Archive of Our Own

Yeonjun pushes his sunglasses up onto his head as he steps into the cafe. He only has to look around for a second before he spots Soobin. The man is nothing short of gigantic, so it’s hard to miss him in any room. Yeonjun prances over, pulls out the chair across from him, and sits.

“Yo,” Soobin says around a mouthful of pastry. Yeonjun grimaces. “You’re finally here.”

“Can you be civilised?” Yeonjun says. “Chew with your mouth shut.”

Soobin smiles sheepishly as finishes his bite of pan au chocolat. He makes a great show of swallowing to appease Yeonjun before he speaks again. “Sorry, hyung.” He pushes one of the cups on the table across to him. “I got you a coffee.”

He looks down at the cup. There’s a heart traced into the milk foam. He rubs a hand across his face, exasperated. “This is a latte, Soobin,” he states. 

Soobin stares back at him dumbly and Yeonjun gives up almost immediately. He utters something about dongsaeng’s these days as he gingerly lifts the cup and takes a sip. He tries not to pull a face. 

“So,” Soobin says. “You excited to turn twenty five?”

Yeonjun only barely manages to stop himself from spitting out a mouthful of milk and espresso all over Soobin and his ugly jean jacket. He rubs a hand over his mouth as he swallows, eyebrows knitting together.

“First of all,” he says slowly. “My birthday is in a month. And I’m turning twenty three, Soobin. Twenty three.”

Soobin shrugs, unphased. “Same thing. Do you have any plans?”

Yeonjun’s expression doesn’t let up. It definitely isn’t the same thing , but arguing with Soobin sometimes is like trying to fist fight a brick wall. Pointless. “No, not really. Yunjin said she might treat me to dinner, so there’s that.”

Soobin hums, slowly nodding his head. Then, without saying a word, he leans over sideways and reaches for his bag. Yeonjun watches on curiously over the top of the table as he digs around in it haphazardly before he’s popping back up with something clutched in his hand.

He sets it down on the table in front of him, and Yeonjun leans forward to inspect it. It’s an oddly shaped red glass bottle. The bottom of it is blown out and thick, leading up to an uncapped tapered top. It looks to Yeonjun like a really fancy candle holder, or a cup for a weird tea party. 

He looks back up at Soobin.

“What’s this?”

Soobin grins at him like he’s hiding a secret. “Your birthday present.”

“My birthday present,” Yeonjun repeats back to him slowly, “is… what, exactly? A fancy glass bottle?”

Soobin doesn’t flinch at the judgement in Yeonjun’s voice. He places both of his hands on the table to brace himself, and then leans in to whisper. “It’s not a fancy glass bottle, hyung. It’s a magic glass bottle.”

Yeonjun’s hand twitches with the unmistakable urge to reach across the table and smack Soobin. He diverts all of the violent energy into pinching the bridge of his own nose instead. He can feel a headache coming on, the type that is exclusively caused by Choi Soobin.

“Right. Okay. A magic bottle for my birthday.”

“I’m serious,” Soobin says, pushing the bottle even further across the table towards him. “Listen, hyung. It’s real magic.”

“Is this supposed to be some kind of tool for drugs?” Yeonjun says suddenly. He snatches the bottle off the table to scrutinise it carefully, turning it around in his hands. For a second, it almost feels like it’s radiating with something against the pads of his fingers, but he’s quick to tamper down that thought. 

“Do you really think I’d do drugs, hyung?”

Yeonjun looks from Soobin to the bottle and says nothing. Underneath the table, Soobin kicks his shin. He drops the bottle with a hiss, pushing his chair out. 

“Okay,” Yeonjun exclaims, sighing. “Okay. Thank you for the magic bottle. I’ll make sure to do a shot out of it at midnight. Goodbye, Soobin.”

He stands up and grabs for the bottle again. Soobin stands up with him, chair squeaking. He reaches out to grab Yeonjun’s wrist to stop him from turning to leave right away. The smile has faded off his expression. For once he looks serious, and it stuns Yeonjun into his spot.

“I wasn’t joking about this,” Soobin says. “If you don’t believe me, fine. You’re the only one who’s going to be missing out.”

He drops Yeonjun’s wrist and stands up straight. He plants his hands on his hips and gives Yeonjun a stern look that reminds him with trepidation of his mother whenever he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have been.

Yeonjun scratches the back of his head a few times. It’s not that he’s gullible. As much as he loves and adores his friends, they’re all some of the worst people on Earth. They haven’t given him a break for a day in his life, and pranking him with a birthday present isn’t something he’d put past any of them— especially not Soobin, who’s his real arch nemesis.

But his expression is scarily convincing. 

“Okay,” he says again, lips pursed. “Okay. So let’s say I want to test out this magic. How do I even go about it? And what kind of magic is it?”

Soobin’s dimples reappear. His smile is smug and arrogant, and whatever pinch of respect and trust Yeonjun still had for him is obliterated. 

“You rub it,” Soobin says, making an incredibly phallic and inappropriate gesture with his hands.

This time, Yeonjun lets himself choose violence. He reaches across the table, smacks Soobin across the shoulder (hard), and walks away with the useless bottle tucked under his arm and a splitting migraine.  

♡

Yeonjun returns to his apartment with three more grey hairs than he’d had when he left. He sets the red bottle down on his coffee table once he gets home. As irritating and nightmare-inducing as Soobin and his stupid present could be, he’d feel guilty about throwing it away (even if it was deserved). 

So he settles for a spot off centre, amongst a small amount of clutter. Maybe it’ll motivate him to liven up his apartment with some flowers every now and again, because it would certainly make a good vase.

He looks at it one last time with mild distaste. With a shake of his head, he walks out of his living room to continue on with his day.

(What he doesn’t notice as he turns to leave is the way the bottle lights up momentarily in a wonderful shade of gold. It flashes, blinking, before the light fizzles out. Strange .)

♡

For the last time that day, Yeonjun steps back into his apartment. It’s almost pitch-black as the door swings shut behind him, and he reaches out blindly to flick on a light switch. He toes off his converse and leaves them in a messy heap at the door. 

He walks through his short entranceway into his living room and as clumsily as he’d left his shoes at the door, he collapses onto the couch. His eyes fall shut and he sighs out in a mix of relief and despair as he stretches out like a cat. 

It had been a long day, starting with meeting Soobin in the morning. Yeonjun isn’t sure if it’s fortunate or unfortunate that that wasn’t even the worst part of his day. But he’d missed both his trains earlier, his card had frozen when he was trying to buy dinner, and he’d lost one of his new earrings. 

Suffice to say, Yeonjun was ready for the day to be over. Sometimes he wished that he had better luck. It always seemed like everyone around him was blessed. When it came to embarrassing, inconveniencing, and even potentially dangerous random events, Yeonjun personally felt he was more often than not the sad victim. 

If he could wish for anything in the world (other than better friends), Yeonjun would probably wish for good luck in a heartbeat. Things just weren’t fair how they were; if there was magic in the world, then he’d like to think that he was more than entitled to his fair share of compensation. If only. 

With a rush of blood to his head and a great idea, Yeonjun sits up on the sofa. His eyes have gone wide. Slowly, he turns to look at his coffee table. The red bottle Soobin had gifted (loosely defined) him earlier was starting to seem less and less inconspicuous the more that he thought about it.

Yeonjun really, really didn’t want to fall prey to one of Soobin’s pranks. Even if nobody was here to witness what he was about to do, his pride would know, and that was more than enough for him. But… something about it seemed so tempting. 

Besides— Soobin wasn’t really the type for pranks. When he wanted to be a dick, he was indiscreet about it. He was a dick to Yeonjun’s face , not behind his back.

He looks around his living room like someone is watching him. Then, in a mad scramble like he’s afraid he’ll psyche himself out, he reaches for the bottle on his coffee table.

Yeonjun purses his lips as he sits it down in his lap. His hand is almost shaking as he sets it on the side of the bottle and, much like Soobin had so generously demonstrated, strokes it.

He waits with bated breath for one second, and then another, and then another. But nothing happens. He drops his hand off the bottle, feeling completely defeated and only mildly foolish, and sighs. Some things were just too good to be true. 

Or maybe not. 

Against his thigh, the bottom of the bottle starts to grow hot like coals. He flinches, but before he can move it away, he’s being blinded by a great burst of light. He closes his eyes and almost chokes on his own voice as he exclaims in shock. There’s ruffling, maybe a little dust, and somewhere in the chaos Yeonjun feels what must be an elbow jabbing him in the nose.

He reaches up to clutch his face blindly. He feels something hot and wet trickling between his fingers, so he knows he’s definitely been hit by something. His eyes burn with tears as he tries to blink them open. His head aches from the light, and stars dance across his vision for a moment before they manage to adjust.

He looks right in front of him. Staring back at him in an unexplainable and compromising position on his lap is a boy. His eyes are wide and doe-like. He has a pretty nice, round lips, and bright red hair that looks mysteriously like the bottle Soobin had given him.

When their eyes lock, he blooms into a brilliant smile.

“Hello,” the boy says casually, round eyes staring down Yeonjun’s soul. “Thank you for waking me up. I’m happy that Soobin kept his promise.”

Yeonjun’s mouth falls open. He doesn’t know what to say, racking his brain for some kind of reasonable response or explanation, but he comes up with nothing. He continues to stare as blood dribbles between his fingers and down his chin. Vaguely, he feels like he’s about to throw up.

“You look surprised,” the boy says, beginning to frown. “I suppose he didn’t explain. I’m a genie. Since you were the one to wake me up, I’m going to grant you three wishes.”

Yeonjun’s head throbs. He must be hallucinating. With his unbloodied left hand he digs his fingers into his own thigh as hard as he can and closes his eyes.

When he opens them, there’s still weight and warmth on his lap. The boy watches him expectantly.

Yeonjun’s eyes finally glance downwards. The naked flesh that stares right back at him is the straw that breaks the camel's back. His vision goes spotty. He feels awfully like his head is about to split down the middle.

“Oh my god,” he manages to get out, right before everything fades away.

♡

When Yeonjun wakes up, his memory comes back to him in bits and pieces. First, he remembers getting home that evening after missing his train. Then, he remembers sitting down on his sofa and reaching for Soobin’s present. 

He frowns as he blinks unconsciousness out of his eyes. Things get a little muddled after that, but he supposes it’s just his dreams intersecting with reality. He thinks he remembers a boy with bright red hair and lovely eyes appearing from the depths of the bottle.

Yeonjun, his mind still only half-present, laughs as he pushes himself to sit up. His vision spins and he steadies himself on the armrest of his couch. The blanket over him falls off his shoulders and pools in his lap.

That’s strange, he thinks. He doesn’t remember getting out one of his spare blankets. His head won’t stop aching, and he reaches up to cradle his own forehead. 

