˙ . ꒷ 🍧 . 𖦹˙-

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

── .✦ 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒-

彡 Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Bestfriends to Enemies to Fuckbuddies to lovers.
彡 Ship: Beomjun. Top Beom! Bottom Jun!

―˚ᝰ.ᐟ Two ex-best friends turned enemies now share nights tangled in sheets, no strings attached- or so Beomgyu claims. But as he keeps Yeonjun hooked, his own heart betrays him, rekindling feelings he swore were dead. Between quiet mornings and cruel games, he must choose: keep breaking Yeonjun... or admit he's the one falling again.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

They say the past only haunts you if you let it.

I thought I buried mine years ago.
Leaving that small, suffocating town.
Shedding my skin and everything it clung to. Every memory, every feeling, every person.

Especially him.

Seoul was my goal from the moment I watched him leave me behind for it.
That stupid dream he chose over me. That glittering future he said he couldn't have without me, only to prove he could.

I swore I'd beat him at his own game.

So I did.

Four years at university, nights spent at desks instead of parties, grinding harder than anyone, smiling through everything.
Every step closer was another chain breaking.

And now here I am.

My first day at one of the most prestigious companies in the city.
My name on a shiny little badge. My suit crisp. My heart steady.

I'm not that boy anymore.
I've won.

"Good luck at your first day, Choi Beomgyu!"

Or so I thought.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Beomgyu shut the log on his phone, slipping it back into his pocket. The elevator dinged open on the 15th floor.

He smoothened his tie, lifted his chin, and stepped out into his new life. A new life, a new Beomgyu, with no strings attached with his past.

The office was bright, buzzing. Coworkers chattered and rushed past, a daily occurance he'll be part of soon. He caught his own reflection in the glass of a meeting room door- sharp cheekbones, calm eyes, and a smug smile.

This is his moment.

"Beomgyu-ssi? Our team leader would like to meet you before you get settled."

The sudden voice pulled him out of his thoughts, as he turned, fixing his practiced polite smile.

"Of course."
Perfect. He smiled, not too wide, not too shallow, he was going to do this.

They lead him down a long hallway. His shoes clicked against the polished tile, head held high. He felt untouchable.

Until the door swung open and he saw him, and everything stopped, including his heart.

Choi Yeonjun.

Standing at the head of the table. Perfect suit. Perfect smile. The same goddamn face Beomgyu used to dream about every night and curse every morning.

"Welcome to the team," Yeonjun said smoothly, extending his hand.

His voice hasn't changed.
Beomgyu stared at him for half a second too long before controlling his emotions and schooling his emotions, finally taking the hand streched to him.

"Thank you...Team Leader Choi."
But his grip was just a little tighter than it needed to be, and so was his smile.

Inside his chest, a familiar fire roared back to life.

"So this is how you wanna do it huh, Choi Yeonjun? I'm so glad you're still the same. It'll be fun, breaking you the same way you broke me."

He hasn't won. Not yet. Not until Choi Yeonjun finally learns what it feels like, to want and to lose.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The day was long. Too long.

Beomgyu kept his head down through most of it- meeting new faces, smiling politely, pretending his blood didn't freeze every time Yeonjun's voice cut across the office.

"Beomgyu-ssi, make sure to copy me on that email."
"Beomgyu-ssi, we'll need a draft of that report by tomorrow."

Every word of it sounded professional to anyone else. But Beomgyu heard the undertone. Felt the weight of those dark eyes lingering just a second too long, because he knew. Or he once knew. Choi Yeonjun. Like the back of his hand.

And it made him sick.

Not because he cared, of course.
Because Yeonjun still thought he could look at him like that, with that calm, perfect face, like nothing had ever happened.

Like he hadn't once left Beomgyu to rot in that tiny town with nothing but memories of his stupid empty promises, of memories which haunted Beomgyu every single night, until he buried them deep in some corner of his heart, left to rot and decay, so he could move on.

But fate was a cruel piece of work.

"It's okay Beomgyu. Take it as a chance, make him feel how he made you feel. Ugly and desperate."

The day crawled by, and so did his will to take revenge.

By the time five o'clock rolled around, he'd nearly forgotten about Yeonjun, too busy getting familiar with new things and work materials, until-

"Great work today, everyone," Yeonjun said as the team gathered by the elevators. "Don't forget we have dinner at 7 to welcome Beomgyu-ssi properly. Don't be late."

