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Have you ever had red bean ice cream? Listen, listen, it’s amazing, right? It tastes exactly the way it looks, a dusty rose pink with dots of washed-out burgundy. A sweet taste that never lingers long enough for you to get tired of it. It treats your tongue delicately, unlike green apple or pineapple. The small chunks of beans frozen to perfection, its mushiness disguised by the texture of the ice cream itself.
In short, it's very palatable. And one of the best ice-cream flavours.
But that’s not Beomgyu’s point. His point is Taehyun, whose face is currently half-hidden by his laptop screen. His room is dark ― although to Beomgyu it doesn’t seem so, since both of them have their devices turned on, illuminating their little occupied area on the bed.
Taehyun’s glasses perch low on his nose, reflecting the slowly increasing lines of words against a white document as he types. His lips purse sometimes, opens sometimes, and he zones out to think at certain points.
Then, his eyes are directed to Beomgyu.
“I’m getting distracted. It’s your fault,” He huffs, closing his laptop. The room is significantly darker.
“I didn’t do anything!” Beomgyu throws a hand up, the other one holding his phone as it rests on his chest. Taehyun takes off his glasses and puts them on his bedside table.
“Right, like you don’t look at me like that every time you want a hug,” Taehyun says, making himself comfortable as he situates himself under the blanket. Without Beomgyu needing to tell him what to do, Taehyun wraps his arm around his waist and pulls him close.
“Oh, you angel. Always taking care of me,” Beomgyu teases, a hand reaching out to pet Taehyun’s hair, to which the younger tries to bite it in retaliation. They laugh, and Beomgyu turns off his phone, deciding to give all his attention to Taehyun tonight.
For a minute, they lie in comfortable silence, enjoying the warmth radiating off of each other as Taehyun leans into Beomgyu’s fingers carding his blond locks.
“Did you brush your teeth?” Beomgyu asks softly.
“An hour ago. Pay attention, hyung.”
“I’m paying attention right now,” Beomgyu giggles, burying his nose into Taehyun’s hair.
High school Beomgyu and Taehyun wouldn’t be this way, as surprising as it may sound.
Somehow, Beomgyu ended up with Taehyun as his tutor for chemistry class. Let’s just say that it didn’t go so well.
“I’m here, I’m here! Sorry for being late,” Beomgyu says loudly into the library. He receives a hissy shushing sound from the librarian, with her finger pressed to her mouth and everything. Quickly, Beomgyu apologizes and darts his way down the library to a Taehyun with his head in his hand.
“I know I’m like, half an hour late,” Beomgyu slumps into his chair after he slams his textbook onto the table, eliciting another chorus of shushes. Taehyun looks like he’s about to die. Or maybe Beomgyu’s the one about to die, from the way the boy is glaring at him. “But… hey! I’m here.”
“Was wondering if you were asking your coach to teach it to you,” Taehyun mumbles, audible enough for Beomgyu to hear. Something similar to a glow stick cracks in Beomgyu’s insides.
“I said I’m here now, what’s your problem?” He shifts uncomfortably in his seat. Don’t tell anyone, but he’s been trying to stand up for himself a little more these days, as much as his nerves tell him to cower.
“Nothing,” Taehyun says, brushing it off, only igniting Beomgyu’s irritation further. They go through the tutoring as usual, however way that usual defines itself.
They’ve never clicked. Taehyun seems to live on a different wavelength compared to Beomgyu’s.
Nothing so far has let them see eye-to-eye, whether it be favourite TV shows(Taehyun doesn’t watch action dramas), struggles with sleeping schedules(Taehyun sleeps much earlier than Beomgyu, which seems to be his problem, which really shouldn’t be), or daily fashion choices. The other day, Taehyun had fussed about how Beomgyu’s attire isn’t suitable for late autumn.
“You’ll never understand freedom of self-expression,” Beomgyu had said dramatically, pushing up his black sunglasses, shaped like cats. No, seriously, its shape looks like a sitting cat. He found it on Amazon the other day and―
Anyways, Taehyun works out way too much. Beomgyu wouldn’t have expected it, at first glance he just seems like a scrawny nerd, but that’s only because he’s never seen the boy in short sleeves, much less a tank top.
“There’s such a thing as working out way too much,” Taehyun says, back when they begrudgingly ate sunflower seeds together during a break from studying. “But I barely work out four times a week. Just say that you’re lazy and go.”
“Okay, fine! I’m playful,” Beomgyu flings a piece of seed high up into the air, and Taehyun scolds him for littering before it lands onto the grass around them.
“I thought I said ‘lazy’.”
“And you’re too uptight,” Beomgyu cracks another seed in between his teeth.
“Okay, we’re done with this,” Taehyun says, gathering up the shells scattered across the table, courtesy of Beomgyu.
“See what I mean? Uptight.”
That earns him another glare.
It’s spring now. They’ve had this push-and-pull for about half a year, and it’s never fallen into a place where it feels nice enough to stay.
Yet, their constant banters aren’t awkward or unwanted. It’s only natural that it happens whenever they meet. At least to Beomgyu, he sees it as a challenge.
His meetings with Taehyun increase when it’s announced that his club ― Literature ― and Beomgyu’s club ― Baking, don’t look at him like that, he signed on the wrong forms ― are going to collaborate for the annual school festival. Oh, you know, where they open different events in every classroom and open booths in the hallways. It gets cramped up real quick.
Last year Beomgyu heard Taehyun won the event in the field, sponsored by the sports club. He was the talk of the school, and the teachers desperately wanted to sign him up for a sports school, but Taehyun denied it to pursue his career in literature. Beomgyu doesn’t even know what literature people do. He hopes Taehyun fails at it because it sounds silly.
A meeting takes place for the collaboration, set in one of the classrooms. More specifically, Beomgyu recognizes this as Taehyun’s classroom, the one with squiggly green lines painted on the walls. What bad taste.
Beomgyu is the last to arrive at the meeting, already regretting his decision to go to the toilets(he ended up going for a number two, unplanned). Voices spill out from the classrooms into the hallway, and deep down he resigns at the fact that he has to stand at the back because the chairs will all be occupied.
And to no surprise, it is. All the members from both clubs are crammed into this one space, having to accommodate by borrowing chairs from other classrooms or sitting on tables. Beomgyu chews on his lip as he enters. He hates standing during meetings.
Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blond head of hair. Lo and behold, it is Kang Taehyun, sitting in the very back at his own desk. What a luxury! Nobody shares a table or seat with him ― it seems that he’s established that it's his own spot, and only his.
Taehyun’s glasses blind Beomgyu for a moment, reflecting the light from outside before it clears out. Their eyes meet.
Taehyun scrutinises him, a little judgmentally, Beomgyu might add. Then, he inclines his head to the side, chin tilting up.
Beomgyu turns his head, trying to see who Taehyun was calling. He doesn’t find anyone.
Taehyun pinches the bridge of his nose, before making a beckoning gesture with his hand.
Beomgyu points to himself.
Taehyun nods with a pained look.
He must be dreaming. That must not be Taehyun.
He walks towards the boy anyway.
Taehyun scoots over in his seat, not even sparing a glance at Beomgyu. What’s Beomgyu supposed to do with… this? A couple inches of chair. He can either sit at the very edge, or touch Taehyun involuntarily. But it’s quite the bargain, he won’t have to stand around for half an hour―
“Take a seat, everyone!” The literature club’s teacher’s voice booms through the class, effectively silencing everyone, including Beomgyu’s contemplation. In a second, two hands are tugging on his arm, forcing him to land his ass on the seat Taehyun had offered him.
“Ow,” He hisses at Taehyun, who already has his head turned to the front.
“You were taking too long.”
The meeting proceeds like this :
The teachers assign the members positions for the collaboration.
Taehyun squirms in his seat, allowing more space for Beomgyu.
The clubs argue about fees for their event.
Taehyun’s hand accidentally touches Beomgyu’s and he immediately flinches away.
The annoying chairman of the literature club keeps giving long-winded, dramatic, self-absorbed speeches.
Beomgyu is irritated by Taehyun’s constant fidgeting and holds his hand to stop it from clicking his pen over and over.
Too long, Don’t read; Beomgyu doesn’t know jack shit about what they were talking about. So, he asks Taehyun, his oh-so-lovely tutor, who seems reliable enough to focus for him.
“What are we doing for the event again?”
The corner of Taehyun’s lip twitches in distaste. “A confession booth.”
“A what?”
“They called it that, okay. It’s just a booth where anyone can choose sweets to go with a small poem made up on the spot, so they can send it to someone they like.”
“Ew.”
“I know.” Taehyun nods with his eyes shut.
So that’s what they were arguing about before the fees. About how the art and the sweets combined would cause the price for every confession to be very high, and not everyone wants to drop ten bucks just to score a date. Taehyun said he would, which is a complete shocker.
