Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Sieun could’ve cried. Seriously, this was so annoying he thought he could’ve bawled his eyes out right there in his apartment parking lot, family of five getting into their car beside him and all. Sieun drove his keys into the keyhole once again in a desperate last attempt to start his car engine.

Just like it had been doing since last night when Sieun had tried—but obviously, tragically failed—to leave his apartment for a late night grocery run, it sputtered pathetically and failed to roar like a normal, healthy engine.

Sieun closed his eyes, sighed, shook his head in frustration. This was seriously ridiculous. He’d only bought this car six months ago, as a gift to himself after finally getting his driver's license. It had treated him well, smooth and quiet on the road, no issues with pulling slightly to the right when he was driving at high speeds like his dad’s old car had. Until now.

With an annoyed huff, he threw his car keys on the driver's seat and whipped out his phone, dialing a local mechanic’s number. The line rang for a painstakingly long amount of time, like he was being mocked. Eventually, a voice reached Sieun’s ears.

“Yes, hello. This is Seojang Mechanics. How can I help you?” The voice seemed to belong to a middle aged man. He sounded bored, uninterested, sleepy even. It was 2pm and the night before Christmas Eve, so Sieun didn’t blame him. He wanted a nap too.

“Hello. I’m calling because my car won’t start up. The engine won’t turn on. I’ve been trying to get it to start since last night.” Sieun gulped. His mouth was dry. He’d woken up early to get to the bottom of this whole thing and had been too distracted to even remember to drink water.

“Does it make a noise when you put your key in?”

“Yes. It sputters, but fails to turn on after that.”

There was rustling on the other end. Sieun hated the noise. Everything was grating at his head. “Ah, I see. Well, we can take a look at it this evening if you want. That’s our only available time slot for today. Unfortunately, it’s the only one available until the 26th too, as we’ll be closed tomorrow and the day after. Does 5pm work for you?”

Sieun gnawed at his cheek, suddenly remembering the plans he’d made with his mom for this evening. He had to attend a stuffy, fancy holiday work party with her. He absolutely couldn't miss that. He had to be there so she could show off her golden boy. Her perfect son. “You guys don’t have anything for this afternoon?”

“Sorry, no. We can only do 5.”

“Okay, I understand. I’m not available at that time, but thank you.” Sieun dropped his phone slightly, let it hover in front of him instead of being at his ear. He breathed out.

“Of course. Would you still like that appointment for the 26th—”

Sieun cut him off. “No. I’m… I’m fine. Thank you again.”

“No problem. Have a nice day.” Sieun cut the phone, bringing a hand to his forehead. Eomma. Why? Why now?

Sieun stared blankly at his phone’s home screen, feeling miserable. His thumbs eventually found the google search bar, flying as he frantically searched for other mechanics nearby.

After his 4th call, and still no luck, Sieun gave up. It seemed no one was available on such short notice.

He should’ve gone a day early with Juntae, Gotak, and Baku. But he had said yes to his mom instead.

It looked like Sieun was going to Busan by train.

…

Like clockwork, his mom arrived at exactly 5 o’clock to pick him up. Sieun had anticipated it, sat on the entryway bench to slide his dress shoes on at 4:58. He knew his mom was punctual. With her, she either came right on time or failed to show at all.

“Sieun-ah!” Sieun slid the door open and was greeted by his mom’s smiling face. It was saccharine. Forced. His mother hadn’t even talked to him in six months, and now here she was, trying to make up for it with a measly smile.

“Oh, it's been so long since we last saw each other! How’s school? I’m sure you’re doing excellent as always.”

“Fine.”

“You’re making friends? Meeting good people?”

“Yeah.”

Sieun’s mom didn’t press further. They’d done this dance before. She knew he didn’t want to talk. Instead, she cleared her throat, put a hand to Sieun’s shoulder, urging him out of the door.

“Good! Then let’s go. All my colleagues can’t wait to see you. They’ve been asking me to bring you around for a while.”

They made their way to the elevator, Sieun’s mom rambling on about their upcoming night to fill the silence.

“Oh, yeah, I looked at the menu. They’re serving Yaksik for dessert! Sneak extras for us with a napkin when they put it out, okay?”

“That has pine nuts,” Sieun remarked.

“Huh? Yes.”

“I’m allergic to tree nuts.” They had reached the elevator. Sieun pressed the button with the down arrow.

“Oh? Oh, Sieun-ah, of course! Sorry—”

“It’s fine. Let’s go.”

They were quiet on the way down the elevator and in the car. Sieun had nothing to say and his mom’s itch to talk seemed to have dissipated. She just turned on the radio and hummed along with the songs, smiling pleasantly, lost in her own world.

When they finally reached the banquet hall where the event was being hosted, that’s when she spoke.

“Come. We’re just outside the entrance.”

The air was thick with the smell of food and perfume that bordered on sickly sweet when they entered. Sieun looked around. There were several Christmas trees scattered around the room. Some big, some small. Some silver, some dark green. Their lights twinkled, some of them blinking as they changed color.

There were also people everywhere—at the tables, standing in line for the food, approaching them.

“Seo-yeon-ah, hi!” A woman who looked to be Sieun’s mom’s age walked up to them, carrying a delicate, slim wine glass in her hand—the type that looked like it would break if you so much as poked it with your finger. Her heels clacked as she walked, loud enough to cut through the rest of the noise.

They embraced, then the woman’s eyes landed on Sieun, and she gasped. “And who is this?”

“My son. You know the one that’s always top of his class?”

The woman’s eyes widened and her mouth split into a grin. “Ah! Of course, of course. You’ve mentioned him before. Silly me.” She patted his mom’s shoulder with her free hand, then gave Sieun a one-arm hug. Sieun stiffened into it. He hated being his mom’s trophy son.

After pulling away, she looked back at Sieun’s mom again. “By the way, Seo-yeon, my daughter is here too. Sieun should meet her. They’re the same age and go to the same university.” She winked at Sieun’s mom and his mom smiled back knowingly. They’d planned this, then. Sieun probably wasn’t supposed to see that.

“She was just getting some food. Let me call her here.”

“Eomma, I’m here. I just left to go get drinks, not to Antarctica, aish.” The girl walked over to them, stopping at her mom’s side, two drinks, one green and one red—Christmas themed—in her hands. They sparkled under the orange lighting. “And it looks like you already got a drink?” The girl glanced pointedly at the cup in her mom’s hand.

The aunty laughed awkwardly. “It was on our table, Jiyeon-ah. I got it earlier, remember?” She cleared her throat. “Anyways, that doesn’t matter. I have someone I want you to meet. Remember aunty Seo-yeon? This is her son, Sieun. He goes to your school. Do you recognize him?” She looked between the two of them, waiting for an answer.

“It’s a big school, eomma,” the girl eventually said.

“Right. Makes sense. But you guys should talk, hm? Get to know each other. It never hurts to make more friends.”

Sieun’s mom nodded in agreement. “I agree. Sieun’s always got his head in a book, which makes me so proud, but he needs to do something else for once. You both should enjoy the night, have a conversation. Us two will go sit down somewhere. Come, Yeong-ja.”

And with that, Sieun was left alone with the girl.