Beomgyu's jaw tightened, but his smile didn't slip.
"Thankyou, team leader Choi."

7:46 PM

The restaurant was loud and warm, the smell of grilled meat and soju hanging thick in the air.

Someone shoved another shot into Beomgyu's hand and he downed it without thinking.

One hour in, and he'd already lost count.
Not of the drinks, but of how many times Yeonjun looked at him.

Across the table.
Over the rim of his glass.
Down the bridge of his nose when he thought Beomgyu wasn't watching.

But Beomgyu was watching.

And he was tired of pretending.

By the time the others stumbled outside for cigarettes and fresh air, Beomgyu stayed behind slouched in his seat, glass still in hand.

Yeonjun lingered at the end of the table, loosening his tie, looking like he might say something. But Beomgyu beat him to it.

"Why do you keep staring at me?" he slurred, head tilted lazily.
The whole table had emptied, leaving just the two of them, finally.

Yeonjun froze.
"You've had a lot to drink. Maybe you should-"

"Answer the question, hyung." Beomgyu's laugh was sharp, bitter. He leaned forward on his elbows, dark eyes glittering under the warm lights.

"Bet you were happy to see me today. I noticed," he chuckled softly and continued, "Had fun watching me all day?"

"Beomgyu I-"

"Like you didn't already have your fun leaving me behind once. Was it nice, hyung? Breaking our promise?" Beomgyu's eyes were closing, as he rested his cheeks on his palm, looking at Yeonjun with a look of betrayal and perhaps...longing?

Yeonjun's jaw tightened.
"That's not-"

"Not what?" Beomgyu cut him off, voice dropping, low and hateful now.
"Not the truth? Or just not convenient for you to admit?"

Yeonjun's breath hitched, just enough for Beomgyu to see it, and it lit something wicked in him.

"I waited for you," Beomgyu whispered, leaning closer to Yeonjun over the table.
"And now you're the one waiting for me. Isn't that right?"

Yeonjun didn't move.
Didn't speak.
Didn't deny it.

Beomgyu chuckled darkly, sitting back in his seat with a mock salute.
"Good. Just making sure we're clear on that."

"Clear on what-"

"Clear that, it's your turn now. To miss me."
Beomgyu whispered with a soft chukle, before he dropped his head down, passing out on the table with his head down.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Beomgyu woke up to the faint chill of the night air, groaning as the world tilted under him.

It took him a second to realize he wasn't walking, he was being carried.

By none other than Choi Yeonjun.

Beomgyu let his head drop onto Yeonjun's shoulder, forcing his eyes open just enough to see the older's profile- still as perfect as ever.

It would've almost been sweet, if it didn't hurt so much to look at him.

The alcohol made his tongue loose, his bitterness sharper.
"Leaving me again, like back then, aren't you, hyung?"

Yeonjun froze mid-step.

"What?"

Beomgyu's laugh was weak, but it cut all the same.
"Don't tell me you're planning to just dump me at my door and disappear again. Like last time."

Yeonjun's grip on him tightened.
"Beomgyu, you're drunk. You don't know what you're saying."

Beomgyu forced himself to lift his head, to meet Yeonjun's gaze. His eyes gleamed with something bitter, but dark.
"Yeah? I perfectly know what I'm thinking about, hyung."

He chuckled, finally getting down from Yeonjun's hold, standing up straight now, his mind sobering up from the cold breeze hitting his face.

"You're not walking away this time, are you? You're coming inside. Or do you really wanna run away twice?" He questioned, lips curling into a knowing smirk as he wanted Yeonjun's expression fall.

Yeonjun couldn't answer, couldn't fight when Beomgyu's fingers curled into his shirt. Didn't resist when Beomgyu tugged him toward the door.

He let him.
Because how could he leave him again?

The apartment was dark and quiet when they stumbled in, Beomgyu practically dragging him now.

Yeonjun dropped him onto the couch with a sigh.
"You should sleep this off," he muttered, straightening his tie.

But Beomgyu caught his wrist before he could step back.

"I'm pretty sober hyung. Won't you stay?"

Yeonjun looked down at him, his expression unreadable.

"Why?"

