It used to puzzle him. He was not oblivious – he knew what it meant, when someone liked you. What it looked like. He'd just never thought it was something easily accessible to him, at least not as easy as Seungcheol expressed it. Jihoon didn't understand how he could let so much emotion and affection bleed through his eyes. Through the way he looked at Jihoon.

Seungcheol was an open book. He showed his love for Jihoon in gestures that seemed natural to him. Jihoon always felt robotic when he tried. Something off, a note a little lower than it was supposed to be.

It was perfectly fine, feeling the desire of Seungcheol, his weighted gaze, the lingering touches. The proud smiles he threw his way. He was fine waiting.

Jihoon realizes too late, then. When it clicks together – the fact that he is also in love with Seungcheol, and probably has been for a while - he doesn't look back anymore. Too focused holding the hand of Jeonghan, wrapping an arm around him.

Jihoon figures it was a matter of time. Sometimes having to comb through the way his body is feeling and connect it with the emotions they supposedly mean is too hindering. A nuisance. It aches, but he figures Seungcheol felt worse, all these years.