Doyoung wasn’t lying when he blurted about how there was personal feeling involved that made Yuta choose Taeyong as the winner of their selca competition. And it wasn’t even about the manito thing—when he found out that Yuta’s manito was Taeyong, though, Doyoung facepalmed without a second thought— it was because the Japanese was absolutely smitten with their leader.

No, he was not salty he didn’t win the game. He knew how his and Yuta’s love-hate friendship worked anyway, and Taeyong’s selca was really pretty, it was like he was born to take a selca surrounded by cherry blossoms in Osaka or something. What irked him the most was how ing obvious the latter acted. So handsome it offended me, yeah right, because your heart wasn’t on the verge of heart attack and you nearly died or anything. Doyoung had never eye-rolled so hard.

Honestly? It was disgusting.

He hadn’t even begun on how Yuta so biasedly cheered on Taeyong’s attempt on the poetry without even bothered to understand the meaning. Their trip on Osaka was more like watching Yuta and Taeyong being disgustingly in love with each other with cherry blossoms and beautiful scenery as their background. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the trip, and he appreciated Yuta’s huge effort on it. But he was just so done with this two hyungs dancing around each other and not being goddamn official already.

It would’ve been understandable if their affection for