Kang Taehyun is starting to sound more and more like his damn mother, and if he does not stop, Beomgyu might just snap out of irritation.

Yes, he knows very well that it is past midnight, and he also knows that he should continue his work in another place or another time before security ignores the dim light emitting from his studio and leaves him stranded.

"You're so fucking dramatic, you know that?" Taehyun rolls his eyes hearing the antics of his closest friend, who just so happened to be the man behind his top-selling and chart-dominating songs and albums alongside his beloved Hueningkai. He succumbed to the stubbornness of the one and only Choi Beomgyu, finally flopping down on the sofa in his studio.

"Yeah, and what of it? I compose music on the daily with a variety of lyrics to channel the inner poet inside of me," as he rose to wave a sheet of paper in front of his best friend's face, he started to clutch his chest in an exaggerated gesture. "you, who have wounded my soul, how dare you bruise the fragile ego and the growing vanity of me, when my only purpose in life is to awaken the heart of dead souls roaming the earth."

That earned a smack on the shoulder from Taehyun, his face contorted between wanting to laugh and wanting to mock Beomgyu.

"I am glad that you are never given the chance of becoming a poet, for what would the world think of hearing the words you just utter fall from your lips?" Taehyun is just teasing him now, having no more energy to argue over something that Beomgyu would never change his mind about because that is how hard-headed he could be.

"Honestly, just fuck off and let me do my thing."

"You sound tired, you look like you are about to sway and drop on the floor, and the dark circles under your eyes are not as attractive as you might think it is."

Beomgyu glares at him, hard. "It is your job to look the part and be primped and gorgeous at any given time. I'm just the man behind the scenes, nobody is going to pay any attention to me nor my shitty state."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's not about presenting your absolute best to the public, but more on the matter of your well-being," the way Taehyun rubs his eyes told Beomgyu just how much he is getting on the younger's nerve, just another day of him being frustrated and Beomgyu being ignorant of others. "And if you hate being pitied at; curse your god-like superiority tendencies, by the way; then at the very least consider about your exhausted state might get in the way of your creative process."

"I've been working like this for years, my dear, and a creativity block is something that I never encounter." Beomgyu considers this for a moment. "Well, seldom encounter, but my point still stands."

Taehyun raises both of his hands in a gesture of surrender, knowing well how this argument will end, as do the other ones they have almost every week. "You tire me."

"Then go home and rest, Tyun. Don't let me keep you when you know that nothing could separate me from my work, not when I'm at the highest," he smiles at the idol, exhaustion written on his face plainly, but his mind is buzzing with ideas and the melody is flowing through him. He simply cannot abandon his work right now. "and you have a busy day tomorrow, you have to be at your best."

"Just promise me you will not overwork yourself and eat something in the morning. If I hear from anyone that you only bring coffee to work late tomorrow, I will have someone drag you forcefully from the studio."

"You can drop some food at my place," Beomgyu attempted to take advantage of the situation, his mischievous self cannot resist the idea of free food. "You can, for once, buy me something healthy to eat and not just take away fast foods and boxed products."

The idol seems to consider this, taking every scheme of Beomgyu quite seriously. "I'll drop off food tomorrow, on one condition."

"That tomorrow I will stop working and go home at 10 pm?" Taehyun's eyebrows go up, slightly surprised. "Oh please, that is the only deal you would want to offer me."

As he grabs his jacket to ward off the January air, Taehyun ruffles Beomgyu's hair fondly, sighing. Their language of affection rarely requires words, when both are content and comforted with gestures and simple touches, their eyes speak volume.

"See you tomorrow?"

"Always."

One glance at the clock hanging far off the other side of the room and Beomgyu knows that it's near dawn. He cursed about losing track of time, not feeling guilty about finishing up until the chorus which still needs revising, as he's more worried about worrying Taehyun and Hueningkai. His stomach protested, upset that Beomgyu has not eaten anything since yesterday afternoon.

Fuck waiting for Taehyun to deliver the food, I'm just going to make ramen and call it a day.

He quickly rearranged the mess that is his studio, not wanting to come back to a mess where it will lead to him being unmotivated to do work and walk out to get a well-deserved sleep. And to have early breakfast, of course.

He was about to enter the elevator when he heard it.

Upbeat music playing from the dance studio, the sound faint since Beomgyu is on the floor below it, but he can hear it, nonetheless. The unmistakable sound of shoes thumping on the wooden floor is soft, and in his delirious state, his interest is piqued.

Who in their right mind would already be in the building to practice at 5 am?

If it turns out to be any of the artists, especially Taehyun or Hueningkai, I might have to discipline them for not taking the required rest time.

One reflection of himself and Beomgyu knows it would just be a bluff. He likes it when someone is working hard for something even when the clock strikes at a more inappropriate time.

His legs are slightly wobbly from the lack of rest he gets and how much he just wants to drop to the floor and lay there. But when Choi Beomgyu's curiosity is aroused, nothing could stop him. Come to think about it, almost nothing could stop him when he's set on doing something. And so, he grabs the railing tightly until each knuckle is prominent and white, which effectively awakens him, and slowly ascends the stairs, the sound of the music getting louder with each step.

Beomgyu was greeted with a heavenly sight the second his eyes roamed the dance studio.

A man is dancing to the song he made for Choi Soobin, another one of the artists signed under this label. The movements are graceful and powerful, drawing Beomgyu's attention fully on him. The sneakers that the man is wearing produce a squeaky sound as he glides on the floor, doing an elaborate dance move.

