Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The news came through an email late in the afternoon.

Riku had just returned from practice, his body aching but his mind still sharp with focus. He grabbed a towel to wipe the sweat from his neck before sinking onto the couch, pulling out his phone. The moment he saw the email from the national team’s management, his heart skipped.

This was it. The final selection matches were coming up.

He tapped the screen, eyes scanning the words quickly. Then, his excitement faded.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the final selection matches have been postponed for another four weeks.

Riku stared at the message, reading it again just to be sure. His jaw clenched. He had worked so hard for this moment, carefully pacing his training so he would peak at the perfect time. And now—four more weeks. His momentum was thrown off, his focus stretched thin.

A soft thud caught his attention as Jelly, their Shiba Inu, hopped onto the couch beside him. She circled once before plopping down, pressing her small, warm body against his thigh. Riku absently scratched behind her ears, sighing deeply.

The front door clicked open. "I'm home," Daeyoung's voice rang out, clear and familiar.

Riku didn’t move from his spot. “Hey.” His voice lacked its usual energy.

Daeyoung, immediately sensing something was off, walked into the living room, slipping off his coat. His eyes flickered from Riku’s expression to the phone in his hand. Without a word, he sat down beside him.

“What’s wrong?”

Riku handed over his phone. Daeyoung took it, quickly reading through the email. His brows lifted slightly, then his expression softened in understanding.

“The matches got pushed back?”

“Yeah. Four weeks.” Riku ran a hand through his damp hair, frustration settling in his gut. “I know it’s not their fault, but I was ready, Daeyoung. I worked my ass off to be at my peak for this. Now I have to maintain everything for another month without overdoing it.”

Daeyoung hummed in thought. Instead of answering right away, he set Riku’s phone aside and leaned in, pressing his fingers into Riku’s shoulders, working out the tension.

Riku exhaled, his body instinctively relaxing under Daeyoung’s touch. Jelly, sensing the shift in mood, lifted her head and let out a small yawn before stretching her paws against Riku’s leg.

“You’re frustrated because your rhythm got interrupted,” Daeyoung murmured, kneading slow circles into his back. “But this isn’t a setback, it’s an opportunity.”

Riku let out a humorless chuckle. “You make it sound so easy.”

Daeyoung nudged him, pulling him slightly closer. “Think of it this way,” he said, lips brushing against Riku’s temple. “You have more time to refine your game. More time to recover, sharpen your skills. And…” He smirked. “More time to spend with me.”

Riku huffed a laugh, shaking his head. Jelly took this as her cue to climb onto his lap, curling into a warm little ball. Riku absentmindedly ran a hand down her back, feeling his frustration ease just a little.

Daeyoung shifted, brushing Riku’s hair away from his forehead before pressing a slow, lingering kiss there. “Four weeks won’t change the fact that you’re good enough,” he said softly. “If anything, it’s a chance to be even better.”

Riku turned his head slightly, their gazes meeting. Daeyoung’s dark eyes held nothing but quiet confidence—the kind that always made Riku believe in himself, even when doubt tried to creep in.

“You always know what to say, huh?” Riku muttered, lips curling into a lopsided smile.

Daeyoung shrugged. “It’s my job as your husband.”

Riku leaned in, capturing Daeyoung’s lips in a slow, deep kiss. Daeyoung melted into it, his hand coming up to rest against Riku’s jaw, fingers tracing light patterns against his skin. They stayed like that for a few moments, lost in each other, until a tiny, annoyed yip broke them apart.

Jelly, still nestled on Riku’s lap, was staring up at them with sleepy but disapproving eyes.

Daeyoung chuckled. “Jealous?”

Riku grinned, scratching under Jelly’s chin. “Alright, alright. You get kisses too.” He pressed a playful kiss to the top of her head, earning a pleased little huff from the dog.

Daeyoung shook his head fondly, standing up and stretching. “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you into the shower before you stink up the whole house.”

Riku groaned but reluctantly stood, carefully shifting Jelly off his lap. “You’re so mean to me.”

Daeyoung smirked. “You’ll survive.”

As Riku trudged toward the bathroom, Daeyoung watched him go, shaking his head with a smile.

Four weeks was a long time. But with Riku’s determination, and the quiet support of both his husband and their tiny, opinionated dog, he knew they’d make the most of it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The days passed in a comfortable rhythm.

With the Olympic selection matches delayed, Riku settled into a routine that felt both familiar and foreign—light training sessions to keep his body in shape, early morning runs with Jelly, and uninterrupted evenings with Daeyoung. It had been a while since they had this much free time together, and Riku was determined to make the most of it.

Their mornings were slow and peaceful. Riku would wake first, stretching lazily before rolling over to find Daeyoung still fast asleep, his dark hair tousled against the pillow. On some mornings, he let him sleep, taking Jelly out for a quick run before returning to the smell of breakfast cooking in their kitchen. On others, he would nuzzle closer, pressing lazy kisses to Daeyoung’s shoulder until he stirred with a soft grumble of protest.

Their evenings were spent curled up on the couch, watching movies or listening to music. Sometimes, Riku would drag Daeyoung out for a casual dinner, enjoying the quiet moments of conversation over warm bowls of ramen or carefully plated dishes at one of their favorite restaurants. Everything was comfortable, familiar, and peaceful.

But even in that peace, Riku couldn’t ignore the nagging feeling in the back of his mind.

Daeyoung was acting strange.

It was nothing obvious at first—just little things. A distant look in his eyes when he thought Riku wasn’t watching. Hesitation in his voice when Riku asked about his day at the symphony. A faint crease in his brow as if something was weighing on him.

At night, when they lay together in bed, Riku would catch Daeyoung staring at the ceiling, lost in thought. When asked, he would always brush it off with a small smile and a quiet, “It’s nothing.”

But Riku knew him too well.

Something was on his mind.

At first, Riku let it be, thinking Daeyoung would tell him when he was ready. But as the days passed, the unease only grew.

Then, one night, Riku decided enough was enough.

As Daeyoung slid into bed beside him, Riku moved quickly—flipping over and pinning him down beneath him. Daeyoung let out a startled breath, his hands coming up to Riku’s waist as he blinked up at him.

Riku didn’t say anything at first, just studied him in the dim light of their bedroom. His husband’s face was calm, but there was something hidden beneath the surface—something he had been holding back.

“You’ve been acting weird,” Riku finally said, his voice quiet but firm. He could feel the steady rise and fall of Daeyoung’s chest beneath him. “Tell me what’s going on.”

Daeyoung hesitated, his hands tightening slightly against Riku’s waist. For a moment, Riku thought he might try to deflect again, but after a long silence, Daeyoung sighed.

“I was approached by a scouting agent.”

Riku blinked, momentarily thrown. That was the last thing he had expected.

“A scouting agent?” he repeated, tilting his head. “For what?”

Daeyoung exhaled slowly. His hands slid from Riku’s waist to rest against his back, tracing idle patterns.

“They asked if I wanted to audition to be a musical actor,” he said quietly.

Riku froze.

Of all the possibilities that had been running through his mind, this was not one of them.

“A musical actor?” he echoed. “As in—singing?”

Daeyoung nodded, his gaze flickering away for a brief moment as if embarrassed.

Riku processed the words slowly. In all their time together, he had never once heard Daeyoung sing. Sure, he had seen him at the piano countless times, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the keys, his expression serene and focused. But singing? That was something new.

“I don’t get it,” Riku said after a pause. “I’ve never even heard you sing before.”

Daeyoung let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “That’s what you think.”

Riku frowned, confused. “Wait—what?”

Daeyoung shifted slightly beneath him, his expression thoughtful. “Sometimes, at work, I mess around. I sing while I’m practicing or during breaks. I never thought much of it, but apparently, word got around. Someone must have said something because a scouting agent showed up at one of our rehearsals and asked to meet with me afterward.”

Riku stared at him, stunned.

Daeyoung—the same Daeyoung who was always so reserved, who rarely sought the spotlight—had been singing at work, and people had noticed? Enough to get scouted?

Riku leaned back slightly, still straddling Daeyoung’s waist as he tried to wrap his head around it. “And why didn’t you tell me?”

Daeyoung’s gaze softened. “Because I wasn’t sure if I should even consider it. My whole life has been piano, Riku. I never thought about doing anything else. What if I’m not good enough?”

Riku scoffed, shaking his head. “Daeyoung, someone literally sought you out because of your voice. You think they do that for people who aren’t good enough?”

Daeyoung chuckled, his fingers tracing slow circles against Riku’s back. “You say that without even hearing me sing.”

Riku smirked. “Then sing for me.”

Daeyoung blinked. “Right now?”

“Yes, right now,” Riku insisted, leaning in closer, their faces mere centimeters apart. “I can’t believe I’ve been married to you for two years, and I’ve never heard you sing. That feels illegal.”

Daeyoung let out a soft laugh, his expression a mix of amusement and exasperation. Then, after a pause, he sighed softly.

And then—he sang.

The melody was quiet, almost hesitant at first, but as Daeyoung continued, his voice steadied. The rich, velvety notes filled the space between them, smooth and controlled, effortlessly weaving through the air.

Riku felt his breath catch.

He had expected Daeyoung to be good—everything he did was precise, disciplined, naturally graceful. But this? This was something else entirely.

The warmth in Daeyoung’s tone, the way his voice wrapped around each note—it was mesmerizing.

Riku’s grip on Daeyoung’s shoulders tightened. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until Daeyoung stopped singing, his dark eyes searching Riku’s face for a reaction.

Riku exhaled sharply. “Holy shit.”

Daeyoung raised an eyebrow. “That’s your professional opinion?”

“Yes,” Riku breathed. “What the hell, Daeyoung? You’re incredible.”

Daeyoung looked away, the faintest hint of pink dusting his cheeks.

Riku grinned, shaking his head in disbelief. “You have to audition.”

Daeyoung hesitated, his fingers tightening against Riku’s back. “…You really think so?”

Riku leaned down, brushing his lips softly against Daeyoung’s. “I know so.”

