Archive of Our Own

15^th January

Hyungwon’s birthday present is an empty room.

“I’ll help you put up some wallpaper,” Minhyuk says, next to him, fiddling with his hands. He keeps running his fingers over the knuckles, missing a digit every now and again. He hasn’t been still for more than a second since they first arrived at the empty apartment. “Maybe blue? You can decide.”

“We’ll need to buy some things. A lot of things,” Minhyuk says, gesturing to the floorboards.

That much was evident. 

“A bed, of course. You could bring your own from home. Or, I guess, we could buy one,” Minhyuk adds, his mouth dry. “I mean, if you want. You can say no.”

That was the one phrase Minhyuk kept repeating throughout their journey to the apartment building: ‘You can say no’.

Hyungwon had not said no. Hyungwon hadn’t said much at all. He feels like at some point he should say something, but words couldn’t pass the barrier of his lips.

When Minhyuk asked him what he wanted for his birthday, Hyungwon had replied with a sarcastic grin and “a nice night of sleep”. He did not expect… this.

“The rent is reasonable!” Minhyuk continues. He gestures to the window, waving his hands. “The view is amazing.”

The view is alright. Blocky houses, visible clothing lines, a bird’s nest. It’s so geometric, they’re all rectangles against the backdrop of the clouds. Hyungwon has been staring out of the window for so long he feels like it has been imprinted on his eyelids.

“It’s near the academy. Walking distance. It’s near a few convenience stores as well. Ninth floor is a little high, I know, but the view! A good view. A very good view.” He nods to himself.

“And who wouldn’t want to move in with their best friend?” Minhyuk says, spinning around, framing his face.

Hyungwon is finding it difficult to focus. He hasn’t been to this side of town often and everything is new, like it’s coated in mystery and Hyungwon seems unable to talk to the one familiar thing remaining in this place. He’s stunned, more than anything else. He wonders what it’ll be like to look out of this view every night before bed. How the little rectangles would look against a backdrop of night sky.

“Hyungwon?” Minhyuk finally says, his voice soft. “Can you let me in your head for a moment? I have no idea what you’re thinking.”

Hyungwon breaks his staring contest with the sky, and looks at Minhyuk. He was always shorter, but in the empty room he seemed absolutely tiny, like a passing breeze could knock him over.

“I love it,” Hyungwon finally says. “Our own place.”

“Our own place,” Minhyuk repeats, and the nervousness in his eyes diminishes. “Like we talked about, you know? No parents, no dorms, no Residence Advisors. Just us, two friends living by their own means and rules. We can be who we really are, without anyone else.”

It seems a little presumptuous to try and be who you are when Hyungwon isn’t entirely sure who that is. But Minhyuk seems so excited that Hyungwon figures he can get there with time. And, of course, the idea of being away from his parents’ hands is an enticing one and Hyungwon is keen to live life from somewhere other than his family home.

“I think this will be good for us, Hyungwon.” He paused, his eyes sweeping across the room. “I think we’ll be happy here.” Resting an arm around his waist, Minhyuk pulling him closer. “Come on, birthday boy, I’ll buy dinner.”

While Minhyuk grabs his wallet, Hyungwon lingers for a moment in the empty room, familiarizing himself with the ebbs and swells of the air circulating. The apartment is small, and as Minhyuk tells him, it has one or two leaks and needs serious cleaning, but Minhyuk describes the future with such vivid clarity that when Hyungwon’s eyes flutter close for a moment, he can imagine it.  He thinks he’ll like it here.

19^th January

“I’ve put us down for a year-long lease.”

Hyungwon nods, dumping the box of cutlery lovingly harvested from his parents’ house. His back aches, and sweats trickles down his neck. The elevator is temporarily out of order, but he assumes it’ll be fixed by tomorrow. He hopes. He makes an effort to stand up straight, to at least seem slightly less out of breath. He fails, nearly collapsing against the wall.

“That’s short,” Hyungwon comments.

Minhyuk nods. An apron is tied around his waist, and a feather duster protrudes from the pocket, lint clinging to the ends. He looks the picture of a late fifties suburban housewife. “I just wanted things to be flexible, you know? In case you want to leave.”

“I’m literally moving my boxes in, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says, tilting his head. “You know I’m serious about living here.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and dust trickles out like snowflakes. “I mean, you say so now, but we haven’t lived together before, you know? It might turn out horrible. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here. If we wanted to feel like that, we could have just stayed at home. I don't want to force you into anything.”

The undertone of Minhyuk's words suggests he’s been running in circles in his mind and Hyungwon smiles. “Minhyuk, I’m all in.” He stands up straighter.  “I want to be here. I’m happy living with you.”  

And Minhyuk seems to exhale a breath he was holding in for a week. “Yes. Yes, of course. I’m being silly. You didn’t steal all of your mother’s silverware for me to get all fixated on the idea of you leaving.”

“I’m going to start cleaning the bedroom windows. Can you put on the kettle and we can have coffee when I get back?” Hyungwon asks, sighing at the thought of the walk down.

“Of course, roomie,” Minhyuk replies, taking out the duster and evicting several spider webs from the fireplace.

The elbow grease required to get rid of the rain streaks painting the windows is unbearable – but it’s somehow lightened hearing Minhyuk humming under his breath as he cleans inside.

22^nd January

Their rooms are bare shells, husks of a potential home. At least there’s a bed now and Hyungwon flops down on the mattress when it’s not even past nine yet.

Muscles ache from carrying boxes up nine flights of stairs. The building manager so kindly informed him the elevators were still being repaired and the dust present in the apartment doesn’t seem to reduce no matter how much they both try. It's easy to become a little despondent on how their dreams of an idealistic apartment life are crumbling like the tiles in the bathroom.

They could have asked for help from their parents. Siblings. Friends. They could have probably ran out on the street and asked anyone to pitch up with a broom and assist in assembling furniture.

But there’s a sort of unspoken agreement between him and Minhyuk. This is their apartment, and if that means they have to do everything themselves, that’s just fine. Because it’s theirs.

The whole place is so devoid of furniture it echoes at the slightest of sounds, and when Hyungwon hears footsteps approach his room door, he internally sighs. He rolls over onto his back and lazily glances up to see Minhyuk hanging on the doorframe.

“Hi roomie,” Minhyuk says.

“Hello,” Hyungwon says, attempting to keep the tiredness out of his voice.

“Going to have an early night?”

Hyungwon figures the fact that he’s currently wrapped in his sheets is sufficient evidence. “I’m really tired. Is there a box I forgot to bring up or something?”

“No, not at all. I just came to say goodnight!” Minhyuk says brightly.

“Oh,” Hyungwon says, eyebrows furrowing. “I… didn’t expect that.”

“What’s the point of living together if we don’t say goodnight to each other? It’s better than our usual thing of texting until you pass out and you wake up to fifty texts from me asking if you’ve died.”

Hyungwon’s lips unconsciously curve upwards at the memory. “Yeah, this is definitely an improvement.”

Minhyuk looks around the shell of Hyungwon's room enraptured. “I’m excited, you know? We’ve got so much stuff to do, but I feel like once we’ve got everything sorted, we’re really gonna like it here. We can stay up late watching movies, and cook dinner together and play games, and it’s just… gonna be great,” Minhyuk says, trailing off.

“That sounds kind of perfect,” Hyungwon says, suddenly wishing his fatigue would disappear so he could start on those dreams right now. “I can’t wait.”

“Yeah,” Minhyuk says. “Me neither. Get your rest, sleepyhead, we’ve got a big day of moving in ahead of us.” 

 “Goodnight, Minhyuk.”

“Goodnight,” he replies, and the last thing Hyungwon sees before he switches the light off is Minhyuk’s blinding grin. 

1^st February

Hyungwon learns some new things after living with Minhyuk.

1. He pours milk in before the cereal, and he’s intensely fond of eating cereal for dinner. It’s strange, abnormal even, but he seems to enjoy it.
2. He’d rather drink from the same cup twice than wash the dishes. He’s awful at dishes in general, placidly placing plate after plate atop the mountain forming in the sink.
3. He likes to walk around barefoot.
4. His voice in the morning is raspier than usual, and when his heavy-lidded eyes meet Hyungwon’s across the table, and Minhyuk grunts out a “good morning”, he sounds nice. Really nice. Possibly the nicest he’s ever sounded.

22^nd February

It’s been a month since they’ve moved in, and Hyungwon is riddled mixed emotions about living with his best friend. He’d been warned by his family members and other friends that being roommates was by no means the eternal celebration of friendship that it may seem, and that tension can grow in such an intimate, enclosed environment. He'd also just assumed this was his mother's attempts at blackmailing him to stay home.

It’s fun, of course it is, but it’s also maddening. For every movie night with pizza that ends in them falling asleep on the couch in front of the fireplace, there’s a day where Hyungwon slams his door shut to avoid having to see the decaying state of the kitchen.

 The apartment grows gradually filthier until Hyungwon snaps and impulse buys a vacuum cleaner, using an entire Sunday to clean the house till the smell of old food leaves the air and the dishes balanced precariously in the sink are washed.

Minhyuk doesn’t help much, he awkwardly dusts a bookshelf and airs out the couch cushions – but after that day he does at least try to be neater. A little. Sort of.

And Hyungwon supposes that’s enough for now.

18^th March

He’d known the flu was spreading around and had popped Vitamin C pills like they were candy. He sanitized his hands after touching every doorknob, and then sanitized the bottle of hand sanitizer, just to be that little bit extra careful.

It’s pointless though, isn’t it, because they’re walking home one night from the academy as usual and Minhyuk starts sneezing and he doesn’t stop. He barely makes it up the stairs and into the bathroom before he’s violently throwing up in the toilet, and Hyungwon hesitates outside the door.

Of course, he should help, it’s his role as a good human being and as someone who is also forced to use that shared bathroom. But also, he’d rather not deal with the various substances leaving Minhyuk at heightened speeds. His role as nurse is unfortunately thrust upon him when he hears a weak voice from the bathroom.

“Hyungwon,” Minhyuk moans, “I think I’m sick.”

Hyungwon is less than happy to have to spend the whole night walking up and down from Minhyuk’s room to the kitchen, swabbing his forehead with a damp towel and attempting to force him to drink water.

“My throat hurts. I don’t want to drink anything.”

“You’re losing fluids.”

“Good, I don’t want fluids! They’re all horrible!”

Minhyuk is many things, and as Hyungwon now discovers, a horrible patient is one of them. He cries a lot, he moans, he regresses to a childlike state, he blasphemes several different deities, and throughout it all, he never bothers to thank Hyungwon or at least cover his nose when he sneezes.

“I think I’m going to die,” Minhyuk announces after a loud, phlegmy cough.

“I’ll take care of your family,” Hyungwon replies, handing Minhyuk another tissue.

“Tell my mother I love her.”

“I always do.”

Minhyuk scowls and would probably have launched in a reproach for his careless words, but Hyungwon is spared as Minhyuk launches into another coughing fit. Hyungwon steps back from Minhyuk’s bed and washes his hands again. Then, another time, just to be sure.

When he finally passes out from fever and exhaustion, Hyungwon settles in the other side of his bed, already acknowledging he’s not going to get any sleep tonight. He supposes Minhyuk would be fine by himself now that he’s unconscious, but despite how horrible Minhyuk was as a patient, Hyungwon didn’t think it would be nice for him to wake up to an empty room.

He opens up a manga lying on Minhyuk’s bedside table and thumbs through it, occasionally catching a peek at Minhyuk’s fitful sleeping.

It’s been increasingly hard to find sympathy for him, but it’s easier now that he’s no longer actively complaining. Hyungwon strokes the stray bronze hairs out of his eyes, massaging his scalp with his free hand as he continues to read. His skin is burning hot, but Hyungwon doesn’t move his hand.

Minhyuk doesn’t wake up, but his sleep is calmer. 

23^rd March

“I hear the flu’s going around,” Hansol tells him as they wait in line at the sushi restaurant.

“Trust me. I know.”

2^nd April

“And how’s Minhyuk?” his sister’s voice increases in excitement and volume and Hyungwon pulls the phone slightly away from his ear.

“Minhyuk is fine,” Hyungwon replies, adding far more emphasis than necessary. “He’s great. Never been better.”

“Can I speak to him?”

Hyungwon mentally rebukes himself for ever having introduced his family to Minhyuk. Of course they’d absolutely adore him, what was Hyungwon thinking? They’d all been instantly taken with him, dying to talk to him privately, and sometimes Hyungwon wondered if his mother only sent food over because she wanted to get a thank you phone call from Minhyuk.

“He’s, uh, not here anymore,” Hyungwon says, and instantly regrets his phrasing when he hears the gasp from Hyewon.

“What do you mean?! Where is he?” she demands. “Did you kick him out or something?”

He lowers the volume on his phone. “No! It’s nothing like that, I misspoke. Calm down. Minhyuk’s just in the shower.”

Minhyuk, who was very much not in the shower and is currently sitting on a barstool at the island counter, a spoonful of yoghurt in his mouth, raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, alright then. Gosh, Hyungwon, couldn’t you have said that to begin with?” Hyewon chides in that particular tone only an older sibling can use. “You made me worry.”

Hyungwon makes eye contact with Minhyuk, hoping his pleading expression stops him from asking any questions. “He’s fine. Really. He’s great. I saw him this morning and he had a healthy glow surrounding him. He’s been eating lots of vegetables.”

“What vegetables?” Hyewon presses.

“Uh. Peas. And tell Mom that as well before I get another phone call enquiring about his health.”

The corner of Minhyuk’s mouth curve upwards and he attempts to laugh as quietly as possible. Hyungwon barely listens to his sister’s tangent, tuning in for the last part of her sentence.

“…and he was not happy. You need to call more often.”

“I know. I’ll try,” Hyungwon says, pacing around the kitchen counter.

“Okay. Fine,” Hyewon says, her voice signalling a conclusion. “I’m glad you’re well and Minhyuk is too. Send him my regards, okay?”

“I will.”

“Love you!” Hyewon sings.

“I do too.”

“Say it, Hyungwon.”

“I love you too,” Hyungwon complies and ends the call before Hyewon adds anything further.

Minhyuk is eating another spoonful when Hyungwon turns to him, bracing himself for the explanation he is about to give. “So, why am I allegedly in the shower?”

“It was Hyewon. She was asking about you, and she’d just waste your time, you know how she is. Wants the full story. Don’t worry about it,” Hyungwon says quickly.

Minhyuk sets his face in an expression of mock offense. “Hyungwon, come on, I’ve eaten at your family’s dinner table a great many times. I don’t mind talking to them, you know? I like them.” His face breaks into a smile. “Hyewon is wonderful.”

“Ugh, please, you don’t need to feel obligated to talk to them.”

“I really don’t mind. It’ll make her happy. Go on, call her back.” Minhyuk pushes the forgotten yoghurt bowl away, and looks at Hyungwon expectantly.

“Are you sure?”

Minhyuk bounces up and neatly takes the phone from his hand. “I’ll do it myself.” He unlocks the pattern passcode on his first try and smiles at the lockscreen. “This was such a cute selfie of us. It’s so old though, we should take a new one soon. My hair is much better now.” Without giving Hyungwon a chance to respond to the criticism of his lockscreen or the knowledge that Minhyuk knew his passcode, Minhyuk already has the phone next to his ear.

Hyungwon stares, slightly in disbelief as Minhyuk starts talking.

“Hyewon? Hello! It’s Minhyuk. Yeah, I just got out of my shower. Hyungwon told me you called and I nearly slipped out of the bathroom in my rush to talk to you. It’s been so long, how’s my favourite girl doing?”

And Hyungwon can’t quite make out the words in his sister’s reply but her voice sounds excited when she replies.

Minhyuk has that sort of charisma that Hyungwon can't even fathom. It's mystifying how people do not instantly fall in love upon meeting Minhyuk when he exudes an energy like no other, sheer positivity and brightness.

“Of course, of course, you need to keep me updated on how your doctorate’s going as well. Just a second, your brother’s awkwardly staring at me and I’m wondering if he doesn’t have anything better to do,” Minhyuk says pointedly.

“Oh. Uh. Yeah, alright,” Hyungwon says feeling oddly like he’s being dismissed from his own family. He takes off a cereal box from the top of the fridge and focuses on making his breakfast, trying not to eavesdrop on Minhyuk’s conversation but doing so anyway.

“You know I always do. Hyungwon’s lucky to have a sister like you,” he hears Minhyuk say. “Yes, we've been eating peas quite a bit lately.”

Hyungwon, a good son, who can't lie to his family that much, sighs as he adds peas to the grocery list, right underneath dinosaur-shaped cream puffs.

