Archive of Our Own

Can I have your heart in a plastic box?

Never used, fully clean, untouched

Like I’m the only one you’ve ever loved

✑

Their new apartment overlooks the city in all its charm. They're right between both of their places of work; their close friends are only a ten to twenty minute walk away. If they're craving their favorite takeout, it's just down the block and across the street for the lazier days. It's perfect—Jeonghan normally hates that word, but with Seungcheol it seems like there's nothing else to describe things, nothing that could do it justice.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

There was a point in time where Jeonghan was sure that love was another myth, something people latched onto like folklore in hopes of giving life some meaning. He had been okay with the casual hookup, the occasional relationship that dwindled out once the timid butterflies in his stomach had calmed back into nothing.

And then came Seungcheol.

It was kismet—fate pulling their strings toward each other until they were so intertwined that Jeonghan couldn't remember a time before Seungcheol, if he even existed before then.

He had been running late to Mingyu's birthday party, nearly drenched in rain if it wasn't for Seungkwan's constant nagging to bring an umbrella just in case. In his haste, he ran straight into someone standing in the middle of the sidewalk. Ready to make a smart and maybe rude remark, Jeonghan's words died on his tongue the moment the other person looked up from the rain pelting the brim of their baseball cap.

Brown eyes, long lashes, full and rosy lips, thick brows. Jeonghan had been love-struck almost immediately, mouth parting with a breath as their eyes met. The man apologized, explaining that he was lost and trying to find his way to his friend's birthday party. He had just moved to Seoul—the streets were a bit confusing.

Jeonghan had been quick to ask for the address, words faltering in shock as he looked at the numbers and street name. "Hey, we're going to the same place, actually."

He still remembers Seungcheol's soft and dimpled smile. "Oh? That makes you my guardian angel, then."

They shared an umbrella, getting to know each other on the walk to Mingyu's place. From then, Jeonghan had been trapped in Seungcheol's orbit.

"What's so interesting out there?"

Jeonghan startles slightly, relaxing back into the arms around his waist when he realizes who it is. Their reflection stares back at him, slowly becoming more visible as the sun sets behind all the buildings in the distance. He can see Seungcheol's gentle smile, the way he noses at Jeonghan's dirty blond hair affectionately; can see Seungcheol's own blond hair he dyed after Jeonghan jokingly said they should match. "We should get takeout tonight," Jeonghan says, choosing to forgo the sap session playing in his head in favor of something that will benefit the both of them and save him from embarrassment.

"Shouldn't we unpack?" Seungcheol asks, hands on either side of Jeonghan's face as he turns in his hold. "You know, get it all out of the way now."

"We'll be up all night," Jeonghan points out, voice getting quieter as he leans in to peck Seungcheol's mouth once and then twice, knowing he's won by the way Seungcheol's eyes flutter shut. "Let's save it for tomorrow, Cheollie. We'll have all day. Let's enjoy this tonight, yeah? We live together now."

Seungcheol's smile melts into his face, dimple gracing Jeonghan with its presents. His eyes dance between Jeonghan's, all soft and loving and everything that makes the sparks erupt in Jeonghan's stomach and chest, awakening all the dormant ashes and leaving him lovesick. "That calls for celebration."

Jeonghan nods eagerly. "Yes—takeout."

Seungcheol laughs, head thrown back, loud in the nearly empty space of their apartment. A never tiring sight. Jeonghan laughs, too.

Autumn teases the night air enough for them to put on some layers, Jeonghan in a brown leather jacket with a sherpa inner lining and Seungcheol with a thick, red flannel. Their hands are warm, clasped together as they walk with synced steps until Seungcheol calls out something about a race, only taking it back when Jeonghan starts playing dirty (tripping).

By the time they get back they're out of breath, yet Seungcheol finds enough air to whine about almost dropping their food in the elevator when Jeonghan decided to grip his ass. He returns the favor when Jeonghan is grabbing them beers from the fridge (one of the two things they have in there at the moment) and he smacks Jeonghan's ass with enough force to make him stumble.

Their bickering turns into a wrestling match until Jeonghan's grumbling stomach cuts through the air. It's only then that they move over to the sofa—the only thing set up in their home other than their TV sitting on the floor on the opposite wall. They'll put the coffee table together tomorrow, at least that's what Seungcheol says as he struggles to balance the styrofoam container on his thighs.

One of the shows they've started together plays while they eat. It's easier like this, not having to wait until they have time to see each other to finish another episode. When one ends, another begins—no rush, no need to say goodbye.

Of course, the show gets forgotten just as quickly as it was turned on. Jeonghan has better things to turn his attention to, like Seungcheol's mouth on his.

It starts like it always does: slow, drawn out. Seungcheol kisses like he'll never get the chance to again. A hand at the base of Jeonghan's skull, the other palming the skin of Jeonghan's lower back as he coaxes him onto his lap. Jeonghan is pliant, easy beneath Seungcheol's touch, made for this like he's made to breathe.

A moan flutters out of his mouth as Seungcheol's mouth trails against his jaw, down his neck until he's nipping at the most sensitive part. He's memorized every part of Jeonghan, knows what makes him gasp, what makes him arch into his touch. It doesn't take long until he's holding Jeonghan's erection in his hand, pulling high sounds out of his mouth as he shudders against Seungcheol's mouth.

He comes with his forehead pressed to Seungcheol's, the mess painting the fabric on the hem of Seungcheol's shirt. It's only logical to take it off, even more logical for Jeonghan to return the favor, sliding off the sofa and onto his knees to take Seungcheol into his mouth.

Like Seungcheol knows him, he knows Seungcheol. Eye contact is important, looking up while licking the head of his cock and finding Seungcheol already looking at him, already bucking up into the touch. He guides Seungcheol's hand into his ashy blond hair, moans around his erection when it's pulled and swallows every bit so he can lick in Seungcheol's mouth with the taste after.

The clean up lazily, falling asleep with their bare bodies pressed up against each other on the sofa and the promise to build their bed first thing tomorrow morning.

✑

Waking up cramped together is less romantic than expected. Seungcheol's elbow is in Jeonghan's side, Jeonghan knees Seungcheol in the dick while trying to shift around. Eventually, they find themselves in the shower, trading off standing beneath the warm spray of the shower and realizing very quickly that maybe showering together is also a little less romantic. But Seungcheol washes Jeonghan's hair, makes sure to run his fingers through the knots until they're smooth, and Jeonghan kisses the tattoo below Seungcheol's neck and between his shoulder blades because he can. So, maybe things like this are always a little rose tinted.

They're productive after, forgoing breakfast and keeping their promise to put their bed together first and foremost. It's an easy build with complicated instructions, but Jeonghan is decent at decoding confusing texts and Seungcheol is great at following directions. Within the hour they're lying on their mattress they slotted against the wooden boards on the frame, staring up at the ceiling with contemplations of taking a nap.

But Seungcheol is stubborn and productive, so Jeonghan forces himself to get up and follow, slowly unpacking starting with their kitchen.

Afternoon comes with Seungcheol's stretching limbs, draping himself over where Jeonghan is sitting on the floor, surrounded by full and half empty boxes. "Hannie, I'm hungry," he whines, lips to Jeonghan's ear in a way that makes him squirm with a laugh. "Would it be terrible if I picked up some takeout again?"

