(for coppertears) So tell me the way home
For: coppertears
Title: So tell me the way home
Genre: slight!angst, romance
Rating: PG-13
Length: 8,230 words
Summary: retrouvailles (n.) the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery
Notes: Hello! To coppertears, I hope you don’t mind that I incorporated 3 of your prompts into one fic (Ed Sheeran’s One, induratize, retrouvailles). All of your prompts were lovely and I wish I could have written them all for you. I’m crossing my fingers that you’ll like this anyway. To everyone, I wish the same. Happy 3daysofkaisoo! Also, a quick thank you to the mods for letting me pinch-hit and for organizing this exchange. :)
And I know you’re gonna be away a while
Night has long settled in when the slow creaking of a door echoes in the deserted living room. Soft footsteps make their way in the dark with a tired gait, a slight drag of socked feet across the polished floor. One of the doors is carefully opened to reveal even more inky blackness with just a sliver of light from the curtained windows coming through. The exhausted man makes his way to the unoccupied bed, sitting down and laying his bag on the floor. Oh how he wants to just sleep right then and there. But a shower is in order. Always remove your make-up before bed and apply the necessary moisturizers. Face and skin care is top priority. He heaves a heavy sigh before pushing himself off the bed and going out of the room.
The lights of the bathroom are blinding to his weary eyes. His fingers come up to massage his temples as he tries to adjust to the abrupt brightness. A man, on the verge of collapsing, looks back at him through the mirror when he eventually looks up. Sinking eyes with dark eye bags under them lack the luster they once had. Perfectly shaped lips are a pale shade of sick drawn into a tight line, ends tugging down a bit. The slightest hint of wrinkles appear on his forehead and on the corners of his eyes. His black hair is lackluster and limp, stray strands falling haphazardly over his face. It makes the sickly paleness of his skin stand out even more. He’s tired.
He divests himself of his clothes once he’s had enough of looking, analyzing how much more he can take before collapsing. He can take much more. This is nothing compared to last year. The warm water from the shower head feels soothing against his skin and his body goes lax under it. As much as his body protests against moving though, quickness is necessary if he wants to get about 4 hours of sleep. That’s as long as he can gamble before work tugs him out of bed. Less than 10 minutes later, he’s fully clothed and surrounded by darkness again. There’s only one thing he spreads over his face in practiced motions before allowing himself to succumb to slumber with a last look upon the lump on the bed across him. He gazes at the steady rise and fall of the thin blanket until his eyes close and he remembers nothing but the distinct ache of his worn out limbs.
The jarring sound of his alarm rouses him from sleep. He blinks a few times to clear his blurry vision as a hand blindly reaches for the disturbance. Swiping at the phone’s screen, thankfully, brings back the silence. Eyes take in the room bathed in dim light by the early morning sunshine passing through the curtains. They land once more to that lump on the other bed. How he wishes he could fall back onto his own and sleep just like that, along with another sense of longing. But work is work. Habitually going by all that he needs to do to get ready, morning greets him again. It’s as he eats his bread that a manager unlocks the door and ushers him out with another bread put in his hands. So another tiring day begins as he leaves the still sleeping apartment.
When he’s finally on break, he hides away from the numerous lights and props, staff and cameras. Everyone mills around him, exhaustion clinging onto their backs and barely staved off by their numerous shots of coffee. Water is handed to him and it disappears as he gulps it down a bit greedily. Today is a weirdly bad day. He usually gets along well with his co-workers. Somehow though, things are getting on his nerves and a somberness washes over him all the time. It shouldn’t be that way. He genuinely likes being here and working. And then it comes to him that it must have been a foreboding when he overhears his manager speaking on the phone.
“Have you asked Jongin about the offer from K-Arts?” His manager tries hard to be quiet with other people around but at the same time loud enough for the one on the other end to hear. He’s sure it’s another manager. “It’s gotten the OK from the higher-ups.”
He feels a strong desperation to ask what that offer is, what it entails. A hand on his shoulder takes him away from his thoughts and the make-up artist does a touch up. The feeling of mind-body separation becomes worse and his mood plunges down further. It must be an offer to be a student in their School of Dance. Jongin has always gotten such things and declined them. Right now though. Right now, he might not. He’d probably accept it. He’d probably have a full schedule of practicing and going to class. He’d probably have no more time to wait. But it’s not like Jongin’s been waiting for him. That’s just his wishful thinking. They had gone their separate ways in order to pursue their different career paths all the while doing activities of their group. But that conversation had been awful.
“Kyungsoo-ssi, break time is over.” A staff member leads him back to the set for the filming - a 9 episode crime series. Thoughts of Jongin are tucked carefully away at the back of his mind along with the troubled feelings that come with it, as day turned into night.
Darkness and silence are his unwanted companions when he gets back to the apartment. The same as always when he constantly gets there at ungodly hours with people already fast asleep. Tonight, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming urge to sprawl on the floor and sleep there. No. Socked feet take him hurriedly to a room where a sliver of light underneath the door peaks through. The creaking of the opening door has him flinching in his mind but he presses on to finally see the usual lump on the bed nowhere to be found. Instead, Jongin is sitting against the pillow with sheets of paper in his hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Jongin looks up at him.
“Hyung. Welcome back.” There’s a smile on those lips unlike all the ones previously there. It reminds Kyungsoo of washed away ink on a rained on paper. Blurred and murky patches of something lost. “How was your day?”
“Tiring. I wish I could sleep longer.” Hesitance drags his feet and makes his hands sweat. He eventually makes it to his bed, sitting down to face the other. Is it fine to ask Jongin? Does he still have the right to do so? He wishes he does. “What are those?”
“An invitation letter to K-Arts. They’re inviting me in either their Department of Dance Performance or Department of Choreography. The curriculum for both looks impressive.” Jongin’s eyes shift from Kyungsoo to the papers again, studying them. “Yeah. Definitely impressive.”
“Oh.” What was he supposed to answer to that? What had he replied back then when Jongin had constantly been bombarded with university offers? The memories are slipping like sand as anxiety builds up in him. He looks down at his lap before bringing his head up with a smile etched upon his lips. “That’s good. Maybe you should take the offer.”
“I have. Well, I’ve already decided to say yes but the managers said I should sleep on it and tell them my answer tomorrow. But I’m definitely accepting.”
A boulder lies heavy in Kyungsoo’s stomach as he stares at the determination set upon Jongin’s eyes and stature. Had this been what Jongin felt so long ago when he had been determined to advance in his acting career? It’s confusing to want to see that growth yet hold onto the person. His captive emotions rampaging within his built up walls fall upon deaf ears. How dare he try to persuade Jongin not to when he had went through with his own plans? Plans that involved being away for long periods of time and ending whatever it had been between them while he pursued the heights of achievement.
“I’m glad you will. I think it’ll be really helpful to you.” He relaxes his face enough for his smile not to look strained and twitchy. “Have you decided which department you want to enroll in?”
Lips purse into a thin line as Jongin’s eyes dart between two particular papers, weighing his options. After a moment of silence, he turns his head slightly to look at Kyungsoo. “Choreography, I guess. Their curriculum and course descriptions are interesting. I think I’ll learn a lot.”
“You’ll do well.” Honesty. That’s all there is in those words because Jongin will definitely do well. That’s all he can say, all that he could let himself say.
“Thanks, hyung.” The smile on Jongin’s lips is still murky, somewhat bland despite the sincerity. It’s been this way since that time. Jongin could say the same about Kyungsoo’s smiles though like taffy being pulled apart. A bitter tasting taffy. “You should get ready for bed. You always leave so early in the morning.”
The boulder somehow turns into butterflies filling up Kyungsoo’s stomach. Whenever Jongin alludes to caring about him, it’s a warm coffee going down his throat in the morning. A thick blanket at winter time. A tight embrace of comfort. Tiny seedlings of hope planted. But they never did grow. Before, it had been him nipping them prior to bearing fruit. Now, he finds himself waiting for the rain to nurture them. It never comes though. Jongin is miles and miles away from him. His rain.
“Thank you. You should sleep too.” Hands grip on knees tightly before they push and Kyungsoo stands up with a last smile toward Jongin. He waits for the briefest moment, just until his smile is returned. Then off he goes in a pace a bit quicker than his body has the energy for. Under the shower head, he realizes his relationship with Jongin is just like the tiles he’s standing on. A little warm but significantly colder in reality. That’s how they are now.
When he comes back into their room, Jongin is already fast asleep under the covers with just tufts of hair peeking out from underneath. He joins the other to the land of dreams. Maybe there they’d meet under better circumstances. Maybe there he wouldn’t have had to push away Jongin and his own feelings aside. Maybe there he could be beside Jongin instead of alone on his bed. Nightmares have a strong hold on him though. And early morning greets a drained man staring blankly at the other bed. The late morning greets a forlorn man staring longingly at an empty bed. Jongin is sure Kyungsoo doesn’t realize he’s still waiting hopelessly for the other’s change of mind and a collapse of those built up walls. He’s still waiting for a chance to show Kyungsoo that they could make it work. Jongin is still hoping and dreaming of Kyungsoo, for Kyungsoo, to be with Kyungsoo.
And you know, everything changes but
We’ll be strangers if we see this through
The established routine of waking up and sleeping alone for 2 weeks crumbles into fractured pieces of a hazy reverie. Mornings now greet him with Jongin waking up alongside him, kicking back the blanket and sitting up with barely opened eyes. His alarm is now for both of them, set up to a higher volume. A lopsided smile and variations of “Good morning” bombard his senses. He could only pull enough of his muddled thoughts to greet back and smile tiredly. The bags under his eyes always feel heaviest upon waking and a fleeting thought passes by. He must look so awful in those sleepy eyes trained on him. The blanket over his body seems to call out to hide underneath it. But there’s work waiting and lateness is never an option.
