Work Text:
Soonyoung pulls up to the train station in the same shoddy car he’s been driving since high school. It shifts colors in the sun, from a muddy green to brown, then back to green, like holographic paper. Joshua is the only one to get off the train, hand over his eyes and his puny suitcase bouncing against his heels, but Soonyoung still honks his horn loudly and repeatedly for his attention.
Joshua hops down the stairs, two at a time, throws open the back seat door and tosses his suitcase in. Climbs into the front seat clumsily from there. Soonyoung pinches his thigh as he passes by and Joshua, once he’s righted himself, retaliates by placing his cool hand on Soonyoung’s overheated leg, where it’s bared out from underneath his painfully ugly khakis. His shirt, yellow and pink like a piece of striped candy. The air in the car is stuffy, hot, seeps into Joshua’s lungs and clogs his throat when Soonyoung smiles.
“Are you wearing jeans?” Soonyoung asks incredulously. Joshua bites the inside of his cheek and pretends not to hear him. Soonyoung shakes his head. “Four years in Canada and you forget how to act. Quick, how many feet are in a yard?”
Joshua punches him in the arm to cover up the fact that he, really, does not have the faintest clue. Soonyoung grins.
“There’s a cooler in the trunk,” He says, shifting the car out of parked and into reverse but not lifting his foot from the brake, letting it idle. Joshua tilts his head in confusion; Soonyoung’s house is two hours away from the station. Soonyoung sees this and smiles wider. “I drove really fast.”
Joshua wonders what really fast means to Soonyoung, who drives like the earth itself is cracking open behind his wheels. He gets out of the car anyways and pops open the trunk. He finds the cooler and retrieves the singular Fanta, buried in a nest of ice. He sits back down in the car and opens it with his teeth, Soonyoung looking at him all the while.
“Glass bottle— how you like it.” He says, almost shyly. “I remembered.”
Joshua takes gulps of it, the false flavour fizzing in his mouth. He smiles cheekily at Soonyoung. “My tastes could have changed.”
“But they didn’t.”
He feels disjointed, knocked off his axis.
“You’re right.” Joshua admits, trying not to show how much this conversation affects him. To have Soonyoung so close to talking about what went down between them, but avoiding it each time. When Soonyoung volunteered to pick up Joshua from the train station, Joshua had thought it to be some sort of revenge he’d been planning. He spent his whole flight worrying, then the train ride bracing himself for what he deserves. And now he’s here, and Soonyoung brings him cold Fanta and the option to keep things friendly between them. Why aren’t you angry? “They didn’t.”
Soonyoung smirks, content, and lets the car roll backwards, shifts into drive and speeds out of the deserted lot. He turns sharply, and the back wheels lose traction with the asphalt for a moment, wheeling out behind them. Joshua clutches onto the armrest with one hand, and holds his bottle steadfast in the other. The drink sloshes around inside, daring to spill over the rim. Joshua squeezes his eyes shut. He remembers something then; he hasn’t prayed since he was last in the passenger seat of Soonyoung’s car.
Soonyoung takes one hand off the wheel to dig through the mess in the cupholders and grunts when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for.
“Sunglasses.” He says bluntly. Joshua doesn’t swat him for being rude, just opens the glove compartment and picks the sunglasses out. The deep blue tinted lenses glinting in the sun. He keeps his bottle firmly between his thighs and slips them on for Soonyoung, sparing them from Soonyoung taking his hands off the wheel to do it himself, God knows he would. Why he lets his fingers linger against the shell of Soonyoung’s ear, he has no excuse for.
Joshua clears his throat and sits back down, sinking far into the seat. He takes a sip of his drink.
“Did you miss it here—?” Soonyoung asks.
Joshua sighs and rests his head against the window. December in Tombstone, Arizona is hot and red, just like it is the rest of the year. There’s a certain aridity to the air that leaves everyone with cracked lips and dry noses. Joshua took one step off the plane and felt the moisture leave his skin in one dry snap. Snow is a child’s fantasy. “It’s too hot.”
