Chapter Text
4. When you realise literally everything reminds you of him (“my love language is gift giving!”/ “love, you say?”)
Seonghyeon's abandoning him for acai. Again. He'd rather have acai than have Keonho! The betrayal.
Keonho says as such to Seonghyeon's back, who's rummaging in the crevices of the beat up, worn down sofa cushions for his left airpod. “I hope you never find your airpod,” Keonho sulks spitefully, slumping on the couch in front of Seonghyeon simply to prevent him from looking any further.
“Aish,” Seonghyeon just laughs, shoving at Keonho's limp body. “Get off the couch.”
“Not until you agree to go to the mall with me,” Keonho huffs, like a petulant child that just got denied candy. He still flips to the side, though, clinging to the armrest as Seonghyeon shoves his hand in between the gap he was covering.
“But you don't want acai first,” Seonghyeon points out, putting his hands on his hips, head cocked to the right as he stares down at Keonho's sprawled out limbs. “It's not my fault the acai shop is so far away.”
“You always want acai,” Keonho bemoans, rubbing at his face with both of his hands. “It's always acai, acai, acai. What about Keonho?” He covers his eyes with an arm and a dramatic groan. Seonghyeon roots around some more, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.
“Found it!”
Face lighting up, Seonghyeon dives at a spot on the ground. Keonho moves his arm to peek at Seonghyeon, and sees him holding up the airpod triumphantly, like he'd just won a daesang instead of finding his earpiece.
“Oh, all right,” Keonho grumbles. “Ignore your best friend. See if I care.”
“It's just one day,” Seonghyeon rolls his eyes, plucking one of his skinny scarves from the floor and looping it around his neck–personally, Keonho always thought it suited Seonghyeon extremely well, and highlighted the elegant curve of his long neck. “I'll go to the mall with you some other day, promise.”
Keonho considers this for a bit. “I accept,” he agrees, then holds out a pinky towards Seonghyeon, who looks about ready to head out. “But you have to pinky promise.”
Seonghyeon sighs exasperatedly, but the smile playing on his lips is fond. “Big baby,” he laughs, then sticks out his own pinky anyways, interlocking it with Keonho's outstretched one. They hold it there for a few seconds, until Seonghyeon glances at the clock and literally jumps, yelping.
“I told the manager I'd meet him downstairs at 3pm,” he says in one breath, picking up random tidbits around to stuff in his bag. Keonho turns his head to look at the clock. It's already 3. Keonho cackles as Seonghyeon runs to put on his shoes and beanie haphazardly, then rushes out the door with a hurried “bye”, accidentally leaving the door open in his wake.
“Bye,” Keonho calls out fruitlessly after him, though he must be long gone. He stares at the slightly ajar door for a few seconds, wondering why he'd felt a hole open in his chest as he watched Seonghyeon leave.
Sat on the sofa that's slowly but surely sinking under his weight, a devious gleam festers in Keonho's eyes, the cogs of his brain already concocting a plan to abduct one of the hyungs to go with him instead.
“MARTIN HYUNG–!”
—-----------------
“I cannot believe you convinced me to do this,” Martin huffs, holding up his baggy jeans with one hand. He'd forgotten his belt in Keonho's haste to get the both of them out the house as soon as possible, and now they were too loose on him.
“It's your duty as a hyung,” Keonho grins, “to play with your dongsaengs.”
“Says who?”
“Says me.”
“Why does it sound like you're using me as a court jester,” Martin mutters suspiciously, then shrieks in a pitch so high Keonho swore it could break glass, just because he narrowly missed a dirty puddle on the floor. It's worth mentioning the puddle was only 10cm wide, max.
You might as well be one, Keonho almost says out loud, then remembers why exactly he dragged Martin out here. He would actually like a shopping buddy, after all, even if some unfortunate sacrifices have to be made in order to stop said buddy from running back to the dorm.
“You're just hallucinating it,” Keonho says placatingly, his hand flying out to grip onto Martin's forearm, pulling him in the general direction of the street. “Now start walking. I see a store I want to go to.”
For all his grumping and groaning, Martin shuts up promptly when they enter a people-dense area. At least the guy has some self respect and dignity left, Keonho muses thoughtfully, glancing at Martin sideways. They stroll down the street like the normal teenagers that they definitely aren't, pointedly ignoring the occasional stares and whispers from passerbys.
“Fuck, I think someone got a pic of me tripping on the curb.”
