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“What the fuck are you doing in my room?”
It was shocking enough to find Jun in his room, but to find him curled up on his bed was even more astonishing. Dylan could not believe his eyes, torn between anger and worry.
“Can I sleep here?”
Jun's voice was so pitiful and far from his usual tone that Dylan’s anger quickly died. What the hell was happening?
“Why?”
Jun sighed, turned onto his side, and moved his feet to the floor, ready to get up and leave. There was no chance that Dylan would let him go without knowing what was wrong. Because 1. Jun never sought him out. Ever. 2. He never sounded down. Even when he was clearly feeling like shit, Jun usually fought back. He wasn’t one to easily give up.
“I didn't say you couldn't stay. But my answer depends on why you want to stay here when you have a perfectly good bed right next door.”
The hope illuminating Jun's eyes was enough for Dylan to know that, whatever the reason, he would let Jun stay here if he really needed to. Damn his heart for being so soft and inclined to give Jun everything he wanted. It was easy enough to hide most of the time, but sometimes he simply couldn't resist Jun.
“It's a bit silly, but I'd rather you making fun of me than stay alone tonight. No one else is home.”
“Oh, so I'm the last resort?”
It hurt. Granted Dylan knew their relationship wasn’t based on vulnerability and kindness, but he'd hoped Jun at least knew he could seek him out in times of need. Even when the others were around.
“I—To be fair, I think I would have gone to Nano if had he been around. This calls for cuddles, and I don't really expect you to hug me.”
That did make sense. Dylan would very much oblige if Jun asked, though. He wasn't against physical touch and definitely wasn't averse to Jun touching him; it simply was Dylan's favorite love language to give. He was always afraid of giving himself away by indulging too much. So, he rationed himself and his touches, preferring to make them meaningful rather than frequent.
“Will you tell what's got you so worked up, or will you keep deflecting?”
“My dog died.”
That was even less expected than anything else that had already happened that night. Was Jun getting this upset over a pet? Dylan knew Jun loved his dog; he talked about it often when he had the occasion. He looked so sad that it was a little painful to watch.
“I know it's stupid, but you know Hatchi meant a lot to me. He was by my side for 15 years, and I don't know—I guess I kind of feel bad for not being as present the past few years. I feel like I let him down by leaving him with my parents instead of taking him in myself. I didn't even get to say goodbye.”
Maybe Dylan couldn't relate to loving a pet so much that it felt like family, but he knew damn well how much it hurt to lose someone you loved and feel like you didn't get to enjoy your last moments together to the fullest. When MARS almost disbanded and left this house, Dylan had mostly regretted not having had a farewell party for this place that had seen so much love and happiness blossom in between its walls. It wasn't that different from a pet offering comfort and being part of your family.
“Lie down.” Dylan ordered, finally putting his belongings on his desk, and quickly changing into his pajamas.
He wasn't really shy. They'd seen each other undressed enough times that it didn't faze any of them anymore. Well, except when Dylan caught glimpses of Jun's tanned skin in places he usually didn't have access to. He tried his best not to look and avoid thinking about it when it did happen. But when he turned around and found Jun's gaze locked on him, he couldn't stop the tip of his ears from turning pink.
The setting was so different from their usual one, and everything felt more intimate and special. But Dylan couldn't let it go to his head. Not yet. Not now.
So, he lay by Jun's side, and patted the covers on his lap, silently instructing him to rest there if he wanted to. He didn't know if Jun would prefer silence or if he'd want to talk about his life with his dog, so he let Jun set the pace for once.
Dylan tried to control his breathing when Jun's head landed on his thighs and he curled up in a ball on the bed again, fitting his entire frame on it. Dylan's hand instinctively landed in Jun’s hair, stroking from his temples to the back of his head. His hand brushed soft strands of hair up and down and to the sides.
Time dissolved and became meaningless as they breathed in tandem. Dylan did his best to be gentle without being too tender, though he wanted nothing more than to shower Jun with a thousand soft touches. Damn his heart for making it so hard to be there for his friend.
It got worse when Jun turned around to face Dylan's belly rather than the door, and started talking. Mostly it was about sweet and funny memories with Hatchi, who had seen Jun in pretty much every state possible.
Jun’s handsomeness wasn't some groundbreaking discovery, but Dylan so rarely got to be this close to him, unarmed, and it managed to take him by surprise. He couldn't tear his gaze away from Jun’s vulnerable face, which was full of grief with clear love running deep underneath it. Jun looked truly breathtaking, and Dylan's hands moved of their own accord from his hair to his cheeks, then back to his hair, then to his jaw, trying to map the terrain. He managed to keep his fingers off Jun's mouth, but barely, wondering what it would feel like under his fingertips.
