Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

I.

The café was too expensive, the air conditioning was trying to kill him, and Cha Eui-jae was already questioning why the hell he thought college was a good idea.

He stabbed his fork into a suspiciously dry muffin, glancing across the table at Lee Sa-young—who was sipping his iced americano like he wasn’t personally responsible for giving Eui-jae an identity crisis.

Sa-young was stupidly pretty. Like, ethereal manhwa villain with tragic backstory pretty. Pale skin, dark curls falling over his lashes, a beauty mark that should’ve been illegal, and violet eyes that looked like they were judging you even when he wasn’t looking at you.

Eui-jae hated him. In a fond, deeply confused, probably-concerning way.

“I still don’t get why you’re following me around,” Eui-jae muttered, mouth full of muffin.

Sa-young blinked, calm as ever. “You said I could.”

Eui-jae blinked back. “That was obviously sarcasm.”

“I don’t pick up on sarcasm.”

“Clearly.”

They sat in silence for a beat. Then Sa-young, perfectly relaxed, took another sip of his overpriced coffee.

And that’s when a senior passed their table. Some guy in a campus hoodie, clearly a social butterfly with way too much confidence and that terrifying upperclassman smile.

He did a double take, then smiled like he knew something they didn’t.

“You two are so cute together. New couple?”

Eui-jae choked on his muffin. Literally.

Violently.

Coughing, flailing, smacking his chest while trying not to die from oat-chunk-induced suffocation.

“WE’RE NOT—!” he hacked out, red-faced and teary-eyed.

The senior raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “Oh. My bad. You just looked like— y’know.” He waved vaguely between them, then disappeared with a wink.

Eui-jae stared after him, still mid-muffin-PTSD.

Then he turned back to Sa-young, who hadn’t reacted. At all.

“You’re not gonna deny it?”

Sa-young shrugged. “We’ve been together all week.”

Eui-jae threw his hands up. “We were literally assigned to the same orientation group.”

“I like your company.”

Eui-jae paused. Glared. Glared harder.

“Don’t say shit like that with your face looking like that,” he muttered, tugging his hood over his head. “People get the wrong idea.”

Sa-young tilted his head slightly. “What idea?”

“That we’re—!” Eui-jae cut himself off, whispering like the words might curse him. “Dating.”

Another long sip of iced americano. “But I like you.”

Eui-jae’s brain lagged like a bad internet connection.

“You like me as a friend,” he said, slowly.

Sa-young didn’t respond. Just blinked at him, unbothered.

Which was maybe worse than answering.

Eui-jae sank lower in his seat, hiding behind his coffee. His brain was doing the mental gymnastics of Olympic-level denial. This was fine. This was normal. They were just guys. Dudes. Besties.

No one ever died from being a little delusional.

That night, he got a DM from that same senior with a pic of him and Sa-young from across the café.

“You guys are seriously adorable. Couple goals fr fr.”

Eui-jae stared at his phone for a solid minute.

Then texted Sa-young:

YOU:  

u need to stop sitting so close to me  

THE FREAK:  

u didn’t move either  

YOU:  

WHY WOULD I MOVE?????!

YOU HAVE THE PERSONALITY OF A CAT WHO CLINGS

THE FREAK:  

u like cats tho??

Eui-jae turned off his phone. And screamed into his pillow.

II.

It was a Friday night. Which meant one thing: binge-watching horror movies until they both regretted it.

Sa-young had this whole setup in his dorm. Giant monitor, blackout curtains, his bed basically a nest of pillows and plushies (Eui-jae pretended not to notice that one of them lowkey resembled him), and a stash of mood lighting that made it look like a Twitch stream setup.

The only thing missing?

Snacks.

So now here they were, walking back from the convenience store with arms full of sugar, sodium, and absolutely zero shame.

“Why do you have three bags of shrimp chips,” Eui-jae asked, staring at the tower of snacks in Sa-young’s arms.

“You like them,” Sa-young replied, deadpan.

Eui-jae blinked. “Okay, weird that you remembered that but thanks.”

They turned the corner near the dorm entrance—and that’s when they passed a group of students, clustered under a flickering streetlamp like local witches summoning chaos.

It was a few girls and one guy from one of their shared lectures. Eui-jae vaguely remembered them from orientation, especially the one with the cat ear headband who always sat in the front row with a mechanical pencil collection.

They were whispering. Loudly.

“—I swear I saw them coming out of the same dorm room yesterday—”

“It’s totally them. The tall one’s always stoic, and the pretty one just stares at him like he’s dumb.”

“That’s so romantic, are you kidding? I want a man who glares at me like that.”

“Bet they’ve been dating since orientation. I KNEW it.”

Eui-jae, blissfully unaware, was focused on the fact that his soda was getting too cold and starting to sting his hand.

Sa-young, on the other hand, glanced at the group once, expression unreadable, then back at Eui-jae.

“Let’s go the long way,” he murmured, tugging lightly at Eui-jae’s sleeve to steer him toward the side door.

“Huh? Why?” Eui-jae blinked. “It’s literally right there.”

Sa-young gave him a flat look. “Your soda’s about to fall.”

“Oh—shit.” Eui-jae scrambled to readjust his grip. “Crisis averted.”

They walked off.

Behind them, the whispers resumed, now at a pitch that could shatter glass.

“SEE? They’re even holding hands. That’s couple shit right there.”

“they're so getting married.”

Back in the room, the lights were off, the movie was cued up, and they were halfway through a bag of popcorn when Eui-jae paused and said:

“Hey.”

Sa-young turned to him, one eyebrow raised, backlit by the monitor glow like some ghostly angel of death.

“Do people think we’re dating?” Eui-jae asked, completely straight-faced.

Sa-young tilted his head. “Why?”

“I dunno. People keep giving us weird looks. And like… that barista last week called you my boyfriend.”

Sa-young reached for another shrimp chip. “Mm.”

“That’s not a no,” Eui-jae narrowed his eyes. “Wait. Has anyone ever told you we looked like a couple?”

Sa-young shrugged. “A few times.”

“A FEW—?! You never said anything?!”

“You never asked.”

“SA-YOUNG.”

Sa-young crunched calmly on his chip, eyes on the screen. “Do you want people to know we’re dating?”

Eui-jae stared at him like he’d grown a second head. “No!”

“Okay,” Sa-young said.

Eui-jae’s brain short-circuited again.

He said nothing the rest of the movie, which was impressive considering someone literally got decapitated in the first twenty minutes.

Later that night, while brushing his teeth in Sa-young’s bathroom (yes, his bathroom, because apparently Eui-jae just lived there now), he glanced at his toothbrush in the cup next to Sa-young’s and paused.

It was labeled.

In Sa-young’s handwriting.

『 Hyung ♡』

Eui-jae stared at it for a full thirty seconds.

Then he rinsed, spit, and whispered to himself in the mirror:

“We’re not dating.”

If someone heard him, they'd have snickered. 

III.

Group projects were the devil’s work. Eui-jae was convinced.

There was no other explanation for why he was currently running on three hours of sleep, ten ounces of cold brew, and pure, unfiltered rage.

He sat in the campus library with his laptop open, Google Slides on one tab and a mental death list of his group members on another. The only person actually doing anything was sitting across from him, legs crossed, laptop perched like a cat in a sunbeam.

Lee Sa-young. Angel-faced. Demon-souled.

The others were "running late" or "sick" or had mysteriously gone radio silent in the group chat the second it was time to do actual work. So Eui-jae and Sa-young had just… taken over. Like usual.

“What color scheme should we go with?” Sa-young asked, like they were picking curtains and not making a last-minute pitch for a professor who graded like he personally hated joy.

“I don’t know, not purple again... that was traumatic,” Eui-jae muttered, tapping furiously.

Sa-young tilted his head. “I like purple.”

“That’s because you’re stupid. Last time, it looked like a poisonous Excel sheet.”

