Archive of Our Own

it’s a shout that startles them, loud and tinged with acid, which creeps down the corners of the art director’s voice as he motions wildly with his right arm. the room immediately falls silent, with the once-prevalent clicking of buttons and loud, shuttering noises quickly fading out into nothing.

soobin swivels around, and the heel of his boot scuffs against the floor. someone sharply inhales, taking a single, violent breath. there’s bits of dull chatter too, coming from the corners of the room— soobin thinks he can hear his hair stylist’s distinct-sounding giggle— that soon stops. even those that are the last to notice end up joining in as the room collectively takes a pause, an unspoken agreement of sorts.

“kang!” though the shriek doesn’t, booming throughout the largely empty, concrete-walled set instead. all that extra space only serves to amplify the art director’s call. taehyun is wincing as he takes a tentative step in the man’s direction, tongue captured in between his two rows of teeth. everyone has the decency to look away, and the director’s complaints aren’t anything they all hadn’t heard before. soobin allows himself to exhale a little bit, lets his shoulders fall.

soobin’s eyes find their way to yeonjun like clockwork; yeonjun’s own are trailing taehyun for a moment or two longer than necessary, until they’re not. the two of them exchange a glance, and soobin wonders whether or not yeonjun is even aware of the way his eyes have narrowed by the tiniest bit.

it’s something that would be largely invisible to anyone but soobin, who was the one that got to see yeonjun closest; he’d spent far too many moments tracing the older boy’s features: wide, cat-like eyes and pretty, plush lips. soobin knows he’s good-looking, and while he’s perfected the art of abusing his dimpled smile, he thinks yeonjun is something else in its entirety. yeonjun oozes charm, and that cocky, cool confidence that soobin found equally parts off-putting and attractive during their first meeting. but as soobin would soon learn, choi yeonjun was a winner, and one of the two sentiments eventually tipped the scale in his favor.

yeonjun is familiarity; soobin knows him like the back of his own hand. he’s a constant, woven through the nooks and crannies of soobin’s life story. soobin equates everything to him: how his heart pulses slow, feels sticky sweet like honey & jam. there’s an ever-present warmth in between the crevices of his ribcage, a persistent flush to his cheeks. traces of yeonjun’s influence can be found in every direction in which one looks when it comes to soobin, and they’ve been intertwined like this for years now. soobin knows what to do.

a squeeze at yeonjun’s hand is all it takes for the older boy to relax, for his eyes to soften around the edges. his are pools of amber from the contacts the two of them had to shove in a few minutes before walking out on set, the ones yeonjun had helped soobin with, perching himself on soobin’s lap in the process.

yeonjun’s hands were hot, the brush of his thumb soft, and he had stolen a kiss from soobin’s lips after finishing. yeonjun only climbed off when someone audibly cleared their throat, and his smile was sheepish, but not regretful in the slightest. soobin loves that about him.

soobin and yeonjun are nowhere near surprised when the supposed one-minute break turns into six, and yeonjun takes his phone out midway through, tapping away at some mobile game that he’d been quite fond of lately. there are a few people hovering around him— makeup artists fixing his lip gloss and assistants that don’t make any move to leave, even after they’ve wrapped up their tasks and finished reiterating their goals. yeonjun has always had that effect on people.

soobin is of course no exception to this rule; he stands just a few feet away, waiting by until the crowd disperses so that he can swoop in. but he can feel yeonjun’s eyes on him before it even happens, and it makes his insides feel molten, hot and liquid gold. soobin’s hand naturally falls to yeonjun’s waist, who preens into the touch. they stand like that, and comfortably so, as the interruption to their shoot is drawn out.

he and yeonjun were good at this, at getting lost in their own little world, even when all eyes in a room were otherwise locked on them. it’s a testament to that old saying, that practice makes perfect.

kang taehyun was not initially a part of that equation, absent from the years of meticulous practice, the routine that yeonjun and soobin had formed, the world they had built together, until he wasn’t. bursting onto the scene, soobin rediscovered what it was like to have his breath taken away. kang taehyun left him in awe.

yeonjun too, evidently, because when taehyun finally escapes the clutches of the art director and a few frantic assistants, yeonjun’s eyes are trained on him again. taehyun’s lip is still caught between his teeth, only the tiniest bit chapped around the edges. his eyes are steely but his hair is mussed, like he had been running his hands through it, as he so often had the tendency to do. visibly, taehyun is just the slightest hint of frazzled.

soobin is sure that his eyes are questioning when they meet taehyun’s, but taehyun just shakes his head lightly. he’s mouthing the word later and both yeonjun and soobin seem to accept that; they don’t have much of a choice though, not when taehyun goes right back to preparing and someone else is loudly calling for the next shot to be set up. yeonjun and soobin snap up and into place. they’re puzzle pieces, and know how to slot together in a way that works; they just fit.

it’s may when the two of them first meet taehyun. soobin is still holding the contract he and yeonjun had just penned when he hears about the big-shot intern who will be on set with them from the poorly-hushed whispers of a few members of the makeup crew. they soon find out, and firsthand, that taehyun is there for good reason.

taehyun is poised, passion swimming in his eyes from the very moment he enters the room. he’s twenty to yeonjun’s twenty-three, soobin’s twenty-two. he had just moved to seoul from daegu, and he’s the real deal. taehyun is skilled with a camera in his hand, and without, too; he speaks with the conviction of someone who knows exactly what he wants, and moves with enough grace that soobin thinks taehyun could slide right into his spot up front and no one would bat an eye.

still, behind the camera is where taehyun chooses to shine, and soobin catches yeonjun examining the monitor during a touch up that they do on that first day, listening to their manager speak with the director about the photos that had already been taken.

“he’s good,” yeonjun whispered, eyes bright. soobin had hummed, a smile playing its way across his face. it’s undeniable; taehyun is more than gifted. his work is insane.

the two of them call taehyun over at the end of the shoot; it’s something they like to make a habit out of doing. soobin had been in the industry since he was twelve, yeonjun since sixteen, so they are both more than acquainted with its ruthlessness.

taehyun is polite but nonchalant with his first few responses, that yes, he’s adjusted well enough to the new city, and that he goes to a local university not more than thirty minutes away. there’s a camera bag slung over his shoulder, ending at his hip. his demeanor is impossibly endearing. yeonjun asks how he’s getting home.

