Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sangwoo is the kind of man who never stops moving. From the moment he stepped into Seoul National University, there was only one path forward, up.

 He got into the university because he worked for it, because he spent his nights buried in textbooks, because he refused to be anything less than the best.

And even after getting in the work never stopped.

While others went to festivals, drank with friends, and wasted their weekends on meaningless distractions, Sangwoo was focused. His professors recognized his sharp mind, his precise work. He isn’t just keeping up, he’s ahead.

By the time he reached his final year, he already knew where he was going. While his classmates polished their résumés and scrambled for internships, he is building something from the ground up. It started as a simple financial tool, an algorithm designed to make investing easier by using automation to manage risks and boost returns, while reducing mistakes

It was efficient. Practical. A project born from necessity and innovation. 

Word spread fast. A professor took notice, then a mentor in the industry. A small firm approached him, interested in using his tool. The first contract is signed before he even graduates.

With the growing demand for his platform, he formalized the business, establishing a corporate structure that allows for rapid but controlled expansion. He registered the company, set up its first headquarters in Seoul, and brought in a team of experts, handpicked, highly skilled, and aligned with his vision. The company isn’t just offering a service anymore; it’s shaping the future of financial decision-making.

Before long, it wasn’t just businesses seeking them out, government institutions, banks, and multinational firms also took interest, eventually integrating his company’s solutions into their own systems,

Success brought expansion. He branched into analytics, wealth management, and corporate risk. Markets multiplied, revenues soared. Offices rose in Busan, Tokyo, Hong Kong. Every move was precise, every partnership strategic, and it made him billions.

After the money came the fame.

 His name started to appear in major business publications. Features in Forbes Korea . Interviews in finance journals. Invitations to speak at international summits.

But with every expectation, every carefully crafted smile, he felt the constant, overwhelming pressure.

There are moments where he feels suffocated by it all, like the walls are closing in, like the air in his lungs isn’t quite enough. In those moments, without meaning to, his mind drifts, back to the last time he could breathe freely.

Back when he was just a kid.

The world had felt wider then, open in a way that it never would again. His days weren’t dictated by schedules or expectations, by balance sheets or public image. They were filled with laughter, with the scrape of sneakers against pavement as he ran across the playground, chasing after someone just a little faster than him. 

A boy with messy dark hair, warm eyes, and a wide toothed grin.

On his bike, he moved like he owned the streets. Sangwoo sat behind him, arms wrapped around his waist, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing. The wind stung his cheeks, the world blurred past them, and nothing else mattered. The boy’s laughter rang in his ears, free and unrestrained, as if there was nothing in the world to be afraid of.

The boy was as bright as the sun, and Sangwoo had always been captivated by his light. 

Now, that warmth is gone.

His world is a stark contrast, monochrome, measured, suffocating in its precision. There is no laughter, no wind against his face, no endless sky stretching before him. Only towering glass buildings, sharp reflections, and the cold hum of an air purifier in his office.

Suddenly, the door to his office bursts open without warning, the sharp sound shattering the quiet like glass hitting the floor.

And with the sound of door slamming, comes a voice.

“Oppaaaaa!”

Too saccharine for his taste. Too loud for the space. Too persistent in a way that has never felt welcome.

Kang Soyeon practically bounces into the room, energy bubbling off her in waves. The only daughter of the Kang family, old money, generational wealth, the kind that turns heads and opens doors without effort. Her father owns a string of successful businesses, her mother a well-known philanthropist, and she has spent her life in glossy magazine spreads and high-profile social circles.

Sangwoo’s mother and colleagues constantly talk about how beautiful she is, Sangwoo supposes she looks fine enough. 

Sangwoo exhales slowly through his nose, schooling his expression into something neutral. Then, he offers a measured smile.

“Soyen.” he greets, “What brings you to my office.”

Soyeon launches into a breathless monologue before he can even begin to brace himself.

“Oh, Oppa, you won’t believe how much progress we’ve made! We finalized the floral arrangements yesterday, and they are perfect! Everyone’s going to love them.”

She claps her hands together, practically bursting with excitement. His grip on the pen in his hand tightens, and a faint pressure builds behind his temples.

His colleagues and her family had been the one to push him to propose to her, and there was no room for arguments.

The pressure had built and built until there was nowhere else to go, until the proposal became inevitable. A grand, public spectacle performed for flashing cameras and expectant eyes. The music had been too loud that it gave him a headache, and the lights had been too bright that it made him want to throw up. He had gone through the motions, lowering himself onto one knee, slipping the ring onto her finger as she gasped and beamed and cried.

“Soyeon” he cuts her off, careful not to sound too impatient. “Can you please get to the point?”

To the public, they were the perfect couple. The golden boy of the business world and the daughter of an influential family, successful, enviable, in love.

But no one knew the truth.

No one knew they didn’t even live together. That beyond the carefully curated moments in front of cameras, they barely spent any time alone. That he had never once touched her the way a man should touch his fiancée.

The public didn’t know that no matter how many times she clung to his arm, no matter how much she pulls him to do couply things, he would never love her.

Because he isn't into women.

A brief and unreadable expression flashes in her face but it’s gone in just a second and quickly replaced with her excited smile.

“Oh yeah! I found the perfect place where we can get our wedding cake!” she exclaims, sitting on his desk. “It’s this suuuuper popular shop called ‘Moonlight Pastry’! It was the first Asian Pastry shop to win the James Beard Awards! It was all over the news! My girlfriends say...”

Sangwoo stills. The name rings in his ears, sharp and clear, cutting through Soyeon’s rambling.

Of course, he’s heard of ‘Moonlight Pastry'. He’s been keeping tabs on it, reading every article, watching every interview, scrolling through its social media pages more times than he can count. 

But he isn’t keeping tabs on it because he’s interested in cakes and pastries or whatever. 

His interest lies in the owner.

“Hey.” Soyeon leans in, her face drifting uncomfortably close. “I hear the owner of the shop, Seong Gihun, is a friend of yours, right?”

Sangwoo stills. Just for a second. His fingers curl slightly against the desk before he smooths out his hand, forcing himself to appear as composed as ever.

“We… knew each other when we were kids,” he says, keeping his tone even, unaffected.

"Perfect Then that means we won’t have to get waitlisted!" Soyeon claps her hands together, eyes practically sparkling. "Have your secretary set up an appointment and once everything is arranged you and I can go to the shop together!”

Sangwoo’s jaw tenses, his hand smoothing over the edge of his desk as if considering his words. "Won't you prefer something better than a... local pastry shop? There are plenty of foreign high-end patisseries we could consider. Some of the best come from France. Or Vienna. I can have my secretary look up some lists- - -"

She waves a dismissive hand, already shaking her head. "Nooo, oppa, I want ‘ Moonlight Pastry’!" she insists, dragging out the name like it’s obvious. “Seong Gihun is the best pastry artist and our wedding deserves the best!”

Her insistent grates on his nerves but he knows he won’t have any say on this, so he just goes ahead and does what she wants. Sangwoo keeps his expression neutral, rolling his shoulders slightly as if shaking off an invisible weight. He reaches for the phone on his desk. "I'll have my secretary arrange an appointment."

"Tomorrow," Soyeon chimes in, leaning forward. "I want to go tomorrow."

 He tightens his lips. "For tomorrow," he says, leaving no room for arguements.

 The car pulls up in front 'Moonlight Pastry' and there’s no line stretching out the door. No eager customers waiting their turn like how it's usually shown on television or internet videos.

Sangwoo’s secretary had arranged for a private appointment, ensuring that, for today, the shop would be theirs alone.

The storefront is simple but inviting, painted in soft pastel blues and warm creams. The shop’s logo, a round, glowing moon with a tiny, whimsical creature perched atop it, happily nibbling on a slice of cake, stands out against the glass window. It’s almost childlike in design, carrying a nostalgia that feels out of place in a world that has long since stopped indulging in such things.

Soyeon can't stand still, animated, excited, but Sangwoo barely registers her. His mind is elsewhere, completely focused on the fact that in just a moment, he’ll be seeing him again.

He’ll be seeing Seong Gihun again for the first time in years.

The door chimes softly as they step inside, the warm, sweet scent of pastries filling the air. Sangwoo’s gaze sweeps over the interior as he steps into the quiet space. The shop, though small, is cozy, inviting pastel colored walls adorned with delicate framed pictures of happy customers. The soft lighting creates an intimate atmosphere, and the soft hum of quiet music from hidden speakers fills the background. It feels different from the bustling  fancy patisseries Sangwoo is used to, and there's something warm and oddly comforting about the space.

“Oh my god, this place is so cute!” Soyeon gushes, her voice rising with the enthusiasm that’s become second nature to her. “Look at these pictures, they all look so happy!”

As Soyeon continues to gush about the decor, a door behind the counter opens, and a man steps out into the soft lighting of the shop. His tailored uniform is neat and professional, with a crisp shirt that fits the minimalist vibe of the shop. He carries a warm and friendly expression.

"Mr. Cho Sangwoo, Ms. Kang Soyeon," he greets, offering a genuine smile. "It’s great to have you both here. I’m Park Jungbae, the manager here at Moonlight Pastry." He pauses briefly, then adds, "Mr. Seong Gihun’s just finishing up some final details for your cake consultation, but let me take you to the room where we have our private appointments."

He gestures smoothly for them to follow, and with a quiet step, he leads them to a small, private room tucked away from the main shop floor. The door opens to reveal a cozy yet elegant space, the centerpiece being a round table surrounded by comfortable chairs. Soft lighting bathes the room, and framed photos of exquisite cake designs line the walls. 

"Please, make yourselves comfortable," Jungbae says. "Gihun will be with you shortly. If there’s anything you need in the meantime, don’t hesitate to let me know."

As soon as the manager leaves, Soyeon's already looking at the photos on the wall. She goes on to talk about the cake flavors and ideas. Sangwoo sits on one of the benches and responds in the right places. He lets her ramble, too caught up in his own thoughts to engage.

Then the door creaks open, pulling him back to the present. A figure steps in, and it doesn’t take long for Sangwoo to recognize the face that immediately hits him with a rush of emotions.

Seong Gihun.

Sangwoo’s breath catches in his chest, as though the air’s been knocked from his lungs. It's been years since he last saw him but it feels like no time has passed at all. His heart beats a little faster, and for a moment, the room feels smaller, as if the distance between them, those long years of separation, collapses in an instant. He freezes, the familiar rush of his feelings too sharp, too sudden.

Gihun steps forward, grinning that same grin that always lit up Sangwoo’s world.

“Well, if it isn’t the pride of Ssangmun-dong!” Gihun exclaims, clapping Sangwoo on the shoulder with a warm, hearty grip. “Look at you! You really put some muscles on, huh? You look good!” He lets out a quick, amused chuckle, his eyes sparkling with genuine delight. “Congratulations on getting engaged, man!” Before Sangwoo can fully gather his thoughts or respond, Gihun shifts his attention, already moving toward Soyeon with the same easy charm he’s always had. “And you must be the fiance! Ms. Kang Soyen, you’re even prettier in person!”

Soyeon giggles in response, completely enamoured by Gihun. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Seong Gihun,” she says, her voice bright and full of energy. “I’ve heard so much about you and your famous cakes! I can’t wait to see what you create for our wedding. I just know it’s going to be amazing!”