While he heads straight to the bathroom, Jongin stretches and lazily gathers the day’s necessary items. The fogged up mirror is now frequently wiped for Kyungsoo to check his appearance after a warm bath. He looks the same as always. Just slowly appearing more frazzled. With a shake of his head, cold air enters the bathroom and a few droplets of water fall in a certain path leading to a bedroom. Jongin is always sitting on an unfixed bed, towel hanging on the edge. Sometimes, he finds the other holding onto papers or, on the rare occasion, a book. And whenever he enters, Jongin would look up, smile a bit, and head off to shower. He makes it a point to always tuck in and arrange the blankets on both beds properly after putting on clothes. Protests would always accompany the opening of the door. He waves them all off every time. They could be distant but he could still do that much.
Jongin would always stare at Kyungsoo for a while whenever they get into that somewhat, not really, argument of fixing Jongin’s bed. Those eyes that seem to be searching for something, maybe someone, never fail to make Kyungsoo’s palms sweat. Guilt rises to his throat at the scrutiny. The stare never lasts long. Jongin knows Kyungsoo feels uneasy whenever he looks at the other long enough. He could guess from Kyungsoo’s small nervous habit of rubbing fingertips discreetly. Occasionally, the biting of lower or upper lip. By then, Kyungsoo would grab his bag and exit the room with a “See you later” and a smile. Jongin only rarely is ever able to catch Kyungsoo still at the dining table after he prepares for another school day. When he does, he sits across with his own cup of coffee and slice of bread, glancing uncaught at his companion. But Kyungsoo always leaves first, deserting Jongin to the silent apartment.
Night-time varies. Sometimes Jongin arrives early from a day of school and practice. Other times, he stays longer within the practice room of the SM building. He’s the only one with different times of arrival because Kyungsoo always comes through their apartment door well into the night, always around 1 or 2. Instead of the blinding darkness always greeting him home, Kyungsoo now finds light underneath the door to their bedroom whether Jongin is fast asleep or not. Socked feet still drag sluggishly across the floor, probably picking up the gathering dust and dirt. Everyone else is fast asleep. Or at least, that’s what he presumes from the lack of noise from the other rooms. He doesn’t particularly care when all he could think of is sleep and filming. And a stray thought of Jongin or several.
One time, papers are splayed out on Jongin’s bed while the owner is fast asleep when Kyungsoo goes into their room. A simple look at the mess and he sighs loudly. It’s not as if Jongin would wake up from the sound. He gathers up the sheets of paper, not minding if they were in order or not, and places the small pile on the bedside table between their beds. Jongin is half-sitting up and half-falling to the side and Kyungsoo sighs once more. He can do this. They’ve held hands and hugged before, even after the fight. This is different though. Because now, the longing is constantly twirling his heart round and round. Letting it fall to his stomach. Letting it lodge at his throat. It’s been happening ever since he took on this series and Jongin had looked at him a particular way when the announcement came. An unfitting resignation highlighted the marginal happiness coloring the smile he’d been given.
Maybe those vehement promises of waiting had been burned to dust by his own actions and his own words during that disastrous but hushed up fight. Maybe with the same bricks he’d used to erect the walls around him, he had crushed all of Jongin’s resolve. Dispirited all of Jongin’s determination. Nothing before that particular smile had strung at Kyungsoo. But when Jongin had looked at him like that, he had felt as if he has lost something he could never get back. From then on, he’d been constantly plagued by memories and questions. Every night had him facing Jongin before going to sleep, staring and longing. The want swirling into a need to have back the close relationship they had. The close relationship that had almost turned into something more. Almost. He had ended what they should never have, what they are never allowed to have. He had done it twice.
Jongin’s head falls down abruptly, body jerking, but closed eyes don’t open and the steady breathing doesn’t change. Kyungsoo holds onto Jongin’s shoulders as he slowly guides Jongin to lie on the bed properly. The blanket is pulled up to the slight cleft chin and arms are tucked underneath. A hand rests on Jongin’s cheek, thumb rubbing gently, as another grips onto the blanket tightly, just above Jongin’s chest. After a while, he moves away. There’s a pause to stare at the face of the person unaware of the emotions and thoughts that eat him away before he leaves to bathe. Under the running water, he keeps himself in line. He reminds himself the reasons for his decision. He convinces himself of the rightness of his judgment. He stacks up more bricks. More. More.
“Thanks, hyung.” It’s those words that greet him the morning after with the warmest smile on Jongin’s lips he’s received. His mind is suddenly pulled to reality. He bites his lower lip harshly at the onslaught of emotions that drown him. His hands clench into fists, shaking and sweating. His breathing shortens into quick intakes and outtakes. Jongin just continues to smile despite his lack of response. “It’s been more than a month and the work load is getting heavier. But it’s fun. I might fall asleep like that more often. Sorry but please take care of me.”
How cheeky. Kyungsoo bites the insides of his cheeks this time before finally having enough wit to reply. He hashes out all that he’d told himself as he went to sleep and bears his battered armor. It’s heavy, suffocating. A price to be paid for protection. “Jongin, take care of yourself. I’m not your mother and I’m already really tired. I can’t keep doing last night.”
The smile falls and Kyungsoo’s heart falls with it. Jongin had anticipated the reply though. He knows of Kyungsoo’s stubbornness and reluctance. Understands these all too well. It hurts despite the knowledge. He hopes still because he also understands the lingering touch from last night and the gazes he sometimes catches directed at him. He sighs and looks at Kyungsoo’s straight face with a condoling expression. “Until when, hyung?”
Kyungsoo understands the unsaid words, feeling like the child between the two of them with that expression on Jongin’s face. No. He isn’t. He’s the mature one. He’s the one thinking clearly about the future, their future. He pushes down the elation at the thought that Jongin is still waiting, still holding on. Jongin shouldn’t. “Until you understand that it’s never going to happen.”
“And who’ll be happy from all of this? You? Me? No. Everyone else, yes. But not us.” Jongin wonders when Kyungsoo would stop running and just take a risk. The one-sided decision is logical to a point but it’s also the easy way out in his eyes. Ignore their feelings in favor of keeping everything else intact. He knows the consequences. He also knows they could make it work if Kyungsoo could only take his hand. He could see the loneliness clinging onto Kyungsoo because he could feel it himself. “You know you’ll never be content even with all the awards and the trophies.”
No words follow. Kyungsoo glares before quickly gathering all of his things and clothes and fleeing from the room. Calloused hands run harshly through wet hair, tugging insistently. Maybe physical pain could overshadow the wounds in his heart. It’s not the case and he wouldn’t let himself go down that road. He’ll keep it all in. Dismiss everything. He puts on his clothes in the humid bathroom after, not caring for the sticky feeling. He picks up his bag from the floor beside the bathroom door and heads onto the dining table to eat breakfast. He doesn’t acknowledge Jongin walking across the apartment and goes to work without the routine farewell. The apartment that had been slowly warming up suddenly turns hostilely cold and the silence becomes stifling.
All my senses come to life
While I’m stumbling home as drunk as I
Have ever been and I’ll never leave again
Loud chattering falls upon deaf ears. Filming has finally finished after a little more than 3 grueling months of barely gained rest and repeated takes of numerous scenes. Fingers twirl a cold glass of beer, wiping at the condensation on the surface. It’s been about a month since Kyungsoo has once again lay waste upon his relationship with Jongin. They’ve reverted back to the seemingly close but internally distant interactions with customary greetings and obscure smiles. Sometimes a playful conversation to remake a teetering friendship. He wonders if Jongin has finally resigned to their fate like he wanted.
The glass is emptied. Its contents swirling in his stomach. The temperature around him and inside him rises, a balmy feeling. He watches everyone else for a while. They’re all engaged in different conversations and all in different states of inebriation. A few co-actors and actresses coax him into talking and joining but he declines politely. At this point, in his less than appropriate state, he’d rather keep to himself. Thoughts keep passing in and out of his mind that he might unwittingly blurt out things he would like to be unknown. His phone vibrates in the pocket of his jeans and he pulls it out. A message from Junmyeon congratulating him and reminding him to take care. He smiles at the sweet gesture.
Will Jongin send him a message as well? And there goes those kinds of dangerous thoughts, one after another. Unrelenting. He wonders where the bricks he uses are. His walls seem to have disappeared. He stares at the black screen of his phone as Jongin continues to be the center of all that he’s thinking and all that he’s feeling. Everything seems to be at a standstill, frozen in a wretched parody. A sharp-bladed mockery. He could see his distorted reflection on the screen. Fingers peel off the protector in a rush of discordant sentiments.
Screams are ringing in his ears and he wonders if he could really get used to feeling like he’s going to be deaf. It’s what he signed up for so he’ll make do. Besides, it’s very heart-warming as well when they have fans coming to see them perform and cheering them on. He doesn’t want to disappoint them. But right now, his throat feels sore from all the practicing and probably the cold weather. He sighs as the neon lights from the stage flash into their direction. The backstage is mostly unlit and everyone is treading a bit carefully and a bit in a rush. His heart leaps to his throat when cold fingers run up and down his throat. It’s Jongin. He relaxes and lets the other massage his neck.
“Better?”
Eyes look intensely at him as if daring him to lie. It’s not as if he would and Jongin has a knack for being able to read him well so lying is a moot point. He chalks it up to their somewhat similar personalities. He smiles, “A bit. Thanks, Jongin.”
The screen protector is pressed back gently onto the phone, fingers gliding across its surface in calculated motions. After running his fingers back and forth a few times, Kyungsoo stares at the screen again and scrutinizes it. Ah. The protector is a bit tilted. He should straighten it. Just like how he should make things right with Jongin. Right? He needs things to be fine between them. But nothing is ever going to be fine. Not with these feelings they have. Not with this popularity. Not with their ambitions. Not with everybody else breathing down their necks. He rips the protector off his screen again.
