Work Text:
When Soobin thinks back to this day, he’ll mostly remember how many things he was feeling at once.
Only November, but it’s snowing. Sunny and warm, chilly and wet—tiny flecks of white that fall from the sky onto Yeonjun’s parted hair and eyelashes, dusting the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket and the flower pinned at his lapel.
Around them their friends and family sport expressions ranging from amused to adoring. Yeonjun smiling, wistful, eyes wide at the surprise snowfall. And then Soobin himself, standing beside him on the altar and looking at Yeonjun looking at Soobin looking at Yeonjun. Soobin’s first friend, his best friend, his everything, before yesterday, maybe his nothing at all.
The snow doesn't stick; it’s not cold enough for that. But the flakes embrace them like diamond dust, ice crystals. And Soobin—Soobin thinks he’s in love.
***
“You remember how I got offered that new job, right? With the American university?”
Yeonjun glances up from where he’s sleepily shoveling spoonfuls of cereal into his mouth and looks at Soobin like he’s crazy. “Do I remember that you finally got offered a position at your dream job last month? Um… yeah?”
They’re both sitting at the little yellow round table they’ve stuffed into the corner of their apartment kitchen. The position in question is at the University of California, where he’s been asked to lead (lead!) a team of researchers studying how variations in dialects impact Korean learners of English. But that doesn’t start until next year—for now, Soobin’s already dressed for work. He’s a psychologist working at a small college in Seoul, in their even smaller linguistic department.
Yeonjun’s slower in the mornings, has a bit more time to eat and get ready before he has to be at… well, wherever the hell Yeonjun has to be on a Wednesday morning. It’s been years and Soobin still can’t quite explain what Yeonjun does for a living with confidence, except that it’s something to do with dancing or singing or fashion or photography. Also, that he certainly makes more money than Soobin currently does. And that he’s vaguely famous. (They sometimes get stopped in the grocery store and Beomgyu insists that Yeonjun’s an influencer, which hasn’t cleared up anything for Soobin at all.)
“And you know how it’s in the States?”
“Yeah,” Yeonjun repeats slowly. “California, right?”
“Right!” Soobin agrees. “This next part’s funny. So I accidentally kind of sort of waited too long to call the overseas immigration office and apply for my work visa. Which I need. Since I’m not an American citizen and all.”
Yeonjun doesn’t laugh. “And?”
“And apparently it takes up to eight months for the paperwork to process, which isn’t gonna work, obviously, because my job starts in four months.”
“And?”
“And,” Soobin continues. “I accidentally kind of sort of just remembered that you’re an American citizen.”
Yeonjun still doesn’t look like he’s following. “I mean, I was born there and went to elementary school for like half a grade, but yeah, sure. So?”
“So.” Soobin says the next part really quickly. “WhatifyoumarriedmesoIcouldgetavisa?”
“What?” Yeonjun puts his spoon down and blinks.
“I looked it up online and there’s this really tiny loophole where you can remain within the country on a tourist visa while attending your wedding or honeymoon to somebody who is an American citizen, and then if can you prove that the relationship is real you’ll be eligible for a marriage visa,” Soobin continues, no stopping now. Why does this sound so much more insane now that he’s saying it aloud? “And it would only be for long enough that the immigration people can confirm it. We can get a new apartment in the States for a while since it doesn’t really matter where you work from. And we wouldn’t have to like, share a bed or anything, and all our family and friends can be in on it, and literally the minute I get my work visa we can get divorc—”
“When?” Yeonjun asks.
“—And I promise I won’t make it weird and that I’ll totally pay our Netflix bill for the next decade and…What?”
“When,” Yeonjun repeats, slowly this time, like Soobin is the one not following. “When are we gonna have the wedding? Because you know my cousin’s having her baby next month, and she’d kill me if I took the family spotlight.”
Soobin deflates. “Uhh, like, November, I guess?”
Yeonjun nods thoughtfully. “That should work.”
“Wait, so you’ll do it?” Soobin asks, because there’s no way that was so simple. “Like, really? You’ll… marry me?”
“Netflix on you for a decade, right?”
Soobin nods cautiously.
Yeonjun picks his spoon back up; he’s smiling a little bit between bites, now. “Then sure, why not?”
***
Telling their parents is surprisingly easy.
Soobin’s were already aware of his issues with the immigration department, and they and his siblings considered a wedding to be a perfectly viable solution to the problem. Of course, their family would pay for everything—they’ve been beyond excited for Soobin’s new job, and it’s their duty, his mom insists, to help the baby of their family as he takes this next step in his career.
Yeonjun’s parents are the wild card—Soobin’s guessing that when his mom happened to give birth to their son in an American hospital, they weren’t imagining he’d use his citizenship status to marry friends in exchange for free streaming services.
