4

The car hummed gently beneath them, a sleek black vehicle gliding through the city under a deep navy sky. The windows were rolled slightly down, letting in the warm summer air, and the faint sound of traffic mixed with a soft playlist playing over the speakers—acoustic, inoffensive, clearly curated to set a mood.

Minho was behind the wheel.

White button-down sleeves rolled up, one hand casually resting on the wheel, the other adjusting the air conditioning every few minutes like he was trying to make the silence comfortable.

Felix sat in the passenger seat, hands folded in his lap, eyes flicking between the road and the glowing city lights outside.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then—

“So…” Minho started, voice a little too upbeat, “I thought maybe after this drive, we could stop by that new dessert café near the bridge? I heard they serve these soufflé pancakes you’d probably like.”

Felix turned to him, an amused eyebrow raised. “Soufflé pancakes?”

Minho grinned. “Light, fluffy. Overpriced. But very aesthetic. Just your type.”

Felix let out a soft chuckle.

Minho relaxed a little at that. “And if that’s not your thing, I also booked us a spot at that rooftop place you mentioned before. You know—just in case.”

Felix blinked, genuinely surprised. “You remembered?”

“Of course,” Minho said, almost too quickly.

There was a beat of silence.

Minho drummed his fingers on the steering wheel, eyes still on the road. “I know I haven’t been... great, lately. I’ve been busy. But I want this to work. Really.”

Felix looked at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Then, with a small smile, he leaned back against the seat and said quietly—

“You don’t have to try that hard.”

Minho blinked, glancing over.

Felix continued, voice calm but honest. “We can go slow. We don’t have to pretend we’re something we’re not yet. I’m okay with getting to know you first—really know you—before rushing into the perfect-future fantasy.”

Minho’s fingers stilled.

Then slowly—

He smiled.

Not the practiced, polished one.

But a real, tired, grateful one.

“…That actually makes me feel a lot better,” he admitted.

Felix smiled back, softer this time.

And something shifted in the car.

The atmosphere relaxed. The silence turned companionable. The music blended into the background again.

And for the first time since they got engaged—

It didn’t feel like they were playing a part.

It just felt... normal.

-------

The car pulled up to a quiet corner of the city, where the windows of a quaint dessert café glowed softly under hanging fairy lights. The sign above read “Sugar & Moon” in delicate cursive, and the scent of fresh cream and fruit wafted out with every opening of the door.

Inside, the atmosphere was warm and low-lit, with soft jazz humming through the air and couples huddled over pastries and shared lattes.

Minho and Felix stepped in together, dressed casually but somehow still standing out.

Felix looked around, taking in the cozy setup with wide eyes. “It’s cute.”

Minho smirked. “Told you. Aesthetic.”

They were seated near the window, in a booth with plush cushions and a small lamp between them that glowed gold against the night outside.

---

A server approached with a polite smile. “What can I get you both?”

Minho didn’t look at the menu. “The soufflé pancakes. One strawberry, one matcha. And two coffees.”

Felix tilted his head. “You really didn’t forget anything, huh.”

“I told you.” Minho leaned back, relaxed now. “I pay attention.”

Felix smiled, leaning his elbow on the table and watching the cars pass by outside.

The silence between them felt... easier. Like they were no longer trying to impress or avoid—just be.

---

When the pancakes arrived, they looked like soft clouds dusted in powdered sugar and decorated with cream, fresh fruit, and delicate syrup lines.

Felix’s eyes lit up. “Holy sh*t—”

“Told you.” Minho chuckled. “Go on, taste it.”

Felix cut into the strawberry one, letting the fork sink through the warm, jiggly center before taking a bite.

He closed his eyes. “Okay. This? This is dangerous.”

Minho laughed. A real, low one.

They ate quietly after that, passing the plates back and forth, comparing flavors. Felix wiped whipped cream from the corner of his mouth with a napkin. Minho took a picture of the food and snuck a quick photo of Felix smiling without telling him.

Not for social media.

Just... for himself.

---

When the plates were nearly empty and the café started to slow down, Minho reached for his coffee and asked quietly—

“Why did you say yes?”

Felix blinked, caught off guard.

“To the engagement,” Minho clarified, eyes not on him. “You had a choice. Didn’t you?”

