Archive of Our Own

The library café smelled like burnt espresso and the collective desperation of finals week.  Han sat wedged between Changbin and Chan at their usual corner table, laptop open to a production project he'd been staring at for the past twenty minutes without actually seeing. 

"I'm serious," Felix said, leaning forward with that earnest look that meant he'd been thinking about this for days. "We should do Christmas together this year. Like, all of us."

Hyunjin nodded immediately, already scrolling through his phone. "The cabin's free. I checked with my parents yesterday. They're not using it over the break."

"Wait, your cabin?" Jeongin perked up from where he'd been half-asleep against Seungmin's shoulder. "The one from last summer?" 

"The very same," Hyunjin confirmed. "And before anyone asks—yes, there's heat. Yes, there's running water. No, you cannot use the hot tub, Changbin, it's drained for winter."

Changbin threw his hands up. "I asked one time—"

"You asked seventeen times," Seungmin cut in flatly. "I counted."

The table erupted into the usual chaos—overlapping conversations about dates and logistics and who was driving with whom. Ha felt himself smile despite the exhaustion pressing behind his eyes. This was family, really. Had been since freshman year when Chan had caught him mid panic-spiralling in a practice room at 2 a.m. and decided to adopt him on the spot. 

It was a weird group, objectively. They'd formed less like a friend group and more like a series of unfortunate accidents that kept snowballing. 

Chan was the unofficial leader—music production major, the guy everyone came to when life got messy. He'd met Changbin in their intro production class, and the two of them had been inseparable ever since, finishing each other's beats and sentences in equal measures. Han had crashed into their orbit second semester, and suddenly they were a trio. 3RACHA as they'd called themselves. 

Felix had been Han's best friend since orientation, when they,d bonded over being the only two people who showed up to the "get to know your major" mixer in hoodies and slides. Felix was a photography major who treated his camera like an extension of his soul and had a smile that could disarm nuclear warheads.

Then came the strange part. 

Lee Minho, nicknamed Lee Know by everyone else.

Han still wasn't entirely sure how it happened. One semester he didn't exist in Han's universe, and the next he was everywhere—sitting three rows behind him in Theory of Music, making sarcastic comments loud enough for the whole lecture hall to hear.

"Teacher's pet," Lee Know had whispered once when Han raised his hand to answer a question about modal interchange. "Trying to impress someone?" 

Han had turned aorund, bewildered. "I'm just—answering the question?" 

"You look like a lost deer when you talk," Lee Know had said, tilting his head with this infuriating smirk. "All wide-eyed and confused. It's almost cute."

"Almost?" Han had shot back before he could stop himself. 

Lee Know's grin had sharpened. "Don't push your luck, prey."

that should've been it—a one-off interaction with some random literature major who appearently had a minor in dance and a major in being an assole. But Lee Know kept going. Every class. Little comments. Little looks. Han would catch him staring sometimes, and when their eys met, Lee Know would just arch an eyebrow like he'd caught Han doing something wrong. 

Meanwhile, Felix was having his own crisis. 

"I think Lee Know might have a crush on me," Felix announced one night, sprawled across Hyunjin's bedroom floor like a starfish. 

Hyunjin had looked up from his stretching routine. "Minho? Why?" 

"He keeps finding excuses to be near me. He keeps asking about Han. Like, constantly. 'What's Han like?' 'Is Han seeing anyone?' 'Does Han always look like he's about to cry in public or is that just his face?'" Felix had thrown an arm over his eyes dramatically. "I thought he was genuinely curious about Han, and using me for information you know? But I see him in class and he's literally bullying Han. What is that about?" 

"That's just Minho," Hyunjin had said, maddeningly calm. "He's a good guy. Serious, scary good at dancing, but nice when you get to know him. Dry sense of humor."

"That doesn't explain anything!" 

Eventually, Felix had done what Felix always did when confused: he'd gone to Chan. 

They'd all been at Chan and Han's apartment—Han, Chan, Changbin, Felix, and Hyunjin—when Felix brought it up. Han had been in the kitchen making ramen, but he'd heard every word. 

"This guy Lee Know," Felix had started. "He's, like, obsessed with Han but also treats him like shit? Should I be worried?" 

There'd been a pause. Then Chan's careful voice: "Han? You okay with this guy?" 

Han had poked his head around the corner, holding a wooden spoon. "Lee Know? He's fine. I think he's just messing around. It's not that deep."

"He called you a prey animal," Felix had said flatly. 

Han had shrugged. "I mean...I do kind of freeze up in class sometimes..."

"That's not the point!" 

But Han hadn't been bothered. Not really. There was something about Lee Know's teasing that felt—not mean, exactly. More like Lee Know was trying to get a reaction, see what would make Han push back. It was annoying, sure, but also kind of...fun?

He'd never said that out loud, though. That would've been weird. 

Things shifted after Hyunjin's birthday party that March. 

Hyunjin had invited Lee Know on a whim—they'd been partnered for a contemporary piece in their advanced technique class, and Hyunjin had a policy of befriending anyone who could keep up with him in the studio. 

"You should come," Hyunjin had said, casual as anything. "It's just my friends. Low-key."

Lee Know had shown up in all black, hands in pockets, with that same unreadable expression he always wore. Hyunjin had introduced him around, and somehow Lee Know had just...stayed. 

He'd clicked with Seungmin immediately. They'd spent half the party in the corner, trading deadpan observations that made each other snort into their drinks. Seungmin's best friend Jeongin—bright-eyed, practical music major, the baby of the group—had warmed up to Lee Know by the end of the night, mostly because Lee Know had defended him when Changbin tried to make him do a shot. 

"He's a child," Lee Know had said flatly. "Back off."

"I'm twenty!" Jeongin had protested. 

"Exactly. A child."

Someone, Lee Know became a fixture. He shjowed up to group hangouts. He joined their group chat. He got along with everyone—genuinely, easily. 

Except Han. 

With Han it was like Lee Know saved up all his pettiness and unleashed it in concentrated doses. They couldn't be in the same room for more than ten minutes without bickering about something. Whether pineapple belonged on pizza (Han said yes, Lee Know said Han had no taste). Whether music production or performance took more skill (a fight that got so heated Chan had to physically separate them). Whether Han's habit of leaving his socks on the practiceroom floor was "quirky" or "a crime against humanity."

"You two sound like you're about to file for divorce," Changbin had said once,exasperated. 

"Get a room," Hyunjin had added, grinning. 

Lee Know's response had been to threaten to shove them both in an air fryer. Han had laughed so hard he'd choked on his own coffee. 

The others learned quickly: don't put Han and Lee Know on the same team for game night. Don't ask them to share food. Don't leave them alone together for extended periods unless you wanted to come back to World War III fought entirely through passive-aggressive comments.

It worked. The group worked. Even if two-eights of it couldn't stand each other. 

Now, three weeks before Christmas, they were planning a cabin trip like it was the most natural thing in the world. 

"So we're doing this?" Chan asked, looking around the tbale. "Everyone's in?" 

A chorus of agreement. Even Changbin, who hated the cold. Even Jeongin, who had fmailyin teh city. Even—

"Wait," Felix said slowly. "Is Lee Know coming?" 

Hyunjin nodded. "Yeah, I already asked him. He said yes."

Han's stomach did something complicated. He took a sip of his now-cold coffee to cover it. 

"Cool," he said. "That's cool."

Seungmin shot him a look that said I see you, but thankfully kept his mouth shut. 

"Great," Chan said, clapping his hands together. "Then it's settled. December 23rd through the 26th. Hyunjin's cabin. All eight of us. It'll be fun."

"Assuming we don't kill each other," Seungmin muttered. 

Jeongin grinner. "Where's the fun in that?" 

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Three weeks later, finals were over, and Han was packed and standing in the parking lot at 7 a.m., breath fogging in the freezing air, watching Lee Know load his duffel into Chan's trunk with movements that were too careful, too deliberate. 

"You're staring," Felix murmued next to him. 

"I'm not," Han lied.

"You are."

"Shut up."

Chan was doing the driving assignments, pointing at cars and rattling off names. "Okay, so—me, Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin in my car. Hyunjin and Changbin, you're taking Hyunjin's sedan. And Han and Lee Know—you two are taking Lee Know's car."

Han's head snapped up. "What?" 

"Makes sense," Chan continued. "Lee Know's got four-wheel drive, and the forecast sayd snow, so you both can leave first to check the trails. Plut you don't drive anyway, so." He shrugged like it was obvious. 

"I can squeeze with you guys," Han said quickly. "We can—"

"Five people in my car? For three hours? Han, I love you, but no." Chan clapped him on the shoulder. "Besides, your and Minho need to work on your communication skills. Think of it as team building."

From across the parking lot, Lee Know's voice cut through the cold. "I'm not a team-building exercise, hyung."

Chan just grinned. "Then prove it. Don't kill each other before you get there."

And that was how Han ended up in the passenger seat of Lee Know's car, Lee Know behind the wheel with that focused expression he got during dance practices, as the snow started to fall and the mountain road stretched out ahead of them like a bad idea they were already committed to.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The snow came down in thick, angry sheets, the kind that swallowed headlights whole and turned the winding mountain road into a guessing game. Han gripped the door handle so hard his knuckled went white, watching Lee Know navigate the increasingly treacherous curves with steady hands and that infuriating calm he always had in a crisis. The car fishtailed once, then twice, and Han's breath caught in his throat, but Lee Know just corrected smoothly, like it was nothing. 

"You good?" Lee Know asked, not taking his eyes off the road.

"Fine," Han lied. "Totally fine."

"Your breathing says otherwise."

"I'm not—" Han forced himself to let go of the door handle. "I just don't like mountains roads in the snow."

"Could've fooled me." Lee Know's lips twitched. "You've left fingernail marks in my door.  My driving skills keeping us alive, though."

Han couldn't argue with that. Forty minutes of tense silence later—broken only by the GPS's increasingly uncertain directions and the wind howling around them—the cabin's porch light finally appeared like a lone star through the storm. 

They tumbled out of the car almost at hte same time, grabbing duffels and grocery bags, boots crunching through fresh powder up to their shins. The wind howled so loud it felt like the mountains itself was telling them to turn back, but the door was already unlocked. Chan had left the key under the stupid ceramic frog like always, and heat spilled out hte second they cracked it open. 

Han kicked the door shut behind them with his heel, cheeks flushed red fromcold and something else he refused to name. Lee Know dropped the bags in the entryway without ceremony, snow dripping off his black coat in fat drops. 

"Great," Lee Know muttered, pulling off his beanie and shaking it out like a wet cat. "Just you and me, huh?"

Han's phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out to see the group chat exploding. 

Chan: 

we're stuck at the turnoff. road's completely blocked. 

Hyunjin: 

there was a snow collapse about 2km ahead where you guys are. they're saying it'll take at least until tomorrow to clear

Felix: 

i'm so sorry guys😭😭😭

Changbin: 

this is actually insane. we were literally 20 minutes behind you

Jeongin: 

are han and minho okay???? did they make it????

 

Han typed quickly. 

Han: 

yeah we're here. cabin's fine.

Seungmin: 

"we're here" he says. like he's not trapped alone with his mortal enemy for christmas

Lee Know: 

i can see your phone from here, seungmin, watch it

Seungmin: 

you're reading over Han's shoulder aren't you

Lee Know: 

that's irrelevant

Chan: 

okay but seriously, you guys have enough food? heat's working?

 

Han glanced at Lee Know, who was already unpacking the grocery bags they'd brought. 

Han: 

yeah we're good. we're good hyung, hear works, we have food

Hyunjin: 

i'm really sorry about this. the cabin has generators if the power goes out. switch is in the basement

Felix: 

please don't kill each other

Changbin: 

^^ yeah we can't have a christmas funeral

Lee Know: 

no promises

Han: 

he's joking

Lee Know: 

am i? 

 

Han locked his phone and shoved it back in his pocket, looking up to find Lee Know watching him with an unreadable expression. 

"So," Han said, rubbing his hands together like they would magically make the awkwardness evaporate. "Guess we're snowed in. Together. For Christmas."

Lee Know arched a brow, leaning back against the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. 

"You don't have to say it like I just proposed."

Han's mouth opened, closed. "I didn't—" 

"Relax." Lee Know's voice dropped half an octave, the way it did when he was teasing but dind't want anyone else to notice. "I'm not gonna bite you, Jisung-ah."

The nickname hit like a spark. Han felt it zip down his spine. They'd been friend fro years—group chats blowing up at 3 a.m., shared practice rooms, inside jokes that made the others groan—but never this. Never just them. No buffer. No Changbin yelling "Get a room!" every time Lee Know leaned over Han's shoulder to "fix" his rap flow. No Seungmin smirking and saying they founght like an old married couple who secretly liked it. 

Han swallowed. "I know you're not gonna bite me."

Lee Know's eyes narrowed, playful. "You sure?" 

Han's face went hotter than the fireplace. He turned away too fast, nearly tripping over Lee Know's abandone boot. "I'm gonna...put stuff away."

He fled toward the hallway with his duffel like it was a shield.

Lee Know watched him go, lips twitching at the corners. He exhaled through his nose, ran a hand through his hair, and started unpacking groceries with more force than strictly necessary.

Flashback; uninvited, unhelpful, slammed into Han the second he reached the bedroom doorway:

Last summer, the eight of them crammed into a van on the way to Jeju. Han had been half-asleep against the window when Lee Know slid into the seat behind him, reached forward, and flicked his ear.

"Quit hogging the AC, princess."

Han had turned around, bleary-eyed. "I'm cold-blooded, hyung. You know this."

Lee Know had smirked, draped his hoodie over Han's head like a blanket. "There. Now you're warm and you look stupid. Win-win."

Chan had glanced back from the driver's seat. "You two need me to pull over so you can cuddle properly or…?"

The van had erupted. Han had yanked the hoodie down over his face to hide how red he went, but he'd kept it on the entire ride.

Back in the present, Han pushed open the first bedroom door and froze.

One bed.

A king, sure, but still. One bed.

Han lingered in the hallway a second too long, eyeing the master bedroom like it was the last lifeboat on the Titanic. Bigger bed, en-suite bathroom, that ridiculous view of the snow-banked pines; perfect. He took one hopeful step forward.

A black-sleeved arm shot across the doorway, palm flat against the frame. Lee Know leaned there, hip cocked, one eyebrow doing that infuriating slow arch.

“Absolutely not.”

Han pouted on reflex. “Hyung, come on. You said you’d take the couch five seconds ago.”

“That was before I remembered there's two bedroom, and how comfy the master's bedroom is!" Lee Know's smirk sharpened.

Han opened his mouth to protest, but Lee Know just straightened, dropping his arm only to point down the hall like a bouncer.

“Small room. You already put your bag in there. Go.”

Han huffed, cheeks puffing out. “Fine. But I’m stealing all the extra blankets.”

“Like I’d stop you, princess.”

The nickname followed him down the hall like a heat-seeking missile.

By the time the sky outside turned that deep indigo that only happens in the mountains, the cabin smelled like garlic and gochujang. They’d settled on kimchi jjigae because it was impossible to screw up and required exactly one pot. In theory.

In practice, the kitchen was built for maybe one and a half people. Han kept trying to reach things and Lee Know kept being exactly where Han needed to be.

Han hip-checked him reaching for the tofu. Lee Know elbowed him back reaching for the sesame oil. A tone point Hna turned too fast with a wooden spoon and nearly launched kimchi broth across the room. 

“Watch it—” Lee Know started.

Han’s sock slipped on a stray puddle of water someone (definitely Han) had spilled earlier. The world tilted. He windmilled, spoon flying, a startled squeak escaping before he could stop it.

A hand clamped onto his waist, firm and warm through his hoodie, yanking him upright and back against a solid chest.

“Jesus, Jisung.” Lee Know’s voice was low, right by his ear, laced with that familiar exasperated fondness. “How have you survived this long? Do you just fall over when no one’s looking?”

Han’s heart was sprinting so fast he was pretty sure Lee Know could feel it where his palm still rested, fingers splayed just above Han’s hipbone. He swallowed.

“I’m… graceful in spirit.”

Lee Know snorted, breath warm against the shell of Han’s ear. “You’re a danger to yourself and others.” But he didn’t let go right away. His thumb moved, just once, a tiny, almost unconscious swipe across the fabric of Han’s hoodie, before he stepped back and turned to the stove like nothing happened.

Han stood there clutching the counter, face burning, trying to remember what he’d been doing before his soul briefly left his body.

Lee Know stirred the pot, not looking at him. “Go sit down before you break something. I’ll finish this.”

“I can help—”

“I said sit.” Softer this time, almost gentle. “You’re making me nervous.”

Han obeyed, sliding onto one of the bar stools, knees weak for reasons that had nothing to do with almost falling. He watched Lee Know’s back as he cooked: broad shoulders under the black sweater, the way his hair curled a little at the nape from the steam, the precise way he tasted the stew and added one more pinch of salt without measuring.

Domestic. Terrifyingly domestic.

Han rested his chin in his hand and tried not to think about how Lee Know’s hand had felt on his waist, how it had lingered, how it had steadied him like it belonged there.

From the stove, Lee Know muttered just loud enough to be heard, “Stop staring, babygirl. Soup’s almost done.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The morning light was thin and bluish, the kind that makes everything look like it's underwater. Han woke up to the sound of Lee Know's low voice in the living room, phone pressed to his ear, murmuring "yeah" and "got it" and "thanks, hyung" to whoever was on the other end. 

When Han shuffled in, blanket cocooned around his shoulders like a depressed burrito, Lee Know was already off the call. He leaned against the kitchen counter in the same black sweater, hair sticking up in the back from sleep, looking annoyingly awake. 

"Bad news," he said, but his mouth had that tiny upward tilt it got when he was secretly pleased about something. "Roads are fucked. Like, avalanche-risk, don't-even-try-it fucked. Chan says the earliest anyone can get up here is three days. Maybe four."

Han blinked. Processed. Felt the floor tilt under his fuzzy socks. 

"Three days," he repeated, voice small.

"Minimum." Lee Know's eyes flicked over him, sharp. "We're stuck, Jisung-ah."

The nickname should've been teasing, but the way Lee Know said it; soft, almost relieved, made something twist in Han's chest. Three days. No escape routes. No buffer of seven other loud idiots. Just snow pressing against every window like it wanted in, and Lee Know looking at him like being trapped together was the best Christmas present he could've asked for. 

Han's lungs forgot how to work for a second. 

It started small: the familiar cold drip down his spine, the sudden certainty that the walls were closer than they'd been five minutes ago. His fingers went numb inside the blanket. He tried to inhale and only managed a sip of air. 

Trapped. Alone with him. He'll see everything—the mess, the cracks, how unfixable you are. The thoughts hit like a blizzard inside his head, swirling faster, colder. What if he gets tired of you by day two? What if you say something stupid, push too hard, and he pulls away like everyone else? You always ruin it. Always too much, too needy, too broken. His chest tightened, a vise squeezing tighter with every half-breath. Old memories flickered—nights alone in his dorm, the sharp sting of a blade against his skin just to feel something real, something he could control. His sleeve rode up slightly as he clutched the blanket, revealing faint lines on his inner wrist, old scars from darker winters. He yanked it down instinctively, but the sight burn in his mind. Not again. Not here. But what if—

Lee Know's expression changed in a heartbeat—from casual relief to wide-eyed alarm, like he'd just watched Han shatter right in front of him. He'd seen Han anxiouys before, fidgety during group hangs or rambling late at night, but this? This was different. Raw. Broken. Han's face was paling, eyes darting like a trapped animal, breaths coming in short, ragged gasps that sounded painful. Lee Know's stomach dropped; he'd never seen him like this, so utterly undone, and it terrified him. What the hell did I say? How do I fix this?

"Hey—" He crossed the room in three strides, hands hovering like he wasn't sure where to land, afraid one wrong touch might make it worse. "Jisung-ah. Look at me."

Han couldn't. The room was shrinking. The storm outside sounded like it was inside his head, roaring louder, drowning him. You're suffocating him already. He'll hate you for this. Weak. Pathetic. Tears pricked hot at the corners of his eyes, spilling over without permission, his whole body shaking now—violent tremors that made his teeth chatter. He backed up a step, hitting the couch, knees buckling slightly.

"I can't—" he wheezed, one hand clawing at his chest like he could rip the panic out. "I can't breath, hyung—please, I can't—make it stop—" 

"Okay, okay, you can. You're okay." Lee Know's voice dropped into that low, steady register he used when the cats were scared of thunder, but inside, his heart was hammering, worry clawing at him. He's breaking. Fuck, he's really breaking. Stay calm—don't fuck this up. He cupped Han's face without asking; thumbs pressing gently under his cheekbones, grounding, careful not to crowd too much. "Eyes on me. Right here. Please, Ji—just me."

Han's gaze snapped to him, wide and glassy, pupils blown with terror. Tears streamed down his face now, unchecked, his lips trembling as another sob escaped. He looked so small, so fragile, like one more gust of wind might shatter him completely. Lee Know's throat tightened at the sight—he wanted to wrap him up, shield him from whatever storm was raging inside, but all he could do was hold on. 

"Breathe with me. In for four, hold for four, out for six. You know this, yeah?" His own chest rose slow and deliberate, even though his pulse was racing. "copy me. Come on, baby—try for me."

Han tried. Failed—his inhale shattered into a choke, more tears falling. Tried again, his hands fisting in Lee Know's shirt now, clinging like a lifeline. Lee Know didn't move, didn't let go, just breathed like a human metronome, murmuring soft encouragements—"That's it, slow it down. I've got you, Ji. You're safe here. With me."—until Han's lungs remembered their job, the gasps easing into shaky inhales. The blanket slipped off one shoulder; Lee Know tugged it back up without looking away, his free hand rubbing Han's arm soothingly, thumb brushing over the hidden scars without knowing, just trying to warm him up. 

"There you go," Lee Know murmured after what felt like a century, his voice cracking just a little despite his best effort to stay steady. "Good boy. You're doing so good."

Han made a broken little sound at that; half laugh, half sob, and hid his face in Lee Know's chest, body still trembling but less violently now. The panic ebbed slow, leaving him shaky and mortified, the spiral echoing in his mind like aftershocks. He saw you fall apart. Now he knows how fucked up you really are.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled into Lee Know's shirt, voice muffled and raw. "I didn't mean to—god,I'm such a mess—" 

"Shut up." Gentle, but firm, Lee Know's arms wrapping fully around him now, pulling him close, one hand cradling the back of his head. "Don't apologise for that. Ever."

Han peeked out, eyes red-rimmed and hesitant. "you're...not freaking out that I just—"

Lee Know swallowed hard, worry still etched in his features—he was freaking out, internally, replaying the terror in Han's eyes, wondering what hidden pain had triggered this—but he schooled his face into something calm, reassuring. "I've seen worse," he said, which wasn't exactly true; this was new territory for both of them, and it scared him how deep Han's cracks ran, but the lie came out steady. "You're fine. We're fine." Please be fine. Tell me how to help.

The lights flickered then, one long, ominous stutter. The fridge hummed louder for a second like it was nervous too.

Han flinched hard, burrowing closer, a fresh wave of tears threatening.

