Archive of Our Own

The first time Jeongin received a chocolate in his locker, it was at the tail end of what had been an incredibly long, exhausting day. He’d had a bad head cold - Not bad enough to stay in bed all day, but enough to make him feel miserable and under the weather. Seungmin had jokingly nicknamed him Rudolph, because the sheer number of times he’d had to blow his nose had left it an irritated shade of bright red.

He’d struggled this way through a math exam that he felt utterly unprepared for - He’d gone to sleep early instead of studying, and he didn’t feel confident in any of his answers. He’d laid his head on his desk afterwards, half out of exhaustion and half of out despair. He could not afford to flunk any of his college courses. Not just because he literally could not afford it - Even with student loans and grants, each course still cost him about $1000 out of pocket - But because he needed to hold a steady C average in order to keep his spot on the swim team secure. For a variety of reasons, Jeongin needed that spot.

On this particular day, he also needed a nap. And a cup of hot tea. And a coughdrop. And a bath. God, what he wouldn’t give for a bath.

He’d shown up for practice anyways, because he’d had plenty of practice in sucking it up and carrying on. Their captain, Chan, had taken one look at him and ordered him to sit that day’s practice out, to go home and get some rest. He’d felt a little reluctant to abandon the team like that, but he knew that it had been an order, not a request, and he really was so tired, so he didn’t fight back. Seungmin had given himself reindeer antlers with his hands as his send-off message, while simultaneously keeping six feet between them at all times, lest he catch any germs.

Jisung yelled an enthusiastic “Rest well!” Jeongin had caught the cold from him. He still had a lingering cough to show for it, but was otherwise back on his feet. Jisung hadn’t had any reservations about spending several days in bed, despite never even breaking out into a fever. He’d complained about his symptoms loudly and often to anyone who would listen. Jeongin had taken pity on his hyung - Brought him chicken noodle soup, watched his favorite animes with him, rubbed his back - And was now paying the price for his good deed.

Hyunjin’s goodbye had been the kindest of them all, squeezing him into a hug that cured his ails for as long as it lasted, and whispered “I hope that you feel better soon.”

Maybe it was that, or just knowing that every step he took brought him that much closer to his bed, but his steps felt lighter as he made a pit-stop to his locker to gather his things before returning home. That was when he’d seen the presents waiting for him there - A package of honey throat lozenges, a hot chocolate bomb, a packet of chamomile tea, and a chocolate in the shape of a heart. That was the part that gave Jeongin the most pause, that seemed to declare the gesture as a romantic one. There was no note, no clue left behind to suggest who the gift-giver may have been. Jeongin was curious, but if he was being honest, he didn’t put too much thought into solving the mystery. He was pleased, but he was still sick.

He popped a lozenge right away, almost moaning from the relief it provided him, and shared them with Changbin when he was the third member of the team to fall victim the cold. He kept the tea for himself, making the box last throughout the semester, savoring the earthy flavor on both early mornings and late-night study sessions. He liked cupping it within his hands, feeling its warmth seep into his skin, letting the steam fog his glasses.

He reflected on who it could’ve been when he ate the chocolate, letting it melt in his mouth. It had to be someone with access to the lockers - Maybe someone on the swim team, but maybe not. Every sport shared the same changing room, apart from the football players, who had been granted their own wing through the power of a wealthy donor’s money. What they needed an entire building for when their sport was primarily played outside, Jeongin did not know. Once he’d finished his treats, though, he let it go. He let himself forget, brushing it off as a one-time wonder.

It came as a fresh surprise to him, then, the next time he opened his locker to find something waiting for him inside of it. It had been another particularly shitty day - He was involved in some petty argument with Felix, even though Felix rarely got mad at anyone for anything, and he felt like crap about it. He was still stubbornly clutching onto his own anger, his own convictions, but he could feel his grasp loosening. It wouldn’t be much longer until he broke, begging for forgiveness. Felix would forgive him, because he always did. Jeongin had never, not once, known him to hold onto a grudge.

Still, it ached. It sucked, to hurt, and have been hurt by, someone he loved so much. He’d spent the day underneath his own personal dark cloud. Despite plenty of evidence to the contrary, his sadness always felt permanent, like happiness would never again be his to hold. The letter left in his locker proved him wrong.

It was a love letter - Handwritten, but in a script he didn’t recognize. It was clearly written by someone who knew him well, because it outlined his better features, reminded Jeongin that they were still there. That it was not him against the entire world, because it was not the entire world who was against him.

And so it went - At least once a semester, in every one of Jeongin’s darkest hours, there would be something waiting for him in his locker. They ranged from something small - One singular chocolate ball, a charm, a poem - To bigger - A bouquet of flowers on Valentine’s Day. The set of headphones he’d really wanted, but wasn’t sure he could afford. More love letters. With each present, he became more invested, more eager to unveil his secret admirer.

It sounded silly to say that he was catching feelings when he didn’t even know who they were, but he was. It didn’t matter what they looked like - They had the biggest heart of anyone Jeongin had ever met. He didn’t know them, but they knew him. They saw who he was, straight through to his soul. They appreciated him, cherished him. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that they had saved him, but - They were a light, something for him to hold onto, a reminder that he was never alone. That he wasn’t unlovable, or unlikeable, because clearly someone felt something for him. It made Jeongin feel like maybe he was worth something, that his presence in the world was. He had spent his childhood being told the opposite, so to have someone reassure him that he wasn’t - It cracked him open inside.