Daeyoung stared at him for a long moment before, finally, a small, knowing smile pulled at his lips.

“Alright,” he murmured. “I’ll do it.”

Riku grinned against his mouth, sealing the decision with a deep, lingering kiss.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The warm glow of the afternoon sun spilled through the windows of their home, casting soft golden hues across the living room. It was a peaceful sight—Riku lounging lazily on the couch with Jelly curled up beside him, her fluffy tail twitching slightly as she dozed. The rhythmic sound of Daeyoung’s voice, smooth yet carefully enunciated, filled the space as he spoke on the phone at the dining table.

Riku wasn’t exactly eavesdropping, but it was hard not to listen when Daeyoung was speaking so fluently in Japanese now. It was a stark contrast to when they had first met—now, his words flowed naturally, and Riku found himself smiling at how far he had come.

Daeyoung nodded, jotting something down in his planner with precise strokes of his pen. 

As he ended the call, he let out a small exhale, closing his planner before rubbing his temples.

“That was the final confirmation,” he said, his voice steady but carrying the weight of the moment. “My audition is in three days.”

Riku raised a brow, rolling onto his side and propping himself up on one elbow. “Three days?”

Daeyoung hummed in response, flipping through his planner. “I still need to pick a song. And practice. A lot.”

Riku pushed himself up from the couch and strolled over, stopping behind Daeyoung’s chair. Without hesitation, he reached down, threading his fingers through Daeyoung’s dark hair, massaging gently at his scalp. The tension in Daeyoung’s shoulders melted almost immediately, and he let out a soft sigh, leaning slightly into Riku’s touch.

“You’re stressing,” Riku murmured, his fingers moving in slow, soothing circles.

“It’s a big opportunity,” Daeyoung admitted, closing his eyes for a brief moment. “And I haven’t performed vocally in a formal setting before.”

Riku smirked, twisting a lock of Daeyoung’s hair around his finger before letting it fall back into place. “You play in front of an audience all the time. Singing’s not that different.”

Daeyoung scoffed lightly, though his body remained relaxed. “You make it sound so easy.”

Riku leaned down, brushing a kiss against the top of his head. “Because it is—for you. You’re incredible at everything you do.”

A faint blush crept up Daeyoung’s neck, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he turned his head slightly, catching Riku’s gaze.

“You’re just flattering me now,” he murmured.

Riku grinned, sliding his hands down to Daeyoung’s shoulders before coming around to the front of Daeyoung’s chair. His fingers traced small, absentminded patterns over Daeyoung’s arms. “Maybe. Or maybe I just know exactly how talented my husband is.”

Daeyoung huffed out a small laugh, shaking his head. Before he could protest further, Riku leaned in, tilting his chin up slightly before pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to his lips. It started gentle, a quiet reassurance, but Riku wasn’t one to leave things at just that. His fingers slid down to Daeyoung’s hands, intertwining them as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving with practiced ease.

Daeyoung let out a soft noise of surprise, but he didn’t resist. Instead, he melted into it, his fingers tightening slightly around Riku’s. When Riku finally pulled away, his eyes sparkled with mischief as he placed a few more playful pecks against Daeyoung’s lips, grinning in between.

“You’re impossible,” Daeyoung murmured, though the way he looked at Riku said otherwise.

“Maybe,” Riku admitted with a shrug. “But I’m also your number one supporter.” He tapped Daeyoung’s nose lightly before standing up, stretching his arms above his head. “Alright, we need to start planning. Three days isn’t long, and I plan to make sure you walk into that audition ready to blow them away.”

Daeyoung sighed, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “I appreciate the enthusiasm,” he said, shaking his head. “But I don’t even know what song I’m going to sing.”

“Then let’s pick one,” Riku declared, reaching for Daeyoung’s hand and tugging him toward the couch. Jelly, sensing the shift in attention, stretched before hopping off and trotting after them, her tail wagging.

As they settled onto the couch, Daeyoung pulled out his phone, scrolling through possible pieces. Riku rested his chin on Daeyoung’s shoulder, occasionally glancing at the titles. “Ooh, what about something romantic?”

Daeyoung shot him a look. “It’s an audition, not a date.”

“Still,” Riku teased, placing another quick kiss to his cheek. “Wouldn’t hurt to make the judges fall in love with you too.”

Daeyoung shook his head fondly, but Riku could see the subtle shift in his expression—less worry, more amusement. That was enough for now.

With Jelly curled up at their feet and Daeyoung finally starting to relax, Riku knew they were on the right track. He would make sure of it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The rhythmic squeak of sneakers against the polished wooden floor echoed through the gymnasium as Riku moved with precision, his body already warm from the morning’s drills. The air smelled of sweat and determination, the kind of scent that filled every sports facility where athletes pushed their limits. He wasn't alone—several of his teammates, all with the same goal of making the Olympic team, were practicing alongside him.

It was a focused environment. Everyone was here for the same reason. No distractions. No wasted energy. Just pure, raw effort.

And yet…

Riku found his mind wandering.

His body moved on instinct—jump, spike, land, repeat—but his thoughts drifted elsewhere, back to the night before.

Daeyoung had been in their music room, his laptop open with sheet music scattered around, earbuds plugged in as he worked through his audition piece. But this wasn’t just Daeyoung playing piano, something Riku was used to seeing almost every day. This was different.

A musical actor had to do more than just sing; they had to embody emotion, live the song, become the character. And Daeyoung, always the perfectionist, had thrown himself into it completely.

Riku had watched from the couch, pretending to scroll through his phone while secretly observing his husband as he practiced.

At first, Daeyoung had simply sung—his voice deep and smooth, filling the room with something that made Riku’s chest feel tight in the best way. But then, he’d started adding movement, expression, letting the music guide him. His brows furrowed in certain moments, his gestures growing more fluid and expressive, his voice laced with emotion so raw that Riku could feel it even without knowing the lyrics.

Riku had seen Daeyoung play piano with passion before, but this? This was something else.

He had been so mesmerized that he barely noticed how long he had been watching.

That memory stuck with him now, even as he leapt into the air, his arm swinging down in a perfectly executed spike that sent the ball slamming into the opposing side of the court.

A sharp whistle sounded, snapping Riku back to reality.

“Damn, man.” One of his teammates gave him a lopsided grin as he retrieved the ball. “You’re playing like you’ve got something to prove today.”

Riku exhaled, running a hand through his damp hair. “Guess I just have a lot on my mind.”

His teammate tossed him the ball. “You’re usually locked in during practice, but today, you look like you’re thinking about something else.”

Riku let out a small chuckle, bouncing the ball a few times before gripping it tightly. “Maybe I am.”

He shook off his distraction and got back into position. The Olympic selection matches were only a few weeks away, and he couldn’t afford to let his focus slip.

Still, as he prepared for the next drill, he couldn’t shake the thought of Daeyoung’s voice, his expressions, the way he poured his entire heart into his craft.

It was inspiring.

And maybe, just maybe, a little bit distracting.

Riku wiped the sweat from his brow, exhaling sharply as he leaned against the gym wall. His body was tired from the morning’s intense drills, but his mind was anything but exhausted. If anything, it was running wild with thoughts he couldn’t quite shake.

No matter how hard he tried to focus on volleyball, his thoughts kept circling back to Daeyoung.

And the creeping jealousy that had begun to settle in his chest.

He had always known Daeyoung was talented—his skill at the piano was undeniable—but now, with this audition, another side of him was being revealed. A side that Riku had never even known existed. His voice, rich and powerful, carried emotions in a way that sent chills down Riku’s spine.

And soon, more people would hear it.

More people would see him in a different light, witness him pour his heart into something new.

More people would stand in awe of him, the way Riku always had.

The thought made his grip tighten around his water bottle.

For so long, Riku had felt like he had a piece of Daeyoung all to himself. The way he would hum softly while making coffee, the way he played piano late at night with only Riku there to hear, the way he murmured in his sleep when he was particularly exhausted.

And now, strangers would be seeing a version of Daeyoung that even Riku had only recently discovered.

He tried to shake the feeling off, but it lingered as he finished his cooldown stretches, muscles aching in protest. By the time he made his way to the locker room, his mind was still caught in the endless loop of jealousy and frustration.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want Daeyoung to succeed. Of course he did. He wanted him to shine, to be recognized for his talent.

But the irrational part of him—the selfish part—wanted to keep Daeyoung’s voice as something only he knew, only he had the privilege of hearing.

Riku scoffed at himself as he turned on the shower, letting the hot water pound against his tense shoulders.

He was being ridiculous.

Daeyoung wasn’t going anywhere. This wasn’t some threat to their relationship.

And yet, he couldn’t stop the tightness in his chest.

Sighing, he ran a hand through his damp hair.

Maybe he just needed to hear Daeyoung sing again.

Just for him.

That would make him feel better, right?

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The evening air was cool when Riku finally stepped through the front door, kicking off his sneakers with a tired sigh. The weight of practice still lingered in his muscles, but it wasn’t exhaustion that occupied his mind—it was the nagging, ridiculous jealousy that had taken root in his chest.

He knew he was being irrational. He knew Daeyoung’s audition was an incredible opportunity, something he should be fully supportive of. And he was supportive. But still… the thought of other people hearing Daeyoung sing, witnessing the passion in his voice, the way his body moved with emotion as he performed—Riku scowled to himself.

Shaking off the thought, he wandered into the living room, immediately spotting Daeyoung lounging on the couch, completely absorbed in sheet music spread across his lap.

The soft glow of the nearby lamp cast a warm hue over the room, and Riku felt his heart squeeze at how effortlessly beautiful Daeyoung looked like this—relaxed, focused, completely in his element.

Without thinking, Riku strode over and, in one smooth motion, flopped onto the couch—right onto Daeyoung’s lap.

A small oof left Daeyoung’s lips as he steadied himself, barely managing to keep his sheet music from scattering everywhere. His hands instinctively moved to rest against Riku’s waist, as if this were something that happened on a daily basis.

