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    Summary

    Yeonjun pouts, deflating. His spine loosens like a discarded marionette. “Why do you never let me win?”

    “Oh, I let you win.” And it seems that Soobin’s grin loves sinking its teeth into Yeonjun’s soft resolve. “I let you win that chem quiz because to be fair, you’d prepared for it more than I ever did. I let you win every game of Tekken on Tuesdays because you’re always sad on Tuesdays. I let you win at Anagrams each Saturday because you make it a point to have your ankles touch mine every damn time. I let you win, hyung.” The bastard has the audacity to shrug at whatever face Yeonjun’s making. “Your over-inflated ego just never lets you notice.”

    (Or, Soobin, Yeonjun, and a migration of paper cranes.)

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