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It’s a Tuesday afternoon when Himchan finds himself in the park by his apartment, giving his roommate some much needed peace and quiet to work on their thesis while he practices.

He walks about for a moment, it’s a large park and he needs to find the perfect place to set up his janggu, somewhere the grass is dry and where he will be less likely to dirty his new designer jeans.

He is walking off the path that leads around the green space, heading further into the expanse of plant-life and leisure space within it when he sees him.

There’s a boy sitting beneath the shade of a large tree, a canvas on his lap and an assortment of paints laid out beside him on the grass. The image is like something out of a novel or maybe a college brochure, but the kid is decidedly cuter than anyone he’s seen in one of those.

Himchan has seen him around before, on his walks through the park to the café Yongguk works at. He’s toyed with the idea of talking to the guy, introducing himself and maybe asking the boy if he’d be interested in grabbing some coffee (he knows where to get the best Americanos), but the boy always looks so immersed in his painting and Himchan always finds himself unable to interrupt.

Today though, Himchan decides it’s as perfect a place as any to practice and sits a distance away, dropping his bag on the ground before settling on the grass and crossing his legs, testing out the acoustics before he begins a simple rhythm to warm up.

“What are you doing.”

It’s less of a question and more of a statement of irritation, in a voice deeper than he’s expecting, and Himchan’s honestly surprised it came from the boy. He had thought the kid would have been one of those shy artist types, but that impression flies out the window when he’s levelled with a glare.

“Practicing. You don’t mind, do you?”

The kid’s brow only furrows further, darkening his face with increasing annoyance, “This is my spot.”

“This is a public park. I just happened to pick a spot where the,” Himchan flashes a grin then, eyes wandering around the figure’s petite frame, “scenery is nicest.”

Himchan’s expecting a blush, maybe a put-upon scoff before the younger looks away shyly-

“You can take your clanging and infernal noise and admire the scenery elsewhere.”

He’s not expecting that.

“It’s not ‘infernal clanging’, it’s a janggu, a very highly revered traditional instrument- oh, and I’m Himchan, by the way.”

“I didn’t ask.”

Himchan can practically hear the way the boy’s teeth are clenched and he stares for a bit as the other huffs and returns to his canvas, dipping a slender brush into one of the pots of colour beside him.

He watches the way the plush lips emerge from the hard line they’d been set in, parting slightly as a pink tongue comes out to moisten them before it is trapped between pearly teeth in a bout of intense concentration. He takes in the dashes of black the boy’s lashes create, eyes lowered to his art, elegant hands sweeping across the canvas with arcs and dashes.

The boy stops for a second, staring at the expanse of colour in front of him before his face twists into a pout and then a scowl, and then he’s dipping his brush in water before coating it in another colour and quickly getting to work on a section of the board.

So expressive…

With a smirk, Himchan begins another rhythm, one that was quite complicated and that he had mastered quite impressively, if he did say so himself. He peeks at the tree from the corner of his eye, supressing a smile when he sees the boy had stopped painting and was now looking in his direction.

He’s getting lost in showing off when he hears a rustle and the sound of things being thrown into a bag. He blinks, hands stopping their drumming as the boy angrily zips up his bag and picks up his canvas, holding it carefully away from his body as he gathers his things and walks away.

Himchan considers for a moment before he thinks, it, and stows away his drumsticks before picking up and slowly following after the boy.

The kid ends up walking into Himchan’s regular café – a fact that cements their fates as far as Himchan is concerned – and leans against the counter until Yongguk appears to take his order.

A bright smile breaks out against the boy’s face and Himchan even sees a light dusting of pink settle across his cheeks when he spots the man behind the counter.

“Hi, Yongguk-hyung. How are you?”

Yongguk looks at the boy with his familiar gummy smile, “Great, yourself?”

“I’d be better if this did ruin my afternoon.”

Yongguk frowns, already mixing up some frothy, cream-covered candy nightmare of a coffee drink as Himchan surreptitiously peers over from behind the sign advertising new specials.

“What happened?”

Himchan watches with barely concealed envy as the boy shakes his head and smiles widely, eyes disappearing into crescents as he hands over some change and picks up his finished drink.

“It’s fine, just some weirdo in the park with his drum. I’m all better now, hyung. Thanks! I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, good luck with that presentation, by the way!”

As soon as the boy disappears out the door with a friendly wave, Himchan slides out from behind the sign and rushes up to the counter.