Which, to be fair, it kind of was.

Daeyoung let out an amused sigh, tilting his head slightly as he peered down at Riku, who had comfortably nestled against him, his face now half-buried in Daeyoung’s chest. “You do realize that out of all the available spots in this house, you always end up in this exact place, right?”

Riku shifted slightly but refused to meet Daeyoung’s gaze. His cheeks tinged pink. “...No, I don’t.”

Daeyoung chuckled, one hand drifting to Riku’s hair, fingers threading through the damp strands. “You’re not even trying to deny it properly.”

Riku huffed but didn’t move away. Instead, he melted further into Daeyoung’s warmth, letting out a small, content sigh. The weight of the day, of his lingering jealousy, of everything else—somehow, it all felt a little lighter when he was here.

Daeyoung hummed softly, his fingers continuing their lazy pattern in Riku’s hair. “Tough practice?”

Riku nodded against him. “Yeah.” He hesitated, then muttered, “And… I kept thinking about you. And your audition.”

Daeyoung’s hand paused for a brief second before resuming its slow, soothing movements. “Nervous for me?”

Riku shifted, his arms loosely wrapping around Daeyoung. “Something like that.”

He didn’t say jealous . He didn’t say bothered . But he knew Daeyoung was perceptive enough to read between the lines.

For a moment, there was only the sound of Daeyoung’s steady breathing, the occasional rustle of paper as his other hand idly flipped through his sheet music. Then, softly, he murmured, “You know, no matter how many people hear me sing, no matter how many people are in the audience… you’ll always be the one I care about most.”

Riku stiffened slightly before lifting his head, meeting Daeyoung’s gaze at last. His heart clenched at the sincerity in those dark eyes.

And just like that, the jealousy that had been gnawing at him all day suddenly felt foolish.

Daeyoung was his. His husband. His home.

And nothing—no audience, no audition, no stage—could change that.

Feeling a little ridiculous but infinitely lighter, Riku huffed and buried his face in Daeyoung’s chest again. “...I still think my favorite seat in the house is your lap.”

Daeyoung laughed, the sound deep and full of warmth. “Yeah, I figured.”

And with that, he tightened his arms around Riku, holding him close, as if to remind him that he would always belong here.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The sun had barely begun to rise, but Riku was already in the kitchen, determined to make this day perfect. The smell of freshly brewed coffee filled the air as he set the table with Daeyoung’s favorites. It was a simple but comforting meal, one that would hopefully ease any nerves Daeyoung had about his audition today.

Riku moved swiftly, plating everything neatly before stepping back to admire his work. Satisfied, he wiped his hands on a dish towel and glanced at the clock. It was still early, but he figured it was time to wake up his husband.

Padding softly across the house, Riku slipped into their bedroom, the sight before him bringing an immediate warmth to his chest.

Daeyoung was still sound asleep, his dark hair a mess against the pillows, his face relaxed in deep slumber. He looked peaceful, his breathing slow and steady, one arm lazily draped over Riku’s pillow. Jelly was curled up at the foot of the bed, her ears twitching slightly at Riku’s quiet footsteps.

For a moment, Riku just stood there, taking in the scene.

Then, with a mischievous smirk, he slipped under the blankets and pressed himself close to Daeyoung’s warm body.

He started slow, brushing his lips lightly over Daeyoung’s cheek before moving to his jawline, leaving a trail of feathery kisses. A quiet hum escaped Daeyoung’s lips, his brows knitting slightly as he stirred but didn’t wake fully.

Riku grinned. He wasn’t done yet.

Moving lower, he pressed a kiss to the soft skin just below Daeyoung’s ear, then another along his collarbone. His hand came up to brush Daeyoung’s hair back, exposing more of his neck, which Riku eagerly kissed next.

A deep sigh left Daeyoung’s lips, and finally, his lashes fluttered open. His voice was thick with sleep as he mumbled, “What… are you doing?”

Riku pulled back just enough to meet his husband’s bleary gaze, his lips curved into a playful smirk. “Waking you up, obviously.”

Daeyoung let out a groggy chuckle, reaching up to lazily cup Riku’s cheek. “You’re too much.”

“And yet, you love me anyway.” Riku kissed him properly this time, slow and lingering, savoring the way Daeyoung responded despite still being half-asleep.

When he finally pulled away, Daeyoung let out a small huff, eyes still half-lidded. “What time is it?”

“Still early,” Riku murmured, running his fingers through Daeyoung’s hair. “But I made breakfast. Thought you’d want to eat before your big audition.”

That seemed to wake Daeyoung up fully. He blinked at Riku before smiling softly. “You woke up early just to cook?”

Riku scoffed, nuzzling into Daeyoung’s neck. “Of course I did. You think I wouldn’t take care of my husband on his important day?”

Daeyoung hummed in appreciation, pulling Riku even closer. “You’re ridiculous,” he murmured, lips brushing against Riku’s temple. “But thank you.”

Riku grinned against his skin. “Now get up before the food gets cold.”

Daeyoung groaned but finally started moving, stretching his arms before sitting up. Riku followed suit, watching fondly as Daeyoung rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

Jelly, sensing movement, finally perked up from the foot of the bed, wagging her tail as she hopped over to nuzzle against Daeyoung’s side.

With his husband finally awake and breakfast waiting, Riku felt satisfied. Today was going to be perfect—he would make sure of it.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The scent of fresh coffee and the faint remnants of breakfast lingered in the air, mixing with the subtle, familiar fragrance of Daeyoung’s cologne. Outside, the city was just beginning to stir, but inside their home, time seemed to move at its own leisurely pace.

Jelly lay curled up in her dog bed near the corner of the room, letting out a content sigh as she stretched her paws. She had already been on her morning run with Riku and was now happily dozing, only occasionally thumping her tail against the floor when she caught the sound of her owners’ voices.

Riku leaned against the doorframe of their walk-in closet, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Daeyoung flip through his shirts. The sight before him was almost distracting—his husband stood in nothing but his black dress pants, his toned upper body still bare as he examined his options. The way the morning light kissed his skin, tracing over the lines of his muscles and the curve of his shoulders, made Riku momentarily forget the purpose of choosing an outfit altogether.

Daeyoung held up two shirts, one deep navy and the other a crisp white. He furrowed his brows slightly, scrutinizing both as if the decision held the weight of the world. “What do you think?” he asked, turning to Riku. “Navy or white?”

Riku tilted his head, pretending to consider. “Depends,” he mused, pushing off the doorframe and stepping closer. “Do you want to look devastatingly handsome or heartbreakingly elegant?”

Daeyoung sighed, clearly unimpressed with the response. “That’s not helping.”

Riku grinned, reaching out to take the white shirt from Daeyoung’s hand. Instead of inspecting it properly, he let his fingers skim over the fabric before his gaze drifted back to Daeyoung’s bare skin. His hands, as if moving on their own, traced lightly along Daeyoung’s collarbone, his fingertips brushing over warm skin.

“Honestly,” Riku murmured, voice lower now, “I don’t think it matters. You could walk in wearing a paper bag, and you’d still look like you belong on stage.”

Daeyoung huffed a small laugh, shaking his head as he looked away. “Flattery isn’t going to make this decision for me.”

Riku smirked. “I think you’re underestimating how persuasive I can be.”

Daeyoung shot him a knowing glance. “And where exactly are you going with this?”

Instead of answering, Riku leaned in and pressed a slow, deliberate kiss against Daeyoung’s chest. The touch was light at first, just the faintest brush of lips against skin, but he lingered, letting the warmth of the moment settle between them. He felt the way Daeyoung’s muscles tensed slightly before melting, the subtle intake of breath, the way his heartbeat thrummed just a little quicker beneath Riku’s lips.

Riku pulled back just enough to murmur against his skin, “Right here.”

Daeyoung exhaled softly, a mix of exasperation and amusement, but he didn’t move away. Instead, he simply let out a small sigh, as if surrendering to the inevitable. “You’re flirting too much.”

“And you still put up with me,” Riku said smugly.

Daeyoung rolled his eyes, but the faint pink dusting his ears betrayed him. Without further comment, he slipped on the white shirt, buttoning it up with practiced ease. The contrast between the crisp fabric and his dark hair only made him look even more refined—effortlessly captivating.

Riku took a step back, letting his eyes roam over his husband in quiet admiration. Then he let out a low whistle. “Yeah, you’re definitely going to steal the show.”

Daeyoung adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves before glancing at Riku with a raised brow. “Let’s hope so.”

Riku stepped forward once more, reaching up to straighten Daeyoung’s collar. His touch lingered, his fingers brushing just briefly against the skin of Daeyoung’s neck before he leaned in to press one more lingering kiss to his lips. It was a silent promise—a reminder that no matter where this audition took Daeyoung, Riku would always be right here, cheering him on.

“You’ve got this,” Riku murmured against his lips.

And with that, they were ready to face the day.

Daeyoung, as always, took the driver’s seat. Riku never minded—his husband was a naturally good driver, and it gave Riku the chance to watch him when he wasn’t looking.

The car ride started in silence, the hum of the engine the only noise filling the space between them. Daeyoung’s fingers tapped an uneven rhythm against the steering wheel, his thumb brushing absentmindedly over the leather. His knuckles flexed slightly every few beats, betraying his nervousness despite his otherwise calm expression.

Riku noticed everything—the slight furrow of his brows, the way he exhaled a little longer than necessary, the way his foot hesitated on the gas for just a fraction of a second.

“Are you nervous?” Riku asked, breaking the silence as he turned in his seat to face him fully.

Daeyoung didn’t answer immediately. His eyes remained on the road, his fingers still drumming against the wheel. Finally, he exhaled softly. “A little.”

Riku smirked, reaching over to cover Daeyoung’s hand with his own, stilling his tapping fingers. “You’ll be fine,” he said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. “You’ve been working hard for this.”

Daeyoung stole a quick glance at him before returning his gaze to the road. “It’s not just the audition,” he admitted. “It’s… everything. It’s been so long since I’ve done something this different. Performing in front of people is one thing when I’m at the piano, but singing? It feels… more vulnerable, somehow.”

