Wonshik walks in the door and comes to a halt immediately. Outside was warm and sunny and welcoming, and he needs to take but two steps inside the hallway before he realizes how dark and gloomy the room feels. He looks up, spots Hakyeon on the couch on the other side of the room, and then he understands why.

“Hey,” he says, easing his bag off his shoulders before leaning down to take off his shoes. There’s no reply, which probably means Hakyeon is angry with him again. And as much as that shouldn’t be a good thing, something flutters in the pit of Wonshik’s stomach.

Hakyeon’s snow is long gone, and so is the snow Wonshik watched fall to the ground, the snow he wanted to run through and feel as it came down. Months have passed. Nothing has changed. Wonshik has made sure to stay the exact same person he has always been, and God only knows it has been hard at times. The hardest part was the time that passed while Hakyeon’s wound had yet to heal (which took surprisingly long) and he refused to look Wonshik in the eye or let him come closer than two meters away.

“How did it go?” Hakyeon asks then, just as Wonshik puts his boots away on the shoe rack, and he assumes the older man is referring to his tiring schedule for the day. He shrugs.

“Fine. Nothing special.” He leaves his bag by the door, walks over to the couch and sinks down beside Hakyeon, though at a safe distance. He leans his elbows on his knees, trying to figure out how to approach Hakyeon’s obvious displeasure with him, but then he turns his head and there are dark clouds rolling over the palm of Hakyeon’s hand.

He stares at them, wide eyed, surprised for a reason he doesn’t really know. “What?” Hakyeon says, tone challenging.

“Nothing,” Wonshik says, shaking his head. “What are those?”

Hakyeon glares at him. “They are clouds.”

“So I see. But why are they clouds?” Hakyeon looks away again, fixing his gaze at the clouds on his palm, and the corners of his mouth are drooping, something that makes Wonshik feel like he’s about to start crying. But he doesn’t speak, and that above all throws Wonshik off. “You’re quiet today,” he says. Hakyeon doesn’t look at him, but gives a short shake of his head and nods towards his hand. “What?” Wonshik asks.

“I think this speaks volumes, doesn’t it?” Hakyeon says, holding up his hand.

“So we’re doing the guessing thing?” Wonshik asks, and when Hakyeon doesn’t reply, he takes the hint. “We’re doing the guessing thing. Let’s see… You’re… angry?”

Hakyeon attempts to kill him with his eyes again. “Don’t be stupid. That would be a thunder storm. These clouds don’t have any bolts of lightning in them.” He shakes his hand as if the lack of sound proves his point, and the clouds tumble around messily.

“Right,” Wonshik says, “of course. You’re sad?”

Sighing, Hakyeon shrugs. “No, not really. Not first and foremost, at least.”

“Then…” Wonshik says, trying to think of negative feelings. He stares into the dark clouds, looks for clues, but ends up feeling even more confused than before. “Heartbroken?”

“What is your problem?” Hakyeon says then, rearranging his position, but still not looking at Wonshik. “What’s the difference between heartbroken and sad?”

In Wonshik’s mind they are worlds apart, but he plays along. “Then what are you?”

Hakyeon’s nostrils flare, but as expected, he isn’t silent for long. “I am disappointed.”

Wonshik raises an eyebrow at him. “In who?”

“In you.”

He straightens his back. His heart beats faster, because there’s a possibility he might know what’s coming. “What did I do?” Hakyeon’s lips are pursed, shut tightly, and the sheer pain inside him is so tangible that Wonshik can almost physically feel it. He doesn’t want to imagine what it’s like touching those clouds of his. In the end, Wonshik’s heart starts beating painfully hard, and he can’t stand it, so he reaches out, puts a hand on Hakyeon’s wrist and holds it tightly. “Hey, look at me. Why are you disappointed in me?”

Hakyeon looks at him, but only for a second. His eyes look glassy and strained and for a second Wonshik doesn’t want him to reply. “You didn’t listen to my warning,” he says, regardless of the other man’s thoughts. “Now everything’s ruined.”

Wonshik lets go of him, even though knows what message it sends. Despite having waited for this day for months, for years even, he doesn’t think he’s ready for this conversation. His voice is quivering when he speaks again: “Why do you always make these depressing things?” He gestures towards Hakyeon’s clouds, painfully aware of the awkwardness in his tone. “Why can’t you make something nice instead, like sunshine?”

