Archive of Our Own ^beta

Then.

It wasn’t his fault. Not really.
But Choi Beomgyu was late again.

The afternoon downpour made traffic lights bleed into the puddles and his guitar case slide down his shoulders again and again. He kept yanking it back into place as he pushed through the last block with his lungs burning with each breath and rain working its way into his hoodie until the weight of it clung to his arms and back, but he made it through. 

The forecast had warned him about the weather, and Taehyun had told him to bring an umbrella. But listening to him always made Beomgyu feel twelve years old again, stuck in the kitchen while his older brother bossed him around. So, he’d walked out without it.

Rain itself never bothered him. He liked the calm atmosphere, the sound of the rain and that peculiar smell you get on days like these. It might have stayed like that, almost pleasant in its muted rhythm, if the bus hadn’t shuddered to a stop and died six blocks from the arts building. So, when he finally shoved open the studio door, the rain was still clinging to his lashes, his hoodie dripped onto the tile, and the smell of wet pavement slipped in behind him.

He had expected Hansol (the upperclassman who Beomgyu guessed was something between a mentor and a tutor) to be waiting for him, but the room was quiet and the figure by the window was not Hansol at all.

Someone else looked up at him instead.

Choi Soobin.

A composition major from his year he’d once mistaken for a senior and whose most recent project had allegedly made Professor Jung cry in the faculty lounge last Tuesday. Beomgyu had only seen him from afar, usually crossing the quad with a mess of sheet music in one hand and an iced tea in the other, or sitting in the first row of a lecture hall with Choi Yeonjun by his side.

He froze in the doorway. “Oh. Uh... hi?”

Soobin’s fingers hovered over his laptop keys. “You’re late.”

“You’re... not Hansol.”

“He had an emergency. Asked me to cover.” He glanced at the clock on the wall next to a crookedly hung poster for a music recital that had been cancelled months ago but never got taken down. “You’re seventeen minutes late.”

Heat crept up Beomgyu’s neck as he glanced at the puddle already forming beneath him from his soaked hoodie dripping onto the tile. He was a little concerned as his uncle had once explained how wood warped when it got wet. He’d honestly tuned him out, but right now he wished he hadn’t.

“I, uh... bus broke down. Then my phone died. I ran about a hundred blocks. And...” He gestured at himself. “Yeah.”

Soobin tilted his head slightly, then returned to his laptop without a word.

The silence stretched until Soobin asked, still looking at the screen, “You’re just going to stand there?”

“...Maybe?”

“Sit down, Beomgyu.”

Water ran from his sleeves in little streams and the chair gave a loud, awkward squeak, but he obeyed immediately. Sinking into the nearest chair like a soaked puppy. 

The quiet that followed wasn’t as empty as he thought at first. He could hear the clack of Soobin’s keyboard, the slow drip of rainwater falling from Beomgyu’s sleeves, and the steady tick of a metronome.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

He risked a glance at Soobin.

He sat deep in the armchair with his back pressed into the cushion, sleeves pushed to his forearms. One wrist rested on the edge of the desk while his fingers moved over the keyboard in small, precise taps, the other hand was turning his headphone cord in a slow loop. The light from outside reached across the desk and slipped over his face, tracing the line of his jaw before catching on the curve of his mouth. His eyes stayed on the screen and the glow sharpened his expression, making his lashes look impossibly long.

It hit Beomgyu then that Choi Soobin was ruinously gorgeous. So much his fingertips itched with the absurd urge to map his face.

“You know my name,” he blurted instead, shifting in his seat and making the chair squeak again.

“Han told me.”

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

“Did he also tell you my blood type?”

This time, Soobin paused. “...No.”

“I have AB+ blood type. I think it’s the rarest one. Or AB-. I forget which is rarer. Anyway, it means I’m a universal receiver. Good to know in case I ever get mauled by a bear.”

Soobin turned his head slowly. “...Excuse me?”

“I can’t donate to most people, though. Unless they’re also AB+. Sorry in advance if you ever need an emergency transfusion. Unless you are AB+, too. Then we’re fine.”

Soobin blinked slowly.

“Life’s unpredictable,” Beomgyu said, widening his eyes for emphasis before wincing. “AB is also the most common blood type among psychopaths, though...”

The pause stretched out long enough for Beomgyu to start wondering if Kai was right about him talking too much, but then a soft snort escaped Soobin before breaking into a loud laugh. It pulled his head back, shoulders loose, the sound rolling up from somewhere deep in his chest.

It was his smile that stopped Beomgyu’s world in an instant.

It began in the right corner of Soobin’s mouth and moved slow before it took over, and then... dimples. Plural.

If that wasn’t enough, his eyes curved into soft half-moons, lashes fanning against his skin. His teeth, unfairly perfect, were framed by a pair of lips that looked softer than the mochi Beomgyu had shared with Taehyun that morning.

“Psychopaths?” Soobin repeated, voice still filled with laughter.

Beomgyu opened his mouth. Closed it. Tried again. “...Yes?”

“I’m sure it’s not something you need to worry about. You’re not that bad.”

Beomgyu blinked, still trying to catch up. In his opinion, nothing he’d said was funny, and yet, he had no idea what to do with himself. Not when he was still short-circuiting from the sight of Choi Soobin smiling at him like that, dimples deep and devastating. Not when his heart thudded against his ribs and the pulse drumming in his wrists was sharp enough to feel in his fingertips.

All he could make sense of was the rain dripping from his sleeves, the soft tick of the metronome, and the soft curve of Soobin’s lips.

If anyone ever asked when it began, he’d know. This room.

This smile.

Now.

The table was sticky, but they came back every Thursday anyway.

Kai said it was for the lighting, even though he hadn’t posted in days.

Taehyun never explained himself, just always showed up five minutes early and claimed the seat closest to the outlet.

Today someone had changed the playlist. The usual lo-fi was gone and there was a dramatic score that Beomgyu found deeply appropriate for his feelings at the moment.

“Your drink’s still at the counter, Gyu,” Kai said without looking up. His sketchpad lay open. He swore drawing helped him untangle melodies when his brain got stuck but the pages usually alternated between rough pencil drawings of Beomgyu’s hands or Taehyun’s profile. He hadn’t chosen to major in music, but he was still serious about composing pieces of his own.

Beomgyu slouched lower in his seat. “He called me Brian again. I’m not getting it.”

“Then don’t complain it’s melted,” Taehyun said, stabbing his boba with the straw.

No one offered to grab it for him, but when the shop got crowded and a family squeezed in next to their table, the cup appeared in front of him anyway.

Their friendship hadn’t begun all at once.

Beomgyu had met Kai first back in high school. A quiet kid with an obsessive love for k- bands and a habit of eating plain toast during lunch. Beomgyu, older and loud enough for both of them, had called him New Kid for three months purely to annoy him. Kai never corrected him, just blinked, chewed on his toast, and one day started lending him his headphones.

It stuck after that. The headphones, the toast, the friendship. By graduation, Beomgyu was still calling him New Kid, mostly out of nostalgia.

Taehyun came later. University dorms, second floor, the room with the broken radiator.

Beomgyu had walked in with two suitcases, a guitar case, and a tube of glitter lip balm he’d stolen from his mom only to find a boy already sprawled on the lower bunk with a face mask on, listening to a podcast about serial killers.

It worked.

A year later, they moved into an apartment above a laundromat. The place always smelled like lavender detergent and, on certain nights, fried onions from the burger joint next door, but it was their own heaven. Beomgyu liked the way Taehyun laughed at his dumb jokes and always knew where he left his charger. Taehyun liked having someone to talk to after midnight and that Beomgyu didn’t blink when he reorganized the fridge by color at 2 a.m.

Beomgyu introduced them during syllabus week. Kai was living off-campus with his sister Leah in an actual adult apartment that had matching dishes and plants alive on purpose, but he came over so often that Beomgyu half-considered charging him rent. All and all, though, he loved having him around. Kai had a way of making the space feel warm. He always brought food he barely touched and left jackets Beomgyu noticed he refused to take back.

Beomgyu also noticed Taehyun wearing said jackets pretty often.

He noticed a lot of things, actually.

The way Taehyun’s ears flushed pink whenever Kai over-complimented his cooking, how they always seemed to end up beside each other no matter where they went, how Taehyun’s gaze sometimes lingered a beat too long on the younger when he thought no one was looking.

But Taehyun never said anything out loud about it, because Kai wasn’t someone he could have. At least not in the way he truly wanted. According to his dating history and a painfully easy assumption, Kai was straight. A fact worn old, like it had never cost anyone anything.

One night, when the apartment smelled faintly of soy sauce, with takeout boxes stacked on the coffee table and a Studio Ghibli movie flickering across the TV, Taehyun sat cross-legged on the rug, picking at the last dumpling with his chopsticks.

He didn’t look up when Beomgyu’s voice broke the gentle hum of the movie. “If you tell him... do you think it would change anything?”

