Chapter Text
Junhui groans, flinging his corner of the blankets off him, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stands up, careful to not disturb Minghao. The blinds are drawn, Junhui can’t tell what time it is but it’s still dark out and figures it has to be past midnight. He grumbles to himself, groggily making his way to the washroom, even if his eyes haven’t adjusted to making out shapes in the dark yet.
As it turns out, Minghao prefers the left side of the bed, the side closer to the washroom, leaving Junhui to have to walk around the bed in order to get to it if he doesn’t want to fumble and roll over Minghao to get to it. He usually doesn’t mind, it’s a small price to pay for having Minghao stay over, even during these nightly washroom trips. He sort of minds when Minghao decides to toss over, facing the outside of the bed, right at the washroom. It’s dark and Minghao is likely still asleep but Junhui nudges the door somewhat closed just in case.
When Junhui settles back under the covers, the movements must have stirred Minghao, who tosses over again with a light groan. An arm is draped over Junhui’s chest, the owner of whom shifts closer, and noses into Junhui’s neck with a small sigh. Instinctively, Junhui wraps an arm around in return and spares a mild thought as to how his insides are still fluttering around after all this time.
The thought still hits him sometimes, how almost four months into this whole dating thing with Minghao, Junhui feels like he should be used to these things by now but also isn’t.
By now, he’s gotten accustomed to the fact that Minghao is a very light sleeper, which makes his midnight washroom treks a bit trickier. And if they rattle Byuli up enough, her wandering around on the bed is also enough to stir him.
Junhui also learns that Minghao likes to cuddle up to him. A lot. It came as a surprise at first but Junhui eventually got used to it.
What Junhui isn’t quite used to yet is his heart clamoring around in his chest whenever Minghao does something like this. He’d like to say that since they started dating, not much between them has changed: Minghao still comes over on Fridays and they (usually) have sex, but that’s as far as it goes.
While Minghao still takes a bit too much joy in driving Junhui crazy, working his body up until Junhui says exactly what Minghao wants (usually some variation of please and Minghao — and maybe Junhui can also be a brat for purposely not saying whatever it is), there’s also a lot more hand-holding and soft kisses throughout. Completely contrary to their initial arrangement. Not that Junhui’s still going to hold him to that.
Before Junhui can continue his train of midnight thoughts, he catches Byuli staring at him from the end of the bed. It feels almost as if she could read his thoughts and wants to remind him to go back to sleep.
Careful to not disrupt Minghao, Junhui leans his head against him and closes his eyes. When he peeks one eye open to check on her, just in case, Byuli has curled back into her own sleeping position.
With Minghao’s even breathing steadily against him, Junhui drifts back to sleep, thoughts silencing.
+++
Junhui doesn’t remember exactly when Minghao started staying over regularly, at least in terms of how far into their relationship. He just remembers too many mornings in a row waking up with Minghao beside him, all blurring together until Junhui can’t discern which week was which.
On a particular one, he remembers Minghao, dressed in his typical dark robe, leaning against his kitchen counter cradling a small cup of tea before bringing it to his lips, quietly waiting for Junhui to finish cooking, like he usually did.
What set this apart from the rest was how, after he set aside his pan, Junhui turned to Minghao and blurted out, “What do you think of staying over every week? Like, officially?”
It wasn’t completely out of nowhere; the thought had been swimming around Junhui’s head for a while. Minghao had been staying over week by week anyway— Junhui figured that all they’d be doing is just giving some sort of semblance of a name and expectation to it. Another item in their growing list of routines.
These also conveniently served as the reasons he prepared to give in case Minghao tried to argue. (In addition to the fluttering feeling in Junhui’s chest that grew whenever he saw Minghao beside him upon waking up that he just wanted to hold onto. Junhui didn’t know how to explain it but he would try if Minghao asked.)
Minghao paused mid-sip, drawing the cup away from his lips and his features softened. “Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he said. “I was going to tell you I needed to bring some products into the washroom anyway. I don’t think your toner works for me. When we go shopping later, I’ll show you.”
If Junhui wasn’t handling kitchen utensils at the time, he would’ve hid his face in his hands to prevent Minghao from seeing the heat that worked up his face. (Minghao saw and giggled anyway.)
Shopping together was another growing routine.
Junhui thinks it started when he came out of the shower a previous Saturday morning to find Minghao in the kitchen pouring his tea into a gaudy cat-print mug he’d bought with Wonwoo a few years back. Junhui didn’t really mind Minghao borrowing his things while he was here, but he was embarrassed that Minghao found his corny mug and felt he couldn’t find anything else for his tea.
“Do you uh,” he asked from the doorway, catching Minghao’s attention, “do you want to go buy some teacups? That you could have here? For when you” —he gestured toward the pot and the mug Minghao started sipping at— “make your tea. We can go after I eat. You can pick something out, I think I saw a store that sells them near where I usually get groceries.”
Minghao had replied with a fluttering of lashes and widened eyes, mug dropping from his face. When his face relaxed, he smiled and said, “Yeah, okay. If you’re sure.”
