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There’s haze in the air as Jaehyun takes another drag from his cigarette.
The strong, rich, aromatic smell of pumpkin spices emanate from the diner bustling with life a short distance from where he’s standing and Jaehyun stays hidden under the shadows of the abandoned overpass. It’s a chilly late autumn night, enough to turn his nose into pink, and he shouldn’t be out here waiting in the cold but Taeyong’s still working and he doesn’t really want to go inside.
There’s haze in his mind when he sees the door to the backroom exclusively for the staffs open and then there’s Taeyong. Weird, he thinks. He’s been getting this strange sentiment a lot these days. Whenever he’s around Taeyong, it has become too much. Too much awareness, too much sensitivity, too much thought, too much feeling that Jaehyun’s mind goes into a muddled mess. And that’s his best friend, for God’s sake.
He watches as Taeyong rips off his apron a little too forcefully with a scowl on his face. He quickly lets the remaining stick between his fingers fall from his grasp, not even bothering to take a last drag, and stomps it with the heel of his boot. Taeyong doesn’t like it when he smokes because he cares about Jaehyun’s health more than the younger himself, and he knows he’s about to get an earful of reminders again.
“You shouldn’t have done that. I would’ve let it slide tonight, you know,” Taeyong says with a long sigh once he’s come close. He stares forlornly at Jaehyun’s feet. “I desperately needed one.”
He’s talking in pout and the dark pearls of his eyes are extra big and unfocused, those of which a telltale sign that something’s incredibly bothering him. Usually, Taeyong would cheekily sneak whatever food he can get his hands on out the backroom so they can share it once his shift is done, and Taeyong would keep blabbering over a mouthful about how his uncle’s going to get mad at him again but keeps doing it anyway and Jaehyun would happily console him and tell him, it’s okay, we’re partners in crime. Jaehyun supposes tonight’s not one of those nights.
“Again?” he asks carefully. Taeyong sighs and gives a noncommittal shrug. “What happened?”
“It doesn’t matter. He’s always mad at me.” Taeyong sighs for what seems to be the umpteenth time that night. “Fuck. I’m such a mess, Jae. I can’t do anything right. I’m never gonna be enough, am I?”
“Don’t say that,” Jaehyun replies softly, patting Taeyong on the cheek a couple of times. “You know that’s not your worth. You are so much more than that, Yong.”
“Well, it seems that I’m not. To him, at least,” Taeyong insists.
He’s still dressed in that hideous maroon-colored dress shirt uniform that his uncle insists for the serving staff to wear when the diner’s not even fancy enough for the waiters to walk around the cramped space in formal, neck-suffocating attire.
Ever since Taeyong began working for his uncle, Jaehyun always made sure to pick him up after even if he has his own work and responsibilities back at his father’s company. He may not admit it to himself, but he’s worried something would happen to Taeyong. The old man doesn’t like him and he’s not even subtle about it anymore. He’s always treated his nephew like an obligation, another mouth to feed and a head to put under the roof, rather than out of sheer will and generosity for his passing sister. Jaehyun’s so grateful that his father is always understanding of Taeyong’s situation and that any impromptu change of schedule in his son’s side regarding Taeyong, not once did he complain about it.
Jaehyun doesn’t really mind this kind of arrangement, being Taeyong’s designated driver and all, because there are several perks to it (one being he can shamelessly ogle at his best friend in that ugly uniform which is rapidly becoming Jaehyun’s newly developed kink, he realizes dramatically) and it’s Taeyong. He’s always willing to do anything and run an extra mile for him.
“I hope you know this also means I don’t have a place to crash in tonight,” Taeyong gives him his best puppy eyes look which frankly, doesn’t take a lot of effort to convince. One simple look alone can make Jaehyun’s defenses crumble. The cold seems to be catching up to him judging by the way his cheeks and nose are dusted by barely-there pinks now.
Jaehyun feigns surprise. “Of course. What else did you think I was here for?”
“Free food?”
“Then I’m hurt.”
Taeyong’s laugh reverberates throughout the cut-throat silence of the night and his cheeks are flashing rosy a little brighter now.
Jaehyun’s lips curl upward involuntarily. “Come on, it’s cold.”
