Work Text:
Steven was not entirely sure how he had ended up in an Art History class. He was a Computer Science major; he was used to late afternoon classes, his peers in hoodies and sweatpants, fingers flying over keyboards.
Not this. Not the matcha lattes, the put-together outfits, the notetaking on paper. The lack of tension and competitiveness in the air. It was unnerving.
His laptop whirred suddenly, and the sound drew the attention of the guy sitting in front of him. Steven caught the way the guy turned, saw Steven’s “Eat. Sleep. Code.” laptop sticker, and grimaced. He shrunk.
He felt out of place and just a little afraid, but apparently he needed to take at least one elective to graduate. The thought of the other options on the list (Intro to Finance and Physics 101) kept him squarely in his seat.
Steven sat through his professor’s introduction, taking note of assignments, exams. The mention of a final group project made him pause, but he relaxed slightly when she said that the groups had already been formed. At least he’d been spared the embarrassment of having to find a partner.
The lecture droned on, leaving him mostly bored and only a little lost. At the end of the hour, she pulled out a class list and asked each pair to find each other.
“Steven Kim, JL Gaspar.”
Steven saw JL before JL saw him. Sitting two rows ahead of him and a few seats to the right, JL was twirling a pen in his fingers as he scanned the room. Steven’s breath caught. JL was pretty, delicate features hidden under soft brown hair, the glint of a piercing shining from his ear.
His eyes finally found Steven, and Steven raised his hand in a half-wave, shooting him a smile. The grin he received in return was wide, bright, and Steven felt momentarily stunned by its warmth.
And, okay. Maybe this class wouldn’t be so bad after all.
“Hey, Steven right? I’m JL.”
“Yeah, nice to meet you. I guess we’re stuck together for this project?”
A snort, accompanied by an unoffended grin.
“Wow, already disappointed in your partner?”
“I mean, if anything, you should be disappointed in getting me.”
An appraising look, scanning up and down.
“You look pretty good to me. I think the two of us can make something passable.”
A lean back in a chair and a loaded glance.
“Do you have some time now? We could brainstorm a bit.”
“Ah, no, I have to run. But here, pass me your phone, I’ll leave you my number.”
***
Han was nervous. He kind of wanted to bolt. Out of this dance studio, out of the performance building, back into his comfort zone, behind his computer and his codes.
But last week, when scanning a bulletin board between classes, he got caught on one specific flyer. It was bright purple, the font playfully obnoxious, and it advertised: Do you like to sing? Do you like to dance? Are you decently good at either? Come join our performance team!
He had pondered it for a second, then shook his head and walked away. But it kept popping up everywhere he went, purple flashing in the corner of his eye, until he caved and ripped one away, shoving it into the bottom of his bag. It lay crumpled there all week, its presence poking at him. It was the Zero pressure, just vibes, we promise, written in small letters at the bottom that finally carried his feet to the listed dance studio.
Thankfully, the atmosphere was warm and inviting, as advertised. Han snagged himself a spot next to the mirror, sipping water and making idle chitchat with the people near him as more people slowly filed in. None of them were trained dancers or singers, he learned, and that was the whole point of the club. It’s just for fun, he told himself, but that didn’t stop his stomach from flipping when the club execs clapped their hands to get everyone’s attention and start the auditions.
Those who wanted to sing went first. Han watched, clapped politely, and was eternally grateful that everyone returned the favour when his turn came, his voice shaking noticeably with nerves. He was mildly embarrassed when he sat back down, and only managed to snap out of it when one of the next students began to sing, a sweet and clear falsetto filling the room.
Catching sight of the face attached to the voice left him stunned. The boy was beautiful, eyes bright and cheeks flushed, two hands gripping his water bottle like a microphone. He swayed with the music, and Han swayed with him. As he bowed amidst scattered applause, he made eye contact with Han. A small smile graced his lips, which Han carefully returned.
Next were the dance auditions. Han was significantly less stressed about this part, more confident about his dancing than his singing. He shook out his limbs, hopping in place to soothe the remaining nerves as the song’s first few beats rang out, then he threw himself into the choreography. When he finished, he snuck a glance at the pretty boy, and thrilled at the way he was already looking back, an impressed look on his face. The pretty boy gave him a thumbs-up, and Han’s heart did something weird in his chest.
When the boy’s turn came, he found himself a place right in front of Han. And just with his first turn, Han was mesmerized. The way he moved was fluid, elegant yet powerful, and Han watched, mouth slightly agape, as the boy shifted from one step to another, as easy as breathing.
Cheers wrenched him from his daze, and he hurried to clap along, managing to shoot the boy a wobbly thumbs-up of his own. It made the pretty boy giggle, the sound muffled by the hand covering his mouth, and Han wondered, almost deliriously, how he could hear that laugh again.
“Hey, I’m JL.”
“Oh! Um, hi, I’m Han.”
A nervous smile, fingers fidgeting with the cap of a water bottle.
“You were really good up there.”
Words dripping with sincerity.
“Thank you. You were really amazing too.”
Twin smiles, one shy and mortified, one shy and charmed.
“If we both get in, would you maybe want to practice together sometime?”
“Y-yeah! That sounds fun.”
“Great! I’ll leave you my number, if that’s okay?”
***
When Han got home, Steven was already there. His shoes were in the rack, his backpack was slouched against the couch, and the smell of ramen wafted through the apartment.
“Han, is that you?” he heard Steven ask.
“Yeah,” he called back, shrugging off his coat.
He padded into the kitchen, taking in the sight of Steven sitting at their dining table, shoveling steaming noodles into his mouth.
“Sorry I’m late,” Han said, “I got caught up in… something.”
“No worries,” Steven shrugged.
And it was truly no big deal. They were roommates, best friends even, but they didn’t keep tabs on each other like that. They were three years into living together, a quiet friendship that had started after they got randomly assigned to the same dorm, and that worked well enough for them to keep it going, even after they moved off campus.
Sometimes they did assignments together, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they went to parties together, sometimes they didn’t. Sometimes they ate together, sometimes they didn’t. Mostly because they lived off instant meals more often than not, and there was no need to do a whole song-and-dance for microwaveable food.
But occasionally Han would splurge on fresh groceries and cook something more interesting. Those meals he always shared with Steven. Those nights were Han’s favourites.
So, they knew each other, memorized each other’s schedules, lamented over class woes, shared laughs and drinks. It was nice. Comfortable. Safe.
But one thing they never did was talk about boys. During their first year of university, Han had caught Steven sneaking someone out of their dorm room, and then Steven had spotted Han cozied up with a classmate at a coffee shop, and they both had felt just awkward enough to never mention either instance. Or any instance after that. None of their pursuits ever seemed to progress far beyond very brief courtships, and they didn’t ask, didn’t tell.
That was why, as the two of them quietly sat together, Steven didn’t talk about the boy with teases on the tip of his tongue, and Han didn’t talk about the boy with music running through his veins.
“How was your day?”
“Not bad. Pretty standard first week stuff.”
“Meet anybody interesting?”
A pause.
“No, you?”
And another.
“Nope.”
***
“Hey, partner.”
Steven looked up from his laptop as JL tapped him on the shoulder, and grinned as the latter pulled out a chair and settled down.
It had been about two weeks since their first meeting. They were sitting together during Art History now, but given that JL had a class before and Steven right after, they never really had much time to talk besides exchanging idle pleasantries. Their meeting today at the campus café was supposed to be for planning their project, but clearly JL had other ideas in mind, as he started chatting about everything but.
Steven listened politely as JL launched into talking about his friends, Juwon and ChihEn, and how they were planning on crashing a campus party later that week, and had Steven ever gone to one in that specific dorm building before? He’d heard the floors were notoriously sticky there, but the drinks were always good, but was it smart of him to risk getting frat flu just for free drinks?
Every time there was a lull, Steven would open his mouth, and JL would interrupt him with yet another topic. He’d even jumped up and declared a coffee break, dashing off towards the counter and ordering them both drinks before Steven could even get a word in. When he came back and set the mugs down, Steven grabbed his wrist and squeezed before he could go off on another train of thought.
“JL, as much as I appreciate this coffee, and this conversation, we should probably discuss our project.”
JL pouted. “My distraction didn’t work.”
Steven almost cracked a smile, but held his serious expression. He had a feeling that any show of weakness would make JL pounce.
“If you can focus for another hour, I’ll let you ask me anything you want.”
JL perked up at that. “Anything? Really?”
“Yes. So concentrate.”
JL slipped his hand into Steven’s, the one that was still loosely grasping at his wrist. They shook on it. And thankfully, JL seamlessly switched into Art History mode, pulling out his notebook without further argument. They brainstormed for a while, jotting down notes and ideas, and Steven was pleasantly surprised by JL taking the lead. Once they had a solid outline done, Steven leaned back in his chair and stretched, delighting in the way JL’s gaze dragged over his arms.
“Coffee break? My treat this time.”
“A vanilla latte, please,” JL requested. “And maybe a snack?”
He batted his eyelashes at Steven, a smile on his face that was failing miserably to be innocent. Steven rolled his eyes and headed towards the counter, a strange combination of endearment and exasperation mixing in his chest.
JL’s eyes lit up as he caught sight of the tray, two mugs and a slice of chocolate cake balanced upon it.
“I knew you’d spoil me,” JL said, and Steven couldn’t find it in himself to disagree.
“A computer science major? I thought you lot were supposed to be all nerdy. How come you’re so buff and handsome?”
“JL!”
“You said I could ask any question!”
“That’s not a real question and you know it.”
