Archive of Our Own ^beta

I want something that lasts forever

So kiss me on this cold December night

They call it the season of giving

I’m here, yours for the taking

Cold December Night — Michael Bublé

JOSHUA

sorry!! how many times do i have to say i’m sorry!!!

Jeonghan growls, something he’s not really proud of, especially being at the airport already in fucking Switzerland. He gets a few weird stares but it’s fine. It can’t be worse than this. 

JEONGHAN

how could you have possibly fucked up so BAD 

JOSHUA

YOU TOLD ME 6PM

YOU SAID 6PM  LIKE FOUR TIMES

YOU LOOKED AT MY ALARM AND SAID OH NICE!! 6PM!!

THIS IS NOT MY FAULT 

if anything YOURE the one that fucked up!

Maybe Joshua is right, but that’s not something Jeonghan is willing to admit now or in the near future. Not even the distant future. This is what he gets for trying to be a structured adult and plan a Christmas vacation for him and his friend and— fuck. 

This isn’t solving any of his problems. 

JOSHUA

on the bright side YOU still get to do all the fun still

i’m stuck in seoul trying to figure out what to do with all this time off

JEONGHAN

aw u poor thing.

i’m in a foreign fucking country

ALONE

JOSHUA

have fun i’m blocking ur number

Jeonghan sends two texts that don’t go through. That fucker. 

He’s quickly reminded by a family of six jostling him that unfortunately, the world is still turning and that he still has the cabin rented out for the next few weeks. Maybe this is something good. Maybe this is happening for a reason, like a whole self discovery thing that’s gonna change him for the better.

Hell, maybe he’ll even have a scientific breakthrough or something.

Jeonghan snorts out loud. Yeah, no. Definitely not. 

Either way, the vacation isn’t going anywhere. He’s here, standing in this airport with a shuttle waiting outside to take him to the small, almost isolated cabin in the middle of the woods surrounded by snow and trees and everything that makes Christmas exciting like in those western films he used to watch so much as a kid. So, he grabs his stuff from the baggage claim area, tucks his nose into the thick scarf around his neck, and looks for the shuttle.

The radio is playing Christmas songs, mostly instrumentals, the notes fluttering through the air as Jeonghan looks out the window, admiring the buildings with their snow covered roofs, the way everything begins to dwindle down and erupt with trees instead. Almost no other vehicles are around them after twenty minutes and even less houses and shops are visible with every passing minute and—

Jeonghan swallows nervously as the shuttle jostles, going off road and onto a makeshift path covered with snow and tire marks. The driver says something in English with a laugh and Jeonghan laughs back stiffly, straightening up to try and memorize his surroundings just in case because, ah. 

Ha. This is really isolated. Which is what he wanted when planning this—he and Joshua had been complaining about the city life for months before this was even an idea, desperate to break out of the routines they had built up ever since entering adulthood. He’ll be thirty next year, they both will, so this trip was supposed to be about really enjoying life outside of the rush and technology and…

Maybe Jeonghan shouldn’t have chosen an area this cut off from the outside world.

The shuttle parks and Jeonghan blinks, snapping his head to look around and out of the windows, finding the cabin that looks exactly like the pictures he had seen online. That’s good, at least. He should stop being so negative and scared—everything has been fine so far. What’s the worst that can happen without Joshua? No English translator? Jeonghan can handle himself just fine, fuck Joshua for missing his non-refundable flight even if it was sort of Jeonghan’s fault. Small, irrelevant details. There’s no point in dwelling on the past, especially not right now. 

The trees are tall, looming over the cabin with snow decorating its branches and evergreen leaves. The cabin is made of dark wood, small yet comforting with a simple wooden door as an entrance with white, frosted glass and a Christmas wreath hanging in the middle of the window. There’s an area for chopping wood as well as a porch that almost wraps around a majority of the cabin. It doesn’t seem like the scam Joshua had sworn that it was and a swell of pride flutters in Jeonghan’s chest because, yeah, that’s right. He found a nice cabin for cheap and he didn’t get fucked over. As far as he’s concerned, things are only looking up from here.

Before he can try and butcher his way through asking the driver if there’s any way to contact him for a ride, the man is already closing the door to the driver’s seat and driving away, Winter Wonderland blasting from the vehicle and drowning out as it gets farther away.

Jeonghan blinks, exhaling heavily and watching as the vapor leaves his mouth, the coldness starting to seep in through the lack of layers he is suddenly aware of. He hurries to pull his luggage through the snow, getting to the door and searching under the doormat for a key only to find nothing. He checks the email twice, thrice, absolutely certain that the instructions are correct. 

Out of desperation, he calls Joshua, trying the doorknob only to find it unlocked, swinging open with a creak the moment the call drops. 

No service.

Great. Fucking fantastic. Why would he have service when he specifically choke this location for its guaranteed unplugged experience? At the very least, the acres of snowy nature promised are, indeed, just outside the doorstep of  the cabin. So, he hasn’t really shot himself in the foot yet. Small wins, small wins. 

The smell of vanilla and pine is strong as he shoulders his way inside, tracking snow in the small entrance. He kicks his shoes off and tries not to pay mind to the puddle of melted snow that is already sitting near the door, a warmth already starting to lick as his skin the longer he stands inside. He huffs as he pockets his phone and pulls his luggage further into the cabin and into where the living room is. The sectional is a dark green, facing a fireplace and a coffee table that makes Jeonghan do a double take because… Huh.

The candle sitting on the light wood coffee is sitting there with melted wax. 

There’s also a sweater draped over the back of the sofa which is odd. 

Something close to dread and terror settles in Jeonghan’s chest as he drops his bags in the living room, rushing into the kitchen to grab a knife from the block they’re impaled through. He’s careful as he navigates the rest of the cabin, socked feet quiet against the floor to not give himself away if there’s someone waiting for him. 

Someone waiting to kill him—

He shakes himself out of his thoughts, taking a deep breath as he enters the only bedroom. The bed is unmade. The bathroom door in the hallway is slightly ajar, like something—someone—is waiting for him to turn his back, to make a foolish move because it’s not like there’s anyone around that could help him. If he screams, it would be lost in the spaces between all the trees around, muffled in the snow as his body is dragged and buried beneath the blanket of white.

His heart is hammering in his chest as he creeps out of the hallway and back into the living room, hand trembling around the knife as he tries to regulate his breathing.

The front door opens suddenly.

Someone emerges from the whiteness outside, dressed in an all black snowsuit with a black balaclava covering the majority of their face and—

Jeonghan screams. 

The intruder screams too, stumbling back and falling onto their ass, snow boots throwing snow up into the air like a storm barreling through the cabin. 

Jeonghan is shaking like a leaf in the bitter wind, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try and put up a fight at least. He holds the knife out in front of him, even with all this distance still between them. “Who are you?!”

“My wallet is in the room!” the intruder yells, pointing toward the single room in the back. “Please—I don’t have a lot but—but you can take that! And—and my snowboard! It was expensive!”

Jeonghan pauses because. What?  

His arm drops, the knife in his grasp at his side now as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing. “What? Why the fuck would I want your stuff?”

The guy’s hand trembles as he lowers his arm. His eyes are brown, wide as he speaks through his covered mouth. “You… Aren’t you robbing me?”

“No!” Jeonghan answers quickly. “Aren’t you breaking in?”

“No,” the guy says, shaking his head. His dark and round eyes are almost comical against the rest of his hidden features. “What are you doing in here?”

“This… I rented this cabin,” Jeonghan explains, suddenly reminded that he’s holding a fucking knife, rushing to put down on the wooden island in the kitchen before turning back to the more important matter at hand now. “I should be asking you what you’re doing in here.”

The guy blinks, finally getting up and pretty  much waddling due to all the layers he’s bundled up in. “I rented this cabin,” he says. “Until the second of January.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan blinks back. “I’m here until the third.”

He can see the way the guy’s eyebrows furrow beneath the mask, his hand searching one of the velcro strapped pockets at his side until he’s holding his phone, a muffled hmph leaving him before he’s pulling his mask off and holding the finger of his glove between his teeth to pull it off his hand.

Jeonghan gets a sort of tunnel vision after that, zeroing in on this guy’s features because… 

Oh, okay.

Alright.

He’s hot. Of course he’s fucking hot.

His black hair is tousled from the careless removal of the balaclava mask. His eyebrows are dark and thick, furrowed as his eyes dance across the screen of his phone, full lips a rosy color and downturned in concentration. The slope of his nose curves gently and subtly, bringing together all the features that Jeonghan is openly appreciating. “There’s nothing in the email about this being a shared cabin,” the guy mumbles with a pout. “Huh. I guess they fucked up and double booked it or something.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan manages to say through a dry throat after a beat. “That’s—well. Uh… What should we do?”

The guy finally looks at Jeonghan properly and his mouth twitches around unsaid words, cheeks pink probably from the coldness. “I—um… Well, we can… We can always share it? I mean, we both paid for this, it wouldn’t be fair to leave one of us out to fend for ourselves or scramble to find somewhere else to stay.” When Jeonghan doesn’t say anything, too focused on the fact that oh God is this actually happening, the guy backtracks. “Unless you don’t want to, which is okay! I get it, uh, I can try contacting the booking site but I don’t have service—”

“No!” Jeonghan says quickly, startling the poor guy at the suddenness before reeling back, trying not to seem as giddy as he feels. “I mean—I’m okay with sharing the space if you are. As long as you’re not crazy, which wouldn’t be great since I don’t have service either.”

The guy raises an eyebrow, looking Jeonghan up and down in a way that shouldn’t be as sexy as it is. “Shouldn’t I be saying that to you? You were pointing a knife at me.”

“Yeah, because I thought you were breaking in!” Jeonghan defends with a hysterical huff. This isn’t the impression he wants to be making, so he sucks in a breath to keep himself steady and straightens his shoulders, letting his lips tilt up in a smile that he knows is pretty, and steps forward with an extended hand. “Let’s try again, yeah? Hi, my name is Jeonghan.”

The guy seems somewhat charmed, lips tight with a smile that reveals a dimple. “Choi Seungcheol. Sorry for scaring you.”

“Me? Scared?” Jeonghan says with a theatrical laugh, trying to ignore the way Seungcheol’s hand seems to engulf his, not really in size but in mass. “I was just using my impressive survival skills to try and scare you off.”

Seungcheol laughs, head tilted back toward the ceiling, a joyous sound that makes Jeonghan grin. He comes back with that same dimple indented into his skin, bottom lip pulled between his teeth as a giggle leaves him. “Yeah, your scream really petrified me.”

“Aye,” Jeonghan whines lowly, earning another laugh. “I’m trying to make a good impression and you’re not letting me.”

