Chapter Text
Beomgyu had been awake since five.
The apartment was still quiet, wrapped in that strange hour when everything felt suspended. The refrigerator hummed too loudly, competing with the occasional rattling of pipes somewhere behind the walls.
He stood at the kitchen counter, the cutting board already nicked and worn from months of use, slicing apples with careful precision. Not because they needed to be perfect, but because he needed the motion. Something steady, controlled, something he could finish cleanly.
Arms came around him from behind, solid and warm, a chest pressing into his back.
“Since when are you awake?”, Soobin asked and then kissed the mark on Beomgyu’s neck over the turtle neck he was wearing.
Even now, even after everything, it made Beomgyu shiver.
“Five,” he said quietly. “I tried to go back to sleep. Gave up.”
Soobin hummed, thumbs brushing over Beomgyu’s hips. “You should’ve woken me.”
“You were dead asleep,” Beomgyu replied. “Mouth breathing and all.” He grinned as he held out a slice of apple. Soobin bit into it without protest, immediately tugging Beomgyu closer.
“I thought,” Soobin said gravely while chewing, “we agreed not to discuss my condition.”
“I’m the main victim,” Beomgyu shot back, setting the knife aside and wiping his hands. “I have a right to complain.”
“Ah, I’ve put you through a lot, uhm?” Soobin said, turning him gently until they were face to face. “I’ll work on it, baby. Promise.”
Soobin looked half-awake, hair sticking up, eyes warm but with faint shadows beneath his eyes. New ones, or maybe older ones Beomgyu had only recently started noticing.
“Are you—?”
“I’m fine, I mean it”, Beomgyu said, hands smoothing down Soobin’s hair. “I even had time to make a big breakfast”.
“That looks good,” Soobin said, glancing at the dining table, a spread of food ready. “Thank you.”
Beomgyu leaned forward and kissed him softly. “Go shower,” he murmured.
Soobin immediately kissed him again, longer this time.
Beomgyu laughed against his mouth.
“Seriously.”
“Five more minutes.”
“No.”
“Cruel.”
“C’mon, get ready while I wake Haneul.”
Soobin looked at him again like that.
“Are you sure?” He asked. “I can—”
“I know,” Beomgyu interrupted gently. “I’ll do it.”
Soobin hesitated, then nodded. He lingered just long enough for Soobin to steal another quick kiss before letting him go.
The hallway creaked faintly as Beomgyu walked down it, he knew exactly which boards made noise by now. Third one near the bathroom. One near the laundry closet. The apartment had become muscle memory years ago.
Haneul’s little room was already washed in soft morning light when he stepped inside. It had originally been meant to be some kind of office space connected to the master bedroom, separated only by a partial wall and an opening where a door should’ve been, but months ago they’d squeezed a crib in there and decided it worked well enough.
Right now, Haneul was standing inside said crib, tiny fingers curled around the railing, hair sticking up wildly in every direction.
“Were you waiting for me?” Beomgyu lifted her up, peppering her cheeks with kisses until she squealed.
“Mo–mo–my,” she babbled.
“Yes,” Beomgyu said softly. “Mommy’s getting you ready.”
The routine followed: diaper, clothes, socks that never stayed on. Beomgyu moved carefully, making sure he wasn’t forgetting anything.
Today was Haneul first’s day of daycare.
He’d told himself for weeks this was a good thing.
Normal.
Healthy.
Parents worked.
Children adjusted.
Lives moved forward.
Still, it didn’t sit right. Haneul was only a year old. She’d spent every day of her life with him, every nap, every cry, every small milestone. He’d been there for all of it. Sometimes that thought comforted him.
Sometimes it scared him.
His stomach twisted.
And then, Haneul grabbed his nose, forcing himself back into the moment.
“Sorry, Hani”
She smiled at him.
He swallowed and focused on fastening her buttons.
x-o-x
A few minutes later, the three of them were seated around their small dining table. This time, Soobin was the one feeding Haneul, even though Beomgyu had insisted he could do it himself.
Haneul kicked her feet happily, a spoonful of mashed sweet potatoes hovering in front of her mouth.
“Open wide,” Soobin murmured, soft and ridiculous about it.
Beomgyu watched them, something tender loosening in his chest. But then, his gaze drifted to the kitchen counter.
The basket was impossible to miss.
Big, heavy, the kind that came wrapped in linen instead of plastic. Imported jam, artisanal crackers, chocolates with gold lettering, a bottle of wine that absolutely did not belong in their fridge next to their cheap beer.
Beomgyu sighed. Loudly.
“So,” Soobin said, not looking up as he guided the spoon back to Haneul’s mouth. “Are you and Beomyeon still fighting?”
“We’re not fighting,” Beomgyu said immediately.
Soobin glanced at him. One eyebrow went up.
“She’s just… intense,” Beomgyu continued, waving a hand toward the basket. “She still treats me like I’m twelve. Like I need a consolation every time something happens.”
“So what you’re saying,” Soobin said, spoon hoovering in the middle of the air, “is that she loves you.”
“That’s not the point.”
Haneul slapped her hands against the table. “Dada!”, she demanded.
“Okay, okay,” Soobin laughed. “I’m sorry, Your Highness.”
“She still sees me as a baby,” Beomgyu continued, quieter now. “Even though I already have one.”
