Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taeyong was curled against the trunk of the old tree by the river, straddling the longest branch, close to dozing off in the summer heat, when he heard a sound that didn’t belong. He was alone there in the tree, far from the bridge where the other kids liked to swim, far from the nearest paved road with its occasional passing cars. The noises that belonged were only these: the gurgle of the tired river beneath his dangling feet, the drone of the cicadas in the branches above, buzzing flies, birdsong. His own slow and even breaths. He knew these sounds well, had fallen asleep to them on countless afternoons just like this one. His ears perked up immediately at the intrusion that, as he listened, became the unmistakable sound of a bike chain, an old one, ticking and clicking and getting closer.

Taeyong willed the bike to pass by. It didn’t. Instead the wheels skidded to a stop right below his tree. The brakes badly needed oil and the screech of them set Taeyong’s teeth on edge. He opened his eyes and looked down, and saw the boy.

It was a boy he’d never seen before, which was so surprising Taeyong wondered for a moment if he’d fallen asleep after all. If he was dreaming, it seemed entirely plausible his brain would supply him with this boy: tall, dark-haired, shirtless, straddling his bike with long legs. A gleam of sweat across his skin, a flush across his cheeks and shoulders from sun or exertion. He was smiling and didn’t seem at all surprised to see Taeyong up in the tree, which also suggested it may have been a dream. He had dimples. 

Despite the dimples, Taeyong decided the boy was not a figment of his heat-dazed imagination. Which made him an intruder. This was his tree, his stretch of river, one of the only places he could ever be totally alone. He’d lived in River’s Bend his entire life, and the town wasn’t large–quite the opposite. Everyone knew each other, constantly passing through each others’ houses, chatting for ages when they ran into each other in the street. He was related to nearly a third of the town by blood or by marriage, and the rest had simply been there for his entire seventeen years of existence, and long before that. His family ran the only grocery store in town, and had for generations. His parents grew up with the parents of the kids he went to school with, and their grandparents grew up together before that, and so on and so forth, since the beginning of human civilization, probably. This tree was the only place he had outside of all those endlessly overlapping circles of relationships, of gossip, of people.  

So the sweaty boy on the shitty bike was a problem. Taeyong stared down at him, and the boy grinned up. The grin was irritating, dimples or no. He was the outsider. He shouldn’t have looked so much like he belonged. 

“Who are you?” Taeyong finally said, then wanted to kick himself for being the first to break the silence. 

“I’m Jaehyun,” said the boy. Still grinning. He seemed to know Taeyong found it annoying. “Who are you?” 

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong said. 

The boy shrugged. “It’s hot, I was gonna swim.” 

“Swimming is down by the bridge.” Taeyong pointed downstream. 

“Guess I missed the bridge,” the boy said easily. 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. The boy had to have crossed the bridge to get to this side of the river, if he came from town, and he must have come from town, because there was nowhere else around to come from.

“Can I swim here?” the boy asked.

“Why are you asking me?” Taeyong said. He tried to sound bored. He probably sounded as bothered as he felt. 

The boy shrugged, then swung his leg over his bike, which he dropped on its side in the dust. He toed off his sneakers and peeled off his socks, leaving them sprawled in the dust where they fell. There was a stark line between his pale clean feet and his dusty shins. He picked his way down to the water’s edge, over the thick roots of Taeyong’s tree. 

“How deep is it here?” he asked, staring down at the water.

“Can’t you swim?” Taeyong watched the boy’s back, the way his shoulder blades shifted as he kept his balance on the uneven bank. There were dimples there too, just above the waistband of his shorts. 

“Yeah, I can swim. I just wanna know if I’ll split my head open when I jump in or not.” 

“You probably won’t,” Taeyong said. 

The boy turned suddenly, his grin even wider than before; he looked straight at Taeyong and jumped backwards, arms stretched above his head, his whole body reaching, airborne for a strangely long moment before he splashed into the water with a loud ungraceful slap, and disappeared under the surface. 

Taeyong could see him, blurred and faded below the water and the silt he stirred up. His shifting form glided slowly a little ways downstream on the lazy current. Taeyong determinedly refused to worry about how long he’d been under. The rippled water stilled and the cicadas seemed to hum louder in the silence. The boy floated fully out of the shade of the tree, distorted with the water flowing over him. Taeyong didn’t think he’d moved at all. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, glaring skyward for a moment, and then he swung himself off the branch, landing in an easy practiced crouch in the dust. 

No sooner had he straightened when there was a splash and a yell and the boy emerged from the water. Taeyong stared, relief quickly surpassed by an unpleasant blend of anger and embarrassment. The boy was grinning, still grinning, downright triumphant. Taeyong wanted to shake him and more than that he wanted to shake himself for being worried over this kid, this stranger , this idiot who seemed to think bringing himself to the brink of death by drowning was the most entertaining way to pass a summer afternoon. 

“You coming?” the boy called, swimming back upstream towards the tree and Taeyong. His arms stretched and gleamed above the water.

“Yeah right,” Taeyong muttered, already turning away. 

His own bike was carefully propped against the tree trunk, where the shiny red paint wouldn’t get too dusty and the seat wouldn’t heat up too much in the sun. He yanked it roughly past the bumpy roots to the smoother path that cut through the grass and eventually joined the road over the bridge back to town. 

“Suit yourself!” the boy yelled after him, his voice already thankfully fading as Taeyong pedaled hard. Soon the only noises were the cicadas again, and the flies, and the rush of Taeyong’s wheels in the dust, and his panting breaths. 

~~

Taeyong stayed away from the river for an entire week after that. He helped his parents–and his sister, and a handful of cousins–in the store; he rode his bike aimlessly through the streets; he let Doyoung convince him to go swimming at the bridge with the others; he went to a movie with a girl from his class because she asked him out at the store and he didn’t know how to say no with half his family watching. When he walked her home, he could tell she was hoping he’d kiss her, but he didn’t, and he must have been awkward or cold enough about it that she didn’t try to ask him out again. The whole week, he didn’t see the boy from the river anywhere. 

It wasn’t for lack of looking. Taeyong kept expecting him to come in to the store, kept thinking he’d see him biking down the middle of a quiet street at sundown. When he went swimming at the river he studied the kids clustered around the rail of the bridge, the ones brave enough to jump off. He scanned the seats in the dim movie theater. He ran into nearly every kid in town this way, or at least saw them from afar. But not the boy from the river. He began to wonder if maybe the boy really had biked all the way to Taeyong’s tree from somewhere else. There were some houses around, farms, on their own in their endless fields outside of town. He could have come from one of those, maybe. Or perhaps he really had been a dream. 

Taeyong woke early on Friday, restless. He rarely went so long in the summers without spending time at the river. He rarely went so long without spending time by himself. His family were up already, he could hear them making breakfast downstairs. They were always early risers, because of the store, but most other people wouldn’t be awake at this hour. Taeyong decided it was safe to visit the river again–it was impossible that the boy would be there. He probably hadn’t gone back at all. And if he had, and kept finding the place deserted, he probably hadn’t stuck around. Taeyong couldn’t imagine that a kid so determined to bother a stranger would enjoy spending much time by himself. He seemed the type to move fast and get bored faster, while the river was slow-moving and quiet.

Taeyong threw on his clothes and managed to slip out of the house without his parents dragging him to sit down for a full breakfast. The streets were empty and the sun was still low on the horizon, the shadows long behind him as he biked down the main road out of town. He passed the short stretch of shops and businesses, the movie theater with its two movies on the sign, both already months old, and the library and his family’s store, and then the last few houses before he went over the bridge and swerved off the road to follow the path along the river. There was a long stretch to go before he reached his tree, but he relished the distance. His thighs ached as he picked up speed, small pebbles sprayed up with the dust and stung his ankles. It felt good to leave the town behind and head toward a place where no one would come by chance. 

The sun was in front of him as he rode, and the tree emerged gradually out of the early brightness, its edges blazing. He pedaled harder, his breath coming in satisfying gasps, burning, his eyes watering from the sunrise and the wind. He found himself smiling, widely, wanting to laugh, wanting to hug something. The morning was so beautiful and he was all alone in it. 

He skidded to a stop at the base of the tree, propped his bike carefully against the trunk in its usual place. It had rained earlier in the week, and the river was a little less sluggish as it flowed past. The sun hit it at an angle and refracted in a million different directions, shining on the underside of the tree’s branches and leaves, and on his skin. He pulled off his shirt, his sneakers, then hesitated. But he was alone, the world seemed blissfully empty, this place was his. He took off the rest of his clothes. Goosebumps broke out on his arms. The air on his skin was a thrill. 

He folded his clothes and tucked them neatly into the crook of a branch, then crept to the river bank. Dead leaves and dirt and sticks and pebbles pressed in to the soles of his feet. His senses seemed incredibly alive. It had only been a week and yet it was like he was noticing all the textures on the ground and the shades of brown and green and blue in the river for the first time. He tested the water with one foot, lost himself staring at the shimmering reflections flowing over his toes. He stretched, and dove. 

The water enveloped him, cool and perfect. He came up and swam against the current, then let himself drift down, again and again. He floated and observed his tree from the water. It was majestic, he decided. The leaves hid most of the trunk at this time of year, but he found where he knew his branch was, and as he drifted a little further downstream it came fully into view, strong and wide and—

Taeyong’s stomach plummeted so violently he swallowed a mouthful of water. Someone was sitting on the branch. He was sitting on the branch. Taeyong wasn’t quite close enough to see his features clearly but he knew, he knew , it was him. The boy from the river.

Taeyong coughed and sputtered and had no idea what to do. His first thought was to hide. But there was nowhere to hide. The boy had definitely seen him already anyway, out in the sunny water. And must have seen his bike propped against the trunk. And his clothes. 

Taeyong ducked his head under water and swam down to the bottom of the river, wanting to scream. His clothes, all of them, on the branch just below where that boy was sitting. He did scream then, or groaned, as loud as he would allow himself, the sound strange in his own ears under the water. He had no idea how long the boy had been there. There had certainly been no sign of him when Taeyong arrived, but maybe he hadn’t looked closely enough. Maybe he’d been so enthralled by the morning light he hadn’t noticed the boy just behind him on the path or standing in the grass nearby, watching him. He had no idea how to get out of this. He wondered how far downstream he could get without the boy noticing. But that would just bring him closer to town and farther from his clothes. He had been such an idiot, to think any place could be his to claim. 

He held his breath as desperately long as he could, then kicked back up to the surface, his chest tight and aching. He was further from the tree now, but he could see the boy had not moved, still a dark smudge on the branch. He wondered if he could wait him out. Somehow he thought the promise of his humiliation would be enough motivation for the boy to stay in the tree all day.

Which meant it was better to just get this over with. He swam back upstream, slowly, keeping his body as low in the water as possible, scowling. The sunlight which had been so pretty before was now irritatingly bright and made his cheeks tired from squinting. He tried to ignore the sick nervous twisting of his stomach, but it only got worse as he reached the place where the tree’s roots reached the water’s edge and the boy came more clearly into view. 

He was leaning against the trunk, facing the water–facing Taeyong–with one leg up on the branch and one dangling down. He had a shirt on this time, and a baseball cap covered his black hair. Taeyong had expected to see his face so many times that past week and now that he was looking at him it looked slightly different than he remembered. But it was unmistakably the same boy. Taeyong grasped one of the roots to keep himself from drifting downstream again and glared up at him, uncertain, hoping the water hid him well enough. 

“How’s the water?” the boy called down. He was smiling. He never seemed to stop smiling. 

“Why the hell are you here?” Taeyong yelled back, unable to keep his voice calm. 

The boy tilted his head to the side. “Why are you here?” 

This is mine! Taeyong wanted to yell. But of course it wasn’t. 

The boy jumped down out of the branch, such a sudden shift from stillness to motion that Taeyong flinched in the water and bumped his cheek against the root he was clinging to. The wet bark scraped gently over his skin. The boy walked towards the water’s edge. 

“Looks nice,” he said, staring thoughtfully and a little too intently at the water’s surface. Taeyong curled his legs up. “Mind if I join?” 

“No,” Taeyong sputtered. “I mean yes, yes I mind. Don’t come in.” 

“Why not?” The boy smiled and blinked. 

Taeyong glared. “Look, I don’t know who you are, or what–”

“I told you. I’m Jaehyun,” said the boy. His dimples deepened in his cheeks. 

“Fine, okay, Jaehyun, great. I don’t know what your deal is, but can you please just let me get out and get dressed?” Taeyong’s face was burning even in the cool water. He had never been so embarrassed and having to acknowledge his predicament made everything worse.

“Of course you can get out,” Jaehyun said, spreading his arms. “I’d never dream of stopping you.” 

Taeyong sank further into the water. “You know what I mean,” he muttered, miserable. “Can you please just go away?” 

The boy seemed to consider for a moment. “It’s nice here,” he said, and seemed to mean it, his smile somehow different from before, for a moment. But then it turned back to a smirk. “I’ll turn around. Won’t take a single peek. I absolutely promise.” He pressed his hands devotedly to his chest. 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. Jaehyun looked innocently back. 

“Well?” Taeyong finally snapped. “Are you going to turn around any time soon or should I wait to become hypothermic?” 

“I don’t think it’s cold enough for hypothermia in June,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong splashed him, without thinking, an aggravated sweep of his hand at the water which sprayed over Jaehyun’s legs and drenched his socks. Jaehyun laughed and jumped back a step. “Fine, fine.” He turned around, still laughing, laced his fingers easily behind his head and stared off towards the grass. 

Taeyong hesitated. He felt that admitting how embarrassed he was was much more humiliating than simply being naked. But he couldn’t help it. “Can’t you, uh, go a little farther away?” he managed. 

Jaehyun laughed again, like he’d known the exact reason for Taeyong’s hesitation. Taeyong wondered what would have happened if their roles had been reversed. He suspected the boy would have hauled himself right out of the river, dripping and shamelessly bare, and Taeyong would still have been the only one to feel embarrassed. Something in his stomach fluttered oddly at the thought. 

Taeyong grabbed the tree’s root more firmly and hauled himself up, keeping his eyes fixed on Jaehyun’s back the entire time. He hurried to the trunk, pulled on his boxers over his wet skin, struggled with his shorts as they stuck to his thighs. 

“You done?” Jaehyun asked. 

“No!” 

But Jaehyun had already turned around, grinning again, his eyes sweeping down Taeyong’s chest in a way that made him feel as though he were still entirely naked. He fumbled with the button of his shorts and turned his back on the boy’s stupid smirk. 

“Come on,” he said. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.” 

“Just because you’ve seen the same set of body parts doesn’t mean you’ve seen me, ” snapped Taeyong, yanking his shirt over his head.

“Well, the water is pretty clear….” 

Taeyong whipped around, but Jaehyun threw his hands up before he could say anything. “Kidding! I’m kidding. Jeez, you’re so uptight.”

“And you’re an idiot,” Taeyong hissed. “Who the hell are you, seriously? You’re not from here.” 

Jaehyun’s eyes flickered. “Well, I’m here now.” 

Taeyong waited, thinking he’d say more, but he didn’t. “And? Where were you before? Why’d you come here? People don’t move to a town like this.” 

“I did.” 

“Why haven’t I seen you anywhere?” 

“Aw, were you looking for me?” Jaehyun strolled over to where Taeyong was standing by the trunk, leaned in too close. 

Taeyong stepped back and hit the solid warm bark behind him. “O-of course not. You just run into everyone here, sooner or later.” 

Jaehyun stared at him for a long moment. He was close enough that Taeyong could feel his breath, warmer than the summer air, warmer than his own burning cheeks. 

Jaehyun straightened abruptly, raised his arm, and for a split second Taeyong was certain he would hit him, or caress his cheek. He flinched back against the tree, raising his hands instinctively. But Jaehyun jumped instead, stretching up and grabbing the branch above Taeyong’s head, scrambling up the trunk until he could straddle the limb. He did nearly kick Taeyong in the face as he did, but he was mostly sure that was an accident. 

“You’ve been asking a lot about me, but you haven’t even told me your name,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong hesitated. Telling his name felt strangely risky, like it would open the door to something he couldn’t predict and wouldn’t be able to control. But that was ridiculous. It was only a name. “Taeyong.” 

“Taeyong.” Jaehyun’s voice was low, nearly a hum, as he repeated it. “What grade will you be in?”

Taeyong looked up. The other boy had stretched out on his stomach along the branch, his face turned away. His legs and arms dangled in front of Taeyong’s eyes. 

“I’ll be a senior,” Taeyong said. “What about you?” 

“Yeah.” Jaehyun’s voice was a little muffled. “Same for me.” 

“So you’re going to go to school here? Just for your last year?” 

“I live here now, don’t I? Is there anywhere else to go to school?” 

“We don’t get many new kids,” Taeyong said.  

“I’m sure everyone will be thrilled to meet me then.” 

Taeyong snorted before he could help it. “Maybe, until you open your mouth.” 

Jaehyun laughed, and then quieted and didn’t say anything else. Taeyong leaned back against the tree that should have been only his and felt his heartbeat reverberating into the bark. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun didn’t climb down out of the tree until the sun was high at midday and the shade of the leaves no longer did enough to ease the heat. Taeyong had left by then, a while before, saying he needed to help at the store. That was how he said it, just “the store,” as though Jaehyun would know exactly which store he was talking about. He probably would have, if he’d lived in River’s Bend longer than a week and a half, or if he’d walked down the main street even once during that time. But the only places Jaehyun knew were his uncle’s house, and this spot by the river. And he barely knew even these places at all. He had never visited his uncle Changmin before he moved here. He wasn’t even his uncle anymore, not really, not since his wife, who was Jaehyun’s dad’s sister, had died, and that had been twelve years ago. That was the first of only two funerals Jaehyun had ever been to and he could barely remember it at all. The second funeral was fresher in his mind.

Changmin asked Jaehyun to call him Uncle, but he didn’t ask for much else. He was a very quiet man, older than Jaehyun’s parents by at least ten years. His house was old but very clean. Everything had a place, and Changmin knew where everything belonged. Jaehyun had caught him more than once rearranging the pillows on the couch or the glasses in the cupboard that Jaehyun had disturbed. But he never scolded him. There was something painfully gentle about him, about the way he walked so tentatively and unobtrusively through the rooms of his own house. It put Jaehyun on edge. He couldn’t imagine this man ever refusing his dead wife’s brother any request, even the excessive burden of caring for a teenage boy he didn’t know at all for an entire year. Changmin could not possibly have actually wanted him here. A request made with the weight of family and death was just impossible to turn down. 

So the discovery of the river had been a very welcome one. Jaehyun had not left his uncle’s house at all for three days after he arrived. Changmin had picked him up at the nearest bus station, which was almost an hour away, and that drive back to his home was the only sight Jaehyun saw of River’s Bend for those first days. It was incredibly small and more than that it did not seem to exist in the same time as the city he had left. He supposed it was a cliche, but the town as he looked at it through the open windows of his not-quite-uncle’s unairconditioned car seemed like it had been left twenty years in the past.

The first three days, Jaehyun stayed mostly in his room, mostly on his bed, mostly asleep or staring at the ceiling wishing he was asleep so he didn’t have to think or feel. Changmin brought him food and cleared his plates away again and seemed not displeased but extremely uncomfortable with Jaehyun’s presence. Jaehyun lay on his bed and wondered if it had been a mistake to come to the home of a man who had been sad and alone for a very long time. He wondered if his own sadness would last as long. 

On the fourth morning Jaehyun left the house. He showered and put on clean clothes, and made breakfast to leave for his uncle when he got up, trying not to cringe at how obvious it was that he was preparing the food as some sort of apology, compensation for making such a truly miserable first impression. And then he took a rusted but sturdy enough bike from the shed out back and left. 

When he got to the bridge, he considered riding over it all the way back to the highway and the bus station. And he did ride down the road a long, long way. Almost no cars passed him in either direction. When he reached the ramp that curved up to join the highway, he let his bike drift into the grass beside the road and stopped. He was very thirsty, and drenched with sweat. He pulled off his shirt, and sat there for a long time, and knew there was no way he would make it to the bus station. Even if he did, the only place he could go was back home. So he considered that: he could go home, if he wanted. But the way his parents had watched him for the past two months, their specific and knowing brand of love and concern, had been even more stifling than Changmin’s awkwardness. And nothing in this remote town reminded Jaehyun of anything. Anyone. That was why he had come. So he supposed he would stay. 

The road looked different on his ride back. The sun-parched tall grasses and the trees and the tired blue of the sky. His shirt fell out of his waistband somewhere and was lost and he could feel his bare skin burning from the sun but he didn’t care. This place was what he needed. He told himself that with every push of his aching legs on the pedals. 

His newfound appreciation of his wild and empty surroundings meant that before he reached the bridge back into town, he noticed for the first time an unpaved path that cut off along the river. He also saw, beyond that, kids gathered on the bridge and splashing in the water below, shouting happily to each other, laughing. That was all it took to swerve his handlebars to the left and head down the deserted path instead. He had never avoided a crowd before. But he had never been the only stranger in a crowd before either. He told himself he’d have plenty of other chances to make friends. He told himself he was still the confident and outgoing person he’d been before. Anyway, in a town so small he was bound to get to know all those kids soon enough, whether he tried or not. 

The kids’ shouts faded behind him and then for a ways there was only him and the river and he relaxed with the aloneness in a way he never had before. And then he saw a tree, and then he saw the boy. 

He almost didn’t notice the boy, almost biked right past. It wasn’t the most likely place to find another person, let alone a kid his age, especially when it had seemed like the few kids in River’s Bend had all been together at the bridge. Jaehyun let his bike slow as he approached the tree. The boy was slouched in the curve between a wide branch and the trunk, his feet dangling, his arms folded loosely across his stomach. Asleep, Jaehyun thought. There was something oddly elegant about the way he had arranged himself in the tree. Jaehyun remembered thinking, as he pedaled closer, that it seemed as though that immense trunk and its sturdy branches had all grown up for the express purpose of cradling this boy while he slept. He remembered staring. 

When he finally squeezed the brakes and stopped, the boy’s eyes flew open at the screech of the old bike. Not asleep after all. The elegance he’d had a moment before shattered as he sat up; the mysterious being in the tree rearranged itself into just a teenage boy, slender and annoyed. The silence stretched. The boy’s eyes now that they were open were large and very pretty and Jaehyun realized he was still staring. He felt off-balance, a little stunned. 

Which he did his best to cover, when the boy’s first words were cold– Who are you? Jaehyun could not ever admit to being taken in by something as silly as some eyes that were really only a bit bigger than usual and a face that was only a little more striking than any other face. So he smirked and teased the boy and tried his best not to watch him too closely. A sense of humor had always been his best protection, and maybe he took some pleasure from how obviously easy it was to get under the boy’s skin. He didn’t have to be the only one out of his element.

He had been coming back to the river every day since, hoping to see the boy again. And after the first couple days, when Jaehyun decided it had just been a chance encounter and gave up on seeing him, he kept coming anyway because the tree had become the easiest place for him to be. He made breakfast for his uncle and left early, to make it over the bridge before it was taken over by the other kids. And he’d bike back late, when the sun was low and everyone had gone back home for dinner. Changmin always left dinner for him and smiled his nervous gentle smile when Jaehyun returned. 

That morning when Jaehyun had come to the tree and seen the other bike his stomach had flipped, at first with nerves, thinking it belonged to a stranger, and then with something else, when he realized it was the boy’s. When he realized it was Taeyong’s –he knew his name now and couldn’t stop turning it over in his mind, matching it with the boy's face. It took him a moment to locate the kid himself, floating some ways out in the river. He decided to surprise him, and clambered up to the best branch in the tree to wait. The branch held him just as sturdily and comfortably as it had held Taeyong, the first time he’d seen him there. He caught sight of Taeyong’s clothes hanging over one of the lower branches and a little surprised laugh escaped his lips, disturbing the quiet by the river, when he realized they were all of his clothes. That was not really what he’d expected, from the brief meeting he’d had with the other boy, who’d been cold and so easy to rattle. He pretended to sleep, and watched Taeyong swimming out in the river, and waited for him. 

When Taeyong climbed out of the water it took every ounce of willpower Jaehyun had not to turn around. He could hear the splashing water and then the wet hurried steps behind him across the dirt and he pretended, when he finally did give in and turned, that it was only to get Taeyong flustered again, that it was just to tease him. And Taeyong did get flustered, and flushed, and scowled fiercely as he turned his back. His shoulder blades were sharp. Jaehyun laughed and pretended he wasn’t breathless. 

This had mostly been working for him, in these two encounters he’d had. Pushing Taeyong’s buttons made him feel like he could be the one in control, even though he was the stranger, who didn’t know this town or anyone in it, and it served as a fairly effective distraction from all the things he didn’t want to ever think about again. It definitely allowed him to ignore the real possibility that Taeyong was the most beautiful boy he’d ever seen. Sure, he had almost gotten himself in trouble when he’d leaned Taeyong up against the tree and realized he could see every droplet of water in his eyelashes, and had to scramble rather ungracefully up onto a branch before he did god knows what. But it had mostly been easy to treat it all like a game. Games were not such a big deal even when you lost.

Now Jaehyun sprawled in the tree as the sun beat down and made even the shade stifling. He drifted in a daze of heat and the thought of biking back to town was miserable. He managed to swing down out of the tree when remaining there was unbearable, splashed some river water over his face and through his hair, and felt revived enough to pick up his bike from the path and ride slowly back into town. But he had forgotten that at midday the bridge would be crowded with kids. Their voices seemed muffled by the thick air–or he was so drowsy he didn’t quite register the noise until he was already turning onto the road, and they had seen him, and some of their conversations stopped. 

It didn’t fully go quiet, nothing so dramatic. But Jaehyun was still aware of all the kids glancing his way, and some taking enough interest to stop whatever else they’d been doing. There were kids standing on the bridge and perched on the railing, waiting to jump off, and there were kids in the water below. He managed to smile vaguely, trying not to accidentally make eye contact with anyone. A girl, as he passed by, said, very clearly, “Who’s that?” to someone beside her, or maybe to everyone there. Somewhere else he heard a “Wow” and wasn’t sure if it was a good wow or a bad one. But then, when he was nearly across the bridge, he heard his name. 

“Are you Jaehyun?” 

Jaehyun nearly toppled off his bike as he craned his head around toward the voice. It was not his uncle’s voice–the image of Changmin in this carefree summer scene was ridiculous anyway–and it was not Taeyong’s low wary tone, and Jaehyun could not imagine anyone else it could be. He stopped and saw a boy scrambling up the grassy bank out of the water. 

“You are, aren’t you? You must be. There’s no one else here I don’t know.” He said it matter-of-factly, not as though he were showing off, and Jaehyun figured in a town like this it really was just a statement of fact. The boy’s blue swim trunks looked like the color the sky had planned to be, before it got too hot and the sun bleached half the color out of everything. 

“Uh,” managed Jaehyun. 

The boy smiled and stuck out a hand. “I’m Doyoung. Taeyong told me there was a new kid.” 

“Uh,” Jaehyun said again. He shook Doyoung’s hand and his palm came away wet. “Right. Hi.” 

“You’re the librarian’s nephew, right?” 

Was Changmin a librarian? Jaehyun had to stop and rack his brain for a moment to remember. He supposed his uncle had been going to work somewhere most days since Jaehyun had moved here, but he hadn’t really thought much about where. He felt a twist of guilt again at how bad of a guest he had been, how self-absorbed. He really hadn’t thought about anything but himself for days–maybe months really, since the funeral, since the accident, way before he came to town. And now the only deviation from that train of thought had been Taeyong, for very shallow reasons, mostly involving his big dark eyes, and now also involving that morning’s glimpse of his smooth dripping wet stomach. He shook his head to clear it.

“Yeah, yes. That’s me.” Changmin’s house was full of books, neatly organized like everything else, so Jaehyun thought librarian was a decently likely profession for him, and anyway this kid seemed to know what he was talking about. 

He was aware of the others watching their interaction. No one seemed particularly hostile, just curious, but Jaehyun still squirmed internally. “Was just on my way back, actually. Need to, uh, eat lunch.” Jaehyun scratched the back of his neck, sweaty and a little gritty with dust. 

Unfortunately, Doyoung’s eyes lit up at this. “Great! Taeyong will have his break soon, and his parents always give me free food when I stop by the store.”

“Uh.” 

“They love me,” Doyoung said reassuringly, as though Jaehyun’s hesitation had anything to do with Taeyong’s parents. 

It didn’t seem like Doyoung was actually waiting for Jaehyun’s agreement. He was already grabbing a towel–a paler blue than his swimsuit–and shoving his feet into flip flops–darker blue. The noises of the other kids had returned to their normal level; a few shouted see you later’s after Doyoung. 

Doyoung kept up a steady stream of chatter as they headed back into town, Jaehyun somewhat reluctantly walking his bike since Doyoung was only on foot. Doyoung had pulled on a t-shirt at some point (also blue) and was pointing out the various buildings they passed, most of which were houses, where people Jaehyun didn’t know lived and whose names he forgot as soon as Doyoung said them. He had to appreciate the effort, though. Doyoung was the first person Jaehyun had met who seemed, convincingly, to actually want to talk to him. 

All the people they passed as they walked down the main road from the bridge greeted Doyoung cheerfully and eyed Jaehyun with an odd blend of curiosity and recognition. Jaehyun had known when he’d gotten to River’s Bend that anyone he met would notice he was an outsider, and that outsiders were rare. But he hadn’t really considered that they would know other things about him too, even without meeting him. That they would have heard of him, and known his name, while they all remained an anonymous and tightly bound group of strangers to him. He was not used to being recognized by people he didn’t already know. In the city anonymity was mutual; here it was entirely one-sided, a privilege he had already lost the second Changmin had mentioned, to anybody, in even the most casual passing comment, that his nephew was coming to stay. 

By the time they got to the store, Jaehyun’s shirt was stuck to his back with sweat and he was certain he didn’t smell great. Doyoung’s hair had dried messily in the sun and then had dampened again with sweat at his temples, and he didn’t smell particularly great himself, so Jaehyun at least hoped the chance of being ostracized for poor personal hygiene was low. 

“The store” turned out to be a supermarket–or really, just a market, Jaehyun supposed, fairly small like everything else in town. They walked into a rush of air conditioning that almost made his knees go weak with relief. The front of the store was laid out with produce, along the walls and in big tiered bins. Beyond that were six aisles, and Jaehyun could see refrigerated and frozen food behind glass doors in the back. There were two checkout lanes, though only one was manned at the moment, by Taeyong. He had on a red apron with white embroidery that matched the sign out front proclaiming Lee’s with a wreath of fruits and vegetables around it. 

“Taeyong!” Doyoung’s shout made Jaehyun jump, and because he was already staring he saw the way Taeyong jumped too, and then smiled when he caught sight of Doyoung, a smile that was no less warm for the way he rolled his eyes at the same time. Jaehyun hadn’t seen Taeyong smile like that before–he hadn’t seen him smile at all before, actually, and felt more disappointed than he wanted to. But he kept staring anyway: even though the smile wasn’t for him, it was beautiful. 

The smile faltered a moment later, when Taeyong noticed Jaehyun standing beside his friend. (Jaehyun caught himself wondering, for a second, if Taeyong and Doyoung really were only friends, or something more, but he reminded himself firmly that it didn’t matter, and was no business of his either way.) 

“What is he doing here?” Taeyong asked bluntly, managing to look both annoyed and surprised, his cheeks a little flushed. 

“I saw him at the river,” Doyoung said cheerfully. He had to have been deliberately ignoring Taeyong’s scowl; there was no way he could be truly oblivious. 

“Lovely to see you again too,” Jaehyun said, raising an eyebrow, hurriedly reaching for his usual teasing tone. “Though I think you were nicer this morning without any clothes on.” 

Doyoung’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline and Taeyong blushed and sputtered. “I’m not–I was not nicer! I mean, that’s not what I– nothing happened! ” This last directed at Doyoung, whose mouth was so widely open with bafflement and delight that Jaehyun could see the back of his throat. (He couldn’t help but note that this was definitely not the reaction of someone who thought of Taeyong as anything more than a friend.)

“We’re here for lunch, right?” Jaehyun interrupted Taeyong’s sputtering. “I’m starving.” 

“I have to work,” Taeyong managed, desperately. “I can’t believe you brought him here,” with a glare at Doyoung. 

“Take your break,” Doyoung said. 

“Yes,” a woman’s voice suddenly said, and Jaehyun turned around to see a smiling woman with eyes that were as big and dark as Taeyong’s, with gentle creases at the corners. “Go take your break and have a nice lunch.”

“No, Mom, I can stay, it’s fine. It’s, uh, busy….” Taeyong trailed off weakly even as he said it, and Jaehyun gave him a victorious look. The store was nearly empty. 

The woman ignored her son and held her hand out. “And you must be Jaehyun. I’ve heard so much about you.” 

“Have you?” Jaehyun glanced at Taeyong. 

“Not from me!” Taeyong snapped, but he was yanking the apron off over his head and coming out from behind the register. “Let’s go.” 

“But, food,” Doyoung said. 

“Someday,” Taeyong said, jabbing an elbow into Doyoung’s arm, “I’m going to stop letting you steal from this store and see once and for all if you keep hanging out with me.” 

“You already know I wouldn’t,” Doyoung replied easily. 

“And what a relief that will be,” Taeyong muttered. 

“Oh stop,” Taeyong’s mother said, though she was smiling. “Go get your lunch.” 

Jaehyun watched the interaction quietly, envious of the ease between the three of them. He had had plenty of friends back home, but never this kind of familiarity with their families too. He’d had one friend though who’d been closer to him than blood. His chest twisted and it was suddenly difficult to breathe—

“You too,” Taeyong’s mother was saying. Her hand was on Jaehyun’s arm and he came back to himself a little. “There’s prepared foods over there, pick out what you like.”

“Oh,” Jaehyun said, blinking, aching. “Right. Thank you Ma’am.” 

Doyoung and Taeyong had already set out down the aisles and Jaehyun followed, a little dazed, watching them bicker up ahead. Maybe it was reassuring, Jaehyun thought, fiercely ignoring his previous train of thought, the way they argued. If Taeyong was this disagreeable even with a friend he was obviously close with, maybe his prickliness towards Jaehyun wasn’t such a bad sign.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong sat on the bench in the shade and tried to ignore the heat of Jaehyun’s eyes on him. At least, he was pretty sure Jaehyun’s eyes were on him. He’d been avoiding looking at him too much since he’d shown up at the store. His dark hair was raked back from his face and even though it was just sweat that made it stay like that the full effect of his face without his hair hanging into his eyes kept making Taeyong forget what he was saying, or thinking, or doing. So he focused on his food and let Doyoung keep up a steady stream of conversation instead. 

Doyoung, of course, was all too happy to do the talking, and Jaehyun seemed quickly comfortable with him. Taeyong wasn’t surprised: Doyoung was easy to like, friends or at least friendly with nearly everyone in town, the kind of kid who made all the older folks’ eyes light up when they saw him. He pushed himself hard in school, but didn’t let it show, and never let how busy he might be keep him from falling into conversation with anyone he happened to meet. Taeyong was probably one of the few people who knew how hard Doyoung could be on himself, which he felt strangely proud of, to be the closest friend of a person who was friends with everyone. But he resented now how easily Jaehyun spoke to him, laughing at the things he said, with no sign of the irritating teasing he kept inflicting on Taeyong. His laugh did something to Taeyong’s chest every time he heard it. 

“So why’d you move here, anyway?” Doyoung was saying. 

“Uh,” Jaehyun hesitated, and Taeyong looked up in spite of himself, surprised to hear him at a loss for words. Jaehyun was looking down at his food, and if Taeyong didn’t know better he would have said he seemed uncomfortable. “Just wanted a change of scenery, I guess,” Jaehyun finally said, smiling again, dimples in his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Doyoung said eagerly, apparently unbothered by what to Taeyong had seemed an obviously evasive answer. “It’s so nice here, isn’t it?” 

Jaehyun glanced up, suddenly, at Taeyong, catching him off guard so their eyes met before Taeyong could remember he was supposed to be spending this meal staring exclusively at his food. “Yeah, it is nice,” said Jaehyun. And a smaller smile flickered across his face. Taeyong looked quickly away, scowling, feeling somehow that he was being teased again, and doubly annoyed that he couldn’t quite figure out how. 

“You should come swimming with us sometime,” Doyoung said. “The bridge is great, and you can meet the other kids in our class. Don’t worry,” he said reassuringly, since Jaehyun was looking a little startled, “People here are really nice, you’ll fit right in.” 

Taeyong decided not to mention that Doyoung’s experience of people’s niceness had a lot to do with his own infectious friendliness. People in River’s Bend easily fell into gossip or clung to petty grievances, and outsiders were not always welcomed with the warmth they showed one of their own. He winced a little, internally, to remember his own coldness towards Jaehyun. But he’d just been so startled that first day, to see someone he didn’t know, and then to have it be someone his age, someone so handsome–anyone would have been startled. Surely Jaehyun hadn’t been offended, when he was so quick to joke and laugh. 

“Hello, Jaehyun.” A quiet voice behind them made them all turn around. The librarian, Mr. Park, was walking across the parched grass behind the bench they sat on, one of a cluster of benches on the small lawn beside the library. 

“Oh, hi… Uncle,” Jaehyun said awkwardly, and Taeyong glanced at him again. 

“Hi Mr. Park,” Doyoung said brightly, and the librarian smiled back, nodding. 

Taeyong didn’t know him very well, and was pretty sure he’d only spoken to him in the library itself, or on the occasions when he’d happen to be the one ringing up his groceries at the store. Unlike most people in town, Mr. Park didn’t talk much about anything that didn’t need to be said. The longest conversation Taeyong had had with him had been when he’d needed to find books for a history project two years before. 

“Well, have a nice lunch. I’ll see you at home,” the librarian said now, to Jaehyun, who nodded back, and he continued on his way across the grass without looking back.  

“What’s it like,” Doyoung said, in a low voice although Mr. Park had already disappeared inside the big library doors, “living with him?” 

“Um, I mean, it’s fine,” said Jaehyun. 

“He’s a little weird though, right?” Doyoung said. 

“You can’t say that about someone’s family,” Taeyong said.

“Not in a bad way!” Doyoung said, looking startled. “Shit, sorry—”

“No,” Jaehyun laughed. “It’s fine. He’s pretty quiet. I don’t actually know him super well. But he’s nice. He lets me sort of do whatever.” 

Doyoung hummed a little doubtfully, but didn’t press. Instead he turned to Taeyong. “So what are we doing for your birthday?” 

“It’s your birthday?” Jaehyun looked over and Taeyong looked quickly down at his food. 

“In a couple weeks.” 

“So you’re younger than me?” Taeyong could hear Jaehyun’s grin without even needing to look up. 

“Probably not,” he said coolly, at the same time Doyoung said, “He’ll already be eighteen,” and then added brightly, “He repeated a year in elementary school.” 

Taeyong looked up and glared. “I don’t know why you sound so thrilled to be sharing that information.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” Doyoung said, waving Taeyong off. He turned to Jaehyun. “When’s your birthday?”

“February,” Jaehyun said. “Uh, the 14th.” 

“I’m February 1st! But wow, Valentine’s Day?” Doyoung laughed. “You must have a very romantic life.”

“Well, you know,” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong looked up in spite of himself, but Jaehyun’s face was blocked by his arm as he ran a hand back through his hair. His ear, all Taeyong could see of him, was pink. 

“The girls are all gonna love you,” Doyoung was saying, sounding excited. “And the boys. Everybody. We don’t get many new kids.” 

“So I’ve heard,” Jaehyun said. He looked at Taeyong again, and his cheeks were as pink as his ears, and Taeyong didn’t know what to make of this. 

“Well,” Taeyong said abruptly, standing up, trying to avoid the flutter in his stomach as Jaehyun’s face tipped up to follow his movement. “I have to get back to work.” 

Doyoung nodded, mouth full. “Think about your birthday, or I’ll just throw you a party and you won’t be able to complain about any of it!” 

“See you later,” Jaehyun said. He was still looking up at Taeyong. He smiled, and it didn’t look quite teasing enough, and Taeyong scowled at the way that made his own cheeks heat. He turned and headed quickly back to the store. 

~~

The next morning Taeyong woke early, and after a bitter argument with himself decided he couldn’t let the completely inconsequential arrival of a new boy in town derail his usual summer plans. He didn’t need to work at the store that day, so he would go to the river like always, and if Jaehyun was there, then he was there, and so be it. This decision didn’t give him any relief, but filled him with a stubborn sort of momentum. He dribbled toothpaste down his shirt and had to change–nearly ripping the collar when he yanked it angrily off–and then spilled hot coffee over his hand in the kitchen. He drenched one leg with soapy water washing his mug, but decided just to deal with it, since he was in swim trunks already anyway. He banged around the house so much on the way out that his mother finally called out to him to just leave already before he broke something valuable. When he grabbed his bike from where it leaned against the side of the house the pedal scraped up his shin. 

The ride to the river wasn’t much better. He felt certain he’d see Jaehyun there, in his spot, in his tree, and he hated the thought of it, and he hated the excited tremor it sent through him just as much. He didn’t need any more friends. And he definitely didn’t need anything more than a friend, whatever that might include, which he refused to think about, and then thought about anyway, as soon as he heard his name being yelled out behind him in an already familiar voice. 

He hadn’t even reached the bridge yet. Jaehyun’s uncle’s house was up on a quiet winding sidestreet that couldn’t be seen from the main road, but it was closer to the bridge than Taeyong’s house was, and he wondered for a split second if Jaehyun had been waiting to see him go past. He dismissed that thought firmly. 

“Hey! Taeyong!” The call came again from some distance back, but it was already getting closer. Taeyong refused to slow down, though there was no way to pretend he hadn’t heard Jaehyun’s shout, and he knew ignoring him would only give him more fuel for his jokes and his smirking. It didn’t matter anyway; Jaehyun caught up to him just before the bridge, standing up off the pedals, sweaty and out of breath. 

“You really don’t make it easy,” he gasped, and Taeyong was glad, because he didn’t want to make it easy, whatever it was; and embarrassed, because he seemed unable to stop himself from putting his most childish side on display whenever Jaehyun was around. 

Jaehyun kept pace with Taeyong, biking side by side. At the bridge there was a car, driving towards them into town, and Taeyong determinedly didn’t slow down, until he realized Jaehyun wouldn’t slow either and the car actually had to honk at them. Mortified, Taeyong dropped back so they could ride past in single file. He didn’t miss Jaehyun’s grin as he pulled ahead. 

Of course, the car window rolled down, and a woman’s voice chided, “Taeyong, you should be more careful!” He was pretty sure it was his fifth grade teacher, though he didn’t look too closely to check. Jaehyun went on unrecognized and unbothered and Taeyong burned with something that had to be envy. 

They turned off the road after the bridge, and Taeyong started pedaling faster, nearly catching Jaehyun, who noticed and sped up too. They raced down the dusty path. Taeyong’s front wheel nosed up alongside Jaehyun’s strong pedaling legs. His lungs were burning, the morning was already hot and the sun made him squint. He glared and burned and gripped his handlebars hard enough that his fingers ached. The tree loomed up before them. His front wheel inched ahead of Jaehyun’s, and then further ahead, and he was winning, and then they were at the tree in a spray of dust and the belated squeal of Jaehyun’s old brakes, seconds behind Taeyong. 

Taeyong leaned against the trunk, angry and breathless and a little confused at himself, and when he calmed a bit he realized Jaehyun was laughing, gasping and out of breath himself. 

“What are you laughing for?” Taeyong panted. 

“That was fun,” Jaehyun gasped back. His bike was already on its side in the dirt, and he leaned over with his hands on his knees, back heaving. 

Taeyong stared. That had not been fun. He had needed to reach the tree first, and he had. Jaehyun had lost. And now Jaehyun was laughing. He knocked his head back against the trunk a little too hard and then turned and scrambled ferociously up to his branch. He needed space. That was why he came here, for space. 

“Scooch up.” 

Taeyong turned, and stared, incredulous. Jaehyun was halfway up the trunk, hanging from a lower branch. It should have been precarious and yet it looked effortless for him, a lightness behind his strength. His forehead was streaked with dust where he’d wiped at his sweat. 

“No!” Taeyong said, his voice too high, childish. He swallowed. “Go away.” 

Jaehyun laughed again. “Aw, come on, let me up.”

“No.” Taeyong turned away and looked determinedly out at the river without seeing it. 

Jaehyun let out a huff of breath, and then levered himself up, crawling past Taeyong and practically over him, until he managed with some difficulty to get himself up onto the same branch. 

“Ah,” he sighed contentedly, though he had a pale scratch on his jaw and one on his elbow that was beading up with blood. “That’s better.” He was facing Taeyong, and now that he was balanced he let his long legs hang down on either side of the branch and stretched out on his back along it. 

Taeyong pressed himself back hard against the trunk in the hope that he might create some distance between them, or maybe that the tree would just open and swallow him up. But there was no distance to be had. Jaehyun’s knees bumped gently against Taeyong’s feet which he’d pulled up onto the branch, curling up in some futile attempt at self-preservation like a small animal. Hadn’t he just decided that morning that he wouldn’t let Jaehyun interrupt his summer plans? And here he was cowering in his own tree. But if he stretched out his legs his own knees would press against Jaehyun’s and the thought of that was strangely mortifying. The whole expanse of the branch in front of him seemed to have been taken up by Jaehyun’s body, and there was too much to notice from this unusual angle: the underside of his jaw, the rise and fall of his chest, the flickering muscles in his thighs as he swung his legs. His shirt had ridden up and the strip of stomach it revealed was slightly paler than his knees and arms. Taeyong had seen him entirely shirtless the first time they’d met, but this now was closer and stranger and worse. His jaw ached oddly and he didn’t know where to look.  

“It’s so nice here,” Jaehyun said, sounding uncharacteristically genuine, his voice soft and easy and blending with the summer sounds of the river. 

Taeyong hugged his knees and said nothing. Jaehyun lifted his head, and Taeyong looked at him, a little alarmed, as though this small movement in his direction might turn into a full attack. “Isn’t it?” Jaehyun asked. 

“Why do you keep—?” Taeyong stopped, unsure what he’d been going to say. “Why are you always around?” he finished, though that wasn’t really what he’d meant. 

“It’s not like there are lots of places to go,” Jaehyun said. He laced his fingers behind his head. 

“There are plenty of places that aren’t here,” Taeyong said. “There are plenty of other places, more fun places, and other people too.” 

“I don’t know other people,” Jaehyun said. He dropped his head back onto the branch. 

“Well, you should meet them,” said Taeyong. “You won’t get anywhere just knowing me.” 

“I’m not trying to get anywhere. I’m just here. This is where I am.” Jaehyun let out a breath like a sigh. “I’m here.” 

“But why ?” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun sat up, suddenly, his eyes bright. “Why not here? I told you before, I needed a change of pace, okay? And if this place isn’t a change, I don’t know where is. I just couldn’t stay there anymore, I needed to–I couldn’t stay.” 

Taeyong’s mouth gaped a little. He’d been asking why Jaehyun was here at the tree, but he felt he had gotten a lot more of an answer than that. 

“Why couldn’t you stay?” Taeyong wasn’t sure why he asked. He didn’t think he actually wanted any answers. “Did you… do something?” 

“No,” Jaehyun said. His shoulders dropped suddenly. “No, I didn’t do anything. No one did anything. It was no one’s fault.” He lay back down on the branch, no longer swinging his legs. “It was no one’s fault.” Said like a sigh, or a prayer repeated so many times the words had already lost all meaning. 

Taeyong didn’t say anything. He wasn’t sure what Jaehyun meant, if it required a response or, even worse, comfort. He felt embarrassed. He suddenly didn’t want to know anything that had happened to Jaehyun before he arrived in River’s Bend. He didn’t want to tie the two of them together with some sort of secret. And Jaehyun deserved someone better to share his secrets with anyway, someone who could help, who wasn’t still so immature and childish and afraid. Because that was the feeling in Taeyong’s stomach, at that moment–fear. The problem was, it didn’t feel so different from the feeling that had been lingering in his stomach since the first moment he’d seen Jaehyun. Taeyong rested his cheek on his knees, and listened to the cicadas, and wondered why, if he was so afraid, he didn’t just climb down out of the tree. 

They sat in silence for a long stretch of the summer morning, the sun climbing quickly in the sky. At some point Jaehyun’s legs resumed their easy swinging and then he started humming, quiet snatches of some tune that faded into silence and then picked up again, occasionally a few words half-sung under his breath. Taeyong couldn’t recognize it but Jaehyun’s voice was low and sweet and carried the melody well. 

“What song is that?” Taeyong asked, and then lifted his head, a little surprised at himself.

“I made it up,” Jaehyun said. He lifted his head too, and his usual smile was back in place. “Why, you like it?” 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. “Just curious.” 

Jaehyun looked back up at the canopy of leaves above them, still smiling, and it was the version of his smile that didn’t have a hint of teasing in it. Taeyong didn’t want to think too hard about the fact that he was starting to categorize Jaehyun’s smiles. 

“I wrote it last year. I was the star of the school talent show, you know.” He laughed a little, remembering. 

“So you’re a singer?” 

“Not really.” Jaehyun paused and Taeyong could feel the silence had some kind of weight, not the sleepy summery one they’d been sitting in before, so he didn’t say anything and waited. “I mostly played piano,” Jaehyun said after a moment. “I’d make things up on the piano when I was bored, and I guess that one just… had words I wanted to go with it. And I sing well enough to carry a tune, at least. So yeah, then I had a song.” 

“What’s it called?” 

“‘You,’” Jaehyun said, and where he’d hesitated before this time he spoke almost too fast. “It’s just called ‘You.’”

“Who’s ‘You’?” Taeyong asked, seizing at a rare opportunity to tease Jaehyun back. “Girlfriend? B-boyfriend? Crush?” 

“It’s just made up,” Jaehyun said, too fast again, his expression a little strange. “You like music?” 

“Yeah, I like music,” Taeyong said. “Why, are you gonna write me a song too?” 

Taeyong was expecting some quick retort. Whatever distress there had been in their conversation earlier had faded and they’d returned to some easy meaningless banter, he’d thought. And even though he wasn’t used to teasing like this and was a little flustered by his own boldness he thought Jaehyun would certainly be comfortable with it, from how unserious he’d been up to now. He was just following the tone Jaehyun had set, really. 

But Jaehyun was quiet. He didn’t laugh or even seem to be smiling, though Taeyong couldn’t quite see his face. The silence stretched on so long Taeyong started wondering if he should apologize, but he couldn’t imagine what he’d said wrong. Maybe it seemed like he was flirting. Maybe, he realized with horror, he had been flirting. Maybe Jaehyun was disgusted by him. 

“No,” Jaehyun said then, quietly, almost lost beneath the drone of the cicadas. 

Taeyong stared at him and his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He’d just been making an offhand comment, he hadn’t been seriously asking for something so ridiculous as a song written just for him. But Jaehyun’s response wasn’t playful at all. Taeyong felt suddenly very small. 

“I was just kidding,” he muttered. And then, when Jaehyun didn’t even react, “Well, fuck this then.” 

He swung down out of the tree and didn’t turn back. He grabbed his bike and yanked it upright, doubly embarrassed now, because he knew he was overreacting. He had no idea why Jaehyun kept dragging so much emotion out of him, and why he couldn’t hide it. He’d thought for a moment that they might have been having a totally normal conversation, that it could be easy, maybe, without Jaehyun’s teasing and without the automatic distrust Taeyong had felt at Jaehyun’s abrupt appearance in his life. And he had wanted that, he realized: an easy conversation, a nice one, with someone new, when he so rarely met anyone new. But there was something inscrutable about the other boy, about his sudden silences that seemed to have nothing to do with what was actually being said, his sudden solemn tone when a moment before everything had been light and easy, and Taeyong was left feeling bad either way, like it was his fault for not being able to keep up. He couldn’t be bothered anymore, he decided. He wasn’t sure how hard he’d really been trying, but he didn’t want to try any harder. He didn’t even know why he cared so much in the first place. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun sat in the tree and stared at the fading cloud of dust that was Taeyong’s bike disappearing in the distance. He’d sat up fast when Taeyong had cursed and now he could vaguely feel the sting of a scrape from the bark across the back of his hip. He had been so startled he hadn’t even managed to call after him and now he was just gone, pedaling at full speed, furious, Jaehyun thought, even though he could only see his back. Jaehyun hadn’t been thinking, and now Taeyong was gone. 

Or, more accurately, Jaehyun had been thinking, but his thoughts had not been about Taeyong, or even about where he was, or what he was saying or doing. He’d gotten lost, again, in everything that had happened, in the way things had been before. In the gray light of a rainy afternoon at the upright piano in his family’s apartment. In the way those notes had sounded the first time he’d played them, the sweet simple melody that eventually flowed into an entire song, almost without effort or thought, unlike anything he’d ever felt before when he played. In the way he kept humming it, in the halls at school, when he was with his friends, when he was with…. And the way the humming had turned into words, eventually, and those he had worked at, writing and rewriting over and over again until they felt like they said what he’d been trying to say. What he felt. The thrill of playing the song at the talent show, the first time he’d shared it in front of anyone except his parents, who couldn’t help but overhear whatever he practiced in their small apartment. Knowing he was in the audience watching. Listening, hearing every word. That was great, Jaehyun! I didn’t know you could sing like that! 

Jaehyun rocked forward until his forehead bumped gently against the trunk of the tree, where Taeyong had been sitting a moment before. He couldn’t believe he’d been humming that song today, so easily, so thoughtlessly. He had been doing his best not to think about anything since he’d arrived here. But it had been so nice to sit in the tree and not be alone and he had forgotten for a moment how bad everything still felt. He had been uneasy when Taeyong first asked him about the song, and he realized what he’d been singing. He’d thought treating it like nothing would be better than admitting the song meant something to him. And then as they’d talked he’d just slipped back into all those memories. 

Now he was pretty sure he’d hurt Taeyong’s feelings. He could see how his reply to what had been a totally lighthearted question from Taeyong would have been unexpected, at least. Especially because–oh god–had Taeyong been flirting with him? He groaned against the tree. He felt like it might be too much to assume someone like Taeyong might actually have been flirting with him, but either way, it was probably for the best that he’d responded so incompetently there was no chance of it ever happening again. Definitely for the best. He couldn’t even manage to stay in the present, and he couldn’t think about the past without feeling like his heart and lungs were going to burst, and the only conversations he could have without feeling too much were so snarky and shallow he couldn’t really blame Taeyong for getting fed up. 

And what would it mean, to offend someone in a town this small? Would Taeyong tell people he was a complete dick or totally weird or socially inept, and then Jaehyun would never be able to make a single friend in River’s Bend because the rest of them all knew each other and wouldn’t ever give him a chance? He’d never be able to make another friend like the one he had lost, he knew that, but would be never be able to make any other friends at all? Was something so fucked up inside him now that he couldn’t talk to anyone about even the most casual things without pissing them off or confusing them or hurting them? Would he be stuck here completely alone for an entire year, when this was supposed to be a chance for him to heal? 

He groaned again, and wrapped his arms across his stomach, and barely noticed when he started to cry; the tears sliding down his cheeks were exactly the same temperature as his sun-hot skin. The grief counselor at his old school had told him crying was a good thing, that it was okay to feel your feelings. But he was pretty sure she’d been wrong, because sitting up there in the tree he cried for the first time since everything had happened, and it felt worse than anything, like he would never stop, like he was dying.

~~

Jaehyun didn’t die, but his head ached so badly when he got back to his uncle’s house that he could feel it in his fingertips and tongue, a weird vibration that was somehow also a taste. He’d stayed at the tree later than ever, long past dark, because after crying himself to exhaustion he couldn’t bear the thought of running into even a single kid at the bridge who would see his red puffy face and know. Now he couldn’t quite remember the reason for all the tears. He kept running through the same cycle of thoughts, like pressing on a tender bruise: the pleasant memories he’d never get back and the moment he’d heard about the accident and the funeral and Taeyong’s voice saying fuck this then and the fact that now he was alone and would be forever . But his eyes didn’t prickle with even a hint of fresh tears anymore. He just felt blank, the only sensations left were purely physical. He hadn’t eaten, he was probably dehydrated. The thoughts that had been so unbearable now had a distant, narrative quality, like they’d happened to someone else and he’d just read about them in a very sad book. He wasn’t sure if the blankness was a relief. 

When he opened the door he was surprised to see his uncle sitting on the bottom step just inside. Changmin stood up quickly and Jaehyun faltered in the doorway. He hadn’t expected his uncle to still be up, let alone to look so worried. 

“You’re back,” Changmin said, his voice as quiet as ever, but his face was full of emotion, something like fear.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said. “Sorry I’m late.” 

“I was calling,” Changmin said. His usual uncertainty was creeping back into his face now, the usual hesitation and awkwardness. 

Jaehyun pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was dead. “Oh,” he said vaguely, empty. “It died, sorry.” 

Changmin looked at him for a long time, and Jaehyun shifted his weight awkwardly. “I’m, uh, gonna head up to bed,” Jaehyun said finally, making to edge around his uncle. 

“Don’t do that again,” Changmin said, sounding strained, upset, but not angry. It was not the tone of a parent scolding a child. It was more of a plea. 

They were standing very close together in the entryway. Jaehyun paused in his attempted escape up the stairs, and noticed for the first time that he was taller than his uncle. Changmin put his hand on his arm and squeezed. “Please. I know….” But he trailed off, and Jaehyun couldn’t guess what he was going to say, and then, looking down into his uncle’s eyes, he realized he could guess after all. 

“I won’t,” Jaehyun said, a little scared now himself. “I won’t do anything… bad. I’m okay.” He put his hand over his uncle’s and pulled him off of his arm, gently and awkwardly. “I’m sorry I worried you. I’m really fine.” 

Changmin looked up into his face and seemed about to speak again. Jaehyun knew he didn’t look fine: he looked exactly like he’d been crying uncontrollably for hours. But Changmin glanced away again without saying anything more, seeming to deflate a little. 

“Goodnight,” Jaehyun said, and walked up the stairs to his room. He pulled off his clothes and left them in a heap on his floor, and then let himself fall, face first, into his bed. His mouth felt sticky with thirst, and his face was swollen and hot, but he drifted into a deep blank sleep before he could convince himself to clean up. 

~~

He woke to a gentle knocking on his door. 

“Jaehyun?” 

Jaehyun managed to open his eyes, barely. He felt awful, every limb too heavy to move, his skin sweaty and sticking where it touched the sheets, but at least the pain in his head had faded. “Mmmph?” he managed. 

“Jaehyun, are you awake? Your friend’s here to see you.” 

For a sweet sleep-dazed moment Jaehyun thought it must be him. “Haru’s here?” he said, struggling to lift his head out of the pillow. He had to get up, he had to see him, quickly before he—

“It’s Doyoung!” came a brighter and less familiar voice. Jaehyun opened his eyes, realizing as he did so that they had not been open before at all, that he’d still been half in a dream. A horrible weight plunged into his chest, and then was replaced by a more immediate panic when he sat up and realized he was naked, and his clothes were strewn around the room, and he was a complete and hopeless mess. 

The doorknob turned, and Jaehyun barely managed to pull the sheet up before Doyoung came in. 

“What are you doing here?” Jaehyun said, more fiercely than he’d meant, embarrassed and confused. 

“I said we should go swimming by the bridge, didn’t I?” Doyoung was glancing around the room, and then peering at Jaehyun. “Are you okay? You kind of look like shit.” 

“Sorry I couldn’t make myself presentable before you barged in at—” Jaehyun glanced at the clock, feeling like it must have been close to dawn, but it was already nearly eleven. He narrowed his eyes at Doyoung, who laughed, not unkindly. 

“Not a morning person, huh? You sound just like Taeyong.” 

This made all the events of the day before come rushing back, and Jaehyun groaned into his drawn-up knees. 

“Come on, get up, get your swimsuit. He’s waiting for us outside.” 

Jaehyun looked up, startled, forgetting to hide his face from Doyoung’s scrutiny. 

“It’s his day off,” Doyoung said, as though that would explain away Jaehyun’s surprise, which had nothing at all to do with Taeyong’s work schedule. Maybe Taeyong hadn’t told Doyoung, then, about anything that had happened the day before. 

“Let me just shower–” Jaehyun tried. 

“What? We’re going swimming!” 

Jaehyun felt a desperate need to buy some time, not to mention to make himself look a little less shit-like before facing Taeyong. But Doyoung looked determined, standing fully in Jaehyun’s room now, while Changmin hesitated awkwardly in the doorway, looking between them like he wasn’t sure if he should intervene. 

“Can I at least brush my teeth?” Jaehyun finally asked, more pathetically than he would’ve liked, considering he was pretty sure he had every right to tell Doyoung, who was practically a stranger after all, to get the hell out of his bedroom. 

“Of course,” Doyoung said cheerfully. Jaehyun glared, and Doyoung laughed in response, but finally left the room. “Don’t be long!”

Jaehyun found a bathing suit in one of his suitcases, and pulled on a t-shirt he was pretty sure was clean. He dreaded looking in the mirror when he finally made it to the bathroom. The red blotchiness around his eyes had faded but he still looked swollen and tired, and there were deep creases where the pillow had pressed into his face. He washed his face with cold water, and brushed his teeth, and downed a full glass of water, and stared at himself in the mirror again, a little hopelessly. He felt more alert, at least. Before going downstairs he unearthed a baseball cap from a pile on his desk and pulled it low over his eyes, hoping Taeyong wouldn’t look too closely. 

Doyoung had disappeared–probably outside waiting with Taeyong, as much as Jaehyun wished they both would’ve given up on him and left–but Changmin was hovering by the front door when Jaehyun went downstairs. He didn’t say anything but watched Jaehyun too closely as he grabbed his keys and pulled on his sneakers. 

“I’m really doing okay, Uncle Changmin,” Jaehyun finally said. 

“It’s nice you’ve made some friends,” Changmin said, awkward, burdensome. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, and tried to smile reassuringly. “They’re nice.” He opened the door. 

“Jaehyun–” Changmin started, and then seemed to regret it when Jaehyun turned around. 

“Yeah?” Jaehyun prompted. 

“It’s alright if you’re not,” he said. “If you’re not okay yet, I mean. That’s alright too. I just… wanted to say that.” 

Jaehyun stared, surprised and uncomfortable. His eyes stung, which he didn’t need again, not when Doyoung and Taeyong were just beyond the door he was halfway through. 