In the end, they just decide for the poems to be copy-and-paste, not like anyone will show their personal confession to anyone besides their crush. Everyone is satisfied with the decision.
A day before the event, a.k.a preparation day, half of the literature club floods the Home Economics room. Everyone else is doing their own tasks ― mixing batter, washing equipment, or just lying on the floor on their phone because they’ve been kneading bread the whole day.
Beomgyu finds a Kang Taehyun hitting his hip against his own as he’s kneading cookie dough.
“What are you doing?” Beomgyu grumbles, pushing him away with his floured-up hand. Taehyun dusts it off annoyedly.
“Stealing some cookie dough,” Taehyun says, and that’s when Beomgyu notices a spoon in his hand, ready to dig into the large bowl nearby.
“I thought you’d be more worried about getting salmon-ella or something,” Beomgyu purposely separates ‘salmon’ from the word. Just as he’s about to put away the rolling pin, the cold metal of Taehyun’s spoon taps against his lip. “Brat,” He says, before accepting the mouthful of choco-chip cookie dough.
“Ugh. Where’s the sink?” Taehyun waves his spoon with a disgusted face.
“You did not think that through.”
“It’s all your fault.”
“What did I do!”
Preparation goes well. As well as it can be, with Taehyun picking on Beomgyu every five seconds, and Beomgyu picking on Taehyun every two seconds.
“I thought you only need one cup of sugar.”
“Cups are a social construct.”
“Everything is a social construct, yet you think you’re good-looking.”
“I am good-looking! And cups don’t exist.”
“Your face doesn’t exist.”
“I swear to god, I’ll throw this egg at you―”
“Are you guys dating?” Hueningkai speaks up from his side of the long table. He’s in charge of decorating cakes, hence the spot of purple icing on his nose.
“No!” Beomgyu retorts, and Taehyun lets go of his hand on Beomgyu’s waist.
“Oh, sorry,” Kai goes back to smoothing out icing on his little cake, small enough to fit a lunchbox. Not thirty seconds later, he squeals out of the blue.
Taehyun raises his eyebrow, pausing from pouring flour into a measuring cup. “What’s up with that guy?”
“He’s just like that, don’t mind him. Dude, that’s not baking powder.” Beomgyu slaps Taehyun’s hand.
“Oh. Sorry. You should’ve labelled these.”
“We do label them! Corn flour has the blue lid, Baking powder has the pink one.”
“How the fuck was I supposed to know that?”
“Use your gigantic brain or something, I don’t know.”
Taehyun clicks his tongue. Beomgyu is having fun. He doesn’t mind this.
It’s festival day. The literature-cooking club sets up the booths inside Taehyun’s classroom. Taehyun had complained about having to move his desk back later, and something about preferring his current chair. Oh, Beomgyu’s definitely going to steal it before he leaves today.
The events start slowly, as people walk through the corridors to check out each class one-by-one. Beomgyu would love to join his classmates who aren’t on duty, but unfortunately, he’s stuck behind one of the booths.
With Taehyun.
“You wouldn’t have to be paired with me if you didn’t start the flour fight yesterday,” Taehyun says, sipping on a box of strawberry milk.
“Hey. Did you pay for that?”
Taehyun holds out a bill. Beomgyu scoffs and takes it, neatly placing it into the money basket.
“I’d rather be paired with you than one of those lit club kids,” Beomgyu admits, resting his chin on his hands. Things are going slow. The girls in the classroom don’t know which sweets to choose.
“The chairman worshippers?” Taehyun says.
“Exactly. So glad you’re not brainwashed.”
“He’s not that bad.”
Beomgyu gasps, looking at Taehyun in disbelief. Taehyun chuckles, just once.
“Kidding. That guy’s a weirdo.”
“You scared me. Fucker,” Beomgyu elbows Taehyun’s arm, causing the boy to laugh some more. Its sound is foreign to Beomgyu, only having heard it a few times. Even then, he only shows his amusement to his close friends, like that Yeosang guy from the gardening club.
The pace starts to pick up at 9 o’clock. Groups of people come in and out of the classroom, increasingly getting busier. Taehyun’s wrist probably hurts from having to write the same thing again and again, in cursive on parchment paper.
“It’s coffee dyed,” Taehyun had said when Beomgyu asked if they pulled it out of an ancient notebook of some sort. The theme makes more sense when Beomgyu is instructed to place small flowers under the seals for their paper bags, stem showing through the scotch tape. The whole classroom smells like a bakery, too.
How romantic.
“What if someone buys one just to give it to me?” He wonders out loud.
Taehyun scoffs, pulling back the sleeve of his white shirt to write on another piece of paper. “Nobody’s going to do that.”
“It’s a possibility,” Beomgyu says as he packs another muffin into the bag. Taehyun hands him the poem, and he carefully tucks it inside, then taping the bag shut before handing it to a girl bouncing on her toes. “Here you go. Good luck,” He says, winking. The girl stammers a small thanks before rushing off.
“We’re like matchmakers. Imagine the increase in relationships tomorrow,” Taehyun sighs.
“On one hand, I like making money. On the other hand… That’s gross.” Beomgyu scrunches his face.
“Taehyun-ah!” One of the literature club members calls out. He’s snickering as he walks over to Taehyun, a very familiar paper bag with a very familiar piece of parchment paper in hand. “An anonymous person requested me to send this to you.”
Taehyun’s jaw drops open. Beomgyu stares at him in shock and offense.
“No fucking way.”
Beomgyu, thankfully, remembers to carry out his plans to steal Taehyun’s chair to put in his classroom while they wrap up for the day. Taehyun, disappointingly, doesn’t notice it, because he’s still sitting behind the empty booth as he stares at the bag quizzically.
“Burning holes into that thing isn’t going to help you figure out who it is,” Beomgyu rests his arms on the table, crouching to watch Taehyun have an internal crisis. His eyebrows have been pinched together the whole day. “Reading the poem isn’t gonna help either.”
“Yeah, but,” Taehyun sighs, finally ripping the bag open. He gives Beomgyu a slice of banana cake. So oily. “Why would they not give me a single clue if they wanted to confess?”
“Maybe they’re shy?” Beomgyu bites into the cake. He continues talking with a full mouth. “Or they forgot. Or, they want to be mysterious and make you chase after them.”
“I hate this. I’m not good with things like this,” Taehyun stuffs his face like it’ll solve all his problems. He also starts talking with his mouth full. “I don’t want to date someone I don’t know.”
“Then reject them.”
“That’s the fucking problem, dumbass,” Taehyun flings a stray flower at Beomgyu, which hits his forehead. “I can’t reject them if I can’t find them.”
“Maybe they know that already, so they don’t want you to find them in the first place,” Beomgyu dusts off his hand. He picks up the flower Taehyun threw at him, presenting it to the younger boy. Taehyun looks up at him in confusion, his cheeks still stuffed from the cake. “Let’s get outta here. It’s almost six.”
The next week moves along as always, for Beomgyu. Taehyun however…
“Hey. Hey! Tyun!” Beomgyu snaps his finger repeatedly in front of Taehyun’s face. He only comes to after the fifth snap.
“H― Huh? What,” Taehyun is a little panicky as he searches for his textbook.
“What’s the third ice age stage again?”
Taehyun pushes his glasses back up his nose. “For the last fucking time. I’m your Chemistry tutor. And, we learned that two years ago.”
“Two years is a long time and I forgot.”
“Well, I don’t remember either. I don’t like History.”
“Fine. I’ll Google it,” Beomgyu says, waiting for a word of protest as he pulls out his phone. It never comes. Taehyun is spaced out, slumped on his seat. “You still thinking about The Person?”
Taehyun groans, letting his head fall onto the table.
“I thought it wouldn’t bother you this much. You don’t seem like the type.”
“Me too.” Taehyun rolls his head sideways. “This sucks.”
Beomgyu plays his game, and an explosion sound comes from his phone.
“Are you playing during―”
“You know, we would be great friends, if we got along more.”
Silence.
Beomgyu looks up from his phone to an upright Taehyun, a confused expression on his face.
“Aren’t we friends already?”
“...We are?”
“That’s cruel of you,” Taehyun huffs, picking up the novel he discarded on the library table an hour ago. Beomgyu hears a hint of disappointment in his voice. It gives him the urge to get closer to the boy, so he does, dragging his chair over the side to sit beside Taehyun.
“Hey, don’t sulk. Okay, okay. We’re friends.” Beomgyu holds his hand out. Taehyun frowns at it.
“Friends don’t call for a truce,” He huffs.
“They don’t?”
“Not sure.”
“Then,” Beomgyu grabs Taehyun’s limp, heavy hand, to put into his. “Truce.”
Taehyun’s lips curl into a smile for a split second, but he bites it down. “Weirdo.”
“Beomgyu-hyung,” Kai whispers, approaching him during club activities one day. He has a bowl of batter under his arm, a whisk in the opposite hand. As usual, there’s flour on his jaw. “Did he… get it?”