“Sorry,” Seungcheol says even though it doesn’t sound like he’s really sorry. He steps forward, leaning closer to Jeonghan and whispering loudly, “If it helps, I’m already impressed.” Jeonghan blinks, mouth falling open as a pathetic stutter catches his tongue. Before he can say anything, Seungcheol is walking past him, taking off his other glove and starting to rip apart the velcro of his snowsuit. “Sorry, my clothes underneath are all damp—do you mind if I shower real quick?”

“No, go ahead,” Jeonghan manages to say, ignoring the neon red sign in his head that says he’s gonna be naked in the same vicinity as you . “I, uh, need to unpack anyway—”

“You can have the bed tonight,” Seungcheol says, hovering near the bathroom door, smoothing his hair away from his face. “I’ll take the sofa. We can switch off tomorrow so that it’s fair—is that okay?”

All Jeonghan can muster up as a response is a thumbs up that Seungcheol returns before disappearing into the bathroom.

Jeonghan stumbles toward the sofa, plopping onto the green velvet and staring up at the wooden beams of the ceilings,

This, he thinks, should be very interesting.

☃︎

It takes Seungcheol a little less than an hour to get out of the shower, which is a good thing for Jeonghan, a great thing, even. He has time to get his shit together because if he’s gonna be stuck in a cabin in the middle of Switzerland with a hot stranger, then he’s gotta at least try. 

Try what? He’s still figuring that out. But at the very least he’s gonna fucking try. 

Jeonghan is already somewhat unpacked (he put his luggage in a corner of the living room to get it out of the way) and he’s planted himself on the sofa once again, fidgeting with a book he found on the coffee table that seems like it’s more for decoration than anything. 

“You speak German?”

Jeonghan jumps, not having expected Seungcheol to be sitting right beside him. “Uh, sometimes,” he responds dumbly before shutting the book with a heavy sound. “That was a lie. I don’t know why I said that. No, I don’t speak German. Or read it. I have no grasp on the language, if I’m being honest.”

Seungcheol laughs with an eyebrow raised at the book. “I’m assuming that was just for aesthetics, then.”

“Honestly, yeah. I don’t really know what else to do other than… be nosy, I guess.”

Seungcheol hums, eyes flickering across Jeonghan’s flare for a fleeting moment before he’s asking, “What were your plans for the day? Or, well, for your time here?”

Jeonghan blinks, mind blank like white snow. Joshua was the one in charge of the itinerary, having told Jeonghan to not even bother because he already went through the effort of planning everything else, which, yeah it’s a good point. Look how that worked out. 

Joshua had compiled a list of things they could do during their time here with a lot of sightseeing and tourist-like things. But now…

Jeonghan is forcefully hit with the realization that he, by himself, has no fucking plans. 

“Oh, uh,” he answers after a stretched silence. Seungcheol is patiently waiting for him to answer. “I didn’t really think that far ahead, to be honest.”

For some reason, this makes Seungcheol beam. “Hey! I did the same thing—I sort of planned this trip spontaneously, which is a first for me.”

“You like order?”

“More like I can’t function without it,” Seungcheol chuckles, the dimple in his cheek prominent making Jeonghan sigh dreamily. He’s only human. 

“Huh,” Jeonghan huffs to cover up his tracks. He leans back against the sofa and looks over at Seungcheol with a raised eyebrow. “I’m assuming that means you have no plans for the rest of the day either.”

“I was gonna take a nap after snowboarding,” Seungcheol admits, a hand rubbing the back of his neck like he’s embarrassed at the confession. “But if you want company…?”

“No! No, it’s okay,” Jeonghan says quickly. Maybe it’s better if he gets his head on straight and can look at Seungcheol without his eyes lingering like a creep. No ring, though. Actually, he’s not gonna think about that. “Go nap. I’m gonna… explore.”

Seungcheol tilts his head cutely. Goddamn it. “Explore?”

Jeonghan nods, happy with this decision and the bit of distance it will put between them. “Explore.”

☃︎

It doesn’t take long for Seungcheol to retreat back into the room, for the sound of his gentle snores to bleed through the partially cracked door. Jeonghan dresses in layers to shield him from the bitter air outside and gives himself three pep talks before trekking out in his snow boots. Endless white surrounds the cabin, snow lightly falling and landing on his clothes and the top of his beanie that’s covering his ears. 

As nervous as he had been about the solitude, it’s a beautiful and serene sight. The snow covered ground is velvety, almost sparkling in the sun that peeks through the clouds every so often. The trees are a deep green with snow decorating their leaves like something out of a painting. Jeonghan can’t help but let himself be pulled into the beauty, letting his feet lead him between the trees and toward the endless scenery. If he decides to head back, he can always turn around, retrace his steps and find the cabin considering it sticks out like a sore thumb in all of this vastness. 

On his walk, he lets himself think and think and think. He wonders how Joshua is doing, if he’s somewhat grateful that he doesn’t have to deal with Jeonghan’s bullshit for three weeks. If he was here, he would have lost his mind at sharing a cabin with a stranger, no matter how hot or charming they seem. Maybe that’s why he’s made it this far in life without any mishaps. Jeonghan should definitely learn from him. Not this time, of course. He’s gonna let himself enjoy said hot stranger’s company until he starts seeing signs of a murderer and then, maybe, he’ll run away or something. 

Once his legs start to  ache and he’s pretty sure he can’t feel the tip of his nose, Jeonghan decides that it’s probably best to head back considering everything is beginning to be drenched in an orangey glow that can only indicate sunset.

He turns on his heel and starts to head back, eyes casted toward the plush snow that—

Huh.

Theoretically, his footsteps should still be visible. He turns his head back and forth, all around him, searching for any trances he might have left behind that indicate what path he was taking only a few short minutes ago. Much to his horror, everything around him stares back like it has been untouched, like there are no signs of him venturing out this far even though the proof is standing right there, lost in the woods.

Fuck.

He’s lost in the fucking woods. 

“Great,” Jeonghan says out loud with a laugh on the edge of hysteria. “Fucking fantastic.”

Part of him wishes he paid more attention to those stupid (or, maybe they were actually useful) survival shows Joshua would be watching every time they hang out, but the reality is that he has no survival skills in this moment and all he can do is pick a direction and walk and truly just hope for the best. So, he turns, lets the wind guide him or something like that, and starts to walk. Worse case scenario, he dies, which could also be the best case scenario if he thinks about it long enough.

The sun sets at an impressive speed (when did the sun ever set this fast?) and the more seconds pass the more Jeonghan makes peace with his body being frozen in the snow, left to be found by some poor couple trying to enjoy their vacation, changing the trajectory of their lives and probably becoming the focal point of all their future therapy sessions—

“Jeonghan!”

Ah, Jeonghan thinks somberly, now sitting in the snow, ass getting numb from the cold. That must be God. Maybe he is real.

“Jeonghan! I don’t know your last name, but, uh—Jeonghan!”

Jeonghan furrows his eyebrows, standing up and craning his neck to look in every direction. Finally, he kicks into gear, following the voice calling his name and yelling back: “I’m here!”

In the distance, he sees a bundled up silhouette making its way toward him. The closer it gets, the more he can make out Seungcheol’s features and the fear he had been pushing back starts to come forward quickly and he practically sprints into Seungcheol’s space, only stopped from dramatically embracing him by Seungcheol’s hands on his shoulders to keep him at a distance.

Though, it doesn’t seem like it’s with malice, instead, Seungcheol’s eyes are frantically looking over him, like he’s trying to make sure Jeonghan is still in one piece. “Where were you?” he asks once he’s determined that Jeonghan isn’t hurt, just stupid.

A lie sits on Jeonghan’s tongue before he swallows it back. Good impression, and all that. “Honestly?” Jeonghan looks around, pressing his lips together with a heavy shrug. “No clue.”

Seungcheol blinks, thick eyebrows twitching and his mouth opening and closing like isn’t sure what to say. “You… Were you lost?”

“No!” Jeonghan says quickly. “Just… misguided?”

“And who misguided you?”

A beat of silence. “The wind.”

Seungcheol lets out a sudden laugh that warms Jeonghan’s chest like a furnace. Seungcheol’s teeth catch his bottom lip for a moment before he’s shaking his head, snowflakes stark against the black, knitted fabric of his beanie. His eyelashes are long, catching snowflakes too as his eyes dance across Jeonghan’s features. “You’re ridiculous, you know?”

Jeonghan tilts his head cutely, giving Seungcheol a smile that he knows makes him look pretty. “In a good way, I hope?”

Seungcheol smiles back at him, giving a small jerk with his head. “Let’s go back to the cabin, yeah? I’m sure you’re freezing your ass off.”

Jeonghan’s chattering teeth serve as a loud enough answer.

☃︎

When they get back to the cabin, Seungcheol is quick to break off from Jeonghan to start the fire. Not much is said as Jeonghan goes to grab dry clothes from his suitcase, only turning to look over his shoulder when he feels Seungcheol lingering in the living room.

“I need to go chop some more wood,” he tells Jeonghan once he realizes he has his attention. “You don’t have to help—stay inside and warm up and I’ll make sure the fire stays on.”

Jeonghan doesn’t tell him that he wasn’t really planning on helping in the first place, too cold and exhausted to even think about going outside and doing labor. That and he doesn’t want to be caught openly ogling this guy more than he already has in their short time knowing each other. So, he gives Seungcheol a thumbs up that seems to be enough of an answer for him to pull his beanie further down over his thick eyebrows and disappear out the front door and into the winter night.

With that, Jeonghan takes a hot bath, almost falling asleep in the water before waking up at the thought of dying and being found pruny and naked. After, he slips into his white and cotton pajama set, drying his hair quickly so that it doesn’t drip onto the fabric.

When he gets out of the bathroom Seungcheol is still outside and the fire is beginning to die out. Every blink seems to lull Jeonghan further into his exhaustion, so he makes a note to thank Seungcheol in the morning for all of this and heads into the bedroom to dream of sugarplums.

☃︎

A blinding light stretches in through the large window taking up most of the wall beside the bed. Jeonghan wakes up with a heavy exhale, stretching his limbs and basking in the warmth hoarded in the sheets. He sits up and rubs the tiredness from his eyes, noting that he never properly closed the door to the room last night. 

Once he’s brushed his teeth and tamed his hair the best that he can, he steps out and is surprised to find Seungcheol already awake. 