“Okay, okay, how about this. If we hadn’t been paired up for this project, would you have come talk to me?”
A contemplative silence.
“Eventually, yes.”
A delighted hum.
“Because I’m so pretty?”
“I’m not answering that.”
“Doesn’t matter. I think I already know the answer.”
***
“What song do you want to do for the showcase?”
“Um, I’m not really sure. Do you have any ideas?”
As Han was coming out of his last class of the day, his phone had buzzed with a message from JL. The other had sent him a selfie, posed cutely in front of the mirrors of a dance studio. I snagged a room! Come join me, the text had read.
They had both been accepted to the performance club, a fact that JL thought was a given and Han still found astonishing. Now they met as a group a few times a week for practice, all in preparation for the end-of-semester showcase. Their club execs also told them they had the option to prepare small group performances or solos, if they wanted to.
Han hadn’t planned to do anything with that news, but he had caught JL’s eye in the mirror, and the other had nodded vigorously, the biggest smile on his face. So that was that.
“What about this?”
JL turned his phone around, the first few bars of Mark and Haechan’s +82 Pressin’ ringing out.
“Oh, I love this song,” Han exclaimed, head bobbing along.
“Right? Me too,” JL beamed. “And the choreo is so cool.”
JL added it to their shared playlist. Because they had a shared playlist now. Originally it was supposed to be for adding ideas for their duo performance, but then JL had added a Filipino song that he thought Han would like. Then Han had added some songs from his favourite bands, and the playlist became something else entirely. Han liked scrolling through it every night, listening to and loving unfamiliar songs, and roasting JL over text when he added something too “plebeian”. JL, in response, renamed their playlist only snobby music allowed.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sing something with me?”
This was their remaining point of contention. Han didn’t mind dancing with JL, was in fact starting to really look forward to it, but singing was still an idea that frightened him.
“And before you start with all that crap about not being good enough, I told you already, your voice is gorgeous,” JL interjected before Han could open his mouth.
Han flushed. Despite the fact that JL hadn’t heard him sing again since those first auditions, JL still insisted that he was good. It was flattering, but Han could barely believe him.
“I don’t know, JL,” he said truthfully. “And besides, what would we even sing?”
“I really liked this song you added to the playlist,” JL scrolled through his phone. “The Little Prince by Ryeowook.”
“You want me to cover a song by the king of vocals?” Han was immediately horrified. “I’m gonna butcher it, absolutely not.”
JL reached over to grab his hand. “Stop saying that, you would kill it. And no matter what, I’ll be standing there with you.”
Han stared at where their hands were linked. Was he feeling JL’s heartbeat through his palm, or was it just all the blood suddenly rushing through his body?
He pulled Han up from the floor, snapping him out of his reverie. “Just think about it, okay? Anyway, today let’s just learn this dance.”
They crowded around JL’s phone, playing the same snippet again and again, and then willing their bodies to follow the moves. Han liked practicing with JL, his boundless energy and positivity making it easy to run through the same beats on repeat. Even when JL couldn’t quite get a move, he just sighed good-naturedly and pushed on. And he wasn’t scared of asking for help.
“Hani,” he pouted. “I can’t get this part.”
He demonstrated, and it was true. His arms were all wonky, his torso consequently unbalanced.
“No, no, here, like this.”
Han, unthinkingly, stepped behind JL and grabbed his waist. He twisted him into position, and JL gasped, a small surprised noise. Han immediately went red, but couldn’t quite let go.
“Okay, got it. What else?” JL asked, his voice uncharacteristically shy.
“Um, your arms…” Han pulled them down and re-extended them correctly. “There. Perfect.”
They stared at each other in the mirror, twin blushes on their cheeks. Then JL seemed to come back to himself, turning around and grinning at Han, the proximity no longer seeming to affect him.
“Thank you, Hani,” he sing-songed. “Shall we keep going?”
“Hey, JL? Why’d you pick me? You could have asked anybody and they would have loved to do a duet with you.”
“You’re really selling yourself short. Anybody would have loved to pair up with you too, you know. I just managed to snatch you up first.”
“Nah, I wasn’t even planning on doing it. You didn’t have any competition.”
“Oh. So why’d you say yes?”
“Because you asked.”
A surprised pause.
“And… would you have said yes to anybody who asked?”
A loaded glance.
“No.”
***
Occasionally, Steven and Han would study together at the library. It was usually less planned and more coincidence, one of them bumping into the other there. Steven liked working with Han though, because the other kept conversation to a minimum, and his concentrated face was usually enough to motivate Steven in turn.
Today, though, they both seemed distracted, their heads elsewhere. Steven was staring at a blank document on his laptop. Had been for the past thirty minutes. The cursor blinked at him tauntingly. Han was tapping some unheard rhythm on the table with his pen. Kept repeating the same two measures over and over again, his eyes glazed over. Both hadn’t made a single bit of progress.
A notification at the bottom of Steven’s screen jolted him out of his thoughts. A weather warning.
“Crap,” Steven muttered. “Han, pack up. It’s going to rain soon.”
It took a second to register, but then Han was on his feet, shoving everything into his backpack. They scurried out of the library, half-walking, half-jogging back to their apartment as the sky darkened. Two blocks away from home, rain started coming down, a drizzle at first, then building quickly to a downpour. Steven pushed Han forward into a run. By the time they made it to the lobby, they were both drenched.
“You go shower first. I’ll make tea.”
Han nodded wordlessly and headed down the hallway towards the bathroom, water dripping from his hair to the floor.
Han wasn’t scared of a lot of things. In fact, they both liked watching horror movies and playing scary games, and they shared the responsibility of trapping and releasing the occasional bug in their apartment. Han took care of the spiders, Steven of the cockroaches.
But he did have one weakness. Storms. Thunder. Something about the darkness and the ground shaking and the noise absolutely petrified him.
The first time it happened, they were still living in their old dorm room, Steven had come back from class to a blanket-wrapped lump on Han’s bed. He’d paused in the doorway as Han’s face had peeked out. Before Steven could ask what was wrong, there had been a particularly loud rumble, and Steven saw Han cringe back into his hiding spot. So he’d come in, put his bag down, and settled down next to Han with his laptop.
He had booted up a game, some cracked version of a 1v1 fighter game he indulged in sometimes, and had placed the computer between him and the lump. Slowly, he had seen Han’s hand untangle itself from the depths and select a character. They had played game after game, just until the storm clouds rolled past and away, taking noise and pressure and fear with them.
“So you’re scared of thunder, huh?” Steven had asked when it was all over.
“Let’s not talk about it,” Han had muttered as he rolled off his bed.
Steven made fun of him sometimes for it, but during every storm, he was there. Offering company, offering comfort. Han took it every time.
By the time Han finished showering and drying off, Steven had started up their usual game on the TV. There were two mugs of steaming tea on the coffee table, and the extra comforter from their linen closet was already dumped on the couch.
“Be right back,” Steven murmured as he passed Han for his turn in the bathroom.
Han folded himself onto the couch, draping the comforter over his shoulders. He watched the characters on screen jump and pirouette as they waited to be selected, and tried not to flinch whenever lightning flashed outside the window. Steven would be there soon.
The thing was, this routine they had, this unspoken agreement, it was truly out of character for them. Han considered them friends, but not really ones who were particularly clingy or soft or warm. And Han was perfectly fine with that. Still, he was eternally grateful for this kindness that Steven kept granting him.
“I’m gonna crush you this time,” Steven said as he came back into the room, reaching for his controller.
“In your dreams,” Han taunted back, and neither of them commented on the weak quiver in his voice.
Whatever was distracting both of them earlier at the library was not on either of their minds anymore. All that remained was the warmth of a hot mug, the sounds of play fighting, and the presence of the other person next to them.
“Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.”
***
Come out with me tonight, the text had read. It was followed by an address to a club, just a few blocks away from Steven’s apartment, a place perfectly in between sleazy and upscale. Steven was standing outside it now, listening to the bass thump through the walls, warm despite his short sleeves.
“You came!”
Steven looked up at the exclamation. JL was crossing the intersection in front of him, chunky boots slapping against the pavement.
“How do I look?” JL stopped in front of him, doing a slow twirl.
As the opportunity was presenting itself, Steven grasped it with both hands. He allowed himself to stare unabashedly at the other, admiring the ripped jeans, the crop top, the silver earrings. There was glitter in the corners of his eyes.
“I like the way you matched the purple here,” Steven pointed to his eye makeup. “And here,” he gestured towards the chain he had hanging from his belt loops.
JL looked stunned for a moment, before his grin was back in place. “Well, of course. Art student, remember?”
He took a second to scan Steven up and down. “You’re doing that thing with your hand again.”
“Hm?” Steven looked down. What was he doing?
“When you’re trying to look cool. You put your left thumb in your pocket. It doesn’t really work.”
Steven hurriedly pulled his hands away from his pants, and JL laughed. “Never noticed I did that.”
“I did,” JL said, nonchalantly. “Come on, let’s go. I know the bouncer.”
JL did indeed know the bouncer. And the security inside the doors. And the club promoter, who he greeted with a shriek and a tight hug. Everywhere he went, people turned to say hi. And yet, even with so many eyes on him, he kept turning back to Steven, flashing a smile every time he saw him still following close behind.
Steven watched JL lean across the bar to talk to the bartender. There was a familiarity there, familiarity everywhere, and Steven couldn’t stop the slight jealousy curling in his stomach. JL was like the sun, bright, enticing, but it looked like Steven wasn’t the only one drawn to his warmth.