Soobin’s expression softened. “You always will be, to her.”
Beomgyu huffed. “That’s not comforting.”
“Well,” Soobin said, lips twitching as he wiped Haneul’s chin, “if it helps, I see you as a fully functional adult.”
Beomgyu snorted. “Hani, your dad is making fun of me”.
Haneul laughed, delighted by the attention.
After breakfast, Beomgyu checked his reflection at least five times in the narrow mirror by the entrance, smoothing down invisible wrinkles from his shirt, adjusting the fall of his hair behind his ears, then checking again just to make sure nothing had somehow changed in the last three seconds.
Behind him, Soobin crouched near the door, struggling to force Haneul’s tiny sneakers onto feet that clearly had other plans.
“Stay still for five seconds,” he muttered.
Haneul giggled and kicked harder.
Beomgyu glanced over his shoulder.
“You put them on the wrong feet.”
Soobin looked down.
“…No, I didn’t.”
“You literally did.”
A pause.
“…I was testing you.”
Beomgyu rolled his eyes, grabbing his coat from the hook beside the door. By the time he turned back around, Soobin had finally managed to get Haneul settled against his chest, baby carrier strapped securely over his shoulders.
Immediately, Beomgyu frowned.
“You’re carrying her?”
Soobin looked confused.
“Yes?”
“Your back was hurting yesterday.”
“I’m fine.”
“You said that yesterday too”.
“The stroller is annoying on the bus.”
“The stroller exists for a reason.”
“She likes being carried.”
As if summoned, Haneul grabbed a fistful of Soobin’s shirt and let out an approving babble.
Soobin smirked.
“See? I have public support.”
Beomgyu sighed but stepped closer anyway, adjusting one of the straps digging into Soobin’s shoulder.
“You’re impossible.”
“You married me voluntarily.”
“That was years ago. I was young and vulnerable.”
Soobin laughed quietly.
“I’m serious, you can’t carry her everywhere.”
“She weighs like five kilos. And the walk to the bus station is like 10 minutes.”
“But you have to walk 10 more minutes to her daycare”.
“It’s fine, I work out”.
“You used to work out”.
Soobin smiled, clearly enjoying himself.
Beomgyu frowned, glancing briefly toward the folded stroller leaning against the wall near the entrance.
“If the car was fixed already, we wouldn’t even have to take the bus and we could take the stroller.”
That made Soobin pause for half a second.
“Did the mechanic call?” Beomgyu asked.
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“It’s fine.”
Beomgyu narrowed his eyes immediately.
“That answer means absolutely nothing.”
Soobin smiled. “I handled it.”
“How much is it?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Soobin.”
“Baby,” he said softly, reaching over to squeeze Beomgyu’s wrist. “It’s under control, okay?”
Beomgyu stared at him for a second longer. Then sighed and bent down to put on his shoes.
He hated when Soobin used that voice. Mostly because it usually meant the conversation was over.
Finally, when they were ready, they stepped into the hallway, the old overhead light flickering weakly above them.
As expected, the elevator was still broken.
It’d been three days.
The OUT OF ORDER sign taped across the doors had been there long enough that someone had drawn a smiley face on it in blue marker.
“I swear this building is trying to kill me,” Beomgyu muttered, staring at the sign.
“Look on the bright side,” Soobin said behind him, shifting Haneul higher in the carrier strapped against his chest. “Free exercise.”
“Oh, so this is why you keep saying you work out?”
Soobin gasped.
“This is a work out!”, he said and then took the diaper bag from him without asking.
Beomgyu let him. Mostly because arguing was pointless at this point.
They started heading down, their footsteps echoing softly through the narrow concrete stairwell. Somewhere below, someone was frying garlic, the smell drifting upward through the building.
“Did you call Mr. Kim?”, Beomgyu asked. Their housing contract was ending soon.
“Ah, right, I’ll get to it”, Soobin said.
“Okay”. In his mind, there wasn’t much to discuss.
Same thing they always did.
Call Mr. Kim. Talk about Haneul so he wouldn’t raise their monthly rent. Maybe finally get him to fix the loose kitchen cabinet that had been threatening to fall apart for almost a year now.
And then, renew the contract.
“Minho was telling me about this new apartment complex near our office,” Soobin said as they turned the next landing, voice casual enough that Beomgyu barely paid attention. “Apparently it’s one of those newly built—”
A door suddenly flew open hard enough to make all three of them flinch.
Jiah stood in the hallway still wearing her work clothes, glaring daggers at her husband, who stood frozen in the doorway behind her, tie half undone.
Beomgyu slowed down, just a little.
“You always do this,” she snapped.
“I said I forgot once.”
“You forgot our anniversary.”
“It slipped my mind!”
Then both of them noticed the audience.
“Oh.” Jiah straightened slightly. “Morning.”
Her husband awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck.
“Morning,” Soobin answered easily.
“Morning,” Beomgyu echoed.
Against Soobin’s chest, Haneul let out an excited squeal.
Jiah’s entire expression softened. “Good morning, Haneul!”
Haneul responded by waving one tiny hand.
Cute.
Then, Jiah turned right back toward her husband.
“And you’re still sleeping on the couch.”
“I said I was sorry!”
The door slammed so hard the stairwell rattled.
