Work Text:
Seungcheol tries to think nothing of it when Jeonghan slips into Mingyu’s car instead of his own, but he’s never been very good at thinking nothing of things, and especially of Jeonghan.
He doesn’t say anything when Jihoon gets into his passenger seat, which is the seat Jeonghan ordinarily would waste no time claiming. But things have not been particularly ordinary lately, and Jihoon is an optimal shotgun passenger. He’s not loud, but he’s chatty when it’s the right subject, and Seungcheol can trust him with the radio.
“Let’s go!” Soonyoung jumps into the back seat, followed by Chan, and it might not be such a quiet car after all, actually, but that’s fine. Too much quiet probably wouldn't be good for Seungcheol’s brain, and he doesn’t have the option of sleeping through the next three hours. Which is also fine, even though he has gotten so little sleep this week due to…well, recent events that he doesn’t want to spend the next three hours turning over in his mind. So it’s good that the car will be loud.
“Everyone have everything?” he asks as he starts the car. He gets two affirmations and one salute and an immediate demand for music.
Then they’re off. Through the rearview mirror, Seungcheol sees Minghao’s car follow, and then Mingyu’s behind him. Funny how Jeonghan’s so good at choosing the option farthest from him.
He shakes off the thought. He couldn’t have planned that, you stupid overthinker. But knowing Jeonghan, he could have. As good as he is at knowing how to be close to Seungcheol — always claiming his passenger seat even if someone else was sitting there first, sliding in next to him on a couch when there’s no room, coercing him to buy matching accessories with him, seamlessly fitting himself into Seungcheol’s plans when it suits him — he’s just as good at knowing how to be far from him. Double edged sword.
“Be patient!” Jihoon says as Soonyoung and Chan start chanting the title of the song they want played. The one that Jihoon selects is a decidedly different song, but it pleases Soonyoung and Chan anyway because they start singing along immediately. It brings a laugh out of Seungcheol, his thoughts effectively disrupted.
He gets onto the highway, feeling a little looser. Behind him, Minghao and Mingyu’s cars follow.
As the years have passed, the route for their annual snowboarding trip has grown familiar enough that Seungcheol hardly needs the GPS pulled up on his phone. It’s a trip that all thirteen of them make a point to keep their calendars free for every winter. It gets harder with each passing year, with changing careers, the fact that they don’t all live in the same city anymore, and relationships that come and go, but they’ve managed another year, and Seungcheol is grateful. There’s nothing like when it’s all thirteen of them.
Seungcheol won’t take this time for granted. This won’t last forever. Things change more and more every year, and things change- between them, too-
The volume of the radio suddenly hikes up, and Seungcheol glances over at Jihoon, startled.
Jihoon’s eyes are on the road in front of them. “Stop thinking so much,” he says.
In the backseat, Soonyoung and Chan sing louder.
-
When Seungcheol comes back from the bathroom at a rest stop, he finds Soonyoung sitting in the driver’s seat of his car and refusing to move.
“Just give him the keys,” Jihoon says, still firmly in his spot in the passenger seat. “Those circles under your eyes are a threat to our safety.”
“I’m not tired!” Seungcheol says, even though his brain does feel a little fuzzy. It’s fine. He should drive his own car.
“You don’t want to sit next to me?” says Chan, suddenly appearing at Seungcheol’s side. He sticks out his lower lip.
“It’s my car,” Seungcheol says.
“I have a perfect driving record,” Soonyoung says, which is, amazingly, true.
“What’s the hold up?” Seungkwan yells over from Mingyu’s car. Seungcheol looks over, which is a mistake, because instead of looking at Seungkwan he makes direct eye contact with Jeonghan, who’s looking at him through the passenger seat window. Mingyu’s passenger seat.
It makes Seungcheol feel even more like an idiot when he gets into the backseat of his own car.
Soonyoung pulls back onto the road. Seungcheol tries not to give in, but his eyelids grow impossibly heavy in minutes.
-
The thing is, Jeonghan confessing that he’s in love with him is something Seungcheol has longed for, and dreamed about, for years. So it seems unimaginable that it would be the cause of a massive rift between them.
But it is.
Jeonghan did confess, and they haven’t spoken since.
-
Seungcheol wakes up feeling like he’s emerging from hibernation, disoriented and overheated. It takes him a moment to realize that he’s in the backseat of his own car, that they’re not moving, and that Chan is shaking his shoulder.
“Hyung,” Chan is saying. “We’re here.”
Where? Seungcheol sits up. A puffer jacket that isn’t his slips off of him.
“I need that,” comes Jihoon’s voice from the front. Chan grabs it and passes it to him. Beneath it is Chan’s own coat.
Outside the window are trees coated in more snow than they had been at home. There are other cars around them, under a grey afternoon sky. A familiar lodge. A ski lift up the mountain. Right. Their trip.
Seokmin laughs as Seungcheol stumbles out of the car dazedly, snow crunching beneath his sneakers. The cold air seeps through his hoodie immediately and he scrunches his shoulders.
“Hyung! Where is your coat?” Seokmin says. Jihoon’s hand sticks out from behind Seungcheol, handing it to him. Seokmin takes it and immediately secures it over Seungcheol’s shoulders. He takes Seungcheol’s stiff arms and directs them through the sleeves.
“Aw, so sleepy, sleepy Seungcheollie-hyung,” Seokmin singsongs, and Seungcheol has never felt more like a toddler. What’s worse, it’s kind of nice. His head still feels so fuzzy with sleep.
Behind Seokmin, the others are unpacking their own cars. Seungcheol should help. Seokmin zips his jacket up to his chin and secures both his sweatshirt hood and jacket hood over his already beanie-clad head.
Seokmin’s eyes curve again as he steps back. “So cute!”
Mingyu appears from around the other side of his own car. “Seungkwannie and Jeonghan are checking into our rooms,” he says. His eyes fall on Seungcheol and he grins. “You look warm, hyung.”
Seungcheol’s face feels puffy and overly-hot in the cold air. Soonyoung hands him his duffle bag from the trunk and shoves his snowboarding boots into his arms.
Once everything is unloaded, they all start heading for the lodge. Snow slowly soaks into Seungcheol’s socks through his sneakers and it's cold and uncomfortable. He should have just worn his boots, but it’s easier to drive in sneakers. Not that it really ended up mattering.
His head is swirling with these groggy thoughts as he steps into the lobby of the lodge. It’s beautifully warm. There’s a roaring fire in an enormous stone fireplace and so many cozy couches that Seungcheol immediately longs to collapse on.
“Hyung,” he hears, and a plastic keycard is pressed into his hand. Seungcheol looks up at Seungkwan. “You’re sharing with Wonwoo.”
Seungcheol nods. He doesn't usually share with Wonwoo because Seungcheol is more of a night owl than he is, but with the way sleep still tugs at Seungcheol’s eyes, maybe their schedules will line up better than they usually would.
Seungcheol picks his duffle bag back up and looks around for Wonwoo. His eyes, of course, land on Jeonghan.
It’s clear that Jeonghan was already looking at him. He’s not standing very far away, surprisingly, only Seungkwan and Joshua between them. Seungcheol’s still drowsy enough that he doesn’t look away. It feels normal, suddenly. Like Jeonghan is going to come over and start batting at him for being all sleepy when they have to get out on the slopes.
Then Jeonghan looks away. Seungcheol’s heart feels an acute sting.
Perhaps it’s his sleepy, muddled state of mind, but Seungcheol considers the fact that he could change this. It doesn’t have to be like this. The thought twists itself around in Seungcheol’s mind for the millionth time this week.
Jeonghan, at his core, is not unkind. Jeonghan is, really, very much the opposite. Which is why what he did caught Seungcheol so off guard.
An arm lands around Seungcheol’s shoulders, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Hyung, we’re roommates,” says Wonwoo, and he starts directing them toward the elevators. “Let’s go find our room.”
<<<
“Wow, that’s a plot twist,” said Soonyoung, when Seungcheol had gone to Jihoon’s place the next day after it all happened. Soonyoung had been in the bathroom when Seungcheol burst into the apartment and told Jihoon the entire story. “A love confession finally happens between you and Jeonghan, and you didn’t say yes?” Soonyoung’s eyes were wide. “You?”
“I didn’t-“ Seungcheol started, but his heart twisted so hard in his chest he felt sick. He hadn’t- he didn’t reject-
He doubled over, elbows digging into his thighs as he threaded his hands through his hair, squeezing his eyes shut. He hadn’t said no, but he hadn’t said yes, either, had he?
>>>
Seungcheol longs to go back to sleep when they get to their room, and normally he thinks that Wonwoo, of all people, would let him.
“You should come out with us,” Wonwoo says, tugging on his snow pants. “That’s why we came, right? You can sleep at home.”
But that’s the thing- Seungcheol hasn’t been able to sleep at home. And he feels particularly exhausted again after the wave of emotions brought on by a simple glance from Jeonghan.
It makes Seungcheol feel stupid. Sensitive. It makes him want to shut his brain off for another few hours.
But Wonwoo is probably right. This is why they came. Wasn’t he just thinking, earlier, about how he needed to take advantage about being here with all of them? Times like this won’t last forever. Even if Seungcheol’s not in the best shape, mentally, being with his friends will help.
“I know it’s hard,” Wonwoo says gently when Seungcheol doesn’t respond.
