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THEY WERE STILL kids when Changbin realized it, watching Hyunjin dangle with his hands wrapped around a tree branch, feet hanging two meters above the ground. They must have been preteens, twelve or thirteen, and Hyunjin’s shirt had ridden up a little where he stretched his torso; it was so warm that day, too, the sun hit his face and made it glow like honey. Changbin always thought his best friend was pretty. He didn’t realize finding him pretty meant anything more than just that, until then.
He had said, “Come down, you’re gonna get blisters on your hands,” and Hyunjin grinned down at him. “I can see up your shirt,” he said, then, like that would convince him to hop down.
“So? I’m not hiding anything.”
“ Hyunjin .”
“What?”
“It’s hot, I wanna go inside.”
“Climb up with me, it’s shady here.”
And Changbin had grumbled, the way he always did when he knew Hyunjin was about to get his way, but he wasn’t annoyed, not really - he stood up from his spot in the grass and brushed the back of his shorts, squinting up at his friend, past the sunlight. Hyunjin was still struggling to pull himself up and over the branch, but he eventually made it - other boys would compete to see who was stronger at their age, who could carry more weight, but Changbin was most content just watching Hyunjin’s arms work themselves out.
Once he was sitting comfortably, legs swinging idly on each side of the branch, Hyunjin stretched out his arm to help Changbin.
“I can do it myself,” he grunted, starting to dig his foot into the side of the trunk, even though he knew it was a lie. “Can that thing even hold the two of us?”
“Sure it can,” Hyunjin assured him, still holding out his arm. Eventually, Changbin gave up and grabbed on to the boy’s hand. The skin of his palm was rough and calloused from too many afternoons spent like this, but his grip was strong, and he managed to hoist Changbin up with some effort. Once he was up, he heaved a sigh and looked down at the grass, avoiding Hyunjin’s gaze because he could feel it on him.
“What’re you staring at?”
“You,” Hyunjin said simply, smiling, and Huh, Changbin thought. My stomach feels weird .
He said, “Okay,” because he didn’t know what else to say. Hyunjin shifted so his shoulder pressed against Changbin’s - and Changbin might have been young, but he’s always been shameless and he’s been upfront and honest with himself. He knew it, then. He knew with the warm, sunny afternoon melting into the crook of his neck, the touch of Hyunjin’s hand lingering on his fingers.
+
It’s been a few years, now, and he still knows it, nothing’s changed. Even Hyunjin hasn’t changed, which is a little unfortunate, because he’s always been the straightest boy Changbin knows. It’s warm again like it was then, except now it’s summer instead of spring, and the lot of them are hanging out in Chan’s backyard. Minho’s swaying in a swing chair, bickering with Jisung, Felix is rolling around in the grass playing with Berry, Chan’s dog. Changbin is laying on a picnic blanket with his face towards the sky and his eyes closed, watching those orange spots dance along his lids; he can hear Hyunjin and Jeongin chatting next to him.
“But why not?” Jeongin’s asking him. “I thought you said she’s really pretty?”
“She is ,” says Hyunjin, “but that doesn’t mean I wanna go out with her. God, I felt terrible saying no.”
Chan, always the wise one of the group, tells him, “It’s okay, better that you were honest with her. She would’ve been more upset later if you had just led her on.”
They’re talking about Yeji, the girl down the block. She’s what Changbin imagines the ideal girl-next-door to be like - pretty, sweet, everything nice about summer packed into one person. She asked Hyunjin on a date earlier that day - they had been on their way to Chan’s house, and she stopped him with her hands clasped shyly in front of her. Changbin gave them some space to talk privately, but he could hear most of their conversation. He saw this coming. He was dreading it. And then - he was surprised. He thought Hyunjin liked her, too.
“If you knew you wouldn’t want to date her, why’d you keep flirting?” he asks, eyes still closed. There’s a rustle beside him, and he assumes Hyunjin’s turning to look down at him.
“I didn’t think she’d actually ask me out,” the boy tries to defend himself. “It was - It was supposed to be fun. Jokes, that’s all.”
“Poor girl.”
“I told her I felt sorry, and I really did. I didn’t mean to give her the wrong idea. She was nice about it, thank God.”
“‘Course she was,” comes Jeongin’s voice. “You’re a pisces, who can really stay mad at you?”
