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The dorm is unusually quiet.
The lights are dimmed, schedules finally done, exhaustion settling into the walls. The kind of quiet that only comes when everyone has run out of energy to be loud.
Anxin lies on his bed, phone resting loosely in his hand as he scrolls without really seeing anything. His brain felt too full and too empty at the same time, like it doesn’t know where to land.
Across the room, Xinlong, sits at his desk, shoulders hunched slightly, unusually quiet.
He's been like that for twenty minutes now, Anxin noted absently.
Not tense, just quiet in a way that made it hard to read.
Is he in a bad mood or something? Anxin wonders, glancing over from time to time. Xinlong hasn’t looked up once, eyes fix on whatever he is typing, fingers moving steadily and pausing to think of the next words carefully. But Anxin doesn’t want to pry.
Probably just tired. Anxin thinks before turning back to his phone just as it buzzes in his hand.
11:37PM
Sangwonie-hyung:
Can you come to my room for a bit?
Anxin stares at the message a second longer than necessary. His heart did that stupid little skip it always does whenever Sangwon asks for something so simple, so casual.
Carefully, he slides off the bed, pulls on a hoodie, and glances back once more to his roommate, who’s still too focused on whatever he is doing which seems so serious enough that Anxin slipping out will go unnoticed. So Anxin slips out without a word and pads into the hallway.
It doesn't take long for Anxin to reach the older's room. He knocks twice before twisting the doorknobs, unlocked, open.
“Hey,” Sangwon greets softly when he sees the younger, a gentle smile blooming on his face, the kind that always makes Anxin feel like the world has slowed down just for them.
“Hi,” Comes Anxin’s reply as he steps inside and closes the door behind him.
The room smells faintly of clean laundry and something unmistakenly Sangwon, that wraps around Anxin instantly, warm and familiar.
Sangwon is lying on the bed with a book in his hand, glasses slightly crooked, hair falling into his eyes.
“Is everything okay?” Anxin asks gently, while walking over and stopping beside the bed, looking down at him.
Sangwon didn’t answer. Instead, he reaches out, catches Anxin’s wrist, and tugs him down without a word.
The latter barely has time to react before he is being pulled down onto the bed, laughter caught in his chest. Sangwon scoots over immediately, moving slightly aside so that Anxin can fit in more comfortably. His head settles against Anxin’s chest like it's the most natural thing in the world.
Anxin’s arms come up automatically, wrapping around the older.
“You alright?” Anxin murmurs, fingers threading lightly through Sangwon’s blonde lock.
“Mm,” Sangwon hums, voice muffles where his face is buried against Anxin’s neck. “Just…miss you.”
That earns a snort from Anxin. “We saw each other like…an hour ago.”
“I know,” Sangwon said. “Still miss you”
Anxin lets out a soft chuckle, pressing a kiss to the top of Sangwon’s head, his hand moving in slow circles against his back.
They stay like that for a while.
Long enough that Sangwon’s breathing evens out, heavy and warm against his chest.
Long enough that Anxin forgets what time it is.
“What were you doing before I came?” Anxin asks eventually.
Sangwon shifts a little. “Trying to read.”
“Trying?”
Sangwon sighs, “Yeah. I keep rereading the same page.”
Anxin smiles. “Why?”
Sangwon hums, thinking. “My brain won’t shut up.”
“About?”
“Stuffs.”
“That’s…helpful.” Anxin teases, though voice gentle and low.
“I’m serious.” Sangwon tilts his head slightly, cheek pressing more firmly against Anxin’s chest. “It’s loud in here today.”
Anxin’s fingers slow in Sangwon’s hair, suddenly concerned, “Anything I can do?”
“Mm. You’re already doing it.”
That makes Anxin go quiet.
“You’re doing really well,” Anxin murmurs.
A pause.
“You’re already doing so well.”
There goes that line. Those words always loosen something in Sangwon’s chest. The tension, he didn’t realise he was holding, eases.