Beomgyu smirked faintly, even though his eyes glistened with hurt.
"Because you want to. Your emotions are all over you face, Hyung."

And Yeonjun hated that he was right.

Before either of them could think better of it, Beomgyu was pulling him closer, fingers tangled in his tie, breath warm and eyes begging.

"Come on, hyung," he whispered, voice low and desperate. "If you're gonna break me, at least do it properly."

And that was all it took.

Yeonjun's restraint snapped like a thread.
His mouth crashed against Beomgyu's, rough and messy and full of all the years they'd left unsaid.

And somewhere in the middle of it all, Beomgyu was laughing softly against his lips-because even if it was toxic and wrong and painful...

At least this time, Yeonjun didn't walk away.

"Now it's time for you to break, Choi Yeonjun."

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The morning was a little brighter today, the dim rays of sunlight dancing upon Yeonjun's sleeping face, as Beomgyu watched him sleep.

"What a sight..."

There was a time this man used to be his whole world. When one look from this man could have made or ruined his day.

He would have done anything to have this moment back then. To wake up beside him, trace his annoyingly handsome face, cuddle him to his chest, kiss him good morning.

But that Beomgyu? He was dead and gone now.

The Beomgyu who laid here right now? He simply ignored Yeonjun and moved away the warm hands wrapped around his waist like nothing, leaving the bed cold and empty without a single noise, just like his heart was.

"What a shame." He thought to himself, taking his sweet time putting his shirt on, each button a proof of how the older man had pulled it off last night, each crease of his shirt the reminder of hands that had haphazardly clung to him, craving him.

And now?

He happily wore it back like the things from last night never mattered. Like they never happened.

"Now you'll know Hyung, what it feels like to be left behind."

Before Yeonjun could wake up and search for him, Beomgyu was already gone; leaving him behind vulnerable and alone, just like he was left behind once.

With no note.
No text.
Not a single word.

Yeonjun woke up a few moments later, rubbing his eyes as he reached out for Beomgyu, only to be met with nothing but the cold sheets where Beomgyu once laid beside him.

"Beomgyu..?" He called out, sitting up on the bed, looking around for the brunette only to be met with silence.

Beomgyu wasn't here.

He walked downstairs after dressing up, trying to find even a small glimpse of hope, that the younger was still here, that he didn't leave him alone.

But to his disappointment, he was met with nothing but the traces of the brunette's cologne and the ache he left behind in Yeonjun's heart.

His heart sank, stomach feeling uneasy as he scrambled to get his phone from the nightstand, expecting atleast a single text to his name.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The sinking feeling spread like a wildfire inside his chest, as he realised the situation. Beomgyu had left, and he wasn't coming back for him.

He didn't even realise his hands clenching the sheets and knuckles turning white, until he threw his phone on the bed, feeling tears prickling his eyes.

"So you didn't forgive me, Gyu."

He chuckled bitterly, looking at himself in the mirror, finding it hilarious to see a man too familiar looking back at him.

His own pathetic self, which led him here.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Yeonjun swore it was nothing.

That first night.

Just two adults making a mistake they didn't mean. He told himself that when Beomgyu smirked at him the next morning and said, "I thought it was a mistake Hyung, wasn't it? We're just coworkers now, aren't we?"

But then it kept happening.

Nights spent tangled in sheets. Drinks after work that ended in Beomgyu pressing him against his apartment door, laughing softly against his lips while he made Yeonjun forget about everything else, pulling him into something Yeonjun knew he could never get out of again, but he couldn't stop.

Beomgyu knew what he was doing, and he was loving every second of it.

He wanted to break Yeonjun, tangle him into something so twisted, he wouldn't be able to leave without cutting off the strings and bleeding himself dry.

"You're still the same Yeonjun hyung, so desperate for something real when you give others false hope."

At first it was casual, or at least that's what Beomgyu called it.

"We're just having fun, hyung. Don't make it weird."
"Don't get all serious on me, yeah?"

And poor pathetic Yeonjun fell for it every single time, coming back to him like an addict addicted to the temporary warmth Beomgyu provided him.

He would text him at 2 a.m. just:

"you up?"

And Yeonjun would already be halfway out the door. It was so satisfying to his pride, to see Yeonjun break.

