Yuta was the first in Taeyong’s room that next morning, Areum and Jaemin on his heels and whining about how he cheated at their race. Taeyong’s uncle brought up the rear.

“How’re you feeling?” the Japanese male asked brightly, helping hoist Taeyong’s littlest cousin onto the foot of the hospital bed so she could inspect his hand for any more injuries.

“Sore,” Taeyong laughed lightly. “It hurts more today. Like my body remembered what pain is.”

Yuta frowned, “Can’t they give you anything? Do you want me to call a nurse? Should we take you somewhere else? I can’--”

“I’m fine, Yukkuri,” Taeyong’s hand raised to stop the other in his tracks, but a laugh lingered on his lips to tell the other he wasn’t actually upset.

“Yukkuri? Yukkuri,” Areum chirped happily after him. “I like that.”

The low booming laugh from his uncle resonated around the room. “Yuta really fits in with the family, huh?” he asked to no one in particular. “I’m going to get coffee and talk to a nurse. Taeyong-ah, do you want anything?” When he replied with a soft “No thanks” his uncle gathered up his cousins and left for the cafeteria.

“Do you think you’ll be released today?”

Taeyong’s focus wasn’t on the question. In fact he’d hardly heard the other’s voice. He was too intent on reading the lines of the other’s face, trying to see if that same pain still lingered from the other night.

“Taeyongie?”

“Huh?”

Yuta blinked. Taeyong blinked back. “I said do you think you’ll be released today?”

“Oh. I hope so,” Taeyong let out a breathy, awkward laugh. “My body feels so stiff here. I’d like to at least be back in my own bed.”

“I hope so too. I think your uncle’s going to ask so fingers crossed he comes back with good news!”

It was as if Yuta was magnetic to the edge of Taeyong’s hospital bed, and their hands seemed to experience a similar pull to one another. Back in the same position they’d left on last night, Taeyong decided to ask, “Are you okay?”

“What do you mean? I’m not the one who was hit by a car.”

“You looked like you were going to cry last night.” When he wanted to Taeyong could be blunt, Like whenever he was adamant to get an answer from someone. “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah! I’m fine,” Yuta’s grin deepened the frown on Taeyong’s own lips.

“I don’t believe you.”

“I am. I really, really am,” Yuta squeezed Taeyong’s hand in his own tightly. “I promise. I got a little into my head last night is all. Guess I was overwhelmed with you waking up.”

Taeyong’s brows drew together but he’d take this answer for now. “Tell me when you’re not okay, okay? Promise me?”

Taeyong offered his pinky and wouldn’t put his hand down until Yuta wrapped around it with his own.  

A bit of apprehension laced his tone, “I promise.”

His uncle soon returned with the good news: cleared for discharge with only four required check ups over the next six weeks. Taeyong felt relieved at the idea of being able to go home, ecstatic really because he was over the stiffness and sterilization of the hospital room, albeit a little nervous about his recovery time. He didn’t know how to care for broken ribs or collarbones and the last thing he wanted to do was mess them up further. But, with Yuta by his side, who insisted that he’d be able to help even while away in Japan, the nurses showed Taeyong the best ways to maneuver through his injuries; and provided his uncle with extra care instructions.

There was nothing Taeyong wanted more than to embrace his freedom with a show of headstrong independence, but when he had to concede and use Yuta for balance it was obvious that the Japanese male was more than pleased to be helpful. Taeyong tried not to let it deflate his confidence too much, but he was entirely fed up with being useless like this. Yuta, sensing Taeyong’s disappointment somewhere deep in his gut, loosened his hold whenever he felt Taeyong’s steps become more confident; leaving the opportunity to lean against him if needed. It worked, and it didn’t go unnoticed. Though Taeyong could only express a silent thanks in the lingering of his hand on Yuta’s arm and a small squeeze once he made it to the couch in his living room.

“I can cook,” Yuta offered eagerly when Taeyong’s uncle started towards the kitchen.

“You can cook?” Taeyong questioned.

“I cooked for your family the other morning,” he beamed proudly.

