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Keeho recalls seeing her around four times this year already. A girl with long hair, long nails, and dark lipstick— Rin, he thinks she said her name was. A chronic fan-sign goer.

She was nice enough, if not a tad dry when she spoke with Keeho. Right now, she’s sitting just a little to the right of him, in the seat across from Jiung.

Keeho’s eyes catch on the interaction. Jiung leans forward a little as Rin talks, watching her with that eager, overly attentive look he gets in his eyes when he’s really trying to show that he’s listening.

Stupid, Keeho thinks fondly, biting back a smile.

Suddenly, Jiung perks up at something Rin says. “Oh, you meditate?” He asks, pleasantly surprised. Rin nods, and Jiung gasps, delighted. “Oh, wow! That’s so awesome!”

Rin smiles, obviously pleased with Jiung’s reaction. “Yeah, I just started a couple months ago. I honestly wish I’d picked up sooner— it really is just a great habit to get into.”

Jiung nods vigorously. “Absolutely. I really do love meditation— it’s helped me so much in just… living my life, you know?”

“I totally get it.” Rin tells him, emphatically. “Totally. It’s like… I’m always twisting myself in knots trying to control everything, right? But life will just keep sucking anyways, so why not just… sit with it, I guess.”

Now, to Keeho, that statement reads like a whole lot of nothing.

It isn't a concept he necessarily aligns with, just… sitting with the things he can't change. No, Keeho Yoon was a loudmouth, and he was quick to speak up when he saw something he didn’t like.

Jiung, however, nods again, eyes bright with understanding. “Absolutely. I’m entirely the same way.”

Rin glows at the response. Jiung turns away briefly to sign the album she’d handed him, but for a moment she just… keeps looking, utterly absorbed in him.

Her expression isn’t foreign to Keeho in the slightest— hell, he’s the fucking president of that expression— as well as the mayor, the city manager, and the Pope. Plus, a fan meet wasn’t a fan meet without a few lovesick wanderers here and there, and Jiung— with his small face and sad library girl aura— was a prime target for such yearning. Honestly, Keeho was beyond being upset about it at this point.

Or… so he thought.

The fan in front of Keeho says something, but his hearing seems to completely zero in on the conversation occurring beside him.

“What did you say your MBTI was?”

Jiung looks up at Rin again to answer. “INTJ. You?”

Rin gasps, and maybe it’s all in Keeho’s head, but he highly doubts that she didn’t already know that. “No way!” she exclaims, beatific. “I’m also INTJ!”

Keeho glances up. The fan in front of him is looking at him expectantly, head cocked to the side in vague confusion. Shit.

He shakes himself out of his stupor, gathering himself before offering her a sheepish smile. “Sorry— it’s really early. What were you saying?”

The fan waves off his apology quickly, telling him it’s alright. She asks him something about Canada, and Keeho really does try to respond the best he can. But now Rin is asking Jiung what his zodiac sign is, and honestly, Keeho’s Libra ass is starting to get a little sick of it.

“Libra.” Jiung tells her. “You?”

Rin nods. “That tracks. I’m a Gemini— that’s, like, the most compatible sign for Libras, by the way.”

Oh, come on.

Now, Keeho wasn’t exactly a jealous person. He really couldn’t afford to be, considering the nature of his relationship. Of course, Jiung had his fair share of passionate devotees, and Keeho had his. But a crowd was just that— a crowd. A crowd couldn’t toss its long, sleek hair over its shoulder. A thousand screaming fans couldn’t discuss meditation this way, or match someone’s personality so flawlessly, both psychologically and astrologically.

No, a crowd couldn’t do any of that for Jiung— and evidently, Keeho couldn’t either.

The thought unsettles something in his chest, restless and stupid with nerves.

The time runs out, and Keeho’s perhaps just a bit too eager to get the line moving, passing the fan in front of him’s stuff down with a smile and a rushed “see you next time!”.

He smiles at Rin when she takes the seat across from him, probably showing a few too many teeth. “Hey— Rin, right?”

“Mhm.” She hums, mild mannered to the fact that Keeho remembered her name. She’s still smiling to herself, obviously satisfied with the way her little chat with Jiung went.

Keeho bites his tongue, lowering his gaze to sign the album he was given. It’s unsettlingly quiet for a good while, as he’s sure even the most mundane sentence he could think up would come out egregiously— ‘So what are your hobbies? Flirting with my boyfriend?’

