Work Text:
December 2020.
Seoul, South Korea
Gi-hun had dragged In-ho away from peaceful, dreamless slumber thanks to his prescribed sleeping medication for no apparent reason other than 'it would be good for us to get out of the house’, but the moment they stepped outside, Gi-hun had regretted every single, minuscule moment. In-ho didn’t plan on leaving their apartment today. He had, unbeknownst to Gi-hun, deliberately turned off his alarm. But he did whatever made Gi-hun happy – In-ho was just like that, unable to resist the puppy dog eyes and sulking lip the older man resorted to until he gave in and said, ‘Yes, okay.’
What they had decided to leave the house for on what was, most apparently, the coldest day of the year so far was beyond In-ho’s current train of thought.
Yet Gi-hun didn’t seem to mind the cold… or so he let on.
Actually, he despised the cold.
Birds chirped their morning song as a thick frost dusted across the little greenery in the deserted park at the end of their street. Nobody in their right mind would willingly leave their house in this cold at the most ridiculous hour. There was little chance of the sun peeking through dense cloud as the pair continued to walk through the winding pathway. Even their thick winter coats, woollen scarves and gloves were not enough to shield them from the bitter air.
They walked a little closer next to each other that day, hoping that the shared heat between them would warm them up inside, igniting the fire their love usually sparked. “Can we just go home?” In-ho begged, lacing his fingers with the older mans as Gi-hun turned to him, cheeks glowing a maroon red as the cold nipped at his skin.
“No. We must get outside. You remember what your therapist said.” Therapy – In-ho’s not-so-favourite thing right now. He had booked appointments to deal with the weight of his family issues. But the majority of the time he ended up talking about something to help him escape entirely – or someone.
Seong Gi-hun – his boyfriend.
They had been in a relationship for over a year now and were living together whether In-ho liked it or not – or, quote-unquote, Gi-hun had moved himself in without permission.
It started with the small, unnoticeable things. He would add his favourite snacks to In-ho’s grocery cart when he wasn’t looking.
Then it was putting his chocolate milk in the fridge next to In-ho’s carton of dairy-free milk.
It eventually became bigger things. He left his toothbrush by the sink, then he left a pair of pyjamas ‘just in case’. He would come over late at night and conveniently fall asleep so In-ho had no choice but to let him stay…and then he stayed again, and again, until he just never left.
But In-ho, deep down, enjoyed his presence. It was grounding, comforting. It made him feel safe and secure. And sometimes his life problems didn’t seem like such a big deal when Gi-hun’s warmth surrounded him.
The path through the park took them to an almost equally deserted main street, their favourite coffee shop just up ahead. But as they finally accepted they would escape the coldness and into the warmth, a heavy fall of snow fell around them. Thick, chunky white flakes coated their clothing as they tried even harder to shield their faces. “Home now?” In-ho was almost begging at this point, his legs ready to guide him back to their apartment without a single word.
The nod was brief, but it was there. Truthfully, Gi-hun didn’t want to look up to avoid the powdery flakes ruining his hair he worked so hard on styling this morning (he brushed it with his favourite dry shampoo – no, In-ho’s dry shampoo). “Fine, let’s go home.” In-ho didn’t know why he was waiting for an invitation to return to his apartment but he did, satisfied with Gi-hun’s answer.
Backtracking their steps home was a lot speedier than the outward journey as the pair walked swiftly together. They were almost lucky that it was deserted; otherwise, Gi-hun was sure they would be mistaken for the local power-walking group.
Frozen, In-ho’s nimble fingers fiddled with his keys as he missed the lock several times, the cool metal already numbing his hands as the key slid into the lock finally, clicking with such relief. The pair wasted no time heading inside, taking in the warm air from the central heating, skin brushing together as they removed their outer layers.
“I’m freezing.” Gi-hun’s teeth chattered together as he sprawled out on the couch, hugging the pillow for warmth.
“I told you we should have stayed at home. You never listen.” In-ho laughed humorously as he stood against the doorframe, rubbing his hands together. He watched as his boyfriends face sulked, eyes drooping as he accepted the hard truth. There was the evidence outside the window, he should have kept them inside in the warmth for just this one non-eventful day.
“I’m sorry, love. I’m just trying to help you with your therapy.” He sunk back in the sofa just a little lower, guilt creeping up inside, almost eating him alive. But In-ho knew this. Gi-hun had always wanted to help. He stayed, he tried his best.
And that’s what In-ho loved the most about him.
“Are you still cold?” In-ho asked. A beat, followed by a firm nod. “Wait there.” In-ho disappeared from view as his soft footsteps trailed down the hall, into their bedroom. He returned seconds later with something folded precisely, draped over his forearm.
A black, knitted sweater.
In-ho’s knitted sweater.
“Put this on.” He tried to shove the material at Gi-hun, but his eyes went wide.
“You’re offering me a…your sweater?” Gi-hun was in disbelief. He had learned one thing during their relationship. In-ho wasn’t the one that liked to share. Whether it was food, shampoos or even clothing. It was down to Gi-hun to get his own damn items.
“It’s just a sweater, Gi-hun.” In-ho thrusted the material at him again. Gi-hun reached out with one hand, his fingers brushing against the soft fibres.
He wanted to take it so bad and make himself warm. No, that was incorrect.
He wanted to take it. Claim it as his.
“But it’s your sweater...you gave me your sweater.” It was soft, too soft. Comforting as each brush of the material released scents he knew too well. Notes of sandalwood, oak…and his aftershave. “It feels too expensive.” He tried to decline, but In-ho nudged the sweater into his chest.
“It’s polyester.” He rolled his eyes, unable to process the excitement a simple sweater had brought his boyfriend. “Now put it on before you catch a chill…or I change my mind.”
Gi-hun hesitated.
Silence.
“Since when did Hwang In-ho share his clothing?” It was almost a whisper, but In-ho couldn’t ignore the small tug at the corner of his lips. The warmth the sentence brought.
Yes, since when did he become the one to share?
“Since now. I do not fancy seeing my boyfriend die of hypothermia today.” He said simply, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal.
But it was a big deal to Gi-hun.
“Now put it on before I change my mind.” In-ho rolled his eyes as he plopped himself on the couch, seeing Gi-hun scurry to put on the material. He felt an instant warmth, and he wasn’t sure if it was to do with the sweater. It was oversized, baggy in most places. But the smell was intoxicating, instantly filling him with the warmth he needed right now. “Looks better on you.” In-ho mumbled, trying so hard not to make eye contact with the man.
“Is that an invitation to keep it?” Gi-hun raised an eyebrow, scooting just a tad closer to In-ho as he held out his arm, bringing him in for a tight embrace. Gi-hun rested his head against the younger man, the vibrations from his laughter strong, echoing in his ears.
Such a sweet sound.
“In your wildest dreams.” In-ho shook his head, displeased. But maybe he would let Gi-hun keep it. Because he couldn’t resist the way the sweater matched the deep pool of black in his eyes, or the way it drowned him, making him look even softer under the light of his – no their – living room.
Or because it wouldn’t take long for it to smell like him and he could steal it back.
But they both knew, in that moment, nothing else mattered. Because Gi-hun was warm and cosy.
And he was wearing his In-ho’s sweater. And In-ho had never been happier to share his clothing.