Work Text:
woah 언제나 그랬듯이
as always
단숨에 널 알아볼 거야
I’ll recognize you in a single breath
when we go back to strangers
Sieun wakes with a start. Immediately, he’s in fight or flight mode, straightening up in his seat to stare forward with his bloodshot eyes. His classmates eye him warily, but there’s not too many people around during this break. His friends have gone to the vending machines. Sieun’s back screams at him, as it always does when he goes from slumped over at his desk to wide awake, body braced for a fight in an instant. He’s learned to ignore it.
Aish, your posture is as terrible as ever, Sieunie, Suho scolds in his mind. Sieun’s heart is beating erratically as Suho’s voice rings in his mind.
Suho. Suho? Something happened to him. Sieun can feel it in his chest, the way it caves in like a brutal punch—in room 3203 of Sungang University Hospital, something happened to patient Ahn Suho.
On the desk, Sieun’s phone begins to ring. Sieun’s hands are leaden, moving too slowly towards the phone. He picks it up and reads the caller ID: Sungang University Hospital.
Something happened to Suho.
The nurses know him. They let him through, forgoing the paperwork and the whole signing-in process when they see his face.
Sieun’s knees nearly buckle when he sees him. The world zeros in to just the two of them, Sieun staring with wide eyes and unshed tears, and Suho sitting upright just two meters away. Sieun steps closer, trying to see Suho through the mask. His eyes are lidded, mind probably hazy from waking up, and the reality of it hits Sieun with full force again. Suho is awake.
Suho’s eyes open wider, just slightly. When they meet Sieun’s, Suho’s mask begins to fog up. Sieun’s ears are attuned to that single sound, over the incessant beeping of the heartbeat monitor—all he can hear is the sound of Suho’s single, stuttered breath.
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
Sieun’s knees really do buckle then, and he feels a nurse lead him to the chair against the wall. Sieun’s eyes never leave Suho’s. It feels like both a millennium and two seconds, watching the nurses position Suho and take his vitals and do whatever it is they need to do to verify that Suho is awake, and stable. Like he exists outside of his body, Sieun comes back to himself when they move aside and his view of Suho is no longer obstructed.
Suho’s mouth moves agonizingly slowly. Sieun follows the movement with his eyes. The rest of Suho moves just as slowly, eyes and arms and head slowly but surely shifting, as if testing their ability to move at all. Sieun watches Suho look at the nurses. You must be so scared. Then, he glances beyond them, to where Sieun positioned himself to be in Suho’s line of vision.
“Suho-yah,” Sieun croaks. His mouth is dry.
Suho blinks. When he opens his mouth, Sieun holds his breath.
“Who are you?”
마치 만난 적도 없던 것처럼
as if we’ve never met before
서로를 마주하게 되면
when we face each other
다시 내 이름을 네게 건네고
I’ll give you my name again and
다가가는 법을 배울게
learn how to approach you
Who are you?
Sieun’s throat closes up. He feels a moistness on his cheek and realizes a tear fell from his waterline.
“Me?” Sieun points a shaky finger to himself. What is happening? This is so unlike Sieun. This is so unlike Suho, Sieun realizes with a horrifying start.
Suho nods, and winces like it hurt. Sieun wants to reach out, but he remains glued to his seat.
“I’m . . . Sieun. Sieunie.”
“Sieunie?”
No. This isn’t right. Suho’s tone of voice is all wrong, which sounds awful of Sieun to think because of course, he just woke up from a two year coma! But it’s not that. It’s the abject lack of warmth, so unfamiliar to Sieun who always heard his name spoken like a treasure in Suho’s voice.
“You don’t remember me?” Sieun doesn’t hear himself. That out-of-body feeling is back, the one where he feels like he’s watching himself through an omniscient perspective.
Suho’s nose scrunches up, and the sight of it makes another tear drop. It should be cute, but Suho looks like he’s in so much pain Sieun can’t comprehend anything other than rising panic.
“I don’t remember?” Suho repeats. His hands curl into loose fists in the blanket. Sieun, the root of this whole problem, watches as Suho twitches, arms and body beginning to shake as he stares down.
“Sieun, it would be best if you leave.” A nurse on his left, the kind one who lets him stay over visiting hours, says quietly. Her hand on his shoulder is gentle but firm. “We don’t want to agitate Suho and weaken his condition.”
A pause. “Yes,” Sieun whispers, hating how his voice trembles. He watches himself stand from the chair and walk to the door, moving at a snail’s pace as he keeps his eyes on Suho. His vision blurs—Sieun blinks rapidly, trying to see Suho clearly, but the tears are flowing now, hot and burning on Sieun’s cheeks as his lip wobbles.
Suho, devastatingly, frowns even harder. Sieun curses himself for being the cause of Suho’s distress. With great effort, Suho turns to the nurse at his bedside.
“Is he . . . why is he crying?”
Sieun can see it in the faces of the nurses in the room, the way they look between each other and Suho and Sieun, their pity becoming suffocatingly oppressive in the room. A firm voice whispers to Sieun, sharp.
“Sieun, please leave.”
Sharp as a knife and just as cruel, the speed that Sieun turns around and loses sight of Suho is stinging. The sound of the sliding hospital room door is deafening in the silent hallway. Sieun hardly hears it over his own stuttering breaths.
He doesn’t know how long he stands there, just that when the door slides open again, Sieun hasn’t moved a muscle. He glances over his shoulder, eyes wide and apprehensive. A nurse stares back at him.
“Sieun-ssi.” A kind smile. They’re sitting on the bench now. “As you saw earlier, Suho has woken up.”
“How is he?”
She must feel sorry for Sieun, with his rumpled school clothes and bloodshot eyes and twitching hands. The nurse dips her head slightly and says, “He is in stable condition now. As it stands, he appears to have some memory loss, which is to be expected after waking up from a coma like his.”
Sieun nods mutely, slowly. At least he’s awake. Sieun can’t be selfish, not again.
But, the voice in his mind chides, that’s not true, is it? If you were truly selfless, you wouldn’t be sitting here now. You’d have gone home and severed your ties now that Suho has gotten another chance at life and been blessed with the mercy of not knowing you.
His hands shake. Another voice, Juntae’s, pops into his mind. It’s not your fault, Sieun. He’d hate to hear Sieun’s internal dialogue now. He’d think it cruel, with his pure heart.
That doesn’t stop it from being right. Sieun is selfish.
“Can I—” Sieun sucks in a breath. He tries again. “He needs to relearn how to walk, right?” Sieun had researched this, scrolled through endless articles until his eyes burned and his arm felt deadened and his heart felt no less heavy.
“Yes. He’ll be starting physical therapy soon, once we’ve assessed him further. As he had a strong body before the coma, he may be able to bounce back quickly. We cannot guarantee anything, though.” The nurse’s tone is matter-of-fact.
Had. Sieun’s mind snags on that word.
“Then, regarding his mental state—”
“He doesn’t remember anything,” the nurse reiterates.
“Yes, but, um.” Sieun wills his voice not to waver. “Is memory loss his only brain damage? No internal functions have ceased?”
There’s a heavy pause. Finally, the nurse says, “It’s hard to be certain, Sieun-ssi. He just woke up, and we need to run more tests.”
“But,” Sieun breathes. He turns to face the nurse head-on, eyes pleading. “If it is the case, that it’s only memory loss, he’ll need to reintegrate into society, right? Get his GED, at least? I can tutor him. Please.” His words end softer than a sigh, but heavy with the desperation in his heart.
Sieun has stopped flinching at the nurse’s pity. She puts a hand on his—worn, but strong, and shaking, though whether it’s Sieun’s tremors or hers is a mystery—and her eyes soften. They’re tired.
She must feel sorry for him, because she doesn’t reject him immediately. The nurse opens her mouth, seeming to fight an internal battle, until finally—
“We will see, Sieun-ssi.”
That’s not a no. Sieun slumps against the seat. His chin rests against his chest, and he feels a hand come to his shoulder. Sieun wishes, for a selfish moment, that it were Suho’s, then hates himself even more.
“Go home, Sieun-ssi,” the nurse whispers. She stands and pats his shoulder. “We will let you know if anything else arises.”
“Yes,” Sieun mumbles. Slowly, finally, Sieun rises. He bows deeply to the nurse and says to the ground, “Please take care of Suho.”
A droplet falls to the ground between their feet. Sieun straightens and turns without looking at the nurse.
Once he’s outside the hospital, waiting by the bus stop, Sieun chances a glance at the window. Suho’s room doesn’t face this street, but Sieun looks anyway.
Good night, Suho-yah. Take all the time you need. I will wait for you, as I always have.
Sieun settles into his usual seat, settles his head against the window glass, and dreams of red autobikes and teal windbreakers.
조심스럽게 (and I'll)
carefully (and I’ll)
운을 떼 (and I'll)
start a conversation (and I’ll)
처음처럼
like the first time
and I'll say, somehow
“Do I know you?”
Sieun smiles a small, sad smile at the boy in front of him. Their knees are nearly touching.
“No. My name is Yeon Sieun. I will be your tutor.” Sieun dips his head so he won’t have to see the lack of recognition on Suho’s face. The way Suho’s eyes had followed him when he entered the room, hollow and guarded and unknowing already haunts Sieun.