"It's not like we have much to work with," Jeonghan reminds him. "We'll go grocery shopping tonight. It'll cancel out."

"You're so smart," Seungcheol praises, smacking a wet kiss to Jeonghan's cheek before getting up. "That's why I love you."

"The only reason?" Jeonghan jokes with a pout.

"You want me to list them all?" Seungcheol retorts, eyebrow raised as he grabs one of his hats from the kitchen island, placing it backwards on his head. "We'll be here for years, baby. But whatever makes you happy—I love your laugh, your face, your humor, the way you look in the morning when the sun comes through the curtains—”

"Cheollie," Jeonghan laughs, shooing him away.

Seungcheol's laugh rings through the air. "Same thing as last night?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan says flippantly, attention on something else. He pulls a box toward him, met with all sorts of junk. "Hey, what's this box for?"

"Oh, it's a bunch of stuff I was gonna throw away," Seungcheol explains.

"You want me to go through it?"

"It's all just trash, baby," Seungcheol tells him again with the wave of his hand. "But if you wanna sort through it, go for it. Maybe I missed something."

"Who knows, maybe you threw something important away," Jeonghan hums, already dipping his hands into the clutter. He's a natural snoop, it makes it better that Seungcheol lets him do it under the pretense that he's helping.

"Yeah, that's just my luck," Seungcheol chuckles, disappearing into the entry way. His voice is loud as he calls out: "Let me know if you find anything interesting!"

"Will do!" Jeonghan calls back.

The first thing he unveils is a bundle of receipts from the grocery store Seungcheol would frequent before this. Then, expired coupons, used up and folded gift cards, and other things that are genuinely trash. It's not all that interesting and Jeonghan is ready to push it toward the front door for Seungcheol to take out later.

A flash of red in all the dull surroundings makes Jeonghan do a double take. He plucks the color out, finding a stack of red envelopes, Seungcheol's handwriting on the front of each of them addressing them to a singular name.

Jeonghan recognizes the name. He remembers hearing it in off hand conversations when they met, remembers old friends of Seungcheol asking about her. He remembers Seungcheol brushing them off, the simple explanation: we're not together anymore. Have you met my boyfriend? This is Jeonghan.

Like a moth pulled to light of its demise, Jeonghan opens the first envelope, unveiling a letter folded and tucked in its center. The date in the upper corner is from a little over five years ago. Beneath, an endearment, Seungcheol's handwriting carefully filling up the spaces.

From the moment I met you, we were inseparable. Day one and I almost said I loved you—I would've if I knew you felt the same. I wonder how I got so lucky, what I did to deserve you, because out of all the people in the world, you chose me for reasons unknown. I will do my best to show you that you didn't make a mistake.

Love,

Your Seungcheol

Jeonghan's heart lurches up into his throat with an ache that makes him swallow shakily. He's careful as he folds the letter back into its original shape, tucks it back into its space in the envelope. He puts it to the side, met with another identical letter staring at him. He shouldn't, he knows he shouldn't, but he can't help himself as he takes this letter out, and then the next, and the next, eyes flickering across the pages, diving into this version of Seungcheol and his love.

I think I love you more each passing day—is that possible? Can you feel it, do I show it enough? One day, I'll be able to express all this in a way you deserve. I'll do my best still, always. I'm sorry for my flaws, but I will continue to be better for you.

Today, I could see the sunlight coming through your black-out curtains. The sun pointed at you, only you. That's how I see you, always. The light in the dark, the focal point of everything I see.

If I say that I love you, it doesn't feel like enough. How should I say it? How do I show it? I hope when you read these you can feel the warmth of my hands. I hope you can hear the sincerity in my words. I've never been good at expressing myself, but for you I'm trying. I'll keep trying until it's enough.

A stuttered breath fills Jeonghan's heavy lungs, surrounded by love letters dedicated to someone else, someone that isn't him and never will be. He can hear the beeping of the keypad, startling him into action, gathering all the envelopes and letters before he runs into their bedroom, shoving them in the drawer of his nightstand.

He's quick to get back into the living room and kitchen area as Seungcheol deposits the takeout bags into the island. "They didn't have any extra napkins," Seungcheol says with a pout, pausing when he sees Jeonghan just… standing there. "Hannie? Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," Jeonghan says a beat too late, willing a smile to twitch onto his face. He knows he looks anything but normal, hands fidgeting together, shifting from foot to foot nervously, but he tries anyway. "We have napkins—I put them in the pantry."

Seungcheol doesn't fall for the change in subject if the raise of his eyebrow is any indication. "What's wrong, baby?"

"Nothing," Jeonghan insists, breathing the words through something of a laugh but not quite. "We should eat. My head hurts."

He expects it when Seungcheol is in his space, concern etched in his features. He holds Jeonghan's face, presses the back of his hand to his cheek and then his forehead. "You getting sick?"

"Maybe." He turns his face away when Seungcheol goes to check again, putting a hand on his chest to create some distance in hopes Seungcheol won't feel the way his chest shakes every time he breathes. "Let's eat, Cheollie."

There's a pause as Seungcheol's eyes scan his features, trying to find the words trapped beneath Jeonghan's tongue. When he gets nothing, he drops it, adjusting to the silence.

✑

From the start Jeonghan had been trapped in Seungcheol's orbit. For Seungcheol it hadn't been the same, Jeonghan is more than aware of this. Where it took him seconds to stumble into infatuation, it took Seungcheol months. He liked Jeonghan, that much was obvious, but for every lingering touch and gaze, Seungcheol would turn away, take a step back. He was cautious, careful when it came to giving up a piece of himself.

Though, it was Seungcheol that pushed things along. He asked Jeonghan on a date, all rosy cheeks and shy smiles. He showed up with the same type of flowers that he'd seen wilted in a parched vase in Jeonghan's apartment, replacing the brittle bouquet with something more new, more promising. He chose Jeonghan's favorite restaurant, paid the bill before Jeonghan could even offer. And that night, he kissed Jeonghan just before he could hurry into his apartment building.

After that, it had been easy falling into each other. Seungcheol loves with everything in his being. The heart on his sleeve beats noisily, demanding to be heard and seen. It's never mattered that it took him a little longer to fall because the impact was harder, leaving matching craters in each of their lives.

So Jeonghan doesn't know why he can't stop thinking about the letters.

That night, he showers by himself while Seungcheol finishes putting the dining table together. The steam billowing from the shower lingers even when it's been cut off and Jeonghan is distracted by his nightly routine, thoughts circling back to Seungcheol's handwriting, black ink on beige paper.

It startles him when Seungcheol comes in, moving Jeonghan's damp hair out of the way as he kisses down Jeonghan's bare spine. His lips are warm and plush against the already heated skin. The drag of his teeth make Jeonghan's eyes flutter shut, hands finding balance in the edge of the bathroom counter. His eyes meet their reflection, a spike of arousal yanking at his gut as he watches Seungcheol's cherry red mouth drag up Jeonghan's shoulder and then neck until finally sucking at the space beneath his jaw.

"You're so pretty," Seungcheol mutters into his skin, kisses sloppier by the second. "All mine—I'm so lucky, baby."

