could we pretend that we're in love?

Big’s attempts at recreating moonwalk could not be called dancing, but Chan still smiled at them despite himself. He watched the younger spin and come up to desk, where their whisky still remained unfinished. Big picks up his glass and turns around, smiling at the older man sitting on the bed.

Light one up and hand it over, rest your head upon my shoulder

I just wanna feel your lips against my skin

Big finished the rest of his drink in one gulp and slowly comes back to bed, kneeling between Chan’s legs. The aftertaste is so strong it almost leaves a burn on his skin.

White sheets, bright lights, crooked teeth, and the night life

You told me this is right where it begins

Behind closed doors is where Big finally shows his toothy smile. It looks especially bright in the luminescent city lights, peaking from the curtain. Expression reserved only for this room.

But your lips hang heavy underneath me

And I promised myself I wouldn't let you complete me

Chan tries not to think about it too much. Not to make it a big deal. Calls it a stress relief. Pretends that it is easy to fall asleep when Big’s having a nightshift. Maybe just one more time and they can finally part ways.

I'm trying not to let it show, that I don't want to let this go

Is there somewhere you can meet me?

A lie. After the last time comes the final. Then the ultimate. Then the closing, the terminal, whatever. Pick as many synonyms as you want. The truth is, every time Big ends up in Chan’s room, the older keeps him there as much as he can.

'Cause I clutched your arms like stairway railings
…
And I try to refrain but you're stuck in my brain

Big is too much. His strength, his touches, his determination (and a little bit of desperation). It has to mean something. He has seen the younger acting on his emotions countless times, he knows what he feels at such moments. Chan is afraid that he feels way more.

And all I do is cry and complain because second's not the same

And after everything that happened between them, Big’s eyes still light up when he looks at Kinn. Just a little bit, difficult to notice for an untrained eye, but Chan sees it all. How the younger straitens his posture, adjusts his tie and the collar of his shirt. Chan wants to scream, punch something, drag Big away. But he only can stay there and listen to the orders.