Of course, his secret admirer wasn’t the only person who made him feel that way. To make such a claim wouldn’t be giving his teammates enough credit. With them, he belonged in a way that he never had before. They created a new definition of family for him, one that wasn’t painful. One where every fight had its resolution, where you were looked after and cared for. When one member fell, they all fell, so they never let anyone fall. When Jeongin stumbled, there was always a hand or two to reach out to him in support, to pull him back up again.

There was Chan, who looked after them like he was a mother hen and they were his ducklings. And, okay, maybe Jeongin was mixing up his fowl, but the point was that he looked out for them, way beyond his obligation to, even when it had nothing to do with the swim team. It was somewhat irrational, but he felt like the father that Jeongin had never had. He’d be more embarrassed by that if the rest of the team didn’t feel the same way - They all called him “dad.” Chan pretended to hate it, said that it made him feel old, but he loved it, really.

There was Minho, who looked after him too, while pretending not to. He had taken him on as his brother, as his fourth cat. Even though Jeongin saw himself more as a fox, he would be a cat around Minho, for his sake. They knew each other well, in a way that didn’t need words, and they’d avoided ever falling into a fight because of it. (And when you lived in a dorm with eight guys, arguments were not uncommon.)

Changbin was the eye of the storm they always turned to when the inevitable fallouts did occur. He was a steady presence, a peacemaker, the shoulder to lie on when you needed one. There wasn’t a single member of the team who was so foolish as to believe that they could survive without him.

Although Jeongin didn’t usually care for skinship, Felix was the one person he would never deny a loving touch. He was sunshine personified, soft and kind. He would never take more than what could easily be given. There was something about Felix that made him feel safe in a way that he couldn’t quite describe, and he couldn’t help but want to lean into that.

Jisung was silly and goofy, and he inspired those same traits in Jeongin. When he was with Jisung, he was free to be a child in ways he hadn’t actually been able to when he was a kid. Underneath the surface, though, Jisung had his own struggles - His own past that he was trying to survive. Jeongin saw himself in Jisung, in more ways than one, and they brought out the best in each other.

Seungmin was a prankster, a creator of chaos, a natural-born cheater at every game they played - But he was also a secret softie who sang ballads in the shower and was quietly, resolutely there for Jeongin any time he needed him. In a way, it felt like they’d been brothers since birth. It seemed impossible that there had been so many formative years of his life without Seungmin in them.

And then there was Hyunjin. Hyunjin was an art major who was drawn to the beauty in all things. He was so full of love, and he was never afraid to show it. They could easily spend hours talking, about anything and everything. When he met Hyunjin, Jeongin hadn’t realized that he had been searching for him, but he so easily filled in Jeongin’s empty spaces, made him feel whole. He was also absolutely, undeniably, gorgeous.

Jeongin was not the only one who thought this. Beauty was subjective, but Hyunjin’s wasn’t. He was fairly certain that Hyunjin had his own fan club of admirers on campus. He certainly had enough suitors, which he occasionally took on, but nobody ever lasted for more than a date or two. Hyunjin said that he liked his life the way that it was, but Jeongin knew that that wasn’t the truth - Or, at least, not the whole truth. He wanted to love, to be in love, so if he refused to settle down, there must’ve been a reason why - Something stopping him. Something like harboring feelings for someone.

Jeongin felt pretty confident in this theory, but he never did figure out who it might be. Jeongin was guilty of having a little bit of a crush himself. It felt somewhat inevitable, like something that was always destined to be and had very little to do with Jeongin himself. Hyunjin was a force of nature - How could be not be pulled towards something like that?

Hyunjin was very physically affectionate, something that he knew made the other girls on campus jealous, but Jeongin always shied away from his touch. Hyunjin would pout, pretend that it hurt his feelings (and maybe only part of this was an act, maybe it really did hurt him, at least a little bit), but it was never because Jeongin didn’t want to be held by him. He was just afraid of showing how much he really did. Afraid of revealing that he, too, got jealous of the easy connection Hyunjin had with everyone he met, of how prone he was to gathering people up in hugs, bestowing them with kisses on the cheek. It hurt because when Hyunjin tried to hold him, it didn’t really mean anything. Or, at the very least - It didn’t mean what Jeongin wanted it to. He wasn’t special and he wasn’t confident in his ability to change that. 

So he tucked his feelings away deep, deep down in himself, in the way that he had learned to do for survival. He dreamed about his secret admirer instead, because it was safer to do so. Since they may never reveal themself to him, both situations were somewhat similar in how hopeless they were. But at least he didn’t have to share a home with his secret admirer. At least he didn’t have to see them walk around shirtless (Or, God forbid, fully naked, like Chan occasionally did.) (Not that Jeongin had a crush on Chan…But it couldn’t be denied that he had a nice body. And sometimes physical reactions were just automatic.) (Jeongin had taken to wearing sweatpants in the team’s shared house, just in case.)

While his friends spent their college years falling in and out of love, breaking up and finding their way back to each other again, experimenting and kissing and leaving socks on their doors so nobody made the mistake of walking in when they were…occupied, Jeongin spent them dreaming. It wasn’t that he didn’t want a significant other. But he didn’t want to split his heart in two, not when it already felt a tug in opposite directions. It sounded callous, but he didn’t want to waste his energy on something he wasn’t already invested in, something that might not work out in the end.