Junhui was more than sure. He let Minghao pick out his tea cup set, a traditional yixing zisha teapot and cups with ridges in a clay brown color. It was a little plain for Junhui’s tastes —Junhui was drawn to a set of patterned porcelain ones similar to the ones his mother used to have— but when he saw Minghao’s excitedly lit-up expression as he lifted his new purchase off the cashier counter and followed Junhui out of the store, Junhui started mentally calculating what he would need to move around in his cupboards to accommodate the clay brown set.
They were the same calculations Junhui did when they came back from shopping the week Junhui asked Minghao to stay over regularly. Only this time it was with toner and other Minghao-related facial products on his bathroom counters.
Generally, moving his things around is cumbersome, the tetris of arranging and accommodating all his items in a satisfying way also becomes time-consuming.
But throughout the rest of the week, after Minghao had gone home, Junhui would spot Minghao’s LINE headband draped over his toner and a different feeling would blossom in his heart. One that makes the effort of rearranging worth it and the ache of Minghao’s absence hurt a little less each time he sees it.
+++
Junhui wakes up Saturday morning to an empty bed. Which is strange. The door is open and Junhui figures that means—
“Byuli woke me up,” Minghao’s voice rings in. He’s standing in the washroom doorway, dressed in his robe, LINE character headband drawing back his hair and putting product on his cheeks (essence or serum, Junhui can’t tell which step he’s on). Junhui knows this means that Minghao has already brushed his teeth though; Minghao only cleans his face after brushing his teeth and having his tea. He must have been up for a good while. “She’ll probably look for you to clean her litter box soon but I thought I should let you sleep.” After last night goes unsaid.
“Thanks,” Junhui grunts, swinging his legs out of bed before Minghao reminds him of exactly what they did last night. He trudges his way towards where his own robe is draped over the laundry basket and slips it on. He’s tying the sash around his waist when he realizes something, turning in the direction of the washroom. “She didn’t sit on you, did she? When she woke you up?”
Minghao’s eyes widen. “Uh, no. She just poked my face,” he says, drifting back to the mirror. Junhui hears product containers shuffling before Minghao reemerges, patting another product into his forehead.
Junhui sighs, heading out of the room. “Oh, but I told her not to bug you though,” he mutters, mostly to himself.
“Junhui, it’s fine!” Minghao calls from behind him.
As he heads to the small room where Byuli’s litter box is still stored, he makes small mewling sounds. When he does find her, she’s just leaving her litter bin and meows upon seeing him. Junhui drops to the floor, onto his stomach, so he can see her and imitates her meow back at her.
Byuli seems confused on whether to wander past him. When Junhui mewls again, she presses the top of her head against his bicep.
Junhui reaches to pet her with his other hand. “I’ll clean up your mess in a bit, Byuli-yah. Next time, wake me up instead of Minghao, alright?”
Byuli doesn’t reply, other than rubbing her head a bit more against him. Suddenly, her tail perks up and she eagerly trots away to something behind him. Junhui swivels his neck around to find Minghao standing there, already dressed to go out, amused and arranging random strands of his hair.
“You’re meowing at her?” he asks in what sounds like half-giggly disbelief, just as Byuli siddles up to his leg. She rubs herself along it, likely just to mark her scent on him, and wanders away again.
“Yes. How else is she going to understand me?” Junhui asks with a grin, springing to his feet.
Minghao sighs, adjusting his watch strap. “I don’t mind if she wakes me up, Junhui,” he says, sincerely. “It’s nice, it means she still likes me, right?”
Junhui gets out a plastic bag and moves towards the litter bin. “But I mind,” he replies vaguely, hands going through the motions of cleaning Byuli’s mess. Grab whatever you want to eat. I’ll change and brush and be right there, then we’ll go, he prepares to say. It’s how their mornings usually go. He glances up to see if Minghao is already in the kitchen but he’s in the same spot, still watching Junhui.
Minghao makes a face. “You mind if she likes me?” he asks. The smirk dancing on his lips lets Junhui know he’s teasing but Junhui can also tell there’s a hint of worry in there.
He shakes his head, finishing up with Byuli’s bin and standing up. “Not that. I mind if I wake up and you’re not there too. Byuli shouldn’t wake you up.”
Somehow, Minghao laughs again, holding his hand out expectantly. He looks like he’s about to say something, maybe comment on how Minghao technically only sleeps over once a week so Junhui would be used to the rest of the week waking up without him. But Minghao doesn’t voice Junhui’s worry, instead he puts his other hand on Junhui’s shoulder and says, “Next time if she wakes me up, I’ll wake you up then. Then we’ll both deal with her.”
Junhui beams, placing the bag of Byuli’s litter into Minghao’s hand. “Better.”
With a pat to his shoulder, Minghao leans forward for a kiss. “Okay. I’ll go toss this out, you get changed and then we’ll go?”
Junhui looks down at himself. He’s still in his robe and Minghao is already changed, skinny jeans and oversized t-shirt over a thin long-sleeved shirt and all. “Sure.”
