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Soobin’s infatuation with bakery goods starts at a young age.
He’s 15, just starting his second year in highschool, when someone crashes into him in the hallway and accidentally steps on his glasses. Soobin’s past the age of crying—he’s a ‘big boy’ now—so he just calms the frantic freshman who’s bowing at a sharp 90 degree angle. In order to make it up to him, the younger male—his name is Kai—gives him a flattened roll of bread.
Soobin’s initial reaction to the toasted delight must have been comical because Kai reaches out to rub Soobin’s tummy affectionately. From then on, Kai brings enough bread for the two of them.
They sit at the secluded corner of the history wing during lunch time. It becomes their corner. Kai even marks the wall with their initials and Soobin startles at the blatant vandalism. But then Kai flashes him that small, innocent smile of his, eyes turn into endearing crescents, and Soobin relents. He goes so far as to draw a little heart next to the ‘SK’. (It’s the baddest thing Soobin’s ever done.)
His favorite type of baked good is a battle between bread rolls—because they remind him of Kai (well all sorts of bread do but rolls marked the start of their friendship)—and croissants—because Kai’s cute when he struggles to pronounce the word (even if Soobin struggles just as much, if not more). Kai’s favorite is egg tarts because, and Soobin quotes, “They look like mini suns!” Soobin thinks Kai shines bright enough already.
This follows through the next year.
Him and Kai grow somewhat inseparable, despite their friendship circle expanding. They grow close to a senior named Yeonjun, a junior named Beomgyu, and a sophomore named Taehyun, but remain attached at the hip with one another. The other three don’t pry, unless constant teasing counts.
Soobin doesn’t mind though. He lets them do as they please because so long as Kai remains by his side, everything else doesn’t matter.
Junior year is particularly stressful for Soobin. College is a pressing matter and Soobin has exam after exam, essay after essay, to focus on. He tackles a handful of extracurriculars, wanting to have his application stand out as much as possible. Eye bags etch themselves onto his skin almost everyday, creases form on his forehead and leave temporary wrinkles, and Soobin thinks he even gets a few strands of gray hair from the burdensome amount of stress.
Kai brings him solace. Like an orb of light to save him from the shadows, guiding him towards his escape, providing him comfort in even the darkest corners.
Every afternoon, when he’s cooped up in the library and highlighting what seems like half of each page, Kai is there with him. There’s no eating allowed in the library so Kai slips the boxes of bakery treats into Soobin’s backpack quietly. Later, they share them on the bus ride home or when they’re huddled up on one of their worn out couches.
Kai leans in one evening, biting onto the other end of the peanut butter toast hanging from Soobin’s lips. Soobin’s brain short circuits as he counts the lashes kissing Kai’s cheeks and even after Kai pulls back, chewing happily on the piece he’s ripped off, Soobin is left staring.
Kai laughs, it’s harmonious and reminds Soobin of summer’s warmth, but it dies down once Kai notices Soobin’s not joining in. “Bin?”
Soobin reaches up, removing the half eaten toast from his own lips, and places it on the forgotten plate. Kai’s watching him carefully, almost as carefully as Soobin’s watching him.
Shorter and shorter, the distance between them gets. Soobin’s hand reaches out to cup Kai’s cheek, the warmth of the latter’s skin burning his palm, and guides himself forwards until their noses brush against one another.
Kai gasps and had this been any other moment in time, Soobin might’ve chortled and cooed over the endearing action. Right now, however, Soobin’s got other things on his mind. Other things which he defines by leaning in and pressing his lips onto Kai’s awaiting pair. The heat returns, racing through his body and igniting every inch it reaches, until Soobin’s entire body burns with fire that yearns to be quenched by Kai’s lulling waves.
He silences every whine, whimper, mewl that evades Kai and grows bolder, drowning more and more passion into each kiss. Passion he didn’t even know existed, but had—had for a long time before Soobin finally realized.