For a second, silence.
Then they kept walking.
A few steps later, Soobin leaned closer.
“You think they’ll get divorced this year?”
Beomgyu elbowed him immediately.
“Shut up.”
“I’m just saying, statistically speaking—”
“You’re awful.”
Soobin laughed under his breath. “Anyway,” he said, “as I was saying… this apartment complex looks nice. They’re doing some kind of family benefits thing too”
Beomgyu looked over his shoulder.
“What does that even mean?”
“I don’t know. Lower rates, I think.”
“Sounds expensive.”
Soobin shrugged.
“Maybe.”
Beomgyu ran one hand absently over the stair rail.
“I mean…” Soobin continued, adjusting Haneul on his chest. “Eventually we’ll probably need more space.”
Beomgyu frowned.
“For what?”
Soobin looked down at Haneul.
“She’s getting bigger.”
“She can barely say banana.”
“She said babay this morning.”
“That’s not a word.”
“It counts.”
Beomgyu smiled despite himself.
Then shook his head.
“We’re fine here.”
And they were.
Sure, the apartment was small.
The walls were thin enough that Beomgyu knew exactly when Jiah fought with her husband. And probably all their neighbors knew every time he and Soobin had sex (which wasn’t that often since Haneul was born).
And well, the bathroom door jammed during humid weather.
The windows rattled when it rained.
But it had been theirs for a long time now.
So, really, it wasn’t that shitty.
As they reached the second floor landing, someone appeared coming up from below.
Mrs. Han.
She was carrying two grocery bags that somehow looked heavier than she did, her small frame moving slowly but steadily as she climbed.
The second she spotted them, she stopped.
Her sharp gaze moved over the three of them with the same silent scrutiny she seemed to reserve for everyone unfortunate enough to live in the building.
First Soobin.
Still carrying Haneul against his chest.
Then the diaper bag hanging from his shoulder.
Then Beomgyu.
Walking beside him completely empty-handed.
Her lips pressed into a thin line immediately.
“Leaving early?” she asked.
“Yes, ahjumma,” Soobin answered with practiced politeness.
Mrs. Han said nothing after that.
She simply looked at Beomgyu for a second longer. Long enough that Beomgyu could practically hear the judgment forming in her head.
Then she gave a quiet disapproving huff and continued climbing past them.
Beomgyu turned his head slowly.
“…Did she just judge me for not carrying my own child?”
“She judges everyone,” Soobin said easily.
Beomgyu narrowed his eyes.
“No, I’m serious. I felt that one personally.”
Soobin grinned.
“I think she likes me better.”
“Ew,” Beomgyu said immediately. “Don’t say that.”
That earned a quiet laugh from Soobin, the sound echoing softly against the concrete walls.
Beomgyu smiled despite himself and carefully stepped over one of the uneven stairs they’d both been complaining about for months now.
“We could renovate again,” he said after a second. “I think Haneul is into yellow lately.”
Behind him, Soobin’s hand came to rest lightly against the small of his back, steadying him as they kept descending.
“Yeah,” Soobin said after a second. “Sounds good.”
Too quiet.
Beomgyu glanced over his shoulder.
Soobin was adjusting Haneul higher against his chest again.
Does his back hurt?
“We should’ve taken the stroller”, Beomgyu said, pausing near the last flight of stairs and glancing back again.
“We’re fine”, Soobin said, stepping down and standing beside Beomgyu now. “You worry too much.”
Before he could answer—
“Oh! Beomgyu-hyung!”
They both looked toward the first floor.
Yejun stood by the mailboxes in his wrinkled school uniform, one earbud hanging loose around his neck while his mother searched through her purse beside him.
“Morning, Yejun,” Beomgyu said with an easy smile as they descended the last few steps.
Yejun immediately straightened.
“Hyung, you cut your hair?”
“I didn’t,” Beomgyu said.
Yejun grinned anyway.
“Oh, okay. You look really nice today.”
Beside him, Yejun’s mother sighed. “Please ignore him.”
Beomgyu laughed.
And then—
Yejun noticed Soobin, who had literally been standing beside him the whole time.
“...You’re still here?”, Yejun said, an annoyed look on his face.
“Good morning to you too.”
Yejun crossed his arms.
“I was hoping you’d moved out.”
Soobin looked genuinely delighted. “That hurts. I thought we were getting closer.”
“We’re not.”
“You held the elevator for me last week.”
“The elevator was already open.”
“That still counts.”
“It doesn’t.”
Haneul suddenly let out a loud squeal, kicking excitedly against Soobin’s chest.
“Oh. Hi, Haneul!”
Beomgyu shook his head, smiling to himself as he adjusted the sleeve of his coat.
“Come on,” he said. “We’ll miss the bus.”
Soobin fell into step beside him, Haneul babbling happily against his chest.
“Bye, Beomgyu-hyung! Bye, Haneul!”
A pause.
Soobin snorted.
“See you later, kid.”
“Don’t come back!”
That made Beomgyu laugh again as they stepped out into the cool morning air.
x-o-x
On the bus, a pair of elderly women sitting behind him had immediately noticed Haneul.
“Oh, look at those cheeks,” one of them cooed, leaning forward just enough to make Haneul stare back in fascination.
“She’s so cute,” the other said.
