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When Seungcheol pulls up at Jeonghan's apartment, Jeonghan’s already waiting downstairs. His head is down, focused on his phone. It gives Seungcheol time to ogle him shamelessly. His hair is neatly combed and brushes his shoulders, accentuated by the sharp cuts of his suit. He’s wearing cufflinks because of course he is and is that makeup??  

Seungcheol's going to die before they even make it to the restaurant. Why did he agree to this? 

Jeonghan looks up and a smile spreads across his face as he waves at him. A strangled sound escapes Seungcheol’s lips. Fortunately, the car blocks any noise. He smiles and waves him over, hoping that his face doesn't betray how hot he feels. Subtly, he cranks the air conditioner up with his other hand. 

Jeonghan opens the passenger door and falls into the seat with a loud huff. “God, it's freezing cold in here!”

“Is it?” Seungcheol says innocently. “But I always set this temperature.” 

Jeonghan shrugs. “A bit, but it's okay. At least we won't sweat on our clothes. How do I look, darling?” 

Seungcheol chokes and averts his eyes. “Uh–”

Jeonghan sighs, but when Seungcheol looks back at him, there's a smirk hanging on his lips. He's having the time of his life. “I'm helping you get used to it before the real thing. If you're looking like that from a pet name, how are you going to react when I propose to you?” 

Against his will, images of candlelight and rings and kissing appear in his mind. Seungcheol flushes a deep red as he wills the thoughts away with all his might. He steps on the accelerator lightly and the car starts to move. “Wouldn't that be more realistic?” He grumbles. 

“Hmm…” Jeonghan hums. Seungcheol steals a glance at him and bites back a snort. The serious look on his face is ridiculous. “That's true,” Jeonghan concedes, “Okay, keep up the blushing. And you can stutter, maybe. But only for the proposal. Anything else, keep cool. We're supposed to be together long enough to get married.” 

“Why are you thinking so much about this?” 

“Don't underestimate how much I want free cake.” 

“You just want to trick a bunch of people.”

“...That's true. You know me so well, Cheol.” 

Seungcheol can't hold back his snort this time. He keeps his eyes on the road. “I’ve been friends with you for so long. This is hardly the most ridiculous thing I've played along with.” 

Except that it totally is. He’s been friends with Jeonghan since university, so it's been a good 5 years now. But even faking that Jeonghan's laptop got destroyed by a rabid dog so that he could extend his final paper deadline isn’t as crazy as what he's doing now, and he had to take a picture of Kkuma, the sweetest cutest dog ever, and pretend that she was an aggressive dog that had a primal hatred for electronics. The problem with this is that he's in love with Jeonghan, for months now. So he has no idea why he agreed to pretend to be Jeonghan's – what? Soon to be fiancé? For a free cake? Seungcheol hasn't dared to talk to Jihoon about this yet because he can already predict his response. 

Jeonghan shivers at the corner of his eyes, breaking Seungcheol out of his thoughts. It's an imperceptible motion, and his face is deceptively neutral, but Seungcheol has become an expert in reading Yoon Jeonghan. He quietly turns the air conditioning down. It's not like a frigid environment can freeze the heat off his cheeks anyway. 

Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, but he reaches out and sweeps the dust off his dashboard. Seungcheol knows that it's his way of saying thank you and it warms him from head to toe. 

“We should be close,” Jeonghan says, checking the map. 

“Uh…” Seungcheol squints. “Nonna's kitchen?”

“That's it. Oh great, there's still parking.” 

Thank God, Seungcheol thinks. The restaurant is literally in the middle of nowhere – just one building next to a carpark on a random road. If there wasn't parking available, they'd be screwed. To Seungcheol's surprise, the carpark is almost full. 

“They're popular,” Seungcheol remarks. 

“Duh,” Jeonghan huffs, “I wouldn’t bother putting on all of this if they weren't.” 

“Oh yeah. Are you wearing makeup?” The words leave Seungcheol's mouth before he's aware of them and he curses himself internally, hoping that he sounded curious instead of awed. 

Jeonghan smiles shyly with pleasure. “I did. It's very light, though. You noticed?” 

How could I not is Seungcheol's automatic response. Thankfully, he reels it back in time. “Yes. You look great.” 

“Good, because Seungkwan said I should put more and I said no way and then I had to run from his makeup brushes,” Jeonghan frowns. Seungcheol laughs, picturing Jeonghan's feisty roommate scrambling after Jeonghan past the dining table, war in his eyes and eyeshadow in his hand. He parks the car and kills the engine. 

“Wait,” he says before Jeonghan opens his door. He leaves first and walks to Jeonghan's side of the car, opening the door. “Fiancé to be first.” He prides himself in not stuttering. 

Jeonghan raises an eyebrow with a smirk. “Oh? In case anyone is watching at the door. How clever.” 

“I do try to keep up with you, you know,” Seungcheol says, putting out his hand. 

Jeonghan takes it, interlacing their fingers together. The simple gesture makes Seungcheol's heart skip a beat and he almost fumbles with his car keys when he takes them out to lock the car. “I know,” Jeonghan responds with a wink, “Why do you think that I asked you to do this with me?” 

Seungcheol smiles, hiding how the words sting. Why else would Jeonghan do this with him? He tells himself that he is honoured that Jeonghan chose him in the first place. Giving him the opportunity to pretend. 

They walk to the restaurant hand in hand. The closer they get, the more clearly Seungcheol can see the waitress at the door straightening her back, preparing to greet them. Self-consciousness creeps up his spine. He's suddenly aware of the suit that he's wearing, fancy dress shoes to boot. Black tie to complement Jeonghan’s wine red one. What is he doing? 

“Don’t give up on me now,” Jeonghan whispers into his ear. 

Seungcheol tightens his grip on his hand, self-doubt replaced by determination. “Wasn't planning to.” 

He strides up to the waitress with confidence that he does not feel. “Hello. Reservation for two, under Choi Seungcheol?” 

“Choi Seungcheol…” The waitress checks her tablet. “Ah! Got it. Follow me please.” 

They follow her into the dining hall. It's dim with classical music floating from the speakers. Each table is lit up by a single candle. Most of the dining hall is full with couples enjoying their date. Seungcheol fights back an incredulous laugh. It's seriously like what he had pictured. 

The waitress leads them to their table. It's small and round, draped with a white tablecloth and illuminated by a single candle. There's a small glass of flowers in the centre. It's clearly for dates. Seungcheol sneaks a peek at Jeonghan and blushes. Fortunately, Jeonghan doesn't seem to notice, and pulls the chair for him. 

Seungcheol sits down obediently. “Isn't this a bit much?” 

“I'm planning to propose, darling,” Jeonghan says pointedly, “Nothing is too much.”

“Don't give me spoilers, sweetheart,” Seungcheol shoots back. The widening of Jeonghan's eyes is enough for satisfaction to warm his chest. 

Jeonghan recomposes himself quickly and sits down opposite him. “Get whatever you want. I'll treat, as a thank you for playing along with me.” 

Seungcheol balks when he sees the prices on the menu. “Forget it. It's too expensive. I'll pay.” 

“Cheol…” Jeonghan protests. 

“You can have the cake,” Seungcheol says, scanning through the menu. As expected, it's italian. Seungcheol's not a big fan of italian food. 

“But that's a gift to me.” Seungcheol can hear the pout in Jeonghan's voice. “We'll share it,” Seungcheol reassures him. 

Jeonghan's pout intensifies. “Fine. But I'm buying next time.”

“Next time we're hanging out, or next time we're pulling off another scam?” 

“Hm. Let's see.” 

Seungcheol shoots him a startled look. “Wait, what do you mea–” 

“What are you eyeing?” Jeonghan interrupts. 

Seungcheol frowns at him, but lets it slide. “The scallops, I think.” 

“Ooooh. I want to try the crab. Crab pasta.” 

“Okay.” Seungcheol flags a waiter down, who takes their orders dutifully. 

