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“Jakey Jakey,” Sunghoon greets him as soon as the call connects. His voice crackles on the second iteration of Jake’s name, but the force of his smile is as radiant as ever despite the video stream’s poor quality. With the spotty signal in Sunghoon’s apartment, regular phone calls are usually more reliable, but he always says that he misses Jake’s face too much not to video call.
For his own selfish purposes, Jake can’t deny him. Sunghoon has a perfect face, and Jake doesn’t get to see it nearly often enough. The daily selcas that Sunghoon sends him—some for Jake to approve before he sends them to his fans-only Discord server, some for Jake’s eyes only—aren’t enough to sustain him.
“Sunghoon-ah,” Jake calls back, mirroring Sunghoon’s musical, lilting tone. “Darling. Baby. Sweetheart. Jagiya.”
Sunghoon’s grin is palpable even with an ocean between them. “Did you miss me?”
“Of course,” Jake says, leaning closer to his laptop screen. “Always.”
Sunghoon preens. From the angle his phone is propped up at, Jake can tell that he’s stretched out across his bed, similar to Jake’s position. He’s wearing loose-fitting sweatpants and one of Jake’s t-shirts, one he must have stolen the last time he was in Korea for a competition. It’s a little tight around his shoulders, and rides up on his belly, showing off the tiniest sliver of his abs. Even that would be enough to make Jake drool if he stared for too long, and Sunghoon knows it. He’d probably worn it on purpose.
According to Jake’s math—though he’s so used to doing the calculation in his head that he barely has to think about it—it’s a little past 8 AM in Toronto. Sunghoon’s eyes are still slightly puffy from sleep. He wakes up even earlier during the rest of the week to get in a run before he’s due at the ice rink, but today is his day off, and Jake feels guilty for waking him up early. But with the thirteen-hour time difference that separates them, it’s difficult to schedule time for a proper phone call, even when their days off align.
“How was your day?” Sunghoon says. “Learn anything exciting? Have you eaten anything?”
“Not yet,” Jake says. “Nothing that exciting. I wasn’t paying attention today, anyway.”
Sunghoon grins and hugs his arms around his pillow. “Oh, yeah? Why’s that?”
He already knows the answer. “Was busy thinking about you,” Jake says, and Sunghoon bursts into laughter and rolls onto his back, still clutching his pillow.
Jake smiles sheepishly as he watches Sunghoon flop around on his bed, the tips of his ears turning red even though he’d been the one to prompt Jake’s fondness. It’s still a far cry from the beginning of their relationship, when they’d been so shy around each other that they’d both been completely tongue-tied and flustered at the change in their dynamic that it had taken some time to adapt.
They’re not always like—this. It’s the distance. It makes Jake a little desperate sometimes, but God it’s worth it to make Sunghoon smile—to take away his anxiety for even a few moments. It’s the least Jake can do for Sunghoon when Sunghoon does so much for him with the limited and valuable time he has.
“Really, I want to hear,” Sunghoon says. “Tell me. Something real.”
If Jake were more insecure, and if Sunghoon did not listen so intently, he might feel strange describing the minutiae of his daily life to Sunghoon, whose day-to-day activities are similarly tedious but amount to something extraordinary. But neither of these things are true, and Sunghoon isn’t a god, though he is adored by many. It’s just that they live different lives, and, for now, their lives are spent apart.
The plan is that Jake will join Sunghoon in Canada as soon as he graduates, but for now, their relationship exists within the limits of weekly video calls and the rare vacation when Sunghoon’s training schedule and the breaks between Jake’s semesters align. The end is within sight—Jake only has one semester left, having pushing his graduation forward by a semester—but it’s become no easier to be apart even after a year of long distance.
Every time they get to see each other, it’s as though the wound reopens. They were lucky this year; they got to celebrate their birthdays together, Jake’s belated and Sunghoon’s early, while Sunghoon was in Seoul for the Korean Ranking Championships. And Christmas is just a few weeks away, after which he’ll continue skating at his childhood rink before the National Championships.