Soobin, standing beside Beomgyu with one hand hooked around the overhead rail, smiled at them. “Thank you.”
Now that the bus had filled up, Beomgyu had gathered Haneul back into his arms and settled into one of the reserved seats near the front. She sat happily on his lap, tiny fingers curled around the collar of his coat while absentmindedly chewing on her toy.
“And she’s so calm,” one woman said warmly. “You two must feel very lucky.”
Lucky.
Beomgyu smiled automatically.
“Yes,” he murmured.
Across from him, the city blurred past in familiar fragments through the scratched bus windows — convenience stores opening for the morning rush, office workers clutching paper cups of coffee, students dragging themselves toward school with the same exhausted expressions.
Normal.
Everything looked so painfully normal.
Beside him, Soobin shifted his weight as the bus turned sharply, one hand instinctively coming down to steady himself against the back of Beomgyu’s seat.
Beomgyu’s gaze flickered to him immediately.
Maybe they should have taken a taxi instead.
But taxis were expensive, and they were paying for daycare now.
The thought sat unpleasantly in his stomach.
Haneul babbled something incoherent and reached up, grabbing a fistful of his hair hard enough to sting.
“Ow.”
One of the women laughed.
“She’s strong.”
Beomgyu smiled again.
But he barely heard her.
Because suddenly—
all he could think about was later.
Walking into a building full of strangers.
Remembering how to be normal again.
Remembering how to be himself outside of being somebody’s husband.
Somebody’s parent.
The bus stopped with a sharp hiss of brakes.
Too soon.
And somehow—
not soon enough.
It wasn’t until they were standing in front of the towering glass building that the nerves he’d been quietly pushing aside finally caught up to him.
His new office reflected the morning sunlight so brightly he had to squint.
Today wasn’t just Haneul’s first day at daycare.
It was also his first day back at work.
After over a year.
His grip tightened around Soobin’s hand before he realized he was doing it.
“Gyu,” Soobin murmured, squeezing back immediately. “You’re going to be amazing.”
Beomgyu let out a small, shaky breath. “What if they hate me?”
Soobin just leaned closer, Haneul between them. “They won’t.”
“You say that like it’s a fact.”
“It is,” Soobin said easily. “You’re impossible to hate.”
“But you love me,” Beomgyu said, pouting despite himself. “You’re biased.”
Soobin hummed, pretending to consider it. “Then we’ll consult an objective third party.”
“And who would that be?”
Soobin glanced down at their baby. “What do you think Haneul?”
She stared back at both of them, fingers tangled in Beomgyu’s hair, as if she were truly weighing the question.
“She’s even more biased than you,” Beomgyu muttered.
He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Soobin’s neck. The familiar coffee scent of his alpha wrapped around him, steady and safe, layered with the faint sweetness of their baby’s milky scent. He felt himself relaxing, just a little.
I really need to cut my hair, he thought distantly, as Haneul tugged again.
“You’ll do great,” Soobin said softly, one hand settling at the small of Beomgyu’s back like it had done a thousand times before. “They hired you because you’re good at what you do. And if you mess up—” He shrugged gently. “You’ll figure it out. Like you always do.”
Beomgyu pulled back just enough to look at him. “But how can I mess up? you said I was perfect when we started dating.”
“I did.”
“So you lied just to get in my pants?”
Soobin smiled, slow and fond. “If that was my plan, it clearly worked.”
“Gross,” Beomgyu said, smiling.
Soobin’s smile lingered for a second longer, softer now, before it faded into something calmer. He brushed his thumb across Beomgyu’s knuckles, slow and absentminded, like he was memorizing the feeling.
“I’ll pick you up,” Soobin said quietly.
“I know.” Beomgyu swallowed. “Text me when she’s at daycare.”
“I will”.
“And when your mom picks her up”.
Soobin smiled faintly. “We’ve got the group chat. She’ll send pictures. Probably too many.”
That earned a small huff of a laugh from Beomgyu. He exhaled, shoulders dropping just a fraction.
For a moment, they simply stood there, hands still joined, Haneul warm between them, the noise of the city moving around as if it had nothing to do with them at all. Beomgyu realized, distantly, that this was the part he hated most. The pause before separation. The moment where everything was still intact.
Soobin leaned in first, brushing a quick kiss to Beomgyu’s lips, nothing dramatic, just warm and familiar, like muscle memory. Beomgyu kissed him back without hesitation, brief but grounding, his free hand catching lightly at Soobin’s sleeve.
Soobin rested his forehead against Beomgyu’s, just long enough. “I love you.”
“I love you,” Beomgyu replied.
“Noooo.”
Haneul squirmed between them in protest, tiny hands pushing insistently against Soobin’s chest, deeply offended that neither of them was paying attention to her.
Despite everything twisting in his stomach, Beomgyu laughed softly.
“We love you, too, Hani.”
He leaned in and carefully lifted Haneul from the carrier. Her little body fit against his chest with a familiarity so ingrained now that his arms adjusted around her automatically. Warm. Small. Safe.
“I have to work for a little while today, okay?” he murmured, brushing his nose lightly against hers. “You’re going to be good for dad, uhm?”
Haneul stared at him with those wide, dark eyes that looked far too knowing for someone who still thought eating paper was a reasonable life choice.
