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By the time Jungsu realized that bringing Gaon to an aquarium had been a mistake, they had been inside for exactly twelve minutes.
Not because the aquarium was bad.
The aquarium was beautiful.
The lights were low enough to make the enormous tanks glow like pieces of another world, deep shades of blue moving over the walls and ceiling. Everything outside the glass felt distant here. Schools of silver fish turned together beneath the water, their bodies catching the light like tiny pieces of metal. Somewhere nearby, water rushed quietly through a filter, mixing with the low murmur of conversations.
It should have been peaceful.
Romantic, even.
Unfortunately, Jungsu had brought Gaon.
“I’m telling you, he’s following me,” Gaon said, lowering his voice into a conspiratorial whisper as though the tiny creature on the other side of the glass might understand him and take offense.
Jungsu reluctantly tore his attention away from the coral reef he had been admiring. “Who exactly is following you?” he asked, already suspicious of whatever answer Gaon was about to give him.
Gaon pointed toward the tank without taking his eyes off his alleged stalker. “Him. The yellow one,” he explained with complete seriousness, leaning a little closer to the glass. “He’s been watching me since we walked over here.”
Jungsu followed the direction of his finger and found a tiny yellow fish hovering almost motionlessly between two pieces of coral. “You mean the fish?” he asked after a moment, turning back toward Gaon with an expression that made it very clear he was already questioning his life choices.
“Yes, Jungsu. The fish,” Gaon replied impatiently, as if Jungsu were somehow the unreasonable one in this conversation.
“He’s not following you. He’s swimming,” Jungsu pointed out, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket.
“No, watch,” Gaon insisted, lifting one finger before deliberately taking two steps to the left.
The fish moved in the same direction.
Gaon whipped around so quickly that his hair fell into his eyes. “See? I told you!” he exclaimed, pointing triumphantly at the fish like he had just presented irrefutable evidence in court. “He moved exactly when I moved.”
Jungsu stared at him for several seconds before slowly exhaling. “Oh my God,” he muttered, although the tiny smile threatening the corner of his mouth betrayed how entertained he actually was.
“I told you!” Gaon repeated, completely misunderstanding Jungsu’s reaction as validation.
“No, I’m saying ‘oh my God’ because I can’t believe I’m spending my Saturday watching my boyfriend establish a personal relationship with a tropical fish,” Jungsu explained, finally giving up on hiding his amusement.
Gaon’s mouth fell open in exaggerated offense. “A personal relationship? He’s clearly the one obsessed with me,” he argued, pressing one hand dramatically against his chest. “I’m the victim here.”
“Sure you are,” Jungsu replied, giving him a look that suggested he believed absolutely none of it.
“He is!” Gaon insisted, following Jungsu when he began moving toward the next tank.
Jungsu glanced over his shoulder at him. “Should I give you two some privacy?” he asked, unable to resist teasing him one last time.
Gaon narrowed his eyes before hurrying forward until he was walking beside him again. “You’re jealous,” he decided, bumping his shoulder deliberately against Jungsu’s.
Jungsu stopped walking.
Slowly, he turned his head toward him.
“Of a fish?” Jungsu asked, his eyebrows lifting in genuine disbelief.
“He gave me more attention in thirty seconds than you have since we got here,” Gaon complained, although the smile pulling at his lips made it impossible to take the accusation seriously.
“I bought you the ticket,” Jungsu reminded him, beginning to walk again.
“Money can’t buy affection,” Gaon replied immediately, following at his side.
“I bought you coffee too,” Jungsu added without looking at him.
That made Gaon pause.
He seemed to genuinely consider it for a second before nodding to himself. “Okay. That bought a little affection,” he admitted, sounding almost reluctant about it.
Jungsu finally broke.
A laugh escaped him, quiet at first, and Gaon’s face immediately lit up with the satisfaction of someone who had accomplished exactly what he wanted.
And that, really, was the problem.
Gaon knew exactly how to get him.
He could annoy Jungsu for twenty minutes straight, poke at every little thing he knew would get a reaction, say the most ridiculous sentence imaginable with a completely serious expression—and somehow Jungsu would still end up laughing.
It had always been like that between them.
Gaon was noise where Jungsu was quiet.
Movement where Jungsu preferred stillness.
Gaon said whatever appeared in his head and dealt with the consequences afterward. Jungsu usually thought about the consequences before deciding whether something deserved to be said at all.
Somehow, instead of pushing them apart, those differences seemed to pull them closer.
Gaon walked ahead toward the next exhibition, his hands disappearing into the oversized sleeves of his jacket as something in the next tank immediately caught his attention.
Jungsu slowed behind him.
The blue aquarium light moved softly across the back of Gaon’s neck, catching against the strands of dark hair that had been left slightly messy by the wind outside. Gaon had complained about it for approximately thirty seconds before deciding he couldn’t be bothered fixing it.
Jungsu liked it like that.
Actually, he liked Gaon like that.
Unpolished.
Comfortable.
A little ridiculous.
His.
The thought arrived so naturally that Jungsu almost smiled.
“Are you coming, or are you planning to stand there staring at me for the rest of our date?” Gaon suddenly called, turning around and beginning to walk backward so he could face him.
Jungsu’s expression changed immediately. “I wasn’t staring at you,” he replied, quickening his pace as if that somehow made his denial more believable.
Gaon’s eyebrows rose. “You absolutely were,” he said, the grin slowly returning to his face. “You’ve been standing there looking at me for at least ten seconds.”
