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There were many things Han liked about being with Shuaibo.
He liked the quiet moments most.
It wasn't because anything interesting happened. Usually, nothing did. They’d sit around after dinner, Shuaibo leaning back against him while Han absentmindedly twirled the ends of his hair. Sometimes a movie played in the background that neither of them watched. Sometimes Shuaibo talked about his day, and Han just listened. It was just easy. Neither of them had to put on a show.
That evening, they were out on the balcony.
The city had settled down around them, lights glowing soft across the street while a light breeze rustled the clothes Shuaibo had left draped over the back of a chair. Shuaibo sat comfortably between Han's legs, leaning his back against Han’s chest while Han kept an arm wrapped casually around his waist.
It was, by any measure, pretty romantic.
Shuaibo tilted his head back, looking at him. “You’re quiet.”
Han told him he was tired, which earned him the usual complaint that he was always tired. He accused Shuaibo of talking too much, and Shuaibo, with the confidence of someone who knew exactly how much he was loved, pointed out that Han liked listening to him.
Han didn't argue, smiling instead.
There was something about the way Shuaibo looked at him then that made the rest of the evening seem quieter than it actually was. His expression had lost its usual sharpness, and for once he wasn't trying to provoke Han into saying something embarrassing.
Han lowered his head and kissed him.
It was soft and unhurried, the kind of kiss that came naturally after spending enough time with someone that affection no longer needed an excuse. Shuaibo's hand came up to rest against the side of Han's neck. When they pulled apart, neither of them moved very far.
Han rested his forehead against Shuaibo’s, feeling the faint, warm curve of the latter's smile.
Then, completely out of nowhere, Han thought of millibars.
There was zero explanation for it. He hadn't checked the weather. Nobody was talking about meteorology. The sky was clear.
He'd learned the word months ago, during one of those rabbit holes he'd fallen into while reading about how storms formed. He'd started with a simple question about thunderstorms and somehow ended up reading about air pressure, atmospheric circulation, and why hurricanes intensified. Somewhere along the way, he'd come across millibars and remembered the word simply because it sounded funny.
He hadn't thought about it since.
Until now.
The word just popped into his head.
Millibars.
Han stared at Shuaibo. It was a weird word. Not in a bad way, just… hard to defend.
It sounded edible.
Han’s face changed. Shuaibo picked up on it instantly.
“What?”
Han hesitated. There were plenty of normal, affectionate things to say right after kissing your boyfriend. Unfortunately, none of them had the same satisfying bounce to the syllables as what he actually said.
“Millibars sound delicious.”
Shuaibo blinked. “...What?”
“Millibars,” Han repeated, completely serious.
At first, Shuaibo seemed to assume that Han was joking. This was reasonable. Most people, upon being kissed by their boyfriend under a darkening evening sky, did not suddenly bring up units of atmospheric pressure.
But Han's face gave him away.
He was completely serious.
Shuaibo slowly pulled his head back.
“Millibars?”
Han nodded.
The confusion on Shuaibo's face deepened.
Han, sensing that he had failed to communicate, attempted to explain.
“Think about it,” Han started, gesturing slightly with his hand. “Milli makes it sound small. Bar makes it sound like candy. If you put them together, it sounds like something you buy at a convenience store in a shiny wrapper. Almost sounds like a Milky Bar, but chocolate.”
Shuaibo just stared at him.
“It’d probably be chocolate-covered,” Han added, warming up to the idea. “A soft caramel center, with a layer of wafer around it. Then chocolate over everything. Like a storm—different layers, all wrapped around the center.”
Shuaibo’s face went completely blank—the classic look he gave Han when he couldn't decide whether to laugh or check him for a fever.
“Maybe the chocolate could be slightly uneven,” Han continued. “Like the cloud bands around a cyclone. It'd look more natural.”
“Han.”
“What?”
“You are describing a hurricane.”
“I'm making a Millibar.”
He could picture the wrapper so clearly it was almost annoying. He had never wanted a fake snack this badly in his life.
Shuaibo looked away, his shoulders starting to twitch.
“Are you laughing?” Han asked and frowned, though his own mouth was betraying him. “I’m being serious.”
That ruined whatever self-control Shuaibo had left. He burst out laughing, tears springing to the corners of his eyes.
“We were kissing!” Shuaibo wheezed, shaking his head. “We were having a nice moment, and your brain goes straight to an imaginary sweet!”
Shuaibo snorted, tried to choke it back, failed, and buried his face directly into Han’s chest. His shoulders were shaking uncontrollably. “You are actually insane. You’re a deeply sick man.”
“I’m just saying, if a candy company dropped a Millibar right now, it would sweep the market.”
“Shut up,” Shuaibo wheezed into Han's shirt, wiping a legitimate tear from his eye. “Shut up right now.”
They sat in silence for another three minutes. The breeze moved around them. Han wrapped both arms back around Shuaibo, pulling him close again, assuming the moment had passed.
Then Shuaibo said quietly, “I’d probably want the caramel ones.”
Han looked down at him. Shuaibo was fighting a grin.
“You don’t even know what they taste like,” Han said.
“Neither do you.”
“I have a rough draft.”
“Of course you do.”
Han tried to let it go, but the thought was stuck now. He found himself wondering if it sounded more like a candy bar from Europe or a Korean convenience store snack. He wondered what color the logo would be.
Beside him, Shuaibo started giggling again.
“What?” Han asked.
Shuaibo turned around, his eyes soft as he looked up at Han. “You’re so weird.”
“Sometimes.”
“I know.” Shuaibo reached up, brushing a strand of hair out of Han’s eyes, his thumb lingering against Han’s temple.
The gesture was gentle enough that Han actually forgot about millibars for a second.
Shuaibo pulled him down for another kiss. Han really tried to stay in the moment this time. He made it about five seconds before his brain betrayed him again.
Maybe milk chocolate instead of dark.
Han squeezed his eyes shut. This was a disease.
Shuaibo cracked one eye open. He knew instantly.
“You’re thinking about it again, aren't you?”
Han looked off toward the city.
Shuaibo laughed softly, shaking his head as he buried his face into the crook of Han’s neck.
After that, the word became theirs.
Not officially. There was no reason to make it official, and Han would have denied the significance of it if anyone asked.
But Shuaibo remembered.
Two days later, they were in a convenience store. Han was absentmindedly checking out instant ramen when he turned around and realized Shuaibo was missing.
He tracked him down three aisles over. Shuaibo was standing in front of the chocolate display, aggressively holding up a box of off-brand chocolate wafers like a tactical weapon.
“Is this it?” Shuaibo demanded the second Han walked up, stepping right into his personal space. “Is this the stupid weather chocolate?”
Han inspected the box with severe academic scrutiny. “No. The packaging lacks vision.”
“I am going to throw this at your head.”
“Buy it anyway.”
They bought it.
That night, they ended up sprawling together on the living room couch. The apartment was quiet, lit only by the warm glow of the lamp. Shuaibo was leaning back against Han's side, casually reaching over to steal pieces of chocolate directly out of Han’s hand, despite having his own section of the packet.
Han didn't mind in the slightest. He just adjusted his arm, wrapping it around Shuaibo's waist to pull him a little tighter against him.
Shuaibo chewed critically, looking up at Han with dark, fond eyes. “So?”
Han considered the chocolate thoughtfully, then looked down at his boyfriend tucked safely against his chest.
“No,” Han said softly, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Still better as millibars.”
Shuaibo burst out laughing, nearly choking on his wafer.
Han just laughed with him, pressing a soft, quiet kiss against the top of Shuaibo's head, holding him tight while the absolute nonsense of the universe settled happily around them.