He rushes back to the bedroom, tosses on a large white t-shirt, half tucks it into some basic jeans and rushes out. By the time he gets there, Minghao has put sunglasses on and nags Junhui about sunscreen before they go. Junhui acquiesces, lets Minghao smear sunscreen over his face and calls out to Byuli before they leave.
+++
For the most part, their grocery trip goes as it usually does. Junhui drives the cart throughout the produce section, consulting Minghao on dishes he’d want while he checks his phone and tosses whatever vegetables he needs in.
Minghao excuses himself and wanders to another part of the store while Junhui searches through the fruits. Eventually he finds the stand he’s looking for and grabs one of the produce bags.
“You’re going to be used for zest,” Junhui says to the lemon, placing it in the bag. “You’re going to be used for juice, you’re going to be turned into snacks, and you’re going in Minghao’s tea.” He places three more lemons in, one at a time. As he’s tying the knot on the plastic, he sees Minghao standing by the cart, putting in a bundle of towels.
He still looks like he’s going to laugh.
“I have to let them know their fate!” Junhui protests, placing the bag of lemons in the child’s seat.
Minghao hums. “I didn’t say anything. I just think it’s cute.”
Junhui pats both of his cheeks to test how warm they are. Pretty warm. “What are the towels for?” he asks, leading the cart away.
“For the next time we” —he quickly glances around— “ y’know. So it’s easier to clean up the sheets and stuff,” Minghao says, clamping onto Junhui’s arm. “They’re the fluffy kind.”
Junhui looks back and forth between Minghao and the towels in the cart, idly pushing along. His mind travels to a previous night, of Minghao thrusting into him, hands planted around Junhui’s head, of Junhui whining for Minghao to come inside me—please, of Minghao’s rushed are you sure, of Junhui’s irritation until Minghao complied, of Minghao rushing off to get a towel Junhui lay in the aftermath, the evidence of his request dribbling out of his ass. “Oh,” he manages, throat going dry.
Minghao pats his arm. “Down, boy,” he says, leading Junhui to push the cart towards the display of spices. He makes a show of casually reading the labels on the backs of some while Junhui waits.
A small girl in a yellow sundress races by, being chased by what Junhui assumes is her brother, full of cackling and tiny stomps.
Minghao also giggles as they pass, glancing back at Junhui before putting a jar of cloves back on the shelf. “Not in front of the kids,” he adds with a wry smile.
The words thump around in Junhui’s chest. For a second, he makes a face, then nods towards the spices Minghao was eyeing. “What are you looking for?” What do you want me to make?
Minghao shakes his head in dismissal. “Just browsing. I was trying to see if I recognized any from your shelves in case you were running out.” He shrugs. “But I figure you would know what you were running out of, huh?”
Junhui looks at his cart. There’s a bottle of oyster sauce and a container of peppercorn sitting next to the packages of meat, vegetable bags, and packets of cat food. “Yeah. But that’s okay.” He twists his hands along the cart handle. “You can get some stuff for your tea— if you want.”
Minghao blinks a few times. “Besides the lemon you got me?”
Junhui nods and gestures for Minghao to lead the way so he can follow with his cart. Minghao seems to have a slightly different plan, looping his arm back around Junhui’s and leading him to the aisle of tea and spice wares.
As Minghao stops in front of a shelf filled with different tea leaves and brands and talks through some of his thoughts out loud, Junhui wonders how he could ever get used to shopping alone again.
When they arrive home, Minghao helps Junhui unpack the groceries, rushing off to toss the towels in the laundry, but not without reminding Junhui what they’re for and not to put them in the kitchen. He arranges his tea accessories on his own, leaving them near his set and Junhui can tell he’s a bit conscious of how much space he’s taking up in Junhui’s apartment. Junhui is ready to say he doesn’t mind, but only if Minghao speaks first.
He doesn’t.
Junhui prepares a small lunch of suān là fěn with the vegetables bought, along with some pork. Minghao sits on the sofa, waiting as always. He’s usually sketching in his notebook for work or doing something else work-related. Having seemingly gotten used to this by now, Byuli somehow always ends up asleep on Minghao’s lap as he does whatever it is— this time she only rests her head on him but from where Junhui’s standing, she looks far too content and comfortable. Minghao only shifts a little to not disturb her.
Unfortunately for her, Junhui does have to disturb her, bringing over the food for the both of them about forty minutes later. She dashes away, settling in one of the beds of her cat tree.
As Minghao tucks his work book away, Junhui’s heart swells and settles into a calm of its own. It had taken Junhui a few weeks to get Minghao to stop working so much and to let himself actually eat and rest, so he did find himself relieved whenever Minghao listened. Even without Junhui nudging him.
The hobby Minghao seemed to have picked up instead was watching movies and period dramas. (“I swear I’m not looking at just their clothes, Junhui, it’s the story! ” Minghao insisted.) To his credit, Minghao usually does get engrossed in the story of whichever movie or drama piece that happened to strike his fancy that day. Junhui doesn’t mind, he thinks it’s neat seeing how much Minghao enjoys them and he usually ends up finding refuge on Junhui’s shoulder at some point throughout the viewing after eating.