It wasn’t like he was unhappy, or unsatisfied with his life. Romantic life was not the only kind that could be cherished. He had his teammates. He had swimming itself, which never failed to reward him with an inner serenity. He had his classes - Which, once he survived the necessary credits, became more interesting, more worthwhile. For the first time in his life, he was truly alive. He was free to do whatever he wanted, whenever he wanted to. And even when he occasionally wanted to strangle them, he was never not thankful to be surrounded by people he loved, and who loved him in return. His team was his family, his brothers. And just like blood relations were known to do, they loved to tease and rib on him.

It was for this reason that he kept his locker offerings a secret, at first. They were something that was just for him - Something that he held close to his heart. It was only a matter of time, though, before someone else found out. And it really didn’t take much time at all for a secret shared between two to become open information among eight. Especially when the person in this instance was Jisung.

He’d been playfully trying to kiss Jeongin for the better part of an hour when he was able to successfully plant one on his cheek while Jeongin inspected the new benefaction waiting for him in his locker. After a short celebratory dance, he had paused to actually take in the scene in front of him.

“Jeonginnie!” He’d gasped dramatically. (There was little that he didn’t do dramatically.) “I can’t believe that you didn’t tell us that you have a Valentine this year!” His hand had darted out to grab the gift basket. Jeongin angled his body in front of it, so Jisung couldn’t reach it.

“I don’t.”

Jisung had given him a no-nonsense, cut-the-shit look. “I saw what I saw.”

“What I mean is - I’m not seeing anyone. I don’t know who sent it.”

“Didn’t they leave a note?” Jisung made another move to take it away. Jeongin karate-chopped his arm. 

“Cut that out.”

“You didn’t need to bludgeon me to death!” Jisung fake-wailed.

“You’re murdering people, and you didn’t invite me?” Minho joined the conversation, still toweling his hair dry after his shower. Jisung shoved his arm into his face.

“I need you to kiss it better.”

Minho was not impressed. “Oh, so after chasing Jeongin all afternoon, now it’s my kiss that you want? I don’t think so.”

Jeongin had thought that he’d seen a flicker of jealousy flicker across Minho’s features during Jisung’s pursuits, and now he had confirmation of his suspicions. It did not come as a surprise when they began dating the next year.

“I don’t want Jeongin anymore! He’d being so mean to me! He stabbed me right here!” He clutched his chest. “In the heart.”

“It was your arm.”

“No, no! It was my heart! When you refused to tell me who your secret admirer is!”

“Innie has a secret admirer?” Now it was Minho who was peering curiously inside. At least he kept his hands to himself.

“I can’t tell you who it is, because I don’t know who it is. It’s right there in the name - The ‘secret’ part.”

“I get the feeling that I’m missing out on something exciting happening.” Hyunjin was the next person to join their party, and the ball kept rolling from there.

Jeongin still did his best to hide what he could, when he could. (Which was difficult, because Jisung was nosy and liked the linger, always on the periphery at the end of the day, when it was time to pack up and go home.) The one thing he resolutely never allowed anyone else to touch were the letters. Those were his, and his alone. They were too precious to share with anyone else, to open them up to potential scrutiny. Even if it was all lighthearted, he didn’t want them to be mocked or made fun of. Not when they meant so much to him.

It became somewhat of a group activity to solve the mystery, to hunt down his admirer and hand-craft a happy ending. Despite how invested they all were, none made for particularly adept detectives. They followed false leads, went careening down promising paths just to end up exactly where they’d started. Mostly, they enjoyed making baseless claims.

“I think it’s Hyunjin,” Seungmin would say between bites of dinner. (Jeongin tried to hide how happy that made him, despite an overwhelming lack of evidence or truth behind the statement.)

“I think it’s you, and you’re trying to throw everyone off of your scent,” Hyunjin would retort.

“I think that it’s me,” Jisung would chime in.

“I’m breaking up with you.” Minho deadpanned.

“No, no, I’m lying! It’s not me! I love you, please take me back!”

And so on and so forth, until Jeongin’s senior year.

By this point, the team didn’t look the same as it once had. Chan had graduated a few years prior, and Changbin had taken over the role of captain. Leadership suited him surprisingly well. He struck the perfect balance between gentle encouragement, and pushing them to improve. He wasn’t afraid to put in extra pool time to help coach someone who was struggling one-on-one. He was also a firm believer in putting in time at the gym, which was a pain in the ass, but Jeongin knew that he became a better swimmer for it. He reached his fastest 100 yard breaststroke under Changbin’s tutelage.

He’d been a little afraid that losing Chan on the team would mean losing him forever, but he had promised to keep in touch, and he had kept that promise. They all had - Even as new faces occupied their house, the old ones were never forgotten. (At least in part because they kept showing back up.) For example, Minho was around so often to hang out with Jisung that Kyehoon - A new freshman on the team - had been surprised to discover, sometime in November, that Minho had, indeed, graduated, and did not actually live with them on campus.

Hyunjin had graduated too, which Jeongin felt particularly melancholy about. He had actually leaned into their last hug, which had lasted over a full minute, neither of them wanting to be the one who let go first.

“I’m not going anywhere,” He’d whispered into Jeongin’s ear, but he was.

It was the natural progression of things - The give and take that came with growing up, with getting older. Jeongin would miss him, and the opportunities he hadn’t taken. In an alternate universe, maybe he had made a move. Maybe Hyunjin had even reciprocated, and they’d created something beautiful together. But in this world, what they had was still really beautiful, too. He would always cherish the memories they had made together, always think of Hyunjin on the first snow of the year.