The glow of the screen painted Taehyun’s face in shifting colors. For a long moment, he said nothing.

Then, softly, “You don’t beg a mirror to see you differently, Gyu.” He set the chopsticks down with care. “It’s okay. That doesn’t make Kai cruel or anything.” It just made Taehyun quiet, because for all his gentle strength, he had never been reckless with his heart.

Beomgyu learned then that some things bloomed quietly, not into possibility but into understanding. That his love was loud, but not everyone else’s could be. Some hearts were still learning, slowly, how to hold sunlight.

So he never brought it up again.

Back in the boba shop, though, his drink was starting to separate, sweet syrup sinking to the bottom, so he stirred it lazily, tapioca pearls knocking like marbles against the plastic.

He sighed. Once. Twice. By the fifth sigh, Kai finally glanced up from his sketchpad. “What now?” 

“She touched his elbow, Kai.”

Taehyun, who had just returned with napkins and a second straw for himself, stopped mid- step. “Who?”

“The blonde from music theory. You know her... the one who looks like Sabrina Carpenter.” Beomgyu leaned forward, wide-eyed and pouting “She touched Soobin. On the elbow. And giggled.”

Kai finally paused, one brow lifting. “Isn’t she the one you said was left-handed?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, yes! She is left-handed. And she was tucking her hair behind her ear."

Taehyun’s mouth twitched, but he stayed quiet.

“I was standing right there!” Beomgyu went on, voice climbing. “Everything happened right in front of me and they didn’t even look my way. Like I’m a prop. Or like a fucking lamp.”

“You are a little shiny,” Kai murmured, pencil scratching.

Beomgyu whipped toward Taehyun, desperate. “I know you saw it!”

“Why are you making a big deal about it? You’re aware Soobin’s allowed to talk to other people, right?”

“That’s not the point! It was the intention. And he didn’t really stop her... do you think they’re a thing now?”

“I think you need a job,” Taehyun sighed.

“You guys are not taking this seriously! I even told him about the dream, you know.”

That earned a blink from Taehyun. “...What dream?”

Blushing, Beomgyu pressed his straw to his lips, then let it fall again. “The one from the other night. Where we run a coffee shop together. In a tiny town. Matching aprons. A cute dog. Plants in little ceramic pots. And then he said...” Beomgyu’s eyes went wide, voice dropping to a whisper, “...’Interesting.’”

“Oh, I know that dream!” Kai said brightly at the same time that Taehyun groaned and dragged a hand down his face.

“Why would you say that to him?” Taehyun muttered.

“Because it was romantic, Kang Taehyun,” Beomgyu answered as if it were obvious, “And he could’ve said ‘weird’ or like, literally anything else. But he didn’t. He said Interesting. That’s basically a confession on itself.”

Taehyun sighed and turned dramatically toward the counter, locking eyes with the barista, and raised his voice. “Hello, sir? Would you hire this one? Keep him busy? Please?”

Kai snorted, laughter spilling out before he could stop himself while Beomgyu gasped, lunging across the table to swat at Taehyun’s arm. “Shut up! You’re so annoying, oh my god.”

Taehyun leaned back effortlessly, sipping his drink with tranquility. He'd handled Beomgyu meltdowns a hundred times after all.

Slumping into his seat, Beomgyu groaned. “I’m making a big deal out of it because there’s history between us! There’s tension. Stop laughing, Kai. I’m being vulnerable.”

“You shared a Google Doc once,” Taehyun said flatly.

“Exactly.” His eyes narrowed. “And it was tense... romantically.”

Kai, still giggling, slid the abandoned cup toward him like a peace offering. “Just drink your boba, Romeo. Actually, perfect timing. You guys should come to my sister’s Kiki next Friday at our place.”

Beomgyu blinked. “Her what?”

“You’re gay and don’t know what a Kiki is?” Kai teased. “It’s like a party, but with way more glitter? Anyway, since you’re clearly losing it again, I think it’ll be perfect for you.”

“Oh shit, yeah, sounds fun,” Taehyun said, eyes lighting up.

“I’m not losing it...” Beomgyu muttered, “And I don’t know if I trust anything called a Kiki anyway.”

“Aww, c’mon, Gyu. You’ll love it. There’s gonna be a theme!”

Half-listening as the other two started debating whether the theme would be Britney Spears Only or Renaissance Extravaganza, Beomgyu let his finger trace slow circles through the condensation of his cup, grumbling just loud enough to keep up the act of being annoyed.

But he wasn’t lying, he wasn’t really losing it.

He knew he could sometimes be a little bit over the top (he can hear his mom saying that to him word for word), but he dint need anyone else validating his... situation. He could very well do that himself. Whatever this was with Soobin, it was real. Quiet for now sure, but thrumming under his ribs all the same.

He bit back a smile and stabbed a tapioca pearl.

He believed love, like all great romances, required patience. Beomgyu had time; he wasn’t in a rush.

Just ready.

The entire place simmered because of a a disco ball dangling illegally from the fire sprinkler, spinning lazily, flashing silver, gold and pink and glow-in-the-dark stars like the ones from Beomgyu's childhood room's roof were stuck haphazardly to the floor. There were led lights everywhere and even the kitchen sink had given up its day job and was now a cooler packed with ice and bottles of soju. Someone had definitely over-sprayed body mist at the door and Beomgyu was sure he felt a faint stickiness in the air.

He loved it.

He had dutifully prepared for the nigh: he wore a cropped shirt that winked silver at the hem and flashed glimpses of warm skin with every shift of his body, boots scuffed from too many festivals, and a velvet choker that hugged his throat with a tiny star catching the light whenever he tilted his head. Glitter shimmered beneath his eyes like tears.

He looked good. Too good, even. Which is why, as requested by the theme (Space-cowbows, yes sir.), perched on his head was the black star‐choked cowboy hat he’d begged off Boo Seungkwan after spotting it on his Instagram.

He’d sworn he’d give it back without spilling booze on it.

“Tell me I look sexy and like stardust,” Beomgyu said, catching his reflection in the microwave door.

“You look like an extra in Euphoria,” Taehyun followed behind him in with an armful of snacks.

“Perfect.”

Taehyun, for his part, wore a fitted black tee tucked into grey jeans with a silver belt and boots polished to a mirror shine. His cowboy hat was low over his eyes and a single star sticker clung to his cheekbone. Space cowboy-coded, but make it minimalist.

Beomgyu took him in for a quick beat. He’d always known Taehyun was hot, but the cowboy outfit drove the point home. The sight almost made him want to elbow Kai on instinct: Look at your man. Pheew.

Taehyun would actually murder him though, so he wouldn’t do that. Instead, he let himself enjoy the sight of their other best friend sweeping into view.

Kai found them by the counter, already stacked with red solo cups and half-eaten pizza. He wore dark jeans with a buckled belt, those scuffed brown boots he bought excitedly at a flea market last year but had only used once before, and a metallic T-shirt catching the light just like the glitter on his cheekbones he’d used as blush.

“My babies have arrived! You look great!”

Taehyun gave Kai a half a second scan before clearing his throat and glancing away. “You’re literally the youngest.” he reminded him.

“I’m overstimulated right now. Let me have this.” Kai declared, already pulling them into a sudden hug that knocked the air out of their lungs, making Taehyun let out a startled grunt and Beomgyu laugh so hard he nearly lost his footing.

There were arms everywhere, someone’s elbow knocking into a rib, someone’s cheek smushed against a shoulder, and for a second, all Beomgyu could think about was how Kai smelled faintly like citrus shampoo and whatever hand cream he’d stolen from his younger sister. It reminded him of sleepovers years and years ago when they used to dare each other to chug orange crush until someone threw up.

He heard Leah's laughter rang out from somewhere.

“She’s committed to the theme, huh?,” Beomgyu asked, breathless with amusement and stretching his neck trying to catch a glimpse of whatever was going on in the living room.

Taehyun nodded with wide eyes, “No joke, everything looks great.”

“She made a PowerPoint and everything,” Kai said. “Made me sign up for an aesthetic lane, too. I had to fight for Desert Bandit. She wanted me in Goth Cowboy.”

Beomgyu pulled back to look at him properly and did a once-over, “You are a desert bandit.”

“Thank you, that’s exactly what I told her.”Kai leaned against the counter. “Speaking of Leah... she told me... Yeonjun is coming... which means...”

“Choi Soobin is coming too,” Taehyun continued with a giggle.

Kai backpedaled instantly. “I mean, maybe. I’m not really sure. You know what? He’s probably not coming.” His voice pitched higher, glancing at Beomgyu’s wide eyes.

It was a lie. Everyone knew Yeonjun and Soobin showed up everywhere together. They were a matched set. A unit. Kinda like Beomgyu, Taehyun and Kai. Except more coordinated. At one point, Beomgyu had genuinely thought they were dating, until one day he decided to find out from the direct source. Yeonjun snorted his matcha out of his nose and said, “Please never put that image in my head again.” Beomgyu had liked him more after that.

