Jin's silent, rueful, staring at him like a child that's been scolded. But Yamapi's gaze, for the first time, is unwavering, and he doesn't let Jin go until he feels the tension drain out of his body. Only then does he dare to pull Jin into a hug, paparazzi and celebrity restrictions be damned. "You ditched me first," Jin eventually mumbles into his chest, but his arms rise to wrap around Yamapi anyway.

Yamapi chuckles. "I was nine," he says fondly. "It doesn't count."

"It counts," Jin argues, lifting his head as they pull apart. "It counts because I missed you." When Yamapi just smiles and shakes his head, Jin reaches out, for once wearing his honesty on his face. "I didn't really come here to tell you to get off my street," he admits. "I wanted an excuse to see you."

"Idiot," Yamapi tells him, trying to look annoyed and failing miserably. "You're the one who left."

"I know," Jin tells him. Snowflakes have started to fall, and they dust Jin's hair like little stars. "That's why I needed an excuse."

When he pulls Yamapi close again, they kiss. An "I love you too" is brushed against his lips, just barely whispered loud enough for Yamapi to hear. But it's all Yamapi needs, and when he wraps his arms around Jin a second time, he doesn't plan on letting go.

This, Yamapi thinks, standing out in the cold, wrapped up in everything Jin, this is what it's like to be home.