“He lied about pancakes,” Areum whined, causing Yuta to sputter.

“It wasn’t a lie, just a savory pancake!”

“Would you like to cook again, Yuta? I don’t mind taking the task on tonight,” His uncle offered but Yuta was already on his way to the kitchen.

“I’d love to help.”

A lot of it was misplaced pride. Yuta wanted to show Taeyong he was capable. He remembered all of the tasks Taeyong tackled around the house to take the burden off his widowed uncle’s shoulders. More than that he remembered how affronted he’d made Taeyong when he discredited his contribution to the household. Being able to step up was the best way Yuta felt like he could atone for the pain they’d already moved past. It didn’t need to be done, but he definitely wanted to do it. Plus, despite having relatively little culinary knowledge, he could at least pretend for the sake of looking cool in his soulmate’s eyes.

The family had okonomiyaki again that night.

Taeyong wanted to help with the dishes but everyone insisted he stay in place. Once Jaemin and Yuta together had finished them it was Yuta’s job to help Taeyong back to his room.

“It’s weird having you here,” he confided as they crossed the threshold, wiggling excessively as Yuta carried him to bed. “Wait, I don’t want to sit on the bed until I’ve showered.”

“Oh! I’m sorry,” Yuta diverted to Taeyong’s chair instead where his sketches still laid scattered around his desk. Taeyong’s face burned red, “I guess you saw these already, huh?”

“Only a few,” Yuta replied a little too quickly, a little too obviously a cover up that earned him a look of distrust from Taeyong. “Okay, okay. I did. Your uncle showed me your room the other night.”

“Ahh,” Taeyong ran a hand, the one that caused him the least pain, through his dark hair. And then added with a chuckle, “how embarrassing.”

“Not at all. More like talented,” Yuta corrected, already browsing for his favorite photos. “You draw so well, it’s incredible. We’ve only known each other for a few months and I feel like some manga protagonist caught in the panels of your first comic. As a manga fan do you know how cool this is?”

“Not really. The one thing I can’t draw is myself,” Taeyong laughed lightly, his cheeks still on fire from Yuta’s praise.

“That’s fine, you can just keep drawing me.”

Yuta’s stubbornly confident nature always baffled Taeyong. It didn’t seem real (because it truly wasn’t, but Taeyong didn’t know that). It didn’t seem like someone could be so ethereal in every action, so sure of his footing even when he was acting a fool. And Yuta was a fool, more foolish than anyone Taeyong had met, including Doyoung.

“I won’t just to spite you,” Taeyong smirked when Yuta’s shoulders deflated and his lips twisted into a pout. Already back to the dynamic Taeyong felt comfortable with. “Unless you commission me, but my rates can run pretty high.”

“I’m sure we can...strike a deal.”

Taeyong cringed at Yuta’s wink, eyes fixed on the hand that rose and seemed ready to his arm, “You’re so sleazy…”

“Sleazy?! That’s so rude!”

Taeyong’s laughter carried through the night and though he knew that sleeping was necessary to help his body recover further, spending his time with Yuta was far more valuable. He inevitably had Yuta help him into the bathroom so he could shower (a task he insisted he could do on his own, minus the assistance in walking over), then required Yuta to shower too if he wanted to stay in his room for any longer that night. When Taeyong grew tired Yuta sat with him on the bed until he was sound asleep, making sure to plug in his phone and flip off the lights before he left. He would’ve loved to spend the night, he just wasn’t sure how well Taeyong would take to waking up in Yuta’s arms. They’d only held hands for a few minutes after all.

Yuta had promise that he’d return to Japan once Taeyong made it back home and against his real wishes he did, in fact, book a flight while his soulmate slept.

x

When Taeyong awoke his uncle had taken the kids to school and made his way to work already, leaving just the two boys home.

“Morning,” Yuta chuckled, scrambling from his seat on the floor to meet Taeyong at the bottom of the small flight of stairs, “Can’t you just wait a few minutes for me to help you? You’re so stubborn.”

