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Hyuntak wasn't usually this grumpy.
Well. That was a lie.
Hyuntak was always at least little grumpy. With him usually being one wrong look away from telling someone to fuck off, getting into arguments before first period even ended, and being the biggest contributor to the swear jar Juntae had decided to make to pay for snacks when the group had a movie night, it was quite obvious that he was a grumpster.
But today was just too much.
Everything was annoying him, irritating enough to make him double the money on his friend-group's swear jar. Today's math class didn't seem to ever end, the constant chitchatting around school, and the fact that lunch was bland at best were all just adding to his frustration.
To make matters worse, Humin decided it would be a good day to skip school.
And fine, Hyuntak wasn't some clingy idiot who needed his friends attached to his hip at all times, but the lack of Humin just made those hours in class painstakingly worse.
It was not that he didn't like school, he actually really enjoyed coming in and seeing his friends—Humin and Sieun and, of course, Juntae.
But in a day like this where everything seems a little off, it was obvious that Sieun and Juntae had to stay the entire recess studying for their upcoming test, too busy with their heads bent over their notes that they couldn't give him any attention.
Not that Hyuntak was an attention seeker or anything. It was just that… he liked when his friends could hold a conversation and entertain him. Not like he particularly expected that from Yeon Sieun. But Seo Juntae giving him only one big smile at him all day? That should be illegal.
He huffed thinking about it. Couldn't the boy have at least indulged him a little bit? Just enough to satiate Hyuntak's daily dose of cheek pinching, also known as Hyuntak's daily dose of pinching Juntae's cheeks.
Maybe, if Juntae had looked at him for more than three seconds he would have had a better day. But not even that little happiness was awarded to him.
So yeah, Hyuntak was extra grumpy.
The real reason his day had gone to shit, however, was something he hadn't mentioned. One that he didn't tell anyone about because it pertained to the most vulnerable piece of himself.
But the thing of today was… that it was going to rain.
And one might think that the rain isn't so bad. The sound is pleasing and it makes plants hydrated and grow and all the fucking photosynthesis shit that Hyuntak couldn't care less about.
Because Hyuntak dreaded the rain.
Something about how the pressure changed when it was going to rain just made his knee ache painfully, dull enough to ignore at first but persistent in a way that made him want to punch something.
Wretchedly reminding him that no matter how strong he was, how many times he went to the gym, how many muscles he got, how many fights he won, how many hours he had spent proving to himself that he could still run, still jump, still move—he was still debilitated.
And every time it rained he had to be reminded of that.
So he knew from the morning that today was going to be shit, because every rainy day was shitty even before the raindrops started to pour from the sky.
In fact, the floor was still dry, but Hyuntak knew that the rain was going to arrive soon.
The first drops started to show themselves as he walked to the court, and without Humin there to make this more bearable, Hyuntak decided it was better for him to sit this one out.
If their captain could miss a practice then so could he.
And no one would even really care if he did.
So that's how he found himself slumped on the grey couch of the basketball clubroom, his bad leg stretched out in front of him, resting on the cushions.
He could hear the rain tapping against the metal door, souring his mood even more. He was bored and there were too many feelings he didn't particularly want to feel.
He looked around, the red jerseys were still on the same spot. The cracks in the ceiling were still the same too.
And he too was the same. The same pathetic boy with a bad knee.
He pressed the heel of his palm against his knee, hard, but it didn't help. It never did. And that was the part that really got to him. Not the pain itself—he'd had it worse. He'd had it so much worse.
But it was that in days like this that all the work he had done for it just evaporated into thin air. Like hadn't spent hours in that stiff-backed chair at the physiotherapy clinic, sweating through exercises that felt pointless, gritting his teeth while someone told him to bend his leg just a little more. Please, Hyuntak-ssi, you're almost there.
But he did. He did work hard on it, he did his stretches constantly. He had treated his knee well. He had iced it. He had rested it. He had done everything right. He had a perfect recovery.
And for what?
Only for some stupid rain to undo it all? Only for a fucking change in weather to be enough to remind him that he'd never really fixed anything? That he'd just learned to limp less visibly?
Fuck Na Baekjin.
He didn't care that all that was left of him was his ashes and that one shouldn't curse the dead.
But really, fuck him. And fuck the rain and the clouds and fucking evaporation, condensation and the whole water cycle.