“You know I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about when you say stuff like that.” Changbin hears a muffled noise, like someone throwing a hit, and for a second he thinks Hyunjin’s messing with Jeongin until he hears Hyunjin yelp, and he realizes Jeongin was the one who hit him, actually.
“Ow,” Hyunjin whines. “You’re evil.”
“You love me, though.”
“Unfortunately.”
Changbin sighs, breathing in deep the smell of pine and sweet lemonade. Hyunjin nudges him, pats his cheek when he doesn’t respond, and he groans. “What?”
“You’re being quiet. Why?”
“I got nothing to say,” he says, and then, “and I’m tired,” because he knows the first excuse isn’t as believable. He turns his head and opens his eyes to see Hyunjin moving down the blanket, laying down so his head rests next to Changbin’s. Jeongin is still nearby, but not paying them any attention, focused instead on Felix and Berry who have finished playing and are now bathing in the sunlight together. The others seem like they’re a million miles away when Hyunjin looks over at him, smiling. Changbin’s heart just about leaps up to his throat.
When Hyunjin smiles, his already soft features become even softer - his lips are full, shiny, eyes bright and pressed into crescents like the moon; he’s got these dimples that could swallow a person whole, and Changbin’s spent the last five years wanting to fill them with kisses.
He can’t do that, though. He knows this.
It feels like ginger, a love like this - and Changbin’s not sure when his feelings for Hyunjin bled from being a crush into being in love - it’s sweet ginger, bitter and tangy when you bite into it, it shocks your mouth, and then, slowly, the taste melts into something more pleasant. You swallow it down and it warms your throat, but there’s still that sharp taste left on the inside of your cheeks. It seems that no matter what he does, how many different things he tries, that taste always lingers. He can’t get rid of it.
Changbin’s glad they met when they were kids; that sort of sustained closeness makes it easy for him to turn completely and poke Hyunjin’s cheek, laugh at the way he squints confusedly, keep the distance between their faces to a minimum. They’ve been best friends for so long, a lot of Changbin’s teasing doesn’t come across as anything other than friendly. In his heart, he knows he’s being obvious and flirty - but Hyunjin will always regard it as their dumb brotherly bond. Even knowing that Changbin’s gay (they all knew it - he never had to tell them, it was just something they silently understood, easygoing).
“Are you two done making out?”
Changbin is suddenly pulled from the river of his thoughts by Minho’s voice, shocked and coughing up the water in his lungs. He looks over to see him standing at the door, the others having already gone inside. Hyunjin sits up fast enough to blur.
“ Dude - we weren’t - “
“Yeah, yeah,” Minho grins, “I’m messing with you. Come on, Chan’s mom made lunch.”
They get up slowly, Hyunjin pausing awkwardly before moving for the door, and Changbin follows. He’s cringing internally at what just happened - Hyunjin’s a sweet boy, the sweetest, but he’s painfully touchy about that sort of stuff. If it’s unspoken, he won’t mind, but the gay jokes and the teasing about his and Changbin’s closeness always sets him on edge. For the most part, they try to avoid it.
“You good?” he asks, standing. Hyunjin nods shortly.
“Yeah, why not?”
And Changbin just shrugs, because he knows better than to bring it up.
+
Hyunjin is a mess around Changbin. It’s a problem, truly, and he’s getting worse at controlling it.
He wonders a lot, when you like someone, the most natural thing to want is to hold them, right? When you like someone so much, shouldn’t you want to gather them in your arms, pull them on to your lap, kiss them until you lose your senses? Wouldn’t that make sense?
Hyunjin wants that, but then he doesn’t. The thought of kissing Changbin is always followed by a feeling of elation, and then another, a deep guilt and embarrassment within the pit of his stomach. It’s not that he thinks it’s wrong to like your best friend - it isn’t - but knowing he has no chance, that he’d be laughed at or shunned if it got out, it just weighs him down. He thinks that’s where the whole - the whole girls thing came from. Flirting with them, going out with them. If Hyunjin can construct a version of himself in his head that does like girls and doesn’t like Changbin, and if he can make himself believe it, he can keep his mind off of reality. It just gets so unbearable sometimes.
Which is what leads him to telling Jeongin.