“What?” Beomgyu stops mixing his own batter. “Get what?”
“Taehyun.” Kai looks around. “Did he get the… confession bag?”
Beomgyu almost drops his bowl.
“That was you?”
Frantically, Kai tries to silence him by waving his whisk in front of Beomgyu’s face, causing some of it to drip onto the floor. “Hey, shush! Don’t be loud about it!”
Beomgyu puts his batter down, and the back of his hand to his head. It might as well be throbbing from stress. “Do you know how much he stressed out over it? Why didn’t you put your name on the bag!”
Kai’s eyes widen like saucers. “I didn’t?”
“You didn’t! Even I checked it. No name.”
“...Well, fuck.”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu shakes his head. “Can you like, go tell him? I can’t stand it anymore.”
“Oh.” Kai immediately takes off his apron and throws it onto the counter.
“Wait, right now?”
“Yes, right now.” Kai wipes his cheek with a random cloth nearby. “You didn’t tell me there was no name!”
Beomgyu squawks, wanting to get another word out, but Kai is already rushing past him and out of the club. The chairman calls after him, but the attempt is futile.
“Didn’t fucking tell me it was you,” Beomgyu grumbles under his breath.
Taehyun shows up neat and put together the next week.
“Great. Did you go back to normal?” Beomgyu kicks Taehyun’s leg under the table. They’re at the park since he wanted a change of scenery. Plus, there’s an ice cream truck nearby. He can offer to treat Taehyun when he wants to escape extra work.
“I guess I did,” Taehyun says, sorting out his books. “I found the person.”
“Oh yeah?” Beomgyu acts oblivious, even if Taehyun sees right through him, since it is his clubmate after all. “Who is it?”
“Your friend, Kai. He said he forgot to ask them to write his name since his nametag was right there.”
“So, what did you say?”
“I rejected him.”
“Hmm. Expected as much.”
“He didn’t cry over it, though.”
“Hey.”
“Hm?” Taehyun’s eyes are red. Beomgyu didn’t catch it at first, since his glasses darken in the sunlight.
“Let’s get you some ice cream.”
Taehyun sniffs. His fingers come under his glasses to wipe his eyes. “God, why am I the one crying,” He chuckles wetly. “I’m so stupid.”
“Maybe. I don’t know why you’re crying either.” Beomgyu holds his hand anyway and leads him towards the ice cream truck. He rests his hand gently on Taehyun’s back as they walk down the park.
“Probably because I―” Taehyun inhales a long breath, his head tilting upwards. “Because I’m happy. That someone feels that way. Can you believe it?”
Taehyun’s gaze falls onto him. He’s smiling now.
“I kinda can,” Beomgyu says.
Taehyun gets cherry ice cream. Beomgyu gets red bean ice cream because he wants something gentle for the day. Taehyun points out how they’re both pink, so they're matching, and they get along better from then onwards.
Months go by in a flash. One moment, Beomgyu’s taking his finals, and the next, he finds out that he’s passed all subjects except history.
He spends spring break with his friends, and Taehyun is a new addition. They play games together sometimes. Y’know, normal boy stuff. Like trying out your sister’s clothes.
“You’re sure she’s not going to find out,” Taehyun says, gripping a little too tightly on the dress he’s holding to his chest.
“What’s she gonna do, whip out a microscope and try to find boy germs?” Beomgyu stands in front of the full-body mirror as he buckles up a belt over his skirt. Well, his sister’s skirt. It’s black and pleated, with little heart cutouts, he thinks it’s super cute.
Taehyun sighs somewhere from the other corner of the room. “Fine.”
A few moments later, and he tells Beomgyu he can turn around.
“Goddamn,” Beomgyu whistles. “You should ask this one from her, actually. She said it doesn’t fit her anymore.”
The dress is silky white, fitted at the body, and cinched at the waist. It drapes down until right above Taehyun’s knees with the flair of a lacey hem. On top of that, the sleeves are cute and poofy.
Taehyun isn’t convinced, as his mouth twists while he pulls on the skirt in different directions. “I don’t know. It’s not really for me.”
“That’s fine.” Beomgyu shrugs. “You can try something else.”
They also do other boy stuff, like stealing their mom’s car to drive out at midnight. No, not Taehyun’s mom, Beomgyu’s mom.
Beomgyu honks three times in front of Taehyun’s house, no doubt waking up the neighbours. Oh, a baby wailing. Yeah, he definitely did.
Taehyun storms out of his house not even a minute later, his face somewhere between amusement and anger. He closes the gate and climbs into the passenger seat.
“How’d you know my parents aren’t home?” Taehyun says as he fastens his seatbelt.
“You were in a good mood earlier today.”
Taehyun is still for a second. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best choice of words.
“You’re right. Thanks for the cheesecake at lunch, by the way.”
Oh. So it’s fine.
A small weight lifts off Beomgyu’s shoulders as he drives them off to a fast-food chain. Taehyun had texted him that he was hungry in the middle of the night, and who is Beomgyu to deny a midnight escapade?
Spring transitions into summer. The sun grows stronger with each passing day. Little did senior high schooler Beomgyu know how amazing this summer would be.
“Did you know that seasons aren’t caused by the Earth getting closer and further to the Sun?” Beomgyu reads an article out loud to Taehyun, who rolls his eyes. They’re on the rooftop of Kai’s house, with popsicles in hand, since Taehyun wants to watch the sunset. “Seasons actually happen because―”
“The Earth’s axis is tilted, I know.”
“Bummer. You know everything, I never get to flex my knowledge.” Beomgyu flops back onto the reclining surface of the roof.
“I don’t know everything.” Taehyun fiddles with his shoelaces. “I just show everyone the things that I know.”
“Oh! Lemme guess,” Beomgyu speaks into his popsicle, only to choke on his own saliva. “Fuck―”
“Take your time.”
“Lemme guess. You don’t know… how to… uh,” Beomgyu turns his head left and right, scanning the streets like they’ll give him an answer. “Put on makeup?”
“I put on makeup on you last month, for the party.”
Beomgyu cries out in frustration and gets his final bite of his apple popsicle. “You don’t know how to… draw!”
“Everyone knows how to draw, just depends on how well they can do it.”
“Bake!”
“I made your birthday cake.”
“Swim, dance, soccer!”
“I think you’ve forgotten that I’m a natural athlete.”
Beomgyu clicks his tongue. “Then… kiss!”
All of a sudden, the Sun is eclipsed. The sky turns dark, even though it’s still ten past five. When Beomgyu regains his focus, he sees two moons.
They look right back at him.
Then, there’s a soft, brief sensation on his lips, leaving him stunned as Taehyun pulls away smiling.
“I can kiss,” Taehyun chuckles.
Beomgyu tries to process what just happened. Okay, so his best friend as of now just kissed him. A little peck on the lips to accompany the numbness from eating his popsicle. It’s nice. He likes it, would definitely do it again.
There’s nothing else to think about, so he moves on.
“Ugh,” Beomgyu grimaces. “Fly?”
“Humans don’t have wings,” Taehyun shrugs. He also seems to have moved on from the kiss.
Alright, so it’s no big deal. Beomgyu can do that.
“Aha! Something you don’t know how to do!” Beomgyu sits up, pointing his finger at Taehyun, to which the younger tries to bite.
“Fine, you won. I still know why birds can fly, though. And why planes can fly.”
“Yea, yea. Good for you.”
“What’s your favourite season?”
Beomgyu hums in thought. “Autumn.”
“Summer, for me.”
“Right now? Why?”
“The days are longer,” Taehyun rests his chin on his arms. The sun is starting to set. “And… well, summer break is, too.”
“That’s after the exams next week, right?”
“Yep.”
“Sucks. Well, good luck to you.”
“I feel like I’m gonna fail something.”
“What?” Beomgyu scoots closer. “You? Fail something?”
“History,” He turns to Beomgyu. His eyes are glassy, but he forces a smile onto his face. “Just like you, then, we can match.”
Taehyun laughs. Beomgyu doesn’t find it funny. He slings a hand over Taehyun’s shoulder to pull him close, and Taehyun warmly welcomes him.
“It’ll be okay, Tyun. You can do it.”
“I hope so,” Taehyun exhales.
Beomgyu hopes his empty promise calms the stir beneath Taehyun’s skin.
Two weeks later, Beomgyu shoots up from the couch in the living room, abandoning the drama he’s watching in favour of answering the repeated ringing of the doorbell. Whoever is on the other side, they seem desperate, and Beomgyu prays that it’s not who he thinks it is.
Much to his dismay and the drop in his stomach, Taehyun stands weak at his doorstep, eyes overflowing with watery waste and lips trembling with every intake of breath.
“Tyun,” Beomgyu whispers as he pulls Taehyun’s hands away from rubbing aggressively on his face. His eyes, nose, and cheeks are red. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Let’s go inside.”
