Chapter Text
I’ve found what I’ve been looking for,
A love that’s meant for me, a heart that’s mine completely.
Sieun’s the one to bring it up, in his own way.
They’re an hour and a half into their video chat when he mentions the semester ending and campus clearing out.
“Most people go home,” he says. “It’ll be quiet at least.”
“You’ll be alone?”
It’s only been a few months since he left Korea and moved to the other side of the planet because he has genius-levels of intelligence that got him into one of the top schools in North America. He’d waffled back and forth over the decision for months, before asking Suho what he thought. It had been one of the harder things in Suho’s life, swallowing the selfish part of him that wanted Sieun to stay and telling him to go take this adventure, but he’s glad for it. He misses Sieun ferociously, but they video chat, and he’s happy to see Sieun so obviously enjoying his studies.
“Mm,” he hums a yes. “It’s fine.”
“What are you even gonna do the whole time?”
“Read.” He shrugs.
Suho huffs a laugh, of course. “Wish it wasn’t so far so you could come home.”
Sieun’s quietly fidgety for a moment after that. “Or you could come here.”
Suho perks up, propping himself up on against the pillows to get a better look at the screen. “Would you want me to?”
Sieun looks away from the screen. “You don’t have to,” he evades. “I know it’s expensive.”
It is expensive. But he and Halmeoni haven’t dipped into the settlement money much at all. He’s tried to get her to use some of it for the repairs around the house, but she says it’s his money, that she won’t touch it. He kept telling her that he didn’t have any use for it on his own, he’s still not going to college and… it’s a lot of money, but spending it on this seems like the perfect choice.
Plus, he’s trying to do new things these days. Having a near-death experience will put a lot into perspective and seeing America would be cool. Seeing Sieun would be even better.
“Of course I’ll come,” he says. “You’re sure it’s okay?”
Sieun nods, excitement lighting up his eyes even as he fights to keep calm. Suho doesn’t even try, lets a big smile stretches across his face without care. He books the flight 2 hours later.
It’s hard to believe that was already months ago. Once they had plans in place, their calls were taken up with conversations about what they would do during the trip, what kind of shoes Suho should bring, and the endless requests for souvenirs from their friends.
Now he’s stuck trying to stretch out his legs without kicking the woman in the seat next to him. 12 hours sitting in a cramped, economy seat would be hard on anyone, and despite the surgeries and all the physical therapy, Suho’s back still seizes up from time to time. It’s brutal. It’s the kind of torture he’d only endure for one person.
Mercifully, his first flight does end. He’s got a quick layover, during which he texts Halmeoni, tells her he landed safely and grabs a coffee from the place just outside of the customs line. It’s extra sweet, and there’s a big, blue moose on the cup. He sips on it while he wanders like a zombie around the shops until he gets to his gate, and then it’s time to board for the short 45-minute flight to the regional airport in Sieun’s college town.
It’s freezing when they deplane. Sieun told him about the weather here, but it’s more biting than Suho expected. He hurries inside and takes a second to orient himself and shake off the chill, stopping in the bathroom to pee and fix his hair with some water.
He’s a little nervous.
Obviously, he knows that Sieun will be excited to see him, he wouldn’t have asked him to come otherwise. But still. It’s the first time they’ve seen each other in months. It reminds him of what it was like after he just woke up. The doctors insisted on waiting a few days for him to get used to speaking, using his hands, again, and the wait was agonizing. Then, when they cleared him to have visitors, it suddenly felt too soon. He needed more time, didn’t want Sieun to see him yet.
In the end, he reminds himself, it was fine. A little emotionally intense, but he needed Sieun then, and he needs him now, too. Probably always does.
After shaking it off, he walks down the hall, following the signs for baggage claim and rideshare and exiting near the security gate. It’s a small airport, but he’s still not expecting to see Sieun right at the bottom of the stairs, waiting and watching for him. It makes his heart jump. Nervousness forgotten, he rushes down the stairs and nearly launches himself at him. It punches a soft laugh out of Sieun and that makes Suho laugh too, even if he sort of wants to cry.
He really missed him.
Suho lets his duffle bag fall to the floor and gives Sieun another squeeze. He smells like plane air, and he needs to brush his teeth, but Sieun still digs his face into his neck like he can’t get enough.
“Sieun-ah,” Suho says when he pulls back, holding him at arm’s length to get a good look at him. “Did you grow? Since when are you so tall?”