This is what’ll ruin me.
When they pull apart, Kai’s pupils are dilated and his lips are swollen, but Soobin thinks he looks more beautiful than he’s ever seen him before. His hair is messier than usual, evidence of what had just gone down between them, and his cheeks are flushed a light shade of pink that makes Soobin ache with a need to kiss him.
“I,” Kai brings breathlessly and from the way his fingers fidget with the sleeves of his sweater, Soobin can tell he’s nervous. “I love bread.”
Soobin bites back a laugh at that and Kai looks offended, obviously thinking that Soobin’s ridiculing the courage he’s mustered up to confess. To reassure him, Soobin leans in and presses a doting kiss on the younger’s forehead.
“I love bread too.”
The others aren’t surprised when the two of them announce that they’re dating. Taehyun mumbles a ‘finally’, Beomgyu inquires about how it all went down, and Yeonjun wails about being single. (If Soobin sees Beomgyu flinching at that, he doesn’t mention it.)
“I really am surprised you had enough self control to last that long,” Taehyun mutters, grimacing when Soobin drags Kai onto his lap. “Every waking moment felt like you were seconds from proposing.”
“I don’t know how he didn’t see all the heart eyes Kai has been making at him,” Beomgyu adds on, reaching out to ruffle the mentioned boy’s hair.
“Are you kidding?” Yeonjun asks with a scoff, clearly amused by how flustered the couple under fire are getting from all the teasing. “Soobin’s oblivious to his own feelings, how would he have known Kai liked him back?”
“That’s true. Remember when he nearly cried because he thought Kai forgot to buy enough banana bread to share with him?” Beomgyu brings up, earning him a glare from Soobin. Soobin would’ve acted on it too, if it weren’t for Kai’s adorable curious eyes looking down at him. “You did what?”
Sheepishly, Soobin lowers his head until he can hide in Kai’s chest, tugging the boy higher up his lap and silently allowing the other’s to continue the story because he can’t.
“He doesn’t need me anymore,” Taehyun fakes a sob, mimicking Soobin with as much exaggeration as possible. “He’s growing up.”
Soobin’s humiliated beyond recovery, wanting the ground to open up and swallow him whole. (Preferably with Kai still in his lap.) But then Kai lets out that laugh again—the nostalgic one that reminds him of open fields and a breeze that satiates him from the blaze of the sun—and Soobin thinks it’s okay.
Soobin declares that he’s in love with Kai on his 18th birthday, after Kai plays the piano for him in secret and sings a song he’s written himself; it tells the tale of the two of them. How they’re each other’s summer.
Midnight strikes and the winter’s chill is anything but kind to them. However, with Kai hoisted up on the window sill and their bodies pressed against one another, Soobin can’t feel anything but warmth.
Kai’s mouth slots against his perfectly and Soobin is addicted; addicted and in love. His hands wander: up and down Kai’s sides, into his soft curly locks, over his thighs. His lips venture as well once Kai needs to pull away for air: kiss Kai’s round cheeks, kiss the sharp curve of his jawline, kiss down the inviting column of his neck. Kai writhes in his hold, soft noises of encouragement evading him as Soobin unravels him.
“I love you,” Soobin repeats with each sloppy kiss he lands on Kai’s scorching skin, teeth nipping away with the intent to mark—claim. “I love you, Kai.”
They’ve said this to each other before, but his stomach churns all the same when Kai returns his confession. “I love you too.”
It’s not enough, Soobin thinks as he lifts Kai up and places him gently onto his cotton duvet. Kai’s staring up at him, looking like a free falling angel, and Soobin indulges in the sin.
“I’m in love with you.”
Soobin gets into the prestigious university he’s been dreaming of since he’d first entered highschool and is rewarded with a surprise party.
Yeonjun boasts about it being his idea after Soobin’s done being an emotional wreck over it, Beomgyu argues that it was his idea just as much as Yeonjun’s, and Taehyun drags the two of them out the front door so that Soobin doesn’t have to.
