Choi Yeonjun is an art director with zero tolerance for bullshit, looking for ultimate perfection in everything he creates.
Choi Beomgyu is the co-owner of a vintage fashion boutique who talks to clothes and learns magic from Tumblr.
It's a match ma...
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In retrospect, it might really have been better if Beomgyu had said FUCK YEAH I WANNA MAKE IT WEIRD.
Because the morning has somehow become a morning after without even the satisfaction of sex.
"Hi," Yeonjun says, blearily, in the middle of Beomgyu's efforts to use spotty hotel Wi-Fi to send Taehyun pictures. Then he doesn't say anything for the longest fucking time, just watches Beomgyu sit there with his bed-head and loose pajama top. It's weird. It's probably the longest Yeonjun's gone without either a) teasing, or b) insulting him in some way, and Beomgyu doesn't know what to do with this. Stripped off the night, Beomgyu feels oddly vulnerable. Like he both wants to cuddle closer to Yeonjun and run far, far away.
"Hi," he says back, after the long, sticky silence, which only makes everything weirder.
Yeonjun groans as he turns over, trying to find warmth. He seems half-asleep still. "Your hair looks so soft always. It's so unfair."
For some reason, Beomgyu finds Yeonjun tremendously endearing at this moment. Maybe it's the soft, rumpled shape of him, so different from his wakeful self. Maybe it's the way he looks at Beomgyu, eyes wide and mouth in a pout, like maybe Beomgyu's genuinely offended him by having pretty hair. Whatever it is, Beomgyu wants more of this.
"Hyung..."
"Pretty," Yeonjun mutters, curls into a ball under their shared blanket, and goes back to sleep.
When he finally wakes up at nine, he acts like he doesn't remember. Beomgyu decides to remind him by twirling in front of Yeonjun, fully dressed and groomed in his blue tweed jacket and dress pants, shaking his head a little to set the long silver earring in one ear swinging. "Is this pretty, hyung?" he asks, and feels smugly satisfied at the slow horror dawning on Yeonjun's face.
He doesn't expect any answer, busying himself instead with polishing his shoes. But then Yeonjun says, "Yeah. Pretty," in this gruff, weirdly honest voice that does something to Beomgyu's insides.
Well, he thinks. Well.
But this well has no water. From there on it's like they both dry up when they think of conversing. Beomgyu moves around the room, texting Taehyun while Yeonjun tries to get ready. The silence feels slightly smothering. In a way, this has never been a problem between them. There had always been grievances to air, comebacks to think of, clarifications to be made. They don't know how to do quiet. It hadn't been weird to tease with the lights off and the slight buzz of alcohol in their system but now it's morning and they have to wear their business faces and it's...off. Like there's something stuck between them, unresolved. (Beomgyu wonders if Taehyun and Kai have some sort of bet going on the hate-bang thing. Had it been that obvious?)
"Um," Beomgyu says, the third time Yeonjun asks him if business casual is okay for an auction. "I think I'll go wait at the restaurant. Eat breakfast. Do some work."