Sa-young smiled like that was the most romantic thing he’d ever heard.

Eui-jae didn’t notice. Because karma was already winding up a punch.

Across the library, one of the girls from their project group finally appeared. She tiptoed over with a sheepish smile and zero shame.

“Hey! Sorry I’m late, the bus wa—never mind. Hey, I just sent in the graphs. Also I sent you guys the new link to the doc since you two are basically doing it anyway.”

Eui-jae opened the link.

He paused.

Then blinked.

Then made a noise so sharp it scared a passing freshman.

“What the actual fuck is this title,” he hissed, pointing at the top of the shared doc.

Sa-young leaned over lazily to look.

"Final Presentation — Sa-young & his boyfriend"

Eui-jae full-body recoiled.

“OH MY GOD.”

The girl flinched. “Wait, aren’t you guys…?”

“NO?!” Eui-jae snapped, scandalized.

“Oh,” she said, wide-eyed. “I just assumed. You’re always together and, y’know…”

“You assumed we were dating because we make good slides?!”

“Well. And also the matching phone charms.”

Eui-jae looked down at his phone.

The tiny blue cat charm Sa-young gave him last month glinted in the light.

Sa-young’s had a purple cat. They linked together.

He had forgotten. He wanted to scream.

“We are not dating,” Eui-jae said firmly, gripping the desk like it owed him money. “We’re just… efficient.”

The girl blinked. “Right. Sorry.” Then under her breath, “Could’ve fooled me…”

Sa-young said absolutely nothing.

Just sipped his cold brew and smirked faintly like this was all so amusing.

Later that night, Eui-jae sent a voice note to his best friend from high school.

“Bro. I need you to tell me I’m not dating anyone.”

He got a voice reply five seconds later.

“You sound like someone who just found out they’re dating someone.”

“FUCK,” Eui-jae whisper-screamed into his blanket.

IV.

It was supposed to be a chill dinner.

Just ramen after midterms. Nothing dramatic. Nothing gay.

Well, maybe a little gay. But, like. The standard amount of gay that happens when your stupidly attractive not-boyfriend casually blows on your egg to cool it before handing it over with chopsticks and a gentle, “Don’t burn your mouth again.”

Eui-jae had ignored the warmth in his chest and chosen violence instead:

“You act like I’m some helpless kid.”

“You are.”

“Okay fuck off.”

Normal. Totally normal. Two bros, eating ramen, trading insults and side glances like they weren’t already an old married couple. Whatever.

Anyway.

He was back in his dorm, mid–ramen food coma, scrolling Instagram when the post hit.

It was from Sa-young’s account.

Just a picture.

A warm-lit, candid shot of him and Sa-young sitting side by side at the ramen shop. Eui-jae had his chin in one hand, smiling vaguely at something off-camera. Sa-young was mid-glance, looking right at him.

It looked romantic. Like, offensively romantic.

Caption:

“4 years. He still doesn’t finish the broth.”

♡♡ #Mine #bf

#bf.

#BF.

Eui-jae sat straight up like someone had hit him with a defibrillator.

The comments weren't any better: 

“YOU GUYS ARE COUPLE GOALS FR 😭”

“FOUR YEARS??”

“Wait Eui-jae is gay??”

“Wait wait. You guys were dating THIS WHOLE TIME?”

“This is the softest thing I’ve seen all week I’m gonna cry”

“What do you MEAN 4 years?? I thought you were just close roommates”

“I KNEW IT I CALLED IT IN 1ST YEAR”

Eui-jae slammed the app closed so fast his thumb cramped.

Then reopened it. Because panic.

Then closed it again.

Then screamed into his pillow.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN FOUR YEARS?!” he shouted, dragging himself out of bed and storming down the hall in his mismatched socks and emotional distress.

He burst into Sa-young’s dorm without knocking, holding up his phone like it was a subpoena.

Sa-young looked up from his desk. Calm. Dangerous.

“Explain this,” Eui-jae hissed, flinging his phone onto the bed.

Sa-young didn’t even blink. Just leaned over, glanced at the screen.

“Oh,” he said simply. “Do you want me to change it to five?”

“NO I DO NOT WANT YOU TO CHANGE IT TO FIVE—” Eui-jae clutched his hair, already spiraling. “WHY WOULD YOU POST THAT—WHY WOULD YOU—FOUR YEARS?!”

Sa-young just nodded.

NODDED.

LIKE THAT WAS A NORMAL THING TO DO IN THIS SITUATION.

Eui-jae was pacing now. Flailing. Full meltdown mode. “We’re NOT dating!! That’s not a thing that’s happening!! We’re friends! FRIENDS!!” He gestured wildly. “I don’t even like you like that!”

Sa-young just tilted his head, bored. “Okay.”

“‘OKAY’??”

“You said that last time too.”

Eui-jae stopped mid-panic. “Last time?”

Sa-young looked at him. “When you kissed me.”

Eui-jae’s soul exited his body.

“WHICH TIME??”

Sa-young blinked slowly. “You were drunk. It was after midterms.”

Eui-jae made a strangled noise that was half gasp, half scream, and collapsed face-first onto the bed.

His phone buzzed.

Another comment on the post.

“Real love. I hope I find someone like this 😭💘”

He screamed again.

Sa-young just kept typing on his laptop, unfazed.

“…You want me to take it down?” he asked mildly.

Eui-jae groaned into the sheets. “YES.”

Sa-young paused. “Okay.”

He did not take it down.

V. 

It started like any other Tuesday: with Eui-jae showing up to class five minutes late, out of breath, and clutching a bubble tea he absolutely didn’t have time to buy. He was halfway into his seat when a girl from the row behind them called out—

“Hey! I think this is yours!”

She held up a navy hoodie with a little bleach stain on the cuff and the tiniest embroidered lemon on the hood. Eui-jae squinted. Yeah, that was definitely his.

Except she handed it to Sa-young.

“Sorry,” she said sheepishly, smiling. “I grabbed the wrong one from the hook in the studio. I figured it was yours since you’re always wearing each other’s stuff.”

She laughed and walked off before either of them could respond.

Eui-jae turned his whole body to look at Sa-young. Arms crossed. Expression loaded.

You know the one.

“Okay. Why does your closet have more of my clothes than I do?”

Sa-young looked entirely unbothered. He shrugged, pulling the hoodie onto his lap. “Because your hoodies smell like citrus and bad decisions.”

Eui-jae blinked. “Is that a yes or a cry for help?”

Sa-young paused, looked up at him slowly. “...Both.”

After class, Eui-jae followed Sa-young back to his dorm because apparently that’s just what they did now. No one questioned it. Not even him. He hated that.

(He didn’t hate that.)

He sat on the bed, arms folded, while Sa-young started sorting laundry.

“You realize I’ve found three of my shirts, one pair of sweats, and my socks in your drawers.”

“You said I could borrow them.”

“That was last semester. I thought you meant, like, once. Not permanently relocate them.”

Sa-young held up a black hoodie. “This one’s yours too, right?”

“That’s literally what I wore to my high school graduation.”

Sa-young nodded and tossed it onto his bed.

Eui-jae stared.

“…Are we dating?”

Sa-young looked over like it was the stupidest question he’d heard all week. “Do you want to?”

“I’m ASKING if we are. Not if I want to. Why does everyone think we’re dating?!”

Sa-young thought for a moment. Then:

“You sleep here more than your own dorm.”

“That’s because your bed has a mattress topper!”

“You labeled your toothbrush here.”

“You labeled it for me!”

“You call me when you’re sad.”

“THAT’S NOT A—okay shut up—”

“You wear my clothes, too.”

“Your sweaters are huge and soft and that is not the point.”

“You kissed me after your finals.”

“THAT WAS A STRESS RESPONSE.”

“You said I’m the only one who makes you feel calm.”

“OH MY GOD I NEED TO STOP TALKING.”

Eui-jae faceplanted into Sa-young’s bed with a groan that could summon demons. There was a long, long silence.

