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Jung Wooyoung hates the snow.
Hate is a strong word, but every time the crisp fall breeze begins to shift to a sharp chill that he can feel in his bones the memories of the winter seasons past come back to him, reminding him of why he hates this time of year and the frosty little snowflakes that come with it.
His mother claims it’s because he was born just before winter started and he had to spend his first few months of life outside the womb in the harshest winter they’d seen in years. Although she did everything to make sure her sweet baby boy was properly insulated from the cold, there was only so much she could do. She still talks about how red his nose would get when they’d go on afternoon walks around the neighborhood, or how he’d cry and cry after she took him out of a kitchen sink bath until he was wrapped in a fresh towel a few seconds later.
His very first memory of snow he distinctly remembers being bundled up in a snowsuit that was a just bit too tight. It was a hand-me-down from his brother that his mother insisted was the right size for Wooyoung despite not being able to bend down to touch his toes. The down stuffing did keep Wooyoung warm as he and his brother traversed the snowy banks along the sidewalks to the store a few blocks down from their house for some essential items (and their mother just wanted them out of the house). The sweat inside his suit was nothing like the sweat he felt on a hot summer night after a popsicle to cool him down. He much preferred that kind of sweat compared to this kind that only made his outerwear situation worse.
The whole walk back from the store he complained: he was tired, the bulky snowsuit was uncomfortable to move around in, the bags were too heavy (why did he have to carry the milk?), and some snow had gotten into the top of one of his boots and his sock was wet. Wooyoung was so fixated on every single thing that was bothering him he didn’t even notice that his brother had stopped to build a perfectly solid snowball that he launched right into the back of Wooyoung’s head. To this day, his brother claims it was meant to lighten the mood (break the ice, get it? ), but Wooyoung cried all the way home and didn’t speak to his brother for a week.
Then there was the freak snowstorm the week of his fourteenth birthday. The weather forecasters on the news hadn’t even seen the ominous clouds coming until the eve of his birthday party; his parents had rented out one of the only roller skate rinks in the area and let Wooyoung invite as many friends as he wished, which ended up being his entire grade. Soon that night, the calls started coming in from all his friends’ parents saying they were going to play it by ear, but as the snowflakes outside the window grew larger and more frequent Wooyoung knew his party was ruined. Overnight the whole city had been covered in at least a foot of snow, some areas getting closer to two feet, and no signs of letting up. His mom tried to reschedule his party, but the rink didn’t have another available weekend date until the end of January.
The snow didn’t completely melt that year until early April, an unusually lengthy time for the snow to hang on in his area. Each day he walked to school the icy, dirty snow mounds along the streets like a cruel reminder of the party that was ripped away from him. A night of ‘what if’s” he’d never get answers to. What if that boy he’d had a crush on since the 4th grade actually came? What if he’d been, like, so totally impressed by all of Wooyoung’s awesome roller skate tricks? The only trick he knew was how to skate backwards, but what if his crush had been so impressed by that one trick he would have to go compliment Wooyoung and then Wooyoung would finally have the courage to ask to hold his hand as they skated around the rink to his favorite song? Now he’d never know.
And all because of some stupid ice crystals that fell out of the sky with the sole intent of making Wooyoung’s life more difficult.
Wooyoung got older and rationalized his hatred about snow to a dull annoyance. His childhood crush moved away and his friend circle grew even larger when he became a trainee.
San was just like many of his other trainee friends; wide-eyed, full of passion, and a sweet smile that made Wooyoung’s heart flip every time he got to see it. Or maybe that’s just Wooyoung’s revisionist history now that he’s far enough from it to look back on his first encounters with San.
The first time he watched the snow with San they were standing on the rooftop of their company building. San had been diligently watching the weather app on his phone and running to the windows in the hall outside their dance practice room, waiting for the first sign of that white garbage falling from the sky.
Wooyoung, come with me.
Even if San had given him the chance to say no, Wooyoung’s not sure he could have anyway. San’s eyes just looked so round and childlike. When his fingers curled around Wooyoung’s wrist to pull him along, Wooyoung’s mind went completely blank. As San dragged him up the stairwell, all Wooyoung could do was stare at the way San’s fingers so gently wrapped around him, but still tight with intent that there was no choice but to let San lead him.
They’d been running dance practice for hours and his body was radiating with heat. His muscles were pulsating from the countless times he and San ran the same choreography until it was slowly nearing perfect. The winter air actually felt nice as they stepped out into it together, a word Wooyoung never thought he’d use to describe a temperature close to freezing.
