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Chanhee couldn’t sleep.
It was those types of nights wherein whatever he tried doing, he just found it hard to sleep.
He drank tea, read a book, closed his eyes and focused on his breathing.
Nothing.
It all just kept him up all night.
He didn’t know if it was because of the thoughts that kept trying to infiltrate his mind, despite not wanting to think about it or the rain that was hammering down from the outside that kept him awake. All he knew was he couldn’t sleep.
The ache that was pounding in his head also didn’t help the situation.
He really just needed to sleep.
Sighing, he stood up from the bed, grabbed a jacket from the chair — how many jackets had he had lying on that? — grabbed his keys, and walked to his next door neighbor's room.
He stared at the closed door, feeling anxious. Even though this was… Chanhee couldn’t even count how many times he’d done this already.
Regardless, no matter how many times he had asked, he still felt a little shy being here. Even though Younghoon always assured him that if he ever needed help sleeping, then he should just go visit, it didn’t make it any less embarrassing for Chanhee to do so, causing him to hesitate in front of the door.
Biting the bottom of his lips, he eventually knocked. The guards looking through the cameras by the hall might find him suspicious if he kept standing there, if they haven’t found him suspicious yet having done this the past few days already.
“Come in,” Younghoon called from the inside.
Chanhee opened the door, seeing Younghoon smiling at him from where he was sitting in front of his computer.
He’s probably working already, Chanhee thought.
“You know it’s dangerous for you to keep your door unlocked this time of the night,” Chanhee muttered, still feeling awkward inside Younghoon’s place despite him being there multiple times now.
Younghoon grinned. “You’re the only one who knocks this time at night,” Younghoon answered. He stood up, locked the door to appease Chanhee before telling him that there was milk and yogurt in the fridge if he wanted something to eat.
“I bought some strawberries,” Younghoon said. “Thought you might want to add them to your yogurt.”
Chanhee froze where he stood, furrowing his brow in confusion.
“You bought me food?”
Now, Younghoon looked confused looking at him. “You always eat when you’re here,” he said, matter-of-factly, like that was something that they were supposed to know — something that Chanhee shouldn’t be questioning.
“Yeah, but I bring them,” Chanhee whispered.
Ironically, Chanhee hadn’t brought anything today, which, by the way Younghoon looked at his empty hands, Younghoon somehow knew.
He shrugged, walking back to his computer. “I just thought I’d buy you one today,” he said. “Just in case,” added as a whisper.
Chanhee kept himself still by the door, still not knowing what to do. This wasn’t the usual circumstance, so he wasn’t sure how to move forward. Seeing his hesitation, Younghoon cocked his head to the side and smiled knowingly.
“You can always make me a bowl as thanks,” he said.
Chanhee scoffed, hearing the request, but he was secretly glad he could do something for Younghoon for once. “You know you should learn to make your own food,” he mentioned, despite knowing that Younghoon could actually make his own food (he had cooked Chanhee pasta a few nights ago), but always insisting for Chanhee to make him some yogurt.
“But you mix it the best,” Younghoon argued with a pout. “You put all the ingredients in just the right amount so that it tastes so great.”
It wasn’t that great, Chanhee thought, biting the inside of his cheeks as he walked towards the fridge. Seeing him on the move, Younghoon eventually went back to his work.
It was almost 1am in the morning, and Chanhee almost forgot it was raining, filling his mind only with the sound of Younghoon’s voice, the thought of him smiling, and the fact that he had bought him food.
Something in his heart burst, but he wasn’t going to think about that now, not really knowing what to do with the feeling bubbling in his chest.
He finished the yogurt, and walked towards Younghoon’s desk.
“Here you go,” he said, careful to place it away where Younghoon might accidentally drop it. The older man just smiled, mouthing the words thank you.
“I’ll just finish encoding this and then I’ll read you a book,” Younghoon mentioned, gesturing to his set-up.
Chanhee shook his head.
“You don’t have to do this—” Chanhee started, only for Younghoon to interrupt him, shaking his head.
“You can’t get rid of me that easily, Choi Chanhee,” Younghoon mentioned, scooping a spoonful of his yogurt, and excitedly eating it.
I wouldn’t want to be rid of you, Chanhee thought, but shook his head to remove the thought away as he walked towards the living room, resting his bowl of yogurt on the table. As he ate, he got reminded of the day this whole thing started in the first place.
It was one of those nights. Always one of those nights.
Chanhee couldn’t sleep. He’d been having such a hard time sleeping lately, and though the school physician said sleeping pills do help, Chanhee didn’t want to depend on it. Besides, after taking a few, the efficiency seemed to have worn out.
It just wasn’t working, and Chanhee just wanted to sleep.
He ended up turning on the university radio station on his phone.
Maybe music would help. Besides, he hadn’t tried those before.
His friends told him that the sound of light rain might help him sleep, but those just paranoid him. Rain was scary Just imagining it pelting down your head made Chanhee uncomfortable. So instead of ASMR nature sounds, he supposed music would allow him to sleep.
It was worth a try anyway.
But instead of music, something else played.
“So, for our next story,” a cough. “Dear Mr. Kim—” the host started. “That’s convenient seeing as I’m Kim Younghoon.”
Chanhee furrowed his brow for a second. Why would the host question being called Mr. Kim? Wasn’t he running this thing?
It was probably a shifting kind-of-work, wherein the people submitting the stories probably didn’t know who was on air the moment they shared the letter. He shook his head. He was overthinking again.
“My boyfriend and I have been together for four years now. Yes, we’re “that” couple who’s been together since we were in high school, and though I do love him and I love our relationship, I wonder if I’m allowed to change. You see—”
Chanhee let the host continue reading. He rested his head at the dashboard of his bed, and closed his eyes, focusing on listening.
Chanhee woke up from the sound of birds flying by his window.
He jumped, realizing that it was already morning.
When had he fallen asleep?
He looked around the room, stretching the muscles around his shoulder, and rotating his neck to not cause them to stiffen. He had fallen asleep sitting down, and it was definitely uncomfortable, but that wasn’t what’s filling Chanhee’s head.
It was the fact that he had fallen asleep in the first place. Not only that, but it had been one of the best sleep he had in days. He didn’t even thrash around, or even manage to wake up through it all.
He tried to relieve the night before. What had he done differently? How had he been able to fall asleep?
Was it the radio show he was listening to? Or had his body just shut down, finally allowing him to rest?
The answer wasn’t something Chanhee could mull about that morning. Not only was his phone dead (it ran out of battery after being left on the radio station for the whole night), but he was also running really late. He couldn’t think about this now.