When it ends, Minghao always ends up absorbing the story into his soul and Junhui’s learned that the best way to deal with it is to start kissing under his ear as a distraction, or to just go along with it and let Minghao sit with the movie until he feels better.
This time, the first option wins and Minghao goes along with the slightly clumsy making out where Junhui is still able to taste the hot sour soup on Minghao’s lips. In the midst of this, when Junhui is far beyond keeping track of the number of hot sour soup kisses they’ve exchanged, Minghao saddles a leg over Junhui’s lap and settles there.
His hand is still sitting at Junhui’s jaw as he stares down, breathing in Junhui’s equally gross air. Junhui’s thoughts are a scattered mess, hands roaming aimlessly around whatever of Minghao they can. He thinks Minghao’s checking for something but Junhui isn’t sure what.
It’s only a beat that feels far too long before Minghao surges forward again, reconnecting their lips in another round of messy, giddy kisses. Junhui should be used to it, separating the giddy kisses from the outright hungry ones, but he finds himself getting lost regardless.
One of Minghao’s hands slides along Junhui’s shoulder, accompanied by a small noise and a few forward rolls of the hips into Junhui’s lap. Junhui breaks the kiss with a moan, his hands shooting to Minghao’s thighs. He’s not sure why he did that, although part of him says that he knows they can’t get into it much right now.
So Junhui meets his eyes and smiles apologetically. The skin of Minghao’s hands feel cold as they cup Junhui’s cheeks, and Junhui can’t tell if it’s just because his face has started flushing up or if that’s just how Minghao’s hands usually are. In case it’s the former, Junhui presses his forehead against Minghao’s sternum to prevent his boyfriend from seeing just how embarrassed he suddenly is, especially when he doesn’t even know why, and loops his arms around Minghao’s waist.
What Junhui hears, however, is Minghao’s own heart racing around his ears too. Minghao’s hands settle on patting the back of Junhui’s head with a giggle.
There’s another fluttering spreading through his own chest, the one that fills him with giddy energy and wants to cling onto Minghao whenever he’s near him, the one that Junhui recognizes as the butterflies Soonyoung told him about. The ones that tell him he likes Minghao. He just didn’t know how much.
When evening rolls around, just as the sun starts setting and painting the sky a muted orange from the window, Junhui walks Minghao to the entryway, hands linked. Predictably, Byuli has scurried up behind them. She sits at Junhui’s feet, tail swishing.
Once Minghao gets his shoes on, Junhui lurches forward, seeking out one last quick kiss before he goes, which soon turns into two, three, four—
Minghao pulls away before the fifth one, pushing his hair back from his forehead. “Okay, wait, no, Junhui. I really have to go,” he says, giggling. It’s bubbly and airy, almost amused as he picks up his bag from the door.
“I know,” Junhui replies with his own fluster working to his cheeks. He reaches for Minghao’s hand again, even as Minghao is moving away towards the door. He makes the split-second decision to not bring that to his lips too.
“I’ll see you next week,” Minghao offers. Junhui would like to think it’s because Minghao has clearly established himself as the rational one between them, even if, as he’s tugging his hand away from Junhui, he also lingers.
Junhui nods. “Okay.”
Minghao finally does let his hand fall out of Junhui’s and he slips behind the door. “I’ll text you,” he says, to which Byuli meows from Junhui’s ankle. “You too,” he adds with a giggle.
The door finally closes and Junhui hates the empty feeling growing in his chest. If it could, Junhui imagines his heart would form a hand and reach out to the door and pull Minghao back.
I miss him already.
Junhui turns back towards his apartment with a dramatic sigh, reaching down to scoop Byuli up in his arms. “Okay, now I get why you used to scream before,” he mutters to her, pressing his cheek to her head.
Byuli mewls again, pawing at his chest as he carries her off toward the kitchen for snacks.
+++
Junhui isn’t sure which Saturday it was where, after their grocery trip, Minghao had proposed that they go on an additional shopping date.
And by shopping date, Minghao meant dragging him to clothing stores where he could hold up various shirts and long coats against him before tugging him through some more aisles.
“Is all this really necessary?” Junhui asked, glancing down at the grey trench coat Minghao was holding against his chest this time.
Minghao raked his eyes up and down between Junhui’s face and the end of the coat. “I just want to get a good look at styles that would look nice on you,” he replied with an oddly serene smile, like he was barely containing excitement. “It’d be a crime not to do anything with your shoulders, don’t you think?” He floated back to the clothing racks without waiting for Junhui’s comment of exactly what Minghao does with Junhui’s shoulders. Junhui briefly wondered if messing with clothes like this was one of the things that made Minghao happiest.
That day, Minghao did end up picking up a few things, some of which looked confusing in isolation but he assured Junhui that they’d make a good ensemble when everything came together. Junhui thought that the last time he’d seen something like this was when Tzuyu had coerced him into shopping with her, for almost the same reasons.
