Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sometimes the passage of time confuses Matthew, like how it’ll be a Tuesday when he could’ve sworn it was at least Thursday, or when he promises to go to bed after scrolling through his feed for just five more minutes, but somehow an hour passes, or especially right now, because he really can’t wrap his head around the fact that it’s already that time of year again.

No, not Christmas time, though that’s always a happy realization when suddenly the autumn leaves fall and the holidays are right around the corner.

Not his birthday either, which is good because as he gets older, his excitement around birthdays drops exponentially; instead of a happy milestone, it’s somehow become a sad reminder that he’s aging rapidly but somehow hasn’t moved forward at all in life.

This, however, might be even more dreadful than his ever-intensifying back pain.

It’s time for their friend group’s annual beach weekend getaway—the “Beach Episode” as he and Gunwook like to call it.

It’s been a tradition of theirs for a few years now and this will be their fourth, if Matthew is remembering correctly. Normally, it would be grounds for celebration, something he looks forward to every year, but not anymore.

Last year, Matthew did something so stupid that it irrevocably ruined all subsequent trips for him and he’s still facing the consequences.

Matthew had considered trying to weasel his way out of it, but they had all made it a rule that no one was ever allowed to back out. They always plan early enough to make sure they can find a weekend in the summer when all nine of them are free, which is not an easy task by any means, but they somehow manage to figure it out despite all odds. It’s all the more reason why last minute cancellations are not allowed under any circumstance, barring near-death.

But maybe Matthew’s not above faking his own death.

Is he being dramatic? Yeah, maybe a little. But he’s staring at his empty duffel bag in despair because he doesn’t know how he can possibly bring himself to go on this trip.

After all, if he sees Kim Jiwoong, he might just die on the spot anyway.

Hanbin comes to pick him up and they grab Gyuvin along the way too, but Matthew is already asleep by then. He hadn’t been able to sleep much last night, too anxious about today, and was miserable as he trudged through his half a day of work. In fact, he’s out almost immediately after getting into the car.

Suddenly, there’s a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Wake up, sleepyhead,” Hanbin says affectionately.

Matthew opens his eyes and immediately squints at the sunlight shining through the car window, then blinks slowly as he tries to adjust to his new surroundings.

Hanbin laughs at him. “Come on, we’re already here. Gyuvinnie already ran inside with all the stuff because he was too excited. He took our bags too, so we don’t have to worry about that.”

Matthew yawns one more time, tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes. “Okay, I’m awake.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Are you feeling okay, Seokmae?” Hanbin asks, eyebrows furrowed slightly in concern. “Sleep deprivation aside, you seemed kinda off when I picked you up earlier.”

“I’m fine, hyung,” he lies. “I really just didn’t sleep well last night. I should be good now that I got to nap for a bit. Thanks.” He tries to muster his brightest smile, but he knows it’s probably not that convincing, especially to Hanbin.

His best friend can definitely see right through him and probably knows the exact reason why he’s acting weird, but he’s not the type to pry, choosing instead to let Matthew open up when he feels ready. Unfortunately, that’s the very reason they’ve been led to this situation.

Hanbin has been patient with Matthew, but Matthew is a coward and has instead spent a year running from Jiwoong without telling anyone why, even though it’s blatantly obvious that something is wrong.

He’s sure his friends have noticed how he’s been shying away from group outings, asks for the guest list before ever confirming whether he’s free or not. It’s hard to avoid one of the key members of your friend group and even harder to do so unnoticed, especially when you used to be practically inseparable.

Of course, he can’t avoid him fully, nor does he want to. He misses Jiwoong so much that it hurts, but every time he gives in and agrees to go somewhere with everyone, Jiwoong’s gaze on him is so scorchingly hot that it feels like it leaves first degree burns on his skin that last for days on end. For his own sake, it’s best to limit these occurrences as much as possible.

This weekend wasn’t something he could avoid though. He wonders if Jiwoong is already here or if he has a few more moments of reprieve.

“We’re the last ones,” Hanbin says, as if reading his mind. “Everyone’s just waiting on us to start dinner.” Hanbin takes his hand and gently pulls him forward.

It’s so like him—the calm reminder, the carefully controlled amount of strength that makes him feel like he’s being led rather than dragged—it’s grounding. Matthew takes a deep breath and does his best to brace himself.

He can do this. It’s been a full year. He’s ready to finally face Kim Jiwoong.

“Okay, let’s go.”

They walk inside the beach house that they’ve rented for the weekend and Matthew hears his voice before he sees him. He gulps—maybe he’s not ready for this.

He follows Hanbin around the corner into the living room where everyone seems to be gathered. Notably, Gyuvin and Ricky are squished together on a small lounge chair despite there being an insanely large couch that could probably fit all nine of them comfortably, and Gunwook in turn is stretching his legs across as much of said couch as possible, taking up the space of at least four people.

Then, of course, there’s Jiwoong, perched on the edge of the couch, looking up to meet Matthew’s eyes as they walk in.

Fuck.

Matthew definitely isn’t ready for this.

“Took you guys long enough,” Taerae comments. “Gyuvin came in like ten minutes ago.”

“Sorry, someone was a little difficult to wake up,” Hanbin teases and Matthew feels his face go hot, less because of Hanbin and more because of a certain person whose eyes have not left him since he stepped inside.

“My bad,” he mumbles. “I’ll do the dishes later to make up for it.”

Gunwook jumps up from the couch to hug—more like tackle—Matthew, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Don’t worry, Matthew-hyung. It’s not that big of a deal.”

Matthew is suddenly grateful for Gunwook’s large stature because it at least somewhat shields him from Jiwoong for the time being.

“So I guess the first order of business is deciding rooms and then we can get started on dinner,” Hanbin announces. “How’s that sound?”

“As long as Jiwoong-hyung is the head chef and Hao-hyung goes nowhere near the kitchen, I think that’s a good plan,” Taerae answers.

Hao makes a noise of objection, but Hanbin quickly turns to him to try and soothe him before he gets too sulky. It seems to work well enough, Hao only pouting ever so slightly.

“Right,” Hanbin continues. “Same system as always?”

There’s a chorus of agreement as Hanbin pulls out some paper and a marker from his bag that he brought just for this occasion. It’s time for the ladder game.

This tradition started after the first year when the rock-paper-scissors tournament to decide rooms went terribly wrong. Their annual friendship trip tradition almost came to an end before it could even begin because of it. People were goaded into all-or-nothings and the subsequent yells must’ve been heard all the way in the next town over. Others—namely Matthew—dropped to the floor in disappointment and earned a few bruises in the process. To put it simply, it was chaos.

The year after, they started using a ladder game and haven’t stopped since. The main rule is that couples must share a bed regardless of size, something that was implemented to prevent certain members of their friend group from always getting the bigger rooms just on the basis of being in a relationship.

This year, the room offerings are a master bedroom with a queen size bed, two smaller rooms with a full size bed and single bed respectively, a big shared room with a single and a bunk bed, and for one unlucky person (or couple, if fate is really that cruel), there’s the couch.

Ricky, as their resident artist, is tasked with drawing the ladder, though it’s really nothing more than a bunch of lines so anyone could’ve done it, which he mumbles a complaint about even as he’s drawing.

From then, they choose in descending age order, as they’ve found this is the fairest and most organized method. It also provides an extra opportunity for the kids to tease Jiwoong about his age, which they never seem to get tired of. Even Yujin agrees that this is a fair tradeoff for having to choose last every year.

Order doesn’t really matter in these things anyway. Despite being last to choose, Yujin got the master bedroom to himself last year, though he got lonely and dragged his hyungs into the large bed with him on the second night regardless.

Usually, Matthew doesn’t put much thought into the rooming arrangements, happy to be with any of his friends, but this year he can’t help but be a bit nervous. If he ends up in a room with Jiwoong, he doesn’t know if he’ll make it through this trip. He definitely won’t get any sleep.

Once they’ve all made their picks, Hanbin takes the lead role once more to announce the results. “Okay, let’s start from Jiwoong-hyung. Are you guys ready?”

Gyuvin uses Ricky’s back as a surface to do a drumroll on and though his boyfriend doesn’t resist, the look on his face doesn’t seem particularly amused either.

“Jiwoong-hyung is in the shared room bunk bed! You can decide top and bottom with whoever gets it later.”

Matthew gulps. If Jiwoong had gotten one of the single rooms, then Matthew would’ve been safe from the start, but now that he’s confirmed to be in the shared room, he’s not off the hook quite yet.

Hanbin reads them off from left to right, and Matthew’s name won’t be read until towards the end, so he just prays that other people will fill in the other two beds in the shared room before it gets to him so that he can finally be at peace.

Perhaps as the universe’s way of balancing itself out from last year, Yujin ends up on the couch, though Matthew has a sneaking suspicion someone will cave and either switch spots with him or invite him to squeeze onto their bed. It doesn’t matter how old Yujin actually gets because the fact that he’s their youngest will never change, and thus no one will ever cease to baby him at any chance.

Next, Gyuvin and Ricky luck out with the room with the full size bed while Hanbin and Hao get the single bed, but Matthew doesn’t think they particularly mind. They stick that close to each other anyway, so the extra space would’ve been wasted on them.

This leaves just him, Taerae, and Gunwook left with two spots in the shared room and the master bedroom.

Taerae eyes both of them from across the room. “Oh, it’s on,” he says, challenging.

Matthew doesn’t even have it in him to fight back, too nervous for what fate this stupid ladder will decide for him. Gunwook, still wrapped around him, likely senses his uneasiness and squeezes slightly tighter in comfort.

“I’m calling it right now, Taerae-hyung, the bunk bed is yours,” Gunwook counters.

“Okay, okay, let’s see who’s right then, shall we?” Hanbin says, chuckling at their antics. “Next up is Matthew.”

Matthew’s never been more terrified of a ladder game before this moment. He watches in horror as the marker traces the intricate pattern of lines on its way downwards and he resents Ricky for making it so needlessly complicated and Hanbin for dragging it out so slowly for dramatic effect—he’d really like to let out the breath he’s been holding since the start of this game.

Then, the marker arrives at its finally destination. Matthew feels his body finally relax. It seems luck is on his side today.

If it were last year, he probably would’ve pumped his fist in the air, jumped for joy, done something crazy to celebrate, but this time it’s enough to just breathe a sigh of relief.

Vaguely, he registers that a grumpy Taerae does indeed get the bunk bed and Gunwook gets the remaining single in the shared room.

“Great, now that that’s done, can we start making dinner? I’m starving,” Gyuvin says.

“I guess that’s my cue,” Jiwoong answers. “Any volunteers to be my sous chef today?”

Normally, Matthew would be the first to run over to him, ever eager to make the others finally admit that his cooking is good and also as an excuse to be closer to Jiwoong, but not anymore. His mission to have his chef potential recognized will have to wait for another occasion.

This time, Matthew flees as far from the kitchen as possible. He doesn’t even pay attention to who ends up helping Jiwoong make dinner, which he feels a little guilty about, but he’s fully willing to follow through on his earlier offer to do the dishes in apology.

As he’s starting to unpack some of the things in his room, there’s a gentle knock on the door, though it’s not even closed. He turns to find Gunwook.

“Woah, that bed is huge,” he comments as he pokes his head in the door. “Hyung, you’re so tiny, you probably won’t even take up a quarter of the space.”

Matthew doesn’t know how exactly he should react to being called “tiny,” but he supposes he can’t really deny the allegation when it comes from Gunwook, considering how he has to crane his head up to look at him.

“What’s up, Gunwookie?”

“I just wanted to check in and see if you were okay, hyung.”

Matthew’s heart squeezes—Gunwook’s always been sweet like that. “Sorry for worrying you. I promise I’m fine.”

Gunwook pouts at him. “Don’t lie to me, Matthew-hyung.”

“I’m not—” Matthew sighs, realizing he’s already lost this fight. “I’m sorry. I’m trying to be fine, but it’s not really as easy as I hoped it would be.”

Gunwook looks at him, troubled, like he’s not sure if he should say what he’s about to say next. Matthew doesn’t know if he wants to hear it either.

“You know, you can’t just keep avoiding Jiwoong-hyung forever,” Gunwook says cautiously, hesitant with each word as if just one more is enough to offset the balance and send Matthew toppling down. But to his credit, it really might be.

Matthew wants to deny that he’s avoiding him, but his friends aren’t stupid. It’d be offensive to them to even try to make such a claim.

“I know,” he says finally. “At least I came, didn’t I?”

“You haven’t looked him in the eye since you arrived, but he keeps watching your every move like a kicked puppy,” Gunwook points out. “Matthew-hyung, you know I love you and I wanna support you, but I love Jiwoong-hyung just as much and I hate seeing him like this. If you’re gonna do this, I think you should at least put him out of his misery sooner.”

“I never—I’m not trying to hurt him.”

Gunwook looks at him with sad, but hopeful eyes, like he desperately wants to believe him, but isn’t sure if he can. It’s very telling of just how badly Matthew has screwed things up.

“H-how has he been lately?” Matthew asks.

“I can’t tell you that, hyung. That’s something you should ask him for yourself.”

“Gunwook, I can’t.”

“It’s not a matter of can or can’t, it’s that you don’t want to. You’re being too much of a coward to.”

Matthew winces at the harshness of the words. After Gunwook had shielded him from Jiwoong earlier, he thought he was on Matthew’s side. Not that there are sides to choose. And even if there were, the only right choice would be Jiwoong’s side.

After all, Gunwook’s words, however harsh, are not at all wrong. Matthew made a mistake last year and he’s spent a year running away from it because he’s too much of a coward to face it head on—to face Jiwoong head on.

Still, Gunwook looks guilty for speaking so bluntly. “I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.”

Matthew sighs, “No, you didn’t say anything wrong. You’re completely right. I am being a coward.”

“I’m just worried about you, Matthew-hyung. We all are—about both of you, actually,” Gunwook continues. “We wanted to be patient and let you guys figure it out but…”

“But it’s been a year and it’s only gotten worse,” Matthew finishes for him. He would know since he’s the one actively worsening the problem and it’s been affecting not only Jiwoong, but also their entire friend group. “I’m working on it. I’m trying.”

It’s only half a lie. He’s working on trying to be ready to try working on it. That’s close enough, right?