“I’m wearing boots,” Sieun says, still smiling.
“Ah, is that it?”
An announcement plays through the airport and Sieun jolts like he’s remembering himself. “Was your flight okay?” he asks.
Suho’s grinning back at him like a lunatic. “It was fine, don’t worry about me. How about you? Have you been well?”
“Mhm.”
He looks it. Sieun’s grown up in recent years, a little taller, shoulders broad and legs stocky, sturdy in a way that still catches Suho by surprise sometimes.
Suho peels his eyes away and makes a show of looking around them. “Wow, so this is what America’s like?”
“It’s just the airport, Suho.”
“Take me somewhere, then,” he says. “Show me around.”
“Don’t you have a bag?”
“Just this, let’s go.”
Outside the airport, there’s a bus stop that they shiver at for 10 minutes until they get on board. Sieun taps his card for the both of them, and they plop down in seats near the back. Suho drops his head onto Sieun’s shoulder as soon as they take off. With his eyes closed they could be back in Seoul, riding the express bus through the city.
“Are you tired?” Sieun asks.
“Mm,” Suho confirms. “Hungry.”
Sieun huffs. “Of course.”
“I’ve been looking forward to American food for the whole flight, Sieunnie, take me out to dinner.”
“It’s 10 AM.”
“Yeah, but it’s late back home. My stomach doesn’t know the difference.”
Sieun sighs. “What do you want?”
“Surprise me,” Suho says with a smile. “I wanna go to your favorite place.”
Sieun’s favorite place is the cafeteria near his dorm, which Suho outright vetoes, so they end up at a brunch place that Sieun says is popular with students. It’s got a 50’s retro American vibe and they serve pancakes the size of his head, it’s perfect. Suho orders the ‘short stack’ and douses them in two types of syrup. While he eats, he tells Sieun about the trip, fills him in on the gossip from Halmeoni’s aerobics class, and shows him the video he took of Baku and Gotak at Noraebang the other day.
When he runs out of stories, Sieun tells him about his classes, reports on the status of his exams, all passed with ease, of course.
Suho eats until he can’t anymore, and even pawns off a few bites to Sieun, who only ordered an omelette for himself, then wrestles him for the check, sticking his tongue out like a kid when he wins.
The sun’s high in the sky as they leave, and the warmth plus the food and having Sieun nearby makes him feel a little dopey with happiness. It all feels a little dreamlike.
Sieun’s dorm is in an old, white brick building just down a short slope near the lake. Inside, there’s a wall of mailboxes to their left, and an unmanned desk with a note telling students to Enjoy the holidays!
They walk in a little further and take the elevator up to the third floor where there’s a bulletin board with a bunch of little graphics on how to de-stress during finals week. Then Sieun leads him down the hall to a door with a whiteboard on it. There are short messages on it and a few crude drawings. Sieun opens the door and walks in, stopping after a few steps.
“I thought you were leaving,” he says to the room.
“Oh, Sieun, hey!”
Suho peeks in. There’s a tall guy packing a bag on one of the beds who Suho assumes is Sieun’s roommate, Christopher.
“Hi,” Suho says, waving a little.
“Hey, man,” he holds out a hand for him to shake. “I’m Chris, it’s cool to meet you.”
Suho nods in response. He really should’ve brushed up on his English before coming. “Nice to meet you. I’m Suho.”
“I recognize you,” Chris says, faltering a little when he realizes he’s talking too fast. “Uh, I saw you on FaceTime. On Sieun’s computer.”
“Oh! Right.” He does his best to come up with something else to say, floundering for a second before Sieun saves him.
“Are you staying tonight?”
“Nah, I’ll be out of your hair in a minute, man, don’t worry.” He sends Sieun a wink. “Ran late coming from Taylor’s.”
“Okay,” Sieun says.
Chris goes back to his suitcase, zipping it up and setting it to the right of the door. “You guys going to the game tonight?”
“Game?” Suho asks, looking to Sieun. What game?
“You gotta go, man, it’s gonna be huge. First playoff game of the season,” Chris says, throwing a coat and shoes on.
“It’s American Football,” Sieun explains.
“There’s a game tonight?” He’s surprised Sieun hasn’t mentioned it.
Sieun shrugs and moves inside to the desk to set his things down.
Chris looks between them for a second. “Cool, well, have fun,” he says. “I’m heading out while the roads are open. See you after break, Sieun.”
“Bye.” Sieun’s still puttering with his things.