“oh, i’m just going to catch the bus,” taehyun glances down at the watch strapped to his wrist, brown leather and gold metal accents. “how about you two?” he asks, and somehow, it doesn’t sound like an afterthought. taehyun’s voice is rich, his eyes emotive.

soobin meets yeonjun’s gaze. the two of them share a silent exchange, and an agreement of cute slips out, hanging in the air between them.

it’s soobin who speaks up afterwards. “we could give you a ride, actually. our car is parked right out front.”

taehyun’s rocks back on his heel, hands fiddling with the strap of his bag. his expression is ever steady, calculating, as he opens his mouth. he’s nothing if not strikingly observant. “you don’t have to— i wouldn’t want to impose.”

“don’t worry, it’s no big deal,” yeonjun pipes in. his eyes are shining, a sight that soobin has become well accustomed to but still makes sure to admire every single time. “we’re going to be working together for a while! let us do you a favor.”

“we might as well get to know each other. plus,” soobin adds, smile fond. he tilts his head in a way that he knows is irresistible; yeonjun says it makes him look adorable. he only uses it when motivated. “it’ll be nice to have someone around our age on set again. our nail artist moved back to japan last month, but she was yeonjun hyung’s age and our favorite person to gossip with during shoots.”

someone snaps a tripod shut. the elevator dings, low and subtle, and they’re all still standing there, two pairs of eyes locked on the youngest boy, who bites his lip and almost flushes at the attention.

“if it’s not too much trouble?” taehyun answers, and it sounds more like a question than anything, but yeonjun is already backing up towards the stairwell and soobin kindly offers to carry taehyun’s bag. taehyun keeps it anyway, but he follows them down two flights of stairs until they’re at yeonjun’s red convertible, and he’s hesitant in the new situation until he’s not. taehyun somehow maneuvers himself into sitting cross-legged on the backseat. he sings along to soobin’s playlist of girl group tracks, indulges them in a few college stories when they ask, and his giggle is melodic and sweet. soobin is immediately endeared; taehyun is the kind of boy who people want to be friends with immediately, and soobin is again no exception.

yeonjun must feel similarly, because an offer for taehyun to come out to lunch with them after their next meeting easily flows off of his tongue. yeonjun’s smile is big and bashful, and soobin feels something in his heart swell when taehyun nods, closing the car door with quiet goodnight wishes before disappearing off into his dorm building.

the ignition starts up once again when yeonjun turns the car back on with the tap of a button. it slowly hums to life and soobin feels like he has a head of fog, like everything has stilled. he thinks of chestnut brown hair and soft, doe eyes, the hint of a dimple that he had spotted on taehyun’s right cheek.

yeonjun takes the aux cord out of soobin’s hand with a certain gentleness as to not startle him. his playlist of choice that day is filled with electropop and yeonjun lets his hand fall over soobin’s after the music starts, his thumb brushing at soobin’s knuckle. the gesture is domestic and comforting, ever characteristic of them.

yeonjun waits— he is thoughtful in even the smallest of ways, waiting until soobin has had a second before he begins to drive off. soobin mouths the lyrics to yeonjun’s songs— he has heard them all too many times to not know the words— and watches everything pass by as they go: the brick dorm building, shrubs lining the sidewalks, an iron gate sitting at the edge of the property. it’s new knowledge that soobin slots into place, things that go hand in hand with taehyun’s entrance into their lives.

—

yeonjun is what most would call a prodigy. modelling comes like second nature to him; yeonjun oozes charm and always knows the right way to hold his chin or square his shoulders or cock his hip. part of this can be attributed to a natural gift of sorts, but soobin knows better; yeonjun is meticulous and dedicated, strong-willed in a way that can lead to contempt from others.

yeonjun’s spotlight is blinding bright from the very beginning of his time at the agency, when he is seventeen and practically on top of the world; soobin is sixteen then, and his light is dimming fast. soobin knows it, and from the meeting he gets called into with his agent and his mother, everyone else knows what’s happening too. soobin, their once-golden boy, simply wasn’t cutting it anymore, so yeonjun is signed to their team and that is that. he is their shiny new toy and soobin is shelved for the foreseeable future.

soobin and yeonjun’s first impressions of one another are disastrous, to say the very least. they manage to fall together anyway, only with time. it’s one month into his employment when yeonjun finds soobin curled up on the bathroom floor of the office, and yeonjun sits with him until he’s calm enough to talk, until soobin gets over his embarrassment at yeonjun being the one to see him break.

“i feel like i’m invisible,” soobin had laughed wetly, a sob bubbling up in his throat. “no one is looking at me anymore. it sucks.”

yeonjun listens until soobin is cried-out and finished talking. he places his hand on soobin’s shoulder, and the feeling is grounding, until yeonjun speaks and promptly shakes a sixteen-year-old soobin’s world.

“soobin, if they’re really looking away, they’re crazy for doing so.”

yeonjun pauses, licking his lips unconsciously. “but i don’t think anyone’s eyes ever left, ever left you. how could they?”

“it’s more than just about your looks, soobin, you know this. you have it. it’s why you’ve been here for so long. you’re the one that the interns talk about in the hallways, the one that the moms gush about in the waiting room,” yeonjun smiles, beginning to mimic their comments. “that choi soobin is so handsome! and well mannered too, what a nice boy. it’s no wonder he’s on all those covers.”

“they talk about you too, you know,” soobin adds in. he’s too speechless to say much else; the fact that choi yeonjun would be the one to slide down the wall and say these things to him almost felt unfathomable. soobin was sure yeonjun had heard a few of the biting remarks made about him in the canteen the week prior, but the older boy’s eyes are kind, lacking any traces of malice.

“and why do you think i barely hear them? probably the same reason that you take note of what they’re saying about me,” yeonjun’s voice is firm, but the smile on his face is good-natured. soobin is surprised by how relaxed he feels, even with the cold, teal-colored tiles digging uncomfortably into his back.

“it’s natural for us to be competitive. i mean, i want the covers and big shoots too; it’s why i’m here. but i do think that it’d also be nice to have a friend here, and i think that maybe you need one too.”

soobin is silent for just a moment too long after that. yeonjun’s face shifts once a few seconds have passed, and he hesitates, like he’s going to stand up, but soobin darts his hand out without thinking, grabbing onto yeonjun’s wrist. they both pause, and then yeonjun is looking at him, soft but expectant.

“wait, i’m sorry. it’s just,” soobin laughs, and he’s still a little breathless. “i mean, god, i think i should be starstruck or something. people are swooning over you. you’re choi yeonjun.”

he bites his tongue. “i’m sorry again. i haven’t really been the nicest to you, and i was clearly jealous, but it was still wrong of me to say those things, so i’m sorry. i’d like that though, if we could be friends.”

yeonjun’s lips stretch into a big smile at that. “don’t worry about that, it’s alright. i used to be jealous of you too, you know? my old agency wanted me to get on your level so bad, bad enough that i had to study your magazine covers and then copy your poses, style, everything,” he snorts.

