Archive of Our Own

Until one day I had enough

Of this exercise of trust

I leaned in and let it hurt

And let my body feel the dirt

When I break pattern, I break ground

I rebuild when I break down

I wake up more awake than I've ever been before

the introduction 

Allow Lim Jugyeong to set the stage: she’s dating two boys, neither of which her parents or her friends know about, and those two boys are also dating each other. Sounds complicated, right? She thought it would be. When they first laid out the idea to her, she couldn’t fathom it. She remembered Wang Hyunbin hitting her box of gifts out of her hands and thought that surely they had to be pulling a cruel prank. Lee Suho and Han Seojun? Liking her? Impossible. 

But it’s been over two years now—Fall to Spring to the heat of Summer, then repeat—and here they still are. And she’s accepted that they’re not just going to suddenly leave one day. Or step aside to let a cackling Semi emerge from the bushes and film her humiliation. That they care about her ( love her, even) and she might get to have them for years. It’s exhilarating and terrifying and she’s still not sure entirely what to make of it—pens giddy entries in her journal that make her cringe when she reads them back a few days later. 

That doesn’t mean it’s all sunshine and roses, though. Relationships are hard, she’s learning that. Once upon a time, when she used to fantasize about Hyunbin, she imagined that as soon as he said yes and they started dating everything would magically be alright. They would ride off into the metaphorical sunset together astride a cool black steed and live out the rest of their days in romantic bliss. The truth is grittier, rougher, but she thinks ultimately more rewarding. She’s learning a lot about love and about herself—so much that she’s started keeping a separate list in the back of her journal of all these lessons and epiphanies and nuggets of wisdom.

It might be ridiculous but she doesn’t care. These she likes looking back on. It feels like a chart of growth, a series of hard-won steps, and someday she hopes that her older self will read them and smile at this eighteen, nineteen, twenty-year-old version slowly but surely figuring herself out. 

She’s not showing Seojun and Suho, though. Absolutely not. But here are a few, between the two of you. Just keep them classified. 

1: you can’t fix everything 

It’s July and it feels like the sun is steadily baking all of Seoul’s residents alive. The air sits thick in her lungs and even just a few minutes outside has her sweating through her clothes. She’s glad, in a twisted way, that Semi posted that bullying video to every social media platform possible and exposed her at school because she’s not sure how she would manage to keep her makeup flawless in this weather. Any time she puts it on, she finds herself reapplying her foundation at least twice a day, no matter how long lasting or sweatproof the brand insists it is. Every morning, she contemplates chopping her hair off, too, but that’s a ritual she goes through every summer and so far she’s never had the courage. 

It doesn’t help that her family home is old and struggling, so the A/C never works consistently. The fan she sets up in her room just stirs the hot air around, so she’s taken to escaping as much as possible. Her main place of refuge is Suho’s fancy, very air conditioned apartment. When she’s not working her part-time job at the cafe or grudgingly attending a hagwon at her mother's (and Suho’s) insistence, she’s there, basking in the blissful coolness. She’s taken to going over whether Suho is home or not, since he gave her the passcode only a month or so into their relationship and told her to make herself welcome. 

She sees more of Suho than Seojun, these days, who piled back on the part time jobs as soon as the school term ended, refusing the hagwon and Suho’s offering of tutoring. She worries about him, seeing how hard he works to bring extra money in for his mom and Gowoon, but she and Suho agreed there isn’t really anything to be done. Seojun is stubborn and trying to talk him out of it or offering help will only backfire. So she makes sure to drag him to dinner when he has time after their cafe shifts and joins forces with Suho to trap him into at least one fun activity on the weekend. It feels a little like trying to herd a very touchy stray cat, but they’re managing. 

Still, it’s been several days since she last saw him in person and so she’s delighted when she slips into Suho’s apartment and finds him asleep on the couch—passed out with his face smushed into the leather cushions and one long leg thrown haphazardly over the back. She immediately swallows the greeting she was about to yell, not wanting to disturb him. A quick, tip-toed check of the apartment reveals that Suho isn’t present so she pulls out her phone to text him in their private chat, scrolling past a history of plans to take a trip to the beach next week and convince Seojun to take a few days off.  

Me [1:32pm]

I’m at your place

Seojun’s here

I’ll try to keep him long enough for him to get some decent sleep 

Boyfriend🌙 [1:34pm]

He texted me that he might head over

I’ll be back in a few hours

Rest well too

Jagiya

Jugyeong sends back a string of hearts and pockets her phone again. She carefully, carefully unpacks her bag in Suho’s bedroom, spreading her books out on the floor. It still feels too weird to sit on his bed, though Suho’s told her several times that he doesn’t care. She has a cosmetology exam coming up, as well as a math and English exam from her other hagwon and a part of her wails in despair looking at the amount of material she needs to cover. Maybe, she decides, if she gets through at least half of it, she can reward herself with snacks from the corner market. She can pick some up for Seojun too. 

Perfect. 

Goal in mind, she allows herself to sink into her studies, descending into a world of equations and verb conjugations and foundation shades. 

And then a scream comes from the living room—loud, full-chested, and almost blood-curdling. Jugyeong jerks in shock, scrambling to her feet so fast, she steps on her cosmetology text and tears a page. The markers in her lap scatter all over the wood and she barely avoids tripping on them as she wrenches open the divider. 

Seojun is sitting up on the couch—spine so straight it looks almost unnatural and a hand pressed to his chest, which rises and falls quickly from the force of his breath. As Jugyeong rushes closer, she notices that his cheeks are damp and his bangs are sticking to his forehead, in spite of the chill of the apartment. He doesn’t seem to notice her as she stops next to him, eyes focused somewhere distant and inward. 

Suho mentioned his nightmares once (that he still gets them, even though they’re rare, these days) but Jugyeong has never actually experienced one. She’s not sure if she should touch him or talk to him or simply leave him alone, just knows that she hates the lingering terror on his face. He’s usually so brash and outwardly self-assured, her boy, but right now he looks like a lost child. 

“Seojun-ah,” she finally says when several moments have passed and he doesn’t seem to be snapping out of it. “Seojun-ah … do you know where we are?” 

Seojun’s eyes dart to her and it still takes a few painful seconds for them to clear completely, awareness dawning and chasing off the last of the haze. “Suho’s apartment,” he rasps after another pause. 

She creeps closer to the couch, fingers twitching at her side as she resists the urge to touch him. “Was it a nightmare?” 

He closes his eyes and nods, jerky. Jugyeong’s done some reading on PTSD, after Suho suffered a panic attack on the bus from hearing a phone ring. She knows the broad strokes of how it affects each of them in different and similar ways, of the battles they’re still fighting, but she still doesn’t know what to do to help, how to make it better or if she even can. 

She hovers now, feeling useless, as Seojun sinks back against the couch with a shaky breath. “I’d like to be alone,” he mumbles without looking at her. “Please.” 

Jugyeong winces, telling herself and her own anxiety this isn’t a rejection. “Okay.” 

She grabs her wallet and goes to the front door to put her shoes on, deciding that she might as well make that trip to the convenience store now. Once she reaches it, she lingers in the aisles, deliberately taking her time as she picks out a handful of Seojun’s favorite snacks and a couple bottles of Chilsung Cider because the heat remains oppressive. She debates texting Suho but decides against it. Seojun will talk to them if he wants to. 

When she gets back, the apartment is quiet—the heavy, dread-laced kind that permeates the hallways of haunted houses in horror films. She half expects Seojun to be gone, but he’s still sitting on the couch. He’s washed his face, slicked his wet bangs back, and he cracks open one eye as she approaches. Afraid to break the silence, she reaches into her bag and pulls out the snacks one by one, depositing them carefully in his lap. Fortunately, his face softens with each new addition and once she sets the last bag of Kokkalcorn on top of the pile, he actually smiles up at her. 

