Archive of Our Own

The first time Chanhee sees Haknyeon, it's from behind his favorite pair of sunglasses and under the glare of the sun.

It's a warm Wednesday afternoon, so Chanhee is by the pool, facing the mansion. The expansive green garden behind him makes it so there’s a gentle breeze, perfectly fitting for a day outside. He's got a book with him—a Jane Austen novel, although he's deeply unsatisfied with the translation and thinking of switching to a different book—, wearing comfortable shorts and a blouse he can easily take off if he wants to take a dip. He doesn't, though. Too much of a hassle. It's a lazy day for him.

"Chanhee-sshi," Haknyeon greets, friendly, as he approaches.

He's clad in a horseback riding outfit, and a good one at that, from the tailored waistcoat to the shiny black boots. In one hand he's carrying a hat, his black hair blowing gently with the wind. He has a charming smile and even more charming eyes.

"Uhm, maybe I’m too early…? I thought our lesson would start at 2p.m., but I can come back later, if that would be better for you."

"Ju Haknyeon, yes?" Chanhee closes his book on a finger to keep his page and offers Haknyeon a sympathetic smile when he nods in assent. "I'm sorry, Haknyeon-sshi, there will be no lesson. I'll make sure you're compensated for your time, but since I wasn't the one who hired you and I have no interest in learning how to ride a horse, you're free to go."

Haknyeon shields his eyes to look at him, confused. "You didn't hire me?"

"Nope." The words come out bitter despite Chanhee's best efforts to mask it behind polite nonchalance. "My family did. I never agreed to it, so with all due respect, there's no point in your being here. You can go. I'll still pay you for your two full hours."

Chanhee expects that to be it. He opens his book again, ready to immerse himself in fiction and forget about his annoyingly boring real life, but after a moment he realizes Haknyeon hasn't moved. He looks up again to find Haknyeon smiling.

"Do you mind if I visit your stables?" He asks. "Since I'm already here, anyway. I've been told you have some beautiful Andalusians."

"My parents do, yes," Chanhee says. He's a little surprised that Haknyeon would ask that, but more so because he was expecting the man to just leave after being dismissed. "And of course. You can take them for a ride too, if you want. Would you like—" Making a decision, Chanhee closes his book again, this time without marking the page. "Well, I'll take you there myself."

"Oh, thank you."

They leave the pool area, walking past the patio with the outdoor set couches around the fire pit and across the gardens. Chanhee rarely ever comes this way, he explains conversationally to Haknyeon, to fill the silence. His mom is passionate about horses, and his father took a liking to horseback riding after they started dating, but Chanhee doesn't share the same interest, and never did. Even his brother comes over sometimes to ride with them, more amenable to it than Chanhee himself. Haknyeon engages readily in conversation, and by the time they get to the stables, he's explaining how he's the only one in his family with an actual interest in horseback riding.

"Maybe that's why I went all in with it, I'm passionate for all of them combined."

It's such a silly thing to say that Chanhee laughs, caught off guard. Haknyeon walks inside like he knows his way around stalls and wood shavings—differently from Chanhee, who stays by the door with his glasses pushed to the top of his head. He asks about names, but Chanhee doesn't know all of the horses. The stable boy should be back after lunch, and Chanhee relays that information to Haknyeon, who doesn't seem all that interested. He asks once again if it's ok for him to ride, and when he's told that yes, of course it is, he starts preparing Chanhee's horse for a ride. (Or rather, the horse Chanhee was gifted for his 25th birthday and never had much of a reason to get close to aside for some friendly scratches.)

That afternoon, Haknyeon rides Chanhee's horse for a while, and watching his form reminds Chanhee of what he has been told by his mother: that this was once an equestrian athlete, a young man from a good family who now offers horseback riding lessons to people from his social stratum.

She sounded impressed, and Chanhee can see why; Haknyeon looks comfortable on top of a horse, his posture impeccable, his mannerisms those of someone who has done this his whole life. He probably has, right? Chanhee looks him up quickly on his phone while Haknyeon is far away and sees a few articles about local prizes and championships from years ago, but not much more than that. One of the articles calls him a prodigy, so maybe. Ok, interesting. He closes the tab, considering his curiosity sated.

Haknyeon takes the horse back inside himself, patting it and talking to it like they're old friends. The whole time, Chanhee sits outside, on the small patio chairs shaded from the sun. When Haknyeon joins him again, he's pulling off his gloves, and Chanhee watches, distracted, as Haknyeon says, "I can see why they want you to take a liking to it. These horses are well-cared for, your family clearly loves them."

"They do. That's not the reason why they want me to ride, though." He considers briefly the pros and cons of being honest with a stranger, and figures he has nothing to lose by letting himself vent a little bit to someone he may never see again. Well, whatever. "They think taking it up as a hobby might help me find someone to marry quicker.”

At that, Haknyeon gives him a funny look, furrowing his brows. "Why, though? Are you in a hurry?"

"It's complicated."

Haknyeon pauses. He looks intrigued but visibly holds back from asking, and Chanhee only understands why a second later, once he goes over his own words.

"Oh, God, I'm not dying or anything!" He grins when Haknyeon sighs in relief, one hand over his heart. "It's nothing as serious as that. It's a money thing."

"Man, I really thought you were about to tell me you’re on your deathbed.”

Chanhee laughs, delighted.

It's been a while since he's had the chance to talk about this with someone who's not either in his family or just tired of hearing Chanhee complain about it, like his best friend. So when Haknyeon sits down next to him, Chanhee tells him all about it. His grandfather's imposition that his grandchildren be married to have access to their share of his conglomerate, including a board position with voting rights on the parent company. His brother married early and doesn't have to worry about any rules, and his few cousins for the most part don't have an interest in joining the ins of the company, but Chanhee does. So much so that he is even considering the absurdity of those rules.

But it’s so extremely irritating. Chanhee doesn't even know if he wants to marry, let alone right now—he has no interest in rushing his way through a relationship just so he gets what's essentially a promotion at the company he already works at. Is he satisfied at his position? No. He would like to be in the upper echelon, sitting with the people who are actually making the decisions. But is he willing to marry just about anyone to get there?

"That feels a little backward, sorry to say," Haknyeon says, sounding anything but sorry. "What does it matter for your job if you're married or not?"

Chanhee sighs. "It doesn’t, at all. And you're being generous calling it only a little backward.”

The rationale is supposed to be about stability and safeguards—so if Chanhee falls in love, he won't be tempted to sign off his inheritance—but it's such an antiquated concept that he has given up trying to argue with his family about it. His options, as he explains, are either abide by it, or forget about the company position altogether. And he's annoyed enough that he has been seriously considering the second option recently, despite his lifelong dream of taking the position he has grown being told was his by birthright.