“Any wine for you, sirs?” The waiter asks, hand poised over his notepad. 

“Please. I'll have white–”

“No.” From across the table, Jeonghan puts his hand over his, effectively cutting him off. “I want you to remember this.” 

Seungcheol's lips part in shock, then he remembers the waiter. Of course. It doesn't stop him from lacing his fingers with Jeonghan's. “Okay,” he concedes. 

The waiter bows and leaves. Jeonghan immediately removes his hand and Seungcheol mourns the loss of warmth. “So tell me,” Seungcheol starts, “What's so good about this cake?” 

“Jisoo brought it back once. Leftovers from his date.”

Seungcheol wrinkles his nose. “Ew.” 

“Yeah, I know,” Jeonghan agrees, “But he basically forced it down my throat, saying that I would like it.” 

“And you did.” 

Jeonghan's eyes light up. “It was so good. The chocolate hazelnut cake. Holy shit. Jisoo told me the price, and I was like holy shit again but for completely different reasons. But then Jisoo said that the couple beside him got it free because the guy proposed to his girlfriend.” 

“So you got this idea.” Seungcheol can almost see the gears in Jeonghan's mind turning on the day that he was with Jisoo. Jisoo too probably. Coming up with some evil plot together. The pair have been unstoppable for years. 

“Yes. I thought of asking Jisoo to go with me, because y'know, he's brilliant, but it wouldn't work. Not only because Jisoo just went with his date, but also he…” Jeonghan pauses, looking for the right word. “Doesn't look like he would be my partner.”

“What does that even mean?” Seungcheol asks amusedly. 

“We look like brothers,” Jeonghan dismisses, “Then I thought of you. And you're perfect.”

Seungcheol's mouth suddenly turns dry. “Wait, like…you think that I could look like I could be your partner?”

“Yeah?” Jeonghan says casually, like it's the easiest thing in the world. Like he didn't just send Seungcheol into another internal screaming fit. “I can't explain it. It just…looks right,” he finishes lamely. 

“Well, how could I doubt the master plan of Yoon Jeonghan?” Seungcheol teases. His voice is slightly hoarse. He takes a sip of his water. 

Jeonghan smiles, self-satisfied, like he always is when Seungcheol praises him. It’s probably Seungcheol's fault that Jeonghan has a slight ego, considering that their friends have asked him to shrink his brain multiple times, but Jeonghan's intelligence deserves to be recognised and praised. Seungcheol can't help it. It's almost like his duty to point it out. 

Their food comes and the meal progresses easily. Seungcheol temporarily forgets about the ruse and it's like any other meal with Jeonghan. He fills Jeonghan in on his life, and even Jihoon’s when Jeonghan asks, even though he has no idea why Jeonghan bothered considering that Jihoon's life has been the same for the past three years. Frankly, Jihoon’s living under a rock. In return, Jeonghan complains about work, about how Seungkwan forces him on hikes, about socialising and slow wifi in his home and basically anything. Seungcheol listens dutifully, nodding when appropriate. 

Eventually, their plates are clean and kept away. “Room for dessert?” Jeonghan asks. 

Seungcheol nods. “It better be worth it.”

Jeonghan smiles. “Trust me.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a satin box. Seungcheol watches him, heart suddenly in his throat. The candlelight flickers across Jeonghan's cheekbones as he struggles to open the ring box, as if he's nervous. He's an amazing actor. Jeonghan finally pops it open to reveal a silver band, glistening in the light, and Seungcheol can't breathe. 

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says, louder than necessary, “I love you. Will you marry me?” 

For a moment, Seungcheol's world narrows down to the ring in Jeonghan's hand. His heart is pounding so hard that he can feel it in his ears. To see this in person when it's only previously been a visual in his dreams…it's absolutely surreal. 

“Darling,” Jeonghan prompts, eyes sharpening, “Don't leave me hanging. Everyone's watching.” 

Suddenly, Seungcheol is aware of the many pairs of eyes on them. It takes immense self-control to not meet their stares. “Yes,” he says loudly, remembering his lines, “I will.” 

Jeonghan's eyes melt into pure happiness, and he takes Seungcheol's hand and slides the ring onto his fourth finger. It's a perfect fit. Seungcheol stares at it, stunned. 

A loud cheer from the neighbouring table startles Seungcheol. Soon, everyone around them is clapping, shooting them smiles. Jeonghan looks around and blushes, as if he wasn't aware that they were there. “Oh God, this is so embarrassing,” he half-whines, “Oh don't. Please.” 

Their waiter materialises by their side, beaming. “Congratulations! Will you like a celebratory cake?” 

Jeonghan gasps. “Really?” 

The waiter nods enthusiastically. He's young, Seungcheol realises. Young enough to be excited over a public proposal. “We have a choice between yuzu orange and chocolate hazelnut. It's on the house! Which would you like?” 

Jeonghan pretends to think. “Oh, I don't know…” 

“You love chocolate hazelnut, don't you? Let's get that,” Seungcheol interjects. He nods at the waiter, who bows and leaves. 

Jeonghan grins, eyes triumphant. “Hell yeah,” he whispers. “Mission success.” 

Seungcheol smiles, Jeonghan's joy infecting him. “You are so silly. We could have just bought it.” 

Jeonghan laughs. He relaxes against his seat with a content sigh. “What’s the fun in that?” 

Seungcheol laughs in response. The ring is cool against his finger. It fits like it was always meant to be there. Seungcheol loves it. “How did you know my ring size?” 

“I have my ways,” Jeonghan says mysteriously. Seungcheol rolls his eyes in response. 

“I like it,” Seungcheol says seriously. He brings the ring closer to the candle, studying it properly. It's simple, which makes it seem even more real. “It looks good.”

Jeonghan mutters something unintelligible. Seungcheol glances at him. “Say again?” 

Jeonghan blinks, slightly flustered. “Oh, nothing. I was talking to himself.” His ears are tinged red. 

The cake comes, a meagre slice completely disproportionate to the amount of effort that they put into this. Jeonghan catches Seungcheol’s look of disbelief. “That's why I wanted it for free,” he explains, reaching for a fork. 

“These restaurants are scamming us,” Seungcheol mutters. But he has to admit that the cake, with its layers of chocolate mousse and sponge and hazelnut praline, looks mouthwatering. He flinches when Jeonghan thrusts his fork in his face. “What–”

“Here,” Jeonghan insists, “Try the first bite.” 

Seungcheol stares at the cake on his fork. “I can feed myself,” he huffs, taking the fork from him. He chews, feeling slightly pressured by Jeonghan's eyes on him. 

It's good. Not as good as he expected after Jeonghan's raving review, but good nonetheless. Was it worth faking a proposal for? Probably not. But would Seungcheol do it again? He silently passes the fork back to Jeonghan, who takes his own bite and grins with delight, eyes curved up in sweet victory. He would do anything for that look on Jeonghan's face. 

“This is so good,” Jeonghan practically moans, “What do you think?” 

“You can have the rest,” Seungcheol says, pushing the plate closer to him. “I'm supposed to be dieting, anyway.” 

“Which is ridiculous,” Jeonghan says sternly, but he continues devouring the cake without protest. “You don't need to diet. How many times have I told you that?” 

“Yeah, but I’ve been filling out lately.” Seungcheol remembers how his stomach looked in the mirror this morning and cringes. 

“Seungcheol, ” Jeonghan bites back, frustrated, and Seungcheol shoots him his best puppy eyes. “I do it for myself, Hannie.” 

Jeonghan makes a noise of discontent. He knows Seungcheol is stubborn, but Jeonghan is equally stubborn. Seungcheol's eating habits have been a point of contention between them for years, with no sign of it being resolved anytime soon. 

“You have something on your mouth,” Seungcheol raises, intended to distract, and it works. Jeonghan purses his lips and wipes them with his napkin. “No, there's still a bit left,” Seungcheol says distractedly, leaning forward and wiping off the stain at the corner of Jeonghan's mouth. In a moment of clarity, he suddenly realises what he's doing and snatches his hand back. “All gone.” His voice is slightly higher pitched than usual. 

