Mercury: 3/?
Author's Note: Italicized cause it's a ~flashback~. -_- Again, PATIENCE IS NEEDED WITH MY SLASH!
It was a Saturday. Or was it a Friday? Junho remembers it was the weekend, at least. Music show rehearsals and performances were scheduled throughout the day and they only had a bit of time to break: a nap in the dressing room here, a snack break there. There were moments when you could even sneak in a drink or two. It was one such weekend that Chansung came to him, emitting a mass of emotions all at once. It wasn’t gentle, not that he’d expected gentility, but it was surprising. In fact, it was rather unwelcome in the first few seconds.
Chansung had just been in a practice session with Jinyoung. Junho admired Chansung for making the extra effort to practice, though he could see the toll it was taking. Chansung was admittedly tired of late and looked worn out more often than not. Makeup would need to be reapplied again after this session as well, as the sheen of sweat on his skin was being swiped off continuously. He needed to use the restroom, get more tissue, but he didn’t want to go alone. He was always close with Junho, the other youngest member besides him, so he asked him to accompany him. Restroom, hallway, dressing room, makeup chairs, car ride seating…Chansung had been stuck to Junho like a fly to sugary water that day.
Junho remembers the drinks in the car that weekend. They included a few snagged bottles of soju and some wine. They all needed a breather from their schedules so they began in the car, taking shots from the bottle and singing songs drunkenly. He’d shared his with Chansung. Even in the moments they passed their bottles back and forth, there was an odd look of longing that Chansung gave him, though Junho felt the blunt hit of the alcohol slowing down his alertness. Maybe he was just imagining things. As they arrived home, Junho was stumbling out of the van, Chansung holding up his shoulder and helping him in. Everyone else shuffled off to their respective rooms, leaving Chansung to hold him up, as they were all staggering or half asleep themselves.
“I have to pee. …wait…wait actually, I don’t. But if I do, help me out. …I don’t think I could stand alone.” Chansung let his friend continue to mumble as he helped him in.
“You’re a good friend Chan. A really good friend. I don’t know,” he hiccupped, “if I’ve ever had a friend quite like you. You know? Like…I could tell you anything. I could share everything with you.” He patted Chansung on the chest and huffed out a snicker.
They were falling into Junho’s room, Chansung trying and failing to lay him gently on the bed. Chansung was able to shut the door, but Junho fell unceremoniously on the bed and pulled Chansung down, cuddling up to him like he were a giant teddy bear.
“I love you Chan,” he dazedly said, “I really do…” Junho’s voice trailed off.
Chansung lay there for a moment and let himself be held as Junho’s eyes flitted between slumber and coherency. It was a new feeling, being held like that. It was comfortable and warm, strong arms encasing him. It felt…nice. He couldn’t quite describe it in that moment. Chansung blamed his drunkenness for the stirring in his gut, but another odd feeling took over as he gazed over Junho’s face, eyes now closed from being a weak drunk. He looked at the shape of his nose, something he’d never quite noticed before in their bustles during the day. Chansung chuckled to himself as he looked at it, wondering why he found it so fascinating that day. Then he looked at Junho’s eyes, closed with the slightest smudge of liner on them, before trailing his vision to Junho’s lips. Chansung looked at them, seeing how small but full they were; how pink…lush…
Chansung didn’t feel the first tear come down his cheek. Was that what it was suppose to be like? Being cared for without an agenda, supported without any want? Chansung finally examined how much he loved Junho back, and it scared him. It scared him into thinking that it had the potential to grow into something that could jeopardize the group, his reputation or his career. He’d been thought of as the ladies’ man, but what exactly did that entail? Was his short history of relationships something that defined him? Was it all there was? Another feel and it hit the bed, wetting a spot just beside Junho’s face. Chansung wiped the tears away and cleared his throat, as if what was transgressing in his mind could be flushed out if he cleared any evidence of such thoughts.
Junho heard him and opened his eyes again, looking at Chansung and finally noticing how he was staring at him.
“Chansung?” he asked. He saw the smudges of liner that trailed from Chansung’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
The youngest tentatively brought a hand up to Junho’s face and stroked it lightly, hoping that taking the chance wouldn’t hurt him if Junho truly was the friend he’d thought he’d always been.
“Chansung?” Junho’s voice was extremely quiet now, both confused and curious as to why Chansung was being so tender with him. He didn’t wait long to find out as Chansung pulled in and kissed him.
Junho didn’t push into the kiss, but he didn’t back down. He let Chansung pull away first, whose heart was dangling on a string and waiting to see if Junho would cut its last tether. When Junho smiled though, head heavy as he tried to sober up, Chansung felt that string entwine itself into something stronger, even if just for a moment. Junho closed his eyes and stayed asleep, giving Chansung at least a bit of relief from any drama if he’d stayed awake or tried to say anything. Chansung stayed quiet and watched him again until slumber overtook him. He eventually woke, not use to Junho’s bed, and shifted in the night so that he could leave and find his own.
Hands clutched Chansung the slightest bit when he tried to go.
---
Wooyoung still wasn’t use to their newest sleeping and living arrangements at the time, and continued to settle on the floor in the living room. He heard footsteps in the night and opened his eyes slightly to see Chansung’s silhouette slide down with some blankets on the couch near him. He knew Junho passed out quickly when he was that drunk, so he wondered what had taken him so long to go to sleep.
