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Jongseong carefully cradles the piece of paper in his hands. The ink is still fresh, and he's sure if he were to press a finger to his carefully written name it'd come back black.

"Well," Heeseung says, shoving his baseball cap further down his head. He still smells vaguely like alcohol. "This will be a great tax right off."

Jongseong turns to him. "Marriage isn't a—Are you—Heeseung—" He stops himself to rub a hand over his face, shoulders slouching. "What the fuck did we do?"

Heeseung grins at him, all teeth. Jongseong can't believe this. "We got married."

"This is all Sunghoon's fault." Jongseong attempts to crumple the piece of paper but Heeseung's hand stops him. He lets Heeseung yank it out of his hand. "He's the one that wanted to go to fucking Vegas like a dipshit. I wanted to go to Catalina." He is fully aware that he's whining, but he doesn't care.

"You seemed to enjoy yourself." Heeseung says flippantly. Heeseung is also is a horrible, horrible man. A horrible man that Jongseong is apparently married to now.

"Don't. Just please—don't." Jongseong continues whining. He has a feeling he's going to be doing a lot of that until they figure this out.

Heeseung's eyes sparkle when Jongseong looks at him.

He feels like he's gonna throw up. "I fucking hate you." Jongseong feels the need to say, even though hating Heeseung is probably the one thing he's incapable of doing.

Sunghoon approaches them before Jongseong does something even more idiotic than marry Heeseung—like punch him in the face. There's a bag of overpriced airport chips in his hand. "You guys are approximately ten hours into your marriage and you're already fighting? That has to be a record."

"The only record we're going to be breaking is how far I can reach my foot up your ass." Jongseong snarks.

Sunghoon raises a hand in defeat, eyebrows raised in offense, like he has no idea why Jongseong would talk to him like that.

Heesung frowns. "You're not allowed to touch Sunghoon's ass before mine, that's literally cheating."

"Why are you acting like we're actually in a relationship?" Jongseong is sure the people around them at the gate waiting for their flights are either so confused or absolutely enthralled by the disaster that is unfolding around them. Jongseong swears that if he opens TikTok tonight to a viral video about them he's going to kill someone. Probably Heeseung.

"We're married now, Jongseong," Heeseung says lightly, eyes filled with mirth. His mouth quirks up, almost like he's forcing himself to not smile.

This is a nightmare. "I'm calling my dad." Jongseong deadpans.

"Oh, he's going to be so happy for us." Heeseung turns his attention to the planes driving past the window. "I'll have to send your mom flowers as an apology."

"An apology for accidentally getting married to her son?"

Heeseung shakes his head. "No, for not inviting her to the wedding."

Spit catches in Jongseong's throat. "There was no wedding!" He wheezes out, hands clutched tightly into fists.

"You guys got eloped." Sunghoon shakes the last remaining crumbs into his mouth before crumping the bag noisily. "You didn't even invite me." He turns to Jongseong, eyes narrowed. "I'm mad about that, by the way."

"How did this even happen?" Jongseong whines. If he's being honest, he only remembers a third of their week long trip.

Heeseung turns to him, rubbing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting. Or, as comforting as Heeseung Lee is capable of being. "You see, when two people love each other very much—"

"We don't love each other." Jongseong cuts him off, feeling slightly hysterical. "Why am I the only one freaking out about this?"

Sunghoon fiddles with the straps of his carry on. "What is freaking out gonna do?"

"Make me feel better?" Jongseong asks petulantly.

Sunghoon looks at him expectantly. "Do you feel better?"

Jongseong shrinks back into his seat. "No."

"Then change tactics."

Just then, Heeseung looks up from his phone. Jongseong peeks over and about cries. He's looking at apartment listings. "Do you wanna get a place just for us? Or we could move into yours."

Heeseung is entirely too dedicated to this whole bit. "Why mine?"

"It's bigger and closer to campus. I'm graduating soon." Heeseung shrugs. "It doesn't matter to me, but it does for you."

The intercom pings with a notification that their flight is boarding. Jongseong stares at Heeseung, unmoving.

Okay. This is how he's gonna play it. Nothing Jongseong can do to change that, because he is incredibly aware of the fact that Heeseung doesn't listen to anyone but himself.

Heeseung's eyes are blank. His throat bobs as he swallows.

Jongseong stares into them, wholly knowing he'll never win a staring contest against Heeseung. He sighs and admits defeat, internally cursing his perpetually dry eyes. "We should get in line for boarding."

"Okay, husband." Just then, Heeseung's eyes turn into tiny crescents as he smiles softly at Jongseong, the former unnerving blankness filling with…something so Heeseung Jongseong struggles to put a name to it.

Jongseong leans closer to him, the concept of personal space be damned. He tries to fake Heeseung out, but all it does is make Heeseung grab the back of his neck, pulling him even closer. "We're getting a divorce the second we land."

"You don't really mean that." Heeseung pouts. He moves even closer to Jongseong, mouth quirking up in a smirk when Jongseong scowls. "And plus, wouldn't an annulment be easier?"

Before Jongseong can question why Heeseung seems to know intimately about ending a marriage, Sunghoon clears his throat loudly.

He looks between the two of them, expression souring. "The perpetual feeling of being a third wheel isn't going to go away, is it?"

"That's what happens when you hang out with married couples," Heeseung says, swinging his bag over his shoulder as he stands up. "It's okay Hoonie, we'll hook you up. Are swingers your vibe?"

"We are not hooking Sunghoon up with swingers that just want him for his body." Jongseong hisses, following after him.

Heeseung hums when Jongseong tugs at his sleeve. "Okay honey."

"Don't call me that," Jongseong replies, scowling.

"Love?"

"Stop it."

"Baby?"

Jongseong pointedly ignores the way his chest tightens. "I can't stand you."

"Then lean on me." Heeseung turns back to look at him. His mouth is set in a smile that removes all moisture from Jongseong's mouth. "I won't let you fall."

Heeseung follows him home. Jongseong holds out for five very long minutes before he blurts out: "Why are you here?"

