Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Being married through an arranged setting wasn't in one of Jisung's bucket lists.

Okay, so firstly, he knew that his parents were well off, he was A Park—one of the most known Family Names in their city, he has two younger siblings, him and the two were only a year a part, his siblings were twins; Sunghoon and Sohyun respectively, identical twins at that.

They were close—tight knit at that, so when they were huddled into a Saturday night dinner with their parents, they didn't expect that their parents would marry Jisung to their business partner—a Jung.

"The Jungs have been our family friend for years and they are looking for a perfect partner for their youngest son, Sungchan." Their Dad said while slicing his medium rare steak. "And your Dad thinks that our Jisung would be the perfect match for hi! Isn't that amazing!" Their Mom seconded letting the mouths of their three children hung open.

"Mom, I'm just 23. I haven't even finished my Master's degree yet." Jisung argued as he sat there, can't even do anything but to look at both of his parents like they grew another pair of heads.

"Oh that can be settled! The Jung's are willing to compromise."

"What do you mean compromise?" Sohyun asked, her thick eyebrows scrunching in a questionnable and highly judgemental way. "What i mean by that—is the Jungs are willing to take Jisung in even if he's still studying, or if he decides to be a house husband."

"Hyung won't be a house husband Mom, we all know that." Sunghoon added, finally slicing his own steak with the exact gracefulness of a swan.

"Regardless of whether Jisung accepts or not, the deal has been done and the wedding preparation has already begun with." Their Dad announced as if he was announcing a new product launch.

And it is a product launch indeed—and Jisung was the main course.

Sungchan and Jisung have met each other lots of times in the span of Jisung's 23 years of living, the first one was for the twins' 7th birthday where Jisung was 6 and Sungchan was 7, and after that they became someone…..familiar.

And when Jisung's parents drag him to banquet's meetings, events and any other programs, Jisung would just navigate to Sungchan automatically. They make light conversations but after that they would just stand there together with comfortable silence.

So Jisung was asking—why did the Jung's choose him?? Why did the Jung's choose their Family even?? And why did his Family choose to have this specific partnership with the Jungs??

But even with the questions surfacing like that, Jisung had already came to a conclusion; he was the readily available person—for somebody, for anybody, even for Sungchan, and most likely for his parents, and also—

"We need to strengthen out linkages, knowing that The Jung's own airlines and we own Hotels, they can promote out hotels in their websites."

That's that, Jisung was a promotional package, and of course, Sungchan was also one; just a much more bigger and well highly preferred PR package that his parents would do so much to achieve.

So when their parents told them to dress up because they have a proper dinner with the Jungs?? Jisung almost choked himself with the necktie Sunghoon fixed on his chest.

The restaurant that the Jungs picked was, unsurprisingly expensive. OF COURSE—It's the JUNGS. If Jisung were a critic, he would already noted how he noted most things these days; the tablecloths were cloud white, the chandelier was huge, the menu had no prices on it, which either meant everything was included or everything was out of range that listing it would be embarrassing for everyone involved.

If Jisung was a romantic guru, he would've noted that this would look better if it was a candle lit dinner.

Jisung was seated beside Sohyun, his Dad was on the other head of the table, and on his left side was Jisung's Mom, and then Sunghoon, Sohyun, and him.

"Wow, this is pristine." Sohyun noted as she took a bite of the stuffed mushrooms their Dad ordered for appetizers. "Sohyun-ah." Jisung noted as Sohyun looked at him, her thick eyebrows raising as she wiped her mouth with a napkin. "I'm just saying."

Sunghoon, who was beside Sohyun, said nothing. He was just munching on his own mushrooms with the quiet precision of what they were taught at an early age.

The Jungs arrived at 7:03. Four people, the Jung Parents, Sungchan, and his older brother, Jaehyun.

Jisung had met Jaehyun before and they indeed have their fine share of talking. He was and his whole family were also present in Jaehyun's wedding three years ago, but that wedding was his own choice—so in retrospect; he got married to his love of his life—good for him.

He was older than Sungchan by a few years, he was poised in the way that came from being groomed for it—Jisung knows that because he had his fine share of taking those classes, and he took his seat across Jisung, leaving him with an empty seat on his left.

And then there was Sungchan who automatically found him in the way he always did at these things automatically, he just sat beside Jisung with the same precision that they had been doing for years on end. Sungchan was taller than the last time they had seen each other, or maybe because it was just how they carried himself now; broader shoulders, his toned body and well, much quieter around the eyes.

They looked at each other once Sungchan sat down, he nodded and Jisung nodded back; that was all, but what Jisung didn't expect was for Sungchan to look down and pull his phone out of his pocket.

'Huh???'

Jisung watched him unlock it, watched him open Instagram he did all of those—below the table cloth of course. But he'd known Jung Sungchan for—what?

More than seventeen years now, in the loose, peripheral way that you know someone you keep on almost-knowing. He knew some version of Sungchan that stood next to him at the edge of private gatherings, and he didn't feel the need to fill the silence. That version would make on dry observation about the catering, the purpose of the gathering and then go quiet again, and somehow, that was enough—it would be enough, that would be comfortable.

This Sungchan however, was scrolling with his thumb. Not reading anything, just pure doom scrolling. Jisung was sure of it—Sungchan was just scrolling.

"—I'm so glad we could finally make this happen!" his Mother was saying, already in full warmth mode, it was the voice she used for people she specifically wanted to charm.

"We've been meaning to do a proper sit-down for so long."

"The feeling is mutual!" Mrs. Jung said with the same twinkling smile his Mom had. And Jisung finally had the chance to look at her, she has the same jaw as Sungchan, and the same way of holding herself.

"We've always considered the Parks, of course. This just makes it official!" She squealed and Jisung reached for his glass of water.

Makes it official they say.

Besides him, Sungchan's thumb kept scrolling, and across the table Jaehyun had settled into a posture that Jisung could only describe as trying to be attentive. For the older man had the look of a man who had agreed to be here and was honoring the chance and absolutely nothing beyond it.

When his Mother said something that warranted a response, he gave one—measured, appropriate with the correct number of words, then went back to staring at nothing.

Maybe he was tired of taking care of his kids?

Their fathers had moved on to talking about their main agendas after eating, the airline hotel-logistics or whatever that was dressed in a floral centerpiece that had to be Sungchan and Jisung themselves.

So Jisung just sat there, nodding along at the intervals that seemed to require nodding and when he glanced to his right, his brother had his eyes slightly glazed in the particular way that he was obviously not thinking about anything, just staring and disassociating, which was common for Sunghoon. And his sister?? Sohyun had excused herself to the restroom after dinner and she had not come back since.

She had, Jisung would later found out, made friends with the Manager and was getting a full tour of the kitchen.

"Sungchan, isn't that right?" Jisung's head turned and so did Sungchan's—a beat late, his phone tilting down. And yes, he was again on his phone, even after dinner.

"Sorry?" Sungchan said and his voice was even, unbothered, and the kind of voice that gave nothing away. He looked at his mother with a soft smile and not at Jisung.

"I was just saying that you've been so busy lately! The acquisition and everything."

"Oh right—yes, it's been a full month." Sungchan nodded and his Mother smiled, the conversation folded back towards their parents and Sungchan's phone came back up.

Jisung looked at him through the side of his eyes and pressed his tongue to the insides of his cheek. But he didn't know what exactly he expected. He'd turned it over enough times in the two weeks since his Dad's announcement, he also had rehearsed versions of this dinner in different directions of Sungchan saying 'i'm sorry, i didn't even know it myself' or 'i thought it kinda made sense' or 'are you okay with this?'

Or any acknowledgement that there was a this at all, that two people; Sungchan and Jisung were sitting at a table because their fathers had decided the hotel-to-and-airline pipeline needed a human face to seal it on.

Still, Sungchan scrolled on his phone.

The dinner had lasted two hours, their fathers shook hands at the end of it and their mothers kissed each other's cheek and exchanged numbers—again, they already had each other's numbers, actually, they had always had each other's numbers but there was a ceremony to it now.

