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On a cold Saturday in February, Seungkwan, in a heap of exhausted limbs, mildly champagne drunk, makes Hansol promise him one very simple thing—

“Promise me we will never get married.”

At this, Hansol just laughs, tugging Seungkwan’s dress shoes off his feet so he can properly curl up on the hotel bed. 

Seungkwan frowns. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m being so serious.” 

And so Hansol agrees if only so Seungkwan can finally fall asleep instead of insisting that Hansol stick out his pinky to concretely swear they never will. The promise is spurred on only by the return after Seungkwan’s sister’s wedding, a beautiful event that also drained him mentally, physically, and emotionally. But it’s a deal made, nonetheless. 

A pact that is soon forgotten by only some parties involved.

* * *

“Hwang Eunbi, you sneaky bitch!” 

This is what Seungkwan congratulates his friends with nearly five whole months later when Eunbi and Yewon FaceTime him from their vacation in Bali, an engagement ring on Yewon’s finger. They’re a little pixelated, but Seungkwan can still make out their smiles, and the gorgeous diamond now adorning Yewon’s hand. 

“I told you to stay by your phone,” Eunbi says, passive. “I just couldn’t actually tell you I was going to do it because you’re a loudmouth.”

“I am not,” Seungkwan argues before immediately turning away from the phone to yell into the rest of their apartment, “Hansol-ah!” 

Eunbi turns to Yewon, rolling her eyes. “What did I tell you?” 

Hansol enters before Seungkwan can defend himself again because the apartment is not big by any means and Seungkwan probably didn’t need to yell at all. Still. 

“What happened?” Hansol looks lost, maybe a little scared, too, but also very cute, which Seungkwan thinks he’ll tell him once they hang up with his friends. He’s wearing a black shirt that is way too heavy for the warm weather outside, but it fits his arms very nicely, so Seungkwan allows it. 

“Eunbi and Yewonie are getting married,” Seungkwan explains excitedly. He shakes his phone. “Get over here, oh my god.”  

Seungkwan tilts the phone in Hansol’s direction before he can really even reach the couch Seungkwan’s sitting on and squints at the screen. 

“Ta-da!” Yewon holds her hand up again and Hansol mumbles out his usual oh, wow! before he throws them a thumbs-up. 

“Go lesbians!” he cheers, and it’s all very lame, but it makes Yewon laugh and Eunbi looks kind of proud, so worth it. 

They say their goodbye’s fairly quickly after that—something about Seungkwan hogging up all their wifi when they still have other friends to call—but the news still leaves Seungkwan with a giddy sort of feeling bubbling in his chest. He loves love. He turns to where Hansol is now standing with a bag of shrimp chips, having wandered over to the kitchen for them towards the end of the call, and decides he loves loving Hansol more. 

“So another engagement,” Hansol concludes through a mouth of crunching. It’s not very charming, but Seungkwan is unfortunately so immune to him; he’s pretty sure Hansol could do or say anything at this point and Seungkwan could find it at least a little endearing. “What’s that—like, the third this year?” 

“Fourth, if you count the impending Seokminie and Myungho hyung engagement.” 

“I don’t,” Hansol says with a laugh. “Do you genuinely think Seokmin hyung has the balls? He’s going to be holding that ring until they both die. Or until like, Myungho finally gives up on waiting and asks him instead.” 

“Myungho hyung is stubborn, though,” Seungkwan muses. “Their death might come first.”

Hansol points a finger at him. “Exactly.” 

“Is something in the air?” Seungkwan asks, locking his phone and tossing it onto the couch, following Hansol as he turns to head back into the kitchen. “Like mercury is doing that thing or something. Everyone is getting married or engaged lately.”

“You know I’m shit with horoscopes. You’ll have to ask Soonyoungie hyung about that.”

“Noted.” 

Seungkwan follows Hansol to where he’s busy fishing for more snacks in the cabinet, hooking his chin over his shoulder while his boyfriend pushes the healthier options out of the way. They need to go grocery shopping. Seungkwan makes a mental note to get Jeonghan to accompany him sometime this week. 

“If there’s one thing all these engagements and weddings have taught me, though, is that it’s hard work,” Hansol says, deciding to now raid the honey butter chips. “I mean—all the effort and pressure just for one day. Y’know?”

He turns around, slowly, just to make sure Seungkwan has enough time to remove his chin from its resting spot. He settles his hands at Hansol’s waist instead, because he’s clingy and greedy and does indeed still think Hansol looks adorable. 

“It is a lot of work,” Seungkwan agrees. He saw his sister go through it most recently and even helped with the planning and it was stressful, to say the least. “But it’d still be nice to have a wedding. One day.”

“Oh, really?” Hansol raises a brow, just a little bit and Seungkwan frowns. 

“Well, sure.” He moves the bag of chips out of their faces and frowns a little deeper. Hansol looks like he doesn’t know what to do with his hands now that they’re not cradling the snack. He licks his pointer finger and thumb, and Seungkwan doesn’t have the time to find it gross. “Why say ‘oh, really’ like that?”

“Because I—“ Hansol starts, then stops. He wipes his hand onto his sweatpants and then brings them both to Seungkwan’s shoulders, rubbing at them gently. “You just said it was stressful. And we have a lot of other people’s wedding things going on right now and after every one we go to, you always say, ‘never again, Solie—‘“

“I do not sound like that, you—”

“You so do,” Hansol giggles, and then continues. “My point being, I was just—confused that you were suddenly into it.”

“That’s why I said one day,” Seungkwan says. He grabs the bag of honey butter chips because he can and shoves a few in his mouth. “Like, after all this.” 

“Right,” Hansol agrees, looking uncertain for a minute longer, but before Seungkwan can press any more, Hansol takes the chips from him again, tossing them to the side. He leans forward and presses his lips to Seungkwan’s forehead. Sweet. Warm. “Like, after we order dinner.”

“You read my mind, Chwe Hansol,” Seungkwan says, departing from the kitchen for his phone, tugging Hansol with him so they can place an order at that katsu place they love. 

They don’t talk about weddings or engagements for the rest of the night. Seungkwan has no idea if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. 

* * *

Seungkwan tosses a fresh bag of honey butter chips into the shopping cart, frowning down at them as he does. He doesn’t mean to necessarily frown. He just—can’t help it. It’s like he’s only just processed all the events of last night and he doesn’t like any of it. 

The lack of a ring on his finger, the way Hansol tensed up when Seungkwan mentioned getting married, the way they expertly just moved on instead of talking about it. 

Does Hansol not want to marry him? 

“Why are you frowning at the chips?” Jeonghan asks, unamused, one hand pushing the cart while the other holds the pacifier Jiwoo has in her mouth in place. (The toddler refuses to hold it herself, which Seungkwan personally thinks is a streak of stubbornness she gets from Joshua somehow. The jury’s still out on that one, though.) “What did the honey butter chips do to you, my beloved, Seungkwan-ah?”

