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Seungkwan loves Christmas.
He prefers Summer: the way the hot sun feels on his skin, playing volleyball on the outdoor courts and sweating up a storm before coming inside and downing an ice-cold coffee, his skin lightly pink and sun kissed and his body still lingering with warmth. Summer is driving with the windows down and music blasting louder than is probably healthy for his ears, and it’s bingsu and cold noodles as they take refuge from the heat.
Seungkwan thrives in Summer. But, Seungkwan loves Christmas.
He loves spending the holiday back at home; getting to remember all the reasons why he loves Jeju and his family. He gets to eat far too much food and drink enough with his sisters that they start singing along with him when he belts out the tunes that play through the crackly speakers on his mother’s radio. And he does love his family. He adores them. Christmas is one of the only times in the year when he gets to see them all – everyone makes the journey back home from their scattered locations around the country, Jinseol even comes back home from New York and their extended family come to stay at their house. It’s a busy few days, with futons spread along the floors and rooms full of laughter, the smell of tangerines usually filling the air as Seungkwan finds a way to sneak them into every meal he can with his youngest cousin – Minsung.
But Seungkwan is tired.
Not just from the constant buzz of chatter and recounting of stories from the past year since he’s seen his family, but the bone-deep kind of exhaustion that seems to plague him after spending too long around his relatives and not being able to be who they want him to be.
“Ah, Seungkwanie, I did love when you had nice long hair! Do you not miss it?”
“Unnie! Come play volleyball with me!”
“Kwannie recently got a promotion! She got a pay increase too, how exciting is that!”
“Aigoo, Seungkwanie is so well-mannered! You must be so proud of your three daughters!”
It’s not as if they can help it.
They don’t know.
Seungkwan hasn’t had the guts to tell them. Most of the time he doesn’t have to think about the fact that his family don’t know he’s trans. They don’t see each other most of the year. He honestly thinks there is almost no point in causing the drama that coming out to them would bring. It is just easier to let it all wash over him for a couple of days a year. For a couple of days a year, he can play the doting youngest daughter.
But, it is tiring.
He’s sat out on the back veranda of his mother’s house when his phone starts ringing in his pocket. He hasn’t had the chance to look at it all day, being tossed between a shopping trip with his aunty, and a beach volleyball venture with his younger cousins, and then a final dinner with the whole family before they all started leaving the next day and returning to their every day lives. Jinseol had spent the last hour making some sort of mulled wine she'd learnt about in the States, and he's now nursing a mug of it in hand, small pieces of tangerines bobbing up and down amongst the dark red liquid.
His whole body relaxes as he spots the name flashing on his phone, and he quickly swipes his thumb across the screen and brings it to his ear.
“Sollie…”
Hansol must hear something in his voice. Or he just knows. He has a tendency of just knowing.
“Hey, love. Busy day?”
The roughness in Hansol’s voice suggests that he’s had a busy day too. He’s probably spent the day chasing after his own family, trying to play the role of the oldest cousin and help his family pull the babies into line. He sounds tired.
“Pretty busy, yeah,” Seungkwan sighs. He places the mug down on the wooden decking next to his thigh and rests his chin on the hand he’s got propped on one knee. “I got my ass handed to me in a game with Minsungie and Soobinie today. Never knew middle schoolers could be such fierce volleyball players.”
A soft chuckle rings through the phone line. “Must be genetics. I think I know another Boo family member who’s pretty vicious on the court.”
Seungkwan grins, absentmindedly twirling a piece of his fringe between his fingers, likely leaving himself with an odd spiral of a fringe. “I couldn’t possibly know who you mean. Jinseol? Sojeong?”
Vernon’s chuckle turns into a full squeak of a laugh at that and god, Seungkwan has missed that sound. They’ve only been apart for a week, but Seungkwan feels like half of himself is currently in Seoul, held hostage by this man.
“I miss you.”