Jaehyun caught Jisung's eye as they were putting on coats near the entrance, and gave him a single, small look that Jisung could not fully decode; something between sorry about all this, and good luck, or possibly i'm also tired. It lasted half a second before Jaehyun ruffled his hair, then turned to say something quiet to Sungchan, who just again—nodded at Jisung before walking out ahead.

And he stood there, with his coat in his arms as he watched them go.

"How was it, hyung?" Sunghoon appeared beside him from nowhere, already in his coat, his scarf was on and somehow transitioned to dinner to departure without Jisung noticing. "Did you two talk?"

"We nodded at each other." Sunghoon looked at him, considering his response. "Uh, i guess that's something?"

"It's really not."

Sohyun materialized herself on his other side, smelling faintly of something from the kitchen as she was trying to wear her own coat and linked her arm through Jisung's

"The chef told me that the creme brulee is the move, by the way! For the wedding dessert table, just putting it out there to be considered." Sunghoon choked out a laugh before covering his mouth.

"Sohyun," Jisung warned was he tightly closed his eyes. "What?? I'm being helpful, Oppa! I'm being a resource!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say," Sunghoon laughed as he opened the door, Jisung letting his twin siblings steer him out the door.

"Shut up, Sunghoon!" Sohyun rolled her eyes as they finally went outside, and the Jung Family's car was already pulling away, Jisung watched the tail lights until they turned the corner, and thought about a version of Sungchan that used to stand quietly next to him with a champagne flute in hand, somehow making a crowded room feel smaller and easier.

And that same Sungchan, apparently was on his phone tonight.

So Jisung just pulled his scarf against the cold and followed his own family to the car.

Sungchan's text appeared on Jisung's smart watch three days later. No preamble, no 'hey, sorry for texting out of nowhere' —just Sungchan directly texting texting

Jung Sungchan: The coordinator asks for your preferred colored palette for the reception?? Minimalist or Maximalist?? She told me they need it by Thursday, i'll be forwarding her message to you as well.

Park Jisung: Minimalist, whites and neutrals, i'll send references once i got home.

Jung Sungchan: Okay, send them to this number.

And that was that, that was, apparently, how this was supposed to go. He sent the references through the text message and Sungchan just gave a thumbs up—a fucking thumbs up!

That became a rhythm within the week, Sungchan and Ms, Oh (their wedding coordinator) and him have been texting for the first week. Ms. Oh was an angel, she talked to Jisung al throughout while Sungchan??

He was texting both Jisung and Ms. Oh with the efficiency of someone filing reports! He was specific, clipped, and never a word more then what's necessary. While Jisung answered in kind because it was easier than alternative, which was acknowledging that they were planning a wedding the way most people planned a shared Google Calendar.

When Ms. Oh would send a text, Jisung would answer. That's what usually happens because even if Sungchan was busy scrolling on his phone, he apparently doesn't have time to answer a text.

It was Sunghoon who noticed first, the way he noticed most things; quietly, without announcing it, and just filling it away until the right moment.

They were in Jisung's room, Sunghoon was on the couch with his long legs over the arm rest in a way that should've looked undignified but it didn't, he was still in his pajama munching on a biscuit while reading a book, and Jisung was at his desk pretending to read through related articles for his thesis when his phone buzzed.

He picked it up, read it and set it back down—but he flung his left arm to look at the notif.

"What?" Sunghoon said, not looking up from his book. "Nothing."

"You made a face."

"I didn't make a face."

"Hyung," Sunghoon turned a page, still not looking at his brother. "You made the face when something surprises you but you don't want it to surprise you."

Jisung rolled his eyes and looked at the message again and went back to his laptop. Across the room, Sunghoon had finally closed his book and now watches as Jisung went—tried to get back on his laptop.

"What?"

"Nothing!" Sunghoon said, in a tone that meant the exact opposite, he reopened his book and went back to reading. "Was it Sungchan-ssi?"

"Wedding stuff."

"Right," Sunghoon paused. "Just wedding stuff?"

"Yes, Sunghoon. Just wedding stuff." Sungchan made a small neutral sound that somehow managed to communicate an entirely different opinion while Jisung chose not to engage with it.

A few days after that, Sungchan sends him another texts about how the coordinator thought that it was better this way and Jisung realizes that he was never actually consulted directly, just through text messages, but looking back to his and Ms. Oh's text's everything seems to be patched up properly??

So who exactly was the coordinator Sungchan was talking about?? He also had embedded a file where every detail comes back wrong; the seating arrangement, a menu option that Jisung had a specific opinion about.

It had started small but all his preferences went through Sungchan's filter first—and that's when it tips over.

Because it's not just irritating—it's down right humiliating. He is a Park. He had opinions and he did not agree to be a passive aggressive participant in his own wedding just because Sungchan decided to run point without asking.

So he texts Sungchan.

Park Jisung: Can we just meet with the coordinator together? Or i can go alone, either works for me.

Jung Sungchan: Alright, oh by the way, my secretary emailed you a Google Calendar invite, you can insert your schedule there from now on so we can catch each other's free time.

Jisung just accepted the invited and didn't even gave Sungchan a response. It was quick, he had only inserted his Major classes and his Thesis schedule, there were overlapping schedules with Sungchan's work but he noticed that the Wedding planning appointments were always around their free time.

"Wow, How convenient."He tells himself as he pinned the tab and that's how he realized that he had been CC'd on his own wedding; the question filtered through Sungchan, the palette options that kinda arrived as a shortlist that someone else had already narrowed down.

So the very next morning, after his thesis meeting with his prof and a lecture, he opens his phone and finds the next coordinator slot and texts Ms. Oh directly.

Ms. Oh Yerin: Hi! I'll be coming alone for Thursday's session. Please prepare the full palette presentation.

He doesn't tell Sungchan, and that feels somehow important because in this? He didn't need permission, he doesn't need to be forwarded, he didn't need to be CC'ed.

And so he goes.

Jisung arrived at the office at 3:02 PM. Ms. Oh Yerin greeted him by the lobby, she was professional, warm and very carefully tried not to react as the groom arrived alone. As a wedding coordinator she deals with a lot stranger things so this is not exceptional.

When they reached an the cafe just inside their office, she spreads the swatches across the table, directly at Jisung who takes his time with them, more time than he expected to because it turns out he has opinions about this that he can directly as Ms. Oh unlike how he can't even respond that quick when they were texting.

"Oh i like these," Jisung finally says as he picks ivory over white; it was warmer, less stark,. Dusty sage for the accents, nothing shiny and nothing that tries too hard. "Shall i confirm these with—"

"Confirm them with me," Jisung says, his voice comes out steadier than he feels. "I'll be the point of contact going forward." She nods and makes a note and moves on.

Jisung takes the swatches home in a little envelope as he meets Sohyun by the living room. His sister giving him the stinky eye as she watched him walk upstairs.

And that night, he just sent one message to Sungchan.

Park Jisung: palette is confirmed, i chose ivory and sage, references will be upload in the shared folder, the rest of the explicit information is on Ms. Oh.

Jung Sungchan: okay.

For the second session was the flower picking; he's more comfortable this time and he even jokes with Ms. Oh and her assistant. He sits down like he belongs there—which he does, which he's reminding himself of.

The Florist that Ms Oh has brought, brought in lays out options and Jisung moves through them with the same decisiveness that he didn't know he had until he started doing this alone.

He didn't want no roses—they're too expected, they'd already agreed that over the text and he lands on something the florist herself recommended; something with white ranunculus and a trailing greenery, minimal and architectural almost.

It was something that didn't shout, and it was something that Jisung preferred.

The third session was the venue walk through, he was driven by Sunghoon this time because Sohyun had a prior engagement and also because Sunghoon had been angling for an intel since the no-show-Sungchan incident.

He is, relatively subtle about it. He walks the venue with his hands in his pockets, trailing behind his older brother who was talking to Ms. Oh. The venue was an outdoor place, big trees here and there and they gave a cool summer vive that his older brother really likes.

Sunghoon was certain that Jisung choose this—it was his wedding after all.