Gihun’s smile widens at her excitement, clearly pleased by her enthusiasm. “Ah! Please don't flatter me too much, I already have a big head!” he says with the smile still on his face. “I’ll do my best to make sure your wedding cake is exactly what you want it to be." He gestures toward the table in the center of the room. "We can go ahead with the disussion if you're ready."

Both Sangwoo and Soyeon settle into the chairs as Gihun moves to sit opposite them.

Soyeon is already grinning when she speaks. “I have so many ideas I want to discuss but I think I want to start with what flavor the cake should be!”

Gihun smiles. “Absolutely,” he agrees, glancing over to Sangwoo before turning his attention back to Soyeon. “We have over thirty different flavors for you to choose from, so we’ll have plenty to sample.”

Soyeon’s face lights up, clearly thrilled at the idea. “Thirty? Oh, that’s perfect! I want to try every single one!” She practically bounces in her seat, her hands clasped together in eager anticipation.

Sangwoo, however, does a double take. “Soyeon,” he begins, his voice steady, though the hint of protest lingers, “Do you really think we need to try all of them? Thirty is... a lot.”

But Soyeon, undeterred, only nods. “Of course! We have all day, don’t we? This is our wedding cake, Sangwoo.It needs to taste amazing! We have to try all the flavors so we can pick the right one!” he turns back to Gihun, her excitement unwavered. “Let’s do it! I want to experience all of them, who knows what we’ll love most?”

Sangwoo sinks back into his seat with a quiet sigh. There’s no winning with her when she’s this determined. He had hoped to avoid the overwhelming number of options, but it’s clear he’s not going to get out of this. 

Across from them, Gihun simply nods, taking her enthusiasm in stride. Then, with an easy familiarity, he calls for his head pastry assistants, giving quick instructions for the first round of samples. It doesn’t take long before the door swings open and staff members step in, carrying trays of carefully plated cake slices. The air grows sweeter as the plates are set down before them, each piece arranged to showcase its texture and layers.

The tasting starts with the classics, vanilla, chocolate, and strawberry. Each slice is delicate and rich. As they take each taste, Gihun explains the balance, the ingredients, and the craft behind each flavor. Sangwoo listens, more drawn to Gihun’s voice than the cakes.

They move on to deeper flavors like red velvet and black forest, richer and more layered. Sangwoo barely registers the taste, too focused on the way Gihun lights up when talking about his work.

Then come the bold ones like miso caramel, rose and lychee, and black sesame. Soyeon is thrilled, savoring each one. Sangwoo tries to keep up, the sweetness piling on. By the final bite, he feels like he is about to get a cavity, and when the last plate is cleared, he exhales, quietly relieved it is over.

After the final batch is cleared away, Gihun leans forward slightly, his expression open and curious. "So. Was there any flavor that stood out to you?”

For a second, Sangwoo assumes he’s asking Soyeon. She’s the only one who really cares about the wedding preparations, the one who’s been fully invested in every detail. But then he notices that Gihun’s gaze is still on him, patient and expectant, and something in his chest shifts. A strange feeling, warm and unexpected, mixing in with his surprise.

It takes Sangwoo a moment to gather his thoughts. Out of all the cakes they’d tried today, most had been too sweet and too much. But there was one that he actually liked “…The matcha,” he says finally , remembering how its subtle bitterness had balanced out the sweetness, and how it hadn’t overwhelmed his palate like the others had. It was the only one that hadn’t felt cloying after so many bites, the only one he could see himself actually enjoying.

Gihun smiles and is about to respond when Soyeon makes a noise of protest. "Really? That’s what you wanted?" she says, her lips pressing into a pout as she crosses her arms. There’s an unmistakable note of disappointment in her voice, and Sangwoo already knows what’s coming before she even says it. "But I wanted the sudachi one!"

Sangwoo exhales slowly, already resigning himself to letting her have her way. It’s not worth the argument. It never is. He’s about to tell her to just go with whatever she wants when Gihun suddenly speaks up.

"What if I whip up a new flavor?" His voice is easy and confident. "A special one just for you two, something both of you would like."

Soyeon lets out an excited squeal. "Oh, that’s a great idea!" she exclaims, grabbing Sangwoo by the arm and shoving him eagerly. "Something unique, just for us! This is so exciting!”

They set up the next appointment without much fuss. Gihun asks for two days to experiment with flavors, promising to create something that balances both of their preference. Soyeon, delighted, agrees instantly, and it’s decided he'll drop it off at Sangwoo’s office.

Sangwoo doesn’t say much as the plan is set, but the thought of seeing Gihun again lingers.

It’s almost pathetic how Gihun still has this way of slipping past Sangwoo's defenses without trying. It shouldn’t let it affect it this much. But it does.

And as Sangwoo walks out of the shop, he already knows that he’s looking forward to seeing Gihun again.

Chapter Text

Sangwoo is hunched over his desk, a stack of reports in front of him, the soft hum of his office’s air conditioning barely cutting through the steady stream of thoughts demanding his attention. His day has been an unending stack of tasks, back to back meetings, conference calls, client demands, and the constant ping of his phone, each notification pushing him closer to the edge of exhaustion.

He’s already signed ten different contracts, approved a slew of new budget proposals, and delegated half a dozen tasks to his senior managers. Another three calls are lined up, and his inbox is as cluttered as ever, filled with emails from people who all need something from him, as if his time isn’t already stretched thin enough.

He taps his fingers against the desk, eyes flicking over to the open document on his screen, but his focus shifts just as quickly back to the reports and the endless flow of numbers. There’s a rhythm to it, a mechanical beat he knows well, and for now, that’s enough. He’s moving through it all, one task at a time, just trying to make it through the day.

The quarterly projections are stable. Margins are holding. He moves to the next report and checks the forecast models--

“Oh my gosh, Sangwoo-oppa! I loved the venue I chose so muuch!”

Sangwoo’s fingers twitch over the keyboard. He barely acknowledges her, a quiet hum slipping past his lips, but already the interruption has broken his concentration. 

"I mean, I knew it was going to be pretty, but seeing it in person? Wow! It’s like something out of a dream!” Soyeon exlaims dramatically. 

He blinks at his screen, scanning the report, trying to remember where he left off. His fingers taps the desk again, sharper this time.

"You are going to love it!" Soyeon is practically bouncing in her seat. "The theme I came up with is ‘Cotton Candy Dreamland ’ It’s gonna be all pastel pink and baby blue! It’ll be so soft and so fluffy!”

His jaw tightens. The numbers blur. He recalculates the margins, then realizes he’s already done that part.

“Mhm.”

"Oh my gosh! And my gown is gonna be the perfect shade of pink! And you’re gonna wear blue! Because I’m a girl, so I should be pink, and you’re a boy, so you should be blue. That’s what people expect, right?"

Sangwoo exhales through his nose. He moves his mouse to another tab, double checking an expense report he already reviewed earlier.

"Everything is falling into place!" Soyeon gushes. "Everything is exactly how it's planned and everything is exactly how weddings should be!"

She continues to talk about wedding details constantly asking him if he liked her idea or how great he thought it was. The spreadsheet in front of him is a mess of half processed numbers, calculations interrupted every time his train of thought is derailed.

Sangwoo doesn’t like it when people talk to him while he’s working. 

And Soyeon is known for doing just about everything Sangwoo doesn’t like. 

There is no denying that Sangwoo regrets getting into this relationship in the first place.

He was never interested in her. Not romantically or sexually. She was just another person in his orbit, someone he barely noticed beyond the occasional greeting.

But then people started asking questions. He was in his mid-forties, successful, and still single. The usual excuses of him having high standards or  him being too busy with work stopped being enough. People started speculating and their speculation ran wild. Some assumed he had been hurt a past love, others whispered that there might something wrong with him.

Then, at an event, someone took a photo of Sangwoo and Soyeon together. It was a mundane moment, she had asked if there was gum on her dress and he checked and told her she was fine. But the image spread and so did the rumors, and suddenly people assumed they were a couple.

They saw something where there was none. A budding romance. A possible future. All of which were lies.

He could have denied it but it was easier to let them believe the things they believed. And the assumed romance was a simple way to maintain the image he needed, letting him avoid personal questions he had no plan in answering.

So when people assumed he was courting Soyeon, he went along with it.

Soyeon was kind. And unlike the women in his social circle, she never pried too deep, never demanded more than he was willing to give.

But sometimes, she could be too much.

He had half a mind to ask her to leave, maybe hand her a card so she could buy some shoes or something,anything to get her out of his office, when she suddenly let out a squeal.

“Oh my gosh! Oppa! And the cake!!! The cake has to match the theme!!” she exclaims, practically vibrating. “I just know that Gihun-ssi is gonna bring my vision to life! He is a genius at his craft!”

Sangwoo lifts his head and the tension in his shoulders eases.

 Two days. It’s only been two days since he last saw Gihun, but the mention of his name pulls at something in him, something settled and familiar. He exhales, slow and steady, before turning his attention back to his work.

“And he’s coming over later to let us try the new cake flavor he created for us!! Isn’t it exciting? Oh, I can’t wait!!!”

Upon hearing those words, Sangwoo realizes he’s completely unprepared.

His office feels too bare, too boring. Shouldn’t he have some refreshments ready? Gihun was a guest, shouldn’t he have something on hand?

Coffee? Tea?

Cake?

No, that’s stupid. Gihun is already bringing cake.

Sangwoo’s head buzzes, he clears his throat, forcing his voice to stay even as he asks, “What time is he coming?”

Soyeon barely looks up from her phone. “Around noon! Isn’t that perfect? We can have it as a little midday treat!”

Noon. That’s not much time. But maybe there’s still a way to salvage this.

He leans back in his chair, fingers pressing against the smooth surface of his desk. “Tasting a cake specially made for us is an important event,” he says, slow and deliberate. “Shouldn’t something like this be held in a more fitting place? Somewhere with an atmosphere worthy of the occasion?”

Soyeon gasps, clapping her hands together. “Oh my gosh, oppa! You’re so right! ” She exclaims “We should do this properly! I mean, everything should go well! Everything should be done right!”

He nods smoothly, already reaching for his phone. “I’ll handle the reservations.”

Scrolling through his list of preferred restaurants, Sangwoo searches for the perfect place, somewhere elegant but not too over the top, refined but not stiff. It has to be impressive without looking like he tried too hard.

After a moment, he finds the perfect venue. High-end but understated, known for its impeccable service and tasteful ambiance. Exclusive enough to make an impression, yet intimate enough to keep the gathering from feeling transactional.

He can’t help the triumphant grin on his face. 

They’re waiting outside Sangwoo’s office building, the midday sun casting sharp shadows against the pavement.

Soyeon stands beside him, practically bouncing on the balls of her feet, eyes scanning the street with eager anticipation. The moment she spots Gihun approaching, she lifts a hand, waving enthusiastically.

“Gihun-ssi! Over here!”

As soon as he reaches them, she wastes no time launching into her news. “There’s been a change of plans! We’re turning this into a lunch meeting! We’ll be trying the cake at...” she pauses for dramatic effect, clasping her hands together before announcing the name of the restaurant with a delighted flourish. 'Lumière!'

Sangwoo watches for Gihun’s reaction, noting the brief flicker of surprise before he nods, taking it in stride.

“Oh, wow. Fancy,” Gihun remarks, grinning. “Guess I should’ve dressed up more.”