“You really know everyone, huh?” Steven reached over JL to grab a napkin, pressing just a bit too close.
“Are you jealous?” JL laughed, delighted. “Don’t worry, Steven, I still think you’re the most interesting person in the room right now.”
They stared at each other. Steven marveled at the way the lights shifted colours across JL’s face, the glitter and gloss shining like stars. Gorgeous. As always.
“Let’s go dance,” JL downed his drink, pushed away from the bar, and stepped into the thrum of the crowd. Steven followed.
“JL.”
“Hm?”
“We’re here. Where’s your key?”
“Oh. Um, back pocket.”
A clumsy shuffle in the dark, then a door unlocking.
“Thanks for walking me home. And thanks for coming out with me tonight. I had… I had a lot of fun.”
“Me too.”
A pause on the doorstep.
“Sleep well, JL.”
***
The sun was halfway to reaching its highest point by the time Han arrived at the trailhead. He sat on a nearby rock, waiting. This was one of his favourite places, a small mountain with a little-known hiking trail easily accessible from the city. It was always quiet, a serene place to clear his mind, and he wanted to show it to JL. Who currently, as Han lifted his head and spotted him, was shuffling his way across the road.
Han had texted him early in the morning, already half expecting the other to say no. He was pleasantly surprised when JL had agreed. Although, looking at him now, Han wasn’t really sure why he had said yes at all.
“You look like crap,” Han remarked.
JL groaned. “I might be slightly hungover.”
Han scanned JL with amusement as he grumbled. He was bundled in the most crumpled-looking hoodie and sweatpants, and the sunglasses on his face just barely hid the dark circles under his eyes. But there was something incredibly endearing about him being there anyway, frown and all.
“We can go slow.”
JL’s whines didn’t stop, but they at least quieted a bit as they stepped onto the trail. As they crossed the treeline, the sounds of the city were immediately muted. All that was left was the sound of wind rustling through the leaves above them. JL let out a surprised exhale.
“What is this place?”
“My secret haven,” Han smiled at him. “Wait until you see the view from the top.”
They walked in relative silence, not awkward, just peaceful. Han stopped them when a bird started chirping, and they listened to its song in awed silence. JL grabbed his arm when a chipmunk ran across their path, giddiness in his movements, and Han watched JL watch the little creature burrow under a tree. They shared a water bottle from Han’s pack halfway up the mountain, and Han reluctantly let JL pour out a few drops for a bug on a rock, because it just looks thirsty, Hani.
When they reached the top, JL was more awake, ditching the sunglasses and wrapping his hoodie around his waist. He looked around, confused, as the trail seemingly ended out of nowhere.
“This way,” Han said, and scrambled his way up a giant boulder.
He bent down to give JL a hand, and found him struggling not to laugh.
“Do I also have to climb up like a lizard?”
Han rolled his eyes and pulled him up. JL’s giggles stopped as he finally took in the view. From here, they weren’t at the highest point ever, but it was enough to look out over the city and the skyline. And still, it was quiet. The sprawl of everything laid at their feet, and yet, all they could hear was still the wind and the birds and their own breath.
“Nice, right?” Han sat down, and gestured for JL for follow.
They sat there, the rock beneath them warmed by the sun.
“Do you come here often?” JL asked.
“Only when I get overwhelmed by everything. It feels safe here. Free.”
JL’s next words were soft. “Thank you for trusting me enough to bring me here.”
Han pressed his shoulder into JL’s, and that was answer enough.
When they headed back down, Han went first. Again, he reached out his hand to JL. Just as JL took the first step down, a pebble rolled under his feet. JL let out a shriek as his balance shifted, and he fell. Han’s eyes widened and he stumbled forward to catch him. Instead of the heroic rescue either of them anticipated, they crashed into each other and tumbled to the ground in a heap.
“Oh my god,” Han groaned. JL’s elbow was digging into his back.
“Why didn’t you catch me?” JL wailed.
“I tried!”
Han rolled JL off him, and they both laid there, clothes soaking soil and dew. And then JL laughed, a little breathless, a little pained. He hooked his pinky into Han’s, and Han thought he could lay there forever.
“You’re quieter out here. More grounded, more… sure of yourself.”
“Am I?”
“Yes. Except for the part where you almost let me fall to my death. But, you know, generally more unafraid?”
“Is it weird?”
“Of course not. It’s nice to see.”
A silence, broken only by the crunch of gravel underneath boots.
“I like this side of you.”
***
About once a month or so, Han would knock on Steven’s door, and Steven, no matter what he was doing, would drop everything and join him. Roommate bonding time, they called it once.
It had started some time in their first year. Steven had been losing his sanity over a particularly difficult assignment, and Han had taken one look at him, hunched and desperate at his desk, and dragged him out of the dorm. Steven had protested all the way to the cinema, up until Han had shoved him into a theatre seat and forced a sugary drink into his hand. They had watched some random action movie, a cheap production with too many explosions and too little plot, and when it was over, Steven’s mind had quieted down. He had stirred his straw through the melted remains of his slushie as the credits rolled, and when he had softly said that they should do this again, Han had only hummed in agreement.
They didn’t always go to the movies. Sometimes they just went on a walk, or window shopped, or went to go shoot some hoops at a nearby park. Once they took the metro to the end of the line and got lost in the neighbourhood they popped out in. It wasn’t always exciting, but it was always lovely. So whenever Han knocked, Steven answered.
Today they were making their way to the local mall; apparently some new trendy arcade had opened. It wasn’t really Han’s thing, but he knew Steven would like it. They were immediately assaulted by a wall of colour and sound, but Steven only grinned in excited anticipation, hands shaking a bag full of just acquired tokens.
“How good are you at Dance Dance Revolution?”
“Uh, I’m not sure, I’ve never played,” Han looked away from a gaggle of screaming teenagers, a feeling of mild dread rising in his stomach. He looked to Steven, but the slightly manic look in the other’s eyes brought him no comfort.
“Guess we’re about to find out,” Steven laughed, and dragged Han towards the machines.
At least Steven was nice about it, kindly guiding Han through the controls and letting him get a feel of things before absolutely slaughtering him. And as much as Han huffed, he couldn’t help but smile at Steven’s antics, the other’s enthusiasm infectious.
“At least you’re better at this than Smash.”
They made their way around the room, trying their hand at some shooting games, some more fighting ones, even crowding around an old school pinball machine, both of them yelling and mashing the buttons wildly. There was a VR section in the corner, and after one game left him mildly nauseous, Han left Steven there, the other still concentrated on shooting virtual zombies. His wandering feet brought him to a wall of claw machines.
He perused the selection with bland interest, eyes scanning the various plushies and figurines. Right before he turned around, he paused. There, in the corner of his eye, nestled between some cats, bunnies, frogs, and what looked to be a white potato, was a small fox plush. This, for some reason, he wanted.
He fished out his last few remaining tokens and bit his bottom lip as he wondered if he’d have any luck. Then he struggled, with growing desperation, as he aimed the claw again and again, and every time just barely managing to graze the sides of the little fox. As his last failed attempt whirred to a stop, Han sighed and rested his forehead on the side of the glass, gazing forlornly at the stuffed toy.
“Which one do you want?” A voice spoke up from behind him.
Han turned around. Steven was standing behind him, pink marks still carved on his face from where the VR goggles sat pressed. A laugh sputtered out of Han at the sight, and Steven just grinned back at him obliviously.
“That one,” Han pointed. “But I’m out of tokens.”
“I still have a few. Let me try,” Steven nudged him to the side.
“You really don’t have to,” Han tried to protest, but Steven only shushed him.
Han watched, feeling a bit guilty as Steven missed again and again, just as he did. But the other just furrowed his brow in concentration, in frustration, and pulled token after token out of his pocket. Until finally, finally, the claw dipped down and snagged the fox’s ear. Han’s heart leapt as the toy was pulled through the air and dropped into the corner. Steven bent down to fish it out of the machine.
“Tada!” Steven brandished it towards him. “For you.”
There was something about this moment, the way Steven was holding the plushie out to him, flushed and grinning with victory, that had Han feeling shy. He didn’t really know why, couldn’t explain the sudden fluttering in his stomach. So he ignored it, reaching out with shaking fingers to take and cradle the fox to his chest.
“Thank you,” he said softly.
Steven clapped a hand onto his shoulder. “No problem. Want to go grab lunch?”
They went down a floor to the food court and split up to buy food. When Steven joined Han at the table, Han had already propped up the little fox toy beside his tray. The sight made Steven smile, and they shared an amused look.
As Han started eating, Steven pulled out his phone for the first time in hours. There was a text from JL. It was cheeky and flirty, and it made him laugh.
“What’s got you so happy?” Han asked him.
And there was a warmth in Steven’s chest, a small joy that grew and kept growing with every thought of JL, and some part of him wanted to spill it out in front of Han, to tell him everything. But then he looked across to him, the other sporting a look that was both curious and pinched, his fingers unthinkingly fiddling with the fox sitting between them, and the words died in his throat.
“Just a text from a friend.”
“After we’re done, do you mind if we go back to the arcade for a few minutes?”
“Sure, why?”
“I have a few tokens left, and I saw a black cat plushie I want to try to get.”
***
Today was another “HanJay rehearsal day,” as JL had excitedly began calling it. Han fought him on it at first, but would never admit that he thrilled every time JL mentioned it. Han was slowly going through the last chorus when JL made a noise of exclamation.
“My project partner is here! Do you mind if he comes in for a bit? We were supposed to go practice for our presentation after this.”