“If you think I’m going to have you carry me out of bed…” Taeyong’s nose scrunched, but he tried to hide how winded the small climb had made him.

“I could bring you breakfast in bed instead.”

“Another okonomiyaki?” Taeyong chuckled, adding “Jaemin told me” when prompted by the look of shock across Yuta’s face.

“I’m not hungry,” he appended, letting Yuta lead him by the arm to a seat on the floor. “Have you eaten?” When Yuta shook his head “no” he continued, “I’ll eat when you eat.”

That left Yuta in a strange spot since his typically didn’t eat breakfast but didn’t want to deny Taeyong anything that could help his healing. Then it hit him, “Oh! Let’s go out! Let me take you to your favorite place. My treat!”

“Huh?” Taeyong’s cheeks were turning pink again. “Yuta you don’t have to. I’m…”

But Yuta was on his feet and already helping Taeyong up the stairs towards his room. “Think of it as a date.”

Taeyong blushed harder. A date? Well, they were soulmates so maybe that shouldn’t seem too strange. He swallowed hard. A date with Yuta sounded… Nice. “What should I wear?” He asked before he could think better of it. A hand flew over his lips. What a stupid question! There was nothing in his closet that could match Yuta’s model-level of style. Even during the two days he’d visited the hospital Yuta looked nicer than Taeyong probably had in his entire life.

“What do you have?” Yuta asked without skipping a beat, beaming that perfectly pretty smile of his. “Maybe we can match!”

Taeyong looked Yuta up and down. A fitted black long sleeve shirt with a wide collar, a gray cardigan, and dark jeans. Not too hard to find something to fit with it. Accessorized with a simple silver chain and a cross pendant and-...a choker. Taeyong swallowed hard enough that his adam’s apple bobbed. He’d seen a few of the guys around university try the choker look but Yuta really, really nailed it.

“I’ll let you pick it out.” Taeyong’s biggest mistake. Yuta all but tore into his closet, pulling out his sweaters and jackets. He’d have tossed them on the floor if Taeyong’s desperate yelp hadn’t directed him to lay out all the clothing onto his bed.

“Are you always this messy?” he fussed, folding the things that Yuta had tossed rather haphazardly.

“No.” Yes, but Yuta wouldn’t say it because he wanted Taeyong to think highly of him. “Not always, I promise.” He paused his attack on Taeyong’s wardrobe to turn and smile. It sent butterflies throughout the other’s stomach. At least Yuta wasn’t annoyed...Taeyong worried he’d start getting annoying.

Yuta turned back to his work and let out an “Assa! This is it!” as he pulled out a black knit cardigan that Taeyong hadn’t put on in years. It was a piece of his mom’s clothing that fit him well, but was “girlier” than he wanted to wear out of the house typically. “You have a gray t-shirt, right?”

Taeyong blinked, “Yeah?”

“Gray jeans?”

“No.”

“Damn...Okay, I’ll buy you a pair for next time.”

Next time. Right. There would be one. Though Taeyong didn’t quite know when this time, the first of what he hoped was many, would come to an end.

“It’s okay though,” Yuta continued, grinning proudly. “We’ll look matched enough. Do you still need help changing?”

Taeyong refused and shooed Yuta out of the room so he could get ready. The bending to slide his jeans up over his ankles hurt more than he intended but at the very least his pride remained intact. It took at least double the time it usually did. But when Taeyong finally greeted Yuta he was ready to go, complete with a little bit of eyeliner the edges of his sharp gaze, a plain silver chain around his neck, and silver studs in his ears.

“I didn’t know you had your ears pierced,” Yuta commented, reaching towards Taeyong’s ear absently and letting his thumb slide across the earring. “Any other surprises you’re hiding from me?”

“Just my makeup collection,” Taeyong teased. Yuta then noticed that the other had done his eyes and brows. “Hey no fair. I don’t have any makeup on!”

“You don’t need it,” Taeyong childed just as his stomach started growling. “Come on,” he snatched Yuta’s hand into his own. “Let’s go.”