“You have a very inflated sense of importance,” Jungsu muttered, refusing to give him the satisfaction of making eye contact.
Gaon continued walking backward in front of him. “You like looking at me,” he said, stretching the words out in that irritatingly pleased tone Jungsu knew far too well.
“Watch where you’re going,” Jungsu warned him, noticing the wall approaching behind Gaon.
“That isn’t a denial,” Gaon pointed out, still walking.
“Gaon,” Jungsu said, trying very hard not to smile.
“You think I’m pretty,” Gaon continued confidently.
“There’s a wall behind you,” Jungsu replied.
Gaon’s eyes widened.
He spun around just before walking directly into it.
For a moment, he simply stood there.
Jungsu stopped a few steps away, one eyebrow raised.
Gaon looked at the wall.
Then at Jungsu.
Then back at the wall.
“…I knew that,” Gaon finally said, straightening his jacket as though nothing had happened.
“Of course you did,” Jungsu replied, his voice painfully dry.
“I was testing you,” Gaon explained, recovering remarkably quickly from his near collision.
“Obviously,” Jungsu said, nodding along with mock seriousness.
“To see if you’d protect me,” Gaon continued, pointing at him as if this had genuinely been the plan all along.
Jungsu crossed his arms. “And?”
Gaon’s expression immediately softened into a satisfied smile. “You passed.”
Jungsu stared at him for another second before shaking his head and walking past. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered, but there was far too much affection hidden beneath the words for the insult to mean anything.
Gaon knew it too.
“I know,” he answered cheerfully as he hurried after him.
A second later, their shoulders bumped.
Gaon didn’t move away.
Neither did Jungsu.
And when Gaon’s fingers casually brushed against his a few steps later, Jungsu quietly turned his hand until their fingers slipped together.
Gaon looked down at their joined hands.
Then up at Jungsu.
His smile became smaller.
Softer.
Jungsu squeezed his hand once.
Gaon squeezed back.
For approximately three seconds, it was a perfectly romantic moment.
Then Gaon glanced down again.
“Your hand is kind of sweaty,” he observed, looking far too pleased with himself.
Jungsu immediately let go of him.
“Okay. Date’s over,” he announced, continuing to walk without him.
Gaon’s laughter followed him all the way into the next exhibition.
The underwater tunnel was the first place that managed to shut Gaon up.
For approximately thirty seconds.
Jungsu considered it one of the aquarium’s greatest achievements.
The tunnel stretched ahead of them beneath thousands of liters of water. Blue light spilled across the floor and moved over their faces in rippling patterns. Fish drifted overhead in enormous schools, shadows passing over them whenever something larger swam by.
Gaon stopped beneath the glass.
“Okay,” he breathed, his usual teasing tone disappearing completely. “This is actually insane.”
Jungsu smiled when he heard the genuine wonder in his voice. “You sound surprised,” he said, glancing at him instead of the water.
“I knew it would be cool,” Gaon replied, tilting his head back as a ray moved over them. “I just didn’t know it would look like this. Look at that thing. It literally looks like it’s flying.”
“I am looking,” Jungsu answered.
Except he wasn’t anymore.
He was looking at Gaon.
The excitement had softened his features. His lips were parted slightly as he stared upward, and every few seconds another ripple of blue moved across his face.
Jungsu knew he should probably look away.
He didn’t.
Maybe he stared a second too long.
Because eventually Gaon’s eyes lowered.
Straight to him.
For a moment, neither said anything.
Then Gaon’s mouth curved.
“You’re doing it again,” he said, his voice quieter now, his expression carrying that familiar mix of amusement and knowing.
Jungsu knew exactly what he meant. “Doing what?” he asked anyway, feigning ignorance.
“That thing where you stare at me and then pretend you weren’t staring at me when I catch you,” Gaon said, turning his body slightly so he was facing him more directly.
“Very descriptive,” Jungsu replied, refusing to give him the reaction he clearly wanted.
“There’s literally something objectively more interesting above your head right now, and you’re still looking at me,” Gaon continued, his eyes narrowing playfully.
Jungsu glanced upward.
A shark was slowly approaching.
“That’s debatable,” he said.
Gaon’s eyebrows rose. “Are you saying I’m more interesting than a shark?”
“I didn’t say that,” Jungsu replied, but the hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth made the denial unconvincing.
“You implied it.”
“I absolutely didn’t.”
Gaon moved closer.
Jungsu noticed immediately.
There had been a respectable amount of space between them a moment ago.
Now there wasn’t.
“So,” Gaon continued, his voice lowering as he looked at him expectantly, “who’s prettier?”
Jungsu looked at him.
Then deliberately looked at the shark.
Gaon stared at him in disbelief.
“You did not just compare us,” he said, sounding genuinely offended now.
“You asked me to,” Jungsu reminded him, folding his arms loosely across his chest.
“I expected an immediate answer!” Gaon protested, stepping even closer as though proximity would help his argument.
“The shark has excellent bone structure,” Jungsu said, glancing upward with exaggerated seriousness.
“Kim Jungsu.”
“And very clear skin.”
“I’m breaking up with you,” Gaon announced, crossing his arms.
Jungsu laughed. “You’re breaking up with me inside an aquarium?”
“Yes,” Gaon replied without hesitation.
“That’s inconvenient.”
“I’m serious.”
“No, you’re not.”
“How do you know?” Gaon asked, but his smile was already betraying him.
Because he was still there.
Because his fingers had found the cuff of Jungsu’s sleeve.
Because instead of walking away, he’d moved even closer.
Jungsu looked down at the hand loosely holding onto him.