Though the theory still wasn’t proven true, it was the only thing he really had going on for him. He turned on the radio station again — this time on his tablet so that his phone wouldn’t die on him, and have it ring an alarm the next day — the hour before he had put it on the day before.
For the first forty-five minutes, only music was playing. It was a variety of songs, from theater songs, classic music, instrumental (probably the variety of music that the College of Music would compose), to more popular music choices. It was a weird bunch but he guessed that was what would happen if the students were in charge of the radio station.
After a violin cover of Red Velvet’s Psycho played, Chanhee heard his voice again.
“ Hello everyone,” he started. “It’s Kim Younghoon here again. Unfortunately, my friend is still on vacation so I’m still covering for him. You better treat me to a whole meal Kim Sunwoo.”
Younghoon’s small laugh echoed in the quiet of Chanhee’s room.
So, he doesn’t stay, Chanhee thought, finding himself feeling sad about the idea. Still, it might just be the narrative of the show that made him sleepy. Maybe this Kim Sunwoo will help him sleep as well. He’ll just figure it out when the time comes.
“We have a lot of stories here today again. Don’t forget to log in to share your insights, or if you just want to listen, then make yourself comfortable. This story is from someone called—”
Chanhee let him drone on, this time lying down on the bed as he looked at the ceiling. He didn’t want to accidentally sleep in a sitting position again, so while he listened, he rested his head on the pillow, pulled his blanket over his chest and closed his eyes, hoping that his theory was correct.
Chanhee woke up feeling well rested despite the blaring of his alarm clock. He stretched his arms happily, and stood up from the bed ready to face the day.
Unfortunately, once the night came again, Younghoon was no longer the host, and Chanhee couldn’t sleep again. Though Sunwoo’s voice was great, and he had a funny way of narrating — just him being naturally humorous, Chanhee assumed — he didn’t have the same cadence as Younghoon had. For some reason, Younghoon had the ability to make Chanhee think about nothing but Younghoon’s voice, successfully pushing away the millions of thoughts in his head, and just planting one. To listen to him.
Chanhee knew he was screwed.
It was annoying to think that his ability to sleep depended on a person. It was even more annoying that said “person” was someone Chanhee didn’t even know. He knew his name and his school — seeing as it was the university radio station, he assumed Younghoon was probably a student in the university — but nothing else. Besides, there could be hundreds of Kim Younghoons in the university.
For a few nights he went back to his usual routine. He’d take sleeping pills, or drink tea. He even decided to reread his lengthy books or lengthy book series. In a week he had managed to reread both of Homer’s epics, the unabridged version of Les Miserables and even five books of Anne of Green Gables. It didn’t help.
“You look tired,” Changmin pointed out while they were having lunch.
“It’s because I am,” Chanhee said, starting with his food. Changmin still had his untouched, waiting for his “boyfriend” — with quotes because Chanhee wasn’t sure what they were at the moment; it was often confusing — to arrive.
“Haven’t been sleeping well, still?” Changmin asked.
Chanhee shrugged. “Third year is brutal,” he just replied, to which Changmin replied with a noise of agreement.
Soon enough, Juyeon finally arrived… with another man in tow.
Changmin’s smile turned upside down, a crease forming above his eyebrow at the sight of Juyeon’s companion, making Chanhee assume whoever was with Juyeon wasn’t someone Changmin knew.
“Hi,” Juyeon greeted Changmin, kissing the top of his head, oblivious to Changmin’s glare.
“This is my friend by the way, Kim Younghoon,” Juyeon introduced. The name made Chanhee raise his brow. He was curious of course, but he didn’t want to jump into conclusions. Again, there could be a lot of Kim Younghoons on the campus.
This couldn’t be his — and by “his” he meant that the man he was looking for and not someone he has an ownership on.
“Oh,” Changmin exclaimed, as Younghoon took a seat awkwardly beside Chanhee, keeping a safe distance away — the kind of distance wherein they won’t touch elbows when they eat.
“You’re Sunwoo’s friend,” Changmin said. “The writer?”
Now, Chanhee was even more curious. The similarity in names of two friends could just be a coincidence. With a hundred Younghoons, there could be as many Sunwoos and who's to say to people with similar names can’t have the same friends with another pair of people with the same name.
It didn’t mean—
“Yeah. The one and only,” Younghoon spoke.
Chanhee choked on his drink.
“Are you alright?” Younghoon asked beside him, lightly patting his back. If Chanhee wasn’t so aware of him, he wouldn’t even have noticed it.
Chanhee nodded his head. “Yeah,” he muttered once he finished coughing. “Just something stuck to my throat.”
He looked around the table to see Changmin giving him a curious eye, which Chanhee immediately dismissed by shaking his head.
Chanhee kept silent for the duration of the lunch, allowing himself to just listen to the conversation around the table. Though he listened, he couldn’t quite catch a word, too invested in Younghoon’s voice.
He couldn’t believe he found him.
Thank the world for being small, he thought.
“Oh, Chanhee,” Juyeon called, catching Chanhee’s attention, who was keeping himself busy playing with an uneaten pea on his plate. “Younghoon lives in your building,” Juyeon said.
Younghoon looked as shocked as Chanhee felt confused.
“Do you live at the sports complex? ”
(To clarify, the apartment Chanhee stayed in was often called the sports complex because the tenants were mostly athletes from the nearby college of sports. Not that it was an actual sports complex.)
“Yeah,” Chanhee said, still feeling confused but making sure his voice didn’t betray anything. “You do, too? I don’t think I’ve seen you around?”
Chanhee wanted to roll his eyes. There were a hundred people in that apartment building, and Younghoon might not even be sharing his floor. Even if he had known, he wouldn’t have seen him anyway. “I just moved in a month ago, actually,” Younghoon said. “And I barely go out of the house because I work at night,” he added.
“If you have the same free time you can go home together,” Changmin said.
And though Chanhee knew it was an innocent suggestion, he couldn’t help but think that the couple in front of him was planning something. Of course, that might just be Chanhee overthinking — and he did over think a lot.
“Yeah?” Younghoon asked, turning to Chanhee. “I’m just at the College of Arts and Literature if you want to go home together.”
Well, hooray, they even shared the same college.
Now, the only reason they actually ended up going home together was because they passed by each other at the front of the college. Chanhee wasn’t surprised he had never seen Younghoon in the college only because there are thousands of students, but also the department of literature was at the other side of the building, far from the department of digital arts.
But for whatever reason, the universe wanted them to meet again and here they were, four in the afternoon, the rain pelting down.
“Do you have an umbrella?” Younghoon asked beside him.