The sunlight streams gently through his bedside window. Like this, Suho’s face is illuminated by its soft rays. He looks youthful. He looks tired. He looks beautiful.
“Right.” Suho’s mouth moves awkwardly. He’s not used to talking, Sieun can tell. The fact that he can talk at all is a miracle. Sieun never believed in miracles until now.
“We’ll start slow today, Suho— ssi.” Sieun tacks on the honorific a beat too late. Sloppy, foolish, stupid. Get it together, Yeon Sieun.
Suho’s face scrunches up.
Sieun panics.
“What’s wrong?”
“Do you . . .” Suho rolls the words in his mouth, learning the way they fit now. “Do you pity me?”
“No.” Sieun’s answer is immediate. He stares unblinkingly at Suho, all of his guards down in contrast to all of Suho’s raised guards.
“Let’s have lunch, Suho-ssi.”
“I’m not hungry.”
I can’t do this. I can do this. It’s just like the first time. It’s nothing like the first time. “I’ll pay.”
Suho squints again, and Sieun’s heart swells.
새로이 눈을 뜨고
I open my eyes anew
모든 걸 잃은 채로
after having lost everything
몇 번의 처음이 반복돼도
even if the first time repeats over and over
결국 우리는 다시 제자리로
in the end, we return to our places
Lunch is a matter of placing Sieun’s takeout bag from the floor by his feet to the bedside table between them. Suho watches his movements carefully. Sieun’s skin prickles again with Suho’s gaze on him, as if his cells never forgot the feeling.
If it were like the first time, Suho might crack a joke and say, I’m a patient here, y’know. I can order my own food. As it stands, Suho only eyes him warily.
And that’s just it, isn’t it? This experience is opening Sieun’s eyes, a sensation that repeats over and over and over every second he spends in Suho’s presence again. It’s not like the first time, and it’s not the same, and it will never be the same.
When Sieun uncaps the ox bone soup, Suho shifts ever so slightly towards the food. His nose flares, so miniscule you’d miss it if you weren’t paying attention. Sieun, of course, catches all of it.
It’s your favorite, Sieun thinks fondly. Presently, he clears his throat and says, “You have it first.”
Suho’s face twists. “Are you pitying me?”
“No.” No matter how many times Suho asks, Sieun’s answer will always be the same, because it’s true—he’ll never pity Suho, not one bit, not when it was Suho’s own strength and determination that brought him back from the edge of death’s canyon.
“It’s because—” Sieun pauses, and barrels forward, “You’re older.”
“Oh?” For the first time, Suho’s face shifts into something that isn’t apprehension or despair. The corner of his mouth lifts, ever so slightly again, and Sieun thinks, Yes, yes. This is how it is meant to be.
“Should you call me hyung, then?”
Sieun cannot run away from his nature. He bristles, even as he quickly schools his expression again. “We’re still the same year.”
That was the wrong thing to say. Suho’s expression flutters closed. “No,” he says quietly, a little resentfully, a little bit upset. “You’re tutoring me. I missed a year while I was . . .” He gestures to his head.
Sieun wants to completely erase all of the discomfort and insecurity and self-loathing in Suho’s body. Ultimately, he cannot erase Suho’s humanity. So he settles on saying, “I meant birth year, Suho-y—Suho-ssi. 2006.”
“2006? So that makes me . . .” Suho pauses, his face scrunching again as he tries to calculate it. Sieun holds his breath. Finally, Suho scoffs bitterly. “I don’t even know what year it is.”
“It’s 2024. We’re 18 this year, Suho-ssi. And—” Sieun chooses his next words carefully. “I’ll be starting my senior year. And I’ll tutor you, and we’ll graduate together.” At Suho’s suspicious expression, Sieun backtracks. “I meant, as in I will graduate, and you’ll pass your GED test. You’ll pass it, Suho-ssi.” Sieun says this firmly, leaving no room for doubt.
Suho still looks wary. “You seem very sure, Sieun-ssi.”
“I am.” Sieun’s hand reaches out, then drops uselessly to his side again. “We’ll be on parallel paths, Suho-ssi. Not the same, but side-by-side, as equals. Neither of us will be greater than the other.”
Suho swallows inaudibly. His gaze shakes. Suho turns his head to the soup. “It’s getting cold.”
“Let’s eat, Suho-ssi.”
Their session ends shortly after lunch. Sieun packs up what little belongings he brought, and Suho remains on the bed. A nurse comes in to help Suho lay down, and he only grunts in reply when Sieun bids him goodbye.
In the end, Suho returns to his hospital bed and Sieun returns to the bus stop, waiting to return home. No, not home. To his apartment, away from home.
운명이 다시 한번
if fate once again
대답을 바란다면
demands my answer
그때도 난 우릴 선택해
even then, I’ll choose us
when we go back to strangers
“Sieun.”
Suho’s voice is quiet when he speaks. They’re in the same position they’re always in for their lessons: Sieun, sitting in the chair with his back to the window, and Suho sitting on the edge of the bed facing him, their knees barely touching.
Today, Suho was still sleeping when Sieun came. Recovering from a session of physical therapy, according to the nurses who let Sieun in, so their lessons wouldn’t start just yet.
Sieun was fine with that. He pulled out his textbooks and notebooks and began studying at the windowsill, just like he did every day when Suho was comatose, but it was different now. Now, Sieun knew that Suho’s sleep was one of rest and not of survival, one where his body recuperated strength rather than hanging on to any sliver of it in desperation. Sieun much preferred this kind of sleep.
Not only that, Suho looked different like this, too. For one, he’s no longer breathing through a mask, a fact that gave Sieun an immediate rush of hope when he found out, even as he reminded himself that Suho still had a long way to go before returning to any semblance of normal. And he looks better, too. Where before his face was a perfect stone sculpture, cold and unmoving underneath the plastic mask, now Suho looked relaxed and peaceful. His skin is beginning to wrinkle and fold around his eyes and lips where he smiles more, nowadays. What a blessing it is, that Suho’s beautiful face can show the proof of his recovery and immense strength. Sieun can hardly believe it.
When Suho stirred, Sieun stayed quiet and observed Suho carefully. It was a medical miracle, the doctors and nurses said, that Suho woke up, and it’s a testament to the strength of his body that he’s been able to power through physical therapy.
Per the nurses’ orders, Sieun let Suho attempt to sit up by himself. Suho hadn’t looked at him, not yet, rather looking down at his lap with furrowed eyebrows and lips pursed in concentration as Suho pushed up from the bed with all of his strength. Eventually, he turned his face up to Sieun and gave him a silent imploring look: Help me.
Sieun was off the chair before he knew it. With careful but firm hands under Suho’s arms, Sieun slowly tugged him to a sitting position. Once he knew Suho was situated on the edge of the bed, Sieun carefully took his own seat.
“Sieun-ah.”
Softly, as if testing the sound in his mouth, Suho calls Sieun’s name. Sieun holds his breath, eyes wide, as Suho slowly brings his gaze up to meet Sieun’s. He looks serious, the way he looks when Sieun catches him at the tail end of a frustrating physical therapy session, as if he’s fighting an invisible fight in a place Sieun can’t reach.
“Yes?”
Suho holds his gaze steadily. His eyebrows are still furrowed, his mouth now set in a flat line—Sieun isn’t sure what to expect. All he knows is to listen.
“I—” Suho lets out a shaky breath. He clears his throat. “I remember. Some of it. Nothing from when I got into a coma, but the stuff before it. Us. The other boy. The girl. We— our friendship.”
Sieun can’t speak. He’s faintly aware that his mouth is open and beginning to dry out, but Sieun can’t bring himself to swallow.
Suho remembers? What is Sieun supposed to say to that? He’s been warned not to broach sensitive topics lest he upset Suho, but Suho brought it up first.
He’s spared from responding, at least for now, when Suho continues speaking. “Why did you say we didn’t know each other when I woke up?”
Sieun blinks. “I didn’t want to upset you.” The sleeve of his jacket slides down his hand. Sieun starts picking at its hem, a nervous habit he never quite broke even after all of these years. “If I say we did know each other, but you didn’t remember anything, that might’ve been difficult to handle.”
“Right.” Suho nods, just barely. “But now I know. Kind of. It’s . . . kind of weird. I still don’t know what happened, but I think my body might know what’s coming, because every time I think of it I feel a sense of doom.”
Suho sucks in a breath. “But that’s not only what I feel. In my head, I’m seeing these moments where you and I ate lunch together, or sat in the classroom together, or rode around together. Sieun, I used to ride a bike?”
Sieun nods. Suho takes in his expression with his own grim look. Sieun wonders if that’s what he looks like right now.
“Guess that’s another thing to add to my PT bucket list, huh?” Finally, Suho cracks a small smile, the small wry one that says he doesn’t really think something is funny, but he’s going along with it anyway. “It won’t be my only goal. I have a couple others. Sieun, were we really close?”
Sieun swallows. His mouth feels incredibly dry. “You’re my best friend,” he whispers. Neither he nor Suho misses the tense in his words.