“…I like when you say that,” Sangwon admits.
Anxin smiles, pressing a kiss into Sangwon’s hair. “Good. I’ll say it more.”
“Please do.”
They let the silence settles again. Comfortable, unforced. The kind that doesn’t need to be filled.
Sangwon realises distantly that this might be his favorite version of them. Wrapped around each other’s arms and getting lost in each other’s warmth.
Sangwon exhales. “Anxin-ah”
“Hm?” The younger hums.
“Thank you for coming.” The older continues, voice smaller now.
“Anything for you always, hyung,” Anxin replies tenderly.
Sangwon huffs softly, face burying deeper into Anxin’s neck, “Don’t you think you’re spoiling me too much?”
“Well…that’s the goal.” Anxin says teasingly. “Don’t you like it?”
“I like it too much, it’s not healthy anymore,” Sangwon jokes back, making Anxin chuckle.
There is a pause, then out of nowhere Anxin mutters, “Thank you for reaching out.”
Sangwon pauses. He has never thought anyone would thank him for asking help. “You're gonna make me cry,” he replies, voice about to crack.
Anxin chuckles again, breaths warm against Sangwon’s hair.
He opens his mouth to reply, but then—
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sudden sound startled them both.
“What the—” Anxin groans softly, fumbling for the sound,
Sangwon froze.
Anxin reaches over the side of the bed, grabbing Sangwon’s phone from the table instinctively.
In the background the clock stikes
00:00 (December 25th)
“Who even set an alarm at this hou—” before he can finish, he feels a soft lip pressed to his cheek.
“Happy birthday, baby boy,” Sangwon said quietly.
Then, softer, “I love you.”
For a second, Anxin forgets how breathing works. He slowly turns his head to look at the guy next to him.
Sangwon isn’t looking back. His eyes fix somewhere near Anxin’s collarbone, the tip of his ears turn pink, hand clutching Anxin’s shirt where his hand still rests on, suddenly too hyperaware of what he just did and becomes nervous.
The moment stretches. Too quiet.
Anxin feels the words crowding his chest, pressing against his ribs, begging to be let out. But before he can say a word, the older slips out of his arms and sits up, crossing the room to his desk.
“Oh—wait, hold on,” Sangwon said quickly.
“Hyung—” Anxin started, heart pounding as he watches Sangwon opens one of his drawer and pulls out a neatly wrapped box, hands careful as he brings it back.
“It’s—” Sangwon pauses, then holds it out, smiling nervously. “Here” followed by a quieter “Happy birthday, baby! And Merry Christmas!”
Anxin sits up slowly, eyes locked on him. His hand reaches out to accept the present while feeling like his brain has just short-circuited.
“This one is for your Birthday. I’ll give you the Christmas present later today. ” Sangwon said nervously, not daring to look straight at the younger. “Right now, I just want you to focus on your birthday.”
Anxin is not sure what to do first. He wants to say thank you. Wants to pull Sangwon back into his arms. Wants to kiss him properly, to make sure Sangwon knows how much this meant to him—
“Anxin-ah! Where are you?” A voice echoes through the dorm—they recognise it as Junseo’s—urgently trying to find the birthday boy, who’s clearly not in his room.
Before Anxin can answer, Sangwon beats him to it “He’s in my room, hyung!”
Anxin gaze stays fixed on Sangwon, still trying to process whatever just happened before the interruption.
Just as Sangwon finishes his sentence, Anxin decides he need to do something so he stands up and shifts closer, letting the words hang between them, heavy and quiet. His hand encircles around Sangwon’s tiny waist pulling him closer.
Then, without thinking, he tilts his head, meets Sangwon’s eyes for a second, and leans forward—their lips meet.
Sangwon freezes for a heartbeat, a soft, surprised sound escaping him. He hadn’t expected the boldness, and definitely hadn’t been ready, while Anxin just press closer, soft and deliberate, like he’s trying to convey a message that he can’t form into words right now, hoping Sangwon would feel every bit of it.