Taeyong had a few drinks by the time they arrived in Jaehyun’s condo. Taeyong wanted samgyupsal for dinner even though Jaehyun had suggested he’ll treat him to a nice meal but the younger has long figured it out that there’s not really an argument once Taeyong makes up his mind. He sulked for a moment when Jaehyun ordered premium beef for them because it’s too expensive but the younger insisted, and in exchange, he had to let Taeyong order himself a bottle of peach-flavored soju under the reason that he had to let loose.
In the end, Jaehyun had to haul his ass out of the place before he can finish his second bottle. Taeyong is ridiculously lightweight and Jaehyun isn’t sure he can handle a drunk Taeyong, not tonight. Or maybe not ever, if this stupid, stupid, weird feeling creeping up his gut holding him in a vice-like grip wouldn’t fuck off.
They’re tiptoeing their way down the hallway, trying their hardest not to cause too much noise because it’s late, but it’s almost impossible for the both of them.
Taeyong is latched onto Jaehyun’s side like a leech and he’s not even that drunk to be needing support but he’s throwing his weight on him anyway. Jaehyun, being the completely sober one, gladly welcomes the weight, and the warmth that comes with Taeyong, as he balances both their weights while they walk. He’s droning on about the infantile incidents that happened when he was out for drinks with Yuta and the others that weekend.
“It was so incredibly childish but hilarious. Yuta almost fought the live band on the stage just because they didn’t know the Japanese band he had requested them to play. The bouncers were so ready to haul his ass off the room. And he was in a suit! It was humiliating.”
Taeyong convulses with another bout of laughter. “I tell you, he’s a whole ass buffoon.”
Taeyong’s so close to him that the sound of his laughter pours directly through Jaehyun’s ear and for a few seconds, he fumbles with the lock on his door as if he’s intoxicated as well, which he is, in a sense, in a very different way than the older, one that does not concern a certain alcohol intake but rather the matters of the heart.
Once opened, he pushes Taeyong in first then closes the door behind them.
“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun mutters under his breath at the sight.
“Oh?” Taeyong echoes his surprise. “Hi, Sungchannie!”
Sungchan is bent over the coffee table, a large bowl of instant ramen and a can of soda placed in front of him. Jaehyun’s half-finished paper works are swept haphazardly onto the edges of the table and he pales.
“What the hell are you doing here, you rascal?”
The devil disguised as his own little brother merely gives a half ass shrug before he goes back to watching whatever show he was previously attuned to on the screen. “You know dad, he’s always too much. And I can only take so little.”
Jaehyun sighs, sitting on the arm of the couch. He crosses his arms. “Is this about school again? Just apologize to him and promise you’ll do better next time. You can’t always run away from your problems like this.”
Taeyong emerges in the living room after he purposely stalled in the foyer arranging their coats and shoes to give some privacy to the brothers.
“Taeyongie-hyung!” Sungchan jumps from his perch on the floor to latch himself onto the older. “He wants me to go home.”
“And I mean it,” Jaehyun says sternly. “Finish your meal, get your stuff, and I’ll drive you home.”
“It’s getting late, Jae, I don’t think you should be driving at this hour, hm?” Taeyong suggests gently, his arms already wrapped protectively over Sungchan. “I think you, Jungs, should discuss this matter tomorrow morning over a warm cup of milk. How does that sound?”
“Fine,” Jaehyun relents with a sigh, dropping his arms to the sides.
“This is why I like you so much, hyung,” Sungchan coos at the older. Taeyong looks so small compared to his brother that Jaehyun was so ready to drop to his knees and cry like a baby. “More than my brother, that’s for sure. Even I like the food you cook more than my brother’s.”
Jaehyun dramatically gasps. “I didn’t cook for you and spoon-fed you when you were younger just for you to be so ungrateful in the end.”
“But you don’t even cook for me now, hyung.”
Taeyong laughs and takes a look at the contents on the table. Jaehyun can literally see the thought process behind when the older’s gaze catches on the unhealthy combination of convenient store meal laid out on it and the way his face scrunches up after.
“Come on, I’ll cook a proper meal for you, Channie. You must be so hungry,” Taeyong declares, tugging Sungchan with him to the kitchen.
“Hey, aren’t you a little drunk, though? Are you sure you want to cook now? I’m sure the brat can survive the night with those noodles,” Jaehyun asks, rising a bit from his seat.
“I’ll have some tea and I should be fine.”
Before they can be completely out of sight, Taeyong catches Jaehyun’s gaze. He smiles, steals a brief, fond gaze at Sungchan before mouthing a small ‘thank you’ to him. Jaehyun doesn’t need to think hard to know what he means by that.
