Chapter Text
The boutique smelled like citrus and fresh lilies, polished glass shelves glinting under the soft golden lights. Jisoo’s new perfume line was displayed like jewelry, each bottle perched on velvet stands. Guests milled about with champagne flutes and hors d’oeuvres, laughter floating through the air.
Near one display, a tall figure leaned slightly forward, shoulders squared, his suit perfectly pressed even though it was just a casual Saturday brunch. Kim Mingyu. His long fingers hovered over a row of testers with the same focus he gave to architectural blueprints. Even at a party, there was a precise rhythm to him — the way he straightened the cap before spraying, how his thumb pressed the nozzle evenly.
A softer voice drifted nearby, low and calm, as if reluctant to disturb the buzz of chatter. Jeon Wonwoo had wandered over with a small smile tugging at his lips, greeting Minghao before quietly excusing himself to the perfume display. He adjusted his glasses and reached for a tester.
At the same time Mingyu did.
Their fingers brushed.
Both froze for a second — Mingyu pulling back a fraction too quickly, Wonwoo blinking up at the familiar tall frame beside him.
“Oh—hello, Wonwoo.” Mingyu’s voice was low, polite, with that hint of formality he never seemed to shake.
Wonwoo gave a little bow of his head, smile soft but unsure. “Hi, Mingyu. Didn’t think I’d see you here.”
Before either could fumble for more words, Jisoo swooped in like a magician, holding a champagne flute in one hand and mischief in his grin.
“Perfect! You two picked my favorite one.”
He plucked the tester from between them with a flourish.
“This is our newest fragrance — Serendipity. Don’t you think it’s… symbolic?”
Mingyu cleared his throat. “It’s… a clean scent.” He replaced the cap neatly, lining the bottle back in its exact spot.
Wonwoo glanced at him, then back at Jisoo, murmuring, “It’s nice. Fresh. Easy to like.”
“See?” Jisoo beamed. “Already agreeing on things. This is promising.”
Both offered him polite smiles — Mingyu’s thin, Wonwoo’s awkward — before excusing themselves almost in unison.
Wonwoo turned too quickly and nearly knocked over the stand of perfume blotters. The little paper slips fanned dramatically onto the floor like fallen petals. Startled, he bent down to gather them, muttering, “Ah—sorry, sorry—”
Mingyu crouched instantly, collecting them in perfect stacks, edges aligned. His movements were efficient, practiced, while Wonwoo clumsily scooped them into a lopsided bundle. When their hands bumped again, Mingyu gave a small sigh, reorganizing the pile with swift fingers.
Wonwoo chuckled under his breath, sheepish. “You’re… very precise.”
“It’s just faster this way,” Mingyu said, but his tone wasn’t unkind.
Wonwoo’s laugh lingered as he straightened, almost bumping his shoulder into the edge of the display stand this time. He winced, adjusting himself, then waved off the incident like nothing happened. “Enjoy the party, Mingyu.”
Mingyu gave a polite nod, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve before returning to his group.
The party carried on around them — clinking glasses, soft jazz, perfume in the air — as though nothing had happened at all.
---
The night after Jisoo’s launch party, both houses were glowing in their own way—
Mingyu’s home filled with the soft clinking of cutlery and warm light, Wonwoo’s house with the smell of tea and faint jazz humming from the living room speaker.
---
At Mingyu’s home
His mother looked up from the table, smiling as Mingyu set his phone down.
“So, how was the party, Gyu-ah?”
Mingyu reached for his glass of water, perfectly composed as always. “It was fine. Jisoo-hyung’s launch was smooth. A little crowded, but nice.”
His dad raised a brow. “And?”
Mingyu hesitated, his lips twitching in amusement before he gave in. “Wonwoo, Seokmin’s brother … accidentally sprayed perfume right into his glasses.”
Both parents burst into laughter.
“Oh no!” his mom gasped. “Poor boy. And you helped him, right?”
Mingyu nodded like it was obvious. “Well I wanted to. But he was so embarrassed, he bolted immediately after. But it wasn’t the only accident that he caused.”
His mom leaned forward, grin mischievous. “Cute, isn’t he?”
“Mom.” Mingyu groaned, already sensing where this was going.
“Gyu,” his father chimed in, “you’re so perfect at work, in sports, even cooking. But no partner? Even Seokmin is married, Seungcheol settled, Minghao and Vernon too. What about you?”