She doesn’t know, he keeps trying to tell himself, she doesn’t know, she doesn’t—

“So, Gemini, huh?” Keeho starts, trying to keep his tone as casual as possible. Rin blinks once, taken aback.

“Uh, yeah, I am.”

“That makes sense.” He tells her before he can stop himself. “You talk a lot different with Jiung than you do with me.”

Shut the fuck up, Keeho.

The girl pauses, eyebrows furrowing a bit. “Different?”

“Yeah.” Keeho says. “Like, cuter, kind of. I get it— he’s charming, don’t you think?”

He regrets it as soon as he says it— Rin turns a little pink, and it doesn’t feel nearly as good as Keeho was hoping.

Their time runs out again before much else can be said. Rin gathers her things with her head ducked slightly, and shit, Keeho wants to hide his face too, equally embarrassed by his own behavior.

“Yah!” Keeho hears someone exclaim off to the side. Jiung is frowning a little, seemingly having overheard that last bit of conversation. “Leave her be! I don’t nag any of your fans for their poor taste.”

Keeho only makes a face at him. “Mind your own business.” He tells Jiung before promptly turning around, face warm as the irony of the statement is not lost on him in the slightest.

The flow of fans ceases not too long after that. Jiung takes the opportunity to drag his chair over to Keeho’s, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards in mirth as he takes his seat.

“So what was that.” He asks, eyes gleaming.

Keeho groans, burying his face in his hands. “Shut up.”

Jiung cackles, all too entertained by Keeho’s suffering. “Oh my god, are you actually jealous?”

“No.” Keeho snaps. There’s a beat of silence, and he gives. “Okay, maybe a little— but that was inappropriate, right?”

Jiung snorts, raising a brow at that. “What was— the part where she asked me my MBTI, or when we were talking about meditation?”

“Okay, well,” Keeho huffs, face pink, “when you put it like that I just sound crazy.”

“You are crazy.” Jiung tells him plainly, but he’s still grinning like a fool, nonetheless.

Keeho pouts. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”

Jiung rolls his eyes. “It’s cute. Incredibly stupid, of course, but also kind of… endearing, I guess.”

“Mm, I’m just gonna ignore the stupid part of that statement.”

“You shouldn’t.” Jiung tells him flatly, but there’s no malice behind his voice. His arm shifts a little, like he’s about to reach out for Keeho before remembering where they are, settling instead for softly knocking their knees together under the table.

Eventually, their manager calls for Jiung, effectively leaving Keeho to his own devices. For a minute, he just fidgets in his seat, leg jumping restlessly before he takes his phone out of his pocket.

He opens his browser and types something into the search engine, pausing before hitting enter. Guiltily, he gnaws on his lip, placing his phone face down on the table. He sits for a moment. Then, he picks it back up.

This is stupid, he tells himself. The search loads, offering him a few different astrology blogs concerning zodiac compatibility.

He clicks on one of them, despite himself.

…

Keeho had complicated feelings about clubbing.

On one hand, hey— fuck it up.

On the other hand, he can’t help being a little shady about the fact that their group was still obscure enough in Korea to go out without much preamble.

However, he finds that he doesn’t care nearly as much about that right now as he watches Jongseob flop around on the dance floor.

Taeyang is wheezing like a lunatic, hunched over and gripping Intak’s shoulder for support— he’s decided to cut off alcohol recently, though you wouldn’t be able to tell from how red his face was. Shota’s practically been put to his knees by laughter, while Jiung’s at Keeho’s side, spasming delightedly through a fit of laughter.

The rest of them are a little more than buzzed at this point, if you can’t tell.

He has to step back to take a breather after a while, panting as he takes a seat at the bar. The music shifts into something a little more pop-rock, vaguely familiar in a way Keeho can’t quite put his finger on. It’s not exactly his type of music, but he doesn’t miss the way Jiung perks up next to him, suddenly excited.

“No way, I love this song!” Jiung exclaims, shooting up on his feet. He’s so pretty it hurts, haloed like this under the flashing lights of the club. His jeans sit a little lower on his hips than normal, drawing attention to the narrow slope of his waist. That, or Keeho was already looking there regardless. Either way, he swallows hard when Jiung turns to him, face bright in the dim lighting of the club, and offers his hand.

“Hey, dance with me?”

Now, one half of Keeho— the lower half, probably— immediately jumps at the offer. The other half, however, is completely beat from dancing already, and not all too enthused about the current song playing.