But missing half of his hyungs was not the only difference in Jeongin’s senior year - His secret admirer went MIA as well. It provoked a sort of hollow feeling inside of him, the first time he had a truly horrible day and found that there was nothing to find. Maybe his admirer had graduated, or maybe that had just moved on. It was one more thing he would never know, one more mystery that would forever remain unsolved, one more road not traveled by.

It made him feel sad, but he was also a different person now than he had been at eighteen. Not just older and wiser, but stronger. More capable of standing on his own two feet, and more comfortable actually asking for help when he needed it. His biggest regret was not over a lost romantic relationship, but the fact that he had never been able to properly thank them. Not just for the sweet treats on cold days, but for teaching him what it felt like to be seen - To be seen, and to be loved anyways. He would probably have become a different person, in some way or form, if he had never received those letters. If they had never held their hand out to him when he lost his way in the dark. He would have to make do with the appreciation that would never leave him, with the box of letters he would take with him wherever he went next, with the knowledge that he was worthy of being loved. That maybe he always had been.

He had achieved a semblance of acceptance that waned slowly as one year became another, and Valentine’s Day approached once again. The Valentine’s gifts had always been particularly lavish, particularly heartfelt. It would feel especially empty to receive nothing this year, to sit with the feeling of being alone, of being lonely. He kind of hoped, against all of the odds, that maybe something would be waiting for him anyways. 

He shouldn’t have been surprised when he opened his locker and found only what he had left inside - His backpack, a change of clothes, a bar of deodorant. He allowed himself to feel glum on his walk back home. It had snowed the day before - Not the first snow of the season, but he had still felt Hyunjin’s absence - And the dusted layer of white on the grass had turned into a slippery mess of slush on the pavement. The abundance of couples kissing and showing affection bothered Jeongin in a way that they hadn’t in previous years. He was sure that the feeling would pass, but he allowed himself to sit with it, just for the rest of the day. Negative emotions weren’t something that he had to be afraid of. They weren’t something that would hurt him, not if he didn’t act on them. They were a part of being alive, and overall, being alive was a beautiful thing.

Oddly enough, the act of accepting his shitty feelings even made him feel a little better. By the time he got back home, he thought that it was possible the day could be saved after all. There had been a talk among the team about going out for a nice dinner together. Jeongin would go, and eat something delicious, and have a good time, and spare no more thoughts for what could have been, to what wasn’t there.

Jisung greeted him giddily at the door. “Jeongin-ah!” He yelled. “You’re finally here! What took you so long?”

Jeongin looked at his watch, to see if maybe he had lost an hour somewhere along the line, but - No, it was 4pm, around the same time it always was when he returned home.

“Am I late for something?” He asked, trying to remember if any concrete plans had ever actually been made. Jisung nodded vigorously.

“I’ve already been waiting for you for an hour.”

“Thirty minutes,” Felix corrected as he walked into the room. “We were at swim practice an hour ago.”

“I have been waiting all day.”

“The package didn't even arrive until this afternoon.”

“There’s a package?” This piece of information piqued Jeongin’s attention. He tried not to make assumptions, tried not to get his hopes up. (But just because he tried didn’t mean that he succeeded.)

“It’s for you!” Felix ducked out of the room and came back holding a box and a smile.

“I swear to God, you better not be opening that thing while I’m in the bathroom!” Seungmin’s shout came from the other side of the house.

“Maybe we can open it without telling him,” Changbin offered.

“I think he would figure it out. And then possibly strangle you in your sleep for it.” Felix, ever the realist. For his part, Changbin looked a little turned on by the possibility.

Jeongin felt the desire to take the package into his room, to lock the door. He wanted it to be his and his alone. But his teammates were looking at him, at it, like a pack of rabid hyenas, so he knew the chances of him stealing away for some privacy were 0%. Less than 0%. He could legitimately feel Changbin breathing down his neck.

Jeongin fingered the tape sealing it closed while he waited, savoring the weight of the package in his lap, these last few moments of not-knowing. Schrodinger’s box (Not that he thought a dead cat would be inside. That would be horrible.) As long as it stayed closed, anything was still possible. Maybe there was a love letter inside. Maybe this time, it would be signed with a name, and not just “your secret admirer.” Either way, Jeongin was fairly certain it was the last one he would ever receive. Part of him wanted to leave it closed, save it for a rainy day, for when he really needed something good. He wanted it to always be there, waiting for him. He didn’t want it to end.

His friends did not share the same sentiment. Changbin called for Seungmin to hurry up.

“Perfection takes time!” Was his reply.

Felix explained the entire story to Seita, who had also been waiting impatiently, despite not knowing what was actually going on. Jisung flopped down on the floor, splaying his arm over his eyes.

“I’m dead,” He pronounced, clearly not dead enough to shut up. “This is my corpse. I have died of anticipation.”

“Hm. Guess I need a new boyfriend, then,” Minho provoked him.

“What happened to in sickness and in health??” Jisung complained.

“One, we aren’t married. Two, it’s ‘til death do us part.’ And you’re dead.”

Jisung sat up. “I’m not dead. You’re mean. You’re really so mean.”

It was as he was kissing him anyways that Seungmin finally showed up, still zipping up his pants.

“Christ, what took you so long? Were you taking the shit of the century?” Changbin seemed to enjoy instigating him. 

Seungmin made prayer hands. “I would avoid that bathroom for the next two to three hours if you respect your own health and safety.”

Kyehoon had mentioned having to pee earlier. He now looked like he regretted several of his life choices.

“I’m here now. Party’s started.” He pointed an imposing finger at Jeongin. “Open it.”

He felt the pressure of seven pairs of eyes on him. He wanted to take his time, to make it last as long as it possibly could, but he was afraid that they might actually eat him alive if he did that.