Seungcheol realizes suddenly why he was paired to room with Wonwoo. Wonwoo doesn’t pry, but he also doesn’t ignore. He’s a comforting presence. He knows it’s hard, even though he doesn’t specify what he knows is hard. Because it could be a number of things. Seungcheol doesn’t know if Wonwoo is talking about his fight with Jeonghan, or the fact Seungcheol just broke it off with the person he’d been dating for the last few weeks. Possibly, probably, both.
The thing is, Seungcheol isn’t even sure if what he had with Yura can even be called a breakup, not if they’d barely had a chance to make it real. It was a few weeks of dates with a girl from work. Seungcheol hadn’t even told all his friends about her yet, but information doesn’t really stay a secret among them. He would have, though, if he’d had a chance. They really had been on the verge of making it something real when-
When Jeonghan decided to interfere. And now Seungcheol isn't dating anyone.
“I’m just tired,” Seungcheol says. He looks at Wonwoo though, and smiles. “But you’re right. I’ll come.”
Wonwoo’s eyes light up. That in itself gives Seungcheol the energy to move.
<<<
The night Jeonghan had told him, it had been after Seungcheol’s nicest date yet with Yura. It was late, and the air had that pre-snowfall stillness when they had kissed in front of the train station, her body warm against his in the freezing air.
Seungcheol was just walking to his apartment building as the snow began to fall, the hot glow of something new blooming in his chest, when his phone buzzed. He’d looked down, flakes melting on the screen, expecting to see Yura’s name. Instead he saw Jeonghan’s.
He was asking if he could come over. He hadn’t given a reason, and it was unusually late for Jeonghan to ask that sort of thing. Seungcheol wondered if he should be concerned. He knew some of the others had gone out for drinks tonight because he’d had to tell Seungkwan he couldn’t make it. He brushed the snowflakes from his screen. He started to text back as he rounded the corner to his building when he walked straight into someone.
“Ah, sorry-” he started, a hand balanced on the stranger’s arm, when he looked up and startled.
“Jeonghan?” he said. Seungcheol’s response to his text was still half typed on his phone.
Snowflakes glittered in Jeonghan’s long dark hair under the yellow building lights. Something about it made him look a little ghostly, but he smiled, like it was the most normal thing in the world for him to materialize out of thin air in front of Seungcheol’s apartment building at midnight. “Hi, Cheollie.”
“You’re here?” Seungcheol said. This was disorienting him. The feelings from his date with Yura still burned in his chest. “I was just answering your message.”
Jeonghan shrugged, knocking their shoulders together. In the low light, his eyes were gleaming. “I assumed you wouldn’t say no.”
Well, he was right, even if Seungcheol only wanted to walk Kkuma and go to bed, and then maybe turn some choice moments from his date over in his mind a few times. He stuffed his phone with his half-typed text into his pocket. “Is everything okay? It’s late.”
“Hmm, everything’s fine,” Jeonghan nodded, sticking unusually close. There was something a little wired behind the mildness of his tone, and in the careless way the snow was piling on top of his head.
“Are you sure?” Seungcheol asked. He reached up to brush the flakes from Jeonghan’s hair. “Why aren’t you wearing a hat? You’ll get sick.”
“Yah, give me yours, then,” Jeonghan demanded, and then he abruptly began to shiver under his giant puffer coat as if Seungcheol’s words had reminded him it was cold.
Seungcheol sighed, but he took his beanie off and tugged it haphazardly over Jeonghan’s head, figuring he’d just grab another one when he went up for Kkuma. “Happy?”
Jeonghan blinked at him from beneath the hat, his bangs flattened over his eyes, as if he hadn’t actually expected Seungcheol to comply with his demand. As if Seungcheol didn’t comply with most of Jeonghan’s commands. “Yes.”
“Good,” Seungcheol said, then turned to the door. “I have to get Kkuma, she’s been alone for hours.” He considered telling Jeonghan about his date, but hesitated.
Jeonghan just wasn’t someone he ever really discussed his dating life with. Probably because, in the past, if there was ever one person he wished he was dating, it was Jeonghan himself. But Jeonghan also never made a point of directly telling Seungcheol when he went out with people. So why should Seungcheol?
He was really working to get over it. He liked Yura. It was best not to test his progress.
Instead, he let them both into the warmth of his apartment lobby and asked, “Is there a reason you’re here?"
He half-expected Jeonghan to say something like, I can’t just visit my best friend Seungcheollie because I want to see him? To which Seungcheol would reply, sure he could, but he usually didn’t do that between the hours of eleven at night and ten in the morning. Not that Seungcheol wouldn’t receive him at any hour, or even after dates with other people, apparently, which was probably not very healthy of him, but that was something he could berate himself for after Jeonghan left.
But Jeonghan said, clutching the sleeve of Seungcheol’s jacket, “I can tell you once we’re back outside.”
Seungcheol laughed. “Why?”
But Jeonghan just shook his head, nose and cheeks pink from the chill, illuminated by the fluorescent lights of the hallway. After knowing Jeonghan for so many years, Seungcheol knew when it was useless to try to get the details of a scheme out of him. On second thought, it really shouldn’t be surprising that he showed up in the middle of the night.
Seungcheol got Kkuma, and he grabbed another hat, and then they went off back into the night. It was snowing even harder when they stepped back outside, white accumulating on the sidewalk. Kkuma immediately sniffed around at it, but Seungcheol knew she wouldn’t last very long in the cold.
Jeonghan was hovering, and Seungcheol was about to tell him to say what it was he came here for now that they were back outside, but then his phone buzzed. Seungcheol dug it out of his pocket. It was the text he’d been expecting from Yura. She had gotten home safe and she’d had a great time tonight. Seungcheol’s chest simmered, pleased. More texting bubbles appeared. Snow blurred the screen, but Seungcheol could make out the words.
Oppa, I wanted to ask in person, but I was nervous
Do you think maybe…you might want to be my boyfriend?
Before Seungcheol’s heart even had a chance to flutter at her words, Jeonghan leaned over and tried to look at his phone screen. “Oh, is Seungcheollie popular?” he said. “Who’s that?”
“No one.” Seungcheol quickly locked his phone and stuffed it into his pocket, flustered.
It was stupid, because Jeonghan would definitely have heard from their friends that he was seeing someone. Jeonghan always found these things out. He knew everyone’s business even when he shouldn’t. “Someone from work,” Seungcheol said. It wasn’t a lie.
Seungcheol would answer Yura once Jeonghan was gone. Jeonghan, pressed so close and making Seungcheol’s brain expand in directions he’s been trying to avoid. Seungcheol looked at him, suddenly irritated, and narrowed his eyes. “I don’t try to read your messages.”
“Yes you do, you’re nosy,” Jeonghan said, shuffling closer and wrapping his hand around Seungcheol’s wrist. Seungcheol's mouth fell open, but Jeonghan kept talking before he could argue. “You’re lucky I’m not.”
It was so ridiculous that Seungcheol’s shock turned into a laugh. “Are you serious?”
“Mmhm,” Jeonghan said. He said it like he was only half-listening. He was walking so closely their shoulders were nearly flush, perhaps to guard from the cold, but his fingers were tight around Seungcheol’s wrist in a way that suggested otherwise, preventing Seungcheol from taking his phone back out even if he wanted to.
An unanswered message in his pocket from a lovely girl asking him to be her boyfriend. Jeonghan hanging off of him. Seungcheol’s mind swirled like the snow that was piling on top of Jeonghan’s head again.
“What’s going on?” Seungcheol asked, pushing Yura to the back of his mind for now. He was usually good at reading Jeonghan, but he didn’t understand this strange energy at all. “Are you drunk?”
Jeonghan’s own mouth fell open, eyes flashing in offense. “No.”
“I know you guys went out drinking tonight! It’s a fair question.”
“Well, I’m not,” said Jeonghan. His hand, if possible, tightened even more around Seungcheol’s wrist, but this time it felt like a warning. “Now stop. I’m trying to say something here.”
“Stop what?” Seungcheol said. Kkuma was tugging on her leash. She probably wouldn’t last much longer out here. “Say what?”
“I- the mood,” said Jeonghan. His eyes darted around at the snow falling fast around them, the flurry of white in the circles of the streetlights. It was beginning to add that muted quality of sound to the world. A flake clung to Jeonghan’s eyelash. “The first snowfall.”
Seungcheol didn’t know what he should say to that. Sure, it was a nice mood. Who didn’t love snowfall at night? It was cold, though. Seungcheol’s toes were starting to freeze, and the hand holding Kkuma’s leash was growing numb. He should have grabbed gloves.
Jeonghan looked at him. His eyes were wide, fully illuminated by the streetlamp behind Seungcheol, and close, so close, to Seungcheol’s face. A snowflake landed and melted on the tip of Jeonghan’s cheek, water going clear. There was a tremor in his voice, but his hand was a vise on Seungcheol’s wrist. “Seungcheol.”
Then he said the words that blew Seungcheol’s mind apart.
>>>
“You cheated!” Seungcheol shouts at the back of Joshua’s head as they reach the end of the slope. Seungcheol can hear him laughing before they even come to a stop.
“How did I cheat?” Joshua says as Seungcheol slows next to him.
“You started a millisecond before we said go!”
Joshua smirks as he pushes up his goggles. The sky is dark overhead by now, but Seungcheol can see his eyes in the bright slope lighting. “Sounds like a skill issue on your part. How’d you fall so far behind?”
Seungcheol scowls. He opens his mouth to retaliate, but he’s interrupted when three of the others come speeding down the slope, yelling for them to watch out.
