Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Choi Seungcheol was, in every sense, perfection.A successful CEO of his father’s company, earned not by privilege but through relentless hard work, a cozy and inviting apartment, a face sculpted like a masterpiece, a body that seemed chiseled by the gods, and a personality so kind and radiant that it left everyone in awe. He was flawless not just in the eyes of the world but in the heart of Yoon Jeonghan, who could scarcely believe that this perfect man was his boyfriend, the love of his life.

Yet, what made Seungcheol truly perfect in Jeonghan's eyes wasn’t his accomplishments or his appearance. It was his love. The way Seungcheol loved Jeonghan was unapologetically loud, deeply tender, and openly vulnerable. It was a kind of love that seemed too expansive to be contained in one lifetime, a love that Jeonghan cherished more than anything else in the world. For Jeonghan, Seungcheol wasn’t just perfect; he was perfection itself.

And yet, in complete contrast, Jeonghan often saw himself as the opposite. An orphan who’d never finished school, he had spent his teenage years in a garage, fixing vehicles to scrape together a living. He bought a beat-up motorcycle with his earnings, riding it through the nights and  racing for money a gamble he almost always won. Education had seemed like a distant luxury, something meant for people with stable lives and loving families. Love, too, had been a foreign concept. After all, as people often said, love was something you first learned from your parents, the ones who taught you how to love and be loved. But for Jeonghan, there had been no parents, no lessons in love, no place to belong.

That was what 20-year-old Jeonghan had believed. But 26-year-old Jeonghan knew better. Now, he knew love. Now, love was Choi Seungcheol. Love was the dimpled smile that lit up his darkest days, the warm touch that reminded him he was wanted, and the steady heart that beat for him and him alone. If someone asked Jeonghan to define love, his answer would be simple: "Choi Seungcheol." Because Yoon Jeonghan had been born to love Choi Seungcheol, and every breath he took was an ode to that love.

Of course, his friends often teased him about his sappy devotion. Seungkwan, Mingyu, Joshua, and Soonyoung would roll their eyes and laugh, telling him to tone it down. But there was always a knowing look in their eyes, a silent acknowledgment that Jeonghan and Seungcheol’s love was something rare, something extraordinary. And Jeonghan knew it too. Despite all his flaws and imperfections, Seungcheol loved him unconditionally, and that love was a miracle Jeonghan never stopped marveling at.

This evening, Jeonghan was riding his motorcycle, a far newer and better model than the one he’d scrimped to buy at 17. An extra helmet hung from his arm as he made his way to pick up Seungcheol from work. It was a routine they had established, one born out of Jeonghan’s insecurity about not being able to do enough for Seungcheol. When he had voiced this insecurity, Seungcheol had only smiled, his dimples deepening as he said, “Then drop me off and pick me up every day. I’m too tired to drive anyway.”

Jeonghan had hesitated at first. Someone like Seungcheol, with his impeccable suits and polished image, riding to work on a motorcycle? It seemed unfitting. But Seungcheol, ever playful, had rolled his eyes and said, “Why does it matter? All of me is yours anyway. Unless…” He had furrowed his brows in mock offense. “Unless you’re gatekeeping your bike rides from me?”

Jeonghan had laughed, pulling Seungcheol into his arms on the couch where they had been watching one of Seungcheol’s favorite dramas. Looking at the man who was his everything, Jeonghan had kissed him breathless, the love in his heart overflowing. “Ofcourse not, all of me is yours and only yours too, love.” he had teased, and Seungcheol, biting his lip to hide his smile, had whispered, “You just called me ‘love.’”

“And what’s wrong with that?” Jeonghan had asked, only to have Seungcheol kiss his cheek and reply softly, “Nothing. I love you so much.”

That was Choi Seungcheol, declaring and showing his love every hour, every minute, every second of the day. And though Jeonghan had once struggled to understand or return that love, he had learned. Slowly but surely, he had learned that just as Seungcheol breathed to love him, he existed to love Seungcheol. If he could, he would have ripped his heart from his chest and placed it in Seungcheol’s hands, letting the rhythmic lub-dub of its beats sing of his devotion.

As Jeonghan pulled up to Seungcheol’s office, his eyes immediately found the man waiting outside, his bag slung over one shoulder and that dimpled smile on his face. That smile—God, that smile never failed to make Jeonghan’s heart race. Stopping in front of him, Jeonghan pushed up his helmet’s visor, his eyes crinkling with a smile that Seungcheol, even without seeing the rest of his face, could always recognize. Jeonghan’s eyes, once dull and lifeless, now shone with warmth and love—a love that existed solely for Seungcheol.

“How was your day?” Seungcheol asked, his voice as soothing as a favorite song.

Jeonghan, despite the soreness in his body from a long day at the garage, grinned. “It’s great now that I’ve seen you.”

Seungcheol shook his head, chuckling at the cheesiness. “You’re unbelievable.”

“But you love it,” Jeonghan shot back, handing Seungcheol his jacket and ensuring his helmet was securely fastened. Seungcheol climbed onto the bike, wrapping his arms tightly around Jeonghan’s torso and resting his head on Jeonghan’s shoulder.

Jeonghan started the engine, a smile tugging at his lips. With Seungcheol holding him close, he felt like the happiest man alive. As the city lights blurred around them, Jeonghan couldn’t help but think that no matter how imperfect his life might seem, with Seungcheol by his side, it was nothing short of perfect.

---

Going home and showering together had become something more than a simple routine it was their therapy. A quiet, intimate ritual where they washed away the burdens of the day, the exhaustion and the frustrations, all the weight. Seungcheol had explained it to Jeonghan once, when Jeonghan had asked, Why do we shower together every day? He had smiled, that soft, affectionate smile that always made Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat, and said, “It’s to wash off all the tiredness. Not just the dirt, but the tiredness of the day. So we can start fresh for each other.”

At first, Jeonghan didn’t quite understand. But now, as Seungcheol lathered shampoo in his hair and massaged it gently, he got it. Every drop of water that cascaded down his body felt like a release, a cleansing of the day’s worries. And when the roles were reversed, when it was his turn to work the shampoo through Seungcheol’s dark hair, he felt the same peace wash over him. It wasn’t just about the physical act of cleaning—they were washing away their worlds and coming together in that space, in that moment, free from everything but each other.

The evening always followed a familiar pattern: Jeonghan, without fail, would cook dinner. Not because Seungcheol was a bad cook, oh, no, Seungcheol had never been bad at anything. But they had both been terrible cooks in their earlier days, fumbling over ingredients and burning more than they managed to cook. That was until Seungcheol had quietly gone behind Jeonghan’s back, asking Mingyu to teach him how to cook.

When Jeonghan found out, a gentle warmth bloomed in his chest. Mingyu had told him with a teasing grin one evening, “Your boyfriend’s been learning how to cook just for you, you know? He said you love home-cooked meals and he wants to make them for you every single day.”

Jeonghan, hearing those words, had rushed into the kitchen where Seungcheol stood, apron tied around his waist, busy at the stove. For a moment, he stood frozen at the doorway, staring at Seungcheol who was concentrating so fully on the recipe. His heart swelled to the point of bursting. Seungcheol loved him so much that he had gone out of his way to learn something new, something he had never cared about, just to make him happy. For him. No one had ever taken such a step for Jeonghan before. No one had ever loved him with such devotion.

But it was the moment Seungcheol turned, his brow furrowing in concern when he saw Jeonghan standing there, lost in his thoughts, that Jeonghan’s chest clenched. Seungcheol, abandoning whatever was on the stove, rushed toward him, calling his name with panic.

Why? Jeonghan thought, feeling overwhelmed by the intensity of it all. Why would Seungcheol drop everything just to make sure I’m okay?

With a frustrated sigh, Jeonghan pulled Seungcheol into his arms, his heart racing. “Choi Seungcheol,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion, “You’re driving me crazy in love.”

Seungcheol, ever so caring, kissed his forehead, but then pulled back slightly, chuckling, his hand resting on Jeonghan’s forehead as he asked, “Are you feeling okay, jeonghannie? Do you have a fever?”

Jeonghan, smiling like a fool, couldn’t help but laugh softly. “Yes..." yes, I do. I think I’m falling in love with you all over again.

Seungcheol, still worried, fussed over him, misinterpreting his words. Does Jeonghan really have a fever? he wondered, his concern deepening. But Jeonghan wasn’t sick he was just overwhelmed by how deeply he was loved, how Seungcheol’s care for him made his heart ache.