They stood face to face. Jiyeon’s eyes glistened in the light, caramel brown. Her half-up half-down hairstyle was a bit messy, baby hairs sticking out. She wore a long yellow dress that looked like it cost double of everything Sieun was wearing.

The room suddenly felt suffocating.

“Look, I don’t think either of us wanna do this, so I’m just gonna say it. I’m not interested.”

Sieun blinked. Jiyeon inched closer, hand outstretched. She held the cup with the red liquid in it out to him. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Sieun accepted it.

“You don’t look like you wanna talk. Want me to drop you off at that balcony so it looks like we went there together and then I’ll just walk back in here and disappear in the crowd?”

Sieun didn’t answer, just started walking. Jiyeon was decent. He liked her, he decided.

“Perf,” she said, trailing behind him.

And well, the night didn’t end up being quite as bad as it could’ve been.

…

Unfortunately, it seemed like his luck had run out on the way back home.

“Sieun, you can’t do this forever. Dating is part of life. You need to make space for it.”

“How can you say this?” He muttered. “Look at you and appa.”

She bristled, hands tightening on the steering wheel. “That’s different. You’re you. You can do things right.”

“You just want another thing to talk about. You want to marry me off with all this fanfare so you can show everyone that our family is happy and healthy, even when we’re far from it,” he bit out, his voice clipped.

The car came to an abrupt stop at a red light, Sieun’s mother pressing the brake harshly. “Enough, Yeon Sieun.”

Sieun thought that would be the end of it. That they would go home in silence and Sieun could finally lay in bed, let his tired eyes rest. They throbbed when he blinked and he was sure a capillary had burst in his left one. But his mother wasn’t done, not yet.

“Don’t tell me you're still holding onto that boy from high school. What was his name? Suho?”

Sieun felt his heart thud loudly in his chest. The name echoed in his head. Suho, Suho, Suho. He wanted her to stop. Whatever she was going to say, he wanted her—needed her—to stop.

“This phase of yours has lasted too long, Sieun. You can’t be with a man, you know that. You need to wake up.”

Sieun felt something bitter rise up his throat. “You have no right to tell me what I can and can’t do.”

She scoffed. “I don’t? Sieun, I’m your mother! I have every right—”

“Only when you want to be.”

“What?” She breathed.

“You’re only my mother when you want to be.”

A silence fell over them, thick and heavy. Shortly after, Sieun’s mom pulled over to a gas station and parked. Sieun got out and walked the rest of the way home.

That night, Sieun dreamed of Suho for the first time in a while. Of pink lips and rosy cheeks, soft hair and smile lines around the eyes. In his dream, Suho held him, and Sieun didn’t let go.

…

The next morning, Sieun found himself on an taxi ride to the train station. He’d gotten a good night’s sleep, washed his hair, and even used some of that lavender body scrub Juntae had got him for his birthday. He felt good, so good, he could almost forget about last night.

The sound of his phone ringing interrupted his peaceful silence.

“Hello?”

“Hello?! Yeon Sieun, hello me when you get here already. When’s your train, ice princess?” Baku’s voice sounded as endearingly loud and obnoxious as ever. Sieun rolled his eyes fondly at the nickname.

“I’m on my way to the station. I’ll reach the house a little after lunch time.”

“You better tell that train conductor to hurry up. We need you here like now.”

“Will do. I’ll go straight up to him after boarding the train. No getting sidetracked.”

Baku snorted. “Ah, I love it when you joke. It’s peak emotional whiplash.” He heard a rustle, some crunching. Was Baku eating chips for breakfast?

“Baku, please don’t tell me you’re eating chips for breakfast.”

“Come on, Sieun-ah, I’ll live! But hey, what about you? What did you eat for breakfast?”

Sieun panicked, trying to come up with some food item so he could bluff. Today had been a bad morning and he’d forgotten. He hadn’t had one like this in a while, actually—was getting a lot better at not skipping meals. Baku just happened to catch him on his worst day like a child with a hand down the cookie jar.

“Don’t tell me you didn’t eat today.”

Sieun sighed internally, realizing he couldn’t lie to Baku. He would notice immediately, even through the phone. He, Gotak, and Juntae knew him now, after the two years they’d spent together. Knew him and understood him in ways he never would’ve expected them to, considering the person Sieun was when he first met them—a jaded, wrecked, absolute mess of a college freshman. A closed book he thought no one could ever open. It was jarring, scary even, sometimes, but it was nice. He liked it—liked being known.

“I’ll pick something up at the station.”

Baku was silent for a moment, seemingly paying attention to something else. Juntae and Gotak, Sieun guessed. Their speech was incoherent, but he could make out their voices.

“Hey, how much time until boarding?” Baku asked.

“A little over an hour. Why?”

“Kay. And how far are you from the station?”

“10 minutes I think.”

“Kay, then stop and get something to eat outside the station. You’ve got plenty of time. Juntae says the train station food is crap.”

“It’s overpriced for its quality,” Juntae interjected.

“Ok. I think there are some cafes nearby.”

“Yeah, Sieun-ah! Go and get some nice food, okay? We’ll be waiting for you here.” Sieun could hear the smile in Juntae’s voice. The thought of that made him smile too.

“Yeah, I will. Bye Juntae. I’ll see you guys soon.”

Sieun ended up pulling over at a convenience store instead of one of the several cafes around Seoul Station because he suddenly found himself craving banana milk. This was another food habit he'd been doing better with—besides making sure he got in three full meals a day: leaning into his cravings, when they came to him.

Today, Sieun didn't even hesitate to get the driver’s attention, asking him to stop the car, saying he’d just be 5 minutes. The phone call with his friends had left him feeling light, warm, a little spontaneous.

The store was decently sized, Sieun noticed, when he walked in. Probably because it was near Seoul Station, one of the biggest and busiest metro stations in the country. He didn’t even bother getting himself a basket or a cart, opting instead to hurry over to the dairy section with a one-track mind.

His eyes roamed over the rows of flavored milk. There were tons of brands. But Sieun’s favorite was Bingrae—had been since he was a child. Sieun walked over to the far right, where he found those beloved tiny bottles with foil caps. The flavors were organized horizontally. Strawberry, melon, taro, banana.

There was only one bottle of banana milk left. Sieun reached forward to grab it, but he wasn’t fast enough.

His fingers closed around the top of the bottle, clutching the thin neck of it, but before he could take it for himself, lithe fingers were brushing against his, making quick work of claiming it before him. Sieun blinked, turned. His heart stopped, chest jerked as he flinched.

Standing beside him, eyes wide, lips parted, was Ahn Suho.

The banana milk fell to the floor with a distant thud, forgotten. Sieun didn't look down to see where it fell.

Sieun had stopped breathing, chest stuck on an inhale, tight and pulled in so, so far.

“S-Sieun-ah?”

Sieun felt a familiar pang of affection at the sound of his voice. A kind of affection only Suho could bring out of him. A feeling only reserved for Suho. Sieun just stood there for a moment, maybe two, chest heaving as he remembered how to breathe again.

Then Suho was reaching out, fingers inching closer, closer, closer.

And Sieun was running away.

…

Suho was running after him, feet moving before he could even process what he was feeling or think about what he would say, do when he caught him.

There was only one word in his mind and it kept playing, playing, playing—like a song on repeat.

