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1.
This is nice, Suho thinks absently.
He looks around the garden and then at another patient playing with a child by the withering rose bushes. Sunlight is hitting him at just the right temperature— the most he's seen in a long time.
The footsteps are getting closer, faster. A thrill shoots up his spine; he knows who they belong to. His heartbeat picks up.
Step, thump, step, thump.
Sole grates the gravel with loud friction and there's an abrupt stop. Anticipation boils over angrily, toppling the lid over Suho's patience. He turns his head.
And Sieun is right… there. Panting, in an unfamiliar blue uniform with unfamiliar people behind him. They take in each other's sights for what feels like eternity, but to Suho nothing else matters now. It's obvious he's fine, healthy, but before anything else, he really needs to know from Sieun himself—
“You been alright?”
Sieun answers with a shaky nod.
—
Doctors flit in and out of his room, fuss over him, ask questions, run more tests than Suho's muddled mind can count. No matter how hard he tries he cannot move his legs, can barely lift an arm. It feels like thick cotton has been lodged in his throat, grating crust in his eyes.
Suho does not remember how he got here. Not for a good while.
His name, his grandmother, where he lives, goes to school— they all come back to him in chunks while he gets assessed. Almost everything except how he got here. Beomseok and Yeongi. Sieun. Dreams of a boxing ring. Hot flashes that leave him with a throbbing head and bitter bile in his throat.
The doctors say it's a miracle, but frustration from being so utterly incapable of controlling his own body makes it feel like anything but.
—
“Who are those guys behind you?”
“My friends,” Sieun says breathlessly.
“That's awesome.”
Slowly, a wet smile blooms on Sieun’s face.
—
“Your halmeoni said she will make it in an hour dear,” The nurse says as she gets Suho into a fresh set of thin hospital clothes. At the mention of his grandmother, he lights up. “I'm sure you missed her. She sure did too.”
He nods his agreement, avoids the exertion from speaking. Answering the doctors one word at a time exhausted him.
Suho gets moved into a wheelchair and pushed outside. He turns to look at the nurse curiously.
“We're going outside for a little fresh air, you haven't had any in so long,” She explains. “Do you mind?”
Suho shakes his head slowly, very slightly.
“I believe there's someone else on his way to see you too,” She says, excited.
—
Sieun skips school an entire week after their reunion. The staff seem familiar with him, so he mostly gets away with staying past visiting hours. Manages to sleep over twice, even though that's technically something only his grandmother is allowed.
Naturally, she stays and insists on helping Suho where she can. It makes him feel like a child all over again, reminds him of how she'd feed him and gently wipe the snotty crust off his face when he had the flu. Now, she pats his hand while he does a daily mobility test, lifts his blanket up to his chin. His body can't regulate its own temperature just yet.
Sieun doesn’t mind pushing him around in his wheelchair either, all the way to the hospital garden where they sit and talk while time stretches and slows, just for them. Suho gets snippets of Sieun’s new friends and school, about how they somehow got into an entire brawl with gangsters. Suho relays some of his own stories, of the strange images his mind conjured. Weird, blurry figures and colours. Not exactly dreams.
Voices shaped around his name, void, beeping. Faded lines between reality and unconsciousness. Never as interesting as Sieun's stories, but Sieun always listens, almost intensely. When Suho asks about what happened a bit further back Sieun clams up.
It's fine though, it's fine. Suho does not expect to know everything yet. God knows what pushed him out of Byuksan or what kind of people he encountered along the way. But Suho is certain it all started because of him. Guilt crushes his windpipe. Weighed with his self titled, failed role as Sieun’s guardian angel. What started off as a joke, a silly offhanded thing he tossed out before dodging a chair.
He realised soon after, it never really was a joke, that he'd do anything for the boy in front of him. The boy in question is doing chemistry homework on the table they're seated at in the hospital's cafeteria. Gimbap lies untouched next to his pencils.
“When are you going back to school?” He asks.
Sieun looks up and hums thoughtfully. “Soon.”
Suho uses a trembling hand to take the pen out of Sieun's hand. “You've been skipping for too long because of me.”
“So what?” Sieun dismisses. “The teachers barely keep track of seniors at school.”