Lee Know’s hand tightened, just slightly, holding him steady. “Generator’s full. We’ve got wood. We’re not dying, drama queen.” He pressed a kiss to Han’s temple, soft and lingering, pouring all his unspoken worry into it. “Not on my watch.”

They spent the rest of the day pretending everything was normal.

They made hot chocolate with too many marshmallows. They argued over which movie to watch first (Lee Know wanted Home Alone; Han wanted The Holiday because “Kate Winslet deserves rights”). They settled on Howl’s Moving Castle because it was the least Christmas-y thing on the list and neither of them wanted to think too hard about being alone on Christmas.

They sat on opposite ends of the couch, a careful two-cushion gap between them like an invisible force field. Every time the power flickered, Han’s shoulders tensed; every time, Lee Know’s pinky twitched like it wanted to reach across the gap and wasn’t sure it was allowed.

Halfway through Calcifer’s dramatic monologue about hearts, the lights dipped again (longer this time). The screen froze on Howl’s stupid beautiful face.

Han hugged a throw pillow to his chest. “If we lose power I’m going to lose my mind.”

Lee Know glanced at him, then at the space between them. He exhaled through his nose.

“C’mere.”

Han blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Lee Know patted the middle cushion once, decisive. “Before you vibrate into another dimension.”

Han hesitated for half a second, then scooted over like the pillow was magnetised. Not quite touching, but close enough that their knees brushed when he sat.

Lee Know slung an arm along the back of the couch behind Han’s shoulders (casual, totally platonic, definitely not protective). The lights flickered again, but steadier this time.

Han let his head drop sideways, just barely resting against Lee Know’s bicep. He felt the tiny inhale Lee Know took, the way he held it for a beat before letting it out slow.

Outside, the blizzard screamed against the windows like it was jealous.

Inside, the gap between them had shrunk to almost nothing, and neither of them moved to fix it.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

By dusk the cabin had teeth.

The temperature plummeted so fast it felt personal. The little space heater in the smaller bedroom gave one last pathetic wheeze and died with a click that sounded suspiciously like surrender. Han stood in the doorway wrapped in three hoodies and a blanket cape, staring at the traitor machine like it had betrayed him on purpose.

Han turned. Lee Know was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, that stupid glint in his eye half challenge, half something darker.

“Plenty of room,” he continued, tilting his head toward the master bedroom. “King bed. Working heater. Body heat’s a thing, you know.”

Han’s mouth opened before his brain caught up. “Yes. Fine. Okay.”

The words tumbled out too fast, too eager. He felt his ears go scarlet.

“I mean,” he tried again, voice pitching higher, “only because I don’t want to freeze to death and have my corpse discovered in your stupid ugly guest room, not because I want to or anything—”

Lee Know’s grin was slow and sharp. “Sure, princess. Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Bedtime was its own special circle of hell.

They took turns in the bathroom like two idiots who’d never seen another human undressed. Han went first, brushing his teeth so vigorously he nearly chipped a molar, then practically sprinted to the bed in his oversized sleep shirt and fuzzy socks, diving under the covers like they could shield him from the mortification currently eating him alive.

The room was dark when Lee Know came in just the orange glow from the fireplace down the hall bleeding under the door. Han heard the soft rustle of clothes, the quiet pad of bare feet, the mattress dipping as Lee Know slid in on the far side.

A careful foot of space between them. Maybe more.

Then Han’s feet found Lee Know’s shins.

“Jesus fuck,” Lee Know hissed, jerking. “Your feet are ice blocks. Do you have circulation?”

“They’re cold-natured,” Han whispered back, indignant. “Like the rest of me. You try having blood.”

Lee Know shifted. “Move them or lose them.”

Han, because he was Han, wiggled his toes against Lee Know’s calf exactly once. Just to be annoying.

Big mistake.

Lee Know lunged.

It started playful a hand clamping around Han’s ankle, a growled “that’s it”, Han squeaking and trying to yank free, both of them laughing under their breath so it wouldn’t carry down the hall that didn’t exist. Han twisted, blanket tangling around his legs, and somehow ended up half on top of Lee Know, wrists pinned to the mattress on either side of Lee Know’s head.

The laughter died instantly. 

They were nose to nose, chests heaving, the air between them suddenly too thin. Han could feel Lee Know's breath against his lips, warm and quick. Could see the way Lee Know's pupils had blown wide, swallowing the brown until only a thin ring remained. Could feel the exact second Lee Know's grip on his wrists loosened; not pushing him away, just...holding. 

Han's heart was a trapped bird against his ribs. 

Lee Know's gaze dropped to Han's mouth for one devastating second. 

Then he swore under his breath, low and rough, and rolled away so fast the cold rushed in where his body had been. 

Han lay there staring at the ceiling, pulse thundering in his ears, every inch of skin tingling like Lee Know’s hands were still on him.

On the other side of the bed, Lee Know dragged a hand down his face and muttered into the dark, “Go to sleep, Jisung.”

Han pulled the blanket up to his burning cheeks and whispered a very tiny, very wrecked, “Okay.”

Neither of them moved back to the middle.

The space between them felt like a live wire.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Morning arrived like a hangover nobody had earned yet.

Han woke up, stared at the ceiling for a solid five minutes, then rolled out of bed like it was on fire. Lee Know was already gone from the mattress, the sheets barely rumpled on his side, proof he’d slept as far on the edge as humanly possible. Han hated how much that stung.

They moved around each other like magnets with the same charge. Breakfast was silent except for the clink of spoons against cereal bowls and the occasional forced “pass the milk.” Eye contact lasted 0.3 seconds max before one of them found something fascinating on the floor or out the window or literally anywhere else.

By noon the sky was the color of wet cement and the silence had teeth.

Han found the whiskey in the cupboard above the fridge (someone’s emergency stash, probably Hyunjin’s). He held it up like a peace offering.

“Hot toddies?” he asked, voice cracking on the second syllable.

Lee Know glanced over from where he was aggressively chopping onions for literally no reason. His hair was still messy from sleep, and he had a tiny red mark on his collarbone where Han’s wrist had been pinned last night.

God.

“Yeah,” Lee Know said, clearing his throat. “Sure.”

One hot toddy turned into three. The onions never made it into anything; they just sat on the cutting board looking sad.

By the time the sun gave up and sank behind the mountains, they were on the couch again, knees almost-but-not-quite touching, a bottle of red open on the coffee table and two empty soju bottles rolling around on the rug like casualties.

The alcohol tasted like permission.

They started safe: remembering the time Changbin tried to sled down the dorm stairs on a cafeteria tray

and ended up in the ER. The time Seungmin tricked Jeongin into eating wasabi and filmed the whole thing in 4K. The time Chan accidentally called their manager “hyung” on a live broadcast and nearly gave the man a stroke.

Laughter came easier. Shoulders loosened. The space between them shrank to half a cushion.

Lee Know poured another shot, the green bottle glugging slow. He didn’t hand it over right away, just rolled it between his palms, watching the liquid swirl.

“You remember that one track you wrote,” he said suddenly, voice low, almost lost under the crackle of the fireplace. “The one you wouldn’t let anyone hear the full lyrics to. Said it was ‘too raw.’”

Han’s stomach dropped straight through the floorboards.

He laughed, too loud. “Which one? I have, like, seventy of those.”

Lee Know’s eyes flicked up, steady. “The one you played for us at 3 a.m. in the studio last winter. Voice all shaky, fingers bleeding from the strings. You looked like you were ripping your own heart out through your throat.”

Han reached for the soju and missed the first grab. His fingers felt thick.

“It wasn’t about anyone,” he lied, knocking the shot back without waiting for Lee Know. The burn felt good. Cleansing. “Just… vibes.”

Lee Know hummed, a sound that said he wasn’t buying it for a second. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the firelight cutting sharp shadows across his face.

“Funny,” he murmured. “Because the working title was ‘Minhyung-ah’ for, like, two whole weeks before you changed it.”

Han choked on air.

The room spun gently, not from the alcohol (well, not only from the alcohol). Lee Know was watching him with that unreadable look again, the same one from last night when their faces had been too close and the air had tasted like want.

Han grabbed the nearest bottle (red this time) and drank straight from the neck just to have something to do with his mouth that wasn’t answering.

Lee Know’s lips curved, soft and dangerous.

“Interesting choice of vibes, Jisung-ah.”

Lee Know was sprawled sideways across the armchair now, legs dangling over one armrest, phone dangling from his fingers like he was trying to hypnotise himself with it.

“Everything on streaming needs a blood sacrifice to log in,” he grumbled. “And I’m not giving Hyunjin my Netflix password again just so he can judge my watch history from three provinces away.”

Han, curled into the opposite corner of the couch with his third (fourth?) glass of whatever was left, snorted. “You watched all of Bridgerton season two in one sitting, don’t even lie.”

“That was research.” Lee Know flicked him a lazy glare, then kept scrolling. His thumb paused. “Oh. Here we go.”

He tapped something, squinted, tapped again. “Connection Games. Five-star reviews. ‘Deepen your bonds in minutes!’ Sounds like drunk people bullshit. Perfect.”

Han leaned over the gap between them, hair flopping into his eyes. “Is it the one with the little cartoon hearts exploding everywhere?”

“Probably.” Lee Know was already downloading. “We’ve got nothing but time and bad decisions. You in?”

Han clinked his glass against Lee Know’s phone. “Obviously.”

The app loaded with soft chimes and a pastel splash screen that made them both groan. Lee Know propped the phone on the coffee table between them so they could both see.

First question popped up in curly font:

Share your very first impression of the other person.

Lee Know snorted. "You go."

Han rolled his eyes, cheeks warm from wine. "Fine. Um...I thought you were scary. Liek, hot scary. You walked into the lecture hall late, didn't apologise, just stared at the professor like you were daring him to say something. I spent the whole semester convinced you were secretly in the mafia."

Lee Know barked a laugh. "That's because the professor was a dick. Also I was hungover." He leaned forward, elbows on knees. "I thought you were gonna be a teacher's pet. First day you had colour-coded notes and a pencil case with like twelve compartments. I hated you on sight."

"Rude. Accurate, but rude."

Next question. 

What's your favourite memory together?

They both opened their mouths at the same time, then stopped.

“You pick,” Han said quickly.

Lee Know rubbed the back of his neck. “That night after finals when we missed the last bus and walked across the river eating convenience-store kimbap in the rain. You kept trying to share your umbrella even though it was broken and we both ended up soaked.”

Han’s smile went soft around the edges. “You gave me your hoodie. I still have it, by the way.”

“I know,” Lee Know muttered, looking away too fast.

The app dinged again, tone shifting just a little.

What's something you've never told them?

Silence stretched, thick as the snow outside.

Lee Know cleared his throat. “Pass?”

“Pass,” Han echoed, a little too loud.

The next one made them both freeze.

Describe what you find most attractive about the other person; physical or not.

Lee Know stared at the screen like it had personally insulted his mother.

Han laughed nervously. “We can skip—”

“No skipping, we already skipped the last one, the rules says we're only allowed one skip per game.” Lee Know’s voice came out rough. He took a long sip of whatever was in his glass, then set it down hard. “Fine. You’ve got… stupid pretty eyes. Like, unfairly pretty. When you laugh they do that crescent moon thing and it’s— whatever. Your turn.”

Han’s mouth opened. Closed. He could feel his pulse in his throat.

“You’re… steady,” he said finally, voice barely above the fireplace. “Like, everyone else is chaos and you’re just… there. Calm. Makes me feel—” He stopped himself, shrugged too hard. “Safe, I guess.”

Lee Know looked at him for a long second, something unreadable flickering across his face.

The app didn’t wait.

If you could change one thing about your relationship, what would it be? 

The question hung in the air like smoke.

Neither of them moved.

The screen glowed brighter, like it knew exactly what it was doing.

Make eye contact for thirty seconds without looking away. 

Lee Know barked a laugh that sounded more like a cough. “You’ve gotta be kidding.”

Han’s voice was small. “It’s the rule, hyung.”

They shifted on the couch until they were facing each other properly, knees almost touching. The timer started ticking in soft pink numbers.

One second. Two.

Han’s eyes were huge, glassy from the alcohol and something else. Lee Know’s were darker than usual, pupils blown wide. Neither blinked.

Ten seconds in and Han’s breath started shaking. At fifteen Lee Know’s jaw flexed. Twenty seconds and Han’s bottom lip trembled like he might actually cry or laugh or bolt. Lee Know didn’t let him. He just stared, steady, like he was memorising every fleck of brown in Han’s irises.

The timer dinged.

They both exhaled at the same time, looking anywhere else.

“Fuck,” Lee Know muttered, dragging a hand through his hair.

Next prompt slid up like it had been waiting its turn.

Place your hand on their heart and share one truth. 

 

Han made a strangled noise. “This is definitely not the party game version.”

“Pretty sure we accidentally downloaded foreplay,” Lee Know said, but he was already moving, scooting closer until their knees knocked. He reached out, slow enough that Han could have stopped him. Han didn’t.

Lee Know’s palm settled over Han’s chest, right above the frantic rabbiting of his heart. His hand was warm even through the hoodie.

Han swallowed audibly, then lifted his own shaking hand and pressed it flat against Lee Know’s sternum. Under his palm, Lee Know’s heart was racing too.

“Your truth,” the phone whispered.

Han closed his eyes. “I wrote that song about you,” he said, voice cracking down the middle. “The one you asked about. Every line. I’ve been in love with you for two years and it’s been fucking killing me because you act like you hate me half the time and flirt the other half and I never know which is real and I just— I want you so much it hurts and I’m sorry—”

The words spilled out like he’d yanked the cork on something he’d been shaking for years.

Lee Know went completely, terrifyingly still. His hand stayed on Han’s heart, but his fingers curled slightly, like he needed to hold on.

Han’s eyes flew open, panic flooding in behind the confession. “Hyung—”

The phone pinged again, bright and merciless.

Kiss the person across from you.

 

They both stared at the screen.

Then at each other.

The room was so quiet Han could hear the snow hitting the windows.

Lee Know’s eyes flicked from the glowing screen back to Han, the question raw in the air between them.

“…You want to?” he asked, voice scraped low, almost afraid of the answer.

Han couldn’t speak. His head gave the tiniest, shakiest nod, lips parted like he’d already run out of oxygen.

That was all it took.

Lee Know surged forward, one hand sliding into Han’s hair, the other gripping his jaw, and then they were kissing like the world was ending outside and this was the only warm place left. It wasn’t gentle. It was teeth and tongue and years of almosts finally detonating. Han made a broken sound into Lee Know’s mouth, fingers scrabbling at his shoulders, fisting the fabric like he was terrified Lee Know might vanish if he let go.

Lee Know answered by hauling him closer, pressing him down into the couch cushions with the full weight of his body. Han went willingly, spine arching, legs parting so Lee Know could slot between them like he belonged there. Hands shoved under clothes Han’s cold fingers raking up Lee Know’s back, Lee Know’s palms skating over Han’s ribs, thumb brushing a nipple and making Han whimper right into the kiss.

The phone kept pinging, obsecene little chimes neither of them heart.

Touch here. Bite here. Tell them how you want them.

they were past instructions. 

Han’s head fell back against the armrest, throat exposed, and Lee Know chased it with his mouth, sucking a mark just under his jaw that would be impossible to hide tomorrow. Han’s hips rolled up on instinct and Lee Know groaned, low and wrecked, grinding down hard enough that Han saw stars.

It was perfect. It was everything they’d pretended not to want for years.

Then the clock on the wall chimed midnight sharp, real, sobering.

Lee kNow froze first. Han felt it, the sudden stillness, the way Lee Know's hands stopped roaming and just gripped, like he was holding them both back from the edge.

They broke apart with a wet sound, foreheads still touching, breathing each other's air. 

Han's eyes were huge, pupils blown, lips swollen and red. Lee Know looked like he'd been hit by a truck; hair wrecked, mouth bruised, a faint tremor in the arms still caging Han in. 

"...Fuck," Lee Know whispered, the word shaking. 

Reality slammed into Han like cold water. 

This was Lee Know. His friend. His hyung. The person he’d just spilled his stupid, reckless feelings to without thinking—words that had tumbled out in the heat of the kiss like they’d been waiting years to escape—and who had kissed him back like he was starving, like he wanted it too. But now the haze was lifting, and tomorrow they still had two more days trapped here, and what if it was just the game, just the tension, just the isolation making Lee Know react? What if tomorrow he regretted it? What if he looked at Han with that careful distance again, the way he did when Han got too clingy in group settings, and Han had to pretend it didn’t gut him every time?

Han’s chest seized. The air felt too thick, too hot. His skin prickled like it didn’t fit anymore.

He scrambled out from underneath Lee Know so fast he nearly fell off the couch, knees knocking painfully against the coffee table. Lee Know’s hands hovered in empty air where Han had been a second ago, fingers curling slowly like he didn’t know what to do with them now.

“I—I need—” Han couldn’t finish the sentence. His throat closed up, the words tangling into something ugly and desperate. I need to get away before you realise what you just did. Before you see how much I meant it and how little you probably did.

He bolted, bare feet slapping against the cold hardwood, blanket abandoned somewhere on the floor. He didn’t look back—couldn’t—because if he saw Lee Know’s face, confusion or pity or worse, regret, he’d shatter right there.

He didn’t stop until the bedroom door slammed behind him, the click of it shutting sounding too loud, too final. He slid down the wood until he hit the floor, back pressed hard against the door like he could block the world out. Chest heaving, heart trying to punch its way out of his ribs, tears already burning hot down his cheeks.

Stupid. So fucking stupid. The spiral started immediately, vicious and familiar, dragging him under like quicksand. You ruined it. You always ruin everything. One kiss—one perfect, impossible kiss—and you had to open your mouth and confess like some lovesick idiot. He was just caught up in the moment. The game, the wine, the snow making everything feel unreal. Tomorrow he’ll wake up and remember you’re just Han—annoying, needy Han who clings too hard and feels too much—and he’ll wish it never happened.

His hands shook as he pulled his knees to his chest, nails digging into his shins hard enough to leave marks. Old urges flickered at the edges of his mind—sharp, tempting, the memory of cold metal against skin and the brief, shameful relief it used to bring. He pressed his sleeves over his wrists instinctively, feeling the faint ridges of scars beneath the fabric, hidden reminders of every time he’d been too much for someone. Not again. You promised yourself not again. But the thought whispered anyway: Just once. Just to quiet this. Just to punish yourself for hoping.

He bit down on his own wrist to stifle the sob that tore out of him, tasting salt and skin, rocking slightly in the dark. The storm howled outside, rattling the windows like it wanted to get in and finish what his head had started.

In the living room, the phone gave one last lonely ping and finally went dark.

Lee Know stayed frozen on the couch for a long moment, staring at the empty space where Han had been, lips still tingling, heart pounding so hard it hurt. The sudden absence felt like a physical blow. He could still taste Han on his tongue, feel the ghost of his body arching up beneath him, hear the broken little confession that had lit him up inside.

And then Han had run—like he was scared of him. Or of what they’d done.

“Shit,” Lee Know breathed into the silence, dragging a hand through his hair. Worry twisted sharp in his gut. He’d seen Han flustered before, seen him anxious, but never like this—never bolting like he couldn’t get away fast enough. What if he’d pushed too far? What if Han hadn’t really wanted it and only said yes because the game told him to?

He stood slowly, legs unsteady, and took one hesitant step toward the hallway. Then stopped. If he followed now, would it make it worse? Would Han feel cornered?

But leaving him alone with whatever was happening in his head felt wrong too.

In the end he stayed in the living room, close enough to hear if Han needed him, far enough not to crowd. He sank onto the floor by the couch, back against it, and listened to the storm—and to the muffled, heart-wrenching sounds of Han falling apart behind the closed door.

Tomorrow was going to be brutal.

But Lee Know wasn’t going anywhere. Not now. Not ever, if Han would let him stay.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Han woke up to winter sunlight stabbing through the curtains and the immediate, full-body memory of Lee Know’s tongue in his mouth.

He was still in yesterday’s hoodie, one sock missing, hair doing something that probably qualified as a hate crime. The other side of the bed was cold and smooth, like Lee Know had vanished hours ago or maybe never came to bed at all. The thought made Han want to burrow under the duvet and hibernate until spring.

He lasted forty-three minutes.

First it was the bathroom. Then it was the fact that his stomach was eating itself. Then it was the crushing certainty that if he stayed in here any longer he would actually dissolve into a puddle of shame and cease to exist.

He cracked the bedroom door like a fugitive.

The smell of eggs and toast drifted down the hallway, warm and merciless.

Lee Know was at the stove, back turned, moving with that deliberate calm he always used when he was pretending everything was fine. He was wearing the same black sweater from last night, sleeves pushed up, and Han had to physically stop himself from staring at the faint red scratch marks on the back of his neck that definitely hadn’t been there two days ago.

Han tried to ninja across the open-plan living room to the bathroom. He made it three steps.

“I made coffee,” Lee Know said without turning around. His voice was neutral, but his shoulders were stiff. “And there’s an extra toothbrush in the drawer. Figured you’d need it.”

Han died a little more.

He used the bathroom, splashed freezing water on his face until the mirror stopped looking like someone who’d made out with his best friend and then sprinted away like a coward, and eventually shuffled into the kitchen because starvation won.

They ate at the counter, two stools, one empty one between them like a demilitarised zone.

The silence was so loud it had its own pulse.

Lee Know kept his eyes on his plate, cutting his toast into perfect soldiers. Han pushed eggs around and tried to disappear into his hoodie strings.

Finally Lee Know set his fork down with a soft clink.

“About last night—”

“It was the alcohol!” Han blurted, words tumbling over each other. “And that stupid app, seriously, who designs that shit, it’s like emotional warfare, I was just— we were drunk, it didn’t mean anything, like obviously I would never—”

“Jisung.” Lee Know’s chair scraped back so fast it made Han flinch.

Han’s heart stopped. He thought Lee Know was leaving just walking out, done with the mess Han had made of everything.

Instead Lee Know rounded the counter in three strides and suddenly Han’s back was against the cabinets, Lee Know’s hands braced on either side of his hips, caging him in.

Han’s breath caught.

“Stop,” Lee Know said, low and steady, eyes locked on Han’s. “Just— stop. We need to actually talk about this.”

Han swallowed, trapped between cold granite and Lee Know’s body heat, the same position they’d been in last night only vertical now and a thousand times more terrifying.

Lee Know didn’t move back. He didn’t move forward either. He just waited, close enough that Han could see the faint bruise blooming on his collarbone, the one Han had put there.

Han’s voice came out a broken whisper. “Okay.”

Han tried to speak. His mouth opened, closed, opened again. Nothing came out except a tiny, wrecked exhale. 

Lee Know's eyes searched his face, close enough that Han could see the faint tremor in his lashes. 

"Did you mean it?" Lee Know asked, so quietly it barely counted as sound. "What you said on the couch. All of it."

Han's heart was pouding so hard he was dizzy. He nodded once, small, terrified. 

"Yeah," he rasped. "Every word."

Lee Know's breath hitched. Something cracked open in his expression; relief, fear, hunger all at once. 

“I’ve been in love with you for longer,” he said, voice rough. “Kept thinking if I teased you enough you’d hate me properly and I could get over it. Didn’t work.”

