x

"How did you find this place?" 

Fei's got a proud smile on her face, and Chansung is drawn to the way she glows. "I have a client who always wants to be the first to try our specials, and I knew he had this loft... so he gets a meal for free, and you get to use all this." Fei gestures around her to the wide and spacious living room with its high ceiling and the stairs in the corner leading to a mezzanine. 

The walls around them are white, with little to no decoration; it seems like the loft is used sometimes but not inhabited. There’s also a kitchen and a toilet for guests on the first floor. The kitchen is separated from the living room by a benchtop, its surface made of granite, two tall stools under that. Behind the kitchen cabinets and sink the wall is a pale olive green, the cabinets icy white with their details in light brown. Under the stairs there is a shelf whose niches are mostly empty, but there are a few books, magazines and souvenirs that tell of trips around the world. The mezzanine is a suite with a king-size bed and glass doors to a large balcony that makes Chansung slightly envious but also glad he has the chance to work there for his project.

"You're amazing," Chansung kisses his girlfriend, savoring the smile that's still there, the smile that now tugs at his face. 

"I'm glad you appreciate it," she teases him, hands on his chest, fingers warm through the cotton fabric of his sky blue shirt. "Maybe one day we'll get a place like this..." she trails off, her cheeks coloring at the implications in that sentence. 

Chansung shakes his head as he puts her fringe behind her ear, the motion known to get Fei to look at him. He also likes how it frames her face. "Ours will be better. And we'll make good use of it."

She smiles at him, but it turns playful as her eyes light up with wonder. “So you do have plans...” She moves one step away from him before he can get a good look at her face when she says that. They might be just having a casual conversation, but she might also be implying things. The latter wouldn’t bother him at all. 

Chansung could humor her with more of his ideas for the future, but that will have to wait for when they are alone again. The intercom has rung, and once he checks it, he sees two familiar faces on the screen. The loft’s owner must have had reasons for the extra security, and it comes in handy. “Hey there! Come up,” he says through the speakers.

When he looks around for Fei, he spots her in the kitchen, checking something in the cabinets. Even though she’s wearing heels, she still has to tiptoe to find what she wants, but she doesn’t reach for it. She just nods and closes the cabinet. 

“What were you looking for?” Chansung asks, his voice tinged with amusement he can’t conceal. He knows better than to tease Fei about her height, but it’s one thing he loves about them being a couple. It has led to interesting moments between them in their own kitchen, or rather, the kitchen at Fei’s house, which has kind of become Chansung’s second home over time.

Fei also knows him too well, though. She can see what’s going through his head just by the look on his face. She just rolls his eyes at him, but she also accepts it when Chansung pulls her into his arms again. “Plates and napkins. I left sandwiches in the fridge in case you get hungry.”

She does know him too well. Chansung’s smile is wide, his hands sliding up her back while Fei’s hands rest on his arm and shoulder. “Is it that special recipe you don’t have at the restaurant because I told you I’d eat there all the time if you did?”

“Yeah. Just don’t tell your friends that.” Fei is smiling though, and upon his confused look she elaborates. “I don’t need anyone backing you up when you try to convince me to put that in the menu again.” 

Chansung chuckles softly before he leans in to smell at her hair, his nose caressing her temple. “I guess you really don’t want me around,” he whispers, obviously joking. It’s worth the way Fei moves closer to him, her nails digging briefly through the fabric of his shirt. 

“That’s only because you keep smothering me,” she says, her voice also low, playing along as Chansung makes use of the fact that they’re still close to the cabinets, under which is the sink and counter. She doesn’t seem surprised when he presses her against the latter; she grips at his arms as if wanting him to hold her tighter. 

He moves his face slowly until their noses almost bump and Fei’s smile changes as she anticipates what he’ll do next. Chansung lets his eyes droop as he takes in her scent and her breath until it’s mingled with his own because they’re kissing. He treasures these moments where they start playing with each other until they’re eventually doing exactly what they’re doing now, unexpectedly but not entirely surprising. 

What does take them both unaware and makes them stop is hearing a camera flash behind them. Chansung doesn’t let go of Fei as he turns his head to see Minjun and Wooyoung, the former with Chansung’s camera in his hand, a mischievous smile on his face.

“You can thank me for that later,” Minjun says, putting the camera down on another counter, the one that separates the kitchen from the living room since there’s no wall between them. “I mean, the picture and walking in on you two before you got too comfortable.”

“Hyung,” Wooyoung mutters, seemingly mortified at the other’s words. 

Chansung would laugh if he didn’t feel Fei’s nails on his forearms, now for different reasons than before. He turns to her again and she doesn’t look too happy about the situation. “I’m sorry, I forgot,” he whispers into her hair, but he knows he’ll have to make up to her later, when he can properly apologize for getting carried away.

Fei just shakes her head though, her cheeks slightly flushed for a second before she recovers again. She clears and pushes him away just a little while looking up into his eyes. “Don’t worry,” she says, voice low and steady. He knows then that she means it and that they should be alright. “Just make sure that picture is the only one they took,” and she winks at him before moving away and checking that her clothes are not wrinkled or anything. 

The other two must have walked further into the loft for they are not in sight when he escorts Fei to the front door. Wooyoung probably dragged Minjun away to give them some privacy, but anyway Chansung is thankful he’s alone with his girlfriend before she departs.

“Don’t forget we have an appointment tonight,” Fei looks pointedly at him as she puts on her jacket and slides her bag on her shoulder. 

“How could I forget the one time you actually invite me to have dinner at your restaurant?” he teases, longing to pull her closer again but holding back in case Minjun or Wooyoung show up behind them once more.

Fei twists as if annoyed at him, but her eyes reveal the smile before it takes over her face. “Eight o’clock. Don’t be late or I’ll tell Junho he can hit you once you arrive.”

Chansung laughs. “I’ll keep that in mind.” He leans in to give her a quick peck on the lips. “Go, Fei Fei. I’ll see you tonight.”


x


Chansung decides not to delete the picture of Fei and himself in the kitchen. He does make sure that’s the only picture though, if only to make sure Fei won’t get annoyed at him later. That has him smiling before he knows it; he actually loves the look on her face when she’s all ruffled, and he likes it even more when he gets to soothe her again. That makes him want to keep looking at the picture that Minjun took, but he has work to do and he doesn’t want to waste his friends’ time, so he gets his camera ready to take pictures again. 

