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From a very young age, Sang-woo wanted to be Gi-hun’s shadow. Follow him everywhere he went and never leave his side, the small 6-year-old claiming ‘Hyung and I are meant to be together forever’, stealing loving glances from his mother who found the attitude of her only child adorable.
Gi-hun was more than pleased to allow little Sang-woo on his tow every day, considering the youngest Cho the dongsaeng he never had. After all, Sang-woo proclaimed Gi-hun was his role model, although their age difference was only 3 years apart.
Growing up, Gi-hun and Sang-woo’s mothers weren’t alarmed by the time their first-borns spent together, playing classic children's games in a nearby park; enjoying the company of the other; having sleepovers almost every day, staying up until almost dawn. To their eyes, Sang-woo and Gi-hun were brothers.
For 13-year-old Sang-woo, it was the complete opposite.
His mom had always talked to him about ‘the one’: the person meant for him to spend the rest of his life with; mostly referred to as ‘the woman’. Mrs. Cho talked about how he’d feel small butterflies flying on his stomach whenever he looked at her, and all he’ll ever want to do is be by her side.
The reason why Sang-woo spent hours looking at Gi-hun with a confused look, the older teen distracted enough he never noticed it.
If a woman was meant for him, why did he felt those annoying insects when his best friend was around?
Why did he want to just be by Gi-hun’s side?
His questions were answered the day a group of bullies assaulted him at the end of a normal School day, leaving him badly injured beside a dumpster until Gi-hun finally showed up on his bike. If Cho was honest, it was the first time he saw Seong so furious, but the tenderness on his touch as he carried him to the nearest Hospital proved maybe Gi-hun cared about him just as much.
That same afternoon, as he sat by Sang-woo’s side on his bed, Gi-hun grunted, “I’m going to kill those bastards.”
Used to his hyung’s vulgar vocabulary, Sang-woo giggles as quietly as he can, cautious of not hoisting his bruised ribs. “Please don’t.”
“Oh, I will, Sang-woo-ah,” Gi-hun protests, holding his hand and kissing the back of it. “Nobody touches my boy and ends unharmed.”
Blushing from head to toe, Sang-woo’s heartbeat increases, an unfamiliar sensation unraveling on his chest when he realizes Gi-hun called him ‘his’.
At night, he falls asleep with a foolish smile on his face.
The day Sang-woo turns 15, his mother orchestrates a surprise trip to Jeju Island, Gi-hun and his mother as their guests; words wouldn’t be sufficient to define the joy he feels in his heart as he hurriedly assembles his baggage. After two hours, he’s sitting by Gi-hun’s side on the airplane.
Using his clearly fake fear of heights as an excuse, he holds Gi-hun’s hand the entire flight, dozing off on each other’s shoulders at some point.
When they land, a guide takes them on a full adventure trip throughout the whole island, Sang-woo’s eyes are lost on volcanic landscapes of craters and cave-like lava tubes the older man explains to them.
But Sang-woo’s favorite part isn’t the glorious views from the balcony of his room, nor the daydream places they visited.
It's the back hugs Gi-hun gives him just to point something in the distance; the soft kisses pressed to his lips when nobody's watching; the gleam in his eyes when he stares at him like he's the most invaluable thing in the world.
When night falls, their mothers retire to sleep, with the only warning of not staying up too late. Sang-woo promises they won't with crossed fingers behind his back. And once alone, both can finally be everything.
They ran around the shore laughing when any of them stumbled and fell into the water, dragging each other towards safer ground when they became aware of how dangerous being there actually was.
Lost in their own world, hours fly out of control, collapsing on a large towel near some lounge chairs when their bodies can't go on anymore. Sang-woo instantly squirms between Gi-hun’s legs, relaxing against his firm chest.
“Hyung,” Sang-woo whispers as the sea’s breeze refreshed their faces. “Will we ever be free?”
Gi-hun’s arms hold him closer as the older teenager looks for an answer. The first rays of the sun are peeking in the distance, painting Sang-woo’s milky skin in soft golden tones. Brushing his lips to his lover’s wavy hair, Gi-hun breaks the silence.