“Do not patronize me.” 

Jeonghan looks at Jiwoo who’s in the seat of the cart and makes a face. “Tough crowd,” he says to her and naturally, receives no response. 

Seungkwan audibly ugh’s, shuffling his feet down the grocery store aisle, one hand on the edge of the cart. He didn’t necessarily want to have this conversation right now, not with Jeonghan either really, but Jeonghan is in a loving and fully developed relationship, so maybe he is the right one to ask after all. Maybe he can talk Seungkwan out of the terrible spiral Hansol has sent him in. 

“Ok,” he finally gives in, “question.”

“I probably have an answer,” Jeonghan says, not at all humble. “I’m like your gay oracle. I’ve gotten you thus far in life, I can handle everything else, too.”

Seungkwan rolls his eyes, however not disputing it because Jeonghan has, oddly enough, been there as a weird vehicle of advice for most pivotal moments in his life. 

Anyway.  

“Well this is sort of a two-parter, so stay with me,” Seungkwan says, warily. Then, just to be annoying, “Are you sure you can keep up, grandpa? Have you had your vitamin D injections today? Need to take a rest to recalibrate first?” 

“First of all, I’m going to outlive all of you,” Jeonghan says matter-of-factly. “I fear nothing and have the complexion of a teenage idol who just got a skincare deal. So fuck off.”

“When Jiwoo grows up swearing, it’ll be your fault.”

“No, it won’t, I’ll blame Shua. Right, Jiwoo-yah? It would never be me.” Jeonghan smiles at Jiwoo, using a cute voice and nodding his head to get her to nod back. She does, so Jeonghan lifts his head back up high, satisfied. He switches back to his normal voice as he continues. “Now tell me about your woes.”

Seungkwan continues, albeit begrudgingly. “Eunbi and Yewonie got engaged. You know my friends from university?”

“Go, lesbians,” Jeonghan says, stopping mid-stroll to check out the different brands of animal crackers. “Good for them.”

“Right,” Seungkwan says. “Anyway, it got me and Hansol talking—or well, I said I wanted to get married someday and all he said was, and this part is a direct quote, ‘oh, really?’”

Seungkwan feels bad saying it out loud, like he’s betraying Hansol. It should be a secret maybe. Like if he speaks the words out loud, he’s going to accidentally summon Hansol or something. As if his boyfriend is actually an urban legend. One day kids will stand in front of a mirror and chant ‘oh, really’ three times, and out will appear Chwe Hansol in all his clueless, beautiful glory. 

“That’s—very Hansolie of him,” Jeonghan says slowly. He settles on a specific bag of animal crackers next to them and squints at the label.

“What does that mean?” Seungkwan asks, unsure if he should even be offended or not. 

“Nothing,” Jeonghan says, waving a hand as if to keep him going. “Then what? I need a redeeming point in this story or my day will be royally ruined. How did Hansol fix it?”

“You are hanging out with Jun hyung too much,” Seungkwan mumbles. “It’s making you dramatic.”

“Moon Junnie is delightful company,” Jeonghan says, a bit arrogant or something. “He’s better than you, most days.”

“And he says I’m the fussy one,” Seungkwan stage whispers to Jiwoo, who laughs around the pacifier Jeonghan is still holding, and Seungkwan takes it as a win, even though she very well has no idea what’s happening. 

Jeonghan drops the bag of animal crackers into the cart, all while expertly glaring at Seungkwan, so he takes it as his cue to keep going.

“But, no, ok. Then we just—didn’t talk about it,” he finishes.

“Hansol did not fix it.” Jeonghan hums, speaking mostly to himself. “And that’s bothering you for obvious reasons.”

“Well, yeah,” Seungkwan confirms, slightly exasperated. “And I don’t know how to bring it up again without seeming all… manic.”

“Manic,” Jeonghan repeats. He clicks his tongue. “You’re not manic, let's clear that up. Manic is Mingyu when Seungcheolie does something like—forget to put the toilet seat down.” Seungkwan stifles a laugh and Jeonghan continues, “You just care a lot.”

“Care more than Hansolie?”

“I didn’t say that,” Jeonghan says carefully. “You and Hansol, as similar as you are, are also very different. I think you approach situations from opposite ends.” 

“And that’s a problem,” Seungkwan concludes. 

“I didn’t say that either.” Jeonghan huffs, directing his next statement at Jiwoo, voice getting all high and cute again. “Is he even listening to me, cutie? Isn’t Seungkwanie so silly sometimes?”

“Can you not shit talk to me to your toddler?”

“We would not dare,” Jeonghan says airly, giving him a shrug. “But honestly? I think the solution here is simple, Kwan-ah. You’re just scaring yourself for no reason. Hansolie is stupid, sure. That doesn’t mean you have to be.” 

“It’s not no reason. And don’t call Hansolie stupid even if he is,” Seungkwan says, defensively, and Jeonghan rolls his eyes, laughing a bit fondly. Seungkwan reaches for the nearest snack and tosses it in the cart, just to give himself something to do. “Marriage is—a major life choice. I can’t come on too strong, he’ll be fucking terrified of me.”

“You always come on too strong, that’s part of your charm, probably.”

“Hey!”

Jeonghan ignores him. “If I can let you in on a little secret, by the way,” he goes on, “things like marriage and major relationship changes are never easy. You are pretty much destined to come on too strong if you have to be the one to bring any of it up. And that goes for anyone, not just you.” 

“That’s not much of a secret,” Seungkwan says, pouting just a little. He loves Jeonghan a lot, thinks he’s a good friend, too, but Jeonghan is also—too wise and too fucking neutral sometimes. Always playing devil’s advocate. He should’ve gone to Mingyu for this. Mingyu always sides with him.

Jeonghan rolls his eyes. Then, tone a bit more serious, “You know, the first time I mentioned Jiwoo to Shua, he didn’t talk to me for like—two days.” 

“What?” Seungkwan feels his eyes get a little wide. Jeonghan never mentioned any of that way back when they started the whole adoption process. Maybe there is hope for him and Hansol after all. “But you guys are like— the couple.” 

“Thank you, I know,” Jeonghan says, a bit pretentious. “I love Joshua. But that doesn’t mean we didn’t have moments when we both—freaked out a little, too. Being a dad is scary, even if it was something we both always wanted. When I brought it up to him, it was like… reading the same book, only he was a few pages behind.”

Seungkwan hums. “How’d he come around?” 

“I spoke to him logically and gave him some time,” Jeonghan says. Then, “To be honest, you’re already better off. At least you brought up the whole marriage thing in a controlled environment. I asked Shua if he was ready to have kids when we were…”

He looks at Jiwoo, who just blinks at him. 

“Enjoying some recreational time.”

“Oh, gross, hyung!” Seungkwan makes a face. “You need to start sharing less of your life with me.”