But Jeonghan also understood that he had to do something for Seungcheol in return. He couldn’t just sit back and let Seungcheol be the one to always give. So, he decided to take up the cooking himself. He had picked up a shift at Mingyu’s restaurant, learning the art of cooking from him, because he wanted to feed Seungcheol the most delicious meals every day. Seungcheol loved to eat, and Jeonghan, as selfish as it may sound, wanted to be the one to feed him. He wanted to pamper Seungcheol just as much as Seungcheol pampered him. Cooking for him was nothing—nothing compared to the endless love Seungcheol poured into him every single day.

That evening, Jeonghan was preparing the kimchi stew Seungcheol had been talking about all week. As the stew simmered, Seungcheol changed into fresh clothes—a pretty pink hoodie and sweatshorts, a towel in hand, his hair already dry. He walked into the kitchen, his steps light and playful, just in time to see Jeonghan working on the ingredients.

“How many times have I told you to dry your hair properly, baby?” Seungcheol chided gently, his voice full of affection. He moved behind Jeonghan, towel in hand, and began drying Jeonghan’s hair with a soft touch.

Jeonghan leaned into the touch, his heart fluttering. He had never been the clingy type, never one to want to be so close, so attached. But lately, he couldn’t help it. He wanted to be close to Seungcheol, to feel him, to be wrapped up in the warmth of his presence.

Once Seungcheol finished drying his hair, Jeonghan wrapped his arms around his waist, gently trapping him against the counter. He buried his forehead against Seungcheol’s shoulder, breathing in his familiar scent, his body naturally curling around Seungcheol’s.

Seungcheol chuckled softly, his hands resting on Jeonghan’s arms. “What’s with you these days? So clingy” he teased, his voice light but filled with a warmth that made Jeonghan’s heart flutter.

Jeonghan, his lips brushing against Seungcheol’s neck, whispered, “Did you know how lovable you are?” His voice was soft, almost a murmur, as he kissed Seungcheol’s neck gently, savoring the feeling of Seungcheol under his touch.

Seungcheol shivered slightly, his hand coming up to rest on Jeonghan’s cheek, turning his face to meet his eyes. “Did you know how lovable you are? And how much I love you?" Seungcheol whispered, his voice full of tenderness, as though he couldn’t say it enough.

And Jeonghan, in that moment, knew that no matter how much he learned to do for Seungcheol, it would never compare to the love Seungcheol gave him so effortlessly, so freely. But it was enough. It was more than enough. Because they had each other, because he has Seungcheol, and that was everything.

----

Sometimes, Jeonghan wonders if he truly deserves Seungcheol. It’s not that he doubts his love, but he wonders if Seungcheol deserves someone better—someone who can offer him everything he deserves. Someone who can love him unconditionally, loudly, and openly, just like Seungcheol loves him. The kind of love that isn’t shy or hidden but spills out into every moment, every word, every gesture. That kind of love is the kind Seungcheol deserves, and Jeonghan feels like he’s falling short.

Tonight, though, Jeonghan is here in Joshua’s bar, his body stained with the evidence of a long day’s work. Dirt, oil, and the marks of his labor cover him, and he aches for nothing more than to lie down, to hold Seungcheol in his arms, to feel the warmth of his presence and the familiar comfort of their shared space. But Seungcheol is out, laughing with his friends—Soonyoung and Seungkwan —at the arcade just a few doors down, where they’ve gathered for their monthly meet-up. Jeonghan could go home, wash up, and rest, but he can’t bring himself to interrupt Seungcheol’s joy. Seungcheol loves spending time with his friends, and Jeonghan would give the world to Seungcheol if he asked. He stays, the weight of his longing pressing on his chest.

Seungcheol’s birthday is coming up, and usually, it’s Seungcheol who plans the day—what they’ll do, where they’ll go, how they’ll celebrate. Jeonghan is too unromantic, too awkward in his affection, to do anything grand for Seungcheol. He’s never been the type to surprise Seungcheol with some grand romantic gesture. Seungcheol’s the one who watches dramas and dreams of the kind of love that’s loud and extravagant. Jeonghan can’t help but sigh at the thought. For the nth time tonight, the sigh escapes him, prompting Joshua—who’s behind the bar—to throw a rag at him, his patience running thin.

“If you don’t stop sighing, I’ll kick you out,” Joshua threatens, but there’s no real malice in his voice.

Mingyu, standing next to him, chuckles, but then, with a more serious tone, asks, “What’s going on, Jeonghan hyung?”

Jeonghan sighs again, rubbing his temples. He confesses to them how he wishes he could do something for Seungcheol this year. Something that would make Seungcheol feel loved, truly loved, in a way that only Jeonghan can give him.

Joshua’s brow furrows, mildly offended. “When did you ever make Seungcheol feel unloved?”

Jeonghan gestures around himself, his body language hopeless. “Being like this,” he says, his voice quiet but heavy with the weight of his insecurities. “I want to do something special for him. I don’t want him to always be the one doing everything. I want him to feel like the most special person in the world, too.”

Mingyu smiles, his gaze warm. “You already are doing that, Jeonghan hyung.”

Jeonghan frowns, a bit offended. “Are you just saying that to make me feel better?”

Joshua cuts in, his voice steady and sure. “Seungcheol knows. He feels the love you give him, even if it’s not as loud or open as his. He knows it, Jeonghan. The way you treat him, the way you care for him—he feels it. And he loves the way you love him.”

Mingyu adds, “Love doesn’t need to be shouted from the rooftops. Love is an art, and art is subjective, right? You love him quietly, but deeply, and he feels it to his very core. And he loves you openly, loudly, so you can feel it too.”

Joshua leans over the counter, his expression serious. “If you want to know how he feels about your love, ask him. He’ll tell you. He’ll explain it better than anyone.”

Mingyu’s smile grows. “And if you really want to plan something special for him this year, even though you’re always his everything, we can help.”

Just then, the door opens, and in walks Seungcheol, Soonyoung, and Seungkwan, the familiar sound of their laughter lifting the atmosphere. Seungcheol is holding a medium-sized fox plushie, his eyes scanning the room until they land on Jeonghan. The moment Seungcheol sees him, he hurries over, and Jeonghan instinctively opens his arms, waiting for the warmth of Seungcheol’s embrace.

Seungcheol steps between Jeonghan’s legs, resting his head on Jeonghan’s shoulder, and Jeonghan plants a light kiss on Seungcheol’s forehead. “Did you have fun?” he asks softly, his voice full of affection.

Seungcheol beams, holding up the fox plushie. “I won it for you,” he says, his eyes shining with the kind of joy that only Seungcheol can radiate. Of course, he would never forget Jeonghan—not even for a second.

Jeonghan smiles warmly, accepting the plushie with a whispered thank you. “Sorry I’m still dirty,” he says, glancing down at his clothes. “I couldn’t go home and change.”

Seungcheol brushes it off with a soft kiss to Jeonghan’s cheek. “It’s okay,” he whispers, his voice low and full of affection. “I don’t care. As long as you’re here, nothing else matters.”

He leans in, his face nuzzling against the crook of Jeonghan’s neck, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper. “Besides, you look incredibly hot like this—rough around the edges.”

Jeonghan chuckles, squeezing Seungcheol’s waist. “You think so?” he asks, amused.

Seungcheol pulls back, pouting and furrowing his brows. “You think I’m joking?” he asks, his tone playful but sincere.

Jeonghan gives him a look—one that says it’s obvious—and Seungcheol huffs, a mock offense on his face. “Even if you were in a garbage bag, you’d still be the most handsome man in the world,” Seungcheol insists, his fingers gently wiping at the dirt on Jeonghan’s face. “A little splurge only makes you hotter, you know.”

Jeonghan is struck by the depth of Seungcheol’s love, the way he always makes him feel seen, cherished, and adored, even in the most mundane moments. The warmth in his chest grows, and he knows, without a doubt, that he is seriously, utterly, deeply in love with this man.

––––

Jeonghan always had a dream—grand, foolish, and so far out of reach that it seemed like a fantasy. But he held onto it. Racing had been his life since he was younger, the roar of engines and the adrenaline of the track his constant companions. That was how he met Seungcheol for the first time—when Seungcheol came to watch one of his races with his friends, claiming to be Jeonghan's biggest fan. Of course, Jeonghan thought with a smug grin, who else would Seungcheol admire if not him?

At the peak of his career, Jeonghan was unstoppable. He had it all—a growing legacy, the love of his life, and a promise etched in his heart. He’d win the Grand Prix, and at the finish line, he’d propose to Seungcheol, his greatest victory waiting for him. It wasn’t just a promise—it was a vision of their future, a future that Seungcheol believed in as much as he did.

