Chapter Text
They don’t talk about it.
Jae really didn’t mean to avoid the conversation he knows they badly need to have; it’s just that he’s very terrible at talking about feelings. Especially feelings he still does not quite understand.
He likes Wonpil, that much he’s certain. If this whole thing happened in a different, more normal circumstance, he might even say he’s in love. Granted, he’s never really been in love before. But all the obvious signs are there: Wonpil makes him smile despite himself, makes him want to be a better person, makes him start to think that maybe the happiness he’s been looking for has been available to him all along, free for the taking – he just needs to believe that he deserves it. And Wonpil makes him want to deserve it.
It’s the “what’s next?” that makes it complicated.
As it happens, Jae is leaving for home in four days (exactly on Christmas day, because it was the cheapest flight at the time he booked his trips). Though, if he’s being honest, the concept of “home” is getting blurrier by the day. It’s not like he’s anchored to anything or anyone in L.A. It’s the place he knows best, knows like the back of his hand, but it’s not the place he wants to return to at the end of a long, tiring day. Isn’t that what home is supposed to feel like?
Jae directs all his frustration at the scarf he’s knitting – or, well, trying to knit. It was only supposed to be his practice scarf, a simple strip of stockinette rows using a single ball of cranberry-red yarn. But a few days before Christmas he realizes he hasn’t gotten Wonpil a gift and figures it’d be a sweet gesture to give him the very first thing he created with his own hands. Plus, it seemed poetic that he came here because of the knitted sweaters and would leave Wonpil with a knitted scarf. Or something. Jae is also very terrible at being sweet.
Not that he’s any better at knitting. He got the mechanics of it pretty quickly and the pattern he’s using is supposed to be the easiest one, but he’s learned that yarn seems to have a mind of its own. It’s like it can detect when Jae is too frustrated or too distracted or too aggressive and resists his manipulation, strands landing in places he does not want them to.
Jae is losing his mind over a particularly problematic row when Wonpil makes him put on his coat and practically drags him out of the house to shop for Christmas decorations.
“Wonpil, you do know we could just shop for anything online now, right?”
“Yes, but where’s the fun in that?” Wonpil retorts, mouth still stuffed with the toast he made Jae pay for.
There’s no fun in going shopping during the busiest week of the year either, Jae wants to say, but again it is impossible to argue with Wonpil at his cheeriest, most Wonpil state, so he simply heaves a defeated sigh.
Apparently the entire population of Seoul all decided to do their Christmas shopping today, so Wonpil brings them instead to a quaint alley near Hongdae that houses a line of vintage shops. They enter a warehouse shop of surplus goods, and Wonpil sprints straight to the holiday section. Jae takes a shopping cart and trails behind him, marveling both at the assortment of products in display and in the way Wonpil seems to have the whole place memorized. He accidentally discovered the store when he was in college, he tells Jae while trying on a tinsel hat; fell in love with how it never runs out of hidden treasures and he makes it a point to drop by every Christmas season.
“They always have a box of vintage ornaments on that side. Let’s go,” Wonpil says as he takes Jae’s ungloved hand and intertwines their fingers. The feel of Wonpil’s hand in his reminds Jae of that night after the wedding, walking by the frozen lake as he listens to Wonpil bare his first heartbreak. It was too dark to see anything then, but even without seeing his face, Jae knew it wasn't an easy thing to open up about. It makes him want to be brave, too.
A jukebox at the corner plays What a Wonderful World and for the first time in his life, Jae thinks he finally understands the charm of Christmas. It's a celebration of life's little miracles, Wonpil once told him, beaming as he taught Jae how to purl. Maybe it's time he made a miracle of his own.
---
Christmas morning comes and Jae spends the entirety of it procrastinating from packing for his early evening flight. Instead, he finishes up the scarf and thinks about Wonpil.
They still haven’t talked about what happened at the lake. There were several instances in the past week where Jae would find Wonpil looking at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to open the topic. But Jae just could never find the courage to do it, especially since he still wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say.
Jae looks at his phone and checks the time. Roughly four hours to go till his flight, and he still hasn’t packed. He sighs. Better get it over and done with. He walks out of the bedroom and finds Wonpil in the kitchen, cutting up carrots while humming All I Want for Christmas is You. Jae walks up behind him, but Wonpil is too focused to notice his presence.
“What are you making?”
Wonpil jumps slightly at the sound of his voice. “Oh, you’re up! I’m making you kimbap, in case you’re allergic to all the airplane food.”
Jae snorts. “That is very likely.”