Felix looked at his coffee. Then at the lights above. Then back at Minho.

“I guess... I wanted to be a good son,” he said softly. “My parents wanted it. And I thought... maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.”

Minho didn’t say anything.

But his eyes softened.

“Do you regret it?” Felix asked back.

Minho exhaled slowly. “No. Not right now.”

They held each other’s gaze for a beat longer than necessary.

Then Felix smiled again. Smaller, but real.

Minho looked away with a small smirk. “Wipe that whipped cream off your nose before someone thinks I kidnapped a child.”

Felix rolled his eyes. “Asshole.”

Minho laughed.

---

And for the first time since their engagement—

They both forgot that any of it was arranged.

Even if just for the night.

---

It was Sunday.

The kind of slow, golden morning that felt like the world had finally exhaled.

Felix padded quietly down the hallway, wearing loose sweatpants and a pale cream knit sweater that still smelled faintly of lavender detergent. His hair was slightly messy from sleep, but his eyes were alert, scanning the house.

He hadn’t seen Hyunjin since the night before last. Not at dinner. Not in the halls. Not even his usual presence in the studio.

Something about it left an odd hum beneath Felix’s skin.

---

He asked one of the maids near the back hallway, her hands full of clean laundry.

“Where’s Hyunjin?”

She blinked, startled. “I... I think he’s in his room, sir. But I’m not sure. I haven’t seen him come out since yesterday morning.”

Felix nodded slowly. “Okay. Thanks.”

His curiosity deepened.

---

When he reached the kitchen, one of the chefs was preparing a breakfast tray—toast, poached eggs, sliced fruits, and black coffee—clearly meant for Hyunjin.

“I’ll take that to him,” Felix said casually, reaching for the tray.

The staff member paused. “Oh—sure. Thank you, sir.”

He carried it carefully up the stairs.

Stopped in front of a tall wooden door at the far end.

Hyunjin’s room.

He hesitated.

Then knocked.

No response.

Another knock.

Still nothing.

Felix sighed and quietly pushed the door open.

---

The room was surprisingly dim, curtains drawn tight and only a faint hum of music playing from a speaker near the bookshelf. It smelled like coffee that had been made and abandoned, and faintly of paint and cologne.

Hyunjin lay tangled in his dark grey sheets, head half-buried in the pillow, his back to the door. His usually styled hair was a mess of soft black strands, and his breathing was slow, deep.

So he was here all along.

Felix placed the tray gently on the side table and walked over to the windows, pulling the curtains apart slowly.

Sunlight spilled into the room, warm and golden.

A groan came from the bed.

Then movement.

Hyunjin blinked blearily, one eye squinting open, the other still buried in the pillow.

He looked at Felix with confusion clouding his features, voice rough and low from sleep.

“This is the first time I’ve actually seen you in your bed,” Felix said quietly, a small smile tugging at his lips, “and not buried in that studio.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes slowly, sitting up and letting the blanket fall to his waist. His shirt was wrinkled from sleep, collar stretched slightly, exposing a pale collarbone and the lazy arch of his shoulder.

“What are you doing here?” he muttered, voice heavy and scratchy.

Felix crossed his arms, leaning against the edge of the dresser.

“You didn’t eat dinner last night. You weren’t at breakfast either. I thought you might be... dead or something.”

Hyunjin arched a brow, unimpressed.

Felix gestured toward the tray. “So I brought you food. You’re welcome.”

Hyunjin stared at the tray, then at Felix.

Then gave the tiniest nod.

“Hmm.”

Just that.

Felix smiled a little wider, half-sarcastic. “Wow. The gratitude’s overwhelming.”

Hyunjin reached for the coffee first, fingers still sleepy, voice barely above a murmur.

“Don’t get used to it.”

But he took a sip.

And for the first time in what felt like days—

Felix saw the edge of exhaustion in his face.

The kind that sleep didn’t fix.

The kind you didn’t talk about.

And for some reason, instead of leaving—

Felix stayed.

Quiet.

Just for a moment.

Letting the sun soak into the silence.

---

Hyunjin ate slowly, quietly, still half-lost in sleep. Felix stayed nearby, leaning on the edge of the dresser, arms crossed, occasionally watching him with the corner of his eye—but not saying much.

Just existing in the same space.