Beomgyu stood at the end of the staircase, heart-pounding and eyes transfixed on every move the man does, doing his best not to make a sound and startle him.

"This is early for anyone else to be here already."

His sound breaks through the trance Beomgyu is in, eyes clearing to stare at a pair of warm brown eyes with a shape resembling a fox's eyes.

A pair of eyes he knows well from the company pictures and Soobin, showing off about his best friend, the choreographer of the company.

The elusive Choi Yeonjun.

He takes off the hat covering his hair, and the curly blue hair unfurls, falling over his forehead and partially covering his eyes before he blows them to the side, irritated by the length. Beomgyu keeps staring, somehow mesmerized by anything Yeonjun is doing no matter how minuscule it is.

"Are you okay? You look... spent." Yeonjun's voice is soft with no judgment, only concern for Beomgyu. That makes him self-conscious, quickly looking down at his rumpled outfit and touching his face.

"Do I look that bad?"

"Beomgyu," he said his name with the tenderness that makes Beomgyu's heart swell. "you never looked bad, like ever. But anyone with eyes could see how tired you are, and how much you need more sleep if you want to survive."

That coming from Yeonjun somehow is not as irritating as it is when Taehyun says it, and that's what scared him. He knows Yeonjun, they often joined the company's meetings to discuss the artists' concepts and what songs they want, and also what kind of choreography would suit them best. He talked with Yeonjun either, frequently matching the songs he's making to the choreography Yeonjun is about to make.

Yes, they work together plenty, alright. With every day that he observes Yeonjun and how dedicated he is to dance and how much he loves it, Beomgyu can't help but feel adoration for the elder, growing more and more with each passing day. His feelings were a bud, nurtured and tended to with care, and he couldn't exactly place what is it.

But for now, he settles for a simple admiration, someone to look up to (and maybe care about).

"I'll manage like I always do." Beomgyu can't help the yawning emptiness as he's faced with the reality that he barely lives, he is just grabbing onto a ledge, surviving and managing even while he's doing what he is passionate about.

Something in Beomgyu's face must have changed, for Yeonjun's eyes brightened with the look of someone with a mission. Or a purpose.

"Oh no, I know that look."

The smile grows wider on Yeonjun's face, sweats still rolling off his forehead. "Damn right, you are coming with me."

"I need to eat breakfast before anything. Taehyun will have my head if he knows I'm wandering off." he protested with fervor, not feeling a trace of sleepiness anymore.

"I hate you," Yeonjun is now grabbing Beomgyu's wrist, clearly not taking no for an answer. Not like Beomgyu could, he is hopeless when it comes to the elder. "It was supposed to be a surprise, but I am taking you to eat breakfast."

"You're kidding, right? It's 5 am."

"So? It's not a sin to have breakfast before the sun rises. Early bird gets the worm." As they make their way down the stairs, Beomgyu attempts to let his hand free from Yeonjun's grip (it's not safe to be walking while holding hands, he told himself), but to no avail. He is too weak and he barely had any upper body strength.

"I don't care about the time, I eat sporadically too," Beomgyu presses the elevator button with his free hand. "What kind of restaurant would open before the birds are even awake yet?"

Yeonjun's eyes are mischievous, enjoying this too much. "Well, for one, there are restaurants and food services that open 24 hours. But those are not as fun as what I had in mind."

"I never took you as a stealer, but I might change my mind."

"Do you truly see me that low?" Yeonjun looks slightly hurt, and if he's being real or faking it, Beomgyu did not know. "My friend owns this restaurant, grander than your usual fast-food service, and they serve the best pasta in town."

"I'm guessing it's still close."

Ding

As they enter the elevator and stand next to each other, hands almost grazing, Yeonjun looks down and tries his best to hide the slight blush climbing up his neck.

"Uhh, yeah it is," his answer sounds distant, and Beomgyu looked to the side at a blushing mess that is Choi Yeonjun, not knowing why. "I mean, he comes to the restaurant early, but he only opens at 9 am."

He didn't look okay, Beomgyu thought. Why is his face red all over? Is he embarrassed to be seen with me or something?

"Yeonjun-hyung, you're okay? Are you embarrassed?"

That makes Yeonjun snap his head up, eyes still slightly distant. "What? What do you mean embarrassed? Why would I be?" he's just rambling and he wanted to bury himself six feet deep in the ground.

"I mean, you seemed distracted, your face is red, and you won't even look at me." Beomgyu seems to catch what he's saying, surprised by himself. He never liked eye contact with anyone nor did he like it when someone's attention is solely on him.

He has decided that he is most definitely not okay.

"Oh my, do you like it when I give you my full attention?" The blubbering mess that was Yeonjun is now gone, his eyes shining with mirth and obvious fondness.

"That is NOT what I mean, god."

The laugh Yeonjun lets out is melodic and soft, floating in the cramped space of the elevator and bouncing around, and Beomgyu could spend his whole day listening to it, getting drunk by it. It scares him slightly, the sudden rush of emotions he has for the elder. Has it always been like this, or is this realization the result of the time he observed Yeonjun, admiring his work ethic and his passion, his personality and his presence?

No, you dumb bitch. You're delirious and you need a solid 10 hours of sleep to function.

"Earth to Choi Beomgyu." Slim fingers appeared in front of his eyes, snapping him back to reality.

"What?"

Yeonjun shakes his head not unkindly. "You're staring off into space, again."