They returned to Junhui’s apartment that day with one of the long coats and what Minghao called a ‘statement belt’ for Junhui’s closet.
The following Friday, Minghao had arrived at Junhui’s apartment with a measuring tape, which he apparently borrowed from work and decided to put to good use. Junhui relented and let Minghao position him however he wanted, partially because it seemed like Minghao had really thought about this for a good while and partially because Junhui couldn’t resist when he saw how brightly Minghao’s eyes were lighting up as he moved the measuring tape around and then jotted into his notebook after.
“I’m totally not judging but why are you doing that?” Junhui asked, putting his arms down at last.
Minghao was still scribbling in his notebook, flipping through some pages. “You’re making food so I’m making clothes,” he replied, tapping the end of his pen against his lips.
“You weren’t happy with anything we saw at the store?”
“Some of them were nice but… I just want to do this. As a fun little project,” Minghao said. “You make food even though we can buy some too.”
Junhui grinned at Byuli, sitting in a pleasant loaf under the kitchen chair. “Hear that, Byul-ah? We’re a cute little power couple, huh?” he called over Minghao’s shoulder.
Minghao giggled in response, pushing against Junhui’s arm. Byuli only swished her tail.
That Monday, Minghao had shown up at the restaurant during lunch with his book of material samples and his notebook. Junhui used his break to meet Minghao out on the street curb. Luckily, late June on a Monday wasn’t too busy.
“Don’t think it’s weird, okay?” Minghao asked, face flushing up as soon as Junhui started opening the book.
“Why would it be weird?” Junhui asked in return, fingers moving toward the sticky-tabbed page Minghao likely left for him.
Minghao shifted his weight between the balls of his feet. “I— I drew some of those before we started dating so…. I liked you for a while, remember?” He shifted closer to Junhui then, once again hiding his face in the crook of Junhui’s neck. He only peeked to see which page of the notebook Junhui was looking at.
Junhui flipped through the book, each page with drawings of a faceless model in various clothes sketches and poses before the faces started getting more and more defined and started to look more and more like him. It made sense, the more recent the drawing, the more detail Minghao would probably put into it, even if he didn’t really need to focus on the face.
With each page, he started realizing that was the first time he felt like he was really knowing Minghao, being able to see into his notebook, this part of him, like this.
“I liked being able to express myself through how I designed pieces,” Minghao said to him once, back in the throes of their arrangement, before they started dating. “Being able to sketch out what I want and how I felt. There was something about putting it to paper, feeling the movement under my hand, seeing it in ink and then coming to life in cloth and being real.”
Junhui wondered if this is what he meant, and felt a bit selfish. I want to know more. I want to know everything.
At the final marked page, Junhui saw a sketch (of a lithe lanky body that is possibly too slender to be his own) in a robe, followed by closeup details of the pockets and rims and cuffs and stitching.
Then, with bright pink ears, Minghao nudged the material sample book toward him and asked him to pick which one he liked best.
Weeks later, Minghao came by with a large paper bag dangling from his wrist and told Junhui to open it.
While Junhui was cautious (because the last time he opened something from a paper bag given by Minghao, it ended up starting… things) , he reached in and pulled out a white robe, made out of the material he’d seen in Minghao’s book. He pinched it by the shoulders as he pulled it up, holding it against himself. There was still another one inside, if Byuli coming over to sniff at it was any indication. He peered inside and sure enough, there was a black robe in a similar design.
“Just stay here. I’ll get you a bathrobe from work if you don’t leave.”
“You guys have bathrobes at your work?”
“I’ll design you one.”
“You’d design me a robe instead of letting me get you water?”
“...Yes.”
Junhui looked up. “You got us matching sex robes?”
Minghao clicked his tongue, pulling out the second robe. “They don’t just have to be for sex, geez,” he said, neatly draping it over his arm. “But yes, mainly. What am I supposed to wear after my showers, Junhui?”
“I told you you could just keep borrowing my clothes,” Junhui chuckled, rubbing the fabric between his fingers. It was fancy, light and pleasant despite smelling like box. “But this isn’t the fluffy bathrobe type,” he commented, biting back a grin.
Minghao sighed, reaching down to collect the paper bag before Byuli could try crawling into it. “The fluffy bathrobes are more costly to make. The material is trickier to get for us and I think I would run out of favors from Chenle if I tried. I wouldn’t know how to explain it to him. We’ll just buy those if you prefer.”
Junhui started giggling. “I’m kidding, I love these,” he said, hugging it against himself and does a spin for good measure. Junhui thought it must look pretty good because Minghao’s face started flushing up slightly and scrunching in embarrassment. “You really do like me, huh?” The words were soft, dancing on the edges of his lips the way they were skipping around Junhui’s heart. A weird observation to point out, surely.
Minghao seemed to have caught himself, eyes fluttering. “What?”
“You’re talking about how you’re going to make sure I get a fancy fluffy robe just because I complained a little about this one. Not to mention you actually went and made me a robe when I thought you were joking before,” Junhui explained with another giggle, mostly to mask his embarrassment. “You’re really good to me.”