It was quick and brief, but still left them both breathless.
Anxin pulls back a little, just enough to whisper “Thank you” and then brush their noses together, “I love you too.”
They barely pulled apart when—
The door opens. Junseo pokes his head in and stops short when he sees them. He pauses for a beat, eyes flickering from Anxin,who’s smiling brightly, calm as hell, to Sangwon, who seems visibly flustered, clearly trying to regain his composure from something Junseo can't put his finger on, but surely can take his guess.
He narrows his eyes, curious.
Then his expression softens into something fond when he looks back at Anxin, pointedly ignoring the tension.
“Happy birthday, buddy,” he said, pulling Anxin into a hug and pressing a kiss to the top of his head. A gift is already being pushed into the younger’s hand.
“Thank you, hyung!” Anxin replies, grinning.
Then Xinlong appears next, all bright and energetic, no sign of the early quietness.
“Anxin-ah, when did you leave the room?”
“While you were busy sulking about who-know-what.”Anxin says teasingly. “You didn’t even notice I left the room.”
Xinlong scoffed. “I wasn’t sulking. I was busy writing to you something.” He says walking closer to the birthday boy handing him a present too, “Check your messages later.”
Anxin chuckles, “I will, Long-ge. Xie xie!”
And one by one, the members from the lower dorm also appear. Suddenly the quiet apartment is now filled with excitement, laughter and warmth.
Hao pulls him into a headlock, laughing and whispering something in Chinese.
Sanghyeon hugs him tight and spins him around, nearly knocking them both over.
Geonwoo ruffles his hair like he has done hundreds of times before.
Leo leans his forehead against Anxin’s. “Yo Xin, happy birthday, bro!”
Each one of them also has present ready for him.
Noise and fun erupts throughout the living room.
Anxin doesn’t say it out loud—but he knows. This birthday feels different. Really special.
And in all the chaos, he looks across the room and finds Sangwon already watching him—smiles blooming their faces when their eyes meet.
Anxin feels complete. He knows this is going to be the best birthday yet.
It’s late. Really late, by the time the noise finally fades down.
Laughter dies out, lower dorm members says their goodnight before going back, while upper dorm members settles into that quiet hush again, doors closing one by one.
They have schedules early in the mroning.
Anxin promises he’ll sleep. Promise he’ll open the presents later. But his mind doesn’t listen.
So he decides to slip out quietly to the living room, making sure not to disturb his sleeping roommate.
He settles down on the floor near the couch, leg crossed, surrounded by soft paper and ribbons, and starts opening them one by one.
Each gift is different—thoughtful in a way that is unmistakenly them. Some are practical, some are ridiculous, some make him laugh under his breath, but all of them make his chest feel full.
Love, packed into boxes and bags, handed to him with care.
By the time he reaches the last gift, the air changes.
Sangwon’s gift was the first one he received that night, handed to him with that soft smile, that meaningful ‘I love you’, and that carefulness Sangwon always carries.
But somehow it ends up being the last one left unopened.
Anxin knows he’s been stalling.
Not because he isn’t eager—god, he is so desperate to see what’s in there—but because he is too nervous. He has this gut feeling that if he open it first he'll be here all night. So he keeps it for last, thinking he'll be less nervous when he reached it.
He did not. Because staring at the untouched box now, he feels as if his heart is about to jump out of chest, he doesn’t know if it’s from the nervousness or anticipation. Maybe both.
He exhales slowly, trying to calm down and be normal for once.
It’s just a gift, he tells himself. It won’t kill you.
Still, his finger hesitates.
Because if he remembers correctly, how this is from the same person whom he only used to watch over the screen, it could actually kill him. But he doesn't want to go there today. He wants to survive tonight first.
The wrapping is colorful, red and white, the ribbon tied neatly, too neatly. Sangwon-hyung definitely wrapped this himself. Anxin can picture it too clearly—Sangwon hunched on the floor, brow furrowed, redoing the knot until it’s just right.