Chanhee nodded, removing the small pink umbrella from his bag — Chanhee had sisters who always made sure he had a pink umbrella in his bag which made him never forget to bring one, and made his umbrella resistant to theft because apparently no one really liked using a pink umbrella.
Chanhee passed it to Younghoon before even thinking.
“This is cute,” he said, with no shade of malice.
He opened the umbrella, putting an arm over Chanhee’s shoulder and pulling him closer towards him. Chanhee jumped from surprise, but thankfully, Younghoon didn’t seem to notice.
“How do you get home?” Younghoon asked.
“I mostly walk,” Chanhee said, feeling his voice tremble.
“Let’s walk then,” Younghoon said, leading him down the steps of the college, and onwards to their apartment complex.
It was a silent walk at the beginning, just because the rain was so strong that it would be impossible to hear each other. Throughout all that, Younghoon kept a tight hold of Chanhee’s shoulder. Eventually, when the rain started slowing down — and Younghoon eventually stepped away, though not too far that they couldn’t still share an umbrella — they started talking.
“I know you from somewhere,” Chanhee said, having debated in his head for the whole trip if he would bring up how he knew Younghoon. “Well, your voice actually.”
“Oh, yeah?” Younghoon asked, surprised. “How’s that?”
“The radio show you hosted a week ago,” Chanhee said. “I listened to that.”
Younghoon smiled widely. “I didn’t know people listened,” he muttered. “Sunwoo’s the pride and joy of the broadcasting department so I wasn’t sure people would take kindly to me taking over. I’m glad someone was listening.”
“You did well,” Chanhee said.
“You’re just being kind. I’m sure I was terrible,” Younghoon answered.
And Chanhee stopped where he stood. Because how could Younghoon think that he wasn’t good enough when he meant so much to Chanhee. Sure, in retrospect, Chanhee hadn’t been listening entirely, having fallen asleep, but that was the whole point of it — falling asleep.
Younghoon was quick to realize that Chanhee wasn’t walking anymore, though it took him around a half step to realize. He turned on his place, now face to face with Chanhee, looking at him curiously.
“Is something wrong?” Younghoon asked..
Chanhee glared at Younghoon, feeling annoyance built up within him.
“If you just know how much you did for me then you won’t be saying you didn’t do well,” Chanhee muttered.
Younghoon raised a brow in curiosity. “I don’t even know—”
“You helped me sleep at night,” Chanhee ended up admitting, in the middle of the street, with rain falling over their heads. Even as he was shouting, Younghoon was angling the umbrella to make sure Chanhee wasn’t getting wet. “Your voice made me fall asleep,” he said, sighing, looking away and stepping away from underneath the umbrella.
Younghoon followed, his hair getting wet because he was still so busy making sure Chanhee wasn’t being rained on. “This is so embarrassing so I’m walking away now.”
He started running towards the apartment, but stopped and looked back. “So, I want you to know that you really did well,” Chanhee shouted through the rain that started to pick up again. “And thank you.”
Then he ran, leaving a confused Younghoon standing where Chanhee left him.
The knock came around an hour later. Chanhee had already finished showering, and was currently drying his hair,
When he opened the door, Younghoon was standing in front of him.
“Hi,” he said, passing Chanhee his mail. It was mostly pamphlets from college organizations, and his monthly subscription of this art magazine.
“I kind of went through the mail to find out what your room is,” Younghoon admitted, looking shy. “I wanted to give back your umbrella,” he explained, “and also, to talk?” He posed his last statement as a question, careful not to overstep any boundaries. Chanhee felt grateful, knowing Younghoon might be feeling that Chanhee needed a little bit more time before he wanted to talk to Younghoon, especially after his breakdown earlier that afternoon.
But Chanhee knew that if he didn’t address this today, he probably wouldn’t address it anytime soon, and for some reason, he did want Younghoon in his life — as a friend, to clarify — so he let Younghoon in.
Younghoon was gracious. Younghoon was kind.
And Chanhee didn’t know what to do with that information.
To start, Younghoon apologized despite not knowing what he was apologizing for. For Chanhee, there wasn’t really any reason for him to apologize, and even though he said that much, Younghoon just shook his head. “You were obviously uncomfortable about something, so I’m pretty sure that’s enough of a reason to say sorry.”
Chanhee frowned because he didn’t think he deserved it, so he ended up apologizing for his outburst earlier.
“You’re allowed to feel the things you’re feeling,” Younghoon said. “That’s fine.”
Chanhee felt immensely guiltier because Younghoon was also very forgiving.
“Anyway,” Younghoon started. “About you falling asleep to my voice?” It wasn’t some sort of accusation, or a form of teasing, instead it was just a question but the way he tilted his voice — obviously very curious — made Chanhee feel very embarrassed. He felt his cheeks heat up as he looked away.
“I don’t mean it as something weird or anything insulting, believe me,” Chanhee said all this looking at the weird spot in his wall where paint seemed to be coming off. “I have a really hard time falling asleep because I tend to always think about things that make me worry, or make me anxious about the next day.” This time he turned his glance to his fingers, slowly getting the courage to look up.
“And when I heard your voice, it was just so calming, so soothing that the only thing that is in my mind when I listen to you is your voice… and it made me relax enough to fall asleep.”
This time he looked at Younghoon. The other man was looking at him with a shocked face mixed with what seemed like awe.
“I don’t know why,” Younghoon said, with that same freaking cadence of his voice, “But that is the nicest thing someone said to me. I’m glad I could help.”
“It’s nothing,” Chanhee whispered, looking away again.
“Well,” Younghoon started. “If you ever find yourself wanting help falling asleep then just let me know. I would love to read to you, or something.”
“I—” Chanhee started, though unsure what he was really going to say.
“Funnily enough, I actually just live right beside you, so just knock,” Younghoon said, pointing to the wall connecting the next room and his room.
Chanhee blinked his eyes slowly, still in disbelief as Younghoon eventually excused himself, reminding Chanhee that he was always happy to help.
For whatever reason, Chanhee wanted him to stay, or he kept wanting to talk to him but he didn’t know what to talk about. As Younghoon started walking for the door, Chanhee grabbed the edge of his jacket, only to realize it was still wet.
Younghoon was still wearing the clothes he had been wearing earlier, despite it being almost an hour after they had seen each other.
“You haven’t changed,” Chanhee said, in surprise. He furrowed his brow in worry. “You must be feeling really cold.”
Younghoon just grinned. “It’s nothing I can’t handle,” he answered. “Besides, I really wanted to resolve our misunderstanding as soon as I could.”