"We're married," Heeseung says in lieu of an actual response that would give him the right to be in Jongseong's apartment right now. He looks at home on Jongseong's fancy leather couch, stretched out like it's his name on the lease. A blanket Jongseong made in a caffeine induced dissociative state during freshman year finals week is thrown across his lap.

"But we're not." Jongseong splutters. Because it's the truth. For some reason he's the only person that recognizes how insane this entire situation is. Heeseung keeps referring to him as 'husband'. Jongseong kinda wants to die.

During their flight, a flight attendant had approached them asking if they wanted snacks or a drink. Before Jongseong could open his mouth Heeseung had flashed her a smile and said, "My husband and I are fine. Thank you."

Heeseung ignores him. "What size would you say the marriage license is? I want to frame it."

"Who frames their marriage license?" Jongseong asks, collapsing on the couch next to Heeseung. He takes a chance and throws his feet over Heeseung's lap.

"Me." Heeseung gingerly grabs his feet and rearranges them so they're both more comfortable. "Do you want to watch a show."

Jongseong hums. "Sure. Are you hungry?"

Heeseung nods. "I could eat."

"We can order out? Or I can make something," Jongseong hums.

Heeseung groans and sinks further into the couch. "I'm comfy. Let's just order something." His right hand has settled on Jongseong's calf, thumb rubbing tiny circles into the exposed skin.

Jongseong shivers. "The remote's by you."

Heeseung hands it to him. His shirt rides up when he stretches to grab it. He raises a brow at Jongseong when he catches him staring.

Jongseong flushes. "I pick the show, you pick dinner."

"Sounds like a plan." Heeseung settles back into the couch, and his hand makes its way back to Jongseong's leg.

For a bit of context: Jongseong met Heeseung for the first time during orientation his Freshman year. He was an RA and spoke in a quiet monotone the entire time; a breath of fresh air from his overly peppy coworkers. Jongseong was enamored the second he laid eyes on him.

In between Heeseung helping him with Stats homework and Jongseong teaching him how to make a meal that wasn't radioactive, Jongseong fell, and he fell hard. Jongseong has a pattern, you see. He sees an emotionally unavailable boy and suddenly he's beside himself. It's a problem. Sunghoon has tried to fix him but nothing he's done has ever worked.

Funnily enough, Heeseung might be the first guy his family and friends will approve of—despite Heeseung being the exact kind of boy Jongseong usually likes.

A paradox is defined in layman's terms as a self-contradictory statement that at first seems true. The Heeseung Lee paradox goes like this: the more you learn about how awful Heeseung is, the more you realize how perfect he is. A real 21st century man, if you will; selfish and apathetic, but so, so wonderful. In his own way. Or: in the way Jongseong likes.

For even more context as to why this is the worst thing to ever happen: Jongseong doesn't think anyone could ever love him—at least, in the way he loves people: overwhelming, head first, wholly. So really, this accidental marriage should benefit him. But Jongseong also knows Heeseung, and Jongseong doesn't think Heeseung could ever love him. For the same reasons Jongseong doesn't think someone could love him.

A paradox of their own. Jongseong loves Heeseung for all the reason's Heeseung could never love him.

And that is exactly why this is going to go up in smoke.

"You're too kind for your own good."

The summer before Jongseong's junior year and Heeseung's senior his family had invited Heeseung along on their vacation. It wasn't really a shock to his parents when he asked about the possibility of bringing a plus one; the surprise came when it was someone other than Sunghoon or Jungwon. They each had their own plans and Heeseung's parents were off in some random European country Jongseong forgot the name of the second it left Heeseung's pouty mouth. It was a no brainer to them.

"Is that a bad thing?" Heeseung charmed Jongseong's parents, because that's the kind of boy he is. Someone you don't bring home to meet mom and dad, but does wonderfully when you do. Another paradox, in a way.

"Just an observation." Heeseung had sat in silence for a moment. "I don't understand how someone like you could like someone like me."

"Why do you think you're so hard to like?" Jongseong, to his detriment, loves so much and so hard. And mostly he loves the wrong people for the right reasons. Heeseung is one of those people.

"We're very different people, Jongseong." Heeseung lazily swirled his wine in his glass.

"So?" Jongseong shifted in his seat to look Heeseung in his eyes. "Doesn't mean we can't enjoy the time we spend together."

Heeseung hummed. "I guess you're right. But you're always right, aren't you?"

"You ask a lot of questions when you don't want to talk about the topic at hand," Jongseong said, because even then he understood Heeseung in a way nobody, not even himself, truly understood.

"I guess I do."

Jongseong was more than a little drunk. His body had wracked with the force of his laughter. "God. I'm glad you came." Heeseung wasn't even being particularly funny, but Jongseong found him amusing all the same.

Heeseung turned to him, eyes uncharacteristically wide, like Jongseong had said something shocking. "Really?"

"I didn't think you would," Jongseong said, shrugging.

"Why wouldn't I?"

Jongseong paused. Heeseung looked at him with a seriousness in his eyes he hadn't understood.

"I don't know. I just—" Jongseong didn't know how to finish.

Heeseung didn't help him, because that's not the kind of boy he is. He just popped open another bottle of wine and refilled Jongseong's glass.

A few nights after they arrive back home, Jongseong calls his dad. He isn't sure why it took him so long.

Jongseong tends to go into things headfirst, a steadfast belief that everything will work itself out if he cares enough for it to carrying him through everything. The conversation with his dad is an example. On the contrary, the entire situation is the one thing Jongseong has actually done that he didn't apply that philosophy to.

"Heeseung and I got married," he says the second the call connects, cutting over his father's steady "Hello?"

Jongseong's father is probably who ingrained his worldview into his brain, because he takes Jongseong's admission in stride. He laughs lightly. "Oh? Congratulations Jay Jay."

"It wasn't." Jongseong stops himself, groaning. "Dad, it wasn't on purpose."

"Were you drunk?" His dad asks, voice filled with mirth.