He probably said the same thing to her.

Jeonghan's body stiffens, eyes blinking back at himself. Seungcheol is oblivious, hand firm against Jeonghan's stomach to push him back against his body. It's almost enough to pull Jeonghan back under, but the thought is loud and grating inside his skull, repeating itself over and over and over until his lungs are filled with soot.

He steps to the side and out of Seungcheol's touch. It's enough to make him stumble, eyebrows knitting together in confusion as Jeonghan turns to tug on a loose t-shirt and pajama pants. "Hannie?"

Jeonghan keeps his back to Seungcheol, making a show of looking through his side of the closet where he shoved his clothes earlier in the day. "Mm?"

Silence flickers for a moment before Seungcheol is asking: "Is everything okay?"

"Yeah," Jeonghan answers shortly, fingers wrapping around the sleeve of an orange sweater, rubbing the material between his fingers until he can feel something other than the drumming in his ears. "Get ready for bed, Cheollie. I know you have to wake up early."

He doesn't have to look to know that Seungcheol is still staring at him, waiting for an answer that won't be voiced. Eventually, he listens to Jeonghan and gets into the shower, the steam making its comeback as Jeonghan heads to their room.

The window is cracked open, chilling the surroundings enough for them to make use of their thick duvet. When Seungcheol joins him, he brings the warmth of a thousand suns, the comforting heat enveloping Jeonghan as he scoots closer.

The ache in Jeonghan's throat chokes him when Seungcheol pulls him closer, pressing his lips to Jeonghan's cheek in a way that is so devastatingly tender he nearly breaks.

"Cheol-ah," he whispers, barely able to make out the silhouette of Seungcheol's face in the darkness.

"What is it, Hannie?" Seungcheol says back, not missing a beat. Always so attentive, ready to make things right even if he doesn't know how to. When Jeonghan's knuckles brush his cheek, he turns his face to kiss his palm.

Jeonghan swallows, blinking to keep himself from doing something stupid like crying. "You love me?"

"I love you," Seungcheol says easily. "I love you so much, baby."

"How much?" Jeonghan tries, knowing it's selfish and irrational. But he needs to hear it, needs it to fill his lungs until he can breathe again.

A breathy laugh leaves Seungcheol, the warm air caressing Jeonghan's face. "Infinitely. Longer than that. More than that. I love you with everything that I have, everything that I am and will be, Jeonghan." He pauses, the pad of his finger pressed to Jeonghan's bottom lip. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Jeonghan sighs, chest lighter. He tucks himself against Seungcheol's body, makes himself smaller so he can be sheltered in the warmth. "I love you. You know that, right?"

"Ah, Hannie," Seungcheol whispers, kissing the top of his head. "Of course I do."

✑

As much as Jeonghan tries to be normal about it all, it plagues his mind for two days until it's noticed by people in his every day life. Mostly Joshua who keeps shooting him these concerned looks while they put together crafts during the only free time they get in a daycare: nap time.

Finally, he bites. "Alright. What is it with you?"

Jeonghan looks up from the mess of glitter he dumped onto the glue filled plate. "What are you talking about?"

"Cut the bullshit," Joshua whispers, glancing around to seemingly make sure none of the kids have woken up and learned a new vocabulary word. "You've been moping around since Monday."

"It's only Tuesday."

"You're impossible," Joshua hisses. "Come on. You're making the kids sad, too."

Jeonghan presses his lips together knowing that there's some truth in that. Children are too empathetic for their own good sometimes. "You know how Seungcheol and I moved in together?"

Joshua nods, straightening up in interest. "Yeah, why? Is he crazy? Did you finally find something wrong with him?"

"No! Nothing's wrong with him," Jeonghan says quickly, rolling his eyes when Joshua makes a disappointed noise. "It's… I don't know. It's hard to explain."

"We have two more hours until we have to wake the kids up," Joshua tells him. "I'm sure you can make due with that."

So Jeonghan sucks in a breath and pushes his little pride aside. He mentions the letters found in a box filled with what Seungcheol said was trash. The name written in the front of each one, the contents of these love letters. Seungcheol's loyalty, all his love splayed out, bleeding through the pages with every stroke of ink. Things he's never said to Jeonghan, things he has said to Jeonghan. The crashing reality that even though Seungcheol is the first person Jeonghan has ever truly loved, the sentiment is not shared. Someone out there has seen every piece of his flesh, too. Someone has kissed his mouth the same way, touched the most heated parts of him. Heard the hitch in his breath, the gentleness of his sigh after a long day.

Someone has loved and been loved by Seungcheol the same, maybe even more.

When he's done, Joshua's mouth is parted, eyebrows drawn together. "Let me get this straight," he starts with the subtle shake of his head. "You found letters in a box of trash addressed to Seungcheol's ex girlfriend from over five years ago and now you're spiraling because… he had a life before you?"

It feels stupid when it's thrown back at him like this. "Well—”

"Is he cheating on you?"

"No!" Jeonghan says quickly, voice loud against the lullaby playing on their speaker perched atop of a desk. "I said they're not recent, Shua. He's only mentioned her a few times when old friends ask about her, but other than that I don't even know much about her. He never brings it up."

"Okay, then what is the problem?" Joshua asks, confusion drenching his tone as does his best to read Jeonghan's mind. "The letters were in a box meant to go to the trash, so it's not like he was trying to hold onto them. He never talks about her and probably has no contact with her anymore—sorry, but what's the big deal?

Jeonghan's mouth opens and closes, words almost muted as they breach the softness of his mouth: "He's never written me letters."

"Yeah," Joshua says slowly. "But you're also not her."

"I know I'm not," Jeonghan whispers, insecurity clawing at his chest and threatening to spill out of his mouth.

"Not like that,"Joshua backtracks quickly. "I mean, have you ever asked him to write you letters?"

This time, it's Jeonghan with the confusion. "No. Why would I?"

"Exactly," Joshua says with a proud straightness to his spine, like he's cracked some sort of code. "You're different people, loved in different ways, Jeonghan. It's not a competition and he's not with her anymore. He's with you—you moved in together, for fucks sake. That's how I know he loves you genuinely. You're insufferable and he willingly wants to see you every day."

Somehow, it doesn't smother the rekindled flames at the bottom of his belly. He pretends it does just so Joshua can stop pestering him, but when he gets home that early afternoon he only falls deeper and deeper into the hole sinking beneath his feet.

It's stupid to go on Instagram, even more stupid to search her name up and find a profile followed by a couple of mutual friends. She's not on private which only adds fuel to the flames. Every post is carefully thought out, matching a curated theme that makes Jeonghan's own profile and life feel like nothing but a scrapbook slapped together carelessly. She reads books, annotates them with the writing scrawled in the margins. She watches foreign films, travels constantly, keeps her followers updated with photos taken on a nice camera. And within all of this, she has also moved on with someone else. He makes an appearance in her posts often and while Jeonghan wants to move past this too, it only brings more and more nagging thoughts to manifest themselves in his mind.

