When the group reached the restaurant, both Ben and Sean looked surprised. Kai and Terrence have pulled them up to a high-end restaurant with velvet menus and soft lighting. Ben's soul briefly left his body at the price tags.
"Why didn't you include me in the plan?" he whispered to Terrence.
"You already celebrated with him alone!" Terrence replied in a dry tone.
Ben had nothing to say, so he just grumbled into his soup.
The dinner turned out to be surprisingly wholesome. Kai pestered Sean with a barrage of questions like a caffeinated journalist.
"World History Honors? That's hardcore. Are you into wars? Old maps? Mummies?"
Sean nodded. "A bit of everything, but I focus on empire formations and cultural shifts."
Kai whistled. "Fancy. Anyway, what style did you train in?"
At that, Sean replied quietly, "Four years of contemporary, after that, I kind of fell in love with Idol choreography and started mixing both."
That shut the table up for a full second.
"So you did train professionally?" Terrence asked.
Sean only gave a small shrug, gaze dropping to his cup. He did not continue, and no one pushed.
Daniel grinned. "I knew it. No one's that precise without training."
Ben watched it all unfold like a sitcom montage. Once Daniel was done pestering Sean and arguing with Terrence about alcohol, he flopped dramatically onto Ben's shoulder, "Bennie, tell them I deserve soju."
Ben, choking on his rice, muttered, "Hyung, you turn into chaos when you're drunk."
Kai and Terrence nodded enthusiastically. Daniel whimpered like a kicked puppy.
***
Later, as expected, Terrence, Kai, and Sean peeled off in the same direction, leaving Ben, once again, walking Daniel home.
Ben was full and hoped to quietly return to the dorm and complete his project. However, when they reached Daniel's apartment, Daniel clung to him like a koala, "Come on, stay. It's my birthday."
Ben said with a raised brow, "Your birthday was last week!!"
Daniel looked at him with those big, puppy-like eyes. "Still counts."
Ben groaned, already losing the battle. He was still a mess inside, confused, and reeling from all the emotions Daniel constantly stirred in him. But he still followed Daniel inside, against his better judgment.
Daniel, oblivious to Ben's inner storm, trusted him with pure, unshakable ease. And somehow, that only made Ben feel worse. He stared at the floor, sulking. He was about to grumble about his inability to say 'no' when Daniel got up, rolling his shoulders with a light stretch, as though a silent decision had clicked into place inside him.
Out of nowhere, he said, "Wanna see my first-ever stage dance?"
Ben blinked. "What, right now?"
Daniel grinned. "Yep. It was a modern dance piece, my mum taught me."
Before Ben could protest, Daniel started moving.
It wasn't his usual style: the sharp, commanding presence that could own a stage with a single glance. It was graceful, fluid, and weightless like a dream.
The moonlight from the window spilled across the room, catching on the arcs of his arms, the twist of his waist, the dip of his spine. Shadows danced across his skin like soft brushstrokes. Ben had seen Daniel dance a thousand times before. He had admired his skill, envied his confidence.
But this… was magic.
After what felt like an eternity, Daniel stopped, exhaling softly. He flopped onto the couch, limbs sprawled carelessly. "Stupidly sentimental tonight," he murmured, eyes fluttering shut.
Within seconds, he was asleep.
***
Ben sat still for a long moment before looking at the couch, which was his sleeping spot tonight, and Daniel had stolen it. With a sigh, Ben hooked an arm under him and lifted Daniel into his arms. It was harder than he expected. Daniel was taller and heavier, but Ben held on. His heart pounded against his ribs as he carried him to his room, carefully laying him on the bed.
For a moment, he just stared.
Daniel looked peaceful, so completely unguarded. The usual mischievous glint in his eyes was gone, his lips slightly parted, his breath slow and steady. He looked vulnerable.
Slowly, as if drawn by an unseen force, Ben's fingers brushed over Daniel's hand, tracing the faint line of his wrist, and lingered too long, feeling his pulse. His skin was warm beneath his touch. His hand slid up Daniel's arm, hovering at his jaw, his thumb ghosted over Daniel's cheekbone.
His fingers drifted toward the corner of Daniel's mouth, and his breath faltered at the soft curve of it.
He wondered how Daniel's skin would feel against his.
Ben's fingertips brushed Daniel's lips, tracing them. He swallowed hard.
He wondered how those lips would feel if he kissed them.
Suddenly, his body tensed, his eyes widened, and his fingers snapped back as if burned.
What was he thinking just now?
What was he even doing?
Panic surged through his veins. The realization slammed into him like a punch to the chest, stealing the air from his lungs.
He forced himself to step away, gripping the doorframe so tightly his knuckles turned white. His breath was uneven, his thoughts spiraling.
Just before he stepped out, he whispered, so quietly, it barely counted as words:
"You're far too trusting, hyung."
And he fled.
Because now, he knew.
The confusion finally broke, leaving only the truth. It was no longer friendship or respect.
He wanted this.
He wanted more than just a touch. More than just Daniel's warmth beneath his fingertips.
He wanted Daniel.
And that realization sent a sharp, suffocating fear down his spine.
And for the first time, he was afraid of what he was feeling.