Then:

“…Wait,” he mumbled into the sheets. “You said citrus and bad decisions.”

Sa-young turned from folding laundry. “Mm?”

“That’s what you said my hoodies smell like.”

“Yeah.”

Eui-jae looked up. “What kind of cologne smells like bad decisions.”

Sa-young blinked. “I didn’t say your cologne.”

Pause.

Beat.

Eye contact.

“I meant you.”

Eui-jae stared at him.

Sa-young blinked slowly. “It’s a compliment.”

It was not a compliment.

Or maybe it was.

Eui-jae was going to need to lie down. Forever.

Later that night, Eui-jae opened his closet back in his own dorm and stared blankly at the half-empty row where all his favorite clothes used to be.

He texted Sa-young.

YOU:

did u take my striped sweater too

THE FREAK:

no u gave it to me

u said “here u go, u cold bastard”

YOU:

fuck i did say that

.....

okay

fine

but i’m taking back the lemon hoodie

THE FREAK:

no

he lives here now

+1. 

It started with soju. Like all tragedies do.

Eui-jae didn’t even remember how much he drank. Just that it was Sa-young’s birthday (or close enough, Sa-young never cared about dates, but Eui-jae remembered) and someone brought a drinking game that should’ve been banned for being emotionally compromising.

Somewhere between round 3 and 7, Eui-jae started leaning.

On Sa-young.

Literally.

His head was on his shoulder. At one point, his fingers were in Sa-young’s hair. At some point, he may have nuzzled into his hoodie and whispered something about how soft he smelled.

Classic drunk Eui-jae behavior. Nothing new.

But then, like always, it escalated.

“Why are you so pretty,” he slurred, barely audible.

Sa-young didn’t say anything.

“Like,” Eui-jae continued, fingers now tracing Sa-young’s wrist lazily, “if I was dating you, I’d never shut up about it.”

“You are,” Sa-young said quietly.

Eui-jae giggled. “Haha. Yeah.”

Then he kissed him.

Slow. Soft. Familiar. Like they’d done it a hundred times before.

Because they had.

But this time felt different.

Eui-jae’s fingers slid into Sa-young’s hair again, slow and careful, like he was memorizing the shape of him. He tilted his head just enough to deepen the kiss, not rushed, not sloppy, just there, present, lips brushing like a promise they kept remaking in silence.

“You smell so good,” he whispered against Sa-young’s lips between kisses, breath warm and full of laughter. “Like... like fabric softener and heartbreak.”

Sa-young huffed a soft laugh, barely a sound. Eui-jae smiled like he’d won something.

“I love your stupid face,” he added, pressing his forehead to Sa-young’s. His hand was still tangled in dark hair, his other arm curling loosely around Sa-young’s waist like it was instinct.

“Wish I was brave enough to do this when I’m not drunk,” he muttered.

Sa-young just held still, watching him with eyes that were far too fond for someone allegedly being kissed by mistake.

“Wouldn’t even blame you if you punched me,” Eui-jae mumbled, eyes fluttering half-closed. “I always do this. Kiss you. Forget in the morning. You probably think I’m the biggest asshole—”

“It’s fine, I know you’re shy,” Sa-young said, barely louder than a breath.

But Eui-jae didn’t hear it. He was too busy leaning in again, kissing him one more time, softer now, with less laughter and more weight. More ache. More want.

Like part of him knew.

***

Eui-jae woke up to the taste of death in his mouth and a hoodie that didn’t belong to him.

The room was too bright. His head was pounding like someone had DJed inside his skull with a brick. And his mouth was dry, desert-level dry. But worse than the physical pain was the vague sense of dread crawling over him like a cold sweat.

He blinked slowly. There was a weight on his arm.

He turned his head—Sa-young. Asleep. Peaceful. Wearing his hoodie.

Eui-jae looked down.

He was wearing Sa-young’s hoodie.

Oh no.

Flashbacks came in glitchy little fragments: soju shots, the drinking game, Sa-young’s laugh, the smell of fabric softener, kissing.... Oh god. He kissed him again, didn’t he?

He didn’t just kiss him. He kissed him like a boyfriend.

He kissed him like someone in love.

Which he wasn’t. Obviously. Definitely. Right??

“...Shit,” he whispered to himself.

That’s when Sa-young stirred.

Still half-asleep, Sa-young let out a soft hum and cracked one eye open. His voice was hoarse, groggy, and unfairly calm. “Morning.”

Eui-jae sat up like he’d been electrocuted. “M-Morning.”

“You okay?” Sa-young asked, lips tugging into a sleepy smile.

“I—I think so? Maybe. Do you... uh...” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember last night?”

Sa-young blinked slowly. “Of course.”

Eui-jae waited. Waited for the judgment. The punchline. The what the hell was that, you lunatic.

But Sa-young just sat up, stretching a little. “You always get affectionate when you drink.”

“...Right,” Eui-jae said, blinking rapidly. “Okay. Cool. Normal. We love patterns.”

A pause.

Then, “You kissed me again.”

Eui-jae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”

“Why not?” Sa-young asked, like it was the most normal question on Earth. “You do it every time.”

Eui-jae froze. “That’s not the flex you think it is.”

Another beat of silence.

Then, Sa-young tilted his head slightly. “Can I ask something?”

“Sure,” Eui-jae said weakly, emotionally preparing for whatever bullet was about to hit.

Sa-young’s voice was quiet, not accusing, just... curious.

“Why do you only kiss me when you’re tipsy?”

Eui-jae blinked. “What?”

“You’ve been doing it since freshman year,” Sa-young said, like he was talking about the weather. “You never bring it up the next day. So I thought... maybe you were shy.”

Shy??

“Wait.” Eui-jae’s brain finally caught up. “Since freshman year??”

“Yeah.”

“Sa-young.” His voice cracked a little. “How many times have I kissed you?”

Sa-young did a little mental math. “Twenty? Twenty-one?”

Eui-jae stared at him like he was hallucinating. “TWENTY-ONE?!”

“Well, you were single every time. I figured it was safe to assume—”

“ASSUME WHAT.”

Sa-young blinked innocently. “That we were dating.”

Eui-jae’s soul left his body.

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE DATING?”

There was a long pause. Sa-young looked confused now. “You confessed. First time you kissed me. You said you were in love with me.”

Eui-jae was about to deny it, but then he remembered. That one time. Sophomore year. The birthday karaoke night. The bottle of peach makgeolli. The “I love you, y’know. You’re, like, my person.”

Oh god.

“Y-You thought that was real?” he whispered.

Sa-young just tilted his head again, calmly sipping from his water bottle. “Wasn’t it?”

Eui-jae stared at him, mind absolutely short-circuiting. “Sa-young. I thought we were just friends.”

“Oh.” Sa-young blinked. “So all the kissing and cuddling and sharing clothes and holding hands and sleeping over and you calling me ‘baby’ that one time, none of that meant anything?”

Eui-jae looked like someone had just unplugged his brain. 

“I thought we were really close friends! I thought you were just... letting me be weird!”

“You kissed me six times last semester,” Sa-young said, brow furrowing. “And I picked out your toothbrush color.”

“THAT’S NOT A RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE!”

Silence.

Then, softly, with a tiny pout, “I thought it was.”

Eui-jae flopped back into the bed and covered his face with both hands. He groaned into the pillow.

“This is it,” he mumbled. “This is how I die. From stupid. Death by dumbassery.”

Sa-young sat cross-legged on the bed beside him, water bottle in one hand, the other resting on his knee. Calm. Too calm. Suspiciously calm.

“…You good?” he asked softly.

Eui-jae turned his face just enough to glare at him with one bleary eye. “You thought we were dating. For four years. And you didn’t think to, I don’t know, mention it?”

“You were the one doing the kissing,” Sa-young replied with an infuriating shrug. “You called me ‘baby.’ That’s couple behavior.”

