Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The sun hadn’t yet risen, but faint streaks of lavender and gray peeked through the closed curtains as it was approaching dawn. The only light in Taerae’s room came from his dual monitors— one glowing with a detailed battlefield map and the other splashed in red and gold as victory stats lined the screen.

“PENTAKILL!”

The announcer’s voice echoed from his headphones, and Taerae grinned smugly, fingers flying over the mechanical keyboard as if he was possessed. The satisfying click-clack of keys reverberated through the small, suffocating space. On the screen, his champion lunged forward, destroying the Nexus— undeniably the hard carry of the team.

Master Rank Promotion Achieved.

“God, finally..” Taerae muttered to himself, pushing his chair back an inch, an exhausted but victorious sigh slipping out.

Around him, the room looked more like a dumpster than a living space. Crumpled Red Bull cans were stacked on his desk, forming a lopsided tower beside an empty Pringles can, grease-streaked and neglected. The faint smell of salt and energy drinks hung in the air. His black hoodie, stretched out and fraying at the sleeves, looked as if it hadn’t left his body in days and dark bags clung beneath his eyes from the lack of sleep.

Taerae pushed his hair back, but it didn’t help. His hair strands stuck up in every direction, like an unkempt bush. “Alright, I can get to Grandmaster if I keep this up,” he muttered, though his voice was hoarse, evidence of hours spent whispering strategies into a mic.

The clock on the corner of his screen blinked 6:02 AM. Outside, the faint hum of early morning traffic began to seep through the walls, but Taerae barely noticed.

The intrusion came suddenly. The door to his cave-like room swung open with the squeal of the hinges, the light from the hallway slicing through the darkness. Taerae flinched, spinning in his chair just as Matthew barged in like a force of nature.

Taerae scowled, shielding his eyes. “God, knock or something– people live here, you know?”

Matthew ignored him. His best friend stood tall, blonde hair neatly styled, looking irritatingly fresh for someone who had the audacity to ruin Taerae’s victorious moment. In one hand, he gripped a worn duffle bag— Taerae’s duffle bag— and with his other, he reached out and yanked Taerae’s headset clean off his head.

“Wha–” Taerae squawked, spinning fully around to face him. “What the hell is your problem?”

Matthew’s lips quirked, his gaze darting over the disaster zone of Taerae’s desk and then to Taerae himself— hoodie askew, hair sticking up like a cartoon character, eyebags that could hold a lifetime of regret.

“You’re disgusting,” Matthew declared with theatrical disgust, kicking aside an empty can on the floor. “When was the last time you saw sunlight?”

Woah.

Taerae ignored him, crossing his arms defensively. “I’ll have you know I just hit Master on League. Maybe some respect?”

Matthew wasn’t listening. He moved with swift purpose, unzipping the duffle bag and making a beeline for Taerae’s closet, pulling out random clothes with the focus of a soldier on a mission.

“What are you— ..stop touching my stuff!” Taerae jumped out of his chair, the motion almost toppling the Red Bull tower. “Where the hell are you taking my clothes?”

Matthew glanced at him over his shoulder, unimpressed. “You’re going to Hongcheon.”

Taerae froze mid-step. “What?”

“You heard me,” Matthew said casually, stuffing a pair of jeans into the bag. “Guesthouse. Fresh air. Nature. Social interaction.” He spat out the last part like it was medicine Taerae desperately needed.

The realization hit Taerae like a bucket of cold water. “Absolutely not.”

Matthew’s eyes narrowed. “Absolutely yes. You’ve been locked up in here for weeks, Taerae. Weeks. Gaming, sulking, eating garbage— what, because some loser dumped you? You look like you’re two steps away from becoming a cave troll.”

Taerae glared, defensiveness rising in his chest. “I’m not sulking. I’m grinding. It’s different.”

Matthew paused. He turned back to face Taerae slowly, a wicked gleam in his eye. “Oh? Grinding, huh?”

Taerae took a cautious step back. “Yeah?”

Matthew reached past him and snatched something off the desk— Taerae’s game console.

The limited edition one.

The one he’d lined up for hours to buy.

“Hey— HEY!” Taerae lunged, but Matthew held the console high, a sadistic grin spreading across his face.

“You have two options,” Matthew said, dangling the console like bait. “Option one: You pack your things and go to this guesthouse, get some vitamin D, and stop acting like a mopey loser.”

“Or?” Taerae shot back, still trying to grab at it.

“Or,” Matthew said, voice dropping ominously, “I delete your accounts. All of them. I’ll even screenshot your shitty K/D ratio and post it on Twitter.”

Taerae froze mid-reach. “..You wouldn’t.”

Matthew smirked, a predator who’d cornered his prey. “You know I would.”

A tense silence settled between them, broken only by the distant hum of a car passing outside. Taerae’s heart sank into his stomach. He could almost see his years of gaming achievements— his ranks, his skins— going up in smoke.

With a deep, reluctant sigh, Taerae sank back into his gaming chair, defeated. He scrubbed his hands over his face, groaning dramatically.

“You’re the worst,” he muttered, voice muffled by his palms.

“I’m still your best friend,” Matthew shot back cheerfully, shoving the last of Taerae’s clothes into the duffle bag. “Now get up. You’ve got an hour to shower and pack whatever’s left. A driver will pick you up in a bit.”

Taerae peeked through his fingers, glaring daggers. “I hope you step on a Lego.”

Matthew only grinned, hoisting the duffle bag over his shoulder. “Let’s go, Master Rank. You’re burning daylight.”

—

The drive to Hongcheon began quietly. Taerae sat slouched against the window, arms folded tightly over his chest as he stared at the scenery passing by. At first, there wasn’t much to see— just the remnants of the city, brick buildings giving way to smaller houses, narrow roads, and scattered signs pointing toward destinations he didn’t care about. But slowly, the view began to change. Fields stretched out wide, dotted with small streams and low fences. The morning sunlight hit the hills just right, casting a golden glow that seemed to soften everything, and a faint mist lingered in the valleys. It was peaceful in a way Taerae couldn’t ignore, despite himself.

He shifted, resting his head against the seat. The hum of the car’s engine and the faint music playing from the driver’s radio lulled him into a daze. Eventually, he let his eyes slip shut, surrendering to the exhaustion that weighed on his body. It wasn’t long before he drifted off, the quiet road and rolling scenery blending into his dreams.

—

The driver’s gentle nudge woke him. “We’ve arrived, sir,” the man said softly. Taerae blinked, disoriented for a moment, before sitting up with a groggy groan. He stepped out of the car reluctantly, duffel bag slung over his shoulder, the crisp air hitting his face. The wooden guesthouse stood in front of him, quaint and unfamiliar. Its wood-panel walls were decorated with hanging flower baskets, and a sign that read “Country Town” swayed slightly in the breeze. It looked like something out of an old movie— simple, charming, and impossibly quiet.

Taerae sighed, running a hand through his hair and grimacing when his fingers caught in the messy strands at the back. Matthew had dressed him, and it showed: a cream cable-knit sweater tucked into faded denim jeans, the cuffs rolled up just right above his clean white sneakers. It was cute, annoyingly so, and Taerae felt out of place standing there, sleep-rumpled and irritable. He glanced around, eyeing the porch with its wooden rocking chairs and flower pots. I could call a cab right now, he thought. Be back home before noon.

Before he could act on the idea, a low meow interrupted him. Taerae looked down, surprised, to find a plump orange tabby cat staring at him with unblinking green eyes. It waddled toward him confidently, tail flicking as if it owned the entire property. Taerae couldn’t help but crouch down, curiosity getting the better of him. “Well, aren't you one big boy,” he muttered, scratching behind its ears. The cat responded by purring loudly, pressing its head into his palm like it had been waiting all morning for this attention. “Guess you’re the boss around here, huh?” Taerae added, a reluctant smile tugging at his lips. For the first time since he’d arrived, he didn’t feel completely annoyed.

“You’ve already made friends, I see,” a voice called from the porch, warm and teasing. Taerae startled slightly, glancing up. A tall guy stood there, a bucket of tools in one hand, looking every bit like someone who belonged in this setting. He wore a plain white T-shirt and jeans, sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, and his dark hair fell effortlessly into place despite the faint sheen of sweat on his brow. He smiled as he looked at Taerae, clearly amused.

Taerae straightened up, brushing off his jeans and throwing the guy a pointed look. “What’s it to you?” he muttered, more grumpy than he intended.

“Nothing,” the guy said with a casual shrug, though the glint in his eyes suggested otherwise. “I’ll let the owner know you’re here.” Without waiting for a reply, he picked up the tools and disappeared into the guesthouse, leaving Taerae standing awkwardly with the cat still purring at his feet. Taerae frowned, registering the brief interaction. Tall, confident, probably good at everything, he thought dismissively. He ignored the brief flicker of interest that registered in his mind.

Not interested. Not here for that.

A few minutes later, the guesthouse door swung open again, and this time, a petite, silver-haired woman emerged. She wore a colorful floral apron over a simple blouse, and her face was bright with a smile that deepened the faint laugh lines around her eyes. “Welcome, dear!” she said warmly, clasping her hands together as she approached him. “I’m Ms. Park, the owner here.”

Taerae offered a polite nod as she handed him a clipboard with a basic agreement about his stay. Ms. Park spoke in a soft, motherly tone, making him feel a little less on edge as she explained the guesthouse rules. Once he’d signed, she gestured for him to follow. “Come, I’ll show you around.”

The tour was quick but thorough. She pointed out the common area first— cozy couches arranged around a coffee table, a long wooden dining table by the window, and a bookshelf filled with mismatched novels. The bathrooms were shared but spotless, with soft, floral-scented hand towels neatly stacked inside. Finally, she led him to his room. It was small but clean, with a single bed, a desk by the window, and floral-patterned curtains that reminded him of his grandmother’s house. “It’s not much, but I hope you’ll feel comfortable,” Ms. Park said kindly.

Back in the common area, Ms. Park laid out the schedule for the day. “You arrived early, so you have some time to rest or explore before the afternoon games. We’ll have team activities, a barbecue in the evening, and stargazing later on.”

As she spoke, Taerae’s stomach betrayed him with a loud, unmistakable grumble. He froze, cheeks flushing, while Ms. Park chuckled warmly. “You must be starving,” she said. “Don’t worry— I’ll have someone prepare something for you. Oh, Gunwook!”

The tall guy from earlier reappeared, wiping his hands on a rag as he stepped into the room. “Can you whip up something quick for this young man here? He hasn’t eaten yet.”

Gunwook’s gaze flicked to Taerae, his mouth tugging into a lopsided smile. “Sure thing. Follow me.”

Taerae found himself sitting at a small wooden table near the kitchen as Gunwook moved around, fixing him a simple meal. The faint smell of broth and rice filled the air, soothing and warm. Gunwook finally set a bowl of steaming porridge in front of him and leaned casually against the counter, arms crossed. “Eat up. You look like you need it.”

As Taerae began eating, the warmth of the food made him feel less irritable. Gunwook watched him quietly before speaking again. “So, how do you find this place so far?”

Taerae frowned mid-bite, reluctant to talk but not rude enough to ignore him. “Fine.”

“That's good.. ah– you know the rule here, right?” Gunwook asked, smiling when Taerae looked at him blankly. “No names, no ages, no jobs until the barbecue. Everyone uses nicknames and we'll guess during the party. Keeps it fun.”

“That’s stupid,” Taerae muttered, earning a laugh from Gunwook.

“Stupid or not, you need a nickname,” Gunwook said, clearly amused. “Got one?”

Taerae glared at him, spoon pausing in the bowl. He’s annoying, he thought, but he couldn’t entirely deny the small flicker of interest he felt toward Gunwook’s confidence— something so natural it almost made Taerae forget his own irritation.

Taerae stared at Gunwook over the rim of his bowl, chewing slowly as if to delay answering. A nickname? He hadn’t thought about that. “I don’t know,” he mumbled finally, setting the spoon down. “I’m not really in the mood for games.”

Gunwook quirked an eyebrow, clearly unbothered by Taerae’s lack of enthusiasm. “Suit yourself. You’ve got time to think of one, though I’ll have to call you something until then.” He tapped a finger on the countertop as if considering. “How about... City Boy? That sweater screams Seoul.”

Taerae’s face twisted into a scowl. “City Boy? Seriously?”

“Seriously.” Gunwook grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “You don’t like it, come up with something better.”

Taerae huffed, deciding it wasn’t worth arguing. Instead, he turned his attention back to the porridge, his appetite slowly returning as the warmth settled in his stomach. Gunwook, for his part, didn’t press for conversation, busying himself with wiping down the counter or sneaking glances in Taerae’s direction.

The quiet wasn’t awkward, but it was noticeable. Taerae realized that Gunwook had a certain presence about him—something unshakable and steady. He didn’t fidget or fill silences with unnecessary chatter, which should’ve been annoying but oddly wasn’t. Taerae tried not to think about why.

Once the bowl was empty, Taerae leaned back in his chair, satisfied but still guarded. “Thanks for the food,” he muttered, his voice quieter now.

Gunwook nodded. “No problem. Feel better now?”

“A little.”

Gunwook pushed himself off the counter and grabbed the empty bowl. “Good. You’re gonna need the energy later. Team games here aren’t a joke. Ms. Park doesn’t mess around when she’s handing out coupons.”

“Coupons?” Taerae asked, confused.

“Yeah. You win team activities, you get coupons to trade for extra perks on your next visit— like free coffee in the mornings. It’s all part of the experience.”

Taerae shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips despite himself. “Sounds ridiculous,” he said, sure that there won't be a next visit.

“Maybe,” Gunwook replied with a shrug. “But it’s fun. You’ll see.”

Gunwook glanced out the window, where the sunlight had grown stronger, painting the fields in golden streaks. “You’ve got some free time to kill. Walk around, take a nap—whatever you feel like.”

Taerae didn’t respond right away. The idea of “free time” still felt strange, like he was supposed to be doing something instead of just.. being. He picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, feeling Gunwook’s gaze lingering as he stood. “I’ll figure something out,” he said simply.

“Alright, City Boy,” Gunwook replied, leaning against the doorway with that same lazy confidence. “Don’t get lost.”

Taerae rolled his eyes and left the kitchen, though the faint sound of Gunwook’s chuckle followed him out.

—

Outside, the guesthouse grounds felt bigger than they looked at first. A stone path led around the building, past rows of wildflowers and neatly trimmed bushes. Beyond that, the landscape opened up into endless green fields and patches of tall trees swaying in the gentle breeze. It was quiet, save for the occasional chirp of birds or the distant hum of a tractor from a neighboring farm.

Taerae walked slowly, hands in his pockets, his gaze drawn to the scenery. It felt like stepping into another world— a slower, simpler one where nothing pressed on his shoulders or demanded his attention. He stopped at a wooden bench near the fence and sat down, sighing as he looked out at the hills.

Matthew was right, he thought begrudgingly. It’s nice here.

But being alone with his thoughts wasn’t always a good thing. He found his mind wandering back to the breakup, to the things he didn’t want to think about. To shake it off, he reached for his phone, intending to scroll through something mindless— only to remember the guesthouse rules about unplugging and leaving digital distractions behind.

“Right,” he muttered, tossing the phone back into his bag.

Before he could stew too long in his own irritation, a familiar meow broke the silence. The fat orange cat from earlier waddled toward him again, hopping onto the bench like it owned the spot beside him. Taerae stared, incredulous, but couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped him. “You again? What, are you stalking me now?”

The cat stretched out lazily and blinked at him, completely unbothered. Taerae reached out to pet its soft fur, and the purring started almost immediately. “Fine, I’ll allow it,” he murmured, feeling his shoulders relax slightly.

“Making friends with Nini already?”

Taerae looked up sharply, caught off guard. Gunwook stood a few steps away, hands tucked casually into his pockets. He wasn’t wearing an apron this time, and Taerae wondered if he’d finished his chores or just decided to wander outside too.

“Nini?” Taerae echoed.

Gunwook grinned, nodding toward the cat. “That’s his name. He came with the place. Thinks he owns it.”

“Well, he’s not wrong,” Taerae muttered, scratching under Nini's chin and earning a louder purr. “He’s the only one around here that’s friendly.”

“Hey,” Gunwook said, feigning offense. “I’ve been plenty friendly.”

Taerae shot him a pointed look. “Calling me City Boy doesn’t count.”

Gunwook laughed, the sound light and easy. “You’re still on about that?” He leaned against the fence nearby, the sunlight catching the edges of his profile. “I can’t help it. You look like you belong in a coffee shop, not here.”

Taerae didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. “You look like you belong in a farm brochure.”

Gunwook raised an eyebrow, clearly taking it as a compliment. “Thanks. I’ll take that.”

Taerae sighed, leaning back against the bench. “Aren’t you supposed to be working or something?”

“Done for now,” Gunwook replied easily. “Ms. Park’s showing the other guests around. Thought I’d check up on you, see if you were planning to ditch already.”

Taerae glanced at him sideways, frowning. “You think I’d do that?”

Gunwook smirked, pushing off the fence. “You looked like you were plotting it when you first got here.”

He wasn’t wrong, but Taerae wasn’t about to admit that. Instead, he turned his attention back to Nini, letting his fingers trail lazily through the cat’s fur. “Well, I’m still here,” he said, a little more defensively than intended.

“Good,” Gunwook replied, heading back toward the guesthouse. “We’ll see if you last until the evening games, City Boy.”

Taerae watched him go, annoyed at how easily Gunwook got under his skin yet again. He glanced down at Nini, who looked perfectly content beside him. “What’s his deal, huh?” The cat offered no answers, only another lazy blink, leaving Taerae alone to stew in his thoughts.

After finishing his walk outside, Taerae returned to his room, feeling pleasantly full from the porridge Gunwook had made earlier. The weight of the food and the warmth of the sun had settled into his body, pulling him toward sleep like an invisible force. It wasn’t like him to nap in the middle of the day, but with some time left before the so-called team games, he let himself sink into the surprisingly comfortable bed.

The sound of birds outside the window was the last thing he heard before drifting off, his mind blissfully empty for the first time in a while.

—

What felt like only moments later, Taerae stirred at the sensation of something tapping his cheek. Groggily, he opened his eyes, squinting up at the blurry figure leaning over him. He blinked, focusing just in time to catch Gunwook grinning down at him, one finger lazily poking at the dimple in his cheek.

“Rise and shine, City Boy,” Gunwook announced, clearly amused by Taerae’s confused expression.

Taerae jolted upright immediately, his face heating up. “What are you doing?” He rubbed at his cheek instinctively, scowling. “Don’t poke people like that.”

“Couldn’t help it. You were knocked out,” Gunwook said, entirely unbothered. He straightened, holding a bundle of clothes under his arm. “Games are starting soon. I brought your outfit.”

Taerae narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Outfit?”

Gunwook tossed the bundle onto the edge of the bed with a dramatic flair. “Ahjumma pants, white shirt, vest— you’ll fit right in.”

Taerae picked up the pants first, holding the loose, floral fabric between his fingers. Bright pink hibiscus flowers. He stared at Gunwook like he’d lost his mind. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m not.” Gunwook shrugged, turning toward the door. “Oh, and there’s a nametag too. Just a little something I whipped up.”

Before Taerae could respond, Gunwook clipped a small tag onto the vest and turned it so Taerae could see. In neat, bold letters, it read City Boy.

Taerae groaned, flopping back against the bed. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” Gunwook admitted with a grin. “Hurry up and change. Everyone’s already at the field, so I’ll wait outside.”

With that, Gunwook disappeared through the door, leaving Taerae alone with the offending outfit.

Taerae sighed, staring at the floral pants again before finally giving in. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice. He slipped into the clothes, hesitating only briefly before shrugging on the vest and clipping on the nametag. Standing in front of the small mirror mounted to the wall, he studied his reflection, lips twitching in reluctant amusement.

As much as he hated to admit it, the outfit was comfortable— ridiculously so. The pants were loose and breezy, and the vest, though a little old-fashioned, felt oddly fitting for the rural setting. He tugged at the hem of the shirt, still judging himself when a quiet thought slipped into his mind: It’s kind of cute, actually.

Shaking his head, he grabbed his things and stepped outside. Gunwook was leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed, but when he looked up and saw Taerae, his lips curled into an unmistakable smile.

“What?” Taerae asked warily, though he already knew.

“You look adorable.”

“Don’t say that.”

Gunwook only chuckled, unbothered by the sharp glare Taerae shot his way. “Come on, everyone’s waiting.” He turned, guiding Taerae toward the path that led to the field. As they walked, Gunwook placed a hand gently on Taerae’s back, steering him forward.

Taerae stiffened immediately, the touch sending an uncomfortable shiver up his spine. He quickened his pace instinctively, slipping just out of reach while pretending not to notice. Gunwook paused for half a second, frowning slightly before realization dawned on him. He dropped his hand, stuffing it into his pocket instead.

“Sorry,” he said casually, as if it were an afterthought. “I’ll let you walk at your own speed.”

Taerae didn’t respond, too focused on the knot in his chest finally loosening. He appreciated Gunwook’s quick understanding, though, even if he wouldn’t say it aloud.

—

The field was buzzing with low chatter and laughter by the time they arrived. Taerae slowed his steps as they neared, taking in the small group gathered in the center. Five other guests, all wearing variations of the same ahjumma-themed outfit, turned to glance at them. Their nametags stood out immediately, plastered to each person’s vest in bold, handwritten letters.

Taerae swallowed his awkwardness and offered a polite bow, mumbling, “Hello.”

Gunwook clapped him on the shoulder, grinning. “This is City Boy, everyone!”

Taerae shot him a glare before his gaze drifted across the other guests. Some of the nametags were normal enough— Kitty, Workaholic, Big Hands. Others, however, were questionable.

His eyes landed on a middle-aged man with wild hair whose nametag proudly read Albert Einstein, and he had to suppress a snort. Then there was an older woman whose tag said Sassy Granny, which felt oddly fitting, judging by the way she cackled at something nearby.

“What did I get myself into?” Taerae muttered under his breath.

“You’ll fit right in,” Gunwook teased, clearly enjoying Taerae’s discomfort.

“Alright, gather up!” a loud voice called, cutting through the chatter. Junhyeon, one of the staff members, stepped forward, his nametag displaying Crush— a clear reference to the singer. He stood with the energy of a natural referee, a whistle dangling around his neck. “We’re splitting into two teams for today’s games. Squirtle and Ddok will be the team leaders, and I’ll be the referee.”

Gunwook and Gyuvin, whose nametag simply read Squirtle and Ddok, stepped forward with matching mischievous smiles.

“We’ll pick teams with rock-paper-scissors,” Junhyeon explained.

The two staff members squared off, playing three quick rounds before Gunwook emerged victorious. “Guess I’m first,” he said smugly, turning toward the group. His gaze immediately found Taerae, and his grin widened.

“City Boy, you’re with me.”

A sigh escaped Taerae's lips. Well, shit.

Chapter Text

“City Boy, you're with me.”

Taerae groaned softly, trudging toward Gunwook with all the reluctance of someone walking to their doom. As he reached him, however, his eyes caught the bold letters on Gunwook’s nametag: Squirtle.

Despite himself, a smile tugged at Taerae’s lips.

“What?” Gunwook asked, catching the expression.

“Your nickname suits you,” Taerae admitted, smirking faintly. “You do kind of look like a Squirtle.”

Gunwook blinked, momentarily stunned before bursting into a soft laughter. “Is that a compliment?”

“No, what– I don't know, whatever..” Taerae replied, shaking his head.

—

Once the teams were chosen, Junhyeon stepped back into the center of the field, raising his hands for attention. “Alright! Listen up. We’ll be playing a series of relay games, and the winning team gets special coupons for your next visit!”

Excited murmurs rippled through the group, and Taerae felt a twinge of competitiveness boiling up despite himself.