Beomgyu pulls Taehyun to his room, carefully guiding him up the steps. The boy can barely see, and Beomgyu holds back his chuckle when he bumps into the doorframe. He rubs Taehyun’s forehead gently as he sobs further.
“Sorry. I’ll throw away the doorframe next time, can’t believe it did that to you,” Beomgyu says the last part as a mumble. Taehyun probably heard it, from the way his sobbing turned into some weird choking sound, an attempt to laugh. It’s awfully endearing, despite the current circumstances.
Beomgyu brings Taehyun onto his bed. He seems to find his preferred spot in Beomgyu’s lap, curling into himself like a cat, while his body shivers and shakes with sobs. Beomgyu runs his hand through Taehyun’s dark hair, unsure of what else to do.
Taehyun must be content with just that from the way he leans desperately into the touch. A while later, when his crying slowly comes down, he wraps both his arms around Beomgyu’s waist and buries his head into his side. It’s devastating to watch, and Beomgyu doesn’t want anything other than to care for his friend for the rest of the night.
He doesn’t know how long it’s been when the crying finally dies down, dissolving into small sniffles and deep, deliberate inhales. Beomgyu’s hand continues to massage Taehyun’s scalp, seeing as the younger might like it.
“Tyun?” He asks softly.
Taehyun hums in response.
“D’you need anything?”
“...Wet tissue, please,” Taehyun says, voice rasped out. Beomgyu obliges, stretching his body over to his drawers beside the bed and pulls a pack out. Taehyun doesn’t look at him as he wipes down his own face, Beomgyu readily holding his hand out to collect the used tissues.
Later, when Taehyun’s done, he sits up as Beomgyu goes to throw away the tissues and wash his hand. When he comes back, he finds Taehyun all bundled up in his hoodie he left at the end of his bed earlier. The drawstrings are pulled tight, only allowing a small part of his face to show.
“Got yourself comfy?” Beomgyu says as he climbs back onto the bed, resting against the headboard so he’s facing Taehyun again. Instead of lying on his lap this time, Taehyun sniffs and inches closer to Beomgyu until their knees touch. “Tyun?”
Taehyun tugs the hoodie open a little more, revealing his reddish face in the dim lighting. With oversized sleeves, he rests his hands on Beomgyu’s shoulders.
“Can we kiss?”
Beomgyu can’t hold back his smile. “Come here,” Beomgyu pats his lap, and Taehyun gladly climbs onto him. Without a second thought, they both meet in the middle for their lips to touch. It’s much different this time.
Less of the illusion of infinity that the sunset offers. More of the reality that Taehyun has hit the ground today, and hard. It’s going to take him a lot of Beomgyu Convincing later to let him know that it’s okay to fail, that it won’t ruin the rest of his life.
Fuck Mrs. Kang for making him feel this way.
Taehyun hums into the kiss, and he wraps his arms around Beomgyu’s neck. His lips are tender and wet, a little salty from the tears. Beomgyu doesn’t mind it at all.
Taehyun is still Taehyun even with puffy eyes. Still Taehyun even with a rough and ruined voice. Still Taehyun even with broken dreams that weren’t his in the first place.
It’s strange, the way Beomgyu’s heart pulsates slow, deep, and right when Taehyun’s in his arms like this. Crushes don’t usually feel this way, do they? Is Taehyun beyond a crush? Beyond a friend?
You know what, it doesn’t really matter. Everything is a social construct after all, right?
During summer break, Beomgyu asks Taehyun out. It happens in Beomgyu’s mom’s car, which he really should not be in, since she’s banned him from driving it the whole holiday.
A simple, “Wanna date?”
Taehyun tilts his head. “Like, boyfriends?”
“Like boyfriends.”
Taehyun says yes after, and not a lot changes.
They still do their regular ‘boy stuff’, Taehyun sleeps over at Beomgyu’s house a little more, and they have their little kissy moments.
Their little kissy moments, consisting of Taehyun pecking him on the lips, or comforting, long kisses on days where one of them feels a little dull under the heat of summer. That’s what couples do. Beomgyu knows, he’s dated before.
Taehyun is quite different, though. It doesn’t last long.
Beomgyu asks him out on a first date one day when they get back from swimming and sit by the beach. Taehyun stares at him for a long time while they sit on their slippers on the sand, towels around their bodies to avoid getting bitten by bugs.
“Say something,” Beomgyu whines when the silence gets a little too long.
“Hyung, I don’t think this is working out,” Taehyun says.
In any other situation, with another person, maybe, Beomgyu would consider this sentence as a temporary end-of-the-world. But right now, with Taehyun looking at him with the same moons in his eyes, sparkling with trust, Beomgyu only feels the wind blowing in his face ― like a physical manifestation of his relief.
“You think that way too? Thank fuck.” Beomgyu holds a hand up to his beating chest. Not out of nervousness, no. He’s ecstatic.
“Is this our breakup?” Taehyun laughs.
“I guess. You’re not my boyfriend anymore.” Beomgyu sticks out his tongue at Taehyun.
Youth seems to go uphill from there. The thread that holds them together weaves itself into something stronger.
Time passes by faster as you age, Beomgyu notes to himself.
The train halts to a stop, and poor, sleeping Taehyun almost falls off his shoulder. Beomgyu catches him before he face-plants onto the floor. In a few stops, the two of them will be on their way to uni. They are on their way to uni, it’s just, it’ll officially start when they get off the train.
It’s been two years since Beomgyu’s favourite summer. It wasn’t very eventful, he just likes it a lot because Taehyun was a significant part of it. He has no other reasons.
Since their breakup, they’ve started to understand each other a lot more, and Beomgyu thinks that Taehyun gets more and more beautiful every day since then, too.
Taehyun’s graduation day, Beomgyu came to see him, and the boy was radiating in his robe. He showed Beomgyu his results a while later, since he had been keeping it a secret up until then. He’s rewarded with a Beomgyu kiss that got him giggling.
Beomgyu still remembers when Taehyun went blond, a few months ago. “You look fucking stunning,” Beomgyu had said, and rewarded him with another Beomgyu kiss.
Things like this are the norm. Loving Taehyun in his own way comes naturally for him, and he’s pretty sure he’s been doing that since the very beginning. The arguments and bickering after their start line weren’t as rocky as Beomgyu thought they were at the moment. In fact, with every provocation he had said to Taehyun, he learned something new about him. Beomgyu doesn’t realize that he desires to keep every detail about Taehyun until a year later.
Beomgyu got accepted to a university two cities away, and Taehyun cried the night before he had to depart.
“I’ll miss you,” Taehyun had said, earnest, like it came from the depths of his heart.
“I’ll miss you too,” Beomgyu had replied, meaning it all the same before he planted his lips on Taehyun’s forehead.
The first time he came back, Taehyun engulfed him in a hug so tight he couldn’t breathe, yet Beomgyu believed that there’s no better place he’d like to be.
The eighth time he came back, it was Christmas eve, and Taehyun brought his laptop over to Beomgyu’s place with a determined face. Taehyun showed him his acceptance letter into the same university, and to put it simply, Beomgyu made out with him that night.
“Eight,” Taehyun held up his fingers after counting the time’s Beomgyu’s returned so far. “If you flip it to its side, it’s an infinity symbol.”
“You’re speaking in Beomgyu logic now?” Beomgyu chuckles against his pillow, stroking Taehyun’s cheek as the other lies in front of him, basking in the artificial glow of his fairy lights. He has a bright grin, too bad Beomgyu can’t see his dimple.
“I’m just saying, you might be stuck forever with me,” Taehyun says, his rare cheeky side showing itself.
“I’d like that, a lot.”
The ninth time Beomgyu came back, Taehyun delivered him the news of buying an apartment in the same city as their(Taehyun’s future) university. Beomgyu’s lost track of how many time’s he has kissed the boy out of happiness, now.
That’s the thing, when Beomgyu’s happy, he finds Taehyun. When Beomgyu finds Taehyun, he is happy.
“It’s not too big…” Taehyun turns around in the living room of their new apartment. It’s true, it's not too big, it’s nowhere near small, either. Three Beomgyus can lie down on the ground and there will still be room left to spare.
“It’s a great place,” Beomgyu says as he peeks into one of the rooms. With blank walls, Beomgyu can’t picture how big a bed would be in here. “The beds are on their way, right?”
“Yeah, but now you get to sleep with me on the air mattress. Ooh, the kitchen is cool.”
“Lemme see,” Beomgyu waddles over to where Taehyun stands. “Goddamn. Okay, this is… a fucking great place.”
“You really have no other adjective.”
“You’re a great place,” Beomgyu says as he grabs both of Taehyun’s cheeks, turning his head towards him. Taehyun’s cheeks are squished, and his eyes turn into crescents. “I love you. Thanks for getting us this place.” Beomgyu kisses his nose.