“All of this is for me?” 

Jugyeong nods, embarrassed. Wow, she didn’t realize that she’d bought so much. “I know it’s not much, but I thought it might cheer you up. I’m sorry I can’t do more.” 

The smile slips away and his brow furrows. “More?” 

She shrugs, also putting the ciders on the coffee table. They immediately create pools of condensation that drip off the edge to the rug below. “You and Suho, the stuff you’re dealing with. I feel useless,” she admits. “Like I can’t really do anything to make it better.” 

Seojun holds up a box of Pepero sticks, rattling them. “I don’t know, this makes me feel a lot better.” When she doesn’t laugh, his expression turns more serious again. 

“Lim Jugyeong,” he says, in that tone that suggests he’s about to peel back another layer of himself—to the boy who is wise beyond his years, who has learned a lot about trauma and the arduous process of healing from it. She doesn’t see this part of Seojun very often—unlike Suho he prefers to hide behind jokes or sarcasm or overconfidence, like a constant sleight of hand—but she does appreciate the glimpses she gets.

“Jugyeong-ah, you can’t fix me. Or Suho. It’s not your job. My bullshit is mine and Suho’s is his. I can’t stop his panic attacks, just help him through them as much as possible.” He opens the box and takes out a chocolate covered stick, biting off half of it before continuing to speak. “And I can’t magically make your insecurities go away, right? That’s what sucks about all this. We have to do it ourselves. But I guess that means that all our victories are ours, too, yeah?” 

Jugyeong smiles at him, fond even though he’s now got crumbs all over the front of his shirt. “Yeah.” 

“And sorry,” he continues. “For being short with you earlier. I was just rattled. I haven’t had a dream like that in awhile.” 

“It’s okay,” she says and it is. The initial sting is gone. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

He shakes his head and holds out the box of Pepero sticks. She laughs and takes one, crunching it between her teeth. The chocolate breaks sweet on her tongue and Seojun pats the couch next to him. Rests an arm over her shoulders when she sits down. A few of the snacks in his lap fall to the floor with a series of crackles and thumps. 

“You help a lot, too, you know,” Jugyeong says. “Even if you can’t make my insecurities go away.” 

“I’m glad,” Seojun says and presses a chocolate-sticky kiss to her cheek. 

2: it’s okay to be Switzerland

It’s stupid. She doesn’t even know what she and Suho are fighting about anymore, only that it’s stretched on for an entire week and it’s threatening to hinder their beach trip and the end of their Summer break. 

Me [11:12am]

He’s insufferable

Does he ever apologize for anything? 

This can’t be all my fault, right? 

It always feels like it’s my fault but he makes mistakes too 

Yah

Han Seojun

I can see you reading my messages

Boyfriend☀️ [11:15am]

No comment

Me [11:16am]

What?

Boyfriend☀️ [11:17am]

I have nothing to add

I’m Switzerland 

Neutral territory

Leave me out of your war

She gapes down at her phone, offended. He’s just … staying out of it? When Suho’s clearly in the wrong? 

Me [11:18am]

Switzerland? 

You’re in this relationship too! 

Boyfriend☀️ [11:20am]

But not in this conflict 

So don’t involve me

I’m taking no sides

If you need mediation I’m happy to negotiate terms 

And accept bribes

But that’s it 

Me [11:21am]

Bastard 

Boyfriend☀️ [11:22am]

^.~

In the end, her and Suho work it out, like they always do, and she feels silly for having fought for so long in the first place. Once they’ve resumed their regular comic store dates, she shows Suho the text message from Seojun and watches him smile as he reads it. 

“It’s not a bad practice,” he says, contemplative. “It’s not fair if we’re constantly trying to drag each other into fights. To us or the third person.” 

Huh, looking at it that way, he has a point. And she further sees the wisdom of it when, a few days later, it’s Suho and Seojun in an argument. She walks into the middle of it when she arrives from an outing with friends, watching the two of them trade volleys back and forth across Suho’s apartment. For a moment, she contemplates asking, since arguments still make her nervous and anxious, but then she decides that actually, she doesn’t want to know. This obviously doesn’t involve her. 

So she makes her way to the couch, dodging around Suho, and settles in with a comic book, shoving her headphones in to tune them out. She’s not sure how long passes before Seojun pokes her in the shoulder. He’s traded places with Suho, she notices—coming into the living room while Suho’s in the kitchen, like they’ve switched sides of a tennis court. 

She takes out one headphone, noticing the thunder still on Seojun’s face. 

“Lim Jugyeong,” he starts, “what do you think—” 

“No comment,” she cuts him off. “I’m Switzerland and you can’t break the treaty of neutrality.” He blink at her, taken aback. She turns a page in her comic book. “If you need mediation, I’m happy to negotiate terms, but otherwise leave me out of it.” 

She keeps her gaze focused on her book, though she isn’t really processing the images. Her anxiety insists that she’s going to make Seojun and Suho mad but she tells it to quiet down. They’re not traditional in any sense of the word, just like her own parents’ marriage isn’t, and so they don’t mind her being assertive. 

Sure enough, Seojun huffs in amusement and nods. “Right, of course, sorry. No treaty breaking.” 

“No treaty breaking,” Suho echoes from this kitchen. “So stop bothering her and defend yourself properly.” 

“Yah, Lee Suho!” 

And they’re off again. Jugyeong puts her headphones back in and shakes her head, biting her lip to keep her smile off her face. 

3: it’s okay to lean on others

A brief jump back to the end of last semester and Jugyeong hasn’t left her room in two days, lying despondent on her bed as members of her family take turns knocking on her door in a steady rotation. She can’t bear to face any of them, though, or the myriad of missed calls and texts from Seojun and Suho. All she can think about is the video of her getting rejected by Wang Hyunbin and pushed around by Seimi that’s circulating around the school. The side by side photos of her with and without her makeup that go along with it. 

One of the most humiliating moments of her life and now everyone knows about it. Her closest friends, her boyfriends—they must all be laughing, right? Or filled with pity. Look at the poor helpless girl. How pathetic she is, crying on the ground because she got her hopes up that someone would love her. 

A part of her is convinced that Seojun and Suho really were just playing a long, elaborate prank on her and now they’re calling to tell her that they want nothing to do with her. She wouldn’t blame them. Look at them! Both so handsome, far more handsome than Wang Hyunbin, and they want to date her?

HA. 

On the third day, a knock comes right on schedule but instead of her father or sister or brother’s voice, it’s Han Seojun. 

“Jugyeong-ah,” he says and she tenses in shock, curling her fingers tight into her blankets. “Your brother let me up. I think he’s hoping I’ll ease up on him about his crush on Gowoon.” A faint laugh, followed by a sigh. “And I know you want space, I promise I’ll give it to you after this, but … your family is worried about you, Jugyeong-ah. Juyoung even beat up another kid at school today who was insulting you. And Suho and I are worried too. I think Suho’s rearranged the entire comic store because he doesn’t know what to do with himself.” 

The door creaks. She pictures him leaning his back against it, hand in his pockets like he does when he’s trying to be casual but ready to share something vulnerable. “We love you, Lim Jugyeong,” he murmurs. “You know that, don’t start doubting it now. And please don’t shut us out—not me or Suho or your family. I know it’s hard. I know what it’s like to feel humiliated, to feel like you can’t escape this past pathetic self you keep trying to leave behind. But you don’t have to do this alone, okay?” 

She sniffs, thinking that Han Seojun really is too nice for his own good. Her voice is still stuck somewhere else, refusing to be summoned, so she just listens to the sound of Seojun breathing on the other side of the door until he sighs again and says, “call us whenever, we’ll always answer. I’ll be at the comic store, trying to stop Suho from driving the owner crazy.” 