As Junhyeon launched into a detailed explanation of the games and rules, Taerae let his gaze wander briefly, catching sight of Gunwook and Gyuvin exchanging playful banter. Even Junhyeon chimed in occasionally, throwing teasing remarks their way. It was obvious how close the three of them were— like siblings sharing inside jokes.

Watching them, Taerae felt a little out of place, but he couldn’t deny the warmth of it all. Maybe— just maybe— this wouldn’t be so bad after all.

—

The games began with much anticipation in the air, the teams buzzing with energy.

First Game: Wheelbarrow Race

Junhyeon— Crush— explained the rules with an exaggerated game-show flair, arms wide as if addressing a stadium crowd. "Alright, teams! The heaviest player will be in the wheelbarrow. Everyone else takes turns pushing. Fastest team to reach the cone and come back wins!"

Gunwook glanced at his team and sighed dramatically, "I’ll take one for the team, guys."

Taerae couldn't hold back his laughter, his trixie-like cackle breaking through. "Isn’t that too obvious, Squirtle?" he teased, eyeing Gunwook’s broad frame with a grin. Gunwook only grinned back, flexing for effect.

Gunwook climbed into the wheelbarrow, knees up, hands clutching the sides. "Push carefully. If I fall, city boy, you owe me snacks for life."

Taerae rolled his eyes, stepping up first to push. "Yeah, yeah. Just don't yell."

It was chaos from the start– both his team members struggling to push Gunwook with the wheelbarrow, until it was finally Taerae's turn. His slender frame visibly struggled to push the wheelbarrow forward. "Shit— I thought you'd be lighter than this," he groaned, earning cheers and laughter from both teams.

“Blame the muscles!” Gunwook shot back, laughing shamelessly.

By the time Taerae managed to push to the halfway cone, his arms were shaking. Gyuvin's team was already way ahead, their member being much lighter. As Gunwook climbed out after the game, Taerae flopped onto the grass.

"We’re doomed.." he huffed dramatically.

Gunwook nudged his foot with his. "Hey, you didn't do so bad."

Taerae threw a weak glare his way but couldn’t help smiling as the others burst out laughing.

Second Game: Potato Sack Race

Determined to redeem themselves, Gunwook fired up the team before the next round.

"Alright, this is about speed. Let’s not embarrass ourselves twice!”

Taerae grinned, tying the potato sack snug around his waist. "I’ll carry us, trust.”

The whistle blew, and off they went, hopping like wild rabbits across the field. Taerae, the last one to go, was surprisingly quick, his competitive side flaring up as he shouted, “Faster, faster!” to himself with the kind of urgency reserved for life-or-death scenarios.

"Why are you so loud?!" Gunwook yelled from the other end, laughing as he watched.

The team worked together flawlessly, overtaking Gyuvin’s team just before the finish line. Taerae collapsed dramatically again, sweat lining his forehead but a satisfied grin on his face.

Gunwook pointed at him, chuckling. "You’re scary when you get like this."

“I aim to win.” Taerae flashed his dimples, the smile so radiant Gunwook couldn’t help but laugh back.

Third Game: Chicken Fight

Junhyeon explained the rules with an added flourish: stand on one leg, hold the other up, and try to knock the other player off balance.

Gunwook grinned mischievously. “City Boy, you’re up.”

Taerae’s face scrunched up. “Why me?”

“Because you’re the most annoying when you’re competitive. Use it,” Gunwook shot back with a wink.

The crowd cheered as Taerae stepped up against the opposing player— a tall, lanky guest whose nametag read Workaholic. Taerae eyed the name and snorted.

“Workaholic, huh?” he teased, lifting his leg into position. “I’ll show you who works better.”

The whistle blew, and the game turned chaotic. Taerae hopped in circles, taunting Workaholic with exaggerated movements. “Catch me if you can!” he teased, his playful smirk making the crowd laugh.

“Oi, stop jumping around! Save your energy!” Gunwook shouted, doubled over in laughter.

“Strategy!” Taerae shot back, his voice high-pitched as he hopped closer and pushed Workaholic lightly, throwing him off. The opponent wobbled before planting both feet firmly on the ground, losing the game.

The crowd erupted in cheers as Taerae pumped his fist in the air, dimples deep as his wide grin stretched across his face. Without thinking, he turned and ran straight to Gunwook, throwing up both hands for a high five.

Gunwook blinked, momentarily surprised, but met Taerae’s hands with a loud clap. “Great job!” he said with a laugh, matching Taerae’s excitement.

It was only a second later that Taerae realized what he’d done— initiating touch so freely. He froze briefly, cheeks heating up, before naturally pulling away with a slight cough and brushing his hands on his pants.

“Good job, Squirtle,” he muttered, playing it off as if nothing happened.

Gunwook glanced at him thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at his lips. Maybe Taerae wasn’t as closed-off as he seemed— at least not when he was having fun.

—

The games ended with a mix of cheers, groans, and scattered applause. As the group trudged back toward the guesthouse, a comfortable tiredness lingered in the air. The sun had started to dip lower, painting the rural fields in gold and orange hues.

Inside, the staff had prepared cold sikhye— sweet rice punch— for everyone, the condensation on the glasses glistening under the soft light. Taerae picked one up, his fingers brushing against the cool glass before taking a tentative sip. The first taste was subtly sweet, the grains of soaked rice floating gently on top. It was refreshing, calming even– a contrast to the hectic games earlier.

He settled onto a floor cushion near the low wooden table, stretching his legs with a satisfied sigh as the staff handed out the winners’ coupons. The rectangular slips of paper were bright orange, with bold lettering that read:

Extra Perk Coupon: For Your Next Visit to Country Town!

Taerae turned it over in his hand, lips pressing into a thin line. "Next visit..” he thought, flicking at the edge of the coupon. The chances of him ever coming back here were slim to none. If it weren’t for Matthew forcing him out of his gaming cave, he wouldn’t have come in the first place. He exhaled slowly, mulling over the idea of gifting it to someone else— maybe that one overly-enthusiastic guy from the other team— until Gunwook’s voice cut into his thoughts.

“You look like you’re plotting something,” Gunwook teased, plopping down across from him with his own glass of sikhye.

Taerae blinked, quickly slipping the coupons into his pocket. “Plotting? Who, me?”

“Yeah. Your face does this thing where you’re lost in your own world. It's funny.” Gunwook tilted his head slightly, smiling faintly. “You enjoyed the games, right?”

Taerae shrugged nonchalantly, swirling the remaining rice grains in his drink. “It was.. fine.”

Gunwook raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Just fine? You were grinning like a kid in a candy store during the chicken fight.”

“That’s just my competitive spirit–” Taerae shot him a playful glare, the corners of his lips betraying a smile. “It’s not that serious.”

“Mhm.” Gunwook leaned back on his hands, his voice light but his gaze observant. “Well, you seemed more yourself out there. Happier, I guess.”

Taerae faltered for a moment, the words catching him off guard. Happier? He hadn’t even realized. He ducked his head, pretending to inspect his drink. “Don’t overanalyze it. It’s just games,” he mumbled.

Gunwook hummed in response, not pressing the issue. Instead, he shifted the subject. “The coupons are pretty nice though, huh?”

Taerae snorted softly. “Yeah.. I don't know if I'll ever use it though.”

“Why not? The air’s nice, the food’s good… and the company’s interesting.” Gunwook grinned pointedly at him.

Taerae rolled his eyes but found himself smiling again. Interesting company, huh? Before he could come up with a snarky reply, the staff brought out small plates of radish pancakes— crispy and golden on the outside, with a savory aroma that made Taerae’s stomach grumble. He bit into one, the texture light and crunchy, and for a while, the two of them sat in silence, letting the quiet hum of chatter and clinking glasses fill the space.

The staff then announced that the guests could wash up and relax before the evening barbecue party. Taerae seized the opportunity, deciding to head to his room for a much-needed rest and shower. “See you in a bit, Squirtle,” he said, referring to the barbeque party.

“See you, City Boy.”

—

By the time Taerae stepped back into the common area, hair still damp and glasses perched on his nose, he felt noticeably… smaller. The loose sweatpants, plain white shirt, and his soft glasses frames screamed nerdy college kid, very much unlike the competitive fire he’d shown earlier during the games.

He didn’t mind. If anything, blending into the background suited him now.

The common room bustled with energy. A few guests sat around chatting, while others hovered near the shelves filled with board games and old magazines. Nini was wandering freely, and Taerae found himself gravitating toward the cat.

“Come here, Nini,” he murmured, patting the floor. The cat trotted over and plopped itself next to him. Taerae scratched behind its ears absentmindedly, glancing around the room. He spotted a guest sitting alone and struck up a casual conversation, asking vague, probing questions— “Where are you from? Why are you here?”— his mind already analyzing their potential age and occupation for the guessing game later.

As he wandered the common room, Taerae couldn’t help but notice one thing: Gunwook was nowhere to be seen. He caught glimpses of the other staff moving in and out, setting up tables and carrying trays, but Gunwook— usually impossible to miss— had seemingly disappeared.

He’s probably helping with the barbecue prep, Taerae reasoned, dismissing the thought with a shrug.

But a tiny, nagging part of him noticed the absence a little too much.

As the sun dipped further below the horizon, the room grew quieter, guests filtering in and out to prepare for the barbecue party. Taerae remained in his spot with Nini, absentmindedly twirling the cat's fluffy tail between his fingers as he waited for the evening activity to begin.

—

One of the staffs finally called everyone to gather in the yard. A large pyeong-sang— a traditional flat wooden table, weathered by years of use— was set up under the open sky. Around it, smaller tables were arranged to hold food and drinks. It was cozy and.. communal.

Taerae stretched his arms and yawned before stepping outside. The warm, savory scent of grilled meat greeted him immediately, making his stomach growl. His eyes wandered until they landed on Gunwook. There he was, standing by the grill, turning skewers and flipping meat over the crackling flames.

Gunwook’s cheeks were flushed from the heat, and his damp hair stuck to his forehead, making him look boyish yet striking in the glow of the fire. Taerae’s gaze lingered longer than he intended, noticing the natural blush on Gunwook’s face that he’d seen earlier during the games. Only now, combined with the sheen of sweat on his skin and the way his shirt clung to his back, did it strike Taerae how… attractive Gunwook looked.

Taerae quickly shook his head and frowned at himself. What the hell? Stop staring, he thought, forcing his eyes away just as Gunwook glanced up briefly and smiled at him. Taerae’s heart skipped a beat, and he scolded himself again.

—

Everyone gathered around the table as Junhyeon and Gyuvin served freshly grilled meat, samgyeopsal (pork belly), and galbi (marinated ribs), along with an array of Korean barbecue staples: kimchi, fresh lettuce, ssamjang (spicy dipping sauce), and bowls of steaming rice. Bottles of maekju (beer) and soju were passed around, and Ms. Park cheerfully joined the crowd, occasionally sneaking a piece of meat off the grill when Gunwook wasn’t looking.

“Alright, everyone,” Gyuvin clapped his hands, standing at the head of the table like an emcee. “Tonight, we’re feasting on all the good stuff, so eat as much as you can! And to make things fun, we’ve prepared some games too!”

The group cheered, the air buzzing with excitement as plates were passed, glasses clinked, and laughter filled the space.

Taerae stole a glance at Gunwook, who was still manning the grill despite everyone urging him to take a break. Gunwook looked completely in his element, occasionally bantering with Junhyeon and Ms. Park as they cooked. Taerae caught himself smiling when Gunwook grumbled about being the “resident barbecue slave” while serving Junhyeon another plate of meat.

—

After the meal, Gyuvin announced, “Alright! Time for the guessing game! Let’s see how many of you are undercover spies!”

The rules were simple: everyone would guess each other’s age and occupation. The first surprise of the night was the guest nicknamed “Albert Einstein.” His wild hair had everyone convinced he was a just a quirky man, but he revealed he was an actual scientist working on environmental technology. “Sassy Granny,” who cracked jokes all night, turned out to be a no-nonsense judge.

Gunwook, Junhyeon, and Gyuvin admitted they were college friends on a semester break, working part-time at the guesthouse for free accommodations. Taerae was amused to find out Gunwook, the youngest, was three years younger than him.

“You’ve been speaking so casually to me this whole time, huh?” Taerae teased, grinning.

Gunwook raised an eyebrow, unfazed. “Should I start calling you hyung then?”

“Nah, it’s too late now,” Taerae smirked.

When it was Taerae’s turn, the guesses ranged from college student to freelance photographer. Gunwook confidently guessed, “Graphic designer or something artsy, maybe?”

Taerae shook his head. “Close. I’m a.. musician.”

The table erupted into exclamations of surprise, but Gunwook’s reaction stood out. He choked on his drink and coughed, staring at Taerae. “You? A musician?”

One of the guests, intrigued, asked, “Do you play the guitar?”

“Yes,” Taerae admitted, hesitating.

Ms. Park perked up. “We have a guitar in the house! You should play for us!”

Everyone cheered in agreement, but Taerae froze. He hadn’t touched a guitar in weeks— not since the breakup. The thought of holding one brought a wave of bittersweet memories crashing over him.

Still, he didn’t want to disappoint. With a deep breath, he agreed.

As the guests rearranged their seats, Taerae found himself on a stool with the guitar in his lap. He strummed the strings lightly, adjusting them until they were just right. His hands trembled slightly, but he steadied them, willing himself to focus.

After a pause, he began to play.

The moment the opening chords of “Sudden Shower” by ECLIPSE filled the air, the crowd fell silent. The melody was soft, and Taerae’s voice— warm, deep, and honey-like— wrapped around the notes like a tender embrace.

Painful memories that I wanted to forget
잊고 싶던 아픈 기억들도

Just let it go with the raindrops
빗방울과 함께 흘려보내면 돼요

Even if I'm tired sometimes, even if the sky is cloudy
때로는 지쳐도, 하늘이 흐려도

don't forget that i exist
내가 있다는 걸 잊지 말아요

Gunwook was mesmerized. He’d seen glimpses of Taerae’s personality all day— playful, competitive, and guarded— but this was different. Under the dim glow of the yard lights, Taerae’s vulnerability shone through. His voice carried the weight of heartbreak.

Gunwook couldn’t take his eyes off him. Every note, every word pulled him deeper. For a moment, he forgot about the other guests, the party, and the world around them. All he could see was Taerae, pouring his heart into the song.

I’m in trouble, Gunwook thought, his chest tightening.

When the song ended, the crowd erupted into applause, but Gunwook couldn’t bring himself to join them. His heart was too busy trying to catch up with the realization he’d just had.

He was falling for Taerae.

Chapter Text

The incident had taken place three weeks ago, but it haunted Taerae like it had just happened yesterday. It had started with what should have been a joyous moment— his boyfriend, Minjae, announcing that he’d landed a solo gig at a prestigious event, DreamStage.

They had been sitting on the rooftop of Taerae’s apartment, their usual hideaway. The night sky was a tapestry of stars, the pizza box between them nearly empty save for a lone slice. Minjae’s shoulders were hunched, his fingers toying with the soda can in his hands. Taerae had noticed his odd demeanor, the way he seemed lost in thought, but he’d chalked it up to the stress of their busking gigs lately.

When Minjae finally spoke, his voice was hesitant, almost reluctant. “I… got an offer. A solo gig.”

Taerae’s head snapped up, his brows lifting in surprise. “What? That’s amazing! Where?”

Minjae hesitated, avoiding Taerae’s gaze. “DreamStage.”

The name alone made Taerae’s chest swell with pride. “DreamStage? Minjae, that’s huge!” He beamed, his excitement radiating. “I can’t believe it— this is exactly what you deserve! What’s the song? Do you need help rehearsing? Oh, we should pick an outfit that really makes you stand out—”

Minjae didn’t meet his enthusiasm. He shook his head slightly. “I’ve got it handled. It’s… already set.”

Something in his tone made Taerae falter, but he brushed it off. “Okay, but I’m coming to cheer you on,” he said firmly, already imagining himself in the crowd. “When is it?”

When Minjae told him the date, Taerae’s excitement dimmed. “That’s the same day as my gig..” he said, his voice trailing off in disappointment.

“You should go to yours,” Minjae said quickly, his tone oddly curt. “We can’t afford to be cancelling gigs just to support each other.”

The words stung. Taerae opened his mouth to argue, to tell Minjae he’d find a way, but something in the way Minjae said it— firm, unyielding— made him stop. “Yeah,” he muttered, his chest tight. “I guess you’re right.”

Taerae and Minjae had been inseparable since their first year of high school. They had met in the music club, where Minjae’s smooth vocals had first caught Taerae’s attention. They started out as duet partners for school events, their voices blending so effortlessly that even their club advisor had called them a perfect match. What started as a shared passion for music quickly blossomed into something deeper. By their second year, they were busking together on weekends, singing their hearts out on busy streets and quiet park corners. Their chemistry on stage mirrored the bond they shared offstage, a partnership that felt unbreakable.

They weren’t just lovers; they were a team. They wrote songs together, critiqued each other’s performances, and shared their dreams of making it big someday. When one landed a solo gig, the other was always in the audience, cheering louder than anyone else. But the last few months had been different. Minjae had started pulling away, cancelling rehearsals and brushing off Taerae’s concerns with vague excuses. Taerae had tried not to take it personally, but the distance between them was growing, and he didn’t know how to bridge it.

—

Taerae couldn’t stay away. After rearranging his schedule, he managed to reschedule his gig and decided to surprise Minjae at DreamStage. He spent hours deliberating on the perfect gift, finally settling on a bouquet of daisies— Minjae’s favorite flowers. When he arrived at the venue, the atmosphere was electric. The stage lights illuminated Minjae as he performed, his voice rich and powerful, captivating the audience. Taerae watched from the back, his chest swelling with pride and admiration.

This is his moment, Taerae thought, clutching the bouquet tightly. I’m so glad I didn’t miss it.

As the performance ended, Taerae slipped backstage, anticipation bubbling within him. He couldn’t wait to see the look on Minjae’s face when he saw him— but his steps faltered when he heard voices.

“I told you, you’ve got talent. You just needed to leave certain… distractions behind,” a man said, his tone smooth and confident.

“You’ve done so much for me already,” Minjae replied softly, but there was no warmth in his voice.

Taerae rounded the corner cautiously, his heart sinking at the sight before him. Minjae stood with a well-dressed man who had his hand casually resting on Minjae’s waist. The man smiled at Minjae in a way that made Taerae’s stomach churn.

“You deserve this,” the man said, his voice dripping with sincerity. “I’m proud of you, sweetheart.”

Taerae froze when he heard the man call Minjae “sweetheart.” His heart skipped a beat, confusion clouding his thoughts. Sweetheart? Who was this man? He squinted, studying the stranger’s face. Too young to be an uncle. Not his father— Taerae had met Minjae’s father before. Who else would be close enough to him to call him something so intimate? And why was his arm casually draped around Minjae’s waist?

Taerae felt his chest tighten, unease settling in like a heavy weight. He gripped the daisies tighter, their stems bending under the pressure. Something didn’t feel right, but he shook his head, trying to silence the spiraling thoughts. There had to be an explanation.

“Minjae?” he called out, his voice wavering.

Minjae froze at the sound of his name, his eyes widening in shock. He pushed the man’s arm off his waist so quickly it was almost reflexive, turning to face Taerae with a pale, guilty expression.

“Taerae—” Minjae began, stepping toward him, but Taerae instinctively took a step back.

“Stop,” Taerae said, his voice trembling. “Don’t come any closer.”

He looked between the two of them, his gaze darting from Minjae’s panicked face to the man’s smug expression. His chest felt like it was caving in, his mind racing to make sense of what he was seeing. Finally, he asked the question that burned in his throat.

“Are you cheating on me?”

Minjae’s eyes widened further, his lips parting, but no sound came out. He shook his head vehemently. “No! It’s not what you think—”

“Then what is it?” Taerae demanded, his voice breaking. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like it.”

Minjae opened his mouth, but no explanation came. Taerae’s heart sank as realization began to dawn. He turned his attention to the man, his features suddenly clicking into place. He knew him.

“You,” Taerae said, pointing at the man, his voice laced with bitter recognition. “You’re that sponsor who approached Minjae when we were busking a few months ago. The one who said he had connections. Minjae told me he turned down your offer. That you were just trying to scam us.”

The man smiled lazily, unbothered by the accusation. Taerae’s stomach churned. He turned to Minjae, his eyes searching his boyfriend’s face for answers.

“Minjae,” Taerae whispered, his voice trembling. “You lied to me?”

Minjae flinched, guilt flashing across his face.

Taerae felt the pieces fall into place, each one cutting deeper than the last. The late nights. The vague excuses. The way Minjae had started pulling away. His hand trembled as he clutched the daisies, their vibrant colors a stark contrast to the storm brewing inside him.

“You could’ve told me,” Taerae said, his voice breaking. “If this was something you wanted, I would’ve supported you. Why'd you lie? You didn’t even give me a chance to be there for you.”

Minjae dropped his gaze to the ground. “I didn’t think you’d understand,” he muttered.

“Understand what?” Taerae snapped. “That you didn’t trust me? That you thought so little of me— of us— that you’d rather sneak around than just tell me the truth?”

Minjae remained silent, his shoulders slumping.

“I hope it was worth it,” Taerae said bitterly, tears streaming down his face as he turned and walked away. The daisies slipped from his grasp, falling to the ground unnoticed.

—

The memory burned in Taerae’s mind as he sang the final line of Sudden Shower. His voice faltered, the emotions he had tried so hard to suppress finally catching up to him. Tears welled in his eyes, spilling over just as his fingers strummed the last chord. The crowd erupted into applause, cheering and clapping at first, their faces alight with appreciation. But as the noise and applause slowed down, they began to notice— Taerae was crying.

Taerae turned his back on them almost immediately, his head bowing as he tried to compose himself. His shoulders shook as he took in sharp, uneven breaths, his trembling fingers brushing at his cheeks in a futile attempt to erase the evidence. His nose was tinged red, his pale skin flushed, and his tear-streaked face looked heartbreakingly delicate. Even in his vulnerability, there was an unearthly beauty to him— a grace that made it impossible to look away.

What am I doing? he thought, his chest tightening further. We should be having fun. The realization only made the ache worse. The festive atmosphere felt stifling now, the weight of his emotions too much to bear.

Gunwook had been watching him from across the crowd, unable to tear his gaze away since the moment Taerae started singing. He had been captivated by his voice, but now it was something else entirely that drew him in. Without thinking, Gunwook stood, his feet moving as though compelled by an invisible force, and by the time he reached Taerae, he was kneeling in front of him, his hand hovering awkwardly in mid-air as he searched for the right words.

“Hyung?” Gunwook said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, careful not to startle him.

Taerae froze, his watery gaze reluctantly lifting to meet Gunwook’s. For a moment, all he could see was the concern etched into Gunwook’s face— his deep, earnest eyes filled with an emotion Taerae couldn’t name, his lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something more but didn’t know how. His chest heaved, and the lump in his throat swelled unbearably. “Gunwook-” he choked out, his voice cracking.

And then the dam broke.

Tears spilled freely down Taerae’s cheeks, his soft cries quickly escalating into unrestrained sobs. His hands flew to his face, covering his red-rimmed eyes as he tried— and failed— to stifle the sound. His shoulders trembled violently, and he hiccupped between breaths, the weight of his emotions too much to contain.

Gunwook panicked for a split second. What do I do? He glanced around, the partygoers staring in stunned silence. Then, with a deep breath, he gently placed a hand on Taerae’s shoulder, his touch firm yet soothing. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “You’re okay. Let it out.”

He caught Gyuvin’s eye from across the group and gave a subtle nod toward the crowd. Gyuvin blinked before quickly springing into action.

“Alright, everyone!” Gyuvin clapped his hands, his grin wide and disarming. “Let’s keep the fun going! Who’s up for charades?” He practically dragged Junhyeon into the spotlight, earning a few tentative laughs. Slowly, the tension began to ease, and the chatter and laughter resumed.