He and Jeongin are close; Hyunjin met him much later than Changbin, sometime in their first year of high school, but they became fast friends. If there’s something Hyunjin can’t tell his best friend, he’ll tell Jeongin - and, well. Obviously he won’t be talking about this with Changbin.
They’re on their way to the bus stop, because as much as Jeongin hates to admit it, it’s gotten dark out and Hyunjin knows the boy hates walking alone in the dark. Felix decided to spend the night at Chan’s, Jisung and Minho were the first to leave, then Changbin had left, and normally Hyunjin would have gone with him since they live next door to each other, but he knew nobody else would walk with Jeongin and, besides, he needed this time alone to talk.
“Hey, uh, Innie?”
“What’s up?”
“Can I talk to you about something?” Something in Jeongin’s expression falters, just briefly, but Hyunjin catches it. “I mean, if you’re okay with it. Like - “
“No, yeah, it’s cool. You just sound so serious, it’s freaking me out. Did something bad happen?”
“No, no, don’t worry. Um. Okay. Wait, I don’t know how to say this.”
“Just say it?”
“You’ll laugh.”
“I laugh at everything, it doesn’t mean anything bad. Mostly when I laugh at you, it’s because I’m endeared.”
“ Endeared ?” Hyunjin repeats, forgetting his dilemma for a moment. “Endeared by me ? No way, you’re endearing. You’re the baby.” Jeongin rolls his eyes, smiling.
“Shut up. What is it you wanna say?”
“Oh, right.” Hyunjin clears his throat. “Er, so you know … Changbin and I have been friends for a long time, right?”
“‘Course I do.”
“Okay, and - and we’re really close, yeah? Like, best friends?”
“Yeah, I know that.”
“What if - What if I told you I had a crush? Um, on my best friend.”
Now Jeongin stops completely, feet freezing solid on the pavement. Hyunjin gurgles out an embarrassed, surprised noise, starting to panic.
“I mean, like, hypothetically? Like what if I had a crush on my best friend, and I’ve been crushing on him since middle school? And it freaks me the fuck out because I know there’s nothing I can do about it and it’s never going to go anywhere but - but I can’t stop it, you know? No matter how much I want to, and - “
Jeongin hushes him with a hand, silently telling him to stop running his mouth. Hyunjin bites his tongue.
“Okay, hold up. You’re talking too fast and I need a second to process this. You … are in love with Changbin?”
“I didn’t say I loved him!” Hyunjin gasps, and he feels so stupid for it, but his heart can’t help starting to race.
But Jeongin, ever so gentle, even at the worst of times, tries to calm him down with a hand on his shoulder. He squeezes it softly. “Hyunjin, it’s okay. You know that, right? This is okay?”
“No, it’s not okay. It - It sucks. Liking someone so much and for - for so long, and never doing anything about it. My chest feels like it’s running out of oxygen and I just, I can’t take it anymore, I had to tell someone. Promise you won’t tell? Promise?”
“Shush, chill out,” Jeongin squeezes again as Hyunjin’s voice starts to pick up. “Of course I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry about that. But, Hyunjin. Who says you can’t do anything about it?”
“What?”
“It’s not like Changbin’s straight, you know, you do have a chance. If anything, Changbin thinks you’re straight. We all do. Or, I did. Not anymore I guess.”
“What does it matter if Changbin thinks I’m straight?” he asks, and if Jeongin stumbles to think of a reply, he doesn’t notice.
“It - It doesn’t, but I’m just saying.”
“Look, I know it sounds dumb, but I just … cannot like him like this. He’s been my best friend since childhood, he should be a brother to me. I don’t - I don’t want to feel like this.”
“You said you’ve liked him since middle school?”
“Yeah.”
“ … I don’t think you have a choice on whether or not you get to feel a certain way, Hyunjin. It’s gone on this long already.”
In the evening darkness, Jeongin’s face is lit up by an overhead streetlamp. His features are warm and comforting, if a little concerned, and not for the first time Hyunjin feels immensely grateful to have him in his life.
“Do you want to know what I think?” he asks, starting to walk again, and Hyunjin hesitates before nodding. “I think it is in your self-interest to be … shameless. Have you been pretending to like girls this whole time to avoid this issue? Do you like girls at all?”
Hyunjin rolls his eyes, sarcastic. “I don’t know, maybe a little? I’ve only spent, like, a significant amount of time obsessing over the same person, who happens to not be a girl, so I’m afraid it’s hard to tell. Does it even matter?”