God damn it, Chanhee cursed.
Younghoon was perfect.
Chanhee didn’t accept the offer for the first few days only because he didn’t really know how to ask. Sure, Younghoon said he could just knock but they barely knew each other. Chanhee wasn’t about to knock on a stranger's door.
The getting to know each other, though, eventually happened a week after, what Chanhee now dubbed, “that rainy stupid afternoon”. Chanhee couldn’t sleep and he was feeling hungry so he went to the convenience store near their apartment.
He was staring at the fridge for what felt like over five minutes, unsure what flavor of yogurt to buy. He didn’t know why he liked eating yogurt at night; he somehow just did.
“I’d buy the strawberry one.”
Chanhee jumped, looking behind him where Younghoon was now standing, sending him a wide smile. “Well, of course, you can do the original one and just buy some packed fruits. That way you can have multiple flavors — sort of.”
“Hello,” Chanhee croaked out.
“Hi,” Younghoon answered.
Chanhee opened the fridge to have an excuse to not answer, before getting the original one. He did still have some bananas and apples in his apartment — fruits his mom would get him to make sure Chanhee was “somehow” eating healthy. He guessed he could buy some nuts and chocolates to complete his “meal”.
“What are you doing awake?” Younghoon asked, following him as he finished getting the yogurt.
Chanhee just shrugged. “Can’t sleep,” he whispered. “You?” Chanhee immediately asked, to not afford Younghoon any allowance to ask or say something to him.
“I have work at night,” Younghoon explained. Chanhee inwardly cringed because Younghoon had mentioned that already and he didn’t just remember — not that he was required to remember. “Needed some extra energy booster,” he said, showing the variety of food in his arms, cups of ramen, an energy drink, and a pack of chips.
They paid.
They walked back to their apartment.
And then Younghoon asked him to his apartment.
“Do you want to eat with me?” he asked.
Chanhee ended up saying yes.
It was quiet in the beginning.
With Younghoon telling him he’d just cook his ramen, Chanhee ended up walking around the room.
After renting an apartment, you would be told that it was allowed to decorate it however you wanted to and add furniture in case you wanted to add any. They were also allowed to move the existing furniture however they wanted, but Chanhee never moved his just because the layout was already to his liking.
It was a little awkward to know that Younghoon’s apartment looked similar to his. The only difference was, while Chanhee had a lot of posters on his walls, Younghoon had shelves — so many bookshelves.
His whole apartment was filled with books.
It was like a library, with a bed placed on one side.
Chanhee reached out for a book just as Younghoon said, “You can borrow anything if you like anything.”
Chanhee loved reading, but he never really had enough time to read, nor did he have enough books to read. He had the classics that one of his sisters would lend him, but other than that, he was never really able to explore other genres.
But he was drawn to the book in his hands, mostly because of the cover.
“Do you just buy books?” Chanhee asked, walking towards the table, where Younghoon was already preparing his cup of ramen, still holding onto the book.
Younghoon shrugged. “I can’t help myself,” he said, laughing.
“How do you know you’d like them all?” Chanhee asked, sitting down, and preparing his own food as well.
“I don’t,” Younghoon answered. “If I do end up not liking something, I’ll donate the books to the local libraries or some secondhand bookshop,” he said. “But that’s part of being a writer, I guess. You have to engage in every possible literature you can.”
“What made you want to be a writer?”
“I had so many stories to tell,” Younghoon answered. “And the fact that I could make a living out of it made it even more worthwhile.”
“Why did you choose to become a digital artist?”
Chanhee shrugged. “I like doing art,” he said. “There was a chance to improve it by enrolling in the course, so I did. Also…”
He looked down at his food. “I could make a living out of it, so it made it even more worthwhile,” he added, echoing Younghoon’s earlier words, making Younghoon break out into a big smile.
They ended up exchanging everything about each other that night. How many siblings the both had. Where they went to school prior to being in the university. What their favorite colors were and why. If they had tattoos — showing those they could show. Who their best friends were and how they met them. Chanhee with Changmin and Younghoon with a guy named Jaehyun who wasn’t studying in the same university as he was but was always around that Younghoon mentioned that Chanhee would probably meet him soon — as if Chanhee was someone Younghoon wanted to keep in his life as well.
He ended up sleeping over that night, though mostly unwittingly.
After eating, Chanhee sat at the armchair Younghoon had, whilst Younghoon decided to read out loud that Chanhee borrowed.
Chanhee didn’t know when he fell asleep, only that he did.
When Chanhee woke up the next day, he was lying down on the bed. Looking around, he noticed Younghoon made a makeshift bed on the floor — placing a thick blanket on the floor as his mattress, and a small pillow for his head. Chanhee felt bad, forcing him to wake up.
“You should’ve used the bed,” Chanhee immediately said, once Younghoon stirred away.
“Good morning to you too,” Younghoon muttered, opening one eye. He placed both his hands beneath his head, as he looked up at Chanhee. “I wanted you to be comfortable,” he explained.
“You shouldn’t have sacrificed your comfort,” Chanhee answered.
Younghoon shrugged. “I was fine,” he answered. He stood up, immediately showing off as if that was enough to show that he was okay. That wouldn’t show possible discomfort Chanhee was sure he would’ve felt lying down on the floor.
Sighing, Chanhee whispered. “It is your apartment. If it happens again, you should just share the bed with me.”
Younghoon smiled. “I’ll take note of that for next time then.”
Chanhee grimaced, realizing that was the wrong thing to say.
Chanhee was often reserved. Sure, there were times that he did like meeting new people but most of the time, he liked being alone by himself or spending time with his closest friends. Younghoon coming into his life was like standing in the path of a train going at full speed and not knowing whether to jump or stay there because you literally didn’t have time to think.
Yes, Chanhee thought that was an intense metaphor to use but honestly Chanhee felt insane.
Younghoon had bumped into his axis and now he was wobbling weirdly, unable to place himself back up.
He was never the type of person who had these kinds of things happen to him — whatever that entailed, because he was still completely unsure — and now he wasn’t really entirely sure on what to do.
Because why did he suddenly find it so easy to knock on Younghoon’s door the next night, and Younghoon welcomed him with open arms, saying, “There’s some fruits in the fridge if you ever need any.”
Chanhee stood by the door, speechless, his yogurt placed inside a paper bag in his hands. He hadn’t really planned to be bringing food, but he was hungry when he was leaving his apartment and so he brought yogurt hoping Younghoon wouldn’t mind because he hadn’t minded the night before.
“Thanks?” Chanhee croaked out.
Younghoon shrugged. “I also didn’t know what you liked to put in them so I bought all the fruits I passed by in the market earlier.”