By the time Haknyeon’s allotted two hours end, they’ve talked some more and had some lemonade, but nothing remarkable. Good company on a slow day, something Chanhee doesn’t mind, as averse to loneliness as he is.

He even walks alongside Haknyeon on their way back to the mansion, thinking of taking a bath. That’s where he thinks they’ll part to never see each other again; at most meeting again years from now at an event of some kind, because they’re probably running in similar circles anyway, so the odds are they should be bumping shoulders at some point.

But then Haknyeon pauses and turns to him. 

“Can we still keep the lessons? I know you’re not gonna ride,” he adds quickly when Chanhee is about to retort, his pretty lips curving into a smirk. “You don’t need to come down to meet me, even. But I have a feeling if you cancel the lessons with me your family is just gonna find someone else to hire, or find some other random hobby to push onto you. So I can just ride for two hours, and you can pretend you’re taking the lessons. Win, win.”

Chanhee watches his face. It’s not a random act of kindness—Haknyeon is essentially asking to be paid to ride healthy Andalusians at his leisure. That convinces Chanhee.

“Sure. See you next class, instructor-nim.”

As planned, Haknyeon comes over twice a week, always at the same time, and always wearing his full equestrian attire. The first time he’s back, Chanhee accompanies him to the stables; his afternoons are terribly slow after he gets back from work, and he found Haknyeon’s company agreeable last time, so why shouldn’t he? He introduces Haknyeon to the stable boy too, so Haknyeon starts looking like a familiar face by the second week, greeting them with a bright smile and not feigning shyness even for a second.

He’s bold, he moves with the effortlessness of someone who’s not ashamed to take space, and he’s got enough personality to make him interesting to Chanhee. They end up talking a little about clothes, once Chanhee compliments him on his riding outfits, and while he’s not nearly as entrenched in the fashion industry as Chanhee, Haknyeon knows his way around most brands and fabrics. That gives him an extra bonus point in Chanhee’s book.

It’s not like they’re friends now, at least not the kind to book trips together and chat over a bottle of DRC in Chanhee’s bedroom, but they’re friendly. That’s why the idea pops into Chanhee’s head one day.

“Do you want to accompany me tonight?”

Haknyeon stomps his boots a little harder to shake more of the dirt clean off the soles. He glances at Chanhee. “I thought you said you were gonna browse the menu. You should probably show up alone if that’s the plan.”

“One, I did not put it like that,” Chanhee says, raising a finger, but he’s amused. “I’m checking in with possible candidates at a fundraising event where most of my social circle will be present, yes, but I’m not treating them as meat on my plate. Many of them are friends, actually.”

“All the more reason not to have a stranger there,” Haknyeon reasons. He walks over, satisfied with the state of his boots, running a hand over his hair to pull it away from his princely face. “‘Hey buddy, this is some random guy you’ve never met. Also, would you like to marry me?’”

“Two!” Chanhee raises another finger, definitely holding back laughter by now. “You’re not a total stranger. You’re my riding instructor! But you don’t have to come. I just thought you could help me at least narrow it down, if you’d be up for it. I could use a second opinion.” 

Now that he’s saying it out loud, it does sound like he’s picking a salad to go with his dinner. Chanhee admits defeat.

“And fine, I hate ordering food by myself,” he complains through a dignified pout, and gets a resounding laugh from Haknyeon. That helps lift his spirits, so he insists, “We can stop by your place so you can get dressed.”

“Or you can just dress me.” Haknyeon gestures for him to follow, like that’s decided. “Come on, let’s raid your closet.”

Chanhee has more fun dressing up Haknyeon than he’d like to admit, especially considering the challenge that is fitting his clothes onto someone who shares very little with him in terms of body proportions. Never one to back down from a fashion challenge, however, he arranges an outfit that makes him proud and highlights Haknyeon’s beautiful body line perfectly. The exposed collarbones are Haknyeon’s personal request, and Chanhee pairs it with a layered necklace to frame the dip of his button-up.

The event itself is less fun. Most fundraisers are boring, as Chanhee very well knows, but even the afterparty doesn’t feel much more interesting. At least the age range shrinks considerably; there’s more people around his age than otherwise, thankfully.

It’s a wide space with dim, reddish lighting that makes it only a little hard to point people out to Haknyeon over their drinks. That one is married already, that one is straight, that one is a dumb incel who probably spends more time messing with elections than actually having meaningful relationships, and that—

“Oh, they came. Don’t look now.”

Haknyeon very discreetly peeks over his drink, and Chanhee pokes him.

“I said don’t look now!”

“Which one?” Haknyeon asks, intrigued. “Serious Brows or Big Boobs?”

“Oh my God, they do look so big in that jacket…”

“Got it, so Big Boobs.”

“No! I mean, yes, but—”

When Haknyeon raises his brows at him, Chanhee feels his cheeks heat up. Thankfully, the entire room is rosy enough that any blushing should go unnoticed.

“Both?” Haknyeon whistles. “You’re more adventurous than I thought.”

Any other time, Chanhee would’ve said I’m not, but now he wants to go the other way and feel offended, because it sounds like Haknyeon thinks he’s boring. And he’s most definitely not boring, excuse you?

Before he can voice that, however, Haknyeon asks, “So they’re together?”

“Yes,” Chanhee says. He glances over his shoulder, at the couple of models talking quietly in their corner, as they usually are. “And very much in love. But I’m too close to Younghoon hyung, it would be weird… Right?”

Haknyeon shrugs. “Don’t see why it would be.”

“It would, though. Besides, I know for a fact they don’t plan to marry anytime soon, so. Moot point.”

“If you guys are that close he could marry you as your friend. Then when you get all your shit sorted out, you guys can divorce.”

Chanhee sighs and turns away so they can look elsewhere and not in Younghoon and Jaehyun’s direction. “I wish it was that simple, but the marriage can’t be fake. At least not obviously fake, and my entire family knows Younghoon hyung is happily taken.”

Haknyeon considers that as they watch the room. “Quick question: your dating pool comprises exclusively men?”

“Yes.”

“So your family is not cool with throuples but they’re cool with you marrying a guy?”

“My grandpa is so misogynistic it cancels out his homophobia when it suits him. Polyamory might be a step too far for him, though.”

The look he gets for it is so appalled and funny that Chanhee laughs.

“That’s what you get for asking too many questions!”

“Lesson learned.” Then, sarcastically, “Your grandpa sounds delightful.”

Chanhee chuckles but doesn’t argue. There’s a reason he never sees his grandparents if he can avoid it.

A little later, Chanhee points to someone else. Haknyeon is interested as soon as he hears Kevin’s name, pointing out the tattoos and the extravagant outfit as pluses, and inquiring Chanhee as to why he doesn’t just try some flirting to see how it goes.

“It can’t hurt,” Haknyeon is adamant.

