Work Text:
Nam-gyu’s always running cold, Su-bong’s come to learn. Bundles up in layer after layer, even just lounging around their apartment, and has the cutest habit of pulling his sleeves over his hands. Always shivers the second he steps outside in the chillier seasons, hunching into himself to conserve body heat, grimacing — just like he is right now.
“Are we sure it’s starting soon?” He asks Su-bong for the third time with that familiar uncomfortable pout on his face, his nose curling at the blast of icy wind that hits them both as they step out of their building.
He’s so cute in his winter garb — a puffy jacket swallowing his form, gloves protecting his fingers, a scarf wrapped tight around his neck, and his hood pulled over a thick beanie. The faux fur on the inner lining always makes him look like such a diva. Su-bong can’t help the responding grin that takes over his face.
“Yes,” He insists once again, the same answer he’s given the last couple times Nam-gyu’s asked. Nam-gyu’s already shoving his hands into his deep pockets, huffing out a sigh, his breath visible in front of him. “C’mon, babe. We can’t miss it starting, that’s the whole point. Super romantic.”
“And super cold,” Nam-gyu counters, although when Su-bong glances back over at him, his eyes are softer than they were a moment ago. “What if your forecast is wrong and we’re out here for an hour?”
Su-bong shrugs, glancing up at the pale sky. It looks like it’s gonna start any minute, with the way the heavy clouds cast a wintry haze over the city. But even without the visual cues, he’s been meticulously checking the forecast all day. All week, really. It’s supposed to start around four, and they’re just about rounding that corner now. “It’s not wrong, Gyu. Promise,” He reassures.
He’s been waiting for this since November, after all, hoping they’d get lucky and it’d snow earlier in the season. It didn’t, but now he’s practically vibrating with excitement after such a wait. When it first snowed last year, he and Nam-gyu weren’t together yet, so he wants to — has to — make this one count, now that they’re here together. Their first, as a couple. He’s taken Nam-gyu out in the snow before, obviously — most of their official first dates were accompanied by it on the ground, sometimes fluttering around them — but this is their first cheotnun. This is big, and there’s no way Su-bong’s gonna miss it just because Nam-gyu’s a little fussy about the cold.
“C’mere,” He grins crookedly, extending his open arm. “I’ll keep you warm.”
Nam-gyu purses his lips, but steps right into the space, leaning into Su-bong’s side. Su-bong tugs him closer, running a gloved hand up and down his arm a couple times before it slides to his back, soothing over thick fabric. At the same time, Nam-gyu reaches around him to stick a hand into the left pocket of his jacket, his arm curled around Su-bong as his fingers ball up inside, trying to conserve heat. All of it makes Su-bong’s heart swell, unable to resist shooting Nam-gyu another grin.
He’s so pretty like this, he thinks as he looks at him, admiring all of his familiar features. The slope of his nose, the pout of his lips, his angled cheekbones, his eyelashes…
In all honesty, he could probably pass as a woman like this. From a distance, people have definitely mistaken him for a chick before, with his longer hair. People tend to assume, anyway. Su-bong’s clearly male, so at an initial glance, most passersby automatically figure that the slightly feminine figure by his side must be a female companion. Not typical for queer couples to walk around like this in broad daylight anyway, so of course it’d have to be a woman, wouldn't it?
To anyone who’d bother taking a closer look, though, Nam-gyu’s clearly a guy. His jacket swallows his figure a little bit, but it’s still broader than any woman’s would be; there’s no slender curves hidden beneath the puffy folds. His face, while prettier than any other guy Su-bong’s ever seen, is still clearly masculine. Handsome.
Su-bong doesn’t need Nam-gyu to pass for a woman, anyway. Doesn’t care if people take a second look and realize he’s a man. They’ve already earned plenty of odd looks throughout the time they’ve been together, so for Su-bong, it’s gotten to the point where he simply doesn’t care. Not the norm, for sure. Even Nam-gyu seemed a little surprised when he decided he was fucking sick of hiding and stopped pretending they were just acquaintances in public. But, shit… Su-bong’s been through far worse than just a few judgmental looks from closed-minded strangers. Got those anyway, with his dyed hair and painted nails and tattoos. So, yeah, God forbid he wants to enjoy a romantic walk with his boyfriend. He’s allowed to, he’s come to realize. Nobody’s going to smite him down, despite the obvious dirty looks.
He reaches into the pocket Nam-gyu’s hand has taken residence in, flipping his palm and lacing their fingers together. It’s a little clunky, with both of them wearing gloves and squeezed together in the tight space, but it’s nice regardless. “Better?” He asks, shooting Nam-gyu a grin.
Nam-gyu hums, smiling back. “Warmer.”
Good. They walk for a bit, passing by shops and people, everyone else similarly bundled up. It feels like the whole city's sharing the same anticipation, whether excitement, annoyance, or mere indifference. For most people, Su-bong supposes, it’s not really a huge deal. It snows every year, and the wonder starts to fade as adolescence does. Becomes more tedious as an adult when you have to account for shoveling and traffic. Still, he can’t help his smile as they pass some kids making bets on the exact minute the snow will start, rushing by with their eyes glued to their little watches.
A few blocks from their building, Su-bong pulls them into a small café. Nam-gyu had started shivering pretty quickly, even with Su-bong’s shared body heat, so the relief on his flushed face is immediate; he’s more than happy to shelter from the cold, even if just momentarily. He sniffles as they step in line, and Su-bong has to physically resist the urge to plant a kiss right on the tip of his pink nose as it curls up.
