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Choi Beomgyu was not a gossip.
He just liked to be aware of everyone around him. He thrived on knowing everything about everyone, storing little crumbs of information in a specially curated room in his mind palace. Taehyun would call him a ‘gossiping busybody’, but then again, Taehyun was a tasteless brat who, despite his complaints, pestered Beomgyu to share his meticulously collected information with him, so he usually elected to ignore whatever the red-head would mutter under his breath.
Anyway.
This particular quality of Beomgyu made him the most powerful person in the room at any given time, even if he wasn’t as strong as Taehyun was. It was how he convinced Wooyoung to do the brunt of his Lit 101 assignment, and how he had convinced the owner of the cafe he worked at to raise the measly 7 dollars an hour they paid their baristas to a crisp 10 dollars. People should be thanking him, honestly. He was one of those behind-the-scenes heroes, who always got shit thrown at them for being the way they were, but were the ones who actually made a difference. The world didn’t run on politeness and etiquette. Beomgyu just knew how to adapt.
But. But, but, but. His greatest failure.
In spite of all his (justified) pride in his ability to just know, he didn’t know jackshit about Choi Soobin.
Backtrack a bit to two years ago, when the world wasn’t locked up in suffocating flats with uncooperative roommates.
Beomgyu was another new face in the grand auditorium, packed in like sardines with other freshmen who had shown up for Orientation Week. Among them all, there was one who stood out, towering above the rest with a shy blush atop his squishy cheeks and the cutest dimples that Beomgyu ever had the fortune of setting his eyes on. That boy (man? divine being?) was Beomgyu’s greatest failure.
Choi Soobin was an enigma, and the worst part of it was that he didn’t even try. He stuck to another towering young-faced boy, whose name was something too long to remember so most people just called him Kai, and kept to his business with an enviable single-minded focus. He attended all his classes (he was a Lit major, Beomgyu knew that much at least) and submitted all his assignments and always stayed at the top of his class. He was sickeningly perfect, and Beomgyu desperately itched to know more.
It was not for lack of trying on his part, though. He had tried to invite Soobin to parties and other college shenanigans, but he would always flash Beomgyu a sheepish grin and say “Parties aren’t really my thing, sorry.” and not show up anywhere. He had tried to ask him for help with assignments, which Soobin did readily and ethically, but he didn’t offer up any information about himself during their caffeine-fuelled meetings at the college cafe.
Beomgyu hadn’t given up, but the entire universe seemed to be against him collecting his tidbits of information about Soobin, because the shitshow that was quarantine began right as Beomgyu thought he had made some progress (Soobin had texted a meme on their Lit group chat voluntarily. Baby steps).
It took a few weeks for their classes to move online, something that was a very out-of-body experience for all of them, and by that time, Beomgyu was too drained to focus on anything but logging in on time and pressing submit on the ever-increasing number of assignments in his inbox. As much as he liked to believe otherwise, Beomgyu wasn’t immune to college blues.
Now though, after the least eventful summer of his life, sophomore year wasn’t looking very welcome, but at least he had mastered the art of joining lectures, giving attendance and falling asleep. The “Is my mic on mute? Is my video off?” anxiety had mostly passed, and Beomgyu was armed with alarming determination to learn more about Soobin, at least through the flashes of his home life he would inevitably reveal with the compulsory “Videos on” rule that was enforced by their professors.
His eagle eyes zeroed in on Soobin’s window the minute the 10 a.m. lecture started. The boy was sitting in a fancy gamer’s chair in all his glory, a pair of stylish glasses perched precariously low on his nose. His hair looked unstyled, but still fell into place far better than Beomgyu could ever manage with gel, and he wore a loose black t-shirt, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he sipped on a coffee.
In short, he looked way too fucking attractive for 10 a.m. on a Monday morning. Beomgyu simultaneously loved and abhorred it.
There was a poster on the wall behind him, with words that Beomgyu could read individually but had no idea what they meant together, because English was a fucking pain in the ass to learn.
I PAID A $120,000 FOR SOMEONE TO TELL ME TO GO READ JANE AUSTEN AND THEN I DIDN’T.
Soobin knew English then? It wasn’t surprising, considering Beomgyu was pretty sure the tall boy who hung around Soobin was partially American, but he had never considered the fact before. Another point went down under his slowly growing “Facts about Choi Soobin'' list, one that, frankly, had barely two things under it.