The jazz from the hallway speaker had faded into silence, and the only sounds were the occasional clink of cutlery and the soft hum of the air conditioner.

By the time Hyunjin set the empty coffee cup down and placed the tray back on the side table, Felix straightened.

“Well, look at that.” He stepped forward, teasing smirk on his lips. “Clean plate and everything.”

Hyunjin gave him a dry look.

Without warning, Felix reached out and ruffled his already-messy hair, fingers brushing through soft black strands.

“Good boy.”

Hyunjin stared up at him, one brow arched dangerously, lips slightly parted in offense.

Felix was already backing away, laughing under his breath. “Alright, alright, I’m joking. Jeez.”

He turned to grab the tray.

But before he could fully leave, Hyunjin’s voice stopped him.

Low. Unbothered. Almost like a throwaway comment.

“Hey.”

Felix glanced back, surprised.

Hyunjin didn’t look at him. Just leaned back against the headboard, fingers casually pulling at the loose thread on his sleeve.

“You like playing basketball?”

Felix blinked. “…Yeah. A little.”

Hyunjin finally looked up, meeting his eyes with that unreadable expression of his.

“I’m bored.”A pause.“Go to the back. Court’s there. I’ll be down in five.”

Felix stared.

“Are you—seriously?”

Hyunjin smirked, already sliding out of bed, feet touching the cold floor.

“Don’t make me change my mind, rookie.”

Felix rolled his eyes—but his lips twitched into a smile he couldn’t quite fight.

“…Alright. I’ll go warm up. Don’t take a year.”

Hyunjin grabbed a fresh hoodie off the chair near his closet and muttered without looking—

“Don’t cry when I win.”

Felix left the room with the tray, shaking his head.

This wasn’t how the morning was supposed to go.

But somehow—

He didn’t mind.

------

The sun was high enough to warm the court but low enough not to blind them. A gentle breeze tugged at the trees in the Hwang estate’s private garden, rustling the leaves as Felix dribbled the basketball with a concentrated frown.

He was already sweating from a light warm-up—but that didn’t stop him from rolling his sleeves up to his elbows and squinting across the court like he was in the NBA finals.

Then—

“Took you long enough!”Felix turned.

Hyunjin strolled out from the back door, hair still a little messy from sleep, a dark hoodie clinging to his frame and joggers hanging a little too well on his hips. He was holding a bottle of water and that smug, taunting expression that meant he was ready to fight someone. Emotionally.

“Wow,” Felix said, smirking. “You clean up well for someone who couldn’t form words twenty minutes ago.”

Hyunjin scoffed. “You’ll be speechless in two.”

“Keep dreaming.”

---

They started slow—passing, shooting, casual back-and-forth. But the competitiveness crept in fast.

Felix was quick.

Hyunjin was smoother.

There were stolen passes, exaggerated fouls, dramatic yells of “CHEATER!” and sarcastic bowing whenever one of them scored.

Felix missed a layup once and screamed “I WAS DISTRACTED BY YOUR FACE.”

Hyunjin snorted so hard he nearly dropped the ball.

They were laughing.

Really laughing.

The kind that made your chest ache in the good way. The kind that made you forget for a moment that you were technically supposed to hate each other.

---

“Okay—last one. Winner takes all,” Hyunjin declared, sweat glistening on his jaw as he bounced the ball.

Felix wiped his forehead with his sleeve. “All of what, exactly?”

Hyunjin smirked. “My eternal respect.”

“Gross. Keep it.”

Hyunjin lunged forward with a sudden move—Felix shrieked (yes, shrieked) and tried to block him, both of them laughing breathlessly.

They collided mid-court.

Hard.

The ball bounced away.

Hyunjin lost his balance.

Felix tried to steady him—but momentum was a traitor.

They tumbled.

Right onto the court.

Hyunjin landed on top of Felix.

---

Time stilled.

Their laughter stopped.

Felix’s hands were splayed against Hyunjin’s chest, eyes wide.

Hyunjin’s breath hitched—his lips barely an inch from Felix’s, dark eyes blinking down at him, strands of hair falling over his face.

Neither moved.

Neither spoke.

Then—

It happened.

Accidental. Soft. Stupid.

A kiss.

Barely a second.

A brush of lips.

So fast it could’ve been blamed on gravity or adrenaline or anything else.