Huffing, Minghao reached down to scoop Byuli up in his arms. “Well! Of course if you want something, I’m going to want to get it for you. Dumbass,” he said, bouncing Byuli around a bit before grabbing one of her paws. “Shut up, or I’ll have Byuli attack you,” he continued, the tone holding no real bite despite trying to wave Byuli’s paw at him.
Junhui held his hand out to her cheek. “Byuli won’t attack me,” he said, cupping her face in his hand. “She loves you but she’s smart enough to know where her food comes from.”
When Junhui looked up for a response, Minghao’s face looked even more pink than before, the color spreading to his ears. Although Junhui wanted to say it might be because Minghao’s threat fell flat, the racing in his chest tells him it might have been pointing to something else.
Junhui remembers that day specifically because that was when, after Minghao had gone home and Junhui was tidying up, he felt the thudding in his chest and thought to himself:
Meals without him now are just not going to be as good, are they?
When he thinks about it now, Junhui wonders if that was the first time he noticed the shift in his heart like that.
+++
“Soonyoungie, I think something’s wrong,” Junhui admits, fidgeting with his sleeve.
It’s Sunday afternoon. He and Soonyoung have been lounging on Junhui’s sofa for the past hour or so— Junhui had been failing to focus on the words of his ebook novel while Soonyoung had (supposedly) been watching dance videos on his phone, although Junhui can tell he’s been distracted.
Soonyoung has been coming to visit more often lately. After his dance showcase was over (a week after Junhui and Minghao had first officially started dating), Soonyoung was able to drop by more regularly although he still did go to the dance rooms for lessons and practice. Junhui suspects that the increase of Soonyoung visits is likely due to Wonwoo expressing enough worry over Soonyoung’s physical health in practicing too much so Soonyoung holds back to appease him. And Wonwoo being… preoccupied at the moment. Otherwise, Junhui is sure Soonyoung would be hanging out with him far more often instead.
Junhui also couldn’t find a good excuse for him to keep Minghao from Soonyoung for too long. Soonyoung was the main reason Junhui was able to just go for it with Minghao, after all. When Junhui told him —while also framing it as taking Soonyoung’s advice, to Wonwoo smirk-filled eye roll— Soonyoung’s excitedly sparkling eyes softened, corners of his lips poking up fondly before he said, “That’s really great, Junnie. I hope it goes well with him.”
To both Junhui and Wonwoo’s surprise, Soonyoung left it alone after that, despite how much the pair knew how much of a soft mess Soonyoung was for hearing other people’s “getting together” stories. After a beat, Wonwoo turned to Junhui and said it was nothing to worry about.
However, in the recent growing instances of Wonwoo disappearing for various reasons, Soonyoung had been the one bearing the brunt of Junhui's Minghao-related concerns and nervousness. And Soonyoung seemed to like cooing over Junhui whenever he did, even if he still seemed fidgety. Junhui wonders if Soonyoung was back to cooing over other people’s love lives or it’s just that Junhui now has a boyfriend.
On the other end of the sofa, Soonyoung frowns, eyes welling in concern. “Wrong? What is it?”
Junhui pouts in return. “Myungho. Well, not him. I mean, wrong with me but it’s about Myungho,” he fumbles out. Soonyoung puts his phone aside and Junhui tries to start over. “Well, it’s just— I don’t know, it’s weird. I’ve been feeling sort of weird with him lately. I think about him all the time, even when I’m doing something completely different and he’s not even around. I thought I got over that early on when we started dating. But then! When he left yesterday, I already started to miss him even before the door closed” —Byuli mewls from her perch in her tree— “is that weird?”
Soonyoung tilts his head. “What do you mean, weird?”
“Like, I don’t know, I thought that’d be weird.” Junhui covers his face with his hands. “I feel like I’m going crazy. It doesn’t feel normal.”
“Does it feel bad?”
Junhui hums. “No? Sort of? I can’t tell. It’s like a rushing and fluttering sort of thing. All the time. I thought it would go away since we were dating for a while but this feels worse.” His hands start flapping about before he hides his face behind them again. After a few seconds of Soonyoung not saying anything, Junhui peeks between his fingers.
Soonyoung’s expression looks contemplative, almost worried for a second before it melts into a serene smile. Junhui doesn’t think he’s quite seen it before.
“Soonyoungie?”
Like a switch, Soonyoung’s expression flips, turning serious. “Oh. I was just thinking of something,” he says with a quick wave of a dismissive hand. “But also about what Wonwoo would say about this. I don’t want to say too much and I know he’ll get grumpy at me if I do.”
Junhui scoffs low in his throat, folding his arms over his chest and turning away. “Staying quiet is exactly what Wonwoo would do.”
Soonyoung shifts closer regardless, hugging Junhui close to him before saying. “But I’m so proud of you!” in a cooing tone, which leaves Junhui even more confused. “It’s a good thing, I promise. You’re not going crazy, you’re fine.” Before long, Soonyoung is patting Junhui’s head and arranging his hair. Junhui figures it’s best to let him get it out of his system when he’s like this.