But dreams have a cruel way of shattering.

The accusations came like a storm, swift and unforgiving. Jeonghan was accused of doping, of taking drugs before a race. The world that once cheered for him turned its back, and in the blink of an eye, everything crumbled. His career, his reputation, his dream—it was all gone. The Grand Prix and the proposal became a distant, broken dream. But even as his world fell apart, Jeonghan never stopped holding onto one truth: no matter what, he would propose to Seungcheol. The how didn’t matter anymore—only who.

Today, Seungcheol had insisted on going out. He had already dressed, waiting in the living room while on the phone with their friends. Apparently, it wasn’t just the two of them going out; the whole group would be joining. Jeonghan, tossed on his leather jacket, grabbing another for Seungcheol. As he walked into the living room, Seungcheol looked up, his face brightening instantly.

"Ready to go?" Seungcheol asked, his voice warm and inviting.

Jeonghan smiled, his heart aching in the best way. "Of course. I’m always ready to go anywhere with you, baby," he said, stepping closer. His voice softened as he added, "Even if it meant following you to the depths of the underworld."

Seungcheol laughed, his cheeks dusting with pink. "You’re ridiculous," he murmured, though his eyes gleamed with affection.

Jeonghan kissed him then—slow and deep, pouring every unsaid word, every unspoken promise into the press of their lips. When they pulled apart, Seungcheol’s gaze was dazed, his lips parted as if still caught in the moment. He smiled, his voice barely above a whisper. "You know I’d follow you too, right? To the depths of the underworld, to the ends of the earth—anywhere, Jeonghan."

Jeonghan’s heart thudded, the weight of his love for this man nearly overwhelming. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair behind Seungcheol’s ear, his touch soft and reverent. "I know," he said, his voice steady and certain. "I know."

The roar of engines filled the air, the scent of gasoline and rubber heavy around the track. Jeonghan stood frozen, his hands buried deep in his leather jacket pockets as he glanced around at the bikers gearing up, their bikes polished and gleaming under the midday sun. The cacophony of laughter, cheers, and revving engines made his chest tighten, memories clawing their way to the surface. Two and a half years—it had been two and a half years since he’d stepped foot near a track, let alone thought about racing.

He turned to Seungcheol, his expression a mixture of confusion and disbelief. His silent question was clear: Why are we here?

Seungcheol, as always, wore a smile that could melt glaciers, his eyes twinkling with mischief. Standing beside the registration booth, surrounded by their friends, Seungcheol looked far too pleased with himself. "You’re here to win the race and take me out on a dinner date," he said matter-of-factly.

Their friends—Soonyoung, Mingyu, Joshua and Seungkwan—immediately protested, groaning in unison.

"Us," Seungcheol corrected with a playful grumble, throwing a pointed glance at them. "You’ll treat all of us."

Jeonghan shook his head, his heart pounding at the absurdity of it all. "No. Absolutely not. That’s not happening. Sorry." His voice was firm, but his hands trembled slightly in his pockets.

Just as Soonyoung opened his mouth to protest, Seungcheol stepped closer, his presence warm and familiar. He leaned in, his breath ghosting against Jeonghan’s ear, his voice low enough for only him to hear. "You promised me," Seungcheol murmured, his tone a mix of teasing and persuasion.

Jeonghan blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

Seungcheol’s lips curved into a devilish smile. "Last night. After you got home from work. Remember? You weren’t even cleaned up yet, and we..." He trailed off deliberately, his fingers lightly brushing Jeonghan’s arm. "I told you I wanted to see you win again. See you all fired up, adrenaline rushing through your veins, and do the exact same thing you did to me last night."

Jeonghan’s face flushed at the memory. The way Seungcheol had looked beneath him, his body glowing in the dim light, his voice breathy as he whispered his desires—how could Jeonghan have resisted? He’d agreed to anything in that moment, completely mesmerized by the beauty of the man he loved.

"You tricked me," Jeonghan muttered, glaring at Seungcheol, though the corners of his lips twitched.

Seungcheol grinned, unabashed. "I didn’t trick you. You agreed."

Joshua, noticing their private exchange but oblivious to the context, called out, "Come on, Jeonghan. You know you want to. We all do!"

Jeonghan sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. The weight of their expectations—and Seungcheol’s hopeful gaze—pressed against him. He glanced at the track again, the memories of his downfall lingering like ghosts. But then he looked at Seungcheol, at the unwavering love in his eyes, and he knew one thing for sure: Seungcheol believed in him, even when he didn’t believe in himself.

"Fine," Jeonghan finally said, his voice low but with a  steady smirk. "But if I do this, you’re paying me tonight."

Seungcheol’s laugh was the sweetest sound Jeonghan had ever heard, and as Seungcheol leaned in to kiss his cheek, Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile. 

Of course, Jeonghan couldn’t say no. Not to Seungcheol. What Seungcheol wanted, Seungcheol got, because Jeonghan was utterly, hopelessly whipped for him.

He registered for the race, and to his not-so-surprised disbelief, his friends had already prepared everything. His gear, his helmet, even his old racing bike—everything was here, as though they had planned this for weeks.

When Soonyoung wheeled his bike into view, Jeonghan froze. It was still as pristine and striking as the last time he’d seen it, the sleek black-and-silver body gleaming under the sunlight, the engraved number 2 catching his eye. His fingers itched to touch it, to feel the familiar grip, but an ache lingered in his chest. He hadn’t seen it, hadn’t touched it, since the day he walked away from racing.

"This used to be your baby," Soonyoung teased, patting the bike with a grin. "You used to spend more time with it than Seungcheol."

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "Biggest lie ever. Nothing—not even this bike—will ever come before my Seungcheol."

The words were simple, but the sincerity in them struck everyone silent for a moment. Even Seungcheol, standing nearby, couldn’t help but blush slightly.

Jeonghan changed into his gear, the snug leather fitting him like a second skin, as though no time had passed. When he emerged, their group broke into cheers and whistles. But Jeonghan’s eyes were on one person only.

Stopping in front of Seungcheol, Jeonghan raised an eyebrow. "You’re unusually quiet," he noted, tilting his head.

Seungcheol looked at him, his expression soft and nostalgic. "It’s just... you look exactly like the first time I fell for you," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a small smile tugging at his lips.

Jeonghan smirked, stepping closer. "If you’d told me that before, I would’ve worn this every day," he teased.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes, lightly smacking Jeonghan’s chest. "I do tell you. Every time. You just like pretending not to hear it."

Chuckling, Jeonghan wrapped an arm around Seungcheol’s waist, pulling him close. "Good luck kiss?" he asked, his voice low and playful.

Their friends groaned in unison, Seungkwan dramatically gagging while Mingyu muttered something about public displays of affection. But Jeonghan ignored them all, his focus solely on Seungcheol.

Seungcheol leaned in, their lips meeting in a kiss that was soft yet charged with the unspoken promise of more. When he pulled back, he whispered, "Good luck. Win. And come back to me."

Jeonghan grinned, his heart swelling as he pressed another quick kiss to Seungcheol’s forehead. "Of course. My baby always gets what he wants."

With that, he strode to his bike, the roar of the engine igniting something within him that had been dormant for too long. As he rolled onto the track, the familiar hum of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

This was home.

The race was exhilarating, every turn, every acceleration pulling Jeonghan back to a version of himself he thought he’d lost. By the time he crossed the finish line, the cheers were deafening, but all he could focus on was Seungcheol, standing at the edge of the crowd with the brightest smile.

Jeonghan had won. Of course, he did. Because Seungcheol had asked for it, and Jeonghan would give Seungcheol the world if he could.

----

Jeonghan barely had time to revel in his victory from the previous night. Though the golden medal now lay on their bedside table, a symbol of triumph, his mind was already racing with plans for the next big moment in their lives—Seungcheol’s birthday.

As the morning sun painted their apartment in soft hues of gold, Jeonghan dropped Seungcheol off at work. They shared a lingering kiss before Seungcheol stepped down from the bike, his hand brushing Jeonghan’s cheek one last time. "Don’t work too hard today," Seungcheol said, his voice warm with affection.

Jeonghan grinned. "I could say the same to you."

Once Seungcheol disappeared into the building, Jeonghan shifted gears and headed toward the beachside hotel owned by Minghao. Ocean’s Love stood proud against the backdrop of endless waves, its architecture a perfect marriage of elegance and tranquility. Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile as he parked, remembering the story Minghao once drunkenly shared.