Gunwook smiles, Matthew’s little fib unbeknownst to him. “Good. Dinner should be ready soon, so come down when you’re done unpacking.”

Matthew does his best to smile back. “Will do.”

Gunwook closes the door behind him, so now after a lecture from his dongsaeng, Matthew is left alone in the large master bedroom once more.

He’s known Jiwoong for a long time now and they were friends for years before Matthew even started developing feelings for him. In theory, he should know how to act around Jiwoong.

Of course, it’s always harder in practice than in theory, but it’s a comforting reminder that this isn’t technically new territory. If he can just erase the events of last year from his mind, he’ll just be doing the same things he always did—he can manage that.

With his necessities for the weekend unloaded from his suitcase, clothes hung up in the closet to try and mitigate the wrinkles earned from haphazardly tossing them in at the last minute, Matthew takes a deep breath and heads back downstairs.

He’s hit with a delicious smell of kimchi stew. One thing he’d missed almost as much as Jiwoong himself was his cooking.

While Matthew does think he’s a decent cook, he would call his success rate of throwing things in a pan based on vibes somewhere around 65%. Sometimes he accidentally creates a restaurant-worthy masterpiece, or sometimes he creates something that, while not inedible, he would also never force anyone but himself to eat.

“Oh my god, it smells so good in here,” Matthew says, stepping into the kitchen. He tries to focus on the food, talking about easy, surface level topics to start.

Jiwoong startles at the sound of his voice, accidentally dropping a spoon into the large pot in his surprise. Instead of focusing on fishing it out, he turns to look at him.

Matthew wills himself not to look away this time, musters up his best attempt at a casual smile. The corners of his mouth twitch and he can’t figure out how to get his eyebrow muscles to relax and not scrunch weirdly—he probably looks ridiculous.

But still, he doesn’t break eye contact. He’d promised Gunwook he’d at least try and deep down, he knows he’s put it off for long enough already.

Taerae coughs, breaking through the strange air. “I’m gonna start setting the table. Gyuvin, wanna come with?”

“Yeah, sure,” Gyuvin answers, and then the two of them are off, leaving Matthew and Jiwoong alone in the kitchen.

“Is there anything I can help with?” Matthew asks, trying his best to sound normal.

“Um, everything’s pretty much done,” Jiwoong says, still looking at him with surprise, as if he doesn’t believe Matthew is really talking to him right now. It’s a fair reaction considering this may be the closest they’ve come to a conversation in the past year.

“Really? You sure you don’t want to fish out that spoon?” Matthew jokes. It’s still slightly stinted, very much shy of the level of teasing that used to flow between them, but it’s a start.

Jiwoong hesitates for a moment, then smiles. “I don’t know, I think the metallic taste might add a little something. Like a mystery flavor, you know?”

Matthew laughs, genuinely this time. “I can’t say that I do.”

Jiwoong does turn away from him to try and scavenge out the poor tasting spoon that has sunk to the depths of the pot, eventually manages to grab hold of it with a combination of chopsticks and a ladle, and throws it into the sink.

“Rescue operation complete,” he announces with mock seriousness.

“Good work, team.”

“Team? I don’t remember you helping me as I nearly plunged my hands into boiling hot soup.”

“I was the moral support,” Matthew smiles up at him cheekily.

It’s nice to joke around like this. He’s missed this.

That is, until he lets his gaze linger for a second too long on Jiwoong’s lips and memories from last year come crashing back.

“I should see if they need help with the tables,” Matthew says, immediately turning to flee.

“Matthew, wait,” Jiwoong calls. Matthew looks back at him to see his eyes full of a mixture of hurt, but also hope. “Are we okay?”

It makes his insides churn. He owes Jiwoong an apology, an explanation, and so much more, but instead all he can do is feed him more lies.

“Of course, hyung,” he answers. Although Matthew wants that to be true, he knows that it isn’t. He can’t bear to look Jiwoong in the eye as he leaves the kitchen.

Dinner goes well. Jiwoong’s cooking is as good as he remembers, the taste of the stew is homey and comforting, much like Jiwoong himself. It makes Matthew feel homesick even though the home he’s missing is a person and that person is actually right in front of him, always has been. It’s no one’s fault but his own that he hasn’t been able to see him in the past year.

“Matthew-hyung, are you okay?” Gyuvin asks, just as they’re finishing up dinner.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“I don’t know, you’re just kinda quiet today.”

“I’m just tired from work today. It’s no big deal.”

“Rough day?” Hanbin chimes in.

“More like week. This client’s been a bit difficult to work with.”

“Work must be pretty bad. We barely see you recently,” Yujin says.

Matthew’s heart twists with guilt at the thought of their youngest taking note of his absence. It’s true that work has been stressful with taxing projects back to back, but he’s also been inflating it just a bit. He’s always been the type to make time for his friends no matter what, but now he seems to be putting more effort into finding excuses to avoid them instead.

“Sorry, I’ll be better about that.”

“Instead of saying sorry, just promise me you’ll at least show up to my birthday party,” Hao says.

“Hyung, of course. You know I wouldn’t miss a birthday.”

He winces after he says it because he knows it’s not entirely true. He hadn’t been there for Jiwoong’s birthday last year. In his defense, it wasn’t entirely on purpose. He wasn’t even in the country.

He’d had too much PTO built up and decided to take an extended holiday vacation to visit his family after not seeing them in a long while. It just so happened that the dates that worked best for his sister were the weeks preceding Christmas and not following.

Of course, he still got him a present which he sent through Hanbin and texted him to apologize profusely, for which Jiwoong had told him not to worry, but he’s sure it still must’ve hurt. This is probably making it worse.

“You better not,” Hao warns.

Matthew wonders how his reputation amongst his friends has fallen to this—needing to be threatened to not miss a birthday party. He knows Hao is exaggerating slightly just for the drama of it, but it’s not like the accusation is unfounded either. He’s slowly realizing more and more that he’s been a terrible friend this year, not just to Jiwoong but to everyone else too as an unfortunate byproduct.

Matthew feels himself start to spiral in self-hatred at what a bad person he’s been when Jiwoong suddenly announces, “Let’s start cleaning up, shall we?”

Even at times like this, when Matthew has done nothing but hurt him recently, Jiwoong still doesn’t hesitate to come to his rescue.

“Hyung, you should rest since you did all the cooking,” Hanbin says.

“I’ll do the dishes,” Matthew offers.

“It’s too much for once person to do alone though,” Jiwoong says, concerned.

“I’ll help,” Ricky volunteers.

It seems a bit out of character and Ricky doesn’t seem like the most logical choice considering he has to spend a whole minute taking off about a dozen expensive rings before he can even get started, but no one questions it. The rest of their friends scatter and Matthew finds himself alone in the kitchen with Ricky.

“Get it together, bro,” Ricky tells him in English.

The sudden switch has him taken aback for a second.

“I’m trying, dude,” he argues weakly. He’s had this conversation too many times today already and he has a feeling it’s far from the last time. He’ll probably get a lecture from each of his friends in a rotation over the course of the weekend.

“What are you even trying so hard at?”

“You wouldn’t get it,” Matthew sulks, purposely not being careful and letting some of the water splash onto Ricky.

Ricky fights back, of course, taking the plate he’s drying and shaking off the excess water directly at Matthew in retaliation.

“Wouldn’t I?” Ricky counters. “I was the same with Gyuvin at first. I was afraid of ruining our friendship or something dumb like that. But hiding it was starting to make things weird and the thing I was trying to avoid was happening anyway. Sound familiar?”

“That’s different though.”

“How is it different? You like him, but you don’t want to make things weird with him, so you’re trying to distance yourself, but that in itself is making it weird because you used to be attached at the hip. Tell me what part of that is different from what I just said.”

“It’s different because Gyuvin was obviously so into you.”

Matthew’s eyes are on the dishes in his hands, scrubbing at a stubborn bit of sauce clinging to the white plate, but even without looking up, he can practically feel Ricky side-eyeing him, the judgement of the gaze burning into his skin.

Ricky sighs in defeat, as if not knowing how to deal with that response and Matthew just continues focusing on the dirty dishes.

“Okay, look,” Ricky eventually starts, “If you wanna be in denial, then there’s not much I can do. Again, I get that—I’ll let you figure it out on your own.”

“I’m not in de—”

Ricky has no patience for his protests, cuts him off before he can even finish. “But if you genuinely don’t see how Jiwoong-hyung looks at you, then you’re even worse off than I thought.”

“Hey,” Matthew objects, but there’s not much fight behind it. All of Ricky’s attacks have hit right on target, right where it hurts.

It’s far too much to unpack right now, so Matthew reaches for another dish to try and distract himself, only to find that the stack is no more. Everything is squeaky clean.

“I won’t tell you what to do,” Ricky says. “But just know that I still regret how I acted back then. I wasted so much time that we could’ve been spending together and I hurt him a lot in the process, even if that wasn’t what I meant to do.” His tone softens slightly. “I don’t think it’s what you want to do either.”

Ricky pats him on the back before stepping ahead into the living room to join the rest of their group. Matthew awkwardly trails behind, just in time to catch the tail end of the argument of what movie to watch.

Soon enough, the movie starts playing, but if anyone asks, Matthew would have no clue what it is that’s showing on the screen right now. His mind is far too jumbled to process any of that.

Instead, he blocks it out in favor of finally trying to process the thoughts he’s been pushing away for a whole year now, maybe even before that, if he’s being really honest. And he is trying to be.

Matthew lays out the facts in his head.

He’s been in love with Jiwoong for years. Last year, he drunkenly came onto him. Jiwoong rejected him and therefore, Jiwoong doesn’t like him back. It’s as simple as that.

It’s true that there were times prior to last year’s incident when Matthew thought the way Jiwoong looked at him could mean something. After though, well, he wouldn’t know. He’s done all he can to avoid Jiwoong because he doesn’t want to see how that look has changed.

He had mistaken fondness for attraction and is too scared to look now for fear that it’s morphed into pity or disgust or worse after what Matthew had done last year.

That doesn’t mean he can avoid him forever, nor does he want to. And yet, Matthew is clearly nowhere near close to over him yet. He’d thought he just needed a bit of time to recover, but even a whole year wasn’t enough to quell the feelings constantly bubbling in his heart.

The rest of the movie passes in a blur as Matthew runs through the same cycle of thoughts over and over, getting absolutely nowhere. When the credits of the movie finally play, he announces to his friends, “I think I’m gonna head to bed early tonight.”

“Actually, it’s getting pretty late,” Hanbin says. “Maybe we should all get a good night’s sleep, so we’ll have more energy for tomorrow.”

“Yeah, you guys had to drive a long way too,” Hao points out. “I think we all could benefit from some rest.”

“But I’m not tired yet,” Yujin whines.

“Come to our room for a bit then,” Gunwook invites.

“Yeah, we don’t have to sleep right away,” Taerae adds. “That okay with you, Jiwoong-hyung?”

“Yeah, of course. I probably won’t sleep yet either.”

“Okay, great. I expect to see everyone up bright and early tomorrow morning,” Hanbin says.

“By that, he means just don’t sleep in past noon, so we actually have time to do some stuff during the day tomorrow,” Hao clarifies.

“Aye, aye, captain,” Gyuvin says with a salute, prompting a round of laughter before they all make their way to their respective rooms.

Once alone in the large, empty room, Matthew finds that despite being the one responsible for sending them all to bed, he’s not actually that sleepy. Instead, after retiring to his room, he simply scrolls on his phone for a while, which inevitably leads to spending way more time on Tiktok than he’d intended. It’s kind of nice though, to have this sort of brain numbing time after some extreme overexertion.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed, but suddenly there’s a knock on the door. He sets Tiktok aside and sits up from the bed. “What’s up?”

“Oh good, you’re still awake,” Taerae notes, cracking the door open. When he opens it wider, it reveals an oddly nervous looking Jiwoong behind him.

“Is something wrong?” Matthew asks.

“Well, you see, our dear Yujinie fell asleep in Jiwoong-hyung’s bed and we don’t wanna wake him so we figured we could save hyung’s poor back and have him share with you instead of kicking him to the couch. You’re short anyway, so I’m pretty sure you don’t need that much space.”

Despite Gunwook having made a similar comment earlier, the tone with which Taerae says that annoys him—perhaps to say it makes his blood boil would be a bit dramatic, but it’s definitely at least at a simmer.

“I’m not short, we’re like the same height,” Matthew barks back just as Jiwoong says “Taerae, it’s fine. I’ll just take the couch.”

Matthew quickly realizes that there are more important things than arguing with Taerae over their heights (which, for the record, are practically identical).

It doesn’t sit well with him that Jiwoong would rather sleep on an uncomfortable couch than ask Matthew to share his clearly oversized bed. He feels his heart clench painfully at the thought, an occurrence that’s becoming more and more common on this trip and it’s only the first night. Maybe he should consider seeing a cardiovascular specialist after this trip.

“That’s nonsense, Jiwoon-hyung,” Matthew says. “You should be more careful of your back in your old age.”

Taerae barks out a laugh at that as Jiwoong stands in the doorway stunned, as if he had expected Matthew to turn him away rather than make a good-natured jab at his age—his reaction only fills Matthew with more guilt.

Meanwhile, Taerae pushes Jiwoong into the room and he stumbles through the door. “Hyung, I’ll go get your stuff for you.”

“Wait, but it’s just for tonight, I don’t need—”

“You really wanna kick Yujin to the couch tomorrow?”

“Well, no. I didn’t say that.”

“I’m sure we all predicted an outcome like this once Yujin ended up with the couch,” Taerae says. “Someone was gonna give up their bed to him one way or another.”

“That’s true but,” Jiwoong hesitates, looks over at him, “Matthew, are you sure this is okay? The couch is honestly not uncomfortable and—”

“Hyung, stop. This room was lonely by myself anyway. It’s better like this.”

Jiwoong smiles though still looking a little unsure. “O-okay. Thanks.”

Taerae, as promised, throws Jiwoong’s bags in the room a few moments later and if Matthew wasn’t seeing things, he could’ve sworn he was wearing a smirk as he did it. He doesn’t dwell on it much though because he has other things to worry about.

Of course, he didn’t want to subject Jiwoong to the couch, but now that they’re alone together, Matthew feels his nerves grow. This is the closest proximity they’ve been to each other in a year.

