At twenty-four years old, Yeonjun celebrates his second wedding anniversary. Three days later, he meets Soobin.
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Yeonjun asks to borrow Beomgyu's clothes again, and he lets Beomgyu dress and undress him like a Barbie. Yeonjun's surprised to find that he actually has some preferences when it comes to this style of clothing, but he keeps his mouth shut and trusts Beomgyu's judgment.
"You have a really good body, hyung, seriously," Beomgyu says, shamelessly watching Yeonjun change out of a fifth rejected outfit.
Yeonjun grimaces. "Thanks."
"I know you don't think so, but seriously, everyone else does." Beomgyu says so as he looks through his closet, heaving piles of unfolded clothes out of the way to find what he's looking for. His hands look so dainty against the mounds of fabric, his bones delicate like a baby bird's. Beomgyu could be perfect, if he tried. But, much like Jimin, he refuses to.
Maybe Yeonjun would be able to live more freely if he looked more like them. If he didn't feel the need to make up for all the ways his body is wrong, too strong, too alpha-like.
"It's not important what everyone else thinks about my body," Yeonjun says. He's already been claimed, anyway.
"That's true," Beomgyu says. "What matters is what you think. So, why don't you choose your outfit?"
"What." "I'm tired," Beomgyu groans, abandoning his closet and flopping face-first onto his bed. "You do it."
"No! You said you'd help me!" "I'll help by telling you if you look stupid. And, right now, you do!"
So, Yeonjun's digging through Beomgyu's mountain of clothes, trying on pairs of pants and tops, searching for something slightly more subdued than the outfit from his first night out, but still appropriate for the occasion. He chooses wide-legged jeans with a few artfully placed holes. He searches through Beomgyu's tee-shirts, hoping for something graphic and cool. He finds one with a design he likes, but it's slightly small, ending a few centimeters above his pants.
He meets Beomgyu's eyes in the mirror, waiting for Beomgyu to fulfill his promise and tell him he looks stupid. But Beomgyu is silent, and his face gives nothing away.
"I think I like this," Yeonjun says softly, staring at the sliver of exposed skin.
Beomgyu's smile blooms like a flower in a false spring. "I love it."
Yeonjun doesn't want to give himself blisters in Beomgyu's shoes again, so he puts on his own although they don't match the outfit.
"No one's gonna be looking at your feet anyway," Beomgyu assures him. "It's dark in there."
They head to a pizza place where they'll meet Soobin. It's dirty, dark, and smells delicious. A group of college-aged girls sit at the table next to them, speaking in English. Yeonjun taps his feet together under the table, waiting for Soobin.
But it's not Soobin who walks in — it's Taehyun.
Beomgyu jumps out of his seat, then abruptly slows down to a cool, relaxed saunter. He hugs Taehyun, tilting his head back as Taehyun presses his nose into Beomgyu's neck. They speak softly to each other, smiley and rosy-cheeked, then head back to the table.