"Yeah, sorry about that, maybe I'm just tired." and apparently, lack of sleep also affects how quickly his brain works. "Wait, what do you mean, again ?"

Silence. And it is not helping Beomgyu with his constant worries whether he says something wrong or not.

His voice comes out soft, maybe too soft for Beomgyu's liking. "I know that in meetings, you often stare at the wall as if it would give you answers or ideas. You had this look on your face like you are planning everything in your head and then you are trying to project it into reality by," Yeonjun waves his hand around.

"By drilling holes to the wall or everyone's head?"

"If you think so, then yeah."

"I wasn't thinking about anything earlier, though."

"I know."

The sound of the elevator shuts them up, and as the door opens, Yeonjun bolts out of it like he's being shot by lightning.

"But you're definitely thinking about me, am I right?" he just laughs again, walking through the lobby in a cheery manner that did not belong to the early time of the day before the sun comes out. In the quiet morning with the darkness wrapping itself on the world, Choi Yeonjun's presence is loud and bright, replacing the sun while it rests.

He's going to be the death of me if exhaustion didn't claim me first , Beomgyu thought as he walked out, following Yeonjun and content with wherever he chooses to go.

"I'm not going to lie; I was expecting the restaurant to be less extravagant and fancy." Beomgyu muses, his eyes still devouring every little detail inside.

Yeonjun pats him on the shoulder, walking ahead to talk to his friend, Beomgyu assumes.

"Hey, it's me," Yeonjun spreads his arms wide, turning around to face him. "I am expected to be surrounded by nothing less than ordinary."

Beomgyu rolls his eyes, looking either endeared or annoyed by the god-like ego that Yeonjun has. He shakes his head slightly, trying not to break into a smile just by the doe eyes of the great composer standing in awe.

"You forget that you're not the artist here."

"Ah, but without me, they wouldn't reach the place in the industry that they occupy currently."

Maybe it's the flash of sadness in his eyes, maybe it's the slight shift on his feet, but Yeonjun can sense that Beomgyu is trying to not take what he's saying to a personal level. Not that Yeonjun knows about his story, how he came to be one of the most trusted producers and composers, with his name having the most songs signed to it. Yeonjun wished he could hold back his tongue and shut up.

Beomgyu snapped out of his moment, eyes clearing and brightening into the pair of brown that twinkled under the fairy lights of the restaurant early in the morning.

"You're saying that what I did isn't as important? Or will you never admit that or else your ego might get blown out of proportion?" If Yeonjun was not facing the man, he would think of this as a jab, but his tone is light and teasing, with no trace of malice.

"Don't worry, you're the most important person in the goddamn building."

Both can hear soft footsteps coming from inside, and Yeonjun turns around, and there he is.

The owner and the chef of the restaurant, San, is strolling with an apron splattered with water and flour, his hands open in a welcoming gesture.

"Trying to get yourself a favor before I can even properly wake up, eh? You're not getting away with not paying again."

"San, the bane of my existence," Yeonjun meets him in the middle, hugging his best friend from college, the smell of batter and his signature blueberry sorbet clinging on his apron, comforting as ever. "How lovely it is to see you again after 3 months of being busy, it is as if I breathe fresh air."

"Bane of your existence? I kept you alive for 4 years while you were starving after every late-night dance practice of you abusing your own body to the point of breaking." San reprimands him, hitting his back with enough force that he staggers forward.

"It's called dedication."

San shakes his head, not sharing the sentiment. "No, it's called being an idiot. I have to stay up late just to wait until you get to the dorm."

Yeonjun is about to retort back when he remembered Beomgyu, standing a couple of feet from them with a polite smile and a hesitant expression, looking out of place.

"Dear God, why am I being such an idiot? I brought a..." what are they? Friends? No, they would not qualify as being friends when they're shy around each other, not knowing precisely how to act. Co-worker? Too formal for his liking, not how he would describe the calm serenity that is Beomgyu.

"We work at the same company," Beomgyu chimes in, stepping forward with less awkwardness. "Hello, I'm Choi Beomgyu, and I've been told you serve the best blueberry puff pastry tarts."

Eyes open wide as San takes in Beomgyu, most likely remembering him from Yeonjun's constant praises and blabbers. "So, you're the Beomgyu that this idiot talks about quite often. I feel like I already know you from him alone."

Yeonjun wishes he could melt to the ground and disappear now that Beomgyu knows that he talks about the latter to other people. The way San said it, it sounds like Yeonjun is harboring a crush on Beomgyu. Sounds like, or are you actually crushing on him? Yeonjun banishes the thought away, steering clear from that topic.

And Beomgyu? He looks embarrassed at the prospect of someone talking about him, shifting his head slightly to avoid Yeonjun's eyes, which are now transfixed on his best friend.

"Is that piece of information necessary?" his tone is menacing in a light-hearted way, not letting room for no answer.

San barely notices the threat, casually taking a step towards Beomgyu. "No worries, he never said any ill-words about you. It's rather interesting actually, the way he used to talk to me about how you would stare off and get lost in your own world for what felt like an eternity and breaking out of it to writing your masterpieces, as he would say it. Or how adorable you look when you brainstorm with anyone, bouncing on your feet in excitement."

Oh, Yeonjun can't even describe how much he wants to smother San or tackle him to the ground, only to make him close his mouth from revealing more embarrassing information. He takes a step forward, ready to pull him back, until he notices the amusement in Beomgyu's small smile, no longer shy or hesitant.