Anxin unwrapped it carefully.
Inside, the gifts make sense immediately.
A perfume—the one he likes. The exact same brand they’d coincidentally matched back then during the show. A scent Sangwon has come to love so much, saying it smells comforting. That Anxin smells comforting.
A hoodie—a Balenciaga hoodie. The exact same one that Anxin remembers hovering over in his browser during the car ride back to the dorm, completely unaware that Sangwon, sitting right beside him, had noticed. Had been watching. Had already pulled out his phone to add it to his cart, and had it delivered two days later.
Anxin feels his chest swells.
How did he know? He wonders quietly, smiling softly, fingers caressing the fabric of the hoodie.
Then his breath catches when his eyes land on the last thing left untouched in the gift box. An envelope.
Anxin knows, instantly, what’s in it.
A letter.
He leans back against the chair, staring at it like he’s having a debate with it.
He had just read Xinlong's long paragraph, Hao's message and the rest of the member’s. And he barely kept it together. And now this envelope is sitting in that box staring at him, waiting for him to touch it and suffer.
Anxin is not usually sentimental like this. He doesn’t linger on written words, doesn’t like sitting in feelings that are too big, too raw. But lately, Sangwon seems to have a way of pulling emotions out of him before he’s ready.
And a letter from Sangwon feels like a door to a room full of feelings he isn’t sure he can walk through yet. Not because he’s afraid of what’s written—but because he’s afraid of how deeply it might reach.
Besides, they have a schedule in the morning. Crying tonight would mean swollen eyes and a heavy chest he won’t know how to explain.
Anxin weighs the envelope in his hands.
“Just a skim,” he mutters to himself. “Just a little.”
That’s the lie he settles on.
He slides the letter out slowly, like giving himself time to change his mind. He unfolds the paper—then freezes.
It’s long.
Of course it is. This is Sangwon-hyung, remember? He let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head.
The birthday boy closes his eyes. Take a deep breath.
I’ll read it properly tomorrow, I’ll just take a look for now, he decides, last chance at retreat.
Then he opens his eyes again and reads the first line.
…
‘My Angod, My baby, Happy Birthday!’
…
His breath catches hard.
“Oh, fuck—” he whispers, already losing it. “Okay, nope. I’m not doing—”
But it’s too late.
My Angod.
My.
Angod.
The word hits somewhere low and unguarded. It’s not just the nickname, it’s the memories of their first meeting flashing back, the claiming in it, the tenderness, and the way he can hear Sangwon’s voice wrapped around the words.
Anxin presses his lips together, blinking fast.
He swallows because he knows this isn’t a letter he can just skim nor is it something he can rush.
But Anxin can’t back out now. Just like everything about Sangwon, once he’s in he doesn’t know how to just stop.
So he exhales slowly, fingers tightening around the paper.
“...This is going to take a while,” he mutters to the empty room.
And finally—he starts to read the letter words by words—
—
My Angod, My Baby, Happy Birthday!!
There are many things I’m too shy to say to you face to face, because every time you smile at me or look at me with those gentle eyes, like I matter more than I believe I do, my careful words scatter.
So I’m borrowing paper and ink to write them instead, hoping it reaches you upon words itself.
Anxin smiles at this, finding the way Sangwon expresses things both amusing and endearing.
I still remember the first time I saw you. Clearly.
“Yeah?” Anxin murmurs quietly.
It was on Planet Day, when the K and C group were still separated.
Everything felt loud, exciting and overwhelming back then.
There were so many people. Faces blending together. Voices overlapping. Everyone trying to shine. To be seen.
I remember standing there among many others, nervous but excited.
And then you walked in. Looking like you belong right where you’re supposed to.
My eyes followed you before I knew I was doing it.
Anxin swallows, fingers tighten on the paper.
Maybe the title ‘C center’ you carried was why I noticed you.
