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It’s too hot to do much more than sit in the boot of the car they’ve rented from the airport and pass the packet of honey butter almonds back and forth. Yoongi slips his headband off and pushes back his hair, grimacing when it tries to stick to the skin of his forehead with sweat instead of doing what he wants it to. Taehyung’s bleached hair is still wet at the ends from when he washed the salt off in the bathhouse, and the water is dripping down onto his shirt in spots.
Yoongi watches the crowd — foreigners and locals, and maybe more people like Yoongi and Taehyung, who are here for a long weekend after less than a week of planning — all returning to their cars with their towels around their shoulders. Everyone is sweaty in the sun, but they’re talking and laughing loudly to one another. Yoongi pulls his headband back on again and sighs as he adjusts it.
“How did you convince me to come here?” he asks Taehyung. Speaking makes him realise how dry his throat has gotten, clicking when he tries to swallow. He turns back into the car to hunt out one of the bottles of beer they bought at the convenience store before they got to the beach.
“Because you love me?”
Yoongi hasn’t ever told someone he’s seeing that he loves them. He doesn’t even say it to his parents, as much as he hopes they know he doesn’t hold anything against them. It used to be that the thought of saying that to someone made Yoongi feel queasy, really. But he can hear the smile in Taehyung’s voice and it makes Yoongi smile too, and he thinks that this really is love, though he hides the expression into the empty car.
Taehyung has that effect on people. Yoongi’s seen it, right from the first night they went out to drink together and Taehyung charmed the ahjumma into giving them bigger servings. It’s worked on all of Yoongi’s friends, so well that Taehyung has all their numbers, and on Yoongi’s brother in the span of the only dinner the three of them have shared together.
“You love me, Yoongi-hyung,” Taehyung says again.
Yoongi hums, biting his cheek so the smile doesn’t break out again. “I suppose,” he allows.
He finds the bag with the beer and rescues one of the warm bottles, opening it and swallowing a mouthful before he turns back around. Taehyung can drive them back to the guesthouse they’re renting.
“Oh, that’s bad,” he says, smacking his lips at the aftertaste, and presses his toes into Taehyung’s ankle when Taehyung snorts at him. “Stop laughing.”
There’s not even a breeze blowing. Yoongi squints out into the sun and sighs, again. He takes another mouthful of the awful warm beer as he watches a mother help her young daughter into the back of their car. The beach is closing soon.
Taehyung reaches over, probably to pull Yoongi closer to him now that there are fewer people around to see, but Yoongi shrugs him off. His arm still feels sticky where Taehying touched it. Yoongi hates the heat.
“It’s too hot out, Taehyung-ah.” he says. “I’m melting. Have some pity.”
Taehyung leans back, further into the shade of the car. It’s not any less warm there, but Yoongi follows his lead anyway and scoots back against the seats. It’s a little less comfortable than how he was sitting already, but at least now he doesn’t have to worry about his face turning red in the sun.
“I’ll cool you down.”
Yoongi looks at Taehyung. There’s a skip in his chest when he realises Taehyung is already looking at him. “Oh, yeah?” he asks, trying not to give away how the words have to force their way past his racing heart. Eye contact is a lot. Taehyung is a lot. Yoongi has never been the kind of person to take sudden long weekends in Jeju, and now he is, because Taehyung asked. That’s a lot too. “How’re you going to do that?”
“I’ll tell you a story.”
Yoongi takes another mouthful of the beer and holds his hand out for the almonds packet. “Well, that’ll have to be a pretty good story, Taehyung-ah.”
“It will be.” Taehyung’s eyes are sparkling in the sun shining through the window. “I used to tell my brother and sisters stories all the time in summer to cool us down. Worked every time. Promise.”
Yoongi holds one of the almonds between his teeth and waits as Taehyung comes up with something. It’s so quiet here compared to Seoul. He can really only hear the waves lapping at the shore and the sound of another couple somewhere close, talking in English.
It’s nice, aside from the sweltering summer heat.
“You ready?” Taehyung asks.
Yoongi nods. “Is this going to be a once upon a time story?”