When Soonyoung’s hands suddenly stop, Junhui checks on his expression; Soonyoung now looks sullen, serious and possibly distracted. “Soonyoungie? Is everything okay?”
Instinctively, Soonyoung lets him go. “Yeah. Yeah, sorry. I just started thinking about something,” he says, swiping his hands through his bangs an anxious number of times. “I think Wonwoo’s been hiding something from me lately. We both agreed not to vent to you too much about our relationship stuff since we don’t want to put you in the middle but I guess— I don’t know, I’m worried? I’m not really sure what else to do right now.”
Something heavy drops in the pit of Junhui’s gut. “What’s going on, what is it?”
“He hasn’t been talking to me much lately so I was just hoping that maybe he’d been talking to you— like if something was going on with him,” Soonyoung starts, shaky and uneven. “Junnie, you’d tell me if Wonu was cheating on me, right?” He suddenly grabs both of Junhui’s hands, tone more firm and serious.
“What?!” Junhui chokes out. “Soonyoungie, that’s a ridiculous question. Of course I would tell you! After I tore Wonwoo apart first. But he wouldn’t do that to you!”
It only alleviates some of the worry from Soonyoung’s face. “Aw, thanks, Junnie, you’re the best!” He breathes out a heavy sigh of relief, pulling him in for another hug. “So you know for sure he’s definitely not cheating on me, right?”
“He’s definitely not,” Junhui states with a reassuring nod. “Why would you think that? Unless you count the whole thing with Yuhwa.”
Soonyoung pouts, pulling away. “I’m not allowed to count Yuhwa. It’s just… he’s been kind of strange lately.”
“Strange?” Junhui echoes.
“He has a weird look on his face when he sees me— the one he gets when he thinks he’s done something wrong and can’t talk to me. And he gets all distant and starts shuffling away from me and retreats to his room. It doesn’t feel like him and my mind wandered to it when you were talking about Myungho just now. I thought he’d be happy now that my schedule has cleared up a bit but he’s been weird,” Soonyoung recounts, looking guilty himself for even bringing it up. “I was just wondering if he’s said anything to you. ”
Junhui shakes his head and squeezes Soonyoung’s hands. “As far as I know, Wonwoo is fine. He’s just overwhelmed with some things right now.” It’s half a lie but he still doesn’t like lying to Soonyoung, even by omission.
Soonyoung doesn’t look convinced, expression still sullen and frowning and Junhui’s heart aches. He remembers being in a similar position with Minghao months before, right before they officially got together. The worry and uncertainty and Junhui doesn’t have a doubt that Soonyoung secretly thinks he’s done something wrong. Maybe it’s not exactly the same but it’s close.
He clasps Soonyoung’s hands together and holds them near his chest. “When I first asked Wonwoo to babysit for Byuli, he told me that he didn’t think he’d ever get his own cat, at least not for a while. Your schedule was so busy and unpredictable and he didn’t want to raise one without you. But Wonwoo said he was fine with that because he’d rather have no cat than have one that he couldn’t raise with you together.”
Soonyoung’s frown deepens. “He never told me that.”
Junhui shakes his head again, hoping to dissuade any strange thoughts Soonyoung might be conjuring. “He probably didn’t want to worry you or make it sound like he was blaming you for anything,” he replies, brushing his thumbs along the back of Soonyoung’s hands. “The point of me telling you this is just that… Wonwoo understands, Soonyoungie. Whatever happens, he’s happy with you and if he wasn’t, he’d tell you. All he does is think about you, he was so insufferable when you were gone, believe me.” He wiggles their joined hands a bit, hoping to ease the tension. “He loves you.” Nothing’s wrong.
The words don’t quite have the intended effect. Soonyoung still looks discontent, eyes drifting back towards the napping Byuli.
+++
Wonwoo isn’t cheating on Soonyoung.
And Junhui knows why Soonyoung would say Wonwoo’s been acting strange.
It happened a few weeks ago. Wonwoo had come over, unannounced and somewhat unroutine. Luckily, Minghao had already left for the evening and Junhui almost spilled out his relationship state to his best friend out of sheer glee, but stopped after noticing the stunned and shyly elated look on his face.
“Wonwoo? What’s up?” Junhui asked, somewhat cautious and ushering Wonwoo over to his sofa.
Wonwoo complied, barely paying any mind to the lazing Byuli who only lifted her head in acknowledgement from her star-shaped plush bed next to the sofa.
As Wonwoo sat down, Junhui noticed the piece of paper he was holding. It seemed important: Wonwoo only looked away from it to stare at Byuli for a bit, holding his hand near her to see if he’d get a reaction. Byuli put her forehead against it. Junhui took a seat next to Wonwoo, waiting for him to speak first but Wonwoo was back to staring dazedly at the piece of paper that Junhui tried really hard not to peak at.
“I’m going to marry him,” Wonwoo said softly. His tone was low and serious enough that Junhui wondered if Wonwoo knew he said that out loud, if he meant to or if it was a wandering thought that couldn’t stay out of his head. But Wonwoo looked up, showing the paper to Junhui.
