Six Months Later
The golden light of late afternoon filtered through the windows of the café, casting everything in soft hues. The scent of pastries, coffee, and laughter lingered in the air. The place had grown livelier again over the past months — a symbol of peace, healing, and reclaimed joy.
At a large corner table near the window, Beomgyu sat with Yeonjun beside him. Across from them, Soobin leaned comfortably against Kai, while Taehyun sipped from his cup, playfully bickering with Kai about who made the better caramel latte.
It was a sight none of them had thought they'd ever see again — all of them together, laughing, relaxed, whole.
Yeonjun watched Beomgyu closely, warmth in his eyes. The light bounced off Beomgyu's cheekbones as he smiled at something Soobin said, and in that moment, Yeonjun saw nothing but him. The way his laugh was freer now. The way he leaned in without hesitation. The way his eyes flicked toward Yeonjun now and then — not guarded, not angry… but open.
He's healing, Yeonjun thought. We're healing.
Then suddenly, the room dimmed — and a soft flicker of candles appeared.
Beomgyu blinked, confused as Soobin came forward, grinning and carrying a small cake with softly glowing candles. Taehyun clapped slowly in rhythm, leading the others into a gentle, teasing chorus of "Happy Birthday."
Beomgyu's eyes widened. "What—?"
"Happy Birthday, Gyu," Yeonjun said gently beside him.
Beomgyu turned, his face flushed with surprise. "How did you…?"
Yeonjun gave a small, playful smile. "I had help," he said, glancing toward Soobin, Kai, and Taehyun — who all gave mock-innocent shrugs.
Kai winked. "I might've spilled a few things while being threatened with cake."
"You weren't even threatened," Taehyun snorted. "You offered the info."
"Details."
Beomgyu laughed under his breath, shaking his head. "You guys are unbelievable."
But then, as the candles flickered, Yeonjun stood up beside him. The room quieted slightly. Beomgyu looked up at him, curious — until Yeonjun suddenly lowered to one knee, gently taking Beomgyu's hand in both of his.
Beomgyu froze.
Yeonjun looked up at him, sincerity etched deep in every line of his face.
"I don't want to waste any more time, Gyu," he said softly. "We've been through hell. I broke you once, and every day since then I've fought to become someone worthy of even standing beside you again."
Beomgyu swallowed hard, breath catching.
"I'm not perfect. I still have a long way to go. But if you'd let me… I want to start over with you. Slowly. Gently. No rush, no pressure. Just… us. Honestly. Fully. As we are now."
A long silence.
Beomgyu looked down at their hands — at how Yeonjun held him not like he owned him, but like he respected him. Treasured him.
His heart raced, thoughts swirled — memories both beautiful and broken rising like waves. He remembered the pain. The betrayal. The six years of emptiness.
And then… he remembered the rescue.
The blood.
Yeonjun shielding him with his life.
The apology.
The tears.
The way Yeonjun never once begged — he just waited. He just showed up. Again and again. Quiet. Honest. Steady.
Beomgyu's eyes watered, chest tightening. He took a deep breath.
"I'm still scared," he whispered.
Yeonjun nodded. "Me too."
Beomgyu's fingers trembled… then closed tightly around Yeonjun's.
"Then let's be scared together."
The room held its breath — and then, as Yeonjun slowly stood, Beomgyu leaned in and pressed his lips softly, deeply against his.
It wasn't desperate. It wasn't rushed.
It was full of every word they hadn't said.
Every moment they thought they'd lost.
Every piece they were building back.
Soobin wiped away a tear quietly.
Kai beamed like the sun.
Taehyun muttered, "Finally," before taking a victorious sip of his drink.
And in the golden warmth of the café, surrounded by people who had endured and survived, Beomgyu and Yeonjun kissed like they'd found their way home.
Together.
+×+
One Year Later
The seasons had shifted gently over the past year — from cold, aching winter to blooming spring, and finally to the warm embrace of early summer. Life had finally found rhythm again for everyone who had once stood on the edge of loss and grief.