“He seems nice,” Suho says after Chris has shut the door behind him.
“He’s fine.”
“What, is he noisy or something?”
“No.”
Suho hums. He takes a second then to look around the room. It’s small, divided into two halves: Sieun’s side and Chris’s side.
On Sieun’s side, there’s a dresser near the door, then the bed, which is pushed up to the window on the other side of the room, and his desk next to it. It’s all tidy, bed made and books stacked neatly. On the desk, Sieun’s got photos taped up along the edges. There’s one of all of them together that first day that he visited Suho after he woke up, and he’s got one from before then, with the guys, all dressed in hanbok.
There’s also a framed picture of just the two of them, one of the photobooths they did while walking home one night. They’d decided on a layout of one big photo; in it, Suho’s got his face pressed so tightly to Sieun’s that their cheeks are a little smushed. You can’t see it in the frame, but he’d wrapped both arms around Sieun’s waist and pulled him in. He’d been a little embarrassed after, but Sieun kept sneaking peeks at it while they finished their walk. Suho’s chest glows warm with the knowledge that he’d liked it enough to frame it here.
His laptop’s resting on the desk too, it’s got a piece of tape on it with Yeon Sieun written in Sharpie.
“You don’t use your English name?” Suho asks.
“Why would I do that?”
Suho just shrugs. He pulls open one of Sieun’s textbooks and leafs through it, retaining nothing.
“So, are we going to the game?” he asks.
“Do you want to?”
“I want to do what you like to do! Show me around, I wanna meet your friends.” There’s a thick feeling rising in his throat that he pushes down. “You have friends, right?”
Sieun rolls his eyes. “I have friends.”
“Okay, well, are they still here? Let’s see them.”
“They’re… tailgating.”
Suho blinks.
“Huh?”
“They’re at a different dorm. Hanging out.”
“Oh, well are we not invited?”
Sieun exhales. “I’ll text them.”
They don’t have to walk too far, Sieun’s friends are just one building over in a newer, bigger dorm. This one is brighter and busier, with at least 2 more floors. They make their way up the stairs and down a hallway. Sieun opens the door when they arrive and walks right in.
“Sieun!” A guy shouts. He’s about a head shorter than Suho, built like a soccer player, and he’s got dark hair that nearly brushes his eyes. He stands up with some difficulty and comes over to clap a hand on Sieun’s shoulder. “I knew we’d get you to one of these before the semester was over.” He pauses, pointing at the gap in Sieun’s coat. “Where’s your ugly sweater?”
“Hi,” Sieun says.
“Sieun!” someone whines. “You didn’t wear a sweater?”
Sieun ignores them and moves to let Suho step in further.
“Oh, hey! This is your friend, right? Suho?”
Suho startles a little. He’s not sure why he didn’t expect Sieun to tell his friends about him.
“Hi,” Suho echoes Sieun. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Angelo,” the guy says, then turns to point at the rest of the group gathered in the room. “That’s Matt, Jenna, Talia, and Marcus.”
Suho waves as the others offer short greetings. He’ll be lucky to remember 2 of their names, he thinks. To his left, Sieun’s slipping his shoes and coat off, so Suho does the same, following him in and taking up a spot on the floor with the rest of the group.
Whatever they had been talking about sort of dies out as they join, and Suho shifts in the quiet. After a minute, one of the girls — Talia, he thinks — turns to him.
“Annyeong!” she says, a little nervously.
Suho perks up. Sieun never mentioned any of his friends knowing Korean on their calls.
“You can speak Korean?” he asks.
“No,” Sieun says. It’s quiet, but Talia can clearly understand him well enough by the way she blushes.
“I’m trying to learn it, sort of,” she says. She tucks her hair behind her ears, untucks it. “It’s really hard.”
He's heard that. That it's hard for English-speakers. It's nice that Sieun has people here who try for him anyway.
“You should say something,” he pushes.
She sits up a little, and Angelo nods her way with a wink. Then she asks Suho a question that he cannot, for the life of him, decode.
It starts with an ’s,’ he knows that for sure. Skirt, maybe? Spit? ‘Do you see my skirt?’ Suho tilts his head, smiling still. He doesn’t want to embarrass her, but he’s at a loss. In a last-ditch effort, he looks to Sieun for help.
“What are your hobbies?” Sieun dutifully translates.
“Oh!”
“Sorry,” Talia says with a frown.
“No, no, you did good!”
