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"You've been beating yourself up again with your dance practises, haven't you?"
Juyeon's gentle touch over the reddish bruises of his knee sends shivers all down his spine, and he shrinks between the elder's strong arms as he buries half of his pretty face in the water in a shameless attempt of avoiding to actually give him an answer. Juyeon, either way, has asked it more to himself than to Changmin, not expecting the younger to really give him any kind of useless explanation or speech about how he shouldn't worry that much about it. Because he already knows — Juyeon knows Changmin never listens, he knows Changmin always flies alone, by himself, like he has always done, like he will always do. But at the moment, sunk in the warmth of the bathtub, being both swollen by foam and lavender scented bath salts, he can't help it but care.
But deep down, maybe not that deep, he has always cared. Since the beginning, since much before the start of the mess they are now, since those times where everything was less complicated.
Changmin's smaller hand makes its way towards Juyeon's, and just as silly as Changmin is, his hand flagrantly tangles with the bigger one. Fingers playfully intertwined, dull and lazy strokes with his thumb along Juyeon's wet and hot skin. Changmin's gaze gets lost at the sight, wishing for time and the world and everything around him to stop, just to cherish this moment as much as he wants it to last.
"Juyeon-ah, if you could have a superpower, what would it be?"
He can't see the taller's face, but knowing Juyeon for almost six years now, he can perfectly picture in his mind his thoughtful expression: his brows slightly furrowed and parted lips as he seeks for the perfect answer, as he frequently tends to do. Changmin unconsciously draws stealthy lines on Juyeon's big palm — after all this time, he still finds himself staggered by the size difference of their hands, enchanted as how neatly they fit each other, just as if they were made match in Heaven, like puzzle pieces.
"Mind reading." The answer comes faster than Changmin has expected it to come, and as he finishes his non-existent masterpiece on his human canvas, Changmin clings to Juyeon's chest even more, that being possible. He feels his heart beats on his back — slow yet thumping, and for a short, fast second, he allows himself to daydream, to imagine those heart beats belong to him and just him as lavender fragrance fills his nostrils and heated steam blurs both his eyes and mind.
"Would you like to read mine?"
'That is the only reason why I want it', Juyeon intends to whisper, but he also wants to say it is not necessary for him to have that power to know what is on his mind. At the end, Juyeon opts to remain silent, because he no longer knows what he actually wishes or what he is actually capable of. He used to know what Changmin was thinking at any time, at any moment; he used to read him like an open book. Now, each and every night they spend together, when their eyes remain closed and tired, Changmin turns into a mystery Juyeon is not sure he is able to solve. Changmin, who used to be a diary without a safety lock, turned into a thriller book, and as Juyeon turns page after page, more difficult everything seems to fully understand.
"I would like to stop time." Changmin's voice comes faster than Juyeon's response to his previous question, and Juyeon wonders if he should feel somehow relieved for that or annoyed at the fact of not being able to finally face his inner concerns. Being realistic, when it comes to Changmin, it's difficult for him to get mad. Even if he tries.
"I can imagine all the shit you would pull off with that… but, honestly, I thought you'd pick something even worse, like being invisible or actually becoming the devil himself." The smile that crosses Changmin's face goes unnoticed by Juyeon, and as the smaller man keeps getting distracted now playing with Juyeon's large fingers between his own, the latest allows himself to fill his lungs with Changmin's captivating lime hair scent.
"I was about to get all emotional over this, but you took care of killing the mood. Thanks for nothing."
"Why the question?"
His shoulders lift and drop just as quickly in a small shrug. "Just being curious."
"You being curious is dangerous."
"Be honest: when am I not dangerous?" Touché.
"You're actually a softie, you just like playing the bad boy until I—"
"Ah, seriously…!" That hot pink that Juyeon has always loved seeing flashes in the younger's round cheeks and, as if he wasn't a grown man, Changmin covers his ears with his hands. Juyeon already misses their touch on his. "I suddenly lost my hearing capacity."