Sangwoo exhales. “You’re fine,” he says smoothly. His gaze catches on the way Gihun’s blazer fits snugly at the waist, the way his slacks sit on his hips, the shape of Gihun's ass. It holds his attention for half a second too long before he forces himself to look away. “Let’s go,” he says, steering the conversation forward.

The ride to 'Lumière' is smooth and efficient, Sangwoo’s driver navigating through the midday traffic with practiced ease. The car is quiet for the most part, save for Soyeon’s excited chatter about how perfect the restaurant will be for their meeting.

They arrive soon enough.

'Lumière' is a place that is refined, and exclusive. The kind of place where reservations are booked weeks, if not months, in advance.

But for Sangwoo a single call was all it took.

The three of them step inside, greeted immediately by a well-dressed host who ushers them to a private table without question. There’s no waiting, no hesitation. The kind of seamless service reserved for people like him. It’s the sort of place where high-profile guests are the norm. CEOs, celebrities, foreign dignitaries, all common sights. A renowned pastry artist, a tech mogul, and his fiancée barely warrant a second glance.

Soyeon squeals with excitement. “Wah, oppa, this place is so beautiful!”

Before Sangwoo can say anything, Gihun turns to him with an appreciative smile. “Thank you for setting this whole thing up.”

“It’s nothing,” Sangwoo responds, trying to keep his tone casual. He reaches for the menu, flipping it open as if it demands his full attention. “Let’s just go ahead and order.”

As usual, Soyeon orders for all of them without asking. She insists they should eat something light so they don’t ruin their appetite for the cake, then promptly decides on soup and seafood. Sangwoo holds back a sigh, mildly irritated. There were far better dishes he could’ve introduced to Gihun, something that would’ve actually shown off the restaurant’s quality.

 He tells himself he’ll just bring him back another time. Then immediately catches himself and mentally kicks himself for even thinking that.

A short while later, with Soyeon and Gihun chatting easily, Sangwoo finds his attention drifting to the way Gihun’s fingers curve around his silverware. Gihun's hands have always been like that, strong, slightly rough, but precise. His thumb taps idly against the handle of his fork as he listens to Soyeon talk and Sangwoo can't look away.

Their food arrives, drawing Sangwoo's focus back. The soup is a delicate but aromatic, served in white porcelain bowls. The seafood dish follows, seared scallops resting atop a velvety purée, garnished with fresh herbs.

As they eat, Soyeon eagerly asks Gihun about his pastry shop. He answers with ease, his tone animated. Each time he speaks, Sangwoo listens closely.

At one point, Gihun looks over at Sangwoo, and their eyes meet across the table.

It lasts barely a second before Sangwoo shifts his focus back to his plate, expression carefully neutral. Gihun doesn’t comment, just continues answering Soyeon’s latest question, as if the moment hadn’t happened at all.

Before long, the plates are cleared, and Soyeon claps her hands together in excitement. “Okay! Now for the most important part! The cake!”

Gihun laughs, light and pleasant, before reaching into the bag beside him. He sets a pastel-colored box on the table, its soft hue familiar, something Sangwoo recognizes from the branding on Gihun’s shop. Printed neatly on the lid is the bakery’s logo, the same one displayed on its storefront.

Sangwoo watches as Gihun lifts the lid and carefully takes out the cake. It’s a refined thing, simple but deliberate, its surface smooth with a muted warmth and deep beige. There are slivers of candied citrus resting on top, arranged neatly, intentionally. As Sangwoo looks closer, he notices the cake is already pre-sliced, each portion cut evenly.

Soyeon waves down a server. “Three small plates, please! And three forks!” she says without hesitation.

When the tableware arrives, Gihun picks up the serving knife and begins plating the cake. His movements are practiced, steady. He hands a plate to Sangwoo, and for a brief second, their fingers brush together.

It’s barely a touch, but warmth lingers where their fingers brushed. Sangwoo grips the plate just a little tighter than necessary, ignoring the way his pulse ticks up. He exhales, focuses on the cake instead. Cuts into it. The fork glides through cleanly, holding their shape even as he lifts the piece to his mouth.

And. Wow.

It’s incredible. The first bite melts on his tongue, light and rich. The cake is soft, the icing impossibly creamy, and everything goes together so effortlessly it’s almost unfair.

Across the table, Gihun finally speaks, casual and composed as ever. “I tried to balance both flavors you wanted, the bitterness of the matcha and the citrus from the sudachi. But instead of matcha and sudachi, I chose two ingredients that complement each other better, hojicha and yuzu. The hojicha still has that earthy taste but it’s smoother, and the yuzu keeps the tangness without overpowering everything else.”

“Oh my god,” Soyeon speaks, in between bites. “How did you get the flavors to work together so well?”

Gihun grins, clearly pleased. “I used brown butter to smooth out the bitterness of the hojicha and almond to soften the tartness of the yuzu.”

Soyeon keeps talking, asking more questions, all of which Gihun patiently answers. Eventually, the topic shifts, and she starts rambling about how her friends would love his pastries, then goes off on a tangent about all the famous dessert shops she’s visited.

Sangwoo tunes her out.

He doesn’t notice how much of the cake he’s eaten until the last slice disappears, and he realizes, not only had they finished the whole thing, but he had gone for a second plate at some point.

Sangwoo really enjoyed it.

More than the actual meal, he thinks, setting his fork down.

Gihun leans back slightly, watching them with an easy smile. “So? What do you think?”

Sangwoo doesn’t hesitate. “It’s perfect.”

A small smile tugs at Gihun’s lips. “I’m happy you like it.”

Sangwoo exhales, reaching for his water. There’s something about the way Gihun looks at him just then. It was subtle, unreadable, but warm in a way that made him feel the need to break eye contact.

He’s about to wrap up the meeting when Soyeon speaks, clearly not ready to leave.

“The day’s still so young! We should do something else together.”

Sangwoo sighs. “I still have work.”

“Oh, come on, oppa. Just for a little while! There’s a new lounge bar that opened recently and I’ve been dying to check it out. And I’m sure Gihun-ssi  would want to check it out too! She turns to Gihun. “You wanna go too, right?”

Gihun shrugs, easygoing as ever. “I’m up for it.”

And just like that, the decision is made.

Sangwoo’s driver takes them to the place Soyeon talked about, a newly opened lounge bar in one of the city’s high-end districts. The building itself is sleek, all dark glass and funky geometrical architecture.

Inside, the atmosphere is polished but relaxed. Low lighting, plush seating, an ambient hum of conversation that never gets too loud. 

They sit down as a server hands them menus, but before Sangwoo can even look at his, Soyeon’s already tossing out suggestions. “Let’s get a cocktail flight! Oh, and maybe something light to snack on?”

She starts talking options with Gihun, once again pulling him into conversation. Sangwoo, meanwhile, takes the moment to settle in, letting his gaze drift. 

Gihun looks good. The lighting casts a subtle glow over his features, and there’s something about the way he leans into the conversation, relaxed and at ease. Sangwoo exhales, turning his attention back to the menu before his thoughts go anywhere they shouldn’t.

Eventually, the drinks arrive, an elegant arrangement of three small cocktails per person, each a different color, served in delicate glassware. Soyeon makes a game out of trying them, taking small sips and giving exaggerated reactions.

“So, Gihun-ssi,” Soyeon begins, swirling her drink absently. “I never got around to asking earlier, do you have a family?”

Gihun hums in thought before nodding. “Yes,  I have a daughter, her name is Gayeong.”

Sangwoo pauses mid-sip.

Soyeon perks up. “Oh, that's so cute! How old is she?”

“Twelve,” Gihun says, his tone warm, fond in a way that catches Sangwoo off guard. 

Soyeon coos, delighted. “That’s so sweet! I didn’t know you were married, though.”

Sangwoo’s grip on his glass tightens just a little bit as he listens to the conversation.

Gihun shakes his head. “Her mom and I divorced when Gayeong was five. I got custody and she's living with me here in Korea while her mom moved to the states.”

“Ah,” she nods in understanding. “Have you been with anyone else since then?”

There’s a small beat before Gihun answers. “I was in a relationship about a year ago. But it didn’t work out.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Soyeon responds, tone sympathetic.. “Was it another ex wife? Or an ex girlfriend?”

Gihun pauses before finally answering. “It was an ex boyfriend.”

Sangwoo stills.

Soyeon blinks before nodding, taking it in stride. “Oh! So you’re gay?”

“Bi, actually.”

Sangwoo freezes.

The words echo, the information slapping him in the face. 

Gihun is into men.

The realization lands with a strange weight and  just for a moment, a fleeting, reckless moment, a thought sparks before he can stop it.

He could have had a chance.

The thought is immediate and unwelcome, settling heavily in his stomach before he even has time to process it. And yet, it lingers. Unshakable.

He takes a slow sip of his drink, expression unreadable.

Soyeon is still talking, still engaged in conversation as if nothing significant just happened. And maybe, for her, nothing did.

Sangwoo forces himself to act the same but he catches the way Gihun glances at him

“You alright?” Gihun asks, tone curious.

Sangwoo doesn’t hesitate. “I’m fine.” He drowns the rest of his drink, ignoring the subtle weight of Gihun’s gaze before setting his glass down with a quiet clink.

Soyeon picks up the conversation easily, steering it back to whatever she can think about and Gihun is engaging with her with the same enthusiasm. 

Sangwoo does his best to offer something to the conversation.

By the time they leave the lounge, the late afternoon sun casts long shadows over the pavement. Sangwoo’s car pulls up, and the three slide in, the ride settling into a comfortable lull.

It isn’t long before they reach Gihun’s apartment. As the car slows, Gihun unbuckles his seatbelt and glances between them with an easy smile. “I had a really good time. Thank you for today.”

Soyeon smiles back, cheerful as ever. Sangwoo stays quiet, staring out the window as Gihun steps out and disappears into the shop.

They drive away, the hum of the engine the only sound for a moment. Then, Soyeon sighs, a small smile on her lips. “I like Gihun-ssi. He’s really sweet.”

"Yeah, he's amazing." The comment easily comes out of Sangwoo's lips and he doesn't bother to see how Soyeon reacted to what he said.

The city blurs past, familiar and unremarkable, until they reach his office building. Just as the car rolls to a stop, Soyeon suddenly gasps.

“Oh my gosh! I forgot to talk to Gihun-ssi about the cake’s design!” Sangwoo barely has time to turn before she’s already ranting. “We need to set up another appointment!”

Sangwoo exhales sharply.

He had another reason to see Gihun again.

Chapter Text

The car rolls to a smooth stop right in front of the bakery. The engine hums for a moment before shutting off completely, leaving only the muffled sounds of the street around them.

Sangwoo steps out first and Soyeon follows a beat later.

The "Closed" sign hangs on the window, the bold lettering clear against the glass. It doesn’t deter them in the slightest. Soyeon steps up and gives the door a few bright, rhythmic knocks, peering inside like she might catch a glimpse of movement.

Sangwoo exhales sharply, hands slipping into his pockets as he waits. His secretary had handled the scheduling, and the cake appointment had ended up on a day the shop was closed. 

The door swings open, and Gihun greets them with a smile. “Hey!” he greets, tone bright. “Come in! Come in!”

They step further into the store, and it’s much like last time, warm lighting, neatly arranged displays, but unlike before, they aren’t the only ones here. A few people are in the main area of the shop.

"Let me introduce you to the team." Gihun gestures toward the group inside. "This is Jungbae, the manager, you’ve met him before. And these are Hyunju Daeho, Junhee, they help me out in the kitchen, And Junho, Saebyeok, and Jiyeong here work the counter!” 