“Oh. Thanks,” he said, and realized he meant it, and felt he should have said something more. He pinched his forefinger and thumb over his eyes, and smiled sheepishly at his uncle, who gave him his own small smile in response. He wasn’t sure his uncle was the best person to be giving advice. He wasn’t sure his uncle was okay even now, more than a decade after his wife’s death. But it was more comforting than he’d expected to realize there was someone who understood, even a little. 

“I was beginning to think you’d snuck out the back or something,” Doyoung said cheerfully when Jaehyun reached the front gate. 

“I was tempted,” Jaehyun said, knowing Doyoung would just laugh in response, and smiling in spite of himself when Doyoung did just that. 

Taeyong straddled his own bike a few paces away, and Jaehyun couldn’t help but glance over at him, even though he’d meant to hide the state of his face as much as possible. But Taeyong was looking straight ahead, up the empty street, his jaw tight. Jaehyun wondered why he’d come along if he was still so obviously angry with him. And he wondered what it might feel like to trace the angle of Taeyong’s jaw with his finger, how sharp or strong or delicate it might feel. 

Taeyong kicked off and started pedaling up the street, leaving Doyoung behind to wait while Jaehyun grabbed his own bike, and he was far ahead by the time Jaehyun got going. The bridge, when they reached it, was already crowded with kids. Jaehyun leaned his bike against a tree with Doyoung’s, and while he recognized Taeyong’s bike against another tree nearby he didn’t have time to locate the boy himself, since Doyoung was already enthusiastically introducing him to the kids nearby and pointing out those who were too far away to hear. Jaehyun smiled widely and felt painfully aware of how tender his eyelids still felt. He hoped no one would notice with how blinding the sun was and how everyone had to squint. 

The names flowed through his head and barely stuck. It was hard to keep up when Doyoung kept slipping seamlessly into news and gossip and inside jokes with everyone he introduced. There were a couple soon-to-be-sophomores, Mark and Haechan, and Jaehyun didn’t quite remember which was which but one of them had purple hair. There were a handful of middle-school boys whose names all seemed to start with J, and a tight-knit group of girls who did seem, as Doyoung had predicted, rather intrigued by Jaehyun’s presence. There were some kids Jaehyun’s age who he tried his best to pay attention to, since they’d be in the same class, but he only caught one name–Yuta–out of the three. There were also some older kids who’d already graduated, including Doyoung’s older brother and his friends, who all treated Doyoung like a little kid, and by extension were nice but not terribly interested in Jaehyun. 

If Jaehyun was honest, part of the reason it was so hard for him to keep track of all the people he was meeting was because a fair amount of his brain power was preoccupied with figuring out where Taeyong was. And when he finally spotted him, already swimming down in the water below, he only got even more distracted. 

After an eternity, Doyoung’s introductions seemed to have petered out in favor of arguing with his brother, and Jaehyun decided it wouldn’t be rude to go off on his own. There was a certain amount of comfort Jaehyun had noticed among the other kids, the comfort of routine and familiarity, that he supposed developed when you’d been around the same people in the same place for such a long time. There were clear social currents he couldn’t decipher yet, but it didn’t seem like a place where he was too at risk of committing some unforgivable error. Instead, it seemed more like everyone knew each other so well that it was perfectly acceptable for them all to do whatever they wanted with very little concern for anyone else. More kids arrived at the bridge as the morning went on, and other kids left, and there wasn’t much ceremony of greeting or farewell either way. These kids had all been coming and going in and out of each other’s company their entire lives. It made Jaehyun feel a little lonely, suddenly, not because he was an outsider but because he’d never had this level of ease with his classmates, let alone his entire school or neighborhood. These kids clearly weren’t all close friends with each other, but they coexisted so closely nonetheless, with a kind of thoughtlessness and lack of concern that struck Jaehyun as strangely intimate. 

Jaehyun turned to head down off the bridge to the bank, which he could see had been worn to a gentle slope by years–generations, maybe–of kids swimming here. But a clear shout of his name called him back. Doyoung had noticed his attempted escape after all, and was gesturing enthusiastically at the rail of the bridge beside him. 

“You have to jump! No one gets in the water down there except the little kids.” 

“Oh, right.” Jaehyun tried his best to smile, as though this was the most exciting suggestion he’d ever heard. The other kids on the bridge had looked over, more genuinely excited. He wondered if this was some sort of rite of passage or if the entertainment in River’s Bend was just severely lacking. “I’ll just put my stuff—” He tried to turn toward his bike, thinking there was a good chance everyone would forget about him if he got out of their direct line of sight. 

“I’ll hold it, come on!” Doyoung pulled out his phone, and Jaehyun realized that he was definitely going to film this. 

He gave up and walked over to the rail. The middle school kids with the J names were clustered around, dripping from their own repeated loop of jumping off the rail and climbing out at the bank, over and over again, tirelessly, but they moved aside now and whooped in a way Jaehyun thought was meant to be encouraging. Or else they were making fun of him–he couldn’t quite tell with pre-teens. He looked down into the water and found Taeyong, treading water slowly and squinting up at him in the sun. He didn’t exactly want to jump, but he knew how to play this off. He knew how to enjoy all the eyes on him, even though he’d cried himself to sleep the night before, even though Taeyong probably hated him now. 

He tossed Doyoung his phone and grinned, a smile that felt a little more real this time, and lifted his arms wide out to either side, turning in a circle to take in his audience. The boys behind him whooped again, and the sound was echoed now by the kids in the water, who started splashing for good measure. He knew how to put on a show. He pulled his shirt off over his head and kicked off his shoes, and the girls giggled and the older kids whistled and he climbed up onto the rail and all the sounds turned into cheers, and he thought it wasn’t so bad at all. He bounced a little on his toes, looking down at the water, and then he pretended to lose his balance, flailing wildly for a moment while kids gasped and shrieked. He righted himself, and laughed, and everyone cheered again and it felt magnificent. His eyes found Taeyong. He was pretty sure he saw a smile on the other boy’s face, small, like he’d been trying not to pay Jaehyun any attention. But he was paying attention, even if he was pissed, even if he avoided Jaehyun for the rest of the year–in that moment Taeyong was looking up at him, watching him, waiting to see what he would do. 

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong squinted up at Jaehyun standing on the rail far above and could’ve sworn he was glowing. The rail was usually crowded with kids jumping or waiting to jump or just watching the ones who were brave enough, but everyone had given Jaehyun space, and he was alone up there, arms spread wide. Even the sun seemed to be paying special attention to him, washing out the details of his face, erasing all the shadows and contours of his body, so he just glowed. He was too bright to look at but Taeyong couldn’t look away, and neither could anyone else. 

Jaehyun seemed to be loving it, spreading out his arms and grinning–the sun couldn’t wash him out enough to hide his smile. Taeyong blew his breath out into a burst of bubbles on the water’s surface. Even if, by some miracle, Jaehyun hadn’t been totally weirded out by Taeyong’s behavior yesterday, by the end of the day–probably by the end of this stupid jump off the bridge–Jaehyun was sure to have a whole gaggle of admirers, and sooner or later some of those admirers would become actual friends, or something more. Taeyong had been the first kid Jaehyun had met here, but he certainly wasn’t the most fun, or the most interesting. He hadn’t even been particularly pleasant to be around. Jaehyun would lose interest soon, and that would be for the best, Taeyong told himself. He wouldn’t have to put up with Jaehyun’s teasing, he wouldn’t keep getting distracted by his infuriating and pretty smiles. He wouldn’t keep making a fool of himself. But for now, he could still stare.

Jaehyun lifted his arms, and the kids around the bridge went dramatically quiet. Jisung, Jaemin, and Jeno, who could always be found together at the bridge, started a drumroll on the railing. Someone let out a whoop, breaking the silence, and Jaehyun jumped, drawing up his legs and hugging them, arcing through the air. He yelled before he hit the surface, and he sounded thrilled and triumphant, not afraid, and then he plunged into the water with a spectacular splash. It wasn’t particularly graceful, but it was definitely impressive, and everyone burst out into cheers. 

Jaehyun stayed underwater for a long time, and Taeyong remembered the first time they’d met, Jaehyun’s much smaller jump, into that slower and quieter stretch of this same river, with only Taeyong there to see it. 

Taeyong barely registered a strange shift in the reflections on the river’s surface, and then Jaehyun burst up close enough to spray him with water. Taeyong sputtered and recoiled. Jaehyun shook his hair out of his face like a dog and grinned at him, and the other kids yelped and laughed and shouted at him to jump again, but Jaehyun kept his eyes on Taeyong’s face for a moment, and he looked so bright and happy and uncomplicated that Taeyong wondered if he’d just been imagining all those other moments when he seemed serious or lost. 

At any rate, it didn’t seem like Jaehyun was hung up on whatever had happened yesterday. Or else he was just waiting for a chance to tease Taeyong mercilessly for it. Which Taeyong probably deserved.

“So?” Jaehyun said. “You gonna jump next?” 

“I don’t like jumping,” Taeyong said. Which wasn’t exactly true. But he didn’t want to climb up there after the show Jaehyun had put on, and have everyone’s eyes shift over to him, expecting another spectacle that he certainly wasn’t going to deliver. 

“Are you scared of heights or something?” 

Taeyong shook his head and rolled his eyes. He could see Doyoung up on the rail now, shouting down to the kids below, and other kids were climbing up too. The activity at the river was resuming its normal flow, kids drifting into their usual groups, picking up the currents of their conversations and their games. It was familiar, and neverending. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong said, abruptly, before he changed his mind. 

Jaehyun looked at him. “What?” 

“About yesterday.” Taeyong glanced over at the riverbank. “That was stupid. I don’t know why I left like that.” 

“It seemed like you left because you were pissed.” 

Taeyong’s eyes snapped back to Jaehyun. He couldn’t tell if he was being made fun of. 

“I mean I don’t know why I was so pissed,” Taeyong said stiffly, or as stiffly as he could while treading water. “You just get to me, or something. But I don’t think… I don’t think it’s actually you. I mean it is you, you are pretty annoying, but I know you’re kidding, and I’m usually not so… I’m usually not like this.” 

“Like what?” Jaehyun said, like it was a genuine question, like he hadn’t noticed how uptight and irritable and lame Taeyong was. 

Taeyong shrugged, ducked his chin beneath the water’s surface. “I’m sorry for yesterday,” he said again. “That’s all I wanted to say.” 

“Well then, me too,” Jaehyun said. “I wasn’t paying attention to what you were saying. I kind of… space out, sometimes.” His brows flickered a little, like he’d kept himself from betraying some expression, but his eyes lightened again quickly. “I don’t think I’ve ever been apologized to so properly before. Like, just by a friend like this? Such a formal apology?” 

“That wasn’t very formal,” Taeyong said, embarrassed again by the sense that he was taking everything too seriously. 

Jaehyun grinned at him. Taeyong’s eye caught on a droplet of water that shook free from Jaehyun’s nose and slid over his upper lip, into his mouth. “You didn’t argue with me calling you a friend. So, we are friends then?” 

“Oh,” Taeyong said. “Do you… want to be?” 

Jaehyun laughed. “No, I’ve just been hanging out with you this whole time because—” He blinked. “Oh, well, yeah, it mostly was because you were the only kid I knew until like two days ago. But what I meant was, yeah, yes, I do want to be friends.”

Taeyong snorted, surprising himself, and Jaehyun looked a little surprised too. “Fine,” Taeyong said. “It’s not like I’ve had much luck getting rid of you.” 

Jaehyun smiled so widely that Taeyong had to fight the sudden strong impulse to sink underwater just to hide his own face and whatever reaction he might betray to a smile so perfect and bright. 

“Honestly,” Taeyong said, trying to recover. “You thought my apology was formal but what is this, like, an official request to be my friend? Are we five?” 

“It didn’t seem like you were gonna get the hint any other way that I actually do like–uh, hanging out with you.” Jaehyun ducked underwater suddenly and resurfaced again with his face tipped back, so his hair smoothed back from his forehead and the water rushed down his skin. 

Taeyong shook his head, smiling a little in spite of himself. He wasn’t sure what there really was to like, considering how unpleasant he’d been in most of the interactions they’d had. But it felt nice anyway, as flustered as he felt, to hear that someone liked his company. And to have that person be Jaehyun. It was refreshing at least not to have to guess. 

~~

The following couple weeks struck Taeyong as some of the most effortless days of his life. His life hadn’t ever been particularly hard, he knew, in the grand scheme of things. Just the usual pains of growing up. Just the usual feelings of being comforted and safe and stifled and trapped in the closeness of River’s Bend, his minuscule world. So maybe his days only returned to the effortlessness they had always had, before Jaehyun disrupted them. Now, though, Jaehyun was a part of his days, and Taeyong discovered that his little world was unexpectedly capable of expanding after all, of growing ever so slightly larger, of accommodating one more person and all his smiles and teasing and confusion and newness.

This was not what he had expected when he first met Jaehyun, and it was certainly not what he’d ever imagined before Jaehyun’s arrival. And he felt a little foolish, for being so easily won over, after he’d tried so hard, at first, to keep his boundaries from stretching even the slightest bit. But all it had really taken, in the end, were those few casual words at the river: I like hanging out with you. Suddenly the teasing wasn’t hard to bear and Jaehyun’s brief lapses into silence or the distant look he’d get in his eyes were just harmless quirks. 

Taeyong worked at the store and was entirely unsurprised when Jaehyun became just as regular a visitor as Doyoung–usually they appeared together, always somehow right when Taeyong was starting to feel hungry and like he needed a break. On Taeyong’s days off, they swam at the bridge, or biked around town, or on one rainy lethargic afternoon sprawled in Doyoung’s living room watching old horror movies. And there was one morning out at the tree again, just Taeyong and Jaehyun there together, hot and tired and content, the sound of Jaehyun’s quiet humming, and Taeyong didn’t wish he was alone. 

And then it was July, and Taeyong’s birthday. 

Taeyong had never really been one for big parties, which was for the best, since big parties weren’t a common occurrence in River’s Bend. Unless you wanted to invite almost everyone, for fear of offending anyone who was left out, it was easier not to bother. But he still liked his birthday. He was never in school for it, and his parents never made him work at the store. They’d make him his favorite foods for breakfast and for dinner, and then there’d be cake–a simple but delicious chocolate one that his father had mastered and made for everyone’s birthdays. Doyoung would usually come over. And that was it, and it was exactly what Taeyong wanted. 

This year, though, Doyoung had decided that just dinner and cake and a few small presents with his family were not enough to mark the momentous occasion of turning eighteen. Taeyong didn’t agree, but Doyoung could be hard to talk out of things, so he redirected his efforts to containing Doyoung’s energy before he really did try to invite the entire town to some sort of banquet in his honor. Luckily, once Doyoung managed to convince–and likely bribe–his older brother into buying him an enormous and suspiciously cheap bottle of whiskey, he decided this would be more than grand enough to mark Taeyong’s passage to adulthood and stopped suggesting an actual party. 

“Jaehyun at least has to come, though,” said Doyoung. 

Taeyong eyed him. They were at the store, the day before his birthday, Doyoung handing up cans of soup to Taeyong who stood on a stepladder to stock the highest shelf. Jaehyun wasn’t there yet, or maybe wouldn’t be coming. Taeyong wasn’t really sure what he did with his time when they weren’t together, who else he talked to, if he’d made other friends. 

“Taeyong,” Doyoung said, withdrawing the can Taeyong had been about to grab.

“What?” Taeyong said, waving his hand impatiently in the direction of the elusive can. “Sure, yes, he can come. I thought he was already coming anyway, like, by default, since he kind of follows you around everywhere now. Why are you looking at me like that?” 

Doyoung just smiled and handed Taeyong the can. “He doesn’t follow me around.” 

Taeyong put the can on the shelf, heard the sliding doors open at the front of the store, and was barely even surprised when he craned his neck around and saw Jaehyun stepping through them. “He literally just walked in. It’s been like five minutes since you got here.” 

“He’s not here for me,” Doyoung said, and before Taeyong could ask what that was supposed to mean, he went on, “So, you’ll do your whole cute family dinner, and then you’ll pretend to go to bed, and then you’ll sneak out—” 

“You realize I’m allowed to leave my house after dark,” Taeyong said. 

“Yes,” said Doyoung impatiently, “But if they know you left , then they’ll want to know when you return , as in before curfew, and probably they’d prefer you not be wasted when you do.”

“ I’d prefer I not be wasted,” Taeyong said. 

“Being wasted isn’t that bad.” 

Taeyong nearly dropped the can he was holding at the sound of Jaehyun’s voice right below the ladder. 

“Wow,” said Doyoung, eyebrows raised in an exaggeratedly scandalized expression. “What do you city kids get up to?” 

Jaehyun snorted. “It was only once. This kid threw a party. You know.” 

“We really don’t,” said Doyoung, looking delighted. “Did you throw up?” 

“Yeah.” 

“That sounds bad to me,” Taeyong said. “Give me that can, we’re almost done.” Doyoung absently handed him the soup he’d forgotten he was holding. “Anyway,” Taeyong continued, “I don’t have a curfew.” 

“Yeah,” Doyoung sighed tragically, “because you never do anything exciting enough to make your parents think you need one.” 

“Because there’s nothing to do around here,” Taeyong said. 

“Kids drink by the river all the time,” Doyoung said. “I’ve invited you!”

“Not interested,” said Taeyong. 

“No, you just know Yuta’s going to be there and you’ve been scared of him since the second grade.” 

“What did Yuta do in second grade?” asked Jaehyun. 

“He—”

“Nothing ,” said Taeyong quickly. “And I’m not scared of him.” 

Doyoung hummed skeptically as he handed Taeyong the next can. 

“But,” Taeyong said casually, “just out of curiosity, you didn’t invite him to this birthday thing, right?” 

Doyoung snorted. “No. Give me some credit, I’m not going to invite someone who terrifies you to your birthday.” 

“He does not terrify me!” Taeyong tried to protest, but Doyoung was still talking. 

“It’s just the three of us. And the spot where kids usually drink and stuff is way downstream by the sledding hill. We’ll go up near the bridge instead, it’ll be late enough that no one else will be around.” 

“Fine,” said Taeyong. 

“I hope you realize,” Doyoung said, leaning around the stepladder to address Jaehyun, “that this is a very exclusive invite you’re getting.”

“I’m truly honored,” Jaehyun said, and when Taeyong made the mistake of glancing down, of course Jaehyun was grinning up at him, dimples and all. 

~~

Taeyong lingered over the crumbs of his birthday cake for as long as he reasonably could. His family had all sat around the living room table for cake and presents–not just his parents and sister, but his cousins and aunts and uncle too. But now everyone who didn’t live in the house had gone home, and his mother was clearing the plates, and his sister was throwing away the torn wrapping paper that had previously covered two books, a new set of headphones, some video games. His phone had buzzed three times in the past fifteen minutes and he knew it was Doyoung, wondering when he’d be finished. Doyoung himself hadn’t come over for dinner this year, and his response when Taeyong’s mother had invited him in the store had been perfectly polite but evasive enough to raise Taeyong’s suspicions. He hoped that, whatever else Doyoung might have planned, he at least hadn’t invited anyone else. 

Taeyong’s hesitation now wasn’t really out of reluctance, though, just nerves. He was excited, a little, at the thought of drinking for the first time, actually drinking, beyond sips here and there from his parents (though he really hoped it wouldn’t end with throwing up like Jaehyun had). And even though he hadn’t wanted a big fuss, he was excited to be doing something a little out of the ordinary for this birthday, a little special. If most of the specialness was due to the unexpected addition in his small circle of friends of a new and particularly attractive boy, well, Taeyong wasn’t too proud to admit it. To himself. In his head. 

“Are you staying up?” Taeyong’s mother asked, hovering at the door before going upstairs. Taeyong blinked and took in the entirely clean and empty living room around him. He could hear footsteps up on the second floor, water running in the bathroom. 

“Oh, yeah. Actually, I’m going to meet up with Doyoung.” Taeyong hesitated, then added, “And Jaehyun.” 

“Oh!” His mother beamed. “That’s nice that you and Doyoung have been spending time with him. It’s not easy to move to a place this small, and after what that boy’s been through, it’s good he’s making friends.” 

“What he’s been through?” Taeyong asked. 

“Oh,” his mother frowned. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…. I ran into his uncle recently, you know Mr. Park, he mentioned he’d seen you all having lunch together. He seemed a little worried about how Jaehyun was doing, how he was adjusting here. But he said he was glad to see you together.” Taeyong’s mother smiled again. “He had nice things to say about you.” 

“Oh, yeah, we saw him the other day,” Taeyong said. He suspected there was more his mother wasn’t saying, but he stood up and went to give her a hug. “Well, I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“Happy Birthday, sweetie. Don’t be home too late,” she kissed his temple, like she always had, except now he had to duck his head a little so she could reach. “And if you end up staying at Doyoung’s make sure you text to let us know. Or they’re both welcome to come over here too—”

“Okay Mom, okay.” Taeyong smiled and tried to ignore the way his stomach flipped at the thought of Jaehyun sleeping here, in his bedroom, in his bed.

Taeyong finally pulled his phone out of his pocket after he softly closed the front door behind him and he was alone in the street. The living room light went off, and then the only lights came from his sister’s and his parent’s rooms on the second floor. The street was empty and quiet and there was only the sound of crickets around, and a muffled TV coming through an open window somewhere. Sure enough, the texts were from Doyoung, asking where he was, and then telling him he and Jaehyun had gone ahead to the river, and then giving detailed instructions so he could find where they were. Not at his tree, thankfully. He’d been a little worried that Jaehyun might have suggested the spot, or might have just assumed Doyoung already knew about it. And Doyoung did know about it, technically–it wasn’t like Taeyong worked to keep it a secret–he had just always understood it was a place Taeyong went to be alone, and never pushed the issue. If Jaehyun had suggested it, it was pretty likely that Doyoung would know enough to turn it down. But maybe Jaehyun liked keeping it to themselves just as much as Taeyong did. There was something pleasant about that thought, something that made Taeyong’s cheeks a little warm. 

He grabbed his bike and headed down the street to the bridge, empty of kids at this hour. Doyoung’s directions had shown they were on the near side of the river, so he leaned his bike up against the bridge’s railing and walked down to the water’s edge. This riverbank didn’t have a path like the opposite one did, apart from the one worn down naturally by all the kids who came here to swim, and there were more trees and saplings and bushes that would make it pointless to ride his bike. He meandered along at the water’s edge, enjoying the warm night, enjoying these last few moments of anticipation before he found his friends and whatever would happen that night could begin. 

They were further upstream than he was expecting, but when he finally caught sight of them he saw why. The trees opened up here, and there was a wide stretch of grass. There were lights strung between some of the trees, mostly on the far side of the clearing, like they had started stringing the lights and then realized they didn’t have nearly enough to go all the way around. There was a blanket spread over the ground and Doyoung was sitting on it, looking at his phone, saying, “Where the hell is he?” 

“I’m right here,” Taeyong said, at the same time as Jaehyun, who he hadn’t noticed standing at the very edge of the water, turned and said, “He’ll be here soon.” 

“Finally!” Doyoung exclaimed, standing up. “Happy Birthday!” He swung out his arm as though to show off what they’d done with the place. 

“Thanks. This is nice,” Taeyong said, trying not to laugh. It wasn’t much, but it still felt extravagant and made him a little embarrassed. 

“We didn’t get enough lights,” Doyoung sighed. 

“I can see that,” Taeyong said, but at Doyoung’s expression he added, “It’s fine! It’s nice as it is, seriously, this really isn’t a big deal.” 

Doyoung looked like he was about to argue but changed his mind. “Come here, come on.” Jaehyun drifted over from the water and the three of them sat down on the blanket, around the bottle of whiskey which had tipped over onto its side. Doyoung screwed off the top and poured it into three plastic cups and passed them around. 

“It’s not midnight yet,” Doyoung said, lifting his cup, “So it’s still your birthday. So, uh, Happy Birthday, you’re pretty great, please don’t forget me now that you’re an adult. Cheers!” 

Taeyong snorted and eyed his cup. Doyoung had already sipped his and was now shuddering dramatically. He glanced at Jaehyun, and found him watching him, his cup half raised to his own mouth. 

Jaehyun smiled. “It’s not that bad,” he said, gesturing at Taeyong’s cup. Taeyong looked at him doubtfully and he laughed and shrugged. “Happy Birthday,” he said, staring right at Taeyong, and then he tipped his head back and took a large swallow from his cup. Taeyong watched his throat move. 

