Chapter Text
Hyuntak really loved Christmas.
The apartment smelled like cinnamon—probably the cookies Baku had insisted on making despite Hyuntak's repeated warnings that he couldn't bake to save his life—and Hyuntak was currently wedged between the kitchen counter and Seongje's body, which wasn't an unusual position to find himself in these days, three months into whatever this thing between them had become (a relationship, his brain supplied helpfully, though saying it out loud still made his chest do weird things). Seongje's hand was on his hip, thumb hooked through a belt loop in that possessive way that drove Hyuntak absolutely insane, and his other hand was reaching past Hyuntak's shoulder for the bottle of soju on the top shelf, his chest pressing flush against Hyuntak's back in a way that was completely unnecessary considering Hyuntak could have just handed him the damn bottle.
"You're doing this on purpose." Hyuntak muttered, trying to ignore the way his body automatically leaned back into Seongje's warmth, the way his pulse kicked up at the casual contact that had become so familiar it felt like breathing.
"Doing what?" Seongje's voice was low against his ear, breath hot on his neck, and Hyuntak could hear the smirk in it without even having to look. "I'm just trying to get the soju, sweetheart. You're the one pressed up against the counter like you're waiting for something."
Hyuntak elbowed him in the ribs and Seongje laughed which made Hyuntak's stomach flip even after hearing it every single day for months now. The bastard finally grabbed the bottle and stepped back, but not before pressing a quick kiss to the side of Hyuntak's neck. Hyuntak had to bite down on his lip to keep from making a sound because Sieun and Suho were literally right there in the living room, separated only by the thin wall and the open doorway, and the last thing he needed was for them to hear him getting turned on in his own kitchen while they were supposed to be hosting a Christmas gathering.
"You're an asshole," Hyuntak said, turning around to glare at Seongje.
"I love you too, baby." Seongje shot back, already moving toward the living room with the soju. Hyuntak rolled his eyes.
The apartment was crowded as it was everytime their friends came over in the last months. The place was packed with the usual suspects plus one addition that Hyuntak was still trying to wrap his head around after weeks of knowing him: Na Baekjin, who was currently sitting on Hyuntak's secondhand armchair with dark eyes that tracked everything. He was nothing like the bumbling idiot from Seongje's stories instead he was composed and quiet that felt deliberate, and objectively handsome in that severe way that made Hyuntak understand why Baku kept stealing glances at him when he thought no one was looking.
Baku was perched on the couch next to where Baekjin sat and they were close enough that their knees were almost touching. He was yapping animatedly about something while Baekjin listened with an expression that could have been boredom or interest, it was genuinely hard to tell. Hyuntak had spent the hours trying to reconcile this version of Baekjin with the character from Seongje's story he heard from his apartment before they got together and the other ones Seongje told him after they did. He'd finally given up and just accepted that Seongje was either a compulsive liar or Baekjin saved all that for when he was alone with his friend, which honestly made more sense the more Hyuntak thought about it.
Sieun and Suho were tangled together as always, Suho's arm slung over Sieun's shoulders while Sieun leaned into him with his legs tucked under himself, and they were having what looked like a serious conversation with Juntae. Hyuntak felt warm in a way that had nothing to do with the space heater humming in the corner and everything to do with the people filling it.
Maybe seconds after Hyuntak came into the living room and sat Seongje set the soju down on the coffee table with a soft thunk and immediately claimed the spot next to Hyuntak on the floor his thigh pressed against Hyuntak's in a line of heat that was distracting in the best way. Hyuntak shot him a look that was meant to be warning but probably came across as fond, and Seongje just raised an eyebrow like he was daring Hyuntak to say something about it in front of everyone.
"So Baekjin," Baku said, and his voice had that slightly higher pitch that meant he was nervous even though he was trying to hide it, "Seongje and Hyuntak told us a lot about you, but I feel like we don't actually know anything real about you."
Baekjin's expression didn't change, but there was something in his eyes—amusement maybe, or irritation, it was genuinely impossible to read him—and he glanced at Seongje with a look that seemed to say we're going to talk about this later before turning back to Baku. "I work in architecture," he said, voice low and even. "Don't believe anything Seongje tells you, he has a tendency to exaggerate."