“i was so young and angry then, angry at the idea that they didn’t believe in me. i thought that listening to them would be a waste of my time, if i’m telling you the truth, but it was one of those things that eventually fueled something inside of me. i just wanted to get better and prove everyone wrong, and well, i guess i’m sitting here right now,” yeonjun finishes with a grin. “and they were great by the way. your covers always look fantastic; it definitely helped to look at them, even if i resented doing the work at the time.”

“we’ll make each other better,” soobin says, and he doesn’t know where he gets the confidence from, but the unbridled joy and sincerity written on yeonjun’s face keeps him going; the older boy is an open book. “it’ll be healthy competition for us, or something along those lines.”

yeonjun chuckles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “i think so too, but that can wait for now. we should get out of here, before they start looking for us. i haven’t finished my coursework yet and i don’t want my teacher or my mom to give me an earful.”

yeonjun jumps up and extends his hands, so soobin takes them graciously, pulling himself upright. the washroom’s door swings back open when they finally peel themselves off of the ground, and the two of them walk through the halls with yeonjun chattering to fill the space. lunch is catered that day, soobin can sit with him if he wants. it’s different but soobin agrees anyway, and meeting up for lunch with yeonjun, who is equally as receptive to food as he is to words of affirmation, becomes the norm for soobin quickly enough.

their initial agreement had been to become friends, but few things concerning the two of them could ever remain merely casual. they soon grew attached at the hip, and soobin found that with time, some of his old luster began to return. it felt nice, however terrifying it could be at times, to have someone who really cared.

their friendship starts toeing the line of turning into something more eventually, and soobin feels like he was the last to know about his feelings in retrospect— the eyes of his older sister were knowing far before his own were. but then soobin knows, and it’s all he can think about, so soobin curls his fingers in the collar of yeonjun’s denim jacket one night and asks him, sincerely, if he could take him out sometime.

soobin had then trained his eyes on a patch of skin on yeonjun’s throat, scared to make eye contact and lose all of the courage he had mustered up. but yeonjun’s hand went right back on soobin’s shoulder, resting there just like it had when soobin was sixteen, the two of them sitting timid and uneasy on the washroom floor.

yeonjun’s other hand quickly slips into soobin’s own. he turns their fingers upwards and presses their palms flush together in one swift motion, and maybe it’s then that an eighteen-year-old soobin realizes how much the two of them have grown since the beginning.

“i like you so much, it makes me crazy,” yeonjun had told him, the toe of his boot digging into the curb. standing on a public road, the commotion of the late night traffic is nothing more than a faint hum in the background, the noise overlain by the pounding beat in soobin’s own eardrums.

yeonjun is bold and beautiful, and he kisses soobin on a row of stone steps when they’re waiting for a taxi to take them back to the train station after their first date. yeonjun tastes like strawberries and soobin finds the sugar on his tongue to be addicting, making him dive back in one, two more times.

their lips are still locked when the cab arrives five minutes later. it honks and the two of them stumble backward, cheeks flushed in mild embarrassment.

falling in love young was a tricky thing. they had taken a break midway through their four-year relationship, but always managed to find their way back to one another. their relationship was easy even when it was not, and at its foundation, they would always be best friends. soobin trusted yeonjun with his life and then some.

naturally, it’s yeonjun that soobin goes and talks to first. because they’d hung out with taehyun six times since he first started working with their team, and soobin felt seventeen again, things blossoming in his chest for a boy he had basically just met. he finds it almost inexplicable but so, so right nonetheless.

it’s the little things with taehyun. at lunch, he scrapes the bell peppers off of his dish and gives them to whichever of yeonjun and soobin is hungriest that day. he orders caramel macchiatos because he thinks most other coffee drinks are too bitter, and cringes when he takes a sip of yeonjun’s espresso one morning out of ill curiosity, when he had gotten far too little sleep the night before in favor of working through assignments. he will sometimes leave dinner early to squeeze in a workout before bed, and he teams up with soobin to steal spoonfuls of yeonjun’s ice cream, to the older boy’s abject horror.

taehyun complements them so well, and soobin loves it, loves the little things that he brings to their world. taehyun brims with life and enthusiasm, and it makes yeonjun buzz underneath his skin, makes soobin shine a little brighter. soobin finds the feeling intoxicating.

taehyun offers up his instagram the first time that yeonjun asks for a way for them to all stay in touch, right after one of their meetings had just wrapped up. the two of them conveniently leave out that they had already checked out the page when taehyun scribbles it down on a scrap of paper from his bag.

“i’m glad your plan worked,” soobin had draped himself around yeonjun’s shoulders afterwards, a teasing grin on his face. “it’s nice to finally have his number.”

“oh, shut up,” yeonjun grumbles, staring at the note as if it had personally offended him. there’s still a smile creeping its way across his face though, warm and affectionate. “how cute. i think we should keep him around,” yeonjun teased back, as if he hadn’t just bought taehyun lunch twice that week, despite the younger boy’s futile attempts to protest.

soobin thinks about how badly he wants that too. he wants to see taehyun again, wants to see him every day of his life, and soobin’s always been rather good at getting what he wants— yeonjun a prime example of such— but something about this felt unattainable. like taehyun himself was unreachable, like this was the one thing that soobin just couldn’t have because it was too much.

while they do get taehyun’s number eventually, it takes yeonjun having to outright ask for it, and taehyun had laughed when receiving soobin’s cell phone to hastily type it in.

