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As the street lights brighten, the snow starts to fall once again. Ryu Minseok walks slowly from the small shop, two plastic bags full in his hands. The sound of cars vanishes the closer he gets to his home, and he quickens his pace as the wind becomes stronger, and his cheeks turn red from the cold. His phone vibrates inside the left pocket of his puffer jacket, but he can already see the main gate of his house, so he decides to ignore it and get inside quickly. Minseok types the code slowly, his fingers pressing the numbers awkwardly due to the thick gloves he is wearing. The moment the door opens, he rushes inside, walks the short path covered in snow and types once again the code of the main door.
The house is warm inside, and the light hums above him as he drops the bags on the floor. Minseok takes off his shoes and changes his socks for a pair of fluffy, white ones. He puts the jacket away in a wardrobe near the entrance, and the gloves inside one of the pockets. The dark scarf, which was covering his neck from the cold, now suffocates him. He folds it and sets it in a box with other scarves. Minseok closes the wardrobe’s door and takes the plastic bag, quickly padding towards the kitchen to put away the food and drinks he has bought.
He checks his phone to find two unread chats. He ignores one and one anchored at the top of his contact list.
🐻: Very sleepy today…
🐻: Can’t keep my eyes open ㅜㅜ
Minseok laughs softly, opening the selfie sent just after the messages. One Lee Minhyeong greets him with round and rosy cheeks on full display and a playful pout on his lips. He saves the picture and moves it to a hidden folder, with the other dozen selfies he has of his showy boyfriend.
🐻: Miss you so much
🐻: I’m off!!
🐻: Be there in no time
The last two messages, the ones that Minseok had received while walking back, are a bunch of emojis. Kiss faces, hearts of all colours and types, flowers, a joystick, a dog, and a house. He types an answer, but ends up deleting his messages twice. Minseok is not good at texting, even if the person on the other end is Minhyeong. He feels slightly awkward sometimes, unsure of how to properly express his emotions through writing. That’s why he usually just doesn’t answer, or replies with a thumbs up.
With all the groceries tidied up, he walks to the living room. The light is already on, the temperature perfect. When he found the house, the garden was the first thing that attracted him, even if the house was a bit old. It meant that it had to be upgraded, especially regarding the home automation system, and so, the reform to accommodate the house to their own liking took almost ten months. Still, he wouldn’t change it for the world.
Minseok sits on his side of the sofa, close to a picture window that allows him to see the snow gathering in his private garden. He scrolls through his socials, too late for him to engage in anything else, and too early to start cooking or setting the table for dinner.
When he is home, time becomes absurd. Sometimes, when he is alone, he looks around himself —to the pictures, the decorations, the furniture— and feels his body buzzing. A kind of energy that pulses within him and makes him want to jump on the sofa, on the bed, from chair to chair. It’s similar to the rush he feels when winning a final, except that instead of rushing to Minhyeong’s arms, he wants to jump around their house.
Their home.
He is trying not to jump on the sofa when the door opens, and the sound of Minhyeong’s loud voice happily announces, “I’m home!”
Minseok, contrary to what people might think, doesn’t run to him. Not for something as mundane as this. He sighs, locks his phone, throws it across the sofa, and walks to the entrance. He leans against the wall as he watches Minhyeong, who takes off his jacket first and then opens his arms for the mandatory hug. Minseok accepts it, of course, but only after unzipping the uniform jacket and passing his arms under it and around Minhyeong’s ever-growing chest. He rests his head against Minhyeong’s heart and closes his eyes just as he feels his arms around his shoulders, letting the strong, beating organ move his head.
“You tired too?” Minhyeong soothes him, moving his hands up and down Minseok’s back, his voice low.
He hums and allows Minhyeong to swing their bodies to the rhythm of whatever song he is thinking about.
“I went to buy some things,” he simply informs. “Cook tonight.”
“Sure,” Minhyeong agrees easily. Minseok can picture the gentle smile. “Can I change first, though?”
Minseok thinks about it for a few seconds. He is comfortable now, embraced by the fragrance of his boyfriend, his arms, his warmth. Reluctantly, he sighs and accepts, letting go just enough to turn around, still in Minhyeong’s loving embrace.
“Let’s go,” he orders, but makes a point of keeping Minhyeong’s hands trapped, intertwined with his and resting on his stomach. “I have to change as well.”
Minhyeong laughs behind him as he struggles to take off his shoes with Minseok in front of him and his hands inoperative. Once he manages, Minseok starts to walk down the hallway towards the master room.
It was Minseok who found the house, but Minhyeong was the one to suggest the design and distribution. They live downstairs, where the main bedroom with an in-suite bathroom, the kitchen, and the living room are. There are two spare rooms, in which they store clothes or gifts that are too personal to show around. When people visit —the few that know where they live, the few times they decide to invite someone—, they move upstairs. There, there are two rooms with two whole set-ups, one big room with a projector for movie night, and a small and simple open-kitchen near another living room. It’s quite simple, really, but for the moment, it’s all they need.
