For the first time in what felt like forever, Yeonjun had the quiet sense that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

A gentle calm settled over him, and before he even noticed, a smile had found its way onto his face.

Then Seojun spoke, his voice low against the hush of the night.
“What about your family? What are they like?”

And right then, something changed in Yeonjun’s face. It was small, but easy to notice. He wasn’t sure if he should talk about his family to this guy who’d already seen him get slapped in public. It wasn’t something he liked putting into words.

“My parents divorced when I was very young. I grew up with my father and stepmom. I don’t know my mother. She left us when I was four. Oh, and I have a little sister. She’s my father and stepmom’s daughter, but she really loves me...”

He paused. It sounded like she was the only one who did.

“Anyway, I’ve been living with Ji-a this past year. Our families were fine with it. My father actually wanted me to marry her.”

He said it like it was still true, as if that life hadn’t already collapsed. He just sighed, looking a little tired.

“I should probably go pack up my stuff sometime soon… but I haven’t really figured out where to move yet.”

Then, after a second, like he was remembering something he should’ve said earlier, he added,

“You’ve probably heard of Han Group. My father is the chairman. The company’s been in the family for generations. So, yeah… I’m studying architecture. Not like I had a choice. If it were up to me, I’d be doing photography. I used to take pictures all the time. Loved it, actually.”

His eyes flicked up, then down again.

“But… since I started dating Ji-a, I haven’t really had the chance.”

They stopped talking for a while. But it didn’t feel like a pause. The quiet between them felt easy. Nothing was missing, and nothing needed to be said. It was the kind of silence that stayed because it belonged there, like something had just clicked and found its place.

Yeonjun realized he wasn’t tense anymore. For once, he didn’t feel like he had to explain himself more than he needed.

While Seojun looked away, Yeonjun studied him quietly. The way his piercings caught the light, from his eyebrow to the steel ring in his nostril and the stud beneath his lower lip.

If I saw him on the street, I’d probably think he was some punk.

But sitting here now, he couldn’t imagine feeling safer. To avoid being caught staring, he spoke.

“I saw your manga collection. I like some of those series too.”

Seojun turned back to him with a smile. 

“I like drawing them as much as reading, though I’ve been a bit lazy lately. We can flip through some later if you want.”

He leaned back.

“Honestly, if my mom hadn’t encouraged me to read and draw manga when I was a kid, I probably wouldn’t be in the art department.”

He paused for a second, eyes drifting somewhere else.

“I used to be home all the time, and manga was the only thing that really kept me going.”

As he said it, his voice shifted slightly. Just a touch quieter, a little thinner. Something in his face changed. Not much, but enough to show it didn’t sit right with him.

Yeonjun noticed. The change was subtle, but it clung to the air between them. He didn’t say anything. He wanted to, but he didn’t want to pry or make it worse.

Whatever memory had flickered behind Seojun’s eyes, it wasn’t something to press on.

So he simply nodded, pretending not to notice.

But the weight in Seojun’s voice stayed with him. It was quiet, steady, and strangely warm. It carried a kind of calm Yeonjun hadn’t realized he’d been missing.

He held onto that feeling for a moment, then asked,

“What kind of music do you like? You look like someone who’d be into rock. But maybe I’m wrong.”

Seojun smiled but didn’t answer right away.

Yeonjun added, almost like a confession,

“I’m actually kind of addicted to classical music. But these days… I haven’t gone a day without listening to Blacklink.”

He laughed a little, trying to play it off, but his voice didn’t come out right near the end.

“She even got jealous of Blacklink,” he muttered, not looking up.

Seojun raised an eyebrow, then chuckled softly.

“Honestly? Even I like them. Who doesn’t?”

He kept his eyes on Yeonjun. There was something in his face, like his mind had gone somewhere else, somewhere far.

Don’t drift off now, Seojun thought. Stay here. With me.

***

Seojun stood and headed back inside, grabbing two more beers from the fridge.

He’s a little drunk, he thought. But not enough to explain all this. Something’s weighing on him.

I’m in trouble, he thought as he pulled out a snack basket.

If I told him I want to kiss him every time he opens his mouth, every time he laughs, even when he just breathes...

He sighed. “I should probably stop drinking now.”

Still, he grabbed a box of popcorn and the beers, then stepped back onto the terrace.

Yeonjun had leaned back against the lounge chair, his arms loosely resting over his knees, his gaze lost in the stars above.

Seojun felt something in him go soft. The way Yeonjun sat there, quiet and open, almost too honest, caught him off guard. For a second he didn’t know what to do with the feeling.

“I brought popcorn. Let’s eat it with the beer,” he said, keeping his voice light.

“Thanks. Uh, hey… got anything stronger than beer?”

Seojun grinned. “Oh, yeah… Damn. Wait right there.”

Back inside, he sliced lemons at the small kitchen table, whispering under his breath,

“Dear Jesus, Buddha, ancestors, anyone out there... please, don’t let me lose my mind tonight.”

He arranged tequila, salt, and lemon slices on a tray.

Maybe he’ll fall for me while drunk. Maybe he’s bi.

Ji-hu’s words came back to him. 

“Hyung. That guy’s straight. You’ve got zero chance.”

Something pressed inside his chest, but he already knew what he was going to do.

He opened his computer and put on something calm. As the music started, he picked up the tray and said quietly, smiling to himself,

“This time, I don’t care what Ji-hu says.”

Just then, a low buzz came from the kitchen counter as Yeonjun’s phone lit up. Ji-a’s name appeared on the screen, with a pink heart sitting right next to it.

Seojun stood still. The tray in his hands tilted a little when his grip tightened. His face changed. All the warmth was gone.

He set the tray down on the table and walked over. The phone was still lit up with her name.

He picked it up and turned it off.

“Not tonight, bitch,” he said quietly. “Don’t call him again.”

He held the phone a little tighter.

“He’s mine.”