“you could have just asked,” taehyun laughs, tapping away at the screen. his smile shows off his pearly white teeth when he hands the phone back to soobin and takes his leave from the studio, off to catch a train.

their phones buzz in tandem forty minutes later, a new group chat in their pockets. it’s active every day from then on, changes to their schedule tucked between fervent rants and song recommendations. they make plans to watch the newest action movie on the first weekend it comes out, and soobin laughs so hard after opening a meme taehyun had sent one time that he dropped his phone flat on the wood floor, denting the side of his case.

going to find yeonjun and soobin turns into going to find yeonjun, soobin, and taehyun. during breaks, the three of them sit in the small alleyway behind whichever building they’re working out of for the day, sipping on bottles from a case of beer that yeonjun had procured out of a staff member earlier that morning. the project manager’s assistants find them like that, taehyun’s legs haphazardly swung across soobin’s, yeonjun’s hands lazily running up soobin’s back. they’re all teeth and dazzling smiles, giggles caught in the back of their throats as the assistants herd them inside with faux exasperation, sending them back to work.

soobin likes the way yeonjun and taehyun look together. it stirs something hot and liquid in his stomach, the way they fit together so snugly. yeonjun has his arm slung around taehyun as they walk back inside, the two of them parting from soobin halfway down the hall to go and talk to a few executives who had requested their presence. soobin watches them go, a fond smile on his face.

soobin wonders if, if he asked, he and taehyun look like that too: like they would fit. like all of them would.

it’s dusk when soobin talks to yeonjun about it. they have an off day, and the television in their living room is playing some bad sitcom, the kind yeonjun likes and soobin pretends not to, but usually finds himself intrigued by eventually. streams of orange and pink filter in through their windows, the rays getting lower in the sky with every passing moment. yeonjun is impossibly close, his chest pressed up against soobin’s back and their legs tangled together.

yeonjun’s touch is warm. he’s summer sunsets and the type of quiet intimacy that soobin loves to fall into after a rough day. he’s a pillow, a blanket of comfort. to soobin, yeonjun is home— soobin knows that he’s safe when with him.

“what do you think about taehyun?” soobin asks out of the blue, during one of the drama’s particularly boring scenes. soobin’s voice is delicate in a way that’s uncharacteristic of him, but yeonjun doesn’t comment on it, just chuckles and continues running his fingers through soobin’s hair. if he’s startled by the sudden question, he doesn’t show it.

“the same taehyun we have lunch with almost every time he comes to the office? he’s sweet,” yeonjun’s response comes so easily. yeonjun was one of those people who loved and loved and loved, who always had room to let people in. soobin knows he’s one of those people, knows he’s that lucky.

yeonjun continues fussing with soobin’s hair, his touch gentle. he’s waiting for soobin to say more. soobin is silent for a bit, shifting his position on the couch and breathing deep until the words finally collect themselves.

soobin knows it shouldn’t be hard. he and yeonjun talk freely— soobin knows about the pretty boy from yeonjun’s dance studio that enrolled six months prior, and yeonjun knows about the cute barista that asked soobin out last month.

they were secure in their relationship, unbending in their faith and loyalty to one another, but they were open— always open— about everything. whether it be the test he just failed, or a new recipe he had discovered, or someone he had taken a slight hint of interest in, soobin naturally told yeonjun about it all. he would never take this for granted, how willing yeonjun is to communicate.

“he’s pretty. really pretty,” soobin eventually admits, trying to keep his tone as even and as casual as he can. his face grows hot nonetheless, but yeonjun doesn’t keep him waiting for a response for very long. yeonjun’s smile is sweet when he presses a kiss to soobin’s forehead, whose eyes immediately flutter shut at the motion.

“i agree with you, you know? taehyunie is really pretty,” yeonjun replies, his voice taking on a light, happy ring. it’s another reminder to soobin about just how lucky he is to have such an understanding boyfriend.

“hyung,” soobin swallows. “i love you so much.”

“soobin-ah, i love you too. of course i do,” yeonjun swipes his fingers underneath soobin’s eyes, and the action is so tender, it makes soobin shudder. “you’re okay.”

“i think i might have a crush on him,” soobin confesses. he breathes slowly this time, in and out through his nose.

“taehyun is easy to fall for,” yeonjun says. his smile becomes more toothy, and there is so much certainty, so much meaning in his voice. “you’re not alone, soobin-ah.”

“i know, hyung,” soobin echoes, and he means it. he’s never been alone, not with so much love surrounding him. it’s yeonjun at his side and taehyun curled up at his feet in the waiting room, yeonjun’s loud laughter and taehyun’s tendency to hum every melody he hears. when he’s with yeonjun, with taehyun, with the both of them, soobin feels whole. he basks in it.

—

soobin had grown up hearing all of the mantras, the ones about not mixing business and pleasure. he and yeonjun were never good at following that rule, evidently enough. but as the end of the summer nears, and taehyun becomes all but a daily, permanent fixture in the office, soobin knows that he’s done for.

“coffee?” soobin’s eyes are questioning when the secretary dumps a tray in his hands, but she just shoos him off with a rushed smile and nod before attending to the phone, which kept ringing mercilessly. soobin almost fumbles the tray, but manages to steady himself just before yeonjun is walking through the glass doors, shoving a set of car keys into his back pocket. he raises an eyebrow at the drinks in soobin’s hand, one of which soobin is examining up-close with wide eyes.

“taehyun bought us drinks,” soobin answers flatly, almost bewildered. he’s afraid that if he lets himself be any more emotive, he’ll shatter on the spot after spotting a tiny star drawn next to his name, which he finds hopelessly adorable.

yeonjun’s eyes widen at that, taking the cup of americano that soobin passes him. it’s still hot to the touch and yeonjun wraps his hands around it, savoring its warmth amid the cool, air-conditioned lobby. “well, he’s successfully wooed us.”

soobin delivers a swift hit to yeonjun’s arm for the cheeky comment, eagerly scanning the remaining cup in the tray. as he suspected, there’s a star and a tiny doodle of a bunny written out underneath his name. taehyun’s handwriting is small and neat, like he traced each stroke with the utmost of care, and soobin wants to physically melt.

soobin doesn’t remember exactly how all of this started, but what he does know is that yeonjun gifted taehyun a grey trench coat that had grown too small for him one day, and there were a bundle of yeonjun’s favorite pens waiting for him at the office the next. when soobin had bought taehyun a pair of earrings to congratulate him for passing his summer exams, he had received a small package of sticky notes with cartoon animals in the corners, the kind he liked to leave all over his workspace.

soobin thinks he knows what led to the coffee as well: a text he had sent last night, one cushioned between numerous messages where he had been helping taehyun choose what kind of take-out to order to his dorm. an off-hand mention that he and yeonjun would have to stay late at the office— they had a meeting with their manager that would surely run overtime— and now his hands were laden with cups of coffee.

the three of them are put into a joint conference room later that day. taehyun’s fuzzy cardigan is littered with polka dots, and there’s a hint of bronze shimmer on his eyelids. soobin doesn’t know if he wants to kiss or coddle him more, but he figures they’re not mutually exclusive things, especially not with the way yeonjun’s gaze lingers, flushing when taehyun does glance their way.