She still looks really embarrassed. Suho nudges Sieun.
“Good job,” Sieun adds.
They give up on the Korean lesson after that, instead pivoting to trade stories about final exams and more friends whose names Suho's brain doesn't retain.
They make sure to ask Suho a few questions too, and Sieun helps him with the words he forgets or doesn’t know when he responds, but mostly he’s content to just listen. It’s kindd of funny, seeing Sieun among all these new people, a bit like when he first met the guys from Eunjang. They all seem nice, but there’s still that sting of jealousy whenever he remembers that these people get to see Sieun every day. He hopes they know how good they have it.
A while later, they make their way to the stadium. The inner part of the building’s already packed, and Angelo leads them through the crowd in a weaving pattern toward the student section.
“I think Liam saved us a few spots, but we might have to squeeze,” he tells them as they walk down the bleachers to join another new face who’s waving his hands at them. On their way, they pass students in Santa hats and fake beards, lots of garish holiday sweaters, and at least 2 Grinches.
The stadium is massive, bigger than any Suho’s ever been to, with jumbotrons on either side, near the goalposts and lights that illuminate the field in red. It’s freezing, but packed into the stands there’s enough heat from the other bodies pressing against them. Suho sort of assumes they’ll sit when the game starts, but they never do, instead standing — and, at times, jumping — all through the first quarter.
The whole thing is a big production, with music and videos and a light show as the teams come out and at every time out. He asks Sieun a few times about the rules, but he doesn’t seem to know either, so eventually Suho gives up and decides to just watch and pick up what he can. A few times Angelo throws an arm around his shoulder when their team scores and Suho laughs as he gets shaken around, even passing it along to Sieun the next time they kick the ball over the goalpost, ruffling his hair when Sieun levels him with an unimpressed look.
At halftime, the band comes out and performs, followed by a group of girls who do an elaborate dance, which Talia shrieks for. One of her friends is on the team, Sieun explains. The second half feels longer, and colder. The crowd thins out as the temperature dips and the gap between the score gets larger.
“It’s a blowout,” Angelo says with a whistle.
Suho gets the gist, nods. It’s 42-3, with their team in the lead.
“Should we ditch?” he continues, looking down their row at Sieun and Talia too.
“What time does the Sigma Phi thing start?” someone asks.
Angelo shrugs.
“You guys are coming, right?” Talia asks Sieun. Then she turns to Suho, eyes flitting back to Sieun again like she can’t help it. “Going to a party?”
This time he gets it loud and clear. “Nice!” He high-fives her and watches a furious blush break out over her cheeks. She’s pretty. He wonders whether Sieun thinks so too.
“You want to go?” Sieun asks.
“Sure,” Suho says. “Why? Are you too tired?”
“No.”
“Okay, then let’s go!”
Sieun doesn’t say anything, but he does turn back to his friends and nod.
“Sweet,” Angelo says.
Suho hangs back by Angelo on their walk over to ‘the Sigma Phi thing,’ and tries to keep up a conversation with him, letting Sieun take up the lead with Talia and watching them from behind. They’d be cute together. She’s smaller than him in height, with thick curves that balance out the long curly hair that reaches down to her upper back. He has no idea what Sieun’s type is, but she’s the kind of girl that anyone would like, really. He tries to imagine the two of them together, and feels a sudden, mild sting of anxiety at the thought of Sieun dating here. Like if he finds someone here, maybe he’ll never come home.
The thought turns his stomach to rot, makes him feel like a shitty friend. Because as much as he wants Sieun to be happy here, he doesn’t want him to be happier than he is back home. Fears losing Sieun to this place forever. Doesn’t think he could stand it.
It’s still early in the night, but the party is in full motion when they arrive. Suho’s pretty sure Angelo’s been tipping back more than soda in his thermos since the game, and he guesses it’s the same for everyone here.
Music is pounding through the house and they have to shout just to hear each other.
“Should we get drinks?” Angelo asks.
Sieun nods.
"Do you think they have beer?" Talia asks.
Angelo looks at her like she’s insane.
“Yes,” Sieun says.
She chews on the corner of her lip. “Get me one?” she asks Sieun.
Sieun’s brow creases in a tiny furrow. “Okay,” he replies.
Jesus — Suho laughs a little as Sieun and Angelo walk toward the kitchen — Sieun is a terrible flirt. Talia’s got her work cut out.
“You’re not getting a drink?” she asks while the two of them wait.