He allowed himself take it all in, indulging in the fantasy despite usually refrained from thinking about kissing Jun. Sometimes he genuinely couldn't tell if he was simply attracted to Jun or had created an idealized version of him in his mind or if he'd really fallen for his bandmate despite everything making any type of relationship beyond friendship impossible. Thinking about it and trying to sort out what was true from what wasn’t often gave him headaches.
For now, letting Jun talk and letting his fingers unknot whatever tension had risen in Jun was enough. Even though such a tender moment would most likely have major rippling effects on his already compromised heart.
Eventually, Jun exhausted himself and fell asleep. Dylan didn't have the heart to wake him and move him, even though he knew how uncomfortable the position was. He drank in the sight of Jun sleeping on his lap, wishing it happened more often and hoping they could find some common ground and share more than bickering jabs.
His hands hadn't stopped moving; he was addicted to the texture of Jun's hair and the softness of his skin on his temples and cheeks. He also liked the roughness of the growing stubble on Jun’s jaw. He wondered what it would feel like to have Jun’s face pressed against his thighs with no barriers between them, be they clothes or bed sheets. Taking a deep breath, he brushed his thumb over Jun's lips once, pressing just enough to commit the feeling to memory before letting go. They were slightly dry and not as soft as he'd thought. Somehow, that only made him want to taste them more. He quickly took his finger away, feeling uncomfortable with the somersault of his heart and feeling like he was taking advantage of Jun's vulnerability. Touching him while he slept and without his consent or knowledge wasn't how Dylan wanted things to be.
The position was deeply uncomfortable, but if he moved, it would mean waking Jun up, who would most likely leave this bed. So, Dylan stayed where he was and tried to find sleep, daydreaming of dry lips brushing his own until his brain shut down for the night.
Dylan had expected to wake up to an empty bed, but instead he found himself lying on his side with his chest pressed to Jun's back. They must have moved in their sleep because now Dylan was spooning Jun, his arm draped over Jun’s chest and holding him close. Jun was seemingly still asleep, and Dylan didn't know whether it would be best to move and pretend that this had never happened or to let Jun wake up to them cuddling.
Dylan's heart kicked up a notch as Jun shifted slightly, inching a little bit closer and grabbing his forearm, holding him in place and making the decision for him.Waking up tangled with Jun was such a surreal moment, with Dylan’s breath fanning Jun's nape, and them sharing warmth and body heat. Never in his wildest dreams would Dylan have thought that this would become a reality. He wasn't sure his sanity would survive the night, let alone this morning.
He counted the seconds in his head, willing his heart rate to slow down. Being so close to Jun for so long was both a blessing and a curse. A thousand new lyrics popped into his head, but he’d probably never use them as they’d reveal too much about what his heart was hiding.
After what felt like hours, Jun started to stir, moving a little more and yawning. Jun squeezed his arm before inching away and turning to face him. If Dylan's heart had been beating erratically before, it was nothing compared to how it beat when he saw Jun’s sleepy face from up close. His hand itched to find its rightful place in Jun's hair again.
“Morning! You look cute with your hair all over the place,” Jun greeted, smiling in a way that made Dylan both melt and burn.
Dylan couldn’t bring himself to answer, paralyzed by too many conflicting emotions. His silence only widened Jun's smile, and he reached out to poke Dylan's rosy cheek.
“Are you shy?” Jun asked, sounding positively delighted.
Dylan forced himself to swat the hand away, even though he wanted nothing more than to have it press against his face longer and harder.
“Don't be stupid! I was simply dumbstruck by how ridiculous you look in the morning.”
Jun's chuckle was music to Dylan’s ears, and he felt his heart surge. He was doomed. This whole thing had been a nightmare for his fragile composure.
“Thanks for letting me stay,” Jun said lightly, completely oblivious to the storm he had started inside Dylan's mind.
Jun still wasn't moving away, and Dylan had half a mind to push him off the bed to create some much-needed distance because he was way too cute that early in the morning. Instead, though, his hand settled on Jun's hip and began drawing little circles over his shirt, as if Dylan had no control over his own body.
“Are you feeling better?”
“Hmm.” Jun nodded, his eyes glued to Dylan's face.
They were too close, sharing the same air. Dylan's gaze dipped to Jun's lips, and thoughts from the previous night rushed back in. His fingers tightened in Jun's t-shirt as he held on for dear life, trying to stop himself from doing something irreversible. It would be incredibly stupid because he was positive Jun didn't harbor a single romantic feeling for him.
But Jun's hand was back on his face, his fingers gently grazing on his cheek and jaw like feathers. Dylan stopped breathing, staring at Jun's lips and licking his own. He was incapable of hiding how much he craved to taste them. Years of hiding behind teasing and distance vanished with a single night of proximity.