Minjun and Wooyoung accepted to help him in this project out of good will-- and the promise to give them a copy of the photobook once it is finished. He has to appreciate the fact that they allocated a day for them to do this shoot even though Minjun is usually busy with the local bands whose music he produces. Wooyoung graduated from the same college as Chansung, only a year before Chansung did. Wooyoung has just set up an architecture business and he spends most of his time either designing houses and buildings or looking for clients and advertising his work. In short, the couple has little free time to spend together, and Chansung is grateful he has friends as good as them.

Camera in hand, Chansung looks up from the living room to the mezzanine, where the suite is. There is no wall there to shield it from the living room, only curtains that might be used for privacy but which are drawn apart at the moment. He can see Minjun and Wooyoung talking comfortably, and he makes sure to put the camera on silent mode before taking a few pictures of them as they smile at each other, touch each other’s arm and then hold hands for a while as they move slowly around the bedroom. They’re probably talking about the place and its décor. Wooyoung points at something Chansung can’t see, their backs to him now as Minjun places his arm around Wooyoung’s shoulder and listens to him. Minjun turns to look at Wooyoung and Chansung takes a shot of his side profile, zooming in to get a better view of the way Minjun looks at Wooyoung. What Chansung sees is love in the other’s eyes, in the way he slowly smiles at Wooyoung and leans his head to the side, giving him his undivided attention. Even though Chansung feels like an intruder, he keeps taking pictures because that’s what they’re all here for.

Chansung had first graduated in management before he opened a gym, since he had always had a passion for sports and workouts. The business was going well, but it didn’t need his presence all the time, and he took advantage of that by pursuing other interests. He had been into photography for a while before he decided to study it formally, and his Final Project consisted of “intimacy.” That is, he would try to capture the dynamics of a relationship and have his pictures show the often subtle and different ways through which that intimacy might surface. It could be through gestures and touches or looks and moments in which one’s knowledge and appreciation of the other may be seen. 

He had explained that to Minjun and Wooyoung beforehand, and he had also chosen them on purpose. Out of his friends who were in a relationship, they were the most comfortable with displaying affection in public, but at the same time they didn’t go overboard in that. They just moved and acted naturally around each other, always fitting together as if pulled towards one another by some gravitational force. Their love was there to see without them having to put it into words, and that alone was enough to make Chansung appreciate them even more as friends.

He knows not all pictures will be spontaneous like these first ones, though. So he climbs up the stairs that will take him closer to the other two, and Minjun meets him at the top of the stairs.

“I saw you,” he points an accusing finger at him, but his growing smile lets Chansung know he doesn’t mind it at all. 

“We brought some extra outfits,” Wooyoung says, indicating the bag at the foot of the bed. Chansung hadn’t noticed that when they arrived.

“Good,” Chansung nods, and then he’s silent as he thinks of what they should do next. He has some ideas he wrote down on his notepad the other day, the piece of paper now in his pocket. 

Minjun speaks before Chansung can make a decision. “Should we change in the bathroom? Or are you gonna take pictures of us undressing too?”

Chansung chuckles and recognizes a slight nervousness in the sound. It doesn’t surprise him, since he has never done a shoot like this before, and it shouldn’t be a problem as long as he can work as effectively as usual. He’s glad Minjun’s joking about this, because that means he’s comfortable and really okay with the pictures they will take, but he’s also unsure of himself. Should he do that? Could he try that kind of photograph and decide if he would include it in the final photobook later, after seeing how each picture might turn out? 

“Well, we could... try that out?” he hears himself say, and then continues before he can change his mind. “You could take off each other’s clothes? I imagine that’s-- that’s part of--”

“Ah, look at him, Wooyoung ah!” Minjun nods at Wooyoung. “He sounds like a . And he’s blushing!!!”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes at Minjun, but his lips tug up when he looks at Chansung. “Please ignore my hyunggie. But also,” he tugs at the sleeve of Minjun’s suit, his voice dropping to a low and sweet tone, “how dare you suggest something like that without talking to me first?”

“Booyoungie,” Minjun whispers in about the same kind of voice, circling Wooyoung’s waist to pull him closer. “The shoot is about intimacy. I’m sure you can connect the dots.”

Wooyoung snorts instead of getting offended, which sums up their relationship nicely. Minjun’s smile is bright as he looks at his beloved one and Chansung takes an unannounced picture of that, because it’s beautiful and true and he doesn’t want to miss the light in their eyes. 

“Okay,” Wooyoung breathes, resigned. He looks at the camera in Chansung’s hand as if weighing the pros and cons of Minjun’s suggestion. “Most of these will be black and white, right?”

Chansung nods. They had already discussed the main details when he first asked the couple to help him with this project, but as he had told them that night over drinks and good food, he was open to ideas and sometimes he would have new ones on the spot. His mind is already working, so he tells the other two what he would like them to do and that he will try not to interfere much. He wants them to feel at ease as much as possible.


x


Minjun sits on the edge of the bed, hands ing the cuffs of his shirt. He was wearing a suit when he first arrived, but that’s resting on a chair at the foot of the bed now. Chansung gets a shot that includes both the suit folded on top of the chair and Minjun on the bed, delicate hands on the fine fabric of his shirt, hesitating as if he were to roll up the sleeves. He looks at Chansung and then laughs it off, perhaps because he remembered what Wooyoung was going to do. Chansung wouldn’t argue against the rolled-up sleeves, but he’s looking forward to the next few minutes, wondering if Wooyoung will really go along with it or if he will get too embarrassed to do it.

However, when Wooyoung climbs on the bed from the other side, he looks confident. Not overly so, but as if he had planned this, to approach Minjun this way, and later Chansung will appreciate the resulting picture. Minjun is undoing his own tie as Wooyoung gets closer, slim hands gripping at the head post once to steady him. They’re both moving a bit slower than they probably would if they were alone, but Chansung asked them to do that. This way he may get to both capture everything-- or as much as he can-- through the lenses and also decide on whether he should ask them to pause or do something else. 