Kai’s reward for him comes in the form of heated kisses and a forgotten movie playing in the background.
Later they lay together on Soobin’s bed and look out the window, squinting to see the stars that litter the night sky. Kai’s got bread crumbs decorating his lips, fingers still holding onto the last egg tart from the container he’d gifted Soobin.
(“Is this for you or for me?” Soobin had asked to which Kai replied with a chaste kiss on his cheek.)
Soobin finds himself staring at Kai more than the beauty that lies outdoors; that’s because Kai is more beautiful than anything else existing in his relatively dull life.
Every moment with Kai makes him feel like he’s soaring through the clouds or settling into cloud nine.
“Will you go to prom with me?” He asks without much thought. It’s a question that’s been bothering him for a while now, but he’s never found the right moment to ask. Now’s probably not the proper time either, but he can’t hold himself back.
Kai turns to face him, lips curling into that breathtaking smile that Soobin loves seeing.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Soobin gains Lea’s favor when he picks up Kai on the night of the dance. “You take good care of him,” Lea compliments as they wait at the doorway for Kai to descend from the stairs.
The image of Kai walking towards him, donning a black tux with the cutest bowtie, engraves itself into Soobin’s memories (and heart). Soobin can’t even manage to say anything at first, words forming jumbled sentences in his brain and noises refusing to push past his lips. He feels like he makes the same claim everyday: Kai’s the definition of perfection (and Soobin chases him like the moon chases the sun).
He’s so spaced out in admiring his lover that the corsage he’d bought for Kai becomes a lost thought until the latter clears his throat. “Any day now, handsome,” is the teasing remark that reels Soobin back into reality. Reaching out, he slips the accessory onto Kai’s wrist and watches as his date marvels at the pretty assortment of flowers.
It feels like an unspoken promise.
When they’re underneath the dimming lights of their school’s gymnasium, swaying to the music with their foreheads pressed together, Soobin dictates the promise.
His lips meet Kai’s gently while his hands, residing by the brunette’s hips, draw him closer. “Stay with me,” Kai pleads softly, probably thinking Soobin hadn’t heard him over the music, but the older male reassures him nonetheless.
“Forever.”
Summer washes over them like it always does: welcoming endless possibilities they can share together and enticing decisions made from the raw intensity of love.
They spend Kai’s 17th birthday in his backyard, surrounded by a blossoming garden and comforted by the rays of the sun. Soobin adjusts the flower crown they’ve crafted onto Kai’s head, admiring the way the younger wiggles his fingers underneath his chin to show off his cute appeal.
In a few months, he won’t be able to see this everyday, he realizes. The start of his academic year is coming closer and closer and his university is located in the states.
I’m going to miss you.
Soobin watches helplessly as Kai reaches for the last bread roll on the plate, only to grin when Kai splits it in half and brings it up to his lips. He parts them, allowing the shorter to feed him the treat, much to both their delights. It’s warm and tastes even better than before.
“Kai,” he calls out after they’ve finished snacking, brushing his thumb over his boyfriend’s lower lip. Kai’s lips puckers to kiss Soobin’s finger before he answers with a soft hum. “Have you decided what college you want to go to?”
Then, it feels like the world stops spinning on its axis. Soobin can no longer hear the birds chirping and even the wind shifts from calming to eerie. Kai’s smile drops, mirroring the way Soobin’s heart plummets into the depths of his stomach.
“I told you I don’t want to talk about that,” Kai whispers and then creases form on his forehead. Soobin doesn’t know why he’s bothered inquiring about this again when it always results in the same thing.
“I’m sorry,” he apologizes and he means it, but he’s still curious. He knows he should give the younger time but, “Why can’t you tell me though, Kai? Don’t you trust me?”
“I said I don’t want to talk about it!” Kai used to barely raise his voice, especially around Soobin, but these past few days, it’s become almost a daily thing. “Why can’t you respect that?”
