Work Text:
WINTER
(Hanbin’s POV)
The cold bit deeper tonight, sharp enough to make their breath bloom white in the amber streetlight. Hanbin tugged his jacket closer, but the chill had already found its way past his collar, settling against his neck in a way that made him hunch his shoulders.
They’d been walking in comfortable silence – boots finding rhythm on frozen pavement – when the numbness in his fingertips reminded him of what he’d forgotten. Again.
His gloves.
Hanbin kept his eyes down, watching frost catch the light in jagged patterns beneath the streetlamps. Beside him, it was clear that Matthew had grown up with this. It showed in the way he walked, unhurried.
Wind sliced between them. Hanbin’s eyes stung, then watered. He rubbed his hands together, wishing he’d remembered to take better care of himself.
That’s when Matthew slowed, then stopped entirely.
“You okay?”
Hanbin cleared his throat, pride threading through his voice. “Yeah. Just cold.”
Matthew didn’t push – he never did. Instead, he worked one arm out of his oversized hoodie and extended the empty sleeve toward Hanbin, fabric warm and inviting.
“Here, hyung. Sorry I can only offer one arm – this hoodie wasn’t designed for two people. Serious engineering flaw that I’ll have to talk to some people about.”
Hanbin stared at the offered sleeve, a soft laugh escaping him. He hesitated for just a moment, but Matthew gave the sleeve an encouraging shake, eyes crinkling with that familiar playfulness.
The warmth was impossible to resist. Too kind. Too Matthew. So Hanbin slipped his arm in without another word.
It was soft. The fabric held Matthew’s body heat. Hanbin’s fingers stopped aching almost immediately. And for a moment that felt longer than it was, Hanbin wondered if he’d ever been this close to someone without really noticing the gravity of it.
Because this wasn’t just about forgotten gloves.
It was Matthew’s shy smile, the one that said he’d offered something precious without thinking and only now realized the intimacy of it. Heat moved up Hanbin’s arm and spread through his chest, unfurling like the first flower of spring.
They walked like that – connected by fabric, which probably looked strange to anyone who glanced over. Their footsteps sounded quieter somehow, muffled by the snow piled against the curb and the whisper of wind through bare branches.
Eventually, Hanbin broke the quiet. “You always do this.”
Matthew tilted his head. “Do what?”
“Make the cold feel less cold.” Hanbin’s free hand came up to rest lightly against his chest. “In here too, not just out there.”
Matthew’s silence stretched, thoughtful. Then came that smile again – soft, uncertain, like he was discovering something about himself in real time.
And Hanbin couldn’t figure out what changed in that moment. Only that something had – small enough to miss if you weren’t paying attention, too significant to ignore if you were.
SPRING
(Matthew’s POV)
Trees had started budding, branches still mostly unadorned but showing green at the tips. Spring arrived not with fanfare, but with the quiet promise that frozen things could bloom again.
But it wasn’t just the season that felt new.
They were taking a walk after dinner. Side by side with easy rhythem laughter punctuating comfortable silences. It had become second nature by now, this pull toward each other.
Lately though, something in the space between them had shifted.
There was more weight in the quiet. More awareness in the way they moved together. More meaning hidden in between words.
Matthew kept telling himself it was nothing. Just the natural closeness that came from knowing someone too well. Just fatigue from their schedules making everything feel more than it was.
Nothing more than that.
But then they reached the corner where the light turned golden, and Hanbin fell into step closer than usual. Their shoulders brushed.
And there it was again.
The quick flick of Hanbin’s eyes in his direction, searching for something, before darting away. So subtle, so careful, that Matthew almost missed it. Almost.
“What are you up to, hyung?” Matthew asked, unable to hide his smile.
“Nothing,” Hanbin replied, voice easy, grin splitting his face. “Just walking.”
But it didn’t feel like just walking anymore.
The light had changed – gold and rose now, softening everything it touched. The wind had lost its winter bite, warm enough now that Matthew had stopped bracing against it. They could have walked that street forever, suspended in early evening.
As they turned the corner, Hanbin’s hand brushed his. Light, barely there.
Intentional.
Not an accident.
Matthew’s heart skipped. Hanbin’s fingers lingered.
Then slowly, his hand slipped into Matthew’s. Palm to palm, fingers folding together like puzzle pieces finding their match. Like they’d always known exactly how to find each other.