It’s barely a whisper, more of a breath, but it still brings a pause to Hansol’s laughter. There’s a moment of silence before he hums through the phone line.
“I miss you too. How are you holding up?”
Seungkwan shrugs before he remembers Hansol can’t see him, “I’m okay.” He continues before Hansol can call him on the half-lie, releasing the hair between his fingers and propping his chin on his hand again. “I’m tired. It’s…difficult…you know?”
“Yeah, of course. Have you enjoyed it at all?”
“Of course I have,” Seungkwan sighs, pouting just a little bit. “You know that. I missed everyone – I haven’t seen halmeoni since last year and she made the best soup – oh my god, Sollie, I wish I could get you this soup. You’d love it.”
“And the babies are all getting so big now, it was fun seeing them all. Jinseol almost skewered my aunt when she started suggesting that she should hurry up and have her own kids.” Seungkwan's laughter bubbles out of him as the murderous look on his sister’s face pops back into his memory.
“I’m surprised she survived. That’s practically a death wish,” Hansol says, snorting as he speaks. Something catches in his breath and he continues quickly, “Oh, Sof wants to say hi. Do you-?”
“Chwe Hansol, put your sister on the phone right now.”
Another loud squeak of laughter came before there was a rustling of the phone and another familiar voice came through the speaker.
“Oppa! I miss you! How’s your Christmas been?”
Seungkwan finds himself grinning again, his heart warming at the sound of Sofia’s voice. She’s always been his favourite Chwe (alright, maybe that’s a tad of an exaggeration, but Hansol has had to fight for that spot).
“It’s been good! I miss you too, Sofia. You’ll have to come over when I’m back – we can kick Hansol out for a night and watch movies.”
“That sounds perfect. Lock it in! I’ll find a date and text it to you. You’re back tomorrow, right?”
“I am. We’ve got plenty of time before you go back to college.”
There was a pause from the other side of the line and Seungkwan could hear Hansol’s muffled voice say something in English before Sofia let out a whine of protest. “Ugh, Hansol is being mean. He says I can’t come over tomorrow.”
Seungkwan muffles his giggle with a hand before replying, “Look, Sof, I might have to agree with him there. I love you, but I do want to spend some time with my boyfriend-“
“Gross ass homosexuals,” Sofia groans, and Seungkwan ends up folded over from how hard he laughs. “I haven’t seen you for months and he gets to keep you to himself? That’s misogynistic.”
Seungkwan’s laughter is loud enough that he misses whatever Hansol says next, but soon enough the drawl of his boyfriend’s voice is louder in his ear than Sofia’s is, so he guesses that Hansol stole his phone back. Seungkwan can hear Sofia complaining in the background in English too fast for him to catch, and Hansol shoots back a response that reeks of his brand of dry sarcasm that Seungkwan can only guess gets Sofia to leave.
“Sorry. I don’t understand how she has so much energy still.”
Seungkwan shakes his head, his eyes tracing over the streetlights in the distance as he speaks. “No, Sollie, it’s okay. I love Sofia, she’s funny. It’ll be good to see her again.”
Hansol sighs loudly and there is a ruffle of activity before the sound on the other end settles again.
“What are you up to?”
“Nothing. Just lying in bed, I locked the door to keep Sofia out. I’ll sleep soon – ‘m tired.”
“You should, you’ve had a busy few days too,” Seungkwan says softly, closing his eyes. If he tries hard enough he can almost imagine he’s wrapped up in bed too, cuddling up into Hansol’s side. “I can’t wait to come home.”
A soft hum comes from Hansol. “Same. You should try and get some sleep.”
“I guess,” Seungkwan breathes, his eyes still closed. “Noonas will probably want to stay up talking all night.” He takes a deep breath, hating the fact he can feel his eyes prickling. “I just want to be with you…that makes me a terrible sis-“ He lets out a sharp breath, “-sibling, doesn’t it?”