The fire crackles in the silence as Seungcheol sits at the small, circular dining table beside the kitchen. His hair is messy, black strands sticking up at the back of his head while the entire left side is flat like he slept on it for too long. A dark green hoodie is adorning his broad shoulders and his torso. Grey sweatpants sit on his lower half, the thickness in his thighs prominent beneath the table, making Jeonghan divert his eyes quickly. Black, thick framed glasses are perched on his slightly curved nose as he reads what looks like a comic book sitting on top of the table, the corner held down by his pointer and middle finger. There’s a mug beside him, steam billowing from the top as he picks it up without looking, pink lips puckered as he blows on the drink to cool it down before he takes a noisy sip.

Jeonghan stays frozen in place, unsure how to break the silence or announce his presence. Luckily, he doesn’t have to do much. Seungcheol blinks, turning his head and smiling when his eyes meet Jeonghan.

“Hey, good morning. Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan nods after a pause, clearing his throat when it comes out gritty. “I didn’t realize how tired I was until my body hit the bed.”

“That’s how I was when I got here,” Seungcheol says with a chuckle, sitting up straight and waving Jeonghan over. “Come sit, I can make you some hot chocolate if you want.”

“I’m okay,” Jeonghan says, but takes up his offer to sit in the seat across from him. He sits on his hands to bring some warmth to them, looking at everything around them except for Seungcheol, a little too nervous to meet the gaze he knows has settled on him. “Do you normally wake up early?”

“It depends,” Seungcheol says, closing the comic book to give Jeonghan his undivided attention. “Usually I sleep in if I can, but I wanted to have the fire up and running before you woke up, so I set an alarm and just hoped that you weren’t an early riser.” He smiles, dimple and all. “Looks like I was right.”

“Hey,” Jeonghan says with a whine. “I can be an early riser if I really tried.”

Seungcheol raises an amused eyebrow at him. “Have you ever tried?”

“I’ve never had a reason to.”

“Ah,” Seungcheol nods with a hum, taking another sip of his hot chocolate. “Maybe you’ll find one here.”

Jeonghan’s eyes take in Seungcheol, every feature of his face, the subtle swell beneath his eyes, the tousled strands of hair on his head, the hint of a scar on his middle knuckle on his hand. “Yeah, maybe.”

The corner of Seungcheol’s mouth tilts up into a small smile before he’s ducking his head down, picking at the creased spine of the comic book.

Eventually, Jeonghan is the one to speak over the silence. 

“Yoon,” he says and Seungcheol makes a curious noise, head tilting to the side like a confused puppy. “Yoon Jeonghan. That’s my full name—you said you didn’t know it yesterday when you were looking for me, so, ah… Yeah. It’s Yoon Jeonghan.”

“Yoon Jeonghan,” Seungcheol repeats, the name soft and syrupy on his tongue, begging to stick to Jeonghan’s skin and mind and being. “Well, would you like to join me on my walk, Yoon Jeonghan?”

A grin creeps onto Jeonghan’s face despite himself. He’s only human. “I would love to, Choi Seungcheol.”

☃︎

Following a stranger through a trail in the woods probably isn’t the best choice Jeonghan has made in his life, but there’s no warning signs flashing in his head, not with Seungcheol at least. At this point, Jeonghan is almost positive that Seungcheol isn’t going to murder him, which is great. 

A new problem quickly manifests itself, though.

“Look,” Seungcheol says, pure joy etched on his face as he finishes the face of the small and lopsided snowman with a stick as the nose. He’s kneeling on the floor, snow on his thighs and gloves as he gestures toward his creation he is very proud of. “What should we name him?”

That new problem being that if Seungcheol keeps this shit (being Jeonghan’s dream man) up, then he’s gonna do something stupid like fall in love with him and picture them getting a mortgage together.

God. Joshua is gonna have a field day with this.

“It looks like a potato,” Jeonghan says after a second, tilting his head to get a better view. 

“My dog’s name is Kkuma,” Seungcheol says helpfully with a small pout. 

“Cute,” Jeonghan nods. “You wanna name this thing Kkuma?”

“No,” Seungcheol huffs, standing up and brushing the snow off his black attire. “That’s offensive to my baby girl—she’s cuter than this lump of snow.”

“You were proud of that lump of snow two seconds ago,” Jeonghan points out, trying not to let his imagination wander. If Seungcheol talks about his dog like this, Jeonghan can only imagine how he’d talk about his significant other.

“Hey, I’m still proud of it!” Seungcheol pouts, eyes wide and dark, the snow surrounding them glistening in his eyes. 

Jeonghan bites back his smile. “Let’s name it… Lump.”

“Lump?” Seungcheol repeats, mumbling it under his breath a few times before nodding with content. “Lump. I like Lump.”

With that, Seungcheol abandons Lump just as quickly as he had built the poor lopsided snowman, forcing Jeonghan to follow him on the trail. Their shoes crunch in the snow and Jeonghan quickens his pace to walk alongside Seungcheol, tilting his head back to enjoy the trees looming around them.

“Pretty,” Jeonghan finds himself saying as the clouds cover what can be seen of the sun. 

Seungcheol looks over at him and follows his gaze. “Yeah, right? You don’t get a view like this in Seoul.”

“You live in Seoul?” Jeonghan asks, trying to suppress the giddy feeling starting to rise in his chest. 

Seungcheol nods. “Moved there for college and ended up staying after I got a job offer. You?”

“Same,” Jeonghan says. “My best friend sort of forced me to stay, but I don’t regret it. There’s a lot more there than back home.”

“I get that,” Seungcheol says as their shoulders knock together. “You know, this is sort of like fate.”

“Fate?” Jeonghan repeats back with a crack in his voice. He might pass out—no, he can’t do that. Seungcheol might do something sexy like save his life or give him mouth to mouth or—

Maybe he can afford to pass out, actually.

“What are the odds that the cabin gets double booked and both of us happen to speak the same language and be from the same place?” Seungcheol explains too calmly for Jeonghan’s liking. “It’s like we were meant to meet, you know?”

“Maybe,” Jeonghan manages to say, very cool, calm, and collected. “Are you trying to tell me you’re glad you met me, Choi Seungcheol?”

“Yeah, of course!” Seungcheol says without missing a beat. And then, like an icicle to Jeonghan’s heart, “I could always use more friends.”

Jeonghan looks around, disappointed when he finds no cliff to free fall off of. “Me too,” he says, choking back the heavy sigh threatening to come out. When their shoulders bump again, Jeonghan walks a little faster, pretending to be distracted by a particularly low hanging branch.

☃︎

It’s not that Jeonghan is disappointed in Seungcheol’s friend comment, per se. 

All it does is put everything into a very realistic perspective that Jeonghan had been unwilling to see through the infatuation that seemed to curse him the moment he properly laid eyes on Seungcheol. At the end of the day, Jeonghan knows nothing about this guy and can fantasize about holding hands and maybe even some explicit things all he wants, but nothing will change the reality that is in front of him. Seungcheol is not interested, Seungcheol might not even be into men. Seungcheol is being nice because he is a nice person,  not because he wants to fuck— kiss —Jeonghan, too. 

So, Jeonghan forms a plan, does what he is known to do best back at home and avoids Seungcheol the best that he can given their proximity and the circumstances. It isn’t all that hard to do, especially when Seungcheol is so kind and respectful of his space. When Jeonghan wakes up, whether it be on the sofa or on the bed, he goes straight into the bathroom to brush his teeth and will return the good morning Seungcheol extends, and then will retreat back into the room or living room and pretend to be busy with a German book or with a game on his phone. Seungcheol will then invite Jeonghan to join him on a walk or to go snowboarding or some other activity that he plucks from his mind that day.

Jeonghan will decline with a different excuse. Too tired. Too cold. Too comfortable in front of the fire. Seungcheol won’t push it and will be gone by the time he regrets it.

This happens for three days before there’s a shift in their (Jeonghan’s) routine. 

Jeonghan is dressed in a knitted grey sweater and thick sweatpants, rushing into the living room to enjoy the warmth of the fireplace, pausing in front of the sofa when he notices the lack of flames and the wood burnt with glowing red and orange embers pulsing in the cracks of the wood.

Suddenly, Seungcheol is coming into the area, shoving his hair into a black beanie and nodding at Jeonghan. “Hey, can you help me chop some wood?”

Jeonghan blinks, looking around to be sure that Seungcheol is talking to him. “I—I don’t know how to chop wood.”

“Well,” Seungcheol says, clapping a hand on Jeonghan’s shoulder with a smile. “It’s never too late to learn.”

☃︎

The axe is heavy in Jeonghan’s freezing hands. Seungcheol had said that he prefers to use the axe without gloves to have a better grip, and Jeonghan, trusting him with his life at this point, had taken off his own gloves that were keeping all his digits snug and warm.

He flexes his hands around the wooden handle, taking a deep breath and swinging the axe down toward where a log is sitting upright on top of a stump. He misses, the axe getting stuck beside the lonesome log. His cheeks burn with embarrassment as he looks over his shoulder and finds Seungcheol hiding a smile in his gloved hand. 

“Yah!” Jeonghan scolds, pointing the axe at him. “I told you I didn’t know how! You said you’d teach me!”

“Alright, alright!” Seungcheol laughs, high pitched in a way that almost makes Jeonghan break. His hands are up in defense, eyeing the axe. “Put that down, will you? What’s up with you and sharp things?”

Jeonghan slowly brings the axe down, fingers numb from where they’re wrapped around the handle. “Show me, then.”

Seungcheol looks him up and down and then nods. “Alright. Turn around.”

Jeonghan’s eyes widen, nearly bulging out of his head as a noise punches out of his gut. “Buh?”

“Face the stump,” Seungcheol explains nonchalantly, tipping his chin in its direction. “So I can show you how to chop wood.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan nods quickly, complying. “Like this?”

Suddenly, Seungcheol’s voice is in his ear, warm breath hitting the skin there, too. His chest is pressed to the entirety of Jeonghan’s back, arms coming around Jeonghan, hands wrapping around Jeonghan’s and guiding him carefully. Jeonghan’s breath stutters in his lungs, chest feeling like it’s constricting as Seungcheol’s fingers tighten around his own, adjusting his hold on the axe. 

“You’ve gotta make sure your grip is right—one hand should always be above the other like this.”

“Yeah, of course,” Jeonghan manages to say.

Seungcheol beckons their arms up, loosening his hold to let Jeonghan have more control. The tips of his fingers trail against Jeonghan’s wrists, brushing up to his elbows. “Bend your knees a little—yeah, like that. Lean forward a little when you swing, okay? When you swing, keep your arms straight. Got it?”

“I think so,” Jeonghan says even though he’s almost gone pliant, leaning back against Seungcheol and stumbling the slightest bit when he steps back to give Jeonghan space to put all the tips given to good use.

He balances himself quickly, taking a deep breath, making sure his stance is right before swinging the axe back above his head, puffing his cheeks as he focuses on where he wants to split it and drives the axe down.

