DaiShun (The Boyfriend)

Chapter 25: Melodies of Love

In the month that had passed since Dai and Shun officially began dating, their relationship had blossomed in ways neither of them had expected. What had started as a tentative bond had grown into something deep, rich, and all-encompassing, a connection that filled every part of their lives with warmth and color.

The change was evident to anyone who looked at them. Dai’s golden retriever energy seemed to shine even brighter when he was with Shun, his smile wider, his laughter more frequent. Shun, who had always carried a quiet reserve, now seemed to radiate a gentle warmth that hadn’t been there before, as if Dai’s love had thawed something within him. Together, they were like two pieces of a puzzle that had finally found their place, fitting together perfectly in a way that made everything else seem more vibrant and alive.

They had quickly fallen into a rhythm that felt natural and easy. Most mornings, Dai would show up at Shun’s apartment with breakfast, a grin on his face as he presented Shun with a coffee and a pastry. "Good morning, my love," he’d say, his voice full of affection, and Shun would smile, his heart swelling with the simple joy of Dai’s presence. They’d sit together at Shun’s small kitchen table, sharing the meal and talking about their plans for the day. It was a quiet, domestic routine, but it filled Shun with a sense of contentment he’d never known before.

At college, they were inseparable. Dai, with his exuberant personality, made sure everyone knew they were together, his arm often slung around Shun’s shoulders as they walked across campus. Shun, who had once shied away from public displays of affection, found himself leaning into Dai’s touch, feeling a warmth spread through him whenever Dai was close. Their friends had quickly gotten used to seeing them together, often teasing them about how "disgustingly cute" they were.

But there was something undeniably sweet about the way they were together. They had their own little rituals, small things that had become special to them. Like how Dai would always save a seat for Shun in their shared classes, placing his backpack on the chair beside him and waving Shun over with an excited smile. Or how Shun would quietly slip a note into Dai’s hand during lectures, a small piece of paper with a doodle or a sweet message that never failed to make Dai blush. It was these little things, these tiny acts of love, that made their relationship feel so special, so uniquely theirs.

During breaks between classes, they’d often find a quiet spot on campus to sit together, whether it was under a tree in the quad or on a bench overlooking the lake. They’d talk about anything and everything—about music, about their dreams for the future, about the things that made them laugh. Sometimes, they’d just sit in comfortable silence, Shun’s head resting on Dai’s shoulder as they watched the world go by. It was in these moments that Shun felt most at peace, as if nothing else mattered except being there, in that moment, with Dai.

Their dates were a mix of spontaneity and comfort. Sometimes, they’d go out for a meal or a movie, Dai always insisting on holding Shun’s hand throughout. Other times, they’d stay in, cooking dinner together at Shun’s apartment. Dai had a habit of getting flour everywhere when they baked, and Shun would laugh as he wiped it off Dai’s nose, a fondness in his eyes that spoke volumes. After dinner, they’d curl up on the couch, Dai’s head resting in Shun’s lap as they watched a movie, the world outside fading away as they lost themselves in each other’s presence.

On weekends, they’d explore the city, discovering new cafes, bookstores, and parks. Dai loved taking pictures of Shun, capturing the moments when Shun’s guard was down, his smile soft and genuine. Shun, in turn, would take pictures of Dai when he wasn’t looking, capturing the quiet moments when Dai’s energy softened into something more tender, more introspective. They had started a scrapbook together, filling it with photos, ticket stubs, and little mementos from their time together. It was a testament to how much their relationship had grown, how many memories they had already created in such a short time.

At night, when the world was quiet and still, they’d talk for hours, lying side by side in bed. Dai loved to tell Shun about his dreams, his plans for the future, his excitement palpable in the darkness. Shun would listen, his hand resting on Dai’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. Sometimes, Shun would open up about his past, about the things that had hurt him, the things that still haunted him. Dai would listen with a quiet intensity, his hand never leaving Shun’s, his presence a constant source of comfort.

But it wasn’t always serious. They laughed together—a lot. Dai had a way of making Shun laugh until his sides hurt, with his silly jokes, his exaggerated impressions, and his playful teasing. Shun loved to tease Dai right back, enjoying the way Dai’s cheeks would flush pink whenever Shun flirted with him. Their banter was easy, effortless, a dance of words that left them both grinning like fools.

Their relationship had become a sanctuary, a safe place where they could be themselves, free from the expectations and pressures of the outside world. It was a place where they could be vulnerable, where they could share their hopes and fears without judgment. In each other, they had found someone who understood, someone who cared, someone who loved them for exactly who they were.

In college, they moved as a unit, seamlessly blending their lives together. Dai’s friends had quickly adopted Shun into their group, and Shun’s friends had done the same with Dai. They were often the center of attention at gatherings, their chemistry so natural and undeniable that it drew others in. But even in a crowd, they were each other’s focus, their gazes always finding one another, their hands always finding their way together.

As the days turned into weeks, Shun found himself thinking about Dai more and more. He’d catch himself smiling at random moments, his mind drifting to something Dai had said or done. And when they were apart, he’d miss Dai with a kind of ache that was new to him, a longing that made the moments they reunited all the sweeter.

Dai, too, had changed. His playful energy was still there, but it was tempered by a deeper, more grounded love that had grown within him. He’d find himself watching Shun when he wasn’t looking, marveling at how lucky he was to have found someone so perfect for him. Shun had become his world, and every day, he found himself falling more and more in love.

Their love was like a soft melody, a song that played in the background of their lives, bringing warmth and light to everything they did. It was the kind of love that made even the mundane moments feel special, the kind of love that made life feel fuller, richer, more beautiful. And as they walked hand in hand through the campus, through the city, through life, they knew they had found something rare, something precious, something that would last a lifetime.