Nodding again, Suho catches his eyes once more. “I keep getting this feeling,” Suho murmurs, “that I want to protect you. That feeling might have something to do with the coma. Is that true?”
(I want to protect you. The sound of it is both relieving and not. Sieun thinks back to the first thing Suho had said to him when they stood across from each other in that classroom in Byuksan.
Me? I’m like your guardian angel that just woke up from a nap. Sieun thinks he always knew, even if not consciously, that Suho would do everything he could to protect Sieun when their paths crossed. It’s the reason he intervened with Youngbin, and the reason he chased after Gilsu when Sieun ran off, and the reason he fought Wooyoung. Sieun probably knew it, in his heart of hearts, from the moment Suho stood on the stoop of his apartment and asked if he was doing well.)
Sieun debates the merits and demerits of confirming Suho’s suspicion. On one hand, there’s the ever persistent fear of overwhelming and frustrating Suho. On the other hand, Suho doesn’t seem too volatile or frustrated, just . . . determined. Like he needs answers, and Sieun is the only one who can give them.
Finally, Sieun decides. “Yes.”
“Man, what even happened?” Suho eyes Sieun. It feels like the mood has lightened, just ever so slightly. “Did I fall defending your honor or something?”
Sieun glances down into his lap so Suho won’t see the way his eyes burn. He stays silent, but Sieun’s silence must be answer enough for Suho. When Sieun looks up again, Suho is frowning.
“I must’ve been bad news. What was someone like you doing with someone like me?” Suho gestures to Sieun’s textbooks. “Clearly, you’re going to go somewhere with that big brain of yours. But you’re here, in a musty hospital room tutoring the guy that was a vegetable until a couple weeks ago.”
Suho’s words are joking, but his tone is anything but. He leans forward slightly, so their feet knock together in the space between the window and the bed. “Do you regret it? Being friends with me.”
“Never.” Sieun wants to say so much, but the words don’t come out.
“Even though it ended up like this?” Suho waves a limp hand around, gesturing lightly between the two of them and the general room. “I won’t be offended if you do, I promise.”
Suho’s trying to be cool, and it reminds Sieun so much of the past that his breath gets stuck in his throat.
“Never.” Sieun says it like a promise, and in a way, it is—even if he could redo it, Sieun would choose to befriend Suho over and over and over. “I’ll never regret being your friend, Suho-yah.” Sieun lets the name slip, a mark of his vulnerability. After hearing Suho say Sieun-ah and remember, this is like Sieun’s olive branch.
“Even if you never remembered me again, I’d still not regret it. I want to be here.” With you.
Suho holds his gaze, dark and heavy, before his eyes drop to his lap. The two of them sit in silence until Suho speaks again.
“I still don’t remember everything,” he says quietly, softly, barely audible over the thundering of Sieun’s heart. “But I do remember this feeling. I want to be with you, too, Sieun-ah.”
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
When Suho goes back to sleep, Sieun feels like he’s in a fever dream. He pushes the non-emergency button to call the nurses and quietly tells them about Suho’s returning memories. They take it in stride, nodding professionally and moving quickly to account for these changes, but Sieun can see it in the way they look at each other: they’re hopeful, too.
They call halmeoni, too. Sieun feels himself seize up with nervousness in the wait before she arrives, but it spills out of him when halmeoni walks through the door and embraces him.
(They’ve been spending more time together, the two of them, more so now that Suho is actually awake and Sieun is tutoring him. In addition to the usual You should go home and rest, Sieun-ah and I can stay here with him, halmeoni will sometimes bring him food and share a meal with him in Suho’s hospital room.
Once, they were in the midst of eating when Suho woke up and complained that they were eating without him. It was another testament to Suho’s rapid recovery that he could now easily wake up and start talking, even if it was to whine about how flavorless the hospital food was. It all makes Sieun fond and so, so grateful.)
Once the nurses update her on Suho’s status, halmeoni shuffles over and takes a seat next to Sieun on the windowsill.
“How are you doing, Sieun-ah?” Halmeoni takes Sieun’s face in a firm grip and moves his head around, this way and that. “You look thin. Have you been eating the food I gave you?”
Sieun dips his head politely. “Yes, halmeoni. Thank you for the food, and I’m sorry for the trouble.”
“Not at all, Sieun-ah. You’ve done so much for my boy, for our Suho. But you are still young, a young boy taking care of another young boy. So you can lean on me, okay?” Halmeoni squeezes his hand and smiles, the corners of her eyes crinkling the same way Suho’s does when he smiles.
Sieun nods, not trusting himself to speak. Halmeoni seems relieved and a bit pleased as she sits with him. She and Sieun watch the nurses surround Suho and talk quietly amongst themselves. When the sun finally dips below the horizon and long shadows crawl along the hospital floor, a nurse approaches them.
Suho is doing well, she tells them. He’s progressing normally on his physical therapy, the tutoring sessions with Sieun are helping him exercise his mind, and the recent recovery of some of his memories are all good signs. It’ll still be a while before he’s discharged, but the nurse reassures them that Suho is on a steady path to recovery.
Sieun feels halmeoni’s hand reach out and squeeze his hand. It’s shaking, Sieun notices, and when he turns to look he sees halmeoni’s glassy eyes and his own wobbly reflection looking back at them.
“Did you hear that, Sieun-ah? Our boy is recovering.” She sniffles.
Squeezing her hand back, Sieun nods. Tears prick at the backs of his own eyes, but it doesn’t stop the small smile from spreading on Sieun’s lips. This time, when halmeoni pulls him to his feet and tells him to go home, Sieun doesn’t resist.
He reaches to the backpack at his feet and slings it over his shoulder. Taking another look at Suho’s sleeping form on the hospital bed, Sieun’s heart feels lighter than it has in ages. He lets himself be led silently to the edge of the bed by halmeoni.
“Oh, Suho dear,” halmeoni addresses him. She’s beginning to shake again, so Sieun gives her hand another squeeze. “Halmeoni and Sieunie are going home now. You did so well today, hm? Halmeoni is proud of you. Good night, my boy.”
Halmeoni reaches her other hand out and softly brushes the hair out of Suho’s eyes. Sieun watches his soft, even breaths as Suho’s chest rises and falls. Halmeoni retracts her hand. She begins leading them to the door, where a nurse waits with a kind smile and a hand on the door, ready to close Suho’s room for the night.
Just before they step out into the hallway, Sieun glances over his shoulder. Suho is still sleeping, his face once again beholding the peaceful and carefree expression that Sieun loves.
“Good night, Suho-yah,” Sieun breathes. The door closes behind him with a soft click.
가장 소중한 말들과
the most precious words and
순간을 전부 모아 너에게 줄게
moments, I’ll gather them all to give to you
아껴두었던 시간, 너의 미래
the time I’ve saved, your future
그 언제 꺼내봐도 아깝지 않게
so when you take it out, it won’t feel like a waste
Sieun’s just setting down his bag and removing his books when Suho brings it up.
“I got my phone back.” He says it casually, seemingly unaware of the way the words make Sieun freeze. Glancing at Suho, Sieun sees that he’s watching him faux-casually, as if gauging Sieun’s reaction. Suho raises an eyebrow (Sieun must be going crazy if that simple act is enough to bring him relief, as proof that Suho’s regaining control over his facial muscles).
“What? Is that a bad thing?”
Sieun schools his expression into his usual: not the flat one he presents for strangers and Baku half the time, but the softer one that he reserves for Suho. Here, in this hospital room, Suho deserves the utmost warmth, so Sieun does his best.
“No.” Sieun takes a seat and faces Suho. “When did she give it to you?”
Suho shrugs. “This morning. Halmeoni got it cleared with the nurses and just handed it to me. Apparently she’s been bringing it around with her in her purse.” He eyes Sieun curiously. “What’s with that face?”
“I’m not making a face.” And to prove his point, Sieun scrunches his face at Suho. That pulls a laugh out of Suho—his face opens in surprise, mirroring Sieun’s own surprise at his audacity. He’s glad none of his friends were here to snap a picture of Sieun in that incriminating state. “Are you enjoying having your phone back?”
“About that.” Suho chuckles awkwardly. “Do you have a charger? It’s completely dead, so I can’t do anything with it.”
“Sure, hold on.” Sieun fishes around in his bag and tries not to let his nerves show. This conversation is so normal, it makes Sieun’s heart hurt. Still, when Suho pulls it out of his hospital gown pocket and hands it to Sieun, he can’t hide the tremor in his hands.
The last time he held Suho’s phone, he’d been texting Beomseok and stuffed it in a couch cushion afterwards so Suho wouldn’t find it. Following that line of events is making Sieun’s head hurt, so he pushes the memory out of his mind and stands. He just needs to plug Suho’s phone in, for God’s sake. By the time it’s in a usable state, Sieun will probably already be home and not have to bear witness to when Suho inevitably reads his messages. All one thousand of them, beginning from the night Sieun got that call from Yeongi until the moment Sieun got the call from the hospital some months ago.
“So, what’s the lesson for today, ssaem?” Suho grinned, leaning back on his bed.
“Don’t call me that,” Sieun replies automatically. He pulls out a thick spiral notebook bursting with papers and sticky notes. “I have something to show you.”