Soonyoung laughs, the sun glinting off his white teeth and glasses. In direct opposition to his skin, Joshua’s heart fills up with moisture, large enough to crack his ribs from the inside. Years away from Arizona didn’t make it any cooler, if anything, Joshua is more susceptible to the heat. Sensitivity dialed to a hundred.. The heat is a metaphor, years spent ignoring a love only made it burn brighter. He presses the mercifully cool bottle to his cheek
(On Soonyoung’s smallest finger, a solid band of gold.)
Joshua keeps tugging at his seat belt, Soonyoung swerving over the solid yellow line on the highway to pass a car in front of them. Once in the opposite lane, he steps on the gas and peals ahead of them, jerks back into the correct lane when he’s cleared the front bumper of the other car, hand over hand, spinning the wheel to the right and yanking it straight again. Joshua turns in his seat and waves apologetically to the stunned driver, too shocked to even honk.
“Pull over.”
Soonyoung grins, nose scrunching mischievously. “No.”
Joshua drains the rest of his Fanta out of desperation. He’s almost to it, when he catches sight of Soonyoung opening his mouth slightly and closing it repeatedly, like a fish. He smacks his dry lips together and Joshua relents with a groan. He reaches over the center console and feeds the rest of the drink to Soonyoung, one hand cupped under his mouth. Soonyoung tilts his head back and swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing. He keeps his eyes on the road at least, so he can’t see Joshua trace the motion and turn red.
Joshua pulls away, tosses the empty bottle heedlessly between his feet. Soonyoung wipes his mouth on his shoulder.
“Thank you.”
Joshua hums unevenly, his hands shaking a little, tucking them between his thighs.
“I missed you, by the way.” Soonyoung says, pushing his glasses up on his face. When Joshua stays silent he coughs. “Everyone did. You— uh, you never visited.”
Soonyoung winces at his own words. “I don’t mean like— it was just. Hard.”
Joshua swallows hard. The conversation is stilted, broken. Soonyoung too eager to keep it going, and Joshua too tightly wounded to make more than one, two word sentences.
“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung again. He talks too much when he gets nervous, sweats horrendously too, amongst other things. He’s going to keep talking until Joshua says something, but none of the sentences floating around Joshua’s mind are appropriate enough, good enough, to say out loud. I want to sink my teeth into you; Remember when I said I didn’t love you anymore? I lied; Will you still kiss me if I asked; I think I broke your heart. Soonyoung speaks before he can. “I didn’t mean to like, guilt-trip you or anything.”
“You’re right, though.” Joshua says after a long silence. “I should have visited. I wish I’d done a better job at keeping up.”
He always had an excuse ready for when Soonyoung messaged him on Skype, asking when his next break was. Plane tickets are expensive this time of year; Customs can suck his proverbial and non-proverbial dick.
“I missed you too.” He admits, and immediately knows Soonyoung appreciates it more than any apology he could have offered. There must be nothing more satisfying, to him, than a thousand mile ache— years spent thinking you were alone in it, requited at long last.
Joshua spends the rest of the car ride drifting in and out of consciousness, Soonyoung’s fingers tapping out a lullaby rhythm on the steering wheel.
He wakes to the sound of all the doors unlocking.
“This isn’t Seungcheol’s house.” He notes, stretching and rubbing his hands over his eyes. He thinks he catches Soonyoung staring, but he can’t be sure.
“Aren’t you observant?” Soonyoung bites, reaching out and pinching the inch of skin Joshua bared. Joshua squirms away, hands on his stomach, and glares. Soonyoung unbuckles his seatbelt, grinning. “You’re right, it’s not Seungcheol’s house. It’s mine.”
He explains that he needs to change before anything can happen. Joshua thinks he looks fine. “Wait for me?” He asks, after he’s already halfway out the door, keys in hand and staring back at Joshua tentatively, hopefully, like Joshua has anything else to do.
“No.” Joshua says. Unbuckles his seat and climbs out of the car. “I want to see your house.”
In his third year of university, Soonyoung had sent him a blurry and unfocused selfie, his face only half in the frame and a set of keys dangling from his hand. Behind him, a mustard yellow door. The message simply read: house!!!!!!!!!!!! Then a much cooler apology, he had sent it to the wrong person.