In the end, Keeho ends up shaking his head, mourning the visible sliver of skin between Jiung’s belt and the hem of his shirt. “One moment. I need to take a breather— you go though, yeah?”

Jiung’s gaze wanders reluctantly to the dance floor.  “You’re sure?” He asks, though Keeho can tell he means it more as a courtesy than anything, so clearly wanting to get out there.

Intak pops out of his seat, equally as anxious to get back on the dance floor.

“I’ll come too.” He chirps eagerly, and Keeho snorts lightly in amusement.

“Okay, then get out of my face— both of you.”

He doesn’t have to tell them twice— Intak practically skips back into the dense cluster of dancing people, arm looped around Jiung’s. Keeho watches them go off fondly before turning back to the others.

They stay at the bar for a bit, trading drinks and giggling at nothing. Despite the music changing a few times, Intak and Jiung remain out of eyesight for a good while. Keeho doesn’t give it much thought until he spots Intak sauntering up to the bar again, glowing with sweat under the dim lighting.

He practically throws himself over the bar, taking Keeho’s untouched glass of water and drinking it all at once before slamming it back on the counter, exhaling loudly and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks for asking first.” Keeho tells him dryly, though he doesn’t really mind all that much. Intak offers him a light apology before promptly collapsing in the seat next to him.

Jongseob snickers slightly at the other. “Have fun?”

Intak shakes his head faintly, eyes wide. “It is a dark, dark place out on that dance floor.”

“Where’s Jiung?” Shota asks. Intak only shrugs.

“I don’t know, probably still dancing.”

At that, Keeho can see the corners of Taeyang’s mouth curve down, just slightly. “You left him alone?”

Intak shakes his head immediately. “Of course not! He isn’t alone— I left him with that guy.”

Jongseob nearly chokes on his drink. “You WHAT?”

The squawk in his voice seems to alarm Intak. He replies cautiously, speaking a little slower than before, “I left him with this guy he was talking with.”

At the looks on the others’ faces, Intak rushes to defend himself, flustered. “Well, I don’t know! He seemed nice!”

“Give him a break guys.” Keeho chides lightly, taking another sip of his drink. “Jiung’s a big boy— he can handle himself, right?”

“Well, someone’s handling him alright.” Taeyang mumbles, eyes caught somewhere over Keeho’s shoulder, and Keeho turns around.

Through the space where the crowd parts slightly, he can see Jiung leaning back on a wall across the bar. He’s glistening with sweat; his dark hair tousled every which way. Just like Intak had said, he seems fully emersed in conversation with a guy who looks to be around their age. He’s tall, with sharp shoulders and dark hair that’s been buzzed short. He’s… really close to Jiung, to say the least, leaned in with his elbow propped up on the space near Jiung’s shoulder. He says something, gesturing loosely with his hand, and the sound of Jiung’s laugh carries across the bar.

“Oh.” Shota says. “He does look nice.”

“Yeah.” Intak hums. “I think it’s cause he’s into Jiung.”

“I think that was implied.” Jongseob deadpans, but his eyes skirt over to Keeho uncertainly, like he isn’t sure how the older will react.

But Keeho only scoffs into his drink, unbothered.

“Cute.” He mutters with a small smile.

Taeyang squints at him, suspicious. “You don’t care?”

Keeho shrugs in response. “Why would I? He can talk with Jiung all he wants.”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Intak interjects, nodding resolutely.

Jongseob raises a brow at that. “What, when you left our friend with a stranger?”

“Yep.” Intak chirps, distractedly trying to wave down the bartender. He catches the look on everyone’s face once again and huffs. “Come on guys— trust me, if Jiung was in any sort of danger, I would know. Besides, all they were talking about was this band they’re both into.”

Keeho pauses, glass still held to his lips.

Intak’s attention shifts toward the bartender in a second. “Hey, yeah, can I just get a—”

“What band?” Keeho asks suddenly. Intak blinks, taken aback.

“Uh, I don’t know. The one that was playing earlier— you know, when we left. Apparently they have the same favorite song, or something.” Intak shrugs, turning back to the bartender. “Anyway, yeah, a soju would be great.”

Keeho is unsettlingly quiet for a minute after that. There’s almost an audible creek as he slowly turns his head back to Jiung and the guy he’s talking to— specifically, Jiung and the guy he’s talking to because Keeho didn’t like the song that was playing earlier…

Suddenly, Keeho’s standing, ignoring his friends’ startled inquiries as he weaves through the crowd of people, eyes set on that spot across the club.