The words roll off his tongue so easily. It’s not the first time he’s said it, in fact, it might be the thousandth time. He tells Taehyun I love you through a voice note before bed, and another I love you when he wakes up the next day. If they’re able to meet in person, Beomgyu won’t have any obstacles to say it to his face, because Taehyun never fails to come over to sleep at Beomgyu’s house.
Now, they’ll be able to see each other every day. Beomgyu really can’t be happier than this.
“I love you too,” Taehyun says, reciprocating the kiss on Beomgyu’s nose.
University starts the same for Beomgyu. It’s his second year, his second spring spent here. For Taehyun, he has to go through orientation, and he had told Beomgyu about his nervousness prior. To that, Beomgyu only stated his confidence in Taehyun, a meaningful “you’re one of the bravest people I know”, set in stone with a smooch to his lips.
A few days later, Beomgyu is on his way to class when he bumps into someone particularly familiar. Not actually bump, simply… notice, even if it took him a while.
“Kai?” Beomgyu says to the 2 metre-long man― boy? Man? He’s the same age as Taehyun, yet how did he grow this much in such a short amount of time? Anyways, he’s standing against the wall and holding onto his bag, maybe waiting for someone from the toilets nearby.
“Hyung!” Kai chirps, throwing himself at Beomgyu, to which the elder has to awkwardly return. He doesn’t know how to position his arms now.
“God, what happened to you?” Beomgyu sounds a little more distraught than he intended to, causing Kai to pat his own face worriedly.
“Wh― What happened to me?”
“Not like that. Why are you so tall?”
“Good question, I was just about to ask why you’re so short!”
Kai earns a slap to his arm.
Before Beomgyu can scold him, Kai already has his head turned from the sound of a door creaking open. Anime girl style, Kai runs over to the person who just came out of the toilets.
“Hyuuuung! That random hyung’s bullying me!”
Beomgyu’s jaw drops. Partly because of Kai’s betrayal, and now some random person gets a bad impression of him, partly because said random person is drop-dead gorgeous.
Neon yellow hair falls over his eyebrows in wavy curtains, it’s unfair how good his complexion looks with the colour. He manages to make a simple v-neck cardigan fit to his body so prettily, tucked into distressed jeans and a pair of Doc Martens. It’s a regular outfit with a very… not regular choice of hair dye.
Said person snaps his head to Beomgyu, cat-like eyes wide and his strong eyebrows pinched together. “Bullying?”
“Yes, hyung, he hit my arm, it really hurts,” Kai whines exaggeratedly. To that, this ‘hyung’s face falls into an annoyed frown. Beomgyu holds his hands up in an I-didn’t-do-anything manner.
“You baby. That’s your friend?”
Kai gives up on his act, yet still clings onto Yeonjun’s arm. He’s always been a physical person. “Yeah, from high school.”
“He told me I’m short.” Beomgyu points at Kai who gasps in shock.
“You do look short…” The stranger says, scanning Beomgyu’s figure up and down, and Beomgyu won’t admit that it makes him freeze in his spot.
“That’s it, I’m outta here.”
“Beomgyu-hyung, wait!” Kai laughs, pulling at his arm. “Let’s go get coffee.”
“Fine,” Beomgyu sighs. He spots Kai’s blond hyung distracted by his phone on the other side of the corridor. “When?”
“When I get out of orientation later today, I’ll text you. Also, I’m pretty sure Yeonjun-hyung over there is the impostor,” Kai whispers the last part a little too loud, making ‘Yeonjun-hyung’ glance their way.
“Impostor?” Beomgyu asks, curious.
“It’s an orientation game,” Yeonjun pulls Kai by his collar like picking up a little cat.
“Oh, I remember orientation games. Anyways, I’ll bring Taehyun along.”
“Taehyun? Your boyfriend? He’s here?” With every question, Kai bounces on his toes a little more.
“He is not my boyfriend, Kai,” Beomgyu says for the fifth time in his lifetime.
“Oh, right. I keep forgetting that for some reason,” Kai scratches the back of his head. Yeonjun is still on his phone.
“And uh… Sunbae?” Beomgyu says hesitantly.
“Huh?” Yeonjun responds. “Oh, I’m Choi Yeonjun.”
“Choi Beomgyu,” He gives a small bow. “Are you coming with us?”
“Sure.”
“Great!” Kai claps. “See you by then, Beomgyu-hyung!”
“Kai invited us for coffee in a bit.” Beomgyu strums his guitar. “Later today.”
“Kai? He’s here?” Taehyun looks up at him over his glasses. He’s lying down on the mattress next to Beomgyu. Their beds are arriving tomorrow, which is appalling for the fact that they’re living in the city. Apparently it’s from overseas.
"Guess so. I didn’t know either.” Beomgyu plays another chord, a little more wistful, a juxtaposition to the major chord before it.
“Good for him. It’s a hard university to get into.”
“So we’re going?”
“Of course we’re going.”
Beomgyu switches to a different progression, something with more upbeat strumming.
“He’s also bringing someone. A sunbae.”
“That’s fine.”
“He’s really pretty, I gotta say.”
“Mhm?”
“Not jealous?”
Taehyun rolls over to lie on his stomach, holding his phone out in front of himself. “There can be more than one pretty person on Earth.”
“Yet you’re the only one I’m looking at.” Beomgyu grins, sending Taehyun a major seventh chord. He can feel Taehyun roll his eyes.
“Very clearly, you were looking at that sunbae.”
“You’re no fun.” Beomgyu falls on his side onto the mattress, bringing the guitar with him. “You gonna dress up all cute for me?”
“I dress for myself,” Taehyun scoffs with a smile on his face.
Beomgyu pouts at him. His phone dings, the awaited text lighting up the screen. “Oh, time to go.”
They get themselves ready shortly, although Beomgyu suggesting Taehyun to wear a flowy blouse holds them back for a little longer. In the end, Taehyun gives in and puts on the ruffled top with a Peter Pan collar, cropped right above the waistband of his brown plaid pants. Over it goes a tweed blazer.
In times like these, where Taehyun looks too gorgeous for his own good, is when Beomgyu wants to call Taehyun his. Except that ‘boyfriend’ doesn’t sound right. This has always left Beomgyu in deep confusion, even though he’s very sure of his feelings towards Taehyun.
So, when in doubt, he turns Taehyun by the shoulder and plants a kiss on his lips, a sincere “I love you” leaving his own.
The cafe turns out to be pretty close to their apartment, just a few minutes away by foot. It’s taking longer since Beomgyu is wearing high heels. He had told Taehyun about how Kai called him short earlier, and Taehyun huffed and said, “If you’re short, then what am I…”
They enter the cosy little cafe, finding Kai and Yeonjun sitting in the far corner. Kai waves at them enthusiastically.
“Taehyunnie!” Kai says as he half-hugs Taehyun. Taehyun laughs at his excitement.
“Really didn’t expect you here,” Taehyun says when they sit down.
Beomgyu, for a fortunate reason, is sitting across Yeonjun, whose eyes are downcast on his phone, revealing the full view of his smokey eye makeup. A pout plays at his glossy, brick-coloured lips. Fucking hell, he’s gorgeous, Beomgyu doesn’t know how he can nonchalantly sit there and act like he’s not―
“Hyung?” Taehyun nudges at his side. “What are you eating?” He slides the menu towards Beomgyu ― who sputters as he requests his order to the waiter.
Beomgyu relaxes in his seat again, intending to copy Yeonjun when he pulls out his phone. When he glances up at Yeonjun, their eyes meet for a split second.
“He is really pretty,” Taehyun whispers into Beomgyu’s ear, making him jump.
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu rubs his ear.
“What, you were staring at him. Am I wrong?” Taehyun’s eyes are big and doe-like at this angle. Beomgyu can’t get mad at him.
“Later,” Beomgyu whispers, right in time for Yeonjun to start a conversation.
“Ice breaker! If you had a superpower―”
“That’s so lame, Yeonjun hyung. If you had a sidekick―” Yeonjun slaps Kai’s mouth.
“―what would it be?”
“Time travel,” Beomgyu says, at the same time as Taehyun says, “Time manipulation.” They look at each other, and laugh.
“Wow, you’re synced up,” Yeonjun says, impressed. “Well, I… I want everything I touch to turn into food,”
“Why not gold?” Kai says.
“Kai, my boy, say you were stuck on a deserted island.”
“I am never going to a deserted island.”
“Imagine, there was a huge eagle, that picks you up from on top of a building one day,” Yeonjun animatedly acts out the scene. Beomgyu and Taehyun watch him with interest.
“I’d have the superpower of animal mind control,” Kai says, holding up a finger. Yeonjun pushes it down, ignoring him.
“And the eagle drops you onto a random island. If you had the choice to have the power to turn everything you touch into food, or turn everything you touch into gold, which one would you choose?”
“Why are you asking me the icebreaker question?” Kai laughs nervously. Yeonjun looks at Beomgyu and Taehyun with an accusing expression.
