Work Text:
December 10
15 days until Christmas
“I think,” Suho said, staring down at his soju, his fingers wrapped so tightly around the shot glass they barely fit, “that Sieun and Juntae are seeing each other.”
At that confession, neither Park Humin—Baku—nor Go Hyuntak—Gotak—said a word.
No comment. No sound.
So, Suho lifted his head and looked at them.
“I mean. Romantically.”
For a few seconds, it was impossible to tell whether either of them thought he was joking, or completely serious.
Then, suddenly, Baku choked and spit out half his drink in a desperate attempt not to suffocate. A few drops of soju splashed straight onto Suho’s face. Suho squeezed his eyes shut on instinct, reopening them only once Baku wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Gotak, meanwhile, simply raised his eyebrows.
“...Huh?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Baku demanded, clutching his throat where the alcohol had gone down the wrong way.
“I’m telling you, that’s how it is,” Suho said, downing the rest of his glass in one go.
A second later, Baku refilled Suho’s glass without hesitation.
Gotak stayed quiet, watching.
“And what makes you think that?” Baku pressed, pouring himself another shot.
Suho shrugged, like everything he was saying had already been reviewed, approved, and notarized.
“I’ve been asking him to hang out for days,” he said. “And he’s always busy. Always with Juntae.”
“Well, they’re friends,” Baku said, spinning his glass on the table without drinking. “I don’t see what’s so weird about that.”
“I’m his friend too,” Suho shot back. “And yet he never has time for me. Sieunie always used to make time for me.”
Baku’s mouth twisted into a confused grimace. Gotak leaned forward, elbows on the table.
“And even if they were,” Gotak said calmly, eyes fixed on Suho, “why do you care?”
Suho’s face turned the exact color of gochujang.
“W-What do you mean, why do I care?” he snapped. “Of course I care!”
“That part is obvious,” Gotak replied. “I’m asking why.”
“Because…” Suho started, his face heating all the way to the tips of his ears. His eyes darted around the table, like he was desperately searching for the right answer.
“Because… I’m his best friend. And he didn’t tell me anything. Best friends should be the first to know these things.”
Gotak stared at him for a few seconds longer, eyes narrowing slightly. Then he waved a hand and leaned back.
“Yeah. Sure.”
Suho frowned even harder, deep lines forming between his brows.
“Okay,” Baku said suddenly. “Let’s test it.”
“A test?” Suho asked.
“Call him. Ask him to come drink with you,” Baku said, nodding toward the phone next to Suho’s glass. “Let’s see what he says.”
“Call him?” Suho echoed.
“Yes. Call him.”
“Yeah,” Gotak added flatly. “Call him.”
Suho hesitated, glancing between them, then finally reached for his phone.
“O-Okay.”
He tapped Sieun’s contact and hit call, putting it on speaker.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
As the phone rang, Suho slowly lowered his head toward the screen, following the rhythm of each unanswered tone.
“Hello?”
Sieun answered on the fourth ring.
Suho jolted upright, then immediately looked at Gotak and Baku. Baku started flailing his arms, mouthing an exaggerated go, go.
“Suho-ya?” Sieun said on the other end.
Suho cleared his throat, trying, and failing, to sound casual.
“Sieun-ah. I’m in a bar.”
“In a bar?”
Suho glanced at Baku again. This time, Baku gave him a confident thumb-up.
“Yeah. I’m sitting on a chair.”
“On a chair,” Sieun repeated slowly. “By yourself?”
“Y-Yeah,” Suho said, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he followed Baku’s advice, Baku miming a noose around both his and Gotak’s necks.
“Why?”
“Well, because…” Suho looked around, then back at his phone. “It’s December tenth, and it’s cold, and the bar was open. And… what do you do at a bar? You sit on a chair, right?”
Gotak narrowed his eyes just slightly, like he was trying to pinpoint the exact moment Suho had decided to sabotage himself.
Baku grimaced, like he’d just witnessed a catastrophic failure in real time.
