When Yeonjun leaned forward slightly, exposing the nape of his neck, something about that soft curve made Seojun’s mouth go dry.

God, his neck is beautiful, he thought. Being this close to him felt like heaven.

The scent reached him before he even got close. It was clean, gentle, and achingly familiar. That plain white soap clung to Yeonjun’s skin as if it belonged there. His pulse rose, deep and hot in his chest.

He reached out, fingers twitching slightly, and tried to catch the chain. But his hands weren’t steady. The necklace slipped against warm skin, trailing across Yeonjun’s collarbone.

Seojun needed to think of something else, some other way to do this without losing his mind.

“Hold on…” he whispered. “Let me try this…”

He leaned toward the back of Yeonjun’s neck, lowering his face slowly, too slowly, as if the act of moving closer might give him away. He aimed for the clasp where the chain was caught, trying to loosen it with his teeth. As he moved, his nose brushed lightly against Yeonjun’s skin.

Yeonjun’s back moved just a little, like something had surprised him, but he didn’t pull away.

The contact was faint, softer than a whisper, but it was enough to shake Seojun to his core. His lips hovered just above the surface, close enough to feel the warmth rising from bare skin, close enough to ache for it.

His breath caught.

Don’t touch it. Don’t kiss it. Don’t get hard.

The scent, the heat, the curve of Yeonjun’s neck were maddening. It was too much.

Why does he smell like this? Why does it feel like he’s letting me have this?

He tried to focus on the chain, not on the pulse under the skin or the soft dip between spine and shoulder. But his hands were shaking now. His whole body felt like a line pulled too tight.

I could stay here forever. I could ruin everything just for this.

Just then, Yeonjun giggled. It was quick and careless, like none of this really mattered.

Seojun stopped for a moment. He had forgotten how close they were. He pulled his shoulders back a little, just enough to hide the sudden feeling that ran through him.

“…What?”

Yeonjun looked over his shoulder at him, still with a small smile on his face.

“Man… You’re trying too hard. If it breaks, it breaks. Ji-a gave it to me anyway.”

Ji-a…

For a moment, something flickered across Seojun’s face. But his lips remained curled in a calm, polite smile, as if he hadn’t heard a thing.

“Ah... right,” he said. His voice was quiet. Far too quiet. He took the necklace again and held it gently between his fingers, as if it were something fragile. As if it wasn’t already meaningless to him.

From the side, he looked at Yeonjun. He wasn’t even paying attention. He didn’t notice a thing.

She gave it to you. So I’ll be the one to take it away.

He moved his hand just a little, pulled the chain, and it snapped with a quiet sound.

Seojun didn’t pause. He let out a light breath and kept holding the broken chain in his hand.

“Sorry,” he said calmly. “Guess I drank a bit too much trying to be careful.”

Yeonjun shrugged. 

“Don’t worry about it. I needed to take it off anyway.”

Seojun handed him the necklace. Yeonjun took it, turned it over once in his hand, then placed it down on the terrace beside him without a word.

Seojun’s eyes followed the motion. His voice was quiet when he spoke again.

“Maybe it means something,” he said. “Like the tie between you two is gone now.”

Yeonjun didn’t answer right away. He leaned back onto the lounger, arms behind his head, gaze drifting up to the sky.

“I hope it is,” he said.

Seojun hesitated, then pushed himself up.

“Wait a second,” he murmured.

He disappeared into the house, footsteps soft against the wood floor. Yeonjun turned his head, curious, but didn’t move. A minute later, Seojun came back holding something small in his hand.

It was a bracelet, bright orange string, intricately braided, with a black and white ceramic charm hanging at the center. The charm had a subtle tribal-inspired engraving, the edges smoothed by careful craftsmanship.

“I made this a while ago,” Seojun said, voice low. “Wasn’t planning to give it to anyone. But since I broke your necklace, felt like I owed you something.”

Yeonjun sat up slowly. “You didn’t have to.”

“I know. Still,” Seojun said, holding it out. “I want you to have it. I mean... if you like it?”

The bracelet was really beautiful. Under the soft patio light, the ceramic glowed with a muted shine. Yeonjun ran his fingers over the charm, then smiled.

“It’s really nice.”

Seojun stepped closer. “Wait. I’ll tie it for you.”

He knelt beside him and took Yeonjun’s wrist.  As he began to tie the string, careful and precise, Yeonjun looked at him.

“…You know it’s past midnight, right?” he said. “It’s White Day1 now.”

Seojun froze, hands stilling for a second. He breathed out quietly.

“Yeah? Didn’t even realize.”

The knot secured, Seojun leaned back slightly. Yeonjun lifted his arm and extended it forward, examining the bracelet from a distance.

They both looked at it quietly for a moment.

“Thanks, Seojun,” Yeonjun said softly. “It’s a beautiful piece. I’ll take good care of it.”

Seojun was still shaken from how close they had been earlier. 

I need to clear my head, fast, he thought.

“I’m just gonna step into the bathroom for a bit,” he said to Yeonjun.

“Sure,” Yeonjun replied.

Then Seojun stood up quickly and walked toward the bathroom.

Inside, he gripped the edge of the sink and lowered his head.

“Fuck,” he said as he looked at the mirror. His chest moved up and down in a shaky rhythm. He put one hand over his heart, like he was trying to calm the heat under his skin, but it didn’t help.

I swear to God, I was one second away from getting hard. Right there. Over a necklace.

He shut his eyes, trying to steady himself. The scent. The skin. The way Yeonjun didn’t even realize what he was doing to him.

He has no idea… At this rate... there’s no way I’m letting him belong to anyone else.

***

Just then, Yeonjun’s voice called from the terrace.

“Seojun! I’m hungry. Gonna find a 24-hour spot and grab something. What do you want?”

“No need to go out. I’ll fix something,” Seojun called back. “Be right there!”

Yeonjun laughed. “I’m already raiding your kitchen!”

“Wait, no!” Seojun snapped, yanking the bathroom door open.

He stepped out just in time to see Yeonjun heading toward the small kitchen, hand already reaching for the first cabinet.

“Yeonjun!”

His voice cracked. “Don’t open that cabinet!”

 “…Huh?”

 ¹ A Korean (and East Asian) holiday celebrated on March 14, exactly one month after Valentine’s Day. In Korean tradition, Valentine’s Day (February 14) is when women give chocolates or gifts to men, and White Day is when men return the favor, often with candy, gifts, or more elaborate gestures. It’s commonly observed by couples, friends, or even classmates, and is considered a culturally significant day for expressing romantic interest or appreciation.