Wonpil turns to face him and Jae realizes they were too close, close enough that he could see the nervousness in Wonpil’s eyes. He thinks he sees something else there, too. Something like longing.
Wonpil gulps and blinks at him. “Did... did you want to say something?”
“Oh, right. I just wanted to give you this, before I leave.”
Wonpil stares down at the scarf and scrunches his nose. Jae is just about to ask him what he thinks when he realizes Wonpil is actually sniffing and trying to stop tears from falling.
“That bad, huh?” Jae says sheepishly. Perhaps he should’ve just bought a proper gift, after all.
“No! It’s not that! It’s not… not bad at all. It’s just that –” Sniff. “–you got this whole section wrong,” Wonpil finishes with a mischievous smirk, though his voice and his red-rimmed eyes still betray his sadness.
Jae snatches the scarf from his hand. “Okay that’s it, I’m taking it back.”
“Noooooooo Jae I was just joking! Jae! That’s miiiine,” Wonpil whines, crossing his arms as he glares at Jae through his teary eyes. He pouts, and it’s the most adorable darn thing Jae has ever seen and in this moment he realizes there’s no use trying to skirt around the truth: he’s in love with Kim Wonpil.
It’s a very peculiar thing, love. For days on end, he was trying to ignore it and rationalize what he’s feeling, because it’s what always worked for him. Jae always functioned best with logic, with categorizing things and placing correct labels and following the course of action that makes the most sense. And this? This thing he’s about to do makes absolutely no sense, but Jae finds that he really doesn’t care.
So he wraps the scarf around Wonpil’s neck and tugs gently, pulling him closer so that their faces are almost touching. He presses their lips together, just briefly, then pulls away to see Wonpil smiling that wide, blinding smile that knocks the wind out of him and ah, fuck it. Jae kisses him again, and again, and again, and he thinks he can spend a million lifetimes just kissing Wonpil like this, actually.
It’s Wonpil who pulls away eventually, raising an eyebrow at him. “Don’t you have a flight in four hours?”
“This is more important.”
“What? Kissing?”
“Nope, not just kissing. Kissing you.”
“That’s sweet, but you really do have a flight in four hours.”
Jae ignores him and tries to lean in for another kiss but Wonpil dodges, still staring him down to demand an explanation.
“Ugh, you’re so annoying! I’m not taking the flight, okay?” Jae throws his hands up in frustration.
“What do you mean you’re not taking the flight?”
“It means I’m not taking the flight. I’m not leaving.” Jae tries to sound as certain as he can, as though he didn’t just make the decision five seconds ago, but Wonpil sees through the act because now he’s giving Jae a stern look with hands on his hips.
“Park Jaehyung. What are you doing?”
Jae exhales defeatedly. “I don’t know, Wonpil, okay? I like you and I like it here and I don’t want to leave. I wasn’t sure of it before but I am now. I know it sounds stupid but whatever. What’s wrong with taking a risk, yeah? I don’t have anything to lose, anyway.”
Wonpil’s expression softens. “You like me?”
“God, Wonpil, so much.” Jae cups Wonpil’s cheek, gently, and takes a deep breath. “I wanted to kiss you, when we were by the lake. Actually, no, I’ve been wanting to kiss you way before that. It’s just that… I’ve never felt like this before, you know? Like my heart would burst if I didn’t see your face every morning, like I could spend the rest of my life just listening to you laughing at your own terrible jokes, like I could leave the place I always thought was home if it meant coming home to you. I like you so much it scared me, so I didn't say anything until now. But I think... I think I'm more scared of losing you again, or... or, god, losing you forever. So I'm not getting on that plane.”
“You like me that much, huh?” Wonpil whispers after a beat. It’s snarky, playful, like most Wonpil responses are, but the tremor in his voice and the twinkle in his eyes say everything that Jae needs to know.
“Yes. Now please let me kiss you?”
“Okay but you gotta start paying me rent.” Wonpil takes one end of the scarf around his neck and wraps it around Jae, leaning up on his tiptoes to press kisses on Jae’s forehead, then on his cheeks, on the tip of his chilly nose, on his mouth. Jae catches it with his own lips and deepens the kiss, pulling Wonpil closer by the waist.
For the record, Jae is completely aware of how ridiculous this whole thing is – flying all the way across the world to see his childhood best friend, falling in love with said best friend, and then deciding to stay. If you told him a month ago that his holiday vacation would lead to this, he never would have believed it. Hell, Brian probably wouldn’t even believe him now. The thing is, Jae was never the type to make unplanned detours. But then he feels Wonpil smile against his lips, and he thinks, maybe this was his destination all along.