Everything about her breathes Seungcheol's letters to life in vivid colors. It only makes sense that Seungcheol fell into her so easily, lost in the crashing waves of all the intriguing things she is made up of. He can picture Seungcheol looking over her shoulder in interest at whatever book she chose, can hear the questions he'd ask in order to get a peek into her mind. He can imagine Seungcheol bragging to his friends of her wit and humor, can understand why even after years they still ask him about her.

The questions prick at his skin, amplifying the ache in his tender heart as they loop and loop and loop. Did Seungcheol kiss her the same way? Had he memorized the sound of her breathes, the tilt of her head when she beckoned him for more? Does Seungcheol think of her when he drinks coffee in the morning, does the bitter taste settle in with memories of what once was?

Are there things Jeonghan does that give him a glimpse at the past? When he sits in the passenger seat of Seungcheol's car, when he lolls his head back against the seat to smile lazily at him, can he see the ghost of her smile stuck in Jeonghan's teeth?

When he sees red, does he remember the words he left her in his letters? Does he wish they were hidden in her nightstand instead, that she plucks them from their home when she thinks about him after her lover is sleeping? Does he hope she thinks about him at all?

Is Jeonghan everything she's not, and less than what she is?

Where she is the calm rise of a tide, Jeonghan is the frantic waves crashing against jagged rocks. Too obsessive, too jealous for his own good, taunting himself with the realization that perhaps he'll never hold a flame to her in the way he'd like to. If it were up to him, he'd torch it all, burn the memory of her until the ash stains the tips of his fingers and coats his tongue.

It's unfair. He's being unfair. Like Joshua said, he can't be angry that Seungcheol had a life before Jeonghan After all Jeonghan did, too. Seungcheol doesn't hold it against him, doesn't even think to question what Jeonghan's life consisted of before their paths crossed.

Even with this realization, Jeonghan tortures himself with all of his thoughts until the beeping of the keypad is pulling him onto his feet and off the sofa.

When Seungcheol crosses the threshold the sound of his shoes coming off echo within the small entrance. There's some cluttering as he slots them into the shoe rack, and then his warm voice floating through the air. "Hannie—honey? Are you sleeping?" He comes into view only a few seconds later, face melting into a fondness that tugs at Jeonghan's chest, expression mirrored without much thought. "Oh, you're up! I thought you'd be napping."

Jeonghan meets him half way, pulled into Seungcheol's orbit like a habit. He falls into the embrace, noses at the heated skin of Seungcheol's neck as he inhales the citrusy musk of the expensive cologne Jeonghan gifted him for his birthday. "Missed you."

Seungcheol's touch is grounding against the back of his neck, tilting Jeonghan's head up to kiss him like he's trying to refill his lungs. "Missed you," he says back, nose brushing against Jeonghan's. "Saw a flower and thought of you."

"A flower?" Jeonghan repeats with a chuckle, leaning back to get a proper look at Seungcheol's face. It's genuine, truthful. "What was so special about that flower, hm?"

"It was coming out between the seam of the artificial grass and the sidewalk," Seungcheol explains with a grin, tucking Jeonghan's blond hair behind his ear, thumb brushing against the smooth skin beside the skin there. "And I thought, ah. Jeonghan would like this."

"That's all you thought?" Jeonghan whispers, leaning into his touch, hoping he can coax something more. What, he's not too sure. He wants to be significant, that's all he knows. "You edit what people write for a living, I know you have something more in there, Cheol-ah. You can steal someone else's words, I'll never even know."

Seungcheol's eyes dance between his, the corners of his mouth tilting up. "Okay. I was thinking about how something so beautiful stood out against all the greyness in the world. I thought of the first time I saw you."

Jeonghan blinks, a small laugh punching out of his chest. "Really?"

"What, you don't believe me?" Seungcheol teases though his eyes are careful, waiting as Jeonghan gathers his thoughts.

"No—I do," Jeonghan says quickly, dropping his hands from their previous hold on Seungcheol's waist. "It's just, ah… The first few months we knew each other… You were hard to read, that's all."

For a moment, Seungcheol says nothing. Jeonghan doesn't try to read his expression. Instead, he turns out of his hold, heads to the kitchen to get himself a glass of water to keep his hands busy. When he leans back against the counter, Seungcheol has joined him. "I'm sorry."

Water drips from the corner of Jeonghan's mouth as he sputters, swallowing it down quickly. "Sorry? No—why are you sorry? You don't have to apologize."

"I know it was annoying having to wait for me," Seungcheol continues, lip pulled between his teeth as he looks down in thought. "I just… I didn't want to mess things up."

"Seungcheol," Jeonghan says, waiting for Seungcheol to regard him. It's in the past—there's no reason to dwell on it or get caught up in the what ifs and endless scenarios that could have played out. There's no point in going back to how things were instead of how they are—

Jeonghan almost laughs, a breath of realization fluttering out his mouth. Seungcheol's eyebrows knit together, his head tilting to the side. "What?"

"I'm stupid," Jeonghan mutters with the shake of its head, pecking Seungcheol on the lips to watch the way his smile comes back. "Don't worry about the past, yeah? We have this now."

Seungcheol nods in agreement. "You're right. Thank you, baby."

The epiphany is tucked into Jeonghan's own pocket.

Don't worry about the past.

✑

Unfortunately, it's easier said than done.

But Jeonghan does his best to be normal about the thoughts that pluck away at his sanity throughout the week. When Seungcheol traces patterns on his bare spine to wake him up in the mornings, he ignores the image of sunlight filtering through black curtains. Though he wonders if the golden rays color him in the same hues, if it's enough to paint a different picture, one that's enough to put all the others to rest.

It becomes harder to ignore when for every act of affection, Jeonghan's first thought is: did she like this, too?

Through his own nagging thoughts, Joshua is there to shut them down, finally exhausted by the time Friday rolls around.

"You need to talk to him about this."

"No," Jeonghan says just as quickly, shaking his head when Joshua groans with annoyance. "I'll be fine—it'll pass! I'm just in my head, I think."

"He can't even kiss you without you thinking about his ex," Joshua points out. "You're obsessed, Jeonghan."

It's not so much an obsession as it is jealousy in all its ugly and discolored tones. There's a large part of him that wishes he could encase Seungcheol's heart, clean it of all its memories and lock it in a safe, untouched by hands other than his. He doesn't say it out loud, knowing that it only takes away from his weak case that he'll be okay as time passes.

That night Mingyu and Jihoon invite them to a bar between their apartments. It's a date night, at that's what it seems like as Jeonghan watches Seungcheol dab cologne onto his wrists, the one that makes Jeonghan want to melt against his body. He's wearing a navy blue zip up with yellow-ish, gold lettering on the front and cream colored pants, his navy blue Adidas already waiting by the front door beside Jeonghan's matching white and black ones. Jeonghan takes inspiration from his casual wear with a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and one of Seungcheol's grey jackets to keep the cold air off his skin.

Just before they leave, Seungcheol grabs Jeonghan's umbrella for them to share beneath the heavy drops pelting down from the dark sky. Sharing an umbrella is always inconvenient, but Jeonghan loves hiding behind the excuse of it while he pushes his body into Seungcheol's and lets his hand settle in his back pocket. He knows Seungcheol feels the same as he hooks an arm around Jeonghan's shoulder, keeping him safe from the water cascading down and pooling onto the passing sidewalk around them. When he speaks, he noses at Jeonghan's temple, presses his lip to the shell of his ear to tell him something that can definitely wait and Jeonghan loves it more than he can explain.

