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“Ah, for fuck’s sake,” Gi-hun’s voice echoes through the empty Kitchen, shamelessly licking a small burn forming on his palm.
Being Christmas Eve, he’s been up and down non-stop, from cleaning every small corner of the house, to go emergency shopping early in the morning, and now making dinner on his own. Fortunately, Sang-woo wasn’t expected to arrive late, even though his lovely son of a bitch boss requested a normal day of work.
He ached for his husband, the younger man working his hardest ever since he paid off his debt; wanting to, as he said while resting against Gi-hun’s shoulder “Not be afraid of our economic stability once more.”
Gi-hun glanced at the clock, 07:46PM reading on the digital device beside the coffee maker. Sang-woo will be home soon, he better be quick.
With an impressive speed, Seong drained the pasta and stirred the Alfredo sauce for the last time, their dinner ready to assemble as soon as Cho placed a foot inside the house. He took out the garlic bread from the oven and fetched Sang-woo’s favorite wine from the rack.
Soon enough, he hears the front door opening, the sound of Sang-woo’s shoes being stocked to the side followed by a tired sigh.
“Love, I’m home,” Cho greets as he walks to the Kitchen, gently smiling when he finally gets a glimpse of Gi-hun looking at him.
Walking so they can meet in the middle, the older man presses a kiss to the younger’s lips, allowing Sang-woo to rest his forehead against the crook of his neck. “Welcome home, Sang-woo.”
Feeling his hot breath kissing his skin, Gi-hun runs a hand through Sang-woo’s hair, moments like this – details like this being appreciated in secret by the younger man; there was no better thing than feeling loved and safe on Gi-hun’s arms.
They stayed in that position for a couple of minutes, none of them daring to be the first to break contact. Ultimately, Sang-woo detaches from the embrace, kissing Gi-hun’s cheek affectionately.
“I should go shower, I reek of closeted space and cheap coffee,” He says, quietly chuckling at his own joke.
Gi-hun cracks a smile and traces his lover’s jaw with his thumb, softly agreeing, “Yeah, I can notice that.” Both smile foolishly, like two dumb teenagers in love, before Seong sobers up. “I’m being serious, you actually stink. Go shower, I’ll set the table.”
Sang-woo slaps his chest jokingly, pretending to be offended by his comment, but he nods and heads towards the stairs, leaving Gi-hun to set everything up for dinner.
Seong moves quickly, serving two generous amounts of pasta on their respective plates, adding the sauce and shrimp as if he were a contestant in MasterChef. He fills a small basket with garlic bread and places it on the center of the table, putting a flower vase beside it just for the aesthetic.
By the time he’s grabbing two glasses, he feels a pair of arms encircling his waist from behind, Sang-woo's chin laying on top of his shoulder, almost making him drop the expensive items.
“Jesus, Sang-woo!” Gi-hun wails, Sang-woo scoffing at the high pitch on his husband’s voice. “You could’ve made my drop these! We don’t even drink wine fancily that often and you come and –“
Sang-woo cuts him off by turning his body and kissing him, holding Gi-hun close. Gi-hun yelps, but soon holds his face between his hands, deepening the kiss and feeling as close as possible to Cho. Sang-woo’s arms roam throughout his whole anatomy, stopping on his hips when Gi-hun wrapped both arms around his neck.
Minutes that felt like hours later, Gi-hun finally breaks the kiss, panting slightly as Sang-woo looked at him with one of the biggest smiles he’s ever seen on his face. “You– You are a masochist, coming at me from behind and shagging me senseless. Plus, I’m not that young anymore.”
Cho smiles, pecking his reddened lips before leaning towards the older man’s ear, “It didn’t seem that way last night, hyung.”
Blushing furiously, Seong pushes him off of him, both laughing as they walked towards the table. “I think the food’s already cold.” Gi-hun points out, sitting down in front of Sang-woo.
“It’ll be tasty as ever, hyung,” Cho comforts him, holding his hand briefly. “Thank you.”
Pouring red wine onto their glasses, Gi-hun winks at him with a side smile. “My pleasure, Sang-woo-ah.”
10 minutes prior midnight, both are lying on the sofa in front of the fireplace, Sang-woo’s back pressed to Gi-hun’s chest; enjoying the company from the other. A classic Christmas movie is playing on the TV, however Gi-hun knows Sang-woo isn’t even paying attention to it, the weight on his torso getting heavier being a solid proof of it.
Unconsciously, Seong glances towards the nearest bookstand, a small, golden packet catching his eye. Soon he remembers what exactly that item is.
Just when Sang-woo’s head went limp to his side, Gi-hun swiftly removes the exhausted body of his beloved and races to the stand, grabbing the pack of sparklers on his hands. A short beep from his Smartwatch notifies it’s midnight already.
Not wanting to waste more time and ruining a rather special moment for the younger man, Gi-hun rushes to Sang-woo’s side, carefully shaking his shoulder.
“Sang-woo-ah,” Seong whispers, Cho removing on his place childishly, refusing to be woken up. “Sang-woo, wake up for a moment, dear.”
Said nickname, causes Sang-woo’s eyes to flutter open, curious about the reason why Gi-hun would choose, from all the affectionate names he’s used in the past, dear.
“What?” He says, rubbing his eyes with his sleeve. Gi-hun simply smiles and straightens up, stretching his hand towards him as he hid the other behind his back.
“Come with me,”
Sang-woo groans, but accepts his husband’s expecting hand, allowing the older man to lift him up from the heavenly comfort of the couch. Gi-hun grabs one of his fluffiest coats and wraps it around Sang-woo’s shoulders, guiding him towards the front porch soon after.
Frowning at the sudden idea of Seong, Cho questions, “Hyung, what are we doing here? It’s freezing.”
Gi-hun smiles, opening the packet of sparklers and grabbing a lighter from his pocket, “We’re going to light some sparklers.”
Sang-woo’s face instantly illuminates, and Gi-hun can’t help the love he feels towards the younger man getting stronger every passing second. “Y-You remembered.”
Of course I remembered, Gi-hun thinks, bringing Sang-woo into a side hug. Why wouldn’t he remember Sang-woo’s wish ever since they were younger? How could he forget the request he made endlessly throughout their years of friendship of lightning sparklers on Christmas?
How could he forget Sang-woo’s face when he saw the packet of sparklers on Gi-hun’s hand back in the convenience store? Hopelessness and sadness on his eyes the moment he realized he couldn’t afford them anymore.
And Gi-hun, as the spoiling husband he was – and with the excuse of doing ‘an emergency shopping’ – bought them earlier that day. Just for him. Just for his Sang-woo.
Looking at Sang-woo’s eyes, Gi-hun murmurs, “Only for you, Sang-woo, not even Ga-yeong gets this kind of spoiling from me.”
Failing at wiping the wetness under his eyes without being seen, Cho tearily smiles, “I love you so much, Gi-hun. I can’t even put it into words how much I –“
This time, Gi-hun seals his lips with his own, the younger man feeling warm all over even though they were standing in the middle of one of the coldest nights in December. He surrenders to Gi-hun’s charm, leaning to his side when they separated.
With bright smiles on their faces, both men light up every sparkler inside the packet, laughing whenever they felt ticklish because of them, attempting to make figures with them as they agitated their arms.
Under the covered moonlight, Sang-woo can’t help but thank whoever people believed in for putting Gi-hun on his path when they were children. And for bringing him back to his life when he needed him the most. Because with Seong Gi-hun by his side, Cho Sang-woo was the luckiest man in the world.