It feels weird, but not in a bad way. He knows what he’s seeing is not completely real or natural, but it still affects him, as if he were actually observing an intimate moment unfold before his eyes. Isn’t that what he should be looking for, though? He hopes he will be able to catch that feeling in a way that the photographs will show it. 

He also hopes the flash and mere presence of the camera won’t get in the way once Wooyoung gets close enough to Minjun from behind. Wooyoung is on his knees, eyes on Minjun, whose head turns a little to the side as the other’s hand comes around the collar of his white shirt, Wooyoung’s other hand resting on Minjun’s shoulder for now. There’s at least one click for each slight move: Wooyoung’s slim fingers sliding slowly underneath the fabric; Minjun clasping the tie with both hands, which still in the air as his gaze locks with Wooyoung’s; the first button being undone as Wooyoung’s knuckles go down Minjun’s collarbone. The way they look at each other gives Chansung pause, and maybe that’s what makes the other two suddenly break into laughter: the silence; the tension in the air. 

Chansung takes a deep breath, which he lets out slowly as he tells himself to focus on doing his job and ignore the chill that runs down his spine when Wooyoung looks briefly at the camera, the remnants of a smile on his face before he leans into Minjun and rests their foreheads together, eyes closing. Wooyoung’s hair is fluffy, a darker brown than Minjun’s, whose hair is styled up, forehead exposed, unlike the other’s. Wooyoung’s whispering something, lips barely moving. Minjun’s nod is almost imperceptible too, but the curve of his lips is noticeable, his shoulders and arms seemingly relaxed. 

The tie which Minjun had been holding until then drops to the floor, and Chansung swallows. He would try to move closer but that might spoil the moment; this is not something they had talked about, but he did also tell Minjun and Wooyoung they could and should be spontaneous, and not just follow his lead. 

Besides, he gets Minjun’s sharp profile perfectly from where he is right now, a couple of meters away from the bed. Minjun has taken hold of Wooyoung’s wrists, though it’s light, more like the pictures that tell how Wooyoung’s hands belong on his skin: around his neck, tracing his jaw, palm resting on his chest. Whether they’re still aware of the camera or not-- this might be part of the show-- their eyes are intense on each other, and then Wooyoung moves to press his lips against Minjun’s, soft and teasing in their brevity. 

Chansung almost misses that-- the kiss, he almost forgets what he should be doing. But later he will take a look at the picture of them with drooping eyelids, touching lips and claiming hands, and it will grip at him the same way it did just now. 


x


There are shots of Wooyoung lying down on the bed, hands under his head as he looks at the side, to where Minjun is. Minjun’s standing up in those pictures, his silhouette blurred in some as the focus remains on Wooyoung, the latter’s eyes intent on the figure near the bed. Sometimes Wooyoung’s smiling, other times he looks lost in thought, and others still show him looking in the direction of the camera but not straight at it, face telling of what he might have done if he were alone with Minjun at that moment. 

Wooyoung’s still in bed, his shoulders, chest and then stomach revealed as Minjun pulls the sheets off him, each new inch of skin captured by the camera. Wooyoung’s hands move from under his head to grab at Minjun’s and stop him from sliding the sheets below Wooyoung’s belly. The latter’s not completely , but that’s not what it seems in some of the shots, the illusion intentional. The picture of Wooyoung holding one of Minjun’s wrists in place while nearly sitting up to meet him turns out great, as good as the one where Minjun leans down on top of Wooyoung. The corners of his mouth tug up in a teasing smile as the other’s parted lips seem to welcome him. Minjun doesn’t kiss Wooyoung, nor does Wooyoung move up to claim him, but the promise lingers in the air, filters through the lenses, and it will remain in the revealed shot.

The last ones of them in bed consist of Wooyoung seemingly asleep, his face barely seen while Minjun smiles down at him, his hands in Wooyoung’s hair in one of the pictures, his eyes almost closed as he kisses Wooyoung’s forehead in another one. There is a picture of Wooyoung making a face and another one of him grinning after that, Minjun smiling back at him. Chansung also makes sure to shoot Minjun jumping on Wooyoung later, both of them laughing as one tries to fight the other off, and then cuddling and whispering random things that Chansung doesn’t hear, nor does he need to.


x


The three of them ease into the next set of pictures more easily as the shoot goes on. Chansung only notices they have been doing this for a couple of hours when his stomach rumbles, but he chooses to ignore that for the time being. 

Minjun and Wooyoung have changed into bathrobes now and they’re in the balcony adjacent to the bedroom, Chansung trying to be as inconspicuous as possible while the other two talk about the beautiful view. The loft is on the twenty-third floor of the building and they can see a good part of Seoul from there, including the Han River, some of the parks that surround it, all the trees in contrast with the buildings and concrete around it. They’ve got their arms linked as they talk. Sometimes Minjun will rest his free hand on the rail, or Wooyoung will poke at his leg with a bare foot and Minjun will poke at his chest in turn. 

Chansung should relax as he sees them having fun with this, but he has to focus or he might miss something important. For instance, the way Wooyoung rests his head on Minjun’s shoulder unexpectedly, and Minjun rests his head on top of Wooyoung’s in turn. They’re quiet for a while, but they’re not standing still, as if moving almost imperceptibly to some music of their own. Chansung almost regrets interrupting the moment but he checked his list of ideas before they left the bedroom, and he feels this is the right time to do one of those.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells them, and Minjun barely gives him the thumbs-up before settling his arm around Wooyoung, pulling him closer. Chansung hesitates before he takes a shot, and then another as Wooyoung leans into Minjun; they’re kissing and Chansung is still there, working the camera. Minjun peeks at him and ends up laughing through the kiss. Then Wooyoung looks at Chansung too and buries his face in Minjun’s neck, but even if he’s embarrassed, his muffled laughter is still audible. Chansung’s grinning as he keeps taking pictures of them until Minjun tells him to go already, and he obeys.


x


“We should take a picture like this,” Chansung hears when he's coming back upstairs. He’s greeted by the sight of Minjun sitting comfortably on one of the cushioned chairs in the balcony, Wooyoung on his lap and facing him, wrists held by Minjun as if they had been play fighting before he arrived. Wooyoung moves as if he would try to hit his lover for the second not-previously-discussed suggestion but Minjun smiles at him as if Wooyoung’s display of annoyance were actually a confession of some sort. All that motion had made Wooyoung’s bathrobe slide off one of his shoulders, probably another reason behind Minjun’s growing smile. “Come on, Chansungie, move before he gets rid of me.”