Meanwhile, Gunwook gently set the guitar aside and stood, holding onto Taerae’s arm. “Come on,” he said quietly. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”

Taerae nodded weakly, his cries softening into sniffles as he allowed Gunwook to guide him away. They walked to the far side of the guesthouse, where a small bench sat under the shade of a tree, partially hidden from view. The faint sound of the party carried on the breeze, but it felt a world away. Taerae sat with his knees pulled to his chest, resting his arms loosely over them. His voice came out soft and unsteady as he broke the silence.

“I’m such a mess right now,” he said, staring blankly at the ground. “I feel so… lost.”

He turned his head to look at Gunwook, his tired smile pulling at his lips. Despite the faint puffiness under his eyes and the redness lingering on his nose, Taerae still managed to look breathtaking. His vulnerability gave him an almost ethereal glow under the soft moonlight, and for a moment, Gunwook couldn’t look away.

When Gunwook had first seen Taerae earlier that day, he’d thought he was cute— a bit grumpy, but progressively bright and cheerful, if not a little intense during the games. But now, seeing him like this, so close and so raw, Gunwook felt something unfamiliar bloom in his chest. The warmth was undeniable, making his throat tighten. It took him a beat too long to snap out of his thoughts. He cleared his throat, trying to gather himself before Taerae noticed. “It’s okay to feel like that,” he said softly. “Everyone goes through it at some point in their life. You don’t have to have it all together all the time.”

Taerae glanced at him, his expression shifting, almost imperceptibly, as if Gunwook’s words reached someplace deeper inside him.

Gunwook leaned back slightly, resting his weight on his palms. “You know, the thing about being a mess is that it means there’s room to rebuild. Maybe even come out stronger.”

Taerae exhaled a shaky laugh, his lips quirking up in something that wasn’t quite a smile but wasn’t sadness either. “You make it sound so simple.”

“Not simple,” Gunwook admitted, his tone firm but kind. “But possible.”

The sincerity in his voice made Taerae’s chest tighten, and before he could overthink it, the words started spilling out.

“I thought my life was perfect,” Taerae began, his voice barely above a whisper. “I had a career I loved, doing what I was passionate about. And Minjae— he was my everything. We were together for almost seven years. I thought he was my soulmate.”

Gunwook’s brows knit together, but he stayed silent, his eyes never leaving Taerae.

“When I found out he cheated on me…” Taerae’s voice cracked, and he quickly wiped at his eyes. “I didn’t know how to deal with it. I locked myself in my room for three weeks. Didn’t eat properly, didn’t sleep. Just… existed, pushing my rank on League.”

He paused, his fingers gripping the fabric of his pants. “I only came here because my best friend dragged me out of the house and said I needed to heal. Said I couldn’t keep wallowing forever.” He let out a hollow chuckle. “So here I am. Supposed to be healing. Instead, I’m crying to someone I barely know.”

Gunwook hesitated for a fraction of a second before gently rubbing Taerae’s back. He knew Taerae wasn’t fond of physical touch— he’d noticed it earlier in the day— but he didn’t know how else to comfort him. His hand moved in slow, careful circles, silently hoping Taerae wouldn’t pull away.

To his relief, Taerae didn’t. If anything, he seemed to relax slightly under the touch, and when he glanced up at Gunwook, his eyes were glassy but grateful.

“You’re not just crying, hyung,” Gunwook said quietly. “You’re letting it out. And that’s part of healing, too.”

Taerae bit his lip, his gaze dropping again, and Gunwook couldn’t stop himself from adding, almost absentmindedly, “You know, even like this… you’re still really pretty.”

The words hung in the air for a moment too long, and Gunwook’s eyes widened slightly as he realized what he’d just said.

Taerae froze, his cheeks instantly flushing a deep pink. He stared at Gunwook, who was now scratching the back of his neck, clearly flustered. “Uh— sorry, that was—”

“It’s fine,” Taerae interrupted, his voice higher than usual. He looked away, his heart hammering in his chest. Pretty? Did Gunwook really just say that?

Gunwook quickly stood, brushing imaginary dirt off his jeans. “Come with me,” he said, the shift in topic abrupt but welcome. “There’s a better spot for stargazing. It’s a bit of a walk, but I promise it’s worth it.”

Taerae hesitated as Gunwook extended a hand toward him. After a moment, he reached out, slipping his hand into Gunwook’s. The warmth of Gunwook’s palm against his own was startling, but not unpleasant.

Gunwook’s lips quirked up in a small smile. “Let’s go.”

As they walked, Gunwook didn’t let go of Taerae’s hand. It wasn’t intentional— he simply didn’t think to release it. Taerae, on the other hand, was hyper-aware of the contact, his heart thudding with every step. Butterflies flitted wildly in his stomach, leaving him both nervous and giddy.

When they finally arrived, Gunwook let go and stepped forward, turning back to Taerae with his signature gummy smile. The sight made Taerae’s breath catch. The wind tousled Gunwook’s hair, and the stars seemed to frame him perfectly, like something out of a dream.

“You coming?” Gunwook asked, gesturing to the grass.

Taerae blinked, shaking himself out of his daze. “Yeah,” he mumbled, sitting beside Gunwook.

The view was stunning. The stars stretched endlessly above them, unpolluted by city lights. But Taerae found his gaze drifting back to Gunwook more than once.

“Are you going back to performing?” Gunwook asked, breaking the silence.

Taerae sighed softly. “I don’t know. I love singing, but…”

“But you’re scared it’ll hurt again,” Gunwook finished for him.

Taerae nodded, and Gunwook turned to him with a warm expression. “You have a beautiful voice, hyung. It’d be a waste to let that jerk take that away from you.”

Taerae chuckled, a genuine smile breaking through. “Maybe. I’ll think about it.”

They sat there, enveloped in the serenity of the night. The air was cool, carrying the faint scent of pine and wildflowers. The stars twinkled above them like scattered jewels on a velvet canvas. Gunwook occasionally glanced at Taerae, who seemed lost in the beauty of the view. The tension in Taerae's shoulders had melted away, leaving a tranquil expression on his face.

Time passed in silence until Gunwook felt a slight weight against his shoulder. Startled, he turned his head to find Taerae’s head resting there. His breathing was soft and steady— he had fallen asleep.

Gunwook froze for a moment, unsure of what to do. He was acutely aware of how close Taerae was, the warmth radiating from him. His initial reaction was to shift and wake him, but then he stopped. Taerae looked peaceful, his earlier burdens seemingly set aside for the time being. Gunwook couldn’t bring himself to disturb him.

He smiled faintly to himself. He must be exhausted, Gunwook thought. Considering Taerae had barely left his room for weeks before this trip and had thrown himself into the day’s activities with so much energy, it was no wonder he was wiped out. Gunwook could feel the slow creep of discomfort in his arm as Taerae's weight pressed down, but he endured it. Taerae needed this, and Gunwook couldn’t do anything but let him rest.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours before Gunwook softly called out, “Hyung.”

Taerae stirred, his eyelids fluttering open as he jolted upright. His eyes widened in embarrassment as he realized where he had been resting. “Shit, sorry— I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you,” he stammered, his hands flying up to smooth his tousled hair and adjust his shirt.

Gunwook chuckled, his voice low and comforting. “It’s fine. You looked like you needed it.”

Taerae's face flushed as he avoided Gunwook's gaze. “I… I must’ve been really tired,” he admitted, his voice small.

Gunwook stood and stretched out his arms, shaking off the stiffness in his shoulder. “Come on,” he said, offering Taerae a hand. “Let’s head back before we both fall asleep out here.”

Taerae hesitated for a second before taking Gunwook’s hand, letting himself be pulled to his feet. They began their walk back to the guesthouse, the silence between them no longer heavy but comfortable. The faint glow of the guesthouse lights came into view, and with it, the realization that the night was ending.

When they reached the front steps, Gunwook turned to Taerae, a shy smile playing on his lips. “Good night, Taerae hyung.”

Taerae looked at him, his heart inexplicably fluttering at the sound of his name spoken so softly. “Good night, Gunwook,” he replied, his voice just as gentle.

They lingered for a moment, their eyes meeting before Taerae broke the gaze, slipping into his room quickly to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks.

Inside his room, Taerae leaned against the closed door, his chest rising and falling as he tried to calm the erratic beating of his heart. The day’s events replayed in his mind— the conversation, the hidden stargazing spot, Gunwook’s comforting presence, and the way he had let him rest on his shoulder without a word of complaint.

Taerae dropped onto the bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The silence of the room felt loud compared to the warmth he had just left outside.

Gunwook, he thought, the younger man’s smile flashing vividly in his mind. His heart clenched, and he groaned, covering his face with his hands. “What’s wrong with me?” he muttered.

But deep down, he knew the answer. He wasn’t just grateful for Gunwook’s kindness. It was something more, something he hadn’t felt in so long that it scared him.

Was this what falling felt like?

Sleep didn’t come easily that night. Taerae tossed and turned, his thoughts filled with the younger man who had, in the span of a single evening, managed to plant a seed of something he couldn’t quite name but couldn’t ignore.

Chapter Text

The faint chime of a piano melody drifted through the air, soft yet distinct— a sound Taerae had specifically set for Matthew’s texts. Only Matthew’s texts. He groaned and shifted under the covers, his body reluctant to greet the day.

The light streaming through the thin curtains cast a warm glow across the room, and Taerae cracked an eye open. His phone, resting on the nightstand, buzzed again with another reminder of its presence. He fumbled for it, knocking over an almost empty water bottle before finally grabbing the device.

His vision blurred slightly as he blinked at the screen, rubbing his eyes with one hand. The message was from Matthew.

𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗰𝗵𝘂𝘂 [𝟳:𝟭𝟮]
𝗶'𝗹𝗹 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸 𝘂 𝘂𝗽 𝗮𝗳𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗸𝗳𝗮𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘆𝗮.

Taerae let out a small chuckle, the corners of his lips twitching upward. It was such a Matthew thing to say— straight to the point, no unnecessary fluff. Yet, as his laughter faded, the weight in his chest returned.

Leaving already? he thought, staring at the ceiling. He had barely started to feel comfortable here, and now it was almost time to go back to.. what? The void of his apartment? The lingering memories of a relationship he had yet to fully let go of?

He shook his head, trying to dispel the melancholy. At least I didn’t waste my time here, he reminded himself. Despite his initial resistance, this place had been more than he expected. And the thought of leaving wasn’t just heavy because of the guesthouse— it was also because of a.. certain someone.

Gunwook’s face flashed in his mind, unbidden. Taerae sat up abruptly, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Nah, don’t go there,” he muttered to himself.

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he stretched, feeling the dull ache from the games yesterday creep into his muscles. He shuffled toward the bathroom, the wooden floor cool beneath his feet, and splashed his face with water.

The memories of last night’s barbecue party trickled back— laughter, the scent of grilled meat, and the murmurs of staff mentioning an early morning hike. He grabbed a towel and dried his face, glancing at his reflection.

“You’ve got this,” he whispered to himself, his voice soft yet firm. One last thing before you go. Make it count.

Taerae stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the navy-blue hoodie he’d slipped over his head. The soft fabric felt comforting, a subtle barrier against the emotions still lingering from last night. He smoothed out the hem before pulling on his gray joggers, glancing down at his mismatched socks. He frowned but shrugged it off— no one was likely to notice.

He gave his reflection one last look, brushing a hand through his slightly mussed hair, and headed toward the door. Grabbing his sneakers, he carried them out into the hallway.

When he reached the common area, the scent of brewed tea and faint chatter greeted him. A tray of steaming cups sat near the entrance, and Junhyeon was busy handing them out. Taerae set his shoes aside and slipped into the group, earning a cheerful, if slightly hesitant, smile from Junhyeon.

“Good morning! You slept okay, right?” Junhyeon asked, passing him a cup.

Taerae wrapped his hands around the warm ceramic, nodding. “Yeah, I did. Thanks.”

As he sipped the tea, the warmth spread through him, soothing in a way he didn’t expect. He glanced around the room, taking in the quiet buzz of the guests preparing for the hike. A few exchanged small talk while others adjusted their backpacks or stretched lightly.

Gunwook stood near the door, leaning casually against the frame. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms that caught the soft morning light, the contrast against his fair skin making them seem almost glowing. Taerae’s gaze flicked to him briefly before he focused back on his tea, but not fast enough— Gunwook had already noticed.

“You’re up earlier than I thought,” Gunwook said, his voice low but audible over the chatter.

Taerae blinked, caught off guard. “Oh— uh, yeah..” he stammered, quickly lowering his cup. “I didn’t want to miss the hike.”

Gunwook’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good. Wouldn’t want you to miss the view.”

The casual tone made Taerae’s chest tighten with something he couldn’t quite name. Before he could respond, another guest chimed in, their voice cautious.

“You look better this morning,” they said, their gaze scanning Taerae’s face.

Taerae offered a small, polite laugh. “Yeah, I’m fine now. Thanks for checking on me.”

Junhyeon, always the thoughtful one, stepped in. “We were all a bit worried last night,” he said, his voice soft. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” Taerae reassured him, a genuine smile breaking through. “Really. Thank you.”

Gunwook, who had been silent through the exchange, caught Taerae’s gaze again. This time, there was a flicker of something unspoken— understanding, maybe, or quiet encouragement. Taerae felt heat rise to his face and quickly looked away, pretending to adjust his hoodie.

Junhyeon clapped his hands lightly to gather everyone’s attention. “Alright, everyone! Today’s hike is pretty easy— just a short walk up to the lookout point. We’ll take some pictures there before heading back for breakfast.”

There were murmurs of approval as the group started moving. Taerae slipped his sneakers on by the door, wincing slightly as his sore muscles protested. He tied the laces quickly and followed the others outside, the cool morning air brushing against his face like a gentle wake-up call.

Gunwook fell into step beside him, his presence unassuming but noticeable. “You good to go?” Gunwook asked, his tone casual but tinged with curiosity.

Taerae glanced up, meeting his eyes briefly before nodding. “Yeah. Just a little sore, that’s all.”

Gunwook’s lips twitched into a knowing smile. “Yesterday’s games will do that to you. Don’t worry— I’ll make sure you don’t get left behind.”

The comment sent a flush up Taerae’s neck, and he ducked his head, grateful for the distraction of the trail ahead.

—

The trail wound through a forest of tall pine trees, their green needles catching the morning sunlight. The air was cool and fresh, carrying a faint, woodsy scent. Birds chirped somewhere in the distance, adding a lively touch to the quiet surroundings. Taerae was falling behind, struggling to keep up with the others. The inclines weren’t steep, but his muscles were still sore from the games yesterday. He tried to focus on the beauty of the surroundings, but his heavy breaths and burning thighs made it hard to appreciate.

“Hyung, are you sure you’re not auditioning for the next zombie movie?” Gyuvin called from ahead, grinning as he turned back to check on Taerae. “At this rate, you’ll get left behind!”

Taerae shot him a mock glare, opening his mouth to retort, but a familiar voice cut in.

“Oi, don’t tease him,” Gunwook said, walking past Gyuvin and falling into step beside Taerae. He had his Polaroid camera slung over his shoulder, his usual calm expression in place. “You okay, hyung? Want me to carry that bag for you?”

Taerae glanced at his small daypack and shook his head. “I’m fine,” he said, though his voice wavered slightly.

Gunwook didn’t look convinced. Without waiting for permission, he lightly pressed his hand against the small of Taerae’s back, guiding him over a particularly uneven section of the trail.

“..Thanks,” Taerae muttered, feeling a bit self-conscious but secretly relieved at the support.

“No problem,” Gunwook replied with a small smile, keeping pace with him as they continued.

When they reached the scenic spot, the view was breathtaking. Rolling green hills stretched out endlessly, with a light mist still clinging to the lower valleys. The morning sun cast everything in a golden hue, and a gentle breeze carried the faint smell of wildflowers. Most of the group had already spread out. Junhyeon stood near a large oak tree, guiding a guest to the best angle for their Polaroid shot, while Gyuvin was busy cracking jokes as he snapped another guest’s picture.

Taerae wandered toward the edge of the clearing, letting the fresh air fill his lungs. He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the peacefulness of the scene.

Click.

The sudden sound of a camera shutter made his eyes snap open. He turned and found Gunwook standing a few feet away, his Polaroid camera in hand and a faintly guilty look on his face.

“Did you just—” Taerae started, walking over to him.

Gunwook gave him an easy smile. “It was a good moment. I couldn’t resist.”

Taerae frowned, crossing his arms. “You’re not supposed to do that. Junhyeon said every guest only gets one Polaroid shot.”

“This one’s not for the guest album,” Gunwook said with a shrug, slipping the developing Polaroid into his pocket. “It’s for me.”

Taerae blinked, momentarily stunned. “Huh?”

Gunwook’s lips curved into a sly smile. “It’s just a nice picture.”

Still flustered, Taerae didn’t have time to respond before Gunwook held up his camera again. “Okay, your turn. Stand over there so we can get the shot for the album.”

Muttering something under his breath, Taerae walked to the spot Gunwook pointed to. He adjusted his posture awkwardly, trying to look casual but not stiff.

“You don’t have to try so hard,” Gunwook teased as he adjusted the angle of the camera. “Just be yourself.”

With a soft click, the photo was taken. Gunwook handed it to Taerae, who watched as the image slowly developed. His smile in the picture looked more natural than he’d expected, framed by the stunning scenery.

“Thanks,” Taerae said, glancing up at Gunwook.

Gunwook gave a slight nod, his gaze lingering for a moment before turning back to the rest of the group.

—

Taerae sat cross-legged on a smooth patch of grass, the picture Gunwook had taken resting in his hands. The Polaroid was still developing, but the faint outline of his figure against the scenic backdrop was already visible. A soft smile tugged at his lips as he traced the edges of the photo, marveling at how natural and relaxed he appeared— something he rarely felt in front of cameras.

He glanced around, taking in the cheerful buzz of the clearing. Gyuvin was gesturing animatedly to a couple of guests with Gunwook, showing them the best angles for their pictures. Junhyeon, ever the joker, had a group laughing as he pretended to pose dramatically for his own Polaroid shot. The sound of laughter and the click of cameras filled the air, blending with the rustling leaves and distant birdcalls.

Taerae leaned back on his hands, tilting his face toward the sun. The warmth seeped into his skin, and for the first time in a while, he felt at ease. There was something magical about this place— about the way everyone seemed to forget their worries, even if just for a little while.

“Enjoying yourself?”

Taerae opened his eyes to see Gunwook standing nearby, holding his Polaroid camera with one hand.

“You’re done already?” Taerae asked, gesturing toward the other guests.

“They’re all set,” Gunwook replied, his usual calm demeanor softening as he looked at Taerae. “Mind if I sit?”

Taerae shook his head, scooting over slightly to make room. Gunwook settled beside him, pulling something small from his pocket.

“I’ve got something for you,” he said, holding out his hand.

Taerae blinked, surprised, as he looked at the object in Gunwook’s palm— a small keychain with a delicate pressed flower encased in clear resin. The flower was tiny, with clusters of bell-shaped blooms hanging like little pearls. Its white petals looked almost luminous against the soft green of its stem.

“This is for me?” Taerae asked, reaching out hesitantly.

Gunwook nodded. “Picked the flower last night and pressed it this morning. Thought you might like it.”

Taerae turned the keychain over in his hand, admiring how the sunlight caught the flower’s delicate features. “It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen a flower like this before.”

Gunwook shrugged, but there was a quiet satisfaction in his expression.

Without thinking, Taerae pulled his bag into his lap and carefully attached the keychain to one of the zippers. He tugged on it lightly to make sure it was secure, then smiled to himself.

“It looks good there,” Gunwook said, his tone approving.

Taerae glanced at him, their eyes meeting for a moment longer than usual. He quickly looked away, pretending to busy himself with his bag.

A shout from the clearing broke the moment. “Breakfast time!” Gyuvin called, waving them over.

Gunwook stood first, offering Taerae his hand. “Shall we?”

This time, unlike before, Taerae didn't hesitate to take Gunwook's hand, letting him help him to his feet. The soreness in his legs protested the motion, but the lightness in his chest made it easier to ignore.

As they walked back to the guesthouse together, Taerae caught himself glancing at the keychain swinging from his bag. He didn’t know much about the flower itself, but there was something comforting about its simplicity.

—

The morning sun streamed softly through the large windows of the guesthouse, casting a warm, golden light across the room. The scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the air, mingling with the rich aroma of miso soup and steamed rice, setting a calm, inviting atmosphere. Taerae felt his body relax slightly as he stepped inside, his legs sore from the hike. Despite the fatigue, the gentle comfort of the guesthouse made the aches feel worth it.

Ms. Park greeted everyone with her usual cheerful smile. "Welcome back! Come in, come in, breakfast is ready!" she said, her voice warm as she ushered them toward the dining area. As Taerae entered, the quiet hum of conversation from the other guests filled the space, a contrast to the peacefulness of the morning.

However, Ms. Park had something different in mind for Taerae. She motioned for him to sit at a small table near the corner of the room, away from the others. He glanced around, puzzled. Why was she pulling him aside? But she was already placing a steaming bowl of miso soup and a small plate of rice in front of him, her expression kind but purposeful.

Junhyeon and Gyuvin were seated at the table, waiting for him. Junhyeon smiled and waved as Taerae sat down. "We saved you a spot," he said with a teasing grin. "Hike got the best of you, huh?"

Taerae let out a soft laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “You could say that. I’m definitely feeling it now,” he said, taking a sip of the warm soup, letting the heat ease his tension.

Ms. Park lingered for a moment, then casually glanced at Gunwook, who was serving plates of food to the other guests. With a gentle wave of her hand, she spoke quietly, “Gunwook, dear, can you help with the others? It’ll give me some time to talk to Taerae.”

Gunwook, ever the efficient and friendly one, flashed a quick smile before nodding and moving toward the other guests. His casual manner was always reassuring, but now, Taerae noticed the way he immediately shifted into his role, attending to the guests without missing a beat. Ms. Park, satisfied with her request, turned back to Taerae.

"Taerae," she began gently, her voice lowering as if to ensure their conversation remained private, "I wanted to ask you about last night. It seemed like you were having a hard time during the barbecue party."

Taerae froze for a brief moment, his spoon still hovering over his bowl. He hadn’t expected to be asked about it so soon, but the warmth of Ms. Park’s tone made it easier to open up.

"You sang that song," Ms. Park continued, her eyes soft with understanding, "and then... you cried right after. Gunwook took you outside, didn’t he? He seemed concerned."

Taerae swallowed hard, memories of the night flooding back— the way his voice had faltered as he sang, the tears he hadn’t been able to hold back, and Gunwook’s calm presence as he led him away from the crowd. The cool night air, the quiet stargazing.. it had been a bittersweet release, but also oddly soothing. Gunwook’s hand on his back, the soft murmur of his voice urging him to calm down— it all seemed so distant now, as if he’d stepped out of the moment just enough to see things clearly again.

“Yeah.. sorry, I wasn’t expecting to get emotional,” Taerae said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “I just felt everything hit me at once. I didn’t want to be a mess in front of everyone.”

Ms. Park nodded, her expression compassionate. “I understand. It’s not easy to keep everything in, especially when you’re dealing with something personal. But you know, sometimes the best way to heal is to let it out.” She paused, glancing at the keychain hanging from Taerae’s bag. Her eyes softened, and a small, knowing smile tugged at her lips. “Did Gunwook give that to you?”

Taerae blinked, glancing down at the delicate keychain before nodding. It was a small flower pressed inside clear resin, the soft petals of white and green delicate and serene. "Yeah, he gave it to me this morning," Taerae said, his voice quieter than usual.

Ms. Park smiled, her gaze gentle as she leaned in just a little closer. “That flower,” she began, her voice taking on a soft, almost reverent tone, “is called Lily of the Valley. It symbolizes a return to happiness. In other words, the person who gives this flower hopes you smile a lot.” She glanced at Taerae’s face, watching as the realization seemed to settle in. "It’s a beautiful gesture, don’t you think?"