Everything Suho hears about Sieun’s new school is questionable at best, this new information does nothing to stop the alarms in his head.
“If you're worried about me being alone I have halmeoni with me,” Suho presses. “I don't want to be the reason your grades slip. I don't want them to slip at all.”
Sieun lets out a heavy breath. “It's not that serious.”
“Is it? Since when do you not care so much?”
An irritated look crosses Sieun’s face for a split second. “As long as I perform it's fine,” He grits out. “Which I'm doing.”
Suho gingerly puts the pen down— drops it— with a tiny clack. “At least go see your friends.”
Sieun shrugs. The conversation ends there. But he listens anyway, takes time for himself and school afterwards. And Suho misses all the proximity, though Sieun still drops by daily. He keeps this to himself.
Sieun sees him during afternoon visiting hours, so the frequency of their strolls dwindles down to nothing. They stay in his hospital room instead— large, with a foldable couch to sleep on and enough space for all the machines Suho is kept on while he sleeps.
Most of their time together, often with halmeoni, is spent watching TV (Suho watches— Sieun usually has his nose in a textbook).
Some old show is currently playing, keeps him passively engaged with its simplicity. His grandmother dozes on the couch. An ad break comes on suddenly, of a UFC match broadcasting live later that evening. Suho sighs, longing.
Sieun notices. Of course he does. He pointedly skips the sports channel when he changes the TV for Suho. An itch creeps under his spine; he cannot reach it.
—
Suho usually can't hold anything more than a short conversation. Expected, normal, everyone tells him, he knows, he's living it day in day out. It makes him want to rip the hair out of his scalp, too weak to do so anyway. His body feels like a prison.
It's been a couple weeks since he woke up, hard to really keep track. Easier to forget small details, to repeat himself and ask the same of everyone around him.
During the most difficult therapy sessions that leave him drenched in sweat and frustration, he looks to the side where Sieun and his grandmother sit. He sees the hope and encouragement in her eyes, the focus on Sieun’s face and the books he's put aside.
The metal bars keeping Suho upright have gone warm underneath his palms. Things won't be exactly the same, but maybe it could be worse. At the very least, he's not alone.
2.
Sieun and his friends make it through the rest of high school without a hitch while Suho gathers his life and body once more. Sooner than anyone expects, graduation rolls around.
The ceremony nearly puts Suho to sleep, but when Sieun and a few other nerds are called up to collect academic awards he cheers louder than everyone, side-eyes be damned.
Sieun's parents are nowhere to be found, and it bothers Suho more than it does Sieun, who seems wholly unaffected.
When the ceremony ends, Suho makes sure to see his grandmother off while everyone else takes pictures with their family and friends. The air is charged with emotion, with all the good and bad things that come with twelve years of school. He can't help but think back to Byuksan and all its woes.
A tug at his sleeve breaks him out of his trance. “Let's go.”
They start walking over to where Hyuntak and Juntae are waiting. Humin is off to the side with a cocky grin on his face and two suckers in a headlock. Popular guy, but Suho can tell he has a good heart. His cane grazes Sieun’s sneaker.
“Did halmeoni already leave?”
“Called her a taxi just now,” Suho replies. And then a little sadly, “I should've gotten you some flowers for today.”
Their little group starts making its way out of the school gates. Ahead of them Humin has his arm wrapped around a stumbling Juntae's shoulders while Hyuntak shoves and hurls insults at him.
There's underlying tension there that Suho is yet to unpack, but not before he figures out how the hell he should deal with his own massive crush.
“It's fine, but thank you,” Sieun replies at the same time Humin yells with a fist in the air, “Let’s go to Sieunnie's place to celebrate!”
Suho’s eyebrows raise almost all the way to his hairline.
Sieun must have been hanging out with them often, filling up his shell of a home and making memories Suho is not a part of. Missed out on. He imagines Sieun warming up, blooming while Suho was rotting away on a hospital bed. As much as they're still in tune with each other, Suho hates that Sieun spent so much time without him. He would've liked to watch Sieun grow during those eighteen months.
Earth never stops spinning. Suho would've liked to grow too.
“They begged me to come over for weeks. It got very annoying,” Sieun grumbles suddenly. Pink dusts his cheeks for some reason, just slightly.