Jaehyun’s leisurely scrolling through his email to see if he’s missed anything or needed to clear unimportant ones. He’s sprawled on one side of the bed, ready for sleep, and he’s just waiting for Taeyong to come out of the bathroom so he can turn off the lights.
His unit consists only of two bedrooms so whenever circumstances arise wherein both his brother and Taeyong decide to come over at the same time, it has become an unspoken agreement that Sungchan takes the spare bedroom while Taeyong sleeps in Jaehyun’s room. It isn’t awkward or strange, it just feels natural. He and Taeyong have been sharing beds ever since middle school, all the way back in Jaehyun’s parents’ house.
“Jaehyun-ah, do you want to do some skin care with me?” A head of fluffy hair peeks out from the corner of the bathroom’s door. “There’s this whole box of face sheets I brought over that we haven’t used yet. Want to try it out together?”
“Yeah, sure.” Jaehyun sits up and puts his phone on the nightstand.
Taeyong emerges from the bathroom, holding two packets of face sheet in baby blue-colored wrappings. He slides in the bed next to Jaehyun. “Here, let’s do each other’s.”
He tells the younger to quickly find some hair tie so he can tie his bangs. Taeyong bunches up his grown-out bangs, tying handful of those soft strands so that Jaehyun looks like a cute little, sleepy apple. Taeyong giggles at his own handiwork, eyes sparkling with mischief, before he pulls at Jaehyun’s hair a little too hard for necessary.
Jaehyun makes a little surprised noise. Then, in an affronted voice, he asks, “What was that for?”
“Nothing,” Taeyong grins, suppressing a snort. The other raises an eyebrow at him, clearly not buying it. He grins wider before pulling an innocent expression in a flash. “Come on, Jaehyunnie, give me one more tie.”
“For what?” Jaehyun asks, looking down at Taeyong’s hands which are making grabby motions at him. Now he’s getting suspicious.
“Because it’ll look really cute if it’s a twin. You’ll look really cute,” Taeyong explains.
“But aren’t I cute already?”
Taeyong rolls his eyes at the younger’s antics. Still, he doesn’t miss the chance to ride at it. After all, he had endured Jaehyun’s corny antics for years. “That’s why I put the ‘really’ before.”
When Jaehyun doesn’t make a move to get what he’s asked, Taeyong takes it upon himself and reaches over the other’s side of the bed to rummage through the nightstand for some tie. He beams at him brightly before he gathers another bunch of Jaehyun’s soft bangs next to the finished other, Jaehyun looking at him with a blank face, not amused, but letting him do whatever he pleases anyway.
Taeyong makes sure to pull at it again, just for the hell of it and because he feels like causing trouble, with a poorly concealed chuckle but this time Jaehyun is quick to retaliate, playfully pinching at the older’s ankle. The latter laughs when he’s finished, seeing the cute little twin antennas on top of Jaehyun’s head.
“Seriously? You want to pull on my leg now?”
“What are you talking about?” Taeyong feigns ignorance then proceeds to pat the younger fondly on the cheek, emphasizing the last one. “When did your hair grow so long, hm?”
Jaehyun narrows his eyes at him, unaware of how ridiculous he looks. In the end, he says, “I haven’t had the time for a haircut. I was so busy.”
Taeyong distractedly hums at the back of his throat as he starts unpacking one of the face sheets. He quickly unfolds the sticky material before applying it onto Jaehyun’s face carefully. “We should do that some time. I’m actually thinking of dyeing my hair again. My roots are starting to stick out.”
He scrunches his nose at the thought, so concentrated that he fails to notice the other staring. He looks so adorable that Jaehyun can’t help but to chuckle, his heartbeat somehow going erratic. He clears his throat immediately, hums, and says, “I think you should try a brighter shade this time, like honeyed silver or something. It suits you.”
“You think so?” Taeyong asks excitedly, albeit still hyper-focused on the task at hand. He had placed the sheet incorrectly on the nose part and he giggles before apologizing. He’s definitely not sorry.
Jaehyun decides to ignore that. “Mhm, and you should keep it long. It’s nice and you look really good.”
And if Jaehyun’s stomach does a strange flip at that mere complement for the older, he decides to ignore that too.
“Really? Then I’ll take your word for it, Jae.”