Soobin had always been close to them, even called Yeonjun’s mom Eomma , but they were definitely the stricter set of parents growing up. Yeonjun was their only baby, whereas Soobin’s older siblings had taken the brunt of his parent’s sternness. Soobin remembers being there for moral support when Yeonjun had come out to them all the way back in middle school, holding hands on the couch they played tag around as kids and trembling with nerves.
Needless to say, Soobin is nervous as fuck. They’re perched on the old gray couch in Yeonjun’s house again, over a decade later, still shivering, still holding hands, just a little bit taller.
“We should just say it—”
“Maybe I should start by talking more about the job, first? They were really excited for me—”
“It’s gonna sound like you’re exploiting me—”
“Oh my god, don’t say it like that. Wait, am I—”
So of course they’re both surprised when Yeonjun’s parents walk out of the kitchen and his mother says, “What’s all the fuss? Soobin’s mom called me yesterday. We’ve already started planning!”
***
Once their parents are in on it, they tell their friend group over the weekly lunch they’ve been trying to have ever since graduating from university. They already know about Soobin’s work, Soobin has even consulted Kai about his own experiences with the immigration office. It doesn’t take long to explain, and the three of them listen with raised eyebrows as Soobin and Yeonjun take turns recounting the story, up until informing their parents.
“So,” Soobin ends in a huff, “We’re getting married.”
There’s a beat. Then, three voices at once— “Finally!”
“Finally?” Soobin demands.
“We’ve been betting on when this would happen since like grade seven,” Kai says around a mouthful of food.
“And I just won,” Beomgyu quips gleefully. He stares pointedly at Kai and Taehyun. “I’ll accept payment through wire transfers, checks, cash—”
“No way,” Taehyun replies. “I said three years after college graduation, so technically I’m the closest.”
“Hey,” Kai protests. “I said before Soobin turns twenty-five and it’s not his birthday until December!”
“Okay, but I— ”
“This is just for my work visa,” Soobin interrupts, exasperated. “It’s not real. At all. I would’ve married any of you if you had an American passport, too. Not a big deal. Right, Hyung?”
Yeonjun hums, noncommittal, and takes a cool sip of his soda.
Taehyun snorts. “You would’ve married me? Or Beomgyu?” he adds, dodging as Beomgyu pinches his shoulder.
Soobin hesitates. “I mean… if you had citizenship, yeah.”
“If you say so,” Taehyun replies, voice colored with skepticism.
“This is really only for Soobin-hyung’s work?” Kai asks gently.
“Don’t look so sad, Kai-yah,” Yeonjun coos. “And the rest of you, perk up. You’re getting an all-expense trip to a destination wedding, courtesy of Soobinie’s parents.”
“Suddenly I’m interested again,” Beomgyu says immediately.
“As long as there’s an open bar,” Taehyun adds.
Soobin puts his head in his hands.
“Wait,” Kai says, and then he does perk up. “Who’s gonna be the best man?”
“Best men,” Yeonjun corrects drily. “You all made the cut—Congrats.”
***
There’s the American immigration lawyer that will be verifying the process, a middle-aged white woman with a severe haircut. They meet with her at the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, sitting in two hard plastic chairs across from her desk. She’s conducting a series of preliminary interviews with them, asking questions meant to ensure the truth and accuracy of their impending marital union, which is a nice way of saying you better not be just doing this for a visa.
She gives them a convoluted explanation involving things like “I-30 forms,” “lawful conditional residence,” other government-issued words that Soobin doesn’t yet know well in English, barely understands what these things are in Korean. And the thing is, Soobin isn’t a good liar.
His head is spinning a bit but at least Yeonjun’s there, holding his hand between their chairs for show. What’s not pretend is the light squeeze he gives to comfort Soobin, like, it’ll be fine.
“Do you want kids?”
Yeonjun is a good liar; he takes it. “Sure, eventually, but not until we’re settled, especially with Soobin’s new job and us moving to a new country.”
“How did the two of you meet?”
Soobin exhales with relief. This one he can answer.“We’re family friends—our moms were close so we’ve known each other forever. We went to all the same schools, even university.”
“Hmm.” She types something on their file.“And when did you begin to like each other romantically?”
Soobin chokes. They’d gone over some pre-planned answers so they wouldn’t be put on the spot, mostly deciding to stick close to the truth to make things as uncomplicated as possible. First date? (movies.) Who proposed? (Soobin, technically true.) Even, who kissed who first? (Yeonjun, also technically true, if that one practice peck in the fourth grade counts.) But they hadn’t gotten to this one.
