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The first thing that Heeseung does when the plane lands is turn his airplane mode off and watch as his phone screen lights up with missed notification upon missed notification.
It takes a bit for his phone to catch up on the hundreds of messages from the group chat with Jongseong and the others, so while KaKaoTalk drains his battery bit by bit, Heeseung puts his shoes back on and gathers his things from the pocket in the seat in front of him, and takes off his seatbelt. The pilot is still spouting off about the weather and air quality when Heeseung gets his final notification: 2 missed phone calls and 2 voicemail messages—all from Jongseong.
There’s an ache in his chest when he thinks of his best friend, a tightness in his throat and a ball of tension on his belly at the idea of seeing Jongseong again after being away. He was only gone a week but it feels longer, because the two of them normally spend almost every waking second together. Heeseung can’t think of the last time they spent that much time away from each other, and he’s not keen to do it again.
Heeseung decides that he’ll listen to the messages on the way out of the plane and to the baggage claim, and in the meantime stays seated until the plane comes to a complete stop.
Once everyone is up and out of their seats and starting to grab their belongings, Heeseung helps the elderly lady that had been sitting in the seat beside him grab her bag from the overhead compartment. He makes sure to offer to take her and her things to whoever is coming to pick her up from the airport, but she waves off his offer, patting his hand affectionately.
Over the course of the fourteen hour flight from New York to Incheon, Heeseung has developed a sense of fondness for the kind woman, listening to the stories she told him about her son and his family, whom she had been visiting for Christmas. She had also listened patiently to him about his school stress and what he wanted to do after he graduates. The lady had even gently coaxed out a confession about his feelings for his best friend and had encouraged him to tell Jongseong.
During the last few hours of their flight, he had thought about it long and hard, to the point where he didn’t hear the flight attendant asking him if he wanted anything to drink. Embarrassing.
Heeseung puts in his AirPods and unlocks his phone to go to his voicemail inbox, hitting play on the first message as he steps off the plane and into the jet bridge that leads into the airport.
The first thing he hears is the crackle of the phone line, and Jongseong taking a deep breath.
“Hey. It's me. Jongseong. I don’t know why I said my name, obviously you’d know that it’s me. Anyways, um. I just called to say...well. Fuck, I don’t even know how to start this off. I’m sorry I’m such a mess right now, and I tried collecting my thoughts before making this call, but I’m sure you can tell how that went for me. I know you’re on the plane right now, and that’s why I called. Because I don’t think I could do this if you were on the other end listening to me talk. I don’t know what I’m waiting for. But, I don’t think I’d be able to say it. I’d just chicken out like I always do, even when you’re right in front of me. I just. I can’t wait to see you.”
two weeks ago
Jongseong is on the couch watching a few episodes of his current anime fixation when Heeseung finally gets home from a late dance team practice. He hears the apartment door open, the sound of keys dropping into the bowl that’s on a small table near where they keep their shoes. There’s really no need for keys, since their apartment door is locked using a passcode, but Jongseong knows that Heeseung likes to keep the regular key on him just in case.
Jongseong pauses the anime episode, letting his head fall back against the back of the couch and looks at Heeseung upside down, ignoring the ache in his neck as he does this. “Hi.”
“Hey,” Heeseung replies, dropping his school bag next to the couch and throwing himself onto the couch, head landing not-so-gently on the cushion that Jongseong’s got on his lap. “I’m pooped.”
“Why are you putting your sweaty, nasty head on our couch cushion,” Jongseong complains, trying to sound displeased, but getting distracted by how Heeseung’s eyelashes look against the top of cheeks. “You stink.”
“I never stink,” Heeseung scoffs, but he sits up anyways and the moment that Jongseong sees that the man is lifting his arm, he puts up the couch cushion to protect himself from Heeseung’s attempt to make him smell his armpit a second later. Heeseung is giggling and Jongseong tries his hardest not to laugh as well, but it’s always been difficult for him to keep a straight face—Heeseung’s laughter is infuriatingly infectious.
“Go shower,” Jongseong shouts, still avoiding Heeseung’s armpits.
“Don’t wanna!” Heeseung shouts back, but he stops trying to shove his underarms in Jongseong’s face. “I’m kidding, I’ll shower. But I wanted to tell you something first.”