“Oh my gosh! I love your outfit!” Soyeon exclaims.

Sangwoo glances and notices she’s talking to the tall woman Gihun had introduced as Hyunju.

Hyunju smiles. “Thank you. I think your hair clip is pretty.”

Soyeon grins, reaching up to touch the accessory in her hair.

Sangwoo turns back to Gihun. “Thanks for meeting with us again.”

Gihun smiles. “Of course. It’s a pleasure to discuss the cake designs with you.”

Sangwoo glances around. “Are we intruding on anything?”

Gihun shakes his head. “Not at all. When we’re closed, we use leftover ingredients to make pastries so nothing goes to waste. That’s why everyone’s here this morning.”

Sangwoo watches as Daeho and Junhee move in and out of the kitchen, each of them holding a tray of pastries in their hands.

Gihun gestures for them to follow. “Come on, we’ll talk over here,” he says, leading them to the private room where they had the cake tasting, stepping inside ahead of them.

As they sit down, Soyeon barely waits a second before launching in. “I’ve been thinking about this all week! The cake was already perfect, but I was wondering, do you think we could make it pink and blue? Like, really soft, pretty shades? It would match everything so well!”

Gihun leans back slightly, considering. “We could, but to get those colors naturally, I’d have to use ingredients that would affect the flavor. If we go artificial, the colors won’t be as vibrant as you might expect.”

Soyeon gasps, eyes widening. “Oh no! I don’t want to ruin the perfect flavor of the cake!” She waves her hands as if physically pushing the idea away. “No, no, no. Whatever color is fine!” But then she hesitates, her fingers lightly tapping against the table. “I just don’t want it to clash with the theme…”

Gihun reaches for a notebook, flipping it open as he grabs a pen. “Why don’t you tell me the theme?” he asks, glancing at Soyeon with interest. “Maybe we can work something out.”

Soyeon practically vibrates with excitement, clapping her hands together. “Cotton candy dreamland!” she exclaims. “It’s going to be so cute!”

As Soyeon keeps talking Sangwoo finds himself tuning her out, the words start to blur, becoming background noise to something else entirely.

He’s focused on Gihun instead.

“What about this?” Gihun asks, his voice calm as he starts sketching on the pad. His hand moves fluidly, drawing delicate lines that soon form into an intricate cake design. “I’ll add edible blue cornflower and pink clover for color. That won’t affect the flavor at all,” he continues to sketch and Sangwoo watches as shapes begin to fill the once blank page on the pad.

Gihun would ask for Sangwoo’s and Soyeon’s opinions, with Soyeon eagerly adding in her input and Gihun adding in the details she wanted on the drawing. 

Sangwoo continues to watch Gihun draw, eyes focused on the way his fingers grip the pen, the controlled precision of his strokes, it’s mesmerizing. Every movement looks so effortless but deliberate at the same time, like he’s creating art in real time. It’s all Sangwoo can focus on as the sketch pad fills with the evolving design.

And before he knows it, the cake designing is finished. Gihun’s sketch pad shows off a sophisticated, multi-tiered cake with elegant and delicate floral accents in pastel hues, and a light, airy design. Soyeon squeals in excitement, and Gihun smiles brightly.

“You really are a genius at your craft!” Soyeon says excitedly, making Gihun grin and rub the back of his neck before thanking Soyeon for the compliment. 

The two discuss a few more details about the cake, settling on the final touches before wrapping things up. Gihun thanks them for their input, and with a satisfied nod, he stands, ready to leave the room.

As they exit, the sound of movement and quiet chatter greets them. Gihun's team is busy packing up boxes and bags as they get everything in order for the deliveries.

Soyeon looks over at the flurry of activity and asks, "Are these the ones you were baking earlier?"

“Yep!” Jiyeong, who’s carefully stacking some boxes, grins and opens one to reveal a variety of donuts and other pastries. 

Soyeon leans in slightly, inhaling the warm, sugary aroma. "Oh my gosh, those smell amazing! Could I buy some? They look so delicious," she says, practically bouncing on her feet.

Jungbae, overhearing, steps in with a polite smile. "Unfortunately, they’re not for sale. These are going to be delivered to some important people."

Soyeon, still smiling, offers eagerly, "Well, we’d be happy to drive them there. It’ll be fun, and I’d love to meet these people."

 "Oh, no. You don’t have to do that.” Gihun chuckles lightly, waving a hand as if to brush off her offer. “We’ve got it covered, you don’t have to go through the trouble.”

“It’s not trouble,” Sangwoo says before he could stop himself. He clears his throat slightly. “If it’s important, we don’t mind driving you. It’s the least we can do.”

Gihun hesitates for a moment before nodding. "Well… if you're sure, then I won’t turn you down. Thank you, I really appreciate it."

He’s glad he brought the luxury SUV today, the one Soyeon usually insists on for shopping trips since she had planned to drag him to the mall after the cake meeting earlier that day.

Sangwoo introduces Gihun and his team, and the driver politely greets them before escorting them into the vehicle.

The car glides through the streets, the hum of the engine filling the space. The driver keeps his eyes focused on the road as he navigates through the city. Gihun had given him the address earlier, a place tucked away from the main thoroughfares, and the car turns down quieter, less traveled streets.

Sangwoo watches the scenery shift as they head farther from the city center. Buildings grow a little older, and the pace of life seems slower in this part of town. The car ride is quiet, save for the conversation between Gihun’s friends and Soyeon.

It’s a good ten minutes before the car begins to slow down, turning onto a narrow street. The building up ahead isn’t anything special, just an old, humble structure with a few small windows, but it has a warmth to it, something inviting.

The car pulls to a stop, and as they do, Sangwoo notices the sign for the place. It was a small, simple plaque reading “Hope Haven Orphanage.” 

Soyeon, still smiling from her conversation with Gihun’s team, is the first to notice the sign. Her eyebrows furrow slightly, a look of realization crossing her face. “Oh,” she murmurs, her voice soft but surprised. “It’s an orphanage.”

Gihun smiles gently. “Yeah, it’s one of the places we deliver to regularly. We’ve been doing this for a while now.”

Sangwoo glances over at him, processing the information. The car engine shuts off, and the driver turns to open the door for them, ushering them out. Gihun’s team starts to gather their boxes of pastries, ready to bring them inside.

They step out of the car, the chill in the air brushing against their skin. Sangwoo gives a quick nod to his driver. “I’ll call you when we’re ready,” he says, his voice steady.

The original idea was to just drive Gihun and his friends to the place but something has shifted and now Sangwoo wants to stay and see what he can do. 

A nun steps out of the gates, her face lighting up as soon as she sees Gihun. “Mr. Seong Gihun! Hello, it’s good to see you again!” she calls out, her voice warm and welcoming.

Gihun smiles brightly at her, waving as he walks forward. “Sister Ji-hye!” He greets her with a hug, clearly familiar and comfortable with her. “How’ve you been?”

Sister Ji-hye laughs softly as she pulls back from the hug. “Busy, as always! But it's good to see you. And who have you brought with you today?” Her eyes shift to Sangwoo and Soyeon, standing a bit behind him.

Gihun grins and gestures to the two. “This is Cho Sangwoo and Kang Soyeon, they’re my clients and good friends of mine.”

Sister Ji-hye offers the two a welcoming smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Sangwoo gives a polite nod, the faintest smile on his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you as well,” he says smoothly.

Sister Ji-hye leads them through the gates, her footsteps echoing lightly as they walk down a small gravel path. The orphanage has a peaceful, almost quiet atmosphere, with neatly maintained gardens and flower beds lining the walkways. 

They walk through the hallway, sunlight pouring in through the big windows and spreading across the wooden floors, until they reach an open space that looks like a garden.

When the group enters, a few children are already scrambling up to their feet.

Sangwoo stands to the side, watching as Gihun and his tem approach the children. His attention is caught by how natural it all feels, how effortless Gihun moves through the crowd, high fiving with the kids with a genuine smile. 

He doesn’t notice at first that Soyeon has wandered off until her voice rises, cheerful and a bit louder than necessary.

Oh my god, that is so cute,” she says, crouching beside the picnic table where Saebyeok hands out pastries and stickers to the kids. She picks up one of the stickers. “Did you design this?”

Saebyeok shakes her head. “No, Jiyeong did.”

Soyeon lights up. “Jiyeong? The one with the cool piercings?”

A smile appears on Saebyeok’s face. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

“She’s really talented,” Soyeon says, glancing around the open area. “I noticed you guys are pretty close! Are you two sisters?”

There’s a beat of silence. Saebyeok’s hand stills on the edge of a box. She opens her mouth, but before she can speak, a familiar voice cuts in smoothly.

“Actually, we’re dating.”

Jiyeong steps in beside her, slipping an arm easily around Saebyeok’s shoulders, as casual as if she were commenting on the weather. Her tone is light, confident and honest. Saebyeok lets out a soft breath, almost a laugh, and leans into her without hesitation.

Soyeon blinks at Saebyeok’s words, her lips parting slightly in surprise. “You’re dating? That’s…wow, that’s really sweet.” She looks between them, a small smile on her face. 

“Yeah! She’s a handful. But at least she’s cute.” Jiyeong says, obviously joking. Saebyeok in turn rolls her eyes but a smile is still on her face.

Sangwoo stands off to the side, quietly watching. The way they speak about each other, so casually, so comfortable, it catches him off guard. 

He’s always known that there’s a world out there where people are free to live like that, but he never imagined he'd be around their orbit. He’s standing with them in the same place and he feels... he doesn’t know what to feel. Envy would make him seem selfish. Pride would feel like he’s intruding. But maybe relieved, he thinks, relieved that things are different for the two young women.

He doesn’t look but he knows Gihun is standing next to him. “I didn’t know two of your employees are dating.” Sangwoo says.

“Saebyeok and Jiyeong? Yeah, they’ve been together for months.” Gihun comments as the pastry shop team begin handing out the treats.

"They're... easy with each other," Sangwoo says, almost under his breath.

“They are, aren’t they?”  Gihun chuckles. "You know, this country still has unfavorable views for people like us." 

Sangwoo’s stomach drops. For a split second, his mind blanks and his throat tightens. But then Gihun gestures slightly toward the two girls, and Sangwoo realizes he doesn’t mean him.

Gihun's talking about himself and the young couple.

Sangwoo swallows and forces a nod. “Yeah.”

“But the younger generation...” Gihun continues, eyes still on the girls. “They’re really brave. They keep pushing things forward so people can be themselves. It’s amazing.”

Sangwoo doesn’t answer. He can’t. He just listens, the words settling over him like a quiet weight.

“I wish…” Gihun begins, and Sangwoo doesn’t miss the shift in the older man’s tone. “I wish I was brave like that when I was younger.” Sangwoo knows that feeling all too well.  "I wish I knew the things I know now back then."

He’s about to say something, he doesn’t even know what, when a sharp cry breaks through the warm air.

Both Sangwoo and Gihun turn.

Near the steps of the courtyard, a young boy stands frozen beside an overturned pastry box, lower lip trembling. His little hands are sticky with frosting, eyes wide with the kind of panic only kids know.

“Hey, hey, it’s alright. It's okay, champ,” Junho says, quickly approaching the kid.

Before Sangwoo can move, Gihun is already walking over to the scene.