A door is closed gently, clicking shut. It’s a far cry from the brewing tension within the room. The hand on the doorknob slowly lets go and Kyungsoo turns around to face Jongin. There’s a stormy expression boding a grim conversation. He schools his own face into a stern expression. They had already started the downhill slide to wreckage when Jongin had kissed him in a vulnerable moment. A moment they had all been having with all the problems that came crashing at them, all that they’ve lost and all that they’re trying to keep intact.
“I’ve told you.” He spits out in a venomous whisper. “I’ve told you we couldn’t. I thought you backed away. Jongin, you know why I said no. We’re not normal people. We’re idols. In Korea. Korea where being in a gay relationship is just saying you want to commit suicide. Double suicide because we’re idols. You know how people are.”
“We could make it work, Kyungsoo. It’s not as if I’m going to kiss you in public. I have common sense. I like you so much. I want to be able to comfort you. Especially now.” Jongin takes a step forward but Kyungsoo’s glare keeps him from going further.
“There’s nothing that can be hidden for long. Nothing. And comfort me? You can comfort me as a friend. Without the whole kissing and romantic relationship. As if that’s actually comforting.”
Jongin glares back at him as if to point out how big of a lie his last words were because the brief press of Jongin’s lips on his while they had been sitting side by side on the bed had actually relieved him, consoled him. For a moment, that is. When his thoughts came back to him, he had shoved Jongin away and quickly stood up to close the door. He feels equally enraptured and outraged. He stacks up his bricks before the memory of the wonderful feeling could cloud his judgment.
“We can never go back to the way we were before. I’m sure you’ve realized that too. Any friendship we pursue from now on - no, ever since you told me we should stay away from each other and follow our own paths - will amount to nothing. We have feelings for each other no simple friend should have. Even if you hide yours in those stupid walls.” This time, the glare does nothing to deter Jongin from closing in on Kyungsoo. The look he gives Kyungsoo has the latter feeling small. “At least I have the courage to accept my own feelings and take a risk.”
Hands push him away from the door, he notes how careful they still were when moving him. And then Jongin leaves him alone in their bedroom to lament over his loss and to construct even more walls. This is already the second conversation they had about this. He’s strong. He will not be deterred by his fatuous emotions. This is for the best.
Fingers hesitate for a long time as they let the protector hover over the screen. There’s a frown on Kyungsoo’s lips because Jongin’s words keep repeating themselves in his mind, louder and louder each time. They’re taunting him of the things he could not do. They’re making him out to be a coward. He’s not a coward. He’s being realistic and setting his priorities straight. He has responsibilities. Jongin has them too. They couldn’t just forgo them to become lovers. His mind couldn’t even fathom the multitude of repercussions that await down that road.
On and off, he messes with his screen protector. Sometimes, repeatedly locking and unlocking the screen. Thoughts drift back and forth. They’re mostly memories of conversations and moments with Jongin. It slowly floods him with yearning and guilt, waves rising and rising until he could barely breathe. There’s truth to those words. He’s a cautious person, always calculating and treading with care. The same could be said for Jongin. But this time, the other had jumped off the figurative cliff after coming to the conclusion that they were worth putting all caution to the wind.
”It’s not as if anything drastic will change between us if we get together. You’ll treat me the same as you always do. I’ll do it too. With the bonus of being able to say I like you and to kiss you. And even more cuddling and hugging.”
The grip on his phone tightens. Where are his bricks? Where are his walls? They’ve all collapsed and he’s left to admit that Jongin had been right all along. They are worth the risk. He could no longer keep up this pseudo-friendship they had. Not when he watches Jongin sleep, wondering if it’s possible that he could keep Jongin like this, with Jongin only loving him even if they’re skirting away from each other. He doesn’t want to wake up and find that Jongin has abandoned hope and moved on from him. So he gets up, bids everyone goodbye, and goes back to the apartment.
Darkness welcomes one. Kyungsoo had shooed away the worried manager with assurances of being able to get into his own room just fine. He isn’t even severely drunk. Just a bit tipsy. And a lot more aware than he usually is. As evidence of supposed sobriety, his shoes are properly placed into the cabinet before he cleans the floor with his socks as his feet slide across it. The light coming from their room is his guide. He muses how it seems like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Something like salvation. Something like home.
At first, there’s only a tiny crack on the door to allow him to see if Jongin is asleep. He smiles when he sees the curled up lump, hair sticking out and an arm hanging off the edge. Slowly making his way in, he closes the door quietly and sits down beside Jongin’s bed. Eyes stare in a trance at the hand just within reach. He pokes at the fingers, the palm, the back of the hand, the arm, and just about everywhere that is exposed. He traces the lines on Jongin’s palm, amused with the slight twitches he causes. All his actions cease and he looks down somberly at the hand again. There’s no use anymore. He takes it between both his own and presses it upon his cheek as he moves to lay his head on Jongin’s bed.
“I forgot the cement.”
Settle down with me
Cover me up
Cuddle me in
It’s hot. Kyungsoo frowns at being awoken by the sweltering heat. His barely open eyes could only make out that it’s still dark, so very dark that he couldn’t see anything. Sweat trickles down his neck and back. He could even feel it on his arms. The humidity is suffocating him. He groans, struggling to catch a whiff of cold air on his face at the very least. Maybe get out of bed. In the subsequent tussle against his non-physical enemy, he belatedly realizes he’s been under a thick blanket and someone had their arm and leg over him. He curses at the blanket and whoever it is hugging him and preventing him from escaping.
“Hyung.”
The gravelly sound whispers against his skin, breath tickling his perspiring neck. He cringes and moves away despite the growing headache from all of his rough movements. All of a sudden, a chilly breeze greets his upper body and he could breathe well. Long and deep breaths are taken to savor the pleasant feeling of refreshment. He brings a hand up to brush away the damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Eyes adjust to the light in the room. It seems to be morning, not as early as he usually wakes up but not late morning either. Maybe it’s 7 or 8 o’clock.
“Better?”
He turns his head to look at whoever idiot thought it a good idea to pull the blanket up over their heads and suffocate them with lack of air. Sleepy eyes look at him with amusement and a smile dances on thick lips. Jongin. Of course. His glare garners laughter that rings in his ears and swims in his mind. And the anger melts away into wonder. He doesn’t know how he ended up in Jongin’s bed. He only remembers sitting beside it and surely not climbing in. His nose wrinkles at Jongin’s morning breath hitting his face.
“Oh sure. Because your stinky breath is so much better than mine.” The grin Jongin has is a challenge. A challenge that Kyungsoo knows he’ll lose because he drank alcohol last night.
They stay quiet for a while, just looking at each other. Maybe trying to engrave in their memories every line and wrinkle on the other’s face. Kyungsoo doesn’t understand the warmth between them. It’s as if the distance has been crossed. Is he just dreaming? Is this all a dream induced by his desire coupled with a few glasses of beer? He must actually be on the floor, passed out, and Jongin is away at university. The comfort in their interaction is so foreign, like a distant memory. Aside from that, sleeping and being beside each other like this hasn’t happened in a very long time, not since he began to pull away from Jongin.
“Why?” Kyungsoo finally manages to ask.
Jongin couldn’t help the smile from breaking out. Kyungsoo had been so caught up in doing the supposed right thing that he failed to realize something. Jongin is always waiting. He never had any intention of giving up. Patience had been hard work. There were frustrating times that led him to grow angry and resentful especially when Kyungsoo had been at the peak of stubbornness. He’s adjusted since then and accommodated Kyungsoo’s need for time and space. It was a sad affair but the other just needed the right nudge. Which apparently had been alcohol. He wonders if he should have gotten Kyungsoo drunk earlier. But all is well. He heard Kyungsoo’s one line last night. After making sure the other is sleeping, he’d gathered Kyungsoo up and pulled the blanket over both of them.
“That’s a silly question, hyung. You know the answer.” Fingers trace down Kyungsoo’s arm until they’re holding hands. “But what about you? Why?”
Kyungsoo shifts his eyes downward and away from Jongin’s prying ones. Why indeed. His beer-soaked thoughts had made sense. Jongin makes sense. He plays with their hands as he looks up in determination. “I want to try. I like you too, Jongin.”
It means he likes Jongin enough to jump that metaphorical cliff. He likes Jongin enough to believe that maybe they could make it work. He likes Jongin enough to know they really are worth it. He’s sure Jongin knows what he means. There’s a gleam in those eyes that seem to try to know his every thought.
“May I kiss you?” Jongin lets out a small laugh at the raised eyebrows and wide eyes that he gets. “Just making sure I have your permission this time or else you might throw me out the window.”
Mortification brings color on Kyungsoo’s cheeks before it brings the sadness in his eyes and the frown on his lips. Jongin may be teasing about it now but he’s sure that the other had been quite hurt that time. Even he had been and he was the one who rejected the kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“Well,” Jongin drawls before grinning. “How about you kiss me as an apology?”
Kyungsoo smiles at the suggestion. Jongin had always been easy to please and placate. He laughs quietly when he sees the closed eyes and pursed lips. What an oversized child he’s gotten himself. He shifts closer, moving so that both of his hands are on Jongin’s cheeks. Instead of a kiss, he pinches and pulls at those cheeks earning him an indignant cry of pain. This time, his laughter resounds within the entire room as Jongin pouts.
“That is not an apology. I take it back! You’re not forgiven.”
“Oh I’ll make it up to you.” Kyungsoo places kisses all over Jongin’s face before kissing him on the lips, pulling the other closer to him. It’s a long and languid kiss perfect for a lazy morning. And perfect for a reconciliation. When they eventually stop, Kyungsoo makes a face. “Okay. For future reference, no kissing until we’ve brushed our teeth. That was as awful as it was satisfying.”
“Agreed.”
They look at each other and laugh. How utterly silly they feel. They’re smiling and somehow, right then, everything is different. Maybe it’s a trick of the morning light flickering down upon them. But there’s life shining in both their eyes. In an instant, they seem like different people. Better, happier versions of themselves, to be exact. Things seem just a bit brighter, just a bit more colorful, and just a bit lighter. They pay no heed to the problems waiting for them. They’ll handle it all in due time. Later. For now, the bed is calling for some cuddling.
