𝐓𝐑𝐔𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐌, Seoul, SK
Late July, 2023
w. 𝐘𝐎𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐇
The early hours of the morning are the most comforting to Mireu. When the streets outside hold a delicate kind of quietness that seems so easily broken, the grass is still covered in dewdrops, and there’s a slight chill still clinging onto the air. Oftentimes he’ll wake up before he needs to be awake, and there’s no hope for him to fall back asleep, so he takes himself on a short walk. This morning, however, he’d awoken after some of the members had left for individual schedules, and he’d taken the chance to take a long shower, letting the heat soak into his muscles that ache from a late gym session the night before. He goes about his usual morning routine of brewing some coffee, and since he knows it’s just him and Rioh left behind, he makes Rioh a mug too, taking the time to prepare it just the way he likes, as he always does. He cooks them both galbitang and rice, then plates up a few side dishes he’d made large batches of recently. His mother had recently sent him some of her homemade kimchi, so he sets out some of that, along with his own sukjunamul and yeongeun jorim. Breakfast is something Mireu had taken on as his regular job, since he was usually up first and enjoyed cooking. It’s how he shows he cares about his members, and though he doesn’t like to admit it to himself, it’s even more special to him when he does it for just him and Rioh.
Once the food is cooked and laid out, he quietly slips into Rioh’s room. He looks so peaceful, hair splayed out over the pillow and lips parted slightly. For a moment, he takes in the view, trying not to notice the way his heart hammers in his chest, a swelling sensation filling him with desires he pushes into the darkest corners of his mind. As he had done so many times before, he steps up beside his bed and leans down, letting his fingers gently card through the younger man’s hair. “Rioh.” He says softly, sweeping his hair back off his forehead and shifting so he can sit down on the edge of the bed, knowing it might take a while to rouse him. It’s times like these, when they’re alone, that Mireu struggles with certain feelings. He’s not entirely sure when they arose, but somewhere in the time since Rioh had moved into the dorm, and now, Mireu had, for lack of better words, fallen for him. Fallen seems too rough a verb to Mireu, though. The way he’d descended into these overwhelming feelings had occurred as more of a gentle slide. It had been so gradual, so simple and gentle, that he’d not noticed it was happening until one day he looked at Rioh and realised he could imagine their entire future together—married with kids, living in a four bedroom, three and half bath house with a white picket fence, and to top it off, a family dog.
“Rioh, I’ve made breakfast.” His voice is a little louder now, and his fingers gently glide down the side of his face. He feels guilty for drinking in the sight of Rioh like this, when he isn’t conscious to turn away or protest. It feels like he’s taking advantage of him, and yet he knows that’s ridiculous. He’s simply looking at his face—something he does every single day with no protest. “Your coffee’s gonna get cold~" He sing-songs, burying his fingers in his hair once more and letting the pads of his fingers press into his scalp, pushing down over his crown towards the back of his neck in a gentle massage. He repeats his movement over and over, watching with a fond smile as Rioh gradually awakens. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to kiss him. He leans down over him, his nightshirt, only half buttoned, hanging open a little as he does so. “If you don’t get up I’ll just have to eat all that galbitang and my mom’s kimchi all by myself.”
