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Sanghyeok has a dilemma.
Granted, it’s not a serious one. The takeout he’d had with the rest of the team earlier hadn’t been satisfactory today. Their manager offered to order him a new meal, but there isn’t enough time until the match starts. It’s not that important, and it’s not like he’s starving, but he likes to be in optimal condition before a game, and slightly hungry does not fit into Sanghyeok’s definition of tiptop shape.
Thus, the dilemma.
Of the vending machine variety, as he stands in front of the glass panel with a thoughtful frown, studying the rows of snacks for something he thinks might be suitable. He can’t eat anything too heavy either. There’s a protein bar on the second row he thinks might work, but he’s not really fond of how it tastes.
Still, it might be enough…
He’s disrupted from his deep muse by the sound of footsteps slowing to a halt next to him. Sanghyeok glances sideways idly, and is pleasantly surprised to find Jihoon standing beside him.
“Oh, hello,” he greets. “Have you just finished your game?”
“Just now,” Jihoon says, smiling. “Let’s go, Team Baron?”
“Let’s go,” Sanghyeok agrees cheerfully.
He turns back to the vending machine, thinking that’s probably all Jihoon wanted to say, and presses the button for the protein bar. He watches as it drops into the collection point. This is when he realizes Jihoon is still hovering by him. Confused, he glances up again, and sees Jihoon staring back at him intently with his lips pressed together in contemplation.
“Oh, sorry,” he says, moving out of the way. “Did you want to use the machine?”
“What?” Jihoon says, a little distracted. “Oh, uh, no. So um, hyung, are you busy on Saturdays?”
Sanghyeok thinks it over briefly, and then frowns as he runs through his usual schedule on a Saturday. Matches, reviews, probably other team obligations afterward…
“I think so,” he says slowly. “Why?”
“Nothing,” Jihoon says very quickly. “I was just asking.”
Sanghyeok nods, accepting the answer, though the underlying sensation of confusion lingers. Jihoon has a reputation for being a menace to his hyungs, but he’s always extremely nice to Sanghyeok. It’s strange, though. Recently, Jihoon has been a little more nervous around him than Sanghyeok is used to, though he has no idea why.
This is a weird question for him to ask without any reason, though. But Sanghyeok doesn’t press. Surely if it were important, Jihoon would just say so.
They stand there for another moment, looking at one another. Jihoon shifts his weight, glances at him once more, and then exhales quietly through his nose. The tips of his ears are burning pink. Strange. Sanghyeok doesn’t think it’s particularly warm in the building, either. Maybe Jihoon naturally has good blood circulation.
“Well,” he says with another awkward, stiff smile that’s quite unlike the bright grin Sanghyeok is used to. “I’ll see you later, hyung. Good luck with your game.”
“Yes, thank you,” Sanghyeok says, glancing at him one more time before he returns his attention to the protein bar. The rest of the team will be looking for him now that GENG’s game has ended. “Get home safely.”
Jihoon waves as he retreats, and Sanghyeok watches him go out of the corner of his eye. He’s not quite sure why, but the interaction nags at him a little. But only a little. He’s more interested in the upcoming game – and in the protein bar in his hands.
Sanghyeok unwraps it, and takes a delicate bite. Ugh. Disgusting as expected, but it’ll have to do.
Sanghyeok is late, as expected.
Not disastrously late yet, but late enough that Wangho has already sent several messages, the last one just a sticker of someone facepalming in exasperation. Sanghyeok shrugs his jacket on hurriedly and slips his shoes on, almost sprinting out the door. He checks the time again as he moves swiftly towards the elevator.
The elevator dings as he approaches, and the doors slide open. Sanghyeok is distracted with his phone, and nearly walks straight into someone who’s just stepping out. He looks up just in time to stop himself from colliding face-first into Jihoon’s shoulder.
“Oh–”
“Um–”
They shuffle instinctively in the same direction to let the other pass, then step the other way at the same time again, laughing as they almost collide. Jihoon reaches out automatically, his hand warm where it lands on Sanghyeok’s shoulder to steady him before either of them can lose their balance entirely.
“Sorry,” Sanghyeok says, still chuckling.
“No, don’t worry,” Jihoon says immediately. “I didn’t, uh, see you either.”