The hand that passes by his face is caked in dried blood and he nearly screams. 

On unsteady feet he clambers up off the couch. Before he can take a step in any direction, a hand reaches out to grab him by the shoulder, and he screams again.

“Hey!” a pleasant voice calls. Yeonjun spins around wildly, almost tripping over his own feet, and faces a boy who is not quite a stranger. His face pales. It hadn’t been a dream after all. “You need to sit down. I can’t believe you passed out. ”

Wordlessly, Yeonjun allows himself to be guided back down onto the sofa. He dares to sneak a glance at the boy again before slapping his hand over his eyes.

“Oh my god,” he says for the second time, voice travelling up an octave. “You— you. Stop. Why are you not wearing clothes? You need to go put your clothes on. Don’t come any closer.”

“Because I don’t have any?” the genie (the genie ) argues back. 

“Down that hallway,” Yeonjun says, blindly pointing in the general direction towards his bedroom. “Go. My room. Find some, now.”

He hears an annoyed sigh and then soft feet padding away. He doesn’t unveil his eyes until he’s counted to twenty in his head, afraid of what he might see if he looks too soon.

When he does open them, he heaves out a sigh of relief. He’s alone. Slowly, he lets himself gather his thoughts.

This could all still be a hallucination, or a very elaborate dream. Maybe Yeonjun is one head knock too far into a life of brain damage, or maybe Soobin spiked his coffee this morning. He wouldn’t put it past him; Soobin has objectively done worse, like the time he embarrassed Yeonjun in front of his crush. And the time he did it again.

But everything seems so real. His apartment, his teeth-grinding headache, the pain of his swollen nose. He wriggles his feet on his hardwood floor and pinches himself for a second time for good measure. Unfortunately for him, he doesn’t wake up out of some drug-induced slumber. He’s very much still here, and he can very much still hear the sounds of rustling in the room over.

He doesn’t even want to know what the Thing is doing to his Prada shirts. Yeonjun shivers. He feels his phone buzz in the pocket of his slacks, and he digs it out mutely.

It’s an Instagram notification from Yunjin. He sighs and closes his eyes again. Only then does his brain supply him with a good idea.

Yeonjun’s eyes pop back open as he unlocks his phone. He opens his contacts and navigates down until he finds the one he’s looking for. He presses down on do not interact , holds it up to his ear, and waits.

Soobin picks up on the fourth ring.

“Yeonjun-hyung? Is something wrong?”

“Something is very fucking wrong!” he hisses. He hears ruffling on the other side of the phone. “Soobin, what the fuck?”

“What?” Soobin says, sounding affronted. “What did I do? Is it about my comment on your post? Hyung, you know I don’t mean it when I say you’re ugly—”

“This has nothing to do with that!” he exclaims. Yeonjun rubs at his face, aggravated. His hand is still bloody. “The present, Soobin. The present.”

“Oh,” Soobin says slowly. “Oh.”

“Is it real?”

He has to pull his phone away from his ear when the obnoxious sound of Soobin’s laughter floods through the speaker. He doesn’t stop for a good ten seconds. Yeonjun utilises them by wondering why they became friends in the first place, and swearing to himself that he was going to cut Soobin off for real this time.

“‘It’s’ real, hyung,” Soobin finally says. Yeonjun can just hear the annoying smile on his face right now. “I can’t believe you actually did it. Like, I know it’s real, but I can’t believe you were actually stupid enough to—”

Yeonjun hangs up and throws his phone onto the couch.

From behind him, he hears the sound of soft feet again. He tips his head further back and catches sight of him upside down. He’s wearing clothes now, which means Yeonjun can stand to look at him, which is a small step in the right direction.

The genie walks around until he’s standing before Yeonjun again. He’s wearing Yeonjun’s favourite pair of Adidas sweatpants and an old t-shirt with a bear patch sewn on the front. They’re both too big for him; the shirt is loose all around the chest and middle like it never was on Yeonjun, and the extra fabric of the pants are bunched around his ankles. To make matters worse (if it was possible for things to be worse), he’s sporting an apologetic expression, and looking down at his feet.

Yeonjun sighs. Looking at him now, he can admit that the genie is good-looking. His red hair is strangely captivating, and his full cheeks are more than a little cute. If there’s one thing about Choi Yeonjun, it’s that he’s never been immune to cute things.

Yeonjun scoots over and pats the empty spot beside him. The genie sits carefully.

“So,” Yeonjun says. “So… you’re real.”

The boy nods. “You don’t sound very thrilled about that. Usually people are a lot more excited.”

Yeonjun gulps. “It’s hard to be thrilled when I’m still trying to wrap my head around it,” he admits. The genie shifts back on the sofa and pulls his legs up to cross them. He looks even smaller like that, and Yeonjun has to force down the overwhelming bout of cuteness aggression he’s about to cough up. “A genie. A real genie. Sorry if I’m being rude, but I still can’t tell if I’m hallucinating or not.”

The genie laughs. He has a nice laugh, light and softer than his voice. “I’m sorry to say that you’re not hallucinating. This must be weird for you. Usually when humans wake me up, they… well, they know what they’re getting themselves into. I thought Soobin would have told me.”

Yeonjun leans back and stares up at the ceiling. “He kind of told me,” he says. “Just in a really stupid way. I’m sorry for… waking you up. You don’t have to stick around, though.” He feels exhausted when he turns to look at him again. “Sorry, but I really can’t stomach this genie thing.”

The boys' eyebrows knit together. He brings a hand to his mouth and gnaws on a fingernail, looking nervous.

“It… doesn’t really work like that,” he eventually says. “Like I said earlier. Since you woke me up, I’m granting you three wishes. I have to grant you three wishes,” he continues to explain. “Or I can’t go. I’m sorry. The rules are really strict on this, so…”

He trails off. Yeonjun runs a hand through his own hair and lets out a long-suffering sigh. It’s not the genie’s fault that Soobin is an idiot, he supposes. It would be a blatant lie to say that there’s nothing Yeonjun could wish for, either. Good fortune, ten million won, a ticket to see BTS live. 

But something about using magic to achieve any of those just feels a little wrong. Yeonjun likes to think of himself as a noble, upstanding citizen. He doesn’t think his conscience would let him give himself a leg up like that. He’s not Soobin.

“There isn’t really anything I want to wish for,” Yeonjun says. He turns to look at the genie, who’s watching him curiously. “This is going to be hard.”

“Well, there’s no rush,” the genie says, shrugging. “It’s not like I can go back even if I tried, so. ” 

“Right,” he says, thinking. “Okay. Well. I’m definitely thinking about it.”

“That’s the spirit,” the boys says. He reaches up and pets Yeonjun’s hair encouragingly. “Whatever you want, just say the word.”

“Am I allowed to wish for—”

“You aren’t allowed to wish for more wishes,” the genie says, hiding a smile. “That’s always the first thing people ask me.”

Yeonjun’s cheeks grow warm and he rubs the back of his neck in embarrassment. He thinks again and this time he asks, very unintelligently, “am I allowed to wish for more genies?”

The genie’s eyelashes flutter as he blinks. His cheeks round out with a smile as he laughs again. It’s a pleasant little sound, and Yeonjun tries not to let himself be too smug about causing it.

“I don’t think so,” the genie answers, shaking his head. “That’s a pretty sneaky request for a guy who can’t even think of a proper wish, you know.”

Yeonjun laughs too. He’s beginning to feel better about this whole genie thing. Maybe he’s just easy, but there’s something nice and soothing and non-threatening about this genie. He could get along with him.

“Sorry,” Yeonjun says. “I’ll think about it properly. And my name is Yeonjun,” he adds, offering his hand out to the genie who takes it enthusiastically. “It’s nice to meet you.” 

“It’s nice to meet you too, Yeonjun,” the genie says. Yeonjun waits for him to offer up a name in return, but he doesn’t say anything else after that. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand kindly, and then lets go.

“So… what’s your name?” Yeonjun asks.

The genie frowns. “My name?”

He nods slowly. “Your name.” 

“Oh,” the boy whispers. He thinks long and hard to himself for a few seconds. “I don’t have one.”

“You don’t have a name ?”

“Nope.” Yeonjun’s mouth falls open in surprise, but the genie looks relatively unbothered by this piece of information. 

“Then what am I supposed to call you?”

“Your genie?” he offers up unhelpfully. Yeonjun shakes his head resolutely. There’s something about that that feels wrong. He doesn’t want to have his wishes granted by a genie that doesn’t even have his own name. Maybe he’s not exactly a person, but it still feels dehumanising, and Yeonjun simply won’t stand for it.

“But you need a name,” he argues. “A proper name. Can you pick one?”

“I don’t really mind though.” The genie tilts his head to the side, pulling his legs up towards his chest. He rests his soft cheek on his knee and stares intently at Yeonjun. “If you want to pick one, you can. It doesn’t bother me.”

Yeonjun chews on his bottom lip and thinks. He’s never had the honour to name something before. It feels like a great deal of pressure in that moment. What kind of a name would even suit him? 

Yeonjun looks the genie up and down wordlessly. It definitely has to be a cute name. The boy’s round, gentle eyes and delicate features are difficult to describe, but they almost remind Yeonjun of a baby bear. 

He taps his finger against his chin thoughtfully.

“What about Gom ?”

The boy shivers in disgust. “No thanks.”

“I thought you didn’t care!”

“Well,” he says matter-of-factly, “I think it could at least be something cute. ” He flashes Yeonjun a dazzling, cheeky smile. 

The heat on the back of Yeonjun’s neck is definitely a result of mild irritation. He is definitely not flustered. He tells himself this as he surveys the boy’s features closely. Nothing comes to mind, and he sighs.

“I’m too indecisive,” Yeonjun concludes. “I don’t want to give you a proper name. That’s too much pressure.”

The genie boos childishly and Yeonjun narrows his eyes.

“But I want to give you a nickname. You don’t have to stick with it.”

The genie perks back up. He squeezes his knees tighter into himself and drags himself closer to Yeonjun on the couch like an abnormally large and abnormally cute ball.

“What about… Teddy?”

The boy has to mull it over for a second. But then he’s smiling at Yeonjun again and giving his head a few proud nods.

“I like it,” he—Teddy—says. “It’s cute. I don’t mind it.”

“It would be nice if you had a real name though,” Yeonjun replies. He crosses one leg over the other. “You should think about it yourself and give yourself a proper one, Teddy-yah.”

“Roger,” Teddy says, in a voice that tells Yeonjun he’s probably not going to do it.

“I’m serious.” He frowns and reaches across to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Think about it.”

“I’ll think about it if you think about your wishes,” he challenges, smiling mischievously. Yeonjun laughs and lets his head fall forward. As cute as he may be, he’s beginning to think—and he hopes he’s wrong about this—that Teddy is going to be a bit of a handful.