Yeonjun covers for him, sliding in and answering like he’d already memorized it. “Probably… the end of high school? That was around the time that Soobin realized he also liked guys, and I hadn’t really ever considered him as an option until then. But then he came out to me and suddenly it was like a whole new world, you know? My best friend, someone who I already loved in every other way, could be more. It just made sense.”
Soobin gapes, then shuts his mouth before the immigration lady can notice. Okay, so Yeonjun’s really good at this. He swallows and attempts to add to Yeonjun’s answer. “Um, yeah. Same for me. I guess Yeonjun was probably part of the whole I-like-guys realization. He was, uh, handsome.”
(Technically true.)
***
There’s also the matter of gathering the evidence.
Yeonjun’s out for work, but Soobin sits at the kitchen round table with Kai, who brings over the prints from the fake-vintage polaroid camera he’d used during college. First, legal documents.
Proof that they’ve lived together prior to the marriage? Check. That one’s easy, Soobin and Yeonjun have been roommates for years, and both of their names are on the apartment lease contract.
Affidavit letters of support? Check. They’ve enlisted Soobin’s older sister and a grudging Taehyun to attest to the “genuineness” of their marriage with short letters addressed to the immigration office.
Text message and phone call records that prove Soobin and Yeonjun talk on a regular basis? Check and check. They print out pages of screenshots of their mundane conversations on KaTalk over the years—there’s even Yeonjun cutely joking Soobinie saranghaeng about a hundred times.
Social media records that prove others know of their relationship? Check. They wish each other happy birthday on Instagram every year, alongside a dozen other tagged photos and tweets.
Soobin gathers it all, prints or makes copies, and tucks it into an orange manila folder.
Last is photo evidence. Soobin’s on his own laptop, Kai takes Yeonjun’s, and they comb through old and new albums for anything relevant.
“It’s funny,” Kai says, head hunched over the screen. “You guys already kind of look like boyfriends in a lot of these.”
Soobin flicks his arm.
“What, it’s true!”
But he has to admit that Kai’s kind of right, it’s simple enough to find pictures of the two of them looking coupley. Soobin supposes that’s normal for best friends, though, right? Here’s one of them on Yeonjun’s twentieth birthday, arms wrapped around each other, yellow frosting smeared on Yeonjun’s chin and nose and Soobin’s fingers. There’s also that time their families took a joint beach trip to Haeundae the summer after high school ended: hair damp and smiles silly, squinting against the sun. There’s even that one time—years ago—when they got super drunk and kissed on Beomgyu’s balcony on New Year’s Eve.
They have the professional graduation pictures their parents insisted upon, dozens of selfies of them at restaurants or on walks or chilling on the couch at home, pictures of them at Yeonjun’s cousin’s wedding two years ago.
“Hey.” Kai passes over one of the polaroid prints. “This one’s really nice. Remember when you and Yeonjun had just moved off of campus and were freaking out all the time?”
Soobin inspects the picture. Yeonjun and Soobin are perched on the couch in pajama pants and fuzzy socks, haphazardly-opened cardboard boxes strewn all around the room. Soobin remembers this day, the morning after they’d moved into their first shitty box of an apartment. They’d texted in the group chat in anguish that they’d forgotten the box with all their non-perishable food and kitchen supplies in the moving truck. Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai had busted in with warm containers of breakfast takeout and cheap plastic materials first thing in the morning. Soobin had been so relieved he’d almost cried. It’s kinda obvious in the pic, but what he hadn’t recalled is this: as they both beam up exaggeratedly at the camera (humoring Kai, surely) Yeonjun’s eyes were a little shiny, too.
“Cute,” Soobin murmurs after a long second.
Kai starts. “What?”
“I think I’m just gonna keep this one, if that’s cool with you?”
Kai hesitates for a second, like he wants to say something more, but then—“Of course, I’ve been meaning to give these out to you guys for years.”
“Besides, we have more than enough to show to immigration,” Soobin continues, suddenly defensive. “And not everything is meant to be shared, you know?”
Kai nods at him. “I know.
***
“Sorry I’m late!” Yeonjun says, rushing into the dessert shop. He lightly squeezes Soobin’s upper arm as a hello. “Photoshoot ran long.”
“No problem, we just started,” Soobin replies, swallowing inelegantly around a mouthful of pistachio and rose cheesecake with pumpkin cider icing. Or something like that. He’s having trouble keeping up with the wedding cake’s section bubbly employee, a cute high school kid who runs around reciting flavors in a whirlwind. “No big deal, not like this matters that much. ‘Sides, they all taste good.”
“Even mint choco?”
Soobin shudders. “Okay, okay, not all.”
“If we’re doing this,” Yeonjun starts, sliding up to Soobin and linking their arms together at the elbow. “We might as well do it right.”
“Do it right?”
