Chapter Text
The days that followed were actually very ordinary.
Nothing earth-shattering happened. No compensatory grand gestures. Just suddenly there was an extra person living there, an extra pair of shoes at the entrance, an extra cup on the table.
Cha Junhwan’s biological clock had been drilled into him through training. At a little past six, the alarm went off. No matter how late he’d gone to bed the night before, his eyes opened on their own.
Groggily he propped himself up. His hair was a messy mess sticking up everywhere. The collar of his sleep shirt had slipped to one side, exposing the hickey on his collarbone.
He reached mechanically for his phone. Before he could even get out of bed, a pair of warm arms wrapped around him from behind.
Conrad pressed his entire body against him. His chin rested on the back of Jun’s neck.
The tip of his nose rubbed against that patch of skin. His breathing was heavy and hot, carrying a bit of sleepy, domineering roughness.
He tightened his arms and pulled Jun fully into his embrace. His chest was flush against Jun’s back.
Through the thin sleep shirt, Jun could feel Conrad’s morning hardness pressing right below his waist dip. It was hot and completely unhidden through the fabric.
Conrad’s voice was extremely hoarse: “What time is it?”
Jun patted the back of his hand. “Six. I have to go to training.”
Conrad didn’t let go. Instead he buried his face deeper into the crook of Jun’s neck.
His lips brushed lightly against the skin, then opened his mouth to take a soft bite, not too hard, not too light.
His tongue swept over it and left a wet, warm trace. “Five more minutes.”
Jun shivered all over. His waist instantly went soft. He let out a low gasp and subconsciously grabbed the arm wrapped around his waist. His fingertips turned white.
“You said the same thing yesterday.” He tried to push Conrad’s hand away a little, but it didn’t budge. “
And then it turned into twenty minutes.”
“This time it’s really just five minutes.” Conrad leaned down.
His forehead pressed against Jun’s.
His nose brushed nose. Hot breath sprayed directly onto Jun’s lips. “Just hugging. Nothing else.”
Before Jun could protest, Conrad lowered his head and kissed him. His tongue pried open Jun’s lips without hesitation and dove in deep.
It wrapped around Jun’s tongue and sucked slowly but forcefully, like he was gradually stealing away Jun’s morning clarity.
Jun’s breathing went completely haywire. His hands loosely rested on Conrad’s shoulders. His fingertips unconsciously clutched the fabric of his sleep shirt.
Soft, muffled whimpers escaped his throat, sweet and hoarse.
Conrad ignored it and moved the kiss downward.
His teeth gently nipped at Jun’s neck, then trailed down to his collarbone and sucked hard enough to leave another red mark.
Jun’s breathing was thoroughly messed up. His chest heaved violently. His fingers twisted the bedsheets until his knuckles turned white.
In the end, it was Conrad who stopped first. He panted heavily.
His forehead rested on Jun’s shoulder. His voice was wrecked: “Go. If you don’t leave now, I really won’t let you go.”
Jun’s face flushed. He struggled free from his arms. His legs were still a little weak.
By the time he finally escaped the bed, Conrad had already closed his eyes again. His face turned inward.
He pulled the blanket up to his chin like a shameless big dog claiming two-thirds of the bed, zero guilt.
Jun stood by the bed looking at him, sighed, and eventually bent down to tuck in the corner of the blanket anyway.
Sometimes Conrad would come watch training. He didn’t get on the ice. He just stood by the rink-side railing with his hands in his pockets and quietly watched.
After Jun finished a section of his program, he did a curve, turned his head, and there he was.
Their eyes met. Conrad didn’t move. He just gave a small nod. Jun couldn’t help but smile right there on the spot. Even his skate blade caught for a second.
The coach frowned. “Junhwan-ah, focus.”
“Yes.” Jun pulled his gaze back. His face became serious again. “Sorry.” But that smile took forever to fade.
Sometimes when he couldn’t sleep, Cha Junhwan would open his laptop to watch competition footage. That day he was staring at the screen when he suddenly felt arms wrap around his shoulders from behind. A chin rested on his shoulder.
“Watching it again.”
“Mm.” Jun didn’t turn his head. He just glanced at the screen. “In this jump, the landing was a bit off. I want to figure out if it was the takeoff or something in the air.”
Conrad watched the screen with him for a while.
“Takeoff,” he said. “You hesitated.”