Seokmin heads straight for Joshua, catching him around the waist as they fall into the snow, laughing. Seungcheol, however, looks up just in time to see Soonyoung speeding toward him at a much less forgiving pace.
Seungcheol immediately jerks his board out of the way. Right into the path of Jeonghan.
It’s lucky that Jeonghan is skilled. He pulls back instantly and comes to a sharp halt directly in front of Seungcheol. It’s the momentum that keeps his body going forward, right into Seungcheol’s arms. Seungcheol freezes with his grip around Jeonghan’s waist. He feels, very acutely, the way Jeonghan also goes entirely still.
Then Jeonghan shoves him away.
“Yah, Choi Seungcheol,” he says angrily, the tips of his cheeks red. “You can’t just jump in front of people!”
“I- ” Seungcheol sputters. “You guys were aiming right for us!”
“It was just for fun,” says Seokmin as Joshua helps him up. Soonyoung lays prone in the snow several yards away.
“Yeah, well,” Seungcheol says, feeling strangely off-balance with Jeonghan so close, with the feeling of his waist lingering in his hands, even through so many layers. “Someone could have gotten hurt.”
“I think we’re pretty uninjured,” says Joshua placatingly. Seungcheol wants to say that Jeonghan was the one that yelled at him first, but he catches himself before he can sound like a child.
All the lightness he’d felt after sailing down the mountain is gone, replaced by frustration after only five seconds of Jeonghan’s presence. Jeonghan, who’s already heading toward the ski lift, away from them.
It doesn’t even matter that he said he was in love with me, Seungcheol thinks pettily, sourly. It wouldn’t have worked out anyway.
He regrets it immediately as the thought sucks every ounce of fun out of the air. The wind is suddenly freezing despite how suited up he is, bitter cold snaking through his jacket into his skin.
Seungcheol feels sick with regret.
Soonyoung picks himself up on the ground and hops back over to Seungcheol on his board. “Sorry for almost running you over,” he says. “Want to go again?”
Soonyoung really does look sorry. But Seungcheol shakes his head. “I’m tired,” he says, and leans down to unstrap his feet. “I think I’ll head back.”
“Okay,” Soonyoung says, and Seungcheol must be really pitiful if he doesn’t try to argue. “I think Minghao and Hansol are there. You should hang out with them.”
If Seungcheol were in a better mood, he might think it’s nice that his friends want him to stay busy so he doesn’t have to think about things. But he thinks he’s reached the end of his rope for one day.
<<<
The thing about it is, they were always just missing each other. And it was never as if Seungcheol hadn’t put any effort into it in the past.
He was going to do it, he was going to tell Jeonghan, finally, finally, once they graduated from university- but then Jeonghan got an internship in Japan.
“Japan?” said Joshua when Jeonghan made the announcement that he’d be gone for an entire half a year, so blithely that Seungcheol thought he had been joking, at a random dinner all thirteen of them happened to be able to attend. “I did not see you fill out one single job application this year, no matter how many times I told you to.”
Jeonghan shrugged, always more ambitious than he appeared. Then he went to Japan for half a year, and Seungcheol only cried about it a few times (and only while drunk). By the time Jeonghan got back, Seungcheol was dating someone else.
The timing just never aligned for them.
Seungcheol got a new job. Jeonghan started dating someone. Jeonghan’s grandpa got sick. Jeonghan got a new job. Seungcheol got a promotion that kept him so busy he hardly had time for anything. Seungcheol started dating someone.
“You two drive me insane,” said Junhui of all people, unprompted, at Hansol and Seungkwan’s housewarming party when they moved into their first really nice apartment a few weeks ago. Those two had possessed the foresight to start dating while in college. “You keep staring at him, and he keeps glaring at the guy you brought.”
Seungcheol sputtered over the glass of wine Hansol had, very stiltedly, served him when he walked in.
“Also, who brings a date to a housewarming party, anyway?” Junhui said, rolling his eyes.
“I’ve been seeing him for six months!”
Junhui didn’t look convinced.
He was right, in the end, because Seungcheol broke things off with Jaebum only two weeks later. And then Seungcheol was single again, and Jeonghan had been single for far longer, and nothing was happening despite all his glaring. Despite Seungcheol’s hoping. Seungcheol was tired. His heart was tired.
It wasn’t long after that Yura asked him out. She liked him a lot. She wanted him to be her boyfriend.
But Junhui was right. Jeonghan never liked Seungcheol’s partners.
Seungcheol started dating someone. And Jeonghan decided to act on his feelings for once.
>>>
“Wake up! Hyung, wake up!”
Seungcheol is woken up by an elbow jabbing him in the stomach and a heavy body bouncing around on top of his sheets. He groans, annoyed immediately.
“Wake up, we’re all eating breakfast together!” Chan, then.
“How did you get in my room,” Seungcheol groans. He still hasn’t opened his eyes.
“Wonwoo-hyung let me in.” Of course.
By the time Chan has harassed Seungcheol into opening his eyes, Wonwoo is dressed and scrolling on his phone in the armchair in the corner, waiting. Chan shoves a hoodie and sweatpants into Seungcheol’s arms and tells him to hurry up.
“You can’t sleep the day away, hyung,” says Chan. “This is our vacation for the thirteen of us.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Seungcheol says, feeling chastised even though he didn’t do anything other than not be a morning person. He grabs the clothes and pads across the room to the bathroom.
When they go downstairs to the breakfast lounge, Seungcheol is immediately affronted to see that not even half of the guys are there yet. Before he can voice this, however, Chan pushes him down into the chair beside Mingyu, and Mingyu pushes a coffee into his hands.
It takes another full hour before all thirteen of them arrive. By that time, Seungcheol isn’t quite as mad about being woken up so early. They’re the loudest table, laughing at a stupid joke Chan made, and Seungcheol feels loose and good again. This is what they came here for.
Jeonghan is sitting down at the opposite end of the table. Seungcheol tries not to let his eyes wander towards him, but it’s hard. It’s always hard not to look at Jeonghan, despite whatever may be going on between them.
And it’ll always be hard. His emotions from last night have smoothed over, and in the more sober light of day, Seungcheol realizes that it doesn’t have to be hard. Not when Jeonghan had given Seungcheol an explicit pass to look at him all the time. Yet Seungcheol hadn't accepted it.
But it was complicated! It wasn’t- he’d never just say no-
It makes the coffee in his stomach feel sour, his heart twisted. He needs to talk to Jeonghan. If Jeonghan was serious- Seungcheol would never say no. He’d never say no. He hadn’t said no.
But it’s hard to talk to Jeonghan when he keeps avoiding him.
By the time they all get up to head to the slopes, Jeonghan has already disappeared from the table. And then, when Seungcheol has returned from grabbing his snow gear from his room, Jeonghan is already halfway up the ski lift with Seungkwan and Seokmin.
Irritation builds in Seungcheol throughout the day, his clear-headedness from the morning dissipating every time he sees the back of Jeonghan’s head. And even that is a rare occurrence. Jeonghan seems to have gone out of his way to ensure that if Seungcheol is on the slopes, then he’s on the lift, or back in the lodge, or just- anywhere Seungcheol isn’t.
It’s annoying, and childish, and Seungcheol is trying to enjoy his day and not let it bleed into his mood with the others. But it’s not fair. Jeonghan can’t just confess and expect Seungcheol to drop everything just because he said so, and then act like a kid who didn’t get what he wanted. It was so Jeonghan of him.
“You know, I understand what happened, but you’re kind of doing this to yourself,” says Jihoon, out of the blue, when they’re taking a break at the lounge, limbs exhausted and frozen from being on the slopes all day.
“What?” Seungcheol startles, coming out of his thoughts. He’d been staring into the fireplace, the flames imprinted into his vision as he looks away and to Jihoon.
“This whole thing with Jeonghan,” Jihoon says. He glances at Seungcheol. “Your thoughts are really loud.”
Seungcheol feels his face go hot. “I wasn’t-”
“Of course you were,” Jihoon says, giving him a look that says you can’t lie to me. Honestly, Seungcheol doesn’t even know why he tried. Jihoon is not one for bullshit. Seungcheol feels a pinprick of embarrassment. So maybe he hasn’t been as good at keeping his emotions under control as he’d thought. “You’re always thinking about him."
That’s like a small stab of a knife to the chest. It’s no less than he should have expected of Jihoon. It’s not even uncalled for.
“Yeah, well,” Seungcheol says, defensive anyway, not ready to be struck so bare. “He’s the one who-”
“He’s the one that did something about his feelings,” Jihoon cuts him off. “I know it wasn’t the perfect moment, but there was never going to be a perfect moment. I think part of the reason this has taken the both of you so long is because you were waiting for a perfect moment.”
The words settle. Hit.
There had always been exams, or Japan, or other people, or their jobs, or Seungcheol taking care of a new dog, or Jeonghan sick with the flu- or anything. A million things. Fear.
“I know the moment he chose was particularly imperfect,” Jihoon says. “But really, Seungcheol, are you holding it against him that much? Since when do you have so much pride?”
That startles a shocked laugh out of Seungcheol. “Wow,” he says.
Jihoon raises his eyebrows at him, like he knows he’s right. He is right. It’s not fun to hear.
It’s important to hear, though. The aggravation that Seungcheol has built up through the course of the day starts to slowly bleed out of him. It makes him feel tired. Wounded. “I wanted to talk to him,” he admits. “But he’s been avoiding me.”
Jihoon rolls his eyes. “You say that like you expect him not to avoid you.”