Yeonjun sighs. “You know, take it seriously—let’s at least get some good dessert out of it.”
So they do. Soobin plays along with whatever mood Yeonjun is suddenly in and they Take It Seriously, or as seriously as they can while laughing at the flavor combos the attendant comes up with and pointing out the cake crumbs on each other’s faces. The kid brings them samples of red velvet coffee tiramisu and glazed key lime with mousse. They spend about half an hour taking turns eating and sighing in delight (or grimacing,) while the employee takes some notes.
“You have something on your face, idiot—” Yeonjun reaches up, to skim the corner of Soobin’s lips. He pulls back with some soft pink frosting on his pointer finger and… and he puts it into his own mouth, plump pink of his lips separating to lightly suck the frosting off.
And Jesus fucking Christ is Soobin still in high school? Soobin freezes, his mind going blank and staticky and pink, pink, pink. There’s a weirdly familiar, totally inappropriate warm feeling curling in his lower belly, and his face is aflame. Yeonjun doesn't even linger, already turning around to mention his cousin’s peanut allergy with the young employee.
When Yeonjun turns back around, Soobin blurts, “Let’s get the pink one.”
Yeonjun smiles, something secret. “I was thinking that too.”
The kid who’s been helping them claps, delighted. “The rose buttermilk cake with strawberry filling and pink champagne mascarpone icing? I’ll ring you guys up!”
***
“Bless you,” Taehyun says tiredly. “Jesus, that’s like the fifth time.”
Soobin gestures around vaguely at the hundreds of flowers surrounding them and whines, “It’s not me, it’s the pollen.”
Taehyun makes an evasive noise, continuing to browse through the choices. They’re supposed to be picking a few flower options for Soobin’s mother to work with for decor, but mostly Soobin’s been rubbing his watery eyes while Taehyun huffs and puffs. Soobin’s not gonna lie—he’s sort of been avoiding Taehyun since the wedding announcement. Ever since he’d found out, Taehyun had been sending him passive-aggressive text messages that Soobin couldn’t decode, shooting half-glares in Soobin’s direction whenever they were together. Soobin can’t figure out what he did wrong, but he’s decided the best course of action is to not bring it up. That’s how he handles most things in life, and so far it’s been working.
“I’m thinking these?” Soobin asks, pointing to some simple but pretty white flowers. “The florist says they mean close friendship. You know, platonically.”
Taehyun snorts. “It’s a wedding.”
“Not a real one,” Soobin reminds. “What do you think, then?”
“What about these?” Taheyun suggests, picking up a bouquet of blue and white flowers. The tag below reads delphiniums. “They’re nicer, and more romantic.”
“Romantic?” Soobin sighs, but then he takes a closer look. “Oh, these are nice! They kinda fit Yeonjun’s whole eye-catching but tasteful vibe, you know?”
Taehyun scoffs. “Eye-catching but tasteful. Are you okay, lately?”
Soobin ignores him. “And the color reminds me of that hoodie he has, the one he always wears.”
“That blue hoodie is Yeonjun-hyungs? I thought it was yours.”
Soobin considers. “Oh, huh. I guess it is. Hyung wears it more often though.”
Taehyun narrows his eyes. “Hey, Soobin.”
“Mmm?”
“Have you and Yeonjun…have you guys actually talked about all of this?”
“The wedding? Of course.” Is this what Taehyun’s been worried about? Them talking?
“No,” Taehyun says slowly, in his how-am- I- the-dongsaeng-here voice. “Like, have you guys talked about. The two of you. Getting married. To each other.”
Soobin frowns. “Yeah, isn’t that what I just said?”
“Jesus,” Taehyun mutters under his breath. “Forget it, you’re a lost cause.”
“What?”
“Don’t say I didn’t try.”
Soobin still doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so he says, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“How about,” Taehyun says loudly and very abruptly, “We get these ones for our tux boutonnieres? They’ll match the blue perfectly.”
***
“Look,” Yeonjun tells him, because he’s kind of amazing at this type of thing. “This one is perfect.”
Thin, silver, simple, exactly the type of thing Soobin could wear on his finger every day for as long as they’d need to without feeling overwhelmed. It’s Yeonjun who can handle the dangly earrings and chunky necklaces or stacked rings—Soobin had caught his eyes sliding over the more intricate wedding bands when they’d walked into the jewelry shop, rings Soobin could only describe as gaudy. But he’s picked these, because he knows Soobin.
“That’s a great choice!” One of the jewelers beats Soobin to answering, quickly opening the glass case and retrieving two identical rings. The metal’s cool when she places it in the middle of Soobin’s palm.
“What do you think?” Yeonjun asks, already with the ring sitting at the base of his elegant ring finger. “Pretty, right?”
