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There's no sign that anything's wrong the day before. It had been Jungwon's twenty-sixth birthday and Heeseung had taken him to his favorite samgyeopsal place, bought him a cake with a teddy bear decoration from Paris Baguette afterwards. Jungwon had smiled mischievously when he smeared a dollop of chocolate cream on Heeseung's cheek, and after he'd blown out the candles, Heeseung had taken him home and whispered loving words into his skin as Heeseung made him come three times.
Now it's the morning after, and Heeseung's ready to make it four, rutting lazily against Jungwon's hip. Jungwon loves sleepy morning sex, coming to with Heeseung already deep inside his pliant body, and Heeseung always aims to please. He can feel Jungwon start to stir awake, so he cuddles closer, slinging an arm around Jungwon's waist, still swaddled in blankets. He feels so small, smaller than usual; Heeseung will have to feed him up more.
“Morning, baby,” Heeseung murmurs into the dark halo of hair that's peeking out of the covers. “Hope I didn't tire you out too much last night.” He grinds forward more purposefully this time and relishes in the shy little squeak that comes from under the blankets.
“Um.”
And then someone who looks like Jungwon peeks his head out of the covers.
Heeseung startles with a litany of curses tumbling out of his mouth.
This is not his Jungwon.
The stranger has Jungwon’s face, but not exactly. Rounder cheeks, bigger eyes, smudged with makeup. Heeseung's Jungwon hasn’t put on eyeliner since they were in college and going out to clubs until four in the morning.
This is not his Jungwon, but the way he looks at Heeseung with wobbly eyes and asks, “Hyung?” in his husky, sleep-ruffled voice – that’s exactly the same.
—
It turns out that Jungwon is Jungwon, no matter what parallel universe he’s in.
The first person Heeseung calls after he figures out what’s happened is Jaeyun.
“Oh, dope!” is what Jaeyun says, which is not what Heeseung wants to hear at that moment.
“What do you mean, dope,” Heeseung whisper-yells hysterically. “My Jungwon is gone and he’s been replaced with an eighteen-year-old Jungwon from a different dimension?! How is that dope?”
“Well, technically not a different dimension,” Jaeyun says, and starts prattling on about universes and thermodynamics and the space-time continuum.
Fucking physicists.
“Jaeyun-ah,” Heeseung interrupts him. “I’m trying to say this respectfully. I cannot emphasize enough how little I care about the physics of parallel universes. When am I going to get my Jungwon back?”
Heeseung can hear Jake’s cheerful shrug through the phone. “Space-time’s a funny thing, y’know? Maybe a couple hours, or a couple of days? Shouldn’t be more than a week.”
“A week?!”
—
Yes, Jungwon’s birthday was just yesterday, but Heeseung’s always been a poor planner. Jungwon knows this, and Jungwon loves him anyways, which is why he hadn’t questioned why Heeseung would book them a getaway to Jeju the week after his birthday.
“It’s going to be so cold, hyung,” Jungwon had complained, but he had a smile on his face as he said it, wiggled his way into Heeseung’s lap incredibly unsubtly.
“I’ll make it worth your time, I promise,” Heeseung had said.
Jungwon had replied a breathy “You better,” then slipped his hand under the waistband of Heeseung’s trousers.
—
Heeseung wants to make every moment for the rest of their lives worth Jungwon’s time. He has a ring in a box tucked away in his dresser drawers that says so, waiting for the perfect moment in Jeju.
—
Young Jungwon is taking events a lot better than Heeseung is. It makes sense – Jungwon’s always been the more level-headed of the two, a calm lake in the midst of a storm. Heeseung isn't a panicker, persay, but sometimes his thoughts get all jumbled up, like a jar of marbles spilling out on the floor.
“It's not like space-time irregularities are that rare, hyung,” Jungwon shrugs. He’s changed clothes, put on a shirt that belongs to Heeseung’s Jungwon. It’s too big for him, keeps falling off his shoulder and Heeseung can’t help but stare at the expanse of pale skin it reveals, baby smooth and soft. Heeseung feels something twist in his gut.
He clears his throat and pretends that everything is normal.
—
Heeseung calls off work for both Jungwon and himself. Irregular universe events are protected time off ever since they started happening three years ago. The theory goes that it’s best that the affected person learns as little as possible from a universe that’s different from their original one. No interactions, no news, no information. Basically, Heeseung and Jungwon are trapped at home until the universes right themselves again.
Heeseung is thankful that his mom just sent over some fresh side dishes last week. He looks at the rest of the contents in the refrigerator doubtfully.
“Are you okay with rice and doenjang jjigae for lunch?” Heeseung asks.
Jungwon looks up from the TV – he’s been enthralled with some daytime soap that he claims is different from the ones in his world. “Yeah, I love doenjang,” he beams up at Heeseung, smile blindingly bright.
It makes something in Heeseung’s chest ache, the way this Jungwon is so similar to his. Those bright eyes, his favorite foods, the way he curls himself on the couch like an overgrown kitten.
The spoiled glimmer in his eyes when Heeseung had told him he really shouldn’t be consuming any media from this world, and he had said please hyung? and batted long lashes at him.
Heeseung thinks he’s doomed to spoil Jungwon in any form there is.
They’re sitting down to eat when Jungwon looks at him with curious eyes. “So in this universe, you and I are…” He blushes as his sentence trails off, clearly remembering the events from the morning, but he refuses to break eye contact. A brave boy, through and through.
Heeseung slurps a spoonful of soup; it tastes fine. Maybe a little more doenjang paste next time. “We’re together,” he finally says. “We’ve been together for eight years now.” He probably shouldn’t be giving so much personal information away, shouldn’t tempt any more disturbances that will keep time and space from righting itself. But what can he do – he’s always weak to Jungwon.
“Oh,” Jungwon says, looking a little surprised that Heeseung actually answered him. He looks a bit more bold now. “How did we meet?”
“In university,” Heeseung replies, and starts piling Jungwon’s ricebowl with side dishes. Lots of cucumber, no bean sprouts. This Jungwon is entirely too skinny. “We were both in the band club together. You were a first year when I was about to graduate.”
“I did band club?” Jungwon says doubtfully. “I don’t know much about instruments, hyung.”
“Yeah, you dropped out after your first year,” Heeseung laughs. “Later you told me you only joined because I was there. It worked, though. We started dating like two weeks into the semester.”
“But you graduated after that year,” Jungwon says, a question neatly packed into a statement. He’s gone through all the cucumber in his bowl, so Heeseung gives him more.
“I moved back here after graduation to take care of my parents, and we did long distance while you finished university. I tried to convince you that you had better opportunities in the city, but you insisted on coming out here to live with me. Wasted your business degree to open a flower shop in a tiny town. You’re very stubborn, you know.”