"See? You can't even face you like it when—"
"Juyo… Didn't you want the ability to read minds? Well, read mine now, I'll help you out: fuck off." A chuckle breaks in, and even though he doesn't want to, Juyeon feels how his chest tightens at how his name comes off of Changmin's mouth. It's something that always happens to him — whenever he is flustered or mad or just too sleepy to pronounce things correctly, Juyeon becomes Juyo. Sometimes he would wonder if Changmin does it on purpose or if he is cute even for small things like that.
"You're staying the night, right?" Juyeon feels kind of stupid after asking such an obvious thing. Changmin has already settled down on his side of the bed — the left one, right next to the wall. As he says, that way he won't be the first one to be taken away in case someone or something breaks into the apartment. Juyeon, being as skittish as he is, has always wondered why he lets the younger get away with everything he wants every single time.
Later on, he discovers it might be because he would do anything for the sake of Changmin's happiness. But, again, that's something he just pretends not to know.
"Don't I always do?" His voice comes out in a breath, soft and almost inaudible, and Juyeon nods even though Changmin cannot see him.
Not much long after becoming dried grapes, as Changmin likes to call wrinkled wet skin, Juyeon lies down in the darkness of the room. Next to him, an already fallen asleep Changmin peacefully sleeps under the tender look of Juyeon, who finds it more profitable to watch him dream since one of them is able to. Despite his eyelids feeling heavy, having some sleep doesn't seem like an option once his stressful mind starts its never ending and exhaustive work, this consisting on making his life miserable by creating fake and almost impossible to happen scenarios that even though they're just that, fantasies, they manage to make him feel, at least, the little happiness he can't find by the person next him.
Once Juyeon's eyes open and adjust to the daylight Changmin is, as expected, not there.
"I swear to God, Ji Changmin, what were you expecting to come out of this whole mess? Of course it was going to end like this! Ah, really," his best friend, Chanhee, crosses his arms over his chest with an exasperated look on his face, but Changmin can't blame him, even if he wants to, "you make me reach stress levels I wasn't aware I could even reach."
The soju bottle that rests over the table slightly trembles when Changmin bumps his head on it. Asking his friends to grab some drinks was supposed to make him feel more relaxed and easy minded, not more anxious than he already was before meeting with them. "Seriously, how was I supposed to know? You're also my friend and I haven't fallen in love with you. What's so different about Juyeon?"
There is a small silence in which Sunwoo and Chanhee look at each other, both of them asking with just his eyes two simple yet difficult questions. The first one being if Ji Changmin is, in reality, a toddler disguised as a twenty-four years old grown man, the second one is just them not believing how the right now messed up guy thought everything was going to be just fine after becoming fuck buddies with one of his best friends.
"That he fucks you? That he is sweet and takes care of you? I don't know, hyung, you tell me. What could be different about it?" This is, how could it not, Kim Sunwoo the one to answer. Disbelief projecting in his eyes as he sips on his now almost warm beer. He takes note not to help Changmin out ever.
"All right, I get it!" With a tired sigh and a pout he doesn't know is there, Changmin checks his phone to face the accumulated texts and missed calls he has been ignoring. All of them belong, of course, to Juyeon. "I'm dumb, stupid and so on, yeah, I know. But acknowledging this is not going to solve this mess I've gotten myself into."
Chanhee, acknowledging himself as the one with the brain cells within his group of friends, rolls his eyes and straightens in his seat while changing to serious mode, "all right, Jichang, first things first. This is not a problem, all right? He is your friend, after all. I don't see why he would get mad at you if you tell him how you feel."
"It's not about getting mad, it's about making everything… awkward." The picture displayed as his lock screen looks right at him, as if the smiley Juyeon that appears on it next to him could see through him into his soul. That familiar nostalgic feeling he has been experiencing for the past two months invades him suddenly, without a warning so he can prepare himself for the tears he's been holding back for way too long to even remember, and Changmin wants to blame it on the alcohol, even if it usually doesn't really have any effects on him. "I don't want anything to change between us."