And for a second Soobin can’t think. He just stares. Yeonjun, ring, Yeonjun, ring, ring, wedding, Yeonjun. Ugh. Taehyun’s right, is he okay lately?
“It should work, I guess,” is what comes out of Soobin’s mouth.
Yeonjun rolls his eyes. “Try yours, too."
Soobin does, unceremoniously dropping the ring onto his finger and letting it slide downwards, where it fits a little loosely. He holds his hand up for Yeonjun to appraise. “Good?”
“Hmm—“ Yeonjun links their hands together, turning them this way and that. And Soobin’s held Yeonjun’s hand before, more times than he can count, but this feels different. Fake or not, the implications of wearing a wedding band with another person are heavy on the heart. “Perfect,” Yeonjun repeats. He untangles their hands, and at least Soobin’s not the only one feeling tense; the tips of Yeonjun’s ears are pink.
The employee takes their measurements for the rings, asking them whether they’d like a warranty or a membership and adding annual cleaning appointments to check for wear. Will they even still be wearing these in a year?
The jewelry shop is doing a promotion for free engraving with every piece bought, and the lady helping them is really convincing, so fuck it, Soobin gets the three characters of Yeonjun’s name inside of his, and Yeonjun gets Soobin’s.
She asks them other questions, too, to make small talk—when’s the wedding and how’d they meet and who proposed. Questions Soobin can rattle off now, easy as his birthdate or apartment address.
If she’s surprised by how lightly they’re treating this, she doesn’t show it. Or—Soobin entertains this thought for only a half-second—maybe from the outside they don’t seem light at all, maybe they come off as serious and passionate as a real engaged couple would be shopping for wedding bands, in a way that Soobin can’t even notice himself.
They’re told to come pick them up in ten days, which will be just before they leave for the States.
***
Exactly one week before the wedding, there’s a final fitting for the ceremony. Beomgyu tags along with Soobin while Taehyun and Kai make plans to go with Yeonjun the next day.
It’s busy, lately: he and Yeonjun have finished packing up their apartment, Soobin’s put in his two-week notice at work, their parents are running around securing plane tickets for their extended family. So much for not making a big deal out of things.
Today they’re trying on the black tuxes they got fitted for last month—and, for Soobin and Yeonjun—also deep blue wedding hanboks, at the insistence of their grandparents. Somedays Soobin feels like he’s the only one who remembers that this whole wedding thing is just so he can work his dream job without getting deported.
“You look nice,” Beomgyu informs him, a rare compliment. He fixes the sash on Soobin’s hanbok with unusually gentle hands. “You know that I always figured you and Yeonjun would be the first to get married?”
Soobin inspects his side in the mirror. “Because we’re the oldest?”
“Not like that,” Beomgyu revises. “I mean, I always figured you guys would be the first to marry each other.”
Soobin groans. “Are you guys ever gonna stop with this bet thing?”
“I’m being serious.” Beomgyu pouts at him. “I’ve thought that forever.”
“But why?” Soobin splutters.
“Seriously? You guys live together, are basically adopted sons to each other's parents, and love each other more than most actual couples I know.”
Soobin winces. “Most of that criteria could apply to you and Taehyun, or any of us, actually.”
“Don't,” Beomgyu insists. “You know it’s different with you and Yeonjun. It’s always been.”
“Does it matter?” Soobin snaps, and then feels immediately guilty when Beomgyu recoils, removing his hands from Soobin’s torso. He adds more softly, “Sorry. There’s just… a lot going on right now.”
Beomgyu regards him. “With the fake visa wedding or the fact that you’re marrying Yeonjun?”
“I’m pretty sure those are the same issue.”
Beomgyu sighs.
Soobin looks at their full reflections in the paneled mirror. He does look nice—and old, when did he get so old? Beomgyu too, handsome and mature in his black jacket and bow tie. Soobin remembers first becoming friends with him and Taehyun and Kai. He’d been the youngest in his family for so long. Born in December, and the youngest amongst his classmates, too. Then suddenly, there came three boys even younger, looking up to him and trusting him without a doubt, asking him questions about the world that he didn’t even have the answers too, yet. His best friends, with one exception: Yeonjun. Yeonjun who was always a bit different for him, the person who Soobin could look up to and trust. When Soobin didn’t have an answer to a question, he’d go to Yeonjun, who always did. And when he brought that answer back to whichever of their friends was upset over homework or relationships or family life that week, Yeonjun always let them believe it was Soobin’s answer to start with.