Sieun, Sieun, Sieun. Sieun was the fast beating drum and Suho was the one with the weak little heart that thumped in sync with it. Sieun was the honey and Suho was the bee. Wherever Sieun went, Suho would always follow.

Suho caught him by the upper arm, the soft grey cloth of the boy’s hoodie brushing against the skin of his fingers, palm.

“Wait! Please.”

Sieun froze at his touch, then tried to wiggle free. Suho didn’t let him. His mind raced with a million thoughts of what to say, but nothing seemed right. His mouth opened, closed, lips smacking with it.

Under his grasp, he felt Sieun tremble. From the cold, or something else, Suho didn’t know, but he didn’t care.

“You’re cold,” he eventually said. The words sounded loud, vulnerable to his ears. They stretched between them.

Suho closed the distance between them, stepping forward until he was peering at the top of Sieun’s head. A cold wind blew, causing the dark brown strands of his hair to dance. The familiar scent of Sieun’s shampoo washed over him—pomegranate and shea butter, he hadn’t changed it.

Still holding onto him, Suho moved in front of Sieun and took in the sight of him. Long lashes on full display as Sieun avoided his eyes, rosy cheeks from the cold weather, plush, pink lips. He looked just as beautiful as Suho remembered.

He was also still shivering, clothes definitely not fit for this weather. On the top, a collared grey university sweatshirt with green writing loosely hugged his frame. On the bottom, black baggy jeans. No jacket.

Suho was wearing practically the same thing—a bright red hoodie and navy blue jeans—but with the addition of his black, leather bomber jacket, he was nice and warm.

Without a second thought, he shrugged it off, and fingers shaking, placed it on Sieun with careful hands—like Sieun was something delicate, like he was a frail egg shell that could crack easily under his touch.

After he made sure Sieun’s arms were fully through the jacket sleeves, he finally removed his hands, stepped back. Sieun could run away now, if he wanted to, but Suho had a feeling he wouldn’t.

Sieun finally looked at him, onyx eyes pulling him in like a magnet, glimmering with some deep emotion he couldn’t name. Suho’s breath hitched.

“What are you doing?”

Suho flinched at his harsh tone. “Giving you my jacket. Is there something wrong with that?”

“I don’t want it.” Sieun tore it off, placing it back in Suho’s hands.

Sieun inhaled, and Suho could tell it was shaky. “Why are you here?”

Suho’s expression morphed into something serious, brows furrowing. “Is that—is that really what you’re going to ask me?”

“Is there something else I should ask you?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“There isn’t.” Sieun tried to harden his voice, words coming out fast, harsh. But Suho could hear the weakness in it.

There was a moment where Suho just watched Sieun—watched him stand there and hold everything back. Try to conceal his pain by pouring all his emotions into his clenched fist. Sieun thought he didn’t notice how wild his eyes looked, the way his mouth parted on short, unsteady breaths.

The moment was broken when Sieun moved back one, two, three steps. “I have a train to catch. I don’t have time for this.”

“No!” Suho exclaimed, voice coming out rough, hoarse. “Don’t run away from me again, Sieun-ah. Please.” His feet carried him back to Sieun, helplessly falling back into his orbit. He grabbed onto one of Sieun’s hands, puffing out a breath as he took a moment to tie his jacket around his neck—he refused to wear it again. It belonged to Sieun, who was still quivering from the cold.

Then, he took both of Sieun’s hands into his own, held their clasped hands in the air, in line with their upper bodies.

“Please baby.” Suho pleaded, the pet name slipping out naturally, as easy as breathing, even though it shouldn’t. Shouldn’t be. Can’t be. They were not—

Not together.

Not anymore.

“Just stay.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?” Frustration. Pain. Suho heard it in his voice, felt Sieun’s nails scrape against his palms as his hands moved under Suho’s grasp, as he lost control—dropped the facade.

“Does it matter?”

“You should hate me.”

“But I don’t.”

And Suho didn’t. Never did. Not two years ago when Sieun looked at him with those dark, cruel, bottomless eyes, chin quivering almost imperceptibly and betraying a sense of indifference, and told him he was no longer needed.

Not a week ago, when he’d been at the bar with his friends, and a girl came up to him and asked for a kiss, and he’d dashed out of the place and ran a whole mile to a nearby bridge, where he watched the city lights below and ached for Sieun, Sieun, Sieun.

And definitely not now. Now that Sieun was close enough to touch, to hold, to take back.

“Sieun-ah, can you forget? Just for today? Don’t ask me how I feel and I won’t either. Just spend the day with me.”

At Sieun’s lack of response, Suho licked his lips, feeling their dryness on his tongue. Sieun-ah, baby, say yes. Say yes, please. How do I get you to say yes, baby? “Just… as friends, hm?”

“Why should I?”

“Before any of this, we were friends, right?” Suho asked, voice gentle, soft. Sieun couldn’t deny this, couldn't just turn away and say no.

“I have a place to be.” Sieun finally pulled his hands away, bringing them to his side. He didn’t sound quite as resolute, detached as before. Suho was breaking him down, bit by bit.

Suho had a place to be too, but he was willing to cancel for Sieun. Baku would understand.

“Ok, so I can take you there. You were gonna go by train right? So you’re going far. We can spend the day together while I drive you instead. Where to?”

“I already bought a train ticket.”

“I’ll reimburse the cost,” he assured. Their conversation was a push-pull—Sieun the pusher and Suho the puller. Suho could win; he just had to pull harder than Sieun could push.

“Why?”

“Because I want to. We’re friends.”

“I don’t understand, Suho…” His voice sounded weak, like he was about to crack.

“You don’t have to. I told you, for today, forget everything that happened between us, ok?”

Sieun looked like he wanted to protest, press him for answers, ask why again. But under Suho’s steady gaze, the words caught in his throat.

“...Fine. One day only.”

Before Suho could react, a loud honk sounded nearby, startling them both. Sieun flinched, Suho whipped his head around.

“Yah, you coming or not? I don’t have all day.” Suho blinked, turned towards Sieun, a question in his eyes. He looked flustered. Cute.

“I’m so sorry.” Sieun bowed politely, all elegant and respectful. Suho thought he might swoon at the sight of it. “You can go. I’m not going to the train station anymore.”

He walked over to the car and handed the driver his card along with a few extra bills. “Please take extra. I’m sorry for the wait.”

With an angry huff, the driver swiped his card and accepted the extra money, getting out quickly to hand Sieun the backpack he’d left in the car before driving off without another word, the thick smell of gasoline wafting through the air. Suho came up behind Sieun, footsteps loud against the concrete, face catching the last bit of warm air from the car that drove away. It was so quiet now, since neither of them were speaking.

“You were saying?”

“You’re going to make me say it again?”

“Why not?”

“I said yes.”

Suho laughed, and it seemed to ease the mood. This felt normal. This felt like them.

“Where were you headed anyway?” Sieun asked a moment later, and his voice sounded tentative, like he was still treading on thin ice, but then—when he was done asking the question, when Suho turned to him and saw him standing there with those curious doe eyes, awaiting his response—Suho watched his shoulders drop. He relaxed, finally.

“Ah?” Suho let out, lost in the moment for a second. “Oh.” He cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here with you now.” He quickly recovered, leaning over and playfully bumping his shoulder against Sieun's.