Heeseung says it as a gentle rib, but Jungwon looks at him with bright, serious eyes.
“But you were here,” Jungwon says. “And we’re still together now, so…so nothing's a waste. Right?”
There's an earnestness in his voice, a young and innocent thing.
Sometimes Heeseung still worries that his Jungwon resents him and the small town life he's been relegated to. His Jungwon always denies it, sometimes sweetly, sometimes angrily. Sometimes a never, hyung, with a kiss to the tip of his nose, and sometimes a why won't you believe what I say? followed by a tense, awful night until Heeseung cracks and apologizes.
The Jungwon in front of him, just barely an adult, washes away his worries like a clear stream.
“You're right, Jungwon-ah.” Heeseung puts a little bit of bean sprouts in Jungwon's bowl, just to watch him wrinkle his nose in distaste. “Now you know too much about this world, you have to tell me about yours. To balance out the scales.”
Jungwon plucks the bean sprouts with his chopsticks and plops them into Heeseung's bowl. “I don't think that's how it works, hyung,” he says. But he starts telling Heeseung anyways.
Jungwon is an idol, Heeseung learns; he traded in taekwondo for singing and dancing early on. Heeseung can see it easily. Jungwon has a pretty face, and even as a non-celebrity in this world, he still gets second glances from passersby on the street.
What surprises him more is when Jungwon says “You're in my group, too,” and Heeseung can't help but burst into laughter.
“Jungwon-ah, I can't possibly be an idol.”
Jungwon bristles at that, like an irritated cat raising its hairs across its body. Cute. “Why not?”
“I don't sing, I don't dance. And I'm definitely not as pretty as you.”
Heeseung is teasing him, but Jungwon really is so pretty, even as he's scowling at Heeseung.
“But hyung, you’re so talented. You're the best of us, you take care of us, and – and you're handsome too, here and in my world.” The frown melts off his face as he talks, transforms into a shy, stuttery blush instead. The eye contact he had held so adamantly with Heeseung suddenly disappears.
A memory bubbles up to the surface, unbidden, the first time he and Jungwon fell into bed together – the nervous flutter of Jungwon's lashes, the way he trembled in Heeseung's arms. The pinkness across his cheeks, his neck, all the way down his slim chest. This Jungwon is pink and rosy and pure, just like when Heeseung first met his Jungwon.
He knows he's taken too long to respond because his voice comes out as a croak. “If you say so, Jungwon-ah.”
Jungwon tilts his head curiously at him, but doesn't push.
Just like his Jungwon – always waiting for him, steady and gentle.
—
Jungwon helps clean up, even though Heeseung insists he doesn't have to.
“Think of it as a thank you for lunch, hyung,” Jungwon says. He's already got his hands plunged into soapy dishwater.
“It really wasn't anything special,” Heeseung says, and starts wiping down the countertop. “I'm glad you liked my mom's side dishes though. My Jungwon likes them, too.”
Jungwon starts humming a tune, familiar but not. “I don't get to eat home cooked meals a lot, so it was really nice.” There's a wistful tone to the way he says it, and it makes Heeseung want to bundle up everything his fridge and somehow send it home with Jungwon, to his world.
—
Jungwon falls asleep on the couch after lunch. Heeseung tries to get some house chores done quietly, but their apartment is small, and every noise makes Jungwon stir restlessly. Heeseung had noticed the deep purple bags under his eyes when this Jungwon first appeared; it's clear that he needs the extra sleep.
Eventually Heeseung gives up and settles in the armchair across from Jungwon, a book in hand that he's been meaning to read.
Fifteen minutes later, he's not even two pages in, too busy stealing glances at the sleeping figure across from him.
His Jungwon hates to nap, says things like “We can rest when we're dead, hyung,” when Heeseung suggests taking a day off. This Jungwon is younger, but more worn down, somehow. Like he's run himself ragged too early in a race when what he really needed to do was pace himself.
In sleep like this, though, the exhaustion is smoothed from his face, leaving behind clear features. Strong brows, delicate eyelids. A neat swoop of a nose, a small pink mouth pursed in sleep.
Beautiful enough to leave Heeseung breathless every time.
“I can feel you staring,” Jungwon mumbles.
Caught red-handed.
Heeseung isn't flustered, though. Jungwon always accuses him of staring. “Can you blame me, Jungwon-ah? You're beautiful.”
Jungwon doesn't just flush pink this time; he goes bright red. But he refuses to open his eyes, just curls in on himself deeper to continue sleeping.
Heeseung smiles secretly to himself.
—
His Jungwon doesn't come back the next day, or the day after that.
Heeseung tries to be a grownup about it, offers Jungwon the bed while he takes the couch instead. He tries not to think about the days ticking down until their flight, and also tries not to think about how he never could keep his hands off Jungwon when he was eighteen, still can't keep hands to himself now.
It doesn't work.
Heeseung wakes up in the mornings with flashes of pale skin, wet eyes, pink lips clinging to him from dreams. A raspy sigh of hyung, a body writhing underneath his in syrupy pleasure.
It's not his Jungwon though, in his dreams. He's too delicate, too frail, thin wrists pinned in one of Heeseung's fists, wide innocent eyes that beg Heeseung wordlessly.
Heeseung wakes up hard and aching on the couch and resigns himself to a fate of cold showers.
On the third day that Jungwon doesn't come back, Heeseung looks up online articles on parallel universes, but the information is still sparse and new, either inane gibberish from conspiracy theorists or incomprehensible walls of text from scientists in academic journals.
Heeseung calls Jaeyun again.
“Can you please tell your peers to write their findings in a way normal people can understand,” Heeseung accuses.
“Last time you chew me out for speaking casually, this time because I'm not casual enough? Make up your mind,” Jaeyun retorts back.
They bicker for a few more minutes before Heeseung groans dramatically. “I just want my Jungwon back, Jaeyun. How do I make it happen?”
And Jaeyun must be feeling generous today because he doesn't laugh at Heeseung, just makes a sympathetic cooing sound that makes Heeseung feel pathetic anyways.
“Jaeyun, I'll take anything,” Heeseung begs, and Jaeyun sighs loudly at him.
“Look, you didn't hear it from me, but the social science department at my university is about to put out a new study. They interviewed people who had a switch happen to them like Jungwon, to see what brought them back. And they think the irregularities are like, a sign from the universe.”
Heeseung can hear the disdain dripping from Jaeyun’s voice at the notion of some unquantifiable mechanism controlling the universe. To him, everything can be reasoned with equations and calculations. He must love Heeseung a lot to share this kind of information with him.
“A sign?” Heeseung repeats.
“Like, both versions of Jungwon are – stuck, somehow. And they need each other to help get back on track. Once that happens, the universe will switch them back.”
