Archive of Our Own

Seonghyeon, at 18, thinks he’s already seen all things beautiful—sunsets over mountains, shooting stars at night, the brightest city lights and the shimmer of the ocean.

Yet, as he sits on a plush couch in his spacious recording studio amidst a sea of crumpled paper, he decides he hasn’t seen enough. His mentors used to tell him that once he’s travelled enough to take in every possible scene, once he’d witnessed multiple phenomenons and observed the beauties Mother Nature had to offer him, the lyrics would just start flowing out seamlessly.

The inspiration never hit, though, and he’s this close to giving up.

Seonghyeon, at 19, finds out that it's because he just hadn't found the most beautiful thing, or rather, person, to inspire him. And he can say this with conviction as he sits on the same worn leather, but instead, he has a warm presence curled into his side and in his computer sits dozens of completed songs.

-

Ahn Keonho.

What was supposed to be a once-off encounter turned into multiple cafe dates and late night chats, which inevitably resulted in something Seonghyeon isn’t yet ready to reveal.

Seonghyeon first met him on a late autumn night, the air chilly from where it’s shifting into the first few days of winter. The coffee shop Keonho worked at was quaint and cozy, the customers already starting to dwindle down from the darkening skies outside.

He’d seen this specific branch pop upon his feed multiple times, but he hadn’t cared enough to swipe past the first slide of the posts promoting this cottage-like, standalone cafe. Since he’s in the area, one coffee couldn't hurt, right?

Seonghyeon had been particularly stumped that day—zero ideas flowing into his brain and he was getting sick of this artist’s block. Not like other days were better off, well, at least he could conjure some half-assed lines about only needing money, himself, and more money. Today though? Nada.

When he’d reached the counter, a boy that looked about the same age as himself, with unruly dark hair that framed his face perfectly and eyes too big for his face, had been standing there and Seonghyeon felt all the air leave his lungs.

He let his eyes run down the pink, beaded necklace tied perfectly around the boy’s neck and the pin that read ‘Keonho’ with a happy face, scribbled with a pink erasable marker.

He wasn’t one to write about sappy love stories, nor did he particularly enjoy listening to them, but for someone as inexperienced as him in the field of love or whatnot, he found the only phrase that could encapsulate what he was going through at the moment was “love at first sight”.

It seemed the attraction had been mutual, given by the slight twinkle Keonho’s round eyes gleamed with. Seonghyeon tries his absolute hardest not to focus on the way the other boy nibbled on his plush bottom lip, bunny teeth and shimmery gloss, and fails.

Just great. The one day Seonghyeon actually sees a decently cute guy—really, really cute, by the way—he’s in the worst of his ‘I-don’t-give-a-fuck’ fits. It was a lame, checkered flannel and a pair of worn-out, grey sweats. He was trying to mimic those dandy boy phases that famous rappers went through to get some semblance of inspiration, okay?

But he clearly chose the wrong day of the week, for god’s sake—he had one out of seven to choose from and he of course had to pull this crap today.

His brown button-up probably clashed with his sweats that hung way too low on his waist and god, he just had to put on those ugly supreme boxers with the obnoxiously red bands, didn’t he?

And of course Seonghyeon had to embarrass himself in front of someone this breathtakingly pretty, stumbling over his words and messing up his order.

Keonho had laughed then, gracious enough to help him, “How about instead of an iced americano, I'll hit you up with a hot chocolate?”

Seonghyeon just nodded dumbly, way too entranced by the way the corner of Keonho’s mouth lifted into such an unfairly gorgeous smile to catch Keonho’s next question. Who even smiled at strangers on a chilly autumn night?

“Hello? Can I get a name, handsome?”

Only then did Seonghyeon snap out of his trance. Smiling awkwardly, he replied, “S-sorry, it’s Seonghyeon.” He tries his absolute best to ignore the way his heart pounded erratically against his rib cage.

Handsome? His under eyes were horrid. He hadn’t been sleeping for the past two days ‘cause he’d been trying his absolute best to produce a somewhat acceptable song, but to no avail. Someone would even say that his eyebags had eyebags.

“Seonghyeon,” Keonho mumbled while typing his order into the machine, Seonghyeon loved the way it sounded on his tongue. Keonho had a hell of a nice voice as well.

He had caught Keonho’s gaze as he turned away to make Seonghyeon’s hot chocolate. Heck, Seonghyeon didn’t even like sweet things. But he couldn’t find even the slightest rebuttal on his tongue when Keonho had suggested it.

Maybe that was why this shop seemed to be doing pretty well, everyone over-hyping this small little thing just because of the cute staff. Though he couldn’t really blame them, if this Keonho boy was here all day, he had no doubt people only returned to catch a glimpse of his pretty face again. Seonghyeon catches himself thinking of doing the same.

And instead of sitting down at one of the empty booths like any normal person would, he chose to idle about the counter, feet tapping to a rhythm that he found himself surprisingly happy with. Without wasting another second, he pulled out his phone and opened up whichever band app he found first—hastily pressing down the beats before he could forget.

“So you’re a musician?” A soft voice broke his self-induced bubble and he automatically switched off his phone as if someone had caught him scrolling through some r-rated site.

From across the countertop, Keonho stood with his hip resting against the marble, torso leaned forward slightly as he slid the hot chocolate towards Seonghyeon. It was topped with pink, heart-shaped marshmallows.

Seonghyeon’s ears flushed at the question, reaching for the cup while replying, “Something like that, yeah.”

Needing a bit of liquid courage, or in this case, a sugar rush, he doesn’t wait to blow the hot chocolate before daring for a sip. Obviously that was a stupid act on his part as not only did he embarrass himself in front of the absolute brown-eyed beauty in front of him, he burnt his tongue in the process.

But it’s all worth it when Keonho throws his head back in a laugh—a melodious sound that blesses Seonghyeon’s ears. He feels another idea for lyrics invading his mind.

“Ice americano it is, then,” The boy giggles and disappears once again.

Seonghyeon flushes impossibly redder and sticks out the tip of his tongue to let it come into contact with the chilly air in hopes of calming it down. He also reaches for his phone to type out a line.

He has no idea where this sudden sap came from, and has even less of a clue on why he was so attracted to Keonho in the first place. But as he observes the way Keonho moves around in the bar with such practiced ease, the way the cool lighting seemed to follow everywhere Keonho went, the other boy was the only thing plaguing Seonghyeon’s dried up mind.

Belatedly, he realises that his tongue is still lolling out of his mouth like a dog. He has half the mind to retract it but he lets himself indulge in the grace of the pink boy. The moniker is fitting; the necklace, the name tag, the marshmallows.

When Keonho returns, it’s with the familiar drink Seonghyeon had asked for initially and he accepts it gratefully. The first sip of ice stings his burnt tongue and he fights the urge to wince, now was not the time. Especially when he had someone this breathtaking standing in front of him.

The next few sips don’t really get better, his tongue a numb, red thing. But the cooling, bitter sensation wetting his parched throat is soothing and welcomed.

As he lets a relieved sigh escape his mouth, Keonho’s looking at him with a glint in his eyes that lets Seonghyeon know that whatever this was, whether he liked it or not, the damage had been done and it was irreversible.

“So, about your music?” Keonho prompts and Seonghyeon huffs out an incredulous breath.

Which leads them to take a seat at an empty booth, side-by-side, shoulders touching and Seonghyeon nearly combusts at the heat radiating off the other boy. Their pinkies brush once, then twice and Seonghyeon’s all too aware that this was indeed real. He’s got an insanely pretty barista sitting to his left and his mind’s flooding with sappy lovey-dovey one-liners that he’d usually gag at.

“S’just, I’ve gone to all those special places everyone says they get inspiration from, but I just feel more stumped after all that,” Seonghyeon confesses, fingers fiddling with the pink straw of his americano.

He’s no idea why or when they start delving into his biggest concerns, but Keonho is staring at him with those beady, hazel eyes and his hair, god it looks so soft, is styled in that messy, effortless fashion and Seonghyeon’s so, so gone.

Keonho hums, taking a sip of the hot chocolate Seonghyeon had abandoned, lips placed exactly where Seonghyeon’s were just at, minutes before. When he places the mug back down, he darts a tongue out to swipe at his lips and Seonghyeon’s all too aware of the pink, shimmery imprint of Keonho’s lips on the rim of the cup from his gloss.