Hyuntak grinned. "Isn't that the truth?"
He felt Seongje's hand settle on the back of his neck, fingers playing with the short hairs there in a way that was probably meant to be soothing but just made him hyper-aware of every point of contact between them. He leaned into it without thinking, the gesture automatic after months of learning each other's touches, and he caught Sieun watching them with that knowing look he got sometimes.
"How are the cookies coming?" Suho asked suddenly, looking toward the kitchen with concern, and that's when Hyuntak remembered that they'd left Baku's baking experiment unattended for at least twenty minutes.
"Oh shit," Baku said, scrambling up from his perch and nearly tripping over Juntae's legs in his rush to get to the kitchen. "I forgot I put those in!"
Hyuntak groaned as he started to push himself up to help deal but Seongje's hand tightened on his neck, holding him in place, and when Hyuntak looked at him with confusion and mild irritation, Seongje just shook his head.
"Let him handle it," Seongje said. "He's the one who wanted to bake despite multiple people telling him he couldn't."
"He's going to burn down my kitchen," Hyuntak pointed out pouting, but he settled back down anyway because Seongje's thumb was tracing circles on the back of his neck and it was doing things to his ability to care about potentially destroyed appliances.
"Then we'll get you a new kitchen," Seongje said easily, like it was that simple, like he hadn't just casually suggested spending what would probably be thousands of dollars to replace Hyuntak's kitchen.
Baekjin had gotten up to help Baku—or maybe to supervise and make sure nothing actually caught fire—and Hyuntak watched as they disappeared into the kitchen together, Baku's voice carrying back out to them in a stream of curses. Juntae had shifted to take up more space on the couch now that Baku wasn't occupying the rest, stretching out his legs with a satisfied sigh.
"This is nice," Hyuntak said quietly, and he wasn't sure if he was talking to Seongje or just thinking out loud, processing the strange contentment that had settled in his chest as he looked around at all these people who had somehow become his family without him really noticing it happening.
Seongje hummed in agreement, his hand sliding from Hyuntak's neck down to his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Yeah," he said, and there was something soft in his voice, something genuine that he usually hid behind sarcasm and teasing. "It is."
From the kitchen came Baku's exaggerated groan of despair and Baekjin's measured voice saying something that Hyuntak couldn't quite make out but that sounded like it might have been actual helpful advice rather than mockery. Juntae called out asking if they needed help, and Baku yelled back that it was too late, the cookies were beyond saving, he was going to go out and get some desert.
"I told him not to try making those," Hyuntak said for maybe the hundredth time.
"You did tell him," Seongje agreed definitely the hundredth time, and his thumb was back to tracing patterns on Hyuntak's shoulder now, mindless touches that felt grounding in a way that Hyuntak was starting to crave whenever they were apart.
Seongje's hand came up to cup his jaw, thumb brushing across his cheekbone in a gesture that was becoming familiar, and Hyuntak found himself leaning into the touch despite every instinct that told him they should probably cool it with the PDA while they had company.
"You two are disgusting," Sieun called out from the couch, but there was amusement in his voice rather than actual disgust.
"You're literally sitting in Suho's lap," Hyuntak shot back, because Sieun had absolutely no room to talk considering he and Suho were basically grafted together at this point, had been for years now, and they made Hyuntak and Seongje look practically chaste by comparison.
"That's different," Sieun said primly, even as Suho's arm tightened around his waist in a way that completely contradicted his point.
"How is that different?" Hyuntak demanded.
"We do because we earned the right to PDA by learning how to be normal around people first but you do because you don't know how to do that."
Hyuntak opened his mouth to protest, to point out that they were perfectly capable of being normal around each other when they wanted to be, but then he realized that Seongje's hand was on his jaw, that his own hand had somehow ended up on Seongje's thigh, that they were sitting so close that anyone looking at them would immediately clock them as a couple, and maybe his friends had a point.
"Shut up," he said instead, because that seemed like the safest response, and everyone in the living room laughed including Seongje, whose thumb was now tracing the line of Hyuntak's jaw.