Chansung laughs; Minjun wasn’t even looking at him while he said that, and the words had Wooyoung making a face. Maybe he wants to look threatening but the only effect that has is making him look cute, so Minjun lets go of his hands to pinch at his cheeks. Chansung forces himself to bite back a chuckle while he captures all that, but Wooyoung still bares his teeth at him for listening to Minjun. The older one can only laugh as Wooyoung stands up as if he would fight Chansung but it’s all a show; Chansung knows Wooyoung needs much more than that to get really worked up. In the end, Wooyoung’s smiling too, and he doesn’t resist it when Minjun pulls him back to sit on his legs, this time facing Chansung. Minjun circles Wooyoung’s waist as the latter puts an arm around him. Chansung’s smiling with each new picture, especially when Wooyoung shows him his tongue, only to get his cheek pinched by Minjun as if to scold him. 

“I hope you guys are hungry,” Chansung says after he goes quickly in the bedroom and comes back with the tray he had left on the same chair where Minjun’s suit still hung. Their other clothes had been carefully folded and packed by Wooyoung, who had already separated another set for later. He places the tray on the small table between the two chairs in the balcony, one of those still occupied by the couple. 

Minjun straightens up to try and peek at what’s on the tray, while Wooyoung sniffs at the air and looks pleased at the smell. “I bet there’s chicken,” Minjun teases, his breathy laugh tickling at Wooyoung’s face, scrunched up now. That only gets another silent laugh out of Minjun, who bites at the air near Wooyoung’s cheek and then nuzzles his neck. Wooyoung’s sigh sounds like annoyance for untrained ears; but Chansung recognizes the affection layered underneath. He’s taking more pictures while Wooyoung looks at Minjun from behind his fringe and then allows the smallest of smiles to tug at his lips before he gets up. This time it looks like he didn’t really want to get away, but he does that to take a better look at the tray and its contents.

“Did your noona make all this?” Minjun asks Chansung, after getting up to join Wooyoung. Chansung also takes pictures of that; the first ones are of their backs as one gets closer to the other, and then Minjun leans into Wooyoung’s personal space before Wooyoung welcomes him with an arm around his waist. The early afternoon sunlight shines on their heads; a beautiful day for beautiful pictures.

“Yeah,” Chansung says, ignoring the way Minjun referred to Fei. He learned not to rise to the bait; calling Minjun out will only make the other further. 

“We should go to Fei-sshi’s restaurant sometime,” Wooyoung says, his voice reproachful in ways that would probably get at Minjun better than any attempts of Chansung’s. “I heard she adds a new dish to the menu every month, but that also means another is replaced. We’ve already missed the chance to try some of her food.”

“It’s actually not just her restaurant anymore,” Chansung says, taking a shot of the other two as they read the small notes Fei had left on each of the sandwiches with the ingredients she had used for each one. There’s also a plate with several sliced fruits, and small pots with dressings and herbs. “She’s sharing it with the other chef now. I think I told you about him, right, Woodongie?”

Wooyoung nods vaguely. “Taec...yeon-sshi, right? He goes to your gym?”

Chansung hums in agreement; he’s zooming in on Minjun’s hand as he picks up a slice of melon and tries it before feeding half a strawberry to Wooyoung.

“You told her I don’t like food with too much herbs and spices?” Minjun sounds a little amazed, and Chansung nods with a smile. 

Fei had made two sandwiches for each of them; one stuffed with grilled tuna belly and another with raw salmon for Minjun. The chicken and vegetables ones are for Wooyoung. She had left the pots with dressings on the side so both of them could try any of the sandwiches if they wanted, and Wooyoung could add the flavors to whatever he ate without displeasing Minjun. There are two other sandwiches, both with shredded pork in spicy honey under a layer of vegetables and another of extra spices, these ones for Chansung. Fei has never let him see her preparing the spicy honey or anything for that special recipe, and every time he tried to guess the ingredients she would just smile at him but shake her head, neither a yes or a no. 

“You should eat too, Chansung ah,” Minjun says, beckoning him to join them. “I know you want to take pictures but there’s all the fruit for that. The sandwiches will be too messy.” 

Wooyoung squints at Minjun. “You mean you might make a mess. I’m always careful.”

Minjun’s thick but well-shaped eyebrows rise at that. “Sure. You never get anything incriminating on the corner of your mouth, and I’ve never had to tell you where to --”

Chansung’s laughing again, even more when Wooyoung stuffs Minjun’s mouth with a piece of apple. Minjun bites and chews at it slowly, eyes bright with amusement and maybe a speck of everything else he feels for Wooyoung. 

“I think Chansung expects us to do that gracefully,” Minjun whispers, demonstrating that by the way he picks up another piece of fruit and holds it before Wooyoung. The latter raises one eyebrow at him in mock defiance and Minjun almost laughs, but Wooyoung opens his mouth and lets himself be fed. Chansung captures not only that, but also Wooyoung with his eyes half-closed, Minjun’s fingers tracing his jawline before sliding down to trace the contours of his collarbone, the exposed clavicle due to the way the robe hangs loose on his body even though it’s tied around his waist. Chansung’s fascinated by how they fall into what seems to be a world of their own this easily; one moment they seem very aware of his presence, the next they’re touching each other as if nothing else mattered. That should make things easier for him, and it does, but at the same time, he still feels a little uncomfortable. Even if he can't quite put his finger on it yet, however, it's not a bad feeling.


x


He realizes what it is before they shoot the final set of pictures. The three of them ended up eating together; there are some shots of the couple feeding each other and a sequence where Minjun tries to steal a bite of Wooyoung’s sandwich and then grimaces at the amount of herbal dressing in it. There is also a moment in the bedroom when Minjun’s hands are holding and then undoing the knot around Wooyoung’s waist, the other’s hands doing the same to him, their skin slowly revealed as the robes slide down their arms. They’re both wearing pants under the robes but that detail doesn’t appear in any of the pictures-- Chansung made sure it wouldn’t. What’s there is the way one affects the other as both undress together, and then Wooyoung leans in, gently bumping his nose under Minjun’s chin before kissing his throat. Minjun closes his eyes, pulls Wooyoung closer by the robe and rests his face against the other’s. He’s facing the camera when he opens his eyes, and Chansung’s chilled to the bone before it turns to fire under his skin.