“I can’t,” Suho says. “I have a head—”
“A headache?”
He shakes his head, “I hit my head,” he goes with.
“Oh, like a concussion?”
Suho nods.
Talia’s eyes turn genuinely sad. “I’m sorry,” she says.
“It’s okay!” he rushes to tell her. She’s really nice. “I like your sweater,” he says after a minute, for something to say. It’s red with a reindeer’s head on it, and the felt antlers are covered with little colorful pompoms. Ugly Christmas Sweater was the theme for the game, Sieun told him during the third quarter.
“Really?” She asks.
“Yeah! It’s cute.”
“What’s cute?” Angelo asks. He and Sieun are back, each with two drinks in their hands. Sieun’s staring at Suho.
“Ooh, is that my drink?” Talia asks Sieun instead of answering.
“It’s cola.” Sieun hands it to Suho.
“Oh.”
“This one’s yours, T,” Angelo hands her a red, plastic cup and takes a sip out of his own, side-eyeing Sieun. Suho can’t even blame him. Anyone with eyes can see how much Talia likes him, and he’s acting like she’s barely there. It’s weird.
The moment passes uncomfortably, but with the three of them drinking, the iciness melts away not long after. They banter for a while about a show that Suho’s never seen, then take turns trying to tell him the storyline, but they keep mixing up the order of events and talking over each other until Suho’s not sure if it takes place in space or underground, and he’s too entertained to stop them and ask.
They’re headed back into the kitchen, empty cups in tow, when Angelo notices the ping-pong table is free and pulls them all into a game of Beer Pong. Suho’s hand-eye-coordination is shit, but Angelo tells him not to worry, stage-whispers in his ear that it’s a setup anyway and Suho’s not sure what that means, but Sieun says he’ll drink for him, and tipsy Sieun is already so adorable that Suho can’t say no.
The game’s fun. They all get pretty into it. Even Sieun is smiling and getting louder every time the ball lands in one of their cups, the alcohol splaying a light flush on his skin.
Sieun and Talia win the first game, and it devolves from there. They each take turns trying different trick shots, and Angelo and Sieun nerd out over the correct degree of curvature to get the ball to land just right.
Angelo lands the next one in Talia’s beer, and he shouts out in victory, pointing at her and demanding she “chug it.” Suho laughs and joins in too, just because. She rolls her eyes and lifts the cup in a cheers, then tips her head back, gulping her drink down. She’s almost done when she falters and starts to fall backward, feet stumbling. Sieun moves quick, wrapping a hand around her waist to steady her as she finishes. Suho’s smile freezes on his face. Sieun keeps his eyes on her face while she drinks, makes sure she’s okay when she’s done. He’s still holding her hip.
Angelo nudges Suho, raising his brows. “Come on!” he says, and hurries away from the table, leaving Suho trailing after him, head spinning, and trying desperately not to look back at Sieun’s hand.
The two of them wander through the house, chatting a bit about the game. Angelo introduces Suho to more people, and he gets another cola. They even go outside for a bit, where there’s a small bonfire going, but people are smoking weed out there and that makes Suho nervous, so he heads back inside soon after.
Sieun and Talia aren’t by the ping-pong table anymore, so he meanders from room to room, trying to catch sight of them. He sends a text to Sieun too.
Suho
Where’d you go?
The basement is packed, but he doesn’t see them during his quick scan of the room there either. His stomach knots at the brief thought that there are more than likely a few bedrooms that they could’ve wound up in.
Back upstairs, he ducks into the kitchen, pops his head into the dining room, and turns into the living room, finally spotting Sieun, alone, sitting on the couch, back straight and eyes down.
“Sieun-ah, hey, I was looking for you.”
Sieun looks up at him, face impassive, and sighs. The reaction takes him aback, Talia’s nowhere to be seen, and Sieun’s mood has noticeably dipped.
Suho frowns. “What’s wrong? Do you feel sick?” He thinks there’s a bathroom nearby if Sieun needs to throw up, but he can’t remember where.
“I feel fine.” His words still come out slightly slurred.
“Are you sure?”
“Leave me alone, Suho,” Sieun says, getting up, a little wobbly, and forcing Suho to step back.
“What?”
Sieun tries to budge past him, but the room is too small for him to go far. “Hey, Sieun, wait.” Suho puts hands on Sieun’s shoulders, steering him back so that he’s standing in front of him again. “Are you mad at me?”