The something in question is Sieun’s year-long plan to get Suho up to speed and passing his GED exam. He sets it on the bedside table between them and slowly walks Suho through the steps.
Suho makes a sound of appreciation. “Damn, you were planning this when you started tutoring me?”
“Not quite.” Sieun begins to sweat when Suho turns his glimmering eyes to him. “I started it— before. A while ago. I knew there would be a lot you’d miss out on because of your coma, and a lot of it is out of my control, but this isn’t.”
Sieun gestures to the notebook. “I wanted you to be able to get your GED, at least. Before, you said you didn’t want to go to college and you’d just start working after high school, and at the time I didn’t really get it because I was always told college was the end goal, but I get it now. Even so, helping you get your GED is the least I could do, if getting a diploma wasn’t an option. I know it seems like a lot, but you can do it, Suho-yah. I’ll help you.” Sieun sucks in a huge breath. He didn’t realize how out of breath he’d be, but then again, he didn’t expect to start rambling once he opened this notebook.
Suho stares at him for a long moment. Sieun wipes his clammy hands on his pants and waits for Suho’s response. Finally, Suho chuckles, a disbelieving and fond sound that confuses Sieun.
“What? What’s so funny?”
“Ah, Sieun.” Suho shakes his head, still smiling at Sieun. “You fucking nerd.”
Sieun sputters. “What?”
“This is how I know you really love me. Making me a study plan for the rest of my senior year even though I just woke up from a coma. You never waste any time, huh?” Suho takes the notebook into his lap, still laughing to himself as Sieun damn near chokes on his own spit. So much just happened in the past two minutes, and yet all Sieun can focus on are the reddening tips of Suho’s ears.
Sieun clears his throat and falls into silence as Suho flips through the notebook. He’s getting a crawling, vulnerable feeling watching Suho leaf through its pages. The culmination of multiple sleepless nights spent researching the GED exam and coma recovery and statistics are sitting in Suho’s lap right now. Seeing his own frantic and desperate handwriting staring back at him makes Sieun’s skin prickle.
Suho’s stopped laughing as he looks further into the notebook. He seems to be very intently inspecting the notebook, and Sieun can only watch with his heart in his throat.
Once he reaches the end, Suho closes the book gingerly. He looks up and their eyes meet—Sieun can see the wetness of Suho’s eyes as they stare at each other.
Sieun is the first to break the silence. “What do you think?”
Suho blinks. A smile slowly unfurls on his lips. “You’re very thorough,” he says at last. “But it’s a good thing. It makes me feel reassured that I have someone reliable like you by my side.”
Heart jack-rabbiting in his chest, Sieun can only nod.
“Even though I wasted damn near two years of my life in my coma,” Suho continues, “seeing this made it feel less crushing. The fact that every step is planned out for me to return to normal life— I’m happy, Sieun-ah. Thank you, seriously.”
“Of course.” This was never not going to happen. Even when it seemed like Suho would never wake up, Sieun held on and kept crafting his plan to perfection so that once Suho woke up—and Sieun knew he would—Sieun’s plan would be waiting for him. For a boy robbed of so much, Sieun was going to give back even just this little bit.
For the rest of the time, Sieun picks up from their last tutoring session. Suho is considerably lighter and somehow even cheekier than he usually is as they go through the routines. They keep going until Suho flings himself backward on the bed, groaning that he can’t take it anymore, have some pity on me, Sieun-ah.
Sieun rolls his eyes but obliges, beginning to pack up his books. He freezes when Suho’s voice floats up from the bed.
“Hey, Sieun, can you get my phone?”
Sieun shakes his shock off. It shouldn’t be a big deal. Sieun just needs to make himself scarce by the time Suho opens his chatting app. Striding to the outlet on the other way, Sieun unplugs Suho’s phone and wraps up his charger around his hand.
“My number changed,” he says as he hands the phone back. “You don’t need to bother looking for the old one.”
“Aw, really? What’s your new one? I wanna save it.”
Sieun dutifully recites his phone number and picks up his bag. “I need to go home,” he lies. “Good night, Suho.”
“What? You’re leaving already?” And to Sieun’s surprise, Suho shoots up off of the bed. Noticing Sieun’s shock, Suho positively glows. “Bet you didn’t know I could do that, huh?”
“Sit down,” Sieun hisses. He puts a hand on Suho’s bed and lightly pushes him back down into a sitting position. “It’s getting late. I— don’t want to worry my parents.”
Suho sighs dramatically. “Bullshit, but fine. If you wanna leave so badly, I won’t keep you.” He lays an arm over his eyes and sighs again, louder and more insistent.
Sieun rolls his eyes, feeling a wave of fondness wash over him. “I’ll be back tomorrow,” he tells Suho. The words make Sieun freeze.
See you tomorrow.
Suho, not noticing Sieun’s reaction, just hums. When Sieun doesn’t move, he peeks an eye at him. “I thought you were leaving? Unless you wanna stay with me?” Suho grins cheekily, and Sieun’s heart hurts. He remembers the messages he sent to Suho, and it’s enough to get his feet moving.
“Sleep well, Suho-yah. We’ll meet again tomorrow.” Sieun hurries out of the room before Suho can protest and slides the door shut behind him. He slumps against the wall, breathing quickly. A quiet ding! cuts through his breaths.
Suho-yah
miss you :(
You
I said I’ll be back tomorrow
Suho-yah
i’m so bored
tomorrow can’t come quickly enough
You
Go to sleep, Suho. Good night
Suho-yah
:((((
Sieun shuts his phone off before he does something stupid and barges back into the hospital room. Once he’s outside in the cold air, waiting at the bus stop, Sieun allows himself a breath. When he’s seated on the bus, Sieun lets the exhaustion of the day wash over him.
It’s when he’s near-falling asleep on his lecture notes that the next message comes in.
Suho-yah
i read your messages.
Suddenly, Sieun is wide awake.
Suho-yah
sieun. i’m so sorry
You
Don’t apologize. It wasn’t your fault.
Nothing is your fault.
Suho-yah
i made you cry. whether that’s because of me is indisputable
sieun, I didn’t know you suffered so much
Sieun feels the skin-crawling feeling again, but he doesn’t say anything. He watches the three typing bubbles bounce.
Suho-yah
reading them, i think it’s helping me with my memory
sieun-ah. i wish i was there every time you cried or felt alone
i shouldn’t have left you alone
now you really have to come back tomorrow, okay? or i’ll hunt you down. i mean it, sieun-ah
You
Did you read all of them?
Suho-yah
yeah. i felt your heart, too
sieun. i’ll never leave you again, okay?
now go to sleep. if your messages are anything to go by, you’re probably up in your room studying
the fact that you have trouble sleeping makes my heart hurt
You
Not anymore.
I don’t have trouble sleeping anymore these nights
Ever since you woke up
The typing bubble appears, disappears, and reappears for a long time before another message comes through.
Suho-yah
that’s a relief
really, please go to sleep, sieun-ah
i’ll go to sleep too. see?
A picture fills his screen. It’s of Suho, laying in his hospital bed with his hair splayed out on his pillow. He’s pouting hard at the camera, making an absolutely pathetic face that makes Sieun weak.
Suho-yah
look at how diligently i’m laying in bed
(don’t say i’m already always in my bed. i can hear you thinking it)
but i think i’ll sleep better knowing you’re sleeping, too
Before Sieun can overthink, he reaches over and turns off his lamp. Sieun crawls into bed and throws the blanket over himself, pulling it up all the way to his chin. Then, he opens his front camera and tries not to cringe. Luckily, the room is dark enough and his blanket is pulled high enough to obscure most of him, so all that can really be seen through the camera is Sieun’s eyes. He quickly takes a picture before he psychs himself out of it and sends it.
You
There.
Suho-yah
SIEUN!!!
This picture is so dark i can barely see anything
😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
You
I’m sleeping like you told me to
Good night, Suho-yah
Suho-yah
fine :(
good night, sieun-ah
sweet dreams
조심스럽게 (and I'll)
carefully (and I’ll)
물을 때 (and I'll)
when i ask
웃어줄래?
will you give me a smile?
and I'll say, "love you"
The first thing Suho says when Sieun enters is, “Come here.”
He’s sitting on the opposite side of his bed today, the side that faces the door instead of the window. Sieun raises his eyebrows in question.
“Actually, let’s do this.”
Without another word, Suho pushes off the bed. It’s taking him some effort, Sieun can see, but he’s moving with a dexterity that’s a far cry from the first time Sieun saw him move. The ease and agility that Suho moves with robs Sieun of his own movement, until Suho is taking long strides to stand in front of the frozen Sieun.
“Hi.” Suho smiles kindly. Up close, Sieun can see the mole under Suho’s eye.
Tears spring to Sieun’s eyes. Suho, looking mildly spooked, brings a hand up and cups Sieun’s cheek. “Are you crying?” he asks softly. “Don’t cry.”
Suho removes his hand and lifts his arms, pulling Sieun into a hug. With his nose pressed into Suho’s shoulder, Sieun can smell the hospital soap and the fresh scent of laundry, as well as a smell that’s distinctly Suho. A hand pats Sieun’s back as an involuntary shudder runs through him.