Hakyeon stares at Wonshik’s hand, then back at his clouds. “I thought you liked the snow.”

“I did,” Wonshik agrees. “Until it hurt you.”

Hakyeon snaps his head towards him, and Wonshik is trapped between the instinct to laugh out loud and the sound of grumbling in Hakyeon’s clouds; the sound scares him a little bit, to be honest, because he’s sure Hakyeon’s thunder is not to be toyed with. “Well, you know me,” the older of the two hisses, and his tone is tense and high and makes him sound terribly old. “This is just what I do. You know this by now.”

Wonshik nods. “True, I do.”

“So stop asking pointless questions!” Hakyeon snarls. “Why are you even here?”

And Wonshik knows he can put all of this to an end; the countless times he’s glanced at Hakyeon and wondered what if, and the endless days he’s looked in the mirror and asked why. Most of all, he knows he can end the suffering the other man is going through, and must have gone through for the past months – God, how he must have tortured himself with this thought, that he might be falling in love with one of his best friends who doesn’t love him back, and he can’t do anything about it. It can all come to an end right here, right now, and Wonshik wants it to, but for some reason or other he is scared. He’s scared of not pretending he doesn’t know, of facing it all out in the open, so he plays dumb for a few moments longer. “I live here.”

Hakyeon’s eyes practically burn into him. “What… are you doing… here… beside me on this very couch, Wonshik? I swear, sometimes you’re the thickest man on the planet—“

Tears are forming in Hakyeon’s eyes, and the clouds in his hand seem to be levitating higher now, as though they’re slowly taking off from (or maybe completely in) Hakyeon’s control, so Wonshik reaches out and takes the other’s unoccupied hand in his. “Wait,” he says, “before you say things you’ll regret.”

“You’d better have something damn wise to say right now, Wonshik,” Hakyeon says, his eyes b with tears. “How can you do this to me? I told you so clearly that I was going to fall in love with you, but you didn’t care, and how could you not care? Haven’t you ever been in love? Don’t you realize how painful it is?”

Wonshik squeezes his hand when Hakyeon tries to pull it away. “I’m well aware. I know how it hurts.”

“Then that makes you even more of a bastard,” Hakyeon continues. “You know how it hurts, and you’re still willing to put me through it.”

“Listen,” Wonshik says, and holds even tighter when Hakyeon’s attempts to escape becomes more urgent. “Are you in love with me?”

Hakyeon stares at him for a few seconds. Then, with unexpected force, he pulls his hand out of Wonshik’s grip and smacks him over the top of his head. Wonshik pulls back and cowers with his hands over his face; the slap wasn’t a very harsh one, but the shock stings. “Of course I am in love with you! What do you think?!” Hakyeon yells at him. “And now it’s going to hurt every single time I look at you for the next few years of my life, and I gave you the chance to help me, but you just let it pass!”

Wonshik looks out from under his hands and sees the clouds leave Hakyeon’s hand and slowly, slowly make their way towards the ceiling. He winces, because he’s not sure but it looks like they’re getting bigger, too, and maybe darker. Or maybe he’s just scared. “Hakyeon, please,” he says, inching away from the growing clouds. “I didn’t do anything, because I’m in love with you, too.”

Everything stops. Wonshik feels like he’s about to fall off the couch, as if he is on a rollercoaster that suddenly and without warning came to a stop. Like a storm raided the room and then ceased to exist in a second.

The whole room feels different, and Wonshik notices that the clouds have stopped mid-air. They aren’t growing anymore, and neither do they look so dark. Beneath them, Hakyeon sits, slightly open mouthed, staring at him with eyes that soon turn suspicious. “You’re just saying that,” he breathes. “You’re just saying it so that I won’t be so sad, or angry with you.”

Wonshik gives an unhappy laugh. “You really have high thoughts of me,” he says, tilted smile hurting his cheeks. “Or is it yourself?” he adds, and Hakyeon’s eyes change; they stare over Wonshik’s shoulder, aimlessly, as if he isn’t really there, but somewhere far away, and then, after an insecure second, he seems to fall back into himself.

“You… you have feelings for me?”

Wonshik nods in time with his racing heart. “Yes.”