Heeseung is silent as he processes the information. What could his Jungwon be stuck about? Something big enough that it was enough to send him to a different universe.
Heeseung thinks of sleepy towns and bottled-up dreams.
Jaeyun interrupts his thoughts, cheerfully as always. “Of course, I personally think that that theory is a crock of shit. But desperate times and all that, huh?”
Heeseung forces a laugh, and it sounds hollow even to his own ears. “Desperate times.”
—
Jungwon is sulky today, huffing irritated breaths as he paces the tiny living room of Heeseung's apartment. Heeseung's attempting remote work, but he gets distracted every time Jungwon stomps by and throws himself on the couch, turning the TV on and off, on and off.
Heeseung has heard the beginning of the same infomercial seven times when he snaps his laptop shut.
“We’re going outside,” he announces abruptly, startling Jungwon out of his tantrum.
“I thought I wasn't allowed to go outside,” Jungwon says. He's still sullen-faced, mouth pinched into a sour little pout. Sadly, it doesn't stop Heeseung from wanting to kiss it.
“You shouldn't, but if you keep pacing like this, the ahjumma downstairs is going to file a noise complaint, or I'm going to go insane. Your pick.”
Jungwon considers it for a moment, round eyes narrowing in thought. “Okay,” he finally says. “But you're buying me ice cream.”
—
Heeseung had forgotten that Valentine's Day was coming up. Now that he's in the middle of town, he's smacked in the face with reminders of it, signs for promotional goodies and Valentine's specials plastered in the few shops scattered around.
Jungwon picks Alien in Love at Baskin Robbins, walks out of the store with two scoops of it in a giant waffle cone. Heeseung thinks there's a joke to be made there somewhere.
Somewhere along the walk, Jungwon’s wormed his hand into Heeseung's pocket, complaining about the cold while taking bites out of his ice cream in a way that makes Heeseung's teeth hurt.
Heeseung shoves his own hands in his pockets too, because it is cold, and Jungwon links their fingers together. His hand feels tiny nestled in Heeseung's grasp.
“You know, I like you,” Jungwon says, as casually as he might note that the sky is blue. “The you in my world, I mean. And I think you like me back.”
“Oh,” Heeseung says dumbly.
Jungwon wiggles his fingers in Heeseung's grip. “I'm like 95% sure, hyung. He was going to take me out for ice cream on Valentine's.”
Heeseung isn't sure what he should say, so he mumbles, “I'm sorry if you miss it.”
Jungwon shrugs. “It's okay. We don't have this flavor in my world. It's pretty tasty.”
They make their way home, and Jungwon doesn't let go of his hand the entire way.
—
It's February 14th, and his Jungwon is still not back.
He feels guilty for Jungwon's missed date with his Heeseung. He says it’s fine, but his face is gloomy, and it takes him longer to get out of bed than usual.
Heeseung wants to make Jungwon feel better, so inexplicably, he shows him the box hidden under his sleep shirts, the ring tucked inside.
Jungwon blinks sleepily at him from where he's swaddled in the blankets still. “So were you going to propose today?”
Oh.
That would have been a good idea.
The vacant expression on his face prompts Jungwon to roll his eyes.
“You're hopeless, hyung.”
Jungwon makes fun of him the whole day, but there's a bounce in his steps, a glint in his eye. Heeseung feels satisfaction seeping, deep into his bones.
Jungwon curls into him in the evening, dozing off to some made for TV movie.
“I'm sure I'm going to say yes, hyung,” he muffles into Heeseung's shoulder. His lashes fan out across his cheekbones, pretty, pretty, so pretty. “So stop worrying.”
—
Jungwon has always preferred to show his affection physically, and now Heeseung knows that he does so across universes. Fingers looped together, a head on his shoulder, cold toes tucked under his thighs. Jungwon says I love you in a thousand tiny ways and Heeseung is more than happy to soak it all up.
Unfortunately, Heeseung also knows Jungwon well enough to know when he's toeing the line of something more dangerous.
For example, Jungwon had apparently woken up this morning deeming Heeseung's hoodie and a pair of sleep shorts appropriate clothes to lounge around the living room in. Every time his shorts ride up, Heeseung's eyes wander, raking across pale milky skin until he remembers that it's not his Jungwon, and he tears his gaze away.
It's worse because Jungwon catches him every time.
It's worse because Jungwon flushes pink, but hikes his shorts up higher anyways.
It's a clumsy sort of seduction, but Heeseung has always been too easy for Jungwon. Jungwon bites his lip, looks at Heeseung with hooded eyes, and drives Heeseung insane.
The whole morning passes like that, Jungwon looking at Heeseung like he knows exactly what Heeseung's thinking about, and Heeseung thinking about pinning him down and giving him exactly what he's asking for.
In the evening, Jungwon presses himself along Heeseung's back and loops his arms around him, fingers grazing just under Heeseung's shirt.
Heeseung snaps.
Between one breath and the next, he's pinned Jungwon against the wall, hands braced on either side of Jungwon's head. Heeseung has always been bigger than Jungwon, but right now, he absolutely towers over him. Heeseung feels sick with desire, twisted up and dying to span big hands over a delicate frame.
“Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung mutters roughly. “You need to quit it.”
Jungwon's lips part in a soft gasp, but then he's on his tiptoes, arching against Heeseung. “Quit what, hyung?” Behind the challenge in his voice is a tinge of uncertainty.
It's enough to drag Heeseung away from the edge.
“You're just a kid.” Heeseung puts his hands on Jungwon's hips and pushes their bodies away from each other. “You don't know what you're asking for.”
Jungwon scowls at him, eyes glittering indignantly. “I know what I want,” he says. “And I know you want it too. I see the way you look at me, hyung, it's the same way my Heeseung looks at me back home. And you're scared the same way he is, but I'm tired of waiting.”
“I'm not scared,” Heeseung says automatically. His heart is lodged in his throat, he has to keep breathing around it. Jungwon leans up to try to brush a kiss against his cheekbone; Heeseung pulls away.
Jungwon laughs humorlessly at him.
“Hyung, you're petrified. You're scared to just give in to what you want, you're scared of making the wrong choice. You're scared I'm going to say no, even though you know I won’t.” Jungwon's limp in Heeseung's grip now, the tip of his nose pink and sniffling. His eyes are wet and his voice is almost desperate. “But can't we just be together? Would that be so bad?”
Yes, Heeseung thinks awfully, selfishly. It doesn't matter if Jungwon thinks he knows what he wants. Heeseung knows that he isn't what Jungwon wants, not really. And Heeseung can't stand knowing that if he gives in, he'll take something from Jungwon that he can never give back. He’ll break in two if Jungwon turns out to regret this.
He peels his hands off of Jungwon’s hips and walks out.
—
Heeseung ends up at the playground nearby, swaying on a swing set as the sun sets.