“Fuck. Feels nice in here,” He mutters as they scan the menu, just like Su-bong figured he would. This is all part of his grand plan, after all. He knows his boy. Knows that despite his inevitable reluctance to depart back into the chilly streets, he’ll look considerably more content once he has a warm drink cradled in his hands.
And he does, looking cute as hell with the lid held close to his face, using the steam to help fight off the cold. While he’s distracted, Su-bong tries to discreetly pull out his phone, fumbling with the camera because of his thick gloves. He only manages to steal one blurry shot before Nam-gyu senses it — like he somehow always does — and whips his head back around to shut it down, a hand waving away Su-bong’s phone. “You asshole! Quit it!”
Su-bong laughs loudly, still trying to snap pictures regardless. He’ll have to go through and delete all the close-up glove shots later. “Gyuuuuu,” He pouts, making a sad face. “C’mon. You looked so cute.”
Nam-gyu’s cheeks are already pink from the cold, but Su-bong swears they get a little darker at the compliment, even if he rolls his eyes. He always gets all embarrassed about Su-bong taking pictures of him, so he has to be sneaky about his candid shots. His favorite one he’s managed to snag is his current lockscreen: a shot of Nam-gyu crouched on the ground, petting a stranger’s dog, his face scrunched up with laughter as it jumps and tries to lick his mouth. He gets to smile at it again as he concedes and locks his phone, finished with the paparazzi shots. He tucks it into his pocket, and they fall back into an easy rhythm.
They continue wandering, taking in all the sights. The streets are familiar by now, after months spent living in the area, but it almost feels like viewing it in a new lens — the odd serenity that precedes the snow casting an icy haze over the city. Somewhere down the street, someone’s playing music — what sounds like a Christmas playlist — and behind them, there’s laughter, distant and joyful.
It’s all still so… surreal, to Su-bong. To be out here not only acknowledging, but enjoying the festivities. For so many years, he could’ve cared less. Had absolutely no desire to bother with celebrating any holidays, unless they involved booze and pills. He was Thanos, after all. He had bigger shit going on. Priorities. No time for the slow shit.
Last year, he’d finally been given his lease on life back, but was still far too shaken to do anything but focus on survival. Everything was still raw in his mind by the time December rolled around and brought this atmosphere with it. Every goddamn thing was a reminder. Too much red. Too much guilt nagging at the back of his head to let himself enjoy any of it, even if he’d wanted to.
Now, though, it’s different. He’s had the time to settle the unease; to process and carefully pack it away — and now he’s spending his first cheotnun with someone who really matters. He’s excited, for the first time, to have someone to share it with. It has him feeling like a kid all over again, giddy and juvenile.
“Ugh, Su-bong!” An ex-girlfriend had once said to him, years ago. Short-lived, like all of his past relationships. “This is our first snow as a couple. Why don’t you ever want to do anything with me?” And yeah, that was probably a dick move on his end. But he hadn’t really bothered with any of the trivial relationship stuff back then, and especially didn’t stick around for the corny, lovey-dovey stuff. …Like spending a first snow with a lover.
It’s different with Nam-gyu. With him, Su-bong wants to pull out all of the stops — always. He’s never wanted to make a big deal out of spending a first snow with anyone before, yet here he is, taking Nam-gyu on a romantic walk so they can experience it together. Dragging him out in the cold just because he wants that cheesy, sentimental shit.
It’s new. He’s never been the guy to be a boyfriend before, you know? A proper one, at least, like all the swoon-worthy gentlemen in the romcoms he's seen. He always operated under the assumption that he simply wasn’t the relationship type. Didn’t suit him. The Legend Thanos wasn’t one to settle down, with or without a woman. Frankly, he always found them too confusing and overhyped for how shallow it always seemed to feel whenever he tried the whole girlfriend thing out. Not worth the effort or drama.
Nam-gyu’s just… different. Easy as breathing to fall into it, even with all the odds against them — all the shit they’d been through, both together and separate. No need for bullshit courting and subtleties; they’d just clicked, and that was it. Less pressure, too, with another guy: typical boyfriend-girlfriend roles tossed out the window. Su-bong can just kind of… be. It’s everything he didn’t realize a relationship could be. Nam-gyu’s simply his best friend, who he also gets to kiss, cuddle, and share awesome orgasms with. It’s a fucking dream, honestly.
“You know,” He says into the open air, following a few moments of contemplative silence. “This is my first cheotnun with someone. Like, properly.”
Nam-gyu looks over at him, his drink still cradled close to his face. “Yeah? It’s mine too. My exes didn’t care about this shit.”
Su-bong should’ve expected as much. He knows all about Nam-gyu’s dating history, as limited as it is. Knows he mostly preferred hookups, the no-strings-attached shit, with his actual boyfriends few and far between and always ultimately dicks in the end. Similar to Su-bong’s own experiences, in a way. Never anything too steady. Makes sense that none of Nam-gyu’s exes would’ve cared about something as trivial as celebrating a shared first snow. God knows Su-bong didn’t, all the other times he’d been a boyfriend.
“I’ve never really cared about it before,” He admits, running his thumb idly over his own cup, feeling how smooth the paper is under his skin. “Like, one of my exes got really upset when I didn’t want to do anything, but I thought it was kinda dumb. She wanted to do the whole nine yards."
“Which one?” Nam-gyu asks — casual, curious. They both know the extent of each other’s previous relationships, after all. Also new. Su-bong had never discussed exes with any other partners before; always been taught it was too taboo. Plus, all the women he’d dated had tended to upset easily, so bringing up an ex would practically be asking for a freakout. No point in rehashing the past anyway, when he was dating someone new, right?