Sieun lets out a long breath, his shoulders sag.
“Why?” Suho asks. Sieun looks like he’s going to try to brush past Suho again, so he cuts in front of him once more. “Sieun-ah,” he begs.
Someone bumps into Suho’s back and he jolts forward, hands instinctively falling to Sieun’s sides so they don’t both tip over. He hears a sharp inhale, almost drowned out by the sound of the person slurring an apology and Suho insisting it’s okay.
When he turns back to Sieun, there’s a new look in his eyes. He almost looks mad again, or maybe he’s just… focused, in that way he gets.
“Sieun—?”
“Suho,” Sieun cuts in. “You got here 14 hours ago, and we've barely had any time alone,” he admits. It hits like a scolding and Suho feels cold rush through his body. The music turns suffocating in the span of seconds. He hates letting Sieun down, his neck prickles with shame at the thought of coming all this way only to upset him.
“Sieun-ah, I didn’t mean— I just wanted to see your life here, that’s all.”
“Well I wanted to see you.”
“I’m sorry,” Suho says, he’ll say it as many times as he needs. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think about that.”
Sieun’s eyes are red and glassy with vodka and hurt, and Suho is a piece of shit.
“Let’s leave,” he says. He’ll do anything to make this right, anything. Sieun wants to be alone together. Suho can fix that.
Sieun nods and turns to walk to the door, just like that.
“Wait,” Suho calls. “Shouldn’t we tell your friends?”
Sieun looks past him and holds someone’s gaze. Suho’s about to turn around and see who it is too, but Sieun speaks first.
“They’ll figure it out. Let’s go.” And he’s headed outside.
The walk back to the dorm is longer, and they mostly just shiver with their heads down the whole way, but Suho does ask a bit about the campus. There’s a big statue that they pass by on a hill that Sieun says the seniors will sit on when they graduate in the spring. They walk by the library, too, adorned with garland and wreaths for the holidays, and weave through a street with big houses. Suho peers into a few of them through the open curtains to look at the trees all lit up inside. It’s like something out of Home Alone.
They’re both tense with cold when they get inside, rushing to get changed and washed up. Sieun still seems quiet, not mad, more embarrassed, maybe.
It’s a little tight as they settle onto Sieun’s mattress, but it’s not the first time they’ve had to make do with only one bed. There were times before Suho was discharged that waves of tired would wash over him during Sieun’s visits. He never wanted to make Sieun leave, instead opting to scoot over and insist they nap together. Lord knows Sieun needed the rest too.
Those days it felt like they couldn’t get close enough, like his body was dealing with withdrawals from the years that he was asleep and couldn’t touch Sieun. It feels a little like that now, too. He tries not to be greedy, but he does sling an arm over Sieun’s middle, just to feel the way it moves up and down as he breathes.
“Can I ask you something?” Sieun asks after they’ve been laying there for a while.
“Mhm, anything,” Suho says, feeling a little droopy with sleep, but still aware enough.
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“What?” He shifts up higher onto his shoulder, peering down a bit at Sieun. “What gave you that idea?”
“Do you?” Sieun presses.
“No. Why?”
“Me either.”
“Okay,” Suho says, confused, but body relaxing back into the bed. “You could get one though, you know.”
He could, easily. Sieun’s smart, obviously, but he’s also good-looking, and he takes care of himself well, better than most guys their age. He’s a little blunt, but some girls like that.
“I don’t want to,” Sieun says.
Suho hums, that sounds like him. Too serious to be bothered with something like dating. “What about Talia?”
Sieun stiffens. “What about her?” he asks carefully.
Suho laughs quietly, there’s no way he doesn’t know how she feels. “Sieun, she’s learning Korean for you.”
There's a long moment then where Sieun's silent. He’s still tense though; Suho can feel it somehow, so he doesn’t speak either.
“I don’t like girls, Suho.”
And— wait, what?
“What?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t know.” Sieun turns his head away, his ears are so red they might burst into flame.
“I— Sieun, wait a second,” he sits up all the way then, watching as Sieun reluctantly does the same, sitting perpendicular to him, his back to the wall and legs tucked up like he’s worried they’ll tangle with Suho’s.
“I didn’t know,” Suho says. “I swear.”
“Okay.”
The day re-frames itself in Suho’s mind, as does their last year of high school together, Yeongi, and Baku’s jokes about Sieun refusing to go on any double dates with him.
Sieun’s not interested in girls.