Then back up.
Something shifted.
It wasn’t dramatic. There was no sudden silence around them, no miraculous disappearance of everyone else inside the tunnel.
But Jungsu became intensely aware of the small distance between them.
Gaon seemed to notice it too.
His teasing smile faded at the edges.
Jungsu’s gaze dropped briefly.
Gaon’s lips.
Back to his eyes.
Gaon caught it.
Of course he did.
“You know,” Gaon murmured, his voice suddenly much softer than before, “if you’re trying to distract me from the shark thing, you’re going to have to do better than that.”
Jungsu’s heart gave an irritating little jump. “Than what?” he asked, although he already knew.
Gaon’s eyes flickered downward.
“Looking,” he answered.
The word hung between them.
Jungsu stepped closer.
Gaon didn’t move.
Now there were only inches separating them.
Jungsu could see the tiny change in Gaon’s breathing, the way his expression had gone quieter even though his eyes still held that familiar challenge.
“You talk too much,” Jungsu whispered, his voice dropping without him meaning it to.
Gaon’s mouth twitched. “You like it,” he replied, almost immediately.
“Sometimes.”
“Most of the time.”
“Don’t push it.”
“Or what?” Gaon asked, the words barely above a whisper now.
There it was.
That challenge.
Gaon knew exactly what he was doing.
Jungsu lifted his hand and caught Gaon lightly by the jaw.
The smugness vanished from Gaon’s expression almost immediately.
That alone made Jungsu want to smile.
His thumb rested just beneath Gaon’s cheek, and for a second he simply held him there.
Close.
Waiting.
Giving Gaon every opportunity to turn it into another joke.
Gaon didn’t.
Instead, his fingers tightened slightly around Jungsu’s sleeve.
Jungsu leaned in.
Their noses brushed first.
Gaon’s eyes fell closed.
Then Jungsu kissed him.
It started soft.
A slow press of lips that lasted longer than the quick kisses they’d exchanged earlier that morning. Gaon’s lips were warm against his, and for a moment Jungsu forgot about the people walking around them, the aquarium, the shark still passing somewhere above their heads.
Gaon’s hand left his sleeve and settled against the front of Jungsu’s jacket, fingers curling slightly into the fabric.
Jungsu pulled back only a little.
Barely enough for their lips to separate.
Gaon’s eyes opened.
Neither of them moved very far.
“You forgot the argument,” Jungsu murmured, his thumb still resting against Gaon’s cheek.
Gaon breathed out a tiny laugh, the sound warm against Jungsu’s mouth. “No, I didn’t,” he replied, though the slight daze in his expression suggested otherwise.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Then what were you saying?” Jungsu asked, tilting his head just enough to make the challenge clear.
Gaon stared at him.
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Jungsu smiled.
“Thought so.”
“Oh, shut up,” Gaon muttered, his eyes narrowing before he suddenly caught Jungsu by the front of his jacket.
Then he kissed him again.
Jungsu hadn’t expected the suddenness of it.
His back bumped softly against the curved railing behind him as Gaon stepped into his space, still holding his jacket.
The kiss was warmer this time, lingering rather than hurried.
Jungsu’s surprise disappeared quickly.
His hand found Gaon’s waist.
He drew him closer.
Gaon’s fingers relaxed against his chest, flattening over the fabric as the kiss softened again. Jungsu tilted his head slightly, letting it deepen naturally, enjoying the way Gaon’s usual restless energy seemed to disappear whenever they kissed like this.
For all the talking Gaon did, he became strangely focused when he kissed him.
Quiet.
Intent.
Jungsu could feel every small reaction—the way Gaon’s grip tightened for half a second when Jungsu pulled him closer, the way he breathed in softly through his nose when Jungsu’s thumb brushed along his jaw, the way he leaned into him instead of away.
There was something almost unfair about the contrast.
Gaon could spend twenty minutes arguing with a fish and then kiss him like this—as if Jungsu were the only thing in the entire aquarium worth paying attention to.
When they finally separated, Gaon stayed close enough that Jungsu could feel his breath.
The shark passed silently above them.
Neither noticed.
Gaon’s cheeks were pink.
Jungsu’s probably weren’t much better.
Gaon swallowed.
Then, very quietly, he said, “I still think I’m prettier than the shark.”
Jungsu stared at him.
The tension broke instantly.
A laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
“You’re unbelievable,” he said, shaking his head while his hand remained at Gaon’s waist.
Gaon grinned, clearly pleased with himself. “But am I?”
Jungsu caught the back of his neck and pulled him in for one more quick kiss.
“Yes,” he murmured against his lips.
Gaon’s smile pressed into the kiss.
By the time they reached the jellyfish room, they had returned to normal.
Or as normal as the two of them ever were.
The room itself was beautiful enough that even Jungsu slowed down the moment they entered.
It was darker here, almost black except for enormous tanks illuminated from within. Blue and violet light filled the water, making the jellyfish glow as they floated through it.
Gaon walked beside him.
For once, he didn’t immediately say anything.
Jungsu glanced over.
“Are you okay?” he asked, studying him with exaggerated concern.
Gaon looked offended. “Why?”
“You’ve been quiet for almost a minute,” Jungsu explained, lifting his eyebrows as though that alone was alarming.
“I can be quiet,” Gaon replied, crossing his arms.
“I’ve never seen evidence of that.”
“I was appreciating the atmosphere,” Gaon said defensively, turning back toward the tank.
“Sorry. Continue,” Jungsu replied, giving him an apologetic little nod.