Taerae’s fingers brushed against the keychain once more, his chest tightening at the thought. He hadn’t known the flower’s meaning— he’d only accepted it, grateful for the gesture. But hearing Ms. Park’s words made him feel something more. Gunwook had chosen this particular flower because he wanted Taerae to find his happiness again. A soft, warm feeling stirred inside him.

“Gunwook.. he’s just..” Taerae trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He’d been overwhelmed by the thoughtfulness of the gesture, but hearing Ms. Park’s explanation only added weight to it.

“He’s a rare one,” Ms. Park said softly, her eyes glimmering with something between fondness and admiration. “He doesn’t say much, but when he cares about someone, he shows it in ways you might not expect.”

Gyuvin, who had been listening quietly, leaned in with a mischievous grin. “You know, we’ve all seen Gunwook looking out for people, but he doesn’t exactly make a habit of doing it for everyone, hyung.” He looked at his friend teasingly. “So.. what’s going on between you two?”

Junhyeon, unable to resist, joined in. “Yeah, Gunwook seemed pretty protective last night. Took you away from the party and all. What, are you two a thing now?”

Taerae’s face flushed immediately, his hands instinctively tightening around his bowl of rice. “No, there’s nothing going on at all-” he stammered, his mind scrambling for a way to explain himself without sounding too flustered. “It’s just- he was being nice. He didn’t want me to stay alone, that’s all.”

Ms. Park chuckled softly, her expression warm and knowing. “It’s alright, Taerae. Nothing wrong with a little kindness, right?”

The teasing from Gyuvin and Junhyeon subsided slightly, though their grins were still present. Junhyeon glanced at Taerae with a more thoughtful expression. “Gunwook doesn’t open up much, but I guess that’s part of the charm, huh?”

Gyuvin nodded. “Yeah. He’s always been there for people in his own way. He’s kind of a.. solid guy, you know? People admire that about him. It’s not easy being the one people turn to, and yet he handles it well. Almost like he’s used to it.”

Taerae’s curiosity grew with every word. He’d always known Gunwook as the laid-back, easy-going guy who made everyone feel welcome. But there was clearly more to him, a depth he hadn’t noticed before. He suddenly wanted to know more about the guy who had so effortlessly shown him kindness when he needed it most.

Ms. Park watched the conversation unfold, her eyes filled with an unspoken affection. “He’s a good person, Taerae. You’re lucky to have someone like him looking out for you.”

Taerae felt a shift inside him. It was strange, but the more he learned about Gunwook— about his easy-going nature, his tendency to take care of others, and the little things he did without fanfare— the more drawn to him he became. There was something about Gunwook that made him want to open up more, something genuine and unassuming that Taerae found hard to ignore.

As they were finishing up breakfast, Taerae’s phone buzzed against the table. Glancing at the screen, he saw a text from Matthew:

𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗰𝗵𝘂𝘂 [𝟵:𝟮𝟭]
𝗮𝗹𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲, 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝟮𝟬 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝘀.

Taerae’s heart sank, the message pulling him out of the warm, comforting atmosphere of the guesthouse and back into the reality waiting for him. He hesitated for a moment before speaking. “I should go pack,” he said softly, a small, forced smile tugging at his lips.

Ms. Park nodded warmly. “Go ahead, dear. Take your time. We’ll be here.”

Taerae excused himself and headed to his room. Inside, he began gathering his belongings— a task that didn’t take long, considering how little he had brought. Yet, despite the simplicity of the chore, his hands moved slowly, his mind elsewhere. The thought of returning to his empty apartment sent a wave of unease through him. The walls that had closed in on him during the three weeks after his breakup seemed to stretch out in his mind like a void, threatening to swallow him whole again. His movements faltered as a lump formed in his throat.

Shaking his head, he exhaled sharply. “You’re fine. You’ll be fine,” he whispered to himself, willing the anxiety to subside. Finally, he zipped his bag shut, slung it over his shoulder, and gave the room one last glance. The faint scent of fresh linen and wood lingered, grounding him as he stepped out.

When Taerae returned to the common area, the scene felt different, like a fleeting moment he wanted to hold onto. The lively chatter of guests mingled with the clatter of plates and chairs, yet beneath it all was an undertone of goodbyes— warm, bittersweet, and inevitable. Taerae eased into a seat near the others, his gaze flitting across the faces of people he’d come to cherish in this short time. A smile here, a laugh there— it was the kind of warmth he hadn’t realized he needed until now.

He didn’t have long to dwell. The low rumble of an engine pulling up outside broke through the morning hum. Moments later, Matthew entered the guesthouse, radiating his usual confident energy in a sleek blazer and polished loafers, every bit the picture of composure Taerae had come to expect. His sharp eyes swept the room before locking onto Taerae, his lips already curling into a teasing grin.

“Well, well, looks like my best friend survived,” Matthew announced, his tone laced with playful dramatics.

Taerae rolled his eyes, his lips twitching upward despite himself. “Barely.”

Matthew sauntered over, pausing to greet Ms. Park with a firm handshake and a warm smile. “Thank you for taking care of him. I hope he didn’t cause too much trouble.”

Ms. Park chuckled lightly. “Not at all. He’s been lovely— very polite and helpful.”

Matthew’s grin turned mischievous as he glanced at Taerae. “He didn’t cry while he was here, did he?”

The comment landed like a bombshell. Taerae’s face flushed scarlet as he whipped around to glare at his friend. “Matthew, I swear—”

Ms. Park, ever graceful, only chuckled, though her eyes glimmered with amusement. “No tears, just smiles,” she reassured, earning a sheepish laugh from Taerae.

Hoping to escape further embarrassment, Taerae cleared his throat. “I should say my goodbyes.”

He started with Ms. Park, bowing deeply as he spoke. “Thank you for everything. This place.. it’s been really special.”

“You’re welcome back anytime,” she said warmly, pulling him into a gentle hug.

Moving on, Taerae approached Gyuvin and Junhyeon, who were already wearing mischievous grins. “See you next time,” Gyuvin said, elbowing Taerae. “So you can spend more time with Gun—”

“Stop—” Taerae groaned, his laughter tinged with embarrassment. “You’re the worst.”

Finally, Taerae found himself in front of Gunwook. The noise of the room seemed to fade, replaced by a palpable tension that neither could fully ignore. Gunwook stood with his hands shoved into his pockets, his gaze wavering between Taerae’s face and the floor.

“It was nice... meeting you,” Taerae said softly, his voice carrying an almost unspoken plea for more time.

Gunwook hesitated, his lips parting slightly before he replied, “Yeah. You too. Take care, hyung.”

The words hung in the air, simple yet weighted. Taerae’s chest tightened, a mix of regret and longing swelling within him. He turned back toward Matthew, who watched the exchange with raised eyebrows and an all-too-knowing smirk.

As they stepped outside, Matthew leaned closer. “Something going on there?” he asked, his tone dripping with intrigue.

“No,” Taerae muttered, though his reddening cheeks betrayed him.

Matthew smirked but didn’t press further. The walk to the car was quiet, yet every step felt heavier for Taerae, like his body was tethered to the guesthouse, resisting the act of leaving. His mind raced with thoughts of what he should have said, what he could have done differently.

Reaching the entrance, Taerae paused, his breath hitching. His heart hammered in his chest, each beat echoing louder than the last.

“...Shit,” he murmured under his breath. Before he could second-guess himself, he spun around and strode back into the guesthouse, determination etched across his face.

Conversations halted as everyone turned to watch. Gunwook, caught mid-conversation with Junhyeon, looked up in surprise. His expression shifted from confusion to quiet anticipation as Taerae stopped in front of him, his cheeks flushed and hands trembling slightly. Without a word, Taerae pulled out his phone and extended it toward Gunwook.

“Can I have your number?”

The room held its collective breath. Gasps and murmurs rippled through the small crowd, a mixture of shock and curiosity. Gunwook blinked, visibly flustered, before fumbling for his phone. Their fingers brushed briefly during the exchange, sending a jolt of warmth through Taerae that made his heart stutter.

After a moment of awkward but endearing fumbling, the numbers were saved, and Gunwook handed the phone back with a shy smile. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Taerae mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. He turned to leave, his cheeks burning, but not before catching the soft look in Gunwook’s eyes— an unspoken promise, perhaps.

Matthew was waiting by the car, his arms crossed and an incredulous grin plastered across his face. “You’re full of surprises, Kim Taerae,” he said as Taerae climbed into the passenger seat.

The drive was quiet at first, the scenery passing in a blur as Taerae replayed the moment in his mind. Gunwook’s shy smile, the warmth of their brief touch— it lingered like a sweet ache.

“So,” Matthew finally broke the silence, his voice brimming with amusement. “Are you gonna text him first, or are you gonna wait three days to play it cool?”

Taerae groaned, burying his face in his hands. “Matthew, stop.”

Matthew laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. “Hey, I’m just saying— he seems like a good guy.”

Taerae didn’t answer, but as he glanced at his phone, Gunwook’s name now saved in his contacts, a small, genuine smile curved his lips. For the first time in weeks, the weight on his chest felt a little lighter.

Chapter Text

It was early afternoon when Taerae and Matthew left the guesthouse, their car filled with the hum of the engine and soft music playing in the background. They didn’t drive straight to Taerae’s apartment, though.

“Let’s make a quick stop,” Matthew said, veering toward the local supermarket. “Your fridge is probably a disaster zone by now.”

Taerae groaned, leaning his head back against the seat. “You’re right. I don’t even remember the last time I opened it. There’s probably expired yogurt waiting to kill me.”

Matthew snorted. “Yeah, let’s not risk it. Besides, you can’t live off instant ramen forever.”

After parking, the pair grabbed a cart and strolled through the aisles. Taerae reached for a bundle of spinach, while Matthew tossed a carton of eggs into the cart. They bickered lightly over snacks, with Matthew insisting on chocolate-covered almonds and Taerae countering with plain pretzels.

By the time they finished shopping, their cart was overflowing with fresh vegetables, fruits, pantry staples, and a few guilty pleasures that Matthew refused to put back.

—

When they reached Taerae’s apartment, both were laden with plastic bags, their arms straining under the weight.

“Why are you grinning like that?” Taerae asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow at Matthew, who seemed unusually cheerful.

“No reason,” Matthew replied, his voice carrying a hint of mischief.

Taerae eyed him skeptically but said nothing as he unlocked the door and stepped inside.

He froze.

The chaos he had left behind three weeks ago— the cluttered floor, the piles of laundry, the general air of neglect— was gone. The apartment was spotless. His desk, once buried under stacks of papers and random junk, was now neatly organized. The couch, which had become a dumping ground for his belongings, looked inviting again. Even the faint scent of lemon cleaner lingered in the air.

“Did you—?” Taerae turned to Matthew, his voice barely above a whisper.

Matthew shrugged nonchalantly, though his grin betrayed his satisfaction. “Spent the day yesterday cleaning up. Figured you’d want a fresh start.”

Taerae stared at him, overwhelmed. His lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his eyes grew misty, and his chest felt tight with emotion.

“Hey, hey— don’t cry,” Matthew said, stepping forward. His voice was teasing, but his expression softened as he saw how much this gesture meant to his best friend.

Before Taerae could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around Matthew, pulling him into a tight hug. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

Matthew stiffened at first, clearly unused to such earnest displays of affection, but quickly relaxed and patted Taerae’s back awkwardly. “Of course you do, idiot. Who else am I gonna annoy if you fall apart?”

As Taerae pulled back, his eyes still glistening, he couldn’t help but reflect on the depth of their friendship. He and Matthew had met during their first year of university, when they were assigned as partners for a group project. Taerae, ever the perfectionist, had been skeptical of Matthew’s laid-back demeanor. But by the end of the semester, they had become inseparable.

Matthew had been there through everything— late-night study sessions, impromptu karaoke nights, and even Taerae’s first blackout from drinking too much after fighting with his ex. No matter what, they always had each other’s backs. And now, standing in his freshly cleaned apartment, Taerae was reminded once again of how lucky he was to have someone like Matthew in his life.

“Thanks a lot, Matt. Really,” he said, his voice steady but full of gratitude.

“Anytime,” Matthew replied with a small smile. Then, in true Matthew fashion, he added, “Now stop being all sappy and help me put these groceries away before your ice cream melts.”

—

The kitchen bustled with activity, the air filled with the aroma of sizzling garlic and the rhythmic sound of Taerae chopping vegetables. He stood at the counter, focused on his task, while Matthew stirred a pot of soup on the stove.

“So,” Matthew began, breaking the comfortable silence, “tell me about this Gunwook guy.”

Taerae’s knife hesitated over the carrot he was slicing. “What about him?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Matthew teased, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve been humming love songs under your breath since we left the guesthouse. Spill.”

Taerae rolled his eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile creeping onto his face. “It’s not what you think,” he said, his tone defensive but his expression betraying him.

Matthew turned off the stove, leaned against the counter, and folded his arms, his eyebrows raised expectantly. “Go on. I’m all ears.”

Taerae sighed, setting the knife down and wiping his hands on a dish towel. “Fine. He’s just really sweet, okay? Yesterday, during the barbecue, I.. I started crying while singing.” He paused, his voice lowering as the memory came flooding back. “I was overwhelmed, I guess? He noticed and took me away from the crowd to calm me down.”

Matthew’s expression softened slightly, though he kept his teasing edge. “And?”

“And,” Taerae continued, his cheeks flushing, “he called me pretty after I cried. Then later, he showed me this secret stargazing spot. It was beautiful.”

“Okay, so he’s got game,” Matthew said, smirking.

“There’s more,” Taerae said, his voice quieter now. “This morning, he took a Polaroid picture of me. He said he wanted to keep it for himself. And before I left, he gave me this.” Taerae grabbed the lily of the valley keychain from his bag, holding it up for Matthew to see.

Matthew stared at the small trinket, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then he groaned dramatically, dragging a hand down his face. “Damn, what did he see in you?”

“Oi—” Taerae protested, chucking a piece of chopped carrot at him.

Matthew caught it mid-air and popped it into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “Nah, I’m just messing with you. Sounds like he’s totally whipped for you. And from what you’re saying, he seems like a decent guy.”

Taerae looked down at the keychain in his hand, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Yeah.. I think I want to get to know him better.”

Matthew’s grin widened. “Good. You should. Now that you’ve got his number, what’s stopping you? Text him. Call him. Send him memes if you’re too shy to talk.”

Taerae laughed, shaking his head. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” Matthew said, nudging him playfully. “Look, you’re my best friend. You deserve someone who sees you the way Gunwook apparently does. Don’t overthink it, okay?”

Taerae nodded, feeling a wave of warmth and reassurance wash over him. “Thanks, Matt.”

“Anytime,” Matthew said, his tone lighter now. “Now let’s eat before this soup turns into mush. You can swoon over your new crush later.”

The two sat down at the small dining table, the tension of the past few weeks beginning to melt away. As they ate, Taerae found himself silently thanking the universe— not just for Gunwook, but for Matthew, whose constant presence felt like home no matter where he was.

—

The sun had begun to set after Taerae and Matthew spent the afternoon catching up, reminiscing about old times and laughing over lunch. The conversation had flowed easily, a much-needed distraction from the heavy thoughts that lingered in Taerae's mind.

Now, as the evening settled in, Matthew stood by the door, keys in hand and his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Well," Matthew said with a sigh, a small smile playing on his lips, "I guess this is it for today. You sure you're good?"

Taerae leaned against the doorframe, watching his best friend with a quiet look. "Yeah, I feel a lot better now. I'm still not completely over it, but I’ll get through it."

Matthew gave him a reassuring nod. "I know you will. Just don’t forget, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"I won’t forget," Taerae replied, his voice soft but sincere.

Matthew's playful grin returned, his tone light. "And hey, don't let me come back here and find you sulking. Call me before that happens."

Taerae chuckled, shaking his head. "I promise. I’ll keep it together."

Matthew stepped closer, clapping a hand on Taerae’s shoulder. "Good. You’ve got this, alright?"

Taerae smiled, the weight on his chest lifting a little. "Thanks, Matt."

With one last nod, Matthew turned to leave, pausing at the door. "Take care, okay? Text me if you need anything, seriously."

"Will do," Taerae said, watching his best friend step into the hallway.

As the door clicked shut behind him, Taerae stood there for a moment, the quiet settling over him. The air felt different now, lighter, as though a small but significant shift had taken place. He closed his eyes and let out a long, steadying breath.

That night, Taerae lay on his bed, staring up at the ceiling with his phone resting on his chest. Gunwook’s number sat neatly saved in his contacts: wookie.

He picked up the phone, opened the messaging app, and hovered over Gunwook’s name. His thumb hesitated, lingering over the blank text field.

"What am I even supposed to say?" he muttered, running a hand through his hair.

The memories of Gunwook from the guesthouse replayed in his mind. The way Gunwook had pulled him away from the crowd after the barbecue party, calming him down when he’d been too overwhelmed to breathe. How he’d called Taerae pretty, of all things, right after seeing him cry. The secret stargazing spot. The polaroid picture Gunwook had taken. The lily-of-the-valley keychain.

Taerae sighed, sitting up and glaring at the screen. "I should text him. I really should."

But the excuses came easily. It’s too late now. What if he’s already asleep? What if it’s weird? He groaned, tossing the phone onto the pillow beside him. "Tomorrow. I’ll do it tomorrow."

—

The next morning, sunlight streamed through the kitchen window as Taerae poured himself a cup of coffee. He leaned against the counter, sipping slowly while scrolling through his phone. His thumb hovered over Gunwook’s contact again.

"It’s morning now. Should I just.. say hi?" he wondered aloud.

But then the doubt crept back in. What if he’s busy? What if it’s too early? He sighed, setting the phone down and shaking his head.

"I’ll do it while I clean up later," he muttered, more to convince himself than anything.

The rest of the day was spent diving into what was left of the mess in his apartment. Most of it was personal stuff— things Matthew hadn’t touched because he didn’t want to throw out anything important by accident.

Taerae opened a drawer filled with mementos: old concert tickets, photos, and small trinkets. Among them were gifts from Minjae— his ex. A bracelet, a framed photo, a small notebook filled with handwritten notes. He sat cross-legged on the floor, picking up each item one by one. Some brought back fond memories: quiet nights watching movies together, silly inside jokes. Others felt heavier, like the arguments that had chipped away at their relationship.

Tears pricked his eyes as he held the notebook, flipping through the pages. It hurt, but there was also relief in letting go.

One by one, he placed the items into a box labeled donation or a trash bag. By the time he was done, the room felt emptier but lighter. He stood in the middle of the now-tidy space, taking a deep breath.

"I can breathe again," he murmured to himself, a small smile tugging at his lips.

That’s when he remembered.

Gunwook.

Taerae smacked his forehead. "Shit, I forgot to text him—"

He grabbed his phone, opening Gunwook’s contact again. This time, he wasn’t going to overthink it.

But of course, he overthought it.

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟰]
𝗵𝗶, 𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲

Delete. Too formal.

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟰]
𝗵𝗲𝘆𝘆, 𝗵𝗼𝘄'𝘀 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗶𝗻𝗴?

Delete. Too generic.

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟰]
𝗵𝗶, 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝗻!

Delete. Too cringey.

After several minutes of internal debate, he settled on:

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟳]
𝗵𝗶, 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗴𝘂𝗻𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸?

He stared at the screen for what felt like forever before hitting send. The message sent, and for a moment, nothing happened. Then the read receipt popped up. His heart skipped a beat when the typing indicator appeared almost immediately.

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟴]
𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴?

A small smile broke across Taerae’s face.

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟴]
𝗺𝗵𝗺! 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗱𝗮𝘆?

Gunwook replied quickly, his messages coming in rapid bursts:

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟵]
𝗮𝗵 𝗶 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗻𝗮 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗺𝗲..

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟵]
𝗶 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗶 𝗴𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗻𝘂𝗺𝗯𝗲𝗿 𝗼𝗿 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 ㅠㅠ

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟮𝟬]
𝘁𝗼𝗼𝗸 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗲𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗺𝗲, 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟮𝟬]
𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗺𝘆 𝗱𝗮𝘆 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗮𝗹𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁! 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆, 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗹𝗽𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘀 𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗸 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗮𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟮𝟭]
𝘄𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴?

Taerae laughed under his breath, his chest feeling lighter with every word Gunwook sent.

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟮𝟯]
𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆, 𝗶 𝘄𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘂𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝘀𝗲..

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟮𝟯]
𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴'𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝘀𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗿. 𝗽𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗺𝘆𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝘂𝗽 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗹𝘆 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘆!

They texted back and forth for the rest of the evening, Gunwook’s replies filled with the same casual warmth Taerae had come to expect from him. Eventually, Gunwook had to go help with chores, but not before sending a quick:

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟱𝟯]
𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗿𝗼𝘄, 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴. 𝗶'𝗺 𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼 𝗶𝘁!

Taerae stared at the screen long after their conversation ended, a quiet smile on his face. The future didn’t feel so overwhelming.

—

It had been a little over two weeks since Taerae had started reestablishing his routines. Slowly but surely, his mornings began to feel less like an uphill battle and more like something he could look forward to. Every small step, though it seemed insignificant at first, had started to pull him back to himself, piece by piece.

His mornings now began with the familiar rhythm of his old jog. The air was always crisp, the streets quiet as the world was just starting to wake up. With each step, Taerae found a strange peace. The soft rustle of leaves in the breeze, the subtle crunch of gravel under his shoes— it was grounding. There was something soothing about the simplicity of the routine. He could focus on the rhythm of his breath, the steady pace of his feet hitting the pavement. For those 30 minutes every morning, he could forget about everything else. He was just himself again.

It wasn’t much, but it was something. And with each jog, he felt a little lighter, a little more like the person he used to be before everything had become so overwhelming.

After his run, Taerae would prepare his meals for the day. The act of cooking had always been something he enjoyed, but he had lost touch with it during the darker weeks. Now, as he chopped vegetables, sautéed ingredients, and mixed flavors, he rediscovered a simple joy in nourishing himself. He took his time, focusing on the textures, the colors, the smells. The process had become meditative in a way— something that didn’t require much thought but still grounded him in the present.

In the evenings, he would sit down with his guitar. He hadn’t played much lately, but the familiar weight of the instrument in his hands always felt comforting. His fingers found their way across the strings effortlessly, playing melodies that used to come so naturally to him. There were no performances or busking for strangers though. It felt too soon, too exposed. But for now, it was just him and the music, and that was enough.

Sometimes, he would close his eyes, letting the soft strumming flow over him like a warm blanket. It was like a form of therapy— a way to connect with the parts of himself he hadn’t been able to reach for quite a while.

As the days passed, these small actions began to feel more like habits than struggles. The change was subtle, but it was there. Taerae felt more grounded, more in control of his life. It wasn’t about perfection— it was about progress. And every day, no matter how small, he was getting closer to the person he wanted to be again.

And then there was Gunwook.

Their daily texts had started casually, at first. A simple “Hi” from Taerae, followed by Gunwook’s easy reply. It felt almost strange at first— getting to know someone through text messages after so long of isolating himself. But as the days turned into weeks, the texting became a natural part of his routine.

At first, it was just pictures of mundane things. Taerae would send a photo of his songbook, the pages filled with handwritten lyrics and chords, a reminder of who he was before. Gunwook would send a picture of his coffee mug, the steam rising in delicate tendrils. Small things. Simple things. But they meant something, in a way.

The conversations became more fluid as time passed. They talked about their day, their plans, the little things that happened in their lives. Sometimes, Taerae would share something random, like a funny memory or a passing thought. Gunwook’s responses were always just as casual, and yet Taerae couldn’t help but notice the way Gunwook’s tone seemed to soften when it came to him. There was a warmth in his words, a sincerity that Taerae hadn’t expected.

