sehun is nervous.  he sits on an old tree stump in the forest and waits, tapping his foot lightly against the dirt in anticipation.

jongin is 12 today, in the midst of a frosty winter chill.  he isn’t difficult to spot, a whirl of heat, practically melting puddles in the frozen dew as he steps into the nook sehun has hidden himself in.

sehun gets to his feet and grins, holding out his gift with both hands.  “happy birthday, jongin.”  he feels as though he is melting to puddles himself when jongin flashes that smile of his.  sehun has never felt uncomfortable in the cold, but he suddenly feels frozen stiff, and all he wants is to curl up against the warmth of jongin’s chest and breathe in jongin, jongin, jongin.

“thanks!”  jongin takes the gift, and sehun is too aware of the way his breath catches at the brush of their fingers.  “i had no idea you could wrap so well.”

the teasing glint in jongin’s eye has sehun’s throat drying all too quickly, and he doesn’t quite understand why, but he suddenly blurts, “it’s not from me.”

“oh?  then who from?”

panic has never stricken sehun so intensely.  “sehee,” he whispers, regret already lacing knots in his abdomen.

“oh.”  jongin smiles again, hoping it’s a smile and not a disappointed grimace.  “how come she’s not here?”  how come it’s not from you, he manages to keep to himself.

“she had chores to do,” sehun mumbles.  idiot, he screams at himself.  he doesn’t miss the huge grin on jongin’s face as he unwraps the journal.

jongin is 21 today.  he sits at his desk, having gently separated himself from sehun’s sleeping figure to gain his composure.

dear sehun, he scrawls on the first page of a fresh journal.

“aww.”  jongin yelps and slams the cover down.  “are you writing a thank you letter to me already?” sehun asks from behind him.  “i haven’t even given you your present yet.”

“i—i—when did you get up?”  sehun still looks fragile, but jongin sees the twinkle in his eye and knows his recovery is well under way.

“a minute ago.  i wanted to give you this before you went off for training.”  with a bit of a struggle, sehun slips the birth medallion off his neck.

jongin realizes sehun’s intentions and stands clumsily, attempting to back away, but he hits his desk.  “no, i can’t.  sehun, you only get one of those.  that’s for you and only you.  it keeps your power in check; i can’t—i can’t take that from you.”

sehun frowns.  “but i want you to have it.”

“i can’t.”  jongin’s voice comes out in whispers.  “is this some kind of suicide attempt because i won’t let you do it.”

“i want you to have it.”  jongin has to strain to hear as sehun mutters, “i’m sure of it.”  but sehun couldn’t possibly be implying what jongin thinks he’s implying.  could he?

“i can’t.”

sehun hates the stubbornness in his voice, but he is in no shape to negotiate.  “an ice medallion will give you an advantage.  whatever happens to you, you are not dying on me, jongin.  i won’t let you.”

it is with hesitation that jongin agrees.  “all right,” he takes off his own medallion, “but you have to wear mine.”

“what do i need it for if i’ll just be lying around all day?”

“i want you to have it.”  sehun rolls his eyes weakly and nods.

“hey, sehee, can i see your medallion for a sec?” jongin asks.  sehun stiffens.

“sure.”  jongin inserts the pendant into his journal, brows furrowing when it doesn’t fit.

“what am i supposed to open this with then?”

sehee shrugs.  “looks like someone else’s pattern.”

as the metal makes contact with jongin’s chest, he gasps at the hiss of the ice, the burn of his skin.  he lifts the pendant and presses trembling fingers to the grayish black mark at the top of his bone.  slowly, he lifts his head and sees his own medallion’s pattern engraved in sehun’s skin.

sehun cracks something of a pained smile.  “happy birthday, jongin.”

--

Oh god, it's been long.  So so sorry, but thank you all for reading and commenting!