That didn’t turn out to be the case with Nam-gyu. He can’t quite remember how that night’s conversation had ended up with them navigating hours worth of dating lore, but they’d gotten there anyway, and suddenly, some of Nam-gyu’s little things made sense. Tiny pieces of himself shaped by past experiences, like the fact that he fucking hates White Day because he’d been dumped on it, after he’d been forced to take the lead on Valentine’s. Which — crazy. If you’re both guys, why not both do something on both holidays? Or just White Day? Why make Nam-gyu do the fucking woman’s holiday?
As Nam-gyu got heated again retelling the story, Su-bong distinctly remembers feeling the insane urge to hunt the idiot down and knock his lights out for ever making Nam-gyu feel that way. Like he was anything less than the most important thing in the world.
Instead of doing that, because it was unfortunately unrealistic to hunt down a singular elusive ex, not even knowing if he was still in Seoul or not, Su-bong went all out for that upcoming White Day, just like Nam-gyu deserved the first time around. And when Valentine’s comes this year, he plans to do the same. He doesn’t care if it’s the “woman’s” holiday; Nam-gyu deserves to be spoiled, and Su-bong never misses an opportunity to do just that.
But, yeah. Su-bong can’t possibly imagine getting to rant about annoying or entitled exes to any of his past girlfriends without it becoming a huge thing. So it was nice, having the opportunity to rehash all the bullshit he’d deal with over the years and be validated by laughter at the appropriate times, or second-hand anger, or sympathetic frowns when things would get a little bleary. He knows it was the same for Nam-gyu, too. He still remembers the White Day asshole’s name because of how many times he heard it uttered with complete with scorn: Ha-joon, the fucking dick.
“Na-ri,” Su-bong answers Nam-gyu’s question, because it only makes sense that he’d remember some of his ex’s names, too.
She was always super into the romantic, showy stuff — wanted Su-bong to play a perfect boyfriend for her, like he was some damn puppy to tote around and show off. Wanted him to tone down his style, because she thought it made her look weird. Bought them matching monochrome club outfits for their one-month anniversary and even wanted him to stop painting his fucking nails, despite the fact that he’d only kept them basic black at the time. The whole relationship was an obvious disaster waiting to implode. By the end, Su-bong wasn’t quite sure he even really liked her anymore; they were just far too different.
“Ah,” Nam-gyu clicks his tongue, like it all makes sense now. “Checks. The super nitpicky one, right?”
“Yeah. Exactly,” Su-bong nods. "It felt like an obligation with her, you know? A fucking chore. But this,” He starts as he reaches for Nam-gyu’s hand again. “Is cool. I’m so excited.”
Nam-gyu’s grinning at him. Makes Su-bong’s heart flutter, even though he’s seen it directed at him a million times. “Sap. I’m excited, too. Even though I could go without freezing my fucking balls off.”
Su-bong laughs, wiggling his eyebrows. “Aww, poor Gyu-baby. I’ll warm them up for you later, yeah?”
Nam-gyu snorts, rolling his eyes. He still looks so fucking cute, even with his forehead and chin covered by his scarf and hat. Su-bong can’t resist the urge this time to lean in and stamp a kiss onto one of his red cheeks, feeling Nam-gyu’s responding squeeze to his hand.
Just a few moments later, as Nam-gyu’s observing the sky — pale and thick with heavy clouds — he gasps and points, lifting their joined hands. “Wait, holy shit! Did you see that?”
Su-bong doesn’t have to ask him what. Just peels his eyes, gripping Nam-gyu’s hand tighter as he spots another snowflake — fluttering delicately to melt almost immediately on the concrete.
“Hell yeah! It’s snowing!” He announces to the street at large. It earns him a few sideways looks, most other people wrapped up in their phones or briskly walking toward their destinations. It is a weekday; most people are probably trying to get home from work or school. He doesn’t care, though. He’s so fucking excited.
It almost feels like he’s a kid again, when he’d always barrel outside in not nearly enough layers, too excited to wait. Only adds to it that Nam-gyu’s grinning, too, squeezing his hand right back. Their first cheotnun.
“Do we make a wish?” Nam-gyu asks beside him, eyes following the flurry of snowflakes that have started falling. Another pair of children are screaming in celebration, tugging on their parents’ sleeves, jumping up and down. Su-bong watches a woman interrupt her phone conversation to tell the person on the other line, Oh, hey, it’s snowing over here.
All of it feels fucking… magical. Like Su-bong’s been dropped right into a cheesy romance drama, with all of its dramatics and grand gestures. Always thought this sort of feeling was too much with other partners; too awkward, too overkill. But now...?
A wish. He’s immediately reminded of when Nam-gyu asked him the same thing over the summer, just before he blew out his candles: Make a wish, babe!
He’s pretty sure he wished to have Nam-gyu around for even more birthdays. It’s the same immediate thought that pops into his head now, the first thing his mind goes to.
“Yeah,” He responds, a little breathless. The tiny huff he lets out clouds the air in front of him. “Yeah, make a wish, Gyu.”
Nam-gyu narrows his eyes in thought, pursing his lips. “Mm. Okay, got it.”
“That was fast,” Su-bong responds, overly fond at the cute expression on Nam-gyu’s face. His pursed lips smooth out into a smile, and he raises both eyebrows at Su-bong. “You must really want that thing, huh?”
Nam-gyu shrugs. Rubs his thumb against Su-bong’s. “Yeah. You could say that. You already got your wish?”