But it happened.

And when Hyunjin pulled back—stunned—Felix was staring up at him like he couldn’t quite believe it either.

Neither said a word.

Hyunjin slowly stood, offering a hand to help Felix up like nothing happened.

Felix took it.

Brushed dirt off his hoodie.

------

The basketball rolled to the edge of the court, forgotten.

Felix sat on the low bench near the wall, sipping cold water, cheeks still flushed from the heat—and maybe not just the heat. Hyunjin stood a few feet away, facing the other direction, wiping his neck with the edge of his shirt.

Neither of them spoke about it.

The kiss.

That not-quite-a-kiss.

That moment.

It just… hung in the air like invisible smoke.

Never happened.That was the silent agreement.

---

Felix opened his mouth once—maybe to joke, maybe to ask something—but his phone buzzed with a message from Han, and he took it as a distraction. Hyunjin, on the other hand, had barely checked his phone all morning—until it started ringing.

Loud.

Shrill.

He flinched slightly, fishing it out of his pocket.

The screen lit up:

📞 BORA

Hyunjin cursed under his breath. “Sh*t.”

He picked up.

“What?”

Her voice on the other end was fast, annoyed. “What do you mean ‘what’? You were supposed to finalize the drafts today. You’re MIA. So guess what—I’m outside your house.”

Hyunjin blinked. “You’re what?”

“I’m literally at your f*cking gate, Hyunjin. If we don’t wrap this today, production’s delayed two weeks. I already told you—no more reschedules.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

Felix glanced at him, curious.

“…Fine. Come in,” Hyunjin muttered.

Then he hung up and turned toward the house, already walking away.

Felix stood. “Work call?”

Hyunjin barely glanced back. “Yup.”

A beat.

“You coming back out here?”

“Nope.”

Another beat.

Felix hesitated, wanting to ask more—should have asked more—but instead, he just gave a tight nod.

“Right. I’ll go shower, then.”

Hyunjin gave a distracted hum, already halfway inside.

They didn’t look at each other again.

And the kiss?

That never happened.

------

Inside, twenty minutes later, Hyunjin walked into the main lounge, barefoot and still slightly damp from a rushed rinse, wearing a loose white tee and black sweatpants. Bora sat on the couch, laptop open, heels kicked off, tablet glowing with drafts and notes.

She looked up, unimpressed.

“You look like someone got kissed and ran away from their own soul.”

Hyunjin rolled his eyes. “Shut up.”

She smirked.

“You forgot I can read your face better than your f*cking handwriting, right?”

He flopped beside her. “Just open the damn file.”

“Mhmm. Let’s get to it, lover boy.”

-------

The room was quiet.

Dim, save for the soft amber glow of the bedside lamp and the faint hum of the ceiling fan. The curtains were half-drawn, letting in slivers of warm late-afternoon sunlight that danced lazily across the wooden floor.

Felix lay flat on his bed, hoodie slightly wrinkled from earlier, sweatpants pulled up over his knees, one arm flopped dramatically over his face.

He was a mess.

Not on the outside.

But inside?

A certified disaster.

---

His heart had calmed down.His breathing was normal.

But his brain?

Nope. Absolutely losing it.

He let his hand drift slowly from his forehead to his lips.

His thumb ghosted over them. Once. Then again.

As if somehow that brief, stupid, accidental touch had branded him.

“That wasn’t even a kiss,” he muttered to himself.

His voice sounded weirdly high and defensive in the quiet room.

“It was just—momentum. Physics. Gravity. We fell. That’s it.”

He exhaled loudly.

Turned on his side.

Then rolled to the other side.

Then covered his face with the pillow and screamed silently into it.

Because no matter how many times he told himself it was just a mistake—

His cheeks were still burning.

He sat up suddenly, hugging the pillow to his chest.

“I didn’t even want to kiss him.”

A pause.

“Right?”

Another pause.

“…Right?!”

He buried his face again, groaning into the cotton.

His phone buzzed somewhere near the edge of the bed, but he ignored it.

He was too busy trying to erase the memory of Hyunjin’s eyes that close.Hyunjin’s voice.Hyunjin’s breath.Hyunjin’s everything.

---

Because yeah.

Maybe it wasn’t even a kiss.

But it felt like something.

And that scared him more than anything else.

---