Sieun wraps his arms around Suho, carefully at first. Suho takes that as his cue to squeeze Sieun even tighter, nearly crushing Sieun with a strength that makes him bite back a sob. Abandoning all pretenses, Sieun hugs him back, until Suho is surely experiencing the same breathlessness that Sieun is.
They stay like that for a long while, gripping each other like lifelines. Sieun’s hands lock behind Suho’s back; he feels Suho’s hand on the back of his head, stroking his hair; Sieun feels alive, the blood rushing through his veins and pumping him with a newfound drive. Sieun practically melts, until Suho is the one holding Sieun up instead of the other way around.
“I like this,” Suho says quietly. “The fact that I can hold you. I’m getting stronger, Sieun. You can lean on me now.”
“Suho,” Sieun chokes. His voice cracks, sounding warbled and wet. Suho just chuckles softly.
“Okay, let’s go sit.” Still holding Sieun, Suho waddles the two of them over to the bed and sets Sieun down first. Looking up at Suho through his teary eyes, Sieun sees a brave, shining boy.
Suho sits next to Sieun, close enough that their legs and arms press together in one line from their calves to their shoulders. It’s their first time sitting like this, side by side instead of face to face.
“Bet you were surprised, huh?”
Sieun sniffles in response. It seems like Suho is endeared by everything Sieun does, because he just laughs quietly again. Suho swings his feet lightly when he speaks again.
“I remembered a little more after reading your messages.” He gives Sieun a sidelong glance. “Specifically from that night. I remember standing at your apartment door, staring down at you. Your arm, wrapped up in a cast that you tried to hide from me.”
“I’m sorry,” Sieun rasps.
“Don’t be. I know why you did it.” Suho lets out a long breath, turning his gaze up to the ceiling. “When that memory came back, the only thought I had was that I regretted not giving you a hug then. You looked like you really needed it. I did, too.”
His head is swimming. Sieun blinks back more tears and tries to breathe steadily. With a cautious hand, he touches Suho’s hand. Suho lets him take it easily, until their fingers are intertwined in a loose hold.
“Suho-yah,” Sieun breathes. Suho looks at him, his own eyes glassy, and cocks his head in a silent encouragement.
“Will you— will you smile for me?”
It’s automatic, the way Suho’s lips part. First in surprise, then in an expression Sieun can only describe as pure bliss and relief. Suho grins at him—Sieun can see every single one of his white teeth. He looks beautiful in Sieun’s eyes.
Sieun feels his own lips part. He feels like he needs to squint from how brightly Suho shines in this quiet hospital room, in a moment shared just between the two of them. They smile at each other, a little stupidly, a lot brightly, like they’re both drunk on life.
“Suho-yah.” Sieun can’t, doesn’t stop the words from falling out of his mouth. “I love you.”
새로이 눈을 뜨고
I open my eyes anew
모든 걸 잃은 채로
after having lost everything
몇 번의 처음이 반복돼도
even if the first time repeats over and over
결국 우리는 다시 제자리로
in the end, we return to our places
Sieun has the great pleasure of seeing the entirety of Suho’s reaction up close. First are his eyes, which widen into large saucers. Sieun can see the blacks of his enlarge, his pupils dilating as they look at Sieun.
Then his lips. They curl into a small o, his soft and pink lips rounding into a cute expression of surprise.
Then, his face. Sieun’s eyes run all over Suho’s face, taking in the whole image in front of him. Blood rushes from Suho’s neck to his cheeks, until his whole face is reddening into a shade that should be concerning. It even reaches the tip of his ears, which poke out of Suho’s overgrown hair like shining rubies in a trough.
Suho looks as flushed as Sieun feels. The back of his neck is hot, but Sieun doesn’t move. He just watches.
It takes a long time for Suho to speak again. When he does, his response is just—
“Huh?”
A laugh bubbles out of Sieun. Suho is so cute. “I love you,” Sieun repeats.
It’s amazing, the range of emotions that flicker over Suho’s face as his eyes jump all over Sieun’s face. Then, replacing his slack-jawed expression is a wide grin, bigger and brighter and more wonderful than anything Sieun has seen yet. He’s shaking, Sieun realizes.
Suho nods rapidly. He reaches out and takes Sieun’s other hand, clutching them together in his grip as he grins widely.
“Me too,” Suho says, a little breathlessly. “I love you, too. I love you, Sieun. I love you so much.”
Sieun understands, now. His whole body freezes, becoming ice cold for just a moment before an inferno courses through his veins, igniting him into a blazing ember of a boy. It’s a blessing, not a curse, to be sitting in this hospital room across from an awake and recovering Suho, because Sieun gets to give and receive love with Suho.
This is how it feels to be loved by Suho, Sieun marvels. He finds the feeling is not too unfamiliar.
Suho giggles, and Sieun follows soon after. They’re still holding hands, their knees pressed together as Suho and Sieun turn their bodies towards each other on the edge of the bed.
“You know what this reminds me of?” Sieun asks.
Suho hums happily. “What?”
“I don’t know if you remember, but you were in the hospital once before.” If Suho really doesn’t remember, Sieun will spare him the gory details that resulted in that hospital visit. “It wasn’t serious, and you were only in there for a night. But you kept complaining about being hungry.”
Suho nods with rapt attention.
“Specifically, you wanted ox bone soup.”
Suho’s eyes light up in understanding. “Is that why you brought it the first time we met?”
“Yes.” Sieun ducks his head. For whatever reason, he suddenly feels shy. “So I brought you some, then. It was just the street-stall kind—I didn’t think it was anything special. But when I gave it to you, you looked at me, and— and you said you got a weird feeling.” Suho makes a horrified face. Sieun barrels on. “And you said it was weird, because of my gaze, and my actions, and my words, and my expressions, and my words. You said I was so warm-hearted.” Sieun trails off into a whisper.
Suho looks stunned. He blinks once, twice. His grip tightens.
“I remember.” Sieun’s heart races. “And I meant all of it. I meant it, Sieun,” Suho says fiercely. “You are warm-hearted. You stayed by me even when there wasn’t any hope. You’re sitting here now, tutoring me, because you love me. Your heart is so warm and wonderful and precious, Sieun-ah.”
What can Sieun do, but love Suho even harder? He rubs Suho’s hands between his.
“Back then,” he starts, “I’d never heard that from anyone. You were the first person to say that to me, and I remember thinking that was the first time somebody saw me, for once.” Sieun laughs wryly. “That was also the first time I smiled in a long while, and you made the same face you did just now, like you couldn’t believe your eyes.”
“Your smile is so beautiful.” Suho says it resolutely. “Past me was absolutely right for being stunned. I couldn’t handle it then. I can barely handle it now.” He brings a hand up and cradles Sieun’s cheek. “Sieun-ah, you’re so beautiful.”
He must feel how hot Sieun’s skin is burning under his touch. Sieun doesn’t resist it this time—he’s learned his lesson and gained a lifetime of regret from shying away from Suho’s touch.
Unlike yesterday, when it’s time for Sieun to leave, he hardly wants to move. He almost doesn’t, per Suho’s insistence that Sieun lay down with him on the bed, but the nurse checking on Suho for the night wasn’t having any of it.
“You should go home, Sieun-ssi,” the nurse says. She’s one of the newer ones, not as acquainted with Suho and Sieun as the others. “Suho-ssi needs his rest.”
“I can rest with Sieun here,” Suho says stubbornly. “I’d probably rest better if we were together.”
She looks tired. “Please. It is hospital policy that all visitors leave once visiting hours are over. Sieun-ssi, you can come back tomorrow.”
It takes everything in Sieun not to curl up against Suho on the bed. With a heavy heart, Sieun stands.
“Don’t go.” Suho gives Sieun one of his biggest pouts, his eyes wide and pleading. “You can stay here for the night, right Sieun?”
“I want to.”
“Ahem. Please leave, Sieun-ssi.”
Sieun gives Suho one last hug before he starts walking to the door. He watches Suho over his shoulder the whole time, the two of them exchanging forlorn glances, but the nurse is quick and efficient with escorting Sieun outside. Far too soon, he’s standing in the hallway outside Suho’s room.
“Get some rest, Sieun-ssi,” the nurse says before she disappears back inside Suho’s room.
All the way home, Sieun’s heart is full of Suho. And now, he knows that Suho is the same.
운명이 다시 한번
if fate once again
대답을 바란다면
demands my answer
그때도 난 우릴 선택해
even then, I’ll choose us
when we go back to strangers
Admittedly, Sieun’s been devoting a lot of time to Suho at the hospital. Not that that’s a bad thing, per se, but he comes face to face with it one day during lunch. It happens halfway through the semester—a valiant effort, Sieun thinks. They were bound to ask one day.
Like usual, Sieun hears Baku before he sees him. He and Juntae had just set their plates down when a booming voice cut through the clamor of the lunchroom. Sieun sighs and braces himself.
“Sieun-kun! Juntae-kun!” Baku’s eager face is in laughable contrast with Gotak’s exasperated expression when the two of them sit opposite Sieun and Juntae. “It’s great to see you two!”
“We were literally just in class,” Gotak deadpans.