It looked casual.
It felt monumental.
Matthew stared down at their joined hands, thumb automatically brushing across Hanbin’s knuckle.
“We just...” he started, then stopped, searching for words. “We just kinda fit, don’t we?”
The observation came out quieter than intended. Honest and unfiltered.
Hanbin looked over, smile blooming slow and sure across his face. “Of course we do.”
Matthew didn’t say anything else. Neither did Hanbin.
But their hands stayed together. Matthew wasn’t sure what it meant. He only knew he didn’t want to let go.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
SUMMER
(Hanbin’s POV)
The cola can was already sweating through Hanbin’s grip by the time they hit the second block. He switched hands, wiping his palm on his shorts, but it didn’t help much – the humidity had settled into everything tonight, thick enough to taste.
Cicadas screamed from the trees. Somewhere down the block, a truck rumbled past, and the whole street smelled like hot asphalt.
They’d been doing this for months now, their post-practice cooldown – same streets, same convenience store, same unspoken agreement that neither of them wanted to go back to the dorm yet. Hanbin didn’t know when even the familiar had started feeling different.
“Is it me, or is it criminally hot tonight?” Matthew asked, rolling his shoulders.
“Feels like we’re walking through a sauna,” Hanbin agreed, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.
“Global warming is working harder than we are.” Matthew laughed, stretching his arms overhead.
His shirt rode up. Hanbin’s eyes betrayed him, tracing the curve of Matthew’s waist, the way his skin glistened with a thin sheen of sweat at certain angles.
His pulse quickened, but he tried to push the feeling down. Told himself it was just the oppressive summer heat messing with him.
“What’s going through that head of yours?” Matthew asked, voice curious.
For a split second, Hanbin wondered if he had somehow been caught staring. His eyes snapped back to Matthew’s face.
In that same moment, he thought about just saying it. That Matthew’s presence had started rewiring his nervous system. That he’d been catching himself watching, wondering… wanting things he didn’t know if he could have.
But there was too much else to think about – comeback prep, keeping the group together, being the person everyone expected him to be. Adding honesty on top of everything else felt like something he couldn’t afford. Impossible.
He deflected. “Nothing. Just zoning out.”
“You always say that,” Matthew hummed, unconvinced. “Every time you’re about to collapse, you pretend you’re ‘just zoning out’. I’m onto you, hyung.”
“I’m fine,” Hanbin tried again, half-smile tugging at his lips.
Matthew’s face changed. The teasing dropped, and something more careful took its place. He was quiet for a moment, studying Hanbin’s face in the lamplight, and Hanbin had to resist the urge to look away.
“It’s okay if you’re not, though.” Matthew stopped walking.
They’d reached the intersection, a quiet corner bathed in the glow of a blinking pedestrian signal.
The street lay empty, lamplight casting soft halos around their feet.
“You hide it so well. The way you take care of everyone else like you don’t get tired too. Like you’re not allowed to.”
He stepped closer. Close enough that Hanbin could see the damp curls at his temples, the way his throat moved when he swallowed.
“You don’t have to do that with me. I’m your best friend.”
Hanbin’s heartbeat was loud in his ears.
“I know. I just want to make sure I show up for all of you. Especially you.” His fringe fell forward as his gaze dropped to safer ground.
He couldn’t meet Matthew’s eyes – not until gentle fingers swept the hair from his forehead, thumb lingering at his temple.
“You always show up for me,” Matthew murmured. “And more.”
Maybe it was the heat, again. Maybe it was the way Matthew was looking at him, like he knew exactly what Hanbin was thinking. Hanbin reached up without deciding to, fingers brushing the side of Matthew’s face. He just adored him so much.
Matthew leaned into it.
Hanbin’s thumb traced the edge of his jaw, memorizing the feeling. “Hyung would give you the world, you know,” he whispered, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “Anything. Everything.”
He wasn’t sure why he said it. It wasn’t something he’d ever said aloud before, but the words felt like they’d been sitting at the back of his throat all summer, waiting for the right moment to be said.
Matthew’s eyes crinkled with that devastating smile, so painfully endearing it almost hurt. “What if that means I get you too?” He was half-laughing, but something in his voice dipped toward hope.
Hanbin didn’t know what to say to that.