The smile that Taeyong graces him with is nothing of that mischief from earlier, just pure sunshine and rainbows, and Jaehyun is afraid this time he cannot ignore the way his whole face, ears included, warms at the sight. He quickly backpedals, opts for a reply that diverts from the puddled mess he’s in, “You should. You know I’m never wrong with these things.”
Taeyong isn’t impressed. “Don’t act so cocky on me now, you little cockchafer.”
“Seriously? You’re calling me a beetle now?”
The other barely restrains his laugh. “What, like it’s a bad thing? They’re so cute!”
“No, they’re not!” he argues, making a show of rolling up his sleeves. He narrows his eyes. “You are making fun of me right now, aren’t you?”
It must be on reflex when Taeyong quickly grabs the closest pillow to him then crawls toward the edge of his side of the bed, using the pillow as a shield. “No tickles! Sungchan is asleep!”
“I wasn’t going to,” Jaehyun replies, smiling triumphantly. He waves the packet of face sheet in front. “See? Now come back here.”
Taeyong is hesitant but he slowly inches back to him anyway but not letting go of the pillow. Jaehyun works silently with practiced ease, his fingertips gently patting patches of the sheet so that it properly sits on his face.
“Hey, but seriously, this has been bothering me quite a lot these days,” Taeyong starts, his voice so small as if he’s afraid to open up about it. Jaehyun hums an encouragement and he takes a deep breath before he speaks again, “Do you think I’ll ever find love?”
Jaehyun stops abruptly, surprised at the question. “Why do you ask?”
“Because whenever I look at Yuta and Doyoung so happy and contented with each other, I just think, wow, I want that for myself too but now, I’m honestly not so sure about it. I mean, no one is interested in me. Am I that unattractive?”
“No. No, of course not. Why would you think that?”
“I don’t know what else.”
Jaehyun sighs, searching Taeyong’s face. It’s quite ridiculous, what with the face sheets and the laughable situation of his own hair he doesn’t even know of, yet Taeyong has chosen such a serious topic to open up about. His eyes are so big and dark peering up at him, like they hold an entire galaxy in them, and his mouth is in a sorrowful pout.
“Maybe you’re just not looking enough, Yong,” he says in the end. “I mean, there’s gotta be people who secretly wants to date you, right? Take for example, was it Sangwok, his name? He’s been blatantly hitting on you ever since you had stepped foot in that goddamn diner. I’ve seen it firsthand, countless of times.”
Taeyong scrunches his nose. “Are you serious? Not Sangwok. He’s a closeted asshole.”
“Hey, don’t be too harsh,” he chastises, lightly hitting him on the shoulder, but he too laughs because well, it’s true.
“Okay, maybe you’re right,” Taeyong exhales, hugging the pillow closer to him. He’s staring at Jaehyun, a bit too intensely for comfort, and the latter is beginning to imagine impossible things when suddenly he bursts out laughing.
“What?” he asks. This is the second time tonight where he just randomly burst out laughing. Taeyong must be having the time of his life poking fun at him.
“It’s just that you’re so serious but your appearance says otherwise.”
Jaehyun groans and makes a move to stand up, the sound of Taeyong’s laughter trailing behind him as he makes a beeline for the bathroom. What he sees is a horrendous sight. Shit, he does look like a fucking cockchafer.
He comes back to the bed, feeling so wronged, and Taeyong’s still laughing at him but before he can make a move to dodge his hand, Jaehyun had it already clasped to his ankle, preventing him to get away. He quietly shrieks and tries to break free, the noises he’s making which sounds like a mixture of laughter and whine muffled by the mattress. Jaehyun can’t help but to laugh too, because he’s feeling childish and petty seeing the other struggle in his hold, wriggling like a worm.
“Ow, that hurts!”
And then there’s a knock.
Sungchan’s voice filters through the door. “Are you guys doing something unbecoming in there? With me in here?”
Jaehyun pales then blushes furiously after. He lets go of Taeyong’s ankle and grabs onto a pillow instead, throwing it to the door so that it clatters against the frame. “Shut up and just go to sleep!”
“I was but then I got so thirsty and went to fetch some water but then I heard you guys so…” comes Sungchan’s muffled reply.
Jaehyun is about to stand up and lecture his little brother about manners but Taeyong is quick to stop him by the shirt.
“Goodnight, Sungchannie! Sleep tight!” Taeyong says brightly.
“Goodnight, hyung!” And then he’s off, the silent sound of his footsteps walking away an indicator he did listen to Taeyong.