Gaon narrowed his eyes at him before facing the jellyfish again.
Ten seconds passed.
Then he leaned slightly toward Jungsu.
“Do you think jellyfish know they’re jellyfish?” he asked, sounding genuinely curious.
Jungsu closed his eyes.
Gaon looked at him. “What?”
“I believed in you,” Jungsu said with visible disappointment.
“That’s your mistake,” Gaon replied immediately.
Jungsu started laughing.
Gaon smiled, clearly pleased with himself.
They eventually found a bench tucked away in a darker corner of the exhibition.
Jungsu sat down first.
Gaon joined him.
There was plenty of room.
Gaon chose none of it.
Instead, he sat directly beside Jungsu until their thighs touched.
Jungsu glanced pointedly at the entire empty half of the bench. “You know you have options, right? There’s enough space here for about four more people.”
“I chose my option,” Gaon replied, making absolutely no effort to move.
“You’re practically sitting on me,” Jungsu pointed out, turning to look at him.
Gaon met his eyes and smiled innocently. “Would you prefer that?”
Jungsu slowly turned his head.
Gaon blinked.
“Don’t,” Jungsu warned him.
“I didn’t say anything,” Gaon protested.
“You were going to.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know you.”
Gaon’s smile softened slightly. “That was kind of romantic,” he said, leaning a little closer.
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
“Still counts.”
Before Jungsu could argue, Gaon leaned into his side.
Jungsu sighed dramatically but lifted his arm anyway.
Gaon immediately tucked himself underneath it, fitting against him with the kind of familiarity that made Jungsu’s chest feel warm.
That was the thing.
They could joke about everything.
But affection between them had become instinctive.
Jungsu’s fingers began moving slowly through Gaon’s hair.
Gaon relaxed against him.
For a while, they simply watched the jellyfish.
The silence wasn’t awkward.
It never was with Gaon.
Eventually Gaon slid lower.
And lower.
Until his head landed in Jungsu’s lap.
Jungsu looked down.
“Seriously?” he asked, although there wasn’t much annoyance in his voice.
Gaon looked up at him. “You have a lap. I’m using it,” he said, as though the logic was obvious.
“That isn’t how ownership works.”
“It’s how boyfriends work.”
“According to who?”
“Me.”
“Convenient.”
“Very.”
Jungsu shook his head.
But his fingers returned to Gaon’s hair.
He brushed it away from his forehead, lightly scratching his scalp every now and then.
Gaon’s eyes slowly closed.
His entire face relaxed.
Jungsu watched him.
Something warm settled inside his chest.
It happened often when Gaon wasn’t paying attention.
Jungsu would catch himself looking at him and suddenly feel overwhelmed by the simplest realization.
That’s my person.
The person who annoyed him.
The person who stole his food.
The person who sent him messages at three in the morning because he’d found a funny video.
The person whose hand he looked for automatically now.
Jungsu’s fingers slowed.
Gaon’s eyes opened.
“What?” Gaon asked softly, blinking up at him.
Jungsu shook his head. “Nothing.”
“You’re doing the face.”
“What face?”
“The soft one,” Gaon answered, the corners of his mouth lifting.
“I don’t have a soft face.”
“You do with me.”
Jungsu’s heart stumbled.
Gaon smiled.
Not teasing this time.
Just warm.
Jungsu traced his thumb lightly across Gaon’s temple. “You notice too much,” he murmured, his voice quieter now.
“Only when it’s you,” Gaon replied.
For once, Jungsu didn’t have an answer.
Gaon reached up.
His fingers curled gently around Jungsu’s wrist.
Then he pulled.
Not hard.
Just enough.
Jungsu leaned down.
The kiss came naturally.
Slower than the ones in the tunnel.
Gaon was still lying across his lap, one hand resting against Jungsu’s wrist while Jungsu bent over him.
Their lips met softly.
Separated.
Met again.
The second kiss lingered.
Jungsu’s fingers slipped into Gaon’s hair, supporting the back of his head as Gaon’s hand moved to his shoulder.
This time neither of them seemed particularly interested in pulling away.
Jungsu kissed him slowly, letting the moment stretch out between them. The angle was awkward, but there was something strangely intimate about it too—Gaon looking up at him from his lap, Jungsu bent over him beneath the blue glow of the tank.
Gaon’s fingers slid from his shoulder to the back of his neck.
Jungsu felt the gentle pressure there, encouraging him closer.
He obliged.
Their lips met again.
A little deeper this time.
A little less careful.
Jungsu’s thumb brushed along Gaon’s cheek while Gaon’s fingers tangled briefly into the hair at the back of his neck.
The kiss became warmer in small increments, never rushed, just one slow shift after another.
Gaon tilted his head slightly.
Jungsu followed the movement instinctively.
Their noses brushed.
Gaon breathed a quiet laugh into the kiss, but he didn’t pull away.
Instead, his hand tightened gently at the back of Jungsu’s neck and brought him closer again.
Jungsu could feel his own pulse picking up now.
He kissed him once.
Then again.
The third time lingered longest.
When Jungsu eventually pulled back, Gaon followed without thinking, chasing his lips and stealing another brief kiss before letting him go.
Jungsu smiled against his mouth.
“Greedy,” he whispered.
Gaon opened his eyes, looking entirely unapologetic. “You were leaving.”
“I moved two centimeters.”
“Exactly,” Gaon replied, as though that proved his point.
Jungsu laughed softly before kissing him again.
Gaon’s fingers tightened lightly at his shoulder.