The elevator doors begin to close, so Sanghyeok steps inside halfway to keep the button pressed so that they stay open. He hesitates, half-turned towards the elevator, half toward Jihoon. It feels rude to just leave without saying anything.
“What brings you up here?” Sanghyeok asks, smiling lightly. “Looking for Minseok and Dorannie?”
Jihoon shakes his head. “Uh, no, actually.” He smiles, a little sheepish. “I was looking for you.”
“For me?” Sanghyeok echoes, panicked. Oh, no, he has absolutely no time to waste, and Wangho is probably already losing patience… He glances back at the elevator as the doors try to close again, and presses the button once more. “I’m so sorry. I was just about to – Wangho is waiting for me downstairs. We were going to go grab something to eat.”
“Oh.”
The way Jihoon’s expression falters is subtle, and Sanghyeok might have missed it if he weren’t looking directly at him. But for some reason, the slight pout to his lips just makes it all the harder for him to leave. Wangho is going to give him endless grief for this already, but…
“Was there something you needed?” Sanghyeok asks.
“No, not really,” Jihoon says quickly. He takes a deep breath. “I just wanted to ask you about this restaurant I wanted to try…”
“Oh,” Sanghyeok says, relieved that it’s nothing serious. He’d have felt terrible if Jihoon wanted something important and he’d just rushed off without listening properly. But if it’s something as menial as restaurant recommendations, surely Jihoon can reach out to him some other time. “I think you’re going to have to ask me later,” he says apologetically. “I’m running a little late.”
Jihoon nods. His gaze drops briefly to the floor, lashes shadowing his eyes. He looks tired. Practice must have run extra long for them today. He feels a small, unexpected warmth at the thought that Jihoon came all the way up here just to ask him something when he looks this exhausted.
It might have been quicker and easier to just send him a message. But Sanghyeok is still oddly glad Jihoon came looking for him. He’s not entirely sure why.
“That’s okay,” Jihoon says, offering a small smile. “Have fun with Wangho hyung. I think I’ll pop in and say hello if the others are around.”
“See you,” Sanghyeok says hurriedly as the doors begin to close. Jihoon looks back at him one more time before they slide shut, and Sanghyeok catches a glimpse of his face. His eyes are shining with a strange emotion.
By the time Sanghyeok reaches the ground floor, Wangho is exactly where he expected him to be, leaning near the entrance with his phone in hand. He looks up as Sanghyeok jogs out toward him, rolling his eyes and shifting his expression into familiar, long-suffering amusement.
“You’re late,” Wangho announces, smirking.
“Sorry,” Sanghyeok replies automatically, slightly out of breath. “I was already running behind, and then Jihoon wanted to ask me something suddenly…”
“Oh? Jihoonie?” Wangho’s eyebrows raise, interest sparking. “Really, now? What did he say?”
“Nothing important,” Sanghyeok says, pushing the door open as they step outside into the cold evening air. “Something about restaurant recommendations, I think. Shall we go? I’m starving.”
As he walks through the door briskly, he wonders only vaguely if he’s imagining the look of sheer amusement on Wangho’s face at the response he’d given.
The world always looks a little different in February. Sanghyeok notices it the moment he steps into the convenience store. The shelves near the front counters are crowded with gift boxes and nearly stacked chocolates arranged in red and gold packaging. Valentine’s Day, he figures. He hadn’t realized it was this close.
Sanghyeok ends up in front of the discounted chocolate display with mild curiosity, wondering if there were any brands he liked.
“Hyung?”
He turns, surprised.
Jihoon stands a few steps away, holding a basket loosely in one hand. Without really meaning to, Sanghyeok finds himself taking inventory, and decides that the overall effect of Jeong Jihoon standing in the middle of a nondescript grocery aisle with a basket in his hands is quite pleasant. His hair is longer than it had been at the start of the season, but still much shorter than Sanghyeeok is used to seeing on him. It exposes more of his face, the sharp lines of his cheekbones, the clean angle of his jaw. It suits him. Jihoon has always been handsome, objectively speaking, but the shorter cut makes it more obvious somehow.
He looks good.
“Jihoon,” Sanghyeok says, happy without really knowing why, smiling before he realizes it. “I didn’t expect to see you here looking so domestic.”
“Don’t look so closely at my basket then,” Jihoon says, lifting it slightly with a wry grin. “It’s all energy drinks and snacks. What are you here for?”
