Saturday. After a long—albeit productive—week of meetings and phone calls and paperwork, it finally came. Kibum couldn’t be happier.

He woke up at 11 after late-night drinks with his colleagues the night before, which progressed to a round of competitive karaoke with another colleague and his direct superior (he won, of course). He managed to stagger through the door at around 3 am. 

After taking in some water and aspirin, he lazed in bed and vegetated for another half an hour. 

His Chinese takeout came at around 2 pm, at which point he had already seen 2.5 episodes of a Chinese costume drama that he had tuned into because he was just not feeling up to watching ambitious parents going at each other's throats. He felt like having something substantial instead of just tiny bites that never really filled one's stomach, so he went for tangsuyuk and jjajangmyeon instead of his usual chicken order. No chicken for now.

Damn. Can't they serve these things in smaller sizes? He thought irritably. His mind helpfully supplied how the amount of food was just enough for two. 

He ended up eating only about a quarter of the pork dish and less of the noodles. He looked down at the leftovers and decided to just repurpose them on the next day. 

If only… 

Nope. 

He picked up a pint of gianduja ice cream from the e-Mart across the street and had no trouble finishing it. 

***

"Kim Kibum, what have you done to my baby?" Jonghyun's scandalized voice greeted him as soon as he double-tapped his wireless buds. 

"Hello to you, too, Jjong," he replied languidly as he took a sip of the pinot. Not bad. He reached out a wet hand to shut off the faucet. "How are your finals?"

"Brutal, but I think I'll live to see another semester. Seriously, though, you both looked hot in the clip. My Taeminnie's all grown up. Huhu."

Suddenly alert, Kibum sat up with a splash. "What are you talking about?" 

"I sent it to you on Kakao—"

"Talk to you later, Jjong," Kibum interrupted the man, cutting the call immediately. 

Kibum rose from the tub and strode dripping toward the sink where his phone was. He clicked on the Kakao Talk icon then on Jjong's new message. 

. It was worse than he thought. 

Beside him, Taemin stalked with a deliberate feline grace that was at odds with the airiness of his ensemble. His waist was clearly on display by the cinch of the sash. His lithe legs were emphasized instead of cloaked by his loose pants. Owing to his innate ability to catch the wind when he walked, the skirt-like clothing billowed behind him and flirted with Kibum's slim, dark-clad leg. 

By contrast, Kibum's black and red suit was sleek because of its slim lines and more flagrantly y in concept, but he looked oddly delicate in it. Beside Taemin's purposeful saunter, his gait was light, almost tentative. And while Taemin's coiled sensuality was as subtle as a roundhouse kick in the face, Kibum's was a thing that emanated from him—an ism that was made no less potent by the fact that it was more felt than seen. 

They looked like the perfect foils for each other. 

Kibum would process the aesthetics of their catwalk, but much, much later. At that very moment, however, nothing registered to him but Taemin's heavy stare, which proved to be detrimental to his pulse and breath.  

When Taemin stopped to frame his face, Kibum remembered exactly how it felt. He watched as Taemin's eyes slid closed as he brushed his lips tenderly against his forehead, and Kibum shivered as he clutched at the granite of his sink. 

Then the soft touch turned hard against his jaw, and Taemin's soft expression evaporated into a steely smoulder as he s an arm around Kibum, throwing his body into an arch, and dragged the thumb of his other hand harshly across Kibum's mouth. As his hand descended to cup that delicate neck in a deceptively soft caress, Taemin swiveled his head toward the audience, his face downright evil. 

The vermillion lip color looked obscene against Kibum’s pale skin. Kibum's bared throat was wanton in its surrender. Kibum’s face, nearly unpaintable in its confused lust. 

"," he breathed out reverently.

The word repeated itself in a litany in his head as he wiped the mirror and the sink clean a few minutes later. He didn't need this guilt on top of everything else, but there you go. 

***

Kibum resolved to be a bit more virtuous after the ice cream and his aborted soak (among other things), so he changed into a light tracksuit so he could run a few laps at the park near his apartment at dusk when the heat had somehow abated. But before he could head out the door, his phone started ringing again. 

Kibum immediately tapped his airpods and said, "I can explain, Jjong—"

"Kim Kibum—sshi?"

The female voice sounded familiar.

"Um, sorry. Yes, this is Kim Kibum. Who—"

"It's Choi Sooyoung."

Wow. He really didn't expect her to follow through on that call. 

"Kibum-sshi, I know that this is on such short notice, but I was hoping that maybe you and Taemin-sshi are free for dinner tonight? It had been a long week, and I was thinking of just staying home, but then I thought that I really want to just hang out somewhere quiet with people I don't regularly see at w