but it brought me heaven

by foreshadows

Chapter 2: one single thread of gold tied me to you

Sunghoon woke up on Christmas Day to Heeseung hovering over him, their faces dangerously close. He blinked slowly. It was too early to be surprised. “Good morning,” was all he said, voice low and hoarse from sleep. His best friend immediately scrambled back to put some space between them, and Sunghoon sighed inwardly. Shame. He’d been enjoying the proximity.

“Hey,” Heeseung muttered, his ears pink. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas,” Sunghoon smiled, sitting up and stretching. “What time is it?”

“It’s like, nine.”

“You? Voluntarily up before noon?” Sunghoon quirked an eyebrow, swinging his legs off the bed and padding into the bathroom. “Where’s the fire? Has Doomsday finally arrived?”

“Saying this on Jesus’ birthday should put you on some sort of shortlist to hell,” Heeseung grumbled, following Sunghoon and leaning against the doorframe, watching Sunghoon grin around the toothbrush in his mouth. “Next time you go to church, don’t bring me with you. I don’t want God to think I associate with your blasphemous ass.”

“I’ll make sure to include you in all my prayers so God knows exactly how much you associate with me,” Sunghoon said. The words were warbled and unintelligible through his brushing, but Heeseung understood him loud and clear as always. His best friend rolled his eyes so hard that Sunghoon only saw their whites for a good five seconds.

“Damning me and wasting all the time I’ve spent living a sin-free life. I need better friends,” Heeseung sniffed.

“Oh please, I’m the best thing you’ve got and you know it,” Sunghoon snorted with more confidence than he felt. “Plus, you should know by now I’d bring you with me wherever I go. Nothing as simple as death or heaven and hell could stop me.” Theatrical in his teasing, maybe; but it wasn’t untrue. There wasn’t a force in this universe that was strong enough to pry him away from Heeseung. 

Heeseung paused for half a second, then heaved a dramatic sigh. “This is the kind of talk people used to get exorcized for. You would’ve caught such a case in Salem.”

“You would’ve rescued me from the gallows.”

“I would’ve begged them to kill me so I wouldn’t have to hear you speak anymore.”

Sunghoon bent to wash his mouth and face, and when he resurfaced, he shot Heeseung a smug glance in the mirror, “All I’m hearing is that you would’ve died to be with me too. Admit it, you can’t live without me.”

“Whatever, loser,” Heeseung muttered, rolling his eyes again, but the pink of his ears deepened to scarlet. Sunghoon felt a ridiculous rush of triumph. He butted his head into Heeseung’s shoulder, smiling when his best friend yelped from the water that dripped off the ends of Sunghoon’s hair and onto his shirt. Heeseung flung Sunghoon’s towel into his face, pretending to scowl, “Happy Christmas to me. This year, my present from my best friend is assault and the threat of eternal hellfire.”

“At least we’ll be in the pit together,” Sunghoon hummed, patting his face dry. “No one I’d rather serve Satan with.”

“I really hope you don’t plan on stepping into a house of God anytime soon. He’ll strike you down where you stand, the way you keep talking.”

“When did you get so devout? I thought the most Christian person I knew was Jaeyun.”

“Was he devout? I assumed he just thought that the youth pastor who came down from Vancouver was hot.”

“He was at the chapel almost every day. Mark was only there on Sundays,” Sunghoon said dryly.

“Right.” Sunghoon turned and leaned against the sink to look at Heeseung properly; the other boy was tense, the way he usually was when Jongseong or Jaeyun’s names came up in conversation. “Anyway, today is a Christian holiday. Wouldn’t hurt to suck up to Jesus a little more than usual.”

“Because we have so much to atone for?” Sunghoon drawled. Honestly, he wasn’t religious enough for such conversation anymore. God had spent too long in hiding from him, nestling in faraway desert dunes and vacating the voids Sunghoon ventured into. To him, God was a silent sea he’d waded into waist-deep. God was the long wait, a shapeless tide that stirred around the outskirts of his reach, but stayed like a disease in his fever-ridden dreams. The only thing Sunghoon’s faith incubated now was the certainty of Heeseung’s love. 

“Maybe you do,” Heeseung shot back. He slouched against the door, relaxed, “I’ve never been anything but perfectly holy and well-behaved.”

“Do I need to remind you of all the trouble you used to cause? Your mother was convinced you were gonna end up in juvie by 14.”

“I don’t remember that so it never happened,” Heeseung declared. “Speaking of my mother, I think I’ll go back to my place today after breakfast. She wants some help setting everything up for tonight. A whole bunch of our relatives are coming over this year.”

“Oh yeah, okay.” He had something to do anyway, that he didn’t want Heeseung to know about quite yet. This gave him a window of time. Sunghoon peered at his best friend closely. “How do you feel about that, by the way? I know some of your aunts and uncles are… testy.”

“Understatement of the year,” Heeseung sighed.

“You’re right. They’re fucking bitches, every last one of them.”

“Hey,” Heeseung scolded half-heartedly, nudging Sunghoon in the arm. “They’re not that bad, they just ask a lot of questions.”

“They’re invasive and judgemental, you mean,” Sunghoon corrected, feeling a spike of irritation. Heeseung as a child had been boisterous and laid-back, and the only thing he’d taken seriously at all was his friendship with Sunghoon. It had invited the older set of his extended family to pass a lot of cruelly dismissive remarks about him, even after he’d grown up and softened into a much more thoughtful and gentle version of himself. Sunghoon had to be pulled away from descending into heated shouting matches with them on more than one occasion. “Why do your parents still allow them to come around? They’re awful to you.”

“They’re family,” Heeseung shrugged, as if it didn’t matter. Sunghoon knew it did. “It’s okay, it’s Christmas.”

“If one of them even looks at you funny, I won’t let you hold me back again,” Sunghoon vowed. “Tell your mom to keep them under control this time, or you’ll be seeing me on the news.”

“Calm down,” Heeseung smiled. “No need to go all vigilante killer, I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“It better be,” Sunghoon grumbled. He wasn’t joking. He didn’t have the patience this year to put up with any disparaging comments about Heeseung. “Mom and I should make a little more food to bring over later then, I suppose. I didn’t know there were going to be more than eleven people tonight.”

Heeseung was quiet for a second. “Do you…” he hesitated. “Do you still need me here?”

Sunghoon laughed. “What kind of question is that? I’ll always need you.”

“I meant—to be a buffer between you and your parents. It seems like you’ve got it all sorted out, which I’m really happy about, of course. I was just wondering if you’d prefer I sleep at my own house tonight, or if you—”

“Hee,” Sunghoon sighed, stepping closer. “Even if I don’t need you to stay, I want you to.” What a paltry pronouncement. Sunghoon had gone to sleep and woken up wanting. All he did was want and want what was on the other side of want. It’d become a sky to swallow, an impossible ravine to cross. A raging river that had swept Heeseung up into its current, and yet Sunghoon was the one drowning. “I want you here. Okay?”

Heeseung swallowed, “Okay.”

“Good. So you’ll stay with me?”

“Yeah,” Heeseung’s smile was slow and golden. The sun had long risen, but he was the one who illuminated the world. Sunghoon could hardly breathe. “I’ll stay.”

✵✵

“If you start a fight tonight, I’m grounding you,” Sunghoon’s mother warned as they walked up the driveway to the Lees’ front door.

“You can’t ground me, I live half an hour away 360 days of the year,” Sunghoon muttered. His father only gave him a look that seemed to suggest Sunghoon’s naivete was amusing.

“Don’t underestimate me,” his mom announced. “I’ll find a way. Please behave.”

“I’m twenty years old, I don’t need to be told to behave,” Sunghoon protested, adjusting the crockpot in his arms. “Besides, it’s not my fault if they’re the ones who start insulting Heeseung. All I’m saying is actions have consequences.”

“Don’t try to decide the consequences for anyone,” his mom admonished. “They’re still your elders and you have to treat them with respect.”

“Fine, fine.” Sunghoon reluctantly subsided as they reached the threshold, his father knocking on the door. Heeseung’s mother answered it, throwing the door wide open, and a cacophony of sound spilled forth: a brassy bossa nova record playing from a corner, the lower tones of speaking adults and the airy giggles of children blending into one dizzying, warm kaleidoscope.

“Ah, Dongmin, Jeonghwa,” Auntie Heejin broke into a wide smile, and Sunghoon gave her one of his own. “Sunghoon, darling. So glad you could make it, come in! What’s this you’re holding?”

“Oh, we didn’t want to come empty-handed, so I made gopdoritang and some poached pears for dessert,” Sunghoon’s mom lifted the lid off her pot to let the fragrance of vanilla and sugared wine waft out. Auntie Heejin gasped, eyes shining.

“Jeonghwa, you didn’t have to! We’re more than happy to have you guys over, you know that. But thank you,” she ushered them into the house. “Just set these down in the kitchen and go join the others while I finish up the casserole.”

“I’ll help you,” Sunghoon’s mom offered, to Auntie Heejin’s vehement objections. Sunghoon left his mother’s gopdoritang on the kitchen counter and let the two women engage in their usual back-and-forth on propriety and guest etiquette, shaking his head. Some things really never did change. He wandered through the house, looking for Heeseung, shedding his coat as he went. He found his best friend easily, sprawled on the living room floor with his niece and nephew, smiling serenely as he let them climb all over him.

In the momentary pause Sunghoon took to watch him, Heeseung’s brother sidled up to him, beer in hand. “Sunghoon,” he greeted brightly.

“Heedo hyung,” Sunghoon nodded in acknowledgement. Heeseung’s brother was a full decade older than them, but sometimes he seemed younger, with the perennial grin on his face and the mirthful sparkle in his eye. “Merry Christmas. Long time no see.”

“Long time no see,” Heedo agreed. “I thought Heeseungie was keeping you hostage in a windowless basement somewhere. He’s refused to bring you around for the longest time.”

“Ah, well.” Heat flooded into Sunghoon’s cheeks. “That’s mainly my fault, Heeseung isn’t holding me hostage at all.”

“Sick of us, are you?” Heedo’s eyes crinkled.

“No, of course not,” Sunghoon immediately denied. “Things at home were just a little tense for a bit, but it’s blown over. I’ll be back a lot more often now.”

“I see. That’s good,” Heedo hummed. “Come and visit us when you’re in town then, Heeseung or not. I need more than one babysitter for the kids.”