Taeyong swirled the golden liquid around. The moon was out and huge and its light glimmered weirdly where it caught the ripples of the whiskey, and the larger ripples out in the river, and the edges of the leaves and every blade of grass. Taeyong knew his tree wasn’t so far away, on the opposite bank; it might even have been visible in daylight but now he couldn’t make it out. The smell of the whiskey was strong and sweet and smoky and burned his nostrils slightly when he finally tipped the cup up to his mouth, and took a sip. He could feel the heat of it all the way down the back of his throat. He took another swallow, larger, too much really; his face screwed up automatically and his eyes prickled. A soft laugh made him look over, blinking. Jaehyun was looking at him again. He found he really didn’t mind at all.

~~~~~

Jaehyun was tipsy, or maybe drunk. Probably drunk, but a tired, easy kind of drunk, past the yelling and giggling and singing and arm wrestling phases they’d already gone through. They hadn’t had a cake for Taeyong but they’d stuck eighteen candles in the dirt and lit them; now all that was left were little pools of hardened wax like scabs. The night air was warm and he could feel sweat prickling across the tops of his cheeks and along his spine when his shirt fluttered in the breeze. The moonlight made everything a little surreal, otherworldly. It was never dark enough back home for the moon to really shine on anything like this. He’d seen the moon millions of times, but he wasn’t sure he’d ever really seen moon light until he came here. It was eerie and beautiful and made him feel strange, the cool light at odds with the heat inside him from the alcohol and from Taeyong’s nearness. 

Taeyong was lying on his back beside him with one hand behind his head. The other hand rested on the blanket close to Jaehyun’s leg. Jaehyun knew this because that was how Taeyong had been lying the last time Jaehyun had allowed himself to fully look at him. He’d been rationing out how often he looked. It had become something like a game now, in this quiet part of the night, except he was taking it very seriously, so maybe it was more like a set of rules: every time he looked at Taeyong, he had to look at five other things before he could look over at him again. This was how he had noticed the moonlight, and what it did to the rocks and the trees and the slow flowing river. Spending too much time looking at what the moonlight did to Taeyong’s face was a little too much to bear.

He’d thought he’d been getting used to Taeyong’s face, in the past weeks. They’d seen each other nearly every day and it had stopped feeling like such a shock when they did. And Taeyong had seemed considerably less irritated by him, which Jaehyun felt was a significant victory. They really were friends now, Jaehyun supposed. Which was nice. But now with the alcohol and the late hour and the way Taeyong’s smiles had gotten looser and more frequent with every sip of whiskey, until Jaehyun was certain he’d seen Taeyong smile more tonight than he had in the entire time since he’d arrived in River’s Bend–now Jaehyun couldn’t quite let himself look at Taeyong’s face or he thought he’d probably ruin their friendship when it was only just getting started. He wasn’t sure exactly what he would do to ruin it–he refused to think about what he wanted to do beyond stare–but he knew whatever it was would be a mistake. Even just staring as much as he wanted would probably scare Taeyong off for good. But he really did have such a remarkable face. 

“Look up at the sky,” Taeyong said. His voice was soft, not slurred but a little stretched out, a little less sharp than usual. Jaehyun tipped back his head and looked up. “No,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun jumped at the feel of Taeyong’s fingers clutching his shirt, and then he was yanked backwards, until he landed next to Taeyong. “Like this,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun looked over at him, startled, which was risky, so he looked back up at the sky, and then over to his other side where Doyoung lay curled up on the blanket. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun hissed. “You asleep?” He felt Taeyong lift his head to look over too. 

“He’s definitely asleep,” Taeyong said, and snorted a little as he dropped his head back down. 

Jaehyun looked back at the sky and could only think about the fact that now Taeyong’s knuckles were resting softly against his own, where their hands lay on the blanket. It was an accident, definitely. But it felt just a little like holding hands. I want… oh god, I want to hold his hand. The thought came to him so suddenly and sharply that he couldn’t even pretend not to have thought it.

Jaehyun tried to focus on the stars. Taeyong was pointing them out, gesturing with the hand that wasn’t touching Jaehyun’s. He knew some of the constellations. Maybe that was inevitable, when you’d grown up in a place where you could actually see the night sky. 

“There’s so many,” Jaehyun said, and felt like an idiot. 

But Taeyong just said, “Yeah,” in an appreciative tone, awed and almost proud, like he had created the stars himself and was happy someone else had noticed. 

Jaehyun looked over at him, at Taeyong’s profile etched by the moonlight, a fond smile on his lips as he gazed up at the sky. Risky. “You like it here, don’t you?” he asked. 

Taeyong’s eyes slid over to Jaehyun and back up to the sky without turning his head. “I guess. Sometimes. Some parts.” 

“Which parts?” 

“The parts like this. The empty parts. When I can be alone.” 

“You’re not alone now.” 

“You know what I mean.” 

Jaehyun didn’t, really. “You ever think about leaving?” 

“Sure, for college.” 

Jaehyun was a little surprised by how easily Taeyong said it. This place had felt so separate from anywhere else, since he’d arrived. And he’d leaned into that feeling, he saw now: he wanted this town to be his escape, to be nothing like where he’d been before so he wouldn’t have to feel the things he’d been feeling before he came. He wanted this place to be completely removed from the rest of the world and from everything that hurt. But of course it was just a town, not far from a highway that could take you anywhere else. Of course Taeyong wasn’t bound here. 

“Right,” Jaehyun said. His knuckles twitched against Taeyong’s. He pretended it wasn’t on purpose. 

“It’s pretty different for you, right? Living in a place like this, compared to where you lived before?” 

That was an understatement. “Yeah,” said Jaehyun. “I’ve never been anywhere like this before.” 

“Do you like it?” 

Jaehyun looked at Taeyong again. Taeyong kept looking straight up at the sky, so Jaehyun allowed himself to stare a little longer. Not as long as he wanted to. “Yeah,” he said, and looked back at the stars. “I didn’t think I would. But I do.”  

“Don’t you miss home?” Taeyong asked. “Your parents and friends and stuff.” 

“My best friend died,” Jaehyun said. It took a moment, after the words came out, to realize he’d said them out loud, and another moment after that to realize this meant that Taeyong had heard him. That Taeyong knew, now. A wave of nausea twisted suddenly in his gut. He hadn’t meant to say that. He hadn’t meant to think about that happening at all. 

“Shit,” Taeyong said. Which was a terrible thing to say, but somehow a little less terrible than the other things he might have said, the things Jaehyun had been hearing endlessly since it had happened. “How? I mean, nevermind, you don’t have to—”

“Car accident,” Jaehyun said, and then realized he’d said it, and then realized Taeyong had heard. He hadn’t wanted to be this person here, the person who had lost his best friend and therefore could only be pitied. But he couldn’t quite stop talking. He thought the words themselves should have hurt, that letting these words go after keeping them inside for so long should have been accompanied by some physical sensation, some agony, his organs being yanked out of his throat along with the sound. But the words came out like nothing, like any other words, now that he was saying them. “It wasn’t anything crazy. It was just raining. He was on the highway and skidded into the other lane, and there was a truck that couldn’t stop in time. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. The truck wasn’t even speeding. It just happened, and he died.” 

Taeyong didn’t say anything at all to that. Jaehyun couldn’t blame him. He had no idea why he couldn’t shut up. But after a moment Taeyong moved his hand and laid it on top of Jaehyun’s, not holding it, exactly, just resting his fingers on top of Jaehyun’s own. It was pity, Jaehyun knew, but it was also Taeyong’s hand, touching his own, on purpose. 

“Don’t tell anyone,” Jaehyun whispered. “Please.” He felt like throwing up and he also felt, equally and at the exact same time, a swooping thrill at the feel of Taeyong’s warm palm. And below all that there was something else, something he hated and pretended not to feel, a shameful edge of desire for the boy beside him and for the one who had died. 

“I won’t,” said the boy beside him. 

“Not even—”

“I won’t tell anyone,” Taeyong said. “I wouldn’t do that.” 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun said. “I really didn’t mean to tell you that. Or tell anyone that, ever.” 

“Why did you tell me then?” 

“I mean, probably the whiskey.” Which was the easiest answer. 

“Oh right.” 

Jaehyun thought, from the sound of Taeyong’s voice, that he might have been trying not to laugh, and when he glanced over at him sure enough he could see an amused sort of tightness in his face. Which was sort of messed up, to be almost-laughing at a time like this. But it didn’t feel messed up. Maybe because Taeyong was also almost-holding his hand. 

“Sorry this kind of ruined your birthday.” 

“It’s not my birthday anymore, technically,” said Taeyong. 

“Well, sorry I ruined your today, then.” 

Taeyong let out a breath. “You didn’t. Why would you apologize for something horrible happening to you?” 

“I’m not–that’s not—” Jaehyun flinched, flustered. “I just meant I shouldn’t have said anything, at a time like this.”

Taeyong looked at him then, fiercely. Even in the dim light Jaehyun could feel the intensity of his gaze. He had never been looked at like that before, and he definitely had never been looked at like that before while lying down, while lying side by side with someone he found so beautiful. The lying down felt suddenly very significant.

“Would there have been a better time to talk about your best friend dying?” Taeyong asked. His voice was still quiet–Doyoung was still soundly asleep behind them–but it was now more of a hiss than a whisper. Jaehyun felt it in his chest, sharply, wounding. 

“No, no, you’re right. I never should have—”

“I meant,” Taeyong made a frustrated sound. “Fuck, Jaehyun, your friend died. Who cares about my birthday, or my any day? That’s what I meant. I mean, okay, I spend a lot of my time alone or wishing I was alone and I have no idea how to be comforting or what to say to make anything about that feel better for you, and I can tell by your face that you’re regretting saying anything because you’ve realized by now that I’m the worst person you could have told, but still. You wanted to say it, so you said it, and that’s just… fine, okay? That’s fine. You’re allowed to do that. It’s okay.” 

Jaehyun stared, for once not mesmerized by Taeyong’s face but simply shocked. “Oh,” he said. And then, focusing on the only detail he seemed to have caught in what might have been the most words Taeyong had ever said to him at once: “No. You’re not the worst person to have told.”

Taeyong blinked, and then he made a sound a little like a laugh, and then he looked back up at the sky. Jaehyun did too. The horizon was starting to lighten in the east, ever so slightly. 

“Do you think I might still be drunk?” Taeyong asked, putting the back of his hand against his forehead. His other hand still rested on Jaehyun’s, it hadn’t moved at all. “I think I’m still drunk.” 

Jaehyun hummed. “Sure, if you want to say you’re still drunk after basically yelling at me in order to make me feel better, I won’t point out that you haven’t had a sip of whiskey in hours.” 

“Did it work?” Taeyong asked. 

“What?”

“Do you… feel better?” Taeyong looked a little apologetic, like he knew the answer was no, but he was also smiling, gently. Maybe with pity, but then again maybe not. 

Jaehyun thought about it. The sky grew a little lighter. His smile faded and so did Taeyong’s, and they looked at the sky and were quiet. New birds started chirping with even this faint hint of dawn. Jaehyun couldn’t quite bring himself to say he felt better, and he wasn’t sure if it was because he really didn’t, or because he did and felt he shouldn’t. Nothing had really changed, after all. Haru was still dead. Feeling better wasn’t an option. And yet. 

He kept his eyes up on the fading stars, and turned his hand over, carefully, nervously, thinking Taeyong would flinch and pull away at any moment. But he didn’t, and Jaehyun curled his fingers around Taeyong’s and held his hand, really held it. And maybe he didn’t feel better, but Taeyong’s hand in his own felt very warm, and very nice. 

~~

When Jaehyun woke up the next morning–actually, past noon–a number of realizations accompanied his very gradual arrival into consciousness. First he noticed how well-rested he felt. His head was clear, his bed had never seemed so comfortable. He’d been wondering if he’d be hungover, but either he hadn’t actually drank very much after all, or sleeping for twelve hours had a remarkable healing effect. Or he was just young enough to avoid the hangovers that were probably waiting for him in his future, as his older cousin who tended to overindulge at any family gathering always grimly threatened.

Then, as he blinked only one eye open in the bright sunlit room, other realizations came to him simultaneously: He liked Taeyong. And he had told Taeyong about Haru, that Haru had died. His stomach dropped with each of these thoughts. He opened his other eye and stared blankly at the ceiling, trying to stay objective. Trying not to panic. At least he wasn’t confused, or deluding himself. It was mature of him, wasn’t it? To acknowledge that he had a crush. That was what normal, emotionally intelligent people did, right? And what was the harm, anyway? When it came right down to it, how could he not have fallen for a face like that? Although, maybe Taeyong’s face wasn’t a good enough reason to like him. Maybe he was being totally shallow. 

But there had to be something more there that had made Jaehyun say what he had said. That had made him tell Taeyong something tragic and depressing that he hadn’t ever meant to admit. Unless Jaehyun was just a mess who spilled all his secrets after a few sips of alcohol. He should probably never drink again. He’d gotten buzzed and dumped this awful burden on Taeyong, someone he’d only known for a few weeks. And, oh god, Taeyong hadn’t even wanted to hang out with him in the first place. He’d just bothered Taeyong to the point that he’d given up and let him stick around. Was he some kind of stalker who refused to take a hint? Not even hints–Jaehyun had to cover his face with his hands–Taeyong had literally told him, multiple times, to go away . What kind of idiot was he? What right did he have to tell Taeyong something like that , and put him in a position that forced him to provide comfort to some kid he just wished would leave him alone?

But… Taeyong had comforted him. Awkwardly, maybe. But that was how Jaehyun had felt: comforted. Safe. Just from the touch of Taeyong’s hand. Maybe he really was shallow, if that was all it took. Maybe Taeyong had just been trying to get him to shut up, and didn’t know what else to do…. No–Taeyong let Jaehyun hold his hand, really hold it, and didn’t pull away. That had to mean something. Jaehyun wasn’t so bold as to think it meant Taeyong returned all of his feelings, but he thought–hoped–it might be safe to think that Taeyong cared about him to some extent, at least. That the past couple weeks they’d spent together hadn’t just been Taeyong suffering in bitter silence at Jaehyun’s constant presence. Maybe he should give Taeyong some space, though. He didn’t want to irritate Taeyong past the point of patience. But–shit–he didn’t want to give him space. He wanted to hold his hand again. He wanted to kiss his eyelids and his lips. He wanted to hold him very tightly until neither of them could breathe and nothing hurt anymore. 

“Fuck.” He rolled onto his stomach and tried very hard to talk himself out of getting an erection, but this was already a losing battle, so instead he tried to rationalize it–he’d just woken up, it was simply a biological response, it had nothing whatsoever to do with the absolute mess of thoughts spinning through his head. He swore again, and got up to go take a shower. 

When he finally made it downstairs, his thoughts had at least settled down a bit, and he was able to reply in what he thought was a totally normal voice to Changmin, who greeted him from where he was reading on the couch. His uncle gave him his usual cautious smile. 

“Did you have a good night?” 

“Oh.” Jaehyun flinched a little, realizing how late it had been when he’d returned–how early, since the sun had already been rising when he’d stumbled in. He’d never have gotten away with this when he was living with his parents. He wouldn’t even have tried, and he felt a little guilty now for taking advantage of his uncle, even though he hadn’t thought of it like that at the time–he hadn’t really thought of his uncle at all. “Yeah. Sorry I got back… late.” 

“Doyoung’s mother called me, and so did Taeyong’s.” Changmin looked a little surprised by this himself. “They let me know you were all together. It was Taeyong’s birthday?” 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, awkwardly. “We just went down by the river and hung out.” 

“That’s nice,” Changmin said, and he looked like he meant it, though he also looked like he was debating saying something more. 

“What?” Jaehyun finally asked, uneasy. 

“Oh, um, well,” Changmin said. “You should let me know too, where you are, when you’ll be home. Things like that. And reply when I text you. I already told you that.” It seemed to take a lot out of him to say it, to be stern, though his voice was still nearly as soft as it always was. 

“Right, sorry,” Jaehyun said. “I honestly forgot, and I didn’t see my phone.” Probably because he’d been drinking something that was still totally illegal for him to drink. He decided not to mention that.

Changmin gave an apologetic smile, although Jaehyun was pretty sure the only one who needed to be apologizing was him. “I know I’m not exactly… well, I’m not exactly your family. And I don’t really know what types of rules there should be, if you should have a curfew, or….” He trailed off, apparently unable to even imagine any other kind of rule. “Just let me know where you are. I know it’s different here. And I trust Doyoung and Taeyong. And you, I trust you, too. But it’s still up to me to keep you safe, so, please.” 

“Yeah, no, I know, I’m really sorry Uncle Changmin. Seriously. I won’t do that again. I know it’s a lot for you to have me here.” 

This made Changmin sit up, looking startled. “It’s not–it’s lovely to have you here.” And then he looked at Jaehyun, seemingly equally taken aback by his own outburst, if his quiet words could really be described that way.

“Oh,” said Jaehyun. “Thanks. Uh. I like it here too.” He smiled, and then laughed; there was something suddenly comical about the situation, about his timid uncle who needed so much reassurance from the kid he was supposed to be caring for. He stifled his laughter quickly. “Sorry,” he said again, trying to keep a straight face.

To his surprise, Changmin smiled back, a little embarrassed, as though he too recognized the absurdity of their situation. Jaehyun wasn’t sure he’d ever been smiled at like that by an adult before, as though they were in on the joke together, as though they were both on equal footing, figuring things out. It probably wasn’t great that his uncle’s uncertainty about his own authority was so apparent. But it felt good anyway. He told himself he’d be a better guest. A better nephew. He found that he wanted his uncle to feel like he was doing a good job. He wanted them to feel like they were both okay after all.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Sundays were always busy at the store, and since it wasn’t Taeyong’s birthday anymore he had no excuse not to show up at work, rather more groggily than usual. He hadn’t been able to endure much of the burn of the whiskey, or the awful taste, which was probably for the best, because he hadn’t drunk very much in the end. He’d certainly felt drunk, and that part he hadn’t minded: the warmth, the looseness, the giddiness and then the contented sleepiness. But he wasn’t sure that was worth suffering through whiskey, ever again. Still, he hadn’t gotten home until sunrise, and while the store opened later on Sunday than the rest of the week, that just meant ten o’clock instead of eight. So he was tired, scanning customers’ purchases in a daze as they glided endlessly toward him down the conveyer belt. 

A few thoughts penetrated the haze in his mind: making sure he wasn’t mischarging the customers, smiling at the inevitable small town talk that floated around. The feel of Jaehyun’s slender fingers curled around his hand, the way Jaehyun’s cheeks flushed as he got drunk. The fact that Jaehyun’s friend had died. He could feel all his memories of their time together shifting to accommodate this new information: Had Jaehyun been thinking of his friend? Was he sad? Was every one of his pretty smiles fake? 

These thoughts slid into Taeyong’s defenseless tired mind, along with the little thrill he’d felt at Jaehyun’s closeness and the feel of his skin, and he knew what that probably meant, but he didn’t examine it too closely. He wasn’t in denial, it just didn’t matter, wasn’t worth pursuing. It wasn’t like he would do anything about it. This had been something he’d understood ever since his first crush, when he’d been just a kid, on one of Doyoung’s brother’s friends. Dating, relationships, love, all of it was for when he grew up, and growing up meant–had always meant, to him–leaving River’s Bend. It had nothing to do with the fact that he wanted to date boys (or maybe it had a little to do with that, but just a little). He just wanted to be somewhere else, somewhere bigger, where he could date someone who wouldn’t already know his entire family and had never seen him with braces in fifth grade. Where he could make whatever choices he wanted, and people would accept them because they hadn’t already decided who he was. Where he could make mistakes. 

He shook himself, blinking at the bottle of Coke rolling down the conveyer belt to be scanned. It was fine that he didn’t want to pursue anything, it was good that he didn’t, because that wasn’t really what mattered. Jaehyun’s best friend had died . And here Taeyong was getting butterflies over the touch of his hand, a hand he had only touched because he was trying to comfort him, because his best friend was dead. Taeyong had to be deranged for even thinking about it any other way, for having the audacity to get even the slightest bit excited over it.

“Um, are you going to ring me up?”

Taeyong jumped so violently as he was yanked out of his thoughts that he knocked the Coke bottle right off the conveyer belt. 

“Jaehyun!” Taeyong blushed as he registered who stood in front of him, his pulse quick with surprise and embarrassment and something else. 

Jaehyun smiled. “That’s me.” 

Taeyong peered at his face and tried to tell if his smile looked false, if his eyes looked sad, if he looked like a person in mourning. What did people in mourning look like? 

Taeyong ducked behind the register to pick up the Coke. “Uh, you should probably get another one of these, or it’ll explode on you. Sorry.” 

Jaehyun leaned over the conveyer belt, and Taeyong leaned back, startled again, his face hot. But Jaehyun just lowered his voice and asked, “Are you hungover?” 

“No,” said Taeyong quickly. 

“You were totally out of it.” Jaehyun straightened, grinning, teasing. He seemed totally normal. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?” Jaehyun asked, reaching up to touch his own face. And then– there– his smile slipped a little. Taeyong felt almost triumphant. Here was a glimpse of Jaehyun’s true feelings, his true self, his sadness. Proof he hadn’t imagined what Jaehyun had told him last night. 

Abruptly, Jaehyun stepped back, his smile completely gone now, but the expression that replaced it wasn’t something Taeyong could read–his eyes perhaps had widened, his cheeks maybe a bit flushed, but then again maybe not. 

“I gotta go,” Jaehyun said, and before Taeyong could say anything he turned and left. Was he walking faster than usual? The bright sun glaring off the sidewalk outside swallowed Jaehyun up as soon as he passed through the glass doors. Taeyong blinked after him, still holding the bottle of Coke. 

He turned to the next customer, feeling considerably more awake than before, but no more focused on his work. Now his thoughts were consumed with replaying everything that had just happened, every word Jaehyun had said, the tone of his voice, the way he’d smiled, the way he’d stopped smiling. The butterflies in Taeyong’s stomach worked themselves into a nauseating frenzy. 

~~

Taeyong didn’t see Jaehyun again for three days, except once from a distance: Taeyong was in his tree on a day off, and he saw Jaehyun biking towards him down the path, the telltale dust cloud from his wheels. And then he watched as Jaehyun stopped, the dust carrying forward past him and obscuring him from view for a moment. When the dust settled enough that Taeyong could see him again, he was biking back the way he had come. 

Taeyong had no idea what had changed, what he’d done, and he made himself dizzy dissecting every possibility. He even caved and asked Doyoung about it, although that meant admitting he cared, and also admitting he was worried he had done something wrong, neither of which he wanted to admit. But on the evening of the third day with no word from Jaehyun, when Taeyong had joined Doyoung at the bridge to swim after he got off work, he couldn’t take it anymore. He’d been hoping Doyoung would be a good distraction, compared to being left alone to cycle through all the same thoughts yet again, but seeing him only made him think of how so recently all three of them had been spending time together and it had been starting to feel like the most natural thing in the world. 

“Hey,” Taeyong managed finally, as they floated out some distance away from anyone else who might be listening. “Have you seen Jaehyun lately?”

Doyoung seemed to actually have to think about it. “Guess not,” he said after a moment. “Not since your birthday. Why?” 

“Me neither,” said Taeyong. Doyoung didn’t say anything. “Do you think I pissed him off or something?” 

“Do you think you pissed him off?” Taeyong glared and splashed at Doyoung, who laughed. “I’m serious!” Doyoung said, shaking his hair out of his eyes. “I can’t think of anything you did but how would I know what awful things you got up to when I wasn’t around?” 

“I don’t get up to anything awful,” muttered Taeyong, which made Doyoung laugh again. 

The problem was, Taeyong had thought of something he’d done, the only thing he’d done out of the ordinary, and therefore the only possible reason for Jaehyun’s sudden avoidance: touching his hand. Sure, in the moment he hadn’t realized he’d crossed any lines, and Jaehyun had even held his hand in return, but they’d been drinking. Hadn’t Jaehyun even said the only reason he’d told Taeyong about his friend’s death was because of the whiskey? Taeyong had thought that was a joke–it sounded lighthearted enough–but maybe the next day Jaehyun sobered up and regretted telling him at all, and saw Taeyong’s pitiful attempt at comfort in a different, less welcome light. 

He couldn’t tell Doyoung any of this, not without telling him what Jaehyun had shared, which was out of the question. So he just brooded and worried and barely tried to hide it in front of Doyoung, who at least didn’t pry. When they were leaving, though, walking together through the still sunlit evening towards their houses, Doyoung spoke up. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 

They hadn’t spoken about Jaehyun in the past hour by that point, but Taeyong didn’t need to ask to know who Doyoung meant. 

“Don’t you think he’s avoiding me for a reason?” 

Doyoung shrugged. “You won’t know what’s going on unless you ask.” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong said vaguely. 

Doyoung tilted his head then, and Taeyong followed where his gaze was clearly pointing: they were passing the street that led up to Mr. Park’s house. 

“Now?” Taeyong realized he was whispering, as though Jaehyun might be close enough to overhear. 

“Why not?” 

Taeyong looked up the street, uneasy. 

Doyoung elbowed him gently. “The worst that will happen is he tells you he doesn’t want to be friends, right?” 

Taeyong kept staring up the street instead of looking at Doyoung. “That’d be pretty bad,” he said quietly. 

Doyoung sighed sympathetically. “Well, yeah.” 

They stood together for a while, Taeyong looking up the street, debating with himself. He knew Doyoung wasn’t one to offer false comfort, but he sort of wished he would have told him it must all have been a misunderstanding, that there wouldn’t be anything wrong, that all he had to do was go up to that house and everything would go back to the way it had been. 

“Look,” Doyoung said finally, “Go talk to him. There are like a million possibilities right now and most of them probably have nothing to do with you at all. I mean, we barely even know him, right? Don’t take this the wrong way, but how important could you even be at this point to really have made him so upset?” 

Taeyong shot Doyoung a look. “You really have such a way of reassuring me.” 

Doyoung grinned. “But I’m not wrong.” 

Taeyong looked back up the street, and had to admit he did feel cautiously reassured. Doyoung was right, it was pretty bold of Taeyong to assume Jaehyun even cared that much about what he said or did. Maybe in the store he’d just suddenly remembered somewhere he needed to be. And maybe when he saw Taeyong at the tree he turned away just because he’d felt like being totally alone that day, not because he hated the sight of Taeyong specifically. That all sounded possible, at least, if not particularly convincing. 

“Fine,” Taeyong said, with a certainty he didn’t feel. “I’ll see you later.” 

Doyoung nodded and gave his shoulder a squeeze before heading off down the street, his shadow elongated behind him. Taeyong turned and started up the sidestreet before he lost his nerve. When he reached Jaehyun’s uncle’s house, he hesitated. He couldn’t see any lights on inside but the sun hadn’t set yet in the long summer evening, so that didn’t mean much. He approached the front door, his nerves compounded now by the realization that he was going to also have to talk to Mr. Park, whom he barely knew. He raised his hand and rang the bell. 

He hoped for a moment that no one was home, and then when there really was a beat of silence after the echo of the bell faded, he changed his mind and hoped someone would come to the door so he could at least get this over with. If Jaehyun didn’t want to talk to him anymore, well, at least he’d know. Then footsteps sounded behind the door and a moment later it opened, revealing Mr. Park. 

“Oh, hello Taeyong.” Mr. Park smiled. At least it didn’t appear that Jaehyun had confessed any of Taeyong’s potential wrongdoings to his uncle. 

“Hi Mr. Park,” Taeyong said, shifting his weight. “Um, is Jaehyun here?” 

“Yes,” Mr. Park looked surprised. “I think–” he leaned back into the house for a moment, craning his head toward the stairs leading to the second floor– “he’s upstairs. You can head up if you want.” 

“Oh, um.” Taeyong faltered. He’d been imagining that Jaehyun would come to the door, that they would be able to have this conversation on the front steps, in safe and relatively neutral territory. Entering Jaehyun’s space seemed risky, especially if Jaehyun might now hate the sight of him. But he heard himself saying okay, and then he was walking up the stairs, heading for the room right at the top, as Mr. Park had instructed. 

The door of the room was wide open, and when he nervously peeked inside, there was no one there. He scanned the space. It was bare, a rarely-used guest room that now looked as though it held just that–a guest. There were two suitcases open on the floor, with clothes strewn around, and some clothes still folded, clearly untouched since they were first packed. The bed was unmade, two decorative pillows had been tossed on the floor and the blankets were halfway to joining them. Jaehyun’s phone lay charging amid the sheets. 

“Taeyong?”

Taeyong jumped, thinking ridiculously for a moment of knocking that bottle of Coke off the counter at the store, the last time Jaehyun had startled him, the last time they’d spoken. And then he wasn’t thinking anything at all, because Jaehyun was standing in the hall behind him with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. 

“Um, I, um, your uncle said I could come up,” Taeyong managed, nervous, embarrassed. What was he doing here again?  

“Sure. Uh, give me a minute.” Jaehyun edged past Taeyong into his room. Taeyong could smell his shampoo, imagined he could feel the steam still rising off Jaehyun’s shoulder as it passed close to his face. There were droplets of water clinging to the ends of Jaehyun’s hair and sliding down between his shoulder blades. Taeyong couldn’t breathe. 

The door clicked closed, releasing Taeyong from whatever the moment had been. He nearly sagged against the doorframe, but some shred of dignity kept him upright. He could hear Jaehyun moving around inside his room and tried very hard not to think about what he was doing. Which was getting dressed, which was a ridiculous thing to feel so stressed about. Especially when they’d gone swimming together a dozen times by then; it wasn’t like Taeyong hadn’t seen Jaehyun shirtless and wet before. And here he was going weak in the knees over a bare shoulder and the smell of some soap. 

The door swung open again and Taeyong barely managed not to flinch. Jaehyun gestured inside and Taeyong stepped past him into the room. The scent of the shower had thankfully faded now that Jaehyun was fully dressed.

“Sorry it’s kind of a mess,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong noticed he’d made some attempt at straightening up while the door had been closed: the pillows were back on the bed and the blankets had been yanked up; the suitcases were closed, with the clothes that had been on the floor presumably now inside them. “You can sit, if you want. Wherever.” 

“Wherever” meant either the bed or the desk chair, which had not been cleared of its own heap of clothes. Jaehyun followed Taeyong’s gaze and rushed to grab those clothes and throw them onto one of the suitcases with another hasty apology. Taeyong noticed that his ears were pink, though that was probably from the shower. He sat down and Jaehyun sat on the edge of his bed. 

“So what are you doing here?” Jaehyun asked. 

“Have you been avoiding me?” Taeyong said, and winced at his own bluntness. 

“What?” 

“If I freaked you out or something I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. I just didn’t know what else to do.” Taeyong trailed off. He was definitely making this worse. He shouldn’t have brought up the hand-holding so quickly, or at all.

“No,” Jaehyun said hesitantly. “No, I mean, I get it. Of course you’d think differently now, about me.” 

Taeyong froze. Think differently? Had Jaehyun really guessed what he thought about him, what he felt? Just from the way he’d touched his hand? The only viable option was denial, he decided. 

“I don’t think differently about you?” Taeyong wanted to kick himself for letting it sound like a question. 

Jaehyun just looked at him for a moment, with exactly the unimpressed expression you’d give someone who was trying to play dumb and failing miserably at it. “You can just forget everything I said,” Jaehyun said finally. His voice had gone oddly flat. “Just go back to knowing nothing about me, okay? This is exactly why I didn’t mean to say anything.” 

“Wait, what?” 

“I can see it,” Jaehyun said, his face turned away towards the window. The late sun was slanting in and tinted his skin, a last burst of brilliant gold. 

Taeyong fidgeted and then cringed when the old wooden chair squeaked loudly beneath him, though Jaehyun didn’t look up or even seem to register the noise. “See… what?” he finally asked. It felt as though his entire stomach had risen up into his throat. He had no idea why he was forcing Jaehyun to say something out loud that was better left unsaid: that he’d noticed the effect he was having on Taeyong, that he’d seen the way Taeyong looked at him a little too closely or a little too long, that he’d felt the way Taeyong’s pulse had quickened when he touched his hand. That it freaked him out, that it was gross. That Taeyong should stay away from him. 

“Pity,” Jaehyun bit out. 

Taeyong had been so certain of what he was about to hear that it took longer than it should have to even process the word, to link it to any kind of meaning. “What?” 

Jaehyun continued talking to the window. “I mean, I can’t even blame you. Of course you’d feel sorry for me. I’m the one who messed up, by saying anything. I just… I didn’t think you’d just remind me of it, as soon as I saw you.” 

“What are you talking about?” Taeyong said. He was completely at a loss now. He hadn’t said anything about what Jaehyun had told him that night. He’d barely even seen Jaehyun since his birthday. 

Jaehyun turned and looked at him fiercely. “The way you looked at me! I could see it, it was so fucking obvious. Like you were examining me, to see how fucked up I must be. Like that’s all that matters about me now, this tragedy you don’t even know anything about. Like I’m fucking pathetic.”

“No, I—” Taeyong stopped, recoiled. He had done that, hadn’t he? He had been looking at Jaehyun differently when he’d come into the store, just there to buy a drink, laughing and smiling and talking to him like always, and Taeyong had only been thinking about what Jaehyun had told him, about how awful it all was. 

“I was just getting a drink,” Jaehyun said, as though he could hear Taeyong’s thoughts. He scrubbed a hand through his damp hair. “I was–fuck–I was even looking forward to seeing you. But then it was weird and I just…. I thought this could all be a fresh start or something and I fucked that up. I didn’t want anyone to know for a reason. I should have remembered that, even with you.” 

Taeyong just stared at the top of Jaehyun’s bowed head. He felt that he should leave, or that at any moment Jaehyun would tell him to get out. He almost wished he would, because it would save him from having to think of something to say, some way to fix this. His stomach hurt. He couldn’t believe how little time had passed since he’d first met Jaehyun, that it had only been a matter of weeks, and yet it was possible to hurt this much over whatever it was that was happening. 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong said, and it felt like such a meaningless thing to say. “You’re… right. I was thinking about you differently. I was thinking about that, when I saw you at the store. It just felt so big, what happened to your friend. I can’t even imagine–” He stood up. “I know I can’t un-know it but I’ll never tell anyone else. You can still have a fresh start here. And I hope if you decide to tell someone else, it’ll be someone better than me. I’m really, really sorry.” 

He stopped talking, and it was quiet, and Jaehyun’s head was still down. So he shoved his hands in his pockets and walked quickly out of the room, down the stairs, out the front door. He walked down the street, and as soon as a curve put him out of sight of the house he started to run, he ran all the way home, wondering why he kept finding himself running away when all he’d really wanted to do was wrap his arms around Jaehyun’s shoulders and never let go. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun stared at his empty bedroom doorway for a long time. He could feel the surprise on his face–eyebrows raised, eyes wide, his lips even slightly parted, as though he’d been about to call after Taeyong–but he had the uneasy sense that the expression was exaggerated, that it showed an emotion much stronger than what he actually felt, which was just a dazed sort of nothingness. Maybe this was for the best. He’d definitely been getting more invested than was normal in a person he still barely knew. He couldn’t even get a handle on his own feelings, let alone expect to extend them to anyone else. He’d felt good telling Taeyong about Haru’s death down at the river, and even the next day he hadn’t immediately regretted it. But as soon as he saw with his own eyes the way this information had changed Taeyong’s perception of him, he’d freaked out and wished he could take it all back. The sick thing was, he wasn’t even sure if it had anything to do with his feelings about Haru, with his grief, or if he just got scared of Taeyong seeing any side of him that wasn’t cool, wasn’t likable and lighthearted and strong. 

So it was definitely for the best, that Taeyong clearly didn’t feel the same way, that he had left, that they wouldn’t get too close after all. Maybe what Taeyong had said about a fresh start was right. River’s Bend was small but it wasn’t so small that Taeyong was the only kid worth befriending. Unfortunately steering clear of Taeyong probably meant he’d ruled Doyoung out as a friend too, but still, there were more kids. He just hadn’t paid much attention to anyone else yet, since he’d gotten a little too focused on Taeyong. 

But… fuck. 

Jaehyun flopped backwards onto his bed and then, comically fast, sat up again at the sound of his uncle’s voice. 

“Jaehyun? Did Taeyong leave?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Didn’t you ask him to stay for dinner?” 

“Uh, no, I didn’t,” Jaehyun said, stomach twisting. 

“Next time you should,” Changmin called up the stairs. It was somehow endearing how oblivious he was to Taeyong’s emotional exit. “He’s a nice kid.” 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun, and found he was standing up. “I’m gonna head out for a minute. I’ll be right back.” 

He hurried down the stairs and out onto the empty street, grabbed his bike and headed for the river. The sun had set though the sky wasn’t yet fully dark. As he crossed the bridge he could hear girls’ voices somewhere down by the water but couldn’t see them in the dusk, and their sounds faded quickly behind him. 

He’d known Taeyong wouldn’t be at the tree but when he really wasn’t, Jaehyun was disappointed anyway. Still, he dropped his bike in the dust and climbed up. He thought about the first time he’d seen Taeyong here, the way he’d teased him. He thought about watching Taeyong swim, his wet skin and his scowl as he pulled on his clothes. He thought about sitting on this same branch together. He thought about Taeyong’s coldness and how completely it had fallen away in the past weeks. He thought about lying next to him on the riverbank just a few days before. It felt like a whole lifetime had passed and it was hard to realize it had not been very much time at all. Was this always how fast it happened, how fast Jaehyun could start caring for someone? 

It had been a long time since he’d made a new friend, at least a close one. Sure, he always got along well with people, that had always been easy for him. He was likable, and he enjoyed being liked. He’d always had a solid circle of kids at school and when he started high school it wasn’t difficult when that circle inevitably changed, some kids lost, some kids gained. Those friendships were just fun, easy, and that had been fine with him, because he’d already had a friendship that ran deeper than all the rest. He didn’t need that from anyone else, because he’d known Haru since they were small, when Haru’s parents divorced and he started going to Jaehyun’s house after school until his dad finished work and could pick him up. Jaehyun had been thrilled, since he was an only child and he’d never had any kids from school come over to his house before, and he and Haru had become friends in the inevitable and effortless way that little kids can. 

They’d been as close as brothers, at first, and then at some point in middle school thinking about Haru as a brother started making Jaehyun feel strange and a little sick, and then he realized this was because he’d started thinking about Haru in a different way entirely. But nothing changed, thank god. Jaehyun didn’t need anything more than the closeness they already had, which he diligently reminded himself. And if there were a few times, late at night, alone, when he let his thoughts and hands wander, he forced himself to forget about it by morning, acted as though nothing had happened until he almost convinced himself. 

Everyone else had taken a backseat to that. To Haru. And then Haru was gone. 

Jaehyun’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it quickly out of his pocket, thinking maybe—

But no, it was Changmin, asking when he’d be home. Jaehyun dropped his head back against the tree trunk. The leaves were thick overhead and only small glimpses of the darkening sky peeked through. This might be the last time he’d sit here, staring at those leaves. He knew he couldn’t claim this place, and he was finally willing to accept that Taeyong kept leaving for a reason. He couldn’t blame him. Jaehyun had always been easygoing but he could tell it wasn’t so easy to be around him right now. He couldn’t expect anyone to want to take his shit on, let alone a high school kid who’d been going through a perfectly normal and well-adjusted life until Jaehyun came along. 

And Jaehyun knew too that he had chosen to focus on Taeyong so closely, that it hadn’t been an accident. The way he’d felt the first time he’d seen Taeyong, his startling beauty, the immediate attraction–it had been so completely different from the slow, years-long build of what he’d felt for Haru. That was something else, something deeper and more fundamental to who he was as a person. His love for Haru had been a glowing furnace that he thought would never be extinguished and which had always kept him warm, but if it were ever to truly ignite it would have burnt them both down. What he felt when he saw Taeyong was more like a spark, or the strike of a match. Pretty, fleeting. And the sparks had felt good, had been exciting, every time Jaehyun met Taeyong’s eyes and felt his pulse quicken or his breath catch. That had never happened with Haru. So it felt safe, something to enjoy that didn’t lead him back through all his memories. But Taeyong hadn’t asked for any of that. Especially when Jaehyun started getting more comfortable, started opening up, started seeking something in Taeyong that he knew better than to look for, because it had died in a car accident in the rain. 

Jaehyun laid his palm against the bark, still warm from the sun and the day’s heat. And then he swung himself down out of the tree, texted his uncle, and walked his bike back through the twilight, taking as much time as he could to leave. 

~~

Jaehyun stuck to his decision not to go back to the tree. He carefully thought about it in those terms–he was just staying away from the tree–instead of thinking about the boy that place really belonged to. Instead of wondering if he might be there, or if he was at the store, or swimming at the bridge, or….

Jaehyun found himself lapsing back into the routine he’d been in when he’d first arrived in River’s Bend, or rather, lapsing entirely out of any routine. He slept, excessively and at strange hours, letting himself drift off in the late afternoon and waking when it was dark, disoriented and not minding, making no effort to get his thoughts in order or check what time it was. He pulled books off Changmin’s shelves and then fell asleep after a few pages and didn’t keep up with them, and they piled up around his bed. All his favorite music made him feel something so he spent his time in silence. He at least made himself go down and eat proper meals with his uncle. When he was awake, anyway; Changmin never tried to wake him up, or if he did Jaehyun slept too soundly to notice. Instead he’d leave food out for Jaehyun to stumble upon in the dead of night or the middle of the day, whenever it occurred to him that he couldn’t quite remember when he’d last eaten and was probably hungry. The only time Changmin ventured into his room was when he was doing laundry, and then Jaehyun would guiltily help him pick up the clothes strewn over the floor so they could be washed. These were the only interruptions in the blend of Jaehyun’s days. 

Then one afternoon his uncle came to get his clothes and Jaehyun realized he was still wearing the same shorts and t-shirt he’d had on the last time Changmin had done laundry–all his other clothes were still clean and neatly folded, smelling like his uncle’s detergent, untouched. He had no idea how long it had been. 

Even Changmin with his unending patience seemed taken aback by this, and hesitated in the doorway, looking at the clothes he’d folded himself days or weeks before, not looking at Jaehyun who’d gotten out of bed when his uncle knocked and now just stood a little blankly in the middle of his room. 

“Your father called me,” Changmin finally said, quietly. 

“Oh,” said Jaehyun. His parents had been texting him too. He thought he’d been doing a good enough job replying, seeming okay. Maybe not. Now that he thought about it, he wasn’t sure when he’d last looked at his phone. 

“I told him you were out. I’m not trying to cover for you,” Changmin added when Jaehyun blinked at him. “I told him it doesn’t seem like you’ve been doing so well these past few weeks.” Had it been weeks? “But I thought you might want a heads up before talking to them.” 

“Okay,” Jaehyun said. “Thanks.” 

“They talked to a therapist,” Changmin said. “One who can do sessions with you online. They want you to speak with her, at least once, see how it goes.” 

“Right,” said Jaehyun. He’d spoken to the school counselor after it had happened, which had been fine, he supposed. His mom had asked him about talking to a real therapist but it hadn’t gotten figured out and then he came here. Coming here was supposed to be enough. “Did you ever talk to one?” Jaehyun asked, mildly surprised to hear more than a single word come out of his own mouth. 

“No,” said Changmin, very quietly. “But I should have. You should.” 

“Okay,” said Jaehyun. 

“Change your clothes,” Changmin said. “I’ll wash those.” 

“Okay.” Jaehyun pulled his shirt off, handing it to his uncle, who looked a little startled, but he took the shirt without comment and then the rest of Jaehyun’s clothes. 

“Do you want to shower?” he asked, and Jaehyun nodded and went past his uncle down the hall. He heard Changmin call through the closed bathroom door, “I’ll make dinner, come down if you’re hungry.” 

Jaehyun took a scalding hot shower, despite the summer heat and the stickiness of his unwashed skin. He shampooed twice, scraping his nails against his scalp, squeezed a huge amount of body wash onto a washcloth and scrubbed his skin until it went pink. The hot water ran out and the shower went breathtakingly cold, and he stood under it for a long time, until Changmin came back upstairs and knocked. 

When he stepped out of the bathroom in a towel his uncle was still there, waiting on the landing, and he straightened when Jaehyun emerged, looking relieved. Which was ridiculous. He’d just been showering. For an eternity. The cold water had barely cleared his head and now that his body was so clean it seemed not quite to belong to him. He walked to Changmin, who started to say something about what he’d made for dinner, and he leaned down and put his forehead on his uncle’s shoulder, which made him stop talking. Jaehyun was taller than his uncle and had to bend over to rest his head there but the slight tension in his spine made him a little more aware of himself. After a moment Changmin put his arms around Jaehyun’s back, patting him, awkward as ever, but it was something to focus on, his soft palms, the gentle hands of a man who spent his life with books. 

~~

At dinner that night, Changmin asked if Jaehyun wanted to start coming in to the library to help out. “We can’t exactly pay you,” he said, “or else I would have suggested it sooner. It’s your summer vacation, I wasn’t sure you’d be interested—” 

“Sure,” Jaehyun said. 

And so he started going to the library in the afternoons. Now that he was paying attention to time again he was startled to realize it was nearly August. He’d lost almost a whole month. This scared him more than a little. 

He called his parents, reassured them as best he could, said he’d talk to the therapist they’d found. Her name was Sooyoung and she was younger than he’d been expecting, probably around thirty. It was easier to talk to her than he was expecting too, maybe because he was able to do it sitting at the desk in his own room, staring at her face from miles away through a computer screen. So he agreed to keep meeting with her each week. So far they’d met twice, and it had been fine. She’d started with general questions, to get to know him a bit better, she said. And the questions mostly felt safe. He hadn’t said anything more than he wanted to say, and she seemed okay with that. He knew she knew about Haru’s death from his parents, but so far the only time they talked about it he’d just stuck with the facts, with exactly what happened, a distant rundown of the events that he pretended had nothing to do with him. It felt okay though, to talk about it and not have to worry how she’d take it, to know she was literally getting paid to listen to him, so he could say whatever he wanted. And when their sessions were over he could close his laptop and not worry about seeing her again until the next time they were scheduled to speak. 

In the library he mostly helped with putting back the returned books on their proper shelves. He was incredibly slow at the task, since he had very little sense of the layout of the library, of where each book belonged, and he spent a fair amount of time wandering through the sections and realizing, once he finally found the correct shelf, that there had been a much shorter route he could have taken. But Changmin and the other librarians didn’t seem to mind much. It wasn’t exactly a fast-paced place, though the library was sizeable, in a big old building with huge windows that somehow still managed to stay dim and cool inside at all times. 

Changmin didn’t hover over him while he was working but Jaehyun was aware of his uncle keeping an eye on him, and he was surprised to find he didn’t mind it at all. Changmin was still quiet and unobtrusive but seemed a little less hesitant than he had been, a little less worried about being a bother. He still did all the cooking but would tell Jaehyun to wash the dishes, to pick up after himself, to put away his clothes after Changmin had washed and folded them. He’d come by Jaehyun’s bedroom on his way to go to sleep himself and tell him to turn off the light, and even if Jaehyun still ended up staying awake for hours in the dark he liked the routine. Jaehyun knew he was being treated like a much younger child than he was and he was fine with it, only mildly surprised at how easy it was for him to return to depending entirely on an adult. 

When Jaehyun thought about his first few weeks in town it felt like a different life, or maybe like a dream. Those weeks struck him as aggressively bright, intensely summery, all sun and brilliant reflections off the water. And noisy: the kids laughing and messing with each other at the bridge, the whir and crunch of his bike wheels along the dirt path on the way to the tree, Taeyong’s voice, Doyoung chattering away, Taeyong’s laugh. Now he couldn’t believe he’d stood on the bridge in front of all those kids and seen them all looking up at him and felt good, felt excited and brave. His days now were calm, steady, the hushed cool between the tall bookshelves that the summer heat never seemed to penetrate, lowered voices and peace. He was hiding, he knew, but it was comfortable to hide. 

If he was honest–and he was trying to be, at least with himself–he missed Taeyong. He missed the general excitement too, the misguided hope that he might actually be able to fit in here and have an enjoyable year. But most of his missing was for Taeyong, even just for the sight of him, the way it had felt to be able to look at his face, to see someone so stunning. And yet, at the same time, he didn’t miss it–the feeling of having a crush, the butterflies, the thrill. Those feelings scared him a little. No–what scared him was that he had felt that way, and then, after those brief weeks of what had seemed like happiness, it had still gotten so bad for him. It scared him that he had felt like he was going to be okay, like he was doing better, and then he’d been forced to realize that he wasn’t at all, not even close. He couldn’t trust that those weeks had even been real, anything more than a stubborn delusion that he’d desperately pinned onto the prettiest and most distracting face he could find as he tried to avoid his reality. And in reality, he was a barely functioning depressed mess. 

So, sleeping nearly until noon and then spending the rest of his day hiding in the library felt like not a bad place to start. As the days passed Jaehyun started to feel a little more like himself, or at least like a version of himself that was capable of getting out of bed every day and eating food at normal times and showering and changing his clothes. It wasn’t thrilling, but it also wasn’t nothing. It was safe. 

And then, one late afternoon in August, Taeyong came to the library. 

The sun was low, though still a long way off from setting, and the angle of it meant that when the front doors opened, a long shaft of sunlight would stretch into the dim library, throwing shadows past whoever it was that was entering or leaving. That afternoon, Jaehyun was shelving books in Nonfiction, not far from the doors. Most of the row was beyond the reach of the ray of light that the doors let in, but just as he reached the end of the row, stretching up to slide a book into its place, the doors opened, and the sunlight flooded through the gaps between the books, and caught him in the eye. He paused, book in hand, disoriented, squinting. The heavy doors swung slowly shut again, the path of light shrank and then disappeared as they closed, and he blinked out towards the entrance in the dimness and saw Taeyong. His vision was still sunshot and everything wavered; Taeyong looked like a mirage, or a dream. There was a moment when Jaehyun wasn’t sure if Taeyong was real, and then another moment when Jaehyun forgot that Taeyong’s appearance shouldn’t fill him with excitement. Excitement, in general, was dangerous. But his heart leapt with the same thrill he’d become so distrustful of. A spark. 

Then his vision settled, the bright shock of the sun faded completely from his sight. Taeyong was turning towards the front desk, where Changmin sat. And Jaehyun was filled with a sudden panic that his uncle might tell Taeyong that he was here. Part of him thought he had nothing to worry about, that his uncle’s concern for him over the past weeks had turned into something like protectiveness, that he of all people would understand that Jaehyun didn’t want to see anyone. Wasn’t ready yet, to see anyone. But on the other hand, Changmin was awkward, and a bit of an outsider, and also unfailingly polite. And he knew nothing about Jaehyun and Taeyong’s relationship, whatever it had been–Jaehyun cringed to even think of it. He might tell Taeyong that Jaehyun was here simply in his attempt to make small talk. Or, oh god, he might think he was doing Jaehyun a favor, that seeing a friend–another cringe–would be good for him. 

But it wouldn’t be. It most certainly would not be good for him. Jaehyun crouched behind the bookshelf and peered through the books, watching the sliver of Taeyong’s back that he could see. His fingertips were white around the forgotten book in his hand. He was panicking, slightly, he knew. Not full blown panic, but then, he hadn’t really felt anything fully in a while. Maybe he no longer could. It was frustrating anyway, to feel his pulse quicken and his palms go sweaty, to know it was ridiculous to be hiding behind a shelf in the library from a boy who, until very recently, had been something like a friend, and to recognize that this was the most intensely he’d felt anything in maybe a month. And it was pointless. Taeyong wasn’t a part of his life anymore. His safe, small life here in the library. 

“Jaehyun?”

The book slid out of Jaehyun’s grasp and hit the floor with a thud that echoed in the quiet space. No. Jaehyun’s forehead was pressed hard against the bookshelf in front of him; he hadn’t even noticed. He straightened, and turned. He could tell from the residual sense of pressure that his forehead must have a mark on it from the edge of the wooden shelf. 

“I thought that was you,” Taeyong said. He wasn’t smiling, but he looked like he might have wanted to. He glanced at the cart of books beside Jaehyun. “Are you working here?” 

“Yes,” Jaehyun said. His voice sounded strange. The mark on his forehead was probably bright red. He felt embarrassed. No, that wasn’t true: he felt as though he would have been embarrassed, if he’d been himself, but instead the embarrassment stayed bogged down with all his other emotions, blurry and vague under the much stronger sense that this didn’t matter, this conversation didn’t matter, seeing Taeyong didn’t matter. Nothing would change. Taeyong was a spark, and sparks were quickly extinguished. 

“That’s cool,” said Taeyong. 

There was a beat of silence which Jaehyun made no attempt to fill. He had nothing to say. He had nothing. 

“Listen,” said Taeyong. “I’m sorry about… everything. I feel like….” He looked off at the opposite shelf of books and spoke to their neatly aligned spines. “I feel like you told me something big and I let you down, and then kind of… ran away. So, I’m sorry.” 

“You didn’t let me down,” Jaehyun said. This doesn’t matter.

Taeyong looked at him, a strange expression on his face. “Oh. Well…. How have you been?” 

Jaehyun shrugged. He thought about lying and saying he’d been fine but he thought the ridiculousness of it might make him laugh, and then Taeyong would know beyond a doubt that he really had lost it. 

“Okay,” Taeyong said, elongating the word, uncertain. “You should come swimming again sometime,” he said, and now he smiled, though it looked strained. “Doyoung’s been, uh, asking about you.” 

That was a lie, Jaehyun thought. “Maybe sometime,” he said. A lie of his own. 

Taeyong blinked at him, and then looked down, and Jaehyun could tell from his face that he thought this conversation did matter, that he hadn’t figured out yet that it was easier not to care. 

“Okay, well. Bye then, I guess.” 

“Bye,” Jaehyun said, and watched Taeyong turn around, walk out from between the shelves, push open the front doors. The sun burst in around him, and disappeared as the doors closed again behind him. He hadn’t gotten any books. 

Jaehyun bent down and picked up the book he’d dropped. His hands were shaking. He could see that they were shaking, could feel the awkwardness of picking up the book with his trembling uncooperative fingers. So something had worked its way up to the surface after all. But he had been right, anyway: the conversation didn’t matter, and nothing changed.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong didn’t realize he hadn’t picked up any of the books he’d gone to the library for until he was all the way back in his own bedroom, lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling, and other thoughts finally had a chance to penetrate the cloud of embarrassment and misery that had filled his head all the way home. He had thought–well, he wasn’t sure what he had thought, if he’d been thinking much of anything at all when he saw Jaehyun in the library, after weeks without so much as a glimpse of him anywhere in town. Just surprise, and excitement, a quickening of his heartbeat that made him forget how long it had been and how they’d left things and how hard Jaehyun must have been trying to disappear, which wasn’t easy in a place like River’s Bend. But Taeyong quickly remembered, as soon as he saw Jaehyun’s face, the blankness of his gaze, a blankness that still betrayed somehow the desperate effort Jaehyun was making not to let anything show. That had been the worst part, the sense that Jaehyun was making a choice, that he was putting energy into keeping Taeyong out. Taeyong didn’t blame him, could even sympathize with the impulse to push people away if you were going through something you didn’t think they could understand–and Taeyong knew he couldn’t understand even the first thing about what Jaehyun was going through. But it still hurt, to see the finality of whatever it was that they’d had. That he’d ruined. 

Taeyong felt guilty too, because even though he’d missed Jaehyun more than he wanted to admit, his summer had still more or less returned to normal, to the way it had been before Jaehyun had shown up. And yet, the places he’d grown up with, places he had an entire lifetime of memories for, had been written over by a few brief weeks of Jaehyun’s presence, so he couldn’t stop thinking of the way Jaehyun had looked sitting in the branches of his tree, or coming through the doors of his family’s store, or standing up on the rail of the bridge in the sun, larger than life, beautiful. He’d thought a thousand times about calling him, or trying to find him at his uncle’s house. But the thought of Jaehyun not answering the phone, not coming to the door, his uncle sending him apologetically away, was enough to hold him back.  

And now that he’d seen him again, the rejection was clearer and worse even than the embarrassment he’d imagined. Things were really over. What more could he do besides apologize? It wasn’t like they had years of friendship that could outweigh this conflict between them. By now, they’d spent just as many weeks not talking as they’d spent hanging out at the beginning of the summer, and it turned out those weeks of–had it been friendship?–were pretty light after all, and easily left behind. 

Taeyong didn’t know what else to do, so he returned to his summer. Worked at the store, swam at the river, dozed at his tree. Distracted himself. He even went to a party at Yuta’s house with Doyoung, who in a rather uncharacteristic bout of nerves begged Taeyong not to make him go by himself. 

He tried not to think about Jaehyun and did anyway, tried not to miss him and did anyway, tried not to regret and did anyway. 

And in that way August slipped by, and his last year of high school began. 

~~

Taeyong sat in his tree and watched his breath rise up in front of his face with every exhale. His nose was freezing, and now that the sun had set it wouldn’t be long before the cold started to sink through the many layers he was wearing and he’d need to go home. But for now he didn’t mind the chill. The river was quieter in the cold, though it had not yet frozen over. The cicadas were gone, and the flies and all the other bugs that had chirped and buzzed. The birds that stayed for the winter trilled occasionally, and the dry grasses and leaves skittered along the riverbank and rustled with a distinctly dead sound, nothing like the gentle shushing they’d made in the summer. It wasn’t a bad place for thinking, and Taeyong needed to think. 

It had been three months since school had started. In a few weeks, winter break would begin, but before that was the hurdle of first semester finals. And for Taeyong’s World History class, that meant a group research project and presentation. In any other class, Taeyong wouldn’t have minded. But Jaehyun was also in World History. It was the only class they were in together, and they’d spent a somewhat tense but otherwise uneventful three months ignoring each other, or being carefully polite when they absolutely needed to interact. But then the teacher announced the groups for the final project, and of course, by some twist of bad luck ( fate , a small voice in the back of Taeyong’s mind suggested), he and Jaehyun were in the same group. 

As if that wasn’t stressful enough, Yuta was their third group member. Despite Doyoung’s teasing, Taeyong was not, in fact, scared of Yuta. They were even friendly, though they’d never been close. But in the past few months Jaehyun and Yuta had, in fact, become actual friends. Even if Jaehyun hadn’t already told Yuta absolutely everything about the mess Taeyong had made of things over the summer, Taeyong couldn’t stop feeling like he was going to be left out in a group with the two of them. He wasn’t sure how to carry on a natural conversation with Jaehyun in the first place–he was completely out of practice, and somehow seeing him every day in World History had not inoculated him to whatever power Jaehyun’s stupid smiles held, and his pulse still had the infuriating habit of quickening at the sight. The fact that he’d have to attempt those conversations with a front row seat to Jaehyun’s real, non-dysfunctional friendship with Yuta was just adding insult to injury. 

Taeyong knew he should be glad that Jaehyun was doing okay. It was absolutely selfish to think any other way, after what Jaehyun had gone through, and he’d been telling himself this since the first day of school, when he’d seen Jaehyun walking down the hall. There’d been no sign of that blank-faced boy he’d spoken to in the library just a couple weeks before. Instead his smiles were back, and the way he carried himself reminded Taeyong of the way he’d stood on the bridge in the sun that day in June, just before jumping off, his back straight, bright and sure. Barely anyone knew him–he really had withdrawn for most of the summer, not only from Taeyong but from the town as a whole. And the excitement at his presence was obvious, though maybe Taeyong was paying particularly close attention. The glances and the whispers: a new kid, a kid from the city, tall and very handsome and from the city , quick to smile and easy to like. Taeyong couldn’t even convince himself the smiles Jaehyun gave the kids he passed in the hall were any different from the smiles he’d once given Taeyong, no matter how much he wished they were. 

So the truth was, he was glad, objectively, that Jaehyun seemed to be doing better. And he was glad, objectively, when he saw Jaehyun climbing out of Yuta’s car in the school parking lot every morning as he locked up his bike. But also, less objectively, it fucking sucked. 

It was nearly fully dark now. Taeyong’s fingers were getting stiff and his ass was totally frozen on the branch. The next morning Yuta was picking him up early–him and Jaehyun–so they could start working on the project, since Yuta played a varsity sport every season and had practice in the afternoons (currently for basketball, Taeyong was pretty sure). He should get a good night’s sleep before that ordeal. But he was sorely tempted to stay in the tree and let himself freeze solid instead. 

~~

The next morning Taeyong woke up before his alarm, which almost never happened (usually it was a toss-up whether he’d wake up even after his alarm), and was outside at his front gate a full fifteen minutes before Yuta was scheduled to arrive. He told himself not to be nervous. He’d made it through months of sharing this class with Jaehyun, after all. And by now he was sure whatever hard feelings there’d been should have faded. Jaehyun had simply been having a hard time over the summer, and Taeyong had made it worse, but now Jaehyun was obviously doing better. They weren’t friends but it wasn’t like they were enemies. They were just… classmates. And classmates worked together on school projects all the time. 

Doyoung had suggested, when Taeyong told him about the group assignment, that this was a good thing, that it could be a “fresh start.” But Taeyong wasn’t sure he should hope for anything, if he even wanted to hope for anything. Probably safer not to. 

Taeyong’s phone buzzed, and when he pulled it out there was a text with Jaehyun’s name above it. The text was in the group chat Yuta had made for them, and only said Almost there, come outside. But Taeyong’s stomach still dropped in spite of himself. It had been such a long time. 

A moment later, Yuta’s car turned onto the street and pulled up in front of Taeyong. Jaehyun was in the passenger seat, staring out the windshield. Taeyong opened the back door and climbed in. 

“Hey,” Yuta said, with a nod at Taeyong in the rearview mirror.

“Hey,” said Taeyong. “Thanks for picking me up.” 

They pulled away from the curb and started driving down the familiar streets, empty in the cold early morning. Jaehyun looked out the window and didn’t say anything. Taeyong tried not to stare at the sliver of his face he could see. He looked tired, but just in the way that would be expected at this hour, his eyes a little puffy, his hair kind of a mess. Cute , Taeyong thought, and then wanted to knock his head against the window hard enough to break the glass. This fresh start was going to go terribly if he couldn’t get his shit together. 

Yuta started talking about the topic they’d do for their presentation, which was supposed to relate to the global impact and consequences of the Cold War. He seemed oblivious to Jaehyun’s moodiness. Was it even moodiness? Maybe he was quiet like this every morning when they drove to school together. Maybe Yuta wasn’t bothered because he knew Jaehyun so well by now and was familiar with all his different behaviors and emotions. He definitely knew Jaehyun better than Taeyong did. Which stung, more than a little. Or maybe Yuta was purposely ignoring Jaehyun’s mood because he already knew about everything that had happened and understood Jaehyun’s discomfort completely. 

Taeyong managed to keep up the conversation himself, if only so Yuta wouldn’t be left hanging with two mysteriously brooding guys in his car refusing to utter a single word. Jaehyun gave an affirmative grunt any time Yuta directly asked him his opinion, and by the time they pulled into the school parking lot they’d more or less agreed on a topic to start researching. It might have been comical if Taeyong had managed not to take it all personally. Though it was delusional to think he even still mattered enough to Jaehyun to affect his mood at all after all this time. 

The school library was bright and airy with huge windows, nothing like the older library in town, grand and dark. There were a bunch of kids studying there already, cramming in homework before class started or tutoring each other, or working on projects like them. Jaehyun seemed a little more engaged once they were settled at a table, expanding his responses to Yuta’s questions to actual sentences, and even making suggestions of his own. The first time he did that Yuta elbowed him and said, “Wow, you’re finally awake,” and Jaehyun told him mildly to shut up. Taeyong’s chest ached unpleasantly. 

Taeyong could only fake his cheerful studiousness even more aggressively in response. Every time he managed a perfectly natural-sounding laugh at one of Yuta’s jokes or made a joke of his own he felt darkly victorious. And whenever he managed to respond to one of Jaehyun’s questions about the project or ask Jaehyun something himself–something that wasn’t Why can’t we go back to the way things were? –he felt an even more savage sort of satisfaction. Even though he was painfully aware that the only person who gave a shit what he was saying or laughing at or acting like was himself, that this hopeless battle was entirely in his own head.  

“So, how was it?” Doyoung asked promptly when Taeyong walked into first period later, just before the bell. Yuta and Jaehyun had gone off to their own classes, Yuta with a “See you later!” that seemed almost unnervingly cheerful in comparison to Jaehyun’s goodbye, which was simply walking off in silence down the hall. 

Taeyong shrugged. Doyoung shook him vigorously by the shoulder. “Ugh, it was fine, let go,” Taeyong said, shoving him off. 

“How was Yuta? What color are his nails now?” 

Taeyong blinked. “Uh, black, I think. Aren’t they always black? And why do you care?”

Now Doyoung shrugged. “Fine, how was Jaehyun then, the only person you actually care about.” 

“That’s… not true,” Taeyong said, flustered and knowing Doyoung could tell. “He was fine. I mean, I don’t know. He was quiet. But maybe that’s just normal for him. I wouldn’t really know, right?” 

“Man,” Doyoung said, leaning back in his chair. “I really wish we knew what happened with him.” 

“You say that like every other week,” Taeyong said, but his face was burning and he felt a little nauseous. Doyoung really had brought this up a number of times since the summer, totally innocently, but still Taeyong felt the same rush of guilt and nerves each time. He knew it wouldn’t be right to tell Doyoung Jaehyun’s business, but it still didn’t feel great to hold things back from him. Not that knowing had made Taeyong feel better about any of it anyway. 

A couple days later–Jaehyun had flatly refused to wake up an hour early every day of the week–Yuta picked Taeyong up again. Jaehyun was just as quiet in the car ride, and once again only started speaking when they were settled in the library. It wasn’t quite as bad as the first day, though this was probably more that Taeyong knew what to expect and less that anything had actually changed. The only upside was that they ended up being impressively productive, since any time the conversation started getting off topic Jaehyun would suddenly ask a question about their project and they’d end up back on track. It didn’t take long for Taeyong to notice Jaehyun was doing this on purpose, that he almost never said anything that wasn’t strictly about their research topic. Taeyong hadn’t imagined he’d be quite such a diligent student but maybe this was what city kids were like. 

Yuta, for his part, was easier to get along with than Taeyong had expected–no, he was downright cool. This wasn’t such a surprise, since Taeyong’s main impression of him for basically their entire lives had been that Yuta was much, much cooler than he was and therefore way too intimidating to be friends with. But strangely enough, Yuta seemed pretty happy to have Taeyong around. Soon Taeyong found he was actually comfortable around him, instead of just pretending. Of course, whenever Taeyong started genuinely laughing at something Yuta said, Jaehyun’s serious even voice would cut in with “We need more than just a Wikipedia article to cite for this section,” or something similarly unamusing. 

And yet…. The more Taeyong relaxed, the harder it became to ignore the pull he still felt towards Jaehyun. He told himself there wasn’t any reason for it anymore and he should snap out of it. In the summer, Jaehyun had been fun, lively, with those constant pretty smiles. (And, well, maybe it hadn’t hurt that they’d spent a fair amount of time together in their bathing suits; all the other parts of him that Taeyong had seen were pretty too.) Even when Jaehyun was irritating–and Taeyong really had been annoyed at first–there had still been something there, something about having Jaehyun’s attention on him that didn’t really annoy him at all. And when they got closer and Taeyong discovered more of Jaehyun beyond the teasing and messing around, he had liked that person too, the whole of him, even though in the end he hadn’t known what to do with that closeness and let it go to waste. Now Jaehyun didn’t say more than two words to Taeyong unless they were about the Cold War. And yet somehow, infuriatingly, Taeyong still found himself melting a little at the rare sound of Jaehyun’s low voice. Still found his eyes straying too often to admire the way Jaehyun’s hair fell over his forehead as he pored over a book, or his quick elegant fingers as he typed up their notes. His dark brows and long eyelashes, his skin–now winter-pale with no trace of sunburn left; his bitten lips and every shift of the tendons in his neck or wrists or forearms. It was somehow worse than all the time they’d spent together over the summer, as though in the absence of any real conversation, Taeyong was left pouring every bit of interest into the slightest covert glances. 

In other words, he was probably staring like a total creep. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun was pretty sure he wasn’t going to survive the last few weeks of the semester. 

He’d been doing okay so far, maybe better than he’d even expected. The first week had been an exhausting marathon of fake smiles and cheerful introductions and trying to keep track of all the kids he met. He could tell people were fascinated by him and he thought this would have thrilled him in the past but it didn’t so much now. But he was in three classes with Yuta, one of the few kids he remembered from Doyoung’s whirlwind of introductions at the bridge that summer. At first he went to sit next to him just because it felt like a buffer from all the glances and whispers and the teachers with their patronizing smiles asking him to come up and introduce himself to the class. Yuta was a good choice for a buffer, considering the aura he exuded with his longish hair and black painted nails of not taking any shit from anyone, and the fact that on top of that he played a bunch of sports and no one was actually inclined to give him shit in the first place. But then it turned out Yuta was actually nice–more importantly, he was nice in a certain laid back way that was easy for Jaehyun to handle, that didn’t put much pressure on him to act more cheerful than he felt or keep up appearances in any way. So they ended up becoming friends. And it was so much more effortless than it had been with Taeyong, and Jaehyun was grateful. 

There had been some bad days, even so. Days when Jaehyun dragged himself through the motions at school and days when he couldn’t make himself get out of bed to go to school at all. One especially bad week, when he stayed home from Tuesday straight through the weekend. Nothing even happened that time to make him so depressed, not that he could figure out anyway–and he’d tried, in his sessions with Sooyoung. He wanted there to have been something he could point to that had thrown him off. But he’d just gotten home that Monday and felt… down. Really, really down. He skipped dinner and went to bed and the next morning ignored his alarm, and when Changmin came up to check on him Jaehyun couldn’t even bring himself to say anything, just looked at him, not embarrassed but guilty, like he was letting his uncle down, and yet unable to do anything about that either. Changmin just called Yuta to let him know he didn’t need to pick Jaehyun up that morning, that he’d come down with a fever, and a couple afternoons later he heard Changmin talking to Yuta down at the front door when he came to drop off some work from the teachers, his polite soft-spoken voice as he told him Jaehyun wasn’t feeling well enough to see anyone yet. 

So Jaehyun had ended up telling Yuta, in the car when he finally went back to school, that he got depressed sometimes. He’d almost told him about Haru too. It had been on the tip of his tongue a hundred times by now. Sometimes he even suspected that Yuta already knew, if not the specifics than at least generally that something bad had happened that had made Jaehyun move to River’s Bend. But every time he opened his mouth he remembered Taeyong, the way he’d touched his hand when he told him, the way he’d looked at him in the grocery store like that tragedy had become the only thing about Jaehyun he could see, the way he’d walked out of his bedroom. Those words that had stung more than Jaehyun even realized at the time: I hope if you decide to tell someone else, it’ll be someone better than me. He hadn’t wanted someone else better, he’d wanted Taeyong. And when he was feeling particularly honest with himself, usually in the middle of the night when he couldn’t sleep, or more rarely on calls with Sooyoung, he knew that what he’d really wanted was for Taeyong to think Jaehyun was worth being better for. For Taeyong to have tried, just a little harder, instead of running away the first time he fell a little short. Jaehyun was torn between the knowledge that this wasn’t fair at all to expect after only a few weeks of knowing someone, and the desperate desire to believe he had the right to wish for it anyway. To believe he deserved to have someone care enough to make an effort, the way he’d always known Haru would make an effort for him, no matter what. According to Sooyoung, he did deserve it, and would find people like that again. But that didn’t mean it would be Taeyong. 

Jaehyun had accepted that, by now. Or was in the process of accepting it, at least (Sooyoung talked a lot about processes). He’d been feeling like he could become a version of himself that could get through the rest of his life without Haru, a person he’d imagined would be with him forever, and without Taeyong, a person he’d foolishly hoped could fill the hole Haru left. And then, so close to getting through the semester without incident, their World History teacher just had to throw him in a group with Taeyong. 

This was so inconsequential, really, which made it bother him even more when anxiety crawled right up into his throat as soon as the teacher said their names. He barely registered Yuta’s enthusiastic exclamation, “Oh, we’re getting an A for sure .” He risked looking across the room–they sat as far apart as possible–and found Taeyong swiveled around in his chair looking back at him. It had been so long since their eyes had met, and he’d forgotten how big Taeyong’s were, how dark and expressive, how beauti—Jaehyun turned away, forced a grin on his face, laughed with Yuta like he’d never been more thrilled about a school assignment in his life. His only pleasure, if a bleak one, was that Taeyong had looked just as shocked and unhappy as Jaehyun felt. So at least he hadn’t been totally forgotten yet. 

This still hadn’t prepared him for the acute brand of misery that came from sitting with Taeyong in Yuta’s car, or across from him at a small library table, and realizing that he could barely even speak anymore in his presence. It was humiliating. And depressing, to once again be forced to confront these unrecognizable sides of him. He had never been tongue-tied like this before, had never been so paralyzed by anxiety just from being near someone. It was all the more embarrassing because he knew it wasn’t just because of all that had happened between them over the summer, but also because he was still so weak to Taeyong’s face, even after everything. Being close to him again, having Taeyong look at him and speak to him, even the most casual passing glances and the dullest questions about their project, was something like agony, and he’d worked so hard for months not to feel anything so strongly. Now he kept catching himself staring at Taeyong’s hands and remembering the feel of them, his slightly cool palms and long fingers. He’d catch himself imagining slipping those fingers into his mouth. 

Which was just wrong, in every possible way. And Taeyong, for his part, didn’t seem to be suffering in the slightest. Maybe the first time they’d picked him up he’d been quiet and seemed tense, and maybe Jaehyun had allowed himself to hope, a little, that the tension was because of him. But it dissipated quickly, and Jaehyun remembered Doyoung teasing Taeyong about being scared of Yuta, so he had to admit that any initial awkwardness must have been because of that. Now Taeyong and Yuta spent half their meetings messing around, laughing at the stupidest things as though they weren’t only here to work on a project, as though this time was actually making them closer. And why wouldn’t it? Yuta was the chillest person Jaehyun knew, and once Taeyong got comfortable he could be so likable, funny and warm and.… Jaehyun needed to get his shit together or he really wouldn’t make it to winter break.  

In the library with Yuta and Taeyong in the second week they’d been working together, Yuta added another piece of straw to the pile of hay accumulating on Jaehyun’s back when he announced that due to his upcoming game on Friday, he’d be having practices both before and after school for the next few days, and suggested that Jaehyun and Taeyong meet up on their own just once so they wouldn’t be stuck cramming to finish everything the following week when the project was due. Since Yuta had no idea about any of the issues between him and Taeyong, he made the reasonable assumption when they both hesitated that they were only worried about Yuta not pulling his weight, and overcompensated by sending them an impressive draft of their entire presentation so they could start designing the slides. They couldn’t exactly refuse when Yuta had clearly spent his own time doing more than his share of the work out of unnecessary guilt about his basketball schedule. So on Thursday Jaehyun and Taeyong walked out of World History together after final period, and headed to the library in absolute silence. 

The library was more crowded after school than in the morning–they’d both at least agreed that if they didn’t have to wake up early they absolutely shouldn’t, and since Yuta wouldn’t be able to join them either way they might as well stay late instead. Their usual table was occupied and so were most of the other large tables around. Taeyong mumbled something that sounded like “Let’s look over there,” though he was so quiet it was hard to be sure. Jaehyun followed him away from the central area of the library until they found a tiny old table next to a window at the end of a row of shelves. Jaehyun’s anxiety had already had his stomach in knots pretty much since the moment they’d decided to meet up without Yuta, and now his guts felt like they might actually burst at the prospect of spending the next couple hours with Taeyong tucked into this frankly adorable corner of the library with the winter sun setting prettily beyond the windows. He fussed a little more than strictly necessary with his laptop as he opened it on the desk. 

“So,” said Taeyong. 

Jaehyun’s chest seized with just the possibility of all the things Taeyong might say next. Better not to let him get there at all. 

“Yuta’s notes are really good, did you look at them already?” Jaehyun said quickly. He didn’t wait for an answer and kept talking. “We really just need to turn what he wrote into slides for the presentation and we’ll be done.”

Taeyong blinked at him, and Jaehyun was uncomfortably aware that he probably hadn’t said so many words at once since they’d started working on the project. But Taeyong just nodded. “We can start by finding some pictures to go with the notes?” 

“Sure,” Jaehyun said, a little too enthusiastically, relieved Taeyong had gone along with his transparent attempt to keep their conversation strictly related to the task at hand. Or maybe that really was all Taeyong was interested in talking about. Jaehyun was probably the only one thinking about anything else. 

Taeyong stood up, and dragged his chair around the table. Jaehyun flinched back. “What?” 

Taeyong stopped and stared down at him, his eyes unreadable–had he always been so hard to read? 

“There’s only one computer,” Taeyong said tightly, gesturing at Jaehyun’s laptop. “Unless you’d rather do all the work yourself instead of having me within three feet of you.” 

Jaehyun felt all the blood rush to his face. “No, I…. You just startled me.” He cleared his throat and shifted his chair over, closer to the window, to make space.

Taeyong clunked his chair down a little too noisily next to him and sat down. He seemed annoyed. So at least he felt something about whatever had happened between the two of them. 

Jaehyun turned his attention back to his laptop, and they started to work. His hands were shaking as he typed and he prayed Taeyong wouldn’t notice. But the prayer was probably in vain, since Taeyong was definitely close enough to notice his hands, as well as his burning ears and the drumming of his pulse. It felt like Taeyong was so close he might be able to read Jaehyun’s every thought in full mortifying detail, while he was at it. Jaehyun didn’t think they’d been so close to each other since the summer, maybe not since the night of Taeyong’s birthday. Which was not a night he needed to be remembering. 

The light outside darkened steadily, and they talked, rarely and quietly, as they put together the slides, and after a while Jaehyun’s face cooled and his hands stopped trembling. It was a little strange to realize that after feeling like he might be on the brink of a panic attack things could start feeling more or less normal again within an hour. He was embarrassingly proud of himself for recovering. 

“Oh, it’s snowing,” Taeyong said suddenly. 

Jaehyun looked up, startled, and followed his gaze out the window, where it had indeed started to snow, big white flakes illuminated by the lights from the library where they came close to the glass. Jaehyun could see his and Taeyong’s reflections in the glass too. “Pretty,” Jaehyun said, and felt himself blush. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, eyes still out on the snow beyond the window, and they sat for a while without speaking, just watching it fall. “It kind of sucks,” Taeyong said quietly after some time, “everything that happened.” 

Jaehyun tensed, his eyes automatically going to Taeyong’s in the window’s reflection. This time Taeyong was looking back at him in the glass. “Y-yeah,” said Jaehyun. He knew he should say something more. He wasn’t used to being the one who was flustered, the one who had nothing to say. He remembered those first long-ago days when he’d met Taeyong, how easily and adorably rattled Taeyong had gotten, how confident Jaehyun had seemed then, though it had been more of an act than even he had realized. He’d had a lot of opportunities in the past few months to get used to the new, more hesitant way he moved through the world now, but it still caught him off guard sometimes. As did Taeyong’s calmness now as he brought up something Jaehyun had thought they’d agreed to pretend never happened, as though he’d grown up since the summer, while Jaehyun had stayed stuck. 

“Doyoung keeps saying being put together for this project can be a fresh start,” Taeyong said. His eyes were still on the window, and Jaehyun found himself staring at the glass too, unsteady. Taeyong shook his head, a quirk in his lips, “He doesn’t know anything that really happened though, so I guess that’s easy for him to say.” 

“What… did happen?” Jaehyun said, quietly, almost to himself. But Taeyong turned his head, breaking the gaze with Jaehyun’s window-reflected eyes to look at his actual face beside him. Jaehyun didn’t turn–was too scared to turn–but he could make out Taeyong’s surprised expression even so. “That’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun backtracked quickly. His hands were balled into fists in his lap and he could feel his palms going sweaty. “I just mean… all this time, not talking for months, it sort of feels like….” He trailed off, at a loss. 

“A waste,” Taeyong whispered, so quietly Jaehyun knew he would never have heard if they hadn’t been sitting in a silent library, or if Taeyong’s mouth hadn’t been so close to his ear. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun breathed. 

Taeyong looked at the window again, and this time Jaehyun couldn’t tell where he was focused, on the snow or on their faces. Neither of them spoke again. It felt like the peace between them, or whatever this moment was, would break with the slightest sound, with any attempt to explain or really talk. After a moment Taeyong turned back to the laptop screen which had gone dim on the table beside them, and they quietly got back to work. Beyond the window, the snow started coming down harder. 

~~

They met up one last time the following week, with Yuta again, to put the finishing touches on their project. And it felt different, Jaehyun could tell right away, and he didn’t think it was just in his head. Even being in class with Taeyong had felt a little different, although they still sat across the room from each other and barely talked. It wasn’t that anything had observably changed. But just knowing that maybe they both felt more similarly about the events of last summer than Jaehyun had thought, just knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt something about it, made a bigger difference than he’d expected. It took a little less strain every time he spoke, and he felt a little more like himself. He even nearly teased Taeyong again, thoughtlessly, when Taeyong asked him to turn his laptop around and it was on the tip of his tongue to point out that he hadn’t minded coming to sit next to him when it had just been the two of them. But he caught himself in time, shut his mouth and turned his computer and tried not to blush when he saw Taeyong eyeing him a little suspiciously, as though he’d known exactly what was going through his head. 

By the time they gave their presentation, Jaehyun didn’t think he’d ever spent so much time on a school project before. He wasn’t even nervous, as they finally stood in front of the class, because Yuta had made them all practice to the point of mind-numbing oblivion. And any nerves he did feel probably had more to do with Taeyong’s expressive voice and lively eyes and the fact that Jaehyun could finally stare at him openly while he did his part of the presentation without it seeming strange at all. 

When Jaehyun got home that afternoon, feeling like a weight had been lifted and not examining too closely whether the weight had been his finals or just Taeyong, Changmin was already home. Changmin’s hours tended to fluctuate and his days off would change, so this wasn’t so unusual, but as soon as Jaehyun walked in he could feel that Changmin had been waiting for him. 

“What happened?” he asked, stopping just inside the door, shoes and coat and hat still on, uneasy. 

“Nothing,” Changmin said quickly. “Nothing happened. I just spoke to your father.” 

Jaehyun relaxed, marginally, because he knew what this was about and at least it wasn’t a crisis. He shrugged off his backpack and coat and toed off his shoes. 

“Are you going to go back for Christmas?” his uncle asked quietly. In the past few months Jaehyun had started being able to tell the difference between when Changmin felt nervous around him, which happened only rarely now, and when he was simply speaking softly because that was how he always spoke. 

Jaehyun shrugged. “I haven’t told them yet.” 

Changmin raised an eyebrow. “I know. Hence your father calling me. Tomorrow’s the last day of school before break, Jaehyun. You certainly don’t need to go back, but you should let them know one way or another.” 

“I know,” Jaehyun sighed, walking past Changmin into the living room and slumping into the couch. “I should go back, right?” 

Changmin turned to watch him and tilted his head thoughtfully. This was something Jaehyun appreciated about his uncle: he didn’t pretend he knew all the answers just because he was an adult. “I know your parents would love to see you. And it will be nice to see them. But if you don’t think you’re ready to go back, that’s okay.” 

“What about you?” Jaehyun asked. 

Changmin blinked. “What about me?” 

“What will you do for Christmas if I go?” 

Changmin just stared at him for a moment, and then made a vague gesture at the house around him, smiling awkwardly. 

“Do you want to come with me?” Jaehyun asked, sitting straighter. “You should come with me, it would be nice—” 

“Oh, no,” Changmin said, putting his hands up and shaking his head. He was flustered, Jaehyun could tell. “Thank you, but no. I’ll be fine here.” 

“But—” 

“Jaehyun.” Changmin sat down across from him on the edge of an armchair. “I’m fine here. I don’t like the city. And, well,” he hummed, looking uncertain. “I don’t think your dad would be comfortable having me. I can’t blame him. I took his sister all the way out here, and then—”

“That wasn’t your fault!” Jaehyun burst out.

“I know! I know,” Changmin said quickly. “Of course it wasn’t. But knowing that isn’t quite the same as feeling it. I’m not good with people, anyway. It would be a burden on them, and they should have a nice holiday.”

Jaehyun slumped back into the couch. “I don’t know if I can,” he said, after a long moment. 

“It’s okay if you can’t,” Changmin said again. He sat back in his chair too, and the silence settled around them, long enough for the sun to sink closer to the horizon and the light in the room to change and dim. Neither of them got up to turn on a light. 

“It’s okay if you can’t,” Changmin repeated finally, softly. Jaehyun couldn’t clearly make out his expression anymore in the dusk but he could imagine it, his thoughtful features. “But something else to think about is that it might not be good to allow your home, your parents, the city, to become places and people that only remind you of what happened to your friend.” 

Jaehyun swallowed, his breath suddenly tight. He and Changmin had talked plenty in the months they’d been living together, but it was usually in a gentle and vague way. He didn’t think his uncle had ever really mentioned the accident specifically, or the person it had happened to. 

“You’ve been doing really well,” Changmin continued. “But you’ve been doing well because of you, not because of this town, or your new friends here, or me. That won’t all go away just from visiting your parents for the holidays. And if it does, you can come back as soon as you need to, and try again after more time has passed. I’m not trying to rush you. You’ll know if you want to go or not. But if you think you might want to, you shouldn’t be afraid. Going back probably will be hard in some ways, and letting time pass can make things easier. But just waiting endlessly for it not to hurt anymore has its own cost.” 

Jaehyun chewed his lip and sat in the silent dimness. Changmin didn’t push him to respond, and after a while he got up and turned on a light, and went into the kitchen to start making dinner. They talked of inconsequential things during the meal, as though nothing had happened, though Jaehyun knew Changmin had said all he needed to say and was now letting him make up his own mind. So after dinner Jaehyun went upstairs and called his parents, and told them he’d come home for Christmas at least, and would stay for New Year’s if he felt up to it. He could hear the smiles in his parents’ voices over the phone. 

~~

The next day when school let out he caught a ride home right after school with a girl he vaguely knew from one of his classes, since he couldn’t quite endure all the kids exuberantly rejoicing about school being out and talking about their plans for the break. One of the kids in the crowd was, of course, Yuta, his usual ride. He said a quick goodbye to him and made up an iffy reason he had to be home immediately, which Yuta was too distracted to closely examine anyway. 

When he got home, he grabbed his bike, which he hadn’t ridden since it had been much warmer–the brakes squealed worse than ever–and ignored the stinging air as he headed out towards the river. The cold snap of the past couple weeks had finally frozen the river over, and it curved white and opaque between its snow-dusted banks. There hadn’t been enough snow yet to make the banks impassable, but it was hard to breathe with the cold air in his face and it took him longer than he remembered to make it to the tree.

Finally, it loomed up ahead of him. It has lost all its leaves, which Jaehyun should have expected after passing all the other bare trees along the way, but it still caught him by surprise. The tree was no less magnificent, its silhouette stark against the clear sky. He’d be going back home tomorrow. Only for a few days, at most a week, but it still felt significant and daunting. It felt like he needed to say something to this place, a goodbye or a thank you. Even though he’d be back. He’d definitely be back. 

He let his bike drop onto the frozen ground, and stared up at the branches. His breath clouded up in front of his face. He touched the trunk. His knuckles were red and raw from the cold, brightly alive against the bark. He leaned forward and rested his forehead against it and thought about summer. 

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but a whooshing noise made him lift his head, and when he did he saw that the angle of the sun had changed, though it still hadn’t set. He turned. He knew what the whooshing sound was: the crunch of bike wheels over snow and frozen ground. He knew who it would be. It seemed only fitting, somehow. 

He saw the moment when Taeyong saw him, because his bike suddenly swerved, as though his hands on the handlebars had flinched. Jaehyun thought he might turn around and go back the way he’d come. But he only steadied himself and kept biking towards the tree. Warily, Jaehyun imagined. 

Taeyong stopped some distance away. “What are you doing here?” 

It was so reminiscent of the way they’d first met that Jaehyun nearly laughed. He shrugged instead. “I haven’t been here in a long time.” 

“I know,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun couldn’t read his tone, or his face. Was he disappointed Jaehyun was here now? Or disappointed he hadn’t come sooner? Taeyong pushed off the ground and coasted forward, under the stretch of the branches. He propped his bike neatly on its kickstand, then stood looking out at the frozen water and not at Jaehyun. 

“So, what are you doing for break?” Taeyong asked after a minute, overly casual. He still looked only at the river. 

“I’m going back home, to see my parents,” Jaehyun said, testing out the words to see if they felt real yet. But before he’d even finished speaking Taeyong had whirled around, startling him. 

“So that’s it then,” Taeyong said. 

“What?” 

“You’re going back.” 

“Just for Christmas,” Jaehyun said, frowning. 

Taeyong snorted, kicked the frozen ground, stared at the tree trunk. 

“What?” Jaehyun snapped, feeling a rush of anger flood his face with sudden heat. Taeyong had barely talked to him in months, and then the one time they had spoken, that snowy afternoon in the library, it had felt like there was something there, like maybe they both wished things had gone differently. So why was he suddenly showing up with some sort of attitude? Was he that mad that Jaehyun had returned to this stupid tree? It wasn’t like the place belonged to Taeyong. It was fucking nature for god’s sake. 

Taeyong turned and glared at him, and Jaehyun felt the heat in his face rise higher, his own anger justified in the face of Taeyong’s equally pissed off expression. 

“You’ll just go back to your real life now, I guess,” Taeyong said. 

“Seriously, what the fuck are you even talking about?” Jaehyun said. “I told you it’s just for Christmas. And how is it even your business what I do?” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong bit out, “You’re right. It’s not my business.” He was pacing, taking steps towards the tree and then turning away, then abruptly turning back and leaning against the truck–practically throwing himself against it. He kicked one heel back repeatedly against the roots. 

“Are you mad?” Jaehyun asked. It was obvious Taeyong was mad. 

“Why would I be mad?” Taeyong snapped. 

“I have no idea!” Jaehyun said, throwing up his hands. “I don’t get you at all!” 

“Of course you don’t!” Taeyong said, his voice rising. “And I don’t fucking get you either. Why would we? We don’t talk. And I know that was all my fault, but I tried to apologize ages ago, and you didn’t even care!” 

“What are you talking about?” Jaehyun yelled. 

“In the library! You know what, nevermind,” Taeyong said. He tipped his head back against the trunk, blinking hard. “I have no right to be mad.” 

Jaehyun was still racking his brain for what Taeyong was talking about, his thoughts a blur of anger and confusion. He seemed to vaguely remember seeing Taeyong in the town library once… the summer sun streaming through the front doors, peeking through the bookshelf to catch a glimpse of him. But had Taeyong apologized? Had they even talked? That part of the summer still felt dampened and blurred in his memories. 

“So much for that fucking fresh start,” Taeyong said, quieter now. The color was high in his cheeks, and his eyes were bright. His breath misted in front of him and softened all his edges. 

“I’m only going for Christmas,” Jaehyun said weakly. 

“Sure,” Taeyong said. “Until you see your family again, and the city, and remember that’s where you really belong.” 

Jaehyun stepped forward, angry again just like that–he didn’t like being told how he was feeling. Especially when it was so far off the mark. “It’s not like that,” he said, his hands up like he might grab Taeyong and shake him when he got close enough. “You don’t know anything.” 

Taeyong looked straight at him, something ugly and spiteful in the curve of his usually beautiful mouth that didn’t match the softer more frightened look in his eyes. “You already forgot about me, now you can go back and forget about everything else here in this useless town.”

Jaehyun did grab him then, twisted his cold fingers into Taeyong’s collar and slammed him back against the tree trunk. “You don’t know anything,” he hissed, and yanked Taeyong’s collar just so he could knock him back into the tree again, harder this time, harder than he really meant, but that awful smirk wouldn’t leave Taeyong’s mouth even when he gasped from the impact and it was the worst thing he’d ever seen. “You seriously don’t know a fucking thing.” And he yanked Taeyong’s collar again, meant to shove him into the tree one last time and almost did but instead his fingers tightened and then he kissed him, too hard, on the mouth. 

He could barely feel his nose or cheeks in the cold and all he registered was how startlingly hot Taeyong’s lips were in comparison, and all at once the heat seemed to fill him, flooding through his body beneath his chilled skin, a different heat than the angry one from a moment before. Taeyong made a noise–surprise? disgust?–and Jaehyun’s fingers scrabbled for a moment in his collar, pulling him closer, his mouth shifting. His nose was pressed into Taeyong’s cheek and his eyes were screwed shut and he could barely breathe. They were crushed so tightly together he really wasn’t sure this could even be called a kiss but he never wanted to stop. 

Taeyong’s back hit the tree again and the impact reverberated into Jaehyun’s hands and mouth and he pulled away fast, startled, staring. Taeyong stared back, just as shocked. At least this expression was familiar again, Jaehyun thought, with a flush of relief that was ridiculous considering he’d just ruined things even more completely, more permanently, more hopelessly, than they already had been. 

“Fuck,” he said. He pulled off his hat and ran his hand through his hair. “Fuck.” Maybe he really shouldn’t come back to River’s Bend after Christmas after all, maybe he should just leave forever. That had to be better than facing Taeyong every day after this. 

“Yeah, fuck,” said Taeyong faintly, and he reached out and grabbed Jaehyun’s neck and pulled him back against him. 

This time, it was definitely a kiss. Jaehyun wondered, fleetingly, if Taeyong had done this before, but very quickly decided that he could only be grateful for getting to reap the benefits of whatever practice Taeyong may have had. Taeyong’s mouth opening against his was a revelation, unlike anything he’d ever felt or even imagined. Wetter than expected, and warmer, and sweeter. So much sweeter. His chest burned with the sweetness of it and he only wanted more. Taeyong’s fingers were cold against the back of his neck, against his jaw and ears and cheeks. The kiss was gentler this time, or perhaps just better angled; he could still breathe, there was no reason to pull away to gasp for air so he didn’t. He kissed Taeyong endlessly, let himself be kissed. He wondered if Taeyong liked the feel of this as much as he did. He wondered if he was doing it right. He wondered if all the things he hadn’t been able to say were pouring into the kiss and if this was how they’d be able to understand each other again, after all this time. He slipped his tongue into Taeyong’s mouth and marveled when Taeyong didn’t pull away, when he pulled him closer instead, pinning himself between Jaehyun and the tree. Even through their coats, they were pressed so tightly together that Jaehyun could feel Taeyong against him, his chest rising and falling, his stomach, his sharp knees and hips, his–oh. Oh god, he could feel his… Taeyong was… because of him—

Taeyong’s hands found his shoulders then, and suddenly Jaehyun was stumbling back, realizing only belatedly that he’d been pushed. They stared at each other. He had no idea what state he was in, but he had to imagine he wasn’t any more composed than Taeyong, who was panting and flushed against the tree, shoving his hands into his coat pockets and shifting his weight. His eyes didn’t leave Jaehyun’s face, and they were darker and wider than ever, full of heat despite the cold.

“Holy shit,” Taeyong gasped, finally, and his voice shook, and Jaehyun felt that burning sweetness in his chest again, and somewhere deeper. He wanted to kiss him again. He wanted to unzip Taeyong’s coat and feel how warm he was underneath. He was dizzy and amazed. 

Taeyong steadied himself against the tree, bent and picked up Jaehyun’s hat where it had fallen in the snow and held it out to him. “I should go,” he said. 

Jaehyun took the hat automatically, and Taeyong grabbed his bike and started walking with it quickly away. Jaehyun’s head swam. He hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet, and Taeyong was leaving. 

“Wait,” Jaehyun said. His voice was wrecked, useless. “Wait, Taeyong,” he tried again, louder. Taeyong didn’t stop. “Taeyong!” There was no way Taeyong hadn’t heard him now, but he kept going, pushing his bike stubbornly beside him, getting further and further away, leaving, nearly out of earshot—

“ Why do you keep running away from me? ” Jaehyun screamed. 

Taeyong stopped. Jaehyun was breathless, startled by the sound of his own voice in the silent frozen landscape and by the words he had said. He could practically see Taeyong trying to convince himself to keep walking, not to turn back. Jaehyun started walking after him, and then running, though he had no idea what more he could say. He felt hot, not only with the kiss still lingering on his lips, but with everything, all these long months. Too much to truly feel so all he felt was hot. 

Taeyong still didn’t turn even when he heard Jaehyun approaching, even when Jaehyun reached him and stopped. “I’m not,” Taeyong said, but his voice was quiet, like he didn’t even believe himself.  

“You are,” Jaehyun said to Taeyong’s back. “Even the very first day we met you ran away.” 

Taeyong spun around at this, so quickly he let go of his bike and it tipped over into the snow, when he was usually so careful with it. “I didn’t even know you!”

“And that other time at the tree, you ran away from me again, and you did know me then. And then, at the end, that day in my room… you ran away then too.” 

“Fine,” Taeyong said, agitated. “Yeah, I ran away, because I kept messing up!” 

“So what?” Jaehyun said.

“What do you mean ‘so what!’” Taeyong burst out. “I was making everything worse for you! Why would you want me around anyway?” 

Jaehyun looked at him and burned. “You didn’t even wait to see if I wanted you around or not!” He tried to catch his breath. “Fine, okay, after I told you about… my friend, yeah, I was bothered by how you looked at me, like I’d changed or something. But I was just scared. I was scared that what I told you had warped the way you saw me and you weren’t going to really understand me anymore. That you wouldn’t like me. But of course it changed the way you saw me, of course you freaked out. You didn’t do anything wrong, what I expected was just too much in the first place. I was the one who decided to tell you, I was the one who decided you were going to make everything better, all of it, when that’s totally impossible, when I’ll probably be messed up for the rest of my life. You didn’t ask for anything like that. But… I did want you around, I did. I didn’t want you to give up so easily. I wanted you to stay, and talk to me, and—I know that’s so fucking unfair, I know, but even now, even still….” Jaehyun ran out of breath and shuddered into silence. 

“No, I,” Taeyong faltered. “It’s not unfair…. Jaehyun, don’t cry.” 

Jaehyun flinched and touched his face and found it wet with tears, and discovering that he was already crying made it impossible to stop and the tears came harder, scorching against his cold cheeks, faster than he could wipe them away. “I didn’t want things to be like this,” he choked. He could feel Taeyong staring at him, see his shocked face through the blur of his tears, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be embarrassed anymore. “I didn’t want you to go.” 

“I’m sorry,” Taeyong said. “I didn’t mean to, I didn’t know—”

“You don’t have to be sorry,” Jaehyun said. “Stop saying sorry and just….” He gestured helplessly, his fingertips wet. “You kissed me back right? You wanted to kiss me too, right?” 

There was silence, for a moment, and Jaehyun’s chest seized.  

“Yeah,” Taeyong whispered. “I wanted to kiss you.” 

Jaehyun’s chest opened again. “So don’t just keep apologizing and feeling bad. I’m the one who’s sorry. This summer, all of it, it wasn’t you. I wasn’t ready. And I don’t–” his breath caught– “I don’t know if I’m ready now either, but I want to be. Just, please don’t run away this time, not after kissing me like that. Not after so much time without you.” Jaehyun wiped his cheeks again, sagging into himself a little, spent. 

“Okay,” Taeyong said. He still looked a little baffled, but his voice was gentle. He stepped forward and reached up hesitantly, and when Jaehyun didn’t flinch away he wiped his cheeks with his sleeves, clumsy and a little too rough, like this wasn’t something he’d ever done before. And it probably wasn’t–Jaehyun couldn’t imagine anyone else had burst into tears in front of him like this. Certainly not right after being kissed. “It’s getting dark,” Taeyong said. 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun. 

Taeyong was still close, a little shorter than he was and looking up at him, still wiping at his face though Jaehyun had mostly stopped crying. “I really missed you,” Taeyong said softly, and then louder, slightly frantic, “Oh no, don’t start crying again because of that. ” 

Jaehyun smiled wetly and wiped at his own eyes. 

“Wait here,” Taeyong said. “I’ll get your bike.” 

Jaehyun listened to his quick footsteps receding in the snow and looked around, at the frozen river, and the clear darkening sky. It was so beautiful out here. The air calmed his thoughts, a little, and froze his tears. 

They walked their bikes back towards town, slowly. Jaehyun realized, as his tears stopped and he was left blinking tender eyelids in their wake, that this was the second time he’d cried like this at the tree. He wondered how crying could feel so different, when it looked and sounded so much the same every time. He wondered how many versions of sadness there were and how many he would feel in his lifetime. It seemed like he’d already felt more than his fair share. 

He awkwardly maneuvered his bike to the other side of his body and walked closer to Taeyong, knocking shoulders with every other step. It was reassuring, though it kept making Taeyong stumble slightly in the snow. Finally Taeyong elbowed him, and Jaehyun smiled, a little. 

“You know, aren’t you the one who’s running away this time?” Taeyong asked, as they reached the bridge. 

“I’m only going for Christmas.” Jaehyun grabbed Taeyong’s arm. “I’m serious, I’m coming back. I’ll be back.” He only noticed then that Taeyong was smirking, not the ugly almost cruel expression he’d worn before, but a gentler, amused one. 

“You better be,” Taeyong said, and started walking again. 

“You really didn’t want me to leave, huh,” Jaehyun said. His sniffly voice somewhat ruined the effect of his teasing but it felt good anyway. 

“I guess I didn’t,” Taeyong said, and bumped gently into him this time. 

“I can’t believe you thought I forgot about you,” Jaehyun said. And then, quieter, serious, “I can’t believe you thought that was even possible.” 

Taeyong didn’t look at him, but Jaehyun could see, as they walked side by side over the bridge into town, the perfect angle of his cheek go pink.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong stared up at the dim ceiling of his bedroom and wished he was asleep so his mind might stop racing. He’d watched his phone screen count away the last hours of Christmas; it had passed midnight ages ago and he was still awake. He’d been like this for days, and was already dreading having to return to school in another week now that he’d so thoroughly messed up his sleep schedule. He’d come to the conclusion that kissing a boy the day before that boy left town was extremely unwise. 

But… what a kiss it had been. He’d replayed it so many times that he kept expecting he’d go numb to it, but whenever it popped into his head the memory still made his stomach drop and his skin heat. It had been so shocking, at first, and then when the shock passed it had just been so… hot. Taeyong thought it probably deserved a more poetic description but he couldn’t come up with anything better and really he had never appreciated before how appropriate the word could be. Even in the snow and the December air he’d heated up as soon as Jaehyun’s lips touched his own–no, as soon as Jaehyun grabbed his collar. No, if he was honest he’d started feeling warm as soon as he’d gotten close enough to the tree to see Jaehyun standing there, though he had never imagined then that he was only minutes away from having Jaehyun kiss him up against that tree like he never wanted to stop. He’d been left burning ever since. 

It was getting inconvenient, to be honest. He’d never thought particularly hard about his sex drive or anything before. He definitely had one, to an extent he was pretty sure was basically normal for anyone his age, it just hadn’t been a particularly pressing concern, since it had never really been focused on anyone he actually knew. He’d had a few crushes, sure, on boys he mostly watched from afar; and there were celebrities, and porn, sometimes, and his own active imagination. But there had never been anyone real making him feel this way. And now there was, and he was starting to grow a little concerned by how frequently and easily this got him excited. Not to mention the fact that he’d definitely embarrassed himself during the kiss itself with how he… reacted. He was pretty sure Jaehyun hadn’t reacted the same way, and he kept switching between feeling anxious about his own humiliating lack of self-control, and feeling anxious that it wasn’t about self-control at all, but a matter of Jaehyun’s lower level of interest. He’d kissed him first, sure, but it had been an emotional moment. Maybe Jaehyun didn’t want him like that . So some of the burning Taeyong had been left with was just embarrassment, since while he’d been walking awkwardly away, totally hard after just a kiss (a stunning kiss, but still), Jaehyun had, literally, burst into tears. They clearly had bigger issues to deal with, such as getting to know each other again after months of not talking, and Taeyong really needed to get his mind out of the gutter. 

He squinted at his phone again. Past 2 AM now. He opened his messages, scrolled back through the endless texts of the past few days with Jaehyun. Eventually he got to the place where the messages skipped from December back to a date in early July. But it took a lot of scrolling to get there: they’d been talking constantly ever since the kiss. Mostly it was lighthearted, though catching up after so much time had passed came with its own weightiness that turned even inconsequential stories into something more significant. Taeyong kept thinking, I should have been around for that when it happened. I should have heard about it first. But he was trying to remind himself that regret wouldn’t help them get closer again now.

He scrolled back down to the most recent message, just a few hours before, from Jaehyun: Night, and Merry Christmas again , with an emoji that Taeyong’s stupid brain had decided looked convincingly like Jaehyun’s real smile. Now he was having rather mushy sentimental feelings about an emoji, which wasn’t concerning at all. 

So he blamed the emoji and the way it was cutely squinting at him for what he did next, which was text Jaehyun, with all the cleverness he could muster at two in the morning, You awake?  

Taeyong at least knew better than to think Jaehyun actually would be, so he was about to drop his phone back onto his bedside table and try to finally sleep, when little typing dots appeared on the screen. He nearly dropped his phone on his face instead. The dots disappeared, then reappeared, disappeared and reappeared again. Then, finally: Yeah :) You couldn’t sleep either? 

Obviously not, Taeyong replied, and got an eyeroll emoji back from Jaehyun in return. 

Why not? Jaehyun asked. 

You screwed up my sleep schedule, Taeyong typed back. 

He nearly dropped his phone on his face again when it suddenly vibrated in his hand. “Hello?” he whispered.

“How did I mess up your sleep schedule?” Jaehyun asked indignantly. 

“You keep talking to me all night instead of letting me sleep,” Taeyong said. His cheeks were already hot. For absolutely no reason, he told himself. Definitely not because of Jaehyun’s low voice, half-whispered in his ear. 

Jaehyun laughed, and Taeyong’s cheeks got warmer. 

“You literally just texted me at two in the morning. Clearly you want to be talking to me more than you want to be sleeping.” 

Taeyong stared at the ceiling. It was easier not to pretend in the dark. “Yeah.” 

“I like talking to you too,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong could hear the smile in his voice. “Though I really was about to fall asleep.” 

“You’re in bed?” Taeyong asked, then wanted to kick himself, because where else would Jaehyun be at this hour?

“Where else would I be?” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong let out a surprised laugh and managed not to make a complete fool of himself by asking what Jaehyun was wearing. 

“How was your Christmas?” he asked instead. 

Jaehyun hesitated. Taeyong had been reminding himself not to freak out every time Jaehyun took a moment to think before he spoke. He thought it might have been a new thing, these careful silences. They weren’t the same as those times he’d totally spaced out over the summer. But it had been so long Taeyong wasn’t sure he could really trust his memory enough to compare what Jaehyun had been like back then to who he was now. 

“It was nice,” Jaehyun said finally. “It’s been nice being here, and it’s also been weird.” He didn’t elaborate and Taeyong didn’t push. He wasn’t sure it would be good for either of them to get back to that place of sharing their deepest thoughts and feelings again too quickly. “How was yours?” Jaehyun asked. 

“The usual,” Taeyong said, and told him about his day. It was new to be talking about his relatives to someone who didn’t already know them all. He had an older cousin who’d gotten married and moved not only out of River’s Bend but all the way overseas, and she’d returned for the first time in years with her two-year-old who no one in the family had met yet. “So that took up everyone’s attention, obviously,” he finished. 

Jaehyun started talking about how his parents had argued endlessly with his mom’s oldest sister, whose house they usually went to on Christmas day, about how they wouldn’t be going this year. He’d overheard his mom fighting with his aunt over the phone and realized for the first time that they were actual siblings, which he seemed to find hilarious. “My mom seriously sounded like she could have been twelve,” Jaehyun said. “My aunt’s so bossy too, like even as an adult. I can only imagine what she was like to grow up with.” 

“Why didn’t you go this year?” Taeyong asked.

“Oh,” Jaehyun hesitated. “Well, ‘cause of me. You know.” 

“Oh, right,” Taeyong caught his breath. “Sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said, and maybe he’d just gotten good at faking it but Taeyong thought he really did sound like it was fine. “I felt kind of bad for causing so many problems. But my parents have been kind of cool about it. I mean, my mom yelled at her big sister just for me.” He laughed again, softly. 

“I’m sure your parents don’t think of it as you causing problems,” Taeyong said. 

“Maybe not,” said Jaehyun, though he sounded unconvinced. “Sometimes I kind of forget everything’s different now. Like, being back here, a lot hasn’t changed at all. Which makes it weirder when I remember that he’s gone.” 

“What–” Taeyong started, then stopped. 

“What?” Jaehyun asked. 

“No, nothing, nevermind.”

“Just ask,” Jaehyun said. “My therapist keeps telling me I’m allowed to tell people when I don’t want to talk about something. You’re not going to mess me up any more than I already am just by asking.” 

“Jeez, you’re not messed up.”

“Just ask, Taeyong. It’s okay.” 

“Fine,” Taeyong said. “Then what was he like? Your friend.” 

Jaehyun fell quiet, and Taeyong was just thinking to himself that he really shouldn’t have asked, when Jaehyun took a breath and started speaking. 

“He was funny. He was funny and like, actually nice. Not in a fake way. Like he was just a really good person even as a kid. Everyone loved him and he was actually someone who deserved it, you know? He was super outgoing. I guess we both were. Except when I was with him, I think I was different from how I was with anybody else. Like I was funny and nice and outgoing but I didn’t give everything to just anybody. I didn’t really care about just anybody. But I don’t think he was ever not who he really was.” Jaehyun was quiet for a minute. 

Taeyong was quiet too, thinking about how different he was from what Jaehyun was describing. He’d never be able to be a friend like the one Jaehyun had lost. Jaehyun didn’t give everything to just anybody , but he’d given everything to this friend who was such a good person, who sounded so reliable and confident and fun, and Taeyong could never measure up to that. Even thinking such things at a time like this proved how selfish and immature he really was.

“He sounds really special,” he said gently, and meant it, though his chest ached. 

“Yeah. Or, I don’t know,” Jaehyun said, his voice softer, thoughtful. “I worry I’m remembering him better than he really was. I probably am. He wasn’t a saint or anything. I know we fought sometimes and I remember he could be kind of oblivious. Like he cared about everyone but that meant his attention got stretched kind of thin. Which sounds like me being jealous. I guess because I was, I would get jealous,” Jaehyun laughed a little, then sighed. “It was probably good he was oblivious to some stuff.” This last part was so quiet Taeyong wasn’t sure he’d been meant to hear it. 

“Were you… just friends?” Taeyong asked. 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun. He didn’t ask what Taeyong meant, or sound surprised, and Taeyong thought there was something in that but didn’t ask anything more. So much for not sharing their deepest thoughts. 

After a moment Jaehyun said, “His name was Haru, by the way. I’ve been trying not to be scared of saying it.” 

“That’s good,” Taeyong said hesitantly. “You seem different than in the summer, you know.” 

“Good different? Or bad different?” 

“If you were bad different I wouldn’t be talking to you at 2 AM on Christmas, would I?” Taeyong said. 

“Aw, I’m touched,” Jaehyun said, sounding amused. “You are too.” 

“What?” 

“Different.” 

“Nah,” Taeyong said. “I’ve been the same for forever.” 

“That’s obviously not true. And anyway, I’ve seen it. You seem different.” 

“Good different?” 

“Well, not bad different, at least,” Jaehyun said.

“Wow, that’s sweet of you,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun laughed. “You seem like, grown up or something. Or maybe just less scared of me?” 

“I was never scared of you!”

“Fine, not scared. Less flustered, less easy to throw off, I don’t know.” 

“I mean, I am more grown up than you,” Taeyong smirked.

“Barely. But I don’t mean age.” 

“You’re wrong anyway. You do still throw me off,” Taeyong said, and then reconsidered if it was wise to have admitted this. 

Jaehyun laughed quietly. “That’s a relief, because you throw me off too. A lot.” 

Taeyong made a disbelieving sound. They were quiet for a long stretch, Taeyong getting distracted by Jaehyun’s breathing through the speaker against his ear, soft and even. It made his chest feel warm. He rolled onto his side, pressing the phone between his pillow and his ear, and listened. 

“Jaehyun?” 

“Hm?” 

“You still awake?” 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun, but he sounded like he wouldn’t be for much longer. 

“When are you coming back?” Taeyong asked. He’d been avoiding bringing this up–avoiding even thinking about it. He’d been angry, like an idiot, when he’d first heard that Jaehyun was going back to the city for the holiday. But once he got past that misplaced reaction, he could tell that Jaehyun’s visit home was a big deal for him, and wasn’t easy. He didn’t want Jaehyun to feel any more stress about it than he already did. Taeyong could wait. Though apparently not as patiently as he thought. 

Jaehyun made a sleepy sound and Taeyong could hear rustling. He tried, and failed, not to picture Jaehyun rolling around in his bed. When Jaehyun spoke again he sounded more muffled than before. “It’s freezing,” he mumbled. 

Taeyong laughed quietly. “Don’t you have blankets? And like, heat?” 

“I’m under the blankets. Still cold. Are you cold?” 

“Uh, no,” said Taeyong. He definitely wasn’t cold. 

“Hm, you should warm me up then,” Jaehyun said. 

“W-what are you even saying,” Taeyong tried to laugh, tried not to let Jaehyun’s words inspire any images in his mind. 

“I’ll be back soon,” Jaehyun said, his voice drawn out. He was nearly asleep. 

“Before New Year’s?” Taeyong asked. He couldn’t help it. He was burning. 

“Mmhm,” Jaehyun said. “When I get back, give me a hug, okay, to keep me warm?” 

Taeyong smiled and blushed. “Yeah, okay.”

“And a kiss?” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong said. 

“And….” 

Taeyong held his breath. “And?” The line stayed silent. “Jaehyun?” 

He listened to Jaehyun’s even breaths, and sighed, pressing his hot face into the pillow. Just moments ago they’d been talking about Jaehyun’s friend–which mattered, which was the type of thing Taeyong should focus on, because it was important that Jaehyun could talk about it if he wanted to–and now he was getting horny over absolutely nothing. The whiplash was going to kill him. “G’night, Jaehyun,” he said quietly, and ended the call, embarrassed and a little confused, mostly at himself. But he could feel the smile lingering on his face as he finally closed his eyes. 

~~

Taeyong was practically vibrating with anticipation on the afternoon of New Year’s Eve, nearly a week later. Despite Jaehyun’s sleepy assurance that he’d be back soon, he’d ended up staying with his parents, and Taeyong had nearly gone crazy holding himself back from asking him when exactly “soon” would be. But finally, yesterday, Jaehyun had texted him that he’d be back the following day. In time for New Year’s, like he’d said. 

“Are you even listening?” Doyoung asked. 

Taeyong jumped and blinked at him. “What?” 

“Wow,” Doyoung shook his head. They were sprawled in Doyoung’s room, Taeyong on his bed and Doyoung on a chair by the window, savoring the last few days of their vacation by doing absolutely nothing. “I was asking if you have any New Year’s resolutions,” Doyoung said. 

“Who really makes New Year’s resolutions?” Taeyong said. 

“People who want to better themselves.” 

Taeyong scoffed. “Fine, what are yours then?” 

“I’m going to ask Yuta out,” Doyoung said. 

Taeyong rolled onto his stomach and stared at him. “What?” 

“I said— ”

“No, I mean, you like Yuta?” 

“Oh great, so my best friend hasn’t only been spacing out this afternoon. You clearly haven’t been listening to me for months!” Doyoung threw up his arms. 

“You never said you liked him! And I do listen to you!”

“I never said it,” said Doyoung, “But if you were really paying attention you’d have guessed by now.” 

“Why, because you ask me what color he painted his nails or dyed his hair like every other week? Even though his nails have been black and his hair has been bleached since last year?” 

“Exactly! Why else would I care about any of that?” 

Taeyong laughed and rolled onto his back again. “You’re insane.” 

“I’m not insane, I just have a crush,” Doyoung said. “Not that I’d expect you to get it.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taeyong asked. 

“Obviously, I’m referring to the fact that you’ve never had a crush,” Doyoung said. 

“I’ve had crushes,” Taeyong protested. 

“Ogling my brother’s friends who you’ve never said more than two words to doesn’t count as a crush, Taeyong.” 

“I don’t ogle,” Taeyong muttered. He hoped Doyoung couldn’t tell he was blushing from where he was sitting, or that if he could he’d just assume it was a reaction to his teasing. He’d nearly told Doyoung about kissing Jaehyun after it happened. He still felt like he might burst if he couldn’t tell someone . But he wasn’t sure how to tell Doyoung about the kiss without having to explain everything else–for all Doyoung knew, he and Jaehyun had barely been on speaking terms, let alone kissing terms, since July. And even without all that mess, maybe Jaehyun wouldn’t want anyone to know they’d kissed. Doyoung was his best friend, and he definitely trusted him with all his secrets, but he wasn’t sure he was allowed to extend that trust on Jaehyun’s behalf. His secrets had never been so complicated before, so he’d never had to figure this all out. 

Taeyong’s phone buzzed and he snatched it up. Even though he was expecting it–even though he’d looked up Jaehyun’s bus ages ago and memorized the time it was supposed to arrive–it still made his stomach flip to see Jaehyun’s name on the screen. Just got off the bus. And then, a moment later, You home?  

At Doyoung’s, Taeyong texted back. 

Are you guys doing anything for New Year’s? Jaehyun asked. Taeyong had started typing his response, that they’d probably stay up watching old movies until midnight with Doyoung’s family, when Jaehyun texted again, I want to see you. 

“Oh my god, do you have a crush?” 

“What?” Taeyong sat up and found Doyoung watching him. He’d nearly forgotten he was there. 

“Who are you texting?” 

Taeyong hesitated. “Jaehyun.” 

“Really?” Doyoung raised his eyebrows. “So you guys worked things out then?” 

“I… guess?” Taeyong said. 

“That history project really worked wonders,” said Doyoung. “Did you ever find out what happened to make him give you the cold shoulder?” 

Taeyong shifted awkwardly. 

“Wait,” Doyoung leaned forward. “You already knew what happened.”

Taeyong glanced at him guiltily and then looked away. 

“Oh my god, are you serious?” Doyoung said. “Since when?” 

“Uh….” 

“You’ve known this whole time, haven’t you?” Doyoung sagged back into his chair, looking defeated. “Why didn’t you say anything? Why’d you just let me wonder, like an idiot?” 

“It wasn’t really my place to say,” Taeyong mumbled. 

Doyoung narrowed his eyes. “You could have just told me that. I mean give me some credit, I wouldn’t force it out of you.” 

“Sorry,” Taeyong said. “I’ve never not been able to tell you everything before.”

Doyoung sighed. “Why do you have such a knack for making me feel bad every time I’m annoyed at you?” 

“That can’t possibly be true,” Taeyong said. “You’re always annoyed at me.” 

“No, I mean when I’m actually annoyed. Stop looking at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

“Like you’re a tiny adorable puppy I just kicked.” 

Taeyong snorted, and Doyoung sighed again and rolled his eyes. 

“I shouldn’t have been so weird about not telling you,” Taeyong said. “Seriously, I felt bad about it, I just didn’t know what to say. Or not say.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” said Doyoung, which Taeyong knew meant he was forgiven. “Is he okay though? Actually, are you okay? He’s not some manipulative psychopath who stops talking to people when they offend him the tiniest bit, just so he can make them beg for forgiveness and keep them under his control forever, right?” 

“No, Jesus, what kind of TV do you watch? He’s just been dealing with a lot,” Taeyong said. 

“And now it’s dealt with, so he’s back to texting you?” 

“No, not exactly,” Taeyong said. It was on the tip of his tongue again: He kissed me, and I kissed him back, and it was incredible. “We’re just trying to be friends again, I guess. We’ll see.” 

“Is he around? He should come over for New Year’s,” Doyoung said. 

Taeyong glanced at him. “Come over here?” 

“Sure,” said Doyoung. “I missed him too, you know. And I’m starting to get the sense that he only stopped talking to me because of whatever was going on with you. I was just an innocent bystander!”

Taeyong just rolled his eyes. Doyoung was right, of course, but it was usually best not to tell him so. 

Doyoung started raising his eyebrows significantly in the direction of Taeyong’s phone. 

“Fine,” Taeyong said, and started typing, Doyoung says you can come over too if you want. 

“Oh my god, could you sound any less enthusiastic?” Doyoung said, leaning over Taeyong’s shoulder. 

“Go away!” Taeyong yelped, trying to angle his body to block his phone. 

“At least make it sound like you wouldn’t be absolutely miserable if he actually showed up,” Doyoung said. “Seriously, if this is how your texts usually sound then it’s no wonder he stopped talking to you for months.” 

Taeyong turned and glared, and Doyoung put up his hands and backed off. “That was mean,” Taeyong said. 

Doyoung smiled apologetically. “Sorry. Too soon, I know.” 

“Yeah,” said Taeyong. But he deleted what he’d typed. “I actually felt pretty bad about the whole thing, you know.” 

Doyoung looked at him, his expression softening. “Yeah. I mean, no, I didn’t really know, since you didn’t tell me about any of it. But I could sort of tell. You were really into him over the summer.” Taeyong looked at him sharply, startled, feeling like he needed to deny something, defend himself. But Doyoung just gestured at his phone. “Ask him to come over. He straight up said he wants to see you, the least you can do is make it sound like you might actually want to see him too.” 

Taeyong stared back at his screen, at Jaehyun’s last message which, of course, Doyoung had seen. His cheeks flushed, and when he glanced at Doyoung again he could tell he was trying not to smile. It didn’t feel mean, anymore, but it was still embarrassing. At this rate Doyoung would figure out they’d kissed without Taeyong even having to decide whether he should tell him or not. 

He typed, Do you want to come to Doyoung’s tonight? And then, under Doyoung’s skeptical gaze, even though he could no longer see Taeyong’s phone, added, It was his idea, so it’s totally fine. And then, blushing and slouching over the screen as though he could disappear into it, You should come.  

His phone buzzed a moment later. “He said sure,” Taeyong said, blinking at the notification on the screen and trying not to smile like an idiot. 

“There, that wasn’t so hard,” Doyoung said. “I expect you to help me just as much when it comes to asking out Yuta. Only fair.” 

“I’m not asking him out! That’s completely different!” 

Doyoung only laughed. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun had greatly underestimated, when he responded to Taeyong’s text a few hours before, how awkward spending New Year’s Eve with Doyoung’s entire family would really be. He had been too stupidly excited just to have Taeyong invite him anywhere to really think before he agreed to come. Now he was sitting–really, drowning–in an extremely plush armchair that was clearly the seat of honor in Doyoung’s living room. It felt more like a seat for an outsider. Nearly everyone else was squished together on the couch or sprawled around on the floor, except for Doyoung’s mother, who seemed unable to sit down for more than five minutes at a time. Taeyong had ended up on the couch next to Doyoung’s older brother and one of their little cousins, a girl of about ten who Jaehyun was certain had a huge crush on Taeyong, and who had now fallen asleep half in Taeyong’s lap. Everyone seemed to find this adorable and Doyoung’s aunt had even taken a picture, but Jaehyun suspected she was only pretending to sleep, the sneaky little brat. 

There had been an old movie playing earlier in the night, which everyone had cheerfully ignored, and now that it was close to midnight they’d switched to the TV coverage showing all the celebrations around the world and counting down to midnight. Doyoung’s family seemed a lot like Doyoung himself. Everyone talked over each other and argued in a good natured way that Jaehyun, as an only child, had never really experienced, not even with Haru, who after all was only one person, not a roomful of noisy relatives. They were thrilled to have Jaehyun with them and seemed to show that mostly by ignoring him, possibly because they assumed everyone would be just as comfortable as they were jumping into conversations and interrupting people. Taeyong was quiet but seemed used to the entire dynamic anyway and Jaehyun could tell that Doyoung’s family was also used to having him around. Jaehyun sat in his chair feeling very much an outcast and aching a little bit for the kind of closeness they all had together. 

The upside, of course, was that Taeyong was here, and no one was paying enough attention to Jaehyun to notice or care how much he stared at him. As much as he wished he’d ended up squished next to him on the couch too, getting to look at him was almost as good. Taeyong’s hair was adorably mussed from being caught in the middle of some elaborate game between the little cousins. Jaehyun wasn’t sure if he wanted to smooth it down or make him even more disheveled.

Suddenly Doyoung, who was sitting on the floor near the TV, hushed everyone: the countdown was starting. Everyone joined in, the adults raising glasses of champagne and the kids mimicking them with glasses of juice. Jaehyun had been offered champagne along with Doyoung and Taeyong (“Just a splash never hurt anyone,” according to Doyoung’s mother), but Taeyong had gone for juice so Jaehyun did the same. 

“Four… three… two….”

Jaehyun looked away from the TV. Everyone’s faces were turned towards it, lit by the bright lights on the screen and the reflections off their raised glasses. He found Taeyong’s face through all the light, nearly dropped his glass when he saw Taeyong already looking back. 

“One… Happy New Year!”

Fireworks erupted on the TV screen and everyone around him erupted into cheers and toasts. Taeyong’s face broke into a smile, and then a laugh, still looking right at him. Jaehyun held his breath and ached. Taeyong raised his glass towards him with an amused tilt of his head, and Jaehyun raised his glass too and tried to keep his hand from shaking, and then everything dissolved into the lively chaos of celebration. He let Doyoung’s mom give him a hug and pat his cheeks, saying, “I’m so glad we have a new friend with us this year.” He lost Taeyong’s eyes as they both turned to other people and then found them again as they both turned back to each other. The fireworks reflected in Taeyong’s dark irises and Jaehyun felt on the brink of exploding himself. 

Finally, finally, the room quieted. The aunts and uncles gathered up the younger cousins and ignored their protests that they weren’t tired at all as they said goodnight and bundled up to head out into the cold night. Jaehyun struggled up out of the deep armchair. 

“I should probably head home,” he started, uncomfortable hearing his own voice so clearly in the emptier room. “Thank you—”

“Oh no,” Doyoung’s mother looked at him, concerned. “At this hour? I thought you and Taeyong would stay the night.” 

Jaehyun blushed and hoped the room was warm enough that no one would notice. “Oh, that’s okay, my uncle’s house isn’t far.” 

“Nonsense,” said Doyoung’s mother. “It’s practically a tradition. You’re staying, aren’t you honey?” She turned to Taeyong expectantly. 

“Uh,” said Taeyong, not looking at Jaehyun. 

Doyoung’s mother turned back to Jaehyun. “He’s slept over on New Year’s since he was, what, eight?” 

“Seven,” supplied Doyoung.

“I just, there won’t be room. It’s really fine, and my uncle is probably waiting—”

“There’s an air mattress,” said Doyoung’s mother.

“Mom, please, he can go sleep at his own house if he wants. Stop making him feel like a hostage,” said Doyoung. 

“Oh, no, sweetie,” Doyoung’s mother looked at Jaehyun earnestly. “I just mean you’re more than welcome. And I don’t feel right sending a kid out into the cold in the middle of the night. But, well, I probably shouldn’t drive you after all that champagne.” 

“I can walk him home,” said Taeyong. Everyone turned to look at him, including Jaehyun, who could feel the surprise etched blatantly across his own face. 

“Oh,” said Doyoung’s mother. “I don’t know….” 

“Great idea!” Doyoung said, more enthusiastically than Jaehyun thought the situation called for. Doyoung wrapped his arms around both his and Taeyong’s shoulders and started herding them towards the front door amidst his mother’s hesitant protests. In the front hall he dropped his arms and let out a breath. “Sorry about that. My mom can be a lot.” 

“She’s super nice,” said Jaehyun. 

“Yeah,” said Doyoung. “But in a way that’s a lot, right?” He didn’t wait for a response, which was good, since Jaehyun didn’t feel like it would be right to agree. Doyoung turned to Taeyong. “Are you going to come back? Or….” Jaehyun didn’t miss the way Doyoung tilted his head in his direction, and his cheeks burned. He wondered how much was behind that head tilt, or if it was just Doyoung’s usual teasing. 

“I’ll probably go home after,” said Taeyong. He was busying himself with extracting his coat from the numerous garments on a row of hooks by the door. “It’s closer than coming back, once I get to Mr. Park’s.” 

“Uh huh,” said Doyoung. “My mom’s gonna be heartbroken. But I’ll sleep better than I’ve slept on New Year’s in like a decade.” He looked at Jaehyun significantly. “He’s a maniac when he sleeps. You’ll wake up with bruises.”

“That’s a flat out lie,” said Taeyong. 

Jaehyun was pretty sure his cheeks were going to melt off his face. He grabbed his own coat and pulled his hat low over his bright red ears. “Well, this was really nice,” he said. “Thanks for having me. And tell your parents thanks, too.” 

“Happy New Year,” said Doyoung, grinning, and he held open the door for them.

The night air was sharply cold as they stepped outside. Jaehyun’s eyes adjusted to the dark street and his ears rang in the silence after the liveliness inside. They started walking towards the main road that would take them to Changmin’s house. 

“That was fun,” said Jaehyun.

“Really?” said Taeyong. “Every time I looked at you you looked mildly terrified.”

“So you were looking at me?” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong tsked softly, but he was smiling as he looked down at his feet. 

“I was looking at you too,” said Jaehyun. “Occasionally.” 

They walked along in silence for a while–and it really was silent, Jaehyun noticed. Without their voices there was no other sound. He’d gotten used to it, he’d thought, but after being back in the city for a week the deep quiet was startling again, so peaceful it was almost eerie. 

“I’m glad you came back,” said Taeyong. 

“What? I told you I would,” said Jaehyun. 

“Still.” 

“I wanted to come back,” said Jaehyun. “It was nice being home. Or, not nice, but it was good, I think, that I went. My parents were happy to see me. But I wanted to come back.” 

They turned up the side street to Changmin’s house, and walked the rest of the way in silence again. Jaehyun couldn’t tell if it was an awkward silence or not but he suspected it might be. As they approached the front gate, he slowed to a stop, looking at the house. There was a dim light coming through the kitchen window, which must have been filtering through from the living room at the back of the house. Jaehyun could picture his uncle on the couch, with the TV on but his eyes in a book, waiting for him. 

“I felt kind of bad leaving my uncle alone, actually,” he said. 

“Is it okay, living with him?” Taeyong asked. 

Jaehyun turned and leaned back against the low fence. Taeyong’s face was faintly but warmly lit by the glow from the window. “Yeah, it’s been a lot better than I expected. He sort of gets it, you know?” 

Taeyong nodded, and Jaehyun remembered again how small River’s Bend was, how everyone must have heard about it when Changmin’s wife died, and how everyone still remembered, even Taeyong, who’d just been a little kid at the time. 

“I get the sense he doesn’t want me to end up like him, though,” Jaehyun said. 

“Like him?” asked Taeyong. 

Jaehyun looked at him. “Alone.” 

Taeyong gazed back at him for a moment. “Well, now he has you, right?” 

“Yeah, I guess so,” Jaehyun said. Though he would leave this town sooner or later. 

Taeyong stamped his feet on the ground, shivering. 

“It’s cold, right? You should go home. Thanks for walking me back,” said Jaehyun, straightening off the fence. 

“Oh,” said Taeyong. “No, I’m fine.” 

Jaehyun raised an eyebrow. “So you want to just keep standing here?” 

“Um,” said Taeyong. “Do you want to… kiss me?” 

Jaehyun nearly sagged right back against the fence. “Do you want me to kiss you?” 

Taeyong opened his mouth, then seemed to reconsider. “Actually, the last time you kissed me you nearly broke my front tooth, so maybe not.” 

“What? No…. Was it really that bad?” 

Taeyong laughed. “It was pretty forceful.” 

Jaehyun groaned and stretched his beanie down over his face as far as it would go. “Well, I’d never really done that before. Sorry it was terrible.” 

“I didn’t say it was terrible,” said Taeyong. “Was that really your first kiss? That’s kind of shocking.” 

“Why’s it shocking?” said Jaehyun, into the wool of his hat. 

“I just thought you would’ve done it before, and stuff.” 

Jaehyun pushed his hat back up. “‘And stuff?’ ”

“I just mean, you seem like someone who would’ve at least kissed someone before,” said Taeyong, finally flustered. Which was a relief, it eased some of Jaehyun’s awkwardness.

“Well, no, I’m not. I mean, I wasn’t.” Jaehyun smirked and leaned closer to Taeyong, who leaned away. “Now I am. Were you?”

“What?”

“Did you kiss people before?” 

Taeyong looked away, which definitely meant yes. Something complicated happened in Jaehyun’s stomach. 

“Just once.”

“Was it Doyoung?” Jaehyun immediately wanted to kick himself, but then he noticed Taeyong’s reaction and thought he might not need to, since Taeyong might do it for him. 

“Are you kidding? God, I’m gonna throw up.” 

Jaehyun laughed. “Sorry, sorry, just a joke.” But he was relieved nonetheless. 

“Never joke about that again.” 

“Well, you were pretty good at it, so I guess I’m not surprised,” said Jaehyun, instead of asking the million other questions he wanted to know, like who and were they better than me?  

“That’s a relief.” Taeyong smirked now himself. “You did start crying right after, so I’m glad to hear that wasn’t because I’m a bad kisser.” 

Jaehyun looked at him. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” 

Taeyong winced. “Sorry, I shouldn’t joke about that.” He shifted his weight and looked both ways down the dark street. “For the record, I didn’t mind. I mean, it was definitely unexpected. But I’m glad you didn’t let me leave. I’m glad you made me listen to you. And, well, you were kinda cute, to be honest.” 

“That’s a terrible compliment.” 

“Well, it’s true,” Taeyong said, smiling again. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” Jaehyun asked. 

Taeyong looked at him for a long moment, seemed to be thinking of something to say, but then just nodded helplessly. Jaehyun grinned, and then he reached out and pulled Taeyong’s wrists. Taeyong dug his feet in and didn’t step closer, but he didn’t pull his wrists away. Jaehyun tightened his fingers into the squishy down of his winter coat. “I won’t break your teeth this time. Or cry. Probably.” 

Taeyong let out a soft laugh. Then he stepped closer and looked up, expectant and maybe a little nervous. Jaehyun had never been looked at like that before and it made his skin itchy and hot. 

Taeyong’s tongue darted out over his lips and Jaehyun followed the movement, licked his own lips, and then he leaned down and kissed him. He was being overly cautious, and his lips barely brushed against Taeyong’s, featherlight, and again, and again, kisses like little gasps. The cold air rushed over his wet lips in between and then Taeyong’s mouth warmed them again. Taeyong straightened up, standing taller; their lips met more purposely, and stayed together. Jaehyun held Taeyong’s shoulders, formless under his big coat. His lips parted and he could taste the juice Taeyong had toasted the New Year with, sweet and cloying. The street was so quiet and every hitch in Taeyong’s breath seemed deafeningly loud in Jaehyun’s ears. 

Jaehyun reached for Taeyong’s neck, met his coat collar instead, fumbled with the zipper and slid underneath to his soft warmed skin. Taeyong flinched. “Your hands are freezing,” he mumbled into Jaehyun’s mouth. 

“You said you’d warm me up,” Jaehyun whispered back. They swallowed each others words. Taeyong pressed more closely against him. Jaehyun thought of the house behind them, the heated rooms, his bedroom where it would be warm enough to shed some of the layers between them. Or all of the layers between them. The possibilities filled him with want and terror. 

“I should go in,” Jaehyun murmured, “before my uncle starts worrying.” 

Taeyong hummed against his lips, then pulled away. The distant street light glimmered off the wetness on his lower lip and Jaehyun thought maybe the want would win out over the fear after all. 

Taeyong wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and laughed softly. “You learn fast.” 

Jaehyun grinned and blushed. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah,” said Taeyong. “Happy New Year, Jaehyun.” 

The sound of his name from Taeyong’s mouth caught him off guard and it took him a second to find his voice again. “Happy New Year,” he managed, cleared his throat. “Taeyong.”

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong had started measuring time in kisses. There had been the first kiss at the tree: that was the end of the semester. And the kiss in the middle of the night outside Jaehyun’s house: New Year’s. The first week back at school after winter break there were three kisses: a furtive one before school one morning in the parking lot, a quickly-interrupted one in the bathroom at the end of lunch, and a longer one in Jaehyun’s empty kitchen after school on Friday. That one was also interrupted, though less quickly, by the return of his uncle. On the weekend there had been either a million kisses or a single, endless kiss (Taeyong wasn’t particularly concerned with the distinction). The second week of school there had been nine kisses, and that weekend five more. Taeyong knew how long it had been since the last kiss, and imagined when the next one would come, and what it would be like. 

January brought real snow, and it banked up in the gutters and against the sides of houses, buried cars, barely had time to go black and slushy before it was covered by a fresh layer. The world was pure white and cold but Taeyong felt like he’d been brimming with a low, steady warmth for weeks, for an eternity. It flared hotter every time he saw Jaehyun. Which was inconvenient, since now that they weren’t actively avoiding each other, they saw each other all the time at school. It was getting increasingly difficult whenever they passed in the hall not to grab Jaehyun’s hand, or touch his neck, or peck his cheek, or maybe push him against the lockers and kiss him until their breath ran out. And when they did kiss, incredible as it was, as much as he told himself it should be enough, it was getting increasingly difficult to stop. Stop his hands from wandering under Jaehyun’s clothes, stop his mouth from trailing down Jaehyun’s neck, stop his tongue from tasting every inch of Jaehyun’s skin. 

As it was, he hadn’t even stuck his hand up Jaehyun’s shirt. He was being very good. No matter how many kisses they’d shared, very little time had actually passed. Taeyong kept reminding himself of this, and it helped him break their kisses, gently, before he went past what he sensed would be the point of no return. He reminded himself that they’d spent months not speaking and only weeks kissing. He reminded himself that Jaehyun was still hurting, still mourning, still going through things Taeyong couldn’t understand and wasn’t sure how to help with (he was at least reasonably sure that “helping” didn’t include feeling Jaehyun up). He reminded himself that they had had a few weeks of closeness in the summer, that it had felt like they were friends, that Jaehyun’s smiles had all felt real and beautiful; and he reminded himself that whatever that closeness had been had collapsed, dissolved, faded to nothing in the span of a couple days. He didn’t want to do anything now that he couldn’t take back, couldn’t let go of. Just in case. 

And Jaehyun, for his part, seemed perfectly content with how things were. His smiles were radiant and infectious. When he saw Taeyong he smiled, when they talked he smiled. Sometimes in the middle of a kiss he smiled, his lips breaking their seal with Taeyong’s as their shape changed to accommodate his joy. And when Taeyong felt the heat under his skin getting dangerous and unbearable and pulled away, Jaehyun smiled then too, like he didn’t mind the loss of Taeyong’s lips because the moments he got to taste them were already unimaginably enough. And they should be enough. Taeyong loved kissing Jaehyun, and he loved talking to Jaehyun, and just seeing him, even from afar. He felt guilty for wanting more. It had been so recent that he had had nothing, not even the briefest of Jaehyun’s dark-eyed glances. He should appreciate this for as long as he could. Kissing Jaehyun and being kissed breathlessly back was more than enough. 

With all the snow, it was only a matter of time before enough came down at once for school to be canceled, and late in January it finally was. The school had been buzzing with the news of an impending blizzard all week, hoping it would materialize. On Wednesday afternoon, just as the news had been predicting, the snow started. By sunset, it had picked up into a storm, though thankfully the roads were still clear enough for everyone to get home. When Taeyong went to bed that night, the view from his bedroom window was completely blanked out, a nearly opaque swirl of white that skittered over the glass in gusts that made the house creak. Thursday morning his window was frosted over and half-covered in snow that had piled on the sill. The snow was coming down gently now, but the world had already all but disappeared: the street was a stretch of unbroken white, rising and falling over cars, mailboxes, fences. 

His phone buzzed and he glanced at it, saw Doyoung’s name blink onto the screen above just one word: River? 

Taeyong typed back, If I can dig my way out of my house.  

Doyoung’s reply came quickly: Jump out the window if you have to. Everyone’s gonna be there.

Taeyong rolled his eyes and got out of bed. Ten minutes later he was wearing about five layers of clothes and trying to squeeze his way through the biggest kitchen window with his dad fretting and encouraging him in equal measure. Taeyong managed to get through and dropped down into a deep drift of snow–luckily, it was wet enough to pack under him instead of letting him sink all the way through the powder. He grabbed the shovel his father tossed out after him, and then spent the better part of an hour struggling to clear the snow away from the front door, with his dad’s help as soon as the door could open enough to let him out. 

“Better to do this now,” his dad kept saying, out of breath, “before it all freezes over.” 

It was past noon by the time Taeyong finally started trudging down the street towards the river. Doyoung had texted that he was already there. Taeyong had texted Jaehyun about it too, telling him about the place downstream where the riverbank rose steep and treeless and created a perfect hill for sledding. It had been a snow day tradition for generations. He’d assumed Jaehyun had headed over there earlier and met up with Doyoung–they’d texted about it hours before–so he was surprised to find Jaehyun standing in the snow where his uncle’s street met the main road. 

“Jaehyun?”

Jaehyun looked up quickly, and grinned. “Finally! I thought my feet were going to freeze off.” 

“How long have you been out here?” Taeyong took in Jaehyun’s pink nose and cheeks above his scarf. “You should’ve told me you were waiting. Think how guilty I’d feel if you got frostbite.” 

Jaehyun just grinned wider and waded through the snow to the slightly more passable main street, where he fell in besides Taeyong. “Shouldn’t you have a sled?” 

“Shouldn’t you?” Taeyong asked. 

“Does my uncle seem like the kind of person who would have a sled? What’s your excuse?” 

Taeyong laughed. “My sister already took them since she weaseled her way out of shoveling, somehow. But Doyoung and his cousins will probably have a bunch.” 

They turned before they reached the bridge and headed down to the frozen, snow covered surface of the river, walking downstream in the opposite direction of the tree. New territory for Jaehyun, Taeyong thought. Though for all he knew Jaehyun had been here without him during the months they weren’t talking; in warmer weather kids snuck off to the sledding hill to drink and smoke and generally avoid supervision. Taeyong shook his head and tried not to think, again, of all the things he might have missed.

The snow on the river was easier to walk through, shallower since the wind hadn’t let it settle, had blown it instead into big piles against the banks. There were more kids around, everyone heading the same direction, difficult to recognize under their hats and scarves, until one boy let out a shout and jumped on Jaehyun’s back. Jaehyun slipped and nearly toppled over onto the ice, but Taeyong grabbed him, an awkward arm thrown across Jaehyun’s chest to keep him from tipping forward. For the briefest moment before Jaehyun steadied himself Taeyong felt his cold nose brush against his cheek.

“Ugh, get off,” Jaehyun said, and then, “Not you,” when Taeyong hurriedly stepped back. Jaehyun shrugged off the boy who was still laughing and clinging to his back.

“Hey Taeyong,” said Yuta, letting go and falling into step beside them. “Long time no see.” 

“Uh, yeah?” 

“You know, just because our project is over doesn’t mean we can’t hang out,” Yuta continued, slinging his arms around both of their shoulders. Jaehyun groaned but didn’t try to shrug him off again. “I thought we were friends now.” Yuta looked at him mournfully. 

Taeyong smiled, flattered in spite of himself, but was prevented from answering by shouting up ahead. They’d reached the part of the bank where everyone had gathered. It was early afternoon, but the sun had already passed its peak and was starting to lengthen all the shadows. The riverbank was crowded, kids standing around in groups at the top and bottom of the hill and sledding down the slope in between. Probably all the young people in town were there. 

“Taeyong! Jaehyun!” One figure, unmistakably Doyoung even from a distance, detached itself from the crowd at the top of the hill and came half-running half-sliding down to meet them, a bright red plastic sled bouncing along the snow behind him. “Oh,” he said when he neared them, and he came up short, out of breath. “Hi, Yuta.” 

“Hey,” Yuta grinned back. 

“Here,” Doyoung gasped, and shoved the sled at Taeyong. “You came at the perfect time, the snow is all packed down and super fast.” His eyes went through a complicated sequence of widening and narrowing as he spoke. Taeyong nearly asked if something was wrong before he figured it out. 

“Oh, right. Uh, Jaehyun, let’s go?” 

Jaehyun opened his mouth to say something, but Taeyong did his best to transmit Doyoung’s message through his own eyes, and Jaehyun closed his mouth and followed him, still looking confused. 

“What was that?” Jaehyun asked in a low voice when they were halfway up the hill. They turned around to look behind them. Doyoung and Yuta were still standing down below. Taeyong saw Yuta laugh, and Doyoung, whose back was to them, swatted at his arm. Dear god. 

“Doyoung, uh, needed to talk to Yuta about something,” Taeyong said. He barely convinced himself. 

“You know, I think Yuta thinks he’s cute,” Jaehyun said thoughtfully. 

“Wait, seriously?” Taeyong turned and looked at him. 

Jaehyun laughed and shrugged. “Seems like that to me. He talks about him a lot. Which kind of—” He stopped and cleared his throat, his smile going stiff.

“What?” 

“Well, it kind of sucked, when you and me weren’t talking, to hear a lot about your best friend, what you guys were doing and stuff.” 

“Oh,” said Taeyong. They were nearly at the top of the hill now, and his legs were burning with the effort of climbing through the snow drifts. He knew he should probably not feel pleased about what Jaehyun had said . 

“But now it’s fine,” Jaehyun said quickly, as though he regretted bringing down the mood. “Imagine if they start dating too. I feel like they might be insufferable.” 

“‘Too?’”

“What?” 

“You said, if they start dating too. ” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun blinked at him. “I mean, aren’t we dating? Sort of?” 

Taeyong raised his eyebrows. “Can we be dating if no one knows?” 

“You didn’t tell Doyoung?” 

“No,” said Taeyong. “Although, I think he sort of suspects something’s going on. Or at least that I am, um, interested in you.” 

Jaehyun smirked. “Oh, ‘interested,’ huh? He probably does, you’re pretty obvious.”

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. “No I’m not. You’re the one who turns bright red every time you see me.” 

Jaehyun’s cheeks grew pinker and he stopped smirking, though he didn’t look entirely displeased. “Do you want to tell people?” 

Taeyong hesitated. They cleared the crest of the hill, and bright excited chatter surrounded them, shrieks as kids threw snow at each other or plunged down the hill. “I’m not sure yet,” he said finally, honestly, feeling like maybe he should have lied and just said yes instead. He didn’t want Jaehyun to think he was ashamed of him, which wasn’t the case at all. He just wasn’t sure if what they had counted as enough to tell people yet. But Jaehyun just nodded and smiled, like he did when Taeyong broke their kisses, like he was happy with whatever Taeyong would give. Taeyong was relieved and yet, at the same time, he had started to wish that Jaehyun might be a little less patient, a little more greedy.

But it was impossible for any unpleasant feelings to last long here, with the sun reflecting blindingly off the pale snow and the specific thrill of an unexpected day off from school infusing every word and action with delight. 

“Let’s go,” Taeyong said, smiling, pleased to find that his smile didn’t feel at all strained. 

Jaehyun’s smile widened too, became more playful and less gentle. The sunlight was so bright off his cold-flushed skin Taeyong could barely look at him. He turned and occupied himself with the sled instead, sitting on it and digging his heels into the snow to keep himself from sliding away. He was about to ask Jaehyun for a push when Jaehyun said, “Scooch up.” 

Taeyong craned his neck around. “We can’t both—”

“Sure we can,” Jaehyun said, swatting at Taeyong’s back. “You don’t take up much space.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taeyong felt oddly offended. He’d grown two inches since the end of the last school year and if he grew two more he’d be nearly Jaehyun’s height. “Hey!” 

Jaehyun had yanked the sled sharply back, so Taeyong, caught off guard, slid forward on the shiny plastic and nearly toppled out. Jaehyun squeezed in behind him, and Taeyong barely had time to pull his feet up onto the front edge of the sled before they started sliding forward. Doyoung had been right, the snow was hard-packed and going icy under so many sleds, and they gathered speed quickly. Taeyong let out a shout, in spite of himself, and heard Jaehyun laughing in his ear as he wrapped his arms tightly around his waist. They flew down the slope, the air stinging their cheeks, Taeyong laughing too even though the cold made his teeth ache as soon as he opened his mouth. At the bottom they bumped over the uneven snow at the river’s edge but managed to stay balanced, and then they were shooting out over the ice, their momentum carrying them far out onto the river until they finally glided to a stop. 

Taeyong slumped back against Jaehyun, breathless, as though he’d run down the hill instead of just sliding, still laughing. He could hear Yuta’s voice in the distance, yelling something triumphant at them. Taeyong turned, meaning to look back and see how far they’d managed to come, but Jaehyun’s face was there, startlingly close, grinning, looking at him. Taeyong pulled away reflexively, and then wished he hadn’t, but Jaehyun didn’t seem to notice anything, was already untangling himself from Taeyong and the sled, leading the way back to the hill, looking back to grin behind him. Bright, stunningly beautiful. It took Taeyong a moment to make his legs move to follow. 

Their next few runs left them toppled over in the snow at the bottom of the hill, which they quickly realized was the much more common way to end up–it had been more impressive than they’d realized that they’d made it all the way out onto the ice their first time. But tumbling into the snow didn’t make the afternoon any less enjoyable. They raced; they tried (and failed) to pile onto a single sled with Doyoung and Yuta; they found Doyoung’s little cousins and Taeyong tried not to laugh at Jaehyun’s pout when the cousins climbed into Taeyong’s lap on the sled and Jaehyun was left at the top of the hill without them. 

The sun dipped below the trees. The top of the hill caught the last rays of it, while the river below was left in pale blues, and kids started heading home in twos and threes. Doyoung shepherded off his cousins, and Yuta accompanied them–Doyoung gave Taeyong another indecipherable message with his eyes. 

“One more?” Jaehyun asked, gesturing uphill with the sled, which Doyoung had left behind for them. 

“I don’t know,” Taeyong said. “I’m freezing.”

“Come on.” Jaehyun pulled his arm. “Just once more.”

“This hill,” Taeyong groaned, though he didn’t put up much of a fight and let Jaehyun pull him along. 

They reached the top and Taeyong paused, catching his breath, staring at the frozen river winding below them into the trees. They were alone on the hill, for the moment, a few remaining kids horsing around in the snow down below. 

“Ready?” Jaehyun was already in the sled, looking up at him. 

“Can’t I go in back for once?” Taeyong said. “The wind is so cold in the front.” 

“No,” said Jaehyun, grinning.

“Are you serious?” 

“I like having you in my lap,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong’s eyes widened, though Jaehyun was looking up at him innocently. “You’re very squeezable.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Taeyong muttered, blushing. But he pulled his scarf up over his cheeks and sat down again between Jaehyun’s bent legs. Jaehyun wrapped his arms around Taeyong’s middle and, as though proving a point, squeezed until Taeyong grunted and slapped at him, and then he laughed in Taeyong’s ear and pushed off and they flew down the hill again. 

The hill was clear below them now. All Taeyong could hear was the wind rushing past and Jaehyun’s breath, he thought, very warm against the shell of his ear. They reached the edge of the riverbank and wobbled badly, and Jaehyun squeezed tighter, with his legs as well as his arms, and laughed again when they stayed upright, the sound overly loud so close to Taeyong’s face. He felt very solid against Taeyong’s back. They shot out onto the ice. Taeyong could see the track through the snow that they’d made before, but they slowed faster this time. 

“So close!” Jaehyun was saying, and he started pushing, jolting the sled forward awkwardly, nearly throwing Taeyong out, who started laughing, tired and cold and giddy. The sled caught something, an uneven drift of snow or a ridge in the ice or a rock, and Taeyong did lose his balance and topple over, though he found he didn’t mind at all. He lay in the snow, letting his laughter fade into breath, ignoring the cold that seeped through his clothes. He stared at the pretty fading sky, and then, when Jaehyun leaned over him, he stared at Jaehyun’s pretty shining face, until his face got too close to focus on, and then Taeyong closed his eyes and let himself be kissed. 

The kiss was tired and happy, a little clumsy, Jaehyun on all fours above him in the snow. Taeyong wanted to go on kissing him–he always wanted to go on kissing him–but the cold became impossible to ignore and he pushed Jaehyun away. “Too cold,” he said, apologetically, when his teeth started to chatter. 

Jaehyun looked at him for a moment, then dropped his head, pressed his face hard against Taeyong’s cheek, not quite kissing him, though Taeyong could feel his lips against his skin. 

“You’re being weird,” Taeyong said.

“Want to come over?” Jaehyun mumbled. 

“Okay,” Taeyong said. They’d gone to Jaehyun’s house a handful of times already and he wasn’t used to Jaehyun acting shy about it. “But get up, seriously, my ass is gonna fall off.” 

Jaehyun scrambled up, and pulled Taeyong up after him. “We can’t have that,” he said, trying to turn Taeyong around to brush the snow off him, while Taeyong danced out of reach and swatted at him. “I’m trying to warm your ass up!” Jaehyun shouted, laughing, grabbing for Taeyong’s waist. Taeyong dodged him and took off running towards the bridge, skidding and slipping on the ice, laughing too, leaving Jaehyun to pick up the sled and carry it along behind him. 