“Yeah, probably,” Jeonghan admits. “But in any case, you need to get out of your head and just talk to Hansolie. You know he’s not trying to ruin you.”

“I guess,” Seungkwan says, huffing out an acceptance of defeat. “But on the other hand—what if he is scared of commitment? What should I do then?”

“Then I’ll skin him like a fish,” Jeonghan jokes, though it comes out a bit too seriously. “Talk to him first, though. Before I do that.” 

Yoon Jeonghan, the gay oracle. 

* * *

When Seungkwan and Hansol first moved in together two years ago, Seungkwan distinctly remembers Seungcheol making a beeline for their bathroom before turning around to face him with a pitiful look on his face. 

“The shower is too small,” he claimed. “Good luck having sex in there with the shower head digging into your ribcage.”

Seungkwan had petulantly disagreed— “you and Mingyu hyung are just abnormally tall!”— though some weeks later, amid some shower sex, he couldn’t help but think of that moment. 

Because he was right. The shower is small. 

“Fucking—Hansol, ow.” 

Seungkwan frowns, momentarily shoved against the wall as Hansol crowds against him underneath the water because no, they were not having shower sex, but Seungkwan had been out all day, and so Hansol had put them in the shower, under the guise of “babe, I missed you, can’t we do it together just this once?” 

And for some reason, Seungkwan still can’t say no to Hansol, even after all these years. Goddammit. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Hansol apologizes, steadying himself before his hands reach in front of Seungkwan, playing with the knobs that control the water temperature. 

Seungkwan slaps them away, mercilessly. “I had it perfect, don’t fuck with it.”

“You like showers that are unnecessarily cold, though.” 

“Which is another reason why I didn’t want to shower together— ow, that’s my appendix, watch it—but you were the one who had to get his way, so.”

“Because I missed you,” Hansol coos, letting Seungkwan reset the temperature to the admittedly arctic chill it was. “Hanging out with Jeonghannie hyung all day and here I was, all alone—“

“I was grocery shopping with Jeonghannie hyung,” Seungkwan corrects him. “There’s nothing fun about running errands with a Jeonghannie and a baby.”

“Jiwoo is lots of fun, actually. She’s better at conversation than like, I don’t know, Jihoonie hyung.”

“He’d probably agree.” Seungkwan giggles as he turns around to face Hansol, whose bangs are only slightly wet, not yet fully submerged in the water. “Besides, you could’ve come. I’m not the only one that knows how to identify produce in a grocery store.”

“Last time I went, you got mad when I brought home the wrong brand of cookies.” Hansol lets Seungkwan manhandle him to stand under the water, squeezing his eyes shut, although he keeps talking. “It was kind of hot, though. I should make you mad more often.”

“You have no shame, Chwe Hansol.” Seungkwan clicks his tongue. “And I only got mad because you bought a brand that you are quite literally allergic to. You’d die without me.” 

Seungkwan switches them so he can stand under the water instead. Just as Hansol opens his eyes, Seungkwan closes his, the cool water feeling heavenly on his sticky skin. He can see Hansol's smile just before it’s the inside of his eyelids. He’s so cute. 

“I know,” Hansol says proudly. “How is Jeonghannie hyung, anyway?” 

“Usual,” Seungkwan answers, vague. “He asked us to babysit Saturday.”

“And?”

“And yes.”

“Dope.”

Seungkwan backs away from the shower head and more into Hansol’s space, letting Hansol busy himself with a shampoo bottle—the one that smells like oranges that used to be exclusively Seungkwan’s before Hansol started using it, too. Seungkwan will always feel most proud about how he was able to turn Hansol onto real products rather than a three-in-one targeted to straight men. 

“What’d you do today?” Seungkwan asks, trying not to openly coo at how concentrated Hansol looks trying to get all of the shampoo to cover Seungkwan’s head. 

“I saw Wonwoo hyung for like, a second,” Hansol explains. “We got coffee when I had a break with work, but then Channie had texted him about hooking up some stupid streaming service to his TV and he bolted.” 

Seungkwan hums, amused. “Are they still doing that thing?” 

“That thing where Wonu is madly in love with Channie but he has no idea?” Hansol laughs. “Yeah.” 

Seungkwan takes Hansol’s hands away from his hair and then dips his head back under the water to rinse. 

“Aren’t you happy we’re not doing that anymore?” Seungkwan says through a laugh. “The will they, won’t they?”

“Yes,” Hansol answers immediately. “Though I don’t think there was ever much of that. You very much knew what you wanted from the start.” 

“And thank god I did,” Seungkwan says, cracking open an eye from under the water to glare at Hansol. “Would’ve taken you ages to ask me out. I had to make the first move. Now you’re stuck with me.”

“You’re so hot when you’re assertive,” Hansol says, which is a joke, or so Seungkwan is like, pretty sure. 

“Yeah?” Seungkwan quirks a brow. “Your turn then, move it.” 

He switches spots with Hansol again, shampooing Hansol’s hair, much more gently than he had, might Seungkwan add. 

He’s halfway through lathering the orange-colored gel onto his head when Hansol asks, all vague, “Stuck with you forever, by the way?”

Seungkwan feels his stomach lurch oddly. He hums out a sound that resembles a question and focuses on his fingers across Hansol’s scalp. Hansol closes his eyes like he’s really enjoying the sensation, and goddammit, now is not the time to be cute. 

“You said I’m stuck with you,” Hansol says. “You mean forever right?” 

Seungkwan’s mind flashes back to their conversation the other day, the one with Jeonghan earlier today. He and Hansol’s lack of—forever, so to speak. The way he’s been worrying himself thinking that Hansol doesn’t want to marry Seungkwan, doesn’t want the ring, and the promises, and the vows because it’s too much, Seungkwan is too much and—

“Hey.” Hansol is pouting when Seungkwan refocuses on his face, one of his hands dancing along Seungkwan’s ribs. “You’re thinking hard. Why are you thinking hard?”

“I’m not,” Seungkwan lies. “Rinse.” 

He shoves Hansol’s head under the water, who does so willingly, eyes squeezed shut once more. The baby. 

“Did I do something?” He asks, voice getting all weird and cautious, the kind of tone that Seungkwan has always hated, but maybe that’s just because it’s always been a sign that Hansol can stay calm and collected, while Seungkwan otherwise tends to be—more emotional at times. 

“No.”

Hansol really didn’t do anything. Or he did too much, but not in the way Seungkwan wishes. That’s—sort of the problem. 

“I’m just… having one of those days.” Seungkwan bites his bottom lip, thinking. He wants to have this conversation, he really does. But will this make it worse? Will it freak Hansol out even more? “You know how I get.”

Hansol hums, deciding he’s had enough of being pelted with water, and drifts back into Seungkwan’s space. 

“So tell me what’s up,” he says, very sweetly, and it’s terrible. 

