into something with less frills and gems.

outside, you can still hear the hum of excitement from the venue, though considerably scaled down from what you remember it being during the show. your heart squeezes with pride at the thought of how far they’d all come– sold out venues with capacities the size of small towns. an achievement so deserving, and yet once unfathomable to the entire group.

beomgyu returns clad in sweatpants and a loose shirt, face wiped clean of highlights and glitters. he seems almost bashful as he approaches you, looking around with a shy quirk to his mouth as he comes to back you up against the corner. you know what’s coming before he even leans in to peck you, know from the determination in his eyes that this isn’t the last you’ll be seeing of him like this tonight.

“ready to head out?” he asks once he pulls back, reaching for your hand with a smirk playing at his lips. your fingers comfortably slip between his, and as you make your way out after the staff, you clear your throat and try to hide the blush on your cheeks.

“i also want in-n-out,” you say.

your boyfriend’s answering laugh is loud and fond, and it rings down the hallway like peals of bells. he leans into your side, nudging you with his shoulder, and you note that he still smells like the body wash you have at home.

“almost sounds like you’re more excited for the food than to spend time alone with me,” he pouts.

flicking him on the forehead, both of you pause before a set of doors, ones you assume lead to the exterior of the building. you know his manager isn’t far behind you, and after being briefed on the measures you’d have to adhere to once outside, you think it’s best you stick by a familiar face. the security milling around should have you feeling more on edge, but beomgyu’s secure hold on your hand is enough to make you forget all about the predicament.

“i’ll see you at the hotel,” he promises.

there’s a crowd of staff forming behind you, commotion rising in the hallway as the team prepares to leave. you look at the flutter of beomgyu’s lashes as he looks up at them, then back at you, and you hum quietly when he begins to let go of you hand.

“with in-n-out?”