And fuck Park Humin for not even being here to say some dumb shit that would make Hyuntak momentarily forget about his pain and fuck Yeon Sieun for being so smart but not smart enough to come up with a magical cure and fuck Seo Jun—
Well, actually no, Seo Juntae didn't deserve to be fucked, he deserved to be loved and cherished and praised and revered for being so precious and beautiful and sweet.
And he would have been adored and doted on had he only been here. Or being mentally there with him in recess, not only just physically.
Hyuntak kicked the leg of the coffee table with his good foot. The table groaned. He didn't care. He wished he could have kicked Juntae's physics teacher.
And more than that, he really hoped Na Baekjin was rotting in hell.
His knee throbbed at his thought, pain worsening. Fuck Na Baekjin's ghost too. He'd probably be happy that Hyuntak was all alone and sad, and Hyuntak really didn't want to give the spirit that satisfaction, a scowl forming in his face just at the thought.
But unfortunately he couldn't bring himself to feel whole. Or happy.
He just really hated the rain.
A thunder roared and the wind was blowing harshly against the door, the sound of rain becoming more pronounced.
Of course, the universe wouldn't just let him feel depressed peacefully, it also had to provide a suitable soundtrack.
Hyuntak let his head fall back and groaned. He pressed his palms against his eyes until he saw stars, wishing he could crush the headache, the knee pain, and this whole stupid day until it all disappeared.
"There you are," he heard a familiar voice say. Was he having hallucinations now too?
Hyuntak looked at the door, startled to see it open, even more startled to see that Juntae was actually standing there, looking out of breath as if he had just sprint there. Wait. Did he actually run here?
Juntae closed his umbrella and stepped inside. Behind him, the world looked like it was falling apart, but Hyuntak's had just become a little brighter.
"What are you doing here?" It was meant to come out in delight surprise, but Hyuntak's words came out rough, prickly from all the bitterness he'd been marinating in for the past hour.
But that wasn't a problem, at least not for Juntae, who had just set his yellow umbrella against the wall.
"I figured you wouldn't have an umbrella."
It was true, he didn't. Despite feeling all the tell-tales signs on his body that it was going to rain, Hyuntak didn't think of bringing one.
"You're right," Hyuntak said, a small smile forming in his face at Juntae's antics. "I didn't bring one."
"I knew it! As soon as it started raining I knew you wouldn't have one, so I immediately turned around so we could share mine. Luckily you are still here because you'd be in serious trouble if you decided to walk home in the rain and—" Juntae stopped his rambling mid-sentence as he took a closer look into Hyuntak's form. "Does your knee hurt?"
Hyuntak looked at his leg where Juntae's gaze was fixed to, he didn't even have time to answer before Juntae continued:
"Of course it hurts that's why you're still here." Juntae huffed, mumbling something about how he would definitely go out in the rain. Hyuntak wanted to say he wouldn't, but he couldn't.
Juntae shuffled closer to Hyuntak, plopping himself on the floor beside the couch, the perfect place to analyze his knee. Hyuntak stopped himself from to shifting around under the smaller boy's determined gaze.
Then he did something that made Hyuntak's brain short-circuit.
He reached over and placed his hand gently on top of Hyuntak's knee. He didn't press on it, just rested in there, delicately like he did everything else. Hyuntak could feel the warmth through the fabric of his pants.
Also on his ears and the back of his neck.
"Does this help?" Juntae asked, his eyes with so much care.
Hyuntak stared at the hand. Then at Juntae's face. Then back at the hand.
His heart was beating so loud. Could Juntae hear it? He had to be able to hear it.
"No," Hyuntak croaked, voice cracking. "But don't move it."
Juntae's smile widened, just a fraction. His hand stayed warm and still on Hyuntak's knee, thumb tracing the faintest circle over the fabric. For a few breaths, neither of them spoke. The rain filled the silence but it didn't carry the anger it previously did. Or maybe Hyuntak calmed down enough to not be bothered by the falling drops.
It might have been just a couple of seconds, or a whole twenty minutes, but with a single touch Juntae made Hyuntak's brain flip off its anger mode and settle into serenity.
Not that it lasted very long, because two seconds after Juntae's brow furrowed slightly, the way it did when he was thinking too hard about something, he stood up abruptly.