It’s strange. Before Matthew went and made things weird, they had always had hands all over each other. Not in a weird way either. They were both naturally touchy and Matthew couldn’t help the fact that he just seemed to fit perfectly in the space under Jiwoong’s arm. The older would always wrap an arm around his shoulder and he’d feel extra comfortable, safe there.

Perhaps the reason it feels weird now is because he’s actively trying to hold back from that, repressing his natural instincts. Matthew tests this theory.

He reaches out to grab Jiwoong’s hand to lead him to the bed from where he’s still awkwardly loitering in the middle of the room.

“I’m sorry, Jiwoon-hyung,” he says, finally, a year late. Now that he actually has Jiwoong here, the words seem to fall out on their own.

“What? Why would you be sorry?”

“Well, there’s a lot of reasons, but most of all, for being weird and distant,” he says, hesitant because he’s not quite sure how to put it into words. “I was… figuring some stuff out and I think I needed some time.”

“You know I’m—well, all of us—are here for you if you need it, right?”

“Yeah, and I appreciate that a lot even though I know I haven’t been the greatest friend recently.”

“As long as you were doing what’s best for you,” Jiwoong answers easily.

Was cowardly running away what was best for him? Best for anyone? Probably not, but he doesn’t have the heart to argue with Jiwoong when he’s being so kind and supportive. Matthew knows he doesn’t deserve it, but he accepts it anyway because that’s the kind of selfish person he is.

“Did you at least get it figured out then?” Jiwoong asks.

Matthew hesitates before answering, “Not really. Not fully at least.” He can’t bear to lie to him any longer. “I’m trying though. And I think I’ll get there eventually.” In fact, he already feels a little better just by finally talking to Jiwoong now; it makes him feel even more stupid for running away from this for so long.

“Okay, well you always have me, if you need me. Don’t forget that.”

“Thanks, hyung,” he says, feeling like he might cry—whether it’s out of guilt or longing or some weird concoction of all of those emotions together, he can’t even be sure. “Let’s go to sleep,” he suggests, mostly just to give himself a break because he doesn’t think he can handle much more of this conversation right now. Realistically, he doesn’t think he can fall asleep in this state either, but it still seems like the easier alternative.

“Okay,” Jiwoong agrees easily. It seems like he wants to ask more, but holds himself back and Matthew isn’t brave enough to offer him more answers just yet anyway.

Matthew turns off the lights and they climb into their respective sides of the bed. Jiwoong seems to be careful not to cross the halfway line and Matthew has mixed feelings about that.

The space between them feels simultaneously too great and too little all at once. Jiwoong is so close like this that Matthew fears he’ll hear his quickening heartbeat, the mere inches between them not nearly enough of a barrier. And yet, when a small part of him feels the urge to reach out for him, to pull him closer like old times, those same few inches feel insurmountable.

“Goodnight, Matthew,” Jiwoong says sweetly, so much so that Matthew’s heart falters again.

“G-goodnight, Jiwoon-hyung.”

Matthew wills his heart to slow down, trying to match it to the sound of Jiwoong’s steady breaths—it kind of works, eventually. Slowly, but surely, sleep takes over.

When Matthew wakes up, the first thing he registers is that it’s very warm. That makes sense; it is summer, after all.

When he opens his eyes, however, he finds that the reason for his current body temperature is not actually the summer heat.

It shocks him awake, that’s for sure, when he realizes that he’s wrapped himself like a koala around Jiwoong who is unfortunately also already conscious right now, currently idly scrolling on his phone.

“Oh, you’re up,” Jiwoong comments, looking over at him. “Good morning, Matthew-yah.”

If Matthew wasn’t already warm, well, he’s definitely overheating now.

To wake up to Jiwoong greeting him in the morning almost feels like a dream, one that he’d long since given up on, but now it’s happening for real.

“G-good morning, hyung,” he says even as he quickly pulls away, unwraps his limbs from where they’re tangled around the older, trapping him. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t mind,” he says gently, and Matthew nearly short circuits—this is way too much to process first thing in the morning.

What does he mean that he doesn’t mind Matthew cuddling him in his sleep? Not that Matthew wants him to mind, but maybe he should mind because Matthew definitely does. Well, not in the sense that he doesn’t like it, but more in the sense that he will not be able to get this off of his mind all day, maybe for the rest of his life actually.

“Did you sleep okay?” Jiwoong asks, completely disregarding Matthew’s inner panic.

“Y-yeah, I slept really well.”

“Are you sure? I can still switch to the couch for tonight if you’d sleep better alone.”

Matthew briefly considers if this is Jiwoong’s gentle way of telling him that he doesn’t want to share a bed with him, that he’s using Matthew’s supposed discomfort as a disguise for his own. But he knows Jiwoong’s not one to be so deceptive like that.

“Don’t be silly, hyung. This bed was way too big for me anyway.”

“Really, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or anything and—”

“Jiwoon-hyung,” Matthew interrupts because he can’t listen to this anymore. If anything, that should be Matthew’s line with his stupid feelings that he can’t seem to get rid of, that spiral further and further out of control the more he tries to repress them. In a moment of weakness, he lets them slip, “Stay. Please stay.”

A look of surprise passes Jiwoong’s face, then he looks at Matthew, searching. For what, Matthew’s not entirely sure, but he’s a little scared of what he might find regardless.

So he flees. It’s what he does best, after all.

Matthew sits up abruptly, clumsily taking most of the blankets with him as he tries to get out of these linen confines as quickly as possible. He trips over the mess of fabric as he stands up from the bed, but tries to step out of it as nonchalantly as possible, as if not acknowledging it will mean that it never happened. (It’s a tried and true strategy for him, after all.) “I should start getting ready. I’m in charge of breakfast today.”

If Jiwoong is affected by his sudden retreat, he doesn’t let it show. “Do you want help?”

“Is that your way of telling me you don’t trust my cooking? Because I swear—”

Jiwoong’s bright laugh cuts him off and it suddenly hits him how long it’s been since he’s heard that sound. The heart constrictions return once again.

“It was a genuine offer, Matthew-yah,” Jiwoong says so fondly that it hurts.

Matthew knows he hasn’t given Jiwoong many chances to even be around him in the past year, and when he has, Jiwoong has done all he can to be careful not to scare him away, part of that involving controlling the voice he used around him. Jiwoong is endlessly kind and affectionate towards all his dongsaengs, Matthew is more than well aware of this, but he had mistaken it for something else before. Matthew figured Jiwoong was being careful not to let Matthew misunderstand a second time after what transpired last year.

But now, Matthew doesn’t know what Jiwoong had been searching for, but apparently what he found was permission to return to some semblance of normalcy, that same fondness slipping back into his tone. He doesn’t know what exactly gave Jiwoong the idea that Matthew would be strong enough to handle this, that he wouldn’t break down on the spot upon hearing him call his name like that, but he seems to be running with it all the same.

Matthew runs too, from it—straight out the door, in fact. “I have it under control,” he yells behind him without looking back.

Matthew only burns one pancake—in his defense, the fire is always hard to control with the first one—and he quickly hides the evidence in his stomach before anyone can see. He won’t stand for his friends questioning his pancake-making ability any longer.

“It smells good in here,” Yujin comments as he steps into the kitchen.

“You’re up early,” Matthew notes, surprised.

“I couldn’t stay asleep because I was too excited!”

“Well, I hope you at least got some decent rest after hijacking Jiwoon-hyung’s bed.”

Yujin doesn’t even have the decency to look guilty. In fact, he actually looks a bit smug. “I mean it worked out fine anyway, don’t you think, hyung?”

“You little shit, you guys planned this didn’t you?”

Yujin raises his arms in surrender, feigning innocence. “Take it up with Ricky-hyung. He’s the one who drew the ladder.”

“I can’t believe all of you,” Matthew mutters. How dare his friends—

Actually, maybe they have a point. What right does Matthew really have to get mad at them for?

How dare they stop turning a blind eye to the huge rift that’s threatening their entire group dynamic?

How dare they stop putting up with Matthew’s pathetic attempts to run away?

How dare they act like friends?

Matthew sighs, shoulders deflating like a balloon as the air leaves his lungs.

“Matthew-hyung?” Yujin’s sass is promptly replaced with concern.

“For the record, I’m really sorry. I never meant for things to get this out of hand and even less for it to affect all of you too.”

“Hyung, we didn’t force you to come on this trip to hear you apologize. We just missed you—both of you.”

Matthew is about to apologize again on instinct, but he bites it back because Yujin literally just told him that’s not what he wants to hear. He doesn’t know what else he can say though.

“Jiwoong-hyung has been quiet and won’t rely on any of us even though he’s clearly bothered and you won’t even show up half the time and I know you all see me as a kid, but I’m an adult now too and I just—” He looks at Matthew, with big pleading eyes. “You can rely on me too, hyung. You can run away from your problems, but don’t run away from your friends—from us.”

Matthew doesn’t know how to explain that one of those friends, arguably the one who used to be the closest of those friends, is exactly the problem he’s running from. Not that it’s Jiwoong’s fault, that’s not what he means either. But he is, undoubtedly, the direct root of the problems that Matthew is running from.

“Thanks, Yujin-ah. That means a lot,” he says. He reaches up to ruffle his hair. “You really have grown up, haven’t you?”

“Your actions aren’t really matching your words right now, hyung.” He scrunches his nose adorably as he runs his own hands through his hair, trying to fix whatever mess Matthew just made of it.

Matthew’s subsequent laugh is cut off by the smell of burning that suddenly fills the room. He doesn’t understand how it’s so instantaneous; it feels like there should be a more gradual progression, a few warning signs at least, before a room goes from smelling of delicious pancakes to erupting in smoke in a single second.

Matthew groans in frustration, quickly turning to find the burnt mess that is his neglected pancake. He quickly scrapes it off the pan and straight into the trash, knowing that the pitch black bottom is not worth even trying to salvage.

“Are we gonna have charcoal-y pancakes again this year?” Yujin teases.

“Shut up, brat. You’re the reason it got burnt, you distracted me.”

“Then, I’ll help with the rest to make up for it.”

Matthew doesn’t know how much he trusts Yujin in front of the stovetop, but he looks eager to help and he supposes he doesn’t really have a right to say anything when he’s burned two attempts since starting (though the second definitely wasn’t his fault). “Do you wanna be in charge of blueberry or chocolate chip?”

“Chocolate chip!”

Matthew chuckles at his enthusiasm and fishes around the drawers for an extra spatula to give him.

Later, if anyone notices that the chocolate chip pancakes are a little weirdly shaped and the chocolate chips have been arranged to create a little smiley face, well, it does nothing more than reaffirm the fact that Yujin, no matter how old he gets, will always be the baby.

By the time everyone is up and fed, the sun is high in the sky and the threshold to be called morning has safely been passed.

“I knew this would happen,” Hanbin sighs.

“It’s fine, Bin-ah. We’re here now, aren’t we?” Zhang Hao comforts, making himself comfortable on one of the beach towels they’ve laid out under the umbrella.

Matthew, for one, is still slathering himself with sunscreen, doing his utmost best to prevent getting any sunburns.

He’ll always remember one time when he was a kid and had refused to put on any sunscreen because he didn’t like the way it made his skin feel sticky. After a long bout of excessive nagging, his parents had ultimately given up and decided that he would learn the lesson for himself the day after and that the most they could do for this stubborn child was to preemptively buy some aloe vera gel.

Yaebin, on the other hand, was being a little too generous with the sunscreen and had ended up with far too much excess gathered on her hand. Seeing her little brother as a perfect target, she had reached out and wiped it off on Matthew’s back.

To this day, Yaebin still holds that picture over his head, the one where Matthew’s entire back is colored an angry red, except for one, small handprint of fair skin. Matthew gets embarrassed just thinking about it.

The point is, he’s had his lifetime’s worth of embarrassing sunburnt tan lines and he’s not looking for any more.

Meanwhile, half of their group has haphazardly slapped some on and have already run straight into the ocean. Gyuvin and Ricky are either play-fighting or genuinely trying to drown each other, but either way, he’s pretty sure it’ll end in a make out session later, so he pays it no mind and turns his attention away from the couple before he sees something he doesn’t want to.

He looks around, trying to pinpoint where each of their friends are—for safety purposes of course, the ocean can be a dangerous place.

“If you’re looking for Jiwoong-hyung, he’s coming out now,” Taerae says, sneaking up from behind him.

Matthew startles at the sudden presence. “Oh my god, don’t sneak up on people!”

“It’s not my fault you have no awareness of your surroundings.”

“I have so much awareness!” Matthew argues back, just for the sake of it really. Then, he pauses to think. “Wait, why would you think I’m looking for Jiwoon-hyung? I’m not.”

“Suree,” Taerae drawls in a way that conveys exactly how believable that must be (read: not at all).

Before Matthew can call him out for it, in the corner of his eye, he can see Jiwoong walking down the path from the beach house directly to where their umbrella is situated.

“I see the kids already got a head start,” he laughs, pulling off his t-shirt as he gets ready to join them.

Matthew’s mouth goes dry. It’s not like it’s a sight he’s never seen before, but well, it’s been a while and Jiwoong’s perfectly sculpted figure seems to have gotten even more perfect in that time. He wills himself to tear his eyes away, but it’s too late for the image is already seared into his brain, frying it to a crisp.

“—screen?” Jiwoong’s lips are moving so he must be saying something, but Matthew only barely recovers enough to catch the tail end of it.

“Sorry, what was that?”

Jiwoong laughs. “Still sleepy?”

“Yeah, that’s it. I’m still waking up,” he lies, thankful for the cover that’s been handed to him on a silver platter, even if it doesn’t make sense seeing as he’s already been awake for hours.

Taerae snickers somewhere in the background and Matthew is tempted to kick some sand at him or something, but that’d be immature.

“Anyway, what were you saying, hyung?”

“I asked if you could pass me the sunscreen.”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” he says, reaching for the bottle that he had discarded next to him. “Do you want me to help you get your back?”

He doesn’t know what comes over him, feels betrayed by his own brain, and regrets the words as soon as they’ve left his mouth—he wishes he could reach out and catch the sound waves traveling through the air before they reach anyone else’s ears. It can’t be that hard to travel faster than 343 meters per second, can it?

“I’d appreciate that. Thank you,” Jiwoong says, gratefully accepting the offer and simultaneously sealing Matthew’s fate. He’s doomed.