Behind the fancy chair that Soobin sat on, there was a barely visible bed, a double or a queen, Beomgyu thought, which seemed far too big for one person to occupy. The bed was messy, messier than Beomgyu expected from someone like Soobin, but he supposed every man had his faults. There were hoodies haphazardly thrown across the blue patterned sheets, and Beomgyu could swear there was a boxer hanging from the top of the second, partially hidden chair.
Professor Kim cleared his throat to begin the lecture, but Beomgyu was too entranced by the slope of Soobin’s nose and the way the shadow of his glasses danced on his face to pay much attention. It was Art History anyway. He could manage it on his own.
yah, his phone buzzed, stop staring at soobin and pay attention, dumbass.
Beomgyu spluttered. The nerve of Wooyoung!
wdym, he typed back, slightly indignant, how do you even know who i’m staring at??
bc i know he’s your one big failure or whtv, his phone pinged, and you’ve been obsessed with finding out more like some crazy stalker, Wooyoung responded immediately, and Beomgyu was concerned by the sheer observation powers that his friend had.
shut up, he huffed eloquently (well, huffing didn’t translate to text, but Beomgyu hoped that Wooyoung would understand the sentiment, what with his 10/10 observation skills), turning off his phone and looking back at Soobin’s tiny window.
Wooyoung could go jump off a boat. He was going to stare at Soobin till he found out more about him, even if it was at the expense of his Art History grade.
His priorities were very straight, thank you very much.
Beomgyu yawned as Professor Cho droned on, his eyes glazing over in boredom. The novelty of sophomore year had worn off very fast, and by the third week, it was monotonous hell to attend classes. Why were degrees needed to get good jobs anyway? How fucking capitalistic of the world, making everyone pay through their noses to get a flimsy piece of paper that usually had nothing to do with the job that they would get. Beomgyu wished he could muster up the passion to protest, but he was too lazy.
He opened his email on his phone, flabbergasted by the sheer amount of boredom he felt in every cell of his body to even consider opening his email . Another new one from the Student Council blinked white in Beomgyu’s inbox. He would usually ignore it, but he eyed this one with curiosity. The subject line was a very attractive “Dance Club has shifted online! Sign-ups open!”
Anything to break this shitty monotony, he thought.
Beomgyu needed the exercise anyway.
Beomgyu had never been more thankful for his short attention span and the repetitive bullshit that was college classes. He would never have signed up for Dance Club on a whim otherwise.
He would never have gotten to witness this.
“Hi,” the pink-haired boy grinned brightly on his screen, blinding him, “Welcome to the dance club!”
Beomgyu could see everyone staring, mouths slightly agape as they took in the vision before them. He would usually never resort to such blatant displays of awe (he had class, thank you very much), but this situation called for it. The boy was beautiful.
“My name’s Yeonjun,” he continued, seemingly oblivious to the attention on him, “and I’m a junior! Some of you might have seen me around campus before, but I guess the hair really makes a difference, huh?” he chuckled, his eyes crinkling.
Beomgyu decidedly didn’t have time for a crush, but holy crap.
“Anyway, I’ve been a part of the club since my freshman year, so I get the wonderful job of being in charge of you guys now,” Yeonjun drawled, his voice somehow attractive even through Beomgyu’s shitty speakers, “so if I could just cross-check the list I have to the number of people who’ve shown up today, we can get right down to business!”
Taehyun, Beomgyu texted frantically, Taehyun, the dance club dude is fucking hot.
Who is it? Taehyun responded immediately, perpetually online to reply to everyone instantly on KKT. Times like this, it was a blessing.
He said his name was Yeonjun?
Oh Jun-hyung!, Taehyun responded (Beomgyu raised an eyebrow at the audacity of Taehyun knowing someone as godly as Yeonjun and not telling him) he’s in english club with me.
He speaks english too? Beomgyu bemoaned. How were some people so obviously favoured by the gods? It wasn’t fair.
“-er, Choi Beomgyu?”
Beomgyu snapped back to attention, the tips of his ears blushing siren red as he saw Yeonjun staring expectedly from his screen. “I’m here,” he croaked, embarrassment overtaking his face.
“Nice to meet you, dude!” Yeonjun smiled, and Beomgyu wanted to die , “Choi mates gotta unite, you hear me?”