They hadn’t spoken for nearly two years.
Joshua had grabbed his phone and rolled onto his stomach. No, I want to see your house.
Soonyoung opens his door and lets Joshua in with a flourish.
“I’m going to get changed.” He says, clearly trying to use his body to block Joshua’s view of the living room. “Feel free to— uh. Feel free.”
A moment passes, Soonyoung continues awkwardly standing in the doorway. Joshua raises an eyebrow, and he shuffles off at last, keeping his eyes on Joshua until the very last moment when he turns a corner and disappears up the stairs.
Joshua wanders blindly for a bit, trying to match the house to the background of pictures Soonyoung sent him over the years, although it looks a lot different now that it’s decorated. A small Christmas tree sits lonely in the middle of his living room, only half decorated like Soonyoung gave up midway. There’s other details too, places where Soonyoung’s messy personality slips through: the still broken window, duck taped after a mishap with a bird; a plate displayed proudly on his mantle, chipped and coloured bright yellow and blue from a china painting class.
He walks further, into the kitchen, and finds the wall behind the stove is blackened, covered in scorch marks from countless kitchen failures, and beside it, a lopsided picture frame. Joshua lifts it off and finds the wall behind it is significantly lighter but the glass is permanently smudged from Soonyoung running his fingers over it.
It’s of the two of them; young, long limbed and awkward. Joshua with a soccer ball tucked under one arm, his face wet with guilty tears. Soonyoung with an arm around his shoulders, grinning for the camera like a maniac with a bruise purpling his cheek. In the corner, Soonyoung’s shaky ten-year-old handwriting, for the memories!
“I’m coming down!” Soonyoung shouts from the top of the stairs. Joshua hurriedly puts the picture back and walks into the living room in time to catch Soonyoung making his way down, one hand on the banister. He’s wearing cut-off jeans, the hem line choppy, unsure, mostly done by himself. In the dark. A large white shirt hangs off his frame, only half tucked in to showcase his belt, black with a growling tiger’s head on the buckle, and a baseball cap that makes his ears stick out to match the belt. A step taken from his last outfit— up or down, Joshua can’t tell.
Still he can’t help but stare, Soonyoung growing shyer and shyer with every step he takes. By the time he’s reached the foot of the stairs, his ears are bright red.
It’s more the insinuation—the symbolism and the weight it carries— than actual reality that has Joshua holding his arm out for Soonyoung.
Soonyoung takes it, visibly pleased; he rests his head on Joshua’s shoulder and lets him walk him to the door. It feels a little like affection, a lot like acceptance.
“Do you want to eat before we go to Minghao’s?” Soonyoung asks, pulling the back of his shoe over his heel, one hand on Joshua’s hip for balance. He straightens up and is suddenly within kissing distance.
Soonyoung’s fingers leave Joshua’s hip five seconds too late— he can’t pretend he wasn’t lingering now. The same way Joshua can’t pretend he wasn’t staring.
“I thought you were supposed to take me to Minghao’s first thing?” He asks, trying not to think about the light pink of Soonyoung’s lips. If they’d be as soft as he remembered when he leans down.
“Do you really want to be around Minghao hours before his biggest party of the year?”
Joshua smiles. “Touché.”
Soonyoung grins back, watching Joshua walk out the door and out to the driveway while he stays behind to lock the door.
“So what do you want to eat?” Soonyoung asks once they’re in the car, scrolling through his phone for directions. “Denny’s? Tony Montana?”
Joshua makes a face, “Since when were you able to afford Tony Montana?”
“Since I could afford to move out of my apartment. We’re not eighteen anymore, hyung.”
Joshua’s disbelieving sneer turns into a pout. He looks out the window, forlorn.
Soonyoung snorts and bumps their shoulders together jokingly. “I know a place with great black bean noodles.”
“ Jjangmyeon? In Arizona?” Last time he was here someone asked him how it was in America for him. It must be so tough, being a refugee and all.
“You’d be amazed at how far we’ve come.” Soonyoung says, proud. He reverses out of the driveway, arm thrown over the back of Joshua’s seat and looking out the back window. It’s the purest image of masculinity. It’s—it’s a little sexy, is what it is.
