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He’d never felt so warm before.
Little hands grasping at the scarf tucked around his neck, big comfy boots snug around his feet. The jacket sutured around his body, being pulled taut by the boy in front of him. Big, gentle eyes and furrowed brows.
“Hyung,” Chanhee whispers softly, watching as Jacob fiddles with the buttons on his jacket. “Jacob…it’s alright. I can do it.”
The boy shakes his head furiously, determined to finish the task. Chanhee lets him for a moment before reaching out and putting his hands over Jacob’s. He gives him an impossibly sweet smile.
“Save that energy for your snowman.”
Jacob’s eyes light up and he gasps, stepping back. “You’re right! I can’t let you win again.”
Chanhee’s middle school self can’t contain the flowers that burst within his chest, sprouting with every laugh that falls from Jacob’s lips.
Cold isn’t cold when Bae Jacob is there. And home isn’t home when he’s gone.
☃️
“Chanhee? You alright?”
Younghoon’s voice shakes him from the swirl of thoughts plaguing his mind. Chanhee snaps his eyes up and gives his best friend a loose nod, flour cascading off his nose. He hears the jingling of bells at the front of his bakery while Younghoon stares at him.
“I’m…fine.”
Younghoon slowly nods, going back to kneading the mountain of flour in front of him.
Truthfully, he’s not fine. He hasn’t been fine.
Sure, he owns a successful bakery with his best friend in his hometown. And sure he has everything he needs in his adult life. Choi Chanhee is happy, by all means. Or at least, he should be.
If his boyfriend of three years hadn’t broken his heart a month ago, then the smile wouldn’t be gone from his features. He could be rolling dough with a ring on his finger, or decorating cupcakes with that familiar fuzzy feeling of love in his chest. It aches instead, his pies a little less vibrant and his cakes a little less sweet.
Younghoon gives him a sympathetic smile, half-aware of Chanhee’s dreadful thoughts. Chanhee washes the flour off his hands as he glances at the calendar haphazardly tacked up to the kitchen walls. December has never felt so dull before, staring back at him with the memories of a better time. The first snowfall is always his favorite, but days after his boyfriend dumped him, the beginnings of snow made the breakup sour. His eyes trace the dates, scribbled with all kinds of orders and shipments until it locks on one event in particular.
December 6th. Tomorrow.
He swallows, hands curling into fists.
Jacob comes into town.
It should be a pleasant thought, one that makes him bounce with joy and smile until his cheeks ache. And in the past years, it has been. Jacob has seen all of Chanhee. Every milestone, every birthday, every graduation, every crisis. He’s flown home to hold him until he’s familiar again and given him enough motivation to reach the stars.
Jacob left for Canada before Chanhee could tell him how he truly felt.
He can still remember the last time they shared the same jacket, the same cup of cocoa, the same bed. He recalls watching the plane leave, a tear-stricken 14-year old with a bundle of unspoken feelings burning within his chest.
“I love you Jacob,” he’d whispered, face buried within Jacob’s chest.
“I love you more.”
High school made it easy to conceal the feelings, college even more. He could join every club on campus and talk to anyone who’d give him the time of day. He’d message Jacob when he could and ask him about Canada— then tease him to hide how badly he missed him. And when Jacob came home for Christmas, they’d hold their annual snowman-building competition like they always had. And Chanhee would always win.
“Chanhee,” Younghoon’s voice is beside him again. He places a gentle hand on Chanhee’s tense shoulders. “You can go home if you want.”
“But the cake—”
“I got it.”
Chanhee gives him a look, opening his mouth to fight back but the words fall short. The younger takes a deep breath and falls against Younghoon in a light hug.
“Thank you,” he whispers before stripping off his apron and heading home.
It’s not like the breakup doesn’t hurt.
Chanhee knew that Yesung had meant to tell him something months ago. He’d expected something else, he’d thought it would be a promise and not a parting. Their relationship was strained, he knew this much was true. But he’d believed in it, nonetheless.
When Chanhee was a kid, he’d imagined love to be as simple as it was with Jacob. Unspoken kindness, soft touches, sweet words, endless moments of happiness. Yesung fell short of all of these, but he couldn’t do anything else but settle at the ripe age of 26. He had a career and a degree— he needed a relationship.
He takes a deep sigh and watches as a single snowflake flutters outside his window. First snowfall, millionth heartbreak.
He takes down the polaroid of Yesung that still hangs above his desk, folding the material and tossing it in the trash. He’ll delete the photos later, too lethargic to let the sadness consume him whole. He crawls into bed after shutting the blinds, tucking himself in with tears brimming at his eyes.