Riku tilted his head, considering his words. “Because it’s your voice?”

“Maybe.” Daeyoung sighed, gripping the wheel a little tighter. “With the piano, I can hide behind the music. But with singing, it’s just… me.”

Riku understood that. Daeyoung wasn’t the type to seek attention—he was passionate, yes, but he had always been reserved about it, sharing his love for music through his hands rather than his voice. That was why Riku had been so shocked when he first heard him sing. It had been like discovering an entirely new side of his husband—one that had been quietly waiting to be unveiled.

“You’re going to be great,” Riku said, his voice steady. “They’re going to love you. And if they don’t, they’re idiots.”

That earned him a small chuckle from Daeyoung, though it was brief. The nerves were still there, clinging to the edges of his usually composed demeanor.

As they approached the music hall, the streets became quieter, the buildings growing more grand and historic. The venue was private—only those auditioning and the casting directors were allowed inside.

Daeyoung pulled into a designated parking spot, turning off the engine. He let out a slow breath, gripping the wheel for a moment longer before finally turning to look at Riku.

“This is it,” he murmured.

Riku reached over and smoothed his hand over Daeyoung’s thigh in a reassuring motion. “This is it,” he echoed, his tone softer now. “And you’ve got this.”

Daeyoung’s lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say something more, but instead, he leaned in and pressed a quick, firm kiss to Riku’s lips. “I’ll see you after?”

Riku nodded. “I’ll be right here.”

With that, Daeyoung gathered his things, squared his shoulders, and stepped out of the car. Riku watched as he walked toward the entrance, his posture straight but his hands curled slightly at his sides.

The door closed behind him, and Riku exhaled, leaning back in his seat.

Now all he could do was wait.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Riku leaned back in his seat, tapping his fingers against his knee as he stared out the windshield. The minutes stretched longer than they should have, each second ticking by like an eternity.

He wasn’t usually the type to get nervous over something that wasn’t his own game, but this—this was different.

Daeyoung was inside that building, standing in front of people who had likely spent years, maybe even decades, honing their craft. People with extensive stage experience, powerful voices, and an understanding of performance that went beyond just singing.

And Daeyoung?

He was pure, raw talent.

It wasn’t that Riku doubted him—he had heard firsthand how incredible his husband’s voice was. But this world was new to Daeyoung, uncharted territory. It was one thing to mess around in a symphony hall with colleagues who admired his voice; it was another to be thrown into a professional audition with trained performers.

What if they didn’t see what Riku saw?

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling through his nose. No, that wasn’t possible. Someone had scouted Daeyoung, which meant they already saw something in him. It wasn’t just a whim. There was real potential there—potential that Riku himself had only recently discovered.

Still, that didn’t stop his stomach from twisting in anticipation.

To distract himself, he pulled out his phone, scrolling through messages from his teammates. They were mostly talking about training schedules, a few memes thrown in between, but Riku barely paid attention. His mind kept drifting back to Daeyoung.

He checked the time. Almost two hours had passed.

The tension in his chest grew heavier.

Just as he was about to reach for his water bottle, the door to the music hall opened.

Riku sat up immediately, his eyes locking onto the familiar figure stepping out onto the pavement.

Daeyoung.

His husband walked toward the car, his expression unreadable at first, shoulders a little tense. Riku searched his face, trying to read him, but before he could decipher anything, Daeyoung looked up and met his gaze.

And then—

A small, almost shy smile tugged at Daeyoung’s lips.

Relief flooded Riku’s chest.

The moment Riku saw Daeyoung’s small, triumphant smile, he didn’t hesitate.

He threw open the car door, bolting across the pavement with no regard for anything else. As soon as he reached Daeyoung, he jumped—legs wrapping securely around his husband's waist, arms locking around his neck.

Daeyoung stumbled back slightly but caught him with ease, his hands gripping Riku’s thighs to keep him steady.

Riku barely gave him a chance to react before pressing a kiss to his cheek, then another to the corner of his lips. “Well? How’d it go? Tell me, tell me, tell me—”

Daeyoung let out a breathless laugh, his grip tightening around Riku. His dark eyes sparkled, excitement radiating from him. “I did it,” he finally said, voice filled with happiness. “They want me to start practicing for the musical showing next month.”

Riku pulled back slightly, his mouth falling open. “Wait. You’re serious?”

Daeyoung nodded, his grin widening. “I got in.”

For a moment, Riku just stared at him, heart pounding as the words sank in. Then, without warning, he let out a loud whoop, tightening his hold on Daeyoung and practically squeezing the air out of him.

“I knew it!” he shouted. “I knew you’d get it! There’s no way they’d turn you down after hearing you sing!”

Daeyoung chuckled, his grip on Riku unwavering despite carrying his full weight. “You were more nervous than I was.”

“I was not,” Riku huffed, but his voice betrayed him. He pressed his forehead against Daeyoung’s, smiling so hard his cheeks hurt. “I’m so proud of you.”

Daeyoung sighed happily, shifting Riku in his arms before finally setting him back on his feet. “Thank you.” His voice softened, his thumb brushing against Riku’s cheek. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Riku felt his heart swell at those words.

But then, as if realizing something, his brows furrowed, and he pouted dramatically. “So… I really have to share your singing with everyone now?”

Daeyoung laughed, wrapping an arm around Riku’s shoulders as they started walking back to the car. “Looks like it.”

Riku grumbled under his breath but couldn’t stop the grin from creeping back onto his face. “Well, at least I get front-row seats.”

Daeyoung squeezed his hand. “Always.”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The days blurred together in a whirlwind of schedules, training, and exhaustion.

Despite their best efforts to stay organized—color-coding their calendar on the fridge, setting multiple phone alarms, and even leaving sticky notes for each other on the counter—time always seemed to slip through their fingers. The balance between their individual ambitions and their life together was becoming a delicate act, one that neither had quite mastered yet.

Riku spent every morning in the gym, pushing his body to its absolute limit. He ran drills, strengthened his reflexes, and worked on his precision—anything to give himself an edge before the final Olympic selection matches. His muscles ached, his legs burned, but he didn’t stop. He couldn’t afford to.

Meanwhile, Daeyoung was drowning in rehearsals. Every day, he found himself in the theater, learning choreography, memorizing blocking, and perfecting his vocal performance under the guidance of the production team. The more he practiced, the more he realized how different musical acting was from his usual world of classical performance. It wasn’t just about hitting the right notes—it was about becoming the character, expressing emotions through both song and movement. He would return home at night with a sore throat and tired feet, but with a passion that kept him going.

And despite living under the same roof, Riku and Daeyoung barely saw each other.

Some nights, Riku would get home late, exhausted from hours of training, only to find Daeyoung already asleep, curled up on his side of the bed with the script still resting on his chest. Other times, it was Daeyoung who would return to an empty house, catching glimpses of Riku’s volleyball bag abandoned by the door and knowing his husband was still practicing somewhere.

Meals together became a rarity. Conversations were reduced to quick exchanges in passing—updates on practice, reminders of appointments, and promises to make time for each other soon.

Jelly, ever the observant companion, had taken to splitting her time between them. In the mornings, she would follow Riku to the door, wagging her tail as if to cheer him on before he left for practice. In the evenings, she would curl up beside Daeyoung on the couch as he went over his lines. Sometimes, she would even sit between them on the bed, as if trying to remind them that they were still a team, even in their busiest moments.

But despite the distance their schedules created, there was never any doubt between them.

Every now and then, Daeyoung would wake up in the middle of the night to find Riku holding his hand, even in his sleep. And sometimes, Riku would return home after an exhausting practice to find a thermos of hot tea left on the counter with a note in Daeyoung’s familiar handwriting: Don’t overwork yourself. I love you.

They didn’t always have time. But they still had each other.

And that was enough to keep them going.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

Time seemed to slip by faster than Riku could keep up with obligations coming together in a haze of exhaustion and adrenaline. As much as he was determined to keep his focus on the upcoming Olympic selection matches, the absence of Daeyoung at his side felt like a growing ache in his chest.

Riku would wake up to the cold, empty side of the bed, and despite his intense dedication to his training, it was impossible to push the thoughts of his husband away. Daeyoung had his own hectic schedule to follow, his days filled with musical rehearsals and auditions, and it seemed like the two of them barely shared a moment together. Their home was quiet in the mornings—no breakfast shared over teasing conversation, no soft laughter as they joked about who would get up first.

It was strange, this distance. Riku was used to having Daeyoung close, their routines intertwined and their mornings synced in a rhythm of domesticity that had become second nature. Now, as the days passed, it felt like the silence between them grew louder with each passing hour.

Riku couldn’t help but miss the little things. He missed the warmth of Daeyoung’s body against his when they woke up. He missed the way Daeyoung would make him coffee in the mornings, adding just the right amount of sugar without asking, knowing exactly how Riku liked it. He missed their conversations at night, where they would talk about their days, about their dreams, about anything and everything.

One evening, Riku found himself back in their living room after a particularly grueling practice, the ache in his body settling in as he sank into the couch. The house was quiet, the only sound the occasional shift of Jelly as she sprawled out on the floor. It had been a while since they’d had a quiet night together, just the three of them.

Riku picked up his phone, scrolling through messages that had piled up throughout the day. There were a few from his teammates, updates from the volleyball world, but it was the message from Daeyoung that caught his eye. "I miss you." Just those three words, simple but enough to make Riku’s heart tug in his chest.

Without thinking, he quickly typed back. "I miss you too. Let’s have a night to ourselves soon. I can’t wait to see you."

He hit send and leaned back against the couch, a deep sigh escaping him. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d had time just for the two of them. They’d been so caught up in their own worlds lately, but Riku could feel the distance between them, the emptiness that came from not being able to share the small moments that made their life together so special.

He looked up at the clock and realized it was getting late. Daeyoung was probably still at rehearsals, the thought of his husband practicing for the musical floating in his mind. Daeyoung’s passion for music had always amazed him, and even though it made Riku proud, it didn’t stop the ache in his chest.