"Then don't tell him." Sunwoo rests his chin on the palm of his hand, eyes turned soft as if he is able to read his elder's heart. "You don't have to tell him, hyung. Just tell him you want to stop with the sex, look for an excuse or whatever. There's no need to force yourself into telling him about how you feel."
"What if he gets tired of me if there is no sex between us?"
It hurts him to hear such words coming out of his hyung, it pains his heart. Reaching his hand over the table, Sunwoo takes Changmin's and gives it a soft squish. "That won't happen, dumbass. But if it does, then he is not the friend you thought he was."
Sunwoo's words seem to always find a way to comfort him, and Changmin feels his body relax the same way his stressed mind does. Chanhee, sitting next to Sunwoo, sighs as he takes a rice cake from the fresh made tteokbokki that has finally arrived. "I think you should be honest with both yourself and Juyeon, Changmin-ah, but do as you feel."
"I think I've messed everything up." Those are the first words he mutters —to himself, if Jaehyun must say— after a few hours at Sun&Moon and some shots of soju on his body. Surprisingly to everyone, Juyeon is not the type to be good at enduring alcohol. Or his feelings.
The night has fallen over the streets of Seoul like a cold blanket in December, and the only thing that keeps Juyeon's body warm is alcohol and the raging feelings he didn't know he could hold inside him. The rain is pouring outside Sun&Moon, and the faint sound almost prevents him from hearing his own voice, although he is not quite sure if it's his actual voice or his mind playing games with him. Considering the ridiculous amount of soju he has drunk Juyeon thinks it's amusing the state he finds himself in — oscillating between looking pathetic and very much pitiable.
"And why is it that you think so?" Younghoon is focused on something in his phone, maybe not being aware of the seriousness in his friend's tone. Juyeon pays it no attention.
"Is this about Ji Changmin?" Juyeon nods and Jaehyun clicks his tongue, because what could have gotten Juyeon in such a depressing mood if not the boy that lives in his mind rent free? "What's going on with him? Now that I think about it you haven't talked about him in a while. Which is kind of concerning, taking account of how much you talk about him."
"That's 'cause there is nothing to talk about." Younghoon lifts his gaze, now interested and a little concerned. Jaehyun blinks, not really understanding. Juyeon just sighs. "Like, literally. Nothing."
"I think I'm missing something. What do you mean?"
"What I mean is that he's been ignoring me. Kind of. Maybe." He frowns, realizing not even himself is sure about what the hell is going on, but he quickly shakes any strange idea off. "Since he told me he wanted to stop being friends with benefits he's been… weird? I don't know, but I can tell he's been ignoring me or at least trying to."
"Why would he do that?" Jaehyun asks with a surprised expression drawn in his face, like he has known Changmin all his life and wouldn't expect him to do such a thing. Younghoon grins and takes his enormous beer glass to take a sip.
"Isn't it obvious?" He states, grin not disappearing, and drinks of his glass. Juyeon and Jaehyun just stare at him in silence, believing their friend must be already drunk or simply out of his mind. "Don't look at me like that, jeez! It's obvious that he likes you, for God's sake, Juyeon."
"There is something wrong about your logic, you know, Younghoon-ah? Is it ignoring a new way of expressing your feelings and no one told me about it?" Jaehyun holds the urge to laugh out of respect for Juyeon, but Younghoon's frown yells at him to shut up and Juyeon's saddened eyes shut down his own amusingness.
"Jaehyun hyung is right, hyung. It doesn't really make sense. At all. Changmin… I think he just got tired of me, that's all."
Younghoon wants to say something else, something that can save the night and maybe give some hope to his friend, but he chooses to remain silent just for a little while more.
The night proceeds moderately normally, almost like any other time they've hung out together. Jaehyun tells three or four dad jokes after his fourth beer, and Juyeon starts to smile a little wider thanks to the shots Younghoon almost forces him to take in. All are laughs and music and stories they share to always let the embarrassing memories of their past —and not that past— remain alive. But fun never lasts, not too long, at least, and the night is not as young as they say, either, so at some point between one or two in the morning the three young men have to leave.
