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he has to close all the cupboards.
it hits him with a strong realization, a suffocating feeling in his lungs, pins and needles in his fingertips. he has to close all the cupboards, taeyong had left them open again. and there he is, sitting opposite jaehyun, on his phone and a cup of coffee in front of him. the coffee must be lukewarm already, they have been sitting there for a while, in complete silence. it's something between 11am and 12pm but all jaehyun can think of is that he has to close all the cupboards.
he swallows. mouth dry, he doesn't want to seem weird. it's weird of taeyong to want him at all, would he still want him if he has compulsive needs to close all the cupboards? would he? taeyong knows but would he leave him? just for that? jaehyun swallows, suffocating. he sips his water but it can't drown him, so he looks away, out of the window. in the playground, there are children. sometimes when they have windows open he can hear them yelling and screaming, and sometimes, jaehyun misses being a child. running around the playground, not having a numbing anxiety over cupboards. his legs are shaking quite a bit.
"what do you think about children?" jaehyun asks but he doesn't dare to look at taeyong. they have been together for three and half years and he wonders what would it be like to raise a kid with him. it's a casual question, nothing big, he won't think jaehyun is weird, he won't, he tells himself.
"i like them even though they can be loud and irritating, why?" taeyong replies. jaehyun doesn't look at him. there's a boy in a swing, his dark hair flat on his forehead. glasses of water can't replace the ocean, jaehyun thinks.
"it's nothing", he shakes his head, turning to look at taeyong. his hair is dark brown now and it suits him, but honestly, everything seems to suit him. everything compliments his skin tone and fragile figure, lean but strong. taeyong knows about his tendencies to get shaky, worry about the cupboards, closing them, they can't be open. toilet seats must be closed too, doors shut and it shouldn't be such big of a deal. jaehyun is ashamed. it's the deal with masculinity, don't cry, don't be a pissbaby, get over it, man up.
jaehyun carries an act of masculinity in his body, he is tall and has defined arms and an overall impressive athletic look in him, a thick neck and strong thighs. but he has a weak heart, in the most metaphorical way he can think of, he won't handle it. he can't handle it, but it's the complex, wanting to please others and not himself.
with taeyong though, it's the opposite. he is considered lean and even though he isn't really short, he is small, more fragile. but he is strong, has a strong heart, jaehyun knows. opposites don't really attract, it's a lie, but in a way, they do. taeyong is like the generic bad boy with knuckles smelling like cigarette smoke and jaehyun loves poetry. taeyong loves his poems and jaehyun loves to kiss his knuckles. it works, kind of.
jaehyun gets up. he refills his glass. closes the cupboards taeyong had left open.
"i'm sorry for that", taeyong says. it's a scary thing, him knowing that jaehyun can't deal with things like that. he hears a chair creaking against the floor as taeyong gets up even when he isn't looking.
"it's okay, don't worry about it", jaehyun replies but his voice is a little bit too thick. it's a bad day, he isn't always this weak, is he? or maybe he is, he doesn't really know but thoughts like that make his hands tremble so much he could potentially drop the glass. glass scattered on the floor with a small pool of water won't replace the ocean, he knows it.
he feels taeyong wrapping his arms around his torso and resting his forehead against jaehyun's neck. his body is warmth and closure, it's home and it could, potentially, replace the ocean. it's a stupid thought, really, but taeyong is safe in the way the ocean was back in busan when he was younger. talking to the sea when he felt so incredibly lost, alone.
"baby, it's not okay", taeyong says, his voice is low and soothing. jaehyun knows taeyong is terrified of falling in love and so is he, but they always make it work. he feels lips pressing a light kiss against his skin and he shudders.
jaehyun turns around just to have taeyong gently pushing him against the countertop. the cupboards are closed but for a second he is sure his heart stopped beating. there's stripes of lights falling from the sky, through the window to their kitchen. and taeyong looks so insanely pretty like that, the sunshine hitting his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. he feels like suffocating or kissing him. so jaehyun leans down a bit and kisses him on the lips. it tastes like coffee that's too strong and his skin smells like cigarettes and cologne, but he loves it. jaehyun loves the way their noses bump together and how taeyong holds him by his waist, his own hands on the older man's shoulders. he is afraid he might break. he isn't made of glass but bones and flesh, but jaehyun has bled many times. sometimes, taeyong hurts him, consensual. sometimes, taeyong hurts him but those times jaehyun doesn't bleed. it's closer to self destruction, really, a spiral made of thoughts that tell him things that shouldn't be true.
sometimes taeyong comes home with blood under his nose. sometimes he comes home with pupils blown wide and sometimes his breath stinks of alcohol but jaehyun loves him, the harsh edges and the bruising. jaehyun loves the way taeyong kisses him on the bathroom floor after he has cleaned his cuts, tasting blood on his lips. the older man is like that, a little bit reckless, not quite ready to grow up.
jaehyun looks straight into taeyong's eyes, dark brown reflecting the light. jaehyun used to smoke when he was younger, so he knows about addictions and taeyong in all of his glory is, simply put, just addictive. not toxic but he is burning him out, a day by day and god, does jaehyun love it. maybe he is a masochist under all the tissue.
it's a lazy sunday and he is glad taeyong has nowhere to be and neither does he. taeyong backs away a bit, a couple of steps but jaehyun wants to hold him, pull him in his arms. he is so goddamn tired with being over unnecessary things, screaming over cupboards, thinking everything into a poem or a metaphor.