Tomorrow he’ll wake up and see the boy he wishes he never lost.
And then he’ll have to come to terms with the feelings he never got rid of.
☃️
Chanhee’s chest collapses at the sight.
Jacob is beautiful.
He’s grown into all his features, boyish and charming, sculpted and handsome. There’s a smile on his face that has never lost its warmth, cozy and sweet. When he’d gone to veterinary school, Chanhee had laughed and teased him about his fear of nearly half of the exotic animals. But his teasing fell short the moment he realized not even an animal could resist Jacob’s gentle charm. A natural with kids, animals, and people— an all rounder, a vessel of love.
He’s wearing a large puffer jacket with a worn scarf tucked underneath his chin, big chunky boots on his feet. His hair is a darker shade of brunette this time around, grown out from the last time he dyed it. There’s a rosiness on his cheeks from the cold, little remnants of snow sliding off his nose. Chanhee’s chest flowers with something tender and melancholic.
“Hyung…” His voice is small, a little raspy from his nap. It takes less than a few seconds for Jacob to engulf him in a hug. The comfort is overwhelming, the equivalent to a hot cup of tea on a rainy day or a heated blanket on a stormy night. Chanhee nuzzles into Jacob’s chest, fighting the urge to release all his emotions in one go. Jacob hugs him back impossibly tight.
“I heard about you and Yesung,” The Canadian gently whispers, causing Chanhee’s shoulders to tense up. It’s not like he was hiding it from Jacob, he simply wasn’t ready to tell him yet. He pulls away, peering into Jacob’s eyes with a sorrowful look. Jacob brushes the bangs out of his face, reminiscent of their time as children.
“I didn’t want to tell you,” Chanhee admits truthfully, fighting the pink on his cheeks from the subtle physical affection. He looks at the ground and sighs. “I didn’t want you to be worried.”
“Nonsense,” Jacob says, pulling Chanhee back in for another hug. “I always want to be updated about you. Are you okay?” He pets through Chanhee’s hair like he used to. The younger melts into the touches, tears welling in his eyes. He’s not okay, but for reasons he cannot yet admit.
“Mm,” he says, voice muffled in Jacob’s jacket. They pull away after a few minutes, Chanhee immediately swiping away the tears that fall freely and pulling Jacob’s suitcase into his spare guest room before Jacob notices anything awry. “Younghoon will be happy to see you.”
Jacob laughs, peeling off his layers and neatly hanging them by the door. “I’m sure he will. Did he make my favorite cookies?”
“Of course. He wouldn’t miss you coming home for the world.”
Jacob laughs again, melodious and dreamy. Chanhee wishes he could hear it every day of his life. He takes a peek at the guest bedroom, ready for Jacob’s stay year round. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t tailored specifically for him. There’s a small winter-themed teddy bear at the foot of the bed, a gift from Jacob five years prior. He sighs, remembering the kiss he planted on it before Jacob’s flight.
"You still have that?” Jacob appears from behind, spooking Chanhee half to death. He flips around, face to face.
“Y-yes!” Chanhee stutters, thrown off from the sudden closeness. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Jacob cocks his head and giggles. “Cute."
Chanhee doesn’t get to respond, watching as Jacob heads back to the kitchen area. He momentarily clutches his heart, trying to calm the violent rhythm. He has to keep it together, he has to. Bae Jacob is off limits, way too far out of his reach. He composes himself and takes a deep breath.
“You ready for our competition?” Jacob asks, leaning against the counter.
“You can’t possibly believe you’ll win this time.”
Jacob shrugs, the rosiness fading from his cheeks as the heater kicks in. “It’s a new year, no? I’ll get you this time.”
Chanhee rolls his eyes, stationing himself right across from Jacob. “The last time you won, we were 8. The neighbors always chose mine after that year.” He smirks, though it's lighthearted. Jacob raises an eyebrow.
“How do I know you weren’t cheating?”
Chanhee gasps, pointing at his chest. “Me? Cheating?”
They share a hearty laugh, one that feels nostalgic. The room becomes quiet for a few minutes, sounds of wind blowing through the trees outside. Jacob looks out the window and smiles. “I really miss you, Chanhee.”
The sadness takes over again. Chanhee’s heart folds inwards upon itself. “I miss you too,” he says softly, wondering if Jacob will truly understand the extent of these words. If they hadn’t drifted apart so drastically, maybe he would.