“Snacks. Same reason as you,” Sanghyeok says, glancing up sideways as Jihoon falls into step beside him in front of the chocolate display. He picks one up to turn it over in his hands. “I don’t think they really make this in Dubai. Or maybe they do. Nobody wants ‘du-bai’ things locally these days.”
Sanghyeok thinks that was terrible, even for his standards, but Jihoon laughs anyway. Sincerely and genuinely, like he really did find that joke funny. He feels a small, familiar satisfaction at that. Jihoon always laughs at his jokes, as bad as they are.
“So is that why you’re here?” Jihoon asks. “‘Du-bai’ something for Valentine’s Day?”
Sanghyeok chuckles at that. “Good one,” he commends, pleased. “And no, not really. I’ve never been particularly invested in commercial holidays.” He sets the chocolate back on the shelf. “We have a match the next day, too, so I’ll probably just stay home and rest.”
A strange thought occurs to him, one that leaves him feeling vaguely displeased.
“Why?” he asks, glancing at Jihoon. “Do you have plans? I didn’t think you were the type.”
“Not usually, no,” Jihoon says grimly. “I didn’t think I was the type to care about things like that either. Until, well…”
His voice trails off. When Sanghyeok looks at him, Jihoon is already looking back, eyes steady and strangely intent like he’s waiting for something. Sanghyeok understands at once. Whatever Jihoon isn’t saying is no doubt something he wants to keep private. If Jihoon doesn’t want to elaborate, he won’t ask.
But the idea that Jihoon might have plans with someone on Valentine’s Day makes him unhappy, somehow. He chides himself for thinking like that. Jihoon’s life doesn’t, and shouldn’t, revolve around just his pro career. Sanghyeok wanting him to be more conscientious about prioritizing practice over personal things is selfish, and a little condescending besides. Jihoon works hard enough as it is already.
He knows that, but the feeling lingers stubbornly regardless. He exhales quietly, unable to shake it off, no matter how much he reasons with himself.
“I’ll see you around, then,” he says in a clipped voice, sounding more displeased than he intends.
Jihoon looks up, surprised by the sudden departure and the change in his tone. For a moment, he almost looks like he wants to say something else. His mouth opens slightly, and hesitation flickers in his eyes. But then he sighs, and just nods.
“Yeah, okay,” he says dejectedly. “See you.”
Sanghyeok finds himself walking straight outside the store without even buying anything, heart still thundering in displeasure. Just before he walks off down the street, he glances back through the store window. Jihoon is still standing in the chocolate aisle, frowning at the shelves thoughtfully.
Sanghyeok looks away, biting his cheek.
In an objective sense, it’s easy to see what’s so admirable about Jihoon. His height, his looks, the way he carries himself with such confidence. His determination, his work ethic. And the kindness too, that Sanghyeok has grown so familiar with over the many years he has known him now.
He sighs as he begins to walk. Jihoon really would make a wonderful boyfriend, now that he’s thinking about it. Sanghyeok can only hope that whoever is lucky enough to go on that Valentine’s Day date with him will treat him with the affection a guy as great as him deserves.
Eventually, Jihoon does end up texting him about that restaurant he wanted to try out. It turns out that it’s a place that Sanghyeok has also been meaning to try. So he decides, why not make an occasion out of it? He invites the rest of his team, and coordinates with Jaehyuk so that the GENG team can also come, thinking it might be fun for the ten of them to go out and have a meal together.
Jihoon is a little surprised that he put in so much effort for something that was just an offhanded question. You didn’t have to do all that, he texts, with a wide-eyed sticker to appropriately portray his shock. But – well. Jihoon is always so nice to him. Sanghyeok only wants to return the favor, and make sure he has a good time.
The rest of his team is unusually boisterous when they arrive at the restaurant. The GENG team also seems to be in a good mood, cackling and hooting about something Sanghyeok can’t immediately discern. Or, Jaehyuk and Minggyu are, anyway. Giin and Geonbu look mostly amused.
Jihoon’s ears are red again, Sanghyeok notices immediately. But when their eyes meet across the room, Jihoon’s entire expression brightens. Sanghyeok can’t help but return the smile.
Somehow – and he isn’t quite sure how it happens – they end up seated together at the edge of the long table Sanghyeok had reserved, and Minseok quite pointedly leaves a seat empty beside them when he sits down. This is a little strange, but Sanghyeok doesn’t mind.