His head has cooled off almost all the way now, enough that it finally dawns on him that he’s outside in a threadbare tee in the middle of February, and that he needs to get home to prepare dinner if he doesn’t want Jungwon to burn the entire apartment building down.
First, he fishes out his phone and calls Jongseong.
Jongseong picks up between the fourth and fifth ring. “Is our Jungwonie back yet?”
Figures that Jaeyun told him already.
“No,” Heeseung says. “And who says he’s our Jungwon, he’s mine.”
Jongseong scoffs, tinny through the speaker of Heeseung’s phone. “Well maybe this Jungwon thinks differently. I might have a shot this time.”
Jongseong had been in the class under Heeseung at university, another member of the band club. He had been enamored with Jungwon at first sight, but despite his best efforts, Jungwon had only had eyes for Heeseung.
Somehow, Heeseung and Jongseong stayed friends. Jongseong claims it’s only because he’s too busy running his father’s company to properly court Jungwon; Heeseung secretly thinks it’s because he’s too busy being obsessed with bickering with Jaeyun.
“Sorry, he’s into me in his world, too,” Heeseung says.
“Fucking figures.” Jongseong doesn’t sound hurt about it.
He and Jongseong shoot the breeze for a while, catching each other up about their lives. Jongseong took a completely different path from him after graduation, booked with meetings and appointments to the brim in his hectic schedule. The most Heeseung sees of him these days is photos on his social media of high-rise buildings and beach vacations in far-flung locales. It looks exciting, glamorous.
The highlight of Heeseung’s hometown is the cluster of five retail shops in the center of town.
“Maybe Jungwon should have taken you up on your job offer back then,” Heeseung blurts out.
A heavy pause, and then a sigh.
“Hyung. We’ve been through this before. If that’s what Jungwon wanted, then that’s what he would have done. He wanted you. End of discussion.”
It doesn’t feel like the end of discussion to Heeseung, though. It feels like a hanging thread, worn and frayed, like if Heeseung tugs hard enough, the life he’s built would unravel, gold rings and flower shops be damned. Jungwon could have a real career, one with a corner office in a high glass building somewhere, a luxury apartment to match. Instead, Heeseung is trying to tie him down even more to a worn down one-bedroom in the middle of nowhere, put a curse of forever on his left hand.
“I’ve trapped him here, Jongseong-ah,” Heeseung chokes out. “And now he wants me to do it again. He’s so young, Jongseong, you don’t understand. He’s asking for things he can’t understand the significance of, not yet. And when he does, he’s going to – he’s going to hate me.”
“Hyung. With all due respect, you need to snap the fuck out of this.”
There’s the Jongseong that Heeseung knows. Fiery and impatient, no time for nonsense when it really counts. “When has Jungwon ever done anything he's not sure of? He was ready for you to lock it in the minute he saw you. You really think he would leave you so easily? You must think very little of him.”
His words are like a bucket of ice water upended over Heeseung's head. “No, I – I think the world of him,” Heeseung stammers.
“But you aren't acting like it now, are you? You're acting like you get to make his choices for him, instead of trusting him.”
“I do trust him,” Heeseung argues.
“And that's why you're talking to me about it, instead of him?”
“He's eighteen, Jongseong.”
“The same age he was when you first started seeing each other. You beat yourself up over it back then, too, and look what that got you.”
When Jungwon was eighteen and Heeseung was twenty-one, Heeseung broke up with Jungwon. Heeseung had taken Jungwon's first time, then said to him, “I don't think we should see each other anymore.”
Heeseung had fallen too fast, could see Jungwon doing the same. But he was still young, he deserved more than what Heeseung could offer. Heeseung cut him loose for his own sake.
Heeseung spent the next three months drinking himself stupid, crying into Jaeyun and Jongseong's shoulders about how lonely he was, how guilty he felt towards Jungwon. He nearly failed his last semester.
Then Jungwon had shown up on his doorstep, perfect as ever with a steely gaze and a “Are you done being stupid, hyung?”
He and Jungwon had made up enthusiastically, and across many surfaces in Heeseung's apartment that day.
Heeseung had woken up with a text that said you're welcome from Jongseong, followed by a string of smug emojis.
Heeseung could never win against him.
Sometimes, he's grateful for it.
“You're right,” Heeseung finally says.
“Damn right I am. Now you better get your ass back home and hustle. If you don't watch yourself I'm going to get Jungwon a ring of my own, and it's going to be Cartier.”
—
When Heeseung gets home, it's still eighteen-year-old Jungwon sitting on the couch, staring up at the ceiling, eyes dry but red-rimmed.
His Jungwon never wallowed in tears much, either.
But then again, this Jungwon is his Jungwon, too.
Jungwon startles when he finally sees Heeseung, starts scrambling towards him. “Hyung, you're – you're back, I'm sorry –”
Heeseung tips him back on the couch, tucks Jungwon's head against the hollow of his throat. “No, Jungwon-ah, hyung is sorry.” He pets Jungwon's hair in soft slow strokes, lets the room settle to the sound of Jungwon's wet breaths, the creaking couch that he and Jungwon thrifted years ago.
It takes him a minute, but Heeseung eventually breaks the silence, talks into the soft strands of Jungwon's hair. He doesn't feel brave enough for eye contact, not yet. “You were right about everything. I was – I am – scared. I'm scared that I stopped my Jungwon from chasing his dreams, and I'm scared that if I give you what you want, you'll think this was all a mistake. If either of you ever regretted being with me, I – that would break me, Jungwon, I would never recover. I'm not giving you what you want because I'm selfish.”
Jungwon raises his head to look Heeseung dead in the eye. He always was brave when Heeseung couldn't be.
“But I want you to be selfish, hyung. I know you think I'm – young, or whatever, but I'm not a kid. And I want – I've wanted my Heeseung for so long, and I know he feels the same but he keeps pushing me away.” Jungwon's voice sounds watery again, but he goes on. “But now I got to come here and see how good it could be, and you still aren't letting me have it. And that feels so unfair, hyung, because it's not just what I want, it’s what you want, too. Right? You want me?”
Jungwon's words make Heeseung's heart stutter in his chest, because Jungwon is asking him point blank, no skirting around the subject like Heeseung has desperately been trying to do this whole time.
Because the truth is he’ll always love Jungwon, wants to be next to him, on top of him, inside him, wants to be as close to Jungwon as he possibly can. He's always tried to keep that greed at bay, even when his Jungwon clawed and begged him to show it. Heeseung was too terrified by it, the enormity of loving Jungwon so wholly that he might scare Jungwon away, that he might snap to his senses and leave Heeseung behind.
But the Jungwon in front of him looks just as greedy and desperate as Heeseung feels.
And maybe it's not so terrifying to want Jungwon so badly, to crave him, if Jungwon feels the same way.