"What are you doing?" Hyuntak immediately asked.
"I'm going to get heating pads," Juntae said, voice gaining determination frighteningly fast. "The convenience store near school sells them. And maybe I can get some painkillers too—wait, do you need ibuprofen? Actually maybe medicine on an empty stomach is bad."
He paused only to think harder.
"Oh! Snacks."
Hyuntak stared.
"Just wait here," said already half-turned towards the door. "I'll make it quick!"
Hyuntak didn't want to stay there alone. Didn't want to stay anywhere if it wasn't with Juntae.
So he did what any sensible, slightly desperate human being would do. Juntae was still standing close, close enough that Hyuntak could catch the soft murmur of him listing to himself the types of snacks that would be fitting for a situation like this. Hyuntak took it as an opportunity reach out.
His fingers closed around Juntae's wrist, gently pulling him down to sit on the shabby clubroom couch with him. Or well, on him.
"Stay," Hyuntak said, almost in a whisper. The fragility of the word tasting unusual in his mouth. "I don't need snacks or heated packs or any of that. I just need you to stay. Okay?"
Juntae blinked down at him, surprised. His wrist was warm under Hyuntak's palm, pulse ticking rapidly against Hyuntak's thumb, he was seated sideways, half on the couch, half on Hyuntak's good leg. The boy's legs were hooked on top of Hyuntak's own, and maybe Juntae's heartbeat wasn't the only one accelerating.
For a moment, Juntae looked like he was going to argue, Hyuntak could already hear him saying that the convenience store was right there, it would only take five minutes—but then Juntae's expression softened, and he nodded.
"Okay," he said quietly.
The boy started to settle with his back against the couch, careful not to touch Hyuntak's knee but also being mindful to no settle his weight on his bent leg. Hyuntak's grip on his wrist didn't loosen. He couldn't afford to loosen. Because the thought of Juntae going away made his chest clench.
And even if he was right there, close enough to touch, close enough that they were touching, there was some sort of fear pooling in Hyuntak's stomach. Because Juntae had previously moved when he had explicitly asked him not to, and Hyuntak didn't want that happening again—couldn't have the boy slip away from his fingers.
So for good measure, Hyuntak pulled him closer to himself. Just enough to guide Juntae off-balance, enough to make him tumble softly into Hyuntak's space. Juntae let out a small, surprised squeak as he ended up against Hyuntak's chest. Exactly where he was meant to be.
"H-Hyuntak?"
It was an awkward kind of hug at first, Juntae's body being angled weirdly from the unexpected pull, but Hyuntak didn't let go. One hand in the other's wrist and the other on Juntae's nape.
"Let me have this," Hyuntak murmured, guiding Juntae's head to rest against him. Juntae giggled at first, a soft breathy sound that vibrated against Hyuntak's chest, then twisted himself to fit properly into the hug. His head found its place in the hollow of Hyuntak's chest, ear pressed right over his heart. His fingers curled loosely into the fabric of Hyuntak's shirt, right above his ribs.
When they finally fit, Hyuntak wrapped his arms around Juntae's waist and held him there.
They sat like that in silence, simply breathing together and basking in the warmth. The rain outside had softened, pattering gently, but fast, as if a proper reflection of Hyuntak's tranquility and his beating heart.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke.
"Do you feel better?" Juntae asked suddenly, voice quiet as to not interrupt the moment.
"I do," Hyuntak answered, and it was genuine. His knee still throbbed, but the colossal waves on his mind had become afternoon beach tides. "But not enough for you to leave yet."
Juntae's fingers pressed a little deeper into his shirt.
"I won't, then," he said, voice so soft it could be mistaken as cotton candy.
Hyuntak smiled, pressing his cheek against the top of Juntae's head. His hair smelled like rain and something sweet—shampoo, maybe, or just him.
Another long and comfortable silence passed between them.
It didn't really need any filling, but the ache in Hyuntak's knee pulsed again, dull and insistent, and Juntae had been so pliant and sweet. So caring that Hyuntak felt compelled to open up.
"It's the rain." He hated saying it out loud. Made him feel weak, broken. Made him feel like Baekjin was still winning. "Makes it ache."
Juntae nodded slowly against his chest, his glasses lightly digging into Hyuntak's skin.
"Every time?"