The stairs creak, signaling his departure. She debates chasing after him, but she’s not sure she’s ready yet. An instinctive part of her still wants to run away, transfer schools–just keep going until she somehow manages to leave it all behind. Or hide here forever, until all the flesh peels off her bones and she becomes a skeleton. Would people write horror stories about her then? The monstrous girl who died sealed up in her room, too afraid to face the world. Maybe she’d be the inspiration of a new classic comic. 

That evening her mother apologizes for not understanding her situation, arms wrapped around her tight. She’s crying, loud and messy, and Jugyeong feels tears of her own pour down her face because for so long she’s just wanted her mother to listen and now she finally is. The next day, they go to a cosmetic surgery clinic and Jugeyong feels her heart sink more with every black line the doctor draws on her face, only for it to soar again when her mother defends her looks and her skill with makeup, dragging her out ten minutes into the appointment. 

In the car, she promises to transfer Jugyeong to another school where no one knows her and Jugyeong realizes, with a jolt of clarity, that she really doesn’t want to leave. As terrifying as the idea of walking back through the doors of Saebom High are, she’d still have Suho and Seojun there, and Gowoon and Sujin, and even her idiot brother. Maybe Sooah, too, if she can figure out the right way to apologize for her deception. That’s worth being brave for, right? 

Jugyeong contemplates this once she’s back home, letting her feet finally carry her down to the comic store. It’s been a whole day since Seojun came by the house—nearly four since she last answered any of his or Suho’s calls—so she’s not expecting anyone to be there. But Suho rises from the blue couch with wide eyes, murmuring, “Lim Jugyeong.” 

She flushes, embarrassed, and ducks her head but Suho wastes no time in crossing the room and gathering her up into his arms. She makes a startled sound, then caves easily, clinging to his jacket and burying her face in his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, swaying her back and forth, and she’s glad that he isn’t asking her any questions, just letting her lean on him. 

When she finally pulls away, she rushes to wipe the fresh tears from her face, amazed that she still has any left with all the crying she’s done over the last week. 

“Hi,” she croaks and Suho smiles at her. 

“Hi,” he says back in that patient, gentle way of his. “I’ve missed you, Lim Jugyeong.” 

“I’m sorry,” she starts, but he cups her face and shakes his head. 

“Don’t apologize. I’m just relieved.” 

She sniffs. “Were you really waiting here for me?” 

“Of course.” 

She thinks of the rumors she knows are swirling around the school, about both Seojun and Suho dating her and how could either of them stoop so low? Don’t they have standards? Were they deceived? She knows Suho and Seojun must have heard them and yet here Suho is, like he’s not affected at all. “But why?”

“Why?” Suho repeats with a frown. “Isn’t that obvious? I love you. I want to support you, any way I can. And if that means sitting here until you’re ready to talk to me, that’s fine.” 

“You don’t mind?” Jugyeong presses. “What people are saying?” 

“No.” Suho shrugs. “We’ve discussed this before, haven’t we? People can talk, Jugyeong-ah. They can say whatever they want, but they’re wrong about you, about us, and so I’m going to ignore them. They’d have plenty of other things to say if they knew the truth of everything. I don’t care to hear any of it.” 

That drags a smile to Jugyeong’s lips and she hugs Suho again. He pets the back of her head and hums. “Besides,” he continues after a moment, “is your face fake with makeup on? It’s still your face. Whether you’re wearing makeup or not, you’re always going to be yourself, Lim Jugyeong. They can’t take that away from you.” 

Oh, Jugyeong might start crying again. She hiccups and this time Suho is the one to step back and take her hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk. Seojun’s out buying food, I’ll text him and he can meet us.” 

She nods, not realizing that a “walk” is actually Suho dragging her up a series of steep streets until they reach a park at the top of the hillside, with spectacular views of the city. She’s out of breath by the time they sink down onto a bench, but the sight of Seoul stretched out below them and the Namsan Tower a green beacon in the distance makes the trek worth it. 

She exhales in a long steam and Suho smiles at her. “See? Fresh air.” 

“It’s nice,” she admits. 

Suho puts his hands in the pockets of his coat. “I told this to Seojun once and I want to tell it to you now: you’re stronger than you know. And there’s beauty in that strength. The people who keep standing up, even if they’re bruised and a little battered—like trees or fruit that grows out of rocky soil, fighting for survival—they’re the ones to be admired the most.” He nudges her, a soft expression on his face. “You’re both stronger than me. So don’t give up, Lim Jugyeong. You’re the most precious fruit of all.” 

"That’s so corny,” Jugyeong says so that she doesn’t start crying again. 

Suho laughs. “That’s exactly what Seojun said back then too.” 

“Because it is,” a familiar voice comes from their left and she looks past Suho to see Seojun approaching their bench, clutching a plastic bag from the corner mart. He flops down on Jugyeong’s other side with a sigh. “You’re so corny, Lee Suho.” 

“But also right,” Suho says, unpreturbed. 

Seojun grimaces at Jugyeong and she laughs, though the sound comes out a little wet. Seojun pats her hand. “I missed you, Lim Jugyeong.” 

“Suho said the same thing,” Jugyeong huffs. 

“Well it’s true,” Seojun insists with a smirk that still somehow feels fond. “We both missed you. And I’m sure Suho said it better than me, but fuck the people at school who are spreading rumors and being mean about this. Fuck Park Semi and her minions. Fuck Yongpa High in general. And fuck anyone ever who’s made you think you’re not worthy enough, Jugyeong-ah.” 

Jugyeong laughs again. “Thank you,” she manages to get out. “I love you both.” 

She goes home laden with her favorite snacks from Seojun and one of the little worry dolls she once gave Suho to help his anxiety, complete with instructions to make sure she puts it under her pillow since Suho has already asked the doll to make sure she gets a good night sleep. Her heart is full again, floods so easily, and while she dreads tomorrow, she no longer feels paralyzed by her fear of it. 

She’s strong, she’s learning. And when her own strength fails, she’s got a lot of people who will help her stand up again, no matter what. 

4: Lee Suho has anxiety

It admittedly takes her until the summer to truly understand that’s what it is, not just awkwardness or introversion. She’s grown used to how different Suho in private often is from the icy persona he adopts at school. She’s learned that he gets nervous, gets shy, and isn’t quite sure how to date a girl, though he’s trying very hard. He has insecurities he buries deep. He’s afraid of being left alone, of abandonment, of rejection. He has a goofy side that comes out on rare occasions and he’s terrified of scary things even though he loves horror comics. 

She’s tucked all that away for safekeeping: the information she’s gleaned and he’s trusted her with. But she doesn’t realize the depth and scope of certain things until an average Tuesday afternoon when Suho stops by the cafe. 

Both her and Seojun are on shift, so it’s not unusual for him to come and visit them. What is strange is that he takes a seat without saying hello or ordering anything. Jugyeong exchances a worried glance with Seojun as he finishes ringing up his current customers. 

“Do you think something’s wrong?” she asks once they’re gone. 

“I don’t know,” he replies. “But you should go talk to him, I can cover.” 

“Are you sure?” It’s been busy today, customers streaming in to escape the hot outdoors. But Seojun nods. 

“It’s fine, I’ve got it. Go pry information out of him.” 

“I’ll report back,” Jugyeong says with a salute and heads over to Suho’s table. 

He has a textbook and a notebook out but he’s just staring blankly at them—a forgotten pen held loosely between his fingers and starting to bleed ink into the pristine paper. Jugyeong’s worry spikes up a notch. 

“Suho-yah?” she says, sliding into the booth across from him. 