“I want you,” Heeseung confesses, takes that final leap of faith.
Jungwon smiles at him, barely any crinkles around his eyes. He leans forward, eyes fluttering closed. Heeseung meets him in a kiss.
It's gentle, an innocent press of mouths that leaves Jungwon flushed in the face. Heeseung wants to see him turn pink all over.
“Come to bed with me,” Jungwon says shyly.
Heeseung goes.
—
For all of Jungwon's bravado earlier, he transforms into a bashful thing as soon as they step foot in the bedroom. He can barely look at Heeseung, eyes darting around the room like he's not sure what the next step is. Heeseung decides for him, pushes him flat on the center of the bed, laid out like every single one of Heeseung's fantasies.
He leans over Jungwon, knees bracketing his hips and forearms resting on either side of his head. Jungwon is small all over, makes Heeseung want to spoil him and dote on him and absolutely ravish him.
“You have no idea the things I want to do to you,” Heeseung says reverently.
Jungwon looks up at him with wide round eyes, trembling like he'll fly out of his skin if Heeseung doesn't touch him. Heeseung kisses him again.
He squirms in Heeseung's hold as they kiss, hands flitting nervously from Heeseung's shoulders to his chest before they settle in clenched little fists by Heeseung's sides. He tries to keep up with Heeseung, but he keeps letting out these half-gasps, half-whimpers, overwhelmed just by Heeseung coaxing his mouth open.
Heeseung lets him break off the kiss with a gasp, shaky as he mumbles, “Hyung, I’ve never…”
As if Heeseung doesn't know.
As if Heeseung wasn't the one to ruin him all those years ago.
As if Heeseung isn't going to do it again.
“Let me lead, sweetheart,” Heeseung murmurs, and Jungwon nods shyly before connecting their lips again.
Heeseung tries to take his time, he really does, but everything about Jungwon is intoxicating. Jungwon's mouth is hot and wet, slick and clumsy, the sweetest thing Heeseung's ever had the privilege of tasting. Jungwon moves his tongue in tiny kitten licks against Heeseung's, and Heeseung feels like he may combust any minute now.
“Baby, how am I supposed to go slow when everything you do drives me crazy,” he says, and Jungwon only whines in response, tips of his ears pink in embarrassment.
It's so adorable, Heeseung has to kiss him there, his nose, his chin too. Heeseung sucks open mouthed kisses down Jungwon's jaw to his throat, marveling over his soft pale skin, unmarked.
“Normally I'd turn your pretty skin all pink and red here, Jungwon-ah.” Heeseung traces a finger down the line of Jungwon's throat just to watch him shiver. “But I think I would see red if I saw some other man's mark on you, even if it was just a different version of me. We’ll let your Heeseung have the honors, hm?”
“Hyung,” Jungwon mumbles thickly, eyes hooded and hazy.
Heeseung rucks up the sweater Jungwon has on up to his armpits, bats away Jungwon's hands when he tries to mimic him.
“I want to learn how to make you feel good too,” Jungwon protests.
Heeseung laughs fondly at him, swoops down to kiss him again. “Jungwon-ah, you're going to learn this about me very quickly,” he says lovingly, a little condescendingly. “You make me feel good when you let me spoil every inch of you, when you let me make a complete mess of you. The only thing you have to learn how to do is lie there and look pretty for me.”
Heeseung skims his fingers across the flat plane of Jungwon's belly, smooth porcelain under his fingertips. Jungwon shivers, but he doesn't move an inch.
“Looks like you're already good at it,” Heeseung says. “Now let me touch you exactly how you like.”
He continues his journey of mapping out Jungwon's skin, reacquainting himself with his body from all those years ago. His Jungwon is small, too, slim like this. But the years have been kind to him, and biweekly trips to the gym have given him cords of muscle in his arms, his chest, his abs. This Jungwon is still a delicate wisp of a thing.
Heeseung replaces his hands with his mouth, little teasing kisses down Jungwon’s chest and stomach. Jungwon is panting shallowly, eyes fixed on the ceiling and fingers knotted into the sheets. That won't do; Heeseung wants him to witness exactly how he takes him apart.
“Jungwon-ah,” Heeseung calls. Jungwon’s gaze slides down, fixes on Heeseung’s face.
That’s better.
“Keep your eyes on hyung. I want you to see how well I take care of you.”
Jungwon, the perfect boy he is, listens to Heeseung beautifully. He watches Heeseung when Heeseung kisses down the velvety soft skin of his thighs, when Heeseung helps him out of his shorts and briefs, when Heeseung spreads his legs open to settle himself there and tells him that he’s pretty everywhere.
He keeps his eyes on Heeseung, wide and shaky, when Heeseung forgets that Jungwon at eighteen had hair-trigger sensitivity, gasping, “Hyung, I’m gonna –” immediately after Heeseung wraps a loose fist around his cock.
Jungwon’s cum stripes Heeseung’s cheek and he’s blubbering, “Hyung, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to,” even though his hips are still kicking, chasing the dry friction of Heeseung’s hand. His eyes are wild and wet, boring into Heeseung’s face like he’s begging. Heeseung’s chest clenches and his cock throbs at the sight.
“Don’t be sorry,” Heeseung murmurs into the thin skin stretched across Jungwon's hip bone. “You’re always so sensitive, it drives me insane. You can always come when you need, sweetheart, you can have it whenever you want.”
Heeseung means what he says – perfect boys should always have whatever they want, and Jungwon is his perfect boy.
He wraps his hand around Jungwon’s half-hard cock again, and Jungwon sobs.
“Let me keep going, Jungwon-ah. I’ll make it good for you, I promise,” Heeseung pleads.
His Jungwon can take it, when Heeseung gets that manic look in his eyes and can’t keep his hands off of him, makes him count how many times Heeseung gets him off in one night.
This Jungwon is still so fragile, so delicate; Heeseung doesn’t want to break him.
So when Jungwon spreads his legs wider and whispers, “Please,” Heeseung’s heart blooms in his chest.
Heeseung takes his time, uses his hands and mouth to tease Jungwon back to full hardness. Jungwon just hiccups out tiny little moans while Heeseung works him slowly to the peak of pleasure, careful to not send him tumbling off the edge again, not just yet. He needs Jungwon to feel good, to focus on the pleasure as Heeseung opens him up for the first time.
Jungwon’s body is shy and lovely, tries to resist Heeseung so much that Heeseung ends up using half a bottle of lube to work Jungwon open with one finger, then two, then three. Jungwon comes again when Heeseung works in the third finger, clenching tight when Heeseung just barely brushes his prostate. “Hyung – what was – I don’t –” he gasps wetly when Heeseung keeps petting him there, eyes glistening with confusion and desperation and pleasure. Heeseung wants to drink him up dry.