“Suho-ya,” Sieun said after a short pause, “are you drunk?”
Suho blinked twice.
“Me? N-No! I’m not drunk.”
“Okay,” Sieun said.
Suho swallowed. “Do you… want to come join me?”
Another pause.
Then a quiet sigh reached all three of them.
“I can’t.”
“Oh,” Suho said, eyebrows lifting. “Are you busy?”
Sieun’s answer came immediately.
“Yeah, I’m at Juntae’s place. We’re studying.”
Suho slowly lifted his gaze from the phone and looked at Baku.
The expression on his face was that of someone who had just received the most obvious confirmation imaginable.
December 15
10 days until Christmas
Suho was sprawled on his couch, his back pressed against the cushions, in the living room of his apartment. His face was glued to the dark screen of his phone.
The message he’d sent to the group chat with Sieun, Gotak, Baku, and Juntae, had been delivered two minutes ago.
No replies.
The cold in the air already felt like a warning, echoing what the weather forecast had said just the day before: chances were high that the first snow would fall on December 24.
Suho turned his phone screen back on and, unable to stop himself, tapped into the message info.
Read by Baku.
Read by Gotak.
Delivered to Sieun and Juntae.
Suho raised an eyebrow.
And yet, his message had been perfectly normal:
Guys, Risk tonight at the restaurant?
He’d tagged everyone.
Baku started typing.
Baku: I’m in. Let’s gooo?
Gotak: ok
Baku: @Sieun @Juntae?
At that single line, Suho shot upright on the couch and leaned closer to the screen. Both Juntae and Sieun were typing.
Juntae: sorry guys, I can’t make it tonight.
Suho frowned. Sieun was still typing.
Then stopping.
Then typing again.
And then nothing.
Suho opened the text field and started typing wildly, fingers flying, deleting almost immediately.
Sieun-ah…
Delete.
What do you have to do, Juntae?
Delete.
Sieun-ah, you’re with Juntae, right?
Delete.
Then the reply finally came.
Suho’s eyes widened.
Sieun: I can’t either.
Suho’s jaw practically dropped, his mouth hanging open like it had come loose from its hinges.
But then, an idea.
He quickly created a new group chat, adding only Gotak and Baku.
Suho: did you see that
Baku: ?
Gotak reacted with a like to Baku’s message
Suho: Sieun and Juntae both can’t come tonight
Baku: yeah, that sucks. What’s fun of playing Risk only in three?
Suho: who cares about Risk. This is proof. They’re definitely dating.
As soon as he sent it, Suho’s heart started beating faster.
Baku: you think so?
Suho: I’m telling you, that’s exactly what it is.
Gotak: why don’t you just ask them?
Suho: you ask.
Gotak: I don’t care whether they’re together or not
Baku: ok then, I’ll ask for you!
“No! What the fuck are you doing?!” Suho shouted out loud, horrified.
Suho: STOP, idiot!
At lightning speed, Suho switched back to the main group chat and saw that Baku was typing.
Panicking, Suho started typing too and sent his message without thinking.
Suho: it’s not true that I want to know!
Baku: okay then, let’s reschedule. No fun playing with just three people.
Suho nearly choked on his own saliva when he read it.
Then, in a flash, he jumped back into the chat with Baku and Gotak.
Suho: you’re an asshole!
Baku: ?
Gotak reacted with a like to Baku’s message.
Suho let his shoulders slump, releasing a long, heavy sigh. It felt like he’d just climbed Everest—only to realize he hadn’t actually reached the summit.
Then his phone vibrated again.
He opened the group chat.
Juntae had replied directly to him.
Juntae: everything okay, Suho-ya?
Suho: yeah yeah, wrong chat
Everyone had seen it.
No one replied.
December 20
5 days until Christmas
Suho was walking beside Baku with no real destination in mind, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.
