Chanyeol counts his blessings by the beauty marks that detail Kyungsoo’s skin.

In the morning, Chanyeol always wakes up first. Before he puts on his slippers, before he brushes his teeth, before he cooks breakfast, he takes the time to brush his fingers along a sleeping Kyungsoo’s nape and find every mole, counting them off. One, two, three, four, all in the same place they were in when he counted the night before, just before he fell asleep. Kyungsoo will then roll over, half awake, and plant a kiss on his lips for every one he’s found.

If Chanyeol’s lucky, Kyungsoo lets him count in the shower. As he scrubs the soapy suds against the broad expanse of Kyungsoo’s back, he presses his fingertips into the ones he finds on his shoulders, down near his waist, or along his spine. The hot water sighs steam onto the glass and Kyungsoo leans back onto him before he can count past the line of his hips, dipping them both under the pour of the shower head.

When they’re in the bedroom, with Kyungsoo’s thighs around his waist and his hands holding tight in the strands of his hair, Chanyeol finds new marks all the time. He kisses every private inch of Kyungsoo’s body, gripping the flesh with such intensity to keep his lover still as he strives to find every last one in every crevice, every stretch of skin. Here is where Kyungsoo allows the search to go on and on, willing to wait until Chanyeol’s completely satisfied with his discoveries, even if it takes eternity.

It’s funny to Kyungsoo how something so minute and unnoticeable to the common eye could fascinate Chanyeol so much. He insists that his moles are no more interesting than Chanyeol’s own, but the other is quick to reject the idea. Quick to assure Kyungsoo that there is something very special about every little detail of his body and heart.

Still, Kyungsoo can’t complain, not when Chanyeol’s sweet morning kiss is on his mouth, or when his warm hands slide underneath his sweatshirt to test if he can find them without looking. Lately, he’s found himself growing more comfortable with the searches if it allows him more time to spend with the man he loves most.

Years of camaraderie have helped him familiarize himself with the seemingly endless supply of love and affection that Chanyeol possesses, not just for him, but for the world and its oddities. He’s noticed that Chanyeol finds pleasure in the simplest of things—the smooth glide of a writing pen, cooking a perfect runny yolk, seeing Crystal Pepsi back in stock at the nearby convenience store. The ability he has to find the silver lining in every situation is admired, most especially by Kyungsoo.

What’s not to love about a man who strives to find the good in everything?

Sometimes they sit. Chanyeol, at the foot of the bed, Kyungsoo against the headboard. Each in their own world while simultaneously being a part of the other’s.

Whenever Kyungsoo reads, Chanyeol watches as quietly as he can. He’s picked up on several of his little tics and tendencies. Like his habit of his finger to turn the pages, or the way he uses his knuckle to push the frame of his glasses further up the bridge of his nose, or how his dark brows knit together in thought as he goes over a particular sentence in his passage.

Here is usually where Chanyeol climbs up the bed, tucking his head against Kyungsoo’s upper arm and shoulder so that they can read and assess together. Close like this, his boyfriend always smells clean and sweet and homely. Chanyeol’s fond of the way that same scent latches onto whatever piece of clothing he borrows from him. Often, Kyungsoo will spot Chanyeol pressing his face against the fabric of the sweater he’s just returned, Chanyeol being ever so subtle with the way he loudly sighs in delight as he does so.

Most of Kyungsoo’s library is filled with historical novels. Though Chanyeol’s once expressed distaste for the genre, he’s become slowly convinced by Kyungsoo that learning of the ways of life in time past all the more broadens your worldview in the modern world.

Chanyeol thinks about decades ago, when war ravaged countries and dragged lovers apart. He wonders if he and Kyungsoo had been separated, would they have made a promise to each other, kept correspondence? He can clearly imagine Kyungsoo’s smooth handwriting on the stationery detailing the day by day of his life in the same smart, concise tone he speaks in. Even clearer is Chanyeol’s own fast-paced scrawl on paper, writing about the bore of every day without him, shamelessly listing all the things they’ll do once they come back together, secrets and declarations of love only meant for him that could go on for pages upon pages.

The thought of living life apart from each other for months, years on end, makes Chanyeol all the more grateful that he fell in love with Kyungsoo now, when he’s so close that he can follow the rhythm of his heartbeat with his fingertips.