~~~~~

The sight of Taeyong standing in the middle of his bedroom, in a pair of Jaehyun’s own sweatpants and a sweatshirt that was too big and hung past his fingertips, was almost too much for Jaehyun to take. He had to stop in the doorway and take a breath before he could enter. Luckily Taeyong was facing away from him and didn’t notice the slip in Jaehyun’s composure. They’d been alone tons of times, Jaehyun reminded himself. There was no reason to feel nervous just because now they were in his bedroom, instead of down in the living room or the kitchen like usual. Maybe it was just that last time they’d been up here had been in the summer, and that conversation had been a miserable one. But that was all in the past now, and Jaehyun managed to put it out of his mind. He could still feel the thrill of the afternoon racing under his skin, something pure and bright and bubbling, the simple excitement of playing in the snow and the newer excitement of tucking his cold face into the warm neck of someone he liked so much. He closed his bedroom door. 

Taeyong turned around at the sound, a small smile on his face. He held out his hands to show the too-long sleeves. “Thanks.” 

“Told you you’re small,” Jaehyun said, smirking. 

“You did not say that,” said Taeyong, “or I would’ve been much more offended.” 

Taeyong’s cheeks were still pink from the cold and his hair was messier than ever, sticking up in all directions after wearing a hat all afternoon. The thrill under Jaehyun’s skin flared up, warm and pleasant.

“Fine,” Jaehyun said, walking closer, noting the way Taeyong’s eyes followed him. “How about ‘cute,’ then. You’re very cute.” 

Taeyong narrowed his eyes and took a step back, though he seemed to realize this brought him closer to Jaehyun’s bed and stopped again. 

“Very, very cute,” Jaehyun said. There was an airy, expanded feeling in his chest, that he thought might be happiness, uncomplicated, unburdened, for the moment, by any memories. He had never had an afternoon quite like this one. He had never felt quite like this. It was liberating not to be able to compare it to anything else, to anyone else. He closed the distance between them and Taeyong looked at him, head titled, waiting to see what he would do. “So fucking cute,” Jaehyun said, smiling. He reached out and ruffled Taeyong’s hair, unable to resist, and Taeyong squawked and ducked and Jaehyun tackled him, unthinking, giving in to the thrumming impulse to be closer, to wrap Taeyong in his arms and not let go. They toppled onto the mattress. He kissed Taeyong’s cheek, and his eyes and forehead, silly noisy kisses, halfway laughing, and Taeyong cursed at him and swatted halfheartedly at his chest and then Jaehyun kissed his mouth and he went very still. 

Taeyong opened to the kiss immediately, and Jaehyun realized all at once that Taeyong was underneath him, that they were in his bed. His blood rushed hot in his ears; he suddenly didn’t know what to do with his hands. He could smell his own detergent on their clothes and he could smell, faintly, Taeyong’s own scent underneath, coming off his warm neck. So Jaehyun kissed him there, felt Taeyong flinch and heard his breathing change. Jaehyun waited for him to pull away. Taeyong always seemed to, just at the moment when Jaehyun’s thoughts started to stray from kissing towards other, vaguer things. Jaehyun found it reassuring, mostly, a line he could rely on, the relief that he didn’t have to choose, didn’t have to take any risks. 

But Taeyong didn’t pull away, just slid his fingers into Jaehyun’s hair and tipped his head back to expose more of his long perfect neck. Jaehyun kissed up his jaw and found his mouth again, his eyes tightly closed. He was overwhelmed as it was and he knew that even the slightest glimpse of Taeyong like this would be more than he could handle. But with his eyes closed it was hard to keep track of what was going on in any logical way. It was getting harder and harder to think, harder to catalog everything that was happening. Taeyong’s tongue was in his mouth, his breath was loud, his arms were around Jaehyun’s shoulders–no, they were around his back–no, his hands were holding Jaehyun’s face. Jaehyun was certain he’d been holding himself up carefully above Taeyong’s body but now it seemed they were pressed together and he couldn’t remember when his arms had given out. One of Taeyong’s legs was between his and… oh. This was dangerous. The heat under his skin had changed without him noticing, pooled low in his stomach, building, mingled with something like panic, because what would Taeyong think? But Taeyong’s arm was tight and certain around Jaehyun’s waist, his lips urgent. 

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun managed, “Wait.” He tried to lift his head but Taeyong didn’t let him go and they rolled onto their sides, unbalanced. 

Taeyong’s leg between his was insistent and Jaehyun gasped, eyes opening in spite of himself in shock. Taeyong’s forehead was pressed to his, his face a blur too close to Jaehyun’s eyes. His palm was flat against Jaehyun’s spine, against his skin, burning as he shifted urgently against him. Jaehyun couldn’t pull away, found he didn’t want to, found he wanted to stay like this forever, all heat and dizzying anticipation. He tucked Taeyong’s face into his shoulder so he could press his nose into his neck again and breathe him in, the warm and undefinable smell of his skin, which he kissed. 

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong whispered, very quietly, and shuddered. Jaehyun could feel his shoulder blades tighten under his hands and his head swam. 

Taeyong stilled quickly, carefully. If it hadn’t been for his heart hammering through his back, Jaehyun might not have known anything had happened at all. Taeyong kept his face pressed tightly into Jaehyun’s chest for a long time. 

“Taeyong?” Jaehyun asked. His bedroom had grown dark around them. 

“Mmph,” grunted Taeyong. 

“Did you fall asleep?” 

“No,” said Taeyong.

Jaehyun tried to pull away and get a look at Taeyong’s face but Taeyong ducked his head lower and didn’t let him. “Did you…?” 

“No,” said Taeyong quickly. “Maybe. Yes. Did you?” 

“No,” said Jaehyun, suddenly breathless. “But it’s fine,” he added, when Taeyong let out a muffled groan. “It’s really fine. That was….” He trailed off, his cheeks hot. 

“I’m sorry,” said Taeyong. 

“For what?” Jaehyun tried and failed to pull away again. “You’re going to have to let go sooner or later,” he said, though he didn’t actually mind this at all. “Are you really that embarrassed?” 

“Of course I’m embarrassed!” Taeyong burst out, the impact somewhat reduced by the fact that the words could barely be heard against Jaehyun’s chest. “I just—And you didn’t even—” He gave up with an indecipherable noise. 

Jaehyun patted him on the back, trying not to laugh. “It’s not a bad thing,” he said. “It was hot. And if you start acting like this, we’re not going to get anywhere, because I don’t exactly know what I’m doing. But I mean, eventually we’re going to do stuff other than just kissing. Right?” 

Taeyong was quiet. “I guess I imagined it would be different than this. Not so sudden. Not so rushed.” 

“You imagined?” Jaehyun’s throat was suddenly tight. “With… me?”

“Who else?” Taeyong said. Jaehyun could feel his tension in every tight muscle of his body. 

“Well, I liked this,” Jaehyun said, his mouth against Taeyong’s hair, his fingers light on the back of his neck. He had never tried so hard, so consciously, to be gentle before. 

Taeyong mumbled something unintelligible into Jaehyun’s chest. 

“What?” Jaehyun asked. 

“I said that doesn’t count for much, since you’d like anything I do,” Taeyong said irritably, but he forgot himself and pulled away, looking Jaehyun in the eye. 

Jaehyun smiled. “That’s true, I would.” He tried to kiss him, but Taeyong, who was blushing furiously, squirmed away and sat up. “Do you need, uh, another change of clothes?” Jaehyun asked tentatively, sitting up too. 

“No,” Taeyong covered his face with his hands. “Please stop.” 

“Stop what?” Jaehyun asked innocently. 

Taeyong shot him a look and hurried out of the room to the bathroom. 

Jaehyun lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. The heat had drained out of him, and he thought he should have felt more frustrated by this, but his skin just buzzed with a pleasant warmth and he was surprisingly content. Taeyong came back in a few minutes later looking more composed and climbed up to sit next to Jaehyun, cross-legged in the too-big sweats. Jaehyun was a little cautious, as though he were approaching a small skittish animal, but Taeyong seemed to have calmed down in the bathroom and was apparently not too mortified to allow Jaehyun to wriggle closer and lay his head in his lap. They talked together as the house gradually filled with the smell of Changmin’s cooking, and Taeyong trailed his fingers absently through Jaehyun’s hair, and Jaehyun thought this might have been one of the most perfect afternoons of his life. What a relief, that perfect afternoons were something he could still find, after everything. 

~~

“Your birthday’s coming up, isn’t it?” 

Jaehyun looked up as Doyoung dropped his tray of food on the cafeteria table across from him and sat down. “Yeah, next Friday,” he said. His eyes were already darting past Doyoung, searching—

“He got stuck talking to our lit teacher about one of his essays,” Doyoung said, smirking knowingly.

Jaehyun blushed and decided to at least maintain whatever dignity he had left by not denying that he was looking for Taeyong. Usually Taeyong and Doyoung came to lunch together, so it wasn’t like he’d really given anything away by assuming he’d be around.

“We’re having a party at my house,” Yuta said, returning to the table with two cans of soda from the vending machine. He straddled the seat next to Doyoung, and Jaehyun watched smugly as Doyoung’s own cheeks went slightly pink. Until Yuta handed Doyoung the soda that had been meant for him. Traitor. 

“Don’t use my birthday as an excuse,” said Jaehyun grumpily. “You’d be having a party anyway.” 

“Of course,” said Yuta. “I can’t waste a night with my parents out of town. And it’s Valentine’s Day. I don’t need you as an excuse.” He flashed a smile at Jaehyun, then turned to Doyoung and winked. 

Jaehyun stood up with his tray. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Taeyong has a sweet tooth, you know,” said Doyoung, as Jaehyun circled around the table. 

“What?” Jaehyun stopped in spite of himself. 

“Just thought that might be something you’d be interested in knowing,” Doyoung said, and turned back to Yuta. 