Jongseong breathes out quickly. "Very."

"I'm sure he would've wanted to marry you sober."

Okay, so maybe Jongseong should've called his mom instead. She wouldn't have enabled him the way his father is. Though, with his current track record of things not going right, maybe she would've had the same reaction as him.

"What? What are you even talking about." Jongseong is, admittedly, probably a little too frustrated, but can you blame him? It's like he got drunkenly married to Heeseung and suddenly nobody in his life knows how to act right?

"Does your mom know?" His dad ignores him. "She's going to be upset she wasn't at the ceremony, but we can throw a party in the backyard. That'll cheer her up."

“No," Jongseong says—well, more like shrieks. "There's not going to be a party. This isn't a thing that should be happening. I'm calling to ask for your lawyers number."

He hums thoughtfully. “It's a bit late for a prenup."

"That's not why—I need a divorce dad." Jongseong is fully aware of how desperate he sounds. He thinks its a bit fitting, if not totally expected.

"I don't understand why."

Jongseong pulls the phone away from his face for a moment to take a deep breath. He lets it out slowly, eyes closed, wondering what he did in a past life to have to be dealing with this in his current one. His voice is quiet when he brings the phone back to nestle against his ear. "Heeseung and I…It's not like that. It was an accident, and now I have to fix it."

"Does Heeseung want a divorce?"

"No." The word is sour in Jongseong's mouth. It makes him feel dirty, almost; selfish, in a way. Like he's the bad guy in this situation, even though there really shouldn't be one.

"Then why do you?"

Jongseong chokes out a laugh. "Do you want me to be trapped in a loveless marriage?"

"Do you not love Heeseung?"

"I do." The admission burns at Jongseong's throat. "But I don't think he loves me."

"We all have a different way of loving people. Just because Heeseung doesn't have the same as you doesn't mean he doesn't love you. "

"So what?" Jongseong asks. "I just stayed married to a guy I never meant to marry in the first place."

"I just don't think you should rush this. "

Jongseong groans. "No wonder you and Heeseung get along so well."

"I won't lie, I'm very glad he's my son in law."

"Can I still have the number?" Jongseong asks quietly. "Just in case," he tacks on in the hope his dad agrees.

"Incase of what?"

"I don't know!" Jongseong shouts. "He's moved into my apartment without my permission."

"He's your husband, he doesn't need permission." Jongseong hears him laugh quietly. "I think being married is going to do you a lot of good."

"You're no help." Jongseong pouts.

"I love you. Call your mother. She'll be mad if she hears the news from me."

Jongseong sighs and says, "Love you too," before hanging up the phone.

Yeah, so here's the thing:

Jongseong has always dreamed of being married.

But not in the 'planning out every detail of your wedding at the age of eight' way; more in the 'I can't wait to give my entire self to somebody that gives themself back to me in return'.

Jongseong is so full of love sometimes it feels like he's going to burst at the seams.

Jungwon had understood this better than anybody, because Jungwon has this innate and eerie ability to read everyone for filth the second he meets them.

"I want to see someone love you the way you love them," Jungwon said to him at his graduation party of all places. They were all gathered in the living room of Jongseong's childhood home, a thousand miles away from where Jongseong would later meet Heeseung.

Jongseong spluttered. "What?" He was no stranger to Jungwon's random exclamations of findings only he saw, but this was a bit much, even for him.

Jungwon shrugged. "Just seems like you never pick the right person to love. But you deserve more than that."

He hasn't told Jungwon yet, because how do you explain to your childhood friend that in the three weeks since you last spoke you've gotten married?

To make it better, or maybe worse, being married to Heeseung isn't even that bad. He praises Jongseong lightly when he cooks for the both of them at night, cleans without being asked, and doesn't hog the bed. Jongseong lived with Sunghoon during freshman year and he was a horrible roommate so Heeseung being half decent causes the beginnings of something to kindle in his chest.

Jongseong corners him a week into their marriage. "So what now?"

Heeseung lightly places a plate down on the drying mat. "What do you mean?"

"I have the number for my dad's lawyer," Jongseong says nervously. The way Heeseung has been acting this past week makes Jongseong feel like he's asking for a divorce from a real marriage. A marriage chosen out of love, not drunkenness.

"Okay?" Heeseung asks, eyebrow raised as if to say, "Why are you being so weird about this?"

Jongseong isn't the weird one between them, that's always been Heeseung. He stomps his foot and then flushes at the way it makes him feel like a petulant child throwing a tantrum. "Why aren't you taking this as seriously as I am?"

"I am taking it seriously," Heeseung says. "Do you really want a divorce?"

Jongseong pauses. "What does that mean?"

"I just thought, I mean, this could be good. Yeah?" Heeseung looks up at him over his shoulder. He's wearing a pair of bright pink gloves as he scrubs the dishes.

Jongseong's throat goes dry. "Girls love married guys."

"What?"

"We're not," Jongseong starts. "I mean. We're not actually together."

"We're married." Heeseung says it in that tone of voice he always says it in; the one he uses when telling Sunghoon that mechanical keyboards are superior; the one that means what he's saying is an unequivocal fact.

"So?"

Heeseung stares at him. His mouth drops open. "Do you, like, want to see other people?" He splutters.

"Don't you?" Jongseong's voice is pitching up higher more and more as Heeseung says things that don't entirely make rational sense to Jongseong.

His hands are frozen in the dirty sink water. "Jongseong we're married."

"You keep saying that like it means something," Jongseong says, entirely lost.

"It does." Heeseung pauses. "To me. It means something to me."

Heeseung says it so sincerely. Jongseong isn't sure how he's supposed to feel about it.

"I don't want to see other people." You. I want you. I want this to be real, and I want you to want that too. "I just don't know if this is the best thing for us." Will this ruin us? What's going to happen after we divorce, because it has to happen. For you. This is all for you and your needs, not mine.