Han made a broken little sound that might’ve been a laugh or a sob.

Then Lee Know kissed him.

It wasn’t like last night. Last night had been wildfire. This was deliberate: slow, devastating, Lee Know licking into his mouth like he was memorising the taste now that he finally had permission. Han melted against the counter, hands fisting in Lee Know’s sweater, knees threatening to give out.

Lee Know pulled back just enough to rest their foreheads together.

“Bedroom,” he murmured against Han’s lips. “Now.”

They didn’t make it gracefully. Han’s hoodie hit the floor in the hallway. Lee Know’s sweater followed somewhere by the couch. By the time the bedroom door slammed shut behind them they were down to underwear and frantic mouths, hands shaking with the difference between drunk desperation and sober want.

Lee Know pressed Han gently onto the bed, crawling over him, eyes dark.

“Tell me if you need me to stop,” he said, voice low, serious. “Any time.”

Han shook his head fast. “Don’t stop. Please.”

Lee Know kissed him again, slower, deeper, then trailed his mouth down Han’s throat, mapping every inch like he’d been dreaming about it for years. Han arched under him, gasping when Lee Know’s teeth scraped over his collarbone, fingers digging into Lee Know’s shoulders.

“Hyung—” Han’s voice cracked. “Want you so much.”

Lee Know groaned against his skin, hands sliding down to grip Han’s hips, thumbs pressing into the hollows like he needed to feel bone. “You have me.”

Clothes disappeared completely. Skin on skin for the first time, and it was overwhelming: Lee Know’s warmth everywhere, the drag of his mouth down Han’s chest, the way Han’s thighs fell open without hesitation when Lee Know settled between them.

Lee Know kissed his way down Han’s body like he was mapping territory he’d only ever been allowed to look at from a distance. Every press of lips was deliberate: the hollow of Han’s throat, the sharp jut of a collarbone, the soft skin just beneath his ribs that made Han twitch and laugh breathlessly until Lee Know bit down gently and turned the laugh into a moan.

When he reached the waistband of Han’s boxers, he paused, looking up the length of Han’s trembling body.

“Still good?” he asked, voice rough but careful.

Han nodded so hard his head nearly left the pillow. “So good. Hyung, please—”

Lee Know hooked his fingers under the elastic and dragged the fabric down slow, watching Han’s cock spring free, flushed and leaking against his stomach. Han whined at the cool air, hips lifting instinctively. Lee Know pressed a kiss to the sharp bone of his hip, then lower, mouthing along the crease of his thigh until Han was babbling nonsense.

“Hyung, hyung, touch me—”

“I am,” Lee Know murmured against his skin, lips brushing the base of Han’s cock before he pulled back entirely, ignoring Han’s desperate cry. “Be patient, baby.”

He grabbed the lube from the nightstand (thank god someone had packed responsibly) and slicked his fingers generously. Han’s legs fell open without hesitation, knees bent, feet planted on the sheets. Lee Know settled between them, one hand stroking up Han’s thigh, grounding.

“Gonna take my time,” he warned, voice low. “Want you ready.”

The first finger slid in easy; Han was already relaxed from kissing, from wanting. Lee Know watched his face the entire time, eyes dark, drinking in every flutter of lashes, every parted-lip gasp. When Han pushed back against his hand with a soft “more,” Lee Know gave it to him: second finger, slow scissor, crook just right to brush that spot that made Han’s back arch clean off the mattress.

“Fuck— there, hyung, right there—”

Lee Know’s own breath was coming faster now, pupils blown wide as he worked Han open with steady, relentless precision. Every time Han’s moans pitched higher, he slowed just enough to keep him from tipping over, drawing it out until Han was a writhing, sweat-damp mess, cock dripping onto his stomach, thighs trembling.

“Hyung, please,” Han sobbed, hands scrabbling at the sheets. “I’m ready, I’m so ready, want you inside me—”

Lee Know added a third finger just to hear Han keen, high and broken, hips rolling down to chase the stretch. Only when Han was openly crying with need did Lee Know pull his hand free, slicking himself with lube until he was shining, pressing Han’s knees wider.

He lined up, the blunt head of his cock nudging against Han’s entrance, and paused.

“Look at me,” he said, voice shaking with restraint.

Han’s eyes fluttered open, glassy and wrecked. Lee Know pushed in slow (agonisingly slow), watching Han’s face the whole time: the way his lips parted on a silent gasp, the flutter of his throat as he swallowed, the way his body yielded inch by inch until Lee Know was fully seated, hips flush against Han’s ass.

They both stilled.

Han’s chest heaved, inner muscles fluttering around the thick stretch, overwhelming and perfect. Lee Know dropped forward onto his elbows, forehead pressed to Han’s, sweat dripping from his temple.

“Fuck, Jisung,” he whispered, voice absolutely destroyed. “You feel— so fucking good, so tight, I can’t—”

Han clenched deliberately and Lee Know’s hips snapped forward, punching a sharp cry out of Han’s throat.

“Move,” Han gasped, nails raking down Lee Know’s back. “Please move, hyung—”

Lee Know did.

Slow at first (long, deep strokes that dragged over every sensitive spot inside Han until he was sobbing into Lee Know’s shoulder), then faster when Han started begging in broken fragments: harder, please, hyung, need it, love you, love you—.

Lee Know hooked one of Han’s legs higher over his hip, changing the angle until Han screamed, cock trapped between their stomachs, leaking steadily. Every thrust now punched a wrecked moan out of him, his voice climbing higher and higher until it cracked.

“Close—” Han choked, head thrown back, throat bared. “Hyung, I’m—”

“Yeah,” Lee Know growled against his neck, teeth scraping skin. “Come for me, baby—”

One more thrust, perfectly aimed, and Han came undone: body locking tight, cock pulsing hot and wet between them, a shattered cry tearing out of him as he clenched hard around Lee Know.

Lee Know followed seconds later, burying himself deep and spilling with a low, wrecked groan, hips stuttering as he rode it out, filling Han in pulsing waves.

They stayed like that (Lee Know’s full weight pressing Han into the mattress, both of them trembling through the aftershocks, breathing each other’s air).

Eventually Lee Know eased out carefully, tying off the condom and tossing it aside before collapsing half on top of Han, dragging him close like he was afraid Han might disappear.

Han just curled into him, boneless and blissed-out, nuzzling into Lee Know’s neck with a tiny, satisfied sound.

Outside, the snow kept falling.

Inside, neither of them was cold anymore.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Morning crept in pale and quiet, the kind of light that makes everything look like it’s underwater. Han surfaced slowly, warm, too warm, limbs tangled with another body in a way that felt both brand-new and inevitable.

Lee Know’s arm was slung heavy across his waist, palm flat against his stomach, thumb tracing lazy half-circles in his sleep. Their legs were knotted together under the duvet, Han’s back pressed to Lee Know’s chest, the steady rise and fall of Lee Know’s breathing stirring the fine hairs at his nape.

For one heartbeat Han’s brain short-circuited: holy shit we had sex we had sex and I told him I loved him and he said it back and what if he woke up regretting—

Then soft lips brushed the slope of his shoulder, a sleepy, deliberate kiss right over the faint bruise Lee Know had left the night before.

“Stop thinking so loud,” Lee Know mumbled, voice gravel-rough with sleep. He tightened his arm, pulling Han closer until there was no space left between them. “S’too early for spiralling.”

Han let out a shaky laugh that turned into a sigh when Lee Know nosed along the shell of his ear, pressing another kiss there, then the hinge of his jaw, slow and lazy like they had all the time in the world.

“Hi,” Han whispered, because it felt too big to say anything else.

“Hi yourself,” Lee Know answered against his skin. His hand slid lower, fingertips tracing the line of Han’s hip bone, feather-light. “You okay?”

Han nodded, turning in the circle of Lee Know’s arms until they were chest to chest. Lee Know’s hair was a disaster, sticking up in every direction, and there was a faint red mark on his throat that Han had zero memory of putting there. It made something warm and possessive bloom in his stomach.

“More than okay,” Han said, voice small. “Just… checking this is real.”

Lee Know’s answer was a kiss—soft, lingering, morning-sweet. When they parted he rested their foreheads together.

“Real,” he murmured. “And mine, if you still want.”

Han answered by sliding a thigh between Lee Know’s, pressing closer until they both inhaled sharply at the contact. They were already half-hard, sleepy and sensitive, bodies remembering last night in perfect detail.

This time was different.

Lee Know rolled them so Han was on his back, but he didn’t pin him—just hovered, elbows braced on either side of Han’s head, kissing him slow and deep until Han was melting into the mattress. Every touch was exploratory: Lee Know’s mouth tracing the line of Han’s collarbone, the dip of his sternum, the soft skin just above his nipple, cataloguing every hitch of breath, every tiny shiver.

“Tell me what you like,” Lee Know whispered against his ribs. “Want to learn you properly.”

Han’s answer was a breathless laugh and a roll of his hips. “Everything you do. Just— slower this morning. Want to feel all of it.”

Lee Know hummed, pleased, and spent what felt like hours mapping Han’s body with lips and tongue and careful fingers. When he finally wrapped a hand around Han’s cock, the stroke was languid, thumb swiping gently over the head on every upstroke until Han was trembling, hands fisted in the sheets.

“Hyung,” Han breathed, “touch yourself too— want to watch.”

Lee Know’s eyes went dark. He shifted to kneel between Han’s spread thighs, slicking his own cock with one hand while keeping the rhythm on Han steady and maddening. The sight of it—Lee Know’s head tipped back slightly, throat working on every breath, the flex of his forearm—sent heat pooling low in Han’s belly.

“Come here,” Han whispered, tugging weakly until Lee Know leaned down again, mouths meeting messy and open. They moved together like that—hands stroking in tandem, hips rocking in tiny, aborted thrusts, sharing air and whispered filth.

“Love how you sound,” Lee Know rasped against his lips. “Love how you open up for me— fuck, look at you—”

Han came first, quieter this time, a long, shuddering exhale against Lee Know’s mouth, spilling over Lee Know’s fist and his own stomach. Lee Know followed moments later, groaning softly into Han’s neck, adding to the mess between them in warm pulses.

After, they didn’t bother cleaning up yet. Lee Know just grabbed the duvet, pulled it over both of them, and tucked Han against his chest like he was something precious.

Han traced idle patterns over Lee Know’s heart, feeling it slow to match his own.

“So,” he said eventually, voice sleepy-soft, “boyfriends?”

Lee Know pressed a kiss to his temple. “Boyfriends. And next Christmas we’re getting a room that isn’t in the middle of nowhere with seven nosy idiots trying to crash it.”

Han laughed, bright and unguarded. “Deal.”

Outside, the snow kept falling, soft and endless.

Inside, they stayed wrapped around each other, trading lazy kisses and quiet promises, learning the shape of morning-after like it was the first day of the rest of their lives.

The storm had settled into a gentle, steady snowfall, the kind that muffled the world outside and made the cabin feel like its own tiny universe. 

They never really left the bubble of the bed until hunger became impossible to ignore. When they finally padded into the kitchen, Han was wearing Lee Know's black hoddie; the sleeves so long his hands disappeared, and a pair of Lee Know's sweatpants cinched tight at the waist.  Lee Know took one look at himand had to kiss him against the fridge for a solid minute before they could even think about food. 

“Pancakes,” Lee Know declared, steering Han toward the counter with both hands on his hips. “And this time you’re learning how to flip them without launching half the batter onto the ceiling.”

Han pouted, bumping his shoulder. “That happened once.”

“Twice,” Lee Know corrected, pulling out the mixing bowl. “And the second time it hit Changbin in the face.”

They moved around each other easily now, no more awkward orbiting. Lee Know stood behind Han at the stove, arms caging him in, chin hooked over his shoulder as he guided Han’s wrist through the perfect flick of the pan. When the first pancake landed perfectly golden, Han let out a triumphant little whoop that earned him a kiss pressed to the spot just below his ear.

Between measuring flour and cracking eggs, the conversation drifted back slow, careful, but inevitable.

“You remember that camping trip two years ago?” Han asked, licking batter off his thumb. “When it poured all night and we ended up sharing that tiny tent?”

Lee Know snorted, flipping a pancake with unnecessary flair. “You mean the one where you pretended you were cold just to steal all my body heat?”

“I was cold,” Han protested, cheeks pink. “You just… didn’t move away. I thought maybe… but then the next morning you acted like nothing happened.”

Lee Know’s movements slowed. He set the spatula down, turning Han gently by the waist until they were face-to-face.

“I spent the whole night trying not to get hard with you curled up against me,” he admitted, voice low. “Then I panicked and spent the next week being extra mean to you so you wouldn’t notice.”

Han’s mouth fell open. “That’s why you told everyone I snored like a chainsaw?”

“You do snore like a chainsaw,” Lee Know said, but his ears were red. “I was covering.”

Han laughed, soft and disbelieving. “God, we were idiots.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lee Know muttered, but he was smiling as he leaned in to kiss the corner of Han’s mouth, tasting sugar and butter. “Remember Jeju? When you fell asleep on my shoulder on the ferry?”

“You drew little hearts on my hand with your thumb the entire time,” Han whispered. “I pretended to stay asleep for forty minutes longer than I was.”

Lee Know groaned, hiding his face in Han’s neck. “I thought you were actually asleep. I was trying to be subtle.”

“You were terrible at subtle.”

They kept finding these moments tiny, missed chances, almost-confessions, the years of almost stacked up like firewood finally catching flame. The kitchen filled with the smell of vanilla and coffee and the quiet certainty that none of those moments were wasted anymore.

Han stole a burnt pancake edge and fed it to Lee Know from his fingers. Lee Know licked the syrup off Han’s thumb without breaking eye contact.

“Next time,” Han said quietly, “we’re not waiting for a blizzard.”

Lee Know kissed him again, slow and sure, hands sliding up under the borrowed hoodie to rest warm against Han’s spine.

“Next time,” he promised against Han’s lips, “I’m telling you on the first day. No apps required.”

The afternoon sun slanted through the cabin windows in lazy gold beams, turning the snow outside into a glittering blanket. They’d migrated from the kitchen to the couch after breakfast, plates abandoned in the sink, Han sprawled across Lee Know’s lap with his head pillowed on a thigh, scrolling through nothing on his own phone while Lee Know carded fingers through his hair absentmindedly.

Han’s eyes caught on the coffee table. “Hey. Your phone’s been dead since last night, right? We should probably plug it in. Chan might be blowing it up about the roads.”

Lee Know hummed, reaching for it without dislodging Han. “Probably. Grab the charger from my bag?”

Han did, tossing it over with a lazy underhand. Lee Know plugged it in, the screen flickering to life with a low battery chime. Notifications flooded in: group chat spam, weather alerts, the usual. But the app was still open in the background, that pastel splash screen winking at them like it had been waiting.

“Connection Games,” Lee Know read aloud, squinting. Then the full title loaded: Intimacy Games for Couples - Deepen Your Connection.

They stared for a beat.

Han burst out laughing first, the sound bubbling up from his chest until he was clutching his sides, face buried in Lee Know’s thigh. Lee Know joined a second later, head thrown back, a deep, genuine belly laugh that shook them both.

“Oh my god,” Han gasped, wiping his eyes. “We downloaded a sex app. By accident. For couples.”

Lee Know was still chuckling, scrolling through the description with one thumb. “’Build trust, spark passion, explore desires.’ Holy shit, we’re idiots.”

“You thought it was party games!” Han wheezed, sitting up to peer over his shoulder. “Like, charades or something. Not… whatever the hell that was last night.”

Lee Know’s grin turned wicked. “You complaining?”

Han shoved his arm, face heating. “No. But seriously— we followed a couples’ intimacy app without knowing?”

“Best mistake ever.” Lee Know waggled his eyebrows. “Wanna see what else it’s got? For science.”

Han hesitated for half a second, then shrugged with a smirk. “Dare you. Open it.”

Lee Know did.

The app had saved their progress (creepy, but convenient), and a new set of prompts unlocked, stacked in a neat little deck with hearts and flames emojis next to the bolder ones. They weren’t messing around anymore.

First one popped up: 

Share a fantasy you've never voiced out loud.

 

Lee Know read it aloud, voice dropping into that teasing lilt. “Okay, app. Getting personal fast.”

Han shifted closer, knee pressing against Lee Know’s thigh. “You first. What’s yours?”

Lee Know rubbed his jaw, eyes flicking to Han with a heat that hadn’t been there five minutes ago. “You. Tied up. Me taking my time until you’re begging.”

Han’s breath caught, cheeks flushing. “Hyung—”

“Your turn, princess.”

Han swallowed. “You… pinning me down. Telling me exactly what to do. Treating me like your toy, making me feel like your personal object. Not letting me move until you say.”

The air thickened instantly. Lee Know’s hand found Han’s thigh, squeezing once. “Noted.”

They swiped to the next:

Whisper in their ear what you love about their body.

 

Lee Know leaned in without hesitation, lips brushing Han’s ear. “Your waist,” he murmured, voice like velvet. “The way it curves when you arch for me. And your mouth— fuck, Jisung, the sounds you make.”

Han shivered, turning to return the favor, breath hot against Lee Know’s neck. “Your hands. Strong, but so gentle when you want. And your shoulders— broad, perfect to hold onto when you’re over me.”

Lee Know’s grip tightened on Han’s leg.

Another swipe:

Trace your partner's lips with your finger, then kiss them deeply.

 

“App’s reading my mind,” Lee Know muttered, but he did it— thumb skating slow over Han’s bottom lip, parting them slightly before leaning in. The kiss started soft, then deepened until Han was clutching his shirt, a soft whine escaping.

When they pulled back, both breathing harder, Han laughed shakily. “This thing’s dangerous.”

“One more?” Lee Know asked, eyes dark.

The next was an action:

Undress each other slowly, appreciating every inch revealed.

 

They didn’t even pretend to hesitate. Han stood first, pulling Lee Know up with him. Fingers fumbled with buttons and hems, but slow like the prompt said— Han sliding Lee Know’s shirt up inch by inch, lips following the path over abs and chest. Lee Know returned the favor, hands lingering on Han’s hips, thumbs hooking under waistbands with deliberate drags.

By the time clothes hit the floor, they were pressed skin to skin, hearts hammering.

“App says appreciate,” Han whispered, hands roaming Lee Know’s back.

“I am,” Lee Know growled, nipping his collarbone.

But the phone pinged again:

What's the most sensitive spot on your body? Show them. 

 

Han’s eyes widened. “Hyung…”

Lee Know smirked, guiding Han’s hand to the inside of his thigh, high up. “Here. Light touches drive me insane.”

Han tested it— fingertips ghosting feather-light— and watched Lee Know’s breath stutter, hips twitching.

“My neck,” Han admitted, tilting his head. “Right under the ear.”

Lee Know’s mouth found it immediately, tongue and teeth teasing until Han was gasping, knees weak.

Another prompt:

Describe how you want to be touched right now. 

 

“I want your hands everywhere,” Han said, voice wrecked. “Slow, then hard. Teasing until I can’t take it.”

Lee Know’s eyes flashed. “Want you to ride my thigh. Grind until you’re desperate, then let me take over.”

They were both hard now, the jokes fading into something hotter, closer. The app kept going, but they barely needed it— prompts blending into their own rhythm.

One more question slid up:

What scares you the most about falling in love? 

 

The shift caught them off guard. They paused, still tangled, breaths mingling.

Han answered first, quiet. “Losing you. If this doesn’t work.”

Lee Know cupped his face. “Same. But I’m not going anywhere, Jisung-ah.”

An action followed:

Massage your partner's back, working out the tension.

 

Lee Know turned Han around gently, hands kneading strong and sure down his spine, thumbs digging into knots Han didn’t know he had. Han melted against him, moaning softly when fingers skimmed lower.

“Your turn,” Lee Know said, voice husky.

Han did the same, hands exploring the planes of Lee Know’s back, feeling muscles shift under skin. It was intimate, grounding, pulling them even tighter together.

The next prompt was bolder:

Explore each other's bodies with your mouth- no hands.

 

They laughed at first, but then Lee Know dropped to his knees, lips trailing fire down Han’s chest, stomach, thighs. Han’s fingers twitched to touch, but he obeyed, head falling back with a whimper.

When it was Han’s turn, he pushed Lee Know against the couch arm, mouthing along his neck, shoulders, down to his hips, teasing until Lee Know was growling his name.

The app pinged relentlessly now:

Share a secret desire. Touch them where they're most sensitive. Tell them how they make you feel complete.

 

They followed most, questions drawing out vulnerabilities; 

"I've always wanted you to mark me, make it obvious I'm yours."

"You make me feel see, hyung like I don't have to hide."

Actions stoking the fire higher; kisses turning ton bites, hands, when allowed, pinning and pulling. Laughter wove through the heat, the absurdity of the app keeping it light even as tension coiled tighter, bodies pressing closer, breaths syncing. 

Lee Know nipped Han's ear after one particularly filthy prompt. "This thing's got good ideas."

Han arched agianst him, laughing breathlessly. "Yeah, but we're better at improvising."

As the afternoon bled into evening, the cabin's lights flickered on soft and golden, the fire crackling like an old friend. They didn't bother dressing fully again—Han in just Lee Know's oversized hoodie and boxers, Lee Know in sweatpants slung low on his hips—curled together on the couch with the phone propped between them like a third wheel that kept whispering secrets.

The app had become their lazy entertainment, prompts popping up one after another, blending heat with unexpected depth. They swiped through, sometimes following to the letter, sometimes twisting it into their own game, laughter punctuating the growing tension.

Next one:

Share a fear you've never admitted to anyone.

Lee Know read it aloud, voice casual, but his thumb paused on the screen. Han shifted against him, the weight of the question settling heavier than the last few.

"You first," Han said, trying to keep it light, but his fingers twisted in the hem of the hoodie.

Lee Know exhaled slowly, staring at the fire. "That I'll end up alone. Not like, single— but really alone. No one who gets me past the surface. I've pushed people away before because it's easier than risking them leaving."

Han turned to look at him, heart squeezing. "Hyung... you're not alone. Not anymore."

Lee Know's eyes met his, soft. "I know. But it's still there, you know? Lingering." He squeezed Han's knee. "Your turn."

Han bit his lip. "That I'm not enough. For anyone. Like, I'll always be the fun one, the chaotic one, but not the one people stay for long-term. What if this—" he gestured between them, "—is just the honeymoon phase, and you realise I'm too much?"

Lee Know pulled him closer, arm wrapping around his shoulders. "You're enough, Jisung-ah. More than. We've only got twenty-four hours under our belt, but I've known you for years. This isn't a phase."

The vulnerability hung between them, pulling them tighter even as the app dinged again.

Action:

Run your fingers through their hair and tell them three things you admire about their personality.

 

Han went first this time, sliding his hand into Lee Know's messy strands, tugging gently. "You're steady— like a rock when everything's falling apart. You're kind, even when you hide it behind teasing. And you're brave. Admitting stuff like that fear? Takes guts."

Lee Know's eyes fluttered half-closed at the touch, but he mirrored it, fingers combing through Han's hair slow and soothing. "You're resilient. You bounce back from shit that would break most people. You're generous— always giving more than you take. And you're honest, even when it scares you. Like right now."