“He’ll be here,” Taehyun said, amused. “Yeah,” Kai echoed, wincing.

Beomgyu, to his credit, did not scream. But he did stop breathing for at least 3 seconds.

Kai pressed a drink into his hand. “Here.” Beomgyu took a sip, winced at the burn, licked sugar from his bottom lip, and set the cup down with resolve. “Okay. Whatever. This is fine. I look amazing. This is fine.” He stooped and thought about it, “This is actually perfect.”

Taehyun patted his shoulder. “You got it, cowboy.”

Soobin and Yeonjun arrived, together as predicted, forty-two minutes later.

By then, Beomgyu had already decided the night would be good, so he didn’t clock it right away. He was half dancing and laughing at something a friend of Leah’s had just said, cheeks warm from the crowd and the drink on his hand, when he noticed them walking in.

Soobin wore black; a button-down with the sleeves pushed to his forearms with a few buttons undone to reveal the clean slope of his throat and the faint gleam of skin at his collarbones. His dark jeans fit exactly how Beomgyu knew they would and the rings that glinted on his fingers along with the silver chain flashing at his neck complimented him perfectly. He completed the look, of course, with a black cowboy hat matching his. Both his cheeks and lips were flushed. Maybe from the cold. Maybe not.

He was the most beautiful boy Beomgyu had ever seen.

Very closely, Yeonjun trailed ahead of him; gorgeous and radiant as always. Full cowboy too, but looking freshly pulled from an editorial, which was exactly what he expected from him. Beomgyu had always figured that if music bored him one day, he could easily make it in the fashion industry. He already had the popularity for it; he was throwing his arms around people, greeting everyone twice, laughter pulling people into its orbit.

But Beomgyu’s gaze found its way back to Soobin. It always did. “If I die tonight,” Beomgyu whispered, “bury me under him.”

“We’ll cremate you. Scatter you on his bed.”

Kai cackled from the couch. “Kinky.”

And that’s when Soobin finally looked back. He didn’t seem particularly startled to find Beomgyu already watching him, but Beomgyu could tell it was just an accidental meeting of eyes that earn him an automatic, barely-there nod in greeting.

But something shifted in a second. Soobin’s gaze didn’t go back to the crowd right away, instead, it began to trace slowly. His eyes lingered from the shimmer beneath Beomgyu’s lashes to the curve of his jaw, tracing the line of his neck. Lower still, to the strip of skin between his cropped shirt and the low waist of his jeans, where the ring at his belly button caught the light and flickered back to him. Soobin’s jaw flexed, barely perceptible...

“Hey! Soobin!” someone called across the room.

His head turned and just like that, the moment blinked out as if it hadn’t happened at all.

Beomgyu tilted his head, slowly letting his lips curve as he reached for his cup, fingers curling too tight around the plastic

He sipped once. Let the taste linger.

Well, well, he thought, tongue flicking against the rim. Looked a little long, didn’t you?.

Kai was elbow-deep in conversation with two girls in rhinestone bikinis as Taehyun sat beside them, with his arms crossed and no signs of wanting to join the conversation. Beomgyu knew that look, so he slid his drink into Taehyun’s hand.

“Drink up,” Beomgyu mouthed before sticking his tongue out like a little kid. Taehyun laughed and took the cup, tapping with his finger the small star on Beomgyu’s wrist drawn in eyeliner. Beomgyu didn’t know who had put it there, but he liked how it looked so he hadn’t asked.

Some minutes later, though, he definitely regretted giving his drink away. He was stuck thinking of ways to escape Chris from Leah’s birdwatching club. It wasn’t that Beomgyu didn’t like him, Chris was fine, but he wouldn’t stop talking about about a yacht he’d been on last week. Beomgyu caught maybe every third word. He nodded when it seemed right and smiled on cue, but after a while he was just trying very hard not to look like he was looking for someone else.

Which, of course, meant he was. And Soobin wasn’t hard to find.

He leaned in the balcony doorframe with a beer in one hand, rings throwing brief glints whenever he moved. Beomgyu wondered if they’d look as good on him, or if it was something made to fit Soobin only like so many other things. Yeonjun stood right beside him, both of them talking to a couple of older guys Beomgyu vaguely remembered from orientation.

Every so often, someone passed by and said something to Soobin, gave a smile, a shoulder touch, and he’d just turn his head, smiling back easily.

He hadn’t looked at Beomgyu again. Not once since that first once-over.

Rude.

“...I mean, I do go on a lot of yachts, but this was really nice because—”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Beomgyu said, pointing at Chris’ drink. “Can I have that?”

Chris blinked at the cup, then back at him. “Uh... sure.”

Beomgyu finished what was left in one pull, the sweet-and-sour burn turning warm in his stomach and as if on cure, from somewhere in the living room a voice shouted, “WE’RE STARTING THE GAMES IN TEN!” and the room answered with cheers.

“Oh!” Beomgyu perked up, then remembered Chris and turned to look at him with a less than sincere pout, “Sorry, I need to grab a friend. But hanks for the drink!”

He turned sharply, making a beeline toward Taehyun and Kai, who were now both talking with the girls from earlier and a few others who’d joined.

“Guys! Did you hear? There will be games!” He slid himself between them until they both looked at him.

“Beomgyu! Welcome back. Interesting conversation over there?” Kai laughed, and Beomgyu swatted his arm, not being able to not smile back.

“Shut up. You watched me suffer and didn’t save me.”

“Some battles you have to fight yourself, Beomgyu,” Taehyun said, laughing along with Kai.

“Whatever, alleged best friends.” He tapped both their thighs. “Focus. The games are about to start”

“You make it sound like The Hunger Games when you say it like that,” Kai said, tossing Skittles into his mouth.

“Do you think he’ll play?” Beomgyu asked.

“Who?”

“You know who.”

Taehyun snorted. “Are you going to pout all night if he doesn’t?”

“I don’t pout.”

“You weaponize your pout, Beomgyu.” Taehyun said reaching for Kai’s candy.

“Huh...” Beomgyu straightened, genuinely considering it. “Hot of me.”

“Is it really?”

“Anyway, you know I love games,” Beomgyu said, and without waiting for a response, pulled them both up. Taehyun groaned but stood anyway as Kai laughed and nearly tripped; Beomgyu led them into the living room, his boots sticking slightly to the floor wit the bass vibrating up through his soles.

He wasn’t about to miss the fun.

Leah stood on the coffee table in her shinny white boots, with a drink in one hand and a mic in the other (Unplugged, obviously, but nobody cared. Her voice carried either way). “Time for the first game,” she said, swaying a little, eyes glittering under heavy liner. “It’s simple. Two people. Face to face. First one to react loses.” She let the silence stretch as she took a sip and let it land.

“First one to break,” she added, “takes two shots.” Whistles. Shouts. Someone yelled, “Define break!”

Leah rolled her eyes. “You know what I mean. Laughing, biting your lip, crossing your legs. If it’s obvious, it counts. Don’t be a baby.”

“Is touching allowed?”

“Obviously!”

A sequin boa went up and the room took it as the start. Beomgyu laughed with everyone else and felt his pulse pick up, but not from nerves. He liked games like this. He was good at them.

“Alright,” Leah grinned as she scanned the crowd. “Who’s brave enough to go first?”

Beomgyu stepped forward. “Me!”

It came out louder than he expected but cheers still broke out around him. Someone even whooped. Kai cackled, eyebrows high. “Why is he like this?”

“Love the energy,” Leah said, clapping once. “Beomgyu goes first. Now... who’s facing him?”

She was still searching when Beomgyu caught Taehyun’s eye and smirked lifting a finger toward him in a mock challenge. Come here, coward.

Taehyun just raised his brows, deadpan. For a second, Beomgyu thought he might actually volunteer.

Instead, Taehyun cupped his hands and shouted, “Soobin!” Belmgyu’s smile froze.

What.

The hell.

Taehyun grinned without a hint of remorse.

So yeah, Beomgyu loved attention, thrived under it, usually. He’d been ready to give the room a show and maybe even Soobin something to think about.

He just hadn’t expected to be doing it with him.

Leah’s eyes lit up. “Up for it, Soob?”

Soobin didn’t answer at once, he just he shifted his weight and glanced at Yeonjun (who answered with a shrug and his own knowing smirk), before finally landing on Beomgyu and staying there. The corners of his mouth barely moved, “Sure.”

“Let’s go, baby!” Yeonjun laughed beside him, clapping clearly delighted with whatever he thought was about to happen, and gave Soobin a shove toward the center.

The room broke open with noise.

And Soobin, once again, barely reacted. He caught his balance with ease and stopped a little just to set his drink down on the low table with the heel-shaped boot print across a paper plate Kai had named Abstract Expressionism earlier. He slipped a hand into his pocket before he started moving unhurried.