There’s a pause and then Minhyuk laughs. “I’m sure he does, he doesn’t need to say it in quite those exact words. He’s not nearly as eloquent as you are.”

Minhyuk catches Hyungwon’s eye and grins. “Actually? Yeah. I know he does.”

He says his farewell to Hyewon, promising to talk again soon, and wishing her a good week ahead, and hands the phone back to Hyungwon, a triumphant glint in his eyes.

“That was a fun conversation! She’s so lovely. You should be nicer to her,” Minhyuk replies, digging into his yoghurt.

“What did she ask you?” Hyungwon inquires, failing to keep the curiosity out of his voice.

Minhyuk hesitates. “Well, that’s between me and Hyewon, isn’t it? Call her more often and ask her yourself. It’s nothing bad, try not to worry.”

It’s not quite a ‘moment’ as much as the singular brushing past of a moment on the way to the next interaction. It’s seconds where nothing happens and nothing is said but Hyungwon catches Minhyuk's glance and there’s a pause of sustained eye contact. It’s longer than it should be.

And then it ends, and Hyungwon puts down the cereal box and Minhyuk eats another spoonful. A dollop smudges onto his nose and Hyungwon smirks at the sight, turning around, and resumes pouring his milk.

6^th April

“Are you sure you don’t want to come out with me?” Hyungwon asks, lingering in the doorway. “It’s just me and a few friends. You get along with Hansol. It’ll be fun!”

Hansol had spun him a story of a club with a dancefloor ripe with idols, an intoxicating atmosphere of smoke and expensive liquor and the best company around, and despite himself, Hyungwon felt taken with this fantasy. When Hansol suggested meeting up on Friday night after practice and experiencing it for themselves, Hyungwon jumped at the opportunity.

Minhyuk, face red, dripping with sweat, shakes his head. “I’ve gotta practice, I’m having so much problems with this dance. And you know I’m not much of a drinker, anyway.”

“You don’t have to drink,” Hyungwon reasons, trying to stop the pout that he knows is forming. “You can just have a good time!”

Minhyuk smiles a bit at his persistence. “Go have fun. I’ll see you at home. Try not to stay out too late. We’ve gotta get up early.”

7^th April

Hyungwon fingers fail at entering the passcode to his front door two times. The first time he genuinely forgot the code, vaguely remembering Minhyuk mentioned that the code should be their birthdays put together, but forgetting the order. There was a ‘9’ in there somewhere, but evidently not where Hyungwon thought it was. The second time he just sort of gave up halfway through punching it in, and slumped against the wall, his arm dropping and hand hitting all the buttons on the way. He knocked on the door, far too loudly for 4am.

The throbbing in his head matched the rhythm at which he knocked, and when the door swung open to reveal a bleary-eyed Minhyuk, he belatedly realized that while he didn’t care if his neighbours sleep was disrupted, he didn’t want his roommate to share that fate.

“Hyungwon? God, I thought you got home hours ago,” Minhyuk says, checking in the hallway before pulling Hyungwon inside, closing the door behind him.

It’s still dark in the lounge, and Hyungwon makes a half-hearted attempt to turn on the lights but Minhyuk gets there faster. In the illumination, he can now see the dark rings under Minhyuk’s eyes and his dishevelled hair. He must have been genuinely sleeping.

“What happened?” Minhyuk asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, yawning.

“Oh man, Minhyuk, you should have gone. It was like… amazing,” Hyungwon murmurs, eyes starry. “The club was amazing. We saw someone who’s name I can’t say for legal reasons but wow, I never knew they could grind like that in public. Then we ran into one of Seungyoon’s friend, and we changed clubs because they told us about a sword eater performing, and then I think someone gave us a round of free shots?” Hyungwon says, framing it as a question, and quickly recognizing that Minhyuk would not have the answer, he continues. “My head is killing me. God, it’s killing me. I hope the others got home safe. I lost a lot of them along the way.”

“How did you get home safe?” Minhyuk asks, a hint of irritability in his voice as he enters the adjoining kitchen, switching the faucet on.

“Uh. Good question,” Hyungwon says, attempting to rack his brain for the answer. He was in a car at some point, he remembers holding Hyerin’s hair back when she threw up and that was definitely out of a taxi window. “Taxi, I think. No idea who paid. Hope it wasn’t me, it was probably a fuck lot of money.”

Minhyuk mutters something under his breath which sounds suspiciously like ‘dumbass’ and shoves a glass of water to Hyungwon. “Drink.”

“I’ve had enough to drink,” Hyungwon declines.

“Yes, that’s abundantly clear, but this isn’t really a choice.” Minhyuk pushes the glass further. “Drink.”

Hyungwon would have been willing to debate further but Minhyuk’s eyebrows are tightly furrowed together, and he seems genuinely pissed off, and Hyungwon takes the first sip from the glass.

“Do you think you’ll throw up?” Minhyuk has his eyes on the bathroom wearily as if ready to escort him at the slightest inclination of sickness. 

“Maaaaaybe?” Hyungwon says, waving his hand from side to side.

“Hyungwon, a direct answer, that’s literally all I want. I just need to know whether to move you into the toilet or not,” Minhyuk groans, flopping down on a bar stool next to him.

“You can go back to sleep. I didn’t mean to bother you,” Hyungwon apologizes. “Really. Honestly. I’m sorry.”

Minhyuk’s expression softens. “You weren’t bothering me. I mean, I’m annoyed you woke me up and you’re too drunk to stand up straight, but there’s no point telling you that now. You’ve already drifted off.”

It takes Hyungwon several minutes to realize Minhyuk stopped talking. “Sorry. I was thinking about which Girls Generation member is my favourite and I can’t remember. Who is it?”

“Tiffany,” Minhyuk answers promptly. “But that’s really irrelevant. Hyungwon, how much did you even drink? Can you give me any sort of number?”

“Ten.”

“Ten what? Shots? Glasses? Bottles?”

“Ten out of ten. Because that’s what you are,” Hyungwon says, carelessly shooting finger guns, and Minhyuk’s expression is somewhere between amused and exasperated.

“Glad to know you appreciate my good looks. And here I was, thinking that you just keep me around because I pay half the rent.” Minhyuk gestures to the glass. “Keep drinking, pal. You’re in for a rough hangover. I haven’t seen you this far gone in about a year. Hope you had a good night.”

“I did! But…” Hyungwon puffs his lips out. “I’m sorry that I woke you.”

“It’s okay, Won. I’d rather you wake me than sneak in when you’re in this kind of condition,” Minhyuk says. “When you’re done drinking, I’ll put you to bed. I’m still waking you up for practice tomorrow, though. If you’re sober enough to use full sentences, you’re sober enough to go through choreography.”

“Ughhhhhhh,” Hyungwon moans, leaning on the counter, fully stretching his arms out. “That’s horrible. I should just die in my sleep.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Won. That’s more my thing. You don’t do it half as good as I do, anyway.”

Hyungwon tilts his head to look at Minhyuk. He’s sitting in his pyjamas with his arms crossed, looking at him with such an expression of fond amusement that it brings a blush to his cheeks.

“Thanks Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says, lifting the glass. “For making sure I don’t die of alcohol poisoning.”

“I literally just poured you a glass of water and opened the door, but sure, I’ll take sole credit for that.”

Abruptly, Hyungwon attempts to sit up straight, turning his stool closer to Minhyuk. He woke up from sleep to open the door just because Hyungwon couldn’t seem to use the damn keypad. He had to realize this wasn’t just an expected act of friendship. It meant something to Hyungwon. “No, no, I’m serious. Thank you. You’re like my guardian angel. I feel like you’re always looking out for me.”

“That’s a bit of a striking proclamation, but nothing new,” Minhyuk replies, his voice softer. “You should know by now I’m always behind you.”

“But I don’t really thank you, do I?” Hyungwon thinks out loud. “I’m just… used to it, by now. God, it was so weird when I met you. I never had a best friend like that before and you came out of nowhere and suddenly I felt like I could tell you everything. Now when you’re not with me, it just feels like something’s off,” Hyungwon says, and this feels right, it feels good to just talk without worrying if the words are right.

Minhyuk’s eyes widen. “I didn’t know I was your first close friendship.”

“I suppose there were others, but there was never anyone like you. How presuming of me to think there’s someone close to the kind of person you are in the universe,” Hyungwon says. “I think I’m wiser now, at least about you. I know you, and I know that you are the single most unique individual in this universe. I feel like sometimes I’m just some stray pebble in your orbit. You carry on with or without me. But I’d need you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

There’s a breath of silence that lasts for too long, and Hyungwon figures this must mean he should continue talking, because if Minhyuk wanted him to stop, he would have said it. Right? That’s right. His vision is getting blurry now, but his words aren’t.

“I shouldn’t say this.” He pauses.

“If you think you shouldn’t say it, then you shouldn’t,” Minhyuk says, very carefully. “I don’t want you to regret it in the morning.”

But he wants to. And he says that and Minhyuk bites his lip but makes no further protests.

“I was worried that when we moved in together it would be horrible. We’d end up fighting all the time and we’d stop being friends. That you’d get to know me too well and you’d just end up hating me. And then I was worried that the same would happen to me about you.”

Hyungwon pauses. His throat is growing dry, and he takes another gulp of water.

“And did that happen?” Minhyuk asks, his voice fearful and Hyungwon looks at him.

“No, no, that didn’t happen at all,” Hyungwon says, soothingly, laying a hand out on the countertop, an open but casual invitation. “I’ve just…” Hyungwon pauses. “What’s a word that’s like falling? I guess it is falling. I’ve just fallen more and more into you. It’s like you’re some sort of gravitational pull. I feel like with you I’m always hurtling forward to a singular point. Is that a bad thing?”

“I… I don’t know, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk says, his eyes fixed on the outstretched hand in front of him. “I don’t really know where this is coming from, and how much of this is really you, and how much is the drinks.”

“No, no, this is all me!” Hyungwon exclaims, standing up. He wobbles slightly, and almost stumbles until he stands in front of Minhyuk, and he looks so small and sleepy in his light blue pyjamas that Hyungwon forces himself to resist the urge to scoop him up into his arms, if for the sole reason he may trip and they’d both fall.

“Minhyuk, I just don’t think I tell you enough how much I care about you.” And Hyungwon finds confidence he didn’t think he had, and lays a hand on Minhyuk’s cheek, tenderly padding his fingertips over the soft skin. “I really do care about you. So much. More than I should.”

Minhyuk is staring up at Hyungwon, and Hyungwon is becoming alarmingly aware how close his… everything is to Minhyuk. He can count the individual eyelashes on his eyelids. He can see the way his lips part with each breath he takes, and he can feel the heat exuding from him. He ‘isn’t really thinking’ is the excuse he gives himself when he lets his thumb brush past Minhyuk’s lower lip, caressing the sensitive skin. It falls open slightly. It’s moist. It’s soft. It’s nice. A soft whimper fills the room, and Minhyuk’s eyes seem to hold an emotion that can’t be named.

His breath is hot on his thumb, and neither moves, frozen, suspended in a single flawless moment dangling from a spider’s thread.

It’s like he’s spinning on the thread, spinning in orbit, and he can’t take his eyes off who’s in front of him, and everything is too quiet, too unmoving, and Minhyuk’s eyes flutter closed and Hyungwon has no thoughts, only feelings when he leans in –

But his lips never connect, and then Minhyuk is moving back, stepping out of the chair, breaking the point of contact as Hyungwon’s hand falls uselessly to his side.

“What?” Hyungwon asks, wondering if he had grossly misread the situation. He doesn’t really have the capability to account for his own actions at this point, but Minhyuk seemed receptive. His eyes had a fiery look in them, like before they burned, they’d warm first.

“Hyungwon, you’re catastrophically intoxicated,” Minhyuk says, after a long exhale. “You need to go sleep.”

“But-”

“No.” Minhyuk takes another step back. “Not like this.”

The thread snaps.

“I’m not that drunk,” Hyungwon protests but when he attempts to move closer, his feet catch on the carpet and he holds onto the counter to stop himself catapulting to the ground. The world continues spinning around him even when he stops moving.

“Minhyuk-” Hyungwon begins. Minhyuk shakes his head, walking ahead to Hyungwon’s room and opening the door for him.

“Go sleep, Won. You’re tired. You’re drunk. You’re saying things you don’t mean. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Hyungwon wishes to rewind time, just a few seconds back with his hand on Minhyuk’s cheek, that was nice. This isn’t.

“I… I had more things to say. That I really do want to say.” Hyungwon’s mind, usually vaulted shut, was pried open and all he wanted to do was tell Minhyuk everything he couldn’t. Words were difficult and Hyungwon… Hyungwon was not a brave man. He just wants to tell him in no uncertain terms how much he likes him, how much he cares for him, how moving in with him was the best decision even though sometimes it hurts when other people's gazes linger on him for too long and Hyungwon’s not sure why. Hyungwon wants to tell him now, because he’s not sure if he’ll be able to tomorrow, or ever.

“I’ll be here tomorrow,” Minhyuk says, ushering Hyungwon inside.

He falls on the bed, on top of the covers, and lets out a groan as his headache seems to amplify at the motion.

“Try and get some rest. Goodnight, Hyungwon.”

Hyungwon wakes up to a glass of water, aspirin and a throbbing head. A text from Minhyuk informs him that he covered for him at practice today. He sighs, taking the aspirin, and falling back on the bed, attempting to separate what happened in his dreams and what actually happened. The only thing he’s really certain of is that Minhyuk stopped by his room to say goodnight, as he always did.

He never quite manages to figure out exactly what happens and Minhyuk never presses him further, and the whole event just sort of fades from his mind. It just becomes a memory of a night that seemed more like a dream.

12th May

Hyungwon is on his hands and knees, his fingers clenching into the tufted carpet, his back protesting the movement.

“Do you have good news for me?” Minhyuk asks, kneeling next to him, placing a hand on his spine, nudging him down further. “Any chance you found my favourite ring? I lost it when we moved in and I’ve missed it ever since.”

“Nope, no ring. Found about twenty dirty tissues and cash,” Hyungwon says, jerking a thumb to the pile next to him. Minhyuk wastes no time in eagerly digging among the tissues and dust to find the banknote.

Hyungwon groans as he attempts to lift up the night frill around Minhyuk’s bed. “I have to say, I have literally no clue where your spare house keys could be. There’s no possible reason as to why it would be under your bed.”

“I can’t find them and I checked everywhere else! Maybe I got homesick and slept with them one night and they fell. Just check. Use those long arms to my advantage for once,” Minhyuk encourages. “The keys to my mom’s house are on that bunch, and she’s going to call me back in three hours and she’ll drive all the way here to strangle me if I lost it.”

“Maybe it’ll be a good lesson for you,” Hyungwon replies acidly, digging his arm deeper under Minhyuk’s bed, instantly retracting it when his hand brushes against something unfamiliar and slippery under his fingertips. “What the fuck was that?”

Minhyuk puts his head against the carpet, stares horizontally at the darkness under his bed, before pulling out an abandoned chocolate bar. “Oh! I forgot about this, you bought this for me in like February!”

“It’s fucking May, Minhyuk.”

“Chocolate doesn’t expire,” Minhyuk says, placing the bar on his bedside table. “This was a good idea. I think I see one or two socks under here too.”

“Those are my fucking socks,” Hyungwon snaps, pulling out a pair of black ones. “I was looking for these! I had to wear those reindeer patterned socks you got me last year for a meeting with my dad. He noticed. He commented on it. He did not find it funny.”

There’s not a hint of guilt on Minhyuk’s face. “Come on, it’s a talking point if nothing else,” his voice muffled by the bed.

Hyungwon gets to his feet with difficulty. His muscles already ache with the pains of dancing, and he’s had an early morning start every day this week and he truly feels like having to crawl under his roommate’s filthy bed was going above and beyond his duties as a friend.

“I’m going to my room,” Hyungwon announces, leaving Minhyuk on the floor, thinking he probably deserves whatever tongue lashing he gets from his mother.

“Hyungwon, wait, come on, please, you know I can’t lose those. She’s gonna kill me, and then she’ll call your mom, and tell her to kill me as well,” Minhyuk wails.

“Minhyuk, I don’t know where it is, I can’t make keys out of thin air. I’m exhausted.” He sighs, “I really just want to have a shower and take a nap. We have another early start this morning. You heard the choreographer say he wants us at the academy at six.”

“Please, Wonnie, she’s gonna phone me soon asking me for those spare keys,” Minhyuk says. He’s openly whining now, and he scrambles to his feet and suctions himself to Hyungwon like a leech. A beautiful brunette leech with a stunning smile, but a leech nonetheless.

Hyungwon uselessly attempts to move Minhyuk’s arms from his waist but it’s wrapped around too tightly.