A few days later, Taerae sent a video of himself playing his guitar, his fingers moving over the strings with ease. The song wasn’t anything special— just a tune he’d written in his younger days. He wasn’t expecting much, but when Gunwook replied with a simple “Hyung, that’s really good,” Taerae’s heart skipped a beat. He hadn’t realized how much he missed sharing his music with someone who appreciated it.

Gunwook, in turn, started sending more personal things— selfies from his day, a picture of him with Junhyeon and Gyuvin in class, all three of them grinning at the camera. It felt like they were starting to share pieces of their lives with each other. Slowly but surely, the space between them seemed to close, despite the distance.

Yet, something about their communication still felt.. incomplete. They’d texted every day, shared pictures, and even small personal details, but there was something about the absence of voice, of hearing each other’s tone, that left a subtle gap. It was almost like they were dancing around something, both unsure of what came next.

Taerae found himself wondering about their relationship— what exactly it was, and where it was heading. He had caught himself overthinking things more than once. He hadn’t even realized how much he’d come to look forward to their messages until one night, after a particularly long exchange, he found himself staring at his screen, wondering if it was time to make the next move.

Should he ask if Gunwook wanted to talk on the phone? Should he bring up the subject of what they were, or would it be too soon?

He found himself hesitating, unsure if he should be the one to bring it up. Maybe Gunwook didn’t want to rush anything. Maybe he was just respecting the boundaries Taerae had set, given their age gap and what Taerae had went through before they met. After all, Taerae was three years older, and that thought lingered in his mind more often than he liked to admit.

But still, the silence between them felt different now. It wasn’t awkward, but it was a silence full of unspoken things. Taerae wasn’t sure if it was time to cross that line, but he felt the pull to do so, to bridge the gap in some way.

For now, though, he decided to wait. The messages were enough. For now.

—

Taerae had no particular reason to visit the music shop that day. He wasn’t in the mood to do much, but after misplacing his guitar pick earlier that morning and feeling bored of being at home, he decided to wander over. The store always had a calming effect on him, surrounded by all the instruments and the promise of something new. Maybe he’d even treat himself to a new guitar one day— once he saved up enough money, of course.

The soft hum of ambient music filled the air as he stepped inside, a familiar sense of comfort settling over him. He wasn't planning on buying anything today, just looking around for a bit to distract himself.

Taerae started wandering toward the guitar section when it happened— he didn't notice Minjae standing in the aisle ahead of him.

It wasn’t like he was actively avoiding him— he just hadn’t been paying attention. But the collision was unavoidable. His shoulder brushed against Minjae’s arm as they turned at the same moment, their bodies unintentionally connecting.

The force of the bump was enough to make Taerae stumble back slightly, the shock of it instantly pulling him out of his thoughts.

He froze.

For a moment, he just stood there, frozen in place, trying to make sense of the fact that Minjae was standing right there in front of him. The world around him seemed to stop as their eyes met.

Minjae didn’t react immediately either. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before he shifted, looking uncertain. "Taerae?"

It took Taerae a second to process the sound of his voice. That familiar name— one that had once felt warm— now felt like a raw scrape on his skin. He clenched his jaw and shifted his weight, unwilling to acknowledge him.

Taerae had wanted to avoid this, avoid the confrontation that was bound to happen eventually. He hadn’t planned for it to be today, not here, not like this.

His heart thudded louder than the music playing in the background, and his instinct was to leave— to slip away and pretend Minjae wasn’t there. But Minjae didn’t make it easy.

"Taerae, hey," Minjae repeated, his voice carrying a note of hesitation, almost as if testing the waters. "It’s been a while."

Taerae’s mind raced, trying to form the right words, but his body wouldn’t move. He could feel the anger boiling in his chest, the frustration of seeing Minjae standing there as if nothing had ever happened. Taerae wasn’t sure what to do, but he knew one thing for certain: he didn’t want to talk to him. Not now.

He glanced at Minjae for the first time, meeting his gaze briefly before looking away. "What are you doing here?" Taerae asked, his voice colder than he intended. "Didn’t think I’d run into you."

Minjae's face softened, and Taerae could tell he was trying to make things right. But Taerae wasn’t in the mood for any of it. Minjae hesitated, his grip tightening slightly on the guitar he’d been inspecting.

"I didn’t expect this either," Minjae said, trying to keep things casual. "I just came to check out a few things."

Taerae’s heart thudded again. The casualness in Minjae’s voice grated against him. There was no way to mask the tension between them. Taerae didn’t want to hear him act like everything was okay.

"I see." Taerae’s voice came out flat, the words almost robotic. He shifted his feet as though getting ready to walk away, but Minjae stepped a little closer, his tone more insistent.

"Can we talk?" Minjae asked, his voice quieter now, almost pleading. "Just for a minute? I know things were left.. messy, and I—"

Taerae cut him off, his anger finally surfacing. He took a step back, his eyes narrowing. "Talk? About what?" His tone was sharp, biting. "About the night we broke up? About how you disappeared without a word? How you didn’t even try to contact me after everything that happened? You’re just going to show up now and act like nothing happened?"

Minjae flinched, his eyes widening in regret. The silence that followed was thick with the weight of Taerae’s words. Taerae’s jaw tightened as he tried to keep his emotions in check, but it wasn’t easy.

"Taerae," Minjae whispered, but the pleading in his voice only made things worse. "I.. I didn’t know what to do. I thought I was giving you space. I thought—"

Taerae scoffed, cutting him off once again. "Space? Space? You didn’t give me space, Minjae. You left me alone to figure out everything by myself. You didn’t send a text. Didn’t check in. Nothing. And now you want to show up here like we can just pick up where we left off? No. I don’t want to hear it."

Minjae opened his mouth, but the words got stuck.

Taerae’s anger was a storm inside him now, and he couldn’t hold it back anymore. "I don’t need your explanations. I don’t need your apology. You didn’t even care to try back then, so don’t act like you care now."

Minjae stood there, looking lost and small in the middle of the store, the weight of Taerae’s words hanging heavily between them. But Taerae wasn’t done. He wasn’t going to let Minjae off the hook that easily.

"I’ve already said everything I need to say, Minjae. You had your chance." Taerae’s voice was cold, almost emotionless now. He took one last glance at Minjae, watching the way he stood there, still trying to reach out, still trying to make things right.

But Taerae wasn’t interested anymore.

Turning on his heel, Taerae walked away, his heart pounding in his chest. He didn’t care what Minjae thought. He didn’t care if he was left with questions or guilt. What Minjae needed was to feel the weight of what he had done, to realize just how badly he’d messed up. And Taerae wasn’t going to be the one to give him peace.

Not today. Not ever again.

—

Taerae stepped into his small apartment, closing the door behind him with a soft click. The silence hit him like a wave, amplifying the weight of everything he’d been holding back. His encounter with Minjae replayed in his mind on an endless loop, each word exchanged slicing through him like shards of glass.

He felt overwhelmed— like the walls were closing in, like he couldn’t breathe. His chest tightened, and his legs buckled as he dropped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. Exhaustion tugged at every corner of his body, but it wasn’t the kind of exhaustion that sleep could fix. It was the kind that came from carrying too much pain for too long.

He wanted to cry— really, he did— but the tears refused to fall, stuck behind a dam he wasn’t ready to break. A hollow ache settled in his chest instead, leaving him teetering on the edge of spiraling.

Without thinking, he reached for his phone. His fingers hovered over Matthew’s name on his call list. Taerae knew Matthew would know what to say, would know how to bring him back to solid ground. But as the phone rang, the realization dawned on him: Matthew was working. The call went unanswered, and Taerae let the phone slip from his hand onto the couch. He didn’t blame him— he knew Matthew was busy.

But now what? Who else could he turn to?

Gunwook’s name stared back at him from his contacts. The idea of calling him felt both comforting and terrifying. Taerae wasn’t sure if he wanted to open up, to make himself vulnerable in front of someone who wasn’t Matthew. But Gunwook had always been.. different. Steady. Safe.

He hesitated, his thumb hovering over the call button. His mind raced with doubts. What if I’m bothering him? What if he doesn’t know what to say? What if this is too much?

But as the silence pressed in around him, suffocating, Taerae hit the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

Gunwook picked up on the second ring.

“Taerae hyung?” Gunwook’s voice was soft, but there was a hint of surprise in it. “Is everything okay?”

Hearing his name spoken so gently made something inside Taerae crack. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice wavered, and he had to swallow hard to keep the tears at bay. “I.. I’m sorry for calling you like this,” he said, his voice shaky, almost breaking.

Gunwook’s tone shifted immediately, concern replacing surprise. “Hyung, what’s wrong? Talk to me.”

Taerae drew in a trembling breath, his free hand gripping his knee as if anchoring himself. “I ran into my ex today,” he finally said, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I didn’t mean to, but it just.. happened. And it— it brought back everything. Everything I tried to forget.” His voice cracked, and he hated how small he sounded, but he couldn’t stop. “I thought I’d moved on, but seeing him— he acted like nothing happened, like he didn’t leave me behind. And I just.. I couldn’t handle it.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, but it wasn’t empty. Taerae could feel Gunwook listening, his silence steady and grounding.

“Hyung,” Gunwook said softly, his voice low and calming. “That sounds rough, I can’t imagine how much that hurt you.”

The simple acknowledgment made Taerae’s chest tighten again, but this time, it wasn’t from pain. He didn’t realize how much he needed to hear those words until Gunwook said them.

“It’s okay to feel like this,” Gunwook continued, his voice unwavering. “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s okay if it still hurts. You don’t have to push it down or pretend it’s fine.”

Taerae exhaled shakily, letting his head rest against the back of the couch. “I’m trying, I really am. But it’s so hard sometimes. I hate that he still gets to me like this.”

Gunwook didn’t rush to fill the silence that followed. Instead, he let Taerae sit with his emotions, offering quiet support. Finally, he spoke again, his tone filled with warmth. “You’re stronger than you think, hyung. You don’t have to face this alone.”

Taerae closed his eyes, the weight in his chest easing just slightly. “Thank you,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

There was a pause before Gunwook added something unexpected, something that made Taerae’s breath hitch. “I missed hearing your voice, hyung.”

The words were simple, but they carried a depth that Taerae couldn’t ignore. For a moment, the storm in his mind quieted, replaced by a soft warmth spreading through him.

“I missed yours too,” Taerae admitted quietly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips despite everything.

They didn’t talk much after that. Gunwook didn’t try to fix things or offer solutions. Instead, he just stayed on the line, his presence a steady anchor for Taerae to hold onto.

Thanks to Gunwook, Taerae didn’t feel so alone.

Chapter Text

The steady buzz of Taerae’s phone resting on the coffee table barely registered in his half-conscious mind. He stirred, blinking blearily at the ceiling, his neck aching from an awkward angle. A dull headache throbbed behind his eyes, memories of a day that had been far more emotionally taxing than he had anticipated.

For a moment, he stared blankly around the room, confusion settling in. His thoughts were foggy, disjointed. Then it clicked— Minjae, the argument, and the phone call with Gunwook. His hand shot out to grab his phone, but before he could, the sound of keys jangling at the front door drew his attention.

The lock clicked. Then, the door flung open with a force that rattled the frame.

“Taerae!” Matthew’s voice boomed through the apartment, panic lacing his tone.

Taerae shot upright, startled. “What the—”

Matthew stormed in, his expression a mix of fear and frustration. His usually sharp, clean-cut appearance was slightly disheveled—tie loosened, sleeves rolled up haphazardly. His eyes darted wildly around the room until they landed on Taerae, sitting groggily on the couch. Relief flooded his features, followed immediately by anger.

“Are you serious right now?” Matthew growled, stomping over. “Do you know how worried I was?”

Taerae stared at him, still trying to shake off his grogginess. “What are you talking about?”

Matthew held up his phone, the screen lit with Taerae’s name under a missed call notification. “You called me, didn’t say anything, didn’t answer when I called back— nothing! I thought something happened to you!”

“Oh…” Taerae blinked, the pieces slowly coming together. He rubbed his temple, trying to recall what had happened before he fell asleep. “I… I didn’t mean to worry you. I think I accidentally fell asleep while talking to Gunwook.”

“Gunwook?” Matthew’s face twisted in confusion. “The guesthouse guy?”

“Yeah,” Taerae mumbled, still piecing things together. He snatched his phone off the table, the screen lighting up with a few notifications— texts from Gunwook:

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟴:𝟯𝟯]
𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴, 𝗱𝗶𝗱 𝘂 𝗳𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝘀𝗹𝗲𝗲𝗽? ㅋㅋ

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟴:𝟯𝟱]
𝗶'𝗹𝗹 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝘂 𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗻𝗻

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟴:𝟯𝟱]
𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝘂 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝗯𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘂 𝘄𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘂𝗽!

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟴:𝟯𝟲]
𝘁𝗲𝘅𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗶𝗳 𝘂 𝗻𝗲𝗲𝗱 𝗮𝗻𝘆𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗼𝗸𝗮𝘆?

Taerae groaned, running a hand through his already-messy hair. “I must’ve passed out in the middle of the call.”

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “You don’t normally fall asleep on calls, Taerae. What happened today?”

Taerae hesitated for a moment, then motioned for Matthew to sit. As soon as Matthew plopped down beside him, Taerae began recounting everything— the confrontation with Minjae at the shop, the emotions that swirled in his chest, and the call with Gunwook that had calmed him down.

With every word, Matthew’s face grew darker, his jaw tightening. By the time Taerae was done, his best friend was seething.

“That bastard,” Matthew hissed, his fists clenched so tightly his knuckles turned white. “If I ever see him again, I swear—”

“Matthew, relax,” Taerae cut in, placing a hand on his arm. A small, tired smile tugged at his lips. “It’s fine. I handled it.”

“You shouldn’t have to handle anything when it comes to him,” Matthew snapped. “He’s a piece of garbage, and I will happily remind him of that fact if given the chance.”

Taerae chuckled despite himself. “I appreciate the thought, but violence isn’t exactly your thing, Matt.”

“I’ll make an exception,” Matthew grumbled.

The tension broke as they exchanged a small laugh, but the mood grew somber again when Taerae sighed, his gaze dropping to the floor.

“Matt,” he started, his voice quieter now, “I’ve been thinking.. I want to perform again.”

Matthew’s head snapped toward him, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “You do?”

Taerae nodded slowly. “Yeah. I think.. I’m finally ready. Minjae doesn’t get to have that power over me anymore. I let him take so much from me already, but not this. Not anymore.”

Matthew’s surprise melted into a proud, warm smile. “That’s what I like to hear. You’re Taerae. You were born to perform.”

Encouraged by his best friend’s words, Taerae felt his chest swell with a quiet determination. “I’ve been working on a new song,” he admitted, glancing at Matthew shyly. “It’s.. personal. I want to perform it for Gunwook. To tell him how I feel.”

Matthew’s grin widened, and he clapped Taerae on the back. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Let’s get you back out there. Big gigs, small gigs, karaoke bars— I don’t care where we start. We’re making this happen.”

Taerae couldn’t help but laugh, a lightness settling in his chest, feeling like he was stepping forward. He was finally ready to leave the weight of the past behind him.

—

Taerae’s first gig in months was in a small, tucked-away café nestled within a quiet alley in Seoul. The venue had charm— wooden beams stretching across the ceiling, walls adorned with faded Polaroids, and the faint aroma of roasted coffee beans blending with hints of vanilla.

Taerae arrived an hour early, his guitar case slung over one shoulder and nerves bubbling in his chest. As he set up on the modest stage, he couldn’t ignore the persistent whisper of doubt in his mind. The stage lights above, though dim, felt glaring.

Backstage, pacing the narrow corridor, he clutched his phone, rereading messages from Matthew and Gunwook.

𝗺𝗼𝗼𝗰𝗵𝘂𝘂 [𝟭𝟲:𝟭𝟴]
𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗹𝗹 𝗱𝗼 𝗴𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁, 𝗱𝗼𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗺𝘂𝗰𝗵! 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵𝗲

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟲:𝟰𝟯]
𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗸 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴~ 𝗹𝗲𝘁 𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗵𝗼𝘄 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗲𝗮𝗵?

Taking a deep breath, he shoved his phone back into his pocket. The genuinity in their words stuck with him, giving him courage. He looked at his guitar, ran his fingers along the worn wood, and reminded himself of why he was here.

When the time came to perform, his heart hammered as he stepped onto the stage. A dozen or so customers glanced up from their cups of coffee. Some smiled politely; others continued their conversations. The intimate atmosphere felt simultaneously comforting and daunting.

He adjusted the microphone and strummed his guitar. The first few notes came hesitantly, his voice faltering for a split second before finding its strength.

As Taerae moved into the chorus of his first song, his hands steadied on the guitar strings, and his voice grew more assured. The melody flowed through the room, and for the first time in what felt like ages, he let himself get lost in the music.

At first, he caught himself glancing at the audience— a couple whispering over steaming cups of coffee, a man typing on his laptop, a woman by the counter watching him intently. But as the song progressed, those details blurred into the background.

By the second song, he was no longer thinking about whether people were paying attention. His focus shifted entirely to the music— the soft strum of the guitar, the rise and fall of his voice as he hit each note.

When he finished his set, he felt a moment of silence stretch before the small crowd clapped politely. It wasn’t loud or overwhelming, but it was sincere.

The woman by the counter raised her hand in a thumbs-up, smiling warmly. Taerae grinned back, a little breathless but relieved. It wasn’t the kind of applause that shook the room, but for him, it felt monumental.

—

After leaving the café, Taerae found himself walking home with a bag of convenience store kimbap and a cup of steaming tteokbokki. The cool night air nipped at his cheeks, but he didn’t mind. There was a quiet satisfaction in his chest— a feeling he hadn’t felt in a while.

Once home, Taerae settled into his small living room, the warmth of his kotatsu table enveloping his legs. He unwrapped the kimbap, the faint aroma of seaweed and rice mixing with the spicy scent of tteokbokki. Picking up his phone, he quickly typed out a text to each Matthew and Gunwook:

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟵:𝟮𝟮]
𝘄𝗮𝗴𝗵𝗵 𝗺𝗮𝗱𝗲 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗴𝗵 𝗺𝘆 𝗳𝗶𝗿𝘀𝘁 𝗴𝗶𝗴 𝗶𝗻 𝗮 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗲 ㅠㅠ

Satisfied, he hit send and turned to his usual dinner ritual. A YouTube video of a mukbang artist eating hotpot filled the room with cheerful chatter as he popped a piece of kimbap into his mouth.

Just as he reached for a rice cake, his phone buzzed on the table. He glanced at the screen, expecting a reply from Matthew, but froze when Gunwook’s name appeared instead.

A call?

The shock caused him to inhale sharply— too sharply. He coughed, nearly choking on his food, and scrambled for his water. Gulping it down, he swiped at his phone to answer.

“Yah, Gunwook?” His voice came out a little hoarse.

“Did I catch you at a bad time?” Gunwook’s voice on the other end was calm, with a touch of amusement.

“No, no— I was just eating,” Taerae admitted, clearing his throat as he sat up straighter.

“Ah, sorry for interrupting your dinner,” Gunwook chuckled lightly. “I just wanted to say congratulations. I saw your text— how’d it go?”

Taerae smiled, the praise warming him more than his kotatsu ever could. “Thanks... It was okay, I guess. I was nervous at first, but once I started singing, it felt.. nice. Like I was back where I belong.”

“That’s good to hear,” Gunwook said softly. “I’m glad you’re finding your rhythm again.”

“What about you?” Taerae asked, leaning his elbow on the table. “Still buried in studies and the guest house?”

“Pretty much,” Gunwook admitted. “I’ve been busy with both. But..” There was a pause, the kind that made Taerae shift nervously.

“But?”

“I want to see you sing again,” Gunwook said simply. “I’ll probably be free during Christmas or New Year. Do you have gigs around that time?”

“Ah, not yet,” Taerae replied, a bit flustered. “But if something comes up, I’ll let you know.”

Gunwook hummed, satisfied. “Even if you don’t have a gig, I’ll still come to Seoul. I just want to see you.”

The words hit Taerae like a surprise note in a familiar melody. His cheeks flushed, and he quickly ducked his head, even though Gunwook couldn’t see him. “Aish, what are you saying all of a sudden?” he muttered, trying to play it off.

Gunwook chuckled on the other end, the sound deep and warm. “Just telling the truth. Anyway, I won’t keep you from your dinner. Rest well, hyung.”

“You too,” Taerae replied softly, the smile on his face lingering long after the call ended.

As he set his phone down, the warmth in his chest grew. It wasn’t just the satisfaction of a gig well done. It was knowing that, even from a distance, there was someone who cared enough to call and tell him they wanted to see him again. He slept well that night.

—

Taerae’s mornings usually started slow— a groggy shuffle to his kitchen, a quick cup of coffee, and scrolling through his emails while his brain caught up with the day before going out for a jog. But this morning was different. As he scrolled past spam and promotional messages, his heart skipped a beat when he saw the subject line:

“Urgent: Performance Opportunity – White Christmas”

He blinked at the subject line, his heart skipping a beat as he opened the email. It detailed a Christmas Eve event hosted at a prominent venue in Seoul, boasting a lineup of well-known musicians and emerging talents. One of the solo performers had to back out due to unforeseen circumstances, and the organizers were scrambling for a replacement.

Apparently, one of the event’s coordinators had stumbled upon a recording of Taerae’s recent gig on social media. They were impressed enough to reach out, offering him the vacated spot. The catch? He’d need to confirm within 24 hours and prepare a polished 15-minute set in just a week.

Taerae stared at the screen, his breath catching in his throat. This was huge— a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to showcase his music to an audience that mattered.

Without thinking, he grabbed his phone and called Matthew.

“Taerae, it’s early— what’s the emergency?” Matthew’s groggy voice came through.

“Matthew, you won’t believe this! I just got an email about a gig,” Taerae said, pacing his tiny living room.

“Another gig? That’s great, but why call me at—” Matthew paused, probably squinting at the clock. “8:12 in the morning?”

“This isn’t just any gig,” Taerae interrupted, his excitement spilling over. “It’s for Christmas Eve, at White Christmas! A musician dropped out, and they want me to replace them!”

Matthew sat up audibly, his voice now fully awake. “Wait, wait. Are you serious? That’s huge!”

“I know!” Taerae exclaimed, throwing himself onto the couch. “They found a video of my performance online and thought I’d be a good fit. Can you believe it?”

“Honestly? Yeah, I can,” Matthew said, his tone warm. “You’ve been killing it lately. This is your moment, Taerae.”

“Thanks, Matt.” Taerae’s voice softened. “It’s just a bit overwhelming,, I’ve only got a week to pull everything together.”

“You’ve got this,” Matthew reassured him. “If anyone can, it’s you. And you better invite Gunwook. He’d want to know about this.”

“I was planning to,” Taerae said, glancing at the time. “But it’s still early. He’s probably sleeping. I don’t want to disturb him— he’s been working so hard.”

Matthew let out a dramatic sigh. “Ah, so you care about his sleep, but not mine?”

Taerae laughed. “Aish, you’re impossible.”

“I’m just saying,” Matthew teased. “But seriously, make sure you tell him. He’ll want to be there.”

“I will,” Taerae promised. “Thanks, Matthew. For always being my sounding board.”

“Always. Now go confirm that gig before they change their minds!”

—

The rest of Taerae’s day felt like a blur of excitement and planning. He spent hours brainstorming his setlist, practicing in his living room, and even digging through his wardrobe for something stage-worthy.

By evening, he finally sent a text to Gunwook:

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗲 [𝟭𝟳:𝟰𝟯]
𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲, 𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗺𝗲 𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗲! 𝗶 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝘆𝗼𝘂 :𝗗

Taerae set his phone down and resumed practicing, but as the hours ticked by, the message remained unread. Gunwook was usually quick to respond, and the silence gnawed at Taerae’s nerves.

By dinner, his worry had grown into full-blown anxiety. He kept glancing at his phone, checking the message status, and even scrolling through their past conversations for comfort.

“Is something wrong..?” he muttered, tapping the screen. “You always reply by now.”