He swallows, a frown settling on his features. This is like-- this is like voyeurism. Not really, he hadn’t thought of how he would feel while they took these pictures-- it simply hadn’t crossed his mind-- why would he even feel anything?-- but it’s there. His mind is already coming up with ways to both test the theory and solve what’s not exactly a problem. Still, it’s a good thing he had already told Minjun and Wooyoung they would stop right there, when Minjun looked at the camera that way. The older two move to the bathroom to change for the last time and Chansung goes down the stairs, taking the tray with him. He washes the dishes and leaves them to dry. He’ll put them back in place later; Minjun and Wooyoung are already coming downstairs, the former with a wide grin on his face while the latter tries to fight off a smirk that Chansung has only seen a few times before.

He doesn’t ask about it. They wouldn’t-- they didn’t have enough time-- he really doesn’t want to know.

Chansung had asked them to bring a set of their favorite clothes-- the ones they wear when they are at home, be it together or by themselves, ones in which they feel comfortable but that are not used for sleeping. Wooyoung’s got on a white tank top that looks brand new but also soft to the touch, a pair of black shorts and house slippers. Minjun has told Chansung he sleeps in old sweatpants even though he also wears those when he is at home during the day, but right now he’s wearing a pair of dark ankle pants and a white v-neck that hangs a little loose on his chest but not that loose around his biceps. He’s also got a pair of old red mandals that he takes off when he sits on the couch. He appears to be comfortable, relaxed. Chansung's glad Minjun's as good at making himself look at home as Wooyoung is at ignoring the camera.

The pictures start when Wooyoung approaches Minjun. It’s different from the bed now; Chansung asked them what they actually did when they got home and now they are gonna show him a few things. One of them is Minjun sprawled on the couch, head leaning back and eyes closed. Some music should be playing; Wooyoung has already put some Selah Sue song to play on his phone. Chansung recalls this one track is called Alone because Wooyoung has showed him some of her work before. He actually has to resist the urge to dance to the beat. Wooyoung seems to realize that and the smirk returns, only he’s not trying to conceal it now. He turns to Minjun soon enough though, and his face softens while his body stills for a second. His eyes remain on Minjun’s face for a second or two, and then he takes the steps that will allow him to softly touch Minjun’s forearm with the tips of his fingers, up to Minjun’s elbow as he leans in. 

“Minjunnie,” he whispers, but his voice is thick, full of things done and undone; things still not done. When Minjun opens his eyes, the emotion there looks real; anticipation mixing with surprise at this change of plans. Wooyoung was supposed to sit down with him, maybe cuddle with him, mess up his hair, poke at him with his feet, or anything like that. Sometimes they just sit together and enjoy the music, but the artist Wooyoung has chosen doesn’t have songs just for that. Alone asks for a dance, and that’s what Wooyoung does, fingers brushing up against Minjun’s. The latter’s eyes shine with delight as he takes Wooyoung’s hand in his own and gets up to dance with him. 

For a moment, Chansung doesn’t know if he wants to watch them or capture them through the lenses. Duty prevails after a moment of hesitation that’s worth the way the other two just move around each other, one imitating the other as they smile or laugh together. Chansung photographs that as well as Minjun twirling Wooyoung in a slow circle that leads the other’s back against his chest, Minjun’s arm wrapped around him as Wooyoung relaxes into him. Even after that it seems like Wooyoung is somehow leading them, maybe through the way he gets them both moving down slowly, then up again, and then in a slow circle of their own as the song changes into another one. Chansung doesn’t know the artist but the voice is stronger, the music slower but powerful, and he’s curious about the lyrics. Even though the song’s playing on Wooyoung’s mobile, it’s Minjun who sings along quietly into his lover’s ears. 

They still have time for the other pictures. Chansung lets them dance for now.


x


"So, how was it?" 

Chansung has just crossed the street from his car to the restaurant but Junho's already waiting for him out the door, a half gone ice cream cone in his left hand. He checks the time on his phone: four to eight. He's on time. "Won't you have dinner with us?" he retorts, peeking inside through one of the glass windows. He can't see the kitchen from here, and the dining area is empty, the lights dim in the absence of customers.

"They're organizing everything right now," Junho says, and it's almost like a conversation between two deaf people until he adds, "It's too hot. Summer’s just started and I'm already melting faster than this ice cream. It's hot in the kitchen and Taec says he can't focus when I'm nagging him, but I think he just wants to be secretive."

Chansung smiles at that; both could be true. Junho tends to babble and keep asking questions when he's waiting for something, and Taecyeon likes to put on a show. "Does he know you're spoiling your appetite right now?"

Junho finishes up a good portion of the ice cream before looking at him again. "I'm starving. The kids drove me crazy today, I barely ate at lunch because a boy hit another's face with a stone...” He shakes his head as he looks away, probably thinking about what happened at work. Besides being a vet, Junho volunteers at schools every two weeks in a project where he teaches kids how to take proper care of animals, especially when those kids have pets. Dealing with young students sometimes stresses Junho out but the smile that comes to his face sooner or later also tells Chansung it’s not all that bad. He's looking at the ice cream when he adds, “And this is nothing compared to what I assume those two are preparing for us."

Chansung hums as he peers inside once more. He catches a silhouette hurrying from one side of the restaurant to the other and assumes it's Fei, which brings a different kind of smile to his lips. "It was great," he says, and Junho blinks slowly before he perks up while Chansung goes on. "I still have to edit the pictures but they're here," he indicates the shoulder bag where he put his camera. "You wanna take a look?"

"Sure," and Junho smiles, his face almost bright. Chansung feels himself warming up at the genuine interest in the other's face. Junho finishes his ice cream and then pulls open the front door of the restaurant. "Let's go inside?"