“It's fine, man.”
“It's not fine! What about my reputation?”
“Did you even have one in the first place? Like, I'm genuinely asking.”
“Yah, you brat–!”
“Shhhhh,” Keonho shushes. Out of the corner of his eye, he'd just spotted something that made him stop in his tracks abruptly, effectively making a distracted Martin crash into him with a pained shout.
“What the hell, man?” Disgruntled, Martin rubs his chin balefully, but Keonho has already run off to the merchandise store with an extremely vibrant exterior and looks about 3 seconds away from exploding into skittles, rainbows and glitter.
Entering the store with a grimace that stemmed from the bright burst of light that attacked his corneas the second he opened the door, Martin swivels around as he tries to spot Keonho's familiar silhouette amidst the copious racks and displays, to little avail. What was the use of all this height when all he does is bump into doorframes and fail at finding his members?
“Look!”
Martin screams.
Keonho muffles him immediately by slapping a hand over his mouth, shooting him an incredulous look as he hisses, “shut up! We're indoors, for god's sake.” Then his expression performs a perfect 180°; from disgust to adoration, when he turns his gaze to the keychain in his hand that Martin hadn't noticed he was holding– or maybe he would've noticed, if he didn't just get the everliving crap scared out of him.
“What's that,” Martin mumbles, while Keonho basically shoves it in his face and says happily, “Doesn't this look like Seonghyeonie? I'm totally getting it.”
Planting a hand into Keonho's head, Martin successfully wrangles him away from his personal space before he gets to look at the keychain in question. Well. It does look like Seonghyeon, Martin will give him that. It's one of the characters from Tamagochi Life–the yellow one with the big bug eyes that's always side-eyeing someone, and the navy blue hat(?) with ears. Perhaps it was the oval eyes and sassy attitude that made it resemble Seonghyeon.
“It's piss yellow,” is the first thing Martin blurts out.
Keonho gasps. “No it's not,” he defends adamantly, clutching it to his chest. “It's canary, and it's adorable,” he stresses, now stroking the plushie’s silly cap with maternal instinct.
“You know you just admitted that Seonghyeon is adorable, right?” Martin questions. And you just admitted you're getting it because it reminded you of him. He doesn't say this out loud.
Keonho ignores him, turning his back to him in a fake search for other merchandise, but the pink flush creeping onto his ears is unmistakable. Wait, Martin muses. He didn't deny that, though. Is this progress?
Turns out, this was just the first of many, many more insufferable encounters to come, to Martin's horror.
“This gray long sleeve is totally Seonghyeonie's style.”
He walks out of the shop with a gray long sleeve.
“Do you think I should get Seonghyeon this tote? He's so into the fandom nowadays.”
He tries to find the same thing on Temu and adds it to his cart.
“Doesn't that cat kinda look like Seonghyeon when he gets annoyed during dance practice?”
He snaps a picture and sends it to a predictable someone, fingers flying over the tiny keyboard.
“Hey, the shape of that cloud is exactly like the birthmark on Seonghyeonie's back.”
He takes another picture.
He's being exactly like me when I was trying to court Juhoon, Martin thinks, observing all of this with a knowing smile on his lips. But then again, Keonho probably doesn't even realize what he's doing.
At the end of the day, Keonho's hands are laden with so many shopping bags any unassuming person would've thought he was evacuating from a disaster instead of simply going to the mall for half a day. Staring at Keonho, who's carrying so many bags he can only totter in a barely-straight line, Martin almost wants to laugh. In comparison, his own shopping habits suddenly feel a million times more optimistic.
Then comes the last straw to the devastation of Martin's sanity: “They're selling daisies, hyung. Do you want to get some flowers? I'm getting a bundle for Seonghyeon. I think he likes daisies. He even tried to steal that daisy patterned shoe at the Dior show.”
Sorry, what?
“You're getting him flowers?” Martin questions flatly, only barely keeping the incredulity he's feeling out of his voice.
“Yeah! Why not?”
Martin is feeling very dumbfounded right now. Even if he wasn't courting Seonghyeon before, he has to be now, right? Or are they already dating? That would explain a lot of his recent behaviour. Slightly mollified, he doesn't say anything when Keonho tramples over to the roadside cart, not when Keonho asks nicely to buy a bundle of daisies, and not when he sees Keonho stuff all his own purchases into one overfilled bag to place the bouquet inside delicately.