“Don’t need it?” Yuta was taken aback, blushing in denial that that was the case. But Taeyong was steadfast in his assertion (and his want to eat) that the Japanese male hardly had time to protest before they were out the door and embarking on foot to his favorite restaurant: a quaint ramen shop nestled between the suburban town his uncle lived in and the start of the city where his university campus resided.

“I wouldn’t think you were a ramen fan,” Yuta remarked, brushing back the cloth curtain from their heads as they entered. “You’ll be in for a treat when you move.”

“I like it,” Taeyong corrected. “But it’s the bakery behind it that’s really my favorite. Oh!” He greeted a man behind the counter (the owner, Yuta figured out later) while Yuta rolled his eyes and smiled to himself. Of course. Taeyong’s true favorite wouldn’t be a savory ramen spot. He should’ve known.

As they sat down Taeyong commented, “I didn’t ask you if this was okay with you. Do you want to go elsewhere?”

“I said I’d go to your favorite place,” Yuta returned with a smile, and little intention to eat anywhere.

“But will you eat here? I can’t imagine what a model’s diet must be like.”

“It’s really okay. I’ll just--”

“Here,” Taeyong cut in, flagging down the owner. “Ahjussi, can you make him a healthy plate? Mostly, uh…” He pointed out a few things on the menu and spoke using vocabulary that Yuta hadn’t exactly experienced before. The owner asked Taeyong a few of his own questions before they seemed to settle on an agreement. With a smile, Taeyong sat back in his seat.

“What was that?” Yuta asked, trying to mask his hesitance.

“I made sure that they’ll make you a good, healthy meal.”

“Oh?” Yuta blinked. “What’s in it?”

“I kind of want to surprise you. They’re good cooks, I’m sure it’ll be great.”

Soon enough there were two bowls placed before them, Taeyong’s in a heavy, dark broth with thick noodles and extra egg. Yuta’s was pale by comparison, filled with egg and vegetables and a few slices of pork. The two meals contrasted each other but in terms of taste they matched easily. Taeyong giggled in soft hiccups as he fed Yuta a section of his own meal. “See? I told you yours would be good even if it’s healthier.” And Yuta found himself so distracted between the banter and the laughter that before he realized it he had eaten almost the entire meal.

“Was the chili oil okay?” Taeyong asked behind his napkin, his own ramen almost finished. “I wasn’t sure if you liked spice but I thought the flavors would be good.”

“It was good,” Yuta confirmed, touched by Taeyong’s level of consideration, truly caught up in how cute the other male was when he talked about food and taking care of Yuta.

“I’m glad,” Taeyong all but beamed, reaching for his wallet when Yuta’s hand stretched across the space between them and onto his shoulder to stop him.

“Hey. I said I’m treating you, remember?”

Taeyong protested a little but Yuta took care of the bill like he wanted. “It’s dessert time now,” Yuta’s lips split into a very wide, very bright smile, linking fingers with Taeyong in order to drag him out, calling “Thank you, Ahjussi!” behind them both.

The bakery behind the ramen shop--the real reason they came out this way--was as small as the ramen shop with pale red bricks and a baby pink awning. A tiny cat encircled the bakery’s name with magenta paw prints stamped around the corners. Everything about it was too cute to handle and Yuta completely understood why his soulmate loved the place. The inside was equally aesthetic: Plush white cushion seats against a pastel blue painted wall, accented with shining mirrors and a white neon sign reading “Sweet Life” in English.

“I never would’ve imagined you to be the type,” Yuta teased, nudging Taeyong with his shoulder and then panicking when he winced. “Sorry, sorry!”

Taeyong just laughed, rubbing gently at his collar, “Doyoung is the one who likes to take photos here. I come just to eat.”

Photos! Yuta hadn’t thought about photos. While Taeyong ordered for them both (he insisted after Yuta took care of lunch) Yuta busied himself finding the perfect filter from the perfect app. “Don’t eat yet,” he instructed with a wide, falsely innocent smile that had Taeyong feeling uneasy. “We haven’t taken any photos!”

“What?”