“You love me, right?” Seungkwan asks after a minute, voice stupidly timid and shaky and Seungkwan hates it.

“Very much, yeah,” Hansol says immediately. His tone isn’t judging or exaggerated, just—very genuine. “Love you the most.” 

“Right. I mean, I know, I just—I think I’ve been too in my head lately. And I start comparing us to other people. And then I think, well, maybe Hansolie doesn’t actually like me, but likes the idea or something, and doesn’t want—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Hansol looks personally offended now. “Of course, I like you. I love you. Who’s got you thinking I don’t? Tell me. I’ll beat them up.”

“Oh, baby,” Seungkwan coos, “you are so non-confrontational. But thank you for offering.”

 Hansol frowns. “I could be confrontational! For you.” 

“You are a softie, Chwe Hansol,” Seungkwan mumbles, reaching for the body wash and flicking off the cap, pouring some into his hand and just—slapping it to Hansol’s chest. “Sometimes it just feels like so many things are happening around us and people are starting new chapters and stuff and we’re just—here. So I get worried.”

“But we’re still here together,” Hansol points out, brows furrowed a little in confusion. He does a great job at suppressing a chill when Seungkwan purposely flicks over one of his nipples. “Are you saying you’re tired of me or something? I’m confused.”

“No, no, never that,” Seungkwan assures him. He’s usually so much better with his words. Why is this happening to him? “I think what I’m trying to say is that I want to make sure we both know… our end goal.”

Permanent commitment, Seungkwan wants to scream but doesn’t because he’s mature and also doesn’t want to scare Hansol. 

“Oh.” Hansol’s eyes widen, like he gets it then. “For sure. I know what mine is. You.”

“Me,” Seungkwan says, wanting more specifics, but also—wanting to be normal for once. 

“Yeah, you,” Hansol confirms. “You feel?”

Seungkwan doesn’t really, but his head is starting to hurt and his fingers are starting to prune in here. 

“I feel,” Seungkwan says reluctantly. Then, “Turn around,” he says because rubbing scented body wash onto Hansol’s back is much nicer than talking about all this. 

“No funny business back there, Boo Seungkwan,” Hansol jokes, flexing out the muscles of his back to be annoying. Seungkwan takes a handful of his ass to get back at him and giggles when Hansol lets out a tiny hey! in protest. 

“Hey,” Seungkwan returns, a stupid smile on his face when Hansol turns back around. He’s much more serious as he says, “I’m sorry, I think too much sometimes.”

“I’m sorry, too, you don’t deserve it,” Hansol agrees. He presses a sweet kiss to Seungkwan’s lips and Seungkwan wants to melt into it. “But it’s nothing we can’t fix together, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan hums, letting Hansol kiss him again, a little harder this time, pulling away with a small smile before he’s leaning back in, tongue slipping into his mouth first followed by the hungry chase of lips. 

“We are not doing this here, Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says into his mouth, pinching at Hansol’s side, which has the desired effect, Hansol backing away with a yelp, like a dejected puppy. “It is way too tight.”

“But I’m usually very good at fitting things in tight places,” Hansol says, giving him a cheeky smile that makes Seungkwan roll his eyes. One of Hansol’s hands reaches around to try and squeeze Seungkwan’s ass, but he catches it before he can. 

“That was so nasty of you, Chwe Hansol.” Seungkwan stifles a laugh, deciding on pouring the body wash into his own hands for himself, handing Hansol the bottle instead to busy his hands elsewhere. 

“You bring out the best in me, Boo, what can I say?” Hansol jokes, eyeing the way Seungkwan’s hands roam his body. “Besides, you love me, no matter what.”

Seungkwan scoffs. “And you’re lucky because of that.” 

“I am,” Hansol agrees confidently. He kisses him one more time. “Best feeling in the world.”

Seungkwan thinks he means that.

* * * 

In the past seven years that Hansol and Seungkwan have been dating, Seungkwan can count on one hand how often they’ve been apart from each other. School breaks back from their days in university, family trips before Seungkwan was allowed to drag Hansol along, and most recently, two months ago, when Hansol visited the States for a family thing, and Seungkwan’s boss had absolutely refused any time off for him to join. The fucker. 

It was fine in the end. Seungkwan says this only because of the mind-blowing, reunion sex that was had when Hansol returned a week later; Seungkwan came twice, couldn’t really walk the next day, but still sometimes Seungkwan looks back on it and shudders, the good kind of shudder. 

Then sometimes he looks back on it and feels—duped. 

He says this only because it was then, after two orgasms had been rung out of him and he was exhausted, a little delirious, and very happy to have Hansol back, that Hansol had said—

“You're so hot, fuck, I wanna do everything to you. I wanna do everything with you. Like, let you tie me up and stuff but also—adopt a cat with you or something.”

“Two extremes, Hansol-ah.”

“But would you do it?”

“Which one?”

“Either.”

And that’s where Seungkwan messed up and said, “Yes.”

The cat currently on Hansol’s phone screen in front of him is tiny, with unruly, gray fur that sticks out behind its ears and is even missing one of its eyes. It looks like it was the runt of its litter. Admittedly, it’s precious. 

“Look at her,” Hansol says, tilting the phone a little more so Seungkwan can see better. “She’s adorable.”

“I’ve been looking,” Seungkwan reminds him, pinching at the skin of Hansol’s elbow, however sitting up a little straighter in the bed, escaping the mound of pillows he was previously trapped in. He laughs a little when his eyes drift over to the cat’s bio. “‘You should see the other guy,’” he reads.

“It also says she likes napping and is good with kids,” Hansol adds. “I love napping and you love kids. See? She’s perfect for us.”

“We don’t have kids.”

“We have Jiwoo. And your nieces and nephews.”

“You trying to win me over with the kid's aspect?” Seungkwan raises an eyebrow. 

“Is it working?” 

“Maybe.” Seungkwan stifles a laugh, burrowing back into his mound of pillows, shifting more so he can smush his cheek against Hansol’s shoulder this time. “What’s with the sudden need for a cat, though, huh? You’ve been looking at sites more than usual. Trying to replace me?”

Seungkwan is kidding about the last part. Kind of. He forces out a laugh as Hansol locks his phone, tossing it to the side. Seungkwan will scold him later when they accidentally kick it off the bed; he already knows.

“Never,” Hansol says easily, rolling over onto his side, pushing Seungkwan flat on his back as he leans over him. “I think it’d be nice to have something, though. For us.”

Seungkwan hums, settling his arms around Hansol’s neck, one of his hands massaging at the muscles there. 

“I’ve just been thinking, y’know,” Hansol goes on, eyes shifting around a little in the way they do when he gets embarrassed. Seungkwan bites back a smile, using one hand to come around to his cheek, thumbing at the skin there, stupidly fond. “About what you were saying the other day? About like—the future and us.”

“Oh?” 

