Chapter Text
Suho isn't a selfish person.
He barely owns anything to be selfish about anyways. He cycles through the same five outfits every week. His school uniform is a hand-me-down from a neighbour’s son. He never buys anything unless it’s really needed. All of his hard earned money goes to halmeoni — to pay rent and put food on the table.
So he thinks it’s okay to want this one thing for himself. This one person.
Yeon Sieun.
Sitting across from Suho in the train coach, eyes fixed on the passing trees outside. Sunlight washes over the soft features of his face, casting everything in a warm orange glow. The windows are open, and his hair flutters gently in the wind.
Are you having a good time?
Suho wants to ask, but Sieun prefers silence.
So he settles for resting his head on folded arms on the table between them. Uses the moment to watch Sieun instead.
Sieun has been sad for the past week. All because of Oh Beom.
Oh Beom who, for whatever reason, suddenly switched sides, abandoning Suho and Sieun for those bullies who sit at the back of their class. Who threw away their friendship like it meant nothing in the first place. Suho sees the way it hurts Sieun, given his constant attempts at amending things. Oh Beom that bastard only brushes Sieun off every time. It pisses Suho off so much.
To cheer Sieun up, he asked Sieun if he wanted to go to the beach. A short day trip. Play in the warm summer sea, watch the sunset, then head home. Sieun agreed and here they are, on a train en route to Incheon.
A sick part of Suho is glad Oh Beom is out of the picture.
Because now it’s just the two of them, like before.
Now, he can have all of Sieun’s attention.
“What are you thinking about?” Sieun says, startling Suho out of his reverie.
“Huh?” Suho says, sitting up straight. Afraid he might have spoken his thoughts out loud.
“You zoned out for a bit,” Sieun explains, voice a low calming sound. The sunlight catches his eyes, deepening their warm brown hue. A few strands of hair fall over one eye, and Suho has a half mind to reach over and tuck them behind his ear.
“Suho-yah,” Sieun calls, frowning.
“Oh. Hyung’s just thinking about what to eat when we get to the beach,” Suho lies. They’re easier than truths that are his messed up feelings.
He expects Sieun to complain about how food is all he thinks about. But instead—
“There’s a cafe in the last coach. We can go grab something to eat,” Sieun suggests, making to get up.
“No, I’m good. You know how I’m always thinking of food.”
Sieun studies his face for a moment. Suho offers a smile that he hopes does not come off as an awkward grimace. A beat. Two.
And then Sieun breaks eye contact. He rummages through his sling bag, carefully taking out a piece of samgak kimbap and holding it out to Suho. “Here, eat this first.”
“Sieun-ah, I’m not hungry, really,” Suho says, pushing the kimbap back towards him.
Hurt flashes across Sieun’s face, eyes downcast as he withdraws his hand, resting the kimbap on his lap.
And gosh, Suho immediately regrets it. Feels like the worst person on the planet for making Sieun upset. He needs to fix this. Fast.
He stands, goes around the table to Sieun’s side. Sits next to him, close enough that there’s no space between them. Sieun still won’t look up, eyes focused on the kimbap in his lap.
“Sieun-ah,” Suho coaxes, gentle. Inside, he's panicking. This trip is supposed to cheer Sieun up. Make him happy. They haven’t even reached their destination yet and Suho has ruined everything.
With unsteady hands, he reaches for the kimbap, finds no resistance when he takes it out of Sieun’s hands. He tears off the red strip in the middle, pulls off the two ends of the plastic, and breaks the kimbap into two.
“Here,” he says, holding one half out to Sieun. “We can share.”
It must be the right thing to do because Sieun finally looks up at him.
There you are.
Suhon cracks a placating smile.
Sieun, however, does not accept the offering. He just stares at Suho, eyes pleading. Like he’s hoping Suho will understand what he’s thinking without uttering a word.
Unfortunately, Suho is not a mind reader, so he just sits there, nervous out of his mind.
After a few seconds of silence, Sieun directs his gaze to the kimbap, then looks back up to Suho. A silent request.
It dawns on Suho that Sieun’s heart is fragile right now — raw from being cast aside by Oh Beom. Sieun must have taken Suho’s rejection for something bigger than it is. And he needs this closeness to feel wanted, still.
By Suho.
Guilt churns in Suho’s stomach. He should have known better. Shouldn’t have made Sieun feel unwanted.
Seeing that Suho finally understands, Sieun closes his eyes and opens his mouth.
Surrendering to vulnerability.
How lucky Suho is to see this side of him.
He lifts the kimbap higher, feeding it to Sieun. Watches the way Sieun takes a small bite, then chews slowly. Only after swallowing does he open his eyes again, wordlessly asking for more.
Suho feeds him until he finishes eating his portion.
Feeling safe again, Sieun lays his head on Suho’s shoulder, facing the view outside.
“You can have the rest,” he says softly, and Suho does.
They stay like that for the rest of the ride. Suho relaxes his shoulder, careful not to jostle Sieun.
It doesn’t take long for Sieun to fall asleep.