“That brat,” Jaehyun sighs. “We should probably peel these off.”
“How’s everything going with Taeyong?” Yuta asks over a mouthful of sandwich. Beside him, Doyoung grunts when he sees the mayonnaise smudged at the corner of his boyfriend’s lips and proceeds to wipe it with a bunch of tissues.
They’re currently at lunch break, squeezed in a corner of the Starbucks located across the street from their building. During this particular lunch hour, it’s no surprise that it’s packed to the brim with customers going in and out, but these three men are also tired of the cafeteria lunch menu, so it’s definitely worth the hustle and the hectic setting.
“What do you mean?” Jaehyun asks quizzically.
“Can you believe this, babe? This man is still in denial. For the love of God, Jae, do us a favor and quit beating around the bushes. Just ask Taeyong out so you guys can fuck already or something.” Yuta says, pointing his fork at Jaehyun and the latter rolls his eyes. That earns them a few glares from the other tables. At this point, it’s quite amusing how Yuta somehow manages to draw attention to himself, albeit most of the time unwanted.
Doyoung sighs and in his patient voice, he chastises, “I told you to not point around sharp utensils so carelessly, babe, it’s dangerous.”
“Right. Sorry.”
Jaehyun lifts an eyebrow in annoyance. “And what gives you the reason to think Taeyong likes me that way? We’re best friends.”
“Oh please, not the best friend card again. You’ve been using that for years, Jae, which is exactly why you guys still aren’t dating yet,” Yuta explains. “It’s been years. Years and years of keeping myself from telling you how fucking blind you both are.”
“Hey, you don’t need to cuss to get your point across,” Doyoung interjects. “I’m sure Jaehyun understands perfectly.”
“No, I feel like I should to get my point across, especially. Otherwise he wouldn’t listen to me if I wasn’t aggressive enough.”
Jaehyun is considerably pissed right now and he thinks that’s a bit unprofessional because he knows his friend just wants what makes him happy the most, so he picks up his coffee to hide his scowl behind it.
“You’re right,” he says in the end.
A few weeks later and Jaehyun finds himself standing at his usual spot on the dark abandoned overpass near the diner. The nights have gotten significantly colder that Taeyong had told him to just wait in the car but tonight, he just can’t. He’s so anxious. He keeps thinking about what Yuta had told him that day and if he can’t tell Taeyong everything now, he might just explode.
He spots Taeyong opening the back door, the warm light of the streetlamp highlighting his freshly dyed hair. It’s honeyed silver, as promised, with mullet and it does suit him. He looks like an angel.
In the corner where the hands of the streetlamp can’t reach, a tall figure suddenly appears. It takes Jaehyun by surprise, likewise Taeyong, and he’s ready to sprint when the man reaches out what seems to be a piece of paper to Taeyong before walking away.
He watches as the older looks down at the paper in his hand and Jaehyun feels his blood boil. Taeyong begins walking to the direction of the car where Jaehyun’s supposed to be waiting and is surprised when the younger comes out from the dark corners of the overpass instead.
“Jaehyun? What are you doing out here in the cold? I told you to wait for me in the car,” he says.
He doesn’t answer, just stares at the paper still in Taeyong’s grasp as if wanting to burn holes. The older catches on that and he immediately crumples it.
“Who was that?”
“No one,” Taeyong answers. “I noticed he’s been around a lot lately and he, uh, he just gave me his number.”
Jaehyun exhales, trying to convince himself to stay calm and that he’s being unreasonable. “Let’s get in the car, Yong, you’ll get cold.”
They walk to Jaehyun’s car in silence. He lets the older slide in first before he rounds the hood to get to his own side. He starts the engine in silence and drives in silence too, the both of them too afraid to speak for different reasons. Taeyong is hesitant to explain because he isn’t sure if Jaehyun cares to know while the younger fears he might say something hurtful to the other.
After a few moments of stifling quiet, Taeyong decides to break it. “Jaehyun. Listen, I didn’t intend to use it. I was going to throw it away, I swear.”
Jaehyun doesn’t answer right away, just keeps driving. An apology is at the tip of Taeyong’s tongue when he finally speaks, his voice low and concealed. “But you didn’t have to accept it. You could’ve just turned him down directly.”
“Because I thought it would’ve been rude—” Taeyong cuts himself off. “You know what, forget it. I don’t even know why I’m explaining myself to you. It’s not like we’re a thing or something. We’re just best friends, right? For fuck’s sake. I can do whatever I want, right?”