“I’ve been busy,” Mingyu answered flatly.
“Busy avoiding dates,” his mom teased. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up marrying your company.”
“Not funny.” He crossed his arms, but the tips of his ears betrayed him, turning red.
“Alright then,” his dad said, eyes glinting. “We’ll set you up. Blind date.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then find one yourself.”
Mingyu stared. His parents waited. Finally, with a long sigh, he muttered, “Fine. One date. Just so you’ll stop.”
His mom beamed like she’d already won.
---
At Wonwoo’s home
The tea had just been poured when his mother asked, “So, Wonwoo-yah, did you enjoy the party?”
Wonwoo stirred his cup, lips pressing into a line. “It was nice. Until I nearly knocked over an entire perfume blotter. Mingyu helped me, before I could make more mess.”
His father chuckled, shaking his head. “Still clumsy after all these years.”
“Dad,” Wonwoo grumbled, cheeks pink.
His mother leaned her chin on her hand, smiling slyly. “Mingyu helped, hmm? He’s a good one. Polite, handsome, hardworking…”
“Mom.”
“What?” She laughed. “Even your brother is more settled than you. And you? Still hiding in books.”
“Books don’t disappoint,” Wonwoo muttered, sipping his tea.
His father gave him a pointed look. “Which is why we’re setting you up. Blind date.”
Wonwoo nearly choked. “Excuse me?”
“Come on, Wonwoo,” his mom coaxed.
“You’re not getting any younger. It’s just one brunch. What’s the worst that could happen?”
“The worst,” Wonwoo said dryly, “is exactly why I don’t date.”
His father smirked. “Then consider it research. Character study.”
Wonwoo groaned, but finally gave in with a tired laugh. “Fine. Just once. Then you can never bring it up again.”
His parents shared a satisfied smile.
---
Of course, the news didn’t stay at the dinner tables.
When Mingyu mentioned it in their group chat, Seokmin spammed stickers.
> Seokmin: “BLIND DATE?? Our Mingyu?? Finally!!!”
Jeonghan: “Please tell me you’re actually going. I need this entertainment.”
Vernon: “Gyu-hyung’s first date will be legendary.”
Chan: “please take pictures, it's going in history book.”
Mingyu dropped his phone face down, muttering, “Why do I tell you people anything?”
Meanwhile, across the city, Wonwoo wasn’t safe either.
“So… blind date, huh?” Soonyoung’s grin was way too wide on the video call.
“It’s nothing,” Wonwoo defended. “Just to make my parents happy.”
“Hyung,” Seungkwan sang dramatically, “ Our Wonwoo finally on a date. Jihoon hyung, write this down.”
“I’m not writing that down,” Jihoon muttered from the background.
Jun only smiled knowingly. “I have a feeling this will be… interesting.”
Wonwoo sighed, pushing his glasses up. “You’re all enjoying this too much.”
And though both Mingyu and Wonwoo tried to act unbothered, the quiet flutter in their chests betrayed them.
---
Saturday morning dawned crisp and bright, the city slowly stretching into motion.
Mingyu was already awake, shirt pressed and laid out the night before. He buttoned it with meticulous care, aligning each one perfectly. His watch polished, shoes gleaming. He checked his reflection a final time, satisfied.
His mother peeked in, leaning against the doorframe.
“You’re going to brunch, not a board meeting.”
“First impressions matter,” Mingyu replied simply, straightening his cufflinks.
His dad chuckled from down the hall.
“Don’t scare them off with how perfect you look, son.”
Mingyu only gave a small hum, but his lips quirked faintly.
---
Across town, Wonwoo was also preparing, though in his own quieter way.
He chose a pale blue shirt and dark slacks, neat and semi-formal. He smoothed the fabric carefully, making sure there were no creases.
While adjusting his glasses in the mirror, he almost dropped the case, fumbling before catching it against his chest. He exhaled, chuckling softly at himself.
From the living room, his mom called,
“Don’t trip before you even get there, Wonwoo-yah!”
“Mom,” he groaned, but there was no hiding the small smile tugging at his lips as he grabbed his keys.
---
Mingyu drove with quiet precision, hands steady on the wheel, the car smooth as if gliding on rails. His thoughts were orderly:
'It’s just brunch. Be polite, be done.'