“Okay, okay, makes sense. Anyway. Don’t be so scared of opening up a little to the … I guess, the prospect of having something more with Changbin. The reason you’re losing your shit right now is that you’ve held all this in for years, and now you’re letting it out all at once and your brain doesn’t know what to do, it’s freaking out. And it shouldn’t be too hard - you know how Changbin is, he’s almost too comfortable with these things, he’s always being touchy with you. Let yourself get more comfortable with that, too, and see where it goes.”
“It’s not going to go anywhere,” Hyunjin mutters.
“Now, see, you don’t know that. Acting like you know things are going to go to hell is what’s been making you so miserable. You should stop doing that.”
Hyunjin wants to say thank you, thank you, thank you to Jeongin for being so clear and telling him what he probably needs to hear, even if it’s hard to listen. He’s got cotton in his ears full of uncertainty, but he hears and he appreciates through it all. His mouth just won’t move. Jeongin chuckles.
“See, this is so typically pisces. I’m not surprised you reacted this way.”
“Oh, shut up,” Hyunjin finally gets his voice to work, shoving the boy next to him. “I was just going to say thank you, too.”
“Thank you, and you appreciate everything I’ve done for you, and you love me - “
Hyunjin says, “Don’t push it,” but he’s grinning. His ribcage still feels tight, skeletal fingers holding his heart in a fist and squeezing it, but the grip is getting looser, the oxygen is coming in. He doesn’t know what he’ll do, but for now he feels okay.
+
The relief of having finally told someone, albeit panickedly and without much sense, is a wave that washes over Hyunjin entirely, rinsing him of what feels like ten layers of grime and sweat. If there’s one thing he’s learned about himself through this, it’s that he cannot let his feelings go unsaid, and the fact that he did it for so long - well, it surprises him, to say the least.
He thought it might be difficult to take Jeongin’s advice, as he’s always been a little more reserved, but it’s surprisingly easy to melt into something like tenderness when he’s around Changbin, now. They’ve been touchy before, Hyunjin’s never really had a choice on that matter, seeing as Changbin grew up with siblings and the type of parents who never ran short on affection, making him almost insufferably clingy (although Hyunjin has always secretly, not-so-secretly liked it); but now Hyunjin fully gives himself up to it: the head on his shoulder, playing footsie under the table, teasingly brushing each other’s pinkie fingers when they’re sitting together. What used to make him flustered and nervous now warms him from the inside, like a furnace. It almost feels like they’re kids again.
Because, when they were kids, Hyunjin didn’t know a thing. It had never occurred to him at a young age that Changbin could be anything other than his best friend. They just fit so naturally , and sometimes, even now, he gets a little breathless thinking about how well they go together. Sometimes you meet someone, and you just know that person is meant to be in your life for a long time, and you’ll care about them just as long; Hyunjin didn’t think about it like that in his childhood, because he probably never thought about anything that deep for more than three seconds, anyway, but he supposes he knew it, always in his heart. They went together like something flowing, molding to fit one another’s shape, and it wasn’t until he got a little older than Hyunjin realized the heaviness of his feelings for Changbin.
He was lying, sort of, indirectly when Jeongin asked if he had ever liked girls at all. Hyunjin knew the answer to that. When you’re fourteen and sexually confused and desperate, desperate to convince yourself that you’re not in love with your life-long best friend - well, you make things up to fit the ideal narrative. And for Hyunjin, that narrative was a projection of heterosexuality. He would like to defend himself and say Hey, could you blame me? but he does feel bad for all the girls he led on, the flirting he did which benefitted no one but his own mirage. The Yeji conversation especially rotted him with guilt, because she’s always been such a nice girl and Hyunjin knew, realistically, that this would happen - but he did nothing to prevent it.
“She’ll recover,” Felix had told him, somewhat absentmindedly. “I’m sure she wasn’t that torn up about it to begin with.”
Minho chimed, “Honestly, I thought she had a thing going with Ryujin.”
“Are you kidding?”
“What? Have you seen them?”
“Yeah I’ve seen them,” Felix laughed, simultaneously amused and judging Minho for his total misinterpretation. “They act like Changbin and Hyunjin, and those two aren’t dating, are they?” They all chuckled at that, but Hyunjin felt Changbin still beside him, and silently wished Felix hadn’t made the comment at all.