It drove Beomgyu crazy.

There was a certain tilt to his shoulders, a specific light dip of his head as he moved, that made the little devil on Beomgyu’s shoulder lean in and whisper that the game was on. The nerves he’d been holding onto flickering out in an instant.

Fine. Better, even. Let Soobin think he’s got it easy.

Leah’s eyes lit up when she saw them facing each other. “Beomgyu’s the instigator. Soobin’s the stone wall. Sixty seconds on the clock.” Her grin was all teeth as she held her phone up, the clock app glow reflecting on her eyes.

Shouts and giggles rose from around the room, making Beomgyu’s blood hum with excitement as voices tossed names back and forth, betting on how long it would take Soobin to break, if he did at all.

Beomgyu kept his eyes on Soobin, watching intently. The same maddeningly calm expression he’d worn for the last couple of hours when Beomgyu had tried catching his eyes from across the room was still there. He had Soobin’s attention now, but it wasn’t enough. At least, not yet, so he took his time and really looked. His eyes, his nose, the curve of his lips... he had to bite down a smile.

The game was working on Beomgyu, he was already having fun.

“Ready?”

Beomgyu tilts his head, “Oh, I’m ready.”

“Go!”

The first ten seconds were easy.

Beomgyu continued doing his favorite thing in the world: memorizing every detail of Soobin. From the way his lips sat perfectly still, not even a twitch at the corners, to the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath that black button-down.

Soobin looked back just as intently, but there was something in his expression he couldn't place.

Around them, voices continue to rose and fell and laughter rippled around, but Beomgyu barely heard it. The moment had narrowed to the space between him, Soobin, and the way the disco ball painted shifting colors across his skin.

Twenty seconds in, Beomgyu made his first move.

He let his gaze drop to Soobin's hands, hanging loose at his sides, and slowly, so, so slowly that anyone watching might think it was accidental, he brushed his fingertips against Soobin's knuckles.

The touch was barely there, almost feather-light. but Soobin's fingers twitched slightly.

Beomgyu's pulse jumped with triumph, but he kept his face carefully neutral. He couldn't win with just that, so he let his fingers drift higher, tracing the edge of one silver ring with the pad of his thumb. The metal was warm from Soobin's skin, and when Beomgyu pressed just slightly, he felt the faintest tremor run through Soobin's hand.

Still, Soobin's face remained perfectly composed. What was a little hand touching going to do? His breathing was still steady, his eyes locked on Beomgyu's without wavering.

But Beomgyu was watching for the details now. The way Soobin's throat moved when he swallowed, the slight tension in his shoulders, the way the fingers of his other hand curling almost imperceptibly into a fist. Anything, really.

Thirty seconds.

Beomgyu traced another ring, this one on Soobin's middle finger, letting his touch linger. Then, with careful precision, he slipped his fingers between Soobin's, not quite holding hands but their palms were touching.

This time, Soobin's breath caught. It was just for a second, but Beomgyu heard it. "Is that it?" someone called out. "Soobin's not even blinking!"

If only they knew, Beomgyu thought, fighting back a smile. If only they could feel the way Soobin's pulse was hammering against his wrist, or see how his pupils had dilated in the last thirty seconds.

But it wasn't enough. Not yet.

Thirty-five seconds.

Beomgyu stepped closer. A little more than a half-step, but it managed to make the space between them feel electric. He could smell Soobin's clean and warm cologne now along with the faint scent of whatever shampoo he used. If someone had told him he would be this close to Choi Soobin tonight, he wouldn’t have believed them.

No, never mind, he definitely would have.

He had hoped for this for so long now, which is what gave him the strength to place his palm against Soobin's chest. Right over his heart.

Soobin's heartbeat was fast. A little too fast for someone who looked so calm, in his opinion. "Forty seconds!" Leah called out, but her voice sounded far away.

Beomgyu's hand drifted lower, fingertips skimming over the fabric of Soobin's shirt, following the line of his ribs. When he reached the waistband of Soobin's jeans, he paused, letting his fingers trace along the edge where fabric met his jeans. Then, with a touch so light it might have been imagined, he brushed the tip of his pinky against the strip just above Soobin's belt.

Soobin's breathing hitched. Actually hitched, his chest stuttering on an inhale, and for just a moment his composure cracked. Beomgyu witnessed how his eyes fluttered closed before snapping open again, and there was something almost desperate in his gaze now.

But still, he didn't break.

Beomgyu was running out of time. Fifty seconds had to be close, and while he could feel Soobin losing control under his touch, it wasn't enough for the crowd to see. To them, Soobin still looked perfectly in control.

That's when inspiration struck.

Moving with purpose now, Beomgyu took Soobin's hand and guided it down to his own waist, right to the strip of skin between his cropped shirt and jeans.

Soobin's eyes followed the movement, dropping to where his own fingers now rested against Beomgyu's warm skin. The little silver star of his belly button piercing glinted back at him, and Beomgyu watched as something shifted in Soobin's expression. His lips parted slightly, and his thumb (completely without conscious thought, apparently) traced the edge of the piercing.

The touch sent electricity straight through Beomgyu's nervous system, but he forced himself to stay focused. This was it. This was his moment.

Soobin was staring at the piercing, his breathing definitely uneven now, but he was still holding on.

Fine, Beomgyu thought, stepping even closer until they were almost chest to chest. Let's see how you handle this.

He tilted his head up, bringing his face close to Soobin’s and Beomgyu knew that if either of them moved with intention, their lips would touch.

Beomgyu could feel every eye on them, could practically hear hearts stopping as everyone realized what was about to happen. But all of his attention was on Soobin, on the way his eyes had gone wide and dark, the way his lips were parted in anticipation.

Beomgyu leaned in. Closer. Closer.
Soobin's eyes fluttered, his whole body leaning forward to meet him- And Beomgyu pulled back.

The effect was immediate and very, very obvious. Soobin, who had been leaning in with his whole body, suddenly had nothing to lean into. His eyes flew open in confusion and his body pitched forward, completely off-balance. He actually stumbled, taking two clumsy steps toward Beomgyu before catching himself.

Everything around him exploded.

Cheers, screams, Beomgyu could hear Kai's and Taehyun’s squealing around him. Leah was shouting something about time being up and Soobin losing, but Beomgyu could barely hear her over the blood rushing in his ears.

He had won.

Soobin stood there looking stunned, his hair mussed from nearly falling forward, his cheeks flushed with what might have been embarrassment or arousal or both and stared at Beomgyu like he couldn't quite process what had just happened.

That’s when Beomgyu leaned in, close enough for only Soobin to hear, lips curling into a playful pout. "Did you really think our first kiss would be like thIS? In front of everyone? For a game?” His voice was teasing, almost condescending, like he was talking to a baby.

Soobin's eyes went impossibly wide, and the flush on his cheeks deepened. But there was something else there too, something that, to Beomgyu, looked almost like anticipation.

Beomgyu always thought that the music building had a different energy in the late afternoon. It became somehow quieter, softer, and the dust motes dancing in the golden light that shined through the windows made it feel dreamlike. Most students had already gone for the day, leaving behind only the dedicated or the desperate alumni of Professor Mina’s notoriously brutal Music Production & Recording Techniques class.

Beomgyu was somewhere between the two.

He'd been in practice room 3B for the better part of two hours, fingers moving over his guitar strings lazily. It might have look like he was avoiding going home because his assignment was finished (had been finished since last Tuesday), but something kept pulling him back.

The problem was that it didn’t sound right. Not yet. Every time he played the final progression, something caught and by now, the pads of his fingers burned and the calluses protested every slide across the strings, but it didn’t matter. He needed it to sound the way it felt in his chest.

He was halfway through a melody that had been stuck in his head since Friday night when he caught the shadow of footsteps in the hallway that paused right outside his door. He held his breath and stop his fingers, waiting for the person to continue past, but instead came a soft knock.

If it was that guy from earlier asking again when he’d be done, Beomgyu was actually going to scream, so he ignored it.

Another knock followed. Louder this time.

Beomgyu sighed but stayed quiet, setting his guitar carefully to the side. Still, the door opened slowly, and his heart did something embarrassing in his chest.

Choi Soobin stood in the doorway, with his backpack slung over one shoulder and tired eyes. He wore a simple white sweater and black rimmed glasses that somehow made him look softer than usual.

“Oh,” Soobin said, blinking in apparent surprise. “Sorry, I thought-” He hesitated, glancing at the room number before looking back at Beomgyu. “No one answered, so I figured no one was here.”

Beomgyu blinked, then huffed out a quiet laugh. “Right. I thought you were someone else and was trying to ignore you.” He lifted a hand in mock apology.

Soobin’s mouth curved just slightly, “I was actually looking for an empty practice room.”

"Well," Beomgyu said, fighting back a grin, "you found one with me in it instead."