“Maybe it’s because you’re trying too hard,” Keonho says after a while, manicured fingers tapping on the plastic table. Belatedly, Seonghyeon realises that his nails have tiny pink flowers on them. He’s starting to see a pattern now.

“Inspiration is different for everyone. It doesn’t just have to come from climbing Mount Everest or watching a meteoroid, you could get it just from staring at a colour long enough,” Keonho continues, “Just let yourself feel it.”

He smells like whipped cream and caramel.

They continue their little back-and-forth, arms brushing ever so often and Seonghyeon even gets close enough to see the way Keonho’s eyelashes flutter. It looked like he had curled them, Seonghyeon muses.

When they’ve both finished their drinks, and then some, he’s ninety-nine percent sure that Keonho had let him overstay his welcome. The sky’s almost pitch, a noir blanket signalling the end of their little get-together. He feels half-bad knowing he probably made Keonho do OT but he did shove a hefty bill, the fifty dollar note, the only form of cash he had in his wallet, into the tip jar when Keonho had gone into the back to double-check everything. Also partly because Keonho hadn’t let him pay for the two drinks. Maybe Seonghyeon could take that as a sign.

He waits outside until Keonho finishes closing up the cafe, feeling the chilly breeze caress his almost numb cheeks until Keonho comes out, wrapped in a pretty, baby pink scarf and a new layer of gloss on his lips.

His gaze catches the gleam of a dangly white gold earring on his right ear, embedded with pink diamonds at the lobe. Seonghyeon liked blue, but he’s starting to see the appeal that pink has.

Under the street lamps, Keonho looked like an actual angel, a white aura exuding from where his back faced the fluorescent lights. Seonghyeon hadn’t even realised he was leaning in until soft hands cupped his mouth with a cheeky grin.

“Sorry, handsome, I don’t kiss people that just drank americanos. I like my kisses sweet,” that pretty, bratty little thing smirked before pressing a sticky, pink kiss to Seonghyeon’s left cheek.

His face was ice-cold, he could barely feel it, but the kiss spread warmth throughout his whole body, thawing the winter that had settled deep in his bones. He feels the heat rush all the way up to his ears.

Stepping away, Keonho’s big, wide eyes took on that mischievous glint again and he pressed a crumpled up pink note into Seonghyeon’s open palm before closing his fingers in on the post-it.

Leaning in one last time, hot breath hitting the flushed shell of Seonghyeon's ear, he whispered, “Call me.”

And with that, Seonghyeon could only stare at his fading silhouette sauntering away before he disappeared into the darkness of the night. He takes a deep breath in, smelling the remnants of caramel and whipped cream.

Later when he got back home, Seonghyeon had laid in bed with two new sample tracks filed away on his sound cloud and a number he had yet to text. And for the first time in weeks, possibly months, he found himself being able to fall asleep.

-

When Seonghyeon wakes, he’s still chasing the vestiges of pink nails, lips and necklaces that his dream had provided him with. Rubbing a hand over his face, he groans.

He tries to force his lids shut, willing himself back into his slumber. Dream-Seonghyeon and Keonho were just about to kiss, god damn it.

He thinks about big, starry eyes and the prettiest laugh until he can no longer take it and succumbs to the pink folded note sitting atop his headset.

It takes a while before that, though. He ponders over it in the shower, as he does the measly laundry that he had (he’s planning on immortalising that damned flannel and sweatpants and putting it in a display case, for memories) and only picks up the post-it when he listens to those two songs ten more times each.

As he types in the number, his fingers hover over the keyboard a dozen times, rewriting and deleting each letter before settling for a simple ‘hey’. Basic but effective. Or so he hopes.

Eom
Hey

Unknown Number
?

The reply comes almost instantaneously, as if Keonho, too, had been waiting on it.

Eom
It’s Seonghyeon, from last night
This is Keonho, right?

Unknown Number
Oh.
Still thinking ‘bout me, handsome?

Seonghyeon bites down the smile threatening to form on his face before replying. Gosh he feels like a lovesick middle schooler texting his crush. Though, he wouldn’t be too far off.

Eom
You’re hard to forget.

Unknown Number
ㅋㅋㅋ
You flatter me

Seonghyeon thinks for a while before renaming Keonho’s contact. For some reason, he couldn’t bear to just put it as Keonho’s name, just like he did with everyone else. Keonho wasn’t just anyone, yet Seonghyeon doesn’t know exactly what he was.

Heck, he just met the boy not even more than twelve hours ago and was already dreaming of kissing him. God sue him, maybe this was the karma he gets for wrinkling his nose at those lovesick songs.

He thinks back to pink earrings, name tags and straws. The way Keonho had smiled so sweetly and smelled even sweeter. It doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together, but Seonghyeon’s heart swells with pride as he presses the finalised name into the bar.

Eom
You workin’ tonight?

Princess
Only if I get to see a certain hot guy again

Eom
No iced americano today
I’ll try the hot choco again

Princess
Will be waiting xx

-

And for the first time in months, he spent his day in that spacious studio of his, beats reverberating off sound-proofed walls and a satisfied smile gracing his lips. Taking out his phone, he goes into his notes app and clicks onto a private one titled ‘xxpinkxx’.

Seonghyeon had realised that every time he thought about the boy with honey for eyes and sugar for lips, ideas kept popping up in his head. What shocked him at first, though, was the drastic change from how he was used to writing his songs.

He liked relatable stuff, hip songs with EDM and heavy bass. Things he had been surrounded by—money, work and friends.

So when he stares at the four lines he’d written over the course of the past twelve? Fourteen? Hours, he feels slightly irked by how sappy and absolutely down bad it sounded.

Anyone reading could tell, just by those four lines, that Seonghyeon was utterly gone. But he doesn’t regret a single thing.

-

Nearing the same time as per yesterday, Seonghyeon idles about, letting himself relish in the chilly evening air, breathing in the salt of the sea and the cinnamon from the cafe Keonho worked at.

This time when he enters the quaint establishment, it’s no longer with that feeling of hopelessness he was used to feeling, and instead it was replaced by a renewed vigour in his step.

The cafe’s busier tonight than the last, students idling by with textbooks opened in front of them and couples sharing a slice of cake. There’s about two people in the queue, and from the corner of his eye, he spots Keonho tending to them.

His heart does those stupid flips at the adorable, pink bows Keonho’s clipped to his hair today. His fingers twitch instinctively to type a new line into his notes but he holds himself still. There was always time for that, anyways.

Wordlessly, he joins the queue even though he knows Keonho already has his hot chocolate made and stored in the mini fridge from the picture the other had sent him earlier. It had been captioned with a ‘so you won’t burn your tongue xx’.

But he waits anyways, mainly because he liked watching Keonho like this—smiling sweetly at customers, except they didn’t make his eyes crinkle into twin crescents the way they did when he smiled at Seonghyeon, deft hands steaming milk and writing short notes on each takeaway cup.

When he finally comes into Keonho’s view, the other brightens up instantly and Seonghyeon mentally captures that image, hoping to reminisce it every time Keonho wasn’t by his side.

“So you came,” He drawls, leaning over the marble counter, doe-eyes glimmering with interest.

Seonghyeon smiles, easy and slightly shy, “I said I would, didn’t I?”

Keonho glances around to make sure no one was looking before reaching over to pinch lightly at Seonghyeon’s cheek before backing away smoothly to retrieve his “hot” chocolate.

Seonghyeon wasn’t a fan of physical touch but that little gesture makes his stomach swoop and he positively melts. A dopey, sweet grin takes over his face and his cheeks start to hurt a little.

Seonghyeon is so certain he’s watching Keonho’s concentrated little pout with so much adoration that it could possibly make one’s tooth rot, but he couldn’t care less.

And when Keonho slides the mug across the tabletop, the drink is decorated with pink sprinkles and a strawberry-flavoured Pepero stick.

Seonghyeon is so gone.

Before either of them can speak, another customer appears and Keonho’s whisked away. Seonghyeon wouldn’t have minded, he wouldn’t have cared if the new-arrival hadn’t been looking at Keonho like a wolf would meat.

He observes as the other boy, dressed in a silk button-up that left his whole chest exposed, talks to Keonho with a knowing smirk. He observes the way the other boy had reached over the counter to brush a finger against Keonho’s hand. He observes how Keonho doesn’t shy away from the touch and instead smiles, bright and beautiful.