Later that day, when Hyunjin and Changbin are walking back to their houses, Changbin slows his pace, and Hyunjin can already sense the buildup - the trees hushing, breeze ceasing, the whole world holding its breath in anticipation for something. Changbin asks, “Does it bother you when they say stuff like that? Like, jokes about us dating or whatever.”
Hyunjin doesn’t mean to take so long answering, but time gets away from him for a moment; the sun is starting to set, casting a warm orange glow over them and everything surrounding, and Changbin’s voice is soft enough to melt under it, blending with the outside air like paint in water. He keeps trying to think in a straight line, one which will lead him to an answer, but he gets sidetracked every few steps. When Changbin clears his throat, Hyunjin jolts.
“Oh - Um, no. Not really. Not unless it bothers you.” And then a pause. “ … Does it?” Changbin shakes his head quickly.
“No, no. I mean, they’re just jokes. I just wanted to double-check, in case you weren’t cool with it. Because I could tell them to stop.”
“Oh. It’s alright.” He says it awkwardly, but it’s true - as uncomfortable as it might be sometimes, Hyunjin secretly longs for the moments like those, for jokes and references made towards his and Changbin’s friendship being anything more. Even though he knows none of it holds any truth, it feels good, validating, to know that they’re that close, and that everyone can see it.
“Hey,” he says abruptly, spitting it out before he has the chance to swallow it down. “Do you wanna sleep over tonight?”
“Should you ask your parents first?”
Hyunjin grins. “I don’t really need to. You’re always welcome, anyway.”
“Okay, sure.”
+
The thing about loving someone, Changbin has come to realize, is that you cherish every moment you can get with them, but you resent every moment, too. He loves being around Hyunjin. He loves everything about it, from the way he tends to ramble when he’s talking about a new drama or album he likes, or how he laughs so easily and so bright, to even just his quiet moments; when the sky darkens outside his window, and the birds stop singing and the stars come out, Hyunjin will sometimes just settle. Tonight, Hyunjin’s got his pink, fuzzy hairband on, which Changbin makes fun of endlessly but secretly adores, because it looks so cute on him, and he’s sitting on his bedroom floor in front of his mirror slathering on a face mask, when he stops suddenly. Changbin wishes for the millionth time that he could read the boy’s mind, thinking Hyunjin looks so gentle and unaware in that moment, with oat-colored goop sticking to one cheek and his eyes having gone distant and fuzzy, but the scene is over as quickly as it came, and then Hyunjin’s back to rubbing his face like normal. Changbin wants to strangle his stupid, lovesick heart.
What he wants is to scoot up close behind the boy and wrap his arms around him, rest his head in the crook of his neck; he wants to kiss both of Hyunjin’s eyes and then his cheeks, and then his lips, but then, what he really wants - what he wants above all else - is to cut out the wanting entirely, because he knows it’ll never happen. It just hurts to ache so much for something, and so fruitlessly.
“You ever think we’re like, soulmates?” Hyunjin asks, and the sheer force and unexpectedness of the question almost knocks Changbin off his bed. “Or, not soulmates, but - I mean, what are they called? Soul sisters? Twin flames? Some shit like that.”
“Yeah,” Changbin laughs nervously. “Maybe. Why are you thinking about that?”
Softly, Hyunjin says, “I dunno. Just, sometimes, I have this really great appreciation for how well we click. And I wonder.”
He’s done with the face mask, and he should get up to go wash his hands off, but what he does is sit there with his palms face up on his knees, not saying a word. It’s Changbin who breaks the silence.
“I think we are.” Now, Hyunjin looks at him. “Like, seriously. You’re right, we do click really well. And I never get tired of being around you - after seventeen years, you’d think we’d be a little sick of each other, but we’re not.
Hyunjin agrees, “Yeah,” and it comes out barely louder than a whisper. He opens his mouth to say something else, even gets as far as making some half-hearted gurgling sound, but swiftly clamps it shut again before any words can come out. “I’m going to go wash my hands,” he says instead, jumping to his feet.
Changbin sits there in the low lighting of Hyunjin’s bedroom, thinking, if he could see himself from an observer’s perspective, this would look like a crisis, this would be destruction. It might be dramatic, but Changbin thinks that anyone in love has the right to be so.