“Saturday…is still our day for snowmen, right?” Jacob says after a few moments of silence. Chanhee shakes himself out of it and enthusiastically nods.
“Of course. We can’t skip it.”
It’s what I look forward to every year, he thinks. But he’ll never tell.
Jacob gives him a warm smile, enough to send Chanhee’s heart on a run again. “I can’t wait.”
☃️
“Are you still cold?”
Chanhee’s nose is bright red and raw from sneezing. He haphazardly pulls his gloves off and throws them on the counter, outstretching his frozen fingers. He jumps at the feeling of Jacob gently taking his hands and blowing hot air onto them. His eyes are furrowed in concentration, little chest exhaling breaths with fervor. A light blush dusts over the younger’s cheeks.
“Hyung…”
Jacob doesn’t listen, instead beginning to rub his hands against Chanhee’s to create heat. It tickles, and Chanhee holds back a laugh. “Hyung…we’re inside now. It’s okay.”
“But my Chanhee is cold.”
He doesn’t quite know what to say to this, far too flustered to mutter any real sentences. He lets Jacob continue to warm his hands, working tirelessly. He drags Chanhee to his bedroom, fetching a blanket and throwing it over his shoulders.
“There. Better?”
Chanhee blinks, heart ramming against his chest. He nods. “Better.”
“Wait here, mom made some hot chocolate.”
Chanhee pulls the blanket around his shivering body, waiting patiently before Jacob darts back into the room with two cups of steaming hot chocolate. He gently places one in Chanhee’s hand, settling in right next to him on the bed.
“Thank you.”
“Mm. You have to be warm to win the competition, don’t you?”
☃️
Chanhee’s mouth is dry.
He doesn’t remember when he dozed off to sleep. He glances towards the clock and reads the time. 3 AM. He groans into his pillow, flipping over onto his stomach and squeezing his eyes shut. Then he hears it.
It’s a guitar. Soft and sweet, a gentle melody. It’s by the hands of his Jacob— he would know this anywhere. It’s a familiar song, one that hasn’t been played since they were kids. He bolts up out of bed and stumbles down the hallway with his heart in his throat.
Jacob is dressed in an oversized pair of pajamas, comfy and cute. Chanhee wants to capture this moment forever, holding the memory in his heart and replaying it whenever he’s sad. The Canadian is softly humming along, fingers working effortlessly against the strings. And in these seconds, Chanhee realizes so desperately what he wishes for.
“Jacob,” Chanhee’s voice is unsteady, dropping the honorific as he slides into the chair across from his childhood best friend. He feels the chills run down his spine as Jacob looks at him with wide eyes.
“Chanhee? Why aren’t you asleep—” his words are lost the moment he watches the tears cascade down Chanhee’s cheeks. In one fell swoop, he puts the guitar to the side and pulls Chanhee into a tight hug. “Chanhee?” He whispers breathlessly.
“I’m alright,” Chanhee responds, though it’s a lie. Falling into Jacob’s arms is the easiest thing he’s done in months. But he wishes Jacob didn’t have to see him like this.
“You’re not,” Jacob says, threading fingers through the younger’s hair. “Do you want to talk about it?” He tightens his grip with a sigh. “I know we haven’t been as close these days but you have to know that I love you.”
Chanhee pulls back at the sound of these words, choking on his own sobs. He wipes away his tears and hiccups. “I can’t tell you all of it.”
“That’s alright.”
Chanhee hiccups again. Jacob’s endless understanding is almost frustrating. “I don’t think I was happy with my ex, Jacob. But I’m not happy that it ended, either,” he confesses, cautiously wording his sentences. It’s not what he’s upset about, but it’s all that will come out.
I was in love with you, Jacob. He was nothing like you, Jacob. You remind me of all the things I wish I had, Jacob. I wish I had told you, Jacob.
“I have…a lot of regrets,” Chanhee continues, throwing his arms around Jacob’s neck. His breath hitches when he feels Jacob gently pull him onto his lap so he can cry comfortably. He remembers the last time they were in this position, the week before Jacob left for good.
“Regrets?”
“There’s a lot of things…I wish I told… people ,” Chanhee says, stopping himself from telling the truth.
There’s so many things I need to tell you.
“I’m pathetic. You just got here.”
“No,” Jacob says breathlessly, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears streaking down Chanhee’s barren face. “You’re not pathetic. At one point in time, we always needed each other like this, right?”
Chanhee sniffs. “Right.”
“And maybe I don’t know everything that’s wrong right now, but I’m here to listen.”