“Minseokie,” whines Minhyeong, two steps away from their bedroom. “I can barely walk like this!”
“Shh, we've already arrived.”
The light automatically turns on as they enter their perfectly decorated bedroom. Too large, probably, since it’s almost as big as the living room upstairs. By the door, on the left, there’s a four-door wardrobe, and in front of it, two small chairs. The king-size bed —that Minseok didn’t want to buy, but Minhyeong insisted on— is perfectly framed by two nightstands on the left wall, with the large windows at the end of the room to view their private garden covered by the snow. And on the right wall, a small door to the in-suite bathroom.
Minseok walks to the bed and lets himself fall on the mattress, only to be stopped by Minhyeong’s arms around his middle. He puts all his weight into trying, once again, to fall on the bed. But the result doesn’t change.
“I've just arrived home, and you're already taking me to bed?” Minhyeong teases him, his voice going high-pitched at the end, pretending to be scandalised. “I must inform you that I am a respectable man, Mr. Ryu.”
Minseok does not have time to react as Minhyeong lets go of him for a few seconds, successfully making him gasp and fall face-first on the bed. Then, Minhyeong grabs his legs and pushes him towards the centre.
“Hey!” He tries to sound annoyed, but he keeps laughing as more and more of his body reaches the middle of the bed.
He allows Minhyeong to control his body, lying limp with his legs bent and lying awkwardly to one side. When he is satisfied, Minhyeong kneels on top of the bed and slowly crawls to his side. Then he turns Minseok around, rolling him until his back is on the mattress, and spreads his arms wide. And just like that, the self-proclaimed modest man drops on top of him, completely covering Minseok with his body.
Minhyeong makes a home for himself on Minseok’s neck, his nose rubbing against Minseok’s jawline. Minseok breathes lightly, closes his eyes and tries to get comfortable.
“My legs,” he protests, to which Minhyeong raises his body with one arm and nudges Minseok’s legs with the other. “Thank you.”
“You are,” Minhyeong presses his lips softly against his left cheek, “very welcome.” And goes back to hide on the curve of Minseok’s neck.
As the lights from the ceiling get brighter, the darker it gets outside, Minseok falls deeper into a state of semi-consciousness. Minhyeong’s body keeps him warm; the tiredness he has been feeling for a few days now is finally able to leave his body through the touch of Minhyeong’s lips on his jaw and neck.
He yawns, and Minhyeong chuckles.
“OK, time to wake up, baby.” A kiss on his cheek. “I can start making dinner, if you want.” Minhyeong moves and leaves a kiss on his eyebrow. “And then, we can sleep properly.” A kiss on the bridge of his nose. “You can take advantage of me tomorrow,” he suggests with a laugh.
Minseok opens his eyes.
“I would never,” he mocks Minhyeong’s outraged tone from before. “I am a gentleman, Mr. Lee.”
A kiss on his lips.
The snow has stopped falling by the time they go to bed. Minhyeong watches the world outside from the safety of his own home as he waits for Minseok to come back from the bathroom. The garden lights, scattered around the perimeter of their backyard, are mostly covered by the snow. They will have to shovel the snow in the morning and clean the solar panels, maybe even call for maintenance if the snow keeps falling through the night.
Also, clean the kitchen.
They don’t spend too much time at home, even less now that their schedules are not aligned. It’s usually the cleaning service that comes once a week that keeps the house spotless and fresh. The small task of taking care of their home, while annoying and tiring, also makes him feel both useful and at ease. The feeling of family rituals, of routine and domesticity, seeps through his bones the more they spend together in this house.
Once the door of the bathroom closes, Minhyeong turns around and smiles at his boyfriend. He opens the bed as Minseok finishes setting an alarm, and takes off his pyjama when the other turns off the ceiling lights, so only the table lamps illuminate the room. Minseok yawns, folding his pyjama bottoms and taking off his underwear, and Minhyeong looks at him already lying on the bed. The curve of his belly, his strong thighs, his chest —he turns on his side, watching Minseok’s movements as he, finally, gets inside the bed and they move closer.
It’s embarrassing, but the mattress, although relatively new, is slightly sunken in the centre because they keep shifting to the centre and falling asleep holding each other. Minhyeong had jokingly said that that was the weight of their love, to which Minseok had frowned and told him to stop wasting their money. In the end, none of them had stopped rolling to the middle or even tried to sleep on just one side of the large bed.
“Sheets are cold,” Minseok complains as he turns off the lights, and the dark welcomes them.
“Come closer then.” Minhyeong doesn’t wait for him to move, resting his hand on Minseok’s waist and pulling him closer. Minseok passes one leg over his hip and, with one hand, holds onto his right shoulder. He covers them with the duvet, making sure no air can enter inside and that not an inch of Minseok’s naked skin is left to the cold.
Naked under the covers, Minhyeong closes his eyes and breathes deeply. The smell of Minseok’s shampoo fills his nose, and his mind flies back to a few years ago. When they bought the house and started to fill it with their belongings, with the furniture they had chosen, with the pictures they had of them all around the world.
