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“Okay but what if I don’t want to learn Chinese at three in the morning on a Tuesday, have you considered this?” Jisung pleads.
“No,” Chenle concludes, in Chinese. Jisung groans and turns onto his stomach. He waits a few seconds before pretending to snore which makes Chenle swat at his butt and Jisung yelp, flipping over back onto his back.
“Korea.”
Jisung makes a face, “Korea,” he says in Korean. “Pick better words at least.”
Chenle thinks for a second, “Pilot.” He recites from his own vocabulary words he did years ago.
Jisung says bartender so confidently that Chenle can’t help but laugh so hard that Jisung has to smack him to get him to stop. He apologizes even if they both know he isn’t sorry.
“Lawyer.”
“Lawyer.”
“Baker.”
“Uh, farm- no! Baker.”
Chenle reaches up to ruffle his hair.
They go back and forth for ages, ending up tangled in each other, lying down on Jisung’s bed, the time does pass faster. Chenle thought it had to be impossible to like anyone more, be any more fond of someone, but he’s proved wrong once again by the huge grin that spreads across the younger’s face when he gets a word right. Chenle giggles loudly when he gets something wrong, and Jisung turns red, covering his face with his hands as always.
Jisung hesitates, “O-Ocean?”
Chenle makes a face and pinches Jisung’s knee that’s pressed against his own. “No, sea.”
“What? How is that different?”
“I dunno,” Chenle says quietly, a smug look on his face, “Just is.”
Jisung rolls his eyes, “If you don’t know then maybe you shouldn’t be giving me lessons.”
Chenle gasps in fake horror and moves to the side so Jisung topples over a little, earning him a look of fake betrayal mirroring his own look. Chenle has his face pressed to Jisung’s hip, if he turned just a little he’d have his cheek pressed against his bare stomach. Chenle tries not to let his heart race but is probably failing miserably.
“I like you,” he says. Jisung blows air from his nose like he’s heard something funny. “You like me?”
“Good.”
“Good? The first time you’re praising me, and it’s because I got that right? That’s so easy!”
Chenle stays quiet, feeling Jisung’s hands wander over his back. He can feel the warmth through his thin t-shirt. He blinks a few times, staring at the sheets.
“You are really good at this, even if I’m making fun of you.”
Jisung hums in defeat and mumbles something about there being too many words and Chenle knows that, and he does.
It’s a stupid risk, even if he doesn’t understand, he’s smart enough to look it up later. A confession shouldn’t be done this way. It seems to seep out of Chenle anyway. He’s never been too good at hiding his fondness. The looks the others give him across the room when the two interact. The complaints from them when he does something for Jisung that he doesn’t do for the rest of them. All brushed off, blame placed on supposed maknae privilege.
Mark is perceptive though, more than most. Chenle asks Jisung to come home with him when he reveals he has no plans for their quote-unquote vacation. A week-long break from recording and shooting, conditional so that the company can decide anything is important enough to interrupt them. Mark texts him on their third day there, almost like an interrogation.
Chenle guesses that if you wait so long for the right moment to say something, it may never come. For a while that meant to him that he must not do it at all. If the universe has decided there will be no right time, then there’ll never be a right time. After a long talk with Renjun on a rooftop somewhere he can’t remember, he’s begun to think otherwise.
“I like you so much.”
Chenle’s introspection had put them in silence for a longer moment than usual. Jisung had quit paying attention, probably lost in his own mind as well. Chenle feels their chests vibrate together when Jisung hums, asking for a repeat.
“I like you so much.”
“So much? Is that what that means? More? I like you more?” Jisung mumbles, playing with the strings of his hoodie. Chenle is pretty sure it originally belonged to himself, but he’s lost track by now. Chenle slides his hand across Jisung’s stomach, pushing his hoodie up even more, exposing more of his skin. He nods as best he can with his chin still pressed into Jisung’s hip.
“To which one? I said like, four things.”
Chenle snickers, “The first one, so much.”
Jisung hums. They go quiet again. Chenle moves his face down and presses his nose to Jisung’s skin. Which makes Jisung’s breath shutter, as hard as he’s trying to stay cool. He turns his face and lets his cheek rest against the younger’s stomach. He can hear Jisung’s heartbeat, racing almost as fast as his own now, only picking up speed. Chenle starts to feel a little less embarrassed for himself.
“Since we were kids.”
Jisung makes a cute confused noise that makes Chenle smile despite his fear.
“All I heard was kid I think”
“Correct.”
Jisung’s hand has reached the bottom of Chenle’s shirt, and he starts to fiddle with the hem of it.
“Renjun thought I was crazy. We hardly spoke the same language at first.”
Jisung tries to interrupt to tell him to go slower but realizes he’s maybe not supposed to, somehow.
“I mean, I probably am. But I like you way too much to care now, I think. I love you, too much. Probably.”
It takes a lot of strength to pull himself off of Jisung’s hip, but he makes himself do it anyway so he can look Jisung in the eye and do this semi-properly.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, I guess I was worried you’d distance yourself. You do that when you’re overwhelmed. I don’t want to overwhelm you.”
All Jisung has understood thus far is I like you, much, I think, I love you, I'm sorry, worry, I don’t want to. It’s a bit much, his mouth opens up in confusion, wanting to say something, but he isn’t sure what. How could he know?
“I’m telling you now though, even if this is a weird way to do it. Hope you aren’t too confused right now Jisung-ah.”
He leans down, pressing his hand to Jisung’s shoulder, putting him flat against the pillows. He hovers over the boy, clearly making him more nervous than he already is.
“I love you.”
“I- Chenle…”
“I love you, Jisung-ah.”
“I love you?”
“Don’t say it like a question.”
“Well, I- I don’t- Hyung…”
Chenle moves forward, inches away from Jisung’s face. He has pity and makes it simple.
“Kiss.”
“Kiss…”
Chenle tilts his head and raises his eyebrows, a question that doesn’t need to be translated.
“...Yes,” Jisung says, in Chinese. Chenle smiles so wide his cheeks hurt and then leans down to close the gap. Jisung’s hands freeze on his waist for a moment until the trance breaks and he kisses back, pulling at the hem of Chenle’s shirt again. Jisung makes pretty sounds in confusion and happiness, Chenle hopes. They kiss for what feels like an hour, but it’s only probably a minute or two before Chenle has to pull back to let the two of them breathe.
“Did you just confess to me in Chinese?” Jisung pants out.
Chenle grins against his lips, “Maybe.”
Jisung pokes his side, “Translate!”
“Study!” he says, kissing him again.
If Jisung were sane enough he’d make some comeback about how he can’t study if Chenle is distracting him like this, but Chenle bites down on his bottom lip, so he whines instead.