He wondered, but he tossed the idea like pieces of lint from his pocket…and went back to sleep.
It was a Saturday. Or was it a Friday? Junho remembers it was the weekend, at least. Music show rehearsals and performances were scheduled throughout the day and they only had a bit of time to break: a nap in the dressing room here, a snack break there. There were moments when you could even sneak in a drink or two. It was one such weekend that Chansung came to him, emitting a mass of emotions all at once. It wasn’t gentle, not that he’d expected gentility, but it was surprising. In fact, it was rather unwelcome in the first few seconds.
Chansung had just been in a practice session with Jinyoung. Junho admired Chansung for making the extra effort to practice, though he could see the toll it was taking. Chansung was admittedly tired of late and looked worn out more often than not. Makeup would need to be reapplied again after this session as well, as the sheen of sweat on his skin was being swiped off continuously. He needed to use the restroom, get more tissue, but he didn’t want to go alone. He was always close with Junho, the other youngest member besides him, so he asked him to accompany him. Restroom, hallway, dressing room, makeup chairs, car ride seating…Chansung had been stuck to Junho like a fly to sugary water that day.
Junho remembers the drinks in the car that weekend. They included a few snagged bottles of soju and some wine. They all needed a breather from their schedules so they began in the car, taking shots from the bottle and singing songs drunkenly. He’d shared his with Chansung. Even in the moments they passed their bottles back and forth, there was an odd look of longing that Chansung gave him, though Junho felt the blunt hit of the alcohol slowing down his alertness. Maybe he was just imagining things. As they arrived home, Junho was stumbling out of the van, Chansung holding up his shoulder and helping him in. Everyone else shuffled off to their respective rooms, leaving Chansung to hold him up, as they were all staggering or half asleep themselves.
“I have to pee. …wait…wait actually, I don’t. But if I do, help me out. …I don’t think I could stand alone.” Chansung let his friend continue to mumble as he helped him in.
“You’re a good friend Chan. A really good friend. I don’t know,” he hiccupped, “if I’ve ever had a friend quite like you. You know? Like…I could tell you anything. I could share everything with you.” He patted Chansung on the chest and huffed out a snicker.
They were falling into Junho’s room, Chansung trying and failing to lay him gently on the bed. Chansung was able to shut the door, but Junho fell unceremoniously on the bed and pulled Chansung down, cuddling up to him like he were a giant teddy bear.
“I love you Chan,” he dazedly said, “I really do…” Junho’s voice trailed off.
Chansung lay there for a moment and let himself be held as Junho’s eyes flitted between slumber and coherency. It was a new feeling, being held like that. It was comfortable and warm, strong arms encasing him. It felt…nice. He couldn’t quite describe it in that moment. Chansung blamed his drunkenness for the stirring in his gut, but another odd feeling took over as he gazed over Junho’s face, eyes now closed from being a weak drunk. He looked at the shape of his nose, something he’d never quite noticed before in their bustles during the day. Chansung chuckled to himself as he looked at it, wondering why he found it so fascinating that day. Then he looked at Junho’s eyes, closed with the slightest smudge of liner on them, before trailing his vision to Junho’s lips. Chansung looked at them, seeing how small but full they were; how pink…lush…
Chansung didn’t feel the first tear come down his cheek. Was that what it was suppose to be like? Being cared for without an agenda, supported without any want? Chansung finally examined how much he loved Junho back, and it scared him. It scared him into thinking that it had the potential to grow into something that could jeopardize the group, his reputation or his career. He’d been thought of as the ladies’ man, but what exactly did that entail? Was his short history of relationships something that defined him? Was it all there was? Another feel and it hit the bed, wetting a spot just beside Junho’s face. Chansung wiped the tears away and cleared his throat, as if what was transgressing in his mind could be flushed out if he cleared any evidence of such thoughts.
Junho heard him and opened his eyes again, looking at Chansung and finally noticing how he was staring at him.
“Chansung?” he asked. He saw the smudges of liner that trailed from Chansung’s eyes. “What’s wrong?”
The youngest tentatively brought a hand up to Junho’s face and stroked it lightly, hoping that taking the chance wouldn’t hurt him if Junho truly was the friend he’d thought he’d always been.
“Chansung?” Junho’s voice was extremely quiet now, both confused and curious as to why Chansung was being so tender with him. He didn’t wait long to find out as Chansung pulled in and kissed him.
Junho didn’t push into the kiss, but he didn’t back down. He let Chansung pull away first, whose heart was dangling on a string and waiting to see if Junho would cut its last tether. When Junho smiled though, head heavy as he tried to sober up, Chansung felt that string entwine itself into something stronger, even if just for a moment. Junho closed his eyes and stayed asleep, giving Chansung at least a bit of relief from any drama if he’d stayed awake or tried to say anything. Chansung stayed quiet and watched him again until slumber overtook him. He eventually woke, not use to Junho’s bed, and shifted in the night so that he could leave and find his own.
Hands clutched Chansung the slightest bit when he tried to go.
---
Wooyoung still wasn’t use to their newest sleeping and living arrangements at the time, and continued to settle on the floor in the living room. He heard footsteps in the night and opened his eyes slightly to see Chansung’s silhouette slide down with some blankets on the couch near him. He knew Junho passed out quickly when he was that drunk, so he wondered what had taken him so long to go to sleep.
He wondered, but he tossed the idea like pieces of lint from his pocket…and went back to sleep.