Chansung nods and follows him. It's safer there, and they could use the air conditioning in the dining area. Once they’re inside, Chansung puts his bag on one of the chairs around the many tables and takes a look around the place. The oversized photographs of the customers’ all time favorite dishes on one of the walls are his work, as well as the framed, smaller photographs of different parts of Seoul that hang on the other walls. Behind the cashier there is a black and white collection of staff pictures, also taken by him. He walks there first to take a look at the one he always remembers; Fei talking to a customer, her side profile to the camera, hair behind her ear but falling on the other side of her face. She had been explaining something about how the menu worked; that was the weekly day she reserved for personally attending her customers, so she was wearing formal clothes instead of her usual uniform. What stayed with Chansung and makes him smile now is the way her cheeks are slightly puffed up, the hints of a smile on her face that appeared there when he approached and decided to take an unannounced picture of her. 

“Hi,” Fei walks his way and stops beside him, in her uniform now. The chef jacket is a deep red that matches her shoes, and the jeans that cling to her form are white. Her hair is tied in a loose bun under the chef’s hat; it’s also white except for the sewing details in black. 

“Fei Fei,” he greets her with a smile, enjoying the way the first letter of her name seems to press against his lips every time he says it. He likes how airy and light it sounds, it feels sweet but not too much, and depending on his tone of voice he can make it sound deep. He’s done that a number of times, let his teeth and lips play around the letters. Her eyes are curving at the edges as if she could read his thoughts and Chansung doesn’t resist taking her hand in his fingers, sliding a thumb gently up her palm. “I missed you today,” he whispers, and Fei nearly chuckles; maybe she thinks he’s just kidding, but then that sparkle that gives a different shape to her eyes returns and she’s shaking her head at him.

“Later,” she mumbles, a subtle warning in her voice. But she squeezes his fingers before letting go of his hand. Fei gives him one last look out of the corner of her eyes as she walks away from him to where Junho’s sitting, already fussing with Chansung’s camera. He’s smiling at some of the pictures and making surprised faces at others, and it all makes Chansung proud of himself, even if Junho hasn’t shared his thoughts yet. He trusts Junho’s judgment though, he’s honest and straightforward with his opinions, and his face already says a lot. 

“So, what do you think?” Chansung asks from behind Fei, in much the same tone as Junho first “greeted” him earlier. 

“These are amazing,” Junho states, now serious as he looks back at Chansung. “I know you’ll edit them but I think you should separate some unedited ones for the final portfolio.” He looks back at the camera, going through a few more shots and then back to one that’s called his attention. “See how it looks like you were not even there in this one?” It’s one of the pictures when Minjun and Wooyoung were taking off each other’s robes, Minjun’s hand curving around the fabric that hung loose on Wooyoung’s skin. One of Wooyoung’s hands just hovered near Minjun’s chest, but the former’s eyes were intent on his own actions, parted lips a sign of his near daze. “I was gonna complain you didn’t even try to get me to do this, but I don’t think I could have relaxed that much.”

"Because we’ve known each other longer?” Chansung asks, taking a moment to breathe in Fei’s scent while softly touching her back. She looks up at him and smiles briefly before looking back at Junho and the camera in his hands, seemingly curious about the pictures as well. 

“Maybe...” Although Junho sounds a little distracted, Chansung won’t press him further if he doesn’t broach the subject either. “But this is... intense,” Junho stresses the last word as he looks through more of the photoshoot. He’s going backwards, and now he stops to look at one of the pictures they took in the balcony, when Minjun and Wooyoung held hands and stared off into the distance, enjoying the view. 

“That’s beautiful,” Fei says, and that gets Chansung smiling wider. 

“Thanks, love,” he leans into her, his nose barely brushing against her cheek, near her ear. “I hope my professor will be as easy to please as Nuneo is.”

“That is a lie,” Taecyeon greets Chansung with a cheeky grin before he stops next to Junho, who’s narrowing his eyes up at the taller one as if already expecting his next words. “Babe’s damn hard to please.”

Junho simply shakes his head at him, but his eyes are narrowed. “Why aren’t you in the kitchen? What if something burns?”

“The only one about to burn here is you, babe. Food’s ready. I came here to tell you all that but you keep shooting the messenger.”

“He’s aiming at your heart,” Chansung jokes, and Junho’s glare only makes the others laugh. Fei’s only smiling at the exchange, more than used to their constant banter by now.

“I'm starving. Let's eat." Junho gets up but Taecyeon is in his way. Chansung hides his smile in Fei's hair as he tries not to pay too much attention to the other two, and Fei finally turns to face him.

"Did they like the sandwiches?" she asks softly, the hints of a smile on her cheeks. When Chansung nods, her lips curve up. She looks radiant, proud of such a simple thing. "And you?" her voice drops and she keeps looking into his eyes, knowing the answer.

"You know the way to my heart," he jokes, grinning at her as she lets out a quiet laugh.

"Stop flirting and let's eat."

"You're just like one of your kids when you're hungry," Chansung says, but it's Taecyeon who gets a shove for agreeing with him.

"See? That's not a lie," Taecyeon says, blocking Junho's next hit but letting him lead the way to the kitchen by pushing at Taecyeon's back.


x


This is not the first time Chansung and Junho taste the next special dish to be added to the menu, but it’s still a new experience. First, because they have to pick one of two options. Second, because both Fei and Taecyeon have refused to tell them the ingredients except for the obvious ones. 

Chansung frowns at the small portions on two separate plates. There are no side dishes, just a saucer with pickled ginger for him to eat after he tries the first recipe, so that he’ll get to taste the second one almost as if he hadn’t eaten anything before. 

“You’ll get the side dishes after you choose the dish you like the most,” Taecyeon explains, dimples showing as he smiles at Chansung like he would somebody who said this wouldn’t be enough food. It won’t, not for Chansung anyway, but that’s not why he’s frowning.

“I don’t know which one to eat first.”

That gets Taecyeon laughing out loud, and Junho hangs his head down as the bubbling laughter takes over his face. “Really, Chansung ah,” he looks at him. “I’ll go with the steak and veggies first--”

“Steak and veggies,” Fei repeats, sounding almost offended.

“Hey, you chose not to tell us what this is, so don’t look at me like that for not using the right words!”