taehyun holds both of their gazes, looking more than pleased. he winks and yeonjun’s cheeks get even pinker— if that’s possible— out of embarrassment at being caught staring. soobin and taehyun’s eyes lock when yeonjun’s dart back down to his phone, and taehyun’s hold a spark that is so endearing. it feels intimate, and soobin wonders if he’s too old to have butterflies.

soobin can’t miss a chance to tease yeonjun though, so he leans over when taehyun goes back to shuffling through his bag and whispers right in yeonjun’s ear. yeonjun half-whines at this, the noise caught in the back of his throat, silent enough that it’s not audible to anyone else.

yeonjun’s cheeks are still a pretty shade of pink, but he gets up when their bosses let them go for the day and compliments taehyun’s makeup so sincerely that taehyun links their arms and asks if yeonjun wants him to teach him how to apply some. yeonjun’s enthusiastic nod only further flatters taehyun.

they walk like that for a minute or so, with soobin lazily trailing a few feet behind the duo, until he hears one of them promise to put him in lip gloss and he’s pulled right into the line, taehyun instinctively looping soobin’s arm through his own.

the coffee is brought up again at lunch the next week, when taehyun brings them to a cafe down the street where his roommate huening kai works. kai is tall with fluffy brown hair and ethereal features, and his laugh is even louder than yeonjun’s but still musical in nature.

after the three of them have sat down, kai immediately walks up and wraps his arm around taehyun, looks yeonjun and soobin dead in the eye, and gushes about how taehyun forced him to hand over the sharpie marker that they use to write on cups so that he could personally do it. taehyun’s expression is full of feigned exasperation as kai speaks, yet his smile is poorly concealed; it’s obvious that they’re best friends.

kai eventually leaves when their food is ready, but his impact is still evident even with him gone: yeonjun smirks and soobin smiles so big that his dimples show. taehyun just passes yeonjun his bell peppers wordlessly, like clockwork, and soobin pretends not to notice when they both steal some of his fries.

soobin can’t imagine his life without this anymore; he has grown used to soft eyes and incessant chatter, to smiles that widen so much that they’re a little blinding, and to numerous pairs of hands that wander, seeking another to hold.

when yeonjun darts his hand out to steal his third fry from soobin’s plate, soobin slaps away the offending hand and glares hard. his expression sends yeonjun and taehyun into hysterics, both of their bodies shaking from how hard they’re laughing.

soobin can’t pinpoint where this all started, when weekly lunches turned into daily occurrences, when hints of their relationship becoming something more started appearing, and when feelings grew as strong as they did, but what he does know is that he’s lucky. he’s lucky to be surrounded by so much life and so much love. he wouldn’t have it any other way.

—

there is a yellow paper gift bag perched on taehyun’s usual seat in the office a few days later. soobin watches from across the room and tries not to be obvious about it, but he wants to see taehyun’s reaction— they had made him cookies. it was originally soobin’s idea, and yeonjun had done a good chunk of the actual baking, being more skilled in the kitchen than soobin would likely ever be, but soobin had helped out where he could and earned a few kisses for his efforts. it was a happy medium, as things between them often were.

taehyun meets soobin’s eyes right after he opens up the bag, and soobin’s smile quickly turns sheepish for being spotted so quickly, but taehyun looks touched, and that makes it all worth it.

taehyun pulls soobin away from the rest of the staff when given the opportunity, the bag of cookies in one hand and his camera still slung around his neck. taehyun looks resolutely determined as he drags them over to the rows of benches next to the elevator, thrusting the tupperware container filled with cookies into soobin’s hands as he sets his things down. he insists that they share.

“i already had some!” soobin protests, quickly moving to explain when taehyun raises an eyebrow at the way his voice pitches. “we just wanted to make sure that they were edible.”

“comforting,” taehyun snarks, voice dripping with sarcasm, but he opens the lid and takes out two of the cookies anyway. he hands one to soobin, who only eats his after taehyun tries them first. the younger boy’s eyes widen for a split second after doing so, his lips curling up at the corners.

“these are good, hyung! definitely edible,” taehyun beams, picking off another piece to eat. his eyes almost roll back in pleasure, taehyun humming as he takes a bite. “you and yeonjun hyung made these together?”

soobin rubs the back of his neck in slight embarrassment, laughing to himself. “that’s one way to put it. i mostly just stirred what hyung asked me to.”

taehyun snickers at that. his hand falls to soobin’s thigh, and the smile on his face is in no way judgemental. “i can’t cook either. making anything other than ramen is outside of kai and i’s skill set.”

taehyun pauses, tongue poking out from in between his lips and pupils focusing down at the cookie for a second, before he looks back up at soobin. “these are really good though. can i have the recipe? i think beomgyu and hyuka will probably end up stealing most of these when i bring them back to the dorms.”

soobin accepts the second cookie that taehyun offers him, pursing his lips and chewing thoughtfully. when he swallows, he wrings his hands together, resting his chin on top of them as he peers up at taehyun.

“you should come over,” soobin starts, liking the way that taehyun’s expression remains completely focused, steady as ever. “we can teach you. yeonjun would probably be more helpful for that, but i do have a pretty good collection of movies. we could put one on as we bake.”

“it sounds like it’d be a lot of fun,” taehyun smiles, and it’s sweet like the desserts they’re sharing, full of sugar and promise. “i’d love to.”

so it’s settled, and that night, yeonjun makes a big show out of opening the doors all wide for soobin and taehyun as they enter his car. yeonjun’s taste for cliches is precisely why he doesn’t get to choose their movie for the night, as soobin and taehyun are the ones to find themselves kneeling before the shelf of dvd’s. soobin lets taehyun sift through them, and taehyun eventually picks one that they’d both seen a couple of times but didn’t mind rewatching.

soobin angles the tv so that the three of them can see it from the kitchen, and they briefly lose the remote after tossing it on the counter with the rest of the ingredients that yeonjun had taken out. yeonjun, with his never-ending flair for the dramatic, takes the whole ordeal way too seriously and soobin and taehyun have to stifle their giggles as they watch him meticulously explain what to do. yeonjun whines when the two of them sit on the kitchen island but soobin and taehyun are still diligent students when incentivized, so their cookies turn out a tad bit bland but still good nonetheless. yeonjun rolls his eyes and ruffles their hair when the two of them chirp words of thanks, putting them on cleanup duty anyway.

they soon move into the living room, all splayed out between their one couch and a loveseat that sits in the center of the space, still eating the takeout yeonjun had ordered earlier and their batch of cookies.

if there’s anything that soobin has had the fortune of learning, it’s that love comes with zero plans. more so, love would break plans, making things uncertain until something shifts and they’re not so uncertain any longer.

it goes a little something like this. the drama that they’re watching contains a karaoke scene, and soobin mentions offhandedly that it’s what he misses about college the most: late nights at a noraebang with his friends, drinking the cheapest soju they could find and eating fried foods and belting out old songs to their heart’s content.

it’s a sentiment that yeonjun immediately agrees with, and before soobin can throw in one of his typical jabs at yeonjun’s age, taehyun pipes up.