Seonghyeon hadn’t even realised he had been gripping the handle of the mug so tightly his knuckles whitened until the customer had walked away.

When Keonho turns to him, Seonghyeon pretends to be busy with his cold chocolate, murmuring sarcastically, “So, you that nice with everyone?”

Keonho’s expression softens upon hearing that, a small, endeared look took hold of his face. But his eyes, god, those eyes, shimmered with that knowing glint.

“Hmm, I kinda have to be nice to everyone,” He replies, before making sure no one else was coming and comes around to tug at Seonghyeon’s free hand, “But I don’t usually do this.”

And Seonghyeon is just too weak against that pretty face, so he lets himself be pulled to the back exit that says ‘Staff Only’. His drink sat unattended on the pick-up counter.

When they’re outside, the air is noticeably colder and he catches the way Keonho lets out a shuddering breath. But he shoots Seonghyeon a genuine smile, shimmery pink lips stretched so beautifully to reveal dahlia dimples.

Seonghyeon swallows thickly as Keonho steps in front of him, backing him slowly against the ivory walls of the store.

Trailing a finger up from Seonghyeon’s navel, Keonho speaks, voice sultry, “I may be nice to everyone, but, you’re the first person I’ve ever led here.”

Seonghyeon can do nothing but watch, entranced, at that same pink flower on Keonho’s nail that had been clouding his mind as the finger brushes against his jaw and traces along his cheek.

What comes next is pure instinct and desire, something so reckless Seonghyeon can’t believe he actually succumbed to.

Without wasting another second, he winds an arm around Keonho’s waist, which, god, was so lithe and so grab-able. For once, Keonho looks taken aback by the sudden proximity but melts into it nonetheless, bringing both hands to Seonghyeon’s face to pull it even closer towards his own.

When their lips finally meet, Seonghyeon feels a spark lighting up right in his core. He feels like a live wire—frayed, buzzing, and Keonho was the only thing keeping him grounded.

He feels like he’s finally fulfilled his life’s purpose and the tug of Keonho’s manicured fingers to his hair nearly makes his knees buckle. So, he does the only right thing—pull Keonho in impossibly close, and gently prod a tongue at the sticky pink seam of his mouth.

Access is granted immediately and they both sigh into the kiss, their tongues a lazy tango of passion. Seonghyeon relishes in the small whines and whimpers leaving the other’s lips and presses even further. Until Keonho starts to shiver from the cold.

They take it as their cue to part, lips connected by a single strand of saliva that Seonghyeon wipes off of both their lower lips.

Seonghyeon thought that Keonho couldn’t get any prettier than he already was, except he’s proven wrong time and time again. His necklace, nails, earring and name tag are still the same pink from yesterday. His hair now had twin mini pink bows and his cheeks were flushed the prettiest of Barbie.

His nose was cherry-red at the tip from the cold, a welcomed contrast against his honeyed skin. Keonho’s lips, god, were kissed raw and spit-slick. Seonghyeon feels the sticky residue of his gloss on his own mouth and smiles.

“So I get extra service?” Seonghyeon asks, smug and all too giddy as he removes his jacket to wind it around Keonho’s trembling frame, leaving him in a thin, long-sleeved shirt.

To give him some credit, he had spent a good hour in his walk-in closet, trying on and taking off outfits until there were more clothes scattered around on the floor than there were in his drawers. Alas, he’d settled on a simple, black Henley and a pair of dark-washed jeans that made him look taller than he actually was. He topped it off with a thick navy zip-up. No supreme undies this time.

Keonho’s eyes widen at the gesture, glassy and breathtaking, but grins anyways, “Only the best for you.”

And with Seonghyeon’s indigo jacket wrapped around Keonho’s pink self, he’s starting to rethink blue being his favourite colour.

Once more, Keonho leans in and Seonghyeon welcomes him into strong arms and they share one last sweet kiss in the dark of the night.

When they let go, all Seonghyeon can think about is pink and whipped cream with caramel.

-

Their relationship progresses readily from then on. Or at least as readily as it can be from two strangers who’d kissed on their second meeting.

Seonghyeon reveals that he was planning on pursuing music in university and literature, Keonho. Seonghyeon thinks it’s very fitting—he could see Keonho dressed in coats and shawls with fashionable glasses while holding an ancient script. A new song idea pops into his head at the image.

Seonghyeon also learns that Keonho was living in Seoul alone, the rest of his family somewhere back in Suwon and that he had been making use of his break by working at the cafe.

Seonghyeon’s personal favourite anecdote about Keonho, though, is the fact that the boy used to be a swimmer, a great one at that. He would love to bring Keonho to the ocean one day. Imagining Keonho, in all his pinked-out glory meshing in with Seonghyeon’s favourite deep blue sent a shiver down his spine in excitement.

And maybe he could’ve guessed it, but Keonho was born on Valentines’ Day. It suited him, it really did. Seonghyeon’s boy loved all things pretty and pink, not to mention the absolute sweet tooth he had. But Seonghyeon thinks it fits him more because he was so pretty and pink, and smelled absolutely delectable.

Seonghyeon was never a fan of sweets, he liked dark chocolates and premium roasted coffee that tasted rich and bitter on his tongue. But ever since Keonho and his hatred for anything acrid came into his life, he’d eased into it one saccharine sweet hot chocolate by hot chocolate. Although it still tasted like pure sugar in his mouth, he’d continue to do it anyway. (Mainly because Keonho wouldn’t let him kiss him when he had drunk an americano beforehand.)

Another thing Seonghyeon loved doing was spending time with Keonho. Be it lazing around the cafe at night while Keonho mopped the floors or made drinks, or when they hung out at Seonghyeon’s studio in the day.

The first time Seonghyeon had asked Keonho to come visit his studio, it was just an off-handed comment he didn’t expect Keonho to take to heart. But apparently nothing ever escapes Keonho’s radar, and so, after much pestering and cuddling sessions, Seonghyeon finally mustered up the courage to bring him to his most sacred place.

In truth, no one except for Seonghyeon himself has ever stepped foot in here. It was Seonghyeon’s form of escape, his own little haven that his parents gifted him on his fifteenth birthday as an apology for missing it. Seonghyeon was too used to them being too busy to care, but he was ecstatic to finally have a space he could call his own.

And he was terrified of what Keonho would think of it. What if Keonho didn’t like the dark colours he’s decorated the place with? What if Keonho thought that the electric guitars hung up on his walls were just not his style? What if he let Keonho listen to a song he’d made for him, and found Seonghyeon’s affection too much?

No matter how much he thought of it, he just couldn’t imagine Keonho, resident pretty pink princess, in a place as dark and wild as his studio. Keonho that liked to listen to alternative pop and indie music, Keonho that liked soft and sweet things, Keonho that reaped poetry and cried over it.

He didn’t know what to expect when he, alas, had pushed open the heavy door to show Keonho his sanctuary. Waiting with bated breath, he watched every micro-expression Keonho made, bracing himself to be met with a scowl or a grimace.

But he’s met with nothing remotely close to that.

Keonho’s big, round eyes had sparkled, not with the usual teasing glint, but with the exact glimmer he’d take on when he had read a particularly good book or tried a new dessert that blew his expectations.

“Oh heavens, Hyeon, this is beautiful,” He had whispered, awe evident in his voice and only then did Seonghyeon let his shoulders drop in relief.

He joins his princess in walking around the spacious studio, hand wound around his waist while explaining why some things came to be. Like how he had bought three electric guitars because he thought Guns N’ Roses were the coolest people on earth, only to find out that he liked the sound of an acoustic better.

And when he plays the first ever completed song he’s written for Keonho, he had been too nervous to even look down at the boy that had curled up into his side, head resting on Seonghyeon’s beating chest.

The song had both major and minor chords, the melody from a piano and bridge purely of a guitar. The lyrics were subtle but specific, it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out what the base meaning behind it was.

As the song fades to a stop, his palms are sweaty and the air conditioning feels way too warm. Even more so, since Keonho hadn’t said a single word. That is, until Seonghyeon hears a small sniffle and a damp spot forming on the front of his shirt.

Panic immediately surges through him as he cups the other’s face, “Keon, princess, why are you crying?”