The delicious smell of sweet potatoes is now left behind, just to be replaced with that stench of fresh rain and wet city that impregnates his nostrils the second they step outside. The streets are almost empty — just a few people coming back home and the lonely street lights brightening their way home in case they might get lost or scared. The coldness of an ending year strikes Juyeon like a bat, yet not as hard as Changmin's cold shoulder had hitten him before.
"Juyeon-ah, think about it, all right? Just try to talk to him." Are Younghoon hyung's last words to him. Once Jaehyun is home and Juyeon has arrived safe and sound to his, thanks to Younghoon himself, who has been kind enough all night bearing with his sentimental bullshit and now his annoying and too weak to deal with alcohol ass.
All Juyeon can say is thank you, and all he can do is hug him before entering the loneliness he calls home. And the thing is Juyeon has always known he shouldn't lean on others too much because, at the end, home does not feel like home anymore when Changmin is not there to give meaning to it.
Juyeon checks the watch on his wrist — a SEIKO Prospex his father gifted him for Christmas a couple of years ago, maybe two or three, he doesn't accurately remember the date for a gift he should feel attached to. Staring at the small and elegant handles, Juyeon slightly frowns at the realization that they haven't moved much since he last checked not more than two minutes ago. It's 7:11PM, the sun settled not much after he arrived and coldness gently succumbs over Hongdae's half empty streets. The twenty-four years old man shrugs his shoulders in order to find some warmth inside his coat, and if it wasn't for the big, hot cup of Starbucks coffee resting on his right hand, he swears he could freeze and die in a blink.
Dance practice should have been over ten minutes ago, and when he is about to enter the large building where Changmin holds his classes to try and look for him, of course he finds the latter in the same place as always. In front of the large dirty mirror, Changmin is the only one left, as he always is. Juyeon is not surprised in the slightest when he sees him giving his all for an invisible audience that won't even applause once the show comes to an end, a heart-wrecking scene Juyeon thought he was over a long time ago, when he started treating Changmin's scratches, giving him "embarrassing cartoon bandaids" and caring for him more than he did for himself.
"Juyeon?"
Juyeon loses his faculty to form words, not knowing if it is because of Changmin's messy hair, the sweat that bathes his toned body, the naivety of his eyes or the fact that he doesn't look as pleased as he thought he would be. Through that dirty mirror that watches Changmin practice until he is out of breath, Juyeon stares at the reflection of the younger one. The younger one, being Changmin, looks back at him. Through the mirror, of course, because he is simply too much of a coward to face a flesh and blood Juyeon, standing behind him like the ghosts that haunt him since he started feeling regretful. When Juyeon feels his throat getting dry and cold, he decides to become a normal human being once again, he approaches the shorter to hand him the cup of coffee — a now not-so-hot Caramel Macchiato. Changmin can't stand the bitterness of black coffee.
"Thought you'd need it." It's all he says, and the instant Changmin's typical beautiful smile appears, even if it's just out of politeness, his features soften and Juyeon feels like breathing again.
He hates it — the influence Changmin has over him.
"You really didn't have to," he starts, taking between his hands the cup, "but thank you, Juyeon-ah."
The silence that proceeds is awkward, uncomfortable, and that's something neither of them are used to. Usually, when the room falls silent, the two boys don't really mind. In fact, they kind of enjoy it — the complicit staring and concealed touching, the conversation without the need of actually forming words. Now all there is left is just that. Silence. Nothing. Not even acknowledging looks, just elusive eyes and incomprehensible feelings that will never see the light.
It makes Changmin's heart ache, to see them this way. Acting like strangers that have known each other for six years, acting as if none of them knew exactly what were the other's deepest secrets. And here it is, again, that feeling, voice or whatever it is that tells him, yells him, to run to Juyeon's arms and never let him go.