Han nodded wordlessly, watching his own steps in the mirror. The door shut behind him as JL left. There were only his shoe squeaks left in the studio, and he breathed in the sudden silence. How strange it was that JL’s absence made everything immediately more dull.
He did a slow spin, keeping his feet carefully balanced even as he heard the door open again, and as he came out of the turn, he made eye contact with Steven through the mirror. The shock of seeing his roommate interrupted the finish of his move, the jolt causing his legs to tangle and sending him crashing to the floor.
JL shrieked, and Steven was at his side in an instant.
“Oh my god, are you okay?” Steven crouched down next to him.
Han didn’t answer, too busy staring into the fluorescent lights above him and willing the embarrassment to go away.
“Han?” Steven sounded worried now.
“Yeah. I’m good,” he croaked out.
“Wait, you guys know each other?” JL asked, bewildered.
Steven offered a hand to Han and pulled him up. Han couldn’t quite meet his eyes, mortification still burning in his cheeks.
“We’re roommates,” Steven explained. “And friends.”
When Han looked at JL, he was standing there with his mouth open in a little O. For some reason, he kept flitting his eyes back and forth between them, an unreadable expression on his face.
“What are you doing here?” Steven asked him.
“Hani’s my partner for the showcase I was telling you about. We’re doing a duet! He didn’t tell you about it?” JL stepped in when Han stayed silent.
“Ah. No… Hani never mentioned anything.”
The gaze Steven fixed on him was piercing. Han had unconsciously stood up straighter when he heard Steven call him Hani (for as long as they’d known each other, it was always Han), and now he burned with the knowledge that Steven could not have missed him tensing up at the name. It was weird to be in front of Steven like this, and Han felt exposed, vulnerable.
“I didn’t know you danced,” Steven said softly.
Han shrugged, uncomfortable.
“He sings too! Super well, even if he doesn’t believe me,” JL piped up. “Have you heard him before?”
And the thing was, Steven had. Han had a habit of singing, unconsciously, under his breath, in the shower, with the TV, over the sound of the stove fan. It had stopped Steven in his tracks the first time. But he had made the mistake of mentioning it once, just an offhand comment, and Han had frozen and scurried away. They never spoke about it again.
So, the fact that Han was letting someone else see him, was preparing to let the whole student body see him, all before Steven ever got a real chance… something about that hurt.
“Do you want to run the dance through one more time?”
Now that it seemed like they had all gotten over their initial shocks, JL was back to his bright, peppy self. The hopeful gaze he had trained on Han made it hard for the latter to say no. He’d told JL before he wasn’t ready to dance in front of anybody other than him, but clearly JL thought that his and Steven’s roommate-and-friend status made this situation an exception. Han nodded, helpless.
JL cheered, and led Steven to sit at the front of the room. Steven watched Han, saw the way he drew his beanie almost completely over his eyes, the grim set of his mouth, his hands clenching and unclenching. Some part of him wanted to leave, to spare his friend the discomfort, but some part of him was also curious.
He tried to convey this with his eyes, and for the fleeting second when their gazes met, Han lowered his head in a barely perceptible nod. The tension melted out of Steven’s body. He could stay.
JL ran to his position. The music started, and Steven could barely stop his jaw from dropping. Obviously, he knew JL could dance, had seen it firsthand in the club all those weeks ago. But this was different. Where the JL from then had been fluid and rolling, sensuality oozing from every lazy, easy move, this JL was sharp, powerful, commanding the room still but in a completely different way.
And Han. Steven had never seen his roommate like this before. Sleek, fierce, his moves magnetic. As the song went on, he was shedding the awkwardness; there was even a hint of smirk as he hit the moves, perfectly on beat.
Steven’s mouth went dry as they stepped towards each other and performed a particularly thorough body roll. He wasn’t even sure who he was really looking at. The song ended, and Steven found his breaths just as shaky as theirs.
“What did you think?”
“Yeah. Really… really good.”
“Do you still want to practice our presentation tonight? Han, I was going to have JL come over originally.”
“Of course! Hani, you can listen to us and give us feedback.”
“Um, sure, why not?”
“Great! Lead the way then, boys.”
***
“Nice place,” JL commented.
It was weird to see JL in their space. Steven and Han stood in the open doorway, watching JL do a slow loop around their living room. He leaned down in front of their TV stand, where they had put the fox and cat plushies won that day at the arcade, set up in front of one of the only pictures in the whole apartment.
“Vacation photo?” JL asked.
“Yeah,” Steven answered.
During the summer between their first and second years, they’d rented a cottage with some of their respective friends, spending a weekend by the lake, fishing, swimming, rowing a canoe up and down the bank. Jeongwoo, one of Han’s friends, had carried a disposable camera around the whole time, snapping endless pictures. He’d taken one of Steven and Han standing at the end of the pier, their arms around each other, an orange sky behind them.
It was one of Han’s fondest memories. He remembered them sharing a drink as they watched the sunset, remembered Steven pointing out a flock of ducks in the distance, remembered Jeongwoo coming up behind them and asking them to pose. He remembered reaching for Steven, finding him already reaching back. The warmth and the peace and the joy of it all.
So when Jeongwoo had the film developed a few weeks later, Han begged him for that photo. He’d set it all flimsy on their TV stand, and the next day, Steven came home with a frame.
“Cute,” JL said, and turned around. “Shall we get started?”
Steven stepped forward to help JL set up their presentation, and Han stepped back into the kitchen. While they practiced a few times, he was going to make dinner.
Their voices were background noise to his cooking. It lulled him, calmed him, made the process of taking out ingredients and slicing and dicing and stirring feel less tedious. More meaningful somehow. He wasn’t entirely sure why.
They called him back as he was finishing up, so he left the pan on the stove to keep warm. When he came into the living room, JL steered him towards the couch. Their intro slide was up on the TV, and already Han could feel his eyes glazing over at the title. He really wasn’t an Art History person.
“Pay attention!” JL pointed at Han, then cleared his throat to start.
Han listened, trying his best to keep up and look invested. He nodded and made sounds of interest at moments he hoped were appropriate.
“Thoughts, comments, questions?” Steven asked Han when they finished.
He was wringing his hands, looking oddly nervous. JL side-eyed him. It looked like Steven was worried about impressing Han.
“That was… interesting. Um, Steven, I understood everything you were saying. Good stuff. JL, there was one part I didn’t quite get…”
As Han asked his question, JL saw Steven relax, even smile a little at the clumsy compliment. Huh.
They ran through it one more time, and when Han had given them his approval, they put everything away and moved to the kitchen.
“I hope you like kimchi fried rice, JL, ‘cause it’s Steven’s favourite,” Han said as he set the table.
“Of course! I’m good with anything,” JL sat down. “This looks amazing!”
“Thank you, Han,” Steven murmured. “It’s perfect.”
JL caught the way Han deflated just slightly at the thanks, but also how he perked up immediately at the following compliment. His lips were pressed together, but a corner was lifted in a small, pleased smile. JL chewed on the end of his chopstick, looking back and forth between the two, contemplating.
“How was your day?”
“Oh, you’re not gonna believe this. You know the two guys I’ve been talking to?”
“Yes, Steven, Hani, the loves of your life. You haven’t been able to stop talking about them.”
“Right, well. They’re roommates. They know each other. Not just that, I’m pretty sure they’re both into each other. It’d be cute if it wasn’t so devastating.”
“Why devastating?”
“You didn’t see the way they were acting around each other. They’re oblivious, but… I can’t get in between that.”
“Doesn’t this solve your problem? Sure, they may be into each other, but they also are into you, no? If you do it right, you could have them both.”
“You don’t think that’d be selfish of me?”
“There’s been room in your heart for both of them, right? Maybe it’ll be the same for them.”
***
When Han came home from class, there were a pair of feet hanging off the side of the couch, the sight of which made him pause. Not that Steven never took a nap in their living room, but he usually didn’t do it in hot pink socks. Han crept closer, and chuckled as he took in JL’s sleeping face.
JL wasn’t frequently still, his energy usually boundless, always in motion. It was almost jarring to see him so at peace, his face slack, breaths coming out in little puffs. Still beautiful, still bright, but less like a midday sun and more like dawn breaking over the horizon.
Han leaned against the couch and stared. And why not? No one was around to witness how creepy he was being, nor see the goofy, lovesick grin on his face.
That is, until JL suddenly opened his eyes, randomly jolted awake. He screamed when he saw Han standing above him, and Han screamed back. JL continued shrieking, tumbling off the couch as Han stumbled away, clutching at his chest.
“What! What’s happening?” Steven shouted as he ran out of the bathroom.
For a moment, there was silence. As JL hoisted himself back up, as Steven realized there was no real danger, as Han stared at Steven’s naked, dripping torso.
He’d clearly been in the middle of a shower, the thought of which had never bothered Han before, but now, as the soap and suds and steam were staring him in the face, he found it all very, very distracting.
“Why were you both screaming?” Steven asked, his hand clutching a towel around his waist. It was kind of slipping. Han couldn’t look away.
“Han scared me. I was napping and he was looming over me. Why were you even doing that?” JL whined as he flopped back down onto the cushions.
Han attempted to answer, but all that came out was a strangled sort of noise. JL raised an eyebrow at that, and turned his head to see what he was staring at. Seeing Steven still standing half-naked in the doorway, he understood.
“Nice,” JL said, unruffled, and shot Steven a thumbs up.
Steven seemed to realize just how exposed he was and flushed. He hurried back to the bathroom. The sound of the door slamming close snapped Han out of his trance. He looked down at JL and found him looking back with a teasing smirk. It was a look he’d never really seen on JL’s face before; something cocky, something dangerous.