It was only when Jun leaned in that Dylan's brain came back online. He jerked away, rolled to the other side and put his back to Jun, but that didn’t count Jun's stubbornness. Jun’s fingers slid up from the small of Dylan’s back to his shoulder, gripping tightly before moving higher to caress the side of his neck. Then, Jun gripped Dylan’s chin and forced him to turn his face.
“Do you want to kiss me, Dylan?”
Dylan hated this, hated every single second of being put on the spot, of having to face Jun right then and there with his thoughts and desires exposed. Still, he chose the easiest route: lying.
“No.”
He pulled his face out of Jun's grip and faced the wall again, his feet dangling from the bed. A strong part of him wanted to flee, to claim that he would start breakfast and get out of there as fast as possible. But a smaller, more insidious part of him, wanted to see what Jun was about to do, so he stayed rooted to the spot. He listened to the bed creak and the sheets rustle as Jun moved closer.
His breath hitched when Jun's arm wrapped around his waist and pulled him back against his warm, strong body. Jun's head settled on his shoulder, his breath fanning Dylan’s cheek even before he opened his mouth.
“You sure about this, baby?”
Dylan closed his eyes tightly, begging his heart for a reprieve before he passed out.
“Don't play with me, Jun.” He hated how pleading his voice sounded. He never asked Jun for anything, but he couldn't bear to play whatever game Jun was thinking about right now.
“That's not an answer.”
How could he move away when his whole body craved the warmth of Jun's body behind him? Yes, he wanted to kiss him. He wanted so much more than that. But you can't tame a shameless flirt unless he wants to be tamed. And Dylan couldn't really think of any reason why Jun would want to be tamed, let alone be tamed by him.
The arm that had snaked around his waist tightened its grip while the other hand rose to the hinge of his jaw once again, pressing and pushing him to turn his face until Jun's breath landed on his lips instead of his cheek.
“Open your eyes, Dyl.”
Dylan’s eyes plunged straight into Jun’s dark chocolate orbs, which seemed to be full of twinkling lights.
“Why are you so afraid of letting yourself want me? Have I done anything to make you think I'd be a terrible boyfriend?”
Was Dylan dreaming? This conversation was giving him whiplash. How had he gone from waking up cuddling with Jun to having a conversation in which Jun implied that he could be Dylan's boyfriend? Jun surely was just messing with his heart and mind.
“Be serious.”
“Oh but I'm very serious Dylan. I've always been serious about you. You're the one who refuses to face things head on. And I'd very much like to know why. Why are you so adamant about pushing me away when you clearly like me?”
Had Jun always known? Had Dylan been so obvious all this time that Jun had known about his crush on him for a while?
“Because you don't like me back, so why bother?”
“Says who? You've never asked, Dylan. And I thought—I don't know. Sometimes I felt like I was imagining things, or that Nano's words were getting to me. But last night and this morning? You clearly care for me. So why are you trying so hard to bury your feelings?”
Dylan felt bile rise in his throat. How could he even begin to explain the overwhelming feelings that consumed him whenever he thought about what could be? There was so much at stake, most of which wasn’t even related to Jun. There were too many ways for things to go wrong and ruin everything for MARS if they broke up on bad terms. MARS was everything to Dylan—his safe place, his family.
“I—” Dylan tried to speak, but he couldn’t get any words out.
His hands turned clammy and sweat dripped down his back, soaking his shirt where Jun’s body heat pressed against him. He watched the light dim in Jun’s eyes as his breathing became more labored and panic rose. His imagination had never really gone past hookups. A proper relationship? He couldn’t entertain the thought because he would fall so hard for Jun there would be no turning back. He couldn’t breathe or articulate his thoughts, nor could he produce any sound.
Jun moved before Dylan could process his own thoughts and feelings. Jun got off the bed, stood in front of Dylan, and put his hands on Dylan’s shoulders. He rubbed Dylan’s skin to comfort him.
“You know I’ll never force you, right? I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable.”
Dylan didn’t even know why he was panicking. Too many emotions were flooding his brain, and he couldn’t organize them like he usually did. He’d simply never expected Jun to think of him that way. The realization that he might have been wrong was overwhelming. He hated that Jun felt the need to apologize when none of this was his fault whatsoever. He’d always been himself, never changing no matter how many years passed. But Dylan was too guarded. He’d always known it would come back to haunt him one day.
“I didn’t realize it was this bad. I just—shit, Dylan, please breathe. You’re scaring me. Do you want me to stop talking?”
Dylan shook his head and grabbed onto Jun’s shirt, pulling him closer. He buried his face in Jun’s stomach, hoping the physical contact would ground him or calm him down enough to talk. The roles were reversed as Jun’s hands settled in his hair, massaging his scalp and brushing his hair.