The wood splits, not down the middle but close enough, and Jeonghan lets out a surprised noise when he realizes. “Whoa—I did it! Seungcheol, look!”

Seungcheol beams, going around to pick up the two pieces and showing Jeonghan. “Look at that! See, I told you you could do it!”

“Yeah, well,” Jeonghan says with a pretty smile, trying his luck. “It helps that I had a great teacher.”

Seungcheol’s eyes widen the slightest bit before he’s laughing softly, ducking his head down bashfully before placing another log on the stump. 

Even if the rose colored blush on his cheeks is because of the cold, Jeonghan lets himself think otherwise.

☃︎

From there, it’s harder to avoid Seungcheol.

Not that Jeonghan tries hard to after that, but he’s hit with the sudden realization that even though he’s only known Seungcheol for a little over a week, he genuinely enjoys his company.  He’s funny when he needs to be, falls into banter with Jeonghan seamlessly. He can take the digs and also give them all while pouting and complaining in a way that is far from annoying and more endearing than anything. He’s kind, kinder than most people Jeonghan has known and met, and he’s genuine. He asks questions when he needs to, listens to the tangents Jeonghan finds himself going on, replies with stories of his own that keep Jeonghan interested. 

It’s easy to let himself melt into the warmth offered by Seungcheol’s presence.

Tonight, they’re sitting at the coffee table, Seungcheol’s legs criss-crossed and Jeonghan’s legs folded beneath him. They’re across from each other with Jenga set up, wobbling every time Seungcheol’s finger pushes at a wooden block.

“Careful,” Jeonghan sings teasingly, chin resting on his hands that are placed on the coffee table, carefully watching every one of Seungcheol’s risky moves. “Careful, Cheollie, don’t shake—”

“Yah! Yoon Jeonghan!” Seungcheol whines through a laugh, straightening up and sucking in a breath before shouting in frustration, burying his head in his hands dramatically in a way that makes Jeonghan laugh until he can’t breath, falling back onto the plush carpet. “You’re driving me crazy! How am I supposed to perform under these conditions?”

When Jeonghan catches his breath, he sits up, wiping at his eyes. Seungcheol is already looking at him with a small smile, one that makes him feel warm even though he runs cold naturally. “You have to do your best, Seungcheol-ah. Or, we can make this easy and I can be the winner.”

“Not a chance,” Seungcheol mumbles, eyebrows furrowing in concentration and he ducks down, eye level with the bottom row of blocks. His tongue is between his teeth as he zeros in on a particular block that he starts to push. It falls onto the table with a sound and he lets out a noise of triumph, clapping once before grabbing it and placing it at the top. “Try beating that.”

“I don’t have to try,” Jeonghan tells him confidently even though he can see the tower wobbling without even being touched. He inhales, holds it in his throat as his cold hand comes up to pick a block, shaking as he tries to slide it out of the space and—

The tower crashes onto the coffee table in a series of noises. Jeonghan curses as Seungcheol cheers, arms in the air in delight.

“Ah, not fair!” Jeonghan complains, rubbing his hands against the fabric of his pajama pants to try and salvage some heat. “My hands are numb—I can’t feel them! That’s a disadvantage!”

Instead of playing into Jeonghan’s complaint and teasing him like Jeonghan expects him to, Seungcheol pauses, eyebrows furrowing. “Are you still cold?”

Jeonghan blinks. “Ah, a little?”

Seungcheol gets up without saying a word, going to the fireplace and adding two more logs into the pile, poking around with an iron rod and pouted lips. After a silent few minutes, he looks over at Jeonghan. “Is this better?”

“Oh,” Jeonghan says, realizing what he’s doing. “Thank you, but I—I just tend to run cold, that’s all.”

This doesn’t seem to be a good enough answer for Seungcheol whose eyebrows have yet to relax. Jeonghan almost backtracks, almost says that he’s kidding just in case Seungcheol has something against anemic people, but before he can say anything or come up with some sort of lie, Seungcheol is dropping on his knees in front of him, grabbing his hands and clasping them in his own, the warmth from his skin bleeding into Jeonghan’s. Then, he brings them up to his mouth, blowing hot air into the makeshift barrier.

Jeonghan watches in a partial trance, heart in his throat and mouth dry as he tries to come to terms with the fact that Seungcheol’s lips are practically pressed to his fucking hands.

“There,” Seungcheol says, looking up at Jeonghan with his stupidly long eyelashes, Christmas lights reflecting off his dark eyes. “Is that better?”

Jeonghan nods, words caught in his throat. “Y-yeah— yes. That’s—that’s great. Um. Warm.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flicker across his face, their closeness suddenly very, very obvious. His lips spread in a close mouthed smile (that stupid, stupid dimple) and he gives a curt nod. “Good. Just let me know if you’re cold—I tend to run hot.”

You sure do, Jeonghan thinks, quickly shoving that thought into the back of his head. “Okay, yeah. I will.”

☃︎

A new day brings a new request from Seungcheol. It’s never a question anymore ever since Seungcheol found out that if he promises to teach Jeonghan something, Jeonghan will easily agree. 

Now, though. This seems like it can only end in broken bones or death. 

“What if I break my leg?”

“You already asked me that,” Seungcheol says, strapping  one of Jeonghan’s feet into the binding. “And I’m not gonna let you get hurt. We’re going down small hills—”

“All it takes is one bump,” Jeonghan mumbles, apprehensively looking at the hill Seungcheol is talking about, which, yeah. It’s small, smaller than most mounds of snow, but Jeonghan’s knees are sort of shaking and he isn’t sure if he’s brave enough for this, even with the promise of Seungcheol’s hands on his body. 

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says, hands finding Jeonghan’s shoulders and forcing him to look into his eyes. He dips his head down to properly make eye contact, genuine and careful. “I promise to keep you safe. If you fall, I’ll be right here to catch you.”

Jeonghan’s eyes flicker between Seungcheol’s, stomach fluttering at the attention. He blinks prettily, pulling his lip in between his teeth just for added flare. “Promise?”

“I promised three times already,” Seungcheol huffs, looking away before sighing. “Yes, Jeonghan, I promise. Good?”

“Great,” Jeonghan beams. 

From there, Seungcheol is set on making sure that Jeonghan has all the knowledge he needs to make his small journey down the hill. “It’s all in the stance—flex your knees and ankles, bend your knees so that they’re right over your toes—yeah, perfect. Okay, your shoulders and hips need to be aligned with the board and your upper body needs to be relaxed.”

Jeonghan does his best to follow these verbal instructions but finds his limbs unwilling to work in tandem with his brain. “Uh,” he says dumbly. “Hold on—”

“You’re tense,” Seungcheol points out, grabbing both of Jeonghan’s wrists in his hands. “Loosen up, relax. Remember, I’ve got you.”

With that, Seungcheol is pulling him along, slowly, guiding him through the motions, voice soft and only for Jeonghan’s ears. He’s a great teacher and eventually, Jeonghan is going down the mound on shaking knees, but not falling.

He cheers, arms thrown up as he looks over his shoulder and finds Seungcheol running toward him, crashing into his body with a dull sound of their snow attire colliding. It’s only then that Jeonghan loses his balance, arms  flailing as he starts to lean back, only stopped by Seungcheol grabbing his waist to keep him upright. 

“You okay?” Seungcheol asks, nose and cheeks pinks, face only a breath away from Jeonghan’s.

Jeonghan’s nod is delayed as he forces himself to look away from Seungcheol’s mouth. “Yeah, I’m—I’m okay.” A silence settles and Seungcheol’s hands tighten. “I—uh—let’s do it again.”

And just like that, Seungcheol’s hands are gone.

Fortunately, Jeonghan picks up on the hobby easier than he thought he would once he gains some confidence. After a few more guided attempts, everything begins to click in his mind and body, his balance better, upper body relaxes, legs and ankles flexed. Soon, he’s able to upgrade to an even bigger hill further away from the cabin, pride swelling in his chest as Seungcheol sings his praises, audibly impressed by Jeonghan’s quick improvements.

Albeit his natural athleticism, Jeonghan’s stamina is still on the low end, forcing him to take a break and lay in the snow, staring up at the cloudy sky as he catches his breath. It doesn’t take long for a shadow to be casted on him as Seungcheol stands over him, his face coming into view with an amused smile.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted,” Jeonghan says with a loud sigh, earning a laugh that sparks a trill in his spine. “Shocking, I know, but the universe had to balance me out with shit stamina or else I would have become an Olympian.”

“Well, that just wouldn’t be fair,” Sungcheol says, a joking lilt to his tone as he plops beside Jeonghan, falling into the snow with a small grunt. “I am genuinely impressed by how fast you picked up on this, though.”

“Played sports my whole life,” Jeonghan explains. With each inhale, he can feel their shoulders touching. “Half the time I wasn’t even, like, interested in whatever I was playing, but I was good and that’s all that really mattered.”

“Damn,” Seungcheol chuckles, turning his head to look over at Jeonghan. “I would have hated you.”

“Oh, how nice.”
“No, like—ah. I would have been so jealous of you, that’s what I meant.”

Jeonghan hums, looking back up at the thick clouds. He wonders what it would have been like if they met all those years ago, if they stumbled upon one another in high school. Would they still be friends now? Would it be like this, too? Jeonghan imagining what it would be like to steal a kiss, a touch? Wondering if Seungcheol can feel the constant pull, like gravity is shifting around them? 

“Sorry,” Seungcheol says suddenly, cutting through Jeonghan’s thoughts. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Jeonghan tells him easily because, really, he isn’t upset. Just yearning mentally, coming up with all sorts of what if s like that will be useful to him. Still, he hates the look on Seungcheol’s face, like a kicked puppy who’s done nothing wrong. So, he shifts the conversation. “Did you choose Switzerland so you could make use of your snowboarding skills?”

“Ah, yes and no,” Seungcheol says after a moment. “I was being honest about the whole spontaneity thing—this really was a last minute trip but… Ha… It’s kind of a funny story.”

“Make me laugh, then.”

“I’ll do my best,” Seungcheol says before sighing, gaze up toward the clouds as Jeonghan appreciates the outline of his profile, of the way his lashes are decorated with snowflakes. “So, me and my ex-girlfriend broke up like… Six? Seven? Yeah, seven months ago and she called me one night and told me that she needs me to go to her parent’s with her for Christmas because she still hadn’t told them that we broke up. I lied and said that I’d be out of the country because, honestly, it sounded like a shitshow waiting to happen. And  then I felt really bad about lying and booked a flight here and was like fuck it. I might as well get my money’s worth.”

Jeonghan does not laugh. 

There’s nothing funny about this handsome, sweet, caring, considerate man being unattainable, being dangled in front of Jeonghan like a cruel prank. This is the equivalent to opening a stocking and expecting sweets only to be met with coal and reindeer shit. 