They leaned in for a kiss that started sweet, deepened slow, hands lingering in hair until breaths came shorter.

The prompts kept coming, escalating in layers— physical tangled with emotional, like the app knew exactly how to unravel them.

Question:

What's one regret from your past relationships that you've learned from? 

 

Lee Know leaned back, pulling Han half onto his lap. "Pushing too hard to seem indifferent. Dated this guy in college— I liked him, but I acted like I didn't care to protect myself. He left thinking I wasn't invested. Learned I have to show up fully or not at all."

Han nodded, tracing patterns on Lee Know's chest. "Mine's nothing... I've never actually had a relationship before, well nothing like..." gestures to Lee Know, caressing a hand down his chest. "like this."

Action: 

Hold hands and share what you envision for your future together. 

 

They laced fingers automatically, palms warm and sure. Lee Know spoke first. "Lazy mornings like today. Trips where we get lost on purpose. You stealing my clothes forever. Building something solid, no more dancing around."

Han squeezed his hand. "Yeah. And nights where we talk like this. Maybe a place of our own someday, with cats and chaos. Growing old still bantering like idiots."

The depth hit Han unexpectedly— they'd jumped from friends to this in a day, but the words felt right, like puzzle pieces slotting in after years of almost-fitting.

But the app wasn't done pushing. Next:

Blindfold one partner and guide their hands to explore your body.

 

Lee Know arched a brow. "Wild card."

Han laughed nervously. "Me first? Blindfold you?"

They grabbed a scarf from the coat rack, wrapping it gentle around Lee Know's eyes. Han took his hands, placing them on his own shoulders, guiding them down— slow over arms, chest, waist. Lee Know's touch was reverent, thumbs pressing into dips and curves, breath hitching when Han led his fingers lower, over hips and thighs.

"God, Jisung," Lee Know murmured. "You're perfect."

When they switched, Han blindfolded, the world narrowed to sensation: Lee Know's hands directing his to trace collarbones, abs, the V of hips. Han's pulse raced, touch turning exploratory to needy.

Question:

What boundary do you need respected in this relationship? 

 

The shift grounded them again. Han removed the blindfold, still flushed. "Don't shut me out when you're scared. Talk to me, even if it's messy."

Lee Know nodded seriously. "And don't hide when you're overwhelmed. Let me help carry it."

Deeper still:

If we could relive one moment from our friendship as lovers now, what would it be? 

 

"That summer festival," Han said without thinking. "When we shared that ice cream and you wiped chocolate off my face. I wanted to kiss you so bad."

Lee Know smiled. "The late-night drive after your bad day. You cried on my shoulder— I held back from saying everything then. Wouldn't now."

Action:

Give each other a full-body massage, focusing on releasing emotional tension.

 

They moved to the rug by the fire, oil from the bathroom cabinet slicking palms. Lee Know started on Han, hands strong on shoulders, kneading out knots while whispering, "Let go of that fear from earlier." Han did the same for him, fingers working down his back, murmuring, "You're not alone, hyung."

The intimacy built, bodies relaxing but desire simmering underneath, conversations flowing freer with every touch.

As night deepened, the prompts grew bolder, weaving vulnerability with fire.

Question:

What's your deepest insecurity, and how can I help ease it? 

 

Lee Know went quiet first. "That I'm too closed off, too tsundere for someone to stick around. Help by... being patient when I snap. Remind me it's okay to be soft."

Han swallowed. "That I'm too needy, too emotional. Help by... telling me when you need space, but pulling me close when I spiral."

They held each other after, the weight of it sinking in— only a day in, but peeling back layers like they'd waited lifetimes.

Action:

Experiment with temperature play— use ice or warmth on sensitive areas.

 

Lee Know grabbed ice from the freezer, trailing a cube down Han's spine while Han gasped and arched. Han retaliated with warm breath and heated palms, the contrast making them both shudder, laughs turning to moans.

Deeper question:

What does commitment mean to you, and are you ready for it with me?

 

"Forever, if it feels right," Lee Know said, eyes intense. "Not rushing, but yeah— with you, I'm ready to try."

Han nodded, heart full. "Same. Building slow, but real."

The night stretched, prompts cycling through more: Share a childhood memory that shaped who you are Lee Know's story of losing a pet and learning to guard his heart; Han's of being the overlooked middle child and craving attention. Action: Role-play a fantasy scenario they picked something light— Han as the "lost traveler" seeking shelter, Lee Know the "grumpy host," dissolving into giggles and heated kisses.

But as midnight crept closer, the app unlocked its wildest level, the screen flashing a warning: For Committed Couples Only.

The final prompt of the night popped up: Engage in a trust fall exercise— one blindfolded, the other leading them through the space, ending in a surprise sensual act of your choosing.

"Very wild," Han whispered, eyes wide.

Lee Know grinned, predatory. "You trust me?"

"Always."

Han blindfolded again, Lee Know's hands guiding him through the cabin— slow steps around furniture, whispers of "left, right, careful"— building anticipation until they reached the bedroom. Lee Know positioned him on the bed, then surprised him with feathers (from god knows where) trailing over skin, followed by mouth and hands in ways that left Han writhing, begging, the trust amplifying every sensation to excruciating heights.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Christmas Eve dawned white and hushed, the kind of quiet that only comes after days of snow. The cabin smelled faintly of pine, coffee, and the lingering warmth of last night’s fire. Han woke first, tangled in Lee Know’s arms, face tucked against his neck, breathing him in like he still couldn’t believe this was allowed.

Lee Know stirred when Han pressed a soft kiss to the hollow of his throat.

“Morning,” he rasped, voice rough with sleep, fingers tightening reflexively on Han’s waist.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Han whispered back, smiling against his skin.

They stayed like that for a long time, trading lazy kisses and murmured nonsense, until Lee Know finally stretched and declared, “Bath. The tub’s huge and we’re both disgusting.”

Han laughed into his shoulder. “Romantic.”

“You love it.”

They filled the old claw-foot tub with water so hot it steamed up the windows, bubbles from some fancy bath oil Chan had left behind years ago. Lee Know climbed in first, sinking down with a groan, then opened his arms. Han slid in between his legs, back to Lee Know’s chest, head tipped against his shoulder as the water lapped at their collarbones.

For a while they just existed—steam curling around them, snow tapping softly at the frosted glass, Lee Know’s hands resting warm and possessive on Han’s stomach.

Then Han spoke, quiet. “I keep waiting to wake up and realise this was a fever dream.”

Lee Know’s arms tightened. “Not a dream. I’m right here.”

“I know. It’s just—” Han traced idle circles in the water. “Everything’s different now. Good different, but… scary. What if we go home and it’s weird with the guys? What if we can’t figure out how to be normal boyfriends in front of everyone?”

Lee Know was quiet for a beat, chin resting on Han’s wet shoulder. “We’ll be whatever version of us feels right. If we need to keep it quiet at first, we will. If we want to tell them, we’ll tell them. But we don’t have to have it all figured out today.”

Han exhaled, some of the tension leaving his body. “And… what if I’m too much sometimes? Like, I get clingy when I’m anxious. I don’t want to smother you.”

Lee Know turned Han’s chin gently so they were eye-to-eye, water dripping from his lashes. “I like you clingy. I like you loud. I like you quiet when you’re thinking too hard. I’m not going anywhere, Jisung-ah. We’ll learn the balance together.”

Han’s eyes went glassy. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

The seriousness softened into something warmer. Lee Know reached for the soap, lathering his hands before sliding them slow over Han’s chest, thumbs brushing nipples just to watch Han’s breath hitch.

“Your turn,” Han murmured, twisting to face him more fully, knees bracketing Lee Know’s hips. He took the soap, hands gliding over Lee Know’s shoulders, down his arms, tracing every line of muscle like he was memorising it. When he reached Lee Know’s throat, he paused, thumb stroking the faint bruise still blooming there.

“Still sensitive here?” he asked, voice low.

Lee Know’s answer was a sharp inhale when Han leaned in and licked a stripe up the column of his neck, tasting water and skin. Hands wandered lower—Han’s fingers wrapping around Lee Know under the water, slow and exploratory, learning the weight and heat of him all over again.

Lee Know groaned, head falling back against the tub’s rim. “Fuck, baby—”

Han smiled against his jaw, stroking lazy and unhurried, watching Lee Know’s face go slack with pleasure. “Learned something last night,” he whispered. “You like it slow here too.”

Lee Know’s hips lifted slightly into the touch. “You’re a fast learner.”

They took their time—hands mapping every inch, mouths following, water sloshing gently over the edge as Han shifted to straddle Lee Know properly. Lee Know’s fingers found Han’s entrance under the water, slick with soap and care, pressing in slow until Han was rocking down onto them with soft, broken sounds.

“Look at you,” Lee Know breathed, eyes dark and reverent. “So gorgeous like this. All mine.”

Han whimpered, leaning forward to kiss him deep and messy, water dripping from their hair. “Yours,” he echoed against Lee Know’s lips. “Always.”

They didn’t rush. It was all slow rolls of hips, whispered praise, hands gripping slick skin. Lee Know curled his fingers just right and Han came apart quietly, forehead pressed to Lee Know’s, trembling through it. Moments later Lee Know followed, muffling his groan in Han’s neck, arms locked tight around him like he never planned to let go.

After, they stayed in the cooling water until fingers pruned, trading soft kisses and quieter truths.

“I’m scared too,” Lee Know admitted, voice barely above the drip of the tap. “That I’ll mess this up. That I’m not good enough at the soft stuff.”

Han nuzzled closer. “You’re already perfect at it. And we’ve got time to practice.”

Outside, the snow kept falling, blanketing the world in white.

Inside the steam-filled bathroom, they held each other like the future was something they could build together, one careful touch at a time.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

They found the Christmas decorations in a battered plastic tub under the stairs: dusty strings of fairy lights, a handful of mismatched baubles, a slightly lopsided star made of gold-painted cardboard, and one very sad tinsel garland that had seen better decades.

Han held up a cracked glass reindeer like it was treasure. “This is the ugliest thing I’ve ever loved.”

Lee Know snorted, already untangling lights with the patience of a cat herder. “Perfect. Matches the tree.”

They worked like kids who’d been told they could have sugar for dinner: Han balancing on the back of the couch to drape lights over the crooked pine in the corner, Lee Know handing him ornaments with mock ceremony “Your majesty, your plastic snowflake”, both of them laughing when the tinsel got stuck in Han’s hair and turned him into a glittery hedgehog.

When the lights were finally strung half of them blinking, half stubbornly dark, Lee Know found an ancient Bluetooth speaker and queued up a Christmas playlist that started with Michael Bublé and somehow slid straight into Mariah Carey's high notes. 

He grabbed Han’s hand without warning and spun him into the middle of the kitchen.

“Dance with me.”

Han made a strangled noise. “I have the coordination of a newborn giraffe.”

“Perfect. I like them tall and wobbly.”

They were terrible. Spectacularly terrible. Lee Know attempted some exaggerated ballroom dip that almost sent Han crashing into the fridge; Han responded by trying to twerk and nearly taking out a chair. There was flailing. There was stepping on toes. There was Lee Know singing “All I Want for Christmas” directly into Han’s ear, off-key and loud, just to watch him turn red.

Eventually the song slowed Ed Sheeran, soft and acoustic, and the silliness melted into something gentler. Lee Know pulled Han close, hands settling at his waist, swaying more than dancing. Han’s arms looped around his neck, cheek pressed to Lee Know’s shoulder.

The fairy lights blinked lazily behind them, casting gold over their faces.

Han spoke first, voice muffled against Lee Know’s sweater.

“I used to hate Christmas,” he admitted. “Everyone had someone, you know? Family, partners, whatever. And I’d just… sit in my dorm with instant ramen pretending I didn’t care. Never thought I’d get this. Someone who looks at me like I’m—” He stopped, throat tight. “Like I’m the present they actually wanted.”

Lee Know’s arms tightened. He was quiet for a long beat, swaying them in small circles.

“I’ve wanted you for longer than I’ll ever say out loud,” he said finally, low and rough. “Like, embarrassingly long.”

Han pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes wide. “Define long.”

Lee Know exhaled through his nose, suddenly shy in a way Han had never seen. “Remember first year? Before I even really knew the guys? I’d see you after your evening gym sessions. You’d walk across the courtyard in that stupid oversized hoodie, hair all damp, cheeks red from the cold, and I—” He laughed, self-conscious. “I couldn’t look away. Thought you were the most beautiful person I’d ever seen.”

Han’s mouth actually fell open.

“I was a mess back then,” he whispered. “Greasy hair, acne, existential crisis—”

“Doesn’t matter. You glowed.” Lee Know tucked a strand of hair behind Han’s ear. “I started sitting next to Felix in that photography elective just so I could casually ask about you every class. ‘Hey, that guy who sings in the music rooms at 2 a.m., what’s his deal?’ Poor Felix thought I had a crush on him for a solid month.”

Han’s laugh came out wet. “You stalked me via Felix?”

“Strategically gathered intel,” Lee Know corrected, smirking. Then softer: “When Hyunjin finally dragged me into the group hangout and you smiled at me like I belonged— I was gone. Completely gone.”

Han’s eyes were glassy now. He reached up, cupping Lee Know’s face with both hands.

“I thought you barely noticed me back then.”

“I noticed everything,” Lee Know said simply. “Every time you laughed too loud. Every time you hid in your hoodie when you were anxious. Every single time you looked at me like maybe you felt it too and I was too chickenshit to do anything about it.”

The song looped into something slow and instrumental. Snow tapped against the window like it was keeping time.

Han rose on his toes and kissed him—soft, reverent, tasting like salt and wonder.

When they pulled apart, foreheads still touching, Han whispered, “Best Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.”

Lee Know smiled against his mouth. “We’re just getting started, baby.”

The vulnerability hung between them like the fairy lights, fragile and glowing, pulling them closer until the air crackled with it. Han’s hands were still on Lee Know’s face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones, when the shift happened— a spark in Lee Know’s eyes, dark and hungry, that made Han’s breath stutter.

“Jisung-ah,” Lee Know murmured, voice low and rough, hands sliding from Han’s waist down to grip his hips hard enough to bruise. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

Han whimpered, the sound escaping before he could stop it, his body responding on instinct— arching into the touch, heat pooling low in his belly. “Show me,” he whispered, bold and broken. “Please, hyung.”

That was all it took.

Lee Know crushed their mouths together, the kiss turning feral in seconds: teeth clashing, tongues battling, Lee Know backing Han up until his shoulders hit the wall beside the Christmas tree. The impact rattled a bauble loose, sending it rolling across the floor like a forgotten toy, but neither noticed. Lee Know’s hands were everywhere— yanking Han’s sweater up over his head but not off, trapping his arms in the fabric like makeshift restraints, exposing his chest to the cool air and the multicolored glow of the lights.

Red, green, blue danced across Han’s pale skin, highlighting the flush creeping down his throat, the pebbled nipples begging for attention. Lee Know broke the kiss to stare, breath ragged.

“Fuck, look at you,” he growled, pinning Han’s wrists above his head with one hand, the sweater twisted tight around them. “All lit up like my own personal gift. Gonna unwrap you slow, babygirl.”

Han squirmed, thighs pressing together against the ache building between them. “Hyung— need you now—”

“Not yet.” Lee Know’s free hand traced a path down Han’s chest, nails scraping lightly over sensitive skin, circling a nipple until Han keened. Then he reached for the tree— plucking a strand of silver tinsel from a low branch, the cheap glitter catching the light as he draped it loosely around Han’s neck like a collar. “Hold still.”

Han’s eyes widened, pulse thundering. “What are you—”

Lee Know twisted the tinsel ends together at the back, not tight enough to hurt but enough to remind Han who was in charge. He tugged it gently, pulling Han’s head forward for another bruising kiss, then leaned back to admire his work. “There. My pretty princess, all decorated.”

The humiliation mixed with want made Han’s cock twitch in his pants, leaking already. He bucked his hips forward, desperate for friction, but Lee Know pressed a thigh between his legs, pinning him still.

“Patience,” Lee Know teased, voice dripping with that tsundere edge, but his eyes were molten. He grabbed another ornament— a soft, velvet ribbon from a hanging bow— and looped it around Han’s trapped wrists, tying it off with a firm knot. “You wanted this for years? Gonna make you earn it.”

Han moaned, testing the bonds— not too tight, but enough to make him feel deliciously helpless. “Hyung, please— touch me—”

Lee Know obliged, but on his terms. He shoved Han’s pants and boxers down to his thighs in one rough yank, exposing him fully, cock hard and curving up against his stomach, tip glistening. The Christmas lights painted streaks of color over the flushed length, making it look almost obscene. Lee Know wrapped his hand around it, stroking slow and teasing, thumb circling the head until Han was thrusting into his fist with broken cries.

“Such a needy little thing,” Lee Know murmured, leaning in to bite Han’s earlobe. “Gonna use you like my toy tonight.”

He reached for the tree again— this time snagging a candy cane from a branch, the plastic-wrapped peppermint stick cool and smooth. Han’s breath hitched as Lee Know unwrapped it with his teeth, the crinkle loud in the quiet room, then traced the curved end down Han’s chest, over his heaving stomach, circling his navel before dipping lower.

“Hyung— what—” Han gasped, but his protest melted into a whine when Lee Know pressed the flat side against the base of his cock, the cool mint tingling against hot skin.

“Shh,” Lee Know soothed, twisting the candy cane to rub it along the underside, the ridges teasing veins and sensitive spots until Han was shaking, precome smearing sticky over the candy. “You like that? My sweet baby, getting all messy for a little Christmas treat.”

Han’s head fell back against the wall, thighs trembling. “Fuck— yes, more, please—”

Lee Know dropped to his knees then, the sight of him there— dominant even on the floor— sending a fresh wave of heat through Han. He licked a stripe up Han’s cock, tasting salt and mint, before sucking the candy cane into his mouth briefly, wetting it, then pressing the curved end against Han’s entrance. Not pushing in— just teasing, circling the rim with the slick, cool tip while his other hand stroked Han relentlessly.

Han sobbed, hips canting forward. “Hyung— inside, need you inside—”

“Not yet,” Lee Know repeated, but his own control was fraying. He stood abruptly, shoving his own pants down just enough to free himself, hard and leaking, the lights casting rainbow shadows over the thick length. He grabbed Han’s thigh, hitching it up around his waist, pressing their bodies flush— skin slick with sweat, colors dancing over them like a fever dream.

He slicked himself quickly with lube from his pocket (prepared, always prepared), then pushed in with one urgent thrust, burying himself deep. Han cried out, the stretch burning perfect, bonds pulling taut as he arched.

They moved like that— intense, frantic, clothes half-hanging off, wall rattling with every snap of Lee Know’s hips. Lee Know tugged the tinsel collar with one hand, pulling Han’s head back to expose his throat, biting down hard enough to mark while his other hand worked the candy cane in shallow teases against Han’s rim, the dual sensation overwhelming.

“Mine,” Lee Know growled against the bite, thrusts turning punishing. “All fucking mine, Jisung— say it.”

“Yours,” Han gasped, voice wrecked, coming undone as Lee Know hit that spot over and over. “Always yours— hyung, please, harder—”

Lee Know gave it to him, pounding in until Han shattered first— clenching tight, spilling hot between them with a scream, the tinsel digging into his neck like a claim. Lee Know followed seconds later, groaning deep and filthy, filling Han in pulsing waves, hips stuttering as he rode it out.

They slumped together against the wall, breaths ragged, lights still blinking merry and oblivious.

Eventually Lee Know untied the ribbon, unwound the tinsel, kissing the faint red lines they left behind. He helped Han fix his clothes (sort of), then scooped him up bridal-style despite Han’s weak protest, carrying him to the couch.

They curled up under a throw blanket, Han tucked against Lee Know’s chest, the tree glowing softly in the corner.

Lee Know pressed a kiss to Han’s forehead, then tilted his chin up.

“I love you,” he said, simple and sure, like he’d been holding it for years.

Han’s eyes filled, a smile breaking through. “I love you too. So much.”

They stayed like that, wrapped in each other, the words settling warm and real as the snow outside.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The sky was that perfect winter blue, the snow so bright it hurt to look at directly. They’d pulled on every layer they could find: Han in two hoodies under Lee Know’s massive puffer jacket sleeves swallowing his hands, Lee Know in a beanie pulled low over his ears and a scarf Han had wound around his neck three times “for science.”

The first step outside made them both squeak. The air was sharp enough to bite, but the world was so beautiful it stole their breath: untouched powder glittering like crushed diamonds, trees heavy with white, the cabin smoke curling lazily into the sky.

Han lasted exactly four seconds before he bent down, scooped a handful of snow, and lobbed it straight at Lee Know’s chest.

It exploded in a perfect puff against the black jacket.

Lee Know looked down at the splatter, then up at Han with slow, deliberate menace.

“Run.”

Han shrieked and bolted, legs sinking to his knees with every step. He didn’t make it ten meters before Lee Know tackled him into a drift, both of them crashing down in a tangle of limbs and laughter and freezing snow down the back of Han’s neck.

“You absolute demon,” Han gasped, trying to wriggle free, but Lee Know pinned him easily, knees on either side of his hips, grinning like a cat who’d caught the canary.

“Payback,” Lee Know declared, and shoved a handful of snow straight into Han’s collar.

Han yelped, arching off the ground. “Cold! Coldcoldcold— hyung!”

Lee Know just laughed, low and delighted, then leaned down and kissed him instead—mouth hot against Han’s icy lips, snowflakes melting where their cheeks touched. Han melted faster than the snow, hands fisting in Lee Know’s jacket, pulling him closer until they were making out in a snowbank like lovesick teenagers.

They eventually rolled apart, breathless and grinning, cheeks red from cold and kissing.

“Come on,” Lee Know said, hauling Han up. “Snowman. Before you freeze your ass off.”

The snowman was a disaster and they loved every second of it. Han insisted on giving it a massive butt “for structural integrity”, Lee Know found two pinecones for absently spicy reasons, and the carrot nose ended up comically crooked because Han kept “accidentally” bumping Lee Know every time he tried to place it.

They stood back to admire their creation: lopsided, slightly melted in places from body heat, wearing Han’s spare beanie and one of Lee Know’s scarves like a feather boa.

“Magnificent,” Han declared, looping an arm around Lee Know’s waist.

“Hideous,” Lee Know corrected, but he was smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. “Ten out of ten.”

Han turned to him, snowflakes catching in his lashes. “I’m so stupidly happy right now.”

Lee Know’s expression softened. He brushed a thumb over Han’s cold cheek, then leaned in to kiss him again—slow, reverent, tasting frost and laughter.

“Me too,” he whispered against Han’s lips. “Let’s go inside before we turn into popsicles.”

They stumbled back through the door in a flurry of snow and giggles, kicking off boots, peeling off wet layers until they were down to thermals and socks. Han immediately dove for the couch, burrowing under the blanket pile like a hibernating creature.

Lee Know followed, wrapping around him from behind, chin hooked over Han’s shoulder, both of them still half-laughing, half-shivering.

Han turned in his arms, nuzzling into Lee Know’s neck. “I’m in love with you in every kind of weather,” he mumbled, voice muffled against warm skin.