♡

As a surprise to no one, life with the genie does not go smoothly.

Like he’d explained to Yeonjun on the first night, he wasn’t able to go until Yeonjun used up his three wishes. Yeonjun hadn’t thought about this in a literal sense, but it meant that Teddy was really stuck here.

This complicates things.

On the first night since he’d summoned him, when it’s time for bed, he had expected Teddy to just… climb back into the bottle. Perhaps it was a silly assumption to make, but Yeonjun had seen enough animated films to know that was what he could expect.

Teddy had explained to him that that wasn’t possible.

“I can’t go back into the bottle at all until you use your wishes,” he’d said, looking comfortable on Yeonjun’s couch. “So I can’t sleep in there.”

The only option that Yeonjun was left with was to let Teddy sleep on his couch. He brought him his spare blankets and pillows, and they set up a makeshift bed for him there. But Yeonjun knew by the third day that this wasn’t going to be a permanent solution; he liked having his couch free of sleeping genies in the morning, and Teddy had a habit of sleeping in well past the time Yeonjun usually wakes up.

But Yeonjun is in no position to finance a new temporary bed for his apartment for a magical creature to sleep in. He thinks about asking Soobin to house Teddy a few times. Afterall, it was his fault that they were inevitably stuck with each other. Yeonjun is a strong believer in taking accountability for your actions, especially if those actions happen to inconvenience him.

An alternative solution comes about on the fifth night that Teddy shares in his apartment.

Yeonjun goes to sleep that night unsuspecting. Like typical of the last few days, he’d helped Teddy set up a little bed on his sofa, lent him something to sleep in, and tried not to lose his mind about how cute he looked in Yeonjun’s old clothes. 

When he wakes up, though, it’s to a sight he hasn’t seen before. As he rubs sleep from his eyes clumsily, he’s greeted by warmth right beside him. It’s so warm and pleasant that he almost lets himself close his eyes and fall back asleep.

But his real life calls. Yeonjun groans, forcing himself to peer through groggy eyes at what’s beside him. For a moment, he forgets about the genie’s existence, and what he sees almost gives him a heart attack.

A tuft of bright red hair is sticking out from the top of his blanket. There’s a distinctly human shaped lump beneath the blanket right under it. Yeonjun can feel something pressed against his chest—something warm and soft.

He springs up into a sitting position. From his side, he hears a quiet whine and the rustling of bed sheets. His heart is pounding against his ribcage in a mixture of shock and panic, before the blankets are being peeled down to reveal a disgruntled but familiar face. 

“Stop movin’,” Teddy rasps out. His voice when it’s full of sleep is so cute that Yeonjun almost forgets that he should be upset about this. “‘M sleepy.”

“Why are you in my bed?” he demands. He no longer feels the twinge of anxiety he’d felt when he woke up, but his heartbeat is still racing. Teddy answers with another whine, this one sounding more irritated, as he pulls the blanket back up to his chin. 

“Tired,” he mumbles. He rolls onto his stomach to bury his face in Yeonjun’s pillow. 

“Why aren’t you sleeping on the couch?”

Teddy doesn’t answer. From the looks of things, his breathing has evened out again, so he’s probably asleep. Yeonjun rubs both his hands up his face and into his own hair, which he proceeds to pull at in frustration.

He has to take several deep breaths to calm himself before he’s waking Teddy again by shaking his shoulder.

The genie shakes his head and makes a futile attempt at pushing Yeonjun’s hand away. He keeps shaking and shaking until he’s forced to roll back over with an enormous grumble. Once he’s on his side, his ears flutter open and he looks up at Yeonjun with a half-asleep glare.

(Yeonjun knows it’s supposed to be intimidating and stern, but he can’t help the way his heart lurches at the sight. It’s so cute. )

“Why aren’t you on the couch?” he repeats. He doesn’t plan on moving or letting Teddy fall back asleep until he gets a solid answer. 

“Too cold,” Teddy eventually says. He sounds like he has a mouth full of cotton wool; his voice is raspy and distant, still laced with sleep. Yeonjun feels a little bad about waking him before he reminds himself that this is his bed. He deserves to know why someone’s in it, and he reserves the right to kick them out. “Uncomfy. I don’t like the couch.”

“But,” Yeonjun begins, forehead wrinkling. “But you can’t just sleep in my bed without permission. You could have woken me up. And I have more blankets, if it was that cold.”

His tone has taken on a stern, scolding tone that seems to make Teddy shrink. His sleepy, puffy eyes look downturned and sad as the fronts of his eyebrows lift. His lower lip juts out ever so slightly in a heart-wrenching pout, and Yeonjun knows right away that he’s doomed. 

“I’m sorry,” the genie says. Whatever guilt Yeonjun is currently feeling is multiplied by his tone of voice. He’s starting to feel a lot like the Worst Guy on Earth. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”

Yeonjun reaches out to gently brush his fingers through his red bangs. “It’s okay,” he mumbles. “I’m sorry for getting upset at you. You just have to ask me next time, okay?”

Teddy nods, and Yeonjun leaves it at that. He slips out of bed and tucks the blankets back up around the genie as he nods off back to sleep. When he walks into his bathroom he stares at his reflection long and hard in the mirror before pointing an accusatory finger at himself.

“You,” he states. “Need to stop being weak.”

That night, when Yeonjun is scooting underneath his covers with the lights off, he hears a soft knock on his door. He settles down against his pillows with a fond kind of smile before he calls out loud enough for the boy on the other side to hear: “come in, Teddy.”

The door creaks open a crack. With light streaming in from the hallway, he can make out how the genie peers inside at him with one eye. Today he’s wearing an old hoodie of Yeonjun's for sleeping. It fits his shoulders nicely, but the front is loose and baggy. 

“Can I?” he asks quietly. How could Yeonjun say no to that voice? He’s not a monster. 

He nods, realises Teddy might not be able to see it, and then scoots over to the side. “Okay,” he says, patting the empty space beside him. “But just for tonight. I’m going to get you your own bed, so you’ll only have to have the couch for a bit longer. Deal?”

Teddy bounds over and drops into the space Yeonjun had made for him. Immediately he’s pulling up the blankets right over his head, leaving just the top exposed like he had this morning. Yeonjun laughs and pats it.

“Sleep well, Teddy,” he whispers.

But Yeonjun never ends up buying that bed. The next night, the genie is at his door again. Yeonjun has not gained any new found strength overnight (unfortunately), so he doesn’t deny him for a second time when he asks to share Yeonjun’s bed.

He’s not terrible to sleep beside; for the most part, he keeps his hands and feet to himself, he hardly hogs the blanket, and he’s nice and warm. Yeonjun can empathise with his distaste for his sofa. He’d gotten it when he first moved out from a friend. He loved it, and he would never turn down such generosity from any of his friend’s who typically bullied him, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t admit it wasn’t the best for comfort.

The problem is that night and night again, Teddy keeps doing it. Like clockwork, he appears at Yeonjun’s door and waits to be invited in. By the fifth or sixth night, he stops asking. All it takes is a small opening in the door, and Yeonjun is ready to pull back his covers and make them both comfortable.

Yeonjun really should buy a second bed. He doesn’t think it needs to be a large one, like his own. When Teddy sleeps, he sleeps tiny. He would probably be capable of sleeping in a cardboard box like a kitten if he wanted to. 

Maybe it’s because he finds himself not minding it so much, which is strange in itself, because Yeonjun hates sharing a bed. The aura Teddy has is so boyish and endearing, though, that he can’t bring himself to dislike it. And if he doesn’t dislike it, and if Teddy seems fine with it, what’s the point of purchasing a second bed?

Besides, it won’t be forever. He can deal with a cute genie sharing his bed for the foreseeable future. It’s just until Yeonjun decides on his wishes, and he doesn’t plan on taking forever.

♡

Before Yeonjun uses his first wish, he meets up with Soobin.

It’s been a little over a week since he started living with Teddy. For the last nine days, Yeonjun has turned over what feels like every nook and cranny in his brain to decide what he’d like to wish for. So far, he’d come up mostly blank. 

There are a lot of things that Yeonjun would honestly and sincerely like in life. But they’re things he’d like to achieve organically and naturally with his own devices. He needs new inspiration to decide what to use his wishes for, because he’s driving himself crazy with indecisiveness. 

First, though, he has other things to take care of. Like throttling Choi Soobin.

“Hyung!” Soobin gasps, trying desperately to fend off Yeonjun’s hands. Yeonjun is much stronger but Soobin is much taller, so it’s pure luck that he manages to just escape and step out of Yeonjun’s range of attack. “What are you attacking me for?”

“You know exactly what I’m attacking you for,” Yeonjun says, eyes narrowing. “I really can’t believe what you’ve done. A genie ? You gave me a real genie for my birthday?”

Soobin crosses his arms across his chest indignantly. “I don’t know what you’re being so ungrateful for. It’s a good present. It’s a great present, actually. Why are you so upset about it?”

“It’s the kind of present you need to warn a man about.” Yeonjun crosses his arms over his chest and nails Soobin with the Hyung Look. “How do you think I felt when he appeared naked?”

“I forgot about that,” Soobin says, unconvincingly. He’s trying to disguise a troublemaking grin behind sincere apology, and Yeonjun isn’t stupid enough to fall for it. Anymore. “You need to have a better mindset, hyung. You saw someone naked. Congratulations, and you’re welcome.”

Yeonjun has to close his eyes and count to ten to stop himself from committing several crimes. “This isn’t funny. Stop congratulating me.”

“I don’t think it’s funny,” Soobin says, all bright and cheerful and annoying. “I think it’s something worthy of celebration. It’s the most you’ve gotten all year.”

Yeonjun scrunches up his face. If there’s one insult that really, really gets under his skin, it’s the insinuation that he’s bitchless. Soobin does it. Wooyoung does it. Even his mom does it sometimes, when he tells her that he has a date coming up and she has the nerve to be surprised.

While it may be true that Yeonjun’s awful twenties have been more barren than his even worse teens in terms of night-time success, he strongly opposes the bitchless rhetoric. Yeonjun is only lonely by choice. By his own slightly cruel and semi-masochistic choice to be the way he is. 

“I don’t appreciate your tone,” Yeonjun huffs, uncrossing his arms and rolling his shoulders. “And I don’t like what you’re insinuating.

Soobin gives Yeonjun a dimpley, shit-eating grin. “Do you think he’s cute?”

He lets out a long-suffering groan. “Enough talk about the genie. Let’s talk about something else.”

“But you wanted to talk to me about the genie,” Soobin argues. He digs into his pocket and pulls out his phone like he’s about to pull up some real receipts. Yeonjun gets a two second glance at his phone screen. 

There are two new faces on his wallpaper that don’t go unnoticed by Yeonjun. Yeonjun’s attention doesn’t go unnoticed by Soobin either, and he’s quick to stuff his phone back into his pocket.

