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Gyeongseok finds Hyunju on the balcony, wrapped up in blankets and a forgotten book on her lap. The sun has just dipped over the horizon, leaving the sky full of fading pinks and purples, already casting shadows over Hyunju’s beautiful face.
“Hey, baby,” Gyeongseok murmurs, careful not to startle Hyunju. They’ve both walked out the games with a healthy dose of trauma and PTSD and every day it’s a toss-up between a good one or a bad one. “How are you feeling?”
Hyunju turns her face, smiling gently. She doesn’t look distraught, just a little distracted. “I’m alright. Just thinking.”
“Need company?”
Hyunju opens her blanket and shifts on the two-seater sofa to make room for Gyeongseok, who wedges himself partially behind her. He pulls her back to him, wrapping his arms around her. She exhales, body relaxing into him.
Gyeongseok smiles briefly when her head drops to rest on his collarbone and nuzzles his nose into her hair, soft and smelling of apples. She always smells good, feminine and sweet, just like her.
It’s nice, having a woman’s touch in his home. Theirs, now. The bathroom counter is full of makeup products and skincare bottles, a hairdryer permanently plugged in and hair ties scattered around. The couch in their small living room has decorative pillows that match the fuzzy blankets folded over the armrests. Flowers in the kitchen and adorable magnets on the fridge. A bowl shaped like a frog next to the door for their keys.
Hyunju has made their house a home, something Gyeongseok hadn’t quite managed on his own, struggling with his wife’s death and raising a sick daughter all on his own. He feels emotion swelling in his chest every time he comes home to Nayeon’s laughter and the smell of dinner in the oven.
Gratitude, joy, happiness, relief, love. Definitely love. Stronger than he’s ever felt before. Hyunju jokes that they’re bonded by trauma and that’s why they can’t stay away from each other longer than a day, but while there may be some truth to it, Gyeongseok knows he would have fallen in love with her even without the games.
He would have caught her eye at the bar and felt flutters all the way down to his legs. They would have reached for the same jar of marinara sauce at the supermarket and he would’ve made a fool of himself trying to impress her. Swiped right on Tinder without a second thought and deleted the app immediately after their first date.
It’s just her.
“What’s on your mind?” he murmurs into her hair. She sighs, burrowing backwards until she’s cozy between the cradle of his arms. She’s small like this, head under his chin and legs pulled into her chest, pressing against his thighs. It feels right like this, like he’s protecting her, making her feel safe, a habit he hasn’t been able to shake since the games. Sleeping in the same bed and keeping his body on top of hers so if anyone goes first, it’s him.
“Nothing bad,” she replies, just as quiet. Her voice has always been so soft, even before her voice feminization surgery. Now it’s just a bit more higher, a bit more her. She talks with more confidence these days and he’s just happy to lay his ear against her throat and listen to it tremble. “Just grateful to see the sunset. A little wistful.”
“Youngmi?” he guesses, kissing the back of her ear. He wishes he could take her pain and hold it for her, to crumple it up and toss it in the trash, but she’s bravely trudging onward, her strength unfathomable. She honors Youngmi’s memory by living, by appreciating every sunset like it’s the first she’s ever seen.
Hyunju hums. They watch the sky in silence, basking in each other’s warmth and company. Gyeongseok loves nights like these, with Nayeon in bed and the world around them quiet. It’s just them two, shielded from everything else, their safe place in the midst of chaos. It reminds him of the aftermath, with the hospitals and the police and the press, noise everywhere until it was pounding in his ears like a hammer.
They found solace in each other, curling against each other under the covers when it all got too much, hands covering ears and legs tangled together. They carried each other through the worst of it until they were safely on the other side, stronger together. And now they get to have this, without fear or death or debt or the hounding press lurking around the corner.
“We should get a dog,” Hyunju breaks the silence after a while, voice sleepy. “Any kind. Nayeon would love one.”
“Mhm,” Gyeongseok hums, ready to agree on anything she says. “A bulldog? They’re cute.”
“Or a pitbull. Maybe Nayeon could choose.”
“I’d like that,” Gyeongseok breathes out. “I like you.”
He can hear the smile in her voice. “I like you too. I never thought I’d get to… to have this. With someone like you.”
“I know,” he says and he does. They’ve talked about it before, her transition and what it means to him. It took her awhile to understand he loved her for her and couldn’t give two fucks how big her hands were or how tall she is, least of all what she has in her pants. He liked the way she looked. Liked it then and likes it now, after the changes. She doesn’t look too different, a little more delicate in the face, a little more shapely. Her hair’s longer and the bangs she used to have to soften her face fall over her cheekbones in elegant swoops.
She’s absolutely beautiful. Still her, just a little more comfortable in her own skin.
Getting to touch her and kiss her and spend his life with her is a blessing. An honor. Sex with her is heaven, despite her reservations and insecurities. He’s straight, always has been. Hyunju refused to let him see her naked for the longest time, scared he might be turned off by the sight of her.
Ridiculous woman. He has no qualms about getting his hands and mouth on her, his dick inside her. It’s different but it’s no less incredible. He hopes after all this time, he’s proved it to her that he’s serious. That she turns him on and makes him fall in love over and over again, every day.
“Anyone who’s ever turned you down or looked at you with nothing but contempt in their eyes is a dickhead,” he tells her, voice low but fiercely protective. “Selfishly I’m glad for it, because now I get to have you and no one else. Does that also make me a dickhead?”
She’s giggling in her blanket. “No. It makes me happy. Waiting was worth it if it got me you.”
“You’re sweet,” he teases, pushing his nose into her neck. “Sweet, sweet woman. My woman.”
“Yours,” she sighs, reaching out to push her fingers through his hair. He’s grown it out a little too, still neatly parted but a little longer. She likes it, likes touching it. He likes her touching it. “I love you.”
Gyeongseok squeezes her, relishes in the softness and firmness of her body. He’ll get her that dog. And a ring. Definitely a ring.
“Love you too, sweetheart.”