Then, smiling, he bent down, crouching low on the ground below Sieun and sending him a finger heart. It hurt only a little bit when Sieun didn’t react to his antics with one of those shy smiles of his. Only a little.

“...Okay.” Sieun didn’t ask for a story, just accepted his answer, which, well—Suho did a little happy dance in his head. “I’m going to Busan for a gathering with friends, so just bring me to the city.”

Oh? Suho was en route to Busan too. It was a crazy coincidence, a perfect one at that, because it meant he could do this. He wanted to ask Sieun what he was going there for, who these friends of his were, etc., but he had a feeling Sieun wouldn’t tell him, so he squashed his questions down.

“Sure thing. At your service,” Suho said, a teasing but fond glint in his eyes. And then Suho reached out into the expanse before him, hand coming to a stop just above Sieun's head.

His hair—Suho wanted to ruffle it so badly. Sieun wasn't even looking. Suho could cross the line—just for a second, before Sieun pushed him away.

But Suho didn’t. He couldn’t touch him. He no longer had permission.

He cleared his throat, stepped back. “Uh, come on. I’m ready to go now, if you are.”

Sieun turned to face him, nodded. Suho pulled his car keys out of his pocket, heard them jingle as they made contact with the edge of his palm. “Oh, do you want some snacks first? I mean, I’m assuming you came here for that. Uh, you want that banana milk?”

Sieun didn’t respond, just turned towards the convenience store and started walking, clearly on a mission. Suho smiled—a lopsided, fond thing—and trailed behind him.

They walked back into the store and reached the area they had previously been standing in, with all the dairy products. Sieun glanced down at the fallen milk from earlier with a blank expression, but from the way he gulped, subtly licked his lips, Suho knew. Oh, he wanted it.

“My fault, Sieun-ah. I’ll get you a new one, yeah?”

And he meant it. Earlier, he’d been a bit thirsty, had wanted the banana milk too, but now, that feeling was out the window. Sieun had him wrapped around his little finger. Suho was a weak, weak man.

Before Sieun could stop him, he was walking over to a store associate in a nearby aisle. She stopped what she was doing—stocking items—looking down at him from the top of a ladder as Suho asked if they had any more Bingrae banana milk in the back. “I’ll pay extra for the cost of the banana milk that fell on the floor if needed. But can you get us a fresh one?”

She climbed down, dusting off her hands on her shirt, and just chuckled, waved him off. “No need to pay. It happens. I’ll just throw it out.” She grabbed the floor milk from Suho and gave him a friendly, closed lip smile. “And yes, I think we do have some in the back. I’ll go and get it. Wait here.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” Sieun said, fixing his gaze on Suho.

“Hey, come on, it’s your favorite.” He placed his hands in his pocket, leaned forward on his feet. “Oh, that and choco pies. Let’s go get some. It’s never good to be hungry on a road trip.”

Several minutes later, they found themselves in the checkout line with the banana milk, a few choco pies, and some food and drink Suho had picked up for himself, being the foodie that he is. Sieun stood awkwardly at his side—hovering—while the girl from earlier scanned their items.

Suho glanced at him, eyebrows raised. “What?”

“I’ll pay.”

His eyebrows dropped. He didn’t say anything, just stared at Sieun, unblinking. Sieun did the same, stared up at him with those relentlessly stubborn eyes of his.

Suho pushed his tongue to his cheek, leveled Sieun with an equally defiant look, crossed his arms, sighed. “Unbelievable. Yah, you. You’re so selfless, even after all these years, hm?”

Sieun pulled out his card, tried to make his way to the payment machine behind Suho, but he wasn’t fast enough. Suho stopped him, sliding the card out of his hand and holding it up in the air.

“Uh-uh. If you want it, come and get it.” Suho smirked, feeling a little smug. He would win this.

Sieun launched himself forward and leaning on his tiptoes, swung his arm up in the air. Suho dodged easily, catching Sieun by the wrist to steady him as he lost his balance.

“Give it,” Sieun said, and there was an edge to his voice. He was a little annoyed. It was adorable.

“No.” They stared at each other again for a moment, Suho’s arm still up in the air. Then, Sieun seemed to come back to himself, to remember himself. He retreated, taking a few steps back.

“Sorry. If you really want, you can pay.”

The lady at the register cleared her throat, bringing their attention to her. Suho had forgotten she was there. “We have a split payment option. You can both pay.” She looked between the two of them. “Just a suggestion.”

“Ah.” Suho smiled sheepishly and handed her his own card. “Thank you, but I’ll pay.”

She accepted it then handed him their bag with a friendly smile. “There you go.”

Suho nodded politely, and he heard Sieun say thank you behind him. They made their way to the door, Sieun trailing behind him with quiet footsteps. When Suho opened it, a cold gust of wind hit his face. “Aish. So cold. Let’s get in the car quickly.”

He held the door open with one hand, wanting to let Sieun through first. Sieun passed, and right as Suho was about to follow him out, the lady from the store called out to them.

“Merry Christmas!”

Suho bowed, wished her in return, and slipped through the door.

Then he and Sieun were alone again, and Suho thought to himself that with Sieun by his side, it really was a Merry Christmas. Christmas Eve, really, but whatever.

He hoped that by the end of the day, Sieun would feel the same.

“Let’s go,” he said, smiling as he pointed in the direction of his car.
…

Sieun settled in, fastening his seatbelt and pulling down the sun visor to block the sun that was getting into his eyes.

Suho had just plopped his backpack into the back, shut the door swiftly. But he hadn’t gotten in yet. He told Sieun to wait because he had to fill gas.

So Sieun leaned back, head thumping against the headrest, and thought.

There was only one explanation. Suho just didn’t care. He didn’t care about the breakup. He was no longer heartbroken. He really just wanted to spend a day with Sieun as friends, because that’s what he was to him now. A friend. He’d moved on.

It was good, in a way, because Suho wasn’t mad. Sieun didn’t have to feel the sting of that. But also, it hurt knowing that Sieun was the one still stuck in the past. Sieun was the pathetic one who was still pining.

The pain was indescribable, but Sieun would have to deal with it, just for today. Just for a handful of hours. This would be over soon.

He exhaled shakily as the car door opened, watched as Suho slid into his seat with a soft grunt and turned the car on.

“Alright. What’s the address?”

Sieun placed his hands on his lap, not knowing what else to do with them. “You don’t have to drop me there. Just somewhere in the city is fine.”

“And you’ll what, sit in one of those dirty, overcrowded buses? No way, tell me the address.”

Sieun really wasn’t prepared for the inevitable questions his three friends would ask him if they saw him get dropped off by some mysterious man they’d never seen before, so he wasn’t going to give into Suho’s begging that easily.

“Yes. I can take the bus. I did it every day in high school, you know.”

Suho’s eyes flickered with something Sieun couldn’t name at the mention of high school, something vulnerable. Then that vulnerability turned to bitterness.

“You shouldn’t live like you did in high school. Ever.” Suho’s voice was low, dark. It was an alarming contrast to his earlier tone.

Sieun was at a loss for words. But then, with the feeling of Suho’s intense stare directed straight at him, he gave up. They tumbled out, Sieun reading out the address for the vacation house Baku had rented from his phone without a moment of hesitation. “It’s an Airbnb,” he added at the end. Just because.

