A/N: 1-13-22 Sheridan I added something you told me today in this chapter, thank you ❤️ ily

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Yeosang was freaking out.

His stomach churning with a mix of caffeine and nerves and emotion and he just didn't want to stay still. But he tried to stop fidgeting and keep his hands steady on the wheel. His mind, also, was moving at a speed faster than his car.

Seonghwa. . . Yeosang's eyes began to fill with tears and he brought a hand to cover his trembling mouth. But he blinked them back; breathe.

Now is not the time. We've cried enough. Now is the time to be brave, to trust.

Why was he so stubborn in his unworthiness? Trust Seonghwa, Yeosang told himself. He loves you, he tried again, but didn't quite know if he understood it.

And more importantly, he thought, I love him.

Breathe.

Arriving home in late morning, Yeosang pulled his car around back. Jittery from the coffee overdose and high off adrenaline, he still he made it in a straight line to Mingi's flower garden.

But then realized he didn't have scissors. Rushing inside, mumbling to himself, Yeosang grabbed a pair off Byul's desk and headed back to the marigolds.

He snipped the stems, locating the best, fullest, most vibrant, orange flowers from the perimeter Appa's bed.

Fumbling with the flowers, he came inside, laying them on the counter. Yeosang found the bag of tissue paper and pulled out sheets of hues of blue, his Soul's favorite color.

The stems were so short that he struggled with tying the tissue properly, but fought until it was laced up with cotton twine.

Bouquet in hand, he headed for the door, and froze.

There was a knock at the door. Yeosang thought of simply sneaking through the back, avoiding the person who dared interrupt his intentions. He was in a rush.

But sighing, he jogged over and quickly, annoyedly, opened the front door.

Yeosang's eyes met his Soul and to say he was shocked, would be the greatest understatement.

He was confused and amazed and panicked at the realization that Seonghwa was here. But when Yeosang's eyes finally met Seonghwa's large, watering ones, he was simply speared through his beating chest with love.

"Yeosang-ah," the older breathed out. His eyes gazed over the mark to the left of the younger's eye.

Breathe; Seonghwa lowered his gaze, breath, and bowed at ninety degrees.

Yeosang gasped, too confounded to form words even in his own mind.

So, with Yeosang's silence, and holding the roses in hand, Seonghwa began to speak. "My Soul," he said, as he had prepared on the drive. "Please forgive my ignorance in taking so long to come back to you. I should've talked sooner, reached back for you sooner. Please forgive- -"

But now Seonghwa was shocked, cut off from his apologies as Yeosang fell to his knees before the older; to his knees in the way Yeosang had planned.

"No, no, no, Seonghwa Hyung! Why are you apologizing?" Yeosang wanted to cry at the plain absurdity of it all. "Hyung, I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm one who left you."

Seonghwa straighted, looking at the boy on the ground below him, strong heart overflowing.

"I'm so sorry," the younger continued, head to the ground. "I regret that night so much, but was too angry with myself to simply apologize to you. Seonghwa, please don't apologize. Instead-" Yeosang dropped the flowers and began rubbing his hands together. "Instead, I ask for your forgiveness, Hyung, and love, and I know I have to earn back your trust, but please allow me to."

Yeosang finished, and was quiet, only continually rubbing his palms together. His heart ached in the silence and was was suddenly gripped with the stifling fear that he'd gone too far, been too dramatic.

But Seonghwa was in love all over again. He had waited patiently for Yeosang to finish his apology, because he understood it was necessary and just. But an apology was the only reparation required.

He knelt down in front of the younger. Yeosang still tried to hide his face, but Seonghwa reached up and caressed the blond's cheecks. He brought a thumb to brush over the soul mark there.

"Yeosang-ah," he whispered. "Are you still scared? Look at me."

And so Yeosang commanded his gaze to look up, but he flinched upon meeting the older's soft eyes.

"Yeosang," Seonghwa continued. "It's okay, I forgive you."

And Yeosang's heart burst.

Falling against Seonghwa's chest, he sobbed in utter and unparalleled relief.

With Seonghwa's own heart dancing in his chest, he picked Yeosang off the ground and into his arms. Setting him inside on the living room couch, he quickly brought in the bouquets and shut the door, smiling as he saw the marigolds had dropped.

But he left the flowers and went back to Yeosang, quiet on the sofa. Sitting down, Seonghwa pulled the younger into his lap and laid back, allowing Yeosang ample room to rest on his chest.

And there they stayed. Together.

Thankfully Eomma and Appa wouldn't be home until hours later.

"Yeosang," Seonghwa asked after a while. And the younger hummed. "Do you forgive me?"

The blond head shot up, shaking. "Hyung, there's nothing to forgive!"

But Seonghwa softly smiled. "There is, my love. Please say you forgive me. . ."

And looking into Yeosang's eyes, he thought the boy's heart might break. But still, he himself had been stubborn. He knew Yeosang, knew that that night had been a grave mistake that he was beating himself up over.

"Please, Yeosang, say you forgive me."

And the younger finally realized, Seonghwa needed this as much as he did. So pushing away his old, stubborn self, pushing away the doubt that clawed at his mind, Yeosang said the words that simultaneously broke and healed his heart.

"I forgive you."

The words that cemented his adoration of Seonghwa into eternity.

They laid back again, resting for a while. . . Until Yeosang's stomach rumbled.

The younger glowed as Seonghwa laughed.