Suho thinks he’s got an idea of what that means, but still—
“So,” his voice cracks a little and he cringes, “you like boys?”
Sieun nods, eyes on his knees.
Suho looks for something to say. “That’s cool,” he goes with.
Sieun finally looks at him then. “Do you hate it?”
“No, Sieun, of course I don’t. I’m just surprised.” He shakes his head like he can shoo the thought away from Sieun’s mind.
They sit in quiet for another minute and Suho lets the Sieun's words sink in. Maybe it’s easier for Sieun, being here. Maybe that’s why he came all this way. It is better dating other boys here? Does Sieun date?
“Does that— then do you have a boyfriend?”
He shakes his head. “No.” It’s even quieter now, and Suho thinks he might be running on borrowed time here. There’s a short window, when Sieun opens up. It’s brief, but captivating, beautiful. Suho does what he can to widen it each time.
“Hey.” He reaches forward to get a loose grip on Sieun’s wrist. “I’m happy you told me. You can tell me anything.”
Another nod. Time’s up.
“We should sleep,” Suho says. “Unless… you wanna talk more?”
“No,” Sieun says. “I want to sleep.”
“Okay, come here then.” Suho uses his grip to pull Sieun down to the bed again. His hair tickles Suho’s neck. “Tomorrow we’ll hang out just the two of us,” he says, then yawns, exhaustion hitting him full force. “I promise.”
Sieun holds himself a little further away this time, but eventually curls in, his head resting against Suho’s shoulder.
He whispers Suho's name when he's almost asleep.
“Mm?”
“Thank you,” Sieun mutters.
Suho cracks a sleepy smile, eyes still closed. “What are you talking about? Don’t be silly, Sieun-ah.” He pulls him in a little tighter. “Go to sleep.”
-
Light bleeds into the room brighter than Suho’s used to the next morning. His eyes squint a little as they open, sticky with sleep and jetlag. Sieun’s still asleep next to him, comforter pulled up to his chin in his hands. The pillow squishes his cheek a bit. It’s the first time Suho can remember ever waking up before him. He reaches for his phone carefully, extra watchful to ensure he doesn’t jostle the bed too much.
8:23 AM, his phone reads. There are a few notifications from Instagram, plus a voicemail from Halmeoni and a flood of curious texts from their friends in the groupchat. He turns the volume down and listens to the voicemail first, smiling at Halmeoni’s words and making a note to pass along her well wishes to Sieun when he wakes. He turns to look at him then, putting his phone down.
Sieun’s resting so peacefully, his lips are pushed out in a little pout where his face is smushed still. Suho feels a wave of affection so strongly he has to close his eyes for a second.
His Sieun.
Suho drifts between sleep and waking for the next little while, but eventually, he sits up enough to tilt his head back and look out the window. Outside, there’s a blanket of white over everything he can see, and more still coming down. Fat snowflakes, the kind that almost hold their shape so well that you can see it as they fall, are flying fast around the campus buildings in the distance.
“Suho?” Sieun’s voice is soft and a little deeper than usual in the morning.
“It’s snowing,” Suho says. He can’t keep the big grin off his face. It feels like he’s in one of those fantasy novels he’s picked up recently. He has needed something to do while all his friends were studying or working or in a town 15 hours away, and they provided the kind of escape he couldn’t get any other way. Well, besides talking to Sieun, maybe.
“Oh?” Sieun sits up, too, combing through his hair. He shivers a little when the comforter slides off his shoulder, pulling at his sleep shirt a bit, a sliver of collarbone exposed.
“Here,” Suho says, ignoring the way his stomach twists like he’s never seen Sieun’s skin before. He reaches down to snag a hoodie from his open suitcase on the floor, handing it over. Their hands brush when he grabs it and Suho jolts. Pull yourself together. The last thing he wants is Sieun thinking he’s being weird because— because of—
“Thanks,” Sieun says, tugging the cuffs at the end of the sleeves over his palms.
Suho’s mind goes blank when he looks up again. There’s only room in his head for the way Sieun looks cozied up in his sweatshirt. He’s suddenly, overwhelmingly caught up in the desire to wrap himself around Sieun, pull him back down to the bed and cling onto him like nakji.
“Is there a hill nearby?” he asks instead, swallowing hard and willing the feeling to quell.
“A hill?”
Suho nods, already getting out of bed. He intends to spend the entire day with Sieun alone, making up for yesterday, and he doesn’t want to waste a minute of it.