You were always so perfect.
“Thank you,” is all Chanhee can muster, calming himself with deep breaths as he focuses on the warmth of Jacob’s body.
They stay like this for 30 minutes or so, listening to the windchimes on the front porch and sounds of rain falling against the roof.
Tomorrow will be a snow day, perfect for snowmen.
And tomorrow is another day of holding things in.
☃️
“Hyung…” Chanhee looks at his boyfriend with hope, staring at his folded hands and unreadable expression. Yesung is sitting across from him, eyes trained on the ground. “Yesung…?”
It’s midnight, and his boyfriend has fought his way into the apartment with a certain degree of frustration. They argued the week before— and Chanhee is half sure they’re going to kiss and make up. But the other half of him knows the truth.
“Chanhee.”
“I’m sorry.”
He always says it first.
“I know you are.”
The words sink into his chest like a knife. Yesung is always so cold to him.
“We’ll be okay, we always are,” Chanhee whispers, though he doesn’t quite believe the words that fall from his lips.
“Dragging it on. This is getting old.”
“Yesung. What do you want from this?”
His boyfriend sighs, peering at the window and watching a rogue moth zip by. Chanhee doesn’t quite remember the last time he said he loved him.
“I don’t think there is a ‘this’ anymore.”
It hurts, but he should have known how this would end. Yesung never learned how to let him down gently. The tender love that Chanhee so longed for— a dream crushed by the hands of the man that used to hold him.
“Good luck with the bakery, Chanhee.”
☃️
Younghoon looks at Jacob’s snowman with a smirk.
“Do you do terrible on purpose?”
Jacob glares, crossing his arms with a huff. “You don’t understand artistry like I do, Younghoonie.”
“I beg to differ.”
“I…think it's cute?” Chanhee pipes up, booping the carrot nose of Jacob’s silly snowman. It’s not cute, he’s lying.
“What’s with the square head?” Younghoon asks, narrowing his eyes. “Our Chanhee’s is much cuter, you know.”
In fact, it always is. Chanhee’s snowman has all kinds of hello kitty accessories stuck on it, frozen solid by the temperature. It’s overly pink and smiling back at the two of them. No matter what, he always takes the throne.
“The voting sheet is at Chanhee’s grandma’s this time,” Younghoon says, rolling his eyes. “We’re too old for this, by the way. All the kids have degrees now.”
“So?! I know Sangyeon hyung will vote for me!” Chanhee blurts out. Sangyeon will vote for him— if he’s bribed.
“Not if I get to him first!” Jacob points and laughs. Chanhee gives him a playful glare.
The events of the day would be more enjoyable if the two had already addressed the night before. Chanhee remembers Jacob bringing him to bed and tucking him in— pressing a kiss to his forehead like he’d done a decade prior. It took everything in him not to reach out and beg Jacob to stay beside him the entire night. So he cried himself to sleep instead.
Chanhee channeled all his energy into the snowman. Unnecessarily intricate and sparkling with all kinds of trinkets. Younghoon is right. The kids are grown, and the only people this matters to is him and Jacob. But he likes it that way.
“When does voting end?” Jacob asks, raising a brow.
“Midnight, like always.”
Jacob scrunches his face. “No fair. You don’t give people enough time.”
Younghoon puts his hands up in defense. “Hey, it’s been like this for years. You made the rules!” Jacob crosses his arms with a dramatic sigh.
“ Chanhee made the rules,” Jacob corrects, throwing a glance at the younger. It’s meant to be playful but it makes Chanhee feel small, hating the way Jacob’s eyes feel on him. He sighs and takes a step back, snapping a photo of the two snowmen to add to his photo album later. 2024. And some things never change.
The three share a laugh before heading back inside.
Midnight rolls around slower with tension in the air. Chanhee refuses eye contact every time Jacob slides past him. Younghoon is their glue, obliviously rambling while the two keep an awkward distance. And by the time he leaves Chanhee’s apartment, the two friends still haven’t said a word. There’s uncomfortable silence as Chanhee takes a batch of cookies out of the oven.
“Let me help you,” Jacob bounds over, gently putting Chanhee aside and sliding on oven mitts. “You must be tired.” He looks at the younger for a moment— trailing his eyes over Chanhee’s figure, ever so gently reaching out to pat his shoulder. Chanhee flinches, avoiding contact. He wishes he didn’t.
