I knew we put this off way longer than we had first expected, but it wasn’t until half a year later that I first stepped into Baekhyun’s new apartment. He’d described the place to me in fragments numerous times, but these dispersed pieces of information could only allow me to imagine what the place would be like. A lot like home I imagined; and my guess was quite accurate.

His place was somewhat like an abstract concept to me, but it wasn’t like I had no input. Over the past six months we’d been hanging out again, old shopping habits resurfaced in our lives. Not only did they involve grocery shopping to salvage the emptiness that was my fridge and furniture or ornaments shopping for his place. Some of his choices had been a complete mystery to me.

“I need to get an iron.”

“I saved up enough for a Dyson fan.”

“Look at that Dota cushi-”No.

Bed sets with lilac floral prints. A painting of sunflowers. Fan-made magnets of Kyungsoo in five different films to stick on his new refrigerator. A small wine cooler despite not being a drinker himself, but apparently he was expecting future parties at his place. A part of me believed he mumbled something about not letting guys camp over at my place anymore.

So what I’d seen of the house was basically chunks of random appliances and furnishing. There was a virtual map in my mind, or where the bathroom was. The kitchen. The bedroom. The couch that he was ever so proud of.

I didn’t know why I dressed up to go over to Baek’s place. It was a new summer dress I got, and something I wouldn’t have remotely thought of wearing had Taeyong and Yeri not unanimously put it in my online shopping cart during our lunch.

The first thing I did when I entered his apartment?

I smiled.

Or perhaps it was more like a silly grin, because that was what I saw in my own reflection within Baek’s twinkling eyes. His eyebrows arched with expectation, his body swaying on the balls of his feet as he watched me manoeuvre myself through the space. Our gazes held the same fervent curiosity. I was curious about how Baek had made his home, and he was curious about my judgment.

The shelves to his apartment were exactly like we had envisioned, neatly packed with the films and games we had promised to enjoy together. He’d added a massage chair in the living room (which I internally gaped at, because that obviously meant his company revenues were skyrocketing this year), something that we had joked about in our lofty high school dreams. His toilet was an embarrassingly bold display of skincare products that I thought he didn’t need. The kitchen was highly befitting of his style, well equipped and professional. I could almost imagine the cuisines that would be borne from here.

What got me to stretch my grin even wider, though, was the bedroom.

It was all too familiar.

“It looks exactly like your old house,” I said, only to realise that his hand was still holding mine as he led me through the door with a smile that mirrored my own.

It wasn’t entirely the same, but the room truly bore a strong resemblance to what Baekhyun had when he was still living with his mother. Not the female idol posters or Lego figurines anymore, but more like a more mature version of someone who simple replaced a few things in his own room as he grew up. There was a very similar work desk that looked just like the one we had used for overnight homework sessions in high school. A swivel chair that looked suspiciously like a gaming chair, and I suppose my guess was right when I clicked on his keyboard and it flashed in rainbow colours. His distinctively adorable string of chuckles escaped his lips when I gave him an are-you-kidding-me-look. He’d brought his old CD player over from his house, so that was reminiscent of old times definitely.

“I’m so going to hijack it again and put in that new SHINee album I like,” I declared.

He nodded at my words, but we only held our hands tighter as we caught on the implicit meaning of that.

I was going to come by again for sure.

The walls were painted the same colour as his old place, and the sunflower painting we got was hanging above his bed now. The lilac bedsheets looked amazingly neat as well. He probably got tips from Xiumin to make his bed this meticulously.

When we returned to the living room to settle on that oh-too-comfortable-couch, Baek nudged me in the arm.

“So?”

“What?”

“About this place,” he said, awaiting my verdict.

He didn’t need me to say it, I was quite certain of that. He knew I liked the place, and that I was vicariously proud of it.

“It feels like home.” Even the Dota cushions (that he sneakily went back to purchase).

Baekhyun beamed with relief, pulling me into an embrace that was a lot less hesitant and abashed than usual. It felt almost like gratefulness as the tips of his fingers hung onto my back, letting every ounce of sincerity course through his touch. I put my arms around him as well.

Cheeks still on my shoulder, Baek whispered the question into my ear. I could hear his voice trembling.

As I said, those were words we put off for so long.

“Would you move in with me again?”

Just that this time, it’s his turn to ask.

----

It was Baekhyun’s goal today to impress Xiumin with his wine chiller, because the latter was the obvious connoisseur of the group. I reminded him that it didn’t matter how cool his chiller was because Xiumin cared more about the bottles in them than the actual case. Baek scoffed and insisted that his plans would still work despite the cheap bottles of Moet and dessert wines he’d filled it with.

Meanwhile, I was busy hanging up decorations in the living room and setting t