He glances up and for a moment, he looks surprised to see her. He schools his face quickly, but she’s gotten good at reading him by now. She can tell that something is bothering him, it’s obvious from the tension in his shoulders and the tightness around his eyes. He’s radiating icy calm and he only does that with her when he wants to hide. 

“What’s wrong?” she asks, not about to let him escape behind his barriers. Seojun never seems to have a problem taking a metaphorical sledgehammer to them, but Jugyeong’s developing her own methods for getting through. A little gentler, maybe, while still persistent—like knocking repeatedly until Suho caves and opens up. 

“Nothing,” Suho dodges, as predicted. “I just came to study.” 

“Oh?” She glances down at the empty notebook. 

He follows her gaze and tenses up even further. “I just got here.” 

“Hmm. Want me to bring you something to drink?” 

“No.” 

“Food?” 

“I’m not hungry.” 

“Seojun?” 

His frown deepens at that. “I’m fine.” 

Jugyeong reaches across the table and puts her hand over the one still gripping his pen. “So you’re really not going to tell me?” 

She’s prepared to leave him alone if he pushes her away, but instead he slumps a little and the fight leaves him in a long exhale. “My brain’s too loud,” he murmurs. “I hoped coming here would help.”

“Too loud?” she prods. 

Suho finally abandons the pen. There’s blue ink smeared across his skin, dug into the lines of his fingers and palm. “It’s always loud,” he says. “It’s … it’s always been that way, but it got worse after Seyeon….” 

Oh. She fights back a wince of sympathy and takes his hand again, uncaring of the ink that transfers to her own skin. “What do you mean by loud?” 

“It likes to yell about things,” Suho explains. “Like … every time Seojun leaves, it insists he isn’t coming back. That there’s going to be an accident, that he’s going to die. Every time there’s an exam at school, it screams that I’m going to forget everything I’ve studied and fail, even though I never have in the past. Every time we argue or I don’t see you for a while, it panics that you’re going to leave or you’ve gotten tired of me, even though I know that isn’t true. Sometimes, on bad days, it says I’m not going to have a future, I’m going to end up alone, I’m going to lose everything, I’m going to fail at whatever I try—on and on and on. It’s … exhausting.” 

Jugyeong swallows, chest tight, and squeezes his hand. She can sympathize because she worries too. She has a cruel little voice that whispers cruel things about her life and her relationships and her future when she can’t sleep at night and it’s always a battle to crush it. “It sounds like it is.”

“And it’s not for you or Seojun to deal with,” Suho insists. “I know it’s illogical, the stuff it tells me. I’m getting better at ignoring it—” 

“It’s just hard some days,” Jugyeong interjects and Suho nods. 

“It’s hard today.” 

Jugyeong squeezes his hand again. “Does being here help?” 

“I think it will,” Suho replies. 

“Then stay as long as you need.” She slides out of the booth. “I’ll bring you a drink.” 

“I’m—” 

“Suho-yah.” 

He deflates again. “Okay.” 

She beams at him, getting a flicker of a smile in return, and heads back towards Seojun. He’s ringing up another set of customers but he nods his head in the direction of the counter and she sees an iced coffee sitting on it, ready to be delivered to Suho. She brings it to Suho’s table and this time his answering smile reaches his eyes, scrunching them in the corners in the way she loves. 

“Jugyeong-ah,” he says before she can leave. “Thank you for listening.” 

“Always, Suho-yah,” she promises and goes back to work. 

Suho stays until closing and then waits outside while they wipe down the tables and clear out the register. “Did you know?” Jugyeong asks Seojun. “About the anxiety?” 

Seojun finishes washing dishes and turns the tap off. “Some of it. Not everything. Not what he told you today.” He sighs. “I think some things he doesn’t like talking to me about. Or just assumes I know. I’m glad he talked to you.” 

Jugyeong is too, even if her heart still hurts a little. “Is there anything we can do? Do you think … should he be on medication?” 

“I don’t know,” Seojun murmurs. “Maybe? But I don’t know if he’ll want to go that road. There’s … there’s a lot of stigma still, right? He wouldn’t want to be seen as weak.” 

He wouldn’t be, Jugyeong wants to say but she knows it’s not that simple, especially for someone with both Suho’s pride and a public figure for a father. 

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” she decides. “Top secret mission.” 

Seojun salutes her and they join Suho outside. He’s got his bag slung over his shoulder and his bangs pushed off his face, dark t-shirt hanging baggy and casual from his frame. He comes unbuttoned in the summer in a way Jugyeong didn’t expect, but likes. 

“Hi, jagiya,” he says, greeting them with crinkled, affectionate eyes. She’s glad that he seems to be feeling better. “Yeobo.” 

“Ugh, you’re disgusting,” Seojun says, like always. 

“Thanks for the coffee,” is all Suho offers in reply. 

Jugyeong shakes her head at them and loops her arms through both of theirs, leading them down the street towards the bus. 

5: your relationship is yours to define

Jugyeong doesn’t dwell much on the potential societal repercussions of their relationship because down that road lies too much anxiety and possible self-inflicted insanity. For now, it’s fine. For now, it’s relatively easy to keep a secret. But she still feels guilty and twisted up sometimes, knowing what other people might say. About her and about Seojun and Suho. 

Right now, some of that is echoing in her head as she sits on Suho’s couch and watches them kiss. She likes watching them, she’s discovered. She likes the way their individual barriers come down when they touch each other like this. She likes observing and filing away notes for later: Suho will gasp if you kiss him on the right spot on his neck; Seojun likes to be caged in sometimes, made to feel small; they both shiver if you touch them on their stomachs or sink your fingers into their hair. 

And it’s just … hot, okay? It’s really hot. But right now, her brain is crashing bad thoughts around like a heavy metal band and as Suho presses Seojun deeper into the couch and Seojun’s fingers dig into her shoulder, she blurts out, “do you think I’m a pervert?” 

Seojun makes a weird choking noise against Suho’s mouth and Suho jerks back. She cringes as both of their heads swivel to look at her. 

“What?” Suho says. 

Ugh, how does she explain this? She’s not even sure of what she means, her stupid mouth just got ahead of her brain again. 

“I mean….” She fidgets. Seojun’s hand is still a heavy weight on her shoulder and Suho’s still half in Seojun’s lap, but they’re regarding her with such confusion and concern that she’s pretty sure they haven’t even registered their current positions. “I like—I like watching the two of you. When you kiss … and stuff.” 

Suho blinks, almost owlish. “So?” 

Jugyeong grimaces. “Does that make me weird?” 

“Why would it make you weird?” Seojun asks. “You’re attracted to us both, right?” She nods. “So then it’s fine if you like it. I like watching you and Suho kiss, am I weird?” 

“No—” 

"Is it because we’re men?” Suho interrupts quietly. 

That gives her pause. Is it? She’s seen the adult section at the comic store, though she’s never actually browsed through the books, she knows that some of them feature same-sex erotica. She’s heard other girls titter over stories online, about boys together. There’s a level of … illicitness, she knows, attached to it. Look how filthy and forbidden two boys kissing is. So maybe a part of her is worried about that, anxious of her own motives, but…. 

“It shouldn’t matter,” she says. 

“But does it?” Seojun presses. 

“No,” she decides after a moment. “I mean … I guess I just think sometimes, about what people would say about me. Or assume. About us.” 

“Elaborate?” Suho asks. 

She’s getting better at having conversations about these kinds of topics without turning into a flustered mess, but Jugyeong’s face still feels like it’s on fire. “That I’m just in this for the … the dirty thrill or something. A pervert.” 

Seojun huffs a wry laugh. “That’s not where I thought you were going to go with this.” 

Frustrated, Jugyeong smacks his arm. “There’s always the other stuf: I’m just your convenient beard or you two have corrupted me or this is only about sex. I’m just thinking about this … this particular thing today.” Suho opens his mouth. “And I don't know why,” she adds. “If I ever figure out exactly why my brain does things, you’ll be the first two people I tell.” 