“No, Yoongi-hyung. This is about us at Christmas. Close your eyes. Look, it’s snowing outside.”
They spent last Christmas apart. Yoongi was working the next day, and they’d only officially been dating a little while before then anyway. It felt like too much too soon, but when Yoongi closes his eyes the picture of them curled up close on the couch comes to him without any trouble at all. Yoongi hates the couch in their shared apartment because of how uncomfortable it is to sleep on, but a replacement is right at the bottom of the list of things to save for. There’s a Christmas film on the fake television, and an open bottle of soju beside a bottle of coke on their coffee table.
“Do we have a tree?” he asks.
“You’re getting ahead, hyung. But yes.”
Yoongi watches a fir tree grow from the floor of their apartment. The Taehyung and Yoongi watching television don’t react, but the string of multi-coloured lights turning on is enough to let Yoongi see that they’re holding hands.
“It’s really cold in the apartment. Our heating is broken, actually. You tried to fix it, but you can’t. We had to call someone.”
The Taehyung and Yoongi on the couch get even closer; suddenly all wrapped up in oversized sweaters. Yeontan jumps up to join them, his little body shaking, and the both of them coo and pull him in for a hug. The bottles on the table turn into empty mugs. Dirty plates and a bowl with two pairs of chopsticks resting against the rim, from the hot Japanese curry Yoongi made them appear beside the mugs.
“When’s the heating getting fixed?” Yoongi asks.
“Does that matter?”
Yoongi opens an eye. “A lot,” he says.
Taehyung smiles at him, and the expression is so honest that Yoongi has to close his eyes to collect himself, and then opens them again. They’re so close in the back of this car. Not as close as they are in Yoongi’s mind, in the safety and freezing air of their apartment, but still close enough for Yoongi to see the sweat beading on Taehyung’s nose. Yoongi’s own shirt is stuck to his chest.
“Is this working?”
Yoongi pulls at his collar. “Not really. But don’t stop. Maybe it will. I want to know when the heating will get fixed. And what you bought me.”
“Give me a second,” Taehyung says. “I haven’t thought about that.”
Yoongi watches the couple walk past their car. They’re both fair-haired, dressed in shorts and sleeveless shirts. The man has peeling sunburn on the back of his neck.
“Taehyung-ah,” Yoongi chides. He keeps his voice low under the sound of footsteps in the gravel car park. “It’s Christmas. What do you mean you didn’t buy me anything?”
“Ok, hang on,” Taehyung says. He sits up straighter, pulling one of his feet further into the car, and reaches over to take an almond out of the packet. He eats it quickly. “Close your eyes again.”
Yoongi sips the beer. It’s not getting any better, but he’s still hot enough to be desperate. He closes his eyes and re-imagines himself and Taehyung in their apartment, sitting close in the cold. This time, he sees Yeontan asleep beside them and himself curled into Taehyung’s side. Their film is still playing.
“Ok,” he says. “I’m ready for my present, Taehyung-ah.” He opens an eye. “Then we can go back to the guest house where there’s AC. Or take a cold shower. Or something.”
“Sounds good. Can we get pork belly to go on our way back? I think we passed a place.”
Yoongi nods, even though it’s too hot for him to really think about eating anything. Maybe he’ll feel different when he’s somewhere with AC. Taehyung might make him eat something, either way. He closes his eyes again.
“So,” Taehyung says. “It’s snowing. Really cold.”
“Freezing,” agrees Yoongi. The him in his mind looks up at the Taehyung in his mind and speaks at the same time. “And we can’t get anyone to fix the damn heating in a reasonable timeframe. If I could just get one last look at it I bet I could get it going.”
He can hear Taehyung picking another almond out of the packet and eating it. “Probably,” Taheyung says, and then moves the story along. “So. I’m going to have to get out from under the blanket to get your present.”
“We have a blanket?”
“Mhm,” says Taehyung. “That blue one your brother gave us.”
The Taehyung and Yoongi in Yoongi’s mind pull the blanket that’s just appeared further up around their bodies. Yeontan wakes at the movement and sneezes. The real Yeontan is back in Seoul, staying with Jimin for the weekend. The Yeontan in Yoongi’s mind stands and turns in a tight circle before settling back down again.