A slight flush spreads across Jeonghan's cheeks. He shakes his head and continues digging into his cake. “You don't like it?” 

“It's okay,” Seungcheol admits, “But you want it more than me. So it'll be wasted on me, honestly.” 

Jeonghan shrugs. “Your funeral. I'll get fake married for this all over again.”

“Quieter,” Seungcheol hisses, shooting the neighbouring tables nervous looks. He relaxes when he realises that no one had overheard. “Seriously, I'll just buy it for you next time.” 

“There is no cake sweeter than free cake,” Jeonghan argues. He scoops up the remnants of the cake. “Last bite?” 

“You can have it.”

Jeonghan swallows it down happily. Seungcheol calls for the bill and gives his card without looking at the amount. Ignorance is bliss, after all. 

They head back to his car. It's getting late, but the smug air around Jeonghan translates into a slight bounce in his step. The drive to Jeonghan's apartment is mostly quiet, with them taking the time to recharge on their own. Only when they turn down a familiar road does Jeonghan speak. “You acted really well today. Especially during the proposal. I was impressed.” 

Seungcheol laughs nervously. He wasn't acting, but Jeonghan doesn't have to know that. “Guess I'm coming for your best actor award.” 

“You still remember that?” Jeonghan raises his eyebrows. “That was like, what, year 3 of university?” 

“Seungkwan never lets me forget,” Seungcheol deadpans, quietly relieved about the change in subject.

Jeonghan laughs quietly. “He never lets me forget about it either.” 

“The best–”

“–Hamlet that anyone has ever seen,” Jeonghan finishes, pulling a face. 

Seungcheol pulls up to Jeonghan street and stops the car. Jeonghan steps out gracefully, still looking so perfectly gorgeous. Seungcheol rolls down his window. “Get home safe,” he calls. 

“You too,” Jeonghan responds, and Seungcheol watches him enter the complex longingly. Only when Jeonghan disappears from sight does Seungcheol begin to drive away. 

-

Jihoon towels his hair in the changing room while Seungcheol pulls on a shirt, not bothering with his wet hair. His muscles ache in the most delightful way, showing that he really pushed hard at the gym today. Judging by how Jihoon grimaces when he raises his arms, it's the same for him too. 

“So,” Jihoon starts, voice flat, “You didn't tell me that you got married.”

Seungcheol stares at him, confused, until he follows his stare to the silver band on his fourth finger. Oh . He realised that Jeonghan had forgotten to ask for the ring back since that day, and Seungcheol wasn't in a hurry to give it back to him, either. A part of him believes that the ring was for him considering how perfectly it fit. If so, then there was no harm holding on to it for a little longer. Seungcheol tried wearing the ring on his other fingers, but it didn't fit well, so he resigned himself to keeping it on his fourth finger. So far, he's only been met with visceral disappointment from the grandmother that lives in his apartment complex, since she's been dropping hints about her granddaughter for the past few weeks. 

“It's not a wedding ring. It's a gift from Jeonghan,” Seungcheol explains. 

Jihoon's eyebrows raise. His hands freeze on his towel. “No way,” he says, voice coloured with scepticism. 

Seungcheol realises how the words sound and flushes with embarrassment, rushing to correct him. “No! Not like that. It's…” If there was a time and place to tell Jihoon about whatever he did with Jeonghan, it was definitely not post-shower in the gym changing rooms. “I'll explain over lunch.” 

Lunch comes and is accompanied by an unimpressed Jihoon, eyebrows furrowing further and further as Seungcheol narrates that night's events, forming such a deep crease on his forehead that Seungcheol worries that he will get a headache. For a long, scary moment, he doesn't say anything. Seungcheol takes a bite of his jajangmyeon and waits for the proverbial shoe to drop. 

When it drops, it's quiet, but no less deadly. “What you're telling me is,” Jihoon says, slowly enunciating each word in a way that indicates that he thinks Seungcheol is an absolute idiot, “You agreed to get fake married to Jeonghan for free cake?” 

“I'm not married to him anymore, though,” Seungcheol defends himself, “Because it's fake. Obviously.” 

Jihoon rubs his temple with his fingers. “What are you doing?” 

It's subtle, but his accusatory tone makes Seungcheol steel with anger. “Look, what was I supposed to do? He was obviously going to do it no matter what. Was I supposed to just let him fake marry someone else? He could have asked you next!” 

“I would have refused and told him to buy it himself, like any other rational person would!” Jihoon retorts hotly. 

“Yeah, but this is Jeonghan! He doesn't give up. He would have asked everyone if it came down to it!” Okay, maybe not. But who knows? Seungcheol wasn't going to risk it. 

Jihoon deflates, taking a moody bite of his noodles. “I'm not fighting with you over this.”

“We're not fighting,” Seungcheol protests, forcing a calm breath. Jihoon sighs. “Constructive criticism, then. Ready?”

“Is no an option?” Seungcheol mumbles petulantly. 

Jihoon sighs again. “Look, if anyone else was doing this with Jeonghan, I would judge them, sure, but that's it. With you, it's different. I mean, you're in love with that guy,” he says bluntly, “You're just going to end up wanting more and hurting yourself in the long run.”

Seungcheol stabs his noodles with his chopsticks. “I already want more, though.”

“It'll be worse now that you know what you could have,” Jihoon responds, and Seungcheol hates that he's right. He still dreams of Jeonghan that night, candlelight framing his face and a ring in his hands. When he does, he wakes up aching with longing. 

“It's better to just say no the next time,” Jihoon continues. 

“You think he'd do it again?” Seungcheol asks. 

Jihoon frowns. “He just found a hack to get free food. You think he wouldn’t do it again?”

Touché. Actually, Jeonghan already messaged him about the next place. This time, it's a hotpot. They won't be getting married this time, though. Just Seungcheol, the (fake) boyfriend’s (fake) birthday. 

Seungcheol doesn't dare to tell Jihoon that he's already agreed. Jihoon's probably right about the whole thing, he usually is, but Seungcheol’s in too deep to back out. Jeonghan is counting on him. Instead, he nods. “Okay.” 

“You should probably give the ring back,” Jihoon adds after a moment's hesitation. 

Seungcheol scowls. “Fine,” he growls, more forcefully than necessary, and shovels another bite of noodles into his mouth. 

Jihoon bites his lip. Seungcheol can clearly see the worry in his eyes and some of his annoyance dissipates. Jihoon is just looking out for him like any other good friend would. He's the only one that knows about Seungcheol's feelings for Jeonghan. But the idea of giving the ring back makes Seungcheol's stomach swim with discomfort. Like any other good friend, Jihoon lets him sulk in peace. 

Seungcheol decides that he's sulked enough and asks Jihoon about what music he's working on now and Jihoon brightens, starting on a new music nerd rant. Seungcheol listens attentively, finding himself amazed again by Jihoon's musical talent. His friend is going to be famous one day, he's sure of it. 

He keeps his hand under the table for the rest of the meal, the ring a steady, comforting weight. Since that night, he's only taken it off to shower or when he visits Jeonghan, lest Jeonghan thinks he's weird for wearing a fake wedding band. He wants to enjoy its weight for as long as he can before it's gone. 

-

Before they step into the hotpot restaurant, Seungcheol slides the ring off his finger and passes it to Jeonghan. Jeonghan takes it with barely an indication of surprise, placing it in his pants pocket. “We can use it next time,” Jeonghan says, “Don't let it go to waste.” 

“You can give it to someone else,” Seungcheol suggests, although he hates the thought of it. A part of him already sees the ring as his. 

Jeonghan snorts. “Who would have your exact finger size?” 

A thought occurs to Seungcheol. “Wait, you customised it just for me? How much did that cost?” 

Jeonghan grimaces. “You don't want to know.” 