Keonho nuzzles into the warm palms, crystalline tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Seonghyeon thinks he looks as beautiful as ever.

“Thank you, Hyeon. This was…everything to me,” He had whispered, voice cracking and raw.

Seonghyeon could only drag the crying boy into his lap, hugging him close and nosing at the soft strands of his hair. His cheeks hurt from smiling too much. In fact, he’s never smiled more in his life.

-

Somewhere along the way, Seonghyeon had suggested to relive his previous endeavours he had tried his absolute best to recreate in hopes of being inspired before their semesters started and of course, Keonho, being the sweet little thing he was, agreed without hesitation.

So here they were now—one of Seonghyeon’s first ever spots, overlooking the sunset over the mountains.

They had set off sometime during noon, Seonghyeon’s sleek outback carrying them up the paved trails.

Instantly, the vibes from when Seonghyeon had gone up alone versus now were already different. When Keonho had come out of his house, Seonghyeon was greeted with a familiar, pinked-out sight of his love—donned in a muted wool funnel-neck bomber jacket and bright pink sunglasses that were way too big for his face, slicked his hair back in an effortless fashion.

What he noticed next was the snack containers that Keonho had packed, along with two thermoses. All the tupperware had been dyed a baby pink and Seonghyeon already felt the ideas rushing through his brain before the trip had even started.

Throughout the journey, Keonho had put on a playlist he made specially for Seonghyeon, teeth nibbling nervously on his glossed lips as he observed Seonghyeon’s reactions to the songs.

But by the time the fifth song had passed, Keonho had stopped caring so much, openly singing along to the lyrics while bobbing his head. Seonghyeon observes from the corner of his eyes the way the sunglasses kept sliding down his princess’ face but chooses to keep quiet, tapping his fingers along the steering wheel while humming along.

Somewhere along the way, he had caught Keonho staring distractedly at his hand on the wheel and raised a brow in question, “What’s up, princess?”

Keonho startles upright, wide, dilated glassy eyes meeting Seonghyeon’s. Immediately diverting his gaze elsewhere, he mutters a soft ‘nothing’ and goes to fiddle with the ring that Seonghyeon had bought for him three months into their arrangement.

It was a dainty, white gold band, not silver, because Keonho said it shined brighter when it was gold, adorned with a heart-shaped pink diamond. Keonho had cried when he received it and has never taken it off to date.

Seonghyeon tuts disapprovingly and slows down just enough for him to reach over to gently hold Keonho’s face in his palm, “No, tell me, Keonho.”

Said boy leans into the touch, doe-eyes fluttering shut and nuzzling into the warm hand. A telltale blush creeps up his neck before he speaks again, “You’ve got nice hands. Veiny, manly. It makes me want to hold onto them forever.”

Seonghyeon’s heart melts for the umpteenth time since he’s met Keonho, pressing his palm against the soft curve of the other’s cheek more firmly. Keonho whines when he cracks an eye open to see Seonghyeon’s face take on a certain expression that spelled trouble.

“Awe, bunny just wanted to hold my hand?” he coos, lightly pinching the reddening flesh before sliding down to slip his fingers between Keonho’s. But all that bravado is gone when his eyes glaze over their conjoined hands. The contrast is almost dizzying.

Keonho’s hands were soft and well taken care of—lotioned up with the kind that smelled like a bed of daisies and cupcakes, nails manicured with pink stars and knuckles adorably red. Seonghyeon’s, however, were roughened by the guitar and hours spent at the gym. His hands were veiny and calloused.

But despite all of that, their hands fit perfectly into each other, slotting beautifully like two puzzle pieces.

The ride continues for a while more, a series of Dominic Fike songs playing softly in the background. The sky changes, from a sunny, bright blue darkening into a colourful ombré of orange, but their hands stay intertwined on the console.

-

When they finally reach the top of the slope, the sun is already moving down to the west and the amber is slowly mixing with a vibrant purple.

Seonghyeon parks his noir outback somewhere stable before they both get out of the car. The setting up is quick—Keonho had brought a blue and white checkered mat that they placed next to the SUV, and started laying out his pink containers and thermos.

The older boy watches from his place at the back, he had been planning on sitting down with the other but the sight of his boy—so pretty and focused on making sure the tupperware was placed just right, that he let himself indulge in the view.

Seonghyeon wonders all the time about life if he hadn’t met Keonho. Would he still want to pursue music? It’d been a while since he wrote about something other than Keonho. In fact, he hasn’t written a single song about anything other than Keonho since they’ve met. In a way it scares him a bit, the terrifying need to stay by Keonho’s side and be there with him, for him.

But his mentors and fellow friends had praised him for the tracks, mostly teasing him about the absolute hundred-eighty he had for the genre he started with. He also moved from sound cloud to opening a Spotify handle under his stage name, Sean. The compliments were great, the income was definitely welcomed but Seonghyeon only cared about Keonho.

He should produce something for that next time, something about yearning impossibly hard for something that he already has. But for now, he fishes for his digital camera, Nikon and sleek with cute little sparkly stickers pasted all over it and the setting was toggled to a blurry, sort of nostalgic feel.

“It’s for the vibes, Hyeon,” Keonho had grinned when Seonghyeon questioned him about it.

And as he clicks the button to freeze this moment in his gallery, he kind of understands it now. The slight grain to the shot softens the background and smooths it into a beautiful backdrop. The picture isn’t sharp like his camera was made to be; its lighting is a little bit warm and the pixels give way to something grainy. But Keonho, gosh, Keonho.

He looked stunning and so, so unreal. The camera caught the adorable pout on his pink, shimmery lips and the light reflected off of his oversized sunnies. The wool jacket engulfed him and his sun-kissed skin made him look like some kind of fae.

Seonghyeon clicks one more picture for good measure before tucking it into a little pouch and joins Keonho on the mat.

The spread is mouthwatering. There’s that cheesecake that Seonghyeon was hooked onto, courtesy of Keonho making him try all sorts of treats to ease him into sweets, macarons and sandwiches. Unsurprisingly, they’ve all got a certain pink to them.

They start with the croissants with fresh lettuce, tomatoes, grilled chicken and some sort of egg-mayo first. Seonghyeon thinks that Keonho should open a cafe of his own some time later in life, considering half of the items on the menu at his workplace were curated by himself. Maybe there was something redeeming about it other than having a cute barista there.

They were cut up into bite-sized pieces, for cleanliness sake, and had those cute pink little toothpicks with hearts and stars on the non-pointed end. If Seonghyeon wasn’t already this smitten for the younger, he’s sure he’d fall in love a million times over and again every time he ate whatever Keonho made for him.

The cheesecakes come next, Keonho’s a strawberry one with a dollop of whipped cream and an uncut strawberry topped on it. Expected, honestly. His boy liked all things pink. Seonghyeon’s was a jammy, blueberry-flavoured one. His heart does a little swoop at the placement of a strawberry beside his little blueberry on the core of the cake. Something about blue mixed with pink makes him impossibly giddy.

Keonho steals a spoonful of the cake when Seonghyeon’s distractedly looking at the way the darkness started to eat into the orange of the sky, giggling when Seonghyeon tries to glare at him, only to break into a dimpled smile himself.

He takes revenge on the other boy, but fails quickly as before his fork can make a dent into the creamy layer of the cake, Keonho shoves his spoon into Seonghyeon’s mouth and wipes the excess cream all over his lips.

This leads to a fit of play-fighting which ends with Keonho at Seonghyeon’s mercy of a tickle attack.

“N-no, please! Hyeonie I swear I’ll be good,” he pants out through moments of unadulterated laughter and Seonghyeon’s heart feels incredibly full.

But as much as he loved the boy trapped under him, he steadies himself on his knees before plunging his fingers into the younger’s sides, relishing in the little squeals Keonho let out.

They end up sitting side by side, chests heaving in tandem and smiles high on their flushed faces. Keonho’s hair is adorably askew, sunnies thrown somewhere on the mat from all that tickling. They munch lazily on the macarons, a mixture of caramel, chocolate and vanilla.

The mountains are chilly and the occasional breeze makes Keonho smooth even closer to Seonghyeon’s side, until they’re pressed against one another. The pink boy is basically lying down on Seonghyeon now, half of his back resting on Seonghyeon’s chest as the older one wraps a protective arm around his shoulder.