Jaehyun stood there for another moment, fighting the urge to defend himself. It wasn’t that he minded being, apparently, an open book when it came to his feelings about Taeyong. He just wished Doyoung and Yuta would stop giving him such dramatic knowing looks. He sighed and walked towards the cafeteria doors, stopping to buy a bag of Starbursts from the vending machine on the way out. 

The hallway was mostly deserted, and the boisterous noise of the cafeteria faded quickly behind him. Doyoung’s glances and comments had been increasingly common lately, now that Jaehyun thought about it. He’d wondered more than once if Taeyong had decided to tell Doyoung about them after all. But he thought Taeyong would have said something if he had, wouldn’t have just left Jaehyun in the dark. 

Then again, maybe he would. Jaehyun slowed as he turned down the hallway where he knew Taeyong had his lit class. Jaehyun had thought, after that afternoon on the snow day, that things between them might change, might start moving more quickly. He knew Taeyong had felt awkward about what had happened, but still, it had happened, and he had been expecting–hoping–that things like that might continue to happen more often, now that they’d passed that initial hurdle. But they hadn’t. Taeyong hadn’t withdrawn, exactly. He was still obviously happy to see Jaehyun, he still texted him constantly and talked to him for hours on the phone late at night. He still kissed him like he wanted to drink him in. There wasn’t anything wrong . But Jaehyun could recognize, now that he’d seen Taeyong lose control, if only for a moment, how hard Taeyong was trying to be careful in all their other moments together. Jaehyun wasn’t sure what it meant, and he wasn’t sure what to do about it. 

In the end, as much as he worried, as much as he wished Taeyong would take more from him, or let go of more of himself, he stayed quiet. He kissed Taeyong deeply and let himself be kissed, and when Taeyong tensed or pulled away he let him do that too. More than anything, he didn’t want Taeyong to think he wasn’t happy with the way things were, because he was. Unimaginably, devastatingly happy. So happy it could make him sick to his stomach, because he wasn’t sure it was allowed. 

A door opened further down the hall, and Taeyong stepped out, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. His face broke into a smile when he saw Jaehyun. “What are you doing here?” he asked. 

“Doyoung told me you got held up after class,” Jaehyun said. “I got you these.” He held out the Starbursts, and Taeyong’s face lit up. Jaehyun frowned and hid the Starbursts behind his back. “You didn’t look that happy to see me.” 

Taeyong gave him a look and tried to reach around him. “You’re not a Starburst, of course I didn’t.” Jaehyun got distracted by the warmth of Taeyong’s chest against his and didn’t put up much of a fight as Taeyong snatched the bag away and opened it. He unwrapped a pink Starburst and popped it into his mouth, sighing blissfully. 

“I never thought I’d be jealous of a piece of candy,” Jaehyun grumbled, and Taeyong smiled brightly up at him. He looked quickly up and down the hallway before going up on his toes and kissing Jaehyun on the mouth. His lips were sweet. 

“Better?” said Taeyong quietly as he pulled away. 

Jaehyun blinked at him. Taeyong’s big dark eyes had gone soft and Jaehyun was struck, as he often was, by the impossible fact that he was the one Taeyong was looking at like that. “Yeah,” he whispered, and ached. Was this really allowed?

Taeyong started off down the hallway, touching Jaehyun’s arm as he did so he fell in alongside him. “Are you free after school today?” Taeyong asked. A few students turned into the hallway and passed them, chattering loudly. 

“I have therapy,” Jaehyun reminded him. 

“Oh, right,” said Taeyong. Jaehyun couldn’t help but be pleased that he definitely seemed disappointed.

“Yuta’s having a party next week,” Jaehyun said casually. 

“For your birthday, right?” 

“It’s not really for my birthday. It just happens to be on my birthday. Coincidentally.” 

Taeyong laughed. “That’s too bad,” he said. “I don’t really like parties. But if it’s for your birthday, maybe I’d make an exception.” 

“It’s for my birthday,” Jaehyun said quickly, spinning around to stand in front of Taeyong. Taeyong tilted his head and looked up at him, obviously amused. “You’ve gotten very teasy,” Jaehyun said. “I don’t know if I like it. I think it was better when you kept getting flustered and running away.”

“I guess you’ve taught me well,” Taeyong said. He leaned close, suddenly, his nose brushing Jaehyun’s ear. “And you do like it.” 

Jaehyun was saved from answering–or seizing Taeyong and shoving his tongue down his throat–by the bell, which rang loudly and triggered a flood of noisy students pouring out of the cafeteria. Taeyong gave him a slightly apologetic smile, blushing, and headed away down the hall to his next class. It took Jaehyun so long to collect himself he was nearly late to class himself. 

~~

That afternoon Jaehyun went home with the sense of slightly uneasy anticipation that he sometimes felt before he logged on to talk with Sooyoung. It wasn’t that he didn’t like their conversations. But now he was able to go for hours, sometimes even whole days, without thinking about Haru, without feeling that awfulness that surpassed even the urge to cry and just left him exhausted, wishing for everything to stop. Speaking with Sooyoung meant focusing on those things again, on things that took a lot out of him, even when he could tell how much it helped. 

He’d told Sooyoung everything about Taeyong only the week before. Or rather, he’d told her about all the good things that had happened with Taeyong only the week before. She already knew about what had happened over the summer, and how they’d stopped talking for months. Those had been problems, mistakes, moments that hurt, and that was what Sooyoung was for: the horrible, life-altering things, the things that were tied up with losing Haru. Kissing Taeyong might be life-altering too, to Jaehyun, but he didn’t think his parents were paying Sooyoung to listen to him giggle about a boy he liked. Things with Taeyong were good now, and therapy wasn’t for talking about the things that were good. It was for talking about all his problems, so he could be fixed. 

After the snow day, though, he hadn’t been able to hold it all in anymore. As soon as he’d logged on and his face had shown up on the screen, Sooyoung had remarked that he looked happy, and before he knew it he was spilling everything to her. It had felt good to tell someone, to be able to admit how exciting it all was, even if he left out certain details that were just too embarrassing to say to a grown up. But something had been nagging at him ever since, and he was a little uneasy about speaking with her again, since he knew he’d need to talk to her about it. 

Sooyoung’s face came up on his laptop screen, and she smiled warmly, like always. “How are you feeling?” 

“Good,” Jaehyun said. “Yeah, good.” He hesitated. Sooyoung waited. She always seemed to know when to wait, and when Jaehyun needed her to say something instead. “I’ve kind of been thinking about what we talked about last time,” he said eventually. Sooyoung nodded and waited some more. “I feel like I shouldn’t have said it. Or something.” 

“That you shouldn’t have told me about Taeyong?” Sooyoung asked. 

“That I shouldn’t have been so excited about it.” 

“Why not?” 

“I mean, it’s kind of fucked up, isn’t it?” Sooyoung was the only adult he ever cursed in front of who never seemed to mind. “It hasn’t even been a year since he–since Haru died. I should still be sad about it. I am still sad about it. I still miss him so much. So how can I be happy too? It was his birthday just the other day, I should be falling apart, and instead I’m looking forward to my own birthday. What if it means I’m forgetting him? Or what if I never cared about him as much as I thought? What if I’m just some kind of coldhearted person, to be able to get over something like that?” 

“You’re not coldhearted,” Sooyoung said straightforwardly. “And feeling many emotions at the same time is totally normal.”

“But Haru died. It’s not like I was sad about failing a test, and then also happy because Taeyong kissed me. It was Haru . And he’s gone. And now I’m happy without him.” 

“I’m not sure that’s the way to think about it. You’re not happy without him. You’re happy with Taeyong, who, as we’ve talked about, is a completely separate person. And that’s okay. That’s good, Jaehyun.” 

“But who feels happy again so quickly?” Jaehyun said. He picked up a pen and started clicking it, a habit he often slipped into during their appointments. 

“Is there an amount of time you think would be long enough to wait?” Sooyoung asked. 

“No, it’s not like that,” said Jaehyun. “It just feels… so mixed up. And I keep thinking, if he–if Haru were still here, I’d tell him all about this, about Taeyong, you know? And I think about how great that would be, and how much it sucks that he’s not here. But then the really fucked up part is that I remember that if Haru were still here, I’d never have moved to this town at all. I’d still be back home, half in love with him and never able to tell him, and I’d never have met Taeyong, I’d never even have known he exists. And then that makes me sad.” His eyes were burning and he dug the heels of his hands into his eye sockets. 

“That would be sad,” said Sooyoung gently. “You care about Taeyong. It’s okay to care about him, and it’s okay to be glad you’ve met him.” 

“But I only met him because Haru is fucking dead!” Jaehyun banged his hand against the table and then he covered his face again to hide his tears. Sooyoung let him cry, noisily and shaking, which no longer made him feel so embarrassed, though he preferred not to actually see Sooyoung watching him while he did. He finally calmed a little, and lifted his head. “Please don’t tell me this is what Haru would have wanted for me, or something. That he would want me to move on and be happy. Please don’t say that.” 

“I won’t,” said Sooyoung gently. “But I will say this. You get to keep having a life, Jaehyun. Your own life. Your life isn’t only going to be sad, even though you lost someone very special to you. And your life isn’t only going to be happy, even though you’ve met someone new, who’s also special. That’s not the way lives are, for anyone. You will always have lost Haru, and that will always be sad. But you also will always have known Haru, and grown up with him, and that brought you a lot of happiness for a long time, didn’t it?” Jaehyun sniffed, and nodded. “And now you will always have met Taeyong. And who knows what will happen with him in the future. It sounds like there have already been some ups and downs with him, too. But you get to keep living, is my point. All the things that a life can contain, good and bad, are allowed to you. Really, they’ll happen whether you think they’re allowed or not. It can make a big difference to try to believe that you deserve the happy things too. Because you do deserve them, Jaehyun, you definitely do.”

Jaehyun was crying again, silently now. It had been a while since he’d cried this much with Sooyoung. “It’s so… tiring,” he said, after a moment. 

Sooyoung gave him a very sympathetic look, a look that from anyone else would have felt like pity, but never did from her. “Yes, it can be,” she said softly. “But if you weren’t ever tired that would probably mean you weren’t ever trying, or doing, or living at all.” She let him collect himself a bit, watching as he dragged his already damp sweatshirt sleeves over his face again. “You know, the worst thing about virtual therapy might be that I can’t hand you a box of tissues right now,” she said, with a slightly amused wince, and Jaehyun laughed, rather wetly.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong’s phone buzzed, and he determinedly ignored it. It had been ringing on and off for the past twenty minutes, and he had been ignoring it because he knew it was Doyoung, wondering why he wasn’t ready yet to go to Yuta’s party. The reason Taeyong wasn’t ready was because he kept changing his shirt, and the reason he kept changing his shirt was because it gave him an excuse to stare at himself in the mirror and try to decide whether he should style his hair, or if that would make it too obvious that he was trying . 

Ten more minutes passed, Taeyong’s phone suspiciously silent, and then sure enough he heard the front door open, and his father’s cheerful voice, and then loud footsteps on the stairs. Doyoung burst into his room. 

“What are you doing? ” he started, and then, “Oh. Wow.” 

Taeyong turned and looked at Doyoung miserably. “Is it that bad?” He had styled his hair after all, with some of his sister’s hair products, a number of liquids of varying textures that all seemed to do the exact same thing–namely, leave his hair stiff and his fingers sticky. “Let me just go wash this out,” he sighed. 

“Are you kidding me?” Doyoung said, outraged. 

“I know! I just thought—” Taeyong reached up to touch his hair and Doyoung pulled his hand away. 

“Taeyong, I say this with the utmost respect, but you have never looked this hot in your life, and if you undo whatever the hell you did to your hair to achieve this, I will never forgive you.” 

“...What?” Taeyong turned and faced the mirror again, suspiciously. 

“Seriously,” Doyoung said. “Though now that I think about it, maybe you should wash your hair, because if you show up to Jaehyun’s birthday party looking like this he might have a heart attack, and that would be a shame.”

“Does it actually look okay?” Taeyong asked. 

“Have you listened to a word I’ve said?” Doyoung huffed. “You look great. I mean it. He’s going to think so too.” 

Taeyong blushed. “This isn’t because of him,” he mumbled, unconvincingly. 

“Why shouldn’t it be?” Doyoung said. “It’s his birthday. And Valentine’s Day. The perfect day to ask him out. I’m going to ask Yuta out, too.” 

Taeyong became very preoccupied with inspecting his hair again in the mirror. “Do you think the shirt is okay?” 

Doyoung narrowed his eyes. “The shirt is fine, although no one is going to notice your shirt because they’ll be staring at your amazing head. Did you already ask Jaehyun out?” 

“Uh, no,” said Taeyong, which wasn’t exactly a lie. 

“Something happened with him though, didn’t it?”

Taeyong hesitated, then nodded, waiting for Doyoung to berate him again for still keeping secrets, but instead he gasped, and spun Taeyong around by the shoulders to face him. “Tell me everything,” he said. 

Taeyong didn’t quite tell him everything, but as they walked across town together towards Yuta’s house he caught Doyoung mostly up to speed. He was more relieved than he’d been expecting that Doyoung was so excited about it. Doyoung still didn’t know all the details about what had happened over the summer–Taeyong wouldn’t be the one to say anything about the death of Jaehyun’s friend. But Taeyong found he enjoyed seeing it all from Doyoung’s point of view, in such an uncomplicated light, as though it was all just a normal bit of high school drama, that was now heading for its happy ending.

The walk to Yuta’s house was long, about as long as any walk could be while staying in the bounds of River’s Bend, since Yuta lived at the other end, in a big house on a street of big houses, all spread far apart with expensive cars parked in their driveways and garages. They’d been to Yuta’s house before, since his parents went out of town fairly often and he always had people over when they did. As soon as they approached tonight, though, Taeyong could tell this party was bigger than any of the others had been. Lights glowed brilliantly out over the lawn, still covered with unmelted snow, and music pulsed dully through the walls.

“Stop touching your hair,” Doyoung hissed as they rang the bell. 

Taeyong shoved his hands in his pockets. His face felt so exposed without any hair falling into his eyes and he wasn’t used to it. The big front door opened, and Yuta appeared behind it, grinning as they stepped inside. 

“Everyone’s downstairs,” Yuta said. “You can leave your coats in there.” 

They followed his gesture into the living room to leave their stuff, and then went downstairs to the fully finished basement, complete with a second kitchen, the counters of which were covered in plastic cups and bottles of alcohol. The space was already full of people, every one of whom Taeyong recognized, though he didn’t know many of them well. Most seemed to be from their own grade but he saw some younger kids and a bunch who’d graduated a year or two before. The music was deafening down here, the lights dim and splashed with flickering colors from the enormous screen where a basketball game was on, muted; Taeyong supposed the boys scattered over the couches in that part of the room must be Yuta’s teammates. Kids continued filtering down the stairs, and there was a constant chorus of shouts as people were recognized by their friends. Taeyong couldn’t fathom how Yuta knew–really knew–so many different groups of people. 

Doyoung elbowed him suddenly. 

“Ow, what?” Taeyong hissed. But Doyoung just raised his eyebrows and when Taeyong followed his gaze he saw Jaehyun. He was standing against the counter in the kitchen with a group of kids, and for a moment Taeyong felt something uneasy in his gut. It wasn’t jealousy, exactly. More like regret, again, at yet another reminder of all the experiences Jaehyun may have had without him when they weren’t speaking, of those wasted months when Jaehyun had made other friends who Taeyong didn’t really know. But then he looked up at Jaehyun’s face and realized he was staring back at him, wide-eyed, oblivious to the chattering kids around him, and the pang in Taeyong’s gut melted into something very warm and pleasant. 

“I told you he might have a heart attack,” Doyoung whispered, as Jaehyun detached himself from the people around him and walked over. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun said breathlessly. “You look….” He darted his eyes over to Doyoung, as though only just noticing he was there. 

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “I’m getting a drink,” he said, stepping around Jaehyun towards the counter. “Happy Birthday, by the way. Feel free to finish your sentence when I’m out of earshot.” 

“Hi,” Taeyong said, smiling and shifting his weight, resisting the very powerful urge to tug at his hair. 

“Beautiful,” Jaehyun said quietly. “You look beautiful. Wow.” 

“It’s just some gel. Or was it called mousse?” Taeyong waved vaguely around his head. 

Jaehyun smiled. “Was this for me?” 

“No.” Taeyong blushed. “This party is just coincidentally on your birthday, remember?” 

Jaehyun leaned down, grinning. “But it’s Valentine’s Day. And you like me, remember?” 

“I can’t help but notice you didn’t make an effort,” Taeyong said, gesturing at Jaehyun’s sweatshirt, which Taeyong had seen him wear many times before. His thick dark hair hung across his forehead the way it always did. He looked incredible, like he always did. 

“I’ll make an effort later,” Jaehyun said, “Just for you,” and his eyes flickered over Taeyong in a way that made him wonder if maybe he hadn’t properly anticipated the full range of consequences when he’d started rifling through his sister’s hair products. 

At that moment Yuta came back downstairs and was greeted by an exuberant burst of cheers. Jaehyun turned to look, and Taeyong took a moment to press his cold fingers against his hot cheeks. He felt mostly composed again by the time Yuta reached them. At the same moment, Doyoung materialized on Taeyong’s other side and handed him one of the cups he was holding. Taeyong gave him a knowing look, and Doyoung flashed him an innocent smile back. The cup smelled sweet and dangerous. Taeyong took a cautious sip. 

The hours that followed were a whirlwind of noise and light and dark. Bass shuddering through expensive speakers. Voices and shouts and laughter and cursing and occasional delighted squeals. Faces hard to distinguish with only the multicolored lights from the TV screen to illuminate them. Taeyong wasn’t sure he’d ever had conversations with so many different people in such a short span of time. Most of the kids there weren’t ones who’d ever shown particular interest in him, as he hadn’t in them. He got along with them well enough, in classes or at various family and town gatherings, but he didn’t really know them. And yet, to his own surprise, he found he was enjoying himself. Kids shouted his name as though they’d never been more thrilled to see anyone, girls giggled and touched his arms and asked what he did to his hair. One of Yuta’s teammates nearly suffocated him in an exuberant hug when the game on TV ended (Taeyong couldn’t tell if the boy was happy about the outcome or heartbroken but it didn’t seem terribly important). He knew all the enthusiasm was mostly, maybe entirely, due to alcohol, but he didn’t mind. He wouldn’t have been able to handle so much attention if it had actually been real. For his part, he slowly nursed the drink Doyoung had given him and didn’t let anyone refill it. The night was enough of a blur as it was. 

And through it all, there was Jaehyun. In reality, Jaehyun came and went, surrounded by his own bright conversations, slapped on the back by the basketball team, who all seemed to know him, dragged away to do shots at one point, and then again. In reality, Jaehyun wasn’t by Taeyong’s side for every moment. But it felt as though he was. Taeyong was constantly aware of him, and he could tell that Jaehyun was just as attuned to his movements. He imagined he could feel Jaehyun’s eyes on him and every time he looked up, no matter how far away Jaehyun was, no matter how many people he was talking to, he really was looking back. Taeyong had known already that Jaehyun liked him, of course he had known. But it was thrilling to be reminded, to have it proven again every time their eyes met. Taeyong had been burning for so long and every glance in the overhot and overloud basement made the flames inside him catch and leap higher. He didn’t know what to do with himself. 

Jaehyun was back beside him, their shoulders were pressed together. They were on a couch. The basketball game had ended a long time ago and no one had bothered to change the channel, so the raucous gathering was being overseen by a number of sharply suited sports commentators arguing heatedly about something, unheard under the music, which was slower now and reverberated in Taeyong’s chest. 

“Come on,” Jaehyun said, quiet and yet more audible than anything else in the room. He stood up and pulled Taeyong after him, and they wove through the crowded space and through a door, up a narrow flight of stairs, and then up another, broader one. All the other times Taeyong had been to Yuta’s house, they had mostly hung out in the basement at parties like this one. But Jaehyun seemed to know his way around pretty well as he led the way up to the second floor. 

“Is it okay for us to be up here?” Taeyong whispered, even though it was impossible that anyone could hear him. 

Jaehyun didn’t answer, just pulled Taeyong down a hall and into a room at the end.

“Whose room is this?” Taeyong started to ask, but Jaehyun’s lips were on his before he could finish, and it suddenly didn’t seem to matter very much. 

Taeyong wrapped his arms around Jaehyun’s neck and kissed him back, thrilled when Jaehyun’s arms tightened at his back in response. He wasn’t drunk but he felt strangely exposed nonetheless. Defenseless. Unwound. He wasn’t sure if Jaehyun could tell or if he just felt the same way, but there was something different about the way he held him, something braver, hungrier. His hands ran down Taeyong’s back, and then back up, underneath his shirt, pressing into Taeyong’s ribs. The room was dark. The music from the basement throbbed faintly through the floorboards under their sock-covered feet. Taeyong broke the kiss and let Jaehyun pull his shirt up over his head, and their mouths rejoined, as though there’d never been any space between them at all.

Taeyong touched Jaehyun then, his stomach, his chest. The body under Taeyong’s hands was shockingly real, a body he’d seen but never touched, not like this. It was so much better than he’d imagined. Jaehyun’s skin was very hot and he was panting softly as he pulled away to take his own shirt off. The feeling, as they came together again, of so much skin pressed together, of Jaehyun’s bare stomach quivering against his own, was incredible and terrifying. The realization that touch wasn’t just a sensation to be experienced by hand and fingertip, but by sternum and rib and collarbone and bicep, by everything covered in skin, which meant by all of them. 

There was a bed in the room, which Taeyong noticed when his legs bumped against it, and he sat down, pulling Jaehyun with him, their knees knocking together. Jaehyun’s hands tightened on Taeyong’s waist, and Taeyong couldn’t tell if it was Jaehyun’s idea or his own as he climbed into his lap. He could feel Jaehyun’s hips between his thighs. He had never sat like this before with anyone and it seemed like it should have felt strange, but it didn’t. 

“I want…” Jaehyun whispered, but he didn’t finish his sentence. Or maybe that was the entire sentence. Taeyong could understand if it was. He wanted, too. He had never wanted so much. 

“What?” Taeyong whispered back. He thought maybe a lot of time had already passed since Jaehyun had spoken, time lost between their lips and tongues and hands, and Jaehyun’s mouth against his throat, and his teeth scraping his collarbone. 

“I want to touch you,” Jaehyun said, his fingertips on Taeyong’s stomach, then on the button of his jeans. 

“Okay,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun undid the button, and the zipper. Already the contact was unbearable, the incidental pressure of his fingers setting Taeyong’s pulse racing. He couldn’t swallow. He could barely even breathe. Jaehyun’s fingers slipped under the waistband of his boxers. Taeyong shifted, not sure how to move, how to situate himself to suit the angle of someone else’s hand, not his own. And then Jaehyun’s scorching fingers were around him, and it was too good to think. 

Their lips found each other again, then drifted apart over other stretches of skin. Taeyong felt unfocused and overwhelmed and incredible. He held Jaehyun’s shoulders, kissed them, felt the muscles shift as his hand tightened and moved faster. He might have moaned. His body was the only thing that seemed to matter, but his thoughts tried to struggle back to the forefront. 

“Wait,” he gasped. He lifted his head. “Wait.” 

“Why?” said Jaehyun. “Is it not good?” 

“It’s good,” said Taeyong. It was so good. “Let me, too.” 

“It’s fine,” said Jaehyun, trying to move again, but Taeyong held his wrist. 

“It’s your birthday, isn’t it?” 

Jaehyun grinned. Taeyong could barely see his features in the dark but he could see the shine of his teeth; his smile still managed to be the brightest thing. “It’s really fine,” Jaehyun said, the shape of his smile changing his words, making them lighter. “It’s Valentine’s Day. My birthday is just a coincidence.”

Taeyong kissed Jaehyun’s smile, and reached down between them. “Let me,” he said again, and Jaehyun did. 

The concentration required to touch someone else, for the first time, changed things more than Taeyong expected. He no longer felt lost, or he no longer felt he could let himself be lost in only his own sensations. It was awkward and unfamiliar, the angle and the weight and the intense heat of Jaehyun in his hand, hotter than his own skin. He had to think again, not only feel. But the pleasure wasn’t diminished. Instead it heightened, no longer only his own: the quickening of Jaehyun’s breath, the way he shifted under Taeyong’s legs. The weight as he dropped his head onto Taeyong’s shoulder and groaned, a sound Taeyong had never heard anyone make, low and desperate and because of him, for him. It was too much and it was also perfect. 

He felt his stomach tighten, and lifted Jaehyun’s head, kissed him and shivered and came. Jaehyun gasped, like he hadn’t been expecting it, like it was a surprise even though it had definitely been inevitable, with the way Jaehyun was touching him. Maybe it was just the surprise of having it happen to someone else, which Taeyong understood a moment later, when Jaehyun pressed his mouth against Taeyong’s collarbone and his whole body tightened as he let go himself. The heat of his release over Taeyong’s hand was shocking. The unfamiliar way his muscles shuddered and the particular pattern of his ruined breath, nothing like the way Taeyong’s body had given itself away, and yet immediately recognizable as the same rush of pleasure.

They panted together, their breaths aligning after a while. Taeyong’s thoughts were all over the place, shattered, each thought starting and then skipping to another one before he could fully think it. Part of him was definitely panicking, but it didn’t seem to be the most important part, so he did his best to ignore it. Jaehyun had his arms around Taeyong’s back and his cheek against his shoulder. The stretches of Taeyong’s skin that weren’t directly touching Jaehyun cooled, and the stretches of skin that were touching him stayed very hot. He gradually became aware again of the sounds of the house around them, of things outside themselves. 

“I told Doyoung about us. Sort of,” Taeyong said quietly, after what might have been a very long time. 

“Sort of?” Jaehyun’s low voice reverberated into Taeyong’s chest. It was strangely thrilling to be close enough to feel someone else’s sound, not only hear it. 

“Are you mad I told? I should have asked. It’s just, he guessed, and I—” 

“I’m not mad,” Jaehyun said. “Did it feel good to tell him?” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong said. “More than I thought it would.”

He felt Jaehyun’s smile against his skin. He’d never felt so much before. He’d never realized how diminished sight and sound were on their own, how much better touch could be. 

“We should go back downstairs,” Taeyong said, after another quiet stretch of time. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, but they didn’t move. 

Taeyong caught sight of a digital clock across the room. Past midnight. “Oh,” he said. “Your birthday’s over.” 

Jaehyun lifted his head. “You didn’t even wish me Happy Birthday,” he said, frowning up at him, but his eyes sparkled in the dark. 

“This wasn’t happy enough for you?” 

Jaehyun laughed quietly. “It was.” And then, even more softly, “I didn’t think it would be. His birthday was just a few days ago.” 

“Oh,” Taeyong said. He didn’t need to ask who Jaehyun meant. He suddenly felt ridiculous, sitting here like this with his hand still sticky between them. He couldn’t think of anything to say. 

“I didn’t mean to say that now,” said Jaehyun. “I don’t mean to keep ruining things.” 

“You didn’t ruin anything,” Taeyong said, though the weaker selfish parts of him did wish Jaehyun hadn’t said anything. 

“I really like you,” Jaehyun said. “You make me really happy. I’m trying not to worry so much about feeling happy. I know it’s not fair to you.” 

“It’s not about being fair,” said Taeyong. The weaker selfish parts of him quieted. There was only a dull ache in his chest, under Jaehyun’s cheek. “I’m sorry I never really know what to say. I don’t know anything, about any of this, about what it must be like. I don’t want to say the wrong thing. Everything I think of always seems like the wrong thing.” 

Jaehyun leaned his face into Taeyong’s neck. “Why are you so afraid of saying the wrong thing?” 

Taeyong couldn’t think of how to respond. He knew part of it was just that he was afraid of embarrassing himself. But more than that, he was afraid of hurting Jaehyun–and as soon as he had that thought he knew that what he was really afraid of was just the unchangeable fact that Jaehyun had been hurt, that something bad had happened to him and it couldn’t be undone no matter what Taeyong said or didn’t say. He was afraid of the overwhelming possibility that nothing he could ever do would really matter, because he couldn’t make it so that Jaehyun simply would not hurt, ever, at all. 

He curled his clean hand over the back of Jaehyun’s neck and held him, feeling the pulse drumming under his fingertips. After a while he thought of something to say again, something that didn’t feel like the wrong thing, but he whispered it anyway, just in case. “You make me happy too.” 

Jaehyun let out a breath and his shoulders loosened. Taeyong hadn’t noticed until then how tightly wound Jaehyun had been. He let Jaehyun sink into him, marveling at the heavy softness of his limbs, at how good everything suddenly was–the warmth between their bodies, the smell of Jaehyun’s shampoo and cologne and of their sweat and mingled pleasure. He had said such a small, simple thing. But it had mattered, after all. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun woke up the next morning very early, in Yuta’s basement, curled up on a couch that was too small for him. Two of Yuta’s teammates were slumped across the other couches, which were longer, but so were the basketball players, so that seemed fair. Anyway, they’d already been passed out on them when Jaehyun had come back downstairs with Taeyong the night before, and they hadn’t woken up even as the party died down around them and the house started emptying out.

Jaehyun sat up. Pale gray light was filtering through the high small windows. The basement was a mess, but it was all a predictable sort of mess, cups and bottles and wet counters. No puke, nothing broken, that Jaehyun could see. He couldn’t have slept more than a few hours, and he wasn’t a morning person even at the best of times, so he was surprised by how awake and clearheaded he felt. A pleasant sort of warmth flickered in his stomach as he remembered the night before, and he nearly let himself replay it all until his cheeks heated and he realized that might be risky to do when he wasn’t alone. He got up and shuffled into the kitchen and started stacking the empty plastic cups. By the time Doyoung came down the stairs a half hour later, the counters were mostly clear, and the trash was mostly in plastic bags. 

Jaehyun blinked at Doyoung, who’d started rummaging quietly around the couches, glancing warily at the sleeping basketball players. 

“You stayed over?” Jaehyun asked, trying to keep his voice quiet despite his surprise. 

Doyoung jumped and spun to look at him. “Holy shit,” he hissed. “I didn’t think anyone was awake.” His cheeks had gone very pink. 

“What about Taeyong?” 

“He went home last night,” Doyoung said. “Didn’t he say bye?” 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun. “But I thought you were with him.” 

“I, uh, came back,” said Doyoung. “I didn’t let him walk home alone, don’t look at me like that! A junior was out there and she gave him a ride. She wasn’t drinking, I promise. God, you’re surprisingly responsible.” 

“I didn’t say anything,” said Jaehyun. “And why is that a surprise? You’re surprisingly irresponsible, I think.” 

Jaehyun was joking, but Doyoung blushed harder and made a sort of helpless gesture with his hands. “I’ve never really dated anyone before,” he said. “I got kind of carried away.” 

Jaehyun snorted, and Doyoung smiled sheepishly back. He didn’t need to ask who Doyoung had gotten carried away with. 

“Neither have I,” Jaehyun said, turning back to the counter. 

“Really?” said Doyoung. 

Jaehyun glanced at him, eyes narrowed. “Taeyong didn’t believe me either. Why is that such a surprise?” 

“I mean, you’re incredibly hot. Fair to expect someone would’ve tried to get in your pants before now,” said Doyoung. “Have you seen my phone?” 

“Uh, no,” Jaehyun said, a little stunned, but Doyoung didn’t seem to expect a response to his–was that a compliment?

Doyoung went back to looking around the couches, finally letting out a triumphant whispered sort of shout as he extracted his phone from under one of the basketball player’s ankles. 

“You might want to make sure those guys are still alive,” Jaehyun said. 

“Definitely breathing,” Doyoung confirmed. He touched a clean stretch of counter skeptically, determined it was dry, and hopped up to sit on it. “So, you and Taeyong, then.” 

Jaehyun glanced at him, his own cheeks heating. “Yeah.” 

“You’re not going to suddenly give him the cold shoulder for months again, are you?” Doyoung said. 

Jaehyun straightened up. “It wasn’t like that,” he said.

“So what was it like?” 

Jaehyun studied him for a minute. Doyoung looked openly back, and Jaehyun decided it wasn’t a challenge, just a question. He supposed he would have wanted to know too, if their roles had been reversed. “I just had–have–some stuff going on, and maybe I sort of forgot it was real stuff that couldn’t just be fixed in a day, or couldn’t just be fixed by Taeyong. And it sort of freaked him out, I think.” He scrubbed at a sticky red puddle on the counter. “I think it might still freak him out, actually.” 

Doyoung hummed. “I doubt it,” he said. 

Jaehyun looked at him again. “How can you possibly know that?” 

Doyoung shrugged. “I know Taeyong,” he said. “He’s pretty hard on himself. Not about normal stuff like grades or being popular. But about weird stuff like this.” 

“You don’t even know what ‘this’ is,” Jaehyun said, though he was uncertain; maybe Doyoung did know. 

“It sounds like you were having a hard time with something, and Taeyong thinks he doesn’t know how to fix it,” Doyoung said. “So he feels like he’s letting you down.” 

“That’s stupid,” Jaehyun said. “I’ve told him that’s stupid.” 

“He probably knows it’s stupid too,” Doyoung said. “But it probably also still makes him feel bad.” 

Jaehyun tipped his head back and stared at the ceiling for a minute. “I don’t want him to feel bad,” he said quietly. “But I also don’t want to feel bad. I want to be able to talk to him, you know? Without him getting weird. I mean,” he looked back at Doyoung, “It’s way better than before, obviously. But still.” 

Doyoung didn’t say anything, and Jaehyun thought the conversation might be over. He went back to the stubborn red puddle, and managed to get it completely cleared up before Doyoung startled him by speaking again. “I don’t think you should worry too much,” he said. “Either of you. You’ve only been on speaking terms for what, a month?” 

“Since before Christmas,” Jaehyun said, a little defensively.

“Okay, two months. Not that I’m an expert, but I’m pretty sure things like this take time. It’s been getting better already, like you said. So it can keep getting better next month too. And so on. Until you graduate and have to figure out what to do in the real world. That’s what you should be worried about.” 

“Wow,” said Jaehyun, “Thanks.” But he did feel strangely better. Maybe it was just knowing for sure that Doyoung didn’t hate him, something he hadn’t even noticed he’d been worried about. The relief he felt suggested he had been. 

~~

The exhaustion of only getting three hours sleep caught up to Jaehyun as soon as he got home later that morning, and if he hadn’t felt quite so aware of the stench of beer clinging to his clothes he wouldn’t even have been able to convince himself to shower and put on clean boxers before dropping into bed and falling asleep. When he woke his room was dim, and he was momentarily disoriented, with no sense of what time of day it was, if the sun was rising or setting. His phone was buzzing on the mattress next to him. He fumbled for it and put it on speaker, too groggy to lift his face out of the pillow. 

“Hello?” 

“Were you asleep?” Taeyong’s voice crackled into the room. 

“Mm.” 

“When did you get back from Yuta’s?” Taeyong asked. 

“This morning. Or–what time is it?” 

“Like six,” said Taeyong. “I’m outside.” 

“What?” Jaehyun lifted his head. “Why didn’t you come in?” 

“I rang the doorbell like five times. I guess your uncle’s not home.” 

Jaehyun groaned and sat up. “I’m coming.” He hung up, and rummaged around for a sweatshirt before stumbling downstairs. He opened the door, shivering as a cold blast of air hit him, swirling around his bare legs and cutting right through the sweatshirt. He stepped back quickly to let Taeyong in. 

Taeyong smiled at him, raising his eyebrows. “Sleep well?” 

“Mmph,” Jaehyun mumbled, and started back up the stairs as Taeyong took off his boots and coat behind him. It was so much warmer in his bed.

By the time Taeyong caught up with him and entered his room, Jaehyun was already under the covers again. He squinted at Taeyong, who looked like he was trying not to laugh. “I can go, you know, if you want to sleep,” Taeyong said. 

“No,” Jaehyun said. “Come here.” He shifted over and lifted the blankets. Taeyong looked at him skeptically. His cheeks were pink from the cold outside. “I’m not going to do anything to you. I just don’t want to get out of bed. And you’re too far away like this.” 

Taeyong shook his head and looked down at himself. “It’s snowy out. My jeans are wet.” 

“So take them off,” Jaehyun said. “Or there are sweatpants in the drawer, if you want to be proper. I won’t even peek.” He’d closed his eyes anyway, simply out of sleepiness, but he could pretend it was out of respect for Taeyong’s modesty. Though he wasn’t really sure if that was necessary, after what they’d done at Yuta’s house the night before.

There was some shuffling and then the bed sank next to Jaehyun, and Taeyong stretched out beside him. His knees when they pressed against Jaehyun’s were bare, and very cold, as were his hands when he pressed them suddenly to Jaehyun’s cheeks. Jaehyun flinched, his eyes flying open. “Hey!”

Taeyong laughed. “Hey.” 

Jaehyun blinked. “Such a cruel way to be woken up,” he said. 

“Hmm,” said Taeyong. He leaned in and pressed his lips to Jaehyun’s. His lips were so warm, the way they always were. “Better?” 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun. “Do that again.” 

Taeyong did, and slid his cold hands up under Jaehyun’s sweatshirt to make him gasp, but his fingers warmed quickly against Jaehyun’s chest. When they broke apart, Jaehyun wasn’t tired anymore at all. He stared at Taeyong, his hair mussed against the pillow only inches away, his lips wet, and an indescribable feeling came over him, that Taeyong was here. That Taeyong was his. 

“Awake now?” Taeyong asked, smiling. Their legs were tangled together beneath the blankets, though Jaehyun was careful to keep some space between them where it counted. He wasn’t sure what would happen otherwise. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said. “Thanks for coming over.” 

“I texted you a bunch, you know. I was sort of worried.” 

Taeyong still had a gentle smile on his face, but Jaehyun realized as he looked into his eyes that he wasn’t joking, that he really had been worried. 

“About what?” Jaehyun asked quietly. 

Taeyong shrugged with the shoulder that wasn’t pressed into the mattress, and made his smile wider, though the expression in his eyes didn’t change. “I don’t know. There’s a lot to worry about when it comes to you.” 

Jaehyun sighed and shifted closer until his forehead bumped into Taeyong’s. “I know.” 

“Mostly I was just worried you were freaking out about last night, though,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun pulled away and looked straight at him. “I definitely wasn’t.” 

“Well, now I can see that. When you weren’t reading my texts all day I wasn’t sure.” 

“Sorry,” Jaehyun groaned. “I got home and just knocked out. Yuta’s couch was so uncomfortable, and people didn’t leave for ages after you left. I didn’t get much sleep. I wasn’t avoiding you, I wouldn’t–I mean, I won’t do that again. And last night… I really liked it,” he finished on a whisper.  

“Me too.” Taeyong smiled, his cheeks flushed, the worried look clearing from his eyes. 

Jaehyun tightened his arm around Taeyong’s waist. “It’s sort of nice, though, to have you be worried about something so normal. I don’t mean I want you to worry at all. Just, compared to the other things, you know.” 

Taeyong gave him a look that suggested he might have been worried about other things too, but he didn’t say anything. They lay there for a while, shifting against each other occasionally, though there was no urgency in their movements. Taeyong’s hand was still on Jaehyun’s chest, under his sweatshirt, and his thumb traced an absent pattern over his skin. 

“You know who else stayed over at Yuta’s?” Jaehyun said, suddenly remembering. 

“Doyoung,” said Taeyong, and then, at Jaehyun’s surprised look, “He called me this morning. Told me way more details than I wanted to know.” 

Jaehyun laughed. “They’re not wasting any time, huh.” 

“I mean, that’s probably the more normal way to do it,” Taeyong said, almost to himself. 

“Hmm,” said Jaehyun, squinting at him. 

Taeyong blinked, as though just realizing he’d spoken aloud. “Er, not that we should compare ourselves to Doyoung and Yuta, of all people. They can do whatever they want. Unfortunately I’ll probably hear all about it whether I want to or not.” 

Jaehyun smirked and rolled onto his back, leaving his knees and ankles crossed over and under Taeyong’s. “You know, Doyoung said something to me this morning—”

“Please no, I don’t want to hear any more about the things Yuta did to him.”

Jaehyun turned and stared. “What? No, not about that. Wait, what Yuta did —? No, nevermind, I don’t want to know. That’s not what I was talking about at all.” 

“Oh, thank god,” sighed Taeyong. 

“He was talking about when we graduate. What might happen then, what we’ll do, you know. And I realized, we haven’t really talked about that at all.” 

“It’s still a long way off,” Taeyong said, his voice soft. “And this,” he gestured between them, “is still pretty new, right?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Jaehyun said quickly, flustered, “I just meant I haven’t even asked what your plans are.” He turned and looked at Taeyong again, tried to focus despite the temptation to forget everything and go back to kissing. “I’m going to take another year before I go to college. It was just too much to figure out this year. Even though I’ve been doing better, I think.” 

Taeyong nodded. “Do you know what you’ll do?”

“Get a job, I guess. And apply to go to college for the year after.” He was pleased to hear how certain he sounded, as though the prospect didn’t terrify him at all. “What about you?” 

“I applied to schools,” Taeyong said. “Just waiting to hear back.” 

“Around here?” 

Taeyong shook his head. “Mostly in the city. I’ve always known I want to move away, see what other places are like. River’s Bend is just so small. Will you go back to your parents?” 

“I’m not sure yet,” Jaehyun said. “I guess if you’ll be in the city that might be more tempting.” He smiled. “But I think my uncle would let me stay, and maybe even have me work in the library, like for pay this time, if I wanted. But I haven’t decided. Do you know what you want to study?” 

Taeyong made a face. “I’m sort of hoping that I’ll start taking classes and that will help me decide what I want to do. Not that I admitted that on my applications. I pretended to know exactly what I’m passionate about and what I want to do with my life like everybody else. But for me college has always mostly been about getting out of here, honestly.” 

“Do you hate it here that much?” Jaehun asked. 

“No,” Taeyong said. “No, it’s not like that. I just always knew I didn’t want to stay here my entire life. At least, not without seeing and living other places too. There’s just so much more out there and I don’t know anything about any of it.” 

Something like a scowl flitted briefly across his face, but before Jaehyun could ask anything more Taeyong moved suddenly closer and laid his head on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun nearly flinched, he was so surprised. But then he sensed the tightness in Taeyong’s body too, as though he was only resting his head there tentatively, in case Jaehyun pushed him off. He wrapped his arm around Taeyong’s back and felt something hot spread through him when Taeyong immediately relaxed. He ran his fingers through Taeyong’s hair, and marveled at the way Taeyong’s limbs softened even further. He’d never had this effect on anyone before, had never even known it was possible. It felt something like power and he didn’t know what to do with it. 

“I hope you get in everywhere you applied,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong’s hair tickled against his neck. 

Taeyong snorted. “I doubt it. But just one would be enough.” He was quiet for a moment, and then added, “We’ll be able to figure things out too, when the time comes, right?” 

“Yeah.” Jaehyun swallowed. “Like you said, it’s still a long way off.” 

“I can hear your heartbeat,” Taeyong murmured. 

“I would hope so, since your ear’s right over my heart,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong’s hand was under his sweatshirt again, on his stomach, his fingertips trailing over his skin. “If you keep doing that….” 

“Hmm?” said Taeyong. 

Jaehyun caught his hand as it traced down below his navel. “Don’t tease me,” he said hoarsely. 

“I’m not,” Taeyong said, and when Jaehyun lifted his head to look at him he could see Taeyong blushing even in the dim evening light, uncertainty alongside the heat in his eyes. “I like touching you,” he said in a hushed voice, sounding almost surprised to hear himself speaking. “Your body.” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun said, a little dazed, unable to break eye contact now that he’d fallen into it. 

He let go of Taeyong’s wrist, but Taeyong didn’t touch his stomach again. Instead he reached for Jaehyun’s neck and kissed him softly–his lips were always so soft–but Jaehyun lifted his head quickly, pressing up into the kiss, seeking more, shivering as Taeyong’s taste spread over his tongue. He rolled them over, amazed that Taeyong let him, that when he rolled his hips down without even really meaning to Taeyong moaned quietly into his mouth and opened his legs wider. Jaehyun pushed Taeyong’s shirt up and ran a hand over his side, the slight curve of his waist and the sharpness of his hip. Taeyong was smaller than he was, his muscles less obvious, but Jaehyun could feel them under his hand, taut and strong, nearly quivering now as he touched him. He ran his hand back up over the slight swell of his chest. His thumb slipped over Taeyong’s nipple and Taeyong gasped and bit Jaehyun’s lip, then pulled away and hissed, “Shit, sorry,” looking startled, his hand over his mouth. 

Jaehyun stared down at him, running his tongue over his lip where he could still feel the pressure of Taeyong’s teeth. “It’s okay,” he murmured. “Did you like that? Or… not?” He quirked a smile at Taeyong whose eyes were hectic with a mix of desire and worry. “I couldn’t really tell what kind of, uh, bite that was.” 

Taeyong let out a small laugh then, glancing away as though embarrassed, though Jaehyun was relieved to see him smiling. Taeyong looked back up at him. “I did like it,” he said. 

So Jaehyun did it again, and then, his head swimming a little, lowered his mouth to Taeyong’s chest and licked over his nipple, holding his waist tightly, trying to catalog every reaction Taeyong gave him as he pressed his lips to his skin and sucked. Every gasp. The way Taeyong squirmed, the tightness of his fingers in Jaehyun’s hair. Jaehyun had never imagined he’d be so sensitive. He was so hard it hurt and he pressed his aching cock helplessly against Taeyong’s hip to relieve some of the pressure. Taeyong’s hands suddenly left Jaehyun’s hair and scrabbled at the waistband of his boxers, pushing them down to his thighs before Jaehyun quite knew what was happening, and then shifting and lowering his own. Jaehyun lifted his head, about to say something, but then he shuddered and dropped it again when Taeyong gripped his waist and rolled his hips up against him.

They rocked against each other, their erections trapped between them. It was like nothing Jaehyun had ever experienced and yet it was still not enough. He kissed Taeyong’s neck, mumbled nonsense against his skin. Taeyong’s hands were on his ass and then they were fumbling between their bodies, his breath very fast in Jaehyun’s ear. Jaehyun reached down too, wrapped his hands around Taeyong’s length, or his own, or both of them; he seemed to keep losing track of whose hands were whose. His knees pressed into the mattress and the waistband of his boxers stretched against his thighs and all he could feel was a rushing heat inside him, an overwhelming awareness of Taeyong’s closeness, which seemed to surround him and fill the entire room. He wanted more than Taeyong’s hot fingers. He wanted his mouth, his body; he wanted to have him in a dizzying way he’d only ever imagined. But he couldn’t pull away, couldn’t speak, didn’t know what he’d say even if he could. He wondered distantly–very distantly–if it was normal to lose himself so quickly and completely. Taeyong whispered his name in his ear. He couldn’t tell who came first, but suddenly there was hot liquid spilling between them over their fingers and stomachs and he couldn’t think of anything at all. 

“Shit,” Jaehyun panted against Taeyong’s neck. He didn’t want to crush Taeyong, but he’d collapsed on top of him anyway, and now wasn’t sure he could lift himself back up. Taeyong’s clean hand had tightened on his hip and didn’t show any sign of loosening, so maybe it was okay if Jaehyun lay there a little longer. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong breathed, and then, catching Jaehyun entirely by surprise, he laughed, giggled , right in Jaehyun’s ear. 

Jaehyun lifted his head and stared down at him, and Taeyong grinned back up. “What?” Jaehyun said, a little nervously. Was he being laughed at? Had he done something embarrassing in those last few hazy moments as he came? 

Taeyong laughed again and let go of Jaehyun’s hip to wrap his arms around his neck instead. “I don’t know,” he said. “Just.” He pulled Jaehyun down and kissed him, even as he smiled, and they lay like that, kissing lazily, unconcerned with the growing discomfort of their tangled clothes and the mess between them, until they were startled apart by the sound of the front door opening downstairs, and Changmin’s voice calling up to Jaehyun. 

Jaehyun made a strangled sort of noise and pulled himself up quickly, nearly tumbling out of the bed as he tried to disentangle himself from Taeyong, fix his clothes, and stand up all at the same time. For a moment Taeyong was stretched out on his bed before him, clothes in disarray and stomach covered in their mingled release and Jaehyun thought he might get hard again just at the sight of him. But then Taeyong sat up, looking like he was trying not to laugh again, though his eyes were on the door as Changmin called again. 

“You should probably answer him before he comes up to look for you,” Taeyong said. 

It took Jaehyun a moment to understand what he’d said, because he was staring at the way Taeyong rearranged his clothes, the simple efficiency of his movements. Jaehyun remembered how those same hands had touched him so heatedly a moment before and nearly forgot again that anything existed outside his bedroom.  

“Jaehyun?” Changmin’s voice was closer, on the stairs. 

“Yeah!” Jaehyun jumped and nearly shouted. “I’ll, uh, be right down.” 

“Oh, that’s okay.” His uncle’s voice faded a little, clearly he’d turned to go back down the stairs. “Just checking if you were here.” 

Jaehyun let out a breath, and Taeyong did laugh then, covering his mouth with both hands. Jaehyun smiled sheepishly back. “Here,” he said, picking up a t-shirt from the floor and handing it to Taeyong, who wrinkled his nose at it and looked at him questioningly. “For the, uh….” He trailed off and gestured towards Taeyong’s stomach. 

Taeyong blushed and took the shirt from him, scrubbing it across his skin. Jaehyun forced himself to turn away and rummaged around for some clothes to change into. Now that he had calmed down he was left with a strange uncertainty as he remembered all the thoughts that had passed through his mind in the heat of everything. All the desires. Last night at Yuta’s it had felt different, gentler. A little more dreamlike, a little safer. But this time had surprised him: the rush of it, the speed with which he was overcome, the heavy need, and the fact that he could feel every one of his feelings mirrored in Taeyong’s body, that same desperation. It was unnerving to find himself so obviously out of his own control. And yet all he wanted was to do it again. He had the sense that he wasn’t even aware yet of all the things he might want. Of all the things that might be wanted from him. 

He glanced back at Taeyong, and found him sitting on the edge of his bed, watching him openly as he changed. Jaehyun thought Taeyong would look away, but instead a crooked smile broke across his face, filling his eyes with warmth, not the heat of earlier but something just as big, just as daunting. Jaehyun stared back, clean shirt forgotten in his hand, until the noises from downstairs reminded him they weren’t alone, and he couldn’t spend the rest of the night just staring. No matter how much he wanted to.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

The end of February brought the first hint of spring in a stretch of unseasonably mild weather. Taeyong knew it wouldn’t last, but it was impossible not to get caught up in the giddiness of the sudden warmth along with everyone else. Kids dawdled on the front steps before school, reluctant to enter the sunless building, and sprawled across the bleachers after school let out. The fields were soggy and the streets perpetually gleamed as the snow melted and reflected the pale sun. By the first week of March, although the warmth gave out and the cold settled back over River’s Bend, there was no trace of snow left and the optimism of spring stubbornly remained. 

Taeyong tried his best to stay focused on school–he hadn’t heard back from any colleges yet, after all, and was all too aware of how unformed his future still was. But between the weather and Jaehyun he didn’t think he was doing a particularly good job at keeping up his motivation. It was so much more appealing to make out behind the gym until they were both hopelessly late for class. Taeyong hated being late, but the discomfort of having every pair of eyes in a classroom snap up to stare at him when he entered just didn’t seem like a very real concern when Jaehyun’s tongue was slipping hotly into his mouth. 

This carelessness had started bleeding into other areas as well. It was hard not to rush to Jaehyun’s class right after the bell, hard to make himself push Jaehyun away when he half-tackled, half-hugged him as they passed in the hallways. He knew they had reached a point where their behavior could no longer plausibly be explained as platonic and he found he cared less than he thought he would. It was strange that something that had felt like a big deal only a few weeks before could so quickly stop worrying him. Maybe it was that he’d been imagining that some sort of announcement would be required, that he would need to tell people what he and Jaehyun were, that he would need to explain and justify all his thoughts and feelings. In the end all it took was Jaehyun slipping his hand into his one day as they walked to class, and Taeyong interlocking their fingers instead of pulling away. It wasn’t that kids didn’t notice, but the interest their classmates showed through glances and giggles and whispers wasn’t so different from the usual gossip that circulated whenever any other couple started dating. Mildly embarrassing, but not a particularly monumental event. And Taeyong couldn’t pretend it didn’t feel sort of nice, too, to have people know. 

It was almost lucky that, ever since Taeyong had completed his college applications, his parents had made him start helping at the grocery store again after school a few times a week. Otherwise he might never have been able to extract himself from Jaehyun’s presence. There was a faint, distant part of him that wondered if it was normal to want to spend literally all of his time with another person. Weren’t people, especially people like Taeyong, supposed to want space at a certain point, and time to themselves? Wouldn’t they get sick of each other if they kept this up? Normal or not, it didn’t change how much Jaehyun had consumed not only Taeyong’s time, but all his waking thoughts, and quite a few of his dreams on top of that.

The first Friday of March presented another worry for Taeyong to start turning over obsessively in his mind, thanks to Doyoung, who showed up in homeroom in the morning barely suppressing a grin and immediately pulled his chair very close to Taeyong’s. 

“Guess what?” 

Taeyong looked up. “What?” From the bright look in Doyoung’s eyes he already had a pretty good feeling he knew what, or who, this piece of news would concern. 

“We did it,” Doyoung said breathlessly. 

“Uh, did what?” 

“ It, ” Doyoung hissed. “Me and Yuta. We had sex.” 

Taeyong looked around quickly, though the rest of the students were having their own lively conversations and no one was paying any attention to them. “Seriously? On a random Thursday?” 

“Is there some rule about not losing your virginity on a Thursday? And it’s been like a month,” Doyoung said. Taeyong just stared at him. “And, well, Yuta’s done it before, so—”

Taeyong narrowed his eyes. “So he pressured you into it?” 

“No!” Doyoung said, loud enough that this time a few kids did glance their way. Doyoung lowered his voice. “No, he didn’t at all. I wanted to. I mean, don’t you?”

“Uh,” said Taeyong. 

“ Don’t you?” Doyoung asked, now looking genuinely curious.

“I mean, yeah, sure,” Taeyong said, flustered. “I do.”

“But?” Doyoung prompted.

Taeyong said nothing. He had no idea what to say that would make enough sense for Doyoung to understand his hesitation. He didn’t really understand it himself. Because he did want to have sex with Jaehyun, and had thought about it, increasingly often. Every time Jaehyun kissed him he was momentarily overwhelmed by how strong his desire for him was. He’d never known it was possible to feel so much. But it wasn’t enough to erase all his doubts. If anything, the forcefulness of it only made him doubt himself more. He didn’t think just being ridiculously horny and having no self control was a good enough reason to have sex with someone, at least not the first time he ever did it, and at least not with Jaehyun, who was already dealing with so much. Maybe if everything between them had happened normally, without those months of silence and hurt. Maybe if Jaehyun hadn’t come here to get away from tragedy. He couldn’t always silence the worry that Jaehyun might still be more easily hurt than other people, that it wouldn’t take much to derail all the healing he’d been doing, and he didn’t want to be the one to mess things up for him, again. More than that, he wasn’t sure yet how much this perfect growing thing between them could accommodate, how much of his need and hunger it could take, and he wasn’t ready to put it to the test. As much as he worried about hurting Jaehyun, he worried even more about how much he might get hurt himself, if Jaehyun pulled away from him again. 

Taeyong gave up on trying to make sense of it all, but Doyoung was still looking at him expectantly. So he deflected. “Did it hurt?” 

Doyoung frowned. “What makes you so sure I was the bottom?” Taeyong blinked at him, startled, but Doyoung promptly grinned. “No, you’re right, I was. This time, anyway. And yeah, it kinda hurt. But it was also good.” He shrugged. “You’ll see. I mean, unless Jaehyun sucks. Which he might. You know, I think you were his first kiss. Can you believe that?” 

Taeyong flushed. “I don’t think he’ll suck. And what makes you so sure I’d be the bottom?” Doyoung raised an eyebrow and Taeyong felt his cheeks heat even further, refusing to admit that he had, in fact, mostly imagined how it would feel to have Jaehyun on top of him. Inside him. Luckily he was saved from having to say anything else by the teacher standing up and quieting the class down for the morning’s announcements. 

The cold weather returned that day, suddenly and unexpectedly, at least unless you were checking the weather, which Taeyong usually did when he got dressed for school, and which Jaehyun apparently did not. The morning had dawned still mild and sunny as the last few days had been. By lunchtime it had dropped twenty degrees, and by the time school let out the day was gray and chilly with a biting wind that made it feel even colder. Taeyong found Jaehyun after school, huddling by the front doors in only a t-shirt, which arguably hadn’t even been warm enough for the morning’s weather, let alone the sudden plunge back to this wintry chill. 

“You must be freezing,” Taeyong said cheerfully, as he pushed through the doors and started down the steps.

Jaehyun hurried to catch up with him. “Isn’t this when you chivalrously offer your boyfriend your jacket?” 

“Chivalry was from before the internet,” Taeyong said, though his chest had warmed thrillingly at “boyfriend.” “Before they had apps to tell them to not be an idiot and wear a coat.” 

“You’re so heartless,” Jaehyun said, trying to nestle himself under one of Taeyong’s arms. 

He poked Taeyong’s side until Taeyong flinched and let go of the laugh he’d been holding. “Fine, fine, here.” Taeyong shrugged out of his coat and draped it around Jaehyun’s shoulders, then pulled up the hood of his sweatshirt and tried to ignore how little it did against the cold. 

“Now I feel bad,” sighed Jaehyun. 

“Not bad enough to give me my coat back,” said Taeyong, raising an eyebrow as Jaehyun shoved his arms gratefully into the sleeves. 

Jaehyun grinned and they walked towards the bike rack, since now that the streets were clear of snow Taeyong preferred biking rather than trying to rely on Yuta for rides. Yuta was always happy to drive them, of course, but he was so busy that there was never any guarantee about when he’d actually be able to leave school. And now that Yuta and Doyoung were dating the rides were punctuated by a lot of moments that made Taeyong wish he was anywhere else but in that car. 

“Wanna come over? Or do you have work again?” Jaehyun asked. 

“Nope, I was already there the past two days, so they’ll let me off today,” said Taeyong. They reached their bikes and busied themselves for a moment with the locks. 

“I kept wanting to go back to the river,” Jaehyun said, straightening up and waiting for Taeyong, who was struggling to extract his bike from between two others. “Now that the snow’s gone. But then it got cold again.” 

“You should’ve known it wouldn’t stay warm,” Taeyong said. “It’s barely March.” 

“Yes, thank you for once again lecturing me about the weather, just in case I forgot what you said about it five minutes ago,” Jaehyun said irritably. 

Taeyong shook his head. “We can still go to the tree in the cold, you know. We went that time before Christmas. There was even snow that day.” 

“Right,” Jaehyun said, and stared off for a moment, looking distracted, until Taeyong finally wrenched his bike free and swung his leg over the seat. “Well, maybe when we both have coats,” Jaehyun said, and then added quickly, “I know , I know, I get it,” as Taeyong opened his mouth again, grinning. 

By the time they reached Jaehyun’s house, Taeyong’s cheeks were nearly numb from the cold. He pressed his equally cold hands against them as they walked inside, shivering. Jaehyun looked at him guiltily but before he could say anything his uncle poked his head out from the living room. 

“Oh, hello Taeyong,” he said, smiling.

“Hi Mr. Park,” said Taeyong. 

“You look freezing,” Mr. Park said, looking concerned. “Where’s your coat?”

Taeyong pointed at Jaehyun, and smirked when Mr. Park frowned at his nephew and shook his head. 

Jaehyun shrugged out of the coat and hung it, with a great show of care, next to the door. “Thank you, Taeyong, so very, very much, for lending an idiot like me your precious coat, and probably saving me from freezing to death. I owe you my life.” He bowed dramatically. 

Mr. Park stared at Jaehyun for a moment, then seemed to give up and turned towards the kitchen. “Taeyong, will you stay for dinner later?”

“Oh, uh,” Taeyong glanced at Jaehyun, who nodded eagerly. “Okay, yes. Thanks, Mr. Park.” 

“We’ll be upstairs,” Jaehyun said, already starting up the stairs towards his room. 

As soon as they entered, before the door was even closed, Jaehyun took Taeyong by the shoulders and kissed him. Taeyong fumbled behind him to push the door all the way closed. “Not with the door wide open, what are you doing?” he said, as soon as Jaehyun pulled away enough for him to speak. 

Jaehyun just smiled, tracing his thumb softly over Taeyong’s lips. “I’ve been waiting all day to do that.” Taeyong blushed. “Anyway,” Jaehyun went on, winking, “You looked like you needed to be warmed up.” 

Taeyong made an indignant noise and shoved Jaehyun away from him, so he stumbled backwards laughing and dropped onto his bed. Jaehyun didn’t seem bothered in the slightest. Instead he just watched Taeyong eagerly. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Taeyong asked, heading for Jaehyun’s desk instead, pushing a heap of clothes off the chair and sitting down. 

“You know why,” Jaehyun said. 

“Your uncle is right downstairs,” Taeyong tried. 

“That’s never stopped you before.” 

Taeyong opened his mouth to protest, but Jaehyun had a point. They’d spent a fair amount of time making out in this room, and then some, while Mr. Park came and went and bustled around the house, none the wiser. Taeyong hoped. 

“It feels weirder since I literally just spoke to him,” Taeyong said. 

“You worry too much,” Jaehyun said, but he flopped back across his bed and stopped staring so expectantly at Taeyong. 

Taeyong pretended to be distracted by something on his phone while the conversation he’d had with Doyoung that morning replayed through his head. He knew the worries he had were ones he should just talk to Jaehyun about, and he told himself, as he stared unseeingly at his phone screen, to just open his mouth and say something, anything, to broach the subject. But everything he thought of felt terribly difficult to actually say out loud, in his own voice. Maybe he should have just let Jaehyun keep kissing him after all. Maybe he should just go for it, and see what happened, like most people seemed to, without agonizing over every single half-imagined consequence or talking through every detail. 

“You know, it’s Friday,” Jaehyun said abruptly. 

Taeyong looked up. Jaehyun had picked up a tennis ball from somewhere and was tossing it up towards the ceiling and catching it again while he lay on his back. “Uh, yes?” 

“There’s no school tomorrow.” 

“Right,” said Taeyong. Jaehyun kept tossing the tennis ball, and Taeyong couldn’t see enough of his face to get any clues as to why he was bringing this up. 

“Do you… maybe want to stay over?” Jaehyun asked. 