"We don't have to figure it out now," Heeseung says lightly, turning back to the dishes. The glasses clink together with the force of his scrubbing, the only thing clueing Jongseong into Heeseung's emotions. "I graduate soon. We'll figure it out then."

Jongseong's face twists. "Are you sure? So much could happen in two months." I could fall even more in love with you, and you could hurt me in ways I'll never let you know, because my feelings aren't your responsibility.

"Just go with the flow, Jjongsaeng." Heeseung sets a cup down on the drying mat. "Everything will work out how it's meant to."

"I don't want to hold you back." Jongseong's voice cracks. It's entirely too honest, but that's exactly what Jongseong does; tells it like it is, no matter how much it hurts.

Heeseung pulls off his gloves and sets them down on the counter before turning to Jongseong. "Don't worry about it." He says it like it's easy.

It'll never be easy for Jongseong. But then again, marriage is about compromise. If Heeseung's going to jump head first into this, then Jongseong at least deserves to try. He nods and tries to let go in the way Heeseung does. He can try—for Heeseung he can try anything.

Jongseong isn't sure when Heeseung taking over a quarter of his closet turned into every single item of clothing Heeseung owns having its own space in the small room.

"My lease was up a month ago." Heeseung says it like it's not life changing when Jongseong asks when he's going to stop playing house in Jongseong's apartment.

"Are you joking?" Jongseong blinks at him.

Heeseung turns to him, holding out a bottle of organic grapefruit juice. "Do you really drink this shit?"

"Do you live here now?" Jongseong asks, slightly hysterical.

Heeseung makes a face at the bottle and then shoves it to the back of the fridge. "I've been living here for awhile."

"Oh," Jongseong says. "Because that makes total sense."

"Of course it does." Heeseung closes the door. "We're married."

Heeseung already has a job lined up after he graduates. He's due to start two weeks after graduation. Jongseong can't help the overwhelming urge to do something, anything. A grand gesture to show him something he isn't sure he's allowed.

And that's the straw that broke the camel's back, isn't it? Jongseong doesn't know how he's allowed to feel about Heeseung.

On one hand: they're friends. Have been since orientation, when Jongseong had approached him during break and asked what his rank in Valorant was, because the only shred of information he shared about himself was that he mains Jet.

On the other: they're married. And Jongseong is in love with him. And there's no way, in any universe or timeline, that Heeseung could love him back. According to the rules of marriage Heeseung and Jongseong are supposed to do things couples do, but they're not.

And that's where Jongseong is stumped.

Heeseung is so caught up on the fact that they're married.

Jongseong isn't sure what being married means to them. Is he allowed to touch Heeseung? To hold him in the way he's always wanted to, close like he's something to be treasured? Are they supposed to kiss each other goodbye, fingers digging into whatever flesh they can get their hands on, because they don't want to let go?

He's in limbo and the last thing he wants to do is talk to Heeseung about it.

"You guys are married," Sunghoon says over the phone when Jongseong brings it up to him, "talk to him. Communication is important in relationships."

"My feelings are important too." Jongseong fiddles with his jeans. "I don't think it would end well for me."

Sunghoon sighs. "I don't think this marriage is gonna end well for you."

"That's exactly my point." Jongseong is sorting through papers belonging to Heeseung, not him. He picks up Heeseung's social security card and cringes. "I have to end this."

"Tell him." Sunghoon stresses. "You guys need to talk, seriously talk, not whatever Heeseung usually does."

Jongseong sighs. "I've tried."

"I really don't know how to help you." Sunghoon is out of his depth and Jongseong knew that even before he called him.

It's here where Jongseong has an epiphany. He stops in his tracks, almost dropping his phone. "Sunghoon. I have to fake him out."

"What?"

"He won't let me end things so I have to make him end it."

To Jongseong, this is the light at the end of the tunnel. To Sunghoon, well—

"How do you plan on doing that?"

After he reorients all the papers in the right direction, he slides them into a black folder neatly labeled Heeseung. "Match his energy."

"What makes you think that'll end how you want it to?"

"It's worth a shot," Jongseong says, setting the folder down in his safe.

Sunghoon sighs, and then hangs up.

On a Tuesday three weeks after they get married, Sunghoon posts a very over exaggerated sappy post on Instagram about how he's so happy for his best friends and is so glad he was able to be a witness of their love. Jongseong doesn't even think there was a witness at the wedding. If he's being honest, he doesn't even remember the events that lead to this nightmare.

It's up for two hours before Jungwon shows up at his door.

The first thing Jungwon says when the door swings open is: "Are you serious?"

Jongseong sighs, because, honestly, this doesn't even hit top ten most surprising things to happen this month. "Hello Wonie. How are you?"

"You're married?" Jungwon lunges forward to grab at Jongseong's left hand, and then throws it up into his own face.

Jongseong pries Jungwon's thin fingers off of him. "It's complicated." He rubs at where Jungwon held and offers a sheepish grin.

"Is there a ring on your finger?" Jungwon asks, knowing full well there is.

Heeseung had bought them the matching gold bands two days after they got married. He presented them to Jongseong with a smile on his face.

Jongseong sighs. "Yes."

"Then how is it complicated?" Jungwon asks. And really, he's got a point. Kinda. Somewhat.

Not really. "We were drunk and in Vegas," Jongseong says, bringing a hand up to scratch at the back of his neck in an attempt to look sheepish, because he is, a little bit, but he is more so embarrassed, but if Jungwon were to know that this conversation would go a completely different route that Jongseong doesn't have the mental energy or booze stash to deal with.

"Wow, you really fell off, didn't you?" Jungwon spits at him.

"That's mean," Jongseong whines. "You're being mean."

Jungwon makes a face, a quick twisting of his features that leaves Jongseong expecting certain death, and then pushes his way into the apartment. There is no attempt made on Jongseong behalf to stop him, because if Heeseung only listens to himself, then Jongseong only listens to Jungwon. And his mom—but mostly Jungwon.

He putters around Jongseong's apartment like he owns the place, a different sort of confidence than Heeseung's—who does it out of a lack of understanding, or caring, for things like manners and social order—leading him all around Jongseong's space until he seemingly gets his fill and collapses on the couch.