Seungcheol stares at him in surprise. He's no economics genius, but he's pretty sure that it would have been cheaper for Jeonghan to just buy the cake. Who would have thought Jeonghan would go that far for a ruse? 

It's a chinese hotpot place. Jeonghan explains that it was at the recommendation of Minghao and it was supposedly very authentic. It’s a bit too authentic, Seungcheol realises, considering that the entire menu is in Mandarin and they can’t read a single word. The waitstaff are also clearly Chinese with poor Korean and Seungcheol seriously starts considering pulling out google translate. But the menu is also complete with pictures, so they make educated guesses on what each type of meat could be and order with gestures. 

“How are we going to ask for free food now?” Seungcheol asks, not bothering to lower his volume. 

“I know a little bit of Mandarin. And then we can fill in the gaps with our love and sign language,” Jeonghan says confidently. 

“Again,” Seungcheol sighs, “The cake can’t be that good.” 

“That isn’t our biggest problem right now, darling,” Jeonghan responds when the waitress returns carrying plates of meat, “I think what we thought was lamb is actually pork. And we ordered three plates of it.” 

Seungcheol eyes the sinewy meat. Yep. Definitely pork. He takes a sip of his tea and spits it back into his cup. “This is not tea. Holy shit,” he chokes, “This is oil.” 

Jeonghan peers into his cup, then at the mountain of pork, and meets his gaze. They burst into laughter, hit by the sheer ridiculousness of their situation. 

“What are we doing?” Seungcheol chortles, dipping the pork into the bubbling soup. At least the soup is correct. Small victories. “Who even serves oil in a cup?”

“Oh!” Jeonghan’s eyes widen with realisation. “That’s why she was looking at me funny when I pointed at our cups.” 

“Jeonghan!” Seungcheol whines. Jeonghan smiles sheepishly at him, a mixture of amusement and embarrassment dancing in his eyes. “Your Mandarin sucks and sign language doesn’t work!” 

“There’s still one more card up my sleeves,” Jeonghan replies, smirking at Seungcheol when he shoots him a confused look. He leans in conspiratorially, forcing Seungcheol to bend closer to listen until their faces are inches apart. “Love,” Jeonghan whispers. He cackles when Seungcheol slaps his shoulder with a blush high on his cheeks. 

Despite the mistake with the meat and the lack of tea (they didn’t dare to try to order it again), the food is good. Minghao’s recommendations never disappoint. Although he could have said that they should have brushed up on their Mandarin before coming here. Probably an intentional oversight, that little shit. In revenge, Seungcheol takes a selfie of him and Jeonghan to send to Minghao, ensuring that his threatening look is sufficiently conveyed. 

When they finish their meal, Seungcheol looks at Jeonghan hesitantly. For the life of him, he cannot figure out what they should do next. Jeonghan slides next to him in the booth and slides his hand into his, then calls a waiter over. When the waiter arrives, Jeonghan leans in and kisses Seungcheol’s cheek. The feeling of Jeonghan’s lips lingering on his skin immediately makes Seungcheol’s brain shut down. Jeonghan speaks to the waiter but Seungcheol can barely hear anything besides the ringing in his ears. He’s pretty sure that his face is firetruck red. 

The waiter nods and leaves and Jeonghan turns to him, victorious. “Time to see if we actually get a cake this time.” 

Seungcheol stares at him dazedly, still feeling the ghost of his touch. “Cake?” 

“Yeah. I don’t know what flavour it will be though. My Mandarin is nowhere near that level,” Jeonghan says with a soft laugh. His fringe, a tad too long, falls over his eyes and he brushes it away. He’s beautiful. 

“Will you kiss me again?” Seungcheol blurts out, because his stupid lizard brain is operating in a completely different conversation, stuck in looping Jeonghan’s touch like a broken projector. Jeonghan’s lips part and Seungcheol follows the movement, mouth dry. 

“Oh,” Jeonghan says, slightly higher pitched than usual, probably due to surprise. “Sure. Now?” 

Seungcheol blinks. “Now? Who will see that?”

Jeonghan makes a nervous sound. “Right! Okay, later.” 

The waiter returns, blessedly bearing a cake in his hands. Less blessedly, he also comes with a speaker that blasts “happy birthday” on repeat and colleagues waving glowing LED “happy birthday!” boards. When they start singing, Seungcheol turns red with mortification, and his conversation with Jeonghan is completely forgotten. It is only his dignity as an adult that stops him from burying his face into his hands and sliding under the table. 

Jeonghan, on the other hand, is wearing a shit-eating grin and his phone is out. He’s definitely filming him. “Happy birthday, dear Cheollie,” he sings, and Seungcheol shoots him his best death glare which only makes Jeonghan giggle with delight.

“Did you know that they would do this?” Seungcheol whisper-yells over the music. 

“No,” Jeonghan says honestly, grinning from ear to ear, “But isn’t this spectacular? Look happier, darling, it’s your birthday!”

“Yoon Jeonghan!” Seungcheol growls, but he claps his hands obediently with the music and smiles politely at the staff when the song ends. 

“Happy birthday,” the waiter says in heavily accented Korean, and Seungcheol feels his soul shrivel up and die. He plasters a smile on his face until they leave and he slumps over the table with a loud sigh. “We’ve never doing this again,” he declares.

“Awww, really?” Jeonghan has already grabbed his fork. “I was already thinking that we should come here again for your real birthday.” 

Seungcheol raises his head to glare at him warningly. “You wouldn’t dare–mmph!” Jeonghan takes the opportunity to shove a piece of cake into his mouth, sweetness exploding on his tongue. It’s mango. Not bad. He swallows obediently, although slightly outraged. “You could have choked me!”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” Jeonghan huffs, “Is it good? I haven’t tried yet.”

“It’s good. Why are all these free cakes surprisingly good?” Seungcheol muses. 

“Because they’re free,” Jeonghan emphasises, taking a bite. He licks his lips in appreciation. “Oh, that is good.” 

Jeonghan eats most of the cake on his own, but he offers Seungcheol the last piece, this time refusing Seungcheol’s objections. Seungcheol can recognise from the steely glint in Jeonghan’s eyes that there’s no way he can wriggle out of this one, so he eats it obediently. He sucks the fork for good measure, cleaning off the cream because if he’s going to have cheat food, he’s going to make sure it was worth it. A strangled sound catches Seungcheol’s attention and he realises that Jeonghan is gaping at him. “Do I have something on my face?” He asks, suddenly self-conscious. 

“No,” Jeonghan chokes, “It’s nothing. Put the fork down.” 

Seungcheol does. It’s licked completely clean. If there’s a life skill that having an older brother gives you, it’s definitely savouring whatever morsel you can eat. Jeonghan’s cheeks are pink, likely from the residual heat of the hotpot. 

Despite Seungcheol’s protests, Jeonghan pays for the meal this time. “I’m not letting you sugar daddy me,” Jeonghan says firmly, pushing his hand aside and thrusting his card unceremoniously towards the poor waiter. 

Seungcheol sulks, reluctantly putting his card back into his wallet. “I’m not sugar-daddying you.” 

“Yeah, because you’re not significantly older and you’re not fucking me, but semantics,” Jeonghan sighs dramatically, ignoring how Seungcheol chokes at the thought. “You already drove me here. Plus, I promise that you can pay next time.” 

“Okay, because you promised,” Seungcheol grumbles. To his credit, Jeonghan never breaks his promises. The waiter returns his card and they leave with full bellies and the satisfaction of free food. 

As usual, Seungcheol drives Jeonghan back to his apartment. This time, Jeonghan doesn’t exit the car immediately. He sizes Seungcheol up contemplatively. Seungcheol lets him, wondering what on earth he plans to do this time. He doesn’t have to wonder for long, because Jeonghan leans in and presses his lips to Seungcheol’s cheek, more firmly this time. Again, Seungcheol feels his mind go blank. 