Jake’s semester will be over by then. He’ll be able to see Sunghoon every day, even if this means hanging around at the rink all day, watching from afar, and carrying around his tissue box at Nationals. After that, Sunghoon will return to Canada ahead of the Four Continents and World Championships, and even though Jake will be on break, he’ll be too busy training to indulge in many distractions—like Jake.
Sunghoon yawns into his pillow. “No wonder you were so bored today,” he says. “Economics isn’t nearly as fun when you don’t have me waiting for you in your room after.”
Jake nearly moans at the thought. Sunghoon had split his time between his parents’ house and Jake’s apartment the last time he’d visited, and the days he’d spent with Jake were so laden with domestic bliss that the thought of coming home to Sunghoon each day is the most enticing of all to him.
It’s the little things. When memories of what it was like to be together in person every day are fading away to the reality of long distance, domesticity is what he knows both of them crave.
Jake never voices how difficult it is to be apart. He doesn’t want to make it harder for Sunghoon, who he knows struggles as much as he does with it. The most important thing will always be supporting Sunghoon’s dream and doing everything he can to make sure it comes true, even though Jake always feels like something is missing, like his heartache could rip him apart at the seams whenever he remembers what it feels like to hold Sunghoon for real—to kiss him.
“Soon, though,” Jake says, trying not to sound too hopeful. Sunghoon already knows how much power he has over Jake. Best not to give him even more fuel, or Jake would be a goner. “Right?”
“Nine days,” Sunghoon sighs. For a moment, his microphone only catches the sound of fabric rustling as he shifts his position. His dark eyes lock on to the camera. “Will you pick me up at the airport?”
Jake’s chair creaks as he leans back. “Won’t your fan club be there?” he says.
His tone is lighthearted, but it’s a serious question. For now, he’s Sunghoon’s boyfriend only behind closed doors. And Sunghoon’s most devoted fans had already uncovered Jake’s identity a long time ago with how many events he’d been seen at by Sunghoon’s side.
All they know about him is what appears in the bio of Jake’s private Instagram, and what Sunghoon has said about him in interviews—that Jake is his best friend, and that they met in uni when Sunghoon had taken a break from skating to return to Korea and reevaluate his future, which had been a short-lived period before he’d made a very triumphant and extremely successful return to the world stage—which isn’t much. But they can never be too careful.
(The unfortunate side effect of this is that there are thousands of strangers online who openly thirst over Sunghoon on a daily basis, but really—Jake gets it. Sunghoon could have had anyone in the world, and he chose Jake. He might be the luckiest man alive.)
“I don’t care,” Sunghoon says. The corner of his lips quirks up into another dazzling smile. “I want you there.”
Jake swallows unsteadily around the lump in his throat. “Your turn, then. Tell me about your birthday,” he says.
Jake heard about the actual day in sparse detail over text, but Sunghoon fills him on the rest now. He had an online exam that morning, which Jake had helped him study for and that he’d felt good about, but after his rink mates had thrown him a birthday party that even his coach had been dragged into. “We were only missing you,” Sunghoon says wistfully. “I wanted to call you, but Junhwan said you’d be sleeping.”
Their lives are both so busy that the time passes quickly. It makes missing each other easier, although Jake misses Sunghoon most on their most hectic days, when they have little time to catch up with each other except in the early mornings and late nights, depending on time zones. He’s used to the difference by now but it still messes with his head that his boyfriend is living a day apart from him.
“Wake me up next time,” Jake begs. “I can always go back to sleep after. I can be there.”
Sunghoon laughs. Jake imagines that, if he were sitting next to him, he would do something stupid like pinch his cheeks. “You need your beauty sleep, Mr. Engineer.”
“Says you,” Jake retorts. It’s so easy to get a rise out of Sunghoon. Or maybe he just knows which buttons to press—though in this case, it’s probably the opposite.
