Chapter Text
The bridal suite—or rather, the groom's holding pen—smelled heavily of hairspray, expensive eucalyptus candles, and sheer panic. Jaehyun stood by the open balcony doors, staring at a stack of incredibly crumpled index cards. He had crossed out the word 'forever' three times and replaced it with 'eternity', only to aggressively cross that out too. Writing vows was one thing; drafting a reception speech that wouldn't make him look like a blubbering mess in front of two hundred guests was a completely different nightmare.
"If you wrinkle that suit before the photographer gets here, Sungho-hyung is going to actually end your life," a calm voice pointed out from the doorway.
Jaehyun didn't even look up as Dongmin strolled into the room. Dongmin looked impeccably composed, his black tuxedo perfectly fitted, holding two flutes of champagne. Right behind him, Donghyun peeked in, frowning deeply as he struggled with a pair of silver cufflinks.
"Here, let me," Dongmin murmured, immediately setting the glasses down to swat Donghyun's hands away. He stepped into Donghyun's personal space, expertly securing the cuffs with an easy familiarity that made Jaehyun sigh.
"How are you two so calm?" Jaehyun groaned, tossing the ruined index cards onto a velvet armchair. "I am getting married in exactly one hour. My manliness is practically nonexistent. I cried over a napkin folding arrangement yesterday. A napkin, Dongmin-ah."
"It was a very emotional swan," Donghyun offered sympathetically, adjusting his newly fastened sleeves. "And we are calm because we are not the ones legally binding ourselves to Lee Sanghyeok’s intense obsession with baked goods and alphabetized spice racks."
Jaehyun rubbed his temples. Outside the suite, a loud crash echoed down the hallway, followed immediately by Woonhak yelling a string of panicked apologies about a falling tower of champagne glasses. Seconds later, Sungho’s voice boomed, aggressively demanding someone fetch a broom and a dustpan before he lost his mind.
"I need a moment," Jaehyun muttered, stepping back onto the balcony and letting the cool afternoon air hit his flushed face.
He was thirty-two years old, successfully running a mid-sized architectural firm, and yet, standing here, he felt exactly like the twenty-two-year-old idiot who had accidentally spilled an entire iced Americano over Sanghyeok’s meticulously organized thesis notes. That was how it started. A disaster. A tragicomedy.
Jaehyun remembered the tragedy of that day in the university library. He remembered trying to wipe the coffee off the paper, making it worse, while Sanghyeok just sat there, blinking slowly, processing the total destruction of his hard work. Jaehyun had expected screaming. He had expected a public execution. Instead, Sanghyeok had let out a long, exhausted sigh, wrinkling the bridge of his nose, and said, 'Buy me dinners for a week, and I won't report you for academic sabotage.'
It was supposed to be a simple transaction. Seven dinners to clear a debt. But by the fourth dinner, Jaehyun found himself talking entirely too much, trying desperately to make the composed man across the table laugh. And when Sanghyeok finally did—the neat row of teeth and the crescent eyes that completely transformed his usually stoic face—Jaehyun knew he was in catastrophic trouble.
"You're overthinking again," Donghyun’s voice pulled him back to the present. He stepped onto the balcony, handing Jaehyun one of the champagne flutes. "I can practically hear the gears grinding in your head. Drink this. It helps with the nerves."
Jaehyun took the glass, his fingers tapping anxiously against the crystal stem. "What if I ruin the speech? What if it sounds like a bad stand-up routine? I literally wrote a joke about pollen allergy because I couldn't figure out how to explain why I cry every time I look at him without sounding pathetic."
Donghyun chuckled, leaning against the iron railing. "Sanghyeok-hyung is currently in the other room, threatening to fire the wedding planner because she tried to move the floral arch two inches to the left. He is just as terrified and obsessed with getting this right as you are."
Jaehyun took a sip of the champagne. The bubbles did nothing to settle the cartwheels in his stomach, but the reminder of Sanghyeok having the same mental breakdown as him, grounded him slightly.
He remembered the night he proposed. It wasn't in a fancy restaurant or under a starlit sky. It was in their shared kitchen, at two in the morning, after a massive, ridiculous argument about whose turn it was to take out the recycling. Jaehyun had been so frustrated, so completely overwhelmed by the reality of their domestic life, that he just blurted out, 'I want to argue about the trash with you for the rest of my life. Please, for the most almighty entity out there, please, can you just marry me?'
Sanghyeok had frozen, holding a plastic bottle mid-air, before slowly setting it down on the granite counter. He had looked at Jaehyun with that steady gaze, and simply said, 'Fine. But you are still taking the trash out tonight.'
"It's just a speech," Donghyun reminded him gently, pulling him back from his thoughts. "Just tell him the truth. You don't need a perfectly structured essay. Just tell him why you're standing there."
Jaehyun looked down at his polished leather shoes, letting out a long, shaky exhale. Donghyun was right. He didn't need to overcomplicate it. When it came down to it, stripped of all the anxiety, the fancy suits, and the crashing glass outside, it was devastatingly simple.