He hates himself for the way he stumbles over his words. He feels less himself than he has in months and he's only been back a week.
“Seungkwan…you couldn’t possibly be a terrible brother. It’s only fair that you want to be home. Just because you don’t want to be around…that anymore doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.” Hansol’s voice is soft in his ear, impossibly understanding and patient. “You’re a good son, a good brother, and quite literally the best boyfriend ever. I should know.”
Seungkwan hides his smile against his hand, words not coming nearly as easily as the sting of tears in his eyes. Hansol clearly reads his lack of reply as what it is.
“I love you, Boo. And your family does too. And you’re valid in your feelings – all of them. You’re literally the bravest person I know; I don’t know how you manage it.”
Sniffing, Seungkwan lets out a soft whine as he wipes at his eyes. “Chwe Hansol,“ he huffs, his voice crackling slightly. “God damn it.”
There is a moment where Hansol must just hear Seungkwan’s sniffling and heavy breathing, but he listens as patiently as ever.
“Fuck-“ Seungkwan laughs as he cries, looking up at the sky in an attempt to stop the tears. “How dare you make me cry when you can’t hold me, Chwe.”
“Soon, Boo. Tomorrow.”
“Yeah…”
“I love you.”
“I love you too.” Seungkwan takes a deep, shuddering breath as his tears slow to a stop. “Okay, you need sleep. I might try and sneak into the bedroom and fall asleep before Sojeong and Jinseol come in, they’ll hopefully let me sleep then.”
“Okay, babe. Call me if you can’t sleep?”
“I’m not doing that.”
“Seungkwan.”
He huffs a sigh, “Hansol.”
“Call me. I’ll leave my phone on.”
God, he loves this stupid man.
“Okay.”
“Promise?”
“Cross my heart.”
There’s a pause and Seungkwan can practically see Hansol’s sharp nod of approval at his concession. The picture brings a smile to his lips.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Sollie.”
“See you tomorrow, Kwanie. Sweet dreams.”
**
Seungkwan is almost sleepwalking by the time he manages to shove the key into the lock and open the door to his apartment. It’s just past 8pm, later than he’d wanted to get back but a morning of running after his family and then a delayed flight back to Seoul all added up to a longer day than he’d intended.
He drops his bag at the door, slips off his shoes, and takes in the apartment. It’s dark, the lights throughout have all been switched off, and the only noise is the muffled sounds of the streets out of their poorly sealed windows. Taking a deep breath, Seungkwan moves through the apartment, stifling a yawn as he peers into his and Hansol’s shared office. It’s empty as well, leaving only one place where his boyfriend could be hiding.
“Hansol?” Seungkwan calls softly as he opens the door to their bedroom, tired eyes searching.
The room is illuminated only by the lamp on Hansol’s bedside table, which casts a muted yellow light over the room, and the screen of his laptop. Hansol is in bed with his laptop skewed to one side, having fallen off his lap as he had curled in on himself in his sleep. His face is peaceful, eyes shut and his mouth open just slightly, the gentle movement of his chest the only hint of life in the boy. Seungkwan can see Finding Nemo playing on the laptop screen, though it’s barely reached the halfway point in the movie.
Seungkwan bites at his lip, fighting the overwhelming amount of love that floods through his chest and resisting the urge to just jump on top of his boyfriend. Instead, he quietly moves the laptop to safety, pausing the movie as he does, and leans over to carefully remove the headphones from Hansol’s head.
He pauses as he does, brushing the hair from Hansol’s forehead in a gentle stroke. His fingers linger for a moment and his heart clenches in his chest the way it always tends to around Hansol. Eventually, he continues, placing the headphones on top of the laptop on his bedside table, and Seungkwan floats around the room as he readies himself for bed. It takes longer than normal as he routinely finds himself just stuck mid-movement, watching his boyfriend with a stupid smile playing on his lips and that familiar ache in his chest.
