tell me your wish.

there’s the hint of a smile at the corner of her lips at first, but it drops easily — even if she was being truthful with him, she still felt regret in telling him anything at all. maybe it was the mental and emotional state that she had been stewing in, but there was a voice at the back of her mind that made her want to take back the invitation; to tell him that she was fine, that he didn’t need to waste his time on coming to visit her — but she had a feeling he wouldn’t let that slide either. she knew she wouldn’t if the situation was turned around.

( mssg; big baby )

✉ I mean I could leave you at that, but that would probably warrant an ass kicking and I would rather not. ✉  I was just going to explain further when you got here, but I guess I can warn you about how pathetic I probably look currently. ✉ Nothing is broken, thankfully.  A couple bruises and cuts, a little sore, but nothing drastic. ✉ The only thing really bothering me is my leg and my problem knee since that took a fairly heavy hit, but it’ll be fine once the swelling goes down more, no worries.

it’s not that she wants to play down her current state — that was just one thing she was still working on; admitting to being hurt, to acknowledging that she didn’t need to put on a strong front, or that she didn’t have to fear the consequences of taking injury after something she couldn’t foresee.

but she still felt bad. she was feeling bad for…well, most things if not everything in that moment.

( mssg; big baby )

✉ oh, absolutely, that’s why i threw in the word asshole. ✉ i’ll have to make it a point to see my favourite angel sometime, but you’ll do for today ✉  please be careful while you’re out, and on your way over. ✉ reading and sleeping is about the extent of what I’ve been doing, other than being a dumb asshole ✉ trying to cope with how mad I am at myself, haha

she backspaces the entirety of the last entry before she even has a chance to consider sending it, deeming it too troublesome, just…too much in general.

✉ also kind of tired of listening to myself - so, what have you been doing? have you and gyu been alright?

he wishes he could feel more comforted by her words, but he knows what she’s like. he knows she would rather not worry him, play things down as if they’re not anything more than a mild inconvenience no matter how big the true problem is. but what he hopes she knows is that no matter how small the issue, he will always come to her aid. she doesn’t have to lie or pretend, because he’ll still come regardless. sure, he’ll whine more if she calls him over to do her bidding when all she has is a light headache, but he would still stay as long as she needed. he gets the impression things aren’t quite as they seem, but her willingness to open up a little more does make the wait a little more bearable. 

outgoing → nerd ( ✉ ) i’m gonna kick your ass anyway. i can, so why not? ( ✉ ) seulgi, i’m sure you don’t look pathetic. no more than usual, anyway.  ( ✉ ) you know, if you’re lying to me, I will find out very soon regardless, so you may as well be completely honest with me now so I don’t scold you more later. I’m already preparing my ‘you should have been more careful’ speech in advance. 

he thinks to ask if there’s any groceries she needs him to pick up before he arrives, too, but it’ll be easier to actually check when he gets there. she’ll only argue that she doesn’t want to put him out. heaving a sigh, he pushes open the door to the bakery and checks his phone again once he’s in the queue. 

outgoing → nerd  ( ✉ ) makes sense. wouldn’t want me to get confused and think you actually like me!  ( ✉ ) i’ll ‘do’... to think I’m in a queue right now to buy you a treat... I’m a fool.  ( ✉ ) did you... forget who you’re talking to? everyone else should be careful of ME.  ( ✉ ) (i will, mom, i’ll make sure to look both ways before i cross the road and wait for the light!)  ( ✉ ) sounds like your normal every day life... 

at the call for his turn to order, he steps forward and picks a few different desserts, watches as they carefully pack them into a travel box. it’ll be harder for him to text with one hand, but it’s worth it. after all, he wasn’t kidding when he said this place had some of the best baking he’s ever had. 

a few solid minutes have passed with hyunmi just talking about the tattoo wonwoo had just showed her. she, personally, wanted to get so many tattoos. she had many ideas, many reasons, but there was never enough time to go and get them inked. that, and the fact that she was too scared she would never get rid of them. however, meaningful things like the one the male had, made her whole being swell with pure joy and warmth. she wished she had such meaningful stuff in her life.. maybe she should get a tattoo related to programming, but even then that made her shudder.