“He’s handsome, isn’t he?” JL asked.
Han sputtered, a million things attempting to come out of his mouth at once and none of them really landing.
“What are you talking about,” is what he finally managed to say.
JL just laughed and closed his eyes again.
“Wake me up when Steven’s ready to go. In a less threatening way this time, please.”
They were supposed to be going out for dinner later. Han, still flustered, but now with no audience to see him, scurried to his room. Where he sat blankly staring at a wall until Steven knocked on his door.
The restaurant was about a twenty-minute walk away, and they braced the cool autumn wind together. JL walked between them, and he looped his arms through both of theirs, chattering away. Slowly, whatever remained of Han’s embarrassment bled away.
Just outside the restaurant, JL stopped in his tracks. Steven and Han both stumbled, then turned to see what caught his attention. It was a street performer, doing sleight-of-hand magic tricks. There was already a decent sized crowd around him. The performer did something with his cards that had JL gasping. Steven gave a slight tug to his arm, but JL wasn’t budging. So they stayed, and they watched.
As the man kept doing tricks, playing to the crowd and pulling even more props out, JL got more and more animated.
“Wow! How did he do that?” JL marveled, almost jumping with excitement.
Steven watched him. It was funny, to see his flirty, smug JL get so worked up over simple magic. His eyes were wide, and he was grinning with almost childlike glee. The whole thing was incredibly endearing. He didn’t know JL could be like that.
Next to JL, Han shifted, and Steven glanced at him too. To his surprise, a similar look of amazement graced his features. He wasn’t as enthusiastic, but he still looked transfixed, his mouth forming around little oh’s with every trick. He even raised his hands to clap politely when the act ended. Something in Steven’s chest melted at the sight.
His attention shifted between the two of them, back and forth, back and forth. And when they finally entered the restaurant, Han and JL sitting next to each other in the booth, Steven still couldn’t look away.
“Hani! That was my last dumpling!”
“I thought you were done!”
“Keep your chopsticks on your side of the table. Absolute menace.”
“It’s not my fault you guys talk too much and eat too slow. The food was getting cold.”
“Just for that, we’re not getting dessert.”
“No! I’ll behave. Promise. …But can I have that last spring roll?”
***
Showcase day found Steven streaming into his school’s auditorium with a large wave of his fellow students. Apparently, the performance club’s end of semester showcase was a pretty popular and well-anticipated event, as evidenced by the excited conversation around him. He turned in his seat to look at the rows behind, and was pleasantly surprised to see the room quickly filling up.
He tried to make himself inconspicuous, but there were eyes on him anyway, whispers just loud enough to hear. Most likely because of the two bouquets of flowers in his hands. One large, almost gaudy arrangement, and one singular flower wrapped in an understated bow.
Steven didn’t really know why he bought the second one, just that something had caught his eye when he was selecting a bouquet for JL, something bright and pink and elaborate. Tucked in a corner by the register was a vase of deep purple dahlias, flowers he wouldn’t call necessarily pretty, but were still elegant and lovely. Before he could think about it too much, he had asked the worker to add one to his order.
So now he was sitting there, with two bouquets that he tried to shove down between his legs. He stopped when the petals started getting a little crushed.
“Do you think he has two girlfriends?” he heard the person behind him whisper to her friend.
“If he does, we clearly know who the favourite is,” the friend muttered back.
Steven sighed, resigned to the fact that that was apparently what he looked like to everybody. He didn’t even have one boyfriend, let alone two. They were just flowers for his friends! And yes, maybe the bigger, more expensive bouquet was for JL, but that didn’t mean JL was his favourite! Han was also… well, he was special too… Something about this train of thought made Steven’s head hurt, so he stopped thinking about it.
Just in time too, because the lights suddenly dimmed; the first act was about to start. When Han and JL appeared for the first full group dance, Steven cheered along with everyone else. As he watched, he couldn’t believe they could be this polished in so little time. But of course, he thought, they were perfect. Both of them. Which was another musing he pushed away, half-formed.
The first half of the show was group performances, and the second would be small groups and solos. When neither JL nor Han were on stage, Steven could feel his attention slipping. Everyone else was good, but he wasn’t here for them.
The lights went down again, and his gaze sharpened as he took in two very familiar silhouettes. This was their dance duet then. Something he’d seen already, in a very different setting, but even if Steven already considered that private performance one of the best things he’d ever seen, nothing compared to the absolute electricity of the two of them officially taking center stage. And when the music started, Steven’s mind emptied.
JL’s confidence still shone, as it always did, but it was dialed up to a hundred and ten under everyone’s cheers. And Han. Gone was the self-conscious fidgeting, the slouch, the trembling eyes. Now he held his head high, an easy grin on his face, positively preening under the crowd’s wild reactions. Every move they hit was sharp, powerful, dripping with aura.
Several songs later, Steven was still sitting stunned. The only thing that snapped him out of his daze was JL and Han’s reappearance on stage. Another dance? Steven thought numbly.
They’d changed into white button-up shirts, black neck ties dangling loosely down the front. Instead of settling into a starting pose, they stood simply next to each other. As JL smiled at Han, Steven caught sight of the microphones in their hands. They were going to sing?
The song started. Steven watched Han take a deep, shaky breath. For the first time all day, he looked unsure of himself. But he raised the mic to his mouth and sang. He stared down at the floor, but he sang. And his voice resonated somewhere in Steven’s chest, warmed his blood and bones and filled him with an emotion he couldn’t name. He heard a gasp, and realized later that it was him. And when JL took up the second verse, sweet, melodic, Steven felt like all the feelings inside him were going to overflow and spill past his lips, over his fingers, onto the ground, soaking the room with fervour. Himself, laid bare, overwhelmed, and so so confused.
During the second chorus, Han finally looked up. But instead of looking out over the audience, he turned to JL. JL was already looking back. Steven watched JL smile around the lyrics he was singing, and watched Han return it, tension visibly bleeding away from his frame. They sang the rest of the song turned towards each other, to each other. Their voices weaved together beautifully, effortlessly. Where JL fell, Han rose, and then they returned to each other, like it was the most natural thing in the world. Like they were always meant to be doing this together.
Even the thunderous applause couldn’t draw their gazes away from each other. The last thing Steven saw as the lights dimmed was Han reaching his hand out, and JL taking it. And the expressions on their faces. JL beaming, looking proud, and Han, looking grateful and relieved and…
Smitten. Enamoured. Both of them, Steven realized with a jolt. They were in love with each other.
There was no jealousy curling in the pit of his stomach. No flash of anger, of possessiveness. Not like that night at the club. If anything, it was grief.
Maybe this was what JL really wanted. Not someone to tease endlessly, but someone gentle. Not someone to protect him, because he didn’t need anybody to do that, but someone he could find on equal footing.
The rest of the show passed in a blur, colourless, muted. How could anything possibly hold his attention anymore, after that?
When he finally snapped out of it, he found himself outside the auditorium, backed against a wall as the performers started coming out, finding and meeting and cheering with their friends. He scanned the crowd for JL and Han, but they didn’t appear. Even with his mind in pieces, he busied himself with the flowers in his hands, fluffing them up and rearranging the bunched-up stems.
When he looked up again, he spotted the two of them coming out the side doors. As they made their way across the hall, acquaintances and friends pulled them in every direction, yelling for them, congratulating them. Steven watched as they pulled apart to talk to separate people, then gravitated back towards each other. Two planets, orbiting each other, and coming together again and again.
They spotted him at the same time when they were a few meters away, and the twin smiles directed at him almost bowled him over. JL rushed over first, pulling him into a hug.
“You came!” he exclaimed, warm and excited.
“Of course I did,” Steven patted his back. He was holding JL in his arms for the first time, and he was in love with someone else.
He made eye contact with Han over JL’s shoulder, who was looking at them with a fond expression on his face.
“You guys were amazing. Really. The duet was…. phenomenal.”
He said this into JL’s ear, but he was looking right at Han, who fidgeted and turned red.
“Wasn’t he so good?” JL gushed, finally pulling away from Steven, and reaching a hand back to Han. “I couldn’t have done it without him.”
They smiled at each other, their fingers intertwined. JL’s smile said, I’m so proud of you, and Han’s said, I will follow you to the ends of the earth. Steven cleared his throat, not wanting to break their moment but also not really wanting to stay in it.
“These are for you.”
He handed the bouquet to JL. It felt a little stupid doing it now, and more than a little pathetic, especially after realizing everything. But he couldn’t regret it, not with the way JL’s face lit up.
“These are gorgeous, thank you so much.”
He turned to Han, and felt guilty and awful when he saw the unsettled look on his face. What man would enjoy seeing someone else give his love flowers?
“I got this for you too,” Steven said, awkward, nervous.
He held out the dahlia. To his surprise, Han’s eyes widened, then softened. He reached out slowly, and when he took it from Steven’s hand, their fingers brushed. Han stared at the flower, held it delicately in his hands. Like it was special. Like it was precious.
“For me?” he said softly, tone disbelieving.
Steven nodded, not trusting the words that would come out of his mouth if he opened it. Because, for some reason he couldn’t understand, some part of his brain wanted to say: Of course for you. For both of you.
A dahlia in a glass, set in the middle of a small dining table. Two boys, staring, both a little embarrassed for no discernible reason.
“Really brightens up the room, huh?”
Two chuckles, stilted.