Joshua swallows. “Can’t we just have Mcdonald’s?”
Soonyoung stops the car, gives him a long look. A look that says, I’m seeing you for the first time in years and you want to eat McDonald’s for dinner?
“I’m joking.” Joshua says, even though he wasn’t, really. “Jjangmyeon it is.”
Soonyoung huffs, the beginnings of an arrogant, self-satisfied smirk pulling at his lips. Joshua’s heart does flips in his chest, tumbles over its own head.
“I didn’t think anyone would be open on Christmas Eve.”
“Honestly?” Soonyoung says, holding open the door for Joshua. “Neither did I. I just didn’t want to cook, so I winged it.”
Joshua laughs. The inside of the restaurant is warm, decorated with tinsel and a few wreaths. Joshua sees Soonyoung strategically avoiding mistletoe. The sole employee, cleaning glasses behind the bar, is dressed like an elf.
Soonyoung sits at the counter and talks leisurely with her, slipping into Korean easily. She smiles and calls him by his name, and he calls her noona with a shit eating grin on his face.
“Can I have two servings of black bean noodles please, Noona? And a Coke, and a large water.”
She threatens to hit him over the head with the glass she just cleaned. “I told you not to call me that, I’m older than you by three weeks.”
“Three weeks more knowledge.” Soonyoung says sagely.
She scowls, but brushes off the offense. “We’re catering for two parties tonight, so your order might be slow coming out. That okay?”
“It’s alright. Thank you.” Soonyoung says, pushing away from the counter and grabbing Joshua’s hand. He pulls him to the back to sit at a more secluded table, doesn’t let go of his hand until they have to sit down.
“So?”
Joshua blinks, still thinking about Soonyoung’s hand on his. “So?”
“So what do you think? About the restaurant, I mean.” Soonyoung asks.
“It’s very… homey. I like it, it’s nice.”
Soonyoung beams. “Right? It’s so cozy, I feel right at home here. Do you..” He trails off, struggling for words. He bites his lip and looks off to the side. “Do you have someplace like that for you?”
It’s funny. If he had phrased that sentence any other way, Joshua’s immediate answer would have been you. Unequivocal, a bright-line rule.
As it is now, he has to flounder and ends up just offering a half-shrug and muttered, “Yeah, I guess.”
Soonyoung smiles anyway, and then their food arrives and their attention is sufficiently stolen.
“Mingyu is in Chicago with his fiancee.” Soonyoung says, taking a sip of his water. “And Jihoon already flew in for chuseok. Jeonghan-hyung never talks to us but he never misses a party so you can count on him being here tonight.”
Joshua hums.
“What I’m saying is— I don’t know you anymore.” Soonyoung says. He sets his chopsticks flat on the end of his plate and looks Joshua in the eye. “We never talked.”
“We talked, near the end.” Joshua doesn’t even know why he’s arguing, but there’s something aggressive in Soonyoung’s eyes, up front and vibrant, that makes him feel defensive.
“Not the way I would have liked. I never stopped missing you.”
Soonyoung’s sincerity is disarming. Shocking like a cup of ice water to the face. It never used to be like this, even before Joshua left, Soonyoung had a hard time with his words.
Now, Soonyoung’s words form a glass heart for Joshua to hold, beating and whole, yet so, so vulnerable. Here is how I feel. Do with it what you please.
“Let’s talk now, then.”
Four years ago, in a town so small you need to take a two hour drive to the next town over just to catch a train to the airport, Joshua left Soonyoung crying on a platform. He’d kissed him goodbye, even with all the tears and snot and grossness. He remembers Soonyoung screwing his hands into fists at the front of Joshua’s shirt, kissed him with voration, with anxiety. Don’t forget me. Don’t you dare fucking forget me. Please.
Seven months from then, Joshua will meet Wonwoo, and one month from then he’ll call Soonyoung and tell him he doesn’t love him anymore. That it just tapered out, melted to nothing like a candle left to the wind. Soonyoung was angry, predictably, choked on his tears while cussing Joshua out with all the viciousness and ferocity of an animal wronged. Told Joshua to come down here and say it to his face, he’ll believe him then, if he said to his face.