“I-” Seungcheol starts. Jihoon needs to stop tearing down all his arguments before he even says them. “If he- really meant it-”
“What, you expect him to come crawling back a second time? To do it better?” Jihoon says, and there’s an edge to his voice. “Your pride is really getting the best of you, Choi Seungcheol.”
Another direct hit. Seungcheol feels embarrassingly cowed.
He had reacted badly. Jeonghan may not have confessed in the best way, but- Seungcheol had reacted badly. Which had made Jeonghan react badly. And it’s not like he’s exactly been seeking out Jeonghan to fix it, either.
He bites at his lip. The fire is starting to warm him uncomfortably. His heart twists and flares, painful, like it’s burning up itself. He needs to talk to Jeonghan. He’s known all along.
He stands up.
“Good,” Jihoon says. He sits back on the couch and closes his eyes. “Please go put us all out of our misery so we can enjoy this trip.”
<<<
They had met in college, at the very tail end of their teenage years. They were fast friends, even though Jeonghan was shyer back then and Seungcheol was perhaps more brazen. It worked. They were balanced.
They were watching a drama on Jeonghan’s laptop late one night when they were meant to be studying, tucked deep in the library and sharing Seungcheol’s wired earbuds. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, especially in the hard wooden library chairs, but Jeonghan’s arm was pressed up against Seungcheol’s and it felt so nice that Seungcheol didn’t really want to move.
It was a show that Jeonghan was already halfway through. He’d pulled it up after getting only two paragraphs into an essay. He started watching silently with subtitles, until Seungcheol had offered his earbuds, but only if he was allowed to watch, too. It was a little too cute and sugar-sweet for Seungcheol’s taste — he preferred dramas that were actually, like, dramatic — but it was better than doing the four chapters of reading he was currently tasked with getting through.
Jeonghan sighed, his shoulder falling a little more heavily against Seungcheol’s. There was a romance scene on the screen between two of the main characters. It was corny, set during the first snowfall of winter — which, cliche — but Jeonghan seemed affected by it.
“Ah, isn’t that so romantic?” he whispered. His eyes flickered to Seungcheol’s.
A spark flashed inside his chest, and in the millisecond it took for the feeling to expand through Seungcheol’s entire body, heart suddenly fluttering like the wings of a baby bird, he decided- yeah, actually. It was.
>>>
Seungcheol is halfway through the lobby of the lodge when he realizes that he doesn't even know where Jeonghan is.
Well- all day Jeonghan has been where Seungcheol is not, so that means that if Seungcheol is here, at the lodge, then Jeonghan must be out on the mountain.
“Hey! Seungcheol!”
It’s not hard to run into any one of his twelve friends around here, except perhaps the one he’s actually looking for, but as he meets the eyes of Mingyu’s smiling face, Seungkwan beside him, he thinks they’re probably a good start. They’re walking into the lobby, the chill of the outdoors following them, snowflakes dusting the tops of their shoulders and hats.
“Hey,” Seungcheol says. He walks over to meet them. “Have you guys seen Jeonghan?”
Seungkwan’s expression sharpens slightly and Seungcheol feels a punch of anxiety. Come to think of it, Seungcheol isn’t sure he’s seen Seungkwan without Jeonghan this entire trip so far.
“I need to talk to him,” Seungcheol says, and something in his tone must pass a test, because Seungkwan softens slightly, even if his gaze remains heavy.
“He’s still out there with Minghao and Wonwoo,” Seungkwan says. “What do you want to talk to him about?”
“There’s something I need to apologize for,” Seungcheol says, deciding it’s best to just be honest.
“Oh, good,” says Mingyu, palpable relief spilling out of him. “I hate when you guys are fighting. It throws off the whole vibe.”
Mingyu, then, does not know the details about what happened. Seungkwan looks similarly appeased by this answer, even if his eyes carry a more knowing look.
“Well,” Seungkwan says, gesturing for the doors. Go. Now. “You might be able to catch him at the lift.”
It’s snowing lightly outside, the sky gentle and white, but Seungcheol feels tumultuous inside as he grabs his board and heads for the lift. Luckily, when he arrives, he thinks that fate might actually be on his side. There in the middle of the line are Minghao, Wonwoo, and Jeonghan.
Wonwoo is laughing at something Minghao is saying, and Jeonghan is smiling that benign smile of his, snow goggles hanging around his neck. Unluckily, he’s the first one to catch sight of Seungcheol, and the change in his expression is far more stark than Seungkwan’s had been.
“Oh, hey, hyung,” says Wonwoo, eyes brightening when he sees him. It’s a direct contrast to Jeonghan’s blank eyes, which aren’t looking at Seungcheol.
“Are you coming up with us? I haven’t seen you all day,” says Minghao.
You wouldn’t, if you’ve been with Jeonghan, Seungcheol thinks. “I-” he starts.
“It’s a little rude to cut the line, don’t you think?” Jeonghan’s voice is mild, like the way he says anything, really, but Seungcheol feels the sharp cut of it.
“I think it’s okay, hyung,” says Wonwoo, a little gently. None of the people around them are paying Seungcheol any attention. “He can fit on with us.”
But the line is moving quickly. “Actually,” Seungcheol says. He looks at Jeonghan. “I need to talk to you.”
Jeonghan goes blank again.
Seungcheol feels his first slip of self restraint. “Ah, please, Jeonghan-ah,” he says. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?” Jeonghan says, perfectly still, until the line forces him to move.
“I- I just need to talk to you,” Seungcheol says. “Please?”
“Hyung, maybe you should,” says Wonwoo.
Jeonghan’s eyes slide to Wonwoo’s. “I’ve been waiting in line too long to give up my spot.”
“We’ve been waiting five minutes,” says Minghao, less afraid of being blunt. “Just go talk to him and fix whatever you’ve been fighting about.”
“We’re not fighting,” says Jeonghan.
He knew Jeonghan wasn’t going to make this easy, but Seungcheol feels his second slip of self restraint. “Fine,” he says, and steps up closer so he’s standing next to Wonwoo. He puts his board down and straps it on. “I’ll come with you guys, then. If we’re not fighting, then you don’t have a problem with that, right?”
Jeonghan’s eyes lose a little of their blankness. His jaw sharpens, just slightly. Minghao sighs.
“That’s fine,” says Jeonghan. There’s only one group left in front of them getting on the lift. He turns his back to face forward, completely away from Seungcheol.
Fine, then. Seungcheol will just chase Jeonghan down the mountain if he has to.
Jeonghan quickly slips onto the chair lift first. Wonwoo goes to follow, Seungcheol close behind, when Minghao’s hand reaches out and grabs Wonwoo’s sleeve. As Wonwoo turns, Minghao gives Seungcheol a shove. He trips onto the lift, right next to Jeonghan. “Hey-!”
“We’ll get our own, actually,” says Minghao, gripping Wonwoo’s arm. He pulls down the safety bar before the attendant can do anything. It locks over their laps.
“What are you-” says Jeonghan, and tries to push it back up.
“Sorry, have fun!” says Minghao, and the lift keeps going as the attendant just watches, mouth open a little. Their chair proceeds forward and Minghao and Wonwoo get into the one behind them.
“Hey!” Jeonghan says again, rattling the safety bar as the lift keeps moving out of the platform and into the snowy open air.
Seungcheol puts his hands over the bar. “Jeonghan, stop it!”
“Don’t tell me what to do, Choi Seungcheol,” says Jeonghan. He doesn’t look at Seungcheol, and he doesn’t stop rattling the bar.
“What are you going to do if it opens? Jump?” They’re high up, ascending the mountain, the snowy ground growing farther away below them. The bar is probably secure, but Seungcheol doesn’t like how much it moves as Jeonghan jostles it. He tightens his hold over it, heart jumping into his throat.
“Yes,” says Jeonghan.
“Really, Jeonghan?” he says, not stopping the anger that finally bleeds into his voice. “You’d rather break your legs than be up here with me?”
“Yes,” Jeonghan says again, and Seungcheol loses the last of his self restraint.
“Okay,” he says, upset and beyond frustrated and wondering why he even tried. Jihoon was wrong about all of this. “Fine. Because I’m the bad guy here. Got it.”
“No, clearly that’s always me,” says Jeonghan through gritted teeth. He stops rattling the bar and, alarmingly, flattens his body as if to make to slide out beneath it instead.
“Jeonghan-!” Seungcheol says, grabbing his arm just as their entire chair goes swinging.
Seungcheol yells out, afraid for one terrifying moment that they are about to be ejected, somehow, until he realizes it’s because the lift itself has abruptly stopped moving.
The people in front of him are swinging too, and when he looks behind them, he sees Wonwoo and Minghao clutching each other.
“What’s going on?” says Jeonghan. His arm is rigid beneath Seungcheol’s hold. He’s stopped trying to slip out.
“It stopped,” says Seungcheol. “I- maybe they stopped because someone needed help getting on.”
“By nearly killing the rest of us?” says Jeonghan.
“You were trying to jump off just now,” Seungcheol says, even though he knows this actually has little to do with that. Fine, so it takes nearly dying for Jeonghan to realize he’d rather be safely trapped with Seungcheol? Fine.
“I was justified,” Jeonghan says, and slithers out of Seungcheol’s hold. He slides all the way to the farthest edge of the chair, away from him. Seungcheol tries not to let that hurt him, but it does anyway.
He sucks in a breath. “You know what, Jeonghan-”
“Attention guests,” an intercom announcement cuts through the snowy air, “Our chair lift is currently experiencing technical difficulties. We will have you moving as shortly as possible.”