Maybe it was the curiosity of how you got there, how good you must have been to be chosen for that, which made my eyes wander.
But if I’m being really honest, it was probably because you looked…unreal. Divine, in a way that stayed with me long after you were gone.
I remember going back to the dorm that day thinking ‘It would have been nice to get to know him.’
I didn’t know your name then.
I didn’t even know your voice.
I only knew that something in my chest shifted, as if it recognised you before I did.
When the K and C group merged and the curtain fell that day, my eyes landed on you first before I could stop myself.
I couldn’t help it. You were glowing—very beautiful and impossible to ignore.
I remember how nervous I was when you approached to stand next to me that day, and how shy I became when you told me you’d admired me since my last journey.
Anxin leans back slightly, trying, and failing, to suppress the smile threatening to etch itself across his face. He’s definitely teasing Sangwon about this later.
But that was also the time when everything started to feel different for all of us.
The sudden shift was brutal.
Training became harsher.
Competition felt heavier.
Everyday felt like walking on thinner ice.
Anxin nods along, like he's having a conversation with the lines themselves. Those hardships are still fresh in his mind too.
I was scared all the time then. But growing up, I had learned how to disappear politely, how to take up less space, how to endure without asking to be held.
And somehow, without ever asking permission, you stepped into my life.
Anxin has to pause here. His breath shakes. He closes his eyes for a few seconds and doesn’t move for a while.
You sat beside me on days I barely spoke.
You filled silence without making it suffocating.
You reached for me when you know I didn't have the courage to reach out.
You treated my fragility like something gentle, not something shameful.
Anxin-ah, I don’t think you know how much you saved me then.
Did it mean that much to you? Anxin thinks, feeling his eyes sting.
You never demanded that I be stronger.
You never asked me to explain my sadness.
You just stayed close, warm and real, like you trusted that I would find my way back to myself eventually, when I can't even trust myself.
Thank you.
Thank you for seeing me on days I felt small.
Thank you for never asking me to prove my worth to you.
Thank you for loving me when I was quiet, broken, difficult.
Anxin wipes away a tear he didn’t realise had fallen.“You are never difficult, baby,” he whispers, shaking his head lightly.
You choose me like I am enough, like I am worth it.
You love me so gently, so patiently, so soft and so…real.
And Anxinnie, never have I ever felt loved like this by anyone, nor have I ever felt so free when being held, without feeling like I’m drowning.
I admire you more than I know how to say.
I admire how you love loudly.
I admire how you laugh with your whole body.
I admire how you remain you, even when the world demands otherwise.
I admire that you are nineteen today and still somehow braver than I have ever been.
“You’re already so brave, hyung.” Anxin whispers to the letter. Fingers smoothing the crease of the paper.
You know, this day has always been my favorite day of the year, for as long as I can remember.
Not because of the tradition. Not even because of the gifts.
But because of the feeling, like the world pauses for a moment and believes in warmth. In miracles. In people being gentler than usual.
I know. Of course Anxin knows. He has been following and admiring Sangwon long enough to know what he likes or dislikes.
And then I learned that you were born on that day.
I sat with that knowledge for a long time. Holding it carefully.
Wondering how something could feel so fascinating and real.
How the day I loved, is something tying me to you long before we met, almost like anchoring me to wait patiently for you to arrive.
This made me feel even more attached to you.
Anxin sniffles, then he freezes reading the next line.
He reads it once.
Then again.
Then a third time, slower, like if he rushes, it might fall apart.
Xin-ah…it feels like you came to find me.
Anxin stops breathing.
The room doesn’t change, but something in him does—like the air has shifted and he hasn’t caught up yet.
He presses his thumb into the crease of the paper, grounding himself.
Whether fate was real or not, Anxin was never truly sure. Coincidences happen, people meet. That’s all.
That’s all it has ever been.
He looks back down.
The words don’t move.
They don’t soften.
They don’t take themselves back.
Instead it follows by—
Like I was always meant to be yours.