“It very well can. Have you never been rejected?”

“Not very often, no.” It’s such an immediate response that Chanhee smacks his arm, laughing. “How close are you guys?”

Not much, Chanhee explains. They’ve been introduced and exchanged pleasantries but never interacted again.

“He has a really nice voice, too,” Chanhee recalls, a little dreamily. Then he snaps back to reality. “He lives in Canada, though. I mean, Canada or Los Angeles? I don’t know. He’s always somewhere over there and rarely this side of the Pacific, and I have no interest in spending half my days on planes.”

“Bummer.” Haknyeon does sound a little bummed. He nudges Chanhee and uses his chin to indicate someone else. “What about him?”

Chanhee follows his gaze. A few people away from Kevin Moon, Kim Sunwoo is turning up a champagne flute. They watch his profile and sharp jawline as he does so, the jacket he’s wearing a little loose on his shoulders, although he balances that out by wearing a tight shirt underneath.

“Kim Sunwoo. I’ve known him since forever. His mom owns half of the boutiques in Seongsu-dong,” Chanhee says. “We’re not super close, though. He’s closer to Changmin.”

“Your best friend,” Haknyeon supplies, to show he remembers. Chanhee nods, rather pleased that he does. “All right. Can you flirt with him, then? He seems like he’s looking for some fun tonight.”

He does, yeah. Sunwoo is with a couple of people but he looks distracted, scanning the room the way one does when on the prowl. Chanhee can’t really bring himself to just walk up and offer himself up like a deer walking straight into the lion’s mouth, though. That wouldn’t work on Sunwoo, anyway. He probably has someone in mind already, if Chanhee knows him at all.

“I don’t think I can be that brazen about it.”

“It’s not like you’re asking his hand in marriage tonight,” Haknyeon says, leaning in to make his point, his nice cologne all Chanhee can smell for a moment. “Just some mindless flirting. Go over there, get a kiss, suggest you might be interested in seeing him again. You don’t do one-night stands, do you?”

“I could,” Chanhee says right away. He’s not sure he means it but Haknyeon thinking he’s boring is starting to irk him. “You don’t know that.”

“Awesome! So go over there and get into Sunho’s pants.”

“Sunwoo.”

“Right, that’s what I said.”

For one brief insane moment, Chanhee considers it. Not getting into Sunwoo’s pants per se, but just approaching him to, well, get a feeling for it. If Sunwoo would be into the idea of even flirting with him, let alone anything past that. He’s good-looking, witty, and Changmin trusts him with his life so he wouldn’t necessarily be a bad idea as a future husband, certainly?

But Chanhee can’t. He doesn’t want to hook up with Sunwoo, and he’s getting cold feet, too, standing there and thinking of approaching people. It shows on his face, he’s sure of it, because Haknyeon sighs, long-suffering.

“Let me show you.”

Wait, what? “Show me what?”

“If you’re into this Sunwoo guy, now is the time to say something before I go over there and start making out with him,” Haknyeon says, turning up the rest of his drink with a grimace. He hands a stunned Chanhee his empty glass and runs a hand through his hair. “All right, watch and learn, kid.”

He says it so goofily that Chanhee guffaws, unable to say anything but “'Kid'? Wait, are you serious?” as he watches Haknyeon walk away.

Maybe it shouldn’t surprise him that Haknyeon seems to charm Sunwoo right off his feet. They talk for a moment or two, Sunwoo visibly going from guarded to relaxed the longer Haknyeon speaks. From his place across the room, Chanhee watches, a little shocked, as Sunwoo opens an interested smile and nods. Then Haknyeon is leading them further back towards the hallway connecting this room to another one, Sunwoo’s hand touching his lower back briefly.

Chanhee doesn’t need to see it, but he’s too curious not to, so he finds a spot where he can catch a glimpse of the hallway from far away and yeah—Haknyeon is very busy kissing Sunwoo against the wall. Laughing to himself, Chanhee walks away to leave them to it.

It makes him curious to know what exactly Haknyeon did to make that work so fast, though; in under ten minutes he had Sunwoo under his spell, and just how did he do that? Not that he’s not stupidly attractive, or that he can’t sound really compelling, but come on. Ten minutes? Not even Changmin can charm someone’s panties off that fast. At least Chanhee doesn’t think so.

Haknyeon doesn’t tell him more than “I was just myself” when he comes back with an insufferable grin and his lips just a tiny bit more plump. He says it like that’s supposed to make Chanhee fume, but at that point, Chanhee isn’t really trying very hard to disprove him.

He doesn't say it, but he kind of gets it.

All that night proves to Chanhee is that maybe he shouldn’t worry about marriage just yet—he should start with dating.

His dating life has never been the most exciting, although he did have a couple of boyfriends he loved dearly. He wonders if he should try to reignite the flame with his last ex, and needs to be reminded by Changmin that Sangyeon is very much married already. They even attended his wedding, actually. A whole year ago. Chanhee sulks all day after that.

That’s how Haknyeon finds him the next time he comes over for a lesson. Sulking, and a little too irritated with everything, wondering why he’s even bothering. Stupid rules, stupid job, stupid fucking society that institutionalized nuclear families as the beginning and end of every—

“You know, I could marry you.”

Chanhee looks up so fast his sunglasses slip down his nose. He pushes them up to his head. “What did you just say?”

“I said,” Haknyeon starts, putting one foot up on the chair next to Chanhee to tuck his pants more firmly into his boots. “I could marry you.”

The words are so absurd that Chanhee stares, his eyes wandering down to Haknyeon’s form—he snaps his eyes back when Haknyeon catches him looking at his thighs.

“Absolutely not,” Chanhee says.

“Why not?” Haknyeon stands up straight again, shrugs. “I’m single, I’m not in love with anyone, and you could tell your family we fell for each other while I was giving you lessons. That’s why you can’t ride to save your life, you couldn’t concentrate with me around.”

He says it simply, like that’s just a logical plan, and not complete insanity. Because that is insanity—they barely even know each other! Chanhee doesn’t trust him like that. The whole point of picking someone out of his friends and acquaintances is that Chanhee would have at least a little basis, some sort of reassurance that he knows who he’s literally getting in bed with.

Haknyeon, though? They’ve known each other for what can’t amount to two complete months yet. He can’t possibly have good intentions, can he? Besides, Chanhee was hoping he would have an actual relationship, even if a shallow one—he wasn’t planning on going full fake marriage on this.

“You must know how that sounds.”

“Like I want to rob you blind?” Haknyeon smirks. “We’d have full separation of property, of course. I’m expecting your family to have the prenup written up already somewhere in there.”

He points to the mansion towering over the sparse trees by the stables.