He’s able to catch the tail-end of Jiung’s conversation as he approaches. For some stupid, petty reason, Keeho pauses just out of sight from where he could be seen, ears straining over the music to listen.

“—but yeah, being on top like that was super cool.” The guy says, and Keeho blanches, sucking in a sharp inhale before the guy continues— “Gallery seats were definitely the move.”

Jiung nods again, a bit mildly. “Okay. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Oh, thank God. Keeho exhales, head rushing as he feels a bit of the color return to his face.

Maybe… maybe he was wrong— maybe he really didn’t have anything to worry about.

The guy grins, seemingly not taking Jiung’s lack of reaction to heart. Now that Keeho’s a little closer, it’s glaringly obvious how drunk the man is, especially as he rolls a little closer to Jiung, lolled head still pressed to the wall. “Hey— would you wanna dance with me?”

Nope! Scratch that! Keeho was never wrong and there were so many things to worry about!

“Oh,” Jiung says, looking slightly startled at the ask. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Oh shit,” the guy says, leaning back a bit, “My bad.”

Oh.

Well, that was easy.

The guy stumbles off not too long after that, shoulders a little slumped. Keeho watches him go, somehow feeling high-strung and cut loose at the same time.

Why had he even stumbled over here in the first place? What was he planning on doing? Snatching Jiung away from a conversation like some possessive lunatic? He hadn’t even cared when the man was obviously flirting with Jiung before, so why did he care now?

They have the same favorite song, Intak had said.

He’s so deep in thought, he doesn’t realize Jiung’s moved until Keeho looks up and he’s nowhere to be seen. His pulse jumps for a wild second, then straight-up skyrockets when he feels someone come up behind him, placing their hands on his shoulders.

Keeho flinches, letting out a high-pitched yelp before a familiar, crackling laugh breaks the air.

He scowls, turning around to meet Jiung’s wide, gummy smile. “Oh my god, can you not?”

Jiung snickers, making a show of pressing the heel of his palm to his ear and hissing, face screwed up though his grin persists.

“Oh, don’t even start— especially with that laugh of yours.” Keeho fires off, catching the other boy’s wrist and using it to drag him closer. As if to prove his point, he uses his other hand to poke Jiung in his side, successfully earning a shriek from him. He tries to squirm away, but Keeho doesn’t let him— looping his arms around Jiung’s torso to keep him close.

“See?” he says, smiling slyly. Jiung scoffs, but he stops squirming, resting his hands on Keeho’s chest and tilting his chin up.

“Whatever— you wish you had my range.”

“Mm,” Keeho hums, eyes hazily affectionate, “Shut the fuck up.”

He doesn’t let Jiung respond again, leaning forward to press their mouths together.

It’s risky kissing in public like this, no matter how unlikely they are to get caught here, but then a pleased sound spills from Jiung’s lips, and suddenly Keeho couldn’t care less.

They stay like that for a bit, just pressed together in the middle of the bar. Distantly, Keeho realizes that he’s practically clinging to the fabric of Jiung’s shirt, restlessness stirring in his chest.

Jiung must sense the change of atmosphere, because he pulls back, frowning slightly. “Hey, are you good?”

“Huh? Oh— yeah, uh—” Keeho pauses, clearing his throat like a liar would. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Jiung watches his face apprehensively, clearly not buying it. Belatedly, Keeho realizes he’s still gripping on to the back of his shirt, hurriedly letting go and bringing his hands forward to settle at Jiung’s hips. “Shit, sorry.”

Jiung only hums, pensive. “It’s alright.” He doesn’t say anything else for a moment, deep in thought, before suddenly speaking again. “Is this about that guy I was just talking to?”

“What guy?” Keeho responds a little too quickly. Well, shit.

Jiung looks at him, deadpan. “Keeho, you’ve been standing here and staring for, like, three minutes.”

“That’s not that long.” Keeho mumbles, petty.

“It’s a long time to be staring.” Jiung retorts, and— yeah, okay, Keeho’s gotta give him that.

Keeho groans, leaning forward to bury his face in Jiung’s shoulder in embarrassment. “God, I’m sorry, Jiung.”

Jiung huffs into Keeho’s hair, offense mild in his tone but searing, nonetheless. “You know nothing was gonna happen, right? I would never—”

Keeho cuts him off frantically, lifting his head to look Jiung in the eyes. “No, no, of course not. I know you wouldn’t, I just…” He struggles for words for a moment. He just what?