He just needed Sanghyeok for eternity.
And maybe for a little more.
-
"If I have to sweep up one more shattered piece of glassware, I am officially resigning from my duties, hijacking the catering van, and driving into the ocean," Sungho announced, throwing the suite doors open so hard they bounced off the wall. His tie was slightly loosened, and he looked like a man who had aged a decade in the span of an hour.
Woonhak poked his head out from behind Sungho’s broad shoulders, offering a very guilty, sheepish grin. "In my defense, the floor was incredibly slippery. And the tower was structurally weird to begin with. You're an architect, hyung, you should have known."
"Do not blame my architectural integrity for your lack of basic motor skills," Jaehyun shot back, trying to rearrange his already neat black hair for a millions time.
Dongmin simply checked his silver wristwatch, completely unbothered by the chaos. "We have fifteen minutes until the string quartet starts playing. Hyung, if you are going to hyperventilate, I highly suggest you do it now so we can fix your complexion before you walk out there."
"I am not going to hyperventilate," Jaehyun lied, his voice cracking slightly on the last syllable.
Donghyun patted his shoulder sympathetically. "Sure you aren't. Let's get you to the altar before you decide to rewrite your vows on a napkin."
The walk from the holding suite to the outdoor garden venue felt like a blur. Jaehyun’s brain was operating on absolute overdrive. As he took his place at the front, flanked by Sungho and Dongmin, he tried to focus on breathing. The garden looked incredible—white floral arrangements, perfectly aligned wooden chairs, and a soft late-afternoon breeze that thankfully wasn't too hot.
Standing there, watching the guests settle into their seats, the reality of the situation finally slammed into him.
Ten years. They had been together for a decade. It was funny how everything just started to make sense. In his twenties, Jaehyun had been a walking disaster—impulsive and constantly terrified he was going to somehow ruin Sanghyeok’s perfectly mapped-out life.
He really was so scared back then. Scared of how fast things were shifting, terrified he would lose his own loud, chaotic identity within Sanghyeok’s calm, structured world. He was terrified of letting Sanghyeok down, of being too much and not enough all at once. He used to worry that his chaotic energy was bad for Sanghyeok, that one day the older man would wake up and realize he was babysitting a giant toddler.
But Sanghyeok never did. For some inexplicable reason, Sanghyeok just believed in him. When Jaehyun almost went bankrupt trying to launch his own firm at twenty-seven, Sanghyeok didn't join his panicking club. He just made Jaehyun sit down, cooked him a healthy meal, and helped him color-code his financial spreadsheets until 4 AM. Sanghyeok just knew they would work. He had a unshakable certainty that Jaehyun desperately needed.
"Stop fidgeting, you are making me dizzy," Sungho muttered from his right, subtly adjusting the back lapel of Jaehyun’s suit. "He is not going to leave you at the altar. I literally saw him yelling at the florist ten minutes ago. He is fully invested."
"I know," Jaehyun whispered back, swallowing hard. "I'm just... what if I mess up the vow?"
"If you mess up the vow, we will just laugh at you," Woonhak offered unhelpfully from the front row, earning a sharp glare from Dongmin. "What? I'm trying to lower his expectations!"
Before Jaehyun could throw a decorative pebble at Woonhak’s head, the string quartet smoothly transitioned into the entrance melody. The low murmur of the guests instantly died down, replaced by the collective rustle of people standing up.
Jaehyun immediately looked down the aisle, and his brain completely stopped functioning.
Sanghyeok stepped into view, and it was entirely unfair. He was wearing a deep navy tailored suit that fit him so perfectly it should have been illegal. His blond hair was styled back, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw and those intense, observant eyes. He looked devastating. He looked like a twisted fantasy, an absolute exercise in vanity that made Jaehyun’s knees feel dangerously weak.
All the carefully constructed index cards, the crossed-out words, the jokes about allergies—they completely evaporated from Jaehyun’s mind.
As Sanghyeok walked down the aisle, his gaze locked entirely on Jaehyun. He was smiling with that soft, private, incredibly fond look that he usually reserved for quiet Sunday mornings in their apartment. It was the look that said, 'You are an idiot, but unfortunately, you are my idiot.'
Jaehyun felt an aggressive burn in the back of his throat. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear the sudden blurriness in his vision.
"Oh god, he is already crying," Woonhak stage-whispered loudly.
"Shut up," Dongmin, Sungho, and Donghyun hissed in unison.
Jaehyun ignored them entirely. He reached up, quickly wiping a stray tear that managed to escape down his cheek. He had told himself he wasn't going to cry before the vows even started, but looking at Sanghyeok, logic completely failed him. He didn't care if he looked like a cry baby to the guests. He would just blame it on the floral arrangements later.
Sanghyeok finally reached the end of the aisle. He stepped up, handing his small boutonniere to a very smug-looking Donghyun before turning to face Jaehyun.