Yeonjun stood outside a modest home tucked in a quiet neighborhood, a bouquet of flowers trembling slightly in his hands. His palms were damp. His heart beat in his ears. This was more terrifying than any battle he'd fought — because this was about redemption.
He'd asked Beomgyu for the chance to meet his parents — not to win them over with words, but to show them he was no longer the man who walked away.
It took months of careful communication, quiet visits, and heartfelt conversations, but eventually, Beomgyu's parents gave Yeonjun a chance. They were wary, of course, but as they listened — to his sincerity, his remorse, and how he nearly died protecting their son — their walls began to lower.
One evening, after dinner at their house, Beomgyu's mother quietly handed Yeonjun an old photo of a younger Beomgyu.
"He used to smile like this all the time," she said, her voice tight. "Promise me you'll protect that smile this time."
Yeonjun took the photo with trembling hands. "With everything I am."
It was the start of a new bond — fragile, but real.
For Beomgyu, the past year had been both cathartic and difficult. Reuniting with his parents hadn't been easy — especially after disappearing to the U.S. for so long. But the near-death experience, the return, and the support of his friends had cracked something open.
His mother hugged him tighter than she ever had before.
His father awkwardly patted his shoulder, eyes suspiciously red.
They never asked too many questions — not at first — just happy to have him back, safe.
And slowly, Beomgyu allowed himself to come home again — not just in a physical space, but emotionally, too.
He even started journaling again — writing about hope, about grief, and the slow, steady return of love.
+×+
Back at the café, which had grown wildly successful over the past year, Soobin and Kai moved like clockwork — but in the most adorable, chaotic way.
Kai would forget to refill the syrup dispensers, Soobin would playfully scold him, and Kai would fix it by kissing him on the cheek and asking, "Still mad?"
Spoiler: Soobin was never actually mad.
Their relationship had bloomed into something pure, lighthearted, and full of goofy love. They danced in the kitchen when no one was looking. They wrote secret messages on the cups they served each other. Sometimes, when Kai couldn't sleep, he'd sneak into the café at night just to find Soobin there — waiting with warm milk and open arms.
They even talked about adding a member to the picture — possibly getting a cat.
"Or a dog!" Kai argued one night.
"We're not doing this again," Soobin groaned, already laughing.
And then there was Taehyun — the quiet, dependable bridge that held everyone together. He never asked for anything. He was always there — with support, advice, or just a presence that grounded the room.
When Soobin and Kai got too lovey-dovey in public, he'd roll his eyes but smile fondly.
When Beomgyu panicked before seeing his parents again, Taehyun was the one driving the car, holding his hand on the way.
When Yeonjun felt unworthy and unsure of where he stood, Taehyun reminded him of how far he'd come.
He didn't need to be loud to be impactful.
He was family.
+×+
On this particular day — exactly one year after the chaos — they all gathered again at Soobin's café, closed early just for the occasion.
The table was set near the window. The sunlight bathed the room in soft gold.
Beomgyu sat between Yeonjun and Taehyun, cheeks tinged with warmth as Yeonjun slid a small velvet box toward him.
"No, it's not a ring," Yeonjun said quickly with a laugh. "It's just… a promise."
Beomgyu opened it. Inside, a small silver necklace with a pendant shaped like a phoenix — rising from the ashes.
Beomgyu stared at it, then looked up at Yeonjun with misty eyes.
Yeonjun reached for his hand. "We both burned. But look at us now."
Beomgyu smiled.
Then leaned in to kiss him — slow, sure, and full of quiet triumph.
In the background, Kai cheered obnoxiously. Soobin told him to stop. Taehyun rolled his eyes and took a picture anyway.
And in that moment — filled with love, light, and the warmth of those who chose each other again and again — everything felt right.
They had survived.
They had healed.
And they were finally, truly happy.