"I built this for him, you know," Minghao had slurred, his cheeks flushed. "Mingyu’s love... it’s like the ocean. Vast, deep, and endless. How could I not create something that speaks of him?"

Jeonghan had laughed that night, teasing Minghao for being so poetic, but now, standing before the masterpiece, he could see exactly what Minghao meant. If love could take physical form, Ocean’s Love was it.

Inside, Minghao and Mingyu greeted him warmly. Mingyu, pulled Jeonghan into a bear hug, while Minghao offered him a more subdued smile.

"Finally planning something for your boyfriend, huh?" Mingyu teased, his grin wide. "About time. Seungcheol hyung deserves it."

"Hey, I spoil him all the time," Jeonghan retorted, rolling his eyes. "But this... this has to be perfect."

Minghao gestured for Jeonghan to follow, leading him to a private suite overlooking the ocean. The large glass windows framed the waves, their rhythmic crash against the shore creating a serene atmosphere.

"So, what’s the plan?" Minghao asked, leaning against the polished table.

Jeonghan laid out his ideas, his voice tinged with excitement. A private dinner under the stars, right on the beach, with fairy lights strung between palm trees and soft music playing in the background. He wanted Seungcheol’s favorite dishes, a path of candles leading to their table, and a moment where he could surprise him with a gift—a vintage watch he’d been eyeing for months, engraved with the words: "To my forever, SC."

"I want him to feel like the most loved person in the world," Jeonghan confessed, his voice softening.

"You’re such a sap," Mingyu teased, though his tone was fond. "But honestly, this sounds amazing. Hao can handle the aesthetics. I’ll take care of the food and music."

Minghao nodded, already scribbling notes. "We’ll make it unforgettable," he promised.

Jeonghan sighed in relief, his heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you. Both of you."

As they finalized the details, Jeonghan couldn’t help but think about the unspoken understanding he shared with Seungcheol. Last night had been proof of it. Seungcheol had known how much Jeonghan missed racing, had quietly orchestrated the entire event, and had stood by him with unwavering support. It was love in its purest form, and Jeonghan wanted nothing more than to reflect that love back tenfold.

"I’ll make this perfect for you," he thought, a soft smile gracing his lips. "Because you’ve given me nothing but perfection every single day."

----

Jeonghan sat on the shore behind the hotel, the velvet box resting lightly in his palm, its weight feeling far heavier than it should. The sun was setting, painting the sky in hues of gold and crimson, while the waves crashed softly against the shore, a soothing backdrop to his restless thoughts. He opened the box, revealing the simple yet elegant ring inside, its brilliance catching the fading light.

It was supposed to be perfect—their moment. But Jeonghan couldn’t shake the lingering doubt that had festered within him for years.

He barely noticed the sound of footsteps until Minghao’s familiar accented voice cut through his solitude. "Why aren’t you giving it to him?" Minghao asked, his tone calm yet curious as he settled beside Jeonghan on the sand.

Jeonghan gave him a faint smile, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "Because he deserves better."

Minghao raised a brow, waiting for him to elaborate.

Jeonghan sighed, his fingers brushing over the ring. "No matter how much I love Seungcheol, this is all I can offer him—just a ring, just... me. He deserves the world, and I can’t give him that. I don’t want him to settle for less."

There was a long pause as Minghao studied him, then turned his gaze to the ocean. "You know," he said, his voice thoughtful, "Seungcheol would still accept it. He’d still love it—and you—despite everything. You know that, right?"

Jeonghan nodded slowly. "I do. It’s obvious."

"Not obvious," Minghao corrected. "It’s a fact. Seungcheol’s made it clear a thousand times. He loves you, Jeonghan. He doesn’t need the world; he just needs you. So don’t belittle yourself."

Jeonghan let out another sigh, the weight of Minghao’s words settling on him. "You don’t understand," he murmured.

Minghao chuckled softly. "I do. More than you think. And I know why you’re really reluctant."

Jeonghan arched a brow, glancing at him.

"It’s because you promised to propose to him after winning a Grand Prix, didn’t you?" Minghao said, his voice laced with knowing amusement.

Jeonghan let out a bitter laugh. "That’ll never happen anymore, and we all know it."

Minghao turned to him, his eyes glinting with determination. "It can happen."

Jeonghan froze, his breath hitching as he stared at Minghao in disbelief.

"The Grand Prix opens next month," Minghao continued. "They’re still choosing contestants. I happened to mention you to one of my regular customers—a guy who’s a major sponsor and part of the management team. He told me he’d make sure there’s a spot open for you if you want it."

Jeonghan blinked, stunned into silence. He felt like the ground beneath him had shifted.

Minghao smirked. "What? Surprised? It’s my job as Seungcheol’s little brother to make sure he gets what he deserves—and that includes you finally fulfilling your promise."

Jeonghan’s lips parted, his voice barely a whisper. "You really are his little brother, aren’t you?"

Minghao grinned. "Correction, half-brother. And also your best friend, who’s tired of watching you doubt yourself."

Jeonghan stared at him, emotions swirling in his chest. For the first time in a long while, hope flickered to life. Perhaps... just perhaps... he could give Seungcheol what he’d promised all those years ago.

"Think about it," Minghao said, standing and brushing sand off his pants. "My hyung deserves the best, and that’s you—on the track, in life, everywhere. You’ve got this,  jeonghan hyung."

As Minghao walked away, Jeonghan looked back down at the ring in his hand. His heart pounded with renewed purpose. If there was even a chance to make this happen, he would take it. For Seungcheol, for their love, for the promise he never intended to break.

----

Jeonghan had spent the week in a whirlwind of thoughts, weighing every possibility, every risk, and every promise he’d made to Seungcheol and himself. By the time he decided to pick Seungcheol up from work, he still wasn’t entirely sure how to bring it up. What he did know, however, was that he needed to see Seungcheol—to feel the steady reassurance that only he could provide.

He arrived a little earlier than usual, leaning casually against his bike as workers began filing out of the building. His heart fluttered when he spotted Seungcheol, dressed in his usual business attire, his hair slightly mussed from the long day.

The moment Seungcheol saw him, his face lit up with a smile, but it quickly shifted to concern. He walked up to Jeonghan, who had already opened his arms for a hug. “Are you okay?” Seungcheol asked, his voice gentle, his gaze searching.

Jeonghan’s heart melted at the familiar gesture. Seungcheol always noticed even the smallest shifts in his mood, and he never rushed him—he simply waited, patiently, lovingly, for Jeonghan to open up.

“It’s nothing serious,” Jeonghan replied, his voice soft but reassuring.

Seungcheol studied him for a moment, then nodded, clearly sensing that Jeonghan needed time to sort through his thoughts. Without another word, he slipped on the helmet Jeonghan handed him, and Jeonghan adjusted the strap under his chin, his fingers lingering for just a moment.

They didn’t say much as Jeonghan revved the bike and pulled out onto the street. Seungcheol’s arms wrapped securely around his waist, and Jeonghan felt the familiar warmth of his embrace. It was grounding, comforting, and for a moment, he let himself bask in the sheer certainty of their connection.

---

By the end of the week, Jeonghan had made up his mind. He reached out to Minghao, who wasted no time arranging a meeting with Kang Dae Ho, the Grand Prix sponsor Minghao had mentioned.

The meeting took place in one of the private lounges at Minghao’s hotel. Kang Dae Ho, a distinguished man in his late forties, greeted Jeonghan warmly. His smile was genuine, and his handshake firm.

“I have to say,” Dae Ho began as they sat down, “it’s an honor to meet you. I watched you race years ago, and I’ve been a quiet fan ever since. The way you handled the track was something else.”

Jeonghan felt a flush of pride at the compliment but remained humble. “Thank you. I didn’t realize people still remembered me.”

“Oh, they do,” Dae Ho said with a chuckle. “And I’d love to see you back on the track. Of course, it’s been a while, so if you’re serious about this, we’ll need to get you into training right away. I can arrange for the best coaches and facilities. What do you think?”

Jeonghan hesitated for a moment, his mind flickering to Seungcheol and the promise he’d made so long ago. Finally, he nodded. “I think I’m ready.”

Dae Ho smiled, clapping his hands together. “Then let’s make it happen.”

The following week was nothing short of intense for Jeonghan. Training brought back memories of his glory days, but it also reminded him of the grueling effort it took to perfect his craft. Minghao often tagged along, offering quiet but unwavering support. Though Jeonghan appreciated the company, he kept his focus razor-sharp. This wasn’t just about him anymore—it was about fulfilling the promise he made to Seungcheol and giving him the most heartfelt gift he could.