Anxin exhales, shaky.
“Shit—”
He laughs once, short and breathless, and drags a hand over his face.
He’s never been one to believe in fate fully, but suddenly, if this is what it feels like, then maybe he does. He believe it too.
Because what are the chances that you would be born on the one day I always believed in the most?
What are the chances of us having pieces of each other even before we met?
What are the chances that someone like you would come to this world, wrapped in winter and light, and find me when I didn't think I was someone worth being found?
Anxin doesn’t read on immediately.
His eyes linger on the line, unmoving.
Not because he doesn’t understand it.
But because he does. Too well.
He think of Sangwon—
of the way he hesitates before speaking.
of how he folds inward whenever he’s overthinking,
of how he loves carefully and quietly. Like he’s afraid of taking too much space.
Anxin’s throat tightens.
It hits him then. Not all at once, but heavy and slow.
Sangwon didn’t write this thinking he is enough.
He wrote it hoping that he could be.
Anxin finger curls around the edge of the paper.
“Idiot,” He whispers, voice trembling.
“Ofcourse you are worth it.”
I like to think the universe was being kind to me. That it looked at the future ahead and decided I would need you.
So it sent you—so bright, so alive—straight to me.
And maybe that’s why, no matter how lost I feel, when you’re near, I believe things will be okay.
Not because the world stops being cruel, but because I know I won’t have to face it alone.
You are extraordinary, Xin.
Not because you’re talented — though you are.
Not because you’re beautiful — though you are.
But because you are you.
Because you are kind when no one is watching.
Because you reach for others even when your hands are shaking.
Because the world feels softer simply because you exist in it.
I love you, Zhou Anxin.
Anxin's breath stutters, his vision blurs as tears spill onto the paper.
I love you from the way you touch me to the way you look at me with sparkles in your eyes.
I love you in a way that feels quiet but endless.
I love you in a way that makes me want to protect you.
I love you in a way that makes the future feel less frightening, simply because I know you’ll be there.
I love you in a way that feels like home.
“I love you too,” Anxin breathes. “God, I love you too—”
He repeats it like a mantra, like something he needs to remember all the way through.
So tonight, when the clock turns and the day becomes yours, I don’t just celebrate your birthday, I celebrate the miracle of you existing at all.
And I wish I could give you something bigger than words. I wish I could give you certainty, safety, promises that never know how to break.
But all I can give you now is this:
As long as I am here, you are not alone.
When you doubt yourself, I will remember for you.
When you get tired, I will stand beside you until you can stand again.
And if you let me, I will walk with you for as long as you have me.
Thank you for being here.
Thank you for choosing me.
Thank you for being you.
And if fate truly exist, which I do believe it does, please come find hyung in every lifetime we’re in.
Happy birthday, My Xin, My baby, My Love.
Saranghanda!
Always yours,
Sangwon-ge ;)
—
The letter ends.
Anxin stares at the last line, eyes unfocused.
His chest feels too tight, too full. Overflowing even. Like there isn’t enough room inside him for everything Sangwon just put there.
He folds the paper once.
Then again.
Too carefully.
He thinks, distantly, I can’t sit here.
The thought barely finishes forming before his body decides for him.
Anxin is on his feet, heart hammering, the letter still clenches in his hand as he moves down the hall toward the only room he wants to be in right now. Toward the only arms he wants to drown himself into at this instant.
He doesn’t knock.
The door swings open making owner of the room startles, book slipping in his grip.
“Wha—Anxin—?”
The younger crosses the room in three steps.
Then he drops.
He kneels between Sangwon’s knees and wraps both arms around his waist, pressing his face into the older’s stomach like he’s anchoring himself there.
Sangwon freezes. For half a second, he doesn’t move at all—stunned, confused, his breath caught, hishands hovering uselessly in the air.
“Anxinnie…?” His voice is soft, uncertainty lying beneath it.