“You’re safe, Dyl. I promise.” Dylan hung onto every muffled word, one of his ears pressed to Jun’s shirt. “I really like you, Dylan. I’m not sure if I’ve ever made that clear, so I’m telling you to know. Sometimes, I feel like you might like me back. I catch you looking at me quite often, you know? I thought—Maybe it was just wishful thinking on my part. I guess what I’m trying to say is that if you don’t want a relationship, that’s fine. But I’d like to know what I did wrong to make you dismiss the idea so easily.”
The thought that Jun could have done anything wrong prompted Dylan to take action. He pulled back, forcing himself to take deep breaths and push back the anxiety and panic induced by the conversation. He was an adult and needed to start acting like it. It was silly to get so worked up over this. It was even sillier than Jun being sad about his dog passing away.
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” he managed, coughing in between words to force them out.
“Then why are you always pushing me away? I don’t mind us bickering, but whenever I get close, you become meaner to reinforce your boundaries. I don’t really get it. We clearly get along when we’re not fighting, and well, I think this morning made it clear that we’re attracted to each other. So I don’t see why we couldn’t explore where this could go. I’m not asking you to marry me, Dylan.”
Dylan chuckled and then coughed. His brain was a tangle of thoughts, and he was struggling to organize them enough to form coherent sentences that made sense. Which was probably why he blurted out:
“The issue is that I would probably say yes if you asked.”
“Huh? Say yes to what? Sorry, I lost the thread of the conversation here.”
Dylan took a deep breath and wiped his eyes, even though there were no tears. He gathered his strength and tried to look up at Jun as he spoke.
“If you asked me to marry you right now, I’d panic first, but then I’d probably say yes.”
“Oh.”
It was almost comical how Jun’s face transformed. Concern was replaced by awe and the most beautiful blush Dylan had ever seen. God, he was so in love with that man, and that was Dylan’s biggest problem. He didn’t do this. He had crushes and flings, but he didn’t have overwhelming urges to smother someone with love or wishes for an entire lifetime spent arguing over trivial matters. His feelings for Jun were always too big. They scared the hell out of Dylan because he didn’t know how to stop himself from overspilling. It was better to keep those feelings bottled up, because once they got out, he’d never be able to put them back in the box where they came from.
“Then—I’m afraid I don’t follow why you’re refusing to try.”
“What happens to MARS when it goes wrong?”
“When? Are you so sure it’s going to end badly? Do you think I’ll break your heart? Or cheat on you? What’s going on in your mind that you can see the end before it even begins?”
Nothing good ever lasted. Wasn’t that one of life’s biggest lessons? Even MARS had almost come to an end twice, and they’d barely managed to rebuild it after losing everything. Was Dylan really supposed to gamble his entire future on uncontrollable feelings?
“I don’t believe in fairy tales, Jun. They lived happily ever after? That’s a load of bullshit. MARS means everything to us both, and it far outweighs everything else as far as I’m concerned.”
“So what? Are you willing to bury your heart under a ton of concrete and cage yourself in order to protect something that has already endured so much and survived?”
Why was Jun getting angry? Dylan was doing them both a favor by saving them from heartbreak and disappointment. How would this even work? Dylan snapped at anyone who dared breathe a little too close to him. Jun’s patience had its limits, and he’d end up fed up by Dylan’s thousand protective layers, always finding new ones under the ones he’d finally managed to peel off.
“You’d get bored of me eventually.”
Dylan knew he’d won the argument when Jun took a step back and removed his hands from Dylan’s hair. He could tell he’d hurt Jun, perhaps more deeply than Jun himself had anticipated. But it was fine. Jun would get over it and find someone who was cheerier and more comfortable in their own skin. Someone who would match his sense of humor and care about him as much as Jun cared about everyone else. Someone who would give more than they got and make him feel safe and seen like Jun sometimes did for Dylan.
“You can’t argue with a wall,” Jun mumbled under his breath before fully retreating, grabbing his phone from the nightstand and heading for the door. “I hope you’ll learn to open yourself up one day. Be it with me or someone else. I don’t give up easily, but I’m only human. I might not wait forever for you to let me in. I think we’d be good together, but I won’t force your hand. Thanks for last night. It was—well, that’s how it could be like if you gave me a chance. For the record, I don’t think I could ever get bored with you. But I don’t have a crystal ball, so you’ll have to take my word for it.”
With those words, Jun left, leaving Dylan to stare at the wall in front of him, tears of anger threatening to spill. How dare Jun be so nice and have so much faith? Why wasn’t he forcing Dylan’s hand and making the choice for him? The worst part was that Dylan would follow him blindly wherever he went. If Jun told him they should try, Dylan would let them try. But if you asked him, his overthinking would take the exit ramp every single time because he couldn’t bear the risk of getting hurt alone. He needed someone to push him off the edge; otherwise, he’d never jump.