“I just—” Soobin’s at a loss for words. His lips part but nothing evades them because he’s not sure what the right thing is to say.
“I don’t know, Soobin! Okay? Is that what you want to hear?” Kai throws his hands in the air exasperatedly. “I don’t know what I want to do with my life!”
Silence rests between them and Soobin’s heart aches as he sees the tears that collect on the corners of Kai’s eyes. He wants to reach out—wants to embrace Kai and tell him everything’s going to be alright—but for some reason, he can’t.
“I look into the future and I see nothing,” Kai admits quietly. The unshed tears fall, rolling down Kai’s cheeks in thick streaks. Soobin finally manages to move, fingers longing to comfort his lover, but Kai flinches and stands up. “Don’t. Just don’t.”
The week before Soobin’s departure for the states is packed and burdensome. He’s overwhelmed with the amount of packing he has to do, the amount of English he has to memorize, and the amount of visitors he has to entertain. It’s peculiar, he thinks, how nobody wants to reach out to him the entire summer until mere moments before he leaves.
“Is that all?” His father asks once they’ve finished packing the last of Soobin’s mandatory household supplies into one of the suitcases he’s bringing. He’s sitting on the other, trying to get the clothes to sink low enough for him to safely work the zipper. “Yeah, dad. Thanks.”
With that, the older man departs from the room and Soobin heaves a sigh, glancing up at the clock. It’s a quarter past nine, meaning that if he goes to bed now, he should have enough rest before his flight at dawn.
Soobin’s eyes drift to his phone by his bedside. Kai hasn’t texted him for hours, which is strange, given how clingy his boyfriend usually was. Minutes before he drifts off into a much deserved slumber, he messages Kai the daily, “Goodnight. Sweet dreams.”
When he wakes up, it’s five minutes to six and the first thing he notices is that Kai hasn’t texted back. It worries him, but he shrugs it off. Perhaps Kai had just been busy. They’re going to meet in half an hour anyways.
Before he leaves his room, Soobin steals the photo of him and Kai from the frame on his shelf, folds it twice and slips it into his wallet.
The nerves only kick in when he’s standing at the airport, ready to enter the terminal—at the same time anything but ready to do just that. He’s arrived an hour early, giving him forty minutes of leeway in case he gets lost and twenty minutes to kill. Kai arrives about five minutes after he finishes his calculations and Soobin finds it much easier to breathe.
“Baby,” he sighs, reaching out to tug the shorter male into his embrace. For the last fifteen minutes, he just wants to stay like this; he wants to forget about the world—about his worries and fears—and just remain blissfully still with Kai in his arms.
Kai doesn’t return the hug.
Soobin pulls back, albeit reluctantly, and searches for Kai’s gaze with his own. “What’s the matter?” He asks and that’s when he notices that Kai’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Your food got cold,” Kai mumbles and then it dawns on Soobin. He’d forgotten about his dinner date with Kai.
And you still came, Soobin stares at the brunette in disbelief. Even though Soobin had fucked up—royally fucked up—Kai had gone out of his way to send him off.
“Kai, I’m sorry.”
“You say that a lot nowadays.”
It’s true, Soobin’s not sure what’s gotten into him; he’s been making more mistakes than usual. He wants to blame it on the pressure that comes with travelling to a new country all alone, but Soobin’s responsible for his own actions.
“I mean it, I’m so sorry,” he repeats, drawing the trembling boy into his arms again and tucking his cheek against the latter’s crown. Kai had been so excited about finally trying the new sushi restaurant that had opened downtown and Soobin absolutely blew it.
“I ate your portion of the garlic bread,” Kai says with a weak chuckle. It isn’t a direct acceptance to his apology, but Soobin knows that he’s forgiven. His shoulders relax upon receiving that knowledge and he knows it’s selfish of him, since he doesn’t deserve Kai’s forgiveness, but he doesn’t want what may be their last moments together for a long, long time to be bitter.