Matthew deliberately doesn’t look at Taerae because he’s pretty sure whatever expression he’s currently wearing would infuriate him to the point of wanting to bury him alive in the sand.

He gulps, as he rubs the sunscreen between his palms, warming it slightly and then begins to roam his hands along the broad expanse of Jiwoong’s back. Matthew tries his best not to think too much about it, not to think at all actually, about the feeling of Jiwoong’s firm back muscles under his touch.

Matthew works hastily, yet still thoroughly. No matter how much his brain may be malfunctioning, that doesn’t mean he wants to doom Jiwoong to a painful fate of blistered, sunburnt skin. In fact, Matthew has probably caused him enough strife for a lifetime already, so he’s not really trying to add more to his list of offenses.

“Okay, I think you’re good,” he says, even as his eye catches a faint streak of white where the sunscreen hasn’t been properly rubbed in yet. One spot won’t hurt him, it won’t even matter when they get in the water anyway.

“Thanks, Matthew. Should I do yours too?”

“No, I’m good! Taerae helped me earlier!” It’s a blatant lie, he just hopes Taerae isn’t cruel enough to give him away. His back is actually still in desperate need of a layer of sunscreen, but he thinks if Jiwoong is the one applying it, he’d suffer a burn worse than that from the sun. In fact, he might need to be carted straight back into the house from heatstroke without even having stepped foot out of the shade.

Despite having thoroughly learned his lesson after his childish mistake over a decade ago, Matthew naively prays that maybe the sun won’t be too bad today, maybe he can get away with this. Maybe it won’t hurt as bad this time. (Or at least he desperately hopes so because if Jiwoong asks if he wants help applying aloe for the inevitable sunburn that will come later, he’ll have to tough it out and decline yet again.)

“Should we head to the water then?” Jiwoong asks, having quickly finished applying the rest of his sunscreen while Matthew was having his minor mental breakdown.

Matthew is about to nod, accepting his fate of a burnt back because he’s weak and he’s always been bad at resisting Kim Jiwoong, but he’s saved by an unlikely source.

“Actually, hyung you should go on ahead with Hao-hyung and Hanbin-hyung,” Taerae cuts in. “Matthew never got a chance to return the favor after I did his back for him.”

“Ah, okay. I’ll see you guys out there then?”

“Y-yeah, we’ll be over in just minute,” Matthew manages to answer.

Once their backs are turned, Taerae wordlessly gets to work on Matthew’s. “I’ll be quick, so he doesn’t turn around and notice.”

“Thanks, Taerae. You’re a good friend,” Matthew says, still slightly in awe at what just happened.

Taerae rolls his eyes as he finishes up. “I only did it because you were being so pathetic and I couldn’t help but feel bad for you.”

“Hey!” Matthew whines. “I take it back. You’re a terrible friend.”

“I don’t think you’re one to talk about being a good or bad friend,” Taerae quips and Matthew flinches at the harsh accusation.

He’s not wrong. Matthew can’t bring himself to be upset at the punch Taerae just threw at him when it’s nothing more than the truth. He wonders when the truth became something he hides from, something painful, rather than just something that is.

“I’m sorry,” Matthew says and he means it. He’s barely seen Taerae this year, has no clue what he’s been up to recently. He feels terrible.

“Okay, okay, stop wallowing in guilt and whatever other dumb things are going on in your brain right now. I didn’t mean it like that. Have you already forgotten?”

It seems so silly now that he says it like that. After isolating himself from his friends for a year, he really had forgotten so many things. He’d forgotten that in Taerae-speak, harsh words are often a mask for something much, much softer.

Output: You’re pathetic and I pitied you.

Translation: I missed you and I’m worried about you.

“Sorry,” he says again, but this time with a slight chuckle. It’s a much lighter apology—he feels much lighter. Matthew wonders if it’s wishful thinking for everything to be just as simple to fall back into place.

“Now, come on, let’s join the others before they complain that we’re taking too long.”

“I didn’t think you would want to swim.”

“Who said I was swimming? I’m allowed to just dip my toes in the water,” Taerae says, then a teasing grin spreads across his face. “Besides, I want a front row seat for when your short ass gets dunked into the water.”

Matthew laughs, loud and unabashed. “I missed you too, Taerae.”

The afternoon passes like a blur as very little actual swimming is done. Most of their time in the water is spent on childish splash fights that make Matthew feel like he’s a kid again. It’s refreshing, both the water on his skin and the familiarity of his friends.

He’s missed them. A lot.

It feels like a broken record in his head, but with each second of this trip that passes, he feels more and more stupid for having avoided them all this time.

The sun is a little lower in the sky now and a few clouds have come to shield it slightly, the harsh sunlight no longer beaming down on them. No longer needing the reprieve of the water to save them from the heat, they move to the sand and start a game of beach volleyball.

Taerae and Hao retreat back to the shade of the umbrellas, so it’s a game of 3V4, but no one’s really keeping score. It’s not out of a lack of competitiveness, because they are absolutely at each other’s throats every time the ball threatens to drop, but each time a new point is played, they get so into it that no one can seem to remember the previous.

It’s like this that Matthew goes in to dive for a ball and ends up taking a hard fall against the sand in the process.

Normally, it’d be fine and he’d get back up to continue playing without blinking an eye, but in his greed for the point, his hands had been too preoccupied to even try and soften his fall. Instead, his left knee seems to have taken the brunt of the impact, as he slides across a particularly rough patch of sand with bits of broken shells and debris.

It cuts through the skin and Matthew hisses as he starts to register the sting, the bits of sand clinging to the wound definitely not helping.

“Oh my god, are you okay?” comes the chorus of voices from all his friends.

“I’m fine, it’s not a big deal, just a scrape,” he reassures, trying not to wince to make it more convincing.

He looks up to see that amidst concerned faces, one stands out among the rest. Jiwoong quickly strides over to him from the other side of the court, his own team completely abandoned, wearing an expression of not just worry but also an extreme sense of urgency.

“Let me see it,” Jiwoong demands, reaching over to inspect Matthew’s leg. It really is a shallow cut and isn’t bleeding all that much; it’s probably just the sand that’s to blame for most of the stinging.

“Hyung, don’t worry, it’s not a deep cut.”

“Still, we should get it cleaned up. I’ll take you back to the house.”

“It’s okay! I can walk on my own!” Matthew says. “The teams will actually be even that way too!”

He tries to stand up on his own to prove his point, but the shift when he bends his leg summons another slight twinge of pain and he stumbles. The only reason he doesn’t dive face forward into the ground again is because Jiwoong is there to catch him, his firm grip keeping him from falling.

“Thanks, I’m good now,” he says.

Jiwoong doesn’t let go of his arm though.

“Jiwoon-hyung?”

Then, Matthew yelps as suddenly Jiwoong lifts him, bridal style, into his arms.

“Jiwoon-hyung, what are you doing? Put me down!”

“You just proved you can’t get to the house by yourself, so you left me with no other choice.”

Matthew doesn’t even know where to begin to pick apart the falsehoods of that statement. For one, he only lost his balance because he wasn’t expecting the sudden pain, but it wasn’t all that bad and he definitely can handle walking by himself. There’s also the fact that, aside from carrying him, Jiwoong easily could’ve just lent him an arm to lean on and offered to be a crutch for him instead of picking him up. Lastly, of course, Matthew would like to point out that there are many ways to carry someone, and bridal-style is, well—it’s a choice, not Matthew’s by any means, but definitely a choice.

“I can walk!” he argues.

Jiwoong pays him no mind. “I’m gonna take him inside to get the cut cleaned.”

“Jiwoon-hyung, don’t ignore me! I said I can go by myself just fine!”

Jiwoong, despite Matthew talking straight into his ear at this proximity, acts like he doesn’t even hear him, simply walks back towards the house.

It’s only then that Matthew really does notice how close their faces are. His arms had instinctively wrapped around Jiwoong’s next for fear of falling, but now that he’s become aware of the distance, or lack thereof, between them, he feels his cheeks grow hot.

“I-I’m serious, you can put me down,” he says. “I’m heavy.”

“You’re really not,” Jiwoong chuckles. “Besides, we’re almost there anyway.”

“Oh, so you can hear me.”

Jiwoong doesn’t have a response to that, just silently brings him into the house, specifically the first floor bathroom. He sets him gently on the edge of the bathtub.

“Here, I figured this would be easier for washing the cut out,” Jiwoong says, reaching for the showerhead. He aims it away from Matthew at first, checking the temperature on the back of his hand and adjusting it until he deems it acceptable.

“I can do this all myself, you know? You’re treating me like a kid,” Matthew pouts as he watches.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean you have to. You don’t have to be a kid to let others take care of you sometimes,” Jiwoong says warmly as he gently brushes off some stubborn sand granules from the area surrounding the cut, careful not to accidentally touch the wound.

Matthew doesn’t know what to say that, so he stays quiet.

The bathroom is spacious enough for standard use, but Matthew doesn’t think it was designed with the intent that two grown men would comfortably be able to perch on the ledge of the bath. Jiwoong is so close to him like this, which seems to be becoming an ongoing pattern. One might think that Matthew would be starting to get used to it by now.

Those people would be wrong. His heart is beating just as fast as it was last night and just now from being carried, perhaps even faster.

“Okay, I think it’s clean,” Jiwoong says. “Now, let’s get it disinfected and bandaged up.”

Jiwoong runs to grab him a clean towel to dry him off before then picking him up again—Matthew yelps just as loud as the first time—and bringing him over to the couch.

“Wait here while I find the first aid stuff.”

Matthew doesn’t know why Jiwoong is acting like he has a giant gash on his leg that’s rendering him completely immobile when it really is just a tiny cut which isn’t even bothering him anymore now that the sand is gone, but he feels like he won’t win if he tries to argue. He decides to be obedient.

It doesn’t take long for Jiwoong to return, sitting down on the couch next to him as he quickly pulls out the antiseptic cream. “Sorry if it stings,” he warns.

This time, Matthew’s prepared so it really doesn’t feel all that bad. In fact, the heat he feels is more from feeling Jiwoong’s touch than any burn from whatever bacteria-killing that’s happening.

Once that’s done, Jiwoong quickly places a bandage over it. “There, you’re all set.”

“T-thanks, hyung,” Matthew says, feeling strangely nervous after having Jiwoong’s full and focused attention on only him for all this time.

“Be more careful next time, yeah?”

“It wasn’t even a big deal,” he whines, embarrassed. He feels a little too much like a child getting scolded after being too reckless at the playground, a situation he’s definitely had his fair share of experiences of while growing up.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Jiwoong says, voice so incredibly tender that Matthew can’t help but shy away from it. He doesn’t know if he’s deserving of such delicate sentiments after how he’s treated Jiwoong this past year. He knows he’s hurt Jiwoong, so clearly avoiding him without any real explanation, and yet Jiwoong still doesn’t want Matthew to suffer even the smallest of cuts.

Suddenly, he feels cold, his heart sinking as he’s once again reminded of the weight of his actions. He shivers.

“Are you cold?” Jiwoong notices immediately. “Should I turn the AC down?”

“No, it’s fine!” Matthew says, feeling even worse. How can Jiwoong still be so warm to him when he’s purposely spent so long being cold? How can he be so kind to Matthew when Matthew has been anything but?

“How about we go for a walk outside then? I don’t think you should go back to playing with your knee like that.”

Part of Matthew is tempted to roll his eyes and explain that it’s just a tiny cut and he’s making too big a deal out of it. But Matthew doesn’t think he has it in him to keep denying Jiwoong, even for something this small.

“Sure, hyung.”

Outside, the sun is just starting to set, the faintest of orange hues starting to tint the sky. Matthew follows Jiwoong down the path that leads down the beach, along the rocky cliff that lines it.

“You know,” Jiwoong says, “I’m really glad you came this year.” The “I expected you not to” goes unsaid, but Matthew hears it loud and clear. It rings painfully in his ears.

“I mean that’s what we all agreed to when we first started this, right? No one is allowed to back out. The only thing that can keep someone from coming is near-death.”

“Is that the only reason you came?” Jiwoong asks. “Because you felt obligated?” There’s no bite to the questions, it’s not at all an accusation though Matthew wouldn’t blame him if it were. He’s asking not as an attack, but simply because he wants to know.

Matthew still feels attacked nonetheless. It hits a little too close to home; his earlier temptation to make some sort of excuse, even briefly considering faking his own death to get out of this situation, comes back to haunt him.

And yet, “No, of course not. I think I really missed everyone—more than I realized.”

I missed you.

Matthew would say it if he were less of a coward. But then again, if he were less of a coward, then he wouldn’t have avoided Jiwoong for a year, Jiwoong wouldn’t even have needed to ask that question.

“It’s okay to take time for yourself when you need it, Matthew-yah. No one blames you for that, you know? Even though everyone is happy to have you back here now.” He pauses for a moment, thinking. “You are back, right?”

Jiwoong’s voice sounds so, uncharacteristically fragile when he asks. Not that Jiwoong usually speaks particularly loudly or harshly, but there’s a characteristic steadiness in the calm timbre of his voice. Now, there’s a slight tremble, a dissonance, that makes it seem like it might shatter.

Is Matthew back or is this only for the duration of the trip? Will he stay or will he go right back to avoiding everyone once they leave the sanctuary that is this beach house?

If someone had asked Matthew yesterday, before Hanbin had even arrived to pick him up, his answer might've been different.

Now, though, “I am.”

He smiles at Jiwoong, as reassuringly as he can manage. There’s still a lot of things to fix, a lot of feelings for him to work through, but at the very least, he doesn’t want to force his friends away any longer.

“Good,” Jiwoong says and Matthew thinks he hears something between delight and relief in it. He doesn’t look back at Matthew, but he’s smiling down at the rocky ground beneath them.

By now, the sun has fallen a little lower in the sky, pink tones coming in to join the previously orange tint, colors deepening with each passing minute. Jiwoong walks slightly in front of him and the remaining sunlight frames his figure, illuminating him as if he’s some sort of ethereal being and Matthew genuinely thinks he might be—he supposes this is why so many people harp on about golden hour.

They reach an area that opens up just a bit more. They’ve walked quite far from the main area, the hustle and bustle of the beach nowhere to be found, and the waves here feel gentler, brushing upon the shore rather than crashing against it.