“That’s your sweet spot, baby,” Heeseung teases. “You love when I play with it, you know. You get all whiny when I finger you if I don’t give it enough attention, it’s adorable.” Heeseung jabs his fingers into it again, just to watch Jungwon arch off the bed with a shout of “Ah, hyung.”
Jungwon trembles through a third orgasm, quick on the heels of the second. He mewls wetly when Heeseung tries to fit his pinky in. “H-hyung, it can't, it's too – I'm too full,” he stammers, but his body betrays him, hips tilting to give Heeseung better access.
It's deja vu.
“You said the same exact thing the first time we did this, baby,” Heeseung says patiently. He spreads his fingers, stroking Jungwon from the inside to help him relax. “But I'm just getting you ready for my cock, sweetheart, or else it won't fit. You'll love it, had you screaming for more as soon as I got in you the first time we did this.”
Jungwon shudders when Heeseung crooks his fingers. “A-and. I was good for you?”
“The best,” Heeseung promises.
Jungwon swallows, then nods. “Then I can take it, I'll be good for you too, hyung.”
Heeseung has to tuck away a laugh. Of course Jungwon is going to be competitive, even against his own self. Instead of saying anything, Heeseung grabs a pillow to fold under Jungwon's hips so he can tilt him open easier.
The third finger was already a stretch, Jungwon's pretty little hole just barely accommodating what Heeseung is asking from it. He traces his pinky around the rim, watches the way it clenches red and puffy, and Heeseung's mouth goes dry.
The air suddenly feels unbearably thick, and Heeseung is all at once acutely aware of his T-shirt sticking to his back from sweat, the ache of his cock still trapped in his underwear and sweatpants. All the desperation he's tamped down until now comes roaring back, electricity zapping through his veins, making him less careful than he should be. He drags his fingers out until just the tips keep Jungwon open, then crams his pinky in alongside the rest.
Jungwon opens his mouth on a silent scream, and for one brief moment, Heeseung panics that he's hurt him.
Then, Jungwon breaks.
“Hyung, please,” he gasps, squirming against the sheets, the most beautiful scene Heeseung has ever witnessed. “Pleasepleaseplease. More, please.”
“Yeah sweetheart, gonna give you more,” Heeseung says, barely clocking how crazed he sounds. “Gonna get you wide open, give you my cock, you want that? Tell me you want it.” He twists his wrist to loosen Jungwon up even more. Jungwon is hard again, dripping even more of a mess on his belly.
“I want it,” Jungwon sobs. “Want your cock, hyung, please, please give it to me, hyung.” There are tears collecting in the corners of his eye, like he’s devastated at the thought of Heeseung not filling him up.
He's the sweetest thing Heeseung has ever seen; Heeseung won't make him wait.
He pulls his fingers out carefully, makes soothing noises when Jungwon whines almost indignantly at the loss. But when he makes quick work of his pants, he can't help but feel a little smug when Jungwon’s eyes go round and he squeaks hyung, like he doesn't quite believe what he's seeing.
“Told you I was big, sweetheart,” Heeseung says. He slicks up with lube and gives himself a slow, luxurious stroke, shows off a little if only to see the way Jungwon's eyes track the movement of his fingers as if he's in a trance.
Heeseung wants to tell him that he'll always be a bit stupid for Heeseung's cock, how his Jungwon's eyes still glaze over as soon as he sees it, imagining it filling him up.
“I want it, hyung,” Jungwon breathes. “Want it so bad. Will you help me take it?”
Jungwon's hair is a mess and his cheeks are a blotchy pink. His lips are red and swollen, looks just as abused as his little hole. Somehow, he still looks like an angel, glowing and innocent and pure.
Heeseung is greedy for that last bit of innocence clinging to Jungwon's body, wants it all to himself.
He grips the backs of Jungwon's thighs and pushes them up, up, all the way until his knees are practically touching his chest. Jungwon's hands sneak up against his, like he wants to hold himself open when Heeseung fucks him for the first time.
Perfect boy, Heeseung thinks again helplessly.
He's glad that he warmed Jungwon up on four fingers first, because just nudging the head of his cock against the pucker of Jungwon's rim makes Jungwon gasp and clench nervously.
“I – Are you sure I can do this?”
And if Heeseung didn't know any better, he might reassure Jungwon that he doesn't have to do anything he doesn't want to, that Heeseung could make him feel good in a hundred different other ways instead. But Heeseung does know his Jungwon, everything about him, inside out. Knows that Jungwon just needs that extra push, wants Heeseung too bad to deny himself when he's so close.
“Of course you can, but you've gotta stay loose, baby,” Heeseung says, tries to soothe Jungwon with a stroking hand up his flank. “You can do this, just have to relax, be good and open up for me, sweetheart.”
Jungwon nods, and Heeseung can see him trying to relax, but every time Heeseung notches the head of his cock against his hole, he whimpers.
“I can't do it, hyung,” Jungwon says, devastation and desire written across his face. It only makes Heeseung more determined to get inside of him, feel the squeeze of Jungwon's walls around him.
“Sweet boy,” Heeseung soothes him. “Sweet boy, don't worry, hyung will help you.”
If Heeseung was feeling patient, he would let Jungwon come again, let that relax him enough to accept Heeseung. But Heeseung isn't feeling patient, he's greedy to see if he can fit inside, make a space just for himself in Jungwon, be the only one to do so.
So he squirts another dollop of lube directly on Jungwon's hole instead, hooks a finger to open it back up, and pushes in, just enough for the head of his cock to pop inside.
“Oh, ohh,” Jungwon gasps, clutching at his own thighs still. His hole flutters around the tip of Heeseung's cock, and Heeseung has to grit his teeth and resist the urge to slide all the way in.
Because fuck, Jungwon is tight, even tighter than he remembers. The stretch of his body making room for Heeseung's cock is obsene, and Heeseung has to remind himself to be gentle.
The reminders go flying out of his head when Jungwon shoves himself down, gets another inch of Heeseung cock inside of him. “Hyung,” he whines, voice pitched up and plaintive. “You said you would help me take it, so help me.” He's got the wet eyes, wobbly lip jutted out in a pout, the whole nine yards directed at Heeseung.
Heeseung feels bowled over at the sight.
His perfect, greedy boy. Heeseung would give him the whole world if he could.
“Hyung will help you,” Heeseung says, rocks in just the tiniest bit further. “Just be patient, baby.”
He takes his time, savors the drag of his cock opening Jungwon up inside for the first time in his life. He takes his time, even though Jungwon is squirming and whining for more, even though Jungwon's hands have long moved up to Heeseung's back, clawing desperately with blunt nails that leave a dull ache in Heeseung's skin.
He's finally worked up to a gentle rocking rhythm when Jungwon really turns on the waterworks.