“…Thanks for coming today. I know I kind of kept the whole thing from you, but… it really meant a lot to me, to know you were in the audience.”
“Of course. Always.”
***
A week out from the showcase and Han was still riding the high. Every so often he’d get a flash of memory, feel his heartbeat in his ears, hear the cheers, the applause. Remembered how he’d turned to JL on stage, saw him radiant and perfect, and how he’d wondered if he shone like that too.
When he was a kid, he’d been scared of the covered slide at the playground. That long tube that twisted and turned, its height daunting and insurmountable. He’d stood at the top, staring into the dark, shaking. But then his father’s voice echoed up from where he was standing at the bottom, a familiar comfort. And even if Han couldn’t see him, just knowing there was someone waiting to catch him made his fears dissipate. He’d jumped into the slide, his heart in his throat, and trusted that he’d be found.
The stage felt like that too. He’d been so nervous. Until he looked at JL, standing next to him on stage. Until he chanced a glance towards the audience, to the faceless crowd, and told himself that Steven was out there, somewhere.
The three of them were slowly becoming inseparable. JL kept following Steven home after class, and Han found himself setting the table for three instead of two most nights. Their group chat was never silent, and they always seemed to be keeping tabs on each other, gravitating towards each other on campus for no real reason.
Like right now. Han was juggling three drinks in his hands, trying his hardest not to spill one as he climbed the steps to the library. Two iced coffees for him and Steven, and one matcha latte for JL. He knew the two were working on their final assignment, had been for the last two hours, and he figured they would appreciate the little pick-me-up. It had nothing to do with the fact that the apartment felt a little too quiet, a little too lonely as Han waited for them to come home.
He beelined straight for the back of the library, heading towards the table half hidden in the stacks. He heard JL before he saw him, and Han laughed soundlessly. JL always insisted he was quiet, but he was always the one getting shushed by the librarians. A soft giggle floated out between the shelves, and it made Han pause, just a turn away from being spotted. He peeked around the corner.
“I’m so glad we’re working together.”
JL’s voice was soft, sweet, but not in the way Han was used to. Not the lovely gentleness that carried Han through their dance practices, but a honeyed tone, sultry almost. And it was punctuated by the way JL was leaning into Steven, his eyes half-lidded.
“Yeah?” Steven wasn’t even looking at him, still concentrated on his laptop, but there was something pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Such a great partner,” JL cooed, and Han watched him rest his head on Steven’s shoulder.
Steven bit back a smile. “You really know how to make a man feel appreciated.”
“How could I not, when studying with you brought my GPA up a whole grade point?”
Steven rolled his eyes, but his gaze was fond when he turned to JL. They smiled at each other, and the realization hit Han so hard he almost dropped the drinks in his hands.
Oh. They liked each other. Steven, confident and self-assured in a way Han had never seen, smirking, flirting. JL, shameless, matching his energy. And of course. Of course JL would love Steven’s strength. JL wasn’t always the sweet, gentle version Han had come to know. He was also bold, coy, and maybe that’s what he was looking for. For someone to meet him head on, not shy away. For someone to chase, not to be pulled along by his presence, helplessly, like Han was.
The drinks were sweating in his hands. With every drop falling from the cups to the ground, Han’s heart grew heavier and heavier. He felt like he was being untethered, floating away, getting cut off by a truth he realized was always in front of him. JL was not his, had never been his, and Steven… Han choked back a cry, his mind going painfully blank.
When he finally left his hiding spot, he pretended everything was fine. He had taken so long to compose himself that the two were back to their own sides of the table, quietly focused. They both looked up in surprise, then smiled simultaneously. Han, still not trusting his voice, just held up the drinks with a watery sort of smile. He hoped they didn’t notice.
“My latte is kinda cold.”
“Oh. Sorry, I… was far from the library.”
“JL! Be grateful, he came all this way for you. Thank you, Hani.”
***
A week later, Steven got sick. Something he caught from the stupid guy with the obnoxious bright yellow hoodie and super clacky keyboard sitting behind him in class, as he described. This he said half-dazed from cold medicine and with an uncharacteristically childish pout on his face. The sight made him sympathetic, even if looking at Steven still caused a weird pain in Han’s chest. JL likes him. JL likes him.
So as Steven deteriorated, Han piled blankets on him, brought him soup, emptied out his trash can when it filled with tissues.
“You really don’t have to do all this. I’m not dying,” Steven rasped as Han brought in his dinner.
Han rolled his eyes. “You’re my friend. This isn’t exactly the hardest thing in the world to do. Now eat.”
Han kept him company, perched on the corner of his bed as Steven swallowed shaky mouthfuls of broth. Steven’s throat hurt when he talked so they mostly sat in silence, but it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Once he pushed the bowl away with a grimace and reburied himself in his covers, Han got up to leave.
“Can you sing something for me? To help me sleep?”
The request made Han stumble. Probably still mostly out of it from his last dose of medicine, he figured.
At first, Han opened his mouth to refuse, but then. He thought about storms. About foxes falling from a claw. About a flower in a glass. He thought about closing the door on Steven, and the hush that would follow.
“The Little Prince?” he tried.
Steven frowned, his eyes still closed. “No, not that one. Something else,” he said, almost petulantly.
So instead, Han sang some lullaby he remembered his mom humming to him throughout his childhood. It felt strange, and intimate in a way they never were. All the confidence he found on stage weeks ago was gone now. But how could he refuse, when Steven’s voice was so small, but the longing in it so loud? He tapped the rhythm gently with his hand over Steven’s blanket, and the other jolted, before slackening under his touch.
He kept singing softly, watching Steven sink deeper and deeper into sleep. Han was unable to look away, a foreign yet familiar feeling in his chest. The warmth, the fondness, it felt like when he locked eyes with JL in the dance studio mirror, like when he reached for him under the stage lights. But that didn’t make any sense. Did it?
When Han left the room, Steven’s breaths even and quiet behind him, his confusion was enough to make him dizzy.
A few days after that, Han got sick too. Steven returned the favour, bringing him tea and cool wet towels for his fever.
Han’s voice was scratchy as he thanked Steven for pulling back his curtains. It was slightly mortifying to ask for help for such a simple task, but his body was just aching too much to move.
“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you,” Steven teased, sensing Han’s muted discomfort.
When Han just stared at him though, his face turning suddenly blank, Steven balked.
“I mean, not if it makes you uncomfortable. I didn’t… sorry,” he tried to backtrack, sure that he had said something wrong but not really sure what.
“No, it’s not that,” Han said, but didn’t clarify further.
He slid further down into his blankets and sighed. Steven took that as his cue to go.
“Not going to sing for me?”
A laugh almost punched out of him, but when he turned, Han was staring at him like he was expecting something.
“Really?” Steven asked, disbelieving.
Han nodded slowly, then closed his eyes. There was nothing Steven could do but settle back down on the edge of the bed. He didn’t have a great voice. Not like JL. Not like Han himself. So he couldn’t help the small flush of embarrassment as he started to sing, some random ballad he listened to sometimes.
When his song ended, he sat there, listening to Han’s slow breaths. Just as he was about to leave, some unknown time later, Han’s voice floated up from behind him, low and slurred and half-asleep.
“I like when you take care of me.”
Steven almost tripped. He caught himself, shock giving way to delight faster than he could process. He stood frozen in the doorway, happy and giddy for reasons he couldn’t understand.
“We still on for dinner tonight?”
“Sorry JL, I can’t anymore tonight. Hani is sick, I’m staying home to look after him.”
“Oh no! Do you need me to bring anything?”
“No, it’s alright. It’s contagious, so… we’ll see you in a few days.”
***
JL flopped directly into their couch. He groaned. Juwon and ChihEn were busy with a puzzle scattered over their coffee table, and they shared a loaded glance.
“What’s wrong?” Juwon asked.
“I can’t do this anymore.” JL’s voice was muffled by the cushions.
“You’re gonna have to be more specific.”
JL rolled over and sighed.
“It’s Steven and Hani.”
“What cute and/or hot thing did they do now?” At the mention of their names, Juwon and ChihEn both turned back to their puzzle. There was only so much gushing they both could pretend to want to listen to.
“No, it’s not that. I think I need to give up.”
This made his friends’ heads whip towards him. Juwon’s mouth dropped open, and ChihEn’s face was impassive as always, but the slight widening of his eyes betrayed his surprise.
“Why would you do that?”
“I know you guys said it’d be worth a try, the three of us. But honestly, I think I’d just be coming in between them.”
“What do you mean?”
“You haven’t seen them together. They say they’re just roommates, just best friends, but they understand and take care of each other in ways even I don’t understand. Just last week, I was having lunch with Steven when he got a notification about the weather and ditched me. Said Hani had a thing about rain. Didn’t even ask if I wanted to come.” JL sighed, long and sad. “I honestly don’t even get how this whole mess has been happening when they’re just so perfect for each other.”
“Have you considered, maybe, that they don’t know?” ChihEn said carefully.
“Don’t know what?”
“That they like each other. I don’t know, JL, I’ve never seen them interact, but as this point, after so long, they might really just be oblivious to the fact that they’re into each other.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah. So, if you think about it, you’re not really making a mess, maybe you’re just the missing puzzle piece they need to figure it all out. Maybe they can’t do it without you.”
A message, sent to a group chat.
“What do you guys think of going on a trip? Just the three of us. To celebrate the end of the semester?”
***
In the end, it was JL who picked their destination. He spammed their group chat with rental listings, all wood cottages nestled in the forest, fire pits and fireplaces galore. A deposit was sent before either Han or Steven could even make their opinions known, though neither of them really cared, especially when JL seemed so excited. There’s a hiking trail nearby! And we can chop our own wood! The reviews say they saw deer!