Chansung just watches as Fei rolls her eyes and looks away, but she’s smiling a second later. And Junho is smiling too; in fact, he’s just started eating, so Chansung follows him on that and on the food choice. They’re both sitting down around the large table where all ingredients and utensils would be if this were a regular evening at the restaurant; the table stands in the center of the kitchen whereas the stoves, ovens and sinks are placed against the walls. Chansung and Junho are sitting down on one side of the table, whereas the two chefs are on the other side, standing up and looking at them expectantly.

“So...?” Taecyeon prompts, looking from one guinea pig to another.

Junho takes his time munching on a piece of meat, his eyes closing for a second. He looks like he could be sighing, but maybe he’s holding it back, judging from the way his lips curve up when he looks at Taecyeon. He only speaks after he’s swallowed and used a napkin. “I need to try the second one,” he says, which really doesn’t help Taecyeon. Chansung’s amused the latter seems to be anxious about this.

“Did you prepare this one, Taec?” he asks, and Taecyeon just looks at him.

“You’ll wait to know about that just like I’m waiting to know your opinion,” he states, crossing his arms over his chest. Chansung raises his eyebrows, a short laugh escaping him. Then he shrugs, and gets back to eating.

Both dishes are made with meat, but the scent, taste and texture of one is almost completely different from the other. Chansung suspects these are Chinese recipes but he doesn’t recall Fei preparing anything like this before, not from the looks of it anyway. One has thin rolls of pork steak seasoned with what’s certainly sesame oil and ginger, maybe spring onions, but there’s something else in the meat that’s a little crunchy. Some kind of nut. The rolls are placed on a small bed of cabbage cooked in soy sauce, but it’s not just salty, it’s also sweet and creamy. Chansung is delighted at the mixture and even though the portion is small he decides not to eat everything so he can also enjoy the other dish. Besides, they’ve been promised side dishes for later. He’s also curious about those.

He feels Fei’s eyes on him, so he smiles and then winks at her. She rolls her eyes again but it’s just a fake attempt at ignoring him; she returns the smile and then turns to whisper something to Taecyeon, who nods while looking at Junho. Chansung turns back to the food; he’s already eaten a small slice of pickled ginger, so he tries the second dish. Instead of pork, this one is made with beef, and he recognizes something similar to the taste of the first dish, but he doesn’t know exactly what it is yet. While the pork was rich and tender despite the crunchy bits inside, this steak has been seared quickly so that it’s got a crispy layer all around it, but the meat it’s still juicy and almost raw. It requires a lot of chewing, which leads to savoring the taste of the beef alone but also the spicy corns used for the crust. The “veggies” are a baby bok choy salad with shiitake mushrooms, chili sauce and other spices. Chansung has one bite of the salad for every two or three of the steak. He would be humming and he’s sure Junho would too, but they look at each other and stifle a laugh instead. On the other side of the table, Taecyeon and Fei are either pretending they have something important to talk about or probably making snide remarks about their silence. 

Junho stops eating first and takes a sip at his glass of water, looking sideways at him. Chansung is soon done too and it’s their turn to whisper, shake their heads and frown at each other as they don’t agree on which dish to choose. In fact, if Chansung could he would choose both; but he knows the other two won’t accept that. Once he tried to convince them to add a new dish without removing another one, but Fei explained about ingredients, time, their differential to other restaurants and so on. He understands how it works and why they’re doing this, but his stomach can’t be convinced otherwise. He almost laughs at the thought.

“Y’know, you don’t have to choose the same dish,” Taecyeon says.

Fei nods at that, and adds, “We already have another vote in case it’s a tie.”

“Another vote? From whom?” 

“Changmin-sshi,” Fei answers Junho. His face changes from one of slight surprise to one of confusion, so Fei adds, “He worked here for a while, when I just opened the restaurant. Taec met him before he became a Professor at the University where we both studied. He came here the other day to ask if we were accepting interns, and then...” she looks at Taecyeon as if she were about to say his name, but then she trails off, and the other continues.

“We all talked about new recipes and we started cooking and giving tips to one another, and this happened,” Taecyeon indicates the plates that Chansung and Junho have mostly emptied, and he looks pleased at that. “But Fei and I value your opinions and we want to know what you guys think.”

Chansung smiles deliberately at the other. “You prepared both dishes, didn’t you? I mean, tonight. It was Taec hyung and Fei just helped him. It’s obvious now, so stop being all secretive about it.”

Fei bites at her lower lip but her cheeks show the laughter she’s trying to contain. Chansung feels like getting up and taking her in his arms, but he doesn’t. He keeps his smile on her instead, as well as his telling eyes. 

“I vote for the-- what’s this called?” Junho gestures at the second dish, and Taecyeon grins at him.

“Sichuan peppercorn tenderloin steak with baby bok choy and shiitake mushrooms on the side,” Taecyeon says, his voice as rich as the words.

Junho blinks slowly at him. “Steak and veggies.”

Even though he covers his eyes as if shielding himself from Junho’s answer, Taecyeon’s laughing out loud two seconds later. Junho’s response is a growing smile that clings to his cheeks, his ears coloring slightly. 

Meanwhile, Fei looks at Chansung as if she had known all along which one he would choose. “It’s a variation of the Braised Red Lion’s Head,” she says before he asks, and the other two also look at her, listening. “We decided to try and make thin slices of pork and roll them instead of making the usual meatballs.”

“You also used some kind of nut, right?” Chansung asks, eyeing what remained of the pork on his plate. 

“Freshwater walnuts. Good?”

He takes a short breath sighs pleasantly. “Yes. I want more.”

Fei lets out a quiet chuckle, her eyes bright with content. “Sure.” 


x


The large table in the kitchen is now covered with plates, bowls and pots. Besides the two main dishes, Taecyeon and Fei have made herby dumplings, egg fried rice, dan dan noodles and raw vegetable rolls. The four of them are eating now, Fei sitting down next to Chansung, Junho opposite him and next to Taecyeon. 

“So, which one’s the winner?” Junho asks, glancing at Fei but focusing on Taecyeon.

“If you’d asked who I’d say you lost,” Chansung says teasingly. Taecyeon tried to say something around his food but had to wait. 

“Really?” Junho looks insistently at Taecyeon, who coughs and then stares at Chansung, an expression similar to Junho’s trademark glare on his face. It simply amuses the younger one instead of anything else.