“Oh my God. Can at least one of you look somewhere else,” He pleaded as he struggled to peel off the tape. He was beginning to feel considerable performance anxiety.

“No.” The response was unanimous and chorused from several voices in the room.

He tried his best to take it as slowly as he could feasibly get away with. He tried to block out the cacophony of seven people talking at once, which, at the very least, he had plenty of experience with. Instead of diving right in, he took each item out one by one, handling them with the utmost care. He handed them to Felix afterwards, the only person he trusted not to damage anything. The others were allowed to hover around looking, but not to touch.

Inside were several of Jeongin’s favorite candies, which he would need to keep under lock and key if he actually wanted to be the one who ate them. There was a painting - A small one, maybe 6x6 - of a snowy street, with two figures holding hands at the end of it. It looked stunningly realistic. Jeongin lightly traced his hand over the surface and could feel the layers of paint - The time and artistry that had been required to make such a masterpiece. 

At the very bottom was a letter, tucked safely inside of a sealed envelope. The handwriting didn’t quite match that of his previous ones, which threw Jeongin off a little bit. It was clearly the work of the same person, though - The loving touches that were their hallmark remained the same. The cadence, the lyrical poetry of the words, remained the same. And while it wasn’t the typical handwriting of his admirer, it still looked somewhat familiar. Where he’d seen it before, who it belonged to, remained just beyond the reaches of his memory. It would be something that he’d have to mull over later.

“Is that it?” Jisung asked, snatching the empty box before Jeongin could stop him. He shook it, as if maybe something else would materialize out of thin air. “And you’re sure that the letter wasn’t signed? We still don’t know who it is?”

There was something about the timing of it all; the story the presents told, the painting, that gave Jeongin an idea of who it was. Of who it could be. Even if the person who was coming to mind seemed impossible.

“This is awful. I can’t believe we’ll never know. I really think that this will haunt me until the end of time.” Jisung valiantly took on the disappointment and made it his own, as if he had been the one who had lost something, the one with the admirer. 

Felix rested a hand on Jeongin’s shoulder and squeezed it, acknowledging his loss.

“Wait, Ji. Stop moving.” Minho clasped Jisung’s arms together, stopping him with a manmade straightjacket. “Until today, Jeongin received everything in his locker. But this one was mailed. Is there a return address?”

The room broke out into an appreciative chorus of “Ooo”s and “Oh yeah!”s. The peanut gallery never failed to contribute.

It was a fair point to have made, but Jeongin didn’t think it would amount to anything. Surely, there wouldn’t be anything. It would be another false lead. After all of this time, that would just be too easy.

There was a clamor as Jisung flipped the box around to check. And - “There’s an address!” The statement was a victorious one. He paused for a second to actually read it. “And it’s nearby! It’s only just off campus! We have to go!”

“Road trip!” Changbin hollered, on board without hesitation. 

“It’s not a road trip if it’s just off campus.” Seungmin scuffed him on the head.

“Can I see it?” Jeongin asked softly, too quiet to be heard over the din of the room. But Felix heard him, and reached out to grab it for him. Jeongin almost didn’t believe it until he saw it with his own eyes, but sure enough, there it was - A return address. An answer he never thought he would receive. 

His friends, restless after an afternoon of waiting around, hadn’t paused in barreling forward with their plan. Shoes and jackets were pulled on, arguments over who would take what car and who was sitting where. It was only Felix who remained still, who asked Jeongin what it was that he wanted to do.

Jeongin wanted to sleep on it. He wanted to pore over the letter again, to spend the rest of his evening curled up in bed, rereading every one from the beginning. He wanted to wait until Chan and Hyunjin could be here too, so everything could come full circle. But he also really, really wanted to know who it was. He’d had a nearly four-year long waiting period. He was ready for this mystery to finally be solved.

“I’m okay,” He said, patting Felix’s hand. “Let’s go.”

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴

Jeongin was quiet during the ride, although his friends were more than loud enough to make up for it. They made their final guesses as to who it could be, even starting a wager pool.

“Hyunjin,” Seungmin insisted, steadfast over the years. “I’m right. I don’t know why you guys bother arguing with me.”

“It’s Seungmin,” Changbin countered in Hyunjin’s place.

“How can it be me? I’m right here in the car with you guys.” He nudged Minho over as he spoke, trying to claim more space in the back seat. Minho adopted a manspread in response, squishing Seungmin even further against the window.

“Yeah, but you’re smart,” Changin countered. “I wouldn’t put it past you to have sent us on a wild goose chase. Maybe we’re heading towards an empty building right now. Or a crackhouse. Seungmin, are you sending us to a crackhouse?”

“I hate you guys. Have I mentioned recently how much I hate you guys?”

Changbin and Minho ganged up on him after that comment, trying to smother him with kisses with Seungmin clawed at the window, mouthing “Help! SOS!” to the other passing cars. 

Jeongin stayed steady, keeping his eyes on the road and not on the chaos that was unfolding behind him. Fifteen minutes later, he pulled into a parking spot. Jisung, Felix, Kyehoon and Seita tumbled out of the second vehicle moments later. 

He’d kept it together during the drive, but now that they were actually here, Jeongin felt anxiety beginning to set in. What happened here, today, might not change anything. But it also had the possibility to change everything. Felix reached out and grabbed his hand, squeezed it in a show of support. The team was surprisingly quiet, reverent, speaking in hushed tones as they crossed the parking lot, making their way to the apartment building the address had led them to.