Seungkwan honestly hadn’t expected Hansol to do much thinking of it at all. Not like Hansol isn’t thoughtful, or a good listener, because he is both those things, maybe more so than Seungkwan sometimes, but Seungkwan is also still—projecting his insecurities onto him and just thought it’d be in one ear and out the other. Maybe he’s been too caught up in his head that he hasn’t noticed Hansol is trying to get them something together, something to work on together, because like, well, maybe a ring is a lot right now. Or something.

Now he feels bad about it.

“Yeah,” Hansol says, letting Seungkwan meet him halfway as he leans down to connect their lips, chastely. They’re still close, lips brushing against each other as he goes on, “wanna raise a cat with you.”

“Joint custody over a rescue kitten,” Seungkwan muses after another kiss. “Just what I’ve always dreamt of.”

“You’d be such a good cat dad.”

“If you wanted to call me ‘daddy,’ all you had to do was ask, pretty boy,” Seungkwan jokes, laughing into another kiss, which Hansol groans at.

“Please don’t be joking.”

“Keep dreaming, Chwe Hansol.” 

Seungkwan cackles, shoving at one of Hansol’s shoulders, not at all surprised when he doesn’t budge from his space. Hansol laughs a little, slipping one of his hands under the hem of Seungkwan’s tee, fingertips cold. Seungkwan doesn’t mind the feeling either way.

“So what do you think? One-eyed cat? You and me?” 

“That’s a big commitment, Hansol-ssi,” Seungkwan tells him, pushing down the nerves in his stomach as he does. There are other big commitments they could make. Seungkwan doesn’t bring them up; this is ok for now, too. They can go at their own pace. He’s like, pretty sure. 

“Worth it with you.”

“You’re such a charmer.” Seungkwan scoffs, rolling his eyes. “Stupid, endearing, handsome—”

“That’s a yes then?” 

“I didn’t even say anyth—”

“But daddy—”

“I’m going to smother you in your sleep.”

“Dope,” Hansol says, completely casual. Then, more seriously, “If you’re not ready, we don’t have to do anything. I’m being stupid, mostly. Though I think you really would be a good cat dad.”

“Sweet boy,” Seungkwan mumbles, squishing Hansol’s face between his hands. He’s a little too bony for it, jaw too structured, but he’s cute nonetheless. “Fine. I’ll raise a cat with you.”

“Really?” Hansol asks through squished cheeks, to which Seungkwan kisses him again. “This is the best day of my life. I love you. You’re amazing.”

“I hope you think that highly of me always,” Seungkwan teases, pushing at Hansol’s shoulders to flip them this time, Hansol going easily onto his back. 

“Of course,” Hansol says, absolutely sincere. “Always.”

“Good,” Seungkwan says, sitting up with a tiny pop to the bones in his back. Then because he wants to and he can, “I’m gonna suck you off now.”

“This is the best day of my life,” Hansol repeats, a bit more enthusiastically, letting Seungkwan position himself between his legs. “I love you and you’re amazing.”

Seungkwan should probably be more careful about what he agrees to post-orgasm in the future. For now, at least Hansol is happy. 

* * *

The landlord clears them for the cat, even though Seungkwan had already been positive he would. 

This was a detail he had taken care of when they first were looking for places to move in. Hansol has always wanted a cat, something Seungkwan was very much aware of. He took it into account when apartment hunting— pet friendly, he had always made sure to include it in his search. 

And it hits him then, while he’s sitting in front of his laptop, zoom meeting open for work—no camera needed, thank god—and the tiny email window pulled up in the corner, confirming they were good to go with the adoption.  

Seungkwan is always, always, doing the work. 

This is typically fine. He can get a bit controlling at times, and Hansol is much better at being a passenger in situations that require someone to take charge. Seungkwan can admit this. He knew that much before he even started dating Hansol. 

But Seungkwan has taken control of—every decision they’ve ever made. 

Asking Hansol to go out with him. Kissing Hansol first. Bringing Hansol to meet his friends first. Moving in together. And now—marriage, which apparently, is something Hansol has never even thought about. 

Seungkwan is all for living in the moment, but Hansol is living in the millisecond. Has he always been this way? Should Seungkwan even be bothered? Is he allowed to be? Does Hansol even realize this cat is the only big decision he’s made in their entire relationship?

Does Hansol even care?

* * *

“Am I doing too much?” 

“In general?” Joshua asks.

He’s a bit preoccupied from where he’s trying to shove a bunch of napkins into the collar of Jiwoo’s shirt, a makeshift bib as she dives into the ice cream cone he had just bought her. Jeonghan sits on the other side of her, just watching, a stupidly fond smile on his face that Seungkwan can’t hate at all. It’s cute, admittedly. 

“In general, yes,” Joshua says despite the lack of clarification. “You’re always doing too much.”

“Fuck you.”

“Don’t swear in front of my baby,” Jeonghan says, only a mild threat. “Or I’ll remove your vocal cords.”

“As if you don’t curse around her all the time.” Seungkwan huffs, exasperated. “What’s wrong with you?” 

“Such a good question,” Joshua muses, voice switching to a much lighter tone as he makes eye contact with Jiwoo. “Right, baby? What’s wrong with daddy?”

Jiwoo points to Jeonghan as if she gets it, letting him take a bite of the ice cream she’s holding, all while Joshua gives her a validating head pat, before turning back to Seungkwan.

“Elaborate on doing too much, please,” he says. There’s a tiny please from next to him, Jiwoo mimicking him since she’s at that age, and Seungkwan now feels more opt to share his latest woes since at least someone here asked so cutely. 

“With Hansol,” he says, albeit a bit reluctantly. “Do I cut him too much slack? Do I take our relationship more seriously than he does? Should I lobotomize myself?”

“Yes, maybe, I know a guy,” Jeonghan says with a shrug. When Seungkwan just stares at him, he breaks, rolling his eyes. “Kidding.”

“Jokes are usually funny, hyung.”

“Not mine,” Jeonghan says dryly. “But what’s gotten into you lately? You and Hansol have been together for years and only now you’re suddenly second-guessing everything. Didn’t I tell you to just talk to him?”

“I did,” Seungkwan says defensively. “Or I tried. Hansol is a lot more dense than I thought.”

“I could’ve told you that,” Joshua says with a laugh, which Seungkwan takes personally. 

“Only I’m allowed to call him that,” Seungkwan says, folding his arms over his chest. “Jeonghannie hyung, curb your husband.”

Joshua laughs again, smiling very sweetly at Seungkwan as he says, “Bite me, Seungkwan-ah.”

“Shua-yah, be nice, he’s in crisis,” Jeonghan says, probably only half sincere, because Jeonghan is always a little evil, too. He gestures down at Jiwoo then, nudging Joshua to grab his attention. “Ice cream is dripping.” 