“i haven’t been to one since my first year of high school,” taehyun admits, and at their incredulous looks, he elaborates. “i used to work at a restaurant, and my boss wanted the entire waitstaff to go. i did end up going, but i didn’t know anyone that i was working with too well at the time so it wasn’t that much fun, and i just never got the chance to go back.”

soobin, again, insists that taehyun come with them next time. there’s something comforting about things that are familiar, about what is well-known— it’s why nostalgia is such a powerful emotion. soobin has always yearned to find security in something, and he does. he does many, many times— it’s in the spices of dishes from a thai restaurant that he’s been eating at since he was little, in between the shelves of the library he visits every month, in the same karaoke box that he and yeonjun rented whenever they needed a night out. and while change wasn’t always something that soobin welcomed with open arms, he has learnt with time to find good in what is new as well.

taehyun’s head in yeonjun’s lap, his feet tucked underneath soobin’s thigh. the saying that people are a mosaic of everyone they’ve ever loved rings true; soobin thinks he’s begun to open his heart a little more, learnt to be a little firmer and more assured. he’s never considered himself to be crazy brave, but he’s grown more willing to do things where a risk is involved, because he wants this— he wants it so bad.

there had been a moment in the kitchen, when he and taehyun were watching yeonjun crack a few eggs, waiting for their next directions from the oldest boy. soobin had then spun around, ready to crack a joke to taehyun, but unbeknownst to him, taehyun had already turned that way, and their faces were close enough that soobin could feel the warmth of taehyun’s breath ghosting across his jaw.

soobin’s first kiss went something like that too— he had been fourteen when a classmate stumbled and leaned close and kissed him on a picnic bench. it wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t anything particularly spectacular either. soobin had kissed a good handful of people since then, mostly in high school, sometimes with strings attached and other times when they were not.

every other experience that soobin had paled to those he shared with yeonjun— yeonjun kissed tender, slow and skilled. with yeonjun, it never got old, never failed to stir something dark and magical in soobin.

taehyun’s lips were plump, his chapstick berry-toned, and the sharp elegance of his features from up-close gave him a picturesque quality. soobin could feel the energy pulsing through him, sparks flowing from the pads of his fingers to the tips of his ears.

soobin hadn’t closed the gap. maybe there had been something in the air since that point, rum and vanilla cream rich. the noraebang invitation hangs there for a moment, and the silence isn’t uncomfortable, just patient. it’s when taehyun presses subtly, gently, in his eventual response that motion returns to their world.

“we’d like for it to be a date,” yeonjun is the first to answer, and his voice is steady, words full of weight. taehyun gazes back up at him in earnest, eyes flickering over to soobin for a split second before returning to yeonjun, who doesn’t shift in his seat as if to try and not jostle taehyun’s head, which is still perched on top of his legs. “it doesn’t have to be, of course. only what you’re comfortable with, taehyunie.”

“will you go on a date with us, taehyun?” soobin asks, and in full, because he figures it’s what taehyun deserves— taehyun deserves the very best, the grand gestures and tiny snippets of romance scattered in between, and to be asked out properly.

he and yeonjun say goodbye to taehyun at their front door. soobin hands taehyun his camera bag and yeonjun pulls him into a hug, and taehyun’s cheeks are rosy by the end. he’s grinning too, bright and beautiful; he’s a boy of sunshine and soobin wants him to be theirs so bad. the fact that they now have a chance to make that happen has soobin smiling as well.

“i’ll text you,” taehyun affirms when he’s almost out of the door, half out of habit and half with new, underlying intent hidden in the glimmer of his eyes. “goodnight, hyungs.”

yeonjun and soobin watch until taehyun disappears down the stairs— taehyun pauses after the first flight, sending the two of them one more smile before leaving their field of sight, and it’s only then that yeonjun shuts the door, clicking the lock into place.

yeonjun leans against the door, both of his hands behind the small of his back. he’s biting his lip and soobin knows; he can see the glee painted all over yeonjun’s face, clear as day. he looks as eager as soobin feels.

“come on, hyung,” soobin coaxes, threading their fingers together and squeezing yeonjun’s hand as he begins to pull him down the hall. “we have a reservation to go make.”

—

true to their word, the three of them go to a noraebang one week later, with karaoke being their first date. soobin was all of eighteen the last time he went on one, so he ends up sitting on his and yeonjun’s shared bed, almost frozen as he stares down at his dresser. he doesn’t touch a single piece of clothing for a few minutes.

yeonjun finds him like that, and his laughter rings throughout the room as he brushes at soobin’s waist, trying to bring him back to reality.

yeonjun helps soobin pick out his outfit, digging through the drawers until he finds a few pieces that soobin had bought but stashed away because he didn’t have the right place to wear them to. they’re nice, and yeonjun tells soobin as much as he swipes a hint of blush on the apples of soobin’s cheeks, applying some lip stain on him as well. soobin laughs when yeonjun swivels him around in their desk chair, finally letting him look in the mirror.

“do you like it?” yeonjun asks, gnawing at the corner of his lip. he’s never put makeup on anyone that wasn’t himself, and even was hesitant to do so for soobin considering his own lack of experience, but soobin puts his hand on yeonjun’s leg to still it and smiles, ever sincere.

“yeah hyung, i do,” soobin nods. “you did a great job. thanks for the outfit, and for the makeup.”

soobin glances down at himself before looking back in the mirror, and his voice softens. “i feel really pretty. you’re amazing.”

“you’re the prettiest, bin,” yeonjun affirms, pressing his lips to soobin’s forehead. “taehyun will agree— i’m sure of it. you can relax, beautiful.”

soobin decides to follow yeonjun’s advice. when yeonjun finishes getting himself ready, the two of them clamber into the car on their way to go pick up taehyun, and soobin chooses to meet the younger boy near his building. through the glass doors, he spots taehyun exiting the elevator, who smiles and jogs out a little faster.

“you didn’t have to come get me,” taehyun’s voice is light when the door closes behind him, and soobin gently knocks their shoulders together, giving him an eye smile.