In the drive home, Sunghoon looks at Jisung, and then;

"He still hasn't come with you."

"He's busy."

"Has he said that?"

"We haven't discussed it." Sunghoon makes the neutral sound and Jisung elects not to hear it.

He updated the shared calendar that night, session notes in the shared column, everything confirmed and filed, tidy and contained—his.

And when he was prepping for his nightly study routine, his phone buzzes.

Jung Sungchan: I'll come with for the next one.

There was no explanation, no apology, just that statement, sitting there in the chat like he'd simply decided. Jisung reads it, then reads it again. He opened the calendar, finds the next appointment schedule—and Sungchan's schedule block was moved—actually wasn't there anymore.

It had shifted to make the appointment fit. Jisung hadn't noticed this earlier today, and when he'd checked the timestamp, it was edited three days ago.

So what was that?? Sungchan had been planning to come, he'd just waited now until to do so?? He should've told Jisung yesterday or even earlier today so he could also see the venue!

But instead of crashing out, he just types back a simple 'okay' before placing his phone on his table.

For the next seesion, Sungchan was already there when Jisung arrived, and oh someone's pride was stomped and kicked on, because this was not how he had imagined it.

He'd imagined driving first, being settled, having upper hand of the familiar space because he had been here multiple times! He knew where Ms. Oh kept her sample binders, he knew the good chair, the one that didn't wobble.

Instead, he found Sungchan standing by the mood board wall with his coat on, hands on his pocket, reading the palette swatches that Ms. Oh had pinned up from Jisung's first session like he was studying a brief email he hadn't been sent—but Jisung sent it.

"Good Morning, Jisung-ssi!" Ms. Oh looked up from her desk with a warm smile and Jisung returned that. "Good Morning, Ms. Oh." He said, his eyes still on Sungchan—his fiance.

Sungchan turned, and he nodded again; the same measured acknowledgement that Jisung had been cataloguing since they were kids, since the dinner and it was still unreadable, still gives nothing and then Sungchan looked back at the board.

"Ivory?"

"Yes," Jisung said, setting his bag down. "Not white?"

"No," Sungchan paused, tilting his head slightly the way it did when he was thinking something he hadn't decided to say it. Jisung recognized it from the years of occasional proximity and it was, frankly annoying that he recognized it at all.

"Why ivory though?"

"Why does it matter?"

"I'm not saying it's wrong," Sungchan said, still looking at the swatches. "I'm asking why."

It wasn't supposed to be combative because Sungchan talked like he always does, his voice even, the same flat calm that made it hard to tell whether he was challenging something or was he genuinely curious.

Jisung rolled his eyes and stood beside Sungchan. "White is stark and too bright. Ivory is warmer. It photographs better in low light and it doesn't wash out against—" he gestured at the floral photo, still pinned beside the palette. "—the ranunculus and the veins."

Sungchan looked at the flowers, then at the ivory swatch. "And the sage?"

"The sage," Jisung confirmed. "We said no to Maximalist, and sage is quiet without disappearing." Sungchan was quiet for a moment.

Then he reached out and touched the corners of the sage swatch—just with two fingers, not picking it up nor pulling it out the board, he was just, feeling the paper—and Jisung had no idea what to do with that and why Sungchan was doing that.

"It's going to look like a greenhouse," Sungchan said and Jisung blinked. "W-what? Excuse me?"

"Ivory and sage. Our wedding will look like a greenhouse,"Sungchan finally turned to look at him properly, and it was a lot—actually, up close, without a phone screen to buffer or a crowded room to disperse the attention.

"Against white tablecloths and presumably natural light. It's going to look like a very elegant greenhouse."

"That's not—" Jisung stopped, looked at the board, the floral photos and looked at the venue photos that he added after the last session.

Oh.

He could see it, annoyingly and clearly. He could absolutely see it—the whole thing together, the trailing greenery, the sage accents and the ivory against the white—and it did, it looked like—

"It looks like a greenhouse," Jisung said, against his will. "It does, doesn't it?" Sungchan agreed without any victory—just a statement.

"That's not necessarily bad." Jisung pressed the tip of his fingers on the counter and Sungchan nodded. "No," He said. "I didn't say it was bad."

"You implied—"

"I said, It looks like a greenhouse; i like greenhouses." Sungchan said it simply, like this resolved something, then he looked at Ms Oh, who had been sitting at her desk with the professional stillness of someone with the very practiced at not visibly listening.

"Can we see it mocked up? The whole palette together with the venue photos."

"Of course," Ms. Oh said, already pulling her tablet up with the energy of someone who had been waiting for this exact moment for four sessions. Jisung sat down in his chair—the good one, the one that didn't wobble, at least he had that—and Sungchan pulled up the one beside him, close enough that Jisung could see the slight crease at the collar of his coat.

Ms. Oh turned the tablet around and they both looked at it. And it was—well, exactly what Sungchan had said. Every element Jisung had chosen throughout the sessions were assembled into a single image. It was coherent, warm, quiet and it looked, undeniably, like a very beautiful greenhouse.

"Oh that's actually—" Jisung started and Sungchan nodded. "Yeah." They looked at it for another moment in silence before Ms. Oh talked.

"You guys can still come up with new designs with your given palette, just make sure to send it to us a two weeks prior your wedding." Ms. Oh made a note with the small, contained smile of someone who understood exactly what she was witnessing.

Jisung did not ask her to elaborate on that smile, he preferred not to know. He just pulled out the shared binder towards himself and flipped to the next section—catering, which they obviously hadn't discussed yet, which Jisung had opinions about—and a lot at that.

They (Sungchan and Jisung) had been talking about the catering menu and the program flow, they'd been at it for two hours by then, longer than Jisung's solo sessions, which had been efficient specifically because Jisung had come in prepared and left when the task was done.

This was different, because this was Sungchan having notes, actual notes. Not bulleted points but a folded piece of paper he'd produced from his jacket pocket like it was normal to hand write wedding planning notes, and those notes even overlapped with Jisung's, well some hadn't but when they were navigating the difference, it took significantly longer than Jisung had budgeted for.

Not because they were fighting. That would've been easier, almost. Because it was more that they kept almost-agreeing and then not quite, circling the same points from different angles and Ms. Oh was noting it, typing on her laptop with the patience of a saint while Jisung's coffee went cold.

His thesis was due in seven weeks and he hadn't opened the document in four days and he was thinking about this when Sungchan was telling Ms. Oh the final catering menu—thinking about it not productively, just it being the low hum of it underneath everything else—and then his phone rang.

He glanced at the screen: Sunghoon.

"O-Oh, sorry," he said to Ms. Oh, already standing. "One second." He stepped away from the table and picked up. "What?"

"Hyung," Sunghoon's voice had the very specific tone he used when he was about to say or ask something that require per-emotive bracing. "Soooo, question."

"No."

"You don't know what i'm going to ask!"

"Whatever it is, no."

"Can Sohyun and i borrow your car?" Jisung turned slightly towards the window. "Why would you need my car? You have a car." His eyebrows scrunched together.

"Our car, you mean."

"It's both yours, oh and by the way, you have your own as well."

"Sohyun won't let me drive it anymore since the parking thing—"

"The parking thing," Jisung repeated, already closing his eyes tight. "You took almost took out a column in the parking garage, Sunghoon."

"It was compromised already—"

"You know what, just use a cab. I'll pay—"

"We actually found a dog." Jisung stopped and turned away from Ms. Oh and Sungchan. "There's a dog, hyung. it was just sitting outside the convi! and it has a little face—hyung, Sohyun is already attached, you know how she gets, we need to take it to the vet but we can't fit in a cab comfortably because it's not a small dog—"

"How big is it?" Sunghoon paused—a slightly too long pause. "It's a medium dog."

"Sunghoon—"

"Large dog! It's a large dog! But hyung, he's very sweet."

"I'm using my car, Sunghoon," Jisung said,pressing two fingers to his forehead. "I drove here."

"Can we come get it? I can get it. We'll drop you—"

"I'm not done—"

"But Hyung, the dog!"