Beomgyu nodded in a daze. Yeonjun moved on to the next name on his list, but Beomgyu remained stuck, hysterically wondering how he was supposed to learn anything this year if all his energy would be used towards investigating Soobin and stopping himself from having a crush on Yeonjun.
lmao good luck not having a crush on him, everyone does, Taehyun had texted while he was answering (marveling at) Yeonjun. pretty sure he has a bf tho.
Of course he does, Beomgyu snorted derisively. At least he hadn’t gone and dreamt up scenarios about him and Yeonjun together yet. Small mercies.
Yeonjun clapped his hands on screen, the sound far too sharp compared to what Beomgyu imagined it would have sounded like if he were physically in front of them, and he grinned once again. “Okay, some basic stuff before we try to learn choreographies over Zoom.”
Beomgyu steeled himself. He would pay attention and he would try to be the best fucking dancer in this group if it meant he could be friends with Yeonjun. He needed cooler friends than Taehyun anyway.
(He was kidding. Taehyun was the best. But Yeonjun was different, he thought. A different type of cool.)
Dance club meetings were slowly becoming the highlight of Beomgyu’s entire pathetic life. His not-crush on Yeonjun aside, he had discovered that dance was something he genuinely enjoyed, and was shockingly good at. He had blushed when Yeonjun had praised his form, much to his embarrassment, but he glowed with pride. As self-confident as he was, compliments always flustered him.
It also turned out that he wasn’t the only one who had a not-crush on Yeonjun (it’s not like he expected otherwise. His attractiveness aside, Yeonjun was insanely good at dancing and unfailingly sweet. He was sickeningly perfect, much like a certain dimpled sophomore that Beomgyu knew). A majority of the members would join dance club meetings fifteen minutes early, in the hopes of having a conversation with Yeonjun and getting some tips to improve their dancing. The pink-haired boy obliged them everytime, smiling in gratitude every time someone would praise his dancing.
Nothing much else interesting happened during Dance Club, though, and Yeonjun’s life outside of his screen seemed as mysterious as he was. He always danced in front of a blank white wall, and there seemed to be no echoes of his life at home reflected on his screen. Beomgyu was not a stalker, he swore (and anything Wooyoung or Taehyun said was irrelevant), but he wanted to know more.
It seemed like his wish would be granted today.
Yeonjun had his regular set-up, but it was in front of a different wall this time (it spoke volumes about Beomgyu that he could tell the difference between walls). Club wasn’t to officially begin till a few more minutes, so a few of them were catching up, talking about some TikTok challenge that they wanted to learn.
Suddenly, a triumphant yell sounded from what seemed like Yeonjun’s house, along with a vaguely familiar voice screeching “HA! Get that, ya asshole! ” in accented English. Beomgyu could see the dozen odd people who had already joined the meeting wince at the sheer volume of the yell.
Yeonjun grimaced.
“Guys!” he yelled back in English, “Dance club, remember?”
A muffled ‘Sorry!’ echoed from outside the room, and Yeonjun rolled his eyes.
“I’m sorry for the noise,” he apologised, a fondly annoyed expression on his face, “but my roommates seem to forget that there is life outside of League.”
There were a few chuckles at that, along with a “Hey, my roomie and I need a few for our team, you could hook us up!” that Yeonjun laughed at, promising that he would.
It’s whatever. Beomgyu didn’t need some video game obsessed friends anyway.
“Can’t you shut the door?” a girl, Arin, he thought her name was, asked, at which Yeonjun let out a long suffering sigh.
“I would shut it if I could,” he frowned (even his frown was cute, what the hell?), “but the WiFi in this room is shit and it somehow seems to work better with the door open? So you’ll have to bear with me till my boyfriend cleans up our room so there’ll actually be enough space for me to dance there again. He’s such a slob,” he breathed out a laugh.
Oh, Beomgyu’s attention piqued. The ever elusive boyfriend.
You see, Beomgyu had done his research after the first meeting. All the sophomores and the few juniors that Beomgyu knew told him that Yeonjun had a boyfriend, but no one really knew who he was. All the parties that Yeonjun had showed up to, he had never brought anyone along, always sipping on a can of Coke while talking to his friends before dancing for a few hours and leaving. Beomgyu suspected that Yeonjun attended only to keep up appearances and dance, something that he assumed his boyfriend was uncomfortable with doing.
“Is your boyfriend in our college?” someone dared to ask, and Beomgyu wanted to send them a gift basket.
“Oh!” Yeonjun’s expression brightened, and Beomgyu would have melted at the fact that Yeonjun was so in love with his boyfriend if he wasn’t distracted by how wide his smile was, “He is! He’s a sophomore, actually!”