“Wait.” Kyungsoo moves away and sits up. There’s the uncomfortable feeling of dried sweat on his skin. “I need a shower.”
A sigh of relief leaves Jongin’s lips before he sits up as well. He wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and places his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. To which the other gripes at. “Let’s shower together.”
Kyungsoo turns to face Jongin, an eyebrow raised. Jongin shrugs with an off-handed comment about seeing everything already and promising not to do anything drastic. Kyungsoo complies and they’re both off to the bathroom. It all starts innocent with actual bathing. One thing leads to another and then they’re kissing heatedly under the steady pouring water. Hands get involved with excited lower body parts. Kyungsoo’s defense? Jongin had been the only one to promise not to do anything. He’s free to give Jongin a little something. They get out eventually and lay comfortably on Jongin’s bed for a long while before Junmyeon comes knocking in, saying something about having breakfast together with everyone.
I was made to keep your body warm
But I’m cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms
Snow falls precariously and piles up on the streets. Umbrellas of various colors pass by with people huddled underneath them. Despite the sullenness of winter, Seoul is buzzing with bright lights and loud sounds. Christmas songs all play on top of each other. Families and couples are all out and about, enjoying the holiday. The warm air of the coffee shop fogs up Jongin’s view of everyone outside. He draws a smiley with his finger, glancing at his sister who shakes her head, smiling, and returns to the customers. Well, she did name the place after him so he’s allowed to fool around, right?
“Here. Distract yourself with this.” She hands him an eggnog later on. He gladly takes it and hums in appreciation as the warm drink goes down his throat.
“Thanks, noona.” He smiles at her. She looks around before taking the seat across him. The staff can handle things for now. “I thought people would spend Christmas at home but it’s like everyone is out.”
“Good thing I opened even if it’s for half a day.” She eases back onto the chair. “So, what time are you supposed to be back there?”
“Kyungsoo-hyung will pick me up in a few with our manager.” He attempts to cover the glee on his face at the thought of Kyungsoo by drinking up the eggnog. But nothing ever escapes his sister. She’s silent as she studies him. He almost finishes the drink in nervousness. She smiles though.
“I see. Well at least that company of yours let you spend Christmas Eve with us. Mom and Dad were really happy.” Her smile turns wicked. A finger taps thoughtfully at her chin. “Although, I do wonder who you were talking to last night on the phone. Seemed pretty intimate. You even went outside.”
Jongin sputters in embarrassment. He definitely will not tell her it had been Kyungsoo and how that particular conversation had almost turned into phone sex. They’ve accepted the fact that they’ve been immensely pent up all this time. However, the actual thing hasn’t happened just yet. They’re enjoying what they have at the moment, continually teasing each other. He snaps out of his thoughts before whining at his sister. “Noona.”
She laughs at the redness of his cheeks before putting her hands up in surrender. “It’s a secret. Fine, fine. Just trying to be a responsible older sister and meddle in your love life.”
The door opens and Jongin thanks the heavens because it’s Kyungsoo all bundled up and looking distractingly cute. It’s weird how it feels as if it’s been a long time since they’ve seen each other when it has only been a day. He guesses he’s become accustomed to their apartment set-up, always seeing each other first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Kyungsoo’s eyes wander over the customers before spotting Jongin and his sister. He politely greets back those who talk to him as he makes his way over. He smiles widely, lips pulled into that famous heart-shaped smile.
“Merry Christmas, Jongin. Merry Christmas, noona.” He bows politely at Jongin’s sister who returns the greeting. She stands up and offers him her seat. His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head. “No. Please sit back down. I can get another chair.”
“Kyungsoo, there are customers waiting for me. It’s fine. You two wait here for a while. I’ll pack some muffins for you and the other members.” She leaves before any protest could be said.
Kyungsoo sits down, a bit uneasy. It’s the first time they’re alone outside since they’ve become lovers. There are eyes watching them too. Times like this make him wonder if they could ever get rid of the unwanted attention. It’s Christmas, he laments. There are more important things to do than to stare and scrutinize two idols minding their own business. Jongin’s laugh has him looking puzzled. The explanation comes like this, “You looked like you wanted to kill someone.”
Flustered, Kyungsoo looks down at Jongin’s eggnog. It hadn’t been his intention to let his resentment show. When asked if he wanted some of the drink, he refuses the offer. But the cup is shoved at his lips and Jongin’s expression is urging him to taste it. He holds the cup and tilts it up, mouth opening to drink. He nods afterward. “It’s good.”
“It is.” A light conversation ensues, the soft music of Kamong Café playing in the background. Their nervousness under the curious eyes slowly ease away and they become comfortable, laughing quietly and sharing their eventful dinner stories. Jongin’s sister comes back to them with an inquisitive look. She had arrived at a time when they’ve lapsed into silence with the barest hint of smiles on their lips. She hands the box of muffins to Jongin and a takeaway cup of eggnog to Kyungsoo.
“Enjoy the muffins. And don’t forget to eat and rest properly.” She looks at Jongin while saying this and then at Kyungsoo for him to know that the reminder goes to him as well. “Is your manager here?”
“Thank you. He’s waiting outside.” Kyungsoo smiles and bows in gratitude. And then looks apologetic. “We have to go now.”
“Okay. Please take care of my clumsy brother.” She ruffles Jongin’s hair fondly causing him to complain. She rolls her eyes before grinning. “And you, Jongin, be good. Call our parents later.”
They say their farewells and exit the establishment. The van is right there waiting for them and they’re whisked away quickly before anything happens. As the van passes by buildings and houses, Jongin lays his head on Kyungsoo’s lap, closing his eyes and enjoying the fingers that soon card through his hair. He takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing each finger discreetly. Jongin murmurs a “Merry Christmas”. Kyungsoo squeezes Jongin’s hand in reply. Their first time out in public went rather well despite its short duration with practice still waiting for them.
Kiss me like you wanna be loved
“You can open your eyes now.”
The bright flame of candles is startling against the darkness of the room. Kyungsoo blinks a few times before he could make out a simple chocolate cake with the words “Happy birthday to us!” and Jongin’s expectant smile. It’s the 13th and they had promised they would exchange gifts today. With the constant urges to make a wish and blow the candle together, Kyungsoo closes his eyes once more at the same time that Jongin does. They both wish silently for this happiness to last. The flames are blown and Jongin scrambles to turn on the lights.
“So! Gifts!” The cake is placed on their bedside table, thankfully devoid of anything else. Jongin opens his bag to retrieve a small wrapped up box. He turns around to see Kyungsoo with a gift bag, both of them sitting at the edge of their respective beds. The box is presented with both arms stretched out and Jongin shyly ducking his head a bit. “Here you go, hyung. Happy birthday.”
Kyungsoo takes the box and hands Jongin the bag carefully, worrying just a bit about his gift. He laughs though at the quizzical look on Jongin’s face and the ginger way the other holds his gift. “It’s not going to break. Happy birthday, Jongin.”
They open their presents at the same time. The sounds of ripping paper echoing at 11 in the evening. There are distant noises from the other rooms caused by the members but it’s the thunderous beating of their hearts that fill their ears. Anticipation is high. Kyungsoo opens a velvet box containing a silver band bracelet. His eyes grow wide and he hesitates to touch it. The bracelet is smooth and light. Upon further inspection, an engraving is found on the inside. I love you. Truthfully, Kyungsoo almost drops the box and bracelet from his hands. They’ve never said it. Not yet, at least. But now Jongin has, in a roundabout way. He stares at the person across him.
Jongin, on the other hand, is marveling at the book within the gift bag. It’s the latest book by Higashino Keigo that isn’t even on sale in Korea yet. But it seems like Kyungsoo had gotten hold of a copy before its release. He feels his cheeks hurt from how much he’s grinning. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Surely, Kyungsoo had talked to some people and asked for favors just to get it. His fingers trace the cover in a trance until he feels eyes on him. He looks up to see Kyungsoo on the verge of either crying or cursing. And then he remembers about his gift and he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, eyes darting around everywhere.
“Well, you see…”
The sentence never gets finished because Jongin trails off and Kyungsoo walks the distance between them to tilt Jongin’s face up and kiss him. Jongin only had enough of sense to place his book down before it got squashed between them. The kiss doesn’t last long, not with their awkward position of Kyungsoo bending down too much and Jongin tilting his head up painfully. Kyungsoo puts the bracelet on in front of Jongin and there’s something about it that stirs up their desires. They could feel the burning need to touch each other and take each other’s breath away within an inch of their lives. Kyungsoo looks into Jongin’s eyes.
Jongin finds himself whispering hoarsely, “I locked the door.”
Feet leave the floor as Kyungsoo straddles Jongin’s lap, thighs pressing against Jongin’s waist and knees digging onto the bed. Kyungsoo’s hands grip at soft brown hair, tugging Jongin forward into a heated kiss. There’s a sense of desperation mixed with desire. Their breaths come in short gasps of pleasure as they lick and suck and bite. By the time they pull away from each other, their lips are red and swollen. Kyungsoo leans in to press a quick kiss.
“I love you too. Thank you.”
Jongin smiles. If he could, he would proudly proclaim to everyone that Kyungsoo is his. But he settles for being able to hear Kyungsoo’s own proclamations of love within the four walls of their room. He’ll gladly return each one of them. If Kyungsoo’s thankful to him for his patience, he’s thankful to Kyungsoo for taking his hand. That night had been one of the best in his life. They’re still struggling. Everything’s still a bit new. But they’re approaching everything with a firm determination to stay together. He kisses Kyungsoo on the lips before kissing Kyungsoo’s clothed chest, just above the fast beating heart.
“I’m glad you forgot the cement.”