Mingyu has already ordered a pitcher of beer when they arrive, greeting them with the flash of his canines as Jihoon settles for a more subtle tilt of his head. "Hey! It's good to see you guys. How's the new apartment?"

"We're almost settled," Seungcheol says, draping his arm against the back of Jeonghan's chair, running a hand through his blond hair to tame all the pieces disturbed by the splashing rain. "But it's good—we got lucky, didn't we?"

Jeonghan nods with a close mouthed smile, propping his chin on his hand. "We have hot water all the time," he boasts, earning a whine from Mingyu. "I think it only takes, what? Less than a minute to heat up?"

"Oh yeah, and we're near that takeout place," Seungcheol continues, laughing when Jihoon rolls his eyes. "Yah! Be happy for us!"

"Ha," Jihoon snorts, shaking his head and downing half of his beer. "If I knew we had to listen to you brag all night I would've just stayed home."

"Jihoon hyung," Mingyu chastises, shoving his arm lightly with an exasperatingly fond smile tugging at his lips. "Be nice. Maybe they'll let us borrow their shower—"

"Hell no," Seungcheol says quickly, wagging a finger at Jihoon and then Mingyu with a child-like motion.

"Don't tease them," Jeonghan whispers loudly as he nudges their shoulders together, leaning in with a glint of mischief in his eye. "We can get them to pay."

"Wah, sexy and smart," Seungcheol grins. "Should we just go home now—"

"Aish, enough of that," Jihoon says loudly, squeezing his eyes shut with a his nose scrunched in disgust. "Get a room—"

Jeonghan grins. "We have a whole apartment now, actually."

"Alright!" Mingyu says loudly, standing up and beckoning Seungcheol to follow him with a gesture. "Billiards, let's go. You lose and I get a free pass to your shower."

"Two versus two?" Seungcheol asks first, looking at Jeonghan with the same puppy eyes that usually get him pretty far. "You're my Billiards Buddy."

Jeonghan shakes his head, more set on observing from a distance. "You go. Defend our shower, Cheollie."

With that, Seungcheol and Mingyu are left to their own competition on the other side of the bar, their teasing and laughing adding to the music playing from the speakers hidden in almost every corner. Jihoon pours a glass of beer for Jeonghan, pushing it toward him until he's sipping at the foam on top.

"How's it going, really?" Jihoon asks after a second, smiling when Jeonghan's eyebrow raises in confusion. "When Gyu and I moved in together, it wasn't perfect like everyone was telling us it'd be. It's hard sharing a space when you've been separate people your whole lives—I mean, we figured it out, learned to push our pride aside and compromised. I'm just asking because I know it sucks to keep it to yourself so you don't get judged."

"It's actually going really good," Jeonghan answers easily, truthfully. It's not hard with Seungcheol. He'd like to think that for every thing he lacks, Seungcheol makes up for and vice versa. They fit into each other like pieces of stained glass—different, yet joined into something greater. "It's only been a week but we've just been enjoying each other more than we could before. It's nice coming home to someone, you know?"

Jihoon nods. "That's good, hyung. I'm happy for you two." Jeonghan looks down at his glass, smile wavering for a moment until Jihoon is ducking his head down to meet Jeonghan's face. "Something's bothering you."

It's not a question or assumption. So, Jeonghan doesn't treat it like one. "Do you ever get… jealous?"

"Jealous?" Jihoon repeats, straightening up. His eyes are wider, eyebrows shooting up in surprised like he hadn't been expecting such a question. "I mean, it's common. As humans, isn't it sort of in our nature?"

"But do you get jealous," Jeonghan pushes, hoping that he doesn't come across as crazy as he feels. He just needs the reassurance that this isn't only him. "Like… When you think of the people from Mingyu's past, do you get jealous of the people that came before you?"

Luckily, Jihoon's expression doesn't morph into the judgmental, disgusted stare Jeonghan is expecting. Instead, he sits back, blinking as he considers. "It's not something I think about, no. Not unless I want to make myself feel bad, but… That's what you're doing, aren't you?"

Jeonghan's laugh is dry, his fingers tracing lines on the sweat of his glass of beer. "Not on purpose. It's just been something that I've been thinking about more often than not and, um. I don't know. You've known Seungcheol for a long time, did—”

"He's had his fair share of relationships and I'm sure you have too," Jihoon starts slowly, sucking in a breath as he thinks. "But—ah. Listen, Seungcheol gives his all no matter what. It's who he is, but it doesn't change what you both have. He's the best version of himself that I've ever seen, so don't let it get to you, hyung. It's not worth it."

It lightens the load on Jeonghan's shoulders, even if it's just for a moment. He knows the embers of jealousy are still glowing, waiting to be ignited by something stupid. But he offers Jihoon a smile, pushing away from the table to stand. "I'll get us some more beer."

The bartender beams when he sees Jeonghan, his blue-ish grey hair spiked up in all sorts of directions as he wipes down the area. "Hey, long time no see! Where have you and lover boy been?"

"We were in the process of moving," Jeonghan explains to Soonyoung, elbows on the bar top as he leans forward. "Between packing and getting settled our top priority unfortunately was not you, Soonyoung-ah."

"I'll work my way up the list," Soonyoung winks playfully. "What can I get you? More beer or should we break out the good soju?"

"Just beer for now," Jeonghan tells him, catching the kiss he's blown and putting it in his pocket in a series of theatrical movements.

The touch in his waist isn't unwelcomed, he almost expects it. "Getting a free drink?"

Jeonghan smiles to himself, turning his body and latching a finger onto the silver chain around Seungcheol's neck. "Never. I have a boyfriend, you know?"

"Ah," Seungcheol tsks. "That's a shame. I was gonna offer to buy you a drink."

Jeonghan plays into it, the thrill zipping up his spine. "No one has to know."

He doesn't have to ask to know Seungcheol feels the same, eyes darting down to Jeonghan's growing grin. "Our little secret?"

"Something like that," Jeonghan breathes, already leaning forward to meet Seungcheol in the middle.

It's quickly interrupted by Soonyoung's gasp. "Wah—for free?"

Jeonghan is quick to look over his shoulder, ignoring the way Seungcheol stumbles into him, seemingly still expecting a kiss. "It's gonna cost you, Soonyoung-ah."

It makes Soonyoung laugh for a few seconds before his expression becomes more serious than they're used to. "Just so you both know I'd pay a ridiculous amount of money to see it."

"Ohh-kay," Seungcheol says slowly, nodding at Soonyoung before dropping his hands from Jeonghan and grabbing the new pitcher. He uses one hand to hold the beer and the other hand to tangle their fingers together, leading them to the billiards table where Jihoon is already standing beside Mingyu.

The rest of the night follows the same calmness that Jeonghan is fond of when it comes with hanging out with Mingyu and Jihoon. The jokes and fun are all there but without the theatrics or hollering Seungkwan or Seokmin would add. There's no need to keep up with the jokes or try to get a witty remark in—it's nice, peaceful. As peaceful as it can get with Jihoon's frequent glances that tell Jeonghan he knows what Jeonghan is thinking about.