It wasn’t until late at night that Taerae finally gave up, tossing his phone onto the couch with a sigh. He tried to convince himself that Gunwook was just busy, but the nagging worry stayed with him as he stayed up to practice.

The call came just as Taerae was about to put his guitar down for the night. His phone lit up, Gunwook’s name displayed on the screen. Relief washed over him at first— he’d been worried all evening. But when he answered, Gunwook’s voice on the other end froze him.

“Hyung,” Gunwook said, his tone strained and tired, “can you come to me?”

Taerae sat up straight, his heart instantly racing. “Gunwook? What’s going on? Are you okay? Where are you?”

“I’m at a hospital,” Gunwook replied, his voice faint, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders. “In Seoul. I’ll tell you everything when you get here.”

“Which hospital?” Taerae pressed, already getting out of bed. “Tell me exactly where you are.”

Gunwook hesitated for a moment before giving him the name of the hospital and the details— level three, ICU waiting area.

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Taerae promised.

As the call ended, Taerae barely paused to grab his coat and scarf. The cold Seoul night bit at his cheeks as he stepped outside, but he barely noticed. His thoughts were consumed by Gunwook’s voice, the exhaustion and pain woven into every syllable.

Chapter Text

Taerae sat on his bed, clutching the pillow and blanket to his chest, trying to shake off the lingering embarrassment from earlier. He glanced toward the door, hearing the faint hum of the shower. It was late, and he’d already decided it would be easier to leave the items on the couch now, before Gunwook finished. The last thing he wanted was another awkward encounter.

He slipped out of his room, careful to keep his steps quiet as he crossed to the living room. The faint scent of his own laundry detergent mixed with the distant aroma of shampoo Gunwook was probably using. Setting the pillow and blanket neatly on the couch, Taerae allowed himself a small, satisfied nod.

Just as he turned to head back to his room, the bathroom door clicked open.

Taerae froze mid-step.

Gunwook emerged, still slightly damp from the shower, with a towel hanging loosely around his waist. Water droplets clung to his skin, catching the light as they slid along the lines of his toned chest. His wet hair fell over his forehead in dark strands, framing his face in a way that made him look effortlessly striking. There was a natural blush on his cheeks from the warmth of the shower, and his broad shoulders and lean figure were impossible to ignore.

“Hyung?” Gunwook’s voice startled him, bringing him back to reality.

Taerae blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to gather his thoughts. “Uh— I, um..” He cleared his throat, desperately trying to keep his eyes above Gunwook’s shoulders. “I left a pillow and blanket on the couch for you.”

Gunwook nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm with gratitude. Then, as if just remembering something, he added, “Oh, I forgot the toothbrush you left for me earlier. I think it’s still on the table by the couch.”

“Right,” Taerae said quickly, eager for an excuse to focus on something else. He grabbed the toothbrush off the table and handed it to Gunwook, their fingers brushing briefly in the exchange.

“Thanks again, hyung,” Gunwook said, his smile widening just a bit as he glanced down at the toothbrush.

Taerae nodded stiffly, retreating a step. “Good night,” he muttered, his tone curt as he turned on his heel and walked briskly back to his room.

Behind him, Gunwook stood still for a moment, watching Taerae disappear with a quiet chuckle.

Once inside, Taerae leaned against the closed door, his face buried in his hands. His heart was pounding, the image of Gunwook etched vividly into his mind. He slid down to the floor, letting out a shaky sigh.

“Shit, this is going to be a long week,” he whispered to himself.

—

Taerae woke up feeling heavier than usual, his body sluggish from barely getting only 5 hours of sleep. He couldn’t quite pin down the reason— was it the late night at the hospital, or was it the way Gunwook’s image had lingered in his mind long after their awkward interaction?

Whatever it was, his body clock didn’t care. By 7:02 a.m., he was awake, stretching lazily as he sat up in bed. With a soft groan, he shuffled into the bathroom to wash his face and brush his teeth, hoping to shake off the lingering grogginess.

As he stepped into the living room, he slowed down, his eyes landing on Gunwook. The younger man was still sound asleep on the couch, his soft snores barely audible over the morning quiet. He was curled up slightly, wearing the oversized T-shirt Taerae had lent him. The blanket Taerae had left was draped loosely over him, and the towel from the night before was neatly folded and hung over the back of a nearby chair.

He’d told Gunwook last night that they could go out to buy some clothes together, but looking at him now, Taerae decided against it. Gunwook deserved more rest— there was no need to drag him out for something so trivial.

Deciding to let him sleep, Taerae moved to the kitchen and got to work. He rummaged through the fridge, pulling out ingredients for a simple breakfast: eggs, rice, and some leftover side dishes.

The rhythmic clinking of the frying pan and the soft sizzle of oil filled the apartment as he cooked. He kept it simple but hearty, plating two portions once he was done. One he set on the dining table for himself, and the other he carefully packed into a container for Gunwook to eat later with a note.

“Eat when you wake up :)”

—

An hour later, Taerae was standing in the middle of a store, scrutinizing racks of men’s clothing. He picked out a few plain T-shirts, a couple of pairs of pants, and, after a long internal debate, some.. underwear. Guessing Gunwook’s size wasn’t easy, but Taerae decided to trust his instincts, hoping they’d fit well enough.

After paying for the clothes, he walked back home, the bag slung over one arm as the morning sun warmed the streets.

When Taerae returned, he carefully unlocked the door and stepped inside, making as little noise as possible. The apartment was as he’d left it, quiet except for Gunwook’s steady breathing.

Gunwook was still asleep, the blanket now half-off his shoulder. Taerae padded over and gently adjusted it back over him, taking care not to wake him.

Satisfied, he set the bag of clothes on the table before heading back to his room. He still had some time to prepare for his Christmas gig while he waited for Gunwook to wake up so they could go see Ms. Park later.

—

Gunwook woke with a groggy start, his head feeling heavier than usual as he blinked against the soft light filtering through the curtains. For a moment, he forgot where he was, his mind caught in that dazed space between being asleep and awake. He sat up with a low groan, running a hand through his messy hair as he tried to shake off the haze.

His throat felt dry, probably due to him overworking himself the day before. His thoughts drifted back to Ms. Park— how he’d found her unconscious on the ground, her fragile form limp and unresponsive. The memory of seeing her in the hospital bed after the surgery, pale but breathing steadily, lingered heavily in his mind.

He sighed deeply, glancing around the unfamiliar space until he noticed the clock on the wall.

"11:30?" he muttered under his breath. "Shit."

He cursed himself for sleeping in, though the exhaustion tugging at his limbs told him he needed it. As he swung his legs off the couch, his eyes landed on a paper bag sitting on the table nearby. Gunwook furrowed his brows and reached for it, peeking inside.

New clothes— T-shirts, pants.. even underwear. They were all neatly folded, tags still intact.

His lips parted in surprise. Did Taerae hyung buy these?

Setting the bag down carefully, Gunwook made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. The cool liquid eased the dryness in his throat, and as he set the glass down, he noticed a container with a sticky note attached to it on the counter.

He couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he read it. Taerae’s thoughtfulness, as simple as it was, made warmth spread through his chest.

As Gunwook made his way to Taerae's room to greet him, faint music caught his attention. A soft melody drifted from his room, accompanied by the gentle strum of a guitar and a voice that was impossibly sweet.

Gunwook moved closer. The door to Taerae’s room wasn’t fully shut, and as he peeked through the small gap, he caught sight of Taerae sitting cross-legged on his bed, his guitar resting on his lap.

Sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a golden glow over Taerae’s figure. His head was tilted slightly as he jotted something into a notebook, lips pursed in thought. His fingers moved deftly over the guitar strings, coaxing out a melody that filled the air with a warm quality.

Gunwook stood there, mesmerized. The way Taerae’s hair caught the light, the furrow of his brows as he worked, the way his voice intertwined with the melody— it all felt so effortlessly captivating.

Without thinking, Gunwook gently knocked on the doorframe. The soft sound broke the trance, and Taerae looked up, his face brightening as soon as he saw him.

"Ah, Gunwook— good morning!" Taerae greeted, setting his pen aside and carefully placing his guitar next to him. He stood up and walked over to Gunwook, his expression warm and welcoming.

"How are you feeling?" Taerae asked, his voice soft with concern.

Gunwook didn’t respond immediately. He simply stood there, taking in the sight of Taerae in the warm light, the weight on his chest now didn’t feel as suffocating. The heaviness in his mind eased, replaced by an unexpected sense of comfort.

Ah.. I could get used to this, the thought came unbidden. Seeing this every day.

Before he could stop himself, Gunwook reached out and pulled Taerae into a hug, sighing softly as he rested his chin on the smaller man’s head.

Taerae froze, his face heating up as Gunwook’s arms enveloped him. His cheek pressed awkwardly against Gunwook’s chest, and his arms hung stiffly at his sides, unsure where to go.

"Gunwook..?" he managed, his voice a pitch higher than usual.

But Gunwook didn’t say anything, his hold tightening just slightly as he let out another quiet sigh. Taerae stayed still, heart pounding wildly in his chest. Despite his confusion, he didn’t push Gunwook away.

Instead, he let the taller man hold him, even when his heart was threatening to burst out of his chest.

After a bit, Gunwook’s arms finally loosened, and he stepped back, letting Taerae go. For a moment, their eyes met— Gunwook’s gaze warm but tinged with a flicker of embarrassment. Taerae, however, quickly averted his gaze, his cheeks still flushed as he stared intently at the floor.

"Sorry," Gunwook muttered, rubbing the back of his neck.

"It’s fine," Taerae replied quickly, his voice quieter than usual. His hands fidgeted at his sides as if unsure what to do with them.

The awkward silence stretched between them, until Gunwook’s phone buzzed in his pocket, breaking the tension. He pulled it out, frowning as he saw the caller ID.

“Hello?”

A brief pause. Then, Gunwook’s expression shifted, his eyes widening slightly, his lips parting as though he needed a moment to process the news.

“Really?” His voice carried a mix of disbelief and relief, his body almost sagging as he exhaled. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be there soon.”

Taerae’s gaze flicked back up, watching as Gunwook ended the call, lowering the phone.

“Ms. Park just woke up,” Gunwook said, his voice soft but laced with palpable relief.

—

After receiving the call from the hospital, Gunwook and Taerae had wasted no time. They quickly got ready and left, neither of them saying much during the car ride as their thoughts were focused on Ms. Park.

Gunwook opened the door to her room with a cautious push, his heartbeat picking up as he stepped inside. His eyes immediately landed on Ms. Park sitting upright in bed, her small frame propped up by pillows. The pale light from the window highlighted the gentle smile on her face as she turned toward the door.

The tension in his chest disappeared as relief washed over him, leaving his shoulders sagging. “Ms. Park,” he called out softly, his voice thick with emotion.

Ms. Park’s smile widened, her eyes crinkling at the corners. “Gunwook, my boy. There you are.”

Without a second thought, Gunwook closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her in a tight hug. She felt so small in his embrace, but warm, and alive— so very alive.

“You scared me,” Gunwook whispered, his voice trembling as he buried his face in her shoulder. “I didn’t know what to do...”

Ms. Park chuckled softly, her hand coming up to stroke his hair. “Oh, my sweet boy.. I’m sorry for worrying you. I’m alright now, see? Everything’s fine.”

Gunwook nodded against her shoulder, holding her for a moment longer before reluctantly pulling away. His eyes scanned her face, noting how much brighter she looked compared to the day before.

Taerae stood quietly at the door, watching the scene unfold. He stayed back, his hands clasped in front of him, content to let Gunwook and Ms. Park share this moment. Relief filled his chest seeing her up and smiling; she truly seemed like her usual self again.

Ms. Park’s gaze shifted to Taerae, her face lighting up further. “Oh my, is that Taerae? Come here, my dear.”

Taerae hesitated for a moment before stepping closer. “Hello, Ms. Park,” he said softly, his lips curving into a small smile.

“Come here and give me a hug,” she insisted, opening her arms. “You’re as handsome as ever.”

A faint blush crept up Taerae’s cheeks, but he leaned down to wrap his arms around her in a gentle embrace. “I’m glad to see you looking so much better,” he said sincerely.

Ms. Park patted his back fondly. “And I’m glad to see you too. You look wonderful. There’s a glow to you, my dear. Life is treating you well, I hope?”

Taerae chuckled nervously as he pulled back. “I’m doing okay, Ms. Park.”

Ms. Park tilted her head, a curious smile playing on her lips. “But what are you doing here? I didn’t expect to see you of all people.”

Gunwook answered for him this time, his voice soft but steady. “I called Taerae hyung last night. I.. didn’t know who else to call. He's been helping me since then.”

Her eyes glistened with warmth as she looked between the two. “Thank you, Taerae. I can’t tell you how much it means to me that you’re here for Gunwook— and for me.”

A knock at the door interrupted them, and a doctor entered, holding a clipboard. He greeted them with a polite smile before addressing Ms. Park.

“Good afternoon, Ms. Park. It’s good to see you looking alert and well,” he said, flipping through his notes. “The surgery went smoothly, and your recovery is progressing as expected. That said, we’ll need to keep you here for about a week to monitor your condition and ensure there are no complications. After you’re discharged, you’ll need to rest for at least a month at home— no strenuous activities, and follow-up checkups will be scheduled.”

Ms. Park nodded, her expression composed. “Thank you, doctor. I’ll make sure to follow your instructions.”

The doctor smiled. “Good. If you need anything, don’t hesitate to call for a nurse. I’ll check on you again later.” With that, he excused himself and left the room.

Ms. Park turned to Gunwook, her brow furrowing slightly. “What about the guesthouse, Gunwook? You’re not staying here, are you? Do you need to go back?”

Gunwook shook his head firmly. “Don't worry, Gyuvin and Junhyeon have everything under control at the guesthouse. I’m staying with Taerae hyung for now, so I’ll come by every day to see you and help however I can.”

Ms. Park’s face softened, and she reached out to hold his hand. “You’ve already done so much. Thank you, Gunwook.” Her gaze shifted to Taerae again, her smile widening. “And you too, my dear. You boys are truly a blessing.”

Taerae ducked his head, a shy smile tugging at his lips. “It’s the least we can do, Ms. Park.”

The rest of the day passed in comforting warmth, spent entirely in Ms. Park’s hospital room. She sat propped up in bed, her cheeks showing a healthy flush after a proper meal, her voice light and full of affection as she caught up with Taerae.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you, Taerae,” she began, her words carrying a gentle tone as she adjusted her blanket. “What have you been up to? You haven’t been working yourself too hard, have you?”

Taerae chuckled, scratching the back of his neck in mild embarrassment. “I’ve been alright, Ms. Park. Just busy with gigs and writing songs. You know how it is.”

Ms. Park tilted her head with a knowing smile. “Still charming the crowds, I bet. You did have a way of lighting up a room.”

As they talked, Taerae decided to introduce her to something fun— a taste of what young people in the city were raving about. A few taps on his phone later, a takeout delivery arrived at the hospital. When he laid the spread on the table— a variety of fried chicken flavors, kimchi fries, and boba tea— Ms. Park raised an eyebrow in amused curiosity.

“This is what kids are into these days?” she teased, picking up a piece of chicken and inspecting it as if it were a rare gem.

“Yep,” Taerae replied with a proud grin. “Welcome to the city life, Ms. Park. Consider it a modern culinary experience.”

Gunwook laughed, his gummy, full smile lighting up the room. “You sound like you’re advertising it, hyung.”

“Maybe I am. Good things should be shared,” Taerae shot back, grabbing a piece of chicken for himself.

The room was filled with easy conversation and laughter as they shared the meal. Taerae and Gunwook took turns explaining the foods, their lighthearted banter making Ms. Park laugh more than once. Even Gunwook, usually more reserved around her, shared stories, his affection for Ms. Park shining through.

When it was time to leave, the atmosphere turned quieter but still warm. Ms. Park took Gunwook’s hand in hers, her expression soft. “Thank you for today, Gunwook. But you don’t need to spend every moment here. Go out and enjoy yourself, alright? Go somewhere fun with Taerae while you’re in Seoul.”

Gunwook nodded but smiled in a way that hinted he’d still be back. “I’ll come by tomorrow. Get some rest, Ms. Park.”

As they stepped out into the crisp night air, the city hummed softly around them. Gunwook walked beside Taerae, both of them wrapped in warm coats to fend off the cold. The silence between them was comfortable, until Gunwook suddenly turned to Taerae, his brows furrowed in thought.

“Oh—” he said, breaking the quiet. “What did you want to tell me yesterday? Over text, I mean. Sorry, I completely forgot to ask...”

Taerae’s steps faltered slightly before he turned to face Gunwook, a spark of excitement lighting up his expression. “Ah– right! I scored a huge gig. One of the biggest venues I’ve ever performed at.” He paused, his cheeks flushing slightly from more than just the cold. “I wanted to tell you because I want you to come.”

Gunwook’s reaction was immediate. His face broke into a grin, his excitement contagious. “Shut up– that’s amazing! Of course, I'm already here anyway. I’ve been dying for a chance to watch you perform again, hyung.”

Taerae’s heart swelled at the response, and they spent the rest of the walk back to his apartment talking about the gig and everything leading up to it.

—

The week that followed passed in a blur of shared moments. Each day started with a visit to Ms. Park, who was steadily recovering, her spirits high as she laughed and joked with the boys. Taerae often brought her small treats or gifts for her sweet tooth, while Gunwook never left without checking that her needs were fully met.

When they weren’t at the hospital, the two explored the city, indulging in food hunts, watching movies, and searching for Christmas gifts. They even spent an evening baking cookies— though the results leaned more toward crispy than golden. All the while, Taerae continued to practice for his upcoming gig, often retreating to his room to work on his setlist. Gunwook, true to his word, avoided listening, saying he wanted to experience it fully during the actual performance.

The night before the gig, Taerae was in his room, headphones on, tweaking the final details of his setlist. Gunwook lounged on the couch in the living room, half-watching a variety show on TV, letting the background noise fill the space.

The faint jingle of keys outside the door caught Gunwook’s attention. He sat up slightly, curious, just as the door swung open.

Matthew stepped in, his expression calm— until his eyes landed on Gunwook.

Both of them froze.

“What the fuck?” Matthew blurted, his voice cutting through the quiet like a knife.

Gunwook blinked, staring back in equal shock. Am I in trouble?

Chapter Text

Gunwook and Taerae sat side by side on the couch, their shoulders nearly touching yet neither daring to move. Both of their gazes were fixed firmly on the floor, as if it held all the answers to the questions they didn’t want to face. Across from them, Matthew stood like a strict parent, arms crossed, his face a picture of exasperation.

“So,” Matthew began, dragging the word out with deliberate weight. “Mind telling me what’s going on here?”

The silence that followed was deafening. Taerae fidgeted, nibbling on his bottom lip, his hands twisting together in his lap. Gunwook, normally composed and self-assured, sat frozen beside him, his eyes darting to Matthew before quickly returning to the floor.

“I can explain,” Taerae finally muttered, his voice almost swallowed by the tension in the room.

Matthew raised an eyebrow. “You better,” he said flatly, his unimpressed tone like a gavel slamming down.

His gaze shifted to Gunwook, eyes narrowing as he leaned slightly forward. “And you,” he started, his voice sharp and cutting. “You’re not taking advantage of my best friend, are you? Are you freeloading him? Or doing.. something else?” His words hung in the air, heavy with accusation.

Gunwook blinked, caught off guard. “I—” He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing coherent came out.

“Matthew!” Taerae exclaimed, the flush on his cheeks spreading to his ears. “Stop it— don’t accuse him like that... It’s not like that at all.”

Matthew crossed his arms tighter, his skeptical gaze lingering. “Then explain. Right now.”

Taerae took a deep breath, his head drooping as he ran a hand through his hair. “It’s— it’s not what it looks like, okay?” he said, his voice slightly strained. “Just hear me out.”

With that, he launched into the full story— how Ms. Park had collapsed, Gunwook’s decision to stay and help, and the circumstances that led to him staying temporarily in Taerae’s apartment. The words spilled out in a flurry, Taerae desperate to make it clear that nothing inappropriate had happened. By the time he finished, the room felt a little lighter, though Matthew’s expression remained unreadable for a moment longer.

Finally, Matthew let out a sigh, his arms dropping to his sides. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer now. He glanced at Gunwook, his earlier hostility replaced by a touch of guilt. “Sorry. I jumped to conclusions. That was.. a lot to hear— and sorry about what happened to Ms. Park. That must've been rough.”

Gunwook gave a small nod. “Thanks. And it’s okay— I get it. You were just looking out for Taerae hyung.”

“Yeah, well,” Matthew said, scratching the back of his neck, “I guess I went a little overboard.” He turned back to Taerae, his sharp demeanor returning. “But seriously, why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

Taerae blinked. “I thought it'd be simpler if you just don't know about it.. Why are you even here anyway?”

Matthew straightened up, his usual confidence returning. “Ah, right. Your gig. It’s tomorrow, isn’t it? I came to make sure you’re ready.”

Taerae tilted his head, puzzled. “I mean.. yeah? I’ve got rehearsal in the evening, and the performance is at night.”

“And are you ready for it?” Matthew pressed, his tone pointed. “Setlist? Equipment? Everything good to go?”

“Yes, Matthew,” Taerae said, sighing but smiling.

Matthew gave him a once-over, his gaze scrutinizing. “What about your outfit?”

“My outfit?” Taerae repeated, frowning slightly. “I was just going to wear—”

“—the black shirt and leather jacket, ripped jeans, and that old chain you love,” Matthew interrupted, his words so precise they might as well have been pulled from Taerae’s own thoughts.

Both Taerae and Gunwook stared at him, their jaws dropping in unison.

“How did you—” Taerae began, his voice trailing off.

Matthew shrugged. “I’ve known you for years, Taerae. You're so predictable. Anyway, you’re not wearing that.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” Matthew leaned in, his expression dead serious. “I already hired a some people to handle everything. Head to toe. Hair, makeup, outfit— the works. Oh, and I got a photographer to film the whole performance. This gig is huge, Taerae, and I’m not letting you waste it by looking like you just rolled out of bed.”

Taerae’s mouth opened and closed a few times, words failing him. A wave of gratitude and disbelief washed over him, leaving him stunned.

“Matthew, I...”

“Don’t thank me,” Matthew interrupted, waving a hand dismissively. “Just don’t embarrass me, okay? I’m doing this for your own good.”

Taerae nodded, his lips curling into a small, grateful smile. “I won't embarrass you.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Matthew said, grabbing his jacket and heading to the door.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, the tension in the room dissolved, and Taerae turned to Gunwook.

For a moment, they simply looked at each other, and then—

They burst into laughter.

“Your friend is something else,” Gunwook said, still chuckling as he leaned back into the couch.

“You have no idea,” Taerae replied, wiping a tear from his eye. “But he’s the best.”

Gunwook nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Yeah, I can see that.”

And with that, the room settled into a comfortable silence, the earlier tension now dissipated.

—

The morning light seeped through the curtains, casting a soft glow over Taerae's room. Taerae groggily opened his eyes, realizing with a start that he had slept in later than usual. The clock by his bedside read 9:03 AM. He groaned, pressing his face into the pillow for a few moments before pushing himself up. Last night had been restless— his mind racing with the nerves of what the day held. He had been preparing for this moment for weeks, but the nerves found a way to creep in.

The day before Christmas. The day he’d perform at White Christmas, the event he’d worked so hard for. And the day he hoped to make things official with Gunwook, asking him to be his boyfriend.

The two of them had already crossed many boundaries in their relationship. They acted like boyfriends already, but neither of them had called it what it was. They were more than just friends, totally not a situationship— but they never really talked about what they were. Taerae sometimes caught himself wondering why. Was it because they were both too afraid to label it? To define it, in case it somehow ruined what they had?

