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Jeongguk pays for the food. A large pizza is in his arms, smelling of all things delicious, but something foul clogs his mind and he is unable to truly appreciate its goodness. A similarly foul sentiment touches his face, mars it with a frown. He lets himself express this quiet anger as he walks from the entrance towards his bedroom. The walk is awfully small, and Jeongguk’s mood is awfully off.
When he steps into the room, however, it melts off in an instant. One cannot be certain whether Jeongguk brightens because of the guest occupying his bed or for the guest occupying his bed. It is difficult to look Taehyung’s way and frown, in his defense, much like one cannot look at the sun without blinding.
“Smells good,” Taehyung mumbles, and his mumbling voice is a rumbling that begins from his chest and seeps into the room. Deep and quiet, as if underwater, as if they are underwater, this room is underwater. “Pineapple pizza?”
Jeongguk shuts the door behind himself. The noise it makes is warbled. Perhaps they truly are underwater in a deep darkness. This would explain the gloom in Taehyung’s eyes. “Fuck no.”
“Thank God.”
“Thank me, how about?”
“No, thanks,” says Taehyung, pupils following Jeongguk the moment he shows up in his vision. Jeongguk sets down the pizza beside him but Taehyung makes no effort to reach for it. “Waiting for the food killed my hunger, actually.”
“Don’t be lame,” Jeongguk sighs, sitting on the small spot left beside a sprawled Taehyung. Overgrown bangs catch onto his lashes but Jeongguk denies the urge to tidy him up. “Eat a little. Microwaved pizza tastes disgusting.”
“Don’t lie, microwaves just scare you. Just use the oven.”
“And catch on fire?”
“It’s not that dangerous.”
“You do it, then.”
Taehyung lets out a glum exhale, staring at the ceiling. His chest seems to seep into the mattress as if they were one and the same and he is no longer present. If Jeongguk were to touch him, there would be fabric and melancholy but not a person. “Maybe later. Don’t feel like moving, right now.”
“I can see that,” says Jeongguk. “It’s hot right now, anyway. Should I get you a plate?”
At this, Taehyung returns his gaze to Jeongguk. He does not utter a word, just watching, watching, watching, until he turns onto his side and buries into the bed, closer to Jeongguk, resting by his thigh. “I’ll puke,” he answers, muffled by the sheets. “And why the fuck are you offering me a plate? The box is right here.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Jeongguk says, following the curves of Taehyung’s undulating back. “Food always gets my mind off things. Food and entertainment, like I’m royalty.”
Taehyung chuckles into the bed. Jeongguk changed his bedsheets a month prior to something brown and beige and dark and light and has not had the chance to see Taehyung in them— on them. Relationships can catch up to people but Taehyung’s dragged him backwards. Every step towards Jeongguk’s door was ten steps in the other direction; they have not had the chance to meet very often. To run late night fast food trips. To dampening laughter in library halls. And especially not to lie in bed and gossip, but Jeongguk has since acclimated to the change. He supposes it is selfish to ask Taehyung for such devotion.
The sound of his chuckle is warm even when they are this deep underwater. Jeongguk smiles for a moment but lets it fall when he realizes how long he would have to wait to hear it again.
“I’m just…” Taehyung drawls, leaving a long, silent gap, “not feeling like royalty, what can I say?”
My King. “Your majesty,” Jeongguk says, “I won’t force you to eat the pizza.”
“Good. I’ll throw up on your bed, otherwise.”
“Don’t. I just got new sheets.”
“Oh, I noticed. They smell nice. They look good.”
Jeongguk blinks at him. He bites his lip and chews really, incredibly, painfully hard to keep his mouth from running amok when his mind is already doing so. The sheets do look nice. Decidedly better when Taehyung is draped across them with the collar of his loose shirt falling open. It is the glimmer of skin which Jeongguk spots when he responds, “Yeah, they do.”