Wonwoo’s drive was calmer than expected—no rushing, no chaos—yet his nerves betrayed him. At one red light, he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, muttering,
“Why does this feel like an interview?”
---
Mingyu was already stepping into the glass elevator when a voice called,
“Hold, please!”
He instinctively pressed the button, holding the doors. Wonwoo slipped inside, a little hurried but still composed—until his bag brushed the doorframe, almost catching. He quickly pulled it through with a nervous laugh.
“Oh—thanks,” Wonwoo said, adjusting his glasses. His eyes widened.
“Oh! Mingyu, hello.”
Mingyu blinked, surprised. “Wonwoo. Hi.”
The elevator hummed upward. Silence stretched, filled only by soft background music. Mingyu stood tall, hands clasped neatly. Wonwoo tried to look relaxed, but the strap of his bag kept slipping from his shoulder.
When he went to adjust it, his phone slid from his pocket. Both bent instinctively—foreheads almost colliding. Mingyu caught the phone first, holding it out.
“…Careful,” Mingyu said, his tone even, but his chest tightening with a familiar mini heart attack.
Wonwoo offered a sheepish smile.
“Thanks. Again.”
The bell chimed, doors opening. They both stepped out.
“Goodbye, Mingyu,” Wonwoo said politely, giving a small wave.
“Mm. Goodbye,” Mingyu replied with a nod before striding away.
---
The host greeted them warmly. “This way, please.”
Mingyu followed, confident steps leading him toward the reserved cabins. Wonwoo trailed another server—until both stopped at the very same one.
The host gestured inside with a flourish. “Your reservation, sirs.”
Mingyu froze. “…Wait.”
Wonwoo blinked. “…You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Inside, the small private cabin gleamed, sunlight spilling through wide windows over a city view.
For a beat, neither moved. Mingyu’s brows furrowed. Wonwoo rubbed the back of his neck, half-embarrassed, half-amused.
Mingyu muttered under his breath, “My heart…”
“…Well,” Wonwoo said softly, adjusting his glasses, “this is… unexpected.”
---
The restaurant was cozy, golden sunlight streaming in through tall windows. Mingyu pulled out a chair for Wonwoo, the gesture smooth and automatic, while Wonwoo blinked at him like he wasn’t used to that kind of formality.
“Thank you,” Wonwoo said, sitting down and brushing his bangs out of his eyes.
Mingyu took his seat opposite him, folding his hands neatly on the table like they were in some board meeting. “So…” He cleared his throat. “Should we introduce ourselves properly? I mean—formally.”
Wonwoo chuckled, his laugh soft but genuine. “We’ve known of each other for years, technically. But sure. Jeon Wonwoo,” he said, holding out his hand across the table as if this were their first real meeting.
Mingyu’s lips quirked, and he shook it. “Kim Mingyu. Again.” His hand was warm, steady, and when Wonwoo pulled away too quickly, Mingyu frowned, filing that away.
The waiter handed them menus. Wonwoo scanned his, lips pursing. “Honestly,” he admitted, “I love food, but I can’t eat much in one go. Would you mind ordering for us?”
That caught Mingyu off guard—he sat up straighter, eyes narrowing in concentration.
“Really? Okay, but do you have any allergies?”
“No seafood,” Wonwoo replied simply.
Mingyu nodded with the gravity of someone being entrusted with a national secret. His brows furrowed as he studied the menu like it was a set of architectural blueprints. Wonwoo snorted into his water glass.
“Relax, it’s just brunch,” Wonwoo teased.
“Food should be perfect too,” Mingyu muttered, not looking up.
---
While waiting for the dishes, they both reached for their glasses at the same time, nearly knocking them together. They shared a small, sheepish smile before retreating.
Wonwoo was the first to break the silence. “So… you’re still with architecture, right?”
Mingyu nodded. “Yeah. I handle design projects mostly. Houses, commercial spaces… sometimes renovations. I like creating spaces people actually live in. Feels more real than just drawing on paper.”
Wonwoo tilted his head. “That sounds… fulfilling.”
Mingyu chuckled softly. “Most of the time. Except when clients decide at the last second they hate windows.”
Wonwoo laughed, a short but genuine sound. “I can imagine.” He stirred his water absentmindedly. “I… run a few libraries now.”
“Libraries?” Mingyu leaned in, curious. “How did that start?”