“What’s his name?”

Yongguk stares, brow furrowed before he begins wiping down the counter again.

“Hello to you, too.”

“What. Is. His. Name.”

“Who?”

“That guy! The one that just walked out!”

Yongguk pauses then before light dawns in his eyes, “Oh, you’re the weirdo in the park with the drum.”

“I am not!”

Yongguk stares pointedly at the drum in Himchan’s hands. Himchan elects to ignore this.

“Yongguk, what is-”

“His name is Daehyun,” Yongguk says, taking pity on him, “He comes in everyday and orders something different, but always gets a slice of cheesecake on Mondays.”

Himchan slumps against the counter, sighing as he breathes the name.

“I like it. Daehyun. Daaeeehyun. Daehyun-”

“Christ, are you having already? Cool it.”

Yongguk whips up the Americano he knows Himchan is going to demand in a minute and levels him with a stare.

“If you want to get to know him or something, I can try and introduce you. Just…stop being weird, okay?”

Himchan scoffs, “Just what do you think I am, Yongguk?”

*          *          *

Himchan returns to the park at the exact same hour for the next couple days and manages to see Daehyun both times.

The problem is, that’s all he manages. As soon as Himchan arrives, Daehyun will get to packing up his things and disappearing, leaving the elder alone among the trees and the occasional bystanders, who all seem to think he’s some sort of public safety concern.

This time, he makes sure to arrive a little earlier. Based on what Yongguk had told him, Daehyun would usually come by the café after painting in the park, a few hours after class, and accounting for the past few days that put Daehyun at the park at approximately 3 o’clock most afternoons.

Okay, maybe he was starting to see what Jongup meant by “stalkerish”.

He sets up his janggu and warms his wrists up before settling on a favourite rhythm of his. It’s about fifteen minutes later he hears the sound of footsteps and something being dropped on the ground, but he keeps his eyes closed, concentrating on the vibrations of the drum until he comes to the end.

He looks over to where Daehyun is sitting, determinedly looking at his sketchbook and not at Himchan and the impressive show he’d just put on.

“Oh!” Himchan allows his voice to lift slightly, as if in surprise, “Hello again!”

Daehyun’s pencil stops, his eyes finding Himchan before they roll and he goes back to his drawing.

Himchan doesn’t take this personally.

Many people roll their eyes at him in sheer disbelief.

“You know, you look familiar-”

“Do you harass so many people you forget the most recent?”

Himchan laughs, picking up his drum and walking over, plopping down by the tree Daehyun is leaning against.

“I mean, I think I’ve seen you around before that day.”

The younger doesn’t stop sketching but raises his eyes briefly, quirking an eyebrow, “Don’t you walk through this park most days? I’ve seen you.”

Himchan’s ears perk up at this, “You noticed me?”

Daehyun turns slightly red at this but resolutely keeps his gaze on the paper in front of him.

“Look, Yongguk-hyung told me you have some sort of crush on me-”

“That rat bastard-”

“-and because I respect hyung and you somehow convinced him to be your friend, I won’t kick your if you stop with the damn drums and go away.”

Himchan purses his lips, considering. Daehyun is looking at him now, waiting for a response, hair flattened by the snapback that sits atop on his head, jean jacket pushed up to his elbows, and god, even his sneakers are cute, a hint of leopard print on the Jordan’s he’s wearing.

“Why haven’t you left yet?”

Daehyun doesn’t answer immediately, but Himchan is patient and the younger eventually meets him with a determined stare.

“I’m proving a point.”

Himchan leans back on his hands, staring at Daehyun thoughtfully before he risks another question.

“Is it me you hate, or the drums?”

He sees the younger’s flicker towards the janggu a glint of irritation in his orbs and smiles in satisfaction.

“So it is the drums.”

“I-”

Himchan holds up his hands in a peaceful motion and to his surprise, the younger’s jaw snaps shut immediately as he waits for Himchan to speak.

“I admit, I might have gone about this the wrong way, I’m sorry. So, do you wanna get coffee sometime? Or have lunch? Or dinner, whatever really. I promise I won’t bother you with my drums anymore, no matter what you say.”

He winks, smiling, and if he does say so himself he can practically feel the waves of attractiveness rolling off him.

Daehyun frowns, “Are you always this shameless?”

“I’d say no, but you’d probably find someone who’d say otherwise soon enough, so, yes.” He grins, leaning forward slightly, raising a perfectly manicured brow, “Some might say it’s y.”