“People might think those things,” Suho says, instead of whatever he was going to before he was interrupted. “We can’t stop them or control that. But we know they’re wrong.” 

“Yeah,” Seojun agrees. “Fuck them, they’re not in this relationship. Only we get to define what it is.” 

That feels … unconventional, a little selfish, even. But she likes it. They’re right, she decides. Other people will judge because they don’t understand, but she and Seojun and Suho know the truth, just like when they go out to eat all together and everyone assumes they’re just three school friends. They won’t see their feet tangled up under the table or catch all the things they’re telling each other without words, in the language they’re developing composed of expressions and gestures and purposeful touches. 

So she enjoys watching her boyfriends together. So she loves them and thinks they’re handsome and likes how much they love each other, too—all the things they’re teaching her, all the things they’re learning together. 

“Okay,” she says with a grin. “Fuck them.” Suho’s eyebrows go up at the curse and Seojun just looks proud. She coughs. “Right, crisis over. You may resume.” 

Now Seojun snorts and Suho says, with great patience, “Jagiya, you’ve kind of ruined the mood.” 

Jugyeong flushes. “Oh. Sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” Seojun tells her, fond, and moves his hand to pet her hair. Suho finally extracts himself from Seojun’s lap and flops onto the couch. 

“Should we watch a movie instead?” he asks. Before Jugyeong can answer he points a finger at her. “ Not horror.” 

“Fine,” she grumbles in defeat. “You choose this time.” 

They end up intertwined on the couch: Suho’s arm around Jugyeong’s shoulders, Seojun’s legs across both their laps, Jugyeong’s hands on their thighs—and it’s good, Jugyeong thinks. 

Their relationship is good, no matter what anyone else might say. 

6: Han Seojun is a caretaker 

Jugyeong’s first impression of Han Seojun was an intimidating bad boy surrounded by rumors that he terrorized other students—someone to avoid at all costs, perhaps even more than Suho the Ice Prince. How wrong that impression turned out to be. Han Seojun, she’s learned, has an enormous heart. He guards it well, doesn’t let people inside that easily because of the wounds cut into it that he’s still stitching up. But once you’re there? He’ll love you so fiercely that it’s staggering. 

(Him and Suho are alike in that way: how kind they are once the walls come down.)

Sure he is brash and too harsh sometimes, but if he loves you? He’ll pick up a sword and go to war for you. He’ll drop everything to rush to your side if he thinks you’re upset or sick or hurting. He’ll hold your hands across a table and share his own pain so you don’t feel alone in yours. He’ll bluster and grumble but always provide a shoulder to cry on if you need it. 

(“It’s a honor, isn’t it,” Jugyeong whispered to Suho once, “being loved by him.” And Suho’s face softened in tender understanding.) 

Seojun isn't really one to make grand, sweeping gestures—of the two of them, Suho is the more conventional romantic—but the thousands of little things he does feel like they add up to a vast sea. Breakfast for Jugyeong at the bus stop when he knows she hasn’t had time to grab anything; insisting on eating tteokbokki with her even though he hates the spice; Suho’s favorite coffee miraculously waiting for him whenever he stops by the cafe; makeup Jugyeong’s been talking about appearing in her bag like magic; cooking for them whenever they’re all at Suho’s together and tutting when they try to help. He gets skittish and huffy if they try to make a big deal out of it, so she quietly accepts these acts of kindness and feels her heart fill until it’s near overflowing. 

But she’s also learned that Seojun is terrible at taking care of himself and letting himself be taken care of. 

(“It’s always been a battle,” Suho confides to her. “You just have to wear him down.”) 

This weekend is an example: they’re finally heading down to the beach and Suho and Jugyeong have agreed they want to spoil Seojun for the day. It’s almost the end of their break and he’s both been working hard and looking after them in that silent, consistent way of his. Of course, spoiling him requires a battle strategy, which she and Suho spent an evening mapping out while Seojun was at work. 

The opening shots are the snacks and sweets that Jugyeong makes at home in preparation. The last time she baked anything was for her ill-fated confession to Wang Hyunbin so it was a little weird, coaxing her family’s old toaster oven into working properly and going through the steps of cutting out hearts and ghosts and little gingerbread men from the dough. Worth it, though, for the way Seojun’s eyes light up now. The stubborn idiot still waits for Suho to take one before he does, but he accepts her offering and smiles brightly at her, so she’s marking it down as a victory. 

The second maneuver comes under the guise of helping him put on sunscreen once they’ve staked out a spot on the beach. 

“Let me do your back,” she insists since Suho’s already done hers and is declining to go into the water for the moment, dozing in the shade with a book over his face. 

Seojun settles down and hands her the sunscreen bottle. She’s been learning some massage techniques from her father, who’s studying it alongside aromatherapy, so she employs them now, taking her time with the sunscreen and working over Seojun’s shoulders and back. She smiles to herself when she feels him relax in steady increments and a bonus is that she gets to touch him: so much warm skin beneath her palms. 

She can’t help teasing him a little, because that’s the relationship that they have. “Hey, Seojun-ah, remember when I saw you in your underwear? Leopard print, right?” She lifts a hand and curls her fingers into claws and he laughs, though his cheeks are pink from more than just the heat of the sun. 

“You know,” he says and then pauses to sigh as she massages the back of his neck, “I was making out with Suho right before you walked in, that’s why you caught me.” 

“Oh my god,” Jugyeong says, flashing back to that moment and his deer-in-the-headlights expression that makes so much more sense now. “I thought I heard a weird noise.” 

“That was Suho falling over because I panicked and shoved him down the hall.” 

Jugyeong giggles and sits back. “All done.” 

“Oh,” Seojun blinks, a little sluggish. “Thanks.” 

“Come on,” Jugyeong takes his hand. “Let’s go in the water.” 

The third salvo happens when they go out to see a nearby pier that stretches out high over the ocean. It has a glass strip along it’s floor that Suho and Jugyeong playfully jump on and dart around while Seojun steers clear but still lets them both hold his hand. It’s almost completely deserted, in spite of the bustling beach only a few kilometers away, and Jugyeong takes advantage, pulling out her phone. 

“Put your arms around each other,” she instructs Suho and Seojun and smiles at Seojun’s startled looks. “C’mon, there are hardly any couple photos of you two. No one’s around. I’ll be quick.” 

Seojun still looks a little hesitant but Suho’s eyes crinkle and he slides an arm around Seojun’s waist, pulling him in. Seojun admits defeat, leaning into Suho’s side and putting his own arm over his shoulders, tilting their heads together. It’s not a particularly intimate pose, but Jugyeong can see the love in it. In the way that Suho reaches up to carefully brush Seojun’s still-wet bangs out of his eyes and the way Seojun says thanks by running his knuckles up the side of Suho’s neck. 

They look beautiful, she thinks, with the blue expanse of sea and sky behind them and their t-shirts sitting haphazard and loose on their frames. Once she’s taken a few shots, she switches to a selfie-stick and comes to join in, making sure to position Seojun in the middle for a change. 

“Okay,” she says, as they huddle together. “On three. One … two … three.” She rocks up as Suho bends down and they both kiss Seojun on the cheek. He makes a startled sound, but doesn’t flinch away, just closes his eyes and lets them linger long enough for Jugyeong to take another photo. 

Success. 

She goes with a bigger maneuver at dinner, making sure to order all of Seojun’s favorite dishes from the menu. His frown says that he knows exactly what she’s doing, but when he opens his mouth, Suho just takes his hand under the table and squeezes tight—silent reassurance and warning. 

“What are you two up to?” Seojun still asks. “You’ve been weird all day.” 