He’d gone out that afternoon intending to buy a gift for his grandmother, and one for Sieun, despite the fact that he hadn’t seen him in days. Despite being completely, tragically convinced that Sieun and Juntae were a couple now, probably walking around somewhere hand in hand at that very moment.
The thought sent a shiver crawling up the back of his neck.
“I told you we should’ve bought food first,” Baku was saying. “This place is packed. It’s gonna take forever.”
Suho wasn’t really listening. He only realized they’d wandered into the Christmas market when rows and rows of bare fir trees appeared in front of him, lined up neatly, waiting to become Christmas trees.
“Did you hear me?” Baku asked.
Suho blinked.
“Hm?”
Baku sighed. “Forget it.”
That was when Suho saw them.
Not right away.
First, he noticed movement, two people stopping in front of one of the trees farther down, beneath a string of warm lights hanging between the stalls.
Then he recognized the jacket.
Then the posture.
Then there was no doubt left.
“Baku,” Suho said quietly.
“What now?”
“Baku,” he repeated, gripping his arm. “Look.”
Baku followed his gaze.
“Oh.”
A few meters away, Sieun and Juntae were standing in front of a Christmas tree.
Sieun was leaning forward slightly, his hands tucked into the sleeves of his coat, studying the shape of the tree with almost excessive focus. Juntae stood beside him, pointing at something lower down, probably the base.
Sieun shook his head.
Juntae laughed.
Something tightened painfully in Suho’s stomach.
“Well, look at that,” Baku muttered.
Sieun stepped back, tilting his head like he was trying to picture the tree already set up somewhere. He said something.
Juntae nodded.
They were in sync.
Too in sync.
“They’re picking out a tree,” Baku said.
“Yes,” Suho replied immediately. “I can see that.”
They stayed where they were.
Sieun moved to another tree, brushing the branches with two fingers, testing them. Juntae watched him, arms crossed.
“That’s… a very couple-y thing to do,” Suho added, jaw tight.
“It’s Christmas,” Baku said carefully.
“Hm.”
Suho swallowed.
“He’s picturing it in their living room.”
“Suho.”
“With the lights. And the ornaments.”
“Suho!”
“Hm?”
“Breathe.”
In front of them, Sieun said something and Juntae laughed.
A short laugh. Soft. Intimate.
“Oh,” Suho said. “Sieun makes him laugh.”
“Wow,” Baku commented flatly.
Juntae pointed at another tree. Sieun followed him. They walked side by side, weaving through people with a coordination Suho found deeply irritating.
“They walk at the same pace,” Suho observed.
“It’s a couple skill,” Baku said. “They teach it at couple school.”
Suho didn’t even react to the joke. His eyes burned from how hard he was trying to read every micro-expression on Sieun’s face.
Sieun brushed the branches of another tree.
Juntae watched him.
“He likes that one,” Suho said.
“How do you know?” Baku asked.
“It’s symmetrical. Sieun likes symmetrical things.”
“Suho.”
“And look,” he continued, nodding toward them. “Juntae knows.”
“Ah, Suho.”
Decision made.
Sieun gave a small, decisive nod. Juntae waved over the vendor.
Suho felt something hit him hard in the chest.
“Okay.”
“Okay what?” Baku asked, confused.
“Okay, that’s enough. Let’s go.”
He took two steps. Then stopped. Took one step back.
“No, wait.”
“No,” Baku said, grabbing his arm.
“Five seconds.”
“You’re being dramatic!”
“I just want to see which one they pick.”
“Why do you even care?” Baku asked, trying to pull him the other way.
“I care.”
He twisted out of Baku’s grip and moved forward.
Not toward them.
But close enough to be legally questionable.
Baku followed with the resigned expression of someone who knew this would end badly.
Sieun was talking to the vendor, gesturing slowly, spreading his arms like he was measuring the tree in the space.
“He’s already deciding where it goes,” Suho whispered. “Living room corner. One hundred percent.”
“Of course,” Baku said. “Their house. Their corner.”
“Right?” Suho asked, desperate for confirmation.