“No.”

Himchan blinks, “No to the date, or-”

“No, no one finds that y. I’ll meet you at the café at 5. Now go away before I realize how stupid this is and change my mind.”

Himchan flees.

*          *          *

When Daehyun walks into the café later, Himchan is already waiting with a selection of items in front of him: a couple of cookies and smoothies, tea and coffee, and a few desserts.

Daehyun blinks at the full table, sitting down tentatively as he places his bag on the ground.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d want, so I ordered a bunch of stuff. I figured it’d be fine, Yongguk said that Junhong told him you eat like a horse before a famine.”

Daehyun pauses, shaking his head incredulously, “How far does your network go?”

“I tutor Junhongie. Yongguk mentioned you two are roommates. Happy coincidence.”

“Oh my God, you’re that Himchan-hyung?” Daehyun laughs, and Himchan is momentarily mesmerized before he hears exactly what the other is saying, “Junhong’s always-”

Himchan waits.

“ – er, telling me wonderful things about you.”

He’d have to have a word with Junhong later.

Daehyun selects slice of pie and tucks in, making a pleased sound when the berries hit his tongue. Himchan slowly reaches for his coffee, sipping as he admires the way Daehyun eats. Entire mouthfuls disappearing in seconds, half a frappucino and an entire smoothie also gone, in a matter of a few minutes.

It’s beautiful, disturbing, and vaguely terrifying when Himchan thinks about the eventual fate of his fridge.

But he’s getting ahead of himself.

“So, you’re a painter?”

Daehyun nods, “Mostly. You a full-time stalker?”

Himchan groans, “Oh come on, I live around that park!”

“You followed me here that day.”

“How-”

“Hyung told me.”

He’d have to have a word with Yongguk later, too.

“What else did he tell you? Did he mention that photo series I posed for in first year? That -”

“What photo series?”

Himchan stuffs a donut into his mouth.

Daehyun grins, slow and satisfied, and Himchan already tell he’s filing that information away for later, that he’s the type that will cause Himchan a migraine or two, but he kind of wants to feel the ache anyway.

“He told me you weren’t a complete hazard, despite all indications.”

After that, things go reasonably well.

Daehyun spends most of the time scoffing at Himchan’s subtle attempts to seduce him, but at the end of the date Himchan manages to get his number. As the younger’s handing back his phone though, he grabs Himchan’s wrist and tugs the elder closer, staring him dead in the eye in a way that Himchan is mildly embarrassed to admit is turning him on.

“Look, you’re alright. And thanks for the food. But if you’re actually some sort of insufferable , lose my number okay? Trust me, you won’t like it if I have to do it for you.”

As Daehyun walks out with a sinfully sweet smile tossed over his shoulder, Himchan sits there, frozen, until Yongguk comes over to take away the plates littered all over their table.

His friend whistles, “Wildcat, isn’t he?”

Himchan’s still staring after Daehyun, though the art student is now out of sight.

“You didn’t tell me about his temper.”

Yongguk laughs, “You needed me to tell you that?”

Himchan snaps out of his daze then, taking in the café and the students trickling in for late night coffee runs and group study sessions.

“When did you get on the clock, anyway?” he asks, following the elder to the counter.

“’Bout an hour ago. I had to take over a seminar, so I was a little late. Looks like your date went well, though.”

Himchan thinks he should probably be a little concerned about how dopey the smile on his face probably is, but he figures it can’t take much away from his stellar looks.

“It was perfect.”

*          *          *

When Himchan gets home, his roommate Youngjae’s lounging on the couch, typing away at his laptop while he watches a drama and occasionally stuffs a forkful of noodles into his mouth.

“You’re back late,” Youngjae looks him up and down, at the grin on Himchan’s face and raises a brow, “What did you do?”

“Nothing. I just had a date, that’s all. Your hyung is a very sought after guy, you know.”

Youngjae chuckles and Himchan joins him on the couch, stretching his legs out and sighing in satisfaction.

“Who with?”

“His name’s Daehyun. He’s an art senior at the university. He has the most beautiful eyes, they’re always…” he tries to find the right word to describe it, that spark of rage burning in those brown orbs, “simmering.”

Youngjae turns to him then, eyes wide, “Wait, Daehyun? Jung Daehyun?”

“Yeah, you know him?”