Actually, it’s really nice. Conversations at large group dinners tend to fragment anyway, and it’s surprisingly nice to be able to pay total attention to Jihoon, who always runs on the same wavelength as him with no effort. It’s nicer still to see that Jihoon is similarly delighted and smiles endlessly throughout the night. Sanghyeok is glad to see it. He’s happy his plans worked out.
The food turns out to be great, too, and he has a good time just talking with Jihoon about this show he’d watched recently about chess. As the night winds down and they all head out to return to the dorms, Jihoon slows down a little to separate from the rest of the group. Sanghyeok instinctively matches his pace, falling into step.
Jihoon looks as lovely as he always does, with the night lights of the city reflecting off his skin and his smile. His cheeks are flushed from the last round of soju Jaehyuk had insisted they all have before they left.
Sanghyeok’s heart gives a little unexplainable thump. In the end, he’s really happy about how the night turned out.
“Hyung,” Jihoon starts softly after a while. His eyes are trained distantly on the larger group walking ahead of them. “If someone asked you out, what would you say?”
Sanghyeok’s good mood immediately plummets. He’s grateful, he supposes, that Jihoon respects him enough and feels them to be close enough to be able to come to him for advice on even private matters like this. But seriously, the idea of Jihoon going out with someone else is so strangely repellent in his head that he doesn’t even want to think about it.
“I would probably say no,” Sanghyeok says quietly. “I mean, it’s already busy enough for me during the season. Dating would just feel like additional pressure, right? I hear timing is important when it comes to things like that.”
Jihoon gives him a strange half-smile. “You hear?”
“I’m not really…” Sanghyeok looks away uncomfortably. “I mean, I don’t really date. No time for that, you see.”
Jihoon nods at that slowly. The ensuing silence stretches long enough that Sanghyeok glances sideways at him. His expression is unreadable, and his eyes are lowered.
“You’re probably right,” he agrees. There’s a disappointment in his voice that’s so genuine that Sanghyeok immediately feels a pang of guilt for advising him so negatively. “It’s just a silly idea, anyway.”
“No, that’s just how I feel about it,” Sanghyeok says quickly, suddenly anxious to set the record straight. “If you really want to make things work with this person, then that’s different. You certainly have the determination to make something impossible work. Anyway, there’s something special about hard-fought victories, right?”
Jihoon looks at him then. There’s an intensity in his eyes that makes the back of Sanghyeok’s neck flash with heat.
“Right,” Jihoon says.
The rest of the walk home is much quieter than before. Sanghyeok ends up doing most of the talking, filling the sudden silence with whatever comes to mind. By the time they reach the dorms, Sanghyeok can’t shake the feeling that he’s done something wrong.
He’s not sure what it is.
Sanghyeok comes home late after practice on Valentine’s Day. His eyes are sore from staring at the screen for too long, and he’s absolutely exhausted. The one thought that persists in his head is of his bed, and all he wants to do is to collapse onto it as soon as possible.
The rest of his teammates seem to be thinking the same, because they retire quickly and promptly upon their return to the dorms. Sanghyeok is just about to disappear into his own room to follow, when suddenly the doorbell rings.
He wonders who it might be at such a late hour, but doesn’t bother to check the ring camera before he swings the door open. What he sees at his doorstep makes his exhausted brain screech to a shuddering halt in his head.
Jihoon. He’s dressed differently than his usual loungewear getup. Not flashy exactly, but it looks like someone forced him into a nice outfit. A dark coat fitted cleanly over a soft sweater, hair styled instead of ruffled like usual. His cheeks are flushed.
He looks –
Well.
He looks great.
Sanghyeok registers that in a detached way, and the immediate sensation he registers is one of happiness. But then he looks at Jihoon properly, notices the bouquet of red roses in one hand, and a strange set of coupons in the other. He’s dressed up and ready… for a date.
A date.
With his mystery person.
Sanghyeok tries not to feel too annoyed, but – he can’t help it. Is Jihoon really so tactless that he thinks it’s appropriate to show up on Sanghyeok’s doorstep the night before a game to seek his approval on his appearance before he heads out to meet someone else?
The backs of his ears grow hot, and an angry buzzing starts up in his chest.
Jihoon takes a deep breath, eyes shining. “Hyung,” he starts.