Lee Know’s heart did something ridiculous. He pressed a kiss to Han’s temple, arms tightening.

“Good,” he said, voice rough with it. “Because I’m keeping you for all the seasons.”

Outside, their crooked snowman stood watch, carrot nose pointing proudly at the sky, while inside the cabin the fire crackled and two idiots in love held each other like the world had finally, finally gotten something right.

The kitchen smelled like cinnamon and molasses, the kind of warm spice that wrapped around you like a hug. They'd found a gingerbread mix in the pantry probably expired, but who cared, and Han was elbow-deep in dough, flour dusting his nose like fake snow.

"Hyung, this is supposed to be a house," Han complained, trying to roll out the sticky mess without it clinging to everything. "It looks like a melted igloo."

Lee Know leaned over his shoulder, chin brushing Han's ear, hands sliding around his waist from behind to "help" guide the rolling pin. "That's because you're manhandling it, princess. Gentle. Like this."

His fingers covered Han's, pressing slow and deliberate, the motion way more suggestive than cookie-making had any right to be. Han's breath hitched, cheeks going pink under the flour.

"You're distracting me on purpose," Han accused, but he leaned back into Lee Know's chest anyway.

"Guilty." Lee Know nipped his earlobe, then stepped away with a smirk, grabbing cookie cutters from the drawer. "Come on. Let's make some men. Or... whatever shapes these are."

They cut out lopsided figures, decorating with raisins for eyes and icing that dripped everywhere. Halfway through, Lee Know pulled out his phone again, that damn app still open from last night.

"Look, there's a 'Never Have I Ever' mode," he said, eyes glinting. "Holiday edition. Up for it while these bake?"

Han eyed him warily, popping a dough scrap into his mouth. "As long as it doesn't end with me tied to the Christmas tree again."

"No promises."

The oven timer set, they migrated to the living room with mugs of hot chocolate spiked with peppermint schnapps—rich, boozy, the mint cutting through the sweetness like a cool burn. They settled cross-legged in front of the fireplace, backs against the couch, the flames crackling soft and warm. Han took a sip and immediately coughed, the alcohol hitting harder than expected.

"Strong," he wheezed.

Lee Know chuckled, clinking their mugs. "Lightweight. Okay, app says: Never have I ever kissed under mistletoe."

Han sipped, grinning. "Guilty. High school party. You?"

Lee Know drank too. "A few times. Your turn to ask."

They went back and forth, innocent at first: Never have I ever built a snowman (both drank, fresh from outside). Never have I ever sung Christmas carols door-to-door (neither). But the app escalated, as it always did.

Never have I ever had a one-night stand.

Lee Know sipped casually. Han didn't.

Lee Know arched a brow. "Really? Never?"

Han shrugged, cheeks warming more from the question than the fire. "Nope. I'm... picky."

Next: Never have I ever hooked up with someone from our friend group.

Neither drank. Han laughed nervously. "Good. That would've been awkward."

But then: Never have I ever fantasized about a friend.

Both drank. Han's sip was small, hesitant. Lee Know's eyes darkened.

"Which friend?" Lee Know asked, voice low.

Han bit his lip. "You. Always you."

Lee Know set his mug down, leaning closer. "Me too. You, specifically. A lot."

The prompts dug deeper: Never have I ever watched porn.

Lee Know drank. Han didn't.

Never have I ever used toys.

Lee Know drank again. Han shook his head, face burning.

Never have I ever had sex in public.

Lee Know sipped, smirking faintly. "College. Risky, but fun."

Han stared into his mug, not drinking. The pattern was clear now— Han's inexperience laid bare with every pass. Lee Know's hand found his knee, thumb rubbing soothing circles.

"Jisung-ah," he said gently. "You've... never done much of anything, have you?"

Han swallowed, the schnapps loosening his tongue. "No. Like, nothing. Until you."

Lee Know went still, processing. The night before— their first time, Han's eagerness, the way he'd trembled but pushed forward. "Wait. I was your first? Everything?"

Han nodded, not meeting his eyes. "Yeah."

Guilt flashed across Lee Know's face, sharp and sudden. "Fuck. Why didn't you say? I would've— slower, gentler. I was rough, I—"

"No." Han set his mug down too hard, hot chocolate sloshing over the rim onto his lap. He hissed at the burn, but grabbed Lee Know's hand. "I wanted it like that. I dreamed about you being my first. For years. Rough, soft, whatever— as long as it was you."

Lee Know's breath caught, guilt warring with something hotter. "Years?"

Han nodded, the alcohol making him bold. "Since uni. You were always there, hyung. In my head."

The app pinged again: Never have I ever stalked someone online.

Lee Know drank, slow. Han raised a brow. "Who?"

"You." Lee Know's voice was rough, confessional. "In uni. I'd check your socials obsessively. Felix would tell me where you'd be— gym, library— and I'd 'accidentally' show up. Watched you change after workouts once or twice through the locker room door. Couldn't help it. You were... mesmerizing."

Han's eyes widened, a mix of shock and heat flooding him. Stalkerish. Voyeuristic. Part of him recoiled— that's creepy, right? But the rest... god, the idea of Lee Know wanting him that badly, watching him, thinking about him during all those hookups... it was hot. Dizzyingly hot.

"You... thought about me? During other stuff?"

Lee Know nodded, unashamed now. "Every time. Imagined it was you under me, your sounds, your body. Jerked off to the memory of seeing you shirtless more times than I can count."

Han shifted, the spilled chocolate forgotten, arousal coiling tight in his gut. "That's... kinda fucked up, hyung."

"I know." Lee Know's hand slid higher on his thigh. "But you like it, don't you?"

Han bit his lip, nodding shakily. "Yeah. Fuck, yeah."

The mug accidentally spills over Han's legs soaking through his pants, sticky and cooling fast. Han grimaced, plucking at the wet fabric. "This is gross. I need to change."

Lee Know's eyes tracked the stain, then flicked up with intent. "Let me help."

He stood, pulling Han up with him, hands already tugging at the hem of Han's shirt. Han let him, lifting his arms as Lee Know peeled the damp fabric away, lips brushing exposed skin along the way. The pants came next— Lee Know sinking to his knees to slide them down slow, mouthing at Han's hip bone, the sticky residue from the spill giving him an excuse to lick a path across Han's thigh.

"Hyung—" Han gasped, hands in Lee Know's hair.

Lee Know looked up, eyes dark. "Everything off, baby. You're all messy."

Underwear followed, Han stepping out of them with a shiver. Lee Know stayed on his knees, hands sliding up Han's legs, parting them slightly as he leaned in, tongue tracing the spilled chocolate's path higher, cleaning him with deliberate, teasing laps until Han was hard and whimpering, knees weak.

"Bathroom?" Han managed.

Lee Know stood, kissing him deep and minty-sweet. "Bathroom."

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The bathroom was already thick with steam by the time Lee Know twisted the shower knob to near-scalding. Hot water roared down, filling the small space with white noise and fog that curled around them like a secret. Han stepped in first, shivering despite the heat, goosebumps racing over his bare skin from the sudden temperature shift. Lee Know followed right behind, crowding him gently under the spray, hands settling on Han’s hips like they belonged there.

Water sluiced over them in sheets, turning Han’s hair dark and sleek, running in rivulets down the slope of his shoulders, tracing every line of his body like it was trying to memorize him. Lee Know’s gaze followed every droplet, reverent, almost overwhelmed.

“God, look at you,” he breathed, voice barely audible over the water. He cupped Han’s face with both hands, thumbs stroking along sharp cheekbones, brushing away the water that clung to his lashes. “My beautiful boy. Let me take care of you this time, yeah?”

Han’s breath hitched, nodding before the words even formed. “Yeah. Please.”

Lee Know leaned in and kissed him slow—no teeth, no rush, just soft, deep presses of lips that tasted like peppermint schnapps and want. His tongue slid along Han’s bottom lip, gentle, coaxing, until Han opened for him with a tiny, trusting sigh. The kiss stayed tender, almost chaste, even as their bodies pressed closer, cocks brushing, both half-hard already but neither pushing for more yet.

Lee Know broke away only to reach for the body wash, pouring a generous amount into his palms before rubbing them together, creating thick lather. He started at Han’s shoulders, fingers kneading slow circles, thumbs digging gently into tense muscle until Han melted against him with a soft moan.

“Arms up, baby,” Lee Know whispered.

Han obeyed instantly, lifting his arms so Lee Know could glide soapy hands down his sides, tracing the curve of his waist, the dip of his spine, the soft skin just above his hips. Every touch was deliberate worship—slow drags of palms over ribs, fingertips circling nipples until they pebbled tight, then soothing them with the pad of his thumb.

“You’re perfect here,” Lee Know murmured, lips brushing Han’s collarbone as his hands mapped lower, over the slight give of his stomach, the sharp cut of hipbones. “Every inch of you. Been dreaming about touching you like this for years—soft, slow, until you’re shaking.”

Han’s knees buckled slightly; Lee Know caught him, turning him gently until Han’s chest pressed to the warm tiles, water cascading down his back. Lee Know’s hands never stopped—sliding down the length of Han’s spine, kneading the swell of his ass, spreading him just enough to let water run between, teasing but never pushing inside.

“Hyung—” Han’s voice cracked, forehead resting against the cool tile, body trembling from the overwhelming gentleness.

“Shh, I’ve got you.” Lee Know pressed flush against his back, chest to spine, letting Han feel how hard he was but not grinding, not taking—just holding. One hand slipped around to Han’s front, fingers wrapping loosely around his cock, stroking with the same unhurried devotion. “Feel that? That’s how much I want you. Always have.”

Han whimpered, pushing into the touch, but Lee Know kept the pace maddeningly slow—long, slick pulls from root to tip, thumb swiping gently over the head on every upstroke, spreading precome and soap until Han was panting, thighs shaking.

“Look at you taking it so pretty,” Lee Know praised against his ear, voice rough with restraint. “My good boy. First time anyone’s ever touched you like this, and you’re letting me—fuck, Jisung, you’re everything.”

He turned Han again, pressing him back to the tiles, dropping to his knees in the steam. Water poured over his shoulders, running in rivers down his chest as he looked up—eyes dark, soft, completely undone.

“Let me taste you, baby. Just like this. Slow and good.”

Han could only nod, fingers threading into Lee Know’s wet hair as Lee Know leaned forward, lips brushing the head of his cock in a feather-light kiss before taking him in—inch by inch, tongue flat and warm, cheeks hollowing gently. No rush, no deep-throating theatrics—just steady, reverent suction, one hand braced on Han’s hip, the other stroking what his mouth couldn’t reach yet.

Han’s head thunked back against the tile, a broken moan echoing off the walls. Lee Know hummed around him, the vibration making Han’s hips jerk, but Lee Know held him steady—always steady—worshipping with lips and tongue and soft, filthy praise muffled around his length.

“Love how you taste,” Lee Know pulled off just long enough to murmur, lips shiny and red, water dripping from his lashes. “Love how you tremble for me. Gonna make you come just like this—slow, perfect, all mine.”

He took Han deep again, slow and steady, hand twisting gently at the base until Han’s thighs shook, breath coming in ragged sobs, pleasure building in soft, devastating waves instead of the usual frantic rush.

When Han came, it was with Lee Know’s name on his tongue—quiet, overwhelmed, body bowing forward as he spilled over Lee Know’s tongue in gentle pulses. Lee Know swallowed every drop, then kept licking softly until Han was whining from overstimulation, tugging weakly at his hair.

Lee Know rose, pressing Han gently back against the tiles, kissing him deep and slow—letting Han taste himself, letting him feel the tremble in Lee Know’s own body, the hard line of his cock still untouched between them.

“Your turn to feel good, hyung?” Han whispered, dazed and soft, hands already sliding down Lee Know’s chest.

Lee Know just smiled, cupping Han’s face like he was something precious, water still pouring over them both.

“Not yet,” he murmured. “Still busy worshipping.”

Han’s eyes, still hazy from his release, sharpened suddenly. He pushed off the tiles with a surge of energy that caught Lee Know off guard, spinning them until Lee Know’s back hit the slick wall instead. Water pounded down over Han’s shoulders, making his skin gleam like polished marble, droplets clinging to his lashes as he grabbed Lee Know’s face with both hands and crashed their mouths together.

The kiss was rough—nothing like the gentle worship from moments ago. Han’s teeth caught Lee Know’s bottom lip, tugging hard enough to sting, his tongue demanding entry with a fierce, almost desperate push. Lee Know groaned into it, surprise making his hands falter for a second before they gripped Han’s waist, steadying them both under the spray.

Han broke away first, chest heaving, water streaming down his face like tears. His voice came out raw, wrecked, but steady—eyes locked on Lee Know’s with a heat that burned hotter than the steam.

“Hyung,” he panted, one hand sliding down to wrap around Lee Know’s cock, stroking firm and slow. “I loved that— the soft stuff, you worshipping me. But I need more. Break me. Shatter me. Use me like the little slut I am for you. Please.”

Lee Know’s breath punched out of him, eyes widening in genuine shock. Han— his sweet, pillow-princess Han, the one who’d been trembling and shy just yesterday— saying words like that? Begging for degradation with that filthy, needy edge? It hit like a gut punch, arousal slamming through him so hard his cock twitched in Han’s grip.

“Jisung-ah—” Lee Know’s voice cracked, hand coming up to cup Han’s jaw, thumb pressing into his bottom lip. “You... you sure? After what you told me? I don’t want to hurt you.”

Han leaned into the touch, nipping at Lee Know’s thumb before sucking it into his mouth briefly, eyes never leaving his. He released it with a wet pop. “I’m sure. I’ve fantasized about this too— you taking control, making me beg, edging me until I’m crying for it. Call me names. Make me your whore. Just... don’t stop until I’m ruined.”

The surprise lingered in Lee Know’s expression, but it melted into something darker, hungrier— a spark of understanding that Han wasn’t just inexperienced; he had depths, kinks tucked away like secrets, waiting for the right person to unlock them. And fuck, if that didn’t make Lee Know want to dive in headfirst.

“Okay,” Lee Know murmured, voice dropping low and commanding, testing the waters. He flipped them again effortlessly, pinning Han back against the tiles with his body, one hand wrapping around Han’s throat—not squeezing, just holding, a promise of control. “My greedy little slut wants to be edged? Wants me to tease you until you’re sobbing?”

Han’s eyes fluttered, a whimper escaping as he nodded frantically, already hardening again under the words. “Yes— fuck, yes, hyung. Please.”

Lee Know’s free hand slid down, fingers wrapping around Han’s cock, stroking slow and deliberate, building the rhythm just enough to make Han’s hips buck. Water cascaded over them, turning every touch slick and heated, steam blurring the edges of the shower like they were in their own world. “Look at you,” Lee Know growled, thumb circling the head teasingly. “Already hard again, like a desperate whore who can’t get enough. But you’re not coming yet, baby. Not until I say.”

Han keened, thrusting into the fist, but Lee Know tightened his grip on Han’s throat just enough to still him, the pressure light but firm. “No moving. You take what I give you, slut. Understand?”

“Yes— hyung, yes—” Han’s voice broke, body trembling as Lee Know stroked faster for a few seconds, building the edge sharp and sweet, only to slow right when Han’s breaths turned ragged, his cock throbbing in Lee Know’s hand.

“Good boy,” Lee Know praised, the words laced with that degrading bite. He leaned in, lips brushing Han’s ear as water poured between them. “Such a pathetic little thing, begging to be used. I could keep you like this for hours— hard and leaking, crying for release. Is that what you want? To be my toy?”

Han’s nails dug into Lee Know’s shoulders, a sob hitching in his throat as Lee Know edged him again— fast strokes turning to feather-light touches, thumb pressing just under the head until Han was shaking, knees nearly giving out. “Please— hyung, I’m your slut, your whore, just— don’t stop, make me wait, I need it—”

Lee Know’s own arousal throbbed untouched between them, but he ignored it, focused entirely on Han’s unraveling— the way his body clenched, the desperate whimpers, the flush spreading down his chest under the hot water. He released Han’s throat to trace fingers down his spine, dipping lower to circle his entrance teasingly, not pushing in, just pressing enough to make Han gasp.

“Not yet,” Lee Know repeated, voice a low rumble. “You’re gonna beg prettier than that, my filthy princess. Show me how bad you want to shatter.”

Lee Know’s surprise lingered for only a heartbeat longer, his eyes searching Han’s face through the steam—flushed cheeks, parted lips, the raw desperation in those pretty, pleading eyes. Then something snapped into place, a dark satisfaction curling his mouth into a smirk as he tightened his grip on Han’s cock, stroking just once more, hard and slow, before releasing him entirely. Han whined at the loss, hips jerking forward uselessly, chasing the touch like the needy slut he’d just begged to be.

“Oh, baby,” Lee Know purred, voice a velvet growl under the pounding water, his hand sliding up to fist in Han’s wet hair, yanking his head back just enough to expose the long line of his throat. Water streamed down Han’s neck in hot rivulets, pooling in the hollow of his collarbone before spilling lower, over the heaving rise and fall of his chest. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you? My innocent little princess, begging to be treated like a dirty whore. If that’s what you want— fine. I’ll break you so good you’ll forget your own name.”

Han’s body shuddered violently at the words, a high-pitched moan tearing from his lips as Lee Know’s free hand dipped between them again, fingers teasing feather-light over Han’s aching cock—barely touching, just enough to make him twitch and leak, precome mixing with the water in sticky strings that washed away instantly. “Hyung— fuck, yes, please— make me your whore, I need it so bad—”

Lee Know chuckled dark and low, the sound vibrating against Han’s skin as he leaned in, lips brushing the shell of Han’s ear. “Look at you, already so desperate. Pathetic, isn’t it? My good little slut, hard and dripping just from words. But you’re not coming yet— oh no, baby. I’m gonna edge you until you’re crying, until every inch of this perfect body is begging for me.”

He pressed Han harder against the tiles, the cool ceramic a stark contrast to the scalding water and the heat of Lee Know’s body pinning him there—chest to chest, cocks brushing slick and teasing, Lee Know’s own length throbbing hot against Han’s thigh but ignored for now. Worship threaded through the degradation like a golden vein: Lee Know’s mouth descended on Han’s neck, sucking hard enough to bloom a fresh bruise, tongue laving over the mark like it was sacred. “Such pretty skin,” he murmured, biting down gently before soothing with a kiss. “Made for my teeth, for my hands. My beautiful, filthy boy— you were born to be ruined by me, weren’t you?”

Han’s response was a loud, broken sob, echoing off the shower walls, his hips grinding forward shamelessly. “Yes— god, yes, hyung— ruin me, please— I’m your slut, your pretty whore, just— touch me more—”

“Shh, no begging yet,” Lee Know commanded, but his tone was laced with praise, soft and adoring even as his hand wrapped around Han’s cock again, stroking fast and tight—building that razor-sharp edge in seconds, Han’s balls drawing up tight, his breaths coming in sharp, loud gasps. Water splashed around them, steam so thick it blurred the edges of their bodies, making every slide of skin feel dreamlike and obscene. Lee Know watched Han’s face the whole time— the way his eyes squeezed shut, mouth falling open in a silent scream as he teetered right on the brink.

Then Lee Know stopped, hand pulling away completely, leaving Han thrusting into empty air with a frustrated, ear-splitting wail. “No— hyung, please, I was so close— fuck, let me come, I’ll be good—”

“Good sluts don’t come without permission,” Lee Know growled, but he dropped to one knee again, water pounding against his back as he spread Han’s thighs wider, hooking one leg over his shoulder to expose him fully. Han’s cock bobbed red and swollen against his stomach, veins pulsing, tip leaking steadily under the spray. Lee Know’s fingers traced the cleft of Han’s ass, circling his rim with slick, soapy pressure—teasing, worshipping the tight pucker with gentle rubs that had Han’s hole fluttering desperately. “Look at this pretty hole,” Lee Know whispered, voice thick with awe even as degradation dripped from his tongue. “So tight, so eager for me. My perfect little whore— you’re gonna take my fingers like the greedy slut you are, aren’t you? Beg for it louder, baby. Let me hear how bad you want to be stretched.”

Han’s voice cracked on a scream, loud and unrestrained, bouncing off the tiles like music. “Hyung— please, finger me, stretch me open— I’m your greedy slut, your desperate whore, just— fuck me with your fingers, make me scream for you—”

“That’s my boy,” Lee Know praised, sliding one finger in slow— the water and leftover soap making it slick and easy, Han’s body yielding like it was made for this. He crooked it immediately, brushing that spot inside that made Han’s entire body jolt, a high-pitched keen ripping from his throat. Lee Know added a second finger, scissoring gently at first, worshipping the velvet heat clenching around him, but then thrusting harder, faster— prepping him rough and thorough, knuckles brushing Han’s prostate on every in-stroke until Han was sobbing openly, tears mixing with the water on his cheeks.

“Listen to you,” Lee Know groaned, standing again without pulling his fingers out, curling them deep as he pressed Han back against the wall. His other hand returned to Han’s cock, stroking in time with the thrusts— fast, then slow, edging him mercilessly while his fingers fucked in relentless, twisting curls. “So loud for me, my noisy little slut. Scream louder— let the whole fucking mountain hear what a whore you are for my fingers. You’re taking them so well, baby— such a perfect, filthy hole.”

Han obeyed without hesitation, his moans turning to full-throated screams— raw, echoing cries of “Hyung— fuck, yes— harder, please— I’m your slut, your good whore— don’t stop, edge me more—” His body shook violently, hole clenching spasmodically around Lee Know’s fingers, cock weeping precome in thick beads that washed away under the spray. Lee Know brought him to the edge three more times— fingers pounding deep, hand stroking slick and tight— only to stop each time Han’s screams pitched highest, his body locking up in denied ecstasy.

By the fourth edge, Han was a wreck— legs trembling, supported only by Lee Know’s body and the wall, tears streaming freely, voice hoarse but still loud, begging in broken fragments. “Please— hyung, I can’t— I’m shattering, please let me come— I’m your broken slut, your everything—”

Lee Know pulled his fingers out abruptly, spinning Han to face the wall, Han’s palms slapping against the tiles for balance. Water poured over Han’s back, down the curve of his ass as Lee Know spread him wide, admiring the slightly gaped, fluttering hole— pink and slick, prepped and ready. “Not yet, whore,” Lee Know rasped, lining himself up, the blunt head of his cock pressing against Han’s rim. “I’m gonna fuck you rough now— shatter you on my cock like the desperate slut you begged to be. Scream for me, baby. Be loud— let me hear every filthy sound while I use this perfect hole.”

With one brutal thrust, Lee Know buried himself to the hilt— the stretch burning hot and perfect, Han’s body yielding with a wet, obscene slide. Han screamed— loud, unrestrained, the sound ripping through the steam like thunder— as Lee Know set a punishing pace, hips snapping forward with skin-slapping force, water splashing everywhere. Each thrust punched deep, grazing Han’s prostate relentlessly, Lee Know’s hands gripping Han’s hips hard enough to leave fingerprints.