“She’s your kid, too, Yoon Jeonghan,” Joshua mumbles, however swooping in with more napkins before any catastrophic damage can be done to the pair of overalls Jiwoo has on. Seungkwan pretends he doesn’t see the weird way Jeonghan’s eyes light up watching Joshua skillfully take care of Jiwoo. He is incurable. 

“Anyway,” Seungkwan pointedly says with a sigh, slumping back as he looks up to the sky like he’s supposed to find enlightenment there or something. He squints, the sun blinding him instead. “I just started to feel like I’m the only one of us who’s taking any of this seriously.” 

Jeonghan hums, thinking. “And you told him that? Because you’re smart and a good listener and have been taking my advice the entire time?”

“Do not guilt trip me, hyung, I can’t handle that right now,” Seungkwan says. “Besides, I wanted an outsider’s perspective. How about you guys, what’s your secret?”

“Chastity,” Jeonghan says, at the same time Joshua stupidly responds with, “A deal with the devil.”

“Great,” Seungkwan says. He forgot who he was talking to for a minute. He should've gone to Minghao and Seokmin. “You know we’re getting a cat?”

“You and Hansol?” Joshua asks. 

“No,” Jeonghan answers for him. “Seungkwan and I are getting the cat. Did we not tell you, darling?”

Joshua rolls his eyes, doing his best to hide the stupid smile on his face. He continues, “Hansolie is probably excited. A cat could be good.”

“He is excited,” Seungkwan confirms. “He said he wanted to take the step after I talked to him about our future.” He lets out a pathetic laugh. “Funny, right? That I meant buying a ring and setting up a joint bank account together and he took that as let me raise a one-eyed cat with you.”

“Why’s it have one eye?” Joshua frowns.

“You should see the other guy,” is all Seungkwan says, and Joshua nods, like that seriously explains anything. 

“It could be a step in the right direction, though,” Jeonghan suggests. He reaches for one of the napkins Joshua is hoarding and wipes the ice cream that has accumulated on Jiwoo’s cheeks, and Seungkwan feels a tiny pang of jealousy. 

Here Jeonghan is, with a family and a life and everything he wanted, trying to tell Seungkwan that his one-eyed cat and his boyfriend who is newly afraid of indefinite commitment is a step in the right direction. Woe is Seungkwan. 

“I think what you need to do is be direct,” he goes on. “Bothered that you’re always taking charge? Tell Hansol. Annoyed that he’s not trying to go ring shopping with you? Tell him. At this point, the only person getting in your way is you, Kwan-ah.”

Seungkwan blinks. Unfortunately, he’s just been served another horrifyingly accurate read by Yoon Jeonghan. Why does he keep hanging out with him again?

“You know we love you, Seungkwan,” Joshua says a bit more gently. “And we love Hansolie, too. He means well. Talk to him. You know he loves you just as much.”

“I know,” Seungkwan says, an admittance of defeat. “Fine. I will.”

Except he doesn’t know how to anymore. Boo Seungkwan’s insecurities: one; talking it over zero. 

* * *

Minghao’s ring suits him perfectly. 

It’s almost a little surreal after having seen it inside the velvet box Seokmin had been carrying for months, for it to finally be on Minghao’s finger. It feels like an exhale. And Seungkwan wasn’t even the one who proposed to him. He can’t even imagine how Seokmin must feel.

“I feel like I could get hit by a car and still come out on top,” Seokmin says, completely sincere. He takes a long sip of his beer, the one that he bought everyone in a celebratory round. A night out was necessary for when they had all heard that Seokmin finally popped the question; he had been agonizing over this for months. They all deserved a drink after this. 

“Oh, wow,” Hansol marvels. “That’s like, a lot.” 

“You wouldn’t get it, Chwe Hansol,” Seokmin says defensively. “Nothing could ruin my mood right now.”

“Please don’t go get hit by a car,” Minghao says carefully. “I’m trying to marry you here.”

“I’m so excited for you guys,” Mingyu says, inserting himself between where the newly engaged couple are glued to each other, wrapping an arm over each of their shoulders. He pulls them into a tight hug, one that neither of them looks too thrilled about, but accepts graciously nonetheless. “Now which one of you is going to make me the best man?”

“Baby steps, Mingyu-yah,” Minghao says, patting his chest as he backs away from him. “It hasn’t even been two days.”

“This should’ve been something you’ve been thinking of,” Mingyu says, a tiny pout on his lips as he does. “How could you even imagine your wedding day without me directly involved?”

“Very easily, probably,” Wonwoo says, which earns a hearty giggle from Chan that he looks extremely proud of. 

“I’ll remember that,” Mingyu says ominously before he’s brought away from the couple back into Seungcheol’s space, who gives him a half-hearted pat on the back. 

“So how’d it happen?” Soonyoung asks, leaning forward on the table they’ve gathered around, nearly knocking over the tiny bowl of snacks there as he does. Jihoon moves them wordlessly, pushing them over by Hansol who digs right in. “I was dying for more details other than the text that just said ‘fuck you, bitches,’ with a picture of the ring on Myungho’s hand.”

“I didn’t even know it was Myungho,” Junhui says. “Thought Seokminie was live texting one of his reality shows again.”

“Singles Inferno is on a break until the fall,” Joshua tells him matter-of-factly, taking a leisurely sip of his beer as he does. 

Jihoon shrugs, gesturing to Junhui as if he’s agreeing. “To be fair, I don’t think any of us thought the engagement would be happening so soon.”

“Hey!” Seokmin frowns, quickly placated by Minghao gently patting his cheek. 

“It was cute,” Minghao starts to explain. “We had gone out to where we had our first date—”

“—the place by university with the really good spaghetti—”

“—right, and then we went back to the apartment before I decided I wanted some ice cream—”

“—so I hid the ring in the pocket of his coat where his keys were and got him,” Seokmin finishes excitedly. “He was so fucking confused when he turned around to see if I had any idea of what the box was and then I was on one knee.”

“That’s so cute,” Soonyoung coos. “I wanna eat good spaghetti and then get a nice ring.”

“Did you cry?” Jeonghan asks, an evil grin on his face as he does. 

“No?” Minghao scoffs. “Why would I—”

“I cried,” Seokmin admits easily. “It was so nice when he said yes.”

“As if I wouldn’t have?” Minghao asks, somewhat offended.

“Not everything in life is certain, Myungho hyung,” Chan says, just to be annoying, but Seokmin agrees enthusiastically, gesturing in his direction. 

“You people are so—”

“Who wants another round?” Seungcheol interrupts then, clapping Minghao hard on the back. “I’ll buy; I’m feeling generous and especially happy that I no longer have to listen to Seokminie practice the tone of his voice when asking ‘will you marry me?’ That was an excruciating few weeks.”

“Exactly why I stopped going to the gym with him,” Seungkwan teases with a laugh, earning a very affronted look from Seokmin, to which he just smiles at. “I love you, Lee Seokmin.”