“Actually,” he continues, avoiding meeting Yeonjun’s eyes. “I have to go. I have class.”

“It’s Sunday,” Yeonjun points out. Soobin is already moving, trying to brush past Yeonjun like a little weasel. He spins around, plants both of his hands firmly on Soobin’s shoulders, and pulls him to a stop. “ Soobin. ”

Soobin whines and attempts to shrug Yeonjun’s hands off. But he’s stubborn and persistent, so he digs his fingers in harder, until Soobin is stilling again in surrender.

“What?” Soobin snaps. “I have to go, hyung.”

“Who’s on your phone screen?” Yeonjun asks. His lips are curling up into an evil sort of smile. Soobin always tries to hide things like this from Yeonjun. But just like a kid’s diary with a flimsy lock, Yeonjun is always able to get inside and read him. 

Soobin pleads the fifth and says nothing. He shakes him a few times to try and coax a word out of him to no avail.

“Soobin,” he calls in his most insufferable hyung voice. It’s the kind of voice Yeonjun’s older friends always use when they’re about to engage in public Yeonjun shaming. “What did you wish the genie for?”

Soobin uses all of his strength to finesse himself out of Yeonjun’s hold. He takes several long-legged strides away, and only turns to look at him once he’s in the clear. “It’s confidential. Goodbye, hyung.”

“Soobin!”

His dongsaeng is long gone, but Yeonjun can only smile to himself. He feels vindicated by Soobin’s obvious embarrassment. He has a feeling he knows what he wished for.

♡

When Yeonjun returns home to his apartment, Teddy is curled up into a little ball on his sofa. There’s a drama playing on the TV that Yeonjun has never seen before, but the genie is engrossed. He doesn’t notice Yeonjun’s arrival until the older is stepping into the living space and clearing his throat.

Teddy startles. His widened eyes round onto Yeonjun before they soften with recognition and welcome. It’s so adorable that it goes right through Yeonjun’s heart, and he has to swallow down a mouthful of cuteness aggression. 

“Welcome home,” Teddy greets. Then he asks, like he does everyday when Yeonjun gets home: “have you thought of what you wish for yet?”

For the last week and a bit, Yeonjun had answered with some variation of a shake of his head. But today, he gives Teddy a solemn smile. 

The genie perks up immediately. Yeonjun wishes that he could find as much enjoyment in his job as Teddy seems to find in his, because his eyes have completely lit up at the implication that Yeonjun might finally, finally be utilising his powers.

Teddy uncurls his legs from around himself to sit up straight. Excitedly, he taps the spot right beside him on the couch. Yeonjun sits down feeling weirdly nervous. He wipes his palms dry on his jeans.

“You have something in mind?” Teddy asks. Yeonjun confirms it with a nod. He clasps his hands together and looks seriously at the genie.

“Yes,” he states firmly. Teddy puts both of his hands on top of Yeonjun’s. It takes his all not to let his serious, steady expression crack into a smile. “I have something in mind.”

Teddy practically preens. It’s getting harder and harder for Yeonjun to stifle his smile. He can feel the corner of his lips quirking up disobediently. 

“Lay it on me,” the genie exclaims. He squeezes Yeonjun’s hand a tad too tightly. Yeonjun breaks character for a second to wince, and Teddy looks apologetic for a moment as he loosens his grip. “Your genie is ready.”

“I wish,” Yeonjun starts slowly. He drags out each vowel and syllable so it’s painfully slow. Teddy is on the edge of his seat with anticipation, and the sincerity of it is so endearing that Yeonjun’s heart does a pitiful little flip. “That you had a real name.”

The atmosphere is shattered. The genie lets go of his hands crossly and drags himself away from Yeonjun on the couch. They watch each other, Yeonjun with a steely expression and the genie with moderate resentment, before the genie speaks.

“Are you making fun of my powers?” he asks hotly, but it’s so unthreatening that Yeonjun finally caves and lets out a long laugh. This only seems to annoy Teddy more. His thick eyebrows are comically downturned as he kicks Yeonjun in the thigh. “You are making fun of my powers. I’m not going to grant you any wishes anymore. You can die wishless.”

Yeonjun only laughs harder and clutches at his stomach. He’s still shaking with laughter when he manages to pull himself together enough to talk. “I’m not making fun of you. Sorry, sorry. I shouldn’t be laughing.” He says it while wiping a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing so hard, so he doesn’t blame Teddy for kicking him again in the thigh— a lot harder this time.

“I’m not giving you any wishes,” Teddy repeats. Yeonjun raises an eyebrow as he looks at him and scoots closer. He keeps scooting and scooting until they’re right next to each other and he’s squishing the genie into the arm of his couch.

“I thought it was Genie Law or something,” Yeonjun recites. “I woke you up. I get the wishes. Are you allowed to withhold them from me?” 

“I’m willing to walk that road.”

“Scary,” Yeonjun teases, much to Teddy’s chagrin. “Genie-nim, could you please grant me my wish?”

“But it doesn’t even make sense logistically ,” he argues with an eye roll. “It has to make sense for me to make it happen. That’s just how it works.”

“I’m failing to see how you getting a real name is logistically flawed.”

“You don’t understand how the magic works.” Teddy rolls his eyes with even more brattitude than the first time. “But okay. I’ll grant your dumb wish. Can you actually think about the next ones?”

Yeonjun nods and crosses his heart for show. Teddy has resigned himself to a disgruntled expression, but he doesn’t look half as annoyed as he first had. He clears his throat and peers at Yeonjun through the corner of his eye.

“You have to close your eyes. Obviously.” He probably adds on the last one just to be mean, but Yeonjun is too excited at the concept of real, genuine magic to care. He covers his eyes with his hands so Teddy knows he’s not peeking, and waits.

From behind his closed eyelids, he sees a flash of light that only lasts a few seconds. Where they’re pressed side to side he feels a searing, scorching heat that he almost jumps away from, but it’s gone a breath later.

The room stills, and the light fades away. Yeonjun sits there in blind silence, waiting for the genie to speak. He can hear his own heartbeat hammering away in his ears. Finally, the genie speaks.

“That,” he says. “Was such a waste.”

Yeonjun’s excitement is instantly tamped down. He frowns, metaphorically cat ears turning down. “It didn’t work?”

Teddy groans from beside him. “Just open your eyes, Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun lowers his hands down slowly. He turns to look at the genie with a growing pout. If he couldn’t even magic himself up a name , then how on earth did he manage to magic Soobin some game?

“This magic is starting to feel less and less powerful,” he accuses. The genie cracks a laugh and then, before Yeonjun can dissolve into a full-blown grown adult tantrum, he offers out his hand.

Yeonjun blinks at it unwittingly a few times. Eventually, he takes the cue and takes it tensely in his.

The genie shakes it erratically. 

“Hello,” he says. “My name is Beomgyu.”

Yeonjun goes to bed happy that night. It’s strange to think about how unusual it was to fall asleep happy just three weeks ago. Privately, he has to admit he’s starting to feel some form of gratitude for Soobin. Not enough that he’d be willing (ever) to thank him, but maybe enough that next time he sees him, he’ll buy him a coffee. He might even consider getting him one that he likes , which is more than Soobin has ever done for him.

Like ritual, he hears his door open. He doesn’t even have to look; he recognises the sound of soft feet gently toeing across his hardwood floors. A shadow appears above him and he opens his eyes with a small smile. 

“Hello,” he greets quietly, pulling back the blanket. The genie—Beomgyu—fits into the space beside him.

“Hi,” he whispers back. 

Yeonjun waits until the moving stops and Beomgyu is comfortable. His head turns on the pillow to look at him. Yeonjun can easily make out Beomgyu laying on his side facing him, and their eyes meet in the darkness.

“Beomgyu,” he calls quietly. The genie hums in question, and Yeonjun feels himself beginning to grin. “Beomgyu. It’s cute.”

Beomgyu snorts. “I think it’s okay.”

“I’m glad I wished for it,” Yeonjun admits. Beomgyu begins to move around again, scooting further and further down until half of his face is disappearing under the sea of Yeonjun’s blankets. “I felt… weird, I guess. About you not having one. It just felt disrespectful.”

“I still think it was a waste,” Beomgyu reminds him. His voice is muffled from underneath the blankets, but there’s something about it that sounds awfully shy. “I was fine with Teddy. I didn’t need one at all.”

“But still,” he insists. His fingers curl towards Beomgyu until he’s able to sink them into his soft red hair. “It’s nice to have a name. It makes you seem more human.”

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything. Yeonjun gives his hair a few soft strokes, revelling in the feeling of it, before drawing back his hand.

The blankets are tugged downwards enough for Beomgyu to pop his head out again. “Yeonjun,” he says, in the tone teacher’s use to explain algebra to unintelligent students. “I’m not a human. I’m a genie.”

♡

Yeonjun would be silly if he hadn’t noticed something about himself over the last few weeks he’d spent with Beomgyu. If anything, the rampant-ness of his cuteness aggression was telling enough. The genie was cute. But not just cute in the way that triggered the inexplicable violent urge in Yeonjun to squeeze his cheeks or bite him.

He was cute in the way that made Yeonjun’s stomach feel queasy. He was cute in a way that made Yeonjun feel okay about having one-person-less amount of clothes (even of Yeonjun’s favourite variety), and having to fork out the extra money on growing water and electricity bills. He was cute in a way that made Yeonjun at times forget about the fact that he was there sharing Yeonjun’s space only to fulfil his genie-ly duties and not because he wanted to bask in domestic life with him.

It was weird in a sense, because it wasn’t like they did anything. Their daily life was simple and unchanging. When Yeonjun gets home, Beomgyu will greet him and ask him if he’s ready to make a wish yet. They’ll watch whatever human drama Beomgyu is currently fixated on, and Yeonjun will let him talk his ear off about it over dinner despite the fact that he never pays attention.

After dinner, Yeonjun gets to pick the activity. Sometimes they play video games. Sometimes Yeonjun spends time introducing him to modern music because Beomgyu is unironically a fan of Beethoven, and Yeonjun does not even want to begin unpacking the age-related meaning of that. Sometimes they just sit and talk, and Yeonjun lets Beomgyu pick at his brain for a few hours, before it’s time for one of them to shower.

Beomgyu usually showers first. When he emerges from the bathroom, it’s in whatever clothes Yeonjun felt like lending him that day. The shirts are never really an issue, but the pants are always near an inch too long for him. He’ll never get tired of the way everything bunches around Beomgyu’s ankles, so every step he takes is followed by the soft sound of fabric on wood floor. 

Every night, he thinks about how he should get Beomgyu some of his own clothes. But he’s reminded about the fact that at the root of it, this is temporary. Beomgyu is here to grant Yeonjun three wishes, and then he’s gone. There’s no point in buying him his own clothes, just as there was no point buying him his own bed. 