“Of course,” Su-bong responds in English, tapping his own forehead. “Manifestation. Intent. All that good stuff. Locked down.”
“Okay. Good,” Nam-gyu laughs, indulging him. “Now. We’ve seen the snow. I’m fucking freezing. Can we head back and watch it from the couch?”
Su-bong figured that was coming soon. Like he said, he knows his boy. Knowing him, his wish just then could’ve very well been to get back inside their warm apartment and cocoon himself inside their heated blanket. Well, more realistically, his heated blanket. Su-bong never gets much chance to use it, but he doesn’t really mind. Nam-gyu needs it more, anyway.
“Yeah, yeah. Sure thing, hon,” Su-bong turns them around, starting their trek back down the street toward their building. They didn’t make it far, only walked for maybe fifteen minutes tops. It’ll be no time before Nam-gyu’s all warmed up and happy again, practically purring in that damn blanket. Su-bong can’t wait. “And thank you, by the way,” He starts again as their hands swing between them. “For indulging me. I know it’s cold.”
Snowflakes are landing on Nam-gyu, sticking to the top of his hood momentarily before melting. Su-bong watches one land on his eyelash, breathtaking for the split second it rests there before it's blinked away. “Of course,” Nam-gyu answers, like it’s a no-brainer. “I think it’s nice that you want to do these sorts of things with me. It’s sweet.”
Su-bong wants to do all the things with Nam-gyu. Hell, his fucking wish was to have him holding his hand like this for every cheotnun that follows. He wants to have all the rest of his firsts with Nam-gyu. All the stuff he never bothered with before, because it didn’t feel the same with anyone else.
“I fucking love you,” He responds, in lieu of anything else. He feels the need to throttle something to expel all the emotion welling in his ribcage. Settles for tightly squeezing Nam-gyu’s hand, instead.
And of course Nam-gyu says it back, like always. Squeezes his hand just as tightly in return and doesn’t turn away when Su-bong leans close to stamp another kiss on the exposed bit of his forehead. Just grins and leans up to peck his cheek in return, his lips warm on cold skin. Su-bong might die, seriously, from the goddamn butterflies that have erupted in his gut, like he’s some teenage boy on his first date rather than a grown man nearly a year into a committed relationship. Like he’s not in his thirties; like he hasn’t been with other people before this.
Nobody fucking compares, though. Nobody even comes close. It’s like everyone else Su-bong thought he’d loved — or at least felt affably towards — only just barely scratched the surface of what he was capable of feeling. Didn’t realize until things just clicked with Nam-gyu, and suddenly an entire fucking separate scale of emotion was unlocked. The regular scale versus the Nam-gyu scale. Unique, just for him.
“Yeah,” He says, even though he doesn’t really need to. Nam-gyu’s still rubbing his thumb so sweetly. He needs to cuddle up with his boy ASAP. “Let’s get home. Cold as hell.”
Nam-gyu squeezes his hand one last time, and it feels like a promise. Yeah.
New Year’s Eve comes quickly, after that first snow. Su-bong feels like he blinked, and suddenly it was the end of December — a solid year since everything that’d happened, since he’d slowly started feeling alive again.
Christmas has already come and gone, another prominent first in their relationship. Very successful, all in all. Su-bong had maybe gotten a little tipsy and cried at the end of the night over how happy he was, but Nam-gyu had thought it was sweet. Even cried a little bit with him as Su-bong buried his face into his neck.
The week since has flown by, just like the rest of the year had. Soon, not long after New Year’s, their first anniversary will be coming up, too. One whole year. Su-bong almost can’t believe it. He’s had fancy-ass dinner reservations in place for months now, and took them both out to get new suits as an early present for the occasion. Nam-gyu had looked stunning. Su-bong couldn’t keep himself from staring shamelessly, watching him fuss over the details in the fitting room mirror. Nearly pounced on him right then, he’d looked so good.
He looks good all the time, though. Always breathtaking, even when he isn’t trying to be. Like, he’s gorgeous right now, even just in their kitchen with his hair tied up and flour all over his apron, his tongue wetting his lips as he focuses on measuring out ingredients. He’s making cookies. It’s seriously so cute.
He picked up the hobby a few months ago on a whim after falling down a YouTube rabbit hole, watching outrageous clips from Western baking shows that eventually led him to simpler, less dramatic recipes he could actually attempt at home. He hasn’t ventured past anything more complex than cookies (aside from a failed cake that Su-bong is banned from bringing up), but Su-bong’s been a big fan regardless. He’s always had a massive sweet tooth, so it’s been pretty fucking awesome getting to be his designated taste tester. He has the time of his life watching his sweet boyfriend whip together sweet treats.
Nam-gyu hums and extends him the spatula he’s using, offering up a little bit of residual dough. “How’s this?”
Su-bong collects some on his finger and pops it into his mouth, humming thoughtfully. Sweet. “Delicious,” He answers, nodding adamantly. He goes for another taste, swiping the lip of the mixing bowl and humming again as he tastes it, his lashes fluttering. “Mm, yeah. Those are bomb.”
“Hands off, you’re always eating all my dough,” Nam-gyu scolds, protectively taking the bowl in his arms and turning his body away. He’s smiling, though, when he looks back at Su-bong again. “Seriously, though. It’s good? Doesn’t need anything?”
Su-bong purses his lips. “Hmm. I dunno, maybe I should get another taste…?”
Nam-gyu clicks his tongue. “Limit two per customer. You’ve tasted enough.”