“Does it happen often?” Suho asks despite himself. Pushes past the stab of guilt from giving in to such senseless tendrils of envy.
“It’s the first time I'll have people over,” Sieun says meekly. Oh, yikes. Suho feels terrible now. “But we can have them do it elsewhere if you don't want, sorry for not telling you earlier.”
Suho waves a hand dismissively. “What? No, it's completely fine with me. I'm cool with your friends— it's your place after all.”
Sieun nods. They keep trailing behind the others silently.
Suho wonders for a moment why Sieun seemed so unnecessarily apologetic. Did his jealousy somehow seep out? He assumed they'd be spending the evening together as usual, maybe at Suho's. Sieun made no indication to have him think otherwise. Did he want them to celebrate alone? Could that be it—?
There's no way. He’s overthinking this.
Huh. Suho glances at Sieun, who's focused on the road ahead. He steps behind Suho before a pole cuts between them.
Doesn't matter, Suho figures.
What should be a twenty minute walk turns into an hour-long trip because of a detour to the convenience store. The whole affair is borderline disastrous, they come out with snacks that could feed two dozen people and not five.
Suho grabs a small peach bouquet off to the side, all alone and in good shape. He hands it to Sieun.
“For you,” he says. Real smooth.
“Love is in the air!” Humin sing-songs.
Suho feels pure, concentrated heat on his ears. Fuck. He forgot about these guys. The quiet glimmer in Sieun’s eyes and giggles from his friends fuel the embarrassment.
What a weird bunch.
“I think it's cute,” Juntae pipes up helpfully. “Sieun-ah got a gift for his hard work.”
“Yeah right,” Hyuntak scoffs. “It's not just about scho—”
“Thank you Suho-yah,” Sieun cuts in softly. He looks up at him from the flowers, grazes the petals with careful fingers.
Suho ignores the scandalous gasps and wills any redness on his face away.
Three pairs of pleading eyes and a venomous warning against destruction later, they're seated on the floor in Sieun's small, no longer vacant living room. A large spread decorates the table. Suho snaps a picture. He's taking up the couch with Sieun for his leg's sake.
As far as everything else goes, the gathering is pleasant. It's with decent company.
Humin lifts up a can of Milkis and loudly cheers around a mouthful of food, “To adulting and finishing high school!”
“You got finished by school you fucking dumbass,” Hyuntak says, startling an offended squawk out of Humin. Juntae and Suho raise their drinks indulgently.
“At least it’s over,” Suho says. He leans forward and clinks his glass with Humin’s then nudges Sieun with his shoulder. “Props to this guy.”
Hyuntak laughs, “For being a nerd?”
“Exactly,” Suho replies, smug. Sieun glares behind his cup.
Juntae starts scolding Humin and Hyuntak for the mess they’re making and spills a bag of chips in the process. His face turns red.
The whole group bursts into loud, obnoxious laughter and finally, Sieun joins them quietly. Suho’s thigh knocks against his. Sieun leans into it. Lets warmth soak into the space where their skin is separated by fabric. The place is livelier than it’s probably ever been.
3.
“We should move in together.”
Suho instantly stops scooping up a greedy amount of rice. “What?”
“You and me. I want us to live together,” Sieun repeats, unfazed by the mental warfare brewing in Suho’s head. He says it like he’s commenting on the temperature outside and not actively tugging on Suho’s heartstrings.
“Uh, you wanna cut costs?” Suho asks tentatively. He flips the meat over on the grill one last time and plops a piece that looks ready onto Sieun’s plate.
Sieun shakes his head. “Money’s not a problem.”
“So…?”
“I want us to be closer,” Sieun explains. He’s picking at his kimchi with chopsticks now, which means he’s definitely thinking hard about something. “I thought maybe instead of being placed at a dorm in university I could live somewhere near campus with you.”
I want us to be closer. The words echo and ring in Suho's skull like a bell on Sunday.
Sieun needs to stop casually saying stuff like this if he doesn't want his best friend falling in love with him. Although it's probably a little too late for that.
Suho looks up at the greasy smoke-worn ceiling and then at Sieun, who has his head tilted expectedly. He's making a whole show of thinking, honestly, but his answer was yes the moment the suggestion left Sieun’s lips.