Suho’s eyes went as wide as saucers when he finished speaking. “Yeon Sieun. Are you serious? Are you seriously, positively, serious right now?”

Sieun felt his chest warm at the sound of Suho’s subpar vocabulary usage. It’d been a while. “Why would I lie about an address?”

“That’s the place I was already headed to! Baku’s house, right?”

“...Yes.”

Suho leaned back in his seat, placed a hand on his forehead. “You were invited to the guy’s holiday party too? For snow on the beach in Busan?”

Sieun had absolutely no idea what’s going on. It felt like his entire world was crashing down on him. Was he dreaming? Drunk? Had this entire day just been one big fucked up, cruel fever dream?

But the words were registering. They checked out. Yes, Baku, the idiot, was hosting a big party at his holiday house in Busan just to see it snow in Busan for the first time in years—what with it being a coastal city and all. On the beach specifically, so he could blast that Taylor Swift Song, god. And of course he’d asked Sieun to come. He was one of his closest friends. But Suho?...

“He’s my friend from college, yeah. Why were you invited?”

Suho let out a quiet, astonished laugh. “I met him at a…” He didn’t finish his sentence. “Doesn’t matter.”

But Sieun was insistent. “Where?”

“He’s just an acquaintance,” Suho answered, but the silence before his words was a beat too long.

Sieun turned to Suho, huffed. “No. He’s not.”

“Fine. I met him at an MMA gym.”

Sieun felt something curl in his stomach at the revelation, felt his heart jump to his throat. MMA. Fighting. Suho fighting. Graphic images formed in his mind.

Suho, down, on the ground, body limp, because the fight had left his body—on that night, the night that changed both of their lives.

An older Suho, caressing Sieun’s face, looking up at him with a weak smile, bloodied bruises painting his arm, sweat clinging to his face.

Suho, in a hospital gown.

Suho, sacrificing himself for Sieun over and over and over again, even though Sieun never asked, never wanted it.

“Why?” Is all he managed to say, and it was choked out.

Suho looked momentarily taken aback by the sound of his voice, but then he seemed to realize. To remember. Remember that yeah, this was a sensitive topic for them. That no, Sieun wouldn’t just accept a simple response.

“Well, it’s a little bit of everything? I did it… to get stronger, but also, when I first started, every time I saw that punching bag in front of me, I saw those guys who hurt you instead. Jeon Yeongbin. Taehoon. Choi Hyoman. Now, the anger has simmered down a bit, I think. Now, going to the gym has just become a routine, sort of, you know? It just keeps me going every week.”

Suho sounded nervous. It was a rare sound from him. But only in the grand scheme of things. They were talking about this, so it was normal. He’d always sounded nervous when they talked about fighting. Sieun guessed some things never changed. That some rhythms, people were bound to fall back into.

“Are you fighting?” Sieun asked a moment later, after the words sinked in, head buzzing with worry.

“No, Sieun-ah. I’m done fighting.” He said in reply, and it sounded like the truth, it really did, but somehow Sieun’s anxiety wasn’t quelled. Just because he wasn’t fighting now didn’t mean he wouldn’t fight in the future. Although, at least with Sieun out of his life now, the chances were lower, he told himself, and that made him feel a bit better.

They wouldn’t meet again after today. He would make sure of it.

Sieun nodded in response, unable to bring words past his lips.

Suho kept staring at him even after the nod, eyes searching, reading. To Suho, Sieun was like an old book that he’d read many times, but hadn’t opened up for a while. He’d memorized him long ago, and the ability to just know everything he was thinking, feeling, was muscle memory to him.

“You believe me. But you’re still upset. What’s wrong?”

Suho had his lips parted. His eyes had this softened, attentive look. He was waiting. Sieun had every bit of his attention, and he wondered why. Was he pretending? Pretending to care as much as he used to?

Sieun knew he still cared, even now, or else he wouldn’t have brought Sieun in his car, asked to spend the day with him, but this deeply? No way. “I’m not.”

“Yes you are.” Yeah. Suho had him memorized. All the way through. It was hard to undo that.

“No I’m not.” He looked away, stared at a spot on the edge of his seat. He turned again, forced his face into something he wasn’t, trying to look bothered, pouring irritation into his eyes. “What, do you think you know everything about me, Suho?” He said, words meant to bite, to cut.

Suho blinked at the harsh tone, eyes flickering with hurt. But that only lasted for a second. “Yeah. I think I do.”

Sieun was taken aback by the honest answer. Suho was good at this—at putting on an act. He didn’t care this much, feel this deeply about Sieun—not anymore. He was faking it. Because Suho was nice like that. Because Suho was so, so good.

And here Sieun was, thinking back on a time when he cared like this sincerely—imagining, just for a second, that the softness in his voice was real, that they were still happy and in love.

It was embarrassing, because Sieun knew that now, he was the only one left wanting. That on the other side of the car, Suho wasn’t sitting there feeling a reciprocal ache at the memory of affection from Sieun.

It was also wrong. So wrong. He couldn’t allow himself to wish things would go back to how they used to be. That chapter had ended years ago, and it needed to remain closed. “Let’s talk about something else.”

Suho rearranged himself—brought one hand down to rest on his knee, put the other one on the steering wheel. “Alright. Something else.” He paused, sending a brief glance at Sieun, like he was thinking something through.

“Baku. Tell me how you met him. Word for word. And then I’ll tell you the story of how he ended up being my sparring partner at the MMA gym too.”

So Sieun did. He told him they met for the first time in freshman year in their economics class, but that they later found out they shared many core classes, causing the other guy to be persistent in befriending him. He also mentioned Juntae and Gotak because it felt right to have Suho know they were in the picture too.

As Sieun began talking, Suho reversed out of the store parking lot and entered the main road, effectively tying Sieun down for 3hrs and 28 minutes of driving time, and, knowing Suho, probably anywhere from half an hour to an hour of off-road break time, and then an unforeseeable amount of time at Baku’s Airbnb.

What had Sieun gotten himself into? This was going to be a long day.

…

“The guy came up to me with this smug, wide smile on his face and said he wanted me to teach him. Pointed at me and all. Aish, how shameless. Those were the first words he said to me.” Suho recounted his first encounter with Baku with a fond smile on his face.

“I didn’t know Baku knew MMA.”

“Yeah, well, he told me he was keeping it from his friends and family.” Suho sucked in a breath. “He said he stumbled upon my gym by chance and saw me fighting, felt inspired. He said I box with discipline, control, like it’s really nothing more than a hobby. He admired that. Said there aren’t enough people who don’t fight with anger or some sort of negative emotion. He wanted to learn my ways.”

Sieun looked out the window, stared at the outline of Suho’s reflection on it, then at his own face, big and warped due to the proximity. “Makes sense. Baku has a history with fighting. You…” You do too. He probably noticed it. Definitely did. The words were too painful to utter, the fact difficult to acknowledge.

“Yeah. He saw himself in me.” So Suho did it for him.

A moment later, Sieun steered the conversation back into safe territory. “Why did Baku show up at your gym? There are other ones closer to our college campus.”

“Hmm, it’s a really famous gym. Big and got lots of equipment. A quick google search and he probably wanted to check it out.”

Sieun nodded, taking it all in. They were silent for a while after that, the conversation having died down.