It was then that he heard the sound of keys rattling at the door. Riku’s head snapped up, a spark of hope flickering inside him. The door creaked open, and in walked Daeyoung, a tired smile on his face, his hair a little tousled from the long day.

The moment their eyes met, Riku felt a rush of relief. His heart beat faster, as if waking from a long sleep. Daeyoung’s smile softened, his eyes lighting up when he saw Riku sitting on the couch.

"Hey," Daeyoung said, his voice gentle, as though he too had been missing this moment. "I’m sorry I’m late... I didn’t mean to keep you waiting."

Riku stood up from the couch, closing the distance between them in a few quick steps. Without a word, he wrapped his arms around Daeyoung, pulling him close and burying his face in the crook of his neck. Daeyoung stiffened for a moment, as though surprised by the sudden embrace, but then he melted into Riku’s arms, his hands sliding around his waist as he hugged him back.

"I missed you," Riku whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Daeyoung’s grip tightened, and he leaned back slightly, his hands gently cupping Riku’s face. "I missed you too," he murmured, his voice soft but full of sincerity. "This... all of this, it’s been so crazy, but I didn’t want to let you feel like I was too busy for you."

Riku closed his eyes at Daeyoung’s touch, the words settling into his chest, and for the first time in days, the ache in his heart began to ease. He pulled Daeyoung closer, his hands moving to tangle in Daeyoung’s shirt. "We’ll make it work. No matter how busy we get, I need you. I don’t want to miss this... miss us ."

Daeyoung nodded, his forehead resting against Riku’s, the two of them standing in the quiet of their home, the rest of the world outside. "I want that too," Daeyoung whispered back, his lips brushing Riku’s in a soft kiss. "I promise we’ll find time. Even if it’s just a few minutes... it’s all worth it."

The kiss lingered, gentle and reassuring, as if both of them were grounding themselves in the presence of the other. It wasn’t the loud, overwhelming moments of their passion that Riku missed the most—it was the simple connection, the moments where everything slowed down and they could just be together, even in the midst of their hectic lives.

Riku pulled back slightly, his hands resting on Daeyoung’s shoulders, a soft smile on his lips. "I’m glad you’re here," he said, his voice filled with quiet affection.

"I’m always here," Daeyoung replied, his thumb gently stroking Riku’s cheek. "I’ll always make time for you."

In that moment, Riku realized that no matter how hectic their schedules became, no matter how many hours they spent apart, the bond between them would always be strong. And that was all he needed to feel complete.

They stayed like that for a while, just holding each other, savoring the quiet moments. Eventually, Riku spoke again, his voice teasing but still soft. "You wanna sit down and have dinner with me? I’m starving."

Daeyoung chuckled, pulling away just enough to meet Riku’s eyes. "I’d love to. Let’s make it a date night, even if we’re both exhausted."

Riku grinned, feeling lighter than he had in days. "Sounds perfect to me."

Together, they walked into the kitchen, ready to take a break from their chaotic lives, even if it was just for the night. And for the first time in a while, Riku felt at peace, knowing that no matter how busy life got, they would always find a way back to each other. 

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

A week before his Olympic match selections, Riku found himself alone at home once more, despite the promise to spend more time with Daeyoung. The soft hum of the air conditioning filled the quiet house, the rhythmic sound blending with the distant city noises beyond the window. Riku lay sprawled across their bed, still warm from his post-shower laziness, his damp hair tousled from where he had been rolling around in anticipation. His fingers drummed absentmindedly against his stomach as he stared at the ceiling, his mind occupied with one very specific thought.

Daeyoung.

He missed him—desperately. It had been too long since they had spent more than a few fleeting moments together, too long since he had felt the warmth of Daeyoung’s body pressed against his, too long since he had teased Daeyoung just enough to make him flustered before dragging him into something more intimate.

He wanted him tonight.

Riku smirked to himself as he shifted, already plotting the ways he could lure his husband into bed. Maybe he would start slow—light touches, lazy kisses, the kind that always made Daeyoung melt before he even realized what was happening. Or maybe he’d be bolder, let his hands roam, whisper something teasing into Daeyoung’s ear until he couldn’t resist.

He was still lost in his thoughts when the sound of the front door opening echoed through the house, followed by the soft click of shoes against the hardwood floor.

Riku blinked.

Daeyoung wasn’t supposed to be home for another few hours.

Sitting up, he ran a hand through his hair, confused but pleasantly surprised. Before he could call out, the bedroom door swung open, revealing Daeyoung standing in the doorway, looking effortlessly breathtaking.

He was dressed in a crisp, long-sleeved button-down, the first few buttons undone just enough to tease at the smooth skin beneath. His dress pants fit him perfectly, tailored to hug his frame in a way that made Riku’s throat go dry. But it wasn’t just the sight of Daeyoung in formal wear that caught Riku off guard.

It was what he was holding.

A bouquet of roses and honeysuckles.

Riku’s breath hitched.

Their flowers.

The very same flowers Daeyoung had first given him all those years ago when their feelings were still unspoken, when their relationship was still fragile and new. The same flowers that had adorned their wedding, woven into the arrangements and on all the tables. For a moment, Riku didn’t know what to say.

His carefully crafted plans to seduce his husband scattered like petals in the wind.

Daeyoung smiled, soft and knowing, as he stepped further into the room. He looked tired, but there was something in his expression—something warm, something unshaken despite the weight of his busy schedule.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Daeyoung said, his voice gentle, filled with a kind of love that made Riku’s chest ache.

Riku swallowed, his heart hammering.

Forget seduction.

Right now, all he wanted to do was hold Daeyoung close and never let go.

Riku’s hands trembled slightly as he reached for the bouquet Daeyoung was holding, the bouquet of roses and honeysuckles—flowers that meant so much to them both. With a deep breath, he took the bouquet and gently set it down on the nightstand, momentarily distracted by the way the delicate petals seemed to glow in the soft light of their room. 

Turning to face Daeyoung again, Riku felt his heart beat faster. His husband stood before him, still holding a soft, affectionate smile, his eyes warm and familiar. But there was something else—something that Riku couldn’t deny, something that had been building inside him over the past few weeks. The way their schedules had pulled them apart, the endless practices, the long days without time to simply exist in each other’s presence—it had all left him craving this moment. This closeness.

Without thinking, Riku stepped forward, his hands moving instinctively to Daeyoung’s face. He cupped his husband’s jaw, his thumb grazing over the soft skin, before pulling him down into a kiss.

It started gentle, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters after too long apart. Their lips met in the perfect fit, as if their bodies had memorized each other, learned the rhythm of their kisses over time. Daeyoung’s breath hitched softly against Riku’s lips, and the sound of it sparked something deep inside him. It wasn’t enough to linger in this sweetness alone. Riku’s body reacted first, drawing him closer, his lips parting as he deepened the kiss.

His hands slid down Daeyoung’s back, pulling him in tighter, feeling the familiar warmth of his husband’s body against his. The heat from Daeyoung’s chest radiated through the thin fabric of his shirt, sending sparks through Riku’s veins. Every inch of Daeyoung, every breath, was intoxicating. Riku’s body urged him to move, and without thinking, he guided Daeyoung down onto the bed.

The movement was fluid, natural. Daeyoung’s back met the soft sheets, and before he could say anything, Riku was already on top of him, straddling his lap. He could feel the tension in Daeyoung’s muscles beneath him, the way his husband’s chest rose with anticipation. Riku couldn’t hold back the small grin that tugged at his lips as he leaned down, his own mouth capturing Daeyoung’s in a heated kiss once more.

“Back on my favorite seat in the house,” Riku murmured against Daeyoung’s lips, his voice low and full of affection and teasing. There was a hint of playful dominance in his words, but it was also sincere. Daeyoung was his home, his constant, and this was where Riku wanted to be, above all else.

Daeyoung chuckled softly, the sound vibrating in Riku’s chest, his hands already running up Riku’s back, pulling him closer, urging him deeper into the kiss. There was no hesitation now. Their chemistry, their connection, everything they had together—it was palpable. Daeyoung wasn’t just teasing him. He was eager, just as eager to lose himself in the moment as Riku was.

Riku smirked, feeling the heat rise between them. He kissed Daeyoung’s jawline, his lips moving lower, down to his neck where he lingered for just a moment, pressing soft, tender kisses to the delicate skin there. The sensation made Daeyoung’s breath quicken, and Riku couldn’t help but smile against his skin. “I missed you,” he whispered, his voice hushed but full of emotion, as if finally letting out everything he had been holding inside.

Daeyoung’s hand slid to the back of Riku’s neck, tugging him back up to meet his lips. He kissed him deeply, his body arching slightly under Riku’s weight, melting into the embrace. “I missed you too,” Daeyoung murmured between their kisses, his words breathless but sincere.

The tension that had built between them over the past few weeks, the longing, the fatigue—all of it melted away as their bodies connected once more. Riku felt a sense of completeness, as if he had been holding his breath for far too long and was finally exhaling. He wasn’t just preparing for the Olympic matches. He wasn’t just waiting for the next day, the next moment. He was with Daeyoung. He was home.

As the minutes stretched on, their kisses deepened, their touches growing more urgent. Riku’s hands wandered over Daeyoung’s chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath, the steady heartbeat that echoed beneath his fingertips. Everything about Daeyoung was so familiar, so perfect. Riku didn’t want to let go. He wanted to stay in this moment forever, to hold his husband close, to remind himself just how much he had always loved him.

Riku’s body reacted to Daeyoung’s touch with urgency, his muscles tense as he moved against him, feeling the heat of their connection growing more intense with every second. His hands slid to the hem of Daeyoung’s shirt, pulling it over his head in one smooth motion. The sight of Daeyoung’s bare chest beneath him made Riku’s breath hitch, and he took a moment to appreciate the beauty of his husband’s form—muscular yet lean, the faintest lines of tension still remaining in his shoulders from the long days of rehearsals.