Something flickered across Soobin's face, it could have been amusement, or maybe recognition, but his cheeks flushed the slightest pink either way. "I can find another room-“

"Don't you dare, Choi Soobin.” The words came out more forceful than Beomgyu intended, making Soobin's eyebrows lift. He softened his voice, leaning back in his chair with what he hoped looked like casual confidence. "I mean, there's plenty of space. And honestly, I could use the company."

Soobin hesitated in the doorway, and for a moment Beomgyu thought he might actually leave. Then his shoulders relaxed, and he stepped inside, letting the door close behind him with a soft click.

“I heard you playing," Soobin admitted, settling his backpack by the piano bench. “It sounded..." He trailed off.

"Sounded what?" Beomgyu prompted, genuinely curious.

"Nice," Soobin finished quietly. His face made it seem like the word was insufficient but the only one he could manage to say.

"Just nice?"

“I-" Soobin's flush spread down his neck, and he busied himself unpacking sheet music from his bag. "It drew me in, okay? Happy?"

Beomgyu was more than happy. He was delighted. "So you followed the siren song of my guitar all the way down the hall? And here I thought you said you were looking for an empty room.”

“Well, I did think the room was empty when no-one answered. Don’t let it go to your head."

"Too late." Beomgyu picked up his guitar again, adjusting it on his lap. "But I'm flattered. Especially considering you seemed pretty eager to follow other things Friday night."

The sheet music in Soobin's hands crinkled as his grip tightened and his blush somehow deepened, ”Beomgyu..."

He’s not sure he’s ever seen Soobin blush this much before.

"What? I'm just saying, you were very... committed." Beomgyu strummed a chord, letting it ring out in the quiet room. "Very invested."

Soobin made a sound that might have been a groan. "Can we not-“

“Okay, okay. Relax Soobin...” Beomgyu's voice was teasing, playful, but there was something underneath it that still made his pulse quicken. “Is just that I remember it very clear-”

"I was caught off guard." Soobin interrupted as he sat heavily on the piano bench with the sheet music forgotten in his lap as he stared at his hands, ears burning red.

"Mmm." Beomgyu played another chord, watching Soobin's profile in the golden light. "Is that what we're calling it?"

For a moment, the room filled with nothing but the lingering notes of his guitar and the sound of their breathing. Then Soobin looked up, meeting his eyes directly.

"What do you want me to say?" He asked quietly.

For some reason, it reminded Beomgyu of that summer course when Soobin had apologized for spilling orange juice on his lyric notebook, voice just as tentative now as it had been then.

"I don't know," Beomgyu said honestly. "You disappeared after. Maybe just... don't run away this time?

Soobin's lips quirked up at the corners, the first genuine smile Beomgyu had seen from him all week. "I'm sitting down."

"So you are." Beomgyu grinned back, feeling something settle in his chest. "What are you working on?"

The change of subject seemed to relax something in Soobin's shoulders. He shuffled through his sheet music, pulling out several pages covered in his neat handwriting. "A composition for Namjoon’s class. It's... well, it's probably terrible."

"Can I hear it?"

Soobin's eyes widened slightly. "You want to hear my composition?”

"Obviously." Beomgyu leaned forward in his chair. "I've been curious about your new piece for forever. You’ve got quiet the reputation, you know. Making professors cry and all that one time...”

“She wasn't crying because it was good," Soobin muttered, but there was something pleased in his expression as he positioned the sheet music on the piano stand.

"Play it anyway.”

Soobin's hands hovered over the keys and for a second, Beomgyu thought maybe his hands were cold, he realized then, stupidly, that he’d never seen Soobin blink this much before.

Soobin was nervous, but when the first notes filled the room he transformed.

It was beautiful. He’s heard Soobin play before plenty of times, since they share a couple of courses, but nothing like this. Never like this. Definitely not for him. He had expected a technically perfect and polished Soobin, but instead he got something else entirely. He got what seemed the most raw, honest part of him he’d never been allowed to reach before. The melody itself was complex but somehow familiar in the way it made Beomgyu feel like it was a conversation in a language he almost understood. He recognized the longing in it, the uncertainty, the hope all at the same time.

It seemed to Beomgyu like Soobin was was listening to something beyond the notes themselves the way he played with his whole body, shoulders moving with the rhythm, head tilted high. His brow furrowed in concentration, completely absorbed in the music, and Beomgyu realized he was seeing something private.

He quietly confirmed what, deep down, he’d always known. Choi Soobin was someone who poured his heart into ivory keys and worried his compositions weren't good enough. Someone who blushed when complimented and followed guitar music down hallways because it drew him in.

When the last note faded, Soobin's hands remained on the keys, his breathing slightly uneven from the intensity of playing and looked up at Beomgyu with something vulnerable in his expression.

"So?" Soobin asked quietly.

Beomgyu realized he was staring. Had been staring through the entire piece, probably with his mouth slightly open. "Soobin," he said, and his voice came out rougher than intended. "That was..."

He searched for words and came up empty. How could he explain what he felt? How could he say out loud that he wanted to hear everything Soobin had ever written? That he wanted to sit in rooms like this and watch him play until his fingers ached?

"Terrible?" Soobin supplied, but there was hope hiding behind the self-deprecation.

"Perfect," Beomgyu breathed. "It was perfect."

The smile that spread across Soobin's face was so radiant Beomgyu remembered the first time they met. He could take each one of these smiles and carry them in a tiny little pocket close to his heart.

"Really?" Soobin asked.

"Really." Beomgyu shifted his guitar, fingers finding a complementary chord progression. "Can you play it again? I want to try something with it."

What followed was the most natural thing in the world. Soobin played, and Beomgyu found the spaces between his notes, filling them with guitar lines that seemed to bloom from the original melody. No one had to say anything because the music did all the talking for them while mixing their sounds together until Beomgyu couldn't tell where Soobin's composition ended and his guitar began.

When they finally stopped, the room felt different. "That was..." Soobin started.

Beomgyu wanted to say magic. He meant it, but it was quiet corny, so he said instead,“Yeah... that was something.”

They sat in comfortable silence as the last notes faded and the golden light now deeper, more amber, reflected on their eyes.

Now, this was dangerous territory. Beomgyu has always known his feelings for Soobin, but somehow this was something deeper. No one could stop him now from wanting to know everything. What Soobin thought about in the quiet moments, how many times he rewrites the same measure before calling it “good enough.”, whether he ever talks to himself while sleeping, whether he has a favorite rainy day song, if he looks at the moon when he walks home late at night like he does.

"I should probably head home," Soobin said eventually, but he made no move to pack up.

"Should," Beomgyu agreed, not moving either.

They looked at each other across the small room. All he would have to do was ask. Ask Soobin to stay a little longer, to keep playing, to maybe grab dinner somewhere quiet where they could keep talking. Finally take the leap.

But before he could form the words, Soobin's phone buzzed on the piano bench. Then again. And again.

Soobin blinked, reaching for his phone with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, I should-“

"Of course," Beomgyu said, even though his chest felt hollow suddenly.

Soobin glanced at his screen and something shifted in his expression. "It's Yeonjun. He's... there's some kind of emergency with the landlord." He stood, already reaching for his sheet music. "I really do have to go."

"Right." Beomgyu forced a smile. "Emergency roommate situation. Can't ignore that."

"Beomgyu..." Soobin paused in packing his bag, looking like he wanted to say something more.

"Go," Beomgyu said gently. "Your friend needs you."

Soobin nodded, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. At the door, he turned back one more time. "The music... playing together... it was really good."

"Yeah," Beomgyu said softly. "It was."

After Soobin left, Beomgyu sat alone in the practice room as the golden light faded to blue. His guitar felt heavier in his hands, and when he tried to play the melody they'd created together, it sounded incomplete and empty.

But his heart felt the opposite, because it had seen behind the mystery, and when it answered the door letting certainty step in, it chanted, again and again: They belonged together.

"And then," Beomgyu said, sprawled across Taehyun's bed with his legs dangling off the edge, "he played this piece that was just... God, you guys should have heard it. It was like he reached into his chest and pulled out his actual heart."

Kai looked up from where he was playing on his Switch on the corner, ”You're glowing dude.”

“Am I?”

"You are," Taehyun confirmed from his desk chair, spinning lazily. "You've been glowing since you walked in here twenty minutes ago. It's nauseating."

Beomgyu threw a pillow at him. "I'm sharing a beautiful moment with my alleged best friends and this is how you treat me?"

"Beautiful moment," Kai repeated, grinning. "Is that what we're calling it?"

"It was beautiful! We played together, and it was like..." Beomgyu searched for the right words, staring up at the ceiling. "Like we knew each other for the first time."

Taehyun stopped spinning. "Okay, that's actually kind of romantic."

"Right?" Beomgyu sat up, eyes bright. "And he was so different from how he usually is. Not all mysterious and shit. He was nervous about me hearing his composition, can you believe that? Choi Soobin was nervous about impressing me."

"So what happened after?" Kai asked, setting his Nintendo aside.