“That’s it— scream louder, my good little whore,” Lee Know encouraged, voice wrecked with pleasure, one hand sliding around to edge Han’s cock again— stroking fast but stopping short every time Han tensed. “You’re taking my cock so well— such a tight, perfect slut. Cry for me, baby— let it all out while I fuck you raw. You’re mine to break, mine to worship— my loud, filthy princess.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Meanwhile, unknown to Han and Lee Know—curled up in the cabin's warm cocoon, oblivious to the world beyond their snowbound bubble—the rest of the group had been scheming since the blizzard's first howl. 

The roads cleared overnight, a Christmas miracle courtesy of overworked plows and a sudden warm front that turned the ice to slush. Chan got the alert at dawn, his phone buzzing like an angry hornet on the nightstand. By 7 a.m., texts were flying: Felix rallying the troops from his apartment, Hyunjin packing an aburb amount of skincare "just in case," Changbin insisting on stopping for coffee because "no one surprises anyone on an empty stomach," Seungmin rolling his eyes but showing up anyway, and Jeongin half-asleep in the backset of Chan's car, bundled like a burrito. 

They piled into two cars—Chan's leading with Felix shotgun, Jeongin and Seungmin in the back; Hyunjin and Changbin following in Hyunjin's flashy sedan that was absolutely not made for mountain roads but looked good doing it. The drive was slow but steady, tires crunching over salted gravel, the sky a pale winter pink as the sun crept up.

In Chan's car, the heater blasted full force, fogging the windows until Felix wiped a clear streak with his sleeve.

"Think they're still alive?" Felix asked, half-joking, as he fiddled with the radio, landing on some staticky Christmas station playing Jingle Bells for the umpteenth time.

Chan laughed, eyes on the winding road. "Han and Lee Know? Alone for three days? If they haven't killed each other by now, it's a holiday miracle."

From the back, Seungmin snorted, not looking up from his phone. "Please. Lee Know's probably buried Han in a snowdrift by day two. You know how they are— one minute bantering, the next it's full-on death glares. Remember that barbecue last summer? Han 'accidentally' dumped sauce on Lee Know's shirt and I swear I saw murder in his eyes."

Jeongin, finally stirring from his nap, rubbed his eyes and grinned sleepily. "Nah, Han would've talked his way out of it. He's got that puppy thing going on. But yeah, they're like oil and water. Or cats and dogs. Lee Know acts like Han's the most annoying person alive half the time. Forced proximity? Recipe for disaster."

Felix turned in his seat, exchanging a quick, confused glance with Chan. "You guys really think they hate each other that much? I mean... Lee Know's always hot and cold with him. One second he's fixing Han's collar or sharing his food, the next he's teasing him until Han's red in the face. It's weird."

Chan nodded slowly, drumming his fingers on the wheel. "Yeah, I've always figured Lee Know had a thing for him. Massive crush vibes. Why else would he go out of his way to 'annoy' him so much? But then he pulls that tsundere bullshit and acts like he can't stand the guy. It's confusing as hell."

Seungmin leaned forward, eyebrows shooting up. "A crush? On Han? No way. Lee Know's too... I don't know, composed. If he liked someone, he'd just say it. Not bicker like a middle-schooler with a playground crush."

Jeongin cackled. "Oh man, imagine if they did murder each other. We'd show up to a crime scene— Han with a pillow over his face, Lee Know claiming it was 'accidental suffocation during a nap fight.'"

Felix burst out laughing, nearly spilling his thermos. "Or Lee Know finally snaps over Han's clumsiness and yeets him off the porch into a snowbank. 'He tripped, officer.' But seriously, I hope the alone time fixed whatever awkwardness they've got going on. The group's been tiptoeing around their vibe for months. It's ridiculous."

Chan hummed in agreement, glancing in the rearview. "Fingers crossed. Either they've bonded or we're walking into World War III. But hey, at least it'll be a memorable Christmas."

In the car behind, Hyunjin and Changbin were having a similar conversation, voices tinny over the Bluetooth speaker linking the two vehicles.

"Ten bucks says they ate each other out of boredom," Changbin said, popping a mint into his mouth.

Hyunjin wrinkled his nose from the driver's seat. "Gross. But yeah, those two alone? Han's probably driven Lee Know insane with his endless energy. Or Lee Know's sarcasm finally made Han snap and lock him in the shed."

Changbin chuckled. "They never get along for more than five minutes without someone intervening. Remember game night? Han accused Lee Know of cheating at Uno and it turned into a full debate. If they're not dead, they're definitely not speaking."

The group chat pinged with updates—ETA thirty minutes, bring the eggnog, hope the cabin's still standing. Excitement buzzed through the cars like static, the surprise salvage of their holiday plans fueling the laughter, even as they joked about the potential carnage waiting at the end of the road.

The two cars pulled up the driveway with a triumphant crunch, the group's excitement bubbling over like over-shaken champagne. Chan hopped out first, keys jangling, a grin splitting his face as he motioned for everyone to keep quiet. "Shh—surprise, remember? Let's creep in and scare the crap out of them."

Felix nodded, stifling a laugh, while Hyunjin and Changbin tumbled out of the second car, arms loaded with bags of last-minute groceries and gifts. Seungmin and Jeongin followed, Jeongin still yawning from the early wake-up. The snow muffled their footsteps as they clustered at the door, Chan turning the knob slowly—unlocked, of course, because who locked doors in the middle of nowhere?

They slipped inside one by one, the warmth of the cabin hitting them like a hug after the crisp morning air. Chan closed the door with a soft click, and for a second, the group just stood there, taking it in. The place looked... lived-in. Very lived-in. Blankets were rumpled on the couch, pillows scattered like they'd been thrown in haste. A couple of wine glasses sat on the coffee table, one tipped sideways with a dried red ring at the bottom. The Christmas tree's ornaments hung at odd angles, like someone had bumped into it mid-stride, and tinsel trailed across the floor in a glittering path that led... upstairs?

Hyunjin tilted his head, whispering, "Uh, did they have a party without us? Or is this the aftermath of a wrestling match?"

Seungmin picked up a stray sock from the banister, holding it between two fingers like evidence. "Knowing those two, probably both. Han's hoodie over there looks like it was yeeted in anger."

Changbin scanned the room, spotting the spilled mugs by the fireplace, dark stains seeping into the rug. "Man, this place is trashed. They must've been bored out of their minds—"

Then it happened.

A sound from upstairs. Not just any sound—a rhythmic thump against what had to be a wall, followed by a high, keening cry that was unmistakably Han's voice, raw and desperate.

"Hyung—fuck, yes—harder, please—I'm your slut, your good whore—"

The group froze. Absolute, pin-drop silence descended, every single one of them turning statue-still, eyes widening in collective horror as the words hung in the air like smoke.

Another voice—Lee Know's, low and commanding, laced with a growl that echoed down the stairs: "That's it, scream louder for me, my filthy princess. Take it like the desperate whore you are—"

Thump-thump. A sob from Han, loud and shattered: "Please—hyung, shatter me, use me—"

The moment stretched, the shock so thick it felt like time had stopped. No one breathed. Jeongin's mouth hung open mid-yawn. Seungmin's hand froze mid-air, still clutching the sock.

Then the dam broke.

"Oh my god," Hyunjin wheezed, clapping a hand over his mouth to stifle the hysterical laugh bubbling up, his shoulders shaking violently.

Felix's face lit up like Christmas morning, pumping a fist in silent victory. "I knew it! I fucking knew it—Lee Know's been crushing hard forever!"

Chan, ears flaming red but grinning despite himself, nodded furiously. "We called it! The hot-and-cold bullshit? Classic pining. We were so right."

Changbin blinked once, twice, then turned to Hyunjin with a shit-eating grin. "You owe me ten bucks. I said they'd eat each other out of boredom—even if I didn't mean it literally."

Hyunjin doubled over, laughing so hard tears pricked his eyes. "You—oh god, you win, you absolute prophet."

Upstairs, another scream ripped through the air—Han's voice cracking on Lee Know's name—sending a fresh wave of trauma through the group.

Jeongin made a strangled noise, like a dying seal, and bolted for the door first. "Nope. Nope nope nope. I am out—did not sign up for live audio porn on Christmas."

Seungmin was right behind him, face buried in his hands. "I don't care who's right or wrong, I just never wanted to hear that. Ever."

The rest followed in a chaotic scramble—Felix still whispering "vindicated!" under his breath, Chan herding them out like embarrassed sheep, Hyunjin snickering the whole way. They piled back into the cars, doors slamming, engines rumbling to life as they sat in the driveway, heat blasting to thaw the collective shock.

"What the actual fuck," Changbin muttered from the passenger seat, staring at the cabin like it was haunted. "Do we... wait? Or drive away and pretend this never happened?"

Hyunjin wiped his eyes, still chuckling. "Roads are still iffy. We wait in here. Give them... time. Lots of time."

In Chan's car, Felix leaned back with a satisfied sigh. "Best Christmas surprise ever. For them, anyway."

Jeongin groaned from the back. "Speak for yourself. I'm scarred for life."

Upstairs, the room was a haze of heat and tangled sheets. Lee Know had Han pinned beneath him, one hand braced beside his head, the other stroking him in perfect, merciless rhythm. Han was beyond words now—just broken gasps, hips bucking helplessly, tears streaking the sides of his face.

“Come for me, baby,” Lee Know finally growled against his ear, voice rough with restraint. “Let go. I’ve got you.”

The permission hit Han like a freight train. His whole body seized, back arching off the mattress as he came harder than he ever had in his life—vision whiting out, a ragged scream tearing from his throat that was half-sob, half Lee Know’s name. Wave after wave crashed through him until he was shaking, boneless, utterly spent.

Lee Know followed seconds later with a low, guttural groan, burying himself deep and stilling as he spilled inside. For a long moment they just clung to each other, breathing hard, sweat-slick skin cooling in the quiet.

Eventually Lee Know pulled out carefully, pressing soft kisses to Han’s damp temple, his jaw, the corner of his mouth. “You okay, princess?”

Han let out a weak, delirious laugh. “Think you broke me. In the best way.”

They cleaned up slowly—lazy wipes with tissues from the nightstand, soft towels from the en-suite bathroom, stealing kisses every few seconds like they couldn’t quite believe this was real. Lee Know helped Han into a clean hoodie and sweats, fingers lingering, and Han returned the favor with trembling hands, both of them grinning like idiots.

“Food,” Han declared finally, stomach growling loud enough to make Lee Know snort. “And coffee. And maybe never leaving this cabin again.”

Lee Know rolled his eyes fondly, lacing their fingers together. “Come on, needy.”

They padded downstairs barefoot, still flushed and giddy, Han leaning into Lee Know’s side like a magnet. The living room looked exactly as wrecked as they’d left it—blankets everywhere, wine glasses abandoned, tree slightly tilted from when Han had backed into it earlier.

Han stopped short at the foot of the stairs. “Hyung… are those tires?”

Lee Know followed his gaze out the wide front window. Two familiar cars sat in the driveway, lightly dusted with fresh snow.

Han's stomach dropped straight through the floor. "No. No, way."

Lee Know's grip on his hand went white-knuckled. "They weren't supposed to get here until tomorrow."

They stared at each other in dawning horror.

"...You don't think they..." Han started.

A sudden loud burst of laughter from inside one of the cars cut him off. Then another. Then unmistakable wolf-whistling. 

Han made a high-pitched noise of pure panic. “They heard us. Oh my god, they definitely heard us.”

Lee Know looked like he was calculating how far they could run into the woods before freezing to death. “We could just… not go out there. Ever.”

But the car doors were already opening. Six figures piled out into the snow, bundled in coats and scarves, grinning like absolute demons.

Han groaned and buried his face in Lee Know’s shoulder. “Kill me now.”

Lee Know took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and tugged Han toward the front door like a man walking to his execution. “Together?”

“Together,” Han mumbled miserably.

They stepped out onto the porch just as the rest of the group reached the bottom step. Forty-five minutes. They’d been sitting out there for forty-five entire minutes. Han wanted to die.

Chan was the first to speak, arms crossed, smirk enormous. “Well, well. Merry Christmas, lovebirds.”

Felix bounced forward, eyes sparkling with unholy glee. “I told you, Jisung! I literally told you last month that Minho-hyung was into you, and you looked me dead in the eye and said, ‘Lix, he hates me, he lives to make my life hell.’ Remember that?”

Han’s face went nuclear. “I hate you. I hate all of you.”

Hyunjin cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “Hey, Minho-hyung! How’s the wall holding up? Sounded like you were trying to put Han through it!”

Changbin flexed dramatically. “Damn, hyung. That stamina. Respect.”

Jeongin, still pink-cheeked, pointed an accusing finger. “I’m in therapy now. You owe me therapy money. I heard things I can’t un-hear.”

Seungmin leaned against the porch railing, deadpan. “I always knew you two had tension, but I didn’t realize it was the ‘rearrange-his-guts’ kind.”

Lee Know cleared his throat, somehow managing to look only mildly murderous. “You guys are children.”

Chan grinned wider. “Children who heard everything. Everything. ‘I’m your slut, your good whore—’”

“Hyung!” Han squeaked, mortified, trying to hide behind Lee Know’s back.

Felix cackled. “Oh, the ‘shatter me, use me’ part? Iconic. 10/10 delivery, Jisungie. Very passionate.”

Hyunjin started fake-moaning in a terrible falsetto. “Hyung—harder—please—”

Lee Know took one menacing step forward. “I will bury every single one of you in the snow.”

The group dissolved into laughter, doubling over, Jeongin actually falling to his knees in the drift.

Han covered his face with both hands, voice muffled. “I’m never showing my face again. I’m moving to Antarctica.”

Lee Know wrapped an arm around his waist, pulling him close despite the audience, pressing a kiss to his temple. “They’ll get over it,” he muttered, just loud enough for Han to hear. “Eventually.”

Chan wiped his eyes, still chuckling. “Okay, okay, we’ll stop… for now. But seriously—congrats, idiots. Took you long enough.”

Felix beamed. “Group hug?”

“Absolutely not,” Lee Know and Han said in unison.

The group laughed harder.

Han peeked through his fingers at his friends—his ridiculous, loud, embarrassing friends—and felt something warm bloom in his chest despite the burning shame.

Yeah. Best Christmas ever.

Even if he was never living this down.

After the initial onslaught of teasing died down—mostly because Lee Know had started packing a snowball with very real menace in his eyes—the group finally trudged inside, stamping snow off their boots and dumping bags of groceries and wrapped gifts by the door.

Han hovered awkwardly near the kitchen archway, cheeks still flaming. “Uh… sorry about the mess. We kinda… lost track of time.”

Hyunjin snorted, picking up a fallen ornament from the floor. “Lost track of time? Bro, you lost track of volume control.”

“Hyunjin,” Chan warned, but he was smiling as he shrugged off his coat. “Let’s just clean this up before we all freeze. It’s Christmas Eve, not Judgment Day.”

Everyone pitched in without complaint, the way they always did. Changbin and Seungmin tackled the kitchen, washing the abandoned wine glasses and wiping down counters. Felix and Jeongin righted the Christmas tree, re-hanging crooked ornaments while bickering over which bauble went where. Hyunjin gathered blankets and pillows, folding them with surprising neatness while humming off-key carols.

Lee Know and Han worked side by side in the living room, Han vacuuming up tinsel while Lee Know scrubbed at the coffee-stained rug. Every so often their eyes would meet, and Han would duck his head, biting back a shy smile. Lee Know brushed past him unnecessarily on his way to the trash, fingers grazing the small of Han’s back—just a tiny touch, but it made Han’s breath hitch anyway.

Felix noticed, of course. “Aww, look at them. Domestic already.”

“Shut up, Yongbok,” Lee Know muttered, but there was no heat in it.

Han flipped him off behind Lee Know’s back, which only made Felix laugh harder.

By the time the cabin looked respectable again, the sun was dipping low, casting golden light through the windows. Someone turned on the fairy lights strung around the tree, and the place felt warm, full, perfect.

Dinner was chaos in the best way—ramen upgraded with every ingredient they’d brought, plus grilled meat and kimchi fried rice. They crowded around the big oak table, elbows bumping, stealing from each other’s bowls, arguing over who got the last egg.

Afterward, they migrated to the living room floor in a pile of blankets and cushions. Chan plugged in the Switch, and Mario Kart became war.

“Blue shell!” Jeongin crowed, launching one straight at Changbin.

“You little—”

“Language, Binnie-hyung,” Seungmin deadpanned, smoothly overtaking both of them on the final lap.

Han ended up in Lee Know’s lap halfway through the third cup—ostensibly because there wasn’t enough space, definitely because Lee Know had tugged him there the second Han sat nearby. No one commented outright, though Hyunjin kept making exaggerated kissy faces every time Han leaned back against Lee Know’s chest.

Gift time came after the gaming tournament (which Felix won, to absolutely no one’s surprise).

They sat in a loose circle around the tree, passing presents with the solemnity of kids. Nothing extravagant—uni budgets were tight—but everything thoughtful.

Jeongin got a new sketchbook from Hyunjin and nearly tackled him in gratitude. Seungmin unwrapped noise-canceling headphones from Chan with a soft “You remembered,” that made Chan ruffle his hair proudly. Changbin handed Lee Know a tiny cat-shaped keychain that looked exactly like Soonie, and Lee Know actually smiled—small, but real.

Han’s gift from Felix was a custom playlist titled “For When Minho-hyung Finally Stops Pretending He Hates You.” Han groaned, but he was grinning as he queued it up on the speakers. Soft indie tracks filled the room, warm and nostalgic.

Lee Know waited until last to give Han his present—a simple silver bracelet with a tiny music note charm. He fastened it around Han’s wrist himself, fingers careful.

“So you stop losing your picks,” he murmured, low enough only Han could hear.

Han’s eyes went glassy. He kissed Lee Know right there in front of everyone—quick, chaste, but enough to set off a chorus of whoops and fake gagging noises.

“Get a room!” Changbin yelled.

“We have one,” Lee Know shot back without missing a beat. “Upstairs. Very soundproof—oh wait, no it isn’t.”

The room erupted. Han buried his face in Lee Know’s neck, laughing so hard his shoulders shook.

Later, when the fire was crackling low and they’d all piled under blankets for a cheesy Christmas movie, Han whispered against Lee Know’s collarbone, “Best Christmas ever?”

Lee Know pressed a kiss to his hair. “Yeah. By a mile.”

Across the room, Felix caught Chan’s eye and mouthed, Told you so.

Chan just smiled, pulled Jeongin closer under the shared blanket, and thought yeah—this one was going down as the best too.

Outside, snow kept falling softly, blanketing the world in quiet white.

Inside, eight friends—loud, ridiculous, inseparable—laughed until their sides hurt, teased without mercy, loved without hesitation.

Perfect Christmas. No contest.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

EPILOGUE

The drive back to the city on the night of December 26 was quiet, the kind of tired-happy quiet that comes after too much laughter, too little sleep, and one too many servings of Hyunjin’s experimental hot chocolate. Snow still clung to the sides of the highway, reflecting headlights in soft silver streaks. Han had fallen asleep against the passenger window twenty minutes in, hoodie pulled up, mouth slightly open, one hand loosely curled over Lee Know’s on the gearshift.

Lee Know kept glancing over every few minutes, thumb brushing absent circles over Han’s knuckles. He didn’t wake him until they pulled into the underground parking of their shared apartment building.

“Hey,” he murmured, killing the engine. “We’re home, sleeping beauty.”

Han stirred, blinking groggily. “Already? Felt like five minutes.”

“You snored for three hours straight.”

“Did not,” Han mumbled, but he was smiling as he unbuckled and leaned over the console to press a sleepy kiss to the corner of Lee Know’s mouth. “Thanks for driving.”

They hauled their bags up to the fourth floor—Han’s stuffed with half the cabin’s snack stash, Lee Know’s suspiciously light because he’d let Han pack everything. Inside their apartment it still smelled faintly of the pine candle they’d left burning too long before the trip. Han kicked off his shoes and made a beeline for the couch, flopping face-first with a dramatic groan.

“I’m dead. Revive me in 2026.”

Lee Know snorted, dropping the bags by the door. “That’s in five days, drama queen.”

Han’s voice came muffled from the cushions. “Exactly. Perfect timing.”

Lee Know watched him for a second, something soft and determined settling in his chest. He pulled out his phone, thumbing open a new message thread while Han was still half-buried in pillows.

Lee Know

yo. you free tomorrow morning? need to talk. in person.

Felix

ooh secretive. i like it.

yeah i'm free. coffee at the usual spot? 10?

Lee Know

10 works. don't tell jisung.

Felix

my lips are sealed

but now i'm VERY curious

 

The next morning, Lee Know slipped out before Han woke up, leaving a note on the fridge: gone for coffee run. be back soon. don’t eat all the cereal. He’d drawn a tiny cat face next to it because he knew it would make Han smile.

The café was warm and half-empty, fairy lights still twinkling from Christmas. Felix was already in their usual corner booth, two iced Americanos on the table despite the freezing weather outside.

“You’re buying next time,” Felix said as greeting, pushing one across. “You look like you’re plotting murder or a confession. Spill.”

Lee Know slid into the seat, fingers tapping the glass. “Neither. I want to do something for Jisung on New Year’s. Something that’s just for us, not the usual group thing.”

Felix’s brows shot up. “The usual group thing being… piling onto Chan-hyung’s rooftop with cheap fireworks and soju?”

“Exactly. We do that every year. I don’t want this one to feel like all the others.” Lee Know pulled out his phone, opened his notes, and angled it toward Felix. “I’ve got access to the rooftop of the old music building—dance department perk, the lock code never changes. Killer view of the Han River and the big fireworks at midnight. But I don’t want the fireworks to be the main thing.”

Felix nodded slowly, sipping his coffee. “Okay, I’m listening. Blankets, lights, snacks—the whole cozy setup?”

“Yeah. Fairy lights, his favorite spicy chips, that portable speaker he’s obsessed with. And…” Lee Know hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen. “I wrote him a song. Short. Just a verse and chorus. I want to sing it to him right before midnight.”

Felix froze with the straw halfway to his mouth. “Wait. Back up. You sing?”

Lee Know gave a tiny shrug, eyes on the table. “Yeah.”

“Like… properly? Not just shower karaoke?”

“I mean, I’m not training for it or anything. Lit major, dance minor—music’s never been on the résumé. But I can carry a tune. More than that, actually.”

Felix set his cup down hard enough to slosh coffee over the rim. “Minho-hyung. You’ve been hiding a whole talent from us? From Jisung? He’s literally obsessed with music. How has this never come up?”

“It just… hasn’t.” Lee Know’s voice was quiet. “I don’t sing in front of people. Ever.”

Felix stared at him for a long second, then leaned forward, voice dropping to an excited whisper. “You have to let me hear a little. Please. I need to know what we’re working with here, because if this is good, Jisung is going to straight-up combust.”

Lee Know exhaled through his nose, glancing around the empty café like someone might overhear. Then he pulled up the lyrics on his phone—Betelgeuse by Yuuri.

“This is the one I picked,” he muttered. “It’s his favorite. He plays it on loop when he’s writing or stressed. I just… changed a couple lines to make it ours.”

Felix’s eyes softened. “Oh my god. That’s why you chose it.”

Lee Know didn’t answer, just gave a tiny nod.