For a few quiet seconds there were no jokes.
Just the glow of the jellyfish behind them, the soft sound of water, Jungsu’s hand in Gaon’s hair and the warmth of Gaon’s lips.
When they finally separated, Jungsu stayed bent over him.
Gaon opened his eyes.
They stared at each other.
Then Gaon whispered, “This angle is doing terrible things to my neck.”
Jungsu’s expression dropped.
Gaon burst out laughing.
“You are physically incapable of being romantic for more than thirty seconds,” Jungsu said, sitting upright and glaring down at him.
“My neck is genuinely suffering!” Gaon protested between laughs.
“Fine. Suffer alone,” Jungsu replied, moving his hand away from Gaon’s hair.
“No!” Gaon immediately grabbed his arm before he could move.
Jungsu tried to pull it free.
Gaon wrapped both arms around it.
“Come back. I’ll be romantic,” he promised, looking up at him with exaggerated sincerity.
“You’ve lost your privileges.”
“I’ll say something beautiful.”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“Your eyes are like—”
“No.”
“—two beautiful—”
“Stop.”
“—brown marbles.”
Jungsu stared down at him.
Gaon lasted half a second before dissolving into laughter.
Jungsu couldn’t help joining him.
The aquarium café was significantly less romantic.
Mostly because Gaon ordered a strawberry drink so aggressively pink that Jungsu stared at it as though it had personally offended him.
Gaon noticed before he had even taken his first sip.
“Why are you looking at my drink like that?” he asked, pulling it protectively closer.
“Like what?” Jungsu replied, still staring at the cup.
“Like you’re waiting for it to become sentient.”
Jungsu looked at the drink again. “It looks dangerous,” he said matter-of-factly.
“It’s strawberry.”
“It looks radioactive.”
“It’s pink.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
Gaon took an exaggerated sip while maintaining eye contact. “Delicious,” he said smugly.
“You’re very brave,” Jungsu replied, deadpan.
“Try it.”
“No.”
“You haven’t even tasted it.”
“I value my organs.”
Gaon laughed and pushed the cup toward him anyway. “One sip. Come on. If I die from radioactive strawberry poisoning, you can tell everyone you warned me.”
“That actually sounds tempting,” Jungsu admitted, leaning back in his seat.
Gaon kicked him gently beneath the table.
Jungsu stole one of his fries in retaliation.
Gaon’s hand immediately covered the rest.
“Excuse me?” Gaon said, glaring at him.
“You have enough.”
“They’re mine.”
“You stole my chicken.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Gaon paused.
“Boyfriend tax,” he replied eventually, sounding pleased with his own logic.
Jungsu stared at him. “So I can take your fries.”
“No, boyfriend tax only works in my direction.”
“That sounds illegal.”
“You can report me.”
“To who?”
Gaon gestured vaguely toward the aquarium.
“The fish.”
Jungsu sighed.
Then took another fry.
Gaon kicked him again.
The penguin exhibition destroyed whatever dignity remained.
Gaon became emotionally attached to one penguin almost immediately.
“He likes me,” Gaon announced, crouching slightly near the glass.
Jungsu stood beside him with his hands in his pockets. “He doesn’t know you.”
“He came over here,” Gaon argued, gesturing toward the penguin like that settled everything.
“Because you’re standing near the glass.”
“He chose me.”
“He chose the general geographical area you’re occupying.”
Gaon ignored him.
The penguin waddled closer.
Gaon’s entire face lit up.
“Look at him. Jungsu, look,” he said, reaching back blindly until he found Jungsu’s sleeve and tugged at it. “He’s so tiny.”
“He’s a normal-sized penguin,” Jungsu replied, looking at Gaon more than the animal.
“No. He’s baby.”
“That is not a scientific measurement.”
“Look at his little feet,” Gaon continued, sounding deeply emotional about it.
“I can see them.”
“Do you think he’d remember me if we came back?”
“No.”
Gaon turned around, visibly offended. “You didn’t even think about it.”
“I didn’t need to.”
“You have no faith in our bond.”
“You’ve known him for twelve seconds.”
“Some connections are immediate.”
The penguin turned around.
Then waddled away.
Gaon’s expression fell.
Jungsu bit the inside of his cheek.
“He left me,” Gaon said quietly, looking genuinely betrayed.
“You knew him for twelve seconds.”
“We had something.”
“He doesn’t even know your name.”
“That makes it worse.”
Jungsu finally laughed.
Gaon turned toward him.
“You think my heartbreak is funny?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.
“A little,” Jungsu admitted.
“Cruel.”
The penguin suddenly turned around and began waddling back toward them.
Gaon’s entire face brightened.
“He came back!” he exclaimed, grabbing Jungsu’s arm with both hands.
Jungsu looked at him.
Not the penguin.
Gaon was smiling so brightly that Jungsu felt his own expression soften.
Before he could stop himself, the words slipped out.
“You’re so cute,” Jungsu said, his voice softer than he intended.
Gaon froze.
Jungsu froze.
The penguin continued living his life, completely unaware that he had just created a crisis.
Gaon turned very slowly.
“What did you say?” he asked, his eyes widening with delight.
“Nothing.”
“No, no. Come back.”
Jungsu was already walking away.
Gaon hurried after him.
“Jungsu,” he called.
Jungsu kept walking.
“Jungsu.”
“No.”
“You called me cute.”
“I was talking about the penguin.”
“You were looking directly at me!”
“Coincidence.”
Gaon caught his hand.
Jungsu kept walking, which resulted in Gaon being dragged two steps before he started laughing.