Taehyung turns his head such that his cheek presses into the mattress. His goddamned hair would not stop falling into his eyes. He lazily tries to flick them out of his face but fails when they fall right back, and gives up. “You smell nice,” Taehyung says. “Nothing new, but I guess I just forgot how you smelled.”
Jeongguk swallows. He briefly glances away, gathering an answer. “I had sex on these sheets last night. That’s not me you’re smelling.”
“Hookups and Jeon Jeongguk cannot be used in the same sentence, and last I heard, you weren’t dating anyone. Quit lying.”
“Fine, fine. I’ll take the compliment. I know I smell good.”
Taehyung grins, a demonic tilt to the lip. He opens his one arm the best he can. “Come here, then,” he says, attempting to be creepy with the manner he wiggles his eyebrows but Jeongguk cannot take him seriously. “Give me a good sniff.”
Jeongguk wrinkles his nose. He can nearly smell his heart and ribs burning up into dust. “No, weird.”
“Just one hug, Jeonggukkie,” Taehyung hardly pleads, but Jeongguk is deeply moved by his beggary. “I haven’t hugged you in so long.”
The collar of his shirt drops lower. Jeongguk is careful to observe the way it slinks down, urged to do the same, to curl around Taehyung like this desperate piece of garment. This many leagues deep into the sea, one might assume any trace of warmth would vanish but sunlight touches even the deepest parts of the ocean, just as Taehyung wrings his arms around Jeongguk. He had always been aggressive with his hugs, but this one simply burns.
Jeongguk has to tamp down on an incredibly shaky inhale the moment he tucks his head into Taehyung’s nape. He worries briefly that Taehyung will feel the bass in his chest, but worrying is entirely pointless in his embrace.
He shuts his eyes, takes several more shaky inhales. He’s breathing him in, the soap he uses, the barely scented products on his skin. Taehyung can never stick to the same scent for too long. It is a few months of vanilla, a few months of pine, a few months of orange blossoms. It is the change that is hard to accept. It is the change that is terrifying, because there will exist some changed versions of Taehyung that Jeongguk never knew and will never know and he must resign to this fate as he dreams in Taehyung’s arms.
“Why doesn’t hugging her feel as nice?” Taehyung asks, faint, an embarrassed whisper. “Why is it always the same with you but always so cold with her?”
Perhaps if Taehyung would push Jeongguk a bit further away to gaze gently into his eyes, he would spot a fire raging in those irises. It keeps them warm and huddled underwater. Running out of oxygen but they breathe life into each other.
But he does no such thing. There will be plenty of time to look and gaze and quietly admire when the two of them have not spoken in years only to cross paths accidentally. Keeping him close, however, is a thing of the present. The now. The intent to keep the fire blazing so they do not drown.
“Maybe she doesn’t like the new soap you’re using,” Jeongguk answers, because they have had this conversation before, and Taehyung is seeking comfort more than he is answers.
Taehyung hums. “Maybe. You noticed I got different soap?”
“I’ve got a good nose.”
“Uhuh.”
“It’s stupid she wouldn’t recognise something like this.”
Taehyung’s laugh is small. “It’s just skin products, Jeongguk. I don’t think I should expect that much of people I date.”
Jeongguk’s heart grows even smaller. He could kiss and lick the scent right off of Taehyung’s body if he would let him. He would gift him millions worth of products if Taehyung would soothe them onto his skin and allow Jeongguk to guess what his fingertips smell of. He would fill Taehyung’s cupboard with those lip balms he likes and he would taste his mouth and guess the flavor. Eat the strawberry right off his lips. The jasmine off his chest.
But these are not Taehyung’s expectations. Perhaps beyond. Perhaps too much. Jeongguk screws his eyes shut harder and wonders how a hug could hurt and heal him at once.
“You should,” Jeongguk says, “you deserve it. You’ll find them.”
Taehyung need not look much further than in the bundle of his arms. But, to reiterate, Taehyung has never been much of a watcher anyway. It is why he is blind to the fire in Jeongguk’s eyes.