What the fuck. Yeonjun’s boyfriend was in his year?
Everyone seemed to have come to the same conclusion, staring at Yeonjun with their jaws dropped as he continued speaking. “He’s very shy, though, so I don’t really know if any of you know him?”
Beomgyu’s brain felt like someone had aggressively keyboard-smashed by jumping on their phone.
“Anyway,” Yeonjun smiled, “I think everyone’s here now. Let’s get down to business!”
Beomgyu didn’t think anyone paid attention to dancing that day.
Wooyoung, the second half of Beomgyu’s soul, the yin to his yang, was the only reason Beomgyu was grinning like a maniac while actually paying attention in Art History today.
yo gyu, he had texted, we have a group project coming up and i think i can hook us up w soobin.
Fuck all the times Beomgyu had said Wooyoung was a pain in the ass. Wooyoung was now the love of his life.
AJSDHG??!!, had been his very normal response. I OWE U OMG ILY.
Beomgyu could imagine the smirk on Wooyoung’s face as he read that message. It’s okay. He didn’t mind feeding his ego if it meant that he got to be in a group with Soobin.
He clicked on the link that Wooyoung had sent him with barely concealed glee, his heart picking up in pace when he saw Soobin’s video on, the boy smiling softly at something off screen. Ring-adorned fingers came up to ruffle his hair and pull his ears, and Soobin pouted up at the unseen person before batting the hand away. Beomgyu wanted to cry. How was one man allowed to be that cute?
“Oh,” Soobin’s eyes widened when he looked back at his screen. “Hi Beomgyu! Didn’t realise you’d already joined, sorry!”
“Oh-uh,” Beomgyu stuttered, cursing his dumb brain that gave up around cute boys, “It’s no problem, I just joined. Hi Soobin!”
Soobin flashed him a grin before turning to the unknown person off screen, muttering a “I have a meeting now, hyung, I’ll clean up after that, I swear,” before muting his mic, his face contorting into something pleading as he probably apologised for the actual pig-sty that his room was.
So it was Soobin who was messy. Well, another point added to Beomgyu’s list, then.
“Hey Gyu,” Wooyoung drawled as he joined, and Beomgyu glared when he saw the smirk and obnoxious wiggling eyebrows. Breathe Beomgyu, he told himself, murder is illegal, even if you’re doing a favour to the world by offing him. You’re too pretty for prison.
“Hi Wooyoung,” Soobin exclaimed. “Thanks for organising this, by the way. Kai isn’t in this class, so I didn’t know who would even want to team up with me.”
Everyone, you idiot, Beomgyu wanted to glower. Honestly. What an oblivious fool.
“It’s no problem,” Wooyoung smiled, “San’s supposed to join us too, so let’s wait for a few minutes?”
Both Beomgyu and Soobin nodded, and the meeting descended to awkward silence.
“Oh, Soobin!” Wooyoung suddenly exclaimed, and Beomgyu braced himself for potential embarrassment, as well as the pleasurable shiver that would involuntarily creep down his back when Soobin would respond in his ever so deep voice, “Do you dance?”
“No way,” Soobin chuckled, “I have like, five left legs, I swear.”
“I find it so hard to believe that,” Wooyoung narrowed his eyes, “But maybe it’s because you’re so tall. You know it’s not fair to the rest of us, right?”
Soobin laughed at that, his eyes twinkling in mirth; and Beomgyu thought that he could see the entire galaxy in them, even through the non-HD quality of his video. He brought up his (very large, holy shit) hand to cover his deepening dimples, and Beomgyu wanted to beg him to put his hand down so he could stare at the way his squishy cheeks were pushed up with cute little craters on either side of his face for a few hours, at least until he remembered how to breathe again.
“My boyfriend says the same thing,” Soobin grinned, and the train of daydreams that Beomgyu had boarded screeched to a sudden halt, his heart jumping to his throat at the whiplash of the intense jealousy crawling down his spine.
Wooyoung looked surprised at the comment, his eyes briefly softening into something sympathetic, no doubt directed at Beomgyu, before they sharpened with curiosity.
“Didn’t know you had a boyfriend, Soobin,” he remarked, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. “You never talk about yourself!”
“Yeah,” Soobin smiled apologetically, “I don’t really know how to bring up stuff about myself, sorry.”