It’s the first snow of the season, Wooyoung.
San was looking up at the sky, smiling, like an idiot. San was simply dazzled by the tiny flecks of white falling down around them, leaving the tiniest of wet spots on his track jacket. Wooyoung wouldn’t have noticed the marks if he hadn’t watched the snowflakes land on San.
Wooyoung knew San was a bit of a softie. He’d seen San cry countless times over dramas and movies, but he hadn’t guessed that San would be so easily swayed by the silly notion that snow could be romantic.
Don’t tell me you think this is sweet or something.
Wooyoung was standing so close to San he could see a snowflake melt on San’s lips; lips that were pouted in despair as he turned to Wooyoung. San struggled to respond to Wooyoung, leaving long gaps of silence in between his words.
Kind of. It’s such a special feeling. You know, watching the first snowfall of the season.
Wooyoung hadn’t realized San had still been holding onto him until his fingers fell from Wooyoung’s wrist, now missing San’s warm grasp. San’s face fell so easily, and for what reason? Just because Wooyoung didn’t like the snow the same way he did? His eyes searched Wooyoung’s face, like he was waiting for Wooyoung to laugh and say he was just kidding.
Wooyoung hadn’t known San very long, in the grand scheme of things, but he knew him well enough to know when he wasn’t saying something. Wooyoung had even begun developing a special skill in deciphering San’s many codes for why he’d be holding something back. Sometimes it was because he’s not confident enough yet, and he’d bite his bottom lip until it was dry and chapped. Not confident enough yet to suggest a better move during a certain part of the choreography or push himself for a song that could totally be in his range if he tried. Sometimes it’s just because he’s too tired and he’d pull the sleeves of his jacket down past his fingers so he could ball them up in his pockets. He’s been running after the same dream Wooyoung has and sometimes it’s just easier to shut up and take it than to push back on the people that said they knew better.
But there were other times that Wooyoung couldn’t exactly pinpoint why San wasn’t saying more.
The silence after they’re exhausted from a full day of every kind of lesson and practice that gets thrown at them before they’re ready for debut, and San would sit alone in the corner of the dance practice room. Wooyoung would join him with his bottle of water, not thinking twice before sharing it with San. Wooyoung would ask if he’s okay, but San would only nod, and his gaze would linger, the silence becoming deafening over the other members on the other side of the room. San would just smile and rest his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder. The silence would morph from something distressing to a calm presence surrounding the pair. They’d stay like that until they had to get into the van to head back to the dorm, but San would remain glued to Wooyoung, silent and clingy, and it wouldn’t bother Wooyoung. San wouldn’t say a single word until they parted at their bedroom doors, and San would give Wooyoung a soft goodnight, finally speaking again.
And there’s this moment on the rooftop. When San is looking at him, as snowflakes fall down around them. Wooyoung knows San wants to say something more. He knows there’s more to why he wanted to watch the snow with Wooyoung, but there’s something stopping him from saying it all.
Wooyoung looks around him, watching the small flakes float around the two. It’s the kind of snow that doesn’t quite stick to the ground yet, which Wooyoung appreciates. But if he’s being honest, the way the snowflakes float up and down and all around them is kind of interesting, maybe even magical. The snowflakes are so light they can’t quite fall in a straight line, so they just fly around until eventually Wooyoung can’t keep track of which one he was watching. That is until one catches his eye and he tracks it as it rounds San’s head then takes a sharp turn to gently place itself under San’s eye on one side of his face. As he watches the snowflake evaporate, Wooyoung speaks.
I don’t know, I just don’t feel any fondness for it. But, I guess it’s not so bad like this-
With you. But Wooyoung doesn’t say that part. Wooyoung has wondered since that day if maybe he and San were holding back the same thought.
The more it snows that year, the more Wooyoung finds himself being dragged out into the cold by San. So much so that he starts wearing more layers than normal, just in case San pulls him out before he can even get his jacket on. And when the snow starts to stick to the cold ground and build up, he can’t keep refusing San’s wishes to go out and play in it.