“They’ve grown up well,” Sunghoon remarked, glancing over at Heedo’s bickering children. They certainly were a lot bigger than they’d been the last time Sunghoon had seen them. So much time had slipped away without him even noticing. “Giving you trouble?”

“More than I can handle,” Heedo laughed, raising his beer bottle. “That’s why the holidays are for drinking and dumping them onto my baby brother. Why don’t you go and join in on the fun?” He pointed the bottle semi-menacingly at Sunghoon, “Don’t distract my brother too much, though. Can’t have the little demons running back to me.”

“I won’t distract him,” Sunghoon mumbled, feeling the ridiculous urge to hide behind his hands and kick his feet. What was this, high school? “He’ll barely notice I’m there. He adores the kids.”

“Heeseung? Not notice you?” Heedo shook his head. “So you guys are still playing that game, huh? Alright then.”

“What? What game? There’s no game.”

“If you don’t know, I’m not gonna be the one to give you all the answers,” Heedo’s eyes gleamed. “Just give yourself some credit. You don’t know Heeseung when he’s not around you.” Before Sunghoon could demand to know what the hell that meant, Heedo was meandering off, calling behind him, “If either of the kids so much as says the word ‘Dad’, I’m foisting them onto the two of you until New Year’s!”

Sunghoon blinked. Was Heedo already drunk? He shifted his gaze over to Heeseung, who’d sat up, head bent over something his niece wasn’t showing him as much as she was shoving it into his face. Heeseung patted her head, his tender expression a slow stake through Sunghoon’s heart, simultaneously a salvation and a crucifixion. Oh, the inertia. It called to him again, gravitational.

At that very moment, Heeseung looked up — Polaris, a compass star. He caught Sunghoon’s eye and visibly brightened, gesturing for him to come over. Sunghoon’s chest ached as he obeyed, hiding his trembling hands behind his back as he crossed the room and settled down next to his best friend. “You’re here,” Heeseung said cheerily. “Haein, Hayoon, do you remember Uncle Hoon?”

Haein nodded, but Hayoon only stared up at Sunghoon in clear puzzlement, which was to be expected. The last time Sunghoon had seen him, he’d barely been two years old. “Uncle Hoon?” the little boy asked, testing out Sunghoon’s name like it was something he was tasting for the first time.

“That’s right. He’s my very best friend,” Heeseung explained, and Sunghoon’s pulse fluttered, growing wings that rustled under his skin, in his stomach, up his throat. He couldn’t help but wish that Heeseung had introduced him as something else instead, someone who was more than a best friend. But that wasn’t fair. He plastered on his most convincing smile, holding a hand out for Hayoon.

“Nice to meet you, Hayoon. Your Uncle Hee has told me lots of good things about you.” The boy lit up and wrapped his small hand around Sunghoon’s thumb, shaking it up and down. Sunghoon felt the cold block behind his sternum melt, his smile broadening into something a lot more genuine.

“Really? Like what?” Hayoon chirped, eyes glimmering.

Before Sunghoon could reply, Haein interjected, “But not more than he talks about me, right? Uncle Hee likes me more, he said so!” she huffed. Ah, so she was at that age where everything with her sibling became a competition. Sunghoon decided to sit back and enjoy the show when Heeseung’s expression morphed with alarm.

“I love both of you equally,” he assured, stroking their heads when Hayoon pouted. “Haein, be nice to your brother. I don’t have favourites.”

“But it’s not true,” she insisted, and Sunghoon’s amusement only grew. “Mommy told me people have favourites, like how my favourite colour is red and my favourite food is hwachae. So you have to have a favourite person.” She rounded on Sunghoon, fixing her very large, determined eyes on him. “Right, Uncle Hoon?”

“Right,” he played along, ignoring Heeseung’s look of betrayal. He was just gunning for the result that made his best friend suffer the most. “My favourite person is your Uncle Hee.”

“Yeah, see!” Haein exclaimed, turning back to Heeseung, whose face was steadily transforming a deep rosy hue. He ducked his head and gathered Hayoon into him, his hands spanning the entire width of the little boy’s back.

“Haein,” he mumbled, hair falling into his eyes. Hayoon scrambled further into his embrace, hanging off Heeseung’s neck and glaring at his sister. “Um…”

Haein, refusing to be beaten out by a disparity in physical proximity, climbed into Heeseung’s lap too, situating herself with a scowl. “Hayoon, go get your own favourite uncle! Uncle Hee is mine!” Sunghoon stifled a laugh behind his hand. Six years old and already objectifying men: he adored this little girl.

“Haein,” Heeseung said again, sighing. He wrapped one arm around his niece, wincing when Hayoon wailed right into his ear. “I love you both. You can share, okay?” Sunghoon probably should’ve been a good person and helped his best friend out, but all he did was pull his instant film camera out of his pocket and snap a picture of Heeseung’s dismayed face as two children bickered over who got to cling to him.

“Did you just take a photo of this?” Heeseung asked him incredulously over the kids’ arguing. “This is funny to you?”

“Absolutely,” Sunghoon replied, and took another picture. “This is comedy at its finest.”

“I have three kids today,” Heeseung complained, as Haein finally succeeded in yanking her brother’s arms off Heeseung. Hayoon yelped and flailed, his hands smacking Heeseung in the face. Heeseung spluttered, and Sunghoon threw his head back with a loud laugh.

“Oh sure, laugh it up, Chuckles,” Heeseung grumbled, making Sunghoon descend into another fit of giggles. Heeseung released the kids to let them tussle on the carpet, rubbing the tender spot on his jaw. “One day, it’ll be your turn.”

“To get beat up by a four-year-old?” Sunghoon asked, grinning. “I don’t think so.”

“You’re actually terrible, you know that? Is this the real definition of keeping your friends close but your enemies closer?”

“Yep,” Sunghoon flashed him a beatific smile.

“You suck,” Heeseung deadpanned, before turning to his niece and nephew. “Haein, Hayoon, be nice to each other or Santa won’t give you any presents this year.”

Hayoon’s face fell, but Haein stubbornly shook her head, “My Daddy will tell Santa to give me my presents!”

“I’ll tell your Dad that you’re misbehaving too,” Heeseung warned. “Let go of your brother.” Haein sulked but released Hayoon from her grip. The little boy immediately rolled away and ran back to his toys, no longer interested in fighting his sister for Heeseung’s attention. Haein, however, took the opportunity to primly sit by Heeseung’s side.

“So, Uncle Hee, who’s your favourite person?” Sunghoon dug his teeth into his bottom lip to fight another smile. She has never taken ‘no’ for an answer, has she? he wondered internally as he tucked his developing films into his back pocket. Curious little demon. Persistent, too.

“I don’t have one,” Heeseung said, but his voice was thin the way it always was when he was lying. Haein squinted up at him.

“Uncle Hoon said his favourite person is you,” she pressed. “Is he your favourite person?”

“Well…”

“I won’t be sad if it is,” she promised solemnly. “My favourite person in the world is Peppa Pig!”

“Sweetie, I don’t think that’s a person,” Sunghoon said dubiously.

“Mommy said my favourite person can be anyone,” Haein sniffed.

Sunghoon opened his mouth to argue that an ugly cartoon pig was probably not what Haein’s mother had in mind when she said ‘anyone’, but Heeseung spoke first. “Yeah, I suppose my favourite person is Sunghoon,” he said slowly. Sunghoon’s head snapped around to turn his gaze onto his best friend, but Heeseung was refusing to meet his eyes, picking at the plush carpet instead.

“I knew it,” Haein crowed triumphantly. “What do you like about Uncle Hoon?”

“Is your dad putting you up to this?” Heeseung muttered.

Haein blinked. “What did my dad put up?”

“Nothing, never mind. I don’t know, sweet pea. Uncle Hoon and I have been best friends for a really long time. Since we were Hayoon’s age.”

“That is long,” she agreed. “You’re old now, right?” Sunghoon took personal offence to that. Just because they were older than Peppa fucking Pig… “That’s like, forever. Are all friends forever?”

“Not really,” Heeseung rubbed the back of his neck. “Most people aren’t like me and Uncle Hoon. We’re special, and we’ve stayed friends for this long because we like each other very much.” Sunghoon swallowed dryly. If only Heeseung knew just how much he liked him.

“Oh, okay.” Haein nodded. “What do you like about each other?”

“I, uh—” Heeseung fumbled. “I like his face,” he offered feebly. Sunghoon hid a grin at Heeseung’s floundering. He was unbearably cute.

“His face?” Haein wrinkled her nose. “Why? What do you like about it?”

“Um, just… it’s a nice face,” Heeseung said, clearly at a loss for words. Sunghoon flushed, ducking his head to will away the heat creeping up his neck.

“Uncle Hee,” the little girl wheedled. “That can’t be the only thing! Tell me more.” She poked Heeseung in the leg, a determined look on her tiny face.

“Well…” Heeseung glanced over at Sunghoon for help. Sunghoon only quirked a single eyebrow at his best friend, wordlessly saying: go on. He’d never been one to pass up on compliments. “Okay, okay,” Heeseung relented, crumbling easily as always. “Do you see how Uncle Hoon is smiling?” Haein nodded, turning her large eyes up to him. Sunghoon smiled wider, patting her head. “His smile is pretty, right? He always smiles with one side of his mouth first before the other follows. His eyes crinkle and his nose scrunches and his dimple pops out. It’s like—the epicentre of a ripple. You can see the exact second it moves outwards and stirs the rest of the pond, and you can see when it pours into everything else and makes it better. Makes it beautiful.” Heeseung wasn’t looking at his niece anymore; his eyes were dark with intent as they stared into Sunghoon’s soul.

Sunghoon couldn’t breathe. His smile slipped off his face, “Heeseung, I—”

“I like how I can draw a map of your beauty marks with my eyes closed. I like how you pout when you’re tired and trying to concentrate but your attention keeps fracturing. I like how your mouth twitches when you’re holding back a laugh and how it twists when you’re thinking of how to lie. I like how your eyes go blank when you zone out in the mornings and how they shine when you finally get a grasp on something you’ve been trying to understand. I…” Heeseung faltered, and Sunghoon was suddenly conscious of the fact that every eye in the house had turned to them. “Yeah. I like your face, I guess,” he finished lamely. Before Sunghoon could reply, he shot up and dashed out of the room, the tips of his ears a telltale scarlet.