Joshua, always the better liar, said he didn’t need to do shit for Soonyoung and ended the call. And it was over. He mailed the promise ring over in a neatly sealed envelope and Soonyoung mailed it back with a scrawled note, Keep it. That’s how Joshua knew that Soonyoung was ten times the man he’d ever be, and that he was never getting over him.
“I was awful to you. I didn’t believe in our love enough. I left you for the first pretty thing I saw.” Joshua says, staring at his hands folded in his lap.
Soonyoung winces at the reminder. “I was pretty bad too. I was— I didn’t think you would ever let me go and then you did and I froze you out.”
Soonyoung pauses, faltering. Joshua wants to cover his hand with his.
“I guess I believed in us a little too much.” Soonyoung says at last.
“There’s no such thing as believing too much. You were righteous.” Soonyoung smiles like he’s trying not to, a little shy. From the speakers, Santa Baby plays softly. “I could have visited more. I lied.”
“I know. You’re an awful liar.”
“I was scared. Scared of what would happen, what I’d do, if you left me. So I left you first.” Joshua says, overly slow, the confession clogging his throat like molasses. “I’m sorry.”
Soonyoung reaches over the table, turns his palm upward. Joshua slowly fits his own into it. Soonyoung squeezes his hand, smiling. “Thank you.”
Not it’s alright, because it’s not. Really. Joshua was harsh, cruel even. Made a mistake that could have been irreversible, if not for Soonyoung’s mercy, a gift he has in spades. What he deserves is retribution. What he gets is forgiveness. Soonyoung smiles.
“You should eat more. It’s hard to drink on an empty stomach.”
- ••
Despite all of Joshua’s complaining, or thanks to it, they arrive preposterously early to the party. Minghao opens the door and stares at them like he’s not exactly sure what to do with them. But he smiles when he sees Soonyoung.
“You can’t wear that in my house.” He says, looking a little cheeky. Joshua shuffles from foot to foot, feeling well and truly left out.
Soonyoung grins, shrugging one shoulder. “You bought me the belt.”
Minghao twitches a little, almost a flinch, but his smile is back soon enough. “It was a mistake. A joke. I didn’t think you would actually wear it.”
“Well I like it, so I’m wearing it.”
Minghao opens his mouth when a loud voice cuts him off from inside.
“Hyung?”
Seokmin’s head pops over Minghao’s shoulder, wearing a reindeer headband. He’s taller than all three of them now, Joshua notices. Seokmin grins when he sees Joshua, brighter than all the festive lights stringed across on the street. “Hyungs!”
Joshua nods and Seokmin breaks past Minghao to envelop Joshua in a warm hug. Joshua’s head stays firmly buried in Seokmin’s shoulder, he can’t reach any higher, where he smells like fruit and a little like cinnamon. Over Seokmin’s shoulder, Joshua sees Minghao roll his eyes.
Minghao lets them in, but only if Soonyoung untucks his shirt wholly and hides the belt. Soonyoung doesn’t do that.
“I haven’t finished decorating yet.” Minghao says apologetically, closing the door behind them. “And Seokmin is about up to his knees in gingersnaps.”
Seokmin shakes his head, dislodging his headband into his eyes. Minghao pushes it back up. “Not fun.”
“I hate to ask—but could you guys help us out? Just a little, before the others come.”
“I said this would happen.” Soonyoung complains, but rolls his sleeves up anyways and ushers Seokmin into the kitchen. Leaving Joshua behind with Minghao.
“How was Canada?” Minghao asks, after ten minutes of hanging up tinsel in silence.
“Fine? I guess.” Joshua says, uncomfortable under Minghao’s gaze.
“ Just fine?” Minghao breathes, voice full of disbelief and incredulity. “Just fine. You’d think you found Nirvana, with how fast you left.”
“What?”
Minghao opens his mouth and closes it, then all his temper drains out of him at once, leaving him a little haggard. “Nevermind. Welcome back.”
Joshua swallows and turns away. There’s loud, raucous laughter from the kitchen, just audible over the loud Christmas music. “Thank you.”