Su-bong sighs dramatically, leaning back onto the counter, watching Nam-gyu mix some more, the bowl tucked into his side like he’s some cute housewife. Almost looks like he should have a kid on his other hip, bouncing it while juggling a strained phone call with only his shoulder, just like all the scenes in the movies. The thought makes Su-bong’s mouth go a little dry. He doesn’t want kids, obviously, but… damn.
Even this far along, the entire… settling down thing is still sort of weird. In an awesome way, of course. It’s just — before Nam-gyu came along, Su-bong had never, ever wanted anything like this. Had no desire to constantly have any of his exes by his side, or to do something as domestic as baking cookies together. Hell, he hadn’t even wanted to move in with any of them. The entire idea of being domesticated at all honestly felt like hell. If he had a wife, or even a serious girlfriend, then his freedom was vastly limited, and for what? None of them had ever seemed worth the trouble, in the end. For the majority of his relationships, it’d be exciting initially, the sex would be decent, and then once shit started to get serious, Su-bong — or rather, Thanos — would dip. Just how he rolled. Didn’t do all the emotional stuff.
Yet he’d just been blubbering and crying to Nam-gyu the other night about how much he loved him. Actual goddamn tears fell down his face and somehow, it wasn’t even embarrassing. He was just happy. Nam-gyu had held him and kissed his wet cheeks and ran his fingers through his hair so sweetly, like he was truly precious. Like he was loved, genuinely and wholly. He’d never experienced devotion that intense; never had someone love him the way Nam-gyu does.
He always almost felt like it was a lie when other men talked about soulmates and all that other shit, because for Su-bong, he felt like no matter how hard he looked for her, how hard he tried, he simply couldn’t replicate the feelings they described. Gave up, eventually. If the right person happened to come around, then whatever, but he’d grown indifferent — began to highly doubt the likelihood of that happening. The concept of soulmates, as far as he was concerned, was just some manufactured bullshit made by pussy-whipped dudes and TV dramas.
Until Nam-gyu. Until the very foundation of all of Su-bong’s experiences and beliefs about love — the shit he’d been so certain of, for so long — came shattering down. Completely remolded, reworked around the lump in his beating heart shaped just like his boy. Freaked him the hell out, at first. The noticing. The allowing himself to feel the things pounding through his veins. He felt like he was a fumbling kid all over again with his first crush, actually fucking nervous. Clammy hands, racing heart. And the strangest part was, he’d never gotten nervous like that with anyone else. Always been confident, charming, cool — Thanos the Great — and girls ate it up, every single time.
Nam-gyu thought Thanos was cool and all, but when he came to know Su-bong, he thought he was also pretty fucking cool. Maybe even cooler. Suddenly, he didn’t need the whole act around Nam-gyu anymore. Found it surprisingly easy to drop when they were alone, despite the fact that he’d never been able to even consider the idea with anyone else — even past girlfriends. It was startlingly easy.
And maybe he played it a little dumb at first. Kept up the Thanos act in the games, especially. His thoughts had been racing, never quelled, only slightly muffled when he’d pop a pill. Like water clogging his ears. Flirt with her, it’ll look good to have a girl by your side. Show that bitch MG Coin who he messed with. Remembered the nights at Pentagon — the static sparking on his skin and low in his gut when they’d brush limbs or catch eyes across a room — and thought: Call him Nam-su, because it’d look weird if you remembered his real name, wouldn’t it? Everyone else thinks he’s just some club promoter. You can’t risk it, not here.
He had risked it, though. Still couldn’t help it, despite everything. Let Nam-gyu link their arms in Pentathlon, high out of his mind but giddy on it. A boy on his arm, slightly twisted from the image he needed to be curating, but delirious enough that he slowly stopped caring, his mind a jumbled mess of contradictions. Everyone witnessing it was most likely going to die, anyway, and it’d simply felt too fucking good to have Nam-gyu so close to stop. Juvenile, maybe. Playing house like kids. He was far too fucked in the head back then to gather all of the evidence and exactly what it meant. The fact that when given the choice, he immediately ignored the girl he’d picked out and opted for Nam-gyu, who looked all too smug to be hanging off Thanos’ arm. Proud. Different from the way Gyeong-su was excited to be teaming with him. Something more than that.
Again. Too fucked to not be an idiot about it.
Incredibly fucked, actually. Finds that more often than not, he can hardly remember any details about the week he spent in that hell. Trauma response, his doctors had told him. Threw around some fancy lingo like derealization episode, too. He hadn’t been able to tell them exactly what went down without getting a nice schizophrenia diagnosis tacked onto his file, but they got the general gist. Assumed he simply couldn’t remember his failed attempt and the week that followed it due to stress and drug use. Which... not entirely wrong. Took into account his history of depression and PTSD, too, and put him on some meds that he still keeps in a pill organizer in the bathroom. They keep his head on a little straighter these days; help keep the majority of the fog cleared.
It’s why it took him and Nam-gyu a few months to get together after the fact, actually. Su-bong had been too busy getting all his shit together, trying to ensure that he didn’t go through all that just to end up on another bridge. But even as he was getting better, he knew that whatever the hell it was that developed in those games — trauma bonding exaggerating the intrigue he’d already held toward Nam-gyu, maybe — was still present. A lot of his days were long and slow-going, spent puttering aimlessly around the facility, and he’d find himself wondering what Nam-gyu was up to: where he’d ended up, if he was doing okay. He wanted to find Nam-gyu again. Wanted to explore what exactly it was that he felt with him some more. To see if it was really something — tangible, real, terrifying — or just adrenaline and derealization contorting reality. Skewed vision; his version of events not quite right. Maybe it was all a fluke, for all he knew. Trauma bonding, like he said.