“Whoa,” Haein broke the long silence left in his wake. “Uncle Hoon, do you like Uncle Hee’s face this much too?”

“Yes,” Sunghoon croaked, still catching his breath. His heart was in his throat, writhing and reaching out for Heeseung. “I like everything about your Uncle Hee.”

“Is it like how Daddy likes Mommy?” she chirped innocently. A tittering chorus of low laughs echoed from the dining room.

“Yes,” Sunghoon said again, standing up to follow his best friend. “Just like how your Daddy likes Mommy.”

✵✵

Sunghoon only barely managed to coax Heeseung back in for dinner. He’d found the other boy in his old bedroom, squatting in the shadows.

“Hoon,” he scrambled upright when Sunghoon popped his head in. Sunghoon slipped into the room, quietly eyeing Heeseung’s old speed skating trophies lining the shelves, collecting dust. A springtime meadow wilting from drought, sheltered from the sun. An ultraviolet neglect. “I’m sorry about, um, whatever that was.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Sunghoon chided softly. He was the one who should’ve been sorry. Heeseung shuffled his feet, shrugging helplessly.

“I know it was a lot. It didn’t—I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” The moonlight cutting in through the windows spilled over the floor like a silver river, a lazy ribbon rowing along until it collided into the corners even the sable-skinned night wouldn’t occupy. Still, Heeseung was the brightest thing this room had to offer, bigger than a supernova. The stars had fallen to his feet, had halted in their dying — left cosmos and comets to partake in this unearthly paradigm. Such an empire, such a meteoric moment in time. It was almost too mythical, too sweet for Sunghoon to survive.  

His breath left him in a gust. He walked over to take Heeseung’s hand and lace their fingers together, needing the touch, needing the proof of the miracle that resided there. “Don’t be ridiculous, none of it was embarrassing. I didn’t mind.” Another enormous understatement. Sunghoon was good at those. “It’s nice that you think I’m pretty.”

“Oh my God, shut up,” Heeseung muttered. “Really, you didn’t..? Even though my family was probably laughing at us?”

“Your family is wicked,” Sunghoon replied flatly. “I never asked for their opinion, so they can go and shove it back up their asses. I really don’t care what they or anyone else thinks.”

Heeseung smiled faintly, “You’re still not allowed to start any fights tonight.”

“You and my mom are the same,” Sunghoon complained. “I won’t start anything if they don’t.”

Heeseung sighed, swinging their intertwined hands, “Promise?”

“I promise,” Sunghoon had said. Famous last words. Now he was regretting asking Heeseung to come back at all. They should’ve made a break for it while they could and stolen off into the twilight. Now, he was angrily spooning food onto their plates while one of Heeseung’s terrible aunts treated dinner like an interrogation.

“So, Heeseung, still no girlfriend, I can safely presume,” she said, then chuckled like she’d just dropped the best bit of comedy the world had ever seen. Sunghoon nearly flung the serving spoon at her. He was only stopped by Heeseung’s placating hand on his thigh.

“No,” Heeseung said evenly. “No girlfriend.”

“Ah well. Can’t expect everyone to be as ready to settle down as Heedo was at your age,” she hummed. Sunghoon wanted to cut her tongue out. He’d be doing everybody a favour. Across the table, Heedo’s lip curled with distaste, and he took another swig of beer. “How’s school, then?” she continued.

“School’s fine,” Heeseung replied stiffly. “I like my major.”

“Hm. Heejin tells me that you’re majoring in—what was it again? Oh yes, human resorts something.”

“Human resource management,” Sunghoon corrected coldly. She waved him away, and Sunghoon grinded his teeth together so loudly he was surprised she didn’t hear it. Or maybe she did and she just didn’t care. That was most likely. It only made his blood boil even hotter.

“Right, that. Are you sure that’s how you want to apply yourself?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sunghoon seethed. His mom shot him a quelling look, but he ignored her. He only cared about the fact that Heeseung had gone rigid next to him, except for the fingers that circled Sunghoon’s wrist, a call for comfort from their childhood.

Heeseung’s aunt shrugged. “It’s just a question. I only think Heeseung could benefit from studying something less… demanding, maybe. Or something more in demand.”

“Every company in the world has a human resources department. Maybe you’d know that if you’ve ever worked in one,” Sunghoon shot back. About twenty jaws dropped around the table. “And Heeseung is doing great in school. His grades are perfect.”

“Look, Sunghoon. I know you think my worry is unnecessary, but I only want what’s best for our maknae,” she gestured at Heeseung. “I’m just blunt.”

Sunghoon was sure Heeseung could feel the furious, punishing pace his pulse was driving through his fingertips. “No, you came to a conclusion in your head 15 years ago and you can’t let go of it because you’re too convinced that you’re always right. And saying you’re blunt is just an excuse for you to say whatever you want to people without thinking of the consequences. But brutality and honesty aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to, boy,” she frowned disapprovingly. “You’ve been in America for far too long if you think you can speak to your elders this way. Who raised you? Back in my day—”

“Back in your day, your parents would’ve thrown you down five flights of stairs and out onto the streets. Yeah, I got it,” Sunghoon snapped. “I’m sorry that my parents won’t do the same.” Or maybe they would, after this. They looked positively aghast at the moment. But that wasn’t anywhere near his list of priorities right now. “You can’t condescend Heeseung every time you see him. That’s not wanting the best for him.”

“Heeseung is a big boy. He can understand where I’m coming from, I’m only concerned he doesn’t know what he wants—”

“Heeseung is not the person you’ve made him out to be,” Sunghoon bit out, “which you’d see if you just opened your eyes instead of trying to look for a kid that grew up a long time ago. Heeseung can also speak for himself.” He glanced at his best friend, who seemed stunned and more than a little pale. “Hee?”

“I, um…” Heeseung cleared his throat, fixing his eyes on a point behind his aunt’s shoulder. “I appreciate the concern, gomo, but I assure you, I know what I want.”

“Heeseung, don’t let your friend sway you.”

Heeseung spoke again before Sunghoon could tear her a new mouth that would be more useful. “I’ve known what I wanted for a long time, actually. I think you just don’t want to hear the things I have to say.”

His aunt drew in a sharp breath, an angry flush spreading down her neck and over her chest. Sunghoon watched in part disdain, part satisfaction. Heeseung had always been the best at championing what was best for other people, but not so much for himself, which meant Sunghoon had fought most of his battles for him when they were growing up. He hadn’t minded one bit, of course, he’d even derived some enjoyment from it — but it was good to see his best friend stand up for himself.

“Heejin, Hyunjun,” she whirled to address Heeseung’s parents. “Are you going to let them talk to me this way?”

“Enough, noona,” Heeseung’s father rumbled, frowning. “You’ve said your piece, they’ve said theirs. Let’s just eat.”

“Can’t even discipline a couple of children,” she grumbled, stabbing a piece of meat with her fork. “It’s no wonder your son has gone so astray. Hardly a surprise.”

“Now what do you mean by that, again?” Sunghoon demanded. Seriously, did this old bat never tire of being miserable and bitter? How many new ones did Sunghoon have to rip her? Was no one going to volunteer to tape her mouth shut?

“Well, you’re the reason Heeseung doesn’t have a girlfriend, aren’t you? We all know about Heeseung’s… preferences.” She wrinkled her nose, and Sunghoon saw red.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he growled, once again ignoring his mother’s appalled gasp. “You think you’re owed a say in Heeseung’s private life?”

“I rather think that’s you,” she said breezily. “You hang off my nephew like some sort of parasitic leech, you haven’t let him breathe anywhere without you for—”

“That’s it.” Heeseung’s chair screeched against the floor as he abruptly stood, and his vice-like hold on Sunghoon’s wrist took Sunghoon up with him. The glare he leveled on his aunt was venomous. “Say whatever you want about me, but leave Sunghoon out of it.”

“Oh, my dear,” she sighed. “We’ve allowed this to go on for far too long now. This childhood infatuation—or preoccupation, whatever you want to call it, has passed its expiry date. It’s time to look for grown-up relationships, in the real world, with an adult. Find a nice girl who’s devoted to God and will give you a family.”

“So this is about me being gay,” Heeseung said flatly. “Frankly, I don’t give a shit what you think about my sexuality, it’s none of your business. And you haven’t allowed anything with Sunghoon, I’m the one who chooses him. I chose him when we were kids and I choose him now. I choose him every single day, and I’d choose him over you and some prospect of a wife and kids a thousand times over. A million, even. Full offence intended.”

Sunghoon suddenly wished he was still sitting down, because his knees were suddenly too weak to support his weight. His head was a swimming symphony of muffled sound. His throat was stuck simultaneously with too many words and no words at all. Everyone at the table was gaping at them, and Sunghoon vaguely noted Haein tugging on her father’s sleeve and leaning up to whisper in his ear. Jesus fucking Christ. 

Heeseung’s aunt was turning an astonishing shade of purple. “Hyunjun, did you hear what your son just—”

“We’re leaving,” Heeseung announced, and then he was hauling Sunghoon away from the dinner table, away from the livid exclamations rising through the room. He marched them through the house, and Sunghoon only had the presence of mind to grab his coat from the rack by the front door before they were tumbling out into the crisp December air, slamming the door shut behind them.

“Where are we going now?” Sunghoon asked dumbly, still reeling, his insides still illuminated by a grotesque glow. Peripherally, he registered that Heeseung’s fingers had moved from his wrist to the spaces between his, irrevocably tangled again. His heart beat wilder, a migration of monarch butterflies, desire curling in his veins like a basilisk poison. Now is not the time to be lit up with need like some horny Christmas tree, he scolded himself.

“No clue,” Heeseung gasped, white as a sheet. “Sorry I dragged you along with me, did you want to—”

“Are you insane?” Sunghoon cut him off. “You think I want to be anywhere you aren’t?”

“Well,” Heeseung swallowed. “That was probably worse than any of the codependent accusations.”

“Probably,” Sunghoon agreed. “Can’t put a price on entertainment like that, though. I’m proud of you, Hee.”

“It was nothing,” Heeseung murmured, lowering his lashes. “I should’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Never too late,” Sunghoon shrugged. “I’d say the build-up created anticipation. They all deserved to hear it from you.”

“We’ve probably ruined the rest of the holiday for them.”

“Can’t find a single fuck to give, honestly.”

