Here, With You

by Moonsprawl

Summary:

Yet, there was still a bittersweet tang in his mouth, knowing how much Suho had lost. And Sieun could feel the weight of it in moments like this, when the conversation spun around shared history, leaving Suho teetering just on the outside.

Suho and Sieun. Life in drabbles.

Notes:

Forgive grammatical errors. English is hard.

Chapter 1

 

Sieun was not alone anymore. He had his own  group of people. Small,  but a circle who he could be himself with, nontheless. They had grown close enough to fill his apartment living room on Saturday evenings, when his dad was not at home. Close enough for him to trade two hours of study time for shared snacks and easy conversation. He’d never admit it out loud, but he liked the comfort these little gatherings brought.

Baku waved his arms wildly, cracking a joke that brought the whole room hollering with laughter. Gotak had smacked Baku’s arm, telling him how stupid that joke actually was and Baku’s yelp had sent everyone else into another fit of giggles. Sieun was used to all of this — the kind of easy banter only people who’d known each other for years could pull off. Sometimes it was almost background noise to him in all its familiarity.

His gaze slid toward Suho who only gave out a small chuckle. It was polite, almost automatic, fading into a small smile. His eyes lingered on the floor for a moment before drifting back to the group. His shoulders were slightly drawn, as if cowering and unsure if he belonged.

The others didn’t notice. But Sieun always did.

The sound of the room dulled in his head, laughter thinning into a distant hum. Forty days. That was all the time he’d had with Suho before life played its cruel joke, stealing the days, months, and years they should have shared. These years taken from Suho, Sieun had spent with Baku, Gotak, and Juntae.  Despite the circumstances that had brought them together, he was grateful for hem. And right now, he was genuinely happy. He had his friends and Suho was awake.  Yet, there was still a bittersweet tang in his mouth, knowing how much Suho had lost. And Sieun could feel the weight of it in moments like this, when the conversation spun around shared history, leaving Suho teetering just on the edge of outside.

Sieun didn’t speak. He didn’t need to.

Instead, he shifted closer, the couch giving a soft whine when he lifted his weight. He moved slow enough to keep it unnoticed, until his shoulder pressed lightly against Suho’s arm. The contact was steady and warm through the sleeves of their shirt. Their knees bumped once, and when neither of them moved away, they stayed pressed together. Sieun slid his hand along the couch until their pinkies touched. The brush of skin was so light Suho could decide it was accidental.

But Sieun had done it deliberately. It was his way of saying he was here with Suho. That the missing years didn’t make him an outsider. That he wasn’t alone.

Suho didn’t look at him. But Sieun felt the difference. His shoulders had eased, and his breath no longer caught. It was a shift so subtle, almost invisible but SIeun caught it all the same. Because Sieun always noticed when it came to Suho. It was as if they were drawn together and pulled by an invisible string — tethered — holding them close even when no words were spoken.

Sieun kept his pinky finger there, feeling the heat radiating from Suho. His Suho — alive and well and here with him.

They’d had forty days to know each other and two years stolen. But they now had forever to fill.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Because some mornings, Sieun realized, home wasn’t a place.

Home was Ahn Suho.

Suho and Sieun. Life in drabbles

The smell of butter and syrup pervaded the whole apartment in a homey atmosphere, wrapping around him like a warm blanket. Sieun, hair mussed and still with sleep muddled brain, shuffled into the kitchen quietly. He blinked the tiredness away, eyes heavy from the late night cram session he had barely survived. Finals were finally over, yet his body still felt like it was running on empty.

He could hear soft humming from the kitchen — some familiar modern song, one that he had heard blasting on the television sometime ago.  Suho was already at the stove, pancakes sizzling softly under his practiced hands . Sieun leaned on the doorframe, observing Suho quietly as he continued to hum and flip pancakes. The early morning sunlight bled through the small spaces in between the curtains, catching the edge of Suho’s jaw — sharp and defined. For a moment, Sieun’s attention lingered there, his eyes tracing the lines, marveling how something so small of a detail, so subtle, could make Suho so strikingly beautiful.

As Suho shifted slightly to reach for a plate, he noticed a faint shadow along his jawline. A small imperfection against his smooth skin. And for some reason, SIeun couldn’t help but stare some more. The first time they had met, their faces had been clean, unmarred. He imagined brushing a finger along that the soft scruff, to feel the evidence of Suho leaving boyhood behind, to carve into his memory the imperceptible marker of adulthood that has etched into Suho’s skin. It wasn’t just facial hair but a record of years they had spent side by side. In that small intimate thought, Sieun could feel warmth settle in his chest.

He was pulled out of his thoughts when Suho turned around, spatula in hand and surprise coloring his face. There was flour on his nose. Cute.

“Morning sleepy head,” Suho greeted him, perfect rows of white teeth showing as he grinned brightly.  Despite the bags under his eyes and the slump of exhaustion in his shoulders, he moved with steady precision, setting the table for their breakfast.

“Morning…” Sieun’s voice cracked slightly. He rubbed at his eyes and sank onto the chair, watching Suho arrange plates. “You didn’t have to do this. I mean, it’s too early. You came in late last night, didn’t you?”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head Sieun-ah. I had enough sleep.”, Suho shrugged lightly as he sat opposite him. “Besides…you can’t cook for your life, and I can’t have you getting convenience store food for breakfast.” He shook his head, frowning, as if the mere thought of Sieun gobbling down tuna mayo kimbap in the morning offended him in astronomical proportions.

Sieun blinked. It was such a simple, matter-of-fact action but Sieun felt the warmth in his chest flare, spreading out, swimming down to the tips of his fingers and toes. He knew how late Suho got home, how little sleep he managed with three jobs stacked back-to-back. And still, here he was, making pancakes, like he always did.

“I appreciate it,” Sieun said softly, voice low enough, almost a whisper. “Really.”

Suho glanced at him, expression unreadable for a moment, then the corner of his mouth quirked up ever so slightly.  “Don’t worry about it, okay? Hyung will take care of you!”

Sieun picked up his fork and took a careful bite of the pancake — so fluffy and soft, it could melt in his mouth.

Suho poured some maple syrup over Sieun’s pancakes and placed a cup of steaming hot coffee beside his plate— black with no sugar as he always preferred. He didn’t hover nor did he fuss around him but Sieun could feel the quiet, steady care in every move Suho made.   

He paused mid-bite, suddenly aware of just how much this meant. Here was someone who gave everything. His time, energy, care. Wthout complaint — not even when he was tired, not even when life made him drag through the hours. Suho did it quietly, without expectation, just because he wanted to. For Sieun.

Sieun’s chest tightened. Quietly, almost without realizing it, he reached out and brushed a stray crumb off Suho’s wrist. A touch so small, so casual, it could mean nothing. But that touch lingered in the air, an acknowledgement of some sort. It was Sieun telling Suho that he sees him. He notices him. He was grateful for Suho’s existence. 

In that warm kitchen, with pancakes on the plate and sunlight spilling across the table, Sieun felt the quiet comfort of being truly home. 

He leaned back in the chair, fork poised, and smiled faintly, happy and content.

Because some mornings, Sieun realized, home wasn’t a place.

Home was Ahn Suho.

Notes:

Drabbles are for trying hard writers like me who struggle to get past through the one thousand word mark. Gonna dump all of my short daydream scenes of shse here.

Ahn Suho needs all the love in the world. And Sieun will happily give it to him.