“What would you choose?”
“Neither,” Taehyun says.
“Food, but on command.” Beomgyu says.
“That’s what I was going to say,” Taehyun pats Beomgyu’s thigh.
“Oh…” Yeonjun nods slowly. “That makes sense.”
“Because if everything you touch turns into food, you can’t make shelter ― thus you’ll either die of hypothermia, wild animals snacking on you, or sleep every night under a pile of rotting food and decreasing resources.”
“Jesus Christ, Taehyun-ah,” Kai says.
“You’re cool,” Yeonjun laughs. “I like you.”
Taehyun does an act of flipping his hair, meanwhile Beomgyu perks up in his seat.
“And m―” Beomgyu is cut off by a waitress serving their drinks and food promptly. Taehyun had ordered a plate of waffles with a side of vanilla ice cream, to which Beomgyu smiles fondly at.
“Ah, yeah,” Yeonjun says as he stirs his drink, a grin on his face. “A company contacted me back the other day.”
Obviously, the comment is intended for Kai, since the other two of them have no idea what Yeonjun does.
“They did? Which one?”
“I can’t tell you, it’s a surprise,” Yeonjun singsongs, waving a finger up in the air. Beomgyu finds it cute.
“Okay, then which song?”
“Also a surprise,” Yeonjun giggles, sipping on his drink with a hum.
“Song?” Beomgyu asks. Taehyun leans into him again.
“Great, another one of you,” Taehyun says playfully, when Beomgyu knows damn well how much Taehyun likes it when he writes songs for him. Especially the yearning ones.
“I’m a producer,” Yeonjun says with a twirl of his wrist.
“I’m a composer!” Beomgyu sits up straight, excitement thrumming in his chest. “Um, well, I haven’t been contacted by a label or anything yet…”
“Because he’s too shy to release anything,” Taehyun butts in.
Yeonjun’s eyes are bright, his lips formed into a pout as he looks at Beomgyu. Beomgyu is a little dizzy under the sparkly attention.
“Can I listen? To your songs, someday?” Yeonjun says, both hands playing with his straw.
“O― Oh,” Beomgyu glances to Taehyun, who only smirks at him. “Yeah, you can.”
***
Beomgyu is a self-proclaimed composer, Yeonjun is a producer. Of course they would get along. Taehyun is tempted to ask them the differences, but decides against since it’s something he can look up on his own. Besides, the two of them are in a separate world from him now.
Beomgyu shines differently after every meeting with Yeonjun. Taehyun admires it, the way it seems like Beomgyu’s drunk of fairy dust or something of the sort. He gets giddy, diving into Taehyun’s bed even though he has his own in the other bedroom.
His love would go onto tangents about how Yeonjun knows how to dance, and very skillfully. Then, about how Yeonjun sings with such a beautiful tone, a unique voice, perfectly nasal and richly saccharine. After that, about how Yeonjun has the biggest heart he’s ever found in someone, always doing things for Beomgyu even when he doesn’t have to. For example, buying Beomgyu his beloved bombolonis from the bakery on campus.
“These things are a different kind of love, Taehyun,” Beomgyu had said between bites when he brought them home once. “I love you, but these babies…”
Taehyun isn’t jealous of Yeonjun, but he is jealous of those godforsaken donuts. So he stole a bite from one of them, gaining a horrified look from Beomgyu.
One day, Beomgyu meets him between classes in the courtyard, with swollen lips and a dazed look.
“Oh, uh… I kissed him,” Beomgyu says, fingers playing on his lower lip. “Is that… okay with you?”
“We’ve talked about this before, haven’t we?” Taehyun holds Beomgyu’s hand and rubs his thumb on it. “We can date whoever we want. If the relationship calls for it, we can stop whatever we have right now.”
Taehyun lied, they haven’t talked about that last part at all. Beomgyu’s eyes flash with hurt.
“Taehyun,” Beomgyu says sternly. “This isn’t just something we can just call off. If the relationship requires that, I don’t want it. We’re soulmates, Taehyun.”
That’s when it clicks for Taehyun.
He found the word. Soulmates.
It looks like Beomgyu realizes it too, as his eyes fill up with tears immediately after the declaration. “Oh my fucking God,” Beomgyu says breathlessly.
Taehyun’s eyes start to prick with tears too, and he pulls Beomgyu into a tight embrace before his love can see it. “I’m sorry. I love you, Beomgyu hyung.”
The world turns into a blur as Taehyun’s only focus is Beomgyu ― Beomgyu’s heartbeat, the tears wetting his shoulder, his trembling hands interlocked with his own.
“Nobody else compares to you,” Beomgyu mutters into Taehyun’s neck. “Never say that again.”
Same goes for Taehyun. Everyone else pales in comparison to Beomgyu, his angel, his home.
For a whole seventeen years of living, he’d thought that he would never get rid of the hiraeth ― yet it dissipates the moment Beomgyu’s voice rings through his ears.
“I won’t. I’m sorry, hyung.”
“Tyun, black one or red one?” Beomgyu says, holding up two band tees.
“Black, everything goes with black,” Taehyun says from Beomgyu’s bed, then going back to working on the assignment on his laptop. He finally understands why so many uni students drink coffee, these past two months have proven him enough.
These past two months, he has also watched his soulmate fall in love with someone else. He doesn’t mind the glitter trail he brings home after spending time with Yeonjun. At times, Taehyun finds himself kissing off the foreign remnants of cherry lip gloss.
He hopes Yeonjun doesn’t mind sharing.
“Neither of these are good enough,” Beomgyu gripes, throwing the red shirt onto the floor.
“Pick those up later.”
“I know,” Beomgyu sighs, going back to his closet. “I don’t know what Yeonjun likes.”
“Yeonjun likes you.”
Beomgyu plants his face into his palms and squeals. Either from what Taehyun had said, or out of frustration.
“Just wear what you usually wear with me.” Taehyun gets off the bed, finally helping Beomgyu on choosing his attire. His love is hopeless when he needs to choose.
“My Taehyun date clothes should be different from my Yeonjun date clothes,” Beomgyu pouts.
“What's the difference? Either way, it’s still with you,” Taehyun rummages the closet, picking out pieces familiar to him ― the ones Beomgyu reaches for the most when they go on a date. In his arm is a light knit sweater, a cotton turtleneck, and a knee length pencil skirt.
“These are cute…” Beomgyu puffs his cheeks.
“See, you like them, right? So wear what you like around him,” Taehyun kisses his love’s forehead. “I hope it goes well.”
“It will, I promise you.”
Turns out that it does end up well, as two voices talk hushedly in the house that night. Taehyun falls asleep to the sound of the TV playing in the living room.
***
“So… your boyfriend?” Yeonjun says, confused. He really is. Beomgyu had described to him all the things that couples do, only for Beomgyu to sternly tell him that they’re not dating afterwards.
“He's not!” Beomgyu says, leaning back on Yeonjun’s spinning chair in front of his desk. They’re in Yeonjun’s studio, the elder spread out on the sofa while Beomgyu is messing with one of his MIDI controllers.
“Alright, um, queerplatonic partner?”
Beomgyu presses into the keyboard, a pulsating bass playing through the speakers as he holds down the keys. “What’s that?”
“Like, not exactly friends, but not romantic partners, either.”
The buzzing stops when Beomgyu retreats his hand. He’s silent in Yeonjun’s chair, staring blankly at the computer screen.
“I think that’s a good description. I like to call us soulmates,” He says, then changes to a different preset to play a plucked sound.
“Soulmates, huh…” Yeonjun taps his phone on his chin. “That’s cute.”
“Um, then,” Beomgyu plays a melody on the keyboard, that sounds a bit like falling in love. “You know that I... y’know.”
“Hm?” Yeonjun shifts, successfully capturing Beomgyu’s attention, just to smirk at him.
“I like you,” Beomgyu says, barely a whisper. “Like, I really like you,” He says something else, barely audible over the sounds from Yeonjun’s keyboard.
Yeonjun gets up from the sofa and walks over, standing right behind Beomgyu. He leans forward, and all he needs to do for Beomgyu to stop is brush over his hands with his own.
“Come again?” He says lowly against Beomgyu’s neck, whose owner seems to be frozen.
“I wanna go out with you,” Beomgyu mumbles, head hanging low. “But I don’t know if you want to because of my relationship with Taehyun.”
“Gyu, look at me,” Yeonjun says, one hand coming under Beomgyu’s jaw. Obediently, Beomgyu lifts his head to him, face flushed from the tips of his ears to the tip of his nose. “You’re so cute.”
“Hyung…"
“Even if Taehyun were a romantic partner, I wouldn’t mind.”
“What?”
“Wait― I’m not saying I’d be a homewrecker. Just. If it’s allowed.”
Beomgyu bites down a laugh. “No, I get it.”
“Are you free tomorrow night?”