“Oh,” Jeonghan says eventually, trying to hide the disappointment in his tone even though all he wants to do is scream into the snow beneath them. “Yeah, that sounds like a nightmare.”

Seungcheol pouts, looking over at Jeonghan and shifting to nudge their shoulders together. “You didn’t laugh.”

“Ha ha,” Jeonghan punctuates, earning a laugh from Seungcheol instead. It’s worth something. “Sorry, I just feel bad.”

“That’s fair,” Seungcheol says. “She’s not crazy though, I promise. Her parents are just really strict and I think they were sort of rooting for us to get married even though we were only dating for a few months.”

“Bummer,” Jeonghan says stiffly, trying to figure out how to navigate this conversation in a different direction that doesn’t remind him of his loss. “Why snowboarding?”

“It’s fun,” Seungcheol answers easily. “I learned from my ex-boyfriend in college and he was a terrible teacher. He was pissed when he realized that I was already better than him after a couple of tries.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan says, perking up. Boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend. Oh, this is. This is great. “I’m assuming that’s why he’s an ex?”

“That among other things,” Seungcheol tells him, looking over, eyes dancing across Jeonghan’s features. “What about you? Any interesting ex stories?”

Jeonghan holds back his smile because… Is Seungcheol trying to figure him out right now? He’ll take the bait. He’ll gladly take the bait, swallow it whole and wrap the line around his body in desperate hopes of getting caught. “Nope, all of my boyfriends have been uninteresting. Ex boyfriends. I don’t have a boyfriend right now.”

Please, please fix that.

“Ah,” Seungcheol grins, looking back up just as snow begins to fall, melting on his pink cheeks. “Good to know.”

☃︎

Nightfall comes and the temperature drops a significant amount, even with the fire blazing. Seungcheol is doing a puzzle, sitting at the coffee table as Jeonghan stirs a pot of hot chocolate that he offered to make. His hands shake as he pours the chocolatey and steaming drink into two mugs, careful as he takes them into the living room and sets them on the wreath shaped coasters already waiting.

Seungcheol looks up at him with wide eyes before his features melt into a smile. “Thanks, Hannie.”

Jeonghan tilts his head, his fringe falling over his forehead as he regards Seungcheol. “Hannie?”

A noisy sip accompanies the Christmas music playing from a stereo beside the fireplace as Seungcheol glances at him over the rim of the mug covering his mouth and nose. He sets the cup down with a gentle sound and shrugs as he sorts the edge pieces of the puzzle. “You called me Cheollie the other night, I think it’s only fair to have a nickname for you too.”

Jeonghan’s teeth catch his bottom lip as he hides his smile behind his own mug. “Cute. I like Hannie.”

“Good, that’s good,” Seungcheol says, eyes yet to meet Jeonghan’s again.

Jeonghan decides to tone it down. Just because Seungcheol likes men doesn’t mean he likes Jeonghan—he doesn’t want to think about that any more than he already has, no he focuses on trying to warm his hands and cheeks and nose, scooting closer to the fire and blowing hot air into his hands and holding his knees to his chest in hopes to conserve some of the heat.

It doesn’t take long for Seungcheol to notice, abandoning hispuzzle to occupy the space on the floor beside Jeonghan. Their thighs are pressed together when he settles, leaning into Jeonghan and looking at him curiously.

“Cold?”

“Always,” Jeonghan answers with a small laugh. “It’s okay, honestly. I’ve always had terrible circulation.”

Seungcheol reaches over, holding both of Jeonghan’s hands in his. “You’re shivering.”

“Well, I did say I was cold.”

A silence settles for a moment as Seungcheol’s teeth worry at his rosy lips. “Sleep in the room tonight.”

“No, no,” Jeonghan says quickly, shaking his head. “It’s your turn, I don’t want to take it—”

“Sleep with me,” Seungcheol says and before Jeonghan can have a fucking aneurysm, “I run really hot, I’m sure it’d be better than sleeping out here hoping that the fire doesn’t go out. And neither of us have to give up the bed.”

Jeonghan should say no. He should create space, some boundary, between them before he falls deeper into the hole that he’s dug for himself, before this miniscule crush spirals out of control more than it already has. But Seungcheol is genuine, eyes searching Jeonghan’s for an answer, waiting so patiently for an answer because no matter what the answer is, he knows Seungcheol won’t push it, won’t make him feel uncomfortable. 

It’s easy to say yes. 

He doesn’t think about the consequences until they’re getting ready for bed. There’s a tension in the air that feels like it only gets heavier by the second. Luckily, it’s broken when Jeonghan gets into the bed, scooting back toward the wall until his head is crashing into the wall, making Seungcheol cackle until he can’t breathe. 

The tender spot on his head is worth the way Seungcheol falls back into the mattress, wiping tears from his eyes until he’s reaching out to carefully touch Jeonghan’s head.

“Sorry—are you alright?”

“Nothing’s hurt except my ego,” Jeonghan jokes, pulling the comforter up to his chest and adjusting himself until he’s staring through the darkness and up at the ceiling. Beside him, Seungcheol shifts, his warmth already radiating beneath the sheets. It’s probably annoying in the summer, he thinks vaguely. He wouldn't mind it, he gets cold in the summer, too.

“Well, we can’t have that,” Seungcheol says and Jeonghan laughs.

“No? Well, how should we fix it, then?”

Seungcheol’s hand finds his wrist. “First, you shouldn’t be so close to the wall. What if you hit your head again?”

“I—you—I don’t want to hog the bed—”

“Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says. “You can get closer. I can’t keep you warm when you’re all the way over there.”

This might be the night that Jeonghan dies. And if he does, what a way to go out, in the arms of a hot stranger that isn’t really a stranger anymore. Jeonghan scoots closer, his hip and shoulder bumping Seungcheol’s. “Is this okay?”

“You tell me,” Seungcheol whispers. “Are you warm yet?”

Heat sparks in Jeonghan’s stomach and chest, like a flame engulfing him internally. “Yeah—yeah, I am.”

The tips of Seungcheol’s finger brush against his knuckles, his voice low and syrupy with exhaustion. “Good,” he mumbles sleepily, words dragged out as he falls asleep. “That’s… That’s good…”

It doesn’t take long for Jeonghan to succumb to the exhaustion, pinky hooking onto Seungcheol’s as his eyes flutter shut.

☃︎

It was only a matter of time before Jeonghan’s bad luck caught up with him.

He wakes up to warm hands jostling his body, his dream slowly fading away as he opens his heavy eyes only to find Seungcheol kneeling beside the bed, eyebrows knitted in concern. His hand moves in front of Jeonghan’s face, fingers brushing his hair out of his face.

“Hey—hey, are you awake?”

“Mm,” Jeonghan mumbles, tilting his face into Seungcheol’s touch. It’s colder in the room than it had been last night and—ah, there’s sweat on his face. Weird.

“You’re burning up, Hannie,” Seungcheol tells him, which is odd because he still feels cold. “I think you’re sick, baby.”

“I’m not,” Jeonghan tries only to be cut off by his own groan that comes involuntarily, body aching as he shifts. Ah, maybe he is sick. “I don’t wanna be sick—”

“I know, I’m sorry,” Seungcheol says carefully, hand running through Jeonghan’s hair in a way that is very comforting and makes his eyes shut sleepily. “I’m gonna see if I can find a store around here, yeah?”

“Don’t die, please,” Jeonghan begs, clutching onto the collar of Seungcheol’s sweater. “Don’t want you to die—you’re so hot.”

“Oh! Ah, thank you, Jeonghan—”

“If you die, take me with you.”

“Okay, I will,” Seungcheol assures him, gently prying Jeonghan’s hand off his sweater and rubbing his thumb over Jeonghan’s warm knuckles. “I’ll be back.”

Jeonghan isn’t too sure if he replies, already falling back asleep.

☃︎

For the next two days, Jeonghan is in and out of lucidness with medicine and soup running through his veins like his life depends on it. He sleeps, wakes up to Seungcheol sitting beside him on the bed or changing the damp rag on his forehead. He mumbles some incoherent things that make Seungcheol either laugh or blush which he’s somewhat proud of. 

On Christmas Eve night, he starts to come to, pulling himself out of the bed to shower. Seungcheol is sitting in the living room with a comic book in his lap, legs folded beneath him on the sofa, completely oblivious to Jeonghan’s presence. 

Jeonghan lingers, unsure of what to say, suddenly mortified that this poor guy had to deal with him at his worst. Eventually, he settles for a loud and sudden, “Thank you.”

Seungcheol startles, looking up with wide eyes. “Oh, you’re up.”

“It’s seven in the evening.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been sleeping pretty much all day,” Seungcheol tells him, closing the comic book and getting up to walk into Jeonghan’s space, his hands cupping Jeonghan’s face, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he takes in Jeonghan’s features. “You seem like you’re good now.”

“I feel great,” Jeonghan manages to choke out when Seungcheol finally drops his hands. “And, um… I’m really sorry about that. You didn’t have to take care of me like that, but I… I really appreciate it.”

“I wanted to. Take care of you, I mean,” Seungcheol says, cheeks flushed as he steps back. “Did you want something to actually eat? I went to the store a few times—did you know there’s a snowmobile chained up in the back? And it works!”

“Oh, that’s good to know,” Jeonghan says. “But, yeah, I could eat.”

Seungcheol wastes no time going into the kitchen. Jeonghan gives him space, lets himself sit in the living room and thumb through the pages of the abandoned comic book. It’s a superhero one, obviously translated from English with very graphic fight scenes and language.

“I watched the show first,” Seungcheol tells him suddenly. “It was really cool but the newest season doesn’t come out for another two years, so I bought all the comic books so I didn’t have to wait.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan drags out. “So you’re impatient?”

“Only with things I want,” Seungcheol says nonchalantly. “You can borrow the comics if you want.”

“Oh, it’s okay—”

“I don’t mind, I probably won't read them again,” Seungcheol tells him with a shrug. “And if you don’t like them, you can always give them back. No harm no foul.”

All Jeonghan can do is nod, too focused on the possibility of them still knowing each other in the future, of Seungcheol thinking that far ahead, of trusting that Jeonghan will be there to return these. Maybe he’s thinking about it too much, but he keeps the thought close to his chest.

“Okay,” he agrees after a moment. “I’ll let you know if I like them.”

Seungcheol’s smile is like a promise.

☃︎

Christmas morning comes with snow fluttering down, as Jeonghan opens his eyes, met with the stunning view of the evergreen trees carrying the snowflakes. Beside him, Seungcheol shifts with a heavy breath, his knee brushing the back of Jeonghan’s thigh as he wakes up properly, holding his upper body up on his elbow as he looks over Jeonghan and out the window.