Soonyoung emerges from the kitchen with a plate of cookies and shortening on his cheek. He shoves one into Joshua’s face and Joshua obediently takes a bite. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Minghao turn and walk away.
“Tastes like ginger.” He says. Soonyoung nods, satisfied with the result. Seokmin pops out from behind them.
“I can handle it from here, thank you Soonyoung.” He says, through a mouthful of cookie. “You guys can watch Hulu or something.”
After some lengthy argument, Joshua ends up with Soonyoung’s legs in his lap, marathoning Home Alone until the other guests start arriving.
“I don’t think Minghao likes me.” Joshua confides, voice low, thumbing the small patch of skin between Soonyoung’s jeans and his socks.
“Minghao never liked you.” Soonyoung points out, not unkindly, just forward. “He thinks you have no spine.”
Joshua pinches Soonyoung but he just smiles.
“He’s more hostile. I think.”
Soonyoung hisses, a sound of empathy. Joshua can’t tell if it was for him, or for the man who just took a plank to the crotch on screen. “That might have been my fault, actually.”
“Why? What happened?” Joshua asks, turning his face to Soonyoung. On the television, Robber #2 gets tarred and feathered and Soonyoung’s face twists up in a grimace.
“Not much.” Soonyoung says, not taking his eyes off the screen. His face is lit red and white, blue and grey in increments. “It was just a sort of— Misaffection. I guess.”
Joshua feels like he’s been hit over the head with something, a bright red bowling ball, if you will. “You and Minghao—?” He cuts himself off, unable to say the rest out loud.
“That wasn’t the point of my sentence at all.”
Joshua isn’t listening to him. He’s watching Minghao, standing across the room and letting Seokmin talk to him. Minghao’s staring at Soonyoung. Soonyoung’s staring at Joshua.
“Yeah but did you?” Joshua pushes, unable to pull his gaze away from the hooded, open way Minghao looks at Soonyoung.
Soonyoung huffs, suspending his bangs off his head for a quick moment. “No. He just— liked me. I guess. It wouldn’t work out anyways because of. You, I guess. ” He sounds awfully embarrassed about saying it out loud, tugging at his hair. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
Minghao, to Joshua now, seems a lot more than an insolent dongsaeng. He’s competition, in a way. A comrade in others. He knows what it means to ache, ache in the way Soonyoung can make you ache. Though, when Joshua thinks about it, it must have been worse for Minghao. Distance was not a buffer for him the way it was for Joshua. When Soonyoung was only a phone call, a drive, an arm’s length away and the one thing holding you back was your respect for his sorrow. He misses the one thing you can’t give him.
Minghao catches Joshua staring, blinks once, takes a long sip from his mug, then turns to Seokmin.
“I’m sorry.” Joshua says hoarsely.
“Don’t be. It’s in the past.” Soonyoung reassures him with a smile.
The apology wasn’t for you, Joshua thinks. Bites his tongue and nods okay.
Slowly, eventually, the other guests start arriving and Minghao turns off the television in honour of making conversation. Jeonghan shows up already drunk and only interacts with Joshua once: a solid clap on the back and a hushed congratulations when he sees the way Soonyoung falls all over him in laughter.
The sun sets and Seokmin goes in and out of rooms turning on all the lights and singing Christmas carols, a little on the other side of tipsy. Minghao follows him and turns them off.
“Let’s call Mingyu.” Soonyoung offers.
“Isn’t it like two am there?”
Soonyoung takes a long sip of what is presumably just eggnog. But then again, by the flush on his cheeks and the slight slur in his voice, probably not. “He’ll pick up.”
So Minghao brings out the laptop and Skypes him and, true to Soonyoung’s word, Mingyu picks up on the second ring.
“Merry Christmas!” The entire party yells, party poppers going off.
Mingyu, shirtless and disgruntled, painted blue and grey from the light of his phone, rubs his eyes. “What the fuck.”
“Where’s noona?” Seokmin shouts, ignoring him.
Mingyu smiles a little at that. He loves talking about his fiancee. “She’s with family.”