Watching the sun set on the horizon, they start the walk back to their dorm in comfortable silence; or at least as comfortable as it can get with Martin radiating neurotic brainwaves all over the place.
“Out with it,” Keonho says, twisting his head to level Martin with a suspicious look. “I can quite literally hear your internal plight from here.”
“It's nothing,” Martin says, then hesitantly, scratching his head, “just uh, congratulations on your relationship?”
Keonho whips around. “What?”
Martin waves his hands frantically in the air. “Oh, sorry. Are you still in the weird friendship-relationship transition phase?”
“What are you talking about,” Keonho argues. “We're best friends. Our friendship is the relationship.”
“Okay,” Martin repeats unbelievingly, “Okay.” He rubs at his temples and takes a deep breath, before starting, “then imagine this. Seonghyeon finding a partner. Seonghyeon dating. Seonghyeon going out on dates with someone that isn't you, laughing and talking and having the time of his life with his partner. Someone else buying that stupid keychain for him and being on the receiving end of his delighted face. How does that make you feel?”
Then he watches in real time as the images register in Keonho's brain and his complexion fades into a deathly white.
“That's what I thought,” Martin says, not unkindly. “You always thought you would be the only one doing these things with Seonghyeonie, didn't you?”
Keonho has slowly sunk down to crouch on the side of the pavement, his distress evident on all his features. “Oh fuck,” he whispers, “I do like him, don't I?”
Martin breathes out a sigh of relief. “Finally you get it. We've been trying to tell you this for the last year, dimwit.”
“So what do I even do now?”
“Confess, duh.”
“It seriously can't be that easy. Like, I can't lie, I'm fucking terrified at myself right now.”
“It's okay to be scared,” Martin interrupts before Keonho goes into a whole other spiel about his newfound epiphany of liking his best friend, patting his head consolingly. “But you guys have had your thing going on for so long. Probably longer than me and Juhoon, and that's saying something. I'm proud of you finally getting your shit together. You know what, I bet it's going to be the easiest confession on planet Earth.”
“What if he says no?”
“Well…we'll figure it out, I guess,” Martin says, hesitantly. “But I seriously doubt that's going to happen. I'm also pretty sure Seonghyeon's been waiting for this since like, forever.”
Keonho blinks. “What?”
“What?”
“What do you mean, he's been waiting for this since forever?”
“Oh, uh, nothing!” Then Martin hightails it down the street.
Keonho stands still, watching Martin's lanky figure grow smaller and smaller in the distance, the beginnings of hope blooming in his chest.
+1 When he asks “what are we?” And you genuinely don’t know what you’re doing so you confess your feelings to bro (non-platonic intentions)
As it goes, it takes one whole month for Keonho to grapple with the reality of liking his best friend, one week to pester Martin and Juhoon about his dilemma while simultaneously avoiding their pda, and two more weeks of the three of them concocting seriously ridiculous confession ideas together.
“Romantic candlelight picnic on the beach,” Martin says.
“With my luck, it’s gonna end up with my shirt on fire,” Keonho grumbles.
“Bookshop date and cafe confession,” Juhoon suggests.
“Just because you pick up books doesn’t mean we do too,” Keonho reminds, shoving his face into his hands.
“Serenade him under a balcony?” Martin supplies.
“Can you guys please stop projecting your ideas of a perfect confession onto us?” Keonho snaps, then asks, “how did you guys even get together anyways? I know for a fact that it's definitely Martin-hyung that confessed.”
He does not miss them catching each other’s eye for a split second. He also does not miss the way the corner of Juhoon's lips quirk up, and doesn't miss how Martin's face flushes red immediately.
“He actually–”
“You promised you wouldn't bring it up!”
Martin tackles Juhoon onto the sofa, shoving a hand up his shirt to attack him with tickles. Juhoon yelps and squirms, but opens his mouth anyways like he has a life to spare that's not the one being assaulted by fingers right now. “He–he did it in the company bathroom,” Juhoon giggles, actively attempting and failing at pushing Martin off him. Hearing this, Martin slumps onto Juhoon, burying his face into his chest and groaning loudly. “This is so humiliating,” he bemoans, but Juhoon continues all the same.
“I forgot what I was wearing that day, but it was something about my makeup, because this guy,” he pokes a finger into Martin's head of blonde, “he walked into the bathroom and stopped right in his tracks when he saw me,” he laughs, seemingly at the memory.