it doesn’t take her long to notice that wonwoo was lost in his own thought, but she isn’t upset by it. she simply waves her hand in front of his face “wonwoo? you there? hello, earth to wonwoo?” hyunmi says, brows raised high as she leans from side to side, smile pulling wide on her lips “you good there? you seemed to zone of?” she adds, not offended even a bit. she is aware she can ramble a lot whenever it came to things that excited her, and the fact that she talked wonwoo’s ear off when she first saw that engagement ring on his finger, she thinks it wasn’t surprising she would do that with the tattoo as well “i’m really happy for you~” hyunmi says, placing her elbows on the table and cupping her face in her hands, smile never leaving her lips.

it’s not often that wonwoo gets lost in thought like this. not listening is a common occurrence, but it’s typically a choice or just plain ignorance, not his mind working so much overtime that he forgets his surroundings entirely. but it seems a lot easier lately, with mingyu’s proposal still so fresh in his mind. his cheeks are a soft pink when he realises hyunmi is waving her hand in front of his eyes to bring him back to reality. “huh? yeah, sorry. just thinking.” he answers vaguely, brushing his behaviour off. he feels a little bad for not hearing anything she’d just said but she doesn’t seem too put out by it. not that he knows for sure because reading people has never been his strong suit, but he’s sure enough. he knows he should ask what she was saying but she’s already talking again and he can’t help the wide smile that stretches his lips. 

xing never really talked to strangers, but he felt really bad for this one.. and there wasn’t a lot of staff members in the store at the moment so he decided to help out.

the boy shook his head and smiled, “no I don’t work here.. but i still know a lot about art and all this stuff!”

he let out a quiet laugh, “It’s okay if you’re not artistically inclined.. You just have to know a couple things!”

xing then picked out some colors that were in front of the man and looked at him, “if you want to find good paint, you have to know what type of art you want to do! in this case, what type of art does your gift recipient like to do?”

He then pointed to the acrylics and at the oil paints, “Oil and acrylics are usually good for sceneries and large backgrounds, they are also usually thicker. Most of my classmates use watercolor though, as it’s easier to blend colors and make really cool work with!” “In my case, I usually use all types of paint.. But I mainly use water color since I have the most experience with it!” Xing then turned to the man, “So what type of art does your gift recipient do? We can go from there!”

he wishes he could answer the younger’s barrage of questions, but truthfully, wonwoo knows so little about this stuff that even in the case of his boyfriend’s art, something he sees so often, he feels like he has no idea where to even start. not to mention the boy doesn’t actually work here, should he really be wasting his time like this? he seems eager to help, though...

“well,” he begins with a soft hum, “he’s one of those people who would try anything, especially if I bought it for him, but what I see him do most is portraits... of me. that’s not important, but I like to brag about it.” he tilts his head to the side slightly, a small smirk stretching one corner of his lips. the other wouldn’t be wrong assuming wonwoo is at least a little conceited, but deep down, the masterpieces mingyu does in his honour help soothe a lot of his insecurities. where he thinks he lacks, mingyu seems to find more than enough beauty in it to immortalise it in art, so how can he continue to feel bad? how can he feel anything other than love? 

jeongguk hums in agreement, because he always was one, and he’s still both smart and a bit of an ass to this day, all of his growth aside. wonwoo really should think through what he says if he doesn’t want jeongguk picking it apart. he excels when it comes to details, of course. it’s funny that wonwoo confirms exactly what he was thinking, too, but not funny enough to warrant another smile or anything resembling a laugh. it’s still amusing, regardless.

will wonwoo’s concern ever be anything less than perplexing? it’s almost irritating– like a puzzle jeongguk can’t solve, or a case he can’t crack, and he’s always hated those. he won’t dare ask, however, but he wonders. what has he ever done for wonwoo but call him a nuisance? get him intel? tell him what to do and call him an idiot? those were his primary functions back in his days of phoenix, and while he’s sure they missed his skills, he doubted much beyond that. his reception with phoenix members thus far has been far warmer than expected, but he knows his luck will run out soon enough. he doesn’t dare test it.

still, here wonwoo is, offering…companionship? tentative assistance– an alliance. jeongguk can play along, at least as far as it looks safe, which means sharing little, keeping in mind that anything he says to wonwoo is still saying something to phoenix. regardless of wonwoo’s stupidity and tendency to appear sincere, jeongguk can’t do anything but expect betrayal.