He’s thinking the same thing, hours later when they’re laying side by side in Hyunjin’s bed. He never got a spare mattress or anything for Changbin to sleep on separately and, anyway, they’ve been doing this for so long, it never seemed necessary. More and more these days, though, Changbin finds it almost unbearable to sleep so close together.
At night, their conversation dwindles, but not in an awkward, neither-of-them-knows-what-to-say kind of way. It’s just, both of them are tired, and they don’t need to constantly fill the empty space with words when they’re around each other; it’s comfortable for them to be quiet in one another’s company.
And then, Hyunjin loosens up - which isn’t to say he’s anxious and uptight during the day, because he isn’t, he’s just … reserved. He’s always been a little more shy, keeping a little closer to himself, and although the eight of them are practically brothers and have said and done the dumbest things around each other, including Hyunjin, Changbin can always tell that the boy’s trying to stay in line so he won’t do anything embarrassing or over the top. It makes him sad, because he doesn’t think there’s anything embarrassing or over the top that Hyunjin could do. He only becomes more charming when he lets himself relax.
“You can let yourself go, sometimes,” Changbin has told him before.
“I don’t know what you mean when you say stuff like that. I’m fine, really.”
“You seem like you’re holding something back, a lot.”
“Oh. I’m not.”
Changbin stopped nagging him about it after a while, because it wasn’t getting him anywhere.
At night, when they’re drowsy and cloudy with sleep, Changbin can practically feel the tension melt from Hyunjin’s bones. It’s like a pool of honey gathering around them, sweet and golden, before dissipating again in the morning. Hyunjin will let half-formed thoughts tumble from his lips and become clingier, and Changbin’s learned to enjoy it while he can.
It must be about two in the morning when Hyunjin turns on his side, facing Changbin with his eyes closed. “Hey,” he whispers, not opening them. “You awake?”
“Yeah,” Changbin whispers back.
“I can’t sleep.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno.”
“I told you to stop drinking energy drinks past five, but you don’t listen to me.”
Hyunjin opens his eyes, then, and he opens them so quickly and so wide, Changbin almost flinches. For a moment, they just stare at each other, and - this happens so slowly, Changbin almost doesn’t even notice it - Hyunjin gradually inches his face closer to Changbin’s. The tips of their noses end up touching, and Changbin stops breathing, the remaining oxygen holding onto his lungs for dear life.
And wordlessly, Hyunjin presses a quick, brief kiss to Changbin’s lips. Every atom in the room seems to freeze.
“Um. I’m going to sleep now.” Hyunjin rolls like a barrel, so Changbin can only see his back again.
It’s a long while after that before he manages to fall asleep, but when he does, he’s got two fingers pressed against his lips, like he might be able to trap the feeling in his sleep.
+
When he wakes up, he thinks it might have been a dream, and the tingly feeling along his lips is just his nerves playing a trick on him, but he remembers it all too vividly for it to be a dream. He finds Hyunjin sitting on the edge of the bed, still with his back to Changbin, head bent so he must be looking at the floor. Groggy, Changbin murmurs, “G’morning,” and Hyunjin jumps. Literally. He jumps right off the bed and spins to face Changbin.
“Oh, hey,” he laughs nervously. “I - ahem, I didn’t realize you were awake.”
“It’s okay. Me waking up was a recent development - recent, like, ten seconds ago.”
Hyunjin gives another laugh, one which comes out crippled, like a piece of tissue paper that’s been squeezed in someone’s fist. Changbin loves him, truly, but he can admit that the boy is terrible at hiding how he’s feeling.
“Um, Hyunjin,” he starts, because they have to start somewhere. “I think we should talk.”
“A-About what?”
“About last night.”
“What happened last night?”
Changbin gives him a pointed look. “Come on, Hyunjin. We both know what happened. And - it’s okay, really, I get it. You were really tired, not thinking straight, and … I mean, I know the whole Yeji thing has been weighing on you, lately, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was just an unconscious thing your brain made you do. So, seriously. It’s fine. Don’t be embarrassed about it.”
Hyunjin gapes at him, long enough for Changbin to start feeling awkward about the whole thing.