“Then I watched his face turn into a tomato in real time wondering if he was having an aneurysm, and all of a sudden he just blurts ‘you look so fucking beautiful right now please be my boyfriend’, and the rest is history,” he smiles, hand now absentmindedly carding through Martin's hair.
Keonho scrunches his face up in disgust. “In the fucking company bathroom? You guys are such losers.” Then he slumps visibly. “But you make it seem so easy. You love each other. Good for you.”
Juhoon looks at Keonho's dejected expression, and sighs. “It’s okay to be afraid,” he tells him, “we were scared too, when we were in the same phase you guys are going through. Just know that doing it scared, no matter the result, is always going to be way better than missing the opportunity and living with the regret forever.”
Keonho looks at Juhoon. When did he get this wise? Next thing you know he's sprouting a beard and turning into Master Oogway. Nevertheless, it's solid advice. “Thanks,” he says, tentative determination brewing.
-
“Wanna go to the Han river with me? I want ramyeon.”
Keonho stands by their room's doorframe, leaning on it sideways in a manner he thinks is nonchalant as he gnaws on his lip nervously, anticipating Seonghyeon's response. Today is the day. Today is the day, he repeats internally like a mantra. I am going to tell him today, whether I like it or not. He starts getting worried when he gets no answer from a sprawled-on-the-bed Seonghyeon.
“Why,” Seonghyeon says lazily, swiping on his phone. “Can't you make ramyeon at home?”
His hoodie rides up his stomach as he stretches leisurely, briefly flashing a silver of smooth, pale skin. Keonho eyesight hones into the exposed skin immediately, uncontrollably, before he remembers what he's here for. “Well–,” he splutters, “it's different. The uh, river air makes it better,” he finishes lamely. “And I want a nice stroll.”
Seonghyeon just hums noncommittally. “What’s in it for me?”
“I'll buy and cook your ramyeon,” Keonho says helplessly, just as Seonghyeon interjects, “it's paid for by the company card anyways.”
This guy! He's so impossible.
“Seonghyeoniee, don't be mean,” Keonho whines, flopping onto the bed, landing next to him with an oomph. “Please go with me. Please, please, please, pleaseeeeee?” He grabs at Seonghyeon's phone half-heartedly, just to shift his attention onto him, and attempts the best impression of puppy eyes he can possibly muster.
“Seonghyeon turns his head just a smidge, and pinks instantly at their close proximity. He's so cute when he blushes, Keonho thinks. Kind of like a ripe peach. “Pleaseeee?” He wheedles further while inching closer, and that does it. Seonghyeon pushes his face back with a hand, snapping, “okay, fine. Are we going or what?”, acting all impatient and annoyed when his fiery ears betray him completely. Keonho whoops loudly, then they wrestle their way out of bed, tugging and kicking; the usual banter.
In the convenience store, Keonho gets his ass beat by his indecisiveness. It’s a debilitating issue to be taken seriously, he would tell you. “More like you seriously need to take your head out from your ass,” Seonghyeon tells him. He holds his own already-paid-for plastic bag containing instant noodles and a drink and something Keonho can’t remember, while hovering restlessly around Keonho’s crouched figure.
“Should I get the cheese ramyeon or chapagetti? Wait, Jin low-key looks good right now. Should’ve I get that instead?”
“I think you should get your shit together,” Seonghyeon begs, watching on powerlessly as Keonho weights two cups of noodles in his hands, a pondering expression on his face, then puts one of the options back just to reach for another one by Seonghyeon’s feet.
“Not on my watch,” Senghyeon says, moving his foot to cover the shelf that Keonho was reaching for. He shuts down Keonho’s imminent, endless loops of self doubt and questioning by pointing at the one currently in his hands. “That’s your choice now. End of story.”
Keonho opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, poised to protest, but then he squints at the packaging and merely shrugs. “Sure.”
After paying with the company card, they hold their bowls of steaming hot, freshly-cooked ramyeon to walk along the river’s pedestrian sidewalk, because Keonho had insisted that they find a nice spot to sit and look at the view before eating. That goal is quickly demolished when Sepnghyeon starts slurping down his noodles rapid fire in the middle of the pavement, which of course, prompts Keonho to do the same, never one to back down from a challenge.