"what are you thinking of?" taeyong asks and lifts his hand to caress jaehyun's cheek. he leans into the touch and shrugs.
"you know, the usual stuff", he replies. taeyong has made him more open in a way it's weird, but they are in a perfect balance.
"you're such a poet", he hums and jaehyun nods; he can see such adoration in his lover's eyes, it doesn't feel real but it is. jaehyun wonders if this is what they are supposed to be, if he and his unstable feelings are enough. he has a chaos inside of his mind, a rope pulled tight around his lungs, it's poetic and it's sad.
jaehyun looks away and taeyong drops his hand. the cupboards are closed and when he turns to look at taeyong, he is smiling. he looks younger like that, beautiful, but he always is. jaehyun feels like a kid compared to him, a university student but a student nevertheless and taeyong is turning 26. there isn't a start or an end with them, they aren't linear or chronological.
it doesn't make sense, his thoughts and taeyong knows it too.
"tell me what you're thinking", he says. jaehyun swallows and looks away. he isn't sure if it's supposed to be happening.
"i'm thinking..", he starts, hesitant, "i'm thinking about how your knuckles are bloody and bruised when you come home, and how your shirt smells like weed or how there's white powder around your nose. and how i romanticize heroin and cocaine and, and", jaehyun takes a deep breath.
"and how i still want you more and more everyday, and i wonder how would it be like to raise children with you. i'm thinking about the way your shirt creases when you roll around in bed after i've gotten up or how low and harsh your voice sounds when you tell me goodbye".
jaehyun pauses and taeyong keeps quiet because he knows that saying anything means the end.
"and i think about cupboards and how they shouldn't be open. i think about the ocean and how back in busan i laid on the cold sand and wished to drown but i can't drown, i've always been a good swimmer. also that no matter how many glasses of water i drink, they can't replace the ocean and neither can the city pools. you could though, which in a way makes sense because humans are 80% water. i can drown in you", jaehyun is rambling, he knows. his hands are shaking but he has to break down sometimes.
"and then i drown in you. it's like i can't breathe and it's suffocating but i fucking love the bliss it brings. you've cut me with knives and hit me with your palm and hurt me many times but i love it because i love you and the way you remind me of home even if you're the opposite of it".
jaehyun can feel his face heating up. embarrassing, embarrassing, he shouldn't have said that, taeyong will probably think it was stupid. like white girl poetry and jaehyun grabs the countertop behind him. but taeyong steps closer again and pulls him by his arm, says nothing and starts to walk. jaehyun follows him because well, he always will. it's too dramatic.
taeyong takes him to their living room and pulls him down on the couch. it's hard but they fit, laying next to each other. taeyong wraps his arms around him and he buries his face in the older man's chest, closing his eyes. jaehyun can feel him rubbing circles on his back, moving the fabric of his t-shirt along with his fingers. it's comforting, he takes a deep breath and it's the smell of smoke that brings him back to the reality. he keeps overreacting.
"i'm sorry", jaehyun mumbles. taeyong hums as a reply.
"you don't have to be. you feel like it but you're alright, baby. i love you", taeyong says and presses a kiss on the crown of jaehyun's hair. afraid of falling in love but he still says that he loves him.
"i love you too", jaehyun replies. it's the same deal, terribly afraid but diving in. there's something incredibly unstable within his feelings and actions, his being, but taeyong seems to be the only one who can deal with him. he knows that it isn't a cure, that taeyong can't just fix him with sweet nothings but it's enough for now. jaehyun licks his dry lips.
jaehyun is a poet; he is filled with metaphors and messy words, sayings that don't make sense, romanticizing sad and unnecessary things but it's how he deals with them. he is a poet, a desperate one. he is a poet but words are difficult and hard for him, but jaehyun thinks that maybe, maybe taeyong meets him somewhere in between of straight-forwardness he holds and the metaphors jaehyun uses. so maybe it isn't love, but something biological - an attraction, a good balance, but he can't find himself caring. whatever it is, taeyong can replace the ocean, or maybe he is something much more, something bigger. taeyong runs his fingers through jaehyun's hair and for a second, he feels calm and in peace. and if it's an illusion, a fake temporary feeling, then be it. jaehyun is drowning and god, does he love it.