“Weird?” Jugyeong echoes. “What weird? We’re treating our boyfriend to a nice vacation.” 

“Why?” God, he really is like a stray cat, so skittish. 

“Because we love him,” Suho says and, judging from the sound, pats Seojun’s knee. “And he always does so much for us.” 

Seojun’s face scrunches up. “Aish, how have you become even sappier since we started dating Jugyeong?” 

“Yah, just let someone take care of you for once, Han Seojun,” Jugyeong says, kicking him under the table. 

“Ow!” He glances back and forth between them. “You’re not going to give me a choice, are you?” 

“Nope,” Jugyeong says while Suho shakes his head. 

Seojun sighs. “Fine.” A waitress approaches the table with their food. “I want dessert after this too.” 

“Deal,” Jugyeong says and beams at him. 

On the train home, Seojun falls asleep with his head on her shoulder and she glances over at Suho in triumph. Suho gives her a soft smile. Whispers, “you wear him down faster than I do.” 

“It’s my special charm,” she whispers back. 

Suho hums in agreement. Jugyeong strokes her fingers through Seojun’s hair, listening to the even sounds of his breaths and the hum of the train around them. 

7: be brave, there’s so much to celebrate

Rewind quickly to the beginning of June, when the heat isn’t quite as oppressive yet and Seoul Plaza is alive with thousands of people, all attendees of the Seoul Queer Culture Festival. Jugyeong stares in awe at the mass of people, the dozens of rainbow flags and shirts, the booths dotting the plaza, and men and women adorned in colorful costumes. She doesn’t look at the protestors on the edge of the plaza, full of religious groups and consertaive seniors carrying signs decrying homosexuality. They don’t matter, she tells herself. They’re a mere pebble, trying to stop the steady progress of a river. 

And in the midst of it all are her boyfriends. She did their makeup this morning: a bi flag on Suho’s cheek and pink, blue, and purple eye makeup for Seojun. Seojun’s got pride flag earrings in and Suho has a little pin attached to the front of his dark t-shirt. She can tell they’re nervous—energy radiates from them in humming waves—but there is excitement mixed in too. It’s their first time going, they told her, but they wanted to be bold this year. She encouraged them, wanting to see them happy, to keep working to crush the lingering shame about this part of their identities. 

She has her own little rainbow pin on the front of her dress and she tied her hair up to fight the heat, also deciding to forgo makeup because today is about being your authentic self. They’re  going to participate in the parade this afternoon, but for now they check out the booths giving out stickers and other cute items or offering food. There’s live music, too, and Suho nudges Seojun. 

“We should play here next year.” 

“Mm,” Seojun agrees. “One step at a time, okay?” 

“Sure, yeobo.” 

The atmosphere around them brims with joy, but Jugyeong thinks it’s a deliberate kind. The people here are choosing to celebrate, even in the face of backlash literally across the plaza. You won’t defeat us, this attitude of celebration seems to shout, echoing all the way up to the tops of the skyscrapers around them. You won’t stop us, you won’t change us, we’ll just rise and rise and rise. 

It makes Jugyeong a little emotional, witnessing it, seeing Seojun and Suho here. The two of relax in increments, little by little, until they gather for the start of the parade and Seojun turns and kisses Suho, fierce and aching and in public. A few cheers go up from bystanders nearby as Suho cups Seojun’s face and kisses back with just as much passion. Jugyeong remembers Seojun in a sauna, working up the courage to come out to his best friend; remembers the fear in his eyes in a stalled elevator, when she told him she knew about his sexuality; remembers his fingers threaded through hers and the careful steel on his face as he talked about being bullied for liking a boy, as he told her that no one could know. 

She remembers all that and thinks: he’s incredible. 

Seojun pulls away from Suho and then spins and bends down to kiss her too. She closes her eyes as his mouth seals over hers, hot and perfect. He tastes like the sweet strawberry drink they got from one of the booths and his fingers have calluses on them from guitar practice that feel rough against the skin of her arms as he pulls her closer. 

And she loves him. So much she could burst with it—a star exploding across the expanse of space.

8: go at your own pace

Summer fades and the days steadily grow colder as the year marches into autumn. School returns, frustrating but inevitable, and her days fill up once again with more studying and hagwon attendance. It’s their last year, something Sooah talks about constantly, and she’s both excited and terrified. Seojun and Suho are in negotions to become official trainees at Move once they graduate, though she can tell there are still mixed feelings about returning to the company that once upon a time abandoned the boy they loved. 

They’re easing in, like wading slowly into a cold lake, by spending a few afternoons a week there, taking vocal lessons and making use of the practice rooms. She likes that they’re writing music again, even if sometimes they look wrung out when she sees them together or separately. 

(“It’s emotional,” Seojun huffs during a shift in the cafe. “ Really digging all this shit up.”)

None of their friends know about their relationship. They’ve had discussions about it: what it would mean to tell Sujin, Sooah, and Chorang, but so far they haven’t taken the leap. It’s just easier to keep it a secret for now. They’ve gotten good at stealing time away together, at keeping the depth of their affection hidden behind a facade of casual friendship. Though Jugyeong does find it ironic that she now has a new reason to fear losing her friends, even after her bare face was exposed. 

But the point is they’re managing, even if it sometimes feels hard to see each other outside of school and work. Tonight is a rare time they’ve all had off and her and Seojun naturally migrated to Suho’s. Suho being Suho, still insisted they study at least a little, but that eventually got set aside in favor of a movie, which eventually turned into a rather intense makeout session on the couch and now the three of the am are lying on Suho’s living room rug, heads together and panting hard as they come down from the high of intimacy. 

“Do you think it’s weird,” Seojun suddenly says, “that we haven’t had sex yet?” 

The question takes Jugyeong by surprise. “Wait … you and Suho haven’t….?” 

“No,” Suho says. 

Oh. She doesn’t know why she assumed they had. Maybe because of how casually intimate they are with each other sometimes, or the fact that they seem comfortable with each other’s bodies in a way she’s still trying to be. Maybe because they’ve dated for almost two years now and Sooah said that her and Taehoon had sex within the first six months. 

“But I don’t think it’s weird,” Suho continues. “We’ve been through a lot, the three of us. Sex is a big step … or it can be. We don’t have to rush it.” 

Jugyeong makes a noise of agreement. Personally, she’s not sure if she’s ready. She’s just getting used to kissing and touching. The idea of actual sex is exciting, yes, but also somewhat terrifying. “Besides,” she adds, “I feel like we’re easing into it. It’s okay to get comfortable with certain things first.”

Seojun sighs. “You’re right,” he concedes. 

“We just have to keep talking to each other,” Suho says. “Communicating.” 

“Ugh,” Seojun huffs but there’s a smile in his voice. Jugyeong pats his arm in joking sympathy. “But fine. We talk to each other and we decide how fast or slow we want to go with everything.” 

“And we don’t take a next step until everyone is comfortable,” Jugyeong adds and Seojun hums in agreement. 

“If two people are okay taking a step and the third person is fine with watching, that’s an option too,” Suho says and Jugyeong splutters. 

“Yah,” Seojun says, “how are you so okay with just saying this stuff?” 

“I don’t see the point in getting embarrassed about it,” Suho says, still sounding so casual. “We’re all in a relationship, we shouldn’t be ashamed of saying things in private.” He pauses. “Like the fact that I think about sucking you off a lot.” 

“Oh my god,” Seojun says as Jugyeong coughs, face on fire. 

“I know I’ve never done it before,” Suho continues. “But I want to try. I think I’d like it.” 

Seojun makes a choked noise and Jugyeong doesn’t think she’s ever blushed this much, this quickly before. The worst part is how into witnessing that she knows she would be. It’s easier to consider than one of their mouths on her because contemplating that makes her internally explode … and she may or may not have recently woken up in the middle of the night consumed by fantasies and had to scream into her pillow to calm down. 