He's dressed in one of Hansol’s oversized hoodies with his clothes and binder discarded on the floor to deal with when he’s not about to fall over from exhaustion, in the bathroom running a washcloth over his face when he hears movement behind him and a tired grunt of surprise. Then, a pair of arms wrap around his waist and a face buries itself into his shoulder, and Seungkwan feels like his heart might burst.
“You’re home.” Hansol’s voice is thick and gravelly with sleep as the boy drags his cheek against the line of Seungkwan’s shoulder.
Seungkwan lets out a hum of acknowledgement, putting down his facecloth and patting one of the hands around his waist, “Morning, sleepy head.”
Hansol grumbles something unintelligible into Seungkwan shoulder before pressing a kiss there, the feeling muffled by the hoodie. “You should’ve woken me up.”
“I was going to after, when I was ready for bed,” Seungkwan explains as he dots his face with moisturiser, allowing himself to lean back into Hansol’s embrace a little. He smiles as Hansol’s hands venture under the hoodie, warm and soft against his skin. He rests his hands on Seungkwan’s stomach, almost cradling the slight pudge of his lower belly in his palms, and he starts absentmindedly rubbing small circles into the skin with his thumbs. He stands a little straighter so he can bury his face against Seungkwan’s neck, the cold skin at the tip of his nose leaving little goosebumps in its path.
“You must’ve been tired to fall asleep so early.”
“Mm, yeah. Mum wanted to go shopping today – said I needed more clothes.”
Seungkwan giggles, tilting his head so his temple meets the crown of Hansol’s head and nuzzling into the contact a little. “I mean, she’s not wrong. You’ve had half your closet since high school, Sollie.”
“If it fits and doesn’t have holes in it, why would I get rid of it,” Hansol grumbles, his words slurring together slightly. He tightens his arms around Seungkwan’s waist, his nose tracing the line of Seungkwan’s neck. “You smell good.”
“Really?” Seungkwan laughs. “I should smell like airports and planes.”
There is a barely audible hum of protest from Hansol before he speaks. “You always smell good.”
Seungkwan pats the hands around his waist and attempts to turn in the embrace. “Let me hug you,” he mumbles, and Hansol goes easily, relaxing his arms enough for Seungkwan to turn around. Seungkwan traces his palms up Hansol’s biceps, across his shoulders and tangles his fingers in the hair at Hansol’s nape, his thumbs stroking at the soft skin just below his ears.
“Hey.”
Hansol’s lips twitch up and Seungkwan watches as his eyes trace over Seungkwan’s whole face, taking him in.
“Hey,” he eventually replies, shifting and smoothing his hands along Seungkwan’s lower back until he has a hip cupped in either palm, his thumbs tracing lightly at the dimples in his skin. “Missed you. Have you had dinner?”
Seungkwan nods, reaching one hand to play with Hansol’s earlobe gently, “Yeah, just airport food. But I’m good. Just want to sleep.”
Hansol nods and Seungkwan lets out a deep breath, the smile on his lips faltering. He gives in, stepping impossibly closer to Hansol and tilting his face up to bury himself in the warm, soft skin of his neck. Hansol’s hands drift from his hips, his palms dragging warm lines up to the small of Seungkwan’s back. His fingers trace along Seungkwan’s spine in soothing lines that have Seungkwan all but melting into him. He lets out a deep, shuddering breath and buries his face further into the crook of Hansol’s neck.
They stand like that for a while. The gentle stroke of Hansol’s fingers along his back occasionally pressing deeper, easing the aches left by Seungkwan’s binder; the drag of Seungkwan’s nose against Hansol’s throat and the little, fairy light kisses he leaves in his wake; the thrum of their hearts beating together for the first time in a week. Hansol’s cheek is resting against Seungkwan’s temple, so he only speaks in a whisper when he eventually breaks the peace.
“’M proud of you.”
Seungkwan takes another deep, heavy breath. Hansol just knows him too well.
“It just sucks,” he whispers back.
