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A lot of things had changed between this year and the year before.
Chanyeol had helped Sehun with his application for art school in Seoul, behind his parents’ backs. Sehun, unsurprisingly, had gotten in based on his portfolio alone, as well as a scholarship that covered his tuition. He was also working part-time in a café to cover materials and the rent of the shoebox apartment he lived in with Chanyeol.
Chanyeol himself was also doing well in Seoul. He bounced around for a while, taking odd jobs wherever he could, and then he joined a band along with Sehun’s cousin, Junmyeon, as the lead guitarist. He spent his days writing music and performing gigs, but every night ended with him and Sehun falling asleep next to each other on a too-small bed.
This life looked different than the safe one they had back in their hometown, but they were happy.
Which was why, on a random summer day—one year after he promised to help Sehun achieve his dreams—Chanyeol decided to change their lives again by asking Sehun a simple question.
This Saturday morning was special in the sense that their schedules lined up so that they could have theoretically slept in together.
But Sehun, honed by years of waking up before the crack of dawn to help his father on his boat, woke up early anyway. The soft impression of lips on his temple and Sehun’s tired murmur stirred Chanyeol from slumber. Bare feet padded as quietly as they could to the bedroom door. Their destination was the easel next to the kitchen window that Sehun claimed captured the best sunlight in the apartment.
Chanyeol pretended to be asleep, counting the seconds in his head. A smile broke out on his face when he heard Sehun’s frantic steps down the hallway, back to the bedroom.
“Chanyeol,” Sehun said.
Chanyeol hummed, blinking his eyes open.
Sehun stood in the doorway, holding a small object in front of him like it offended him. A silver ring—the one that Chanyeol had hidden on the handle of one of Sehun’s paintbrushes—specifically, the one that he used to put highlights in people’s eyes when he created portraits.
“What the fuck is this?” Sehun asked, holding the ring out almost accusatorily.
Chanyeol sat up, the blanket falling off him, revealing his bare chest. “I feel like it should be self-explanatory.”
Sehun’s cheeks reddened in that way that Chanyeol found so adorable. Sehun scoffed and clutched the ring in his hand. “We’ve only been dating for a year.”
Chanyeol quirked an eyebrow. “We’ve known each other forever.”
Sehun huffed, looking away. “I—I’m still in school. You just started your band. There’s no—” Sehun sighed, covering his face with his hand. “—there’s no time. Or money. Or—”
“—And yet, I’m asking anyway.”
That made Sehun stop. He looked at Chanyeol, eyes wide and wet and vulnerable. And Chanyeol was reminded of a moment similar to this one, over a year ago, of a past feeling so far away that it felt like another life entirely. Of a Sehun that was reminded of possibility and choice that had never been presented to him before.
Chanyeol smiled, reaching a hand out. “Come here, Sehun-ah.”
Sehun did, and Chanyeol coaxed him into sitting in his lap. He touched Sehun. Gently. Reverently. Large calloused hands grazed Sehun’s cheeks and held. Sehun leaned in to the touch.
“What are you scared of, Sehun-ah?” Chanyeol asked, voice gentle.
Sehun’s eyes widened, vulnerable, like he was caught.
But Chanyeol waited.
Sehun looked away, not meeting Chanyeol’s eyes. “This life feels like a dream still,” he admitted.
Chanyeol raised his other hand and put it on Sehun’s chest, right above his heart. Sehun covered Chanyeol’s hand with his own.
“This life isn’t perfect, but it’s still everything I’ve ever wanted,” Sehun continued. “Art. Freedom. You. Isn’t it selfish to want more? Isn’t this more than I deserve?”
Chanyeol’s heart cracked at the admission. “It’s not. I promise it’s not.”
Sehun was silent for a moment, but something in Chanyeol could tell that Sehun wasn’t completely settled.
“Ask me what I want,” Chanyeol said, voice gentle.
Sehun was quiet for another moment before speaking again. “What do you want?”
“I want to marry you. I want to wake up next to you every day like this. I want petty fights and kisses and the way you paint me. I want you by my side. Is that what you want too?”
Sehun leaned in, pressing his forehead against Chanyeol’s. “I want you always,” he admitted.
“You have me always,” Chanyeol said back. “I’m not saying we should get married tomorrow. But I want to, eventually.”
They pulled away. Chanyeol put the ring on Sehun’s finger, fitting perfectly.
Sehun lifted his hand, watching the morning light catch on the silver metal with the focus of someone committing it to memory. (Chanyeol knows that it’ll end up in a sketchbook.)
Chanyeol pulled Sehun into a warm embrace, kissing his cheeks, his forehead, his nose, and finally his lips.
“I love you,” Chanyeol said, watching the way Sehun’s eyes softened.
Sehun lifted a hand and cupped Chanyeol’s face, the cool metal of the ring grounding. “I love you too.”
They got married six months later.
The ceremony itself was a wedding in the barest sense. They had it right at the courthouse, with Junmyeon and Baekhyun as witnesses. Baekhyun wore a burgundy suit and demanded that he give Sehun away in style.
Sehun dressed simply in a black tie, ironed slacks, and a crisp white button-up with charcoal stains on the cuffs, like Sehun couldn’t stop doing art until the last possible moment. Chanyeol wore blue.
They had their reception at a karaoke bar near their place, Chanyeol dedicated a song to Sehun, which made the latter blush.
When Chanyeol woke up the next morning, Sehun was painting at his easel like nothing had changed. The only detail standing out was the ring on his finger and the glow of a lifelong commitment. It made him smile anyway, knowing that this was going to be the rest of his life.
Sehun got invited to submit to the student gallery in his second year of art school. Almost unheard of for someone who didn’t have any previous connections. But it was evident from his style and work that Sehun would be a star in his own right.
He submitted two paintings to the gallery. The first, a cliffside scene inspired by his days of sketching the waves.
The second, more intimate, was two hands reaching towards each other, one of them bandaged from burns. Whenever Sehun looked at it, he remembered the night he ran to Chanyeol and finally told him what he wanted. A lifetime ago, now.
”I want you.”
”You have me.”
His second painting was sold to an older woman, who stared at it until her eyes got misty. She told him his painting made her feel. Made her hope.
Sehun tried to give her the check back when she gave it to him. She stopped him.
“Keep painting,” she told him. “Keep making people feel.”
Sehun used the money to buy Chanyeol a new guitar. He kissed Sehun breathless without even taking it out of the case.
“You’re supposed to kiss me after you open it,” Sehun laughed between kisses.
“Don’t care,” Chanyeol murmured, kissing him again. “I have such a sweet husband.”
Sehun froze, backing his head, but his eyes were still soft and fond. “I don’t think I will ever get tired of hearing that.”
Chanyeol grinned, “I’ll never get tired of saying it.”