“Whoa,” he says. “How pretty.”

“It’s a true Christmas morning,” Jeonghan jokes.

“Oh, it is, isn’t it?” Seungcheol says before nudging his chin into Jeonghan’s shoulder for a fleeting moment, the touch gone before Jeonghan can bask in it. “Merry Christmas, Yoon Jeonghan. Thank you for spending it with me in this overbooked cabin.”

Jeonghan laughs, falling back in the bed and looking up at Seungcheol. “Merry Christmas, Choi Seungcheol. Thanks for not kicking me out.”

Seungcheol’s eyes flicker across Jeonghan’s features, his bed head making his heavy gaze almost amusing. Almost. “I wouldn’t have dreamed of it.” Before Jeonghan can reply, Seungcheol is rolling over, standing with a stretch and looking over his shoulder in time for Jeonghan to look away from the tattoo peaking out of the collar of his shirt, right below his neck and between his shoulders. “We should go into town. I think you’d like it.”

“Okay,” Jeonghan answers easily. He’ll let himself have this as a Christmas gift.

☃︎

The snowmobile is more convenient than Jeonghan had expected it to be. He slots himself into the space behind Seungcheol, not needing to be told twice as he wraps his hands around Seungcheol’s waist to hold on. It’s a steady ride as they follow a makeshift trail over small hills and turns between trees until finally they’re approaching a town with older buildings, Christmas lights and decorations adorning the buildings, hung between roofs and stores like something straight out of a movie set.

He almost stumbles as he gets off the snowmobile, steadied by Seungcheol’s hand on his lower back as he looks at the sights around them, entranced by the festive feel. There’s Christmas music playing loudly, but not overwhelmingly, adding to the atmosphere. For once, Jeonghan feels like he understands the excitement that people talk about when anticipating the holiday.

“It’s amazing, isn’t it?” Seungcheol says from beside him.

“It looks like a set,” Jeonghan tells him with a small laugh. “I think I’m starting to understand the beauty of Christmas.”

Seungcheol scrunches his nose in amusement. “Who are you, the Grinch?”

Jeonghan smacks his arm playfully and chooses to start heading into the town, leaving Seungcheol to cackle out something similar to an apology. The comment is quickly forgotten as Seungcheol changes their route, pulling Jeonghan by the wrist toward a stall with an elderly man selling hot chocolate.

“When I came to get you medicine, I tried some of this,” Seungcheol tells him when they’re sitting down at a round table beneath hanging Christmas lights and beside one of many decorated Christmas trees surrounding them. “And it was so great, I wanted to bring you one but I don’t think you would have enjoyed it as much considering you could barely keep your eyes open for more than two minutes.”

Jeonghan takes a sip and is pleasantly surprised at the rich flavor and texture. It’s definitely better than the packaged powder they’ve been using—more authentic, made with crafted care. “Oh, shit. This is amazing.”

“See! I told you.”

“I definitely appreciate being conscious for this,” Jeonghan nods. “Genuinely, though, I can’t believe I don’t remember anything. Well, I remember you waking me up and telling me I had a fever, but that’s it.”

Seungcheol raises an eyebrow that is almost hidden beneath the brim of his beanie. “You don’t remember anything?”

Jeonghan’s lips tilt down in thought as he shakes his head. There are small moments he vaguely remembers, most of them consisting of Seungcheol taking care of him. “Not really, no.”

“You, ah… You called me hot a lot.”

Jeonghan chokes on his hot chocolate, nose burning and eyes watering as he coughs up a lung. “You—I— what? When?”

Surprisingly, Seungcheol seems more amused than anything. “More than once. Before I left to get you medicine you told me not to die because I was hot or something like that. You also said I was hot when I was changing the rag on your forehead. And when I fed you soup. And when I helped you walk to the bathroom—”

“Okay!” Jeonghan practically screams over him, earning some concerned looks from people walking past. “I get it—ah— God. I’m sorry about that.”

“Did you mean it?” Seungcheol asks so suddenly that Jeonghan almost short circuits.

“Did… Did I mean it?”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol nods simply, legs crossed as he peers into his to-go cup. “Did you mean it?”

Jeonghan’s mouth opens and closes as he tries his best to keep his head on straight. It’s probably best to just be honest. “I mean… yeah. You—you’re hot, anyone can see that.”

Seungcheol says nothing, tilting his head, eyes dragging up and down Jeonghan’s being. Before he can think about running away or kindly asking someone to kill him, Seungcheol says: “Likewise. Pretty, too.”

Jeonghan blinks. “Oh. Thanks.”

Seungcheol downs the rest of his drink, standing up to throw it away like he didn’t just call Jeonghan pretty. “Are you finished?” he asks, pointing at Jeonghan’s drink. When Jeonghan nods, he throws it away, too. “Do you wanna feed some reindeer?”

How can Jeonghan say no to that?"

☃︎

The warmth of the reindeer’s fur makes Jeonghan giggle, nose scrunched as the animal licks his palm to get what’s left of the oat and seed mixture given to them in a bucket. Jeonghan plunges his hand back into the bucket to get another handful, petting the reindeer with his free hand when it starts to nibble at the food.

Another reindeer comes into view from behind the wooden enclosure, pushing its head against the first reindeer in an attempt to steal the food from Jeonghan.

“Hey! Get your own human,” Jeonghan scolds, only to be silenced when Seungcheol nudges their shoulders together. “What? This one’s greedy!”

“ This one has been ignored by everyone here,” Seungcheol points out, putting his hand in front of Jeonghan’s to steal the reindeer’s attention. It works and Jeonghan’s original friend is back in his space, happily munching. “Sorry about him,” Seungcheol loudly whispers to the animal. “He’s a grumpy one. Some people call him the Grinch.”

“Yah,” Jeonghan laughs, kicking at Seungcheol’s ankle. “Now you’re just being annoying.”

“Maybe I like annoying you,” Seungcheol says smugly, looking over at Jeonghan with a grin. “You’re cute when you’re irritated with me.”

Jeonghan squawks, cheeks burning as Seungcheol holds back his laugh. “You’re insufferable—”

“Something tells me that you like it.”

Jeonghan shuts his mouth, turning his head to hide his blush as he reaches into the bucket to grab some more feed. Seungcheol’s hand follows, fingers brushing Jeonghan’s for a fleeting moment before the warmth disappears, leaving his hands colder than before.

☃︎

They spend a majority of the day in the town, finding small things to do whether it be idling around a gift shop or finding something to eat. When the sun sets, the lights and decorations come to life in a way that is so much different than anything Jeonghan has ever seen in his life. Snow begins to fall as the large Christmas tree in the middle is lit up, illuminating the snow around them in a magical glow. Jeonghan’s mouth falls open at the sight, only snapping close when someone jostles him and Seungcheol.

“Picture?” they ask, English broken as they hold up a polaroid camera with a beaming smile.

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Seungcheol tries only to be cut off.

“Free! Picture is free!” they’re told and ushered closer to the tree until they’re standing in front of all the lights and ornaments.

Jeonghan glances over at Seungcheol with a shrug, stepping closer so that he’s almost tucked under Seungcheol’s arm albeit their similar height. Then, like he can read Jeonghan’s mind, Seungcheol tucks his arm behind Jeonghan’s back, wrapping it around his waist to pull him flush against his side. The person taking the picture gives them a thumbs up, holding the camera carefully.

Again, Jeonghan looks at Seungcheol only to find him already staring back with a soft smile that melts into Jeonghan, too.

The flash goes off somewhere in the distance, lost in the warmth of winter.

☃︎

The ride back to the cabin is quiet, calm, and careful. Few words are exchanged between the two, the photo tucked into Jeonghan’s pocket, still unseen by the both of them. They’ll look at it back at the cabin, that’s what Seungcheol had suggested and Jeonghan had easily agreed, hesitant for whatever reason to look at the product of a moment that felt like something new.

Their boots are forgotten by the door, puddles of melted snow pooling beneath the soles as the two of them migrate into the living room, sitting in front of the fire with the soft hum of Christmas music lulling in the background, the twinkling of a piano, the swell of string instruments accompanying the crackling fire. Jeonghan sways to the melody, eyes shutting for a moment as he lets himself get lost in the entrancing melody.

Seungcheol’s hand is warm against his own, his eyes cautious as Jeonghan finds his gaze. “Can we look at the picture?”

Jeonghan nods, shifting so he can pull the picture out of his pocket. It’s face down as he hands it to Seungcheol, heart in his throat as Seungcheol gently takes it from him. He flips it around and their captured image stares back at them.

It’s…

Jeonghan swallows back the snowflakes fluttering in his stomach and threatening to spill out of his mouth.

They’re pressed against each other, side profiles illuminated by the grand tree behind them. Seungcheol’s hand is settled on Jeonghan’s waist, and Jeonghan’s is lost somewhere behind Seungcheol’s back. Their smiles are soft, warm. Eyes fondly meeting like they’ve known each other for years, like they’ve fallen in love time and time again despite only knowing each other for a couple of weeks. 

“Wow,” Seungcheol says first, breaking the thick silence. “We look good together.”

Jeonghan lets out a laugh that sounds more like a heavy exhale, but finds himself nodding anyway. “We do, yeah.”

“You know,” Seungcheol starts, voice quiet against their still surroundings, time suspended between them. “You told me something else when you were sick but… But I don’t know if you meant it.”

They’re close, so close that Jeonghan could count all of Seungcheol’s eyelashes if he really tried. “What did I say?”

“You,” Seungcheol whispers, their noses almost brushing now. “You told me to stop taking care of you because you’re already halfway in love with me.”

Jeonghan lets out a breath, something between a laugh and a sigh. “Did I?” 

“You did,” Seungcheol confirms, the corner of his mouth twitching up, the shadow of his dimple catching Jeonghan’s attention. “Is that true?”

It should feel like he’s cornered, like he’s being stripped bare and displayed like a spectacle, like he has nowhere to run. But it doesn’t feel like that, not in the slightest bit. It feels like falling into something familiar, like knowing he’s going to land safely. It feels easy. “It’s true,” he says. 

Seungcheol’s hand is cupping his face, thumb tracing over the soft skin of Jeonghan’s cheekbone. “Is this okay?”

Jeonghan answers with the tilt of his chin, closing the distance between them with a hammering in his chest. Their lips touch with hesitance before Seungcheol’s grip becomes firm, pressing into Jeonghan with more certainty. 

His warmth courses throughout Jeonghan, full lips parting and swallowing the gasp that escapes from Jeonghan’s mouth. Seungcheol kisses like he’s trying to melt Jeonghan from the inside out, gentle and with intent, handling Jeonghan with such care that it’s hard to catch his breath even when they part with a soft sound. 