Sieun eventually broke it, a fragile question leaving his tongue.

“Suho… how have you been?” Sieun gulped, mouth dry. He didn’t know how to phrase what he was trying to say, to ask. There were too many things to ask. No combination of words felt right.

“Have you been… well?”

The click clack sound of the indicator stretched between them as Sieun waited for an answer. Suho took the turn, merging onto the highway.

The car sped up, and it felt like flying. Sieun felt weightless. Breathless.

“Have you?”

“I asked you first.”

“And I’m throwing it back to you. Uno reverse.” Suho winked, smiling with it. But the smile wasn’t teasing. No, it was soft, warm. Fond.

“I've been fine.”

“Ok, so have I.”

Sieun wanted more. He was greedy when it came to Suho. He wanted to know all the details. What he’d been up to these past two years. Was he finally happy, now that the fighting had stopped? Had Sieun been successful—given him the life that he deserved?

But he wasn’t going to ask for it.

Suho chuckled, recognizing Sieun’s inner turmoil. “Ok, ok. Hey, hey, don't space out on me. I… fine, I’ll tell you everything.”

“Um, I’m studying at community college now. I major in kinesiology, just like I planned… back then. You said I'd like it. You were right. I could help people with injuries like I had, or I could do tons of things with sports. It gives me lots of good options." He paused. “I minor in business management too, which we… didn’t plan.” He chuckled—a little awkwardly, Sieun noticed.

Sieun felt it, then. A melancholic pang that hit him fast and hard. It took root in his stomach, bloomed and overtook the rest of its body, spreading itself far and wide. He tried to dim its light, snuff it out.

He shouldn’t have felt cut out, tossed away, at Suho’s words—shouldn’t have felt like a bent, useless puzzle piece that no longer fit into the whole. He couldn’t.

The Suho Sieun knew had wanted to go to college. It made sense that the one he was with today hadn’t given up on that wish. But a selfish, shameful part of him wished that he had. Because giving up meant he couldn’t move on, after they parted ways. Giving up meant he felt as broken at the loss of Sieun as Sieun did at the loss of him. A small, but loud part of Sieun wished that Suho did something different, that he didn't feel inclined to just go forward with life after what went down.

That voice kept pestering him, clawing at him, getting to him. He tamped it down with all his might and asked “And… you’re happy?” You must be. I know you are.

“Happy?” Suho scratched his neck, smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You wanna hear me say I am?”

“What do you mean?”

“I know you want to hear me say I am, Sieun-ah.”

“I… What?”

Suho’s eyes were fixed on the road ahead, but Sieun could still make out the expression on his face. He looked contemplative, brows furrowed on some seemingly serious thought. He swallowed, and the noise of it was all Sieun could hear. The air felt charged, tense.

“You really don’t get it.” He stated it like it was a fact. He didn't sound mad—it wasn’t a negative comment. No, he sounded mostly neutral, but also, a touch… despondent?

Sieun looked away quickly. He subconsciously bent his head, slumped a little bit, allowing the sun to creep past the visor and into his eyes. He squinted, golden light painting his face.

He heard Suho inhale sharply beside him. “Ah—nevermind that. Let’s move on, hm?”

Sieun felt like there was nothing else to do but just agree. “Mm.”

“Aish, we keep doing this. Bringing our conversations to a dead end.” Suho ran a hand through his hair while he said it. It was longer now—long enough that it flopped back onto his head after his fingers were done threading through it. Sieun liked it like this.

“You’re saying things I don’t know how to reply to,” he said back—with an edge of desperation, of upset.

“I know. I’m sorry. Please forgive me?” He sounded sincere. Sieun wasn’t going to deny him.

“It’s fine.”

Sieun took one, two, three breaths, and then Suho changed the topic. He was fast. Like smooth, loose sand slipping through the fingers.

“Um, here—what’s your major? What are you studying?” It was something safer. That, Sieun could tell him. Would tell him.

“Neuroscience.”

“Yeah?” Suho licked his lips. Sieun heard the wet smack of it. “You like it?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna be a doctor?”

“I don’t know. Maybe. There are always jobs in the labs. Or I could go to law school. I haven’t decided yet.”

Suho hummed. “That’s okay. You’ll figure it out.” Suho’s gaze lingered on him for a bit after he said that, as if he wanted to say something more. What, Sieun didn't know. That delusional, cruel voice in his head conjured up some potential ideas—sweet dialogue like, You’ll ace it no matter what you pick, bookworm. You know that, yeah? He wished it would shut up.

“Mm.”

Sieun slid the fingers of his right hand under the sleeve of his hoodie. It was oversized, so he could do that. The fabric of the lined sleeve end was rougher than the rest of the hoodie, and Suho had heated up the car well, so there was no reason to cover his fingers, but Sieun just felt like he had to.

Doing it felt safe, nice.

It was a balm, maybe.

He breathed out softly, turned his head towards the window, where a shiny blue car was driving parallel to them on an adjacent ramp.

This was really his life. Wow. Really.

…

“Hey, wanna play some music?”

It had been about 10 more minutes of slightly awkward small talk when Suho asked.

Sieun was still reeling from the emotionally taxing conversations they’d had. From the confusion that came at Suho’s words, questions, expressions, his everything. But he allowed himself to get lost in the small talk—to relax, just a little bit. That was the point of this trip, after all, right? To enjoy their time together as friends? Even though the word didn’t sit right in his throat. Friends. Could they really be friends?

“Yeah. What do you wanna listen to?”

“Was gonna ask you the same thing.”

“Okay. How about—”

Suho cut him off. “Wait, let’s make this fun. Let’s play a little game. You think of a song you wanna play and I have to guess what it is. Then you do the same for me. We take turns. What do you think?”

Sieun answered his question with silence, at first. Classic Suho. He was always doing this: disarming him.

He ended up shrugging, agreeing with a quiet, but firm “Sure.”

“Yes! Don’t act all nonchalant, Yeon Sieun. You’re gonna love this. Okay, you go first!”

Sieun thought for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. This made him nervous, somehow. It felt dizzyingly normal. They had managed to find solace amidst this fever dream of a day, but Sieun felt antsy, wondering when what they had built would break, when things would go back to not being so easy.

“Okay. The song I’m thinking of is like a… a good thing, but the opposite.”

Suho tapped his knuckles against the steering wheel, considering his words. “Hah? So a bad thing? What does that mean? C’mon, you gotta be more specific.”

Sieun blushed. For once, he couldn’t articulate himself with that clear, even voice of his. With those eyes that said he meant it. Many people called him a genius, and he knew there was truth to their words—knew that intelligence carried over to his speaking, with all its eloquence. Sieun always said the right thing, even if he said barely anything at all. But there were certain moments, like these, where he was caught off guard.

Usually Suho was involved.

“Um, waves.”

“Waves?” Suho asked, like he found this slightly funny. But he didn’t sound exasperated. No, he sounded… endeared.

Then, like a light bulb went off in his head, Suho’s eyebrows raised, mouth flew open as he seemingly figured out what Sieun was getting at. “Oh! Sieun-ah, bad? By wave to earth?”

Sieun nodded. He was surprised Suho got it. He'd barely even described it.

“Wah. Of course. That was your favorite song.” Suho stared straight ahead at the road, eyes wide and wistful. He turned. “Is it still?”