“Be my guest,” Suho says instead.
Sieun makes a weird little sound, as good of a chuckle as Suho will get from him. “I think you mean roommate.”
Suho actually laughs out loud at that. “God, I didn't know you had jokes in you.”
He decides he'll freak out about all the implications of this conversation in the darkness of his room later on. For now, he shoves the abandoned spoon of rice into his mouth.
The rest of their meat ends up burning.
—
Juggling a job search and apartment hunting simultaneously while attending physical therapy daily proves to be the ultimate test. A fraction of his previous balance of work and school. Back then however, he had impulsive idiots with dubiously loyal girlfriends to take his stress out on.
It's mostly him and his thoughts now. He was given the green light for non-intensive labour by his doctors some time ago, and after battling Sieun’s stubborn refusal, finally began his job search.
Halmeoni also seemed hesitant when he first suggested it, but she was far weaker to Suho's pleading eyes than Sieun had been.
It takes some time to figure out the logistics and even longer to make a shortlist of places around Seoul that they like most.
But somewhere between preparing for the next phase in his life, their frequent visits and hushed conversations— trailing into plans about the future— Suho's body slowly regains proper strength. One day and one grueling physical therapy session at a time. Problem is, he falls right in love even faster.
It's not my fault, he thinks petulantly. Maybe he's always been in love.
He turns his head a little to get a better look at Sieun's face in the room’s darkness, fast asleep and peaceful. He does that a lot, lately. Looking at Sieun. Sharing Suho's bed, barely big enough for both of them, has been a no-brainer since the first sleepover.
Sieun just looks so perfectly at home, softly snoring, serene.
They always wake up and eat together before lazing around or going out for fresh air. Something like a practice run for their own apartment.
And even now, here in the quiet of Suho's home, Sieun's presence fits like a glove.
Some mix of a sneeze and a snore startles Suho out of his thoughts, a sound so unlike Sieun he has to stifle his own ugly snort. He snuggles deeper into his pillow. Everything smells like Sieun. It's dizzying.
Yes, Ahn Suho must be in love. Gradual realisation for a headfirst feeling, a drop of water rolling down a cold cup. The barking dogs outside seem to agree with him. He sighs quietly, takes one last look at the centre of his reshaping world and lets his eyes slip shut.
4.
Sieun cooks. Delicious meals for that matter. He thinks halmeoni might be part of the reason he started, she asked Sieun to help in the kitchen so much during the most intense part of Suho's recovery. When Sieun was really glued to his hip, like a worried hen.
Since moving in together, Sieun pushes himself off his and Suho's couch sometimes with rolled sleeves and a determined fire in his eyes. Everything about him is so cute. The Chef Sieun face, Suho calls it.
(“You had a three hour practical just now Sieun-ah. Please just let me cook for us. I need you to rest.”
“And you had an eight hour shift at the bookstore.”
“But I wasn’t even doing much—”
“No.”
“At least let me make the ric—”
“No. I… I want to do it myself. For you.”
Suho stops breathing, coughs. He settles for washing dishes instead.)
So, an adorable lunchbox is placed in front of Suho right as he’s about to head out for work. It sits innocently next to his phone and keys (held together by a red keyholder matching with Sieun’s that has ‘Lock and Rock!’ written on it in bold— Suho’s idea, obviously) on the counter.
It shouldn’t be anything unusual, really. They make each other lunch all the time whenever they can. However this particular one, like all the others these past three or so weeks, has heart shaped spam placed neatly on top. And a heart shaped egg to finish it off. Jesus, where’d Sieun even get the time?
“Sieun-ah…” Suho croaks. There’s the very real threat of tears making his waterline sting, and the last thing he wants is to worry Sieun on such a wonderful sunny day. Without thinking, Suho dives in for a hug instead. That should hide his singular tear drop.
He wraps his arms around Sieun tightly and adjusts his head until it’s buried in the crook of Sieun’s neck which, by the way, smells nice. Really nice. Does he put on a perfume of sorts? No, Suho realises. It’s all Sieun, au naturel. He’s so perfect.
“What’s this for?”
“Your wonderful lunches.”
“I like making them for you. Though I do think yours are still tastier than mine.”