The better he got, though, the more he found himself craving it again. Wanted to try it all out for size now that he’d cleared his head — to see if it was just as good as it was back then. If it’d be better. He missed the guy, like a physical ache. Like somehow, his body knew. Missed the way Nam-gyu would smile at him, like he wasn’t just some washed-up loser, even in that place. Smiled at him, even when he was a selfish bastard. Even when his tracksuit was stained and splattered red; when he killed their own teammate — his fan — and didn’t even think twice about it in that moment. Didn’t at all, until he was in his bunk later that night, and the remorse set in: still sore and bruised from the fight in the bathroom where that bitch MG Coin almost had the audacity to stab him with a goddamn fork. Would have, if Su-bong hadn’t heard Nam-gyu being tag-teamed and tossed the cunt aside to go help him.
He hadn’t been able to keep his sobs quiet, and even though the lights weren’t out yet, Nam-gyu had been so gentle as he wordlessly climbed down into his bunk and wrapped his arms around him. Right there, where anyone could see. Caused something to shift in Su-bong. To settle quietly into place. He’d cried a little bit harder, pressing his face into Nam-gyu’s neck. Alive. Breathing.
It was different. It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was something, buried deep, that had finally started to claw its way to the surface.
Su-bong couldn’t die in that place, he’d realized. Something had finally begun to make sense, and he couldn’t fucking die before he could properly come to learn what that thing was. He’d suffered for so long. His entire life, defined by it. He deserved, for once, to want something to live for.
Nam-gyu has since become that reason, and Su-bong thinks he’s getting closer every day to cracking the code as to exactly what that thing is.
It's just. Well. Maybe there’s some sort of correlation between Nam-gyu being the first person he’s felt actual love for and Nam-gyu being the first man he’s dated. Maybe it’s just coincidence. Maybe it really, really isn’t.
He’s been quiet for too long. Nam-gyu’s side-eyeing him, the bowl set back on the counter as he starts to portion out cookies onto the baking sheet. “You’re staring.”
I might be gay, sits on the tip of his tongue. So blurtable. It’d be easy to just put it out there. The sudden desire to voice it out loud is nearly overwhelming. Nam-gyu wouldn’t think it’s weird, either. He’s gay. It’s never been weird that he’s gay, yet Su-bong can’t shake the feeling that somehow, it’d be weird for him. Different. Nam-gyu’s known his entire life. Su-bong, however, has only ever been with women, Nam-gyu aside. What kind of gay man would he be when he’s gotten off with chicks more times than he can count? Some sort of fraud, maybe. Bisexual is easier. Explains it all away. Means he doesn’t have to rationalize why he spent so long exclusively with women, when it was clear it was never going to work for him.
It’s not quite right, though. The label sits awkwardly. Doesn’t quite fit. Su-bong knows it’s a lie.
Nobody’s forcing him to say anything. Nam-gyu isn’t questioning him, or calling him out, or telling him he has to know anything. He never has. Just accepted Su-bong as he was, even back at the beginning when he was still scrubbed raw and vulnerable. Never stopped to question — wait, seriously, what’s your deal? All Nam-gyu’s done is inform him that he’s staring, which isn’t exactly some scandalous accusation. He gets distracted admiring Nam-gyu all the damn time, it’s no big secret.
“You’re handsome,” He responds, carefully boxing the rest of that internal mess and shoving it aside for later. Not the time. He’s supposed to be making cookies with his boyfriend, not ruining the moment by getting in his head. “You look pretty with your hair up.”
Nam-gyu’s next scoop is a little slower. Affected and fond. “Thank you,” He responds. So polite. It tickles Su-bong, always. “I like yours right now, too. It’s cute.”
Su-bong reaches up thoughtfully to his own overgrown undercut, the tufts of natural color that poke out from his similarly fading fringe. His roots are starting to grow out; he hasn’t touched them up in a while. It looks kind of cool, though, and knowing Nam-gyu likes it is even more incentive to just leave it be. “Yeah? You like the black?”
“It’s cool seeing your natural color,” Nam-gyu answers, his next scoop generous. “Looks nice on you.”
Huh. Maybe Su-bong really will keep letting it grow out. It’s been years since his hair hasn’t been some sort of crazy color, but… it kind of feels like the right time to go back to his roots. Literally. Thanos, tamed the way he used to swear up and down he never would be. If not by a woman, like he’d so adamantly insisted against, then by a man.
Another pang in his chest. Gay, reminded by his inner voice again. He swallows it away, watching Nam-gyu work.
It’s all hitting him hard. Out of fucking nowhere, it feels like, despite the way inklings have followed him for months. His entire life, to be completely honest, even if he’d just blatantly ignored the signs before. It’s harder to now, though. Hard to ignore the obvious proof standing right in front of him.
He stays quiet as Nam-gyu turns and slides the tray of cookies into the oven, brushing off his apron once he stands up straight again. He glances at Su-bong, sending him one of those adorable, shy smiles of his, and Su-bong smiles back, feeling his breath catch just slightly at the sight of it. Knocks him off his feet, even now. He’s down so goddamn bad for this boy it’s not even funny anymore.
Fuck. He has got to get his shit together. Seriously.
Hours later, they’re on the roof of their building. Slid into bed together just past midnight and woke up in time to bundle up and climb the stairs, hand in hand, shivering and giggling like kids sneaking out of the house. It’s still dark out, but in mere minutes, it’ll start to lighten — the first sunrise of the new year. Symbolic. Another new beginning in their book.