"What's his name?" he asks, pulling an embroidered pillow his grandma made for him onto his lap. It reads Too much of a good thing is wonderful and she had gifted it to him for Christmas his freshman year.

"Don't act like you didn't cyberstalk him the second you saw Sunghoon's post," Jongseong responds, stretching out on the couch opposite him. "He has a pretty decent Instagram account."

It's all thanks to Riki, who loves art only a little bit more than Heeseung, and takes every opportunity to take pictures of him. And Heeseung posts them not because he wants a strong internet presence, but because it's his way of bragging about Riki without actually bragging about him.

"I wanna hear about him from you," Jungwon says and then Jonseong talks about Heeseung for approximately forty-seven minutes and twenty-three seconds.

Jungwon whistles when he finishes. "For some reason, this feels entirely in character for you."

"Why—" Jongseong clears his throat, just on the wrong side of dry after talking for so long. "Why do you hate me?"

Jungwon ignores him. "He sounds nice," he says, "I'd like to meet him." He sits there for a moment longer in silence, eyes thoughtful, and then tacks on: "You love him."

"What?" Jongseong splutters. "What do you know about love?"

"I'm in love, you jackass," Jungwon retorts hotly. He throws the pillow at Jongseong and then grins smugly when it hits him square in the forehead.

"What?" Jongseong asks for what feels like the 800th time.

"I have a boyfriend," Jungwon replies. He crosses his arms over his chest.

"Since when?" Fuck. Shouldn't that be something Jongseong knows?

"It's been a year," Jungwon tells him, "he's amazing and I love him."

"Jungwon, I'm so sorry." Jongseong means it. If the guy whose entire thing in high school was knowing everything about Jungwon didn't know about his boyfriend of one year, what kind of fraud was he?

"Don't worry about it." Jungwon waves him off. It's lighthearted enough that Jongseong believes him, and he gets a moment to wonder why Jungwon is so okay with it before his face lights up like he just made the discovery of the century.

"Wait," Jungwon says slowly, turning towards Jongseong. "I remember this guy. Freshman year, right?"

And does that open a can of worms Jongseong isn't ready to worry about.

Again, more context—because so much of Jongseong and Heeseung's history has remained unsaid:

Jongseong went into his friendship with Heeseung with the intention of trying to make something happen. Unfortunately for him, nothing ever seems to go his way.

In October of his Freshman year he was violently awoken by a fire alarm. Sunghoon and him scrambled around trying to leave the building. When they made their way to a group of people from their floor Jongseong stopped dead in his tracks.

It was 3:30 in the morning and their next door neighbor Jake was half naked and snuggled up into Heeseung.

So. The alarm ruined two things: Heeseung and Jake's sneaky link that became not so sneaky after that night, and any intention Jongseong had of trying to ask Heeseung out.

They share a bed. The crowd cheers. Sunghoon definitely cheers, because he still thinks this is how Jongseong's life should be playing out. It’s only a little bit because Jongseong lives in a one bedroom.

"Come over here." Heeseung's half asleep voice is ten times more endearing than it needs to me. "I'm cold."

"It's April," Jongseong says, but he scoots over nonetheless. "It's not cold outside."

"I didn't say anything about outside," Heeseung says into Jongseong's neck. "What does that have to do with me?"

"You're so," Jongseong says, but doesn't finish. Instead he lets Heeseung wraps his arms gently around him. "You have class tomorrow, right?" He asks, settling into the warmth of Heeseung's body.

"Eight AM," Heeseung says, pout on his lips. Jongseong can feel it on his skin. "Two more months and then I'm done."

"Do you want to do something?" Jongseong asks, moving his head to rest on Heeseung's shoulder.

Heeseung hums. "Do you?"

"It's your graduation," Jongseong replies.

"Oh," Heeseung says. He shifts so his hands are on Jongseong's waist. "I mean, if you want to."

Jongseong groans. "But do you want to?"

"You always make things so difficult," Heeseung says lightly. "It doesn't have to be that serious."

That's kind of Heeseung's life motto. Or at least, he tends to say it a lot nowadays. He sprinkles in "It's not that serious." or "Let's just go with the flow, okay?" everytime Jongseong tries to talk about what they did. He knows it comes from a place of Heeseung not wanting to be vulnerable with him, not wanting to share what he's actually feeling, but Jongseong thinks—and this is the only time he'll play this card—as his husband he deserves to know.

"I like to plan things, you know that," Jongseong says. "You have to tell me what you want."

"No, I don't think I will," Heeseung says, and then holds Jongseong so tight it almost hurts. "Let's go to bed, okay?"

Jongseong knows better to fight Heeseung. "Okay. Good night." And because he's already half asleep, he lets slip: "Love you."

The next morning Jongseong wakes to an empty bed.

Heeseung is old fashioned in unexpected ways. There's a note pinned to the fridge when Jongseong walks into the kitchen.

He sticks it onto the space next to the trackpad on his laptop and thinks about it as he goes about his day. In the middle of class? Jongseong's finger is drawing over the winky face. Grabbing lunch? He mentally goes through his entire closet and picks what he's going to wear. Walking to the library to meet up with Sunghoon? He wonders what restaurant they'll go to.

Though, it never occurs to Jongseong to let Heeseung know like he asked. That's the one part of the note he doesn't focus on.

An hour into studying with Sunghoon, Heeseung crashes, body shaking with the force of his pants. He bends over, hands on his knees. Jongseong almost reaches a hand out to smooth through his sweat slicked hair before he realizes that might be a bit too much, marriage or no.

Sunghoon glances over at Heeseung, face twisted in disgust. "Did you run here?"

"Yeah. I don't have much time. My next class starts soon." Heeseung breathes out, finally upright. His face is so red. He grins when Jongseong quietly hands him his water bottle, eyes leaving his laptop screen only once to look at him. "I needed to ask Jongseong something."

