Kim Wonsik is fairly sure he fell in love with Taekwoon the moment he laid eyes on him. Months before the first official meeting at Wonjochogajib, passing on Rodeo Street on his way to the subway station. He can still remember the soft black hair falling into the pretty stranger’s eyes, his round cheeks pink from the early autumn chill, his delicate voice as he softly sings along to a song Wonsik doesn’t know. He’s the type that falls for strangers easily in passing; chipper cashiers, kind waiters with cute smiles, attentive baristas, but something about the softly singing boy in the leather jacket makes butterflies come to life in his belly.

So, when that same guy trudges into the local Sinsa-dong samgyeopsal restaurant and over to where their party of five is crowded around a grilling table, Wonsik nearly has a heart attack on the spot. Time seems to slow down as his passing crush shrugs out of his leather jacket and drops into the only remaining seat, between Hakyeon and himself. ”This is it,” He thinks, ”This is how I ing die.” Crammed between one of his best friends and the prettiest human being he’s ever laid eyes on, in a samgyeopsal restaurant, on a Thursday evening.

It’s nearly 10 PM and the pretty brunette, or Jung Taekwoon as he’s introduced, is the last to have arrived for their late dinner. It’s the first time they’ve tried this, all of them invited out by their mutual friend Cha Hakyeon. Wonsik only knows him and Lee Hongbin, who works at the Galleria Department Store down the street. But, Hongbin seems to know Lee Jaehwan from the Anime/Japanese Imports Store, and Jaehwan knows Han Sanghyuk, who works at the Athletic Store. Taekwoon appears to be the only isolated one, but they all know Hakyeon, either from constantly running into each other or from the hair salon where Hakyeon works.

All of them seem to get on easily enough, though it helps that they all know each other in passing. Wonsik has seen them all nearly every day now for the past year on his way to and from work at the local music store. Most notably Taekwoon, who is apparently a line chef at a nearby western restaurant. At least according to Hakyeon, who does most of Taekwoon’s talking for him. The latter is very withdrawn, quiet, and maybe even a little reserved. Wonsik feels a little stiff sitting beside him, even despite his natural warmth and outgoing charm.

It’s needless to say that Taekwoon, in his ever reserved and imposing glory makes the previously rowdy group of guys settle considerably after joining them. He exchanges brief quiet, conversation with Hakyeon every so often, but mostly remains quietly listening and observing as the other five converse about a vast array of topics, never seeming to be able to settle on any one subject. Cheeks pink, Wonsik tries his hardest not to pay a noticeable amount of attention to Taekwoon beside him and fails miserably.

Normally Wonsik would have no problem interacting, but with a glaring three year between them and his general unease thanks to his crush on the older male, he constantly finds himself slipping up. From awkwardly trailing exchanges to nearly spilling on Taekwoon at least four times, his clumsiness is no help either. ”Real smooth, Kim Wonsik.” He scolds himself but ultimately has a great time with the group of six, despite the crippling anxiety in such close proximity to his crush. Nearing midnight, the group finds themselves headed to the nearby subway station and pairing off in their respective directions, leaving only Wonsik, Taekwoon, and Hakyeon on the train.

”Please see Wonsik-ah to his stop, Taekwoonie~!” Was all the eldest had said before leaving the pair alone, bound for the next two stops in a semi-uncomfortable silence. Or maybe that was just on Wonsik’s part, for Taekwoon seemed content enough, one headphone in his ear as he listened to something on a dated mp3 player. Wonsik is suddenly reminded of the first time he’d ever seen him. The red tee shirt and the leather jacket, the silver necklace resting at his chest, the earrings in his ears and the headphones blasting an unrecognizable song. He recalls the prominent nose, pouty upper lip, the long bangs in his eyes and the ever soft, melodic voice. He hopes Taekwoon would sing along again like he had the first time. He doesn’t.

Two stops later Wonsik is rising out of his seat as the train nears the platform, fighting the urge to say something stupid or revealing, only to look back and find Taekwoon sitting a bit more upright, eyes trained on him. ”Huh?” He offers dumbly, cheeks reddening again. The tiniest of grins crinkles the elder’s eyes and the corner of his mouth turns up, ”I said, josimhi deul-eoga.” repeats Taekwoon and Wonsik could have died on the spot.