Soobin thinks back on those days now and is sure the other boys had seen through their bluff, they must have at least sometimes. But that’s just how their friendship had worked for years, Soobin supporting everybody with Yeonjun’s help, Yeonjun supporting Soobin. And when Yeonjun let him, Soobin was there for him, too. It’s just how they worked, and Soobin couldn’t imagine any other life for himself. Without Yeonjun who understood and cared for him so well, without all his friends who maybe have more confidence in Soobin than he does in himself.
“Beomgyu-yah?” Soobin calls, unexpectedly choked up. He swallows, embarrassed.
“Yeah, Hyung?”
“You look nice, too.”
***
Two days before the wedding, their family members and friends are scattered throughout the plane cabin, headed to LAX. Maybe Soobin should be more anxious, but it’s an early-morning flight, and really, all he can think about is getting some more sleep. He shoots a quick text in his family group chat to make sure everybody’s seated and comfortable, then rests his head on Yeonjun’s shoulder as the plane takes off.
When they’re in the air, he lets out an amused laugh.
“What?” Yeonjun asks. He has an eye mask over his face, but his lips are slightly upturned, like Soobin’s laugh is making him smile.
“I don’t kn—” Soobin cuts himself off, suddenly in a full-blown cackle. “It’s—Oh my god—I don’t know.”
Yeonjun slides his mask off and looks at him, bewildered. “What the hell?”
Soobin laughs harder, a tear slipping from the corner of one eye. “I was just thinking that it’s funny. I never said bye to our apartment. Or, you know, the entire country.”
Yeonjun frowns. “Soobin—”
“Isn’t that funny?” Soobin hiccups. “The only place I’ve ever lived in the whole world and I forgot to say goodbye?”
“Are you cry— ”
“Like,” Soobin continues. “Who does that? I think I’m crying. Yeah, I’m crying. Sorry. This is weird.”
“Not weird,” Yeonjun begins, but he’s cut off as the flight attendant rows a cart into their aisle. Soobin hides his stupid crying face against the window and lets Yeonjun choose drinks for them, too tired to pretend to be shocked that Yeonjun chooses for him exactly what Soobin would’ve gotten himself.
The moment the attendant is gone, Yeonjun tugs Soobin towards him. “Soobinnie,” he says firmly, which is Yeonjun’s way of being extremely gentle.
“Oh, don’t,” Soobin protests. “If you hug me I’ll cry more.”
Yeonjun hugs him anyway. “We’ll come back,” he says, resolute. “Soon, too. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?” Soobin whispers.
“Of course, we can go home whenever you want.”
“No, I’m talking about… marrying me.”
Yeonjun laughs now, too. Soobin feels the vibration of it through his chest.“This is like, the thousandth time you’ve asked me. I’m sure. You know I’d do anything for you.”
Soobin thinks about that for a minute. “Are you scared?”
Yeonjun hesitates, then says, “What’s there to be scared of?”
Soobin snorts. “So you’re scared.”
“I mean I wasn’t exactly expecting to be on the way to my own wedding a couple months ago,” Yeonjun counters.
“But?”
“But it’s for you. It is you. It’s us.” Yeonjun shrugs, Soobin feels the motion of it. “If I’m gonna do this, you’re who I’d want to do it with.”
Do it for, Soobin wants to correct. But he’s even more tired after his little breakdown and the plane is thrumming comfortingly, Yeonjun’s shoulder strong and familiar against his cheek. He wants to go to sleep, he wants to let himself believe for once that Yeonjun meant what he said. So he sleeps, and he does.
***
They arrive in California the next afternoon. They’re staying with Yeonjun’s aunt and cousins that he stayed with for a while as a child, who have a large, modern house an hour away from Lake Tahoe. And more importantly—they have a huge and unused backyard, surrounded by impossibly tall pine trees. This is where their wedding will be.
They hug and kiss Yeonjun’s family hello, set down their suitcases. They’ll be staying here until the wedding’s over. Meanwhile Taheyun, Beomgyu, and Kai have taken a car to where they’ll stay, at Yeonjun and Soobin’s new apartment in Berkeley, to help unpack and set up their furniture. The rest of their relatives have gone to drop their things at a hotel fifteen minutes away. They take some time to settle in and eat lunch, and then it’s go time.
Yeonjun’s cousins had started without them. There are huge white tents set up out back, the trees around the property already draped with fairy lights and pale blue garland. Christmas isn’t for another month, but as they decorate, Soobin feels like it has come early. They drag in chairs and tables, organize the flowers he and Taehyun had picked what feels like years ago around the space. They put up a simple altar, and take a dance break when one of the younger cousins decides to test out the speaker system with the new BTS song. Someone’s uncle calls and confirms with the catering service, a sister-in-law runs to the store to grab more tape. The officiant who will be marrying them—a friend of a friend of Yeonjun’s aunt—comes by to introduce himself and go over any changes to the script. Soobin’s informed that their tuxedos have arrived from the shipping facility and are hanging safely in the closet in one of the guest rooms. It’s colder than it should be, but not so cold that they’ll be uncomfortable, and the weather forecast tomorrow promises sunshine. I hope it doesn’t snow, Soobin’s mom comments.