The sun’s nearly gone now, only the slightest bit of golden rays emitting from behind another mountain-cap. The air is filled with Keonho’s periodical commentary, sometimes about the scenery, mostly whatever comes to his mind that he wants to tell Seonghyeon.

Between sips of the white mocha from Keonho’s thermos, Seonghyeon realises that this is how it was supposed to be—relaxing, peaceful. Unlike the last time he’d come by himself, mind running with ways on how he should incorporate each feature into a song.

But as he nuzzles his nose into the soft tuft of Keonho’s hair, smelling the clean, milky scent of his conditioner, he feels more at ease than ever. The best part? Verses were still lining up in a sacred little part of his brain.

-

The next time they recreate another one of Seonghyeon’s solo adventures are when their midterms have finally ended and they just wanted to be together without the hassle of needing to travel far.

Eom
Hi angel, you free tonight?

Princess
Why?
Miss me that much?

Eom
You know I do.
Can I come over?

Princess
You know the passcode xx

To be honest, Seonghyeon had been mulling over how the next rendezvous should play out. Star gazing was something terrifyingly intimate—lying together somewhere while observing as the constellations form varying ‘connect-the-dots’ with meanings they both knew but wouldn’t speak aloud.

Doing it at the park had crossed his mind more than once, but the monsoon season made the grass damp and he didn’t know how romantic having wet asses would be. The block mountains they went last time would've been ideal but they were both tired and a five-hour long transit sounded like straight hell.

So Seonghyeon decides on the most plausible place.

Which is exactly why he’s reversing his Audi into Keonho’s apartment parking slot an hour before their agreed time of 9pm. Truth be told, he was actively sweating his absolute balls off, there were so many things that could possibly go wrong with his plan.

As he hauls his bag up to the building’s off-limits rooftop, his mind races with tragedy after tragedy. What if it started raining? What if the light pollution from the nearby buildings and street lamps washed out the stars?

The worries kept piling on as he set up a thickly-cushioned mat that was large enough for both of them to lay down with ample space leftover. He had specifically bought it for this occasion and this occasion only, he wouldn't want to risk his beloved’s back hurting the next day.

Then came the LED candles. As much as he wanted to light up millions of the real, scented ones, it was pretty windy tonight and he really didn’t want to start a fire and get caught for trespassing. He made up for them by spritzing some cherry-scented mist from Bath and Body Works, something Keonho had bought for his studio.

And the last one, he didn’t know if it was a good idea or not, considering the clean-up as well as the prevalent wind conditions, but the better part of him said ‘fuck it all’ and so here he was, trying his best to sprinkle crimson little rose petals in a heart shape around the mat, making sure they aligned with the faux-candles as well.

Once he was satisfied, he made quick work with the soft minkies, folding them neatly at the center of the mat and places a bouquet and a heart-shaped container full of those Royce chocolates Keonho so desperately loved on top of the blankets.

The bouquet was a sweet little thing, decorated solely with the whitest of lilies and an equal number of pink gerberas. It suited Keonho way too much, his coyness, his warmth and his pinkness.

As he patted down his pants to smoothen them, his hand pressed down to his bulging pocket and a shaky sigh escaped his lips. He still doesn’t know if he would man up enough to give it to Keonho tonight, or ever, for that matter. It wasn’t anything special, just something Seonghyeon saw in the passing that caught his eye enough for him to go to sleep thinking of it on Keonho.

He pushes the thought down into the deepest pits of his brain, now wasn’t the time anyways. And with one final look at his set-up, he goes down the emergency exit to Keonho’s unit.

When he rings the doorbell, he hears a muffled ‘coming!’ And the familiar patter of socked feet against wooden floorboards. When the gate opens, Keonho’s head sticks out of the slight gap before opening it fully when he realises it was just Seonghyeon.

The sight of Keonho dressed in a worn-out AC/DC band tee and cotton sweat shorts he probably thrifted from the women’s side with his hair down, slightly damp at the ends from his shower standing in front of him after weeks of barely seeing each other sends Seonghyeon’s brain into a frenzy.

He barely waits for Keonho to say anything before crossing the threshold of the main entrance to swallow the distance between them and envelope him into a tight hug. He faintly hears Keonho’s small squeal from the suddenness of the action but eventually he wraps his arms around Seonghyeon’s back, patting small rhythms onto the wide of it.

And Seonghyeon feels like he can finally breathe again.

He feels all the tension from months of listening to the same 808 snap in an instant, like how an overwound guitar string would, and the ringing silence it left behind was a soothing balm.

All he could think about was how Keonho still smelled like caramel and whipped cream, even though he stopped working at the cafe full-time and the softness of his brunette strands after the shower.

They finally pull away after a while, albeit with much reluctance and the loss of a Keonho in his embrace is much too noticeable. Still, he lets himself be pulled in by the other into the privacy of his apartment.

It wasn’t Seonghyeon’s first time over, but he’ll never get over how the interior of Keonho’s flat looked like.

It was on the more minimalistic side, cream walls and uncluttered floors. But there was the occasional artwork hung on walls, all bought from struggling artists, and thick novels laying on whichever surface there was. Because “I have a specific book I read at each spot in my house, Hyeon. Get on with the trends.”

Above the television was a little shrine of all the pictures they’d taken together—photo booths, silly Polaroids of Seonghyeon and laminated ones from their dates.

It was odd, really. They weren’t dating, neither of them ever mentioned it. But whatever this was, it was private, sacred and theirs. Seonghyeon wouldn’t trade it for the world.

“You’re early today,” Keonho mentions, disappearing into the kitchen before coming back out with a cup of lemon tea. As someone that works at a cafe, he sure didn’t fancy coffee.

But to be fair, if it hadn’t been for Keonho’s weirdly attractive superstitious behaviour and his grandmother-tale remedies, Seonghyeon thinks he’d still be running on Coke Zero and iced Americanos. The teas help with his sleep, surprisingly.

“Couldn’t wait to see you,” Seonghyeon replies honestly. Somewhere along the way, he’d stopped thinking of cheesy lines to say and started actually feeling them. There had been a point in time when he tried to combat Keonho’s easy flirts with more of his own but now he doesn’t even have to try. Guess love does change people.

He was utterly, irrevocably, down bad. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

Keonho huffs at the remark but still saunters over to him, pressing a chaste peck on his cheek before pressing the glass into Seonghyeon’s hand.

Seonghyeon loves it. Loves this version of Keonho, stripped away from his pink accessories, neck bare and earring missing. His usual shimmer of lip gloss is nowhere to be seen on Seonghyeon’s cheek, in its stead a warm press of lip balm. He thinks it’s that cherry one from Nivea. Or the strawberry one.

Taking a sip of the honey lemon, he lets the warm liquid soothe his throat before setting it down on the coffee table, careful to avoid the hardback of ‘The Picture Of Dorian Gray’ and tugs Keonho down for a kiss.

It’s soft and translates the longing they’ve been experiencing for the past few weeks and a bunch of ‘I miss you’s. Keonho’s lips are impossibly plush and Seonghyeon can taste the cherry on them.

When they part, Keonho curls into his side, assuming his position laying his head on Seonghyeon’s chest, hand splaying across the hard plane of his abdomen and tracing little figures over the ribbed tank he’s got on.

The older one reaches for the tea again and he realises belatedly that the glass had little pink strawberries glued onto it. It was the one they bought together a while ago at some flea market. Seonghyeon has the matching one at his studio.

“Wanna put something on?” Keonho asks from his place on Seonghyeon’s chest, his silken voice a vibration ricocheting off his heart.

“Nope,” Seonghyeon objects, popping the ‘p’ and downs the rest of the drink, “Once I empty my bladder I’m taking you somewhere.”

Keonho startles at the insinuation of going out, beady eyes peering up at him through long lashes, “Hyeon! You said we weren’t going anywhere! Look at me, I’m in no state to be seen by the public!”

Seonghyeon thinks that’s entirely untrue, with and without bias. He thinks there’s just no possible timeline or any parallel universe where Keonho could even look the slightest bit bad.

He likes the way the younger's hair started to curl in on itself once it dried down, not that pin straight style that he would often do. He likes the way his boy’s not dressed to the nines like he usually is—the band tee basically swallowed him up. It wasn’t a look he saw often, prim and pretty Ahn Keonho in a shirt that was two more washes away from having the seams come undone.