With butterflies fluttering furiously in his gut, Wonsik nods eagerly to the elder boy. ”Hyeong do.” It’s a bit daring, referring to Taekwoon so familiarly so shortly after meeting, but it doesn’t feel off-putting for either of them and the latter just nods his assurance. And in those final moments pulling up to the platform, emboldened by a sudden ridiculous burst of confidence, Wonsik whips a pen out of his pocket as the door to the train car opens and the bell announces the name of his stop. Taking the elder boy’s hand, he scribbles his cell phone number along the length of Taekwoon’s thumb.

It’s a fairly easy exchange, the older boy doesn’t fight the pull of his hand and though his eyebrows are furrowed when Wonsik looks up at him, he doesn’t seem offended at his forwardness. Eyes crinkling into half moons, Wonsik offers a sly, genuine smile, ”Let me know that you got home, hyeong.” He insists with confidence, before slipping out the closing doors of the train and just narrowly missing his stop. Watching the door close and the train beginning to pull away from the station, he can see Taekwoon inside, staring down at the phone number written in blue ink on his hand without any discernable emotion on his face.

The hoard of butterflies begin their incessant fluttering once more at just the sight of him, continuing even after the train is gone and the elder boy is no longer in sight. Then just like that, all the confidence flees him and Wonsik finds himself crouching in the middle of the crowded subway platform, his cheeks aflame and a listless whine tearing from his throat. How adolescent, he scolds himself, though he can’t help the boyish grin and the bounce in his step as he makes his way to his studio/officetel.

His face burns hot halfway back to his building and the butterflies are restless even long after he’s reached his apartment. He doesn’t actually expect Taekwoon to text him, especially with how much time passes before his phone finally beeps, but he does. ”I made it home. -Jung Taekwoon.” Is all the message says, but Wonsik still loses his damn mind.

A little over a week later Hakyeon invites the six of them to Chaeseondang, a hot-pot restaurant about five blocks away from the last place. It’s a quaint corner shop across from a boba cafe with ample seating and a good atmosphere. Like the first time, everyone is already seated and fully immersed in conversation by the time Taekwoon arrives. But this time he greets them more enthusiastically than the first and gets a warmer reception in return.

Their seating arrangement is different than the time at the samgyeopsal jib, but somehow Taekwoon finds himself seated once again beside Kim Wonsik. The latter immediately clams up, covering it miserably, visibly tensing as the elder boy sits down beside him. Settling in between the two ‘93 liners, Taekwoon shrugs out of his coat and fishes a pair of chopsticks out of the utensil box in the center of the table.

Wonsik nearly spills his water all over them both trying to make room for him, much to Taekwoon’s amusement. It takes the younger man a good five minutes before he settles back into the comfortable flow of conversation. Everyone talking over one another, the subject changing like the scanning of radio channels from topic to topic and never settling on one for very long. Over shabu shabu and beer, Taekwoon listens contently, inputting softly every so often the conversation slows his direction, but mostly enjoying listen to the others raving so enthusiastically.

From the corner of his eye, he can see Wonsik looking at him mindfully whenever he begins to speak. Taekwoon isn’t the talking type, he doesn’t enjoy carrying the conversation, preferring to listen and add on comfortably. But, everyone dials back a bit whenever he decides to contribute to the conversation, hushing up enough that everyone can hear his soft voice. And, Wonsik more than anyone seems to hang on every word.

Particularly when from across the table Hakyeon asks after his weekend Hongdae hobby and if he’d they’d see him by the Free Market. It gets them started on their history, how they’d met there years ago, Hakyeon selling the candles he made as a hobby and Taekwoon playing covers on his keyboard. Quietly Taekwoon explains his singing/songwriting hobby, a shyness he’d yet to display making its first appearance in the form the flush blooming over his round cheeks.

Everyone is surprised to learn this about him, but Wonsik can’t help but find it fitting. After all the first time he’d ever laid eyes on Taekwoon had been that autumn evening, drawn by the soft melody he’d been singing along to as they passed on the street. Wonsik too lives for music, spending his nights and weekends composing songs and performing on the underground circuit as rapper Ravi in his spare time. He finds it fateful they both happen to love music, but thinks it better to keep the overwhelming sentiment to himself, hoping that maybe he’d get to hear him again soon.