Jeonghan’s eyes flutter open, met with the view of Seungcheol with his eyes still closed, eyelashes fanned against the skin beneath, casting shadows on his golden skin. 

“This is crazy,” Seungcheol whispers. 

Jeonghan snaps out of his trance, leaning back. “Sorry, I—I’m—”

“No, hey, Jeonghan,” Seungcheol says quickly, eyes snapping open as he holds Jeonghan’s hands to keep him from moving. “No, I meant to kiss you, baby. I did, I asked, didn’t I? I just meant like… This is crazy—you… I’ve never felt like this about anyone and I’m just… It’s crazy how much I want you. How much I want this. Does that make sense?”

It takes Jeonghan a moment to let things settle, to be sure that this is real and not some figment of his imagination. But he gathers himself, lets the joy in his chest be filled to the brim as he smiles. “It makes sense. I feel the same, Cheollie.”

Seungcheol smiles, falling into Jeonghan again with another kiss that rivals the heat from the fire. 

☃︎

Things fall into place in a way that makes Jeonghan wonder if this actually is a figment of his imagination. Maybe he was kidnapped by a murderer and he’s been sedated this entire time and it’s all a dream that he’ll soon wake up from—

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Jeonghan blinks, pulled out of his thoughts by Seungcheol’s voice. “Huh?”

“You look pretty deep in thought,” Seungcheol points out as he puts icing on the edges of the gingerbread house walls, making sure they stick together this time. 

“Do you think we’re making all of this up in our heads and that we were actually kidnapped and given a sedative that makes us hallucinate?”

Seungcheol doesn’t even blink. “Seems unlikely. Can you hold up the side wall for me?”

Jeonghan does as asked, fingers sticky as he holds the pieces together and Seungcheol concentrates on making sure the icing ends up where it’s supposed to go. “You never told me where you found this.”

“Back of the cupboard,” Seungcheol explains vaguely. “On a scale of one to ten, how good are your icing skills?”

“Solid two,” Jeonghan guesses. 

“I’m at a three,” Seungcheol mumbles with a pout. “Together we make a five.”

“I don’t think that’s how that works, Cheollie.”

“Well, do you have any other ideas?”

Jeonghan shrugs. He can think of a few. “You wanna make out?”

Seungcheol drops the icing, cursing as it falls on his lap and stains his sweatpants. “Goddamn it, you can’t just say that.”

“So?” Jeonghan pushes, letting go of the wall and touching Seungcheol’s cheek with his sticky fingers. “Do you want to or not?”

“You know I do,” Seungcheol whines, turning his head to catch the kiss Jeonghan goes to press on his cheek, but dodging Jeonghan’s attempt to deepen the affection. “Come on, Hannie, I really wanna finish this.”

“Fine,” Jeonghan groans, scooting his chair away from Seungcheol. It’s been a challenge keeping his hands to himself, but he can’t find it in himself to feel ashamed, not when Seungcheol reacts so well to it. “What do you need me to do?”

Seungcheol beams, content. “Help me with the roof, please.”

It takes almost an hour, but eventually they move onto the decorating portion. Jeonghan hums along to Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas as Seungcheol zeros in on carefully placing small candies on the iced roof. It’s endearing seeing him like this, so focused on perfecting every little detail on this gingerbread house like they have all the time in the world, like it won’t be in the trash can within these next few days.

“It looks pretty, Cheollie,” Jeonghan tells him because he knows that it’ll earn him a dimpled smile. “I’d live there.”

“Two bedrooms, one bathroom,” Seungcheol jokes with a proud grin. “Hand decorated with love and effort.”

“Ah,” Jeonghan nods. “Where’s my room?”

“Our room is in the back,” Seungcheol explains nonchalantly, poking his finger in the back window of the house. “There. And Kkuma sleeps in the living room even though we have a bed for her in the room—she sleeps under the Christmas tree in the winter and on the couch in the summer.”

“What, she doesn’t like us?”

“She thinks we’re annoying.”

Jeonghan lets out a fond laugh that dies down when he realizes that, ah…

Seungcheol is thinking about their future together.

What makes it so much worse is that now Jeonghan is picturing it, too. 

He can see himself waking up to Seungcheol every morning, smoothing out his bedhead and exchanging a kiss before they part ways and go to work, falling into each other when they get home and cooking dinner together and eating it in front of a TV in their shared apartment. 

It’s something Jeonghan has never thought about, but now it’s all that he wants.

“You okay?” Seungcheol asks, a hand on Jeonghan’s thigh.

For now, he lets himself enjoy the warmth while it’s still here. “Yeah,” Jeonghan nods, intertwining their fingers. “Tell me more about our house, Cheollie.”

☃︎

New Year's Eve comes quickly and suddenly.

Though, Jeonghan shouldn’t really be surprised. In a few days, it’ll be three weeks since he arrived at this cabin. In two days, Seungcheol leaves back for Seoul. He can only hope that he wants this just as much as Jeonghan does, that things won’t change once they go back home. He doesn’t mention it, though, not right now. Everything feels too fragile, like it could shatter beneath his palm if he isn’t careful. So, he’s careful, takes what Seungcheol gives him and shoves it into the depths of his chest to come back to in case each time is the last time.

Tonight, they drink wine they picked up from a small shop in town, sitting on a hill of snow and sharing a pile of blankets they dragged out of the cabin. Seungcheol’s heat is radiating into Jeonghan even through all his layers, and they look up at the stars gleaming down on them as the minutes pass, closer and closer to a new year.

Seungcheol bumps their shoulders together in the comfortable silence, getting Jeonghan’s attention easily. “Ready for the new year?”

Jeonghan chuckles, tongue bitter and red from the wine. “As ready as I can be, I guess. It’s gonna be weird going back home.”

“Yeah,” Seungcheol agrees with a sigh, leaning his head on Jeonghan’s shoulder. “Things have been a dream here.”

“You think so?”

Seungcheol nods. “If someone told me that I’d be falling for a knife-wielding intruder, I’d believe them only a little because my luck is usually shit, but if they told me that the intruder was actually everything I’ve ever wanted… I’d be skeptical.”

“I was only holding the knife because I thought I was about to be featured in my own murder documentary,” Jeonghan defends, pushing down the way his heart is threatening to spill out of his chest, stained with wine and blood. “It doesn’t help that you were wearing a fucking ski mask.”

“I took it off!”

Jeonghan remembers clearly—it hadn’t taken long for him to fall head first. “Luckily and unluckily for me,” he partially jokes. “I’m only human, Seungcheol. I almost let you kill me.”

Seungcheol laughs, turning his head to press a kiss against Jeonghan’s shoulder. “If it helps, I would have let you stab me, but I would’ve asked for a kiss first.”

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. “Yeah, right. That’s why you said that fate brought us together to be friends.”

“Well I wasn’t trying to scare you away by talking about romance and non-platonic fate and stuff after a day of knowing you!” Seungcheol defends, sitting up straight now. 

Jeonghan can’t help but admit that Seungcheol is sort of right. He tends to ruin a good thing  before it has a chance to blossom, and he doesn’t doubt that he would have run the other way if he had a feeling that Seungcheol even felt a fraction of the feelings he felt so soon. “I would have let you fuck me the first day.”

“And I would have,” Seungcheol answers without missing a beat, cheeks pink from the alcohol. “And I guarantee things would have been weird after.”

Jeonghan lets out a laugh. “Oh, absolutely.”

Seungcheol’s eyes dance across Jeonghan’s features, travelling from his eyes to his nose to his mouth and back up. “Do you regret any of this?”

Jeonghan takes in Seungcheol’s features, too. He lets himself memorize the gentle curve of his nose, the fullness of his lips, the thickness of his eyebrows and the way his eyes seem to hold stars and snowflakes in them, always glimmering no matter where they are. He answers easily. “No. Do you?”

“No,” Seungcheol answers back. “Never.”

Fireworks erupt in the distance, pulling their attention to the sky momentarily. Sparks of gold, green, and red erupt alongside all of  the stars, bathing them in a color filled glow.

Seungcheol is quick to catch Jeonghan in a kiss that leaves him breathless, cold noses bumping and mouths tasting of tart wine.

“Happy New Year,” Seungcheol says against his lips, swallowing Jeonghan’s words before they can hit the cold air.

☃︎

All good things come to an end, Jeonghan thinks he’s seen that somewhere before. 

Whether he has or not, it doesn’t really matter because it’s the first thing that comes to mind when Seungcheol’s warm hand on his bare back wakes him up from his already fitful sleep. It’s still dark out, the sun having yet to rise. But Seungcheol has a plane to catch, he has places to be and Jeonghan isn’t going to be the one to stop him because it’s not a goodbye. It better not be a goodbye.

“Already?” Jeonghan mumbles through a voice rough with sleep. 

“Yeah, baby,” Seungcheol says. 

And Jeonghan knows—they spent the entirety of the day before wrapped in each other, lost between bare skin and the sheets of this bed they’ve grown used to. They’d both mentioned Seoul, planned dates for when the weather gets warmer, talked about their job and their friends, how well they’d all get along when they meet. There are plans for a future, plans for the start of what could be forever, but fear still sparks in Jeonghan’s chest as Seungcheol sits on the edge of the bed and hugs him closely, pressing his lips to the side of Jeonghan’s face and his hair until they’re meeting in the middle.

Jeonghan clings to the warmth until Seungcheol is forced to let go. It’s no good for either of them if he misses his flight back, so with reluctance, Jeonghan lets him go and refuses to shed a tear because soon. He’ll see Seungcheol again soon.

Later that morning when Jeonghan properly wakes up, he finds a note tucked beneath a mug filled with hot chocolate that has gone cold now. There are stains of chocolate on the side, running down the mug like Seungcheol had set it down in a rush and accidentally jostled the ceramic dish as he left. When Jeonghan plucks the note from beneath it, his heart sinks further into his ribs.

The edge of the paper is soaked in hot chocolate stains, the ink from the pen bleeding into illegible smudges.

Yoon Jeonghan,

I will see you soon,  that’s a prom

Have a great rest of your time in Switze

Call me when you wake u

Much love, Choi Seungcheo

xxx - xx

The rest of the phone number is lost in the mess of ink and hot chocolate.

Jeonghan folds the note and walks to his suitcase, plucking his wallet from the unorganized clothes shoved into the small space and tucking it between the cash that he has on hand. 

Soon, he reminds himself. Somehow, someway. Soon.