"Did he, now? That is indeed interesting." The same amusement grazing his lips are audible in his tone as well, relishing the thought of someone praising him with such intensity that his eyes are burning.

"You... I..." he looks up, frustrated that he could not find the words to play along with. Choi Yeonjun, the most competent flirt in the company's building with a tongue as fluid as honey, positively crumbles under the fiery gaze of someone who would otherwise be out of his element. "That's irrelevant, and we're here to eat so we better get at it."

San just chuckles as he glides toward his kitchen and barking orders to his staff. He stares at his friend while filing away this moment. You will get payback for that, you slimy piece of shit.

He didn't know when and how, but the next second Beomgyu is still behind him, and the next he is standing right next to him, this time their arms brushing. Beomgyu's skin feels cool, such a contrast to Yeonjun's own, now clammy and slightly sweaty for a variety of reasons.

"Do you also have a usual sitting spot here, hyung? Or can I pick it out this time?" asked Beomgyu with a tenderness that knots his stomach. It's just the hunger, don't get ahead of yourself!

"You're the guest of honor here, so yes, go pick wherever you want to sit."

Beomgyu smiles in a gesture of gratitude, skipping around to the far end of the restaurant with a complete view of the sky and the streets. What a sentimental thing to do, tired and spent from the lack of rest, enjoying a feast at the ass crack of dawn with one of the best views to witness it.

"I see what you mean." The sound coming from behind him surprises Yeonjun, making him turn back to a grinning San holding a wooden spoon.

"What do you mean, what I mean?"

San steps closer, speaking in a low voice. "Your Beomgyu is really precious, I can see how you are so smitten with him." This topic again, Yeonjun thought, hating how his heart is picking up their pace.

"First of all, he is most definitely NOT mine," he counts on his finger, an excuse to busy his hands. "Second of all, I am not smitten in the way you think I am."

"Jjunie, I know you for years now. I have witnessed you fighting through different heartbreaks, be it from someone hurting you or from your reluctance to break their heart for not loving them the way they love you. I have seen the ways you dote on people, how you flirt with the ones you have genuine feelings for, or the ones who you love to flirt with just because you like the effect you have on them. You like feeling wanted and in control, because you are trying to avoid the same hurt you endure a few times, you- "

"Stop," his voice comes out in a plea, begging his best friend to not remind him of the years before. It hurts too much, the reminder is a band-aid ripped out of his already healing wound, now bleeding again. "San, I don't want to hear anymore."

Seeing the fog in Yeonjun's eyes sobers San, stopping him from his observation. "I'm... sorry, I forget how much you hate your past."

"It would do you good if you stop meddling with my business for your own pleasure." The jab comes out too harsh, and San flinched from the bitterness. He knows trying to reason with Yeonjun is a lost cause, and he tires from having to argue with Yeonjun again and again.

"You're right, I'm sorry, again."

Yeonjun takes a deep breath, composing himself with a shudder. "Whatever, I guess. What's your point?"

"My point is that you have a pattern on how you treat your crushes, but he," San gestures his hand towards the table where Beomgyu is currently occupying. "He does not fit any of them. You talk about him differently, you act differently around him, and you seem a great deal happier and lighter with him."

"That still didn't tell me what your point is."

"My point is that you don't just have a crush on him, you are practically in love with him, perhaps for the first time in your life."

The L bomb drop feels as intimidating as he had often thought, glancing at Beomgyu now, he is certain now that he, indeed, is in love with Choi Beomgyu.

This is silly, you barely hung out with him outside work except for a couple of times with other colleagues.

"You're thinking about it, again ," reprimands San, shaking his shoulder as if to wake him up. "Stop thinking about your feelings and your fears, just let it flow as fluid as the water."

"This is all so sudden; you have to understand."

"Sudden or not, don't waste every opportunity to be with him and to show how much you care about him. Go and enjoy your time, I don't care about your stupid brain getting fried when he's around. He finds it endearing, anyways." San pushes him to the table, signaling with his hands that food will be ready in a few minutes.

Yeonjun is muttering to himself, cursing about how he could face Beomgyu now that he knows for certain about his feelings, afraid of having to look at Beomgyu straight in his starry, serene eyes without wanting to rip his hair out of his head. He pulls the chair across from Beomgyu, showing the younger a small smile.

"Catching up with your friend? I bet it feels nice after a long time." Beomgyu muses, voice soft and interested.

"It's fine, I guess. He was just annoying me as he usually does. But when you have years of history with them, it is a given to share embarrassing stories about your past and use it as leverage."

They talked for a while about Yeonjun in college, a struggling dance major with a dedication and passion burning hot and fiery but with barely any money to support his studies, only managing to secure a spot because of a scholarship and sheer luck that the university staff picked him when he was performing his best dance piece yet. Since he couldn't find a dorm room at the dance department, he paired up with San, from the culinary department which is located precisely next to the dance department building.

They talked about the troubles Yeonjun landed back then, from when he got caught outside the dorm past curfew, or when he stole instant ramen from the local grocery store when he was desperate to stock up more food before his exam, to the days when he would speak too freely to his lecturer and instructor, not fond of the idea that he should do a specific genre of dance when he specifically wanted nothing to do with it. They talked about how San did provide plenty of food for the absolute eating machine that is Choi Yeonjun, coming back to the dorm always complaining about his stomach and sweaty body flopping down to the sofa and getting curses from his roommate.

"How are you not getting into trouble for staying the whole night in the dance studio? Did you get locked in there or something?" Beomgyu is just joking, but Yeonjun ponders on the question.