It cuts off, and they swing for a moment longer. It continues to snow, cold flakes falling on Seungcheol’s face.
“Shit,” says Jeonghan, and for all Seungcheol had been trying to get him alone to talk to him, he can’t agree more.
<<<
There had been a moment when Jeonghan’s confession had hung between them. Suspended in the snowy air. For a moment, it just sounded like words.
Seungcheol’s ears started to ring.
He opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it. The words sunk into his brain and began rearranging all his molecules.
I’m in love with you.
The ringing in his ears turned into a roar.
Jeonghan’s eyes stared back at him. There was something going on in them that Seungcheol had never seen before. A vivid tension. They were wide in the light of the streetlight. He was still gripping Seungcheol’s arm.
“Seungcheollie,” he broke the silence, voice coming out as a kind of croak. “Aren’t you going to say something?”
Seungcheol felt floating, distant, like a snowflake that might swirl away. Yes, Seungcheol’s heart scrambled to say. Yes! Yes-
His phone buzzed again in his pocket.
Oh. Oh, fuck-
“I-” Seungcheol started. His tongue felt dry and twisted. His ears were still roaring. “You- but I’ve been seeing someone.”
Jeonghan’s grip stayed tight just for a moment. Then it went slack.
It wasn’t the right thing to say. It wasn’t how Seungcheol meant to say it. He was trying to sort Jeonghan’s confession with Yura’s question in his pocket. Emotions swelled too big within him, overwhelming. You know I’ve been dating someone, he meant to say, but I need to tell her I can’t be her boyfriend.
He couldn’t- cheating might be too strong of a word if they weren’t technically exclusive, maybe, but Yura wanted to be- and it wouldn’t be fair, to her or Jeonghan- or to Seungcheol’s own heart-
Hot panic licked through him. “Jeonghan-”
But Jeonghan’s eyes had changed, and maybe if he wasn’t standing in the direct light of the streetlamp, Seungcheol wouldn’t have noticed. Or maybe if he didn’t know Jeonghan as well as he did.
But he did know Jeonghan as well as he did, and Seungcheol saw the way the window of Jeonghan’s eyes had changed, had shuttered. There was something happening behind them that he couldn’t read.
“Oh,” said Jeonghan. “Yes.”
“Wait,” Seungcheol said, because Jeonghan hadn’t moved but there was a sense of him slipping away. “I just need to talk to her, to Yura, and-”
This time, Jeonghan did step away, fingers sliding from Seungcheol’s wrist completely, leaving his skin cold. Kkuma tugged on her leash around Seungcheol’s other wrist, whining.
“Wait, Jeonghan,” said Seungcheol, panicked, trying not to trip over Kkuma as she came running back to his feet. “I’m not saying-”
Jeonghan cut him off before he could say the word no. “But you’re seeing someone.” Jeonghan’s eyes flickered again, voice thin and face pale beneath Seungcheol’s thick beanie. He blinked, eyes cooling. “That’s where you were tonight.”
It sounded a bit like an accusation. Like Seungcheol had been somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be.
“If you knew that, then why’d you come all the way here right now to tell me-” Seungcheol started, defensive before he could help it. But no, wait, he didn’t want to fight. Jeonghan had just- he’d just confessed, and Seungcheol didn’t want to fight. “Wait, Jeonghan-ah, I’m not saying-”
“Never mind,” Jeonghan said, cold and stiff. A complete contrast to the way he’d been a moment ago, body snug against Seungcheol’s side, eyes wide open.
“What? Wait-” Seungcheol said again. Kkuma started pawing at his knees, yapping, chilly. Seungcheol absently tried to reach down to stop her, to soothe her, his eyes glued to Jeonghan as his heart thrashed against his ribcage.
“You’re seeing someone, so never mind,” Jeonghan said. His voice was distant, empty. He turned away.
“How can you-” Seungcheol was starting to feel out of control. How was Jeonghan making him feel like this was his fault? His tongue got ahead of him. “Did you expect me to immediately drop her when you said that?”
He did drop her, though, inside his head. He’d done it immediately, was already composing a way to let Yura down. Because this was Jeonghan. He was never going to pass up a chance with Jeonghan. But Jeonghan said nothing, and maybe that was all the answer Seungcheol needed.
“I just have to talk to her,” Seungcheol said, feeling like he was pleading and appeasing at the same time. “It wouldn’t be fair.”
But Jeonghan’s eyes were blank, and the thread of this conversation was starting to feel distressingly one-sided. Seungcheol felt his temper spark again. “I just don’t understand why the second I’m seeing someone, you decide to tell me-”
“Well it’s hard to find a second to tell you between one person and the next,” Jeonghan snapped. The snow was falling heavier now, coating Jeonghan’s shoulders. They were scrunched from cold. Kkuma was barking.
Junhui had said, at Hansol and Seungkwan’s housewarming party, that Jeonghan had been glaring at Jaebum all night. Jeonghan never liked anyone he dated.
“So you decided to sabotage my new relationship, and if I didn’t immediately go along with it, you have no interest?” Seungcheol shot back.
Jeonghan looked at him again, full in the face. His eyes flashed, real anger in them. “I didn’t say that.”
“Well then what are you saying?” Seungcheol said hotly. “Sorry I didn’t hang around waiting for you to be ready-”
Except, the thing is, he had waited. He’d waited after his last boyfriend, he’d waited when Jeonghan had partners, he waited for years. He would still be waiting, if Yura hadn’t made the move.
“Well clearly you’re not,” Jeonghan cut him off, and Seungcheol’s heart twisted like a knife with hurt, with new anger. How could Jeonghan say that? How could he say that without any feeling at all? “So never mind.”
“Jeonghan, I didn’t say-” But then Kkuma started barking in earnest, pawing at Seungcheol’s legs. Her fur was covered in snow. He hadn’t thought to put her sweater on her, hadn’t thought they’d be outside this long. Seungcheol’s head swam, panicked and messy.
Horribly, Jeonghan took Seungcheol’s beanie off his head and smacked it up against the chest of Seungcheol’s jacket. Seungcheol felt it like a punch to his actual heart. “You should take Kkuma inside, she’s cold.” Jeonghan’s eyes were sharp. Snow started dotting his dark hair immediately.
“Jeonghan, stop it-”
But Jeonghan said nothing else, just turned around on his heel and started walking, more briskly than Seungcheol had ever seen him, in the direction he’d appeared. New, hot panic flared inside Seungcheol, sending him tripping over Kkuma’s leash. Jeonghan couldn’t just walk away-
“Jeonghan! Jeonghan!”
But then Jeonghan turned a corner and was gone.
Seungcheol let out a growl of frustration, caught in Kkuma’s leash. From anger, from the terrible feeling in his chest like he’d been scraped open and his heart mashed around. Kkuma was barking, jumping up at him. Fuck. Fuck-
“Yoon Jeonghan!” he yelled again, even though Jeonghan was too far away by now to hear him.
>>>
The thing about chairlifts is that Seungcheol does not love them, but they’re necessary to the snowboarding experience. It’s generally a short trip up the mountain, anyway. He doesn’t usually have to think about the dozens of feet of empty air below him. The layer of snow adds a deceiving cushion, but not that deceiving. And he’s usually distracted by whomever he’s riding with.
Not that Jeonghan isn’t distracting, because his presence has always been a distraction to Seungcheol. But he’s decided to retreat into a stony silence, as stiff and unmoving as that silly pet rock of his. Except this doesn’t feel silly. This feels cold and terrible, and Seungcheol just wants to be on the ground.
Seungcheol closes his eyes against the snowflakes, against the cold wind. He doesn’t want to look down. If he does, it might make him sick.
The snow isn’t coming down heavily, but there is a very big difference between actively snowboarding and sitting still in freezing air. Cold seeps into the thickness of Seungcheol's jacket, through his sweatshirt underneath. He opens his eyes and glances at Jeonghan. His shoulders are scrunched, arms wrapped around himself and head tucked down into his chest, hood obscuring his face. He gets cold easily, and he has less padding over his bones than Seungcheol does. He must be freezing.
Worry flashes though Seungcheol, despite himself. “Jeonghan-ah,” he tries. “Aren’t you cold?”
Jeonghan looks up. He shoots Seungcheol a scathing look. “Of course I’m cold.”
Fine. Stupid question. Whatever.
They fall back into a silence, but it’s brief, like now that Jeonghan has admitted that he’s cold, he can’t go back to just sitting there.
“Did Minghao set this up somehow?” he says, glancing over his shoulder with a glare. His nose is a bright pink.
That startles a snort out of Seungcheol. “How could he have set this up?”
“I don’t know. He could have done a magic spell on this thing,” Jeonghan says. He talks quickly, tensely, like he’s looking for warmth in the friction of his vocal chords. “He’s always looked vaguely magical. Like an elf, or a wizard.”
“What?” Seungcheol says, breathing out a laugh of disbelief that this is what Jeonghan is saying right now.
Jeonghan shoots him another annoyed look, but for what, Seungcheol doesn’t even know. All of this, probably. Everything.
“No, I don’t think Minghao is responsible for the chairlift malfunctioning,” says Seungcheol, partly because it’s impossible and partly just to be contrary. He says it slowly, like Jeonghan is stupid.
Jeonghan’s eyes flash hotly. His shivering halts for the split second it takes to snap, “I really can’t stand you, Choi Seungcheol.”
Another bright slash of hurt that morphs immediately into anger. “That wasn’t what you were saying a week ago, Yoon Jeonghan.”