In his defence, he almost wins—or at least, he was in the lead all the way until he chokes on a noodle and sneezes it out his nose, which he would describe as an extremely unpleasant experience. Seonghyeon would think so too, if the way he recoiled in disbelief at the scene was any indication. They discard the trash and continue strolling along the path, occasionally dropping comments on the frigid weather and a suspiciously dick shaped cloud. Keonho bends down at every sight of wild flowers, plucking the nice ones into a bundle in his hand, then offering them to Seonghyeon casually with a cheesy grin. Seonghyeon is halfway to taking it furtively, when a hand taps his shoulder.
They turn around to see a pair of presumably similarly aged girls. “Yes?” Seonghyeon inquires politely, though he’s a little irked at being interrupted in the middle of receiving flowers.
“Sorry if we interrupted you,” one of the girls says, blushing. “It was just—me and my girlfriend,” she gestures next to her, “we were also having a stroll, and we couldn’t help but think you guys make a really cute couple.”
The effect is instantaneous.
“What?” Keonho asks, as Seonghyeon replies, “we’re not a couple,” with a tight-lipped smile on his face. Keonho feels his heart sink just a little at the defensiveness in his voice. Not yet, he thinks, hopefully.
The girl looks between them, lost. “You’re not a,” then she catches Keonho’s eye, and she must have sensed something Keonho wasn’t even aware he was conveying, because realisation dawns in her eyes. “I’m so sorry!” She apologises profusely, “sorry for making an assumption like that. Have a good day! We’ll be leaving now—“ all in one breath, and drags her girlfriend away so fast the both of them don’t even get a chance to react.
Keonho glances at Seonghyeon, trying to gauge his reaction, but his expression is stoic, unmoving. What could he be thinking about? Keonho would sacrifice his left sockto know what was happening in his brain. He hopes Seonghyeon is thinking that he would like to date him.
“Um,” Keonho coughs, “I see a bench up front. Do you wanna sit?” Seonghyeon nods soundlessly. To break the awkward atmosphere that’s slowly creeping up on them, Keonho cracks a horribly timed joke.
“Why don’t oysters donate to charity?”
Seonghyeon gives him a massive side eye yet entertains him all the same, seemingly snapped out of his previous stupor. “Why?”
“Because they’re shellfish. Get it? Selfish? Shellfish? Ha ha ha.”
Seonghyeon groans loudly and pushes him onto the bench. “That was the worst joke I’ve ever heard, for the record,” he tells Keonho, settling next to him. There’s an itch under his skin urging Keonho to scoot closer to Seonghyeon. He pointedly ignores it in favour of figuring out the perfect moment to say something.
In the meantime, he stares at Seonghyeon’s beautiful side profile, basked in moonlight; the sharp angle of his jawline, the plush curve of his lips, the furrowing of his brows in concentration—why is he playing flappy bird? Is he desensitised to the grand view of the Han river? Please don’t be desensitised to the Han river. Or at least, be desensitised after Keonho confesses and not before. He doesn’t want Seonghyeon to remember this as just some confession by some unimportant river. Something red catches his eye.
“Oh,” Keonho mumbles, already leaning forward into Seonghyeon’s personal space like it’s second nature, reaching his hand out. “There’s still a—uhm, some sauce on your—let me just-“
Lightly, he swipes his thumb over the area just shy of Seonghyeon’s top lip, getting rid of the residual sauce, and before he even realises what he’s doing, he’s bringing his sauce stained finger to his lips, tongue darting out to lick it away.
Seonghyeon is staring at him. He’s actively trying to drill a hole in his head by the way he's staring so intently, unblinking. Keonho is the opposite. He blinks in succession and out of confusion. “Whatchu lookin at?” He snarks, through a mouthful of thumb.
“Keonho,” Seonghyeon says, after a long pause, and if Keonho had really focused on his tone, he would’ve heard the resignation in his voice. “What are we?”
Keonho physically feels his heart drop to his ass.
In hindsight, Keonho can't say he didn't see this coming. He did plan this day specifically, after all. But he wouldn’t ever had imagined that it would be Seonghyeon to initiate it, for him to ask in such a straightforward manner. The moment comes in a way that is ripped out of Keonho’s control, and Seonghyeon is here and real next to him. The the beating of his heart turns wild in his chest, and the first thing he says is:
“I don’t know,” Keonho mumbles, looking down at his hands and fiddling with the stray threads on his jacket hem. They fall silent. He physically can’t bring himself to look Seonghyeon in the eye. He doesn’t want to either, because he knows how he probably looks right now; overly awkward, childishly afraid, not knowing how to make sense of the situation, as always. Will Seonghyeon still look at him the same way, still laugh and play with him in that carefree, unbridled way of theirs, after this? No amount of mental preparation will ever brace him for this; The fear of losing his best friend threatens to overwhelm him.