“Uh-oh, what happened here?” he says gently as he reaches the boy, voice warm and easy. “Looks like a bit of a pastry tragedy, huh?”

The boy hiccups and wipes his nose with the back of his hand. Gihun smiles and holds out a fresh cream puff from another box. “Here, this one’s even bigger. You can have it.”

The child hesitates, then takes the pastry with both hands.

"Gihun-ssi! You're so good with kids!" Soyeon says, her voice loud as she bounces over to him.

Gihun, still crouched beside the child, looks up with a soft smile. "Thank you," he says, rising to his feet. "But I think we’re passed you addressing me so formally now, don't you think?"

Soyeon beams, clearly pleased. "In that case," she says, "I’ll call you oppa instead."

Gihun chuckles, nodding with a warm smile. "Alright, you can call me oppa if you want."

Soyeon’s smile widens, and she beams up at him. "Thanks, oppa!"

Sangwoo watches this exchange for a moment, shaking his head slightly. He turns away from the scene when he sees Jungbae , struggling with three large boxes of pastries. He’s trying to manage the stack, but it looks like he’s on the verge of losing his balance.

Sangwoo walks over without hesitation, offering a hand. “Here, let me take one of those,” he says, reaching for one of the boxes.

Jungbae looks up in surprise, but quickly nods gratefully. "Thank you, sir. I could use the help."

“It’s no problem.” Sangwoo offers a polite smile. “And just call me Sangwoo.”

 More kids have gathered, all excited to their treats.

Everyone falls into a steady rhythm. Gihun’s staff are already familiar with the drill and they move with practiced ease, opening boxes, arranging trays, and handing pastries to the kids. Sangwoo finds himself drawn into the motion, passing out sweet buns and fruit tarts, watching small hands reach up eagerly, faces filling up with joy. It’s not something he’s used to, but the simplicity of it, the gratitude, the laughter, the way the children light up at even the smallest treat, it settles something strange and unfamiliar in his chest.

Off to the side, Soyeon has planted herself among the women on Gihun’s team, Hyunju, Saebyeok, Junhee, and Jiyeong. She’s chattering away as she hands pastries with them, her gestures are animated, as she tells some story that makes Hyunju laugh and Jiyeong shake her head with a grin. Saebyeok raises an eyebrow in quiet amusement, and Junhee giggles behind her hand. Whatever they’re talking about, Soyeon seems entirely absorbed in it, basking in the attention. Sangwoo doesn’t know what the conversation’s about, and he doesn’t need to. He’s just relieved she’s distracted and not getting all up in his space for once.

Sangwoo steps back into the courtyard, the mid morning sun warming the stone underfoot. Around him, the orphanage bustles with activity, kids running with frosting smeared hands.

Junho crouches by a row of benches, carefully opening juice boxes for a group of younger children. Nearby, Jungbae deftly sidesteps a rogue soccer ball with a grin and a sharp word of warning. Daeho, meanwhile, is crouched on the ground with a few kids, tossing colorful gonggi stones into the air and catching them with a practiced ease as the kids watched him intently.

Hyunju glances up from where she’s organizing more treats, her arms full of small boxes. She spots Sangwoo, offers a smile, and gestures to the extra stack. Without needing to ask, he walks over and takes a few from her, his motions smooth and automatic. She nods, appreciative, and turns to call over two boys who’ve started arguing over a brownie.

Sangwoo continues to work when his gaze drifts to a boy sitting alone by a tree, his small hands resting idly in his lap. Before Sangwoo can think much of it, another child approaches, carefully holding two pastries. Without hesitation, the boy offers one to the other, wordlessly bridging the gap between them. The seated boy hesitates for only a moment before accepting, his face forming a small but genuine smile.

Something about the moment tugs at Sangwoo, stirring something long buried. He’s seen this before, not here, not with these kids, but with himself. He remembers the quiet solitude of his childhood, the way he kept to himself, until Gihun had appeared beside him, grinning, always with something in hand. A snack, a drink, something he knew Sangwoo would like. It had been so easy for Gihun to close the space between them, as if he never even noticed the walls Sangwoo had built.

A burst of laughter pulls him from his thoughts. He turns, eyes landing on Gihun in the middle of a group of children, a bright grin on his face. He’s playing with them, letting them climb onto him, pretending to stumble under their weight. There’s a lightness in the way he moves, the same unshakable warmth he’s always had, shining through as easily as it did back then.

Sangwoo finds himself smiling at the sight.

They spend the whole morning handing out pastries, drinks, and other treats to the children. The orphanage is filled with warmth and laughter, the kids beaming with excitement as they receive their gifts. Time passes without him realizing, and by the time they finish, the sun has shifted high overhead, casting long shadows across the courtyard.

It is already late noon when they finally wrap up. One by one, goodbyes are exchanged, grateful smiles from the nuns, cheerful waves from the children. Gihun and his team linger a little longer, chatting easily as they finish up the last of their tasks.

Sangwoo takes out his phone and calls his driver, and the car arrives in no time.

They drop Gihun and his friends back at the shop, parting with easy goodbyes before driving off. The car feels quieter without them, the absence of their chatter settling in as they continue on.

Soyeon is next. When they pull up in front of her place, she steps out with a satisfied sigh, stretching her arms before turning back to the car. “See you later,” she says, waving as the door swings shut behind her.

Then it’s just Sangwoo.

By the time he gets home, the day feels heavier on his shoulders, though not in an unpleasant way. As he steps inside, his mother greets him.

"Did the cake design discussion go well?" she asks.

"Yes," he says without hesitation.

She nods, satisfied. "Did you have fun today?"

Sangwoo almost says nothing at first. But then, his mind drifts back to the orphanage, to the sound of children’s laughter, to the way Gihun was with them. The image stays with him, settling somewhere deep and unshakable.

“…Yeah,” he finally says. “I had a lot of fun.”

And for once, he doesn’t have to think about whether or not it’s true.

Chapter Text

The mall is packed, bustling with couples, families, and groups of teenagers weaving through the crowd with shopping bags swinging from their arms. It’s the kind of mid-tier shopping center that caters to young professionals and trendy college students, decent brands, affordable prices, nothing particularly high-end.

Not the kind of place anyone would expect to find a billionaire.

Sangwoo wouldn’t be here at all if it were up to him. If he had to shop, he’d do it efficiently, either in some sleek, quiet boutique where the staff already knew his measurements or online, where no one would bother him at all. But Soyeon had insisted.

"The clothes are cuter here, " she’d said with a smile, like that explained everything. And Sangwoo, who hadn’t cared enough to argue, had gone along with it.

Now, he walks beside her, hands in his pockets, listening as she comments on store displays and points out things she likes. It’s not that he enjoys this. He’s just here. Because he has to be.

This was supposed to be a date.

To Sangwoo, it feels more like a task.

Then Soyeon stops, her eyes lighting up with recognition. "Oh! Gihun!"

Sangwoo turns to where Soyeon was looking. 

Ever since that day at the orphanage, she’s been pulling him into whatever activities Gihun and the people at his pastry shop are doing. That means, for the past month, Sangwoo has been spending time with them, with Gihun, more than he ever expected to.

He doesn’t find himself complaining about it at all.

From across the crowd, Gihun turns toward them, blinking in surprise. He isn’t alone. A little girl stands beside him, holding his hand.

Soyeon practically beams. “And this little cutie must be Gayeong?”

Gihun grins, giving the girl’s hand a small squeeze. “Yep! Say hi to Ms. Soyeon, pumpkin.”

Gayeong smiles politely. “Hello, Ms. Soyeon. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You are so adorable,” Soyeon gushes. “Gihun, oh my god, can I take her shopping? I need to take her shopping.”

Gihun blinks, looking surprised at the offer. “Uh..”

“I have to. Look at her! There’s this kids’ boutique on the second floor, she’ll look so precious in their outfits.”

“I don’t know…”

Soyeon gives him a pointed look. “You don’t want her to have cute clothes?”

Gihun gives her a flat look. “Don’t do that.”

“Come on , it’ll be fun!” Soyeon insists. “You know me, Gihun. I’m not gonna take no for an answer.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t interfere with their day.” Sangwoo comments, finally stepping in. 

Soyeon pouts, eyes focused on Gihun. “Just let me buy her one dress. Just one!” She turns to the kid, switching tactics. “What do you think? Want to look at cute dresses?”

Gayeong glances up at her father, considering. “…Can I?”

Gihun shakes his head and grins in amusement. “Alright, alright. Just don’t let her talk you into buying her a pony.”

Soyeon grins, triumphant. “No promises!”

The girls walk off, leaving Sangwoo and Gihun alone and something close to awkward lingers in the air.

Sangwoo realizes that this is the first time the two are together without anyone else with them, but before he can overthink it, Gihun eases the tension with his relaxed, easygoing nature

“I guess it’s just you and me.” Gihun speaks, grinning. “What do you say, you wanna hang out?”

Sangwoo barely hesitates. “Yeah.”

They fall into step together, wandering through the mall, and somewhere along the way, And before he knows it, Sangwoo finds himself easing up. It’s easy, being with Gihun. Easier than he ever lets it be with anyone else.

They’re in the middle of eating cheap, greasy mall food when a voice calls out.

“Well, well. Look who it is”

Sangwoo looks up to find a man standing beside their table. Tall, well-dressed, a little too familiar in the way he holds himself. His smile is casual, but there’s something in his eyes that immediately puts Sangwoo on edge.

“Wow,” the man says, tilting his head as he looks Gihun over. “Haven’t seen you in a while. You look… comfortable .”

Sangwoo doesn’t know what the hell that’s supposed to mean, but he doesn’t like the way it’s said.

Then the man’s gaze drops to the table. His smirk twitches as he takes in Gihun’s tray of half-eaten fries, napkins crumpled into loose balls, sauce smeared on the paper liner. “Woah, that’s a lot of food. And still freakishly thin.” 

Sangwoo’s jaw tightens.

“So, do you still eat like a chipmunk, or are you normal now?”

“What do you want, Sihyun?” Gihun asks, tone sharp.

“No need to get prissy, I was just saying hi.” what’s his face says, in a tone that can only be described as patronizing. “I didn’t realize you were with a friend.” The man shifts his attention to Sangwoo and Sangwoo doesn’t like the smug grin on this man’s face. “Did he weasel his way into your life too?”

And with that line, something inside Sangwoo snaps.

He is seconds away from saying something sharp, from standing up and telling this guy exactly what he thinks of him.

But before Sangwoo can say anything, Gihun steps forward. “Fuck off, man!” 

The asshole sighs, shaking his head and Sangwoo is getting more pissed at the way he treats  Gihun like some petulant child throwing a fit in public and not someone he’s harassing.. “Still  have that temper, huh? Still so immature,” the jerk murmurs before finally walking away.

“Who the fuck was that?” Sangwoo immediately asks, not caring about subtly at all.

“You just had the pleasure of meeting my ex” Gihun responds, trying to keep his tone casual. But Sangwoo could hear the tension underneath it.

He already knew Gihun was bi and dated a man, but Sangwoo didn’t expect that the person Gihun dated could be like that!

“He’s an asshole,” Sangwoo says before he can stop himself.

Gihun lets out a short laugh. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

Sangwoo should drop it. Gihun already told him what happened, and pulled the curtain back far enough for Sangwoo to see the wreckage underneath. What’s the point of picking through it? What is he even looking for?