"Yeonjun texted about some roommate emergency, and Soobin had to leave. But before he left, he said playing together was really good. And he looked like he wanted to say more, you know? Like there was something else on the tip of his tongue."

Beomgyu flopped back down, hugging the remaining pillow to his chest. "I think I'm in love with him. Like, actually in love. I want to wake up next to him every day. I want to hear every piece of music he's ever written. I want-“

"Okay, we get it," Taehyun said, but he was smiling. "You're in love."

"Completely," Beomgyu confirmed happily. "And I think... I think maybe he might feel something too? I know I’ve said that before, but this time is actually different.”

The hope in his voice made Kai's expression soften. "Based on what you've told us, it definitely sounds like there's something there."

"The party, the practice room..." Beomgyu counted on his fingers. "He could have left when he saw me there, but he stayed. He played for me. We played together. That has to mean something, right?"

"It means something," Taehyun agreed.

Beomgyu's phone buzzed, and he glanced at it with a small smile. "Text from my mom. She wants to know if we ate the kimchi she sent." He typed back quickly, then looked up at his friends. "Should I tell her about me and Soobin?"

"Please don't traumatize your mother," Kai laughed.

“Fine," Beomgyu replied to his mom with a cute emoji, set his phone aside and stretched. "Want to grab dinner? I'm thinking that noodle place near campus."

"Always," Taehyun said, already reaching for his jacket.

Naga Noodle House was busier than usual for a Wednesday evening. They could have gone anywhere else but Kai insisted on this location, something about the soy and honey sauce tasting better here than anywhere else, so Beomgyu ended up wedged into a table near the back, the low buzz of voices humming around them.

It had taken about fifteen minutes to get seated, and by now Beomgyu was mid-story about his music theory professor’s latest breakdown, eyes scanning the menu, when a laugh cut through the chatter.

His head turned automatically.

Somewhat next to them, half-hidden behind a column, Yeonjun sat at a corner table, gesturing animatedly while Soobin sat across from him, chin propped on his hand. Beomgyu could even see the small smile playing at the corners of Soobin's lips.

“Oh, shit. Now this has to be fate,” Kai whispered, wide-eyed, his gaze following Beomgyu’s.

"Should we go say hi?" Beomgyu asked too quickly, already half-standing.

"Let them finish eating first," Taehyun said reasonably. "We can catch them on the way out."

Beomgyu settled back in his seat, trying not to be too obvious about glancing over at their table. Kai was right. This had to be fate, so, as they waited for their food to arrive, he kept finding excuses to look.

That's when ta girl approached their table.

She was really pretty, effortlessly too, with long dark hair and a gorgeous smile. Beomgyu watched as she stopped beside Soobin's chair, leaning down to say something that made Yeonjun's eyebrows shoot up in amusement.

Beomgyu couldn't hear what she was saying over the din of the restaurant, but he could see her body language. The way she touched Soobin's shoulder. How she tucked her hair behind her ear ear, the soft smile, and finally sliding a small wrapped candy onto the table beside him.

Beomgyu almost laughed. Not out of malice but because he’d done it himself once, hoping for the same kind of smile she was trying to get now.

She was obviously, shamelessly flirting.

"Oh," Kai said quietly, noticing the same thing.

Beomgyu's stomach did something unpleasant as he watched the interaction unfold. The girl said something else, gesturing toward the empty chair at their table. An invitation, maybe.

Soobin's response was immediate and clear. A polite shake of his head, a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, and a gesture toward Yeonjun that probably suggested they were in the middle of something important.

The girl's face fell slightly, but she nodded with a small smile and walked away without argument.

"Well," Taehyun said, "that was..."

"He turned her down," Beomgyu said, something warm in his chest. "Did you see how quickly he said no?"

"I saw." Kai was studying Beomgyu's face carefully. "Good thing?"

"Very good thing." Beomgyu couldn't keep the smile off his face. "Just... immediate no."

But his relief was short-lived. Another person approached their table within minutes. This time a guy from their year, someone Beomgyu vaguely remembered from Leah’s party. The same confident approach, the same obvious interest.

And the same polite but firm rejection from Soobin.

Then it happened again. A different girl, same result. Did Soobin always get this much attention? Surely this is not normal.

Still, Beomgyu’s warm feelings began to curdle into something else entirely as he watched Soobin deflect each approach with the same detached politeness. There was something almost bored in his expression as he was going through the motions of social interaction without any real engagement. Beomgyu watched as Yeonjun laughed and Soobin rolled his eyes and shook his head in response.

"Wow," Taehyun said after the third person walked away looking disappointed. "He's really popular... and not interested in anyone.”

Not interested in anyone. Every person coming up to him leaving without reciprocity.

Beomgyu thought about the practice room. About how Soobin had blushed when he complimented his composition. How his breathing had changed when Beomgyu moved closer. How he'd looked almost desperate when Beomgyu brought up the party.

But looking at him now, watching him dismiss person after person with the same cool detachment... it felt familiar.

Was this how he looked too? When Beomgyu shamelessly flirted with him, when he leaned too close, was this the same expression Soobin wore? Polite but uninterested, going through the motions while internally wishing the interaction would end?

The thought made his stomach twist.

"Beomgyu?" Taehyun's voice sounded far away. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Beomgyu said automatically, tearing his gaze away from Soobin's table. "I'm fine."

But he wasn't fine. Because suddenly, every interaction they'd ever had, specially recently, suddenly looked different in his memory. Soobin's flushed cheeks in the music building, maybe that was embarrassment, not attraction. The way he'd leaned forward during the party game, maybe that was just the natural response to someone invading his personal space, not desire. Maybe Beomgyu had been seeing what he wanted to see, reading attraction into basic politeness.

Their food arrived, but Beomgyu barely touched it. He kept glancing over at Soobin's table, watching the way he interacted with Yeonjun. Relaxed, genuine, engaged. The difference between that and how he'd handled the flirting was stark.

He leaned toward them, trying hard to hear, ”I can't deal with these people bothering me all the time," Soobin was saying to Yeonjun, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “It’s exhausting and it makes me uncomfortable.”

Yeonjun scoffed, laughed and then said something in response that Beomgyu couldn't catch. People bothering him. Exhausting. Uncomfortable.

Was that what Beomgyu was to him? A persistent bother? Someone whose attention was unwanted and draining? Was he making him uncomfortable? Had Soobin been too polite to tell him to back off?

Maybe Soobin hadn't stayed because he wanted to spend time with Beomgyu. Maybe he'd felt obligated to be nice. Didn’t he say there was an emergency before? What was he doing here if he did? Maybe the emergency text from Yeonjun hadn't been real at all and it had been a planned escape route.

"Beomgyu," Kai said more urgently. "What's wrong? You look like you're going to be sick."

"I need to go," Beomgyu said, standing abruptly. The chair scraped against the floor, earning a few looks from nearby tables. He couldn't bare to check is Soobin noticed too.

"What? Why?" Taehyun was already reaching for his wallet. "We haven't even-“

"I just need to go. Please."

Something in his voice must have convinced them, because they didn't argue. Taehyun threw money on the table while Kai gathered their jackets, and within minutes they were outside in the cool evening air.

"Okay," Taehyun said once they were a block away from the restaurant. "What the hell just happened in there?"

Beomgyu couldn't bring himself to explain. Couldn't voice the growing certainty that he'd been making a fool of himself for months, that every moment he'd treasured had been one- sided.

"Did you see how he handled all those people flirting with him?" Beomgyu asked instead.

"Yeah, he was like, not into it,” Kai said. “Wasn’t that a good thing?”

"He wasn't just not into it Kai. He was... uncomfortable and annoyed." Beomgyu's voice was getting higher, faster. "And then he said he can't deal with people bothering him. That it's exhausting and uncomfortable."

Understanding dawned on Taehyun's face. "Oh, Beomgyu..."

"What if that's how he sees me too?" The words tumbled out in a rush. "What if every fucking time he's been thinking the same thing? That I'm just another person bothering him?"

"That's not-“ Kai started.

“Th- the practice room,” Beomgyu continued, his voice cracking slightly. “I know I said it was a beautiful moment but he just probably felt trapped. Like he had to be polite because we were alone in a small room. And when I brought up the party, when I was teasing him about almost kissing me, he probably wanted to disappear."

"You're spiraling," Taehyun said gently. "This isn’t-"

"Am I? Because it makes sense now. All of it." Beomgyu was walking faster now, his friends hurrying to keep up. “You’ve said it yourselves. He never flirts back, not really. God, I've been such an idiot."

They reached the corner where their paths home diverged, and Beomgyu stopped abruptly.

"I need to give him space," he said, the words tasting bitter in his mouth. "I need to stop... whatever this has been."

"Beomgyu," Kai said carefully, "I really think you're misreading the situation."

"No, I think I'm finally reading it correctly." Beomgyu forced a smile that felt like it might crack his face. "It's fine. I'm fine. I'll just... back off. Give him some peace."