Wonwoo’s eyes softened. “When I was younger, I spent more time with books, as you know my family owns a publication house. Quiet places made sense to me. But I didn’t want to stop at just reading. I thought, maybe I can make spaces where people like me feel… at home.” He gave a small shrug. “So I started with one library. Then it grew.”
Mingyu listened carefully, chin resting on his hand. “That’s… actually really cool. Not many people think of libraries as something to own. It’s usually just a city thing.”
“I get that a lot,” Wonwoo said with a wry smile. “But it works. People come in for the books, and stay for the quiet. Or the coffee.”
“Do you read everything in there yourself?” Mingyu teased lightly.
“Not everything,” Wonwoo replied, lips twitching. “But most of the fantasy section.”
Mingyu let out a soft laugh, then after a pause said, “You must know Jihoon then. He always complains about you disappearing with piles of books.”
“Guilty,” Wonwoo admitted, smiling. “And Seungkwan drops by sometimes too. He’s loud enough to scare the silence away.”
Mingyu grinned at that. “He hasn’t changed. Vernon still follows him everywhere. It’s like a comedy duo.”
Wonwoo nodded, looking down at the table but clearly amused. “Your side of the group isn’t quiet either. I saw Jeonghan hyung last week—he’s still dramatic.”
Mingyu groaned. “He and Seungcheol hyung together? That’s like a sitcom.”
Every time Wonwoo gestured, his elbow came dangerously close to the water glass. Mingyu’s hand twitched as if ready to leap across the table and save it.
'Mini heart attack, number two,' Mingyu thought grimly.
The two fell into an easy silence, not uncomfortable—just letting the words hang. Wonwoo reached for his glass again, careful this time, and Mingyu found himself watching him.
He doesn’t talk much, but… it doesn’t feel heavy. It’s easy.
---
When the food arrived, Mingyu took charge again—cutting portions, serving Wonwoo first, everything neat and balanced.
Wonwoo took a bite, then hummed quietly, eyes fluttering shut.
Mingyu froze. That sound. That expression. His chest tightened unexpectedly. 'His voice… it’s calming. And he looks so…' Mingyu swallowed. 'I want to see more of that. Feed him more.'
Wonwoo was mid-bite when he blurted, “Why didn’t we meet before?”
The words hung in the air like confetti. His eyes went wide, and he slapped a hand over his mouth. “Oh no. I—I didn’t mean—sorry. That just slipped out.”
Mingyu’s lips parted, then curved into a laugh, low and genuine. Wonwoo turned pink, looking anywhere but at him.
---
Over coffee, Mingyu leaned in slightly, still amused. “If you like this place, you should try my family’s restaurant. It’s by the sea… about three hours away.”
Wonwoo blinked at the sudden suggestion. Then, after a beat, smiled softly. “I’d like that.”
Mingyu nodded quickly, too quickly.'Why did I say that so fast? And why does the idea of him there already make me… excited?'
---
The bill came. Mingyu reached instinctively, but a hand caught his. Wonwoo’s fingers wrapped lightly around his wrist.
“I’ll pay,” Wonwoo said firmly. “You’re already treating me in your restaurant soon.”
The touch lingered. Mingyu froze. Wonwoo’s hand was… cold. Shockingly cold.
'His hand… it’s freezing. Why? Is he sick? And yet—why does the chill burn against my skin?'
Mingyu’s heartbeat spiked, his usual precision scattered.'Pull it together. It’s just contact. Normal contact.'
Wonwoo, oblivious to the storm he caused, smiled as he handed the card to the waiter. Mingyu sat back, trying to breathe like a normal human being.
---
Outside, the air was crisp. They walked side by side, the silence now comfortable.
“That was nicer than I expected,” Wonwoo said casually.
Mingyu arched a brow. “You make it sound like you were dreading it.”
“Maybe I was,” Wonwoo teased, tilting his head. “But I’m glad I came.”
Mingyu smiled faintly, unable to hide it. 'So am I.'
Wonwoo stopped, then hesitated before pulling out his phone.
“We should… exchange numbers, right? In case of… scheduling conflicts.”
Mingyu bit back a grin, his chest doing an odd little flip. They exchanged phones, tapping in digits, the glow of their screens reflecting in their eyes.
As they parted ways, Mingyu glanced at his phone, Wonwoo’s name sitting in his contacts. For some reason, it made the world feel just a little brighter.
