Hong noticed them the first week.

Not the way fans notice things — not like a detail to memorize for interviews or a cute habit to tease him about on livestream. No. Hong noticed them the way sailors must have once noticed stars — quietly, reverently, as something to guide himself by.

Four moles.

Scattered across Nut’s face like a private constellation.

They looked like stars.

Hong tried not to stare at first.

They were in the practice room, sweat-slicked and exhausted, mirrors fogged from their breathing. Nut was laughing at something Tui had said, head thrown back slightly, throat exposed, and Hong found himself counting.

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

His chest tightened.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Nut asked later, when the others had left and only the hum of the air conditioner remained.

Hong blinked, caught.

“Like what?”

“Like you’re solving a math problem on my face.”

Hong flushed. “You have four.”

“Four what?”

He hesitated. He could have lied. Could have said nothing.

But it felt impossible to lie when it came to Nut.

“Moles,” Hong said softly. “Four of them.”

Nut stilled.

Then he laughed — soft, surprised. “You counted?”

Hong stepped closer without thinking. The mirrors behind them reflected two figures moving into each other’s orbit.

“They look like stars,” Hong admitted.

The teasing expression on Nut’s face faded into something quieter.

“Stars?” he repeated.

Hong nodded, lifting his hand hesitantly. “Can I?”

Nut didn’t answer with words. He just tilted his face closer.

Hong’s fingers hovered near the first mole — the one above Nut’s left eye, near the nose. He traced just beside it, not quite touching.

“This one,” Hong whispered, “feels like the start of everything.”

Nut’s breath shifted, subtle but noticeable.

Hong’s finger moved down to the second — beneath the left eye, further toward the side. He brushed the skin lightly.

“And this one,” he murmured, “is softer. Like it doesn’t want attention.”

Nut swallowed. “You’re insane.”

Hong smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

He shifted to the third — beneath the right eye. His thumb grazed it gently.

“This balances the others,” Hong said. “If this one wasn’t here, the sky would feel uneven.”

Nut’s hands slowly found Hong’s waist, as if anchoring himself.

“And the last one?” Nut asked, voice lower now.

Hong’s eyes dropped.

The mole below Nut’s nose, on the right side.

It was so close to his mouth.

Hong hesitated before reaching up, his fingertip barely tracing the air beside it.

“This one,” he whispered, “is my favorite.”

Nut’s grip tightened. “Why?”

“Because it’s too close to your lips.”

Silence.

Hong leaned in slightly, his forehead nearly touching Nut’s.

“It feels like it belongs to me,” he confessed.

The words hung there.

Nut’s grip tightened, not painfully — just enough to say don’t take it back.

“And the others?” Nut asked softly.

Hong smiled, eyes warm, almost shy.

“They’re the sky,” he said. “But this one is my secret star.”

Something shifted in Nut’s expression then — something tender, something vulnerable. He lifted his hand and cupped Hong’s cheek.

“You’re strange,” Nut murmured.

“I know.”

“But you make me feel…” Nut trailed off.

Hong waited.

“Seen.”

That word settled into Hong’s bones.

Seen.

He lowered his gaze for a moment, overwhelmed. Then he looked back up, eyes shining.

“I could find you in the dark,” Hong said. “Even if the lights were off. Even if the whole world disappeared. I’d just follow your stars.”

Nut’s breath grew uneven.

“You’re obsessed,” he whispered.

“Yes.”

The honesty of it made Nut laugh softly — but there was no mockery in it. Only affection.

Hong leaned forward and, without breaking eye contact, pressed the gentlest kiss beneath Nut’s left eye.

Then beneath the right eye.

Nut’s hands slid up Hong’s back now, fingers curling into fabric.

Hong lingered before the last one.

The one below the nose.

So close.

He looked up once — giving Nut time to stop him.

Nut didn’t.

Hong leaned in and kissed just beside it, barely a brush, but close enough that Nut’s breath faltered against his lips.

And maybe they were just four tiny marks on skin. But to Hong, they were coordinates. And he had already decided — he would spend his whole life learning the sky of Nuts face by heart.

Comments