The conversation actually comes out entirely muffled by their shoulders. Suho ignores the mouthful of lavender scented cotton and tightens his arms around Sieun’s pleasantly relaxed body. He usually avoids physical touch like the plague, so Suho takes this opportunity of contact and runs with it while he can— like any sane person would.
“I could kiss you, like, right now,” Suho blurts out, and instantly regrets because shit, that can’t be a good look for him. He’s not ready to confess yet! In their crammed kitchen on a Monday morning at that!
Sieun tenses, starts moving within the hold formed around him like he’s trying to shimmy out, and Suho lets go in an instant. His insides turn to ice because he knows, yeah, he definitely fucked up and Sieun’s never ever going to talk to him again—
“Suho-yah.” Sieun sounds gravely serious.
The frantic thoughts in Suho’s head stop as the urge to get swallowed by the ground beneath him increases by the second. He’s about to apologise and backtrack, justify his words somehow—
But a pair of plump textured lips graze his cheek instead.
What the fuck?
Head empty, Suho stares dumbly at Sieun, who gently places the lunchbox in his hands.
“You're welcome,” Sieun says, light and sweet and utterly ignorant of his disastrous effect on Suho. “The lid for it is behind the kettle.”
5.
The dog days of summer press in with unforgiving warmth and humidity, wearing Suho's patience thin as they drag on. Headaches come too often, which in turn weaken his whole body. It's embarrassing when a spell hits during one of his shifts, no matter how nice the bookstore owner Mrs. Hwang is about it.
A dusty, stuffy storeroom is hardly an excuse for getting dizzy to the point of near-collapse while carrying boxes with a measly ten books inside.
But now, sitting on the balcony connected to Suho's room in shorts and big t-shirts without a care in the world, it feels like true escape.
Twin popsicles sit in Sieun and Suho’s hands, a futile remedy for the sweltering heat.
Few stars are visibly twinkling but the cloudless sky still makes for a nice view with the moon out, which Sieun has had his gaze on for a while now.
“What are you thinking about?” Suho asks.
A car honks in the distance.
“Nothing important.”
Suho bites the last of his popsicle off the hard stick, a massive chunk. Sieun grimaces slightly at the crunch. Suho licks his lips once, twice, and asks again, “What?”
Sieun raises a judgmental eyebrow. “That's not good for your teeth."
“Well, it's my teeth and I'll treat them however I like.”
“Whatever,” Sieun huffs. He goes back to his listless gazing.
Suho glances at the untouched popsicle in his hand. “You gonna eat that or what?”
“Eventually,” Sieun says. Just then, a lone, fat drop of orange liquid rolls down his thumb.
Suho watches as it continues until it stops right above Sieun's elbow. “It's literally melting.”
Sieun blows air out of his nose, takes an aggressive bite out of the tip. He lifts his arm slightly to lick at the liquid on his wrist, and— woah. His eyes never leave Suho’s as he does that.
“Are you happy now?” Sieun deadpans.
Suho blinks away the haze of heat. “D-didn't you say biting is bad for your teeth?”
“I did,” Sieun says. He holds the popsicle out to Suho. “You can have the rest.”
“Thank you,” Suho sing-songs cheerfully. He finishes the popsicle off in three hefty bites, far quicker than necessary. Feels compelled to, just because.
Sieun looks Suho up and down, unimpressed. Then he grabs Suho's wrist, plucks the wet stick right out of his hand and places it on the armrest between them. “You're so greedy.”
Suho barely restrains the urge to freeze. He'd hate to scare Sieun off when he gets like this. Touchy on rare occasions like this one. Sieun's hold on his wrist loosens until just the circle of his fingers lingers.
“It's hot,” Suho says lamely.
“It's good that you still eat like a maniac,” Sieun says.
Suho inhales a quiet, stuttered breath. “That's what this is about?”
“I just think… you're growing into yourself again.” Sieun’s voice drops a little. His eyes hold entire fucking constellations and he won't stop looking at Suho with them. “Not that you've stopped being you. Your body's just—”
The cut-off fuels the adrenaline in Suho’s veins, rouses lust. There's pure intent in Sieun's words. No way Suho’s overthinking it. Probably.
He leans into the shy touch.