Every night as he denied to confirm any labels, every time he left as soon as the sun shined, and everytime Beomgyu acted like he didn't know what they were outside their bedroom, Yeonjun broke little by little, playing into Beomgyu's palm like a puppet connected by strings, helpless and pathetic, and Beomgyu?

Oh he absolutely loved it.

It became a common occurrence now.

At work, Beomgyu acted like nothing happened. Smiling, charming, like he didn't leave Yeonjun gasping for air with his hands in his hair and his mouth on his skin.

Yeonjun tried to catch his eye during a meeting, but Beomgyu didn't even flinch. Just glanced at him once, his lips quirking like a secret, before turning away.

And it hit Yeonjun then, maybe this was the plan all along.

Get him hooked. Get him desperate. Then leave.

And Yeonjun? He couldn't even hate him for it. Because he knew, he deserved it.

Even as he sat alone at his desk, staring at the blinking cursor on his screen, all he could think about was the sound of Beomgyu's laugh in his ear, soft and cruel.

"Don't fall for me, hyung. I'd hate to break your heart."

But he gave in every single time anyways, because...

When he left Beomgyu back then behind, he had left his heart with him too. And now that both Beomgyu and his heart were infront of him, how could he turn away?

"He's right, I am pathetic..."

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The office was quiet after hours. Most of the team had already gone home, leaving just a faint hum of computers and the sound of distant typing.

Beomgyu was leaning lazily against Yeonjun's office doorframe, arms crossed, a faint smirk on his lips.

"You're working late again, hyung?"

Yeonjun didn't look up from his screen, but his shoulders stiffened instantly at the sound of his voice.

"Someone has to get the reports done." He replied quietly.

Beomgyu chuckled softly, watching him as he commented, "You're so diligent. Makes me wonder how you still have time to come crawling back to me every night."

That made Yeonjun snap his eyes up.

Beomgyu's gaze was already on him.
And his smirk widened when he saw the faint flush on Yeonjun's cheeks.

"Oh, don't look so offended, hyung," Beomgyu continued casually.
"Not my fault you can't stay away."

Yeonjun swallowed hard, fingers curling against the desk.

Beomgyu tilted his head slightly, as if studying him. Then he pushed off the doorframe and walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Stand up."

Yeonjun froze.

Beomgyu's voice was quiet, but firm and commanding, and Yeonjun obeyed before he could think better of it.

Beomgyu moved in close, crowding into his space, until Yeonjun's back hit the desk.

He leaned in, his breath warm against Yeonjun's ear.

"You've been staring at me all day, hyung. Did you really think I wouldn't notice?"

Yeonjun's breath hitched, his fists clenching at his sides.

"Tell me," Beomgyu murmured, his lips ghosting over Yeonjun's jaw now. "What exactly were you thinking about? My hands? My mouth? Or just how badly you want to hear me say your name when you're under me again?"

Yeonjun's knees buckled slightly, and Beomgyu chuckled.

"So easy." He thought, as he looked straight at the older, eyes glinting with satisfaction as he gave him a sweet smile.

"You're done here. Get your things. We're leaving."

. . .

Yeonjun barely remembered the drive to Beomgyu's apartment. His mind was hazy, already clouded by the familiar anticipation, the way Beomgyu's words still rang in his ears like a curse.

By the time they stepped inside, Yeonjun was already tugging at his own tie, as if suffocating.

Beomgyu didn't even bother turning the lights on. Just tossed his keys on the counter and turned, catching Yeonjun's chin in his hand.

"On your knees."

Yeonjun obeyed without hesitation, his breath shaky with need as he sank to the floor, looking up at Beomgyu with something between shame and worship.

Beomgyu ran his thumb over his lower lip almost affectionately, then smirked.

"Look at you. Always so eager to embarrass yourself for me."

Yeonjun's hands curled into Beomgyu's thighs as he nodded faintly, powerless to Beomgyu's dominance.
It made the brunette grin, knowing he held the leash wrapped around Yeonjun's neck in his very own hands.

He crouched down slightly, as he whispered-

"Do you even remember what it feels like to have pride anymore, hyung? Or did you leave that behind the first time you begged me to stay?"

Yeonjun's breath hitched again, his chest heaving now, and Beomgyu leaned in, grabbing a fistful of his hair in his hands, his lips brushing his ear as he whispered...

"You'd rather let me break you, than act like we're strangers huh?"