“That was once! And I was drunk!”

“You bought me skincare on White Day.”

“I buy everyone skincare—”

“You called me your favorite person.”

“Everyone’s my favorite person when I’m drunk!”

“You sleep on my chest like it’s a pillow.”

“It’s a nice chest!”

Silence.

Eui-jae groaned again and dragged the blanket over his head.

Sa-young leaned in, quiet now. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“No,” came the muffled response from under the blanket. “I wanna crawl inside a sock drawer and live there. Like a shameful gremlin.”

There was a soft laugh. A little shift on the bed.

Then a hand gently tugged the blanket down. “Hey.”

Eui-jae peeked out. Sa-young was a little closer now, legs folded, face tilted, eyes softer than they had any right to be.

“I’m not mad,” Sa-young said.

“I am,” Eui-jae replied. “At me.”

“That’s fair.”

Another pause.

Then, “Do you… want to break up?”

Eui-jae sat up so fast it looked like he’d been tasered. “WHAT?!”

Sa-young blinked. “Well. Technically, if we’ve been dating this whole time, and now you say we weren’t, that means we either start now or break up. Right?”

Eui-jae opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.

“No,” he said.

“...No?”

“No!! I mean—yes?! I mean—I don’t want to break up! That’s not—I mean, I didn’t know we were dating, but now that I do know, I—shit, I need to think—”

He flopped again. Hit the pillow face-first this time. Sa-young watched with the patience of someone used to his nonsense.

There was a beat of silence.

Then, muffled into the pillow, “Do I want to date you?”

Sa-young blinked. “I mean. I thought you did.”

Eui-jae rolled onto his back and stared at the ceiling like it owed him emotional clarity.

“…Do I want to date you,” he repeated, out loud this time, like he was testing the words.

He thought about Sa-young’s laugh. About the way he always pulled Eui-jae’s hood up when he fell asleep on the bus. About the way he waited for him after missions with hot food and band-aids. About how Eui-jae always called him first. About the hoodie-sharing. The hand-holding. The twenty-one kisses.

“…Yeah,” he said finally, voice small.

Sa-young tilted his head.

Eui-jae turned to look at him.

“I think I already do,” he admitted, like the truth tasted strange in his mouth. “Like, not just the drunk stuff. I think… I’ve been doing boyfriend shit without realizing it. Because it was you.”

Sa-young’s face didn’t change much—but his eyes got that warm, fond look again. The one that made Eui-jae feel like the center of a solar system he didn’t know he was in.

“Okay,” Sa-young said, soft. “So… do you wanna make it official?”

Eui-jae swallowed. “Like. With words?”

“With words.”

“…Okay.” He sat up again, still a little pale, still wildly sleep-tousled and emotionally unstable, but trying.

He cleared his throat, looked Sa-young in the eye, and said:

“I want to date you. For real. Like. Not just on accident.”

Sa-young smiled. Finally, a real one, wide and boyish and stupidly pretty.

“Cool,” he said.

Then he leaned forward and kissed him, not drunk, not mistaken, not vague, just a kiss, real and warm and completely conscious.

And this time, Eui-jae kissed him back like someone who knew exactly what he was doing.

Bonus: 

Three months later...

Three months later, and no one believed them when they said they just started dating.

Absolutely no one.

“You shared 21 kisses. That’s not an accident.”

—Seo Min-gi flatly, while microwaving leftover jjajangmyeon.

“He wore your scarf for, like, a year. I thought it was a weird kink thing.”

—Kang Ji-soo, not even looking up from her notes.

“You licked icing off his finger in public.”

—Bae Won-woo, traumatized since sophomore year.

“You literally said ‘he’s my person’ during beer pong.”

—That one NPC from their stats class, still emotionally scarred.

“You have a toothbrush at his place. And a drawer.”

—Random classmate Eui-jae doesn’t even know by name.

Not even the new barista, who had been working at the café for one week and somehow still understood the situation better than Eui-jae did.

She watched with dead, judgmental eyes as Sa-young casually took the straw out of Eui-jae’s drink, bit the wrapper off, and stuck it in like he did this every damn day.

“That’s a boyfriend thing,” she muttered under her breath.

Eui-jae slammed a hand on the counter, eyes bloodshot with betrayal and frustration.

“WE HAVE BEEN OFFICIALLY DATING FOR THREE MONTHS.”

The barista raised an eyebrow. “...Sure.”

Sa-young, meanwhile, took a sip of his drink with that same smug calmness he wore like cologne. “It’s been four years and three months.”

Eui-jae turned on him like he was about to throw hands. “You need to STOP saying th—”

“Four years, three months, twelve days.”

“OH MY GOD.” 

Chapter Text

I.

The café was overpriced. The AC was on some Siberian death mode. And Sa-young was deeply satisfied.

Because across the tiny table, scowling into a muffin like it personally offended him, was his boyfriend.

Cha Eui-jae.

(He wouldn't say "boyfriend" out loud. That wasn't their thing. But still. Labels didn't matter when you'd already built a life around someone.)

Eui-jae looked like he wanted to fight the pastry and maybe the air itself. Sa-young watched him calmly over his americano, letting the ice melt slowly against his tongue. He didn't even really like coffee. But Eui-jae drank it. So.

Across from him, Eui-jae sighed and stabbed the muffin like it owed him money.

"I still don't get why you're following me around," he muttered, crumbs flying.

Sa-young blinked. "You said I could."

He had. Drunkenly. Four years ago. With his face buried in Sa-young's neck and his hands fisted in Sa-young's hoodie, whispering don't leave me.

Eui-jae blinked back. "That was sarcasm."

Sa-young shrugged slightly. "I don't pick up on sarcasm."

That was a lie. He picked up on everything. He just didn't care when it came to Eui-jae. If Eui-jae said "go away," but reached out to tug his sleeve right after, Sa-young would stay. Every time.

"Clearly," Eui-jae muttered.

The silence after wasn't awkward. It never was. Sa-young liked watching him sulk. It was comforting. Familiar. Like background noise in his apartment or Eui-jae's socks mysteriously appearing in his laundry.

Then someone passed by. Some upperclassman with one of those I think I know everything because I'm legally allowed to drink auras.

Sa-young noticed him glance over.

Then double-take.

And smile.

"You two are so cute together. New couple?"

Eui-jae exploded like a toaster fire.

Coughing. Choking. Full muffin betrayal.

Sa-young sat still, sipping his drink.

This happened sometimes. (It's a lie, this happens a lot more than sometimes.)

He waited patiently while Eui-jae hacked up what sounded like emotional damage and whole oats. People made assumptions a lot. And they weren't wrong. So Sa-young didn't correct them.

"We're not—!" Eui-jae wheezed, red-faced and dramatic.

The senior just winked and vanished.

Eui-jae spun back to him with a glare. "You're not gonna deny it?"

Sa-young blinked slowly. "We've been together all week."

He meant it literally. But also… not. Four years was longer than a week. But Eui-jae didn't like clingy, so Sa-young didn't say things like anniversary or boyfriend. He just showed up. Stayed close. Made sure he was the person Eui-jae called when he needed something even if Eui-jae didn't always notice.

"We were assigned to the same orientation group," Eui-jae snapped.

"I like your company," Sa-young said honestly.

That was the truth. And it should've been obvious. But Eui-jae tugged his hoodie up like he was trying to disappear.

"Don't say shit like that with your face looking like that," he muttered. "People get the wrong idea."

Sa-young tilted his head. "What idea?"

"That we're—!" Eui-jae made a helpless noise and leaned forward like the words tasted wrong. "Dating."

Sa-young took another sip. "But I like you."

Which… felt too plain when he said it out loud. It was more than like. It was I've been in love with you since you drunkenly told me I make you feel safe, but Sa-young had learned not to press.

Eui-jae stared at him like he was short-circuiting. Then said, too slowly, like explaining to a toddler, "You like me as a friend."