“Say it again,” Gaon demanded, still holding onto him.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No.”
“I’m your boyfriend.”
“Unfortunately.”
Gaon stopped walking.
Because Jungsu was still holding his hand, he was forced to stop too.
Gaon stepped closer.
“You know what?” he said, looking at him with a mischievous smile.
“What?”
“You’re cute too.”
Jungsu stared.
Gaon’s expression softened.
“Especially when you’re embarrassed,” he added, leaning closer just enough to make Jungsu suspicious.
“I’m not embarrassed.”
“Your ears are literally turning—”
Jungsu kissed him.
Quickly.
Right in the middle of the sentence.
Gaon blinked when Jungsu pulled away.
Jungsu smiled.
“Problem solved.”
Gaon stared at him for another second.
Then his expression changed into something dangerous.
“You’ve created a terrible precedent,” he said slowly.
“What?” Jungsu asked, immediately regretting it.
“Now I know I get kissed when I annoy you.”
Jungsu’s smile disappeared.
Gaon’s grew.
“Oh, this is going to be a great relationship.”
Jungsu groaned. “I’ve made a mistake.”
Gaon slipped his hand into Jungsu’s again.
“Too late,” he replied cheerfully.
Near the end of their visit, Gaon pulled out his phone while they stood in front of one of the final tanks.
Jungsu happened to glance down.
Then frowned.
“Wait.”
Gaon immediately pulled the phone closer to his chest.
That was suspicious enough.
“What?” Gaon asked, looking far too innocent.
“Give me your phone.”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s mine.”
“I just saw something.”
“You saw nothing.”
Jungsu narrowed his eyes. “Gaon.”
Gaon stepped backward.
Jungsu stepped forward.
“No.”
“Give it to me.”
“Absolutely not.”
Jungsu reached for it.
Gaon dodged him and started laughing.
For approximately five seconds, both of them completely forgot that they were adults in a public aquarium.
Gaon tried to escape.
Jungsu caught him by the back of his jacket.
“Got you,” Jungsu said, sounding far too satisfied.
Gaon laughed harder. “Let go!”
“Phone.”
“No.”
“Gaon.”
“Never.”
Jungsu wrapped one arm around his waist from behind so he couldn’t escape.
Gaon immediately stopped struggling.
Jungsu noticed.
“Oh.”
“Shut up,” Gaon muttered, but he was already leaning back against him.
“You suddenly don’t want to escape?” Jungsu asked, resting his chin briefly on Gaon’s shoulder.
Gaon relaxed more fully into him. “No.”
Jungsu smiled.
He rested there for another second before Gaon finally unlocked his phone.
There were dozens of photographs.
Fish.
Sharks.
Jellyfish.
His beloved penguin.
And Jungsu.
A lot of Jungsu.
One showed him looking upward inside the tunnel.
Another caught him laughing.
Another showed him sitting beneath the jellyfish glow.
There was one of Jungsu reading an information board.
One of him holding their coffees.
One taken from behind while he walked toward another exhibit.
None were posed.
They were just little pieces of the day.
Jungsu looked through them more slowly.
“Why do you take so many pictures of me?” he asked, his voice losing some of its teasing edge.
Gaon shrugged, suddenly sounding much less playful. “Because I like you.”
Jungsu glanced at him.
Gaon was still standing inside his arms.
“And I want to remember things,” Gaon continued, looking down at the screen. “Not just the big things. I don’t know. Sometimes the random pictures end up being my favorites because that’s actually what you looked like when you weren’t thinking about a camera.”
Something in Jungsu’s chest softened.
He looked at the photograph again.
Then at Gaon.
“I look terrible in this one,” Jungsu said, trying to hide how much the answer had affected him.
Gaon laughed. “That is not the point.”
“I look like I haven’t slept in three years.”
“You always look like that.”
“Wow.”
“But you’re cute,” Gaon added, smiling.
“I’m letting go of you.”
“No, you’re not.”
Gaon was right.
Jungsu tightened his arms instead.
Gaon’s hands settled over his.
For a moment, neither said anything.
“I want to remember today too,” Jungsu admitted quietly.
Gaon turned his head.
Their faces were close.
“Then kiss me,” Gaon said, his voice equally quiet now.
Jungsu smiled. “Very subtle.”
“I’m helping.”
“You’re demanding.”
“Same thing.”
Jungsu leaned forward anyway.
Their lips met slowly.
Gaon turned inside his arms until they were facing each other properly, his hands coming to rest against Jungsu’s chest.
Jungsu’s hands settled around his waist.
The kiss remained gentle at first.
Then Gaon leaned closer.
Jungsu felt his fingers curl into his jacket.
The tiny movement was enough to pull him in again.
Their lips met more firmly this time, the kiss growing warmer as Jungsu’s hand moved slowly from Gaon’s waist to the back of his neck.
Gaon tilted his head.
Jungsu followed.
The kiss deepened naturally, still unhurried but carrying more tension now.
Jungsu felt Gaon’s fingertips press more firmly into his chest.
Gaon breathed softly against his mouth when Jungsu’s thumb brushed beneath his ear.
Jungsu pulled away only enough to look at him.
Gaon’s eyes opened halfway.
He looked dazed enough that Jungsu almost teased him.
Instead, Jungsu let his thumb trace slowly along the line beneath Gaon’s ear.
Gaon’s gaze dropped to his mouth again.
That was all the invitation Jungsu needed.
He kissed him once more.
Slower.
Deep enough to make Gaon’s fingers tighten against his chest.