Title: So tell me the way home
Genre: slight!angst, romance
Rating: PG-13
Length: 8,230 words
Summary: retrouvailles (n.) the joy of meeting or finding someone again after a long separation; rediscovery
Notes: Hello! To coppertears, I hope you don’t mind that I incorporated 3 of your prompts into one fic (Ed Sheeran’s One, induratize, retrouvailles). All of your prompts were lovely and I wish I could have written them all for you. I’m crossing my fingers that you’ll like this anyway. To everyone, I wish the same. Happy 3daysofkaisoo! Also, a quick thank you to the mods for letting me pinch-hit and for organizing this exchange. :)
And I know you’re gonna be away a while
Night has long settled in when the slow creaking of a door echoes in the deserted living room. Soft footsteps make their way in the dark with a tired gait, a slight drag of socked feet across the polished floor. One of the doors is carefully opened to reveal even more inky blackness with just a sliver of light from the curtained windows coming through. The exhausted man makes his way to the unoccupied bed, sitting down and laying his bag on the floor. Oh how he wants to just sleep right then and there. But a shower is in order. Always remove your make-up before bed and apply the necessary moisturizers. Face and skin care is top priority. He heaves a heavy sigh before pushing himself off the bed and going out of the room.
The lights of the bathroom are blinding to his weary eyes. His fingers come up to massage his temples as he tries to adjust to the abrupt brightness. A man, on the verge of collapsing, looks back at him through the mirror when he eventually looks up. Sinking eyes with dark eye bags under them lack the luster they once had. Perfectly shaped lips are a pale shade of sick drawn into a tight line, ends tugging down a bit. The slightest hint of wrinkles appear on his forehead and on the corners of his eyes. His black hair is lackluster and limp, stray strands falling haphazardly over his face. It makes the sickly paleness of his skin stand out even more. He’s tired.
He divests himself of his clothes once he’s had enough of looking, analyzing how much more he can take before collapsing. He can take much more. This is nothing compared to last year. The warm water from the shower head feels soothing against his skin and his body goes lax under it. As much as his body protests against moving though, quickness is necessary if he wants to get about 4 hours of sleep. That’s as long as he can gamble before work tugs him out of bed. Less than 10 minutes later, he’s fully clothed and surrounded by darkness again. There’s only one thing he spreads over his face in practiced motions before allowing himself to succumb to slumber with a last look upon the lump on the bed across him. He gazes at the steady rise and fall of the thin blanket until his eyes close and he remembers nothing but the distinct ache of his worn out limbs.
The jarring sound of his alarm rouses him from sleep. He blinks a few times to clear his blurry vision as a hand blindly reaches for the disturbance. Swiping at the phone’s screen, thankfully, brings back the silence. Eyes take in the room bathed in dim light by the early morning sunshine passing through the curtains. They land once more to that lump on the other bed. How he wishes he could fall back onto his own and sleep just like that, along with another sense of longing. But work is work. Habitually going by all that he needs to do to get ready, morning greets him again. It’s as he eats his bread that a manager unlocks the door and ushers him out with another bread put in his hands. So another tiring day begins as he leaves the still sleeping apartment.
When he’s finally on break, he hides away from the numerous lights and props, staff and cameras. Everyone mills around him, exhaustion clinging onto their backs and barely staved off by their numerous shots of coffee. Water is handed to him and it disappears as he gulps it down a bit greedily. Today is a weirdly bad day. He usually gets along well with his co-workers. Somehow though, things are getting on his nerves and a somberness washes over him all the time. It shouldn’t be that way. He genuinely likes being here and working. And then it comes to him that it must have been a foreboding when he overhears his manager speaking on the phone.
“Have you asked Jongin about the offer from K-Arts?” His manager tries hard to be quiet with other people around but at the same time loud enough for the one on the other end to hear. He’s sure it’s another manager. “It’s gotten the OK from the higher-ups.”
He feels a strong desperation to ask what that offer is, what it entails. A hand on his shoulder takes him away from his thoughts and the make-up artist does a touch up. The feeling of mind-body separation becomes worse and his mood plunges down further. It must be an offer to be a student in their School of Dance. Jongin has always gotten such things and declined them. Right now though. Right now, he might not. He’d probably accept it. He’d probably have a full schedule of practicing and going to class. He’d probably have no more time to wait. But it’s not like Jongin’s been waiting for him. That’s just his wishful thinking. They had gone their separate ways in order to pursue their different career paths all the while doing activities of their group. But that conversation had been awful.
“Kyungsoo-ssi, break time is over.” A staff member leads him back to the set for the filming - a 9 episode crime series. Thoughts of Jongin are tucked carefully away at the back of his mind along with the troubled feelings that come with it, as day turned into night.
Darkness and silence are his unwanted companions when he gets back to the apartment. The same as always when he constantly gets there at ungodly hours with people already fast asleep. Tonight, he doesn’t feel the overwhelming urge to sprawl on the floor and sleep there. No. Socked feet take him hurriedly to a room where a sliver of light underneath the door peaks through. The creaking of the opening door has him flinching in his mind but he presses on to finally see the usual lump on the bed nowhere to be found. Instead, Jongin is sitting against the pillow with sheets of paper in his hands, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. Jongin looks up at him.
“Hyung. Welcome back.” There’s a smile on those lips unlike all the ones previously there. It reminds Kyungsoo of washed away ink on a rained on paper. Blurred and murky patches of something lost. “How was your day?”
“Tiring. I wish I could sleep longer.” Hesitance drags his feet and makes his hands sweat. He eventually makes it to his bed, sitting down to face the other. Is it fine to ask Jongin? Does he still have the right to do so? He wishes he does. “What are those?”
“An invitation letter to K-Arts. They’re inviting me in either their Department of Dance Performance or Department of Choreography. The curriculum for both looks impressive.” Jongin’s eyes shift from Kyungsoo to the papers again, studying them. “Yeah. Definitely impressive.”
“Oh.” What was he supposed to answer to that? What had he replied back then when Jongin had constantly been bombarded with university offers? The memories are slipping like sand as anxiety builds up in him. He looks down at his lap before bringing his head up with a smile etched upon his lips. “That’s good. Maybe you should take the offer.”
“I have. Well, I’ve already decided to say yes but the managers said I should sleep on it and tell them my answer tomorrow. But I’m definitely accepting.”
A boulder lies heavy in Kyungsoo’s stomach as he stares at the determination set upon Jongin’s eyes and stature. Had this been what Jongin felt so long ago when he had been determined to advance in his acting career? It’s confusing to want to see that growth yet hold onto the person. His captive emotions rampaging within his built up walls fall upon deaf ears. How dare he try to persuade Jongin not to when he had went through with his own plans? Plans that involved being away for long periods of time and ending whatever it had been between them while he pursued the heights of achievement.
“I’m glad you will. I think it’ll be really helpful to you.” He relaxes his face enough for his smile not to look strained and twitchy. “Have you decided which department you want to enroll in?”
Lips purse into a thin line as Jongin’s eyes dart between two particular papers, weighing his options. After a moment of silence, he turns his head slightly to look at Kyungsoo. “Choreography, I guess. Their curriculum and course descriptions are interesting. I think I’ll learn a lot.”
“You’ll do well.” Honesty. That’s all there is in those words because Jongin will definitely do well. That’s all he can say, all that he could let himself say.
“Thanks, hyung.” The smile on Jongin’s lips is still murky, somewhat bland despite the sincerity. It’s been this way since that time. Jongin could say the same about Kyungsoo’s smiles though like taffy being pulled apart. A bitter tasting taffy. “You should get ready for bed. You always leave so early in the morning.”
The boulder somehow turns into butterflies filling up Kyungsoo’s stomach. Whenever Jongin alludes to caring about him, it’s a warm coffee going down his throat in the morning. A thick blanket at winter time. A tight embrace of comfort. Tiny seedlings of hope planted. But they never did grow. Before, it had been him nipping them prior to bearing fruit. Now, he finds himself waiting for the rain to nurture them. It never comes though. Jongin is miles and miles away from him. His rain.
“Thank you. You should sleep too.” Hands grip on knees tightly before they push and Kyungsoo stands up with a last smile toward Jongin. He waits for the briefest moment, just until his smile is returned. Then off he goes in a pace a bit quicker than his body has the energy for. Under the shower head, he realizes his relationship with Jongin is just like the tiles he’s standing on. A little warm but significantly colder in reality. That’s how they are now.
When he comes back into their room, Jongin is already fast asleep under the covers with just tufts of hair peeking out from underneath. He joins the other to the land of dreams. Maybe there they’d meet under better circumstances. Maybe there he wouldn’t have had to push away Jongin and his own feelings aside. Maybe there he could be beside Jongin instead of alone on his bed. Nightmares have a strong hold on him though. And early morning greets a drained man staring blankly at the other bed. The late morning greets a forlorn man staring longingly at an empty bed. Jongin is sure Kyungsoo doesn’t realize he’s still waiting hopelessly for the other’s change of mind and a collapse of those built up walls. He’s still waiting for a chance to show Kyungsoo that they could make it work. Jongin is still hoping and dreaming of Kyungsoo, for Kyungsoo, to be with Kyungsoo.
And you know, everything changes but
We’ll be strangers if we see this through
The established routine of waking up and sleeping alone for 2 weeks crumbles into fractured pieces of a hazy reverie. Mornings now greet him with Jongin waking up alongside him, kicking back the blanket and sitting up with barely opened eyes. His alarm is now for both of them, set up to a higher volume. A lopsided smile and variations of “Good morning” bombard his senses. He could only pull enough of his muddled thoughts to greet back and smile tiredly. The bags under his eyes always feel heaviest upon waking and a fleeting thought passes by. He must look so awful in those sleepy eyes trained on him. The blanket over his body seems to call out to hide underneath it. But there’s work waiting and lateness is never an option.
