Minjun returned home after a short morning walk. The air still smelled of wet earth, and rain droplets quietly slid from his hair. He took off his jacket and was about to go to his room when he noticed Hyuk. He was sitting on the couch, holding two cups of tea. Steam rose from the cups, and a faint jasmine aroma filled the room.
"You're back already," Hyuk said, his voice soft, but a little quieter than usual.
Minjun came closer and sat down next to him. His heart involuntarily tightened: a shadow of anxiety flickered in Hyuk's eyes - deep, saturated blue, like the evening sea.
"Is something wrong?" he asked cautiously, looking at his face.
Hyuk hesitated, moving a mug closer. "Everything's fine at the store. But... I wanted to talk."
The words were difficult for him to say. His shoulders were slightly tense, and his fingers gripped the cup too tightly. Minjun reached out and gently touched his knee.
"I'm here. Talk to me," he said quietly.
And as if those words had opened a floodgate, Hyuk began to speak. About his fears that the store might not withstand the competition. About how difficult it was to balance business and personal life. About how sometimes he felt on the edge, as if any wrong move would destroy everything.
"Sometimes I think," his voice trembled, "that if I make a mistake... you'll leave."
Minjun froze, but then gently took his face in his hands and made him look into his eyes.
"I won't leave," he said firmly but tenderly. "Even if everything falls apart, I'll stay. You can be yourself around me."
Hyuk's gaze wavered. He exhaled, and with that exhale, the tension left him. He rested his head on Minjun's shoulder, and the silence between them became deep and honest. Minjun put his arms around his shoulders, feeling the older man's heart gradually calm down.
For a while, they sat like that, simply listening to the rhythm of each other's breathing. And then Hyuk straightened up and, as if shaking off the heavy thoughts, let out a quiet chuckle.
"Maybe we should go for a walk?" he suggested.
Minjun smiled. "I'd love to."
The streets were wet from the rain. Streetlights reflected in the puddles, and the wind played with their hair. Hyuk held Minjun's hand, and the touch was simple but reliable.
"You always hold on so tight," Minjun said quietly, laughing.
"So you don't run away," Hyuk replied, pulling him a little closer.
Minjun felt shy, but the smile didn't leave his face. They walked side by side, exchanging glances, joking about passersby, and arguing about what movie to watch in the evening. It all seemed simple and easy, but it was these moments that warmed him the most.
They stopped on a bridge. The river flowed slowly, reflecting the golden light of the streetlights. The wind brushed against their cheeks, and Minjun noticed that Hyuk shivered slightly. Without thinking, he took off his scarf and wrapped it around the older man's neck.
"You're cold," Minjun said, adjusting the edge of the fabric. Their fingers met for a moment, and that simple touch sent a shiver down his spine.
Hyuk held his hand and said quietly:
"You always take care of me."
Minjun blushed, not knowing what to say, and just leaned in, lightly touching his lips to his forehead. Hyuk closed his eyes and smiled, and that expression held more gratitude than words.
The house greeted them with warmth. They took off their wet jackets, exchanging a few jokes about who got wetter. Then they settled on the couch, covered by a single blanket. An old movie played quietly on the screen, but neither of them was following the plot.
Minjun put his head on Hyuk's shoulder, and Hyuk wrapped his arm around his waist. Their breathing gradually synchronized, and all the noise of the city was left somewhere outside the windows.
"It's good that we went out," Minjun murmured.
"It's good that we came back," Hyuk replied, squeezing him a little closer.
Minjun closed his eyes. He felt the warmth next to him, heard the steady rhythm of Hyuk's heart, and understood that in moments like these, words weren't necessary.
The quiet tremor in his chest gradually subsided, giving way to a sense of calm. And then he noticed something else - barely perceptible, but painfully familiar. A light, subtle wave of pheromones was emanating from Hyuk. Not aggressive, not dominant - warm, soft, like a gentle caress. It enveloped the space, as if promising protection and peace.
Minjun took a deep breath. His body responded almost immediately: his heart slowed its pace, his breathing became more even, and the tension dissolved like melting snow.
He smiled through his drowsiness and pressed closer to Hyuk, allowing himself to fully trust this quiet strength.