Then she smiled.
A tiny, gummy thing.
Completely unaware that Beomgyu suddenly felt like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed.
What if she cries when I leave her?
What if she keeps looking for me?
What if she thinks I’m not coming back?
It was ridiculous.
He knew it was ridiculous.
They’d spent weeks preparing for this. Short trips away. Leaving her with Soobin’s mother.
An entire schedule carefully designed to make today easier.
And still—
all he could think was that one year suddenly felt too small.
But he forced himself to hand her back to Soobin. And immediately, Haneul grabbed at the collar of his coat.
He felt like he could cry right now.
“I’ve got her,” Soobin said quietly.
Beomgyu looked up.
Soobin was watching him in that way he always did when he knew exactly what was happening inside Beomgyu’s head before Beomgyu himself had figured it out.
His free hand reached out, squeezing Beomgyu’s fingers once.
“You should go,” Soobin murmured. “You’re going to be late.”
Beomgyu swallowed.
Right.
Work.
First day.
New people.
Haneul.
Daycare.
“Yeah,” he said, though it came out weaker than intended. “Okay.”
He stepped back.
Then another step.
Still facing them.
“Bye-bye, Hani.”
Soobin gently lifted her tiny hand.
“Say bye.”
“Babay,” she chirped happily.
Happy.
Completely happy.
No tears.
No reaching for him again.
No crying.
And somehow—
that felt worse.
Beomgyu stood there for one second too long.
I can still turn around.
I can call and say I’m sick.
I can stay home one more day.
One more day won’t matter.
One more day—
No.
Enough.
They’d prepared for this.
She was safe.
She was fine.
He was the one panicking.
Beomgyu forced himself to turn around before his body could betray him.
He walked faster than necessary toward the building entrance.
He didn’t look back.
Because if he looked back—
he knew he’d want to run straight into Soobin’s arms and ask to take their baby home.
His chest felt painfully tight.
They’d spent weeks teaching Haneul how to be away from him.
Apparently—
nobody had taught him how to do the same.
Beomgyu stopped in front of the glass doors, inhaled sharply once, then stepped inside.
x-o-x
Beomgyu had never worked somewhere like this before.
Somewhere this… corporate.
Like most people who graduated with a degree in screenwriting, he had never imagined ending up here. The plan had always been obvious: write stories, work in television (film if he was lucky enough), eventually make his way into proper writers’ rooms.
And for a while—
he had actually managed it.
Unlike most of his classmates, he’d landed a position at a major broadcasting company right after graduation. It’d felt like proof that everything was moving exactly the way it was supposed to. Just things falling into place.
Then life happened.
Life, Beomgyu had learned, had a habit of rearranging plans without asking permission first.
Which was exactly how he’d ended up here.
Sitting painfully straight in a conference room while someone from Human Resources walked him through what felt like the longest onboarding presentation in human history.
“…and employees are expected to follow all internal confidentiality protocols regarding ongoing product development…”
Beomgyu nodded automatically.
At some point ten minutes ago, he’d stopped understanding actual words.
The woman finally smiled politely before sliding a card toward him.
His employee ID.
White. Minimalistic. Expensive-looking.
Everything in this company looked expensive.
“Your computer and company accounts are already set up,” she explained. “You’ll be working on the nineteenth floor with the Marketing Strategy Department. Your team leader will guide you from there.”
She stood.
“Welcome to Nexa.”
Right.
Nexa.
Even hearing the name directed at him still felt strange.
The elevator ride up somehow made everything worse. The mirrored walls forced him to stare at his own reflection while his brain helpfully repeated:
What the hell am I doing here?
When the doors finally opened, the entire floor looked absurdly polished.
Floor-to-ceiling windows flooded the office with sunlight. Employees moved quickly between glass meeting rooms carrying laptops, tablets, expensive coffees in minimalist cups.
Nobody looked confused.
Nobody looked lost.
Everybody seemed to know exactly where they were going.
“You look like you’re about to throw up.”
Relief immediately washed through him when he heard that voice.
Kang Taehyun stood there, looking annoyingly perfect. Perfectly pressed shirt and his badge hanging from his neck. The kind of person who somehow looked like he belonged in buildings made of glass.
Beomgyu exhaled.
“I think I am going to throw up.”
“Bathroom’s behind you.”
“You’re so supportive.”
Taehyun turned immediately, already walking.
“I referred you personally, so no embarrassing me on your first day.”
Beomgyu hurried after him.
“So tomorrow is okay?”
“I’ll allow it. C’mon I offered to show you around.”
Taehyun’s office tour was ridiculously detailed, maybe too detailed.
Meeting rooms.
Security systems.
Break areas.
Internal communication software.
Listening to Taehyun explain everything, Beomgyu realized something he’d somehow never thought much about.
He’d never actually understood what Taehyun did for work. Which was a little embarrassing given they’d been best friends since university, but even back then they’d existed in completely different worlds.
While Beomgyu had been skipping lectures to work on screenplay drafts and desperately chasing creative opportunities—
Taehyun had been collecting internships and attending networking events.
Nexa had probably always been part of Taehyun’s plan.
But it’d never been part of Beomgyu’s.
“I’ll leave you here.”
They stopped in front of another glass-partitioned office.