“Yeah?” Suho says, presses. Face flaming. “What about my body?”
Damp fingers dance lightly across the shadows on his bicep now, leaving a trail of goosebumps and fire in their wake. Sieun is quietly fixated on the action, like he's studying the skin, penetrating each layer one by one with his eyes.
It's oddly intimate. Suho continues watching.
“I like it,” Sieun replies simply. “In any way.”
“Been meaning to finally hit the gym again, I miss being strong,” Suho confesses. “Can't have a weak guardian now can you?”
“That would be nice,” Sieun says as his hand continues its miniature voyage across Suho's skin. Then a palm lands flat on his chest, right where Suho's fast-beating heart sits beneath. “But don't ever doubt that you look good even now. You're already strong in many ways, hyung.”
Suho is about to fucking combust. He grips Sieun's wrist where it hovers above his chest, like how Sieun did earlier. He wants to link their fingers so, so badly. He wants to do more than that.
“I didn't know you felt that way,” Suho says, almost a whisper.
“And now you do.”
A moth zips past the shrinking space between their faces, effectively pulling Suho out of Sieun-Planet and back to earth.
He expects Sieun to maybe come to his senses, pull his hand away as if burnt, but all he does is retract it slowly. His fingertips leave red-hot brands on the worn cotton of Suho's t-shirt, eye contact never ceasing.
The surging charge in the air around them is carried away by a light breeze. Suho and Sieun don't speak about it again.
+1
Saturdays are reserved for grocery runs. Arguably one of Suho’s favourite parts of the week because sometimes he gets to watch Sieun compare two of the exact same products for several minutes with a little furrow in his brow (the Critic Sieun face). It's the perfect opportunity to stare unabashedly at Sieun because then he can play it off as boredom or detached curiosity.
Like now, for instance. Sieun lifts two tubs of gochujang and asks, “Which one?”
“Any of the two is fine with me,” Suho replies honestly. There's literally no difference.
“That's not a useful answer,” Sieun deadpans.
Suho points at the glossy tub in his left hand. “That one then.”
Sieun squints at it some more and finally, after nodding to himself, places it in the trolley Suho had dutifully offered to push. It helps put some weight off his legs too, which he's quite grateful for.
They continue scanning each aisle for all the things needed in their empty kitchen. The problem starts when he sees two girls eye him and Sieun over and over again. They keep cupping each other's ears to whisper and giggle.
Suho observes them warily. Sieun keeps analysing grapes obliviously. When one of the girls approaches Suho moves a little closer to Sieun, almost protective. He gets a curious glance from Sieun in return.
“Hi!” She greets. She has her long hair tied up in a ponytail and a streak dyed red starting from her hairline. Black skirt with a white top and a tiny red purse in hand. Definitely around their age. She's pretty, smells like a field of flowers.
“I've been seeing you around the area for a while now,” She says warmly and bows. “My name is Ha Minji.”
Suho bows back, light. “Ahn Suho.”
Something heavy is dumped into the trolley. It jostles him slightly where his arm is leaning. “Suho-yah?”
Minji waves at Sieun. “Hello!”
Sieun stiffly nods his head once in acknowledgment. Suho glances at him nervously.
“I hope you guys aren't in a rush or anything,” Minji says. She reaches into her purse for a phone. “But this will be quick. Suho-ssi, I think you're really cute. I'd like us to get to know each other better.”
This is so awkward. Well. “I'm flattered, but—”
“Suho-yah and I are already a couple,” Sieun interrupts. Everything stands still.
Minji's eyes go wide. Suho's shock paralyzes him, pinpoints his focus to Sieun, who— what, is he frowning? Did Suho even hear him right?
He tries his best to put on an Are you serious?? face. All Sieun does is shift impossibly closer to Suho's side.
“Oh, you're his boyfriend?” Minji asks slowly.
“Yes, we're dating,” Sieun says sternly. As if to make sure his point goes across, he hooks his and Suho's arms together. “He's my boyfriend.”
So maybe Suho does not know where this is going in the slightest. He’s starting to feel dizzy. Did he take his medication earlier?
Minji's expression falls. “Oh, okay then. Sorry for intruding.”