The kiss Kai leans up to give him before he leaves has a message attached to it, but Soobin’s unsure of what that message is.
University is a painful reminder that life is a lot more cruel than it has been the past few years. Kai had made it bearable. Held him when he wanted to cry, kissed him when he felt himself crumble, but now all Kai could give him was texts and sporadic calls.
Hearing Kai’s voice is soothing, as always, but they barely manage to make time to call one another because of their hectic schedules and time zone differences. Soobin cherishes the little moments they share and carries on through the day with the promise of seeing Kai whenever their breaks align.
Soobin indulges in his love for bread. He thinks, a few weeks in, that maybe he eats too much bread. He can’t help it though, it’s the only thing that makes him feel close to Kai, as lame as it sounds.
Piles upon piles stack themselves in his dorm’s refrigerator. His roommate, a dance major named Jeno, inquires about it a few times out of concern, but Soobin never gets around to explaining it.
“You look tired,” Kai comments on one of their rare video call sessions. It’s about 4 in the morning for him, but this is the only time that Kai is free for a while. He’s finally started picking up the pace in terms of academics and extracurriculars, much like Soobin had done when he was in Kai’s year.
“Midterms,” Soobin replies. He sees Kai frown in concern and he wants to reach out, brush his thumb over the wrinkles appearing on Kai’s forehead, but he can’t. “I’m fine, baby. Don’t worry about me. How’re you?”
“I’m good! A little sore from the latest dance routine though,” Kai admits, stretching his arms and laughing. “I wish you could watch our performance.”
Soobin wishes that too—more than anything, actually. However, his midterms were relentless and because of that, he wasn’t able to work enough hours at his part-time job to afford a round trip to and from Korea.
“Oh, speaking of which, I have to go now, Binnie! Jisung and I are meeting up to rehearse our duet,” with that, Kai blows Soobin a kiss and then disconnects. Jisung, Soobin repeats to himself like he has been for a while, isn’t good news.
When he watches the recording of that duet, two weeks later, Soobin deems that Jisung is just not good news for him. The way Jisung and Kai dance with one another, the fluidity when they’re together, and the gazes they share—Soobin loathes all of it.
“How was it?” Kai asks him enthusiastically the next day and Soobin replies with a curt ‘good’. He can’t see Kai’s reaction, but with the way a silence falls between them, he knows he’s fucked up again.
“Okay, thanks.” Before Soobin can apologize for his childish envy, the line goes dead.
He wakes up the next morning to see Kai’s new post on instagram. He’s at an ice cream parlor, donning that yellow jacket he wore when Soobin had first met him. It’s a little smaller on him now, but he looks as cute as always. Soobin swipes his thumb across the screen and the smile on his face drops. The next photo in the sequence is of Jisung, who’s grinning cheekily at the camera, and the photo after that is the two of them standing in front of a mirror.
8:16AM.
did you have fun on your date?
8:20AM.
you’re kidding me right?
it wasn’t a date
8:21AM.
looks like it
wtv
have fun
8:23AM.
????
i was sad and he offered to hang out w/ me
gee i sure wonder why i was sad in the first place
lmao.
8:24AM.
why didn’t you just text me?
we could’ve talked it out
but you’d rather be with someone else
8:25AM.
can’t i have friends?? what the fuck??
you knew i was sad and you didn’t do anything about it
then you show up and accuse me of cheating?
8:27AM.
kai
okay
you’re right
i’m sorry
8:28AM.
dude
save it
text me when you’re done being an asshole
Soobin stares at his phone in frustration. It’s mostly because of himself, but for some reason he also discovers anger directed towards Kai.
“Hey,” Jeno calls out from behind him, effectively pulling him out of his thoughts. “Got an extra bagel from the dining hall. You want it?”