For whatever duration of time they have in Yeonjun’s apartment, he’s okay with sharing.

After Yeonjun showers, they spend some time apart. Yeonjun—as old as it makes him sound—likes to read in his room before bed, and Beomgyu likes to rot his brain some more with the TV. 

The time apart hardly lasts. And quite frankly, as the days trickle by and it turns into a month since Yeonjun had awoken Beomgyu, he begins to focus less and less on the reading and more and more on the anticipation of when Beomgyu would arrive.

It’s almost unbelievable to think that Yeonjun had spent so much of his adult life alone. Now, he can’t fathom what it’ll be like falling asleep without Beomgyu when he isn’t here anymore. It’s a terrible and torturous thought, a constant reminder that this is temporary. 

Selfishly, Yeonjun wonders what it would be like if he never uses another wish. He can’t think of anything he’d like more than to keep Beomgyu here with him for just a little longer— that’s his real wish. 

(Ironically, Yeonjun ends up using his second wish on his 23rd birthday.)

♡

The day Yeonjun turns 23, he rolls over in his bed to find a gorgeous face staring back at him.

The gorgeous face isn’t the abnormality here; Beomgyu is always gorgeous, a fact Yeonjun’s useless brain will never let him forget. What’s abnormal about it is the fact that he’s awake. Awake before Yeonjun. 

Beomgyu smiles at Yeonjun as he blinks sleep out of his eyes. “Happy birthday, Yeonjun.”

It takes Yeonjun a few seconds of semi-disoriented wakefulness before he manages to smile back. He didn’t know that genie’s had a concept of birthdays. To be honest, there’s not a lot Yeonjun does know about them. Almost every question he asks is brushed off and excused by the genie’s code of honour , which states that Beomgyu is not allowed to tell Yeonjun anything about the species. Or something like that.

“Thank you, Beomgyu,” he whispers back. His voice is hoarse and thick with sleep. With all the coordination of a kitten after a nap, Yeonjun reaches out to brush back Beomgyu’s bangs. Typically, the first person to greet Yeonjun on his birthday is Soobin, and sometimes Wooyoung. If he dared to check his phone, he’d probably discover at least one of them had sent him a message at midnight, but he doesn’t want to.

He’ll choose to believe that the real first person (or creature?) to greet him on his 23rd one was Beomgyu, because a pretty smile and cute bed hair is miles above anything either of them could provide Yeonjun in a birthday greeting.

“Are you going to get presents today?”

Yeonjun hums thoughtfully and closes his eyes again. When they sleep beside each other, it’s rare that they touch. But today, their legs are tangled together beneath the sheets. Beomgyu’s feet are warm underneath the blankets. 

“I’m not sure,” he admits softly. “Maybe not. I’m having dinner tonight with a friend. I don’t know if she’ll get me a present, though.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu whispers back. Yeonjun’s eyes flutter open at the tone of his voice. He sounds disappointed, and for a second he can’t work out why. Then it dawns on him and he feels his heart clench a little.

“Sorry,” Yeonjun breathes, brushing his fingers down the side of Beomgyu’s neck. His skin is so smooth, much more than Yeonjun’s is. He can’t tell if it’s a genie-thing or a Beomgyu-thing, and is equally as stumped on what would be better. “I forgot to tell you. I’m not going to be home tonight for dinner, but I don’t have work today. Birthday boy privileges.”

He watches as a single wrinkle forms between Beomgyu’s eyebrows, like he’s trying to hold back his feelings and failing. Yeonjun bites back his smile and rubs his thumb against it soothingly.

“So I’m going to be alone?”

Yeonjun gulps. “Yeah. I’m sorry, Gyu. It’ll be a few hours.”

“That’s okay,” Beomgyu eventually says, sounding like it’ll be very much not okay. Yeonjun tries to not let his mind wander into why he sounds so upset. Instead, he settles for a poor attempt at convincing himself that genie’s are just like small animals, and they get separation anxiety.

Then, he’s struck with a brilliant idea. “Hey.” He sits up in bed feeling all of a sudden awake and rejuvenated. “Hey. Do you want to do something today?”

Beomgyu slowly sits up with him. Their usual version of ‘do something’ is the aversion person’s definition of do nothing, wherein they just sit in Yeonjun’s living room and watch TV. But the kind of ‘do something’ he’s thinking of today is different (and it’s not the inappropriate kind).

“I think there’s a new Business Proposal episode out. We could watch that,” Beomgyu offers, disastrously unaware of what Yeonjun is suggesting. He shakes his head meaningfully. 

“I think we should do something,” he begins, flourishing his hands. “ Outside. ”

The pleasant expression on Beomgyu’s face sours as quickly as milk left out in the sun. He flops back down onto his back, makes a resounding booing sound, and then rolls over.

“No thank you. I’m built for the great indoors, Yeonjun. I literally lived inside a bottle for most of my life.”

“Which is exactly why we should go out,” Yeonjun argues, nudging his shoulder incessantly. “Please? While you still have the chance.”

Beomgyu doesn’t face him fully, but he does shift a quarter of the way back, so Yeonjun knows he’s close to success. He squeezes Beomgyu’s shoulder again and slowly, the genie turns back to him.

“But,” he whispers in a voice that’s so innocent it almost breaks Yeonjun’s heart, “I haven’t gone outside in a long time. I’m nervous.”

So this is what it’s really about. Yeonjun only coos internally. Externally, he uses one hand to guide Beomgyu back into a sitting position, and then cups his cheeks with both of them.

“Beomgyu,” he breathes. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. You’ll be with me, and I go outside almost everyday. We can eat something nice, and you can see the city. It looks just like it does in our shows, I promise.”

This manages to draw a small smile out of Beomgyu. Yeonjun smiles wider, relieved, and his happiness must be infectious because Beomgyu begins to laugh. Overwhelmed by a range of emotions he’s going to lazily dub cuteness aggression as per usual, Yeonjun wraps both his arms around Beomgyu and pulls him in for a hug.

“Okay,” Beomgyu concedes. He digs his chin sharply into Yeonjun’s shoulder. His arms fit themselves around Yeonjun’s midsection. It’s warm, and fond, and Yeonjun is left questioning why he’d never done this before. “I’ll go with you. Only because it’s your birthday. People are supposed to do special things for you for your birthday.”

He says it in a way that suggests it’s something he’s learnt recently, and not a concept he’s personally familiar with. Yeonjun wants to ask Beomgyu if he has a birthday, but is promptly reminded about the Beethoven-thing, and decides to save them both a really awkward conversation. 

“That’s right,” he praises, turning his face to nuzzle against Beomgyu’s soft cheek. He resists the urge to bite it. “So let’s get up, Gyu. I’ll let you wear the nice clothes today, I promise.”

Yeonjun stays true to his word. After breakfast, he picks out an outfit for both of them. He swears that he doesn’t make them match on purpose, and then tries to go back on it because unconscious matching sounds even lamer. 

Beomgyu is dressed in a pair of cream shorts he brought but never wore and his black Prada t-shirt. Opposingly, Yeonjun finds himself wearing black shorts and a white Celine t-shirt. He picks out one of his messenger bags for himself, and lets Beomgyu wear his favourite sneakers. They’re a size too big, and Yeonjun tries not to revel in that fact.

When they step out of his apartment, Beomgyu freezes before they even get to the elevator. Yeonjun understands; Beomgyu hasn’t been out of that space in the month since they’d met, and he sincerely doubts he went outside with Soobin either, who is infamous in their friend ring for rarely touching grass.

Yeonjun takes his hand comfortingly. He gives Beomgyu as much time as he needs to steady his breathing and stave off his nerves. Neither of them say anything—they don’t have to—but Yeonjun makes sure his presence and support is felt. The pad of his thumb traces circles into the back of Beomgyu’s hand until he’s ready to get into the elevator a few minutes later.

Beomgyu holds onto him tightly as the elevator takes them down to the ground floor. When they step off, Yeonjun has to exercise every last ounce of self-control (and self-preservation) to not laugh at Beomgyu’s spaghetti legs. He holds onto Yeonjun’s arm, half-terrified and half-in awe, as they walk through the lobby of Yeonjun’s apartment complex and out the doors.

They stop on the footpath when Beomgyu pulls them both to a halt. 

“Holy fuck,” he says. His voice is unsurprisingly shaky. His wide, curious eyes are flitting around the street like he doesn’t know what to focus on first. Yeonjun understands. It’s a lot to take in, and even more for someone who hasn’t been outside in… an unknown number of years.

Yeonjun pulls his arm out of Beomgyu’s hold so he can place his hand steadily to the small of his back. Beomgyu leans back against it, and with his other hand Yeonjun takes one of his.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. With his encouragement, Beomgyu manages to take one step forward. “I’m right here. Everything is safe.”

He hears Beomgyu take a determined breath and he smiles to himself. “Okay,” Beomgyu whispers back. “Where to?”

Yeonjun hasn’t had a birthday like this in a long time. The first place he takes Beomgyu is the mall. It’s not too far from his apartment complex, so they walk there. Along the way, he gets to witness Beomgyu’s growing bravery for being outside. It’s ridiculously endearing to watch the way his jittery nerves seem to melt away into rampant curiosity. 

When they get to the mall, Beomgyu is once again overwhelmed by the stimulating environment. Colours, sounds, people, words. He tucks himself right into Yeonjun’s side in an act of self-soothing. 

Yeonjun takes him to all of his favourite stores, and even his least favourite ones. He almost drops half his weekly pay on a Chanel shirt that Beomgyu likes. They make matching bears in Build-A-Bear too early, so for the rest of the day they both have to carry them around. (Which eventually turns into Beomgyu carrying both of them, one tucked underneath each arm.) They’re chased out of the Dior store by an irritated sales assistant when they have an argument about which cologne smells the best. 

Yeonjun even lets himself be dragged humiliatingly into Victoria’s Secret. They get stared at questioningly the entire time, but Yeonjun manages to suck it up to let Beomgyu pick out a perfume for himself. 

When they’re done in the mall, Yeonjun doesn’t want to go home yet. He’s having more fun with Beomgyu than he’s had for the entire year. He wants to prolong the day a little longer, even when Beomgyu begins to show signs of sleepiness.

“Tired?” he asks once they step out of Target. Beomgyu had lost interest in browsing the store only a few minutes in, so they hadn’t even been able to smell all of the candles. “You look sleepy, Beomgyu.”

Beomgyu smiles at him sheepishly. “A little bit,” he admits. “I’m not used to being out.”

He hugs the two teddy bears closer. The one that Beomgyu had made looks glaringly like him. It’s worth the strain on his arms to have Beomgyu only carry those, while he bears the load of all their bags. 