But Jeonghan knows it will pass, so he toughens it out, shoves everything in his pocket and will laugh about how stupid he was being in a year. It's even easier to brush it all off when Seungcheol's touches throughout the night start to linger. When Jeonghan tests the waters and takes a shot of soju without breaking eye contact, letting a little dribble out the corner of his mouth and down his neck. It takes all of ten seconds for Seungcheol to make up an excuse and get them out of there.

The rain has let up, leaving the streets with glistening streets and the petrichor sticking to the cold and heavy air around them as they stumble in to each other, trying at failing at being civilized in the dead of night. Getting into the apartment is a feat they conquer through mouths panting against one another, hands clutched in the seams of each other's shirts and cascading down lower and lower.

Jeonghan's back hits their bedroom door with enough force for his skull to crack against it too and in the silence that follows the concern, he laughs bashfully. "Yah Seungcheol," he scolds, rubbing the back of his head. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"That's not on my list of things to do to you tonight," Seungcheol banters, flat palm against the aching area. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," Jeonghan insists, tilting his chin up to catch Seungcheol's rosy mouth in another kiss. "But I think we forgot to lock the door."

"It can wait—"

Jeonghan rolls his eyes, knowing that they'll both forget the moment their orgasms wash over them. "I'll do it fast—go get naked."

It's enough to reignite the excitement. Seungcheol hurries into the bedroom while Jeonghan takes long strides toward the entry way, completing the task in a record amount of time before hurrying back into the room where Seungcheol's back is to him, sitting on Jeonghan's side of the bed and not naked in the slightest.

"I thought I told you to get naked—" the words die on Jeonghan's tongue when he nears and sees a familiar flash of red.

Seungcheol's eyebrows are furrowed, eyes darting in confusion as his mouth falls open. "What… Where did you get these?"

Jeonghan swallows back the barbed wire tightening in his throat and chest. Honesty is going to get him a whole lot farther than lying his way through this. "I, um. I found them in that box of trash I was going through."

"But why are they here?" Seungcheol asks, looking up as if Jeonghan will have the answer ready for him.

"I don't know," Jeonghan manages to croak out, unable to meet Seungcheol's gaze. When Seungcheol's face scrunches into something even more confused, Jeonghan tries again. "I read them after I found them and… I know I shouldn't have, I know I should have thrown them away because then I wouldn't have thought about them so much or let them get to me—"

"Let them get to you—what are you talking about?"

"You loved her," Jeonghan says, barely audible and nearly lost in his breath. The tears are hot against his lash line, but he doesn't let them spill over. He has no right. "So much. You knew it right away. I'm—I just wish that I could have been like that for you, too."

Seungcheol is up, the letters falling to the floor as he holds Jeonghan's face in his hands. "What does that mean? Jeonghan, I—I love you. I love you right now. The past is nothing to me, especially if you weren't there." Jeonghan knows it's true, can hear the sincerity in Seungcheol's voice, but it doesn't muffle out all the voices in his head taunting him. He wrote her letters. As if reading his mind, Seungcheol asks: "Do you wanna know why I wrote these?"

Jeonghan shrugs, unsure if he can take an answer he won't like. But Seungcheol is patient, eyes dancing between Jeonghan's waiting for an actual answer. "Why?"

"Because I felt like I couldn't say any of it out loud," Seungcheol explains, whispered words loud in Jeonghan's ears. "It… It wasn't the best relationship. I had a lot of things I didn't like about myself and she did, too. I was scared of messing up all the time, I always felt like I couldn't be enough. I wrote a letter after every fight, just so I could feel like I had some control over things, but in the end it was never going to work. I took my time falling for you because I didn't want to mess things up, Jeonghan.

Jeonghan blinks, mouth falling open just enough for a breath to escape. He hadn't considered that the letters could come from a place of sadness. "I'm sorry."

"I don't want you to be sorry," Seungcheol says gently. "I just… I need you to know that this, what we have, is everything I've ever wanted. I'm not scared to tell you how I feel. I took my time falling for you because I didn't want to mess things up, Jeonghan. I knew that this was it then and I know it now. I don't have to ask to know that you love me. I can feel it every day, I can see it in the way you look at me, I can hear it in the way you talk to me. You're my dream, Jeonghan." The tears spill over despite Jeonghan's clenching jaw. He turns his face away when Seungcheol sees them and makes a sad noise. "Talk to me."

"It's so stupid," Jeonghan says through a small laugh, looking up at the ceiling in hopes of gathering himself. "I've been so in my head thinking about how I just… Sometimes I wish I could take your heart and put it in a fucking plastic box or something. Brand new. Only for me."

Seungcheol laughs too, soft and endeared despite it all. "It's all yours."

Jeonghan lingers in the warmth of Seungcheol, appreciates the curve of his nose and the darkness of his lashes. When he catches his mouth in a kiss, it's near desperate, hoping that the reassurance can bleed into his mouth. The words are tumbling out subconsciously, body arching into Seungcheol's. He needs to feel filled with all this love. "Can you show me?"

Seungcheol's touch is grounding, understanding. His hands frame Jeonghan's face as his thumbs swipe at the high points of his cheeks. He nods, nose trailing against the slope of Jeonghan's and across his face to press his mouth to his cheek and then jaw. It draws a sigh from Jeonghan, his breathing quickening when the featherlight kisses begin to creep lower, against his pulse, on the skin where his neck and shoulder join.

The urge to rush sparks in Jeonghan's veins as he dips his hands beneath Seungcheol's shirt only for them to be guided back against the bed, Seungcheol hovering over him with an already swollen mouth. He shakes his head, the blond falling in his face as he does so. "I wanna take my time with you," he says, fingertips grazing the inside of Jeonghan's wrist, down to his elbow and then to his side. "Show you, yeah? How much I love you."

"Yeah," Jeonghan breathes, doing his best to dampen his urges to lurch forward and lick into Seungcheol's mouth the way they both like.

When Seungcheol kisses him, it's barely the brush of their lips, his mouth finding other places to trail down. He strips Jeonghan with intention, starting with his shirt, hands caressing every inch of skin until finally ridding him of the material. When it hits the floor, Seungcheol's mouth is on Jeonghan's again, this time more firm than before. He holds Jeonghan's face with one hand, coaxing his mouth open with the tip of his tongue, swallowing Jeonghan's breath in a heated kiss.

The other hand finds it's place on Jeonghan's chest as his thumb brushes over the hardened bud of his nipple, eliciting a shuddered gasp from Jeonghan. His mouth falls open enough for Seungcheol to abandon the task of kissing him, instead focused on dragging his lips against Jeonghan's chin, neck, chest. His path shifts, tongue flat against the skin until it replaces where his thumb was.

The gasp in Jeonghan's throat is cut off by a moan, eyes fluttering as Seungcheol takes his time, leaves every inch of his skin feeling like it's been touched by flames. The erection in Jeonghan's pants is nearly painful, hips bucking up into Seungcheol's thigh in desperation. He's stilled by Seungcheol's hands on his hips.

"Touch me, Cheollie. Please," Jeonghan pleads, breath caught in his throat, hushed by another plush kiss to his mouth.