“Oh, um―” Beomgyu’s lips part in surprise. “Yes. Yes, I am. Is it a date?”
Yeonjun grins. God, this boy, even when they’ve been making out every other day. Even when Yeonjun lets Beomgyu occupy his lap when he’s producing songs that Beomgyu definitely shouldn't be hearing yet.
“Yes, silly, it’s a date.”
Two days later, Yeonjun wakes up to an unfamiliar alarm, ringing much too early for him. He groans, turning over on the bed, only to realize that he is not on a bed. The room doesn’t smell of his dorm, the surface he’s lying on is coarse and way stiffer than what he usually sleeps on ― a couch. At his feet, there's another pile of something soft squirming against him.
That’s when he remembers that he’s in Beomgyu’s apartment. The alarm stops.
Yeonjun almost falls back into slumber, at peace with the information, then there’s the feeling of a pair of lips on his cheek.
“Sorry ‘bout that,” Beomgyu whispers, voice laced with sleep. Despite that, Yeonjun hears rustling as Beomgyu gets up, followed by the pops and cracks of his joints. “Really shouldn’t have slept out here,” he mumbles. Yeonjun chuckles sleepily.
Yeonjun sleeps again as Beomgyu makes breakfast, the gentle rhythm of utensils against plates playing from the kitchen.
A few hours later, it’s bright as light pours through the window of Beomgyu’s apartment. Yeonjun wakes up before his alarm.
He sits up groggily. Jeez, is that really all the space Beomgyu had to sleep last night? Yeonjun gets enough to stretch his legs and rest his head on the armrest, and Beomgyu only gets the tiny area of one cushion. They really shouldn’t have slept out here.
A clink comes from the kitchen, and Yeonjun turns to see Taehyun walking out with two steaming mugs.
Oh, yeah, it’s not just Beomgyu’s apartment.
Taehyun sets both mugs down on the coffee table, pushing one towards Yeonjun’s side before he sits down on the couch. “Good morning,” He says, lifting his own mug up as an offer for Yeonjun to take a sip of his.
“Good morning,” Yeonjun says, and sips on the coffee. His is black, while Taehyun’s smells sweet, and is a frothy light brown. Not a fan of bitter things, Yeonjun assumes. “Sorry for crashing at your place.”
“Please don’t apologize. Beomgyu invited you over.”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun nods. He warms up his hands on the mug. “...How did you two meet? Since you’ve seen my side of the story.”
Taehyun smiles fondly as he looks into his coffee. “In highschool. I was his tutor for Chemistry.”
“Aren’t you younger than him?”
“That’s what I was thinking at first. Apparently, there was a syllabus change after his first year, meaning that I learned everything he knew a year earlier,” Taehyun shrugs. “I got paid for it.”
“That’s cool.” Yeonjun takes another sip of the coffee. Still too hot.
“I’m happy he found you. Thank you, Yeonjun-hyung.”
That strikes Yeonjun deep inside. Beomgyu had called this man his soulmate. Why is Taehyun thanking him, a mere boyfriend?
“I haven’t done anything,” Yeonjun shakes his head. “I should thank you for taking care of him this whole time.”
Taehyun leans back on the couch, head tilting up to the ceiling. “It’s really been the opposite. That’s why…” he plays with a bracelet on his wrist. “I’m glad you’re here to give back to him, for me.”
“Taehyun-ssi,” Yeonjun says. He vividly recalls Beomgyu wearing an identical bracelet on his wrist, with a single wing charm dangling from the chain.
“Just Taehyun is fine. I feel like I’m indebted to two people now.”
“You’re not― promise me, you’re not. You’re just cared for,” Yeonjun sets his mug down. “You don’t need to do anything to be deserving of care.”
“That’s not what my mother taught me.”
“Taehyun…”
“Shit,” Taehyun runs a hand down his face, sighing. “Sorry. I’ve just met you. I shouldn’t have told you that.”
“It’s okay, really. I’ll listen if you want to talk about it.”
Taehyun chuckles, light and airy. His head lolls over to Yeonjun’s direction, and only then does Yeonjun notice how beautiful he is.
“I'll tell you another day."
Soobin comes up to him after their first round of practice at the studio. The whole time they were dancing, Yeonjun was in agony thinking about why Soobin was staring at him so hard.
"Yeonjun hyung, that…" Soobin reaches up to rub his hand on the base of his neck. Oh. Oh, shit.
Yeonjun gets close to the mirror, and indeed, there's splotches of red on his skin, barely hidden by the hem of his black t-shirt. "Fuck, I didn't notice."
"Who is it?" Soobin twists the cap of his bottle open to take a gulp of water. "The lucky person."
Yeonjun hopelessly adjusts his t-shirt to hide the marks. Nothing works, the neckline is way too low. "I'm the lucky person."
"Is it that Beomgyu kid?"
"He's one year younger than you."
"Kid," Soobin shrugs.
"Can I borrow one of your jackets later?"
"Sure, it's in the back."
"Yeonjun hyung!" A soft, baritone voice calls out. Yeonjun knows exactly who's talking.
And there he is, peeking into the door of the dance studio, Beomgyu and his fluffy brown hair.
"That's him," Yeonjun says to Soobin, before walking up to his boyfriend who fidgets with the door handle. Behind Beomgyu, he hears a different voice speaking. "Didn't expect you to actually come."
"Of course I'd come," Beomgyu pouts, gets up on his tiptoes and gives Yeonjun a quick kiss. "Um— I brought Taehyun, too."
Yeonjun spots Beomgyu's soulmate behind him, standing in a fuzzy cardigan and holding up a plastic bag. Unexpectedly, he hands it out to Yeonjun.
"We brought you food," Taehyun says with a little smile. Beomgyu is beaming at Yeonjun now, eyes sparkling, waiting for a response.
"Thank you. You two are great," Yeonjun says, and he’s sure theres a stupid look on his face, because Beomgyu and Taehyun are grinning at him weird.
“Come over tonight?” Beomgyu asks.
Yeonjun doesn’t decline.
“Hyung, did you steal my ice cream?” Taehyun says from the kitchen, followed by the sound of a fridge door closing. Yeonjun hums on his spoon as cherry ice cream melts on his tongue.
He’s gotten comfortable enough in Beomgyu and Taehyun’s apartment. It’s a nice place, more than enough for two people, but barely sufficient for three. So, he always ends up sleeping on the couch even when Beomgyu insists on letting him sleep in his single bed.
Yeonjun finds himself used to sleeping up with a pillow under his head, even when it wasn’t there when he fell asleep. It took Taehyun a while to admit that he’s the one putting it there when he finds Yeonjun sprawled out on the couch with the TV on.
“My sleeping schedule’s fucked up. It used to be perfect in highschool,” Taehyun said that day. Yeonjun can’t relate, his schedule has always been bad.
Back to the present. Taehyun walks into the living room when Yeonjun doesn’t respond, continuing to dig into the tub of dessert.
“I told you, if you wanted us to buy a tub for you, just ask for it,” Taehyun drops something onto Yeonjun’s bare leg, and he startles at its coldness.
It’s a small cup of mint chocolate ice cream.
“You―” Yeonjun turns to Taehyun, who climbs over the back of the couch to sit beside him. “You bought this for me?”
“Because you keep eating mine,” Taehyun says, snatching the spoon in Yeonjun’s hand.
“Taehyun-ah…” Yeonjun sniffs, clutching a hand to his chest. Taehyun playfully glares at him as he takes a spoonful of his own ice cream.
“Dramatic. Just like Beomgyu hyung,” He shakes his head. “Two peas in a pod, and now I have to live with them.”
“You know, I’m glad you don’t hate me.” Yeonjun opens the lid on his cup. Ah, bliss. So perfectly coloured.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t wanna know what getting on your bad side looks like.”
“You’ll find out someday.”
“Scary.”
Mornings with Taehyun are slow. Brief, but just enough for Yeonjun to collect his energy for the day, like a recharging station. Taehyun will hand him a mug of perfectly brewed coffee, even when the boy himself doesn’t favour drinking it, and they talk on the couch for as long as it takes for Yeonjun to fully wake up.
Sometimes, Yeonjun gets up early enough to brush his teeth with Taehyun, and make french toast for the both of them. He wonders if it would be like this if Taehyun were Beomgyu instead.
Not to say that his boyfriend is lacking. Yeonjun just thinks about how Taehyun fills in for times where Beomgyu isn’t there for him, like right now: Late in the morning, transitioning into afternoon. Beomgyu is in class and Yeonjun’s dorm is suffocating to be in alone.
In the past month, he’s slept over every weekday, with Beomgyu holding him to sleep and Taehyun waking him up with the smell of breakfast. Right now, he’s sitting right there, watching the shitty morning drama with his mouth open.
Yeonjun rests his head on Taehyun’s shoulder. Taehyun circles his arm around Yeonjun’s waist. Somehow, they found their place together like this, and Yeonjun likes it very much.