Then, Jiwoong stops and turns around, gentle smile plastered across his face. Like this, with the glow of the sunset behind him, Jiwoong looks stunningly beautiful. Matthew would’ve stopped in his tracks even if Jiwoong hadn’t stopped first because he’s frozen in place at the sight.

Suddenly, he’s reminded of exactly why he had to avoid him for the past year. Like this, Jiwoong is far too beautiful to resist.

He’s not drunk this time, not from alcohol at least though it’s becoming more and more evident that something about Jiwoong makes him similarly delirious, but he can’t stop himself from reaching out for him nonetheless.

Matthew takes a step closer and Jiwoong doesn’t back away.

Matthew takes another step closer and Jiwoong takes a step to mirror him.

Matthew leans in and Jiwoong meets him halfway. Matthew kisses Jiwoong and Jiwoong kisses back.

Jiwoong is gentle, hesitant to push too far, but not Matthew. Matthew is greedy when he kisses—he’s always been like that, but especially when it comes to matters of Jiwoong—and is unrelenting in his pursuit of Jiwoong’s lips.

If he’s being honest, Matthew doesn’t remember all the details of last year’s kiss, the alcohol having washed the intricacies of those memories away. Now, he laments that more than anything because he can’t believe he forgot a memory that he should’ve treasured, held safely in his heart. He can’t believe he had forgotten the feeling of the gentle hand caressing his cheek, the soft lips against his own, the teeth that come to gently nibble at his bottom lip.

Without alcohol dulling his senses this time, it’s so much, overwhelming even. Matthew’s heart is beating so fast it might just fly straight out of his chest to join the seagulls above their heads. Surrounded by the sound of the waves, he feels like he’s underwater, like he’s drowning—in Jiwoong, in his touch, his scent, his taste.

He comes up for breath, ocean air filling his lungs and flushing out the traces of Jiwoong, but it’s futile because Jiwoong floods his sight instead. He’s panting slightly, eyes wide, as he stares at Matthew in quiet disbelief at what just happened—quiet, but seemingly not displeased.

“Matthew, I—”

He doesn’t hear what Jiwoong says next.

Instead, Matthew does what he does best. He runs.

People don’t change that quickly. If Matthew was enough of a coward to avoid his entire friend group for a year just because he was embarrassed over a drunken mistake, then it’s not like he can suddenly become a different person after one night’s sleep.

He’s not proud of running away from Jiwoong, both over the course of the past year and again just now, but instincts and habits are hard to break.

His legs carry him back to the house in record time and he finds that, unfortunately, he has an audience.

“Woah, Matthew-hyung, why are you running?” Gunwook asks, concerned, as Matthew all but stumbles into the house having sprinted the whole way here.

“Uh, bathroom!” he yells, not stopping to address anyone else as he makes a beeline for his new scapegoat.

Once safely behind closed doors, Matthew simply splashes his face with some cold water, both because he’s sweating from all the running and in the hope that it’ll magically fix him somehow. That’s how it usually goes, right? People splash some water onto their face and come back to their senses.

Except Matthew’s face has been thoroughly splashed, hair looking like he just took another dip in the ocean, and he feels no closer to any semblance of sanity.

He feels pathetic having run away from Jiwoong yet again.

Matthew wonders what expression he would’ve seen if he had turned back to look, if Jiwoong was hurt or angry, or simply indifferent at an occurrence that’s become far too common. He promptly splashes himself with water again as if to shoo the bad thought away, like trying to train bad habits out of a dog.

Then, it occurs to him that he’s been in here for a while and if his friends have noticed him hogging the first floor bathroom like this, they probably think he’s taking a shit or something. That’s fine, he supposes. Strangely, he’d much rather them think that than know the truth of why he’s hiding in here.

When he eventually goes back out, no one comments on the fact that his hair is dripping everywhere and getting water all over the floor, but he quickly grabs a towel to wipe it up as best he can so that no one trips and gets hurt.

A quick glance around the first floor reveals everyone present except Jiwoong. Did he never come back inside?

“Hey, Hao-hyung,” he greets since he’s conveniently sat at the couch next to him right now. “Did Jiwoon-hyung not come back in?”

“I haven’t seen him since he brought you in earlier,” Hao answers. He eyes Matthew appraisingly. “Is something wrong?”

He’d asked a simple question and now it looks like he might have walked himself straight into yet another lecture.

“No, of course not!” he says, fooling absolutely no one.

“Okay, I won’t pry if you don’t wanna tell me. I trust you to not be stupid about it. Or well, at least no more stupid than you’ve already been.”

“Hey! That’s—” he starts to object, but stops himself. “That’s totally fair, actually.”

Hao laughs at his quick surrender. “It’s okay, Matthew-yah. Love is hard.”

“L-love!?”

Hao rolls his eyes. “Did you think you were doing a good job of hiding it? I see the way you look at him. We all do.”

“I don’t—I mean, I do, but I—” Matthew stammers, not quite knowing how to refute those accusations, not being able to.

“Cute,” Hao comments, as if someone has just shown him a funny animal picture or something of that nature.

“Hyung, stop making fun of me,” he whines.

“But you’re just so cute!” Hao says, reaching out to pinch his cheeks. Matthew kind of feels like he’s being treated as a pet—not that it upsets him or anything, it’s just the kind of thing Hao does.

“I’m not making fun of you though. I was fully serious when I said love is hard. That’s why I didn’t say anything or try to step in until now.”

“Then, why now?” Matthew asks sheepishly. Did Hao and his weirdly accurate sixth sense somehow catch that Matthew had messed up yet again and decide that this was the last straw?

Hao seems to notice his anxiety and smiles reassuringly. “It seemed like you needed a little nudge.”

For some reason, that simple line makes him feel like crying. He thinks after all he’s put his friends through, he’s more deserving of a punch to the face or a kick to the ribs even, but all Hao wants to give him is a gentle nudge.

“No one here wants to beat you up, Matthew-yah. Especially when you’re already beating yourself up the most.”

Matthew’s laugh comes out a little watery. “Are you a mind reader, hyung?”

“Shh, don’t say it so loudly. You’ll reveal my secret,” he jokes.

Matthew settles in further on the couch, pulls his knees up to his chest because it makes him feel safer. “Hao-hyung, can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“If love is so hard, then how do you make it seem so easy?”

Hao chuckles. “You really think Hanbinnie and I never fight?”

Matthew’s eyes widen. “You fight!? I can’t imagine it.”

“Every couple fights. Honestly, I think a little squabbling is healthy for a relationship,” he says. “Sometimes it’s about something silly and sometimes it’s about something a little more serious. But what matters is that at the end of the day, we figure it out together. And have some pretty great make-up sex afterwards.”

“Hyung!” Matthew shouts, scandalized. “I did not need to know that last part!”

“Sorry, sorry. You’ll understand eventually.”

Matthew wants to deny that, or claim that he already does understand, but when he thinks about his past relationships, he can’t really find an instance where that was true. Fights were fights. The cracks were never mended, but rather covered up. Fights led to breakups. Breakups led to never seeing each other again.

“How do you do that?” Matthew asks.

“Do what?” Hao repeats gently.

“How do you fix things after? How do you not ruin everything? H-how do you—” Matthew chokes on a particularly watery breath. “How do you not lose each other after?”

“Oh, Matthew-yah, come here,” he says, pulling him into a hug, rubbing his back soothingly. “In love, sometimes you fight with each other—that’s bound to happen when you care that much, but what’s important is that you also fight for each other. And when you do, it ends up turning out okay somehow.”

“I was afraid to fight. I just ran away like a coward.”

“It’s okay to be a coward sometimes, it’s scary.”

“But he deserves someone who will fight for him. I haven’t been that.”

“Jiwoong-hyung can make decisions for himself, don’t you think? He knows what he deserves,” Hao says. “And even if you haven’t been that until now, there’s nothing stopping you from becoming that. It’s not too late to start.”

“I-isn’t it though? It’s been a whole year.”

“Well, I can’t speak for him, of course, but if I had to make a guess, maybe waiting is his way of fighting for you,” he says. “Still, you should remember that Jiwoong-hyung is patient, but even he can’t wait forever.”

“I know…”

“So what are you waiting for?”

Matthew takes a deep breath, stands up from the couch a little too quickly, so much that it makes his head spin. “I’m gonna go find him.”

“Okay,” Hao smiles. “Don’t be late for dinner.”

Locating Jiwoong is not all that hard. He’s sitting on one of the lounge chairs not far from the house and Matthew easily spots him right as he steps outside.

“Jiwoon-hyung!” he calls out, then immediately falters when Jiwoong turns to look at him with wide eyes. Matthew waves at him, trying to seem cheerful and not on the verge of another mental breakdown, but it’s so awkward that he thinks a far better use of his hand would’ve been to smack himself.

“Mathew. Hey,” Jiwoong answers, clearly at a loss for what to say. Reasonably so, after Matthew’s cryptic behavior.

“Sorry I ran off like that! I was just—” Matthew briefly considers reusing his earlier dumb excuse, but thinks better of it. He’s trying to improve, after all. “I panicked. It’s a bad habit. I’m sure you’ve probably realized that by now.”

“It’s fine. I can’t say I’m not a bit used to it at this point.”

Matthew doesn’t think it’s meant as an attack, but he winces all the same. “Hyung, I’m so sorry. I’m not—sometimes my body acts faster than my brain. I’m trying to work on it, but it’s—it’s hard.”

Jiwoong’s expression softens. “I don’t mind. You can take your time.”

Oddly enough, Matthew thinks he’d prefer if Jiwoong were angry with him, if he’d demand him to hurry up instead. He doesn’t know what to do with all of Jiwoong’s endless patience and kindness when he has no clue how to return it.

“But I’ve already taken so much time. I—I kind of expected you to give up on waiting,” Matthew admits.

Jiwoong sighs. “I’ll be honest. Sometimes it was tempting,” he confesses and the words sting. But then again, Matthew doesn’t think he has any right to get hurt by them, not when he’s the one who actually gave into his own temptations.

Then, Jiwoong looks back at Matthew with a gaze that holds so many emotions that Matthew doesn’t think he could name them all if he tried—there’s sadness and longing and exhaustion for sure, but there’s also understanding and acceptance and so, so much adoration.

“It was tempting,” he repeats, “but I never want to give up on you.”

“W-why?” Matthew chokes out. You deserve better. I’m not worth it.

“Because it’s you,” Jiwoong says simply, as if that explains anything.

It doesn’t. For the record, it explains nothing. In fact, all it does is raise more questions.

Jiwoong is gorgeous, kind, intelligent, understanding—the list could go on forever. Jiwoong is everything anyone could possibly want in a man, a friend, a lover. Matthew is anything but. His past partners would probably be more than happy to back him up on that. He’s a coward and a liar and insufferably clingy and apparently also stupid because his brain can’t make sense of any of this.

No matter how he thinks about it, it doesn’t make sense for Kim Jiwoong to want Seok Matthew.

“Matthew,” Jiwoong calls gently. “You’re overthinking. I don’t know about what, but I’m fairly certain it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

He stops, blinking back the tears that he didn’t realize were threatening to fall. “Hyung, are we okay? Will we be okay?” he asks, fully aware that he’s the one actively making things not okay, but needing to hear Jiwoong’s answer anyway.

“Of course,” he says, unwavering.

“H-how can you know?”

“Because I’ll make sure it is. I told you, I’m not giving up on you.”

Matthew thinks Jiwoong is making it really hard for him not to cry right now. “Hyung, I—I don’t want to give up either. I don’t want to keep being the kind of person who gives up. I don’t know how yet, but I’m trying. It might not seem like it, but I’m trying.”

“Okay,” he says warmly. “I believe you.”

Matthew knows that wanting is one thing and doing is another, he’s sure that Jiwoong knows this too, but Jiwoong has chosen to believe in him anyway. He’s determined not to betray that belief.

People don’t change overnight, but that’s true for most things. Change takes time and that’s okay. Even if it feels excruciatingly slow, Matthew is trying to get there, step by step.

“Jiwoonie-hyung,” he says, smiling brightly, genuinely. “Come on, if we’re late for dinner, I’ll get in trouble with Hao-hyung.”

“Okay,” Jiwoong laughs, taking Matthew’s outstretched hand.

And yeah, Matthew finally thinks that maybe they will be.

The barbecue goes well enough. Jiwoong is placed on grilling duty, as per usual, because no one else can manage to cook the meat so that the outside isn’t burnt with the inside still raw. At this point, he doesn’t know if it’s more of a testament to Jiwoong’s skills or everyone else’s lack thereof.

Of course, this means Matthew doesn’t get to talk to Jiwoong much during dinner, but that’s fine. They still have time.

His attention doesn’t leave Jiwoong though, personally making sure he gets his fair share, picking out only the best-looking cuts of meat for him. When Jiwoong refuses his offer to switch out for a while, he compromises for running to get a spare towel to dab away his sweat as he tends to the roaring flame.

“So I take it everything went well?” Hao asks, when he catches him.

“It’s not completely fixed yet, I’m still working on it,” Matthew admits. “But I think we’re gonna be okay.”

Part of him is a little worried Hao will be disappointed with that result, scold him for taking even more time. He braces himself for his reaction.

But it proves unnecessary. Hao smiles. “I’m proud of you, Matthew-yah.”

If Matthew’s eyes feel watery for what may be the hundredth time today, he blames it on the smoke from the fire. “Thanks, hyung.”

Matthew then goes back to his mission to ensure that Jiwoong is well fed, perhaps becomes a little greedy with the amount of meat he can fit in one lettuce wrap, but he makes it work.

“Jiwoonie-hyung, ahhhh,” he says, waiting for the older to open his mouth.

“Matthew-yah, you’ve been feeding me more than even yourself, maybe you should—mmph.” He’s interrupted by the lettuce that’s been shoved in his mouth, left with no choice but to give in.

He chews, looking adorably like a disgruntled chipmunk. Matthew laughs, feeling warm not just from heat of the fire.

“You should at least let people finish talking,” Jiwoong scolds when he finally swallows the monstrosity of a lettuce wrap Matthew forced down his throat (out of consideration, of course. He couldn’t let the chef starve.)

“Oops,” Matthew says, doing his best innocent puppy eyes.

It works wonders. Jiwoong’s attempt to look authoritative melts into a fit of giggles.