Baku and Baekjin emerged from the kitchen then, Baku carrying a tray that might have once been cookies, and Baekjin following behind with a carefully neutral expression that suggested he had opinions about the state of Baku's baking skills but was choosing to keep them to himself for the sake of politeness.
"Behold." Baku announced dramatically, setting the tray down on the coffee table with a flourish.
"They're not that bad," Baekjin said, which was possibly the kindest lie Hyuntak had ever heard anyone tell because the cookies were definitely that bad—they were burnt black on the edges and they smelled like how burnt things smelled: burnt.
"You don't have to be nice about it," Baku said, but he was smiling at Baekjin in a way that made it clear he appreciated the attempt at encouragement even if they both knew the cookies were unsalvageable.
"I'm not being nice," Baekjin replied. "They're definitely edible. They might not be good, but they won't kill anyone."
"That's the lowest bar I've ever heard," Juntae said, eyeing the cookies with obvious skepticism.
"It's the bar we're working with," Baekjin said with a slight shrug, and then he did something that surprised everyone in the room: he picked up one of the cookies and took a bite, chewing slowly while maintaining eye contact with Baku the entire time.
The cookie crunched loudly and Hyuntak watched as Baekjin's jaw worked to break it down enough to swallow. His expression never changed, staying perfectly neutral even though that cookie had to taste absolutely terrible, and Hyuntak realized with sudden clarity that this was Baekjin's version of flirting, this deadpan commitment.
Baku seemed to realize it too, because his entire face lit up in a way that Hyuntak hadn't seen in months on him regarding romance, bright and genuine and maybe a little bit smitten. "Oh my god," he said, half-laughing. "You don't have to actually eat it."
"Too late," Baekjin said, still chewing, and there might have been the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now.
"Is he mentally unwell?" Sieun murmured, just loud enough for everyone to hear, and Suho snorted into his drink while Hyuntak threw a pillow at him that sailed wide and hit the wall instead.
Seongje's hand had migrated from Hyuntak's jaw down to his waist at some point and now his fingers were splayed over his hip. He could feel the warmth of Seongje's palm through his shirt, could feel the slight pressure of each finger like individual points of contact, and it was taking significant effort to focus on the conversation happening around them instead of just turning into Seongje and forgetting that they had an audience.
He was so horny whenever he was close to Seongje.
Hyuntak realized with growing horror that he'd been staring at Seongje's hands for what was probably an inappropriate amount of time—specifically at the way his fingers were drumming absently against the soju bottle, they were long and stupidly attractive in a way that made absolutely no sense because they were just hands, everyone had hands, but somehow Seongje's hands were different in the same way that everything about Seongje had become different over the past three months, like his brain had been rewired to find meaning in the most mundane shit like the angle of his wrist or the way his thumb pressed against condensation on glass, and it was even worse now because those were the same hands that cooked with him for three hours for the Christmas gathering they hold for their friends, chopping vegetables and stirring pots and occasionally stealing tastes of sauce directly from the spoon in a way that should have been annoying but instead made Hyuntak want to kiss him stupid.
"You good?" Seongje asked, and Hyuntak's eyes snapped up to find him watching with that knowing look that meant he'd been caught, again, being obvious about whatever this consuming thing was that made him want to drag Seongje into his bedroom and lock the door despite having a living room full of their friends who would definitely notice their absence and would definitely give them shit about it later.
"Fine," Hyuntak said, which came out slightly strangled, and Sieun made a noise that sounded suspiciously like he was choking on suppressed laughter.
Baekjin had finally finished chewing the burnt cookie and Baku was watching him with an expression that Hyuntak recognized from his own mirror whenever Seongje did something unexpectedly soft except they knew each other for so short, that stupid helpless fondness that made you feel like your entire chest was going to crack open. "You're insane," Baku said, but it sounded like a compliment, and Baekjin's response was to reach for another cookie, which was either commitment to the bit or actual insanity, possibly both.
"Don't," Baku said quickly, grabbing Baekjin's wrist. "I can't watch you suffer through another one, I'll feel guilty for the rest of the night."