"Remember when we used to dance together?" Changmin lifts his gaze from the ground, but doesn't dare look directly at Juyeon's eyes if it's not through that dirty mirror that prevents him from dealing with his deepest fears, those he's not even sure he has, those he doesn't even know yet or those that were made up.
And how could he forget, Changmin thinks, when those times have provided him the most precious memories. It was thanks to this old dance studio that he was lucky enough to meet Juyeon, and sometimes, if not every single second of his mundane life, Changmin wishes to go back to that time, when they were just two dorks with nothing to fear and everything to give. Because sometimes being dumb is not that bad, and Changmin misses that teenager in him that wasn't afraid of acting as he felt.
"What happened to us, Changmin-ah?"
Juyeon could say a thousand more things, he could ask endless questions and seek innumerable answers that could make his heart feel less burdened, more at ease. But he doesn't want to pressure Changmin onto nothing and he doesn't really find the necessary strength to not make his voice crack the exact moment he speaks. It's no secret Juyeon is the sensitive type, but he rather not give away any sign of breaking at any moment.
A light bulb twinkles above them, the first one next to the entrance, Juyeon knows by heart, and Changmin sits with his knees on his chest — the Caramel Macchiato now resting besides him as the dancer chews the inside of his cheeks. Juyeon takes enough courage to sit next to Changmin, not looking at him but perfectly knowing what he thinks or the cute gestures he does when he doesn't know what else to do. The wooden ground is dirty with Changmin's and strangers' sweat, something Juyeon would find unpleasant if it wasn't for the fact that he is used to that sensation; the atmosphere feels hot, heavy, and Juyeon dares to say it is because of them and not a the exercise that has been done not much before he arrived.
"I was about to tell you there was nothing wrong, but I can't lie to you, can't I?" Changmin smiles a sad smile, and Juyeon finds himself imitating him as he lets his head take a little rest on the mirror behind him. For the first time in the last couple of months, Changmin looks at him properly, and although that's what all Juyeon has been craving for, the pain behind his eyes seems to be unbearable for him. "Juyo… would it be too selfish of me to ask you to wait? To be patient with me?"
That late December evening Juyeon leaves Crecker Studio without many answers, if not any. He gets to learn that Crecker tends to last way too long to fix light bulbs, that the cleaning service schedule is still programmed for any day that it's not Friday and that his name sounds better when it comes as Juyo, from Changmin's mouth and when he does say it on purpose.
January arrives freezing and without a happy new year to greet him. He spends the New Year's eve as per usual, with his family back in Gwangju and a pretty filled up glass of wine that manages to make him survive the night. If it was a normal year, he would laugh and play around with his little cousins, he'd be that funny uncle a toddler sees barely twice a year but recalls as their favourite and, maybe, he would even come up with a brand new recipe he has found somewhere in the internet just to burn it to nothing but ashes, but, of course, everyone would just laugh it off and think how nice and familiar is the Lee Juyeon.
But it's not a usual year and Juyeon is not playing around with the Xbox or pretending to be a horse so a five year old could ride him while laughing outrageously as he gets back pains. This year greets him with a thousand texts he does not care about because none of them are Changmin's. The wine, which work was supposed to make him forget even if it's just a little, has had some kind of reverse effect, so instead of forgetting about everything that troubles him (Changmin), he is doing the exact opposite thing — fancy glass in hand and free hand supporting the heavy weight of his tiredness, Juyeon awaits for a text he knows won't be there when he checks his phone again
The bitter taste of the wine brings back memories he persuaded himself to believe he didn't want to recall, such small details Juyeon feels pathetic for even remembering, and all of them, obviously, related to Ji Changmin.
His twisted brain decides to start from the beginning, back when they were freshmen in college, in the same major, with almost the same hobbies and the same amount of complicity. Those days were all they'd do was dance and go out on what he liked to call buddy dates, eat junk food and stay up playing games all night. Now that Juyeon thinks about it, he doesn't truly comprehend how it was that everything changed and why. At first, the idea of having occasional sex with Changmin without any type of commitment or relationship aside being friends didn't really convinced him, but the idea of having that proximity and intimacy with him felt kind of attracting to him for some reason he didn't really understand back then. So he just shrugged it off.