Taeyong’s mouth went dry. Had Jaehyun known what he was thinking about? “Do you want to have sex?” he asked, so startled the words came out without thinking.

Jaehyun sat up very fast and stared at him. “That’s not–that wasn’t—” His cheeks and ears were very pink. “That’s not why I asked,” he finished weakly. 

“Oh,” Taeyong said, and then turned and covered his face with his hands. “Oh god, please pretend I didn’t say anything.” 

“No, I mean, I… I do want to,” Jaehyun said quickly. “I just didn’t think… tonight.” 

“Yeah, no, of course,” Taeyong said. His voice was steady, at least, though he knew his show of casualness was rather compromised by the fact that he was still hiding his face. “Seriously, just forget it.” 

“I mean, I’m not prepared,” Jaehyun went on, and Taeyong had the sense that he was babbling a bit though he seemed to be trying to be reassuring. “I don’t have anything here, you know. I just didn’t expect….” 

Taeyong glanced up at him through his fingers. “‘Have anything?’”

“Like, uh,” Jaehyun’s blush deepened. “Lube? Or condoms, or anything. Which we’d need… right?” 

“Oh, right.” Taeyong straightened in what he hoped was a dignified manner. He wasn’t going to admit that he hadn’t been thinking of such practical concerns at all, and frankly if things had gotten started he probably would have gone ahead without them. But this wasn’t the worst rejection, he decided, even if it did make him worry that he was the only one really thinking about sex at all. He did have both lube and condoms in his own room, and while the condoms had been there ever since an awkward conversation with his dad the previous year, he had bought the lube on his own, and even used it himself a few times, at first just to see if he liked it, and then because he found that he did. 

“I really do want to though,” Jaehyun said, though Taeyong thought he sounded uncertain. “I could go buy stuff, if you want.” 

“No, it’s fine,” Taeyong said, feeling that the moment had very much passed. If there had even been a moment in the first place. “Really.” 

“Do you still want to stay over then?” Jaehyun asked tentatively. 

Taeyong hesitated, thinking that now spending a whole night with Jaehyun might be painfully awkward. But declining the invitation would make it seem like all he was interested in was sex, which wasn’t true, and definitely wasn’t what he wanted Jaehyun to think. “Yeah, of course,” he said, and smiled valiantly. 

The awkwardness still hadn’t quite worn off by the time Mr. Park called them down for dinner. At least this provided a distraction, but Taeyong felt painfully conscious of Jaehyun, even beyond the usual awareness he felt whenever they were around each other. At least, he reasoned with himself, he’d said something; the idea was out there now, between them. Sure, it had been mortifying, and it didn’t feel like they were any closer to actually having sex than they had been before. But apart from the embarrassment it didn’t feel like he had ruined anything. Nothing had fallen apart, at least. 

After dinner Taeyong and Jaehyun washed the dishes, and then they watched a movie in the living room. Mr. Park sat in an armchair with a book that he seemed mostly absorbed in despite the frequent explosions on the screen. Taeyong sat next to Jaehyun on the couch with his feet tucked up and was mostly absorbed in the heat of Jaehyun’s arm against his own, despite the frequent explosions on the screen. He had lost track of why things kept blowing up. 

Mr. Park went up to bed before the movie ended, and by the time the credits started rolling Taeyong was already halfway into Jaehyun’s lap, kissing him, a little frantic. Taeyong had worried that the awkwardness would bleed into this too, but Jaehyun’s hands on his body felt the same as they always did, warm and eager. Taeyong wanted more, so badly his fingertips were tingling. Saying something again felt impossible. He didn’t want to see Jaehyun look at him with that baffled expression again, like it had never crossed his mind to want so much, or to want it from Taeyong. But now that their hands were on each other it was simply impossible to believe that Jaehyun would touch him like this if he didn’t want at least something. There was a lot that could be done that Jaehyun hadn’t said no to, that didn’t require condoms or lube, that wasn’t really sex and therefore hopefully wouldn’t require any talking at all. Taeyong shifted out of Jaehyun’s lap and lowered himself down to the floor in front of him, put his hands on Jaehyun’s knees and looked up. 

Jaehyun stared down at him for a minute, his mouth slightly open. Taeyong had been worried that Jaehyun would be shocked again, or repulsed, or just too embarrassed to react at all. But he didn’t look like he was any of those things, only slightly cautious, and very aroused, and this seemed like the best reaction Taeyong could have hoped for. 

“Really?” Jaehyun whispered, after a moment. 

Taeyong nodded, and Jaehyun opened his legs. Taeyong could see that he was hard and was almost embarrassed at the relief that rushed through him at the sight. He leaned forward, pulling down the waistband of Jaehyun’s pants and boxers at once, before he might lose his nerve. He could hear Jaehyun breathing very fast above him and then, as he wrapped his fingers around his cock and slid his tongue cautiously over the head, he heard Jaehyun’s breathing catch and stop. Taeyong licked him again, then closed his lips around him. Jaehyun was hot in his mouth and seemed to swell against his tongue. The taste was different than any of the rest of Jaehyun’s skin that he had tasted before, saltier, more immediate. Jaehyun started breathing again, shakily, and then he sucked in a sharp hiss. “Ah, watch your teeth.”

“Sorry,” Taeyong said, or tried to say; Jaehyun was still in his mouth. 

Jaehyun laughed quietly, breathlessly. “It’s okay.” He ran his hand through Taeyong’s hair, pushing it off his forehead. “It feels so good.” 

Taeyong wrapped his hand around the base of Jaehyun’s cock and tried to take more of him. He gagged, but it wasn’t that bad, and Jaehyun cursed and hissed again in a different way than before. The salty taste grew sharper, suddenly, and he felt dizzy and elated. He bobbed his head a few times, and then he choked again, but he breathed through his nose and didn’t pull away. Jaehyun shuddered and his fingers tightened in his hair. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he whispered. He sounded surprised, amazed. It had not been very long. Taeyong hoped this meant that what he was doing with his mouth was working. “Taeyong, wait, I’m really—”

Jaehyun’s hand in Taeyong’s hair seemed to be trying to push him away, but Taeyong grabbed his wrist and held it tightly to stop him, and then his mouth was flooded with come. He forgot he’d meant to suck Jaehyun off properly, which he was pretty sure meant swallowing, and pulled back to see his face instead. Jaehyun’s head was tipped back against the couch, his throat long and pale above his chest which rose and fell in an unsteady rhythm. His free hand was a tight fist pressed into the couch cushion. Taeyong stared. He was vaguely aware that there was come on his cheek, and surprised by how little this bothered him. Jaehyun’s thighs were shaking and then he groaned and sank against the couch. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun said, looking down, and then he smiled weakly and leaned forward, wiping Taeyong’s face with his sleeve. He ran his fingers over Taeyong’s cheek next, following the path he’d wiped, but gentler. He pushed his thumb over Taeyong’s cheek bone, right below his eye, still smiling as he leaned closer and kissed him. Taeyong could still taste Jaehyun’s pleasure on his tongue and knew that Jaehyun must be able to taste it too. Jaehyun slid off the couch, onto his knees with Taeyong and wrapped his arms around him almost too tightly and kissed him like he’d never stop. Taeyong felt undone, as though he was the one coming down from an orgasm. He felt like melting. He wasn’t sure Jaehyun had ever kissed him quite like this. All his doubts and worries were gone. 

Jaehyun pushed him back until he was lying on the floor, the rug scratchy under him, and then he lifted Taeyong’s shirt and kissed down his stomach. Taeyong knew what was coming but it was still better than he’d ever imagined when Jaehyun pulled down his pants and ran his tongue over his own aching length. Taeyong was so hot he thought he might ignite and burn away into nothing. He had to assume Jaehyun’s technique was probably clumsy, or at least unpracticed, but it felt so good he could barely fathom what an actually skilled blowjob could possibly be like. Jaehyun’s mouth seemed wetter than any mouth had a right to be. He didn’t choke, and he did more with his hands than Taeyong had, touching his hips and thighs and then his balls and then farther back, which made Taeyong gasp. He wasn’t so surprised at the sensation as he was at the knowledge that Jaehyun wanted to touch him there, that this had perhaps crossed Jaehyun’s mind after all. Taeyong lifted his head to look at him, and Jaehyun raised his eyes too, at the same moment, and the orgasm came over him so quickly he couldn’t warn Jaehyun like he’d meant to. He couldn’t even hold back a moan, which slipped out as he dropped his head back and arched up off the floor, the sound shocking him nearly as much as the sudden wave of pleasure, the sensation of coming into Jaehyun’s mouth. He clapped a hand over his own mouth and heard himself whimper against it, making sounds that should have been mortifying but it seemed like in this haze of sensation embarrassment was simply not possible. 

A moment later, the embarrassment rushed back, along with the worry that Mr. Park had heard him, and would know exactly what they were doing on his living room floor. But there were no noises coming from upstairs and as Jaehyun crawled back over him and started kissing his neck his worries faded again. Taeyong’s skin felt more sensitive than usual, and he shivered as Jaehyun mouthed lazily at the skin under his jaw. 

“Cold?” Jaehyun lifted his head to look down at him. 

Jaehyun was flushed and his eyes seemed very bright and it took Taeyong a moment to find his voice. “No,” he managed. He couldn’t imagine ever being cold again. 

“Was that okay?” 

“Yes,” Taeyong breathed. Jaehyun looked a little worried, which Taeyong found cuter than he thought he should have. “It was really good,” he said, and wanted to laugh at how quickly the worry on Jaehyun’s face was replaced by a grin. Jaehyun leaned down to kiss him again but Taeyong said, “Can we go upstairs? The floor….” 

“Oh,” Jaehyun sat up. “Shit, sorry.” He scrambled up and pulled Taeyong up after him, steadying him as he pulled his pants back up and tucked himself away. Jaehyun looked vaguely regretful, but then he turned and led the way quietly upstairs. 

Jaehyun let Taeyong shower first, and Taeyong was too grateful to argue. The hot water was exquisite on his muscles, which had felt oddly shivery and tight ever since Jaehyun had first taken him into his mouth. When he returned to Jaehyun’s room in a pair of his too-big sweats and a long-sleeved shirt, he felt nearly boneless, like there was nothing to him except his very warm and slightly damp skin. He wasn’t sure a bed had ever felt more comfortable than Jaehyun’s did as he slid under the covers.

He woke up when Jaehyun returned from his own shower, surprised that he had fallen asleep so quickly–Jaehyun couldn’t have been gone for more than ten minutes. He rolled over to make room, but Jaehyun only pulled him close again. He could feel Jaehyun’s breath on the back of his neck and the entire firm length of his body pressed behind him, the rise and fall of his chest against his shoulder blades, the soft swell of his cock against his ass. Their ankles tangled together. Taeyong didn’t think he’d be able to sleep like this, with so many places of contact, even though Jaehyun was relaxed and there was no urgency or hint of arousal in the way he held him. But he barely managed to consider this worry before his consciousness slipped pleasantly away again, and he slept. 

~~~~~

“Jaehyun. Hey, Jaehyun! Ow, wake—”

Jaehyun’s eyes flew open and he had no idea where he was. It was dark. Too dark, and too quiet. All the familiar patterns from the streetlights on the wall of his bedroom were gone. There was no dull rush of traffic outside, no distant honks or sirens, no shouts and laughter spilling out from the restaurant on the corner. There was something warm and solid in Jaehyun’s arms, against his chest. A person. Was it—? But no, he was smaller and softer, and he smelled different, and anyway Jaehyun had never held him like this. Though in the dream he’d been having, he had been there…. What had happened in the dream? And why had he needed to wake up? 

“Jaehyun!” 

There was a sharp jab in Jaehyun’s stomach, and he recoiled and struggled to sit up, clutching his ribs and shaking. “What?” he gasped. 

“Sorry!” Taeyong sat up too, holding his own ribs. He looked scared. “You wouldn’t wake up. You were holding me so tight, I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“What?” Jaehyun said again. Nothing was making sense. He had just been in his bedroom at home, he was sure of it. 

“I think you were having a nightmare,” Taeyong said. He looked strangely like he was about to cry, which Jaehyun couldn’t understand. 

“Oh,” Jaehyun said. “I… don’t remember.” He closed his eyes tightly, trying to return to the dream, but every time he felt close it seemed to wriggle away, out of reach of his waking thoughts, beyond comprehension. “I don’t know what I dreamed.” 

They sat there for a long time in the too dark room, until Jaehyun realized dazedly that it was not quite so dark anymore, and when he looked at the window he saw that the sky was lightening, ever so slightly, before a slow chilly dawn. 

“You should go back to sleep,” he said. 

“So should you,” said Taeyong. Jaehyun had not been looking at Taeyong, he had not been looking at anything, his vision turned inward as he tried to piece together the dream, but he had the sense that Taeyong had been watching him the entire time. 

“Sorry,” Jaehyun said. 

“It’s fine,” Taeyong said. “Do you….” Taeyong swallowed, then leaned forward and placed his hand over Jaehyun’s on the mattress. “What should I do?” 

Jaehyun looked at him. Taeyong’s eyes were wide and worried in the pale light and it was almost too much take, being looked at like that. He felt as though he could see every thought running through Taeyong’s mind and wished he could understand his own thoughts so well. 

“I don’t know,” Jaehyun said slowly. “I haven’t had a nightmare like that in a while. Back after it first happened I had them, but I remembered those.” Jaehyun fixed his eyes on the back of Taeyong’s hand where it curved over his own, the protruding knuckles, the long fingers and bitten nails. “The normal dreams were worse, though. The ones that were good, where he was back and everything was normal. And then I’d wake up.”

Taeyong shifted suddenly, as though he meant to move closer but stopped himself. Jaehyun looked up. Taeyong’s eyes were wet. “Don’t cry,” Jaehyun said, surprised. “Why are you crying?” 

Taeyong blinked quickly, which shook a few tears down his face. “You’re crying.” 

“No I’m—” Jaehyun touched his cheeks and found them wet too. “Oh.” He wiped his face. “Did I hurt you?” 

Taeyong hesitated. “No,” he said, “No, I’m fine. Sorry for elbowing you. I wasn’t sure if it was one of those things like with sleepwalkers where you’re not supposed to wake them up, but I couldn’t just let you…. You were making these sounds. I thought waking you up would be better than letting you stay in a dream like that.” He was speaking fast. “But maybe that wasn’t right—” 

“I’m glad you were here,” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong abruptly stopped talking. “I’m glad you’re here.” 

“Oh,” Taeyong whispered. “Me too.” 

They were quiet again. “I guess it’s still really early,” Jaehyun said after a while. 

“Yeah,” said Taeyong. “Do you think you can sleep more? Or we can do something else if you don’t want to sleep. We could make breakfast. Or go for a walk, or…. Over the summer, sometimes I’d go to the river, to the tree, really early before anyone else was up. I mean it was brighter then, since the sun would rise earlier, and warmer, obviously, but—”

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun. “Let’s go.” 

They dressed quietly and slipped through the house. Jaehyun left his uncle a note in the kitchen, and then they bundled up and went out the front door into a dim and silent dawn. The sky was pale gray in a way that might have been because it was cloudy, and might have been only because the sun wasn’t yet strong enough at the brink of spring to muster up a blazing sunrise. They climbed onto their bikes and started down the street, leaving no shadows in the flat light. 

Jaehyun had not been to the tree since the day before he went home for Christmas, the day he’d kissed Taeyong for the first time. The snow was gone now but the ground which had been muddy just days before had frozen again and was firm under their bike wheels. The river gurgled quietly around large broken swaths of ice. By the time they reached the tree Jaehyun was sweating under his coat though it was cold enough to see his breath rising into the air. 

Taeyong clambered off his bike first, leaned it carefully on its kickstand beside the trunk. Jaehyun felt the strange urge to hug him just from watching this careful ritual, which he remembered from the summer. And then he realized that now he could. He hopped off his own bike, which tilted over immediately onto the cold ground, and wrapped his arms around Taeyong, pulling him back against him. Taeyong let out a little grunt of air, but he didn’t flinch or stiffen; instead he leaned back and put his arms over Jaehyun’s where they crossed his chest. This more than even the tears made Jaehyun realize how worried Taeyong had been for him. He fought the urge to apologize again, thinking this would only be burdensome for them both, but then he couldn’t think of anything else to say. He nestled his face down against Taeyong’s warm neck. 

After a while they broke apart, both pulling away at the same time, it seemed to Jaehyun, though still neither of them had spoken. Taeyong turned to the tree, and hesitated for only a moment before he started scrambling up. Jaehyun followed. It was harder to climb in the cold and his fingertips were aching by the time he made it up to the branch and squeezed in behind Taeyong, against the trunk. As soon as Jaehyun was balanced he pulled Taeyong back to him again. He shoved his hands into Taeyong’s pockets and tucked his face into Taeyong’s scarf. 

“It’s fucking cold,” Jaehyun said, muffled. 

Taeyong laughed. “Think of how I feel. I’m exposed to the elements here, for your sake.”

“I’m eternally grateful,” Jaehyun said. The feeling was starting to return to his hands, and when Taeyong slipped his own hands into his pockets too their fingers warmed quickly against each other. 

Jaehyun peeked out from Taeyong’s scarf at the brightening morning. There were birds chirping, even in the cold, and the air didn’t smell the way it had when he’d been here last. Then it had only smelled cold, of fresh snow. Now there was an earthy, mineral smell from the melted stretches of river and the barely-thawing ground. Spring felt like a certainty, even in the chilly morning. 

“This is where I first saw you,” Taeyong said. He’d leaned his head back against Jaehyun’s shoulder and his voice was low, right next to his ear. 

“How could I forget,” said Jaehyun. 

“You made a terrible first impression,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun snorted. “ I made a bad impression? You were pretty much an asshole.” 

Taeyong elbowed him in the stomach, though there was no strength behind it now. “I didn’t like being surprised. And you were definitely a surprise.” 

“So were you,” said Jaehyun, and he could see that day so clearly, the hazy sun and the heat and the lush green of everything. “I thought you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.” 

Taeyong jolted a little in his arms. “Don’t say things like that,” he said. 

“I’m serious,” said Jaehyun. “Your eyes were closed, I thought you were asleep—”

“I was pretending to be asleep, hoping you’d just go away.” 

“—and you looked so graceful, or something. Inhuman. And then you opened your eyes and were kind of rude. But I’ll never forget seeing you that day. How strange it made me feel.” 

Taeyong pulled his legs closer to his chest. After a moment he let out a long exhale. “Strange,” he repeated quietly, as though in agreement. He shifted, and Jaehyun tightened his arms around him. “I thought you were cute,” he said eventually, mumbling. 

“You really have a way with words,” said Jaehyun, but he couldn’t hold back his smile. He kissed Taeyong lightly on the neck. 

“You seemed so ridiculous,” Taeyong said, not unkindly, almost with a tone of wonder. “I couldn’t imagine ever being so bold, so confident.”

“If it makes you feel better, I was faking it,” Jaehyun said. “Honestly, that day when I met you was the first day since moving here that I’d even set foot outside. I’d spent like three straight days in bed. And then I met you and it felt good to meet you, to meet someone and feel a little more like my old self, and I really hoped all the… spending days in bed and stuff was over. But it wasn’t, obviously. I should’ve known better.” 

“How would you have known better?” Taeyong said gently. “How could anyone know how something like that will feel until they feel it?” 

Jaehyun’s throat felt suddenly too tight to speak, so he kissed Taeyong’s neck again instead, left his lips against his skin for a long time. When he could swallow again he said, still against Taeyong’s warm neck, “I really like you, Taeyong.” Except the word he’d thought of saying, for a dizzying second, hadn’t been like . 

“I really like you too,” Taeyong said. He turned his head and nosed at Jaehyun’s cheek until he lifted his face and let Taeyong find his lips. 

Kissing Taeyong felt so incredible Jaehyun wanted to keep doing it, but unfortunately because it felt so incredible it quickly became apparent that he wasn’t going to be able to restrain himself if they kept going. He tried to break the kiss, which took a few attempts, because he kept leaning back in to taste Taeyong’s lips again. Finally he turned his face away and looked out at the river, trying to catch his breath. Taeyong shifted against him.

“Taeyong, don’t,” Jaehyun groaned. Taeyong laughed quietly, but stilled. They sat there long enough for the heat in Jaehyun’s body to dissipate a little. “Thanks for coming out here,” Jaehyun said, and hoped Taeyong would understand that he was really thanking him for a lot more than that. 

“It’s nice in the morning, right?” Taeyong said, and Jaehyun hummed in agreement. “I’m kind of freezing though,” he added. 

Jaehyun laughed. “Is that your way of saying we should go back?” 

“Only if you want,” Taeyong said seriously. “If you’re not ready yet we can stay.”

Jaehyun felt his smile soften. “I’m fine,” he said. And he really felt that this was true, for the moment. “I think I could sleep for a few more hours now, honestly.”

“Lucky,” grumbled Taeyong. “I need to go to the store today.” 

Jaehyun leaned forward to try to see his face. “You’re working today?” 

“Is it really ‘work’ if your labor is being exploited by your family who aren’t even paying you minimum wage?” Taeyong mused. 

“Why didn’t you say so? You should have gone back to sleep, why did you come out here?” 

Taeyong gave him a frank look that made Jaehyun’s face grow suddenly hot. 

“I would have been fine,” Jaehyun protested weakly. “You should have slept.”

Taeyong just smiled and slipped out of Jaehyun’s lap, scrambling down the trunk and dropping the last few feet to the ground. Jaehyun hesitated. He remembered sitting in this exact same spot, watching Taeyong bike away from him. But now Taeyong turned and looked up at him expectantly, waiting. Jaehyun pressed his lips together to try to keep the fluttering thing in his chest at bay, and heaved himself out of the tree to land beside Taeyong. They biked back towards town together with the pale sun burning away the clouds behind them. 

~~

Jaehyun was disappointed to discover that almost as soon as he and Taeyong went their separate ways, and he entered his house alone with his lips still not quite dry from the forceful kiss Taeyong had left him with, the nightmare returned to the forefront of his mind. It wasn’t a memory–he still hadn’t managed to remember anything from the dream. But a deep uneasiness lingered, and without any scene that he could think of, without any ability to rationalize the dream and talk himself out of being scared of it, it was hard to dismiss the sense of dread. So he ended up not going back to sleep, after all.

He would have asked his uncle if there was anything to help with around the house, but Changmin had already left for the library by the time he got home. Jaehyun debated going to the library himself; there would surely be something distracting to do there. But before he could make up his mind, his phone rang. Yuta’s name flashed across the screen and Jaehyun nearly dropped his phone in his eagerness to answer it–whatever Yuta had to say, it would certainly be better than his own thoughts. 

“Hey,” Jaehyun said. 

“You can sing, right?” 

“Um.” Jaehyun blinked. “What?” 

“Doyoung said you sing,” Yuta said. 

“I don’t sing. How would Doyoung know if I sing?” Jaehyun didn’t even know where to start. But he did notice, with distant relief, that the dream seemed less important again, farther off. 

Yuta was speaking again, but his voice was muffled now, as though he’d turned away from the phone. “He says he doesn’t sing.” Another voice answered him. Jaehyun couldn’t make out what it said but he figured it must be Doyoung. He turned up the volume on his phone and frowned suspiciously at the wall. 

A moment later Yuta’s voice came through clearly again. “He said Taeyong said that you can sing.”

“Taeyong’s never heard me sing,” Jaehyun said. He was trying desperately to think back through all their interactions to be sure this was the case. But he was certain he would have remembered singing in front of Taeyong, or anybody else for that matter. At most, he might have absentmindedly hummed something in front of him before. Everyone did that. It certainly didn’t count as singing. 

There was more muffled speaking through the phone, and then Yuta said, as though he was reciting exactly what Doyoung had just told him, “Over the summer Taeyong said you told him you sang before. At a talent show or something?” 

Jaehyun said nothing as the memory of that day came back to him. The main thing he’d remembered about it was Taeyong getting pissed at him and storming off. He’d completely forgotten that he’d told him about that song. And he couldn’t for the life of him imagine why it was coming up now. 

“That was one time,” Jaehyun said. “I don’t know how he even remembered that.” 

“Doyoung remembers everything,” Yuta said, sounding proud. 

Jaehyun rolled his eyes. “Doyoung wasn’t even there. He has no idea what he’s talking about. I don’t sing. I used to play the piano, but I don’t do that anymore either.”

“Piano!” Yuta exclaimed, and then again, muffled, “He plays piano!” 

“What the hell is going on?” Jaehyun said. “Why did you call me about this?” 

“I’m starting a band,” Yuta said. 

“A… what?” 

“A band,” Yuta said, louder.

“I heard you,” Jaehyun said. He had a suspicion now of where this might be going and he wasn’t sure he liked it. 

“I want you to join,” Yuta said, confirming his suspicions. “I didn’t even know you played piano, but that’s even better. You can be our keyboardist, and you can sing too.” 

“I don’t want to be in a band,” Jaehyun said.

“You didn’t even think about it!” 

“I don’t sing. That was seriously just one random time,” Jaehyun insisted.

“I can sing. You won’t have to do all the singing. But it’s great to have more than one singer. You can sing backup.” 

“Is anyone else in this band? Is it even real?” 

“I’m in the band. And you know Mark from the basketball team, that sophomore? He plays the drums, and he’s in. And then you. So yes, it is real. Three people is all you need, really. Especially when one plays the piano and sings.” 

“Don’t you have track practice or something?” 

“Oh, no,” Yuta said dismissively. “I’m not running track this season. I already got the basketball scholarship so now that the season’s over I’m just taking it easy till we graduate.” 

“Not that easy,” muttered Jaehyun. “You’re starting a fucking band.” 

“Well, otherwise I’d be bored.” Jaehyun thought he heard an indignant shout from Doyoung in the background. “Come on,” said Yuta. “It’s going to be fun. I have a whole setup in the basement already, you only need to show up.” 

Jaehyun hesitated. He had wanted a distraction, and this certainly sounded like it would provide one. But he had not missed playing piano this past year, had barely even thought of it. And singing he hadn’t done enough of to think about at all. When he did think about it, like on that long-ago afternoon with Taeyong in the tree, he ended up not really thinking about the music, and got lost remembering Haru instead, or remembering how much easier his life had felt back then, how much more effortless everything had been. 

He had not quite finished thinking all of this through when he heard himself saying, “Fine, I’ll show up. But I’m not promising anything.” He blinked, surprised at himself, not sure how his train of thought had led him to agree, when he had expected it would lead him in the complete opposite direction. 

“He said yes,” Yuta was shouting to Doyoung. “We’re starting Monday, after school at my house.”

“Monday?” Jaehyun asked, about to point out that this was the worst day of the week and he could barely get through a school day let alone start an activity he had real misgivings about. But Yuta had already hung up in another rush of chatter to Doyoung. 

~~

Jaehyun had neglected to mention the band to Taeyong, very much on purpose, but he was not particularly surprised to see Taeyong waiting at Yuta’s car on Monday after school. Jaehyun considered turning around and hiding in the school until they all left, then claiming he’d gotten detention. But then he heard Yuta shout his name excitedly from behind him, and knew it was too late. 

Yuta was accompanied by Doyoung and a younger kid who Yuta introduced as Mark. Jaehyun thought he recognized him but it had never occurred to him that he was one of his basketball teammates, considering the kid wasn’t even as tall as he was. 

“Ready?” Yuta said. Mark was the only one who answered, but he sounded thrilled enough that Yuta didn’t seem to notice that Jaehyun hadn’t joined in.

They piled into the car, Doyoung in the passenger seat and the other three in the back. When Mark made to climb into the middle Jaehyun stopped him. Mark looked up, surprised, and said quickly, “Oh, I don’t mind sitting in the middle.” 

Jaehyun just shook his head and nudged him aside, sliding in past him and squeezing in next to Taeyong, who gave him an amused look. Mark climbed in after, looking a little confused, but thanking him cheerfully. 

Yuta looked in the rearview mirror at Mark. “They’re dating,” he said. “And apparently Jaehyun has a possessive streak.”

“That wasn’t possessive,” Jaehyun said with dignity. “I just wanted to sit next to him.” Which he immediately regretted, as Doyoung let out a dramatic aww . Mark was apologizing profusely and Jaehyun wasn’t sure if he or Mark was more embarrassed. Taeyong, meanwhile, had turned his face toward the window, but his shoulders were shaking with restrained laughter. “Just drive,” Jaehyun said, but the feeling of Taeyong trembling with amusement against his arm made it hard to keep feeling annoyed. 

Yuta had not been lying about having “a whole setup” in his enormous basement. There was a whole other room down there, it turned out, unfinished, which at least explained why it hadn’t previously been open for all his parties. It seemed to so far just have been used for storage, but now everything was stacked haphazardly against the walls and the cement floor was covered instead with an entire drum set, a decent looking keyboard, mics and amps and a guitar, and more cables and wires than Jaehyun thought could possibly be necessary. It didn’t seem like their not-yet-band really deserved so much professional equipment. Jaehyun was worried this would make it harder for him to back out, if Yuta had spent a small fortune on it already. 

Mark was already saying out loud all the things Jaehyun was wondering. “This is incredible, man,” he said, trailing his fingers over the edge of one of the larger drums. Jaehyun wondered if he should learn the names of all this stuff if he was going to be in a band now. 

“Those were my dad’s,” Yuta said. “A lot of this stuff was.” He held up the guitar, which was red and black and still looked new. “He played like six different instruments when he was a kid, and then started a band with his roommates in college. They sort of tried to make it, after they graduated, recorded some demos and played a bunch of gigs and stuff. But then he met my mom and had me instead.” Yuta grinned as if derailing his father’s music career was his own greatest accomplishment. “Anyway, now I’m carrying on his legacy.” 

“You don’t play six instruments though,” Jaehyun pointed out. “Do you play any instruments? I thought you spent all your time playing sports.” 

“I’m a man of many talents,” Yuta said breezily. “Go test out the keyboard.”

Jaehyun hesitated, more out of annoyance at being bossed around. In truth, he was curious what it would feel like to play again. Would it bring back too many memories? Or would it feel like nothing, just another sign he was really moving on? He glanced at Taeyong, almost a reflex, who had moved a couple boxes off an old plastic table in the corner and was sitting on it with Doyoung. Taeyong smiled at him. Jaehyun smiled back until he noticed both Mark and Yuta staring at him. He tried not to blush and walked over to switch on the keyboard. The keys felt strange under his fingers, but he was relieved to find that the strangeness had nothing to do with his memories: the keys were simply lighter compared to the carefully calibrated weight he was used to in a real piano. The keyboard didn’t have the full number of keys either, or pedals, but he found this made him feel a little relieved. He certainly wouldn’t be called on to suddenly demonstrate his skill by performing a sonata on something like this. All his piano lessons growing up had been classical, and when he’d gotten older he’d sometimes covered songs he liked too, or made things up. But he doubted anything very elaborate would be necessary for whatever Yuta had in mind here in his basement. 

As it turned out, he was more right than he even expected. The afternoon mostly consisted of messing around with the instruments and equipment. This was enough to be able to tell that Mark was in fact extremely good at the drums. Yuta only knew basic guitar, though once it was plugged into the amp Jaehyun had to admit it sounded pretty legit even when he only played a few chords, and he definitely looked the part. More surprisingly, Yuta had a good voice, the rawness in his tone perfectly suited to being the frontman of a rock band. Jaehyun even enjoyed fooling around on the keyboard more than he thought he would. It felt good, after all, to get back to something he had practiced and genuinely enjoyed for years. Though some of the pleasant feelings might just been the sensation of Taeyong’s eyes on him when he played. He had expected that being watched would be mortifying, but that was because he’d been worried that he might have forgotten everything he’d ever learned, or, worse, that he would have an emotional breakdown as soon as his fingers touched the keys. In reality, neither of these fears came true. Taeyong stared at him with intense attention the entire time, and it didn’t feel bad at all. Jaehyun had never been prone to stage fright, after all; it was good to remember how nice it felt to be looked at. 

Jaehyun had meant to refuse to sing at all costs. Singing wasn’t like piano, which he at least knew he was good at and had taken real lessons on for years. But as the afternoon wore away and he found himself actually having a good time, he forgot himself and started humming along with Yuta more and more, sometimes slipping into harmony. At one point when Yuta and Mark had lapsed into a conversation Jaehyun wasn’t paying attention to, his fingers started pressing out the familiar sequence of “I Like Me Better,” a song he’d learned ages ago, and he absently started singing along, quietly, just to himself, his eyes down on his fingers. He hit a wrong note and stopped, looking up, only to find that everyone else had stopped talking–some time ago, judging by the way they were staring at him.

“What?” Jaehyun said. 

“ What? ” Yuta said, sounding exasperated. “I can’t believe you said you couldn’t sing!”

“I didn’t say I can’t sing, I said I don’t sing,” Jaehyun said, to cover up his embarrassment, though he could feel his face heating. He’d made the mistake of glancing at Taeyong and the way he was looking at him had changed to something that felt almost indecent in a room full of people. 

“Well you’re definitely going to be singing,” Yuta said. “That was ‘I Like Me Better,’ right? Let’s try it.”

Jaehyun watched as Yuta started searching on his phone and then picking out the chords slowly on the guitar, completely oblivious to–or purposely ignoring–the way Jaehyun opened his mouth to protest. Soon Mark joined in and Jaehyun had to admit the drums filled out Yuta’s chords in a way that started to sound suspiciously like a real song, not just fooling around in a basement. Jaehyun’s fingers found the piece on the piano again, almost against his will. He made some adjustments to fit with the guitar, and then, carefully avoiding looking at Taeyong, he opened his mouth and began to sing.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong, lying in bed late into the morning two weeks later, decided that Yuta suddenly forming a band and semi-forcing Jaehyun to be part of it was both the best and worst thing that had ever happened. It was the best thing because Taeyong totally had a thing for guys in bands. This wasn’t something he’d never known about himself but he discovered it during the very first band practice in Yuta’s basement, as soon as Jaehyun touched the keyboard and began to play, standing and a little slouched with his long fingers stretching gracefully over the keys. (Another discovery in that moment: he wanted to put Jaehyun’s fingers in his mouth.) It felt almost dangerous to watch him, as though whatever self control he had–and in fact had always prided himself on–was no match for this power that flowed out of Jaehyun through the keys. As though he might fall apart from how badly he wanted him. Then he started to sing, and Taeyong almost did fall apart, right there on the table where he sat next to Doyoung. He’d heard Jaehyun sing before, but only under his breath. The full effect of his voice when he finally gave in to Yuta’s relentless blend of nagging and flattery made Taeyong’s entire body ache, not entirely pleasantly. He wanted to kiss Jaehyun while he sang, wanted his low smooth voice to flow straight into his mouth and down his throat and fill him up. He squeezed his legs together where he sat on the plastic table and considered, a little annoyed and a lot aroused, that his frustration at the fact that he and Jaehyun still hadn’t had sex was starting to manifest in especially bizarre and creative fantasies.

Jaehyun joining a band was the worst thing because he suddenly had an activity that was not making out with Taeyong that took up a lot of his time. Yuta had found out that, as part of the seniors’ end-of-year trip, there would be a showcase where students could sign up to perform. The obstacle of Mark not being a senior and therefore not allowed to join the trip was a tough blow to Yuta’s (perhaps overly optimistic) vision of their incredible debut performance, until he managed to convince the teacher in charge of the planning committee to let Mark come for just the last night of the trip, so he could perform. Yuta claimed the teacher was easy to convince due to his upcoming retirement and the apathy that accompanied this stage in his career, but Taeyong suspected it didn’t hurt that Yuta’s family was wealthy and well-known in town. Regardless, once Yuta signed them up for the showcase he insisted on meeting in his basement every day after school. Taeyong and Doyoung usually joined too, when Taeyong didn’t have to work, and it wasn’t a bad way to pass the afternoons as winter faded, finally, definitively, into mild spring. But Taeyong itched to be alone with Jaehyun for longer stretches of time than they had, for enough time to open the possibility again of doing more than they had already done.  

He hadn’t worked up the nerve to mention sex to Jaehyun again since the last time. He wanted Jaehyun to bring it up himself, now that he knew–he had to know by now–that Taeyong was ready. It wasn’t only that Taeyong didn’t want to seem desperate, though that was part of it. It was that he didn’t want Jaehyun to go along with it only because he could tell how desperate Taeyong was. Taeyong wanted Jaehyun to be just as desperate himself. He was willing to wait until he was, he told himself again and again. The new band situation was testing his patience, it was true. But there were plenty of things to keep him satisfied in the meantime. Even with all the band practice, they ended up tangled together in Jaehyun’s bed often enough, getting better and better at using their hands and mouths to bring pleasure out of each other. The learning curve was exponential. So it wasn’t that Taeyong wasn’t getting anything, it was simply that it wasn’t enough. Even as he came down from an orgasm with his release still hot on his stomach or being wiped away from Jaehyun’s lips, all he could think about was how it would feel to have Jaehyun enter him, right then, with his body still shaky and every nerve alight. He almost said so a million times. He almost begged. But he remembered Jaehyun’s wide eyes the last time he’d said it and held back. 

Now spring break had arrived, and Taeyong was suffering through a rather brutal withdrawal since Jaehyun had gone back home to visit his parents again. The day before he’d left, Taeyong had slept over again. He’d managed to take Jaehyun’s fingers into his mouth just like he’d imagined, and then, with his heart beating so hard he thought he could taste it, metallic and alive in the back of his throat, he pushed Jaehyun’s wet hand down between his legs until there was no doubt about what he wanted him to do with it. And Jaehyun did it, and his eyes as he touched Taeyong more intimately than he’d ever touched him before were so dark and hot, and Taeyong let himself think, hope, maybe . But when Taeyong clenched around his fingers and came, Jaehyun kissed him, very hard, and then scrambled up and pushed his own pants down and stroked himself until he came too, over Taeyong’s still heaving chest. It only took seconds, so fast that Taeyong barely had time to think of asking Jaehyun to do something else. And the sight of Jaehyun kneeling over him and shuddering, his face flushed and almost pained, was still sustaining him now, days later, while Jaehyun was miles away. He would take what he could get. 

Taeyong shook his head to clear the image away, refocusing on the ceiling of his bedroom, and realized that his hand had been wandering along with his thoughts. Tame, at first, over his stomach, in absentminded repetitive patterns, though the more he thought about Jaehyun the more his skin remembered the sensation of his touch and started to warm under the poor substitute of his own fingertips. Then his hand wandered up to his chest, and his nipples remembered the exquisite wet pressure of Jaehyun’s lips and tongue and teeth which he could not replicate no matter how detailed his memories were. He stared at the ceiling, aroused and frustrated, fully hard though he hadn’t let his hands wander yet below his hips. 

He did now, feeling slightly defeated; he had the unpleasant suspicion that touching himself might only make things worse. He palmed himself over his shorts and bit his lip hard to stay quiet. He and Jaehyun spent their time almost exclusively at Jaehyun’s uncle’s house, due mostly to the unpredictable comings and goings of Taeyong’s parents and sister, whose bedroom neighbored his; Jaehyun’s house was much more likely to be empty and his uncle’s room was not so close. He’d always managed to stay quiet enough when he touched himself, had never really believed that any of the sounds people made in porn could possibly have any resemblance to real life because the need to stay silent had always far outweighed the pleasure he brought himself. But with Jaehyun that wasn’t always the case, partly because of how good it felt and partly because he had noticed how much it seemed to excite Jaehyun when he moaned. Suddenly there was a very eager audience and staying silent no longer seemed so important. Now he had to remind himself again to be quiet and was surprised that it wasn’t as easy as it always had been before. 

He had nothing to do all day and had planned, at the first stirrings of desire, to take his time. But how that he’d started touching himself it was very hard to hold back. He pushed his hand under his shorts, stroked himself once. A vague image of Jaehyun leaning over him floated through his mind and he had to stop, legs shaking, worried he might come too soon. And yet even through the tremor of pleasure there was still an edge of frustration–that Jaehyun wasn’t here, that he had not yet had all of him, which he was convinced would have made it easier to endure his absence, would have made it easier to endure almost anything. 

This same edge of frustration stopped Taeyong from reaching for his phone, to text Jaehyun or call him or maybe just scroll through the pictures of him, which Taeyong had been stubbornly accumulating over the recent weeks, despite his own eye-rolling reluctance to have Jaehyun take any pictures of him in return. Jaehyun, for his part, was at worst unconcerned about being photographed, and often was downright pleased–in most of the pictures he was grinning, dimples on full display, beautiful and slightly obnoxious in a way that Taeyong only pretended to be annoyed by, because Jaehyun so obviously found it cute when he scowled. The pictures were mostly very tame, except for one: Jaehyun in his bed, the morning he’d left to visit his parents, shirtless and with the blankets rumpled low around his waist, obviously naked underneath. He’d just woken up, only one eye open, squinting in a sort of sleepy, happy wink up not at the camera but behind and above the lens, at Taeyong’s face. His hand was in his hair, which was a mess, and there was a heavy, unselfconscious arrangement to his limbs that suggested that his taut and stretching muscles had only moments before been completely slack against the wrinkled sheets. Taeyong had looked at that one enough times in the past few days to memorize it, each time amazed that he had it, that he’d been there to capture how Jaehyun looked waking up because he’d been sleeping beside him all night. But now he left his phone where it was on the mattress beside him. Nothing would really be enough anyway, not the photo or Jaehyun’s voice through the phone.

Taeyong squirmed out of his shorts and rolled onto his side, and then, a little hesitantly, onto his knees, turning his face against the mattress. The position felt humiliating and awkward and achingly erotic. He felt very exposed even in his locked and empty room with the shades drawn. He stroked himself slowly, feeling already that he could come at any moment. He thought of Jaehyun kneeling behind him, of his warm hands on his back, on his ass, of how it might feel to have his cock press against him, into him, and he almost did come. He reached and fumbled in his bedside drawer for the small bottle of lube, opened it clumsily with one hand, covered his fingers and reached back, pressing a finger inside of himself instead. He imagined it was Jaehyun’s finger–that, at least, was something he had experienced, though the memory wasn’t nearly as detailed and sharp as he wished. He shifted, arching his back to be able to reach better, the embarrassment fading as his focus on the pleasure increased. 

He turned his head to the other side and jumped, startled–the full length mirror on his closet door threw his reflection back at him. He almost turned away again immediately, but hesitated. He had never seen himself like this. No one had ever seen him like this, he thought, since Jaehyun had not yet seized the opportunity. It was a mortifying sight and also, strangely, not. Taeyong fumbled blindly for his phone behind him, and, without thinking too hard, opened the camera and took a picture. He stared at his phone screen for a moment, the slick fingers of one hand still inside himself. His face was mostly out of the frame of the mirror, but he wasn’t sure he would have been able to look at his face in a picture like this, and he figured that wasn’t exactly the focal point anyway. The rest of his naked body was lit from behind by the light filtering through the window shades, and it gave his outline a blurred appearance. His body itself was only a little brighter than a silhouette, the light catching on details here and there–his shoulderblades, his thighs, the sharp elbow of his arm reaching back–while the rest of him was featureless and dim. Still, it was very clear what he was doing, where his hand was, that he was hard. His face burned but it wasn’t only with embarrassment. He had not really thought very hard before meeting Jaehyun about his own sexual appeal, and since meeting Jaehyun his thoughts about it had been mostly a blend of confidence because he was certain Jaehyun liked him, and doubt because he was not certain Jaehyun’s desire for him ran quite as hot as his own. But looking at this picture he considered for the first time that he might be appealing on a broader and more abstract level that could, shockingly, include even strangers. Simply put, he knew the picture was good.

His shoulders and neck were starting to burn the longer he kept his head lifted in this position, and despite the distraction of the mirror and the picture he was still unbearably hard, leaking onto the sheets below his raised hips. He gritted his teeth, and before he could change his mind he swiped through his phone until the photo appeared in a text with Jaehyun’s name at the top. He didn’t hesitate before pressing send, but then he dropped his phone off the side of the bed, unable to look at it–the possibility of Jaehyun replying immediately was just as embarrassing as the possibility of him not replying at all. He turned his face down into the mattress, and pressed his fingers deeper into himself. His other hand had barely returned to grip his cock and then he was coming, his knees shuddering wider. He could feel himself clenching almost painfully tightly around his own fingers and he thought, almost angrily, about how good he could make Jaehyun feel like this. He did not manage to stay quiet, but he hoped the mattress against his face muffled his moans well enough. 

He did not move for a long time. The orgasm, like all the orgasms he had when he fingered himself, had been strong, pulsing deep inside him, and there was an uncomfortable moment before his muscles relaxed even enough to slip his fingers out. He let his knees slide out until his body dropped onto the mattress. The sheets were unpleasantly wet under his groin and stomach but his annoyance at letting himself mess his bed up like this was only a faint distant irritation. He couldn’t bring himself to lift his face out of the mattress, and then, when his phone buzzed against the floor, he pressed his face even harder into the safe darkness of his sheets and groaned. Now that his arousal had drained out of him his embarrassment returned in full force. He waited as long as possible, but the curiosity and dread overcame him and he stuck his head out over the edge of his bed, unlocked his phone, and squinted at it, his eyes still blurry from being pressed into the dark mattress. There was just one text from Jaehyun: what the fuck.  

The picture was still there, huge and horribly obvious above Jaehyun’s very brief response. Taeyong didn’t know what to say. What could possibly be said, after sending a picture like that, and getting such a lackluster response? He glared at the phone and typed a single question mark with as much passive aggression as he could muster. 

Jaehyun’s response came right away, and as though he’d just been waiting for some reply from Taeyong, now there was an onslaught of texts, one after another: 

what are you doing 

are you trying to kill me

i’m getting a fucking haircut and you just sent that with no warning

i think the guy maybe saw it but he didn’t say anything

i dropped my phone tho so maybe he couldn’t see

it fell facedown THANK GOD

what are you DOING

are you done? 

taeyong 

fuck i wish i was there

i miss you 

you’re so ufkcing hot 

*fucking 

fuck 

Taeyong stared at the screen, his cheeks aching with how widely he’d started smiling, like an absolute idiot. It seemed like Jaehyun had paused to breathe, so Taeyong typed back, I wish you were here too. And then, face very hot, I was thinking about you.

Another succinct fuck appeared on the screen from Jaehyun, then the bubble showing he was typing appeared and disappeared three times before the next messages came through: 

i’m about to get hard…

are we seriously sexting while i’m getting a fucking haircut?

is this sexting?

Taeyong laughed and typed, I think for it to be sexting you’d send me a picture too

Jaehyun’s reply came quickly: did you miss the fact that i’m in public?

There’s a bathroom, isn’t there? Taeyong typed back. 

He stared at his screen, but the bubbles showing Jaehyun was typing didn’t appear. Taeyong shifted nervously, rolled onto his back and held his phone up in front of his face, then rolled onto his stomach again. What had possessed him to say that? He had sent the photo from the privacy of his own bedroom, and even that had felt embarrassing. More than that, he’d sent it totally unprompted. Sure, Taeyong had been pretty sure Jaehyun would like it, and he’d been right (thank god), but that didn’t mean he could just assume Jaehyun would want to take pictures of himself like that at all, let alone in public. Taeyong felt crazy for even asking.

Taeyong let out a miserable groan and started typing a clumsy excuse, claiming he was joking, that he didn’t mean it. He was certain he had made things awkward, again, by being too eager, jumping ahead and making assumptions. His finger was hovering over the send button when a photo appeared on the screen. He was so startled he let out a strangled sound before he could even process that he was looking at– dear god –Jaehyun’s dick. Taeyong deleted everything he’d typed and just stared, his mouth dry. Jaehyun was standing in what was unmistakably a bathroom stall, the photo taken from somewhere around his chest, his stomach exposed where he’d pulled up his shirt. His dick was in his hand, and both it and his fingers were shiny and wet with come. It was ridiculously obscene, a lot more so than the picture Taeyong had sent. He could feel himself getting hard again just looking at it. All his worrying suddenly seemed foolish. He definitely was not capable of corrupting someone who could think to take a picture like this, and then actually send it. He let out a low breath and rocked his hips hopelessly against the mattress as he typed. 

holy shit jaehyun 

Jaehyun’s reply was quick, yeah?

Yeah , Taeyong’s fingers felt weird and clumsy against his screen, the picture drawing his eyes continuously upwards. When are you coming home. 

Jaehyun replied, two days, then added, hang in there lol.

Taeyong groaned and dropped his face into the mattress. His phone buzzed again in his hands and he looked up quickly, then slumped when he saw Jaehyun’s message: sorry but i have to go. i’ll call you later?

Yeah, Taeyong typed, disappointed. The prospect of an entire day with nothing to do suddenly seemed dull and pathetic as he imagined all the things Jaehyun might be doing, all the things that could be done in a city that couldn’t be done in River’s Bend. Have fun. He wondered if the message would look as bitter as he felt. He had no way of knowing, though, because Jaehyun didn’t respond. 

~~

It went without saying that there had been no foresight or plan in Taeyong’s mind when he chose to send that photo to Jaehyun. If he had stopped to think about possible consequences, he surely would only have focused on the potential humiliation, but what actually happened was that suddenly their texts were regularly illustrated with pictures of them both in various stages of undress and arousal. The last two days of spring break were not exactly easier for Taeyong to get through with the addition of these pictures, but at least this was a type of torture he was more than willing to endure. Jaehyun’s pictures, maybe following the tone he’d set with the first one in the bathroom stall, tended to have a rushed, sloppy quality–blurred in a steamed-up mirror after a shower, in an unmade bed with a heap of (probably dirty) laundry clearly visible on the floor beside him. Taeyong looked at the pictures enough to categorize all of these careless details, and they became just as much a part of the appeal as Jaehyun’s body. The photos seemed to reveal something of Jaehyun’s personality in addition to his bare skin, something Taeyong recognized from all the times he’d seen Jaehyun throw his bike onto the ground or sniff a sweatshirt skeptically before deciding it was clean enough to throw on. He found the artlessness endearing. 

For his own part, he took care with his pictures, considering exactly what was shown or not shown, what appeared in the frame or got cropped out, the angles of his body and the arrangement of the things around him. When he took a picture himself after a shower, he made sure the bottles of shampoo and body wash were neatly lined up behind him; when he stood in front of the mirror in his room he checked that the bed was attractively rumpled in the reflection and the floor was clean. He knew Jaehyun wouldn’t care, and probably wouldn’t even notice, if things were out of place, and he didn’t mind at all that Jaehyun didn’t put in the same level of effort with his own photos. He had just discovered a certain kind of enjoyment in taking care with the composition, and he experienced a deep satisfaction when he looked at the pictures of himself and could see that the effort had paid off. Jaehyun wasn’t technically the only one seeing the photos, after all; Taeyong also saw them himself, and he wanted to like what he saw. 

Taeyong had been desperately looking forward to replacing the photos of Jaehyun with the real thing at the end of spring break. But due to an unfortunate but not particularly surprising delay in the bus schedule, Jaehyun didn’t end up getting home until nearly midnight, and with school starting again the next day there was no way to sneak out and go see him. Then Yuta reinstated his demanding band practice schedule with even more fervor now that the senior trip was less than six weeks away. Taeyong did his best to hang out in Yuta’s basement without letting on how horny he was, but after spending just one practice on Monday staring at Jaehyun and seeing, instead of his fully clothed keyboard-playing form, a flickering slideshow of every photo, memory, and fantasy of his naked body, Taeyong gave up and surprised his parents by offering to work at the store every afternoon for the rest of the week. He couldn’t really believe he was avoiding Jaehyun because he was too attracted to him, but that did indeed seem to be what was happening. He suspected that some of his avoidance was also simple disappointment. He hadn’t thought clearly about what would happen when Jaehyun returned from the break, but when everything just went seamlessly back to the same routine, Taeyong realized he’d been expecting that things would be different, that they’d run into each other’s arms as soon as they saw each other again and that this enthusiastic reunion would somehow devolve very quickly and perfectly into mind-blowing sex. Instead, he furtively scrolled through the photos while things were slow at work and in bed before he fell asleep and sometimes even in class, and the warmth that always rose to his skin at the thought of Jaehyun turned into a persistent, agonizing itch. 

In the midst of this week of disappointment and arousal and worry, college decisions came out. He had not really understood that a fair amount of his anxiety had actually been about this until he checked, and double checked, his two acceptances, three rejections, and one waitlist placement, and felt a huge queasy knot in his stomach melt away. His top choice was amongst the rejections, which wasn’t very surprising, though it still stung. But the two colleges he’d gotten into were solid; maybe not the shining prestigious institution in the heart of the city he’d been dreaming of, but both within an hour of the city, with pretty campuses and a commuter train line leading straight downtown. If Jaehyun moved back home next year, Taeyong would be able to see him easily. And even if he didn’t, the city Taeyong had been dreaming of for a lot longer than he’d known Jaehyun would finally be within his reach. Now all that was left to hope for was that he wouldn’t be starting his college life as a virgin.

~~~~~

Jaehyun stared very purposely at the piano keys under his fingers and tried to keep his face carefully neutral as Doyoung asked, for the third time that week, “Seriously, where has Taeyong been?”

The other times Doyoung had asked this, the question had seemed rhetorical, aimed generally at the people in Yuta’s basement without expecting anyone to respond. The other times Doyoung had asked, Jaehyun hadn’t felt particularly stung by the question. They all knew the literal answer: Taeyong was at work. But Taeyong had never worked every single day before, and now Saturday had arrived, and Yuta had forced them all to come practice way too early (before noon, for god’s sake), and Taeyong had once again texted in the group chat that he had to work. The eyeroll emoji he’d included to show his annoyance at being stuck in the store hadn’t quite eased Jaehyun’s worry that this work schedule wasn’t the full story of why they’d barely seen each other in the week since spring break. 

Apparently Taeyong’s excuses weren’t enough for Doyoung anymore either, because he said, “Hey, Jaehyun, hello? Where’s Taeyong?” 

“You know where he is,” Jaehyun said, tapping his fingers over the keys in a random melody that he barely heard. “At work.” 

“Yeah, but he never works every day,” Doyoung said. “It’s weird.” 

Jaehyun glanced up, and there must have been something in his eyes because Doyoung frowned.

“Did something happened with you two?” 

“No,” said Jaehyun quickly. “Things are fine.”

He was pretty sure this was true. Everything with Taeyong had been normal. They texted constantly and Taeyong always responded quickly. They spoke on the phone most nights, and Taeyong had called him right away when he heard back from colleges. Taeyong smiled at him when they saw each other in school, let him hold his hand when they went the same direction to class, kissed him back when they had enough time to kiss. And during spring break Taeyong had been the first one to send that picture, a picture that Jaehyun still went back and looked at even more than all the pictures Taeyong had sent since then, because the memory of how his stomach had dropped in shock when he’d first seen it made it even more arousing. If anything, Jaehyun felt like their relationship had progressed even though they’d been apart. So things were fine. The only issue was that Taeyong kept seeming to not be around. 

“Don’t worry so much,” Yuta called from across the room. “He said he’d come by when he’s done with work. He’s just been busy.” 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, and hoped he looked like he believed it. Doyoung eyed him but then turned away and let them start practicing. Jaehyun wasn’t sure if it was a bad sign that Doyoung had also noticed Taeyong’s absence, or a good one since surely if something was really wrong, Taeyong would have confided in Doyoung at least.

Even if Yuta and Mark weren’t distracted by worry about Taeyong’s whereabouts the way Jaehyun was, their practice that day was still more unfocused than usual. They’d been trying to decide all week on which songs they’d play for the showcase, but Yuta kept changing his mind. Jaehyun didn’t think this was that big of a deal. They had plenty of time to master whatever songs they chose, especially if they kept spending all their free time on it. But Yuta seemed to be showing some strain for the first time, not just since they’d started the band but really since Jaehyun had known him at all. Yuta had never struck him as a person who got particularly anxious about anything. At least this took Doyoung’s focus away from questioning Jaehyun about Taeyong. 

By mid-afternoon, they had mostly given up on practicing and had devolved into just talking and messing around with the instruments. Yuta had disappeared upstairs at some point and Doyoung, looking a little worried, had gone after him. It turned out to be pretty enjoyable to just riff on random melodies with Mark in their absence. They were both the most technically skilled with their instruments, and it occurred to Jaehyun that maybe some of Yuta’s stress came from the fact that he could tell he wasn’t as good at guitar as they were at drums or piano. Jaehyun would have told him in a heartbeat that Yuta was definitely good enough for a band, and that technical skill only went so far with music like this anyway, and it would have been true. He figured Doyoung was doing a good enough job consoling him–they’d been gone for a while now–and didn’t need his help. 

“Hey, this is pretty good,” Mark said, grinning at Jaehyun over the drum set without missing a beat. 

Jaehyun blinked at him and tried to focus more closely on what he’d been playing, which had formed itself into a repeating progression of chords that he could, now that he thought about it, imagine a melody over. “Yeah, it sort of is,” Jaehyun said. 

“How cool would it be if we played an original song for the showcase?” Mark was nearly bouncing up and down as he drummed, but Jaehyun wasn’t sure if that was from enthusiasm or just what drumming was like. “You can come up with words, right?”

“Uh.” Jaehyun had no idea why Mark would think he could do something like that. Even if his moderate singing ability had been discovered, he was certain he’d never told anyone other than Taeyong that he’d written his own song for that talent show, and it hadn’t seemed like Taeyong had told anyone that part, which Jaehyun was grateful for. 

Luckily he was saved from answering by the sound of the doorbell echoing through the house from upstairs. Mark stopped drumming, and they both listened for a second. Just when Jaehyun was about to start playing again the doorbell rang once more. 

“Isn’t Yuta gonna get that?” Mark asked. 

“I think he’s maybe, uh, occupied,” Jaehyun said. Mark frowned in confusion for a second, then blushed. “I’ll go see who it is.” 

“You should write those chords down though!” Mark called after him as he made his way out into the furnished part of the basement and up the stairs.

Yuta was still nowhere to be seen when he reached the first floor, so Jaehyun went through to the living room and tried to peer through the curtains at whoever might be at the front door. Yuta’s parents weren’t around, and he wasn’t totally sure if he should open the door for a random stranger in their absence. But then he saw who it was, and nearly tripped over himself rushing to the door. 

“Taeyong,” he said breathlessly. 

“Hey,” Taeyong smiled and stepped past him into the entryway. “Did you run upstairs or something?” 

“What? No.” 

“You’re all out of breath,” Taeyong said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Oh, uh, no, I just….” 

Taeyong smirked. “That happy to see me, huh?” 

Jaehyun narrowed his eyes but knew his ears were giving him away. Taeyong let his smile soften and then leaned up and kissed Jaehyun quickly. “Me too,” he said. 

All the unease seemed to melt right out of Jaehyun’s chest and he fought the urge to pull Taeyong back against him and slide his hands up the back of his shirt. It felt like it had been a long time since he’d gotten to do that. He could remember exactly how Taeyong’s spine felt under his palms. 

“Yuta’s downstairs?” Taeyong asked, looking around. 

“He and Doyoung kind of disappeared,” Jaehyun said, snorting at the expression on Taeyong’s face. “It’s probably for the best, Yuta was in kind of a shitty mood. I think he cares more about this band than he’s been letting on.”

“More than he’s been letting on? He’s making you guys practice every waking moment.” 

Jaehyun shrugged and led the way downstairs. They found Mark in the kitchen. He leaned around the open fridge door and said, “Yuta’s parents let him keep so much beer down here. Hey Taeyong.” 

“Hey,” Taeyong said. He dropped onto one of the stools at the island counter. “Can I have one?” 

Mark pulled three cans out of the fridge and slid one across the counter to Taeyong, who took a long gulp. Jaehyun raised his eyebrows. “Long day at work?” 

Taeyong gave him a look. “Every day at that store feels like an eternity, so yes.”

Mark opened his own beer with a hiss and wandered over to flop onto the couch. Soon the sound of the TV flicking through channels filled the basement. Jaehyun went around the counter and leaned next to Taeyong, pressing their shoulders together. “Want to come over later?” he asked quietly. He could smell the faded scent of Taeyong’s shampoo and the stronger lemony fragrance of the disinfectant they used at the store. 

Taeyong took another drink. “Sure,” he said. He was sitting carefully straight, not leaning into Jaehyun the way he’d hoped he would. Not relaxed. Jaehyun glanced over. Taeyong was looking with apparent concentration at the gleaming fridge across the kitchen. A moment later he downed the rest of his beer and hopped off his stool to get another one, then passed Jaehyun to join Mark on the couch. Jaehyun turned and leaned his back against the counter and stared at him. The unease threatened to rise again. But he told himself it was just because Mark was there. Taeyong had never been all that comfortable with PDA. 

Jaehyun grabbed the beer Mark had gotten for him, which had still been sitting untouched on the counter, and opened it as he went to join them. “Move over,” he said, a little more sharply than he’d meant. Neither of them looked away from the TV as they slid over to make room for him. Jaehyun sat down, wishing the couch wasn’t so enormous–there was more than enough space for the three of them to sit without touching. 

He couldn’t pay attention to what was playing on the screen, though whatever it was seemed to be making Mark and Taeyong laugh pretty often. He closed his eyes, balancing his still mostly full beer between his knees and slouching lower into the cushions. Taeyong’s laugh always made him smile. He focused on it, on the slight tremors that he could feel even through the couch as Taeyong’s body shook when he really found something funny. Jaehyun squinted open one eye, gauging the distance between them, and then, deciding both Mark and Taeyong could deal with it, he scooched closer and lay his head on Taeyong’s shoulder. 

Taeyong went very still. Jaehyun could feel the same careful tightness in his posture as he’d felt before, when their shoulders had touched. He sank further into him in response, sure that Taeyong would have to relax sooner or later. Maybe put his arm around him, or touch his hair. He really hoped he would touch his hair. But Taeyong didn’t relax. Jaehyun heard the faintly metallic fizz as he took another sip of beer, the deep internal sound of his swallow. He’d been feeling sleepy when he’d first leaned over, but now it was as though Taeyong’s sudden alertness had infected Jaehyun at their point of contact. He kept his eyes closed but felt miserably attuned to every shift and flinch of Taeyong’s body. He imagined he could hear Taeyong’s heart, beating fast. He slipped his fingers over the soft skin of Taeyong’s inner wrist, thinking he might see if his pulse really had quickened, or if the tension he felt in his body was only imagined. But before he could register the pulse, Taeyong slipped his hand carefully away and started to lean forward. 

“Jaehyun,” he said, “Hey, get up, I need to use the bathroom.” 