“A little distance is healthy,” Sunghoon says. “It’ll make the anticipation better for when you do get to have me.”
“Don’t think that’s possible,” Jake says, yawning. He pillows his chin on his folded arms and listens dutifully as Sunghoon talks through his anxiety about a new axel entry he’d been trying out during practice.
This is it. Their weekly routine, which they’ve perfected over the past year. If Jake closes his eyes, it sounds like Sunghoon is right next to him. If he focuses on Sunghoon’s face, it’s like Sunghoon is right there next to him—like they’re lying in bed together talking about their days like an old marred couple.
Sunghoon has trailed off. Jake doesn’t remember what he was talking about. He was definitely listening. It’s impossible to think when Sunghoon is looking at him like that.
God, Jake wishes he could touch him. “Hey,” he says, and this one word sounds more raw and intimate than he ever could have intended it to. Maybe he’s been a little desperate, a little on-edge lately. Who could blame him?
Sunghoon blinks, pretty and sleep-mussed. “…Hey.”
Jake’s breath catches in his throat. This is as close as he’ll ever get to saying it. “I really miss you. Like, a lot.”
“Like, how much?” Sunghoon parrots.
He’s teasing, but his eyes are half-lidded and he’s looking at Jake in a way that can’t be interpreted as anything but seductive. Jake promptly ceases to function.
“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he admits. “Really. It’s an addiction.”
“The usual, then,” Sunghoon says smugly.
“No, a little more than usual,” Jake says unthinkingly. If Sunghoon had said it, it would have sounded more smooth, but Jake just sounds like he wants Sunghoon very badly.
Sunghoon shifts to a more comfortable position, his face lighting up with intrigue. “Ooh, tell me more?” he says, and like he’s genuinely curious, like Jake is a problem he’s trying to solve.
He’s so focused, so intent, he’s making Jake a little squirmy—and a little turned on, if he’s being honest. Sunghoon’s one-track mindedness is sexy when it’s pointed at Jake, and he knows it, too, like to give Jake all the attention he wants so that Jake spoils him right back.
Jake is tongue-tied. He keeps looking at Sunghoon on his laptop screen, his dark eyes and the perfect slope of his nose, the elegant sweep of his bangs, and wishes the distance away.
“Jakey,” Sunghoon prompts him. “When do you think of me?”
“In bed, mostly,” Jake says, very honestly.
He can feel how red his cheeks are. He didn’t mean it like that, necessarily. It’s just difficult not to think of Sunghoon when he’s alone at night and wishing he wasn’t. And it’s when their time difference lines up the best, either in the morning or at night.
Sunghoon doesn’t look surprised, only extremely satisfied. It was probably the answer he expected, and the one Jake couldn’t help giving him. “What kinds of things do you think about in bed?” he says, and Jake can’t stifle the shiver that rakes through him at the sound of Sunghoon’s deep, sultry tone.
The direction that this is going in is obvious. Jake could slow it down if he wanted to, or laugh it off, because Sunghoon is testing the waters, and if Jake were to dive in, he would hold his hand and dive in with him.
“Think about…” Jake swallows, his throat dry. He suddenly feels hyperaware of himself and his body, and the way Sunghoon is looking at him. He flips onto his belly, allowing his hips to sink into the mattress, testing out the warmth that has begun to pool in his gut. “You holding me.”
“You fit in my arms perfectly,” Sunghoon says. “Make yourself small for me.”
Jake squirms. Somehow, it doesn’t sound condescending when he says it like that. Probably because it’s true. “Sure,” he says, his throat dry, and Sunghoon laughs.
“What else,” he says. “How would I hold you? Touch you?”
Jake has pictured it a dozen times. Maybe hundreds. A stray thought here or there, a fantasy played out to completion on a night Sunghoon can’t call. Sometimes Sunghoon sends him tempting messages through the day and plan along with him. He’s thought about it plenty of times before, knows exactly what he likes.