Sometimes Heeseung doesn't think Jungwon's even aware that he's crying, that it's some sort of instinct to get what he wants from Heeseung, overwhelmed and demanding and petulant. Usually, Heeseung is only all too happy to please. Some days though, it just makes Heeseung's blood run hotter, clouds his vision and makes him want to tease even more tears out of Jungwon's pretty eyes.
Today, with this Jungwon laid out under him, squirming and begging for Heeseung's cock like he'll die if he doesn't get it?
Jungwon doesn't stand a chance.
Jungwon's tears are flowing freely now as he starts accusing Heeseung, “Hyung, harder, you promised, fuck me harder, you said –”
His words cut off with a punched out moan, eyes rolling into the back of his head when Heeseung angles his hips and grinds into his prostate.
“Spoiled little thing, thinking you can always get what you want,” Heeseung says fondly, grinds forward again just to feel the way Jungwon spasms around him. “Did you forget, Jungwon-ah? I’ve known you for eight years, I've learned everything about your body, how to make you feel good. I'll remind you again, sweetheart: just lay there all pretty and let hyung do the work.”
Jungwon sniffles through his tears, but he says a weak yes hyung and settles his fingers, sweet again, on Heeseung's shoulders.
For all Heeseung loves to give, he also loves to tease, and has gotten very good at it. He shows this to this Jungwon, uses his mouth to kiss him filthy, his fingers to rub at his nipples, his cock to drive him insane with an unending wave of sensation. Heeseung keeps the pace achingly slow, forces Jungwon to feel all the ways Heeseung knows how to play with his body, every single sensitive spot laid bare to Heeseung.
Jungwon moans and thrashes through it all, but he listens to Heeseung, lets himself give in to the pleasure Heeseung draws expertly from his body.
Heeseung has no idea how long he keeps it up for; the only thing he's tracking is the way Jungwon's moans get higher and higher in pitch as Heeseung relentlessly works him over. He's watches and listens and fucks Jungwon for what feels like centuries, time a useless concept in the face of Jungwon's pleasure. He sees Jungwon's thighs shake, hears his moans go molten, feels the tight clench of his body begging Heeseung for more.
Finally, the breaking point:
“Hyung, please,” Jungwon cries out, raw desperation in his voice, on his face, that perfect expression that tells Heeseung that Jungwon's just a broken open mess of sensations. “I'm close, please.”
It's only then that Heeseung finally gives Jungwon what he's been begging for, fast, rough thrusts that have him shoving up the bed, slurring out a chant of thank you thank you thank you and harder, more, please, faster. He's clenching around Heeseung uncontrollably and the squeeze is indescribable, unbelievable. Heeseung can feel the last of his self-control crumbling, uses his remaining strand of clarity to haul Jungwon up practically onto his lap to give him that perfect pressure right where he wants it on every thrust, the way Heeseung knows he loves.
And Heeseung knows he's truly fucked Jungwon stupid because he doesn't even moan when he starts to come, just seizes up when his cock starts leaking all over his belly, a broken sounding hyung lodged in his throat as a whimper.
It's enough for Heeseung to allow himself to tumble off the edge, pushing himself in deep one last time to coat Jungwon's insides with his cum, claiming him completely.
—
It takes a while for Jungwon to be fully lucid again, after that. It's not surprising that all he wants to do is cuddle, doesn't even let Heeseung up to clean them off or change the sheets, both tasks that desperately need to be done.
“We can clean up tomorrow,” Jungwon mumbles sleepily, and burrows impossibly closer into Heeseung's side.
“You're going to regret that choice later, you know,” Heeseung says, thinking back to all the times Jungwon has grumbled sourly about waking up to dried flakes of cum in him, on him, on the sheets. Still, he makes no particular effort to push Jungwon off.
“I like it though,” Jungwon says absentmindedly. “It's like you're still in me, kind of.”
“Jungwon,” Heeseung says seriously. “You can't talk like that. I'm old, my dick will literally fall off if it tries to get hard again.”
Jungwon pouts. “So that's a no on another round, then?”
Heeseung laughs disbelievingly. Jungwon has had sex once, and he's already an insatiable menace. He hopes Jungwon's Heeseung understands the work cut out for him.
Jungwon's halfhearted pushiness is undercut by his uncontrollable yawning, eyes droopy in sleep.
Before he falls asleep, Heeseung whispers, “I'm happy I was able to know this version of you, Jungwon-ah.”
Jungwon whispers back, “Me too, hyung,” and then his breathing evens out, sweet as anything.
Heeseung watches him for a long time. He thinks of sleepy towns and bottled-up dreams, how maybe it's just home and a different dream instead. He thinks of Jungwon being stuck, but maybe it's Heeseung that was stuck all along. He thinks of parallel worlds and how people find each other in different ways, but how Jungwon moves him forward all the same, two rivers flowing in the same direction.
Heeseung sleeps.
—
In the morning, his Jungwon comes back, all broad shoulders and sharp jaw, soft cheeks and a divot in his smile. He’s awake before Heeseung is, looking at him with fondness in his eyes.
“I met a baby version of you,” Jungwon says. “He taught me how to do something called a Tiktok challenge. It was kind of fun.”
Heeseung laughs sleepily. Of course that’s the first thing his Jungwon would say to him. “Welcome back, babe,” he says. I missed you, he thinks.
“I missed you too,” Jungwon says, filling in the unspoken gaps for him, and then he's kissing Heeseung, soft and sweet.
It doesn't stay that way for long though; Jungwon's body is warm against Heeseung's, and before long, his clever tongue is peeking out to trace the seam of Heeseung's lips.
“Wanna tell me why I woke up laying in a wet spot this morning, hyung?” Jungwon murmurs. It sounds like he already knows why, and he doesn't sound mad about it, just smug.
“I had you last night,” Heeseung breathes as Jungwon works on sucking bruising kisses down his jaw. Heeseung missed Jungwon in this way, too. “You were so young and shy, so eager. You know I can't resist you.” They slot back together easily, like pieces from the same puzzle.
Jungwon laughs, then grinds his body against Heeseung's, greedy and shameless. “I remember, you couldn't keep your hands off me back then. Not like you're any better now.”
“I'm a lucky man. I got to have your first time twice.” Heeseung puts his hands on Jungwon's hips and guides him so they're rutting against each other, lazy and unhurried.
“I used to be jealous, that you were my first and I wasn't yours, did you know? But guess what, hyung.” Jungwon takes one of Heeseung's hands and brings it towards the crease of his ass. Heeseung takes the initiative to skim his fingers over the rim of Jungwon's entrance; it's slick and relaxed, and Jungwon's smirking at him in a way that makes Heeseung's blood run hot. “I got to be your first time, too.”