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair, trying to stop overthinking. He had spent the past week preparing for this day— practicing his setlist, writing a song for Gunwook, and taking extra care of his health so he could perform at his best. He wanted to be perfect for this, for the people watching and for Gunwook. After all, it was going to be a big day, and he wasn’t about to let nerves ruin it. But even so, he couldn’t help the weight of expectation hanging over him. It was the first time he’d be performing at such a huge event, and his anxiety always had a way of catching up with him.

The rehearsal would be later in the evening, but he had to leave early to go to the various locations Matthew had set up for his preparation— hair, makeup, outfit. Matthew had already arranged everything. The pressure to look perfect made Taerae feel a little nauseous. It wasn’t like him to feel this anxious— usually, his hands would shake when he was nervous, but this time, it was different. It was like his stomach was in knots.

Taerae dragged himself out of bed and shuffled to the kitchen to get a glass of water. Maybe he could make a quick breakfast before he left. He hadn’t expected to feel this anxious so early, but there he was, stomach churning. He needed something to calm himself, something to ground him before the chaos of the day began.

As he entered the kitchen, he was immediately struck by the absence of Gunwook. He wasn’t lying on the couch asleep, and the bathroom door was wide open. Gunwook’s shoes also weren’t by the door, either. Taerae paused, a little concerned. Where had he gone?

His thoughts were interrupted when his gaze fell on the counter. There, neatly wrapped in brown paper, was a sandwich. A note was tucked under the sandwich, written in a neat handwriting.

“Don’t skip breakfast, hyung. I’m leaving early to see Ms. Park, but I’ll see you at the event. Take care! :D”

Taerae felt his heart warm, and the tightness in his chest loosened slightly. The sandwich— he carefully unwrapped it— was not just a normal sandwich. It was something more.. thoughtful. The bread was a thick, crusty sourdough, the kind you’d find in high-end cafés, toasted to perfection. Inside was a generous layer of creamy scrambled eggs, paired with crispy smoked bacon, fresh avocado slices, and a hint of tangy mustard that complemented the richness of the filling.

It was simple, but there was a care in it that made Taerae’s heart flutter. He could tell it had been made with intention, a small gesture that made all the difference.

Sitting at the kitchen table, he took a bite, and immediately the tension in his body eased. The warmth of the sandwich filled him with a quiet comfort, and for a moment, he could forget about his nerves. His mind wandered back to Gunwook and the small things he did for Taerae— like this. It wasn’t just the sandwich. It was how he always seemed to know when Taerae needed a little reassurance. The anxiety, though it hadn’t disappeared entirely, was much more manageable now.

—

Taerae's first stop was the boutique, a cozy little shop known for its curated selection of stylish but understated clothing. The door chimed softly as he entered, the atmosphere warm and inviting, with the gentle hum of jazz music in the background. Neatly arranged shelves and racks were filled with everything from classic pieces to more contemporary designs.

"Taerae?" a voice called out from behind the counter. Taerae turned to see Zhanghao and Hanbin, the couple who owned the boutique. They greeted him with bright smiles, their warm presence immediately making him feel at ease.

"We’ve been expecting you," Zhanghao said, his smile widening as he stepped forward. "Here for your Christmas event look?" Hanbin raised an eyebrow, confirming with a glance.

"Yeah," Taerae replied. "Just something that fits the theme.. not too flashy, but still looks nice."

Zhanghao gave a reassuring smile. "No problem. And don’t worry about the payment— Matthew’s already taken care of it, so you can just relax and let us work our magic."

Taerae blinked, surprised. "Oh.. Matthew paid?"

"Yep," Hanbin chimed in. "He was very clear about it. Just let us help you get the perfect look."

Feeling a little less stressed now that the payment was sorted, Taerae nodded in appreciation. "Thanks, that makes things easier."

"Of course! Now, stand still for a moment while we figure out what will work best for you," Zhanghao said, his eyes scanning Taerae from head to toe. Hanbin circled him, assessing the look before exchanging a brief, knowing glance with Zhanghao.

The couple quickly got to work, pulling out different pieces from the racks and testing various combinations, occasionally holding up garments to Taerae for approval. After a few minutes of trial and error, they finally settled on the perfect ensemble.

"Try this," Zhanghao suggested, handing him a light blue dress shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows. They paired it with a velvet red tie with silver stripes, and over the shirt, Taerae slipped on a soft beige wool vest that hugged him just right. The shirt and vest were tucked neatly into a pair of lighter beige khaki pants, a classic black leather belt cinched the waist and to finish the look, black leather shoes gleamed, polished to perfection.

For finishing touches, they gave Taerae a sleek silver watch and a couple of subtle rings, adding just the right amount of refinement without drawing too much attention.

Taerae took a moment to examine himself in the mirror. The outfit gave off a neat, confident vibe— polished yet approachable. The combination of the light blue shirt and red tie stood out just enough, while the beige tones kept the look grounded. It was stylish without being too loud, exactly what he had hoped for.

“You look great, Taerae,” Zhanghao said with a satisfied nod.

“Yeah, you’ll definitely turn heads tonight,” Hanbin added, his smile warm and approving.

Taerae couldn’t help but smile back. "Thanks so much.. I really appreciate it."

Zhanghao stepped forward again, this time with a thoughtful expression. "It’s all set, but since you’re running short on time, we’ll have the outfit delivered straight to the venue later in the evening. We don’t want it to get wrinkled or anything before the event."

Taerae’s eyes widened in surprise. "Oh… you can do that?"

“Of course!” Hanbin assured him with a grin. “Don’t worry about a thing. We’ll have it sent over so you can focus on preparing for the event.”

Taerae blinked, still a little in awe. “That’s so kind of you– thank you.”

"Anything for you!" Zhanghao said. "Just focus on performing well tonight. We’ll take care of the rest."

Taerae nodded gratefully. "I really appreciate it."

As he left the boutique, feeling lighter with the outfit all set, Taerae couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and relief.

He then made his way to the next stop, a nearby hair salon where he had an appointment for a haircut. The small bell above the door jingled as he entered, greeted by the familiar, soft scent of hair products and the hum of blow dryers. He glanced around, his eyes landing on a figure at the counter.

It was Jiwoong, Matthew’s boyfriend, who smiled when he saw Taerae walk in. "Taerae! Good to see you," Jiwoong greeted, wiping his hands on a towel as he approached.

"Jiwoong hyung?" Taerae replied, offering a small smile. "How’ve you been?"

"I'm good, thanks for asking," Jiwoong replied casually, his voice warm and friendly. He paused for a moment, his gaze softening. "Matthew told me everything— he talks about you a lot. I heard you’ve had a bit of a rough time lately?"

Taerae nodded, his smile still small but appreciative. "Yeah, I'm alright though, nothing to worry about."

Jiwoong studied him for a moment before nodding. "Well, I’m glad you’re doing better. Anyway, let me get you settled. You’re in good hands today."

He led Taerae to a comfortable chair by the window, where soft natural light bathed the space. "So, what kind of look do you want for the event tonight?" Jiwoong asked as he began to drape a protective cape over Taerae’s shoulders.

Taerae hesitated for a moment. "I’m not really sure.. maybe a two-block haircut?" he suggested. "I usually keep my hair down, but I want to look a bit different tonight. What do you think?"

Jiwoong’s eyes lit up at the suggestion. "That’ll look great on you. It's sharp, but still easy to maintain. You’ll definitely stand out." He gave a reassuring smile before picking up his scissors.

The rhythmic sound of snipping filled the air as Jiwoong worked, his hands moving with practiced precision. Taerae felt his head being gently guided from one side to the other as Jiwoong worked on the back and sides, trimming them short with clean, even strokes. The sound of the scissors was soon joined by the hum of a blow dryer as Jiwoong styled the top, giving it volume and shape.

Occasionally, Jiwoong would stop to check the symmetry of his work, adjusting the cut slightly to make sure everything was perfect. Taerae felt a few stray hairs tickle his neck, but Jiwoong was quick to blow them away, keeping the strands from falling down into Taerae's shirt. The process was smooth, and Taerae couldn’t help but feel relaxed under Jiwoong’s skilled hands.

Finally, after some finishing touches, Jiwoong stepped back, admiring his work. "Alright, how does that look?"

Taerae glanced into the mirror, his eyes widening slightly at the transformation. The two-block haircut gave him a fresh, edgy look. The change was subtle but noticeable— he looked more put together, more confident.

"Wow," Taerae murmured, brushing a hand through his hair. "This is exactly what I had in mind. Thanks, hyung."

"Of course!" Jiwoong grinned, wiping his hands off again. "You’re looking great. I’ll be at the event later to fix it up again before your performance, okay?"

Taerae nodded gratefully. "I really appreciate that. Thanks again for the help."

He reached for his wallet, but Jiwoong immediately stopped him. "It’s on me," he said with a friendly smile. "I want to do something nice for Matthew's best friend. You’ve been through a lot too, and I’m happy to help."

Taerae blinked in surprise, then smiled softly. "Seriously?"

"Mhm," Jiwoong hums with a reassuring nod. "You’re all set. Now go rock that event."

Taerae stood up, feeling lighter than before. With his fresh haircut and the outfit all sorted, he was almost ready. He gave Jiwoong one last thankful nod before heading for the door, his mind already shifting toward the next step.

Matthew had mentioned that he’d be getting his makeup done after the rehearsal, so Taerae figured it was the perfect time to head to the venue for rehearsals and soundcheck. The night was finally starting to come together. 

Or so Taerae thought.

—

Taerae had been performing for a while now— mostly smaller gigs at cafes, bars, and other venues. But this was different. This was his first time performing at such a large-scale event, and the backstage atmosphere felt like a whole new world. The venue was alive with activity, the air thick with anticipation. Crew members darted around, adjusting equipment, checking the lighting, and making sure every detail was perfect.

Taerae was led to a side area, where the event organizer greeted him and helped him get set up for the rehearsal. He’d seen soundchecks before, but this was the first time he was the one running through the motions. As the crew tested microphones and speakers, Taerae watched, absorbing the process. The sound engineer adjusted the audio levels, and the lighting technician made sure the stage was well-lit from all angles. In between, performers ran through their songs, adjusting their timing to match the flow of the event. Taerae tried to stay out of the way but kept a close eye on everything. He wasn’t used to this kind of environment, but it was exciting to learn how everything came together.

While he was waiting for his turn, Taerae noticed something out of the corner of his eye— a familiar figure standing near the stage. When he looked up again, the person was gone.

He blinked, his heart racing for a moment before shrugging it off. It was probably just his imagination. He had enough to focus on without getting distracted.

As the rehearsal moved forward, Taerae headed to the stage until he heard a voice from behind him.

"Finally back to performing, hm?"

Taerae froze, the voice instantly recognizable. It was smooth, condescending, and dripping with arrogance. He spun around, and there, standing in the shadows behind him, was the sponsor— the same man Minjae had cheated on him with.

Taerae’s pulse quickened, but not in the way it used to. He had braced himself for this moment, expecting to feel angry or bitter, but instead, he felt a strange kind of calm. Sure, there was some irritation, but it was more like an inconvenience than anything else.

He raised an eyebrow, his voice cool. "What are you doing here? I don’t remember seeing Minjae's name on the performers list."

The sponsor gave a nonchalant smile. "He's using a stage name now," he said, his tone smooth as ever. "Guess you didn’t know that."

Taerae gave a small shrug, unaffected by the revelation. "Doesn’t really bother me," he said, turning his gaze back to the stage, already feeling like this conversation was over. 

Just as he turned to walk away, Minjae stepped off the stage. Their eyes met, and Taerae could see it— he could see the way Minjae looked at him. There was something in his eyes, something that almost seemed like regret. For a moment, it seemed like Minjae was about to say something, but Taerae wasn’t interested. He didn’t care about him anymore.

Without skipping a beat, Taerae cut him off, his voice sharp and dismissive. "Sorry, no time to talk," he said, brushing past Minjae as he made his way to the stage. As their shoulders brushed, Taerae felt a brief surge of satisfaction. Minjae didn’t matter anymore.

He turned back for just a second, flicking both Minjae and the sponsor a sweet, teasing smile, his fingers flicking up into a casual middle finger salute. "Have a good one," he added, before stepping up onto the stage for his rehearsal.

Minjae didn’t say anything. Taerae didn’t need him to. He knew that, at that moment, he had the power.

As Taerae prepared for his set, he realized something. It didn’t matter what the sponsor or Minjae did anymore. He wasn’t going to let them— or anyone— take this night away from him. This was his time, and he wasn’t going to let anyone ruin it.

—

Later that evening, backstage, Taerae sat in a chair in front of a large, brightly lit vanity mirror, feeling the finishing touches of the night beginning to come together. Ricky, the makeup artist Matthew had hired, was hard at work, carefully applying a makeup look that was natural but with a subtle emphasis on the blush. Each stroke of the brush seemed to bring Taerae closer to the polished image he was aiming for— a look that would feel both effortless and striking under the stage lights.

Ricky was quiet, focused, and incredibly skilled. The light dusting of blush brought a soft warmth to Taerae’s cheeks, enhancing his features without overdoing it. His lips were given a touch of color that made them look just a little fuller, while his eyes were subtly defined.

Matthew stood off to the side, holding the carefully packaged outfit Taerae would soon wear. Jiwoong leaned against the wall, waiting for Ricky to finish so he could get to work on Taerae’s hair. The two of them watched as Ricky worked his magic, their quiet support filling the room with a sense of calm.

“Yah, Taerae– I just found out that the jerk is performing too.” Matthew suddenly broke the silence, his voice dripping with disdain. His scoff echoed faintly through the room.

Taerae glanced at him through the mirror, amused. "Minjae?"

Matthew nodded. "Should I throw a pie on stage during his performance? I think it’d really liven up the mood."

Jiwoong chuckled, stepping closer to rub comforting circles into Matthew’s back. “Relax, babe. Let Taerae shine tonight. That’s revenge enough.”

Even Taerae couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as Ricky concentrated on blending the makeup seamlessly. “It’s fine, Matt. Really. I’m over it.”

Matthew huffed but relented, though he still muttered something about how unfair it was that Minjae even got invited.

Ricky finally pulled back, satisfied with his work. “All done,” he said simply, stepping aside to let Taerae admire the finished look in the mirror. “Just try not to touch your face too much or wipe it with anything. It should hold for the night.”

Taerae turned his head slightly, taking in the flawless look. “Thanks, Ricky. You’re amazing.”

Ricky gave a small nod, his lips twitching upward briefly in acknowledgment before packing up his kit. With that, Jiwoong stepped in, running his hands through Taerae’s hair to assess it.

“Alright, let’s make this even better,” Jiwoong said, grabbing a comb and setting to work. He skillfully refined the two-block haircut he’d given Taerae earlier, styling it with a bit more volume and texture to complement his makeup. He carefully used hairspray to set the look without making it stiff, ensuring everything stayed perfect for the night ahead.

When Jiwoong finished, Taerae stood and made his way to the small partitioned changing area. The outfit Zhanghao and Hanbin had picked out for him was neatly laid out, ready to transform him completely. He slipped into it, smoothing out the fabric and adjusting the fit until it felt just right.

Finally, he stepped out, turning toward the trio. “How do I look?”

Matthew gasped dramatically, clutching his chest as if he’d been struck. “I swear, if Gunwook doesn’t propose to you tonight, I’ll do it myself. You look amazing!”

Jiwoong and Ricky chuckled softly while Taerae rolled his eyes. “Alright, alright. I get it.”

Matthew then walked over to him with a grin before hugging him gently. “Good luck out there, star. You’re gonna kill it.”

Ricky, Jiwoong, and Matthew excused themselves, leaving Taerae alone in the room for a moment. He sat back down at the vanity, glancing at his phone. A new message lit up the screen, and he opened it. It was from Gunwook— a photo of the stage taken from the crowd, with a couple of short texts underneath.

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟵:𝟮𝟴]
𝗰𝗮𝗻'𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝗲𝗲 𝘂 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴!

𝘄𝗼𝗼𝗸𝗶𝗲 [𝟭𝟵:𝟮𝟴]
𝗴𝗼𝗼𝗱 𝗹𝘂𝗰𝗸 ♡♡

Taerae smiled, feeling his nerves twist in a way that was almost comforting. It was finally happening. The stage was waiting for him, his guitar was ready, and so was he.

With one last look at his reflection, Taerae stood, his heart pounding with excitement. It was his moment, and he was ready to take it.

Just as he stood up, a staff member peeked into the room, clipboard in hand. “Taerae, you're on standby. You're up next.”

Chapter Text

Loud cheers and applause filled the venue as the performer before Taerae bowed and exited the stage. The sound was deafening, echoing backstage and causing Taerae’s pulse to quicken. He stood gripping his guitar tightly, his palms slightly damp as anticipation coursed through him.

This was it— the moment he’d been preparing for. Yet the sheer size of the audience was overwhelming, unlike anything he’d experienced in the small cafes and bars he’d performed at before.

The host’s voice boomed over the speakers, introducing the next act, but Taerae barely heard him. His thoughts were running wild, trying to steady himself when—

“Please give a warm welcome to Kim Taerae!”

The crowd roared, and Taerae stepped out onto the stage, his heart hammering in his chest. As the spotlight hit him, a wave of warmth washed over him. He smiled, bowing politely before making his way to the center of the stage.

The applause faded slightly as Taerae adjusted the microphone stand and slung his guitar strap over his shoulder. His eyes darted across the audience, scanning the sea of faces. Somewhere out there was Yujin, the cameraman Matthew had told him to look for. Taerae remembered the picture Matthew had shown him and soon spotted the young man, camera in hand, positioned front and center. Taerae gave him a small nod and an encouraging smile, making a mental note to occasionally look his way.

His gaze continued to wander, and then he saw them— Matthew, Jiwoong, and Gunwook. They stood near the middle of the crowd, their faces glowing with pride and anticipation. Matthew waved excitedly, while Jiwoong stood coolly beside him, his comforting presence evident even from afar.

And then there was Gunwook. Dressed in a dark green sweater that complimented his figure, with a scarf casually draped around his neck, he stood slightly on his toes to get a better view of the stage. His arms were crossed, but the bright, genuine smile on his face softened his usually confident demeanor.

When their eyes met, it was as if the rest of the world was black and white, but they were in screaming colors. Gunwook’s warm smile reached his eyes, and Taerae felt his nerves melt away, replaced with a sense of calm and reassurance. He smiled back, grounding himself in that brief yet powerful connection.

Clearing his throat, Taerae stepped closer to the microphone.

“Good evening, everyone,” he began, his voice steady despite the butterflies in his stomach. “My name is Taerae, and I’m so grateful to be here tonight. Thank you for having me. I hope you enjoy the songs I’ve prepared for you.”

The crowd erupted into cheers and applause once again, fueling Taerae’s excitement. He adjusted the microphone one last time and began to play, his fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings of his guitar.

The first song set the tone for the evening, pulling the audience into his world. Each strum, each note carried a piece of his heart. His voice was warm and soulful, captivating the crowd. He even caught glimpses of Matthew, who looked ready to burst into tears, and Jiwoong, patting Matthew’s shoulder in amusement.

By the second song, Taerae had found his rhythm. Occasionally, he glanced at Yujin’s camera, flashing a soft smile before focusing back on the music. The crowd swayed and clapped along, their energy feeding his performance.

Through the third and fourth songs, Taerae’s confidence grew. His voice carried effortlessly over the audience, his guitar complementing every note. The crowd was fully immersed, clapping and cheering in rhythm.

And in between, his gaze would find Gunwook. The younger man’s unwavering attention and bright smile reminded Taerae why he loved performing— why he’d fought to get back on stage after what he’d been through.

The applause was still ringing in Taerae’s ears as he adjusted his guitar, his heart pounding not from nerves now, but from the excitement of what was to come. He stepped closer to the microphone, his smile soft but full of anticipation.

“Are you enjoying my performances so far, everyone?” he asked, his voice resonating through the venue, and the audience erupted into a collective, enthusiastic “Yes!”

Taerae chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. “Ah, thank you so much,” he said, bowing his head in gratitude. “For the last song, I’ve actually prepared an original piece.”

The crowd responded with an impressed "Ooooh," their excitement evident. Taerae’s dimples deepened as his smile grew wider, the reaction fueling his confidence.

“I wrote this song with a special someone in mind,” he continued, his eyes scanning the crowd before locking onto Gunwook. For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them.

Gunwook’s brows lifted in surprise, his posture stiffening as he locked eyes with Taerae. Was the song for him?

“It’s silly…” Taerae admitted with a sheepish laugh, his voice carrying a bittersweet tone. “Can you believe I almost gave up on music? Over a heartbreak?”

The audience grew quieter, listening intently to his story. Taerae’s expression turned serious but tender as he spoke, his fingers absentmindedly strumming a soft chord on the guitar.

“I was broken,” he continued, his voice tinged with vulnerability. “But this person told me that my voice is beautiful, and that I shouldn’t just let someone take this away from me.”

Gunwook’s eyes widened slightly, his arms unfolding as he leaned forward, listening as he confirmed that the words were meant for him.

“So here I am,” Taerae said, his gaze unwavering as it found Gunwook’s again. The warmth in his eyes and the smile on his lips held a quiet strength, a gratitude so deep it couldn’t be put into words.

“This song’s for you.”

The heartfelt smile Taerae gave him sent a wave of emotion crashing through Gunwook. For a moment, Gunwook forgot the crowd and the venue. It was just Taerae, standing under the spotlight, sharing something deeply personal and beautiful.

The audience cheered softly, but their energy felt subdued compared to the intimate weight of the moment. Taerae adjusted his guitar and began to play the first notes of his original song.

Look at my eyes

Look at my smile

너를 보면 지어지는 미소
When I see you, a smile naturally forms

Gunwook felt his breath hitch from the first few lines of the song. His heart skipped a beat, and for a second, he thought it might stop altogether. The simplicity of the lyrics hit him harder than he expected, each word wrapping around his chest like a warm embrace.

As Taerae continued singing, Gunwook concluded that it wasn’t just the lyrics— it was the way Taerae sang them, with a tender vulnerability. He couldn’t help but wonder if everyone else in the venue could see what he was feeling, see how deeply the words were affecting him.

This is all I want from you

꼭 지금처럼만 우리
Just like this, always, for us

너를보며 하루를 시작하고
Starting my day by looking at you

너와함께 잠드는것
Falling asleep together with you

그거면 충분해요
That alone is enough for me

As Taerae sang the final line, his voice soft and full of warmth—

우리 함께 있다면 더 바랄게 없죠
If we are together, I wouldn’t wish for anything more

he turned his gaze to Gunwook, locking eyes with him. The stage lights danced across Taerae's features, illuminating the genuine, radiant smile that graced his lips. It wasn’t just a smile; it was the kind of smile that seemed to hold every ounce of love, gratitude, and hope Taerae felt in that moment.

Gunwook’s breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as an overwhelming warmth spread through him. That smile— so pure, so utterly Taerae— made his heart ache in the best way possible. It felt like time had slowed, the noise of the crowd fading into the background.

In that moment, it was just the two of them.

His mind involuntarily drifted back to the first time he heard Taerae sing at the guesthouse, his soft voice echoing through the night. He remembered how his heart had fluttered then, the inexplicable pull that made him fall for Taerae’s voice and Taerae himself. Now, seeing him on stage, baring his heart to the crowd yet still directing it at him, Gunwook felt like he was falling all over again— only this time, it was deeper.

His lips quivered into a smile, his chest filling with a mix of pride and tenderness. He clenched his fists slightly to steady himself, afraid his emotions might spill over.

"He’s so pretty," Gunwook thought, his eyes glistening as they stayed fixed on Taerae. "How could anyone not fall for him?"

When Taerae sang that last line, with a smile so full of love, Gunwook’s heart swelled. He realized he didn’t just admire or care for Taerae— he was hopelessly, deeply, and irrevocably in love with him.