"I wasn't suffering." Baekjin said, which was obviously a lie but the fact that he was lying about it made it somehow worse in that it was clearly an attempt to make Baku feel better which was weirdly thoughtful for someone who looked like he'd never had a soft emotion in his entire life. His voice flat when he lied but his wrist was still in Baku's grip and he wasn't pulling away, which said more than whatever words he was using to deflect, and then Baku was tugging him toward the kitchen door saying he was starving and Baekjin followed without protest.
Hyuntak started to get up to bring everything out but Seongje's hand tightened on his hip, holding him in place for just a second longer and when Hyuntak looked at him with confusion Seongje leaned in close enough that his lips brushed against Hyuntak's ear. "You are such a good host today," he said quietly, just for Hyuntak to hear, and it was such a simple thing to say but it made Hyuntak's chest do something complicated and warm.
"Maybe because I have the best co-host, baby." Hyuntak corrected, because it had been a team effort even if Seongje had done most of the actual cooking while Hyuntak played sous chef and tried not to get distracted by the way Seongje's forearms looked when he was stirring things, which was harder than it should have been.
Seongje's response was to press a quick kiss to his temple before finally letting him go.
The kitchen table—which was really more of a glorified counter that they'd shoved against the wall—was covered in dishes they'd spent the afternoon preparing: bulgogi that Seongje had marinated the night before and cooked to perfect caramelization, kimchi jjigae that was still bubbling slightly in its pot, japchae that Hyuntak had helped assemble, and various banchan that they'd arranged on small plates with more care than was probably necessary but Hyuntak had insisted on presentation.
"Holy shit," Sieun said, appearing in the kitchen doorway with Suho right behind him, both of them staring at the spread with genuine appreciation. "You guys actually cooked all this?"
"Don't sound so surprised," Hyuntak said, even though he was kind of surprised too because he'd never really done a full meal like this before but Seongje had suggested they cook for everyone this year and Hyuntak had agreed before really thinking about the amount of work involved, and then it turned out that cooking with Seongje was actually kind of perfect in a way he hadn't expected.
"I'm very surprised," Sieun said honestly. "I've known you for years and I've never seen you cook this much."
"Seongje did most of it," Hyuntak admitted.
"Shut up, we did it together," Seongje said from behind him and Hyuntak leaned back into Seongje's chest without thinking about it.
"You two are disgusting," Sieun said, but he was smiling as he said it, already reaching for one of the serving spoons to start transferring food to his plate.
"Glass houses, Sieun," Hyuntak shot back.
When they started eating Baekjin took a careful bite of the bulgogi and his eyes widened slightly—the most dramatic reaction Hyuntak had seen from him all night—and he looked at Seongje with something that might have been respect or surprise. "This is really good," he said.
"Thanks," Seongje said and he gave a smile that showed he was really happy that Baekjin liked it. Seongje's hand was back on Hyuntak's thigh now.
"The jjigae is perfect," Baku announced through a mouthful of stew, completely abandoning any pretense of manners in favor of shoveling food into his mouth like he hadn't eaten in days. "Seriously, I think this might be the best kimchi jjigae I've ever had."
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Baekjin said automatically, and then looked surprised that he'd said it, like the words had come out without his permission, and Baku just grinned at him with his mouth still full because apparently being scolded by Baekjin was somehow charming.
Hyuntak took a bite of the bulgogi and had to admit it was really fucking good. Seongje had made him taste it earlier but somehow it was better now, sitting here with everyone, the meat tender and perfectly seasoned with just enough sweetness from the marinade. He remembered watching Seongje cook it on the stovetop, the careful attention he'd paid to not burning it, the way he'd made Hyuntak try a piece and then kissed him when Hyuntak said it was good, tasting like soy sauce and sugar and something uniquely Seongje.
Juntae was telling some story and everyone was laughing, and the apartment was warm and full of people and noise and the smell of good food, and Hyuntak felt belonging settle in his chest.
"This is really nice," Sieun said.
"It is," Hyuntak agreed, and Seongje's hand squeezed his thigh in response, and yeah, this was pretty much perfect.