“I’d have written to you every day,” Chanyeol mouths against the heat of Kyungsoo’s skin after he tells him about these thoughts, after Kyungsoo’s so overwhelmed by his affection that he shuts his book without marking his page to kiss him. “I’d wait for you forever.”

“And I for you,” Kyungsoo whispers back, head lolling to one side to expose his neck even more to Chanyeol’s kiss, fingers tangling in dark hair. “I’d count down the seconds.”

Then it’s warmer and Kyungsoo’s focus is zeroed in on the path of Chanyeol’s mouth on his body, the circles his fingers draw underneath his sweatshirt, the press of his knee between his legs. He mutters his name like a prayer to the gracious gods who sent him into his life, breathing every syllable with feverish want, need. Chanyeol counts each time, from when Kyungsoo lowers his voice to the shyest whisper up to its swell in volume as he cries out one last time, body shaking from the effort of release.

One of Chanyeol’s favorite parts about it is after, when Kyungsoo pushes his glasses up with his knuckle, looks at him through the lenses, and smiles warmly.

“I love you.” he’ll say, and Chanyeol falls all over again.

Kyungsoo’s time is evenly divided between work and home with Chanyeol. Chanyeol’s schedule changes like the wind, in one direction or the other. They find their time for each other and send each other luck during their time apart. A healthy distance makes the heart grow fonder. But on some occasions, the timetables shift. Kyungsoo all of a sudden has an extended lunch hour to spare, or Chanyeol decides to take an earlier shift to get home to Kyungsoo faster, and they make do with what they’re given.

They don’t go out much together if they can help it. Neither is necessarily in a position to spend money on extravagant date nights every week. Usually, they take turns cooking a meal at home to eat together, all in privacy. But every now and then, one of them gets in the mood to spoil the other, and they risk having a fancy evening just for a change in scenery.

On these nights, Chanyeol admits that Kyungsoo always dresses nice. Kyungsoo assures him in return that he cleans up well, too, but he doesn’t mind Chanyeol's classic ensemble of t-shirts and baggy sweatpants all that much.

Even in a restaurant surrounded by dozens of people, they find the world in each other. Conversations held in low volume with their lips barely moving, words exchanged like secrets between the two of them. Kyungsoo is content with holding hands under the table where he can hold tight with Chanyeol’s bouncing knee under his wrist, but there are nights when he’s bold enough to bring their hands atop the tablecloth, fascinated by the tangle of their fingers and how small his own hand looks in the hold of his lover’s.

Together, they indulge. Chanyeol gossips about working woes over the pasta and leaves time for Kyungsoo to get giddy about a possible promotion as they eat their dessert. Their public displays of affection aren’t extreme enough for feeding each other across the table, but neither is a stranger to picking bites of food off the other’s plate here and there.

If the restaurants had no closing time, they could talk for hours. Their time together in the dim lights of the corner booth, far from the noise of the ordinary crowd, speaking with their eyes, is one of the few times they lose count of the minutes—of everything.

There are days when Chanyeol isn’t as bright a beam of light as he usually is. Some days the sun just isn’t where it should be. The entire world falls witness to the chaos that ensues afterward.

Chanyeol is volatile when he’s sad or angry. Knowing this, he insists that Kyungsoo keep a distance from him until he’s set straight, afraid of how he’ll view him after he’s revealed himself at his lowest point.

But Kyungsoo doesn’t. He can’t—Chanyeol’s wet eyes and shaking hands send him into a protective mode that can’t be switched off that easily.

Instead, he listens. He combs his fingers through Chanyeol’s hair and listens, dragging his fingertips from the front of his hairline all the way back towards his nape. He listens as he massages the muscles in Chanyeol’s hand, round eyes set on his boyfriend’s face and ears attentive to his every word. He softly suggests taking a deep breath, counting to ten, then breathing out slowly. All this calms Chanyeol down, releases his tears, slows his heart rate back to normal.

Kyungsoo’s resolve breaks more often than Chanyeol’s, but he’s always keen on hiding it from him—something he does surprisingly well. But nothing can stop the force of Chanyeol’s love when he notices the smallest of changes in Kyungsoo’s demeanor, from the hanging of his head as he walks to the way he wipes his glasses on the hem of his shirt instead of with his special cleaning cloth.