He's rewarded with Seungcheol's hand skillfully unbuttoning his pants, delicately palming against his hard on. "Because you asked so nicely. And because you look so pretty, baby."

The praise flutters in Jeonghan's stomach that swoops in the same second as Seungcheol ride him of his pants and briefs, his strength showcased in the effortless way he lifts up Jeonghan's hips with one arm to do so.

Like this, he's bare beneath Seungcheol's heavy lidded gaze. There's no chance to feel embarrassed, not when Seungcheol averts his eyes down toward where Jeonghan is leaning against his own stomach, pink hues dusted on his body with his feverish blush. Seungcheol curses, trailing the tips of his fingers down Jeonghan's navel, over his hipbones. He stops just before he can touch the most heated part of Jeonghan.

"I don't think I'll ever get tired of looking at you," he says so quietly it's almost lost against the blood rushing in Jeonghan's ears.

The blush spreads like wildfire and soon, thankfully soon, Seungcheol's hand is wrapping around Jeonghan's cock, tugging slowly until he draws a moan out of Jeonghan's chest. His pace quickens only slightly, thumb catching on the precum at the top to spread it over the head and fuck his fist down several times until Jeonghan's cock is wet and slick.

When he's graced with Seungcheol's mouth on his again, he does his best to choke out; "Your clothes—take them off."

Seungcheol's movements falter before he realizes what Jeonghan is asking. From then, he's taking his shirt off with haste, his pants following clumsily until he's kneeling on the bed in only his briefs, attention back on Jeonghan like it never wavered. Now, his arms bracket Jeonghan's head, dipping down to kiss him slowly, to guess brushing against each other with intention, infatuation.

Again, his mouth is ceaseless. It trails down to his neck, on his chest, opened mouthed kisses pressed to Jeonghan's stomach and navel until his tongue is tracing his hipbones. Jeonghan's mouth falls open with a sigh, head tilting back against the bed as Seungcheol takes him into his mouth, warm and wet. His hands tangle in the sheets as Seungcheol licks up the shaft, tongue flat against the head as he looks up to meet his eye.

The sight is unreal, as it tends to be when it comes to Seungcheol. His blond hair is mussed, lips swollen with color, eyes shining even in the low light of the single lamp. He lets Jeonghan fall from his mouth, the tip catching on his lip as it does so.

Jeonghan whimpers is nearly lost in the space between them. "Cheol-ah—”

Seungcheol noses at his hip, lips dragging across the skin. "Love how you sound, baby. Love how you say my name."

"Seungcheol," Jeonghan says just to say it, just to see the way Seungcheol's eyes flutter shut like he's been graced with a sweet divinity. "Want your mouth, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol is good, always so good. Attentive in every way, always. His tongue presses against Jeonghan's shaft, drags up to the head until his lips are wrapping around the pink flesh. He's slow, drawing out Jeonghan's high noises, small moans punctuated with every breath as he watches Seungcheol go down on him.

Soon both of Seungcheol's hands are on his hips, coaxing Jeonghan to turn over onto his stomach. The question is on Jeonghan's tongue but he swallows it back, all his trust in the palms of someone worthy.

A tender kiss brushes against his upper spine. The weight of Seungcheol is brief, flushed against his back enough to feel his erection rutting up against his ass. He loses himself in the feeling of Seungcheol dropping his inhibitions for a moment; he's chasing the pleasure of friction, getting himself off on Jeonghan with the thin fabric of his briefs sepearating them.

It's unbelievably sexy and short lived as Seungcheol continues his path of kisses delicately placed along Jeonghan's spine, every one accompanied by his words listing, "I love this part of you, and this, and this, and this."

The affection gradually travels lower and lower until he's right above the swell of Jeonghan's ass. The sensation of his soft lips is replaced by the wetness of his tongue dragging down, between Jeonghan until it brushes against his hole. Jeonghan gasps, hips raising in desperation for more, more, more. Seungcheol grants him his wish, the touch of his palms pulling Jeonghan back with enough force to position him ass up, his face and chest flush against the bed.

Seungcheol is ceaseless, licking into Jeonghan with needy and frantic hands holding onto his hips, keeping him as he wants him. His tongue laps at Jeonghan's hole, saliva painting the surrounding area, leaving Jeonghan's moans muffled into the sheets, body torn between rutting against the mattress and shoving back into Seungcheol's tongue breaching him.

The snick of a cap sounds, few seconds stretching between it and the added pressure against Jeonghan's entrance. When Seungcheol's tongue dips inside him again, his finger joins alongside it. Jeonghan's spine flickers with flames, belly heated as Seungcheol eats him out, replaced one finger with two and begins to fuck into him with rough and dragging thrusts of his wrist.

He adjusts his position, turns his wrist slightly and curves his fingers, brushing against the most sensitive part of him. Jeonghan's mouth falls open along with his legs, more than they were before. He pushes his hips back, fucking himself on Seungcheol's fingers, the white heat in his stomach building with every movement, every moan punching out of his throat.

"Ah, ah—Cheollie," he pants, the dampness from his precum staining the sheets sticking to his skin. "I'm gonna come—I'm gonna—”

Seungcheol's mouth leaves him while his fingers keep their pace. He straightens up, draping himself over Jeonghan's back, uses his other hand to grab Jeonghan's face, lifting it enough to press sloppy kisses to his neck and cheek. "I want you to feel good," he rasps into Jeonghan's ear, curving his fingers to nail his prostrate with every movement. "You look so pretty like this—fuck. All mine to touch, all mine to see like this. Want you to come, Hannie—”

Jeonghan spills into the sheets, moan muffled in the fabric, drool pooling out of his mouth as Seungcheol keeps fingering his until his thighs start to tremble. He knows it's not over, can feel the grind of Seungcheol's now free erection on the swell of his ass, the way it dips between his cheeks, the head catching on his hole for a brief moment before it slides over, only to repeat the same motions. Seungcheol's breath is hot against the back of his neck, small whimpers leaving him until he's manhandling Jeonghan back around with care.

Blond hair haloed around his head, Jeonghan finds himself as the object of all Seungcheol's desires, pinned to the bed by his half-lidded gaze dragging down, chest rising and falling with his breaths as he drinks Jeonghan in.

His hands find Jeonghan's knees, parting his legs and kneeling between them. His thumbs trace down, meeting right at the junction of his pelvis and thigh, the sensitivity making Jeonghan shudder with an inhale. "Can I—”

"Fuck me," Jeonghan encourages, dick twitching with interest again. "Please, Seungcheol. Fuck me, fuck me—”

Seungcheol is always so good. His hands abandon their previous task in favor of holding Jeonghan's face, leaning down to kiss him until it feels like his lungs may burn. Soft, slow. Tongue licking at the seam of Jeonghan's lips, coaxing his mouth open with a breathy sigh, devoting him with care and caution. Jeonghan is pliant in his touch, chest burning with love and lust when Seungcheol pulls away, lets his eyes dance between Jeonghan's with a fondness that makes Jeonghan bashful.

Seungcheol's smile drips like honey as his thumb presses against Jeonghan's bottom lip. "I love you."