"Who said I didn't infuriate the academic staff of the dance department? They were livid, alright," muses Yeonjun, chuckling at the memory of the exasperated face his instructor gave to him first thing in the morning after finding out Yeonjun spent the whole night in the studio. "And yeah, I was once locked in the studio because the staff didn't realize that I'm in the studio. Fun times, panicking for a full ass hour trying to get people to unlock the door for me. Then again, it all ended up being pointless. I spent more and more time in the studio until past midnight."

Beomgyu's eyes are wide, which he finds endearing. "You pull all-nighters a lot? You idiot, you should have given yourself more time to rest and re-energize. You're not a robot."

"Coming from someone who works past curfew on the daily? It's not much of a request." He teases, glancing towards the kitchen when he notices movements. "Fucking finally, I'm starving after the practice earlier."

The waiter bows his head respectfully, hands moving to put their food and drink on the table. Blueberry puff pastry tarts are calling to him, his favorite food in the universe right after spicy ramen. He keeps putting down food, making Beomgyu's jaw drops.

"I... we did not ask for this much?" the statement comes out as more of a question, still taking the sight of the feast.

"Mr. San wants you to experience the full experience of dining here, and so we serve the complete meal. I hope you enjoy it, sirs." The waiter bows his body this time, then walks away. Yeonjun notices San standing behind the counter, a mischievous smile playing at his lips. He winks at Yeonjun, telling him that he did a great job at not looking like a fool in front of Beomgyu.

That makes Yeonjun roll his eyes. It's not a job or shit, I genuinely love talking to him. It's so easy, he makes it so easy to be around.

"Which one should I try first? There's... plenty to eat. Not that I'm complaining, I need all the food I can get." Beomgyu picks up the chopsticks, hovering them over the foods, and makes a show of moving them around as if he is making a competition over which food will get picked by him.

"Blueberry puff pastry tarts, of course. The best food that San has ever made in his life."

Beomgyu hesitates for a second, hands paused. "Aren't you going to eat it? It's okay, I can eat the others, I'm certain it's as good."

"It's okay, you have to have that as your first dish here. It's a stupid tradition I made back then. Plus, I can always bully San to make me more of those."

The soft laugh Beomgyu let out makes Yeonjun blush, ringing through the restaurant despite the low sound. He is so sick for being so smitten, getting flustered over the smallest things Beomgyu does. Why does falling in love had to be torture like this, he thought.

"If you say so, hyung."

Something shifted between them after that one fateful morning of shared breakfast under the light of the fading moon making way to the rising sun, surrounded by warm ambiance and tender music and their laughter floating around the restaurant, heart light and body tingling from the thrill and perhaps exhaustion.

They grow closer than before, Yeonjun arriving in the morning holding two cups of coffee, knocking on Beomgyu's studio with ice-cold americano at 4 am whenever he decides to stay and works on some more as not to lose his inspiration and work tirelessly, not caring about how it sound and focusing about letting the melody flows through him. At times, Yeonjun hung out at his studio and watched, mesmerized, as Beomgyu's fingers strummed the guitar, trying to find the right note and synchronizing the entire song. The long fingers are deft and quick, moving gracefully that it makes Yeonjun slightly envious, mostly awestruck.

To him, Choi Beomgyu is an absolute miracle.

Sometimes, Beomgyu would retire early (well, earlier than his usual work time) before 11 pm, making a detour at the dance studio and standing back at the stairs, content on watching Yeonjun dancing his usual contemporary routine when he needs inspiration late at night, or to let go of the day's burden from his shoulder, he would say often. Beomgyu always admires the fluidity of Yeonjun's movements, specifically when he dances freestyle to a slow song, finding it more intimate and emotional with each move telling a story. It fits him, he decided.

"You do love to lurk around like a stalker, eh?" the dancer picks up his water bottle, emptying it within seconds. "What do you think about that dance? I just polished the chorus, and I think it fits better now. The song is more emotional than their usual concepts, so I have to think about how to make the choreography doable for them."

Beomgyu approaches him with another bottle of water in his grip, handing it to the still panting Yeonjun. "It's beautiful and fitting." For you, he thought.

"Really? That's high praise, coming from you."

"I can barely dance, my opinion regarding dance moves is irrelevant. I only point out if I think the choreography fits the song and the vibes of it or not, and since I'm also a dramatic bitch, if it can also evoke emotion from me, plus point for you."

"Yeah, but I still value your opinion and inputs more than anyone else. I like how you describe the movements as if it's telling a story. Make it seem like what I'm doing is not as much of a waste as what I usually tell myself it is." He breathes easier now, grabbing his small towel to wipe the sweat from his face and arms. Beomgyu can't help but stare at his arms, corded with muscle and toned to perfection, as if it was sculpted by the hands of God.

"That's what I'm here for," Beomgyu peels off his eyes from the arms, staring at the pair of fox-eyes instead. "Being dramatic and coming up with tales of the battle against oneself. I find it very relaxing."

"Ah, of course. At the very least you use that hobby of yours into something useful, say, writing lyrics that stabs the heart." Yeonjun finishes tidying up his belongings, throwing them over his shoulder and grabbing Beomgyu's wrist. They can't deny the pleasant tingle running up their arms, making them both look away from each other.

"It's past 11 pm now," Beomgyu glances at the clock hanging on the wall. "Do you want to call it a night? You have a hectic schedule tomorrow."

Yeonjun starts to pull Beomgyu, a routine of theirs for some time already. "The day is not over until it's midnight, and I have somewhere I want to show you."