When set-up is over, they run through the ceremony quickly, so that everyone is on the same page. They’ve made a few changes to the traditional program; their moms will walk them individually to the altar. “I do,” Soobin says when it’s his turn to say it, and it’s not the real thing, most of the family has already gotten bored or cold and went inside for dinner, but his heart’s in his throat. Yeonjun echoes him. “I do.”
***
“Split this with me?”
Soobin’s out on the back porch when Yeonjun finds him. It’s a chilly night, and he’s sitting on the small steps, looking out onto everything they’ve set up in preparation for tomorrow afternoon, and he has to admit, it looks really good. He’s overcome with a wave of fondness. For his family, for his friends: how much they care about him and are willing to do for him.
Yeonjun’s holding a bottle of red wine, two stemless glasses.
“You’re not supposed to see the groom the night before the wedding,” Soobin jokes.
“You’re also not supposed to have two grooms,” Yeonjun counters. “Fuck tradition.”
He sits down beside Soobin and twists open the cap, pouring two larger than necessary servings into their cups and offering one to Soobin. Their hands brush; they both laugh, an awkward and quiet little puff of air from the nose. Soobin can’t remember if he got that habit from Yeonjun, or Yeonjun from him. Where one of them ends and the other begins. Soobin can’t remember.
They’re mostly quiet as they drink, only the occasional yawn and, “More?” interrupting the darkness. Soobin shows Yeonjun the pictures Kai had sent of their new place and Yeonjun nods at them. Behind the lights in the house are slowly going out as everybody tries to get enough rest before whatever chaos tomorrow will hold. Soobin’s tipsy so Yeonjun must be, too—the bottle’s mostly finished. They should probably go to sleep, too.
Soobin lets out a long exhale. “I feel like I haven’t actually said thank you for all this.”
Yeonjun makes a face at him. “You don’t have to thank me.”
“But I do, though,” Soobin insists. “I should, because I know it’s a lot that I’ve asked of you and that you could be doing other things—”
“What other things?”
Soobin grimaces. “I don’t know, getting into a real relationship or something. Work, your other friends back home. Your real life.”
“Why do you keep,” Yeonjun says abruptly. “Why do you keep saying that? That this isn’t real. You keep saying that, it’s not real, it’s not real. Why?”
Soobin’s surprised by the sudden intensity. “Because it’s… not?”
“But what do you mean by that? Do you think my life with you isn’t my ‘real’ life? That I’d rather be doing something else? Because that’s dense, Soobin, even for you.”
“What do I—” Soobin groans. “I don’t know, just that it’s an act right? Living together and pretending to love each other, and doing all this romantic coupley stuff.”
“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun says, and this time he sounds exasperated. “We do that already. We did all of that already, and I for one, haven’t been acting. This isn’t an act for me. Is it for you?”
“Are you drunk?”
“Answer the fucking question. Is this an act for you, Soobin?”
“I— no.”
“Then what are you thanking me for?”
Soobin throws his hands up. “God, Yeonjun! For doing all this for me? For moving across the country and memorizing vows and hitting your shin on that stupid tent earlier! For marrying me even though you don’t have to!”
But Yeonjun cuts off his hysterics with perhaps the most important thing anyone has ever said to Soobin in his life. “Yeah, but what if I want to?”
Soobin says, “Oh.”
“Would you like that?” Yeonjun wonders aloud, almost like he’s talking to himself. “I can’t tell with you. Sometimes I think we’re on the exact same page and then you say something that makes me rethink everything we’ve ever done together.”
“I like this,” Soobin blurts, then puts a hand over his face. “The wedding planning, taking the next step together, our families making a big deal out of it and everything.”
“Me too,” Yeonjun says earnestly.
“I keep thinking…” Soobin takes a deep breath. “I kept thinking that I wished it was real. That I’d actually asked you and we’d decided to do this together. But I guess I did ask you. And we did decide to do this together.”
“And it is real,” Yeonjun finishes. “As real as any other wedding, anyway.”
“Right,” Soobin agrees, because he’s drunk and exhilarated and genuinely doesn’t have anything else to say. Yeonjun, as usual, has said it all: it's real.
And anyway, they’re past the point of needing words. Soobin leans forward and Yeonjun completes the pose, hand coming to cup Soobin’s neck as they press their foreheads together and just sharing each other's space. Soobin lets his eyes fall shut, lets the warm air of Yeonjun’s breathing fan over his face. They don’t kiss, because they’ve waited this long, haven’t they? Might as well see it through.