---
Mingyu leaned back in Jeonghan’s office chair, tie slightly loosened, scrolling through his phone. His thumb hovered before finally typing:
Mingyu → Wonwoo:
Did you get home safely?
He bit his lip, waiting, staring at the three dots that appeared…and disappeared…and appeared again.
Wonwoo:
I’m at the main office. Had some pending work, so I came straight here.
Mingyu → Wonwoo : “Ohk. Where’s your office, by the way?”
A minute later, Wonwoo replied.
Wonwoo : “Downtown, near the library branch. And you? Reached home?”
Mingyu smirked faintly before answering.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Not yet. I’m in Jeonghan’s office. Seungcheol’s here too.”
There was a pause in their little back-and-forth. Mingyu stared at his screen, hesitant, then finally typed:
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “By the way…about your cold hands earlier. Are you okay?”
Seconds later, his phone pinged—not with text, but with a short video. Wonwoo’s slender hands appeared, faint tremors visible as he tried to hold them steady against his desk. His voice, low but matter-of-fact, came through the recording:
> “It’s nothing serious. I’ve had tremors since I was young, mostly when I’m tired or stressed. They’re just…cold all the time. No big deal.”
Mingyu sat up straighter, heart tightening. He quickly typed:
Mingyu → Wonwoo: "Wonwoo…you don’t have to brush it off. Thanks for telling me. If it ever gets uncomfortable, please tell me first. I’ll adjust anything we need—pace, utensils, cups, whatever helps."
Wonwoo:
"You’re very considerate. Sorry, I should get back to work. Ttyl :)"
+ three cat stickers in different poses—one waving, one sleeping, one hiding under a blanket.
Mingyu chuckled under his breath, screen glowing in the dark office. His chest felt strangely warm.
---
[Meanwhile…]
From the other end of Jeonghan’s glass-walled office, Jeonghan nudges Seungcheol and points. Mingyu is sitting on the sofa, shoulders relaxed, eyes soft in a way neither of them has seen at work.
Click.
Jeonghan snaps a photo and sends it to the friends’ group chat with a cascade of heart emojis.
> Jeonghan: ✨😍💖 LOOK AT OUR BOY
Minghao: is he… smiling??
Vernon: save this to the archives
Chan: hyung is glowing omg
Seokmin: TELL ME EVERYTHING
Mingyu’s phone vibrates like it’s possessed. He opens the group chat and—oh no. It’s his face. His giddy face, captured forever, stared back at him surrounded by an explosion of emojis.
“Jeonghan!!” Mingyu growled.
“What? You look cute,” Jeonghan said sweetly, tucking his phone away like a trophy.
Seungcheol leaned on his elbow. “So? Who’s the lucky one?”
Mingyu hesitated, then finally answered, “...It’s Wonwoo.”
He expected squeals, shock, something. But instead—silence. Then identical fake coughs.
Jeonghan blinked innocently. “Oh? Wonwoo, huh. What a…coincidence.”
Mingyu narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Why do you sound like you already knew?”
Seungcheol’s smirk gave him away instantly.
“You…you all planned this, didn’t you?”
Mingyu’s jaw dropped. “Don’t tell me—my parents too?!”
Jeonghan’s grin was infuriating. “Your parents, his parents, us…team effort, sweetheart.”
Mingyu buried his face in his hands. “Unbelievable.”
“Unbelievably effective,” Seungcheol corrected. “Now stop sulking. You’re welcome.”
---
[Cut to Wonwoo’s side]
In Soonyoung and Jihoon’s apartment, the table was set with takeout boxes and bowls of rice. Wonwoo slipped off his coat, cleared his throat, and finally said it:
“My date was… Mingyu.”
The room froze for a dramatic beat before Seungkwan gasped loudly, hand over his mouth. Jun mirrored him with wide eyes.
“No way,” Seungkwan said.
“Impossible,” Jun added.
Soonyoung clutched his chest. “Kim Mingyu? Tall, perfectionist Mingyu?”
Wonwoo blinked at their theatrics. “...You knew.”
The three exchanged guilty glances.
Jihoon finally sighed, pushing his glasses up. “Yes. Everyone knew. Except you.”
Wonwoo’s chopsticks clattered. “What?!”
Soonyoung grinned sheepishly. “We may or may not have…encouraged your parents to push the idea.”
Jun added between bites, “It’s called a strategic operation.”
“Strategic operation?!” Wonwoo repeated, exasperated.