“Here,” Yuta took care to position Taeyong and his parfait at the perfect distance behind him before grabbing the small cream puff Taeyong purchased for him and posing. He took a few without any decorated filters, a few with cat ears and whiskers, and a few with frames that surrounded them in hearts. By the ninth photo Taeyong rolled his eyes and dipped his spoon into the whipped cream, caught wide eyed as he it off in what Yuta declared to be his favorite photo of the bunch. “Thanks,” he beamed. “I’ll hold on tight to these when I go home.”

Oh right, home. Taeyong shifted in his seat. “When is that, by the way?”

“Tomorrow,” Yuta’s expression was no longer as bright but he still smiled all the same. “I promised you I’d leave after you woke up so I booked a flight for tomorrow.”

“That’s good,” Taeyong smiled in return but his eyes remained low. He jabbed lightly at a piece of cake deep down in his cup. “You’ve been away for so long. I hope you still have a job after this.”

Yuta laughed. Neither said anything for a bit.

“Do you like it?” Taeyong pointed towards Yuta’s half eaten cream puff with his spoon. His own dish now completely empty.

“I do! I don’t eat a lot of sweets usually.” A lot of anything really, though today was proving otherwise. “This is nice.”

When Taeyong smiled again it crinkled his eyes and that had Yuta beaming. Whenever he ate, Taeyong seemed like the happiest human in the world. It twisted his stomach, catching Yuta between his not-often acknowledged illness and a want to make his soulmate smile that brightly forever.

“You don’t have to finish it,” Taeyong added, drawing relief through Yuta’s stiff shoulders. “I get that our diets are probably really different.” And Yuta’s diet (his appearance, his everything) made Taeyong resolve to work out with Jaehyun more once he was healed. In the meantime, “But if you’re not going to, can I have it?”

Handing it off, Yuta laughed brightly. And when Taeyong ended up with some strawberry cream on his cheek he did his soulmate duty to wipe it away with his thumb. Still blushing, it was Taeyong who inevitably shuffled them out of the tiny bakery before Yuta could embarrass him any further.

Taeyong offered to take Yuta on a walk around his usual places with the intent of ending up at school, but halfway through he started to find himself winded and in more pain than not. He had been given pain medication that he hadn’t taken before they left and his body was getting its revenge. Teeth grit, he tried to push forward until Yuta noticed and called them a car to get home.

“Don’t push yourself,” he chided when he helped Taeyong through his front door. “You’ve only been out for a day.”

Taeyong was torn. He felt frustrated. Back to square one where he’d been stupidly injured and stupidly had to pay the consequences. This was Yuta’s last day--their only full day together outside of the hospital--and just eating had Taeyong winded. What was the point?

Almost on cue Yuta guided Taeyong to the couch and, daringly, ran his fingers once through the other’s hair. ‘Calm down, it’s okay’ unspoken but easily read between them. They were still so new to one another, but it didn’t feel that way. “I’m glad I got to take you on a date,” Yuta grinned, prompting Taeyong to sputter. ‘Date’ was still so much for him. But that’s what it was, huh? Taeyong hadn’t been on a date since he started university. Some kid in his social sciences. And Doyoung had been so put off by the potential addition to their group they’d called it quits early on-- Well, because of that and because Taeyong kept being asked for s in the bathroom that he didn’t want to give.

This date was much nicer.

Yuta was nicer than anything Taeyong could’ve imagined. He knew from their written notes, text messages, and video chats that Yuta was kind but he never imagined the model to wait in Korea for Taeyong to wake up. Or to take care of his family while he was unconscious. It was kindness on a level that he, Doyoung, and Jaehyun provided one another with; one that he never expected from anyone else really. And yet Yuta gave it all so effortlessly.

“You’ll have to come to Japan next time so I can show you around. I have a whole list of places I want to talk you!”

“Are they all bars?” Taeyong deadpans and Yuta’s bright smile morphs into something offended.

“N-no!”

A pause, then Yuta continued, “But they’re mostly bars?”

