⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Beomgyu had been trying to work through his tangled emotions ever since his conversation with Yeonjun. He was still guarded, still afraid, but there was a growing part of him that wanted to open up, to let himself feel something more.

One night, after Yeonjun had gone out for a late meeting, Beomgyu found himself restless. He didn't want to sit in silence, alone with his thoughts. Instead, he picked up his phone and scrolled through his contacts. His thumb hovered over Kai's name.

Kai had always been warm and approachable, a safe haven of sorts. And after their recent conversation, where Beomgyu learned about Kai being asexual, he felt a sense of understanding he hadn't expected.

With a deep breath, Beomgyu tapped on Kai's name and called.

"Hey, Gyu!" Kai's voice was bright and cheerful. "What's up?"

"Are you busy?" Beomgyu asked hesitantly. "I was wondering if you wanted to hang out."

"Of course! I'll be there in twenty," Kai replied without hesitation.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Twenty minutes later, Kai showed up at Beomgyu's place, holding a bag of instant ramen and a stack of DVDs.

"I thought we could use some comfort food and entertainment," Kai said with a grin. "Have you ever seen Love Sea?"

Beomgyu raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that a BL drama? The one with the rivals-to-lovers thing?"

Kai nodded enthusiastically. "It's a masterpiece. Trust me, you'll love it."

They settled onto the couch, bowls of ramen steaming in their hands, as the first episode began to play. At first, Beomgyu was skeptical, but it didn't take long for him to get drawn into the story.

The drama was heartfelt and emotional, with just the right amount of tension and romance. Beomgyu found himself laughing at the witty banter between the leads and tearing up during the more emotional moments.

As the episodes went on, he began to relax in Kai's presence. There was no pressure, no expectations—just two people sharing a moment of peace in an otherwise chaotic world.

By the time they reached the finale, Beomgyu and Kai were sprawled out on the couch, leaning against each other for support. Their empty ramen bowls sat forgotten on the coffee table.

When the credits rolled, Beomgyu let out a contented sigh. "That was... actually really good."

"Told you," Kai said with a chuckle. "Rivals-to-lovers is a classic for a reason."

As they sat there in comfortable silence, Beomgyu felt a sense of warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time. It wasn't the overwhelming intensity he sometimes felt around Yeonjun—it was something quieter, gentler.

Without realizing it, Beomgyu drifted off to sleep, his head resting against Kai's shoulder. Kai didn't move, didn't stir. He simply adjusted the blanket over them both and leaned back, letting Beomgyu have his moment of peace.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Beomgyu felt safe.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

When Yeonjun returned home early the next morning, he found Beomgyu and Kai still curled up on the couch, the faint sound of the TV playing in the background.

His heart twinged at the sight. Beomgyu looked so serene, so unguarded. It was a side of him that Yeonjun rarely got to see.

But as much as Yeonjun was glad to see Beomgyu finding solace in Kai, a small part of him couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy.

Quietly, Yeonjun grabbed a blanket from the hall closet and draped it over the two of them before retreating to his room.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧

Beomgyu woke up to the soft light of morning streaming through the window. His head felt heavy, but there was a strange sense of calm that he couldn't quite place. Then he realized he was still on the couch, nestled against Kai.

The memory of the night before trickled back—ramen, laughter, Love Sea. He couldn't remember the last time he'd felt so at ease, so unburdened. Yet, the comfort of the moment was tinged with a gnawing sense of guilt.

Why can't I feel this way with Yeonjun?

The thought startled him. Beomgyu shifted carefully, trying not to wake Kai, as he sat up and stretched. His gaze wandered to his hands, the faint scars barely visible in the soft light.

It was as if those marks carried all his insecurities. The hatred he felt for his body, the fear of never being enough, the shame of his so-called femininity—everything he'd buried deep came rushing to the surface.

⛧°。 ⋆༺♱༻⋆。 °⛧