“I don’t care.”

Junhui and Wonwoo are summoned to help gather the drinks then, followed by a whiny Mingyu because why do you not trust me to carry the drinks, too?, leaving the rest of them to catch more wedding-related details, which Soonyoung collects and suggests ideas diligently like he hasn’t been single for years now or something. 

“Another wedding to officially add to our list,” Seungkwan says, turning to Hansol who immediately fixes his attention from the group solely to Seungkwan. “We should’ve bet on it.”

Hansol hums before laughing a little through a sip of beer. “Who would’ve thought Seokminie would be next? Honestly, I was more convinced Channie and Wonu hyung would confess to each other before Seokmin hyung finally popped the question.”

“Oh, Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says, patronizing, “you have way too much hope in our friends.”

“It’s called being an optimist.”

“Better luck next time then,” Seungkwan says, patting his cheek. “Should we bet on Wonwoo hyung and Chan? Make a little money.”

“Or the winner gets a blowjob,” Hansol suggests. “Way better than a few hundred won.” 

“Happens enough that it's not too special anymore.”

Hansol gasps, hand over his heart like he’s been wounded. “Not special? Seungkwan-ah, I cherish every single blowjob you give me.”

“And they say romance is dead.” Seungkwan rolls his eyes. Then, maybe in a moment of braveness or just a lack of awareness, Seungkwan continues—

“The fact that we’re betting on Wonwoo and Channie before us is telling.”

Hansol freezes. Did Seungkwan say that out loud? Does he sound as bitter in real life as he does to his own ears? Why did he do that?

“What does that mean?” Hansol asks, voice a little uncertain. His eyes look worried, eyebrows furrowed just the slightest. Seungkwan feels—weirdly sick, all of a sudden.

“Oh,” he starts, frantically trying to make it less serious than it is, “I just meant it like—we probably won’t be getting married. Any time soon. Even though we’ve been together for—well! Longer than Wonu and Chan, who are… not—together?”

He laughs, nervous. Swallows hard around nothing and then decides to reach for his beer, downing whatever’s left in the bottle. It’s warm and tastes terrible, but it’s all Seungkwan has at the moment. Hansol still looks confused.

“But you said—” he starts, stops. “You don’t want to get married.”

Seungkwan doesn’t know if that’s a joke or not. Is he trying to gaslight him? Is he being serious? Seungkwan feels—angry, all of a sudden. Why are they having this conversation here, now? He glances out the corner of his eye and sees Jeonghan, eyeing him. He turns away when Seungkwan catches him, turning toward Joshua instead. Seungkwan gets unreasonably angrier. 

“When did I—?” Seungkwan stops himself. “You know what? Forget it, Hansol. I didn’t—I wasn’t trying to start anything.”

“Start anything?” Hansol raises an eyebrow. “But I was just—”

“Woah,” Seungcheol interrupts, placing the refills on the quickly crowded table, “trouble in paradise? What’s up Kwan-ah? Hansol?”

Hansol stiffens, reaching for one of the beers Wonwoo has just put down. 

“Nothing,” Seungkwan says, though the way he steps a decent amount of distance away from Hansol says otherwise. “We’re fine.”

“You sound like Mingyu and Cheol,” Junhui says with a little chuckle, not meaning any harm, but Seungkwan is annoyed, and fragile, and doesn’t want to deal with any of it. 

“Do you mind—” Mingyu starts with a huff, his argument getting lost under the sound of Seungcheol arguing, and then the attention is turned towards them, and Seungkwan can sulk privately, reaching for a drink and downing it with a newfound sense of purpose.

Seungkwan does not talk to Hansol for the rest of the night.

* * *

Seungkwan lies in bed later, staring up at the ceiling, replaying the events of the night. 

He needs to talk to Hansol, he knows that, but he’s also mad, kind of furious, actually, and the worst part is, that he can’t tell if it’s his fault or not. Are he and Hansol that drastically on different pages? Should he have been more explicit on what he wanted from the start? Should Hansol have?

Seungkwan feels sick again. He’s upset, just kind of wants a hug or something, but then he remembers it’s Hansol who made him feel this way and also Hansol who he wants a hug from, and then he just feels entirely worse. He turns over in bed, heaving out a sigh when he’s met with the photo of him and Hansol framed there. 

They look happy. It was Hansol’s birthday two years ago. Seungkwan misses when things were simpler then; when not every person in their life was forcing the expectation of marriage onto them.

Behind him, Seungkwan hears the door crack open— Hansol. 

He doesn’t turn around; instead just buries himself deeper into the comforter and holds his breath, like maybe if he’s still enough Hansol will forget he’s there and they don’t have to talk about all this right now. 

He’s a coward, probably.

Wordlessly, Hansol slips onto his side of the bed, and Seungkwan can feel him trying to settle into a comfortable position, a task that is quickly abandoned once Hansol scoots a little closer to where Seungkwan is curled in on himself.

“You’re mad,” is all he says.

Seungkwan huffs, finally turning over. He’s frowning, expression matching Hansol’s near perfectly. “What gave you that idea?” 

“Let’s talk, Seungkwan-ah,” Hansol says. His tone is even, not nearly as hostile as Seungkwan’s is bordering on. He props his head up in his hand and blinks once, twice. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Seungkwan scoffs, just a little. He’s not trying to make it worse, he just—why can’t Hansol see the problem? They’re not even on two different pages anymore. Seungkwan thinks Hansol is on an entirely different chapter. 

“You tell me, Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says slowly. He feels vulnerable all of a sudden, his body lying flat against the pillows. He sits up, back resting against the headboard. “Besides you picking a fight in front of our friends—”

“I wasn’t picking a fight,” Hansol says, and he still sounds as calm as ever, but Seungkwan can tell he’s getting annoyed. It’s in the little things; like the subtle twitch in his lip or the raise of his eyebrows. It’s not often that he and Hansol fight, but when they do, it’s usually a sizable argument. And Seungkwan knows Hansol's debate tactics well. “I was just—stating something.”

“Something that—that you thought?” Seungkwan is doing his best to keep his voice at a normal volume, a normal infliction. He is not as good at keeping his composure in disagreements. He doesn’t necessarily want to yell at Hansol, though, especially not now, at this ungodly hour of the night. “You said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Because you don’t?”

“There you go again!” Seungkwan laughs, but it’s not funny. “Why would you say that? Why would you think for even a second that I don’t want to spend forever with you?”

“Because you—” Hansol starts, then stops. 

He sits up more, legs folding into a neat pretzel underneath him. He’s wearing one of Seungkwan’s oversized shirts, fitting across his shoulders just a little tighter than it would Seungkwan. Seungkwan pries his eyes away, doing his best not to succumb to Chwe Hansol and his admittedly broad shoulders. 

“I’m lost,” Hansol admits. “I didn’t mean to upset you.” 

