one hundred true moments [kiho, kihyun x wonho]

001

The pain is always there in unexpected ways.

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As Kihyun steps out of the van, he knows within two seconds that he's made a terrible mistake.

He supposes that he was just too tired before, still drowsy and half-asleep when they had left the dorm early that morning, to notice how cold it really was outside, but now that he's fully awake, and they've arrived at the broadcast studio for today's schedule, he realizes just how foolish he had been for his oversight. He realizes just how stupid he had been for forgoing a good, warm pair of gloves.

His hands, his poor little hands, are ice-cold and bone-dry, aching, almost burning from the sting of the bitter winter air.

As if to emphasize that point, the wind picks up at that very moment, blows through and bites into the soft, pale skin of his exposed hands, and Kihyun curls them into little fists at his sides in a vain attempt to keep them warm. Of course, his luck, his jacket of choice for the day doesn't have pockets. Or, it does, but they're sewn shut for the sake of fashion. It figures.

The sky is gray, and the light is gray, and he bites down into his lower lip and frowns, eyebrows furrowing as another gust of cold, unforgiving wind swirls by, and he starts stepping lightly up and down on his feet, anything to distract him as he waits for the others and for their manager and staff to climb out of their little parade of vans so that they can all go inside to the studio and get out of the cold.

They had parked quite far away this time, and it'll be a long walk, and Kihyun seriously wonders if he might get frostbite on the way in. He wonders if it would cause a scandal, him losing his fingers to frostbite because management wasn't paying enough attention to how he dressed himself. He wonders if the company would try to play it off as a positive thing, him powering through as an idol despite the hardships, suffering bravely for the fans.

He's busy pondering what seems to be an increasingly inevitable future when, suddenly, he feels a large, solid hand squeeze lightly on his shoulder from behind. The hand is big and warm and strong, and unlike his own, it's gloved in soft, supple leather, and Kihyun knows without turning around that it's Hoseok.

Kihyun smiles a tiny little smile, his heart jumping in his chest.

When he finally does turn around, they make eye contact, and Hoseok grins, wide and toothy, and bringing a tingle to Kihyun's ice-cold fingertips for just a moment. Hoseok's face is pale as milk, and his nose is red, as are the tips of his ears, and the apples of his cheeks, and Kihyun knows he must be ten times worse with his own sensitivity to the cold, but right now he thinks Hoseok looks beautiful.

Hoseok doesn't say a word as he lowers his hand from Kihyun's shoulder and promptly removes his right glove, shaking his head and chuckling softly, the sound oozing with fondness. He then takes hold of Kihyun's bare right hand, and slides the glove on smoothly and quickly, before Kihyun even has a chance to say anything, to protest and to insist that he'll be fine, even though they both know that he loves when Hoseok takes care of him.

Hoseok's glove is a little big on him, and honestly, it's the kind of ugly but high-fashion accessory that only Hoseok could pull off, but it's warm from Hoseok's hand, and it's soft and snug, and it soothes the trembling of Kihyun's cold fingers immediately, as if his body knows instinctively that anything from Hoseok makes everything better. And Kihyun is grateful, so grateful. But now, they both have only one glove each, and Kihyun smirks at his handsome hyung, raises an eyebrow and looks at him with an amused expression, as if to teasingly ask, "What now, genius?"

They're both silent, but Kihyun nearly breaks it, nearly gasps when Hoseok reaches to take Kihyun's bare left hand in his now bare right hand, then guides their hands together to the inside of the right pocket of his coat. Kihyun's mouth falls open and his eyes flutter, because the pocket is soft and roomy, enough space for both of their hands to fit comfortably, and Hoseok's hand is so big and so warm. Their fingers intertwine automatically, and Kihyun can feel Hoseok's heartbeat thumping against his own from the pulse points of their palms pressed together.