Chanhee didn’t ask if Younghoon went to the market specifically for him, not wanting to know the answer. He wasn’t sure what between the “yes” or the “no” answers would freak him out more.
They ate.
Younghoon continued reading to him the book he had borrowed — at this point, it didn’t even matter if Chanhee had specifically borrowed it to read, Younghoon was doing all the reading for him — until he eventually fell asleep.
When Chanhee woke up, Younghoon kept his promise, and he was there, sleeping beside him.
Chanhee just looked at him, ignoring the uncomfortable fluttering in his stomach or the tightness in his chest.
How was he supposed to do this?
And now here they were again.
During one of those nights.
It was 1am and Chanhee was barely eating the yogurt Younghoon had bought him. The rain seemed to be pummeling harder now, and Chanhee was deep in thought.
Younghoon was working, oblivious to the storm happening in Chanhee’s mind.
He always believed Younghoon was a good guy, and for some reason, Chanhee always felt like he was capitalizing on that kindness. Younghoon did everything for him, went out of his way to do something for him despite not needing to, and Chanhee realized he never did anything back.
Wasn’t relationships meant to be a give and take? Why was he the only one taking?
Before he could think more about something, he felt something cold on his forehead. When he looked up, Younghoon was looking down at him with a worried look on his face.
“You look troubled?” He dragged one of the chairs from the table so he could be sitting beside Chanhee rather than in front of him.
And he just sat there, and listened.
Chanhee shook his head, not wanting to answer, feeling foolish to be thinking of the thoughts that he had been thinking of, but Younghoon looked at him so patiently — so caring — that Chanhee felt guilty to not say.
“I just…” he started. Younghoon waited. “I just feel a little bad that you’re doing all this for me and I haven’t done anything for you.”
Younghoon grinned.
Chanhee thought that maybe Younghoon did find him selfish. He almost looked away, until Younghoon grabbed his hand.
“You make my night,” he admitted. “I’m a lonely soul, Choi Chanhee and you keep me company. That’s all I really need.”
Chanhee wasn’t the type of person to have these things happen to him, so he wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. What the tightness in his chest, or the fluttering in his stomach meant.
But if this was love, like people often allude it is being, then Chanhee liked the feeling.
Younghoon had started inviting him to lunch.
It felt daunting that their relationship was finally moving away from the safety of Younghoon’s room into the open, as if they were moving towards something… more.
Chanhee just tried not thinking about what all of this made him feel because honestly, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to face it.
“I’m glad our free times matched up today,” Younghoon said, picking a table for the two of them. “Where do you usually go to eat lunch?”
Chanhee, who had been biting onto his sandwich, tried to swallow hard, but Younghoon encouraged him to take it slowly — and would accept his answer no matter how long it took him to say.
“I often eat at the club room…for the club I’m in,” Chanhee answered.
“Oh,” Younghoon started. “I’m sorry I took you away from that.”
Chanhee shook his head. “Not many people are there when I eat lunch, which is why I like it. I like the quiet.”
“You don’t mind eating here with me today, though?” Younghoon asked, cocking his head to the side, in curious wonder.
Chanhee shook his head again. “I like it, besides,” he gestured around. “There’s not many people here.”
“I’ll go find a quieter place next time so you won’t feel so bothered,” Younghoon answered.
Next time… Chanhee thought.
He wasn’t a big fan of thinking about the future; it just made him anxious.
But a future with Younghoon… that didn’t seem so bad.
The only friend of Younghoon’s Chanhee met was Juyeon and that didn’t count because technically Chanhee had known Juyeon before he had met Younghoon.
Though Younghoon would often talk about his friends, or told Chanhee he’d like him to meet his friends, there never seemed to be the right time.
Until today.
And it didn’t even happen as planned — there never really was a plan in the first place. Instead, it happened very unexpectedly.
It was one of those nights again. Always one of those nights.
If he had been listening more to his surroundings and not too much on his thoughts then maybe he would’ve realized that Younghoon wasn’t alone, and that today probably wasn’t going to be a good day to barge into his apartment asking for a bedtime story like a child. (Okay, Chanhee was feeling a little lost right now and also a little antagonizing. He couldn’t help it; he didn’t know what to do and he had a splitting headache.)
If the voices inside the apartment weren't any indication, then the locked door should’ve been one.
Because Younghoon had said he never really locked the door for Chanhee.
Now, it was.
And Chanhee should’ve known something was up,
The door to the apartment opened, which was a strange thing in itself, but what wasn’t strange was that Younghoon was still in his chair. What was strange though was a man was standing before him, inside Younghoon’s room, and clearly someone who hasn’t been introduced to him yet.
“Hello?” he asked, awkwardly.
At around this time, Younghoon still hadn’t looked from where he was working.
Only when Chanhee managed a croaked hello back did Younghoon finally look.
“Hi,” Younghoon said, his face breaking into a wide grin. The man by the door looked at Chanhee, and then at Younghoon, curiously assessing the scene. Younghoon stood up towards the man, pushing him away from the door and welcoming Chanhee inside the room.
“Was I interrupting something,” Chanhee whispered, seeing as it didn’t seem like he had a place here for him tonight. He wasn’t going to comment about the fact that a suitcase was opened on one side of the room, and whoever the other man in the room was seemed to be making himself at home.
“No,” Younghoon whispered. “I can still read to you.”
“Read?” Jaehyun asked, looking at Younghoon and then at Chanhee. “Are you in a book club?” he asked, question directed at Younghoon.
Along with a roll of his eyes, and a shake of his head, Younghoon said, “I can’t explain.”
Jaehyun looked even more suspicious.
“I’m Lee Jaehyun,” he said, now addressed to Chanhee. The introduction made Younghoon groan.
“Hey,” Jaehyun muttered, looking at Younghoon as if ready to scold him. “I knew you weren’t planning to introduce us,” he said, with a grin.
“I’m Choi Chanhee?” Chanhee said, feeling unsure about the developments of the night.
Was he meant to stay, then?
At the mention of his name, Jaehyun’s eyes grew wide. “He’s the Chanhee you always talk to Jacob about?” Jaehyun asked. Chanhee filed the name “Jacob” away in his mind, hoping he’d get an opportunity to ask about him later on. Younghoon just ended up nodding, sighing in defeat as he slumped down on a chair.
“Why did you never tell me about him?” Jaehyun asked. “I would’ve loved to meet Chanhee.”
It was apparently this confession that made Younghoon groan. It was also this confession that Chanhee assumed was the reason Younghoon hadn’t told Jaehyun about him. (Again, Chanhee will try not to think of the implications of that).
