NaniRomanov
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Daeyoung’s younger, but he’s not as oblivious as people seem to think he is.
He knows what the constant teasing means, as well as the fingers that always end up threading through his hair, or the head that finds itself on his shoulder. It’d be a falsehood to say that Daeyoung doesn’t feel it too. That pull towards Riku that can only be described as cosmic, pre-determined — fateful.
Bookmarked by NaniRomanov
07 Dec 2025
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Eiji watches as Ash slips farther and farther away from him.
"Come back," Eiji tries to say, tries to cry, tries to scream, but nothing comes out.
"It's not your fault,'" Ash says. "I know you tried your best. But you've always just been ... in the way. I tried to protect you, but I think it's better if we part ways."
"No, Ash—!" Eiji sobs, reaching out, but Ash is always just a little beyond his grasp. "Please, I—I'll try harder, I'll—"
... I love you, Eiji thinks, helplessly, as Ash leaves.
Eiji wakes with a start.
He has to try harder.
Eiji has nightmares of Ash leaving.
Bookmarked by NaniRomanov
24 Oct 2025
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And then Harua kissed him.
Right there, under a half-broken streetlight with moths orbiting it like little chaotic moons. Not long. Not dramatic. Just a closed-mouth kiss that landed soft and sure and a little tired. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for anything. The kind that stayed.
When they pulled apart, Taki rested his forehead against Harua’s, breathing slow. “God, I’m going to remember this when I’m seventy.”
“I’ll remind you,” Harua said.
or
Harua and Taki walk home from a party, come across a beach, and talk about growing up.
Bookmarked by NaniRomanov
23 Sep 2025
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Harua let out a breath, not quite a moan, just a sound of reluctant surrender. His mind drifted again, absurdly, to the fact that he'd left his phone charger in the car. And that the car had been parked crooked in the driveway, and he was sure the neighbors had noticed. He pictured them whispering about it in their kitchen: that boy, he can't even park straight.
"Stay with me," Taki whispered, as if sensing the detour. His voice was ragged, forehead pressed to Harua's stomach, eyes closed like prayer. "Don't think about—whatever. Just me."
Bookmarked by NaniRomanov
21 Sep 2025
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Donghyuck pushes the CD he's picked into the slot just under the radio dials and turns the volume up. “I made this mix last summer,” he says. “Burnt it onto two CDs. Do you remember? I gave one to you.”
“I remember,” Mark says. His copy is protected, neatly, in a case under his bed. “Why is one of them here? Is it yours?”
Donghyuck nods. “Special edition, one of only two ever made.”
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Bookmarked by NaniRomanov
25 Aug 2025