Gaon moved closer until there was almost no space left between them.
For a moment, Jungsu was acutely aware of everything.
Gaon’s hands.
The warmth of his mouth.
The faint hitch in his breathing.
The way his forehead nearly brushed Jungsu’s whenever they shifted.
Jungsu pulled back for a breath.
Gaon followed slightly before catching himself.
Jungsu smiled.
Gaon narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was just going to say you’re greedy.”
“I’m going home.”
“You’ve said that three times today.”
“And one day I’ll mean it.”
Jungsu laughed and kissed him again before Gaon could continue.
This one was shorter.
Gaon smiled into it.
Their noses bumped.
Both of them started laughing.
Gaon’s forehead dropped against his.
“That was your fault,” he said, still smiling.
“How?”
“Your nose.”
“You have a nose too.”
“Yours attacked me.”
Jungsu laughed quietly.
His arms remained around Gaon’s waist.
Gaon didn’t move away either.
They stood there for a moment longer before Jungsu looked at him more seriously.
Really looked.
Then the words came before he could overthink them.
“I love you,” Jungsu said softly.
Gaon blinked.
That surprised him more than the kiss.
Jungsu almost never said it first.
A smile slowly spread across Gaon’s face.
Jungsu immediately regretted giving him ammunition.
“No.”
Gaon’s smile grew. “You said it first.”
“Forget it.”
“Never.”
“I take it back.”
“You can’t.”
“I absolutely can.”
Gaon wrapped his arms around Jungsu’s neck. “I love you too.”
Jungsu tried to maintain his serious expression.
Failed.
Then he kissed Gaon again.
Shorter this time.
Just because he could.
Before leaving, they took one final picture in front of the enormous central aquarium.
Gaon held his phone out in front of them.
“Act normal,” he instructed, adjusting the angle.
Jungsu looked at him. “You’ve never acted normal once today.”
“Smile.”
Jungsu did.
Barely.
Gaon narrowed his eyes. “That is your passport photo face.”
“This is my face.”
“No, look happy.”
“I am happy.”
“You look like you’re being held hostage.”
Jungsu sighed.
Then, right as Gaon took the picture, Jungsu turned and kissed his cheek.
Gaon’s eyes widened.
The camera captured the exact moment.
Jungsu laughing against his cheek.
Gaon completely surprised.
Blue water behind them.
They looked at the picture afterward.
Gaon stared at it for several seconds.
“This one,” he said quietly.
Jungsu nodded.
“Yeah.”
“This is my favorite.”
Jungsu looked at the screen.
Then at Gaon.
“Mine too.”
Gaon’s expression softened.
Then he zoomed in.
“Your hair looks weird.”
Jungsu grabbed for the phone.
“Delete it.”
Gaon screamed with laughter and ran away.
Outside, the cold evening air hit them immediately.
After hours beneath artificial blue light, the city felt almost strangely real again. The sky had faded into soft shades of gold and grey, and the aquarium still glowed behind them through enormous windows.
Gaon shoved his hands inside his sleeves.
Jungsu noticed.
Without saying anything, he took off his scarf and wrapped it around Gaon’s neck.
Gaon looked up at him.
“You’ll be cold,” he said, touching the edge of the scarf.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re always saying that.”
Jungsu adjusted the scarf around him. “Then warm me up.”
It was meant as a joke.
Jungsu regretted it immediately.
Gaon stepped forward and wrapped both arms tightly around his waist.
Jungsu laughed. “This is not what I meant.”
“You asked,” Gaon replied, already pressing his face against Jungsu’s chest.
“I made a mistake.”
“Too late.”
Jungsu stood there pretending to be annoyed for about three seconds.
Then his arms wrapped around him.
He pressed a soft kiss into Gaon’s hair.
Gaon hugged him tighter.
For once, neither made a joke.
The city moved around them.
People passed.
Cars drove by.
The aquarium glowed blue behind them.
Jungsu lowered his chin onto Gaon’s head.
He felt warm despite the cold.
Eventually, they started walking toward the station.
Gaon lasted less than a minute before shoving one freezing hand directly into Jungsu’s coat pocket.
Jungsu nearly jumped.
“Your hand is freezing!” he complained, immediately looking down at him.
“I know,” Gaon replied without shame.
“Get out.”
“No.”
“Gaon.”
“Boyfriend responsibility.”
“That’s not a thing.”
“Warm me.”
“You sound like a stray cat.”
“Then adopt me.”
Jungsu looked at him.
Gaon’s face was half hidden inside his scarf.
His cheeks were pink from the cold.
His hair was messy again.
Jungsu’s heart softened instantly.
Annoying.
He reached for Gaon’s other hand and pulled it into the same pocket, trapping both between his own.
Gaon smiled.
“There. Happy?” Jungsu asked.
“Very,” Gaon replied, leaning into his side.
They started walking again.
Slowly.
Their shoulders bumped with every few steps.
Gaon eventually leaned his head against Jungsu’s shoulder.
“Today was nice,” he said, his voice softer than it had been all afternoon.
Jungsu looked down at him. “Yeah. It was.”
“Even though you insulted me.”
“You insulted me first.”
“You compared me to a shark.”
“You asked.”
“And you hesitated,” Gaon reminded him, lifting his head just enough to look accusingly at him.
Jungsu smiled. “Still thinking about that?”
“I’ll think about it forever. One day we’ll be eighty years old and I’ll remind you about the day you needed five business days to decide whether your boyfriend was prettier than a fish.”
“It was a shark,” Jungsu corrected him.