“You’re perfect,” Riku murmured, his voice full of wonder.

Daeyoung’s eyes softened, and he smiled, his hand reaching up to cup Riku’s cheek. “And you’re mine,” he whispered in return, his words full of affection.

Riku couldn’t hold back the smile that tugged at his lips. He leaned down to kiss Daeyoung again, slower this time, savoring the moment. Everything felt so right—his body against Daeyoung’s, their hearts beating as one. There was nothing more comforting than knowing that, no matter what came next, they would always have this. They would always have each other.

As they continued to kiss, the world outside their bedroom no longer mattered. The pressures, the anxieties of the upcoming weeks—all of it faded into the background. It was just them now, wrapped in each other’s embrace, finding solace in the simple act of being together.

For now, that was all Riku needed.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden glow across their bedroom. Riku blinked his eyes open, the soreness in his lower back making him grimace as he stretched, his body a little stiff from the previous night. He let out a small groan but couldn't help but smile at the memory. The lingering warmth of Daeyoung’s touch still pulsed through his skin, and the faint ache only reminded him of how much he had truly enjoyed being with him.

He glanced down at his body and couldn't suppress a laugh. There were hickies scattered across his skin, small but vivid marks of passion, some dark and others fading to purple, but all of them a testament to the intensity of the night. Riku didn’t mind. In fact, he wore them proudly, knowing that they were a sign of the deep connection they shared. Daeyoung had left his mark, and Riku couldn’t help but think that it was beautiful in its own way.

Riku shifted in the bed, feeling the cool sheets against his skin. The space beside him was empty, and the soft sound of water running from the bathroom alerted him to the fact that Daeyoung was already up. He turned his head toward the open door of the walk-in closet, catching a glimpse of Daeyoung pulling on his clothes. The soft rustle of fabric filled the room as Daeyoung bent to adjust his pants, his back still partially turned to Riku.

Riku’s gaze lingered on him, taking in the way Daeyoung’s muscles moved under his shirt as he reached for the last button of his dress shirt. Daeyoung was just as marked as Riku was, hickies decorating his neck and chest, faint bruises where Riku had left his marks in the heat of the moment. That thought brought a smile to Riku’s lips, his chest swelling with affection as he observed the man who had just shared such an intimate night with him.

Riku couldn't help but appreciate the way Daeyoung moved, the graceful yet purposeful way he went about getting dressed, as if every action was a part of a careful routine. Even with all the marks left on him, Daeyoung seemed unaffected, pulling his shirt down with that quiet confidence he always carried. His body was as alluring as ever, and Riku couldn’t deny that he still found him just as beautiful, if not more so, every time he looked at him.

“Morning,” Riku said softly, his voice thick with sleep and warmth, a small, teasing smile playing on his lips as he watched Daeyoung turn toward him, his eyes soft but with that ever-present glint of affection.

Daeyoung’s eyes narrowed slightly, a playful look crossing his face as he raised an eyebrow. “You’re awake late this morning, huh?”

Riku stretched again, a little exaggeratedly this time, to make a point of how sore he was. "Yeah, a bit sore from... last night."

Daeyoung chuckled, his lips curving into a grin that could light up the room. "I guess I might have gone a little overboard," he teased.

Riku laughed softly, rolling over to prop himself up on his elbows. "I don’t mind," he said with a wink. "You look just as marked up as I do, so I think it’s fair."

Daeyoung’s cheeks flushed, but the grin on his face only widened. He stepped out of the closet and walked over to the bed, leaning down and kissing Riku’s forehead. “Well, you’re one to talk,” he said, his voice soft, his lips lingering against Riku’s skin for a moment longer. “I guess we’ll both be wearing these marks for a while.”

Riku smirked, looking up at Daeyoung. “Good thing I don’t mind showing them off,” he teased, running a hand lightly over Daeyoung’s chest, tracing one of the marks he'd left there.

Daeyoung chuckled again, his eyes warm with affection. “Neither do I,” he replied, pulling back slightly and giving Riku a mischievous glance. “Now, we should probably get going—don’t want to be late, right?”

Riku nodded, sitting up slowly, feeling the muscles in his back protest but forcing himself to ignore it. “Right, I should get moving. But you know, I might need a little more help getting ready this morning...”

Daeyoung raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh? What kind of help are we talking about?”

Riku leaned back into the pillow, his smile teasing. “You know, the kind that involves you helping me get dressed... or maybe just a few more kisses.”

Daeyoung shook his head with a soft laugh but obliged, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slow and soft, just like the kind of morning they were having. It was the perfect start to another busy day, but in that moment, it was just the two of them, with the world outside momentarily forgotten.

When they finally pulled apart, Riku felt an overwhelming sense of contentment. His heart was full, his mind at ease. Whatever the day would bring—Olympic trials, auditions, the madness of their careers—he knew he would face it with Daeyoung by his side.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The gymnasium echoed with the sharp sound of sneakers squeaking against polished wood, the rhythmic thud of the volleyball bouncing, and the steady, commanding voice of the coach barking out instructions. Riku barely noticed any of it. He was in the zone.

His body moved on instinct, years of training dictating his every action. His jump was precise, his spikes calculated, and his blocks solid. Sweat dripped down his temple as he pushed himself harder, aware that the Olympic selection matches were only two days away. He was ready. He could feel it. The weeks of rigorous training, the sacrifices, and the exhaustion were culminating in this moment. He was at his peak again, sharper than he had been in months.

But despite the satisfaction that came with knowing he was ready, a bitter taste lingered at the back of his mind.

Daeyoung wasn’t going to be there to watch.

They had talked about it last night, laying in bed, their fingers loosely intertwined. Daeyoung had looked apologetic, his thumb running circles over the back of Riku’s hand as he explained that his first dress rehearsal was on the same night. The director had stressed that attendance was mandatory, especially since it was the first full run-through with costumes, lighting, and the orchestra.

“I really wish I could be there,” Daeyoung had said softly, and Riku had known he meant it. “But I can’t miss this.”

Riku had forced a smile, brushing Daeyoung’s bangs out of his face. “I know. It’s okay. You’ll be there in spirit.”

And he had meant that, too. But now, as he panted through another grueling round of practice, his hands stinging from the force of each spike, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of that absence settling deep in his chest.

He was used to looking into the stands and seeing Daeyoung there, whether at his professional matches or even just casual practice games. It was a constant Riku had grown accustomed to—knowing that whenever he turned his head, Daeyoung would be watching him with that quiet, unwavering support, his presence an anchor in the chaos.

This time, it would be different.

This time, he would look into the stands and see an empty seat where Daeyoung should have been.

His fingers clenched around the ball before he served, sending it soaring over the net with an almost reckless force. It was fine, he told himself. He had played in plenty of matches before without Daeyoung in the audience. It wouldn’t change his performance. It wouldn’t change how badly he wanted this.

But as he landed from his jump, a familiar ache settled in his heart.

He missed Daeyoung. And for the first time since the Olympic selection process started, he realized just how much he wanted his husband to witness this moment with him.

What he didn’t notice, however, was the figure quietly slipping into the gym.

Daeyoung had made his way inside, exhaustion evident in the slight slump of his shoulders. Normally, practices were closed to outsiders, but by now, everyone was familiar with Riku’s husband. Nobody questioned his presence as he silently made his way up the bleachers, taking a seat near the middle where he had the best view of the court.

He watched as Riku moved, his husband’s body in constant motion, powerful and disciplined. Daeyoung could see the focus in his expression—the way he gave everything to the game. It made him smile, even through his exhaustion. He had barely been able to get away from his own rehearsals, but he knew he had to come, even if just for a little while.

Riku remained oblivious, completely immersed in his training. His body moved on instinct, driven by years of practice and determination. It wasn’t until he finished a particularly long rally, bending over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, that he finally lifted his gaze—and froze.

There, sitting in the bleachers, was Daeyoung.

Riku’s chest tightened at the sight. His husband looked exhausted, his normally neat hair slightly disheveled, and yet he was still here, watching. For a moment, the rest of the world faded.

Daeyoung gave him a small wave, his lips curling into a soft smile.

Riku exhaled, his heart swelling with something warm and unshakable. Then, without thinking, he stood up a little straighter, wiped the sweat off his forehead, and grinned.

If Daeyoung was watching, then he’d make sure to give him a show worth remembering.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The drive home was quiet, but it was a comfortable kind of silence. The streetlights cast long shadows over the road, flickering through the windshield as Daeyoung navigated the familiar route home. His fingers rested loosely on the steering wheel, but his other hand was firmly captured in Riku’s grasp.

No matter how tired he was, Riku refused to let go.

His grip wasn’t desperate, just steady, grounding—like he needed the contact to remind himself that Daeyoung was there. That despite their crazy schedules, despite barely seeing each other these past few weeks, they were still together. Daeyoung’s thumb absently stroked the side of Riku’s hand, and Riku let out a content sigh.

“So,” Daeyoung started, his voice a little hoarse from exhaustion, “practice looked intense today.”

Riku hummed in agreement. “Yeah. Everyone’s pushing hard. The selection matches are in two days, and I feel like I’ve reached my peak.” He paused for a moment, then sighed, squeezing Daeyoung’s hand. “But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous.”

Daeyoung glanced at him briefly before turning his focus back on the road. “That’s normal,” he said softly. “It just means it’s important to you.”

Riku bit his lip. He didn’t want to admit it, but part of him was terrified. All the work, all the effort—it was all leading to this moment. What if it wasn’t enough? What if he messed up?

“I know I’ve trained for this,” Riku murmured, voice lower now, “but still… what if I fail?”

Daeyoung didn’t hesitate. He lifted their intertwined hands and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of Riku’s hand. His lips were soft and warm against Riku’s skin, the gesture so tender that Riku’s breath caught in his throat.

“You won’t,” Daeyoung said simply. There was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation—just quiet, unwavering belief. “I know you, Riku. You’re going to do amazing.”