It’d only been a few months since he and Jiung decided to put a label on this… thing between them. It wasn’t an easy process, after all the fighting and dancing around each other they’d done over the past six years, but they were here now. Trying their best for each other.

Still, the whole ‘actually communicating’ thing is new to them both, and Keeho can’t help the words from getting caught in his throat sometimes

‘I felt threatened’ isn’t quite right. ‘I’m worried I’m not good enough for you’ isn’t really true, and ‘I’m afraid we aren’t a good match’ is just downright pathetic.

“I feel bad that some stranger had to ask you to dance because I wouldn’t.” is the truest thing he can muster, and even then it still feels like he’s only giving an inch out of the mile he thinks Jiung deserves, but Keeho doesn’t want to unpack that— not here. Not tonight.

It seems to be enough, though, because Jiung lowers his hackles a bit, gaze softening as he looks at Keeho. “It’s not that big of a deal.” he murmurs, though he sounds a little lost, like he doesn’t really know what to do with that.

Keeho looks down at the sliver of floor between them. “I know.” he admits, “I still feel bad, though.”

 “Make it up to me then.” Jiung replies quickly. Keeho startles a little at how sure he sounds all of a sudden, blinking up at the other.

“What?”

“Make it up to me.” Jiung repeats, eyes determined as he takes Keeho’s hands into his own, bringing them to the space between their bodies and gently running his thumb over Keeho’s knuckles. “You said you feel bad for not dancing with me earlier, right? Well— let’s go.”

For a moment, Keeho can only stand there and stare at him, lips slightly parted. Affection floods his chest so quickly, he nearly drowns in it.

The words are starting to get stuck again, but he doesn’t try as hard to force these ones out; something tells him Jiung already knows. Instead, he only squeezes Jiung’s hands a little tighter in his own, smiling so hard it hurts.

“Okay.” Keeho manages, quietly. “Let’s go.”

…

You know, for six guys that are practically together 24/7, it’s amazing just how hard it is to get them all in the same place outside of work.

Between Jongseob’s consistent inability to find a ride, Intak’s busy, extroverted ass, Taeyang’s general wish-washiness, Shota’s visa issues, and Jiung’s simply-not-wanting-to-go-out-ninety-nine-percent-of-the-time— let’s just say Keeho fought tooth and nail to get this hangout out of the group chat.

They wind up going to this nearby shopping center. Somehow, Jongseob ends up hauling around Taeyang’s shopping bags for him. Intak eats up most of their time trying on several outfits— most of which he doesn’t end up buying anyway. Shota hasn’t bought a single thing so far, having not yet found anything that catered to his… unique taste in clothing. Jiung also doesn’t walk out with much, seemingly only there to offer his critique on everyone else’s purchases.

He ends up being the designated waiting-outsider for most of their stops, offering to carry their drinks and shopping bags while they look around. Keeho thinks he must be a little drained at this point, using helpfulness as a front for him to take a breather.

He appreciates Jiung all the more for showing up today. Though Keeho would never admit it, just being here with the five of them— without any cameras or crowds— means more to him than he can really say.

They spend a good amount of time in one store, and Keeho even walks out with a bag himself, having found a thin pair of jeans he liked. Jiung is right at the entrance, holding Intak’s drink in one hand and a few of their bags in the other, just like they’d left him— except he isn’t alone anymore.

Now, Keeho’s seen more than a few good-looking people in his life— after all, practically everyone he knew was an idol or an influencer of some sort. Still, there was nothing that could have prepared him for the way his jaw dropped when he saw who Jiung was talking to.

She was… kind of gorgeous, to be honest— with thick brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders in effortless waves, and she was… currently laughing at something Jiung had said, lifting a graceful hand to place a light, touch on his shoulder.

Jiung, who usually cringes away from any sort of physical contact, only smiles at her, pleased with himself.

Intak oh-so eloquently voices Keeho’s thoughts exactly— “What the hell?”

It catches the pair’s attention. Jiung’s face splits into a grin, stepping to the side and waving them over enthusiastically. “Hey! Guys, meet Sohee,” he says, gesturing to her,

“We used to be friends, back in Anyang.”

Sohee smiles dazzlingly— looking genuinely happy to meet them all. “Annyeonghaseyo!” she chirps, adding a goddamn good bow for extra measure.

The five of them take turns greeting her in kind— Keeho perhaps bowing a little lower than he usually would as a defense mechanism.