“Then let’s go home,” he says. Beomgyu nods and gives Yeonjun a pretty smile that makes his knees feel weak. Side by side, they head back to the entrance of the mall. His fingers tingle around the handles of their many bags as they walk, arms brushing together. Yeonjun badly wishes that he could reach out and hold Beomgyu’s hand. 

They don’t speak much on the way back to Yeonjun’s apartment. When they’re a block away, he begins to slow down. Even for just a moment, he wants to prolong the time they spend together today. 

And besides, it’s his birthday. It’s the one day a year he’s allowed to be a little selfish. Why not let himself indulge?

There’s a cafe on the same street as his building. He stops.

“I want an iced Americano,” he tells Beomgyu, going for neutrally casual. “Do you mind if we stop by a cafe? It doesn’t have to be long.”

Despite being obviously drained, Beomgyu gives him an easy smile and nods. It does something funny to Yeonjun’s heart to think that the genie is indulging him in his greed.

“Of course,” Beomgyu replies. “As long as you get me something too.”

Yeonjun chuckles and signals forward with his head for Beomgyu to start walking. They head up the street, passing Yeonjun’s building, and only have to walk down the road for a minute longer.

However, just before they reach the doors of the cafe, Yeonjun catches sight of a familiar face pulling the glass door open. He pulls up instantly. “On second thought,” he utters just as Beomgyu comes to a stop, turning to look back at him. “I don’t need coffee anymore. Let’s go home.”

Because God is cruel (or maybe because he doesn’t know how to keep his voice down), the person he’d been trying to avoid hears him. Soobin turns and looks at him right away in mild surprise. 

“Hyung?” he says. “What are you doing here?”

Yeonjun grits his teeth and shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Fuelling my addiction,” he says, trying to play Soobin off and hope that his lack of engagement will send the other boy off.

But it doesn’t. Soobin steps out of the way of the door and walks closer to Yeonjun and Beomgyu. He hasn’t paid Beomgyu any attention yet and Yeonjun can only hope and pray that that trend will continue. 

“Happy birthday,” Soobin says, a big grin stretching out across his face. “I can’t believe you didn’t even read my message. Happy birthday, hyung. Being twenty five must suck.”

Yeonjun glares, and from beside him he hears Beomgyu snicker like a traitor. This finally gets Soobin’s attention, who turns to him with a look in his eyes that Yeonjun can only describe as vulture-like at the potential for more material to torment him with. 

Soobin’s face lights up in recognition immediately. His jaw drops open.

“You,” he exclaims, pointing a long finger at Beomgyu. Beomgyu is grinning back at him with an air of mischief. “You!”

Beomgyu bounces up and down on the balls of his feet. “Me.”

Yeonjun can only groan, looking back and forth between the two of them.

“Him,” he finally says. 

Yeonjun doesn’t know how, but Soobin cons him into getting a table at the cafe. Yeonjun ends up sitting inside the boot, squashed unceremoniously beside their bags and teddy bears that Beomgyu had conveniently forgotten about now that Soobin was present. He watches as the two of them chat animatedly and pay him zero attention

Perhaps this is karma for pushing Beomgyu to stay out with him when the genie was tired. Eventually, Yeonjun clears his throat.

“Beomgyu,” he says, “we should go home soon.”

“But it’s still early,” Soobin interjects. “And we’re talking.”

“That’s really unfortunate,” he deadpans, already getting ready to get up and go. Beomgyu only laughs at him though, shaking his head.

“What’s the rush?” he asks. “You don’t go until later, right?”

Yeonjun sits back down on his ass, thoroughly defeated. He could argue all day with Soobin, but denying Beomgyu something he wants is out of the equation. He’s forced to sit, sulk and metaphorically twiddle his thumbs as the two before him finish their conversation.

“It’s nice that you have your own name now,” Soobin says, taking a sip of his drink. “Beomgyu is cute. Did you pick it?”

Beomgyu looks across the table at Yeonjun and smiles cheekily. “Nope,” he answers with a shake of the head. “Yeonjun wished for it. So you could say it just… came to me. It’s difficult to explain.”

Soobin’s mouth drops open again. He looks at Yeonjun with an air of judgement that he squirms under. He can practically hear the gears turning in Soobin’s head at the implications of it. He expects he thinks the same as Beomgyu had; that it had been a waste of a very precious wish.

“Huh,” Soobin says. “Interesting.”

“He’s only used one of his wishes,” Beomgyu reveals. He has his own drink in front of him. It’s something blended and topped with whipped cream that oddly suits him. “He’s not like you, Soobin. He’s savouring them.”

“I savoured mine too,” Soobin defends. “It took me, like, a week to use them.”

Yeonjun almost puffs out his chest. He feels a strong sense of pride in him knowing that he’d been able to cherish each of his wishes for this long. He tries not to think about the real motivation behind his sudden acclaim to self-discipline that’s sitting across from him.

“Sure,” Beomgyu teases. Yeonjun watches him jab at Soobin’s side. “How are things going, by the way? With them?”

Yeonjun immediately perks up. He can sense something great happening in his favour when he sees the way Soobin immediately pales, and looks across the table at Yeonjun nervously.

“Fine,” Soobin replies in a voice that tells Beomgyu not to ask anymore. “Just great, thanks for asking. Did you have fun today?”

Yeonjun stifles a laugh. Smooth , he thinks. He doesn’t need Beomgyu to dig anymore to be able to connect the dots. Soobin has placed a hand over the top of his phone protectively, like he’s expecting Yeonjun to reach across the table and snatch it up.

“Lots of fun.” Beneath the table, Beomgyu’s foot has wormed its way over towards him. “Yeonjun brought me some stuff. Birthdays are great.”

“Usually it’s the birthday boy who gets the presents,” Yeonjun interrupts, though there’s no malice to his voice. “But I’m the one who spent all the money.”

“Hyung, he’s literally a genie,” Soobin points out. He looks mildly disgusted. “If you were smart, you’d be using one of his wishes for a birthday present.”

Yeonjun rolls his eyes. The thought had crossed his mind briefly today too, but he’d been quick to shut it down. Beomgyu is fundamentally here to grant Yeonjun his wishes. Yeonjun knows that. Soobin knows that. Beomgyu knows that.

But granting his wishes means the end. Yeonjun knows that as much as he’d like to, he can’t prolong his fateful encounter with Beomgyu forever. One day he’ll have to use his last two wishes, and Beomgyu will have to go back into the bottle he came from. He knows that, but he still wants to hold on. 

It’s only been a month, but Beomgyu has become an irreplaceable existence. Yeonjun feels like he’s only ninety percent of the person he was four weeks ago. The last ten percent has been handed over to be held in Beomgyu’s hands. When he’s gone, Yeonjun fears that he’s going to lose that part of himself forever.

“Who says I wasn’t going to do that?” Yeonjun snarks back. 

“You’re going to use a wish today?” Beomgyu suddenly says. Yeonjun flinches at the sound of his voice. Like the first time he’d told Beomgyu he was ready, his voice is wound up with excitement. The starry-look is back behind his pretty eyes as he stares at Yeonjun, leaning forward on the table. He’s quite literally on the edge of his seat. 

He can’t tell if Beomgyu’s dedication and desire to grant wishes is something coded into his genie genetics, or a reflection of something in his personality. The latter option is a terrible rabbit-hole for Yeonjun to go down.

“Uh,” he says, a bit stupidly. Soobin laughs from across the table without trying to hide it and Yeonjun kicks him hard in the leg. “Well. I was thinking about it.”

Beomgyu clasps his hands together. Yeonjun knows he’s completely doomed, because there’s no possible way he could ever say no to that face. He doesn’t want to disappoint Beomgyu when he’s this happy about it. 

His pretty eyes are shining like two tapioca pearls and Yeonjun realises he’s royally fucked.

“I can’t wait,” he says. “Whatever you want, I’ll grant it.”

He really doesn’t have to say the last part. It makes Yeonjun’s stomach do a flip. He hopes his cheeks haven’t turned pink—not with his bastard of a best friend sitting across from him.

“Okay,” he answers meekly. Soobin hasn’t said anything in a hot minute, but even his silence is annoying, so Yeonjun gives him another kick under the table for good measure. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll think about it.”

Eventually they disperse. It’s Yeonjun’s idea to go home. Beomgyu and Soobin both protest it, but Yeonjun still has dinner plans that he needs to get ready for. He sends Soobin on his way with an impolite hand gesture and takes Beomgyu back home, carrying all of their bags.

While he gets ready in the bathroom, he can hear Beomgyu watching TV in the living room. It’s another one of his silly little dramas. This one must be a comedy, because every now and again he hears the sound of laughter floating down the hallway. 

He dresses himself appropriately for the restaurant Yunjin is taking him to. Nice black pants, a slinky white button down with the top 3 left undone and the sleeves buttoned up, his nicer watch. He even does his hair like he hasn’t done since he was nineteen or twenty; pushed back off his forehead with a few strands hanging down on either side.

His phone screen lights up with an Uber notification just after he finishes brushing his teeth. He slides it into his back pocket and heads out to the living room, planning on saying goodbye to Beomgyu before he leaves. 

But when he gets out to the living room, Beomgyu is curled up into a ball on the couch and fast asleep. Yeonjun smiles—probably like an idiot—as he turns down the volume on the TV with the remote. The quiet sounds of Beomgyu breathing is unfairly cute. Sleeping sounds shouldn’t be cute on anybody, and yet.

Despite his Uber being just around the corner, Yeonjun allows himself to take the time to rush back down the hallway and pluck a spare blanket out of his coat closet. It’s the blanket that had been on his sofa originally when Beomgyu started staying with him a month ago, but it had been returned to its spot in storage a week ago. There was no point leaving it out anymore.

He returns to the sofa and tucks it gently around Beomgyu. He looks so peaceful in sleep. Yeonjun is certain that if he was given the opportunity, he could spend hours like this, just watching him. Then he realises that’s probably a little bit creepy, and he forces himself to stand back up. 

He allows himself to gently card his fingers through Beomgyu’s hair as a treat. The genie shifts in his sleep, pressing closer into his touch like a cat would, and Yeonjun has to bite down on his lip to stop himself from audibly cooing.

“Goodnight, Beomgyu,” he whispers, feeling immensely warm and fond. “I’ll be home soon.”

When Yeonjun gets to the restaurant, Yunjin is waiting outside the front for him. It’s an upscale Italian restaurant that is very Yunjin to pick. He steps out of the Uber and approaches. She’s wearing a blazer-style dress and staring down at her phone intently.

“Yunjin,” he calls. He stops in front of her and reaches out to ruffle her hair. “Hi.”

“Yeonjun-oppa,” she greets, shoving his hand away with force. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you,” he replies. He takes a step back and smiles. “Let’s go?”