Try as he might Taeyong couldn’t keep a straight face at that response, and it had him bent over laughing. “O-ow…” He gasped, his hands flying to his broken bones as if to keep them in place. He was struggling for breath in between giggles, “Ow it’s...Hahah, ah…”

Yuta scrambled to Taeyong, adjusting him upright with a touch to his shoulder and lower back. “Oh my god, breathe,” he urged, caught between humor and panic. “Relax, I’m not that funny.”

“You’re right,” Taeyong managed, still laughing. “You’re not.”

Yuta’s jaw tightened overdramatically, eyes blown wide, and it makes Taeyong lose it even more.

“My god, stop,” the model whined. “You’re going to break more ribs if you keep laughing. If you go back to the hospital then I’m never going to leave!”

“Good, maybe I don’t want you to--” All at once his laughter stopped. They both stopped. It felt like the world stopped, for a second anyway. It was the lowest possible expression of feelings Taeyong could’ve offered up and yet they were both stunned to silence. Taeyong’s cheeks turned pink first. Then Yuta’s.

“I don’t really want to go,” he replied earnestly. “If I could stay here with you forever, I would.”

“Don’t say that,” Taeyong felt a little winded, more so than he had from his fit of laughter.

“No, I would. I mean it.”

“But--”

“I feel more complete with you around. Modeling, soccer, going out. None of it has felt as good as sitting on this couch next to you. I’d give it all up if I--”

Taeyong raised a hand between them and silenced Yuta gently.

“I really...Appreciate you, Yuta. Everything you’ve given me. How nice it is to spend time with you. But...But I don’t think it’s right for you to want to give up your life to be with me. Not yet.”

Taeyong was struggling against a current of heavy thoughts. He felt worried. Why? Because Yuta’s willingness to give everything up overwhelmed Taeyong. It felt misplaced for someone like Yuta (famous, beautiful) to give it all up for a dowdy, basic, wannabe artist like Taeyong. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want the opportunity for regret.

“Just wait a little bit longer and I’ll move to you, okay? It’s on the agenda anyway.” That much Taeyong could guarantee.

x

Taeyong and his uncle both offered to accompany Yuta to the airport that next morning but the model declined with the excuse of, “You’ve both given me so much more than I could want. I can get my own cab at the very least.”

Taeyong’s lips pursed into a frown. There was a twist in his stomach that he didn’t like. Sadness. Longing, despite Yuta still being in front of him. He wanted to keep him by his side until the very last moment but the two fifty minute car rides between the airport and home felt like too much for his healing body to manage. Yuta knew that too, so even when Taeyong tried insisting he was shot down really fast.

“I’ll take you to university instead,” Yuta offered after they both bid his uncle goodbye.

“Oh, joy. Get to go to school and say goodbye to you. It’s my lucky day.”

A pause.

“Stop smiling,” it took all of Taeyong’s sense of self-preservation not to shove Yuta with his shoulder.

“You don’t want me to leave.”

“Of course I don’t. I like having you here.”  

“I can come visit again. Maybe next month?”

“And risk getting fired more than you already have? Not a chance,” Yuta looked like a puppy that had been kicked so Taeyong quickly amended. “Maybe in two or three months…I’ll be more healed then.”

Eager at the agreement, Yuta took a step forward, arms spread wide, but managed to stop himself before he’d completely enveloped Taeyong in a hug. “Can I?” He asked with a gentle tilt of his head. Taeyong flushed and nodded. “Just be careful.”

Taeyong’s arms slowly, tentatively, returned the embrace. His palms pressed to Yuta’s back and his head rested just at the crook of Yuta’s shoulder. He didn’t want to break away. It was almost as nice as when they’d woken up after an accidental nap during a movie they put on to pass the time last night. Areum’s giggling jolted them awake and Jaemin’s “Gross” had pulled them apart quickly, much to Taeyong’s chagrin. This was nicer still because no young cousins could separate them right now.

Taeyong let out a long sigh, letting his arms fall back to his sides and then they stepped away from each other. “I’ll miss you,” he offered up with an awkward quirk of his lips. “Let’s Skype soon after you get back, okay?”