Felix nudged his shin under the table. “Come on. One line. Just for me. I swear I won’t tell a soul.”

Lee Know rubbed the back of his neck, ears already turning pink. After a long pause, he leaned in slightly, voice barely above a murmur, soft and low and achingly clear:

“Even if the world ends tomorrow,

I want to be by your side till the last second—

Like Betelgeuse burning red in the distance,

I’ll keep shining just for you.”

He stopped there, the last note hanging warm in the air between them.

Felix’s mouth actually fell open. He blinked once, twice, then whispered, “Holy shit, hyung.”

Lee Know immediately looked away, cheeks flushed. “It’s not that big a deal.”

“Not that big a—? Are you kidding me? Your voice is insane. It’s warm and a little rough and—” Felix clutched his chest dramatically. “Jisung is going to cry so hard he’ll short-circuit. Like, full ugly-cry, can’t speak, just clinging to you.”

Lee Know huffed a small laugh, but his eyes were bright. “That’s… kind of the goal.”

Felix reached across and grabbed his wrist. “Okay. I’m all in. Whatever you need—distraction duty on the 31st, sneaking supplies up there, keeping the rest of the group away from that rooftop—I’ve got you. Chan-hyung will help too; he’s been rooting for you two forever.”

Lee Know finally met his eyes, something vulnerable flickering there. “Thanks, Yongbok.”

Felix grinned, squeezing once before letting go. “Operation Make Han Melt is officially go. And hyung?”

“Yeah?”

“Your secret’s safe with me. Until midnight, anyway—then the whole rooftop gets to hear it.”

Lee Know rolled his eyes, but he was smiling—small, nervous, hopeful.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Then he gets to hear it.”

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

By December 27th, the glow from the cabin had started to fade for Han. At first, he chalked it up to post-holiday exaustion—everyone was crashing after the chaos. But Lee Know...Lee Know was different. He'd been quiet on the drive back, sure, but once they were home, it was like a wall had gone up. Quick pecks on the cheek instead of lingering kisses. Texts that were short, functional: Busy with dance practice, see you later. No more lazy mornings tangled in bed, no more stolen touches in the kitchen. Han tried initiating—sliding into Lee Know's lap while he scrolled on his phone, whispering about round two of cabin adventures—but Lee Know would smile faintly, ruffle his hair, and say something vague like, "Soon, Ji. Got stuff to handle."

Han told himself it was nothing. Uni was ramping up again, even in the break. But by the 28th, the doubt crept in like fog. What if it was just the isolation? The snow, the wine, the boredom. Spur of the moment. Heat of the cabin fever. He replayed every moan, every whisperd promise, dissecting them for cracks. Lee Know had called him "mine," but maybe that was just dirty talk. Maybe Han had read too much into the softness in his eyes. 

On the 29th it got worse. Han woke up alone—again. Lee Know's side of the bed cold, a note on the counter: Out with Felix. Back late. Han stared at it, heart sinking. Felix? His best friend? Why hadn't Felix mentioned anything? He texted Lee Know a casual Miss you, hyung <3, and got back a thumbs-up emoji two hours later. No words. No heart. Han's chest tightened, a familiar ache blooming. He regrets it. He realized I'm too much—too needy, too loud, too broken. Self-doubt spiraled into insecurity: memories of past flings who'd ghosted after getting what they wanted, friends who'd pulled away when Han's anxiety got "too intense." Why would Lee Know be different? He's always been hot and cold. Maybe the cold is the real him.

By December 30thj, Han was a wreck. He hadn't slept properly in days, food tasted like ash, and the apartment felt too big, too empty. Lee Know had crashed on the couch the night before—"Tired from practice," he'd mumbled—leaving Han to curl up alone, staring at the ceiling, tears silent and hot on his cheeks. It was a one-time thing. A mistake. He's pulling away because he doesn't know how to say it. The thoughts looped, vicious and unrelenting: You're not enough. You never are. Clingy, pathetic, always wanting mor than people can give. Depression wrapped around him like a shroud, heavy and suffocating. He skipped the group hangout Chan had suggested, claiming a headache, but really he just couldn't face the teasing, the knowing looks. They all probably pity me now. Poor Han, thinking it was real.

That evening, alone in the apartment—Lee Know out "running errands" again—Han hit bottom. He paced the living room, breath shallow, hands shaking. The spiral tightened: If he doesn't want you, what's the point? You ruint everything. Just like always. Self-destructive urges whispered, familiar from darker times in high school, when anxiety had driven him to the edge. Make it stop. Feel something else. Punish yourself for being so stupid. He found himself in the bathroom, door locked, staring at his reflection—pale, hollow-eyed, worthless. The razor in the drawer called to him, a sharp promise of release. 

Han's fingers trembled as he picked it up, dismantling it slowly, the blade cold against his palm. Just once. Just to feel real. He sat on the edge of the tub, sleeve rolled up, pressing the edge to his inner arm. The first prick of pain was almost a relief—sharp, grounding, drowning out the roar in his head. You deserve thigs. For believing, for hoping. Tears blurred his vision, but he pressed harder, skin parting slightly, a thin red line blooming. It'll stop the noise. It'll make you numb. His breath hitched, mind fracturing: part of him screaming to stop, the rest numbly committed, the depression whispering deeper, deeper.

The door rattled-hard. "Jisung? You in there? Open up, man,"

Chan's voice. Han froze, blade hovering, blood beading on his skin.

"Ji, come on. Felix said you've been off. Let me in."

Han's voice cracked, barely a whisper. "Go away, hyung."

"No way. I'm not leaving until—fuck it." A shoulder hit the door, wood splintering slightly as Chan forced it open. He burst in, eyes widening at the sight: Han hunched over, razor in hand, arm marked. 

"Jesus—Jisung, no." Chan lunged, gentle but firm, prying the blade from Han's fingers and tossing it into the sink. He dropped to his knees, pulling Han into a crushing hug. "Hey, hey, breathe. I've got you. You're okay."

Han shattered then, sobs wrenching out of him, body gonig limp against Chan's chest. "He doesn't want me, hyuing. It was nothing. I'm nothing."

Chan held him tighter, rocking slightly. "That's not true. You're everything. Ji. To all of us. To him."

Han shook his head violently. "He's been avoiding me. Since we got back. Like he regrets it. I thought...I thought it was real."

"It is real," Chan murmured, careful not to spill the secret. "Minho's just...dealing with stuff. Trust me on that. But this? Hurting yourself? No. We're not going there. You're stronger than this shit, and I'm here. We all are."

Han clung to him, tears soaking Chan’s shirt. “It hurts so much. I can’t… I can’t keep feeling like this.”

“I know. I know.” Chan stroked his back, voice steady. “Let’s get you cleaned up. Bandage that. Then we talk. Or don’t. Whatever you need.”

They sat there for what felt like hours—Chan disinfecting the shallow cut, wrapping it gently, murmuring reassurances. Han eventually calmed enough to slump against the wall, exhausted. “Sorry. For… this.”

“Don’t apologize. Just promise me you’ll call next time. Before it gets here.”

Han nodded weakly. “Yeah.”

Chan helped him to the couch, tucking a blanket around him. “Stay put. I’m making tea.”

While the kettle boiled, Chan pulled out his phone, thumbs flying over the screen. He fired off texts to Felix first.

Chan

felix. emergency. found ji in the bathroom with a razor. stopped him just in time, but it was close. he's spiraling hard thinks minho regrets everything that it was a one-off he's wrecked man. crying, shaking, the works. almost cut deep. you gotta tell minho to speed this up or something. he can't take more distance. 

Felix

oh god. is he okay now???

Chan

physically? yeah, shallow cut, bandaged. emotionally??? no. he's curled up like a kid, doubting everything about himself. broke my heart. 

Felix

fuck. i'll text minho right now. we're almost done with setup but this...shit

 

Chan switched threads, texting Lee Know directly. 

Chan

minho. pick up your phone if you're not already. ji's bad. really bad. walked in on him in the bathroom...razor to his arm, about to go deep. stopped him last second. he's convinced you don't want him, that the cabin was nothing. he's depressed as hell, self-hating, the whole spiral. i know about the plan, and i get it, but this distance is killing him. literally almost did. 

Lee Know

what the fuck. is he okay???? i'm coming over right now

Chan

he's stable now. with me on the couch. but hyung...he was seconds away. tears, shaking, saying he's worthless. you need to fix this without spoiling the surprise if you can, but god...

Lee Know

this is my fault. all of it. i thought keeping distance would make the surprise better

i didn't think

fuck

i'm such an idiot. should've seen this coming after the cabin incident

he's sensitive, i know that

what if i'd been too late?

what if you hadn't...

Chan

hey, breathe

you didn't know it'd go this far. but yeah, it's bad. he needs reassurance NOW

Lee Know

i'm dropping everything. tell him i'm on my way. and chan... thank you. for stopping him. i owe you my life. 

Chan

just get here. fix it.

 

Chan pocketed his phone as the kettle whistled, glancing at Han’s huddled form. “Tea’s coming, Ji. And hey—Minho’s on his way. Everything’s gonna be okay.”

Han lifted his head slightly, eyes red-rimmed and wary. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Chan sat beside him, squeezing his shoulder. “Promise.”

Lee Know's phone buzzed in his pocket like a live wire as he sprinted through the city streets, snow crunching under his boots, lungs burning from the cold air. Chan's texts replayed in his head on a loop—razor to his arm, about to go deep...convinced you don't want him...depressed as hell. His vision blurred with hot tears, but he didn't stop, didn't slow. This is my fault. All my fucking fault. I thought I was being clever, keeping distance for the surprise, but I broke him. What if Chan hadn't been there? What if he'd... The guilt clawed at him, raw and unrelenting,twisting his gut into knots. He ran faster than he ever had—faster than dance practice drills, faster than escaping paparazzi in his wildest nightmares—heart hammering like it might explode.

He burst through the door of Chan's apartment without knocking, the wood slamming against the wall with a crack that echoed down the hall. "Where is he?!" Lee Know screamed, voice cracking, frantic, barely recognizable even to himself. "Jisung! Where—"

Han jolted upright on the couch, blanket slipping off his lap, eyes wide and startled. "Hyung?"

"Living room," Chan called from the kitchen, calm but urgent, like he’d been expecting this.

Lee Know didn't wait for more. He bolted across the room, dropping to his knees in front of Han and yanking him into the fiercest hug he'd ever given—arms locked around Han's back like iron bands, face buried in the crook of his neck. Han's body went rigid for a split second, then melted into it, but Lee Know was already shaking, sobs ripping out of him uncontrollably. Tears soaked Han's shirt, hot and fast. "Ji—fuck, Ji, I'm so sorry. This is all me. All my fault. I should've seen it, should've known you'd think—god, what if you'd hurt yourself worse? What if I lost you because I'm such a stupid, selfish idiot? I did this to you. Me. I made you doubt, made you spiral, and I hate myself for it. I should've been there, should've held you every night instead of—fuck, I'm the worst. The absolute worst. You deserve so much better than this, than me pulling away like a coward—"

"Hyung," Han whispered, voice thick, but Lee Know couldn't stop, the guilt pouring out like poison he'd been holding in too long.

"No, listen—I could've prevented this. If I'd just been honest about—no, not that—but if I'd checked in more, if I'd seen the signs. You're everything, Ji, and I almost... almost let you think you're not. What kind of person does that? I hate myself right now. Hate that I hurt you like this. It's killing me, knowing you were in that bathroom, alone, thinking I didn't care. I do. I care so much it scares me, and I fucked it up—"

Han pulled back just enough to cup Lee Know's face, thumbs wiping at the tears streaming down his cheeks. His own eyes were glistening now, realization dawning like a punch to the gut—He cares. He really, really cares. But with it came a wave of shame, crashing over Han for what he'd almost done, for letting the darkness win even for a moment. "Hyung, stop. Please. You're not—it's not your fault. I... I overthought everything. I'm the one who—god, I'm sorry. For scaring you, for... this." He glanced at his bandaged arm, fresh tears spilling over. "I feel awful. I didn't mean to make you cry like this."

Lee Know shook his head fiercely, pulling Han back in, hugging him even tighter if that was possible—warm, protective, like he could shield him from the world with sheer force. "No. Don't you dare apologize. This isn't on you." He took a shuddering breath, forcing himself to steady, even as the guilt still gnawed at him inside. "I'm not distant because... because it didn't mean anything. The cabin? That was everything. You are everything. It meant the world to me, Ji. More than you know." He pressed a kiss to Han's temple, voice dropping to a raw whisper. "I'm just... working on something. Something important. That's all. I promise. But you mean the world to me. The absolute world. If you feel lonely, if it gets bad again—stay with Chan. Crash here, text him, whatever. But don't think for a second I'd ever want you to go away. I need you. Right here. With me."

Han nodded against his shoulder, sobs quieting into hiccups, the warmth of the hug seeping into his bones, chasing away the cold doubt. "Okay. Okay, hyung. I believe you."

They stayed like that for a long time—Lee Know's arms unwavering, Han's fingers clutching at his back—while Chan quietly slipped out of the room to give them space, a small, relieved smile on his face. The guilt still simmered in Lee Know's chest, a quiet storm he'd carry until midnight tomorrow, but for now, holding Han was enough. More than enough.

December 31st dawned crisp and cold, the city buzzing with that pre-New Year energy. Han woke up to his phone buzzing on the nightstand—Lee Know had already slipped out early again, with a soft kiss to his forehead and a mumbled “Got practice, see you tonight.” Han’s heart still twinged at the distance, but after the breakdown and Lee Know’s tear-soaked promises, things felt… steadier. Fragile, but steadier.

The text that pulled him fully awake was from Felix.

Felix

morning sunshine!!!! get your ass up, we're having a bestie day. no excuse. i'm picking you up in 30. wear something cute, we're going full tourist mode. 

Han

what is this, an intervention?

Felix

maybe...but mostly i miss your face andlee know-hyung said you could probably use the distraction so humor me?

Han

fine. but you're buying coffee

Felix

deal. be there soon <3

 

Thirty-five minutes later, Felix was at the door, bundled in a massive puffer jacket, freckles standing out against the cold flush on his cheeks. “There he is,” he grinned, pulling Han into a hug the second the door opened. “My favorite dramatic raccoon.”

Han groaned into his shoulder. “I hate you.”

“No you don’t. Come on, caffeine first, then we conquer the city.”

They started at their usual café, the one with the overpriced lattes and the barista who always drew cats in Felix’s foam. Han wrapped his hands around his mug, staring into it.

“So,” Felix said carefully, stirring sugar into his iced Americano like a psychopath. “You wanna talk about it, or pretend I dragged you out here purely for my own entertainment?”

Han huffed a laugh. “I was so stupid, Lix. Like… full meltdown, razor-in-hand stupid. Over a couple days of him being busy.”

Felix’s eyes softened, but he didn’t go dramatic. “Hey. Not stupid. Human. You’ve got that big brain that runs a thousand miles an hour in the worst directions sometimes. Doesn’t make you stupid, just means you feel everything at volume eleven.”

“I could’ve talked to him. Or you. Or literally anyone. Instead I just… spiraled.”

“Yeah, that part kinda sucked,” Felix admitted, reaching across to flick Han’s knuckle gently. “Next time—and there better not be a next time like that—but if your head gets loud again, you text somebody. Me, Chan-hyung, even Changbin-hyung if you’re desperate. We’re not mind readers, Ji. Talk to us.”

Han nodded, throat tight. “I know. I will. Promise.”

“Good.” Felix’s smile turned bright again. “Now that the serious bit’s over, let’s go be idiots.”

And they did.

First stop: the arcade in Hongdae, where Felix destroyed Han at every dancing game (“Unfair advantage, Mr. Aussie Dance Pro!”) and Han got revenge by winning him a massive grumpy cat plushie from the claw machine after fifteen tries and way too much money.

“His name is Sir Pouts-a-Lot,” Han declared, shoving the plush into Felix’s arms on the street.

Felix hugged it dramatically. “He’s beautiful. You’re my hero.”

Next was street food—hot tteokbokki that had them both hopping around fanning their mouths, followed by sweet hotteok that left their fingers sticky with cinnamon sugar. They took stupid selfies in front of every shiny New Year’s decoration they passed, Felix forcing Han into peace signs and heart poses.

“Evidence,” Felix said, snapping a photo of Han mid-laugh with sauce on his chin. “For when you’re old and boring and need proof you were once fun.”

“I’m always fun,” Han protested, stealing Felix’s phone to take a close-up of his freckles. “You’re the one who’s gonna be a famous dancer and forget me.”

“Never,” Felix said seriously, slinging an arm around Han’s shoulders as they walked toward the river. “You’re stuck with me forever, Jisung-ah. Best friend contract, signed in blood. Or spicy sauce, whatever.”

They ended up at the Han River just as the sun was setting, sitting on a bench with convenience store kimbap and hot chocolate, legs swinging, watching the city lights start to flicker on.

“Thanks for today,” Han said quietly. “I really needed it.”

Felix bumped their shoulders. “Anytime. That’s what I’m here for. Well, that and stealing your hoodies.”

Han snorted. “Thief.”

“Proudly.”

They were heading back toward the subway, arms linked, when Han’s phone buzzed with a group text from Chan.

Chan

hey everyone! change of plans for tonight group NYE is at the botany centre greenhouse on campus this year. meet around 10:30? bring jackets, it's chilly but the view's supposed to be sick. see you all to ring in 2026!!!!

 

Han frowned at the screen. “Botany centre? That’s… random.”

Felix glanced over, expression perfectly neutral. “Huh. Yeah, weird choice.”

Han shot off a private text to Chan.

Han

botany centre? since when do we celebrate in a greenhouse hyung?

Chan

wanted to switch it up this year! be unique yknow? plus apparently the football team booked the music building rooftop for some massive party, didn't wanna deal with the chaos. 

Han

ohhh okay that makes sense. the football guys are animals. cool, i'll be there. 

Chan

perfect. see you tonight ji

 

Han pocketed his phone, shrugging at Felix. “Football team took the usual roof. Makes sense, those guys are loud as hell.”

Felix nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, totally! Greenhouse sounds kinda magical actually. Plants and fairy lights and stuff.”

Han laughed. “You’re such a romantic.”

“Guilty.” Felix squeezed his arm. “Come on, let’s get you home so you can get pretty for midnight.”

Han rolled his eyes, but his heart felt light—lighter than it had in days. Whatever the night brought, at least he had this: Felix next to him, Sir Pouts-a-Lot under his arm, and the promise of his friends waiting under glass and stars.

He had no idea what was really coming.

Han got back to the apartment around 7:30 p.m., cheeks still pink from the cold and the laughter he’d shared with Felix all day. The place was quiet—Lee Know still out, probably at whatever mysterious “practice” he’d been disappearing to. Han tried not to let the empty rooms sting. Tonight was for the group, for new beginnings, for not overthinking.

His phone buzzed almost immediately.

Felix

dropping by in 10 to help you get ready. no arguments. you're gonna look HOT tonight. 

Han

i know how to dress myself, mom

Felix

yeah but you always wear the same black hoodie. let me work my magic. 

 

True to his word, Felix let himself in ten minutes later, arms loaded with a garment bag, a small makeup pouch, and two cans of iced coffee like bribes.

“Emergency caffeine,” he announced, handing one over. “Now strip. We’re doing this properly.”

Han raised an eyebrow. “Strip? Bold.”

Felix rolled his eyes, shoving him toward the bedroom. “Shirt and jeans off, drama king. I brought options.”

They turned Han’s room into a makeshift styling station. Felix had raided his own closet—and apparently Hyunjin’s—for pieces Han would never pick himself: a soft cream oversized knit sweater that slipped off one shoulder, slim black pants that actually fit properly, and a long charcoal coat that made Han look taller, sharper.

“Sit,” Felix ordered, pushing him onto the desk chair. He unzipped the makeup pouch with a flourish. “Just a little. Trust me.”

Han eyed him warily. “If you make me look like a K-drama second lead, I’m disowning you.”

Felix grinned, already dabbing concealer under Han’s eyes. “Please. I’m making you the main character tonight.”

He worked quickly but carefully—light foundation to even out the tired shadows that still lingered from the past few days, a touch of tinted moisturizer for glow, subtle brow grooming. Then a bit of shimmery eyeshadow in the inner corners (“Just to catch the light, Ji, relax”), and the tiniest smudge of eyeliner that made Han’s eyes look bigger, brighter.

“Lip tint or gloss?” Felix mused, holding up two options.

Han groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Yes. You have nice lips. Let the world suffer.”

He went with a muted berry tint that made Han’s mouth look soft and plush. Finally, Felix ran product through Han’s hair, tousling the curls just right so they fell perfectly over his forehead.

Felix stepped back, hands on hips, surveying his work like an artist. “Holy shit.”

Han turned to the mirror and actually paused. He looked… good. Really good. The sweater made his collarbones stand out, the makeup subtle but enhancing, the hair fluffy and touchable. He looked warm, pretty, a little ethereal—like someone who belonged under greenhouse lights and stars.

“Damn, Lix,” he said quietly, turning his head side to side. “I look… kinda hot?”

Felix beamed, proud and soft at the same time. “You always are. I just turned the volume up a little.”

Han met his eyes in the mirror, smiling shyly. “Thanks. Seriously. Today, this… all of it.”

Felix waved him off, but his voice was gentle. “Anytime. You deserve to feel good tonight.”

He started packing up his supplies, then hesitated. “So, uh… small change of plans. I promised Hyunjin I’d swing by and help him too—he’s having a wardrobe crisis, apparently. Would you be okay heading to the botany centre first? Chan-hyung and Changbin are already there setting up.”

Han frowned, tugging at the sleeve of the sweater. “By myself? That’s… kinda weird. We always go together.”

Felix pulled out his phone immediately, scrolling to a text thread and holding it up. “Look—Chan-hyung texted me like twenty minutes ago.”

The screen showed:

Chan

we're already at the botany centre! lights are up, it looks sick in here. changbin brought speakers lol

Chan

tell ji not to worry if he gets there before you guys

 

Han read it, the unease settling a bit. “Okay, yeah. That makes sense. Greenhouse is big, probably takes time to set up.”

Felix nodded, maybe a touch too enthusiastically. “Exactly! You’ll be fine. Just head over whenever you’re ready. I’ll be there soon with the drama twins.”

Han laughed. “Tell Hyunjin not to take three hours deciding between two identical black shirts.”

“Will do.” Felix slung his bag over his shoulder, pausing at the door to give Han one last once-over. “You really do look incredible, Ji. Like… midnight-kiss worthy.”

Han flushed, shooing him out. “Go away, sap.”

Felix grinned and disappeared down the hall.

Alone again, Han took one final look in the mirror, smoothing the sweater, adjusting the coat over his arm. He grabbed his phone, keys, wallet—then hesitated, typing a quick text to Lee Know.

Han

heading to the botany centre soon. see you there? <3

 

He stared at the typing bubble that appeared, then vanished, then didn’t come back. A tiny flicker of old doubt tried to spark, but Han pushed it down. Lee Know would be there. Everyone would.

He slipped on his shoes, turned off the lights, and stepped out into the cold night, breath fogging in front of him, heart thumping with a mix of nerves and quiet excitement.