She nods and winds their arms together as she drags him towards the door. He supposes that to anyone else watching, they must look like a couple. But he’s known Yunjin for the better part of his whole life. She’s the first person he tends to rely on when he has something major happen. She’s the only one who doesn’t laugh at him whenever something catastrophic happens.

Which is why he’s more than a little surprised that her first reaction to hearing about the state of Yeonjun’s life over the last few months is to break out into laughter.

“He got you,” she says, wiping away a stray tear. “A fucking genie ?”

Yeonjun frowns. They’ve only just sat down, and they’re already getting strange looks from the tables adjacent to theirs. “Stop laughing,” he demands. “It’s not funny. It was horrible.”

“It’s hilarious,” she counters, flipping through the menu. “I can’t believe he got you a real genie. Is he cute?”

“Soobin?” Yeonjun screws up his entire face. “Absolutely not.”

“I meant the genie, oppa.”

“Oh,” he says, faltering for a second. This is the moment he’d been waiting for— an opportunity to really ask her for advice. Before he can, though, their waiter is appearing at the side of their table and asking for orders. 

Yeonjun points to a pasta dish he can’t pronounce, and Yunjin orders steak. They both decide on a bottle of wine to share which is more expensive than Yeonjun would typically go for, but he’s not paying, so he doesn’t protest.

When the waiter finally leaves, he lets out a long-suffering sigh and buries his face in his hands.

“Oh no,” Yunjin says. She reaches out and claps him on the shoulder comfortingly. “He must be really cute.”

“The cutest ,” he replies in agony. “He’s seriously the cutest, Yunjin. I’m so screwed.”

By the end of their meal, Yeonjun has caught Yunjin up on everything. She listens dutifully like a real friend would, and when they both finish the last of their wine, she leans forward in her seat. Her elbows are resting on the table and her fingers are knitted together as she regards him almost professionally. 

“Yeonjun-oppa,” she begins. “I think you’re in love.”

Yeonjun smacks a hand against his forehead. It’s not like he wasn’t aware of that, but it’s difficult to hear out loud. He knows that his time with Beomgyu is limited. He can’t hold onto these last two wishes forever. 

“What am I supposed to do?” he asks, voice quiet. 

Yunjin doesn’t say anything for a moment. “Make the most of it,” she finally answers. “You should make the most of it while you can, oppa. I’m sorry I don’t have better advice for you this time. I know it’s hard, but like you said… he wants you to use the wishes.”

“I know,” he sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “It’s just hard to think about using them. I don’t even know what I want.” It’s not really the truth. Yeonjun knows exactly what he wants. He wants his genie to stay with him forever. He wants to never have to use up his last few wishes and keep him tethered here forever. 

Yunjin seems to know the extent of it without him saying anything. “There are still things you can wish for,” she whispers. “Like. You know.” 

Her tone of voice is suspicious. He arches an eyebrow. “Like what?”

She says nothing. She doesn’t have to. Yeonjun groans. “I hope you aren’t implying,” he begins, “that I use my wishes to solstice him for sex.”

“No!” she defends, shaking her head. “I’m not saying that. But there’s a lot of things you could wish for for the both of you. That’s what I’m saying, Yeonjun. Just think about it, okay? And don’t worry. Next time I see Soobin I’m going to kill him.”

This brings a smile to Yeonjun’s face. “Make it slow and painful.”

They fist-bump over the table and get up. Yeonjun is starting to think that he knows what he might want to wish for tonight. 

When Yeonjun gets home, Beomgyu is still fast asleep on his couch. The day must have really taken it out of him. Yeonjun drops down on the floor in front of him and lets himself indulge in watching. 

From close up, Yeonjun can make out every detail of Beomgyu’s face. His skin is clear and soft. It must be the genes of being a genie, because there’s not an acne scar or spot of discoloured skin in sight. His eyelashes are long and dark. His eyebrows are sharp and thick and contrast the pretty, delicate features of his face nicely. 

He has a masculine kind of beauty that Yeonjun has never encountered before in real life. He dreads the day that it leaves him, and he knows that this is the face he’ll dream about for the rest of his life. These pretty eyelashes, these soft lips, these round cheeks.

Like he can sense himself being watched, Beomgyu eventually begins to stir. His eyes flutter open and meet Yeonjun’s right in front of them. He looks groggy and confused for a moment as he blinks them rapidly to gain his bearings, and when he recognises Yeonjun his lips curl up into a beautiful smile. 

“Hi,” he greets, voice thick with sleep. “Welcome home.”

Yeonjun almost melts. He clenches his fist tightly at his side to try and hold himself together. With the other hand, he trails his fingers down Beomgyu’s cheek, across his chin. Everything about Beomgyu is so gorgeous. If Yeonjun didn’t know what he really was, he’s certain that he’d think he was an angel; that this is the closest he’s ever going to get to God and Heaven when Beomgyu is sitting before him.

“Hi,” he whispers back. “I’m home. Miss me?”

Beomgyu’s face lights up with laughter. “I was asleep, Yeonjun.”

“So that means you didn’t miss me?” he grins, playful and sly, as he guides Beomgyu to sit up. He plops down beside him leaving no room in between. “How cruel, Beomgyu. It’s my birthday. I’m not going to make a wish now. I’m too hurt.”

“Don’t be a baby,” Beomgyu rolls his eyes. He leans towards Yeonjun enough so that he can rest his cheek against his shoulder. His heart simmered. “Tell me what you wish for, birthday boy. I’ll grant you anything.”

Yeonjun thinks. Really thinks. His heart hasn’t settled down since the moment he got into his apartment and saw Beomgyu laying there. Even before this, it hasn’t really settled for the better part of the last month. He’s lost almost all of his composure around Beomgyu already. Isn’t it okay to lose a little more?

“There’s something,” he starts, playing with his own fingers. “But. Like. You can say no.”

Beomgyu laughs against him. “That’s not really how it works. Are you asking me to consent to granting your wish?”

“Yes,” he juts his lower lip out. “Because it’s important to me, Beomgyu.”

“Okay,” the genie concedes. “Let me hear it first, then. What are you going to wish for?”

Yeonjun exhales deeply. His palms are clammy, so he wipes them off on his slacks. Just in case.

“I want,” he starts, slow and deliberate. His heart is in his throat. “A kiss.”

Beomgyu doesn’t say anything. As the seconds tick by, Yeonjun is starting to feel more and more like he’d fucked up. Of course the genie wouldn’t take kindly to Yeonjun engaging in a weird form of genie-human prostitution. Just before he can get off the couch and get down on his hands and knees to apologise, Beomgyu finally speaks.

“You don’t have to,” he says, and then something else so soft and intelligible Yeonjun has no clue. 

“What?” he asks stupidly. 

Beomgyu sighs and covers his face with a hand. “You don’t have to… waste a wish on that.”

Yeonjun blinks. He scratches the back of his neck, feeling rather awkward. “Oh. Okay. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t mean it like that,” Beomgyu is quick to defend. He scoots forward until he’s sitting on the very edge of his seat and turns to Yeonjun. The apples of his cheeks are glowing bright pink, and he’s struggling to look Yeonjun in the eyes. “I meant it like… like you don’t have to use your wish for it. You can just ask for it. Like a normal person.”

It takes a second for Yeonjun to digest the words and understand what he means. When he does, he can’t stop himself from smiling like an idiot. He tries to school his expression into something cooler, but to the core he’s just a bumbling fool who has very real romantic feelings for his genie, so it’s a major failure.

“But I want to use my wish for it,” he decides. “There’s nothing else I want.”

If Beomgyu’s cheeks could possibly get redder, they do. “Okay,” he whispers, inching closer. They’re already thigh to thigh. “Birthday boy. Your wish is my command.”

There’s a small hand on Yeonjun’s thigh. He realises it a second after the fact, like his reflexes have been put on cooldown. He meets Beomgyu in the middle. The first brush of their lips feels electric. 

A shudder runs through him and his fingers twitch. He doesn’t know if it’s a side-effect of kissing a genie, or just a side-effect of kissing someone he loves. 

Beomgyu’s lips are just as soft as he imagined. It’s a tentative, slow kiss— close to a peck, but a little more. The hand pressed against his upper thigh is searingly warm. Beomgyu always runs hot. 

Beomgyu is the first to pull back. Yeonjun has to resist the urge to chase him in favour of acting civilised. Their noses brush together and Beomgyu’s round, dark eyes flutter open. 

“Okay?” he breathes. “Was it okay?”

“Yeah,” Yeonjun whispers back. “The best. I’m glad I used my wish.”

“Okay,” Beomgyu repeats, smiling. He’s pink across his nose and to the tips of his ears. “I’m glad. Wish granted.”

They both go silent. Yeonjun doesn’t move. Beomgyu doesn’t move. The hand on his upper thigh doesn’t move. Seconds tick by and they just stare at each other, equally captivated and not so equally breathless.

“Do you want another?” Beomgyu finally asks in a small voice. “Not… not as a wish.”

He answers by cocking his head forward the small distance between them. Their lips meet again, and the second time washes over him like water. If his first kiss with Beomgyu was electric, this one is like wading through the ocean.

When he brushes his tongue against his lower lip, Beomgyu opens up for him with a gasp. His mind is so fuzzy and overwhelmed with the taste of him—sweet, a hint of coffee—that he can hardly make up a coherent thought. But, as he drags his tongue out in favour of pulling on Beomgyu’s lip with his teeth, he wonders how he’ll ever be able to get over this.

He pushes Beomgyu back against the arm of his sofa. The genie goes easily. He’s pliant and soft as Yeonjun hovers over the top of him, one leg between his, and devours. The inside of Beomgyu’s mouth is even warmer than the rest of him. Yeonjun could find home here easily. 

The flick of their tongues, the heat of hands that claw their way up his sides to hold onto him for dear life, the clumsy bumps of their noses. Everything about it is so good, so perfect that Yeonjun feels dizzy. 

He swipes his tongue over Beomgyu’s palate, and he swallows down the sound he makes— a raw, throaty whine. He wants to swallow everything, every last bit of Beomgyu, and keep him here forever.

He’s almost sitting on one of Beomgyu’s legs. His hands have a mind of their own. One of them settles on Beomgyu’s waist. It’s a narrow, lithe thing, and Yeonjun digs the pads of his fingers in possessively. 

His other hand finds his hair like usual. This time, instead of brushing his fingers through gently, Yeonjun grips onto the back of it like a vice. He tugs Beomgyu’s head back over the arm of the couch. It forces their kiss to break. A trail of saliva still connects them lip to lip. Yeonjun breaks it when he swipes his tongue across his lower lip, savouring the taste of something sweet on them.

Below him, Beomgyu is panting. His mouth is parted to suck in sharp shallow breaths, and the red of his face hasn’t ceased. His eyes are glazed over and out of focus. Everything about him looks inviting. He’s so beautiful it makes Yeonjun’s heart hurt. 