“Please keep looking. Two minds are better than one.”

“I don’t know if you even have one, Minhyuk.”

“Well then, more reason for you to help me. It’ll just be one mind then. I’m working with none,” Minhyuk says, placing his chin on Hyungwon’s shoulder. “Come on, I’ll make it worth your while.”

“Oh, really? How do you plan to bribe me this time?” Hyungwon asks, raising an eyebrow, observing Minhyuk in his bedroom mirror. He’s attempting to bury himself in his own oversized shirt. It’s sort of endearing.

He lowers his voice to a purr. “I’ll do the dishes.”

“You need to do that, anyway. About a week ago already.”

“I’ll do the dishes twice in a row. And I’ll do the laundry.” When this elicits no reply from Hyungwon, Minhyuk sighs and adds: “I’ll also wake up a little earlier tomorrow to get you coffee.”

“Oh, really?” Hyungwon says, perking up considerably. “That would be quite enticing.”

“Fine. Okay. Deal. I’ll do the dishes, the laundry, and I’ll get your coffee. Will you help me now?”

“Get off me then,” Hyungwon says, trying to take a step forward and ending up pulling Minhyuk with him, “I can’t help you unless you detach yourself from my person, you leech.”

“You’re so nice to snuggle, you’re like a pretty beanpole,” Minhyuk says, hugging him tighter, less like a leech now and more like a lovable puppy.

Hyungwon sighs. “Minhyuk, what happened to being worried about your imminent death at the hands of your mother?”

This seems to awaken the survival instincts in Minhyuk and he abruptly extricates himself from Hyungwon at the mention of her and drops to his knees, reaching under the bed again. “God, where is it?”

Hyungwon kneels down as well, mourning the loss of his evening.

13^th May

“Enjoy your coffee bribe.”

“What did you get me?”

“Americano, no sugar. That’s always your order, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. Thanks.”

31^st May

The heat crawls in the apartment and stays, it takes residence as an unwanted guest, and the air becomes thick with humidity and tension. Frustration creeps up under the crack in Hyungwon’s doorframe and toxic arguments begin to linger, and he would retract his previous statements to his parents, Minhyuk was a horrible roommate. The apartment decayed into a garbage dump of dust and dirty dishes.

There’s no air conditioning, there’s nothing circulating the old air (and the old arguments) and everything is just festering and fermenting and Hyungwon’s skin won’t stop prickling. That’s the thing about summer days like these, it’s impossible to escape the growing tension and it’s just so difficult to cool down.

He doesn’t want to start a fight – but it may not be a choice.

“Can you just clean up for one day in your fucking life, Minhyuk?” Hyungwon snaps, throwing him a discarded shirt lying on the floor. It catches him where he lays on the couch, feet on the arm rest, reading something on his phone. He’s been rotting in the same position for so long there’s an imprint on the cushions.

“I’ll get to it, okay.”

“You said that yesterday. And the day before. I’m pretty sure the last time I saw you wear that shirt was a week ago. Why didn’t you just keep it in your room?”

“God, just calm down, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk drawls. “It’s a t-shirt on the floor, I didn’t commit war crimes.”

Hyungwon’s nails dig into his palm till they make crescent marks. “Are you just, like, not listening to me?”

 “Drink a glass of water or something, I’ll get to it later,” Minhyuk says, not taking his eyes off the phone screen.

“If it’s not too difficult, could you stop being useless for maybe just one day? If you try hard enough?” Hyungwon says, and even to his own ears, it’s a bit harsh, but he’s gone too far now. His ears ring with hot blood.

Minhyuk puts the phone down, and sits up, staring at Hyungwon. He doesn’t look hurt – but to say he was unaffected would be a lie. “Are you quite done?”

And he wasn’t. Hyungwon realized he wasn’t. He could go into alphabetized detail for every single one of his complaints about Minhyuk, and all it would accomplish was a screaming match, and that would just make the apartment unbearably hotter.

Hyungwon found himself craving a lack of independence, because independence was nice and all until your roommate decided to live like hurricanes barrelled through the living room daily. How nice it would be to have a mother walk in and order everything to be neat and tidied. Like his own mother, she was always so unrelenting in her quest for cleanliness.

And Hyungwon finds himself thinking of the Chae’s homestead. His parents’ house – his old home – had air conditioning. It had a stocked fridge, it had a massive TV, a pool table and most importantly, it didn’t have Minhyuk.

“Minhyuk, I think I need to go home,” Hyungwon says in a much calmer tone. “I think I just need some time to myself.”

Minhyuk shrugs. “For how long?”

“I don’t know. Just a week. Maybe two. I just… I can’t be here anymore.” Hyungwon wipes the sweat condensing on his forehead. 

“Fine,” Minhyuk says, picking up his phone and scrolling.

“Fine?”

“I can’t stop you. Have fun, I guess. See you whenever you decide to come back.”

It’s Hyungwon’s own foolish expectations. That’s the reason he feels bad and there’s a weight in his heart as he packs his suitcase. What did he expect Minhyuk to do? Beg him to stay in their stuffy apartment so they can yell at each other more? He fires off a text to his brother to let him know he’s coming home for a bit, another to Hansol to let him know his plans, and one to the choreographer making up a family emergency. He zips his suitcase close with more force than necessary.

He packs relatively light, because he knows he’ll come back.

He doesn’t pack as light as he should for ‘just a week’ though, because he’s not sure when he’ll want to come back. He’s just so sick of this apartment with it’s heat and it’s dirty dishes and his roommate who appears to have no actual regard for anyone but himself.

There’s a stillness in the apartment now when Hyungwon wheels his suitcase in, and he’s still not entirely sure how he ended up fully prepared to leave just to avoid having to look at him for any longer. He pauses at the front door, hesitant. Minhyuk still hasn’t moved from the couch. The discarded shirt is picked up, though, and it breaks Hyungwon’s resolve.

“Minhyuk…” Hyungwon begins.

“See you,” Minhyuk says, in a tone of finality, not looking up. “Tell your mom I said hi.”

Hyungwon slams the door shut behind him.

15^th June

Hyungwon wanted to go home until he actually arrived. Then he realized despite the financial cost and the personal problems associated with living on his own, he would never willingly want to move back. He missed his family, of course, but it was easy to miss them when he was far away and they were just a distant but loving memory. It proved much more challenging to have to live with them, to have to eat dinner with them and smile at them even when they were incapable of leaving him alone for more than five minutes at a time.

Hyungwon wouldn’t be so dramatic and say it’s like being sent back in jail after living a life on parole, but it’s too close to the comparison for comfort.

Comfort in general was a thing he now lacked. He didn’t have a bed. In all his infinite money-saving glory, when Hyungwon moved, he just arranged his bed to be transported from his family home. He refused to sleep on his old bedroom floor, and perhaps that was for the better, because his room was now used as a glorified shed, with a literal workbench fitted in the vacancy his bed left.

The couch was fine, he reasoned – having his father wake him up every morning with the sounds of the sports channel coming to life wasn’t. Neither was then being forced to have opinions on every single sports team that his father supported.

Family dinners proved the most difficult. Hyewon was relentless in her questioning.

“Did you come home just because you’re mad at him?” Hyewon asked, raising an eyebrow. “That’s a little pathetic.”

“It’s not just that. I needed a break, you don’t know how hectic it’s like there. You don’t know the full story,” Hyungwon replied, prodding at his rice with the chopsticks.

“Well then, tell me. He’s your best friend, Hyungwon, you can’t be such a coward to run away at the first sign of conflict. No one said it’s easy to live together, but you have to at least try. Do you think you’re a perfect person to live with?”

“Does anyone want more rice?” his mother stepped in, dropping a pot on the table with a loud bang. “Let’s not argue. It’s nice having the family together after so long!”

Having his mother mediate his problems with his siblings felt too nostalgic for comfort.

Regrettably so, Hyungwon knew Hyewon was right. He feels at least a little guilty about running away to his mom and dad. He spoke a big game months before, naming himself mature enough to move out, but clearly wasn’t mature enough to handle an argument without packing for the hills.

And above all, he feels bad.

He hasn’t even texted Minhyuk since he left. It’s the longest they’ve gone without speaking to each other since they’ve met, and there’s a Minhyuk-shaped absence in his chest. Quite frankly, he’s not sure what he’s going to say when he comes back. What could he say? He’d have to apologize and the thought of that is horrible.

He does have to go back. That much became evident in his time back home. Initially, he did briefly consider quitting everything and hiding out in his parents’ house for the rest of his life – but Hyungwon had already invested too much of his time and blood to live out his remaining years to the backdrop of his father yelling at tennis scores and helping out at the travel agency.

So, he gives in and asks his father to drop him at the academy (because he’d rather die than have to take him up to his apartment) and his father agrees because Hyungwon gets the feeling his time back  home wasn’t all that welcome on their part as well.

“You’re working hard?” is what his father asks him in the car.

And he can’t answer truthfully, because if he was, he wouldn’t have taken two weeks off to emotionally cool off. “I’m trying to.”

His father nods, focused on the road. They drive in silence and it’s the longest they’ve been alone in a long time.

“You’ll always have a place with us, Hyungwon. But you also need to stop being so weak. That’s not you,” his father says, pulling up outside the academy.

It stings, but it stings more because he’s right.

They say farewell and part, and Hyungwon inhales deeply before walking through the studio door. His eyes scan past the other trainees and fix on Minhyuk whose eyes widen at seeing his entrance, but makes no attempt to talk to him. Practice is brutal, his muscles lame after days of inactivity and everything hurts.

Hyungwon stays a few hours extra to catch up on training but Minhyuk still waits for him at the end of the day and they walk home together like they always do. So he doesn’t entirely hate him.

“How was home?” Minhyuk asks.

“It was okay. I remember it better in my memories,” Hyungwon answers after a pause. “How was … home, I guess?”

Minhyuk’s face breaks into a small smile. “Quiet, without you.”

“I don’t make that much noise to begin with,” Hyungwon defends.

“But you’re there. To not have you there is quite eerie. I’m just glad no serial killers murdered me while I was gone. Imagine how upset you would have been if I’d died while you were moping at your mom’s house. The last interaction you would had with me, your best friend in the whole world, would have been you yelling! That would have been horrible. You’d have been haunted forever.”

Minhyuk’s eyes have that glint that they always do when his imagination runs wild, and Hyungwon hadn’t realized how much he missed it. He doesn’t stop looking at Minhyuk the whole walk home. He hadn’t realized how empty his days were without seeing that smile.

They enter their apartment and it already smells the way it’s supposed to, and the last of Hyungwon’s residual nerves dissipate. And then, he looks around, and his eyes don’t catch on dirty dishes or strewn clothes.

The apartment is spotless.

(Not quite. On further inspection, Hyungwon spots a few books haphazardly stacked, some cutlery left on the table, and an empty mug is on the coffee table. But it’s enough.)

Minhyuk looks proud, puffs his chest out ridiculously like he’s some kind of bird, and gestures to the lounge. “See? I told you I’d do it later.”

“I’m sorry for doubting you,” Hyungwon murmurs, his mouth hanging open. The closet is unlocked, and the vacuum pipe sticks out of it – and Hyungwon has to seriously wonder if Lee Minhyuk had actually used the vacuum for the first time since they bought the thing.

Hyungwon finds his heart filling up, overflowing and he pulls Minhyuk towards him, embracing him before he can stop himself.

“I didn’t know you would be that happy to have a clean floor,” Minhyuk mumbles against his shoulder, but buries himself deeper in the hug.

It wasn’t about the floor and Hyungwon hopes he realizes that. It was about how glad Hyungwon was to be back home, to be back home with Minhyuk. But Hyungwon would never say those words aloud, he isn’t that kind of guy, so he just pulls him tighter against his chest.

Hyungwon wonders why he doesn’t hug Minhyuk more. He’s so…soft against him, and the way he nestles in the space between his arms makes Hyungwon feel as if he was made the perfect height just for him.

And then Hyungwon realizes that it’s a bit strange to randomly hug his best friend, that wasn’t something he did. Any and all affection was initiated on Minhyuk’s part. He disentangles himself from Minhyuk enough to see his face.

“Can’t believe you didn’t talk to me for like two weeks. I missed you,” Minhyuk mutters under his breath. “You were a real dick, though. I need to remind you of that.”

“I was.”

“But I was kind of a dick too,” Minhyuk compromises. “And I missed you anyway. Don’t leave again. Take me with you next time.”

“I don’t have any plans on leaving,” Hyungwon says. “I think I’m happy here.”

“You ‘think’?”

“I know,” Hyungwon corrects, smiling slightly and the smile replicates itself on Minhyuk’s face. It’s like raindrops, the way that his gaze falls to Minhyuk’s lips and halts there. He’s processing about thirty thousand thoughts in a single second.

“It’s not the same here without you,” Minhyuk says, his voice faraway, as if he’s not sure if his words are actually being spoken and heard. “This apartment… it’s ours. It’s always ours, and when you’re not here, it doesn’t feel the same.”

“I missed you too.”

The air crackles with a different kind of tension, the kind of suspended pressure from a moment months ago when there was a hand caressing a cheek.

Hyungwon knows the second he crosses this threshold that he’s been toeing for the past few months, it’s a point of no return. And while consciously he hasn’t even entertained the thought, the undercurrent of truth travels in his mind. What he’s denying himself is for the best because he’s not going to get what he wants. He would be making a mistake, he’d be ruining the most important of his friendship, and it would all be because he was weak and indulgent.

But there’s an careless part of him that, despite knowing that, despite knowing all of that, all he wonders is how Minhyuk’s lips would feel against his own, how they’d open up underneath him, what he’d taste like.

He just doesn’t quite have the courage to bend down, to make that small movement forward, and he knows that Minhyuk would never initiate it, would always wait for him first. Minhyuk would always wait, just like he waited in an empty apartment for Hyungwon to come back.

“It’s late,” Minhyuk says, breaking the gaze.

Nothing happens. Hyungwon tries not to be disappointed.

“You better get your rest. You have so much to catch up on at the academy. Be prepared for some late nights,” Minhyuk says, casually knocking his fist against Hyungwon’s shoulder. “I’ll heat up some leftovers from earlier in the week that we can share.”

Minhyuk reverts back to his usual persona with such speed and precision that Hyungwon wonders if he imagined the entire moment. But he knows he didn’t. His heart rate hasn’t settled yet. If Hyungwon had the courage, he knows he could take the mask off and he talk, and be real. But Hyungwon is fearful, and cautious, and doesn’t want to fly too close to the sun.

“Please do, I’m starving,” Hyungwon says.

So he sits down, and shares the single portion of ramen with Minhyuk, and they eat in silence, but it’s a comfortable silence; it’s the silence of two people who’ve made a home of each other.  

30^th June

A half a year sweeps by without Hyungwon really noticing it. He saw the seasons change, he saw the universities and schools open and close, but it was all just background noise to his own daily routine.

He’s frustrated at his own progress, feels like he’s slowing down with age, having to work harder for less, and he’s still wondering when he’ll get his chance.

His mother phones him asking how he’s doing, if he’s seeing any pretty girls and tells him to call her more often. She doesn’t extend the offer to visit home. Hyungwon can imagine why.

Sparked by his mother, and because he feels like it’s a thing he should do at some point, he goes on a date with Hyerin. They have lunch together. It’s nice and pleasant in a sort of boring way, and he decides he much prefers her as a friend and she feels very much the same.

When Hansol interrogates him about the date, Hyungwon adds in unnecessary, fake details because Hansol likes an interesting story, and Hyungwon’s life lately has been more boring than ever.

Well, objectively it was boring. To Hyungwon, it was the plateaux of his existence. He spent all day at the academy with his best friend and they’d walk to their home together. They’d eat dinner, watch cat videos on YouTube or a drama on TV, and sleep.

It wasn’t quite the wild lifestyle he expected from his early twenties. Minhyuk, less so - the party animal streak in him had been reduced to a tame kitty cat. 

“I hear that Jinwoo wants to go to a club tonight. Should we go?” Hyungwon asks him, more as a formality than anything else. They’re already on the couch, a cup of tea in Hyungwon’s hand and Minhyuk’s feet resting on the coffee table. He’s not in his pyjamas yet, but he doesn’t seem like he’s about to take off the oversized Pikachu T-shirt he’s currently wearing to put on club-appropriate attire.

“Do you want to?” Minhyuk answers, curling deep in the couch.

“Do you?”

Minhyuk laughs a bit, putting his legs down. “This conversation will go in circles.”

“I suppose I just want to know if you want to go out. We used to get out a lot more but lately we’ve just kind of been staying at home. I just want to make sure you don’t feel like you’re being locked up here,” Hyungwon shrugs, his hands fidgeting with the couch cushion, feeling oddly vulnerable.