“Everyone does. He’s like, the darling of the art department. His work is really popular at student shows, they always sell out of his prints. But seriously, you had a date with him?”

“Yeah. Why, is that weird?”

“Well, kind of. I mean, he says no to like, everyone. Always just focused on his art, and did his own thing. I hear his glare has a radius.”

“Yeah.” Himchan sighs wistfully.

Youngjae turns back to his computer then, picking up his bowl of noodles and stuffing his mouth while sneaking concerned glances Himchan’s way.

It was probably too late for him, anyway.

*          *          *

“You want me.”

“What the are you on about?”

“You like me.”

“Himchan-”

“I know I shouldn’t be surprised, but you put on a good show.”

They’re at a movie; an explosion-and-car-chase-and-y-people-filled action flick and since it’s a Wednesday night, the theatre is almost empty save for a few teenagers in the back. Himchan’s riding on the high from the knowledge that Daehyun had made an exception for him, had said yes to him, and was currently staring at him with that unfairly attractive expression of distaste.

Daehyun rolls his eyes and elbows him, harder than was necessary in Himchan’s opinion, “Not a show. You are a giant irritation.”

“But?”

Daehyun shrugs, picking up a handful of their shared popcorn, “But… I have an appreciation for aesthetic.”

“Is that your pretentious artist way of telling me you think I’m hot?”

A kernel to the eye hurts more than Himchan thinks is fair.

*          *          *

Himchan sits on the grass in the park, hands strumming away at the guitar in his lap, trying out an acoustic version of a song he’d heard earlier. He nods his head along to the beat, eyes closed as he feels the sound filter in through his head. When he’s reached the end and opens his eyes, he nearly falls backwards. Instead, he’s left clutching his chest and calming his racing heart as Daehyun blinks at him.

“That was graceful.”

Himchan shakes his head, reaching to take a swig from the water bottle close by, mumbling as he twists open the cap, “Make some noise or something next time! And you call me a stalker.”

Daehyun doesn’t say anything to that, continuing to examine the guitar before he finally looks at Himchan again.

“I didn’t know you played guitar.”

Himchan can feel the hope in his eyes and he consciously tries to tone it down as he answers as nonchalantly as possible, “You liked it?”

The painter shrugs, “It’s not that terrible racket.”

“I told you, it’s a janggu.”

“And I told you: I didn’t ask.”

To Himchan’s surprise, the younger proceeds to set up beside him, pulling out a half-finished canvas and carefully laying out a selection of paints. Himchan peeks over at the canvas curiously. It’s a cityscape, not what he’s expecting, the style and lines more modern and the colours bright and vibrant.

Daehyun notices him staring and frowns, turning slightly so that the surface is hidden from Himchan’s view.

Himchan sits there, silent and sulking, until Daehyun’s eyes flicker up from the painting, meeting his briefly.

“I didn’t say you had to stop playing.”

He waits for something else, but Daehyun proceeds to ignore him after that, brush already dancing across the textured surface. Himchan begins a melody then, calm and steady like shallow waves on a beach.

He decides not to comment on the soft smile that’s appeared on Daehyun’s face.

*          *          *

They’re dating.

Or something like that, anyway. After two lunches, a dinner, another movie and exactly one impromptu Sunday morning brunch and walk through the park, Daehyun still scowls at him most of the time but Himchan likes to think his reasons have changed from wanting to punch him out of annoyance to wanting to punch him out of adoration.

At least he hopes so. Maybe Daehyun’s just biding his time for the best moment to kill him and leave behind no witnesses.

After a second dinner at a little grill house Himchan is partial to, he walks Daehyun back to his apartment. They haven’t so much as held hands once in the past few weeks, and Himchan doesn’t know if he’s making the right call, but he moves slowly, allowing the younger time and space to step away if he wishes before he gently kisses a soft cheek.

“I had a great time.”

The younger looks up at him, pouty lips pursed thoughtfully, the beanie atop his head resting adorably above prominent ears, and hands hidden inside the large hoodie on his small frame.

“Wanna come in?”

The apartment is small like most of the shoeboxes his peers lived in, but the walls are covered in paintings and prints, there’s a skateboard leaning against the wall by a selection of sneakers, novelty magnets littering the fridge he can see in the kitchen, and a comfy looking couch in front of a TV, game console and controllers sitting haphazardly on the floor.

“Nice place you got he- mmph!”

For a second Himchan thinks he really is about to be killed until he catalogues the soft pressure against his lips, arms winding around his neck and Daehyun’s warm body pressing him against the closed door.