They huddle close in the frigid dawn. Nam-gyu is chattering already, poor thing, but this was his idea in the first place. He insisted he’d be fine, so long as Su-bong shared his body heat, so he makes it his mission to do just that. Plasters himself to Nam-gyu’s back and wraps his arms around his waist, tucking his chin into his neck as they both stare out at the dark city sprawling ahead of them.
It starts orange. Dark and vibrant, starting to lighten the city. Then, strips of pink — nearly red — blend like pastels, oozing on canvas. It’s gorgeous as it casts across the city, but even prettier the way it lights up Nam-gyu’s skin. He’s practically glowing, like he belongs right here under the sunrise forever. His freckles are darker, more prominent, and Su-bong can’t resist turning and smushing his face against Nam-gyu’s cheek, pressing kisses to them. Finds he can’t stop himself from staring at Nam-gyu, instead of the view in front of them.
“Nam-gyu,” He breathes out, pressing his forehead flush to skin, his nose nudging Nam-gyu's cheekbone. “I love you. So fucking much.”
Nam-gyu’s laughing, a fond smile plastered across his face. He’s so perfect. Su-bong wants him to always be smiling; wants to kiss his beautiful teeth. He turns enough to rest their foreheads together properly, noses brushing as they exchange breaths in the small space between them — huffed out laughs that fog from the cold.
“I know,” Nam-gyu responds, a soft murmur. “I love you, too. My boy.” The way he says it nearly knocks the wind out of Su-bong’s lungs. He seriously can’t breathe. Just laughs again, so deliriously happy, and closes the short distance to kiss Nam-gyu, feeling the contact light up his body, like he’s got fireflies caught beneath his skin.
Nam-gyu kisses him like it means something, even this far in. Everything else fades out — nothing matters except this. Su-bong and Nam-gyu, at the top of the world, the last people standing. Nam-gyu’s always made him feel this way. Special. Important. Not quite so alone.
“Seriously,” Su-bong whispers between kisses, a hand releasing from Nam-gyu’s waist to cradle his jaw. “I can’t. You’re the—” Kiss. “—love of my—” Kiss. Again, harder, like he’s trying to swallow the very words from Su-bong’s mouth. “—life.”
Nam-gyu makes a noise against his mouth that sounds vaguely emotional. Cups both of his hands on either side of Su-bong’s face and holds him tightly, deepening the kiss. His tongue is warm, a welcome embrace compared to the cold that seeps through the places where they aren’t touching.
When they part again, neither of them can stop themselves from staring. One of Nam-gyu’s thumbs brushes Su-bong’s cheekbone so tenderly that he thinks he may melt, just like the first snowflakes that landed on Nam-gyu’s skin last month.
Su-bong thinks he has a resolution. Something to ring in the New Year. A promise to himself that this will be the year he figures his shit out, for good. Where he straightens all the crossed wires left in his head and swallows the anxious lumps in his throat when they come, instead of fleeing and coughing them up. He shouldn’t have any room left to be a coward anymore. Not like this, when he’s survived so much. Not when he has a boyfriend who loves him unconditionally and understands him like nobody else can. No room left for judgement there.
He glances to the side, catching the view of the city bathed in glowing coals, waking up. Cars skitter by like ants, everything suddenly so goddamn small. Inconsequent. It’s fucking beautiful. “Nam-gyu, I…”
The growing sunlight streaks across Nam-gyu’s face. It surprises even Su-bong when his mouth opens and suddenly the words are tumbling — tumbling, gone, out in the open air, sounding far more casual than his pounding heart feels.
“I’m gay.”
It settles over Su-bong fast. He swallows thickly. Recognizes how real it feels, all of a sudden, to say it out loud. To say it to the one person whose opinion he values most. The only one when it comes to this, really. He’s gay. Doesn’t think so. Is. Just like Nam-gyu, who’s staring at him, the prolonged eye contact making Su-bong feel like his knees might give out.
It’s quiet for a moment. Then:
“Okay.”
“...Okay?”
“Yeah,” Nam-gyu breathes. “Okay.”
Su-bong feels his jaw tighten just slightly, his fingers twitching against the side of Nam-gyu’s neck. “No, Nam-gyu. I said I’m gay.”
The corners of Nam-gyu’s lips twitch. “I know. I heard you. You’re gay.” Easy. Nam-gyu makes it all sound like it’s so easy. Simple. A fact of life. Not a big deal, like Su-bong was making it out to be. He’s gay. So what? He’s been gay. This is just him saying the scary part out loud. Confirmation. “What did you want me to say, hyung? I’m happy for you. I’m glad you feel comfortable telling me.”
Wait. Motherfucking confirmation. Not just for him, but for—
“Did you know?” He balks, because apparently he can’t control what words leave his mouth at all anymore. He doesn’t bite his tongue around Nam-gyu in the first place, but this is just — there’s no way. Nam-gyu is fucking nodding. “How — Jesus, how long?”
Nam-gyu’s eyes flick upward, his lips pursing just slightly the cute way they always do when he’s thinking. “March last year, I think?” Two months in. Almost the entire time, Nam-gyu had fucking known, yet… it didn’t seem to make any difference. Makes some of the tension in his shoulders deflate. It’s okay. It’s been okay, for longer than he’s even realized. “The way you talked about your exes, it was kind of obvious. To me, at least.”
Yeah, no shit. Su-bong didn’t actually like any of them, he’s come to discover. Only thought he did because he was supposed to. “And you didn’t say anything?”
“Why would I have?” Nam-gyu tilts his head just slightly. “It’s not my place to tell you anything, Su-bong. That’s your thing.”