But then he glances sideways, and catches Seonghyeon’s gaze, just for a second; a second too long, a second that’s enough to change everything. For the most part, Seonghyeon’s eyes are worried, yet stunned at the same time, like he’s surprised at himself for uttering the words that rocked Keonho’s world. Just a small trace of sadness and guarding, akin to bracing yourself for rejection, but above all that, an undercurrent of hope, and Martin's words come rushing back to him. He's been waiting for this since forever.
Keonho is far from being the brightest one in the group. Hell, hes had his fair share of dim moments too. Yet being here now, it clicks to him that maybe, just maybe, Seonghyeon will understand, will want it too, the words that are refusing to come out, imprisoned by his nerves. The silver of hope flashes through his mind again, and this time, Keonho has his mind made up,
He’s never been one to disappoint Seonghyeon. He’s never been one to live with the fear, either, so he clings onto the meagre threads of hope, praying to god it’s going to be enough, and opens his mouth.
He turns his head to look at Seonghyeon properly. Seonghyeon is staring at something in the distance now. Is he nervous too? Weakly, Keonho clears his throat, and the sound is enough to startle Seonghyeon from his daze. “So um,” Keonho starts, voice trembling, “about your question.” In his periphery, he sees Seonghyeon's lips part too, but he’s afraid whatever words that come out may break the wave of artificial bravery he’s riding on, so he barrels on.
To be honest, Hyeonie, I haven’t done this before,” he breathes, “like, at all. You know how I said I was inexperienced in the romance department? Yeah, I was being literal as hell. Up til now, I’ve never known how having a crush feels, so I guess I just thought we were best friends.” He closes his eyes on the last sentence, taking a few moments to re-steel his nerves. There’s no response from beside him, so Keonho continues, “then Martin hyung and Juhoon hyung gave me a really fat reality check. And starting after that, I started realising that I might—my feelings aren’t just platonic at all, because…I really, really like you, Eom Seonghyeon. I want to be whatever you want me to be, as long as you’ll have me?”
So there. Keonho mentally counts to ten in his head, then turns his head slowly to face Seonghyeon again. He's not prepared to see Seonghyeon holding back his tears, eyes rimmed with red, and his heart aches.
“Seonghyeonie,” Keonho murmurs, taking Seonghyeon's hand from gripping the edge of the bench, into his own, holding it firmly. “I like you.”
Seonghyeon sniffs wetly and adjusts his jacket with one hand; he doesn't pull away from my hand, Keonho notes, but he stays silent for a few moments.
“You cannot be fucking with me right now,” Seonghyeon says thickly, sentence phrased like a statement even though the corner of his lip is trembling, like how it always does when he gets nervous.
Appalled, Keonho shakes his head, offended at the idea of him not being serious about his feelings towards Seonghyeon. “I'm not,” Keonho insists. “I’m being so for real right now. Why would you think otherwise?”
“Because you always like me,” Seonghyeon snaps, eyebrows pinching together in frustration, another habit of his that Keonho has grown to become terribly fond of. “You always say you like me,” he continues, “you hold my hands and cuddle me and look at me like that all the time just to tell the world we’re best friends,” he sighs, then all of a sudden, his steam runs out, staring at the river wistfully when he says, uncertainly, “how can I even be sure that it’s real now, after so long?”
Keonho’s brain is running a thousand miles a minute; thinking about all the ways he should reassure Seonghyeon that he likes him, he loves him, to apologise for the way he left him alone to grapple with the weight of both the feelings all along, to ask him what he wants them to be, but that’s not really answering Seonghyeon’s question, is it, so finally he settles on, “I realised that I always looked at you like that, and did all those things I never do with the others, because I love you,” he confesses, earnest and open, the most vulnerable he’s ever let himself be.
A beat passes.
“Oh,” Seonghyeon whispers, so soft Keonho has to strain his ears to catch it. “Oh,” he repeats, and a stray tear escapes from the corner of his eye.
“Don't cry, Hyeon,” Keonho coaxes gently, scooching closer to Seonghyeon on the bench so their thighs touch. “I'm sorry it took me this long to realize it,” he says sincerely, bringing his hand up to Seonghyeon's face, wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb. Seonghyeon doesn't speak, probably because it's quite a lot to process, Keonho will admit, so he waits patiently.