While he heads straight to the bathroom, Jongin stretches and lazily gathers the day’s necessary items. The fogged up mirror is now frequently wiped for Kyungsoo to check his appearance after a warm bath. He looks the same as always. Just slowly appearing more frazzled. With a shake of his head, cold air enters the bathroom and a few droplets of water fall in a certain path leading to a bedroom. Jongin is always sitting on an unfixed bed, towel hanging on the edge. Sometimes, he finds the other holding onto papers or, on the rare occasion, a book. And whenever he enters, Jongin would look up, smile a bit, and head off to shower. He makes it a point to always tuck in and arrange the blankets on both beds properly after putting on clothes. Protests would always accompany the opening of the door. He waves them all off every time. They could be distant but he could still do that much.
Jongin would always stare at Kyungsoo for a while whenever they get into that somewhat, not really, argument of fixing Jongin’s bed. Those eyes that seem to be searching for something, maybe someone, never fail to make Kyungsoo’s palms sweat. Guilt rises to his throat at the scrutiny. The stare never lasts long. Jongin knows Kyungsoo feels uneasy whenever he looks at the other long enough. He could guess from Kyungsoo’s small nervous habit of rubbing fingertips discreetly. Occasionally, the biting of lower or upper lip. By then, Kyungsoo would grab his bag and exit the room with a “See you later” and a smile. Jongin only rarely is ever able to catch Kyungsoo still at the dining table after he prepares for another school day. When he does, he sits across with his own cup of coffee and slice of bread, glancing uncaught at his companion. But Kyungsoo always leaves first, deserting Jongin to the silent apartment.
Night-time varies. Sometimes Jongin arrives early from a day of school and practice. Other times, he stays longer within the practice room of the SM building. He’s the only one with different times of arrival because Kyungsoo always comes through their apartment door well into the night, always around 1 or 2. Instead of the blinding darkness always greeting him home, Kyungsoo now finds light underneath the door to their bedroom whether Jongin is fast asleep or not. Socked feet still drag sluggishly across the floor, probably picking up the gathering dust and dirt. Everyone else is fast asleep. Or at least, that’s what he presumes from the lack of noise from the other rooms. He doesn’t particularly care when all he could think of is sleep and filming. And a stray thought of Jongin or several.
One time, papers are splayed out on Jongin’s bed while the owner is fast asleep when Kyungsoo goes into their room. A simple look at the mess and he sighs loudly. It’s not as if Jongin would wake up from the sound. He gathers up the sheets of paper, not minding if they were in order or not, and places the small pile on the bedside table between their beds. Jongin is half-sitting up and half-falling to the side and Kyungsoo sighs once more. He can do this. They’ve held hands and hugged before, even after the fight. This is different though. Because now, the longing is constantly twirling his heart round and round. Letting it fall to his stomach. Letting it lodge at his throat. It’s been happening ever since he took on this series and Jongin had looked at him a particular way when the announcement came. An unfitting resignation highlighted the marginal happiness coloring the smile he’d been given.
Maybe those vehement promises of waiting had been burned to dust by his own actions and his own words during that disastrous but hushed up fight. Maybe with the same bricks he’d used to erect the walls around him, he had crushed all of Jongin’s resolve. Dispirited all of Jongin’s determination. Nothing before that particular smile had strung at Kyungsoo. But when Jongin had looked at him like that, he had felt as if he has lost something he could never get back. From then on, he’d been constantly plagued by memories and questions. Every night had him facing Jongin before going to sleep, staring and longing. The want swirling into a need to have back the close relationship they had. The close relationship that had almost turned into something more. Almost. He had ended what they should never have, what they are never allowed to have. He had done it twice.
Jongin’s head falls down abruptly, body jerking, but closed eyes don’t open and the steady breathing doesn’t change. Kyungsoo holds onto Jongin’s shoulders as he slowly guides Jongin to lie on the bed properly. The blanket is pulled up to the slight cleft chin and arms are tucked underneath. A hand rests on Jongin’s cheek, thumb rubbing gently, as another grips onto the blanket tightly, just above Jongin’s chest. After a while, he moves away. There’s a pause to stare at the face of the person unaware of the emotions and thoughts that eat him away before he leaves to bathe. Under the running water, he keeps himself in line. He reminds himself the reasons for his decision. He convinces himself of the rightness of his judgment. He stacks up more bricks. More. More.
“Thanks, hyung.” It’s those words that greet him the morning after with the warmest smile on Jongin’s lips he’s received. His mind is suddenly pulled to reality. He bites his lower lip harshly at the onslaught of emotions that drown him. His hands clench into fists, shaking and sweating. His breathing shortens into quick intakes and outtakes. Jongin just continues to smile despite his lack of response. “It’s been more than a month and the work load is getting heavier. But it’s fun. I might fall asleep like that more often. Sorry but please take care of me.”
How cheeky. Kyungsoo bites the insides of his cheeks this time before finally having enough wit to reply. He hashes out all that he’d told himself as he went to sleep and bears his battered armor. It’s heavy, suffocating. A price to be paid for protection. “Jongin, take care of yourself. I’m not your mother and I’m already really tired. I can’t keep doing last night.”
The smile falls and Kyungsoo’s heart falls with it. Jongin had anticipated the reply though. He knows of Kyungsoo’s stubbornness and reluctance. Understands these all too well. It hurts despite the knowledge. He hopes still because he also understands the lingering touch from last night and the gazes he sometimes catches directed at him. He sighs and looks at Kyungsoo’s straight face with a condoling expression. “Until when, hyung?”
Kyungsoo understands the unsaid words, feeling like the child between the two of them with that expression on Jongin’s face. No. He isn’t. He’s the mature one. He’s the one thinking clearly about the future, their future. He pushes down the elation at the thought that Jongin is still waiting, still holding on. Jongin shouldn’t. “Until you understand that it’s never going to happen.”
“And who’ll be happy from all of this? You? Me? No. Everyone else, yes. But not us.” Jongin wonders when Kyungsoo would stop running and just take a risk. The one-sided decision is logical to a point but it’s also the easy way out in his eyes. Ignore their feelings in favor of keeping everything else intact. He knows the consequences. He also knows they could make it work if Kyungsoo could only take his hand. He could see the loneliness clinging onto Kyungsoo because he could feel it himself. “You know you’ll never be content even with all the awards and the trophies.”
No words follow. Kyungsoo glares before quickly gathering all of his things and clothes and fleeing from the room. Calloused hands run harshly through wet hair, tugging insistently. Maybe physical pain could overshadow the wounds in his heart. It’s not the case and he wouldn’t let himself go down that road. He’ll keep it all in. Dismiss everything. He puts on his clothes in the humid bathroom after, not caring for the sticky feeling. He picks up his bag from the floor beside the bathroom door and heads onto the dining table to eat breakfast. He doesn’t acknowledge Jongin walking across the apartment and goes to work without the routine farewell. The apartment that had been slowly warming up suddenly turns hostilely cold and the silence becomes stifling.
All my senses come to life
While I’m stumbling home as drunk as I
Have ever been and I’ll never leave again
Loud chattering falls upon deaf ears. Filming has finally finished after a little more than 3 grueling months of barely gained rest and repeated takes of numerous scenes. Fingers twirl a cold glass of beer, wiping at the condensation on the surface. It’s been about a month since Kyungsoo has once again lay waste upon his relationship with Jongin. They’ve reverted back to the seemingly close but internally distant interactions with customary greetings and obscure smiles. Sometimes a playful conversation to remake a teetering friendship. He wonders if Jongin has finally resigned to their fate like he wanted.
The glass is emptied. Its contents swirling in his stomach. The temperature around him and inside him rises, a balmy feeling. He watches everyone else for a while. They’re all engaged in different conversations and all in different states of inebriation. A few co-actors and actresses coax him into talking and joining but he declines politely. At this point, in his less than appropriate state, he’d rather keep to himself. Thoughts keep passing in and out of his mind that he might unwittingly blurt out things he would like to be unknown. His phone vibrates in the pocket of his jeans and he pulls it out. A message from Junmyeon congratulating him and reminding him to take care. He smiles at the sweet gesture.
Will Jongin send him a message as well? And there goes those kinds of dangerous thoughts, one after another. Unrelenting. He wonders where the bricks he uses are. His walls seem to have disappeared. He stares at the black screen of his phone as Jongin continues to be the center of all that he’s thinking and all that he’s feeling. Everything seems to be at a standstill, frozen in a wretched parody. A sharp-bladed mockery. He could see his distorted reflection on the screen. Fingers peel off the protector in a rush of discordant sentiments.
Screams are ringing in his ears and he wonders if he could really get used to feeling like he’s going to be deaf. It’s what he signed up for so he’ll make do. Besides, it’s very heart-warming as well when they have fans coming to see them perform and cheering them on. He doesn’t want to disappoint them. But right now, his throat feels sore from all the practicing and probably the cold weather. He sighs as the neon lights from the stage flash into their direction. The backstage is mostly unlit and everyone is treading a bit carefully and a bit in a rush. His heart leaps to his throat when cold fingers run up and down his throat. It’s Jongin. He relaxes and lets the other massage his neck.
“Better?”
Eyes look intensely at him as if daring him to lie. It’s not as if he would and Jongin has a knack for being able to read him well so lying is a moot point. He chalks it up to their somewhat similar personalities. He smiles, “A bit. Thanks, Jongin.”
The screen protector is pressed back gently onto the phone, fingers gliding across its surface in calculated motions. After running his fingers back and forth a few times, Kyungsoo stares at the screen again and scrutinizes it. Ah. The protector is a bit tilted. He should straighten it. Just like how he should make things right with Jongin. Right? He needs things to be fine between them. But nothing is ever going to be fine. Not with these feelings they have. Not with this popularity. Not with their ambitions. Not with everybody else breathing down their necks. He rips the protector off his screen again.
A door is closed gently, clicking shut. It’s a far cry from the brewing tension within the room. The hand on the doorknob slowly lets go and Kyungsoo turns around to face Jongin. There’s a stormy expression boding a grim conversation. He schools his own face into a stern expression. They had already started the downhill slide to wreckage when Jongin had kissed him in a vulnerable moment. A moment they had all been having with all the problems that came crashing at them, all that they’ve lost and all that they’re trying to keep intact.