“I’m a baker, hyung. It’s fine.” The words come out sharper than he hoped. Regret immediately floods his system once he watches the hurt wash over Jacob’s features. He gulps and takes a step back, staring at the ground. Jacob silently places the rack of cookies on the stove.
“Chanhee.” His voice is stern, serious. Chanhee doesn’t meet his eyes. “Chanhee, please . Something else is wrong and you won’t tell me.”
“I…can’t do that.”
Jacob takes a step forward, loosely bracketing Chanhee against the kitchen counter. “I hate to see you like this, you know. It hurts me, too.”
The proximity is heating Chanhee’s cheeks, buried feelings flooding back into his system as his childhood best friend stares at him with desperate eyes. He can’t keep living with the idea that everything he dreams of is out of his grasp, he can’t keep living without closure.
“It’s wrong. It’s too late for any of these…things.”
“ What things?”
Chanhee takes a deep breath and presses his palms flat against Jacob’s chest, gently pushing him away. “Maybe if you hadn’t moved, things would be different.”
“What would be different?”
Jacob doesn’t budge from where he’s been pushed. His chest heaves up and down, eyes wide with anticipation.
“Us.”
“In what way?”
“You don’t…know?”
“Chanhee, stop speaking in ciphers.”
Then it all hits him again— tears, hot and angry, sad and repressed. Chanhee wipes them as quickly as they come. “I wish you never left. I wish we would have ended up together.”
Jacob looks as if all the air has been punched out of his lungs. His mouth falls open at the confession, his back pressed against the opposite counter. He stutters upon his words.
“W-what?”
“I hated you for so long when you left,” Chanhee continues, hiccuping. “I was going to tell you. It was going to tell you everything.” He turns his back and presses his hands against the counter. “Sure, I didn’t want to lose my best friend. But christ Jacob, I wished you had been more than just that.”
He feels Jacob gently tug on his jacket from behind, prompting him to turn back around. There are tears brimming Jacob’s eyes, too. He takes a step into Chanhee’s space.
“Keep…going.”
“Having you here reminds me of all the things I tried to forget. I wasn’t even crying over my ex— I was crying over the fact that I settled for him over you. I was crying because I wish I had just been honest with myself. I wish I would have told you.”
“You’re telling me now.”
“But it’s too late, isn’t it? We’re nearing 30, Jacob. I have a job, you have a job. You don’t even live here anymore. These things that I feel are juvenile. I’m not a kid anymore.”
Jacob reaches out, splaying his fingers on Chanhee’s warmed cheeks. “You’re saying you love me?”
Chanhee falls to pieces once more, leaning into Jacob’s hand with fervor. “I’m saying that I’ve loved you for years .” He watches as a stray tear slides down the side of Jacob’s hand.
And unexpectedly, Jacob smiles. He brushes the back of his hand against Chanhee’s cheeks as his smile gets wider and wider. “Feelings aren’t juvenile, my Chanhee. Especially when they’re reciprocated.”
Chanhee’s eyes widen. “Hyung… what? ”
“Sit down,” Jacob takes Chanhee’s hand and leads him to the couch, situating himself right across. “There’s a lot of things I have to tell you, too.”
Chanhee doesn’t say anything, tears still streaking down his cheeks.
“Do you remember our first snowman competition?”
Chanhee nods.
“You lost. And then you cried so hard I told the entire neighborhood to never vote for me again,” he chuckles to himself. “Do you really think I’ve been building square snowmen because I think they’re artistic?”
Chanhee blinks.
“I told myself that I didn’t deserve to breathe if I ever made you cry again.” He pauses for a moment, seemingly pondering. “And do you remember when you’d come over to watch horror movies for Halloween? I hate horror movies, Chanhee. But I wanted to be brave for you.”
Chanhee covers his face with his hands and cries into them, losing the power to hold his emotions back.
“And when I left, I cried so hard my mom had to tell your mom to make sure we kept in touch.” He gently laughs, prying Chanhee’s hands away from his face. “What I’m saying, Chanhee. Is that I wish I had told you, too. That I loved you. And that I still do.”
“Still…?” Chanhee sniffs, looking down at their hands.
“Still.” He sighs, a little crestfallen. “In fact, I was going to tell you the month you got into a relationship with Yesung.”
Chanhee doesn’t even know what to say to this one, the statement is so painful it’s almost ridiculous. So he leaps against Jacob’s chest instead, bunching his fists within the fabric. Jacob hugs him back immediately, repeating the actions of last night and pulling him against his body. He places a kiss atop his head before Chanhee pulls back, eyes flickering down to Jacob’s lips.