“i’m reading a lot of ebooks,” he replies, not in need of any deliveries, and he holds his head a little high as he says it. “i could just…get as many as i want by hacking the stores, but,” he shrugged, and maybe he shouldn’t say it. maybe it would too easily indicate where his allegiances lie now; maybe in itself, it’s dangerous to admit he’s strayed from illegal activity. “i’m trying to live honestly.” he says it regardless. he decides to leave the details out, because it might be more incriminating if he shares that his most recent read was on forensics. he’s been trying to learn more about the details of his coworkers’ lives (because he’s professional enough not to find them by hacking.)

wonwoo thinks that whilst jeongguk obviously isn’t the same uptight hacker he used to know, not too much has changed either. he still hits him with the same wit, the same air of superiority that perhaps he just can’t shake even if he wanted to. he still speaks like he’s withholding something, like he’s biting his tongue, but wonwoo hasn’t changed that much either. he still doesn’t care about any of it, still believes it’s possible to form at least a tolerable friendship despite their circumstances. he isn’t asking jeeonguk to be his third best friend, but he doesn’t want to be strangers either. he’s never depended on companionship until mingyu and with that exception, he doesn’t now either, but it does seems like a little lonely of a life to be able to count all your best friends right down to acquaintances on just one hand. he won’t be inviting jeongguk out for a hot beverage every weekend, but he’d like to comfortably be able to greet one another in situations like this, at least. 

“e-books? fuck, that’s sad.” he clicks his tongue. he can see the appeal of having so many novels at your fingertips, but nothing beats the feeling of holding a real book in your bare hands. nothing beats paper cuts from turning too many pages or seeing your bookshelf overflow with all your new purchases. “call me old fashioned but it just isn’t the same. then again, I suppose you’re much more comfortable with technology than I am. not that it takes much; mingyu and I have one of those fridges with a little screen and even that stresses me out.” he hums softly. really, he should be embarrassed but it takes a lot to make wonwoo’s cheeks turn pink when it comes to things like this. he isn’t ashamed of his upbringing or the gaps where his knowledge seems to lack. if anything, it’s a chance to learn more, though he doesn’t really have any interest in understanding computers — or the screen on his fridge. as long as everything inside stays cool, isn’t that the point of a fridge? 

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(tw: brief mention of drugs/pain killers, injury)

seulgi knew that she should have said something the moment she had her bearings back, the moment she was patched up and sent home, or the moment that she saw the reports after the bombings; how many were killed, how many were injured  — especially when she knew that she was among the numbers of the latter. but she didn’t. instead she had taken her temporary dismissal from her superiors and went off the grid, hiding in her own home to simmer in her disappointment towards herself and supposedly to start focusing on recovery.

but that wasn’t fair to anyone else. it wasn’t fair to those who could have been worried about her, one way or the other  — whether it was for purely business concerns, or if there was genuine care involved, and whether she’d admit it or not, it wasn’t fair to herself to continue to beat herself up over things that she virtually couldn’t control in the first place. the injury, her worries — yet the weight of time seemed to keep her where she was.

for the most part, unless it had been dire or work related, she ignored phone calls and text messages; she convinced herself she was too tired to respond (and for a short period, with the haze of pain killers, she was too tired, but alas, things had to continue, with or without her).

she had been half asleep on her couch, her injured leg propped on pillows, an ice pack draped over a strained shoulder. that was, until the ice pack slipped off her shoulder and back over the arm of the couch when she jolted a little too quickly at the vibration of her phone in her lap from a text message.

seulgi grumbles, picking up her phone, ready to toss it to the other end of the couch if it’s something she deemed “unimportant” at the time — but her attitude changes rather quickly when she sees who it is and what he has to say; the inevitable soft spot coming to light when she remembers how bad she felt for not reaching out to certain loved ones at any point…until now, when one was reaching out to her first.

( mssg; big baby )

✉  Aw, did you miss me? ✉  Yeah, I’m still alive. Much to some people’s dismay. A little banged up, but I’ve been worse.

she debates for a few seconds on whether she wants to let him know what her current condition was, thinking of hiding it — but she knew he would find out eventually, whether it be from one of their peers, or on his own.

that and…just the weight of how alone and awful she felt about everything was starting to weigh in, and perhaps she was slipping a little on her seemingly normal behavior.