Hakyeon looks lost. “Since when?”

“Years.”

“But…” the older says, and the clouds starts falling, so slowly that at first Wonshik can’t register it. “You never said anything.”

“No,” Wonshik shrugs.

“Not even when I told you I was going to fall in love with you.”

“That’s right,” Wonshik agrees. Though Hakyeon is barely a meter away, he feels so distant that Wonshik has a hard time taking it all in.

Hakyeon observes him, and at least that defeated expression with complimentary tears is gone now. Wonshik breathes a little easier, but his heart is about to knock him out. “I made you suffer, didn’t I?” Hakyeon asks, a dreadful realization shining out of his eyes. “You must have suffered so much because of me.”

“Don’t,” Wonshik says, gathering up melting pieces of courage to reach out and take Hakyeon’s hand again, for the first time, for real.

“But you did.”

“I never loved you for my own sake,” Wonshik says, and somehow it’s getting harder to look Hakyeon in the eye. The clouds have shrunk to their original size and come back down to their place just above Hakyeon’s hand. The man opens his hand and lets them land as if he doesn’t need to look to know that they are there.

“You’re stupid,” Hakyeon says, and his nails scrape at the skin of Wonshik’s palm. “I want to kiss you.”

Wonshik looks at him and he’s sure this is the end for him, because his heart should not be physically capable of beating at this speed, and Hakyeon’s words sound so honest, as they always do (except for when he’s lying, then they just sound like someone else’s voice-over) , so honest that it physically pains him. Even so, he inches closer to Hakyeon on the couch, the other man eyeing him expectantly and rather nervously. He can’t help but his lips.

He positions himself so that his knee touches Hakyeon’s, and even that is enough to make him try to swallow and clear his throat at the same time. He tries to look the other man in the eye, falters, and his gaze falls upon the clouds, still sitting in Hakyeon’s outstretched hand. Without thinking twice, he purses his lips and blows at them, and Hakyeon jerks his hand away.

“Hey, now!” he protests, “I made these! These are my clouds.” Said clouds fly towards the end of the couch and are just about to fall over the backrest when Hakyeon catches them.

“Put them away,” Wonshik says, tongue numb. “I don’t want them to accidentally get in our faces, or something. I’ve heard it can bring you out of the mood.” He’s not even truly aware of his own words anymore, because his eyes find Hakyeon’s lips and everything that felt distant before feels frighteningly real, suddenly.

Those lips he can’t look away from thin into a thoughtful expression as Hakyeon looks at the clouds in his hand. Then he raises his hand to his lips, aims it towards the ceiling, and blows until the clouds are sent off sailing through the air. They bounce as they hit the ceiling, in a funny way that makes them both laugh for a second. “Do you even need them anymore?” Wonshik asks.

Hakyeon turns back to him, but he doesn’t reply. And, Wonshik has realized, when Hakyeon doesn’t speak, it’s because of one of two reasons. 1: He’s upset, angry or disappointed in you, in which case it’s best to keep talking to him, because he won’t be able to stay silent for long. 2: It’s simply time to shut up. And, given his satisfied, almost smug expression, this time it probably isn’t the first one. So, he cups Hakyeon’s sharp jaw in his hand, leans in and kisses him full on the lips.

He tries to not put all the years of waiting he’s done into the kiss, because he is still afraid of overwhelming Hakyeon, but he closes his eyes and his mind still reels when he feels Hakyeon’s heart beat against his; images of Hakyeon saying goodnight, images of Hakyeon waking him up without saying good morning, Hakyeon walking by his side, Hakyeon stealing his food, pushing him into the spotlight, saying too much, laughing louder than anyone else, bowing in apology (but never to Wonshik), storms, truce, shocks, Hakyeon, Hakyeon, Hakyeon. He sees it all and he feels it, feels it too much because Hakyeon is kissing back with those lips that Wonshik has kissed thousands of times in all of those odd moments of the day when he forgets that he is awake, that he is among people, that Hakyeon isn’t his—

Except, now, maybe he is.

He breaks the kiss, because he thinks he’s about to explode. He leans his forehead against Hakyeon’s, and vaguely registers that he is smiling. And when he looks up, the clouds are nowhere to be seen.

“Don’t worry,” Hakyeon says, biting a little at his chapped lips. “It’s not going to rain.”