Despite the long days at the track, Jeonghan didn’t let it interfere with his routine of dropping Seungcheol off at work each morning and picking him up in the evening. Seungcheol was none the wiser, though he occasionally gave Jeonghan a curious look, likely sensing there was something his boyfriend wasn’t sharing. But Jeonghan held his ground, wanting the reveal to be as special as possible.

As the days crept closer to Seungcheol’s birthday, Jeonghan realized he needed to plan the trip to Abu Dhabi meticulously. The Grand Prix was being held there, and Jeonghan intended to use the trip as part of his surprise. To make it all happen, he finally decided to loop in their friends—Seungkwan, Soonyoung, Joshua, and Mingyu.

Gathering everyone at Minghao’s hotel one evening, Jeonghan revealed his plans. “So,” he began, leaning against the edge of a table, “I’ve decided to compete in the Grand Prix.”

The room erupted into a mix of shocked gasps and excited cheers.

“You’re serious?!” Seungkwan exclaimed, his eyes wide.

“Dead serious,” Jeonghan confirmed, a proud but nervous smile creeping onto his face.

Mingyu, who had been sitting with his arm draped around Minghao, looked between the two of them. “Wait, you knew about this?” he asked Minghao.

Minghao gave a small shrug. “Of course, but I wanted Jeonghan hyung to tell you himself.”

“Thank you for that,” Jeonghan said, sending Minghao an appreciative look before addressing the group. “Now, I need your help. I haven’t told Seungcheol anything yet. The plan is to take him to Abu Dhabi for his birthday. He’ll think it’s just a vacation, but once we’re there, I’ll tell him about the race.”

Joshua grinned, clapping Jeonghan on the back. “That’s an incredible idea. He’s going to love it.”

Soonyoung, ever the enthusiastic one, pumped his fists in the air. “Yes! Our Jeonghan hyung is going to crush it on the track again! And Seungcheol-hyung is going to be so proud!”

Seungkwan, however, raised a practical point. “Do you have everything planned? Flights, accommodations, the timing of the reveal?”

Jeonghan nodded. “That’s where I need your help. Minghao’s already helping me with the logistics, but I’ll need you guys to keep Seungcheol distracted while I finalize the details. And, of course, I’ll need you all there for moral support during the race.”

“You can count on us,” Mingyu said, a determined look in his eyes.

With everyone on board, the excitement in the room was palpable. Jeonghan felt a surge of gratitude for his friends and a renewed determination to make the surprise unforgettable.

 Jeonghan lingered for a moment, staring out the window at the ocean. He could already picture Seungcheol’s reaction—the awe in his eyes, the pride in his voice, and the way he’d smile like Jeonghan was his entire world.

“This is going to be worth it,” Jeonghan murmured to himself, gripping the velvet box in hispocket. “For him, it always is.”

––––

The warm glow of candlelight bathed the living room in a soft golden hue as Jeonghan stood by the table, a small, satisfied smile curling on his lips. He was dressed in the pink button-up that Seungcheol had gifted him, the fabric snug against his frame and glowing faintly under the flickering light. The scent of Tom Ford Oud Wood lingered in the air, subtle yet enticing—a scent Seungcheol always said felt like home.

Jeonghan had just finished lighting the last candle when he heard the familiar sound of soft footsteps and Seungcheol’s voice calling for him. He turned toward the threshold just as Seungcheol appeared, his expression morphing from curiosity to awe. Seungcheol froze for a moment, his mouth parting slightly, his eyes scanning the scene before landing on Jeonghan.

“Oh my…” Seungcheol whispered, a soft gasp escaping his lips.

Jeonghan smirked, picking up the bouquet of roses from the table—vibrant crimson blooms tied together with a satin ribbon. He approached Seungcheol, his steps slow and deliberate, his smile warm and inviting.

When he stopped just in front of him, Jeonghan extended the bouquet with a playful tilt of his head. “Choi Seungcheol,” he began in a low, teasing voice, “would you do me the honor of joining me for dinner tonight?”

Seungcheol blinked, his shock melting into a bright, heartwarming laugh that echoed in the dimly lit room. He accepted the bouquet with both hands, his cheeks flushed slightly from the overwhelming gesture. “Of course, how could I ever say no to you?”

Jeonghan’s smile widened, a sparkle of pride in his eyes. “Good, because I worked really hard on this.” He stepped aside, motioning toward the table that was elegantly set with their favorite dishes, a bottle of wine sitting in a chilled bucket nearby.

Seungcheol couldn’t stop smiling as he walked further into the room, taking in every detail. “You did all this for me?”

“For us,” Jeonghan corrected softly, his gaze tender as he watched Seungcheol. “You deserve this and so much more.”

Seungcheol set the flowers down gently on the side table, then turned back to Jeonghan, his expression softening further. “You always do this—always make me feel like the luckiest person alive.”

Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer and brushing a stray strand of hair from Seungcheol’s forehead. “That’s because you are. And tonight, I have something special to tell you.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow, intrigued, but Jeonghan shook his head, taking his hand and leading him to the table. “Not yet. Let’s eat first.”

As they sat down, the warmth of the moment wrapped around them like a cocoon. Jeonghan watched as Seungcheol took his first bite, the way his eyes lit up at the taste, and felt a swell of pride. 

As Seungcheol finished his last sip of wine, Jeonghan leaned back in his chair, watching the content smile on his boyfriend’s face. The dinner had gone perfectly so far, and now it was time to bring up the surprise.

Jeonghan reached out, brushing his fingers over Seungcheol's hand. "Cheol," he began, his voice soft but steady.

Seungcheol looked up, his warm eyes instantly locking onto Jeonghan's. "Hmm?" he hummed, leaning forward slightly, always attuned to Jeonghan’s every word.

Jeonghan bit his lip, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I’ve been planning something for your birthday," he said, watching Seungcheol’s expression shift to one of curiosity.

"You didn’t have to do anything big," Seungcheol said, though his eyes betrayed his excitement. "You know I’m happy as long as I’m with you."

Jeonghan chuckled, shaking his head. "I know, but this is something I really wanted to do. You’re always doing so much for me, Cheol. It’s my turn to give something back."

He reached down and pulled a slim envelope from under the table, sliding it carefully toward Seungcheol. "Here," he said, his voice tinged with nervous excitement. "Open it."

As Seungcheol read the destination printed on the tickets in his hands, his movements stilled. The soft candlelight reflected in his widened eyes as he stared at the text, disbelief and emotion washing over his face. Slowly, he looked up at Jeonghan, who sat across the table, nervously fidgeting with the edge of his pink button-up.

“You… planned this?” Seungcheol asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving.

Jeonghan nodded, swallowing hard. “It’s for your birthday,” he said, his voice trembling slightly. “I know you’ve always wanted to visit Abu Dhabi, and I thought…” He hesitated, his fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “I thought you deserved it. You deserve the whole world, Seungcheol-ah, and… this is my way of giving you a piece of it.”

Seungcheol’s breath hitched, his gaze flickering between Jeonghan and the tickets in his hands. He set them down gently on the table and rose from his seat. Jeonghan’s eyes followed him, confused, until Seungcheol walked around the table. Without a word, he carefully sat down on Jeonghan’s lap, wrapping his arms tightly around his boyfriend's shoulders.

Jeonghan stiffened in surprise, his hands hovering awkwardly before he slowly brought them up to rest on Seungcheol’s waist, holding him gently.

“Baby—”

“I love you,” Seungcheol interrupted, his voice muffled against Jeonghan’s shoulder. “You didn’t have to do all this for me to know that. I already feel it. Every single day.”

Jeonghan blinked, his heart pounding in his chest. “But I wanted to,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I know,” Seungcheol said, pulling back slightly to look Jeonghan in the eyes. His gaze was warm and filled with emotion. “But I need you to know that your love isn’t measured by the things you do or the gifts you give. I feel it in the way you look at me, Hannie, like I’m your whole world. I feel it in the little things you do, like picking me up from work every day, even when you’re exhausted. Or the way you silently make sure I’m okay, even when I don’t say a word.”

Jeonghan’s throat tightened as he tried to find the right words, but nothing came out.

“I feel your love when you cook for me, even though you hate spending time in the kitchen. When you stay at gatherings longer than you’d like because you know I enjoy them. When you remember the smallest details about me, things I don’t even realize about myself.” Seungcheol’s voice cracked slightly, and he cupped Jeonghan’s face gently. “You love me in your own way, Jeonghan-ah. And it’s more than enough. You are more than enough.”

