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Not even five minutes after arriving, Seungcheol gets champagne spilled down the front of his shirt.
Hansol blinks down at his empty glass and Seungcheol's wet shirt like he can't quite fathom how those two things are connected. "Hyung, I think I'm drunk," is what comes out of his mouth instead of an apology.
Seungcheol sighs, peeling off his shirt while Seungkwan hands him a towel, snickering. "Hansol-ah, it's not even eleven yet." And somehow Seungcheol is already shirtless in the middle of Jeonghan's too hot house, smelling of booze. He should've just stayed at home like he planned.
"Minghao hyung's here," Hansol says next; something that doesn't make Seungcheol freeze, actually. He pauses, though. He definitely pauses, for at least a beat or two too long for someone who's claimed, on multiple occasions, to be 'over it'.
Seungkwan darts a worried glance over his shoulder, before grabbing Hansol and dragging him over to the kitchen. "You and your big mouth," he mumbles, as they disappear behind a door, leaving Seungcheol behind.
So, Minghao's here. That's fine, and, hadn't he half expected that, actually? He probed Jeonghan beforehand, asking if he should avoid this particular new year's party, to which Jeonghan replied don't be stupid; a non-answer for Seungcheol to interpret however he wanted. He, of course, thought that given their friendship it meant Jeonghan had done the nice thing and not invited Seungcheol's ex-boyfriend to his party. Jeonghan, of course, meant something else entirely.
Now he can't leave, because his shirt is wet and Seungkwan had taken it with him when he left and he could just throw on his jacket and walk back out, but—
But, well, Minghao is here, and it's been a while.
A year since he's seen him last, to be exact. Jeonghan's last new years party had taken place only three months after Seungcheol and Minghao split, and Minghao, who wasn't supposed to show up then either, rang the doorbell at two in the morning to drive Mingyu home.
Seungcheol can reconstruct the scene from memory. He was sitting on the couch, a beer bottle between his legs, and Joshua was drunk serenading him along with half the room. His hair had gotten long because Minghao used to cut it for him and even thinking about a pair of scissors back then made him feel ill. The doorbell rang and Jeonghan went to answer and Seungcheol turned to look because of the noise, and there was Minghao. Minghao, who, three months after the breakup, looked the same. His hair was still long in the back and short in the front and a weird steel grey, and he was wearing a scarf that he got from his mother on a birthday a couple years back.
Something twisted in Seungcheol's stomach, left a bitter aftertaste in his mouth. Because there Seungcheol was, halfway to hammered with his too long hair and a new tattoo he didn't want to acknowledge most days, while Minghao looked exactly the same. Like none of it made a difference, like breaking up with Seungcheol hadn't changed him in any way.
He didn't look at anybody else in the room, didn't even try to check for Seungcheol. He just stood there, looking soft and beautiful and out of reach, waiting for Mingyu.
They're fucking, Seungcheol thought, as he watched Mingyu stumble his way to the door, falling over and laughing into Minghao's shoulder. Minghao tried to get him to stand properly before giving up with a sigh, letting Mingyu drape himself over his shoulder while he wished Jeonghan a happy new year. Fucking, he thought again, when he caught that fond little look in Minghao's eye, even as he called Mingyu a sloppy drunk and pinched his ear.
The door closed as they turned to walk away.
Joshua had stopped singing. He was looking at Seungcheol like he thought he might break. Seungcheol set his beer down and thought fucking fucking fucking and tried to kiss Joshua as if that would make up for it. Joshua was too nice to knee him in the balls, but not too nice to tell him, "you're being a stupid asshole right now," before passing him off to Jeonghan.
Feeling lousy and heartbroken and a mess of other things impossible to untangle, Seungcheol found a pretty girl he'd never met before and took her home instead. He woke up on the first of January in an apartment he didn't recognise with a stone in his stomach in the shape of regret.
It's been a year, Joshua's long forgiven him for the almost kiss and Jeonghan's throwing yet another party that Minghao has shown up at and things are going to be different this time.
"Hyung!"
Seungkwan walks back into the entryway, this time with Jihoon instead of Hansol. He's tugging Jihoon along by the hand and there's an unusually bright flush to his face. "I put your shirt in the washing machine," Seungkwan informs him.
"Okay." Seungcheol's looking at their joined hands, wondering. "Thanks."
Jihoon catches his eye and cocks an eyebrow, like he's daring Seungcheol to say something. His red cheeks undercut the look by a lot. "Your ex is here," he says. Seungcheol can't tell if Jihoon's warning him or just being a bit of a dick. Possibly both.