Three weeks after the Christmas gathering, Baku found himself standing outside a coffee shop in Hongdae at precisely seven in the evening, checking his phone for the fourth time in as many minutes even though he knew Baekjin wasn't late because Baekjin seemed like the type of person who would rather arrive early and wait than be even thirty seconds behind schedule.
The coffee shop was one of those aesthetically pleasing places with floor-to-ceiling windows and minimalist interior design that made Baku feel slightly underdressed in his casual sweater and jeans, but Baekjin had suggested it when they'd been texting back and forth over the past few days, and Baku had agreed immediately because he'd been too excited about the prospect of an actual date to care about venue choices.
This was a date, right? Baku had spent an embarrassing amount of time analyzing their text conversations with Hyuntak, who had been absolutely no help whatsoever because he'd just kept making jokes about Baku finally understanding what he'd gone through with Seongje, and then Seongje had gotten involved and declared that yes, this was definitely a date, Baekjin didn't do casual coffee meetups with people he wasn't interested in, and Baku should stop overthinking and just show up looking decent. So here he was, looking what he hoped was decent, trying not to spiral.
"You're early," came Baekjin's voice from behind him, and Baku jumped slightly before turning to find him standing there looking unfairly put-together in dark slacks and a wool coat that probably cost more than Baku's entire wardrobe, his hair styled in that effortlessly messy way that Baku was ninety percent sure actually required significant effort to achieve.
"So are you," Baku pointed out, grinning despite his nerves.
"I don't like being late," Baekjin said, which was possibly the most Baekjin response imaginable, and then he gestured toward the coffee shop entrance. "Should we go in? It's cold out here."
It wasn't actually that cold—the winter chill had mellowed into something almost pleasant as January went by—but Baku nodded anyway and followed Baekjin inside, where the warmth of the heated interior immediately made him feel overdressed in his thick sweater. The coffee shop was busier than he'd expected for a weeknight but Baekjin navigated through the crowd as he probably knew exactly where he wanted to sit.
They ended up at a small table near the back and Baku found himself suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands now that they were actually here, actually doing this, whatever this was.
"What do you want to drink?" Baekjin asked, pulling out his wallet before Baku could even process the question properly.
"I can pay for my own coffee," Baku said automatically.
"I know you can," Baekjin replied, completely unfazed. "But I asked you to meet me, so I'm paying. What do you want?"
Baku's protests die in his throat, and he found himself mumbling an order for an iced americano even though it was winter and hot drinks made more logical sense. Baekjin didn't comment on the choice, just nodded and headed to the counter, leaving Baku alone at the table to contemplate for his life.
When Baekjin returned with their drinks—the iced americano Baku had requested and what looked like a matcha latte for himself—he settled into the chair across from Baku. "So," he said, wrapping his hands around his cup in a way that was oddly endearing, "Seongje told me you've been asking about me."
Baku nearly choked on his first sip of coffee, the cold liquid hitting the back of his throat wrong and making him cough embarrassingly while Baekjin watched with that same neutral expression that could have meant anything from amusement to concern. "He what?" Baku managed once he'd recovered enough to speak, his face burning with mortification because of course Seongje had said something, of course he couldn't keep his mouth shut about Baku's very obvious interest.
"He said you wanted to know if I was seeing anyone," Baekjin clarified, and there might have been the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth now, barely visible but definitely there.
"I'm going to kill him," Baku muttered, but there was no real heat behind it.
"Don't," Baekjin said simply. "I asked him to tell me if you were interested. I'm not good at reading these things, so I needed confirmation before I did anything about it."
Baku's brain stuttered to a halt, processing those words in slow motion because they implied several things at once: that Baekjin had been interested enough to ask Seongje about him, that Baekjin had been uncertain enough about Baku's feelings to need that confirmation, and that Baekjin had done something about it, which presumably meant this coffee meetup that was maybe definitely actually a date. "You asked about me?" he said, voice coming out higher than intended.
"I did," Baekjin confirmed, taking a measured sip of his matcha latte. "You're very loud and enthusiastic about everything, which made it difficult to tell if your attention toward me was romantic interest or just your general personality."