“I know you think I’m just one of your employees because my family doesn’t have a giant conglomerate ruling all of East Asia’s fashion world, but I don’t need your money,” he completes. Again, completely flippant. “We have more than enough.”

Chanhee is indignant. “I don’t think that, don’t be absurd.”

“So we are getting married?”

The question is so preposterous, especially after that insinuation, that Chanhee’s words come out fast, flustered, “Why would you even—Of course not! We’re not getting married. At all. No.”

Haknyeon just goes, “Ok. Offer is on the table, though, if you change your mind.” And starts walking back towards the stable with an unaffected smile.

Chanhee is so discombobulated that he stands up, grabs his phone, and needs to reach down again twice to grab his book and then glass of juice. He pulls his sunglasses down to cover his eyes again and stalks back towards the mansion, decided to not spend one minute of today watching Haknyeon ride. The nerve of some men?!

The thing is, that conversation stays with Chanhee. For days. He keeps thinking about Haknyeon’s arguments, and how the cover story could make it believable enough for Chanhee’s family to buy into it.

If they were ready to welcome a stranger Chanhee met at the country club while riding horses like the self-important little heir he apparently is, then they should be ok with the idea of Chanhee marrying someone he only scarcely just met too. It doesn’t matter if Chanhee himself bristles at the idea of marrying a virtual stranger; the marriage would be just a ruse, anyway. Not an actual rushed marriage, just an agreement between two interested parties. Business of a kind.

Finally, on Sunday night, he caves and texts Haknyeon.

choi chanhee:
how good of a liar are you?

Ju Haknyeon (Instructor):
Ohhh
I graduated with honors in Performing Arts ㅎㅎㅎ
You don’t need to worry about thattt ^^
Can YOU lie tho

choi chanhee:
we’ll find out
and yes

Ju Haknyeon (Instructor):
Yes what??

choi chanhee:
to your marriage proposal
my answer is yes

To ease themselves into the plan, Chanhee starts off by introducing Haknyeon and Changmin. It looks to him a little bit like two dogs circling each other and sniffing first before approaching with how calculated Changmin’s smile is and how prepared to answer his questions Haknyeon makes an effort to be. As soon as they seem to sniff whatever they are looking for, however, they bounce off each other like two longtime friends who can only communicate in friendly bickering.

With Changmin’s blessing, so to speak, Chanhee introduces Haknyeon to his family. Properly, that is, as his “boyfriend” and not just as the riding instructor no one ever bothered to meet before.

Chanhee, for his part, watches in awe as Haknyeon immediately charms his older brother, going straight to hyung territory upon minutes of first meeting him, then his sister-in-law, who becomes noona just as fast. His brother and his wife are the easy first step, even if Chanhee nearly chokes on his coffee at his brother happily congratulating him for finding someone “to take care of”. At that, Haknyeon immediately loops his arm around Chanhee’s, beaming like he’s truly infatuated.

The next step is a little harder. It’s also the most important step. Chanhee loves his parents, but they also love their parents, which complicates things with how difficult his grandparents are. The politics of trying to please the previous generation gives him a headache before the family dinner where they’re supposed to make the big official announcement.

Haknyeon reassures him that it will be fine, they have nothing to worry about. Their stories are all agreed upon, about who flirted with whom, who asked whom out first, and so on. They got this.

He puts one arm around Chanhee and looks at the full-length mirror where they look, as they should, like they’re about to announce their engagement. They have different yet equally fancy outfits on, and their color palettes look nice together, with Haknyeon in hunter green and Chanhee in rose gold. To Chanhee’s surprise, he finds they look good together. Not just portrait good, but real life good.

Chanhee blinks at himself, then at Haknyeon’s hand respectfully high on his waist. He pulls it down a little so it sits closer to his hip.

“We may need to look the part too,” he says. He meets Haknyeon’s eyes in the reflection. “I’m revoking the no-skinship rule. But be smart about it, please.”

Haknyeon winks at the mirror, and it’s stupid, because he can’t blink with one eye without making a funny face. Chanhee bursts out laughing, his nervousness subsiding momentarily.

It turns out all of his fears are mostly unfounded. His grandparents are a tough crowd, but he knew that already; Haknyeon deals gracefully with the uncomfortable questions about whether or not he wants children in the future and about his family’s estate, never lowering his head. Chanhee is amazed, more so when Haknyeon immediately gets into his mother’s good graces, the two immediately bonding over horses. Even his cousins are impressed, Minjeong quietly giving him an approving smile when no one is looking.

The night goes by so well that Chanhee almost forgets what he was so worried about. He watches Haknyeon with more than just gratefulness; he’s just as spellbound as the rest of his family, if not more. He welcomes Haknyeon’s gentle touch to his hand when he needs to ask something and leans comfortably on his shoulder when they all relocate to the sitting room to hear Chanhee’s mother play the piano.

He hasn’t been drinking tonight, afraid of slipping up on their carefully constructed story that no one is even that interested in asking about, as it turns out. All the worrying was in vain, as Haknyeon told him it would be. They’re doing all right. Surprisingly, strangely so.

Haknyeon leans down to kiss his head, the first kiss they’ve ever shared, and Chanhee is so ready to lean into it, that he closes his eyes and smiles.

“You’re not drunk, are you?” Haknyeon whispers to him.

Chanhee giggles and shakes his head. “No, just relaxed.”

The smile he gets for it is genuine. Haknyeon is relaxed too, visibly so, and Chanhee lets himself lean against his shoulder again to listen to the music. He loves that song.

After the successful dinner with Chanhee’s family, their engagement is all but settled, but Chanhee still insists on meeting Haknyeon’s family too.

It’s a much less stressful affair than his own family dinner was. Haknyeon’s mother is a no-nonsense woman who doesn’t change out of her farming-ready attire when they sit down to eat, and Haknyeon’s sisters are much more interested in hearing about Chanhee’s job than about the story of how they met, or what their future looks like. It offers some insight into who Haknyeon is as a person, the understanding that he gets his straightforwardness and logical approach to things from his mom, who makes sure to send Chanhee back home with a bag full of fresh tangerines.

They eat some on the flight home, which is when Haknyeon asks Chanhee out.

It’s not a date, he clarifies. “I mean, it technically is, if we’re literally engaged. But we should go shopping before you disown me for my old clothes, since you hate them so much.”

“There’s no reason to wear the same coat for ten years!” Chanhee repeats his argument, laughing as he tries to peel a second tangerine. He’s doing a poor job of it, so Haknyeon takes over, peeling it for him with the ease of someone born and raised in Jeju. “Sure, let’s go shopping. I can give you some tips too.”

Haknyeon gasps. “I need tips?! But you said I have good taste!”

“I was being nice,” Chanhee teases. He gives up when Haknyeon pulls a sad, heartbroken face. “No, I meant it, you have good taste! Don’t cry on my tangerine.”