"Is it one of your weird underground exhibits again? Or a game arcade?" asks Beomgyu skeptically, tugging Yeonjun's hand to make him stop walking.

The mysterious smile Yeonjun gives him says nothing else other than the promise of adventure and a grand time. Every time Yeonjun has a plan because that's what he is. The light to guide Beomgyu to let go of his darkness, the one who cracked open his shell of loneliness to a new world of wonder despite the dangers lurking around.

"You just have to wait and see, my dear Beomgyu."

And that is how they would start the night, or any time of the day, Yeonjun pulling Beomgyu to a great unknown, introducing him to the wonders he had never thought this city could have.

Over the course of one month, they had done plenty other than their usual work routine and visiting each other for support (and to stare at the other endlessly, pining silently and hopelessly). Often, they would visit the ice cream booth just outside the building, Beomgyu, being the flexible person that he is, made it his life mission to try out every single flavor the parlor serves, which sums up to a total of 56 flavors. Yeonjun always shakes his head and mutters to himself why anyone would try out different flavors and not stick to one and obsess over it. A classic kind of guy, only ever buying the flavor mint chocolate, which this parlor, in his opinion, serves the best mint chocolate ice cream in all of Seoul. The ratio of chocolate chip and the intensity of the mint is just right, with enough sweetness to not cover the mint taste.

Sometimes they went further, coming up with a challenge to not bring their wallet and a drop of won, and see how far they would go without money. The strolls are always pleasant, usually done just as the sun rises from the sky, peaking shyly between the clouds, or nearing dusk, where the sky is splashed with orange-purple streaks, painting the earth dark gold and rosy, casting long shadows over the trees and themselves. Sometimes they hold hands, casually, Yeonjun always told himself, while Beomgyu would look nonchalant despite his heartbeat steadily quickens with each step they took.

At times, during their breaks or when the director gave them a free day, Yeonjun would bring them to weird exhibits that he mostly knows from his time in college, wandering around every crook and cranny for something new that would arouse his excitement. And every time, Beomgyu would bring his camera and take pictures, his dedication to make every moment count is burning in his eyes, feverish but happy.

But their favorite times would be when Beomgyu comes up with a melody to pour out his intense emotions for Yeonjun, more than words could ever express. He would furiously scribble down notes and keep strumming his guitar to harmonize it, making sure every sound fits his vision and emotions. And when he's satisfied with it, he would bring them to Yeonjun, letting him dance freestyle whenever the creative block frustrated him. Beomgyu with his song and Yeonjun with his dance. Their love language.

The first time he did this was when he realized how much of a goner he is for Choi Yeonjun, 2 weeks after their restaurant detour in the blind morning, as he watched Yeonjun tips his head up to bask in the morning sun in one of their morning strolls, the light of dawn coloring his skin golden, casting shadows of his long lashes. And at that moment, Beomgyu has never seen anyone so beautiful in his entire life.

I am, undoubtedly, in love with Choi Yeonjun , he thought as a smile broke on his face, ignoring the beautiful sight of the sunrise to learn every feature of Yeonjun's face basking in the light, his hands itching for his camera.

That day, Beomgyu ran to his studio, not even bothering to say his 'see you later' to Yeonjun, his mind already buzzing with the flow of melody mixed with his sudden, intense feelings. He locked his studio, not wanting any intruders as he worked tirelessly. It took him 5 hours of coming up with the melody, adding and revising parts of it that sound out of place, and refining the song to his level of perfection.

"Gyu? Are you in there? Is it okay if I come in?" Yeonjun's voice pierced through the frenzy state Beomgyu was in, making him panic.

"Yeah, I'm in here, and uhh," Beomgyu looks around the state of his studio, littered with paper already scribbled with notes or crumpled from the failed ones, some snack wrappers scattered across his sofa and rack, and decided that Yeonjun will not see the state of his studio in such disarray. "I'm in the middle of something. What do you want?"

He heard Yeonjun shifting his feet, meaning that he's agitated. "It's nothing very important, to be honest. I, uh, I just wanted to show you the dance for the bridge part of Soobin's new song, see if it looks alright or not. I don't think it's good, there's something not clicking with it, and I need you to be the judge."

"Oh, another one of your creative blocks?"

"It's not a block, more on me not being able to connect my body with this song part."

Beomgyu puts down the headphone he had been using to refine his song, pondering for a moment.

"Let me finish this for a quick second. I'll go to your studio in 15 minutes, is that okay?" asked Beomgyu timidly, eyes transfixed on the door but his mind straying back to his creation, the need to fix the end part was as strong as ever.

"Sure thing, I don't mind that. I'm going to go and grab some soda and snacks for later while waiting." The sound of Yeonjun's footsteps got fainter until he couldn't hear it anymore, turning his body back towards the recording.

The moment Beomgyu reached the top stair, Yeonjun was already standing tall and ready. He smiled at the younger, wisps of his hair falling damp on his forehead. He looked so spent and bright-eyed looking at Beomgyu that he couldn't help but feel a rush of affection, the recording of his song heavy in his pocket.

"Let's see your little problem, Mr. Choi."

Beomgyu sat on the far end of the dance studio, hands folded on his lap as he sat cross-legged, eyes focusing on every movement Yeonjun makes. Despite him claiming that he didn't connect to the song, Beomgyu can still see that every single movement had a purpose, telling him about the song, the desperation in the pre-chorus, and the sudden switch to an upbeat tone of the chorus being delivered smoothly. As he reached the bridge, that's when Beomgyu could tell what he meant when he said that it somehow didn't match. Yes, Beomgyu could feel the disconnect of the story, a stone blocking the flow of the road.