Sa-young didn't answer.

Because that wasn't the truth.

And he wasn't going to lie.

Later that night, he got a text. Eui-jae, in his usual all-caps, full-panic style.

My Sweet Angel Baby ♡♡♡:

u need to stop sitting so close to me

YOU:

u didn't move either

My Sweet Angel Baby ♡♡♡:

WHY WOULD I MOVE?????!

YOU HAVE THE PERSONALITY OF A CAT WHO CLINGS

YOU:

u like cats tho?

He didn't get a reply after that.

Which usually meant Eui-jae was curled up in bed, glaring at the ceiling and screaming into something plush.

Sa-young stared at the messages for a moment, then smiled faintly. A little tired, a little fond.

Eui-jae never said I love you when he was sober. But he never pushed Sa-young away either.

And honestly? That felt close enough. For now.

II. 

Friday nights were sacred.

Not because of parties or drinking or whatever college was supposed to be about. No, for Sa-young, Fridays meant one thing: horror movie night with his boyfriend.

(Again, he didn't say "boyfriend" out loud. But after four years of movie nights, toothbrush sharing, and sleepy cuddle pile-ups? The label felt earned.)

His dorm was already prepped. Monitor set up. Mood lights on. Bed fluffed to look like it was trying to emotionally support someone. (It was. Him. It was emotionally supporting him.)

Now they were on snack duty. Walking back from the convenience store, arms overloaded with the kind of junk food that should come with a warning label.

"Why do you have three bags of shrimp chips?" Eui-jae asked, looking scandalized.

"You like them," Sa-young said.

He didn't mean for it to sound intense. But Eui-jae blinked at him like Sa-young had just recited his social security number.

"Okay, weird that you remembered that but thanks."

Sa-young didn't say I remember everything about you. He just adjusted the bag in his arm and followed Eui-jae around the corner—

Right into chaos.

A cluster of students stood under the flickering streetlamp like urban legend NPCs. They were whispering. Loudly. One girl had cat ears. Another was holding an energy drink like a weapon.

Sa-young knew what this was.

Rumors.

"—I swear I saw them coming out of the same dorm room yesterday—"

"It's totally them. The tall one's always stoic, and the pretty one just stares at him like he's dumb."

"That's so romantic, are you kidding? I want a man who glares at me like that."

"Bet they've been dating since orientation. I KNEW it."

Sa-young didn't flinch. He just glanced at them once and then turned to Eui-jae. Still oblivious. Still focused on his stupid soda like it was the main character.

"Let's go the long way," he murmured, tugging Eui-jae's sleeve lightly. Not enough to startle. Just enough to steer.

"Huh? Why?" Eui-jae blinked.

"Your soda's about to fall," he said. Easiest lie of the night.

Eui-jae panicked, fumbled, and saved the bottle like a hero. "Crisis averted."

Sa-young didn't look back, but he could feel the whispers at his back like static. And then—

"SEE? They're even holding hands."

"They're so getting married."

Sa-young didn't smile, but a small part of him filed it away. He wouldn't say it, but he liked being mistaken for Eui-jae's something. Boyfriend. Partner. Soulmate. Whatever.

Back in the dorm, everything fell into place like always. Popcorn. Blankets. Eui-jae halfway under Sa-young's comforter, as if this wasn't technically his bed.

Twenty minutes in, Eui-jae paused mid-bite and said:

"Hey."

Sa-young turned, backlit by the screen's glow. "Mm?"

"Do people think we're dating?"

Sa-young tilted his head slightly. "Why?"

"I dunno. People keep giving us weird looks. And like… that barista last week called you my boyfriend."

He remembered. It had been the best part of Sa-young's week. He'd replayed the moment at least three times while folding laundry.

"Mm," Sa-young said, reaching for a shrimp chip.

"That's not a no," Eui-jae said, suspiciously.

Sa-young blinked at the screen.

"Wait," Eui-jae continued. "Has anyone ever told you we looked like a couple?"

Sa-young shrugged. "A few times."

"A FEW—?! You never said anything?!"

"You never asked," he said simply.

"SA-YOUNG."

There it was. That loud, dramatic, deeply Eui-jae tone. Sa-young glanced sideways. There was popcorn in his hair. He didn't tell him.

Instead he said, "Do you want people to know we're dating?"

And then watched the confusion spiral across Eui-jae's face like a slow-loading webpage.

"…No!" he answered, like it was obvious.

"Okay," Sa-young said.

He didn't mean it.

The rest of the movie played out in silence. Someone got decapitated. Someone screamed. Someone cried. None of it was Eui-jae. Which was saying something.

Later, Sa-young heard the familiar shuffle of footsteps in his bathroom. He didn't move from his spot on the bed. Just waited, quietly, eyes on the screen.

Eui-jae was brushing his teeth.

His toothbrush, the one that had lived there for months, was in the cup next to Sa-young's.

Labeled, of course. Just in case someone forgot. In his handwriting:

『 Hyung ♡』

He heard the pause.

He imagined the stare.

He smiled faintly, to himself.

In the mirror, Eui-jae probably whispered something absurd like we're not dating. Like a man praying denial would save him.

Sa-young didn't correct him.

He just turned up the volume, leaned back into the pillows, and waited for his boyfriend to come to bed.

III. 

Group projects were hell.

But if he had to suffer in hell, Sa-young figured this was the best-case scenario.

Because he was suffering with Eui-jae, who, while currently vibrating with rage and cold brew, looked unfairly attractive in his hoodie and sleep-deprived fury.

They were camped out in the library, monopolizing an entire table. Everyone else in their group had abandoned ship like cowards. Sa-young didn't mind. It meant he got Eui-jae to himself.

(He liked that. The part where it was them fixing everything. Just them.)

"What color scheme should we go with?" Sa-young asked, casually shifting in his seat.

Across the table, Eui-jae looked like he was plotting a group member's assassination. "I don't know, not purple again... that was traumatic."

Sa-young smiled slightly. "I like purple."

"That's because you're stupid," Eui-jae said, eyes still glued to his screen. "Last time, it looked like a poisonous Excel sheet."

Sa-young blinked. Then smiled wider.

That was a love confession in Eui-jae-speak. He just didn't know it.

The moment didn't last. Because of course, just as they hit their rhythm, a group member reappeared like a summoned ghost.

"Hey! Sorry I'm late, the bus wa—never mind. Hey, I just sent in the graphs. Also I sent you guys the new link to the doc since you two are basically doing it anyway."

Sa-young already knew this was going to be something.

But he still leaned in to look when Eui-jae opened the doc and made a noise that sounded like someone being exorcised.

"What the actual fuck is this title?"

Sa-young sipped his drink, perfectly calm.

"Final Presentation — Sa-young & his boyfriend."

He waited.

One second. Two.

Explosion.

"OH MY GOD."

The girl blinked. "Wait, aren't you guys…?"

"NO?!" Eui-jae snapped so hard it echoed.

Sa-young didn't flinch. Just slowly leaned back again, watching it all unfold like the quiet villain in a drama. Eui-jae was unraveling, and Sa-young had popcorn (cold brew) and a front-row seat.

"Oh," the girl said. "I just assumed. You're always together and, y'know…"

"You assumed we were dating because we make good slides?!"

"Well. And also the matching phone charms."

Ah. That part.

Sa-young reached for his phone, let his thumb brush over the purple cat charm. It clicked together with Eui-jae's, he'd made sure of it. Ordered them off a site that specialized in "couple" accessories, even though he'd played it off like it was a random gift.

He hadn't forgotten. Not for one second.

He looked over at Eui-jae, who was now staring down at his charm like it had betrayed him.

Sa-young said nothing.

Let the silence do the work.

Eui-jae muttered, "We are not dating. We're just… efficient."

The girl nodded slowly. "Right. Sorry." Then, quieter: "Could've fooled me…"

Sa-young didn't correct her. He wasn't in a rush. Eui-jae would catch up eventually.