"That's—" Baku started, then stopped, because that was actually fair considering he knew he had a tendency to be over-the-top about most things in his life, had been told repeatedly by his friends that his energy levels were exhausting for normal people to keep up with. "Okay, that's a reasonable assumption. But yes, I was interested. Am interested. Currently interested in you specifically."
"Good," Baekjin said, and this time the smile was more obvious, transforming his entire face from severe to something approaching warm. He looked cute. "Because I find you interesting as well."
"What do you find interesting about me?" Baku asked, genuinely curious and shy now.
Baekjin considered the question seriously, his fingers tapping a thoughtful rhythm against his cup while he seemed to be choosing his words carefully. "You're genuine," he said finally. "You are cute and very human. I feel like you are perfect the way you are not perfect. It's refreshing, especially in my line of work where everyone's constantly trying to present a perfect image." He paused, then added with what might have been self-deprecation, "Also, you make me laugh, which doesn't happen often."
"I make you laugh?" Baku repeated his eyes widened.
"You do," Baekjin clarified. "More than most of the people I know."
Baku found himself grinning.
"So this is definitely a date then," Baku said, deciding to just put it out there explicitly rather than continuing to wonder.
"Yes," Baekjin confirmed without hesitation. "I don't do ambiguity well. This is a date, I'm interested in potentially dating you if this goes well."
"That's—wow, okay, very direct," Baku said, appreciating the clarity even as his heart rate picked up. "I like direct. Direct is good. And yes, I would also like to potentially date you if this goes well, which so far it's going pretty well from me."
They fell into easier conversation after that initial awkwardness had been cleared away by Baekjin's characteristic bluntness, and Baku found himself relaxing into his chair as they talked about everything from Baekjin's latest architectural project—something involving sustainable building materials and complex structural calculations that went over Baku's head but that he enjoyed listening to anyway because Baekjin's eyes lit up when he talked about his work—to Baku's own job, which felt significantly less impressive by comparison but which Baekjin seemed genuinely interested in hearing about. Baku had some interesting stories in his bag about his job and he found himself telling them.
"You're so good at storytelling," Baekjin said at some point, and Baku blinked because he hadn't thought of himself as particularly good at storytelling, had just always assumed he talked too much and people tolerated it.
They ordered more drinks eventually—Baku switching to hot chocolate because his iced americano had left him cold, and Baekjin getting another matcha latte because apparently he had a system and didn't deviate from it—and somewhere during their second round of caffeine, Baekjin's foot bumped against Baku's under the table. It might have been accidental except that it didn't move away.
"You're blushing," Baekjin observed, because apparently nothing escaped his notice, and Baku wanted to deny it but knew his face was definitely betraying him right now.
"You're touching my foot," Baku pointed out, deciding that if Baekjin could be direct then he could too.
"I am," Baekjin agreed, not moving his foot away. "Is that okay?"
"It's very okay," Baku said quickly, perhaps too quickly based on the way Baekjin's smile widened just slightly. "I'm just not used to you being... tactile, I guess?"
"I'm not usually," Baekjin admitted. "But I'm playing all my cards, I guess."
"You've really thought this through, haven't you?" Baku asked, charmed despite himself by the revelation that Baekjin had apparently been planning this date with the same meticulous attention he probably applied to his architectural projects.
"I don't like leaving things to chance," Baekjin said. "I wanted this first date to go well. I don't plan to go any other if this one succeeds so."
Baku's brain short-circuited for a moment.
"That's a lot of pressure to put on one date," Baku said, trying to sound casual even though his voice came out slightly breathless, and he could feel his pulse doing something erratic in his throat because the weight of Baekjin's words was settling over him.
"Is it?" Baekjin asked, tilting his head and Baku realized that Baekjin probably didn't see it as pressure at all but rather as simple honesty, as stating facts about his intentions the way he might present calculations. "I thought it was better to be clear about what I want rather than pretending this is something casual when I know myself well enough to know I don't do casual well."
Baku found himself nodding even as his mind raced through the implications, thinking about how different this was from the handful of other dating experiences he'd had in the past where everything had been vague and undefined and left to chance, where people had been content to just see where things went without any real intention behind it. While that approach had its merits Baku had to admit there was something deeply appealing about Baekjin's straightforwardness, about knowing exactly where he stood and what Baekjin was hoping for from this.