Yeonjun abruptly stopped dancing, turning his body to fully face Beomgyu. "What do you think?"

"You still dance beautifully," which earned a glare from Yeonjun, who was inviting Beomgyu for advice and criticism and not the usual praises. "But I can see what you mean, I can feel the disruption of the flow as if you tried to fit in one puzzle piece where it isn't supposed to be."

The crease between Yeonjun's eyes told Beomgyu that he had been thinking about this, and had already tried to fix it, but to no end.

"I don't get it, why is it so hard for me to do this part?" muttered Yeonjun in a low, out of breath voice, flopping down next to Beomgyu. They sit silently for a few minutes, needing the calmness and a moment to think.

And an idea struck Beomgyu, quickly scrambling to grab the recording from his pocket, holding it up for Yeonjun to see.

Yeonjun, who had his eyes closed, stared at the recording. "What is that? Another new song?" he asked, still tired.

"Yeah, remember when you came earlier asking for my help and I said to give me a minute to finish up a song? It's that one." Silently, Beomgyu prayed that Yeonjun would love the song, a song dedicated to him, about Beomgyu's feelings towards him. He hoped that he wasn't being obvious about it.

"Wait, really?" Yeonjun perked up, the energy back into his body. "You're telling me that not even Bang PD has heard of this? Wow, my privilege." He mused rather proudly, nodding his head, and Beomgyu pressed play.

The song floated through the damp room, and Beomgyu felt a sense of relief to let his creation to the world, having another pair of ears to listen to it. He could feel every drop of emotion, every confusion, every question unanswered, all mixed into one. The chorus is haunting, full of the desperation he felt when he pondered over the possibility that Yeonjun wouldn't see him the way he saw the elder. And Yeonjun heard it, too. His eyes were closed again, body swaying to the rhythm, losing himself in the moment.

He abruptly stood up, body functioning on auto-pilot, letting the sound of the music guide his feet, his movements. The dance he did told a different story. The answer to his question, the confirmation to his confusion, the emotion reflected and reciprocated, every single part of the song, all the doubt in it, Yeonjun poured out certainty in his movement, soft yet sharp.

The dance of their hearts, twined together by the string of the moment connecting their heart once and for all.

As the music faded away, Yeonjun slowed down his movements and ended up facing Beomgyu as the staccato disappeared completely. Their eyes met, and nothing had been clearer to them, the words on the tip of their tongue vanished as their eyes told them what they needed to know.

"That was," Beomgyu gulped, his tongue dry. "It's beautiful, hyung. That might be one of your best dances yet."

Yeonjun was full-on grinning, as bright as the afternoon sun reflected in the mirror. "And I don't think I have ever danced as freely as I just did. It felt good, letting go of any self-restraint and just... follow the flow of the music. I missed it, that feeling of dancing to your heart's content."

They looked everywhere but at each other, the adrenaline of the moment left their blood in a rush, leaving only the quiet realization behind, the weight of it thickening the air.

"So," Yeonjun started, walking back and forth to soothe his nerves. "That song, is that for me?"

Nothing prepared Beomgyu for such a straightforward question, resulting in him spluttering incoherent words that not even he understood.

"Gyu, my dear, I can't understand that language you're speaking." Teased Yeonjun, his usual defense mechanism deployed in such situations. It's not their fault that Yeonjun hated being in a serious situation, for it felt too much for him to bear, suffocating him until he can sense his head being trapped underwater.

Beomgyu took a deep breath, mentally bracing himself, his mind screaming at him to not be a coward. "Well, the song wasn't exactly meant for you, it's more of every emotion I have for you being poured out in it." He muttered; head bowed low. "I wasn't supposed to let you hear it; the embarrassment would be too much."

"The chorus, it sounds haunting as if whatever it is you feeling has been plaguing you."

"It has been for the past two weeks." Beomgyu didn't know where the boldness came from, but he was getting tired of keeping in the intense emotions, the cauldron filled to the brim and ready to spill out its content. "You know, if I think about it again, it has been accumulated from the day I was accepted to work here when I was introduced to the creative team. You were such a figure back then, hair dyed yellow-blond and swept to the side, proudly introducing yourself as the most reliable choreographer this company had." He chuckled at the memory, how Yeonjun had stuck out his hand to shake his own, eyes bright from welcoming another member for the creative team.

"Oh god, please do not remind me of the yellow-blond hair. I was way over my head, trying to prove to everyone that any hair color would suit me. Not my strongest moment, I admit."

"You dare say that you look ridiculous? I thought you were gorgeous, not afraid of standing out from others like a sore thumb. You were everything I'm not, confident and knowing your worth. I fell in love with you a little bit, then."

Yeonjun just stared at him, expression unreadable. His lips were sealed tight, and Beomgyu couldn't decipher anything out of him. But he was feeling reckless, so the words kept coming, a dam broke inside him.

"Since then, every moment with you brings me closer towards fully being in love with you. Every time we talked about how you would choreograph my song, or when Bang PD gave us opportunities to have a field trip wherever we wanted, the whole staff elated. How you always made time to make sure I was having a good time, not caring if I didn't even spare you a glance since I was too focused on my camera." Beomgyu fiddled with his sleeve, not sure about the next detail, but he said it anyway. "You never knew that I was grateful that someone was concerned about me, even if it's only a small portion, I spent days thinking about how I could repay you, how to make you know that what you did wasn't a gesture I cast away as you would a speck of dust."

