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Summary
The last time Sunoo had felt like this, he was fourteen, home alone, and had googled "hot muscular men" on the family computer and sat very still for a contemplative moment and came to realize that, oh, that's what this is.
He felt the same enlightenment. He thought he'd known the full spectrum of gayness but at this point he wasn't even sure if he knew his own gayness. Perhaps he hadn't been properly gay until this moment and that he had to come out again as a gay 2.0 because this face in front of him was the face people go gay for.
Sunoo found out, the hard way, that Park Sunghoon had gotten hot.
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Sunghoon
Are you up?
I kinda need to talkNow, Sunoo's phone lights up, and that's the only thing on his mind.
Well, it seems to always be, lately.
Sunoo
yeah, i’m here
what's wrong? -
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Summary
There was a point in time when Sunghoon questioned if he was ever worthy of this kind of love, if the tenderness of the hands that held him close was allowed to be only his.
These days, Sunghoon doesn’t question it anymore—if the glimmer on Sunoo’s left ring finger was anything to go by.
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Sunghoon buys the espresso machine Sunoo’s been overworking himself for, knowing it’ll make him mad, but he’d rather face that than watch him crash. When Sunoo finally breaks down, it’s the quiet kind of love that holds him together.
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Summary
Sunghoon despises anyone touching his hair. At least that's what he thought until Sunoo did it.
Or also: five times Sunoo touches Sunghoon's hair, and one time Sunghoon asks him to.