“I’ll come along with you if you like, but Hyungwon, don’t think that I wish I was out clubbing instead of here. If it’s a choice between Jinwoo’s friends and overpriced drinks, and being at home with you, I’m sad to tell Jinwoo that you and the couch wins every time.” Minhyuk says it so casually, laughing a little at the end. Surely he can’t hear the way Hyungwon’s heart rate increases.

“Yeah. I feel the same,” Hyungwon says, attempting to keep his voice measured.

Minhyuk rests his head on Hyungwon’s shoulder as he switches on the next episode of Reply 1997. “Glad that’s decided.”

There’s a warmth in Hyungwon's heart threatening to spill out of his mouth and run on the lounge carpet. There’s the overwhelming desire to hold Minhyuk even tighter, to pull him closer and run his hands through his bronze locks.

And Hyungwon takes that desire, locks it into the edge of his conscious mind and writes it off as a momentary lapse in judgement that thankfully went unnoticed. Minhyuk continues snuggling into the planes of Hyungwon's arm and the drama continues playing.

He falls asleep after a few minutes, still on his shoulder, and Hyungwon gets lost in the reverie of watching Minhyuk's soft sleep-filled face, and most of the night passes as the two nap on the couch, limbs entangled. At some unknown hour, Minhyuk wakes up, hair dishevelled and gently shakes Hyungwon awake, leading him to his room by the hand, still saying goodnight, even though it’s probably close to morning by now. 

 6^th July

A singularity has no beginning or end, it just exists in its entirety.

Life with Minhyuk is very much like existing in a singularity. How could there be a beginning to their story when they were always entwined in each other’s lives? Rational fact would claim that for a large majority of his life he had no idea who or what Lee Minhyuk was, or how important he would become – but this truth seemed almost unbelievable in the face of his actual feelings. Memories without Minhyuk were like photographs bleached by the sun, so devoid of colour, so unlike the kinds that they created together.

He didn’t choose to become friends with Minhyuk. There was no climactic first meeting, no dramatic orchestra that played when they first made eye contact. He just sort of ended up with him. Then, they became inseparable. Shortly afterwards they moved in together. That’s all there was to it. There was no need for a beginning.

If Hyungwon was fanciful – and he’s not – he would almost think he was destined to meet him. He’s not a man who believes in fate or soulmates but – there’s something different about the way they are with each other, almost melodic in nature like complementary minor and major notes.

It shouldn’t be so easy to fit with someone, it shouldn’t just… happen. There’s supposed to be some kind of build-up, a sustained tension – you shouldn’t just say hello at some dance studio you’re both at and then never really say goodbye.

Because, again, it wasn’t always like this, Hyungwon knows he used to have a life completely ignorant of Minhyuk's existence and he didn’t always need anyone back then – but he did now. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too forward to suggest that Minhyuk feels the same. Or, perhaps. More.

And he halts his thoughts there. Hyungwon isn’t fanciful, he doesn’t think there’s some kind of ‘more’ to them.

(But there could be?)

It’s a thought that Hyungwon never consciously allow himself to dwell on, because thinking leads to hoping – and hoping is quite possibly the most dangerous thing Hyungwon could do. It’s a rule of his, as long as he ignores the existence of his own thoughts and feelings everything would be fine.

Unconsciously, however, Hyungwon cannot stop himself wondering any more than he can stop the moon from rising, and in those daydreams and sleepy nights, he wonders about the way Minhyuk’s hands always holds his tenderly, how he always remembers his coffee order, about the way he looks at him-

And Hyungwon stops himself.

Hyerin nudges Hyungwon, gesturing to the bartender to slide a glass, handing it to him. “You feeling alright? You’ve been staring into space all night.”

Space is accurate. He’s staring at the vacancy in the seat next to him, and is trying to convince himself he doesn’t miss Minhyuk. He’d asked him to come but Minhyuk had politely declined –

“I’m not really Hyerin’s friend anyway. You have to go though, it’s her birthday! Have a good time, I’ll have an early night. Do try not to get too drunk though - I’m not prepared to open the door for you again,” Minhyuk had said, practically shoving him out the door.

It’s ridiculous, it’s been only a few hours since he’d said goodbye, how can he already want to see him again? It’s a Friday night, fair enough, which is ‘their’ day but he’s had Friday nights before without Minhyuk. He shouldn’t be moping around like a dog without a home.

Hyungwon downs the drink Hyerin gives him. 

“What’s got you so contemplative? Missing your better half?” Hyerin says, smirking slightly.

“Ha, maybe,” is all Hyungwon says, focused on the drink in his hand.

Friday nights seem wrong without Minhyuk's presence next to his on their couch. He wonders if Minhyuk missed him too, even a little. Surely he must. It was past ten, according to the clock above the bar, and he’d make his excuses and leave around eleven after bidding Hyerin farewell and many happy returns. He wonders if Minhyuk will still be awake when he’s back.

And Hyungwon rebukes himself because he’s breaking his rule, he’s thinking about the possibilities. He blames it on the three drinks he’s had this far – the alcohol frees the confines of his head but not enough for him to act on it. So, all he does is think.

And he doesn’t have much to think about besides Minhyuk, he’s just the central point of his existence. He wonders if Minhyuk realizes quite the effect he has. Surely, he must have some sort of idea. There are those rare occasions where Hyungwon sees Minhyuk's eyes burn with an emotion he refuses to name and he wonders what he did to cause such a fire, and what would happen if he just would close that distance between them.

But Hyungwon wouldn’t want to break his rule over something as silly as a little glance. Those moments are just flukes, the consequence of living so intimately together –

But the question remains: what would have happened if one sustained stare lasted a little too long and these singular moments stopped being singular? If they were just: moments.

But he supposes that’s already what they are. It’s by Hyungwon's own perception that he breaks them down into easily understandable chunks. It’s just so much simpler to ignore a single day than face that hidden reality that it’s not just a single day — it’s every day that he’s caring more and more for the man whose room is just down the hall to the right. 

He doesn’t need to think about that. He downs another drink, and looks away from the empty stool. He gets up, joins the conversation his friends are having, and tries to push every single thought out of his mind because he won’t break his one rule about thinking and hoping.

He isn’t falling for Lee Minhyuk.

(But he could.)

27^th July

It’s nothing but black outside, far past the stroke of midnight. Hyungwon tries to compose a text asking for advice but realizes the only person he’d want to talk to is the cause of the emotion blooming in his lungs, choking his words with sunflower petals. He just goes to sleep.

16^th August

Jinwoo offers to set him up on a date with a friend of his. She’s apparently very beautiful and a blonde.

“I know you like blondes,” Jinwoo says, nudging his elbow in Hyungwon’s side.

Hyungwon refuses. Jinwoo wishes to know why, and Hyungwon cannot begin to explain the nuances of why he feels emotional fidelity to his wholly platonic roommate, so he settles for: “I’m not in the mood for romance”.

Jinwoo shrugs, and leaves Hyungwon to his loneliness.

It’s not loneliness, is it though? He has someone to go home to. He has someone who makes it home. Hyungwon could never really consider himself lonely.

And as long as he keeps his thoughts in his head, and his mouth shut, nothing ever needs to change, and nothing needs to fall apart. As long as he doesn’t let himself want more. He just has to stick to his rule.

10^th September

It becomes increasingly difficult to be so close - and Hyungwon has taken to having to remind himself daily of the consequences if he succumbs to his silly desires.

As long as it was never physical, it was fine. As long as there was no touching, no feeling, no… kissing, he’d be fine. Against his better judgement, he’s starting to accept that he may have emotions beyond what he’d previously thought of his roommate, and if that was the case, all Hyungwon had to do to avoid disaster was never act on it. Truthfully, it was only for so long he could live in denial about the way his breath hitched when they locked glances. So Hyungwon forms a new rule, a better one, that will ensure a continued friendship and harmonious household.

As long as it was never physical. It didn’t matter that sometimes he and Minhyuk locked glances and Hyungwon wondered if he’d enjoy being burned by that fire he had in his eyes. It didn’t matter that when they were together, Hyungwon felt somewhat more complete. Those things didn’t matter. Nothing mattered besides ensuring their friendship went on as normal.

Hyungwon had self-control, after all, he knew not to play with fire, so he averted his eyes when Minhyuk forgot his towel while taking a shower, and he continuously refused his offers to fall asleep on the couch when they finish watching their shows together. Hyungwon would not succumb to his own weakness, especially in the state he was in.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

But the truth of the matter was that he was weak. Hyungwon is weak, flawed, and horribly, horribly human and he can’t contain himself. He can’t stop himself when he sees Minhyuk struggle, trying to get a tipped-over cereal box from the top of the fridge, his shirt riding up, exposing the smooth expanse of his back. Hyungwon's innocent intention was to get up from his chair, walk over and help him, that’s all he wanted to do, that’s all he planned.

And then he sees the line Minhyuk’s figure makes, and the way his clothes cling so perfectly to his body, and he’s closer now, and now Hyungwon notices how his hair smells like his signature peach shampoo, and he’s wearing that red plaid shirt Hyungwon likes so much and he’s just so beautiful and it shouldn’t be this intoxicating and it shouldn’t be so easy to turn him around, press his body flush against the fridge, observe the look of shock in his widening eyes and press his lips to his anyway.

There’s a second, an hour-long second where Minhyuk doesn’t respond, his lips still and unresponsive, and Hyungwon pulls apart, wondering if he had misread everything. He opens his mouth to apologize, to beg for forgiveness, to plead insanity, but then Minhyuk’s eyes blaze, his hands finding their way into Hyungwon’s hair, and he pulls him back to his mouth, licking into his lips and then into his mouth like he’s starving.

All Hyungwon can think is that it shouldn’t feel this good to kiss him. It shouldn’t – but it does, it unquestionably does and Hyungwon has Minhyuk nearly fastened to the fridge, and he’s glad for the supportive surface, because he’s not sure how much longer he can last on his unsteady legs. He breaks apart for a second to readjust his position and Minhyuk nearly whines, pulling him back into an open-mouthed kiss.

Hyungwon’s hands caress Minhyuk’s neck, the hairs at the back of his nape sweeping against his fingertips. Minhyuk whimpers something and it’s encouraging Hyungwon further, kissing deeper, deeper, till there’s no more. His body is burning hot against Hyungwon's and still he tries to be closer, every gap of air between their forms is just wasted space.

Minhyuk tastes sweet. There’s nothing more to be said about it. He tastes like a summer’s day, like honey, like warmth and - sweetness, and brightness and it’s everything Hyungwon loves about him, and when that thought hits him, he pulls away like he’s on fire – and he feels like it as well.

Minhyuk remains against the fridge, catching his breath, staring at Hyungwon in complete astonishment. He opens his puffed up lips to say something, but only makes a sort of distant, indistinct sound that doesn’t seem like words.

“I…” Hyungwon attempts.

He gives up.

“I should get to bed,” is what he finally says. It’s barely past eight, and they both realize it. In an attempt to cover his tracks, Hyungwon adds: “I’m meeting Hansol tomorrow morning. Early start. Better get a good night’s rest.” And it’s actually true. It’s an excuse, obviously, but it has a basis in fact. He’s never been happier to have morning plans.

He can still taste him on his lips.

Minhyuk nods, speaking slowly. “Yeah. You mentioned that yesterday. Okay. Sleep well. I’ll have my dinner. Have a good time.” He takes the cereal box from the fridge off the fridge – and, oh, all he had to do was stand on his toes. He clutches the box to his chest as he stares at Hyungwon, his cheeks still pink, lips still red. Still a shockingly beautiful shade of red, and Hyungwon stops himself from wanting more, from finding out if his lips could turn more crimson than they already are. If Minhyuk had wanted to say something more, he doesn’t.

“Yeah.”

He hasn’t even eaten dinner, but Hyungwon grabs his phone off the counter and walks into his room, not looking back, not sure he’s even able to. 

11^th September

Hansol is sipping an Americano when Hyungwon sees him. He waves, a soft smile on his face. “I ordered you a coffee. Two sugars, right?”

None, actually. But Hyungwon appreciates the gesture more than he appreciates the drink, and he sips it, careful to hide his revulsion at the explosion of sweetness on his tongue.

“How was the wedding?” Hyungwon asked, vaguely remembering their previous conversation involving Hansol’s sister.

“Oh, it was lovely!” Hansol launches into an explanation of the happy couple and the wedding hall and the food and the outfits, and Hyungwon really tries to listen, but Hansol’s voice was always too soft for his own good, and he finds himself lost in his own sea of thoughts.

He barely notices when Hansol clicks his fingers in front of Hyungwon’s face. “Hello? Hyungwon? Are you there?”

Hyungwon bows his head in apology, returning to reality. “Sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Something about a wedding?”

“Nice and vague answer there,” Hansol replies, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “What’s wrong Hyungwon? You’re normally a lot more… receptive.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to bide time, but Hansol’s inquisitive gaze does not diminish.

“What do you do when you’ve kissed someone you’re not supposed to?” Hyungwon finally says, eyes fixed on the green straw protruding from his cup.

Hansol’s shock is evident from the way his eyebrows shoot up, but he thankfully, at least attempts to keep his voice stable. “I guess that would depend on why you weren’t supposed to kiss them.”

When no further explanation comes from Hyungwon, Hansol presses on: “If it’s your brother’s fiancé, yeah, you’re not supposed to kiss them because like, a thousand reasons. If it’s because they’re dating someone else, yeah, don’t do that either. But I don’t know your situation, Hyungwon and I could spend all afternoon giving different answers based on increasingly implausible scenarios. So tell me: why can’t you kiss them?”

It takes Hyungwon too long to think of a reason and he has a suspicion Hansol picks up on the delay.

“I can’t,” Hyungwon says, breathing deeply, “because… I shouldn’t. It’ll be difficult, in a lot of ways. For both of us. It will make life more difficult.”

“A difficult life isn’t necessarily the worst thing to happen to someone,” Hansol says, tilting the cup to his mouth thoughtfully.

“My life is complicated enough as is. I work hard, Hansol. So do you. We don’t have the amount of minutes a given day to waste them thinking about… relationships,” Hyungwon’s voice catches on the last word.

“Hyungwon, you’re training, not inhuman. You’ll have the rest of your life to be kept on a leash. Why would you want to start now?”

Hyungwon sort of wishes than Hansol was more pessimistic. He didn’t want actual advice - what he wanted as he realized now was some kind of authority figure to forbid him, to make him feel bad, to ask for reparation. And Hansol was just too understanding for that.

“Hyungwon, if you know you weren’t supposed to, then why did you kiss them?”

He’s unable to look him in the eye. “Because I wanted to. I really, really wanted to,” Hyungwon says softly. “I couldn’t stop myself.”

There’s a beat of silence. He lifts his head up and Hansol’s gaze is piercingly curious.

“Is there a particular reason why you can’t tell me the full story?” Hansol asks, prying, but in the nicest way possible. It’s the doe-like eyes, Hyungwon thinks, it makes everything he says seem innocent.

“Yes.”

“Mind telling me the reason?”

And Hyungwon puts his coffee cup down, feeling thoroughly sick to his stomach. “It wasn’t supposed to happen.”

“It did, though. No point pretending it didn’t. It’ll come up eventually.”

“Not if I can help it.”

“Hyungwon…” Hansol says, warningly.

He crosses his arms, and gives his head an imperceptible shake. “Just leave it be, Hansol. I’ll sort it out.”

Hansol drops the topic after that, and talks about the wedding again, and Hyungwon wonders to himself how long he was planning on pretending it didn’t happen. He made such a good point. Did he really have to kiss Minhyuk?

Well, Hyungwon supposed, he did really really want to.

20^th September

Things change in the way that they remain exactly the same. It’s almost strange, Hyungwon sort of expected the entire world to change – but it didn’t. It was like revolving around a circle, and in the process of turning in its entirety, Hyungwon ended up back to where he was originally: filled with the same particular brand of inexplicable feelings with no direction that he’s always had, that he wonders if he’ll always have. The planets and moons keep revolving around the sun, and Hyungwon continues in his perpetual orbit alongside Minhyuk.

The fireplace is on, and it's colder than usual for this early in the year, and a quiet chill fills the air. It’s been more than a week and they still don’t talk about what happened, and as days go by without mentioning it, the moment fades into a memory with knifelike edges. In the amber glow of the flames, it captures Minhyuk's cheekbones in a most incredible illumination. Hyungwon stares, perhaps more openly than he should. He can consciously ignore as much as he wants but his fingertips still prickle with the phantom touch of Minhyuk's jawline.