“I’ll show you how good my taste is. You’ll regret ever doubting my fashion sense, you’ll see.”

He hands Chanhee the tangerine and misses the way Chanhee looks away to smile at the sky outside the jet window.

Their shopping non-date is exactly the kind of thing Chanhee loves doing: shopping for hours and only ever stopping when his arms are too tired from carrying too many bags. What starts as a way to find Haknyeon some new clothes, turns into a full shopping spree, but that’s so fun that Chanhee barely even notices the hour.

By the time they need to leave all the bags with Haknyeon’s chauffeur, the sun has set and their stomachs are growling. “Dinner?” Haknyeon suggests. Chanhee accepts it without a second thought.

They get a good table at a nice restaurant Chanhee is pretty sure is reservation-only. He points that out, to which Haknyeon smirks, proud of himself, and explains that’s his restaurant.

“Oh. Oh, you have a restaurant?”

“Seven,” Haknyeon corrects as he signals to the waiter. “Two here, five in Hong Kong. See? I told you, I’m not marrying you for your money.”

“I never thought you were,” Chanhee says, only a little embarrassed that for a brief moment he did think that. They take a moment to place their orders, Haknyeon ready to offer suggestions when Chanhee blanks at the sheer number of options. When the waiter walks away again, he asks, “I don’t know what you’re getting out of it, by the way. You can’t be marrying me just so you can ride my horses.”

Haknyeon laughs, and he looks kind of really pretty under the golden lights of the restaurant. “You just offered me an entire styling consultation free of charge for the whole afternoon,” he says. “I’d say I’m getting plenty out of it.”

They stop again when the waiter approaches with wine; Haknyeon suggests Chanhee try it, as the resident wine expert between the two of them, and goes with his choice. It’s only when they’re alone again, the ambiance quiet and comfortable enough to make it so they don’t need to raise their voices, that Haknyeon speaks again.

“Honestly, though, you’re fun company, and you seemed to be in a pickle. I could help you with that, so I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t.”

That’s sweeter than what Chanhee is expecting to hear. He deflects a little, turning the topic back to the supposed free styling consultation. But eventually they circle back to their wedding plans, because that is the most pressing issue, isn’t it?

The date they set for the civil ceremony is coming up, after all. A party feels unnecessary and Chanhee refuses to marry in the church for a fake wedding, so a civil ceremony with the closest of friends was just the obvious alternative when they were going over their options.

Even though they have been doing this courting dance for a few months now, including the months they were supposedly dating as instructor and student, it feels like time has flown by too fast. He says as much, and Haknyeon agrees. “We haven’t even thought of what we’re wearing yet,” he says. “Of course, you can just call the shots there, I’ll wear whatever you say.”

Chanhee squints at him playfully. “That sounds suspiciously easy.”

“I don’t play hard to get,” Haknyeon says, and the smirk that accompanies it is disconcertingly hot, somewhat teasing. “No, but seriously, I have no idea what people wear to civil ceremonies. Suits? That feels like too much. Isn’t it too much?”

The food is great. The wine is excellent. The company, however, is what pleases Chanhee the most. With how distracted he is laughing at Haknyeon’s suggestions (including but not limited to a honeymoon-disguised trip to Europe because well, when in Rome, literally, right?), he doesn’t realize he’s getting slightly tipsy until his face starts feeling hot.

“Oh, no,” he cups his cheeks after checking his front-facing camera. “Do you have any concealer on you? I didn’t think I’d be drinking tonight.”

Haknyeon shakes his head no. “It’s fine, though. You look cute all pink like that.”

The compliment goes straight to Chanhee’s inebriated head. He’s unable to hide his smile, dismissing Haknyeon with a hand. “Shut up… God, do you ever cool it with the whole—” He gestures vaguely. “You thing?”

“What? What me thing?”

“That thing. Being all princely and charming... Like Prince Charming.” Chanhee giggles at his own joke. Oh no, he should’ve stopped at the first glass. “Anyway. Just don’t, you’re making me sound dumb.”

“You don’t sound dumb.” Haknyeon leans back on his chair, amused. “You sound like you’re attracted to me, though. Are you hitting on me, Choi Chanhee?”

“Of course not,” Chanhee scoffs. “And don’t call me by my full name.”

“What am I supposed to call you? Babe? Jagi?”

That’s an infuriatingly charming smile. See! He is charming! Ugh.

“‘Hyung’, of course! Like you always do.”

“I should probably call you ‘baby’ around other people, actually. Maybe we should practice. Right, baby?”

Chanhee bursts out laughing. It’s not that he doesn’t like it—quite on the contrary, as a matter of fact. He’s so flustered that his alcohol-fueled reaction is to have a laughing fit, covering his mouth with both hands. That seems to only encourage Haknyeon, however—he keeps calling Chanhee baby, leaning closer over the table to make eye contact and say silly things like why do you find it so funny, baby? You’re growing so red, baby. Like a kid who just learned the way to annoy someone on the playground, way too excited about it, pretty eyes glinting with mirth.

“You really do look great, though,” Haknyeon says once Chanhee has calmed down somewhat. “You always do. That’s your you thing.”

It’s way too earnest after all the childish teasing. Chanhee feels so flattered, he can’t think of a fast enough reaction. “Thank you,” is what he says. Also earnest, if a little embarrassed. “You’re not too bad yourself.”

Haknyeon feigns being hit square in the chest by a cupid’s arrow, laughing right along with Chanhee, who goes home that night with a big smile plastered on his face.

They marry on paper.

With just a couple of friends present, and with rings that they chose together, because there was never any actual going down on one knee for each other. It’s all pretty nice, if a little too impersonal—as it should be, Chanhee reminds himself. That was the point of a civil ceremony. Now he has his so desired marriage certificate, which is what he needed out of this whole thing to begin with.

Then they have dinner at Chanhee’s with Chanhee’s immediate family, the compromise in exchange for them not having an actual party. Haknyeon explains, once again and very convincingly, that they thought they could wait to have a big party later, once they’re more settled into their new life. After all, he says, “What’s the rush?” He turns to Chanhee sitting beside him with devotion written all over his face, so honest that Chanhee’s heart skips a beat, fooled by the good acting. “We’ve got our entire lives ahead of us.”

Haknyeon is so good at playing the happy newlywed that it makes things much easier. A little confusing too, though, because Chanhee doesn’t need to pretend to be happy. He is, in some weird way, even if he’s acutely aware they’re not actually married in a way that matters to him. It’s hard to not let Haknyeon’s gentlemanly ways get a smile out of him, or to ignore how proud his mom is watching them together.

When they stand to hear the toast from Chanhee’s father and Haknyeon wraps a hand around his waist, Chanhee feels confident enough to lean in and press a sweet kiss to Haknyeon’s cheek. The smile he gets for it sends his heart in disarray, but in a good way. Haknyeon gives his waist a little squeeze, pulling him imperceptibly closer.