"You couldn't text him?" Sunghoon turns back to his laptop. The keys click loudly as he types.

Heeseung shakes his head. He collapses in the seat next to Jongseong. Jongseong doesn't look up from his math problem, too afraid he'll do something stupid, like kiss Heeseung in front of Sunghoon and the entire library and—like—God.

"You're doing that wrong," Heeseung says, head resting on his hand.

"Then you do it." Jongseong shoves his laptop towards him. He laughs when the laptop just barely misses his elbow.

Heeseung hums as he calculates in his head, like the asshole that's good at everything that he is.

"What did you want to ask me?" Jongseong watches as he types in the answer. Sunghoon mumbles something under his breath, but Jongseong pays him no mind.

"You never texted me," Heeseung says, clicking onto the next problem. Jongseong suddenly remembers the sticky note attached to his laptop in full view of Heeseung's eyes and the world.

"Oh," Jongseong says, voice somewhat stuck in his throat. "Sorry."

Sunghoon snickers quietly to himself.

Jongseong gives him the finger. "We can do dinner."

"Date night." Sunghoon sing-songs, and then glares at Jongseong when he tosses a highlighter in his direction.

"Shut up," Jongseong says, a little unhelpfully, because the highlighter definitely got across his message.

"I made reservations." Heeseung brings Jongseong's attention back on him. He pushes the laptop back towards Jongseong, screen showing that he finished the assignment.

"Reservations?" Jongseong asks. "How fancy do I have to dress?"

"That won't be a problem for you," Heeseung teases. He brings a hand down to rest on the small of Jongseong's back, "won't it?"

Jongseong laughs softly. "You're right."

"Will you pick out my outfit for me?" Heeseung asks. "I don't want to look like a slob next to you."

"Of course—"

"I will say," Sunghoon cuts in. Jongseong had genuinely forgotten he was there. "Watching you play the long game in making him a house husband is very entertaining."

"He is not doing that." Jongseong frowns, turning to Heeseung. "Right?"

Heeseung shrugs. "I like the idea of you laying out my clothes for me in the mornings."

"You two are something else," Sunghoon says, shaking his head. He shuts his laptop and shoves it in his bag. "Have fun at dinner, losers."

It's later, when they're on their walk back home from dinner when Jongseong stops dead in his tracks. Heeseung crashes into him, hands frantically grabbing at Jongseong's waist. "Hey…what's up?"

"You just took me on a date." Jongseong feels slightly dizzy. He sways despite Heeseung's hold on his waist.

"Yeah," Heeseung says slowly, "of course."

"Why?" Jongseong asks again, and again, and again. He's always asking Heeseung why nowadays. He never gets an answer other than—

"We're married Jongseong," Heeseung says, pushing him lightly, as if to tell him to keep walking.

Jongseong doesn't budge. "You keep saying that."

"It's the truth." Heeseung eyes him, unwavering from his standpoint that has become so unclear to Jongseong.

"Okay," Jongseong says. He doesn't have the energy to go back and forth tonight, too full of good food and expensive wine. "Okay, Heeseung."

It rains on the day of Jongseong's twentieth birthday. He wakes alone to the sound of a downpour. It almost covers up the cacophony wafting into the room. Heeseung is covered in flour when he makes his way to the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" Jongseong smiles because he can't help himself.

"Fuck." Heeseung startles, a chocolate covered hand pressed over his heart. "You scared me." In all Jongseong's years of living here, how little they may be in the grand scheme of things, he's never seen the kitchen this messy. "Go back to bed. You're ruining the surprise."

"What surprise." Jongseong attempts to pull Heeseung into his arms, but is stopped.

Heeseung shoves him away gently. "Listen to your husband. It'd do you a lot of good."

"When has my husband ever been right about anything?" Many times, but Jongseong would rather die than admit that, especially on a day like this.

"Statistically speaking—" Heeseung starts.

Jongseong shoves a strawberry in his mouth before he can continue. Heeseung eyes are narrowed as he chews. He is horrifically endeared by the curve of Heeseung's eyes.

"Please don't destroy my kitchen any more than you already have." Jongseong manages to catch Heeseung this time. The way Heeseung almost melts into him causes fire to kindle in his veins.

Heeseung hums, closing his eyes. "I'll clean it up."

"You better. It is my birthday after all." Jongseong presses a short kiss to his forehead before he can stop himself.

"Yeah," Heeseung says softly. "Happy birthday Jjongsaeng."

"You and that stupid nickname."

"It's a great nickname."

"Sure it is." Jongseong cups Heeseung's face in his hand for a moment before pulling away. "How long is this gonna take?"

"However long until it's perfect," Heeseung says, turning back to his mess.

"Okay," Jongseong says airily. "See you on your birthday."

"That's not fair!" Heeseung whines. "It'll be done soon. Go lay back down, baby."

Jongseong's chest tightens. "Don't be too long. It's not right of you to keep me waiting."

"I'd never keep you waiting," Heeseung says so sincerely it makes Jongseong's stomach drop.

He leaves the kitchen, and doesn't look back.

Okay, maybe Jongseong remembers more from their wedding night than he lets on. They come and go in flashes, never anything substantial—something that would help Jongseong understand why and how this happened.

After what would become his last shot of the night Heeseung wrapped a large hand around his wrist and said, with about as much sincerity as Jongseong had ever heard from him at this point in time: "You're the best thing to ever happen to me."

"What?" Jongseong replied, blood alcohol content at a whopping 0.15%. He could barely hear Heeseung over the music, but he could make out the look in Heeseung's eye.

It's eerie, the way Heeseung can turn off all emotions at the drop of a hat. Most of the time Jongseong thinks it's funny, because if he doesn't laugh then he'll fall into a rabbit hole of concern. But at that moment—in that dirty Las Vegas bar—Heeseung's eyes had shined, reflecting the rainbow lights all around them. He looked about as alive as Jongseong had ever seen him. For a brief moment he had the urge to take a picture of him, some souvenir to prove that he means something to Heeseung, because who else could get a look like that out of him if not someone he lo—

"We should—"

"You two are way too drunk," Sunghoon interrupted. Despite his words he shoved more drinks into their hands. "Please don't die on me."