Without saying anything, Younghoon just grabbed the book he and Chanhee had been reading and walked out of the door, with Jaehyun asking from the inside where they were going.
“I’ll talk to you later,” Younghoon said, closing the door. Before they could walk towards wherever Younghoon was planning to go, he opened the door again, and Chanhee could hear him telling Jaehyun not to follow, soliciting a groan from the person inside the door.
“Fine,” Chanhee heard Jaehyun say. “But you better tell me everything tomorrow.”
They ended up in Chanhee’s apartment.
It was the first time Younghoon was there since the day they had met, and even with that experience, Younghoon still managed to look around Chanhee’s apartment in awe, as if he was in a gallery.
Chanhee felt a little self-conscious.
“Did you buy these?” Younghoon asked, looking at the posters around his room. This time, Chanhee stepped closer, actually proud of the posters on his wall.
“Only the two by the bed,” he said, both of them turning their heads towards Chanhee’s bed. “I bought it at an art fair. My friends made it,” Chanhee muttered.
He looked back at Younghoon, to see the latter staring at him curiously.
“All the others I made,” Chanhee said, feeling the blood rise to his cheeks.
He looked away, and started walking around the room as if not having been there before, suddenly curious about the vase he had in his house ever since he moved in.
Younghoon hummed. “You’re really talented,” Younghoon said. “Can I ask about it? The inspirations and all…”
Chanhee cleared his throat. He pointed at one of the posters closest to the window, and started talking about it. It was actually a drawing of Changmin he had reimagined in a cyberworld. It was a gift he made of Changmin and because it was one of his earlier works, he ended up printing one for himself.
It continued like that, Chanhee then talking about the photo beside the photo of Changmin, until they eventually got to the end of the line — the two posters by his bedside.
“These were actually made by my other friend, Kevin,” Chanhee started, looking at the posters he had bought at an art fair. “He graduated early and is working now so you don’t see him often, but I’ll introduce you when he’s around.”
Younghoon cleared his throat, looking suddenly guilty.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered.
Chanhee raised his brow, wondering what made Younghoon apologize. “About Jaehyun,” he explained. “I do want to introduce you to him but maybe in a less casual setting…” he started blabbering now, talking about how Jaehyun was a different type of person to meet, a ball of energy that cannot be contained, and Younghoon just didn’t want Chanhee to feel overwhelmed.
(It was only later on that Chanhee would find out Younghoon didn’t want Jaehyun to meet Chanhee because Chanhee was the type of person Jaehyun ended up liking, and he was feeling particularly protective.)
“That’s fine,” Chanhee ended up saying. “I’m sure there will be another opportunity. I should bring Kevin along next time as well.”
The idea made Younghoon smile. “Yeah,” he exclaimed. “That’ll be great.”
They walked around each other, both not knowing what to do.
“So,” Younghoon said.
It felt so foreign being in Chanhee’s room despite actually planning to do the same thing — getting Chanhee to fall asleep.
“Have you eaten?” Younghoon asked.
“Yeah,” Chanhee lied.
Younghoon nodded his head. There was a noise penetrating from the opposite room and they both realized that Jaehyun was singing — taking advantage of him soloing a room. Younghoon sighed.
“Let’s just get you to bed so I can deal with that,” Younghoon said.
Chanhee jumped on his bed, feeling the obvious difference of Younghoon’s bed to his. Despite having used this bed since he moved in, it somehow didn’t give him the same comfort. Regardless, Chanhee lied down on his stomach trying to make himself comfortable.
“Okay,” Younghoon started, opening the book to where the bookmark was. “Le Bateleur, London, May-June 1884,” Younghoon read.
Chanhee hummed a sound of interest, making Younghoon continue. “ Just before the boy turns nineteen—”
Chanhee stared at Younghoon. He stared at the way his mouth turned into a smile whenever he read a particular phrase that was written very cleverly, or the way his face scrunched whenever he read a passage that was particularly eerie. Chanhee smiled at the way Younghoon acted out every character, the way he mixed up his voices to match the character.
Sometimes Chanhee hated that he’d end up falling asleep because he could watch and listen to Younghoon for hours.
It was funny to think about the first time Chanhee knocked on Younghoon’s door, still feeling very nervous and embarrassed at the prospect. Now, Chanhee can’t even imagine a day where he wasn’t sleeping with Younghoon reading a book beside him.
One of the biggest things that would scare Chanhee at the moment was the fact that he might not always need Younghoon. He knew the day might come, but he wanted it to come later, when his whole relationship with Younghoon didn’t depend on him trying to fall asleep.
It happened during a brutal exam week.
Younghoon, feeling very apologetic, had told him he had a big test the next day he needed to study for and asked if it was okay for Chanhee to come a little earlier. Chanhee didn’t agree, deciding instead to skip the day for Younghoon to focus on studying.
“I can give you time,” Younghoon said with a pout as he and Chanhee walked towards their room.
“And I’m telling you that you don’t have to,” Chanhee said. “I’ll just find a replacement for you,” he joked.
Younghoon placed a hand on his chest, feigning hurt. “Heyyyy,” he voiced, only making Chanhee smile.
“Just go and study,” Chanhee ended up saying.
Younghoon gave him a curt nod, telling him he understood. “But if you need help—” he started, which Chanhee immediately interrupted with a wave of his hand. He opened Younghoon’s door for him, shoving him inside the room, hoping he wouldn’t say anything else about that matter.
And though Chanhee was worried, he realized that he didn’t need to worry about anything, because when he decided to go to sleep that night, he didn’t even have a hard time doing so. The only thing he needed to do was imagine Younghoon’s voice in his head — he had heard it enough to hear it even if Younghoon wasn’t there — and that made him fall asleep.
The fact obviously made him panic. He didn’t know what to tell Younghoon, nor if he should, so the only thing he thought of doing was to ignore Younghoon.
The first night he excused that he was the one who had an exam and didn’t need to sleep anyway because he’d be studying (surprise, he fell asleep again).
The second night, he couldn’t find an excuse so he ended up just not saying anything.
Chanhee knew that this was probably going to mess up their friendship. Leaving without explaining things didn’t always end up with good results, and he didn’t want to ruin his friendship with Younghoon, but he also needed to think about what to do.
Unfortunately for his best friend, Kevin was the one who ended up taking the brunt of his meltdown.
He didn’t want his meeting with Kevin after months of not seeing each other boil down to this, but he just really needed to talk to someone about this.