The good thing about their ruse? Chanhee doesn’t have to hide his own very real smile about it.

The honeymoon idea never takes root because they both have jobs they’d rather not step away from right now—the third quarter is important!—but they do leave the dinner for Haknyeon’s penthouse apartment, where they’re technically gonna be living together as a couple. Most of Chanhee’s clothes are there now, in the room he will be using by himself, even if it still doesn’t feel like he really is moving. He figures he’ll be coming back home often enough that things probably won’t change much.

That first night, however, he’s a bit nervous about it. He soon finds he doesn’t have to be, because instead of taking them straight to the apartment, Haknyeon makes a detour.

He’s behind the wheel tonight, relaxed as he drives through downtown Seoul, explaining, “It’s not like we really need to go home, right? We’re not about to consummate the marriage or anything.” He laughs when Chanhee chokes on his own saliva. “What? It’s true! We’re almost there, you’ll see.”

Haknyeon takes him to a photography studio.

One of the biggest studios in town, as a matter of fact, with several different spots for taking pictures, and so many racks of clothes just waiting for them, that Chanhee is confused. Haknyeon stands beaming at him as Chanhee goes over the nearest rack.

“The photographer hyung is inside, I’ll go get him once we’re ready.”

“What—How did you get these?” Chanhee asks, taking off a particularly exquisite piece. “Oh, that’s pretty! And couture.” He eyes the studio around them, empty and ready for their personal use. This sounds almost too good to be true. “How did you put all of this together?”

“Well, the thing about money is that it buys your way into things,” Haknyeon says. When Chanhee glares at him for the irony, he laughs. “It’s really not that hard when you know the right people. Now, what are we wearing?”

As usual, Haknyeon lets Chanhee pick his outfit for him, although he has fun going through the racks himself too. They start off with looks that befit the fact that this is, for all intents and purposes, their marriage pictorial, before trying different things. The photographer comes out of the offices to take their photos and then it’s hours of taking picture after picture—most of them pictures of Chanhee, but he pulls Haknyeon in often too, finding it more enjoyable when it’s the two of them.

It’s so much fun posing with him. Neither has much experience in front of the cameras like this, but that only makes it all the more freeing. Chanhee discovers that Haknyeon photographs like a model, as stunning in the pictures as he is in real life, and in time they’re comfortably pulling silly poses, trying different faces, the photographer encouraging them to just let go.

So they do. And it’s perfect.

Chanhee has an incredible first night as a married man. It’s curious to him that he’s happier like this than what he ever thought he would be after his own wedding. He may not have married for love, but it almost feels like this is better. He wonders if the hypothetical real husband he keeps conjuring up in his head would think of doing something like this for him.

Would his real husband be as thoughtful as Haknyeon is? That’s the real question.

They get home late into the night, when Seoul has all but fallen asleep. Chanhee wishes Haknyeon good night and lingers by the door to his new room for a second, watching Haknyeon go further down the hallway towards his own room.

His husband. Chanhee goes to sleep tired but with a light heart.

The months go by with them acting the married part but without anything actually happening between them. They never sleep on the same bed, and aside from the odd kiss on the cheek if they need to attend an event together, they’re more roommates than anything more substantial.

Chanhee finds it comfortable. He still goes back home often, he goes to work, and he marks off every new day in the calendar, counting down the days until he can actually access his inheritance privileges. That should be one year after their wedding date, so a little ways away still, but Chanhee can wait that long. He would’ve had to wait so much longer if Haknyeon hadn’t shown up in his life when he did, right? So he’s far ahead of schedule, considering the alternative.

It helps too that Haknyeon turns out to be a great roommate. He’s tidy, for starters, and they find common ground in how much they enjoy good food. From ordering in, to hiring chefs to cook them dinner from time to time, to finding good restaurants when the weather is nice out, they bond more strongly over food than they ever had when all they knew about each other was their stance on horses.

Haknyeon still gives horseback riding lessons, too. Chanhee considers asking him to teach him one day, but gives up once he watches Haknyeon riding and remembers just how tall those beasts are. He doesn’t mind watching from a distance when the opportunity arises, though—especially now that he gets a free pass to watch as much as he’d like as Haknyeon’s legitimate husband.

Their non-relationship is exciting too, because Haknyeon just never stops. When he’s not at work, he wants to be out and about, be it shopping, traveling, visiting friends, doing sports. Chanhee feels exhausted just hearing him talk about it, but ends up accompanying him sometimes, letting Haknyeon show him different ways to, in his own words, spend all that money Chanhee has lying around.

They go all over the city, then farther. Haknyeon takes him skiing, shows him art exhibitions and theater plays Chanhee wouldn’t have heard about otherwise, gets him concert tickets overseas for artists Chanhee has listened to all his life and never bothered to see live. It’s never anything too out there—Chanhee has clear limits to what he will say yes to—but it’s still a different way of spending his days. A very nice way, actually.

He still has his books, and whenever he feels like it, he stays inside. But if he’s honest with himself, he’s starting to really enjoy seeing the world through Haknyeon’s eyes.

So it doesn’t surprise him that he starts to cherish Haknyeon’s company just as much as their adventures.

Chanhee books them a weekend away at a beachside resort for their sixth-month anniversary. It’s not the first time he finds himself giving Haknyeon a gift—he has taken a liking to surprising him with something nice every so often—but still, Haknyeon is confused when he first suggests it. “Why?” He asks.

“It’s our anniversary,” Chanhee explains. He makes an effort to sound nonchalant. “I thought you’d like to spend it by the sea.”

The blatant fondness in Hakyeon’s eyes means Chanhee is still not that good of an actor to pretend like he’s not putting more thought into it than he needs to. They don’t address that, though.

The resort is gorgeously beautiful and wonderfully quiet, with direct access to the beach as the main selling point. They get there on Thursday, filling two rooms as is their norm, and immediately go out to relax by the sea. 

Or well, Chanhee relaxes. Haknyeon surfs, because of course he does. Chanhee lounges on a beach chair with a book and a drink that first day, but he spends a lot less time reading than he does watching Haknyeon. The glistening skin and all those horseback rider muscles make it so it’s hard to look away.

That’s fine. Chanhee has been letting his gaze linger as of late, chastising himself less. It’s been an interesting exercise so far. Entertaining. Haknyeon is nice on the eyes, and Chanhee is tired of pretending he can't see it.

On Friday, they have dinner together outside, under the stars. It’s comfortingly familiar to sit opposite Haknyeon and discuss dishes, drinks, flavors—the kind of easy fun they’ve grown used to by now. The context makes it a little more poignant, however; Chanhee pays close attention to Haknyeon’s gestures as he speaks, admiring just how expressive he is when he’s talking. The dusting of pink on his nose from all the surfing is a cute look.