Jun paused, rewound two seconds, and watched again. “Yeah.”
He paused the video, slowly leaned back into Conrad’s chest, back pressing against him, and let out a breath.
“You skate really well,” Conrad said.
Jun didn’t speak. After a moment of silence,
“I know,” he said.
One day, after training, Jun came home. The moment he stepped through the door, before he could even take off his shoes, he was hugged from behind. No words. Just holding.
Jun shifted the strap of his bag down and waited.
After a while, Conrad finally spoke. His voice was very low:
“Junni.”
“Mm?”
“Shouldn’t we have done this a long time ago?”
Jun stood in the entryway, thought for a second, a little shy but unable to hide his smile: “Yeah.”
He patted the hand Conrad had around his waist. His tone carried a hint of teasing.
“Wasted so many years because of two cowards.”
That night, after his shower, Jun came out with wet hair. He wore an oversized T-shirt with a loose collar.
His whole body carried the warmth of the bathroom, soft and lazy. He was toweling his hair half-heartedly as he walked into the living room.
Conrad was sitting on the sofa. His laptop was open. He was looking at some files.
Hearing the noise, he looked up. Then he froze.
Jun frowned under his gaze: “What are you looking at.”
Conrad didn’t speak. He slowly closed the laptop, set it aside, and stood up.
Jun’s instincts screamed alarm at that moment. “Conrad.”
“Mm?” Conrad was already walking over, not fast. They had all the time in the world.
Jun instinctively took a step back. “That look in your eyes,” he said. “It’s weird.”
Conrad stopped in front of him and looked down. The corner of his mouth curved slightly. He said nothing.
“What do you want to do?”
“Nothing.”
He said those two words, then reached out and pulled Jun closer in one tug.
Jun: “Wait-”
The next second, Conrad leaned down and kissed the corner of his mouth. Jun froze for a whole second. “Conrad!”
“Mm?” Conrad still hadn’t let go.
“You…” Jun pushed him once and turned his face slightly away. But his ears were already turning red uncontrollably. “Don’t keep doing this!”
“Keep doing?” Conrad raised an eyebrow slightly, as if hearing this for the first time. “Do I?”
“These past few days,” Jun pointed at him, “every single day……”
He stopped. He couldn’t go on.
Conrad blinked, then broke into a brilliant smile: “So you’ve been keeping count?”
“I haven’t!” Jun’s ears turned even redder. “Who cares!”
“If you weren’t counting, how would you know it’s every day?”
“!”
Jun reached out to push him again but failed. His wrist got caught instead. Conrad tugged him one step closer and leaned down again.
Jun immediately slapped his other hand over Conrad’s face, shoving that unfairly handsome face away. “Stop! That’s enough for today!”
“Enough?” Conrad’s voice came muffled through his palm. “Doesn’t count the one before we left this morning, or the one outside the rink when you initiated…”
“I tripped!!”
“Still counts.”
“Does not!!”
They stared at each other for two seconds. Conrad gently pried Jun’s hand off his face a little, leaned in, and planted a quick kiss on his forehead.
Jun: “!”
He jumped back a step. His face was fully on fire. His eyes went wide: “Conrad!”
Conrad finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and laughed out loud, genuine, unrestrained laughter after being suppressed for so long. It made Jun so mad his teeth itched.
“Okay, okay, okay.” He raised his hands. “Last one for today. Done.”
Jun eyed him suspiciously. “Really?”
“Really.”
“…” Jun narrowed his eyes and stared for several seconds. “Swear.”
“Swear.” Conrad nodded. His expression was perfectly sincere. “Last one today.”
Jun slowly lowered his guard, slung the towel over his shoulder, turned to walk away, and muttered, “If you do it again next time I’ll…”
“The bedtime one doesn’t count toward today.”
Jun froze. He slowly turned around.
“What did you say???”
Conrad repeated it with utmost seriousness: “I said, the bedtime one belongs to tomorrow. Doesn’t count for today.”
Jun took a deep breath looking at him: “Get lost.”
“Okay, going now.”
Conrad turned toward the bedroom, took two steps, looked back with that same smile still hanging on his lips. “Junni, come to bed soon. You have to get up at seven tomorrow.”
Jun stood in the living room, too angry to speak for a long moment.
Then he slowly lowered his head, covered his face, and let out a muffled laugh.
“Unreasonable.”