Seungkwan leaned in, teasing. “Okay, but admit it—you didn’t hate it. In fact…”
He pointed a chopstick accusingly. “You looked a little too happy when you said his name.”
Wonwoo turned red, stuffing rice in his mouth to avoid answering. Laughter erupted around the table.
---
[Parallel: Families]
That same night, both households sat in their respective living rooms, exchanging calls.
Wonwoo’s mom with a smirk: “So, how was it?”
Mingyu’s dad, chuckling on the other end:
“Our Gyu won’t admit anything yet, but I can tell. He’s hooked.”
When asked directly, Mingyu simply muttered,
“It was…nice.” Wonwoo, across town, answered similarly: “...Comfortable.”
Their parents exchanged knowing glances. Siblings stifled giggles. The matchmaking plan had worked perfectly.
---
The next few days unfolded quietly, like a slow drip of something sweet. Neither Mingyu nor Wonwoo were the type to flood each other with texts, but somehow, the short exchanges they did have felt like tiny treasures tucked into their day.
It began the next morning.
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Good morning. Did you eat breakfast?”
Mingyu had just poured his coffee when he read the message, a grin tugging at his lips.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Yes. Omelet. You?”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Cereal. Accidentally dropped half of it on the counter.”
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “…How do you even manage that?”
Wonwoo sent a picture of the spilled cereal, complete with a dramatic caption: “crime scene.” Mingyu almost choked on his coffee, shaking his head. His heart beat faster than it should over such a simple thing.
---
By Tuesday, they’d fallen into a rhythm—short texts, always spaced apart, never overwhelming. Still, Mingyu found himself waiting for his phone to light up.
That evening, they met for a quick coffee. Wonwoo arrived in a neat blazer, looking composed until he tripped over the café’s doorstep. He caught himself just in time, but Mingyu visibly flinched, hand half-reaching before Wonwoo straightened with a sheepish laugh.
“Not a word,” Wonwoo muttered, cheeks pink.
“I didn’t say anything,” Mingyu replied too quickly, but his expression betrayed him—wide-eyed, like he’d just witnessed a near heart attack.
Inside, their conversation was light. Mingyu talked about a design pitch that had been approved; Wonwoo shared how a group of students had spent hours in his library reading manga together, and how he quietly joined in. The silence between topics wasn’t awkward—it was…comfortable, like sitting with someone you’d known much longer than a few days.
When Wonwoo sipped his latte, foam stuck to the corner of his lips. Mingyu noticed instantly, throat tightening. He forced himself to look away, until Wonwoo licked it off absentmindedly. Mingyu’s ears burned, and he nearly spilled his own drink.
---
By Wednesday night, they were exchanging short updates.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Still at the office. Long day.”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Same. Fell asleep at my desk for ten minutes.”
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “That’s dangerous.”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Woke up because my pen rolled off and startled me.”
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “…You’re going to give me gray hairs.”
Wonwoo sent back a sticker of a cartoon cat wrapped in a blanket, holding a “sorry” sign. Mingyu laughed so hard Seungcheol gave him a suspicious look.
---
Thursday brought another short meet-up. They didn’t plan it—it just happened. Mingyu had dropped by a bakery for bread when he spotted Wonwoo outside, balancing a bag of books against his chest while fumbling with his car keys. One slip and the bag tilted; Mingyu darted forward, steadying the books before they could scatter.
Wonwoo exhaled in relief. “Thanks. I swear, objects have a grudge against me.”
Mingyu chuckled, shaking his head. “No, you’re just…accident-prone.”
“Clumsy,” Wonwoo corrected with a small smile.
“Deadly,” Mingyu muttered under his breath, recalling all the near-misses that had already shaved years off his life.
They shared a quick coffee at the bakery’s corner table. Wonwoo nibbled at a croissant, offering Mingyu half without thinking. Mingyu froze for a second before accepting, his chest unreasonably warm at the simple gesture.
---
By Friday, their chats had stretched a little longer. Still not paragraphs—never that—but just enough to feel like they were weaving into each other’s day.
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Your restaurant’s by the sea, right? Excited to see it.”
Mingyu smiled at his phone, leaning back in his chair.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Excited to take you there. You’ll like the view.”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “The food better be good.”
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Careful, you’re talking to the owner.”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “…Pressure’s on then.”