“I’ve told you.” He spits out in a venomous whisper. “I’ve told you we couldn’t. I thought you backed away. Jongin, you know why I said no. We’re not normal people. We’re idols. In Korea. Korea where being in a gay relationship is just saying you want to commit suicide. Double suicide because we’re idols. You know how people are.”
“We could make it work, Kyungsoo. It’s not as if I’m going to kiss you in public. I have common sense. I like you so much. I want to be able to comfort you. Especially now.” Jongin takes a step forward but Kyungsoo’s glare keeps him from going further.
“There’s nothing that can be hidden for long. Nothing. And comfort me? You can comfort me as a friend. Without the whole kissing and romantic relationship. As if that’s actually comforting.”
Jongin glares back at him as if to point out how big of a lie his last words were because the brief press of Jongin’s lips on his while they had been sitting side by side on the bed had actually relieved him, consoled him. For a moment, that is. When his thoughts came back to him, he had shoved Jongin away and quickly stood up to close the door. He feels equally enraptured and outraged. He stacks up his bricks before the memory of the wonderful feeling could cloud his judgment.
“We can never go back to the way we were before. I’m sure you’ve realized that too. Any friendship we pursue from now on - no, ever since you told me we should stay away from each other and follow our own paths - will amount to nothing. We have feelings for each other no simple friend should have. Even if you hide yours in those stupid walls.” This time, the glare does nothing to deter Jongin from closing in on Kyungsoo. The look he gives Kyungsoo has the latter feeling small. “At least I have the courage to accept my own feelings and take a risk.”
Hands push him away from the door, he notes how careful they still were when moving him. And then Jongin leaves him alone in their bedroom to lament over his loss and to construct even more walls. This is already the second conversation they had about this. He’s strong. He will not be deterred by his fatuous emotions. This is for the best.
Fingers hesitate for a long time as they let the protector hover over the screen. There’s a frown on Kyungsoo’s lips because Jongin’s words keep repeating themselves in his mind, louder and louder each time. They’re taunting him of the things he could not do. They’re making him out to be a coward. He’s not a coward. He’s being realistic and setting his priorities straight. He has responsibilities. Jongin has them too. They couldn’t just forgo them to become lovers. His mind couldn’t even fathom the multitude of repercussions that await down that road.
On and off, he messes with his screen protector. Sometimes, repeatedly locking and unlocking the screen. Thoughts drift back and forth. They’re mostly memories of conversations and moments with Jongin. It slowly floods him with yearning and guilt, waves rising and rising until he could barely breathe. There’s truth to those words. He’s a cautious person, always calculating and treading with care. The same could be said for Jongin. But this time, the other had jumped off the figurative cliff after coming to the conclusion that they were worth putting all caution to the wind.
”It’s not as if anything drastic will change between us if we get together. You’ll treat me the same as you always do. I’ll do it too. With the bonus of being able to say I like you and to kiss you. And even more cuddling and hugging.”
The grip on his phone tightens. Where are his bricks? Where are his walls? They’ve all collapsed and he’s left to admit that Jongin had been right all along. They are worth the risk. He could no longer keep up this pseudo-friendship they had. Not when he watches Jongin sleep, wondering if it’s possible that he could keep Jongin like this, with Jongin only loving him even if they’re skirting away from each other. He doesn’t want to wake up and find that Jongin has abandoned hope and moved on from him. So he gets up, bids everyone goodbye, and goes back to the apartment.
Darkness welcomes one. Kyungsoo had shooed away the worried manager with assurances of being able to get into his own room just fine. He isn’t even severely drunk. Just a bit tipsy. And a lot more aware than he usually is. As evidence of supposed sobriety, his shoes are properly placed into the cabinet before he cleans the floor with his socks as his feet slide across it. The light coming from their room is his guide. He muses how it seems like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. Something like salvation. Something like home.
At first, there’s only a tiny crack on the door to allow him to see if Jongin is asleep. He smiles when he sees the curled up lump, hair sticking out and an arm hanging off the edge. Slowly making his way in, he closes the door quietly and sits down beside Jongin’s bed. Eyes stare in a trance at the hand just within reach. He pokes at the fingers, the palm, the back of the hand, the arm, and just about everywhere that is exposed. He traces the lines on Jongin’s palm, amused with the slight twitches he causes. All his actions cease and he looks down somberly at the hand again. There’s no use anymore. He takes it between both his own and presses it upon his cheek as he moves to lay his head on Jongin’s bed.
“I forgot the cement.”
Settle down with me
Cover me up
Cuddle me in
It’s hot. Kyungsoo frowns at being awoken by the sweltering heat. His barely open eyes could only make out that it’s still dark, so very dark that he couldn’t see anything. Sweat trickles down his neck and back. He could even feel it on his arms. The humidity is suffocating him. He groans, struggling to catch a whiff of cold air on his face at the very least. Maybe get out of bed. In the subsequent tussle against his non-physical enemy, he belatedly realizes he’s been under a thick blanket and someone had their arm and leg over him. He curses at the blanket and whoever it is hugging him and preventing him from escaping.
“Hyung.”
The gravelly sound whispers against his skin, breath tickling his perspiring neck. He cringes and moves away despite the growing headache from all of his rough movements. All of a sudden, a chilly breeze greets his upper body and he could breathe well. Long and deep breaths are taken to savor the pleasant feeling of refreshment. He brings a hand up to brush away the damp strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Eyes adjust to the light in the room. It seems to be morning, not as early as he usually wakes up but not late morning either. Maybe it’s 7 or 8 o’clock.
“Better?”
He turns his head to look at whoever idiot thought it a good idea to pull the blanket up over their heads and suffocate them with lack of air. Sleepy eyes look at him with amusement and a smile dances on thick lips. Jongin. Of course. His glare garners laughter that rings in his ears and swims in his mind. And the anger melts away into wonder. He doesn’t know how he ended up in Jongin’s bed. He only remembers sitting beside it and surely not climbing in. His nose wrinkles at Jongin’s morning breath hitting his face.
“Oh sure. Because your stinky breath is so much better than mine.” The grin Jongin has is a challenge. A challenge that Kyungsoo knows he’ll lose because he drank alcohol last night.
They stay quiet for a while, just looking at each other. Maybe trying to engrave in their memories every line and wrinkle on the other’s face. Kyungsoo doesn’t understand the warmth between them. It’s as if the distance has been crossed. Is he just dreaming? Is this all a dream induced by his desire coupled with a few glasses of beer? He must actually be on the floor, passed out, and Jongin is away at university. The comfort in their interaction is so foreign, like a distant memory. Aside from that, sleeping and being beside each other like this hasn’t happened in a very long time, not since he began to pull away from Jongin.
“Why?” Kyungsoo finally manages to ask.
Jongin couldn’t help the smile from breaking out. Kyungsoo had been so caught up in doing the supposed right thing that he failed to realize something. Jongin is always waiting. He never had any intention of giving up. Patience had been hard work. There were frustrating times that led him to grow angry and resentful especially when Kyungsoo had been at the peak of stubbornness. He’s adjusted since then and accommodated Kyungsoo’s need for time and space. It was a sad affair but the other just needed the right nudge. Which apparently had been alcohol. He wonders if he should have gotten Kyungsoo drunk earlier. But all is well. He heard Kyungsoo’s one line last night. After making sure the other is sleeping, he’d gathered Kyungsoo up and pulled the blanket over both of them.
“That’s a silly question, hyung. You know the answer.” Fingers trace down Kyungsoo’s arm until they’re holding hands. “But what about you? Why?”
Kyungsoo shifts his eyes downward and away from Jongin’s prying ones. Why indeed. His beer-soaked thoughts had made sense. Jongin makes sense. He plays with their hands as he looks up in determination. “I want to try. I like you too, Jongin.”
It means he likes Jongin enough to jump that metaphorical cliff. He likes Jongin enough to believe that maybe they could make it work. He likes Jongin enough to know they really are worth it. He’s sure Jongin knows what he means. There’s a gleam in those eyes that seem to try to know his every thought.
“May I kiss you?” Jongin lets out a small laugh at the raised eyebrows and wide eyes that he gets. “Just making sure I have your permission this time or else you might throw me out the window.”
Mortification brings color on Kyungsoo’s cheeks before it brings the sadness in his eyes and the frown on his lips. Jongin may be teasing about it now but he’s sure that the other had been quite hurt that time. Even he had been and he was the one who rejected the kiss. “I’m sorry.”
“Well,” Jongin drawls before grinning. “How about you kiss me as an apology?”
Kyungsoo smiles at the suggestion. Jongin had always been easy to please and placate. He laughs quietly when he sees the closed eyes and pursed lips. What an oversized child he’s gotten himself. He shifts closer, moving so that both of his hands are on Jongin’s cheeks. Instead of a kiss, he pinches and pulls at those cheeks earning him an indignant cry of pain. This time, his laughter resounds within the entire room as Jongin pouts.
“That is not an apology. I take it back! You’re not forgiven.”
“Oh I’ll make it up to you.” Kyungsoo places kisses all over Jongin’s face before kissing him on the lips, pulling the other closer to him. It’s a long and languid kiss perfect for a lazy morning. And perfect for a reconciliation. When they eventually stop, Kyungsoo makes a face. “Okay. For future reference, no kissing until we’ve brushed our teeth. That was as awful as it was satisfying.”
“Agreed.”
They look at each other and laugh. How utterly silly they feel. They’re smiling and somehow, right then, everything is different. Maybe it’s a trick of the morning light flickering down upon them. But there’s life shining in both their eyes. In an instant, they seem like different people. Better, happier versions of themselves, to be exact. Things seem just a bit brighter, just a bit more colorful, and just a bit lighter. They pay no heed to the problems waiting for them. They’ll handle it all in due time. Later. For now, the bed is calling for some cuddling.