Jongseong can feel his own face fall and he scowls when Heeseung laughs.
“Don’t look so scared, it’s nothing bad,” Heeseung tries to reassure him, and Jongseong shoves his shoulder reproachfully.
“How are you gonna tell me not to be scared when you premise whatever you want to tell me with the ‘we need to talk’ tone,” Jongseong whines, and Heeseung just laughs again, but his expression softens.
“I’m sorry I scared you. I just wanted to let you know that I’m gonna be gone for a week next week,” Heeseung says, his tone is casual, his expression neutral, but Jongseong knows that the man is wary about his reaction to this piece of news.
If Jongseong is being honest, his stomach does drop a little at this, but he tries to stay neutral as well. “For what?”
“The team and I are going to a dance conference in New York. It’s going to have an informal showcase day, and then they’re having workshop classes with some of the most famous dancers and choreographers in the industry,” Heeseung says, and Jongseong can’t help but smile at the excitement that colors his voice, and the way it lights up his face and makes his eyes sparkle.
“That sounds amazing,” Jongseong says, genuinely excited for his best friend. Secretly, he’s a little sad, because he knows he’s going to miss Heeseung so badly. “How long did you say you’d be gone? A week?” When Heeseung nods, Jongseong grins and says, jokingly, “Ugh, good, a break from your annoying ass.”
Heeseung scoffs, and it’s his turn to shove Jongseong’s shoulder. “More like a break from your annoying ass.”
As the elder gets up from the couch, Jongseong doesn’t notice the way Heeseung’s smile dims a little as he heads towards his room to grab his things before he showers. All Jongseong does is frown at the paused anime episode screen, already not looking forward to his best friend being gone.
one week ago
Jongseong watches fondly as Sunoo tries to shove another bottle of peach soju into Jaeyun’s hand, his reasoning being that he thinks the boy should loosen up and get drunk with everyone else for once. Admittedly, Jaeyun usually tries to stay more sober than the rest of them and ends up taking care of anyone who goes a little overboard.
Everyone is gathered at his and Heeseung’s apartment and it’s the night before Heeseung is supposed to fly out to New York with his dance team. A roughly put together going away party, of sorts.
“If I get drunk, who's gonna help Jongseong carry you kids when you pass out?” Jaeyun asks, raising an eyebrow as he sets the bottle onto the coffee table.
“Kids?” Riki scoffs, sniffing petulantly, “I am not a kid.”
“When you’re sick, you make me buy you dinosaur chicken nuggets so you can eat with rice,” Jaeyun says, snickering. Sunoo points at him like he’s made a good point, Riki just glares, taking a long pull from his beer.
“He doesn’t need help,” Sunoo says, sounding completely confident in Jongseong’s ability to carry an average of 180 centimeters of practically deadweight. “Right, hyung?”
“I’m big and strong,” Jongseong says, dramatically flexing both arms to the delight of Jungwon, who starts giggling. Clearly the kid is a bit more than tipsy. Jongseong ruffles his hair fondly, dropping a water bottle into his lap pointedly.
Jongseong’s watches as Heeseung gets up and heads towards the hallway, probably going to their bathroom. Jongseong knows he’s right when he hears the fan start up. When he turns his attention back to the rest of the group. and he notices Sunghoon watching him, and he’s smiling softly, but there’s a little bit of a sad downturn in his eyes. Jongseong can feel the heat rising up his neck and looks away, like it’ll save him.
“Jongseong, come help me bring these empty bottles to the kitchen,” Sunghoon says, nodding towards the several beginning to crowd the coffee table. The boy is looking at him expectantly, and it’s not like he can say no.
Jongseong pushes himself off the carpeted floor and the two of them begin grabbing some of the empty bottles and some random trash and head to the kitchen.
“Are you going to be okay while he’s gone?” Sunghoon’s tone is casual, but he’s serious as he looks at Jongseong as they begin sorting the recycling.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I?”
“Jongseong.”
It’s not like everyone doesn’t know what he feels for Heeseung, but having anyone allude to the fact is still embarrassing. Everyone knows that he’s been in love with the man for as long as he can remember, but it doesn’t change how he naturally reacts to the fact being known. “You make it sound like I’m codependent,” Jongseong mutters, heat in his cheeks.
