One week later.
Same city. Different bed. This time… theirs.
The apartment was still half-empty. Boxes stacked in the corner. Curtains not yet hung. But none of that mattered.
Min-Jae stood at the window, shirtless, sipping his coffee. Morning sun kissed his skin. Ji-Hoon watched him from the bed, a lazy smile on his lips.
"You always this quiet in the morning?" he asked, voice hoarse from sleep.
Min-Jae turned, smile soft. "Only when I wake up next to you."
Ji-Hoon stretched, pulling the sheet tighter around his waist. "We really did it, huh? Moved in together like some... soft-boy drama couple."
Min-Jae chuckled, walked over, sat on the edge of the bed. "Yeah. And we're still alive."
Ji-Hoon reached for him, fingers wrapping around his wrist, pulling him down. Their lips met—slow, familiar. No longer hesitant. No longer secret.
This kiss wasn't new.
It was home.
They lay there for a while, tangled in each other. Ji-Hoon's hand traced lazy circles on Min-Jae's back. Neither needed to speak.
They had said it all already—in their touch, in that hotel room, in every breath since.
It hadn't been just a night.
It had been the first step of something real.
End