“So,” Kevin said, sitting down at Chanhee’s sofa. “This Younghoon guy is helping you sleep?” Kevin asked. “Since when have you had trouble sleeping?”
Chanhee shrugged, sitting down beside Kevin. He put his legs up, pulling it towards his chest.
“No idea,” he said. “Just when third year started I ended up feeling very anxious.”
Kevin sighed. “You know you’re doing great,” he said as some sort of affirmation.
“Thinking about it doesn’t necessarily make me feel it,” Chanhee said.
With a pout, Kevin just moved the conversation back to his first question. “So, he’s helping you fall asleep,” Kevin repeated. “And now you’ve been falling asleep without him?”
“Yeah,” Chanhee answered, slumping down on the sofa as if embarrassed.
Kevin hummed, brow creased in confusion. “I don’t see what the problem is,” he muttered.
Chanhee grimaced. “The problem is…” he started, flailing his arms as if that helped to understand the situation better. “I don’t have any reason to meet with him anymore.”
“Do you only meet at night?” Kevin asked.
Chanhee shook his head. “We have lunch sometimes, whenever we have the free lunch times,” Chanhee started. “And we go to school and back home whenever we can.”
Kevin looked even more confused.
“So you basically see each other always,” Kevin said.
Chanhee grumbled some sort of disagreement which Kevin only rolled his eyes at.
“I don’t have any reason to see him anymore,” Chanhee cried out, making Kevin sigh in disbelief. He stood up, looking at Chanhee with an exasperated face.
“Can’t you meet just because you want to?” Kevin asked, flinging his arms around and gesturing to something in the air as if this “whole” thing didn’t make any sense. (For Kevin, it didn’t).
“Why would he want to meet me?” Chanhee asked.
“Cause he likes you,” Kevin said, almost shouting.
“He doesn’t,” Chanhee argued.
“He reads books to you to make you sleep at night, Choi Chanhee, without anything in exchange apart from your companionship,” Kevin laid down for Chanhee. Though he had known all of this was happening — he was living it — it felt weird hearing all that in the open. “No one would do that for nothing, Hee. He likes you,” Kevin said, dropping on the sofa as if getting tired of his scolding.
Chanhee didn’t say anything, letting the information wash over him until it soaked him. Still, he didn’t make himself be flooded by it because he didn’t want to know how he felt if it turned out not to be true.
The thoughts in his head reminded him of the thing he had told Kevin earlier. Hearing it wasn’t the same as feeling it, and hearing it from someone other than Younghoon definitely didn’t make it true.
And sure, Younghoon was kind, and he treated him so well, but that didn’t mean that he liked Chanhee right.
“—besides, I think he’d find another good enough reason to spend time with you even if you told him you don’t need to sleep anymore.”
The reminder of his problem made Chanhee slumped down defeatedly on the chair, whining again.
The annoying thing about going back to Younghoon when Chanhee had practically ignored him for a week was the fact that Younghoon was very happy to see him again.
(Okay, it wasn’t really annoying, but it gave Chanhee a sense of how Younghoon really felt about him and that was daunting to think about.)
He opened the door that night, with a big smile, saying, “You’re back,” as if Chanhee had just gone on a vacation and wasn’t actually ignoring him. It made Chanhee realize how much he liked Younghoon and loved being around in his life because where else would you find someone who was genuinely so excited to see you.
The thought ignited the flight mode of the butterflies in his stomach.
“Yeah,” Chanhee just said, feeling shy again.
Younghoon led him towards the small living room, where a pile of waffles was waiting in the middle of the table as if he was waiting for him to come. Chanhee wondered how many times he did this the past few days just hoping for Chanhee to knock on his door.
“I hope this is okay?” Younghoon asked. “My mom bought me a waffle maker last week so I have more things to eat other than cup ramen and I’m having so much fun making waffles,” he explained.
“It’s fine,” Chanhee just said.
He had actually not decided what he should do with his dilemma. Of course, he’d love to be honest with Younghoon but there was still that underlying fear of Younghoon not wanting to do anything with him once he found out that he really wasn’t needed anymore.
He was overthinking, he knew it, but that was his special talent — overthinking.
“Oh, did you know that Juyeon and Changmin broke up,” Younghoon said, passing Chanhee a bottle of maple syrup and a bowl of blueberries.
“Again?” Chanhee asked.
He flinched, suddenly guilty for not knowing. Changmin was his best friend and he had to find out he broke up with his “boyfriend” through another person. (Though, in retrospect, Changmin had been very quiet the past few days, not even leaving Chanhee nor Kevin on read in their group chat). Still, Chanhee knew he needed to talk to Changmin soon.
“Is this a normal occurrence?” Younghoon asked, bringing Chanhee back to the present.
Chanhee shrugged. “They like each other too much. They just don’t know how to handle that.”
Younghoon replied with a frown.
“Anyway, Juyeon is asking Sunwoo and me to go out of town with him,” Younghoon eventually said.
“He must be feeling really sad about this,” Chanhee muttered.
“Hasn’t this happened before?” Younghoon asked.
Chanhee shrugged. “I don’t really know what Juyeon goes through,” he said with a frown, but Changmin was his friend.
Younghoon looked at Chanhee for a while before saying something. “I’m sorry I won’t be here for you,” Younghoon said.
Chanhee shook his head. It was unfortunate that they needed to be separated again — sure, the first one would’ve been unavoidable if Chanhee had a better grasp of his feelings — but Chanhee found it a little coincidental that he had managed to fall asleep now that Younghoon was going away for a while. He knew that Younghoon would not always be there for him, and maybe that’s what scared him the most.
He had been so used to Younghoon’s presence that now that it was waning, he didn’t know how to move forward. These nights together became somewhat of a tradition, a habit, and not being able to do it threw Chanhee off-kilter.
It was funny that Younghoon coming into his life had caused him to spin out of his orbit, and now that he was just finding his balance again, he was going to be leaving. (Yes, Chanhee knew it was probably only for a few days, but still).
“I’ll be fine,” Chanhee whispered. “Besides, Changmin might also need me.”
Whenever Changmin broke up with Juyeon, Changmin had a very annoying habit of not wanting to talk about it. He loved talking sure, but never about it, and so most of the time, they’d pick an activity where he would be able to talk, whether it was a very informal book reading, dissing a movie they all haven’t seen before, or his favorite, playing games. Chanhee wasn’t the biggest gamer, and though he was good enough once he got the hang of it, it was the getting the hang of things that made it difficult.
Now, they were playing a boardgame in Kevin’s apartment’s living room. He had managed to wrangle his roommates — Sangyeon, Haknyeon, and Eric, who Chanhee always thought was just the quiet type mostly because they never managed to talk to each other more than two sentences, but was actually really great at games.