“Ho-'' Beomgyu cut himself off, mortified at how squeaky his voice sounded. He cleared his throat, pointedly ignoring Wooyoung’s amused gaze. “How long have you guys been dating?”
Soobin’s expression melted into something softer yet infinitely brighter, and Beomgyu just knew that they were in love. “Uh- almost two years now? Since before freshman year,” he blushed lightly, obviously self-conscious.
“That long!” Wooyoung exclaimed.
“I mean, we’ve known each other since elementary, so it actually feels longer,” he admitted, the tips of his ears a bright red. “We both liked each other, but he’s a year older so we didn’t want to start anything if I wasn’t going to the same college as he was.”
Beomgyu wanted to cry, but he composed himself very valiantly, saying “Didn’t peg you to be romantic enough to follow your boyfriend to college, Soobin.”
Soobin frantically shook his head, and Beomgyu had to stop his brain from going “ Cute ” at the way his eyes widened and his hair flopped. “No, no, this was both our first choices. I just wasn’t sure if I’d be good enough to get in.”
“Good enough,” Wooyoung scoffed. “Soobin, you’re the most diligent person in this course, hell, probably among all the sophomores. Don’t doubt yourself.”
Soobin scratched the back of his neck sheepishly, his face glowing from the compliment. “Thank you,” he said shyly, “and I’m sorry for not talking much about myself. I didn’t realise that you guys were interested in hearing about my boring life.”
Interested, Beomgyu wanted to scoff, I’ve been obsessed with knowing more, you asshole.
A sudden ding sounded from the screen, followed by San’s flustered face as his video turned on. “I’m so sorry for being late,” he gasped, as if he had run a marathon, “My roommates almost set our house on fire, and we couldn’t find the fire extinguisher, so there was this whole, er, situation.”
Beomgyu had to hand it to the eccentricities of college life that he wasn’t even fazed by what San had said. “You good now?”
“Yeah, yeah,” San panted. “Sorry for delaying y’all, we can start working on the project now!”
All hopes of finding out more about Soobin’s boyfriend flew out of the window at that statement, because Soobin was the biggest stickler for deadlines and probably wouldn’t tolerate any gossip while he was working. Beomgyu grumbled to himself as he pulled up a new Word document, reluctantly noting down guidelines and prompts.
Of course Soobin would be dating someone. It’s not like anyone Beomgyu remotely liked would ever be available. God, he hated it here.
Beomgyu yawned as soon as their group project meeting began, much to Wooyoung’s distaste.
“Choi Beomgyu, I swear if you fall asleep during our meeting because you were watching some drama till 3 a.m., no one will find your body,” he threatened, San and Soobin both giggling as they watched the interaction.
“I won’t, I won’t,” Beomgyu pacified him, rubbing his eyes tiredly. (Yes, he had been watching Vincenzo till 4 a.m., not that Wooyoung needed to know.)
“Alright, I’ll just share my screen and we can proceed,” Soobin said, the incessant clicking of his mouse prickling at Beomgyu’s ears. “So, since we decided we were digging further into medieval Europe, I thought we could focus most on Romanesque, which I’ve highlighted-”
“Soobin, we can’t see your screen,” Wooyoung interrupted his spiel, the mic crackling when he unmuted himself.
“What the hell,” Soobin muttered, his eyes furrowed. “I could’ve sworn I’d shared it, sorry. Let me do it again.”
A flurry of clicks followed, the boy’s face growing from confused to befuddled as he stared at his screen. Beomgyu wanted nothing more than to press his fingers against the wrinkles on Soobin’s forehead, smoothen them out and press his lips to his temple.
Yes , he was aware of how dumbly delusional his brain was. He was dealing with it, okay?
“We still can’t see it,” San said sympathetically, and Beomgyu could relate to the crestfallen expression on Soobin’s face. They were all well acquainted with the pains of having uncooperative devices and shitty internet.
Soobin groaned, bringing his hand up to rub it against his head. “Okay,” he huffed. “I think the problem’s with my laptop, so I’m gonna go switch to another device. I’ll leave the meeting and join again in a minute, sorry.”
Wooyoung waved him off, turning his attention back to his phone when Soobin left. Beomgyu sighed, bored, opening Instagram on his phone for the tenth time that day. There was nothing new on his feed except some asshole posting about a trip to the beach. He wished Soobin were on Instagram, if only so he could stare at his face outside of college hours.
“-yeah, it’s just not working, I don’t know why!” Soobin’s voice filtered through Beomgyu’s headphones again.