Sanghyeok cuts him off before he can say anything else, already too irritated to deal with this tonight.
“You look great,” he says quietly.
Jihoon’s eyes widen, but Sanghyeok presses on quickly.
“I mean, there’s nothing you need to worry about or anything,” he says awkwardly. “I don’t know why you thought you needed to come see me for reassurance when you have teammates of your own, but I can also tell you what you need to hear if that’s what you’re here for.”
A flash of panic flies across Jihoon’s expression. “What?” he says, sounding extremely stressed. “No, hyung, it’s–”
“Seriously,” Sanghyeok says, forcing his voice into something level and reasonable, even as that awful buzzing climbs higher in his chest. “You look good. Anyone would think so. There’s no need to check with me.”
Jihoon stares at him like he’s speaking gibberish. Now that Sanghyeok isn’t dazed by his appearance, he can see that the roses in the bouquet are slightly crushed where his fingers press slightly into the stems. The coupons, when he squints at them briefly, actually turn out to be all-you-can-eat vouchers for Haidilao of all places, as an added insult to injury.
His ears burn hotter.
“I don’t know why you’re here,” Sanghyeok continues, because this inexplicable anger makes it so that he can’t stop talking. “If you’re about to head out, then you should go. We still have a game tomorrow, remember?”
Jihoon’s brows pull together. “No, that’s not–”
“And if it’s my advice that you wanted,” Sanghyeok talks over him, voice curt. “You could keep it in mind to approach me earlier, instead of at this late hour.”
The nervous shine in Jihoon’s eyes dims considerably, darkening into something that almost looks like hurt. Sanghyeok feels bad that he’s been so rude tonight when Jihoon has been nothing but sincere, but the guilt is overwhelmed by the sudden and strange tightness in his chest.
Sanghyeok is aware now that his breathing has grown hard. He’s gripping the edge of the door too tightly, and Jihoon seems to notice.
“Okay,” he says in a very small voice. “I’m sorry, hyung. I didn’t mean to bother you.”
Sanghyeok frowns, not really happy with that idea either. But he can’t even explain it to himself properly. He doesn’t want Jihoon to feel like Sanghyeok thinks of him as a bother, but at the same time, he also doesn’t want to be the source of advice for his dating life. Because, well… well… to be honest, he doesn’t understand why he’s so peeved about the prospect at all.
“Good luck tomorrow,” Jihoon adds, voice a little cold now.
“Thanks,” Sanghyeok says, watching as he heads and turns toward the elevators. Sanghyeok closes the door quickly without bothering to watch him go, and stomps deeper into the apartment with a dark frown, in a significantly fouler mood now that Jihoon has actually gone on his stupid date.
(Of course, if Sanghyeok had bothered to check, he would have noticed that the elevator didn’t stop at the ground floor at all, but at the floor of the GENG dorms instead. But he doesn’t, so he’s none the wiser.)
Sanghyeok is tired when he finally gets home the next day. Most of his other teammates are still out, so the apartment is pretty quiet. He slips off his shoes and walks toward his room, already loosening his shoulders in anticipation of finally resting.
He pushes the door open, and stops in his tracks. Because there’s something on his bed. It takes a moment for his weary brain to process.
Red roses.
The same bouquet from last night, slightly wilted now, petals beginning to curl at the edges. The paper wrapping is crinkled where it’s been handled too much. Resting neatly beside it are the Haidilao vouchers, still bound together.
Sanghyeok stares. His first thought is confusion. His second is a slow, creeping unease.
There’s a small card nestled into the top of the beautiful flowers. With shaking hands, Sanghyeok walks over to his bed to pluck it out of the petals, immediately recognizing Jihoon’s handwriting in the text.
Sanghyeok hyung.
Thank you for always taking care of me.
I know you’re busy, so I’ll keep it short.
I don’t know how else to express this to you. I’ve tried just about everything else I can think of, but something always seems to go wrong. So I thought it might be better if I just say it directly this time.
I like spending time with you. I know you’re busy, and I know things are complicated during the season, so I’m sorry if this makes you uncomfortable. You don’t have to say yes. I just can’t keep pretending I don’t feel this way anymore.
But if you’re free, I wanted to ask if you’d have dinner with me tonight.
Happy Valentine’s Day.
– Jihoon.