“Come sit with us, hyung.”

“There’s just one batch of beef left, okay? Then, I’ll come join everyone.”

Matthew wants to tell him to hurry up, but those words might be a little ironic coming from him, even if the context is entirely different. Instead, “Okay, Jiwoonie-hyung. I’ll be waiting.”

Jiwoong smiles. “I won’t be long. Promise.”

Everyone has been shifting around all night, unable to stay in one spot, so he finds his earlier spot taken and a free one next to Gyuvin.

“Mashu-hyung! I’ve barely seen you all day!”

“What are you talking about? We were together all morning, or well, I guess that was technically afternoon, but whatever.”

“Yeah, and then you and Jiwoong-hyung disappeared for a while,” he whines, like the overgrown baby he is. Then, he wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, teasing. “You two seem to be awfully close again.”

Matthew rolls his eyes, punches his arm playfully. “Shut up.”

“I’m serious though, hyung. I’m really happy for you two!”

“Don’t get too excited yet. We’re still figuring things out. I’m fixing it though, I promise.”

Gyuvin beams. “I knew you would.”

Matthew doesn't know where that confidence is coming from or if he's even deserving of it, but he also doesn’t have the heart to point out that he still hasn’t, that there’s still a chance for failure—the boy is smiling far too brightly for Matthew to try and dampen it. Besides, it’s not a promise he made lightly. He fully intends to keep it, even if he’s still working on how to do that.

The rest of dinner passes in a blur. He laughs more than he has in the past year, he thinks.

Eventually, they clean up and decide to move things back inside to hide from the mosquitoes as bites are being discovered one after another.

“I’m gonna run to get my phone charger from my room,” Matthew announces as all of them settle back into the house. Truthfully, his phone has plenty of charge because he’s barely touched it all day, but he needs an excuse to get a moment alone.

Once upstairs, he sits on the edge of the bed to think for a moment.

Things with Jiwoong went well during dinner—they feel normal, okay, maybe even good. But it’s not enough.

To make this work, he has to be fully honest, to really lay himself bare. It scares him. He wants to and he will try his best to, but he can’t help that it scares him nonetheless.

He’s trying to think through everything he needs to say, pre-construct the sentences in his brain so that they’ll come out easier later. It’s a lot harder than he expected.

Then, he hears a familiar sounding knock.

“Matthew, you there?” Taerae’s voice travels through the door.

“Yeah, come in.”

The door promptly opens and closes behind Taerae as he silently lets himself in.

“You must have really wanted the master bedroom considering how many times you’ve bulldozed through that door,” Matthew jokes.

“Mark my words, Seok Matthew, next year it will be mine.”

“We’ll see about that,” he laughs.

“Anyway,” Taerae says, “I came to ask if you wanted to go on a walk with me.”

“A walk?”

Matthew debates telling him that he’s already done his fair share of walking today, that he’s honestly a little bit tired, but despite the wording of a question, he doesn’t think Taerae’s tone indicates much of a choice on his part.

Then again, the intention probably isn’t to go for a real stroll. Matthew guesses that “walk” is probably code for “talk,” which means apparently it’s time for yet another lecture. His friends really should’ve coordinated a group intervention if they were all gonna do this; it would’ve been so much more efficient than these one-on-one talks.

He sighs, “Okay, sure.”

“Cool,” Taerae says simply, leading the way as Matthew follows him outside, not forgetting to reapply some bug spray on the way out just in case the mosquitoes hadn’t gotten their fill earlier.

Just as Matthew predicted, their walk lasts all of one minute, ending promptly at some of the benches right outside the property.

“Well, that was a nice walk,” Matthew jokes.

“Shut up, we both know that’s not why I brought you here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re also here to lecture me about how much of an idiot I’ve been, I get it. You know, this is almost as rigorous as my college class schedule that one year where I had to overload and take an extra course for my minor.”

Taerae laughs. “Relax, Matthew, I’m not gonna lecture you this time. I would’ve if I thought you needed it, but you seem to have made a lot of progress since you arrived yesterday.”

“Then, why?”

“I thought you could use a listening ear,” Taerae explains. “You’re kinda bad at thinking when you’re on your own.”

“I feel like I should take offense to that.”

“You think in circles too much. Sometimes you need someone to listen and shake you out of the cycle every once in a while. So I’m offering to be that person, like the kind and thoughtful friend that I am.”

“Not humble though,” Matthew mutters under his breath, though secretly he’s grateful to have a friend like Taerae.

“Not the point,” Taerae says. “So let’s hear it.”

“I don’t know where to even start.”

“Okay, then I’ll start. How do you feel about Jiwoong-hyung?”

“I love him,” Matthew answers without a second of hesitation. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud or fully admitted it to anyone else; it shocks even himself.

And yet, now with the words out of his mouth, lingering in the air, they feel so much less daunting. He wonders why he hadn’t done this sooner.

“Wow, you admitted that more easily than I thought.”

“I figured it was about time I stopped running from it. It’s not like I was hiding it that well either.”

“You’ve become surprisingly self-aware, huh? Maybe those 18th century British doctors might’ve been onto something about the ocean having magical healing powers.”

“You’re so annoying. I’m going back inside.”

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Taerae raises his hands in surrender before getting back to the matter at hand. “So why haven’t you told him that yet?”

“Because I’m scared,” Matthew sighs, closing his eyes.

Taerae’s voice is gentler when he speaks again. “Scared of what?”

“Scared that something will change. Scared that he’ll think I’m too clingy, that he’ll stop wanting me when that happens. Scared that I’ll lose him.”

Taerae hums in consideration. “Yeah, that’s fair.”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me not to worry? That I have nothing to be afraid of?”

“Well, I’m not naive or a liar, so no. I think those are valid fears. Love is scary. It’s entrusting your heart to another person, letting them see all of you for better or worse, resigning yourself to the fact that they could betray all of that, that they could use it to hurt you instead.”

“T-this isn’t a very encouraging pep talk.”

Taerae chuckles, smiling warmly. “Love is terrifying, Matthew, but we do it anyway. Because for all the pain that we risk, we get the chance at happiness that outshines it tenfold.”

“You stole that line from a movie or something, didn’t you? There’s no way you came up with that yourself.”

“Matthew, that’s clearly not the point.”

He sighs. “I know, I know. I just—I don’t get it. Every time someone talks some sense into me, it all makes sense and it feels like I know what to do and what not to do, but then the moment to do something actually comes and I panic. It’s not like I intended to isolate myself for this long, but I kept telling myself I needed a bit more time to figure things out and then a bit more time turned into a little more which turned into kind of a lot and then a whole year passed before I knew it.” He groans, drops his head into his hands. “Taerae, what’s wrong with me? I know what I want to do, have to do, but I just can’t fucking do it.”

“Matthew, stop. You’re spiraling,” Taerae says calmly. “There’s nothing wrong with you. A lot of people struggle with emotions and vulnerability—it’s very normal.”

There’s something weirdly comforting about the somewhat detached way that Taerae talks about things of this nature, like he’s reading a list of facts rather than stating his own beliefs. It makes Matthew feel grounded, the lack of emotion balancing out the swirling mess of them in his own head.

“Okay, yeah. You’re right,” he says, having adequately calmed down now. “Thanks.”

“Do you wanna tell me about what happened last year?” Taerae prompts gently. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to. But Jiwoong-hyung was pretty tight-lipped about it and we barely even saw you.”

Matthew sighs. After everything, he figures the least he can offer is an explanation. “There’s not much to say, honestly.”

There is. There’s a lot to say, but even after a full year, Matthew’s still scared to fully remember it.

“You guys were fine after the first night, right? Everything still seemed normal that day.”

“Yeah, I only got a little tipsy that day. I was sleepy so Jiwoon-hyung carried me to my room and that was it.”

“But the second day, everyone went a little overboard. We were playing that dumb game, huh?”

“Yeah,” Matthew says, taking a deep breath to prepare himself to finally say it out loud. “We were the last people up—more like I forced him to stay up with me. I was way too drunk and kissed Jiwoon-hyung. He pushed me away. We never talked about it, mostly because I didn’t let him. I was too afraid to hear what he’d say, so I avoided him and all of you for a year because I’m a cowardly asshole. Not that interesting of a story, see?”

The truth is that there’s a little more to it than that, but even now, Matthew’s not quite ready to confront more than the Sparknotes version of it. For now, this will suffice.

Taerae pauses, as if taking it all in. Then, “Matthew, I swear, if you did that because you thought Jiwoong-hyung was rejecting you, then you’re an idio—”

“That’s not why,” Matthew interrupts. “Well, sometimes that’s what I told myself—to take it as a rejection so that it’d be easier to move on—but deep down, I think I knew that wasn’t it.”

“What was it then?”

“I was just scared to know the outcome either way. If it was rejection, then our friendship might change and become awkward and I might lose him, but it was still only a might. Jiwoon-hyung is kind and mature and maybe we could get past that. If it wasn’t rejection though, that was more complicated. Our friendship would change for sure, in ways that I could never predict, and that scared me. If we dated and it didn’t work out, it would’ve been harder to go back to normal. The chance that I’d lose him would be greater.”

“So instead of risking that hypothetical chance that you’d lose him, you decided the better option was to actively avoid him at all costs? In what way is that different? Wasn’t that losing him anyway?”

“Yeah, but I could try and pretend it was my choice. I don’t even know why anymore, but I was desperately clinging onto some weird semblance of control,” Matthew answers. “It’s dumb, I know. I’m not proud of it. But that’s what I thought.”

 “It’s definitely dumb,” Taerae sighs, but gives Matthew a sympathetic look. “It makes sense though.”

“Thanks for validating my unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

“Don’t get used to it,” Taerae laughs. “But you’re done being in denial and trying to pretend you’re not in love with Jiwoong-hyung?”

“Yeah, I think I’ve had enough of that. The next step is telling him which—is proving to be harder than it should be.”

“You told me pretty easily.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not him.”

“Acute observation there. Good job.”

“I don’t need your sarcasm right now. I’m still in the middle of a crisis.”

“You and your crisis seemed pretty chummy at dinner at least.”

Matthew rolls his eyes. “Dinner was good. Dinner felt like our old normal. It was easier because I know how to do that. This part now, confessing, this time sober, it’s new territory.”

“Is it though? You know Jiwoong-hyung well. You know that he loves you back.”

“I-I know,” Matthew says. Sometimes he likes to pretend that he doesn’t because it’s easier. A person’s heart is a heavy thing to carry after all, a responsibility that he was too scared to take on until now. “I just—what if he stops?”

“All you can do is trust that he won’t,” Taerae says. “But if you ask me, I really don’t think you have anything to worry about on that front. You straight up ignored him for a year and he still looks at you like an angel who can do no harm.”

Matthew winces at the reminder. “But like doesn’t that just show how he deserves better than me? If anything, it should be him not trusting me after everything I did to him instead of the other way around right now. Nothing makes sense.”

“That’s not how these things work. Love isn’t supposed to make sense.”

“That makes it so much harder though,” Matthew whines.

“Yeah, well, tough luck. That’s life,” Taerae says, not even a drop of sympathy in it.

“This really isn’t an encouraging pep talk.”

“I never said it was a pep talk.”

“If it’s not a lecture and it’s not a pep talk, then what the fuck do you call this?”

Taerae smiles, standing up from the bench and extending a hand to pull Matthew up with him. “It’s a walk.”

When Matthew returns to the house with Taerae, the sight they’re greeted with is a little different from when they left. Hao, Hanbin, and Jiwoong are the only ones left in the living room area, and Jiwoong looks a little too flushed to be normal.

“Maeddu-yah!” Jiwoong calls excitedly, right as he enters. He clumsily gets up from where he was on the floor and comes running towards Matthew, wrapping his arms around his neck and promptly letting Matthew hold up almost his entire body weight.

“How much did you give him to drink?!” Taerae shouts at the other two. “This was not the plan!”

Matthew’s head is reeling. He wants to ask what Taerae means by “plan,” though he can probably make an educated guess anyway, but he’s a little preoccupied with the man desperately clinging onto him.

“It wasn’t our fault!” Hanbin says, raising his hands in surrender.

“Yeah, he kept pouring himself more shots! We tried to slow him down after the second bottle of soju, but he didn’t wanna listen,” Hao adds.

Taerae groans. “For the record, I did my part. I hope this doesn’t screw everything up.”

Matthew is about to scold Taerae for commenting on the situation as if he’s not literally right here, but he doesn’t get a chance.

“Maeddu-yah,” Jiwoong calls his name again, more calmly this time. His face is too close though and Matthew can feel his breath on his ear, blood rushing to his face in response. “I missed you.”

“Hyung, I wasn’t even gone for that long.”

“I didn’t mean now,” he says. “Well, actually I did miss you now too, but I meant all of last year. I couldn’t stand not being able to see you.”

Matthew stiffens, guilt washing over him at the admission. Jiwoong had seemed so calm and collected earlier, so unbothered by all of it, but they say alcohol brings out the truth.

They also say the truth hurts and, well, Matthew thinks he can attest to both of those statements right now.

“I’m sorry, hyung,” he says simply because what else can he really say?

It’s true that he fucked up and he’s not trying to deny that. He wants to start making up for it and that was supposed to start with a long, honest conversation, but that doesn’t seem particularly plausible right now, at least not if the way Jiwoong can barely stand straight is any indication.

“I should probably get him into bed,” Matthew says to the others who are all silently watching.

“Do you need help?” Hanbin asks.

Matthew considers it. He thinks himself quite strong, puts a lot of effort into maintaining his workout routine, but Jiwoong is still larger than him and logistically speaking, it makes supporting his entire body weight just the tiniest bit difficult. And yet, despite the fact that he knows none of his friends pose a threat, there’s a strange feeling of possessiveness that arises in him.

“No, I got him,” he answers easily. He wants to be someone Jiwoong can lean on, both figuratively, and right now, quite literally.

“I’ll just bring up a glass of water then.”

“Thanks, hyung. That’d be great.”

“Let us know if you need anything,” Hao adds.

Matthew’s instinct is to simply shoot him a thumbs up but his hands are a little occupied right now, so he settles for a smile and a nod.

As he makes his way up the stairs, he wonders if this is what Jiwoong had to deal with last year with him on that first night, though his bedroom was on the first floor in that house. It’s a bit funny how their roles have been reversed now.