“Hansol-ah,” Seungkwan says, huffing out another sigh. “You know I’m in love with you.”

“I would hope so,” Hansol says, expression softer, maybe a little confused, maybe even scared. Seungkwan feels like he’s been punched in the gut. 

“I am,” Seungkwan insists. He fixes his tone to something more civil. “Very much.”

“Ok,” Hansol says with a nod, “good.”

Seungkwan isn’t sure where to start, so that’s why he’s starting here. What does he even say? How does he say it without sounding—obsessive?

“And I wanna love you forever,” he continues. Hansol nods again, patient. He is always so much more patient than Seungkwan. “That’s why I—the other day I asked you about… getting married one day.”

“Right,” Hansol says. Seungkwan can see the way he swallows, nervous. 

“But when I said it, it seemed like—you didn’t want it.” Seungkwan looks down, pulling at a cuticle. “And then I tried to bring it up again, like, us and our future, and you just—you mentioned the cat and I thought, I’m fucked, you want a cat, not a ring, and I can’t fault you for that, but I’m scared we’re not on the same page, and now— now, you’re—you keep saying I don’t want it. But that’s not me who thinks that, Hansol-ah, that’s you.” 

Hansol looks like a deer caught in headlights. His face is confused now, genuinely, really confused. 

“What?” He blinks. “Why would you—Seungkwan-ah, I wanna marry you. Why would you say I don’t?”

“Because you were all—weird about it the other day! After Yeowonie and Eunbi.” Seungkwan sniffs. He’s not crying, but he wants to. He feels—weirdly stupid. Even though Hansol would never make him feel that way, not intentionally. “You said ‘oh, really,’ and then when I tried talking about it—multiple times—you brushed over it. You said let’s finally get a cat. You want to replace me with a fucking cat.”

He lets out a choked laugh, suddenly aware of the wetness on his cheek, and oh, now he’s crying. Not a lot, but it’s there. He sucks in a breath and prays no more tears threaten to slip out. This is humiliating. 

“Oh, no,” Hansol says, mouth falling open in a little o-shape. “Oh, no, oh, baby.” 

He reaches forward, a hand immediately trying to wipe at Seungkwan’s cheek, but Hansol’s hands have always been less coordinated and tender than Seungkwan’s for things like this, so instead he’s met with a tense thumb wiping down the side of his face, and it shouldn’t be comforting at all, but to Seungkwan, it feels like home. 

“This is all my fault,” Hansol says, mostly to himself, flipping his hand around so his knuckles knock against Seungkwan’s cheekbone. “I’m sorry, Boo, I am so, so sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry, we’re at different stages in our—”

“I wanna marry you. I wanna marry you so hard. I want you to—” he stops himself. His eyes get all wide. “You don’t remember, do you?”

“What?” Seungkwan blinks. He sniffs again. “What are you talking about, Hansol?”

“After your sister's wedding,” he says, “we came back, and we had already been to like, a million wedding things then, and you said—you made me promise, actually, that we weren’t gonna get married.”

It comes back to Seungkwan then, in champagne-induced flashes. Hansol tugging off his shoes. Seungkwan holding him to a pinky promise. Oh, god.

“And you—Hansol!” Seungkwan wants to turn over and die. “Why would you keep that promise? Why wouldn’t you say anything—”

“I had mentioned it a few times after that,” Hansol says carefully. “I would try and bring up a wedding, or an engagement, and every time, you said ‘if it’s not happening tomorrow, don’t say it.’ So I just—gave up. I thought you didn’t want that anymore!”

“Chwe Hansol—”

“That’s why I mentioned the cat,” Hansol says pathetically. “I was cat trapping you. Like some people baby trap. I thought the cat was the next best thing.”

“But when you said ‘oh, really—’”

“In a moment of weakness,” Hansol starts, “I thought you were maybe trying to tell me you wanted to get married, but not to me. Which… saying it out loud sounds stupid, but—”

“It is stupid,” Seungkwan says firmly. He wants to strangle Hansol. He also wants to kiss him all over and give him a thousand apologies, all while locking himself somewhere far away, far from Hansol because he does not deserve him, and Seungkwan is most likely the worst person alive. “Oh, my god, I was being so stupid. I’m so sorry. Hansol, honey, lovely, I am the worst—”

“It’s ok,” Hansol says, shaking his head. “We’re both the worst.”

“No, me,” Seungkwan insists. “I tried talking to you, but I just—I can be a lot, and I know that, and I thought I was being clear, but I only made it worse.”

“You’re never a lot,” Hansol says, so sure of himself. “Or you are, but that’s why I like you so much. That’s why I love you.”

“Stop that,” Seungkwan says. He reaches out for Hansol, hands landing on either side of his face and he squeezes. “You’re so good. I am so sorry, I am so—”

“Stop apologizing,” Hansol chastises, taking Seungkwan’s hands in his own. He’s warm and soft and everything Seungkwan loves. “Just tell me you wanna marry me.”

“I do,” Seungkwan says, absolute. “I so do.”

Hansol smiles, leaning forward, their noses knocking together before their lips do, a sweet kiss, one that Seungkwan wants to last forever. It’s warm like Hansol is warm, and it grounds him, brings Seungkwan back down from his idiotic, unwarranted rage, makes him forget about it—about their poor excuse for communication, and the misunderstanding, and the way Jeonghan is probably going to roast him alive once he comes clean about this whole thing to him. 

“I’m sorry I’m stupid,” Hansol says against his lips, and Seungkwan groans, annoyed, pushing Hansol back so he can slip into his lap, Hansol’s hands immediately going to his thighs, squeezing lightly. 

“You are the farthest thing,” Seungkwan says back. He slips his tongue into Hansol’s mouth. “God, I hate myself.”

“Don’t,” Hansol says, hand slipping around to his ass. He flops onto his back and Seungkwan leans down, desperate to connect their lips again. “I love you.”

“I know,” Seungkwan says. Another kiss. Another grab of his ass. “Thank god you do.”

“You and me forever, Seungkwan-ah,” Hansol says, breathless, as Seungkwan’s lips trail down his neck, open-mouthed and hot. “But I still want that cat.”

Seungkwan sits straight up, eyes narrow. “Are you still cat-trapping me?”

“Maybe,” Hansol says, grinning. He flips them over, taking Seungkwan’s hands in his own. “I told you, you’d be a good cat dad.”

“Chwe Hansol—”

“No more talking.” Hansol presses another kiss to his mouth. “There are better things we could be doing with our mouths, daddy.”

Seungkwan is stupid, but Hansol is stupider. Maybe that’s why they work so well together. Forever. 

* * *

(They get the cat, fall in love some more, and never make the same stupid mistakes that they previously had again. They know they’re each other’s forever. Both of them.

What Seungkwan doesn’t know is that Hansol’s had a ring for him for a while now. They’ll get there soon, though.

Together.)