Jeongin had the sudden, intense urge to freeze in his tracks, to refuse to take another step. He wasn’t certain that he could do this after all, especially wasn’t certain if he could do it with an audience. But the audience in question were also his friends - Scratch that, his family - And while they made it harder, they also made it possible. No matter what happened, Jeongin would not be leaving this place empty-handed. He would not have to worry about traversing this world alone. So he pushed the urge away, traveled on with the forward momentum of his brothers beside him.

It wasn’t until they reached the apartment lobby that they realized a critical mistake in their plan - They would have to be buzzed up. And it was potentially not the best of plans to have all eight of them tromp up the stairwell together, to crowd into whatever small room was waiting for them at the end of it. The fact of this was accepted with relative ease and minimum complaints.

Jeongin was forced to promise, several times, to text the name of who it was the moment he found out. They promised to linger outside for a little while for support, in case things didn’t go well. His hair was ruffled, his back patted, his hands and shoulders and ass squeezed - Jeongin didn’t have to look to know that one was Minho - before he was sent away. This part of the journey he would have to go alone.

With every step that he took, his confidence grew. He would finally have the opportunity to thank them. He would graduate this year with his whole life ahead of him and no loose ends.

He double-checked the address twice before knocking on the door. For a moment, there was no response. Maybe nobody was home. Maybe the address really had been a red herring. Maybe there would never be anybody home, and Jeongin had once again barreled straight into a dead-end. Maybe he should knock one more time, just in case, just to be sure. So he did, and this time - “Coming!” Came from somewhere behind the closed door. The voice was a little muffled, from the distance and the door between them. But Jeongin knew that voice. He would know it anywhere.

Sure enough, when the door opened a few seconds later, there was Hwang Hyunjin in the flesh. His facial expression was not one of someone who had been expecting company. 

“Jeongin-ah, how nice to see you! What a surprise!” Hyunjin looked both happy and confused. “How did you get my address? Don’t you have any other Valentine’s Day plans?”

“Can I come in?” Jeongin asked, not wanting to have this conversation out in the hall.

“Yes, of course, of course.” He stepped aside to let him in.

His apartment was so undeniably him. The walls were adorned with paintings and drawings, work that Jeongin could tell he’d made himself. There were plants, and a bouquet of dried flowers. One entire wall was filled with bookshelves, adorned with stacked novels and sketchbooks, knicknacks and bottles of wine. Even though Jeongin had lived with him for three years, it felt surreal seeing Hyunjin now - Something about him occupying a different space. Something about the context.

“I received a package today.” Jeongin said, looking at a framed photograph of the team instead of at Hyunjin’s face. He allowed him the privacy of his reaction to that information. Hyunjin remained quiet, so Jeongin continued speaking. “It was from my secret admirer - Remember how we all tried so hard to figure it out? I never shared everything that I got with the team. That Valentine’s Day, when Jisung found out and shared it with everyone - That wasn’t the first gift I ever received.” He knew that Hyunjin knew this, but he kept going anyways.

“I’ve gotten better at it. The team - Being a part of it has changed me, or maybe introduced me to parts of myself I hadn’t known existed. But my first instinct is to keep things to myself, to never bother anyone, to be silent and self-sufficient. The thing about these gifts in my locker, though, about the person who left them, is that I didn’t have to say anything. They always saw when I was struggling, when I needed someone. 

“I don’t think I ever told you, ever told the team, about my childhood. It’s not something that I like to talk about, or even think about.” His throat felt thick now, even considering approaching the subject. “I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat. “It’s still hard for me.”

“You don’t have to talk about it. I understand.” From the way he’d treated him over the years, from the words he’d said, from the way he had seen - Truly seen - Jeongin, he didn’t doubt Hyunjin’s words. He continued on, though, because he needed to say this.

“My dad killed himself when I was a kid. I know that he’d lost his job, that he was struggling, but I’ll never really know why. He didn’t leave a note or anything. And - I was a difficult kid. Never listened to what anyone told me to do, cried all the time. My mom said -” This was the hardest part to choke out - “She said that it was my fault. She blamed me, told me all the time that if I’d never been born, she would still have her husband.”

Without turning around, he felt Hyunjin wrapping his arms around him, holding him close. Jeongin would not cry. He had already shed too many tears over it. He still felt the weight on his chest, though.

“Oh, Innie. It wasn’t your fault. You were just a child.”

“I know,” He said, even though knowing something and believing it - Truly believing it - Were two different things. “But I’m not sure my mom did. She hated me.” He didn’t go into details, into the way she had treated him over the years. That was his own weight to carry. “I’m only saying this because - I spent my whole life just hoping to be loved, while believing that maybe I never would be. If my own parents couldn’t love me, then maybe I was the problem. Maybe nobody ever would. So I never let myself get close to anyone. I was afraid that knowing me would hurt them, like I’d hurt my dad.”

For so much of his life, he had equated being known by him to being wounded. He let himself lean back into Hyunjin’s arms, into the miracle that that was.

“For a long time, swimming was my only refuge. I could go underwater and shut the rest of the world out. It felt like a metaphor for my life - I would keep swimming. I would keep my head above water. I spent all of this energy just trying not to drown. I thought that college would be more of the same. I thought that my whole life would be this way. But then I joined the team.”

He’d been part of his high school swim team too, but he’d always kept himself at a remove from them, kept his personal life separate. He showed up for the meets, gave his all at their practices. But he didn’t join in on their locker room talk, didn’t join them for celebratory ice cream after a win. He didn’t let himself have that, didn’t believe that he deserved it.