But he can’t say it. It’s too much, too fast. He opens his mouth and he can’t even look at Sunghoon. He’s starting to sweat from nervous excitement, like it’s the first time they’ve ever done this. It’s not, but it’s only been a few times.
He looks back up to the camera, to Sunghoon, and Sunghoon grins nervously. He’s playing a part to make Jake feel good, but they’re just the same.
“You’d tease me,” Jake says. He closes his eyes and lets the images that are so familiar to him play in his mind. “Wouldn’t touch me right away.”
“That’s right.”
“Unless I begged.”
“You wouldn’t, at first. Until I kissed you… here.”
Jake opens his eyes. Sunghoon trails his fingers along his jaw, along his neck, lingering over his pulse point.
Jake stifles a whimper in his pillow and rolls his hips against the bed. Sunghoon drags his hand down his chest, then slips under the hem of his shirt. His eyelashes flutter.
“Take it off,” Jake says roughly.
“You first. Your pants.”
Jake’s hand flies to his waistband, then hesitates, his heart pounding.
“Please, Jakey,” Sunghoon says. He rucks his shirt up his chest, exposing an endless expanse of pale skin. “How would I touch you? Would I make you feel good?”
“Yeah,” Jake says. He cups himself over his pants, his words trailing off into a whine. “Always do.”
“Would you show me? If I were there right now, would you?”
“You are here,” Jake says. “With me.”
“Show me, then,” Sunghoon demands, and tugs his shirt over his head.
Jake shoves his laptop closer to the edge of his bed. It’s a little awkward, like the time he’d tried to take tasteful nudes to send to Sunghoon and they’d turned out shockingly pornographic instead. It wasn’t on purpose, and he’s pretty sure Sunghoon spent more time laughing at them than jacking off, but it was worth it for the pictures he received in return.
If Jake weren’t so turned on, the similarity of the situation would probably take him out of it, but he’s so horny he couldn’t care less.
He just—he wants Sunghoon. Gracelessly, he shoves his pants down and kicks them away, sucking in a breath as he wraps his hand around himself.
“Not so fast,” Sunghoon instructs. “Is that how I touch you?”
It isn’t. One would think, given how little time they have to do this in person, that they would be used to quickies. But Sunghoon is a snob about sex. He likes it slow, dirty but not messy. He was like this even when they lived on the same college campus, and especially during their first few times together, when Jake had a propensity for coming too soon out of sheer eagerness.
“Sunghoon,” Jake whines. “But I…”
“Do it the way I would,” Sunghoon says. “Slowly. Or would you rather wait until I’m finished?”
It’s very nearly sadistic, and exactly what Jake had asked for. He gaze drops to Sunghoon’s lap, where he’s taken his cock out of his pants and is stroking it slowly, squeezing at the base and then pressing his thumb to the slit. Jake takes a deep breath, reminds himself not to come too fast, and follows along.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon breathes. “That’s it, baby. You’re so easy.”
Jake’s cock throbs. His whole body throbs, and he thinks if Sunghoon were here to touch him himself, he would probably burst into flames.
“You’re so hot,” Jake stutters. “Fifteen million degrees Celsius. No, hotter.”
“What?”
“The Sun,” Jake slurs.
Sunghoon’s mouth curls in amusement, an expression that only lasts an instant until he spits in his hand and thrusts his cock into his hand faster.
Just like that, he’s already starting to come apart. “Is that how you’d fuck me,” Jake says, “if you were here?”
Sunghoon swears under his breath. Jake can’t tear his eyes away from him, watching his jaw go slack with pleasure, his eyes bright, listening to the slick sound of his hand and the whimpers that slip unconsciously from his mouth. Nothing gets him off faster than it—just looking at him, Jake’s pretty boyfriend, the hottest person he’s ever seen, all for Jake.
“Yeah,” Sunghoon says. “Harder, and you’d take it. All of me.”
Both of them want it too badly for Sunghoon’s shyness to kick in, and Jake’s moan of approval only encourages him further.
