Archive of Our Own

Yeonjun noticed it first.

He wasn’t the most observant, but he knew Taehyun long enough, which was the green light to make way for his conclusion. He didn’t want to assume at first, so he stayed quiet for a while, hoping to get his friend to realize it too.

He knew Taehyun was awfully clingy. No matter how many times the younger would deny it, at the end of the day, Taehyun would always prove himself wrong. It has been like that ever since they were kids. He never played with a group unless Yeonjun was in it, never went down the slide without him behind his back so Taehyun could squeeze between his legs and use his knees like some kind of an improvised seatbelt.

They have those dumb sibling rivalries too.

Yeonjun would always snap a twin popsicle inside the wrapper for a better chance to half it evenly because they would bicker on who should get the bigger piece until sundown, until it melted on their palms and their mother would have to wash their sticky hands. She would shake her head and say "Boys!" as if it were a bad thing, but always there was a twitch of a smile.

To put it simply, with Yeonjun, there’s always Taehyun.

Yeonjun’s not the only one with the clingy treatment; everyone in his close circle gets to be showered with his skinship, so he was surprised when Taehyun began to stiffen.

That was the most surprising because he also knows that Taehyun likes to receive the same amount of love he gives, so at first, Yeonjun assumed that his friend was uncomfortable with this particular person. He understands well because no matter how much Taehyun would try his best to look with his eyes that carry the stars or talk with someone like he could share his innermost secrets, Yeonjun would always see through him.

Brother telepathy. Yeonjun’s proud of that, though he doesn’t even know whether that kind of thing is real.

But he changed his mind when he noticed that Taehyun only stiffened when that particular person was Kai.

It was odd because Yeonjun could remember clearly as day when Taehyun got home from school and talked his ear off about his new friend, saying that the teacher introduced him as a new student. He stood tall and didn’t precisely look Korean with his edgy features, starting from his semi-hooded eyes down to his long legs.

The boy calls himself Kai Kamal Huening. He insisted his classmates to call him Kai, or “Hue-ka” and Yeonjun remembers Taehyun saying the nickname struck him weird yet seemed like the perfect fit for him.

He likes plushies—especially Molang—God, he showed me a picture of his bed, and they’re occupying, like, three-fourths of it!

Yeonjun also recalled about two months later, when he requested Kai to stick around for dinner because they had this heavy project together that took until evening to finish, and Kai was too friendly to decline.

It was strange for Taehyun to make a connection so quickly and gain his trust so readily. Yeonjun figured that he simply just couldn't resist the warmth, sincerity, and tenderness of spirit in the way Kai smiled. He didn't just listen to get him “turn” over with so he could go on to something else; instead, he seemed to be taking in what he had to say. The more time Taehyun spent with him, the more his spirit lifted.

The same fondness seemed to reflect on Kai’s eyes. That was more than fine with Yeonjun, as he could see the radiance and affection in his eyes grow stronger whenever he responded with equal enthusiasm or just when absorbing whatever Taehyun had to put down.

Dinner turned into a sleepover.

This time, Kai tried to turn down the offer.

I appreciate your hospitality, Yeonjun-hyung, but I don’t want to bother you guys anymore.

Nonsense! You’re welcome here anytime. Let me contact your mother, so she doesn’t get worried. You can borrow my clothes too! I’ll even tell you embarrassing stories about Taehyun. I think his photo album’s still here.

The last bit was probably the one that bought the younger off.

They played all sorts of games. The classic truth or dare and ‘would you rather?’. Taehyun even pulled out his cards and did all the magic tricks he could do. Pillow fight. It would be the end of the world if Yeonjun and Taehyun didn’t get to bash each other’s heads.

When it got too exhausting even to raise a hand or dust started to enter their eyes and nose, they finally plopped down on the floor, and collectively decided to binge a random Netflix series.

They knew how to make things entertaining, even with just three of them. Yeonjun was pretty sure they slept when they heard the roosters crowing.

But that night, when no one else seemed to notice, Yeonjun did.

Taehyun probably did too.

Taehyun stiffened whenever Kai linked his arms with him.

He would sit up straight and fall into a stuttering mess while his hand attempted to fidget with the hem of his pajamas.

Taehyun only stiffened when Kai turned his attention to something else, his eyes locking elsewhere, his back to Taehyun, his figure towering over him. At the same time, Taehyun could only stand motionless, in awe.

Taehyun stiffened when Kai giggled like a bubbly child, his shoulders rising, hand flying to his mouth to hide that he was grinning ear to ear, but you could already tell because his eyes were squinting so much they were practically closed.

And that’s how Yeonjun knew that his friend was in love.

Around a month or two after Yeonjun, Soobin noticed it too. He wishes he knew it much simpler rather than having him connect the dots or put puzzle pieces in their places, but love doesn’t work that way. Love doesn’t get handed to you on a silver plate.

He should’ve known right when Taehyun asked him about his neighbor who had recently transferred to their school.

The bell rang. The hallway began to fill with a bustle of chatter and flow with friends. Soobin could feel his fingers getting numb. He’s been on his phone while waiting for Taehyun. He finally got the chance to slip it into his pocket when he saw him squeezing himself out of the doorframe.

After straightening his now wrinkled uniform while scowling at those students who gave him a hard time passing, Taehyun looks at Soobin. “Hyung, can someone join us today?”

Soobin doesn’t mind. A new friend is harmless, so he nods his head for affirmation. Except it isn’t new when you hear Taehyun calling out a familiar name.