God, cute? Chanhee is losing the thread here.

They spend most of Saturday together, with Haknyeon managing to convince Chanhee to go on a buggy ride with him. Chanhee almost immediately regrets it, but by the end he’s enjoying himself and the scenery, ready to admit to a smug Haknyeon that ok, fine, it wasn’t that bad… 

“You think I’m such a bore, that’s almost insulting,” Chanhee complains, arms crossed and brows raised in defiance. “I can be fun, you know.”

“Oh, yeah? Prove it.”

Chanhee accepts the challenge.

After dinner, he takes them to the bar. Specifically to the one bar in the resort with a small karaoke stage. With a self-satisfied smile, Chanhee signs them up for a duet, Haknyeon disbelieving the entire time that Chanhee will go through with it—which is of course precisely why Chanhee makes a point of giving his all.

To his pleasant surprise, Haknyeon can hold his notes, and they have the most stupid fun singing together that Chanhee remembers having in a while. When was the last time he went to a noraebang with his friends? Too long ago, if he can’t think of an exact date. Even his last time on a stage was years and years ago, when he briefly played for the church band. That feels like a different lifetime now, but his confidence to stand on stage is still there, and he thanks that experience as a teenager for it now.

They have drinks when they’ve sung their mouths dry, and then they’re back on the stage for a rematch. Chanhee loses halfway through it when he forgets to sing to instead listen to Haknyeon’s singing, laughing when he realizes he missed his cue. Haknyeon, of course, doesn’t let him live it down.

“Why did you let me win!” Haknyeon asks, half laughing, half whining as they sit back down at their table. “I was so ready to beat you fair and square with my score, but then you just gave up—”

“Sorry, sorry! I wasn’t paying attention to the lyrics.”

“Clearly. That’s so unfair.”

Chanhee slaps his arm, laughing bright, joyfully. “Shut up, oh my God. Come on, you get to choose the next song.”

“No way, I won, that’s it. No rematches. We can do something else now.”

“Like what?”

It takes Haknyeon all but two seconds to come up with an idea.

He takes them back towards the main building of the resort, where the apartments and restaurants are. It’s a large five-story building that expands to both sides, with the main entrance facing the open space leading to the other areas. Haknyeon grows excited as they get closer, taking Chanhee’s hand to quicken their pace like they’re two teenagers running outside past curfew.

The thought makes Chanhee giggle, and he follows Haknyeon inside, not really understanding where they’re going until Haknyeon opens a door clearly marked as staff only and takes them down a service hallway.

“Should we be here?” Chanhee asks, not making any efforts to stop.

“Probably not,” is Haknyeon's answer. “But too bad, we’re already here.”

That’s faulty logic at best, but his energy is contagious, and Chanhee finds the whole thing exhilarating. Especially when Haknyeon opens another door and they burst into an industrial kitchen. None of the many people working there look up from their stations—the place is loud and chaotic enough that Haknyeon successfully leads them inside and towards the nearest fridge. He starts browsing its contents, finding a package of fresh strawberries before he opens a second fridge, from where he produces a bottle of champagne.

A voice rings out just then, saying, “Hey, what are you—You can’t take that!”

Chanhee tries to turn around and apologize, but Haknyeon is faster, taking his hand and leading them out of the kitchen through a different door, as fast as they can make it.

They can’t stop laughing.

It’s all a bit too stupid to even be funny, and yet Chanhee can’t control his giggling. He follows Haknyeon through another door that opens to stairs, and up they go, not stopping until they’ve reached the last floor. Chanhee is out of breath but he stops complaining as soon as Haknyeon pulls him through the door and onto the open space of the roof, with the ocean right ahead, glinting under the moonlight.

“Ta-da!” Haknyeon says, smiling broadly and opening his arms wide, still holding the bottle of champagne in one hand. “Ah, that’s much better. Feel that? Fresh air!”

The roof is most likely not open to guests, considering there’s no amenities, no comfort, no nothing. Chanhee doesn’t point that out, though, because he figures Haknyeon already knows that. He finds them a spot where they can sit down and lean back, facing the sea.

Haknyeon pops the champagne open and they take turns taking a swig. It’s absolutely not the best champagne Chanhee has ever had, and one look at Haknyeon’s face tells him he’s thinking the same thing. They laugh, going for the strawberries next. As they eat, Haknyeon starts talking about coming to this same resort years and years ago, with family, when he was still a kid.

“Did you come up to the roof then too?”

“Oh, no. I was too busy looking for pretty rocks on the beach, so I was looking down, not up.”

That’s so adorable. Chanhee nudges his shoulder. “You must’ve been such a rascal as a kid.”

“Eh?! Not at all. I listened to my parents well. Ask my mom, she’ll tell you.”

“Maybe I will.”

Maybe he really will. He has Haknyeon’s mother’s number—saved as Eomeonim on his phone—and he could very well just ask. That’s such a strange thing to think about, the fact that he’s so entrenched in Haknyeon’s life now, even though there should be no reason for it. Aside from Changmin and Younghoon, he doesn’t have the number of any of his friends’ parents.

But he could text Haknyeon’s mom—his mother-in-law! God, he’s still not used to how official all those titles are now—anytime. Just like that.

“Do you think—”

In the dark rooftop that has definitely not been prepared to receive guests, something brushes against Chanhee’s ankle. Certain that it’s a spider or something worse, Chanhee shrieks and jumps in place, heart in his throat, throwing himself against Haknyeon to get away from whatever that is.

Haknyeon is just as startled, going “What? What is it?!” with urgency. They both look down… at the champagne cork, rolling away after Chanhee kicked his feet in surprise.

“Oh my God, you almost gave me a heart attack!” Haknyeon says as Chanhee laughs both in relief and in embarrassment. He laughs too. “What did that cork ever do to you?”

Before Chanhee can defend himself that it’s dark, and they don’t know what that place could be hiding, he realizes he’s in Haknyeon’s arms. Close enough to feel his heartbeat where his hand is resting on his chest, and to smell his nice, familiar cologne.

Their eyes meet. Like this, with their breaths mixing, Chanhee sees very little reason to pull away.

He brings one hand up to Haknyeon’s neck and pulls him into a kiss.

Out of all of the adventures Haknyeon has taken him on so far, this is the most exhilarating. The thrill that runs through his body when Haknyeon kisses him back (intently, passionately) is indescribable. Their kiss is needy and desperate, and the realization that they’ve been both waiting for this moment for a long, long time only spurs him on.

The night unravels easily after that.