“Mmm, wow, okay,” he speaks between kisses, “Where’s Junhong?”

“Probably at his girlfriend’s. Or Yongguk’s. I don’t know.”

That’s really all Himchan needs to hear, and it seems to be all Daehyun wants to say as their mouths find each other again.

Daehyun’s as aggressive in his kissing as he is with everything else, and Himchan loves it just like he’s come to love everything else, too. They stumble through the apartment before Daehyun leads him to a door, shoving it open and then closed as they fall in before he pushes Himchan onto the bed in the middle of the room.

Daehyun’s eyes are burning into his, narrowed and painted with lust and Himchan can feel a zing run through him at the promise there.

“Knew you’d be a little firecracker…”

Daehyun crawls onto the bed, shoving him back down with a hand on his chest, “Shut up.”

“Fine. You’ll be making enough noise for the both of us soon enough.”

They tussle for a bit, nipping at skin, hands tugging off clothes until they’re both left in ped jeans sliding down slender hips. Himchan grabs both of Daehyun wrists in a hand, pinning them above the younger’s head and using his other hand to grip the painter’s chin.

He’s expecting the younger to squirm free again, to fight for dominance, but instead Daehyun’s entire body melts into him, a whimper escaping his throat as Himchan at a swollen lower lip.

They make-out for a bit just like that, Daehyun eventually kicking off his pants and taking Himchan’s along with them. He stares accusingly when Himchan pulls out a familiar square packet and a tiny tube before tossing the clothes away.

Himchan laughs at the expression; dropping placating kisses on the younger’s cheeks.

“What? They’re coming in handy now, aren’t they?”

Himchan suddenly flips Daehyun over, leaning down over him before gently sliding his fingers through the strands of the younger’s brown hair, tugging slightly until Daehyun is looking up ahead. He chuckles at the tiny gasp and the way Daehyun’s expression seems to shift, teeth sinking into a pink lower lip and eyes darkening minutely when he sees the reflection they make in the mirror than stands in the corner of the room.

Himchan grins against the shell of Daehyun’s ear, “I figure, all things considered, you’re quite a visual creature.”

Daehyun’s moan is music to Himchan’s ears, and when the elder continues to tease, the glare he’d come to love so much returns, albeit a slightly watered down version.

“Come on, Dae. Where’d all your words go?”

*          *          *

Himchan wakes to warmth, a body against his side and the feeling of soft lips resting against his neck.

Daehyun in the embrace of sleep is a very different Daehyun to the one who scowls at 99% of people during his waking hours. The younger’s lashes cast long shadows against his cheeks in the morning sunlight, hand curled against Himchan’s chest instead of clenched into a fist.

Himchan through the soft hair against his shoulder, smiling when the younger sighs and nudges against the hand subconsciously, slowly blinking awake when Himchan continues to scratch at his scalp.

Daehyun rubs his eyes, and lifts his head slightly.

“Morning, hyung.”

“Morning, Dae.”

The painter stretches, wincing slightly as his muscles protest, “What time is it?”

Himchan twists his head slightly, looking at the clock on the nightstand, “Six.”

Daehyun stares at him blankly before whacking his chest and turning away.

“Oh, you! Like I don’t wake up early enough every other day, never mind after the exhaustive torture that was last night.”

The younger grumbles as he tugs the sheets around him and settles against the pillow once more, ignoring Himchan as he spoons him and presses apologetic kisses against his neck.

“Come on, you definitely weren’t calling it torture last night, if I remember right.”

“I hate you.”

“I know. You really hated me last night. Can’t wait for us to hate each other some more-”

Himchan finds himself unceremoniously kicked off the bed, rubbing his back as he sits on the floor of Daehyun’s bedroom.

“We still on for dinner?”

“Get out!”

Himchan groans as he sits up, slowly tugging on his jeans and pulling on his shirt, eyeing the smaller figure on the bed, stubbornly turned away. He walks towards Daehyun once he’s fully dressed and bends cautiously, kissing the other’s exposed forehead when a lack of projectiles are thrown his way.

“I’ll see you later, Daehyunnie.”

As Himchan’s toeing on his shoes at the entryway, he hears a voice yell from the bedroom.

“If you’re late for dinner, I’ll string you up outside by those ridiculous suspenders you wore last week!”

This was truly the beginning of something beautiful. 

Thanks for reading!

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