Sieun's hold around him tightens. The ground beneath Suho vanishes. Boyfriend. Boyfriend. What is going on?
Boyfriendboyfriendboyfriend.
It can't be. There's no way Sieun means that. Why is it turning Suho's head into static mush? Why is his arm scorching?
Nothingness starts bleeding into the edge of Suho’s vision and the colourful fruit display swirls with the rest of the world around him.
Before he can process the hand shaking him, the concerned faces, the rising panic in whatever the hell Sieun is saying, everything goes black.
—
“—will be fine. He is still a little vulnerable to things like intense emotion or stress.”
A muffled sniffle. “Really?”
“Emotional dysregulation in recovering head trauma patients, yes. But all his vitals are perfectly norm—”
Suho is pulled back into full consciousness, the thickest part of the fog in his head clears. His eyes peel open.
It’s blurry still, but Suho could recognise a hospital anywhere.
“Suho-yah…”
Turquoise scrubs to his right. Beeping heart monitor behind him. Ah, Sieun’s voice. To his left. He sounds— shit, was he crying? Why? No, that’s not right. His head is throbbing slightly in the middle, he’s on a hard white hospital bed, Sieun is sitting on a chair next to it and he—
Oh god. The memories slam into him like a brick wall.
Suho fainted in their local grocery store, in front of at least ten other people. Yeon Sieun called Suho his boyfriend. He’s confused, mortified even further beyond belief, and the swirl of emotion must have contorted onto his face because Sieun quickly takes Suho’s hand in his and rubs small circles over the knuckles.
“Are you okay?” Sieun asks. The blur in Suho’s vision is slowly fading as well. He can clearly see the red rimming Sieun’s eyes. Because he decided to fucking faint out of nowhere. “Halmeoni said she's on her way.”
“You called me your boyfriend,” Suho accuses.
Sieun's face goes red. “Well, yes? I—”
“Sieun-ah,” Suho interrupts. None of it makes sense. He can’t keep letting Sieun feel obligated to reciprocate his obvious crush. He needs to— to come clean, confess and apologise. So they can go back to how their friendship used to be without any of the misplaced affection. “Do you feel forced to do this? Are you playing with my feelings?”
Sieun lets go of their joined hands with a pained expression on his face.
“Uh, I’ll leave you kids to it then,” The doctor says. Has she been here the entire time? “Nurse Lee will be here in a few minutes to wrap things up.”
Neither of them answers her.
“Suho, what are you talking about?” Sieun asks softly. He looks so hurt right now and Suho’s instincts scream at him to backtrack, shut up and comfort him but somehow, but—
“You can't just… say things like that.” It's still a bit hard to move without causing the headache to flare, but he twists his body to face Sieun entirely, feet flat on the smooth floor. His voice is smaller as he continues, “We're not even dating.”
“So that's what you thought this was?” Sieun spits out. The venom is a little unexpected, especially now that it's directed towards Suho.
Startled, Suho asks, “Is it not?”
“Did you really think I'd do that just as friends?” Sieun says. “ Did—did the fall mess with your head somehow?”
Ouch.
At Suho's lack of response, Sieun lets out a heavy breath. He looks like he'd rather be anywhere else right now.
They stew in silence for an age.
Sieun breaks it first, shuffles his foot. “I meant everything I did.”
“You did?” Suho says quietly, hopefully. “All of it?”
Sieun averts his gaze. “I like you, so I thought showing it would make you feel the same.”
“Oh…”
“...You don’t like me?”
“What? No, no of course I do!” Suho rushes to say. “Sieun, I like you so much. I just couldn't believe you'd ever feel the same.”
“Well I do,” Sieun huffs. “And now we're here. I thought… I thought you'd leave me again, Suho-yah. I was so scared.”
Suho becomes acutely aware of the sterile room and beeping machines His heart squeezes painfully. “To be fair, you could've just confessed. I had— no, I have the fattest crush on you.”
“I wasn’t sure. Sorry for overwhelming you like that,” Sieun laments. He actually looks ashamed now, and that just won't do.
“No, it's my fault for being so stupid in the first place. I'm a bit embarrassed by it now.” Suho takes Sieun’s hand and places a light kiss on the veins decorating his inner wrist. “I liked the attention a lot. We were both so obvious.”