“I wanna make a song for you,” He says.
“Me?”
“You.”
“Not Beomgyu hyung?”
“He can have another one.”
Taehyun’s laugh sings a melody of its own.
Yeonjun and Taehyun started in a trickle. Yeonjun has no idea when it started, or when it turned into a steady flow.
Beomgyu rushes into the apartment one day to retrieve something, the door clattering open as he spits a string of curses. Yeonjun jumps in Taehyun's arms at the noise.
When Beomgyu's done forcing his shoes off his feet, he pauses in his haste to register the situation in front of him — Taehyun with his head propped up on the armrest, his nose in Yeonjun's now pink hair, and the elder is laid down on Taehyun's chest.
"Getting along?" Beomgyu smirks, socked feet sliding on the floor as he skids over to them, pressing quick kisses to each nose. Neither of them get to answer seeing as he had already blasted into his room.
"God, I miss him," Yeonjun says, pouting.
"He's right there."
"I know, but, I miss him even when he's here."
Taehyun gives him a look.
"It's not a bad thing," Yeonjun says, sighing. "I just… like him a lot."
"Uh-huh."
Yeonjun lightly hits Taehyun's chest.
"Maybe someday, when we're a year or two in, and I'm sure about my feelings for him."
"You know there's different kinds of love right?" Taehyun whispers. Which is a good idea, because the next second, Beomgyu is making his way out of his room to the door and blows them air kisses before he leaves.
Yeonjun closes his eyes, leaning back into Taehyun. "Yeah, there are."
"I tell him I love him everyday."
"But that's different."
"Exactly." Taehyun's hand in Yeonjun's hair starts moving carefully on his sensitive scalp. "Loving people as a person— as a friend, is easy. Romantically, not so much, because there's more vulnerability involved. I guess it's because it has a bigger possibility of evolving into deep devotion, like marriage.
"But, why can't friendship go that far? It's just the absence of fizzy candy in your stomach at the thought of your… person."
"I don't get your point."
"I don't have one, I'm just speaking my thoughts."
"Oh."
"I think what I mean to say is… I don't understand romance. That's all."
"But do you feel it?"
"I don't know. I'm not great at sorting out my feelings," Taehyun's chest rumbles as he laughs. "What I feel for Beomgyu is so different. We tried dating once — it didn't work out. We're not friends, either."
"I see."
"Do you… find it weird? Not that I care. I'm curious."
"I think it's special. You should keep it that way," Yeonjun flips over, now face-to-face with Taehyun as he straddles his torso.
"I've been planning on it since years ago," Taehyun says, his gaze warm and heavy, and Yeonjun doesn’t hold himself back when he leans in.
The phrase falling in love is usually reserved for when your heart drops from the climax of a roller coaster, isn’t it? Or anything similar.
Yet Yeonjun is on the flat ground of the Earth, understanding Taehyun a little more whenever their lips meld together.
Taehyun’s requests of “can I kiss you?”s sound more like “can I pinch your cheek?”. Because honestly, it does feel that way ― except instead of fingers and the protruding apples of his face, it’s Taehyun’s teeth on Yeonjun’s lips.
Yeonjun will say yes, finding his home in Taehyun’s lap, and let him explore his lips however he wants to. It’s like cuddling, just like plain skin on skin. Very, very different to the fluttering Yeonjun has in his stomach while kissing Beomgyu.
With Beomgyu, it’s the release of a flurry of butterflies in his chest, sending shivers up and down his spine when the boy plants his lips on his neck. Thrilling and fresh. Like the scent of lemonade popsicles Yeonjun gets from the booth in his neighbourhood during summer break.
With Taehyun, it simply… feels. Yeonjun feels him; When Taehyun curiously prods into his mouth with his tongue without much lust, and tugs on his bottom lip with his teeth to see how many times he can do it before Yeonjun giggles and complains.
It’s like playing with your friend’s (e.g. Soobin) cheeks to challenge its stretchiness, except it’s not. It’s supposed to be intimate and romantic, except it’s not. There’s many exceptions that Yeonjun discovers when it comes to himself and Taehyun.
He’s just happy to have his boy’s ― that’s what he decides to call him for now ― thighs bracketed by his own, and comfortably resting his nose in the crook of his neck after a long day when Beomgyu isn’t there. It’s like a good friend, but better. More attentive and conscious of his wants.
“Is this how you and Beomgyu are?” Yeonjun asks Taehyun one day after a particularly soft makeout session, slowly coming down from their high.
It happened on the floor, in their usual position, with Taehyun with his back against the couch and the glass coffee table behind Yeonjun nearly bumping into his hip. Yeonjun is convinced any area of the house can be comfortable if it’s with Taehyun.
Taehyun hums, his thumbs rubbing on Yeonjun’s hip bones. “Different, but similar.”
“How?” Yeonjun adjusts his seating, bringing one leg over to the other side. Taehyun opts to sling both his arms around his waist.
“With him…” Taehyun’s eyes dart upwards as he thinks. “It brewed slowly. We weren’t that close until half a year into our friendship. Then, it escalated from high school, and it was enough to make me follow him to uni.”
Yeonjun gapes. “Wow. You love him, huh.”
“I do.” Taehyun nods, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. “With you, it feels more, how do I say. Fun.”
“What a coincidence. Same for me.” Yeonjun reaches up to play with one of Taehyun’s earrings. “We should go to the arcade sometime.”
“With Beomgyu?”
“With me? What?”
Yeonjun jumps at the voice of the devil, standing behind him, very much looking not like a devil in his oversized cardigan and loose sweats.
“Yeonjun hyung wants to go to an arcade together,” Taehyun says, hoisting Yeonjun further up his lap. “Wanna go?”
“Double date?” Beomgyu grins, taking his seat on the floor next to them. He ruffles Yeonjun’s hair and pecks Taehyun’s cheek. “I’m in.”
“Well, technically, it’s a single date with three people,” Taehyun elaborates.
“Doesn’t matter. Hyung, kiss me too,” Beomgyu says, and who is Yeonjun to say no? He leans forward, pressing a sweet kiss on Beomgyu’s lips, which lingers a little too long for Yeonjun to be comfortable in his current position.
“Okay, that’s it,” He says when they part, pushing Beomgyu away when he leans in for another. “Let’s get on the couch, please.”
This becomes routine. Yeonjun has even jokingly offered to move into their apartment, and the soulmates had shared a very serious look, flustering Yeonjun for the rest of that day.
Summer is here, and it’s hot. Yeonjun pulls out a stick of red bean ice cream from the fridge.
“Is this any good?” He asks his boyfriend who’s sitting on the counter with his sleeves rolled up to his shoulder, occupied by his phone.
“That’s my favourite,” Beomgyu says after sparing him a glance. “If you eat it, buy me another one later.”
“Sure,” Yeonjun shrugs, and pushes the ice cream up to pop the package open. No harm in trying something new.
“As hot as it is, close the fridge. None of us are rich,” Beomgyu points to the open fridge door. Yeonjun rolls his eyes as he shoves his confection into his mouth, obeying his dear boyfriend.
Yeonjun hums at the flavour. “It tastes weird.”
“It tastes like Taehyun,” Beomgyu comments. Yeonjun’s about to question him about it, but the more he compares it to Taehyun, it makes sense.
“Guys?” Taehyun calls from outside the kitchen.
“Yeah?” Beomgyu replies.
In a moment, Taehyun shows up in the doorway with a pot of sunflowers in his little hands. “Why do we have flowers in here?”
“Oh, I bought them,” Yeonjun says, sitting on one of the chairs near the counter.
Taehyun looks at the flowers in confusion, then back at Yeonjun. “Why?”
“Because I love you guys.”
The room is silent for a heartbeat. Yeonjun looks away, regretting his decision instantly. His ice cream is dripping onto his fingers.
“S― Sorry. Pretend I didn’t―”
“I love you too,” Beomgyu says.
“Me, too.” Taehyun places the sunflowers onto the kitchen counter, right next to where Beomgyu sits. “I love you both.”
Is it supposed to be this easy?
“Hyung, don’t cry,” Beomgyu laughs gently, welcoming Yeonjun’s head into his chest. There’s a comforting hand on the small of his back.
“I’m not crying.”
Summer two years ago, when Yeonjun came back to his hometown during break.
He’s cycling down the street in his neighbourhood on his old bike from middle school, suddenly in need for a dose of nostalgia. The evening wind picks up, cooling the sweat on his forehead.
Three months away from this place feels so long when you’re used to being here every day. Yeonjun supposes it’s a part of growing up that he has to accept, so he does, readily.
As he rides his bike down another street, he notices two moving shadows on the top of a roof, backlit by the setting sun. When he comes closer, he registers the shadows as two boys with their foreheads connected, their hands weaved together.
Yeonjun looks away with a smile. Silently, he waits for a day where he doesn’t have to come home to an empty house.