Riku swallowed, feeling the nerves settle just a little. He turned his head to look at Daeyoung, who was still focused on driving, his expression calm but firm. His words weren’t just empty reassurances—he meant them.

A small smile formed on Riku’s lips. He leaned his head against the car window, still holding onto Daeyoung’s hand.

“Yeah,” he murmured, squeezing Daeyoung’s fingers. “I’ll do my best.”

The drive home only took a few more minutes and Riku was relieved to finally be home.

The moment Daeyoung unlocked the front door, the sound of scrambling paws echoed through the hallway. A blur of soft golden fur came bounding toward them, tail wagging so fast it was almost a blur. Jelly let out a series of happy barks, her excitement uncontrollable as she jumped up on Riku first, her front paws pressing against his legs.

Despite the exhaustion weighing down on him, Riku couldn’t help but smile. “Jelly!” he greeted warmly, immediately crouching down to her level. “Did you miss us, huh?”

Jelly responded by enthusiastically licking his face, her entire body wiggling with joy. Riku laughed, wrapping his arms around her and pressing a few kisses to the top of her fluffy head. “I missed you too, baby,” he murmured, rubbing his face against her fur. The warmth of her body, the familiar scent of home—it was comforting in a way that melted the exhaustion from his bones, even if just for a moment.

Daeyoung stood nearby, watching the reunion with a fond smile. “She waited by the door for a while today,” he commented, setting his bag down. “She definitely knew we were coming home late.”

Riku continued to pepper Jelly with affection, rubbing her ears and scratching under her chin. “I swear, she understands our schedules better than we do,” he joked before sighing contently.

Jelly let out a happy little whine before bouncing over to Daeyoung for her turn at receiving affection. Daeyoung chuckled and leaned down, giving her a few gentle pats before heading into the kitchen to grab them both some water.

Riku, still on the floor with Jelly, watched as Daeyoung disappeared into the kitchen. A soft, tired smile lingered on his lips as he leaned against their dog, hugging her close for a moment longer. It had been a long day—hell, a long couple of weeks—but at least he was home now.

And home meant Daeyoung and Jelly.

And that was all he needed.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The morning sunlight painted soft golden streaks across the room, seeping through the curtains as warmth settled over the quiet space. Riku was wrapped in the cocoon of their blankets, the last traces of sleep still clinging to his mind. He might have drifted off again if not for the sensation of something warm and soft pressing against the side of his neck—gentle, lingering kisses, slow and deliberate.

A deep hum rumbled from his chest as he stirred, eyes fluttering open. The first thing he saw was Daeyoung leaning over him, his dark hair slightly tousled from the morning, eyes glowing with a quiet affection. His husband was breathtaking, even in the simplest moments like this.

"Good morning," Daeyoung murmured, his voice thick with sleep, a small, lazy smile gracing his lips.

Before Riku could respond, he felt a small weight suddenly land on his stomach. A warm, wet nose nudged his cheek, followed by an excited whine. He cracked one eye open wider and came face-to-face with Jelly, their dog’s tail wagging eagerly as she greeted him.

"Jelly," Riku groaned, still half-asleep, reaching out to ruffle the fur on her head. "Betraying me by teaming up with Daeyoung to wake me up?"

Daeyoung chuckled, scratching behind Jelly’s ears. "She’s just excited. And besides, you don’t get to sleep in today. It’s your big day."

Riku blinked, and then the realization settled in fully—today was the Olympic selection matches. A surge of nerves and excitement buzzed through him, but before he could get lost in his thoughts, something else caught his attention.

The rich scent of freshly made food drifted through the air, warm and inviting. His brows lifted slightly. "Wait… did you cook?"

Daeyoung smirked. "Of course I did." He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to Riku’s lips before whispering, "You woke up early to make me breakfast for my audition. It’s only fair I do the same."

Riku's heart clenched at the thought, the tenderness behind it making his chest ache in the best way. He studied Daeyoung for a moment—his husband, his home. Even with exhaustion lingering faintly in his features from his own rehearsals, he was still effortlessly beautiful.

"You’re too good to me," Riku murmured, threading his fingers through Daeyoung’s as he lifted their hands to kiss the back of his husband’s hand.

Daeyoung huffed a laugh. "I know."

"Unbelievable," Riku muttered, though his lips curved into a grin.

Jelly barked softly, as if reminding them of her presence, and Daeyoung chuckled. "Come on, let’s eat before the food gets cold."

Riku groaned dramatically but let himself be pulled out of bed. Jelly jumped off the bed first, trotting excitedly ahead of them as they made their way to the kitchen.

The sight waiting for Riku made his breath catch slightly. The table was already set, with a steaming bowl of miso soup, perfectly grilled fish, fluffy white rice, and tamagoyaki neatly plated. A simple but incredibly thoughtful meal.

Daeyoung watched him expectantly, looking just a little shy. "It’s not much, but—"

Riku didn’t let him finish. He turned and wrapped his arms around Daeyoung’s waist, pulling him close. "It’s perfect," he murmured against his shoulder. "You’re perfect."

Daeyoung melted into the embrace, his arms tightening around Riku in return. They stood there for a moment, just holding each other in the quiet warmth of their kitchen, with Jelly happily circling their feet.

Finally, Riku pulled back slightly, pressing a lingering kiss to Daeyoung’s temple before grinning. "But don’t think this means I’ll go easy on you when I get back. You still owe me more cuddles for making me get up early."

Daeyoung rolled his eyes, but his smile remained. "Eat your breakfast first, and then we’ll talk about bribes."

Laughing, they finally sat down to eat, Jelly curling up at their feet. And as Riku took his first bite, savoring the warmth of the meal made with so much love, he realized something—no matter what happened today, whether he made the Olympic team or not, he had already won the most important thing in his life.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The drive to the gymnasium was quiet but comfortable, the air buzzing with anticipation. Riku sat in the passenger seat, fully dressed in his team uniform, his fingers absently drumming against his knee. The weight of the day sat heavy on his shoulders, but there was also a thrill in his veins—this was the moment he had worked so hard for. The Olympic selection matches.

Beside him, Daeyoung kept his eyes on the road, one hand resting casually on the gear shift, the other gripping the wheel. His expression was calm, but Riku could tell he was thinking, maybe even worrying on his behalf. It was in the way his lips pressed together every now and then, how his fingers tapped lightly against the wheel whenever they stopped at a red light.

"You’re quiet," Riku finally murmured, tilting his head to look at his husband. "Are you nervous?"

Daeyoung hummed, his lips twitching into a small smile. "I wouldn’t say nervous. More like… excited. You’ve been waiting for this for so long, and now it’s finally here."

Riku let out a breathy laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "Yeah. It still feels kind of unreal."

The gymnasium came into view, standing tall and imposing, the place where everything he had worked for was about to be put to the test. Daeyoung smoothly pulled up to the entrance and put the car in park.

Riku exhaled, unbuckling his seatbelt and reaching for the door handle, but before he could step out, something warm and firm caught his wrist.

Daeyoung’s fingers curled around him, tugging him back.

Before Riku could register what was happening, soft lips pressed against his own—firm, sure, and utterly grounding. His breath hitched, his heart skipping a beat as Daeyoung kissed him deeply, fingers tightening just slightly around his wrist, as if telling Riku to stay in this moment for just a little longer.

By the time Daeyoung finally pulled away, Riku was dazed, his face burning despite the cool air filtering in through the cracked car window. He blinked, barely processing the soft chuckle from his husband.

"I love you," Daeyoung murmured, his voice warm and steady. "I know you'll do great today."

Riku swallowed thickly, his ears burning. Despite being married for two years, Daeyoung still had this effect on him—still managed to make his heart stutter, still turned him into a flustered mess with just a kiss and a few words.

He cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure. "Yeah, well…" He huffed, rubbing at his warm cheek. "You’re unfair, pulling something like that before a big match."

Daeyoung smirked, leaning back in his seat. "Consider it a good luck charm."

Riku scoffed, but the fond smile tugging at his lips betrayed him.

With one last lingering look, he finally stepped out of the car, adjusting his uniform as he straightened his posture. As he turned back, Daeyoung was still watching him, his eyes filled with quiet pride and something deeper—something that made Riku’s stomach flip.

"Go be amazing," Daeyoung said simply.

Riku gave him a firm nod before shutting the door and turning toward the gymnasium entrance. With each step he took, the weight of the moment settled fully on his shoulders, but he didn’t feel alone.

He could still feel Daeyoung’s lips against his, the warmth of his words lingering in his chest.

And with that, Riku walked into the gym, ready to give it everything he had.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The Olympic selection matches were nothing short of grueling. The gymnasium was a battlefield, filled with some of the best volleyball players in the country—some Riku knew well from playing alongside them, others he recognized as formidable opponents from past matches. Every single person here had the same goal: to prove themselves worthy of representing Japan on the Olympic team.

Multiple courts were set up, each holding intense scrimmages as players pushed their limits to impress the coaches. The air was thick with tension and the sound of squeaking shoes, powerful spikes, and sharp calls for the ball echoed across the space. Riku barely had time to breathe as he moved with calculated precision, his mind sharp, his body moving on instinct. He had worked too hard to get here, sacrificed too much—failure wasn’t an option.

The Olympic team had three coaches, all of whom roamed the gym like hawks, watching and analyzing every movement, every play. One moment, Riku would catch a glimpse of them on the far side of the gym, and the next, he’d feel the weight of their attention on him, assessing his skills, his composure, his ability to work as a teammate.

Focus. Breathe. React.

That was all Riku could allow himself to think about. He didn’t have time to be nervous—this was what he had trained for.

His team rotated constantly, testing his adaptability. Sometimes he was paired with players he knew well, other times he was alongside complete strangers, forcing him to read their movements and adjust his playstyle accordingly. He had to show not only his individual talent but also his ability to bring out the best in those around him.

A quick glance at the bleachers showed a handful of spectators—some were agents, some former athletes, and probably a few family members of the players. Riku knew Daeyoung wasn’t there—his husband was at his own rehearsal, preparing for his big moment in the musical. Still, the thought of him sent a surge of motivation through Riku’s veins.