Hansol’s nod is slight, but the way it rustles his hair against Seungkwan’s cheek is comforting.
“I wish I could tell them. I just…I can’t. It’ll be too much. It’s just easier this way. Which is fucked up.”
“They love you. They still would, even if you told them.”
“You’re probably right. It’s just…” he struggles for words, but Hansol nods again.
“Yeah.”
“I’ll do it one day,” Seungkwan says, though he isn’t sure how true it is even as the words leave his mouth. “I can’t keep pretending. I don’t…I don’t want something to happen to them and for them to never know.”
Hansol drags a hand up his back until his fingers weave into Seungkwan hair, his nails lightly scrapping at his scalp. “Whatever you decide.” The rest of the sentence is unsaid, but Seungkwan knows.
I’m here.
Whatever you decide, I’m here.
He tilts his chin up slightly, pressing a kiss to the soft skin of Hansol’s neck.
“Bed?”
Seungkwan nods but mourns the loss of Hansol’s arms around him as he steps back. The feeling doesn’t last for long though as Hansol immediately reaches out a hand, tangling their fingers together and pulling Seungkwan after him as they move back to their bedroom.
They slip under the sheets and Seungkwan spoons himself into Hansol’s side, his head coming to rest above his heart with one leg tangled between Hansol’s own. Their hands lay on Hansol’s stomach, still intertwined, while Hansol’s other hand plays with Seungkwan’s hair. His fingers are gentle, their soft touch lulling Seungkwan toward sleep.
“Eomma says hi, by the way,” he mumbles, eyes blinking open as he remembers. He tilts his head up and meets Hansol’s eyes as he peers down at him. “She wants you to come next Christmas.”
Hansol hums, tucking a lock of Seungkwan’s hair carefully behind his ear. “She might have to fight with my mother. I think she wants to take us all back to the States next year,” he says, a smirk playing on his lips.
Seungkwan perks up at this, bracing himself on his forearm so he can see Hansol’s face better, “Wait, seriously?”
Nodding, Hansol reaches up absentmindedly, cupping Seungkwan’s cheek in his hand as he speaks, his eyes baring deep into Seungkwan in that way that leaves him feeling completely exposed. “Yeah. She keeps hinting that gay marriage is legal there and that I should get my act together.”
Seungkwan snorts, dropping his forehead onto Hansol’s chest. His grin tints his voice as he speaks, “She’s silly. We can get married here. Why would we go all the way over there to do it?”
“Well…you’d be you if we got married there,” Hansol musses, his voice light. “Here…well, you’re you, but legally…”
“It’d be a straight marriage,” Seungkwan says for him, his nose wrinkling at the thought as he props himself back up and meets Hansol’s gaze. “Gross. Maybe she has a point.”
Hansol laughs, soft squeaks that shake his chest and bring a hopeless smile to Seungkwan’s lips.
“Can’t give the win to the straights,” Hansol says, a playful smile dancing on his lips.
Seungkwan grins, tapping his fingers where they sit against Hansol’s chest, “Sofia would be furious if we did.”
They settle into a peaceful lull of silence. Seungkwan takes Hansol in: the gentle slope of his nose, the way his eyes crinkle slightly at their edges when his lips quirk up at something he must see in Seungkwan’s own expression. Hansol’s eyes trace over Seungkwan as well, and Seungkwan wonders what he sees when he looks at him like that; like he’s peeling back every layer of Seungkwan’s skin and taking in his very soul. As if Seungkwan is the only thing in his universe, and like nothing else could ever be as interesting.
Seungkwan reaches a hand up, tapping at the tip of Hansol’s nose. When their eyes meet again, Hansol smiles – the same boyish grin that Seungkwan came to love all those years ago in what feels like a different lifetime – and he feels like he’s falling in love all over again. Pitching forward, Seungkwan brings their lips together, his eyes slipping shut as Hansol’s hand comes up to cup at his jaw.