“I think so.”

Sieun meant it. He liked everything about it. The dreamy sound of it. The lyrics that felt like a warm hug—they made him feel all fuzzy.

He still thought about Suho when he listened to it. He tried to stop after they parted ways, but he couldn’t. Not after that time on the bus.

Suho had been so, so sleepy, and then—all of a sudden—so, so awake.

It had been maybe their third date. Their relationship was still so young and precious. They were still shy. Back then, Sieun still hesitated to put Suho’s hand in his, to plant a kiss on his lips, and Suho would notice and laugh softly, eyes crinkling with it. Sieun would smile in return, then slowly, press a little closer and take what he wanted.

Suho had texted him late at night, saying they couldn't meet Friday, something about him having to take on an extra shift. Sieun had frowned at the message, but understood the situation—Suho needed the extra money so he could get into college. Sieun wasn’t going to stop him. He wanted to do everything in his power to support his boyfriend, always.

He’d brightened when Suho had suggested they meet Saturday instead, and then his stomach had done a little flip when Suho asked to take him out of the neighborhood, to one of Seoul’s more busy, popular ones. Because it had a park. And Suho wanted to picnic with him there.

He'd picked him up at exactly 11:18 in the morning with a blinding smile on his face, flowers in his hand. Sieun had called him cheesy for it.

They’d boarded the bus and Suho had started drifting, head lolling to the side, occasionally hitting Sieun’s shoulder. Sieun had wrapped an arm around him, pulled him close. He was beyond caring about PDA during that moment. His boyfriend was sleepy and just so irresistible. He just had to have him close.

With a satisfied smile on his face, he’d put in his airpods and opened up his favorite Spotify playlist. He’d been adding songs to it for a while now. For months. How many had it been? Maybe four. No, five.

He’d clicked shuffle and was delighted to see that his favorite song on the playlist had started playing.

Bad. By wave to earth.

God, it must be my lucky day, he’d thought back then. He didn’t have Spotify Premium, so he usually had to click the skip button several times and suffer through a million painstaking ads before it played.

As he listened, he leaned his head against Suho’s, letting his phone drop to his lap. The screen was still on when it fell to his thighs, displaying the song, playlist name, and playlist cover to the world. He felt utterly content with Suho’s warmth pressed against him, and his mind started to clear; he started to zone out and just enjoy the moment.

Right after he drifted off into that blissful state of relaxation, though, his boyfriend started to rouse. His lashes fluttered, bleary eyes falling upon the phone resting atop Sieun’s thighs.

His half-lidded eyes suddenly went wide, like thin crescent moons transforming into full moons.

“Sieun,” he called—snapping Sieun out of his trance—voice low, but the name came out fast. He sounded excited, eager, Sieun discerned. Like a happy puppy. What could have possibly gotten him like this? “What’s that?”

“Hm?” Sieun met his sun-warmed gaze—eyes a candied, glazed, light brown in the morning sunlight. Sieun stared, admiring them in a daze, until they unfortunately flitted downwards as he reached for Sieun’s phone.

“Huh—” Before Sieun could protest, Suho had plucked the phone from his lap.

Sieun removed the airpods from his ears, music stopping. “Phone. Lemme see.”

“See what?”

“Password? Please baby?”

Sieun flushed a little at the pet name. “I don’t know what you want, but… your birthday.”

“Oh?” Suho teased, typing in the numbers.

When the phone was unlocked, Sieun watched as a smile of pure glee took root on Suho’s face, lips curling up so fast Sieun could barely process it.

“Sieunie!” He practically screamed. They received a few looks from people around them.

Sieun just cleared his throat, brushed it off. “Yeah?”

“You have a playlist dedicated to me?”

Suddenly, everything clicked. Of course. Sieun knew exactly what he was looking at. The image came to mind in full resolution.

The singular red heart for a playlist title.

The picture of them under a street lamp, skin tinted a warm yellow-orange as Suho kissed Sieun on the cheek for a playlist cover—there had been a different picture before, but Sieun had changed it to this recently, after they’d gotten together.

Probably fifty songs, all of which reminded him of his Suho.

If Sieun had been blushing before, this was next level. His face burned with warmth that could rival the sun.

“You saw it.”

Suho was scrolling through the songs with a quick swipe, swipe, swipe of his thumb, drinking the thing in. “Hell yeah I did! Sieunie, I’m so glad I didn’t fall asleep. I kept my eyes from closing and I got to see this!”

Sieun bit his bottom lip, worrying at it. “Do you like it?”

“Like it? I love it!” Suho leaned forward and pecked him on the cheek.

“You even picked this cute profile picture for it. Aish, this is really the sweetest thing ever. My heart’s gonna burst.”

Sieun turned away from the other boy, eyes landing on the tray table connected to the seat in front of him and running away from Suho’s gaze, which made him feel all shy and jittery. “I’m glad.”

“When did you make it?”

“Several months back.”

“I didn’t know you listened to music this much.”

Sieun shrugged. “I didn’t always. I started recently.”

“You like doing it?” Suho pulled up the seat divider that was separating them. Good, Sieun had thought to himself. He didn't know why they hadn’t done that before. Then, Suho scooted closer and put his arm under Sieun’s, linking them—cozying up.

“Listening to music?”

Suho hummed. “Yes. I see the appeal.”

A quiet laugh erupted from Suho’s chest and they shook with it a bit. “Cute.”

And then they’d shared an airpod each, listening to the playlist together. They’d started with the song Sieun had only gotten half way through before Suho’s interruption: Bad, by wave to earth.

And well, the song was already his favorite, but after that day, it became all the more special.

“Sieun-ah? What are you waiting for, hm? Let's play it.” Suho’s voice brought him back to the present.

“Sorry. Yeah.” Suho pulled his phone out of his jeans pocket, held it out to Sieun.

“Use mine.”

In complete silence, they listened to the song. They didn’t talk for a while after, either. Sieun started to wonder whether Suho had given up on the game when he finally spoke.

“You know, I never deleted my playlist.”

“What?”

“My playlist. You had one and I had one. I never deleted it.”

“Why?” After finding out about Sieun’s playlist, Suho had made one for Sieun too. He constantly added songs to it, frequently consulting Sieun about whether a song fit their ‘couple vibe’ or not, whatever that meant.

“Hey, we agreed not to ask each other questions like that. Don’t ask why. I just wanted you to know.”

Sieun didn’t know what to do with that piece of information except think that maybe Suho was just casually mentioning this? Maybe he remembered that he’d never gotten around to getting rid of it, and just said the thought out loud. Suho often didn't think very much before he spoke, so it made sense.

Plus, he’d seen Suho’s camera roll. He got sentimental about deleting screenshots and was running out of storage every few months, so it made sense that those bad habits were bleeding into other areas.

“Ok. You can… clean it out.”

“Why would I?”

“I don’t know.” Sieun didn’t know. Didn't know this or anything else. Everything was a mess.

“Sieun-ah, no.” Suho looked like he was at a loss for words. It was a weird look on him. Pained, almost. Sieun wanted it off his face.

“No,” he continued, sounding defeated. “Ok. Nevermind. It’s my turn.”

“We don't have to play if you don’t want to.”

“Yah, who said I don't want to? I never back down from a good game, you know that.”