The greenhouse was waiting.

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Han pushed open the heavy glass door of the botany centre greenhouse, the humid warmth hitting him like a gentle wave after the biting December air outside. The place was supposed to be closed for the holidays, but the door had been unlocked—just like Chan’s text implied someone was already inside.

Except… it was quiet. Too quiet. No Changbin yelling about speakers, no Chan laughing at something dumb. Just the soft trickle of the indoor fountain and the faint rustle of leaves in the artificial breeze.

String lights twinkled overhead, thousands of them woven through the tropical vines and hanging ferns, turning the whole greenhouse into a golden, glowing dream. The paths were lined with tea candles in glass jars, flickering softly, leading deeper inside like a trail of stars.

Han’s breath caught. “What the…?”

Then he saw him.

Lee Know stood at the end of the candle-lit path, dressed in a way Han had never seen him before: tailored black wool coat open over a crisp white shirt, slim trousers, hair styled just enough to look effortlessly perfect. He looked… breathtaking. And nervous. His hands were clasped in front of him, and when their eyes met, the softest, most vulnerable smile spread across his face.

“Hyung?” Han whispered, coat still half-on, heart already racing.

Lee Know walked forward slowly, every step deliberate, until he was right in front of Han. Then, without a word, he sank down onto one knee.

Han’s brain short-circuited. “Wait—hyung—”

Lee Know reached up gently, taking Han’s cold hand in both of his warm ones. “Hi, baby,” he said, voice low and steady, even though his eyes were shining. “I’m sorry for all the disappearing. I’m sorry for making you doubt even for a second. But I needed time to make this perfect. For you.”

Han stared down at him, throat tight. “This… this is where you’ve been?”

Lee Know huffed a tiny laugh, nodding. “Every night this week. Felix and Chan helped. Hyunjin too, when he wasn’t complaining about the humidity frizzing his hair.” He squeezed Han’s hand. “Come with me?”

Han could only nod, speechless.

Lee Know stood, but didn’t let go of his hand as he led him deeper into the greenhouse. The air smelled like night-blooming jasmine and damp earth. In the very center, beneath the glass dome where the sky was visible—dark now, speckled with early stars—was a large cream blanket spread on the ground, piled with plush pillows in soft neutrals. A low wooden tray sat in the middle: a full picnic dinner—kimbap rolls cut into perfect hearts, spicy tteokbokki in a heated thermos, grilled meat skewers, fresh strawberries dipped in chocolate, even a tiny bottle of sparkling cider with two glasses. Fairy lights were draped in a canopy above it, and Han’s favorite portable speaker sat discreetly to the side, playing something soft and acoustic.

Han stopped at the edge of the blanket, taking it all in. “Hyung… this is insane. You did all this?”

“I wanted our first New Year’s together to be just us,” Lee Know said quietly, stepping close behind him, arms sliding around Han’s waist. “Not the group chaos—well, they’ll probably crash later with soju and noise makers—but midnight? That’s ours.”

Han turned in his arms, eyes glassy. “I thought… I thought maybe you were pulling away because—”

Lee Know cut him off gently, pressing a finger to his lips. “Never. Not for a second. You’re stuck with me, Han Jisung. For every year after this one, too.”

Han laughed wetly, leaning in to kiss him—slow, soft, tasting like relief and strawberries and home. When they pulled apart, Lee Know tugged him down onto the blanket, settling among the pillows, pulling Han against his side.

“Eat first,” Lee Know said, handing him a heart-shaped kimbap roll with a shy grin. “Then I’ve got something else for you before midnight.”

Han took a bite, moaning dramatically at the taste. “You made these?”

“Felix supervised. I only burned three batches.”

Han laughed, leaning his head on Lee Know’s shoulder, looking up through the glass at the stars starting to shine brighter. The greenhouse felt like a secret world—just them, warm and glowing and perfect.

Everything made sense now. Every late night, every vague excuse.

And Han had never felt more loved in his life.

They finished the picnic slowly, feeding each other strawberries and stealing sips of cider between lazy kisses, the greenhouse warm and quiet around them. Han was half-sprawled across Lee Know’s lap, head on his thigh, staring up through the glass dome at the stars while Lee Know’s fingers carded gently through his curls.

At some point Lee Know shifted, pulling his phone from his coat pocket with a mischievous little grin. “Hold on. I almost forgot.”

Han lifted his head, curious. “What?”

Lee Know unlocked the screen, scrolled for a second, and then turned it toward Han. The familiar pink-and-black icon stared back at him: the couple’s game app they’d downloaded at the cabin on a drunken dare—the one that had started with “harmless” questions and ended with them naked and breathless against the living-room wall.

Han’s eyes went wide. “No way. You still have that installed?”

“Of course I do,” Lee Know said, laughing softly. “Deleted it off your phone when you weren’t looking so I could keep the memories all to myself.”

“You absolute menace.” Han sat up properly, snatching the phone. Their score was still there—ridiculously high, with little flame emojis next to half the questions. “Oh my god, look at these. ‘Who’s more likely to beg?’ You answered me, I answered you, and we both got it right.”

Lee Know leaned in, chin on Han’s shoulder. “Inside joke number one: we’re both pathetic for each other.”

Han scrolled further, giggling. “‘Describe your partner’s kink in three emojis.’ Yours for me was 🐰🍑🔥. Accurate, rude, and I’m flattered.”

“I stand by it.” Lee Know kissed the side of his neck. “Anyway, I checked last week—they dropped a New Year edition. Thought we could do a few. For old times’ sake.”

Han’s smile turned soft and fond. “You’re such a secret romantic.”

“Only for you. Now hit play.”

Lee Know tapped the “New Year Edition” banner. The screen shifted to a sparkly midnight-blue background with gold confetti animation. The first question popped up in elegant script:

What's one thing you want mroe of with your partner in the new year? 

 

Lee Know read it aloud, voice low. “You first.”

Han thought for a second, cheeks pink. “Lazy mornings. Like… waking up slow, no rush, just you making me coffee and then dragging me back to bed.”

Lee Know’s eyes crinkled. “Cute. Mine’s similar—more quiet nights like this. Just us, no distractions. Though I’ll allow dragging you to bed too.”

They both tapped their answers; the app chimed happily: Perfect match!

Next question:

What moment from this year with your partner will you never forget?

 

Han didn’t even hesitate. “The cabin. All of it. But specifically… you calling me yours for the first time. I still get butterflies thinking about it.”

Lee Know’s expression went tender. He brushed a thumb over Han’s cheek. “For me it’s the same night—when you let me take care of you after. You looked at me like… like I was everything. I knew right then I was gone for you.”

The app dinged again: Another match.

They kept going, legs tangled under the blanket, stealing kisses between answers.

One word to describe how your partner makes you feel in 2026?

 

Han: “Safe.”

Lee Know: “Alive.”

(Not a match, but the app gave them a little heart anyway.)

What's a small promise you're making to your parthner for the new year? 

 

Han bit his lip. “I’ll talk to you when my head gets loud. No more spiraling alone.”

Lee Know swallowed, eyes glassy for a second. “I promise to never make you doubt again. And to plan more ridiculously cheesy dates.”

The app exploded in virtual fireworks: Soulmate level achieved!

Han laughed, setting the phone aside and crawling fully into Lee Know’s lap, arms around his neck. “We’re disgustingly perfect, huh?”

“Yeah,” Lee Know murmured, hands settling on Han’s waist. “We really are.”

Outside the glass, the city started to light up faintly in the distance—early fireworks from impatient celebrants. Inside, the greenhouse glowed soft and gold, their little world untouched.

“Five minutes to midnight,” Lee Know whispered, glancing at his watch.

Han smiled against his lips. “Plenty of time for one more question.”

“Ask me anything.”

Han pulled back just enough to meet his eyes. “No app this time. Real one.”

Lee Know nodded, waiting.

“Be my New Year’s kiss?” Han asked, voice small but steady. “And… all the ones after that?”

Lee Know’s answer was a kiss—slow, deep, and certain—seconds ticking down around them.

“Always,” he said against Han’s mouth. “Every year. Every midnight. Every day in between.”

And when the clock finally struck twelve, the sky beyond the dome erupting in real fireworks, they didn’t even look up.

They were too busy keeping their promises already.

The fireworks were still blooming across the sky in distant bursts of color, but inside the greenhouse, time felt suspended. Han was curled against Lee Know’s chest, lips tingling from their midnight kiss, the taste of cider and strawberries lingering between them.

Lee Know pulled back slowly, just enough to look at him. His eyes were bright, a little nervous, a lot in love.

“One more thing,” he whispered, voice barely louder than the fountain nearby. “I have a surprise.”

Han tilted his head, still dazed and happy. “Another one? Hyung, you’ve already outdone every romance movie ever made tonight.”

Lee Know smiled—small, shy, the kind of smile Han rarely saw—and reached into the inner pocket of his coat. He pulled out the familiar little black portable speaker, the one with the scuffed corner and the tiny sticker Han had put on it ages ago.

Han’s jaw actually dropped. “Wait—that’s my speaker! I’ve been looking for this thing for three days! I thought I lost it at the arcade with Felix—”

“You didn’t,” Lee Know said softly, turning it over in his hands. “I borrowed it. Needed it for this.”

He pressed play.

The first notes floated out—gentle piano, swelling strings, the orchestral arrangement of Betelgeuse. Han recognized it instantly; it was the instrumental version he always played when he was writing lyrics late at night. But this one was different—slower, more intimate, like it had been rearranged just for this moment. No vocals. Just space.

Han’s breath caught. “Hyung… how did you—”

Lee Know didn’t answer with words. He just shifted, pulling Han closer so Han’s back was against his chest, arms wrapped securely around his waist, chin resting on his shoulder. Then, in the softest, brightest voice Han had ever heard—clear and warm and full of feeling—Lee Know began to sing.

Sekai ga owaru made

until the world comes to an end

Saigo no toki made soba ni itai yo

I want to stay by your side until the very last moment

Betelgeuse no you ni akaku moete

Burning red like Betelgeuse

Kimi dake o terashitai...

I want to shine on you alone...

 

His voice was gentle, a little husky at the edges, but so steady, so tender—like sunlight breaking through clouds. Every note felt like it was meant only for Han, wrapped around him in the humid air of the greenhouse.

Han’s eyes filled instantly. He didn’t even try to stop the tears.

He had no idea Lee Know could sing. No idea he even knew this was his favorite song. No idea he could sing it in Japanese—like he’d practiced it a hundred times just to get the emotion right.

A sob tore out of Han’s throat, shaky and overwhelmed. He turned in Lee Know’s arms, burying his face in his neck, hands clutching at his shirt.

Lee Know didn’t stop. He kept singing, one hand cradling the back of Han’s head, the other steady on his waist.

Kimi ga inai to boku wa

If you're not here, I

Hitori de naku dake ni naru kara

Will end up doing nothing but crying by myself

Zutto soba ni ite kure yo...

So please, stay by my side forever...

 

Han was crying so hard he could barely breathe—quiet, hiccuping sobs that shook his whole body. Not sad tears. Just… too much love, all at once. Too much wonder. Too much everything.

When the last note faded, Lee Know let the instrumental play out softly, pressing kisses to Han’s temple, his wet cheeks, the corner of his trembling mouth.

“You—” Han tried, voice cracking completely. “When did you—how do you even—Japanese? Singing? Hyung, what the hell—”

Lee Know laughed quietly, a little teary himself now. “I’ve always been able to sing. Just… never wanted anyone to hear it. Until you.” He brushed Han’s tears away with his thumbs. “And I’ve heard you play this song on loop for two years straight. Of course I know it. I learned every word. For you.”

Han made a broken sound and kissed him—messy, desperate, tasting like salt and gratitude and home.

“You’re unreal,” he whispered against Lee Know’s lips. “You’re actually unreal.”

Lee Know just held him tighter, the speaker still playing the fading strings, fireworks long forgotten outside.

“No,” he murmured. “You are.”

And under the glass sky, surrounded by candlelight and blooming night flowers, Han cried happy tears until he had none left—safe, loved, and finally, completely sure.

Han’s tears had barely dried when he surged forward, capturing Lee Know’s mouth in a kiss that started soft—gratitude, wonder, love—but quickly turned hungry. Lips parted, tongues met, slow and deliberate at first, then deeper, more desperate, like they were trying to pour everything unspoken into it. Han’s hands slid up Lee Know’s chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them.

Lee Know groaned quietly into the kiss, one hand cupping Han’s jaw, the other slipping under the cream sweater to trace warm skin along his spine. Han arched into the touch, a soft whimper escaping as Lee Know’s fingers splayed across his lower back, pressing him flush against his body. They shifted on the blanket without breaking apart—Han straddling Lee Know’s lap now, knees sinking into the pillows, hands moving restlessly: through Lee Know’s hair, down his neck, tugging at his collar like he needed more skin, more contact, more everything.

The greenhouse air felt thicker, warmer, the fairy lights casting golden shadows over them as they caressed—slow drags of palms, teasing scratches of nails, breaths coming faster. Han rolled his hips instinctively, drawing a low, rough sound from Lee Know that sent heat pooling low in his stomach.

Lee Know pulled back just enough to breathe, forehead resting against Han’s, both of them panting. “God, you’re gonna kill me,” he muttered, voice wrecked. Then he reached blindly for his phone on the blanket, thumbing open the group chat with one hand while the other stayed firmly on Han’s waist, keeping him close.

Lee Know

greenhouse is officially off-limits for the night. unless you all want a repeat of the cabin trauma, stay far away. 

 

He hit send without hesitation, then tossed the phone aside—far enough that it landed softly among the pillows.

Han laughed breathlessly against his mouth. “You’re evil.”

“Protective,” Lee Know corrected, nipping at Han’s bottom lip. “Mine.”

The phone buzzed once. Lee Know glanced at it long enough to see Chan’s reply.

Chan

message received loud and clear 😂

we’ll stay downtown. have fun, lovebirds. don’t break the plants.

 

Lee Know smirked, turning the screen off and dropping the phone out of reach this time.

“Good,” he murmured, hands sliding up Han’s thighs, pulling him down harder into his lap. “Now where were we?”

Han answered by kissing him again—deeper, hungrier, fingers already working at the buttons of Lee Know’s shirt. Outside, the city celebrated the new year with distant cheers and fireworks. Inside the greenhouse, under strings of light and blooming vines, they celebrated in their own way—tangled together, breathless and desperate, finally, completely alone.

No interruptions this time.

Just them.

Lee Know’s shirt fell open under Han’s insistent fingers, buttons scattered like forgotten stars on the blanket. The kiss had ignited something primal between them—hungry, unyielding, a fire that had been smoldering since the cabin and now roared to life under the greenhouse glass. Han’s hands roamed greedily over Lee Know’s chest, nails scraping lightly over toned muscle, feeling the heat of his skin, the rapid thud of his heart mirroring Han’s own. Every touch sent sparks through Han’s body, a delicious ache building low in his belly, his cock already half-hard against the confines of his pants.

“Hyung,” Han gasped as Lee Know’s mouth moved to his neck, sucking a mark just below his ear—hard enough to bruise, soft enough to tease. The slight sting made Han’s hips buck involuntarily, grinding down into Lee Know’s lap where he could feel the growing hardness pressing back against him. “Need you. Now.”

Lee Know pulled back, eyes dark and hooded, lips swollen and glistening. He traced a thumb over Han’s bottom lip, pushing it inside just enough for Han to suck on it instinctively. “Look at you,” he murmured, voice low and rough, laced with that perfect mix of affection and command. “So desperate already. My pretty little slut, begging before I’ve even touched you properly.” The words hit Han like a caress and a slap—degradation wrapped in praise, making his cheeks flush hot with shame and arousal. He whimpered around the thumb, nodding, because god, yes, he was desperate, and hearing Lee Know say it only made him harder.

But there was love in it too—Lee Know’s free hand cupped Han’s face gently, eyes softening even as his words stayed filthy. “You’re so good for me, baby. Always so eager to please. Gonna make you feel amazing tonight. Gonna fuck you into the new year like the perfect whore you are.”

Han’s breath hitched, a full-body shiver running through him. He’d always loved this—the way Lee Know could balance the edge of humiliation with unwavering adoration, making him feel owned and cherished all at once. “Please,” he whispered, voice breaking. “Want to be yours. All yours.”

Lee Know smiled, predatory and tender, and flipped them in one smooth motion—Han on his back now, pillows cushioning him as Lee Know hovered above, shedding his coat and shirt completely. The greenhouse air was humid, clinging to their skin like a lover’s breath, the scent of blooming flowers mixing with the faint musk of arousal. Lee Know’s hands worked Han’s sweater up and off, exposing his chest to the warm air, nipples pebbling instantly under the exposure. He leaned down, mouth latching onto one, sucking hard while his fingers pinched the other—sharp tugs that sent jolts of pleasure-pain straight to Han’s cock.

“Fuck—hyung!” Han arched off the blanket, hands fisting in Lee Know’s hair, pulling just enough to earn a growl. The sensation was electric—wet heat from Lee Know’s tongue, the graze of teeth, the way it made his skin tingle and his mind fuzzy with need. Every flick and bite built the heat, making him squirm, his pants feeling unbearably tight.

Lee Know chuckled against his skin, the vibration humming through Han’s chest. “So sensitive. My needy princess, falling apart from just this.” He kissed lower, trailing his tongue down Han’s sternum, over his ribs, dipping into his navel while his hands unbuttoned Han’s pants. “Gonna prep you slow, baby. Make you beg for every finger. You like that, don’t you? Being my good little toy.”

Han nodded frantically, lifting his hips as Lee Know tugged his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock to the air. It slapped against his stomach, hard and leaking, the cool contrast of the greenhouse making him hiss. “Yes—god, yes. Use me, hyung. Please.”

Lee Know’s eyes darkened further at the sight, his own arousal straining against his trousers. He shrugged them off quickly, along with his boxers, kneeling naked between Han’s spread legs. Han couldn’t look away—Lee Know’s cock was thick, veined, curving slightly, already beading at the tip. The sight made Han’s mouth water, his hole clenching in anticipation.

But first—prep. Lee Know reached for a small bottle of lube he’d hidden under one of the pillows, popping the cap with a click that echoed in Han’s ears like a promise. He coated his fingers generously, the slick sound obscene in the quiet space. “Spread wider for me, slut,” he ordered softly, and Han obeyed instantly, knees falling open, exposing himself completely. The vulnerability made his heart race—exposed, wanton, but safe in Lee Know’s gaze.

Lee Know circled Han’s rim with one slick finger, teasing the tight muscle without pushing in. The touch was feather-light at first, then firmer, sending shivers up Han’s spine. “Feel that? So tight for me. Gonna open you up nice and slow.” He pressed in finally, one finger breaching Han with ease from the lube, the intrusion burning just enough to make Han gasp. The stretch was immediate—warm, insistent, curling slightly to brush that spot inside that made stars burst behind Han’s eyelids.

“Oh—fuck, right there,” Han moaned, hips lifting to chase the feeling. Lee Know added a second finger, scissoring them gently, the slick slide audible, the pressure building deliciously. Han felt every inch—the way his walls clenched around the digits, the drag against sensitive nerves, the fullness that wasn’t quite enough yet. “More, hyung. Please—I can take it.”

Lee Know leaned down to kiss him, swallowing his pleas, while his fingers worked deeper, thrusting in a steady rhythm. “Such a greedy whore,” he whispered against Han’s lips, but his tone was pure praise, eyes full of adoration. “Taking my fingers so well. Look at you, dripping for me already.” A third finger joined, the stretch bordering on pain now, but the good kind—the kind that made Han’s toes curl and his cock twitch against his stomach, precome pooling there. He rocked back onto Lee Know’s hand, fucking himself shamelessly, breaths coming in ragged pants.

“Hyung—close—don’t let me come yet,” Han begged, the coil in his gut tightening dangerously. Every thrust of those fingers hit his prostate, sending waves of pleasure crashing through him—hot, electric, making his thighs tremble and his vision blur.

Lee Know slowed, pulling his fingers out with a wet pop that made Han whine at the emptiness. “Not yet, baby. You come on my cock tonight. Raw, just like you want. Feel me fill you up completely.” The words sent a fresh rush of heat through Han—he loved the idea, the intimacy of it, no barriers, just them.

Lee Know slicked himself up quickly, the lube glistening on his length as he positioned himself at Han’s entrance. “Ready, my perfect slut?” he asked, voice thick with restraint, eyes locked on Han’s.

Han nodded, pulling him down for a kiss. “Yes—fuck me, hyung. Make me yours.”

Lee Know pushed in slow—one inch at a time, the bare heat of him overwhelming. Han felt everything: the blunt pressure at his rim, the stretch as the head breached, the slow glide filling him inch by inch until Lee Know was seated fully, hips flush against Han’s ass. No condom meant raw sensation—the velvet heat of skin on skin, the way Lee Know throbbed inside him, every vein and ridge dragging against his walls. Han’s breath stuttered, a moan tearing from his throat at the fullness, the intimacy so intense it bordered on spiritual.

“God—you’re so tight, so fucking perfect,” Lee Know groaned, holding still to let Han adjust, forehead pressed to his. His hands gripped Han’s hips, thumbs rubbing soothing circles even as his voice dipped filthy. “Taking me raw like the good whore you are. Feel that? All mine, baby. Gonna ruin you for anyone else.”

Han clenched around him experimentally, drawing a hiss from Lee Know, the movement sending sparks through both of them. “Move—please, hyung. Hard.”

Lee Know didn’t need more. He pulled back almost all the way, then slammed in—deep, relentless, setting a rhythm that had Han seeing stars. Each thrust was precise, angled to hit that spot every time, the slap of skin on skin echoing in the greenhouse, mingling with their moans. Han’s nails dug into Lee Know’s back, leaving red trails, the pain only spurring him on. “Yes—fuck, just like that. You’re so good, hyung. So big—filling me up so well.”

Lee Know’s pace quickened, one hand wrapping around Han’s cock, stroking in time with his thrusts—firm, slick from precome. “That’s it, princess. Moan for me. Let me hear how much you love being my dirty little secret.” The degradation made Han’s head spin, but the praise in “my” kept him grounded, loved. Feelings overwhelmed him—adoration for this man who knew exactly how to break him and put him back together, the security in their connection, the raw vulnerability of going bare.

Sweat slicked their bodies, the humid air making everything stickier, hotter. Han’s orgasm built fast—the coil snapping as Lee Know whispered, “Come for me, baby. Show me how good I make you feel.” Han shattered, crying out Lee Know’s name, come spilling hot over Lee Know’s hand and his own stomach in thick ropes. His walls clenched rhythmically, pulling Lee Know over the edge too—he thrust deep one last time, groaning low as he came inside, raw and hot, filling Han with pulse after pulse.

They collapsed together, breathless, tangled in limbs and blankets. Lee Know stayed inside for a moment, softening slowly, kissing Han’s forehead, his eyelids, his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, no kink now—just pure, aching truth. “So much.”

Han smiled, tears pricking again—from joy, from the afterglow. “Love you too, hyung. Happy 2026.”

Outside, the world moved on. Inside, they stayed wrapped in each other, entering the new year exactly as they wanted: together, raw, and utterly in love.