“Not quite, but almost,” Sunghoon says, but he’s gentle about it. Heeseung is the only subject that Sunghoon is gentle about when it comes to Jongseong, and for that, Jongseong is grateful. He doesn’t know if he could handle the humiliation that would come with Sunghoon bullying him about this too. “What with how much time you both spend together.” Jongseong sighs, defeated, because there’s no point lying or downplaying anything when Sunghoon is the one asking, because he always ends up knowing everything somehow anyway.
“I’m going to miss him,” Jongseong says finally, and they both watch as Heeseung comes back from the bathroom and rejoins the group on their living room floor. “It’ll be pretty lonely without him here. But it’s only a week. I’ll be fine.” He says this last bit more as a reminder to himself, and Sunghoon squeezes his shoulder affectionately.
“Well, you’re welcome at mine and Jaeyun’s if you ever want some company,” Sunghoon says, and Jongseong smiles gratefully.
“I don’t think I’ll need to stay over, but thank you.” And Jongseong means it.
“Of course,” Sunghoon replies, and he ruffles Jongseong’s hair, just to annoy him.
Heeseung starts heading over to where the two of them are standing in the kitchen, and Jongseong feels a little spike of panic in his heart but admonishes himself. There is nothing about Heeseung that should make him panic like this, and yet the mere sight of him walking over sends his heart racing a little.
“What are we talking about?” Heeseung asks, starting to help rinse out the bottles. Sunghoon just smiles and starts walking back towards their friends on the living room floor, patting Heeseung’s shoulder as he passes by.
“How much fun we’ll have without you,” Jongseong replies, snickering at the pout that the man gives him. “The peace and quiet that I’ll have.”
“Wow, thanks. Some best friend you are,” Heeseung says, frowning. “I can tell you’re gonna miss me.”
“I’m allowed to look forward to total relaxation,” Jongseong says, and he laughs when Heeseung shoves his shoulder.
“You can’t relax when I’m here?”
“Not when you’re up at ass o’clock screaming at your League teammates,” Jongseong says, shoving him back.
Heeseung doesn’t say anything, just smiles that smile of his, shoulders lifting to his ears as he giggles because he knows he can’t counter. Jongseong loves this Heeseung, the smiley version of him that laughs without any inhibitions, the softer, real version of him.
He doesn’t realize he’s smiling until Heeseung elbows him and asks, “What?”
Jongseong just shakes his head and looks away, and even then, he can’t seem to get rid of the upturn of his lips. “Nothing.”
Later that night, after everyone has left and they’ve cleaned up, after they’ve parted ways to get ready for bed, Jongseong knocks gently on Heeseung’s door. He doesn’t wait for a reply before he’s turning the handle and walking in, shutting the door behind him.
Heeseung is on his phone, the bluish light illuminating his features as he lays there, propped up slightly on his pillows. When he sees Jongseong, the corner of his mouth quirks up. Jongseong can’t help the way the heat rises up his neck.
Heeseung is setting his phone aside as Jongseong lifts the blanket and gets in. They lie there, inches apart in the dark, staring at each other in silence for a moment. Jongseong takes a deep breath.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“I know.”
“I’m going to miss you a fuckton, hyung.”
“I’ll miss you too,” Heeseung says, and his voice is barely a whisper.
Jongseong reaches out a hand and finds Heeseung’s and their fingers intertwine. He gives it a squeeze, and he doesn’t let go.
present
I’ve missed you a lot while you’ve been gone, and not just because you’re my best friend and we basically spend every waking second together but. I don’t know. I just feel like there’s something off when you’re not here, you know? Like something important is missing. And I am missing something important. You’re important to me. I’m just talking in circles now, this is so embarrassing.
5 days ago
Jongseong can’t help the ache in his chest, the pang he feels somewhere underneath his sternum. He misses his best friend, and it’s almost embarrassing just how much he feels his absence.