When Jongseong looked back at Heeseung he was halfway through chugging the new drink, but his eyes were just as bright. There was a split second—a blip on the radar of Heeseung behavior—when Jongseong thought maybe it'd survive past Sunghoon's interruption. He had laughed it off, however, because of how unlikely it seemed. Jongseong was ready to chalk it up to a once in a lifetime moment that he would brag about to Riki when they got home.

Except, when Jongseong woke up the next day it was next to Heeseung and with a sleek, white piece of paper on their hotel nightstand, declaring them husbands.

It's hard to fully put into words what being married to Heeseung is like, because everything always feels either too grandiose, or not weighted enough. Paradoxes, it's been awhile since Jongseong thought about them, and if he's being honest he's never fully understood the concept—he's just been good at pretending. Heeseung would, thought; he would be able to put all of Jongseong's thoughts into easy to digest words, but that would require letting him see the full entirety of Jongseong's brain, and that's something that cannot happen under any circumstance.

He could try a new method. Jongseong's never considered himself a comedian, but with the current state of his life, maybe it's about time he saw the humor in it.

Jongseong's first attempt at a joke:

Heeseung's filling his intent to graduate form out in the living room. He catches Jongseong when he grazes past him, pulling him down onto the couch next to him. His head drops onto Jongseong's shoulder, and he says, apropos of absolutely nothing: "My mom wants to throw us a make up wedding."

Jongseong has a few options. He goes with: "Are you serious?"

You see, it's funny, because what the fuck is Jongseong's life?

Alright, maybe jokes aren't his thing and he should really try something else, like continue the conversation and find out what fresh hell Heeseung has in store for him.

"She's not even upset about not having been there," Heeseung says, closing his laptop and tossing it to the other side of the couch. "She's upset because we didn't get that experience."

"Why is everyone in our lives crazy?" Jongseong asks and Heeseung sends him another one of his Are you serious? looks.

"Are we not also crazy?" Heeseung responds, eyebrows disappearing under the frames of his glasses.

"I just—" Jongseong cuts himself off. "Why. Why would she do that?"

"We're married, Jongseong."

"Are we really?" Jongseong is trying, he really is. He's doing his best to try to trick Heeseung into ending them, but here's the thing: Heeseung doubles down everytime Jongseong lets himself fall into the lie.

"You're wearing a ring I bought you. We live together." He turns to look Jongseong in the eye. "I was going to ask your opinions on last names, like, if you wanted to change yours, or if you wanted me to change mine, or whatever. So I can have it how we want on my diploma."

Jongseong freezes. "You'd put my last name on your diploma?"

"If that's what you wanted." Heeseung blinks up at him with those big, empty eyes—the ones that usually signal that Jongseong is about to fight for his life defending whatever dumb decision Heeseung made. Because he will. Time and time again, Jongseong will.

"Heeseung—" Jongseong clears his throat. "You don't see how insane this is?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes," he says sternly. "Of course it matters. Heeseung you have to—"

"I'm happy," Heeseung interrupts, and Jongseong is struck with the realization that this is the first time in the entire time they've known each other he's ever heard Heeseung say those words. "I'm not the one trying to change things."

"But you are."

"How so?"

"Changing our names." Jongseong points out.

"That's not how I meant it," Heeseung retorts, running a hand through his hair. His left hand. A strand of hair gets caught in his ring, and Jongseong almost rerails the entire conversation to instead lecture him about ring sizes and the importance of getting the right one, especially for your wedding ring.

"Then how did you?" Jongseong asks.

"Do you not want to be married to me? Is that it?"

Jongseong shoves his face in his hands and groans. "God. Heeseung. You're not hearing me."

"I am," Heeseung replies. "I'm always listening to you."

"We—" Jongseong pauses. "This wasn't even our choice."

"Was it not?"

"You're doing the thing again," Jongseong blurts out.

Heeseung scowls. "What thing?"

"When you ask questions instead of actually participating in the conversation."

He makes Jongseong feel like he's going crazy. That's it, isn't it? Heeseung says his words that mean absolutely nothing to him and everything to Jongseong and then goes to bed at night in Jongseong's bed and makes meals in Jongseong's kitchen and invades every little space of Jongseong's life that he didn't already inhabit. He asks questions in successful attempts to avoid answering anything truthfully.

Heeseung has Jongseong's heart locked in a vice grip, and he's selfish enough to refuse to let go.

"I don't understand what you're having difficulty getting," Heeseung says slowly, stressing each syllable, like Jongseong is some toddler throwing a tantrum. "I like being married to you. I am okay with this being my life. Is that not enough for you?"

Jongseong feels cut open and laid bare, despite it being Heeseung that has taken it upon himself to be somewhat vulnerable, something he never does. "I want a divorce." Jongseong's voice cracks as he speaks.

Heeseung swallows. His eyes are just as blank as they were all those months ago when this all started. "Okay. Okay, Jongseong." He gets up from the couch. "You do that. I'll sign the papers."

For all that Jongseong is the way that he is, and his family is the way they are—meaning for all the money they have—he has always preferred out of the box vacation spots. He doesn't want to be known for his father's success, so he doesn't flex material things like someone else might. So: his pick for freshman year Spring Break was New York City.

Vegas was ultimately Sunghoon's decision. He was high off his ass. Jongseong really, really wanted to veto the idea altogether, but he picked where they went last year for Spring Break, so unfortunately he wasn't allowed to.

"It'd be so fun." Sunghoon was laughing, but more like wheezing. His words came out breathy and he clutched his stomach. "Ironic. You know?"

"No, Sunghoon." Jongseong gratefully grabbed the joint Heeseung handed him. "I really don't."

Heeseung was already halfway through rolling another one for them. Jongseong couldn't help the way his eyes were glued to his fingers as he had confidently worked. "I think it's funny," he said, before sticking his tongue out to wet the paper.