He still hates snowballs after what his brother did to him that one time. But San teaches him how to make the perfect snowball, the kind that explodes on impact rather than the icy kind that impales the back of someone’s skull. He can’t deny that it is kind of fun to throw a snowball and especially ones that are aimed directly at the center of San’s chest. San playfully falls to the ground, hands clutching at where he’s been hit. When San throws a snowball back from the ground, getting the side of Wooyoung’s thigh, Wooyoung is shocked by the squeaky giggle that escapes from his lips, feeling merry and joyful surrounded by the snow with San. Is this what they’ve been singing about in all those Christmas songs? Wooyoung wonders to himself.
When San pulls Wooyoung down to the ground with him, Wooyoung isn’t quite as offended by the dampness underneath him as he watches San show him the best way to make a snow angel. After flapping his arms and legs about in the very specific pattern that San told him to do, he moves to stand but San doesn’t let him get up right away. San makes Wooyoung wait until he can help him up, taking both of Wooyoung’s hands and lifting him up from the ground so that Wooyoung won’t have to leave hand and foot prints inside his angel.
See, now yours looks absolutely perfect, Wooyoung. Like a real life angel came down and left this.
Wooyoung admires his work, smiling at how perfectly his snow angel fits next to San’s. Even though San says Wooyoung’s creation is more perfect because there’s less evidence that it’s manmade, San’s work looks better to Wooyoung because he can see the traces of San’s existence left behind in the snow. A handprint where he pushed himself up off the ground and footprints at the base leading to Wooyoung’s angel. It’s begun snowing again so they decide to head back in and Wooyoung finds another thing he doesn’t like about the snow: he won’t be able to come back to their angels just like this. The snow is already beginning to cover their imprints and bury their existence and Wooyoung will never be able to come back to this exact moment.
Somewhere between that day and by the time all the snow had melted that winter Wooyoung realized he was in love. It’s hard to pick a specific moment, but something changed that day in the snow with San.
As their team continued getting closer to their debut, San and Wooyoung became closer than anyone ever imagined. It didn’t take either of the two long to realize their feelings for each other, and never one for holding back, Wooyoung voices his feelings to San. If he was better at planning or a little more tactful he would’ve told San under some pretty lights or in their own special place, but it doesn’t matter because hearing San say he loves him back makes the entire world around them disappear. Now they say it, and every other thought they have, so easily to each other. Gone are the long silences or unspoken words from when they weren’t sure how the other would receive their unfiltered feelings.
Every year as winter approaches Wooyoung monitors the weather, looking for that small snowflake symbol to show up in the 7-day forecast on any of the many weather apps he has on his phone. Maybe no one else notices because it’s not that much different than how they normally act, but Wooyoung becomes even more inseparable from San. He has to be within reach of San so that when the first flurries start to fall he can take San by the hand and lead him outside.
Look. It’s snowing, San.
The first snowfall of the season.
San’s eyes turn into soft crescent shapes as he smiles at the snowflakes falling. Smiling like an idiot, but it’s that idiot smile that makes Wooyoung’s heart flutter about inside his chest and makes him smile too.
Wooyoung takes San’s other hand, now holding both hands and turning San to face him. As the snowflakes fall in between them, but never breaking their gaze, Wooyoung speaks.
I love you.
I love you too, Wooyoung.
In a perfect world, this is how he would’ve confessed to San; standing in the first snowfall of the season, heart racing, blush rising to San’s cheeks and his ears turn red, and San says it back to him eliciting the same reaction out of Wooyoung. But Wooyoung wouldn’t change a thing about him and San, not for anything in the world. Instead he just makes sure that when it snows for the first time each winter season he’s next to San, able to steal him away for a moment that is just their own.
Wooyoung still hates the snow.
Wooyoung hates the way everything turns icy and every sidewalk becomes a trap waiting for unsuspecting pedestrians to slip on. He hates the way the snow plows push all the snow off the roads and on the side, mixing in the dirt and sand from the roads creating hideous monstrosities that Wooyoung has to look at for weeks. He hates that it gets so cold and he has to hear sniffly noses from everyone, even his own little brother who gets a brand new snow suit every year, allegedly outgrowing his old suit each year.
But with San, the things he hates about snow seem a little less annoying. Walking on icy sidewalks isn’t so bad when he has San’s sturdy frame to cling to for support. Wooyoung isn’t looking at the dirty snow piles much when he has San in front of him, playing and laughing and holding him. And San’s sniffly nose seems to be the only one Wooyoung doesn’t mind hearing, always having a tissue for him to use.
Wooyoung hates snow, but it’s not so bad as long as he’s with San.