But the question lingers, stubborn, lodged between his ribs. He can’t shake the way that guy spoke to Gihun, and he can’t ignore how Gihun just hesitated to eat a single fry when he was happily munching them before. 

And so Sangwoo finally asks “Why did you go out with him?”

Gihun leans back, exhaling slowly. “He wasn’t like that when we first started dating.” His gaze is distant. “When I..when I realized that I liked men too, he was my first boyfriend.” Gihun chuckles. “I thought that counted for something. He was…special, in a way.”

Sangwoo listens, attention focused on the different emotions on Gihun’s face.

“So when things got bad, I kept thinking that if I just held on, if I just believed in him, he’d go back to the guy who used to bring me flowers every day.” the smile on the older man’s face turn rueful. “But he didn’t.”

Sangwoo hesitates before asking. “When did you decide to break up with him?”

Gihun’s grip tightens around his drink. “When I walked into his place and saw him in bed with another man”

Something in Sangwoo goes cold. Then, just as quickly, it ignites.

The thought of Gihun being hurt like that, lied to, betrayed, fills him with rage. The anger burns in his throat, choking him with words he won’t say. He wishes he had taken the chance to punch the asshole from the moment he spoke Gihun’s name.

Gihun shifts in his seat and Sangwoo pulls away from his thoughts to turn to him. “It’s all good, though.” Gihun exhales . “Breaking up with him was the best decision I ever made.”

Sangwoo swallows down the fury. He forces his fingers to relax, unclenching his jaw just enough to speak. “Good,” he says, voice steady. “He doesn’t deserve you.”

Neither of them says anything after that. The weight of the conversation settles between them, thick and unshaken. Gihun doesn’t look uncomfortable, exactly, but he’s staring down at his half-eaten fries like they hold the answer to something.

Sangwoo shifts. He should do something. Say something.

The first thing that comes to mind is stupid, but it’s already leaving his mouth before he can stop it.

“…Ice cream.”

Gihun blinks. “Huh?”

Sangwoo clears his throat. “Do you… want ice cream?” He’s already regretting it, already bracing himself for Gihun to tell him the offer was stupid.

 But instead, Gihun just grins. “What, like I’m a kid getting a treat after a rough day?”

Sangwoo rolls his eyes in amusement. “Do you want some or not?”

The grin on Gihun’s face widens. “Like hell I’m turning down free ice cream”

They don’t talk much as they walk to the ice cream stand, but the silence isn’t heavy anymore. It’s just there, something natural, something shared.

Sangwoo orders without thinking, and when Gihun steps up to get his, he doesn’t think much of it, until they’re standing side by side again, cones in hand, and he realizes they got the same flavor.

It’s the same one they always used to get when they were kids.

The realization sneaks up on him, settling somewhere deep in his chest. It doesn’t hurt, exactly. If anything, it’s… warm. Something old and familiar, something untouched by time.

Gihun takes a big bite of his ice cream and immediately winces. “Fuck, forgot how cold this shit is.”

Sangwoo snorts. “How do you forget ice cream is cold?”

“I don’t know! Thought my teeth were stronger than this.”

Sangwoo stares at him. “You bite your ice cream?”

“Yes,” Gihun says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because I’m not a coward.”

Sangwoo blinks, momentarily stunned, then a laugh breaks out of him before he can stop it. It starts as a sharp breath, then unfurls into something real, something unguarded.

Gihun grins, triumphant. “See? I’m teaching you how to enjoy life.”

Sangwoo shakes his head, still laughing as he takes a much more sensible lick of his own ice cream. “You’re an idiot.”

“An idiot who enjoys his ice cream properly.”

Sangwoo doesn’t bother arguing. Not when the moment feels this easy, this light, as if the weight of earlier has been completely wiped away.

As they weave through the mall, the taste of ice cream still lingers in Sangwoo’s mouth, the cold sweetness fading with every step. Their conversation flows easily, light and familiar, until they spot Soyeon and Gayeong waiting near a bench.

Soyeon is holding three shopping bags.

Gihun takes one look at them and raises a brow. “That’s more than one dress.”

Soyeon, still chirpy as ever, beams. “She looks cute in everything! I had to exercise serious restraint.”

Beside her, Gayeong clutches a cup of what looks like strawberry milk and sighs. “I had to talk her down.”

Gihun huffs a laugh and shakes his head. “Well, thanks for taking care of her.”

Soyeon waves a hand. “Please, this was fun.”

Gihun turns to his daughter. “Did you say thank you?”

Gayeong straightens and bows her head slightly. “Thank you, Soyeon-ssi.”

Soyeon grins. “Anytime.”

The four go their separate ways, and Sangwoo and Soyeon sit in the back of his car as the driver takes them to their respective homes.

It’s been days since Sangwoo and Gihun ran into each other at the mall. The memory lingers but life moves forward, and Sangwoo has buried himself in work, pushing thoughts of that day into the background.

So when his phone rings, and hears Gihun’s voice on the other line, it takes him a second to process it.

He blinks, Gihun is calling him.

It must be a mistake.

"Hey, Sangwoo! Hope I’m not interrupting anything," Gihun says, voice as easy as ever.

Sangwoo straightens in his seat. "No, not at all."

"Great. I just wanted to let you know that Soyeon gave me your number. She asked me to give you baking lessons,  ‘said you’ll be into it. And we’re doing it at your place because your kitchen is bigger.”

There’s a brief pause as Sangwoo processes this information. 

“Right,” Sangwoo says slowly. “Of course. That makes sense.”

"Cool, cool," Gihun replies. "She gave me instructions to come over today. But does that work for you?"

Sangwoo glances around his home office, his perfectly arranged but lived-in space. He imagines the rest of his house, untouched by his presence but not exactly spotless. It’s not bad, but it’s not ready for guests either.

“Uh, yeah. That works,” Sangwoo says, already mentally mapping out everything that needs to be cleaned.

As soon as the call ends, he springs into action.

He moves through the house, straightening anything that looks even remotely out of place. The decorative pillows on the couch? Fixed. The kitchen counter? Wiped down twice. He’s halfway through rearranging a fruit bowl when his mother stops to look at him.

She raises a brow. "Are we hosting the president today?"

Sangwoo exhales. "No. Just a friend."

"A friend?" she repeats, sounding intrigued.

"Soyeon will be here too," he adds quickly, as an afterthought.

His mother hums. "And have I met this friend?”

Sangwoo hesitates before answering. “It’s Gihun.”

His mother brightens immediately. "Oh, Gihun! That sweet boy who always gave you rides on his bike! He was such a sweetheart and you two used to be inseparable when you were kids! I'm so happy you're reconnecting."

Sangwoo chooses not to comment on that. Instead, he enlists their house helpers to tidy up while he changes into something more presentable.

By the time Gihun arrives, everything is in place.

Sangwoo’s mother greets Gihun first, warm and welcoming "Gihun! My goodness, look at you. You’ve grown so tall and handsome!"

Gihun grins. “Not as tall and handsome as your son.”

Sangwoo’s mother laughs at that, calling Gihun a jokester. Meanwhile, Sangwoo feels his ears heat up. He busies himself adjusting his shirt as if that will somehow make the moment pass faster.

His mother offers Gihun tea and heads off to make it herself until Sangwoo reminds her they have helpers for that. He signals one of them to do it instead.

"Thank you for the hospitality," Gihun says as he sets a box on the table. He lifts the lid, revealing a neat display of freshly baked pastries. “Brought these to go with the tea. And this one,” he taps a separate, unopened box, “we can save for Soyeon so she doesn’t miss out.”

"This is amazing," Sangwoo’s  mother praises, after taking a bite.. "You’ve done well for yourself, Gihun! Tell me about your shop!”

As the two fall into easy conversation, Sangwoo watches, listening. There’s something about the moment,the casual way Gihun charms his mother, the effortless way they talk, that feels familiar yet unfamiliar all at once. He thinks, just for a second, that this is what it must feel like to introduce a partner to a parent.

He shuts down the thought immediately.

Gihun eventually checks his phone and asks, “So, when’s Soyeon getting here?”

Right on cue, Sangwoo’s phone buzzes with a message from her. There’s been an emergency. She won’t make it. She says they should go ahead without her, and she’ll catch up next time.

Sangwoo relays the information.

Gihun tilts his head. "Do you still want to do the lesson?"

"You already came all this way," Sangwoo replies. "Would be a waste not to."

Gihun turns to Sangwoo’s mother. “Would you like to join us, ma’am?”

She chuckles. “I’d love to, but I have plans to meet a friend.”

Gihun hums, then says, lightheartedly, “Ah, sounds like a date.”

Sangwoo’s mother giggles at that, clearly amused.

Sangwoo, caught off guard, blurts out, “She doesn’t go on dates! She can’t go on dates! She’s too busy being my mom!”

His mother and Gihun both laugh at his flustered reaction.

Sangwoo watches them, something warm settling in his chest. It’s been years since he’s seen his mother like this, so at ease, so effortlessly fond of someone outside their usual world. But then again, Gihun isn’t just anyone.

Gihun used to be a part of their world, Sangwoo and his mother’s. Sangwoo thinks he wouldn’t mind if Gihun became part of their world again.

Once his mother leaves, the lesson begins.

Gihun starts with the basics. Simple techniques, foundational skills. And Sangwoo listens. He listens intently, going as far as to take notes, much to Gihun’s amusement.

The afternoon passes quickly, the kitchen filling with the smell of butter and sugar, the sound of easy conversation, and the occasional praise from Gihun whenever Sangwoo follows an instruction correctly. 

By the time they finish, it almost feels like no time has passed at all. With the lessons done, neither of them moves right away. Instead, they take it easy, chatting idly and letting the conversation drift until eventually, Gihun checks the time.

“I should get going,” Gihun says.”I need to pick Gayeong up from school.”

Sangwoo nods before standing up. “I can have my driver take you.” he offers, taking out his phone.

“No, it’s fine.” Gihun smiles, “I took my car.”

Sangwoo nods. “Right.” he puts his phone back in his pocket and glances at Gihun.  “Thanks for the lesson.”

Gihun grins, easy and warm. “I had fun.”

With that, he heads for the door, and Sangwoo watches him go.

Left alone in the quiet kitchen, Sangwoo exhales, glancing at the counter where traces of flour still linger. The scent of sugar and butter clings to the air, faint, warm, unmistakably sweet.

Chapter Text

Sangwoo settles into the backseat of the car, his fingers idly scrolling through his phone as he waits for Soyeon to come out. A message from Gihun lights up the screen, and without thinking, he taps on it, quickly replying.

Moments later, Soyeon steps out of the house, her pace slower than usual. Sangwoo glances at her, his hand still on the door handle. She slides into the car next to him, her presence filling the space between them. She’s quieter than usual, more subdued.

“Here we go,” she says in a surprisingly low voice.

Sangwoo nods, telling the driver to head to her parents’ house. As the car pulls away from the curb, his phone buzzes again and when he sees it’s another message from Gihun he doesn’t hesitate to respond.

The drive feels long, the quiet between him and Soyeon stretching out in an uncomfortable way

As they pull up to the grand gates of the estate, the car slows, and the large iron doors open with a soft, creaking sound. The driveway stretches out before them, a long path leading to the imposing mansion. Sangwoo exhales quietly as the car comes to a stop, his mind already on the evening ahead. He steps out first, waiting for her to follow, and together they make their way toward the entrance.