“And I couldn’t get away fast enough,” Baku responds cheerfully. He scoops a spoonful of rice into his mouth and, disgustingly, starts talking again. “So, what are you guys doing after school?”
Sieun places a beansprout in his mouth calmly, pointedly chewing and swallowing before speaking. “Don’t talk with your mouth full.”
Baku makes a disregarding sound. A rice grain flies from his mouth to the table. “As prim and proper as always, Sieunie.”
Sieunie. The nickname reminds Sieun of Suho. This whole exchange is reminding him of Suho—Sieun wonders if he’s had lunch yet. Maybe, depending on how well his physical therapy session went today. Sieun makes a mental note to ask him when he visits later today.
Which brings him back to the conversation. Juntae is saying something about studying with Gotak in the library, to which Baku’s eyes light up.
“I know you’re not excited for studying,” Gotak says distastefully. “What’s that look for?”
“Well, I was just thinking.” Baku drops his head onto the table dramatically and pouts up at the three of them. “It’s been so long since I’ve hung out with my dear friends. What if we all went to the arcade today? Or go see a movie? I heard the new historical movie is really good.”
“Can’t.” Sieun chews and swallows another spoonful of food.
Juntae looks considering, glancing between Gotak and Sieun. “Are you visiting Suho today?”
Sieun nods. It’s a little awkward, just a little, to mention Suho around his friends. They’ve reassured him that it’s fine, and they know about his past, but still. Sieun thinks he’ll always be a little guarded around the edges when it comes to Suho.
“Then—” Juntae looks between Gotak and Baku before turning back to Sieun hopefully, “—maybe we could come with you? If it’s not too much?”
“We’re super curious, Sieun,” Gotak adds.
“Super curious!” Baku sits up, eyes sparkling. “Can we, Sieun? I’ve always wanted to meet the great and fabled legend Ahn Suho!”
Maybe it’s the effect of having been by Suho’s side this whole time, and seeing and talking with him now that he’s been awake for the past couple of months, that Sieun doesn’t immediately refuse. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s them, his friends, that eases the initial resistance that surges in Sieun’s heart.
Aw, come on, Sieun-ah, Suho whines in his head. I wanna meet your friends! Who’s been treating Sieunie well while I’ve been away?
Still, Sieun hesitates. He looks between his friends, at Juntae’s kindness and Gotak’s interest and Baku’s general excitement, and wonders if it would really be okay to bring them to meet Suho.
(There’s still a part of him that wants to hide Suho away, keep him safe in Sieun’s hold and as far away from as many prying eyes as possible. The less people know about Suho, the safer it is for him.
But then he remembers what Suho says every time Sieun goes home for the day:
I’m lonely, Sieun-ah. Won’t you stay with me?
Whether that line works on Sieun every time Suho says it is not relevant. What Sieun’s mind snags on now is Suho’s pleading face as he says, I’m lonely.
Would he want to meet Sieun’s friends? Rather than his own reservations, Sieun tries approaching it from Suho’s perspective: he woke up from a nearly two-year long coma a couple months ago and is confined to the hospital grounds while he recovers. The only people he sees are the nurses and hospital staff, his grandmother, and Sieun. Of all of those people, only one is near his age, and Sieun is self-aware enough to know that he’s not the best source of enrichment and socialization.)
As if on cue, Sieun’s phone buzzes. He knows immediately that it’s Suho, per the custom notification sound he’d set for whenever he gets a message from Suho’s phone number—SIeun’s heartbeat picks up.
It’s a photo, one Sieun can’t ascertain from just the lockscreen notification banner. He opens his phone, ignoring the nosy sounds from his friends, and looks at the message.
Two photos, actually. The first is a pitiful plate of hospital food. The second is a picture of Suho himself, pouting at the camera. His lower lip juts out, big and pink and extra pouty. His eyes even look a little watery.
A message comes in.
Suho-yah
sieun-ah look at this. look at what they’re feeding me
how am I supposed to strengthen up and recover with food like this?
should I skip it and wait for my dear sieunie to bring me ox bone soup when he comes in the afternoon?
You
Don’t you dare.
What makes you think I would bring you food if you talk about skipping the meals you’re given?
Suho-yah
because you love me
💋
Sieun wills himself not to blush at the lunch table.
You
…
You still need to eat the food they give you
Suho-yah
I don’t hear a no~
when are you coming sieun-ah :(((
i’m so bored 😞
You
You know I come at 4 every day
Sieun bites his lip. His thumbs hover over the keyboard.
You
Suho-yah
Do you want to meet my friends?
He watches the typing bubble appear and disappear and reappear. Chewing his lip nervously, Sieun waits. He hears Baku ask loudly about what Sieun is doing, to which Gotak and Juntae shush him just as loudly.
Finally, Suho responds.
Suho-yah
do you want me to meet them?
Somehow, it doesn’t surprise Sieun that Suho is thinking of him first.
You
It’s your choice
I’ll only bring them if you’re comfortable with it
Another pause. Then—
Suho-yah
sure
does that mean no lesson today 😋
You
To be determined
Sieun sets his phone down heavily. Suho seemed to take it well, and Sieun feels the knot in his chest begin to unravel. He looks at his friends, who stare back in anticipation.
“Sure,” he says casually. “You guys can come meet him.”
“SCORE!” Baku pumps a fist in the air, and he and Gotak begin squabbling over what they’ll do and snacks they’ll bring.
Juntae grins at Sieun. “I’m excited to meet him,” he murmurs. “He seems really important to you.”
Sieun nods, suddenly feeling shy. “He is.”
His palms are sweaty. Behind him, Juntae and Gotak sit, talking quietly with their hands together. Beside Sieun, Baku is nearly vibrating out of his seat with excitement.
“Do you think he’ll like me, Sieun-kun?” Baku clutches the plastic bag of convenience store snacks to his chest and looks at Sieun with pleading eyes.
“Yes,” Sieun says truthfully. He doesn’t reprimand Baku to tone down his energy, because Sieun can see the two of them getting along like a house on fire. Even if Suho’s not completely back to the energy he had before, he’s still plenty energetic with Sieun.
“That’s a relief.” Baku sits back and pulls out a bag of chips. With one swift motion, he opens it and pops one in his mouth, chewing noisily as he stares forward. When he notices SIeun’s look of disdain, he holds the bag out. “Want one?”
“I’ll pass.” Sieun turns to the window. The trees are passing by in a blur, the approaching summer sun casting everything in a warm glow despite the late afternoon. He hopes it’ll be this bright and sunny like this when they arrive at the hospital.
Sieun shoots Suho a quick text letting him know they’re coming. He responds with a gif of a bear holding two thumbs up. It settles in Sieun’s heart, warm and welcome. With a click, Sieun sets his phone down and rests his head against the bus window.
(It’s not like when he would go home long after visiting hours ended, left with nothing but the aching in his chest and the image of Suho’s faint breath fogging the ventilator nearly permanently burned into his eyes, when he’d be alone in the bus and lean against the window and close his eyes, pretending that he was back in the time when it was him, the sleepy city, and ever-moving boy on a delivery bike speeding around on stolen time.
But it’s not like when Sieun would board this lonely bus in the waning remnants of light of the sunset after their tutoring sessions, when the stars would begin to sparkle down at him through the bus window, dull in comparison to the twinkle in Suho’s eyes from their lessons.
It’s just different. In what way, Sieun isn’t sure. He’ll find out soon enough.)
They’ve rolled Suho out to the open lawn on the hospital grounds. Sieun strides out to him, trying and failing to hide his smile when Suho spots him and gives him his big smile, wide and stupid and happy. He hears his friends shuffling behind him, but Sieun trains his eyes on Suho’s face.
Suho stares directly at Sieun. It’s electrifying, the feeling of maintaining total eye contact with Ahn Suho. A lucid Ahn Suho, one who knows who Sieun is and loves him. Once Sieun is a couple meters away, Suho’s eyes slide off his face to over his shoulder.
“Hello!” Baku’s bellowing voice makes Sieun jump. He sees Suho’s eyes flick back to him, sharpening just slightly as he furrows his eyebrows.
Another thing they’re recovering is the silent communication they used to have with just their eyes. Right now, Suho’s asking if Sieun is okay—Sieun sends a message back, reassuring him that he’s fine and my friend’s just like that, sorry.
The four of them stop in front of Suho. Sieun, standing right in front of Suho, drinks in the image of him in the golden cast of late afternoon sunlight. His hair is tousled, giving him a boyish look that’s far younger than they both know; he has Sieun’s grey jacket on, the one he forgot in the room one time and came back the next day to see Suho wrapping himself stubbornly in when Sieun asked for it back; and his eyes.
Like Sieun’s come to look forward to, Suho’s eyes shine, even brighter than in the hospital room now that they stand before each other, unobstructed in the sun’s embrace.
“Who’re you guys?” To the unsuspecting eye, Suho looks serious, but Sieun can recognize the teasing glint in his eyes.
“These are my friends.” Sieun gestures to each of them one by one. “Seo Juntae. Go Hyuntak. Park Humin.”
“Nice to meet you!” Juntae gives him a dimpled smile.
Gotak tips his head at Suho. “Hey.”
