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Cold.
The tiles burn into the pores of Keonho’s skin, cool contrasting the comforting warmth of the lights shining above them.
His back is pressed against the armchair behind him, neck extended over the soft foam over it. He moves his head around, eyes focused on the swinging motion of the lights.
He wonders about the streets, about the cool air outside. About what James might be doing while Martin and Seonghyeon desperately try to act like they don’t want to just reach over and hold onto each other’s hands while walking.
Keonho wonders about which café they’ll go to, and whether or not the vanilla latte is worth all the effort.
A pluck of the bass rings through the speaker and prompts Keonho to close his eyes. He hears the familiar rasp of the vocalist. The lyric, don’t let me down, repeats until the instrumental mellows down for only a moment.
Keonho decides to sit up, staring straight ahead of him, towards the records hung on the wall. Shiny and barriered with glass. His arms are wrapped around his knees, eyes sliding over to the only other presence in the room.
Juhoon sits quietly on the couch, eyes zoning out of the window as well. The tiredness seeps into the silence, inaudible, but so deeply felt. It’s hidden underneath their bones and trapped underneath their muscles.
Somehow, it was a good kind of tired. The kind of tired you’d only get from doing something you love.
Keonho’s eyes linger on Juhoon, staring at the high curve of his nose, and the fluffiness of his hair. The kind of fluffy Keonho couldn’t explain what he felt of, other than the fact that he wants to bite Juhoon’s cheeks at the sight of it. Juhoon’s eyes have faint remnants of gloss over them, eyes shining like the stars would rather find their home in him.
Keonho can only feel awe at the image before him. Quiet and still, yet so fucking beautiful.
Right as the thought passes by Keonho’s consciousness and leaves its dust in every crevice of his brain, Juhoon blinks, as if suddenly aware of something.
His position is still, hands still hidden underneath the warmth of his pockets. But his eyes shift focus, head tilting slightly towards Keonho.
The glossiness of Juhoon’s eyes direct its shine towards Keonho, and Keonho forgets how to breathe.
Juhoon’s eyes linger on him, looking straight into his eyes, before going down to his figure, and right back up. Keonho doesn’t miss the drag of Juhoon’s eyes on his lips, almost as if he doesn’t want to look at much else.
Keonho feels a flame lighting up in his stomach, moving all the way up to his chest. His heart burns, almost crippling up into a pathetic ball of soot.
Keonho can feel his face burn up as well, unable to keep in the yelp that grew in his throat.
He’s quick to put his head down, shielding his vulnerability within his arms. He can’t see him, but Juhoon’s expression of confusion is so clear in his head, that Keonho almost wants to run away.
Juhoon doesn’t say a word, still in his position on the couch. Keonho slowly peeks out of his arms, hiding away once more as he catches Juhoon’s eyes.
“I hate you.” Keonho mumbles underneath his breath, loud enough for Juhoon to hear. He doesn’t wait for Juhoon to respond before speaking again. “I hate you. You’re so pretty. I hate you.”
It isn’t true, they both know it. Keonho? Hating Juhoon? It’d only be true if you were in a different dimension.
Keonho tries not to think about the little laugh that comes out of Juhoon’s mouth. His head is still down when he hears a rustling, and feels a warmth occupy the emptiness beside him.
Keonho’s knee comes in contact with the kind of warmth that only Juhoon could bring him. Their knees are touching, and Keonho desperately tries to ignore the burning of his ears.
Dangerously, Keonho slowly shifts his head, looking towards his left. He almost jumps, seeing his Juhoon-hyung mirror his position, head resting upon the arms wrapped around his knees.
Juhoon speaks, and Keonho wants to hide his voice away in a jar and keep it to himself.
“You hate me?” Soft, gentle, and so annoyingly teasing.
Keonho lifts his head, staring at the records once more, trying to find something new to look at. The disc is golden, letters written across the center. It looks cool. It’s shiny, just like Juhoon’s eyes.
He sees Juhoon in the corner of his eye, straightening his back as well. The only difference is, his eyes are only on Keonho.
Juhoon moves, his hand coming up to Keonho's hair. His fingers tangle into Keonho’s strands, sending sparks of electricity through Keonho’s skin. He tucks a piece of his hair behind Keonho’s ears, and Keonho’s eyes dart to the floor before moving towards Juhoon.
He’s close. So close. He can feel Juhoon’s breath against him, he can smell the new perfume he’s been wearing. Keonho can feel Juhoon taking over his senses, and the only thing he can do, is to take a deep breath in.
Juhoon smiles as he notices this, eyes crinkling up in the corners. Keonho can’t take his eyes off of him.
He doesn’t miss it. He doesn’t miss the way Juhoon leans closer, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world.
Juhoon’s eyes glance back down to his lips, and Keonho can feel himself swallowing against his will. His eyes close, feeling the soft press of Juhoon’s lips against his.
It’s short, merely a peck, as Juhoon pulls away after a second. Keonho doesn’t notice, but his body shifts ever so slightly, moving towards his hyung. His lips search for Juhoon’s lips, almost urgently.
Juhoon stays in place, unable to hold in his smile at Keonho’s eagerness. Before Keonho could fully open his eyes once more, Juhoon leans in again, smiling into the kiss.
Keonho almost tumbles while leaning forward, Juhoon’s hand coming up to gently hold Keonho’s chin, directing him. Juhoon kisses him, long and short, pulling away just to make Keonho wish for it again.
Their heads tilt, Juhoon’s tongue sliding across Keonho’s bottom lip.
The doorknob rattles, and Juhoon pulls away just to leave another quick peck against Keonho’s lips before he ducks down and hides his head behind Keonho’s back.
“We’re back.” Martin announces as they step inside, hand holding a paper bag with two drinks in cup holders. Seonghyeon’s holding two drinks himself, supposedly his and Martin’s drinks.
Keonho is left wide-eyed and shocked, staring out into the wall as he licks his lips, trying his best to seem like there is nothing more interesting than the headphones hanging over its stand. He can hear Juhoon laughing behind him, to which the older boy receives a light smack in return.
Martin places their drinks down on the table before eyeing them suspiciously, taking notice of Juhoon’s figure that keeps slightly bouncing, as if there was something very funny written on Keonho’s back.
Martin squints his eyes before he asks, “You guys good?”
“Yep,” Keonho looks at him before shifting to grab his and Juhoon’s drinks from the coffee table, looking down to hide the redness spread across his cheeks.
Seonghyeon narrows his eyes at them, watching as Juhoon accepts his drink. He takes a sip, eyes only focused on Keonho’s own pair.
He watches as Keonho flinches, the drink burning his tongue. Juhoon immediately shifts to grab tissues for him.
Seonghyeon starts to squint, watching them giggle like they were the only people in the room. He looks back at James, who glances at them, and makes eye contact with Seonghyeon, making it well-known that he indeed does not know what is going on.
When he looks at Martin, his eyebrows are furrowed, almost like he’s unsure what to think of the sight he’s seeing.
They’re being a little too open, a little too playful. Seonghyeon plops down on the couch and decides it isn’t any of his business. Martin sits down beside him, arm wrapped around his shoulders.
James shifts, tilting to check Juhoon’s phone that’s left on the table, the one connected to the speakers. He checks the phone and turns it on.
“Damn.” Seonghyeon and Martin tilt their heads towards him. “This song’s been on loop since we left.”