Seonghyeon especially likes the way that Keonho is still so deliciously pink even without the accents on his nails and the articles of the like. The permanent flush taking place on the apple of his cheeks and the rosy jut of his collarbones peeking through the neck of the shirt.

God, Seonghyeon loves everything about that boy.

“Nonsense. How could you ever look anything less than beautiful? And no buts, grab a jacket, bun, it’ll get cold,” Seonghyeon tuts, a sense of finality to his tone as he taps the tip of the other’s button nose and heads to the bathroom.

He hears a faint grumble from the couch but pretends he doesn’t.

As Seonghyeon finishes up his business, he finds himself overthinking it again. What if Keonho really wasn’t in the mood to even go out of the house? As much as that boy loved going out just for the sake of going out, there were times, though very few, where he would barely step out of his own room.

Those days were the ones Seonghyeon felt his heart break the most, seeing his precious princess curled up in his messy bed. It was those days when the nightmares got bad, the midnights when Keonho relived a time in his life he didn’t want to talk about.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

He sighs, getting ready to tell Keonho to put on Inventing Anna, or whichever series he’d been watching before midterms hit, “Keon, baby it’s fine we can-”

But his sentence gets cut off when he spots his beloved perched on the edge of the upholstery, a black zip-up hoodie that Seonghyeon faintly remembers disappearing from his studio already pulled on.

The younger one turns at the mention of his name, that adorable little tilt of his head far too dangerous for Seonghyeon’s heart, and hums, “Yes?”

“N-nothing, sweetheart. Let’s go,” Seonghyeon mumbles, slightly embarrassed to have thought over such a simple matter so hard. Sue him, all this lovey-dovey bullshit was scary and hard. If he didn’t love Keonho this much, he’d probably be spending the rest of the semester rotting in his studio, not freaking out over the symmetry of rose petals.

Keonho merely hums, tugging the hood over his head and automatically reaching for Seonghyeon’s hand.

Somehow, even after a million times of intertwining their fingers together, Seonghyeon still gets a bit too giddy over the feeling of that cool metal band biting into the warmth of his finger—never once has Keonho taken it off, unless he had to get it cleaned at the jeweller.

“Wait, before anything, put this on,” Seonghyeon tugs gently on their joined hands, turning the younger boy to face him before producing a pink strip of satin from his back pocket.

Keonho raises a brow but complies anyways, eyes fluttering shut as Seonghyeon brings the cloth to his face. With the utmost care, as if Keonho was a porcelain doll that would break at the slightest touch.

He sees the ends of Keonho’s mouth twitch up, a telltale sign that he was going to say something totally out of pocket. But he’s distracted by the fact that the other boy had reapplied a layer of lip gloss, the one Seonghyeon remembers smells like cotton candy and he’s entirely occupied staring at the smooth shimmer of plush lips that he almost misses Keonho’s soft giggle.

“This is so kinky. You could’ve told me you were into this, handsome.”

The rebuttal sits on the tip of his tongue but he’s quick to bite it down. Truthfully, he’d be into anything if it involved Keonho. The thought of seeing his princess, though, in all his flushed-out glory writhing in his bed with that same fruschia blindfold covering his gorgeous eyes, two damp spots forming from where he knows he’s crying sends a surge of blood flowing down south.

He ties the knot a slight bit too tight as he shoves the image somewhere to the back of his mind. No. Not now, he mentally berates himself as he feels the familiar pool of arousal. He decides not to reply to the comment and slides a finger under the blindfold to make sure it fits just right.

Slowly, he leads Keonho to the entrance of his door and once he makes sure all the lights and switches are turned off, he locks the gate.

Now comes the next hurdle, getting Keonho up the stairs without the other boy tripping and breaking a foot. He ponders for a moment, grateful that his princess was being an angel and simply just standing there, twiddling with the sleeves of Seonghyeon’s jacket and just so pliant.

Oh how he loved his boyfriend-not-boyfriend.

And then he had a eureka moment.

“Princess, do you trust me?”

Keonho hums, “More than anything.”

Seonghyeon grins at that, a boyishly charming thing. And without further ado, he places his arm behind Keonho's back and scoops him up with another hand beneath his knees.

Keonho squeals at the suddenness, hands scrambling blindly to find purchase on Seonghyeon’s shoulders.

Seonghyeon breaths through his nose. It'd been a minute since he went to the gym and his forearms were starting to ache. A piggyback would’ve made more sense but he didn’t know how Keonho was going to get on with his eyes blindfolded.

The climb up the stairs was a battle of grit and his love for the boy clutching onto him like a lifeline. Even with a blindfold on, he could see the way Keonho’s eyebrows furrowed, clearly scared by the constant movement but didn’t dare to say anything.

Once he reached the top, he had to catch his breath, the muscles in his thigh and calves obviously not used to the strain before lowering Keonho onto the ground. When he deemed himself ready enough, he pushed the heavy door open and held it open with his foot, reaching for Keonho’s hand with the other and stepped onto the rooftop.

Fortunately for him, the wind wasn’t that bad and the rose petals had retained their shape. Sucking in a deep breath, he gently guided Keonho to the front of the mattress and removed the blindfold.

When Keonho opened his eyes, he blinked a couple of times to adjust the scene before letting out a gasp, rubbing at his eyelids to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.

“Oh my god, Hyeon- what- oh my god,” he breathed, taking in the crimson petals strewn strategically around the thick mat, the LED candles, the box of chocolates and the bouquet of his favourite flowers.

Tears prickled at his eyes and he immediately turned around to throw his arms around Seonghyeon, crashing into his chest with no other outlet to dispel the overwhelming surge of emotions flowing through his body.

The older boy catches him readily, slightly sore arms wrapping around Keonho’s waist. “You like it?”

Keonho stares up at him through glassy eyes, nose already adorably red, and weakly punches at his chest, “Are you kidding? You planned all this and thought there was a possibility that I could not like it?”

Seonghyeon smiles bashedly, squeezing his sides lightly before leading them into the inside of the heart.

“Hope you’ll like stargazing, though.”

Toeing off their shoes and settling into the plush mat and quilts, Keonho cups the other’s face, nuzzling their noses together and plants a chaste, sticky kiss on his lips, “I like anything that involves you.”

Seonghyeon leans in to capture the other’s lips again, deepening it by swiping a cheeky tongue over the gummy of his lip gloss. Keonho lets him in easily, melting into the soft caress on his clothed ribs.

When they part, Seonghyeon feels like he’s fallen in love all over again with the boy in front of him. The flutter of long lashes hitting the curve of his undereye, those damned doe eyes, the flush on the high of his cheeks and delectable, pink, spit-slick lips.

His pocket felt impossibly heavy.

After a few more stolen kisses, they finally settle on their backs to look up at the unhindered view of the sky. In truth, the light pollution hadn’t dimmed the brightness of the constellation and the clouds had cleared.

In the unbridled night, Seonghyeon’s nerdy phase made a breakthrough as he pointed at the Perseus and Andromeda.

“Princess Andromeda was chained to a sea cliff as a sacrifice to a monster, and Perseus fell completely in love with her at first sight. He fought off the beast while flying on the winged horse—Pegasus, and rescued her. Their stars will lie side-by-side for the rest of eternity,” he recalled, finding the story a little too familiar.

He only knows about astronomy and all that geeky stuff ‘cause the last time he went stargazing, he had done all this research, ready to be inspired by whichever entity that ruled the skies. He had found the tales sappy and unbelievable then. But now, all he could think about was how the long, curved chain of stars matched so perfectly with the wonky ‘K’ shape next to it.

Gliding his gaze along the skyline, he catches the twin stars illuminating the night, the brightest ones, glaring even through the light mist enveloping the air.

“Those two are the star-crossed lovers, that one—Vega, represents a heavenly weaver girl and that one—Altair, represents a mortal cowherd boy. They fell so deeply in love they neglected their duties, causing the Gods to separate them on opposite side of a vast silver river—the Milky Way. Hence why they’re in different constellations. But once a year, a bridge of magpies forms across the stars so they can share a single embrace.”

They continue to spot for other stars decorating the skyline until it neared midnight. Seonghyeon sighs, praying that the Orionids Meteor Shower would occur soon. He had triple-checked all the star-sign calendars and some other websites, making sure they would get to experience the tale of Orion and Taurus.