"I cannot believe—" He turned back to the table without thinking and found both Ms. Oh and Sungchan watching him with different expressions; Ms. Oh polite and patient, Sungchan with his pen stopped mid-note, something that might've been almost-amusement in the corner of his mouth.

"Fine! You can have the car, but you're picking me up after."

"About that," Sunghoon said. "We don't know how long the vet will take—"

"Then send Sohyun to pick me up."

"Sohyun is currently very very emotionally involved right now—"

"Sunghoon, i swear—"

"Okay, okay! I'll pick you up!"

"Fine."

"Be there in 10."

"Goodbye," Jisung said, and hung up. He stood there for a second then walked back to the table, sat down and picked up his pen, and looked at the seating chart like he hadn't just negotiated a dog-related transportation crisis.

"Is everything alright, Jisung-ssi?" Ms. Oh asked. "My siblings found a dog," Jisung said flatly. "And they're coming to get my car in 10."

"I'll drive you home," Sungchan said and Jisung looked at him. "You don't have to—"

"I drove here," Sungchan said simply, already looking down back at his notes as he waited for Jisung to sit back down. "It's not a problem." Jisung opened his mouth, closed it and looked at Ms. Oh who was typing something, not reacting.

"Alright," Jisung said. "Thank you."

They went back to the seating chart and after 10 minutes, Sunghoon picked up the car keys—in his workout clothes, obviously on a walk with Sohyun and Jisung pinched his arm before making him leave.

The session lasted 40 more minutes after that. But it wasn't always the polished proper meeting that Jisung expected; it wasn't one thing, it was the accumulation of things, and the seating chart toppled in the room when that happened.

"The Park Family should be seated on the right side," Sungchan said, indicating a table near the front. "I already moved them there in the second seesion," Jisung informed and Sungchan scrunched his eyebrows.

"Then why is the draft still showing—"

"Because this is the working copy. I already told you that in the text, the updated on is in the shared folder."

"I didn't see an update in the shared folder."

"I uploaded it Tuesday this week."

"I didn't get a notification."

"I cannot control your notifications, Sungchan."

"I'm not saying you can, i'm saying that i didn't see it."

"Then check the folder!" Jisung snapped, pulling the binder across and flipping it across the page where the seating arrangement were already finalized, and turned to face Sungchan.

"It's there. I already did it. It's been done." Sungchan looked at the page. "A lot of this has already been done," Jisung said, and he could hear the edge in his own voice and couldn't entirely flatten it.

"The palette, the flowers, the venue walk-through. The preliminary catering short list, the seating draft. Everything that's been done, I did it. While also doing my Masteral thesis which—" Jisung stopped himself, pressing his fingers flat against the table. "It's fine, it's done."

Silence erupted in the room as Jisung looked away. Ms. Oh had gone very still in the way of someone who had made a professional assessment of the room and was clearly used to these types of outbursts.

Sungchan was looking at the page, then he looked at Jisung, and it was the same look from the venue, from the palette wall, from the dinner; it was that unreadable even thing that Jisung could never parse—except there was something else underneath it now, something that sat differently.

He didn't say that i asked you to do all of that, he didn't say i was busy, he didn't say anything that Jisung had half-prepared a response to, so he just says

"I know,"

"I know you did," Sungchan added. "I should have been here earlier."

Jisung froze, he hadn't expected this let alone do with it. He had braced himself for deflection, the flatness to hold and instead, he'd gotten two sentences that landed without any cushioning at all. No excuses nor bargaining attached, just the acknowledgement sitting there on the table between them like another swatch to consider.

He looked away quickly, gazing back down at his notes. "We still need to finalize the table assignments."

"R-right," Sungchan said, pulling the binder back between them. "What do you wanna happen? Tell me so i can consider." He said sweetly and Jisung could almost sob right there and then.

Ms. Oh just resumed typing as he let the two talk it out, Sungchan murmuring apologies and Jisung rolling his eyes in the process.

Forty minutes later, they wrapped. Ms. Oh walked them out as the sun started setting, the session summary already drafted because she was that excellent at her job, and shook both their hands at the door.

As they headed out she turned back to her desk, and her assistant who had been in the back office for most of the session looked up. "How was it?"

"They're going to be fine." Ms. Oh set the binder and her laptop down. "Was the fight bad?" Her assistant blinked and Ms. Oh just shook her head with a small smile.

"First real fight," She said, in the tone of someone with fifteen years of wedding planning and coordination and a very accurate internal calibration for these things. "Always happens around third or four session. He's stressed about something about this—school? work? and it came out sideways."

"The other one didn't fight back, he just apologized."

"Wow, that's good right?"

"Very good, actually," she said. "The ones who can't do that are the ones who calls six months in to cancel. They'll be fine."

On the drive home, Sungchan's car was quieter than the restaurant had been, which was saying something. Jisung had given their home address and Sungchan had put it in without comment, and now, they were navigating evening traffic in the specific silence that had settled over them.

He remembered what Sungchan had said "I know, i should've been here earlier." Jisung wasn't uncomfortable about it per se, it was just present and aware of itself.

"So your thesis?" Sungchan said and Jisung glanced at him prying his eyes away from the city. "What?"

"That's what your behind on." It wasn't a question, Jisung looked at the window again. "It's fine."

"You said so while also doing my thesis like it was something you were barely keeping ahead of."

"I said it's fine, i can manage." A pause, Sungchan changed lanes with the same unhurried calm like he did in everything else. "What's it about?" Jisung looked at him again, slightly wary of the question, like it might be leading somewhere.

"Sexually Assaulted Men, specifically those who had a hard time seeking help—" he stopped and looked at Sungchan. "Why?"

"I'm just asking."

"You're not a small talk person." Sungchan's mouth moved—an almost smile, the corner shift that never quite became a smile. "No."

"So why are you asking about my thesis?"

"Because you're obviously stressed about it and we have twenty minutes in traffic," Sungchan simply said. "And talking about it is usually better than not talking about it." Jisung stared at him for a moment and then:

"It's about the experienced sexual harassment of men—survivors who've been harassed by both men and women, and the patterns around why they don't seek help—on why the can't, usually." He paused. "My advisor thinks the scope is too broad. She wants me to narrow down the demographic."

"Is she wrong?"

"About the scope? Probably not, it's a mixed method study." Jisung looked out the window. "But narrowing the demographic feels like—it defeats the point. The whole argument is that the silence cuts across lines; age, background, the gender identity of the person who harassed them but the pattern isn't demographic, the pattern is the silence itself."

"That's what i'm actually trying to write about and my adviser keeps asking me to provide the what i—but i keep on wanting to write about the why."

"Then the silence is the subject, the rest is just methodology," Sungchan's hands shifted slightly on the wheel.

"Your advisor probably wants a narrower what because it's easier to defend. But if the why is what you actually found—the part that holds across all the other variables—then that's not actually a scope problem, that's your thesis, and that's actually something you were bound to write about." Jisung stared at him for a second too long, as if Sungchan grew two heads.

"What?" He asked and Jisung just faced forward. "Nothing. It's just that, nobody's said it like that before."

"Like what?"

"Like it's something easier, like it's simple."

Sungchan didn't respond to that anymore, he just drove, the city moving past in the way it did at this house, all amber light now and the particular calmness of the setting afternoon, and Jisung sat back with what had just been handed back to him—his own argument, re framed, reconstructed and clarified.

Because throughout this thesis, nobody had asked what he was actually trying to say, or if they had, they hadn't waited in quite the right way for the answer.

They were already on the gates of Jisung's village when Sungchan said, "I'm sorry." Jisung turned to look at him with questioning eyes as Sungchan still faced the front, focusing on driving.

"For the sessions," Sungchan said, his eyes still on the road. "The first three, you informed me about it every time and i—i should've been there."

"It's fine, i knew you were busy." Jisung said, which was what he'd been telling himself and his siblings for more than three weeks, and which sounded, out loud in this car on how exactly hollow as it actually was.

"I was," Sungchan said. "That's true, but it's not the full reason. Because i thought that i handled the coordination side while keeping it at a distance, i think that it would be easier, for you."

"Easier for me?"