Wonwoo followed the text with another sticker: a cat peeking nervously from behind a wall. Mingyu nearly laughed out loud in the middle of his office.
---
By Saturday morning, the anticipation hung between them like static. They had already agreed on dinner, but it still felt surreal. Mingyu texted first.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Pick you up at 4?”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “Perfect. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “Don’t trip on the way there.”
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “No promises.” + laughing emoji.
Mingyu shook his head, grinning despite himself. His phone buzzed again.
Wonwoo → Mingyu: “See you soon.”
Mingyu’s chest tightened, warmth pooling in his stomach. He typed back slowly, deliberately.
Mingyu → Wonwoo: “See you.”
---
Mingyu pulled up in front of Wonwoo’s building right on time. He straightened his jacket, checked the rearview mirror twice, and told himself not to overthink. Still, his heartbeat quickened the second he saw Wonwoo through the glass lobby doors, chatting with a younger man in office attire.
Wonwoo’s face brightened the moment he spotted Mingyu. He waved eagerly—too eagerly—before tripping over his own foot.
“Wonwoo—!” Mingyu instinctively rushed forward, but the assistant beside him caught him first, steadying him by the waist.
Mingyu stopped short, relief flooding him—then irritation. His eyes lingered a beat too long on the assistant’s hand at Wonwoo’s side. He walked up briskly, took both of Wonwoo’s hands into his own, and guided him gently toward his side.
“You okay?” Mingyu asked, voice tighter than he intended. He scanned Wonwoo’s face like he was checking for bruises.
Wonwoo chuckled, embarrassed. “I’m fine. Just… gravity and I don’t get along.”
The assistant blinked between them, unsure of what to do. On cue, Wonwoo introduced him. “This is my assistant, Yunho. He helps with the libraries.” Then, turning to the younger man with a teasing smile, he added, “It’s the weekend. Go spend some time with your girlfriend before she dumps you.”
The assistant flushed red, muttered a hasty goodbye, and hurried off.
Mingyu felt relief seep into his chest, though his mind was already scolding him. 'Why am I reacting like this? It’s nothing. Just his assistant.' Still, the phantom of that hand on Wonwoo’s waist bothered him more than he wanted to admit.
“Shall we go?” Wonwoo tilted his head toward the exit.
Mingyu nodded quickly, escorting him out like he was escorting royalty.
---
The drive began with easy chatter—Wonwoo asking about the route, Mingyu pointing out landmarks as they left the city lights behind. But somewhere past the quiet stretch of highway, Wonwoo’s answers began to fade. His head bobbed once, twice, and finally rested against the window, eyes fluttering shut.
Mingyu glanced over. His chest squeezed.
'He fell asleep just like that…'
Wonwoo’s lips parted slightly, a soft sigh leaving him as his body relaxed. A strand of hair fell across his forehead, and Mingyu had to grip the steering wheel tighter to resist the urge to brush it away.
'How can someone look this…' Mingyu shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips despite himself.'Cute. He’s just… cute.'
He drove the rest of the way in silence, sneaking glances at the man sleeping soundly beside him. By the time they reached the seaside restaurant, the sky had deepened into violet dusk. Still, Wonwoo slept on. Mingyu parked, leaned back, and watched him for a few indulgent seconds longer.
Finally, he sighed, checked the time, and reached over. “Wonwoo… we’re here.”
Wonwoo startled awake, jerking upright—straight into Mingyu’s forehead.
“Ow—!”
Wonwoo winced, rubbing his head immediately. “Ah, I’m so sorry! Did I—?”
But Mingyu was already leaning forward, gently cupping the back of Wonwoo’s head with one large hand, rubbing soothing circles with his thumb. “Careful,” he murmured, worry lacing his tone.
The realization hit them at the same time—Mingyu’s hand, Wonwoo’s warmth under his palm. They both pulled back hastily, faces flushing in the dim light.
“I… I’m sorry for falling asleep,” Wonwoo said, looking anywhere but at him.
Mingyu shook his head quickly, exhaling through his nose. “It’s fine. Just… be careful, okay?”
Wonwoo nodded sheepishly.
---
Inside, the restaurant glowed softly, warm light bouncing off polished wood and glass. The sea stretched endlessly beyond the wide windows, waves catching silver glints from the rising moon.
Wonwoo took it in with quiet awe, but when the menus were placed before them, he looked at Mingyu expectantly. “You order. I trust you.”