Tumbling into bed together, their months of growing closer prove the best possible prelude to all of this. It’s easy to communicate, to find the right rhythm, to understand where they are and where they want to be. Hot is too insufficient of a word to describe it, but it’s all he can think of. Chanhee has never been this aware of every single cell in his body, the feeling only exacerbated by having Haknyeon’s body so close, right there, against his.

All his, too.

In the morning, Chanhee wakes up to soft murmuring. He burrows further under the covers and opens his eyes slowly as he hears the door close, then the soft swish-swish of Haknyeon’s pants as he walks back inside.

Haknyeon, who’s sporting the most beautiful bedhair and wearing comfortable pajamas. He catches Chanhee awake in bed and smiles, apologetically. “I tried not to wake you, sorry… I ordered us some breakfast, though.”

He did, Chanhee sees now. A whole food cart of it. Chanhee’s stomach growls happily at the sight.

“I know we’re married and all but I didn’t want to just leave in the morning,” Haknyeon explains, popping a piece of bread into his mouth. “And I’m starving.”

Chanhee is, too. He’s too busy smiling sleepily at Haknyeon to voice that just now, though.

Later, as they’ve devoured most of the breakfast cart and Haknyeon is shaving in the bathroom, Chanhee grabs his phone and opens his chat with Changmin.

choi chanhee:
i think i’m in love with my husband?

jichang👻:
lose the question mark
i’m so proud of u for finally noticing

Their first anniversary as a married couple also marks six months of them together. Actually together, that is.

Chanhee gets his promotion at last, and work starts feeling much more fulfilling. It’s a little exhausting because he has more long nights stuck in meetings, but it’s not really all that bad. All the comfort that comes from being one of the top heads at the parent company means all of his most tiring days are balanced out. Not to mention that having a direct say on the direction they’re headed, on the creative decisions, on the actual work that’s being done, is rewarding enough in itself. He knew he would enjoy being here, so he’s glad to be proven right.

It helps that his work is mostly done from the comfort of office chairs, with the AC on and very little distraction when he needs to focus. That’s certainly something he’s appreciative of.

Besides, he likes to reserve his energy for outside of the office, for when he goes out—because he does go out often, or as often as his quiet, introverted personality will let him. Especially since he has good company for it too.

Once he starts really settling into his new routine, he finds coming home to his husband to be one of his favorite things. That doesn’t happen every night because Haknyeon doesn’t always come home before him; now that he has an actual riding school to manage, he’s busier than he used to be as just a sporadic instructor.

Unsurprisingly to Chanhee, who’s familiar with his business-driven mind, Haknyeon takes a liking to the more bureaucratic parts of the job just as much as he enjoys actually riding the horses. It’s endearing, if a little funny, to see him sound so enthusiastic about the number-crunching. Chanhee jokes that they’re probably not the most fun couple to their friends with all the business talk, and Haknyeon says that’s not true, at all! Sangyeon and his husband are definitely the boring ones, not them, he argues. Chanhee cries from laughing too hard.

The apartment is quiet when Chanhee walks in. After waiting all day for this moment, he’s a little nervous about getting it right—he toes out of his shoes and fixes the elegant bow on the box he has on one hand before walking further inside.

He doesn’t find Haknyeon in the living room, and he’s about to walk into the kitchen when something catches his eye. There are rose petals on the floor, leading his way from where he’s standing towards the dining room.

His lips curl into a smile as he follows the path.

Haknyeon welcomes him with a sweet kiss, standing by the table where dinner is all served. There’s enough food to feed a small army, and Chanhee points that out, only for Haknyeon to shrug. “I wanted us to have options,” he explains.

When Chanhee hands him his gift, Haknyeon beams at him and immediately puts on the wristwatch, a new model from a collection that hasn’t quite reached the stores yet. With a flourish, he hands Chanhee his own gift, a necklace that glints and sparkles beautifully around his neck. They wish each other a happy two years anniversary, and Chanhee is just a little too fond of the way the word babe rolls out of Haknyeon’s mouth. No one else calls him that, and Haknyeon doesn’t call anyone else that, which just makes the endearment sound all the more special to him.

That’s not everything, however.

They finish eating and don’t stand up just yet. In Chanhee’s head, it has become sort of their thing to sit around the table after a meal, sometimes with a drink, and just talk about nothing in particular. Under the table, he’s playing with his socked foot against Haknyeon’s ankle and shin, distractedly, touching just for the sake of touching. But then, just as a comfortable silence settles between them for a second, Haknyeon pulls back without warning, pushing his chair back to stand up.

It’s so unexpected that Chanhee looks up, a little worried. “Are you all right?” He asks.

Haknyeon nods, but he looks nervous as he reaches into his pants’ pocket. Chanhee wonders if he’s not feeling well, then stops thinking altogether when Haknyeon pulls out a ring box and walks over to his side, kneeling right by Chanhee’s chair.

Chanhee’s jaw drops.

“I know you don’t like me calling you by your full name but I kind of have to for this, sorry,” Haknyeon says with a sheepish smile.

He opens the ring box to reveal a beautiful, tastefully discreet diamond ring. Chanhee covers his mouth with a hand. He understands right away that it’s a set with the necklace around his neck.

“Choi Chanhee,” Haknyeon starts, stars in his eyes. “You make my life so much better, and my days so much brighter. I’d really like to spend all of it with you, if you’ll have me.” He smile is broad and gorgeous as he says, “Will you marry me?”

There’s a moment of silence in which Chanhee hears nothing but his own heart beating loudly inside his chest. Then he bursts out with, “What are you talking about! We’re already married, aren’t we?”

“I mean, yes, but not really. We should make it really, really official now. Have a big party and all that, invite all of our friends, make it just the way we want.”

Chanhee is so touched, so deeply in love with the stupidly sweet man in front of him, that he freezes, stuck between holding back surprised tears and laughing at Haknyeon’s idea of a second wedding.

“Yes or no, babe? My knee is starting to hurt.”

“Yes!” Chanhee blurts out. He leans down to cup Haknyeon’s face in both hands and kiss him. “Yes,” he repeats against his lips, his own stretched into a big, wide smile. “I’d love to marry you again, Haknyeon-ah.”

“Great!”

After Haknyeon has put the ring on Chanhee’s finger and stood up with a groan and a final complaint about his knee, Chanhee feels less shell-shocked to joke, “You just want to throw a big party, be honest.”

Haknyeon sits back down to take a sip from his wine, saying, “Well, yeah. I’d like to show off that I’m married to the hottest man on Earth and throw a party for it, why shouldn’t I?” He smirks at Chanhee, feigning being casual about it even though it’s clear he has been saving it for the right moment when he says, “You can color-coordinate our outfits, if you want.”

Huh. Now that’s an idea.

“Oh my God, yes,” Chanhee agrees right away, head suddenly filled with options and concepts for it. “Let’s do it.”

Haknyeon laughs happily. “I knew that would work!”