Baku points an enthusiastic thumb at himself. “You can call me Baku!”
“Baku. The loud one.” Suho nods pensively.
“That’s me!” Grinning widely, Baku puffs out his chest. “And he’s Gotak!” His thumb points to Gotak now. “And this guy doesn’t have a cool nickname, but it’s okay because Sieun doesn’t have one either! Unless you count ice princess.”
Gotak snorts. “That’s not true. I call Juntae Jjun.”
“And he calls you Tak, but that’s just your weird couple shit.” Baku sneers.
Sensing that the two of them are going to start squabbling right then and there, Sieun opens his mouth to speak, but a sound cuts him off.
From his wheelchair, Suho chuckles wryly. “You guys are an interesting bunch.” Sieun stares at him, eyes wide, but Suho is giving Baku a onceover. “Ice princess?”
“Oh, yeah!” Baku clamps a hand on Sieun’s shoulder and flashes another bright smile at Suho. “We—” (Who’s we? Gotak mutters to Juntae) “—call him ice princess ‘cause he’s always acting cold and aloof and princessy.”
Sieun’s about to retort, but another laugh from Suho stops him. It’s beginning to get disorienting, trying to balance between watching Suho’s every reaction and handling Baku’s neverending words.
Suho seems comfortable, as far as Sieun can tell. He glances at Sieun, and they exchange another silent conversation.
You okay?
Yup. You?
As long as you are.
“That sounds like my Sieunie.” With unexpected dexterity, Suho raises his leg and pokes Sieun with the tip of his sneakered foot. That, paired with Suho’s lopsided smile, the one with dimples and a knowing look in his eyes, settles the nerves clawing up Sieun’s neck.
Seated around a park table, conversation flows naturally between them. Suho, with the help of Sieun, moves from his wheelchair to the bench and is seated next to Sieun, with his three friends forming a loose arc across from the two. His initial worries fade away when he sees how receptive Suho is to his friends. He talks about convenience store snacks with Juntae and basketball with Baku, and even shares some details of his physical therapy recovery with Gotak, who offers him tips and his own experiences. It’s warm, made warmer still by the occasional squeeze of Suho’s hand around his under the table.
By the time a nurse comes out to wheel Suho back in, the sun has fully dipped below the horizon. Baku insists on Suho taking all the snacks back to his hospital room. The three of them leave first, led by Baku slinging both of his arms around Gotak and Juntae, so that it’s just Sieun and Suho again.
“You’re not walking your friends out?” Suho’s voice is more tired than Sieun expects.
He shakes his head simply. “I want to stay with you.”
“Aw. Choosing me over your new friends, Sieun?” There’s a teasing lilt in Suho’s voice. He looks surprised, though, when Sieun immediately nods his head.
“My friends are great, but—” Sieun takes a breath. “They’re not you.”
Suho’s eyes soften in the moonlight. His finger traces light circles on the back of Sieun’s hand. “Even when I’m like this?” he asks softly.
“Even when you’re like this,” Sieun confirms. “Always. I’ll always choose you, Suho.”
Suho blinks once, twice. They’re shiny, Sieun thinks, almost sparkling as they reflect light. Sieun can see himself, small and sincere in Suho’s eyes.
“Ah.” Suho’s eyes dart all over his face, then looks down in his lap. “That’s pretty sappy for you. Is this the real Yeon Sieun? Doesn’t sound very ice princessy to me.”
Sieun scoffs with no heat in his voice. “Don’t tell me you’re going to start saying it, too.”
“Why not? It’s cute. Like you.” Suho looks up and winks boldly at Sieun. Sieun adds wink to his ever-growing mental list of actions Suho can do. Strangely enough, this one is new, not something Suho regularly did pre-coma. Sieun thinks that’s probably a good thing, since it spared his past self’s heart from combusting. No mercy for this heart, though.
“Besides, I can’t let Baku keep that nickname all to himself. You’re letting other guys call you princess, Sieun-ah?”
Sieun pushes his shoulder lightly. Suho only grins wider. “It’s not like that.”
“Good.” Suho fixes a stern look at him. “Remember who you love, and who loves you.”
Sieun can’t even pretend he doesn’t get a rush hearing this. To be sitting with Suho, easily hearing the word love fall from Suho’s lips—in a way, Sieun is almost grateful for everything that happened, because they led him to this moment.
“I only love you,” Sieun says honestly. He enjoys the way Suho’s face drops, his jaw slackening as he stares at Sieun.
“God. How can you say that to me and just go home after? You’re a cruel man, Yeon Sieun.” Suho pouts.
“What about you? Should I pretend not to be affected by you acting territorial over me?” Sieun challenges. They stare at each other, just a hair’s breadth away from the other’s face.
“No. I want to see your reaction.” Suho’s breath fans over his face.
A voice Sieun is beginning to grow very tired of cuts through the air.
“Boys. It is past visiting hours.”
Suho rolls his eyes. Another win for mobility—Sieun adds it to the folder.
“I swear she’s homophobic or something,” Suho mutters as he stands from the table. Sieun stands too, holding out hands to catch Suho, but it’s not needed: Suho walks smoothly from the table to his wheelchair, where the nurse is waiting with both hands on the handles.
“Say your goodbyes, Suho-ssi.” The nurse begins pulling.
Suho and Sieun make eye contact again.
Can you believe her?
I’m getting annoyed, too.
Out loud, Suho says, “Good night, ice princess. My Sieun. I love you.”
Sieun feels his face warm. “Good night, Suho-yah. I love you too.”
Before long, Sieun is crossing through the gate of the hospital grounds. He spots a hospital room’s light and imagines it’s Suho’s room. From that light to the shining stars of Seoul, luminescence follows him all the way up the steps onto the bus and through the streets of Seoul, all the way home.
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
ooh, ooh, ooh
when we go back to strangers
Today, Yeon Sieun graduates high school.
His first thought regarding this day is that he can see Suho earlier than usual. Rather than the 4PM on the weekdays that they’re used to, Sieun can come right after the ceremony, at midday. Knowing his friends, they’ll try to rope him into pictures, so Sieun will stand for a couple—two, maximum—and get going.
“Are you nervous?” Juntae asks. They’re adjusting their graduation gowns in the waiting room before they file into the auditorium. The crumpled room is full of excitement and crying.
“To graduate?”
Juntae nods in the affirmative.
The answer doesn’t come easily to Sieun, surprisingly. He thought he’d be glad to be done with Eunjang, the school he was thrown into when no other would accept him because of his violence record. Juntae seems to think so, too, with the way he watches Sieun carefully.
“I guess . . .” Juntae nods encouragingly, prompting Sieun to continue, “I was always on a track to move towards this goal. Advance in my education by graduating high school and entering a top university.” Sieun takes a look at Juntae. Behind him, through the doors of the waiting room, Baku and Gotak are coming back from their snack run. Their uniforms are somehow more rumpled than Sieun would expect from a five-minute excursion.
“But, thinking about it now, I think my high school experience has become more than that, and I didn’t realize.” He gives Juntae the faintest of smiles, and Juntae returns a wide one of his own.
Juntae chuckles softly. “Thanks to Suho, right?”
Sieun takes a moment to consider this before shaking his head softly. “Of course, Suho is an invaluable part of me, of my youth. But you guys have played a big role, too.” As he’s saying this last part, Baku and Gotak come up behind Juntae, one standing at each of his shoulders.
Facing his friends, Sieun allows himself to smile. “Thank you. For being my friend.”
There’s a pause. Then Baku says brightly, “Don’t even sweat it, Sieun-kun! We weren’t going to let some rumors of a pen-wielder maniac stop us from bringing you into the group!”
Even Gotak looks pleased. “I’m glad too, Sieun. I still regret insulting you, you know.”
Sieun nods lightly. “We’re past that.”
He feels a touch at his arm—Sieun turns his head and finds Juntae looking at him earnestly. “I’m grateful to you, too, Sieun-ah. For helping me stand up for myself when we first met.”
Before Sieun can respond, Baku interrupts him. “This is so touching! Group hug!” And before he can protest, Sieun is swept up in Baku’s arms, squished against Juntae and Gotak.
Sieun lets them enjoy it for three seconds before pushing at Baku’s arm. “Okay, let go,” he grunts.
“No,” Baku responds cheerfully. They keep hugging for another seven seconds before Baku finally lets them all go, but not before giving them all one last, huge squeeze. They all have to smooth down the fronts of their gowns, and by the time Sieun is presentable, they’re being herded out to the auditorium.
The speeches are as interesting as you’d expect a speech from a high school like Eunjang to be, which is not very interesting at all. It passes by uneventfully until the dean begins reading names off of the roster.
Sieun claps as enthusiastically as he can muster when his friends' names are called. Standing on the ramp up the stage, Sieun is third in line. In just a matter of time, Sieun will no longer be a high school student.
As always, his thoughts drift back to Suho. He wonders if Suho is already in the testing room, if he’s stretching his arms and legs out the way he likes to do when he’s in a stiff chair.
Sieun gives a perfunctory sweep over the crowd with his eyes. Then, five seconds before he’s supposed to recite his name to the announcer, he spots him.
