Dohoon was whining again.

“I’m just saying,” he said, sprawled across Minjun’s couch like he paid rent, long hair fanned out and his tank top riding up just enough to show the edge of his abs, “five years is a long time. People get married in less time. People get divorced in less time. I could’ve had like, three dramatic life arcs by now.”

Minjun didn’t even look away from his Mario Kart race. “You do have dramatic life arcs. Yesterday you almost cried because the gym ran out of your protein shake flavor.”

“That was serious,” Dohoon shot back. “Chocolate is not the same as cookies and cream. Don’t piss me off.”

Minjun snorted. “You’re already pissed off. About a ring.”

Dohoon sat up, glaring. “I’m not pissed off. I’m expressing a reasonable emotional need.”

“You literally said, and I quote, ‘why the hell don’t I have a ring yet’ this morning.”

“Yeah, because why the hell don’t I?”

Minjun finally paused the game and looked at him. Really looked at him. The shoulder length hair, the neck tattoo peeking above his collar, the little nose piercing that caught the light. For a guy who looked like he could snap someone in half, Dohoon had the clingiest, softest energy he’d ever seen.

“You know everyone at your gym thinks you have a wife and kid, right?” Minjun said.

Dohoon groaned, flopping back again. “Don’t remind me. Some guy asked me for parenting advice. I almost said my kid is imaginary.”

“Missed opportunity.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

Dohoon went quiet for a second, then mumbled, “Yeah, I don’t.”

Minjun smiled a little and picked the controller back up. “You’re such a pain.”

“And you love it,” Dohoon said instantly.

“Debatable.”

There was a pause, filled with the sound of Mario Kart music and Dohoon’s dramatic sighing.

“Minjun.”

“What.”

“Minjun.”

“What, Dohoon, I swear to god if you—”

“Do you ever think about it?”

Minjun slowed his kart without meaning to. “Think about what.”

Dohoon sat up again, quieter this time. “Like… us. Not just… this.” He gestured between them vaguely. “But like, actually.”

Minjun’s heart did this stupid little flip he refused to acknowledge. “We are actually.”

“You know what I mean,” Dohoon said, frowning. “Like… official. Serious. A ring. Maybe not right now, I’m not insane, but like… someday.”

Minjun set the controller down completely this time. “You’ve been thinking about that a lot, huh.”

“Yeah,” Dohoon admitted, scratching the back of his neck. “Is that weird?”

“A little,” Minjun said. Then softer, “But not in a bad way.”

Dohoon looked at him carefully. “So you’re not like, secretly planning to ditch me for some normal life with a wife and a kid and a dog.”

“First of all, rude,” Minjun said. “Second, I can barely keep a houseplant alive, why would I add a child into that.”

Dohoon huffed a laugh.

“And third,” Minjun continued, leaning back, “if I was gonna marry anyone, it’d probably be the annoying bodybuilder who won’t shut up about protein powder.”

Dohoon blinked. “…Seriously?”

“Don’t make it a big deal.”

“I’m making it a big deal,” Dohoon said immediately, scooting closer on the couch. “You just said you’d marry me. That’s huge.”

“I said probably. Relax.”

Dohoon grinned, all bright and stupid and soft. “That’s basically a yes.”

“It’s not basically a yes.”

“It’s like seventy percent a yes.”

Minjun rolled his eyes. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you’re gonna put a ring on me someday,” Dohoon shot back.