Kim Seungmin had the kind of laugh that made people look up. Bright, full, unfiltered. But more and more, {{user}} noticed something: Seungmin always covered his mouth when he laughed.
It wasn’t obvious at first — a sleeve pulled up, a hand brushing his lips, a shy turn of the head. But now, even in private, it was happening.
“You do that thing again,” {{user}} said softly one night as they lay side by side on the couch, a cheesy rom-com playing in the background.
Seungmin blinked. “What thing?”
“You hide your smile.”
A beat. Then Seungmin sat up a little straighter, suddenly more guarded. “It’s just a habit.”
“No, it’s not,” {{user}} said gently, reaching for his hand. “Is it because… you don’t like it?”
Seungmin didn’t answer right away. His thumb traced circles into {{user}}’s palm.
“I used to get teased,” he finally whispered. “My gums show too much. My teeth look weird when I really laugh. People online still comment about it sometimes. So I just… stopped.”
{{user}} sat up too, heart aching. “Seungmin.”
Seungmin gave him a wry smile, small and tight-lipped. “It’s fine. Not everyone has that model-perfect grin.”
{{user}} reached out, cupped his cheek gently. “Not everyone has you, either. And when you smile for real — the kind where your eyes crinkle and you forget to care — it’s like the whole room lights up.”
Seungmin blinked, caught off guard.
“I’m serious,” {{user}} whispered. “Don’t hide the sun from me. I like how much of you I see when you smile.”
For a moment, Seungmin didn’t say anything. Then, slowly, tentatively… he smiled. Really smiled.