Heeseung groans helplessly. Jungwon's going to be the death of him one of these days. “Tell me,” Heeseung says anyways. “Was I good for you?”
“So good, hyung,” Jungwon purrs. Heeseung's working a finger in already, a little dry but it's fine; his Jungwon likes it like that anyways. “You were so devoted to me, wanted to make sure I felt good.”
“I always want to make you feel good,” Heeseung says, already a little desperate, a little insane with it. He's suddenly filled with an urgent desire to prove himself. “Please, let me make you feel good.” He rolls them over so he can grab the lube still under Jungwon's pillow, blankets Jungwon's body with his own.
Jungwon settles him with a palm cupped lovingly on his cheek. “You always do,” he says, gaze steady and hot and full of love, and Heeseung feels his manic energy ebb away, as quickly as it came on.
(That doesn't mean that Heeseung isn't going to bring Jungwon to absolute ruin. He's going to remind Jungwon that only Heeseung, only his Heeseung, can give him exactly what he needs. Love and pleasure and devotion, all wrapped into one.)
Heeseung fingers Jungwon to his first orgasm, fingers tucked against his prostate and the tip of his cock in Heeseung's suckling mouth until Jungwon is crying out and spilling across his tongue. Once Jungwon is loose and relaxed, he feeds his cock into Jungwon's warm, inviting body, inch by inch, painstakingly slow like he can commit every second to memory. When he slides all the way in, the tops of his thighs pressed against the meat of Jungwon's ass, it feels like he's coming home, like there's nowhere else he could possibly be. Jungwon is batting away overwhelmed tears from his lashes, fingers clutched in the sheets and breathing ragged breaths as he comes again, just from Heeseung's cock filling him up.
“You're perfect,” Heeseung murmurs reverently as Jungwon quivers through the aftershocks of his second orgasm. “Let me give you another one.”
“Please,” Jungwon cries out, and Heeseung rolls his hips, drives in deep the way that drives Jungwon crazy, and keeps up the same, maddening pace until Jungwon comes a third and final time, a thin dribble of cum spitting up from the tip of his cock. He's crying properly now, little hiccups and gasps spilling from his perfect mouth, a slurred “No more, hyung,” when Heeseung tries to wrap a hand around his cum-wet cock.
It's all Heeseung needs to hear, gratification settling in his bones to have pleased Jungwon, given him everything he deserves and then some. He focuses on his own pleasure, only a handful of hitching thrusts into perfect, tight, heat, before he finally lets the simmering feeling in his belly spill over, washing him clean from his head to the tips of his toes.
When he moves to pull out, Jungwon slings a leg around his hip in a weak, loose-limbed grip. “Don't pull out yet,” Jungwon mumbles. “I want to feel you in me a little longer.”
“Okay,” Heeseung says agreeably, even though his cock is twitching from oversensitivity. He settles against Jungwon until he's ready.
They lapse into silence, breathing evening out until Jungwon squeezes his shoulder, tacit permission for Heeseung to pull out and clean them up. Heeseung does a half hearted job at best before squishing in close to Jungwon. The bedsheets are in ruins, anyways. They'll change them later.
Heeseung fluffs a pillow to put behind Jungwon's head; Jungwon uses his chest as a pillow instead. They wrap themselves up in each other easily.
Jungwon still has the same tells, Heeseung thinks fondly. Cuddles close as can be to Heeseung, restless to the tips of his fingers. He has something to say.
“I think…” Jungwon says, tapping meaningless patterns on Heeseung's chest. Heeseung waits patiently. “I think,” he starts again. “That the universe was trying to tell me something. Or tell us something.”
Heeseung hums, encouraging Jungwon to go on.
“Heeseung – the other Heeseung – it was so easy to tell that he was in love with me. Or in love with his Jungwon, I guess. But I could tell he was scared of it, scared of loving someone so deeply. Maybe because of their careers, I don't know. So I tried to show him how easy it was to love him, because he was still you, you know? And I'm me, so of course I was going to love him.” Jungwon looks up at him, then, uncertainly.
Heeseung smiles at him reassuringly. “You love him because he's me, and you love me. I get it, Jungwon-ah. I'm not mad.”
Jungwon seems pleased with his answer. He continues. “So then I realized, kind of. That it's you and me, no matter what. It doesn't matter where we are, or what we're doing. I'm always going to find you, and I'm always going to want you. And I think that's how you felt, too, with the other me. Or at least, that's how I hope you felt.”
“It is,” Heeseung confirms.
“I think the universe is trying to tell us, hyung,” Jungwon says, looks at Heeseung with those devastating, watery eyes. “I think the universe is telling us we're meant to be.”
Heeseung feels so full of love, his chest could collapse with it.
“I love you,” Heeseung confesses. His words rush out of him like a torrent. “And I loved the other you, too. I was scared of how much I loved you, and I think it's my fault you were sent away, so I'm sorry. But I'm not scared anymore, Jungwon-ah. I love every version of you there is. And I want your love back any way I can have it, forever.”
Jungwon smiles at him, teary and satisfied and perfect. “Me too, hyung. I love you back just as much. Forever.”
Heeseung can't help himself, then, he kisses him, full on the mouth, tries to push all the love he feels in his lungs right into Jungwon's body. “Don't you dare leave again,” he mumbles into Jungwon's mouth.
“You too, hyung,” Jungwon says. “You'd never last over there, the other Heeseung is a much better dancer than you are.”
“I could be a good dancer if I tried,” Heeseung argues.
“Hm, maybe.”
“Just you watch, we have the rest of our lives ahead of us. I'm going to blow you away with my dancing skills.”
Jungwon gives him a look that is indescribably fond. “You’re right, hyung, we have the rest of our lives together.”
His eyes suddenly go coy and playful. “So why don't you stop procrastinating and go get that,” Jungwon jerks his thumb towards the dresser, right at where that secret box is hidden. “On my finger like, yesterday?”
Heeseung's heart flip-flops in his chest. “You knew?” he croaks.
Jungwon rolls his eyes at him. “Hyung, I borrow your sleep shirts all the time, it was a terrible hiding place. Plus, who goes to Jeju in February?”
Jungwon makes a good point.
Heeseung stumbles to the wardrobe, pulls out the tiny box and takes out the ring. A thin gold band, three delicate diamonds side by side. He makes his way back to Jungwon and kneels by the bed, trembles wordlessly as he slides the band onto Jungwon's left ring finger.
“I wanted to make a big show of it in Jeju. You deserve everything in the world, Jungwon-ah,” he whispers.
Jungwon smiles at him, blotchy-cheeked and beautiful. “Tell you what,” he says, strokes his hand through Heeseung's hair. “You can take me to Jeju for our honeymoon. How about September?”
Heeseung takes Jungwon's hand, kisses it over the ring. “It's a promise.”