That hit Jaehyun straight to the heart, like a knife twisting his insides out because he’s a coward, because it’s reality, because it’s Taeyong. His hands grip the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to bleed white but it doesn’t hurt and he doesn’t stop driving either. It’s too much, he doesn’t want to be in the same space with Taeyong right now but the road seems to be longer than usual and Taeyong’s presence seems to be bigger, demanding his attention and dominating his thoughts.
“Pull over,” Taeyong exhales.
“What? No, I’m not letting you walk in the cold and get sick just because of this stupid fight, Yong, you know that,” he grumbles, his eyes rapidly alternating between the road ahead and the man beside him.
“No, I’m not going to get out of this car. I promise. Just… Pull over, please.”
“Alright.”
When Jaehyun does, Taeyong doesn’t waste time and immediately faces him. His eyes are clouded over with hot tears and something so honest, so sweet, so tender, and so full of longing. Jaehyun’s heart breaks.
“I’m staying, Jae. I’m not going to run away from my feelings anymore, from this, from you.”
Jaehyun doesn’t answer but he dives from his seat ignoring the console between them to wrap his fingers around Taeyong’s soft, soft hair and kisses him with an urgency that can start a fire using only the hands. He kisses Taeyong with everything he has and desperately hopes that he can feel his heart through it.
Taeyong responds by placing his hands at his torso, up, up, until he’s gripping at Jaehyun’s shoulder blades through the layers of his clothes. He kisses back with as much fervor, to let the younger know that yes, he can feel it.
It’s overwhelming, it’s all over the place, but it’s not enough, they’re not ready to break apart just yet, but Jaehyun’s thighs are starting to burn. Jaehyun tugs impatiently at his coat and Taeyong is quick to tear it off him, just as Jaehyun is to his own, discarding them to the backseats. In a swift movement, Taeyong mounts himself on top of Jaehyun, sliding on his lap as naturally as breathing, as fitting as the right piece to a puzzle.
They kiss because they can’t seem to get enough of each other, Jaehyun’s hands always moving like he doesn’t know where to put them. His mouth takes a different venture too, moving from Taeyong’s mouth down to the sharp line of his jaw and lower onto the sensitive spot just under his ear. He sucks tenderly at the soft skin, directly earning a breathy moan from the older.
A few moments later, the fiery urgency they both felt earlier subsides into something tender, slow, unhurried, their lips moving in sync with each other like their heartbeats. When they finally part, Taeyong’s cheeks are streaked with tears he didn’t know were shed. Jaehyun kisses them too before thumbing at the stains.
Taeyong gently cups his face. “When I was asking you about love back then, I was trying to give you a sign. But it’s okay now, Jae, I’m glad we were able to talk this through.”
“God. I’m so sorry, Yong, I really am. And I love you. I think I’ve always been with you.”
“I love you too, Jae,” Taeyong says as he buries his face onto the crook of Jaehyun’s neck. The latter wraps his arms around him and pulls him in closer. “Thank you.”
That night, Jaehyun didn’t cry at the car. It didn’t sink in him yet. Only when they lay in bed, with Taeyong fast asleep in his arms, the first ever night he got to hold him in his arms and call him as his, did he cry.
Jaehyun isn’t grand on sweet gestures, much less to his younger brother, but he’s invited Sungchan over for lunch today and he’s cooking for him.
“Hyung, what are you cooking? Ah, I’m so hungry,” Sungchan blabbers about, peeking over Jaehyun’s shoulder.
Jaehyun just shushes him and tells him to ready the table. He’s cooking samgyetang, Sungchan’s favorite food. He’s reminded of the old times, when he used to cook for his little brother when their parents were too busy and he was too grumpy to eat the food prepared by their maids. As a child, Sungchan often had an upset stomach and Jaehyun would cook this soup for him. Sungchan always swore he had the best samgyetang.
“Wow, hyung! I really missed this. I’m digging in!”
“Careful, it’s hot.”
“But really, thank you, hyung,” Sungchan says over a mouthful of rice and chicken. “This is so delicious. You still hold the title for the best samgyetang ever and I don’t think it’ll change for me either.”
Jaehyun chuckles. “Eh, that’s good to know then.”
“But I don’t get it. This is really suspicious. Do you have anything to say or to announce, perhaps?”