“i wanted to— yeonjun did too, but he parked out front, so he stayed with the car. follow me.”

the music that yeonjun has chosen for the car ride is soft, tracks from some indie band he had recently gotten into. the conversation flows out calm and easy, and soobin is more than pleased with how natural it all feels, his nerves forgotten.

the spirited melodies take them through the fifteen minute drive to the noraebang yeonjun and soobin now frequent— it’s one of the better ones in their neighborhood. it quickly becomes clear upon their arrival that they’re all incredibly competitive, almost to a fault. and yet, despite the fact that soobin had been to this same karaoke bar at least twenty times before, this time is by far the most fun he’s ever had. by the end of it, soobin’s cheeks hurt from laughing for so long, his head leisurely placed on taehyun’s shoulder as they watch yeonjun wrap up his final song.

taehyun ends up garnering the highest score, the last song he chose being an old shinee track that he knew almost flawlessly. taehyun gloats as soobin turns to clean up, their time slot coming to an end, and when soobin dusts off the table, he notices that yeonjun and taehyun’s hands are locked together, resting on one of the couch cushions.

yeonjun is rattling off stories from his time in middle school choir, and taehyun is listening with rapt attention, giggling every so often. they look so content, and soobin revels in their joy— he knows he’s radiating just as much enthusiasm.

when yeonjun walks up front, ready to pay for their time, he and taehyun are still holding hands, not having let go yet. the doorway to the street is narrow, but when they’re on the sidewalk, yeonjun puts his hand in soobin’s too, linking the three of them and suggesting that they go get dumplings. the restaurant that they end up at is tiny but quaint, and the head chef is so enamoured with their kindness that she gives them free edamame and colas.

they drop taehyun off just as the clock nears midnight— he had a presentation to give the next day, and they didn’t want to keep him out too late. the car is largely quiet as they pull into the parking lot, right underneath one of the bright, yellow-colored street lights placed on the edge of the pavement.

taehyun unlocks the door, and yeonjun and soobin hop out with him when he makes a move to exit. the three of them pause by the front of the car, taehyun’s fingers clutching his thin jacket and yeonjun’s resting on the hood.

taehyun is the first to gather his final words. “again, i had a great time. thanks for taking me out tonight.”

“of course,” soobin drawls, and yeonjun quickly voices his own support. “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now. we should go out again sometime, if you’d be up for it.”

“sounds like a plan. i’ll be looking forward to it,” taehyun agrees, nodding along happily. he pushes himself up on his tiptoes, rests a hand on yeonjun’s shoulder, who he is standing closest to, and plants a kiss on yeonjun’s cheek before doing the same to soobin. their fond, almost dazed smiles make taehyun giggle, and he leaves for his dorm room with the single beep of a scanner and the slamming of a side door.

it’s a picture that becomes more and more prevalent as the weeks go on. all three of them come together, and it’s achingly simple, good in all the ways that makes soobin glow a little more, a little stronger.

the street lamps blare across the concrete, white light tinged with hints of orange, whenever yeonjun’s car pulls in late at night. it’s here, after a work meeting, that taehyun kisses the two of them for real. taehyun’s lips meet soobin’s with enough fervor that it makes soobin’s knees buckle ever so slightly, and as he and taehyun kiss away the blush on yeonjun’s cheeks, soobin realizes that he wouldn’t mind living like this forever.

it’s a sentiment he shares with taehyun a couple of weeks later. the three of them had gotten home from riding bikes together that evening, and while yeonjun had gone to bed almost right afterward, taehyun and soobin continued to text in the groupchat until taehyun had called soobin, claiming to be too tired to type out his thoughts any longer. soobin laughs at the rare whine to taehyun’s voice, pressing the receiver closer to his ear and telling the younger boy to go write his essay.

taehyun immediately bluffs, but soobin takes the bait anyway, their conversation topic switching to the plot of a new tv series before an invite for the three of them to go watch the sunrise someday slips out from taehyun’s mouth.

“it’s pretty,” taehyun mentions, yawning as he speaks. it makes soobin want to coo at him. “sometimes when i can’t sleep, i’ll go up on the roof and watch the sun come up.”

“we’ll plan for it,” soobin smiles. “we can go to the pier if you’d like. it might look even nicer from over there.”

taehyun hums in response. “there’s no rush— you’d have to get up early, and i know that the both of you have been super busy lately.”

“i don’t mind,” soobin shakes his head, and thinks of yeonjun, who’s curled up in their bed right now, knowing that he wouldn’t mind either. “it sounds fun.”

“only if you’re sure,” taehyun laughs, and soobin rolls his eyes.

“we’d wake up in a heartbeat if you wanted us to, taehyun. anything for you,” the words flow easy like water off of soobin’s tongue, and as taehyun stills on the other end of the line, soobin registers that it’s vaguely a love confession. he keeps going with it.

“yeonjun hyung wants to take you everywhere— do not tell him that i was the one who told you this, but he has a list of all these places he found that he thinks would be good for dates. and i,” soobin pauses, feeling the words out. “maybe this is selfish, taehyun-ah, but i want to spend every day with you. we both do.”

“well, then it’s good that we want similar things, isn’t it?” comes taehyun’s reply after a beat. he laughs and chokes almost simultaneously, like there’s something caught in the back of his throat. “god, you two are— god. you’re unreal.”

“you have class in the morning, hyun,” soobin points out, and his voice is tender, laced with affection. “get some rest, love.”

“i will,” taehyun agrees, and there’s a clicking noise in the background, the sound of a light being switched off. soobin smiles at that.

when the call ends and soobin finally crawls into his bed an hour later, he’s listening to a song that taehyun had sent to the groupchat earlier that evening, before yeonjun had gone and dozed off. soobin clicks it offhandedly, letting the quiet percussion noises wash over him— sending each other the music that they had recently been listening to became something of a habit for the three of them.

the first verse plays and soobin laughs quietly to himself to avoid waking yeonjun up, feeling something tug at his heart. it’s fitting, and soobin falls asleep with the soft, electronic melody echoing in his head.

is it alright to feel this way so early?
and in my blood, all the sweet nothings.
fallin’ in love overnight.

