75 days || YeonGyu / BeomJun

seventy-five days with a dumb cop (I fell inlove with him)

It's pouring outside.

Not the gentle, romantic drizzle kind—but the thunder-crashing, wind-howling, trees-swaying kind of downpour that makes the whole sky feel like it's throwing a tantrum.

Inside the Choi household, Beomgyu is curled up on the couch under a mountain of blankets. His hair is a mess, his cheeks flushed pink with fever, and his nose is so red even Rudolph would file a copyright complaint.

Cue the banging on the door.

And then—more banging.

And then, a voice that could raise the dead:

"BEOMGYUUUU! OPEN UP! I KNOW YOU'RE DYING IN THERE!"

Beomgyu groans from under the blankets. "It's just a cold, you psychopath!"

Too late.

The door swings open dramatically, revealing Yeonjun, completely drenched from head to toe, holding a giant tote bag like he's a frontline medic and Beomgyu's his final mission.

He kicks off his shoes with flair, stomps into the living room, and dumps the tote contents onto the table like it's an emergency operating station.

"Inventory check!" Yeonjun declares. "Twelve soups. One plushie. A get-well card. A USB with a PowerPoint presentation on why you should stop being sick. And vitamin C gummies. They were expensive, so you better be grateful."

Beomgyu sniffles. "Did you seriously walk here? In the rain? Aren't you supposed to be on duty?"

Yeonjun kneels beside him, eyes full of frantic worry. "Well you weren't answering my texts! What if you died in your sleep?! Or choked on your own snot?! That would be such a lame way to go."

He pulls out the maltese plushie and shoves it into Beomgyu's arms. It's big and soft, with a heart on the stomach.

"This is you," Yeonjun says proudly. "But less grumpy. I named him Bamgeut. Maybe we can name our future baby that too."

Beomgyu stares at the bear. Then at him. Then back at the maltese.

"You're so annoying," he croaks.

But he hugs it anyway.

Yeonjun beams, reaching out to gently brush Beomgyu's messy bangs aside and tuck them behind his ear.

"You're lucky you're cute even when your face is leaking."

Beomgyu glares. "Shut up."

Yeonjun sits on the edge of the couch, watching him in silence for a few moments. Then, softer:

"You better get well soon. We still have a lifetime left to annoy each other. And eleven kids to adopt. One of them is definitely getting named Croissant."

Beomgyu groans. "I told you I'm not having eleven kids—"

From the kitchen, Toto the parrot shrieks: "DUMBASS!"

Both of them freeze.

They turn slowly toward the kitchen.

Yeonjun shakes his head fondly, then leans down and presses a soft kiss to Beomgyu's feverish forehead. "You're the cutest dumbass I've ever fallen in love with."

Beomgyu doesn't respond, but his cheeks turn violently red as he hides behind the bear.

A few minutes later, he falls asleep curled into Yeonjun's lap, Bamgeut still clutched tightly in his arms.

Yeonjun strokes his hair gently and leans down to whisper to the bear, "Bamgeut, you better protect him when I'm not around, okay?"