Hyuntak could only nod.
"Why didn't you tell me? Us?" His breath was warm through Hyuntak's shirt.
The question was asked softly, but it landed heavy. Hyuntak stared back at the crack in the ceiling, the same one he had looked earlier, trying to find the proper words.
"I didn't want to worry you," was what he had settled for. "Any of you."
Juntae slowly unfurled from him, his hand sliding from Hyuntak's shirt to the couch cushion as he lifted his head to look at Hyuntak properly.
His eyes were bright behind his lenses, but so so sad. Hyuntak didn't want for them to be like that.
"You didn't have to keep something like this to yourself." Juntae reached to caress Hyuntak's cheek.
Hyuntak looked away. His jaw worked silently for a moment.
"Didn't want to bother," he finally said. The words came out flat, practiced. Like he'd said them to himself a hundred times before. "Everyone's got their own shit. Sieun with his grades, Humin with his father's stuff, you with... I don't know. Being Juntae. Didn't seem fair to dump my crap on top of all that."
Juntae's expression flickered. His brow pinched.
"That's not —" He stopped. Swallowed. "That's not how it works, Hyuntak."
"Feels like it."
"You're not a bother, Tak." Juntae's voice cracked, just a little, on the last syllable. "You're never a bother. To anyone." His hand cupped Hyuntak's cheek more firmly. "Especially not to me."
Hyuntak really looked at him then: at the earnest shine in Juntae's eyes, at the way his lower lip trembled just slightly. Seeing how Juntae doing his best to be there for him.
And for some reason—maybe because the ache in his knee made him feel small, maybe because Juntae was being too soft that it scared him—Hyuntak's mouth moved before his brain could stop it.
"But you're all already doing so much." Hyuntak let his breath out. "I don't want to be a worry, or the one everyone has to check on. The broken one."
The word hung in the air between them.
Juntae's hand tightened. "You're not broken."
"My knee is."
"Your knee is hurt. That's not the same thing."
"It is broken," Hyuntak insisted. "It still is because every damn time it rains it fucking hurts like it still is broken. It doesn't matter that it's been years, that I recovered, that I worked hard to strengthen it."
Hyuntak swallowed the lump in his throat, but now without any obstacles, his deepest and ugliest feelings were throwing themselves out.
"I sit here like this, on this stupid fucking couch, while everyone else is out there living their ordinary lives, and I just..." His voice broke. "I just remember that no matter how hard I try, I'll never be the way I was before."
Juntae mouth was contorted in a proper frown, his hand trembled against Hyuntak's cheek at the same pace as he shook his head continuously. But Hyuntak couldn't stop.
"And I hate Na Baekjin so much for it." He curled his hands in a fist. "But today, I hate myself more, because why can't I just get over it? Why can't I just be fine?"
Hyuntak didn't expect Juntae to have an answer to that, but saying all that did make him cathartic.
"You can hate Baekjin and the rain and you can even hate me Tak, but please don't say you hate yourself." Juntae's eyes were watery behind his glasses, his hand now grasping at his shoulder in an attempt to make Hyuntak listen. "You're so strong, Tak. You're the strongest person I know. You're strong and protective and even if you don't feel fine now, or you're never over it it's okay because you're still healing. You're already so good and—" Juntae hiccuped.
"Hey," Hyuntak said, alarm cutting through the fog of his own misery. "Hey, no. Are you really crying? Over my stupid knee?"
"It's not stupid," Juntae said, his voice cracking. He wiped his cheek with the back of his hand, but more tears kept coming. "It's so strong, Tak. The strongest knee in humanity."
Hyuntak smiled at him, because even in moments like these Juntae was sweet. Cute.
"You've been in so much pain—not just on your knee— and—" Juntae hiccuped. "And you did so well. You've been so strong, protecting me and kicking the Union's ass like it wouldn't make it hurt worse."
"It didn't hurt when I did those—"
"You didn't even tell anyone, you fool. You just—"
"Juntae."
"You just sat here alone. Do you do this every rainy day, Tak? Do you—"
"Juntae"
"—sit by yourself and suffer alone every time? And I didn't even know?"
"Jun!"
Hyuntak grabbed his face, both of his palms flat against Juntae's wet cheeks. He tried to catch the tears before the could fall further but Juntae was rivaling the clouds in the sky.
