Archive of Our Own ^beta

It has never been easy--dealing with the intricacies and messiness that comes with being human. Being a couple is hard enough, let alone boyfriend, boyfriend and boyfriend which can sometimes feel like boyfriend, boyfriend and friend, each of them assuming a different role depending on who you ask and when you ask.

But they have learnt how to deal with it, slowly and surely with time, a fuckload of patience and the knowledge that what they have is precious and worth fighting for. Jihoon knows that he would never play a part in the shared memories that Daniel and Woojin have: of growing up smelling the salt of the sea with seagulls soaring high in the blue skies, of attending the same dance academy and spurring each other on to become better dancers, of growing up together and becoming the men that they are now together here in Seoul, in college. He can’t undo the past, insert himself, intrude into their memories. He doesn't want to--they’re not his to own, to possess.

He has something better now, anyway. His heart is at peace because now, they make their own memories: of late nights drinking in the red tents that dot the streets of Seoul, of days turned to nights holed up in the library frantically researching for their papers, of their tiny studio that’s too small for even one of them but somehow fits three, of their fights full of Woojin’s quiet fury, Daniel’s sullenness and his ugly, cruel words, of them coming together again after the dust has settled with tentative touches, small smiles and soft apologies, of this--Woojin’s tongue in his mouth, Daniel’s lips on his ear, his one hand on Woojin’s bicep and the other in Daniel’s hair.

The past cannot compete with the present, the present with the past. They co-exist, they reinforce, they build up and they tear down. They make Jihoon, Woojin and Daniel who they were yesterday, who they are today and who they will be tomorrow and for the many tomorrows to come.