Great idea, dumbass, he thinks, wishing he is actually thinking and not speaking out loud like he does when he drinks.
Juyeon thinks of timing as well — of how stupid he has been to acknowledge his feelings when there is not much more left he can do. It causes him physical pain that he missed the opportunity to be honest with Changmin and his own feelings. It hurts him that all he did was take advantage of that carnal proximity to feel like there was something more. And now he is left with nothing but a bunch of regrets and cheap red wine instead of white, which Changmin had teached him to be much better. And, of fucking course, he was right.
With January comes his twenty-fifth birthday as well, Juyeon has forgotten, and just like he wasn't eager about celebrating the new year, he is not much enthusiastic about this either. His friends have been blasting their group chat with plenty of incredible and funny ideas to celebrate his new and one less year of life, and Juyeon tries each and every time another text pops up in his phone to decline them as kindly as he can. Being as depressed as he feels the last thing he wants is to ruin everyone's fun, so the best option is to just spend it alone where no one can catch that virus of him called being stupidly in love and not doing a single thing about it.
However, Juyeon is Juyeon, so kind and so… Juyeon that he lets himself be dragged to a whole party at Youngjae's, if you can call a whole party a few close friends and various types of liquors scattered over the dining table. The first thing that crosses Juyeon's mind is to take note of watering his plants once he is back home in two hours.
"C'mon, man, you can't be crying over Ji Changmin your whole life," but the truth is: he can, "I mean, there are a lot of fishes in the sea, right? Just take your boat and go fishing."
Juyeon is almost a hundred percent sure Youngjae is, by now, more drunk than he himself has ever been in his twenty-five years of life. They're resting on the black leather sofa that has witnessed so many things along their friendship, Juyeon with an untouched beer in his hand whilst Youngjae holds his who the hell knows glass of whatever that mix was. It hasn't been that long since the party started and Juyeon is already planning going home, not even being able to imagine how good must it feel to lie over his recently washed blankets.
"What if I only want him?" He whispers, loud enough for Youngjae to hear him over Sweet Chaos playing in the background.
"Then what the fuck are you doing here, dude?" Youngjae exclaims as he aggressively stands from the couch. Juyeon blinks and attempts to say something, but he is so taken aback that his mouth closes again. "Get the hell out of here and don't ever dare to come back without your man! "
Juyeon understands English, so he gets everything Youngjae has yelled at him with his american accent and that little touch of drunkenness — but he doesn't understand what on Earth is going on, and when he lets out a confused "what?", Jaehyun can be heard from the other side of the living room: "Go!"
And so he does.
The first place where he looks for him is his shared apartment with Choi Chanhee. Once he arrives he is welcomed with the fatidic news that he is not home and that he left a few hours ago without any type of explanation. What first crosses Juyeon's mind at this information is the wonder of where could Changmin have gone and what he could be doing outside this late at night that doesn't involve being with Chanhee. Truth be told, he feels a little selfish for thinking this way since Changmin is not his to worry about his whereabouts, but the simple thought of the younger boy being around someone that is not him this late, meeting people and falling in love with someone that is not Lee Juyeon… it makes something inside his intestines twist, and for a night, even if it's just one and not more, he wants to be a little egoistic.
The second place he thinks of is the dance studio. Being one of the choreographers, Changmin tends to visit the building at the most strange hours for the most strange reason, being them just the need to dance or when he needs a break of everything around him. Having in his possession a copy of the studio's keys, Changmin has total access to it, so is no wonder Juyeon has thought of it as a possible choice when it comes to his comfort place. Unluckily for him, twice in a row, the large building remains engrossed in darkness as none of the lights are on and twinkling as they always do.