They were playing CLUEDO.
Changmin was losing, and he had so much to say.
“It’s not my fault you're bad at this game, Min,” Kevin corrected, just after Changmin was throwing curse words around as he lost another game.
“Can’t we choose not to reveal what’s in our hand?” Changmin complained.
“You have to be strategic,” Eric said.
Changmin cursed again.
Chanhee was embarrassed for him at the beginning, but Kevin had told him that he already gave his roommates a heads-up on the current situation, and they were all understanding having experienced break-ups before.
Just then, Chanhee’s phone rang.
When he looked at the caller ID, he saw Younghoon. Kevin, who had glanced at Chanhee’s phone, raised his brow.
“I’ll just answer this,” he said. Only Kevin acknowledged him, the rest of the table too busy starting a new round of the game to give him any attention.
He walked out towards the garden, making himself comfortable on the garden swing.
“Hi,” Chanhee whispered through the phone as if still afraid to be overheard from the inside. That wasn’t really a problem because the people inside the house were suddenly screaming.
“ You seem to be having fun wherever you are,” said Younghoon from the other line.
Chanhee giggled. “Changmin wanted to play games and Kevin offered his place since he has board games. They’re playing CLUE.”
“You’re not playing with them?”
“You called,” Chanhee answered. “ I just wanted to talk to you.”
“I can talk to you again, later.”
“It’s fine,” Chanhee said, breathing in the night air. “Changmin is finding an avenue to vent and I’m not really needed inside.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’d rather talk to you.”
The silence that came made Chanhee panic a little, wondering if he was being too honest, but soon enough, he heard Younghoon laughing. “ Well, I’m glad to be wanted.”
You don’t even know, Chanhee thought.
They talked for a while, Chanhee not even realizing how long they were talking. Eventually, Younghoon said he’d be going out for a very late dinner with Juyeon and Sunwoo and promised to call him back later.
Something Chanhee had found out about his months getting to know Younghoon was that the latter wasn’t someone to break a promise, and so he did call again a few hours later. By that time, Chanhee was sitting down on the sofa where he was going to be sleeping, reading the book he and Younghoon had been reading.
Changmin, who was splayed down on a mattress on the floor, was already sleeping, the whole night of games tiring him out.
“Hi,” Younghoon muttered from the other line.
“Hi,” Chanhee answered in a whisper. “ Changmin’s already sleeping.”
“Oh? Then what are you doing then?”
“Reading?”
“What are you reading?”
“The book we’ve been reading.”
Younghoon hummed knowingly. Chanhee could hear movement from the phone call, before Younghoon spoke again. “Do you want me to read to you?”
“But I have the book,” Chanhee argued.
Younghoon laughed. “ I have another copy, Chanhee, believe me.”
So, Chanhee didn’t debate with him anymore, making himself comfortable on the sofa instead as Younghoon read him the next parts of the book through the phone. And even if Chanhee knew that he would be able to sleep without Younghoon, falling asleep to his voice was still the best feeling.
For the next few days that Younghoon was away, he always called Chanhee on the phone to read him to sleep.
The night before Younghoon was coming home, Chanhee decided to sleep in his room. He wanted to feel the comfort and security he felt lying down on Younghoon’s bed — especially after sleeping on Kevin’s sofa for the past two days.
When he woke up the next day, he heard someone whistling somewhere in the room. He stood up, realizing that Younghoon was by the fridge, making something.
It smelled nice.
Probably some waffles again.
Chanhee wondered how he felt when he walked inside the room seeing Chanhee on his bed. Had he been surprised? Or was he used to it already?
“Did you have a good sleep?” Younghoon asked, once he noticed that Chanhee was awake.
Chanhee just nodded.
Something passed through Chanhee as he looked at where Younghoon was standing, what he was doing, and where Chanhee was relative to that, a surge of confidence, especially seeing where they were now.
They were comfortable with each other, and didn’t question what was happening between them — why Younghoon was just casually making breakfast while Chanhee was lying on his bed. It seemed so normal.
It seemed like this was exactly where they needed to be.
“I have something I need to tell you,” Chanhee said, finally standing up from the bed, and towards where Younghoon was.
“Yeah?”
“I lied to you,” Chanhee started, looking down at his hands.
Younghoon didn’t say anything, and Chanhee was a little glad he didn’t because he wanted the truth to be out before he faltered. “I’ve been falling asleep without you,” he admitted, looking up at Younghoon to see his reaction.
He didn’t react, instead, he was the one now looking at his fingers.
He finally looked up, grinning. “I know.”
Chanhee furrowed his brow in confusion. “You knew?”
Younghoon nodded his head. “Remember when you had a deadline you needed to finish? The landscape drawing you were doing,” he started, and Chanhee nodded. “Well, I was worried you weren’t eating so I went to visit you and I found you sleeping.”
Chanhee felt the heat creep up to his cheeks remembering that day. He looked away, trying to look at something else, reading the titles of the books on Younghoon’s shelf just to distract him.
“I was actually a little worried that you wouldn’t visit the next day,” Younghoon admitted. “But you did, and,” he shrugged. “I guess I was just really happy to know that you needed me regardless.”
Chanhee wanted to cry, feeling something melt inside his chest.
This felt surreal.
And Chanhee didn’t have things like this happen to him, so he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond, or really, what to do next.
He looked back at Younghoon, breathing in the confidence he had found and said, “Well, there’s something else I wanted to tell you.”
“Yeah?” Younghoon said, looking a little worried.
“I like you,” Chanhee admitted. “I like you a lot.”
The smile painted Younghoon’s face quickly, the sides of his lips rising into a wide grin.
Younghoon crossed the room towards Chanhee. His hands awkwardly lookingfor somewhere to touch him, moving to his shoulders, and then enveloping sides of his neck, cupping his face carefully, lightly.
“And I really like you too,” Younghoon said. “If it hadn’t been obvious already.”
“ I hope you guys missed me,” the voice echoed around the room, as Chanhee started preparing for his midnight snack. “Yes, our dear Kim Sunwoo is out again. With the amount of times he leaves his broadcasting post, I don’t understand why he still has it — that was a joke, by the way.” Younghoon laughed.
“For everyone listening, I hope you treat me kindly as we read all your lovely, and sometimes embarrassing stories again today. And before I read any of your stories, I want to give a shout out to someone—”
He stopped, making Chanhee stop on his tracks, waiting for him to continue.
“Chanhee, baby. I’ll be back home soon. Wait for me.”
And Chanhee just couldn’t help but smile.