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Cold, bitter air hit the bottom of his feet, making him curl up under the covers.
Taehyun squinted, blinking away the sleepiness from his eyes and adjusting them to the dark. He sighed, looking over to his clock. 4am. Sleep was beginning to lull him back in again, dreams of honey-slicked spoons gracing his lips, so sweet and heavenly he could almost taste it, green grassy field soft under his palm, and the sweet and comforting smell of lavender filling his nose.
What brought him back to reality — in where it was 4 in the morning — was the slight breeze the night carried into his bedroom. He shivered slightly, wrapping himself up more into the white covers of the bed. His toes curled, and he mentally scolded himself for not wearing socks that night, though he never wore socks to sleep.
Taehyun managed to open his eyes and looked out towards the open door to the balcony, the source of where the wind was coming from. Sleepily, he got up, shivering again as the cool air hit his legs. His shorts were covered by Beomgyu’s large hoodie, one he had borrowed (“Stole. You stole my hoodie.” “We share things — I can’t steal what’s mine, Gyu.”). His bare feet padded over to the door, peeking his head towards the cause of his coldness.
There he was, sitting silently on one of their balcony chairs as he stared out into the small city, a quiet one at that. He had thrown on one of his old hoodies, sweatpants still covering his legs. His hair was messy — more than usual — as he kept carding his fingers through the dark brown locks, a habit Taehyun knew as overthinking. Taehyun admired him from afar, the feeling of home never faltering.
Taehyun didn’t have to say anything. Beomgyu didn’t have to say anything. The temptation to hold him from behind, envelope him with his love and protection was there, but he knew better than to cross his space like that.
Instead he walked over to him, sitting down next to him. He said nothing, just stared out into the world with him.
It was beautiful, the world. It had everything Taehyun could’ve ever wanted, and it had given it to him in the form of Beomgyu. Haunting, in a way. How did the world know I needed him? Do I need him in other dimensions? Lifetimes?
The world had a funny way of playing with him, and how silly he had felt when he wondered if the world had planned out the most horrible day the day he met Beomgyu. He who had spilled pink lemonade over Taehyun’s white shirt, he who had seen the stress of all week (it was a Wednesday) just poured out of him as Taehyun told him to watch where he was going.
Beomgyu who had — despite the yelling — never felt more enamored by anyone but him.
Taehyun’s eyes managed to glance over at him, heart racing as he realized he was already staring back at him. Happy eyes he had loved were droopy, stress filling them to the brim like a cup on the verge of spilling. His hand ached to be pressed against his cheek, but he refrained.
All he could offer was a comforting gaze back. I get it. I understand. Let it out if you need to.
“Thank you for being here,” Beomgyu said quietly. His voice was rough from sleep still.
And Taehyun wanted to hold his hand, tell him that he would be here with him any day, every day even. But Beomgyu’s delicate, and he would treat him as such. Because you don’t touch delicate things so quickly, in fear of crushing them. So you wait until you know you have enough delicacy to handle it with.
That’s how Taehyun ended up responding, “I don’t really mind.” Because he didn’t, he really didn’t.
Beomgyu’s eyes glossed over, and the younger boy saw a little flicker of light behind them. Slowly, barely even there, wouldn’t have noticed if he wasn’t looking at him so closely.
Silence hung over them like a warm blanket, and it’s comforting. But nothing was anything less with Beomgyu. Nothing ever would.
As the silence between them covered them, Taehyun could feel them getting closer. He let him close the gap between their bodies as Beomgyu rested his head against his, reaching his hand out to grab his.
After a little while, when they felt that the warm blanket of silence was more of a metaphor than reality and their feet were getting too cold, they stood. Taehyun had yet to make any attempt to touch him, but Beomgyu held his hand tightly against his.
They walked back into their bedroom, Beomgyu heading over to the bed as Taehyun closed the door to the patio. He looked at him while he sat there. It was too dark to see him correctly, but Taehyun knew his expression. Tired, worn out from the day’s activities, and having to re-do them all over again the next day. He knew.
After settling into bed, Taehyun looked over at him, he who was staring back at him.
“How are you feeling?” he asked quietly.
Beomgyu’s eyes meet his, the light behind them flickering more and more every time. And though it wasn’t his regular light — a light brighter than all the other stars combined — Taehyun still thought his eyes held the whole galaxy.
“I’m… I’m okay,” he said quietly, as if unsure of his own answer.
“It’s okay if you’re not,” Taehyun said. He looked down at their fingers, which were touching ever so slightly.
“I know,” Beomgyu nodded. His fluffy hair covered his eyes a little, making him look younger than he was. “I just want to lay here. With you.” He leaned in closer, their noses barely touching, and Taehyun could feel the older boy’s warm breath against his lips. “Please lay here with me.”
Beomgyu took his hand and placed it against Taehyun’s cheek as he pulled them together, foreheads now touching. The younger let himself bask in his warmth, the warmth he had been missing earlier when the coldness had taken Beomgyu’s place.
Sleep began to lull Taehyun in once more, those dreams of honey-slicked spoons were now his lover’s lips, prodding against his ever so softly. Sweet taste of honey and lavender clouded his senses, and he couldn’t think of anything other than that.
Honey, lavender, Beomgyu. Honey, lavender, Beomgyu. Beomgyu. Beomgyu.
In the morning, the sun peeked through their curtains, gracing Beomgyu’s golden skin so lovely, touching him like he was precious velvet, almost as delicate as the fine material. Taehyun sighed dreamily as his eyes glazed over Beomgyu’s perfect features as said boy let out small puffs of breath in his sleep.
Morning birds replaced the nightingales, sun replaced the moon, morning dew and the sweet smell of oak from outside replaced the cold and bitter air that brought the smell of loneliness and uncertainty. Day replaced night.
But nothing could ever replace Beomgyu.
Their noses touched, lips ghosting over each other. Taehyun could smell the sun, the flowers, the birds, the oak — as if his senses had heightened because of their proximity.
Or maybe because Beomgyu was all of that.
If mornings consisted of golds and greens and white bedsheets and honey and lavender, Taehyun didn’t want to see anything else.