Soobin stares at the baked snack for a second and then shakes his head, not really feeling his usual craving. “Nah, I’m not in the mood.”
Not in the mood becomes more frequent and Soobin begins to find bread more and more bland. Sure, he’ll take a bite out of a strawberry jam toast every now and then, but passing by the bakery doesn’t make him feel anything anymore. It doesn’t mean anything anymore.
Kai asks Soobin if he’s done ignoring him—over something that isn’t even Kai’s fault, they both know this—and Soobin agrees, but nothing feels the same anymore. His replies to Kai get shorter, the time between messages grows longer, and everytime Kai squeezes him into his schedule, Soobin dismisses him with excuses. I’m studying when he’s really just on his phone or I’m hanging out with friends when he’s sprawled out on his bed, staring at the ceiling.
Life grows less colorful. Soobin tries to find something—anything—that’ll have his head spinning from excitement and his heart racing from adrenaline, but he comes up empty handed. There’s nothing to chase, nothing to long for—there’s nothing.
Kai’s instagram stories are full of more and more Jisung lately, but Soobin doesn’t feel that irritating sting of jealousy anymore. Initially, he thinks he’s maturing, finally being the boyfriend he should’ve been in the first place. Understanding, trusting, nonchalant.
Then Kai texts him frantically one evening saying that Jisung had kissed him. He hadn’t kissed back—he promises Soobin (and Soobin trusts him)—but it had happened and Kai spams his phone with apologies. And Soobin, who finds himself more irritated by the constant notification rings rather than the whole ordeal surrounding his boyfriend being kissed by another man, realizes something important.
He’s no longer happy.
“Why?” Kai asks him when Soobin calls to break up with him. He sounds like he’s minutes away from crying and Soobin swears his heart quivers because of it, but then deems it impossible. It’s impossible because—
“I fell out of love,” Soobin doesn’t beat around the bush. Kai deserves honesty at the very least, after how terribly Soobin has treated him the last few months.
There’s a pause and Soobin checks to see if Kai has hung up. The reply comes a beat after and it’s hardly audible—quiet and fading.
“I’m sorry.” And then Kai really does hang up.
Their summer dies.
Soobin lets out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding in, putting his phone aside and staring at the polaroids strung up on the wall above the headboard of his bed. He plucks down the photos of Kai, which happens to be a majority of them, and contemplates throwing them in the trash bin. Ultimately, he decides not to. One day, when they’re both friends again—if Kai ever forgives him—Soobin wants to come back and reminiscence.
Kai no longer texts him and that’s reasonable. Soobin doesn’t care.
The weekend following his break up, Jeno drags Soobin to his first college party. Soobin ends up spending the night with a boy named Felix. He’s pretty, has a button nose and dazzling freckles, and after five drinks in, Soobin drags him in for a makeout session that leads to more.
They don’t meet up again after that, probably for the best, and that becomes a trend. Soobin attends parties, gets drunk, chases after lust, and then acts like it never happens. Jeno starts telling him he regrets bringing Soobin over to the ‘dark side’, but Soobin never takes the concern seriously. Because it feels good.
He enjoys it. The thrill that comes with meeting strangers and sharing lonely nights with them.
Nothing changes long term.
Soobin doesn’t find that intoxicating happiness he’d experienced with his first love. School and his job weigh him down and one night stands become more of an addictive necessity than a fun weekend activity.
The small moments of euphoria Soobin feels when etching his name onto his partner’s skin with open-mouthed kisses is what he lives off of. The notion of owning and belonging is desirable, but Soobin doesn’t meet anyone he can see himself pursuing a relationship with. He’s not sure if he wants to.
Soobin’s captivated by the idea of love and the idea, alone.
Kai finally comes around to calling him about half a year after they’ve broken up. It’s almost time for him to graduate.
“Hey,” Soobin greets and Kai hums out a response. “How are you holding up?”