Then, Seonghyeon mutters something unintelligible under his breath, and just as Keonho asks, “what did you just say,” Seonghyeon repeats indignantly, “you better be sorry,” even as more tears spill out from his lashline, and slaps Keonho's thigh hard.
For a fleeting moment, Keonho doesn’t know whether to believe his ears or not, but the next second Seonghyeon's response is so typical of him, Keonho can't help the laugh that bubbles out of is lips.
“What are you laughing at,” Seonghyeon grumbles, lowering his head to wipe at his eyes with the back of his free hand–his other hand is still trapped in Keonho's grip.
“Sorry, sorry,” Keonho says in between giggles, “this is so—this is so Seonghyeon of you. I can’t believe I ever thought you would have any other reaction than this.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“You're such a moron. I can't believe I ever wanted you to be my boyfr–” Seonghyeon cuts off abruptly, side-eying Keonho, and it's only then Keonho remembers with a start he hasn't even asked the million dollar question.
“Oh fuck,” Keonho says audibly, forgetting all about volume control. Seonghyeon flicks his ear.
“Owwwwww,” Keonho whines, “what’d you do that for?”
“For being an idiot,” Seonghyeon deadpans, even though Keonho still can't take him seriously while the tip of his nose is red and his cheeks are rosy. “Are you going to ask me to be your boyfriend or do I have to do everything in this house?”
What house, Keonho thinks to himself. We're by the river. He's not brave enough to vocalize this thought, only because he treasures his forehead deeply and would not like an imprint of Seonghyeon's nail on it.
“Eom Seonghyeon,” Keonho starts solemnly, looking Seonghyeon in the eye. “Would you like to pursue an exclusive romantic relationship with me?”
This nerd, seriously.
Seonghyeon sighs deeply. “You’re such a fucking nerd,” he mutters, but then he leans forward and presses his lips to Keonho’s anyways.
It’s every bit as monumental as he expected it to be. Sparks fly and imaginary fireworks explode. He physically feels his neurons he didn’t know he had activate in his brain as he feels Seonghyeon’s plush lips against his own, tentative and hesitant, and he can’t have Seonghyeon doubting his love for him, can he, so he closes his eyes and leans deeper into the kiss. So this is what kissing Seonghyeon feels like, a part of Keonho’s brain muses. Their noses bump against each other as Keonho goes back in for more; what a sight they must make, two teenagers newly and solely in love, trusting each other to be their first kiss, first love, first everything, and no one else, Keonho thinks, giddily, as Seonghyeon moans softly against his mouth, their bodies basically moulded to one another’s on the bench. Feeling brave after some kissing, Keonho’s tongue darts out to swipe along the seam of Seonghyeon’s lips, like how he saw in tv shows, then breaks apart just as quickly just to see Seonghyeon’s flustered expression. And also not to get arrested for public indecency.
“Took you long enough,” Seonghyeon snarks, but he’s smiling widely, eyes thinned into slits, obviously pleased. He’s glowing, and Keonho couldn’t be happier.
“I already said I’m sorry, baby, what more do you want?” Keonho pouts.
“Do my laundry for a month.”
“….”
“As much as I love you, there’s no way in hell I’m agreeing to that, jagiya.”
Seonghyeon puts on a whole show of gasping and glaring at him, and then starts pulling away from Keonho jokingly, not expecting Keonho to take his hand in his, and slip on a tiny flower ring, made hastily but delicate nonetheless, onto his finger. It’s one of the flowers from the wild bouquet, he recognises, heart swelling with fondness at the silly ring.
“Soooo…you're mine forever now, right?” Keonho asks shyly, imploringly, despite the both of them knowing there only one answer, really.
“Of course,” Seonghyeon laughs, as he thinks, this is it, finally.
——-
afterthought
they go home while holding hands all the while, and even though Seonghyeon tenses up when he sees other people Keonho only holds him even firmer which makes him blush.
the first thing they hear when they open the door is an extremely loud congratulations by the 3 of them; an absolutely ecstatic Martin, smiling Juhoon and confused James that got pulled in by the other 2. Then they break it to him and he collapses onto the floor with a really dramatic scream. Later he demands all of them buy him noise-cancelling headphones as compensation for the future atrocities theyre definitely going to commit.
the ultimate 5th wheel, James calls himself, but he’s still grinning, and even threatens to kill all 4 of them if they fight and don’t communicate properly.