See, he doesn’t want this to make things weird between them - he would hate for it to come to that. And, as nice as it was to kiss Hyunjin, as good as it felt, he knows what he’s saying is true. All he can do is brush it off and treat it like no big deal, because he is not about to let some dumb mistake mess up one of the most important relationships in his life.
“But, Changbin.”
Changbin didn’t realize his gaze had drifted to the wall behind Hyunjin, staring vacantly while his thoughts roamed about him, but now his eyes dart to meet Hyunjin’s. “Hm?”
“What if, um. What if I liked it. And it wasn’t an accident. And I was tired, and I definitely wasn’t thinking straight, but it also had nothing to do with anyone else but you, because I - I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time. Uh. What if it was like that?”
Changbin’s frozen, unable to say anything and unable to comprehend a word Hyunjin’s just said. He can see Hyunjin’s panic begin to set in the silence.
“I mean, hypothetically! Right? Like, wouldn’t that be crazy? Um. Oh God. Please don’t hate me.”
Changbin suddenly kicks into power at those last words, a quiet, sensitive plea and Hyunjin’s desperate eyes. “Hyunjin,” he says, “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. I’m trying to figure out if you’re fucking with me right now.”
“Well … do you want me to be fucking with you right now?”
“Honestly, no.”
“No?”
“No.” And, because Hyunjin seems to be struggling even more than him at this point, he adds, “I thought the kiss was nice.”
“You did?”
“Yeah.”
“For real?”
“Hyunjin, yes,” Changbin sighs, growing exasperated. “But I’m confused. When have you ever wanted to kiss me?”
“Since middle school, pretty much.”
“Are you - What? Are you kidding me?”
“I seriously wish I was.”
“ I’ve been wanting to kiss you since middle school, dumbass.”
“Oh.” Hyunjin says this, a lonely, quiet Oh , and then, a second after, his whole face opens up in what Changbin can only describe as pure, unadulterated understanding, so strong he thinks this might be what an epiphany looks like. Hyunjin gasps, “ Oh . Oh my God . We’re kind of stupid, aren’t we?”
“Speak for yourself! What was I supposed to think, Mr. I-flirt-with-girls-and-act-like-a-straight-fuckboy?”
“I freaked out!”
“And you’ve been freaking out.”
“I have been, a lot.” Hyunjin’s shoulders sag. The admission is obvious, doesn’t even need to be said out loud, but he looks oddly relieved now that it’s out there.
His voice drops, suddenly gentle, and slowly Changbin says, “You know, you don’t have to freak out anymore. It’s - I mean, I like you. A lot.”
“I like you, too. A lot a lot.”
“Okay, so … “
Changbin sits up straighter, turning so his legs hang off the edge of the bed and his hands go back to support him. Reluctantly, Hyunjin moves closer, until he can fit in the space between Changbin’s thighs and Changbin can reach up to hold his face. He lets his fingers wander for a bit, thumbing an invisible pattern along Hyunjin’s cheeks, which are still dewy with sleep, and Hyunjin’s temples, his nose, his eyes, his lips, which are full and bright pink and cushiony, and it’s not a new feeling, wanting to kiss his best friend, but this time it’s stronger than ever. A pure desire, shaped like a dog with sharpened teeth and gnashing, writhing around his Changbin’s stomach, hungry like never before.
He says, “I’m gonna kiss you,” like it’s a warning, and Hyunjin gives himself up completely.
In an instant, Hyunjin has melted into him, bunching the fabric of Changbin’s t-shirt in his fists and leaning in so close he’s practically sitting on Changbin’s lap, and Changbin’s mind is doing cartwheels; he feels like a cartoon character, dizzy with stars spinning about his head, incapable of doing anything and focusing on anything other than kissing Hyunjin.
When they pull apart, Changbin’s breathless - partially from the kiss, but also because his heart is beating too fast for its own good, and there just doesn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room. He and Hyunjin stare at each other for a bit, mouths parted, until he laughs. The sound of it catches them both by surprise.
“What?” Hyunjin asks, looking worried all of a sudden.
“Nothing, nothing. Just - “ Changbin giggles some more “ - since middle school, really? Why are we idiots?”
“Well, speak for yourself … “ Hyunjin jokes, repeating Changbin’s earlier words back to him, and then both laugh before being pulled into each other again.
This is no longer a crisis, Changbin thinks. This is something new. And he’s unbearably excited for it.