( mssg; big baby )

✉ I may be out of commission for a little bit. But that being said, I have a lot of time to sit around and be a dumb asshole. ✉ So…if my favorite asshole would like to drop by sometime, possibly with some sweets, that’d be cool. ✉ I’ll even pay you for the trouble.

he’d sooner shoot himself in the foot than tell seulgi how he leapt for his phone the moment it buzzed with a notification. it could’ve been anything but the trickle of hope that maybe it was her reassuring him that everything was okay had been enough to get his heart racing. he almost drops it, but it slips through his fingers into his other hand until he rolls back over in bed. the ceiling blurs behind her name on the screen and the subsequent messages that come through. he can only see previews for the longer ones but to just receive anything at all puts his heart at a lot more ease. though, now he has to come up with a good excuse. 

outgoing → nerd ( ✉ ) you wish 

much to some people’s dismay. he knows it’s a risk of the job, to have enemies, but it still leaves an unsettled feeling in his stomach. it feels like it means more this time. maybe she’s just poking fun at him but it’s easier for him to overthink this time of year. ( it’s usually harmless things about his gifts for others being liked or whether his decorations are tasteful, but with everything going on, it’s been seeping into other concerns and he doesn’t like it at all. )

he turns over once more, resting on his elbows despite the ache that starts to build in his stressed shoulders. 

outgoing → nerd ( ✉ ) define ‘banged up’, asshole. you can’t leave me with that.  ( ✉ ) out of commission? the fuck, seulgi, is someone looking after you?  ( ✉ ) you’re right, you ARE a dumb asshole. 

maybe he’s going in a little too hard but he’s more worried now than he’d ever been before. he’s already on his feet and heading through the apartment to find mingyu when he sees her next message. she’s crazy if she thinks he’d say no to seeing her any time ( without good reason ), but especially in a situation like this — especially with those vague as fuck messages beforehand. he kisses his boyfriend goodbye as he throws on his coat, turns back at mingyu’s call to realise he hadn’t picked up his wallet.

outgoing → nerd ( ✉ ) if you hadn’t said ‘favourite ASSHOLE’, i would’ve sent over mingyu.  ( ✉ ) but I guess that means you’re looking for me, huh?  ( ✉ ) i’ll be there in a bit, i’ll stop for food. keep texting me, though, i’ll get bored otherwise.  ( ✉ ) what are you doing with all your free time besides being a dumb asshole? 

Samuel knows and admits that he’s shameless with his promotion tactics. He watches potential customers’ behaviours attentively, figuring out what makes them tick, what makes them doubt themselves and mostly especially, what makes them dip their hands into their pockets for their wallets.

Cooking demonstrations have been his most popular method, but with his strong arm, he tends to bring out the more harsher promotion tactics of fanning the smell of his cooking to people contemplating what they want for their meals. For the ones that can’t control themselves, he has foldable stools readily available. If he had even the slightest of moments to be able to watch anime, he could say he emulates one of the characters that have mischievous plans without saying he has a plan.

Today, his target is one of his somewhat regular customers, knowing that a regular meant they loved his food. To what extent depended on their pockets, as he brought out a large fan to start wafting that smell to his target from behind.

It’s no secret that Wonwoo’s weak spot pre-Mingyu is noodles. For the couple years he spent with Mingyu at arm’s length, he regularly ate the instant food for lunch and dinner, too lazy and unskilled to make much else. His cupboards were filled with the cardboard pots where they should have stored spices or everlasting tins, even glasses. ( The only shelf untouched was his mug collection, all ready at a moment’s notice for a particular mood with his beloved tea. ) When he and Mingyu’s friendship developed on that fateful birthday in 2016, so did healthier habits. Not for lack of trying, though, because every time Wonwoo would try and sneak a pot into his diet, he’d find Mingyu had already hidden the majority of his stock, even those he tucked in secret locations. 