That beautiful laugh, it's been far too long. And Yeosang promised to spend eternity finding ways to make his Soul laugh more.

But Seonghwa's voice broke him from the existential thoughts. "When's the last time you've eaten?"

Now Yeosang blushed. "Uh, I had some ice cream like around one am."

And there was that laugh again. Seonghwa sat up and slowly slid Yeosang off his lap. "Come on, I'll make you something. What do you want?"

"You're so perfect, Seonghwa."

The older smirked, "That's high praise coming from Shin-bi."

And how Yeosang lept at the familiar name. But, "You're too perfect for me. . ."

"Ya!" Seonghwa scolded, startling the blond. "I can continously remind you you're a great person and should feel no guilt, but you have to believe that yourself. You have to keep fighting those thoughts. You are worth so much more than you think, my love. If you feel bad, or like you want to harm yourself, you come to me, okay? You come. I don't care what time, I will be there."

And looking down, Yeosang felt so immensely warm, so light, so in love, so in awe, he thought he might die. But right now, he didn't want to. So instead, he nodded his head, fearing tears would break free if he spoke.

"The older sighed. "I'm serious, Yeo, all these thoughts you have, you need to forget them, don't pay them attention and they'll eventually fade."

The younger looked up with doe eyes as his Soul continued. "I know it'll be hard, and sometimes you'll forget, but I'll be right here, fighting with you. . .Can you promise me something?"

"Anything." Yeosang was quick to reply, and the older smirked, "Careful."

"Promise me this, Yeosang-ah, that you won't ever feed the thoughts. Simply accept the voices, and then ignore them, don't give them space to multiply."

And Yeosang wanted to cry, again. "I promise."

Seonghwa pressed his lips against Yeosang's chapped ones, loving their familiarity. As he broke off again, he rested their foreheads together. "You need vaseline."

And finally, Yeosang laughed. "No, Hyung, I need water. Pretty sure I've only had coffee for the last 6 hours.

So Seonghwa swept him up, laughing as the other yelped, and carried him into the kitchen.

"Your water, my prince." Seonghwa bowed, handing Yeosang a glass which he accepted in the midst of a fit of giggles.

"Oh!" Seonghwa gasped and Yeosang looked on with concerned eyes. "I forgot, I got you something." He ran over to the doorway and crouched down to sweep up the roses, presenting them to Yeosang.

"I got you nine roses for the nine months we've been together." He smiled shyly and the younger delicately accepted the flowers.

"They're beautiful," he breathed. "I-I actually got you some, too."

And Seonghwa knew, of course, but he waited until Yeosang returned holding out the orange bouquet. "They're not as professional as yours; they're the marigolds Appa grows for you. . .I wrapped them in blue paper."

As Seonghwa received the bundle that was tenderly handed him, he was so wonderfully light he wondered if it were even possible to die of love.

"They're absolutely perfect, Yeo. Gorgeous." And after smelling the flowers, he embraced Yeosang for the fourth of many times that day.

The younger placed marigolds and roses in water as Seonghwa rummaged through the fridge.

Yeosang focused on perfect arrangement, and his thoughts turned more somber. "We should talk about it," he said, "what happened at San's party. We haven't talked about it at all."

Seonghwa closed the fridge and came to stand in front of his Soul, who hopped onto the counter. "Have I told you recently how much I love you?" Seonghwa asked.

And Yeosang looked at him with dusted cheeks. "It's been a while, I guess."

Seonghwa reached up to kiss his forehead. "I love you - among a variety of other reasons - because you understand. You know we need to talk about it still. It's forgiven, yes, but we need to communicate, as you said. So yes," Seonghwa stated, looking into the blond's eyes. "I agree. But not right now. I can stay the night if your parents don't mind?"

And Yeosang rolled his eyes quite dramatically. "Pretty sure they won't be anything less than ecstatic."

Holding the boy's hips, Seonghwa slotted between Yeosang's thighs as he simply stared. . . Before the rumble of a hungry tummy sounded again.

And as Seonghwa stepped away, laughing. Yeosang groaned, hitting his stomach that would dare ruin such a moment.

And Seonghwa's eyes practically flew out of his head.

Lifting a hand to his own stomach, Seonghwa looked to his mated with eyes of wonder.

"I," he began, breathless. "I felt that. On my stomach."

Yeosang grew astounded and smiled wider than in months, eyes forming crescents he couldn't control. "It's only been nine months!" He laughed. "Hyung, you must be feeling things."

But Seonghwa adamantly shook his head. He was sure.

Yeosang beamed.

"Come on," the older said, still visibly amazed. "What do you want to eat? I think I feel another tummy rumble coming."

Yeosang giggled, rolling his eyes. "Anything but fried rice."

Okay, Seonghwa thought. "Fried chicken coming right up."

And Yeosang fell in love all over again.

***

A/N: 1-10-22. Omgomgomg, so much uwu my HEArt I can't handle it 😭😭😍 this, I think was my absolute favorite chapter to write?? Maybe??

thought of ending the story here but noooo, I'd actually die. Yunho needs a proper goodbye and I want some woosan. plus I'm not emotionally prepared

As short as the story is, it's been my main occupation and obsession for the last four days. . .

1-14-22 this was just as much fun to edit 😍😍😘😘

Seonghwa with the closet thing I could find to marigolds ⬇️

This seongsang photo is perfect but Yeo is too pretty to replace up top ⬇️

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