Steven drove them up, a two-hour trip that had Han snoozing in the passenger seat while JL talked over his specially curated playlist, too excited to let any song play out in full. They woke Han up when they stopped for groceries and trailed behind him as he tossed ingredients into the cart, occasionally piping up with meal requests.
The sun was setting by the time they arrived, car stuffed full with snacks and drinks and fuzzy blankets that JL insisted they needed for stargazing purposes. The orange sunset was so vibrant that both Steven and Han paused to take it in, and were only startled out of their wonder by the sound of a camera shutter. They turned to find JL giggling softly to himself as he lowered his phone, which was just endearing enough for them to stand there for a second longer, smiling at each other.
They followed JL into the cottage, shadowing him as he flipped on all the lights and bounced from room to room.
“How are we going to sleep?” Steven asked.
It was a two-bedroom rental; two of them would have to share a bed. Han and Steven avoided each other’s eyes. Before either of them could suggest that the other share with JL, JL dragged his bag into the smaller room.
“I snore, so! You two can share the bigger bed.”
Then he scampered off towards the living room, leaving the two of them standing in slightly stunned silence.
“I guess… we’re sharing?” Steven moved first, his voice hesitant.
“Yeah, sounds good,” Han attempted a nonchalant smile.
They moved their bags into the room and quickly left, Han towards the kitchen, Steven towards the wood pile outside. No other words were exchanged, both of them suddenly awkward.
Before long, there was a fire roaring in the pit, stacked high with freshly split wood. Steven settled into one of the chairs, turning a bit at the sound of someone opening the screen door and descending the steps to him. There were two drinks in JL’s hands, one he handed to Steven. JL took a seat, sighing in delight at the warmth.
“This is so nice. I’m so glad we came out together after that long semester.”
Steven hummed in response.
“Hey Steven?”
JL had his face half-turned towards him, orange and red bathing his features. Something about their toasty little bubble of solitude within the darkness was making him sentimental.
“I’m happy that we’re friends.”
And then, sitting by the fire, watching the logs crackle and burn, JL’s words ringing in his ears, Steven was taken by a burst of confidence.
“JL.”
“Hm?”
“I like you.”
JL turned fully to look at him, and Steven met his gaze head on. He hoped JL could feel his sincerity, floating between them like flecks of ember. He hoped JL wouldn’t hate him, that Han wouldn’t hate him, that the two of them could forgive him for coming between them like this, for being so selfish. Because as much as he saw the path the two of them were going down so clearly, he needed, needed JL to know how he felt. The wind blew a plume of smoke over JL’s face, and Steven thought he saw Han’s face somewhere in the blur. His guilt, manifesting.
“I really like you.”
“I know,” JL said simply, and reached between them to squeeze his arm. His touch, usually so welcome, cracked open something in Steven’s chest. JL smiled still, but to Steven it looked somewhere between wistful and disappointed.
“But what about Hani?”
And there was his answer. How could he have ever thought he had a chance?
***
Dinner started quiet. Han could tell there was simmering tension between the other two, but had no idea what had transpired. Maybe, with the way JL kept sneaking glances at Steven, they were finally figuring out the thing between them? It pained him, but it also made him harrowingly hopeful, to imagine the future between his two best friends. So he reached for the alcohol, and poured them both generous portions. He filled his own cup to the brim, and prayed for enough courage to get through the night.
With each drink, the atmosphere lightened, and they were finally laughing like they used to, weird tension dissipated. As JL started leaning back towards Steven, tipsy and red-faced and eyes bright, Han took a shot. Then another. And another.
At some point, he found himself on the floor of the living room. He could hear the other two padding around him, opening doors and leaving. This was it, Han thought hysterically. He was warm from the alcohol, more than a little giddy, and he was sure that the two of them were going to finally get together. The floor would be a nice place to grieve.
JL’s face suddenly swam across his vision, concerned, and he hiccupped a laugh. The universe giving him one last chance, perhaps. Even if it meant betraying his friend.
“JL,” he slurred, reaching up to cup JL’s cheek. “JL, I like you. So much.”
JL pressed his hand against his. “Oh, Hani,” he said softly.
And what could that possible mean? He was about to ask, to press further, to pry the answers out of JL’s heart and through his mouth, because he wanted to know. Needed to know.
But then he heard Steven calling for JL from the distance. He watched JL turn towards the sound, his hold on Han slackening. Han closed his eyes, heart heavy. So that was that. Remorse and regret and pain slammed into him, and he drifted.
***
Han managed to drag himself into bed by the time Steven came back in, smelling of shampoo and the slightest remnants of smoke. He was half asleep, but the sound of Steven padding across the floor and slipping under the covers snapped him back to alertness. With it came the guilt that still refused to go away, and Han cringed and curled further into himself. Steven paused, noticing his movements. Han waited, for the anger, the rage.
“Goodnight, Hani,” Steven said instead, and turned off the bedside lamp.
The darkness made them far too aware of each other’s presence, each other’s breathing. Han screwed his eyes shut while Steven stared straight up into the darkness, and they laid there, matching tense breaths and meaningless nervousness until sleep finally overtook them.
***
The morning sun streaming through the blinds woke Steven up. He blinked his eyes open, still drowsy with sleep, and startled slightly to find Han so close. They had turned towards each other during the night, hands and feet seeking out the other’s warmth, but not quite touching. There was space between them, but not much, and Steven watched Han’s eyes flutter open some indeterminate time later. He didn’t move, hadn’t.
Han puffed out a breath of surprise when he met Steven’s gaze. Didn’t move either, for some reason. They stared at each other, the air between them heavy.
There was something Steven wanted to say, something his heart wanted his brain to tell his mouth to say. Han had never noticed the curve of Steven’s lips before, never in this much detail. Had they always looked like that? Soft, he thought deliriously, and plush, and…
That train of thought was interrupted when their door squeaked open. JL’s head popped in, scanning the room. Before either of them could move, JL saw them, not quite cuddling but something close, and he, inexplicably, smiled.
“Good morning,” he said. “Sleep well?”
A phone call, taken in the bathroom, hushed whispers hidden under the sound of a running shower.
“How’s the trip going?”
“I think it’s working! I found them this morning all cuddled up in bed. There was some space between them, but they clearly found each other during the night.”
“Probably subconsciously leaving space for you, ha.”
“That’s the hope, isn’t it? Anyway, keep you updated! They’ll get suspicious if I’m in here too long.”
***
In the end, it was Han who broke first. JL was taking a shower, and he and Steven were quietly making dinner. The events of last night kept swirling in his brain, the uncertainty and the grief. He needed it all to stop, needed to end things once and for all.
“You should be with him,” he said quietly.
Steven paused, hands stilling over the cutting board. “What?”
“JL. You should be with him. You clearly like him, and he… he clearly returns your feelings. You guys would be happy together.”
Han stared into the bowl of sauce he was mixing, though not really seeing anything. His words had come out soft, with just a hint of bitterness he couldn’t quite hide.
“Hani, what are you talking about?” Steven’s tone was bewildered.
Maybe they were further away from realizing their feelings than Han thought. But he’d already put the words out there, couldn’t take them back. He might as well lay all the facts out on the table.
“You make him comfortable. You make him laugh. You meet each other head on. He looks at you like—like you’re everything he’s ever wanted.”
“That’s not true.”
Han laughed, humourlessly. “Yes, it is. I’ve been seeing it for a while now. You’re blind if you haven’t noticed it.”
Steven put down his knife. “You’re the one who isn’t seeing what’s in front of you. JL likes you. He gravitates towards you, he trusts you, wants your approval more than anything.” Frustration coloured his voice. “Sure, he laughs with me, but jokes don’t make JL swoon. It’s performing, it’s the spotlight, and you… he loves sharing that with you. With you, he’s himself in a way he isn’t with me.”
Han was hearing the words, but he wasn’t really understanding them, his brain refusing to even try. Steven had it all wrong. Why was he making this so difficult? Han thought he could give his best friend seal of approval, take up his role of eternal third wheel with grace, and watch them be happy. Why wasn’t Steven letting him do this?
“You should be together, you’d be good,” Han decided to plow straight through, as if Steven hadn’t said anything. “Don’t think I don’t see you go quiet when he leaves. Light up when he comes back. You make each other happy, so… I’ll be fine.”
Which was a weird thing to end with. What place did his own feelings have in their relationship? He bit his lip, slowly dragging his fork around the bowl. This was difficult, more difficult than he’d thought it’d be. He thought, knew really, that the piece of his heart that beat for JL was going to bruise and hurt, but instead it felt like the whole thing was splintering, breaking, bleeding pain in a way he couldn’t understand.
Steven, on his end, was coming to his own slow, dawning realization. He’d stepped forward during his little speech, barely resisting the urge to grab Han and shake sense into him. Now, he was close enough to see Han’s face, saw the way he was trying to hold himself together, saw all the cracks that were forming. The sight broke Steven’s heart, anger gone in a flash. All he wanted to do was gather Han into his arms and soothe away the pain.
Even as he’d just been essentially sending him away. Sending JL to him. Feeling like he was bidding goodbye to them both.
And between two beats of his heart, everything finally slotted into place. The confusion. The half-emptiness. The rightness and the wrongness of being with JL, only JL.
He was in love with them both. And with the way Han looked like the world was ending around him, with the memory of how Han looked at JL, the memory of how Han looked at him. How did he never see it? Han was in love with them too.