Daeyoung believed in him.

He clenched his jaw, refocusing on the game as a setter sent the ball his way. Riku jumped, his body moving with practiced ease as he spiked the ball past the blockers and straight into the opposing team’s court. The satisfying sound of it hitting the floor barely registered before he was moving again, ready for the next play.

Time blurred together as match after match went by, sweat dripping down his temples, muscles burning with exhaustion. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

By the end of the day, as the final whistle blew, Riku stood amongst his fellow competitors, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths. The selection process wasn’t over yet—there would be more cuts, more challenges in the coming days. But for now, he had made it through the first round.

He wiped his sweat-drenched face with the hem of his jersey, glancing around at the other players who had given their all. Some looked relieved, others frustrated. But Riku?

He felt alive.

He pulled out his phone the second he reached the locker room, his fingers hovering over Daeyoung’s name. He wanted to tell him everything, to hear his voice, to share this moment. But before he could type out a message, his phone buzzed.

Daeyoung: How did it go?

Riku let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, a tired but triumphant smile pulling at his lips.

Riku: I think I did good. I feel good.

There was a pause before another message came through.

Daeyoung: Of course you did. I never doubted you.

Riku leaned back against his locker, his body aching, but his heart light.

Tomorrow, he would do it all over again.

Riku takes his time taking a shower in the locker room, finally relieved to be back in the gymnasium again after waiting all these weeks for the Olympic selection matches. He changes into his sweatpants and one of Daeyoung’s hoodie and slings his back over his shoulder as he exists the locker room. 

Just as Riku was about to leave the gym and call a taxi to bring him home, one of the coaches, the assistant coach, stopped him on his way out.

“Maeda-Kim Riku, right?” The coach confirmed and Riku nodded his head.

“We just wanted to thank you for your patience throughout this process. We know that postponing these matches has been a problem for a lot of people… The head coach just wanted to let you know that you’re confirmed for the team already, you don’t need to return for tomorrow’s matches. Congratulations.” 

The exhaustion that had settled into Riku’s bones after a grueling day of matches suddenly felt insignificant. He stood frozen for a moment, blinking at the assistant coach as if he hadn’t heard him correctly.

“Wait—” His breath caught in his throat. “What?”

The assistant coach, a middle-aged man with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor, gave him a small smile. “You’re in, Riku. The head coach already had his eye on you, and after today’s performance, there was no need for further evaluation. You’ve secured your spot on the Olympic team.”

The words hit Riku like a perfectly timed set—unexpected, yet exactly what he had been waiting for. His heart pounded in his chest, and a slow, disbelieving smile stretched across his face.

“I…” He ran a hand through his damp hair, still processing the weight of those words. “Thank you. I—wow. Thank you.”

The assistant coach chuckled. “Go home, get some rest. You’ve earned it. The official announcement will be made in a few days, but we wanted to tell you now so you don’t push yourself unnecessarily tomorrow. We’ll send the confirmation email later tonight as well.”

Riku nodded rapidly, his mind still spinning. He had prepared himself for another day of cutthroat competition, for the stress of wondering if he would make it through. But now—he didn’t need to. He had already done it.

“I won’t let you down,” Riku promised, his voice firm despite the emotions welling up in his chest.

“We know you won’t,” the coach replied, clapping him once on the shoulder before walking off.

As soon as the coach was out of sight, Riku let out a breathless laugh, his hands shaking slightly as he pulled out his phone. He needed to tell Daeyoung.

Riku: I made it.

A few seconds passed before his phone vibrated with an incoming call.

Riku barely had time to say hello before Daeyoung’s excited voice filled his ear.

“You did it?” he asked, breathless, as if he had sprinted just to grab his phone.

Riku grinned. “I did it.”

A loud exhale came from Daeyoung’s end of the line, followed by a soft, almost disbelieving laugh. “I knew you would,” he said, and Riku could practically hear the smile in his voice. “I’m so proud of you, hyung.”

The weight of those words settled in his chest, warm and comforting. He had made it. After all the training, all the sacrifices, all the days and nights of pushing himself—he had made it.

“When’s your rehearsal over?” Riku asked, already eager to see him, to celebrate properly.

“I have another hour or so,” Daeyoung said. “But don’t wait up for me if you’re tired.”

Riku scoffed. “Like I’m sleeping without you tonight.”

Daeyoung chuckled. “Alright. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”

As they hung up, Riku tucked his phone back into his bag and exhaled, still riding the high of the moment.

He had done it.

He was going to the Olympics.

But he wanted to be with Daeyoung sooner than tonight.

He calls a taxi and gives the driver the address to Daeyoung’s rehearsal hall. It was a short ride, so Riku was sure Daeyoung would still be at rehearsal. The moment Riku stepped out of the taxi, he could already hear the faint echoes of voices and music coming from inside the rehearsal hall. 

His heart pounded with anticipation as he hurried inside, flashing the family pass Daeyoung had given him to the attendant at the front. The staff barely gave him a second glance before waving him through, and soon, he was making his way down the quiet corridors of the massive theater.

He had never been here before. With his own relentless training schedule, he had never had the chance to see Daeyoung practice. But tonight, after securing his spot on the Olympic team, there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

Slipping into the dimly lit theater, Riku kept his steps light as he moved toward the back row. He settled into a seat, eyes scanning the stage. The rehearsal was in full swing, the actors and actresses moving with a precision and grace that spoke of their experience. Their voices filled the space, harmonizing effortlessly as they acted out their parts.

These were professionals—people who had spent years refining their craft, dedicating themselves to the stage.

And Daeyoung was among them now.

Pride swelled in Riku’s chest as he thought about how far Daeyoung had come. From the quiet pianist who had never revealed his singing capabilities, to a performer standing on stage, commanding attention.

Then, the lights shifted.

A single spotlight illuminated the stage, casting a soft glow on the figure stepping out from the wings.

Daeyoung.

Riku sat up straighter, his breath catching as he watched his husband walk onto the stage with quiet confidence. His expression was composed, his posture strong. He delivered his monologue with precision, every word laced with emotion, drawing the audience into his story. Then, the music swelled, and he began to sing. In this setting, with the weight of the performance behind him, Daeyoung’s voice was something else entirely. It was powerful yet controlled, filled with passion and heart.

And then—

Their eyes met.

Even with the distance between them, even with the bright lights in Daeyoung’s face, he had found Riku. His lips twitched, the ghost of a smile appearing before he quickly masked it, staying in character. But Riku could see it—the slight change in his expression, the way his shoulders relaxed just a fraction.

Daeyoung continued his performance, his voice never faltering, his gaze drifting back to Riku as if drawn to him naturally.

Riku grinned, completely mesmerized.

Minutes later, the scene ended, and the director called for a short break.

Before Riku could even prepare himself, Daeyoung moved.

With a surprising burst of energy, he jumped off the stage, landing gracefully before jogging toward the back of the theater.

The other actors murmured in surprise, watching as he made his way up the aisle—straight to Riku.

And then, Daeyoung was there, wrapping his arms around Riku in a firm, warm embrace.

“My husband is going to be an Olympian,” Daeyoung murmured against his ear, his voice filled with pure happiness.

Riku laughed, feeling his heart swell. He pulled back just enough to look up at Daeyoung, his own grin wide. “And my husband is going to be this year’s next musical star.”

Daeyoung chuckled, pressing a quick, affectionate kiss to Riku’s forehead before pulling him into another hug.

Neither of them cared that they had an audience.

For this moment, it was just the two of them.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

The morning air was crisp, the first golden rays of sunlight stretching across the sky as Riku sat propped against the pillows, a steaming cup of coffee in his hands. The soft hum of the world waking up outside their home was familiar, comforting. From the window, he could see the trees swaying gently, their leaves illuminated by the morning glow. It was peaceful.

Years ago, if someone had asked him where he saw himself, he would have said—without hesitation—that he wanted to be on the Olympic team. That had been his dream, his ultimate goal, and now, he had achieved it. He would be competing in the next summer Olympics, representing his country with everything he had.

What he wouldn’t have said—because he never could have imagined it—was that he would be in an arranged marriage that turned out to be one of the best things to ever happen to him.

That he would be married to someone who loved him with a kind of devotion that sometimes left him breathless.

That he would have a home outside the city, a place far from the noise and the constant rush, where he could wake up slowly instead of being jolted into a routine.

That he would have Jelly, their precious dog, curled up at the foot of the bed, her tail wagging lazily when he shifted, as if sensing his thoughts.

That he would have Daeyoung.

His husband, who loved him with a quiet, steady devotion. Who put up with his tossing and turning at night, never once complaining even when Riku accidentally stole the covers. Who tolerated his strange eating habits, his pre-game rituals, his obsessive need to analyze every match.

His husband, who had an amazing voice and was about to take the world by storm as a rising musical star.

No, Riku had never expected any of this.

But he wouldn’t change a single thing.

As he took another sip of his coffee, he felt the bed shift behind him. A moment later, warm arms wrapped around his middle, pulling him back against a solid chest.

A soft sigh tickled his ear as Daeyoung buried his face in the crook of Riku’s neck, his voice thick with sleep. “You’re up early.”

Riku smiled, resting one of his hands over Daeyoung’s. “Just enjoying the morning.”

Daeyoung hummed, his grip tightening slightly, as if to keep Riku from slipping away. “Come back to sleep,” he mumbled. “It’s still early.”

Riku chuckled, setting his coffee cup down on the nightstand before turning in Daeyoung’s hold. He was met with a sleepy gaze, dark eyes still heavy with drowsiness but full of warmth.

Looking at him now, Riku felt that quiet, undeniable certainty settle deep in his chest again.

This was home.

He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to Daeyoung’s lips, smiling against them. “Okay,” he whispered.

And as he let Daeyoung pull him back down into the warmth of their bed, with Jelly shifting at their feet and the sun continuing its slow rise, Riku thought—

If this was his life, then he had won something even greater than Olympic gold.