Jeonghan's throat aches, eyes welling up despite himself. He can see the truth of it in Seungcheol's eyes, can feel it in his touch, wants to feel it as deep as it'll go. He pulls Seungcheol back down with a hand on the back of his neck, kisses him until it hurts to breathe again, and urges him with a leg wrapped around his lower back.

Seungcheol picks up on the request easily. He readies himself with one hand until his cock is slick, guides the tip against Jeonghan's hole, rocking into the heat slowly, slowly, slowly until Jeonghan's pleads become more frequent, higher in pitch against his mouth.

Then, he slides in. Jeonghan's eyes flutter shut, the heat inside of him scorching every insecurity, every thought plaguing his mind, leaving him with only one thing to think of: Seungcheol.

Seungcheol takes his time, makes Jeonghan fall apart until it feels like he's nothing but stringed fragments draped over the softness of the sheets. Every thrust is drawn out, leaving only the tip in until he's pushing back inside with the slap of his thighs against Jeonghan's pelvis. He holds the back of Jeonghan's neck, keeps their foreheads flushed together as he fucks Jeonghan with intention, hips rutting almost desperately before he regresses into something tamer, softer. Every ounce of love spilling over.

The need for more flickers in Jeonghan's stomach, hips rising up in attempts to meet Seungcheol's rhythm only for them to be tamed by Seungcheol's palms against his flesh, urging him to slow down, to enjoy it. But when Jeonghan's stubbornness becomes persistent, Seungcheol stills his movements altogether.

"Want you," Jeonghan whines, mouthing at Seungcheol's jaw, urging him to move. "Please—please, Seungcheol. Fuck me, baby—want you to fuck me—”

He's cut off by the loss of Seungcheol inside of him. Before he can complain, Seungcheol is seating himself against the headboard, pulling Jeonghan into his lap and guiding himself inside of him once again.

Like this, Jeonghan can feel every part of Seungcheol in every one of his movements. He chokes back a moan, knees bracketing Seungcheol's hips as he leans back, taking more of Seungcheol in until. Seungcheol's hands are on his hips again, guiding him into grinding back and forth, chasing his second orgasm as it starts to build up again. It starts to teeter the line of tender and frantic, Jeonghan's hips faltering as Seungcheol's hand presses against his lower back, urging him to keep going.

"Oh my god," Jeonghan moans, head falling back as Seungcheol starts to jerk him off in time. "Cheollie—Cheol—”

"Just like that," Seungcheol praises, eyes dragging down Jeonghan's body. "Ah—you're so beautiful, baby. So fucking pretty—keep fucking yourself on me, make yourself feel good."

It isn't hard to do when the praises and encouragement spill out of Seungcheol's mouth accompanied by his heated touched and his cock against his prostate with nearly every breath. Jeonghan's movements get sloppy, careless as he nears his orgasm.

Seungcheol is there to guide him, abandoning his touch on Jeonghan's erection in favor of grabbing his ass, using his strength to lift Jeonghan just enough to fuck him down onto his cock until the slapping of their skin is accompanied by every ah, ah, ah tumbling out of Jeonghan's mouth.

His orgasm comes knocking him over onto Seungcheol, arms latching around his shoulders for some stability as he spurts weakly onto both of their torsos.

Seungcheol is close behind, hand tangled in Jeonghan's hair to force their mouths together for the few seconds it takes for his jaw to slacken with a moan, spilling into Jeonghan with a series of sloppy thrusts.

His kissing continues as they come down, the two of them lazily making out until Jeonghan's closed eyes begin to feel heavier and heavier, his body only held up by Seungcheol's own. It's then that Seungcheol holds him closer, does his best to get them both out of bed efficiently. Eventually, he's standing, holding Jeonghan like a koala and moving them into the bathroom, turning the shower on and allowing it to heat up as he turns his attention back to Jeonghan. A kiss on his shoulders, his neck, his cheek.

It isn't until they're tangled beneath the spray of the shower that Seungcheol finally speaks, voice vibrating in Jeonghan's ear from where he's tucked into Seungcheol's thick neck. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired," Jeonghan says through a huff of laughter, pressing his lips together when he's met with a hum. "Better, I think. I'm sorry—I don't know what got into me."

"Don't be sorry," Seungcheol reminds him. "I understand. I just want to make sure it was, um. Good for you. Did I do good enough?"

Jeonghan blinks, taking in Seungcheol's words carefully. He straightens up to make sure he's looking into Seungcheol's eyes properly. "You're always more than enough. Always. You give me more than I probably deserve and… And I know you love me. I know that's not going away because I feel it the same, Seungcheol."

Seungcheol's eyes glisten. His bottom lip trembles slightly before it's tamed by a soft smile. "Thank you."

The silence that settles between them is newer—amplified with softness and care. They follow their usual routine wrapped in the stillness that it brings; Seungcheol washes Jeonghan's hair, Jeonghan kisses the tattoo below Seungcheol's neck.

Later, they sleep in the comfort of certainty and everything saturated in its rosy and familiar hues.

✑

Morning comes with golden sunlight and Seungcheol's handwriting on Jeonghan's spine. In and out of slumber, it takes Jeonghan a good hour until he's sitting up in the crisp sheets Seungcheol replaced right before they laid down. The space beside him is empty but before he can call out in question, Seungcheol is back in the room, dressed for a morning out.

Jeonghan's curious and sleep addled expression is enough for Seungcheol to chuckle. "Let's go for a walk."

"A walk?" Jeonghan teases, tilting his chin up to receive the kiss being offered. "For fun?"

"What? We can't enjoy the nice air and hold hands?"

Jeonghan laughs but can't find it in himself to try and rebuttal that. Grey skies accompany the coldness of the air. The news says it might snow—earlier than the previous years, Seungcheol informs him, but the chance is still high. When a bitter gust of wind nips at their noses and floods their cheeks with a kissed blush, Jeonghan finds the chance of snow more likely.

Their walk leads them to a park overlooking the river. Most of the benches are abandoned, people most likely choosing to spend the day nestled in the comfort of their homes with heated floors and thick blankets draped over their lap.

The warmth of Seungcheol's body against his own rivals it all. Jeonghan leans into it, lets his head fall against Seungcheol's shoulder until he feels a shift.

Before Jeonghan can ask what it is, Seungcheol is tucking a hand into his jacket. A familiar red makes an appearance and Jeonghan stills.

"Why do you—”

"We're getting rid of these," Seungcheol says over him. He hands him the letters, dipping back into his jacket and holding a lighter.

"Seungcheol," Jeonghan tries. "We don't have to—”

"These aren't important to me," Seungcheol says. "But you are. And I know you—throwing them away won't feel as good as burning them, will it?"

"Wah," Jeonghan laughs through a breath. "You love me."

The smile on Seungcheol's face widens as he pushes the lighter into Jeonghan's palm. The flame flickers on, its blue center enveloped by orange and yellow. The corner of the red envelope is dusted in the same colors, soon reduced to nothing but ash and embers floating down onto the floor, their light dimming into nothing. Slowly, the letters disappear, plucked from existence like the love that loitered inside.

Floating embers are soon replaced by the timid falling of the first snow, melting on Jeonghan's nose as he tilts his head up into the grey sky.

Like most things are with Seungcheol, it's nothing short of perfect, perfect, perfect.