Heeseung cracked a small smile, and Sunghoon’s chest cracked in two. “Thanks for ruining the holiday with me.”

“Are you kidding? I would’ve been so pissed if you did this with anyone else,” Sunghoon scoffed, flicking his hair out of his eyes. Heeseung laughed, then shivered. Sunghoon scanned him from head to toe. “Cold? You forgot to take a jacket with you.”

“Was kind of in a rush,” Heeseung mumbled sheepishly. Sunghoon shook his head, smiling as he momentarily detached his hand from Heeseung’s so he could drape his coat over the other boy’s shoulders. “Wait, no,” Heeseung protested as Sunghoon slid his arms through the sleeves, “then you’ll be cold.”

“How could I be?” Satisfied once Heeseung had stopped trembling like a newborn thing, Sunghoon reached back for his hand, gazing into his best friend’s eyes. Finding years and years’ worth of wintry nights bathed in this familiar candlelight, the one that’d kept him warm even by his sister’s burial site.  “How could I ever be cold? I’m with you.”

Heeseung’s lips parted as he stared back at Sunghoon, his pupils dilated to something planetary. Cosmic again. “Hoon, I…”

“Come on.” Sunghoon held onto Saturn tight, pulling Heeseung down the driveway. “Let’s go home.” 

✵✵

Sunghoon ended up making them jjapaguri and steamed eggs, since between the two of them, they’d only managed to eat three spoonfuls of food total at dinner. As usual, they forwent crockery and ate straight from the pot and pan. He felt a little bad that this was all he could offer Heeseung on Christmas, especially on such short notice, but his best friend happily polished off everything he was given, nary a complaint in sight. Sunghoon silently pushed more food over to Heeseung’s side of the pan, hiding his smile behind his spoon.

When they were done, Sunghoon dumped everything in the sink and tugged on Heeseung’s arm. “We’ll clean up later. I have something to show you first.”

“What if your parents come home and find all the dirty dishes in the sink?” Heeseung whined. “I’ll be labelled the worst house guest in history.”

“Because that’s the behaviour they’re going to be focusing on tonight, not the fact that we stormed out of Christmas dinner with your entire family,” Sunghoon snorted. “How much more trouble could we possibly get into?”

“Okay, you’re right,” Heeseung admitted, letting himself be manhandled up the stairs. “What do you have to show me?”

“You’ll find out in a second, be patient,” Sunghoon scolded. He dragged Heeseung into his room and sat his best friend down on the bed. “Okay, so, I know we agreed to stop getting each other gifts for the holidays after middle school—”

Heeseung’s eyes bugged. “You got me a—gift? When did you even have time to? I see you every single day.”

“You went back to your house pretty early today,” Sunghoon shrugged, retrieving the small box from the drawer in his nightstand. “I left right after you.”

“Oh… I didn’t get you anything though,” Heeseung said quietly.

“I didn’t expect you to. We haven’t gotten each other Christmas gifts in years,” Sunghoon reminded him. “I just had to get this for you this year.”

“Why? What is it?”

“So many questions,” Sunghoon smiled, settling down next to Heeseung and holding the box out for him. “Why don’t you just open it and see for yourself?”

Heeseung huffed out a laugh, nearly tearing the ribbon off in his curious haste. His mouth fell open when he lifted the lid off the box and finally got a peek at what was nestled inside. “What the fuck? Did you get me a car?” he squeaked as he pulled the shiny new fob out.

“Um, no, sorry.” Sunghoon rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. He should’ve realized that was the first conclusion anyone would’ve arrived at. His actual present paled in comparison. Maybe in another few years, after they graduated and got jobs, he could afford to splurge on Heeseung like that. But for now… “It’s actually the keys to my car. I went down to the dealership and got another set made.”

Heeseung stared at him, doe eyes wide and glittering. “Why?”

“Well, because—whatever’s mine is already yours too. This is just the last piece,” Sunghoon said, gesturing at the key in Heeseung’s hand. “Sorry, I know it’s kind of lame and you don’t—”

“Shut the hell up,” Heeseung croaked, and then Sunghoon was being yanked into his embrace, his face buried in the crook of Heeseung’s neck. “I love it,” Heeseung said fiercely. “I love it, thank you.”

Sunghoon’s arms circled his best friend, crushing them together even closer, wanting to become an indiscernible extension of Heeseung’s body. His nose was pressed to Heeseung’s bare skin where his collar had fallen away, and he bathed in the smell of fabric softener and caramelizing sugar. This was what it meant to be unmade, reborn. Losing Yeji had made Sunghoon acutely aware of the fragility of mortal life, the ephemerality of it. He’d dreamt of what it felt like to die before — of suffocating, going to sleep in a narrow tomb, his still heart an escort for the grave. But so often, now, he found himself fantasizing about dying from Heeseung’s death, of breathing in his last breath. Of being so interminably intertwined that when their coffin was dug up in the centuries to come, people peered at their fusing bones and saw only one skeleton. One soul.

“Why are you thanking me?” his voice was tremulous, muffled into Heeseung’s throat. He wondered if the goosebumps that erupted beneath the movement of his lips were only a figment of his imagination. “That car was basically ours already anyway. I just made it official so you’d stop stealing my keys.”

“I don’t steal them, I borrow them,” Heeseung corrected, pedantic as usual.

“Yeah, yeah, if you say so. Now you don’t have to, though. Sorry I couldn’t get you a real car, I’m broke.”

Heeseung extricated himself from the hug, only pulling back far enough to stare at Sunghoon, eyebrows raised. “Has your car been fake this entire time?”

Sunghoon blinked. “No?”

“Then it’s a real car, isn’t it? Besides, I like this better.” Heeseung held his eyes, his gaze as tactile as a touch, a poem or a prayer. A shiver snaked down Sunghoon’s spine.

“You do?” he asked hoarsely.

“Yeah, I do. Really.” Was Sunghoon all up in his head again, or were their faces inching closer? “Hoon, you’re so…” Heeseung murmured, and Sunghoon was pretty sure he hadn’t imagined the way his best friend’s gaze dropped to his mouth. Unconsciously, he bit down on his lower lip, and his breath hitched when he saw Heeseung’s pupils dilate at the action, darkening under the moonlight. Their noses were almost brushing; they were so close Sunghoon could count every stark pen-stroke of Heeseung’s lashes, could feel his exhales curl between his teeth.

This felt like a good moment to be brave. All the things Sunghoon had been afraid of were suddenly forgotten, vanishing into smoke, retreating into the corners. It was so hard to be scared when he had Heeseung with him. The words were prickling on the tip of his tongue: Heeseung, I’m in love with you. No one’s ever held me so close, no one’s ever had me the way you do. I’ll love you ‘til the end of time. Heeseung, I’m yours, please, just say you’ll be mine.

“Heeseung—” he started, but he was cut off by the sound of the front door opening and closing, his parents’ faint voices floating through the house, shattering the spell that had encased the room. Heeseung blinked, the fog clearing from his eyes. “Shit,” Sunghoon cursed, leaning back and raking a hand through his hair. Talk about bad fucking timing. “They’re back.”

“We left the dishes in the sink!” Heeseung yelped, jumping up. “We’re so dead.”

“Let’s go and grovel, I guess. Not that we did anything wrong,” Sunghoon grumbled. “I don’t care if I get my ass kicked, I would do it again.”

“What, leave dirty dishes for your mom to wash?”

“You know what I mean.”

Heeseung’s eyes glimmered, binary stars. “I know,” he said softly, arresting Sunghoon’s breath again. “We should probably still apologize, though.”

Sunghoon sighed and stood. “Yeah, probably.” He was already dreading that lecture.

Just as he turned to make for the door, he caught the flash of a private smile curving Heeseung’s mouth, his gift closed within his palm and clutched to his chest. Right next to his heart. Sunghoon quickly looked away, but a smile of his own fought its way to the surface too. Just like he’d known it would.

Everything eventually fell to its knees for Heeseung. The world would inevitably stop and turn itself inside out; it had no choice. Not when Heeseung brought the sun, brought the light.

✵✵

Sunghoon and Heeseung left for Seattle the very next day, inundated with a stack of Tupperware filled with leftover japchae and seafood pajeon and frozen dumplings. His mother did not know moderation when it came to food, and Sunghoon was hard-pressed to refuse her. Especially after she hadn’t reprimanded them at all last night, letting them off the hook with only a stern glare and perfunctory pats on the head.

“Come back to see us soon,” she told Sunghoon at the front door, fussing with his coat. She’d long given up on trying to force him into a scarf, knowing he hated feeling bulky around the throat. “Maybe for seollal?”

“Sure,” Sunghoon agreed easily, his heart soaring when her eyes lit up. “I could come by the weekend right before the new quarter starts, too. If you’d like.”

“I’d like that very much,” she hummed. Heeseung came bounding down the stairs with Sunghoon’s father, catching her up in a brief hug.

“Bye, Mom. Thanks for having me.”

“I already told you not to thank me,” she scolded. “Thank you for bringing Sunghoon home.”

“Oh, well. He would’ve crawled back eventually,” Heeseung smiled at Sunghoon, laughing when he stuck his tongue out at him.

“Thank you anyway. Have a safe trip back, and I’ll see you again soon? I’ll tell your parents you said bye.”

“See you again soon. And don’t worry, I’ll call them,” Heeseung promised. He slipped past Sunghoon to let him talk to his parents alone, wordlessly taking Sunghoon’s bags out of his hand to load into the trunk.

“He’s a good boy,” Sunghoon’s dad remarked. “Takes care of you.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon murmured, averting his gaze to his feet. “I’ll take care of him too.”

“You’ll take care of each other,” his dad said. “Like you always have. That’s good.” 

“Hoon! Look!” Heeseung called. Sunghoon twisted his head around to give his attention to his best friend. Heeseung pressed down on the fob, and their car unlocked with a chirp. He shrieked with delight, bouncing in place, “Oh my God, it worked!”

“Of course it worked, did you think I got you a set of keys for show?” Sunghoon replied dryly, but he couldn’t help the smile growing on his face as he watched Heeseung beam and skip over to the car. He turned back to his parents, startling a little at the wide Cheshire grins they were giving him. “Um. Yes?”

“You gave him your car?” his dad asked.

“No,” he corrected, “I gave him a set of keys so that we can share the car.”

“You worked six days a week for two whole summers straight to scrape together the money for that car,” his mom commented, eyes gleaming. “That thing is your baby.”