But despite everything else, it’s a Friday night, and they have a set plan for Friday nights that nothing short of a natural disaster would disrupt and they’re in the same position on the couch as they always are, Hyungwon against the armrest, Minhyuk with a cushion under his neck, and the television switched on. Minhyuk picked the drama as usual, but they're conspicuously spaced apart, not a breadth of physical contact between them.

So it’s a little different – but it’s also just so much like it always is. He watches the drama, eyes glued to the screen, and roots for the plucky heroine and Hyungwon finds himself letting his guard down, lets himself just enjoy the usual Friday night plans.

And then, the power cuts out.

The screen switches off with a soft click, and they’re bathed in near complete darkness, save for the dying fire. Hyungwon stares at Minhyuk’s unilluminated figure, uncomprehendingly.

“Did you pay the rent on time?”

“No, I spent it all on a party with wine and hookers and you weren’t invited,” Minhyuk says. “Of course I fucking paid the rent, you know I did, that’s the one thing I never forget to do.” He throws his hands up in the air and jumps off the couch. “God, let me check outside the hall, I hope this isn’t going to last long, I was so into that episode.”

While Minhyuk opens the door and peeks down the hallway, Hyungwon picks up his phone. It’s a few minutes to eight, and he’s already comfortable in his spot on the couch, toes curling in the blanket he brought.

“Yup, it’s out for everyone,” Minhyuk says. “I wonder what happened. Surely the building management is supposed to inform us if there’s problems?”

Minhyuk is right. And, oh, Hyungwon realizes that’s what he meant to tell him. The letter got shoved in their door over a week ago and Hyungwon read it and immediately recycled it, reminding himself to inform Minhyuk. But he never really got that far, did he, because he ended up manhandling Minhyuk against a fridge and making out with him for ten minutes.

“Uh,” Hyungwon begins. “That’s on me.”

“What exactly do you mean?”

“Building management sent a letter saying they needed to do maintenance. I totally forgot, I’m so sorry,” Hyungwon smiles sheepishly, raising his hands in defeat.

Minhyuk flops to the couch so forcefully he displaces the cushions. “Fucks sake Hyungwon, we had plans. How am I supposed to know what happens to Nam Joohyuk? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I forgot!”

Minhyuk is spread out on the couch like he’s been mortally wounded, his feet dangerously close to Hyungwon. “If I had known, I could have charged my laptop. We could have gone out. We could have done anything.”

“Let’s just go sleep, honestly,” Hyungwon suggests. He wouldn’t mind that, he supposes, but damn, it’ll be a cold night.

“I can’t sleep this early, I’ll wake up at fucking 3am.” Minhyuk's arms are crossed and he’s so genuinely upset, it’s almost adorable. Hyungwon then banishes the thought off the side of a cliff.

“We could still go out if you really wanted to,” Hyungwon suggests.

“I’m in my goddamn pyjamas, Hyungwon. Furthermore, are you really prepared to walk down nine flights of stairs?” Minhyuk says. “Remember when the elevator was busted in March and you literally slept in the lobby because you wouldn’t walk up the stairs? I had to bring you cornflakes down in a fucking bowl. The security guard thought you were homeless.”

“It’s nine flights, Minhyuk,” is all Hyungwon can defend himself with. Minhyuk just sighs, sinking deeper in the couch.

The whole building is somehow much quieter with the loss of electricity, and the only sound in the room is the crackling of the fire. Hyungwon watches it, transfixed, and it’s beautiful the way the flames lick up and down the logs. He almost forgets there’s another person in the room.

Minhyuk's presence is brought to his attention when he just casually remarks: "So, are we ever going to talk about it?"

Panic sparks under his skin but Hyungwon’s careful in his response.

"Talk about what?" Hyungwon replies, because old habits die hard, and if stalling was his final defense tactic left, he'd hide behind it until the final bullet fires.

"When you kissed me," Minhyuk says, and Hyungwon swears he sees the softest hint of pink enter his cheeks. Still, his words are raw, unembellished.

Hyungwon purses his lips. "Yes. We should talk about that." It’s the response he’s supposed to say, but he doesn’t really mean it, he doesn’t want to talk about it, he just wants to carry on. Indefinitely.

No further conversation comes from either of them. They sit in silence, focusing on the fire, despite fire not necessarily being particularly interesting. Minhyuk is sitting up now, his hands crossed. They both appear to be waiting for the other to break the quiet that surrounds them – but Minhyuk was always the impatient one.

"Did you mean to?" Minhyuk finally says, after a while. His words resound in the room. “Did you want to?”

"Yes.”

The answer left his mouth before he could think it over. There’s a pause. Hyungwon considers elaborating, considers denying, he considers so much in that singular moment – and just decides to keeps quiet.

It’s a halted conversation, a push back and a push forth, like the slowest game of chess. It’s some time before Minhyuk replies.

"You can say no," Minhyuk says softly, and then he turns to Hyungwon, and his eyes are wide and a vivid streak of fear is contained in them. "I won't be mad or anything. If it was a mistake or you regret it, that's okay. Just tell me, then.”

Hyungwon exhales deeply and attempts to untangle his thoughts. It was not a mistake. Hyungwon had full intention to do what he did – and he wasn’t exactly sure he regretted it either. It would have been more accurate to say he wished he regretted it, then he’d be able to ask for forgiveness.

When all he really wants to ask is for Minhyuk to stop talking and start kissing him again.

“I don't want to have the wrong idea about us… this… everything.” Minhyuk says. “If you need to talk, tell me. If you need space, tell me. I’d rather you be honest with me than try and spare my feelings. Just… Let me in your head."

Hyungwon's head is currently vaulted behind reinforced steel and it would be easier to break out of prison than even attempt to uncover what Hyungwon is thinking. How silly of Minhyuk to think it would be as simple as asking him what he was thinking, it’s like he barely knows him at all.

“I am being honest,” Hyungwon says.

Minhyuk lets out a sound of frustration. “Hyungwon, what do you want?”

And Hyungwon's not sure how to answer that question, because the question of what he wants is wrapped in a thousand other details, and buried underneath a thousand other problems. It’s not as simple as Minhyuk's making it out to be, and Hyungwon needs to communicate that to him, he knows he has to. He needs to explain to Minhyuk that whatever the thing that’s clawing at his heart is just a foolish passing feeling and that it would be insane to ruin their friendship over it.

But all he really wants to do right now is look at Minhyuk, all amber glowed and pink cheeked. He's beautiful, unfairly so, and Hyungwon has that rare privilege of knowing exactly what he feels like pressed up against his body, and he can’t erase a memory already burned and embalmed into his brain.

“Hyungwon?” Minhyuk repeats, words disintegrating into the ether as soon as they emerged.

The look in his eyes is heartbreaking. There’s a glow of innocence that surrounds him and it reminds Hyungwon of someone who’s in front of a speeding car, too late to walk away and all they can do is wait for the pain to hit. It's just… fearful.

And all Hyungwon desires is take that look away from him.

“Hyungwon, don’t feel obliged to spare my feelings or anything. If it was a mistake, just tell me. Just don’t leave me confused.” He sighs heavily, and his shirt falls lower, exposing his sharp collarbones.

Truthfully, what Hyungwon wants is to know what he’s supposed to do – and he’d like someone to tell him with specific directions. But no one does and Minhyuk’s gaze is downcast, and he seems to be retreating into himself.

The air thrums with tension and Hyungwon becomes hyper aware of how close Minhyuk is to him. There’s barely an inch of space between them. He wondered when they moved so closely together. 

It’s not a rational course of action which Hyungwon follows, but he blames it on Minhyuk for indulging in his desires. How dare he be so courteous and ask what he wants. It’s just so dark in their apartment, it’s just so cold, and he’s just so perfect and the sustained eye contact between them becomes too intimate too fast.

He’s cautious in the way he nears towards Minhyuk, pulling him up towards him. In the moment between their lips connecting, Minhyuk is looking at him with such unabashed affection, that when they kiss, Hyungwon’s eyes flutter close because he’s cowardly enough to wish that his actions had no consequences that he could see. He doesn’t want to see the way his eyes light up, the guilt and anxiety he feels inside does not need that particular ammunition against him. Minhyuk, and by extension his mouth, is so warm and inviting, and in an instant he overtakes Hyungwon, pinning his back against the couch, hovering above him, his eyes dark.

"What exactly does this mean, Hyungwon? You never gave me an answer to that," Minhyuk whispers.

Hyungwon doesn't reply, and figures Minhyuk should be used to it by now. He interlocks their hands together and pulls him closer, reuniting their lips. Hyungwon doesn’t stop to breathe after that, part of it is the fear Minhyuk will persist in questioning, but part of it is that he’s just becoming increasingly intoxicated on everything that Lee Minhyuk is.

The darkness heightens every sense and he can hear Minhyuk's heartbeat when he trails kisses down the expanse of his neck. He inhales just about every part of the man on top of him whose knuckles are brushing against his cheekbones, and whose legs are twining together with his own. They kiss, and they kiss, and they kiss – the fire dies, a dog barks down the apartment corridor, outside a car alarm goes off, but all Hyungwon hears is the sounds of Minhyuk’s lips against his own.

21^st September
Lights switch on flooding the room and Hyungwon forcibly disentangles himself from Minhyuk, sitting bolt upright, his legs shaky, his body hotter than the sun. His eyes reduce to slits as they struggle to adjust to the sudden electricity.

“Fuck,” he groans trying to find his phone and attempt to find some kind of grounding in reality after hours in a liminal space of touching in the dark. His jaw hurts.

His phone lies discarded on the floor and claims that it’s past midnight, and there must be some kind of system error, it can’t have been that long, it shouldn’t be that long.

“It’s midnight already, we have to…” he struggles to say as Minhyuk falls back against the couch, blinking rapidly.

“Of course, of course,” Minhyuk replies, unconsciously licking his lips. “Yeah. It’s… so late.”

 Hyungwon doesn’t even look at him while he tries to catch his breath and forget the phantom caresses that still climb up his skin. He makes it to his room, exhaling heavily.

But the thing about everything staying the same is that everything stays the same. And Hyungwon shouldn’t be surprised when he sees Minhyuk linger in the doorway, and it's to say goodnight, like it always is. He leans against the doorframe, a hand running through dark hair.

“Sleep well,” he finally says. He hesitates, looking up at Hyungwon. A fire burns.

And Hyungwon reaches out and finds himself pulling Minhyuk into his arms, and he fits perfectly. He carefully controls his steps until they fall back on his bed because as he realizes now he’s so, so hopelessly flawed and he can’t stop his indulgences any more than he can stop the sun from rising. And Minhyuk is just so sweet, everything about him is so sweet and he kisses Hyungwon like he’s honey and holds him like he’s something precious.

 And all they do is kiss. That’s it but, also, all they do is kiss, is consume each other, is swallow each other whole. Mouths close to lips that slide down Hyungwon's neck, and they fall asleep, still entangled, and the kissing doesn't really stop. It pauses.

19^th October
Later, Hyungwon struggles to define it. They’re roommates. They're friends. Of course, they’re still friends, they train together, they walk everywhere together, they live together. Nothing would change that.

But friends also don't languidly make out for hours, mapping out each detail of the other's faces, gripping their nails in each other's hair, and friends don't whisper each other's name in a voice so tender that it can barely be heard.

It’ll be fine.
Because it’s just kissing.

Hyungwon is in the middle of a long shower where he attempts to rationalize everything to himself. And that’s his defense, that’s the cause he’s sticking to, that’s what he’s going to use to convince himself he knows what he’s doing. Because it’s just kissing. Everyone kisses. Even kids do it. It’s nothing special.

Is there something special about the way Minhyuk kisses him? Yes. Of course it’s special, it’s Minhyuk. But that’s alright, because it’s just kissing, it’s just something that happens every now and again. Like when they’re bored, or come home from practice early, or before they go sleep or when they wake up.

He just has to make sure it never goes any further than that.   

October 30^th

“So, what are your birthday plans, Minhyuk?” Jinwoo asks, wiping the sweat off his brow with a towel before tossing it to Minhyuk. The towel is already soaked but he grabs it anyway.

“Haven’t decided yet,” Minhyuk says. “Suppose we could go out the Friday night if you guys really want to.”

“Oh, we really do,” Jinwoo says, nodding solemnly. “We never go out anymore.”

“It’s because all we do is practice.”

“So? I’m dying for a good night out. My body needs alcohol in it. Come on, Hyungwon agrees with me, don’t you?”

Hyungwon who had been attempting to regain the feeling in his legs, looks up from where he’s sprawled out on the floor. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to go out. It’s been a while.”

“Though,” Jinwoo says, his eyes sparkly, “Why don’t we just… come over to your place? We haven’t had a party there yet, and you’ve been there for like a year, haven’t you? That’s just a missed opportunity.”

Minhyuk raises an eyebrow. “Nice of you to invite yourself to my house.”

“Ah, but it’s Won’s too, isn’t it? And he’s up for it as he has already said.” Jinwoo nudged Hyungwon, winking. “Come on. It’ll be a good time. Me and Hyungwon will sort out everything.”

He sneaks a looks at Minhyuk, and felt a pit coil in his stomach. It became abundantly clear he didn’t want a house party, and Hyungwon struggles to his feet, attempting to persuade Jinwoo otherwise.

But in the time it takes to get his knees to co-operate, he’s already gone, telling the others about the plans for next week, and Minhyuk sits on the bench with pursed lips, not exactly jumping for joy.

“I can try and shut it down, if you like,” Hyungwon says, taking the towel from Minhyuk and wiping his neck. “I can just spin a lie and say that our apartment was infested by cockroaches. Though, I’m reasonably sure if you keep putting off doing the dishes that will actually happen.”

Minhyuk leans his head against the wall. “It’s no big deal, honestly. It’ll be fun, I’m sure, but the idea of having to prepare for company, having to clean up our shit all around the house and buy snacks and stuff? While I’ve got an assessment next week as well? I’m just not really looking forward to it at this moment.” He stretches his arms out. “I’m sure I’ll enjoy it when it actually happens.”

“I’ll throw you a good party,” Hyungwon promises, despite not having thrown a single party in his life. It shouldn’t be too hard, he figures, he’s watched enough teen movies to know the bare minimum requirements: alcohol, pizza, good music, locked bedroom doors.

Minhyuk looks up and smiles. “I’ll hold you to that.”

3^rd November

Hyerin is leaning in so close to Hyungwon that he can smell the acrid alcohol on her breath. She’s been spending at least twenty minutes telling Hyungwon about her unprompted opinion on Twilight. This conversation was interspersed only with pouring herself more vodka tonics, occasionally offering a glass to Hyungwon who’d only accept once every three times.

“Your place is really nice,” Hyerin says, refilling her glass. “It’s cute. It’s just the two of you, then?”

“Yup,” Hyungwon answers. “I have the room on the left, Minhyuk has the room on the right, and smack bang in the middle is a huge closet that we threw all the shit that was scattered around the lounge into.”

The pulse of dance music runs across the floor. There’s a distinct noise of chatter - not overly loud, but rather nice - a gentle hum contrasting to the basslines from the speakers. Hyungwon’s drunk enough to have a decent buzz going on, not enough to do embarrassing things like throw up in a taxi - drunk enough to be invested in Hyerin’s rant.

He sees the quirk in Hyerin’s brow as she gazes at the closet and shakes his finger warningly. “Don’t even try. If you open that thing, you’ll literally get crushed by a vacuum cleaner.”

“Fine,” Hyerin sighs. She hops over the island counter and peeks down the hall. “You know, I’m pretty sure you could fit a third roommate in here if you really wanted to.”

“Is someone hinting for a place to live?” Hyungwon laughs, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh no,” Hyerin replies. “I’m happy with my tiny basement apartment. It’s just a friendly suggestion. Even if you manage the rent fine by yourself, the extra income would never be unwelcome.”

“We don’t particularly want anyone else to be honest,” Hyungwon says. “Minhyuk and I are happy with just the two of us. It’s nice.”

“It’s kind of cute, honestly, moving in with your best friend.” She pauses, seems to lose her train of thought, and then picks it up again. “Right, yes, I wanted to ask something I’ve always wondered. I’ve heard that once you live with someone, things can get a little tense. Arguments, bickering about rent and all that. Do you guys get along alright? Has moving in together affected your friendship?”

It would mean nothing to Hyerin, but Hyungwon’s eyes flash to the closet. She can’t have known of course, but it wasn’t even 24 hours ago that Hyungwon had managed to squeeze the last of the lounge’s clutter into it, locking the door. Minhyuk looked at him with those curious eyes of his, a soft smirk on his lips and hopeless, hopeless Hyungwon pressed Minhyuk against the door and licked lines up and down his neck, stopping only when he heard something fall inside the closet.

“Yeah, we do,” Hyungwon finally says. “The tension is no joke, though. Everything’s a lot more personal when you live together.”