One step at a time, though. 

“I’d….” she coughs again. “I’d be open to that.” 

“Wow,” Seojun says, strangled, while Suho makes a pleased sound. “Good to know.” 

“Would you be open to that, Seojun-ah?” Suho asks. 

Jugyeong feels Seojun fidget next to her, socked heels tapping against the floor. “Yeah,” he mutters after a moment. “Idiot. Of course I would.” Jugyeong’s pretty sure her veins are turning to molten lava. “I think about stuff like that too. You. And Jugyeong. But not tonight.” 

“Okay,” Suho says, all warm affection. “Next time.” 

“Next time,” Jugyeong agrees. 

“Next time,” Seojun echoes and the air feels heavy with promise. 

9: but sometimes being pushed is good

Even further forward now: past graduation and into a wide-open future. Seojun and Suho are preparing for debut with a full band around them—three lovely young men that Jugyeong has enjoyed getting to know, even if only in a limited capacity. And Jugyeong likes this internship as a staffer at Move, she really does. It’s good experience and it’ll hopefully get her a lot of connections, but there’s just one large problem….

“Unnie, when are you going to set me up with Seojun oppa?” 

Chaeni. The soloist is spoiled, arrogant, and obsessed with Seojun—all of which has made Jugyeong’s work a living hell. Even now, in the middle of a photoshoot, she’s insisting that Jugyeong text Seojun and set them up in a whiny, pouting voice that leaves no room for argument. 

Me [3:16pm]

I don’t know what to do

She’s twisting my arm every time I see her

Please go out with her just once

I’ll grant you any wish you want 

Boyfriend☀️ [3:18pm]

Lim Jugyeong

I can’t believe you’re asking me

Your boyfriend of 3 years

To go out with someone else 

Jugyeong winces. 

Me [3:19pm]

I’m not asking you to go out with her

I want you to crush her, okay? 

Boyfriend☀️ [3:20pm]

Crush her? 

Me [3:21pm]

Yes! 

Make sure she understands

That it’ll never work between the two of you

Be as scathing as you want

That’s the only way she’ll stop 

She won’t listen to me

There’s a long pause during which Seojun doesn’t reply and the anxiety swells in Jugyeong’s stomach, filling it with acid. What if she actually upset him? They’ve all been so busy and she sees so little of them sometimes outside of late-night phone calls—she doesn’t want Seojun to think she isn’t still invested in their relationship. 

Finally, as she’s leaving work, her phone pings and she scrambles to extract it from her bag. 

Boyfriend☀️ [5:30pm]

Any wish? 

Me [5:31pm]

Yes

Any wish

Cross my heart

Boyfriend☀️ [5:32pm]

Fine

I’ll take her out

Tell her I can go tomorrow night

Me [5:33pm]

Thank you! 

You’re the love of my life Han Seojun 

Boyfriend☀️ [5:34pm]

I’d better be

Seojun gives her the name of a restaurant to send Chaeni to and it’s a nice place—one the three of them have been meaning to try but haven’t found the time to. She’s not sure why, but that sends a weird, sharp pang through her, and instead of going home after work the next day, she finds herself heading to the address too. She texts Suho on her way and when she arrives, he’s waiting for her outside because maybe they’re both a little ridiculous and are being way too dramatic about this.   

“Chaeni’s here,” Suho says. “Seojun’s not yet.” 

Jugyeong nods. “Good. We can get a table in the back or something.” 

She’s about to open the restaurant door when Seojun says from behind her, “Lim Jugyeong, what are you doing here?” 

She winces, turning around slowly. Seojun’s dressed nice, she realizes, in the long brown coat her and Suho got him for Christmas last year and a black turtlneck. He even has his fancier earrings in. 

“Oh,” Jugeyong says. “Um … I just wanted to watch. To make sure it goes okay.” 

“Oh?” Seojuns says with an arched eyebrow. “Then why is he here?” He looks at Suho, who stiffens. 

“Entertainment value,” Suho replies with obviously forced casualness. 

“Uh-huh,” Seojuns says, not sounding convinced at all. “Well make sure Chaeni doesn’t see you.” 

And then he brushes past them and heads inside. Jugyeong exchanges a grimace with Suho and the two of them slip in after him, locating a table in a corner that has a vantage point of the one Seojun is joining Chaeni at while still being mostly hidden. 

“Aish, why did he bring her here?” Jugyeong asks, clutching her menu in a tight grip and aware that she looks out of place in her fluffy orange and white jacket with her hair tied up. “This is too nice for a rejection, right?” 

“Yes,” Suho agrees, looking slightly murderous. 

“He hasn’t even brought us here.” 

“Mm.” 

Jugyeong shakes her head and tries to focus on the menu, but she keeps glancing over it to Chaeni and Seojun’s table. Chaeni is leaning across it, trying to touch Seojun’s arm, but he keeps moving it out of reach. He’s talking but his back is to her so she can’t see his face or read his lips. What is he telling her? How annoying he finds her? How awful she is to her own staff? How she’s spoiled rotten? 

At one point, Chaeni’s face falls but then instantly brightens again. She says something Jugyeong can’t make out. Seojun shakes his head and reaches into his pocket for his phone. 

“Can I take your order?” A waitress asks, materializing at their table. 

“I’m sorry, not yet,” Suho says—gaze also fixed on the table across the room. 

Whatever the waitress was going to say is drowned out by Chaeni screaming “ WHAT ?” and surging to her feet, sending a glass flying. It shatters on the floor and other patrons murmur in shock. Chaeni stares at Seojun for a moment, looking unsure of what to say, and then just shakes her head and stomps past him, tipping his own glass over so that it spills water all of his lap. He jolts but doesn’t get up from his seat as Chaeni storms from the restaurant, just grabs a cloth from the table to clean himself up. 

Jugyeong watches, mouth open, as he then apologizes to a waitress for the mess, helping her pick up some of the glass before he abandons his table and saunters over to theirs, looking very smug. “My date just ditched me,” he says, pulling over an empty chair, “can I crash?” 

Suho nods, also looking speechless and Seojun sinks into the chair, plucking the menu out of Suho’s limp grasp. “Perfect, have you ordered yet? We talked about wanting to try the pasta, right?” 

“Right,” Jugyeong says, recovering a little. 

“What did you say to her?” Suho asks. 

Seojun waves him off. “Let’s order first.” He flags down a waitress and orders pasta and salad for all of them, along with a bottle wine. “Yah,” he says once the waitress is gone, “look at you two.” He gestures to Jugyeong’s jacket and Suho’s ensemble of jeans and a gray sweater. “I got all dressed up, but are we past the point of making an effort?” His eyes are dancing and there’s a teasing smirk lurking in the corner of his mouth. 

Suho frowns at him. “How did you know we’d be here?” 

“Please, I know you both,” Seojun scoffs. “You’re jealous.” 

“I’m not,” Suho counters instantly. 

“What did you tell her?” Jugyeong asks instead of dealing with the accusation (and how accurate it is).

“Mmm,” Seojun hums. “First I told her that I found her personality and the way she treated other people terrible, and I had no desire to date someone so spoiled and cruel. But that didn’t seem to really faze her so then I told her that I’m gay and I have a boyfriend and showed her a picture of Chorong. I think that got the message across.” 

“You did?” Jugyeong says. 

“A picture of Chorong?” Suho asks at the same time. 

Seojun takes a large sip of his water. “It seemed like the best option and yes a picture of Chorong, I couldn’t send her one of you, could I? We’re trainees at her damn company.” 

Suho grumbles in defeat and Seojun smirks again. She would rib him about being so smug, but she figures he has a right to be because she was inexplicably jealous … and she was the one who asked him to do this in the first place. 