Jeonghan pulls back with a smile. “You asked, remember? I’ll send you the video later.” 

With that, he leaves. Seungcheol gapes at him, frozen in his car. It only later occurs to him that he had asked more than an hour ago. 

-

Seungcheol leans over Jisoo’s shoulder, spoon in hand. Jisoo doesn’t bother looking at him, focused on stirring the seaweed soup. Seungcheol calculates his chances and inches his spoon closer. 

Jisoo slaps his hand away and Seungcheol shoots him a wounded look. “No,” Jisoo scowls, “It’s not done.” 

“Please?” Seungcheol tries. 

Jisoo rolls his eyes. He ignores him and reaches out for a packet of cheese instead. Seungcheol feels his heart fly into his throat when Jisoo rips it open. “Are you putting cheese in seaweed soup?” he squawks. 

“He’s putting what?” Jihoon yells from the living room.

Seungcheol snatches the packet, squinting at the unfamiliar English words. “Mozza..rella cheese,” he reads, “What the fuck is this? You’re not putting American things into a traditional Korean soup!”

“I know it sounds weird, but give it a try,” Jisoo cajoles. He looks confident and Seungcheol is almost tricked into believing him, but he regains rationality at the last moment. “No way,” he says firmly, “This is the soup of Korean grandmas. If my grandma knew that you were putting cheese into seaweed soup, she’d be turning in her grave.” 

Jisoo sighs. “Jeonghan!” he calls towards the living room, where Jeonghan is lounging on the couch with Jihoon. Since Seungcheol’s brother is out on a date with his girlfriend (Seungcheol is counting down the days until he gets married and moves out), he decided to invite them over. The first thing that Jisoo said was that he was hungry and he made a beeline for Seungcheol’s fridge. “Cheese in seaweed soup? Seungcheol doesn’t trust me!” 

“It’s good, darling!” Jeonghan yells back. “I know it sounds weird, but Joshuji forced it down my throat once and it was passable!” 

“I didn’t force it down,” Jisoo snorts, just as Seungcheol calls, “Fine, but only because you’re incredibly picky!” He passes the cheese back to Jisoo, who immediately dumps it into the pot. Seungcheol cringes.

“You’re such a sucker,” Jisoo cackles, “The Jeonghan trick still works.”

“What Jeonghan trick?” Seungcheol hisses. 

“Well not really a trick but more of a strategy,” Jisoo amends, “A green light from Jeonghan is an automatic green light from you.”

“That’s not true,” Seungcheol protests, “The other day, he wanted to go bungee jumping as a group.” 

Jisoo stirs the soup, looking unimpressed. “I didn’t include life threatening situations.” 

“So you agree that it was life threatening!” Seungcheol feels vindicated and betrayed at the same time, considering that Jisoo had backed Jeonghan up enthusiastically. Turns out he was afraid all along. Bastard. 

“Yeah, but watching you jump would be funnier,” Jisoo explains. He gently pushes Seungcheol away. “Now shoo, I can’t focus with you breathing down my neck.” 

Seungcheol huffs. He gives Jisoo’s soup one last suspicious glance, the sight of melted cheese over seaweed strands making his stomach churn uncomfortably, before he joins Jihoon and Jeonghan in the living room. Jeonghan is fiddling with the remote while Jihoon is curled up in the corner of the sofa. 

“Just in time, darling,” Jeonghan says, face blooming with relief when he enters, “I can’t turn your TV on.” 

Seungcheol leans over him, resting his chin on his shoulder. It’s definitely not necessary and his lower back screams in protest, but he does it anyway. He presses a button on the remote and the screen lights up on the news channel that he was watching last night. “The remote’s a bit weird. We bought it recently. It’s modern, but it’s confusing everyone honestly.” 

“Thanks,” Jeonghan says with a grateful smile, and Seungcheol gets off to join him on the sofa, squeezing between him and Jihoon. Jihoon hums softly, a clear indication that he’s thinking about something, but when Seungcheol glances at him his eyes are unreadable. He just simply says, “Oh, I watch this channel too.” 

“Let’s not watch the news,” Jeonghan dismisses, and flicks the channel to a reality channel. Seungcheol rarely watches reality TV. He’s only exposed to it when he’s with Jeonghan. To his surprise, Jihoon remarks, “Love is Blind? The last episode sucked .” 

“What?” Jeonghan and Seungcheol exclaim together – Jeonghan in excitement, Seungcheol in shock. 

Jeonghan recovers first. “Really? Actually, I think I was quite indifferent towards them, but then Seungkwan started yelling at the screen when anyone made a bad choice and now I'm kind of invested.” He smiles like he's being held hostage. Considering that he chose the channel on purpose, Seungcheol suspects that he enjoys the show more than he lets on. 

“That's herd mentality,” Jihoon says seriously. Despite his words, his attention is redirected to the screen, and when one of the contestants is chosen, he and Jeonghan gasp in unison. 

Seungcheol tries to watch with them but it's too boring. He’s somewhat disappointed that he unexpectedly lost Jihoon to the reality TV watchers, but at least he still has Jisoo. 

“They're watching Love is Blind,” Seungcheol informs him when he slips into the kitchen. 

“What? I want to watch that!” Jisoo groans. 

Or not. 

“I can take over your soup, you can go watch,” Seungcheol suggests hopefully, itching for something to do. 

“Nah, I'm done.” Jisoo turns off the stove and ladles two bowls of soup. “Try?” 

Seungcheol eyes the cheese with apprehension, but he obediently takes a bite. 

“How is it?”

“Weird.” 

“Can’t have it all, I guess,” Jisoo complains, “You're my first dissenter.” 

“Who has tried?”

“Hansol, Jeonghan and Mingyu.” 

Hansol, who eats olive oil with ice cream. Jeonghan, who likes weird things. And Mingyu, who would eat almost anything without complaint. “Yeah, that's why.”

“I'll finish it, though,” Seungcheol adds, noticing Jisoo’s slightly crestfallen expression.

Jisoo shoots him a small, grateful smile as he reaches for his own bowl of soup. Seungcheol feels a sense of foreboding creep down his spine. It's not that he does not enjoy Jisoo's company – far from that, actually – but it's strange that Jisoo is still hanging out with him instead of joining Jeonghan and Jihoon to watch the show. His feeling is explained when Jisoo gives him a private, knowing look, lips slightly curled at the corners. “So, at the darling stage, huh?”

Seungcheol frowns. “I don't know what you mean.” 

Jisoo rolls his eyes. “You and Jeonghan? It’s good, darling,” he mimics Jeonghan’s tone, then switches back to his usual one, decidedly unimpressed. “Who says that? Sounds like a tacky 50s sitcom.” 

“Oh.” Seungcheol’s cheeks heat up. He didn’t pay it particular notice, but now that Jisoo mentions it, he can see why it seems strange to outsiders. “It’s not that…you know that Jeonghan and I have been pretending to be together at restaurants to get free food right?”

Jisoo’s jaw hits the floor. There’s a long pause before he swivels his head to stare at the direction of the living room, like he’s trying to burn Jeonghan with his stare. “No, but go on,” he says slowly. 

Seungcheol sends a mental apology to Jeonghan. “He didn’t tell you?” 

“I know we talked about getting free food before, but…” Jisoo sucks in a breath. “That genius,” he says, voice awed. 

“I…he said that you came up with it together,” Seungcheol says uncomfortably. Jisoo looks at him like he’s seeing him in a completely new light. Did he just fuck up immeasurably? 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jisoo dismisses. He leans closer. “So, about the darling thing…”

“It’s not that serious,” Seungcheol responds, because it really isn’t, “He calls me that when we do our free food fake dating…thing. I guess it’s become a habit to call me that outside too.” 

“And what do you think about that?” Jisoo asks carefully. Seungcheol feels the air between them temporarily still, like he’s forgotten to draw breath. For some reason, his answer feels incredibly important. 