“Intimate,” Hyerin agrees, and he unconsciously shivers.

“Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

He’s spared from further questioning by Hansol exiting the bathroom, wiping his hands on his jeans, smelling of discount air freshener.

That’s the good thing about a party like this Hyungwon realizes: when you’re friends with everyone in attendance, it’s easy to evade awkward inquiries about the nature of your relationship with your roommate.

“Hyungwon!” he exclaims, clapping him on the back. “This is a good party! Man, I’m so glad you hosted this.”

It is a nice party, even Hyungwon would be arrogant enough to admit that much. Everyone’s laughing and smiling, the atmosphere is light and perhaps Jinwoo was right. They needed this reprieve from the grind of training till exhaustion that repeats till death.

Hansol leans down next to him, picking up a half-empty beer can from the floor, shakes it and then takes a sip. Hyerin spots someone waving to her and disappears and Hyungwon feels oddly relieved to be free of her drunken opinions.

“Well, I can’t take all the credit. This was mostly Jinwoo’s doing,” Hyungwon says. “Only thing I did was prepare the apartment and ask him to not bring tequila.”

Hansol lays a hand on Hyungwon’s shoulder and looks at him earnestly. “Hyungwon, you truly are a beautiful fool if you think there isn’t a bottle of tequila in Jinwoo’s hand right now.”

He sighs loudly. “I don’t want to clean up vomit off the floor, Hansol.”

“Well you can’t make Minhyuk do it. That would be torturous,” he says. “It’s his birthday!” Hansol pauses. “Where is the birthday boy? I feel like I haven’t seen him in ages.”

“Oh, that’s a good question,” Hyungwon sees, standing on his tiptoes, peering over the heads. “I think he might be in his room, I’ll go check.”

“I’ll come with,” Hansol replies brightly and Hyungwon shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. You enjoy the party. I’ll sort it out.” Hyungwon says, waving his hand.

“Are you sure?”

“Of course, of course.”

Hansol raises an eyebrow at his obvious dismissal, but Hyungwon leaves Hansol, taking a quick detour to his own room to slip his birthday present in his pocket before knocking on Minhyuk’s door and finding it locked.

“Minhyuk? It’s me.”

The door unlocks.

They don’t often dress up, so the times that they do seems that extra bit special and tonight is no exception. Minhyuk had spent an hour picking his tight-fitting clothes, has his hair blown up, and the faintest of gloss on his lips. It’s highly tempting, and Hyungwon swallows when he sees him open the door. Hyungwon enters his room, closing the door behind him, locking it.

“Are you okay?” Hyungwon asks. “Enjoying the party?”

Minhyuk runs a hand through his hair and sits back on his bed. “I’m fine. It’s a good time, really, but I don’t know. It feels like I’m partied out. It’s 2am. I’m usually asleep by now. My evaluation is in fourteen hours, how am I supposed to relax?”

“I can tell you’re getting old if you want to sleep this early,” Hyungwon remarks, sitting next to Minhyuk. The bed shifts under the change in weight. “Want me to kick everyone out?”

“I’d pay to watch you try but no, no reason to ruin a good time just because I’m being silly.” Minhyuk grins. “I’m glad we had this party, though. It was nice seeing all our friends in one space. You didn’t disappoint, even though I was absolutely certain you would.”

“Shut up, Minhyuk.”

“You can’t talk to me like that on my birthday,” he gasps in mock offense.

Hyungwon sighs, and flops down onto the bed, the soft mattress soothing his aching muscles.
“Dancing is horrible.”

“Agreed,” Minhyuk replies, lying down next to him. “So, are you just here to check I’m alive?”

“Mostly that. The others were worried.”        

“And here I was thinking I made a discreet escape,” Minhyuk says. His face looks so soft from this angle, illuminated only by his nightlight. Hyungwon feels an urge to trace it with his fingertips and that feels far too intimate and he blinks rapidly.

“I’ve got your present with me, actually,” Hyungwon says, attempting to distract them both from the lingering tension in the air.

“Why, Hyungwon, I distinctly remember that when you asked me what I wanted, I said  I wanted a good night’s sleep, and you’ve given me the opposite of that by allowing SHINee songs to be played at loud volumes in my apartment at 2am,” Minhyuk says, turning to to face Hyungwon.

“I do recall that, and I felt so bad about the whole thing, I immediately had to arrange for something else,” Hyungwon replies, and laughs at his own words. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a wrapped box.

The giftwrap has the intended effect and Minhyuk squeals in delight, tearing the paper off, and opening the box. He stares at the contents uncomprehendingly, and sits up and Hyungwon replicates the motion.

“What is this?” Minhyuk says, removing the ring inside. It’s thin, silver, with an encircled onyx midpiece.

“I remember you lost your favourite ring in the move,” Hyungwon says, suddenly deeply regretting his choice of present. He should have just got a gift card. “You haven’t really worn any others since. I tried my best to find the closest match. I hope it’s okay? The midpiece might be thicker than the original, but I looked everywhere and I was only going off my own memory-”

Minhyuk’s lips are on Hyungwon stealing the words from him, one hand cupping his cheek, the other carefully holding the box stable. The kiss is brief, light, and as always – sweet.

“Won… thank you. Wow… I… I’m a little stunned, honestly,” Minhyuk says, running his finger around the rim of the ring. “I never expected to see this again. I love this ring, but I can’t believe you even remember it.”

Hyungwon shrugs. “Of course I did.”

“I wore it the day I met you.” The room grows warmer. “I never expected something like… like this, really.”

“You gave me an apartment for my birthday, Minhyuk. Did you really think I’d get you nothing in return?” Hyungwon says, quietly.

Minhyuk brings his eyes back to Hyungwon’s. He realizes they’ve very rarely been alone in Minhyuk's bedroom, and Hyungwon shouldn’t be surprised that Minhyuk's room is so quintessentially him, but it’s endearing. There’s an open manga on his bedside table and a half-eaten mango fruit roll. His favourite plaid sweater lies on the floor and his pillow smells of his peach shampoo. It’s just unapologetically Minhyuk.

When they moved in Hyungwon remembered the agreement. Minhyuk got the bigger room, Hyungwon got the better view. He doesn’t really care about the blocky houses anymore, he barely looks out of the window. He might actually prefer it here - but that might just be because of the company.

Minhyuk hesitantly raises a hand as if to caress Hyungwon's cheek, but halts himself. He steadies his voice. “Won, are we…?” His voice loses traction as he breaks off, shaking his head. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter. Not right now.”

Hyungwon has a sinking suspicion on what Minhyuk was about to ask him - and it’s a conversation he’d been dreading, but the door handle turns, sparing Hyungwon for another a day.

“Hyungwon? Minhyuk? Are you in there?” It’s Seungyoon, one of Jinwoo’s friend, his voice raspy. “It’s locked.”

“I think they’re asleep?” Hansol replies, in what he must have thought was a whisper, but was just a hoarse shout.

“Did they just give up halfway through their own party?”

“I guess.”

“Oh well.”

Hyungwon pursues his lips, lowering his voice to a whisper. “Should we go…?”

“I mean, if you want to, we can go back out,” Minhyuk says. He leans back further on his bed, stretching his arms out against the duvet. “But we don’t have to. We could just sleep.”

“You mean here?” Hyungwon clarifies.

“Why not?”

He has no objection.

Hyungwon isn’t even that tired, but sleep means the promise of a goodnight kiss, and sleeping next to Minhyuk is a rare pleasure he experienced too few times and that’s motivation enough to crawl under the duvet, caress Minhyuk’s face in his hands, and let their lips meet softly, opening up underneath his.

“Happy birthday, Minhyuk.”

Hyungwon's eyes are blurry as sleep absorbs him but as Minhyuk buries himself closer in the cavity of Hyungwon's form, their hands interlock and he feels the cool touch of a silver ring on his index finger.    

18^th November

Hansol delicately wipes his mouth with the corner of a napkin. It blows in the breeze and Hansol reaches out to catch it before it flies away. “That place was amazing. Where did you even hear of it? We’ve never eaten Thai together before.”

“Minhyuk recommended it to me ages ago, and we went here once. It’s such a gem, honestly,” Hyungwon replies, sipping on his soda. “I’ve been meaning to come back.”

At the mention of Minhyuk, Hansol’s walking pace halts briefly.

“Funny coincidence that you mention him, I was just about to ask,” Hansol says. “Did he have a good birthday?”

“Mmm,” Hyungwon considers for a moment. “Yes. He enjoyed the party, mostly, but he was really tired. He had his assessment the next day, you know, so he was understandably stressed. He did well, though. Proud of him. And he had a fun party, despite everything.”

It’s a cool evening, and the wind is tinting his ears pink, but it’s kind of nice to wrap his favourite scarf around his neck when he goes out. Anything’s better than the crushing heat of the past summer.

“Glad he had a good time,” Hansol smiles. “I did as well. Did you?”

Hyungwon had the very slight inclination that he was being interrogated. “Yeah. It was nice. Enjoyed myself. Had some good, cheap alcohol and hung out with my friends. Met my expectations for the night.”

“Did you do anything else?” Hansol questions, shoving his hands into his pockets. And Hansol was someone who liked to know details, but never usually openly pried for information.

“Are you building up to something or are you just very concerned in my party planning capabilities?” Hyungwon says.

A frown crosses Hansol’s face. “Okay, Hyungwon, I’m just gonna come outright and say it. There’s no point dancing around it. What’s the extent of yours and Minhyuk’s relationship?”

Hyungwon freezes mentally. Physically? He continues walking, continues drinking his soda, and pretends like it’s a pleasant conversation between friends. Which is what it is, he forcibly reminds himself. His body is entirely divorced from his mind when he speaks.

“He’s my roommate.”

Hansol exhales. “Hyungwon, I’m not going to tell anyone, or judge, or anything like that. I’m just genuinely curious what exactly is going on between you two.”

A part of Hyungwon wants to snap at him to mind his own goddamn business. But the more rational part knows that Hansol doesn’t mean any harm. The even more rational part knows that getting defensive will just increase Hansol’s own suspicions.

Even now, Hansol’s gaze is undeniably inquisitive - but gentle. It’s the doe eyes, Hyungwon reasons.

“He’s my best friend, Hansol. No offense to you, but he’s number one,” Hyungwon finally says. “That’s all. We’re just friends who care very much about each other.”

“I know that much, Hyungwon, I think everybody in a hundred kilometre radius knows that. But, Hyungwon, I’m not blind, you know?” Hansol says. “The party last week was the first time in a while I’ve seen the both of you together, and it’s not like how normal friends behave.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” He shivers unconsciously.

Hansol takes a deep breath. “It’s hard to put it in words. But I’ve seen you. You move like you’re in synchronization, you effortlessly revolve around each other. And like? He had his hand on your waist for about an hour. How do you not notice that? But, all of that aside, forgetting all of that, what really struck me was the way you look at him.”

“I look at him like I look at anyone,” Hyungwon rationalizes, attempting to deflate the situation.

“You don’t though,” Hansol says, and he’s got a weak smile. “Hyungwon… the way you look at him. It’s like he’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen. Your face softens and your eyes glow, and it’s just so much affection in a single gaze.”

They turn left at the stop street, bound for Hyungwon's apartment, and all Hyungwon hopes is that the ten minute walk gets reduced to about five seconds remaining.

Hansol isn’t done either, and it became abundantly clear that the saying that you don’t notice your habits until they’re laid out in front of you is true. “And then when he disappeared, so did you. I even offered to go with you, in case he was sick or something, and you pretty much told me to fuck off. Which is fine, I suppose, but it’s not… it’s not something just anyone does. Hyungwon, what is going on?”

Hyungwon looks at Hansol, keeping his voice level. “Nothing is going on.” He punctuates each word harshly. He sounds sort of convincing, he thinks. 

There’s an increase in pace now, because all Hyungwon really wants to do is go home and stop having this conversation. But the road doesn’t miraculously shorten, and there’s only so much more he can lengthen his stride before Hansol would point it out.

“Hyungwon, please, I know I’m not your ‘best’ friend, but I’m close to you, and I care about you and I want to know what’s happening in your life and I want you to trust me enough that I won’t judge you for it,” Hansol says, his tone pleading.

“Hansol, there’s nothing to tell you, I’m serious. I don’t… there’s nothing between us.”

The wind picks up and he barely hears Hansol’s whispered reply. “There’s nothing shameful about having feelings for someone.”

Hyungwon's voice takes on a harsh tone. “Hansol – drop it. He’s just an affectionate person. We’re good friends. That’s it. There’s nothing more to it.” Speaking louder doesn’t strengthen an argument and Hyungwon now realizes he doesn’t sound particularly convincing at all.

This quietens them both, and they don’t say anything until they’re outside Hyungwon’s apartment complex. He feels a thread of guilt in his mind for snapping at perhaps the nicest possible person to have this conversation with. The apartment building looks down on them, dwarfing them, and Hyungwon tightens his coat, the cold hitting him.

“I had a good time,” Hyungwon says, exhaling. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Okay. I enjoyed myself too, Hyungwon. Thanks for the food.” And Hansol seems sincere. But he doesn’t move even when it’s obvious this is the part where he walks away.

“Hyungwon,” Hansol says, his gaze downcast. “I remember when you asked me what you do when you kiss someone you’re not supposed to.”

“Hansol-” Hyungwon begins, warningly, because he can’t just come out and say it, he can’t, that’s too much, and Hyungwon isn’t ready for that, if he says it out loud, it’ll be real-

“I think I have an answer,” Hansol breathes out, his breath misting. “Figure out if they’re worth breaking the reason why you shouldn’t and take it from there. See you around, Hyungwon. Sleep well.”

And Hansol walks away, his hands in his pockets, and he doesn’t look behind him and Hyungwon stares at his back until it disappears from his view.

20^th November

Hyungwon’s going to put a stop to this, he decides. It’s not because of Hansol’s horrible advice, he’s ignoring that, because what does he know anyway? Of course Minhyuk is worth it, if it was just a question of worth, then Hyungwon's problem would be solved instantly. Minhyuk was the single most radiant entity in the universe, if there was anyone undeserving it was Hyungwon himself. But it’s not that simple.

The thing that Hyungwon was starting to realize was that people like him ended up being surrounded by these incredible individuals, and rather than uplifting himself, Hyungwon drags them down to his own level.

What right did he have to just claim ownership of Minhyuk because of his own desires? The matter of reciprocation was something else, Hyungwon should have never started anything to begin with. Still, regardless of his past weakness, he’s made a decision.

The reason he needs to stop is because he’s getting too comfortable, it’s getting too domestic, kissing goodnight daily and seeing Minhyuk's face light up is too much and Hyungwon can’t wean himself off gently. Because this is a drug, Minhyuk is a perfect drug and he has to stop entirely. He has to give it all up.

If Hansol noticed, it’s just a matter of time till someone less understanding does, till someone sees the way Hyungwon looks at him, till someone notices that when they sit next to each other Minhyuk traces small circles on Hyungwon’s knee.

Hyungwon can’t be with someone like Minhyuk. It’s just a statement of facts. They’ve got careers, they’ve got futures, and Hyungwon can’t be responsible for hindering that in any capacity.

Hyungwon also shouldn’t be with someone like Minhyuk. Minhyuk, who was kind and caring and bright, deserved someone so unashamed and unabashed in the way they adore him, someone who isn’t afraid of their feelings, who could confidently express their emotions in the perfect words. It’s perhaps just his own misfortune that he unfortunately only has Hyungwon, who fits none of those criteria.

He’s firm in his decision when he makes it, he’s so sure, because if he ends things now they could still salvage their friendship. It’ll take time, but it’s not fractured beyond repair, not yet.

But Hyungwon needs to realize that he’s hopelessly weak when it comes to Minhyuk. He’s always been, and there’s never been an exception. It’s become intensified lately, as if the more leniencies he gives himself, the harder it is to go back how it used to be. Once tasted, twice as hard to resist.

Later, he’ll wonder why he’s surprised that when Minhyuk comes home from visiting a friend and lingers in the lounge, back against the wall, leaning casually, Hyungwon lasts through about two minutes of exchanging pleasantries before he succumbs and he grabs Minhyuk and kisses him deeply, licking into his mouth. If he had a defense, it would be that Minhyuk was wearing that plaid shirt, the one he loved so much, that clung to his figure just right. It’s not really a defense, but Hyungwon supposes he wasn’t really trying to defend himself.