“I don’t know, baby,” He honestly answers, feeling Sang-woo curling on his chest. “But whatever it happens, you will always be mine.”
Cho’s face raises, and removing the immense glasses that caused many insecurities on the shorter teen, Gi-hun kisses him carefully, memorizing the taste of strawberries and chocolate in Sang-woo’s lips.
Sang-woo moans in protest when Gi-hun breaks off the kiss, closing his eyes anon a hand wraps gently around his throat. “And I will always be yours.”
Illuminated by the warm and beautiful sun, both teenagers rise from the sand, sharing a last kiss before going back to their hotel room; leaving behind the life they desired but couldn’t have in public; going back to be ‘the closest best friends in Ssangmun-dong’.
Years later, amidst endless problems; debts, heartbreaking ruptures, distance, and the weight of the world laying on their shoulders, the mere idea of being what they were back in that summer day in Jeju Island seemed so far away. Not with Gi-hun being an absent father and Sang-woo immersed in work in a fancy office in Seoul.
Gi-hun lays his head on top of his folded knees, watching a couple playing in the sea with immense smiles on their faces. Seong feels his heart ache, but he couldn’t be more used to it by now. Gi-hun’s mind wanders between the memories of Sang-woo in his teenage years, a dumb yet so bright smile in his face whenever he looked at him; the pride in his eyes when he noticed Gi-hun between the crowd on his graduation; his slim arms wrapped around his neck as they kissed.
He wipes the tear under his eye before it has the chance to stream down, avoiding at all costs being spotted crying on his own on the coast; there were a couple of girls looking at him with mocking smiles on their faces anyway.
Seong stays on the sand for hours, during darkness and uncharacteristic cold breeze, trying to feel something that wasn’t pain and regret. Trying to, as stupid as it sounds, keep Sang-woo’s memories alive.
The sun begins to peek out when footsteps resonate on his back, a large form taking a seat beside him, but he’s too numb to even notice its presence.
“I knew I’d find you here,” The form speaks, and a bucket of ice-cold water drops on Gi-hun’s body because he knows that voice even after all these years.
Cho Sang-woo.
Quickly turning his head towards the origin of the sound, he’s drowned with the portrait of his old, lost love; a beard of a couple of days gives a strong contrast to his pale face and a thinner pair of silver glasses decorates his still wonderful dark eyes.
“Sang-woo-ah,” He chokes out, trying to assimilate the younger’s presence; convincing himself it wasn’t a dream. “H-How? How did you –?”
“Know where you were?” Cho completes his question, smiling slightly. “I may have talked with your mother, well… I think it’s more accurate to say she threatened me.”
“Oh, God,” Gi-hun scoffs, covering his face with his hands; Sang-woo’s laugh somehow making his sorrowful life colored in the most beautiful tones they could exist.
Knowing he was standing in front of the probably only chance he’ll ever have, Gi-hun gets closer to him, taking Sang-woo off guard. “Sang-woo I –”
The younger’s hands are around his neck before he can utter another word, his face narrowly close to his he can feel Sang-woo’s hot, minty breath. “Do you remember what you promised me here all those years ago, hyung?”
Hope and desire flash on Cho’s eyes, and Gi-hun can’t help but hold him by his waist; a place where his hands fitted in absolute perfection. “I do, Sang-woo, I still do.”
Closing his eyes, the younger man mutters, “Say it again.”
Fulfilling Cho’s wish, Gi-hun closes the gap between them, their noses touching slightly. “You will always be mine,”
Without breaking contact, Gi-hun’s hands move automatically, snatching Sang-woo’s glasses away and throwing them onto the sand; observing in clear detail the vulnerability on Cho’s face, his expecting lips trembling marginally.
“And I will always be yours.”
Wrapped in the golden sunrise, the space between them disappears, erasing years of regret and misery; of tears and reclaims. Once more, their lives fit together like puzzle pieces, demonstrating how even when the world attempted to keep them apart, an innocent childhood love was meant to last forever.
Back in each other’s arms, both appreciate the rising sun at its full gloriousness, witnessing what could be the new beginning they had been waiting for.