“Well.” Sunghoon glanced back at Heeseung again, who was struggling to open the trunk with how many things he was holding. “There’s no possession on earth that could be more precious than Heeseung anyway.”

His parents exchanged an almost conspiratorial look. “I bet,” his dad laughed, and then he was meandering down the driveway to give Heeseung a hand. Sunghoon blinked, narrowing his eyes at his mother.

“Mom…” he began warily, “did you tell Dad what I told you?”

“No, but I didn’t have to. I told you, honey, everyone already knew. Long before you, it seems.”

“Mom, really—”

“And with what happened last night—”

“Okay, so I defended him from that nasty, insidious bitch,” Sunghoon muttered. “So what? I’ve always defended him.”

“Not that,” his mom waved a hand. “I meant after, when you came back here.”

Sunghoon tilted his head, puzzled. “When we came back here? What do you think happened when we—” Understanding flooded through him suddenly. Oh God. “Nothing happened,” he squeaked, feeling his face redden. He decided to leave out the fact that they’d almost kissed, or whatever the moment his parents’ arrival had interrupted had been. “We just talked. That’s it.”

“You’ve spent a lifetime talking,” his mom grumbled, shaking her head. “Can’t you spend your time doing something else more—productive?”

“Mom!” Sunghoon nearly screeched, scandalized. He forced himself to calm down and lower his voice, lest Heeseung overhear their entire conversation. “I haven’t even told him how I feel yet!” he hissed.

“Do you know how you’re going to?” she asked.

“I don’t know, I’ll just tell him, I guess. Why?”

“You don’t want to make it special?” she pressed.

Sunghoon paused. “Should I?”

“You probably should,” she nodded. “Best friends your whole life, and now you want something more. Big deal, and all that. You could make it a whole production.”

“Ugh, you’re just psyching me out even more,” Sunghoon whined. “What could I even do that wouldn’t be corny and cliché?”

“Cliché is cliché because it works,” his mom shrugged. “I know how you are, honey. Give him some romance, it’ll be enjoyable for the both of you.”

Sunghoon hated it when she was right. He loved doing things that made Heeseung happy, but… “Are you sure he’ll like it?” he asked dubiously.

She shot him an unimpressed look. “Who doesn’t like being romanced?”

“Some people, maybe,” Sunghoon grunted, just to be difficult. “Not everyone appreciates roses and picnics and being serenaded in the rain. It could come off as creepy, especially if the other person doesn’t like you back.”

“Hoonie,” his mom simpered. “Don’t be daft.” Before Sunghoon could argue, she shoved him out the doorway. “Now go, you’ve kept Heeseung waiting long enough. Don’t come back until you have a boyfriend.”

“Wow,” Sunghoon mumbled, regaining his footing. “Love you too, Mom.”

“I love you, honey,” she smiled, waving. Sunghoon sighed but smiled and waved back, until he reached the end of the driveway and got into the car.

“She looks happy,” Heeseung observed, his hand immediately finding its place on Sunghoon’s knee. Warmth radiated from just that touch, growing into a feeling so monolithic it was nearly indistinguishable from Sunghoon himself.

“Yeah,” Sunghoon breathed as Heeseung turned the keys in the ignition. “Because you brought me home.”

What he didn’t say was, home became a place again because it had you in it. What he didn’t ask was, if home was never meant to live in a person, then why does it live in you?

He didn’t have to. The answer was obvious.

✵✵

Heeseung dropped Sunghoon off at his apartment, promising to come back with the car tomorrow so they could run errands together. It felt strange walking into his lobby from the front doors instead of up from the carpark, but it was worth it just for the promise of getting to see Heeseung even more often, never mind the fact that they already spent every day together.

Sunghoon methodically unpacked and put everything away where it belonged: his mom’s food in the fridge, his clothes in his rapidly depleting closet, his shampoo and soap in the shower. Then he reached into his pocket and drew out the films he’d taken off Heeseung last night, tracing over the exasperation lining his face, the quirk of his mouth and the lambent glow of his eyes, warm and palpable even through the grainy pictures. Smiling to himself, Sunghoon hunted through his desk drawers until he found a photo frame he’d picked up from a yard sale about a year ago, slotting both the polaroids into the glass carefully and propping the frame next to the one that housed their photograph with Yeji. It felt right.

If you could see me now, he thought quietly, staring at his sister’s bright grin, I’d like to think you’d be happy about the way I’ve turned out. I think you’d be glad Heeseung and I still have each other.

Though not yet in all the ways that mattered. He’d been thinking the whole drive back about how he should tell Heeseung how he felt. How he was going to convince him to give them one chance at making this work, one shot at forever, and he had a pretty good idea. He turned his phone on to search for florists in the area, when a text from Wonyoung came through, asking if he was back in Seattle yet and when she could come over to hang out. He’d only just typed out an affirmation that he was and that she could swing by any time she wanted, when a knock at his door came.

Sunghoon set his phone down, baffled. Was that her already? Wonyoung was a girl of many talents, but he’d never thought that she was psychic. The knocks came again, more insistent this time. He sighed. Patience had never been his best friend’s virtue. 

“Okay, okay,” he grumbled, shuffling to the door. “You know, Wonyo, if you keep stalking me like this, your girlfriend’s gonna file a restraining order against me—” He cut himself off when he flung the door open and wasn’t met with Wonyoung’s glossy hair and doll eyes, but sunkissed skin and teeth worrying at a scarred bottom lip.

“I haven’t been stalking you, I swear,” Jongseong said. “I just took a chance on the hope that you were home. And I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Jongseong,” Sunghoon said flatly. “Obviously, I wasn’t expecting you.” The other boy shifted in discomfort, offering him a meek smile.

“Hi,” he said quietly. “I know you weren’t, but… can I come in anyway?”

Sunghoon considered saying no, but Jongseong had come all the way here, and his parents had raised him to have manners. He figured he could always kick him out the second he felt like it was too much. “Sure,” he said, swinging his door open wider. Jongseong nodded in thanks as he stepped around him, treading with caution. “Do you want anything to drink?” Sunghoon asked as he shut the door and turned the lock, hoping to God this didn’t turn out to be a colossal mistake.

“I’m good, thanks,” Jongseong mumbled, looking around Sunghoon’s apartment, which looked a lot less lived-in than it had been the last time he came around. “I came here because I wanted to talk.”

“Oh?” Sunghoon folded his arms. “Wanted to tie up all the loose ends, huh?”

“No, I—it’s not like that. I promise.”

“Because your promises are supposed to mean anything to me?” Sunghoon realized how cutting he sounded only after he spat the words, Jongseong wincing where he stood. He took a deep breath. “Sorry. That was harsh.”

“You don’t have anything to be sorry for, please,” Jongseong rushed to say. “I would honestly be a lot harsher if I were you. I’m the one who’s sorry.”

“Look, if you came here because you want my forgiveness—”

“No,” Jongseong blurted, panic-stricken. “I mean, it would be nice, but I really came over because I needed—need,” he corrected, “to apologize properly. For everything I did.”

Sunghoon shook his head, “I don’t know, Jongseong. Why now, after all this time? You had months.”

“I know this sounds like an excuse,” Jongseong swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing harshly, “but I saw you the first day of the fall quarter and you walked away so I… I figured I should give you some space. I thought if I chased you down it’d seem like I was trying to ambush you.”

“I did walk away,” Sunghoon conceded. “But you’re right, it does sound like an excuse.”

“Shit, I’m doing this all wrong,” Jongseong exhaled, running a hand through his hair. “I understand if you don’t wanna listen to anything I have to say. But would you… could you be open to reading it?”

“What?”

Jongseong reached into his jacket and pulled out an envelope, holding it out hesitantly. “Jaeyun wrote this. He’s not here today because—like I said, we don’t wanna ambush you. If you don’t want to listen to whatever I say, that’s okay. Really. But please, hear him out. Please.”

Sunghoon’s jaw worked. Well, he supposed Jaeyun was the lesser of two evils here. It was clear Jongseong wasn’t going to leave until Sunghoon gave his boyfriend a chance. Sunghoon uncrossed his arms, slowly coming forward to take the envelope from his outstretched hand, eyeing Jongseong as the boy deflated with clear relief.

Maybe he was being sincere and Sunghoon should’ve been cutting him some slack. He sighed at his bleeding heart as he tore the seal open, pulling out a letter written on genuine card stock. God, were they actually serious about this? 

Sunghoon, it read. I can’t say I’m sorry that Jay and I love and chose each other, but I am sorry about the way things happened. That was a terrible way to start this letter, fuck  You shouldn’t have had to be the collateral for us to finally get our acts together. After you were so kind to come and see me at the hospital, I’ve been debating on how to reach out to you and tell you just how sorry I am. How sorry we both are. But I didn’t know if you wanted to hear from us after all the pain we caused you, and honestly, I wanted the time to find the words too. I actually knew for a while that you had feelings for Jay. But I didn’t want to say anything because I was too scared to find out if Jay felt the same way, I didn’t want to know if the boy I loved wanted someone else. Deep down I knew if it came down to it I couldn’t compete with  I didn’t want to risk what I had for what I assumed was just a crush on your end.

Sunghoon swallowed, but kept reading. I was selfish and I wasn’t thinking, and the situation could’ve been prevented from going as far as it did. I’m sorry. You never have to forgive either of us, I know we haven’t done anything to deserve it. I just wanted to let you know that I understand how much hurt we caused and that we’ll always regret it. I’m not there right now because we didn’t want you to feel like we’re ganging up on you, but I hope that you’re reading this and that you’ll hear Jay out. I’m so sorry Sunghoon, I wish the words ‘I’m sorry’ could be enough. I really do hope that you’re happier now.

Jaeyun signed off the letter with his full name in Hangul and about twenty sad face stickers. Sunghoon’s mind was whirling as he lowered the letter, staring at Jongseong. “He’s still too nice for you.”

Jongseong rubbed the back of his neck. “I know.”

“To be honest, I never blamed him. For anything.”

“I know,” Jongseong repeated wearily. “I told him that too, but he insisted that he was partly responsible. He wanted to tell you he’s sorry.”

Sunghoon was silent for a long moment. He didn’t quite know what to think. Eventually, he decided it was better to listen to what Jongseong had to say, rather than spend the rest of his life wondering. In a way, this could be the idea of closure he’d discarded months ago. “And you wanted to say sorry too?”