Yeonjun's hands tightened in his pants as he finally choked out, looking up at Beomgyu as if he was his, exisiting just to be broken by his hands.

"I'd rather break. I'd rather break, Gyu. Please, just don't leave me again."

Beomgyu closed his eyes for a second, something sharp and ugly twisted in his chest at the gaze Yeonjun looked at him with.

"Leave you again? Look who's saying."
He thought, and opened his eyes again, cupping Yeonjun's jaw, tilting his head up, his own voice quieter now.

"That's what I thought."

But this time, when he leaned down and kissed him, rough at first, then softer.

Something in Beomgyu cracked.

Because even though Yeonjun was a pathetic mess on the floor, shaking and breathless and clinging to him like a lifeline...

Beomgyu realized he didn't feel satisfied from this game anymore. It was aching, just like back then.

. . .

Later that night, after it was all over, Yeonjun lay in his arms on the bed, his head buried in Beomgyu's chest, his breathing still uneven.

Beomgyu stared down at him for a long time, running his fingers absently through his hair, watching the moonlight reflect on his tear-streaked face.

And for the first time since he started this "revenge" game, an ugly realisation hit him like a truck.

"I don't want to hurt him anymore."

Yeonjun shifted slightly in his hold, mumbling half-asleep.
"You're still here..." he whispered, looking at Beomgyu with a tired yet annoyingly elated look, and Beomgyu hated to admit that it made his heart ache.

Beomgyu swallowed hard, as he whispered back, still caressing the older's soft hair.
"Yeah. I'm still here."

And this time, he didn't leave when morning came. Not when he was starting to feel whole again, not when the gaping hole in his heart was starting to heal and ache for more.

Now, Beomgyu didn't know what to do about it anymore.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

Yet another morning in Yeonjun's room, it was so familiar to Beomgyu by now. He stirred, blinking awake to find it was still early. Birds were starting to make their presence known, the first rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains.

Yeonjun was next to him, still asleep like always, his face soft and peaceful in the hush of Sunday morning.

Beomgyu's first thought was, I should leave.

It was always what he did.
Slip out before sunrise. Leave nothing behind but a cold pillow and silence.

But something about the way Yeonjun's fingers were still loosely curled into his shirt...stopped him.

Beomgyu lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling.

You said you wouldn't care. You said this was just payback. You said you'd never... feel again.

"Don't be weak now, Beomgyu." His jaw tightened as he told himself that, but it contradicted way too much with his actions.

He didn't move.

He found himself in the kitchen instead.
Barefoot, hair a mess, standing over the coffee pot, watching it fill slowly while the morning sun poured in.
His own quiet laugh startled him.

"What the hell am I doing..." he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

He could still hear himself from last night, clear as day:
"Don't make this more than it is, hyung. Don't be stupid. You know better."

But here he was.
Making coffee.
For the man he swore he wouldn't care for anymore.

Beomgyu leaned back against the counter, arms crossed as he watched the dark liquid drip steadily into the pot.
"It's just coffee. Relax. I stayed because it's Sunday. I was tired. That's all."

That's all, that's all, that's all. He repeated those words in his head, trying to convince himself, gaslight himself.

And yet, the ache in his chest told him otherwise.

Yeonjun's voice broke the quiet.

"...Gyu?"

Beomgyu turned, startled, and there he was, leaning against the doorway, hair tousled, still wearing nothing but the shirt Beomgyu had unbuttoned the night before.
He looked at Beomgyu like he couldn't believe he was still here.

Yeonjun swallowed in surprise.
"You're... still here?"

Beomgyu scoffed lightly, trying to play nonchalant.
"Don't sound so surprised, hyung," he teased, even though his own voice sounded softer than he wanted it to.
"It's Sunday. I was too tired to leave. Don't read into it."

Yeonjun's lips parted, like he wanted to say something more, but he didn't. He just nodded faintly, a small smile blooming on his face.

Beomgyu rolled his eyes playfully, turning back to the counter as he poured two cups.
"I figured you'd want coffee, or did old habits changed already, Hyung?"

That got a small laugh out of Yeonjun.
"I... yeah. Coffee's fine."

Beomgyu slid one of the mugs across the counter toward him without looking up.
"Good. Don't make it weird, hyung."