“Have you lost your mind?” Baku said, but Suho was already staring again.
Juntae nodded.
The vendor grabbed a rope.
Suho’s eyes widened.
“They’re tying it up!”
“It’s a tree, Suho. What else would they do?”
“It’s symbolic. It means they’re tied together now.”
At that moment, Sieun suddenly turned, right in their direction.
Suho reacted on instinct, ducking behind a wooden crate filled with dry branches and nearly tripping.
Baku looked down at him.
“You just hid behind a pile of sticks.”
“Shh.”
“Suho. I can see you. Do you realize that?”
Sieun glanced their way for half a second, then turned back to Juntae.
Suho slowly stood up.
“He didn’t see me.”
“No,” Baku said. “But your dignity definitely did.”
The vendor handed over the tree.
Juntae grabbed one side.
Sieun grabbed the other.
They lifted it together.
“They’re carrying it together,” Suho said hollowly. “Together.”
“This is the moment the couple becomes official,” Baku said. “Congratulations to them.”
Sieun and Juntae disappeared into the crowd.
Suho stood still for a few seconds. Then nodded.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Baku asked.
“I’ve seen enough.”
“What else do you want to see? They’re gone,” Baku said, then looked at him.
“Suho.”
“Yeah?”
“They’re not together.”
Suho stared at him.
“…excuse me?”
Baku sighed.
“Never mind.”
Suho nodded, his heart breaking into a thousand pieces.
He was absolutely right.
December 24
One day until Christmas
The two tickets to Busan Suho had bought, along with a two-night stay at a seaside hot spring hotel, felt like bricks in the back pocket of his jeans.
He could almost feel them shifting, coming alive, trying to escape to some distant land called this is never going to happen, while he sat on Baku’s couch with Gotak and Baku on either side of him.
They’d invited him over to watch a movie, mostly to keep him company after weeks of his increasingly unhinged complaints about the alleged love story that had apparently blossomed overnight between Sieun and Juntae.
In truth, he hadn’t seen Sieun in over two weeks.
“That guy could demolish five buckets of fried chicken in under five minutes,” Baku commented, pointing at the TV.
The movie had somehow devolved into a stupid competitive eating show.
“Yeah, just like you,” Gotak said flatly. “Why don’t you sign up?”
On screen, the contestant was already drenched in sweat, shoving yet another piece of fried chicken into his mouth.
“I could,” Baku said, considering it.
“I hope they at least pay you a ridiculous amount of money,” Suho muttered, eyes still glued to the screen.
“More or less,” Baku replied. “I read the first prize is a luxury trip to Busan!”
Suho promptly choked on absolutely nothing.
“Hey, are you okay?” Baku asked.
“Y-yeah,” Suho said quickly, thinking about how absurd life’s coincidences could be.
He shifted slightly on the couch.
The tickets protested.
He grimaced.
Gotak had been watching him in silence for a while.
“You’re moving like you’ve got something shoved up your ass,” he said finally.
Baku burst out laughing.
“Gotak!”
“I’m just making an observation.”
Suho stiffened.
“I don’t have anything.”
“Mmh,” Gotak hummed, clearly unconvinced.
On the TV, the contestant collapsed face-first onto the table, defeated.
“See?” Baku said. “That’s what happens when you don’t know when to stop. That idiot could’ve at least taken second place.”
Suho nodded slowly.
“Yeah.”
Silence settled.
“Anyway,” Baku continued, “it’s Christmas Eve.”
“Yeah,” Suho echoed.
“It’s a couples day,” Baku added. “People do romantic stuff.”
Suho clenched his jaw.
“Like what?” he asked, pretending not to care.
Baku shrugged, then glanced at him. “Like Christmas trees. Walking hand in hand waiting for the first snow, which, by the way, is supposed to fall tonight. Couple things, you know.”
Suho felt his heart speed up by half a beat.
Only half. He was still in control.
“I don’t get why people stress about it so much,” he said. “If you want to do something romantic, you just do it. You don’t wait for Christmas.”