As Taerae ended the song, he let the final notes linger in the air, feeling the emotions simmer within the crowd. For a brief moment, there was a profound silence— an unspoken understanding among everyone present. Then, soft sobs punctuated the quiet, scattered throughout the audience, as the sheer weight of Taerae’s heartfelt performance resonated with them.

The applause began as a ripple, growing steadily louder until it erupted into a roar. The audience clapped and cheered, their faces a mix of admiration and lingering tears. Amidst the crowd, Matthew was sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to Jiwoong in a dramatic embrace while Jiwoong awkwardly patted his back, trying to soothe him. “You’re so dramatic, Matthew,” Jiwoong muttered, though his own eyes shone with emotion.

Taerae’s heart felt light and fulfilled. He scanned the crowd and saw Gunwook’s eyes, glassy and brimming with unshed tears. A gentle, relieved smile spread across Taerae’s face as he bowed deeply to the audience, grateful for their support and the connection he managed to create. With a final wave, he walked off the stage, adrenaline still buzzing through him.

Meanwhile, Gunwook’s heart raced. He needed to find Taerae, to say what he had been holding back for too long. The emotions bubbling inside him demanded release. He slipped through the crowd with a mix of urgency and determination, maneuvering past people. The fear that had kept him silent for so long— the worry of changing what they had— was now overridden by the certainty that he couldn’t let this moment pass.

Backstage, Taerae stood alone for a brief moment, catching his breath and taking in what had just happened. His fingers still tingled from playing the guitar, and his heart was still racing, but he felt a sense of peace wash over him. Before he could fully collect himself, hurried footsteps echoed behind him, and Taerae turned just as Gunwook appeared, eyes wide and chest rising and falling with each heavy breath.

“Gunwook?” Taerae said, surprised but smiling.

Gunwook stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight of Taerae— flushed, slightly sweaty, but glowing with joy. There were so many things he wanted to say, but only one came out first. “Hyung, I need to tell you something,” Gunwook said, voice low but resolute, eyes never leaving Taerae’s.

Gunwook opened his mouth to speak, but Taerae beat him to it, blurting out, “I love you, Gunwook.”

The words spilled out faster than Taerae intended, and he froze, the weight of what he’d just confessed pressing down on him. His cheeks turned bright red, but he couldn’t stop now. “I’m sorry—” he stammered, his voice trembling slightly. “I just.. I needed to say it because this thing between us— whatever it is— it’s confusing me. I feel like our feelings are mutual, but there’s this constant fear in the back of my mind that keeps telling me, ‘What if I’m wrong? What if I’m just reading too much into it?’”

Gunwook stayed quiet, his expression soft as he listened intently.

Taerae looked down, his hands fidgeting at his sides. “After what happened with Minjae, I guess I’ve been scared to trust someone again. I keep thinking, ‘What if I misread the signs? What if I open up and it all falls apart again?’ And with you, it’s even harder because.. you mean so much to me. The thought of losing you terrifies me, and I don't want to lose myself again.”

His voice wavered, and he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to look at Gunwook. “But at the same time, I don’t want to keep holding back. I don’t want to keep second-guessing myself or wondering what could’ve been. So I’m saying it now, even if it’s scary— because I love you, Gunwook. I’ve been falling for you for a while now.”

Gunwook’s heart swelled at Taerae’s confession, the raw honesty in his words making his chest ache. Without hesitation, he stepped forward, cupped Taerae’s face in his hands, and kissed him, silencing the rest of his rambling.

When they finally pulled apart, Gunwook rested his forehead against Taerae’s, his voice steady and filled with warmth. “I love you too, hyung,” he said, smiling. “I’ve been wanting to tell you for so long, but I didn’t want to ruin what we already had. I was scared too.”

Taerae blinked, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and disbelief. “Actually?”

Gunwook chuckled softly, brushing his thumb against Taerae’s cheek. “Mhm. I wouldn’t be here, supporting you every step of the way, if I didn’t.”

Taerae chuckled, a light, airy sound. “I guess we’re both a little scared, huh?”

“Maybe,” Gunwook said, grinning. “But hey, we figured it out.”

Taerae smiled softly at Gunwook before pulling him into another kiss, this time a bit intense, yet still gentle in a way that made Gunwook's heart race. He placed a hand on Gunwook's abdomen, pushing him back against the wall, but not in an aggressive way— just enough to close the distance between them, their bodies pressed against each other.

Gunwook was momentarily taken aback by the sudden movement, but he quickly melted into the kiss, his hands hovering uncertainly at Taerae's sides as he tried his best to keep up with the older male. His breath hitched when he felt their bodies so close, the heat between them almost overwhelming, but the tenderness in Taerae's touch kept him grounded.

They stayed locked in that kiss for a while, completely unaware of the world around them.

Meanwhile, at the door, Matthew and Jiwoong stood frozen, their eyes wide as they watched the couple. Matthew slowly raised a hand, stopping Jiwoong from taking another step forward. "Oop that's– um.. maybe we should just let the lovebirds be for tonight?" he said, his voice almost whispering, as if speaking any louder might interrupt the moment. "You know, celebrate tomorrow?"

Jiwoong blinked at him in confusion. "Wait, what?" He turned to Matthew and then back at the couple, his eyebrows furrowing. "What do you mean?"

Matthew threw his hands up dramatically, grinning. "Look at them! We're clearly not needed here. Let them have their moment." He paused, as if contemplating something important. "Besides, it's getting late. We'll just leave them to... be."

Jiwoong burst out laughing, covering his mouth to stifle the sound. "You think they're going to do it?" he muttered, shaking his head. "Alright, alright. Let's go before they hear us."

As they tiptoed away, Matthew shot one last glance at Taerae and Gunwook, grinning before they slipped out of the venue, both of them chuckling quietly.

Taerae finally pulled back, his forehead resting against Gunwook's, their breathing heavy and synchronized. He smiled softly and asked, "Should we go home?"

Gunwook, still flushed and overwhelmed by everything, nodded almost immediately, his cheeks burning. "Yeah.. let's go."

With a soft chuckle, Taerae pulled out his phone and quickly ordered a cab, his other hand intertwined with Gunwook's as they walked toward the exit. As they stepped out into the cool night air, Taerae couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of contentment. He glanced at Gunwook, who was still shyly looking away, a small smile tugging at his lips, and felt his heart swell.

Chapter Text

The tension had been building from the moment they left the venue— simmering in the cab, intensifying in the elevator, and now reaching a peak as they finally stepped into Taerae's apartment.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Taerae turned to face Gunwook and pushed him gently against the door, leaning in to kiss him again, one hand cupping his cheek while his other hand locked the door.

As they kissed, Gunwook's hands found their way to Taerae's waist, anchoring them together. The kiss deepened with every passing minute, growing more urgent and needy.

Finally, they broke apart, both of them breathless and flushed. Taerae rested his forehead against Gunwook's, his eyes gazing into his, with a smoldering intensity. "Are you okay with this, Gunwook?" he asked softly.

Gunwook nodded, a light blush coloring his cheeks even as desire darkened his eyes. "I want you, hyung," he whispered. "I want this, really."

A bit flustered at Gunwook's endearing response, Taerae nodded and smiled at Gunwook, suggesting they move to his room. "Let's move somewhere more comfortable." he said, his voice soft and inviting.

Once they were in Taerae's room, the pair resumed their kissing as they stood beside the bed. Taerae was finally letting his hands wander, slipping one under Gunwook's green sweater to caress his toned abs and brush a thumb over his nipple. Gunwook shuddered, his breath hitching at the sensation in between the kisses.

Wanting more, Gunwook took off his sweater, baring his torso before turning his attention to Taerae's belt, their breathing growing ragged as they worked together to discard the older male's various layers from the event— from his belt, to his vest, tie, and lastly his shirt.

Taerae gently guided Gunwook onto the bed, his back resting against the headboard. Straddling the younger male, Taerae began kissing his way down Gunwook's neck to his collarbone, sucking on the sensitive skin and leaving faint red marks in his wake as the younger just kept his inexperienced hands on Taerae's hips. As they ground against each other through the fabric of their pants, their cocks rubbed together deliciously, soft gasps escaping both their lips.

“Hyung..” Gunwook spoke up softly, his voice trembling slightly as he felt Taerae's lips ghosting over his skin, leaving gentle kisses and faint marks.

Taerae paused, lifting his head to meet Gunwook's gaze. His eyebrows raised slightly, a curious smile tugging at his lips. "Yes, Gunwook?"

"Can I be honest with you?" Gunwook asked, his eyes searching Taerae's for reassurance. There was hesitation in his voice, but also a quiet determination. 

Taerae tilted his head slightly, his hand sliding up to rest gently on Gunwook's shoulder. His thumb traced slow, soothing circles against the younger male's skin, silently encouraging him. "Of course. What's on your mind?" Gunwook hesitated for a moment, biting his lip before taking a deep breath. "I've never really... done this before."

The words hung in the air for a moment as Taerae blinked, completely caught off guard. He sat there, trying to process what Gunwook had just confessed. Wait— Gunwook's a virgin? The realization struck him like a bolt of lightning, leaving him momentarily stunned.

"Oh." The response slipped out of Taerae's mouth, his voice blank with surprise. He quickly shook his head, snapping himself out of his thoughts. His concern surfaced as he gently asked, "Do you want to stop then? It's totally okay if you're not ready."

Gunwook's eyes widened as he shook his head quickly, his hands moving up to rest on Taerae's waist.

"No, no— that's not it," he rushed to explain, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. "I want to— I just.. don't really know what to do? But I want to make hyung feel good."

And just like that, Taerae's mind went into complete crisis mode.

Damn it, why does he have to be this cute? Half of him wanted to freeze time, wrap Gunwook in a blanket, and protect his innocence forever. The other half, however, couldn't help but feel an overwhelming urge
to teach him— gently, of course— and show him how to do just that.

He took a deep breath, fighting to keep his thoughts in check. His lips curved into a reassuring smile as he leaned closer, brushing a strand of hair out of Gunwook's face.

"It's okay," he said softly, his voice steady and warm. "We'll take it slow, and I'll teach you. Don't worry too much, hm?”

Gunwook nodded, a smile dancing on his lips, before drawing Taerae into another gentle kiss. Their hands fumbled eagerly, working to unbutton their pants with a mix of excitement and nervousness. Moments later, they lay bare on the bed, their clothes strewn across the small room into random spots.

They couldn't tear their eyes away from each other. Gunwook thought Taerae was the prettiest as he gazed admiringly– from his flawless skin and slender waist, to his pink nipples. Taerae, in turn, was similarly entranced– taking in the natural blush on Gunwook's cheeks, his toned chest and abs, and oh– how gifted he is down there. And he has never used it?

Taerae reached over to his nightstand drawer, grabbing a bottle of lubricant. Squeezing some onto their dicks, Gunwook shuddered at the cold sensation. Taerae chuckled softly, then proceeded to start coating them with the lubricant, his gentle touch inducing quiet gasps from both of them. He occasionally glanced up at Gunwook, who was visibly struggling to contain himself, the room filled with their soft sounds of pleasure.

“Gunwook,” he called out softly as his hand kept moving, the sound of their dicks squelching against each other in his hand starting to fill the room as well. “Is everything good? Do you need anything else?”

Gunwook looked up at Taerae, looking a bit lost in the pleasure with hooded eyes, his chest heaving up and down before nodding. Taerae noticed that the younger male wanted to say something, but was hesitant– the lump in his throat visibly bobbed as he gulped, as he mustered up the courage to say it.

“Hyung.. can I fuck you please?”

Taerae froze, his hand momentarily stopped as he blinked, taken aback by the polite request before he snapped out of his thoughts and resumed his movement. With a small smile plastered on his face, he nodded. He wasn't expecting Gunwook to actually want to go all the way, considering they've never done anything like this with each other, and the younger of the two technically has zero experience— but it was still a pleasant surprise.

“Anything you want, Wookie. Can you prep me up then? Do you know how to do it?” Taerae asked, his voice gentle and Gunwook shook his head.

Taerae chuckled softly and took Gunwook's hand into his, his other hand grabbing the lubricant and squeezing a generous amount onto the younger's hand before spreading the substance along his long fingers.

“Just finger me back there, one finger at a time. I'll let you know when you can add more, okay?” he said as he shifted to sit closer to Gunwook, resting his hands on his shoulders.

Gunwook ghosted a finger over Taerae's entrance, hesitant to do it at first, but with a reassuring nod from Taerae, he gently inserted it into the warm heat, reaching deep into the older's insides, his flesh tightly  wrapping around the digit. Taerae's body slightly jolted. He didn't think the younger could reach that deep, already threatening to hit his prostate.

“Mmh– more,” Taerae's voice slightly trembled, and Gunwook wasted no time to insert another digit, scoring a sharp gasp that escaped from the older's lips, pleasant to his ears. Just knowing that he was making Taerae feel good was enough to make his heart content.

Without waiting for instructions, Gunwook slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of Taerae's heat, occasionally spreading his fingers to spread his insides out. It took Taerae everything to keep his composure, his face planted in the crook of Gunwook's neck as his hands gently gripping on the younger's broad shoulders, a string of soft whimpers escaping his lips.

Gunwook felt good, and he wanted to do more for Taerae. As he fingered the older, he noticed that he reacted a little differently at certain times, certain.. angles? He gulped as he concentrated, trying his best to catch that moment again and when a sharp whimper escaped Taerae's lips again, he kept the angle of his hand and his fingers before repeating the action.

Taerae arched his back, his moans filling the small room as Gunwook repeatedly thrust his fingers and hit his prostate, his dick twitching between them and threatening to spill its seeds already as he tapped on the younger's shoulder, willing him to stop. “Fuck– stop, stop!”

Gunwook immediately stopped and pulled back to look at Taerae, concern etched on his face, as if he just did something wrong. “H-hyung, are you okay? Did that hurt?” he asked, his hand cupping the older's face gently.

Taerae's chest heaved up and down, breathing heavily before shaking his head. “No, no– it was great. I just.. I don't want to cum yet.” he explained, his cheeks flushed as Gunwook let out a sigh of relief, glad that he wasn't hurt.

“I think I'm ready,” Taerae continued, his gaze lingering on Gunwook's face, the younger's natural blush giving him butterflies. Gunwook blinked. Finally, it was happening. 

With an eager nod, Gunwook helped Taerae as he shifted to position himself on the younger's dick, already hard and swelling, as if it had been waiting for ages to be inside Taerae. As Gunwook's back leaned against the headboard, he took the moment to capture the sight in front of him. So pretty.

Gunwook's hand rested on Taerae's waist as the older slowly sunk down his throbbing length, feeling his whole body shudder as he was enveloped by the tight, wet warmth, inch by inch, until he was fully inside Taerae, his hips bucking slightly.

As Gunwook filled him up, Taerae's hands gripped on to the younger's shoulders as they stayed in that position for a bit, slowly adjusting to his size until he got used to it.

Taerae sighed softly as his muscles relaxed around Gunwook's length, finally ready to allow the other to move. But when he lifted his head up to look at Gunwook, he couldn't hold back his giggle– there the younger was, eyes shut as he bit hard on his lips, his breath shaky with his hand firmly holding on to Taerae's waist.

“All good, Wookie?” Taerae asked as he leaned towards Gunwook, cupping his cheek gently.

Gunwook opened his eyes and groaned as he threw his head back before looking down at his whole length being devoured by Taerae's heat. “Yeah– just.. I think I need some time,” he shyly replied, his cheeks now flushing a more obvious pink.

“What, are you close already?” Taerae teased and chuckled softly, Gunwook reluctantly nodding with an endearing, embarrassed smile plastered on his face. Adorable, he thought.

“Take your time. There's no rush hm?” Taerae reassured him as he leaned to kiss Gunwook, tilting his head slightly to deepen it, slowly, taking their sweet time as they shared the moment together.

The kiss lasted for a while, until Gunwook started bucking his hips up slowly. With that, Taerae slightly lifted himself up, his knees supporting his weight to give way to the younger to start thrusting into him, which he eagerly did. The sound of skins slapping and strings of moans in between sloppy kisses started to fill the small room as Gunwook fucked into Taerae, slowly picking up his pace.

“Ah– hyung..” Gunwook pulled away and threw his head back, his eyes shut as his breathing started to get irregular. His dark hair stuck to his forehead, damp, and Taerae could see sweat trickling down his body– his neck, his chest, down to his abs– it made Gunwook's skin glisten in the warm light of the room, and it turned Taerae on so much, he thought he was going insane.

Taerae moved his hips to match Gunwook's rhythm, allowing the younger to thrust deep inside him, hitting his sweet spot repeatedly  as he softly rubbed his thumb over the other's cheek, sweet words spilling from his mouth. “You're doing great, Wookie– making hyung feel so good right now.. you like that right?” he praised, his voice sweet and soft, in between the moans that he couldn't contain.

Gunwook looked back down at Taerae with hooded eyes and pulled him into a sloppy kiss before suddenly thrusting into the older even faster, repeatedly hitting his prostate with each thrust. Taerae's body jolted every single time Gunwook hit his sweet spot, the stimulation going straight to his dick as it throbbed against the younger's abs, feeling a knot welling up inside him. He couldn't even kiss Gunwook anymore– the pleasure was overwhelming, and it was consuming him.

“G-Gunwook.. I'm–” he whimpered as he threw his head back, his nails clawing on the younger's chest– trembling as he spilled his seeds, untouched, on Gunwook's body— streaks of thick, white fluid shooting out of his dick and painting the younger's flushed skin.

“Ah– hyung–” Gunwook's breath hitched the moment Taerae's warmth tightened around his length– so warm, so good. Within seconds, he groaned as he filled the older up to the brim with his cum– he came so much, that the fluid even spilled out of Taerae's entrance, and dripped down his length.

They lay there in silence for a bit, breathing heavily as their chests heaved up and down simultaneously, Taerae's face snuggled into the crook of Gunwook's neck, arms wrapped around the younger in a warm embrace. Meanwhile, Gunwook had his arms wrapped around the older's waist, holding him close to him.

The room was hot, their bodies were sticky with sweat and semen, and usually Taerae couldn't stand these conditions– but he was just there, happy to be with Gunwook.

—

After washing up and settling under the warm covers, the room dimly lit by the soft glow of a bedside lamp, Taerae and Gunwook lay together. Gunwook wrapped his arms securely around Taerae from behind, his warmth soothing the older male as they basked in the comfortable silence.

“Hyung,” Gunwook broke the quiet, his voice soft but clear.

“Mhm?” Taerae hummed in response, snuggling deeper into Gunwook's embrace.

“I love you so much.”

Taerae chuckled lightly at the sudden confession, finding Gunwook's earnestness endearing. “I love you too,” he replied, turning to face the younger male.

Gunwook looked breathtaking. His hair was slightly damp from the shower, his natural blush dusting his cheeks, and his sweet smile radiating nothing but pure adoration. Taerae reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from Gunwook’s forehead, marveling at how lucky he felt to have him.

“Did you like the song?” Taerae asked, breaking the gaze with a teasing grin.

“I loved it,” Gunwook replied earnestly. “I almost cried.”

Taerae burst into laughter, his dimples on full display. “I saw you in the crowd. You looked like you were trying so hard to hold it in,” he teased, poking Gunwook's cheek.

Gunwook pouted in mock protest, “Ah.. don’t tease me– it was a beautiful song. What was I supposed to do?”

Taerae smiled fondly before changing the subject. “Ms. Park will be able to leave the hospital tomorrow right?”

Gunwook nodded. “Yeah, she’ll be discharged in the morning.”

“Ah, so you’re going back to the guesthouse tomorrow?” Taerae asked, his tone softening.

Gunwook nodded again, and the weight of the situation began to sink in for Taerae. They had spent nearly a week together, and the thought of Gunwook leaving tugged at his heart. Sure, the guesthouse wasn’t far— just over an hour by car— but he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d miss Gunwook terribly.

Sensing Taerae’s mood shift, Gunwook started speaking animatedly. “Once I graduate, I’ll find a job in Seoul and live with you.”

Taerae couldn’t help but laugh at his eagerness. “Oi, you should take care of Ms. Park first and focus on your studies instead of planning a big move. One thing at a time, Gunwook.”

“Okay, okay– but I’m serious!” Gunwook insisted with a sheepish grin, making Taerae roll his eyes playfully.

“We’ll see,” Taerae said, gently poking Gunwook’s forehead.

As the conversation faded into a comfortable silence, Taerae turned back around and let Gunwook pull him close again. A deep sense of contentment washed over him. He didn’t know what the future held, but in that moment, with Gunwook’s steady breaths against his back and their fingers loosely intertwined under the blanket, he knew he was exactly where he was meant to be.

“Goodnight, Gunwook,” he whispered, his voice barely audible.

“Goodnight, hyung,” Gunwook replied, tightening his hold just a bit more as they drifted off to sleep, hearts full and at peace.

—

One month later

Gunwook sat in the common area of the guesthouse, his apron still tied around his waist as he took a well-earned break after cooking lunch for the guests. From the dining area, the lively voices of Junhyeon and Gyuvin filled the air as they served dishes and chatted with the guests, their usual antics causing bursts of laughter.

He glanced at his phone again. Nothing. No missed calls, no texts— Taerae hadn’t even read his last message.

Since returning to the guesthouse, life had been busy. The holiday season brought a whirlwind of preparations, promotions, and a steady flow of guests. Meanwhile, Taerae's career had skyrocketed after his viral performance at the White Christmas event. Social media had been ablaze with clips of him singing, and he was now fully booked, working on an album, and chasing his dreams.

Despite their packed schedules, they made it a point to talk every day, whether through short texts, quick calls, or, when time allowed, long video chats. But today was different. Taerae was unusually silent, and Gunwook couldn’t help the pang of worry settling in his chest. He tried convincing himself that Taerae was just caught up with work, but the thought did little to ease his nerves.

As he lifted his head from his phone to look outside, he noticed a figure standing near the entrance, staring straight at him. Their outfit was.. peculiar. A cap pulled low, shades, a mask, and— was that a wig? The curly hair looked so obviously fake it almost made Gunwook laugh.

The figure stepped closer and held out a guesthouse coupon. Gunwook blinked. It was one of the coupons they gave returning guests for discounts on their next visit. This person had been here before.

Clearing his throat, Gunwook put his phone down and asked, “What would you like? We have snacks, chocolate, coffee—”

The person interrupted, their voice muffled slightly by the mask. “One Park Gunwook, please.”

Gunwook froze. That voice.

His eyes widened as realization struck. “Taerae hyung?”

Without another word, he shot up from his seat, closing the distance between them in record time. His arms wrapped around Taerae tightly as he lifted him off the ground, spinning him around like he weighed nothing. Taerae let out a surprised laugh, and as Gunwook continued to spin, Taerae’s cap, shades, and wig fell to the ground in a heap.

When Gunwook finally set him down, he burst into laughter at the sight of the discarded disguise. “What were you even trying to do with these?” he teased, reaching up to pull Taerae’s mask down.

Before Taerae could answer, Gunwook cupped his face and kissed him, pouring all the longing and love he had felt over the past month into that one moment. When they finally pulled away, their eyes locked, and wide, joyful smiles spread across their faces.

“I missed you so much,” Gunwook whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

“Me too,” Taerae replied, his gaze soft and full of warmth.

From inside the guesthouse, Ms. Park stood by the window, her arms crossed and a knowing smile on her face as she watched the scene unfold. “Ah, young love,” she murmured to herself.

Junhyeon and Gyuvin, however, had a very different reaction. They peeked out from the dining area, grimacing at the sight.

“Ugh, those lovebirds,” Junhyeon muttered, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“Disgusting,” Gyuvin added, shuddering for emphasis before they both turned back to their tasks, muttering complaints under their breath about "too much PDA."

Outside, Taerae and Gunwook didn’t notice any of it. Lost in their own little world, they stood there, holding each other tightly, as if nothing else mattered. Being there together, it was more than enough.