Matthew reaches the top of the staircase just a little more tired than he’d like to admit. In his defense, it’s been a long day of physical activity.

He’s tired from dragging Jiwoong’s entire body weight around, from playing around on the beach all day, and perhaps most of all, from running away for all this time.

Matthew thinks it’s about time he stopped—he’s done hiding from last year’s memories.

Jiwoong watches as Matthew lights another firecracker, excitedly swinging it around as the little sparks illuminate his face.

“Jiwoonie-hyung!” he shouts excitedly. “Guess what I’m writing!”

Jiwoong laughs as he watches Matthew wave the sparkler with a little too much enthusiasm, tracing a shape that he’s certain would be impossible for anyone to follow.

“Matthew-yah, I can’t guess if you move that fast. Slow down a bit, will you?”

“It’s not a challenge if it’s too easy though!” he whines. “It’s not my fault you’re old and your eyes are failing you.”

“Yah! This isn’t about my eyesight, you’re just bad at this.”

Matthew gasps dramatically. “You take that back,” he threatens, poking the sparkler in his direction as it slowly fizzles out. “Ugh, now you took too long and it went out.”

“Take this one,” Jiwoong offers, handing a pouting Matthew the one he had been holding.

“But what about you, hyung?”

“I’m having fun just watching,” he smiles. And it’s true. If he had his own, then he’d have to keep his eyes on it even if just for the fire hazard, which means he wouldn’t be able to pay as much attention to Matthew and that’s never an easy task. When given the choice, he never wants to take his eyes off of him.

Matthew raises an eyebrow at him, smirking. “You’re really not beating the grandpa allegations with that one.”

The joke may be at his own expense, but Jiwoong laughs as Matthew lights the new sparkler and goes back to writing words that he can’t decipher a single one of.

They’d bought a giant pack of sparklers wholesale and when they were loading the car, it had seemed like more than enough, but between the nine of them, they disappear in what feels like an instant.

It’s not much later that they clean up, head back inside, and break out the alcohol. Granted, Yujin isn’t quite of age yet, (though at twenty years old, he’s scarily close to it considering Jiwoong still sees him as the seventeen-year old little baby that was first introduced to him,) and Taerae doesn’t really drink, and Gunwook generally shies away from it, still not particularly fond of the taste, so it’s just a few of them.

Interestingly enough, Matthew stays despite not being one to drink usually. “I mean, it’s fine, it just tastes kinda bad,” he’ll say, scrunching his nose adorably.

Today though, he seems oddly determined, eyeing his glass of somaek as if it’s his opponent in battle.

“No one’s forcing you to drink, Matthew-yah,” Jiwoong reassures, just in case he’s doing it out of pressure, though that doesn’t really make sense considering, again, a good number of them choose not to drink either.

“I know, I’m drinking because I want to,” Matthew says, though he sounds kind of unsure.

Jiwoong nods, but makes a mental note to keep an eye on him just in case. Then again, to make such a note is pretty pointless because his eyes are always on Matthew regardless, whether he makes a conscious decision of it or not.

Over the course of the night, Jiwoong watches as Matthew’s cheeks get a little redder, listens fondly as his Korean gets a little clumsier—he couldn’t take his attention off of him even if he tried. Since a long time ago, Matthew has had him entranced, completely under his spell.

Matthew yawns, blinking slowly, eyelids taking longer and longer to rise with each successive fall.

“I think it’s your bedtime,” Jiwoong says gently.

“No!” Matthew shoots up from the couch in protest. They’re actually the last ones still in the living room, everyone else having retreated to their own rooms to sleep or partake in other activities that Jiwoong does not want to know about. (After some events last year, Jiwoong insisted that they splurge a bit on the house reviewed to have more soundproof walls and he definitely didn’t meet a lot of backlash on that proposal.)

“Matthew, you’re clearly tired. Everyone else went to bed too. There’s nothing stopping you from going to bed.”

“I’m not though!” he pouts, having suddenly perked up. “I’ll prove it!”

Suddenly, Matthew stands up and decides to run laps around the couch. He manages to circle around almost a full two times before Jiwoong catches his arm and pulls him back down. He falls with a light “oof” and lands a little closer to Jiwoong than he was before.

Any closer and Matthew would practically be on his lap.

But, oh, it looks like Jiwoong has spoken too soon because instead of settling back into the cushions, Matthew sits back up, promptly climbing onto him. In the blink of an eye, he finds himself face to face with Seok Matthew who is indeed straddling his lap.

Jiwoong is just a normal human being with only so much self-control, which can only mean one thing right now—he’s absolutely, irrevocably doomed.

“Hyung,” Matthew whines. “Jiwoonie-hyung, pay attention to me.”

It’s a ridiculous request because it’s already been granted since long ago. He always is—he wouldn’t even know how to stop if he wanted to. “I-I’m listening, I’m right here.”

“Do you believe me now?” he asks, wearing a goofy grin, like he’s proud for having proven himself right.

“I believe you,” Jiwoong chuckles fondly, because he’s never seen Matthew this drunk and loopy and he should be the sensible hyung who reminds him to drink some water after this, but he’s so, so cute that Jiwoong is losing his sense of reason. He wants to keep him here on his lap for as long as he can because every second of having him here, close like this, is precious.

“Hyungg,” Matthew calls again, drawing it out even longer.

“What is it?”

“You never guessed what I was writing earlier,” he pouts.

“I’m sorry, Matthew-yah. You made it too hard for hyung to figure out.”

“Do you wanna know?”

“Tell me.”

“Are you sure you wanna know?”

Jiwoong laughs. “Is it a secret or something?”

Matthew leans in closer, burrows himself in the crevice of his neck, voice down to a whisper that tickles his ear. “Yeah, it’s a secret from Jiwoonie-hyung.”

He doesn’t quite know how to respond to that. Is Matthew so drunk that he can’t remember who he’s speaking to, whose lap he’s currently sitting on?

Matthew pulls away slightly, looks straight at him. “I like you.”

“W-what?”

“I like you, hyung,” he repeats, words coming out slightly slurred together from the alcohol. “That’s the secret. That’s what I was writing to you earlier.”

“W-why is it a secret then?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you because I don’t want you to leave me.”

Jiwoong’s eyes widen in shock. He doesn’t even know what Matthew means by that, why he would possibly think that, but he reaches out for him instinctually nonetheless. He brings a hand to gently hold his cheek. “Matthew, I would never leave you.”

“That’s what they all said. Can’t risk it with you—you’re too important.”

Jiwoong doesn’t know who “they” is, probably his exes he surmises. He knows Matthew’s dated a few people before, but no names come to mind because none of them stuck around for very long. Of course, Matthew didn’t let it show that he was ever particularly bothered by those relationships ending, simply continuing to show his bright smiles and Jiwoong had foolishly believed in them. He sees now that there was probably much more hidden under the surface.

Suddenly, Matthew raises a finger to Jiwoong’s lips, smooshing them slightly. “Shh, don’t tell Jiwoonie-hyung.”

He freezes, unsure of what to do. He’s just been told not to tell himself that the boy he’s hopelessly in love with likes him.

“Matthew,” he calls fondly. “You just told me though?”

“Hyung,” Matthew says back, gaze unfocused. “I wanna kiss you.”

This time, Jiwoong’s brain really short-circuits.

“Matthew, what are you saying?”

“I know I can’t have you, but can I at least have this? Just once, just for today.”

Matthew looks at him with pleading eyes, so painfully desperate—painful because Jiwoong doesn’t like Matthew wearing an expression of such intense longing. If he had the power to, he'd make sure that Matthew always gets everything he wants so he doesn’t have to feel such emotions. He’s far too familiar with how much it hurts, after all, to feel such a deep desire for something out of reach.

This though, perhaps isn’t as out of reach as he once thought.

The boy on his lap leans forward, though he doesn’t really have to travel far considering their proximity in this position, and presses his lips to Jiwoong’s.

Matthew, Jiwoong finds, is aggressive when he kisses, immediately demanding entrance to Jiwoong’s mouth and he’s never been good at denying him. Again, he’d give Matthew everything he ever wanted, the world, if he could.

Jiwoong feels dizzy from the way Matthew kisses him, like he’s sucking the air straight out of his lungs. He feels light-headed, but if this is what Matthew wants, he’ll give it to him. He’ll gladly be his oxygen tank, offer up everything until not a single molecule remains.

But then, Jiwoong recognizes the slight taste of soju on Matthew’s tongue and, conversely, it sobers him in an instant. As much as he wants this, and apparently Matthew does too, this isn’t right. Matthew is too drunk to think straight, which should’ve been abundantly obvious, but once the idea of Matthew’s lips on his had entered his brain, all reason had been pushed right out in its stead.

It’s not what he wants to do, perhaps the hardest thing he’s ever had to do, but Jiwoong pushes Matthew away.

Matthew’s expression is painted with hurt and Jiwoong’s heart breaks, not cleanly in two but into a thousand tiny hairline fractures, at the fact that he’s the reason Matthew is wearing such an expression.

“Matthew, I’m sorry, it’s just—”

“No, it’s fine, hyung. You don’t have to explain,” Matthew says, doing his best attempt at a smile, but it’s all wrong—it’s full of sadness, regret. “It’s late. We should go to bed.”

It happens too fast. Matthew has already picked himself up off of Jiwoong’s lap and is headed for the door, getting farther and farther away with each second Jiwoong’s stupid brain lags behind.

“Matthew, wait,” he pleads, but it’s too late. Matthew is gone.

But it’s fine, he thinks, because the conversation they need to have is not one that should be done in the presence of alcohol anyway. Come morning, they’ll have a proper talk; everything will be fine.

Little did he know back then how wrong that would prove to be. He had no clue that that last glimpse of Matthew’s retreating silhouette, that short taste of his lips, would be the last time he’d see him, touch him, for a full year.

Jiwoong had thought naively that morning would bring a new beginning, not realizing until too late how he’d been wrong.

That moment marked, not the beginning, but rather the end.      

Matthew maneuvers Jiwoong to sit on the edge of the bed with relative ease. “Hyung, wait for me a second. I’m just gonna grab your pajamas.”

“No,” Jiwoong says, petulantly. He reaches up to grab Matthew, not by the arms but rather by the cheeks, which he proceeds to squeeze.

“Hyun’ wha’ are you doin’?” Matthew asks, finding it a little difficult to speak when he’s lost control—quite literally, control has been taken from him—over his facial muscles like this.

“You’re not allowed to leave me.”

“I’m not leaving, I’m just getting you a change of clothes.”

“You said you didn’t want me to leave you, but you ended up being the one to leave instead,” Jiwoong says, for the first time referencing the events of last year.

Jiwoong looks so broken, vulnerable right now. Matthew feels guilt eat away at him for it. Jiwoong who always stands tall, putting up a strong front, looks so small sitting on the bed in front of him and there’s no one but Matthew to blame for it.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he says, wincing. It’s not enough, but it’s all he knows how to offer.

“Don’t make that face.”

“W-what face?” Matthew asks.

“The one where you’re hurting. I don’t like when you’re hurting.”

“Even when I hurt you so much?”

“Yeah,” Jiwoong answers, with too little hesitation.

It’s well-deserved that Jiwoong doesn’t deny the fact that he’s hurt him, it’s the truth after all, but it stings a little nonetheless. Jiwoong has always acted strong in front of Matthew, pretending that those things wouldn’t hurt him and that he was fine, even though it was clearly at his own detriment. Now, to finally be confronted with what lied underneath the act—well, it’s a lot. It makes him somehow feel worse than he already did.

“Jiwoon-hyung, you’re too forgiving,” he says, gently bringing his hand up to Jiwoong’s cheek, gently stroking his thumb along his jaw.

“You’re still making that face,” Jiwoong pouts. Despite everything, he looks so incredibly cute like this and Matthew can’t help but laugh.

Jiwoong perks up at the sound. “Good. That’s better.”

“Hyung, you’re cute when you’re drunk,” Matthew says, very much amused. Jiwoong usually doesn’t let himself drink too much, only ever gets tipsy at most, probably because he’s trying to be the responsible one who looks after everyone else.

It’s kind of unfair, now that he thinks about it. Unfair to Jiwoong because he deserves a chance to let loose too, and unfair to Matthew because he can’t believe he’s been deprived of such an adorable sight for so long.

“Only when I’m drunk?”

“No, of course not,” Matthew chuckles. “You’re always cute.”

“You’re cuter though,” Jiwoong says, poking at his cheek.

Then, Jiwoong yawns and suddenly Matthew is reminded of what he was tasked with when bringing him upstairs in the first place.

He grabs the glass of water that Hanbin had brought from the bedside table and hands it to Jiwoong.

“Here, drink this and then we’ll go to bed,” Matthew instructs.

“What if I don’t wanna go to bed?” Jiwoong asks childishly.

“Hyung, you just yawned. You’re tired,” he reasons back. Matthew’s had his fair share of taking care of drunk friends who argue back against anything and everything he tells them to do even when it’s for their own sake and it can be exhausting—with Jiwoong though, he just finds himself endeared. Besides, at the very least, he’s grateful that Jiwoong doesn’t fight him about the water, obediently sipping on the tall glass.

“Just a little longer.”

“You’re not denying you’re tired, so what is it that makes you not wanna sleep yet?”

Jiwoong looks straight up at him, with sincere eyes. “I don’t want this moment to end. I’m afraid you’ll run from me again in the morning.”

The guilt washes over him again, but he ignores it. He can’t change what he did in the past, but he can change how he acts in the present, in the future.

“Hyung, I’m sorry I made you doubt that before, but I promise I’m done running. From now on, I’ll never run away from you. I’ll chase you, even.”

“On one condition then.”

“Name it.”

“Can we cuddle?” he asks, pouting ever so slightly, pleading. As if Matthew could ever want to deny him that, as if he doesn’t selfishly want it for himself too.

Matthew can barely contain himself at how adorable he looks, but he manages to keep it together. “Okay, hyung."

Jiwoong finishes his water and lets himself be maneuvered into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change into his pajamas. It’s lucky that they have the master bedroom, Matthew thinks, if just for the convenience of having the bathroom right there.

He follows suit after Jiwoong and turns off the lights on his way back to bed, climbing under the covers where Jiwoong promptly pulls him flush against his body, not that he’s protesting. He likes nothing more than being in Jiwoong’s arms.