The rational part of his mind screams at him to stop, but he figures this final interaction is fine. One last chocolate before giving up decadence forever. Hyungwon has him against the wall, hands fisted in that plaid shirt, and it’s just the usual making out and it’s as hot as ever. Hyungwon has never gotten tired of kissing him. Hyungwon also wonders why ‘usual’ has become associated with kissing Minhyuk. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

Minhyuk slots a leg in between Hyungwon's and that’s venturing into dangerously tempting territory. Their pelvises are close together, and the pressure in his groin intensifies. But then, Minhyuk extricates himself from the kiss. “Hyungwon,” Minhyuk whispers, voice hoarse, saliva running down his mouth, looking thoroughly debauched.

“What’s wrong?” Hyungwon whispers back, fingers not moving from their place cupping his neck.

“Nothing’s wrong. I just…”

“Tell me.”

Minhyuk's gaze darkens and his tongue darts out to lick his lips. “Fuck me. Please.”

Hyungwon’s mind crashes to a halt. “What?”

Minhyuk repeats himself and it doesn’t help Hyungwon’s understanding any more. It was his rule, it was the final rule that still remained intact, he can’t-

“Please, please, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk is babbling, running a hand up and down the planes of Hyungwon’s abdomen, igniting the skin wherever he touches. “I can’t take it anymore. Please fuck me. I’ll make you feel good. I’ll beg if that’s what you want from me, I don’t care, I need you-”

And Hyungwon wants to, of course Hyungwon wants to, he’s been feeling up Minhyuk for the past few months, and in the few times that they’ve tilted too close to each other, it sends a wave of pleasure through him that just makes him want more, but it always ends abruptly by Hyungwon’s own decision. Because of his rule, because it’s the one thing Hyungwon still has to his name that he hasn’t compromised. And it’s been mercilessly difficult trying to stick to that singular rule. Kissing is never enough, if Hyungwon is to be honest, not when it’s Minhyuk he’s kissing.

But it’s his rule. It’s the last one Hyungwon has left, the last lifeboat on a sinking ship. After this, there’s no going back, it’s going to end badly, Hyungwon knows that much –

But he also knows Minhyuk is standing in front of him, his head buried in Hyungwon’s shoulder blade, his fingers dancing around the waistband of his pants, lips swollen and pouted and he looks absolutely irresistible. And Hyungwon doesn’t know if he has the strength to say no. “I can’t wait any longer, it’s been months, I need you.”

“Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says, licking his lips. “Are you… are you sure? Are you entirely sure?”

He looks up at him with dark, dark eyes. “Please.”

“Minhyuk…”

His hands crawl up to Hyungwon’s face, holding his cheek. When he speaks, his tone has a hint of fear. “Do you not want me?”

It breaks the fragile thread of control Hyungwon still had because despite everything and anything, and months of rules and denials, he can’t deny Minhyuk at his most basic questions. “Always,” he answers, his mouth dry. “I’ve always wanted you.” More than anything else he’s ever wanted.

He clashes their mouths together, and there’s a new harshness to the way Minhyuk kisses him, it’s deeper and more desperate. Minhyuk steps back, holding on so tightly, as if worried someone would try to separate them as he tries to navigate them to his room.

Hyungwon’s clothes were discarded before they even walked in the door, and he didn’t miss the sharp intake of breath Minhyuk gave upon seeing his body. It’s nothing inherently new, they’ve showered together before – but everything is new when in this light, and the light in this instant is the fading rays of sunset splaying out on Minhyuk’s bare thighs.   

It’s good. It’s too good. It’s better than Hyungwon had ever dreamed of, to have Minhyuk underneath him, pliant and moaning, nails digging into the skin on his back. He’s loud and demanding in the when and way he wants Hyungwon, and he’s finding himself more than a little crazy about this side of Minhyuk. He’s so clear about what he desires and Hyungwon is rather pleased that he himself is included in that list.

It’s hypnotizing when Minhyuk whines at Hyungwon to enter him already, and he can’t be blamed for being distracted. In this state, he’s a gorgeous display that Hyungwon could stare at for hours, but Minhyuk had already complained about fingers not being enough, and he presses the nails piercing into his back harder and Hyungwon tries to regain the ability to move his muscles. They set a rhythm and it’s almost like it’s one of those nights where they practice so late and their bodies are so tired that they don’t speak, they just move.

They just fit perfectly, it doesn’t even seem like they’re separate, there’s no end or beginning, it’s just heat and passion and it just feels so, so good.

Hyungwon attaches a new addendum to his rule as he watches in mute wonder as Minhyuk reaches his climax. It’s fine if they fuck, as long as it was nothing more than physical pleasure. Hyungwon has to make that addition to his rule because now that’s he seen what’s he like, he won’t survive if he never gets to experience it again.

He breaks the rule as quickly as he makes it. In the moment after he comes, instead of pulling out and taking a shower alone and coping with the consequences of what he’s just done, he just pulls Minhyuk in for a kiss, a tender brush of lips, caressing his face with his hands, and he doesn’t stop. He proceeds to press sloppy kisses on his forehead, his nose, his chin and his cheeks until Minhyuk giggles, swatting him off.

“Stop being so soppy, god, if I knew you’d have enjoyed it this much I’d have offered ages ago,” Minhyuk says, but he’s smiling brighter than the sun. He’s naked and sweaty with swollen lips – and he looks beautiful.

Hyungwon hesitates as he hovers above Minhyuk, reasonably certain he should leave, but as he tries to Minhyuk pulls him back in and kisses him again.

He doesn’t mean to, and he knows he shouldn’t, he knows he shouldn’t –

But he falls asleep there, next to Minhyuk, tangled in him. He doesn’t think he can leave even if he tries.

There’s no escape from a singularity.

22^nd November

Hyungwon updates the things he’s learnt about living with Minhyuk.

1. He likes to watch romance movies and romance dramas, likes to root for the ‘best friend’ in the shows, and Hyungwon tries not to overanalyze it like he overanalyzes everything.
2. He hates having to wait for a shower, and would rather wake up early than have to wait for Hyungwon to finish.
3. He hums to himself. (A lot.)
4. When they’re so deeply entangled inside and around each other, Hyungwon's mouth sucking on any part of skin he can get his hands on, languidly swiping up and down with his tongue, Minhyuk’s moans are so loud, Hyungwon wonders if there have ever been noise complaints. It might be his second favourite sound.

27^th November

“Hyungwon?” Minhyuk asks while the pads of Hyungwon’s fingers brush across his collarbones. Their hips are rocking together, not quite grinding, but nothing near the realm of innocent either. “Your mind looks miles away. What are you thinking about?”

He’s thinking about the contrast of Minhyuk's burning hot skin and the cool metal of the ring he wears that brushes over his flesh. Hyungwon isn’t really thinking though, this is just pure feeling, operating with no conscious thought behind it. He says exactly what’s on his mind with no embellishments. “I like when you wear that ring.”

Minhyuk halts his ministrations. “Why?” he asks, curiosity evident, tightening his legs around Hyungwon's thighs.

 And Hyungwon really doesn’t think when he just effortlessly and truthfully answers: “I like seeing you wear something I bought you. I like the idea of knowing it’s because of me. It’s like a little silent reminder to everyone else that you’re mine.”

Minhyuk's eyes darken and he bites his bottom lip, pulling Hyungwon closer. He assumes it’s a kiss, and his lips are already parted – but then Minhyuk leans to his ear, whispering airily: “Are we dating?”

Hyungwon, ever the rational, instantly recoils, stepping back from his position above Minhyuk on the island countertop. He splutters loudly as he stumbles onto solid ground, attempting to adjust to the sudden change in gravity.

Minhyuk hops off the countertop, with much more grace, and looks at Hyungwon inquiringly. “That was a very intimate thing to say, Won.”

Hyungwon merely stares ahead, blinking rapidly. “I… I guess. Was I not supposed to say it?”

Minhyuk's face softens. “You’re not supposed to say anything, and the fact that you did makes me happy but… Hyungwon we need to talk about what exactly is going on between us, because I don’t know if I can still walk away from this like you can.”

Walk away? Hyungwon's hands fidget with themselves. Was he being dumped? Well, that was ridiculous, they weren’t ever together. “I...”

“I’ve said before that I won’t pressure you, and I won’t, but I feel like I need to know how you interpret this. Every time I try and ask you, you never give me a direct answer. And I need one Hyungwon, even if the answer is no. Because this,” Minhyuk gestures to the two of them, “is becoming a habit. And it’s one I’m becoming increasingly fond of. Hyungwon, are we together?”

And Hyungwon who had thought about this for many long showers, had still not come up with a decisive answer, and Minhyuk’s unflinching eye contact only heightened his anxiety. Every attempt he tried at organizing his feelings felt like he was just shoving them further and further to the back of his mind.

“I don’t know.”

Minhyuk just looks disappointed. “You can’t keep telling me that, it’s not an answer!” His hand covers his mouth, as if shocked at his own words. “I can give you time, if that’s what you want. I can also give you space. But you also need to just tell me if this means nothing to you so I can sort out what it means to me..”

“I’d tell you if I knew,” Hyungwon pleads. “I don’t know what I’m feeling or thinking, and I can’t figure it out, I’m just… very taken with you.”

Minhyuk steps back, buttoning his shirt. “If this is just physical to you, Hyungwon, that’s… well that’s fine for you. But it’s not for me, Hyungwon, it’s never been.” The pain in Minhyuk’s voice is vivid.

And Hyungwon hesitates – because as long as he knew Minhyuk, it always seemed as if he understood the tangles in his mind better than Hyungwon himself did. And maybe like all the other times, Minhyuk was right again. What if it really was just physical? Could Hyungwon have just been hopelessly struck by his beauty and couldn’t control himself and his cowardly desires? And the more he thinks about it, the more it seems plausible. It’s the only possible explanation for why he couldn’t just get himself to stop.

“Do I mean something to you, Hyungwon? Do you care about me beyond my role as your friend?” Minhyuk asks.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

When Minhyuk speaks, his tone is harsh – but sad, there’s such a deep and palpable sadness in his words that it sinks to the ground. “Get back to me when you do, then.”

He pushes past Hyungwon as he goes to his room, and slams the door. A moment later, it locks. Hesitating outside his door, Hyungwon wants nothing more than to be able to knock and talk to him, but he has no idea what to say, not when there was a possibility Minhyuk may have been entirely correct about everything.

His mind still reels from the whiplash, the contrast from having moments before been pinning Minhyuk underneath him on the countertop, licking vertical lines up and down his neck and now being reasonably sure he may have set an irreparable fracture in a friendship once crystalline.

Minhyuk doesn’t leave his room and Hyungwon cannot pretend to be surprised.

1^st December

Friday nights become a much lonelier affair.

11^st December

“So, what’s the New Year’s plans?” Jinwoo asks and from the way he looks at Hyungwon, he’s already fearful at what Jinwoo is concocting.

“I’m almost certain we’ve got other things to do than party,” Hyungwon is quick to say. Jinwoo laughs.

“Of course we don’t. It’s New Years! So, I propose: New Year’s Party. Your place.”

“That’s a big no from me,” Hyungwon says, picking up his bottle of water. “We had a party literally last month.”

“It’s the New Year. It’s bigger than all of us. Come on, it’ll be fun. You won’t even have to lift a finger, I’ll ask Hansol’s contact for the champagne, we can order pizza again and Hyerin will handle the music. Please?”

Hyungwon pursues his lips. “Jinwoo, I don’t know. I just thought I’d watch something on TV.”

A cunning glint enters Jinwoo’s eyes. “You know it’s your birthday after the new year.”

“Really? I had no idea. Thanks for letting me know.”

Jinwoo ignores the sarcasm, mopping his neck with his a towel. “If we have a party for New Year’s, I won’t bother you about your birthday plans. We can do whatever you want. Or nothing at all. I won’t pressure you at all. If all you want is a text, that’s all you’ll get. All your rules.”

And, oh, that’s tempting. Hyungwon really wouldn’t mind going over to Jinwoo’s house on his birthday and playing video games on his flat screen.     

“I don’t know, Jinwoo, you’ll have to ask Minhyuk. It’s his place too, you know,” Hyungwon reminds him.

Jinwoo shrugs. “Can’t you ask him? He likes you more.”

Hyungwon had reasonable certainty that Minhyuk absolutely hated him. They could barely be in the same room anymore, Minhyuk spending more and more time staying late at practice and in his bedroom.

“Jinwoo, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hyungwon says, fidgeting with the bottle in his hand. “Can’t we just go out somewhere-”

Minhyuk, passing by on his way to the bathroom, gets intercepted by Jinwoo who grabs him by the arm and pulls him in front of Hyungwon. He tries not to crumple at the way Minhyuk's face takes on an expression of what could only be described as disgust when he faces Hyungwon.

“Hyungwon has a favour to ask,” Jinwoo kindly prompts, patting Minhyuk on the back before scooting away.

Minhyuk waits, expectantly, arms crossed.

“Uh. Do you want to host a New Year’s Party?” Hyungwon says, wondering when it became so difficult to say a single sentence to his best friend.

“Do whatever you want, Hyungwon,” Minhyuk replies. He turns on his heel but Hyungwon jumps to his feet.

“Minhyuk, wait, just-” he breaks off. “What do you want?”

“Hyungwon, I have made it abundantly clear what I want. I think it’s you that’s having the problem with that. Enjoy your party.”

All Hyungwon can do is watch him close the studio door and leave.

16^th December

Hyungwon wonders how he could be so physically close to him, barely a room away, but feel like they’re on opposite sides of the universe.

23^rd December

Hyungwon misses him. That’s the naked truth of it, that’s the centre of everything, it’s the void that Hyungwon tries to fill with the academy, with friends, and with shows. He tries everything, and nothing fills it, and Hyungwon wonders if he’ll just have to learn how to live with the emptiness.

Minhyuk barely looks at Hyungwon, and when he does, his eyes are filled with a despondency that Hyungwon cannot begin to comprehend. They barely talk, and when they do, it’s just basic conversation over rent and grocery shopping.

All Hyungwon wants to do is bring him into his arms and take away that sadness, but Hyungwon is a flawed man, and Hyungwon is ultimately, a coward and he doesn’t think he has the words possible to fix a situation so hopelessly bent and broken.

His own pain he could handle. It was Minhyuk's pain that he couldn’t - his wonderful, shining Minhyuk, who paces around the apartment like a ghost, who wakes up early and sleeps late, just to avoid seeing Hyungwon at mealtimes. It physically pains in his chest because it’s his fault, and he knew this would happen and he went along with it anyway, and it’s all because he’s just so weak.

If he knew what to say to take away his hurt, he would. But Hyungwon doesn’t. 

He’s too weak to even have the strength to walk down the corridor.

31^st December

“Glass of champagne for the host?” Hyerin says, holding out a glass. “On the house!”

“Why would I pay for alcohol at my own house party?” Hyungwon replies, taking the glass anyway.

It’s his second drink of the night. He’s had a surprisingly sober New Year’s Eve, nothing necessarily preventing him from drinking but nothing necessarily prompting him to either. He supposes he could use alcohol to avoid his problems, but Hyungwon also feels like he deserves to feel bad, because it’s all his fault that things ended up in this mess anyway.

Minhyuk had emerged from his room at around eight, conversed happily as he always did, and Hyungwon lost sight of him when he was roped into joining a match of FIFA. He was mercilessly kicked out when he failed to score a goal, which was understandable.

It’s nice seeing all of Hyungwon and Minhyuk’s friends gathered at their house. There are a few people from the academy, friends of friends, and overall it’s certainly a larger affair than Minhyuk's birthday party, but Jinwoo took his hosting duties seriously. The air is light and Hyungwon tries to enjoy himself.

Time might be an illusion, but the idea of starting a new year is one that’s highly appealing. Hyungwon rests against the hallway closet, and catches eye of Hansol. He’s busy talking to some girls, but upon seeing Hyungwon, he tilts his head to the side questioningly, and it’s abundantly clear he’s wordlessly asking where Minhyuk is. And Hyungwon realizes he doesn’t know and figures he should find him, to at least keep him in his sight.

Minhyuk is, surprisingly, not in his room like he expected. When Hyungwon opened the door, he ended up becoming an unwilling voyeur to Seungyoon’s heated makeout session with a girl at the academy, and immediately steps back, closing the door behind him with more force than necessary.

Feeling the overwhelming urge to clean his hands, he makes a mental note to do the laundry (and also tell Jinwoo to fuck off next time he wants to throw a party). He enters his own room, wholly preoccupied with fetching his hand sanitizer and nearly jumps back when he finds Minhyuk sitting on the floor next to his bed, a glass in one hand, and one of Hyungwon’s poetry books in the other.

“This shit is deep, you know? Like these are real feelings,” Minhyuk says when Hyungwon raises an eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, I know right? Poetry does that,” Hyungwon says conversationally, reaching for the bottle on his desk. “What are you doing in here and not out there?”