A tear slipped down Jeonghan’s cheek, and Seungcheol wiped it away with his thumb.

"You might not say it as often as I do," Seungcheol said, his thumb brushing gently against Jeonghan’s cheek, "but I know. I see it in everything you do, Jeonghan. Even when you’re quiet, even when you’re struggling to show it, I feel it. And I don’t need anything else to prove it."

Jeonghan’s chest tightened, his throat thick with unshed tears. "I just… I’m not good at saying it, Cheol. I wish I could be like you, but—"

"I don’t want you to be like me," Seungcheol interrupted, his smile soft and reassuring. "I want you to be you, Hannie. Just you. That’s all I’ll ever need."

Jeonghan let out a shaky breath, his hands tightening around Seungcheol’s waist. "Do you really feel it? Even when I can’t say it properly?"

Seungcheol smiled, leaning his forehead against Jeonghan’s. "I feel it in every little thing you do. And I love you for it. For all of it."

The words sank deep into Jeonghan’s heart, and for the first time in a long while, he felt truly understood. He didn’t need to be perfect, didn’t need to say or do everything right. His love was enough—because Seungcheol saw it, even when he struggled to show it.

Jeonghan let out a shaky breath, his arms tightening around Seungcheol’s waist as he buried his face in his shoulder. “You always know the right thing to say,” he muttered, his voice muffled.

“And you always know the right thing to do,” Seungcheol replied with a small smile, resting his head against Jeonghan’s. “That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”

For a moment, they stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, the soft glow of the candles casting a warm light around them. Seungcheol’s hands gently stroked Jeonghan’s back, and Jeonghan’s grip on him didn’t falter, as if he was holding onto his entire world.

"I love you too," Jeonghan whispered, his voice cracking slightly. "More than you’ll ever know."

"I already know," Seungcheol said with a grin, pulling Jeonghan into another tight hug. "And it’s more than enough."

––––

They had arrived in Abu Dhabi the night before, and in just two days, the Grand Prix would take place. Jeonghan still hadn’t told Seungcheol about it. As he watched Seungcheol sleep in his arms, his face peaceful and content, Jeonghan felt the weight of anticipation building inside him. He couldn’t wait for the race to be over, for the day to finally come when he could win and propose to Seungcheol.

Jeonghan checked his phone quietly, and as soon as he did, a text from his friends popped up. They were already in Abu Dhabi too, ready to help with the proposal preparations at the hotel Jeonghan had chosen. He had planned it all out—after the race, he would drive Seungcheol to the hotel where all their friends would be waiting, and that’s when he would propose properly. He could already picture the look of surprise and joy on Seungcheol's face, and the thought made his heart race with excitement.

Kissing the top of Seungcheol’s head, Jeonghan carefully placed his phone down. He wasn’t in any rush—he wanted to savor the moment, to hold Seungcheol just a little longer. But as soon as he did, he felt Seungcheol stir, his body shifting against Jeonghan's, slowly waking up.

"Mm... morning," Seungcheol mumbled, his voice still thick with sleep. He blinked slowly, looking up at Jeonghan with soft eyes.

Jeonghan smiled, his heart swelling at the sight. "Good morning, baby," he whispered, pulling him closer.

Seungcheol, still half-asleep, nuzzled into his chest and mumbled, “You’re up early... thinking about something?”

Jeonghan smiled, brushing his fingers through Seungcheol’s messy hair. “Just you,” he replied softly, not able to hide the tenderness in his voice. "And... everything that’s coming."

Seungcheol blinked sleepily, his lips curling into a small smile. "Everything?" he asked, his voice still heavy with drowsiness. "What are you planning, Hannie?"

Jeonghan chuckled, his eyes twinkling with excitement. "You'll find out soon enough." He leaned down and kissed Seungcheol’s forehead gently.

Seungcheol let out a soft, satisfied hum, melting into Jeonghan’s embrace as the warmth of the morning filled the room. For a moment, everything felt perfect.

The whole day was spent in a whirlwind of exploration and romance. Jeonghan and Seungcheol wandered through the bustling streets of Abu Dhabi, hand in hand, soaking in the sights and sounds. They ate at cozy cafes, visited stunning landmarks, and shared quiet moments, laughing and talking as they always did. The city, vibrant with life, felt like the perfect backdrop for their time together.

As the sun dipped, Jeonghan led Seungcheol to a lively pub. The doors opened, and Seungcheol’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw their friends waiting for them, all gathered in one place. Seungcheol’s face lit up, the joy in his eyes unmistakable. His friends’ presence was the cherry on top of the perfect day, and he wasted no time pulling Jeonghan into a kiss, murmuring against his lips, “You’ve gotten really good at surprises, huh?”

Jeonghan smiled against the kiss, his heart fluttering as he whispered, “There’s more to come.” His voice held an edge of mystery, and Seungcheol laughed softly, nuzzling into his neck.

The night carried on with laughter, drinks, and stories shared among friends, the warmth of companionship filling the room. But as the day ended, Jeonghan knew tomorrow would be different. He had his training with his coach and the other players, and though he hated the thought of leaving Seungcheol for a whole day, he knew it was necessary.

The next morning, after a quiet breakfast, Jeonghan kissed Seungcheol goodbye, feeling an ache in his chest as he pulled away. "I have to accompany Minghao today," he told him, hoping Seungcheol would buy the excuse. "He needs help with something, and I promised I’d be there."

Seungcheol, always soft when it came to his little brother, looked understanding but disappointed. “I’ll miss you," he mumbled, leaning into the kiss that Jeonghan pressed to his forehead.

“I’ll miss you too, Cheol,” Jeonghan replied softly, his own heart heavy. “But I’ll be back before you know it, and I’m sure our friends will keep you entertained.”

Minghao, who had been waiting for Jeonghan outside, gave him a reassuring nod, signaling that he was ready to go. Jeonghan, though guilty about leaving Seungcheol behind, knew it was for the best. He had to focus on the race, and the proposal—and everything leading up to it—needed to go perfectly.

As Seungcheol waved him off, Jeonghan felt a pang of longing, but he pushed it aside. There was so much to do in the coming days, and he couldn’t afford to slip up now.

That night, after jeonghan returned from training was filled with celebtation and the clinking of glasses as Jeonghan, Seungcheol, and their friends celebrated Seungcheol's early birthday at a cozy restaurant. Mingyu, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, Joshua, and Minghao were all there, each of them contributing to the happiness that radiated from Seungcheol.

Jeonghan couldn't help but smile as he watched Seungcheol's eyes light up with every joke, every toast, every moment of affection from their friends. He had been waiting for this moment for so long — to make Seungcheol feel loved, cherished, and special. Seungcheol deserved all of it and more.

As the night wore on, the clock slowly ticked closer to midnight. Jeonghan had orchestrated everything perfectly. When the time was right, he excused himself from the table, telling Seungcheol that he needed to use the restroom. Seungcheol, in his usual playful manner, teased him about running off just as they were having so much fun, but Jeonghan only winked before slipping away, his heart racing.

At exactly 12:00 AM, Jeonghan returned, reappearing at the table with a cake in his hands — the candles flickering brightly in the dim light of the restaurant. The moment he stepped into the room, everyone fell silent, their eyes turning to him. The seconds stretched, the anticipation thick in the air.

When the cake was placed before Seungcheol, his eyes widened in shock, and a soft laugh escaped his lips. "Jeonghan," he breathed, his gaze meeting Jeonghan's, overwhelmed with emotion. He never expected this, not like this.

Jeonghan beamed, his heart full. "Happy birthday, baby," he said, his voice gentle yet filled with all the love he felt for the man before him.

Their friends gathered around, clapping and cheering. Seungcheol was speechless for a moment, then pulled Jeonghan into a tight embrace, his arms wrapping around him as he whispered, "I can't believe you did all this for me. You really do know how to surprise me."

Jeonghan laughed softly, hugging him back. "You deserve all of it, love. Every second of happiness."

The rest of the night was filled with laughter, cake, and dancing. The joy in Seungcheol's eyes reflected back onto Jeonghan, and they were surrounded by friends who were just as happy to see them thriving in their love.

As midnight passed, the celebration felt like a dream — not just for Seungcheol, but for Jeonghan as well. Every little detail had fallen into place, and in that moment, Jeonghan knew that no matter where life took them, this night would always remain in their hearts as a reminder of their love.

––––

Seungcheol’s eyes widened in shock as he took in the scene around him. They were standing at the edge of a track — the very track where the Grand Prix was going to be held later that day. He turned around, searching for Jeonghan, but the only ones around were their friends, standing in a group and giving him excited, knowing looks.

