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 a natural smile appeared on his face before he even noticed.

Then Seojun spoke, and his low voice cut through the hush of the night.

"What about your family? What are they like?"

Yeonjun dropped his smile. He looked away for a second. He was not sure if he should talk about his family to this guy. The painting student had already seen him get slapped in public, so he did not really want to put the rest of his mess into words.

"My parents divorced when I was very young," Yeonjun said. "I grew up with my grandpa. 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 stopped talking for a moment, and it sounded like the little girl was the only one who actually loved him.

"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 the words like the plan was still true. He acted as if that life had not completely collapsed yet. He just sighed, and his shoulders slumped slightly with exhaustion.

"I should probably go pack up my stuff sometime soon… but I haven't really figured out where to move yet," he said.

He waited a second before he added another detail. It looked like he was remembering something he should have mentioned earlier.

"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."

He looked up at the sky and then brought his gaze back down.

"But… since I started dating Ji-a, I haven't really had the chance."

They stopped talking for a while, but the quiet did not feel heavy. The silence between them felt incredibly easy. Nothing was missing, and they did not need to force any words. The stillness stayed because it belonged there. It felt like something had just clicked into place.

Yeonjun realized his muscles were not stiff anymore. For once, he did not feel the need to explain himself.

While Seojun looked out at the city, Yeonjun studied him quietly. The terrace light caught the metal across his face. The glow highlighted the piercing on his eyebrow, and the steel ring in his nostril.

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

But he sat there now, and he could not imagine feeling safer anywhere else. He spoke up quickly to avoid getting caught staring.

"I saw your manga collection. I like some of those series too," he said.

Seojun turned back to him. His lips curved upward.

"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 said.

He leaned back into his lounger.

"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 stopped talking for a second, and his eyes drifted toward the dark horizon.

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

His voice changed when he said the last part. The tone dropped a little quieter, and it sounded slightly thinner. The relaxed lines around his eyes hardened just a fraction. The change was very small, but it showed that the memory did not sit right with him.

Yeonjun noticed the subtle drop in his energy. The heavy feeling hung in the air between them, but he kept his mouth shut. He wanted to say something, but he did not want to pry or make the situation worse.

Whatever memory had crossed the other boy's mind, it was clearly not something to press on.

So Yeonjun simply nodded his head. He acted like he did not notice the change in mood.

But the steady weight in his companion's voice stayed with him. It was quiet and strangely warm. The tone carried a specific kind of calm, and Yeonjun had not realized how much he missed that exact feeling.

He held onto the comfort for a moment, and then he asked a new question.

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

Seojun grinned, "You're not wrong. I listen to K-pop sometimes too, not gonna lie. I'm mostly into boy groups, though. Stray Cats are awesome."

Yeonjun leaned forward slightly and "I'm actually kind of addicted to classical music," he said. "But these days… I haven't gone a day without listening to Blacklink."

He laughed a little. He tried to play the confession off casually, but his voice cracked near the end.

"Man, she even got jealous of Blacklink," he muttered. He kept his eyes on the table.

Seojun raised an eyebrow, and then he chuckled softly.

"Honestly? Even I like them. Who doesn't?" he said.

He kept his eyes locked on his guest. Yeonjun looked a bit distant, as if his mind had traveled somewhere far away.

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

—

Seojun stood up and walked back inside. He grabbed 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.

He pulled a snack basket from the pantry. 

I'm in trouble. 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," he said.

Still, he grabbed a box of popcorn and the cold cans, and he stepped back onto the terrace.

Yeonjun was leaning back against the lounge chair. His arms rested loosely over his knees, and he stared up at the stars above.

Seojun felt his chest grow warm. His guest sat there in complete quiet, and he looked entirely open and honest. The vulnerability caught the painting major completely off guard, and for a second, he did not know what to do with the intense feeling.

"I brought popcorn. Let's eat it with the beer," he said.

"Thanks. Uh, hey… got anything stronger than beer?" Yeonjun asked.

Seojun grinned. "Yeah… Damn. Wait right there," he said.

He walked back inside and set the beers down. He stood at the small kitchen table and sliced a lemon.

"Dear Jesus, Buddha, ancestors, anyone out there... please, don't let me lose my mind tonight," he whispered.

He arranged a bottle of tequila, a small dish of salt, and the lemon slices on a tray.

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

Ji-hu's words echoed in his mind.

"Hyung. That guy's straight. You've got zero chance."

A heavy ache settled in his chest, but he already knew exactly what he was going to do.

He opened his laptop and put on a calm playlist. The music started playing through the speakers, and he picked up the tray. A genuine smile spread across his face.

"I don't care what Ji-hu says," he said quietly.

Just then, the phone on the kitchen counter vibrated loudly against the marble. Yeonjun's screen lit up. Ji-a's name appeared in bright letters, and a pink heart sat right next to the text.

Seojun stood completely still. His hands closed hard around the edges of the tray, and the wood tilted slightly. All the warmth drained from his face.

He set the tray down on the table and walked over to the counter. The screen was still glowing with her name.

He picked up the device and hit the power button to turn it off.

"Not tonight, abuser bitch," he said quietly. "Don't call him again."

He squeezed the plastic case.

"Han Yeonjun's mine."