He’s in class, listlessly sitting through a finance class lecture, twirling his pen in his hand as he stares unseeingly at the back of the head of the person sitting just ahead of him. His phone buzzes quietly on the table and lights up with a text notification, but he barely notices. It isn’t until it buzzes again a moment later that he bothers to check the screen.
hs: you can sleep in my bed if you want
hs: i know you miss me ;)
Jongseong can feel his cheeks heat up as he smiles widely down at his phone, quickly picking it up to reply.
j: i do not
hs: you can’t lie to me
hs: i bet you were already sleeping in my bed anyway
Jongseong can feel heat wash over his entire body as he reads Heeseung’s messages, because he’s not wrong.
j: you’re so annoying...go dance or whatever it is you do
hs: OR WHATEVER IT IS I DO...wow gn you suck
Jongseong sends a flurry of heart emojis and love memes in reply, laughing at the mental image of Heeseung pouting down at his phone. Heeseung is at his most annoying and obnoxious when he’s comfortable, and Jongseong has the privilege and the misfortune of witnessing it all.
These short and sweet back and forths over text are mostly all that Jongseong gets because of the time difference between Seoul and New York, and they help the ache subside a little bit. What also helps is going out and hanging with their friends, doing whatever shenanigans that they drag him along to participate in.
Occasionally, Heeseung will send him photos of random things that remind him of Jongseong, or in the spare minutes that he has in between workshops and other things he’s doing with his team, they’ll Facetime. The short calls consist of Heeseung rambling on excitedly about what he’s doing over there and Jongseong listening with that goofy, lovesick little expression that he tends to adopt whenever anything involves his Heeseung.
One call comes when he’s watching a movie with Sunghoon and Jaeyun at their apartment, and Sunghoon makes exaggerated kissy faces at him while they talk. When Jongseong hangs up, Sunghoon pounces.
“You’re disgusting,” Sunghoon declares, wrinkling his nose. “You’re so in love with Heeseung-hyung, it’s sickening.”
“You’re one to talk,” Jongseong grumbles, ears hot.
“Yeah, except the difference is that Jaeyun is actually my boyfriend and I’m not just giving him the ‘I’m in love with you please notice me’ eyes in hopes that he catches on,” Sunghoon snorts, affectionately ruffling Jaeyun’s hair. Jaeyun at least has the decency to look like he feels a little bad about his boyfriend humiliating Jongseong.
“You shut your mouth,” Jongseong says, burying his face in one of their stupid decorative couch pillows. “I can’t just tell him that I’ve been in love with him forever.”
“Why the fuck not?” Sunghoon snorts. “You guys are practically dating already.”
“It’s more complicated than that.”
“It really isn’t,” Jaeyun says, and he’s smiling and his voice is kind, so it’s easier for Jongseong to listen to him. “You make it very clear that you love him. There’s no way he doesn’t already know. I don’t know what you’re waiting for.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jongseong mumbles, and if it were possible for his skin to burn any hotter, he’d be engulfed in flames by now.
The couple just looks at each other, then looks at him like he’s the dumbest little thing they had ever seen. It’s humiliating knowing how obvious he is about his feelings. Jongseong just can’t help himself. He’s nothing if not earnest to a fault. He wears his heart very clearly on his sleeve and it would take more out of him to change his behavior to hide his feelings.
“If he knows about my feelings and hasn’t done anything about it, he probably doesn’t feel the same then,” Jongseong concludes. “He doesn’t feel the same.” He feels the need to repeat himself and it only makes the sinking in the pit of his stomach worse. Suddenly the aching in his chest is even worse than before.
“Don’t take this the wrong way but, are you fucking stupid?” Jaeyun sounds as frustrated as Jongseong has ever heard him, and it takes him aback. Sunghoon looks like he’s trying not to laugh, but the glint of his teeth in the low lighting of their living room gives away his amusement at his boyfriend’s sudden outburst.
“Uh.” Jongseong sounds extremely intelligent. He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “What.”
“I asked if you were fucking stupid,” Jaeyun deadpans, and Jongseong blinks.
“That’s kind of fucking rude,” Jongseong mutters.
“I don’t understand how I’m supposed to explain to you that Heeseung feels the same way,” Jaeyun says. “The fact that I have to in the first place is just–” He sighs. “Ridiculous.”
“How do you know he feels the same though?” Jongseong’s heart is racing, and it’s almost enough to override the ache in his chest.
“How do you not?” Sunghoon bursts out. “We could call up any one of our friends and ask them if they think that Heeseung is in love with you and they all would say yes.”
“You’re lying,” Jongseong insists. “There’s just no way. There’s absolutely–”
“I’m going to beat your ass,” Jaeyun interrupts.