But home-cooked, real noodles— Those have always been fair game and Wonwoo now considers them a treat every so often, and whilst he could go anywhere, he’s predictable by nature and returns to the same place every time. Why change what isn’t broken, right? If the food is always good, why risk going anywhere else? 

xing made his way to myeongcho mall happily, a list of what he needs to get forming in the back of his mind.

charcoal pencils, fine tip pens, brush pens, washi tape, water color brushes, painting knives for his new set of oil paints and a couple canvases.

he’ll probably think of more stuff to buy once he gets to the art store, after all the staff there knows he buys a lot of stuff whenever he visits.

once he arrives at the store, he smiles at the staff and gets a cart. already, he’s gotten all the things that were on his mental list, but he knows there’s some new releases at the store. xing somehow finds his way into the paint aisle.

a bright smile comes upon his face as he sees new water colors and he whispers to himself, “new watercolors to swatch-! and i can use the new brushes..”

he quickly picked a couple palettes and placed them in his cart, along with some more oil paints and acrylic paints.

as he got the paints he noticed someone in the paint aisle, the man seemed to be confused as he looked at the paints, maybe he was a new artist? xing debated on talking to the man, and try to help him.

but first he looked around for a staff member.. none. oh well.. it’s time for him to be social..

quietly he tapped on the man’s shoulder, “h-hello there sir.. are you having some troubles picking paint..?”

wonwoo would have thought after so many years of not only knowing mingyu, but later dating him, he’d understand at least a little about the mediums he enjoys. truthfully, wonwoo finds it difficult to commit the information to memory, feeling lost at all the different types of paint on the shelves. he knows about acrylics, watercolours, and he knows mingyu would use anything he bought, but why are there so many different brands? what makes one brand stand out from another? surely it’s all just... paint, right? 

he chews on his bottom lip. usually if he stands here long enough, a staff member takes pity on him and comes over to help him out but he feels like he’s been here an hour ( it’s probably realistically about fifteen minutes, but wonwoo is nothing if not dramatic ) before anyone notices him. a timid voice calls out to him and wonwoo’s head snaps up in an instant. 

mixseungwoo

they say the eyes are the window to the soul, so seungwoo stare burns into wonwoo’s, and he tries to read him. he wonders if they wear similar masks of confidence where there is so little, though they’re different in ways too. seungwoo’s is always laughter, always smiles that somehow always meet his eyes despite the constant lingering darkness. what is wonwoo like really, beyond this lack of fear in the face of death?

(yes, in this moment, seungwoo is the death that refuses to come for him. he is the grim reaper, and the embodiment of all of his longing.)

maybe he and wonwoo are the same, and wonwoo appears so unshakable because just like seungwoo, he has nothing to lose but his life, and maybe that isn’t much. if their positions were reversed, seungwoo would look at him, unblinking, and tell him to do it– to take that knife and make him bleed. but wonwoo doesn’t, and maybe that answers seungwoo’s question. maybe there is something, and this is just wonwoo, even after all of these years, not wanting to give him any satisfaction, or any power. maybe it’s wonwoo, trying to convince him that after all of these years, he is still in control.

seungwoo is no longer so easily convinced. his entire life led to this moment, and he will not crumble, even when wonwoo claims otherwise. his hand doesn’t shake; his grip on the knife doesn’t loosen. (can he not? what if he can’t kill him?)

“same to you,” he replies. “whatever helps you sleep at night.” surely this won’t be so easy to forget. he hopes this moment looms over him and leaves him staring up at his ceiling, just a little on edge. he hopes its constant: the ever-lingering anxiety, the always looking over his shoulder, the wanting to climb out of his skin that seungwoo felt for years. the what if he’s really dangerous and what if he’ll still hurt me and the what if jeongwoo can’t stop him. it haunted him when he was younger, constantly, and in the end, he was right, but he still didn’t do enough. he let his worries remain that way, frozen by his fear, left in nothing but detrimental inaction.

it’s like wonwoo grows more and more infuriating. not being able to keep your mouth shut must run in the family. he doesn’t even say he’s not scared. only fearful people would feel the need to defend themselves like that, but seungwoo is confident. he stamped out the terror wonwoo etched into his heart years ago, all scar tissue, tortured muscle in his chest still beating against all odds and desires. instead, he spits, “there’s nothing you can do to me,” that i wouldn’t welcome.

