Dating Yang Jeongin felt different from what you expected relationships to feel like.

You’d been together for two months now—long enough for good-morning texts, inside jokes, and his shy little compliments that always came out braver over text than in person. He flirted when his thumbs did the talking. In real life, he stuck to hugs, holding your sleeve, brushing shoulders when he walked past you. Sweet. Careful. Like he was afraid of doing something wrong.

Jeongin had never had his first kiss. And because of that, everything between you stayed soft and slow.

Right now, you were sprawled across his bed, scrolling on your phone while he sat at his desk, headset on, focused on the game glowing across his monitor. His room smelled faintly like laundry detergent and snacks. Comfortable. Lived-in.

“Wait—no, that’s not fair,” he muttered, fingers flying over the keyboard. “How did he even—” His brows were furrowed in concentration, lips slightly parted, glasses slipping just a bit down his nose.