So Suho started describing his song, eyes bright, voice a little giddy with excitement. The type of excitement that washed over Suho when he was about to say something he knew would fluster Sieun—leave him a little tonguetied. Sieun braced for impact.

“You’re a psycho,” Suho said, eventually, when Sieun still hadn’t guessed correctly.

Sieun gave him a questioning look.

“I said psycho, you psycho.”

“What?”

“You’re a psycho, just like the song.”

And that’s when it hit. Psycho by red velvet. It had been Suho’s favorite song, the dork.

It was the first song Suho put on his Sieun playlist.

…

They played several songs. When Suho put on Stand By Me by Shinee, Sieun had given him a look, and Suho had laughed immediately, unbridled, the sound spilling from his lips.

“What? Boys Over Flowers is my guilty pleasure drama. You know that,” he’d said.

Eventually, Sieun started to relax—Suho’s comforting presence, the warmth of his heated seat, the soft hum of the radio calming him down. He hated himself for it, but he started allowing himself to forget.

Forget where he was. Who he was with. The things left unsaid. The wounds that were still open, gushing blood.

He was so engrossed in the perfect feeling of it all that he didn’t even fight it when his eyes began to droop.

He would allow himself to falter for just ten minutes, at the most half an hour, he decided. He was just so, so desperate for a little nap.

“Sleepy?”

Sieun jerked awake, eyes opening suddenly. The world around him was blue and yellow, light hitting his eyes too suddenly. “Sorry.”

“Hey, easy there. I’m not gonna scold you for taking a little cat nap, darling. Come on, give into it. Just sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

Sieun, already too gone to ponder on the use of the pet name, to object at the sound of Suho urging him on—commanding him really—just leaned back on the headrest and let out a sleepy sound.

He was out like a light.

…

Sieun slept for nearly 45 minutes. 43, to be exact. Suho counted.

Suho parked the car outside a small mom and pop restaurant. It looked old, a little worn, brown paint peeling off the exterior wall, but it was charming nonetheless.

They had to stop here. Had to walk to the bench over in the distance. Look at the view.

There were mountains.

Suho was going to see them with Sieun.

He stepped out, feeling the cool mountain breeze hit his face. It was colder here than it had been in Seoul. They had driven up a few hills, winding mountain roads making Suho feel like nothing else mattered, nothing else existed except them. It was so quiet here.

Suho made his way to Sieun’s side of the car, opened it up and took in his sleeping form. He looked so peaceful.

A little regretfully, he ran a hand through the other boy’s hair to wake him up, fingers undoing some tangles. “Sieun-ah.”

Sieun let out a sleepy, adorable whimper in protest, turning his head away from Suho. Suho bit his lip on a smile, nearly melting. Sieun was going to be the death of him.

“Aren’t you hungry?”

That seemed to jolt the sleep out of Sieun. Suddenly, his eyes fluttered open, Suho’s reflection shining in their depths as they made eye contact while he was bent over him. Confusion flashed through his eyes for a second, then he just looked a little panicked, like he’d been caught.

And he had. He’d let the facade drop—acted all cute and sugary sweet, to Suho’s delight.

“Hey,” Suho said, barely suppressing the urge to pinch Sieun’s cheek, warm breath forming a cloud as it left his mouth due to the cold.

“Where—where are we? How long did I sleep?”

“Somewhere nice,” Suho replied, wanting to be a little secretive, to tease, just a little. Sieun always had this effect on him—just got him feeling so, so indulgent. “And you didn’t sleep for long enough, in my humble but very, very right opinion. I gave into my selfish desire to wake you up.”

Sieun unfastened his seatbelt and flung out of his seat, stumbling out of the car. “Mountains? Suho, where—”

“There’s a bench over there,” Suho interjected, pointing at a spot not too far off into the distance. “Let’s grab our snacks and sit and eat there for a bit, yeah?”

Sieun didn’t look convinced. “We don’t want to be late.”

“Aw, come on, Baku won’t die if he has to wait for us a little longer. It’ll just be 30 minutes.” He leaned forward on his heels, closer to Sieun, until they were inches apart, Sieun’s breath mingling with his. He smiled, leaned back, and then the tension was gone. God, he was aching to lean forward and kiss him silly, then take Sieun’s hand into his and lead them where he wanted.

Sieun finally nodded. Yes. He snapped out of his daydream, coming back to himself, blinking and then smiling widely, teeth out, in answer.

He opened up the door to the backseat to get the food and drinks they’d bought earlier, grabbed his coat, and then his eyes landed on Sieun’s backpack.

That’s when he realized.

He hopped out of the car and put a hand on Sieun's shoulder. “Oy, did you really leave the house today without a jacket?”

Sieun looked away, a pale pink dusting his cheeks, and Suho knew it wasn’t from the weather. “Uh. I left it in the Taxi.”

“Sieun-ah!” His hand slid down Sieun’s shoulder and onto his back. He felt the warmth under his skin. The other boy shivered. “You silly. It’s so fucking cold out here. You’re wearing my jacket.”

“No,” Sieun refused, and he had this defiant, stubborn look in his eyes that was doing things to Suho’s heart.

“No?” Suho asked, sounding incredulous. “This isn’t a request, Sieun-ah. I’m putting the damn thing on you right now.”

He threw the bag from the convenience store over his shoulder and put the jacket on Sieun quickly, quick enough that the other couldn’t stop him. He stepped back to admire his work, feeling satisfied at the look of Sieun fully zipped up, practically drowning in his jacket because of their size difference.

“Ok. Let’s go!”

…

Suho pulled off the foil cover on the banana milk in one swift movement, handing it to Sieun.

“I know you've been craving this. I saw the way you were looking at that milk on the floor earlier. Fuck, like you were ready to go to war over it.” He watched Sieun take the first sip, eyes lingering on a spot right below his lip where milk was dripping out. Sieun seemed to feel it on him and wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“It’s good. Thank you, Suho. For getting it for me.”

Suho popped a shrimp chip into his mouth, chewed, swallowed. “Pssshh, it was nothing. No need to thank me and all that.”

They were silent for a moment. Suho was taking in their surroundings, admiring the view, breathing in the fresh mountain air. The cold made his nose tingle a little, but he didn’t mind the feeling. He eventually turned around though, and noticed that Sieun was sitting tensely at his side.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

“I wanted to enjoy the view with you.”

“That’s it?” Sieun’s eyes were bright, watery, like he was fighting some kind of internal battle.

“Yeah. I enjoy your company.” Suho felt an ache in his chest at Sieun’s question, and it traveled to his arms, fingers. He’d already realized that Sieun thought his feelings had faded, but this moment, this particular confirmation, hurt even more. Sieun really didn't know. Spending time with Sieun was one of Suho's favorite things in the world, and Sieun didn’t know. Not anymore.

He used to. But sometime during these past two years, there’d been a shift.

There shouldn’t have ever been one. All of this was so, so wrong. Suho couldn’t bear this version of themselves. This wasn’t them.

Suho had spent the past two years waiting. But now, he couldn’t hang in there any longer.

Sieun wasn’t going to be receptive to words, so Suho had to show him. Bit by bit, moment by moment, he was going to show him he still loved him—had never stopped. And eventually Sieun would realize.

They would go from there.