Juntae still hiccups between his hands.
"I'm so sorry, Tak. I'm sorry I didn't know. I promise I'll be with you any time in rains. Any time it even sprinkles."
Hyuntak didn't feel like crying anymore, his heart was melting with how docile Juntae was.
"Ah, you crybaby. Aren't you so sweet?"
"No, Tak-ah, this is serious." Juntae sniffed.
"I know, Jun." Hyuntak smiled at him warmly. "Thank you for being here with me." He was still brushing away Juntae's tears. "But you really should stop crying or else you'll take Baku's crybaby title."
Juntae giggled at that, rubbing his eyes. "Maybe I should."
"You don't need that," Hyuntak said smiling wide. "You're already the group's cute one."
Hyuntak watched in ecstasy as he watched the words settle in Juntae's mind, seeing the boy gain a pinkish hue to his cheeks as his tears momentarily stopped.
"R-right." Juntae laughed awkwardly, and Hyuntak couldn't help himself and pinched his cheeks. He was due his daily dose. "We should go." Juntae murmured, looking away from him and towards the door.
Hyuntak's arms once again found themselves around Juntae's waist. "I want to stay like this a little longer."
"C'mon, Tak." Juntae insisted. "The rain's only going to get worse, Tak."
"I can get wet." Hyuntak pressed himself closer to the smaller boy. "I'm not made of sugar."
Juntae pulled back just enough to look at him. His eyes were still a little red from crying, his lashes still damp, but he looked beautiful. "But I would rather you didn't."
Hyuntak didn't move.
Juntae sighed, exasperated, but fond. Then behind his glasses, his eyes widened slightly, and his voice took on a coaxing lilt. "Come on. We can stay like this on my couch too. But I have heating packs. And so many delicious snacks."
He looked at Hyuntak then. Full-on puppy eyes. Big and warm and impossible to say no to.
Hyuntak lasted about two seconds.
"Fine," he grumbled, already mourning the loss of Juntae's weight on his chest. "But only because of the snacks."
Juntae stood up excitedly, but still careful, and Hyuntak mourned the loss of his body heat.
Hyuntak standing up himself was more difficult. Juntae was hovering and ready to catch him as if he could hold any of his weight.
"Jun, you wouldn't be able to catch me if I fall."
"But I can cushion the fall so you don't hurt yourself."
Hyuntak laughed at that, his heart all warm because of the absolute sweetheart that was still standing there awkwardly. That was enough for him to fully stand. His knee complained, but it was subdued by the flutter of the butterflies in his belly.
They made it to the door. Juntae grabbed his yellow umbrella from where he'd leaned it against the wall, and Hyuntak couldn't contain himself.
"Can we really not stay here?"
"No." Juntae turned to face him. "I just really want to share an umbrella with you."
"Is that so?"
Juntae nodded twice, excited about the prospects of standing under the same umbrella as Hyuntak. And who is Hyuntak to deny him of that?
So there they were, walking slowly under the pouring rain. Juntae insisted it was because of his small legs and not because of Hyuntak's knee. Hyuntak wanted to kiss him stupid.
Juntae was holding his yellow umbrella. He insisted, even if it rested on Hyuntak's head due to their height difference. And it was only after they were half-way to Juntae's house that Hyuntak noticed he wasn't getting wet at all despite the umbrella not being big enough to cover them both.
"Didn't you want to share an umbrella?" Hyuntak asked, voice almost angry.
"We are sharing an umbrella!" Juntae answer was enthusiastic, as if this was the best thing that happened in the past few months.
"But you're getting soaked!" Hyuntak pointed out to the smaller's shoulder, his jacket dark from all of the rain.
"I'm not made out of sugar." Juntae echoed Hyuntak's words from earlier.
"Could fool me from how sweet you are." Hyuntak didn't mean to flirt, but it was true. He got the yellow umbrella from Juntae's hand.
Juntae pushed it back to himself, and in a romantic display of chivalry where both wanted to hold their umbrella, both of them ended up wet, and holding the umbrella together. Hands on top of each other.
Hyuntak's ears were on fire. He hoped his hands weren't was sweaty as they felt. At least he could blame the wetness to the weather, the rain finally seeming to have something positive about its existence.