But his train of thoughts were derailed as Keonho tugs gently on his sleeve.

“Thank you, Hyeonie. For everything, for the bouquet, this set up, for being with me through everything,” He whispered, voice soft and saccharine sweet.

And Seonghyeon is so utterly gone. Keonho’s eyes shone brighter than any constellation ever could, starry and deep. He’d love to get lost in them.

“Of course, princess. You know I’d do anything for you,” He breathes, breathless yet so full.

So he does the only thing he could think of—reach for the velvet box hidden in the depths of his pocket. With shaky hands, he opens it up, revealing a polished ring.

It was melded with two shades of gold, twin yellow feathers sandwiching a white band in the middle. A delicate piece, simple yet so perfect for hands as beautiful as Keonho’s.

“Sorry, I know you told me to stop with the expensive things but I saw this and I just couldn’t stop thinking of it on your finger-” His words were cut off by a desperate, ravishing kiss.

Keonho wove his fingers into the raven strands of Seonghyeon’s hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Their tongues danced in their own melody, fast swirls and gentle sucks.

“Thank you, Hyeon. Thank you so much. I love you, my sweet boy,” he exhales against Seonghyeon’s mouth, and they meet once again.

Except this time, when their lips touch, a flash of white appears in the background—bright, illuminating shooting stars radiating directly out of Orion’s bow.

They don’t break apart, instead holding each other closer and shutting their eyes. Seonghyeon hears the swoosh of each star passing by them overhead and makes a wish.

I hope this never ends.

Alas, as the night draws to a close, they’re still cuddled together, the gentle breeze tousling their hair as they continue with their hushed whispers and more kissing, all under the Moon’s watchful gaze.

(A new ring sits pretty on Keonho’s left pinky, parallel to the previous one on his right.)

-

The next trip is slightly more spontaneous. It happens on a Tuesday night with neither of them having classes for the rest of the week.

Seonghyeon had wanted to stay home and burrow in bed with his beloved but his little princess never really liked staying in, especially when they didn’t have anything going on the next day. So, all it really took was a coquettish bat of eyelashes and a promise of cuddling for the whole day for Seonghyeon to succumb to his baby’s wishes.

He was never good at rejecting Keonho anyway.

Which is exactly why they were practically speeding down the empty expressway currently, helmets on and leather jackets donned “for the vibes”. Seonghyeon finds yet another reason to be grateful for having a Keonho in his life, ‘cause it’d been a while since he took his motorbike out for a ride.

Despite Keonho begging him to drive around in the noir Ducati, claiming that whoever drifted was sexy and charming beyond words, Seonghyeon had always hesitated taking it out. Less so because of the hazardous nature of superbikes and more so because he was scared of how Keonho would react to it.

His beloved Streetfighter was a total beast—boosted engines and LED front lights styled after the Joker’s grin. It was fast and aggressive, definitely not fitting for a casual drive from his apartment to…anywhere, for that matter.

It belonged on the racetrack, for late nights with blasting heavy-metal.

But he eventually relents, knowing that there wasn’t a better time to take his precious bike out for a ride if not for a weeknight with the expressways empty. The weather proved to be on their side too, clear skies and fresh air.

Keonho had been ecstatic when the older finally agreed, peppering his face with sticky, strawberry-scented kisses and skipped off to put on a chic hot pink leather jacket and a matching pair of shorts with ripped fishnets under it.

Seonghyeon almost didn’t want to go anymore after that, blood boiling at the thought of someone else seeing his Keonho in such a seductive costume. Until he realised that there probably wasn’t going to be anyone else on the road anyway.

But he continues with the pouty, jealous facade ‘cause Keonho would coo and tease him endlessly while caressing his face and giving him extra kisses. He was right where he wanted to be.

Though as of now, he couldn’t tell if Keonho was enjoying the ride or not. The younger’s arms wrapped around his middle with such intensity he almost couldn’t breathe. The usually loud and chattery Keonho was nowhere to be seen, in his place a frozen mask of shock from the speed they were going at.

Seonghyeon, on the other hand, was having the time of his life. It’d seriously been too long since he’d gone on a ride. In fact, ever since he had taken to riding his motor bike to observe the city for inspiration, he grew an adverse thought towards it. Forcing the ideas to come to him had made him associate the bike with all things negative and he never took it out since.

But of course Keonho changed his view on it again. Though he’s unsure of whether or not his boy would want to join him on late night rides again.

As the drive went on, he felt the arms around his waist loosening just the tiniest bit, and Keonho scooched slightly backwards, probably looking at the street lamps lining the river bank.

He hears a soft gasp, a pleasant one, and could already picture the look on Keonho’s face—doll-like eyes gleaming beautifully, reflecting the kaleidoscope of city lights.

Seonghyeon’s just glad his princess had opened up more to the foreign stimuli and lets himself feel the rush of air rustling his jet black leather jacket from the animalistic speed that they were going at.

It’s exhilarating, to say the least. Like a head rush of pure adrenaline, a dizzying crescendo of excitement. It had been a while since he found this much thrill in doing something he used to love.

Soon, he pulls up at the railings closest to the river and dismounts, helping to steady Keonho in the process. His angel’s legs are shaky but a rosy flush appears high on his face and the helmet leaves his hair in an absolutely adorable mess.

“That. Was. I don’t even know. I felt like I was on a rollercoaster except we just kept going down the slope. The lights were nice though,” He breathes, pearly whites forming a radiant grin.

“Told you so. A fragile little bunny like you doesn’t belong on such a big, bad ride,” Seonghyeon teases as he helps to pull down the back of Keonho’s leather shorts that had ridden up far too high for his liking.

Keonho merely shoots him a glare before turning to face the water body, admiring the wave-like refractions of the fluorescent lights. Seonghyeon joins him as well, caging him between his body and the railings to shield his sweetheart from the wind.

They should head back soon, there was no way Keonho’s fishnets would keep him warm.

“Hyeon.”

Seonghyeon hums in lieu, resting his chin on the younger’s shoulder.

“Close your eyes.”

He doesn’t question it, quick to do so.

He hears the rustling of Keonho’s jacket before the boy in his arms turns to face him. He also feels his wrist being held by soft hands and a cold metal slips onto it.

“Okay, open.”

And his gaze immediately zeroes in onto the bracelet adorning his wrist.

Oh. Oh.

His brain short-circuits, the band on his hand looked strikingly familiar, with two yellow-gold feathers encircling a basic white-gold band. Keonho was still holding his hand, the ring that sat pretty on his pinky glinting under the cool lights.

“Keon, baby- I- gosh,” He can barely find the words to say, his throat constricting in a telltale sign that he’d start crying soon.

“I saw it when I was on a walk yesterday. And I know you like bracelets, so,” Keonho smiles, a breathtaking curve of his lips and so devastatingly pretty.

“I love you,” Seonghyeon blurts out, too busy caring about the tears threatening to fall from his eyes to notice that he was just saying whatever came to mind, “I love you I love you I love you.”

Keonho giggles and cups his face, dragging a thumb delicately over wet eyelashes, “I love you too, my sweetest boy.”

-

Now, on their semester break, they were completing their last revisit to Seonghyeon’s solo adventures.

For this one, Seonghyeon had planned it down to a tee. He’s been waiting for this exact moment for the past 8 months. The time had never seemed right enough for it, them having met on a late autumn night and spending the freezing winter away together.

Spring was an okay option, but the previous endeavours made more sense to spend with the blooming nature and chilly air. And almost four seasons have passed since they first met, now cycling to summer. A.K.A the perfect time to lounge at a beach and go for a swim.

Ever since Keonho had mentioned being a competitive swimmer before, Seonghyeon’s biggest wish had been to see his beloved back in the water—his happy place.

Keonho had talked about getting back into swimming for the longest time ever, reminiscing the days like a lost memory. He hadn’t had the chance to go for a dive since he’d moved to Seoul, too busy with his job at the cafe and classes.

The fact that Seonghyeon really liked the colour blue and the ocean was just an added benefit. His heart thrummed at the thought of seeing his three favourite things in the same frame.

Which is why he had brought the younger to the outskirts of the country to spend the weekend, where there was an expansive beach and villas. It was a private little thing, where only five or so other people resided. Though that wasn’t that big of a deal, the houses were built far apart from each other, allowing for maximum privacy.