A figure stands in the crowd. He’s wearing a grey hoodie and jeans, with a cap on his head and a mask over his lower face. But his eye smile—
Sieun will recognize that eye smile anywhere. He falters on the ramp, eyes never leaving Suho’s in the crowd. Suho is standing there, on his own and unassisted, in the crowd. He’s not alone either. Standing on his right is halmeoni, mirroring his expression of pride. Suho opens his mouth.
“Yeon Sieun,” the announcer’s voice booms.
Suho’s cheer is the first one Sieun hears.
Sieun is out of his seat the moment the graduates are dismissed. He’d tried to stare at Suho and halmeoni during the ceremony, but the crowd was too thick to keep track of them once Sieun got off the stage. Then, the rest of the ceremony was spent worrying if Suho would be okay standing in the throng of people, and marvelling at the fact that Suho was here at all.
He nearly knocks his friends over trying to get to Suho. Sieun cranes his neck, trying to see past the families and friends moving in the auditorium, then—
Like the waves parting for Moses, the crowd diverges around a single boy.
“Suho,” Sieun breathes. He halts to a stop in front of Suho. Sieun has to crane his neck up to look at him. He’s beautiful.
“Hi.” Suho’s grin is bright. “Surprise?”
Belatedly, Sieun realizes that Suho is holding something out to him. He looks down, his mouth dropping into an o shape.
“You brought flowers?”
“Yeah.” He sounds sheepish. “Before you start talking about the impracticality of bringing a bouquet, I just wanted to say—”
“They’re beautiful,” Sieun says earnestly. “Thank you, Suho.”
Suho stops talking, his eyes widening as he stares at Sieun. Through his tousled hair, Sieun can see the reddening tips of his ears.
“Ah. I’m glad you like them.” Suho’s voice is a near-whisper, audible only to the two of them. They’re standing close to each other, with only the bouquet between them stopping them from touching. Up close, Sieun can see every micro-expression and shift on Suho’s face: happiness, anticipation, surprise, adoration. Oh, how clear Suho’s adoration is on his face.
Sieun feels warm. He holds out a hand, but instead of taking the bouquet, he simply rests his hand over Suho’s. “What about your physical therapy?”
“Aw come on, Sieunie, aren’t you glad to see me?” Suho teases. “This is my physical therapy, silly. And my regular therapy, since I get to see you.”
Sieun flushes. “You’re so cheesy,” he murmurs with fondness nearly bursting at his seams. He tugs Suho’s arm aside and steps in, wrapping his arms around Suho’s mid-section. Resting his head on his shoulder, Sieun can hear Suho’s quickened breath and the thundering beneath his pulse.
“Clingy today?” Suho begins rubbing his back through the gown.
“Mm. I’m happy you’re here. Halmeoni too.”
“Of course.” Suho leans his head back and brushes a hair out of Sieun’s face. “I wouldn’t miss your graduation for the world. In the past, I hoped that we would graduate together, but this will do.”
Emotions, big and breathing and alive, crash over Sieun. He feels regret and hope and sorrow and happiness and content all at once. They’re soothed by the warmth radiating off of Suho.
Too soon for Sieun’s liking, they separate. Sieun doesn’t let Suho get very far—he links their arms together, holding the diploma and bouquet in their respective free hands. They turn to face their friends.
During their reunion, it seems halmeoni started some conversation with Sieun’s friends. She looks pleasantly surprised by Baku’s energy and altogether endeared by the three of them. Sieun hears her ask, “You’re Sieunie’s friends, right?”
“Finally!” Baku waves them over. “Let’s all take pictures!”
It’s standing amongst his friends—squished between Suho and Juntae, hearing Baku and Gotak gloating in the back for being taller than the rest, and feeling halmeoni’s hand on his arm as the camera clicks—that Sieun truly realizes his reality.
He’s holding a bouquet and smiling for the camera, really smiling, because he has things to be grateful for. Suho by his side, his friends behind him, all the love in the world contained in these six people; before Sieun realizes it, a tear is rolling down his cheek.
When Juntae gets his phone back from the stranger taking their picture, the rest of them crowd around the phone to take a look. Sieun stays put, feeling his overwhelming love crash over him in steady waves. Suho, as always, stands by Sieun.
“Hey,” Suho says softly. He brings a hand up and cups Sieun’s chin, his thumb brushing softly over his cheek. “Are you crying?”
Sieun sniffles in response. He rubs an eye with his free hand.
Suho stands in front of him fully, his face warped in concern. “Are you okay? Do you want to leave?”
Still choked up, Sieun can only shake his head. He sucks in a big breath and whispers, “I’m really happy right now.”
He can hardly believe it. At the beginning of high school, Sieun had set up thick and impenetrable walls around himself, until one determined boy named Ahn Suho came into his life and barrelled them all down. After the coma, Sieun didn’t know if he’d ever forgive himself, but now it feels like he can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
Under the auditorium lights, Suho’s eyes appear shiny, too. His mouth presses into a line, trying and failing to suppress his smile.
“Aw, Sieunie,” he murmurs before pulling Sieun into a hug. Sieun feels him drop his head onto Sieun’s, pressing his cheek into the crown of his head. It’s nice.
“Man, look at these lovebirds!” Sieun hears Gotak exclaim. He chuckles softly and presses his face closer into Suho’s collarbone.
“Shut up,” Suho responds cheekily. He tightens his hold on Sieun. Like this, standing in Suho’s arms surrounded by his dear friends and halmeoni, Sieun knows he’s right where he needs to be.
when we go back to strangers
Today, Sieun is back on the bus, but he’s not alone. It’s a trend that keeps happening lately, but he thinks this iteration is his favorite: sitting in the sun-soaked bus seat, pressed shoulder to shoulder with Suho. Hands interlocked and resting on his thigh, Sieun rubs his thumb on the back of Suho’s hand.
“Are you nervous?”
“Sieunie.” Suho pouts at him. It’s very cute. “What kind of question is that? Of course I’m nervous! What if I don’t pass, Sieunie?” Suho taps Sieun’s notebook on his lap pitifully, his lower lip jutting out. He looks at Sieun imploringly.
“Then you try again,” Sieun replies simply. “I know you will pass, though.”
Suho whistles (another win!). “You sounded so sure just now. Yeon Sieun doesn’t say these things lightly, so I should heed his words, huh?” He squeezes their joined hands.
Sieun raises an unimpressed eyebrow at him. “You think I’ll let you fail with my tutoring?”
“Yeesh.” Suho throws his head back against the seat and laughs, all pretense of appealing for pity dropped. “Yes, Yeon ssaem. I’ll do my best!” With his free hand, he brings it up to his face in a salute.
Sieun smiles, more fond than he means to. “You better.”
“Sieun. I really think I’m going to die of nerves,” Suho bemoans. He rubs his hands down his face as they stand in front of the testing center. “This might be worse than fighting that punk MMA wannabe.”
“Suho,” Sieun chides. Even if it’s been half a year, the wound is still fresh.
“At least I was good at fighting.” Suho shakes his head at Sieun. “I’m shit at studying.”
Sieun hits his shoulder lightly. “Stop lying. You study just fine, Suho. You’ll pass, I know it, but you’re just making it harder on yourself by needlessly worrying.”
“So harsh.” Suho pouts again. “Then, can I get a reward if I make it out of this testing center alive?”
Sieun raises an eyebrow. “Shouldn’t it be for when you pass?”
Suho shrugs. “Yeah, but I’m an impatient guy. If I wait for a reward once I get my score, it’ll hardly feel like any motivation while I’m in there.” He juts a thumb at the building. “My life is too short to be spent waiting for far-off rewards.”
Shaking his head fondly, Sieun feels a smile grow on his face. “Fine. What kind of reward do you want?”
Unexpectedly, Suho seems to grow shy. He ducks his head, the apples of his cheeks beginning to redden. He mutters something Sieun doesn’t catch.
“What was that? Can you repeat that?”
“I said, can I get a kiss?” Suho looks at him with wide eyes and looks away just as quickly, covering his face with both hands. “God, Sieun, you’re making me more nervous!” Groaning, he stumbles forward and drops his forehead on Sieun’s shoulder. The sudden drop of Suho’s full weight on Sieun makes him stumble.
Sieun brings a hand up and pats his head. “Sure, Suho-yah.”
The speed that Suho whips his head up makes Sieun dizzy. “Really? You mean it? You’ll give me a kiss if I finish the test?”
His face burns. Sieun tries his best to maintain eye contact with Suho anyway. “You have to try your best, too. I don’t kiss losers.”
“You got it, Sieun!” Suho whoops. Then, “Huh? You kiss other people?”
“You know that’s not what I meant,” Sieun grouses, embarrassed. He turns Suho around and pushes his back towards the building. “Now go. I’ll be waiting right here.”
Suho, the dummy, starts walking backwards. “Okay! I’ll be right back! Don’t miss me too much, Sieunie!”
“Turn around!”
“Sieun-ah.”
“Yes?”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Even like this?”
“Especially like this. I don’t care how I’ll have you as long as I have you, Suho-yah.”
“Did I say that I love you? I love you, Yeon Sieun. Forever and always.”
“Not as much as I love you, Ahn Suho. Now come here so I can kiss you.”