“Jeonghan?” Seungcheol asked, his voice full of confusion as he looked around, still trying to piece everything together.

One by one, their friends guided him toward the bleachers, and just as he began to ask more questions, he heard the familiar sound of footsteps behind him. He turned, and there, standing at the track's edge, was Jeonghan in full racing gear, his helmet in hand, a wide, proud smile on his ace.

Seungcheol stood frozen, his heart racing as he tried to process what was happening. His eyes scanned the track, then landed on Jeonghan standing next to him, only to suddenly find that he was surrounded by their friends, all of them grinning from ear to ear.

“Wait, is this… is this for real? Are you actually racing today?” Seungcheol asked, his voice trembling as if trying to grasp the surreal reality of it all.

Jeonghan’s eyes softened, the smile on his lips tender and unwavering. “Yes, baby. I’m racing today.”

Seungcheol took a step back, his mind reeling. “But… when did you even train for this? I thought… I thought you were just focused on everything else. Work… us…” His voice trailed off, confusion evident in his eyes.

Jeonghan glanced toward Minghao, who stood quietly nearby, his expression full of pride. “I’ve been training for a while now,” Jeonghan said, a hint of gratitude in his voice. “Minghao’s been with me through all of it. He helped me get back on track when I didn’t think I could.”

Seungcheol’s heart fluttered, but he still couldn’t shake the overwhelming question. “But why? Why now, Jeonghan? Why all of a sudden?”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, and his smile grew warm, the kind of smile that made Seungcheol feel like the entire world was standing still. “Do you remember the promise I made you, Cheol?” Jeonghan whispered, his voice low and full of emotion. “I promised that after I won this Grand Prix, I’d propose to you. I wanted to make that promise come true.”

Seungcheol’s chest tightened as the words struck deep, but it was the way Jeonghan spoke them, as if they were the most important thing in the world, that made his heart ache.

Jeonghan reached into his gear, pulling out a small, velvet box. The moment Seungcheol saw it, his breath hitched. His hands were shaking as Jeonghan placed the box in his palm with a gentle smile.

“For you to hold onto,” Jeonghan said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “When I come back, after winning, I’ll propose to you. So you keep it safe, okay?”

Tears welled up in Seungcheol’s eyes as the weight of everything crashed into him all at once. He couldn’t believe it. He couldn’t believe this was happening. He felt overwhelmed by the love, the promise, the future they were building together. His chest tightened, and before he could stop himself, he stepped forward, pulling Jeonghan into a kiss that was both desperate and full of love. It was a kiss that spoke of all the years they’d spent together, of the promises, the sacrifices, and the dreams they’d shared.

When they finally pulled away, their breaths mingling, Seungcheol’s eyes were wet, his voice trembling as he whispered, “Okay… Okay, Jeonghan-ah. I’ll wait for you. I’ll wait for you to come back, and I’ll wait for you to keep that promise. I love you.”

Jeonghan smiled through the tears that had begun to well in his own eyes. He cupped Seungcheol’s face tenderly, brushing his thumb across his cheek as he whispered, “I love you too, Cheol. Always. I’ll win this for you. For us.”

Their friends cheered from the sidelines, their joy and excitement echoing in Seungcheol’s heart, but all he could focus on was Jeonghan’s face, the man who had made everything feel so real, so beautiful.

As Jeonghan turned toward the starting line, the sound of the engines roaring to life felt distant, almost muted, in Seungcheol’s ears. His heart was in his throat, the weight of the velvet box in his hands reminding him of the future that waited.

Seungcheol held the box close to his chest, the promise of Jeonghan’s love and his future proposal keeping him grounded. No matter the outcome of the race, he knew that their love was already a victory in itself. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the love that surrounded him, a love that would always be enough.

“I’ll wait for you, Jeonghan-ah,” he whispered to himself, as the race began. And in hisheart, he knew he always would.

The roar of the crowd still echoed in Seungcheol’s ears as he stood there, eyes wide in disbelief. The race was over. Jeonghan had won—he had won. Seungcheol’s heart swelled with pride, his chest tight as he watched Jeonghan lift his fist in the air, his face alight with the joy of victory. The biggest race of his career, the one that had been the culmination of so many sacrifices and dreams, and Jeonghan had done it. He had won.

Seungcheol couldn’t contain the rush of emotions that flooded him. He screamed, a wild, uncontrollable cheer escaping him, joined by the shouts of their friends and the entire crowd. The weight of it all hit him like a tidal wave. Words couldn’t even begin to describe the pride he felt.

As soon as Jeonghan removed his helmet and his eyes locked with Seungcheol’s, Seungcheol’s heart skipped. Without thinking, he bolted down the bleachers, sprinting toward Jeonghan, desperate to be close to him. Jeonghan wasn’t far behind, running toward him with that same fierce determination, that same love that burned brighter than anything Seungcheol had ever known.

And when they finally met in the middle, Jeonghan swept him up into his arms, lifting him high as they both shouted, “We won!” The words echoed in Seungcheol’s soul. He buried his face in Jeonghan’s neck, laughing, crying, unable to stop the overwhelming rush of love he felt.

Seungcheol kissed him, deep and urgent, his lips trembling as he whispered, “You did it. You really did it, Jeonghan.”

Jeonghan smiled, his eyes glistening with tears of his own. “No,” he corrected softly, his voice thick with emotion, “we did it. Us.”

And the world seemed to fall away as the two of them stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, their hearts beating together in perfect harmony.

The ceremony that followed was a blur. Speech after speech. Cheers. Applause. Jeonghan receiving his medal, the trophy in his hand, the recognition he so richly deserved. But all Seungcheol could focus on was Jeonghan. The way his smile never wavered. The way his eyes softened when they met Seungcheol’s.

And then, in a moment that felt like it was happening in slow motion, Jeonghan leaned down and placed the medal around Seungcheol’s neck, his voice low and tender. “You’re my trophy, Cheol,” he whispered. “This is for you too.”

The words hit Seungcheol like a punch to the gut, but in the best way possible. He couldn’t even respond, his heart too full to speak. All he could do was lean into Jeonghan’s touch, his fingers brushing against the cool metal of the medal, feeling the weight of everything that had led them here.

After the ceremony, their friends crowded around them, congratulating Jeonghan, their voices full of joy and pride, but Seungcheol barely registered it. His mind was still on Jeonghan, on the way he looked at him, on the promise that had been kept.

Mingyu, Seungkwan, Soonyoung, Joshua, and the others wished them well and excused themselves, saying they’d prepare a celebratory dinner, leaving the two of them alone. But Seungcheol had no idea what was truly waiting for him.

Jeonghan smiled softly at him. “I’ll bring you with me after I change. Stay here, okay?”

Seungcheol nodded, his heart racing, unsure of what was going to happen next, but trusting Jeonghan completely. He sat outside the locker rooms, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the edge of the medal around his neck, feeling the weight of it.

A few moments later, Jeonghan emerged from the locker room, his helmet in hand, his racing gear replaced by something more casual. He walked toward Seungcheol, his eyes never leaving him.

Seungcheol couldn’t help but smile. “You really won, didn’t you?” he said, his voice soft but filled with awe.

Jeonghan grinned, the cocky spark in his eye that Seungcheol had always loved. “Of course I did,” he said, his voice full of warmth. “For you, Cheol, I’d win anything in this world.”

Seungcheol’s heart clenched at the sincerity in Jeonghan’s words. But then, doubt clouded his mind, and he couldn’t stop himself from asking, “Did you really do it just because of the promise? Or… or did you want it for yourself too?”

Jeonghan stopped, his eyes softening, and he reached out, pulling Seungcheol into his arms. “Both,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “Mostly for you… because it’s what you wanted too. But, Cheol, I wanted this for you.” His arms tightened around Seungcheol, pressing him close. “I wanted it for us. For our future.”

Seungcheol could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he gazed up at Jeonghan, unable to speak for a moment. The love, the raw, undeniable love that Jeonghan poured into him was overwhelming. It was everything Seungcheol had ever wanted—everything he had ever dreamed of.

Tears escaped, slipping down Seungcheol’s cheeks, and he chuckled through them, his voice breaking as he whispered, “Thank you. Thank you for everything, love.”

Jeonghan’s heart ached as he pressed his forehead to Seungcheol’s, his fingers softly brushing away the tears from Seungcheol’s face. “I’ll do anything for you, baby,” he whispered, his voice thick. “I’ll always do everything for you.”

Seungcheol’s hand pressed against Jeonghan’s chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. He closed his eyes, knowing that no matter what happened next, this moment—this love—was everything he had ever needed.

