Work Text:
Junhui and Minghao walked along the path, lightly covered by fallen snow, their steps leaving shallow footprints that would soon be swallowed up. They had decided to take a walk, at Minghao’s suggestion, normally Jun would’ve declined, but looking outside at the sight of the lights making the air look thick with fog-like powder, and the sizable amount of snow building up, sitting precariously on thin, bare tree branches, it seemed too good of an opportunity to waste. No one would have walked on the ground yet, making the freshly fallen snow only for them to take the first steps on. The snow, still soft like flour, softened the every sound, and it was peacefully quiet.
Minghao had walked far ahead of Jun without noticing, eagerly taking in the sight of the street lights lighting the path, painting the ground with a yellow hue, that when blended with the snow that reflected the color of the blue sky, created an almost pink tint. Jun decided to take it slow, taking in things lightly, while other things were clouding his mind.
Junhui stopped in his tracks.
After a few seconds, Minghao noticed he could no longer hear the other’s footsteps, and he turned around,
“What are you doing?”
Junhui stood there for a second, moving his eyes away from the few stars that could be seen in the dark sky. He looked over at Minghao’s face, studying it, and smiled softly, before walking to Minghao, while taking off his gloves. Minghao was still looking at him confused, not used to seeing his friend looking so contemplative, before Jun cupped his warmed hands over Minghao’s fiery red ears, which had been bothering Jun to see. Minghao’s ears felt ice cold under his palms.
Minghao stared at him with slightly widened dark brown eyes, tilting his head questioningly. His nose and cheeks were rosy from the cold. His face was being pressed together slightly by Jun’s palms, giving him a pouty expression. Junhui couldn’t help but smile even wider, finding Minghao cute.
He’s always had such a soft spot for Minghao, he couldn’t help but smile himself whenever he saw him smiling, it was contagious. He loves how cute he is when he gets frustrated, and when he becomes flustered. He later found it was fondness, fondness he felt, he adores him. But at some point it became something different, he realized he was attracted to him, and attraction mixed with fondness became something else. It hit him like a truck, it was something he wished never happened, something he wished he could erase. But he just couldn’t.
Winter made it more difficult to bear, he had to be around him constantly, suppressing urges to kiss his forehead, or pat him on the head. Too much time indoors, too much time to think. Time felt still in winter, he couldn’t have his ease of mind.
Minghao just stared at Junhui, not saying anything, finding Jun’s face unreadable.
“What if I told you,”
Junhui breathed out,
“I love you.”
Minghao’s expression was still, then, when the words finally hit him, his eyes widened, his whole body shaking once as his breath hitched, a white cloud leaving his open mouth. He stared into Junhui’s dewy eyes for a while, racking his brain for something – anything – to say.
“H-How could that be?”
Junhui didn’t know what expression he himself was making. He just studied Minghao’s reaction. His face almost held a pity, it kind of looked like he was going through the five stages of grief simultaneously. He couldn’t do this. Jun let his hands slide down off of Minghao’s ears to his shoulders, letting out a scoff at himself, before bursting into laughter. Minghao seemed frightened by this. Jun grinned cartoonishly at Minghao.
“Just kidding.”
Minghao stood there, processing, his expression slowly switching from shock, to confusion, to anger. Minghao made a growl-like sound deep in his throat, and, clenching his teeth, glaring daggers at Junhui, he bent down, picking up snow, and pelted it at Junhui, hitting the side of his face with a loud thump.
Junhui let out an “AH!” and held his hand over his cheek, grimacing at the pain, before he started cackling, a wide smile on his face.
On their way back, he lifted his head to stare up at the sky, at the stars, snowflakes coming to rest on his face, before quickly melting into nothing. Maybe he could leave those words out in the beginning of winter, and when the snow comes, let them get covered in snow. Then, by the time spring comes, and the snow melts, let them be washed away into a nearby river, or evaporate into the air, never to be heard by him again. Never to speak those words to him again. For he felt now it was selfish of him to say. If it troubles the one he cares for so deeply, he’s come to the conclusion to keep it to himself, and hope that one day these feelings will disappear, too.