“Fine. Say he is in love with me. Why has he not said anything either?”
“Simple. You’re both fucking stupid,” Sunghoon says simply. “There is no other explanation. Dumb and dumber are in love and you both are cowards.” Jongseong splutters.
“Babe, I think I’d lay off on the ‘coward’ insult, seeing as it was me that had to make the first move when it came to us,” Jaeyun snorts, and Sunghoon shoves his shoulder, wagging his finger.
“This isn’t about us,” Sunghoon huffs. “Anyways, Heeseung is just a lot subtler than you.”
“A lot,” Jaeyun agrees. “But whenever you’re not paying attention, and when he thinks no one is looking, he has this look in his eye when he’s watching you.”
“Like he’s never seen anything quite like you,” Sunghoon says, and his tone is gentle for the first time. “He looks at you like you’re everything.”
Jongseong has to look away, his eyes landing on the wall opposite him, staring unseeingly at the flashes of light and the shadows from the TV.
“I am terrified of telling him how I feel,” Jongseong says finally. “Nothing scares me more than that.”
“You miss one hundred percent of the shots you don’t take, right?” Jaeyun reminds him. “You can’t give up if you’ve never even tried.”
present
Heeseung barely registers the people around him as he walks through the airport. He’s been homesick but the sound of Jongseong’s voice instantly takes that sinking, aching feeling away.
There was so much that he saw in New York that reminded him of Jongseong, and there wasn’t a moment where he didn’t wish Jongseong was there with him, experiencing all the things he did with him, by his side. It would be another time among many where Heeseung wished Jongseong had joined the dance team with him. Sure, they do virtually everything else together already, but this was just another thing, right? Spending even more time together wouldn’t hurt.
Jongseong would always joke that Heeseung being on the dance team on his own was healthy for their friendship, gave them some space and time apart so they wouldn’t be so dependent on each other. Heeseung can’t say that he’s wrong about that, but still. Dance is something that he loves and wishes he could share with the person he loves. Heeseung always winces at this thought.
“Honestly, I think I’m just stalling, I don’t know. Let me just. Get to the point. I love you, Heeseung. And not just as someone who’s been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I love you so much. I’m in love with you. And I think I always have been. God, I can’t believe I just said that out loud. Um, do you remember that time one night when I was 16 and we were standing on that hill that overlooked the city? It was snowing—”
The voicemail cuts off. Jongseong has been rambling for too long and Heeseung can’t help but giggle to himself, because it’s so characteristic of Jongseong. It’s one of the things that he loves about him.
Jongseong just can’t seem to shut up, and Heeseung is happy to listen to him.
Heeseung reaches the baggage claim area of the airport and begins playing the second voicemail.
“Sorry, the voicemail was cut off and I had to call again so I could continue. I feel so stupid. Anyways. It was snowing and we were so cold but I wanted to go there anyway and you agreed even though you were half frozen. We stood there looking out at all the lights and we didn’t even say anything. I looked over at you, and the lights were making your eyes sparkle and there were snowflakes caught in your eyelashes, and I think that was the moment I knew, you know? You looked so pretty right then, and the cold was turning your lips purple and I just remembered getting this urge to kiss you, and then you looked at me and smiled and instantly I wasn’t feeling cold anymore. Basically I just called to tell you that I can’t wait to see you. I’ll be waiting at the arrivals gate for you. And I love you. It’s okay if you don’t love me back. You’re my best friend before anything else. Um, bye, I guess.”
Heeseung thinks he stops breathing. The breath he’s just taken is stuck in his chest, frozen inside him and he has to remind himself to inhale and exhale, like he’s forgotten how.
Jongseong loves him. Jongseong loves him. Jongseong loves him.
Somewhere beneath his sternum, his heart races and his stomach unknots itself, and then it washes over him: the relief.
Heeseung laughs to himself, pays no mind to the people near him giving him strange looks because he’s filled with indescribable feelings that threaten to bubble up and overflow and he doesn’t think he’s felt this elated in a long, long time.
And it only makes sense that Jongseong would be the one to make him feel this way.
Heeseung thinks back to that night. It had been freezing, the harsh winter breeze in Seoul sending the snowflakes flurrying about in the air and landing so delicately on Jongseong’s hair and on the tip of his nose and on his lips.