"We're just gonna step out for a bit," Seungkwan cuts in, before Seungcheol can threaten to show him the video he has of Jihoon high off anaesthetic when getting a wisdom tooth removed saying no wait I need all my teeth to kiss good Seungkwan won't want me if I kiss bad Seungcheol get them to put it back in.
From what Seungcheol can catch before the door shuts, it doesn't look like Jihoon has any problem at all with his kissing.
Seungcheol tells himself he's happy for them and not a jealous, miserable bastard as he heads further in.
He passes Jeonghan on the way, who looks at his bare chest and doesn't ask anything, and Soonyoung, who looks at his bare chest and then takes off his own shirt in solidarity (or something), before making it to the empty basement. Inside, his lone shirt spins around in the washing machine.
Seungcheol picks through some of the clothes Jeonghan has left down here in a basket, slipping on a t-shirt that ends up being a couple sizes too small.
"If you stretch that out you'll have to buy me a new one."
Seungcheol doesn't freeze. No, he doesn't freeze. He jumps a couple feet in the air, whirling around with wide, skittish eyes, as Minghao descends the last few steps and enters the room.
"Oh no," Seungcheol says, out loud, instead of thinking it.
Even under the crappy old basement lightbulb, Minghao looks beautiful. It's been a year, and his hair is no longer curling up at the base of his neck. It's all black and swoops, handsomely, away from his forehead. His nails are painted red and green. Leftover from Christmas, he assumes.
Minghao laughs softly. Seungcheol's heartbeat skitters, offbeat. "It's fine, I was just joking."
"This is yours?" Seungcheol looks down, and only then notices a familiar logo. He looks back up and Minghao is… staring. He wills away the urge to get shy, to cover himself back up. He hasn't been to the gym in a while, and he's gained something of a holiday stomach. He's gotten soft, post breakup. Minghao's looking at him like he doesn't quite mind it. Like he might like it, even.
"I stayed over one night after dinner and drinks and forgot to take it back," Minghao explains. He looks away too quick, always so good at holding himself back.
Seungcheol winces. A year ago Minghao might not have bothered explaining, a year ago Seungcheol might have misunderstood.
"Do you want it back?"
Minghao leans against the wall, fingers curling up over the edge of his sweater. "No. You can keep wearing it."
It's weird. It's been a year. The last thing they said to each other was during that fight they had. Not the big, explosive one, but the one after that, when they were both tired and a little bit sad and knew it was going to be the last one.
Seungcheol didn't cry even though he wanted to, Minghao was crying even though he didn't want to be.
The very very last thing Minghao said to him was, I love you. Seungcheol thought it was cruel then. Now he thinks there might've been hope there, all along. I love you, he said, and Seungcheol didn't say it back. He remembers the way Minghao smiled, sad and disappointed, before walking away.
"How have you been?" Seungcheol asks.
He hadn't had the courage to ask any of their friends, too scared about the answer he would get. Minghao and Mingyu never did end up fucking, he knows that now. He almost wishes they did, sometimes, just so he could know he isn't the only one doing this whole thing wrong.
"I've been better, lately," Minghao says, instead of okay or fine or good. "I started painting again."
"That's nice," Seungcheol responds, while thinking of that time Minghao tried to paint a portrait of Seungcheol's O face because it was the kind of thing he found romantic and Seungcheol found extremely hot.
Minghao gives him a look like he knows exactly what he's thinking.
"And you?"
"I'm fine," Seungcheol answers, on instinct. The default answer he's been giving whenever anyone else asks the same question. Minghao doesn't look entirely pleased. "Lonely," Seungcheol adds, a touch too honestly, because he doesn't want to fuck this up anymore. "It hasn't been the easiest year for me."
"Oh." Minghao seems surprised, which is definitely a step up from displeased.
"I was a mess those first couple months." Seungcheol just keeps going, now that the gates have been opened. "I got a tattoo," he reveals. Minghao's eyebrows shoot all the way up. "I've been regretting it ever since."
"Can I see?"
"Sure."
Seungcheol pulls up the shirt, showing off an 'x' drawn right over his heart. Minghao gets closer, eyeing the tattoo like he can't quite believe it. He reaches out to touch, only to stop short of actually coming into contact with Seungcheol, his fingers just hovering over the ink. There's a furrow to his brow that Seungcheol can't quite decipher.
Then his hand drifts lower, over his stomach. He wants to touch, Seungcheol can tell, but won't let himself. Seungcheol doesn't know how to encourage him without crossing a line.