“Your team leader will handle the rest.”
Beomgyu blinked.
“That’s it?”
Taehyun stared at him. “…Did you think I’d babysit you all day?”
“Yes.”
“We’re not even on the same team, so that’d be impossible.”
And then, his expression softened.
“Choi Beomgyu, you got hired because you’re good. So, start believing it.”
Simple.
Then he pointed toward the far side of the office.
“My team’s there, I’ll find you so we can have lunch together.”
And just like that—
he walked away.
Beomgyu stood there for a moment.
Right.
Now he was actually alone.
He inhaled once.
Then opened the door.
A man sitting near the far desk immediately stood.
“Ah, you’re here already.”
He stepped closer, offering a polite smile.
“I’m Song Sunwoo. Team leader.”
Beomgyu bowed quickly.
“Choi Beomgyu. I’m the new Brand Content Writer.”
A few awkward introductions followed.
Three people.
Four maybe.
Too many names.
All immediately forgotten.
Sunwoo gestured toward an empty desk near the windows.
“For today, I just want you reviewing previous campaigns so you understand our tone and structure. Everything is already uploaded to your computer.”
Beomgyu nodded.
“Okay.”
Sunwoo placed another document beside the keyboard.
“We’re currently preparing for a new product launch.”
Beomgyu looked down.
“Lifestyle and productivity platform,” Sunwoo explained. “We’re building the narrative strategy around the launch. Messaging, positioning, brand voice, campaign storytelling.”
“I’ll get started.”
The next few hours disappeared faster than expected.
Campaign briefs.
Previous launches.
Brand guidelines.
Consumer engagement reports.
And an alarming amount of corporate vocabulary he had never encountered in his life.
By the time he finally stood to use the bathroom, his shoulders were stiff from hunching over the screen.
Inside the stall, he pulled out his phone.
Three unread messages.
Haneul’s Dad
Dropped Hani at daycare
She didn’t cry lol
I’m offended
She was literally laughing
A small smile pulled at Beomgyu’s mouth before he could stop it.
Of course, Soobin was offended.
He typed quickly.
Me
Sorry, got busy with onboarding stuff
I think she’s in a laughing phase or something
I guess this is better than crying??
Almost immediately—
the typing bubble appeared.
Haneul’s Dad
I expected at least some dramatics ngl
How are you holding up??
Beomgyu stared at the screen for longer than he meant to.
Truthfully?
He didn’t know.
His daughter was somewhere across the city, spending hours away from him for the first time in her entire life.
And somehow—
the world had not ended.
Me
Fine for now
Haneul’s Dad
For now?
Me
You never know haha
I might cry later
Go back to work
You must be busy
Three dots appeared instantly.
Haneul’s Dad
But I miss you
A second later—
Haneul’s Dad
So much
Heat crept faintly into Beomgyu’s face.
Ridiculous.
It’d barely been three hours.
Me
Ugh bye
Haneul’s Dad
But babyyy
Beomgyu stared at the screen for a second, smiling helplessly.
Then locked his phone.
Somehow breathing felt easier. Just a little.
x-o-x
The first thing Beomgyu learned about corporate work—
Nobody actually explained anything as clearly as they pretended to.
For the past hour, he’d been staring at the campaign documents on his screen, trying very hard to look like he understood what all of those words meant.
He did not.
Something about target demographics.
Brand identity.
Emotional engagement.
A lot of words.
Across the room, people moved with a kind of terrifying efficiency.
Nobody talked loudly.
Keyboards clicked.
Glass meeting rooms opened and closed, but this place was absurdly quiet.
Too quiet.
Which was exactly why the two people in front of him stood out so much.
A guy from the far corner had now walked over to the same desk for the fourth time in twenty minutes.
Each time—
He leaned down.
Whispered something.
The woman sitting there would cover her mouth.
Whisper back.
Then he’d casually walk away like absolutely nothing suspicious had happened.
And now—
He was doing it again.
Beomgyu narrowed his eyes. Interesting.
He tried ignoring it.
Lasted maybe ten seconds.
Then, he saw that he wasn’t the only one looking at them. So he leaned slightly toward the desk beside him.
Quietly.
“Are they dating?”
Silence.
The woman beside him slowly turned her head.
She stared at him.
Then whispered—
“You think so too?”
Immediately, something in Beomgyu relaxed.
Ah.
Excellent.
A gossip ally.
He leaned a little closer.
“I noticed like twenty minutes ago.”
“I’ve only been here a week,” she whispered. “And trust me, I’ve been monitoring the situation.”
Beomgyu glanced at her properly now.
He vaguely remembered hearing her introduce herself earlier during team introductions.
Hyerin.
Right.
She lowered her voice even more.
“That’s the sixth time he’s gone to her desk today.”
“Sixth?”
“I’ve been counting.”
Beomgyu looked back toward the pair.
The guy leaned closer again.
Definitely too close.
“Oh, they’re absolutely sleeping together.”
Hyerin slapped one hand over her mouth trying to hide that she was laughing.
“No, listen—” Beomgyu whispered back, suddenly far too invested. “Look at body language.”
“At what exactly?”
“He keeps touching the desk when he talks to her.”
“That means nothing.”
“No, it means intimacy.”
“You cannot know that.”
Suddenly, both of them straightened at the exact same time.