“17 years is nothing compared to losing the person most important to you in the world,” he returns, but it’s not as vicious, more somber, but he tilts his head to the side, suddenly curious. “do you have somebody like that, wonwoo? do you know what that feels like?”

whatever game seungwoo thinks he’s playing, thinks wonwoo is playing, wonwoo dreads to imagine. his life is never a game anymore, not now that he has so much to live for, but he doesn’t want seungwoo to know the full extent of that. he doesn’t believe the older will kill him, doesn’t believe he’ll be able to get his hands on either of his loved ones either, but the threat still stands and wonwoo will take it seriously for as long as he does. he still mocks, still wobbles here and there because he can’t resist putting his weakest brother in his place, but for the most part, wonwoo tries to at least somewhat carefully choose his words and ( small ) movements. seungwoo doesn’t falter physically, but wonwoo hears it in the slight shift in his voice. he doesn’t usually notice anything, but with a blade pressed to his throat, he’s looking out for anything that can offer him a chance to create some distance between the two of them. 

but then seungwoo asks him a question and wonwoo considers lying, but he doesn’t know what’s worse — seungwoo, finding out by himself at any time, or wonwoo knowing ahead of time that he will be looking for answers and waiting for the bulb to light. 

it’s interesting to mingyu, the way that everything changes. nothing ever remains the same, which has proven to be a good thing regarding his life. there are shifts and turns and all of the things that he’s always tried to teach himself to be ready for, yet sometimes he is still taken by surprise. one of the biggest surprising changes of his life occurred four years ago on this very day. it’s not something he could ever forget, even if in the moment he wished the memory would dissipate as quickly as it formed. fortunately, it didn’t go anywhere, and the instance triggered a chain of events that landed him where he is today. it was the first time that either of them managed to let down their walls and be someone else, the person that was hidden inside of both of them, for the person that already was, and forever would be, the most important entity in their lives.

time passed by quicker than mingyu ever imagined possible. before meeting the younger male, every day felt like an eternity. even for a while after, they still seemed to drag on until he felt like his body would wither away and the life would be drained from him before he could even greet dusk. yet, he managed to make it through those difficult hours, and now he finds himself content and peaceful. instead of thinking that the tunnel would collapse and crush him beneath the rubble, he felt like it was strong, sturdy, and that there was a light at the end, waiting for him, shining with hope like a lighthouse beacon on the stormiest of nights.

somehow, the young, angry boy that once clung to the past and all that he had lost has managed to heal, currently living in a world where he has dreams, and those dreams don’t seem too far out of his reach. all of his desires were at his fingertips and all he had to do is push forward and close that small distance so that he could allow them to form and manifest beautifully. so, once they finished their dinner that was romantically lit by the warm glow of the candles flickering around them, mingyu quickly cleaned up behind them, allowing wonwoo to assist before taking his boyfriend’s hand and guiding him to the living room. once there, mingyu sat down on the sofa, tugging his lover close enough to softly press a kiss to his lips, smiling faintly as he continued to linger there for several seconds after.

slowly, he opens his eyes and pulls away enough to study all of wonwoo’s features, one hand lifting to gently caress his face while he admired the never-ending beauty before him. “i love you.” it’s all he says at first, though he doesn’t intend on stopping there. “i’ve never loved anyone as intensely as i’ve loved you. i know that i probably sound like a fucking broken record after all of this time, but i’m so goddamn thankful for you. you saved my life. you saved me. and… i mean in more ways than just the obvious. i can’t see myself without you at this point, and i pray to whoever the hell that’s listening that i won’t ever have to.” he takes a short break, stroking along the younger’s cheekbone and jawline before kissing him again, a little longer this time.

“i’ve got some things i need to get off my chest, so just… give me a few moments to get them out, okay? i think you will be more than aware when i’m done, so… i know at this point that i want to be with you for the rest of my life, jeon wonwoo. that’s not ever going to change, i am sure of it. i’m better when i’m with you. i want to live, because i want to be with you. you are… absolutely everything to me, and i am in love with you. so hopelessly, desperately, irrevocably in love with you.” he smiles warmly at the other, taking his hand in his own. “i know that you love my birthdays even more than i do, and you always give me the best gifts and experiences and i feel so unworthy of you. but, i’m never going to give you up regardless. and, this year for my birthday, there’s really only one thing that i want, and i want it more than i’ve ever wanted anything else.”