“Go ahead,” Jacob laughs. “Lord knows the last time we kissed it was without experience.”
Chanhee’s face goes bright red. “Don’t tell me you remember that.”
Jacob tips Chanhee’s chin up. “How could I forget,” he whispers, and then kisses him.
He tastes like home-baked cookies and cakes during the holidays— he tastes like everything Chanhee wants and more. They melt into each other, like frosting on fresh cupcakes or hot cocoa bombs in warm milk. Cozy, happy, homey .
And when they pull away, Jacob whispers something into Chanhee’s ear.
“By the way, my snowman won this year.”
☃️
“Hyung?” Chanhee croaks, rolling over on his side to trace the features of Jacob’s face. They’d fallen asleep after watching a Hallmark movie, nestled together with cups of hot cocoa on the bedside table.
Chanhee counts his lashes like he used to, whispering the numbers to himself while Jacob shifts in his sleep. Moments later, his eyes flutter open.
“Hm?”
Chanhee blinks, pulling back with a gasp. Jacob laughs and snakes his hand around Chanhee’s waist, pulling the younger’s head upon his chest. They used to laugh like this— recounting their days after school. Nothing is more comfortable than the feeling of Jacob against him.
“Don’t go all quiet on me now. You called for me,” Jacob says, fingers raking through Chanhee’s hair. The younger is so irrevocably in love he doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he mewls into the touches instead.
“I’m shy again.”
Jacob cups Chanhee’s cheeks and squeezes them, following this with a kiss. He leans up to subtly deepen it, sighing with content as Chanhee straddles himself over Jacob’s hips. “There you go,” Jacob coos, pulling away and laying his head back down on the pillow. “You called?”
Chanhee blushes, hands splayed flat against Jacob’s chest as he fights the urge to lean down and capture his lips again. “I’m just curious.”
“About?”
“Why I never…noticed the things that you did for me.”
Jacob laughs and purses his lips. “My Chanhee was always so oblivious. I could have given you the world with a bow on it and you would have asked who it was for.” He shakes his head and places his hands on Chanhee’s hips. “I pen-paled you every year, didn’t I? A text wasn’t enough to say I love you. I had to write it out.”
Chanhee gently scratches at Jacob’s skin like a cat, the embarrassment seeping in. “I didn’t think you meant that any more than platonically.”
“I meant it both ways. I love you and I cherish you as my friend. But I also want to kiss you. You didn’t get that from the heart stickers on the envelopes?” He laughs again. “Or the gifted sweaters with tailored tags that read ‘ My Chanhee?”
Chanhee sinks down, burying his face into the crook of Jacob’s neck. “Oh my god.”
Jacob gently runs his fingers up the sides of Chanhee’s ribs, eliciting small giggles. “And you went off and dated some asshole, anyway.”
Chanhee looks up, narrowing his eyes. “How’d you know he was an asshole?”
“Younghoon is terrible at keeping secrets.”
They share a laugh, one that ends with Chanhee fitting himself against Jacob’s body like a puzzle piece. The older pulls the blankets over them and leaves a flurry of kisses atop Chanhee’s head. “Timing was never in our favor, I’ll admit that. But I never doubted that you’d eventually come around.”
Chanhee leaves lazy kisses upon Jacob’s lips. “I didn’t realize my dream was shared.”
“You didn’t realize much of anything, did you?” Jacob teases. Chanhee playfully glares but is immediately distracted by the dizzying feeling of Jacob’s hand under his shirt, comfortably placed at the base of his spine.
“By the way…what about Canada?” Chanhee asks, though he dreads the answer. Jacob drags his nails across Chanhee’s back.
“I won’t ask you to leave here. But I don’t see why we couldn’t make it work.”
“I’d go with you if I could.”
Jacob smiles, kissing Chanhee’s cheek. “We’ve got lots of things to work out, Chanhee. What’s a little distance gonna hurt?”
“You’re really serious?”
Another kiss. “Very.”
And Chanhee knows that Jacob is right— they’ll somehow always find their way back to one another. He’s seamless to love, easy to miss and impossible to forget. He reminds himself that this is what it means to never settle for less.
“Maybe we’ll build a snowman in Canada next year.”
Jacob squeezes him tightly, pressing a long kiss to his lips.
“And I’ll win that one, too.”
☃️
“Do you think we’ll be friends when we’re older?” Chanhee’s adolescent voice is wondrous and full of hope. Jacob is lying right beside him on the grass, their hands intertwined.
“We’ll be much more than that.”