Team leader Sunwoo was walking past their desks toward the meeting room, expression unreadable.
Beomgyu clicked randomly on his screen, pretending to work.
Beside him, Hyerin had somehow already opened three spreadsheets.
Impressive.
Sunwoo disappeared behind the glass door.
Three seconds passed.
Then Hyerin leaned toward him again.
“Okay, your desk theory doesn’t sound that crazy now.”
x-o-x
The cafeteria occupied almost the entire seventeenth floor.
It was absurdly large.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the city, polished marble floors reflected the afternoon sunlight, and the food didn’t look as bad as he thought it would.
Corporate money really was terrifying.
“The food’s actually decent,” Hyerin said beside him as they followed Taehyun through the crowded lunch area, trays balanced carefully in their hands.
Inviting Hyerin had felt natural.
They’d spent the rest of the morning whispering increasingly ridiculous theories about the two suspicious coworkers across the office, and by now Beomgyu had already decided she was excellent.
The more the merrier.
The second all three of them sat down—
A man with bleached blond hair immediately pointed his chopsticks across the table like he’d been waiting.
“Perfect. New people. I need objective opinions.”
Nobody said hello.
Nobody introduced themselves.
Apparently this was happening immediately.
“If my boyfriend is consistently liking photos of people wearing bikinis on Instagram, is that cheating?”
I would’ve killed Soobin.
Across from him, a woman with short hair didn’t even look up from her food.
“Yes.”
“Thank you, Ara.”
Taehyun pointed lazily.
“New people. Beomgyu. Hyerin.”
Everyone waved.
“It’s not cheating.”
“Wrong. It’s emotional terrorism.”
Then the man turned immediately toward them. “You two. What do you think?”
Hyerin tilted her head thoughtfully.
“It depends whose photos.”
The blond man gasped. “A nuanced take.”
Beomgyu stabbed a piece of meat with his chopsticks. “No, absolutely cheating territory.”
The blond man practically slammed his tray.
“That’s what I’ve been saying!”
For the next fifteen minutes, conversation jumped wildly between workplace gossip and increasingly horrific dating stories.
Apparently almost all of Taehyun’s friends had a shitty love life,
Jiwon, the one with bleach hair, was in a situationship with a finance guy from the tenth floor.
Minseok, quiet-looking but apparently carrying deep emotional damage, had discovered his ex had been dating someone else. Simultaneously. For four months.
Only Ara, who seemed happily married, and Hyerin looked...fine.
“Oh, we’ve been dating since college,” Hyerin said simply, “so like 7 years together”.
The entire table immediately turned toward her.
“That’s like a lifetime,” Jiwon said.
“What would you know about lifetimes?”, Minseok teased him.
Then Ara’s eyes shifted toward Beomgyu.
Specifically—
Toward the wedding ring on his hand.
“And what about you?”
Beomgyu looked up.
“Oh. I’m married too.”
“What?!”
Ara nearly dropped her chopsticks.
“Finally,” she said. “I’m not the only married person here.”
She squinted at him.
“You look really young, though.”
Taehyun smirked immediately.
“This is the friend I told you about.”
Beomgyu narrowed his eyes.
“What have you been saying about me?”
Taehyun ignored him.
“The one who married the loser who kept following him around like a puppy.”
“Hey,” Beomgyu protested immediately. “Soobin wasn’t that much of a loser, okay?”
“Oh my god,” Jiwon muttered. “Maybe I should text back that nerd from high school who keeps liking my stories.”
“Absolutely not,” Minseok said flatly.
Ara suddenly perked up. “Oh, we should do a double date.”
Everyone stared at her.
“What? My husband needs friends”, she added.
“Oh, yeah, sure,” Beomgyu said easily. “Just give me a heads-up so we can figure out babysitting.”
Silence.
Then—
Hyerin nearly choked.
“You have a what?”
Beomgyu blinked.
“A baby?”
“No way,” Jiwon said immediately. “You literally look like a baby.”
Taehyun grinned.
“Their daughter is insanely cute.”
“Show us pictures.”
“Right now.”
“We demand proof.”
Laughing, Beomgyu pulled out his phone. The lockscreen immediately lit up.
Haneul, sitting on Soobin’s shoulders in the park last month, her tiny hands covering Soobin’s eyes.
“Oh my god.”
“She’s adorable.”
“Look at those cheeks.”
“I’m stealing her.”
Then—
His phone buzzed.
Beomgyu quickly turned his phone to himself and read the text.
Haneul’s Dad
Miss you so much baby
“Wait, he calls you BABY?”
“That’s disgusting…I want that.”
“Me too”
And despite feeling a little embarrassed, Beomgyu laughed hard enough that his stomach hurt.
Maybe—
Just maybe—
This job wouldn’t be so bad.
Haneul’s Dad
why are you ignoring meee?
do you already have a work husband?
x-o-x
Beomgyu was fairly certain he could fall asleep standing up.
At this point, the only thing keeping him conscious was the cold metal wall of the elevator pressed against his shoulder and the increasingly desperate mental calculations he was making about how to get home without walking a single step.
Beside him, Hyerin pulled a small compact mirror out of her bag.
“Okay, be honest,” she said, tilting her chin up as she carefully applied a fresh coat of lipstick. Bright red this time, replacing the soft pink she’d been wearing all day. “Do I look good?”