"Less imposed on, because you didn't asked for this, and i didn't want to make it worse by also being in the room." Jisung faced forward, thinking about the three sessions in Ms. Oh's office, the binder he'd taken ownership of because it was the only thing in this arrangement that he could call his, and the way it felt like agency when maybe part of it had just been absence—Sungchan's absence.

Of Sungchan leaving a deliberate space and Jisung filling it without knowing that was what's happening. He didn't know how he felt about that yet. It was too many things at once.

"That wasn't your decision to make, and it wasn't mine also." Jisung said, his voice finally quiet. "I know," Sungchan said, same words as earlier in the table.

"I know it wasn't."

Sungchan pulled up by the curb, the Park Family's house standing tall and proud by the left side, Sungchan didn't immediately say anything else and Jisung didn't reach for his bag just yet. The silence held for a moment without either of them filling it.

"I'll pick you up for the next session." Jisung glanced at him. "I'm not just gonna arrive there, i will pick you up from here and take you with me." He said it like a small thing, but he also said it like it wasn't both at once.

"The session's at ten, next—this Sunday," he said. "I know, i checked the calendar."

"It's across town. Traffic is bad that side in the morning."

"Then i'll leave early."

Jisung picked up his bag, opened the door and stood with one foot on the pavement and looked back in. "Don't be late." Sungchan met his eyes and smiled softly. "I won't"

Jisung went out, didn't look back at the car until he was at their gate, and by then, Sungchan was still there—he hadn't pulled away yet and Jisung couldn't tell from this distance whether he was checking his phone or just sitting there, but either way, he waited until Jisung was through the gate before he drove off.

Jisung noticed this when he closed the gate shut—then he told himself that he hadn't.

"Who gave you those?" Sohyun raised her eyebrow as she walked down the stairs, pulling her earphone out of one year before staring down at Jisung who was carrying a blue bouquet, specifically blue hydrangeas with white ranunculus—right, very subtle.

"It was Sungchan of course! How sweet, that boy really." Their Mom shrieked in excitement as she kept on taking photos and photos of Jisung carrying the bouquet, making sure to send it to Sungchan's Mom.

Sohyun looked at him, both eyebrows now raised in curiosity. "Sungchan-ssi?? How interesting." Jisung tightly closed his eyes before calling on a maid, asking her to clean the bouquet and place the flowers in a jar and place it in his room.

"Don't start, Sohyun." Jisung warned as they maid nodded at him, exiting the living room. "What? I'm not even starting anything." Their Mom laughed and pinched Sohyun's cheek. "That's right, my Sohyunnie isn't even starting anything!"

Jisung rolled his eyes and was about to turn away when his phone pinged.

[SCHEDULE]: Cake Tasting with Ms. Oh, make sure to bring everyone.

The jar stood still on his windowsill. Jisung had told himself he put it there for the natural light because the flower lasted longer with indirect sunlight; that was just practical—and not because it was the first thing he will be seeing when he woke up.

Which it was, and which he was not going to examine: what he was examining was his outfit for today instead! It's such a more productive use of this time for it was cake tasting day.

Yes, it was just cake tasting day not a formal event so why did he change his clothes twice already?? But he chose not to investigate that either, so he just settled on what he'd had on the second time—dark pants, a grey knitted sweater and his black derby shoes that Sohyun had once told him that he looked casual more than ever.

His phone buzzed.

Jung Sungchan: I'm on my way.

Jisung looked at the message, then at the jar on the windowsill, telling himself that he's looking at the window below.

Park Jisung: Okay.

His Mother was already in the living room, drinking her cup of tea when he reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Sungchan is already here, Jisung-ah." she announced, with the energy of a sports commentator, his phone already raised. "He's parking—oh! He parallel parked perfectly on the first try, jisungie, did you see—"

"Mom," Jisung called out, taking his longer coat and his bag. "I'm just observing—"

"You're narrating!"

Sohyun appeared rom the kitchen with a piece of toast in her hand, looking out the window with her head wrapped in a cotton towel. She looked at Jisung and raised both of her eyebrows again.

"He came to the house," she said and Jisung turned to look at her. "He's picking me up," Jisung said. "That's what picking someone up means."

"He came to the house," she repeated, like the distinction mattered, which they both knew it did, because Sungchan could have just sent a text from the curb, or he could've just waited and he didn't have to pull up to the Park family home like it was a decision he made on purpose—which he obviously did.

Jung Sungchan: outside.

"I know," Jisung whispered to himself out loud, to nobody as he finally wore his coat. "Have fun, Jisungie! Yah! Sohyun-ah, wake your brother up so you can follow suit." She called after Sohyun, following her to the kitchen and Jisung just left.

Outside, the morning was grey and cool, the snow landing softly by the road but not making the road slippery, it was the perfect day—supposed to. The Park Family home standing tall behind Jisung as he came down the front steps.

Sungchan was leaning against the passenger side—not even sitting inside, not on his phone—but he was just standing there with his hands in his coat pockets, and he looked up when Jisung came through the gate with the same quiet attention he gave most things.

"You're early." Jisung said, he had been preparing for a lot of versions of this but what he hadn't prepared for is for Sungchan to have simply shown up like this; early, present and is waiting outside like arriving to their gate like it was the obvious thing to do.

"Traffic was light."

"It's never light this side in the morning."

"It was—today." Sungchan looked back at him, even and unbothered, and opened the passenger door in a single motion that was so matter-of-fact that Jisung got in before he'd consciously decided to.

The door closed and Sungchan closed it, easily walking around the driver's side. While Jisung sat in the passenger seat and stared forward because Sungchan had done it the way you'd simply decided to do so.

"The others are meeting us there?" Sungchan asked as he drove. "Sunghoon and Sohyun are coming together, how about your brother?"

"Jaehyun and Jungwoo hyung are already on their way. Jungwoo hyung texted me at seven this morning about it."

"He texted you at seven—"

"He's enthusiastic," Sungchan laughed softly and Jisung smiled, looking out the window.

"The flowers," he said when they reached a stop light. Sungchan's hands stayed easy on the wheel. "What about them?" He asked like it was the most natural thing in the world to talk about.

"The ranunculus and the hydrangeas?" Jisung said his eyes forward. "You didn't have to do that."

"I know,"

"It was—" Jisung stopped, recalibrating. "It was a lot."

"It was just flowers."

"It was our flowers, Sungchan." The word landed in the car and just sat there. Jisung felt it the moment it left his mouth—the way it was true in a logistics sense and well, also true in some other sense that he hadn't intended to hand over.

"Yeah," Sungchan said after being quiet for a moment. "It was a good choice," Sungchan said, after a moment. Quiet and not pushing it anywhere.

"I read the ranunculus in your second session."

"I know what it was," Jisung said and Sungchan chuckled, low and brief. "I know that you know." he said and Jisung tucked his chin into the scarf and said nothing else.

They arrived at the patisserie around 9:30 AM and they were gree ted by a composed woman—the pastry chef, Mrs. Cho Hyerim who had the bubbly energy of someone who had seen every variety of human behavior in a dessert table could produce.

And the minute Jisung and Sungchan arrived, she already arranged the samples: six samples and six plates. Each slice of a cake, a label card, a small notation of the flavor components and a complimentary tea or coffee. Clean, organized and Jisung appreciated this about her immediately.

Jaehyun, was at the far end of the table, his coat already off looking at the sample cards with the careful attention of someone who was trying o take this seriously now that he was here. And well, Jungwoo—Jungwoo wasn't at the table at all.

He was photographing the display cake near the entrance from three different angles, his phone tilted, stepping back to assess the photo and smiling to himself as he took another one.

"He's been doing that since we've arrived," Jaehyun said, by way of greeting, without looking up from the sample cards. "How long have you been here?" Jisung asked.

"23 minutes," Jaehyun says with a small smile on his face. "Took you guys long enough." Sungchan made a small sound that meant he'd expected this. He pulled out a chair for Jisung—not his own chair, Jisung's, the one beside the one he then took for himself.

And Jisung sat down before he'd consciously processed it was happening: he was starting to notice a pattern with that.