"And what pushes me to the realization was the day I heard the music you were choreographing at 5 am, in my delirious state I decided to observe where the source came from, and I'm glad I did."

After a long pause, Yeonjun flicked his eyes upwards, finally showing what he had been thinking.

"What are you saying, Choi Beomgyu?" his voice was dangerously low, making Beomgyu gulped down the bile rising in his throat.

"I'm saying that I am, hopelessly, unconditionally, in love with you. And even now, I know that every day I'm spending with you would be another day of me falling for you deeper, slow as it may be, but I'm willing to carve out the time for it. Because I know you're worth it. You're worth everything, Choi Yeonjun."

As the confession hung in the air, they went silent, trying to grasp the situation. Beomgyu was reeling from the weight of what he had done, yet he didn't regret it. He didn't regret a single word he uttered because he had been waiting too long to let them out.

The only thing that he feared was the possible rejection, which, with the calculation of his pessimistic soul, would be equivalent to 90 percent.

"Do you know," Yeonjun started, somehow already standing right in front of Beomgyu. He was alarmed seeing the glossy sheen on Yeonjun's eyes, afraid that he somehow offended him. "How long have I been waiting to hear you say those words to me?"

Beomgyu stared at him, dumbfounded. "What? You... you're not rejecting me or something?"

"You fucking idiot, do you even know how much of a goner am I for you? Every day since breakfast at San's restaurant, I am always reminded of how incredible you are, dedicated and passionate, not caring about anything else whenever your brilliant mind comes up with songs that touch my heart. You," Yeonjun took a deep breath, tenderly holding Beomgyu's hand, stroking his palm delicately and tracing circles, moving up to his fingers. "plays the guitar with these fingers, and I admire how your whole body went alive with the flow of the music. You transformed into another being, untouchable by me."

Every small stroke of Yeonjun's fingers sent shivers, the gesture keeping him grounded but also sending him flying to the clouds.

"Even when you're not being possessed with the rush of being a musical genius, I would find my way to you. You ground me, keeping me tethered to normalcy because I know that I can be too much to handle sometimes. You didn't run away from every one of my schemes, and I think that's where I know that I couldn't possibly be with someone else." The intensity in Yeonjun's word startled Beomgyu, who was still in denial that THE Choi Yeonjun would be feeling the same way towards him, a meager human being surviving on the earth.

"Wait a minute... just wait a goddamn minute." Beomgyu was dizzy, from the feel of Yeonjun's fingers tracing his hand to the heavy confession that he wasn't expecting. Everything felt too much, too good to be real, he wanted to pinch himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming.

Is this just a fever dream? I don't want it to be, it felt amazing .

"I know that look well," said Yeonjun as he stood up, pulling Beomgyu with him. "You're definitely not dreaming, and I meant every word I said. I am irrevocably a goner for you, I am in love with you, god I can keep going on and on."

They stood facing each other, lips turning upward into a wide smile. What a day, Beomgyu thought, as the open blinds sent in the light from the sun, warming their body to match the warmth of their heart.

"Can I request something, though?" asked Beomgyu timidly, afraid of the response.

"Anything."

"Is it okay if we don't date yet? I do not know if I'm ready for that kind of commitment. I'm content with being in love with you and knowing you do too, for now."

The fondness in Yeonjun's gaze did not waver. "I'm okay with not labeling whatever we have, as long as you're comfortable. We'll do it at our own pace, okay?"

Beomgyu sighed in relief, the knot in his stomach unraveling, knowing that Yeonjun would wait for him, no matter what, he would always wait for him to be ready. Yeonjun pulled him close, putting his arms around Beomgyu's shoulder as he kissed Beomgyu's forehead, a gesture of reassurance.

"Now that you're liberated from the creative block, do you think you could perfect the choreography?" asked Beomgyu out of nowhere, earning a laugh from Yeonjun. Way to ruin the moment, he thought, but every moment with his Beomgyu is one to cherish, and he made sure to not let any second waste to nothing.

"The day is still early, my beloved." The unexpected nickname caught Beomgyu off-guard, the surprise must have been visible on his face. "I'm sorry, is that making you uncomfortable? If it is, I'm calling you something else."

"No, no. I like it actually, very old-school but sentimentally romantic."

Yeonjun smirks teasingly, bumping his shoulder to Beomgyu's. "Just like you."

"HEY! You're the older one here, you can't say that I have an old soul, I am merely a hopeless romantic."

"I have a significant other with a hopeless romantic heart," sighed Yeonjun, eyes dreamy. "Imagine all the dates we could go to."

"You may be the one responsible for our adventures, but I'm the one in charge of dates and romantic interludes. Your idea of romance is shallow."

"Not my fault that I easily fall in love with your charms and everything you do."

Despite everything, Beomgyu still blushed to hear the word love. He has decided that he will make Yeonjun say that to him more in the future.

"The feeling's mutual, darling." This time, Beomgyu grabbed Yeonjun's hand, interlocking their fingers together. "Where shall we go today?"

Yeonjun radiated energy brighter than the sun shining on them, every emotion visible on his face. It looked good on him, the glow and the excitement replacing the fatigue look he would otherwise have. It is Beomgyu's favorite look on Yeonjun, and he made it his mission to keep it that way.

"You lead the way this time, my beloved."