Beomgyu turned his head slightly.
“Yeah,” he said. “That color looks great on you.”
She smiled, pleased.
“You going somewhere after this?” he asked.
“Yeah, my boyfriend’s picking me up.” She pressed her lips together, checking the lipstick. “Date night.”
Ah, when was the last time Soobin and me had a real date?
“I haven’t seen him all week, so I’ve been looking forward to it all day.”
“You guys don’t live together?”
“Not yet.” She adjusted the corner of her eyeshadow with one finger. “Probably after we get married.”
Right.
That made sense.
He and Hyerin were both twenty-seven. And somehow, despite the fact that they’d both been in relationships for nearly the same amount of time, their lives looked completely different.
Hyerin was doing everything in the order people were supposed to.
Dating for years.
Building her career.
Marriage somewhere in the near future.
Moving in together after that.
Slow.
Steady.
Predictable.
Normal.
Meanwhile, by twenty-three, Beomgyu had already been living with Soobin in a tiny apartment with peeling wallpaper and exactly one pan between them.
By twenty-five, he’d been pregnant.
By twenty-six, he’d spent an entire year learning how to function on three hours of sleep while keeping a tiny human alive.
Sometimes it felt like he and Soobin had skipped half the steps everyone else seemed to follow so naturally.
They had jumped headfirst into adulthood before either of them had really known what they were doing.
And somehow, they survived. But sometimes Beomgyu wondered what life would have looked like if they’d slowed down.
If they’d waited longer.
If they’d built stable careers first.
If Haneul had come later.
Would things feel easier now?
Would Soobin seem less tired lately?
Maybe.
Or maybe—
The elevator doors slid open.
And the second Beomgyu stepped outside the building, he saw Soobin standing right in front of the entrance.
Waiting.
One hand tucked into the pocket of his slacks, tie loosened from work, hair slightly messy in the way it always got by the end of the day. He looked tired too, the moment he saw him, his entire face lit up.
And suddenly Beomgyu couldn’t remember why he’d been overthinking anything at all.
Soobin immediately started walking toward them, smiling in that quiet way he only seemed to smile around him.
Before Beomgyu could even say anything, Soobin reached him and instinctively pulled him against his chest with one arm around his waist, leaning down to press a kiss against his cheek.
“Hi.”
God.
Beomgyu already felt ten times better.
“Hi,” he answered.
Then immediately remembered—
Oh.
Right.
Other people.
He cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Uh… this is my husband, Soobin.” He gestured toward Hyerin. “And this is Hyerin. She’s on my team.”
Soobin visibly brightened, like a child being told exciting news.
“Oh, that’s cool.” His hand stayed comfortably on Beomgyu’s waist as he gave Hyerin a polite bow. “Nice to meet you.”
Hyerin smiled, bowing too. “Nice to meet you too, I—”
A sharp honk interrupted her.
A second later, her phone buzzed.
She glanced at the screen and smiled immediately.
“Oh, that’s him.”
Beomgyu followed her gaze toward the black car parked a few meters away.
The windows were tinted dark enough that he couldn’t see the driver.
The engine was still running.
“See you tomorrow,” she said quickly, already turning away.
“See you.”
“Bye.”
They watched her jog toward the car before climbing into the passenger seat.
Then Soobin tilted his head slightly.
“…That was weird.”
Beomgyu didn’t answer.
Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped both arms around Soobin properly this time, burying his face against his neck and letting nearly all his weight fall onto him.
Immediately, Soobin adjusted without hesitation, arms circling him tighter, holding him steady like he’d expected this.
The exhaustion was still there.
His feet still hurt.
His head still felt heavy.
But somehow—
Everything felt easier now.
He heard Soobin laugh softly above him.
“Oh,” he murmured, one hand sliding slowly up and down Beomgyu’s back. “You missed me, huh?”
There was entirely too much amusement in his voice.
Beomgyu lifted his head just enough to glare at him.
Then, grabbing the lapels of Soobin’s suit jacket, he pulled him down and kissed him.
Probably longer than was socially acceptable in the middle of a crowded sidewalk.
He didn’t particularly care.
Soobin kissed him back instantly, one hand moving to the back of his neck, looking entirely too pleased with himself.
When they finally pulled apart, Beomgyu stayed close enough that their noses were still brushing.
“Yeah,” he admitted quietly.
Then softer—
“I missed you. A lot.”
Soobin smiled in that unbearably fond way that still made Beomgyu feel nineteen sometimes.
Beomgyu immediately buried his face against his neck again.
Warm.
Safe.
Home.
He felt Soobin laugh softly against his hair.
“Come on, baby.”
One hand rubbed circles into the small of his back.
“Let’s go home.”
A pause.
Then—
“Haneul apparently tried to bite my mom.”
Beomgyu lifted his head immediately. “What?”
“I think she gets it from you.”
“Shut up.”
“You literally bit me once.”
“That was because you were being stupid.”
“Still counts.”
Beomgyu smacked his chest. Soobin laughed, catching his hand before intertwining their fingers.
Then gently tugged him forward.
“Let’s buy ice cream on the way.”
And for the first time all day—
Beomgyu felt like he could breathe again.
Haneul was waiting.