Jeonghan shoulders Seokmin out of his way. “Is it true that she’s taller than you?”
Mingyu seems to darken, a blush. “Taller.”
A hush settles over everyone, an awed Jesus Christ from Jeonghan as he walks away. He sits down on the couch and puts his head in his hands.
“What are you fucking feeding her?”
“Love.”
Everyone groans at once.
Soonyoung leans over while Mingyu is showing off his Christmas tree to whisper in his ear. “I lied.”
“Huh?” Joshua says loudly. Soonyoung punches him.
“About Minghao; I said I was saving you from him. I lied.” He continues, fiddling with his hem of his shirt, eyes low. “I was just keeping you to myself.”
Joshua, still unsure why they’re talking about this, somehow knows that Minghao’s flat isn’t the right place to talk about it nevertheless. “We should go outside.”
Soonyoung frowns, looking uncertain, and Joshua scrambles to come up with something to convince him. “It’s snowing.”
He’s not sure if it’s snowing. He had seen a single white puff drift down slowly outside the window that might as well have been fluff from Seokmin’s sweater stuck in his eyelashes.
Soonyoung gasps a little. “You’re sure they won’t notice?” He whispers.
Joshua shakes his head, so Soonyoung listens. Squeezes past the throng of people and pulls on his coat and shoes. The entire party stays crowded around the laptop as if under a spell; Mingyu has gotten his foot caught in a string of lights and hasn’t noticed yet. Two more steps and that tree is going down.
Joshua closes the door to a loud crash and loud laughter and shouts of celebration.
Outside it is snowing, but in a way that only places that have to call ten degrees and above winter can. Quick and aggressive, the flakes dissolving the moment they touch the ground, and melting on Joshua’s head too, making his hair wet. They somehow catch in Soonyoung’s hair though, and sting his cheeks and nose an adorable pink.
“Isn’t it amazing?” Soonyoung asks in wonder. He sticks his tongue out to catch a few.
Joshua breathes in, and a snowflake goes up his nose.
“Yeah, it is.” He says, smiling at Soonyoung.
Soonyoung smiles back, then in a sudden burst of bravery, reaches out and grabs Joshua’s hand.
“It’s cold.” He says, by way of reason, moving their hands into his coat pocket. “That’s why.”
“Hm,” Joshua says, feeling a little cool with himself. The sweet warmth of Soonyoung’s hand stirs him on. “I’m holding your hand because I like you.”
Soonyoung’s blush darkens fast, creeping up the back of his neck and lighting the tips of his ears red. He presses his free hand to his face to cool it down.
“Sweet talker.”
“Only for you.”
There’s a short silence between them before Soonyoung talks again. “You’re so cool now. And tall .” He says, sounding really upset about the last part. “It’s been so long, really. That’s why I wanted to spend so much time with you. I wanted to see if you’d changed.”
“But I haven’t.” Joshua says softly.
“Yes. You have.” Soonyoung bites back. “And I’ve changed too. We can’t be the us from before.”
Joshua bites his lip. The snow is falling faster now, determined to leave an impact. It dusts the sidewalks in white, almost blocks Soonyoung from view. Soonyoung sniffles a little and continues, voice strained. “I’ve changed. And it’s up to you whether you like that change or not— but I won’t. I won’t go back. I’m better now.”
“I liked it when we were eighteen and both ugly.” Joshua says.
Soonyoung laughs, a choked thing. Joshua steps closer to see him. “Hell. So do I. Now we have to be adults, huh? Paying taxes and talking about our feelings.”
Joshua takes Soonyoung’s other hand and pulls him towards him. Bumps their foreheads together to try and pass the jumbled, swirling, mess of aimless thoughts directly to Soonyoung. “I mean— I liked you then, and I like you even more now.”
“And?” Soonyoung asks, tilting his chin up slightly.
“And… And I want to kiss you right now.”
Soonyoung smiles a pleased smile. “You’re awful. I’m trying to talk to you.”
Joshua lets go of Soonyoung’s hand to loop his arm around his waist and pull him even closer. Soonyoung smacks him in the chest, and leaves his hand there.
“ Awful .” He drawls. And meets Joshua halfway.