He started walking toward his apartment, leaving his friends standing at the corner looking worried. Beomgyu waved without turning around, afraid that if he looked back, he might break down completely.

The next few days passed in a blur of careful avoidance.

Beomgyu stopped sitting in his usual spot at the coffee shop where he knew Soobin would see him. He took different routes across campus, avoiding the quad and the places he knew Soobin would be in entirely. When they ended up in the same lecture hall, he sat in the back instead of his usual third-row seat.

Most importantly, he stopped looking. Stopped seeking out those dark eyes across crowded rooms, stopped letting his gaze linger on familiar hands or the curve of a particular smile.

It was harder than he'd expected because every instinct told him to turn his head when he heard him close, to find excuses to walk past the composition labs to look for him. But he forced himself to resist.

If Soobin noticed the change, he gave no sign of it. At least not that Beomgyu could see, which wasn't much, considering he was actively avoiding looking.

But Taehyun and Kai definitely noticed.

"This is getting ridiculous," Kai announced on Thursday afternoon, flopping down next to Beomgyu in their usual booth at the boba shop. Taehyun slid in across from them, blocking any potential escape routes.

"What's getting ridiculous?" Beomgyu asked, not looking up from his drink.

"This whole martyrdom thing you're doing," Taehyun said bluntly. "Avoiding Soobin like he's got the plague, moping around campus like a kicked puppy."

"I'm respecting his boundaries."

"Boundaries he never actually set," Kai pointed out.

"He didn't need to set them explicitly. I got the message." Beomgyu finally looked up, and both his friends winced at whatever they saw in his expression. "Look, I was reading too much into things. It happens. I'm dealing with it."

"By running away?" Taehyun's voice was gentler now. "Beomgyu, this isn't like you. You don't give up on things you want."

"I give up on things that are never going to happen." Beomgyu stirred his drink aggressively, tapioca pearls clacking against the sides. "And this was never going to happen. I just convinced myself it might."

Kai and Taehyun exchanged a look, something unspoken passing between them. Beomgyu caught the flicker of it but decided not to ask.

"Maybe you should just be really upfront with your feelings," Kai, suddenly and out of nowhere, said with a voice charged with something Beomgyu couldn’t quiet place. "Like, actually tell him how you feel instead of trying to read signs and interpret looks acting like a kid.”

Something tightened in Taehyun’s expression as Kai’s words hit close to his own heart. His response was immediate and sharp. “Well, yeah, but what if it ruins everything? What if being direct just makes things awkward and they can't even be friends anymore?”

His voice made Kai's head snap toward him.

"Sometimes," Kai said quietly, still looking at Taehyun, "keeping quiet ruins things just as much as speaking up does."

"Easy to say when you're not the one risking everything," Taehyun shot back, and there was definitely something more happening here, some conversation underneath the conversation that Beomgyu, even is his miserable state, couldn’t ignore.

"Is it really risking everything if the person cares about you?" Kai's voice was softer now, almost pleading. "Maybe they're waiting for you to say something. Maybe they want you to be brave enough to-”

"To what? To make them uncomfortable? To put them in a position where they have to reject me and hurt my feelings? Some things are better left unsaid, Kai."

Beomgyu looked up from his drink, very aware that this conversation wasn't really about him anymore. There was tension crackling between his best friends that seemed to slip into view after years of unspoken words and careful distance.

And something inside him, already raw and aching, finally snapped.

"Oh my God," he said, voice rising despite the public setting. "Are you serious right now? You're both sitting here giving me advice about feelings when you've been dancing around each other for years?"

Taehyun went pale. “Beomgyu-"

"No, fuck this." The words came out louder than he intended, drawing looks from nearby tables. "I'm sitting trying to drown my feelings in stupid boba and you two are having some coded argument about emotional honesty when you can't even be honest with yourselves?"

Kai was staring at Taehyun with wide eyes. 

"You love each other!" Beomgyu practically shouted. "You're both idiots who are too scared to admit it!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Taehyun looked like he wanted to disappear into the floor, his face flushed red with panic and embarrassment. Kai's mouth was slightly open, processing.

And Beomgyu... Beomgyu felt empty. He doesn’t remember the last time he wasted all his emotional energy in one outburst that left him with nothing left.

"I'm going home," he said quietly, standing up from the booth. "You two figure your shit out."

He left them sitting there, Taehyun still frozen in panic and Kai looking like he was seeing the world with new eyes.

Beomgyu walked home through the early evening light, feeling lighter and heavier at the same time. At least his friends might finally be honest with each other. At least something good might come out of this mess.

Choi Soobin noticed.

He tried not to think about it, but there was no bright smile catching his eye across the coffee shop nor a familiar figure in his peripheral vision during lectures. No "accidental" encounters in the hallways that left him flustered and warm.

It seemed like Choi Beomgyu had simply... disappeared.

Not literally, of course. Soobin still caught glimpses of him around campus, but always at a distance. Somehow always moving in the opposite direction and looking anywhere but at him.

The change left him unsettled in a way he couldn't quite name.

"You're brooding," Yeonjun said over lunch, following Soobin's distracted gaze toward the far side of the dining hall where Beomgyu sat with his friends, pointedly not looking in their direction.

"I don't brood."

"You absolutely brood." Yeonjun took a big bite out of his tuna sandwich. "So what did you do?"

“What does that even-”

"Choi Beomgyu has been flirting with you for months, and now he won't even look at you. That doesn't happen unless someone fucked up,” Yeonjun's eyes narrowed. "And since he's the one avoiding you, logic says the fucking up was done by you."

Soobin set down his chopsticks, appetite gone. "I didn't do anything. But what if..."

"Continue."

“Remember what I told you about... that moment in the practice room?”

Yeonjun hummed in agreement, leaning back against the booth.

“Well, yeah. Like I said, it was perfect. I wanted to stay, to keep talking, but then you texted about the Mr. Floyd thing-”

“Fuck Mr. Floyd.”

“Yes, fuck him, but the thing is-” Soobin sighed and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. "Maybe I misread the whole thing."

Yeonjun looked at him like he'd grown a second head. "Soobin. Beomgyu has been trying to get your attention since forever. What on earth could you have misread?"

"Why is he avoiding me then?"

"I don't know, but I guarantee it's not because you misread a situation." Yeonjun leaned forward, lowering his voice. "When was the last time you actually made a move? Like, a real move, not just existing in the same space and hoping he'd figure out you're interested?"

Soobin opened his mouth to answer, then closed it. Because the truth was, he'd never made a real move. He'd been too.. anxious. He’s convinced that someone like Beomgyu, so bright and confident and magnetic, couldn’t possibly really want someone like him. Sure, Beomgyu has shown plenty of interest before, but what if he gets to really know him and realizes there’s nothing there? That he’s boring. Plain. Overrated. He got extremely good at masking all his insecurities with nonchalance

"That's what I thought," Yeonjun said, sitting back with a satisfied expression. "You've been letting him do all the work, and now for some reason he's stopped. Maybe he got tired of chasing you around."

The words hit Soobin harder than they should have. Because Yeonjun was right, he had really been letting Beomgyu do all the work. He never initiated. Never reciprocated. Never gave any clear sign that the attention was welcome, let alone wanted.

"Shit," he said quietly.

"Yeah, shit." Yeonjun's voice was gentler now. "So the question is: what are you going to do about it?"

Soobin looked across the dining hall again, but Beomgyu's table was empty now. He'd missed his chance to even catch his eye.

Again.

"I don't know," Soobin admitted. "He won't even look at me anymore. How am I supposed to fix this if he keeps avoiding me? I don’t actually know if that is it. What if he just met someone else?”

"Figure it out," Yeonjun said simply. "Because whatever's happening here, it's making you miserable and its messing with my aura.”

That night, Soobin lay awake staring at the ceiling, replaying every interaction he'd had with Beomgyu. How many times had Beomgyu put himself out there, only to be met with Soobin's careful composure? How many times had he been brave while Soobin hid behind politeness and fear?

And now, when Soobin was finally ready to be brave himself, Beomgyu had given up. The irony was almost laughable.

Choi Beomgyu is apparently a masochist who enjoyed torturing himself with memories, because he found himself in practice room 3B again.

It had been two weeks since his outburst at the boba shop, and he still felt raw about it. He had to admit that back then, for a few moments, when neither of his friends answered his texts, he was worried he royally fucked up. But seeing Kai and Taehyun show up to lunch the next day holding hands had been worth the emotional turmoil.

"I'm still mad at you," Taehyun had said, sliding into the booth next to a grinning Kai. "If that hadn't worked out, I think I would have actually killed you."

"But it did work out," Beomgyu had pointed out, stealing one of Kai's fries. “And you can never stay mad at me anyway. You’re welcome for forcing you both to stop being idiots."

"Says the king of idiots," Kai had laughed, then caught Beomgyu's expression. "Sorry. Too soon?”