Their food arrives and conversation shifts away from Chaeni to UV’s upcoming debut, scheduled for only two months away. And Heegyeong’s wedding, happening only a few weeks before. 

“She’s taking everything so casually and I think it’s annoying Tea—Junwoo-ssi,” Jugyeong sighs. “But I think preparations are going well overall.” 

“That sounds like Heegyeong,” Seojun laughs. 

“You’re both still coming, right?” They nod. 

“Heegyeong would kill us if we didn’t,” Seojun says. 

“We’d never debut,” Suho agrees. 

“I can’t believe it’s only a few months away,” Jugyeong says, shaking her head. “My boyfriends are gonna be famous.” 

“Aish,” Seojun says and Suho just smiles. 

“Are you still fighting with the company?” 

The smile slips away. “Yes.” 

“They’re idiots,” Seojun huffs, swallows a large mouthful of wine. “But Heegyeong’s on our side. So are Yejun, Juwon, and Dae. We’ll win. It’s just … exhausting.” 

Suho hums in agreement. “We’re not backing down, though. We debut the album as is, queer-themed tracks included.” 

She’s so proud of them, she thinks. So incredibly proud. 

Outside, in the winter chill, Seojun lets out a satisfied sigh and pats his stomach. “That was good.” He turns to Jugyeong, a glint back in his eyes. “But now I’m cashing in my wish.” 

“Already?” Jugyeong says in surprise. Usually he holds onto them for at least a week or two. 

“Mm.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I want you to go back to making videos.” 

She gapes at him, blindsided. “W-what?” 

“On your channel,” he elaborates, which still doesn’t explain anything. “You were gaining a lot of subscribers and then you stopped uploading.” 

“Because I got the internship….” 

“You hate this internship, though.” 

She opens her mouth to protest and Suho cuts her off with a quiet“you do.” She glares at him for this betrayal and he just shrugs. 

“You’re miserable and Chaeni and the rest of her staff treat you like shit,” Seojun says. “You should just quit.” She opens her mouth again. “ But I know you won’t, so let’s make a bet, Jugyeong-ah. Upload videos again for a month. If you don’t gain at least five thousand subscribers, I’ll stop pestering you and you get to decide on what prize you want. But if you do, you quit your internship. You in?” 

Jugyeong splutters, whirling to look at Suho. “You agree with this?” 

“You were good at YouTube,” Suho says. “And you deserve more than a bad internship.”

“Yah! You know I don’t like it when you two gang up on me.” 

“It’s a loving ganging up on,” Seojun insists. He holds out his hand. “You in?” 

Well, she does miss making videos. She’d been nervous in front of a camera at first, but eventually it became more fun than anxiety-inducing and she’d enjoyed experimenting with new content. She keeps meaning to get back to it, anyway, when the internship ends or stops demanding such long hours. She doubts she’ll gain five thousand subscribers in a month, but fine. 

“I’m in,” she says and shakes Seojun’s hand. 

Seojun grins. 

(Spoiler: she gains eight thousand subscribers, though she attributes some of this to guest appearances by Seojun and Sooah, and Seojun is insufferably smug. She doesn’t tell him how good it feels to quit and leave Chaeni whining in the back of her van—she’s sure both him and Suho know.) 

10: it’s the small things (that sometimes count the most)

It’s the night before Suho and Seojun’s debut and the three of them sneak away to Seoul Tower to watch the first snow of the winter fall over the city. It’s been a long road to get here. Suho’s father getting sick halfway through senior year, forcing him to resort to independent studies to finish school and spending so many of his days in a hospital; the fights with the company to support Seojun’s and Suho’s music; the painful, arduous process of writing that music; graduation and Jugyeong’s struggles with her internship and figuring out her future. Not to mention all of their individual, internal battles towards acceptance of appearance and sexuality and identity. 

Last week, they went to visit Seyeon’s grave and Seojun sat in the dirt and played To My Youth with tears on his cheeks and a smile on his lips while dug aching fingers into his shoulder. First loves are powerful, Jugyeong thought, no matter how fleeting. He’s proud of you, she said out loud. I’m sure of it. 

Now here they are, on the edge of a new precipice. But in this moment it’s quiet. The snow flutters down in thick flurries that Seojun catches on his palms while Suho watches him with quiet affection and Jugyeong reaches into her pocket to retrieve the presents that she purchased yesterday. 

“I have something to give you,” she announces and they both turn to her at once, similar expressions of surprise on their faces. 

Her ridiculous boys. 

She hands them each a small jewelry box. “It’s not much. But since our relationship is so secret, I wanted you to have something. To remind you of me. And us.” 

“Jugyeong-ah,” Seojun says. 

“Jagiya, you know we won’t—” 

“I know,” she interrupts. She’s confident enough in their relationship that she know she won’t get left behind, no matter how busy they get. “Just open it.” 

They flip open their boxes at the same time and she watches their eyes widen. Seojun lifts his present out first: a sun pendant on the end of a gold chain. Suho’s is a silver crescent moon that he sets carefully in his palm. 

“I know you’re not really one for jewelrey….” Jugyeong says to Suho. 

“I’ll wear it,” Suho replies immediately. “It’s lovely.” 

“I love it,” Seojun adds. “Help me put it on?” 

Jugyeong fastens Seojun’s around his neck and then Suho’s. Both pendants stand out bright against their dark clothing and they grin at each other, then at her, wide and infectious and oh how she loves them. 

“Thank you, Jugyeong-ah,” Suho says and Seojun nods. 

Jugyeong takes their hands. “Whatever happens,” she says seriously, “you’re gonna be amazing. You already are.” 

“So are you,” Seojun insists and Jugyeong squeezes his hand. 

The snow continues to fall, dusting their shoulders and hair. Jugyeong sucks in a sharp, frigid breath and blows it out in a cloud of steam. “Make a wish,” she says and closes her eyes, trusting Seojun and Suho to do the same. 

I wish for happiness, she thinks. For me and for them. And that we’ll all be together for a long time. 

When she opens her eyes again a few moments later, Suho and Seojun are both staring at her. 

“What did you wish for?” Suho asks. 

“It’s a secret,” she replies with a wink. “But the future.” 

“Mm,” Suho hums. “Me too.” 

“To the future,” Seojun says. “And whatever’s waiting.” 

“The future,” Suho echos. 

“And to us,” Jugyeong finishes, then tilts her head up to the sky. Snowflakes land on her face, spots of cold against her skin, but Suho and Seojun’s hands are warm in her own. 

the conclusion

There are more. Jugyeong’s sure eventually she’ll fill a whole journal. There’s so much to learn, to keep learning. She’s excited to see what kind of people she and Seojun and Suho will be at twenty-five, at thirty, thirty-five, forty. Maybe she won’t have them for that long, but she’ll keep dreaming. 

Now back one more time: to that summer between the second and last year of high school. To Suho’s apartment where they spent so much time. To mouths sticky with Melona and hair wet from showers, feet bare against the living room rug. To Mortal Kombat on the TV screen and Seojun shouting encouragements as Jugyeong tries to beat Suho. To feeling like she’s on top of the world when she does win and Seojun sweeps her off her feet, spinning her around. To kisses for the victor and the defeated, lips sweet from the ice cream. 

Life is simple here, in this little cocoon they’ve spun. I’m lucky, Jugyeong thinks, as she watches Suho pick Seojun up just to prove he can—Seojun’s hands on Suho’s shoulders and Suho’s arms tight around Seojun’s waist, both of them laughing so hard they can barely breathe. 

Her first loves, her ridiculous boys. She understands what Seyeon wrote in his letter to them: they make her days warmer, even when it’s hard. 

Warm … and full of sunlight.