Chanyeol’s solution is always kisses, kisses, kisses. Kisses on the top of Kyungsoo’s head as they ride the train together back home after his boyfriend has had a particularly nasty day. Kisses against the sensitive spot below Kyungsoo’s ear when he wakes up to bad news in the morning. Kisses for every teardrop that falls on Kyungsoo’s flushed cheeks when the frustration is too much to bear. Kisses square on Kyungsoo’s heart shaped lips, on his nose, on his eyelids, on his temples, on his sharp jaw, on the moles across his cheek and his ears, kisses all over Kyungsoo’s well-sculpted face before his giggles can’t be contained and a handsome smile curves the shape of his mouth. All better.

When they’re both hurting, they’re naturally drawn to each other. Inseparable. They take days off and lounge around together, Kyungsoo clinging onto Chanyeol by the hips, Chanyeol following Kyungsoo into the bathroom just to be with him. They spend extra hours in bed holding each other with Kyungsoo nestled in Chanyeol’s arms and focusing on the pattern of his breathing until it’s in sync with his own. Kyungsoo will sit in Chanyeol’s lap and read out loud. Chanyeol will improvise a song on the piano and encourage Kyungsoo to sing the melody. Nothing could pull them apart in times like these.

They heal eventually. Kyungsoo’s learned from Chanyeol to only remember the good things brought to them by the bad days. They don’t count the hardships.

“Tell me a secret.”

It’s a New Year’s tradition they started a few years ago, even from before they got together. Every December 31st, in the last minutes of the year, they exchange one secret to each other, whether new or old. They started it as a means of getting closer, a way to continue uncovering new things about each other as the years pass by. Always keeping the other on their toes, never free from surprises, to keep things interesting.

They only do it on the last day of the year—as per Kyungsoo’s rule. Ironically, it’s Kyungsoo who initiates the conversation weeks before they’re due for their yearly secret exchange.

“It’s early,” Chanyeol reminds him. He’s laid back against the couch while Kyungsoo straddles him. Nothing scandalous—just needing each other’s touch.

“I know. But I really want to tell you something now.” Kyungsoo says. His low voice is tinged with poorly concealed excitement, his round eyes glittering behind the lenses of his glasses.

Chanyeol reaches up to hold Kyungsoo’s face in his hands, brushing his thumbs across his full cheeks. He presses the pad of his finger against the pink curve of his lips, making the other smile.

“You look nice today.” he whispers fondly, looking into his eyes with affection in his irises.

Kyungsoo laughs gently at him, lifting his arms to put his hands over his. “Is that it?”

Chanyeol chuckles and shakes his head. “No. I just wanted to tell you.”

“But you tell me that every day, Yeol.” Kyungsoo says, pushing on Chanyeol’s hands to make his lips jut out in a slight pout. God, Chanyeol can’t resist the need to kiss him, he’s so cute.

Having not prepared for this conversation today, Chanyeol allows himself a moment to sit back and ponder. He notes how comfortable Kyungsoo looks in the gray knit sweater he’s in. It’s from Chanyeol’s closet, obviously. He considers giving it to him as an extra Christmas present since he likes wearing it so much.

In fact, Chanyeol counts all the things he’s given, and is willing to give, to Kyungsoo if it makes him happy. He’s already welcomed him into his home, into his heart. He’s let Kyungsoo fit himself into the details of his life, from his photo frames on his mantle to the toothbrush now permanently in place in his bathroom to the blanket he keeps stored in the trunk of his car for whenever Kyungsoo gets cold.

Chanyeol can’t complain about how his life has become overwhelmed by Kyungsoo’s presence. He’d been willing to adapt to every change it brought him, knowing each was for the better. Even if at the end of the day, Kyungsoo’s stolen every article of clothing in his possession, Chanyeol would still be the fool shivering in the cold who let him do it.

So now, holding his lover’s face, lined by the smiles of youth, a new realization dawns on Chanyeol. A new secret.

“What are you smiling about?” Kyungsoo asks him, raising a brow.

Chanyeol his cheek with his thumb, heart cooing when Kyungsoo wordlessly nuzzles his face into his palm, doe eyes watching him carefully for an answer.