“Way too soon."

Now, sitting in the same room where everything had felt possible days ago, Beomgyu strummed his guitar listlessly. The late afternoon light was hitting the windows at the same angle, but it didn’t feel as enchanting as before.

He was so lost in his own brooding that he almost missed the soft knock at the door. "Come in," he called, not looking up from his guitar.

The door opened, and Beomgyu's fingers went still on the strings.

It felt like a Deja-vu.

Soobin stood in the doorway, but the only thing different from last time it was that he looked like he hadn't slept in days. His hair was messier than usual, his clothes slightly rumpled, and Beomgyu somehow found him as gorgeous as always.

He had to work on that if he planed to get over him.

Still, his heart punched painfully against his ribs. “Uh... hi. It's occupi-”

"Can we talk?” Soobin stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a soft click.

Every instinct told Beomgyu to make an excuse, to escape before this conversation could hurt him more than he was already hurting. But something in Soobin's voice made him stay put.

"Sure," he said quietly.

Soobin didn't sit down. Instead, he stood in the middle of the room, hands clenched at his sides.

"You've been avoiding me," he said finally.

It wasn't a question, but Beomgyu treat it like one. “I have, yeah.”

"Why?"

Beomgyu set his guitar aside, suddenly unable to look at Soobin directly. "I think you know why."

"I really don't." Soobin's voice was strained. "One minute we're playing music together and everything feels... and then you won't even look at me anymore."

Beomgyu looked at him, confused. Why did Soobin look like Beomgyu had done something wrong?

"I'm giving you space!”, Beomgyu said, the words tasting bitter. "I finally realized I was making you uncomfortable!”

"Uncomfortable?" Soobin's eyes widened, genuine shock replacing the hurt. "Beomgyu, when have I ever seemed uncomfortable around you? Why would you think that?”

"I heard you," Beomgyu said quietly. "At the noodle place. Talking to Yeonjun about people bothering you. I literally heard you say how exhausting it is."

“The noodle place?”

“Naga noodle house! You were sitting with Yeonjun. You were wearing that stupid minion shirt.”

“What? Naga Noodle Hou-” Soobin stopped, understanding dawning on his face. "Oh. Oh, fuck. I remember now... you thought I was talking about you."

"Weren't you?"

"No!" The word came out so forcefully that Beomgyu finally looked up, startled. "God, no. I was talking about random people trying to flirt with me. People I don't know, people I'm not interested in. Not you. Never you."

Something fragile and hopeful started to unfurl in Beomgyu's chest, but he forced it down. “You said.. it was exhausting.”

"Do you want to know what's actually exhausting?" Soobin continued, taking a step closer. "Pretending I don't notice every time you smile at me. Pretending my heart doesn't stop when you stand close. Pretending I don't think about you constantly."

Beomgyu's breath caught. "What?"

"I'm so fucking gone for you that I can barely function," Soobin said, and his voice cracked slightly on the words. "I have been since that first day in that room when we first met. I was having such an awful day and you made me laugh like nothing. I still remember thinking I'd never met someone like you before.”

"You... what?"

Soobin ran a hand through his hair, leaving it even more disheveled. "I know I'm terrible at showing it, but that's because I'm scared, not because I'm not interested. You're so bright and confident and perfect, and I never thought someone like you would want someone like me."

Beomgyu stood up slowly, guitar forgotten. "Someone like you?"

Soobin's laugh was self-deprecating. "Do you know how many times I've wanted to kiss you? How many times I've started to reach for your hand and then chickened out?"

"But you've never..." Beomgyu's voice was barely a whisper.

"The party," Soobin continued, stepping even closer. "When you almost kissed me? I wanted it so badly I could barely breathe. And when you pulled away, when you said that thing about our first kiss not being like that... God, all I could think about was when it would happen. When you'd actually kiss me."

They were standing arm's length apart now, the golden light painting them both in warm hues. Beomgyu could see the sincerity in Soobin's eyes, the vulnerability that he'd been hiding behind careful composure.

"Playing with you, sharing my music with you, seeing you light up when you complimented my composition... I wanted to ask you if I could stay. I wanted to ask you out properly. But then Yeonjun texted, and I thought there would be other chances."

"There could have been," Beomgyu said. "If I hadn't been such an idiot."

"We're both idiots." Soobin smiled, and it was soft and fond and everything Beomgyu had been missing. "But maybe next time don't eavesdrop?"

The gentle teasing in his voice made Beomgyu let out a watery laugh, but tears were already pricking at the corners of his eyes. Relief and joy and overwhelming affection all hitting him at once. "You really like me?"

"I'm crazy about you," Soobin said, reaching out to cup Beomgyu's face with gentle hands. "I'm sorry it took me so long to say it."

"I'm sorry I ran away instead of just asking."

"We're really bad at this," Soobin laughed, thumbs brushing over Beomgyu's cheekbones.

"Terrible," Beomgyu agreed, leaning into the touch. "Maybe we should practice."

"Practice what?"

"Communication," Beomgyu said, then smiled. "Among other things."

"What other things?"

Instead of answering, Beomgyu closed the remaining distance between them, rising up on his toes to brush their lips together in the softest whisper of a kiss.

Soobin made a sound low in his throat, his hands tightening on Beomgyu's face as he deepened the kiss. It was gentle at first, tentative, but when Beomgyu's hands found the front of Soobin's sweater, tugging him closer, something shifted.

The kiss turned hungrier, more desperate, months of tension and longing poured into the connection of lips and breath and the soft sounds they made against each other's mouths. Soobin's hands slipped into Beomgyu's hair, and Beomgyu melted against him, finally why his mom always said love felt like coming home to a place you'd never been.

When they finally broke apart, both breathing hard, Soobin rested his forehead against Beomgyu's.

"Good??" he asked softly.

"Perfect," Beomgyu breathed. "Though we should probably practice more. You know, to make sure we get it right."

Soobin's smile was radiant. "I like the way you think."

This time, when they kissed, it was slower, deeper. Beomgyu's hands explored the warm skin at the base of Soobin's neck, making him shiver and press closer. Soobin's fingers traced the line of Beomgyu's jaw, then lower, ghosting over his throat in a way that made Beomgyu's breath hitch.

They were pressed together fully now, and Beomgyu could feel Soobin's heart racing against his chest, could taste the coffee on his lips, could lose himself in the soft sounds Soobin made when Beomgyu nipped gently at his bottom lip.

"We should probably..." Soobin started, then trailed off as Beomgyu's mouth moved to his neck, pressing soft kisses along the column of his throat.

"Probably what?" Beomgyu murmured against his skin.

"Talk more," Soobin managed, though his hands were sliding down Beomgyu's back and he knew talking was the last thing on his mind.

"We're talking," Beomgyu said, smiling against Soobin's neck.

Soobin's laugh turned into a soft gasp when Beomgyu found that sensitive spot just below his ear. "You're going to be the death of me."

"Good thing I have that universal receiver blood type," Beomgyu pulled back to meet Soobin's eyes. "I can keep you alive."

"That's not how it works."

"Details." Beomgyu grinned, then grew more serious. "Are we really doing this?"

"What exactly are we doing?" Soobin asked but his smile suggested he already knew what he meant.

"Dating. Being together. All of it."

"I'd like that," Soobin said softly. "I'd like that a lot."

They kissed again, soft and sweet, sealing the promise between them.

It was not Thursday, but Beomgyu found himself walking through the entrance of their usual boba shop with a tiny V shaped smile and Soobin’s hand in his.

When he got to the table, he could see Kai and Taehyun sitting on the same side of the booth while Yeonjun sat across from them, gesticulating wildly about something that had Kai laughing out loud.

“-so I wa like, 'Ma'am, that's not how you use a tuning fork,'" Yeonjun was saying as they approached.

"Please tell me you didn't actually say that to Professor Chen," Taehyun said giggling as Soobin slid into the booth, pulling Beomgyu down beside him.

"I did, and she made me demonstrate the 'proper technique' in front of the entire class." Yeonjun's expression was equal parts mortified and amused. "Turns out she was right and I've been doing it wrong for three years."

"At least you learned something," Taehyun offered diplomatically.

"I learned that I have the musical instincts of a tone-deaf ant, yes."

Beomgyu snorted. "That's very specific."

As they kept talking over half-melted ice and stolen boba pearls, Beomgyu realized there was something very easy about this. It felt stupidly, painfully simple. The way they all fit together.

Beomgyu's brain skittered to the odd places it goes when it feels safe. The plastic crackle of the couch in his grandmother’s living room, the blur of his first trip to Lotte World with his parents, the swell of pride when he and Taehyun hauled their first set of furniture into the apartment. And threaded through all of it was the line that had been haunting him for weeks, nudging his shoulder at red lights, brushing past him in checkout lines, and now here again, with Soobin breathing soft beside him:

Everything is exactly how it's meant to be.