Gotak tilted his head slightly.
“Oh yeah?”
“Yeah,” Suho went on. “I mean, if I were in love with someone…”
Both Baku and Gotak turned to look at him at the exact same time.
Suho froze.
“… hypothetically,” he added immediately.
“Of course,” Baku said, nodding with exaggerated seriousness.
Gotak said nothing. He just raised an eyebrow.
“I’m saying,” Suho continued, speeding up, “that I wouldn’t make such a big deal out of it. I wouldn’t disappear for weeks. I’d find some time to go out instead of always making excuses.”
“Mmh,” Gotak said.
Baku nodded along, fully invested in Suho’s unraveling monologue.
“I’d be… normal,” Suho concluded. “Present. Always.”
A sudden silence fell.
“Like buying tickets to Busan?” Baku asked innocently.
Suho went pale.
“…excuse me?”
Baku looked at him. “Just an example.”
Gotak finally took his eyes off the TV.
“Why Busan?”
Suho swallowed. “I- I didn’t say Busan.”
“You did,” Gotak replied.
“No.”
“Yes,” Baku chimed in. “You did.”
Suho opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
“You said it, idiot,” he snapped at Baku.
“Oops,” Baku said, entirely unapologetic. “I saw you earlier, staring at them with heart-shaped eyes.”
“Hey!” Suho protested.
Silence again.
“And who are they for?” Gotak asked calmly.
Suho scratched the back of his neck.
“For me.”
“You said there were two,” Gotak said, then turned to Baku. “Didn’t he say two tickets?”
“Yep,” Baku confirmed. “Two.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Suho insisted, but neither of them listened.
Gotak moved and leaned against the back of the couch behind Suho, like a judge ready to deliver a verdict.
“So,” he said quietly. “Who are they for?”
Suho felt cornered.
He sighed, shoulders dropping.
“For… someone.”
“Someone,” Baku repeated. “One person.”
“Who isn’t coming,” Suho added far too quickly.
Gotak stared at him for a few seconds.
“Suho.”
“Yeah?” Suho looked up at him.
“When are you going to admit you’re in love with Sieun?”
The sentence landed in the room like a brick.
Suho laughed, sharp, nervous.
“Me? In love? Don’t be ridiculous.”
“Oh,” Baku said. “Okay.”
“No, I mean—” Suho tried again. “It’s not, I mean, maybe, but…”
Baku raised a finger.
“Stop.”
Suho froze.
“Sometimes you’re really dumb,” Baku said. Suho frowned, but before he could protest, Baku kept going.
“You think Sieun is with Juntae.”
“I’m sure of it.”
“You’re jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.”
Gotak rolled his eyes.
“You bought him tickets for a romantic trip.”
“It’s not romantic,” Suho snapped. “It’s just a normal trip!”
“And you’re here,” Baku finished, “watching us eating snacks and commenting on stupid competitive eating shows while right now Juntae is probably holding Sieun’s pretty hand.”
Suho’s jaw tightened. Suddenly, he really wanted to use Park Humin’s face as a personal punching bag.
“Or worse,” Baku added cheerfully, “kissing him in front of the Christmas tree they picked out together.”
That did it.
Suho grabbed Baku by the collar.
“Say that again,” he growled, “if you’ve got the guts.”
Gotak sighed.
“See? Idiot,” Baku said, struggling a bit. “Instead of getting mad at me, consider that right now Sieun could be in someone else’s arms.”
Suho tightened his grip.
“Those soft lips,” Baku continued recklessly, “just waiting to be kissed under the mistletoe…”
“PARK HUMIN.”
“What? It’s Christmas. Couples do that on Christmas!”
Suho let go abruptly and jumped to his feet.
Baku stared up at him, confused. “Hey, where are you going?”
“To confess my love to Sieunie,” Suho said solemnly.
Gotak nodded, like he was witnessing something inevitable.
“Finally.”
“Thank God,” Gotak added.