☃︎

The shuttle from his first day in Switzerland miraculously shows up to the cabin two hours before his flight is set to depart. The man looks happy to see Jeonghan, asking him how he enjoyed his stay. Jeonghan smiles politely, tells him that the area is beautiful as best that he can with the few English words that he knows. Even with the language barrier, it seems like the man knows that Jeonghan is lying.

What else can he say, though? That it feels like he’s left a piece of himself somewhere in that cabin? That that piece of him is probably already in Seoul, that he’s unsure if he’ll ever get it back? There’s nothing he can say out loud that will make the heaviness in his chest lighten up. So, he stays quiet, presses his head against the cold window and watches the tree pass by, clasping his cold hands between his thighs.

☃︎

Joshua picks Jeonghan up from the airport, head craning in search for his friend in the crowd making their way toward baggage claim. Jeonghan spots him first, a small smile gracing his lips for the first time in days. Joshua runs to him and hugs him before smacking his arm forcefull .

“Yah! I was kidding when I said I was gonna block your number! Why didn’t you call me at all?”

“I had no service in the cabin,” Jeonghan explains as they part. “That’s why I texted you when I got to the airport.”

Joshua is looking at him with knitted brows, a frown on his face as he scans Jeonghan’s features for a good few seconds. “Are you okay? You seem… You seem off.”

“I’m okay,” Jeonghan says even though he can feel the heaviness in his chest starting to weigh him down. He swallows back the ache and tilts his chin toward the baggage claim area. “Let’s go, I wanna take a nap.”

Joshua presses his lips together, but follows Jeonghan anyway.

☃︎

Jeonghan gets his needed nap, waking up with a headache and a dry mouth and Joshua sitting in his apartment with a bottle of wine opened and two glasses already filled to the brim.

“Sit,” Joshua demands, pointing to the sofa and handing Jeonghan a glass. “Drink.”

Jeonghan obliges, taking big gulps of the pleasantly sweet wine and holding out his empty glass that is filled again without question. “Thanks,” he says, word muffled against the rim of the glass.

“Talk,” Joshua says this time. When Jeonghan says nothing, he kicks him, earning no reaction. “Jesus fuck, what the hell happened to you in Switzerland? Do we need to get you a therapist?”

Jeonghan swallows back a lump in his throat. “It’s… God, it’s a long story.”

“Oh, Jeonghan,” Joshua tsks sympathetically, putting his drink on the coffee table and leaning forward to hug Jeonghan the best he can given their position. “Take your time, alright? I’ll be here if you wanna talk, I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”

It takes a few minutes, but eventually Jeonghan shakes himself out of his funk, suddenly aware of how stupid this is. Then, he takes a breath and tells Joshua everything.

He tells Joshua about how he and Seungcheol met, about the snowmen Seungcheol always seemed keen on building when he got the chance, about chopping wood and snowboarding, about the comic books that are sitting in his suitcase, about the night in the town, the polaroid picture, the kiss, the shared bed, the incomplete phone number and everything and in between until it feels like his tongue might fall off.

When he’s done, Joshua is gaping, eyes wide as he sits back against the arm of the sofa. “Oh… Oh wow.”

“Yeah,” Jeonghan repeats, tipsy now. “Wow.”

“It’s… It’s serious for you, isn’t it? I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Jeonghan groans, tossing his head back dramatically. “Shua, I’m not even kidding—I—I think I’ll never move on. Genuinely. He was— God. He was perfect for me. And now I’m never gonna see him again and he’s gonna think that I never felt the same and—”

“Whoa—hey—Jeonghan!” Joshua says over him, leaning forward to clasp his hand over Jeonghan’s mouth. “Calm down, yeah? There are ways we can still find him. Have you looked online?”

Jeonghan blinks. “No, not yet.”

Joshua takes his phone out, pulling up every social media app there is to offer and downloading the ones he doesn’t have. “Alright, what’s his name?”

“Choi Seungcheol,” Jeonghan tells him, tongue tripping over the syllables. 

Joshua is quiet, eyes narrowed on his phone screen as he does his best to look through every single profile. Jeonghan waits quietly on the edge of his seat as the minutes bleed together. Every now and then, Joshua will show Jeonghan a profile that is not Seungcheol and the search will continue, his hope only dwindling away as the minutes turn into hours.

“This one?”

Jeonghan sighs. “No, that’s not him either.”

“Goddamn it,” Joshua sighs, tossing his phone onto the empty cushion between them. “God, I’m sorry, Jeonghan. Are you sure he exists?”

“At this point I’m not even sure,” Jeonghan says with a bitter laugh. 

Joshua chews on his lip, eyes sympathetic as he looks at Jeonghan. “What now, then?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan mumbles, fidgeting with his cold fingers. “Just wait for a miracle, I guess.”

Joshua gives him a sad look that he ignores.

☃︎

Jeonghan tries.

At the very least, he fucking tries. 

He searches for Seungcheol in every crowd, every public place that he enters. He holds onto the hope like a torn blanket in the hand of a petulant toddler. He rereads the comic books, makes notes on a notepad to let Seungcheol know what he thinks like he promised. He checks social media in hopes that one day, Seungcheol’s profile will appear and he can settle things quickly and the guilt can stop eating him alive.

He doesn’t want to give up, but when days become weeks and the weeks become a full month, he can’t help but let go of all the what if s he carried with him. 

Life keeps moving, and Jeonghan is left to rebuild the pieces of himself he left in Seungcheol’s back pocket.

“You don’t have to come,” Joshua tells him over the phone as Jeonghan rushes to purchase a last minute gift for Joshua’s stupid (kind, very kind and sweet, actually) boyfriend because he chose to extend the invitation to Jeonghan last minute. “You guys can meet another time when you’re not so… Hectic.”

“I’m not hectic,” Jeonghan hisses into the phone, earning a startled look from the cashier as she hands him the expensive sweater neatly placed in the gift bag. Jeonghan thanks her quickly before heading out of the store, his hair and scarf shielding his vision as the wind picks up. Just his luck. “And I’m not gonna skip out on his birthday party, that’s a dick move.”

“All I’m saying is that Seokmin would understand,” Joshua says. “How soon until you get here?”

“Ten minutes,” Jeonghan tells him confidently even though he knows it’s probably closer to twenty minutes. “Why? Am I the last one?”

“No, I think he’s still waiting on his friend,” Joshua says. “But hurry up, I know you’re not ten minutes away.”

Joshua hangs up before Jeonghan can reply, forcing him to quicken his pace even with his vision partially limited because of the wind and his stupid scarf. Somehow, in the midst of his tousle with his scarf,  he manages to walk straight into a patch of iced over sidewalk, losing his balance and stumbling straight into a dog leash, tripping and running smack into the poor stranger just trying to walk their dog.

“Ah, fuck,” Jeonghan curses, hands prying the scarf out of his face to properly apologize. “I’m sorry—ah, this scarf is driving me crazy—”

“Kkuma,” the person says. “Sit, Kkuma.”

Jeonghan freezes, fingers catching onto the edge of his scarf. Slowly, he pulls it down and off his eyes, a soft gasp falling from his mouth when he realizes who it is. “Seungcheol?”

Seungcheol’s eyebrows are furrowed. He looks different like this, dressed in baggy cargo pants and a graphic sweater that hides his frame. There’s a backwards hat on his head and cross earrings hanging from his lobes. His eyes go wide the moment he recognizes Jeonghan. “Yoon Jeonghan?”

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan repeats, stepping out of where he’s still tangled up in the pink leash. He looks down and finds the dog— Kkuma— sitting patiently, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she happily regards Jeonghan. 

Seungcheol presses his lips together, clicking his tongue at Kkuma to get her to stand up. “Sorry, I have to go—”

Jeonghan quickly reaches out, grabbing Seungcheol’s elbow before he can go too far. He can’t let him go again, not like this. “Wait, no! Please, Seungcheol I—I tried to reach out to you but—” He pulls out his wallet, taking out the folded note and shoving it into Seungcheol’s palm with shaking hands. “I couldn’t figure out the last few numbers and—and my friend and I looked everywhere for you online but we couldn’t find anything and—and… Please, Seungcheol. I tried, I did, I swear.”

Seungcheol unfolds the notes, mouth parting with a soft sound as his eyes flicker across the paper. “Oh.”

“I promise, I would have called you as soon as I woke up,” Jeonghan continues. “I’ve—I’ve missed you.”

Something in Seungcheol’s expression softens. He presses his lips together, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the polaroid from all those weeks ago, handing it to Jeonghan. “I was gonna give this back to you on our first date,” he says with a small smile. “I… When I didn’t get a call I thought that maybe it was too good to be true, you know? That you just… you just wanted to have some fun away from your normal life.”

“I want you in my normal life,” Jeonghan tells him, desperate. “We can still go on that date, we can go now—”

“I—Jeonghan, I can’t,” Seungcheol says, reaching out to hold Jeonghan’s hand when his expression starts to fall. “No! Not like that—it’s—I have to go to my friend’s birthday party, I really can’t miss it.”

“Oh,” Jeonghan says. “That’s funny, actually, I have to be at a friend’s party, too. Well, not really a friend, he’s my friend Joshua’s boyfriend, but still. Maybe… Maybe we can rain check that date? And you can give me your number—”

“Joshua?” Seungcheol repeats. “Joshua Hong?”

Jeonghan pauses. “How do you know my best friend’s name?”

“My friend started dating this guy and wanted me to meet him tonight—”

“Lee Seokmin,” Jeonghan says over him. “Is that—”

“That’s my friend.”

There’s a beat of silence before the both of them burst into laughter, everything somehow falling into place and simultaneously feeling like it’s the furthest thing from reality.

“Well,” Seungcheol says after a moment, the same soft smile Jeonghan has missed forming a dimple on his cheek. “Do you wanna walk together, then?”

“I’d love to,” Jeonghan smiles, falling into step with Seungcheol. “God, Joshua isn’t gonna believe me.”

“Really, though,” Seungcheol says under his breath, shaking his head and looking over at Jeonghan as Kkuma guides them. Between them, their pinkies brush between steps. “What are the odds?”

“I don’t know,” Jeonghan says, taking a leap and intertwining their fingers, overjoyed when Seungcheol ducks his head down to hide his smile. “But I like these odds.”

“You know,” Seungcheol starts, tone familiar. “This is sort of like fate.”

Jeonghan cackles, taken back to one of their first real conversations all those weeks ago. “Yeah? You think so?”

Seungcheol nods. “I could always use more friends—”

Jeonghan trips him. Kkuma barks at him. “Yah! You wanna be friends, Choi Seungcheol? We can be friends—”

“No! Please, I can’t be just friends with you,” Seungcheol says, back to being utterly charming despite Jeonghan’s teasing. “It would kill me. Like you almost did when we first met—”

This time, Jeonghan shuts him up with a kiss.