"I'm not great at casual either, if I'm being honest—I tend to get too invested too quickly and then people think I'm overwhelming or too intense, which I probably am, but it's just how I operate."he said finally, deciding that honesty deserved honesty in return.
"I don't think you're overwhelming," Baekjin said. "You are very genuine. What I see is what I get, and I find that incredibly attractive."
Baku felt heat creeping up his neck.
"You can't just say things like that," he protested weakly but he was smiling.
The smile that spread across Baekjin's face at those words was wider than any expression Baku had seen from him before and Baku thought that he wanted to see Baekjin smile like that as often as possible, wanted to be the person who could make him look that happy on a regular basis. "I can, as long as you smile like that in return." Baekjin said.
Something in Baku's chest went soft. "Stop," Baku murmured and on impulse he reached across the table to cover Baekjin's hand with his own. "I am going to die because my heart beats too much."
Baekjin's hand turned under his, palm up, fingers curling slightly to hold onto Baku's in return. "You'll be fine." he said.
And he did something that changed Baku's life trajectory.
He lifted Baku's hand to his lips and pressed a soft, chaste kiss to his knuckles.
"Would you like to walk around the area? There's a night market nearby that should still be open. I think you would like it."
Baku managed to nod, not trusting his voice to work properly after that hand kiss which had short-circuited his brain completely, and they gathered their things and headed out into the evening air that had gotten properly cold now that the sun had fully set. Baekjin's hand found his as they walked and Baku felt ridiculously giddy about the simple fact of holding hands with someone who actually seemed to like him.
The night market was exactly the kind of place Baku loved—crowded and loud and full of food stalls selling everything from tteokbokki to hotteok, the air thick with the smell of frying oil and spices and sugar.
"We should get hotteok," Baku declared, dragging Baekjin toward a stall that had a line of people waiting but that looked worth it based on the smell alone. "I know I have a terrible track record with cooking, but I'm excellent at eating, and hotteok is objectively the best winter street food."
"I'll trust your expertise," Baekjin said, allowing himself to be pulled along, and they waited in line together while Baku rambled about the various hotteok flavors he'd tried over the years and ranked them according to an elaborate system that made no sense to anyone but him. He even had a instagram account named BAKUEATS and he posted the places he went to with his reviews. Baekjin said he should make an account just to follow him there.
When they finally got their hotteok they found a relatively quiet spot away from the main flow of foot traffic and ate in comfortable silence for a few moments. The hotteok was perfect, crispy on the outside and molten sweet on the inside, and Baku made an embarrassing noise of satisfaction after his first bite that made Baekjin's lips twitch upward.
"Good?" Baekjin asked, even though the answer was obviously yes based on the way Baku was demolishing his hotteok with single-minded focus.
"So good," Baku confirmed around a mouthful, then realized he probably had sugar on his face and tried to wipe it away with his free hand. He missed apparently, because Baekjin reached over and brushed his thumb across the corner of Baku's mouth, collecting the stray sugar there.
"You're messy," Baekjin observed and he licked the sugar off his thumb in a way that should not have been as attractive as it was but that made Baku's brain go temporarily offline.
They wandered through the rest of the night market after that, stopping at various stalls. Baekjin bought him a pair of ridiculous fuzzy gloves from one vendor despite Baku's protests that he didn't need them, and when Baku tried them on they were so absurdly oversized even on his big hands that his hands looked like cartoon character hands, which made him laugh hard enough that several people turned to stare.
"You look ridiculous," Baekjin said, but he was smiling properly now, a full genuine smile that transformed his whole face and made him look younger and Baku thought that maybe getting Baekjin to smile like that could become his new favorite hobby.
"You bought them for me," Baku pointed out, holding up his ridiculously gloved hands. "This is your fault."
"I know," Baekjin said, pulling out his phone. "Hold still, I want a picture."