“That doesn’t make it better!”
Jungsu laughed.
Then, more quietly, he said, “You’re prettier than the shark.”
Gaon lifted his head.
“What?”
Jungsu kept looking ahead. “You heard me.”
“No, say it again.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Jungsu.”
“No.”
Gaon stopped walking.
Jungsu sighed.
Because their hands were still together inside his pocket, he had to stop too.
Gaon stood in front of him.
“Say it,” he insisted, although the teasing smile on his face had already softened.
Jungsu looked at him.
The street around them was quieter now.
Jungsu pulled their hands out of his pocket.
He stepped closer.
Gaon watched him.
Jungsu reached up and adjusted the scarf around Gaon’s neck.
His fingers lingered against the fabric.
Then against Gaon’s jaw.
Gaon’s breathing changed almost imperceptibly.
Jungsu noticed.
His thumb brushed lightly over Gaon’s cheek.
“You’re prettier than the shark,” Jungsu said, keeping his eyes on him.
Gaon smiled.
Jungsu moved closer.
“And the jellyfish?” Gaon asked softly.
“Yes.”
“The penguin?”
Jungsu hesitated.
Gaon looked scandalized.
“I’m leaving,” he said, already trying to step away.
Jungsu caught his waist before he could move.
Gaon laughed.
“You’re horrible.”
“You love me.”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Liar.”
Gaon’s laughter faded when Jungsu pulled him closer.
Their bodies met, separated only by layers of winter clothing.
Gaon’s hands settled against Jungsu’s chest.
Jungsu looked at him.
For once, neither made the next joke.
The tension returned quietly.
The same kind that had appeared inside the underwater tunnel.
Gaon’s gaze dropped to Jungsu’s mouth.
Jungsu noticed.
“Now who’s staring?” he murmured.
Gaon looked up. “Shut up.”
Jungsu smiled.
Then kissed him.
The first touch was gentle.
Gaon leaned into it immediately.
Jungsu’s hand moved from his cheek to the back of his neck, keeping him close as the kiss deepened into something warmer and more lingering.
Gaon’s fingers curled into the front of Jungsu’s coat.
Jungsu felt him move closer until there was almost no space left between them.
They separated briefly, only enough to breathe.
Gaon looked at him with flushed cheeks and an expression that made Jungsu forget every joke he’d been planning to make.
Jungsu leaned in again.
This kiss was slower.
More deliberate.
His thumb moved gently along the back of Gaon’s neck while Gaon’s hand slid upward, resting near Jungsu’s collar.
Gaon tilted his head slightly, closing the tiny space between them.
Their lips met again.
And again.
Each kiss softer at the edges but somehow more difficult to pull away from.
Jungsu let the moment stretch.
Gaon’s fingers shifted from the front of his coat to his shoulder.
Jungsu’s hand slid briefly into Gaon’s hair.
The cold air around them made the warmth between them feel sharper somehow, every small touch more noticeable.
When Jungsu finally pulled back, Gaon followed him for a fraction of a second before realizing what he was doing.
Jungsu smiled.
Gaon narrowed his eyes.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were about to.”
“I was just going to say you’re greedy.”
“I’m going home.”
“You’ve said that three times today.”
“And one day I’ll mean it.”
Jungsu laughed and kissed him again before Gaon could continue.
This one was shorter.
Gaon smiled into it.
Their noses bumped.
Both of them started laughing.
Gaon’s forehead dropped against his.
“That was your fault.”
“How?”
“Your nose.”
“You have a nose too.”
“Yours attacked me.”
Jungsu laughed quietly.
His arms remained around Gaon’s waist.
Gaon didn’t move away either.
They stood there beneath the streetlights, close enough that their breaths mixed in the cold air.
Jungsu looked at him.
Really looked.
At the messy hair.
The pink cheeks.
His scarf wrapped around Gaon’s neck.
The smile Gaon was trying unsuccessfully to hide.
And suddenly the words felt easy.
“I love you,” Jungsu said.
Gaon’s smile disappeared for just a moment.
Not because he was unhappy.
Because Jungsu had caught him off guard.
“You said it first,” Gaon whispered, his expression slowly brightening again.
Jungsu immediately regretted everything. “Never mind.”
“No.”
Gaon grabbed his coat.
“Too late. You said it.”
“I take it back.”
“You can’t take back love.”
“I just did.”
“Jungsu.”
Jungsu laughed as Gaon pulled him closer.
Gaon’s expression softened again.
“I love you too,” he said, this time without any teasing.
Jungsu didn’t joke.
He simply leaned forward and pressed one last soft kiss to Gaon’s lips.
When they separated, Gaon tucked himself beneath Jungsu’s arm.
They started walking again.
Two minutes later, Gaon began talking about their next date.
Five minutes later, he had already planned three.
And somewhere between Gaon insisting that they needed to visit a planetarium and Jungsu threatening to leave him behind if he compared him to Saturn, Jungsu realized that this was probably his favorite kind of romance.
Not perfect.
Not quiet.
Not something that existed only in beautiful photographs.
It was laughing in the middle of kisses.
Arguing about penguins.
Holding freezing hands inside one coat pocket.
It was Gaon ruining every romantic moment and somehow making it better because of it.
It was blue aquarium lights, terrible jokes, warm lips, tangled fingers and the comfortable certainty that when Jungsu reached for Gaon, Gaon would always reach back.
And if their next date ended with another argument about whether Jungsu resembled a planet, well—
Jungsu supposed he could always kiss him until he forgot what he was talking about.