“Changmin-sshi did vote for the Lion’s Head,” Taecyeon says. Junho sniffs dismissively and Chansung snorts, which earns him a glare from the master, but that only makes him laugh. 

“But that doesn’t even look like a Lion’s Head,” Junho changes his voice to mocking disdain at the last words and makes a face. 

“That’s because we’ve changed the recipe. We’ll have to think of another name later.” Taecyeon places an arm around Junho’s back, or just on the chair where the latter’s sitting. Chansung’s not sure, but it still gets Junho to look at Taecyeon differently. “I can always make the steak and veggies just for you, y’know. When we’re at home and you let me cook instead of burning everything.”

Junho ignores the last bit of that sentence, his face makes that so clear it doesn’t really look like he’s actually ignoring it. “I told you, you already do that all day. And I like cooking for you.”

Taecyeon sighs, but his face is relaxed and his dimples are showing. “Stubborn babe.”

Chansung feels like taking a picture of them, but he also feels like leaving them to themselves. However, his camera is in the dining area, and they haven’t finished dinner yet.

He feels a nudge at his waist. When he looks at Fei, she’s reaching for the bowl of dumplings. “Excuse us,” she addresses Taecyeon and Junho before getting up and off the table. She takes one pair of chopsticks with her and turns to leave the kitchen. Chansung is bewildered for a second, and then Junho-- it must be Junho now-- kicks him under the table. 

“Just go,” he hisses, looking at the kitchen entrance and then back at Chansung.

Taecyeon’s hand is on Junho’s nape when Chansung leaves.


x


There’s a part of the restaurant separated from the dining area where customers can have some drinks either before or after eating. Sometimes, it’s reserved for a private gathering, be it a business deal, a family party or something of the sort. There are poufs, small couches and leather chairs, and a table next to the bar. Chansung spots the bowl of dumplings but doesn't give it much attention since his curiosity has been piqued by his girlfriend.

It seems Fei has some private gathering of her own in mind. Chansung just followed her in there and she’s closing the door, though she doesn’t turn to him right away.

“I didn’t know you could lock that door?” he asks lightly, after he hears the sound of something clicking.

“You can’t,” she says, and then she turns to face him, leaning against the door. She shows him the key and then puts it in the back pocket of her jeans, her eyes shimmering with an unspoken dare. 

“I could get that... But do I even want to?” He keeps his voice low enough that Fei almost moves from the door to come his way. It’s Chansung who approaches her though, stopping close enough that he could trap her between his arms against the door if he wanted. He doesn’t touch her yet; he just leans in to take in her scent. He loves it so much; now it’s mingled with remaining tones of the food they’ve just had but it only makes him want to sniff at her once more. He does it, the tip of his nose almost touching her cheek, but Fei moves a little to the side, smiling coyly at him. “I wanna take you home,” he whispers at her ear.

The slightest shiver runs through her, and Chansung’s lips curve up. She can probably feel it even if her eyes are half-shut, maybe looking down at her hands as she reaches for his arms. Chansung lets her guide him, lets her place his hands around her hips; welcomes her into his embrace. “When I said later,” her fingers slide up his wrists, his forearms, resting on his shoulders, her eyes also resting on his face. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind...” she trails off, but she doesn’t need to add anything else. Chansung knows, she knows he does, they’re just-- flirting, like they still do after years of being together. 

Chansung enjoys this game in which they’re conquering each other again and again. “Is that why you brought food along? Thought I’d try to get back to dinner?” 

Fei’s quiet chuckle mirrors his own then, their breaths mingling as she shakes his head once. She starts saying something, her brows furrowed for a second, and then she shuts and focuses on her fingers that are trailing down Chansung’s chest. “I made Taecyeon prepare everything cause I couldn’t stop thinking about you all day.” She looks and sounds confused, as if this shouldn’t have happened considering they see each other on a daily basis. Chansung is at her place often enough that he sometimes feels more at home there than at his own apartment, but he still craves her presence and company. 

“Is that a bad thing?” he’s smiling at her, lips brushing at the corner of . 

Fei shakes her head slowly. They could be kissing, but they’re not. This moment, the slow seconds before they do, this makes Chansung breathless and hot and she feels it in her, in the way she grips at his arm, her other hand sliding up his chest to caress his neck. They’re sharing warmth where one touches the other, and Chansung pulls her even closer. 

He would like to be able to see this. It’s a slow realization that’s been coming to him all day, ever since he looked at that picture of them in the kitchen. Maybe that’s what’s affecting Fei too, the possibility of doing something like that just for themselves. A vivid memory captured in a photograph. Chansung breathes in Fei and exhales heavily as a wave of desire flows through him. 

He holds that thought for later. Not that he can really hold on to his thoughts right now, for Fei has just pressed their lips together, fingers curling around his hair. Chansung sighs into her, kisses her deeper, pulls her flush against him when Fei tugs at the strands. Her warm fingers go up and down his arm and Chansung caresses her back till he gets to her neck and her hair, in between long kisses and quiet sighs. 

“Fei Fei,” he murmurs against her lips, loosening his hold around her waist just to look at her. Her cheeks are flushed, her hair in slight disarray-- his own is certainly worse-- her lips still parted in waiting. Chansung takes in a brief kiss that has him humming softly against her lips, and Fei’s got her eyes closed next time he looks at her face. There’s also the hints of a smile, the promise of what they won’t do here but-- later. Chansung will take her home now. 

“I can wait,” she whispers, voice playful, lips curving up. Her eyes pin him to the floor. 

He doesn’t contradict her. He would make a fool of himself if he tried to express what she’s doing to him, what she can do to him. Chansung will always be willing to wait for her, but right now he knows he can’t exactly wait. He doesn’t really want to. And he knows that she doesn’t, either. 

“You could unlock the door... but do you really want to?” her face lights up as she teases him. Chansung’s fingers draw invisible lines on her face and he feels her cheeks move under his palms; he loves her smile and what it brings to life in her eyes. Fei might be telling him to get the key but she’s also suggesting something that he knows they might regret. She knows he’s sensible enough to refuse, but that only makes it more fun for her to . 

“Yes,” he says. He’s refusing the offer for them to do anything in this room; he’s reaching into her pocket so they’ll continue this at home. 

Fei shoves at him lightly in fake disappointment, but her face still glows.

x