He sees the look in Jeonghan’s eyes the moment he receives the words, the way he freezes again, but in a different way than he did before. Seungcheol is immediately seized by regret.
“Wait,” Seungcheol starts.
Jeonghan starts to shiver hard, visibly. He looks away. “You’re a fucking jerk, Seungcheol.”
His voice lacks the heat of the moment before, like it's a little too real, and that, more than anything, fills Seungcheol with sudden, awful nausea.
How could Seungcheol have said that? Jeonghan’s love confession is not something he wants to be using as a weapon against him. It’s cruel. It’s horrible. It’s the exact opposite of what he sought out Jeonghan for.
“Jeonghan-ah,” he says, knowing he should have started with this. “Wait. I’m sorry.”
“I don’t care,” Jeonghan says. There’s a bite to his tone again.
“I just want to talk.” Seungcheol grips the safety bar in front of them tightly. He feels all unbalanced. “I didn’t mean to start fighting. I hate when we fight.”
Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, but he looks behind them, like he’s trying to see if they’re fixing the chairlift. There’s nothing to see except Wonwoo and Minghao huddled together for warmth. It seems to make Jeonghan shiver even more.
It’s unnerving. Seungcheol reaches out to him without thinking. “Jeonghan-ah, you’re so cold.”
“Don’t touch me,” Jeonghan says sharply, gaze cutting to him, the skin around his eyes a bright red. Seungcheol stops. “What do you even want to talk about?” His voice shivers. “You don’t talk to me about important things.”
Seungcheol frowns. “What?”
Jeonghan looks away from him, his face obscured by the side of his hood again. Jeonghan is breathing heavily beneath his coat, his entire body trembling. It’s distressing, and Seungcheol doesn’t know what he’s talking about, and he can’t stand it.
“Jeonghan-ah, what-”
“I didn’t know.” Jeonghan whips back around. His eyebrows are drawn fiercely, but the red around his eyes has turned shinier. “When I went and told you that night, I didn’t know you were dating someone.”
“What?” says Seungcheol. “But-”
“You never told me,” Jeonghan says. His breath comes out in a cloud in front of him. His voice shakes. “Nobody told me.”
“But- ” That doesn’t make sense. “You always know these things.”
“Well I didn’t this time,” Jeonghan snaps, reddened eyes flashing. It seems to be costing him something to say this. “Your job had been so time-consuming after your promotion, I thought that’s what you were spending all your time on.” He lets out a breath of air. “You said you were talking to someone from work.”
“She- she was from work,” Seungcheol says. Yura, texting him that night. Jeonghan, over his shoulder, asking who he was talking to. Someone from work. Truthfully, he’d assumed Jeonghan had read the text.
It’s not the right thing to say, because something behind Jeonghan’s eyes shutters again.
“Wait, no, don’t,” Seungcheol says, panicked, before Jeonghan can lock himself up. This time he does reach for his arm. “Jeonghan. If you didn’t know I’d been dating someone, then why didn’t you tell me that?”
The glassiness in Jeonghan’s eyes grows sharp edges. “It was already humiliating enough, wasn’t it?”
“What?”
Jeonghan lets out a mirthless laugh. He drags the back of his gloved hand across his face, creating little angry red streak marks from the material over his already cold-bitten nose. “You’re an idiot.”
“Jeonghan-”
“You said it yourself,” Jeonghan says. “I always know these things.”
And he hadn’t known that.
“You never mentioned it,” Jeonghan says accusingly. He swipes at his face again with his glove, but it only succeeds in smearing snowflakes across his face. His cheeks and nose are a very angry pink. “Not that you ever mention these things to me, but- none of the others did either.” He lets out another unhappy laugh. “Imagine being the last one to know, after a fucking love confession.”
Seungcheol’s chest flames with shame, with regret- he shouldn’t have assumed those things. He shouldn’t have immediately thought the worst of Jeonghan.
He and Jeonghan never talk about their dating lives with each other, but maybe if they did- not only could this have been avoided, perhaps they’d never need to discuss anyone else at all.
Seungcheol had taken Jeonghan’s late night confession and interpreted it all wrong. Jeonghan had tried handing over his heart, and Seungcheol hadn’t treated it with any of the sensitivity it deserved.
“I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says. Snowflakes patter against the side of Jeonghan’s hood. His arm shivers in Seungcheol’s hold. “I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed. I shouldn't have said those things.” He squeezes Jeonghan’s arm lightly. “I should have told you, or explained myself better. I’m sorry.”
Jeonghan doesn’t say anything. He shivers, but he doesn’t pull away. His face is all wet in a way that it very much shouldn’t be in this bitingly cold, snowy weather.
“Ah, Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol says, pained. “Your face is going to get frostbite.”
Without thinking, he starts to take his gloves off. He sets them in his lap, then lifts his warm hands up to Jeonghan’s face.
He stops just before he touches his skin. “Can- can I-”
Jeonghan looks at him, slowly. Then he nods.
Seungcheol presses his dry, warm hands to Jeonghan’s wet cheeks. The skin is a vibrant, angry red under his fingers, horribly cold. Jeonghan shivers under his touch.
“Your face is freezing,” Seungcheol says, frowning and wiping the wetness under Jeonghan’s eyes with his fingers. Then he presses the whole of his warm palms to his cheeks, cupping as much of his face as he can. It makes Jeonghan suck in a breath.
“That burns,” Jeonghan says, letting out a laugh like it startles him. Seungcheol presses the pads of his thumbs to his frozen nose.
It seems to be helping, but he’s still trembling terribly. Seungcheol moves closer, presses their sides together, snowboards overlapping at their feet.
Jeonghan doesn’t say anything else, but he lets Seungcheol warm him until his own hands start to go cold and red. He doesn’t pull them away.
“I’m really sorry,” Seungcheol says again, because it needs to be said again. He slides his hands to warm Jeonghan’s ears, finding some relief for his cold fingers under Jeonghan’s wool hat. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know,” Jeonghan says. He closes his eyes under Seungcheol’s hands. “I’m sorry, too.”
Does your confession still stand? Seungcheol wants to say, but fears it will be a dumb question. But then he thinks that lack of communication is what got them in this mess in the first place. Years of it. It’s worth looking dumb, for Jeonghan. Jeonghan has already seen him look dumb a million times.
His heart pounds suddenly, nerves crawling up his spine.
“Jeonghan-” he starts.
The chairlift suddenly jerks forward. Seungcheol and Jeonghan yelp loudly.
The lift is propelled back into motion, and both of Seungcheol’s gloves go sliding off his lap and tumbling into the snow below.
“No!” Seungcheol shouts. He lets go of Jeonghan to try to grab them, but it's useless. They land like two little red dots in the snow. Seungcheol’s arm dangles down as the chairlift keeps moving, finally bringing them up the mountain.
Next to him, Jeonghan laughs. The sound of it feels like relief to Seungcheol’s ears.
-
When they get to the top of the mountain, Seungcheol doesn’t know why he’s surprised when Jeonghan hops off the lift and gets straight to sailing right back down.
“Wait- Jeonghan!”
Seungcheol tries to hop after him, but Jeonghan is more skilled than he is and gains momentum far more quickly. For all that he was about to shiver apart on the lift, he boards back down like he’s in top condition. Or like he’s trying to flee.
Yoon Jeonghan, Seungcheol decides, bare hands freezing and snow in his eyes because he hadn’t thought to grab his goggles, is the most annoying person in the entire world.
Jeonghan doesn’t stop at the bottom, either. He’s halfway back to the lodge by the time Seungcheol is detaching himself from his board.
Seungcheol bursts through the door, sweaty and cold at the same time. Chest heaving, he scans the giant lobby.
Jeonghan is on the couch that Seungcheol and Jihoon were sitting on earlier, near the big fireplace. He’s curled up on the spot closest to the fire, still fully in his jacket. Seungcheol stomps over to him.
“What was that for?” he demands.
Placidly, Jeonghan looks up at him. “I was cold.”
To be fair, his cheeks are stained a painful red and he’s still visibly shivering quite hard. Seungcheol’s indignation melts away and he immediately starts shucking his jacket off.
He drapes it over Jeonghan’s shoulders and tucks the sides over his own coat, making sure it’s secure. “Don’t move,” he says, even though Jeonghan has given zero indication that he was planning to move. He bolts over to the free coffee station on the other side of the lobby.
He tears a cocoa bag and empties it into a mug before filling it with hot water and giving it a stir, then hurries back to Jeonghan. He pushes the mug into his hands. “Drink this,” he says. Then he moves to the fire and holds his hands in front of the flames. Once they’re sufficiently warmed, he turns back around.
“Can I?” he asks, like he did on the chairlift, and holds his hands up near Jeonghan’s face again.
Jeonghan nods again, mug tucked to his chest.
Seungcheol puts his hands to his cheeks. They’re still so cold. He presses his hands to every part of Jeonghan’s face, to his ears, his neck, until his shivering starts to wane and his skin begins to warm again. His hair, freed from his hat, falls around Seungcheol’s hands.
Seungcheol probably stands there longer than necessary, holding Jeonghan’s face. Finally, Jeonghan’s skin is warm enough that it would be silly to stand there any longer. He pulls his hands away.
“Drink that,” Seungcheol says again. Jeonghan’s cheeks are still a flaming red, but he looks better now.
“Your hands have been in the way,” Jeonghan says, but he brings the mug up to his lips and takes a sip.