Soon, he thought. Soon Eui-jae would figure it out.

And Sa-young would be right here waiting when he did.

IV. 

It was supposed to be a chill dinner.

Just ramen after midterms. Nothing dramatic. Nothing worth making a fuss about.

Except maybe the way Eui-jae looked under the warm shop lights, eyes half-lidded, hoodie too big, lips pink from the broth. Except maybe the part where Sa-young had to blow on his egg to cool it before offering it over with a quiet, "Don't burn your mouth again."

That was normal though.

Right?

"You act like I'm some helpless kid," Eui-jae muttered, taking the egg anyway.

"You are."

"Okay fuck off."

Sa-young smiled. That, too, was normal. Their love language was bickering and boundary-less intimacy. Everyone else just didn't get it.

Later, after he'd walked Eui-jae home and made sure he'd actually locked the door (he never did), Sa-young returned to his own dorm. Full stomach. Warm chest. Quiet kind of happy.

He scrolled through his camera roll absentmindedly. Stopped at the photo he'd taken earlier. It wasn't even posed, just a soft, unguarded moment where Eui-jae was smiling faintly at something off-screen, and Sa-young was mid-glance, looking straight at him.

It made something ache behind his ribs.

So he posted it.

"4 years. He still doesn't finish the broth.♡♡"

#Mine #bf

He tossed his phone on the bed and went to brush his teeth.

The buzzing started while he was flossing.

But it wasn't just notifications from the post.

His phone was ringing.

He glanced at the caller ID: Mom. 

Sa-young picked up, still holding his toothbrush.

"Hi, Mom."

"Sa-young-ah! I just saw your post. You two look so happy."

Sa-young blinked. His mother followed his Instagram. He'd forgotten about that. "Oh. Thanks."

"You know," his mom continued, voice warm and fond, "you should bring your boy home for dinner soon. I've been wanting to meet him properly. It's been four years, hasn't it?"

Sa-young paused, toothbrush halfway to his mouth. "You... want me to bring Eui-jae?"

"Of course! He's part of the family now, isn't he? I saw how you look at him in all those photos you never post but I see anyway." She laughed. "A mother knows these things."

Sa-young felt something soft and complicated settle in his chest. "Okay. I'll ask him."

"Good. And Sa-young?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm proud of you. You both seem very happy together."

After they hung up, Sa-young stared at his phone for a moment. Then he smiled - really smiled, warm and genuine.

His mom liked Eui-jae. Wanted to meet him. Officially.

That felt... significant.

By the time he came back from brushing his teeth, his notifications had gone nuclear.

Comments. Likes. Reposts.

All screaming.

"YOU GUYS ARE COUPLE GOALS FR 😭"

"WAIT EUI-JAE IS GAY??"

"THIS IS THE SOFTEST THING I'VE EVER SEEN"

"YOU'VE BEEN DATING FOR FOUR YEARS??"

"I KNEW IT!!"

He tilted his head. Huh. That was a lot of attention. But nothing wrong, necessarily. Just people finally catching up.

Then the door burst open like a hurricane in mismatched socks.

Eui-jae charged in, phone raised like a weapon. "EXPLAIN THIS."

Sa-young looked up calmly from his desk. His laptop screen still glowed. Half a paragraph left on his essay.

He leaned forward slightly, glanced at the post. "Oh. Do you want me to change it to five?"

Eui-jae short-circuited.

"NO I DO NOT WANT YOU TO CHANGE IT TO FIVE—" he yelled, tugging at his hair. "WHY WOULD YOU POST THAT, WHY WOULD YOU, FOUR YEARS?!"

Sa-young nodded. As in: yes. That is correct. That is the timeline.

Eui-jae started pacing like a man possessed.

"We're NOT dating!! That's not a thing that's happening!! We're friends! FRIENDS!! I don't even like you like that!"

Sa-young tilted his head slightly, bored. "Okay."

"'OKAY'???"

"You said that last time too."

That got him.

Eui-jae froze mid-panic spiral. "Last time?"

Sa-young finally looked him in the eye. "When you kissed me."

There it was. The moment it always came back to.

He'd filed it away in a corner of his heart, but it was always there. Drunk, soft-eyed Eui-jae in the hallway after midterms, slurring "You're so good to me, Sayoungie," before pulling him in and whispering "I love you."

And Sa-young had believed him. Still did.

"…WHICH TIME??" Eui-jae shouted, like that was the part that needed clarification.

Sa-young blinked slowly. "You were drunk. It was after midterms."

Eui-jae collapsed on the bed like the world had ended.

His phone buzzed.

Another comment.

"Real love. I hope I find someone like this 😭💘"

He screamed into the pillow.

Sa-young kept typing. Finished his sentence. Saved his document.

"…You want me to take it down?" he asked gently.

Eui-jae groaned. "YES."

Sa-young nodded again. "Okay."

Then he remembered his mother's call. And smiled slightly.

"Oh. My mom wants to meet you."

Eui-jae's head shot up from the pillow like he'd been electrocuted. "WHAT?"

"She saw the post. She said she wants me to bring my boy home for dinner."

The silence that followed was so complete, Sa-young could hear the heater humming in the next room.

Eui-jae stared at him with the expression of a man whose entire worldview was crumbling in real time.

"Your mom thinks we're dating," he said slowly.

"Yeah."

"YOUR MOM."

"She's wanted to meet you for a while."

"SA-YOUNG." Eui-jae's voice cracked. "YOUR MOTHER THINKS I'M YOUR BOYFRIEND."

Sa-young blinked. "You are."

That was the final straw.

Eui-jae let out a sound that was part scream, part sob, part existential crisis, grabbed his hoodie from the floor, and fled the room like the building was on fire.

The door slammed behind him.

Sa-young sat in the sudden quiet, then looked back at his laptop.

He did not take down the post.

And he definitely didn't delete the text he'd just sent his mom: He said yes to dinner. Weekend after next?

V.

Tuesday started like every other day: with Sa-young arriving to class five minutes early, settling into his usual seat, and watching the door for the inevitable hurricane that was Cha Eui-jae running late.

Right on schedule, Eui-jae burst through the door like he was being chased, bubble tea in one hand and backpack sliding off his shoulder. His hair was a disaster, his hoodie was inside-out, and he was beautiful in that frantic, completely unaware way that made Sa-young's chest do stupid things.

Sa-young had been watching this exact routine for four years. He never got tired of it.

Eui-jae was halfway into his seat when a girl from behind them called out...

"Hey! I think this is yours!"

She held up a navy hoodie. Sa-young recognized it immediately, the little bleach stain on the cuff from when Eui-jae had tried to "help" with laundry, the tiny embroidered lemon on the hood that Eui-jae claimed was "vintage" but was really just old.

It was definitely Eui-jae's.

But she handed it to Sa-young.

"Sorry," she said, smiling. "I grabbed the wrong one from the hook in the studio. I figured it was yours since you're always wearing each other's stuff."

Sa-young accepted the hoodie calmly, like this wasn't the validation he'd been unconsciously craving for months.

The girl walked off, and Eui-jae turned to him with that look. The one that meant Sa-young was about to get interrogated like a suspect in a crime he definitely committed.

"Okay. Why does your closet have more of my clothes than I do?"

Sa-young looked at him, at his boyfriend, who was wearing Sa-young's sweater right now and apparently had no idea, and shrugged.

"Because your hoodies smell like citrus and bad decisions."

It was the truth. Eui-jae smelled like his stupid expensive face wash and that vanilla body spray he pretended he didn't use and something indefinably him that Sa-young had been addicted to since sophomore year.

Eui-jae blinked. "Is that a yes or a cry for help?"

Sa-young paused, looked up at him slowly. Both. It was definitely both. Four years of pining disguised as "friendship" while his boyfriend remained obliviously perfect and never realized Sa-young was completely gone for him.

"...Both," he said.