Jongseong's eyes followed his moves diligently. He flipped Sunghoon off when he elbowed him in the side.

"I'm just saying," Sunghoon retorted, glaring at Jongseong. "What's the worst that could happen?"

Jongseong's been staring at the email since he got it fifteen minutes ago.

He hasn't even read the rest of it, too stuck on that line to move on. He thinks he stares at it for thirty more minutes—forty five total—when Heeseung walks in.

"What are you staring at," Heeseung says, arms crossed over his chest.

They haven't spoken since Jongseong asked for a divorce. It's been awkward; he's gotten used to seeing Heeseung everyday, to living his life alongside him. His absence was felt so strongly in the deepest parts of Jongseong he wasn't so sure he'd ever survive.

"We're not married," Jongseong says in disbelief. He pushes himself back away from his desk. Distantly, he recognizes the way his hands shake.

"Did you forge my signature on the divorce papers?" Heeseung looks genuinely shocked. His voice is quiet when he adds on, "I would've signed them."

"Why?" Jongseong asks. It comes out deflated, quiet in the way only a man at rock bottom can achieve.

"Why what?" Heeseung asks, tone leaning away from annoying child and more towards the other man at the rock bottom Jongseong has achieved.

"Why—" Jongseong clears his throat, finally turning to look at Heeseung. "Why would you have signed them?"

"Because you wanted me to," Heeseung says simply.

"Not because you wanted to?" Jongseong asks.

Heeseung sighs. "We established a long time ago that I don't mind being married to you."

"But do you want to be married to me?" Jongseong stresses his last word, because hasn't that been the entire problem all this time? Heeseung could marry anyone and be happy, but why is he okay with it being Jongseong?

"That doesn't matter now, doesn't it?"

Heeseung sounds upset. His brows are furrowed and he's doing the thing he does when he's mad, mouth in some sort of cross between a pout and a frown.

Oh.

"Why?" The word rips itself from Jongseong's throat.

Heeseung just stares.

"Why did you not mind being married to me?" He repeats the stress on his last word, hoping he can get across his point without actually saying it.

"Does it matter?" Heeseung chews on his bottom lip.

"To me." Jongseong wants to reach out and touch him.

Heeseung sniffles, the only indication that this is getting to him the way it's getting to Jongseong. He brings his arm up to cover his nose and mouth, breath skipping when he pulls it away. "Because I love you."

Jongseong freezes. He suddenly becomes aware of every little detail of Heeseung's appearance. His hair is one day away from being greasy to the point where Jongseong will force him to shower. He's wearing his glasses, perched low on his nose like he always does. They're dirty, and if this were a different moment Jongseong would reach out and clean them for him. He's wearing one of Jongseong's shirts.

His heart aches deeply.

"You can't."

"What?" Heeseung shifts nervously in place.

"I know you, Heeseung. I know you so well." Jongseong's voice breaks. "You loving me doesn't make any sense."

"When has love ever made sense?" Heeseung asks, and it's so unlike him it makes Jongseong want to laugh.

He buries his head in his arms, laid forward on the desk. He jumps when Heeseung touches his shoulder.

"I remember it, you know." Heeseung kneels down on the floor beside his chair. "The wedding. I was the one that brought it up."

That's the one thing Jongseong seemingly hasn't been able to uncover fully. He remembers the before, the after, and the after the after, but not the moment itself.

"Really?"

Heeseung nods. "It was a joke, but you said yes, and then I realized that the idea of spending the rest of my life with you makes me a kind of happy I've never felt before. I was sober enough to stop it, and I should've. God, Jongseong, I should've. But I couldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because you looked happy too," Heeseung responds, rubbing a hand slowly up and down Jongseong's back. "And I thought maybe you wanted it as much as I did."

"We're not married and I'm sad." Jongseong croaks. He cringes at himself, knowing exactly what he looks like right now: a sad, stupid boy. "Heeseung, I'm sad."

"Did you really forge my signature on the forms?" Heeseung smiles then, all teeth. He says it lightheartedly, but there's an undercurrent of seriousness.

Jongseong laughs, quietly at first, and then when his brain registers how ridiculous this situation is, full bodied, clutching onto Heeseung for support. "It wasn't filed with the state. We were never married in the first place."

"Oh," Heeseung says, affectionately watching Jongseong wipe at his eyes

"Isn't that funny?" Jongseong asks, slightly hysterical. "Heeseung, we were never married."

Heeseung's mouth forms around unsaid words. "I just—I mean. Wow."

Jongseong cackles. "We are so insane."

Heeseung drags a hand down Jongseong's arm to wrap around his wrist, fingers messing with the gold band on his finger. He brings the hand to his mouth and then presses a kiss on the back.

They've never kissed. It's one of those things Jongseong wasn't sure he was able to ask for.

"In that case," Heeseung says softly, and then shifts so he's kneeling on only one knee. "Jongseong, will you marry me?"

Jongseong laughs wetly. "Yeah. Of course." And then when Heeseung's face lights up, grin so large it's almost blinding. "I love you."

"Can I kiss you?" Heeseung asks wetly. A tear tracks down his face.

Jongseong nods. And then continues nodding up until Heeseung forcibly stops him with his own face.

Later, when Heeseung and Jongseong are wrapped up in each other, Jongseong bolts up straight. "Shit."

"What?" Heeseung asks blearily. His hair is all askew.

Jongseong tamps down on the urge to run his fingers through it, before remembering he's allowed to now. "How are we gonna tell our friends we're not married but that we're going to get married?"

Heeseung hums, pulling him back down and melting into Jongseong's touch. "They don't expect anything other than a mess from us. Trust me, everything will be fine."

"What do you mean they expect a mess from us?" Jongseong asks, stilling his movements.

"Jongseong." Heeseung groans. "We got married in Vegas."

"And?"

Heeseung cackles. Jongseong joins in, and before they know it, they're rolling around in bed, faces wet with laughter-induced tears, and so in love it almost hurts.