The front door swings open before they can even knock, and her father greets them with a wide smile and a hearty embrace. He pulls her in close, patting her back with affection, before letting go with a grin. “It’s been too long, my dear!” he exclaims warmly. As he steps back, he turns to Sangwoo, offering a firm handshake.

Her stepmother, standing just behind, leans in to kiss Soyeon on the cheek. As she pulls back, her eyes linger on the hair clips Soyeon is wearing, her smile thinning slightly. “Oh sweetheart, I told you not to wear these childish clips anymore.”

Soyeon, without hesitation, removes them and mumbles, “I’m sorry, Mother.”

The stepmother doesn’t acknowledge the apology, offering only a soft hum before turning to Sangwoo. She extends her hand, her greeting polite but brisk. “Good to see you again,” she says.

Soyeon’s father steps in, his tone more relaxed. “We’re glad you could join us, Sangwoo. Welcome.”

With a nod, the stepmother leads them toward the dining room. “Follow me.” She speaks. “We made sure that everything was perfect for this dinner.” 

As they step inside, the atmosphere changes immediately. The dining room feels far too spacious, the table stretched out between them in an almost clinical arrangement, the fine china and sparkling silverware gleaming under the harsh overhead lights. The soft hum of the fridge in the background competes with the uneasy silence hanging in the air. Even the chandelier seems too bright, casting cold shadows across the food as they take their seats.

They haven’t even made it through the first course when Soyeon’s mother asks

“How are the wedding preparations going? I haven’t heard you mention them in a while.”

Soyeon glances at her briefly, her eyes flicking back to her plate almost immediately. “It’s going fine,” she answers, as if she’s reciting a line she’s already said too many times.

Soyeon’s mother leans forward slightly, but it’s not with any warmth. “Just fine?” she repeats, her tone tightening. “I hope you're taking care of things properly. This is your special day after all.”

Soyeon doesn’t look up. “I am,” she replies, her words detached. The fork scrapes against her plate in a slow, steady rhythm.

"Are you really?" Soyeon's mother presses, her tone sharp and insistent. "Because one of your bridesmaids mentioned you didn't attend the meeting about the dress alterations last Saturday."

Sangwoo thinks about what Soyeon had been up to that Saturday and he remembers that the two of them had gone on another trip at the orphanage with Gihun and everyone else. 

Soyeon lifts her gaze for the briefest moment, then drops it again. “I trust the seamstress handling them. She knows what she’s doing.” Her voice is flat, offering nothing else, and the words linger in the air like a stale afterthought.

Soyeon’s mother keeps eyeing her. “But this is your wedding, Soyeon. Don’t you think you control over these things? People can make mistakes. You don’t want them to ruin something this important, do you?”

Soyeon pushes her food around some more, her movements slow, deliberate. “I’m busy with other things,” she says without lifting her eyes. “The invitations, the venue, details... you know.”

Sangwoo doesn’t point out that all of those have been taken care of a long time ago.

“That’s not enough,” Soyeon’s mother snaps, not masking the irritation that’s creeping into her voice. “The wedding is about more than just the big picture. You need to care about every little detail.”

Soyeon’s fork pauses midair, but only for a moment. She sets it down gently. “I’m sure it’ll all be fine. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“It’s your wedding.” Soyeon’s mother doesn’t stop.  “You’re supposed to be excited about this. You can’t just leave everything up to the planners. You need to be involved. What are you doing right now?”

Soyeon doesn’t respond immediately, letting the silence build. Then, without looking up, she murmurs, “I’m taking care of things.”

“Honestly, Soyeon.” the woman makes a noise that indicates her annoyance. “Sometimes I wonder if you even want this wedding to happen.”

Soyeon shifts in her chair, wood creaking against the floor. 

The tension is almost palpable now, the silence between them hanging heavy as Soyeon’s step mother glares at her, but before she can retort, Soyeon’s father finally speaks up, his voice a little too calm in contrast to the growing heat. “Darling just let it go. We should let our daughter handle things her way. She’s responsible enough.”

Soyeon’s stepmother doesn’t seem satisfied. “I just want her to take it seriously,” she insists, her eyes narrowing. “A wedding is a lot of work, you can’t afford to be so indifferent.”

Soyeon’s father sighs, rubbing his temple. “She’ll take care of it, alright? Let her manage it how she wants."

The conversation shifts to a different topic, but there’s no relief from the tension. It’s as if they’re all stuck in a loop, each word an echo that grows more hollow with each passing moment. 

The meal drags on, the food growing cold. The heaviness of the atmosphere never fully eases.

The dinner ends quietly. Soyeon’s father extends a hand to Sangwoo, a brief, business-like handshake. 

Soyeon’s hug to her father is quick, and she pulls away just as swiftly, offering no more than a few polite words before turning toward the door.

They leave the house in silence, the soft click of the door closing behind them the only sound that marks their departure. As they step into the night, the air feels colder than it should, but neither of them acknowledges it. The car ride is equally still, the engine’s hum filling the space between them, but nothing else. No conversation. No attempt at small talk. Just the road ahead and the quiet rhythm of the night.

The car rolls through the quiet streets, the city’s lights flickering past the windows. Soyeon breaks the silence, her voice casual, though there’s an edge to it that Sangwoo can’t quite place.

“I’m craving something sweet,” she says, her gaze distant. “Can we stop by Gihun’s shop?”

Sangwoo’s heartbeat picks up, but he doesn’t let it show

“Sure.” he responds before providing his driver the new instructions.

The driver acknowledges with a nod, and moments later, the car smoothly shifts into the next lane, maneuvering through the late-night traffic. The hum of the engine fills the otherwise quiet car as they drive, the headlights illuminating the street ahead in sharp streaks of light.

Beside him, he hears Soyeon let out a sigh.

They arrive at the pastry shop just as the last traces of daylight start to fade. The shopfront is warmly lit, windows slightly fogged from the kitchen heat inside. The evening rush has passed, and the interior, though calmer, is far from quiet.

The moment Sangwoo steps through the door with Soyeon following, he’s met with chaos.

Saebyeok is chasing Junho around the front counter, Jiyeong hot on her heels, and Junho, grinning like an idiot,is narrowly dodging both of them, laughing under his breath despite the repeated threats being thrown at him.

“I’m gonna kill you!” Saebyeok shouts.

“Dead. You’re dead.” Jiyeong echoes, ducking beneath the swinging door flap to try and cut Junho off from the other side.

Sangwoo blinks, caught off guard. “What’s going on?”

Gihun, appearing from behind the counter, wipes his hands on a dish towel and shrugs casually. “They’re playing around.”

“Having someone take an embarrassing picture of you is not ‘playing around,’” Jiyeong snaps as she narrowly misses Junho.

“Oh for goodness’ sake. It’s just a picture,” Jungbae mutters from behind the espresso machine, not even looking up from what he’s doing.

“Daeho! Catch!” Junho yells, launching his phone across the room.

Daeho,sitting on a stool near the far counter, barely has time to react but catches it one-handed with a surprised grunt. The second the phone’s in his hand, Saebyeok spins toward him with a terrifying sense of purpose.

“Don’t you dare,” she warns.

Junhee jumps in from behind Daeho without warning, throwing her arms around his shoulders in an attempt to pry the phone from his hand. The two of them stumble, nearly knocking over a tray of wrapped scones on the counter behind them.

“Give it!” she hisses.

“No way!” Daeho clutches the phone tightly, twisting away as Junhee clings to his back. “I’m neutral! I’m Switzerland!”

“You caught the phone, idiot!” Saebyeok shouts, sprinting across the shop. “That makes you an accomplice!”

“Why is everyone insane?” Daeho wheezes, still holding the phone aloft as Junhee tries to climb him like a tree. “I’m being attacked!”

“Let go of the phone!” Jungbae says in an exasperated tone.

“They’re going crazy over a picture?” Sangwoo asks, eyes following the chaos with a raised brow.

“You should’ve seen them when they did one of their pranks,” Gihun replies with a chuckle. “Someone filled Jungbae’s locker with whipped cream.”

“That was you,” Hyunju calls from behind the counter where she’s carefully setting a tray of macarons into the display. She doesn’t even look up.

“What’s the picture, anyway?” Soyeon asks, walking over to the counter where Hyunju’s standing. “Is it bad?”

Hyunju leans across the counter, lowers her voice to a stage whisper. “It’s a picture of Saebyeok and Jiyeong cuddling in the break room.”

“HYUNJU!” Saebyeok and Jiyeong exclaim at the same time.

Hyunju shrugs, entirely unbothered. “She knows you two are together. Everyone here knows you two are together.”

The chase resumes at full intensity. Junho is now locked in a tug-of-war with Saebyeok over Daeho’s wrist while Jiyeong darts behind the counter, presumably trying to corner someone, or maybe just grab a weapon.

Through it all, Gihun steps closer to Sangwoo, shaking his head lightly, a small grin tugging at his mouth. “So, what can I do for you two?”

Sangwoo briefly turns to Soyeon who’s in a conversation with Hyunju before his attention focuses back on Gihun. “We actually came here to buy some pastries.”

“Got it,” Gihun nods, stepping back toward the counter as the disaster continues to swirl around them.

Sangwoo follows Gihun to the front counter, stopping in front of the glass display where an assortment of pastries is neatly arranged in quiet rows behind the glass.

“So, are you guys getting your usuals?” Gihun asks

“Yeah.” Sangwoo answers. “A whole box for each of us.” he pauses before continuing and can I also order some pastries for my mother too?”

"Coming right up!" Gihun says with a smile before grabbing a few black sesame financiers, marzipan cups, and coconut macaroons, arranging them neatly in Sangwoo’s box. He then places strawberry puff pastries, blueberry cheesecake strudels, and apple pocket pies in another box for Soyeon. Once those are done, he selects ensaymadas, dorayaki, and a couple of honeycomb basboussa, placing them in a box for Sangwoo’s mom.

Gihun takes Sangwoo’s card and slides it through the reader. The soft hum of the machine fills the air as it processes the payment. “I’m glad you and Soyeon enjoy my pastries,” he says with a warm smile.

Sangwoo grins, watching Gihun as he taps his card away. “Well, if my pants don’t fit anymore, I’ll know who to blame.”

A soft, amused chuckle escapes Gihun’s lips. Sangwoo’s smile deepens at the sound, his chest stirring with something light

Just then, Jungbae walks over. “Hey, did you tell him yet?” he asks, cutting into their moment.

“Tell me what?” Sangwoo asks, placing his wallet back on his pocket.

“I got tickets to the Doosan Bears game this weekend!” Gihun grins, an excited look on his face. “And I thought you and Soyeon might want to come along!”

The excitement rushes through Sangwoo. “H-holy shit,” he mutters under his breath, before clearing his throat, trying to regain his composure. “Yeah. Of course, I’d love to--” he catches himself, remembering he wasn’t the only one invited. He clears his throat again. “We’d love to go.” 

Sangwoo knows he's more than capable than buying his own ticket. but between the endless meetings, responsibilities, and the weight of everything else, he hadn’t found the time to get them. but with gihun's thoughtfulness he'll be able to let himself indulge into this. 

After the transaction is done, Soyeon mentions she wants to stay a little longer. For once, she suggests something Sangwoo actually doesn’t mind. He’s content to stay, letting the conversation flow around him while he enjoys the ease of being in the shop. He’s not thinking about work or anything else; he just lets the time pass without much effort.

After a while, they both realize it’s time to go. Sangwoo stands, and Soyeon follows suit. They exchange a few last words with Gihun before heading out. The door closes behind them, and they step out towards Sangwoo’s car.