And then, with a soft smile, Seungcheol whispered, “I’ll wait for you… Always.”

Jeonghan’s heart clenched, and for a moment, it felt like time itself had stopped. He wanted to say something, anything, but the words didn’t come. He simply hugged Seungcheol closer, savoring the moment, the feeling of their hearts beating as one.

But deep inside, Jeonghan knew that no matter what the future held, he would always be here for Seungcheol. The promise was made, and it would be kept. No matter the cost.

He kissed Seungcheol’s forehead softly. “I’ll never leave you, Cheol. I promise.”

––––

Jeonghan stood by the bike, his gaze soft as he watched Seungcheol gently hold the small velvet box containing the ring. It had been with him for so long, too long, and now it was in Seungcheol’s hands.

“Keep it for now,” Jeonghan said, his voice thick with emotion. “I don’t trust myself to hold onto it right now.”

Seungcheol chuckled, his smile both tender and teasing. “You’ve kept it for almost three years now, Jeonghan. Don’t say it like that. You’ve done a good job keeping it safe.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, the memory of those years weighing heavily on him. “I brought it two and a half years ago, after I won the last race,” he said quietly, his eyes distant for a moment as he remembered the days before everything had changed. “I was going to propose to you then, but... well, everything happened. The accusations, the fall out, and I almost lost everything. I almost lost myself.”

Seungcheol’s eyes softened with understanding, and he stepped closer, his hand gently brushing against Jeonghan’s arm. “I know, Jeonghan. I know how hard it was. But you’ve come so far. We’ve come so far.”

Jeonghan’s heart ached at the thought of everything they had been through. The pain, the trials, the almost irreversible separation. “I couldn’t give it to you back then,” Jeonghan whispered. “It felt like I didn’t deserve to. But now... now I do.”

Seungcheol’s eyes glistened, though he kept his smile. “You’ve always deserved it, Jeonghan. You’ve always deserved me.”

Jeonghan’s gaze softened, his thumb gently brushing over the velvet of the box that Seungcheol now held. “Keep it for now... but I’ll give it to you properly tonight. I promise you that.”

Seungcheol smiled, his eyes full of understanding and affection. “It doesn’t matter how you give it to me, Jeonghan,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice making Jeonghan’s chest tighten. “As long as it’s you… That’s all that matters.”

Jeonghan laughed quietly, feeling the weight of the moment. “Of course it’s only going to be me. Don’t worry about that.”

They turned to the bike, and Jeonghan felt a moment of hesitation. There was only one helmet, and as much as he wanted to give it to Seungcheol, he knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. It was strictly against the rules to ride without a helmet, and he couldn’t take that risk.

“We should take a taxi instead,” Jeonghan said, his concern evident in his voice. “It’s safer that way.”

Seungcheol, however, just smiled, placing a hand on Jeonghan’s arm. “It’s fine. You always drive safe. I trust you.”

But Jeonghan still couldn’t shake the worry in the pit of his stomach. He glanced down at the helmet, then back at Seungcheol, his expression softening. “Still… just hug me tightly, okay?”

Seungcheol nodded without hesitation, his arms wrapping around Jeonghan’s waist as he climbed onto the bike behind him. Jeonghan couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief when Seungcheol’s arms slid around him, holding him close. It was as if, with Seungcheol there, everything would be okay.

Jeonghan tightened his grip on the handlebars, taking a deep breath before starting the engine. The sound roared to life, and for a moment, everything felt right. With Seungcheol holding onto him, with the ring safely in his possession, with their future ahead of them, Jeonghan felt like he could conquer anything.

He started driving, careful to obey the rules but still feeling that sense of freedom he had missed for so long. The wind rushed past them, and Jeonghan couldn’t help but smile, knowing that no matter what came next, he had Seungcheol by his side.

They were heading toward the place where their friends were waiting, where the night would unfold into something unforgettable. And for the first time in a long time, Jeonghan was certain that everything was going to be okay. Because tonight, he would finally give Seungcheol everything he had promised.

Forever.

----

The bike roared down the wet road, the rain falling like a veil, a soft, constant drizzle that blurred the world around them. Jeonghan’s hands gripped the handlebars, but his heart was racing for entirely different reasons. Something was wrong. The bike’s brakes weren’t responding. It was a sinking feeling he couldn’t ignore. The brakes had been fine during the race, so how had this happened?

How didn’t I notice?

The road was crowded, the bike moving too quickly. His eyes darted ahead, and it was too late. The truck—massive, looming—was coming, its headlights blinding through the haze of rain. His mind screamed, but his body was already moving on instinct. There was no time for fear, only one thought: Protect him.

“Cheol,” Jeonghan’s voice cracked, but he forced the words out, calm, almost too calm. “Take my helmet. Put it on.”

Seungcheol’s voice responded, confused. “What? Why?”

Jeonghan turned his head to meet his gaze, his eyes wide with urgency, but his voice steady. Stay calm. Stay focused.

“It’s drizzling, baby. You’ll get sick. Please, I don’t want you to—” He cut himself off, his chest tightening.

Seungcheol hesitated, his eyes searching Jeonghan’s face. But there was no time for questions.

“No, it’s fine,” Seungcheol murmured, always so considerate. “You’ll get wet.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, trying to hold onto some semblance of normalcy. “I’ve raced in the rain before, Cheol. I’ll be fine. I just need you to hold on tight.”

His hands moved instinctively, pulling Jeonghan's helmet off his head and placing it on his own.The helmet clicked into place on Seungcheol’s head, and Jeonghan felt a strange sense of relief, even amidst the panic. Seungcheol was safe for the moment. But the truck was too close now, and there was nothing more he could do.

The rain pounded harder, blurring their vision, the sound of it deafening.

Jeonghan’s breath hitched as he turned his head just slightly to look at Seungcheol, his voice a quiet whisper, barely audible over the rush of wind and water. “I love you... so much.”

Seungcheol’s reply was immediate, just as it always was, his voice a soothing balm in the chaos, “I love you too.”

And in that moment, with the world pressing in around them, Jeonghan felt every single moment of their time together replay in his mind. The way Seungcheol laughed when they first met, that gleam in his eyes that made Jeonghan’s heart skip a beat. The first time they held hands, the way it felt like a promise. The quiet nights in, the shared smiles, the warmth of his love in everything.

It hit him like a wave: Seungcheol, this beautiful, brilliant person—he was the best part of Jeonghan’s life. The only part that ever mattered. The memories flooded his mind, each one sharper than the last—his sweet giggles, his unwavering support, the way his face softened when he said, I’m here, Hannie. Always.

I never told you enough. I should’ve done more.

The truck was now only a foot away, its engine roaring louder than anything else in the world. Jeonghan’s heart raced, and he knew then, This is it. This is where it ends.

His body moved on instinct. He angled the bike, trying to shield Seungcheol with his own body, to protect him the only way he knew how. He pressed Seungcheol closer, cradling him in his arms. His lips parted, but no more words came. There was only the sound of his heartbeat, the weight of the rain, the blinding headlights of the truck.

He kissed the top of Seungcheol’s head, whispering the last thing he could in that moment, “I’m sorry... I couldn’t give you the proposal you deserved. I couldn’t give you everything I wanted to.”

Seungcheol was so still in his arms, so trusting, so perfect. Jeonghan’s throat tightened, and his eyes burned with unshed tears, but he closed them as he wrapped himself around Seungcheol, bracing for what was to come.

The crash was deafening. A sharp, jarring impact that sent everything into chaos. The bike, the truck, the rain—all of it shattered in an instant.

But through it all, Jeonghan held on, the only thing in his world now the precious body he cradled in his arms. He could feel Seungcheol’s breath, shallow, his heartbeat faint against his chest. But it was slowing, fading.

For a moment, the world went still. The pain wasn’t there. The fear wasn’t there. Only the warmth of Seungcheol, still held close to him, was real.

Jeonghan’s eyes fluttered closed, the last thing he saw being Seungcheol’s face. The face he had promised to spend forever with. The face that would haunt him for the rest of his life, even if he never got that forever.

“I love you, Cheol,” he whispered again, his voice barely audible, a tear slipping down his cheek. “I’m sorry... I couldn’t keep you safe. I couldn’t protect you...”

And with that, Jeonghan held onto Seungcheol for the very last time, letting the world stop around them, wishing he could’ve done more for the love of his life.

---

"Yoon Jeonghan Triumphs at Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, Left Fighting for His Life After Fatal Crash with Lover Moments After Victory"