Baku posed making dumb expressions until Baekjin was actually laughing. When Baekjin showed him the photos afterward, Baku looked completely ridiculous in all of them, but Baekjin was looking at the pictures with such obvious affection that Baku couldn't bring himself to care about his dignity.
They ended up at a pojangmacha eventually, one of those small tent-like stalls that served cheap soju and anju, and they squeezed onto a bench together in the cramped space that forced them to sit close enough that their thighs pressed together along their entire length. The soju was harsh and warming and they ordered far too much food.
"Seongje says you have a tattoo," Baku said at some point when they were both pleasantly buzzed, the alcohol loosening his tongue enough that he felt brave asking questions he might have been too nervous to ask sober. "But I don't think I've ever seen it."
"It's not visible when I'm dressed," Baekjin said, which was not actually an answer to the question of whether he had one but did confirm that there was something to see. "Why, did you want to see it?"
"Maybe," Baku said, trying for casual and probably missing by a mile based on the way Baekjin's eyebrow raised slightly. "I mean, if you want to show me."
Baekjin considered him for a long moment, something inscrutable in his expression, and then shrugged out of his coat despite the cold, pushing up the sleeve of his sweater to reveal his inner forearm where a delicate line drawing of a building sat.
"It's my first building," Baekjin explained as Baku leaned closer to examine it, their heads nearly touching as they both looked down at the tattoo. "The first one I designed that actually got built. I got this the day it was completed."
"It's beautiful," Baku said honestly, resisting the urge to trace the lines with his finger because that felt too intimate for a first date even though they'd been acting very non-first date-y for the last hours. "Very you."
Baekjin looked pleased by that assessment. "Do you have any tattoos?" he asked, turning the question back around.
"No," Baku admitted. "I'm terrified of needles, which I realize is ironic given how much I love the aesthetic of tattoos. I keep thinking I'll get one eventually, but then I remember needles exist and I chicken out."
"That's fair," Baekjin said seriously. "Seongje gave me the idea, I don't know if I would do it on my own."
They stayed at the pojangmacha until the owner started giving them pointed looks that suggested it was time to move along, and when they finally stumbled out into the cold night air, both of them slightly unsteady from soju and full from too much food, Baku realized with a start that it was nearly eleven and they'd been together for almost four hours without him once checking his phone or feeling bored or wishing he was somewhere else.
"I should probably let you go home," Baekjin said, and there was reluctance in his voice like he didn't particularly want the evening to end either. "It's late."
"Yeah," Baku agreed, equally reluctant, and they started walking toward the nearest subway station with their hands linked again, moving slower than necessary like they were both trying to stretch out the remaining time they had together. When they reached the station entrance, Baekjin stopped and turned to face Baku properly, both of his hands coming up to frame Baku's face in a gesture that was becoming familiar despite this being their first date.
"I had a good time tonight," Baekjin said quietly, his thumbs brushing across Baku's cheekbones in a touch that was gentle and grounding at the same time. "I'd like to do this again, if you're interested."
"I'm very interested," Baku assured him, his own hands finding their way to Baekjin's waist, fingers curling into the fabric of his coat. "This was—this was perfect."
"I know, it was." Baekjin said, and then he was leaning in, giving Baku plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to but Baku definitely didn't want to, and their lips met in a kiss. It was perfect in its gentleness, in the way Baekjin's hands stayed steady on his face while Baku's grip tightened on his coat, in the way they both smiled against each other's mouths when they finally pulled apart.
"Text me when you get home," Baekjin said, stepping back but keeping one hand linked with Baku's like he was reluctant to lose contact completely. "So I know you made it safely."
"I will," Baku promised, and then because he couldn't help himself, because the evening had been so unexpectedly perfect that he felt brave, he pulled Baekjin back in for one more quick kiss that made them both laugh breathlessly when they separated. "Goodnight, Baekjin."
"Goodnight, Humin," Baekjin replied.
He pulled out his phone once he was on the train, grinning like an idiot at nothing, and found a text from Hyuntak already waiting.
My Gotak <3
how did it go???
did you embarrass yourself???
are you in love yet???
Baku typed back quickly.
it went amazing
and yes probably
And that night, Baku fell asleep grinning at his ceiling like a complete fool.