Suho bolted for the door.
Christmas Eve
The first snow begins to fall
“Fuck,” Suho muttered as he ran toward Sieun’s apartment, his heart pounding in his chest, the tickets slapping against his thigh like they were mocking him.
He checked the time and, stupidly, thought he was still on time.
He had to be.
By the time he reached Sieun’s front door, his heartbeat was so loud he could feel it in his ears. He punched in the door code too fast, his fingers slipping, and shoved the handle down with more force than necessary.
If he found Sieun tangled up with Juntae, what would he even do?
The thought hit him like a slap to the face, and right then and there he decided he would do anything to separate them.
Even use a chainsaw, if it came to that.
When he burst inside, breathless and dizzy with adrenaline, the apartment was dark, except for the living room, where soft, blinking lights spilled into the hallway.
The Christmas tree, Suho thought.
Fuck.
“Sieun-ah,” he called out, taking long strides toward the living room. His phone buzzed violently against his leg.
He ignored it.
“Yeon Sieun!”
He stepped into the living room, and Sieun spun around in surprise, phone still pressed to his ear, eyes wide.
“Sieun, where’s Juntae?” Suho blurted out.
Sieun lifted an eyebrow.
“Juntae?” He pulled the phone away, switching it off and slipped it into his pocket.
“Sieun-ah” Suho repeated, panting. He crossed the room and grabbed Sieun by the shoulders.
Sieun startled.
“Suho-ya, what’s going on?”
Suho blinked a few times, like he’d just remembered that normal people didn’t barge into apartments shouting like that.
Then his grip tightened.
“Where is he?”
“Where is who…?”
“Juntae.”
Sieun went still, his confused gaze flicking between Suho’s eyes and his hands.
“Juntae isn’t here,” he said slowly. “Why would he be?”
Suho stared at him. His breathing had evened out, but his heart was still completely out of control.
“Okay. Never mind. Listen to me, Sieun-ah…”
“Suho-ya, wait…” Sieun started, but Suho’s hands tightened again, his thumbs brushing Sieun’s collarbones.
“No. Listen. I don’t want you to be with Juntae.”
Sieun raised an eyebrow.
Suho shook his head, as if reinforcing the point.
“I don’t want you with him. I don’t want you with anyone else.”
“S-Suho…” Sieun said uncertainly. His lips trembled slightly, his cheeks flushing pink, the color spreading all the way to the tips of his ears.
Suho noticed, and forced himself not to get distracted by how unbearably soft and cute he looked.
He shook his head again.
He had a mission, and judging by how hard his heart was pounding, he was seconds away from completing it.
His hands slid from Sieun’s shoulders, slowly tracing upward along his neck until they finally cupped his face.
Suho immediately thought that Sieun’s cheeks were warm. And soft.
“Suho-ya?” Sieun whispered, barely audible.
“I want you to be with me,” Suho said all at once, then sucked in a breath. Sieun blinked hard, then stared at him.
“I want to be the one who chooses the Christmas tree with you. I want to be the one holding your hand when the first snow falls…”
His voice cracked halfway through.
He stopped, hands still cradling Sieun’s face, thumbs resting against his flushed cheeks.
Silence.
Then he exhaled softly, still looking straight into Sieun’s eyes.
“I’m in love with you, Yeon Sieun. I probably always have been.” A small smile tugged at his lips as his thumbs brushed gently against Sieun’s cheeks. “So please… tell Juntae to back off and spend Christmas with me.”
Suho lowered his gaze for just a second, missing the way Sieun’s eyes filled with tears.
“Suho-ya…”
Sieun’s voice trembled.
Suho looked back up immediately, alarmed by the sound. His hands stilled, suddenly unsure.
“Hey…” he said quickly. “Sieun, I’m sorry, I—”
“Suho.”
Sieun said his name more firmly this time, anchoring him in place.
Suho fell silent.
Sieun took a deep breath. When he spoke again, his voice was lower, fragile.