But when his fingers brushed Yeonjun's as he passed the mug over, he didn't mention it, or pull away.
He let himself feel..

The way Yeonjun's skin was still warm from sleep. The way his sleepy voice sounded way too happy to see him here.

Beomgyu swallowed hard, turning back to lean against the counter as he cradled his own mug.

"You're quiet today," he said after a beat, pretending to sip.

Yeonjun just smiled faintly into his coffee.
"I just... wasn't expecting you to still be here."

Beomgyu chuckled softly at that.
"Don't get used to it."

But his own words felt like venom to him, when he saw Yeonjun's face fall slightly.

They drank in silence for a little while, the soft hum of the wind chime outside Yeonjun's window being the only noise in the comfortable silence they were draped in. A silence Beomgyu shouldn't be craving, but he did.

Because he remembered last night.
He remembered his own voice, sharp and cruel, taunting Yeonjun between kisses.
And he remembered the way Yeonjun still kissed him back anyway, breathless, desperate, holding onto anything Beomgyu gave him.

And now here they were.
Sunday morning.
Drinking coffee together like it was...more.

Beomgyu hated how badly a part of him wanted it to be more. He was losing in his own game, and he didn't even realise it.

. . .

When Yeonjun set his empty mug down and started to retreat back toward the bedroom to get dressed, Beomgyu caught himself staring.

At the slope of his shoulders.
At the faint bruises peeking out of his collar. At the hesitance in his steps to leave, scared Beomgyu will leave as soon as he disappears.

And Beomgyu's fingers tightened around his coffee mug, bcause something ugly and raw in his chest said, I don't want him to think I'd leave him right now. Not today.

So he didn't.

When Yeonjun came back fully dressed, Beomgyu was still standing there at the counter, hair messy, lips pressed into his mug.

"You're... still here," Yeonjun said again softly, and this time Beomgyu didn't scoff.
He just gave a lazy smile and faux tease.

"Yeah," he said simply. "You got a problem with that?"

Yeonjun actually smiled at that.
"No. Not at all."

And Beomgyu hated how much that smile got to him.

God damn Choi Yeonjun, he wasn't supposed to have this grip on him still.

❝ ✉️ ❞ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

That week at work, Beomgyu caught himself slipping.

His eyes followed Yeonjun into meetings. His hands itched to straighten Yeonjun's tie for him when no one was looking. His stomach flipped every time Yeonjun's eyes found his across the room.

And Yeonjun noticed it too. It was hard not to, when Beomgyu had his slip-ups so obviously.

Beomgyu could tell Yeonjun was catching on, by the way his cheeks flushed when their shoulders brushed in the elevator. The way his lips parted like he wanted to say something every time Beomgyu, but didn't dare hope for more.

And Beomgyu...never let himself admit what it meant for him now.

. . .

By Friday night, Beomgyu was at Yeonjun's door again, but at his own will.

"Gyu?"

"Shut up," Beomgyu muttered, pushing past him into the apartment.
"Don't make it strange, I'm just tired."

Before he could walk inside, Yeonjun caught him by the wrist, making Beomgyu freeze.

Beomgyu turned his head, about to say something cruel, to keep up the game, but then he saw the look in Yeonjun's eyes.

Raw. Confused. Hopeful.

And suddenly Beomgyu couldn't find it in himself to say anything at all.

So instead, he just pulled Yeonjun in by the collar, kissing him rough and desperate, like the answer would come out of Yeonjun's lips itself if he tried.

They fell into the same toxic cycle again, but tonight, when Yeonjun fell asleep with his head on Beomgyu's chest again, Beomgyu stared at the ceiling for a long time, fingers absentmindedly tracing the older's hair.

"I said I'd never feel again," he whispered into the quiet to himself.
"...so why does it feel like I'm falling in love with you all over again?"

And he stayed.
Just like he promised himself he never would.

˙ . ꒷ 🍰 . 𖦹˙-

Well well, Rin oneshot comeback y'all!!

This is for my lovely Bamgay Angielina07 <333
Hope you enjoyed the oneshot Wifey😋🎀 and y'all too!!

This will have a part.2 cuz this was getting too long lol.

We love Pathetic Yeonjun don't we? The pic is exactly how bro looks at Beomgyu🤭🤭 Alright, see ya in part two!! I didn't get time to re-check spells so don't mind pls!
-Rin💗