+++
Juntae's apartment was small and warm and smelled like honey and fabric softener. He took off his wet shoes by the door, then immediately turned to help Hyuntak with his—which was ridiculous, because Hyuntak could take off his own shoes, but Juntae was already crouching down and untying the laces before he could even think to speak against it.
"I can do it myself," Hyuntak said.
"You can," Juntae agreed, but didn't stop his actions.
Hyuntak let him.
The heating pack was the first thing Juntae went after making sure all of Hyuntak's wet clothes were away from his body. He babbled how he loved those reusable ones for winter because his hands were always feeling cold. Hyuntak hoped that by next winter Juntae wouldn't have to use them since they'd be constantly holding hands.
Hyuntak was sitting on his couch, wearing a Naruto hoodie that was way too short on him and deciding if he should cover himself in the small blanket that smelled like Juntae's laundry detergent on the armrest. He decided against it.
Juntae then propped Hyuntak's leg up on the cushion, and put the hot pack over his knee.
"How is it?"
"Good." Better if Juntae was laying with him, but he was already off to get them snacks.
He returned with an armful. Chips, cookies, some kind of chocolate thing in a shiny wrapper, and two cartons of milk. Strawberry and banana. He laid it all out in the coffee table.
"You didn't have to do all this," Hyuntak said.
Juntae plopped down beside him and grabbed the remote. "I wanted to."
He put on some anime, Hyuntak didn't mind. What he minded was that they weren't close and hugging like they had been before.
Hyuntak barely had to pull Juntae's hand, the smaller one was already laying on Hyuntak's chest. Head facing the TV, and hand over the heat pack on Hyuntak's knee.
Hyuntak's own hand found Juntae's hair almost by instinct. He carded his fingers through it slowly, gently, working through the damp tangles. Juntae made a small, content sound and pressed closer.
They stayed like that for a while.
Then Juntae spoke, his voice sleepy and soft.
"The whole reason I went back to find you," he murmured, "wasn't just because I thought you didn't have an umbrella."
Hyuntak's fingers stilled in his hair. "Then what was it?"
Juntae was quiet for a moment. Then, barely above a whisper: "I wanted to stand under it with you, because I wanted you to know that I love and care for you."
Hyuntak's chest went very, very warm.
"You didn't need an umbrella to show me that," Hyuntak said tenderly, continuing to stroke the brown hair.
"I know," Juntae replied, "but the umbrella makes it more romantic."
The rain tapped softly against the window. The heating pack pulsed warmth into Hyuntak's knee. Juntae's breathing was slow and even, like he was fighting sleep just to get this confession out.
Hyuntak looked down at the top of Juntae's head. At the curve of his ear. At the way his lashes fanned against his cheeks.
"So this whole time," Hyuntak said slowly, "you were really only trying to make me your boyfriend?"
Juntae went stiff against him. "No—I mean—that's not—" He buried his face deeper into Hyuntak's chest, glass frames digging into his skin. "I wasn't trying to—it just—the umbrella thing is—"
Hyuntak waited.
"...maybe a little," Juntae admitted, muffled.
Hyuntak bit the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling too wide.
"But did it work?" Juntae asked. His voice was so small, so hopeful, so sleepy.
Hyuntak's heart cracked open. He thought about the rain. The ache in his knee, in his head, in his heart. The way Juntae had ran back just to find him. Just to share an umbrella, yet dealt with Hyuntak's messy feelings like he was there to support him all along. He thought about how he'd never wanted to be anywhere as much as he wanted to be right here. Even more than he wanted to stay in the clubroom.
"I think it did," Hyuntak said.
Juntae lifted his head. His eyes were heavy-lidded with exhaustion, but they searched Hyuntak's face with an intensity that made the word boyfriend feel too small and too big all at once.
"Yeah?" Juntae whispered.
"Yeah."
Juntae smiled sleepily. Then he yawned, and let his head fall back against Hyuntak's chest.
"At least remove your glasses."
But Juntae didn't move, so Hyuntak reached down to remove them, carefully placing it in the coffee table next to the endless amount of snacks.
Hyuntak's hand found his hair again. He stroked it slowly, rhythmically, until Juntae's breathing evened out.
"Thank you, Jun."
He pressed his lips to the top of Juntae's head.
Hyuntak still hated the rain, but he could learn to tolerate it if every rainy day ended like this.