Sieun’s eyes follow the motion. He swallows quickly. “And oblivious.”
“That too,” Suho laughs. “So was it your jealousy that spoke back there?”
“For the most part,” Sieun sighs, laced with humiliation. That makes two of them. “I didn't know how to act.”
“Clearly not,” Suho jokes. “And what happened with those girls?”
“They're the ones who helped bring you here,” Sieun answers, eyes downcast.
“Ah, makes sense.” Minji probably regrets approaching him now because of the hassle. Suho is thankful for the help. And for indirectly resolving the stagnant, unavoidable mess of feelings lying between him and Sieun. Even though Suho already knows the answer he can't help but ask, “So now what?”
“You become my boyfriend,” Sieun says, certain. He laces their fingers together smoothly. Instead of turning Suho’s insides into an ice slush again, the title settles like warm, fresh cotton candy in his chest. Its clinical and unromantic delivery flies past his head.
Suho loves the boy in front of him so much. One day he'll swallow past the lump of fear and say it out loud.
Suho smiles. “Come sit next to me then.”
At the request, Sieun's eyebrows scrunch up in confusion but he does it anyway.
“What are you—” The rest of the sentence does not leave his lips, because Suho's mouth is on his in an instant, and it's the most perfect thing in the world. A whine climbs up Suho's throat, he does nothing to squash it down. This is the best goddamn moment of his life.
Pain forgotten, he shifts so that his forearms rest on either side of Sieun's head as he kisses him within an inch of his life.
Sieun parts his lips on a stuttered breath, allowing Suho to slip his tongue into his mouth. Both of them moan at the velvety sensation, a heady mix of tongue and spit and obscene smacking.
Suho can't bring himself to open his eyes even as he trails kisses across Sieun's cheek, down to his chin and jaw and finally down to the neck. Sieun is trembling and whimpering softly beneath the onslaught of affection— Suho would do it until all the water in the ocean dries if it means getting to hear those pretty sounds leave his prettier lips.
Emboldened, Suho licks the golden skin above Sieun's collarbone and grazes his teeth ever so slightly against it.
“Ah, ah, Suho—” Sieun taps his shoulder several times and Suho gets the signal to stop. He pulls away reluctantly.
Heart beating at a million miles an hour, Suho pants, “What?”
“We should, uh, we should do this at home,” Sieun says. His face is flushed all the way down to the neck where his collar has been roughly pulled aside. He's panting heavily like Suho is, sucking in all the air he can. Suho's urge to have them do all sorts of things right there on the hospital bed spikes. But he's right. Didn't the doctor say Nurse Lee is on her way?
They hastily fix themselves— then each other— and end up sitting side by side on the bed again, thighs pressed firmly together.
Suho stares until a beautiful smile slowly grows on Sieun's face. It's the same one he had all those years ago while Suho held a steaming container of ox-bone soup in his lap.
One of the handful of memories sitting crystal clear in his brain. Their fates must have intertwined on that very day.
“I really do like you,” Suho says reverently. “I also like when you smile.”
“I like you too,” Sieun says. Rose graces his cheeks. “It's just ridiculous how you fainted after I called you my boyfriend.”
Suho hisses dramatically. “Aish, my head totally still hurts because of that. One more kiss to soothe me? Just a small one.”
He cups Sieun's jaw with a warm hand, gets close enough that they're exchanging the same breaths.
Sieun rolls his eyes and leans in. They peck lips over and over, and Suho knows for sure that this feeling will remain his favourite in the world for a very long time.
cut-outs:
[ “Should we tell the doctors that I actually forgot to take some of my meds this morning?”
“You did what?”
“You know I'm forgetful!”
“I lay them out for you everyday so you don't forget.”
“You were rushing me to the store.”
“Suho, the pills were right there.”
“Ah, we're fucked.” ]
—
[ Nurse Lee arrives. She stares them down with nothing but suspicion and some judgment. Suho is completely unfazed by the scrutiny, and he doesn’t miss the embarrassed cough that Sieun lets out. Fifteen minutes later— after a stern warning against 'getting frisky' on hospital property— Suho leaves the hospital with a short prescription list in one hand and Sieun's hand clasped tightly in the other. ]