“Goodnight, Jiwoon-hyung,” he says.

Jiwoong’s response is muffled as he speaks directly into the crown of his head. “Goodnight, baby.”

Matthew’s eyes shoot back open, heart rate speeding up at the pet name, but the steady sound of Jiwoong’s breathing tells him that the older is already well on his way to dreamland.

It’s fine. Morning will come soon enough and then they’ll address everything then.

For now, Matthew falls asleep to the thought that when he wakes up, the first thing he’ll see is Jiwoong.

Except it’s not.

Matthew wakes up cold, Jiwoong’s side of the bed empty.

He tries not to panic immediately; there could be a number of explanations for this. Jiwoong could just be in the bathroom or simply have woken up too early or been asked to help with breakfast. He tries to pretend it’s not that jarring to wake up in such a large bed alone.

He pushes the thought out of his head as he quickly gets ready and heads downstairs. Eventually, he does run into Jiwoong in the kitchen who looks like he’s just finished plating up breakfast for everyone—simple eggs and toast, but with a side of kimchi. Western breakfast is a lot easier to prepare so it’s what they gravitate towards on these trips, but they still can’t leave out the kimchi.

“Jiwoon-hyung, good morning,” Matthew greets. “When did you get up? You could’ve woken me up to help too.”

“Oh, Matthew, hey,” Jiwoong says, awkwardly avoiding eye contact. “It didn’t take long. Wanted you to get more sleep. I should start packing. See you.”

He proceeds to dart out of the room faster than Matthew can even think to respond, not even glancing at him in the process and, well, that’s strange. A little hurtful.

The rest of the morning is a bit chaotic as they all scramble to clean up last night’s mess that they had left until now before the checkout time. It doesn’t go unnoticed though how every time Matthew steps into a room, Jiwoong conveniently leaves it. There’s no doubt that he’s being avoided.

He supposes he can’t really get mad at him for it—that’d be rather hypocritical after all—but getting a taste of his own medicine isn’t particularly fun.

If it were any time before this weekend, Matthew might have taken this as a sign to give up, to use it as an excuse to keep hiding from his fears. Now though, it’s different. He promised Jiwoong that he was done running away, that he’d chase him if he had to, and granted, he didn’t expect to have to, but that won’t stop him from keeping his word.

Unfortunately, Jiwoong seems to be ever the expert at evasion and Matthew is always just a second too late to catch him. The fact that they’re still tidying things up for checkout and Matthew doesn’t want to be the one slacker who isn’t doing anything to help doesn’t aid his cause either.

After putting some couch cushions back into place after they had thrown them all to the ground so they could sit together on the floor at one point, Matthew turns the corner out of the living room and bumps straight into Hanbin.

“Ah, sorry, hyung!”

“Oh, Seokmae! Exactly who I was looking for.”

“Eh? You were looking for me?” Matthew doesn’t know what Hanbin could need from him right now, but he’s got his hands a little full between running around helping and trying to catch Jiwoong. In fact, he thinks he sees a familiar mop of black hair run up the stairs out of the corner of his eyes.

“Don’t worry, I won’t keep you long,” Hanbin says. “I just wanted to tell you not to worry about cleaning. We’ll handle it.”

“But hyung—”

“He should be going into the bedrooms upstairs. Hao-hyung tasked him with checking all of them for forgotten items. You should be able to trap him pretty easily.”

Matthew’s mouth falls slightly open in surprise and Hanbin laughs.

“The next time I see you two, I expect you to have properly worked things out.”

In hindsight, it’s a little funny how Hanbin was one of the few people not to give him a full-on lecture. Then again, maybe it makes sense. Things between them don’t need to be spoken for them to be understood.

Matthew smiles, raising his hand to his head in a fake solute. “Roger that, Hanbin-hyung.”

Hanbin sees him off with a slight nudge on the shoulder. “Now, hurry up. There’s not that much longer until checkout.”

Matthew doesn’t need to be told twice, runs up the stairs with so much vigor that it probably shakes the whole house. He finds Jiwoong in the shared room, the one he was originally supposed to sleep in, and promptly runs inside, closing the door behind him.

“Jiwoon-hyung! I know that I, of all people, really have no right to say this, but can you stop avoiding me so we can talk. Please.”

“M-Matthew, I wasn’t—”

“Hyung, please. It’d be beyond hypocritical for me to yell at you for running from me, but I meant what I said when I said I was done running. But if you really want me to go and leave you alone, I’ll respect that.”

Jiwoong sighs. “I don’t want that. I just—I was embarrassed after last night.”

“What could you possibly have to be embarrassed about? I’m the one who’s been acting like an idiot since last year.”

“I’m the hyung and yet I was drunk and messy and even had to make you take care of me.”

Matthew frowns because how could Jiwoong even think such a thing. “Hyung, I wish you’d let me take care of you more. That might sound ridiculous coming from me after how I’ve been acting, but you can always rely on me. Taking care of you is never a chore.”

“But I’m the oldest. I’m supposed to be the reliable one.”

“You’re not supposed to be anything. You’re just supposed to be you,” Matthew says. His gaze softens as he takes in the sight in front of him, the object of his affections—he doesn’t try to hide it anymore. “The you I fell in love with.”

Jiwoong’s eyes widen. “Y-you’re in love with me?”

Matthew looks back at him sheepishly, ashamed not by the admission itself but by the fact that Jiwoong doubts it, that Matthew made it so that he could ever doubt it. “I know I’ve been doing a really shitty job of showing it, but I am. I’ve been in love with you for years, Jiwoon-hyung. It took me a long time, too long, but I’m finally not afraid to admit it anymore.”

“I-I mean, I had hoped, after what happened last year,” Jiwoong stammers. “But then you just, disappeared. You tried to avoid being around me and when you couldn’t help but be, you still refused to look at me, and I didn’t know what to think anymore.”

Matthew sighs. “Can we sit down? I think I owe you an explanation and about a billion apologies.”

Jiwoong wordlessly makes himself comfortable on the bed behind him, patting the spot next to him as a gesture for Matthew to sit beside him.

It’s tempting, sitting side by side like this, for Matthew to focus his gaze on the ground and not have Jiwoong’s piercing gaze burn holes through him. But he’s grown past that.

Even if he has to strain his neck slightly, he makes sure to look Jiwoong straight in the eye. “Right, so I think I should start with sorry. Again. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to apologize enough for how I’ve treated you this past year and you didn’t deserve any of it. And if you wanna punch me or something for it, then I won’t fight back.”

Matthew is fully serious about his offer, yet Jiwoong laughs at him. “Matthew, I’m not gonna punch you. That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying you can. And you can let me know if you change your mind.”

“Matthew, please. I may have been drunk when I said it, but I wasn’t lying when I said I don’t like seeing you hurt. And I’d never want to see you hurt because of me.”

“I just—I’ve been so terrible to you without even giving you a reason.”

“Then, give me a reason now,” Jiwoong says simply, as if that’s all he’d ask of Matthew to earn his forgiveness.

Matthew doesn’t think it’s enough, but he does his best to answer anyway.

“I was scared. I had been in love with you for a long time, but I was afraid of you finding out. And then I got drunk and I kissed you and you pushed me away and I used that as an excuse to run away from my fear instead of trying to face it head on.”

“Matthew, I only pushed you away because I didn’t want to take advantage of your vulnerable state. You had had a lot to drink and I didn’t want you to regret anything. Even though I desperately wanted more, I couldn’t do that to you, not like that.”

“I-I know, hyung. I tried to trick myself into thinking that was a rejection, because it made things easier in my head. I thought that I could just get over you that way and we could just go back to being friends and nothing would change.” Matthew scoffs at his own past stupidity. “But I really should’ve known from the years I spent trying and failing to get over my crush on you that it wouldn’t be that easy. I just couldn’t fall out of love with you.”

Jiwoong hesitantly brings a hand up to Matthew’s face, cupping his cheek gently. “Why, though? Why were you trying so hard to?”

Matthew takes a deep breath before going on. “In all my past relationships, no matter how well we clicked or how perfect it seemed at first, they all ended up becoming strangers. I was scared for that to happen with you. Even if you liked me back then, if something changed in the future, I was terrified I might lose you from it.” Suddenly, there’s a wetness gathering around his eyes, but Jiwoong is quick to gently wipe away at any tears that make their way down his cheeks. “Hyung, even just the thought of losing you hurt and I wasn’t brave enough to take that risk.”

“There was never a risk though,” Jiwoong says. “There was never any chance that my feelings for you would ever change, not when I’ve been in love with you for just as long, probably even longer.”

“I’m sorry,” Matthew says between little sniffles. “I’m sorry for being a coward and an idiot and I know I don’t deserve a second chance and that it’s probably too late, but I love you. Jiwoon-hyung, I love you so much.”

Both of Jiwoong’s hands on cupping his face now, frantically wiping away any tears that fall. “Matthew, baby, I’ve long since forgiven you. I was never even mad, just worried. It’s never too late. I would’ve waited an eternity for you to come back to me because I love you too.”

“Hyung, you’re too good to me. I don’t deserve you,” he cries.

“Shh,” Jiwoong places a finger to his lips. “I don’t wanna hear any of that."

“But, hyung—”

“None of that,” Jiwoong cuts him off. “Tell me, are you still scared? Of things changing?”

“A little,” Matthew admits. He can’t help it. Jiwoong’s too important to him, so even the smallest, most insignificant things feel like they could bring the end of the world.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course, hyung. I’d trust you with my life.”

“Then, trust that I won’t let you down,” Jiwoong says, placing a kiss to his forehead.

“Can I ask for something selfish, Jiwoon-hyung?”

“Ask away.”

“Can I ask you to be my boyfriend? Can I ask for forever?”

“Matthew, I don’t know if I can grant both of those requests.”

Matthew’s heart sinks. It’s a reasonable answer. He knows he’s asked for too much, but Jiwoong had reassured him just a moment ago—this feels a little like betrayal.

Jiwoong flicks his forehead lightly. “Not like that, silly. I can’t be your boyfriend forever because eventually I’d have to be upgraded, no? Not now, not anytime soon, of course, but one day I’d like to be your fiancé, and then after that, your husband, if you’d have me.”

Matthew’s head spins. Matthew had asked for something absurdly unreasonable, and Jiwoong has offered him that and more without even batting an eyelash.

“Please,” is the only thing he manages to say before he surges forward, capturing Jiwoong’s lips. “Promise me?”

“I prom—mmph.”

Matthew kisses Jiwoong with all he has. He’s always been selfish and greedy—now is no different. He demands entrance to Jiwoong’s mouth, takes his lips between his teeth to nibble on like his own personal snack, pushes his tongue around until Jiwoong makes the sounds that he’s been dying to hear, playing him like his own personal instrument. He kisses Jiwoong as if he belongs to him.

“Matthew,” Jiwoong pants as they part for air. Then, he erupts into a fit of giggles, “At least let me finish talking.”

“Sorry,” Matthew says. “I’m impatient and selfish. I’ve been cowardly and stupid. Even then, do you still—”

It’s Jiwoong’s turn to interrupt. This time he kisses Matthew, but much more softly. His lips feel like a warm caress, a gentle hug—it feels like love.

Jiwoong pulls away only slightly, their faces still mere centimeters apart. “I promise,” Jiwoong whispers. “You can be as selfish as you want and I’ll still do my best to meet all your demands. I’ll hold your hand when you’re scared. Tell me what’s on your mind and I’ll talk you out of doing anything stupid. Or I’ll do the stupid thing with you.”

“Jiwoon-hyung…”

“I love you, Matthew. All of you. No matter what you do.”

“I love you too. I won’t let you doubt it anymore, never again.”

“I believe you. I trust you,” Jiwoong says, gaze soft and sincere.

Matthew mirrors it. “I trust you too.”

They stay there for a moment, searching each other’s eyes and finding nothing but love. Matthew leans forward slightly, so that their foreheads touch, so that they’re connected. He never wants to move from this spot.

But that’d be too good to be true.

Suddenly, there’s a loud car honk from outside the window. Matthew moves to the window to peer outside the curtain, Jiwoong following suit, only to find that all of their friends are already outside, cars fully packed.

Gyuvin waves his freakishly long limbs maniacally towards them. “Matthew-hyung! Jiwoon-hyung! We gotta go!” he shouts. “We tried to wait as long as possible, but time’s up!!”

“We’ll be down in a second!” Matthew shouts back, laughing.

He takes Jiwoong’s hand in his, pulling him down the stairs together. He leans up on his tippy toes and presses one last kiss to his lips right before they head out the front door.

Maybe time is up for this year’s trip, but Matthew is no longer worried.

After all, they have forever ahead of them now.

Sometimes the passage of time confuses Matthew because he really can’t wrap his head around the fact that it’s already that time of year again.

It’s once again time for their annual “Beach Episode.” It’ll be the fifth in total, but only the first with Jiwoong as his boyfriend and Matthew couldn’t be more excited.

They’d decided to leave Saturday morning this year instead of Friday night so they’d be less rushed, but Matthew is impatient. He wouldn’t stop rattling Jiwoong’s ear off about how excited he was since last week.

Taerae’s not scheduled to pick them up for another two hours, but Matthew woke up far too early and couldn’t fall back asleep, so now he’s triple-checking their bags to make sure they’ve packed everything they need.

It’s funny to think that last year he was dreading going on this trip, even considering faking his own death. This year, there really is nothing, perhaps barring near-death, that could stop him from going any sooner than physically possible.

Then, he hears footsteps and a figure emerges from the bedroom. Jiwoong yawns, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Matthew-yah, what are you doing up so early?” he asks.

“I was checking the bags again,” he answers. “I got too excited."

Jiwoong smiles fondly, even when his eyes remain half-closed. “Come back to bed. It’s lonely without you.”

His hair is sticking up in all different directions and he’s slouched against the doorframe, unable to support his full body weight while still half asleep. Matthew thinks he’s absolutely adorable like this.

“Okay, hyung,” he gives in, walking straight into his boyfriend’s arms as Jiwoong squeezes him with as much strength as he can muster this early in the morning and drags him back to bed. Once comfortably back under the covers, wrapped securely in Jiwoong’s arms, he finds that he doesn’t ever want to leave.

Matthew thinks he might have to amend his previous statement—maybe there’s one thing that can stop him.