He lowers his voice and speaks the truth from the depths of his heart. “I like it.” 

Jisoo observes him, and whatever he sees makes him break into a large grin. He pats Seungcheol’s arm. “Seungcheol,” he smirks, “You dog .” 

Seungcheol flushes. The positive reaction is welcome considering that Jisoo is probably Jeonghan’s closest friend. Maybe even closer than Seungcheol. Seungcheol was honestly jealous of Jisoo when he was younger, until he interacted with him and realised that not only was Jisoo straight, he was also Jeonghan’s partner-in-crime. He’s been terrified of the pair when they’re together since. 

It’s freeing that someone else besides Jihoon knows, and someone so close to Jeonghan to boot. It makes everything more real. “What do you think I should do?” Seungcheol asks genuinely. 

Jisoo’s response is immediate. “Call him sweetheart.” 

He laughs when Seungcheol slaps his arm, but refuses to say anything more, which is out of character for Jisoo. Maybe that really is Jisoo’s answer. 

-

Jihoon stays behind after Jisoo and Jeonghan leave. It’s unusual because Jihoon hates being away from home for too long. Even more unusual, the first thing Jihoon says is – “I’m sorry.” 

He’s sitting on the sofa, completely sincere. He pats the space beside him and Seungcheol joins him, weirded out. “For what?”

“Jeonghan likes you,” Jihoon says simply. “I didn't realise because I haven't seen both of you together for so long, but now that I can see it, it's obvious.”

Shock numbs Seungcheol's brain as he gapes at Jihoon. “See what?” he shrills, in a voice that he doesn't recognise. 

Jihoon fiddles with his fingers, clearly uncomfortable with the subject. Seungcheol waits impatiently, then blurts out, “If this is about the fact that he calls me darling, as I told Jisoo, it's not in that way!” 

Jihoon clears his throat. His entire being is radiating awkwardness. “It's not…that,” he responds, words stilted, “It's…he looks at you differently. He treats you differently. I'm also pretty sure that he knew how to use your remote and he just asked you to help because he wanted your attention.” Jihoon cringes as he says this. 

Seungcheol frowns at him doubtfully, shoving down the hope that is rising treacherously in his chest. “Are you sure? How have I never noticed anything?” 

“Because we've been operating on the false presumption that he doesn't like you back. Which was our mistake. Confirmation bias, human's greatest enemy,” Jihoon's voice rises with enthusiasm, “But stripping away that presumption. Going into it raw–” Seungcheol raises an eyebrow. Jihoon shoots him a dirty look. “Raw,” he repeats, “He likes you. I don't expect you to be able to see this because you're too deep into your false presumption as some sort of coping mechanism for falling in love with your best friend–” Did Jihoon just read him? “–but I would never lie to you to bring your hopes up, and I think he likes you.” 

Seeing Jihoon's convinced expression, hope spills out from the corner of his heart and crawls up his chest. “Wow,” Seungcheol manages. “Wow.”

Jihoon leans into the cushions, biting his lip. “I'm sorry that I discouraged you from the fake marriage thing. I was wro–oh FUCK.” Jihoon suddenly gasps, slapping his hand over his mouth with wide eyes. 

“What?” When Jihoon continues to gape at him, Seungcheol grabs him and shakes him by his shoulders. “Hello? You’re scaring me, Jihoon!” 

“Oh no. Oh no. I think that…he's the one that suggested the fake marriage, right?”

Seungcheol nods, confused. 

“Oh no,” Jihoon whispers, somehow turning paler than he already is. “Oh, God, I'm so sorry. I think that that was him trying to make a move on you–God. I just cockblocked you, holy shit,” he groans. “Seungcheol, I’m so sorry.” 

Seungcheol watches him slide his hands over his face, wracked with genuine guilt, and is suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to laugh. He can't hold back and a small giggle slips out. Jihoon looks at him in utter disbelief. “Did you just…laugh?” 

“No, shit, I’m sorry.” Another giggle slips out and Seungcheol covers his mouth to prevent any more offending noises from escaping. Jihoon's face becomes even more pinched, mouth tight with an impending explosion. Seungcheol hastens to stop him. “I just…then it's a good thing that I've still been going on fake dates with him, huh?” Seungcheol’s face splits into a grin, unable to hold back. With Jihoon's analysis, he now looks at every meal he shared with Jeonghan in a different light. Jeonghan's pretty flushes. Jeonghan kissing his cheek. Jeonghan saying that he “looked like” his partner…Seungcheol’s stomach bubbles with happiness. How did he not realise? 

“Oh,” Jihoon says, stunned, then colour rushes back to his face and he grins so hard that his eyes crinkle at the corners.

“Oh,” Seungcheol agrees, the bubbly feeling spreading across his body. 

“Good for you,” Jihoon says sincerely, rising to leave, “You've been pining for so long that it's starting to become embarrassing.”

Seungcheol accompanies him to the door. He strategically waits until Jihoon has put on his shoes and turns his back before he teases, “When are you going to do something about Soonyoung?” 

Jihoon whips around, eyes murderous, and Seungcheol hastily pulls his door shut before Jihoon can shuck off his shoes and throw it at his head. He doesn't care that Jihoon can definitely hear him laughing through the door. 

-

On the way to the next fake-date with Jeonghan, Seungcheol’s stomach is filled with butterflies. He feels like there's electricity thrumming under his skin, coming alight with a buzz whenever Jeonghan leans a bit too close. 

On the other hand, Jeonghan is appearing normal. He even asked Seungcheol if he was sick because Seungcheol, embarrassingly, jumped at his touch on his shoulder. Seungcheol was beginning to doubt Jihoon's theory, but when they are queuing hand-in-hand to enter the restaurant, Jeonghan's thumb absently traces circles on Seungcheol’s hand and Seungcheol’s heart flutters. 

The restaurant is Chinese again, but decidedly not a hotpot and not for a birthday because Seungcheol doesn't put it past Jeonghan to capitalise on past experience. To his relief, the waiter receiving them looks Korean, so at least a language barrier won't be a problem this time. 

The waiter flashes them a smile that has to be practised, but his eyes scrunch up and it seems to light up his entire face. Seungcheol finds himself automatically smiling in return. “Hello! Welcome to– Jeonghan?” His chirp trails off into a delighted gasp. 

Jeonghan drops Seungcheol's hand like a hot potato. “Oh no.” 

“Oh no?” The waiter – Chan, Seungcheol reads on his nametag – looks positively gleeful. “Who would have thought you would come to my grandmother's restaurant? It must be fate!” He turns to Seungcheol. “Is this your boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” Seungcheol says warily, “How do you know Jeonghan?”

“We volunteer at the same place.”

“Volunteer…?” Seungcheol turns to Jeonghan, surprised. “You never told me that you volunteer. With who?” 

“Underprivileged kids,” Chan volunteers, “We read to them and basically run a weekend care program, honestly.”

Seungcheol's heart melts. He feels like he's fallen in love with Jeonghan all over again. Jeonghan’s always loved children, and the idea that he shares his warmth and love with other people's children…”Hannie,” he breathes, a gush of emotion rushing through him. 

Jeonghan blushes all the way down to his neck, averting his eyes. His shyness is adorable. “Don't look at me like that, it's embarrassing,” he mumbles, “That's why I didn't want to tell you.” 

A customer behind them clears their throat. Seungcheol feels a small bubble of irritation, but Chan’s eyes widen guiltily and he springs forward. “Follow me,” he says quickly, leading them to their seats. 

After they sit down, Chan hovers for a moment beside them. “Sorry,” he pipes up, looking at Seungcheol, “I didn’t catch your name.” 

Seungcheol sticks out his hand. “Seungcheol.” 

“Chan,” Chan responds, shaking his hand firmly with a smile. “You’re really handsome, Seungcheol,” he says earnestly, “Jeonghan, is that why you’ve been hiding him all this time?” 

If his plan is to flatter Seungcheol, it’s working. “Yeah, Hannie, why have you been hiding me all this time?” he teases. 

