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“Are you going back?” Hyunwoo asks, sprawled on his back and aching all over from their sparring match. To his right, Hoseok fiddles with a watch, one that Hyunwoo thinks is too big to be practical or pretty. He doesn’t reply, opting to smile at Hyunwoo before he goes back to tinkering with the watch, holding it up to the light before looking satisfied.
“Just for a second, I have something I need to do.” Hoseok finally replies and Hyunwoo sits up, leaning into the other’s space to get a look at the watch. The make was something intricate but simple, off white in color with four digits in a row displaying 2047. Hyunwoo is very much aware that Hoseok wasn’t from his time, had known something was off the first day they met and Hoseok had accidentally spoiled the result of his match even though it was due to happen the next day.
He hums and leans back on his hands, watching curiously as Hoseok puts the watch over his wrist. Hoseok suddenly shifts, curls his hand behind Hyunwoo’s neck and pulls him close to press a kiss to his forehead. He pulls away before gently knocking his forehead against Hyunwoo’s, lips tugged upwards in a small smile. “I love you, did you know that?” Hoseok says, voice seemingly louder than life in the quiet dojo.
“I do,” Hyunwoo feels something in his stomach coil uncomfortably and attempts to ease the feeling by linking his pinky finger with Hoseok’s, “is something wrong?”
Hoseok is kind, that much Hyunwoo is certain of. But he’s as secretive as he is gentle. He sits back, glancing to the watch on his wrist and Hyunwoo swallows around something uncomfortable. “Can you show me you love me too?” Hoseok looks to Hyunwoo, eyes pleading even if his tone wasn’t.
And who was Hyunwoo to deny Shin Hoseok anything he asked for?
It starts with a gentle press of his lips to Hoseok’s forehead, a whispered ‘ I love you ’ as he kisses the tip of his nose. From this close, Hyunwoo can see unshed tears brimming in Hoseok’s eyes, and kisses those away too. He kisses his lips next, whispers another confession of love that hangs in the air between them. Hoseok is hiding something from him, and Hyunwoo knows he’s a fool for not pushing to ask. He gently tugs Hoseok’s hand (the one without the watch, the one without the reminder that Hoseok was from a time beyond him) and presses kisses to his fingertips, to his palm and to his wrist. He never fails to tell Hoseok he loves him in between.
Hoseok is smiling something soft and there are words unspoken between them. He stands up slowly and steps behind Hyunwoo, who purposely looks to the floor. Hyunwoo doesn’t hate a lot of things, but the rush of noise that accompanied the disappearance of Hoseok was something he loathed . It doesn’t take but a second before Hoseok is gone and the space behind Hyunwoo is empty of warmth.
He can only hope that Hoseok doesn’t take too long to return to him.
Hyunwoo waits.
He spends a ridiculous amount of time in the dojo, bamboo sword grasped between his hands as he practices step after step. He manages to visit Minhyuk at work, sitting by the window with a coffee that he forgets about until it’s too cold. For the most part, however, he’s kneeled in an empty room, watching dust motes swirl through the air and listening intently for the rush of noise that meant Hoseok was back in his time.
He stops returning back to his apartment after a month. Hoseok still hasn’t returned, and the uncomfortable feeling that settled in his stomach when they first said goodbye has long festered into something painful. He thinks that it might be heartbreak. Instead of sleeping in his own bed, where there are ghosts of the two of them, he settles for sleeping in the dojo, tucked away against the wall and underneath the window.
Minhyuk tells him it’s unhealthy. Hyunwoo thinks he just doesn’t understand.
His routine begins to change as the weather gets colder. He stops practicing as much, flat out refuses to take part in sparring with the other members of the dojo. He alternates between sleeping and kneeling, waiting for Hoseok to return to him.
He thinks at one point, kneeling became praying, and praying became him sitting cross legged in the middle of the room, looking over his shoulder any time he heard a noise.
Minhyuk tells him it’s unhealthy. Hyunwoo thinks he’s right.
The snow is falling heavy, forecasted to be the heaviest fall of the season. Hyunwoo is sitting outside the dojo for a change, tucked underneath the doorway and bundled up in a thick, padded winter coat as his ears bear the brunt of the weather. He listens (for once) to Minhyuk’s advice of changing up his routine, to begin the steps to healing, even if a part of Hyunwoo still strongly believes that Hoseok would come back for him.
He breathes out slowly, watching his breath curl up before letting his eyes slide shut. Grief was tiring, and grieving was exhausting. Hyunwoo doesn’t even know if the man he was grieving for was alive or not. Behind him, there’s a shuffle of noise, but he doesn’t look over his shoulder. He’s had enough of looking, of waiting for someone that never showed up. In all likelihood, it was probably someone closing up for the day.
Hyunwoo breathes out again just as a beanie slips over his eyes and covers the tip of his ears. His hand automatically reaches up to yank the beanie off, ready to scold whoever it was before the words get caught in his throat.
Crouching next to him is Hoseok, all weary smiles and tired eyes but there . He reaches over to take the beanie out of Hyunwoo’s hands, shuffling closer to place it over his head again. His hand gently brushes away the bangs that were in his eyes, adjusting the beanie so it was snug against Hyunwoo’s head. “Hi,” he says, scratchy and exhausted and Hyunwoo scrambles to kiss him. They end up falling back against the doorframe, Hoseok muttering an ‘ow’ as he pulls Hyunwoo closer by the front of his jacket.
“You’re back,” he murmurs and Hoseok nods, “what happened to you?”
“They - they took my watch, I’m sorry,” he lifts his wrist up, showing Hyunwoo a different make, “I had to get a new one but there were so many problems because in the future, it’s illegal to own something from CHW. I almost got caught so many times and that’s why it took me so long to get back to you.” Hyunwoo belatedly notices that Hoseok is shivering, and promptly wraps his jacket around his shoulders, patting it into place. “I’m sorry I took so long.”
Hyunwoo shakes his head, takes Hoseok’s hand into his and sighs deeply, “will you tell me everything?”
When Hoseok nods, Hyunwoo settles against the opposite end of the doorframe. Hoseok begins to tell him everything , from the moment he had left to now.
Just outside, the snow stops falling.
“You cheated,” Hyunwoo breathlessly argues from his spot on the floor, struggling to sit up. Hoseok laughs, loud and ringing in the empty dojo as he shakes his head childishly. “You cheated and I want a rematch.”
“You’re just whining because you lost and now you have to do the cooking for tonight.” Hoseok settles on his back beside Hyunwoo, immediately seeking the other’s hand. Their fingers intertwine, and Hyunwoo turns his head to look at the younger male.
They’re both winded from sparring, bamboo swords abandoned somewhere after Hoseok had snuck a chance to score a point. They quietly look at each other, enveloped in one another’s presence.
This was the happy ending that Hoseok had promised him on the snowy night he returned. This, Hyunwoo believes, is why he could have waited so long.