________________

It was a dark rainy day on that 23^rd of February, the wind whipping through the blocks of apartments and houses, hitting at anyone who was outside, little particles of dust flying and dancing around. It was a horrible night, well, late evening, seeing how it was only seven o’clock. But in one of the more luxuries apartments in central Seoul—one of the apartments that countless hundreds people dream to live in with the huge windows overlooking the glittering city and with the most spacious rooms, rooms for even your damn shoes if you’d like to, there, was Yoseob and Doojoon.

The lights in their home have been dimmed, and Yoseob was in the kitchen, preparing some snacks and two glasses of mulled red wine, swimming around with cinnamon and nutmeg, giving the most mouth watering aroma one could smell. The large wooden cheese board was decorated with cheese from every part of the world, even from the smallest country, from the smallest farm and the tiniest place on earth in Romania, a place called Chilia Veche, where little old women would be making cheese from fresh cow milk from the farmer up the road, the smell of the Danube river skipping through the village as they worked hard to make the most milkiest cheese, swiftly moving on with labouring hands onto the goat’s milk to make the richest and smoothest goat cheese one would taste, a cheese so smooth that it would melt on the tip of your tongue.

Along with the cheese, different types of ham and other poultry were arranged perfectly, the thin slices of the mouth watering Pancetta curled and flaked out in artistic and beautiful patterns.

The candles in the living room were being lit by Doojoon, the curtains then drawn and the coffee table cleared for Yoseob’s surprise. He sat himself down on the large brown leather couch, moving the pillows around for Yoseob to lie down and rest his head in his lap, the Shakespeare book that Yoseob had chosen between his fingers. Smiling softly as he the thin and old pages, he looked up lovingly to see his lover come in with the things he had been preparing for almost an hour, setting them down on the table before running back and bringing another wooden board covered in different crackers to go with the cheese, as well as little glass dishes filled with things such as onion, olives, tomatoes, cucumbers and other little things to freshen up the snack.

“My love,” Doojoon whispered softly as he wrapped his fingers around the younger male’s arm, letting his thumb to rub over the thin long sleeve of his v-neck softly, smile only widening as the male looked at him with those large brown eyes he fell in love the second his own eyes met.

Yoseob, returning his smile, sat down and brought his feet up, resting his head in his lap and letting his fingers reach up, grin spreading on those lips of his as he softly ran the pads of his fingers along his jaw. “Yes, baby?”

Turning his head, Doojoon pressed small, loving, innocent kisses to every finger before chuckling lightly and grinning back, running his fingers through his hair before opening the book with his other hand easily, already used to their special routine, turning to the first page of Midsummer Night’s Dream.

Voice smooth and soft, Doojoon spoke the words on the page in perfect English, making Yoseob shiver in pure delight and affection. “Now, fair Hippolyta, our nuptial hour draws on apace; four happy days bring in another moon: but, O, methinks, how slow this old moon wanes! She lingers my desires, like to a step-dame or a dowager long withering out a young man revenue.”

His voice waltzed quietly and passionately around the dimly lit warm room, slipping under the large thick curtains to hide, slipping under cracks of doors to dance some more. “Four days will quickly steep themselves in night; four nights will quickly dream away the time; and then the moon, like to silver bow new-bent in heaven, shall behold the night of our solemnities...”