“Shut up,” Jeonghan retorts without any real bite, “Go away, Chan.” 

Chan shoots him a playful look. “Okay, I won’t interrupt your date any longer. Have fun!” He turns and leaves. 

Jeonghan takes his phone out to scan for the menu. “That brat…” he grouses. “We're in trouble. I stole his lunch the other day and he's never let me forget it since. I know that look on his face. He's been waiting for his revenge.” 

Seungcheol pauses. “You what?” 

“Accidentally stole,” Jeonghan grumbles, “He doesn’t label his food! It was kimbap! I thought it was expired food that someone forgot in the fridge, so I figured, free game.”

“You ate it thinking it was expired?” Years of friendship, and Jeonghan still makes his head spin.

“I don't waste food. But turns out it was his food and since then, he's been plotting,” Jeonghan says ominously. 

Seungcheol thinks back to Chan’s bright smile, free from malice. “I don't think so,” he says doubtfully. 

Jeonghan grimaces. “Trust me.” He changes the topic. “What are you going to get?” 

“Whatever Chan recommends,” Seungcheol says, because he can. 

The exasperated look on Jeonghan's face is worth it. “Yeah, your funeral. Don't come crying to me if he recommends devil's chilli or something.”

“Do you want to not do the free food thing?” Seungcheol asks carefully. “Since you know Chan and all. We don't have to if you don't want to.” 

“No, I want to,” Jeonghan dismisses immediately, and Seungcheol’s heart skips a beat at the implications. “Nothing stands between me and free food.” 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Seungcheol says absently, scrolling through the menu on his phone. He flickers his eyes to Jeonghan and is pleased to see that the apples of Jeonghan's cheeks are pink.

Another waiter comes and takes their order. When he leaves, Jeonghan takes a breath. Seungcheol can hear how it shakes and he instinctively tenses in response. “Cheol,” Jeonghan says softly, “How long are we going to do this for?” 

“This?” Seungcheol echoes. 

“You know…” Jeonghan waves between them. “This fake dating for free food thing.” 

“Whenever you want to stop,” Seungcheol says automatically, feeling like he's one step behind in the conversation. Like there's something important that he's missing.

Jeonghan winces. “What if I want to stop after this?” 

Seungcheol's stomach plummets. Between Jeonghan's behaviour and Jihoon's theory, this is the last thing that he expected Jeonghan to say. Has he been reading everything wrong all along? 

The longer that Seungcheol stares at Jeonghan in shock, the more visibly uncomfortable that Jeonghan grows. “It’s just…you know, seeing Chan…this was really fun, but it’s just…fun, you know? When we see people that we know and tell them that we're dating, it becomes too…too…”

The unfamiliar sight of Jeonghan fumbling for his words makes something bitter lodge in Seungcheol's chest. “Real?” 

“Yeah.” Sadness tinges Jeonghan's voice. “I don't want to fuck up your relationship chances, Seungcheol. What if people think that you're off the market because of our little shenanigan? And for what? Free cake?”

“My relationship chances?” Seungcheol looks at him, genuinely baffled. “Who said that I want to be in a relationship?” 

“Maybe not now, but you should always keep the option open, you know?” 

“Jeonghan.” Seungcheol reaches across the table and takes Jeonghan's hand in his. Jeonghan tenses but doesn't pull away. “The only person that I want to be in a relationship with is you.”

Jeonghan stills. “What?” 

“I want to be in a relationship with you,” Seungcheol repeats. 

“I heard you,” Jeonghan says faintly, looking like he can't believe his ears. “Where…since when…?” 

“Months ago. One day, I just knew,” Seungcheol confesses. Jeonghan's hands tremble in his, and fear coils deep in Seungcheol’s stomach. He feels so nervous that he might be sick. With trepidation, he asks, “How about you?” 

Just as Jeonghan is about to respond, the waiter arrives and Jeonghan immediately yanks his hand back and clamps his mouth shut. Seungcheol would laugh at his stricken expression if he himself wasn't alight with nerves. 

Jeonghan silently passes him his cutlery and starts eating. Seungcheol follows, recognising a clear dismissal when he sees one. An awkward silence descends upon them like a weighted blanket. When Seungcheol finally musters the courage to say something, Jeonghan beats him to it with a mild, “So, how's work?”, effectively cutting off any possibility of continuing their conversation. 

A pit of disappointment forms in Seungcheol's stomach. He doesn't know what to make of Jeonghan's response – or lack thereof – but it's not promising. A part of him that remains hopeful is the only thing that holds back the sense of crushing defeat and slight panic. If Jeonghan doesn’t feel the same, he possibly ruined their friendship by confessing.

Don't think about it, Seungcheol tells himself. If Jeonghan wants to pretend that nothing happened, for now, he'll play along. 

However, the tension between them unmistakably thickens as lunch progresses. Despite his best attempts at acting nonchalant, Seungcheol can see how Jeonghan's forehead is tense, which makes him stiffen in response. Seungcheol curses their past selves who decided to go to a Chinese restaurant, which caused them to share dishes between them, and every time Seungcheol reaches for the food at the same time as Jeonghan, Jeonghan instantly draws back and Seungcheol's ears burn. 

It becomes a herculean effort to finish his meal, but Seungcheol manages somehow. He's so tense, however, that when Chan appears by their side with a camera in hand, Seungcheol flinches. 

“Oh, sorry,” Chan chimes apologetically, “Did I scare you?” 

“No.” Seungcheol glances at Jeonghan hesitantly. Usually, this would be the moment where they would announce their birthday slash anniversary slash engagement, but he doesn't know if Jeonghan would be okay with it now. Jeonghan wipes his mouth with a piece of tissue, avoiding eye contact. Seungcheol fights the urge to yell. 

Chan waves the camera in front of them, drawing Seungcheol's attention. “Well,” he says cheerfully, “Would you like to take a couple photo?”

Jeonghan looks at him, stone-faced. “What.” 

Chan's smile doesn't fade. “Couple photo! It's a polaroid camera, so you guys can keep the picture! Part of a new thing that our restaurant is pushing.” 

“Why does this sound like something you made up to embarrass me,” Jeonghan deadpans. 

Chan's eyes widen. “I would never.” 

“Chan, I can see your name on the camera,” Jeonghan says flatly. That's when Seungcheol notices a small “lee chan” embossed at the corner of the camera. He blinks, both impressed and outraged. 

“We're low on budget,” Chan says easily, but he deflates a little. “If you don't want to, you don't have to.” 

“Yeah, tha–” 

“Let's do it,” Seungcheol interrupts. Jeonghan gawks at him. Every micro-expression on his face is screaming do you not remember what I just said about him???  

Seungcheol ignores him. Let me show you how real this is to me. 

Chan's face lights up, and Seungcheol almost feels bad for turning this into a weird passive aggressive message to Jeonghan. He doesn't have time to dwell on it, however, because Chan is gesturing to them to pull their chairs together. After a moment’s contemplation, Seungcheol throws his arm around the back of Jeonghan's chair. Jeonghan stiffens. Seungcheol intentionally lets his fingertips brush against his back.  

“Three, two, one, smile!” 

For a moment, Seungcheol is blinded by the flash of Chan's camera. He blinks away the black spots dancing in his vision, disoriented, and Chan's sheepish expression comes into view. “Oops!” A picture emerges from the camera and he shakes it aggressively, impatiently bouncing from foot to foot until an image forms. 

Seungcheol reaches out to take it, but Chan draws back with a frown. “Could we take another one? Closer this time? You guys look like you're being held hostage.” 

“We are being held hostage,” Jeonghan points out. 

Chan pouts. “But still!” 

“Okay, okay,” Seungcheol says lightly, turning to Jeonghan. “How do we…?” 

Jeonghan sulks. “Don't forget that this is your fault.” 

Seungcheol shrugs. “How about I put my arm around your waist?” 