He lets go of his fistful of hair. He drops his head back down, this time letting his forehead land on Beomgyu’s shoulder. Beomgyu has both hands pressing against his sides and he slides them up slowly so he can wrap his arms around him.

“Everything about you is so perfect,” Yeonjun whispers. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you.”

He feels a nose brushing against the side of his head. Beomgyu inhales, and presses a butterfly kiss to his temple. “Keep using me.”

The choice of his words in that moment make Yeonjun’s head spin. He whines, pinching Beomgyu’s waist where his hand still lays. Beomgyu laughs half-breathless, and gives him another kiss.

“I mean the wishes,” he clarifies, though Yeonjun can’t get his mind to think about anything else. “You have one left, Yeonjun.”

“What if I don’t want to use it?” Yeonjun asks, daring. “What if I never use it, and I keep you here forever?”

“I would be happy,” Beomgyu admits, though he sounds anything but. Yeonjun peels his head off Beomgyu’s shoulder to stare down at him. “But you can’t do that, Yeonjun. I’m sorry. You have to use your wish.”

“Why?” he asks, searching Beomgyu’s face for an answer. The genie smiles at him, but it’s a sad sort of smile that leaves his eyes wide open and vulnerable.

“You just can’t,” he murmurs. He reaches up and brushes the back of his hand against Yeonjun’s cheek. “It’s okay. You still have time to think about it.”

But I don’t want to think about it, he thinks. He doesn’t say it. Instead, he tilts his head down and steals a chaste kiss. 

“Let’s go to bed,” he says with finality. Beomgyu nods, looking sorry, and the conversation is over. He detaches himself from the genie and stands, offering out his hand to help him up. 

♡

After that night, everything goes downhill.

Yeonjun can’t stop thinking about how unfair everything is. Why, of all people he could have fallen in love with for his twenty fourth birthday, did it have to be a genie?

Soobin could have been a normal friend. He could have been a normal friend and gotten Yeonjun a stripper. He could have fallen in love with them, and although it would have been hard (pun notwithstanding), he could have made it work. Yeonjun isn’t even that jealous of a guy. He wouldn’t have cared about the stripper thing.

But instead, Soobin had gotten him a genie. Soobin, he’d decided, was completely at fault. It wasn’t Beomgyu’s fault for being inhumanly pretty. It wasn’t Yeonjun’s fault for being weak to cute things. 

No, it was Soobin’s fault, and Yeonjun was going to spend the rest of his life making that his problem. 

He meets with Soobin next two weeks after his birthday. Yeonjun waits for him outside his place of employment on a rainy Saturday, and when he sees a familiar big head appearing on the sidewalk just after two in the afternoon, he pounces.

Quite literally. Yeonjun jumps on him, wraps an arm around his neck, and puts on a chokehold.

“ Hyung !” Soobin wheezes, desperately grasping at his side. A few onlookers stare at them in worry, but Yeonjun flashes them a dazzling smile and they hesitantly continue about their day. “Stop, you’re going to kill me.”

“That’s the point,” Yeonjun says, though he lets go of the hold regardless. Soobin jumps back two feet from him and catches his breath. He looks adequately dishevelled with his face bright red and hair sticking out in odd directions. Revenge is starting to feel great.

“What are you trying to kill me for this time?”

Yeonjun crosses his arms. He stares at Soobin who stares back at him blankly for a few seconds, before his expression lights up with understanding.

“Oh,” he says. “ Oh. That bad?”

“Worse than you think,” Yeonjun admits. He feels his murderous rage decreasing now that they’re talking about Beomgyu. It’s grossly cliche, but he supposes being in love does make you a better person. Sometimes. “We kissed.”

“You kissed ?” Soobin’s eyeballs get comically huge. “Wow, hyung. I can’t believe he agreed to kiss you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” he fires back, offended. “I’m a great person to kiss. Anyone could see that.”

Soobin gives him a look. Yeonjun chooses to ignore it because he’s in his good person arc. “Okay… well. That complicates things.”

“You think?” Yeonjun remarks dryly. “I’m screwed, Soobin. I really like him. I really fucking like him.”

“Hyung…” Soobin begins, starting to panic. He can see guilt flash behind his eyes. “You aren’t screwed. We can think of something. Don’t be pessimistic.”

“Really?” Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “That’s easy for you to say. You got the genie to help you get a boyfriend, Soobin. I fell in love with the genie. We are really not the same here. Don’t tell me not to be pessimistic. I’m gonna be pessimistic.

“Boyfriends,” Soobin corrects. “Plural.”

“Thank you for rubbing it in.”

“Hey!” the younger defends. “Look, I get that you’re mad, but we can think of something. I know we can think of something, hyung. Love always wins.”

Yeonjun looks very unimpressed. “Okay, wise guy. If you’re so sure about that, then tell me what you’ve got.”

Soobin’s face contorts in a very ugly manner as he thinks and thinks. Yeonjun doesn’t think he’s seen him think this much in his entire life. It melts through Yeonjun’s cold old heart and makes him want to forgive him.

Right before he can tell him to stop, that it’s fine and he’ll get over it, though, Soobin’s face brightens up.

His lips stretch out into a Cheshire-like grin. His eyes are sparkling with something mischievous. It’s the kind of look he always gets when he has a Great Idea. Usually, it’s in the context of gaming.

“Hyung,” he says, reaching out to grab him by the shoulder. “Hyung, listen. I’ve got it. I know what you need to wish for.”

♡

When Yeonjun gets home, Beomgyu is in his favourite spot. He’s eating from a bag of chips and he’s so engrossed in whatever he’s watching that he doesn’t look up at the sound of the door. 

Yeonjun toes off his shoes with determination. He marches inside with a little less determination, and by the time he’s in front of Beomgyu, almost all of his has been sapped out of him.

He rings his hands together nervously. 

Beomgyu finally looks up from the TV. 

“Oh,” he says, surprised. “Hi, Yeonjun. Welcome home.”

“Hello,” he greets back like a rock. “I’ve finally decided. I want to use my last wish.”

Yeonjun is expecting happiness. The first two times he’d used his wishes or even spoken about using them, that’s all he’d been met with. Unrivalled happiness and excitement from a genie who loves his job. 

This time, though, the expression on Beomgyu’s face makes his stomach drop.

He’s trying to hide a look of sadness behind a typical smile, but Yeonjun can see the way tears have immediately welled up along his lash line. He doesn’t meet Yeonjun’s eyes as he clears off his lap and sets aside his bag of chips.

His hand is even shaking. It makes Yeonjun’s heart clench terribly with the urge to scoop him up, hug him, and never let go.

“Okay,” Beomgyu whispers. He doesn’t sound like himself. “Okay, yeah. Yeah. I knew this was coming. Sorry, Yeonjun, just give me a second.”

Yeonjun stays quiet. Beomgyu brushes crumbs off his pants, and slowly stands up. He’s looking down at his socked feet.

“Before you do,” he whispers. “I want to say goodbye.”

Yeonjun almost feels like crying as arms wind around his waist. Beomgyu isn’t much shorter than him, but the half an inch between them now feels enormous as Beomgyu buries himself into Yeonjun’s chest, looking tiny. He wraps his arms around him in turn, and presses a long kiss to the top of his head.

Neither of them say anything or move until Beomgyu is satisfied. It takes a long time, but eventually he loosens his grips enough to take a half step back. He looks up at Yeonjun, eyes wide and gentle, and nods.

“Yeonjun,” he mumbles. “Tell me your wish.”

Finally, Yeonjun smiles. He brings his arms up from around Beomgyu’s middle and instead cups both of his cheeks. He tilts his head up and holds him there so that he can’t look away.

“I wish,” he starts, “that you weren’t a genie anymore. And that you’ll stay with me forever— at least, if you want to. You don’t have to include that part in the wish. That’s just me asking.”

Beomgyu blinks rapidly a few times. Yeonjun can see tears still collecting along his eyes, and then all at once Beomgyu is crying. Hot tears streak down his cheeks and he’s shaking in Yeonjun’s grip, but they aren’t tears of sadness; no, Beomgyu has begun to smile slowly but surely as Yeonjun watches him.

Yeonjun rubs his thumb across Beomgyu’s cheekbone, collecting tears. Beomgyu lets out a shaky laugh, and Yeonjun’s grin only widens. Beomgyu pushes him un-threateningly in the side.

“You’re so stupid, Yeonjun,” he says through his tears.

“But are you going to grant me my wish?”

Beomgyu sniffles. He’s not crying anymore, but his eyes are still red and glassy. He’s grinning warmly, and he leans up to brush their lips together. He tastes like salt and snot, but Yeonjun finds himself not minding.

“I don’t know if it’s allowed,” Beomgyu says, voice cheeky. “If you want me to break the rules, you’re going to have to convince me.”

Yeonjun arches an eyebrow and then grins, sly and knowing. He lets go of Beomgyu’s cheeks, trailing his hands down his neck and chest, until they’re back on his waist. It’s tiny in between his hands and he squeezes hard enough to draw out a soft gasp.

“I think that could be arranged.”

Beomgyu laughs again, brushing their lips together coyly. “Then your wish is my command, Yeonjun. And for the record? You don’t need to use a wish to get me to stay with you forever.”

♡

(Yeonjun doesn’t know the logistics of how it works, but a few hours later he’s laying in bed with a very human Beomgyu. Well, he knows the logistics of how that had worked, and he’s more than happy to report that Beomgyu runs just as warm inside as he does outside.

But the logistics of how he stopped being a genie? He’ll never know. It’s a trade secret, and Beomgyu isn’t as much of a big mouth as he is.

Nevertheless, Yeonjun has never felt this happy before. He nuzzles into the side of Beomgyu’s neck, peppering soft kisses over all of the marks he’d left behind.

“I still can’t believe Soobin gave you to me,” he says. Beomgyu is all giggly and smiley, laughing as Yeonjun blows cold air against teeth indents.

“He told me before he used his last wish that he’d be giving me to someone good-looking,” Beomgyu admits. Yeonjun stills, and then lifts his head up to stare down at Beomgyu.

Beomgyu stares back at him coyly.

“I’m glad I made the cut,” Yeonjun puckers his lips and waits for human Beomgyu to kiss him. Human Beomgyu does, twice, and then settles back down on the pillow.

“So am I. At first, I thought you were just as much of a loser as Soobin was. I’m glad you didn’t start wishing for me to make you appear wherever some boy was. It was really embarrassing for him.”

Yeonjun laughs. He bumps their noses together sweetly and really basks in the moment.

But then, a terrible thought comes over him.

“Oh my god,” he utters, eyes widening. “If Soobin woke you up… does that mean he saw you naked?”

Beomgyu hits him across the side of the head and then kisses it better. All is well.)