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Long distance relationships aren't a problem for Ten, really.
It's not like he craves constant physical touch, warm hugs, cold kisses from lips that have been outside for way too long. It's not like Ten breathes Johnny in and fills his lungs with his entire being, replacing oxygen, replacing any basic necessities. So, truly, a long distance doesn't bother him.
(It does, it really does).
There's dreamland, too. Where Ten can bask in all of Johnny for a nearly unlimited amount of of time, revel in his touch, his voice. It's close to reality.
(No, Ten thinks, once you get the real thing it's not).
Still, as unsatisfied as he is, he remains quiet. Moments like these, with Johnny lying by his side in the flesh, skin irradiating a comforting heat, are not worth of missing—considering they only happen once in a lifetime, almost literally. Ten stares at Johnny's closed eyes, long eyelashes, colored cheeks, and wonders when did he get so lucky. Wonders if after it's over, after reality falls down onto them crushingly, he'd be able to survive only seeing him in dreams.
(Ten reflects on the times where he was so convinced dreams were the best he could ask for, unaware of reality, of Johnny's real-life addicting aura).
“Stop thinking,” Johnny's eyes remain closed as he speaks, “even I can feel it.”
“Does being a dream analyst give you psychic powers?”
“I wish.”
Ten smiles, lips curving with the purest form of affection. Johnny mirrors him—and his eyes glow.
“Do you wanna go for a walk, or…?”
“I wanna stay here with you forever.”
Exactly what goes through his mind right that second is what comes out of his mouth, no filter, just the plain truth. Ten’s been waiting for literal years for this moment and he wouldn't trade it for anything—the weight of Johnny against him, like an anchor back to reality, his arm around his waist, existent, authentic, not a figment of his imagination or his dreams. It's a sensation that goes beyond what one could comprehend.
(What dreams can imitate, what Johnny can analyze).
“Okay,” Johnny looks up at him, “I can do that.”
-
Ten wakes up in the middle of the night with a pressure on his chest and a droplet of sweat dribbling down his spine.
Side-eyeing the device, light bright red as Ten is awake and aware, he gets up and heads to the bathroom.
Johnny's new childhood home maintains some of its dream aspects, even though his parents bought a new house, the essence is there. In the pictures hanging by the walls, of a probably eleven-year-old Johnny smiling, of the whole family posing in front or their old house, of the one where Ten is in the background with his mom—and the infamous house just stands as glorious as ever. Yet it all brings a sense of comfort, of reality.
He looks down at his hands, his five fingers, and his lips tug at the corners.
Staying forever in real life, with Johnny, Ten wishes now.
-
Unknowingly, he falls asleep at some point, not meaning to.
And of course, Johnny takes advantage of that, probably having woken up before him and seeing a dazzling green light illuminating the room. Ten opens his eyes slowly, eyelids fluttering, as a slight breeze brushes his fringe away from his face, and an endless beach presents itself in front of him—as usual. Johnny is right beside him.
“Leave my dreams alone,” Ten grumbles, “you should've woken me up.”
“It's nice to be here sometimes.”
The sea, navy blue and calm, moves in waves towards the shore, bathing their feets in crystalline water. It's calm, it's nice. But it's not what Ten wants.
“Now that I have you back there's nothing nicer than that,” determined, Ten says. Johnny gapes at him and lets the sand be washed away along with every single regret.
“I know,” he then rotates towards Ten, knees digging into the ground, “that's why you're coming to Chicago with me.”
Ten simply wakes up.
-
It wasn't just a dream, as Ten had feared.
Johnny's proposition is very real, as he echoes during breakfast, and repeats as they kiss lazily in bed. It's genuine as he tells his mom, as they take a plane, as Ten heart shakes similar to his hands once they land.
Not only it's a new place, an entire different continent, but it's real . And Ten would stay forever.
“This is Jaehyun,” Johnny introduces Ten to the disconcerted but happy boy standing at the door. It feels domestic. “He's the roommate I told you about.”
“Hey,” his hand is stretched out but his gaze stays on Johnny. “What did you tell him?”
“Nothing at all.”
It's easy to get used to, accustomed. Johnny's shared apartment is cozy, Jaehyun is nice, and the stories told through a glass of wine make Ten’s entire stay better.
(“I heard you guys having sex, but like, in dreams,” he recalls, “it was disturbing.”
“Shut up.”)
Then, as the settle in bed, Ten’s face squished against Johnny's chest, and their hands joined on top of his stomach, a loud, crashing sound coming from the kitchen startles them. Disrupts their inner and outer peace that was so hard to achieve. So it's Johnny who frowns first and curses under his breath, making a beeline for the source of the unknown noise. Ten takes a few seconds to muffle a grin and follows suitly.
As he peeps out from behind Johnny's shoulder, who's leaning against the frame of the door, Ten's eyes find a wide-eyed blonde boy staring back at them.
“Hey,” he says, “I'm Sicheng.”
Sicheng is a funny, sarcastic but lovely person. The kind that makes Ten feel at home (since he first got a hold of Johnny's hand he's felt at home, but Chicago now is only made of good memories), and they get along rather quickly. When Sicheng blames the whole issue on Jaehyun, and Jaehyun just follows along because he's weak, when he starts telling embarrassing anecdotes about Johnny too. Overall, Ten gains some sort of liking, favoritism, for him.
And it's real.
“I'm a tech guy, I knew exactly why he kept that device for longer than he should have,” Johnny blushes as Sicheng accuses. It all feels domestic.
“And you scored a boyfriend because of it,” Jaehyun counters, though he quickly gulps as Sichen raises one eyebrow at him.
“Since it's still repaying, I can easily break up with you.”
Johnny's bed is more comfortable than the one in Korea, definitely. And this time Ten makes sure to fall asleep after Johnny's passed out just in case (just in case he was confused all along, just in case it's a dream all over again). He stares at the device far away in the corner of the room, discarded, almost, and the feeble red back is a just a reminder of the reality he's living in right now.
Two arms wrap around him, warm as always, real, and Ten smiles to himself as he gives in and his eyes close. Dreamland isn't nearly as good as what real life has to offer him, Ten knows.
And a long distance isn't a problem anymore.