Oddly enough, Keonho had been quiet on the ride to the beach, mostly keeping to himself and twiddling with his fingers. Seonghyeon thought that he would’ve been ecstatic, finally being able to reconnect with his favourite pastime.

He almost caught himself overthinking again, quickly halting the what-if’s building up in his mind before he could spiral and turn this into something neither of them would enjoy. Keonho had willingly came with him, reassured him that it was a great idea and even bought a pair of pink swimming trunks.

After almost 8 months of being together, Seonghyeon knew better than to assume something was wrong just because he felt like it. He trusted that Keonho would tell him, ever, if something was off.

If the Seonghyeon a year ago had heard him say such unbelievably corny things, he’s sure he would’ve laughed until he cried, calling it a disgusting fad. But the Seonghyeon now couldn’t care less.

And he guesses that it had been right not to second guess their trip since he was currently lounging on a straw mat, beer in hand and sunglasses pushed up as he watched the love of his life swimming in the sea from afar.

He’s always loved the sea, loved the way the waves crashed ashore and fell back with alternating intensity. Even when all the other journeys didn’t work for inspiration, the tides at least managed to calm his racing mind, the hypnotising back and forths of the water instilling a state of tranquility in him.

Sometimes the waves crashed against the mountains with such fervour, the loudness drowning out whatever thoughts had been eating up at him. But now, when he’s found himself at such equanimity with both himself and with his production, he’s letting the soothing swishing tread with the ebb and flow of his thoughts.

And as he watches Keonho, his heart swells with such overwhelming emotions. His Keonho, his pretty, pink, princess. His light at the end of a tunnel, his word, his world.

Keonho looked flawless. Even as the waves splashed around him, he didn’t fight it; he became a part of its rhythm, moving through the deep blue like a ribbon caught in a gentle current. His strokes were slow and deliberate, parting the water like silk sliding over polished stones.

He glided so beautifully in the shimmery sea, sliding beneath the surface and melding into it. When he’d reach closer to the shore, he’d emerge from its viscous hold, droplets clinging to his bare torso and dripping off the ends of his hair.

And then, he aligned with the sun in the back, creating an almost blinding halo of pure gold that emitted from his being. The breath caught in Seonghyeon’s throat, his lungs constricting violently at the image.

His sweetheart squinted, before breaking out into the widest, prettiest grin ever when he made eye contact with Seonghyeon. He skipped over towards the older, not losing his balance as he sank into the hot sand even once.

“Hyeon, the water is great! Don’t you want to go for a swim?” Keonho asks once he was close enough, sitting down on the straw mat as Seonghyeon draped a pink fluffy towel over him.

“Hmm? Nah, I like it more here,” he replied easily, making sure to hold the straw of Keonho’s vitamin water to his lips. It was summer, his love shouldn’t be skimping out on hydration.

The younger sips at it obediently until Seonghyeon pulls it away. And they sit like that, staring at the way the blue waves reflected off the light from the Sun’s rays, creating that enticing sparkle.

“Hyeon, thank you,” Keonho starts after a while, voice soft, “For bringing me here. There was a time, years back, when I had been practicing my breast stroke in the deeper end of the pool,” he pauses, taking in a breath, “My form was off, I think. I was fine through one stroke, then the next my shoulders just stopped working. I nearly drowned to death.”

He looks down, twiddling with the twin rings sitting pretty on his pinkies before continuing, “The nationals, my school team, my passion…I guess it all just slipped away bit by bit and I started getting these horrible dreams of drowning and that all my friends and family would call me a disappointment."

Keonho looks up and faces Seonghyeon with a soft smile, “I almost didn’t want to come here today. But I saw the waves and it just didn’t sit right with me to not at least try. Especially when you were with me. I think it was the right decision. So, thank you, Hyeonie.”

Seonghyeon finally lets out the breath he had been holding, reaching up to pull Keonho by the shoulder closer, “Oh my bunny. Thank you for telling me this. You- I’m so proud of you. You’re so brave, my bravest bunny.”

Keonho giggles, melting into the hold, “I love you, Hyeon.”

Seonghyeon nuzzles his cheek into the younger’s wet hair, “I love you too, bun, so much.”

He proceeds to litter Keonho’s faces with chaste kisses, tasting the salt of the sea and the sweetness of his boy’s skin until Keonho pushes him away, claiming that he had much catching up to do with the water.

Seonghyeon watches as he goes back to the ocean, nearly losing it at the sway of Keonho’s hips, those damned pink shorts emphasising his slim waist and hugging his ass just right.

-

Even after all of those little adventures and millions of ‘I love you’s they’ve exchanged for the past year, Seonghyeon still doesn’t know where they stood. Were they friends? But friends didn’t kiss and fuck. Friends with benefits? But friends with benefits don’t just casually tell each other ‘I love you’ just because.

Seonghyeon had given him two rings for fucks sake, and Keonho literally bought him the matching bracelet.

He has no idea how to go about this conversation, so he does the only thing he’s good at—he produces a disgustingly sweet and terrifyingly vulnerable song about his feelings towards Keonho. And he was going to let Keonho listen to it and ask him out officially tomorrow to mark their one-year anniversary of whatever this was.

But tomorrow arrives too fast for Seonghyeon’s liking. He’s positively sweating his balls off even though it was autumn again, winds strong and air cold enough to make your teeth chatter. His studio was air-conditioned for fuck’s sake.

He’s got a bouquet of baby breaths this time, in a beautiful mélange of colours to represent the onslaught of emotions Keonho had introduced his bleak world to. He wanted to immortalise this moment, and baby breaths didn’t wither or die out, or at least that’s what Google had told him.

And before he knows it, they’re back in the same position they’d been in when Keonho had first come into his scared studio, listening to the first ever song he’d written about him.

His princess looks breathtaking today, he always did, with his hair down—they had pink tinsels now—and an adorable baby pink Henley that highlighted the broad of his shoulders down to his delectable little waist.

No matter how hard Seonghyeon tried, he couldn’t relax even as Keonho leaned his head against his chest and wrapped his arms around Seonghyeon’s. The glint of the pink diamond along with their matching set just makes him want to shit himself even more. Keonho is sure to hear the rapid beating of his heart.

He presses play.

The song starts with a soft, layered instrumental backing, mainly from the acoustic guitar.

It flows into the first verse and the chorus comes with a subtle electronic texture.

He feels Keonho’s finger playing with the metal band on his wrist, a nervous little habit that he succumbed to whenever he started getting emotional. Seonghyeon feels a telling sting in his nose.

Without Keonho, Seonghyeon genuinely has no idea what he'd be like today. It was laughable really, how he’d been surviving for 18 whole years of life without his darling angel by his side.

He feels Keonho’s thumb move down, pushing the bracelet up slightly so that he could brush against his pulse point, gentle sweeps against a racing vein.

He feels the thumb against his inner wrist halt, a sharp hitch in Keonho’s breathing. He feels the shudder of an exhale against his chest. Seonghyeon barely realises that tears were streaming down his face until Keonho moves back to cup his face, the same thumb that was rubbing at his radial now wiping the tears away.

And as the melody fades to a stop, Keonho’s pressing their wobbly lips together. It’s scarily intimate, a shaky press of lips. Keonho’s sticky lipgloss and the taste of salty tears makes it harder for them to pull away.

“Hyeon…” Keonho starts, blinking away the tears only for more to gather at his waterline. Seonghyeon shushes him with another kiss to his rosy lips.

“I’m not the best with words, so I used this song to convey it. I’ve started on it since the day I met you at the cafe, exactly a year ago today. Baby, you’ve changed my life in ways I never thought possible and I can’t ever imagine a second without you by my side,” He sucks in an unsteady breath, “I’ve truly never seen anything as wonderful, as sweet and as beautiful as you. I love you so much, my pretty angel. Will you be my boyfriend?”

Keonho laughs, watery and gorgeous, before throwing his arms around Seonghyeon’s shoulder and pulling him in for a hug.

“In my head, we’ve been married since the day you walked in with the grumpiest expression on your handsome face and those supreme undies showing. I love you so much, my sweet boy.”

Finally remembering the flowers, Seonghyeon reaches a hand back to fumble blindly for the bouquet before giving it to Keonho.

“I love you more, princess. The most beautiful person I’ve ever set my eyes on.”

And Keonho’s pulling him back in for a desperate kiss.