So he gave Matthew’s cheek a light tap instead. “Yah, don’t get greedy.”
The light turned green.
Matthew took off across the crosswalk, looking back over his shoulder with his tongue out. “Too late!”
Hanbin laughed fondly and chased after him, cola still clutched in one hand.
Still… somewhere between that tender touch and Matthew’s sprint across the intersection, Hanbin wondered how much longer they could keep pretending this was just friendship.
FALL
(Matthew’s POV)
Matthew loved this transitioning season – the way it started calling for cozy sweaters and warm drinks, the sound of leaves crunching underfoot like nature’s confetti. Autumn slowed everything down, creating pockets of quiet in a world that rarely paused. It made him feel like he could breathe a little easier.
The park was mostly empty around them, just a few dedicated joggers and the rustle of leaves chasing each other across the path. Above, branches swayed with that papery sound of dying things still holding on. The sky was starting to darken, purple creeping in at the edges.
Matthew tugged his hoodie closer. Hanbin walked beside him, sometimes ahead, sometimes falling back, but always close enough that Matthew could feel the warmth coming off him.
He’d stopped calling it coincidence a long time ago.
Stealing a glimpse sideways, Matthew watched Hanbin intently taking in their surroundings – tracking the movement of branches overhead with unnecessary focus, following a distant jogger’s progress like it was fascinating television. The kind of deliberate observation that screamed I’m definitely not thinking about anything important right now.
It was cute how transparent he was.
A leaf drifted down from overhead, catching in Hanbin’s dark hair. Matthew reached out and brushed it away, fingers catching in the strands for a moment.
Hanbin looked at him.
“Cold?” Matthew asked, nudging his elbow to cover the flutter in his chest.
“Nope,” Hanbin replied too quickly.
Matthew raised an eyebrow. “Hyung. Your hands are literally disappearing into your pockets.”
“Oops?”
“You’re such a terrible liar. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“I’m an excellent liar,” Hanbin protested mildly. “You’re just annoyingly skilled at reading me.”
Matthew withdrew his hand partway into his sleeve, leaving a loose pocket of fabric. Then he swung the empty sleeve-end toward Hanbin.
“Come on, get in before I have to explain to management why our leader has nine fingers due to frostbite. We both know you forgot your gloves again.”
Hanbin eyed the ridiculous makeshift hoodie paw for a second longer, then sighed in resignation. He slid his hand inside. Their fingers touched before settling into a loose, familiar tangle.
Matthew tried to ignore the way his chest did something weird. He definitely tried to forget how he’d totally-not-on-purpose left his arm positioned just right in the sleeve.
Because last time he’d gone and tucked his arm all the way through. Amateur.
Smart planning this time, really. Totally calculated and not at all desperate. Pathetic? Maybe. But he wasn’t about to complain about the results.
“This is the warmest thing I’ve touched all day.” Hanbin admitted.
“That’s because I radiate love and generosity,” Matthew said, smug. “You’re welcome.”
“You radiate sweaty coconut, actually.”
“Hey! This right here is peak boyfriend material.”
“Are you offering?”
Matthew wavered for half a second, then challenged back, “What if I was?”
Hanbin made a sound that wasn’t quite an answer. But their hands stayed nestled together in the warm cocoon of fabric, Hanbin’s grip tighter now.
They kept walking. It felt strangely cinematic – like they were strolling through a scene from someone else’s love story.
Matthew wasn’t sure when all this had started. Maybe summer. Maybe before that. Maybe years ago even. But now?
It was impossible to unhear the way Hanbin said his name, or forget how his laugh always started deep in his chest, or ignore the careful way he looked at Matthew – like he was afraid of something neither of them had ever put into words.
Matthew didn’t know what to call it. He only knew it felt like home away from home.
He probably should have kept quiet. Shouldn’t have ruined the moment. Shouldn’t have risked what they already had.
But then Hanbin looked at him so tenderly and suddenly the words were right there, demanding to be spoken.
“Hyung, can I say something stupid?”
Hanbin didn’t answer immediately, but his thumb brushed across Matthew’s knuckles – permission and encouragement wrapped in one small gesture.
Matthew kept his eyes on the path ahead. “I don’t really believe in soulmates.”
“Yeah?”
“But if I did – if they were real – mine would be you.”
His heart hammered against his ribs like it was trying to escape. No teasing this time. No safety net of humour.