“Came to borrow a phone charger because my room got taken over and got kind of distracted,” Minhyuk shrugs. “Where do you have time to read all of these?”

It’s not uncommon for Minhyuk to turn up in Hyungwon’s room, just casually lying on the floor or making himself at home on the bed, picking up whatever book is on his bedside and skimming through it. It was, of course, uncommon now.

There’s such domesticity to seeing Minhyuk back in his room that Hyungwon struggles to keep the emotion out of his voice.

“I haven’t in a while,” Hyungwon says, slightly melancholic. “But it’s good to have them there if I ever want to read a specific poem. If I’m ever in a particular kind of mood. It’s nice.”

Minhyuk juts out his bottom lip and nods, considering. “Yeah, I get that.” He pauses. “Lots of poems about love.”

“It’s a topic worth writing about,” is all Hyungwon diplomatically responds.

Hyungwon eyes pinpoint the remaining champagne in the glass in Minhyuk's hand. “Are you drunk?”

Minhyuk looks up at Hyungwon and gives a smile devoid of any joy. “Hyungwon, I am so horribly and horrifically sober that I wish I was.”

“Ah,” is all Hyungwon can say.

“Are you drunk?”

“No,” Hyungwon says, rather abruptly wishing he was. It’s the first time they’ve been alone in a room in a month and Hyungwon is unsure how to navigate the now unfamiliar territory. “No, I’m not.”

“Do you want me to leave your room?” Minhyuk asks after a while. They both are unmoving.

“No.”

It’s nice seeing him back in here, even under the circumstances.

Hyungwon takes the fact Minhyuk hadn’t left yet as an invitation to sit down, across from him, his back against the wall. He looks good, his hair done, his shirt ironed – but there’s a hollowness in his eyes that may be unnoticeable to everyone else, but Hyungwon has become so attuned to the nuances of Minhyuk's face that it strikes out to him.

“Are you enjoying the party?” Hyungwon asks, avoiding silence by any means possible.

“Truthfully I’m not, but I think you knew that,” Minhyuk replies. There’s a sharp edge to his words and it lacerates Hyungwon with every syllable.

Hyungwon runs his hand through his hair. “Look, I know we should... probably talk.”

“You know what, Hyungwon? We don’t have to.” Minhyuk almost seems to be laughing. “You don’t actually have to talk about this at all to me. You know why? Because in a little over two weeks your lease expires, and you’ll finally be free, and isn’t that exactly what you want?”

There’s genuine hurt in Minhyuk’s voice. “You can move out and move in with Hansol or Jinwoo or even just go back home and never come back. You don’t have to deal with me anymore, because I know I had to make everything difficult for you. You just had this beautiful plan of your life and knew exactly who you were and then I came around and I messed everything up and you suddenly had all these unfamiliar emotions and desires and it’s all my fault for awakening this in you to begin with.”

“Minhyuk... Minhyuk, no. No, that’s-” Hyungwon breaks off, his heart threatening to fragment into shards. “I don’t want to move out. Why would I want to leave? Why would you think that?”

This was his home, this tiny apartment with its horrible hot water capacity and its nine flights of stairs, was his home. And Minhyuk, with his humming and his dinosaur-shaped cereal and his dirty dishes was his home as well.

“What do you mean ‘why would I think that’? You’ve given me no evidence to suggest otherwise!” There’s a hint of anger in Minhyuk’s voice and his eyebrows furrow. “The last time we had a genuine conversation was for you to have this party here, and I certainly didn’t want it, but you did. And I suppose that was enough for me because I’m so far gone that even when I’m incredibly hurt and angry at you, I still want you to be happy. I still want to give you what you want.”

The music pulses through the floorboards. Hyungwon can feel the vibrations in the silence that lingers in the air.

“Minhyuk, I wasn’t trying to avoid you,” Hyungwon finally says. “And I don’t want to leave.”

“Hyungwon, you have barely spoken to me in a month,” Minhyuk states.

Hyungwon gazes at him, despairingly. “I thought that’s what you wanted! You haven’t tried to spend time with me either!”

“Because it hurts, Hyungwon, it genuinely hurts to have to look at you,” Minhyuk says, dropping his gaze. “It hurts looking at you right now. I’ve missed you so much and the very notion is incredible considering I see you daily, but you’re worlds apart from me right now.”

He missed him. He actually missed him. The void in his chest threatens to engulf his entire ribcage. 

“I miss you too,” Hyungwon says. It seems so childish, too simple to say but it’s the unembellished truth.

“Not enough to even apologize to me, though?”

Hyungwon fixes his gaze on a corner of the wall. The wall is marred with a black mark and he recalls the incident which led to it:  Minhyuk tripping over an electrical wire and a lamp crashing into the wall. Oh, Hyungwon remembered realizing, there goes the security deposit.

He wonders if Minhyuk even remembers it.

“I wouldn’t know what to say to you, Minhyuk,” Hyungwon says. “I have a lot to apologize for and I don’t know where I’d start.”

“It’s just so quintessentially you to say nothing rather than say something you deem as imperfect. Hyungwon, I don’t actually care if your words aren’t as good as you think they should be, I care that you say them.” There’s a hint of humour in Minhyuk's voice but it disappears as quickly as it appeared. “You really are a very consistent man, aren’t you?”

“To a fault,” Hyungwon replies, staring at his hands.

“Hyungwon, all I ever asked was that you didn’t confuse me and that’s exactly what you did.” Minhyuk’s tone is soft. “I don’t blame you if that’s what you’re worried about. I think I’m more angry at myself for foreseeing this possibility of heartbreak happen, and going along with it anyway, encouraging it.” Hyungwon looks up to see Minhyuk biting on his thumbnail. “But I didn’t care, Hyungwon, I just liked you so much and I didn’t care if it was just a passing experimental phase for you - and that’s what I assumed it was. But then you slept with me, you actually took me to your bedroom, not to fuck me but just because you wanted me there. So then I thought that maybe there was something more that you were just trying to figure out?”

The champagne in Minhyuk's glass threatens to spill out, and Hyungwon instantly becomes worried that it’ll fall on his bedding, and then nearly laughs at his mind’s own horrible attempts at distraction.

Minhyuk pauses as if sensing Hyungwon’s discomfort and places the glass on his bedside table, out of danger. “But if there was, you never showed it. It was just about the making out. So, right, I reasoned to myself you’re just in it for the sex, which is fine, we can be friends with benefits and I won’t end up having my heartbroken, that’s my delusion for the day. But that theory gets thrown out of the window too, because you wouldn’t even lay your hands on me until I had to literally beg you to fuck me. You’re just a mass of contradictions, Hyungwon, and I’m so lost in your maze.”

“It was never just about anything,” Hyungwon exhales. The mark on the wall is glaring at him, judging him. Hyungwon resolves to paint it in the new year. “When it’s you… it’s just everything. It’s just so much that I don’t think I could begin to quantify it.”

He feels a presence and Minhyuk lays a hand underneath Hyungwon’s chin, gently tilting it towards him until they’re making eye contact, unflinching direct eye contact. His skin ripples at the contact of Minhyuk's gentle fingers. “Hyungwon, what am I to you? What was all of this? I kept telling you, if you didn’t feel the same, it was fine, if it was a mistake, it was fine but all you ever did was tell me you meant it. Hyungwon, you must hate me if I’ve ended up pressurizing you into anything. I just don’t understand. Hyungwon, please, tell me.”

And Hyungwon’s thoughts coil itself tighter and tighter and guilt grips his throat as he realizes how selfish he was, how selfish he’s always been, how throughout everything that happened over this past year, the only thing that really shines is his own personal weakness.

And that’s just the antithesis of Minhyuk whose strength shines, whose positivity shines, who just shines in general and Hyungwon is just everything but that, and not for the first time, Hyungwon thinks he didn’t deserve to have a fraction as much of Minhyuk's heart and time. And that cowardice that has made a home in the recesses of Hyungwon’s mind tries to find a reason that he should delay this conversation, or make up some excuse-

But he can’t. Not while Minhyuk looks at him with eyes full of confusion, not while Minhyuk genuinely believes that Hyungwon must hate him. Nothing could be further from the truth.

“You can move out. You can leave this apartment and look, I know it’s my fault because I had to go and just end up having all these feelings, but you just have to give me some time, a few months, and we can go back to being friends like we used to. Then it’ll be good, again! We can still hang out and eat dinner together, and watch dramas together like we used to!” Minhyuk's words are so rushed, as if every breadth of silence is one that immediately needs to be filled. “Hyungwon, just say something, you haven’t really said anything and I don’t think I have any words left.”

A singularity has no beginning or end, it just exists as a state of infinity. Hyungwon isn’t sure exactly about the extents of the physical nature of infinity, but he realizes now his feelings come mathematically close.

“Minhyuk, I am conflicted,” Hyungwon says as Minhyuk’s hazel eyes stare into his own. “I should not be as completely enraptured by you as I am yet at the same time, I wonder how I wasn’t from the moment I saw you. I don’t really believe in fate, but there has to be some reason why I feel like I’ve been drawn into you. I feel like with you I’m always hurtling forward to a point and I think it’s this one here.”

“You’ve said that before,” Minhyuk says, turning his head to the side, eyes widening. “You’ve said those exact words before.”

“Really?”

“I didn’t quite believe you then,” Minhyuk says. “I don’t even think I understood you.”

“Then I’m sorry for confusing you, but do you believe me now?” Hyungwon asks. “Because it’s true, Minhyuk, I just...” the words catch on his lips. And then he starts thinking about a thousand possible ways to get out of this conversation, on how to end this uncomfortable tension, on how to continue being a coward.

And then, quite suddenly, he decides to stop thinking. And he says exactly what’s thrumming through his heart and through his veins in that moment, and what honestly has been thrumming through his mind for about a year. “Minhyuk, I’ve fallen completely in love with you and I don’t know what to do about that.”

The world stops spinning and the words that came out of Hyungwon's mouth surely couldn’t have come from Hyungwon. But, god, of course, it makes sense, it all makes perfect sense, he was just so completely in love with Minhyuk this entire time, he’s been in love with him for so long, and he didn’t even recognize it. And, oh, that’s why he could never stop himself, that’s why he kept breaking his silly rules, he was just so hopelessly taken with him. How stupid, stupid, stupid of Hyungwon not to realize he’d become hopelessly enamoured with the boy down the hall.

Hyungwon realizes he didn’t even a chance. How stupid he was to think he could ever resist falling for him when Minhyuk was always so perfect and beautiful and bright and so full of love.

The corners of Minhyuk's eyes glisten. “You love me?”

“I love you,” Hyungwon repeats, slowly, carefully, testing each syllable across his mouth. It fits. It fits perfectly.

“You love me?” Minhyuk repeats, his voice cracking. “You actually love me? You’re in love with me?”

“Yes.” His voice fills the room. “Minhyuk, I’m sorry for taking so long to realize it- but, oh, I really do love you, don’t I? Oh God, I didn’t know. Oh God, someone should have told me.”

“Hyungwon, all I ever wanted was to not be confused and that’s all you did to me!” Minhyuk scrunches his forehead and swats him on the shoulder. “Hyungwon! You didn’t have to take so long to realize this, did you?! Oh God, Hyungwon, could you not have figured this out months ago?!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Hyungwon says gripping his hands in his own, closing over them like they’re something valuable, bring them to his lips. He runs his thumb over Minhyuk’s thin fingers, bumping at the ring he wears on his index finger - oh, he still wears it - and his hands are so soft. “Minhyuk, I’m so sorry for causing you any pain at all, but trust that I’m less of an idiot than I was a moment ago and less of a coward than I was an hour ago.”

“And what could have possibly in changed in that time?” Minhyuk replies, staring deeply and intently in Hyungwon's eyes.

“You spoke to me. Even though you said it hurt to look at me, you still spoke to me. You told me that even if I broke your heart, you’d still want me in your life. Minhyuk, you’re so strong,” Hyungwon says, the words feeling foolish when he says them out loud. He presses a gentle kiss on their hands and Minhyuk shivers, his breath unsteady.

“I don’t think people usually say that about me,” he replies, standing up, their hands still interlinked, pulling Hyungwon up with him. The fondness in his eyes is immeasurable. “Was that why you were acting like such an idiot?”

“Yes. I’m just really, really stupid, Minhyuk and you’re just so…”

“Persistent?” Minhyuk suggests.

“Perfect.”

Minhyuk’s eyes widen. “You really like me, don’t you? You really do?”

“More than I should,” Hyungwon whispers, leaning in and he hesitates - but then he sees the way Minhyuk’s eyes flutter closed and a smile grows on his face. He cups his face and brings their lips together. Minhyuk melts in the kiss, throwing his arms around Hyungwon, pulling him tighter, inhaling him. The party carries on in the room next to them, the music keeps playing and the new year approaches, and all Hyungwon cares is the way Minhyuk holds him, smiling up at him before pulling him in for another kiss.

It’s sweet. It always is.

1^st January

“Happy New Year, Hyungw- oh!” Hansol breaks off, hastily leaving the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Breaking away from the tender way Hyungwon holds his jaw and the soft tickle of his kiss, Minhyuk calls after: “Happy New Year, Hansol!”

13^th January

Hyungwon’s birthday present is a crowded room.

“It’s something I’ve been thinking about. We end up sleeping in my bed every night, and every morning we waste time trying to get the clothes out of your room but your jeans is under my bed, and somehow there’s underwear on the microwave, and no one can find their shoes and that’s just kind of too stressful for early mornings,” Minhyuk is rambling, his hands fidgeting. “So I was thinking I’ll rearrange some closet space, give away my old manga so there’s a few free shelves, we can move your dresser in, and this could just kind of become… our room.”

Minhyuk waits for a response but none comes. “Of course, we don’t have to! I understand if you still want your space. But if you move here you can still have it! Like don’t throw away your poetry books or anything, you can still keep your room. It’s just…”

He trails off, focusing his eyes on a spot on his bedroom floor. It’s so rare to see Minhyuk shy that Hyungwon resists the urge to hold him tightly and squeeze him like he’s an adorable plush toy. Instead, Hyungwon lays a hand on his shoulder, a gentle encouragement. “It’s just what?” Hyungwon prompts, his voice soft.

Minhyuk wills the courage to look at Hyungwon and he whispers: “I like waking up next to you.”

Oh. Hyungwon's ribcage can’t handle the explosion that occurred in his heart. He can understand, of course. Minhyuk in those few dreamlike seconds between sleeping and waking up, where his face is serene and he automatically reach for Hyungwon's hand, holding him tightly is a memory that becomes crystallized in his mind for the rest of his life. It’s hardly a difficult decision. 

“Minhyuk, are you sure?” Hyungwon says, because old habits die hard, and he just wouldn’t be Hyungwon if he didn’t feel the need to clarify everything twice.

Minhyuk wraps his arm Hyungwon's waist, pulling him tighter. “I am. Are you?”

The view outside Minhyuk's window is somehow even more disappointing than the view outside Hyungwon's. The buildings are replaced with the bricking of an alleyway, only a small strip of blue sky and road to suggest there’s something beyond the wall. It’s a change. It’s a good one.

“Yeah. Yeah I am,” Hyungwon says, tilting his head to rest on Minhyuk's. He holds him closer, savouring the warmth that fills him. He can feel Minhyuk's quiet exhales and inhales as he breathes next to him.

“Come on birthday boy, I’ll take you to that Thai place you like,” Minhyuk says, gently tapping him on the shoulder. “We can move you in tomorrow.”

Hyungwon lingers for a moment in the room, inhaling the scent of Minhyuk's vanilla cologne. He sees a future with vivid clarity. It’s a crystalline point in time. Hyungwon’s eyes flutter close for a moment and he can imagine waking up next to him every morning. He thinks he’ll like it here.

∞

A singularity has no edge. There is no time and there is no space and each moment is just the same sustained moment played out infinitely. It’s always only ever been one moment, it’s just one single sustained exhale that Hyungwon insisted upon separating into individual passages of time so he could ignore what was the truth. Because it’s easy to ignore small singular incidents over a long year, than to have to realize and admit to himself that he’d been irrevocably in love with Minhyuk from the moment the first flower bloomed in his heart.

It’s just been the same linear progression from the moment he met Minhyuk and it was always going to be like this, it was always proceeding to this point of singularity where everything is infinite. That’s what it’s like loving Minhyuk, wholly infinite, entirely overwhelming and complete – so complete.  

At the center of a singularity is nothing. It is a point where there is no time and there is no space – there is nothing. And nothing begins everything, and nothing created the ever expanding, ever encompassing world that surrounds them and the world they built themselves. They are nothing. And because of that, from Hyungwon’s point of view, right at the center: Minhyuk is everything.