Anxin doesn’t answer. Instead, he tightens his grip, forehead pressed in, shoulder trembling just slightly. The letter crinkles between his fingers.
Sangwon’s hands finally come down—one settling at the back of Anxin’s head, the other resting against his shoulder. Careful. Like he’s afraid he might scared Anxin if he moves wrong.
“Baby, what happend?” Sangwon murmurs, fingers threading gently through the younger’s hair, never stopping, hoping to calm him down even a little.
Anxin exhales. Long and shaky. Tears keep flowing, soaking into the fabric of Sangwon’s shirt. He doesn’t lift his head yet. He just stays there, holding on and letting older hold him back.
Sangwon doesn’t rush the younger to speak. He just adjusts his hold, fingers continue to comb slowly through Anxin’s hair, thumb brushing small circles like muscle memory. The silence stretches between them and for a long time, neither of them speak.
Then Anxin murmurs, voice barely above whisper.
“I’ll find you again,” he says.
Sangwon stills.
Anxin doesn’t lift his head. Doesn’t check for a reaction.
“and again. Wherever you are. How many other lives we'll be in.”
Sangwon’s breath catches. Realisation hit him softly. His hand stills in Anxin’s hair, fingers curling lightly like he’s anchoring himself.
Anxin finally looks up. Hands moving up to cradle Sangwon’s face, voice softer still,
“I’ll choose you over and over…and over, until you're tired of me."
“Anxin—” Sangwon whispers, voice trembling, eyes starting to sting.
“Even then,” Anxin interrupts him quietly, “I’ll still choose you anyway.”
The words hang there. Heavy and real.
“Because you are worth it. You are special to me. You are my everything.” Anxin continues, then softer still, “and because you are mine, and I am yours.”
Sangwon closes his eyes. Tears he didn’t realise were forming slip free, trailing slowly down his cheeks. Anxin wipes them away, and Sangwon leans toward the touch, shaking his head like believing he doesn’t deserve to hear or feel such tender words and touch.
“I don’t think—” he chokes, the forces the word out, “—I don't think I deserve all of this…but if you keep saying thing like that—”
He opened his eyes, leaning his forehead against Axin’s,
“—you’ll make me believe I can be enough for you…but what if I can’t—”
“No, listen to me, hyung,” Anxin says gently. “You are already enough. You have always been enough. I love you for who you are. I love you for loving me, I love you for trusting me, for letting me in. I love you—”
His voice breaks, just a little.
“And I don't know how to stop. I don't want to stop.”
Sangwon cannot find a word to reply. His heart feels so full.
“I’ll keep loving you until the only thing you believe in is yourself…me…and us,” Anxin whispers.
“I’ll learn patience for you. I don’t know how long forever is or how long I'm allowed to have you or how many lives we will be granted,”
“All I know is that I will keep choosing you, over and over.”
“You are my favorite person…and I want to be your favorite person too.”
There is no uncertainty in Anxin’s voice at all when saying all these. He wants Sangwon to hear each phrase. He need him to understand every words.
Sangwon is so overwhelmed. He can't find the words to reply. They may have only known each other for a short time, but suddenly the thought of living without Anxin feels so unbearable.
“Please take care of me, Anxin-ah,” Sangwon murmurs quietly.
That is all he can afford to say but somehow holds so much meanings at once. And Anxin gets it. He always does.
He pulls back only to press a kiss to Sangwon’s forehead, kissing away the tears on his cheeks before drawing the latter fully into his arm.
“I will,” Anxin replies without hesitation. “Let me love you, hyung. All of you.”
Sangwon nods, voice soft and steady despite everything swelling in his chest. “I love you, baobei.”
“I love you too, ge” Anxin whispers.
They stay like that the whole night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, eventually falling asleep feeling complete. Chests full of love they know will hold, no matter what the future looks like.
Because love like theirs—born from understanding, endless affection, admiration, and a shared willingness to choose each other— doesn’t fade.
It stays.
Beautiful and timeless.