"These cakes looks so incredible!" Jungwoo said as he sat down across Sungchan, already reaching for a label card. "Cho-ssi, did you make all of these by yourself?"

"With my team, yes." Hyerim smiled softly as she assisted the staff to give out coffee in that fine morning. "The piping on the display cake outside. Our son would love—"

"Jungwoo hyung," Sungchan said. "I'm just asking—"

"The samples first." Jungwoo looked at Jaehyun who smiled at him and patted his back softly. "Right! Yes. Sorry, Cho-ssi, i got excited." Hyerim just smiled, a smile of a person who did not entirely mind at all.

"Whenever you're ready." They weren't ready, because the door opened and Sohyun's voice arrived approximately two seconds before she did.

"I told you the parking was fine—"

"You went into the spot at an angle—"

"It was at an angle! The car next to us was over the line."

"That's called adapting to certain circumstances, Sunghoon-ah."

The Park twins came through the door in the middle of what was clearly going on—and what was again going on between the two of them. Sohyun had her coat and her clothes slightly creased while Sunghoon, was already fully composed despite arguing with his twin sister, looking like he'd arrived in a completely different vehicle.

"We apologized for arriving late—" Sunghoon started as Sohyun scanned the table, already moving. "Oh the samples are ready!" she stopped when she saw Jisung and Sungchan sitting side-by-side like a normal occurrence.

"Hi Sungchan-ssi,"

"Sohyun-ssi, Sunghoon-ssi," Sungchan nodded and watched as the twins took the seat across them, then Sunghoon looking at both of them with the particular blank face that was thinking of the particular amount of space—or the lack of it—between them.

Jisung looked at him, his eyes flat and coursing as Sunghoon smirked. "There are six cakes." he observed, looking away with his stupid smirk making Jisung roll his eyes. "There are six of us," Jisung answered and Sunghoon nodded theatrically.

"Right," he paused. "Good." Jisung recognized the tone but he chose not to engage with it.

Cho Hyerim walked them through each sample in order: the flavor, the filling and the structural notes for a tiered cake, how each one photographed will look different in different lighting conditions.

She was excellent at this, clear, warm and practical, and Jisung found himself actually listening rather than just nodding. Beside him, Sungchan had his iPad out.

It was a sketching app, and Sungchan was drawing—drafting, rather, with the focused precision of someone who knew exactly what they were building. Jisung looked at the cake, and looked back at the iPad.

It was the venue, sketched out in clean lines, the garden layout, the ceremony space and the reception area. The arch position in between two large trees, adding details as he sat there listening to Hyerim talk about cakes.

"The earl grey, Oppa." Sohyun was saying with the analytical focus she usually reserved for things she was about to argue against. "It's more complex and i can see why someone would choose it, but, i still think the raspberry is the superior emotional experience."

Jaehyun laughed at her—not the teasing laugh but the wholesome laugh that made Sohyun nod at him.

"We're not choosing based on your emotional experience," Jisung said, setting his fork down. "And also, the earl grey pairs with the palette. The flavor profile is cohesive."

"Oppa nobody's going to eat the palette."

"Sungchan-ssi, what do you think?" Sunghoon mildly said as he was wiping his mouth with a tissue. It was the particular mildness of someone who knew exactly what he was doing, because there is one thing about the Park siblings, and that is they will banter—everywhere.

Sungchan set his iPad down, looked at what Jisung and Sohyun has been fighting about and ate it the same unhurried calm like he did with everything else.

"I prefer the earl grey personally." Sohyun's mouth gaped, "You're biased, you're siding with my brother because he's your husband-to-be." Jaehyun and Jungwoo smiled at each other, obviously enjoying whatever this was.

"I haven't expressed any preferences before now."

"You didn't have to, the bias is structural." She gestured between them and Jisung with a playful smirk. "You two are going to keep voting the same way and the rest of us won't have any counter attack. You two are going to be so annoying, i can already tell."

"Jungwoo hyung hasn't voted." Sungchan said with a small laugh making everyone look at Jungwoo. "The lemon elderflower is technically the most sophisticated,"

"But i think the earl grey is the most them,"he said them, the way you said it when it was self-evident, like there was an established category of them: Jisung and Sungchan that is.

"So i'm voting earl grey." Sohyun looked at him and pouted. "Jungwoo Oppa, you were my wildcard!" Jungwoo laughed and pinched her cheek. "I know, sweetie. I'm sorry." He said looking genuinely looking apologetic.

"But the lemon elderflower is really good though, Cho-ssi. Can i take one to go?" Hyremin inclined her head, bowing slightly. "Yes of course, Thank you, Jungwoo-ssi."

"Can we do a secondary tier? Or can we mix two flavors in one cake?" Jisung finally considered as Hyerim looked at him. "Yes of course, what are the flavors that you'd like to combine?"

"Earl Grey and Raspberry." Sohyun sat back smirking. "There it is!" She ate a piece of the raspberry with vindicated energy. "Of course, than could happen."

"We all win."

After all the cake got settled—earl grey and raspberry, Sohyun vindicated and everyone moved on—the table gets loud again naturally. Cho Hyerim was talking to both Jaehyun and Jungwoo while Sohyun was beaming on her phone, Sunghoon on his own while tasting his own cake that he ordered, his book already out.

And in that noise, Sungchan quietly tilts the iPad towards Jisung, not announcing, not saying look at what i made—he just angled it softly so only Jisung can see it, the way you show someone something that's theirs entirely.

Jisung looks down, looking at it directly, takes in it properly: the arch between the trees, the shadow falling correctly because Sungchan checked the tree orientation, it was the venue, sketched in clean careful lines.

Sungchan also drew the reception site, round tables around the dance floor, the Park Hotel behind it, the garden plantings and the lights. He noticed that Sungchan drawn the lights last, he could tell. The lines were slightly different but it was drawn by the same hand, the same precision.

Nobody else at the table knew this happening. Jungwoo and Jaehyun were still talking to Hyerim and Sohyun had moved on from texting to bothering Sunghoon, asking about Snow—their dog.

It was just him: Jisung, the iPad and Sungchan sitting beside him not looking at the screen but clearly aware that Jisung was looking at it.

"The arch? The shadow falls left." Jisung said quietly enough that it stayed between the two of them. "Ceremony is at four," Sungchan whispered back, his eyes forward. "Trees runs east-west."

"You checked the orientation?"

"I checked it last Tuesday."

"It's good," Jisung said, the way he'd said it in the car, after the car, after the palette, after the flowers—the same word doing different work each time.

"I'll finalize it tonight," he said, picking the iPad up and setting it face-down on the table beside his coffee. Not putting it away, just closing the moment the same way he'd opened it. "Then i'll send it to Ms. Oh tomorrow."

Jisung reached for his coffee and said nothing else, while Sungchan didn't either, and the table continued around them the way it had been continuing; warm and loud and six people in a room together, while the other two sat quietly, something sitting between the two of them that had no name yet and obviously didn't need one.

They were already putting coats on near the entrance when Jaehyun fell into the step beside Jisung. He was holding two paper bags from the patisserie, one for Sion and one for Jungwoo. Jisung turned to look at him for this wasn't accidental, it never was especially with Jaehyun.

"He's been working on that since Tuesday," Jaehyun said quietly enough. "The sketch, i mean. He pulled up the venue photos on his laptop Tuesday night—we were at the house for dinner. He didn't say what it was for and he usually doesn't say what things are for." Jisung looked at him and Jaehyun looked back, brief.

"Why are you telling me?" Jisung asked. "Because he won't, Jaehyun said simply and that was it because he was just Jaehyun: nothing else. He moved ahead to where Jungwoo was waiting by the door, already thanking Cho Hyerim warmly for the third time, and Jisung stood in the entrance of the patisserie and did the math.

Today was Thursday, the sketch was Tuesday and the flowers were Wednesday. The blue hydrangeas and the white ranunculus in a jar on his windowsill.

Sungchan appeared beside him—both of their bags in hand, he took it and didn't say anything about Tuesday. Didn't say anything about the jar or the light or the grid on Sungchan's iPad.