“Yeah,” a careful hope sparked in Jongseong’s eyes. “I’m really sorry, Sunghoon. I am. I wasn’t in a good place, but it was never a reason to treat you as crappily as I did.”

“You knew I was in love with you, didn’t you?” Sunghoon asked mildly, and Jongseong flinched.

“Yes,” he admitted, hanging his head, twisting one of the rings on his fingers. “It started out as just me wanting a distraction, some sort of semblance of intimacy, but I could feel that you liked me and I became… I was desperate for love. I wanted it so badly that I didn’t stop to think about anybody but myself. I’m sorry, I never should’ve taken advantage of you like that. I wish I could take it back.”

“We don’t really get to do that,” Sunghoon said quietly. “We can say, ‘I’d do it all different,’ but whatever’s happened already happened.”

“I know, I’m sorry. I don’t—I’m not good with words like Jake is, and I’m the one who hurt you the most. I don’t know how I can ever make it up to you, Sunghoon.”

Sunghoon studied Jongseong’s glum expression, his hunched shoulders. “Are you happy?”

Jongseong startled. “What..?”

“Are you happy with Jaeyun?” Sunghoon clarified. “Does he make you happy?”

A small smile illuminated Jongseong’s face, and for a minute, he was glowing more golden than he ever had in Sunghoon’s memory. “More than I thought was possible. He’s the best thing to ever happen to me. He’s just so—he’s everything. He turns my world. It’s like I was made to love him.”

Sunghoon nodded slowly. He’d expected a wave of boiling resentment or bitterness to precipitate at the words, but he felt nothing. Just a distant sort of gladness. “I feel like I should be mad or want to tear your face off for that,” he mused, “but strangely, I don’t.” Jongseong blinked at him, and he shrugged, “To be honest, I had my own part in it all. I knew you loved Jaeyun, I knew you were looking at me and pretending I was someone else. I let it happen because I wanted to pretend too. I wanted some part of you to myself, like you were something to possess. So for what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

Jongseong gaped. “Wait, what? No, why are you apologizing, none of this is your fault. You told me you knew and I still—”

“I knew what I was getting into,” Sunghoon said firmly. “You didn’t lead me on and tell me it was anything more than it really was. I made it all up in my head to feel better about the whole situation.”

“You wouldn’t have had to make anything up if I’d been—”

“Look,” Sunghoon interrupted the other boy again. “We both regret how it went down, okay? We both did things we shouldn’t have done, and didn’t do the things that we should’ve done. You fucked up by kissing me first, but I shouldn’t have brought you home. I should’ve been better for myself.”

“I guess, but…” Jongseong frowned. “Why can’t you just let me say sorry and take full responsibility like a regular person? Now I feel even more like an ass because you’re being so nice.”

“I’m always nice,” Sunghoon flashed him a half-smile. “Honestly, Jongseong. Playing the martyr doesn’t suit you. Let’s just agree that it was a mistake and should never happen again, okay?”

“Okay,” Jongseong said. “But I’m sorry for—”

“And I forgive you,” Sunghoon replied calmly. “And I forgive Jaeyun too, even though he didn’t need to earn my forgiveness in the first place. I forgive you both.”

Jongseong’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked, his voice painfully small. Sunghoon had probably made it too easy, in truth. He probably should’ve made Jongseong grovel a little more. But he knew firsthand that holding grudges was like drinking poison, bleeding mercury into his sleepless nights, and he’d already moved on. He still didn’t quite understand why Jongseong had done what he did, but perhaps it wasn’t for him to understand anymore. It was only his to leave behind.

“Really,” he confirmed.

“Thank you, Sunghoon,” Jongseong murmured, expression collapsing like a marionette being snipped free of its strings. “Oh my God, I don’t know why I’m getting emotional. I swear I’m more manly than this.”

“Sure you are,” Sunghoon quipped, awkwardly coming closer to pat Jongseong on the shoulder. “It’s gonna be fine, Jay. I’m glad you’re happy with Jaeyun.”

“Thanks,” Jongseong sniffled. “How about you, are you—” he hesitated. “Have you found someone?”

“Oh. I wouldn’t say I found someone, per se.” Sunghoon’s eyes drifted to his desk, where the new photo frame sat. Jongseong followed his gaze, and let out a small sound of understanding, his tears immediately clearing.

“Ah. Heeseung, huh?” he smiled, the edge of it knowing — a little pleased, even. “I should’ve figured, you two have always made sense. It was only a matter of time, honestly.”

“Yeah?” Sunghoon’s heart swelled. “You think so?”

“I do.” Jongseong’s smile widened. “Look at you, all giddy. I’m happy for you, Hoon. You deserve happiness.”

“Well, I mean,” Sunghoon raked a hand through his hair, cheeks warming. “I haven’t exactly told him how I feel yet. I have a plan and all, but—we have such a good thing. I’m scared my feelings will mess it all up. He’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember, I don’t want to make things awkward or weird.” He wasn’t sure why he was opening up about this to Jongseong at all. Maybe he just needed another sounding board.

“Seriously?” Jongseong leveled a flat stare at him. “Sunghoon. That boy is head over heels for you. You should see the way he glares at me every time we cross paths on campus. If looks could kill, I’d be dead sixty times over.”

Sunghoon’s breath caught in his throat, arrested with a numbing hope. “He’s just being a good friend,” he tried to reason. “We’ve always looked out for one another.”

“I don’t doubt that. But I also think there’s more to it,” Jongseong shrugged. “You’re the only one who doesn’t see it, I guess. He’s just—different around you. Like you turn a light on inside of him.”

Sunghoon fell silent for a moment, grappling with the wonder blossoming in his chest. He hadn’t thought someone like him could turn on a light in anyone’s life. “Really?” it was his turn to ask, near-delirious and dizzy.

Jongseong patted his head. “Really,” he said firmly. “Tell him. It’ll work out, I promise.”

“Okay,” Sunghoon breathed, his heart breaking and mending and glowing. If it was more than one person telling him he had a chance, then it wasn’t a fluke, right? It wasn’t just a mother blindly believing that her son could do anything but love and be loved in return. “Okay. Thanks, Jongseong.”

 The other boy shook his head, “Don’t thank me. This is the very least I could do, after—you know.”

“After using my body and stomping all over my poor, fragile heart?” Sunghoon said dryly.

“I—” Jongseong’s eyes widened guiltily, hands fluttering in distress, before he caught Sunghoon’s grin. “I deserved that,” he sighed, “but you’re mean.”

“I’m gonna keep holding this over your head,” Sunghoon singsonged. “Forgiveness or not. Expect to owe me many, many favours in the foreseeable future.”

Jongseong’s face lit up with a slow, tentative smile. “You wanna be in contact in the foreseeable future? Like… friends?”

Sunghoon pretended to think about it, but he already knew the answer. He could’ve burned this bridge, honestly. Could’ve hated Jongseong for a very long time, especially since he got the closure he’d always wanted. But he was sick and tired of holding onto the past. He’d hoarded pieces before, obsessively counting what was given and taken, and he didn’t want to do it anymore. “Yeah,” he said affirmatively. “Like friends.”

“Can I—can I hug you?” Jongseong’s voice was timid. Sunghoon nodded, meeting the boy halfway when he opened his arms. Despite having slept with Jongseong for months, the warmth of his embrace was unfamiliar. They’d never hugged before, Sunghoon realized. It hadn’t been part of their arrangement. But there was no arrangement now, and it felt surprisingly nice. Jongseong didn’t smell like boozy honey and amber anymore too; instead, his clothes carried the scent of sweet citrus and bamboo. The same scent that wafted after Jaeyun in a trail.

How things had changed since the last time they were in Sunghoon’s apartment. It was nice.

The sound of the key turning in the lock echoed through the house, and before Sunghoon could react, Heeseung stepped through the front door. His eyes landed on Sunghoon and Jongseong embracing in the middle of the living room, and his expression soured like he’d bitten down on something rotten. Fuck. Sunghoon could only imagine the conclusions his best friend was arriving at. “Heeseung,” he squeaked, immediately pushing Jongseong back. “Why are you here? I thought—”

“Came to return your chargers. What’s this?” Heeseung asked, deceptively nonchalant. If it was anyone else, they wouldn’t have been able to tell he was seething, but Sunghoon heard the dangerous edge in his voice. “Long-awaited reunion?”

“No,” Sunghoon corrected, hoping he didn’t sound as nervous as he felt. “Jongseong just wanted to talk. Nothing else is happening.”

Heeseung’s eye twitched. “Right.”

Jongseong, picking up on the atmosphere, decided to take his leave while he could. “Um, look at the time! I should get going. My boyfriend is waiting for me,” he said, obviously emphasizing the word boyfriend for Heeseung’s sake. “Nice to see you again, Hoon. Heeseung.”

Heeseung didn’t return the sentiment. His eye twitched again. Jongseong muttered another word of goodbye as he skirted around Heeseung, and then he was scampering out the door. The second he was gone, Sunghoon whirled on his best friend, giving him a most unimpressed look.

“Did you really have to run him off like that?”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Heeseung said stiffly.

“You were being hostile.”

“I’m sorry I ruined your little rendezvous,” Heeseung clipped out, folding his arms. “Would you like me to call him back?”

“Rendez—what? Stop, Hee, I’m serious. There’s nothing going on. He showed up unannounced and wanted to apologize. That’s it.” Sunghoon eyed his best friend, his defensive stance. “Why are you so angry?”

“Do you not remember how he treated you?” Heeseung snapped. “How he strung you along and used you for months?”

“I think I remember. It’s not like I was there as a consenting, active participant or anything,” Sunghoon said. “Heeseung. I’ve let it go. Come on, you should too.”

“Why were you letting him touch you?”

“What? Are you—”

“Do you still have feelings for him?” Heeseung continued like Sunghoon hadn’t spoken at all. “Do you still want him, do you still think about him? You told me you didn’t think it was love anymore, was that a lie? Have you been missing him?”

“Heeseung, slow down—”

“Because he broke your heart and I was there to help you put it back together, Hoon. Does that not mean anything to you?”

Sunghoon blinked, bewildered. All of this over a hug? “Of course it does,” he said slowly. “Hee, you know how grateful I am that you’re always—”

“Grateful?” Heeseung laughed; it was a hollow, mirthless sound. He stomped over until he was scant inches from Sunghoon’s face, a palpable desperation leaking from his pores. “Is that it? When will you—what will it take for you to see me?”