"You’re crying," Sanghyeok whispered, a teasing lilt in his voice as he gently reached out, his thumb brushing away another tear near Jaehyun’s eye.
"I am having a severe allergic reaction to how good you look," Jaehyun shot back, his voice thick with emotion, though a massive grin split across his face.
Sanghyeok let out a melodic laugh, his hands finding Jaehyun’s and gripping them tightly. "You are ridiculous. Get it together. You have vows to declare."
"I forgot all of it," Jaehyun admitted instantly, holding onto Sanghyeok’s hands like a lifeline. And looking into Sanghyeok’s eyes, seeing absolute infinity staring right back at him, Jaehyun realized he truly didn't mind at all.
-
The reception was held under a massive, draped tent illuminated by hundreds of warm fairy lights. The chaotic energy of the afternoon had settled into a comfortable, buzzing warmth, aided significantly by the open bar and the gentle evening breeze.
Jaehyun tapped his silver fork against his crystal champagne flute. The clear, ringing sound immediately quieted the chatter at the surrounding tables. He stood up, wiping his slightly clammy palms on his tailored trousers. He had officially abandoned his crumpled index cards on the sweetheart table, right next to Sanghyeok’s untouched plate of tiramisu.
He looked out at the sea of faces—their families, their friends, Woonhak actively trying to steal a bread roll from Sungho’s plate, and Dongmin resting his chin comfortably on Donghyun’s shoulder at the front table. Then, Jaehyun looked down at Sanghyeok, who was gazing up at him with a mixture of pride and mild apprehension.
"I had a speech," Jaehyun began, his voice echoing smoothly through the microphone. He pointed to the mangled cards on the table. "It was highly structured. I even used bullet points, which Sanghyeok would have appreciated. But standing up here, my mind is completely blank, and my tongue is tied up in absolute agony."
A gentle ripple of laughter went through the crowd. Sanghyeok just smiled, resting his cheek on his palm, watching Jaehyun with total, undivided attention.
"Ten years," Jaehyun continued, his tone shifting into something softer, far more grounded. "Ten years ago, I ruined his thesis notes, and somehow, he decided to keep me around. When we first met, I was terrified. I was so scared just for things to change. I thought I was too loud, too disorganized. I was afraid I was going to lose myself in him, or worse, that I’d let him down by not being serious enough."
Jaehyun paused, taking a steadying breath. He wasn't performing a comedy routine anymore. He was simply stating the absolute truth, laying his heart completely bare under the glow of the fairy lights.
"But you just believed in me," Jaehyun said, turning his body to face Sanghyeok directly. "For some inexplicable reason, you knew that we would work. You took my chaotic energy and gave it a home. You gave me a chance for relive our lives together, seeing our friends grow, building a firm, arguing about the recycling at two in the morning... I see everything from a completely new perspective now."
At the front table, Sungho aggressively dabbed at his eyes with a linen napkin, whispering a harsh "shut up" to Woonhak, who wasn't even talking but was openly sobbing into his own suit sleeve. Dongmin simply reached over, threading his fingers quietly with Donghyun’s under the table, a silent communication passing between them.
"I used to think my masculinity would be in shreds if I cried at my own wedding," Jaehyun chuckled, his voice thick as he wiped a stray tear from his cheek. "I was fully prepared to blame it on some fake allergies. But looking at you right now, I don't care. All I want is your love, Sanghyeok-ah. Your love for this life, and the next if fate kind enough to let we meet again. That’s it. That’s the entire baseline of my existence."
Sanghyeok’s usually composed facade finally fractured. His eyes shone with unshed tears, and he bit his lower lip, trying desperately to maintain his stoic reputation. But the slight tremble in his shoulders gave him away. He reached beside his chair, his fingers finding Jaehyun’s free hand and squeezing with a grounding, undeniable force.
"I just can't wait for our future," Jaehyun concluded, his voice dropping into a tender murmur that the microphone barely caught. "Whatever happens, I just know everything is going to work out. I know because it's you. And I am just so unbelievably happy to be here.. with you."
Jaehyun lowered the microphone. The tent erupted into applause, but it sounded entirely muted to his ears. He didn't do the ending formal toast. Instead, he set the mic down, leaned over and pulled Sanghyeok up gently.
Sanghyeok met him halfway, wrapping his arms securely around Jaehyun’s neck as their lips met. It was an entirely joyful kiss that tasted like expensive champagne and the promise of a thousand ordinary, beautiful tomorrows.
When they finally pulled apart, both of them breathing heavily and smiling like absolute fools, Woonhak’s voice cut straight through the applause. "Finally! Now can we please open the dessert buffet? I've been waiting for that tiramisu for an hour!"
Sanghyeok laughed, a bright, uninhibited sound that made Jaehyun’s chest swell with warmth, as he rested his forehead against Jaehyun’s. "Did you hear that? We have to feed the children before a riot starts."
"Let them wait," Jaehyun murmured, pressing one last, tender kiss to the corner of Sanghyeok’s mouth. "Right now, I am exactly where I need to be."