"Ready." Sungchan asked and Jisung put his bag on his shoulder. "Yeah," he said. "Let's go."

They went out into the early afternoon together, and the door fell shut behind them. Like his hyung, Sungchan was carrying take outs from the patisserie, and for the whole ride Jisung kept quiet and kept the math to himself.

It was the 20th of December when Sungchan and Jisung decided to have their Wedding. It was, in accordance to what their Grandparents say.

"Get married in handless days! Where the evil spirits are absent so we can make sure that your marriage remain harmonious."

And given that December is one of the busiest month in Korea, good thing they had their own venue, their own place.

The car was already waiting when the three of them came through the hotel lobby doors—black, long and it was the kind their family used for events that required a certain type of arrival. The driver held the door without a word.

Sohyun got in first, then Jisung, and then Sunghoon, who paused before closing the door being him and reached forward to the panel beside the driver's seat. The privacy divider rose without a sound, nobody commented on it—nobody needed to.

The car pulled out into the December afternoon, bright and cold, the city moving past the tinted windows in the particular quiet of early events—there weren't many people out yet, the streets unhurried and calm.

But inside the car, the three Park children sat together, the way they had always been before the next thing began.

It was Sohyun who broke it first.

"Okay so—the service elevator is still an option, i checked this morning—"

"Sohyun-ah," Jisung said. "I'm just saying it's available—"

"We're already in the car."

"The car can turn around."

"It cannot," Sunghoon said, looking at everything except his siblings. "It physically can, Sunghoon, that's how cars work."

"That's not what i meant." Sohyun looked at him, Sunghoon was now staring at the window: watching the moving roads and there was something in the set of his jaw that made Sohyun go slightly quieter. Like she'd heard something in what Sunghoon said that she would not deal with.

She looked back at her phone, scrolling without reading anything.

"T-there's also the side exit," she said, her voice smaller now. "By the garden. It goes out to the street directly, we could—"

"Sohyun," Sunghoon's voice warned, gentle still. "Just quit it."

"I'm just—" she stopped and her jaw moved. "I'm just trying to—"

"I know, stop anyway."

She put her phone face-down on her knee, looked out her own window and Jisung watched her and saw how her face still had that tensed aura, like she was trying to hold back, trying to say something.

"Hey," Jisung said softly, taking her hand in the process and intertwining them with his. "I'm fine," Sohyun said immediately. "You're not."

"I am—" her voice cracked, just slightly, just at the edge of the word, and she closed her eyes, pressing her lips together and Jisung watched his younger sister try very hard not to cry in the back of a car on his wedding day.

"Sohyunnie," he said. "D-dont," she answered quickly. "If you're that nice to me right now, i'll actually—i'm fine." She stopped, took a breath and another one.

"I'm fine, i'm being stupid, this is stupid." Jisung and Sunghoon laughed at her. "This is not stupid," Jisung said squeezing her hand tighter.

"You're moving out," she said, and it came out more plainly than she'd mean it to, stripped of all the escape plan schemes and she's now facing the thing itself. "You're getting married and you're moving out the house and i know that's—" she stopped again , pressing her hand briefly to her mouth, not caring anymore if it ruins her makeup, she can get it fixed later.

"I know that's normal and i know people do that i just—" she shook her head and sighed. "Sorry, Oppa. I know that this is your day and i'm making it about me."

"It's also about you," Jisung said patting her arm. "You're allowed." Sunghoon reached across and also took a hold of Jisung's hand, just for a second and Sohyun looked at him, Sunghoon looking back and something passed between the two of them: something only twins do, a compressed language of people who literally shared everything: a face, a blood, a house, a family.

Sunghoon looked at Jisung and he sighed. He knew his brother that much—and he knew that he would be asking questions.

"Do you really want this? Do you really want to do this?" Sunghoon asked, not 'are you okay? are you nervous?' he instead went straight to the point and the center of it, the way he always does when he'd stopped being patient.

"Sunghoon—"Sohyun warned this time. "No," Sunghoon said, quietly. "He should answer for himself." The car moved through an intersection. Outside, someone was walking along the pavement, clouding in the cold and Jisung watched it for a moment.

"That's a real question," Sunghoon continued, his voice was even but there was something more underneath it, something that wasn't anger, but the adjacent to it in the way that fear was sometimes was. "Not the escape plan, not the logistics not the whatever thing it was. I'm asking you directly, hyung. Do you want this?"

"Sunghoon—"

"Because if you don't—if you don't that matters, and it matters more than the business, the hotel, the airline and whatever Mom and Dad and the Jungs decided over steak." He looked at Jisung steadily, squeezing his brother's hand in the process. "You matter more than that, especially to us, you know that."

Jisung looked at their intertwined hands, at him, and how he noticed that Sunghoon grew a lot indeed: he still has those thick eyebrows and moles that he shared with Sohyun, because they actually share a face. But this time. Sunghoon's eyes were very clear, very direct and it was doing that thing when he was holding something tightly.

Because underneath that graceful, and all calm aura was a twenty-two year old who was about to watch his older brother leave the house and was holding that with both hands and is trying not to say so.

Jisung then turned to look at Sohyun, she was watching him too, her own emotions banked to something quieter and waiting, and then he looked at both of his hands that his siblings were holding.

"I wanted this," he carefully said. "I want it to be something—a payback? To Mom and Dad?" he paused, trying to find the words.

"My debt of gratitude, i know it's cheesy but i want to return this to them, i don't know…as a gift? for everything. Everything they've given us—the private schools, the life, the name and everything they've built so that the three of us wouldn't worry about anything. I know what that cost them and i-i know what they gave up for it."

"S-so when they asked this of me—when Dad announced it like a product launch, like i'm a product launch and Mom smiled like it was the most natural thing in the world—i realized that after a few days that: okay, this is what i can give back, this is my part."

The car went silent, it was just him talking, and his twin siblings looking at him like two children listening to him as he read them bed time stories.

"So yes," Jisung said, looking at Sunghoon directly, squeezing both their hands in the process. "I want to do this not because of Mom and Dad, well that's still partly true. That's still a part of it and i'm not going to pretend that it isn't, but it's not entirely the whole reason anymore, and i think that matters." Sunghoon looked at him for a long moment.

Then he nodded, once, the same nod from everywhere where Sunghoon understood and arrived at his own conclusion—but this one was different, different in the way of something that had fully resolved.

"Okay," Sunghoon said, quiet and certain. "Okay, hyung." Sohyun sniffed and leaned her head on Jisung's shoulder. He didn't say anything and just let her hold on to him the way she'd been holding things her whole life.

The three of them sat in the sealed warmth of the divider-up car, and outside the city continued doing whatever cities did on the cold December afternoon.

"For what it's worth," Sohyun said, after a while, her voice recovered and dry in the way it got when she was covering something warm. "I think he genuinely likes you, not just package-to-package."

"Sohyun—"

"Oppa, i'm telling the truth, the flowers? the sketch—"

"Sohyun-ah," Sunghoon said, peeking over her and she rolled her eyes. "Fine!" She squeezed Jisung's hand once before letting go. "I'm just saying, for the record." Jisung looked out the window and smiled softly. "I know,"

And then the car slowed, the venue gates coming into view through their window, the hotel's grand entrance, dressed and ready, the florist's van just pulling away from the curb. December light, bright and soft, making everything look quieter than it was.

"We've arrived." Their driver said, his voice coming in through muffled politely by the divider. The three siblings didn't move for a moment.

Then Sunghoon straightened his jacked, Sohyun checked her earrings and her makeup and Jisung looked at the gate.

"Okay," Jisung said, more to himself mostly. To the hotel gates, to the arch somewhere beyond it with the ranunculus exactly where Sungchan's sketch had said.

"Okay? Okay." Sohyun echoed much softer.

Sunghoon reached forward and lowered the divider. The driver came around and opened the door, and the December air came in cold and clean and the three siblings stepped out into it together—one last time, just the three of them and before everything that came next.

Jisung was already shaking.