“So good. Worth the wait,” Sunghoon pants. “Been so long you wouldn’t last, but you’d let me fuck you twice as hard next time.”
Jake is so close he can’t even think. His hand stutters and his whole body cries out for the last bit he needs to tip over the edge. But there’s something missing—one more thing—
“Come for me?” Sunghoon whimpers, and Jake sobs, his body going taut, and he registers nothing except Sunghoon’s choked-off moan, the wave of pleasure that crashes through him and the wetness on his hand.
He blinks tears out of his eyes, a pleasant numbness overcoming him. “Well,” Sunghoon says, breathing heavily, his face red, a streak of cum shining on his belly. “That was an unexpected start to my day.”
Jake closes his legs self-consciously. “A good one?” he says automatically. He’s a little delirious. Sunghoon is so pretty.
Sunghoon considers him for a moment. “I want to start every day like that when I’m with you again,” he says, leaning close to the camera. “Just me and you in bed, and nothing else will matter.”
Jake’s cock twitches with interest. He groans and hides his face behind his hands, not needing to look at Sunghoon to know what his response will be.
“I hope you mean that,” Jake says fervently. “Once you’re mine again, I’m not letting you go again.”
“I’ve always been yours,” Sunghoon says, and Jake’s chest tightens with affection.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Jake promises him, and stands on wobbly legs to wipe his hands and cock clean with tissues and then walk to the bathroom, still shaky, to clean up.
When he returns, he finds Sunghoon crunching on a protein bar as he gets dressed for his morning workout session. Stifling a yawn, he peels off his shirt and crawls back into bed, looking at Sunghoon sideways with his head on his pillow.
“You’re tired,” Sunghoon says, amused, watching him from the corner of his eye. “I’ll let you sleep.”
“No, wanna talk more,” Jake says—or, tries to say. His words are interrupted by another yawn.
“I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep,” Sunghoon promises. He smiles warmly at the camera, making Jake’s heart flutter.
The sounds of him getting ready for his day is the accompaniment to Jake settling down for bed. It’s not really that late yet, but Sunghoon was right—he is usually sleepy after sex, and even though they aren’t together in person, he feels deeply content.
He watches as Sunghoon slings his bag over his shoulder and grabs his keys. Then he sits back down on the edge of his bed, hand lingering on his keyboard. Jake sits up, swallowing around the lump in his throat that rises at the thought of saying goodbye.
“Jake,” Sunghoon says quietly. “You know I couldn’t do this without you.”
It isn’t what Jake had expected him to say, but now that he has, it feels right. “You could,” Jake says. Like this, honesty comes easily to him. “You’re the bravest person I know.”
The truth is that Sunghoon is not only Jake’s best friend, but his partner. Their lives may be very different, but no one else quite gets Jake like Sunghoon does. No one else understands what it’s like to leave your home country in pursuit of something better—to bond over English lessons taught over Zoom and the pain of losing your voice in an unfamiliar culture. No one understands the ambition that would eat them alive if they didn’t pursue it, leaving no path but the thorniest roads.
When people walk into a room, they notice him. It’s not his talent or his looks—it’s that he radiates goodness with every step. The kind of person you want to get to know—the kind of guy you want to keep around. And out of everyone who had ever turned their head when they’d walked into a room, he’d chosen Jake.
Sunghoon presses his lips together and shakes his head. “I don’t want to do it without you. You’re what makes me happiest.”
Jake’s breath hitches. He knows that Sunghoon is being entirely sincere. He knows that this is, for Sunghoon, the truth. He wouldn’t say it if he didn’t mean it.
“I love you, Jakey,” Sunghoon says, smiling. “Tell me when you wake up?”
“Of course,” Jake says. His eyes fall shut. Everything will be true in the morning, too, and then he’ll be another day closer to seeing Sunghoon. “Love you.”
He drifts off to sleep to the sound of Sunghoon humming softly, with the promise that it won’t be long before they’re skin-to-skin.