“Chan wouldn’t let me isolate. None of you would. And that taught me - It taught me that I could be loved. That it didn’t have to hurt. Those notes in my locker were the first letters I’d ever been written. They were physical proof for me, that my future was brighter than my past had been. I read them so many times. I remember almost every word you’ve said.” Despite his best efforts, he was starting to get choked up now. “That’s how much it means to me.”

“I’m so sorry, Innie.” Hyunjin’s head was on his shoulder. They still hadn’t made eye contact. “If I had known, I would’ve have hidden. I would’ve just told you. I should’ve just told you.”

Jeongin laid his own hands over Hyunjin’s where they were clasped across his chest. “I don’t want you to apologize. I’m trying to thank you, pabo.”

“I am an idiot, really. For being so afraid you wouldn’t like me back that I wasted all this time. I didn’t even realize I’d left a return address on the package. Or - That doing so would lead you back to me.”

“I’m glad that you left a bread crumb. I don’t regret anything. I think that everything happened exactly as it was meant to be.”

“What do you want to do now?” Hyunjin asked, a trace of insecurity still in his voice. Like maybe, even after Jeongin’s speech, he still wasn’t certain if he liked him as more than a friend or not.

“I want to kiss you,” Jeongin replied. And so he did. It was a long kiss, one that set Jeongin’s skin on fire, that allowed room for just a few regrets. “I can’t believe we could’ve been doing this the whole time,” He mumbled into Hyunjin’s mouth. 

“Guess we’ll have to do it a lot more. To make up for lost time.” A statement that Jeongin agreed with wholeheartedly.

He could’ve spent the rest of the day there, just like that, if not for the intrusion of his phone buzzing wildly in his back pocket. In the whirlwind of their confessions, he’d forgotten all about their friends, waiting in the cold. He quickly explained the situation to Hyunjin before shooting off a few rapidfire texts - “It’s Hyunjin” and “I’m going to stay here a little while 🙂.” His phone blew up immediately.

Seungmin: I told you!! Everyone owes me one million dollars now

Minho: I don’t remember making that promise

Kyehoon: I have five cents to my name. Take it or leave it.

Felix: You guys will make such a cute couple…I’m really happy for the two of you 😀Make the most of it!

Jisung: Use condoms!!

Jeongin powered down his phone. He could deal with that particular circus later. For now, he had a few ideas as to how he could thank his secret admirer.

Abruptly, he turned around and shoved Hyunjin down onto his sofa. In the same fluid motion, he sank to his knees below him.

“If you don’t mind, there’s a few things I’ve been dreaming of doing ot you.” He said, slowly undoing Hyunjin’s zipper, looking up at him for permission.

“You don’t have to feel like you have to do anything,” Hyunjin said, still so hesitant. Jeongin was sick of niceties, of wasting time.

“You have no idea how much I want to do this.”

It was sort of a universal truth that penises weren’t particularly pretty, but Jeongin felt his mouth watering at the sight of Hyunjin’s anyway, at the idea of all he could do with it. He kissed the tip before asking for consent.

“Are you okay with me blowing you off?”

“Jeongin.” They hadn’t even done anything yet, and Hyunjin’s voice was already strained. “You can do whatever you want to me.”

It was all the permission that he needed. He’d never given a blow job before, but he’d watched a shameful amount of gay porn, and from the sounds Hyunjin was making, he was on the right track. He savored the feeling of Hyunjin’s length under his fingers as he stroked him up and down, savored how hard he could make him so quickly. He still hadn’t fully wrapped his mind around the fact that Hyunjin and his secret admirer were one and the same, that he was actually able to touch him like this, that Hyunjin wanted him to. That maybe Hyunjin had spent his own nights alone, pleasuring himself with Jeongin on his mind.

The thought made Jeongin’s own cock strain against his pants, and he rubbed himself, trying to ease some of the pressure as he licked Hyunjin’s length, teasing him until he took him into his mouth. It was not a surprise that Hyunjin had a big dick. Jeongin licked the top while using his free hand to continue stroking the bottom, trying to hollow out his cheeks to fit more in, trying to remember to breathe. He could already taste Hyunjin’s precum - Salty, bitter, a little metallic, like holding a copper penny in his mouth.

Hyunjin was a hair-puller, and the slight pain of his tugs turned Jeongin on so much that it was painful. He had always somewhat assumed that blowjobs were only pleasurable to the person receiving them, but he had been wrong. His own dick throbbed, like maybe he could come from this, too. And then Hyunjin began to thrust. The pressure on the back of his throat was an unexpected one, and Jeongin gagged. Hyunjin pulled out, breathing heavily.

“What are you doing?” Jeongin coughed. 

“I thought-”

“Baby. I liked it.” And he took him again, trying not to gag this time, not really minding when he did.

“You’re taking me so well,” Hyunjin panted. “I’m so close. Maybe we should stop.”

Jeongin didn’t want to let go of him to say it, so he tried to communicate it with his eyes - That he wanted him to come. It wasn’t much longer until he did, thick ropes of cum spurting down his throat. Hyunjin had tried to pull out, but Jeongin hadn’t let him. Did he not understand that Jeongin was all in? He swallowed, wiping his mouth afterwards. Hyunjin lay his head back on the couch.

“That was a hell of a thank-you.”

“Oh, pabo.” Jeongin smiled up at him, still on his knees. “I’m not done yet.”