Mingyu arched a brow. “You really trust me that much?”
“Unless you’re planning to poison me,” Wonwoo deadpanned, though his lips quirked.
Mingyu huffed a laugh. “No seafood. Got it.” He placed their order confidently, then leaned across the table. “Twenty minutes. Don’t run away.”
Wonwoo smirked faintly, resting his chin on his hand. “I’ll think about it.”
Mingyu disappeared for a short while, returning just as the starters arrived. Their conversation flowed easily—snippets about work, a ridiculous story Mingyu shared about Jeonghan insisting plants grew better if you "serenaded" them, Wonwoo countering with Seungkwan’s obsession with karaoke. Their laughter mingled with the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of the ocean outside.
When the main course arrived, the chef himself appeared, introducing each dish with practiced pride. He lingered on one plate. “And this one,” he said, “was specially prepared for tonight.”
After the staff left, Wonwoo took the first bite. His eyes widened, the flavors clearly lighting up his senses. He set his fork down slowly, staring at the dish like it was sorcery. “This… is incredible.”
Mingyu didn’t touch his own plate. He only watched, smiling faintly as Wonwoo’s expressions shifted with every bite.
'He looks… happy. I want to see that again. Again and again.'
When the dessert plates were cleared, Wonwoo asked, “Can you call the chef? I need to thank them for this dish.”
The waiter hesitated, then gestured toward Mingyu. “He’s the chef tonight. The entire menu was curated by him.”
Wonwoo froze. Slowly, he turned to Mingyu, whose ears had turned scarlet.
“You… cooked all this?”
Mingyu rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly awkward. “Well not all,...I just wanted… to make sure you enjoyed it.”
Wonwoo’s lips curved upward, his eyes sparkling like they held stars. “Mingyu, this is… amazing. You’re amazing.”
Mingyu’s heart stuttered, words tangling in his throat. 'Stop looking at me like that. I can’t—'
He dropped his gaze to his plate, hiding the faint tremor in his hands.
---
Later, they walked along the shoreline, side by side. The waves lapped at the sand, the moon spilling light across the water. Neither spoke at first—it wasn’t silence that needed filling.
Finally, Wonwoo broke it. “Rapid fire question. Important one.”
Mingyu glanced down, lips twitching. “Shoot.”
“Why do you want to get married?”
Mingyu inhaled slowly. “Because… I want a partner to share my life with. Simple as that.”
Wonwoo blinked at him, a small smile playing at his lips. He looked away, resuming his slow steps.
But Mingyu wasn’t done. “I think I passed your test. But to explain more—I don’t want to get married just because it’s a box to check. I waited this long because I wanted to give it my all. I know life isn’t a fantasy. But I still believe in trying my best… for that one person.”
He turned his head. Under the moonlight, Wonwoo’s eyes glistened with unshed tears, his smile soft and radiant.
“Wow,” Wonwoo whispered, not meeting his gaze. “You’re more than any fantasy book could offer.” He let out a small, breathless laugh.
Mingyu’s chest tightened. The man beside him was glowing in a way no moonlight could explain.
“Wonwoo,” Mingyu said quietly, “what’s marriage to you?”
Wonwoo fidgeted with his fingers, his eyes fixed on the glittering sea. “Hmmm, a happy marriage, to me, is like a home. A cozy, warm home, where I’d want to return to, even after visiting the most magically beautiful places.” He turned then, meeting Mingyu’s gaze head-on.
Mingyu swallowed hard, the words leaving him before he could stop them. “Wonwoo, will you marry me?”
Wonwoo’s eyes widened, then crinkled with a laugh that rang free and bright. “Kim Mingyu, if this is a dream, don’t you dare wake me up.”
He stepped closer, placing his hands on Mingyu’s shoulders, and tiptoed to reach him. Their lips brushed—soft, tentative, trembling—and lingered just long enough to seal the promise.
When they pulled apart, both were laughing, faces pressed close, foreheads nearly touching. The ocean roared in the distance, the moon watched quietly, and under its silver glow, they held onto each other—two men stumbling into something both terrifying and extraordinary.
“Yes,” Wonwoo whispered, smiling through the tears in his eyes.
Mingyu only tightened his arms around him, his own smile unguarded and boyish.
The sea stretched endless before them, but in that moment, their world was only this—warmth, laughter, and the beginning of home.
---