PS. The coupons are for you. You can feel free to use them alone, but I’ll be more than happy to join you if that’s okay with you.
Sanghyeok reads it once. Then again, and again, and again.
It’s almost like the world is rearranging beneath his feet. The first thing he registers is a dawning horror. Jihoon had been at his doorstep just last night, nervous and fluttering in a way that suddenly makes sense. The panic in his eyes when Sanghyeok cut him off. The way his voice had gone small at the end.
Everything makes a horrible, horrible sense.
Sanghyeok sits down heavily on the edge of the bed, the roses nestled in his arms on his lap. They smell faintly sweet, even having lost their freshness. He stares at the card in his hands, replaying every word he’d said the night before and wanting to bury himself in a hole so that he can be free from the terrible guilt and embarrassment he feels now.
How many times must Jihoon have tried to ask him out? He must have gotten really desperate to resort to something as outlandish as this. He looks down at the roses in his lap, and can’t help but smile. What a mess he’s made.
Well, the least he can do now is to rectify his mistakes as soon as he can.
Sanghyeok is so frazzled that he accidentally takes the bouquet with him as he sprints out into the hallway to head downstairs. His pulse is hammering by the time he reaches the floor below. With nervousness? Anticipation? He’s still not entirely sure.
He rings the doorbell several times, and the person who comes out to open it turns out to be Jaehyuk, who raises his eyebrows so quickly that it might have disappeared behind his hairline if it hadn’t been so high.
Sanghyeok realizes distantly how weird this must look, him standing there in front of the GENG dorms at this hour, still in his team jacket, holding a bouquet of red roses with an expression that probably looks manic.
“Good evening, Jaehyuk. Sorry, is Jihoon here?” he asks immediately and anxiously.
Jaehyuk looks at him, and then an amused smile spreads across his face.
“You finally came around, huh?” he teases. “Good thing, too. Jihoonie has been just about losing it over the past few weeks trying to get your attention. We were almost on the cusp of intervening ourselves.”
“Sorry about that,” Sanghyeok says, flushing faintly. “It seems I am, uh, unusually unobservant when it comes to things like this.”
“He’s here, by the way. Come on in, I’ll show you to his room.”
Sanghyeok takes a deep breath as he follows Jaehyuk deeper into the room, only distantly aware of his surroundings. The only thing that seems to matter in this instant is the fact that Jihoon is waiting for him now, right beyond that door just ahead.
He supposes Jaehyuk must have said something in parting, but he doesn’t even notice it. Sanghyeok takes another deep breath the instant he’s alone in the hallway, and raises his free hand to knock on the door once.
It takes a few moments for Jihoon to come to the door and swing it open.
When he sees Sanghyeok standing there, a flicker of panic passes across his eyes before he immediately schools it behind the practiced poker face Sanghyeok has grown so familiar with. His eyes drop to the bouquet in his hands briefly, and his cheeks darken with heat.
“I just–” he stammers, nervous. “I just wanted to explain how I felt, hyung. It’s nothing too serious, in case that’s what you were worried about. If I made you uncomfortable, then I’m really sorry, but–”
“Jihoon,” Sanghyeok interrupts his rambling gently. He gestures inside the room. “Maybe we should talk about this somewhere a little more private?”
Jihoon’s shoulders slump dejectedly, and Sanghyeok wants to kick himself. Seriously, how terrible must have he really been? Even a statement as nonchalant as that sounds like a precursor to rejection in Jihoon’s eyes.
He sits on the edge of Jihoon’s bed quietly as they enter, and Jihoon follows suit beside him. For a moment, Sanghyeok is at a complete loss as to what to say. There seems to be so many things to address that he almost doesn’t know where to start. He picks at the wrapping paper of the bouquet nervously, and takes another deep breath.
“Firstly, I don’t know how to describe how very… flattered… I am, that you’ve told me all of this so honestly,” Sanghyeok starts. “I realize now that you’ve tried to be more subtle with your attempts before, only for them to fall on deaf ears. I want to apologize for that. I really didn’t realize.”
“That’s okay,” Jihoon says at once. “Anyway, I don’t want you to feel pressured about what I said or anything. I know it was sudden, and I know what you said about dating during the season being stressful, but–”
“I might have lied about that,” Sanghyeok says sheepishly. “See, the thing is, I thought you were asking me for advice on dating someone else. At the time, I didn’t fully realize why the idea sat so negatively with me, but I think I understand now.”