—

the arrival of september follows their seventh official date and comes with lists of new responsibilities that are seemingly endless. the show falls on the third week, and everyone is scrambling to complete their last minute jobs before then.

yeonjun and soobin occasionally pick taehyun up now on the off chance that he doesn’t have a class before he has to come in, and the three of them will grab some breakfast or coffee and trade kisses in the car. yeonjun has to physically peel soobin and taehyun away from their emails a couple of times, but they always oblige and move to fiddling with the radio instead. work can wait, soobin decides, as taehyun gushes about a camera that he’s been saving up for, his eyes glistening.

their office building is old, so it takes a bit for the elevator to reach the thirteenth floor, long enough for yeonjun to pull taehyun in by the belt loops of his jeans. yeonjun tucks a lock of hair behind taehyun’s ear, leans in and presses their lips together, slow and sweet. soobin can look at them forever— it’s a sight that never gets old, and it never will, not with the way yeonjun cups taehyun’s jaw and they both melt into each other, almost boneless. yeonjun quickly swipes his tongue across taehyun’s bottom lip, and taehyun laughs, breaking the kiss for air.

“come here, hyung,” taehyun coaxes soobin over from where he’s standing to yeonjun’s side, and who is soobin to deny taehyun anything, especially not when taehyun looks at him like that, expression still blissed out. taehyun’s eyes are sparkling and he tastes like the tangerine he had just eaten in the car, sweet and tangy, lips pillowy soft. it’s a dizzying sensation that soobin drowns in for those few seconds.

the elevator pauses when it reaches the right floor, getting ready to open, and taehyun slings the strap of his bag over his shoulder a little more firmly. they go their separate ways down the hall, and soobin knows that his lips are a little spit-slick, glossy and a clear indicator that he had just been kissed, but he gives everyone who stares for a moment too long a polite smile and just keeps on walking.

yeonjun’s hand is still in soobin’s, the older boy’s fingers rubbing along the nape of soobin’s neck. it serves as steady comfort that makes everything else pale in comparison— soobin is happy, and to his delight, little else matters when that is true.

it’s never been something that soobin has felt compelled to hide, having two boyfriends. yeonjun and taehyun are wonderful, and soobin is ridiculously proud of them, having grown to appreciate the both of them so very much. the force of his love is almost startling at times. it comes in waves, and there are ebbs and flows to it, but it’s all about adaptability. soobin thinks that maybe the test of a good relationship is one that can evolve with time.

and they do. it’s not without the occasional mishap— september is hard. they’re all swamped with large tasks and little time to complete them, and it initially puts a strain on everything in their lives, their relationship included. yeonjun is a bit more impatient, soobin less forgiving, and taehyun a little more explosive with his temper. they disagree and get angry. their fights begin with unspoken requests for space, doors that are newly locked, and texts that go unanswered. still, their fights often end by nightfall.

the cup in front of yeonjun is filled with passion fruit tea; taehyun has chamomile. they sit around the dinner table and make compromises, agreeing to try. the three of them fall back together like this, and it works. they make sure of it, and are willing to listen, willing to be better. they brush away each other’s tears and rub each other’s knuckles and make up like this— gentle and with intent.

it hits soobin a couple times, that they’ve built something that little is strong enough to ruin. car rides at dawn, lunches at the outdoor balcony at noon, walks at dusk, and movies at midnight. time never feels like it’s against them, but they rush to fill it anyway. it’s thrilling, what they have. soobin jumps in headfirst.

the day of the big show finally arrives. yeonjun’s skin is glittering gold, and his mesh top accentuates his arms and torso in a way that makes soobin’s head feel made of cotton, like it’s full of bubbles from the soda he had downed the previous day, all fizzy and the sensation is almost numbing.

soobin pulls yeonjun close before they’re set to get their makeup done and kisses him deep, their bodies shrouded by a rack of clothing or two. soobin tells him good luck and yeonjun’s smile is so big, so adoring as he brushes his fingers along soobin’s skirt that they melt together again, stealing chaste kisses until they’re ultimately pulled apart.

soobin never remembers very much from shows— it’s almost like he goes on autopilot, his brain flipping a switch to turn off the conscious parts. taehyun later tells soobin that soobin met his eyes while on the runway, and soobin can’t specifically recall doing so but he’d believe it— they’re so well connected, soobin thinks that he could find taehyun anywhere.

this is what he does remember; they do find taehyun, he and yeonjun both, after they finish up the show. he’s holding two bouquets in one of his hands, standing right outside of their dressing room, and yeonjun runs up to him shamelessly, soobin quick to follow. taehyun laughs when they all but collapse in his arms, lightly pushing the both of them away before pulling them close and whispering words of praise that have yeonjun buzzing in excitement, and soobin has never felt this full of love before, has never felt so utterly complete.

taehyun hands them the flowers, daisies and baby’s breath. his eyes are shining bright, and when yeonjun kisses him, they almost trip over taehyun’s camera bag while backing into the wall, the three of them dissolving into giggles soon afterwards.

soobin is peppering taehyun’s face with kisses, the three of them back in the dressing room by the end of the evening. their hands are locked, pinkies intertwined, and yeonjun helps soobin take his makeup off with a couple of wipes, his movements slow and tender. taehyun can’t stop humming the music from the show, and soobin mentions a new restaurant that they all agree to go visit.

yeonjun is the one who makes the call, securing a table for them. his side is pressed against the wall, and his voice is low, speaking in sentence fragments that soobin listens to leisurely while letting taehyun run his fingers through his hair. it’s nice, getting to wind down like this.

“yes, in about an hour or so,” yeonjun echoes, glancing over to where soobin and taehyun are sitting. he winks, opening his mouth to speak once again. “three, a table for three.”

“alright, thank you. take care,” yeonjun finishes up, turning off his phone. he shoves it into the back pocket of the jeans he had hastily changed into, flopping down on the couch and announcing that they have a reservation. yeonjun’s legs tangle with soobin’s and they all lie there for a bit, unmoving. they take a moment for themselves and soobin has never been more glad to be a part of three.

the sky is orange, and their ride to the restaurant is energetic. it’s not until yeonjun removes the key from the ignition and the car dies that they go quiet. yeonjun and his bold features, glowing sincerity, and constant enthusiasm. taehyun and his doe eyes, sharp tongue, and undying compassion. the two of them never fail to leave soobin in awe— they are all but perfect, and he gets to hold them tight.

“i love you two,” soobin says softly, his eyes trained on the center console. soobin can feel their gazes on him, the bright beam of their smiles. it makes him feel alive, how the same words sound on their tongues.

soobin has never known this kind of love, not before them. he takes the plunge anyway, and it’s something he cherishes more and more every single day.

this, soobin muses, when they all meet each other’s eyes and there’s something intimate and gentle about the simple action, something indescribable— this is what it means to love and be loved.