The next words tumbled out of Steven’s mouth before he could even think. “Why are you breaking your own heart instead of asking for what you really want?”
“This is what I want,” Han said firmly. The lie tasted like ash in his mouth.
Steven couldn’t let himself dwell on this more. The thoughts would turn to fear, fear to doubt, doubt to silence.
“I’ll tell you what I want then. I want JL.” Steven saw Han flinch and reached towards him, placing his hand lightly on his arm, wanting to make things right. “And you, Hani.”
He’d never said those words before, had never even thought them. And yet, as he spoke them into existence, they echoed with nothing but the truth.
Steven continued. “You have to bear with me. I’m… I’m confused too, but I want… us. I didn’t realize it until right this second, but I want us. You, me, JL.”
His tone was growing desperate, trying to understand and rationalize and voice his feelings all at once. “Hani, I think I’m in love with JL. But I think… I think I love you too.”
Han was shaking his head, almost violently, as if movement could keep what Steven was saying away, far away from him. “What are you saying?” he choked out, agonized. “What is wrong with you?”
His rejection, his denial, felt like a blade. Steven couldn’t grip him harder, but couldn’t let him go lest he slip away forever; instead, he left his hand there, a steady, unwavering presence. “Hani, just… just focus on what you’re feeling. Trust me. Please.” Almost a beg.
Tension rippled under Han’s skin, everything in him telling him to bolt, to not pull back the curtain. A precipice spread out in front of him, dark and perilous. And at the bottom, the unknown. But suddenly, he was tired. Of holding himself back, of straining his eyes and his mind and his heart away from his blurred future.
“All I want is for both of you to be happy,” he started slowly, eyes closed.
For a minute, nothing else came. “But I’m scared. Scared that if you’re with JL, I’ll lose him.” Another pause. “And I’ll lose you. And the idea of that makes me feel like I can’t breathe, and I don’t know why.”
Hani inhaled sharply, then let out a shaky exhale. Here he was, dangling over the edge. Here he was, letting himself fall. “I’m in love with you too, aren’t I?”
The realization made the tension bleed out of him. Almost too much, as he wobbled and went slack. The truth, a weight finally lifted off his soul. Steven grabbed his hands and held them to his chest, turning Han around to face him, steadying him. They couldn’t meet each other’s eyes, just stared into the space between them.
“I didn’t understand it either,” Steven said finally. “Why being with JL felt like the greatest joy and the greatest sorrow. Why being with you felt both like the safest and most painful place in the world.” His heart was beating so fast. “It’s because I wanted you both, and I couldn’t have you. You felt it too, right?”
Hani nodded wordlessly. He couldn’t remember the last time, if they ever, stood so close. Didn’t know he was allowed to be, and now wondered why he ever thought he needed to ask permission. He wanted to put his head against Steven’s chest, wanted to press his cheek against his heartbeat. He did, and felt Steven’s breath hitch under his lips.
“Don’t take JL away from me. Don’t leave me,” he whispered.
Han’s vulnerability sounded foreign, wounding, to Steven’s ears. If it was JL, Steven would have the confidence to pull him closer, cup his face, bring him comfort with tenderness. Would have gazed at him from close and breathed affection until he smiled. But they weren’t like that. Not yet. So Steven wrapped one arm around his back, patting gently.
“Not going anywhere,” he breathed.
But one day, he’d like it to be more with Han. Would like to memorize what happiness looked like on him up close, in the creases of his eyes, the scrunch of his nose, the blush of his cheeks. The thought passed through his mind as if it had always been there.
“Are you guys okay?”
JL was staring at them from the door, eyes flitting back and forth between them. He looked confused, concerned, and there was something close to hope, close to heartbreak, fracturing his gaze. Hushed, harsh whispers had reached him at the end of the hallway, had left him frozen with worry, not sure what kind of Steven and Han he would find around the corner.
But the way they were standing next to each other, facing each other, both looking shattered but having crossed the distance they always kept between them, it told him everything he needed to know.
“Ah. You finally figured it out?”
Of course he knew, Steven thought. This was always going to happen, Han thought. Everything finally falling into place.
And so, neither of them flinched when JL stepped into the space. Neither of them hoped, or wished, or agonized over who JL would reach for. They just waited, as JL opened his arms to them both.
That night, they ate dinner in heavy silence. And when they finished, JL dragged them into the main bedroom, pushed them down onto the covers, and slotted himself in between them. It felt weird, and surreal, and warm, and perfect.
“What are we doing?” A whisper into the dark.
“We’re figuring it out.”
***
Things didn’t magically come together perfectly right away. In fact, when morning came, Steven and Han still couldn’t meet each other’s eyes, the comfortable dynamic between them changed. Neither knew how to navigate it.
JL gave them two hours, before the awkwardness became too ridiculous to bear. Then he rolled his eyes, sat them all down on the floor, and made them talk about their feelings. All three of them, painfully, and at length.
But it worked, and Han finally let himself look back and forth between them. His two best friends, his heart. He let the weight of the past fall away, let himself look forward to their terrifying, beautiful future. A blank slate, a new story waiting to be told.
Nothing could have prepared him though, for the way Steven’s gaze lingered on him when JL, after declaring their talk over, pressed a kiss to both of their cheeks. That in itself was a surprise, a welcome one, and Han couldn’t stop himself from resting a hand over where the ghost of his touch lingered. He looked like a lovesick fool, but it made JL giggle, and that was enough to keep him from feeling too bashful. Steven though, he was staring thoughtfully, expectantly, but something in Han’s eyes must have told him, not here, not yet.
A new routine was quietly established over the next few weeks. Art History was in Steven’s past now, but he and JL still met up at the library to work together between classes. Han was the one reserving dance studios for them now, practicing alone until JL showed up, matcha lattes in hand. But now JL let Steven press him against the library stacks, mouths moving over skin, and now he sang love songs to Han until he blushed, then kissed him until he melted, soft and warm beneath his hands.
In contrast, Steven and Han hadn’t become touchy, much to JL’s chagrin. Not for the lack of wanting though. They kept up their habits, the way they sought each other out, the undercurrent of yearning that was always there all at once uncovered, exposed. Now, in the movie theatre, Han wished Steven would take his hand; when they played video games, Steven hoped Han would lean over, fall just so into his lap. But they still didn’t know how to voice these desires, these aches. So they gravitated towards each other, stole each other’s time, fell asleep on opposite ends of the couch with only their ankles pressed.
But when JL stayed over, more and more often, it was easy to pile into Steven’s bed together. To watch dramas on Han’s laptop until the quiet left them soft, reaching for JL and for each other without worry, without fear.
Tonight, Han was making dinner, some dish they’d had at a Filipino restaurant a few weeks ago (they’d called it a date, a real date) that had left JL blissful and homesick. He’d promised then that he’d learn the recipe, and now it was bubbling away on the stove.
One ingredient had slipped his mind during his grocery trip though, so he’d texted Steven to pick it up on his way home from class. The table was already set, their shared playlist (now including Steven) filling the silence, and with nothing else to do but wait, Han did a slow round of their living room.
The space was becoming more and more theirs. JL had moved in plants, so many that they had to set up a schedule to water them. He and Steven had splurged on a second-hand guitar for Han’s Christmas gift, and now it stood propped in the corner of the room. Most evenings had him plucking at the strings and humming softly as the other two called out requests. He didn’t know most of the Filipino or English songs they sang along to, but he’d learn. Steven was more comfortable leaving his things in the living room now, mostly clothes that got stolen immediately and dog-eared books scattered on every free surface.
Which wasn’t a lot, given that most of their coffee table was taken up by the giant puzzle JL’s friends Juwon and ChihEn had gifted them. They were a third of the way through, and Han wondered what they could do with it once it was done.
Maybe frame and hang it, amongst the photos? The photos, that now dotted every wall. JL loved having them take pictures of him, loved taking pictures of them, alone, together, the three of them squished into one still. He captured them happy, contemplative, silly, and then decorated their home with their lives.
And on the TV stand, three plushies. JL had dragged them back to the arcade at some point, insisting that a third was required. He had cheered Steven on as he fished for a raccoon toy, at the same claw machine that months ago had given them the fox and the cat. Now it rested there, hand in hand with the others.
Han ran his finger over their most recent photo addition, traced the features of JL and Steven’s faces, and felt the peace and the joy and the permanence of it all. So, when Steven clicked open the front door sometime later, Han was stood in the foyer waiting for him.
“Hey Hani,” Steven smiled, eyes softening at the sight of him. “I got your stuff.”
Han stood immobile as Steven took off his coat and boots. He didn’t move even when Steven padded further into the apartment, stopping in front of him.
“You okay?” Steven asked, concerned.
“Yeah, I just,” Han paused, then let out a little disbelieving laugh. “I just really want to kiss you.”
Steven’s eyes widened. Then a grin stretched across his face, small then delighted. Before Han could think about it more, he leaned in and pressed his lips to that happiness. Channeled everything he wanted to say into it, his apology for making Steven wait so long, his gratitude for all their years together, his love, simple and uncomplicated really, in the end. And Steven held him, hands against the small of his back, steady and sure and safe, like he’d always been.
“Oh, come on, you really couldn’t have waited for me?”
JL was standing in the doorway, pouting, but his tone was joking. And they could read the glee beneath the grumble. He’d been patient too, waiting for this moment.
Steven and Han pulled away from each other, slowly, barely. And there, with the promise of food and music and devotion and forever, they held out their arms to JL, and he stepped into their embrace.
“Welcome home.”