An amused huff sounded, vaguely familiar, with a cutting “So all that money you dropped to buy your fancy ass gaming laptop was for nothing, huh?”
“Shut up, hyung,” Soobin’s face came into view in surprisingly high quality, the screen reflected on his glasses as his eyes flitted all over the screen.
“You know I’m right,” the voice snorted, and Beomgyu’s mind itched as he tried to place the voice, “You and Kai spent so much money on your laptops just for them to give up on you randomly! I told you, you should’ve gotten just one gaming PC and invested in some functional laptops instead.”
Beomgyu was inclined to agree with the voice. Smart voice, that.
Soobin shushed the unseen owner of the voice, batting his hands to the side. He looked petulant as he bit his plush bottom lip, and Beomgyu cooed. It should be illegal for someone to look that cute, but he was going to revel in it as much as he could before he met Soobin’s mysterious boyfriend.
“Yah! I’m giving you my laptop, show me some respect!”
Soobin rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t mean. No. In fact, Beomgyu would go as far as to call it fond, which was an expression he had never seen on Soobin before except when he was talking about his -
Oh. Oh.
This was his boyfriend.
Soobin’s boyfriend was in front of them (well, no, but you get the point). Soobin would be sharing his boyfriend’s laptop screen. Beomgyu’s last four functioning brain cells were not ready for this.
Wooyoung and San seemed oblivious to his Big revelation, instead snickering away at the ring-adorned fingers that came up to ruffle Soobin’s hair before pulling on his squishy cheeks in punishment for the apparent disrespect.
Shit. This meant that the person who’d asked Soobin to clean his room was his boyfriend. Beomgyu didn’t think that they would be living together, but it should’ve been evident from the way Soobin spoke of him and the fact that they’d known each other since elementary and had somehow migrated to the same college. Beomgyu was a dumbass.
The video suddenly blinked off.
“Wait,” the boyfriend sounded closer to the mic now, “Sorry guys, I was using the laptop for dance so it was connected to the webcam, and that drinks in power like anything so,” his voice trailed off and then, “Okay, all good now. Sorry for the interruptions!”
Soobin’s video blinked on again.
Beomgyu dropped his phone with a resounding crack.
Because.
Because.
There, in plain view of the camera, stood Choi Yeonjun, head of Dance Club, second subject of Beomgyu’s sappy yet slightly sexual dreams, in all his handsome and fluffy-haired glory.
There he stood, with his goddamn pink hair, clad in an oversized white t-shirt with a necklace dangling out, one hand resting around Soobin's neck and the other supposedly holding a mouse, his eyes furrowed as he clicked many things on the screen in quick succession.
There he stood, with one hand covered by Soobin’s own long fingers tangled through them, his body pressed to Soobin's side as he leant on him, both of them comfortably melted on each other as if they'd assumed the same position a million times before, which they probably had.
There he stood, with a victorious grin lighting up his face as the laptop finally seemed to comply with him, the screen changing to a Word document with highlighted points.
Soobin exhaled in relief at that, completely oblivious to Wooyoung, San and Beomgyu staring at him with their jaws dropped hilariously in sync. It wasn't funny.
"Thank you, hyung," he smiled sweetly, his dimples fully on display as he leveled the full force of his adorable gaze on Yeonjun. To Yeonjun's credit, he didn't seem as flabbergasted and willing to do Soobin's will as Beomgyu felt, the look affecting him through the screen even when it wasn't directed at him. God knows he'd do anything Soobin asked of him if he smiled at him like that.
Yeonjun just squeezed their joint hands, bending down to press a kiss onto Soobin's no doubt soft and sweet-smelling hair, flicking the underside of his chin with his free hand before detangling himself from his boyfriend.
“I’ll leave you to it then,” he said, stretching his hands above his head before walking off camera, leaning back in range to wave at the screen as an afterthought.
Oh, Beomgyu thought faintly, his four functional brain cells working in overtime to connect the very blatantly obvious dots, of course. It all made sense.
That was the last moment of blissful silence, before the meeting dissolved into hysteric chaos.
TAEHYUGLJDG
??? whats wrong now
SOOBIN!!
AND YEONJUN
DJHGSJHGS
yh ik you’re in love with them but what happened?
THEY’RE DATING!!!?!?
TAEHYUN THE 2 DUDES I HAVE A CRUSH ON ARE DATING EACH OTHER
I HATE IT HERE