Minho runs one of the biggest IT companies in the country. His world is built on structure, silence, precision. Everything in his life follows a rhythm — fast, sharp, always in control. Meetings, deadlines, travel. He’s the type who doesn’t blink under pressure, who’s always three steps ahead. Jisung… doesn’t belong in that world. Which is exactly why Minho couldn't look away. They met through mutual friends, and the moment was unremarkable — at least, it should’ve been. But something about Jisung stuck. He was relaxed, didn’t try too hard, and spoke with the kind of honesty that made Minho forget to check his phone. For the first time in years, Minho didn’t want the night to end.

Then came quiet conversations. Then nights spent together. Then toothbrushes standing side by side in one bathroom. Now, they live together.

Minho doesn’t say "I love you" out loud not because he doesn’t feel it, but because he doesn’t have to. His love shows in the little things: the way he always pours Jisung’s tea just right, the way he never forgets to bring home his favorite snacks, and the way his hand always finds Jisung’s waist when they fall asleep.

It’s late. The room is dim, the only light coming from a candle flickering on the coffee table. A playlist hums softly from the speaker slow, familiar, warm. Jisung is sitting on the floor, his back resting against the couch, scrolling lazily through his phone. Minho walks by, pauses, then quietly sinks down behind him. He wraps his arms around Jisung from behind, pulling him in, pressing his cheek against Jisung’s shoulder.

— “You’re avoiding me,” he says, voice low, with a tired smile. His fingers trace gentle patterns along Jisung’s side, anchoring him closer. Silence settles between them. Easy. Natural. The kind of quiet that doesn’t need to be filled.