He remembers that night well. It was one of the nights where Heeseung was reminded of just how much he felt for Jongseong, just how overwhelming the feelings he had for him were, how they threatened to overflow and spill from his lips without warning.
Jongseong had given him extra heat packs to put into his coat pockets, but nothing was like the warmth Heeseung felt with Jongseong’s arm pressing against his own, the heat that he felt in his cheeks when Jongseong looked over at him and looked at him. He could feel the way Jongseong’s gaze flitted from his eyes and down the slope of his nose, saw the way it paused briefly on his lips before flicking back up to his eyes.
They had looked at each other for a second, and at that moment Heeseung wasn’t sure what it was that he was waiting for. The timing felt right, the overwhelming urge to kiss Jongseong was there, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He’d do it one day, he didn’t want to keep Jongseong waiting for too long. The fear was even more overwhelming than his feelings. So he had looked away, feigned amazement as he pointed out the stars above them and the lights around them.
He never thought it would take this long for them to get over that fear, or whatever it was that kept them waiting for one another. In a way, Jongseong is braver than he’ll ever be.
Heeseung is jolted from his thoughts by the buzz of his phone in his hand. A text from Jongseong.
j: i’m waiting for you in the arrivals area
And when he looks up, the conveyor belt has begun to move, the luggage beginning to spill out. It takes a few moments for Heeseung’s bag to appear, and in the time he spends waiting, he thinks about what to say to Jongseong when he sees him and thinks about what he’ll do.
Heeseung is nervous and he thinks he shouldn’t be. This is just Jongseong, after all. Jongseong is home, Jongseong is safety and comfort and remembering that does wonders for his heart.
When his bag finally does come around, he has a bit of trouble pulling it off the belt, because his hands are shaking a little and it makes him fumble. The knot in Heeseung’s stomach tightens as he begins walking to the arrivals gate, his mouth dry as he approaches the large doorway that everyone walks through. He stops off to the side so he isn’t in the way, taking a moment to calm himself, to shake himself out of whatever it is that is making it hard for him to breathe. It’s just Jongseong, and yet it’s not just Jongseong. He loves Jongseong and Jongseong loves him and that fact is still overwhelming.
Heeseung steels himself, clenches and unclenches his fists before he’s walking determinedly through and out to the arrivals area, and it only takes him a few moments before he spots Jongseong standing off to the side, his hands in his pockets and looking so, so beautiful.
His breath gets caught in his chest again when he sees the way one corner of his mouth quirks up into that signature Jongseong half-smile, the one that makes him look so soft and sends Heeseung’s heart into a fluttering, erratic mess.
Heeseung can’t help the way the speed he is walking at picks up, can’t help the way he drops his things onto the ground and throws his arms around Jongseong and holds him fast and tight, suddenly choked up when he feels soft, surprised laughter rumble Jongseong’s chest.
When he pulls away, Jongseong is smiling so big, the biggest smile Heeseung has seen in awhile and it’s absolutely devastating.
“Hey,” Jongseong says quietly, and they’re so close Heeseung could count his eyelashes.
“Hi,” Heeseung replies, and he’d be embarrassed at how breathless he sounds if he weren’t so happy to see his best friend.
The love of his life, he thinks.
Heeseung presses his forehead against Jongseong’s and closes his eyes for a moment, breathing in the moment, breathing in that signature Jongseong scent that instantly makes him feel at home.
“Are you okay, hyung?”
Heeseung opens his eyes and sees the worried wrinkle of Jongseong’s brows, and he smiles, pressing his thumb to the crease and smoothing it down.
“I love you too,” Heeseung says, and it slips out, it feels so natural that he can’t believe that he hasn’t said it before. “I love you too.”
“You do?” Jongseong sounds both like he doesn’t quite believe it and like the weight has been lifted off his shoulders.
“I do. I’m sorry I kept you waiting,” Heeseung says, and he lifts one hand to cup Jongseong’s face, thumb brushing over his cheekbone. He smiles, nudging Jongseong’s nose with his own. “Can I kiss you?”
For a moment, it’s quiet, and they’re looking at each other, waiting.
Until Jongseong breaks the silence and smiles that smile of his.
“You better.”