Without anything left to do, Seungcheol sits down next to him. His hands tingle from being on Jeonghan’s skin for so long. His heart rate has slowed after the chase, but not completely. Jeonghan lowers his mug. He looks at Seungcheol, tilting his head slightly. Dark strands fall over his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Jeonghan-ah,” Seungcheol says again, a little because he doesn’t know what else to say, and a little because he really wants to make sure Jeonghan knows.
Jeonghan lowers his eyes. “I know,” he says. “You can stop apologizing.” He looks away, tightens his fingers around his mug. “It was my fault, too. I should have told you I didn’t know you were seeing someone. I freaked you out, didn’t I? By backtracking so fast? I know that now.” He starts tapping his thumb against the handle of the mug. He doesn’t meet Seungcheol’s eyes. “I know that you weren’t trying to reject me.”
“I wasn’t,” Seungcheol says quickly, heart picking up.
Jeonghan’s cheeks pinken slightly again at that, but in a warm way. He still doesn’t look at Seungcheol, eyes focused intensely on his mug. “It was just-” It seems to take a real effort for him to say it. “-humiliating.”
Seungcheol imagines telling Jeonghan he’s in love with him. He imagines offering Jeonghan the most tender, fragile piece of him. And then he imagines being met with the unexpected information that Jeonghan had been seeing someone else all along. He imagines being told like he already knows.
“Seungkwan was there when I got home,” Jeonghan continues. He still doesn’t look at Seungcheol. “He made me tell him what happened. And I realized he knew you’d been dating someone for weeks. Everyone knew.”
You didn’t tell me, Jeonghan had said on the ski lift. Nobody told me.
“He said he never told me because it hadn’t seemed serious. He knew I wasn’t- when you were with the last guy you dated-” Jeonghan looks like he’s forcing his words, like it’s a struggle. “Maybe it’s nice of them that they all wanted to- shield me, I suppose, but it didn’t feel that way.”
Fuck. It had just always felt like a tender subject between them. Like to tell Jeonghan, personally, would be to cross out Seungcheol’s own name from a list he had always hoped Jeonghan had him on. And the fact that none of the others told him… Seungcheol can understand how the kindness would feel sad, or pathetic.
“It wasn’t serious,” Seungcheol says. “I hadn’t even told everyone, really. It was just, that night, she had asked to make it serious. It was part of why you caught me so off guard.”
That doesn’t look like it comforts Jeonghan at all. “I said no,” Seungcheol adds quickly. “I ended it.”
“I know,” Jeonghan says, expression neutralizing a little. “It’s why everyone’s been coddling you. And why you’ve been hiding behind Jihoon, because you told him everything. And Soonyoung has been giving you sad eyes because he was probably at Jihoon’s place and overheard everything.”
Seungcheol gawks at him.
Jeonghan lifts his chin a little. “You see why it hurt my pride that I didn’t know? You’re not good at hiding things, Choi Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol can’t help but snort a little at the ridiculousness of it. At the truth of it. Jeonghan’s tone is joking, for the most part, but it seems pride hasn’t only been in Seungcheol’s way.
They fall into silence for a moment. It’s the afternoon, so most people are out on the slopes and the lobby is mostly empty. The fire crackles warmly next to them, and Seungcheol feels the exhaustion of the day setting into his bones. He’s tired of pride, of walls, of miscommunication.
“Why did you choose that night?” he asks.
Jeonghan’s got a knee pulled up to his chest, his half-filled mug balanced on top of it. He doesn't respond for a moment, staring at the fire. It lasts for so long that Seungcheol’s heart starts to sink a little, thinking that Jeonghan might pretend he didn’t hear him.
It’s a good question. An important question, to Seungcheol. Why that night, of all the hundreds of nights they’ve known each other? Why the late hour? Why the surprise?
There’s no such thing as a perfect moment, Jihoon had said. But why did Jeonghan think that particular moment was the right one?
“I made a goal,” Jeonghan says, just when Seungcheol thinks he’s really going to ignore him. He turns his head halfway from the fire, doesn’t meet Seungcheol’s eyes. “When you were seeing Jaebum. If you broke up with him, I’d tell you.”
Seungcheol’s heart feels like it's in his throat. Shit. Jeonghan lowers his mug and presses his chin to his knee instead. He still doesn’t look at Seungcheol. “I was so tired of waiting,” he says, and there’s an exhaustion in his voice when he says it. “Things were always getting in the way. But then when you did break up with him, I couldn’t just do it right away. You were with him for a while.”
“Just six months,” says Seungcheol.
“That’s a long time,” says Jeonghan softly. “It felt like a long time. I couldn’t just- if you were getting over him.”
But Seungcheol wasn’t, not really. It’s something that made agreeing to go out with Yura so easy. But to think of Jeonghan, waiting for him to be over it, or to be out of the rebound period, waiting for his chance-
“I didn’t tell anyone I was going to do it,” Jeonghan says. “I didn’t really think it would go wrong. Probably if I had, they’d have warned me you’d started dating someone else.” He rubs his chin against his knee a little. “Or maybe they’d have told me it was stupid.”
The words feel like a papercut. “It wasn’t stupid,” Seungcheol says because he can’t help it.
Jeonghan glances at him, and his expression is unexpectedly derisive. “I was trying to be romantic, Seungcheol,” he says, as if that’s all the explanation he needs. “It’s winter, so- so I decided to wait for the first snow.”
And Seungcheol realizes- oh. The first snow. Oh no. Everyone knows that if you confess during the first snow, your love is supposed to last forever. Shit. That is romantic.
There’s no such thing as a perfect moment, but- Jeonghan had really found one.
“Oh,” Seungcheol says softly. “Jeonghan-”
But Jeonghan shakes his head, like Seungcheol’s soft voice is intolerable to him. “It doesn’t matter. You didn’t follow the script. You didn’t get it! You were supposed to get it. You’re romantic, Seungcheol.” He sounds like he’s trying to be derisive again and failing.
“I am,” Seungcheol says immediately. It sounds kind of stupid, but he is, he will be, especially for Jeonghan. “I just didn’t realize that was what you were doing. It was the middle of the night. It caught me off guard.”
“It’s not my fault the sky decided to snow for the first time in the middle of the night,” Jeonghan sniffs.
Seungcheol doesn’t know what to say to that. In Jeonghan’s script, it was movie-perfect. But it didn’t match up at all with his own.
Jeonghan seems to deflate a little in his silence. He presses his face back into his knee. “I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s not your fault. You were just trying to do what you thought was right. That’s romantic.” He sighs. “That’s Seungcheollie romance.”
Seungcheol’s heart kicks up a little. He presses his palms into the tops of his thighs. Sweaty, suddenly. “Is it- it’s not too late, then?”
Jeonghan looks back up at him, like the question startles him. A strand of hair falls across his face. “No,” he says. Then he looks at Seungcheol a little like he’s stupid. “Of course not. Were you even listening?”
That’s fair. But still. “We’ve had so many misunderstandings,” Seungcheol explains. “I need to make sure.”
Jeonghan softens a little at that. Then he nods.
“Maybe, can we,” Seungcheol starts. He can feel his heart start to pulse under his skin. “We can do- another shot? Maybe that was just like, a rehearsal.”
Jeonghan lets out a breathy laugh. “A rehearsal.”
“Look, it’s even snowing outside.” He points at the giant glass windows. The snow is still coming down, picturesque in front of the mountains.
“You’re really going to make me go back out in the cold?” Jeonghan says, because he can’t make anything easy. “After I almost froze to death?”
“No,” Seungcheol says, feeling his face heat. He huffs. “Jeonghannie.”
“What?” says Jeonghan. “Are you going to make me confess a second time, too? When I haven’t heard it from you once?”
He’s deflecting, clearly. Seungcheol can see the way his fingers flex, shakily, around his mug. Seungcheol wraps his hands around them, this time. He takes the mug, which has gone lukewarm, and sets it down on the coffee table in front of them. “Jeonghan,” he says, and faces him.
Jeonghan just looks at him, eyes bright beneath his hair, feverish. Seungcheol can feel the tremor in his hand. He squeezes it. He doesn’t want Jeonghan to have a reason to shiver, to shake, any more today. I was so tired of waiting, he’d said.
He reaches forward with his other hand and pushes the strand of hair out of Jeonghan’s face, tucks it behind his ear. He’s so beautiful, winter-chapped face and all. Seungcheol lets his hand slide down to gently cup Jeonghan’s cheek. His nerves bat at him, but he pushes them down.
So what if it’s not the first snow? So what if it’s the hundredth? Seungcheol loves Jeonghan, and Jeonghan is tired of waiting. Seungcheol has always known his lines.
“I’m in love with you, Yoon Jeonghan,” he says, finally. “I’ve been in love with you for years.”
Seungcheol can feel the sensation of Jeonghan’s cheek physically heating under his hand. It’s a sight to behold, really. Seungcheol’s heart pounds, filling like a balloon.
“I’m sorry I never said it sooner,” Seungcheol says, brushing his thumb over his cheek. “Really, I love you so much.”
“See,” Jeonghan says, tremulously, eyes on Seungcheol’s. “See, this is how you were supposed to respond that night.”
Yoon Jeonghan is the most difficult person on earth. Seungcheol is so in love with him. He lets go of Jeonghan’s hand and brings his palm up to Jeonghan’s other cheek. Jeonghan takes a deep breath. Closes his eyes.