Jaehyun puts down his chopsticks and intertwines his fingers over the table. He clears his throat. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous. Maybe it’s for the fact that his little brother is the first person he’s breaking this news to. “Um. Nothing much really, just that me and your Taeyong-hyung, we kind of started dating and uh, he’s moving in.”
Sungchan almost drops his spoon. “Well, thank fuck— I mean God. Hallelujah, really. Freaking finally, it’s happening! Congrats, hyung!”
Jaehyun coughs, trying to hide his blush. “Thanks for, uh, receiving it so positively, I really appreciate that. You’re still very much welcome to come by anytime, though. Although I prefer you tell mom and dad beforehand so they wouldn’t worry.”
“I will. I’m sorry, hyung,” Sungchan smiles sheepishly. “And it’s nothing. I was really rooting for you both. I just love Taeyongie-hyung so much, he’s so precious. We were all rooting for you. I’m so happy for you, hyung.”
“He is,” Jaehyun smiles at the thought. “Now eat up before the food gets cold.”
Sungchan nods. “And one more thing, hyung?”
“Yes?”
“Do you think if I take up Performing Arts in college, I’ll be able to do it?”
Jaehyun grins widely, his dimples popping out, then ruffles his brother’s hair. “Absolutely.”
The last time Jaehyun finds himself on the overpass doesn’t happen during night. It happens on dusk, on a winter day, where snow is crisp under his boot and the sun bathes the city golden before it hides behind the distant mountains. It’s almost cathartic, like the closing of a chapter, of a past Taeyong didn’t need.
As soon as Taeyong emerges from the backdoor, he runs to Jaehyun like a child, flapping his arms up and down and a playful skip to his steps.
“Jaehyunnie! It’s done, I’m finally free from this place!” Taeyong announces, jumping straight to Jaehyun’s arms and wrapping his legs around his waist. “I have another good news too.”
Jaehyun grins as well, mirroring Taeyong’s ear-to-ear, as he spins them both and mounts Taeyong onto the brick rail of the overpass so that he’s sitting and Jaehyun can claim the space between his legs.
“What is it?” he asks.
“I got a job offer at Moon Taeil’s restaurant! He was my senior and mentor in culinary school and he just opened up his own place. He said he’s willing to give me an opportunity.”
Jaehyun places a soft kiss onto his forehead. “I’m so proud of you, Yong, words are insufficient, really.”
Taeyong pouts. “So what are you waiting for? Kiss me already.”
“We’re in public.”
“So what? No one’s around.”
“Yong, we’re literally out in the open. For everyone to see.”
“Then let them look!”
Jaehyun fakes a scandalized look. “I don’t want to.”
Taeyong tightens his legs around Jaehyun’s waist, his pout getting more exaggerated. “Then no kisses for me until I say so.”
“Hey, that’s not fair! You can’t just throw these out around randomly,” Jaehyun protests. Then, he grumbles a small ‘fine’ before he leans in and places a brief kiss to Taeyong’s lips. The latter chases for his lips after because it happened in the blink of an eye.
“What the hell was that? That wasn’t a kiss,” Taeyong complains, almost whines. “Come on, dimpled boy, just give me a real kiss then I’m off your hair.”
“Right now, I don’t know if I want to kiss you or throw you off this bridge.”
“Can I pick?” Taeyong replies smugly as he pushes his face closer to Jaehyun’s, because apparently the concept of personal space doesn’t exist between them anymore.
Jaehyun supposes it’s the former then. But before Taeyong can initiate, Jaehyun takes it upon himself and captures Taeyong’s lips for real this time, earning a happy shriek from the other. Jaehyun kisses him and realizes he finds Taeyong’s lips so addictive he wonders why the hell he hasn’t been doing that all this time.
When they break apart, Taeyong looks so contented that Jaehyun steals another one last kiss from him because why the hell not?
“Do you want to celebrate over ice cream?”
“Jaehyun, it’s literally freezing.”
Jaehyun shrugs then winks. “Then I will just have to warm you up when we get home.”
Taeyong throws his head back to laugh, the sound bright and clear and airy, and Jaehyun grins, peppering his face with light kisses. “You better keep that energy until we get home after we eat ice cream, like you had suggested.”
“Or we can just skip the ice cream part,” Jaehyun says, lifting him off to carry him on his shoulder all the way back to the car. Taeyong shrieks happily and yells for him to put him down but Jaehyun doesn’t let go.