༘⋆♡⸝⸝💌⊹。°˖➴

For a single person, Hyunjin had a lot of kinky paraphernalia in his room. He had handcuffs, LED strip lights that washed the room in red light, flavored lube, fleshlights - A veritable kingdom. Jeongin took advantage of them all. He called it a measure of gratitude, scissoring his fingers in Hyunjin’s ass to prep him, but if he was being honest, it was once again another gift to himself. Hyunjin’s needy whine when he hit his prostate became his new favorite song.

“You’re going to kill me,” He cried when Jeongin slid a fourth finger in. “Do you know how big your hands are? Yaoi-ass hands.” He muttered.

“Yaoi hands, you say?” Jeongin asked as he pumped them in and back out again. “How much time have you spent thinking about them? Be honest.”

Hyunjin squirmed - Maybe from the question, maybe from the pleasure. “A lot.” He panted. His own hands were cuffed to the bed frame over his head.

“How many times do you think I can make you come with them?”

“A lot,” Hyunjin whimpered again.

From the looks of it, he already looked close again. Hyunjin looked desperate to touch himself, to race to the finish line. Jeongin temporarily paused his pursuit to trace Hyunjin’s jawline, ending the path at his mouth, slipping his fingers sticky with lube inside. Hyunjin didn’t hesitate to suck at them.

“Still okay?” Jeongin asked, checking in.

“I do not ever want you to stop.”

So Jeongin didn’t. He used one hand to continue fingering him and another to stroke him. This was a stunning effective technique. It took no time at all for Hyunjin’s hips to arch off of the bed, for a string of curses to accentuate his second orgasm of the afternoon. The sight of him sweaty from sex, white ropes of cum painted across his chest and stomach, was a masterpiece worthy of the Louvre. Fuck the rest of the world, though. This was for Jeongin, and for Jeongin alone.

He crawled back up to Hyunjin’s lips, kissing him through it, giving him a moment to recover, holding himself back until he was no longer quite so overstimulated.

“Still good?” He asked, rocking against him. He’d taken his shirt off, but his own pants were still on. His underwear was beginning to chafe with how wet he was.

“I swear to God, Yang Jeongin, if you do not fuck me within the next five minutes -”

Jeongin chuckled. He drank in Hyunjin’s desire as he slowly, slowly, pulled his pants down, letting the air in the room become thick with anticipation. He could see Hyunjin strain against his cuffs, desperate to touch him, to speed up the process of getting him naked. He was already getting hard again.

Jeongin liked the idea of being undressed by Hyunjin, but there would be other times for that. Hyunjin had spent the past three years leaving him anonymous letters. Now it was Jeongin’s turn to be in control, to pick what pace they went at. He wanted Hyunjin to feel as much pleasure as possible, and he needed to take it slow if he was going to last. He’d had too many close calls already. He tugged a condom on, closing his eyes and imagining Hyunjin putting it on with his mouth, savoring how luxurious it was to be able to dream about him while he was right in front of him, naked and chained and yearning for him, desperate for him. 

He knew even before he’d eased inside of him that their sex would be miraculous, and he was right. He sank all the way in and needed to pause for a moment to catch his breath, to pull himself together so it wasn’t over before it even began.

“Jeongin,” Hyunjin moaned, and by God, his name was so pretty on his lips. It wasn’t helping matters either, so Jeongin kissed him again to shut him up.

They rattled the bedframe when Jeongin began thrusting in earnest. It was the beat to a song that he never wanted to end.

“How do your arms feel?” He asked. “Do you want me to untie you?”

“Mmm. Please.” Hyunjin was so sex-drunk that he could hardly form words. “I want to hold you.”

Jeongin moved to grab the keys, and Hyunjin cried at the absence of Jeongin inside of him while he did.

“You’re so impatient,” He chided.

“I’ve waited for so long.”

“And whose fault is that, now?” Jeongin was tempted to stay out, to keep teasing him, but he wasn’t certain if he’d be able to survive that, either.

It was even better with Hyunjin’s arms wrapped around him, when they were able to move together, to work as one. He watched Hyunjin’s eyes roll back as he came again, and his hole clenching was enough to push Jeongin over the edge, too. If gay sex was sacrilegious, then why did it feel so heavenly?

For a while afterwards, they were nothing but a pile of loose limbs and heavy breathing. The afterglow threatened to send Jeongin to sleep - And was there a better place to nap than on Hyunjin’s bare chest? Hyunjin lazily played with Jeongin’s hair. He spoke before Jeongin could drift away.

“That wasn’t a one time thing, right? Are we dating now?” 

Very brave of him to ask when they had not yet washed off either of their spillage. (That would happen later, in the shower. Cleaning up was also not the only thing that would occur in there.) Jeongin pinched Hyunjin’s nipple, making him yelp.

“Yes, you are my boyfriend. Idiot.” But he said it with affection. He felt Hyunjin exhale, his entire body relaxing with the confirmation. “Were you really scared?” He asked.

  “It just seems too good to be true.”

“I get it.” Jeongin looked up for another kiss. “I feel the same way. But this is our life now. Isn’t that great?” Hyunjin kissed him back, bit his lip before pulling away.

“It is great. Life is so good.”

For the first time in his life, Jeongin had no reservations when he agreed. Life was not always fair. It tended to take as much as it gave. He had spent so much time just getting by, but now it was his time to thrive. His time to love fully, with no reservations. He looked at Hyunjin, really took him in - His doe brown eyes, dewy complexion, long hair that brushed his shoulders. Yes, Jeongin thought, nuzzling into him again. Love was a very beautiful thing indeed.