Su-bong supposes he has a point, although it would’ve been nice to know this months ago, before he started despairing over it. “I guess.” He mutters, eyes drifting off toward the sunrise on the horizon again. Loud and bright, matching the rapid thoughts swirling through his head. He knew all along. It’s okay.
“Hey,” Nam-gyu's voice draws him back in, his hand still cradling Su-bong’s cheek. Applying pressure just slightly, enough to force him to meet his eyes again. “I hear you, Su-bong. Okay? You’re gay. And that’s fine. I love you.”
“Yeah,” He breathes out, corners of his mouth twitching. “I love you, too," He repeats, just as his lips brush over Nam-gyu’s.
They hold each other close as the sun continues its slow ascent over the city, mouths moving together sweetly, Nam-gyu’s hands still cupping Su-bong’s face so tenderly. When Su-bong’s hands fall to Nam-gyu’s waist — tugging him in, enveloping him in his arms — Nam-gyu shudders against him, a quiet breath panted into Su-bong’s open mouth.
“Let’s get inside,” Su-bong murmurs, pulling back with half-lidded eyes just enough to look at Nam-gyu, who looks similarly dazed. “It’s fucking cold.”
“Su-bong, look. You can’t laugh, okay?”
Nam-gyu’s got both of his hands over Su-bong’s eyes, neither of them able to stop giggling at each other. It’s nice, having Nam-gyu plastered to his back, all solid and warm, even though it was a little terrifying trusting him to maneuver them to wherever this supposed surprise is. The kitchen or living room, maybe; they didn’t walk far.
“No promises,” Su-bong answers, playfully wriggling his ass back against Nam-gyu just to be a bit of a dick. He laughs at the surprised gasp from behind him, bordering on scandalized.
“Stop it!” Nam-gyu exasperates again, but his voice is high with laughter. “This is serious, hyung. I tried my best. So… don’t make fun of me, alright?”
“Gyuuuu. I won’t. Can I look now?”
Nam-gyu hums an affirmative, finally removing his hands from Su-bong’s eyes. It takes him a second to blink back into focus, figuring out what he’s supposed to be looking at, and—
He gasps, eyes landing on a cake on the counter.
“Gay?” He reads, light blue icing meticulously — albeit slightly shakily — written across the top. There’s little dollops of various shades of blue around the edges, accented with white. “Nam-gyu,” He gasps again, spinning to look at him. “Did you— is this—?”
A gay cake. A motherfucking gay cake.
“I made it,” Nam-gyu confirms, knowing the question without Su-bong having to voice it. He’s not sure he even could right now, so he appreciates it. “The writing was a bitch. I’m glad I didn’t go with something more long-winded, like ‘Congrats on coming out!’ But… it’s the same sentiment.”
Su-bong’s lower lip wobbles. Holy fuck. Nam-gyu made him a cake. He’d sworn off cakes, after the infamous disaster in their oven the first time he tried; the very one that Su-bong is barred from ever mentioning. Fuck, he even iced it so beautifully, despite his consistent complaints about icing being difficult as hell to make neat and pretty. It’s got gay colors. It’s got the word gay on it. It’s… one of the most thoughtful things anyone has ever done for Su-bong.
It shouldn’t be a surprise when he feels his eyes starting to get wet. When his face scrunches up all helplessly the way it always does when he’s emotional, his throat tightening. “Nam-gyu,” He says again, all watery. “This is so—” He lets out an embarrassing noise, a little choked. “—fucking sweet. Thank you.”
Nam-gyu’s own eyes go wide as he watches Su-bong start crying, like maybe he wasn’t expecting this sort of reaction. They immediately go soft, though, as he pulls Su-bong into his arms, squeezing him tightly. “Of course, baby,” He responds, so quiet and sincere. His boy. His sweet fucking boy.
Su-bong presses his face into Nam-gyu’s neck, trying to blink away the tears clumping in his lashes. He fists the fabric of Nam-gyu’s hoodie in his hands, pressing a few idle kisses to the skin and fabric his mouth brushes across, and when Nam-gyu twists slightly to press a kiss to his hair, Su-bong can’t help but grasp even tighter, breathing him in deeply. He smells so amazing. Like home.
“You’re the best boyfriend ever,” Su-bong informs Nam-gyu’s neck. “You’re so perfect, Gyu. I mean it. This is so sweet,” He prattles on, sniffling like an idiot. “I love you so much. Seriously.”
Nam-gyu pets over his hair, letting him babble. This is becoming far too common an occurrence, Su-bong’s finding. This is far from the first time he’s bawled to Nam-gyu about how much he loves him, like some big sappy idiot. It should be mortifying, but — somehow it just isn’t. Nam-gyu never makes anything feel that way. Su-bong’s allowed to be as weird and pathetic and clingy as he wants, and Nam-gyu won’t ever bat an eye. Being in love is fucking awesome.
“Do you want me to cut you a piece?” Nam-gyu asks into Su-bong’s hair after another minute of holding each other, gentle hands running up and down his back.
The cake is so beautiful that Su-bong almost doesn’t even want to cut it up. Wants to freeze it and keep it forever sealed away in prime condition, or send it to a museum so it can be displayed for the world to see. Wants to forever have the physical proof on hand to brag about. This boy loves me. This boy wants to celebrate my accomplishments with me.
He nods regardless, though, straightening up and wiping his eyes. A picture will also do just fine. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds great, Gyu.”
It’s sweet, very much so, as are Nam-gyu’s lips later when they share a kiss — sugary and stained blue.