“Seungcheol, you have spent half of today with your hands on my face. If you don’t kiss me-”
Seungcheol leans in and cuts him right off, kissing him soundly on the mouth in this ski lodge lobby. It’s not the first snow, but what does it matter? Jeonghan immediately presses into him, lips soft and tasting of chocolate. His hands snake up Seungcheol’s chest, gripping the collar of his hoodie, pulling him closer. Seungcheol’s entire body feels full of light, like it might just float away for real this time.
It’s perfect, even if it’s not. It’s Jeonghan, and that’s all that matters.
-
The thirteen of them all have dinner together that night, and it’s not that Seungcheol and Jeonghan formally plan on telling all of them about this very, very new relationship of theirs, but they also don’t make any effort to hide it. After the day they’ve had, Seungcheol doesn’t really have the energy, and Jeonghan has even less. Besides, it’s been a long time coming, and Seungcheol doesn’t really want to let go of Jeonghan’s hand.
“Hyungs!” says Mingyu, face lighting up like a Christmas tree when he sees their hands clasped between them. “Finally!”
“Than god,” Junhui says, letting out the longest sigh ever, like his own shoulders have been relieved of a deep personal burden. Then he grins brightly at them. Seungcheol doesn’t really feel like dissecting all these reactions, so he just tightens his grip on Jeonghan’s hand and finds a spot for them down the far end of the long table.
“To Jeonghan and Seungcheol!” Seokmin says when the first round of drinks arrives. He holds his glass up and, mortifyingly, everyone else follows suit. “Who are finally in love!”
“They’ve been in love,” says Jihoon. He’s down the other side of the table, so he's too far away for Seungcheol to be able to kick him.
“Yah, stop it,” says Jeonghan, keeping his glass firmly on the table. “It’s not that big of a deal.”
The table immediately breaks into an uproar.
“Your fight nearly tore this family apart!” says Chan, still holding up his glass, only this time in outrage.
“You have a lot of gall, Yoon Jeonghan,” Seungkwan says, narrowing his eyes. Jeonghan merely shrugs.
Soonyoung points at Seungcheol. “I watched you cry over him when he went to Japan!”
“Hey!” Seungcheol says, face immediately flaming. “I didn’t say it wasn’t a big deal!”
“It is a big deal,” says Hansol. He says it simply, genuinely, in a way not even Jeonghan can be mad at. “Congrats, hyungs.”
Seungcheol feels his face warm again. The attention is as nice as it is embarrassing.
“It might not have even happened if it wasn’t for your little ski lift trick,” Jeonghan says, looking at Minghao. It’s unclear if he’s thanking him or accusing him.
Seungcheol also doesn’t know if he’s talking about Minghao locking them in the chair together, or the magic he had claimed Minghao used to stop the ski lift. He doesn’t ask. Either way, Minghao rolls his eyes.
“Good, then,” he says.
“Of course, we almost died, trapped for hours-”
“Hours?” says Wonwoo, frowning, one of the steak appetizers halfway into his mouth. “It was like, fifteen minutes.”
“I literally almost froze to death. You’re a liar, Jeon Wonwoo,” Jeonghan says. Honestly, Seungcheol is inclined to agree.
“Seungcheol is a furnace, you didn’t have to be cold,” Minghao shoots back. Honestly, Seungcheol is inclined to agree with that, too.
“Sounds like he wasn’t cold for long,” says Joshua, sending a coy smile Jeonghan’s way. Surprisingly, that’s what finally gets Jeonghan’s cheeks to turn pink.
“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says, because this entire night cannot be spent squabbling over — celebrating? — their new relationship. He puts his hand on Jeonghan’s thigh beneath the table. “I heard Seungkwan wiped out on one of the runs today.”
Seungkwan squawks indignantly, and the table breaks into another uproar. Jeonghan puts an extra piece of steak on Seungcheol’s plate.
There’s nothing like the thirteen of them together, indeed.
-
The rest of the trip is like a dream. If it’s a dream to be harassed by eleven of his friends every day for being in love. But Seungcheol is so happy he can’t even complain. The slopes are much more fun when Jeonghan isn’t avoiding him.
“Choi Seungcheol, watch out!”
Well, maybe.
Seungcheol turns around just in time to see Jeonghan slow down enough so that Seungcheol’s not in any real danger, but not enough to not send him flailing back into the snow as Jeonghan lands on top of him with an oof . Seungcheol groans.
“Yoon Jeonghan, that’s not funny,” Seungcheol says, coughing out of his flattened lungs. Jeonghan giggles on top of him.
“It’s funny,” Jeonghan says, squeezing his arms around Seungcheol, tightly, before he pushes himself back up without any sort of struggle. He holds a hand out to help Seungcheol up.
As Jeonghan pulls him up, Seungcheol realizes snowflakes dot the front of his snow goggles.
“Hey, wait,” Seungcheol says as Jeonghan lets go of him. He tugs on Jeonghan’s jacket to reel him back in. “It’s snowing.”
“Ah, Seungcheollie-” Jeonghan tries to pull away, suddenly going shy, like every time. “You don’t have to keep doing this.” But it’s weak. Seungcheol pulls him back, and Jeonghan stops fighting when Seungcheol pushes his snow goggles up.
Seungcheol is romantic. He can match Jeonghan’s romance. He’ll make it up to him.
That first night after they’d gotten together, after their dinner with the rest of the guys, they’d been on their way back to their rooms when Seungcheol, catching a glimpse of the snow falling in the lamplight outside, was struck with inspiration.
“Hey!” said Jeonghan when Seungcheol suddenly broke away from the others and pulled him outside onto one of the balcony overlooks. “What’re you doing, it’s freezing-”
He went quiet as Seungcheol pressed in close and kissed him. Everything so brand new that Seungcheol’s hands were sweaty, fingers shaking as he clutched Jeonghan’s waist.
When he pulled away, there were snowflakes dotting Jeonghan’s dark hair. Seungcheol took his beanie off and put it on his head.
“Ah- Cheol,” Jeonghan said, blinking like he was coming back to himself. He looked flustered. “I told you we didn’t have to reenact this!”
“I’m not,” said Seungcheol, pushing the hair out of Jeonghan’s eyes and tucking it beneath the beanie. “I just want to kiss you in the snow.” He caught Jeonghan’s eye. “Was it romantic, though?”
Jeonghan smacked him in the chest, but Seungcheol could see the way he was blushing in the outside lights. Seungcheol laughed and tugged him back inside before he could get too cold.
So, every time it snowed, Seungcheol has been obligated to kiss him.
He kisses him now, at the bottom of the slope, jackets pressed tougher and snowboards overlapping. It’s probably not a terribly advisable spot, but Seungcheol doesn’t really care. He wants to kiss Jeonghan everywhere, now that he can.
There’s the sound of boards coming to a sharp halt in the snow next to them, and then the sound of exaggerated retching.
Jeonghan finishes the kiss, then leans down and packs together a snowball. He throws it and it hits Chan square in the chest. Jeonghan has always been stupidly athletic. Seungcheol’s hits Wonwoo on the edge of his shoulder.
“Have some respect,” says Jeonghan. “You won’t be laughing when it’s you two.”
“What?” says Chan, but Wonwoo’s face turns an impressively vivid red.
Jeonghan grabs Seungcheol and turns toward the direction of the ski lift.
Seungcheol had some trepidation getting back on it the first time, but luckily there have been no more technical difficulties. Besides, Minghao was right; if Jeonghan gets cold up there, Seungcheol will keep him warm.
“Jeonghannie,” he says, getting an idea. He nudges Jeonghan on the arm as they approach the lift. “We should have been kissing on there, too.”
“Don’t even joke about that, Seungcheol,” says Jeonghan. But Seungcheol can see he’s smiling.
-
“Hey,” Jeonghan says. “That’s my seat.”
He says it to Soonyoung, who’s claimed the passenger seat in Seungcheol’s car for the ride home. Seungcheol hadn't even bothered telling him to move. Soonyoung was never going to listen to him easily, even though this is Seungcheol’s car.
“Ugh,” Soonyoung says, getting out of the car without any argument. “You two are going to be so annoying now that you’re dating.”
“This has always been my seat,” Jeonghan says, and sits down. “Love you, Soonyoungie.” He pulls the door shut. Through the window, Seungcheol sees Soonyoung start to drift toward Minghao’s car.
“The other kids are just going to crowd in the backseat,” says Seungcheol. He came to start the car and warm it up.
“I know,” Jeonghan says. He unzips his coat, gets comfortable. He’s wearing the beanie Seungcheol gave him days ago. “Can’t I have five minutes of alone time with you?”
“Of course,” Seungcheol says. His stomach flutters. Jeonghan can have all the time he wants. He leans forward over the center console. “Do you wanna…”
“I want to talk about how you cried when I went to Japan,” Jeonghan says.
Seungcheol jolts and pulls back. “What? No!” he says. He forgot about being mad at Soonyoung for letting that slip. He scowls. “You were never supposed to know about that.”
“Well, I do now,” Jeonghan says. It’s not mocking, though. Instead, there’s something softer in his voice. He reaches for Seungcheol’s hand.
“I don’t want to talk about it,” Seungcheol says anyway. It’s embarrassing. But Jeonghan just gives him a tender look.
“Ah, Seungcheollie, don’t you know?” he says. He holds Seungcheol’s free hand over the center console. Cradles it, like it’s precious. “We’re going to talk about it all.”
His eyes are clear, open.
“Oh,” Seungcheol says. Slowly, his hand relaxes inside of Jeonghan’s. It’s warm. “Okay.”
After all these years, that sounds like a good start.