Not visibly—or at least he hoped not visibly, he was doing everything in his power to keep it contained to his hands and the slight unsteadiness behind his knees. His heartbeat had taken over somewhere around the moment his stylist made the last adjustment to his hair and stepped back, mumbling perfect as she pocketed the comb, and suddenly there was nothing to do, there was nothing left to focus on except the fact that this—was happening.

This was actually happening.

He was holding the ranunculus with both hands, white against the white of his tuxedo, the small cluster of them that he'd asked to carry instead of a standard boutonniere, and well, because it was their flower and he wanted it in his hands and well also because he could not keep his hands to himself.

His shoes were white, his tuxedo was white and he felt, standing in the antechamber of his family's hotel garden, like something that had been prepared very carefully for a specific purpose.

He also felt like he might pass out which is a big no no and it would be less elegant.

"You're doing great, sweetie." His Mom said, she was beside him, fanning him with the small holding fan she'd produced from her clutch like she'd know he'd need it, which she had, because apparently, she always knew.

"I'm so proud of you for doing this, Sung-ah." His Dad said next and he just nodded. He wasn't fully understanding the language and what was happening, any word what arrived he understood them in abstract—proud, doing great, Jisung, Jisung-ah—but they just passed through him without fully landing because the only thing his body was tracking and hearing was his own heartbeat.

His Dad chuckled beside him, the warm specific chuckle that Jisung was hearing his whole life. He briefly put a hand on Jisung's shoulder, comfortably squeezing it and said nothing because that was how his Dad loved; through gestures, through his presence and in the chuckle that didn't need words attached.

The doors were ahead of them, the music was already starting, the entourage was already walking and something—the music probably was playing something low and strings that Ms. Oh had coordinated, that Jisung approved in one of his alone sessions—that he forgot about, he could barely remember anything at this point.

But the song was familiar, it was playing through the garden where exactly 50 guests were seated in wooden cross-back chairs and a small boy in a miniature suit was holding a ring pillow with great solemnity.

"Ready, baby?" His Dad asked, already holding him by his arm. He just looked at the doors as his heart beats very loud. "Ready," he said, his voice came out steadier then he expected which was enough.

The doors opened and the garden hit him all at once. The light, the December afternoon sunlight, but the ceremony space was sheltered by the trees, the canopy of bare branches filtered everything into something soft and diffusing, and the ranunculus on the pedestals glowed against it, white and luminous, exactly where the sketch said they'd be.

Then the people—just fifty, turned around, the collective movement of their heads, the faces of people he'd known his whole life and the new addition of Sungchan's side assembled in rows to watch him walk.

Then the arch, it greeted him exactly the way how Sungchan's sketch greeted him back in the patisserie: circular, white and green, still between two trees at the end of the aisle, and the shadow falling left—just like the sketch.

And at the end of it all, there was Sungchan.

Jisung found him the way he always did, automatically, and without meaning to, the way he acts like a familiar landmark. He was tall, his suit made him tall, standing still at the middle of the aisle in a suit that was dark against all ivory and sage of the garden, and with Jisung's white suit.

He was looking at Jisung with the full quiet attention that Jisung had been learning to read across more than five sessions, and several car rides. Jisung's parents began to walk, and he walked with them. The ranunculus in both hands, his heartbeat still loud, and he counted the pedestals as they passed because it gave him something to do.

And when they reached he middle, Sungchan moved, finally stepping forward, walking towards Jisung and his parents. His Mom made a soft sound beside him, his Dad's hand still on his arm and Sungchan stopped just in front of them.

Up close, in the December afternoon, without a coordinator's table, or a car console. or a dinner full with their parents between them, he looked very present. He was indeed very present and very there.

His eyes had found Jisung's and stayed, he then reached out, offering his hand in the process and Jisung looked at it, at Sungchan's hand and then his face. That full quiet attention and then he placed his hand in Sungchan's

Sungchan's fingers closed around his—and it was cold, very cold, and then they turned around together, walking towards the arch, Jisung's parents fell back to take their seats, and the garden held it's collective breath and let them walk.

There were the last few pedestals, and the last few steps.

Jisung's heartbeat was still loud as ever, but it had changed into something more different in the way of something that had found a different rhythm—and then they reached the arch.

The officiant smiled at both of them—the warm professional smile of someone who had done this lots of times—and the ceremony began. The vows were, like most of the best things, it had been simpler than Jisung had expected.

He said the words: what he wanted to happen, what he was expecting to learn, to happen and Sungchan did his own fair share of words: how he wanted to know Jisung more, and probably less fighting, that everyone laughed to.

Sion, Jungwoo and Jaehyun's son, presented the ring pillow at the correct moment with the focused solemnity of someone who had rehearsed this, he walked forward with the careful deliberate steps, and held the pillow out with both hands and his chin very slightly lifted, the single ranunculus behind his ear gone sideways again.

Sungchan kneel down to reach Sion's height and smiled. "Good job, Sion-ah." He said to him quietly, taking the ring and Sion's expression did something enormous and private as his whole face beamed in the specific joy of a child being told by someone they admire that they did well.

He straightened, stepped back an turned to find Jaehyun in the front left for and located him immediately, because his Dad was the easiest person in any room to locate.

And then the ring was on Jisung's finger, and Jisung's ring was on Sungchan's.

The officiant was saying something—the closing words, the formal language of conclusion, and the sentence that was building towards the ending. Jisung was aware of it, the way you were aware of the weather peripherally, because most of his attention was on Sungchan's hand still in his, and the ranunculus somewhere in the vicinity of his own.

"—and so by the power vested in me," the officiant said, warm and clear, carrying the last tow. "I now pronounce you, husbands." The garden exhaled.

"You may now kiss the husband."

The silence lasted exactly one second, the garden holding everything it had held for the past hour—the vows, the rings, the Sungchan walking down the aisle towards Jisung, and Jisung putting his hand in Sungchan's and all seventeen years of almost knowing that had turned out to be something else entirely—and then Sungchan looked at him, the full quiet attention one last time and did what he always did.

He moved first, pulling Jisung by his waist and cupping his cheeks, no hesitation, just decided and acted on it, after cupping his cheeks, his hand came up to Jisung's jaw, careful and warm, tilting Jisung's face toward his, and Jisung—who had not imagined this to happen—let him.

It wasn't a long kiss, it was just a peck, and it wasn't dramatic. It was well, Sungchan, which meant it was quiet and deliberate. Sungchan pulled away and pushed Jisung's head over to his lips, giving him a much more longer forehead kiss.

And Jisung's eyes were closed the whole time.

He thought about nothing at all, which was the first time in four months that had happened, and it exactly lasted as long as it lasted, and when it ended, the garden came back—the light, the people and the applause.

Sohyun's sound cut through all of it: not a sob and not quite a cheer, it was just thoroughly Sohyun, the same sound from every important moment in their shared life. Sunghoon was beside her, clapping his eyes doing something he wasn't bothering to hide.

Jungwoo had his face briefly in Jaehyun's shoulders, ready, of course and from the front row, in a voice that carried with perfect clarity over the applause.

"Dad, they kissed." Sion announced, tugging Jaehyun's sleeve. "Daddy they kissed." He repeated and Jaehyun picked him up, kissing his cheek in the process.

"I saw, baby." Jaehyun said, his voice steady and calm. "Was it good?" Sion asked with genuine academic curiosity.

The laughter that moved through the garden was warm—cold December air and warm sound, and something completely unstoppable

Jisung looked at Sungchan who was still looking at him. The corner of his mouth was doing the thing—completing, he was actually smiling this time. Except this time, it stayed.

The smile finished and stayed, quiet and real and just for Jisung, in the December garden between the trees, with the shadow falling perfectly in the arch, the ranunculus in his hands, in the location and of course, the ivory and the sage.

And Jisung thought: 'it's going to be like this for a long time.'

but it's going to be okay, because at the end of the day, he will be looking at Sungchan, and Sungchan will obviously look back at him, not saying anything because they didn't need to yet.

But because there were things that were allowed to exist in silence first before they were put into words, his thesis already knew that.

And with Sungchan's help, he was starting to know it as well.