He knew Kai. He lives several steps away from his house. He and his family are sweet, as it was Soobin’s first impression when they moved in and offered him a batch of cookies. They hung out a few times, mainly because they kept running into each other in the bookstore, browsing the manga section.

It’s embarrassing. When their eyes meet by chance, Soobin instinctively darts his attention elsewhere in a flash, which he thinks was weird of him to do so. He made a mental note to not do that again as the poor boy might think he doesn’t want to be friends.

He let the awkward atmosphere loom over them until Kai eventually went up to him and started recommending his personal favorites.

So he nods his head as an affirmation of Taehyun’s request.

Lunch was fine. Taehyun typically carries the conversation while Soobin gives his full attention in return. He would leave comments on Taehyun’s stories between bites and try to sneak a piece or two from his food. He was never subtle, or at least he tries, but Soobin appreciates that Taehyun lets him.

Soobin immediately thinks that having two people running their mouths would be overwhelming.

Then he’s once again taken by surprise when he realizes that Taehyun and Kai suit well.

(He should’ve known the moment he thought of that.)

He was never deluged with the conversations they had. It’s as if both knew when Soobin wanted a quick pause or if he was about to say something.

How about you, Soobin-hyung?

I think Soobin-hyung…

Something with those lines.

They never said anything that could override his brain; everything was easy to listen to and kept his interest piqued. Soobin could live with this.

“Hyung, did Kai ask you anything about going to Namsan?”

Kai never mentioned Namsan. At least not with Soobin around.

“No, why?”

“Nothing,”

There it is. Taehyun and Kai are in their little world again. So much for the fate-formed friendship, Soobin thinks. He’s jealous; he’s not afraid to admit that to himself. He ignored them for a while because he understood that Taehyun had met Kai first, so there was no harm in getting to know him before Soobin got to.

It only became a problem for him when they started going out on their own, just when Soobin was trying to get closer to Kai.

“Well, if Kai asked you to go with him, then just go. Even if you guys wanted me to tag along, I’d decline. Too cold outside,” Soobin churns out another excuse. He can’t afford to mull over the various possibilities when he’s about to get replaced.

He didn’t have to think too much, though.

Because he should’ve known from how Taehyun talked about Kai when they were alone.

He should’ve known when Taehyun says Kai’s name, and his voice goes a tad bit higher, from his habit when he sees a stray kitten and ignores everything around him for a while to rush towards it. Or when they pass by a local store after a long day from school and Taehyun spots that his favorite ice cream is still in stock.

He should’ve known when Taehyun’s eyes twinkle brighter than usual as he comments on another one of Kai’s stories about his sisters.

It hits him altogether when he paid Yeonjun a visit to his house, and someone came home late.

Because Taehyun stepped in with a flower in his hand, and Kai was peeking behind him.

Pink azalea. Freshly picked and still blooming with its radiant blush. The way Taehyun was holding it—so precious and dainty—like the flower was meant to be picked and contained by his hands.

Soobin was merely a witness. He hasn’t a single clue about what happened between the two of them. But something about the sight looked so innocent and pristine as if it was watching a story unfold before his eyes or when you pick up your pen, and it touches the paper for the first time.

However, he was no fool. He was sure this time. It was a date in Namsan.

Soobin understood.

Love wasn’t loud and extensive. Love is soft; love is slow. One wouldn’t peg Beomgyu as someone who views love that way, but he knew just as much.

Beomgyu noticed because he spent the last years giving Taehyun the same look but got nothing in return.

He only joins Soobin and Taehyun for lunch on Thursdays. Initially, four of them went together but considering Yeonjun had graduated, Beomgyu was on a different schedule from the remaining two; it isn’t precisely your cookie-cutter group of friends anymore.

And on that particular Thursday, Beomgyu realized.

It happened not too long after Soobin; he was reading over his notes when he noticed that Taehyun was staring. Not at him, of course—he wishes that was the case—but at the new guy on their table, helping Taehyun with English, saying something about the Rs and Ls. Beomgyu had glanced up by chance, eyes landing on Taehyun like usual.

He tried to deny it. He tried to get angry. Not at Kai. No, the poor boy was just tutoring Taehyun on his consonants. It was about him and his feelings that he couldn’t directly get across, so he resorted to vague gazes and faint hints, which couldn’t, unfortunately, hit Taehyun right where he wanted to.

He wondered; why not him? Or Soobin? Why not Yeonjun?

But Yeonjun did not look at Taehyun with the same affection he had for him. Yeonjun loved Taehyun like a little brother. Soobin, on the other hand, had clearly established that his relationship with Taehyun was utterly platonic.

And Beomgyu? Beomgyu might just be another Yeonjun or Soobin.

Taehyun was a person. He was neither a task Beomgyu could complete nor a target he could strive for, and Beomgyu could never hide his feelings. He probably envied Kai.

He would’ve thought about putting matters into his own hands, marching up to Kai and telling him straight that Taehyun harbored feelings for him and there would be dire consequences if he tried to do something funny—if he hadn’t caught them kissing days later. Arm in arm underneath the golden hour, in an empty classroom, Kai’s arms were wrapped protectively around the lanky figure that was painfully familiar, whose hands were tangled in the taller’s hair.

It was hours right after school finished for the day, and Beomgyu would always pass by Taehyun’s room on his way out. He hadn’t expected to find someone inside, much less with company.

As someone who loves Taehyun, Beomgyu got the urge to slam his hand on the door and impede the scene. But as a friend, who wanted nothing but the best from Taehyun, he let them be. He didn’t want to take this away from him.

Beomgyu walks away from the halls and leaves the two shy teenagers who are learning how to love.