Sangwoo’s eyes scan the entrance to the Baseball Stadium. The buzz of the crowd, the smell of hotdogs and popcorn, and the distant echo of cheers give the air a sense of anticipation.

He had been looking forward to this since Gihun gave him the tickets two days ago. The excitement he had been trying to suppress now surfaces as he walks alongside Soyeon, the energy of the stadium seeping into his veins.

They approach the ticket gates, and as soon as they enter, they spot the group. Gihun is the first to wave them over, his usual grin lighting up his face. “Hey! Over here!” he calls out, his tone warm.

“This is so exciting!” Soyeon speaks. “Though, I don’t know much about baseball.”

Hyunju turns to her with a smile. Don’t worry,” she says, her tone inviting. “It’s actually a lot of fun once you get the hang of it. If you have any questions, just ask!”

Soyeon laughs, nodding eagerly. “Thanks! I’ll definitely take you up on that.”

The group moves toward their seats, with Gihun and Sangwoo walking side by side at the front. The stadium is buzzing with energy along with shouts of excitement and the rhythmic clapping of fans echoing through the air, mixing with the crackling of the loudspeakers. The noise is a constant hum, rising and falling in waves as the crowd anticipates the start of the game.

The late afternoon sun casts a warm glow over the scene, the sky a clear blue with a slight breeze brushing against their faces, offering a bit of relief from the summer heat. With more than 20,000 fans filling the stands, the stadium feels alive, the collective excitement palpable in every cheer and chant that rises from the crowd.

Sangwoo takes his seat beside Gihun, the familiar hum of the stadium wrapping around him like static. Rows of fans stretch out in every direction, the noise a steady rise and fall,chants, clapping, the crackle of the PA system echoing from overhead.

He leans back, casting a glance toward the field, then nudges Gihun with his elbow.
“So,” he starts, casual but direct, “out of everyone this season,who’s the one to watch?”

Without waiting for an answer, he continues, “Park Kun-woo’s been showing real discipline at the plate. He’s consistent. Smart. Easily the most reliable bat in the lineup.”

Gihun scoffs with a grin. “Kun-woo’s solid, yeah. But Kim Kang-ryul’s my guy. He’s locked in this season, low ERA, sharp command. He’s carrying the mound every time.”

From Gihun’s other side, Jungbae leans forward with a chuckle. “You two and your obsession with starters,” he says. “Personally, I’m all in on Yang Eui-ji. Veteran catcher, sharp instincts, reads the game better than anyone out there.”

Sangwoo tilts his head, pretending to consider it. “He’s good. But he’s slowed this season.”

Jungbae shrugs. “Still clutch when it counts.”

Gihun gestures at him, half-laughing. “You’re just being sentimental because he’s your age.”

Jungbae shoots him a look. “And you’re one to talk? You’ve just got  a thing for pitchers.”

The words hang in the air as Sangwoo listens, saying nothing. He used to be the pitcher back in high school, years ago now, and it’s probably nothing, but there’s some hope in him that there’s a correlation between that fact and Jungbae’s comment.

Before he can sit too long in that thought, Gihun laughs, “you were a pitcher, Jungbae!”

“I know.” Jungbae comments throwing Gihun an exaggerated wink causing Gihun to laugh out loud.

Sangwoo forces himself to laugh along, feeling like an idiot for thinking Jungbae’s comment could have meant anything. His stomach twists for a moment, but he brushes it off, turning his attention back to atmosphere.A faint scent of freshly made popcorn teases his senses, along with the smell of other food lingering in the atmosphere.

That’s when Gihun stands up, “Hey, I’m going over to the snack stand. Do you guys want anything?” he asks, his voice cutting through the chatter.

Everyone immediately yells out their order, their voices over lapping each other. It’s a wonder how Gihun was able to catch all of that, let alone remember all of it. The older man is about to head to the snack stands when Sangwoo stands from his seat too.

“I can go with you, hyung.” Sangwoo offers. “So you’ll have some help carrying them back.”

Gihun smiles at Sangwoo and says, “Alright. Let’s go.” The two of them make their way toward the snack stand, moving through the crowded stadium aisle.

The two of them move toward the snack stand, their steps falling into an easy rhythm. The sounds of the stadium press in around them, the hum of the crowd rising and falling like a wave as they make their way through the narrow walkway.

Gihun glances at Sangwoo, a light smile tugging at his lips. “I’m really glad you could make it. Soyeon too. I hope you guys have fun.”

Sangwoo smiles back, a small, genuine gesture. “Thanks for the invite.”

Gihun looks ahead, his voice light with nostalgia. “Remember when we were kids and we’d watch a game on your TV?”

Sangwoo’s smile softens as he replies, “And we said that one day we’d watch a baseball game live.”

Gihun’s eyes brighten. “And we actually got to do it!”

Sangwoo teases, his tone casual, “I remember you being taller than me back then, though.”

Gihun laughs softly, rolling his eyes. “Oh, shut up.”

The easy back-and-forth hangs in the air for a moment as they approach the snack stand. Without another word, Gihun steps up to the counter and starts ordering the food for everyone. He’s quick, efficient, pointing at pretzels, churros, hot dogs, popcorn, fried squid, Bungeoppang, and a corndog. Drinks follow, each order sliding smoothly into place.

Once everything’s set, Gihun pulls out his wallet. Sangwoo, still hovering behind him, instinctively reaches for his own wallet, but before he can do anything, Gihun glances up, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t even think about it.”

Sangwoo lets out a quiet, amused breath, raising an eyebrow, but doesn’t argue. He slips his wallet back into his pocket and watches as Gihun takes care of everything.

The two head back to their seats after getting the snacks, with the voice in the PA system announcing that the game is about to start echoing in the background. By the time they’ve passed the snacks around and settled into their own seats, the players have already taken the field.

The excitement is already there from the very first inning. The crowd roars with anticipation, and the group is instantly drawn in. Jungbae yells with a mouthful of hotdog, eyes locked on the field. Gihun throws his arms up at a near miss, nearly losing his grip on his pretzel in the process.

Sangwoo, meanwhile, barely blinks. His pizza is barely touched as  his eyes track the ball with quiet focus.

The next couple of hours are a blur of fastballs, clean hits, and tense silences between pitches. The gang lives and breathes each moment, shouting, cheering, groaning in unison. By the time their snacks are gone and their drinks are long finished, the scoreboard is tight. Their team is just one homerun away from winning it all.

The final inning begins with a tense, electric air hanging over the stadium. Sangwoo sits on the edge of his seat, eyes locked onto the field.  All his attention is funneled into the diamond below, into the batter’s stance, the pitcher’s wind-up, the stillness before the storm.

Each swing feels like a held breath. Every crack of the bat that sends the ball foul earns a soft exhale from the crowd. And Sangwoo, he doesn’t dare move.

Then it happens.

The batter connects with the ball, and the crack echoes like lightning. The ball soars, high, far, fast, and for a suspended moment, the entire stadium rises in a wave of breathless silence.

Then the outfielders give up the chase. The ball disappears past the wall.

A home run.

The crowd explodes. But Sangwoo doesn’t hear it.

He doesn’t register Jungbae throwing both fists in the air. 

He doesn’t see Soyeon and Hyunju clasping their hands together, jumping up and down.

 He doesn’t catch Junhee’s arms wrapped around Daeho or Jiyeong bouncing in her seat. 

He doesn’t see Saebyeok cheeringly holding up the sign of their team while Junho films her on his phone camera. 

All he knows is joy, immediate and overwhelming. His chest bursts open with the thrill of the moment, and without a second thought, he pulls Gihun into a hug.

It’s instinct and pure, uninhibited exhilaration.

Gihun’s body is warm in his embrace, solid and real, and for a second, Sangwoo holds on just a little too tightly. His heart is racing from the adrenaline, from the feeling of closeness, from the weight of Gihun’s hand steadying him back, from the laugh he feels against Gihun’s shoulder.

The sudden realization of the crowd around him hits like a wave, crashing down on him all at once. Sangwoo’s breath falters as he pulls back from Gihun, blinking in surprise.

The stadium around him has come alive, the energy of the fans swelling and echoing, their hands raised in jubilation, their voices reaching a fever pitch. He hadn't even noticed how much attention they were drawing until now, how much he was drawing attention. The electric buzz of the crowd, the chants and shouts, the sheer energy of the moment slams into him, and suddenly he feels very out of place, hyper-aware of the heat in his face, the awkwardness that creeps in.

Sangwoo steals a quick glance at Gihun, who seems blissfully unaware of the sudden shift, still caught up in the excitement of the game and the win.

The game is over, but the feeling in his chest is still there.

When everything is settled, everyone moves to leave the stadium. Jungbae, still grinning from ear to ear, suggests grabbing drinks to celebrate. Without hesitation, everyone agrees, gathering their belongings as they prepare to leave the stadium together.

After the night out, Sangwoo finally gets home, the car ride is quiet as the buzz of the game still lingers in his mind. He’s tired, but there’s a warmth from the evening that stays with him. The alcohol, the laughter, the closeness he felt with Gihun, it’s a good kind of exhaustion.

When Sangwoo wakes up the next morning, it’s to the familiar sound of his mother bustling around in the kitchen. The sun is already up, and the room feels colder than it did last night, the remnants of sleepiness still clinging to him. Fortunately, it’s his day off, and he lets himself sink into the comfort of not having to rush. He stretches, letting out a groan, before making his way downstairs.

His mother is already at the table, setting down plates of breakfast with her usual care. “Come, come, sit. It’s getting cold,” she says, her voice light and welcoming as she hands him a bowl of soup.

Sangwoo smiles and slides into his chair, the mundane rhythm of breakfast with his mother grounding him. 

But then, in the midst of the quiet chatter Sangwoo’s phone buzzes from across the table. He picks it up without thinking, his thumb swiping across the screen. The notification flashes before him, and his stomach drops. A photo from last night,a candid shot of him and Gihun, caught in the middle of an unguarded moment, arms wrapped around each other in celebration.

The caption reads, “Even successful businessmen get caught up in the moment too.”

Sangwoo feels a rush of heat rise to his face. It’s an innocent picture, one that any stranger would glance at and think nothing of. Friends hug. It’s nothing more than that. But for him, the weight of the photo is heavy, the fear of someone seeing through the surface, of them knowing the truth, gnawing at him. The way his heart raced when he held Gihun, how much he wanted to stay in that moment. The photograph, innocent as it may seem, is a reminder that he’s still hiding, still trying to keep himself buried deep beneath the surface.

His fingers hover over the phone, but instead of scrolling further, he places it down, focusing on the now-familiar sight of his mother across from him. She doesn’t notice his hesitation, but her gaze is soft, an undercurrent of concern in her eyes.

“Are you okay, Sangwoo?” she asks, her voice gentle.

Sangwoo forces a smile, the practiced mask he wears slipping into place. “I’m fine,” he says quickly, even though the knot in his stomach says otherwise. He pushes the phone into his pocket, trying to shake off the unease that still lingers in his chest.

His mother seems satisfied, going back to her own meal, but Sangwoo feels the weight of the moment pressing on him.

A buzz from his phone again. He doesn’t need to check it to know it’s from Gihun. A simple text, no doubt, nothing significant, just another friendly message. But the thought of responding feels like too much. His fingers hover over the screen once more.

He doesn’t respond.