Five years of friendship and something more. Something more and love. Love and nothing else. Nothing else beyond respect and communication. And back to love. A long journey of getting to the same stage, at the same time, and letting the other know. Sometimes rushed, sometimes so slowed they thought they could never make it.
Yet, here they are.
Minhyeong holds him closer, his nose pressed against Minseok’s hair, and thinks that tomorrow will be another day of being together. And the day after. And the day after. And from here, until the end of the world.
“You are so sappy,” Minseok whispers. He passes one finger softly against the skin around Minhyeong’s eyes. He isn’t crying; his eyes are just slightly moistened. Not only that, but he is coming down with a cold, the second in a bit over a month, and having Minseok near makes him feel a bit clingy.
“Ah, Minseokie,” he whines. “I just love you so much…”
The man on his arms squirms out, and Minhyeong lets him go. Minseok presses one hand against his chest, and he retreats willingly, his back to the mattress. He feels Minseok moving, and then, one arm trying to wiggle in between his neck and the pillow. Minhyeong lifts his neck slightly, and then Minseok pulls him closer, holding him against his chest.
It’s not Minhyeong’s fault, though. It’s not his fault that he loves Minseok so much that sometimes it hurts. And who would have thought, right? Who would have thought that he could find someone so handsome, so intelligent, so attentive, so perfect in a way that Minseok can only be. Who would have thought that he could find the love of his life sitting right next to him, day after day?
“Me too,” Minseok confesses.
It’s hard for him to openly say ‘I love you’. Minhyeong is used to it. It’s something in Minseok that, even now, still manages to make him feel awkward with the word love said out loud. But Minhyeong is aware of it, of course. It shows in the way Minseok kisses his hands when they ached, or massages his wrist. It’s clear in the times Minseok walks down the shop just to buy something Minhyeong likes, even if he doesn’t ask for it, even if he doesn’t need it. Minseok’s love is just as strong and as heavy as his, but it shows in other ways.
He shuffles and gets even closer. Now that they are home alone, Minhyeong needs him more than ever. Wants to press him closer until Minseok slips inside his heart, to that special place Minhyeong already has for him deep within. He wants to carry Minseok around, make a necklace out of him and wear it proudly everywhere he goes.
“Let’s just stay here and do nothing tomorrow,” he pleads. A hand touches his hair, another caresses his back.
“Hmm, but that’s dangerous. We could end up eating pizza and playing in the snow.”
“Oh, such a terrible, terrible idea.” Minhyeong kisses his chest. “Better not, then. What do you have in mind, my beloved?”
Minseok chuckles the same way he does when Minhyeong opens his arsenal of corny pet names.
“We could shovel the snow and do Pilates,” he suggests, and Minhyeong groans.
“I hate you now,” he decides. “You are a tease!” He is. Minseok’s idea of doing Pilates together always ends up with them doing explicit activities in weird positions that have Minhyeong aching in muscles he didn’t know he had.
“See, this is why you can’t trust anyone, tsk. You were singing my praises two days ago, and now you hate me?” Minseok pinches his cheek, the one not pressed against his chest. “Here I am, helping you keep your diet and your fitness program.”
Minhyeong grumbles, “Not true, you’re being mean to me.” He bites the skin under him, making Minseok shriek.
“Ah, I didn’t sign up for this,” Minseok mocks him.
“You did, you absolutely did.” Minhyeong changes their positions once again; this time, they lie side by side, with his head resting on Minseok’s right shoulder. “You signed for a BBB.”
“A BBB?” Minhyeong can see Minseok’s frown, even in the dark.
“Yep, a BBB. A Big Broad Boyfriend.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then Minseok slaps him.
“Marry me, so I can divorce you.”
Minhyeong laughs, and the sleep suddenly leaves his body. He moves, successfully straddling Minseok. He hears him huff, but doesn’t try to escape or complain.
“You can’t divorce me, sweetheart.” Minhyeong blindly finds one of Minseok’s hands.
“I have money.”
He raises one finger.
“I am handsome.”
Another finger.
“I can cook.”
The third finger.
“I read your mind in-game”
The fourth finger.
“And-”
Minhyeong takes the whole hand and guides it towards his face, kissing each finger until he reaches the little one.
“-I have skilful fingers.”
Minseok kisses him before he can keep teasing. His mouth opens to the touch, his finger travelling down to his face, caressing it as the kiss deepens. He doesn’t let all his weight to fall on Minseok under him, supporting part of it with his arm resting next to Minseok’s head.
Once Minseok is satisfied, he sighs, pulling him for another hug, this time more tender.
“I do love you, you know,” he whispers into his ear. “Even if you were an ugly, unemployed, clumsy man. I would still love you.”
Minhyeong laughs, finally lying on the bed. Back to them being in the centre, on their sides, holding each other.
“I love you too.”
He closes his eyes peacefully and falls asleep with Minseok’s warmth surrounding him.