“Juntae has nothing to do with this.”
Suho blinked. “Really?”
“There was never anything to ‘back off from,’” Sieun said softly. His hands lifted, trembling as they settled over Suho’s wrists, not to push him away, but to keep him there.
“He helped me,” Sieun added. “With this.”
His gaze shifted to the blinking lights around them.
Only then did Suho really see the room.
The living room lay in half-light, illuminated by the glow of the Christmas tree, the same one Suho had seen them buy. Warm lights, ornaments, scented candles everywhere.
Suho slowly took it all in. When his eyes returned to Sieun, he dropped his gaze, shy.
Suho opened his mouth, but Sieun looked back up first. His hands slid into Suho’s, and in a move Suho never expected, Sieun closed his eyes and squeezed his fingers.
He exhaled deeply. Then opened his eyes.
“Juntae helped me set this up,” he said, cheeks burning red. “For tonight. For you.”
“F-for me?” Suho echoed.
Sieun nodded.
“I—I’m not good at this,” he admitted quietly.
His fingers tightened around Suho’s.
“All my life, I felt like something already written. A script to follow. An expectation to meet.” He looked down. “Like some kind of machine that kept moving just because that’s what you’re supposed to do.”
Suho’s chest tightened.
“I’ve always been alone,” Sieun continued. “And I thought the gray I lived in was normal. That it was enough. I studied, I did what was expected of me, and I told myself it was fine and that’s what I wanted too. I’d die eventually anyway.”
A faint, bitter smile appeared on his face.
“I didn’t know all these colors existed.”
He looked back up at Suho.
“Then I met you.”
His voice wavered.
“And you broke everything.”
A pause.
“In the best possible way.”
The lights from the tree reflected in his eyes, making them shine.
“With you… the world suddenly had billions of colors. And now I can’t even remember how I lived before you.”
He inhaled slowly.
“Sometimes even being with people I care about tires me. I need silence. Space. I need to come back to who I was, just to keep my pieces together.”
Another pause.
His grip tightened.
“But not with you.”
Suho felt his chest ache.
“When you’re close,” Sieun whispered, “my heart races. And when you’re not… it hurts.”
He looked down briefly.
“And I didn’t know how to tell you.”
He lifted his gaze again, eyes full.
“I didn’t know how to do something nice for you. Something you’d love.”
A small, shy smile.
“So I asked for help. Because I know you like loud, shiny and over-the-top things.”
Suho felt a sob rise in his throat.
“I chose the tree,” Sieun finished. “The lights. All of this.”
A long pause.
“To tell you that I’m in love with you too.”
Silence.
“Probably always have been,” he added quietly.
Suho couldn’t see clearly anymore. The lights blurred, Sieun’s face softened into a trembling shape.
Tears filled his eyes without him even realizing.
So he did the only thing he could.
He tightened his hands on Sieun’s face, thumbs brushing warm, trembling skin.
He leaned in, slowly. So slowly.
“Sieun-ah,” he murmured, but the name disappeared between them.
Sieun didn’t pull away.
He took a small step forward.
When their lips touched, it was light. Hesitant. A kiss that felt like a question.
Then Sieun sighed, and everything steadied.
The kiss deepened, warmer, surer, as if they both finally understood there was nothing left to hold back. Suho closed his eyes, feeling the world finally click into place.
It was a slow kiss. A necessary one.
A kiss that felt like home.
And outside, without either of them really noticing, the first snow started falling.
Their mouths moved together for the first time, perfectly in sync. They stayed like that for long moments, lost in it.
Suho’s heart felt so full he was briefly afraid it might burst.
Eventually, he pulled back just enough to leave one last soft kiss on Sieun’s lips.
Sieun’s face was flushed, alive in a way Suho had never seen before—and he thought it was the most beautiful thing in the world.
He smiled, then leaned forward again, resting his forehead against Sieun’s.
Suho closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
“Sieun-ah,” he whispered against his lips.
“Mmh?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Suho-ya.”