Over the next several weeks the six of them have many more meetups. There are many more galbi jibs, hot pot restaurants, and soju tents. Despite their differences, the group of six seem to balance each other out well. Wonsik finds himself growing close with each of them.

He gets to know Hongbin a little better than he previously had and despite how tense and judgemental he’d come off, he finds the two of them to be very similar. After relaxing into their friend group a bit more Hongbin turns out to be a lot funnier and much more laid back than when they’d first met.

Hyuk, who’d at first tiptoed— especially with Hakyeon and Taekwoon— about his general personality eventually grows comfortable and settles in as their group’s resident bratty maknae, who all his hyeongs adore despite his sass and aggressive affection.

Jaehwan, like Wonsik, is a mood maker of the group. Silly and loud from the start, Jaehwan manages to surprise him with his depth and dedication as a friend. He always knows the right thing to do or say when things seem to be going astray. Ravi comes to value both his nonsense antics and his more sober attitude as they grow closer and is glad not to have to carry the atmosphere of their social outings by himself.

Hakyeon, the eldest of their little group, is a constant support to Wonsik that he becomes eternally grateful for. Though sometimes overly affectionate, Hakyeon manages to endear him again and again with his unwavering support and dedication. Jokingly called the mom of their group, the eldest looks after them all with the dedication of a parent.

Jung Taekwoon though is another story. Despite the closer and more comfortable they’d become— in their group, but also with each other— the initial attraction that Wonsik first felt for him still has yet to subside. As they all grow closer the elder becomes less stonefaced, loosening up and becoming more comfortable with everyone. He becomes more playful, often teasing and picking on the younger members of their little group. Ravi, of course, is not exempt from his newfound antics but their closeness didn’t seem to make his attraction to Taekwoon diminish in the least.

He’d thought for sure it would pass with time. That they would grow closer and he would begin to see Taekwoon for who he is as a human being and less as an attractive person he’d seen one night in passing that had caught his eye. But, the longer Ravi looks he learns more and more about the elder boy and can’t stop the unsettling ache of longing that fills him up whole. At the start, the others (Hakyeon aside), see Taekwoon like a blank slate.

They don’t notice his little ticks. His clenched jaw, or the quirk at the corner of his mouth, the way he bows his head when he gets embarrassed or shy, the cheeky streak of competitive rebelliousness in his eyes. But, Wonsik sees into him. Sees pinprick flashes of temper, burning hot and red, lighting him up like fire. And, while all others see the reserved, unfaltering surface, Ravi sees into him and colors him blue with all the aching attentiveness.

Taekwoon, on the other hand, thinks of Wonsik sort of like the sun. Ever bright and inviting, everyone that meets him feels welcome in his all-encompassing light. Even Taekwoon feels it, like rays of sunshine, in all the creaking, dark corners of himself and can’t help but feel the warmth stirring up all the old, numb emotions buried deep in places that Taekwoon’s sure he’d forgotten.

He likes to think the affection between him and the younger male is just that— affection. Taekwoon never intends to take advantage of that, keeping himself at arm’s length. But, then they get closer and he finds himself reveling in the light that is Kim Wonsik. He does his damnedest trying not to look long at him— as if Wonsik were really the sun, too bright and too hot, the lasting effects bound to stay with Taekwoon long after he’s gone. And yet he sees him— like the sun, even without looking. He’s happy basking in Wonsik’s light from a distance and feels cold in his absence, but he never looks at him, full with fear of stinging his eyes— projecting his feelings on all of Ravi’s actions— and risk getting burned.

The pair of them do the same song and dance for weeks before fate seems to intertwine them once more. Wonsik is making his way through Hongdae on a weekend before the winter weather begins to properly set in, on his way to set up for a performance with the rest of his underground crew, when he hears that voice again. Sure enough, there is Taekwoon— bundled up to his chin in the late autumn chill— hunched over a keyboard and microphone. Wonsik can’t stop himself from getting sidetracked, even if it means running late to his stage setup and when Taekwoon finishes his song he’s sure to greet him with his sunlight warmth and invite him to his show later th