Jiung beams watching the six of them. Once they’re finished with introductions, Intak asks: “Wait, so— were you guys, like, school friends or…?” he trails off suggestively, yelping when it earns him a slap and a glare from Jongseob.

If Sohee catches the implication, she doesn’t say anything about it, simply nodding her head. “Yep, school friends! We had theatre together.”

Jiung nods enthusiastically, looking to the others, “She’s a great singer.”

Sohee smiles, tilting her head down bashfully. Keeho actually thinks he feels one of his nerves burst.

“You wouldn’t believe the headaches this guy used to give me during rehearsals.” Sohee says, though her tone is playful, eyes sparkling when she looks at Jiung.

“Oh, we would believe it.” Intak tells her, earning himself another slap from Jiung.

Sohee giggles a bit at the interaction, her laugh ringing wind chimes. Jiung turns back to her— looking slightly sheepish. “So! Uh, what are you doing these days, Sohee?”

“Well,” Sohee starts, “I’m actually a nurse now.”

Fuck. It was worse than Keeho had feared.

“I actually just bought an apartment nearby— I was finally able to afford a nice one after, like, four years.”

“That’s… kind of a long time for a nurse.” Taeyang states, no filter whatsoever.

“Well, I donate a lot to charity.” Sohee explains, though not unkindly. “Like. A lot. Every year.”

“Ah,” Taeyang nods, effectively silenced “Got it.”

“That’s—” Keeho blurts, voice crack startling the others. He clears his throat and tries again, though it still comes out sounding extremely hoarse. “That’s so, so great of you.”

Sohee waves him off, shaking her head. “Oh, it’s the least I can do, really. Honestly, I wish I could do more. I volunteer as often as I can, but, well…” she sighs, forlorn “being a nurse can get a little hectic at times. Still, I always make sure to carve out some time during my weekends to visit my friends in the retirement home.”

“Oh, wow.” Jongseob murmurs, seeming a little lost for words.

“Oh!” Shota pipes up, as if suddenly realizing something important, turning to Jiung and gesturing between him and Sohee, “You, also…?”

He trails off, seemingly unsure of how to continue, but Sohee seems to get it more or less, turning to Jiung again with wide eyes. “You also volunteer?”

“Ah,” Jiung turns a little pink, bringing a hand to the back of his neck. “just at the animal shelter, a little bit.”

Sohee gasps, delighted. “Oh my god, that is so cute.”

“So cute.” Keeho grits out through a smile stretched too wide, eye twitching. This time Jiung seems to notice, fixing Keeho with an odd look out of the corner of his eye.

Sohee also seems to catch on to some degree. Her gaze flickers between Keeho and Jiung, expression still fixed pleasantly as she speaks again.

“Well, I better get going!” She announces suddenly, clasping her hands together and giving one more bow. “Nice to meet you all— and it was great seeing you again, Jiung, seriously.” Sohee adds, placing a hand on his arm. “Keep in touch, alright?”

She turns to give the rest of them one last smile, nodding her head as they offer their goodbyes:

“It was nice meeting you!”

“Enjoy your new apartment!”

“Sorry about Intak!”

“Have fun at the retirement home!” Shota pipes up, waving enthusiastically. Sohee grins, positively charmed.

“Thanks! I will!” She says cheerfully, before finally turning on her heel and heading off, practically skipping away.

Keeho watches her go, something like shame bubbling low in his stomach.

Sohee wouldn’t think of him after this— her skin wouldn’t crawl at the memory of his smile, nor would she fume at the thought of his laugh. Of course she wouldn’t— she and Keeho didn’t even know each other. Besides, what kind of offense had she even committed— donating to charity? Was Keeho really that insecure?

Despite himself, Keeho begins to think of meditation. Of zodiac signs and MBTIs. He thinks of band music— then of school plays, and volunteer work, and Anyang.

A small footnote in the list of things he didn’t share with Jiung.

In that moment, Keeho knows it isn’t quite insecurity that gnaws at him from the inside. There’s a different ache beneath the initial bite of jealousy— something he doesn’t quite know what to do with.

He watches Sohee go, and wonders, bitterly, if she even likes to journal as well.

…

There’s a knock on Keeho’s bedroom door that night. He promptly ignores it in favor of scrolling on his phone, assuming it’s either Intak or Shota. The knock comes again after a few moments, a little louder and more rapid. Pestering and impatient in a way neither Intak nor Shota are.