And then Juyeon gives up, because how is he supposed to find Changmin when he is not even answering his calls or texting back. Juyeon takes that as the sign that tells him Changmin is just gone, and as fast as he started running on his search, Juyeon stops the track of his already tired feet. His breath feels heavy and his shoes are hurting his toes, January's cold is merciless on him and his throat feels dry and itchy, but nothing hurts Juyeon more than the thought of giving up what once was his source of happiness.
The way home feels like a fallen soldier coming back after going to a nonsense war, and as if Juyeon's life hasn't seemed as tragic as it could seem, the first snow begins its fall.
Juyeon is exhausted, not even himself knowing if mentally, emotionally, physically or all of them at once, so he just drags his feet or lets his feet drag him wherever they feel like going to. He is not sure of anything anymore, but when he enters the door code of his apartment, when he takes off his coat and shoes and turns on the lights… Juyeon discerns a small figure sitting on the edge of his bed.
"Ji Changmin."
Said person shoots his head up at the mention of his name, and by the way his eyes glow as he looks at him, Juyeon already feels like he is born again.
"Juyeon-ah," he mutters as he stands on his feet. Changmin protects his hands from the cold hiding them in the pockets of the big, dark coat he is wearing, which Juyeon recognizes as his. This view produces some kind of thing Juyeon didn't know he has missed that much. "I, uh, sorry. I don't know if it's okay for me to be here but… I… I wanted to wish you a happy birthday and I didn't know where you were and my phone died and—"
Juyeon shuts him up with his lips. Changmin is taken aback at first, but he doesn't last in closing his eyes and letting himself get carried away by Juyeon's taste, a taste he was desperate of tasting again.
"I love you," Juyeon says against his mouth, "fuck, Changmin, I love you."
Changmin giggles on the kiss, and Juyeon has missed that endearing sound so fucking much that it tickles in his ears and makes his stomach a fest of every feelings and words he has been repressing along all these years. At some point Changmin breaks the kiss — Juyeon is about to wine like a child that has been robbed of his candy, but the younger's hands rest on his cheeks and Changmin is looking at him with such a gaze filled with feelings he now understands that he shuts his mouth.
"Juyo," Changmin starts and an automatic dumb simle appears in Juyeon's face, "ah, quit that smile, I can't concentrate like this." Juyeon changes his face to a neutral one, making Changmin laugh the only way he can. "Tell me… Is it too late to say that I love you too, Juyo?"
"Is it too late to ask you to date me?"
"You must've read my mind, 'cause I wasn't leaving without a boyfriend."
There again, the stupid smile is back — Changmin is quick to erase it with another kiss as Juyeon lifts him and carries him to his bed. They've kissed plenty of times, they've had sex even more, but Changmin is just there, lying under his body with that flustered eyes of his looking anywhere but him and his cheeks tinted with a pretty shade of pink he doesn't usually sees on him. And it suits him so bad that Juyeon would not mind at all to see him this way more often. If he had known confessing his feelings would have made Changmin look that pretty and all just because of him, Juyeon would have confessed ages ago.
But Juyeon's appreciation for his now boyfriend soon comes to an end when Changmin uses his strength (that strength Juyeon had forgotten Changmin's small body hides) to climb on top of him. The pretty boy that now shackles Juyeon under his gaze takes off his coat, and the sight of his numb eyes looking down on him while his chest rises and falls due to his shaky breath makes Juyeon forget how to breathe by himself. He wants to help him out. He wants to reach out his hands and undress Changmin like all those times he's done before, but Changmin has always been one to get things done his way and today is no exception.
"Juyeon-ah…" Changmin's voice comes out in that dark tone he loves, and when he finally can't take control over his hands, that reach out in a desperate attempt of touching Changmin, the younger pushes them away. "I want to cuddle tonight."
It's stupid, Juyeon thinks, the way he let's Changmin tease him and do whatever he wants. It's stupid the way they smile at the same time, the same way, over the same stupid feelings. It's stupid that it took him almost seven years of his life to clear both his heart and mind. It is as well stupid that now, as he lies under the softness of his recently washed blankets, holding his happiness between his arms the way he's been wishing to, they are able to admire the first snow of the year through the window of his room.