“I think,” Chanyeol begins, throat suddenly dry, tongue swiping across his chapped lips—

“I think I want to marry you.”

Calm brown eyes widen into surprised ones and Chanyeol almost laughs at Kyungsoo’s reaction had he not been stuck wiping the tears that began to flow from his eyes.

“No. I take it back. I know I want to marry you.” Chanyeol says firmly, even as Kyungsoo continues to watch him in disbelief. He wraps his arms around his waist and pulls him close. “I know it. I want it.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes begin to water as well, teeth biting back the wide smile beginning to spread across his face. Chanyeol’s suddenly nervous by his lack of verbal response and pulls back just the slightest, laughing through his anxious thoughts.

“W-well, what’s yours, then? What’s your secret?” he asks.

Kyungsoo draws in a shaky breath. He pats Chanyeol’s cheek fondly, searching his eyes, finding love staring back at him. He then kisses him gently, slowly, like they need all the time in the world for it, before reaching into his pocket and brandishing a small black velvet box in his palm.

Chanyeol opens his eyes from the kiss, still dazed when he looks down at the box and blinks in disbelief. He meets Kyungsoo’s eyes.

“I know I want to marry you, too.” the smaller man says, unable to contain his own tears as he says the words. He opens the box with a careful pull, revealing a gorgeous engagement ring glittering inside.

The force with which Chanyeol pins Kyungsoo to the couch after that is best described as inhuman—so strong that it can only be accredited to the powerful sway of pure, unadulterated love.

Chanyeol ravishes Kyungsoo right then and there, moving across his cheek with his mouth, knocking his glasses off his face, kissing down his neck, peeling off the gray knit sweater and trailing his lips down his abdomen, whispering his name along his hip bones with fervor, pulling at his trousers.

Soon, Kyungsoo is flushed pink from the chest up, barely having time to breathe in the midst of Chanyeol’s fast-paced movements, biting his teeth into his lover’s bare shoulder as he gives himself to him, gives his all to him. He kisses along Chanyeol’s jaw, whispering the sweetest of nothings into his ear, unable to keep the words I love you, I love you from spilling past his lips. He slowly succumbs to Chanyeol’s touch and cries out each time his fingers brush across his most sensitive spots, not even bothering to direct Chanyeol away from where his weakest points are since he already knows him so well. God, he knows him like the back of his own hand.

Chanyeol can’t keep his hands off of him. Even with Kyungsoo’s body completely memorized, he touches him like it’s the first time. He’s sweet to him, kisses him, holds him, molds his body into his like they’re made to be complete. With his eyes closed, he can find each mark and press into them with his fingertips. He loves the way Kyungsoo curls into his touch. He craves the lewd sounds that fall from his pretty mouth. He commits the way his voice spells out his name like it’s divine to memory.

At some point in the night, they both lose count of how many times they reach their finishes with each other—but continue on without bothering with keeping score.

“Ready to go?” Chanyeol asks Kyungsoo.

The other man laughs as he walks out their front door, suitcase in tow. “You should know by this point that your husband gets up much earlier than you do to get ready now.”

Chanyeol grins from ear to ear. “I like that.”

“Early birds?” Kyungsoo asks, kissing Chanyeol’s cheek as he passes by.

Chanyeol hums, following him towards the car. “‘Husband.’”

Kyungsoo smiles at him warmly. Chanyeol thinks he looks absolutely adorable bundled up in all his winter wear and knows he’ll miss the sight of it for this next week. Their honeymoon is set for something warmer than the familiar cold they’ve already suffered enough of at home, and Chanyeol can’t wait to see Kyungsoo tan in the heat of the tropical sun—and, more specifically, taste to see if his sunkissed husband's browned skin will taste sweet like it's been dipped in golden honey.

(Though he won’t admit it, Kyungsoo’s eager for the exact same.)

After they’ve packed all their things into the car, Chanyeol looks back at their house then at Kyungsoo, smiling smugly. “Counted your blessings?”

Kyungsoo mirrors his grin, leaning against the car. He reaches out with open arms and lets Chanyeol walk into his embrace, beckoning the taller man to lean down so he can kiss him on his forehead, just between his eyebrows.

“One.” he counts aloud.

Chanyeol sighs dreamily, lifting his head to plant a soft kiss on Kyungsoo’s temple.

“One.”