After class, Eui-jae followed him back to his dorm. Because of course he did. Because that's what they always did, had been doing for years, like Sa-young's space was just an extension of Eui-jae's world.

(Sa-young loved that. The casual assumption that he belonged in Sa-young's space. The way Eui-jae never asked, just followed. Like it was natural.)

Eui-jae sat on his bed, their bed, really, given how often he slept there, and folded his arms like he was preparing for battle.

"You realize I've found three of my shirts, one pair of sweats, and my socks in your drawers."

Sa-young started sorting laundry, movements careful and deliberate. "You said I could borrow them."

"That was last semester. I thought you meant, like, once. Not permanently relocate them."

Sa-young held up a black hoodie. The one Eui-jae wore to graduation, the one that still smelled faintly like his mom's fabric softener and proud tears. Sa-young had been sleeping with it under his pillow for three months.

"This one's yours too, right?"

"That's literally what I wore to my high school graduation."

Sa-young nodded and tossed it onto the bed. Right next to Eui-jae. Where it belonged.

Eui-jae stared at the pile of his own clothes living in Sa-young's space.

"…Are we dating?"

Finally.

Sa-young looked over at him, his beautiful, oblivious, apparently-just-now-catching-on boyfriend, and said, "Do you want to?"

"I'm ASKING if we are. Not if I want to. Why does everyone think we're dating?!"

Sa-young thought for a moment. Then decided honesty was probably the way to go. He'd been patient for four years. Maybe it was time to lay out the evidence.

"You sleep here more than your own dorm."

"That's because your bed has a mattress topper!"

(Sa-young had bought the mattress topper specifically because Eui-jae complained about his dorm bed. But sure.)

"You labeled your toothbrush here."

"You labeled it for me!"

(He had. With a heart. In purple gel pen. After Eui-jae moved it in and never moved it back out.)

"You call me when you're sad."

"THAT'S NOT A—okay shut up—"

"You wear my clothes, too."

"Your sweaters are huge and soft and that is not the point."

(They were huge because Sa-young bought them big specifically so Eui-jae could steal them and swim in them and look adorable. Mission accomplished.)

"You kissed me after your finals."

"THAT WAS A STRESS RESPONSE."

(It wasn't. Eui-jae had looked at him with soft, tired eyes and said "thank you for taking care of me" and kissed him so gently Sa-young's heart had forgotten how to beat properly.)

"You said I'm the only one who makes you feel calm."

"OH MY GOD I NEED TO STOP TALKING."

Eui-jae collapsed face-first into Sa-young's bed with a groan that sounded like his soul was leaving his body. 

Sa-young watched him fondly. Even mid-breakdown, Eui-jae was perfect.

"…Wait," Eui-jae mumbled into the sheets. "You said citrus and bad decisions."

Sa-young turned from folding laundry. "Mm?"

"That's what you said my hoodies smell like."

"Yeah."

Eui-jae looked up with suspicious eyes. "What kind of cologne smells like bad decisions."

Sa-young blinked. "I didn't say your cologne."

Pause.

Beat.

Eye contact.

"I meant you."

Eui-jae stared at him like Sa-young had just explained quantum physics in interpretive dance.

Sa-young blinked slowly. "It's a compliment."

It was. Eui-jae smelled like citrus and bad decisions and late nights and terrible horror movies and everything Sa-young wanted to wrap himself in forever.

Eui-jae looked like he needed to lie down for the next century.

Later that night, Sa-young's phone buzzed.

My Sweet Angel Baby ♡♡♡:

did u take my striped sweater too

YOU:

no u gave it to me

u said "here u go, u cold bastard"

My Sweet Angel Baby ♡♡♡:

fuck i did say that

.....

okay

fine

but i'm taking back the lemon hoodie

YOU:

no

he lives here now

Sa-young smiled at his phone. Eui-jae could try to take back the hoodie, but they both knew he'd "forget" it here again within the week.

Some things never changed.

(And Sa-young was perfectly fine with that.)

+1.

It started with soju. Like all the best moments in Sa-young's life did.

Well, not all of them. But definitely the ones involving Eui-jae finally, finally being honest about what he wanted.

It was Sa-young's birthday. Or close enough, he didn't really care about dates, but Eui-jae always remembered, always made sure there was cake and terrible karaoke and drinks that were too strong for either of their own good.

This time, someone had brought a drinking game that was designed to ruin friendships and reveal secrets. Perfect.

Somewhere between round 3 and 7, Eui-jae started leaning.

On Sa-young.

This wasn't unusual. Drunk Eui-jae was clingy Eui-jae, and Sa-young had been the designated cling-ee for four years now. He didn't mind. (He loved it. He lived for it.)

Eui-jae's head was on his shoulder, fingers tracing patterns on Sa-young's wrist, occasionally running through his hair like he was mapping the shape of him.

"Why are you so pretty," Eui-jae slurred, barely audible.

Sa-young went very, very still.

"Like," Eui-jae continued, oblivious to the way Sa-young's heart had started doing acrobatics, "if I was dating you, I'd never shut up about it."

"You are," Sa-young said quietly. Because he was drunk too, and tired of pretending.

Eui-jae giggled. "Haha. Yeah."

And then he kissed him.

This was kiss number twenty-one. Sa-young was keeping track.

But this one felt different. Slower. More intentional. Like Eui-jae was trying to say something with it instead of just giving in to impulse.

Sa-young kissed him back carefully, like he always did, trying not to hope too much.

"You smell so good," Eui-jae whispered against his lips. "Like... like fabric softener and heartbreak."

Sa-young huffed a soft laugh. Only Eui-jae would compare him to laundry and emotional devastation and somehow make it sound romantic.

"I love your stupid face," Eui-jae added, pressing their foreheads together.

Sa-young's breath caught. Eui-jae had said I love you before, but never quite like this. Never while sober enough to mean it, drunk enough to say it.

"Wish I was brave enough to do this when I'm not drunk," Eui-jae muttered.

And there it was. The thing Sa-young had been waiting four years to hear.

"Wouldn't even blame you if you punched me," Eui-jae mumbled. "I always do this. Kiss you. Forget in the morning. You probably think I'm the biggest asshole—"

"It's fine, I know you're shy," Sa-young said, barely louder than a breath.

But Eui-jae didn't hear it. He was too busy kissing Sa-young again, softer now, with the weight of four years of wanting behind it.

Sa-young kissed him back and tried not to let his heart break, because tomorrow Eui-jae would wake up and pretend this never happened, like he always did.

Except this time was different.

***

Sa-young woke up first. He always did.

Eui-jae was sprawled across his chest, wearing Sa-young's hoodie, face peaceful in sleep. Sa-young's own hoodie, Eui-jae's favorite one, the navy blue one that was soft from too many washes, was draped over both of them.

They'd swapped clothes sometime in the night. Sa-young didn't remember doing it, but it felt significant somehow.

He waited, patient as always, for Eui-jae to wake up and start panicking.

Right on schedule, Eui-jae's eyes fluttered open, took in their position, and went wide with horror.

"Morning," Sa-young said calmly.

Eui-jae shot up like he'd been electrocuted. "M-Morning."

"You okay?" Sa-young asked, even though he could see the exact moment Eui-jae started remembering.

"I—I think so? Maybe. Do you... uh... Do you remember last night?"

Sa-young blinked slowly. "Of course."

He watched Eui-jae brace for judgment that would never come.

"You always get affectionate when you drink," Sa-young said instead.

"...Right. Okay. Cool. Normal. We love patterns."

A pause. Then:

"You kissed me again."

Eui-jae groaned. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"Why not? You do it every time."

Eui-jae froze. "That's not the flex you think it is."

Sa-young tilted his head slightly. Maybe it was time. Maybe after four years of waiting, after twenty-one kisses, after watching Eui-jae panic every single morning after, maybe it was time to just ask.

"Can I ask something?"

"Sure," Eui-jae said weakly.