Sunghoon stared at him. “See you? What do you mean?” He’s always seen Heeseung. His gaze had wandered before, yes — but Heeseung had always been there, in his periphery, waiting until he came back into inevitable focus. Did Heeseung… could he possibly..?

Black fire flared in Heeseung’s irises for a second, before they clouded over, the flames dousing themselves as quickly as they’d flickered to life. His expression slammed shut so fast and so hard that Sunghoon was surprised the windows didn’t rattle. He nearly flinched. “Never mind,” Heeseung said flatly, “it doesn’t matter.” He made to step back, but Sunghoon’s hand shot out to grab his wrist before he could.

“Stop it. Don’t walk away.”

“Let me go,” Heeseung warned. But Sunghoon wasn’t afraid, fueled by a surge of painful hope.

“No. I want you to tell me what you mean first.”

“Why do you want to know?” Heeseung’s voice was cold as he tried to pull his arm out of Sunghoon’s vice-like grip. “Go back to Jongseong, I’m sure he’ll offer some insight that I can’t provide.”

Sunghoon’s grip tightened. “Stop trying to hurt me. It won’t work.”

“Oh? No, really?”

“No,” Sunghoon shook his head. “You’d never hurt me, not really. I know you.”

Heeseung faltered, his mask of anger slipping like water over glass. “Hoon…”

“Tell me what you mean,” Sunghoon repeated. “I need to know. I need to hear it.”

“Why?” Heeseung tensed again, but Sunghoon could see the light of something breakable shining in his eyes. This had always been what they’d done for each other — they found the places that were most friable, and cradled them with two hands until they turned into gold. Sunghoon was determined to pour into these cracks. He wanted to burrow into Heeseung’s bones, live under his skin, breathe where he breathed. He wanted. He’d forgotten what life had looked like before this wanting had taken over it. “I don’t see how this could be important to you now—”

“Everything you say is important to me,” Sunghoon frowned, taking a step closer. Heeseung’s pupils dilated. “Everything about you is important to me.”

“Not this,” Heeseung said hoarsely, looking away. “You don’t want to hear this.”

“Don’t tell me what I want or don’t want. I’ll decide that for myself.”

“Sunghoon, enough.” Heeseung started struggling in his hold again. “I mean it, let go of me—”

“Stop fighting me,” Sunghoon said tersely. He released Heeseung’s wrist to grab his shoulders instead, trying to keep the other boy still. “Hee—look at me. Look at me.” Heeseung met his eyes reluctantly; Sunghoon’s mouth went dry, a scorched desert of feeling. With Jongseong, he’d always been finding reasons to find him beautiful. But Heeseung could never be anything but beautiful in his eyes. The world was changed because he’d come into it, made of ivory and gold, sun-sacred and moonlit. “Why would you think I don’t see you?”

Heeseung chewed at his bottom lip. Sunghoon’s gaze fell on the way the pink flesh blanched beneath his teeth. Every nerve in his body felt shredded, electrified. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’ve always seen you,” Sunghoon asserted. “Where in the world could I go that I wouldn’t? I see you everywhere. Around every corner and down every street and in every sky. In every dream.”

Heeseung gaped at him. “That’s not… what?”

“Do you need me to spell it out for you? Because I can. I look for you in every single beautiful thing. In all the places I can’t seem to find myself, I find you, and that’s enough. There isn’t a universe that could mean anything to me without you in it. You’re the air that I breathe.”

“Don’t—” Heeseung maintained a fiercely blank expression, but he was trembling. “If this is a trick, or a joke, it’s a really bad one. This isn’t funny.”

“I’m not trying to be funny,” Sunghoon said exasperatedly. “I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you.”

“I don’t believe you,” Heeseung whispered. “You can’t be. I would—I would’ve known, and Jongseong—”

“Wasn’t the one,” Sunghoon interrupted that train of thought. “I didn’t know it before, but I know it now. All this time, it’s been you. I think I’ve been in love with you my whole life.”

Heeseung still didn’t seem convinced. “Sunghoon, you don’t mean that.”

“You think I’m confused?” Sunghoon scowled. “I’m not. There isn’t anything I’m more sure of.”

“But you—” Sunghoon was getting tired of this back and forth. He hauled Heeseung in and clamped his mouth down over his, silencing any more protests. Stars burst behind his eyes, and nothing he’d ever done had ever felt this right; but then Heeseung gasped and kissed him back, and that was when the world really exploded. His hands slid to Heeseung’s waist, shaking from the need to crush Heeseung into him, to bind them together, to weld them into a single cyclone of being. He committed the taste of Heeseung’s muffled sounds to memory, cinnamon and spun sugar; he sealed their mouths together over and over again, restless and ruined. Heeseung’s dexterous hands reached up to tangle in his hair, winding strands around his fingers and tugging near the roots, wrenching a groan from the depths of Sunghoon’s chest. He felt Heeseung smile, teeth grazing his bottom lip, the sensation shattering through him and smashing every last shred of sanity. He was so irreversibly unraveled. 

Where had this feeling been all his life? Had he really wasted all that time kissing other people, searching for a paltry likeness of this religious revival? 

Sunghoon pulled back before he got too carried away. His self-control almost crumbled when Heeseung chased after his mouth, but he held firm, keeping Heeseung in place. “Do you believe me now?” he said lowly.

Heeseung’s eyes fluttered open, his irises smouldering with something ravenous, searching Sunghoon’s face. “Maybe,” he murmured. Sunghoon stared at the crimson curve of his lips, wicked and wanton. Fuck. His mind was a whirl of bleeding sparks. “Maybe you should convince me some more, though.” Before Sunghoon could reply, Heeseung was reattaching their mouths with a fervency, fracturing the cosmos down the middle again. They toppled down onto the ground, Sunghoon cushioning the fall, moaning when Heeseung arched against the length of his body. He drank Heeseung’s sighs straight from the source, heady, hungry.

He was sinking and he’d never stop.

When they finally broke apart for air, Heeseung swallowed, resting his forehead against Sunghoon’s. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to doubt you, it’s just… after all these years?” his voice was part-incredulity, part-pained relief. Sunghoon understood the feeling. “I’ve been dreaming about this for half my life. I’d given up on hoping you’d ever love me back.”

“You love me?” Sunghoon asked, his heart stuttering.

“Do I love you? Is that seriously a question?” Heeseung snorted. “How could you not know? I love you so much, it’s killing me. I die every single day and night for you.”

Sunghoon blinked, his eyes burning. It was incomprehensible, that someone like Heeseung could feel so much for someone like him. “Really?”

“Anyone who’s ever known me knows it. I love everything about you, Sunghoon.” One of Heeseung’s hands detached from Sunghoon’s hair to trace his face, his touch feather-light and gentle as it skirted over Sunghoon’s brow, down the slope of his nose and across his cheekbone. As if he was something to be worshipped. The urgency of passion from before melted, giving way to this tender impossibility. Sunghoon could hardly breathe. “Even the parts of yourself that you hate or don’t appreciate, the parts that you don’t know exist at all. I love all of them. There hasn’t been a single piece of you I’ve seen that I couldn’t love. From Seoul to Seattle, the one thing that always stayed the same was how I went to sleep thinking of you. All those years we spent wishing on planes and stars, I only ever wished for you, for you to one day suddenly turn around and say you loved me too. Like magic.” His eyes gleamed, “I guess that day is today.”

“It’s not magic,” Sunghoon managed to say, dizzy. “I was just an idiot who was blind to what was right in front of me all along.”

Heeseung’s smile was rueful. “I never thought that you’d love me back, ever. I was happy with anything you could give me, and you’ve given me so much. I’d made my peace with the idea of loving you from the sidelines for the rest of our lives.”

“How could you ever think that? It’s you,” Sunghoon wrapped his arms around Heeseung’s waist properly, brushing a butterfly kiss over his mouth. “In every lifetime, you’re the one. It’s you.”

Heeseung’s eyes and laugh were watery. He gazed down at Sunghoon like he’d put the moon in the sky, like he made everything come alive. Sunghoon’s throat was rapidly closing; none of this felt real. Heeseung was the one whose very existence turned the world. “I never thought we’d be doing this on your floor, but life really is full of surprises, huh,” Heeseung said, smiling through his tears.

“Yeah, I was planning for this to be more romantic, actually. I had a whole thing planned, but then you came barreling in here and I couldn’t not tell you.” Sunghoon pouted. “Any chance you could forget all of this and let me try again tomorrow?”

“No,” Heeseung beamed. “I like it better this way. Feels like us.” He paused. “Just out of curiosity though, what were you going to do?”

“I was gonna build up to it slowly, you know, get you roses every day for 16 days, for every year that we’ve known each other—”

“Shut up. You were not.”

“I would’ve,” Sunghoon grumbled, “if you’d let me romance you instead of tackling me to the floor. Then I would’ve kidnapped you for a sunset picnic and brought out a bunch of candles and told you then.”

“Sounds like we were gonna end up on the ground either way,” Heeseung pointed out amusedly. “I just expedited the process. And saved us from a potential fire hazard.”

Sunghoon heaved a great sigh for dramatic effect. “Does the word ‘romance’ really mean nothing to you?”

“If you’re so intent on it, you can get me flowers anyway,” Heeseung smiled sweetly. “Roses every day for 16 days sounds amazing. Then we can go on that date.”

“You wanna wait 16 whole days for our first date?” Sunghoon complained.

“17 days.” Heeseung’s eyes glittered. “You’ll start tomorrow.”

Sunghoon blinked up at him. “Sure. Anything else you want?”

“Well, for starters, I want us to move in together. We’ll put both our names on the lease.”

“Okay,” Sunghoon said easily. They’d basically been living together for the last three months anyway.

“And I want to tell everyone we know.”

“Okay.”

“And I want us to be one of those stupid couples with shared Google calendars and Costco memberships.”

Sunghoon’s smile widened. “Okay.”

“Okay? To everything?” Heeseung stared at him dubiously. “Really?”

“Yes, to everything. Whatever you want.”

“Don’t say that,” Heeseung muttered, propping himself up on his elbows. “You shouldn’t say that, because I’ll actually take everything I want. You know I’m greedy.”