Jaehyun lifted his head and looked at him. If Mark hadn’t been sitting just on Taeyong’s other side he would have asked him what was wrong. But Mark was sitting there, and if he was going to ask a question that would potentially reveal that he was being totally delusional and reading into things–or worse, that that there really was something wrong–he’d rather do it when they were alone. Taeyong stood up and a moment later there came the sound of the bathroom door clicking closed. 

Jaehyun dropped his head against the back of the couch and sighed. Out of the corner of his eye he thought he saw Mark glance at him, but he at least didn’t say anything, or ask. Jaehyun stood up. “I think I’m gonna head out,” he said.

“Oh, sure,” Mark said. “I guess I should go too, since Yuta and Doyoung don’t seem like they’re coming back anytime soon?” 

Jaehyun shook his head with a wry smile. “Apparently not. I doubt they’ll be too offended. Or even notice we left.” 

Mark snorted and stood up too, grabbing up his and Taeyong’s empty cans from the table. Taeyong came out of the bathroom. “We’re leaving?” he asked. 

“No point sticking around,” Jaehyun said. 

“Except Yuta does have a really nice TV,” Mark said, as he turned it off. 

“I’m sure we could say, if you want,” Taeyong started.

“No,” Jaehyun said firmly. “Let’s go.” 

Taeyong gave him a quizzical look, but Jaehyun thought his confusion looked slightly exaggerated, as though Taeyong knew he was being weird, and knew that Jaehyun had noticed, and was just trying to cover his tracks. 

Jaehyun had biked to Yuta’s house that morning, as had Mark, but Taeyong didn’t have his bike with him. Mark waved to them at the end of the street and swung his leg over his seat, peddling off in the other direction while they walked side by side towards Jaehyun’s uncle’s house. The afternoon was warm and breezy, with clouds scudding quickly over the sky, giving the sunlight a flickering quality. They walked in silence. Jaehyun thought if he spoke he would start demanding explanations for things he couldn’t even put into words, because he wasn’t sure they weren’t in his head. So he kept his mouth shut and reminded himself they walked in silence all the time, or sat in silence, or lay next to each other in silence, and it had always been comfortable before. It didn’t mean anything. 

When they reached Changmin’s house he was relieved to find the door locked: his uncle wasn’t home from work yet. As soon as the front door closed behind them he took Taeyong by the shoulders and kissed him hard. Taeyong’s back hit the door and he made a muffled surprised sound against his mouth. Jaehyun moved his fingers to Taeyong’s neck, circling it gently, his fingertips in the soft hair at his nape and his thumb over his Adam’s apple. He prayed Taeyong would put his arms around him. He didn’t, exactly, but after a moment he put his hands on Jaehyun’s waist and held him there. Jaehyun slid his tongue over Taeyong’s lips and Taeyong met him with his own tongue, warm as ever, tasting of beer. His hands tightened against Jaehyun’s waist, twisting into his shirt. See? Everything is fine . 

Jaehyun broke apart and grabbed Taeyong’s hand, pulling him up the stairs. Taeyong laughed and stumbled after him. “What’s the rush?” 

“Are you kidding?” Jaehyun said. He yanked Taeyong into his room and pulled him down onto his bed. “It feels like it’s been–” he kissed Taeyong on the mouth– “forever–” he kissed him on the neck– “since I had you here.” He pulled down the collar of Taeyong’s shirt and kissed his collarbone. “Since we had time together.” 

Taeyong squirmed a little, and for a brief, awful moment, Jaehyun thought he was going to pull away. But he just touched Jaehyun’s chin and guided him back up to his mouth. Jaehyun leaned him back and climbed over him, pulling off his own shirt, then Taeyong’s. He slid his hands under Taeyong’s waist, felt his familiar spine, held his hips and rocked against him. 

“What do you want me to do?” Taeyong asked, and there was something strange in his dark eyes. But Jaehyun was too turned on to decipher it. 

“Anything,” he breathed. He nosed at Taeyong’s cheek. “Anything.” 

Taeyong pushed at his chest, and Jaehyun rolled off him without any resistance, thrill vibrating behind his sternum as Taeyong climbed on top of him and started undoing his jeans. Jaehyun lifted his hips and let Taeyong pull off the rest of his clothes. He knelt between Jaehyun’s bare thighs and considered him. 

“You’re staring,” Jaehyun said. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong met his eyes; his own were wide and dark. His jeans were scratchy against Jaehyun’s inner thighs and his hands rested lightly on Jaehyun’s hips in an absentminded way that made him feel shivery and hot. 

Taeyong stared for a moment longer, then lowered his head and kissed Jaehyun’s chest. His mouth was very warm and wet, and each imprint it left on his ribs, his stomach, his hips, seemed to tingle as his saliva cooled. Just before Taeyong’s mouth reached the place he wanted it most, however, Jaehyun sat up. 

“Wait.” 

Taeyong lifted his head, looking at him like he couldn’t quite believe Jaehyun was really telling him to wait at a time like this. “Yours too,” Jaehyun said, glancing down at Taeyong’s pants. 

“Why?” 

“Just take them off,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong hesitated, and Jaehyun could see that strange tension flicker through his eyes again. But he unzipped his pants and wriggled out of them. He was just as hard as Jaehyun was. “Better?” he asked, making to lean down again. 

“Yes,” Jaehyun whispered. “Turn around.” 

Taeyong looked up, and this time there was real surprise on his face. “What?”

“I want to suck you off, too, at the same time. I want to try it,” Jaehyun said. He tried to hold Taeyong’s gaze, though with all of his body now on display it was hard not to let his eyes wander. 

“No…” Taeyong said hesitantly, but it sounded more like disbelief than refusal. 

“Please?” 

“I–I mean, okay,” Taeyong said. “But I barely know how to suck dick right side up, I don’t think I can do it upside down.” 

Jaehyun laughed, though Taeyong didn’t really look like he was joking. “I’m sure you’ll do fine,” Jaehyun said, trying to keep a straight face. 

Taeyong shook his head, but he smiled too, a little, and his cheeks were very flushed. He turned around, until his knees were next to Jaehyun’s shoulder. “Are you sure? This feels so weird,” he said. 

Jaehyun grabbed one of his thighs and pulled it over him so he was straddling his shoulders. “It’ll stop feeling weird soon,” Jaehyun said, and turned his head to kiss the soft pale inside of Taeyong’s thigh. Taeyong shivered so Jaehyun kissed him there again, slid his hands up the backs of his legs to palm his ass and push him down a little closer to his face. 

“Oh my god,” Taeyong murmured as Jaehyun licked up his entire length, and then took him into his mouth. He slid his hands over Taeyong’s thighs, which were quivering, up over his hips and waist, and down again. He tried to take more of Taeyong into his mouth, but then his concentration faltered as Taeyong started doing the same to him. He had already learned by now exactly what Jaehyun liked, the perfect pressure, his tongue pressing into the most sensitive places. Jaehyun tried to refocus. He wanted to last. 

“You definitely,” he managed, his face still between Taeyong’s legs, “do know how to suck dick upside down.” 

Taeyong laughed, with Jaehyun’s cock still in his mouth, and Jaehyun flinched and groaned. He took Taeyong back into his own mouth, but not before he’d covered two of his fingers with spit. As he started to suck Taeyong off in earnest, he reached up and pressed his fingers over his entrance, which twitched against his fingertips. Taeyong moaned softly around his dick, and then went still as Jaehyun pressed one finger carefully inside him. He had only touched Taeyong like this once before, before spring break. He wasn’t sure if it was still okay to do, and he wasn’t sure if he could do it again in a way that Taeyong would like, that wouldn’t hurt. But Taeyong did seem to be liking it. He was alarmingly tight even around just one of Jaehyun’s fingers, but he gradually relaxed. He continued bobbing his head over Jaehyun’s dick, licking and stroking it when he needed to breathe. Jaehyun tried to remember to do the same to him, as he began to move his finger in and out of him, and then added a second finger. Taeyong’s hips started to move, unconsciously, thrusting shallowly into Jaehyun’s mouth. Jaehyun was quickly becoming overwhelmed; it was a lot to think about, to concentrate on, while the wet heat of Taeyong’s mouth threatened to erase every thought. He pressed his fingers deeper into Taeyong, who moaned brokenly, pressing his hips suddenly down. Jaehyun choked, flinching hard, and Taeyong pulled away gasping. 

“Shit, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s fine,” Jaehyun said, his voice hoarse but sure. He grabbed Taeyong’s hips and pulled him back into place, more forcefully than he might have if he hadn’t been so dizzyingly aroused. “Keep going.” 

Taeyong hesitated, but only briefly. The pleasure was a strong incentive. Jaehyun traced his fingers over Taeyong’s entrance again, and then, without really thinking about it, he gripped Taeyong’s ass and lifted his head, licking purposefully over him. He only had a split second to recognize what he was doing, the deep rush of pleasure that shot straight down his body at the realization of where he had his mouth, before Taeyong jolted away from him and scrambled off his body. 

“No,” Taeyong said. His voice shook. 

Jaehyun stared at him. Taeyong did not quite meet his eyes. He sat up, his stomach dropping. “Sorry,” he said. “You don’t like that?”

Taeyong moved his shoulders, not quite a shrug. He’d pulled his knees up to his chest and there was a tightness in his eyes. Jaehyun wanted to put his arms around him but wasn’t sure he should touch him. The thought of Taeyong not wanting him to touch him was horrible. 

“I’m so sorry,” Jaehyun said. “I should have asked. I wasn’t thinking.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Taeyong mumbled. Jaehyun leaned over to try to see his face. It occurred to him that maybe the look in Taeyong’s eyes wasn’t quite shock or repulsion. There was something else there, discomfort maybe, but not disgust. He was very flushed and his chest rose and fell quickly. 

“What is it then?” Jaehyun asked. 

Taeyong closed his eyes and his blush deepened. “That’s just too much. I’m barely holding it together as it is.” 

“Why do you have to hold it together?” Jaehyun asked. “You’re with me.” 

Taeyong opened his eyes and gave him a pained look. Jaehyun just looked back at him and waited. After a moment Taeyong scowled, like he was speaking against his better judgment. “I mean if you do something like that I’m not going to be able to just stop here like we usually do. I….” He took a breath and looked at his knees. “I want to have sex with you. Like real, actual sex. I want you to….” He glanced up. Jaehyun’s stomach clenched. He was suddenly very aware of all his limbs, none of which seemed naturally arranged, all of which seemed too far away from Taeyong’s warm naked body sitting on the other side of the bed. “I didn’t want to say anything,” Taeyong went on. “I know you don’t want to. I didn’t want to make you feel pressured or anything. And I feel like shit for letting something like that get in the way. But I can’t stop thinking about it. I feel like I’m going insane.” 

“Wait, is that why you’ve been avoiding me all week?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” Taeyong said, but he looked away again.

“Who said I don’t want to have sex with you?” 

“You’re so obviously fine with just doing what we’ve been doing,” Taeyong said in a rush. “You always stop right after, you never try for more. And the last time I said anything about sex it was so clear that the thought had never even crossed your mind.”

“The thought has definitely crossed my mind,” Jaehyun said, a little hotly. “I mean, I am fine with what we’ve been doing. And, well, I guess I figured it would be a bigger deal for you, since it might hurt for you, and just be a lot, so I was waiting for you to be ready. And I thought I was right to wait, because before spring break was the first time you showed me you wanted me to finger you, and then we’ve barely seen each other since. So I thought you’d do the same thing and show me when you wanted even more than that.” 

Taeyong looked at him heatedly. “I asked you about sex before. I’m the only one who’s brought it up and you looked at me like I was crazy. And for the record, since we never even talked about it, why were you so sure I’d be the one it would hurt for?” 

“Uh, well….” 

“Although you’re right,” Taeyong said over Jaehyun’s feeble interjection. It seemed his irritation had overtaken his embarrassment. Or maybe he’d just been holding these thoughts in for longer than Jaehyun had realized. “That is what I want. Why was it so hard for you to imagine I’d want that? Even if it might hurt, or whatever, it’s not just automatically a bigger deal for me than it is for you. You shouldn’t have assumed.” 

“ You shouldn’t have assumed!” Jaehyun shot back. 

Taeyong glared at him for a moment, but then, unexpectedly, his face softened, and he looked a little sheepish. “I know. I just thought, if I was right, and you really didn’t want to…. I mean I would have understood, you’ve been through a lot, but it would’ve sucked anyway. So I just tried to wait it out.”

Jaehyun looked at him, annoyed. Did Taeyong think he was so broken that they couldn’t even talk about something like this, because it might send Jaehyun spiraling back into his depression? Had he really thought the reason Jaehyun hadn’t initiated sex before now had anything to do with what he’d been through ? 

But in only the span of a breath his annoyance faded. He supposed Taeyong wasn’t exactly wrong. Haru’s memory, the tragedy of him, the ways his death had changed Jaehyun, had been present between him and Taeyong since the start. He couldn’t be offended now that Taeyong would think it was all still present here, even though, almost to Jaehyun’s own surprise, it really hadn’t been on his mind at all when it came to this.

“I guess I can’t blame you for thinking like that,” Jaehyun said, a little begrudgingly. “I know that’s messed things up between us before. I guess that will never go away, really.”

“I’m not saying it should go away,” Taeyong said. “I don’t mean you should forget him.”

“I know. And I can’t, anyway, even if I should. But that’s not what I think about when we’re together like this. Not at all. All I think about when I touch you is you. ”

Taeyong blinked, the color rising in his face again. “Oh,” he said softly. 

“And I love touching you.” Jaehyun put his hand on Taeyong’s ankle, the closest part of him that he could reach. “I love everything with you. I love… you.” Taeyong’s eyes widened, and Jaehyun felt a sudden spur of nerves that kept him talking quickly. “We should have talked about this sooner. I should have made it clearer how much I want you. You shouldn’t have avoided me.” 

“It just got hard to be around you without wanting to jump you or something. I didn’t think it would be that obvious that I wasn’t around,” Taeyong mumbled, looking very embarrassed. 

“It was. Come on, Taeyong, I notice every moment I’m not with you. And you don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.” Jaehyun grinned. “You could’ve jumped me anytime.” 

Taeyong shot him a look. “And what if you’d freaked out?” 

Jaehyun shrugged. “Then you would’ve stopped, and we would’ve figured it out. Would that really have been the worst thing?” 

“Kind of, yeah,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun laughed and leaned over, close to Taeyong’s face. “I’m not freaked out, okay? And I think we’ve talked enough.” He still hesitated though, watching Taeyong closely, a slight question in his words, in case Taeyong did think more talking was required. 

But Taeyong nodded, and lowered his legs from in front of his chest, and it might have been a thoughtless gesture, just him getting more comfortable, but it felt so much like an invitation, like an opening. Jaehyun leaned in and kissed him, and touched his stomach, and Taeyong pulled him close, until they were lying all pressed together. Jaehyun’s skin warmed shockingly quickly and he felt sweat prickle along the back of his neck. Taeyong’s hand followed a moment later, sliding over his nape. Jaehyun remembered the sense he’d had when they’d first started doing this, that Taeyong had been holding himself back. He’d thought he’d seen that disappear. But now he realized that Taeyong had never fully let go with him before. Even his kisses felt different. Maybe it was just the feeling of having everything out in the open between them. The residual thrill of using the word love and meaning it, even if Taeyong hadn’t said it yet himself. 

Taeyong shifted and his thighs pressed tightly into Jaehyun’s hips, rocking them closer against each other, one slender leg lifting until his foot dug exquisitely into the back of Jaehyun’s thigh. Jaehyun felt like he always did, like he could do this forever and be perfectly content, just holding Taeyong so closely and being held tightly in return. This sense of contentment had never been mutually exclusive with his desire to have more of Taeyong, but he could see how Taeyong might have thought otherwise, might have worried that the thrill Jaehyun felt whenever they so much as brushed against each other in school indicated a lack of hunger to take Taeyong more completely, to take all of him. 

Which couldn’t have been further from the truth.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong lay under Jaehyun and kissed him with everything he had. It had only been a moment since they’d stopped talking and he already couldn’t quite remember how he’d convinced himself Jaehyun hadn’t wanted him enough, hadn’t been just as desperate. It seemed so obvious now, even though they were only kissing; it seemed to radiate through every gentle and not-so-gentle touch of Jaehyun’s fingers, the wet seeking of his tongue, his panting breaths and his pounding heartbeat. Taeyong felt like an idiot. He shouldn’t have doubted Jaehyun, or doubted himself. He couldn’t quite believe Jaehyun had told him he loved him. But he realized he did not have trouble believing that it was true, because he loved him too. He should have said it back right away but he’d been caught off guard and then it seemed the moment had slipped away. He had no idea how he could be certain about a feeling he’d never felt before. But he was certainly in love. The embers in his chest glowed hot and it felt like his skin might ignite at any moment. 

“Mm, wait.” Jaehyun pulled away and sat up. 

“No,” Taeyong said, sitting up with him, holding his waist. 

“I don’t want to stop,” Jaehyun said, looking amused. “Trust me. But I got lube, after last time. Hold on, it’s probably still in my suitcase.” 

Taeyong decided not to comment on the fact that Jaehyun had been back from visiting his parents for an entire week and still had things left in his suitcase. He watched Jaehyun as he slid off the bed and crouched over the suitcase on the other side of the room. His skin was flushed, his spine stood out under his skin as he bent over, rummaging through one pocket and then another. It was such a casual, mundane thing to do; Taeyong had watched Jaehyun dig through the various messes in his room hundreds of times before. But this time his entire body was bare, not to mention he was still mostly erect. Taeyong thought he’d never seen anything so erotic. 

“I don’t have condoms though,” Jaehyun said, looking back over his shoulder. He’d come up with the bottle of lube and was holding it sort of gingerly in one hand. “I was just thinking about my fingers….”

“See, I was right,” Taeyong said, “You really weren’t thinking about sex.” Jaehyun sputtered indignantly, and Taeyong laughed, harder than maybe the situation called for–the sense of relief at having everything out in the open seemed to be making him giggly. 

Jaehyun stood up and walked towards the bed, looked down at Taeyong. He looked very tall, and very naked, and not at all flustered anymore. Taeyong stopped laughing. 

“Are you okay if we do it without a condom?” Jaehyun asked. “Obviously I’ve never done this with anyone else. But I’ll go buy them if you want.” 

“No, I’m–I’m okay,” Taeyong breathed. The full scope of what they were about to do swept over him suddenly. Which was idiotic–he’d been thinking about this for months, had been begging for it only minutes before. He knew what he’d been asking for. But he had to admit that the fluttery feeling in his stomach as Jaehyun kneeled on the bed in front of him was not only arousal. 

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked. 

“No,” Taeyong said. He knew this was a pointless lie from how hot his cheeks felt. “Kind of.” 

“Me too.” 

“What are you nervous for?” Taeyong asked, sharper than he really meant. 

“I don’t want to be bad at it,” Jaehyun said. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Taeyong looked away, suddenly breathless, and thought he saw Jaehyun smiling out of the corner of his eye. “You shouldn’t worry too much,” he said, staring at the heap of Jaehyun’s comforter which was, as usual, in danger of sliding off the foot of the bed. “I think it’s going to hurt no matter what. You’re kind of, uh….” He trailed off, glancing over, his gaze dropping a little helplessly down to Jaehyun’s cock.

“Kind of what?” Jaehyun said, amused. Taeyong gave him a look that he hoped was calm and aloof, though he suspected aloofness would be hard to pull off given his current position, sprawled naked on his back in Jaehyun’s bed. Jaehyun seemed to be thinking along the same lines. He leaned forward, dropping his hands onto the mattress, hanging over Taeyong on all fours. He was definitely smirking. “Kind of what, Taeyong?” 

“You know what I mean,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun dropped to his elbows, his nose brushing Taeyong’s. “I might,” he said. “But I really want to hear you say it.” 

This made Taeyong laugh, which had the unexpected effect of easing the nerves in his stomach. Being teased by Jaehyun was familiar, the pleased smile on his face was familiar, and it reminded Taeyong of all the other familiar things: Jaehyun’s flushed ears and the soft heat of his skin and the smell of him. “I’m not gonna say it,” Taeyong said. He reached for the bottle of lube, which was pinned against the mattress under one of Jaehyun’s hands, and popped the cap. “Give me your hand.” 

Jaehyun did, his eyes following Taeyong’s every move. Taeyong squeezed some lube over Jaehyun’s fingers, the heat under his skin flaring just at the sight. He took Jaehyun’s hand and guided it between his legs, like he had the last time. The first touch of his fingers made him jump, and Jaehyun glanced at him. “Sorry,” Taeyong said. He let go of Jaehyun’s wrist. “You can do it. I’ll relax.” 

Taeyong looked at the ceiling, willed himself to relax against Jaehyun’s touch. It was only his fingers, they had done this much already. So what if it suddenly seemed like fingers were rather pitiful compared to the size of what would be entering him next. He wanted this. And he didn’t have more time to waste. He didn’t know how much longer they’d have before Jaehyun’s uncle came home.

Jaehyun’s face suddenly blocked Taeyong’s line of sight and then his lips were pressed against his, tongue coaxing into Taeyong’s mouth. Taeyong kissed him back, but then pulled away and said, against Jaehyun’s still insistent mouth, “I said you can do it.” 

“Let me kiss you,” Jaehyun said, which seemed like a pointless request, since he was already kissing him, and Taeyong was already letting him. “Put your arms around me.” 

Taeyong did, and the kiss deepened. Jaehyun’s fingers were still against him, slippery and hot, but it was harder to focus on them now, and Jaehyun did not seem to be doing anything with them anyway. With his other hand he lifted Taeyong’s leg, his grip firm under Taeyong’s knee, like he knew what he was doing, which Taeyong thought was unlikely but was very eager to believe. The heat between them seemed to intensify, starting not from Jaehyun’s hands but from his mouth, from the way he was kissing Taeyong like he never wanted to stop, like it was the most important thing he would ever do. When Jaehyun’s finger slipped inside him this time it was easy, Taeyong was nearly craving it. He ran his hands down Jaehyun’s shoulders and over his chest, down his stomach and around his sides. He wanted to pull him closer, to feel the whole length of his body against him, but Jaehyun’s hand needed room to move between Taeyong’s legs and he kept himself carefully raised up above him. He felt Jaehyun slide another finger inside him, and broke the kiss to look down between them. Jaehyun ducked and kissed his neck, his fingers growing more insistent, pressing deeper into him, until they reached a place that made Taeyong jolt and gasp, grabbing Jaehyun’s wrist to still him. 

Jaehyun looked at him, and Taeyong looked back. He could feel the tendons in Jaehyun’s wrist flex against his palm as he pressed back inside him, over that spot again. Taeyong moaned and closed his eyes at this new pleasure, more electric than the deep aching heat that he was used to. 

“You look…” Jaehyun breathed, and didn’t seem like he would finish his thought, like maybe he hadn’t meant to speak aloud at all. 

“What?” Taeyong said, opening his eyes. 

Jaehyun kissed his cheek, his ear. “Beautiful. But different. You’re always beautiful. But now… I feel like I’m going to lose my mind, seeing you like this.” 

Taeyong turned and kissed Jaehyun’s mouth. The rush of feeling, from Jaehyun’s fingers and from his words, was quickly becoming too much. He pressed against Jaehyun’s chest and looked down between them again. “I’m ready, I think.” 

“You think?” 

Taeyong gave a small smile. “Let me turn around.” 

Jaehyun pulled his fingers out and let Taeyong roll over and get on his hands and knees. “You want to do it like this?” he asked. 

Taeyong looked over his shoulder at him. “Should I not?” 

“No,” Jaehyun looked a little flustered, and Taeyong realized suddenly that he seemed slightly disappointed. “I was just checking. This is fine.” 

“I didn’t think you’d be so picky,” Taeyong said, smirking. 

Jaehyun flushed. “I’m not. However you want to do it is fine.” He grabbed the bottle of lube and squeezed some over his cock, and over Taeyong’s entrance. “Tell me if it hurts too much. Seriously. Don’t just take it.” 

Taeyong gave Jaehyun what he hoped was a reassuring look and turned away. He thought Jaehyun might have suspected, correctly, that Taeyong wanted to do it in this position to keep his face hidden. But Taeyong also was glad not to have to watch what was happening. He stared out the window instead and tried to remember to breathe. The sun was low outside but still had not set, though it must be evening by now. He wondered again when Jaehyun’s uncle would be getting home. Maybe he should have thought this through more, logistically, instead of blurting it out in the middle of the afternoon; if they got interrupted halfway through and couldn’t even finish during their first time that would be pretty awful. 

There was a sudden hot pressure behind him, and he glanced back before he remembered he hadn’t wanted to watch, or be watched. Jaehyun was holding his hips, grinding his hard length against him, slippery against his skin from the lube. 

“Just do it,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun looked up and their eyes met. “Please. The waiting is just making me more nervous.” 

Something seemed to break across Jaehyun’s face, something unspeakably warm and tender, and Taeyong wished he hadn’t admitted he was still nervous at all. He wished Jaehyun wouldn’t give him so much time and space to think when all he wanted was to have him already, to have this happen and to know what it was like. He looked away. 

Luckily, Jaehyun seemed to understand that Taeyong’s nerves had nothing to do with how much he wanted this. Taeyong felt Jaehyun line himself up and press against him again, more purposefully now. This was really it, he thought, as the pressure increased and edged towards pain. He swallowed down the instinct to tense up, and reminded himself to breathe, dropping his head down between his shoulders and closing his eyes, exhaling slowly until his lungs were totally empty, and then he felt Jaehyun breach the resistance of his body and go still. Jaehyun’s fingers dug hard into his skin, and after a moment Taeyong realized he had not exactly gone still at all. 

“You’re shaking,” Taeyong said, lifting his head but not looking back. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said. He grunted quietly. “Just a sec.” 

“Are you about to come or something?” 

“No,” Jaehyun said. “I’m just trying to go slow.” 

“You don’t have to go slow,” Taeyong said. “This feels fine.” Which was sort of true. 

“I’m only like halfway in.” 

“Wait,” Taeyong forgot himself and looked back. “Seriously?” 

Jaehyun flashed him a grin, though he looked slightly apologetic, and was so flushed that the effect was rather more adorable than Taeyong thought he’d intended. 

“Jesus,” Taeyong muttered, and turned away again. “What did I get myself into?”

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said, and sounded so sincere that Taeyong laughed. 

“I’m kidding,” Taeyong said. “So come on. You’re not going to break me, seriously.” 

Jaehyun didn’t seem fully reassured but he started moving, though not pushing deeper inside like Taeyong expected. Instead he pulled out, and started thrusting very shallowly into him. The pressure was intense, a deep internal ache and a sharper pain closer to the surface. “Add some more lube,” Taeyong said. He heard Jaehyun scrambling for the bottle on the sheets next to them, which felt extremely strange as he leaned to the side while still inside Taeyong, and then cool slippery gel slid over the place where they were joined. 

“Better?” Jaehyun asked. 

“Yeah.” 

Jaehyun started moving again. Taeyong felt it in his whole body, up to his chest, his throat. The roof of his mouth seemed to tingle every time Jaehyun pushed deeper. And then Jaehyun’s hips were pressed against Taeyong’s ass, and he was shaking again. Taeyong could feel Jaehyun’s thighs trembling against his own. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun groaned quietly. “This time I did almost come.” 

“Well, don’t yet,” Taeyong said. He was still concentrating on not letting his entire body seize up or jolt away from the almost unbearable pressure inside him. It wasn’t exactly a bad feeling, but it wasn’t exactly as good as he had hoped either. 

“How does it feel?” Jaehyun asked. 

Taeyong wished Jaehyun wasn’t quite so attuned to all his reactions. “I don’t know yet,” he said. “But I’m fine.” 

“Glowing praise,” Jaehyun said. 

“Well you’ve barely done anything yet,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun made an indignant sound and pushed his hips forward, suddenly enough that Taeyong almost lost his balance. He sucked in a breath. He had thought Jaehyun was already inside as deep as he could go, but apparently not. 

Whatever point Jaehyun might have been trying to make was compromised by the fact that he immediately asked, “Are you okay?” 

“Yes,” Taeyong said, a little out of breath. “Yes. Please stop worrying and just f-fuck me.” 

“Okay,” Jaehyun whispered. 

He shifted, and started thrusting into Taeyong again, his movements still small but he was already so deep inside him that it felt completely different from before. Taeyong twisted his fingers into the sheets. Jaehyun’s breathing grew louder, the sound of his panting soon seemed to fill the room. He’d found a rhythm now, though Taeyong thought it still felt as though he was holding himself back, which he couldn’t help but be grateful for, though he didn’t want to admit it. 

“You’re tense,” Jaehyun said. He was touching Taeyong’s side and back, his other hand tight in the crease of Taeyong’s hip. Taeyong jumped at the sudden press of Jaehyun’s soft mouth against his shoulder blade, against his spine and the back of his neck, the edge of his jaw. His breaths were loud against Taeyong’s ear, and very hot. “Taeyong.” 

Taeyong reveled in the new heat of Jaehyun’s chest against his back. The sensations inside him started to shift, to grow hotter too. Jaehyun reached around and touched his collarbone, slid down his chest, over his nipples which made his breath catch. Jaehyun seemed to seize on this small reaction. He pinched his nipple and kissed his neck, and, maybe unconsciously, his thrusts grew more forceful. Taeyong couldn’t quite draw a full breath; he had started groaning quietly every time Jaehyun pushed inside him, small noises being punched out of him along with the breath from his lungs. There was a strange building feeling inside of him, and it took him a moment to realize he was no longer in pain. 

“Jae,” Taeyong said, trying to catch his breath, wondering when his voice had gotten so shaky. 

“Oh, fuck,” said Jaehyun, and his arms tightened around Taeyong suddenly. 

“Did you come?” Taeyong asked. 

“No… give me some credit, seriously,” Jaehyun said. “Just, when you call me that….” 

“Jae?” 

Jaehyun laughed quietly right in Taeyong’s ear, making him shiver. “Yeah.” Taeyong felt his teeth scrape against the back of his neck and dropped his head, his skin crawling with pleasure. “Can I go harder?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

“Yeah.” 

Jaehyun peeled away from his back and Taeyong missed the warmth of him, but the thought was quickly forced out of his mind. Jaehyun held his waist and shifted his knees on the mattress and then drove into him, much harder than before. Taeyong choked on his breath and dropped down to his elbows. It didn’t hurt, which seemed miraculous, when it had hurt so much at the start even when Jaehyun had been gentle. He wondered how his body had already gotten so used to Jaehyun, made space somehow to accommodate him inside, to let Jaehyun fill him up like this. 

Jaehyun was groaning Taeyong’s name, his hands tight on his waist. “Taeyong, you feel so good, oh my god.”

“Can you,” Taeyong breathed, “touch me?” 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun dropped down to brace himself against the mattress, ran one hand down Taeyong’s flinching stomach to his cock. “Of course baby, anything you want.” 

Taeyong moaned and felt something shudder through his entire body at the first hot touch of Jaehyun’s fingers. He wasn’t fully hard anymore, but he felt the blood rush back quickly under Jaehyun’s touch; he was aching within seconds. “‘B-baby?’ Really?” He wasn’t sure his indignation was coming across considering his voice was absolutely wrecked. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, and there was something teasing in his voice again, like he was smiling even as he panted above Taeyong’s back. “You’re my baby. My perfect–oh, fuck, Taeyong.” Jaehyun groaned brokenly. “I’m really close.” 

“Just a little more,” Taeyong said. “Please, Jae, fuck.” 

“Oh, no,” Jaehyun moaned, and pressed into Taeyong so deeply he could swear he felt it in his stomach. Jaehyun shuddered and cursed behind him, and Taeyong could feel him pulsing inside. “Sorry,” Jaehyun gasped, “Sorry.” 

Taeyong grabbed Jaehyun’s hand that was still wrapped around his cock. “Keep going, I’m close too.” 

Jaehyun stroked him, though he was still shaking, and didn’t seem to have softened inside Taeyong at all. Taeyong’s arms were growing tired, even more so as Jaehyun started thrusting inside him again, putting his weight on him. Taeyong let his chest drop down to the mattress, his damp cheek pressed into Jaehyun’s sheets. 

“How are you still hard?” he gasped. 

Jaehyun’s other arm was tight around Taeyong’s hips, holding his ass up against him as he rocked deeply into him. “I don’t know,” he moaned. “I don’t know. You feel so fucking good. I’ve never felt like this.” 

Taeyong could feel something hot running down his thighs and realized with a bizarre sort of thrill that it was Jaehyun’s come sliding out of him. Something like shock reverberated through him, as though this sensation more than anything else made him realize what they were doing, what they had done–Jaehyun was inside him, Jaehyun had come inside him. His own orgasm was so much more intense than anything he had felt before that he almost didn’t realize what was happening. He lost track of the specific sensations, his own reactions, and just felt, in every part of his body at once, for what seemed like a very long and disorienting time. Finally the feeling, just as he thought he might fall completely apart, broke, shattering through his body and over his skin, and he was moaning into the sheets, his body shaking–more than shaking, nearly writhing. It was too much and he wanted to pull away to make it stop but also wanted it never to end. The only thing outside of himself that he was aware of was Jaehyun, who he thought from the way he moaned and trembled against him might have come for a second time, and then, when Jaehyun’s body had softened, he was aware of how he held him, and murmured softly in his ear.

Some time later Taeyong opened his eyes. The room was dark, and he had no idea how long it had been, but Jaehyun was still naked beside him, lying on his back, and Taeyong could feel that the sweat along his spine had not yet fully cooled. “Jae,” he mumbled, his mouth half covered by the sheets. 

Jaehyun turned to look at him, grinning like he couldn’t help it. His eyes were bright and Taeyong thought that even if Jaehyun had not said the words before, he would have known how Jaehyun felt about him from this moment, from the way his heart shone through his eyes. Jaehyun rolled onto his side and ran his hand through Taeyong’s hair, pushing the sweaty strands off his temple. “Are you okay?” 

“Mmhm,” Taeyong said. He wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to move again, but that did not seem like a pressing concern. 

“You’re kind of a mess,” Jaehyun said, and from the flush on his cheeks Taeyong suspected this excited him. 

For his part, the mess was getting uncomfortable, and the pain that had so blissfully disappeared seemed to be returning, a dull throbbing in his lower back and an unpleasant stickiness between his legs. “Whose fault is that?” he said.

“Come shower with me, I can clean you up,” Jaehyun said. 

“No,” Taeyong said, “I can do it. Just, not yet.” 

“Okay baby,” Jaehyun said, and smiled at the look Taeyong gave him. He rubbed Taeyong’s back, at the base of his spine, right where it ached, and Taeyong closed his eyes. 

“Jae?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I love you too, you know.” 

It was quiet for a moment. Taeyong didn’t open his eyes. The warmth of Jaehyun’s palm on his back felt very nice. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, very softly, sounding a little stunned. “I know.” He put his face close to Taeyong’s, so their noses touched, and they breathed for a while together. 

~~~~~

Jaehyun stared up at the ceiling in the darkness. He had slept for a while, but he’d opened his eyes at some point in the middle of the night and hadn’t been able to fall back asleep. A strange but not unpleasant feeling had settled in his chest, and he thought that this somehow was what had woken him. He couldn’t tell if it was from a forgotten dream or just some belated, sleepy realization that something in his life had changed. 

Taeyong was lying next to him, his breath slow and quiet. Jaehyun gazed at the bare skin of his back, the sharp protruding shoulder blades, the gentle slope of his slender waist disappearing under the blanket. It was enough to make Jaehyun’s body flush again with heat. He looked back at the ceiling. Everything they had done together that afternoon had replayed in his head a million times but it still felt incredible that it had happened. He’d barely gotten through dinner afterwards, could barely keep a straight face in front of his uncle. He was certain that what they’d done must be obvious, that he must have changed in some undefinable way that would be immediately apparent to any adult who knew how these things worked. But if it was, his uncle hadn’t let on and behaved totally normally. Jaehyun thought he’d at least covered their tracks well. By the time Changmin had gotten home his sheets were already in the washing machine and Taeyong was halfway through what Jaehyun thought must have been the longest shower anyone had ever taken. He’d stayed in there so long Jaehyun had first worried that he might have fainted, and then, after he pounded on the door and confirmed he was in fact conscious, worried that Taeyong was having trouble cleaning himself up, or that he’d been hurt after all, or that he just couldn’t face Jaehyun again. Jaehyun spent the rest of Taeyong’s shower helping his uncle with dinner, completely distracted by a deep sense of guilt. But when Taeyong finally came downstairs, his skin bright red from the hot water, he seemed totally fine, even able to keep up a lively conversation with Changmin that Jaehyun hoped covered his own dazed silence. 

The most humiliating part had come later, when Changmin had gone to bed and he and Taeyong were alone in his room again, and Taeyong had asked him if he was alright, since he’d been weird at dinner. Jaehyun had to admit then that there was a part of him that had hoped that Taeyong would not be quite so fine after all, that he would have needed some sort of comfort, because it would have given him an excuse to hold him for a while.

Instead he sucked it up and just asked. “Do you feel different now?” 

Taeyong had looked at him, not, as he’d feared, like he was being a total idiot. “Well, I’m kind of sore,” he said, but he smiled as he said it, and blushed, which made Jaehyun blush too, and start to get hard again, which he turned around quickly to hide. 

“Maybe I feel different,” Taeyong had gone on, thoughtfully, apparently unbothered by the fact that Jaehyun had turned his back on him for no apparent reason. (Or maybe he was unbothered because the reason was, in fact, very apparent.) “But not in a bad way, so you don’t have to worry about me. You don’t regret it, do you?” 

“No,” Jaehyun said, so fast he nearly choked. “Of course not.” 

“And you want to do it again, don’t you?” 

Jaehyun spun around. “Now?”

“No,” Taeyong laughed, “Definitely not now. But soon, probably.” 

“Right, yeah. Yeah, I want to do it again.” 

Now he stared around his dark room and tried not to think so hard about how badly he wanted to do it again. He wondered if an unforeseen consequence of having sex for the first time was that now that was all he’d ever want to do again.

“Hey,” Taeyong mumbled suddenly. His voice was low and scratchy with sleep, a quiet growl.

Jaehyun startled and looked over. Taeyong hadn’t moved, his back and his disheveled hair still all Jaehyun could see in the dark, and for a second Jaehyun wondered if he’d only imagined the sound of his voice. “You’re awake?” Jaehyun whispered. 

“Mmhm. Why are you?”

“How could you tell?” 

“You’re fidgeting. And you keep sighing. It’s so dramatic I couldn’t possibly sleep through it.” 

“Sorry.” 

Taeyong rolled over and Jaehyun felt something unclench in his chest at the sight of Taeyong’s face, at the touch of his sleep-warm hand. 

“Did you have another dream?” 

“No,” Jaehyun said. “I don’t think so. Nothing’s wrong, seriously. I just couldn’t fall back asleep.” Jaehyun could feel Taeyong watching him closely. “You want to know what I’m thinking about?” he asked.

“Obviously, yes,” said Taeyong. 

Jaehyun sighed again. It really did sound dramatic, now that he heard it. “I’m thinking I really wish you would hug me, but if you do, I’m definitely going to get hard, and I’ll want to do more than hug even though you’re already sore from earlier, but I still really wish you’d hug me because I really like just hugging you, or just being with you at all, and honestly now I’m worried I’ll never be able to hold back again.” 

There was a moment of absolute silence in the room, and then Taeyong let out a loud snort of laughter. Jaehyun felt his breath against his ear and shivered. 

“So you’re saying,” Taeyong managed, “that the sex was so good it basically broke you.” 

“I don’t think I’m saying that,” said Jaehyun. 

“It definitely sounds like you’re saying that,” Taeyong said. He put his hand on Jaehyun’s stomach. 

“What are you doing?” Jaehyun groaned. 

“I’m trying to hug you, like you asked,” Taeyong said. “So what if you get hard?” 

“You’re making fun of me,” Jaehyun said. 

“Kind of. But also a hug sounds nice.” 

Jaehyun put his hands over his face. “I didn’t know I could be so….”

“Cringey? Yeah,” Taeyong said. “This is who we are now. Doyoung and Yuta can’t be the only insufferable couple around. And anyway,” he moved closer, wrapped his arm around Jaehyun’s waist, “We’re all alone. No one has to know that you can occasionally be embarrassingly sweet and adorable.” 

“I’m pretty sure a lot of people think I’m sweet and adorable, actually,” Jaehyun said. He rolled over and pulled Taeyong to his chest.

“As long as you’re not hugging any of them like this,” Taeyong said, his voice muffled now, his breath hot on Jaehyun’s collarbone. 

“Definitely not,” Jaehyun said. He closed his eyes. The tight dreamy feeling in his chest had disappeared, the sense that maybe none of this was real, or that maybe his life would never be the same. He could, it turned out, hug Taeyong without exploding. He closed his eyes, thinking even if he couldn’t sleep at least lying here in the dark with Taeyong in his arms wasn’t a bad way to pass the time at all. 

When he opened his eyes again, the sun was up, and Taeyong was carefully extracting himself from Jaehyun’s hold. Jaehyun tightened his grip reflexively and Taeyong grunted. 

“Hey, I have to go home,” he said. 

“Why?” Jaehyun mumbled. “It’s Sunday.”

“I have work,” Taeyong said, sitting up and trying to pry Jaehyun’s arms from around his waist. 

“No,” Jaehyun said. He pushed his face into Taeyong’s soft stomach and felt him groan. Jaehyun nuzzled at him lazily without lifting his head. Taeyong put his hand in his hair and tried to push him away, but not very hard, so Jaehyun pulled himself closer, kissing across Taeyong’s stomach and biting his waist. 

Taeyong sucked in a breath. “Ow. What are you doing?” 

Jaehyun pulled himself up and pushed Taeyong down onto his back, leaning over him. He was ridiculously hard, which, admittedly, was how he usually woke up, but the presence of an already-naked Taeyong in his bed certainly seemed to increase the urgency of the situation. “What do you think I’m doing?” 

“Jae, I can’t do it again already. It’ll hurt.” 

“I won’t put it in,” Jaehyun said, and ducked down to kiss Taeyong’s neck. But then he lifted his head, a little more awake now, and looked at him. “Did it really hurt a lot?” 

Taeyong shrugged. “Not more than I expected. And it felt good too, while it was happening. Just afterwards, you know.” He smiled, suddenly amused. “Oh my god, don’t look so guilty. I liked it, okay? Haven’t I made that clear? I really liked it, and I really like you. I better not have to reassure you this much every time we have sex.” 

Jaehyun blushed. “No, right, I know.” He leaned down and kissed Taeyong’s chest. “I really liked it too. And you.” 

“Well, that’s obvious,” Taeyong said, and laughed, and then, in the brief moment of Jaehyun’s surprise, he rolled them over until he was straddling Jaehyun’s chest. “If you really feel that bad about the damage you did to my poor fragile body, you could make it up to me with a blowjob,” he said.

Jaehyun glanced at Taeyong’s own erection, which was rather closer to his face than he’d been expecting. He swallowed, but schooled his expression and smirked up at him. “I thought you had to go to work?” 

“Nice try,” Taeyong said. He ran a hand through Jaehyun’s hair, and Jaehyun’s face flushed so hot he nearly gasped, surprised by his own reaction, by how affected he was as Taeyong looked down at him. 

He scooched down the bed, maneuvering a little awkwardly to get his arms under Taeyong’s thighs. He lifted his head and licked the precome already dripping from the tip of Taeyong’s cock and heard a surprised intake of breath above him, as though Taeyong had not expected him to really do this. Or maybe the feel of Jaehyun’s tongue was just still good enough to startle him. He swallowed Taeyong down and heard him moan quietly. He could already taste him strongly at the back of his tongue, and from the way Taeyong’s thighs shook he knew he wouldn’t last long. Taeyong braced himself against the wall with one hand and with the other held the back of Jaehyun’s head. Jaehyun squeezed Taeyong’s ass, which fit perfectly in his hands. His own cock was still achingly hard, and he only held out for a moment before reaching down and touching himself. 

“Fuck, Jae, that’s so good. You’re so,” Taeyong shuddered, his thighs flexing against Jaehyun’s shoulders, “You’re so fucking hot. I can’t–I’m already–oh, fuck.”

Taeyong’s hand tightened in Jaehyun’s hair and Jaehyun pressed forward, until his nose nudged into Taeyong’s groin and his throat flexed around the tip of his cock. His senses were completely filled with Taeyong, the taste and smell of him, the heat of his body. Taeyong let out a broken moan and Jaehyun felt his come flood down his throat and pulled back, gasping, sucking at the head until Taeyong was shaking above him. Taeyong pushed his face away, shuddering violently, and sat heavily on Jaehyun’s chest. Jaehyun stroked himself faster, his arm trapped under Taeyong’s leg, but Taeyong didn’t seem able to lift himself up at the moment, and Jaehyun didn’t mind. He came only a moment later, the hot liquid spilling over his stomach, his chest rising and falling enough that Taeyong’s body rose and fell too with the movement. 

When Jaehyun looked up Taeyong’s eyes had cleared, and he was smiling in a sleepy sort of way, running his hand through Jaehyun’s hair again and again. Jaehyun turned and kissed his thigh until Taeyong climbed off him and leaned down to kiss him firmly on the mouth. 

“Jae,” he murmured. 

“Mm.” 

“I really do need to go now,” Taeyong said. 

“I know.” 

Taeyong kissed him again, then tapped their foreheads together. “I… I love you.” 

“Mm,” Jaehyun smiled. “I love you too, baby.” 

Taeyong sat up, shaking his head a little. “I don’t know about this whole ‘baby’ thing.” He climbed off the bed and started looking around for his clothes, first wiping himself off with one of Jaehyun’s t-shirts, apparently under the impression that Jaehyun wouldn’t mind–an impression that was absolutely correct. Jaehyun felt his cock twitch helplessly again as he watched Taeyong dress. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“It’s too cutesy,” Taeyong said. His back was to Jaehyun, his ass now tragically covered by his boxers. 

“Well, you are cute,” Jaehyun said. “Especially your ass. Your ass is incredibly cute.” 

Taeyong looked back at him. “Enjoying the show?” 

Jaehyun grinned. “Of course I am, baby.” 

“Hmm,” Taeyong said. The rest of his skin disappeared under denim and cotton. “I’ll consider it.” He shoved his phone in his pocket and walked around Jaehyun’s bed towards the door. He stopped for a moment, looking down at Jaehyun. “You’re….” His gaze raked over Jaehyun’s body, taking in the dried come on his stomach. 

“The hottest guy you’ve ever seen?” Jaehyun suggested. 

Taeyong shook his head, grinning. “Well, yes,” he said. He bent over and kissed Jaehyun quickly, dancing out of his reach when Jaehyun tried to pull him back into bed. “I’ll talk to you later.” The door clicked softly shut behind him. 

Jaehyun sighed and dropped back against his pillows, his hand drifting inevitably down; he was already mostly hard again. Maybe Taeyong was right–the sex really had broken him. 

~~

Apart from the sometimes inconvenient skyrocketing of his sex drive, Jaehyun felt anything but broken over the next few weeks. He was pretty sure he was being hopelessly cliche, but he kept finding himself smiling every time he so much as thought of Taeyong, let alone actually saw him. He wanted to spend every free moment together, and probably would have, if Taeyong hadn’t insisted that even his fairly relaxed parents would start getting suspicious if he was sleeping at Jaehyun’s house every single night. Taeyong still had work, and Jaehyun still had band practice, and of course they both had school with only a couple classes and free periods where they could see each other. But nothing seemed able to break Jaehyun’s high spirits, for a while. 

Jaehyun did not want to attribute all his good feelings to sex, but he couldn’t pretend that wasn’t a part of it. Not only because of the sex itself, but because he could tell that some last remnant of guardedness or self-consciousness that Taeyong had been holding onto was finally falling away. 

After the first time, Jaehyun barely survived the next few days. He fully got an erection in class on Monday just from Taeyong showing up right at the bell, apologizing breathlessly to the teacher for almost being late. Jaehyun told himself Taeyong’s flushed cheeks were obviously because he’d had to run to make it in time, but no amount of logic could convince his dick to reframe its own understanding of the situation, and the first twenty minutes of class were extremely uncomfortable. It was Thursday by the time Taeyong finally didn’t have to work, and Jaehyun told Yuta flatly that he wasn’t going to practice and there was nothing he could do to change his mind. But when he closed his bedroom door and looked at Taeyong standing there in front of him, he was overcome by a moment of awkwardness that kept him frozen. Having sex with Taeyong again had been all he could think about for days, but now that he really could he felt like he’d forgotten how to take the first step. Luckily, Taeyong did not seem to be suffering from this particular hangup, and simply took off all his clothes and went to wrap his arms around Jaehyun’s neck and kiss him. Jaehyun was almost reluctant to undress himself, because the feeling of Taeyong’s naked body against his own clothed one was ridiculously hot. But Taeyong’s hands were eager and his clothes were scattered across the floor soon enough. They did it face to face, that time, and then lay in bed talking and drifting in the mild afternoon sunlight, until Taeyong rolled on top of him, and they did it again like that. 

Even the weather was cooperating, and there was a pervasive sense of optimism as April arrived that Jaehyun thought seemed to be affecting everyone in town, not just lovestruck teenagers. Yuta seemed more relaxed at their band practices. This might have had something to do with the fact that the melody Jaehyun and Mark had come up with almost by accident had actually turned out to be good enough to expand into a full song after all, thanks in large part to the almost boundless energy Jaehyun seemed to have these days. All the music they worked on was a thrill and everything seemed to bring him joy, especially when Taeyong was there watching, chatting and laughing with Doyoung in the background while the others practiced. Jaehyun wondered if this was what people meant when they talked about their muses. He was careful, when he started thinking of lyrics, not to let them revolve entirely around Taeyong, mostly because of the vague bruised feeling that still accompanied his memories of the last song he’d composed, which had been so devoted to one person. But still, the ideas came to him easily, so easily, in fact, that he came up with another song too, higher tempo and louder, that Yuta was especially enthusiastic about–with reason, since Jaehyun had composed that one with Yuta’s voice and energy in mind, and Yuta ended up writing most of the lyrics for it himself. 

They were not the only ones excited about the senior class trip. The entire grade seemed to be, even the kids who usually treated any school event with disdain. Taeyong and Doyoung had numerous detailed and likely exaggerated stories of the trip from their older siblings and they eagerly filled Jaehyun in. Every year at the end of May, after finals, the graduating class spent two nights at an old summer camp a few hours away. The place was right out of a movie, they claimed. 

“A horror movie?” Jaehyun asked skeptically. 

This earned him two remarkably similar dirty looks from Taeyong and Doyoung, who seemed to feel he wasn’t properly appreciating the tradition of not only the trip itself, but also the anticipation beforehand. 

This anticipation was infectious though, even for Jaehyun, who hadn’t spent his entire childhood looking forward to the trip. The weather seemed to get warmer every day and a central topic of conversation in school was if it would actually be warm enough by May to swim in the lake–apparently the year before it had rained the entire time. 

Perhaps it was the weather then, and the increasingly obvious hints of summer, that made Jaehyun realize one morning, in the precise moment when he sat up in bed and meant to start getting ready for school, that the trip was only a month away, and that two weeks after that they would all be graduating. 

He stared a little blankly at the foot of his bed, the rumpled blankets and the shapes his own legs made beneath them. He couldn’t quite tell if the heavy pressure in his chest was a rational one, because graduation would mean facing the uncertainties of what came next, or an irrational one more tied to the idea of summer itself, the way his previous summer had imploded, the way he and Taeyong had fallen apart. How raw and fresh Haru’s death had still been, the summer before–it didn’t feel so fresh anymore, but the memory of those feelings was still close enough to make Jaehyun feel dizzy and sick. The cycle of the seasons had never seemed quite so tyrannical as it suddenly did to him in that moment. He felt–literally felt, in his chest and stomach and a weird tightness in his throat–that summer would not just bring up painful memories from the year before, but would send him back to where he had started, collapsing all the months in between as though they had never happened at all. A faint voice that sounded like Sooyoung’s told him this was not how these things worked. But it was very, very faint. He lay back down in bed and did not go to school. 

He wondered, that afternoon as he watched endless episodes of an old sitcom on his laptop, how many days–or weeks, or months–he might spend in bed this time. If this time it might be forever. Already things were feeling muffled and distant; the thought that he might spend the rest of his life watching sitcoms in this bed did not seem terrible. His phone buzzed, which he thought it might have been doing frequently, but he didn’t know exactly where in his blankets it had gotten buried, and he didn’t look for it. It would run out of battery eventually. 

When Jaehyun woke the next morning, it was to his uncle knocking on his door and telling him softly that Taeyong had come by to go to school together. Jaehyun said nothing. Changmin had always understood, all the other times when he couldn’t quite muster the energy to respond. Though it had been a while since that had happened, and Jaehyun considered the possibility that maybe his uncle had forgotten just how pathetic Jaehyun really could be. 

It seemed he had, because instead of quietly leaving, he opened the bedroom door and said again, “Taeyong’s here. He’s waiting for you.” 

Jaehyun rolled his head to the side. “Say I’m sick,” he said. His voice was scratchy and sounded like a stranger’s. 

Changmin hesitated in the doorway for what felt like a long time, long enough for Jaehyun’s thoughts to start drifting again. “I will if you really want me to,” he said finally. “But maybe seeing him for a moment would be okay. He doesn’t need to stay long if it’s not.”

Jaehyun looked over at him again, wondering distantly why his uncle cared. 

“He’s worried about you,” Changmin said. Jaehyun blinked. He hadn’t thought he’d asked that question aloud. “He cares about you, Jaehyun.” 

Jaehyun looked at the ceiling, a sudden prick behind his eyes catching him off guard. He had thought he was numb enough not to feel like crying. “He hasn’t seen me like this,” he said, after a moment. 

“He cares about you,” Changmin repeated, as though that was an answer. 

“Fine,” Jaehyun said flatly. He sat up. His entire body protested the movement, tried to drag him back down into the uneasy comfort of his stale sheets. 

Changmin looked at him for another moment, then left. A minute later there were hurried footsteps on the stairs, and Taeyong appeared, stepping cautiously inside the room and hovering in the open doorway. 

“Hi,” Jaehyun said. 

“Hi.” 

Jaehyun had not yet looked at him directly. Instead he gazed at a spot on the wall a few feet away. “I’m not going to school,” he said. This seemed like relevant information. 

“Okay,” Taeyong said. “Can I sit with you?” 

Jaehyun nodded. He didn’t think he’d meant to nod, but he felt himself doing it anyway. Taeyong passed through his line of sight and Jaehyun caught a glimpse of big worried eyes and a sheen of sweat across his cheekbones. Then the mattress sank a little under Taeyong’s weight. 

“I missed you yesterday,” Taeyong said. 

“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong reached over and took his hand. His palm against Jaehyun’s chapped knuckles was a little sweaty. He could feel the calluses made by his bike handles. 

Jaehyun looked at their hands and let out a slow breath. “I don’t want to put this on you,” he said quietly. “I don’t want it to be on you, to make me better.” 

“I’m not trying to make you better,” Taeyong said. “You don’t need to be better. You’re good.” 

“I don’t feel good,” Jaehyun said. 

“No,” Taeyong said quietly. “I know. That’s okay.” He held Jaehyun’s hand until Jaehyun’s palm started sweating too. “I just want to be here,” Taeyong said. “Maybe it’s not only for you.” 

Jaehyun looked at him. This possibility had not occurred to him. He wasn’t sure what to make of it and it felt like a little too much to think about in his current state. He leaned forward without really knowing what he was leaning towards until his head landed in Taeyong’s lap, the sunlight in the room blocked out by the soft fabric of Taeyong’s t-shirt against his face. After a moment Taeyong touched his hair, stroking it gently, and Jaehyun closed his eyes and curled his fingers into the hem of Taeyong’s shirt. He still felt heavy, and in those few quiet moments before his mind let go and he drifted back to sleep, he wondered if Taeyong could feel all that extra weight in Jaehyun’s body, in his thoughts. If he could, if his leg was being crushed by it all under Jaehyun’s head, he didn’t give any sign; his fingers in his hair didn’t stop moving, he didn’t pull away. Jaehyun slept. 

When he woke again Taeyong was sprawled on his back over Jaehyun’s messy sheets and had fallen asleep too. Jaehyun lifted his head from his lap and watched him for a while. His body did not feel quite as heavy as it had before. This worried him a little, that Taeyong’s appearance might have helped so quickly, that he could have so much influence on Jaehyun’s life. Wasn’t he supposed to be able to get through these things by himself, if he was really healing? But Taeyong’s words still echoed in his head. He knew Taeyong would never have said those words the previous summer, would not have felt those words the previous summer. And Jaehyun would never have believed him anyway. But he did believe him now, easily. It was not nothing, then, the months that had passed, and all the things that had changed. Not everything was the same as it had been, after all. 

The relief that filled him was intense; it was unnerving to realize how anxious he had really been, before he’d shut down. It was unnerving too, to realize how easily he could still fall apart. He texted Sooyoung before he could dwell on this, before he could let the meaner parts of his mind convince him he had failed in some fundamental and humiliating way, and asked if she had time to meet with him that afternoon instead of waiting for their usual appointment. He reminded himself that even reaching out to her was better than staying in his own head, the way he would have before, that this also showed how things had changed. His thoughts were still shaken and uneasy, and his body felt strange, and he didn’t trust himself to maintain the lightness he had woken up with on his own. Sooyoung replied quickly, saying she could speak in an hour. He looked at Taeyong, asleep with one hand splayed on his stomach, and one on the mattress where it had landed when it slid out of Jaehyun’s hair. He’d have to wake Taeyong up soon, and ask him to leave before he spoke to Sooyoung. He was reluctant to do it, and he wasn’t sure if it was just because he didn’t want Taeyong to leave or because some part of him still flinched against the idea of being so messed up he needed emergency sessions with his therapist. But he knew Taeyong wouldn’t see it that way, and more than that, he knew Taeyong would come back. There was something warm and tight in his throat, as he watched Taeyong’s eyelids flutter over a dream. He could let Taeyong leave, because he would be back. Maybe it was just that Jaehyun’s mind was still not working as quickly or with as much complexity as it usually did, but it all felt very simple, suddenly. Maybe it’s not only for you.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

Taeyong’s phone was ringing, for the third time in twenty minutes. He was doing his best to ignore it, because the first time it rang had been at the exact moment when Jaehyun had slid inside him and he’d wrapped his legs tightly around Jaehyun’s waist. The first time it rang it had been easy to ignore, no contest between whoever the caller was and Jaehyun’s body against his own. The second time, Taeyong had pushed up on his elbows to kiss Jaehyun more deeply, and by the time his phone stopped vibrating in his pants pocket somewhere on the floor, Jaehyun’s tongue was hot on his neck and he was no longer wondering who was calling. But now his phone was ringing again. 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun said hoarsely, sitting up. 

“Just keep going,” Taeyong said, tightening his legs hopefully around Jaehyun’s hips. 

“What if it’s an emergency?” Jaehyun said. “It must be, to be calling like this.” 

“Or it’s Doyoung calling to ask if I’m done packing.” 

“Just go answer it,” Jaehyun said. He pulled out and Taeyong sighed. 

“He’s going to request a full inventory of everything I’m bringing on the trip,” Taeyong grumbled, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and stumbling towards his jeans. “Just you wait.” He snatched up his phone just before it went to voicemail. “Hello?” 

“Taeyong! Are you done packing?” 

Taeyong put his phone on speaker and gave Jaehyun a very dirty look. “Doyoung, with all due respect, what is wrong with you?” 

“What? This is important! We’re leaving tomorrow. We’ve only been waiting for the senior trip our entire lives.” 

“I haven’t been,” Jaehyun said, raising his voice to be heard from the bed. 

“Oh, right,” said Doyoung. “Hi, Jaehyun.” 

“Since this isn’t an emergency,” Taeyong said, walking back over to sit on the bed, “I’m going to hang up now.” 

“This is an emergency!” Doyoung yelped. “What if—” 

Taeyong hung up. “I’m gonna kill him.” 

Jaehyun laughed and took Taeyong’s phone out of his hand, pushing him back down onto the bed. “We still have time.” 

“I’m blocking his number,” Taeyong said. “I mean it.” 

“Okay, baby,” Jaehyun said, “Sure.” 

In the last month Taeyong had given up on asking Jaehyun to stop calling him baby, though he still refused to admit he liked it, and still forbade him from calling him anything other than his name when people were around. Jaehyun, for his part, kept trying to get Taeyong to call him Jae at all times, but this Taeyong also saved for special occasions. This was less a matter of pride and more one of practicality, though, because Jaehyun had developed a sort of Pavlovian response to the nickname where whenever Taeyong said it he flushed and became obviously aroused. Taeyong used this power sparingly. 

Jaehyun had rolled Taeyong over onto his stomach and was kissing over his shoulderblades, grinding against his ass.

“What are you doing,” Taeyong said, a little breathless with Jaehyun’s weight on his back. “Just put it back in.” 

“You have no appreciation for foreplay,” Jaehyun murmured. 

“What do you mean foreplay,” Taeyong said. “You were already fucking me.” 

“Mmph,” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong felt him shiver. “That sounded hot.”

Taeyong smiled into the sheets. “You’re so easy,” he said. “Jae.” Jaehyun made a soft helpless sound into his skin and Taeyong smiled wider, dropping his voice. “Come on. I want you inside me again, Jae. Please.” 

“Fuck,” Jaehyun gasped, and Taeyong felt him reach down between them. He tilted his hips up and moaned as Jaehyun finally slid back inside him, easily now. “Fuck, you’re so….” 

“Yeah,” Taeyong hummed. He reached over his shoulder and slid his hand around the back of Jaehyun’s neck, turning to kiss him messily. Jaehyun moved faster and Taeyong lifted his hips up to meet him. They were good at this by now, they knew what they liked and how to get there together. Jaehyun’s hands were tight on his waist, forcing him down into the mattress. Taeyong could feel the liquid heat building under his skin and knew he would come soon, knew he would come without having to do anything more than this, without having to touch himself. “Fuck, Jae, yes, just like that.” He moaned encouragingly, desperate for Jaehyun not to change anything he was doing. “I’m gonna come just like this. You’re so good, Jae, you’re so fucking good.” 

Jaehyun made an unintelligible noise into Taeyong’s shoulder. His thrusts were becoming erratic and Taeyong knew he wouldn’t last much longer. The sheets against his face smelled like Jaehyun’s body wash tinged with their mingled sweat, heady and familiar and overwhelming. Jaehyun wrapped his arm suddenly around Taeyong’s shoulders, and Taeyong turned his face into the crook of Jaehyun’s elbow and the scent of his skin made his head swim with desire and ecstasy. He squeezed his eyes shut as he came, the orgasm shattering through him and surpassing his consciousness for a moment or a million moments or an eternity. 

When he was aware of his body again, he realized he had bitten into Jaehyun’s arm, the clear mark of his teeth darkening under a sheen of spit. “S-sorry,” he said, then nearly bit him again at the sensation of Jaehyun’s cock sliding out of his overly sensitive body, and the hot flood of come sliding down his thighs. 

“For what?” Jaehyun asked. He rolled off Taeyong and collapsed on his back next to him. “Oh.” He lifted his arm and examined it. “Wow.” 

Taeyong folded his own arms under his face and looked at Jaehyun. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing Jaehyun like this. He was always beautiful, but there was something about these moments right after he came, a lightness in his eyes, the exertion still clear in the flush of his skin and the glow of sweat and the rise and fall of his chest. Looking at him for too long like this nearly always made Taeyong want to do it all over again. 

“Wait,” he said, lifting himself up and fumbling for his phone, now within reach on Jaehyun’s bedside table. He swiped open the camera. 

“Again? You have so many compromising photos of me at this point I’m starting to think I should be worried.”

Taeyong just smiled, and took the picture. It was the middle of the afternoon on a Tuesday. They’d taken their last finals just that morning, and then seniors had a half-day, supposedly so they could prepare for the trip that they’d be leaving on the following morning. The weather could not have been more perfect (they would definitely be able to go swimming at the lake). The afternoon sunlight stretched over Jaehyun’s bare skin, catching every glimmer of sweat, and the more obscene wetness between his legs, turning him a bright, pale gold flushed through with pink. Even his eyes, usually dark and deep, looked golden with the way the light caught in his irises. Taeyong looked at Jaehyun before him, stretched lazily over the sheets, one arm behind his head and the other, the bitten one, held up above his face, and he looked at Jaehyun captured in his phone screen, a little dazed at the sight. 

“How’d it come out?” Jaehyun asked. He lowered his bitten arm to his face and then, after a brief contemplation, licked over the mark. 

“What are you doing?” Taeyong said. Jaehyun just looked at him as though he hadn’t done anything strange. Taeyong raised an eyebrow but leaned over to show Jaehyun the picture. 

“You always make me look so good,” Jaehyun said. “Maybe you should become a photographer.” 

“You look good because you look good,” Taeyong said. “Stop pretending to be humble.” 

Jaehyun grinned widely, pleased, even though Taeyong told him something along these lines every time he took his picture, and plenty of other times besides. “Say I’m pretty,” Jaehyun said, his dimples deepening in his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Taeyong said, laughing. “You’re pretty.” 

Jaehyun rolled over and squeezed him clumsily against his chest. “So are you, baby. The prettiest.” 

“Mm,” Taeyong said. “You know, we really should probably pack.” 

“So Doyoung got to you after all,” Jaehyun said.

“He does tend to be right about most things, unfortunately,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun laughed but didn’t let go of him, and Taeyong made no effort to escape. 

~~

It was not even eight o’clock in the morning, and the bus which Taeyong had expected to be full of half-asleep teenagers like himself was rowdy and loud, with kids hanging all over their seats and yelling happily to each other. Taeyong had been hoping to catch up on sleep during the three-hour ride, since he hadn’t gotten home until late the night before, and then had still had to pack. He had watched Jaehyun spend less than ten minutes throwing a heap of clothes into a duffle bag, but he just wasn’t capable of leaving even so much as a pair of boxers unfolded in his own bag, so when he finally got home it took him a lot more than ten minutes to get his own things together. He almost wished Doyoung had still been awake to talk him through his checklist over the phone, but his pride prevented him from calling him. It didn’t help that he’d gotten home completely exhausted not only because it was past midnight, but also because by the time he’d finally dragged himself out of Jaehyun’s bed they’d had sex two more times, plus Jaehyun had followed him into the shower afterwards to give him a blowjob that Taeyong could barely enjoy with how hard he had to concentrate to stay standing. Not that Jaehyun didn’t still manage to make him come again, even after all that. 

Now he was tired and distinctly sore on the hard bus seat. It didn’t help that every bump and pothole in the road jolted right through the old metal frame of the bus. He pulled his legs up to his chest and tried to shift some of his weight onto his feet instead. 

“You okay?” Jaehyun turned away from where he’d been absorbed in an unnecessarily loud conversation with Yuta and Doyoung across the aisle. 

“I’m fine,” Taeyong said stiffly. “Since when are you such a morning person?” 

Jaehyun grinned. “Haven’t you guys been trying to convince me of how exciting this trip will be for months? Guess you got to me after all.”

The bus went over a rut in the road that nearly tossed Taeyong clear out the window. He winced as he landed back in the seat. Jaehyun’s smile was quickly replaced by a look of concern, and Taeyong directed a meaningful look at him just as he opened his mouth to–probably very loudly–ask him what hurt. 

“Oh,” Jaehyun said, catching Taeyong’s look and going very red. “Oh, shit.” 

“Don’t look so pleased with yourself,” Taeyong grumbled, slouching lower in the seat. 

Jaehyun’s dimples flickered in his cheeks as he tried not to smile again. “If I remember correctly,” he whispered, “you were the one who kept wanting to go again.” 

This was more or less true, though it wasn’t exactly fair when Jaehyun wouldn’t stop touching him, which was bound to make Taeyong want more sooner or later. But he knew that a lot of Jaehyun’s touches really weren’t about sex in any conscious way. Jaehyun just liked touching him, all the time–even now, his fingers were curled loosely around Taeyong’s bicep, under the sleeve of his t-shirt. It seemed like it had become automatic, which was sweet, really, and it wasn’t Jaehyun’s fault if even the most careless touches sent sparks of heat shooting through Taeyong’s body. So Taeyong decided not to argue the point.

“What are you two whispering about?” Yuta’s voice carried over the bus seats. 

“None of your business, obviously,” Jaehyun said, with an easy smirk, “Or we wouldn’t be whispering, would we?” 

Yuta rolled his eyes, and the chatter on the bus returned to its previous volume and Jaehyun was quickly absorbed back into it. Taeyong didn’t mind, really, now that he’d given up on getting any sleep. The noise was familiar, the voices of kids he’d grown up with and gone to school with for years, and it struck him suddenly that soon he’d be leaving and would, for the first time in his life, be surrounded by people he didn’t know. A nervous thrill went through him like a spasm and he pushed the thought out of his mind. He hadn’t even graduated; he didn’t have to worry about any of that yet. He leaned against Jaehyun’s shoulder, and Jaehyun shifted and put his arm around him without breaking the flow of his conversation with the other kids. The debate seemed to revolve around cafeteria food–Jaehyun was assuring them passionately that the food at his old school was nearly inedible, and the other kids were flatly refusing to believe it could be worse than the school food in River’s Bend. Jaehyun was a very good buffer, lively enough that no one tried to drag Taeyong into the debate, and he listened from under the warm weight of Jaehyun’s arm, and found that despite the sleep deprivation and the soreness in his body, he was actually very content. 

~~

The first hour after they arrived at the camp was a whirlwind of instructions, cabin assignments, rules, and generally chaperones trying valiantly to be heard over the excited chatter of a couple hundred students who were old enough to take care of themselves but young enough to wholeheartedly enjoy a few days in the woods without any real burden of responsibility. 

Jaehyun, Doyoung, and Taeyong, thanks to their alphabetically ordered last names, all ended up assigned to cabin 6. Taeyong was pretty certain that when the assignments were being read out Yuta had missed the cutoff and been assigned somewhere else, but as everyone headed off towards the cabins Yuta was with them, and only winked when Jaehyun questioned him about it. From the number of kids who appeared in cabin 6 with last names decidedly far away from Taeyong’s own, he figured Yuta wasn’t the only one who’d managed to trade with someone, and no one seemed particularly concerned as long as every kid still ended up with a bed. The cabins were scattered through the trees around the lake, and as they approached Taeyong caught bright glints of water and sun through the branches. The trees were huge and old and the ground was soft and springy underfoot. Even with so many kids running around, there was a sort of hush under the trees. The laughter and shouts were all still audible but they took on a sort of distant, gentle quality that was somehow more peaceful than complete silence.

The cabins were weather-worn and blended into the trees, except for the freshly painted numbered signs above their doors. Cabin 6 was the farthest one, closest to the lake, though it was not the part of the lake where you were supposed to actually swim. The main shore had lifeguards, as well as boats and a long dock. Cabin 6 just had trees clinging desperately to the dirt and rocks at the edge of the water. The cabins were all long and narrow, and inside the space was only occupied by rows of bunks, ten along each wall. The bunks were quickly strewn with the belongings of twenty boys trying to claim whichever bed they determined was the best one. Jaehyun tossed his bag onto one of the bottom bunks at the far end of the row, then grabbed Taeyong’s bag and threw it up on the bunk above. 

“Why do you get the bottom bunk?” Taeyong asked. 

Jaehyun looked at him blankly. “You’re smaller.” 

“I’m not that small,” Taeyong said indignantly. This was a frequent battle between them and he was pretty sure Jaehyun usually mentioned it just to rile Taeyong up. 

“Yes, you are,” Jaehyun said, smiling widely. He reached for Taeyong, who jumped out of the way. 

“Get away from me,” he yelped, but Jaehyun grabbed him around the legs and lifted him up. Taeyong had to grab his shoulders to keep from toppling right over. “Fuck you, put me down!” 

Jaehyun heaved Taeyong up, and up, until he finally tossed him the last few inches onto the top bunk. Taeyong landed on the edge of the low rail that was probably meant to be a safety measure but instead just bruised the backs of his thighs and almost made him fall right back down to the floor again. He scrambled for balance and managed to tumble backwards onto the mattress. 

“You’re the fucking worst,” he said, his face very hot. At least the cabin was filled with enough horsing around and shouting that no one had really noticed the indignity he’d just suffered.

Jaehyun was grinning brightly up at him, unbothered as usual. His dimples were almost cute enough to cut through Taeyong’s irritation. 

“Aw, you know you love me,” Jaehyun said.

“Not so much at the moment,” Taeyong muttered, but he flopped down onto his back and put his arms behind his head in what he hoped was a composed manner. 

Doyoung had scored a bottom bunk near the middle of the cabin, because Yuta was clearly a much more considerate boyfriend, and the two of them were already changing into their bathing suits. Taeyong swung himself down from the bunk and pulled out his own neatly folded bathing suit and towel from his bag, while Jaehyun rummaged around in his own bag, tossing a heap of shirts and shorts onto the mattress as he searched. Taeyong rolled his eyes and started to change. 

Jaehyun straightened suddenly. “What are you doing?” 

Taeyong looked at him, his thumbs hooked into the waistband of his boxers. He looked down at himself to check if he was doing anything strange, but everything looked normal to him, and considering half the kids around them were changing or had already changed he wasn’t sure what Jaehyun could possibly be confused about. 

“You’re just going to get naked, right here?” Jaehyun asked in a low, urgent voice. 

“I’m not getting naked, I’m changing. Like literally everyone else. Like you’re about to.”

Jaehyun frowned. “Change back there,” he said, gesturing to the narrow space between the bunk and the wall. 

“No way,” Taeyong said, eyeing it. There were spiderwebs clinging to the old wooden beams.

“Then—” Jaehyun grabbed Taeyong’s towel and made to hold it up, but Taeyong grabbed it back out of his hands, laughing. 

“Oh my god, are you worried about someone seeing me? In the single second before I pull my bathing suit on?” He couldn’t stop giggling at Jaehyun’s put-out expression. “Don’t be weird. No one’s looking. And if they are it’s only because now you’re making a big deal of it.” 

Jaehyun scowled, his cheeks pink, but he tossed the towel back on the bunk. Taeyong shed his boxers and pulled his bathing suit on in peace, and as far as he could tell totally unnoticed by anyone else. He was still laughing, though he stopped when Jaehyun pulled off his own shorts. Taeyong stepped forward gave Jaehyun’s bare ass a gentle pat. “Stop making up things to worry about,” he said into Jaehyun’s ear, and dug his fingers in a little. “You’re the only one who gets to look at me. And you can look,” he leaned closer and let his lips brush against Jaheyun’s ear, “as much as you want.” 

Jaehyun hissed and yanked his bathing suit up quickly. Taeyong pulled his hand away and laughed affectionately as he headed towards the door. 

Before being free to swim, everyone was shepherded to the dining hall, a large building on the edge of a wide expanse of sports fields. The food they served for lunch was, everyone agreed, better than the usual school fare. But maybe it was just that this lunch preceded an afternoon spent outside instead of an afternoon of classes. The sun beamed in through the large screened-in windows, along with air that already felt as warm as summer, and everyone was eager to get back outside, though first there was another series of announcements–namely, that not everyone could rush to the lake at the same time; instead the cabins would rotate through different activities throughout the afternoon. 

“Of course they’d insist on filling this trip up with rules and schedules,” Yuta said. “This is feeling too much like school.” 

Doyoung rolled his eyes. “Yeah, except all the classes are things you like doing.” 

Yuta leaned towards him, smirking in a way that made Taeyong worry about what he was going to say next. 

“I like doing you,” Yuta said, not quietly. “When’s that class?” 

Doyoung shoved him away, but he was blushing. Jaehyun made a puking noise. 

~~

Four hours later, the students from cabin 6 and cabin 3, who’d been rotating through the afternoon activities together, reluctantly trudged up the narrow strip of sand from the lake and made their way back toward the cabins. They’d been the last group to get to swim, and Taeyong could feel the sunburn tingling across his nose and the back of his neck from spending the hottest hours of the afternoon out in the shadeless fields. But the wait had been worth it: diving off the dock and submerging his sticky, dusty skin in the fresh water, still cold in late spring, had been truly exquisite. Now his limbs felt cool and loose, and pleasantly fatigued. With how tired he’d already been that morning, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to stay awake much longer. 

There was an hour before dinner and they were being left to their own devices to clean themselves up spend the time however else they wanted. Taeyong eyed his bunk back in the cabin; it was a testament to his exhaustion that the thin, narrow mattress up near the cobwebby ceiling could look so tempting. But instead he grabbed a clean pair of shorts and his shampoo from his bag and shuffled off towards the door. 

“Where are you going?” Jaehyun called after him, distracted from a conversation that Taeyong had barely noticed was happening. 

“Shower,” Taeyong said, holding up his shampoo. “If I stop moving I think I’ll fall asleep.” He turned and pushed through the door. 

A moment later hurried footsteps alerted him to Jaehyun’s presence beside him. He was also holding a change a clothes. “Can I borrow your shampoo?” he asked. “I forgot mine.” 

“It’s a miracle you remembered anything at all, with the way you packed,” Taeyong said, but there wasn’t any bite in his sleepy voice. 

“Aw, I just knew you’d have everything I could possibly need.” Jaehyun knocked his shoulder gently against Taeyong’s, but then had to hurriedly catch him when he stumbled off course and nearly tripped over the roots at the edge of the path. “Jeez, are you okay?” 

Taeyong smiled. He did feel, in fact, extremely okay. “Just tired.” 

Jaehyun pushed open the swinging screen door of the bathrooms, a huge concrete building filled with sinks, bathroom stalls, and two long rows of showers behind plastic curtains. Running water and boys’ voices echoed through the space. Taeyong drifted down the row to a shower at the end, and Jaehyun tried to follow him in. 

Taeyong pushed him out again, laughing and making a face as they got slightly tangled in the damp curtain. He expected Jaehyun to laugh and back off to take a separate stall without a fight, but instead Jaehyun pushed back and tried again to step into the stall. “What are you doing? Get out of here.” Taeyong tried to dig his heels in and push his weight against Jaehyun’s chest, making a show of it in a way he knew Jaehyun would find funny. But he caught sight of Jaehyun’s expression and stopped. “What?” 

Jaehyun looked down at him with a pained look that Taeyong didn’t think he’d ever seen on his face before, though he thought he recognized it as an expression he’d made himself more than once. Jaehyun pushed determinedly forward and the curtain dropped behind him. “Let me shower with you,” he said. His voice was low, but not low enough–it still echoed off the walls. 

“Are you crazy?” Taeyong was feeling considerably more awake. “There are people around. Not just people. Kids we go to school with.”

Jaehyun ignored him and kissed him. Taeyong made a sound that, he was disappointed to hear, could only be described as a squeak. He pushed Jaehyun away, and Jaehyun gave him that look again. “I’ve been going crazy since you touched me earlier,” he said.

“Touched you?” 

“When we were changing.” 

It took Taeyong a minute to remember what Jaehyun was talking about. He raised his eyebrows. “I didn’t know that got you so riled up.” 

Jaehyun kissed him again, and slipped his hands down the back of Taeyong’s bathing suit. Taeyong could feel his skin heat, the way it always did, but he could also hear voices and laughter very close by, and he could see the curtain behind Jaehyun, hanging not fully closed. He pushed Jaehyun away and stepped back. “Jaehyun, stop. Not here.” 

“Then where?” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong felt a little bad for enjoying how it felt to have Jaehyun look at him this way. He really had not noticed, all afternoon, that Jaehyun had been feeling any more desire for him than usual. Jaehyun still found excuses to touch him, but it was all totally ordinary–high-fives and his arm around Taeyong’s shoulders or his head in his lap when they took a break in the shade; picking him up and jumping off the dock at the lake, wrestling him in the water, skin slippery and cool. It had all been only slightly more affectionate than the ways any of the kids around them might touch each other in the exuberance of a summery day, and it had certainly not betrayed the arousal that Taeyong could see now in Jaehyun’s eyes, and had felt, briefly, hard against his hip when Jaehyun kissed him. There was something very satisfying about looking back at the past few hours, which he had thoroughly and very innocently enjoyed, and realizing that Jaehyun had been wanting him so badly the entire time. He was not used to being the one who was oblivious to sexual tension. But the fact remained that he did not actually want to act on that tension in this cramped bathroom stall surrounded by their classmates.

“Nowhere. Jaehyun, we can’t. We’re basically at school.” 

“We’re not at school. We’re nowhere near school.” Jaehyun stepped closer again, his hands hot and slightly sticky on Taeyong’s waist. 

“Okay, okay, but either way. I literally can’t. Not after last night.” Taeyong looked at Jaehyun significantly, and fought very hard to keep himself from smiling when Jaehyun’s face crumpled into something like agony. 

“Why would you remind me of that,” Jaehyun groaned. “Why would you remind me of last night when I’m already this desperate.”  

“I’m not trying to mess with you,” Taeyong said. “I really am sore.”

“Okay,” Jaehyun said. “Then do you want to do it to me?” 

“What?” 

“You can fuck me instead.” 

“Oh my god, no,” Taeyong said, so surprised he took a step backwards. His feet landed in the cold inch of water that wouldn’t fully drain through the grate in the floor.

“You don’t want to?” 

“No,” Taeyong said. “I mean, maybe, someday. But your first time, here in a shower of questionable cleanliness with half our class running around? Do you even know what you’re asking?” 

“I don’t know. I’ve never been this turned on in my life,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong laughed before he could stop himself. “That can’t possibly be true.” 

“I’m not gonna make it,” Jaehyun said. “I’m gonna die if I can’t—” 

Taeyong turned Jaehyun around firmly by the shoulders and pushed him out through the curtain. “I never knew you could be so dramatic,” he said. 

“Please,” Jaehyun said. He still looked anguished but his dimple was flickering in his cheek now. 

“Go take a shower,” Taeyong said. “You’ll be fine.” Jaehyun looked back over his shoulder again, as though he wanted to keep arguing. “And you probably shouldn’t stand out there like that, with everyone around.” Taeyong glanced down at the obvious bulge in Jaehyun’s trunks. Jaehyun sighed and went into the next stall, yanking the curtain closed so roughly that it tore cleanly off two of its rings. 

Taeyong turned on his own shower, took off his bathing suit and ducked under the stream of water. The pressure was surprisingly good, and the water wasn’t too cold, but he didn’t want to linger. Partly because he wasn’t convinced Jaehyun wouldn’t try to sneak back into his stall. He sudsed up his hair. 

“Hey, do you still need shampoo?” he called. Jaehyun didn’t answer, but over the top of the stall divider Taeyong could see that his shower was running too. “Hey, Jaehyun,” he called a little louder. 

“Yeah, in a sec,” Jaehyun said. His voice sounded strained. 

Taeyong stared at the divider for a moment, as though he might be able to see through it. “Are you…?” 

“What do you think?” 

Taeyong cheeks flushed suddenly very hot. It hadn’t been hard to push Jaehyun away, because the thought of getting caught did not excite him at all, and because his body really felt so drained, not only from their exertions the night before but also from the entire day, that he genuinely wasn’t in the mood to fool around. But the thought of Jaehyun touching himself now in the next stall over–touching himself because of him –was thrilling. He leaned closer to the barrier between them, and could hear, under the sound of the water, Jaehyun’s roughened breaths, and a splashy sound that might just have been the shower but might, Taeyong hoped, have been the sound of Jaehyun’s hand as he stroked himself. 

“Wow,” he said, low, through the barrier. 

“Are you seriously,” Jaehyun panted, “enjoying this? After you wouldn’t let me touch you?” 

“Yes,” Taeyong breathed, “I am.” 

Jaehyun groaned. Taeyong put his hand on the wall between them and leaned closer. He could definitely hear the movement of Jaehyun’s hand now, fast and wet, and his breaths were mixed with whimpers and grunts. 

“Be quieter,” Taeyong said. “Someone will hear you.” 

“No one’s gonna hear me,” Jaehyun said, “except you. Fuck.” 

“Are you thinking about me?” 

“Shut up,” Jaehyun said roughly. 

“Do you really want me to?” Taeyong asked, sincerely. 

“I want you to come over here and touch me yourself,” Jaehyun said. 

“But this is ridiculously hot,” said Taeyong. 

Jaehyun made a frustrated sound, slightly muffled. Taeyong wondered if he was biting his lip. He could nearly see him, his teeth digging into his full bottom lip, the water running down his face and into his mouth and off his chin. 

“Are you close?” 

“I’ve been close all day.” 

“I want to hear you come,” Taeyong said, quietly, his face very close now to the plastic wall. 

“I thought,” gasped Jaehyun, “I was supposed to be quiet. Oh, fuck. Fuck .” His breath caught, suddenly, and then, a full minute later, burst out again in a gasp. Taeyong put his forehead against the wall and listened to Jaehyun draw deep, shaking breaths, again and again, until the rhythm and volume of his breathing finally returned to normal. 

“Give me your shampoo,” Jaehyun said hoarsely. 

Taeyong did, stretching to hand the bottle over the top of the barrier. He listened for a moment to the soapy sounds of Jaehyun shampooing his hair and rinsing off. There was a metallic squeak, and the water from Jaehyun’s showerhead stopped flowing. Taeyong heard the rustling of a towel across his skin. 

“Jaehyun?” 

“What?” 

“I love you,” Taeyong said. 

There was a pause, and then Jaehyun snorted. “You’re just feeling guilty for getting off on my misery,” he said.

“That didn’t sound like misery,” said Taeyong. 

“Hmph,” Jaehyun grunted. “I love you too, baby. Are you done in there? I’m starving.” 