It’s amusing to see the way Jihoon’s dismal expression immediately brightens, eyes sparking with a sudden hope like rays of the sun peeking out from behind the clouds on an overcast day. The beginnings of a smile appear on his lips.
“I think,” Sanghyeok continues carefully, choosing each word with deliberation, “that I was upset. I didn’t understand why I was upset, and that made me more irritated than I might have been otherwise.”
He glances at Jihoon briefly, and feels his heart do a little somersault to see the happiness in Jihoon’s eyes. How has he not noticed the extent of this emotion before?
“When you said the other day that you had plans on Valentine’s Day,” he starts again, looking away. “I found myself wondering who it was. And then I told myself it wasn’t my business, and that it was selfish of me to feel unhappy.”
The wrapping paper crinkles in his hands as he adjusts the flowers in his lap properly.
“And yesterday,” he continues, “when you showed up… I thought you were asking me to approve of you before going to meet someone else. I didn’t like that either.”
Jihoon is smiling from ear to ear now. “No?”
“Not one bit,” Sanghyeok mutters. “And… remember when you asked me what I would do if someone asked me out? At the time, I said I wouldn’t agree to it because it would just be added stress.”
Sanghyeok exhales slowly, and raises his eyes bravely to meet Jihoon’s eyes.
“But that’s only because I assumed it wouldn’t be you,” he says softly. “Because you see, Jihoon, if it’s you… then I don’t think it sounds stressful at all.”
Sanghyeok has no idea how he expected Jihoon to react to that statement. When he thinks back on this moment fondly later, he won’t be able to recall his thoughts at all. Because in the instant these words escape his mouth, suddenly Jihoon’s hand clasps onto the side of his face, and Sanghyeok’s face is being turned–
And Jihoon kisses him full on the mouth.
It’s a more fervent kiss than he expects, enticing a muffled sound of surprise from his chest before he melts into the pleasant sensation of Jihoon’s lips pressing against his own. Sanghyeok can taste it now; the desperation Jihoon must have had all this time, for he kisses like someone who has been holding himself back for a very long time, and all the careful restraint has broken away like a dam.
Sanghyeok’s fingers tighten unconsciously around the bouquet, and the paper crinkles loudly between them. The sound seems to startle Jihoon back to himself.
He pulls away abruptly, breathing unevenly. His hand drops from Sanghyeok’s face as if only just realizing what he’s done.
“Sorry,” he says, though he doesn’t sound very apologetic. “You have no idea how much I’ve wanted to do that.”
“As long as you liked it as much as I did,” Sanghyeok manages to say, feeling his ears burn with heat. “I was just a little surprised. You moved faster than I expected.”
Jihoon rubs the back of his neck embarrassedly. “I’ve been trying to do that for weeks.”
Sanghyeok frowns. “Why didn’t you just ask me directly?”
“What!” Jihoon protests, frowning, too. “Hyung, I tried. I asked you out for dinner, and you invited both of our teams. How was I supposed to realize you felt the same way I did when you kept doing things like that?”
“Okay, sorry. You’re right.” Sanghyeok laughs. He sets the bouquet aside, and boldly reaches for Jihoon’s hand. “So, if you don’t mind that I can be a little obtuse about things sometimes… that means your invitation for dinner still stands?”
Jihoon grins widely. “Like, as a date?”
“As a date,” Sanghyeok confirms. “Without eight additional people this time.”
Jihoon laughs, and even seeing him smile sends a small, satisfied warmth through Sanghyeok’s chest.
“Yeah,” Jihoon says. “I think I’d like that.”
“Although,” Sanghyeok glances at the clock mounted on the wall. It’s past midnight. “Perhaps we can do that some other night? It’s gotten pretty late.”
Jihoon pecks him on the cheek, and Sanghyeok feels very warm all over. He wonders if Jihoon will always be this unrestrained with little touches like this. Privately, he hopes he will be. Sanghyeok could really get used to it.
“Anything you want,” he promises. “I’m going to ask for compensation for the delay, though.”
“Oh,” Sanghyeok says, turning his head to ask him, “Like what?”
Except the words never get to escape his mouth, because Jihoon’s lips are pressed against his own once more. Sanghyeok smiles into the kiss, and reciprocates with equal enthusiasm.
Fin