Keeho knows it’s Jiung before he even opens the door.

He’s certainly dressed for this time of night, donning a pair of grey sweats and a loose, long-sleeved tee. His hair is tousled a bit wildly, like he tried to fall asleep earlier before deciding to come here instead.

Keeho opens his mouth to say something. Jiung beats him to it, of course.

“Do you not trust me, or something?”

Keeho blinks. For a moment, he can only stare at the other boy, dumbfounded.

“What? No, that’s not—” Keeho reels back, appalled. “What?”

“Well, I don’t know!” Jiung bursts, exasperatedly throwing up his arms. Still, he keeps the volume to a minimum, all too aware of Shota and Intak in their own rooms down the hall. “What else am I supposed to think, Keeho? You act like I’ll just— just up and leave you for the first person who shows any interest in me.” His face goes a little red as he speaks, and Keeho realizes, with a start, that this is the most upset he’s seen Jiung in a while.

“Do you really think so little of me?”

Horrified, Keeho rushes to fix it. “No, of course not! I don’t think— that’s not it at all!”

“Well then what is it?” Jiung pushes, eyebrows knitted together.

“Wh—” Keeho stutters for a moment. Caught off guard like this, it’s easy to fall back into old habits. Despite himself, he snaps. “Well shit, one of us might as well do something when someone is blatantly flirting with you, because God knows you won’t.”

“Blatantly flirting?” Jiung repeats, livid, “Keeho, a fan asked me what my zodiac sign was. A guy at a bar told me he liked the same band as me, and when he asked me to dance I told him no.”

“So, what, it just magically doesn’t mean anything if you don’t notice?” Keeho demands.

“Yes!” Jiung bursts, frustrated.

“Well, it means something to me!”

“It shouldn’t! Keeho, they’re strangers.”

“But they like you!”

“Well, God, Keeho, you aren’t the only one who does!” Jiung snaps, something like hurt mixing in with the anger in his tone. “Contrary to what you might think, there are people besides you can find it in themselves to like me.”

Keeho lets out a frustrated growl, running his hands into his hair. “Would you stop? I never said that— and I never said that I didn’t trust you either, I just—”

“What?” Jiung pushes, “You just what?”

Annoyed, Keeho drops his hands to his sides, opening his mouth to tell Jiung off again— to tell him to stop pestering, to stop pushing, to stop acting like— like—…

The expression on Jiung’s face is searing. His cheeks are red. His eyes are narrowed. His jaw is set so severely that Keeho worries for his teeth— but there’s something else there too. It’s set in the hunch of his shoulders, in the way he holds his arms around himself. He looks tired and nervous, but still— before anything else, Jiung’s angry. He’s frustrating, and sad, and too high-strung for his own good, and— and—

And… still, he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to Keeho.

And Keeho…

Keeho doesn’t fit with him.

The thought drains all the fight out of him. The words come out all wrong when he speaks, but they come out nonetheless, more helpless than he’d anticipated as his shoulders slump around them.

“I’m afraid we aren’t a good match for each other.”

Keeho realizes how bad it sounds when Jiung goes frighteningly pale, features slacking, and he rushes to correct himself. “This isn’t— I’m not, like, ending it or anything, I just…” He grapples at the words again, “I… I can’t shake this feeling that… that I keep letting you down.”

It’s silent for a beat. Jiung still looks slightly dizzy when he speaks again. “…letting me down?”

Keeho takes a breath, bracing himself. “Jiung, I don’t… I don’t meditate.” He emphasizes, miserable.

Jiung knits his brows, taken aback. “Um… yeah, you… you don’t…?”

“I don’t meditate, and I don’t listen to the same bands you do.” Keeho continues, pushing forward.  “I didn’t grow up where you did, and I’ve never saved a family of baby ducks.”

Jiung looks at him funny for that last one. “What?”

Keeho wilts, face pink as he stares down at the floor. “I might’ve checked Sohee’s insta earlier. She is… so cool, actually.”

“Ah.”

“But that’s not the point! The point is that I—” he closes his mouth. Tries again. “I love you, Jiung. So much. And I want you to be happy with someone that suits you, which you can’t be because—” he lets out a humorless breath of laughter. “Well. You’re with me.”

For a moment, Jiung doesn’t say… anything. Keeho keeps his gaze fixed on his feet, hands stuttering at his sides.

The moment stretches on for ages.

Eventually, Jiung heaves out a sigh, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “I don’t… like being touched.”