"What does it mean?"
Seungcheol covers himself back up, heat creeping up his neck, but Minghao doesn't step away. "I was angsting pretty hard when I got this. I just—I wanted something real, something physical, for the hurt I was going through. It pissed me off that you broke my heart and there wasn't anything to show for it, so I… yeah."
It was meant to be a reminder. Never again, Xu Minghao. Until he woke up one morning, looked at himself in the mirror, and thought it might've instead said Always, Xu Minghao.
"Did I really?"
"Did you really what?"
"Break your heart?"
Seungcheol almost laughs. "Did you think you didn't? That I walked out of that unscathed?"
"I just thought it was what you wanted." Minghao puts some distance between them again, attempting to slink back to his corner. Seungcheol doesn't let him. He crosses the room so they can stay close, so he can watch Minghao's shoulders get stiff the way they always do when he's being pushed.
"There you go again, assuming things about me." Seungcheol closes in, notes the way Minghao's lips twitch, the way his eyelashes tremble.
"Sorry," Minghao breathes. He tries to take another step back but bumps into the wall.
"I never wanted us to end," Seungcheol confesses. Minghao's face cycles through too many emotions to name. "I wanted things to be different, yes. I wanted to stop fighting, I wanted to be smarter about the way I talked about how I felt, but I never actually wanted you to go."
"You said—"
"I know what I said, Minghao."
A year might not have been enough time to fix the part of Seungcheol that's a jealous, spiteful asshole, but it was long enough to have him realise what a colossal mistake it was to let Minghao go.
Some things just have to break before you can try to fix them.
"I'm dating someone," Minghao says.
The floor falls out from under Seungcheol's feet. "What?"
Minghao places a hand on Seungcheol's chest and pushes him back a couple steps. "I wanted things to be different, too. I acted like I did a lot of talking, but I didn't really, not about the important things. I always regretted that, afterwards." He looks genuinely sorry, which is probably the worst thing about this. "Also, I lied, I'm not dating anybody."
"What."
"I'm sorry." Minghao huffs out a laugh, running a hand through his hair. "I just thought it would be easier. We weren't great, the first time around. I wouldn't be able to take it if we blew it all up again. So I thought I'd just lie, leave the party early, and then spend the new year trying to get over you."
"Oh."
"Then I remembered, that's exactly what I tried to do this year, and it didn't work at all." Minghao sighs. "And I have a feeling it's not going to work next year either."
Seungcheol laughs, then grabs one of Minghao's hands before he can second guess it. "You think too much."
"I know."
Minghao leans forward so they can knock their foreheads against each other. He smells like cologne and champagne and everything Seungcheol has ever and will ever want.
The washing machine beeps.
Seungcheol takes a deep breath before pulling away. Minghao lingers close as he takes his shirt and tosses it into the dryer. When he turns back around, Minghao's still there, smiling. Christmas had been so very lonely.
"Did you come down here just to see me?" Seungcheol asks.
Minghao counters with, "did you come to this party just to see me?"
The time for obfuscating is over, he thinks. "I was hoping to," Seungcheol admits.
"Why?" Minghao reaches for his hand this time, threading their fingers together like it's natural, like it's what their hands were made to do. "Last I heard, you hated me and couldn't stand to be in the same room with me."
"I just knew being in the same room with you but not being able to touch you would be torture." It feels like his heart's been set on the same dryer spin cycle, somersaulting behind his chest. "But then one day I checked your Instagram." Minghao shoots him a look. "I was just… curious. I noticed that you unarchived all of our pictures together."
"And that convinced you that I was still hung up on you?"
Seungcheol grins. "The opposite, actually. It stung when I checked right after we broke up and they were all gone, but, I don't know, seeing them all there again made me think you'd really moved on. That you could have those pictures up there now because they didn't hurt to look at anymore. The thought of that scared me."
"Ah." Minghao's fighting back a laugh. "That was just me trying to send a signal. Seungkwan's idea. Still not entirely sure how he talked me into it, but he said holidays are all about reconciling, that people are more open to forgiveness at the end of the year."
"Was he right?" Seungcheol squeezes Minghao's hand. A few minutes to midnight and the world feels brimming with possibility.
Something glitters in Minghao's eyes. "I think so."
They look at each other. Seungcheol with his short hair and tattoo and round stomach, Minghao with his black hair and painted nails and soft eyes. A year isn't very long at all.
Above them, the countdown starts.
3, 2, 1.
Seungcheol welcomes the new year with a kiss.