Fred and Christian were both international boyfriends in their twenties. Fred was a Korean guy with soft, slightly tousled dark hair that caught the sunlight in warm shades of brown. His calm eyes always seemed to hold a quiet curiosity, and his relaxed posture gave off an effortless charm. Christian, on the other hand, was Filipino, with longer, wavy black hair that brushed his shoulders and a quiet intensity in his expression. He had a thoughtful, almost artistic aura about him, the kind of person who could make a simple moment feel meaningful. They both loved being independent, but even more, they loved spending time together and exploring new things side by side.

That evening, they were out on a double date with another couple at a cozy Chinese buffet, something new they’d all decided to try together. The warm lights and chatter of the restaurant mixed with the scent of freshly cooked dishes, wrapping the place in a comfortable hum of life.

Fred wasn’t feeling his best. A dull stomach ache had followed him since earlier in the day, so instead of diving right into the meal, he leaned gently against Christian’s shoulder. Christian looked down at him, the soft glow of the restaurant lights reflecting off his dark hair. A small smile tugged at his lips as he reached up and ruffled Fred’s hair.

“I’ll go get our food,” Christian said softly, his voice full of quiet care. “Write it down on the paper.”