It catches Keeho so off guard that he doesn’t react for a moment. He looks up at the other boy, face blank. “What.”

Jiung isn’t quite looking at Keeho— rather, squinting thoughtfully at the space over his head, sucking in a deep inhale before starting again.

“I don’t like being touched, and I don’t listen to Billie Eilish.”

He continues, “I didn’t grow up where you did, and I’ve… also.. never saved family of baby ducks.”

He finally lowers his eyes, meeting Keeho’s dumbfounded gaze, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards, just slightly. “I’m frustrating, and sad, and too high-strung— and somehow, despite it all… you still love me.”

Keeho feels something stutter in his chest. For almost a minute, he can only stare in disbelief at the boy in front of him, and the impossible, affectionate look he’s receiving from him. He must take too long, because Jiung starts talking again, taking Keeho’s hands and clasping them between his own for good measure.

He looks into Keeho’s eyes as he speaks, like he’s trying to make sure every word gets through to him. “Keeho, you saw me at my absolute worst. You know that right? When I was struggling and would refuse to let anyone in, you stayed. You showed up for me when I didn’t even want to show up for myself. Keeho, you’ve done so much more for me than I could have ever asked for. And you—” he squeezes Keeho’s hands, just a little tighter,

“You could never let me down. Ever.” Jiung tells him, brown eyes shining, and Keeho swallows hard.

His voice is hoarse when he speaks. “It feels like I kind of just did, honestly.”

“Oh, not even close.” Jiung tells him earnestly. “Honestly, I was more scared that I was the one letting you down.”

Keeho starts a little, surprised. “What?”

Jiung pauses, not meeting his gaze again. “I know I’m not… the most affectionate person ever— verbally, I mean. And also, physically. But mostly verbally. But also a lot physically.”

“Mhm.” Keeho responds slowly, brows knitted and lips pressed together in a frown.

“I was worried that I’d made you doubt it somehow, is what I mean to say.” Jiung resolves. “That I wasn’t… showing you well enough, and that’s why you kept getting so… defensive.”

“Ah.”

“But it— it matters to me that you know I love you, and that I…” He clears his throat once, looking up at Keeho again, face flushed for a different reason, “I don’t want to be happy with anyone that suits me— I just want to be happy with you.”

Keeho’s breath catches in his chest. He feels his pulse thrum so viciously beneath his fingertips that he’s certain Jiung can feel it too.

It’s unfair, he thinks, for any one person to make him feel this much.

“You know,” Keeho says, quietly so his voice doesn’t break again “For someone who doesn’t express their feelings a lot, you’re really good at it.”

Jiung giggles a little at that, smile blinding. A wave of affection hits Keeho so hard he almost loses his balance. “Come here,” he mumbles softly, pulling his hands out of Jiung’s hold so he can cradle the other boy’s face between his palms.

Gently, he pulls Jiung closer, until Keeho’s able to press their lips together.

Dazedly, Keeho can’t help but think about just how wrong Jiung was about not being able to show his love, because he feels it so strongly every time they kiss.

Jiung kisses him slowly, if not a little shyly, and so, so reverently that Keeho hardly knows what to do with it. In the end, it’s all he can do to press forward more, part his lips against Jiung’s, and hope that he’s able to make him understand the best he can.

They stay like that for a while, kissing languidly in the doorframe of Keeho’s bedroom. They part for just one moment, their breaths mingling as Keeho rests their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.” He sighs, because it’s worth saying, and because it’s the easiest substitute for ‘I love you’ he can think of.

Jiung doesn’t accept it— not really. Instead, he just leans in for another kiss, crowding them back into Keeho’s bedroom and murmuring against his lips. “Make it up to me.”

…

“So,” Shota starts over breakfast the next morning. “You and Jiung-hyung… made up? Last night?”

Keeho blanches. “You heard that?”

“Heard what?” Intak asks, mouth still full of food.

“They had a fight.” Shota explains, and Intak grunts, shaking his head.

“Say no more.”

Keeho flushes, squirming in his seat. “We thought you guys were asleep.”

“You were pretty loud.” Shota remarks. Keeho gapes, mortified, noting the use of ‘you’ instead of ‘you two’.

Shota turns to Intak, tilting his head. “You really didn’t hear?”

Intak just snorts, making sure to shovel in another mouthful of food before speaking again. “Please. I shared a room with them when they practically wanted each other dead. Trust me— I’ve slept through way worse things than sex.”