“Fine,” Jeonghan says shortly, and Seungcheol wraps his arm around his side, pulling him closer. Jeonghan follows, body tense. 

“Slightly better,” Chan calls. “Ready?” 

“Turn off the flash this time!” Jeonghan warns. 

Chan flashes a thumbs up. “Ready?” Seungcheol flashes a thumbs up back. 

“Three…”

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan says in Seungcheol’s ear, and he’s so close that Seungcheol can feel his breath ghosting over him. The urgency in his voice makes him turn his head. “What?” 

“Two…” 

As expected, Jeonghan’s face is scarily close to his. There’s an intense look in his eyes. 

“One…”

“Fuck it,” Jeonghan mutters, more to himself, and kisses him. 

Seungcheol’s mind whitens out. He instinctively closes his eyes and hears the telltale sound of a shutter clicking. Maybe Chan is cheering, he can’t really tell, because Jeonghan’s lips are moving against his and he tastes like the sweet honey chicken that they ate and Seungcheol realises that he’s been frozen for too long. Jeonghan pulls back, face flushed, and Seungcheol hooks his hand on the back of his neck and pulls him in again.

He kisses Jeonghan like it’s all he’s ever wanted, and the dizzying joy rushing through his veins is nothing compared to how sweet Jeonghan tastes, how soft his lips are against his, how the soft hairs on the back of his neck brushes against Seungcheol’s fingers. He’s surrounded by the light scent that Jeonghan always wears, and with his eyes closed, he’s all that he can feel. 

Jeonghan gently pushes him back for air and Seungcheol reluctantly opens his eyes. If he thought that Jeonghan was flushed before, it is nothing compared to how pink Jeonghan is now. Jeonghan blushes with his entire body, Seungcheol realises in delight. Then it dawns on him that he’s the reason for Jeonghan’s blush, because they kissed, and his head spins. 

“Holy shit, marriage!” Chan whoops, and Jeonghan’s blush darkens. “Chan,” he hisses. He glances around, and the moment when he realises that everyone in the restaurant is watching them is strikingly clear because he makes a small, mortified sound and sinks into his seat. On the other hand, Seungcheol honestly couldn’t care less. His face is fixed with a permanent grin, mirroring Chan’s as the latter passes the photos to him. 

“Thank you,” Seungcheol says sincerely, hoping that his happiness can be conveyed through the simple words. Impossibly, Chan’s grin widens. “No problem, Seungcheol! Do come back again.” 

Seungcheol pockets the photos. “We definitely will. Hannie, you ready to go?” 

“Let me die,” Jeonghan mumbles. Seungcheol laughs, loud and carefree, before he pulls Jeonghan to his feet. Jeonghan follows him out of the door, decidedly avoiding eye contact with everyone. 

Seungcheol stops from in front of his car. “So…?” he prompts hopefully. 

Jeonghan groans. “I like you, you idiot.” He buries his face into his hands. “Why did I just kiss you in front of fifty people?” 

Seungcheol honest to god giggles, heart light and soaring. “Because you like me,” he says in wonder, savouring the words on his tongue. He half-expects Jeonghan to take it back and say that it was a joke, but Jeonghan only groans louder and his ears are red and Seungcheol is so in love. “Oh, and not just fifty people,” he adds as an afterthought, “Chan too.” 

Jeonghan yanks the car door open. “God, get me out of here.” 

Seungcheol slips into the driver’s seat. He’s about to drive off when he remembers something. “Oh. I like you too, by the way. If it isn’t obvious.” 

“That’s crazy,” Jeonghan mumbles, “Absolutely crazy. How could you like me?” 

“Seriously?” Seungcheol can’t believe his ears. “Because you’re gorgeous and funny and smart and kind and just…everything?” 

“ Seungcheol,” Jeonghan whines, adorably flustered, and Seungcheol chuckles to himself and starts to roll out of the carpark. He’s the one that can’t believe that this is real. 

On the drive back to Jeonghan’s apartment, his conversation with Jihoon flickers in Seungcheol’s memory. “Was the fake-dating thing you trying to make a move on me?” 

“Who–?” Jeonghan gasps, startled. “Was it Jisoo?” 

Seungcheol’s heart skips a beat. His lips twitch upwards into a smile. “Jihoon, actually.” 

The horrified look on Jeonghan’s face is comical, and Seungcheol bursts out laughing. “It’s okay,” he chortles, “I’m flattered.”

“You didn’t get the hint,” Jeonghan sighs. “I thought that you weren’t interested in me after all and I felt so stupid.” 

“Hannie, if we’re making this a competition, need I remind you that I’ve liked you since months ago?”

Jeonghan’s response is hushed but sincere. “For me, it’s been a year.” 

“Fuck,” Seungcheol marvels. At the corner of his eyes, he can see how Jeonghan flusteredly looks out of the window. “If I wasn't driving right now, I’d kiss you.”

A blush spreads across Jeonghan’s cheeks. 

-

This time, Seungcheol follows Jeonghan back to his apartment. Seungkwan is lounging on the sofa, head snapping up when they open the door. Judging by the shit-eating grin that immediately appears on his face, Seungcheol can guess what he’s going to say next. 

“Congratulations for getting out of one-sided-but-not-really pining zone!” Seungkwan crows. 

“Who are you talking to?” Seungcheol asks, taking off his shoes. 

“Both of you,” Seungkwan says smugly. 

“How did you know?” Jeonghan asks. It’s a rhetorical question, and when Seungkwan answers with “Chan”, Jeonghan just sighs like he already knew.

At the same time, Seungcheol’s phone pings. 

Jihoon: Congratulations

He groans. “Why does everyone know?”

“Because it’s important news!” Seungkwan gasps, affronted. “You guys were driving Jisoo crazy.” 

“Jisoo–” Seungcheol’s choke is interrupted by Jeonghan grabbing his hand and pulling him to his room. Seungcheol stumbles after him, Seungkwan’s borderline perverted comments ringing in his ears. 

Jeonghan closes the door and fumbles in his drawer. Seungcheol’s heart stops. Surely, it’s too soon–

When Jeonghan pulls out a familiar box, Seungcheol’s heart restarts, beating erratically out of rhythm. Jeonghan opens it to reveal his ring still cushioned inside, shining silver under the light. “You should keep this,” Jeonghan says, “I bought it for you.” 

“Thank you.” Seungcheol cradles the box in his hands, immediately slipping the ring back on. Its familiar weight feels like home. “I’ll buy yours someday,” Seungcheol says determinedly. 

Jeonghan smiles, sweet and fond. “I’d like that.” 

“Oh!” Seungcheol pulls the photos from Chan out of his pocket and spreads them on Jeonghan’s bed. He can tell why Chan asked for a retake – in the first photo, Jeonghan is squinting from the flash, momentarily blinded, while Seungcheol’s casual pose only serves to make him look more awkward. Seungcheol’s mouth parts with surprise when he sees the second photo. It’s a funny feeling to see himself from an outsider’s eyes – Jeonghan’s mouth on his, his own eyes tightly shut – but warmth also grows at the pit of his stomach at the sight of Jeonghan so openly claiming him as his. 

Judging by how Jeonghan’s eyes are fixed to the photo, he’s thinking the same thing. “Jeonghan,” Seungcheol calls, and he turns to face him with a small smile on his lips. Jeonghan is always lovely but he’s never been more lovely than now, Seungcheol thinks, as he leans in and pecks his lips. 

Jeonghan makes an unsatisfied sound and pulls him in, pressing his mouth firmly against his. Seungcheol’s lips part with a contented sigh and Jeonghan’s tongue runs against his bottom lip, exploring but greedy. Seungcheol leans into him, and when they part, he rests his forehead against Jeonghan’s. “Be mine?”

Jeonghan takes his hand in his, running his finger against the silver band on Seungcheol’s finger. He raises his hand and presses a kiss to the metal, and Seungcheol represses a shiver.

“I’ve always been yours.”