“I know,” Sunghoon agreed. “I am too. So be greedy with me. I’m yours.” He delighted in the way Heeseung’s eyes darkened, a shadow-sweet crucible of desire. Should’ve known he’d be possessive. “Anything else?”

“I can think of some things that don’t require talking anymore,” Heeseung raised an eyebrow, languid and lecherous, grinding his hips down.

“Oh,” Sunghoon choked on a breath, suddenly untethered again. “I—out here?”

“We’re not animals, Hoon,” Heeseung scoffed, rolling off of him and reaching a hand down to pull him up. “You’re mine, aren’t you? So what happened to romance? Do the romantic thing and fuck me in a proper bed.”

Sunghoon nearly bit his tongue off in his scramble to get up, catching Heeseung’s silvery laugh in his mouth. He swallowed it and let it seep into the empty space in his chest, where it pulsed like a second heart, bigger and better and brighter. Something rusted turning into something new.

But that wasn’t a surprise. Heeseung had always, always been the light.

✵✵

“I already know what you have planned,” Heeseung whined, squirming in his seat. “Is the blindfold really necessary?”

“Yes,” Sunghoon rolled his eyes, laying a hand on his boyfriend’s thigh to keep him still. “Relax, we’re almost there.”

Heeseung pouted as he stopped fidgeting. “Jongseong already told me everything. I know where we’re going, I could’ve driven today.” In the last year, Sunghoon had reconnected with both Jongseong and Jaeyun, deciding to let that summer of bad decisions be water under the proverbial bridge. Heeseung had been standoffish at first, but he’d eventually warmed back up to them and had most surprisingly gotten on with Jongseong, whom he’d never been close with before, like a house on fire. Sunghoon and Jaeyun often expressed their dismay, with the latter in particular always complaining that Heeseung was a bad influence on his boyfriend. Jay makes the absolute worst jokes now, he’d sniffed. Sunghoon was just miffed that Jongseong seemed determined to monopolize all of Heeseung’s time.

“Jongseong knows nothing,” he waved away. “That man is an incorrigible gossip. I’d never tell him anything.”

“You’re the one who wanted us to be friends,” Heeseung reminded him.

“Yes, friends. Not bosom buddies who try to foil my romantic exploits at every turn.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” Heeseung said with a blasé air. “You reap what you sow.” Sunghoon rolled his eyes again, but caught his boyfriend’s hand in his own to press the back of it to his lips. He bit back a smile when Heeseung blushed.

“Just a few more minutes,” he promised. “Sit back and stop worrying your pretty little head.”

Heeseung huffed, but subsided. He fiddled with Sunghoon’s fingers, humming under his breath. Sunghoon finally let his smile break through — here, with one hand on the wheel and the other intertwined with Heeseung’s, his boyfriend’s melodic voice pouring into every quiet second like liquid gold, was where happiness was found. Leaving everywhere else hollow.

They turned into the parking lot, and Sunghoon made quick work of finding a space and rushing to help Heeseung out of the car. “You know, I could do this myself, if you’d just take this off,” Heeseung gestured at the blindfold.

“Have you always been this impatient?” Sunghoon sighed, wrapping an arm around Heeseung’s waist as they began to walk.

“People are gonna stare. They’re gonna think that this is some kinky, exhibitionist sex thing.”

“I’m not seeing the problem.” Sunghoon was promptly belaboured by a frantic round of slaps to his shoulder.

“Sunghoon!” Heeseung admonished, but the laughter was apparent in his voice. “If we get hate-crimed because you can’t keep it in the bedroom, I’m breaking up with you.”

“You would never,” Sunghoon said softly, echoing a conversation they had in his car once before, what felt like only yesterday but was more than a year ago. Heeseung on his left and the sun sparkling on Portage Bay to his right, an incandescence blossoming in his rearview mirror.

Heeseung was remembering it too, it seemed. A knowing smile pulled up the corners of his mouth. “I would never,” he agreed immediately. Sunghoon couldn’t help it; he stopped to turn Heeseung’s face towards him and catch him in a brief but burning kiss.

Heeseung’s lips were parted and his cheeks pink when Sunghoon pulled back. “Hey, so,” he began conversationally, as if his voice wasn’t hoarse, “I kind of like this blindfold thing. It’s growing on me. Should we keep it on when we get home?” A flash of biblical fire simmered low in Sunghoon’s gut. He had to resist the urge to tear the blasted fabric off Heeseung’s eyes so he could stare into the burgeoning, silk-dark heat he knew he would find there. He swallowed the desire blooming in riotous, ravaging bursts, clearing his throat.

“Oh, shush.” He resumed walking, tugging his boyfriend along. “It’s coming off in a minute.”

“You never let me have any fun,” Heeseung sulked, pretending to drag his feet.

“And you never stop trying to seduce me in public,” Sunghoon retorted. “I miss the times when you were all shy whenever I so much as touched you.”

“That never happened.”

“Well. I like to imagine that it did.”

“What else have you imagined?” Heeseung asked, tilting his head faux-innocently.

“Baby… don’t start,” Sunghoon warned.

“I didn’t start anything, I’m just continuing. You’re the one fantasizing about me and keeping it all to yourself.”

“You don’t want to know,” Sunghoon said, cheeks hot. “We’re here, I’m gonna take the blindfold off, okay?”

“Aw, just as I was beginning to enjoy it.” Sunghoon could hear the wolfish grin in Heeseung’s voice as he slipped behind him to untie the fabric. He jabbed his boyfriend in the back, holding back a laugh when he yelped.

“You’re a menace, you know that?” he murmured as he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Heeseung’s ear. A sense of smug satisfaction ignited his blood when Heeseung shivered. “Just open your eyes.”

“You’re so bossy today,” Heeseung griped, blinking as the light assaulted his vision. “Is this the mall skating rink? The big surprise is the mall—” He cut himself off with a gasp, swiveling around to gape at Sunghoon, eyes large and shining. “The skating rink, oh my God. Hoon. Baby, how are you—”

“I’m okay,” Sunghoon said, laying a hand against Heeseung’s face, his heart swelling when his boyfriend leaned into the touch without thinking. “More than okay, actually. Happy anniversary, baby.”

“Oh my God,” Heeseung repeated shakily. “You want to—do you feel..?”

“I feel like you just gave me the best year of my life,” Sunghoon smiled, feeling Heeseung tremble. “And I want to skate with you again. I always felt bad that you had to give up skating because of me—”

Heeseung shook his head. “I didn’t want to do anything that brought you so much sadness,” he said firmly. “It meant that much to me because it was something we did together. It was an easy choice to make. Choosing you has always been the easiest choice to make.”

Sunghoon’s smile widened, stepping closer, “Let’s do it together again. It won’t be the same, but… I want to try, with you. I want to leave all that grief over unfulfilled dreams and incomplete lifetimes in the past. I think with you, I can.”

“Stop talking,” Heeseung warbled, fisting Sunghoon’s collar and yanking him in for another cosmic kiss, making the rest of the world dissolve into nothing more than stardust. Heeseung tasted like new dreams and new lifetimes, like tears of a joy so luminous it chased every last sorrow away.

When they separated for propriety’s sake, Heeseung declared breathlessly, “I’m gonna marry the fuck out of you one day.”

Sunghoon was certain that if he started glowing any brighter, he’d develop his own gravitational field. “Well, I hope so.”

“Don’t hope. Know it, up here,” Heeseung tapped Sunghoon’s temple, “and in here.” He rested his palm on Sunghoon’s chest, right over his heart. Right where it belonged. 

“Okay.” Sunghoon nodded, his heart racing. It was pounding so hard his boyfriend could definitely feel it. Choosing you has always been the easiest choice to make. “I’ll know it. Better start working on your vows, Lee.”

Heeseung laughed, eyes twinkling, “Tomorrow. Right now, I wanna skate with you again.” He grabbed Sunghoon’s hand and hauled him towards the skates rental kiosk, nearly skipping towards the counter. Sunghoon hung back and let him get both of their skates, gazing out at the ice, watching the wobbling families and shrieking friends and spinning couples. He soaked in the happiness in the air, and felt clear of any bitterness.

Yeji would’ve loved to come here, he thought, with fading bitterness too.

“These are so ugly,” Heeseung announced upon his return to Sunghoon’s side, holding up two pairs of alarmingly bulky orange skates. 

Sunghoon hummed, “Too bad we outgrew our old ones.”

“Not all that bad,” Heeseung knocked their shoulders together, the smile he reserved for Sunghoon illuminating his face. “We get to be grown-ups teetering around on oversized skates now. I also get the bonus of seeing you be ungraceful for once in your life, plus an excuse to keep you close.”

“As if you need an excuse for that,” Sunghoon snorted, lifting the hideous skates out of Heeseung’s hands and thanking him with a kiss on the cheek. “Heeseung?”

“Yeah, baby?”

“I hope it snows tomorrow.”

Heeseung’s eyes widened, flickering with surprise, but it was only for a fraction of a second. His soft mouth collided with Sunghoon’s again, dropping the skates to cradle Sunghoon’s face in his warm hands.

“I know it will,” he whispered against Sunghoon’s lips, as sure as the winter’s first frost. The gleam in his eyes was hearth and home, an everglow. “I’ll know it.”

Sunghoon chose to know it with him, because it was just as he had always said: Heeseung brought the light. 

Notes:

and that’s a wrap, thank you for coming with me on this journey :( this universe and these characters are so beloved to me, a lot of this story was deeply personal to me so i hope the happy ending i gave them did them justice!! a lot of the talk about grief and moving on comes from my personal experience after losing someone close to me to suicide, and i hope for anyone who’s experiencing or experienced a loss that this could resonate you with in any way. i sincerely hope that someone out there loves these boys even half as much as i do <3 if you did pls come and yell at me in the comments or on twt/retrospring <3 all my love and hugs always

Notes:

thank you for reading! i swear this was only supposed to be a 10k one shot i don’t even know how it grew into this :/ somehow i managed to take a 4 and a half minute song about a summer fling and turn it into a whole yaoi series… taylor are you proud of me LOL also if it seems like i don’t know how a kid talks to their mother it’s unfortunately true i got an abusive narcissist for a mom growing up who i’m now saddled with caretaking since she developed a schizoaffective disorder so pls forgive any child-mom dynamic inaccuracies

if the pacing seemed off i’m sorry i’m working through severe burnout right now :( come find me on twt or retrospring to yell about heehoon and our enha <3

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 2 of tableaux vivant