“Wait.” Kyungsoo moves away and sits up. There’s the uncomfortable feeling of dried sweat on his skin. “I need a shower.”
A sigh of relief leaves Jongin’s lips before he sits up as well. He wraps his arms around Kyungsoo’s waist and places his chin on Kyungsoo’s shoulder. To which the other gripes at. “Let’s shower together.”
Kyungsoo turns to face Jongin, an eyebrow raised. Jongin shrugs with an off-handed comment about seeing everything already and promising not to do anything drastic. Kyungsoo complies and they’re both off to the bathroom. It all starts innocent with actual bathing. One thing leads to another and then they’re kissing heatedly under the steady pouring water. Hands get involved with excited lower body parts. Kyungsoo’s defense? Jongin had been the only one to promise not to do anything. He’s free to give Jongin a little something. They get out eventually and lay comfortably on Jongin’s bed for a long while before Junmyeon comes knocking in, saying something about having breakfast together with everyone.
I was made to keep your body warm
But I’m cold as the wind blows so hold me in your arms
Snow falls precariously and piles up on the streets. Umbrellas of various colors pass by with people huddled underneath them. Despite the sullenness of winter, Seoul is buzzing with bright lights and loud sounds. Christmas songs all play on top of each other. Families and couples are all out and about, enjoying the holiday. The warm air of the coffee shop fogs up Jongin’s view of everyone outside. He draws a smiley with his finger, glancing at his sister who shakes her head, smiling, and returns to the customers. Well, she did name the place after him so he’s allowed to fool around, right?
“Here. Distract yourself with this.” She hands him an eggnog later on. He gladly takes it and hums in appreciation as the warm drink goes down his throat.
“Thanks, noona.” He smiles at her. She looks around before taking the seat across him. The staff can handle things for now. “I thought people would spend Christmas at home but it’s like everyone is out.”
“Good thing I opened even if it’s for half a day.” She eases back onto the chair. “So, what time are you supposed to be back there?”
“Kyungsoo-hyung will pick me up in a few with our manager.” He attempts to cover the glee on his face at the thought of Kyungsoo by drinking up the eggnog. But nothing ever escapes his sister. She’s silent as she studies him. He almost finishes the drink in nervousness. She smiles though.
“I see. Well at least that company of yours let you spend Christmas Eve with us. Mom and Dad were really happy.” Her smile turns wicked. A finger taps thoughtfully at her chin. “Although, I do wonder who you were talking to last night on the phone. Seemed pretty intimate. You even went outside.”
Jongin sputters in embarrassment. He definitely will not tell her it had been Kyungsoo and how that particular conversation had almost turned into phone sex. They’ve accepted the fact that they’ve been immensely pent up all this time. However, the actual thing hasn’t happened just yet. They’re enjoying what they have at the moment, continually teasing each other. He snaps out of his thoughts before whining at his sister. “Noona.”
She laughs at the redness of his cheeks before putting her hands up in surrender. “It’s a secret. Fine, fine. Just trying to be a responsible older sister and meddle in your love life.”
The door opens and Jongin thanks the heavens because it’s Kyungsoo all bundled up and looking distractingly cute. It’s weird how it feels as if it’s been a long time since they’ve seen each other when it has only been a day. He guesses he’s become accustomed to their apartment set-up, always seeing each other first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Kyungsoo’s eyes wander over the customers before spotting Jongin and his sister. He politely greets back those who talk to him as he makes his way over. He smiles widely, lips pulled into that famous heart-shaped smile.
“Merry Christmas, Jongin. Merry Christmas, noona.” He bows politely at Jongin’s sister who returns the greeting. She stands up and offers him her seat. His eyes grow wide and he shakes his head. “No. Please sit back down. I can get another chair.”
“Kyungsoo, there are customers waiting for me. It’s fine. You two wait here for a while. I’ll pack some muffins for you and the other members.” She leaves before any protest could be said.
Kyungsoo sits down, a bit uneasy. It’s the first time they’re alone outside since they’ve become lovers. There are eyes watching them too. Times like this make him wonder if they could ever get rid of the unwanted attention. It’s Christmas, he laments. There are more important things to do than to stare and scrutinize two idols minding their own business. Jongin’s laugh has him looking puzzled. The explanation comes like this, “You looked like you wanted to kill someone.”
Flustered, Kyungsoo looks down at Jongin’s eggnog. It hadn’t been his intention to let his resentment show. When asked if he wanted some of the drink, he refuses the offer. But the cup is shoved at his lips and Jongin’s expression is urging him to taste it. He holds the cup and tilts it up, mouth opening to drink. He nods afterward. “It’s good.”
“It is.” A light conversation ensues, the soft music of Kamong Café playing in the background. Their nervousness under the curious eyes slowly ease away and they become comfortable, laughing quietly and sharing their eventful dinner stories. Jongin’s sister comes back to them with an inquisitive look. She had arrived at a time when they’ve lapsed into silence with the barest hint of smiles on their lips. She hands the box of muffins to Jongin and a takeaway cup of eggnog to Kyungsoo.
“Enjoy the muffins. And don’t forget to eat and rest properly.” She looks at Jongin while saying this and then at Kyungsoo for him to know that the reminder goes to him as well. “Is your manager here?”
“Thank you. He’s waiting outside.” Kyungsoo smiles and bows in gratitude. And then looks apologetic. “We have to go now.”
“Okay. Please take care of my clumsy brother.” She ruffles Jongin’s hair fondly causing him to complain. She rolls her eyes before grinning. “And you, Jongin, be good. Call our parents later.”
They say their farewells and exit the establishment. The van is right there waiting for them and they’re whisked away quickly before anything happens. As the van passes by buildings and houses, Jongin lays his head on Kyungsoo’s lap, closing his eyes and enjoying the fingers that soon card through his hair. He takes Kyungsoo’s hand in his and brings it to his lips, kissing each finger discreetly. Jongin murmurs a “Merry Christmas”. Kyungsoo squeezes Jongin’s hand in reply. Their first time out in public went rather well despite its short duration with practice still waiting for them.
Kiss me like you wanna be loved
“You can open your eyes now.”
The bright flame of candles is startling against the darkness of the room. Kyungsoo blinks a few times before he could make out a simple chocolate cake with the words “Happy birthday to us!” and Jongin’s expectant smile. It’s the 13th and they had promised they would exchange gifts today. With the constant urges to make a wish and blow the candle together, Kyungsoo closes his eyes once more at the same time that Jongin does. They both wish silently for this happiness to last. The flames are blown and Jongin scrambles to turn on the lights.
“So! Gifts!” The cake is placed on their bedside table, thankfully devoid of anything else. Jongin opens his bag to retrieve a small wrapped up box. He turns around to see Kyungsoo with a gift bag, both of them sitting at the edge of their respective beds. The box is presented with both arms stretched out and Jongin shyly ducking his head a bit. “Here you go, hyung. Happy birthday.”
Kyungsoo takes the box and hands Jongin the bag carefully, worrying just a bit about his gift. He laughs though at the quizzical look on Jongin’s face and the ginger way the other holds his gift. “It’s not going to break. Happy birthday, Jongin.”
They open their presents at the same time. The sounds of ripping paper echoing at 11 in the evening. There are distant noises from the other rooms caused by the members but it’s the thunderous beating of their hearts that fill their ears. Anticipation is high. Kyungsoo opens a velvet box containing a silver band bracelet. His eyes grow wide and he hesitates to touch it. The bracelet is smooth and light. Upon further inspection, an engraving is found on the inside. I love you. Truthfully, Kyungsoo almost drops the box and bracelet from his hands. They’ve never said it. Not yet, at least. But now Jongin has, in a roundabout way. He stares at the person across him.
Jongin, on the other hand, is marveling at the book within the gift bag. It’s the latest book by Higashino Keigo that isn’t even on sale in Korea yet. But it seems like Kyungsoo had gotten hold of a copy before its release. He feels his cheeks hurt from how much he’s grinning. He couldn’t take his eyes off of it. Surely, Kyungsoo had talked to some people and asked for favors just to get it. His fingers trace the cover in a trance until he feels eyes on him. He looks up to see Kyungsoo on the verge of either crying or cursing. And then he remembers about his gift and he scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, eyes darting around everywhere.
“Well, you see…”
The sentence never gets finished because Jongin trails off and Kyungsoo walks the distance between them to tilt Jongin’s face up and kiss him. Jongin only had enough of sense to place his book down before it got squashed between them. The kiss doesn’t last long, not with their awkward position of Kyungsoo bending down too much and Jongin tilting his head up painfully. Kyungsoo puts the bracelet on in front of Jongin and there’s something about it that stirs up their desires. They could feel the burning need to touch each other and take each other’s breath away within an inch of their lives. Kyungsoo looks into Jongin’s eyes.
Jongin finds himself whispering hoarsely, “I locked the door.”
Feet leave the floor as Kyungsoo straddles Jongin’s lap, thighs pressing against Jongin’s waist and knees digging onto the bed. Kyungsoo’s hands grip at soft brown hair, tugging Jongin forward into a heated kiss. There’s a sense of desperation mixed with desire. Their breaths come in short gasps of pleasure as they lick and suck and bite. By the time they pull away from each other, their lips are red and swollen. Kyungsoo leans in to press a quick kiss.
“I love you too. Thank you.”
Jongin smiles. If he could, he would proudly proclaim to everyone that Kyungsoo is his. But he settles for being able to hear Kyungsoo’s own proclamations of love within the four walls of their room. He’ll gladly return each one of them. If Kyungsoo’s thankful to him for his patience, he’s thankful to Kyungsoo for taking his hand. That night had been one of the best in his life. They’re still struggling. Everything’s still a bit new. But they’re approaching everything with a firm determination to stay together. He kisses Kyungsoo on the lips before kissing Kyungsoo’s clothed chest, just above the fast beating heart.
“I’m glad you forgot the cement.”