as he pauses, he stands from the sofa just long enough to kneel down in front of wonwoo, though he actually recreates their position of the time they shared their first kiss. the difference is, mingyu takes wonwoo’s place on the floor as wonwoo remains sitting, the very same place that mingyu had been on that day. “i just want you, wonwoo. i want you until the end of time, for as long as we both live… just over three years ago, i kissed you for the first time right here. then, not a long time after that, you told me to be your boyfriend… but now, i’m here and telling you that i want you to be even more than that. so, jeon wonwoo…”

another pause, allowing mingyu to take a breath and ignore his rapid heartbeat as he stares into his boyfriend’s eyes, prepared to catch the first glimpse of his reaction. “marry me.”

wonwoo’s always loved the concept of birthdays, yet, until mingyu, he’d never really had a birthday. four years ago to the day, he celebrated someone else’s birthday for the first time, felt the touch of mingyu’s skin under his own and the jump of his heart at the unexpected and unlikely chance to sneak past mingyu’s carefully crafted walls. four years since the first time wonwoo let his own defences down, put his pride aside to hold someone else in the dark of a lonely night until morning warmth swept over them and set their hearts ablaze. four years since the first moment he started to fall in love with kim mingyu, even if he didn’t know it at the time. 

through it all, mingyu had always been his constant. mingyu had always been by his side through all his happiest days, through his insufferable festive cheer and his endless bad habits. he’d held him at his lowest and lifted him to his highs. he’d trusted wonwoo with everything— with his life, even when mingyu didn’t feel it was worth it. the crippling ache in his chest seeing mingyu’s eyes so empty is but a distant memory now, compared to the sparkle he sees every morning from where the top of wonwoo’s head peeks out of the top of the covers. it’s nothing compared to the presence of happy canines poking out and smiles pressed to each other’s lips. it’s history, their history, and wonwoo wouldn’t trade any of it for the world because it lead them here — to their fifth of mingyu’s birthdays together. every second, whether it be in pain or in joy, had him falling just that little bit deeper in love until mingyu became his everything. 

( until the seventeen years he suffered, spent hoping that he was still worthy of love, were just a rough first draft of a much more important story — their story. )

mingyu doesn’t like to make too much of a fuss of his birthday but wonwoo tries not to let him get away with it. for them, it’s never been about grand gestures, but about memories; calm dates along scenic nature walks and long mornings spent tangled up in bed, and today, a candlelit dinner in their apartment, the lights down low and their cheeks rosy with a perfect mix of love and playful remarks. then mingyu’s leading him to the sofa and wonwoo can only assume his ass was going just as numb sitting on the wooden dining chairs as his was, but he’d follow mingyu anywhere without a word, so it hardly matters anyway. 

wonwoo kisses him back with all the gentleness mingyu is giving him, and a soft pout at the loss of contact once they part. it slowly falls into a frown when he can’t get an ‘I love you’ into the small silence mingyu leaves him, but it’s washed away by curiosity as mingyu continues. his boyfriend will always say he isn’t as good with words as wonwoo, but in moments like this, wonwoo can barely understand where that mindset could even have stemmed from. mingyu speaks as if he’s reciting a poem, a beautiful sonnet written just for wonwoo. 

when he thinks about it after the fact, he thinks mingyu probably expected him to catch on somewhere along the way, but when the final two words leave mingyu’s lips, wonwoo lets out the most pitiful sob of surprise. entranced by his every word, he hadn’t thought at all about where this was headed, about what the one thing mingyu wanted could possibly be, so when it hits, it hits him hard, right in the heart. 

and it’s his worst nightmare, because he’s crying so hard he can’t reply. 

he’s a picture, snotty sniffles and weak, shaken hands reaching out for his boyfriend. he wraps them as well as he can around his broad shoulders, crashes into him with such force that it knocks the little wind out of his lungs. he coughs, splutters as he grips on tighter. “m-m-mingyu...” he should be using what little breath he has left to say the magic word, but he wants to look at him when he answers, wants to see the joy in his expression, to see that sparkle in his eyes twinkle tenfold and his god damn canines take pride and place out in the open. so he leans his back against the sofa, easily ignores the stinging in his knees from hitting the floor and reaches up to hold each of mingyu’s cheeks and runs his thumbs against his the skin under his eyes.