“Sorry, I’ll have to let the cold air in when I get up.”
Yoongi thinks about letting Taehyung know that the story really isn’t helping him feel any less hot, so these details aren’t really needed. The only problem is that he isn’t sure what he would say if Taehyung asks him what the point of finishing the story is at all. He doesn’t want to admit, even to himself, just how invested he is. He doesn’t want to admit that he’s imagining the version of himself in their Seoul apartment, turning a ring box over and over in his pocket as he pretends to watch the credits of the film crawl up the screen.
How can Yoongi admit to stupid, impossible thoughts like that?
“Just be back quick,” he says, instead of admitting to anything at all.
He and Taehyung met in a club in Itaewon, almost two years ago. Now that night was cold. Yoongi was out celebrating Hoseok’s birthday, his shoulders feeling stiff under his cheap leather jacket that looked expensive if you didn’t pay attention. Taehyung was out because he likes to be surrounded by people, and he didn’t know anybody in Seoul he could call a friend yet. Yoongi was too drunk to keep check of his accent, and he and Taehyung ended up talking about growing up in Daegu, and then they shared baklava from one of the Turkish takeouts further down the hill.
Yoongi takes another drink of the bad beer.
“So,” Taehyung says. “Yoongi hyung. Wow, it’s chilly in this apartment, huh? The floor’s hurting my feet.”
Yoongi laughs as best as he can with a mouthful of warm beer and shakes his head. “Don’t make me choke, Tae,” he says.
“Ah. Anyway. I have a box.”
Yoongi swallows the last of the beer and sets the bottle beside him without opening his eyes. The Yoongi on the couch sits up straighter. Taehyung is standing in front of him, beside the tree, a box in his hands. The angle that Taehyung is standing at means Yoongi can’t see what the box looks like.
He could just imagine anything he wants. Instead he asks, “What’s in it?”
“You’re the one that has to open it. You tell me.”
Taehyung hands Yoongi the box. Suddenly, Yoongi can see it perfectly. It’s small. There’s a golden ribbon wrapped around the shiny green paper. Taehyung wouldn’t have wrapped it so well in real life.
“Is this … Kim Taehyung. Did you buy me a ring?”
The beer is sitting strangely in Yoongi’s otherwise empty stomach. The heat is getting to his head. These are the excuses he’ll think of later. At this moment, all Yoongi is thinking of is the soft sound of Taehyung’s inhale in the car beside him. The waves on the beach behind him. The realisation that someday he wants this to really be him.
“Did I?” Taehyung asks.
The Christmas lights in the version of their apartment that Yoongi is dreaming of get brighter. Strings of them snake out from the walls, already glowing. Snow starts to fall in their apartment, and it doesn’t melt over any of their things when it lands.
Yoongi’s heart is beating madly.
He opens his eyes. Taehyung is watching him intently. Yoongi looks at Taehyung’s chin instead. He didn’t shave this morning, so there’s a small amount of dark stubble in the dip of his chin, some above his lip. They can’t actually get married, not yet, at the very least, but of course they know what the promise means.
“Would you?” Yoongi asks. His mouth is dry again, even after the bottle of beer.
Taehyung nods wordlessly. There’s only one other car in the carpark, and the owners are nowhere to be seen. Yoongi wants to kiss Taehyung, so much that he leans forward on his hands and knees and presses his lips against Taehyung’s. It’s unpleasant enough, with the heat and humidity, that neither of them make a move to deepen it.
Yoongi doesn’t move back again when they pull apart, even though the heat between them is unbearable. Even though this is closer than Yoongi has ever let himself get to anyone else.
“I wish I did have a ring for you,” Taehyung says. His voice is soft. “On Christmas, I will.”
Yoongi laughs. “I wish it really was Christmas.”
“We would have a Christmas wedding the next year. Tannie could be the flower boy.”
“And Holly,” Yoongi says. He leans forward, getting closer again so that the words are alive just between the two of them. “I love you, Taehyung-ah.”