When he finally worked up the courage to look over, Hanbin was already watching him. Not surprised or shocked – just open. Like he’d been waiting for these words to find their way into the world.
“You don’t have to say anything,” Matthew offered quickly, giving him an out, “I just–”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing.”
“What? Really?”
“For months,” Hanbin admitted shyly. “I just... I didn’t know if you–”
Matthew’s free hand emerged from his pocket, covering their joined ones in the hoodie sleeve.
“I do,” he said simply.
Relief flickered across Hanbin’s features, followed by something that looked like wonder. Like he was still catching up to what this meant.
“And I’m kind of mad it took me this long to say it.” Matthew laughed sheepishly.
Hanbin smiled back. “Well then. I’d like to take you up on that boyfriend thing. If that’s okay with you.”
Matthew stopped walking entirely, chest full of something too big for his body to contain. This was it – not just a moment, but a transformation. The beginning of something new and terrifying and perfect.
“No take-backs,” he managed. “You’re stuck with me now.”
“Haven’t I already been?” Hanbin asked, lips twitching into a smirk.
There was no need for more words when everything they felt lived in the space between their fingers, in the way the world seemed to pause just for them, holding its breath while affection rearranged itself into something they could finally name.
And that felt like the most perfect beginning of all.
WINTER EPILOGUE
(Hanbin’s POV)
Snow fell in fat, lazy flakes outside the windows. Hanbin pressed his forehead against the cold glass for a second, watching them fall and pile up on the sill, then retreated back to the couch where it was warm. He curled into the corner, blanket over his legs.
Matthew had melted into the opposite corner, drowning in a hoodie two sizes too big. His socks didn’t match – one plain black, one covered in tiny Pikachu faces. His feet were securely tucked under Hanbin’s thigh. Every few minutes he’d smile at something on the television.
Their hands rested entwined under the fabric. Not searching or hesitant anymore – just settled. Where they belonged.
Hanbin didn’t try to hide his staring anymore.
“You’re doing it again, hyung,” Matthew didn’t even look in his direction.
“Doing what?”
“That thing where you look at me like I’m your favourite person in the world.”
“You are.”
Hanbin kept watching, gaze unrelenting.
Matthew shifted under the attention, pulling the blanket up to his chin. “Now I feel like you’re checking me out.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Hanbin said it easy, shameless. “You’re beautiful. And cute. And mine.”
Matthew laughed, soft and surprised, pink tinging his cheeks. “Okay, that was smooth. And disgustingly sweet.”
“You love it.”
“I do…” Then he wrinkled his nose and pouted. “Ahhh but I want to be cool and mysterious sometimes.”
“You’re never cool when I look at you like this.”
“Like what?”
Instead of answering with words, Hanbin reached across the space between them, brushing his thumb across Matthew’s cheek with feather-light tenderness.
Like you’re everything I wanted.
Matthew shifted closer, dragging the blanket with him until they were sharing the same cushion. Their hands found each other again underneath.
“I used to think this kind of thing wasn’t for me,” Hanbin murmured. “The stuff you see in movies. I thought I could want it, but never really... have it.”
Matthew’s grip tightened slightly, thumb tracing lazy circles over Hanbin’s hand. He didn’t interrupt.
“But then you happened,” Hanbin continued, eyes fixed somewhere near Matthew’s collar. “And suddenly everything felt possible.”
Matthew looked at him for a long moment. Like he was trying to commit this moment to memory the same way Hanbin was. The glow from the TV. Wind tapping the window. The pulse where their wrists pressed together.
“You told me you’d give me the world,” Matthew teased, smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“And you asked for me instead.”
“Still do,” Matthew said, leaning forward until their foreheads touched, breath ghosting warm across Hanbin’s lips.
Hanbin closed his eyes, resting against Matthew like it was instinct. Like it had always been that way.
There were no fireworks. No big declarations. Just the quiet kind of love that showed up in slow walks and borrowed hoodies, in practice room laughter and silences that didn’t need filling. The kind you felt in the warmth of someone’s hand, or the way they said your name in the dark.
“Been yours,” Hanbin whispered, the most obvious fact known to the world.
Love had settled into all the warm corners, content to stay. Not loud. Not loud at all.
But absolutely everything.
And Hanbin got to keep it.