The paper was a profile of sorts. It had a picture of a black short hair kitten paperclipped at the top, followed by basic information like height, weight, breed, likes and dislikes, some of which was filled out by Soonyoung’s handwriting.
Name: Jeon Yuhwa
Name of owners: Jeon Wonwoo, Kwon Soonyoung
Form completed by: Kwon Soonyoung
Registration papers.
Junhui scanned it over a couple of times, trying to make sure he pieced all the information together before he addressed Wonwoo again. “Wonwoo-yah, I’m pretty sure that’s illegal. I know you love cats and all but that’s possibly frowned upon in some—” was all he managed to get out before Wonwoo shoved him over, laughing.
“Not Yuhwa!” Wonwoo protested, looking embarrassed as he turned the paper back to himself to scan it over again. “I mean Soonyoung. I’m going to marry Soonyoungie.” It came out in a low whisper, almost as if it had been compressed deep somewhere for far too long. Wonwoo looked particularly flustered, face scrunching up. Junhui recognized it from when he happened to be around the two of them being grossly cute with each other.
But there was a look in Wonwoo’s eye this time and Junhui could just somehow tell that this was different. He was serious. And relieved. Junhui could only respond with a simple nod of acknowledgement, eyes fluttering in blinks.
Wonwoo frowned, expression filled with concern. “You’re not saying anything.”
Junhui shifted on the sofa, angling himself toward Wonwoo and draping his arm over the back. “Well, you guys basically act like a married couple already and I sort of figured that you would end up marrying him eventually anyway,” he admitted, to which Wonwoo only responded with minute nods. “But I guess my question would be whether you and Soonyoungie have already talked about it before. Does he know?”
“Yeah. Casually? On and off.” Wonwoo suddenly sighed, unusually heavy, at least from what Junhui had come to know. “It comes up sometimes when we watch dramas or any movie that makes him cry but— Well, we both know we’re going to marry each other at some point in our lives but we’ve both been so busy lately and haven’t been able to talk about it more seriously since. Like when or how we wanna do it and everything. Remember that day you were asking about Myungho and Soonie ran off after talking about a cat? I got him to tell me what he meant. He said for a while, there was this cat he was planning on getting for me because he said I’d been so patient with him lately and supporting his dancing and he—” Wonwoo sniffled. “Anyway, he was a blubbering mess,” he added with a fond smile.
Junhui could only pat Wonwoo’s knee, having decided not to poke at the hole there.
“I told him I would’ve done all that anyway and some other mushy stuff you don’t wanna hear. But I also told him that I don’t need a cat—”
Junhui scoffed, glancing at the curled up, napping Byuli in her bed.
Wonwoo chuckled in return, shoulder-shoving him before putting his hand over Junhui’s. “But Soonyoungie insisted that he wants me to have a cat because he knows how much I like them,” Wonwoo muttered, also craning his neck to look at Byuli. “And I can’t keep trying to pseudo-own Byuli since that’s not fair to you or any of us. Soonie also might’ve also said that Myungho has more of a right to that over me but that’s his opinion. ”
Junhui suddenly erupted into a coughing laugh. He took his time to wipe his mouth before meeting Wonwoo’s stern expression. “It’s also mine and Byuli’s opinion, which I think matters more here. And yes, Soonyoungie is absolutely right.”
Wonwoo rolled his eyes. “Whatever,” he droned with fondly crescent eyes, earning another playful shove. After a few seconds, Wonwoo’s expression turned serious again, likely caught up in another thought as he stared off again.
“So what are you going to do?” Junhui asked, gentle as he could.
“I’m going to ask him to marry me,” Wonwoo replied, face lighting up as he looked at Junhui again. “I can’t stop thinking about it so I know this is what I really want. But I have to get everything ready first. Like figure everything out, find a good time to talk to him and then talk to my parents and then Soonyoungie’s parents, drop hints, see if he’s okay with that conversation. Don’t tell him anything yet, though, okay? I wanna tell him myself and I want it to be when we’re both ready. I don’t want to spring it on him.”
Junhui felt his face scrunching. “What if Soonyoungie asks me things? About you? You want me to lie to him?”
Wonwoo quickly shook his head, tapping at Junhui’s hand. “Not directly lying, just make sure he doesn’t know what I’m planning. It might be hard but you have my blessing.”
Junhui made a small noise of discomfort. “To lie to your boyfriend? One of my other closest friends? That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
Wonwoo replied with a gentle “You’ll be fine,” and turned back to read over his registration paper again.
Junhui watched the fondly soft smile creep up onto Wonwoo’s face again, the emotion seeping from his eyes. Sure, dancing around Soonyoung would be hard, but with how much Junhui could tell this obviously meant to Wonwoo, he figured he could do it.
He looped his arm around Wonwoo’s, hugged it to himself, and leaned his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder. “Congratulations. I’m really happy for you guys,” he mumbled. As excited as he was for them, he couldn’t begin to imagine what it was like for Wonwoo. It’s going to be real.