“Great,” his voice still sounds like heavenly, Soobin notes. “I’ve finally decided on which college I’m attending. Remember when you’d nag me about that all the time?” He does. That had been when they’d begun spiralling.
Kai sounds a lot more cheerful than when he’d last heard him, but then again, that had been when Soobin broke his heart. “How about you?”
“Good,” Soobin replies automatically, not having to think much about it.
“Stop lying,” Kai responds not even a second after and Soobin bewilders at that. “What’s wrong?”
Nothing’s wrong, Soobin wants to say, but it doesn’t come out. He doesn’t realize he’s crying until he feels his jeans moisten from the tears that drop off his chin. “I don’t know,” is the answer he gives instead.
“Soobin,” Kai’s using that tone, the one he used when Soobin was on the verge of tearing himself apart. “Breathe. Just breathe for me.”
One, two, three. Soobin inhales. Four, five, six. Soobin exhales.
Seven, eight, nine. Kai breathes with him. Ten. ‘I miss you.’
“Ah, I’ve got to go now,” Kai says and Soobin hums in acknowledgement. “Talk to you next time!” Before the call ends, he can hear Kai’s giggle and it rings hauntingly. ‘Stop, Jisung!’
Soobin falls back onto his bed. It’s Saturday. He’ll find a distraction in a few hours. Everything’s fine.
Everything’s not fine.
He’s downed eight shots, entertaining two upperclassmen girls with body shots as well. His mind is hazy but the one thing he does fixate on—the one thing he’s trying to forget, but becomes the only thing he can’t forget—is Kai.
Soobin brings back to his dorm a male—he thinks his name is Hyunjin—who’s tall, has dark hair that falls over his eyes, and a figure that feels nostalgic. His face is as attractive as every other physical aspect of his, but it looks nothing like Kai’s. Soobin avoids looking him in the eyes the entire night, only delving into the familiar physique.
When he wakes up the next morning, Hyunjin is already gone, much to his relief. He vaguely remembers embarrassingly calling out for Kai in the midst of leaving hickies on his company’s neck.
Soobin then catches himself looking through the polaroids in his drawer, catches himself hanging them back up, catches himself wishing he had the privilege to take more.
He’s lost. Once again, he’s cast into the shadows, but this time he can’t find an escape. He tries to make one, but digs himself deeper and deeper into the abyss that won’t free him.
This dull aching in his chest doesn’t seem to go away.
Summer is taunting.
Soobin starts hanging out in the bakery again and his frequency in doing so steadily increases. He doesn’t order anything—his love for baked goods was long forgotten by now—and instead, he opts to sit silently by the corner of the store. The smell is comforting and the wifi is good, so Soobin allows himself to bask in the relaxation.
Today the sun is particularly bitter, biting away at Soobin’s skin until he begins to perspire. The bakery sells a small selection of ice cream and other than vanilla, they were all the weirdest flavors. Avocado, ghost peppermint, sweet corn—
The door chimes and Soobin hears soft footsteps behind him. They grow closer and closer until Soobin catches sight of a stranger in his peripheral vision. He pays no heed, focused on choosing what strange flavor he’s going to torture his tastebuds with.
“Can I give a suggestion?”
Soobin’s eyes shoot up and his throat dries when he realizes he’s standing face to face with his forgotten season.
“Mint chocolate is pretty good. Wanna share?”
Soobin learns later that night, when he’s leaving possessive marks all over Kai’s body to make up for the time they’ve spent apart (not only physically, but also emotionally), that Kai has never seen anyone but him.
He feels guilty, but Kai reassures him that it’s alright.
Soobin had lost himself without Kai, but now that Kai’s here—writhing underneath him as Soobin dips his tongue into the younger’s collarbone—Soobin doesn’t have to face the unknown alone anymore.
And when Kai kisses him with certainty, letting Soobin know that he wants this as much as he does, Soobin follows his blinding light out of the darkness.
(Mint chocolate becomes Soobin’s new infatuation.)