"Why do you only kiss me when you're tipsy?"

Eui-jae blinked. "What?"

"You've been doing it since freshman year. You never bring it up the next day. So I thought... maybe you were shy."

That was the generous interpretation. The other interpretation was that Eui-jae only wanted him when his inhibitions were down, and Sa-young had spent four years trying not to think about that too hard.

"Wait. Since freshman year??"

"Yeah."

"Sa-young. How many times have I kissed you?"

Sa-young did a little mental math. (He didn't need to. He knew the exact number.) "Twenty? Twenty-one?"

"TWENTY-ONE?!"

"Well, you were single every time. I figured it was safe to assume—"

"ASSUME WHAT."

Sa-young looked at him, at his beautiful, panicking, finally-maybe-getting-it boyfriend. "That we were dating."

And then waited for the explosion.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN WE WERE DATING?"

There it was.

Sa-young blinked, confused now. "You confessed. First time you kissed me. You said you were in love with me."

He remembered that night perfectly. Peach makgeolli and karaoke and Eui-jae looking at him like he'd hung the moon, saying "I love you, y'know. You're, like, my person" before kissing him soft and sweet and certain.

Sa-young had believed him. Had been believing him for four years.

"Y-You thought that was real?" Eui-jae whispered.

Sa-young tilted his head. "Wasn't it?"

The look on Eui-jae's face suggested it wasn't. Or that Eui-jae hadn't meant it to be.

"Sa-young. I thought we were just friends."

Oh.

"Oh." Sa-young blinked. "So all the kissing and cuddling and sharing clothes and holding hands and sleeping over and you calling me 'baby' that one time, none of that meant anything?"

Eui-jae looked like someone had just unplugged his brain.

"I thought we were really close friends! I thought you were just... letting me be weird!"

"You kissed me six times last semester," Sa-young said, trying to understand. "And I picked out your toothbrush color."

"THAT'S NOT A RELATIONSHIP MILESTONE!"

Sa-young felt something small and hurt curl up in his chest. "I thought it was."

Eui-jae flopped back into the bed and covered his face.

"This is it. This is how I die. From stupid. Death by dumbassery."

Sa-young sat there, water bottle in hand, trying to process four years of misunderstanding.

"…You good?" he asked softly.

"You thought we were dating. For four years. And you didn't think to, I don't know, mention it?"

"You were the one doing the kissing," Sa-young replied. "You called me 'baby.' That's couple behavior."

"That was once! And I was drunk!"

"You bought me skincare on White Day."

"I buy everyone skincare—"

"You called me your favorite person."

"Everyone's my favorite person when I'm drunk!"

"You sleep on my chest like it's a pillow."

"It's a nice chest!"

Sa-young smiled slightly despite himself. It was a nice chest. Eui-jae had good taste.

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"No. I wanna crawl inside a sock drawer and live there. Like a shameful gremlin."

Sa-young tugged the blanket down gently. "Hey."

Eui-jae peeked out, and Sa-young was struck again by how young he looked when he was vulnerable like this.

"I'm not mad," Sa-young said.

"I am. At me."

"That's fair."

Another pause. Then:

"Do you… want to break up?"

Eui-jae sat up so fast Sa-young was worried about whiplash. "WHAT?!"

"Well. Technically, if we've been dating this whole time, and now you say we weren't, that means we either start now or break up. Right?"

Sa-young was mostly kidding. Mostly. But also maybe a little bit testing the waters.

"No," Eui-jae said immediately.

"...No?"

"No!! I mean—yes?! I mean—I don't want to break up! That's not—I mean, I didn't know we were dating, but now that I do know, I—shit, I need to think—"

He flopped again, and Sa-young watched him with the patience of someone who'd been waiting four years already. What was a few more minutes?

"Do I want to date you?" Eui-jae mumbled into the pillow.

Sa-young's heart did a little skip. "I mean. I thought you did."

Eui-jae was quiet for a long moment, and Sa-young could practically hear him thinking.

"…Do I want to date you," he repeated, like he was testing the words.

Sa-young waited.

"…Yeah," Eui-jae said finally, voice small. "I think I already do. Like, not just the drunk stuff. I think… I've been doing boyfriend shit without realizing it. Because it was you."

Sa-young's chest went warm and soft and stupidly hopeful.

"Okay," he said. "So… do you wanna make it official?"

"Like. With words?"

"With words."

Eui-jae sat up, looked him in the eye, and said:

"I want to date you. For real. Like. Not just on accident."

Sa-young smiled—really smiled, the kind that felt like sunshine.

"Cool," he said.

And then he kissed him. Not drunk, not mistaken, not secret. Just a kiss between boyfriends who finally, finally knew they were boyfriends.

When Eui-jae kissed him back like someone who meant it, Sa-young thought maybe waiting four years had been worth it after all.

Bonus:

Three months later, and Sa-young was deeply entertained by the fact that absolutely no one believed them when they said they "just started dating."

He understood why. To everyone else, it probably looked like the most obvious relationship in the history of obvious relationships. Because it was.

"You shared 21 kisses. That's not an accident," Seo Min-gi said flatly while microwaving leftover jjajangmyeon.

Sa-young nodded thoughtfully. Min-gi had a point. Twenty-one kisses was definitely intentional behavior. Even if Eui-jae had been too dense to realize it at the time.

"He wore your scarf for, like, a year. I thought it was a weird kink thing," Kang Ji-soo added, not even looking up from her notes.

Sa-young blinked. He remembered that scarf. Navy blue cashmere, soft enough that Eui-jae kept "borrowing" it and "forgetting" to give it back. Sa-young had bought three more scarves that winter, just so Eui-jae could keep that one without him freezing to death.

He'd never gotten it back. It lived in Eui-jae's closet now, smelling like his cologne.

"You licked icing off his finger in public," Bae Won-woo said, looking traumatized. "During sophomore year. I saw it. I can never unsee it."

Ah. Sa-young remembered that too. Eui-jae had gotten cake frosting on his finger and, instead of using a napkin like a normal person, had just held it out expectantly. Sa-young had been too gone on him to think twice about it.

In hindsight, that had probably been pretty couple-y behavior.

"You literally said 'he's my person' during beer pong," that one guy from their stats class chimed in, still looking emotionally scarred.

"You have a toothbrush at his place. And a drawer," added some random classmate whose name Sa-young didn't even know.

Sa-young sipped his drink calmly. All valid points. He'd been living like Eui-jae's boyfriend for four years. The only person who hadn't noticed was Eui-jae himself.

The best part, though, was watching it happen in real time.

Like right now, at the café, where the new barista—who had been working there for exactly one week—was watching them with dead, judgmental eyes.

Sa-young had just done what he always did: noticed that Eui-jae was struggling with his straw wrapper, smoothly reached over, took the straw out of his drink, bit the wrapper off with his teeth, and stuck it back in.

It was automatic. He'd been doing it for years.

"That's a boyfriend thing," the barista muttered under her breath.

Eui-jae slammed his hand on the counter like he was about to start a revolution.

"WE HAVE BEEN OFFICIALLY DATING FOR THREE MONTHS."

The barista raised an eyebrow. "...Sure."

Sa-young took a sip of his americano, tasting the satisfaction along with the bitter coffee. This never got old.

"It's been four years and three months," he said mildly.

Eui-jae whipped around to glare at him with the fury of a man who had been personally victimized by the truth.

"You need to STOP saying th—"

"Four years, three months, twelve days," Sa-young continued, because he was feeling particularly generous with his precision today.

"OH MY GOD."

Sa-young watched his boyfriend have what appeared to be a small aneurysm and smiled into his drink.

He'd waited four years for Eui-jae to catch up. Now that he finally had, Sa-young was planning to enjoy every single moment of everyone else realizing what had been obvious from the beginning.

Some things were worth the wait.

Even if it took Eui-jae four years, three months, and twelve days to figure out he was in love.