Work Text:
Suho’s legs were killing him.
After a long shift, filled with back-to-back deliveries, a near crash on that slippery slope behind a convenience store, and a full hour of navigating narrow alleys that all somehow smelled like trash and fried chicken. His helmet hair was sticking up in weird angles, his back ached from leaning over his bike, and the straps from his delivery bag had left imprints on his shoulders.
But the ache didn't matter. Not really.
Because the second he parked near the quiet little neighborhood park and spotted the hunched figure on the bench, every single nerve in his body relaxed. Every moment was worth it. For this.
Sieun was waiting.
The air was cool, thick with late summer humidity. It was nearing 11:30pm, and the only sounds were the faint rustling of the trees, and the cicadas humming in the distance. Suho had stopped at the convenience store on the way and picked up two ice creams, no text, no asking. Just instinct. One, a chocolate cone for himself, and one of those swirl cups Sieun always reached for when they wandered aimlessly through the aisles after school.
He made his way across the park, the plastic bag swinging from his hand.
Sieun was sitting curled up on the far side of the bench, phone resting beside him, head tilted slightly up as he watched the night sky like it was doing something interesting. He looked peaceful. A little tired. And heartbreakingly beautiful under the soft yellow lamplight.
Suho’s heart did that annoying flip it always did.
“Yo,” he called out.
Sieun turned his head, and his mouth twitched up into a small, familiar smile. The kind that said, you’re late, but I’m still glad you’re here.
“You took your sweet time,” he said.
“I was out saving the world. Or at least delivering someone’s soggy tteokbokki.”
Suho dropped down next to him with a groan, letting the bag rest between them. The bench creaked under his weight, and their legs brushed briefly before settling close but not quite touching.
Sieun peeked into the bag and grinned.
“You remembered.”
“You act like I don’t always remember.”
“Could’ve brought the watermelon one.”
“You hate the watermelon one.”
Sieun looked away with a fake pout. “Still nice to have options.”
Suho rolled his eyes, handing over the swirl cup. Their fingers brushed, and something stupidly warm sparked in his chest.
They sat in silence for a few seconds, unwrapping their ice creams. It was one of those quiet summer evenings where the air clung to your skin, but not in a bad way. Cold but not shivering.
Suho took a bite of his cone and sighed.
Sieun was the one to break the silence.
“So,” he said, glancing over, “how was work?”
Suho scoffed. “Hell.”
Sieun smiled around a mouthful of ice cream. “Be more dramatic.”
“I nearly got run off the road by a guy on a scooter trying to deliver a pizza faster than me.”
Sieun chuckled.
“And then,” Suho continued, “a lady told me I was ‘too handsome’ to be doing deliveries and tried to give me her number.”
“…Did you take it?”
Suho gave him a flat look. “No.”
Sieun smirked. “Why not?”
“Because she was eighty Sieun-ah!”
They both burst out laughing, the sound echoing in the open park. When it faded, their eyes met again, and this time, it lingered just a second longer. Just enough to make Suho’s breath catch in his throat before he looked away, pretending to adjust his grip on the cone.
Their knees were touching now. Barely. But neither of them moved.
“Thanks for coming,” Sieun said after a moment, voice a little quieter.
“You’re the one who waited.”
“I will always wait for you.”
The words were soft. Offhand. But they landed like a punch.
Suho didn’t reply. For a moment, the night felt impossibly still.
Sieun glanced up again, eyes flicking toward the stars or maybe past them. His voice was different now. A little distant. A little hesitant.
“Suho-ya”
“Yeah?”
“I have something to ask you.”
That did it. Suho sat up straighter, suddenly too aware of how close they were. “Okay”
Sieun didn’t look at him. He was gazing somewhere up at the sky, his expression unreadable.
“What is love to you?”
It was barely above a whisper, but it knocked the air right out of Suho’s chest.
He stared at him, stunned into silence.
Sieun finally turned to look at him, brows furrowed slightly like he wasn’t sure why he’d even asked. Like maybe it had just slipped out, and now he was trying to pretend it wasn’t a big deal.
Suho’s voice came out quieter than he meant. “That’s uh, random.”
Sieun gave a small shrug. “It’s late. I was just thinking.”
Suho looked down at the melting cone in his hand. Then at Sieun again. His heartbeat was annoyingly loud in his ears.
He took a breath.
“Love is.. I don’t know,” he started slowly. “It’s doing things without being asked. Like showing up with someone’s favorite ice cream after a shift because you know they’ll be waiting.”
Sieun blinked. His breath caught.
“It’s remembering the way they like their ramyeon. Letting them have the last bite. Listening to them rant about physics homework you don’t understand.”
His voice softened, gaze dropping to where their knees still touched.
“It’s checking the weather before they leave the house. Worrying when they don’t text. Riding your bike across town just to sit next to them on a bench.”
He looked up again.
Sieun was staring at him.
“And taking care of them when they’re sick. Even if they act like they’re fine. Even if they try to push you away.”
Silence.
Then, quietly, with eyes full of something Sieun couldn’t quite name
“But Isn’t that what you do for me?”
Time stopped.
Suho stared at him, the air suddenly too thick to breathe. His chest felt too tight. His heart about to burst out of his chest. His head was burning up.
He could barely speak.
“Yeah,” he whispered. “It is.”
Sieun didn’t say anything else. Just looked at him.
And that was all it took. Voices screaming in his head to stop. But his body and his heart had a different path than the reasonable side of his brain.
Suho leaned in, slowly, giving him time to move away, to stop him. But Sieun didn’t move. If anything, he tilted his chin up, eyes flicking down to Suho’s lips.
That was it.
Their lips met in a kiss that was nothing like Suho expected but it was everything he needed.
It wasn’t hesitant. It wasn’t clumsy. It was warm, slow, full of quiet desperation and months of pretending not to want this. Sieun kissed him back immediately, soft and sure, his hand finding Suho’s shirt and curling into the fabric, holding him there.
Suho made a small, helpless sound against his mouth and slid his hand up to cup Sieun’s jaw, angling his head just slightly to kiss him deeper. His fingers brushed against the nape of Sieun’s neck, and he felt him shiver under his touch.
The kiss deepened naturally, unspoken things pouring out between breaths. There was no rush, no urgency. Just months of closeness finally turning into something real.
Sieun tugged him closer, like he couldn’t stand the space between them. Suho went willingly, their bodies pressed together now, knees knocking, hearts racing.
And when they finally broke apart, it was slow, like neither of them really wanted to stop.
They hovered close, breaths mingling, eyes locked.
Sieun’s cheeks were flushed, his lips pink and slightly swollen. He looked dazed.
“I thought you were straight,” he whispered.
Suho laughed, forehead resting lightly against Sieun’s.
“I thought you were.”
Sieun let out a shaky breath, then, without a word, shifted closer and rested his head on Suho’s shoulder.
Suho froze. Then he smiled.
And tilted his head slightly to rest against Sieun’s hair.
They stayed like that for a long time. Their ice creams had melted, forgotten on the bench beside them, sticky against their wrappers. Suho could feel Sieun’s breath against his collarbone. His hand was still curled lightly in Suho’s shirt.
The streetlamp above them flickered.
“I still think you should’ve brought the watermelon one,” Sieun mumbled.
Suho laughed, quiet and full of warmth.
“I brought what you liked. myself.”
“You’re too good at this,” Sieun murmured, barely awake. “It’s unfair.”
Suho smiled against his hair. “Took you long enough to realize.”
And under the soft hum of the summer night, they stayed like that, pressed close, hearts finally quiet, no words needed.
Because this?
This was love chief.