Yeonjun pulls back first, and whatever he finds in Soobin’s expression makes him laugh, not a funny laugh but a fond one. “Husbands?” he says, like he’s trying out the word and discovering he likes it.
Soobin echoes him. “Husbands.”
***
When Soobin thinks back to this day, he’ll mostly remember how many things he was feeling at once.
Only November, but it’s snowing, if only because Soobin’s mom had said so. Sunny and warm, chilly and wet—tiny flecks of white that fall from the sky onto Yeonjun’s parted hair and eyelashes, dusting the shoulders of his tuxedo jacket and the flower pinned at his lapel.
Soobin’s niece is the flower girl, Yeonjun’s nephew the ring bearer. Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Kai stand behind them, sporting smug smiles, Kai already sniffling. Soobin can’t remember the last time everybody he loves has all been in one place like this—his high school graduation party? A funeral? Never everybody. Soobin likes this, he does.
“Welcome, family and friends.” The officiant’s voice rings out across the yard, the silence from the crowd full and loud and wonderful. “We are gathered here today to witness and celebrate the union of Choi Yeonjun and Choi Soobin. This is not the beginning of a new relationship but an acknowledgment of the next chapter in their lives together. Yeonjun and Soobin have spent years getting to know each other, and we now bear witness to what their relationship has become. Today, they will affirm this bond formally and publicly. Yeonjun and Soobin will mark their transition as a couple not only by celebrating the love between themselves, but by also celebrating the love between all of us—including the love of their parents, siblings, extended family, and best friends. Without that love, today would be far less joyous.”
(Technically true.)
“Choi Yeonjun,” the officiant says. “Do you take Choi Soobin to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”
Yeonjun says, “I do.”
“Choi Soobin,” he turns. “Do you take Choi Yeonjun to be your lawfully wedded husband? To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, in good times and bad times, for richer or poorer, keeping yourself unto him for as long as you both shall live?”
Yeonjun beams at him, something personal and sweet and achingly Yeonjun.
It’s so easy, then. Of course he does. Soobin says, “I do.”
Soobin doesn’t even hear the next part, his heart is pounding so loud in his ears. He barely realizes he’s supposed to be doing something until their little ring bearer comes up, holding the rings they’d picked at the jeweler two weeks ago on a decorative pillow from Yeonjun’s aunt’s living room.
The officiant turns to Yeonjun. “Yeonjun, place the ring on Soobin’s finger and repeat after me. I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge: to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”
Yeonjun does as he’s told, hands warm and steady over Soobin’s.
“Soobin-ah,” Yeonjun manages to say. He’s crying. “I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”
“And now… Soobin, place the ring on Yeonjun's finger and repeat after me.”
Okay, so they're both crying. “Yeonjun, Hyung, I give you this ring as a symbol of my love with the pledge to love you today, tomorrow, always, and forever.”
“Before these witnesses, you have pledged to be joined in marriage. You have now sealed this pledge with your wedding rings. By the authority vested in me, I now pronounce you married!”
And the crowd erupts in cheers.
Yeonjun and Soobin stand there staring at each other in wonder, frozen. Until finally, Beomgyu stage-whispers, “Kiss, you idiots!”
The kiss surprises Soobin because of how easy it is, like Yeonjun’s lips are home and Soobin’s been traveling for a long, long time. Not I could get used to this, but the sneaking suspicion that he’s already used to it. He knows what Yeonjun smells like (expensive cologne), what the curve of his jaw feels like beneath Soobin's fingers (heavenly). He even knows what Yeonjun is going to say when they part, and he beats him to it.
“I love you, too,” Soobin says. Yeonjun has the nerve to punch his shoulder. And then he pulls Soobin back in and kisses him again.
They’re married by sunset.
Afterward they’ll kiss some more, thick sweaters thrown over their tuxes, and dance the night away, Yeonjun leading. The snow will stop but Soobin won’t forget what it tasted like on Yeonjun’s lips. He’ll dance with his mom, then his dad, with his siblings and his grandparents. With Kai and Taehyun and Beomgyu. They’ll move in together for the fifth time, they’ll go home whenever they want. Soobin will start his new job, Yeonjun will be there, and it will be real.
But right now, around them, their friends and family sport expressions ranging from amused to adoring. Yeonjun smiling, wistful, eyes wide at the surprise snowfall. And then Soobin himself, standing beside him on the altar and looking at Yeonjun looking at Soobin looking at Yeonjun. Soobin’s first friend, his best friend, his everything.
The snow doesn't stick; it’s not cold enough for that. But the flakes embrace them like diamond dust, ice crystals. And Soobin—Soobin knows he’s in love.