~~~~~

Jaehyun listened to the rustling and breathing and a few quiet snores from the nineteen boys sleeping around him. He had no idea what time it was but he thought he was the only one still awake. Taeyong, at least, was definitely asleep on the bunk below him–Jaehyun had ended up sleeping in the top bunk after all. He strained to pick Taeyong’s breathing out of the soft cacophony of other breaths that filled the cabin, but he didn’t think he could. Taeyong always slept very quietly, and usually stayed very still. This was something Jaehyun loved, because it meant that when Taeyong fell sleep with his head on Jaehyun’s chest or his body tucked snugly into Jaehyun’s arms, he’d stay that way the entire night. But right now Jaehyun wished for even so much as a creak of the old wooden bed frame to indicate Taeyong’s presence. He rolled over onto his side, staring out at the unfamiliar shapes of shadow and moonlight that stretched away from him in the dark cabin. The bed frame creaked with his own movement, but Taeyong didn’t stir. Jaehyun sighed. At least, after the shower earlier, he wasn’t quite as restless as before.

He couldn’t begrudge Taeyong his sleep, especially not when he was partly responsible for his exhaustion. Earlier, Taeyong had fallen asleep right at the table during dinner and stayed asleep, undisturbed even by the shouts and laughter of the entire senior class around them, his cheek squished against his arms and his mouth slightly open. It was so adorable Jaehyun’s stomach actually hurt when he looked at him and he’d ended up missing all the trip leader’s announcements about the activities for the following day because he was too busy debating with himself whether touching Taeyong’s hair or his ear or his shoulder might wake him up. He somehow managed to hold back, which ended up being worth it when Taeyong sleepily allowed him to give him a piggy-back ride back to the cabin after dinner. He walked back to the cabin as slowly as possible, with Taeyong’s warm cheek against his shoulder and his soft hair tickling his neck, and when they got there he maneuvered Taeyong as gently as he could onto the bottom bunk. It took a supreme effort to stop himself from curling up right next to him. Instead, he left with the other kids to go roast marshmallows at the fire pit down by the lake, and when he came back he climbed dutifully up to the top bunk and tried his best to sleep.

Which was what he was still trying to do, hours later. The woods around them were quiet but not silent, and the window screens let in all the unfamiliar sounds, animals he didn’t recognize and breezes shifting through things that grew out of the earth. He closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that the noises were peaceful, that they were a lullaby. Instead he found himself remembering the only camping trip he’d ever been on, when he was nine. His father had planned it and they’d driven for what felt like an eternity to woods that seemed enormous and wild and untouched to Jaehyun, though in reality the campsite was only a couple hours outside the city. Haru came with them, and they stayed in a tent, and this made it a significant adventure no matter how close they really were to home. Jaehyun’s clearest memory of the trip was of waking late the second night to the sound of rain drumming deafeningly on the top of their tent. He had never heard rain so loud before–he lived in an apartment and was more used to hearing the upstairs neighbors above his head than a rainstorm–and it scared him in a deep and visceral way. He remembered staring at his father’s sleeping face and wanting to wake him up,  but he was already nine, and did not want to admit he was scared of rain. Then he heard Haru whispering his name. When he turned Haru said, “Necklace,” and after a confused moment Jaehyun realized that he was continuing the word game they’d played in the car the day before. He tried to think of a word that started with E that had not already been said, which was a challenge, since E came up constantly in the game and they had played for at least an entire hour of the ride. He finally came up with “Emu,” which he still remembered because Haru had given him a theatrical scowl at being given a U. He didn’t recall any of the other words they thought of that night, before he drifted back off to sleep under the rain, but he remembered whispering, and laughing, and the way being awake at a dark and unknown hour with his best friend still held such a thrill at that age. 

Jaehyun opened his eyes and found they were wet. He had remembered that night hundreds of times since it had happened, and it had always retained a sort of perfect, mystical quality in his thoughts. When he got a little older, it seemed obvious to him that Haru must have picked up on Jaehyun’s fear, and resumed their game as a distraction. It felt like evidence of how well Haru had known him and how much he cared for him, that he knew a perfect way to make him feel better without even mentioning Jaehyun’s childish fear at all. It had always been a comforting memory, and like a lot of his comforting memories of Haru, he had carefully avoided thinking of it in the past year. He pressed the back of his wrist to his eyes and tried to keep his breaths from catching. This was probably the first time he’d let himself play through the whole memory, and it hurt. But what he had been afraid of–that all his happy memories from before would be written over by the pain of now and lost to him forever–did not seem to have happened. He didn’t feel exactly reassured–he was, after all, now fighting a losing battle against his tears in a room full of other kids, only one of whom he would ever want to cry in front of. But he also didn’t feel like he couldn’t survive the pain of thinking his thoughts, of thinking about Haru. The memory hurt and yet also felt comforting, the way it always had; it made him cry but it had been a special moment to him as a child and it still felt special. He knew exactly what Sooyoung would say when he told her: That’s not nothing. 

It especially wasn’t nothing when he woke up the next morning and felt… totally fine. Some of this was probably just the luck of waking up in a cabin filled with sun and birdsong and the sleepy but generally happy voices of a large number of other people. But a year ago he knew his surroundings wouldn’t have mattered at all, wouldn’t have even penetrated the fog he’d sometimes end up in. And he didn’t think that was all it was anyway. He just felt okay. 

The activity that he’d missed hearing about at dinner the night before turned out to be a hike up a mountain a little ways north of the lake. It felt good to be outside, and it felt good to strain a bit on the steepest parts of the path, and most of all it felt good to be surrounded by his friends as he went. Maybe he was feeling a bit more sentimental than usual that morning, but he wasn’t sure it had anything to do with his thoughts the night before. Everyone seemed to be suffering from a mix of excitement and premature nostalgia on this year-end trip, as though they were already aware of their future selves looking back on these moments at the end of high school and remembering them fondly. At the top of the mountain the trees fell away and there were large stretches of bare rock, hot in the sun, and a spectacular view of the lake and the woods. It seemed possible, though Jaehyun knew it wasn’t, that they might see all the way to River’s Bend somewhere in the expanse below. It felt like the first time that he’d thought of the town as his, as much as everyone else’s. 

As the day wore on–more games, more team-building, more swimming in the lake–the nerves of the upcoming talent show started kicking in. Jaehyun was a little surprised, though he shouldn’t have been. He’d always gotten butterflies before his piano recitals, although he liked performing and liked the rush of being on stage. He’d just thought that might have changed after the year he’d had. He had experienced one of the worst things, and felt the worst feelings, and thought it should have made him immune to something silly like nerves about performing in a band that he knew was good in front of students he knew would love them. But apparently that wasn’t how things worked, and he did still feel nervous. 

Mark showed up at dinner, looking excited and awkward, ducking his head and laughing sheepishly any time a senior recognized him and asked what he was doing there. All the greetings were friendly, even if the seniors put on a bit of a show of their surprise or teased him about crashing the trip as a lowly sophomore. Mark was clearly popular, which Jaehyun wasn’t surprised by–he was the sort of kid who was basically impossible to dislike. He squeezed in at their table, next to Yuta, who ruffled his hair and looked very proud to be the reason for Mark’s appearance. Taeyong, who was like a different person today after sleeping nearly twelve hours the night before, asked him how the drive was.

“Oh, fine,” Mark said. “The roads were pretty empty.” 

“Wasn’t this your first time on the highway?” Yuta teased. Mark had only gotten his license a couple months ago. 

Mark grinned. “Don’t give me shit,” he said. “I’m the only other person here who can even drive.” 

“I can drive,” Jaehyun said, confused. He turned to Taeyong. “Can’t you?” 

Yuta burst out laughing. “Why do you think Taeyong’s always on a bicycle?” 

Taeyong went pink and Jaehyun had to hold himself back from kissing him on the cheek or maybe biting him. 

“You’re always on a bike too,” Taeyong said to Jaehyun, clearly trying to preempt any kissing or biting or teasing of any kind. 

Jaehyun shrugged. “I just don’t have a car.” 

“Well, it’s not just me,” Taeyong said, gesturing at Doyoung. 

“Why do you think I started dating Yuta?” Doyoung said easily. “He can drive and has a car.” 

“Wow,” said Jaehyun, while Taeyong snorted and Mark giggled, though at least he looked a little apologetic as he did. Yuta, for his part, looked entirely unbothered, as though the possibility that Doyoung was dating him for his chauffeur services was completely acceptable to him. 

There was a commotion up at the front of the dining hall, and then the trip leader quieted them down and announced that after dinner was cleared up they should head over to a building that was called The Barn, though it was not actually a barn and didn’t even look much like a barn–but it was large and made of wood and used at the summer camp for any event other than meals that required everyone to gather in one indoor place. 

Jaehyun and Yuta had to go change their clothes first–as Yuta stated grandly, he would not make his debut performance wearing swim trunks and a sweaty basketball jersey–so Taeyong, Mark, and Doyoung handled all their dishes. Jaehyun was about to follow Yuta out of the dining hall when he felt a cool hand on his wrist and turned back. He was startled when Taeyong went up on his toes and kissed him gently on the mouth. 

“Oh,” Jaehyun said, forgetting for a moment where he had been going. 

“Good luck,” Taeyong said, with a smile that looked almost shy. “I can’t wait. Everyone’s gonna love you guys.” 

“T-thanks,” Jaehyun said. He felt strangely undone, and then silly for letting such a brief and simple kiss undo him. 

“You should hurry,” Taeyong said. “I’ll see you over there.” 

“Right,” Jaehyun said. He grinned, a ridiculously warm feeling filling his chest suddenly, now that his mind had apparently caught up to what was happening. “See you.” He turned and ran after Yuta. 

A half-hour later, he, Yuta, and Mark were standing in the dim area that served for backstage in The Barn. The place did have a stage built up at one end, and was actually better-equipped for a show than Jaehyun had expected. Most of the space was filled with long wooden picnic benches in rows, now crowded with all their classmates, talking excitedly before the showcase started. The insides of the walls were scrawled with paint, the brightly-colored titles of what must have been all the shows that the campers put on here, surrounded by names and cheerful messages and inside jokes and dates. The paint was mostly clumsily done, and the messages were mostly generic and cliche, but Jaehyun found the overall effect encouraging, the evidence of so many other kids performing before him. The dates on the walls went back to before Jaehyun was born. 

A girl from their class went up the few steps to the stage and the audience quieted as she started to speak, announcing the event and then the first act, which was a dance performance. Jaehyun couldn’t see much from where they stood but he could hear the audience singing along to the song, and cheering and whistling at various moments when the choreography must have been especially impressive. 

He, Yuta, and Mark were last in the lineup, which was probably flattering but also burdensome because Jaehyun was stuck with his nerves for the entire showcase and couldn’t fully appreciate the other acts. There were all sorts of performances: quite a number of songs and dances, a few skits, a stand-up comedy routine, a magician, a gymnast, an unexpectedly stunning violin performance by one of Yuta’s teammates. 

Finally the girl who was MCing returned to the stage and announced, “Next up is our last performance for this evening, What You Needed!” 

The audience erupted into cheers. Thanks mostly to Yuta’s enthusiastic promoting ever since he finally settled on a name for their band that he was satisfied with–promoting that consisted mostly of yelling in the hallways between classes–everyone knew by now who What You Needed were. Jaehyun’s stomach lurched, the specific sensation he remembered from before, like he might throw up but it somehow wouldn’t feel unpleasant if he did. He considered the possibility that he had, in fact, missed this. 

They climbed the steps and walked out on stage and their classmates cheered louder. Jaehyun thought he heard a distinct pocket of deep-voiced noise that must have been the basketball team. They found their spots and made some adjustments, and then Yuta leaned forward and spoke into the mic. 

“Hey, as you already know, we’re What You Needed! What’s up?” 

The crowd screamed. Jaehyun fumbled with the slightly tangled cables around his feet and squinted out at the audience. The stage wasn’t particularly well lit, but the few lights there were were bright and angled right into his eyes. He couldn’t make anyone out in the crowd. He wasn’t sure if it would have made him feel better or more nervous to be able to see Taeyong’s face. 

“So we’re gonna play a couple songs for you all today,” Yuta was saying, clearly getting into it. “These are What You Needed originals and this is the first time they’re ever being performed. This is for you , so you better go fucking crazy!” Jaehyun glanced at the teachers standing off to the side, but they mostly looked amused. “This first song’s called How It Is, written by everyone’s favorite city boy Jaehyun here on keyboard!” Yuta said, angling his face so his mouth was still near the mic but he was now looking over at Jaehyun and Mark. “And we’ve got our very own little prodigy Mark on the drums, and you all know who I am–” more cheers– “so let’s go!” He grinned, and Jaehyun found himself smiling back, and then Yuta played the opening chord. 

Jaehyun’s nerves disappeared as soon as his fingers found their first notes. He knew the songs by heart and by muscle by now; he had no idea what he’d been nervous about. The outdated amps swelled the noise up into the eaves and out to the heavy wooden doors at the other end of The Barn, drowning out even the crowd, but he could feel them anyway. It was intoxicating, and he knew that everyone watching them was just as intoxicated, by the noise, by the particular fatigue of a long day in the sun, by the comfort of being surrounded by familiar people in an environment that was new. By all their unknown futures. 

They finished the song, and the screams rushed back into Jaehyun’s ears all at once. He could feel sweat sliding down his spine and his temples and when he ran his hand through his hair his fingertips came back wet and he knew his hair was probably a mess now. He couldn’t stop grinning, his cheeks ached with it. Yuta screamed something unintelligible into the microphone, and then must have introduced their second song, because before Jaehyun knew it they were off again, his fingers driving into the unweighted keys, his ears nearly splitting with the nearby crash of Mark’s drums and the vibrations of Yuta’s chords. They’d gone back and forth about what order they should perform their songs in but ultimately decided to end with Lights Out, the louder one, and he knew it was the right choice. He could feel it deep in his chest, and just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore the chorus came, and he took one hand off the keys to grab the mic and poured all that agonizing excess of feeling out through his lungs into his voice. He met Yuta’s eyes as they sang together, and he could see the same elation shining back at him in Yuta’s gaze. He thought if he wasn’t still singing he would have laughed, possibly hysterically. He barely managed to catch his breath as Yuta took over for the second verse, and then he was singing again, eyes closed tight as they hurtled through the song; he was nothing but sweat and sound. 

He’d changed the last chorus over and over again, tortured himself over it–the song was big, and he felt like it needed to end even bigger. And he hadn’t been sure if he really got it right, even with a lot of reassurance from Yuta and Mark and the fact that they eventually needed to stop making changes so they could actually practice enough. But now, as the song swelled towards the final chorus, he knew it was right, he’d gotten it right after all–he’d gotten it perfect. The sudden break of the instruments right before, the shivery echoes of the fading chords, and then the crash of Mark coming in on the drums with a truly insane fill that, Jaehyun could tell, was even bigger and louder than he’d done when they’d practiced (punctuated suddenly by a distinct, very high-pitched scream from a girl somewhere in the crowd). Then Jaehyun and Yuta joined with their voices, half-screaming but somehow in harmony still, and then–they both ran out of air and took a huge breath at the same moment–the guitar and piano came back in, and they played out the last chorus together. And it was big. Jaehyun had never felt so big . 

And then it was over. The crowd was deafening. Jaehyun rocked backwards, sweaty and breathless and feeling like his heart might burst. He was dimly aware of Mark grinning and shouting at him, and Yuta pulling off his shirt and screaming something out at the crowd. Jaehyun’s chest was pounding so hard it hurt. He found himself at the edge of the stage, where, finally, he could see out into the crowd.

And there was Taeyong, three rows back, jumping up and down and grinning. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled something, but Jaehyun’s ears were ringing and he couldn’t hear it. He hopped off the stage–it was higher than he expected, or else his legs had just gone weak, and he felt the impact reverberate up into his body. But he kept his balance, and then he was walking, floating, towards the front row. There must have been kids packing all the benches, but he barely saw them, and maybe they parted to let him through because it was the easiest thing in the world to step over one bench, and then another, and then Taeyong was there. Taeyong’s mouth was moving again, and Jaehyun still couldn’t hear but Taeyong’s cheeks were flushed and his eyes were bright and whatever the words were that he was saying, Jaehyun knew exactly what they meant. He grabbed Taeyong’s face and kissed him, hard, desperate enough that he didn’t care that this was the sort of kiss that would leave his most tender parts bare, that would expose all of him in the midst of their classmates and teachers. He still thought he might burst, and if he did he wanted Taeyong to be there to put him back together again. 

He was too out of breath to kiss Taeyong for long, and he broke away and pressed their foreheads together, panting. The surrounding sounds were returning, gradually, and then all at once. 

“Jaehyun, Jae,” Taeyong was saying, and even though his voice must have been quieter than all the other noises around them Jaehyun could hear it perfectly. “Jae, you’re okay. You’re amazing.” 

Taeyong ran his thumbs over Jaehyun’s cheeks, and when he did it again, and then a third time, Jaehyun realized that he was crying. He blinked and pressed his face into Taeyong’s shoulder and squeezed him. He couldn’t have said why he was crying, but it seemed like it was mostly a matter of degree–his feelings were just too big, at the moment, not to pour out of him. In this case literally; Taeyong’s shirt grew wet against his face. 

Then there were hands slapping his back, clutching at him, and other voices distinguished themselves through the general excitement. He lifted his head, and Yuta had him by the shoulders, shaking him and grinning, and Jaehyun nearly burst into tears again, because Yuta had made him do this in the first place. Because during those bad months in the fall Yuta had befriended him anyway, and then single-handedly made sure the friendship stuck even when Jaehyun was at his worst. Doyoung ruffled Jaehyun’s hair and then made a face of immediate regret when his hand came away drenched in sweat. And Mark was there too, his smile very bright, bouncing up and down and saying, “That was awesome , man. That was so fucking awesome!” 

Jaehyun wiped his face and laughed, and then nearly choked when Taeyong yanked his neck and kissed him wetly on the cheek. Jaehyun grinned at him, and wanted to kiss him again and go on kissing him forever, but the crowd of students around him was thinning and he let himself get swept along as they all filtered noisily out of the big main doors. He could feel everyone’s residual excitement; even the teachers and chaperones seemed in high spirits, calling out to him and Yuta and Mark to tell them they’d been great. 

Everyone trickled gradually through the woods, talking in little groups, and between the trees Jaehyun could see the flickering light of a campfire up ahead. The woods opened up into a clearing circled with big logs and picnic tables that people settled onto, feet tucked up or swinging off the edges of the tables. The easy rhythms of words and laughter filled the night, and every eye seemed to catch on the bright flames in the center, drawn in to the firelight. Jaehyun was filled with that sense of sentimentality again, a warm sort of affection for the gilded faces around him, his friends of course but also all the rest of them, even the ones he barely knew. 

Yuta headed purposely to a log near the fire. Doyoung and Taeyong sat next to him, and on the next log over some girls slid down to make room for Jaehyun and Mark. Mark sat down, with a smile at the girls that managed to look both thrilled and polite, but Jaehyun settled himself on the ground at Taeyong’s feet and leaned back easily into the bracket of his knees. The noise washed over him, and the flames crackling in the middle of the circle were easy to get lost in. Taeyong ran his fingers lightly through Jaehyun’s hair and he felt all the residual energy that had been coursing through his body since he first walked onstage in The Barn redirect itself into awareness of Taeyong’s touch. His bare knee was hot under Jaehyun’s pulsing temple. He suddenly wished they were alone. 

Taeyong was in high spirits, though, chatting animatedly with Doyoung and Yuta over Jaehyun’s head, talking about the show and the other acts. His fingers in Jaehyun’s hair slowed every time he spoke, sometimes drifting to a stop altogether if he got especially excited and his voice started rising; then when he was listening his fingers would resume their gentle motions. Jaehyun started to feel the touches in more places than just his scalp. When Taeyong’s hand stopped again on the side of his neck, Jaehyun reached up and held his fingers, pulled them to his mouth and kissed his palm. It was gratifying to hear Taeyong stop talking mid-sentence, to feel his focus direct itself wholly to Jaehyun. 

“You okay?” Taeyong asked, leaning over. 

Jaehyun tilted his head and looked up at Taeyong’s face, upside down above him. He wanted to pull him down and kiss him. “Yeah,” he said, and smiled. Taeyong smiled back, and turned back to the conversation. 

Jaehyun slid his hand up the leg of Taeyong’s shorts, and Taeyong’s head whipped back down to look at him. “Jaehyun,” he said. Jaehyun couldn’t tell if it was a warning or a plea. 

“Yes?” 

Taeyong just looked down at him. Jaehyun squeezed the underside of his thigh under his shorts and felt Taeyong’s lithe muscles jump under his hand. He smiled innocently up at him. 

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong hissed. “Not now.” 

“Then when?” Jaehyun asked. “It’s been days.” 

“It’s been one day,” Taeyong said. He lowered his voice further. “And you got off yesterday anyway.”

“You know it’s not the same,” Jaehyun said. He pushed his hand higher until his fingertips hit the log Taeyong was sitting on, then slid to the outside of Taeyong’s thigh and wiggled his fingers under the fabric of his boxers. 

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong whispered. He shifted a little and looked around quickly before looking back down. “What’s with you? Yesterday too… you’re not usually like this.” 

“Really?” Jaehyun said. He thought about it. “You’re not usually like this either.” 

“Like what?” Taeyong asked.

“Resistant. And most of the time you come on to me first.” 

“That’s not true.” Taeyong frowned, but even in the firelight it was clear he was blushing. “Actually, you might be right. That’s so unfair.” 

Jaehyun grinned. “You should be thrilled that I’m being like this.” 

“What are you guys whispering about?” Doyoung said, in a tone that suggested he had a very good idea of the sorts of things they were probably whispering about. 

“You,” Taeyong said, turning to look at him. 

Jaehyun chuckled quietly and tilted his head to bite Taeyong’s knee. 

“Ow, Jae, what the fuck?” Taeyong hissed. 

“You bit me before,” Jaehyun said, holding up his arm. The mark was very faint now. 

“Every time I watch you guys flirt,” Doyoung said, “I can’t tell if it’s the most adorable or most disgusting thing I’ve ever seen.” 

“You’re no better,” Jaehyun said, and Doyoung had the grace to smile apologetically at him. 

Someone had brought out an acoustic guitar and started playing it, and then a girl who had performed in the showcase began singing along. She had a very nice voice, unexpectedly low and sweet, a voice that seemed to blend right into the other sounds of the woods at night. The noise around them quieted a little, to a low murmur. Jaehyun shifted his weight on the ground. His hand was still on Taeyong’s thigh, and his own body felt taut with desire, but he couldn’t tell if it was having any effect on Taeyong, who sat still and relaxed behind him, quiet now as he listened to the music. Jaehyun rubbed his thumb over Taeyong’s warm skin and closed his eyes for a while. 

He wasn’t sure if he dozed off, but at some point Taeyong said “Jae” and touched his shoulder. Jaehyun opened his eyes and glanced up. Taeyong was standing, carefully extracting his legs from around Jaehyun’s body. 

“What?” Jaehyun whispered. The circle around them had grown even quieter, a little drowsy; the girl was still singing. 

Taeyong pulled Jaehyun up, barely straining, and Jaehyun flushed in spite of himself at the feeling of Taeyong’s straightforward strength, how stable he seemed as he handled Jaehyun’s larger frame. He took Jaehyun’s hand and started walking away from the fire, weaving between the logs, murmuring pleasantly to some of the kids as they passed. 

Jaehyun thought they were going back to the cabin, and wondered if maybe it would be empty with everyone else still at the campfire. That seemed like a lot to hope for with so many boys sharing the cabin with them. But maybe Taeyong would give in and let Jaehyun at least share the bunk with him tonight. Jaehyun was already seriously wondering how he would manage to convince Taeyong to let him cuddle with him, when he noticed they were walking right past cabin 6. 

“Where are we going?” Jaehyun said. 

“Shh,” said Taeyong, and kept walking. 

The noises of the campfire faded behind them, and they passed beyond the reach of the lights around the cabins, and then they were just in the dark unsilent woods. Jaehyun’s heart was beating hard in his chest, and he wasn’t sure if it had kicked up now that they were alone or if it had been pounding the entire time and only now was he somewhere quiet enough to notice. 

At first it was very dark between the trees, but then Jaehyun’s eyes forgot the glow of the fire and adjusted, and he saw that the moon was out and full and he could see well where its light filtered through the branches. His gaze caught on a glimmer of brighter light: the lake shimmering beyond the last line of trees. Taeyong stopped near the edge of the water and stared out between two narrow trunks. Little splashes from unseen animals at the water’s edge were added to the night sounds.

Taeyong looked out at the water and Jaehyun looked at Taeyong. His face was eerie in the moonlight and so beautiful Jaehyun could barely breathe. He had seen Taeyong in moonlight before, the night of his birthday, at the river. It felt like an eternity ago. But he had thought Taeyong was beautiful then, too. That hadn’t changed, though everything else had. 

“I love you,” Jaehyun whispered, very quietly. Taeyong looked at him. Jaehyun lifted their joined hands and pressed them against his chest, opened and closed his mouth, wished there was a word stronger than love . He was certain no one else had ever felt the way he did, in that moment. 

Taeyong smiled. Jaehyun would never get tired of seeing the way a smile could break over Taeyong’s exquisite face, transforming it from something perfect into something gentle and full of life. “I love you too,” he said, just as quietly, and then he touched Jaehyun’s face. 

Jaehyun leaned in and kissed him, soft but certain. He put his palms on Taeyong’s cheeks, his fingers in his hair. He tilted his head and kissed him deeper. He would never tire of this. He backed Taeyong into the nearest tree, until their bodies were pressed together everywhere. He ran his hands up under Taeyong’s shirt and Taeyong slipped his tongue into his mouth and held him close with that gentle strength. Jaehyun could feel something pulsing between them, reverberating deep in his stomach. He wasn’t sure whose heartbeat was whose. 

He broke the kiss and dropped to his knees. Taeyong looked down at him, his eyes wide and full of moonlight. Jaehyun undid his shorts and pulled them down his thighs. He took Taeyong into his mouth all at once, and reveled in the gasp Taeyong let out above him, the broken startled moan when he took him to the back of his throat and kept him there, almost recklessly; even breathing did not seem as important as this. 

He might never have pulled back but Taeyong seemed to notice that he wasn’t getting quite enough air and pushed his head away. “Jae,” he murmured, and his voice was reverent. Jaehyun looked up at him, chest heaving now that his airway was clear. He was falling apart; he was desperately in love. 

He held Taeyong’s hips and turned him, kissed the backs of his thighs, and higher. Taeyong’s skin was soft against his mouth and very hot. He found the most intimate part of him with his tongue, and Taeyong flinched away and then pushed back against him in the span of a breath, whispering, “Yes, Jae, yes.” Taeyong filled all of Jaehyun’s awareness–nose pressed into skin and tongue pressed even deeper; fingertips digging into eager flesh. Taeyong’s hand was in Jaehyun’s hair, pulling him closer. Jaehyun reached down between his own legs and moaned. 

“Jaehyun,” Taeyong said, maybe had been saying for some time. “Stand up. Come here.” 

Jaehyun did, shakily, his knees embedded with dirt and leaves. He pushed his shorts down and pulled his shirt up and held Taeyong’s hips, looking down at their bodies pressed together, rocking into him. He could still taste him. Taeyong touched his face again, until Jaehyun met his eyes and kissed him over his shoulder. He pressed into him more purposely, trying to enter him, nearly entering him, but Taeyong tensed. 

“Spit on it or something,” he said. 

“God,” Jaehyun said, “That almost made me come. How can you say such dirty things like it’s nothing?” 

Taeyong looked back over his shoulder. “It’s not dirty, it’s self-preservation,” he said. “You were about to just go for it.” 

“I was not,” Jaehyun muttered, though he really had been. Taeyong looked like he wanted to laugh, but his eyes were very fond. 

Jaehyun spat into his palm and rubbed it over himself, mixing with the precome that had been leaking from him, quite possibly for ages. He started to press inside again. “Better?” 

Taeyong grunted. “Yeah. Slowly.” 

Jaehyun went agonizingly slowly. He spat again, letting his saliva drip out of his mouth to where they were joined, feeling rather satisfied with his aim, though his focus was quickly broken when Taeyong clenched around him and gasped. 

Jaehyun looked up. “What? Are you okay?” 

“Mhm,” Taeyong said. “Sorry. Keep going.” 

Jaehyun huffed out a breath. “Don’t be sorry. Your ass feels amazing.” 

“And you think I say dirty things,” Taeyong said, breathless as he relaxed again. 

Jaehyun thrust carefully inside of him, slowly until Taeyong started pressing back against him too, letting him set the pace. He wrapped his arm around Taeyong’s waist, splayed his hand over his stomach under his shirt and felt the muscles shift there under his heated skin. He was fully inside him now and dizzy with it, the way he always was. He could hear Taeyong’s breaths get shakier as he started moving faster, and then on one deep thrust Taeyong let out a hoarse startled cry and clapped his hand over his mouth. 

“Don’t do that,” Jaehyun said, taking hold of his wrist. Taeyong kept his hand pressed firmly to his face. “I want to hear you.” 

“You might, but if you haven’t noticed we’re not exactly in the most private place.” 

“No one’s around,” Jaehyun said, driving his hips forward more forcefully now, satisfied when Taeyong groaned behind his hand. 

“They could be,” Taeyong said. “Sound carries. I don’t want to get expelled two weeks before I graduate.” 

Jaehyun snorted. “We won’t get expelled.” He sucked Taeyong’s earlobe into his mouth and moved faster. “The sounds you make are so hot.” 

“They’re just for you,” Taeyong panted. 

Jaehyun felt his body clench and barely held himself back from coming. “Shit,” he gasped. “I know you’re just saying that to get me to stop begging you to be loud. But fine, it worked, I like that so fucking much.” 

Taeyong turned back and kissed Jaehyun, messily as Jaehyun’s thrusts grew erratic and Taeyong’s body kept jolting forward. “I wasn’t just saying that,” Taeyong said, his voice a little shattered. “I’m only yours.” 

“Fuck, Taeyong,” Jaehyun groaned. 

“D-don’t come inside,” Taeyong said. “Not here.” 

“I won’t,” Jaehyun breathed, and then very quickly realized he needed to pull out right away if he was going to stay true to his word. “Fuck.” 

He slid out and leaned against the tree next to Taeyong, stroking himself quickly. Taeyong turned so they were shoulder to shoulder, touching himself too, his eyes on the movement of Jaehyun’s hand. 

“You’re so hot,” Taeyong murmured.

“Look at me,” Jaehyun said roughly. 

Taeyong’s eyes flickered up and met his own, and for a split second the sensation that ran through Jaehyun’s body made him worry that his legs might give out. And then he came, dropping his head down against Taeyong’s shoulder and shaking hard, though he stayed upright at least. Taeyong came a second later, whispering Jaehyun’s name. They both sagged against the tree, panting. Jaehyun could feel tremors flickering gently through Taeyong’s bicep where it was pressed hard against his own. 

“Will I ever get used to this?” Jaehyun asked. Taeyong glanced at him questioningly. “Every time you touch me it feels so good. And being inside you is just… insane. It’s insane how good you feel. How good everything feels with you. I keep thinking I’ll get used to it but it still feels like I’m losing my mind every time. I can’t believe I get to have you.” 

“Jeez,” Taeyong breathed, face flushed even under the cool tint of moonlight. 

“Is it not like that for you?” Jaehyun asked.

Taeyong hesitated, and Jaehyun’s stomach dropped, but then he said quietly, “Of course it’s like that for me. Every time.”

Jaehyun exhaled, and then he was smiling, and he could see his smile mirrored on Taeyong’s face, and he leaned over and kissed him for a long time.

~~~~~

Chapter Text

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun said, “We’re gonna be–oof–late. Get off.” 

Taeyong didn’t say anything, and he did not get off. He was currently wrapped around Jaehyun like a koala, clinging on fiercely and trying to distract him with kisses. Jaehyun grabbed his waist and tried to peel him off, but Taeyong just tightened his legs around Jaehyun’s hips and kissed him again. Jaehyun stopped trying to get him to let go, but only because at that moment he lost his balance and stumbled into the wall. The breath went out of Taeyong’s lungs in a rush as the wall collided with his back and Jaehyun’s solid chest collided with his front. 

“Ow,” Taeyong gasped. 

“I told you to get off,” Jaehyun said. “Are you okay?” 

Taeyong swallowed and tried to catch his breath, and didn’t protest as Jaehyun finally managed to unhook Taeyong’s legs and lowered him to stand on his own two feet. 

“That was dumb,” Jaehyun said affectionately, touching Taeyong’s cheek. 

“You were going to leave,” Taeyong said, still winded. 

“We were both going to leave, together, because we’re going to be late. For graduation. Which is kind of important to be on time for.”

“Is it?” Taeyong said. “It’s not like walking across the stage means anything. The diploma is all that matters.” 

He expected Jaehyun to roll his eyes, but he didn’t. Instead he looked seriously down at Taeyong. “Do you not want to go?” 

“I–sure I want to go.” Taeyong glanced away. He caught sight of himself in the mirror. His suit was rumpled and his tie had gotten crooked. It took a lot of willpower not to reach up and fix it.

“Taeyong,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong groaned. “Don’t use that voice on me.” 

“What voice?” 

“That gentle voice. I’m powerless to resist.” 

Jaehyun smiled. “Oh, I’m definitely using the voice now,” he said, and Taeyong’s neck prickled because his voice was still low and sweet. “I’m going to talk like this all the time. Finally, I have something to even out the playing field.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Taeyong said. 

“I mean I’m always powerless against you. I never knew you felt the same way.” 

Taeyong blushed and scoffed quietly. “Fine. I don’t want to go to graduation,” he said. 

Jaehyun reached out and started straightening Taeyong’s tie, and Taeyong could feel his blush deepen. Jaehyun didn’t say anything until he moved on to Taeyong’s shirt, tucking it carefully into his pants, and then tugging his jacket down over it. 

“Why not?” he asked. 

Taeyong shrugged. “I don’t know. Just nervous.” 

“We still have all summer,” Jaehyun said softly. 

Taeyong looked down. “Just summer?” It was barely more than a whisper–he almost hadn’t said it at all. 

“You know that’s not what I mean,” Jaehyun said. His voice really did sound like a caress, warm and deep, and Taeyong felt comforted in spite of himself. “I just mean today, graduation, isn’t going to change anything.”

“Right,” Taeyong said. “I know.” 

Jaehyun touched his chin and tilted his face up, and kissed him, deeply enough that the heat in Taeyong’s cheeks spread to the rest of his body. He pushed Jaehyun away when he started to sweat under his jacket. 

“Now you’re going to make us late,” he said. He still wasn’t quite able to meet Jaehyun’s eyes, but now it had more to do with the effort he was making not to tear off both their carefully assembled suits and spend the rest of the day in bed. He turned to the mirror and fixed his hair, which he’d attempted to comb into a shape that both his boyfriend and mother might appreciate.

“You look good,” Jaehyun said, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “Better than good.” 

Taeyong stopped fussing with his hair and let Jaehyun take his hand as they went downstairs. Mr. Park came out of the living room at the sound of their footsteps. He glanced at their joined hands. Taeyong couldn’t remember if they’d ever held hands in front of Jaehyun’s uncle before, and he didn’t think Jaehyun had specifically told him anything, but he certainly didn’t look surprised. Taeyong could only hope he had figured out about their relationship by putting together innocent clues like how much time they spent together or how they looked at each other, and not because he’d heard questionable sounds coming from Jaehyun’s room on any of the numerous occasions when they’d been in there doing questionable things.

“Ready to go?” Mr. Park asked.

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, smiling brightly, like it was easy. 

Taeyong wasn’t sure why he looked so excited. Wasn’t he also worried about the future? In fact, shouldn’t he be even more worried than anybody else? Jaehyun still hadn’t made up his mind about what he’d be doing the following year–or at least, he still hadn’t said anything about it to Taeyong. Ever since they got back from the senior trip, Taeyong had started to suspect that the reason Jaehyun hadn’t told him his plans yet was because deep down he already had made his decision, and he wanted to stay in town and live with his uncle. Maybe this was just Taeyong’s paranoia, because that was the outcome he was dreading, a decision that would mean they would be apart. But he didn’t want to bring it up to find out for sure, and he knew his worries were selfish anyway. He was going to college hours away because that was what he had always wanted, and he hadn’t considered changing those plans when he met Jaehyun. Jaehyun should be able to make the same kind of choice, to do what was right for him, without worrying about Taeyong or anyone else.

The weather had been iffy all week, with rolling thunder storms that came and went in a matter of minutes, and no one had been sure where graduation would be held, but the call had finally been made that the forecast was good enough to hold the event out in the athletic fields like usual. This seemed like the right choice: the day was sunny and warm, the sky nearly cloudless as Mr. Park dropped them off in the school parking lot. As soon as they were out of the car, Jaehyun reached down and took Taeyong’s hand again. Taeyong wasn’t sure if this helped his nerves or just made his heart beat so fast that whether it was from nerves or something else just became irrelevant. 

The gym was in cheerful turmoil as they entered through the wide open doors. Kids were everywhere, putting on their caps and gowns, and Taeyong thought the excitement had a nervous tinge that he wasn’t just projecting. Jaehyun did not let go of his hand as they found Doyoung and Yuta, or as the gym eventually quieted, and only reluctantly released him when they were made to shuffle into alphabetical order with other students standing between them. They were herded through the gym doors into blinding sunlight and for a moment Taeyong lost sight of Jaehyun in the line ahead of him, lost sight of everything, his eyes stinging in the sudden brightness. As his eyes adjusted, he made out the stage set up in the distance, with a podium and a riot of fluttering streamers. The rows of folding chairs that covered the field were mostly filled and the sound of mingled voices drifted across the field. Taeyong could hear the exact moment when everyone noticed that the students had come out, a chorus of excited affection from the families and friends in attendance. So this was really happening–in front of so many witnesses, he could not ignore the fact that high school was over. 

The principal climbed up to the podium and started speaking, but Taeyong barely paid attention. The sun was high and hot and he was sweating under his many layers, his thighs damp against the plastic chair beneath him. It was easy to drift into a daze. It was easy to feel as though summer was already here. But it was hard to feel as excited as he normally would about the coming months of freedom. It was hard not to feel like this was more of an ending than a beginning, and as soon as he had that thought he wanted to kick himself for being so dramatic, so pessimistic. He tried to clear his head. People continued speaking, up at the podium, endlessly, and then, finally, names started being called. The row of students in front of him emptied gradually, and filled again, as they filed up and took their diplomas, shook the principal’s hand, grinned at a photographer with an enormous camera, and then cycled back to their seats, a lively but slow-moving procession. 

“Jeong Jaehyun!” 

Jaehyun stood, a few seats away, and Taeyong looked toward him and smiled as their eyes met–of course, Jaehyun looked over at him before he started walking out of the row. The smile stayed on Taeyong’s face, despite the nerves, despite a slight prickling behind his eyes that he didn’t want to think about because tearing up at his high school graduation was just too embarrassing. Jaehyun walked up onto the stage to polite applause, punctuated by a triumphant yell that was definitely Yuta. He took his diploma, grinning broadly at the photographer and waving out at the audience. His eyes met Taeyong’s again, and then searched further back in the audience, probably for his uncle. His smile was huge and infectious, like it always was. He was beautiful, like he always was. 

“Kim Doyoung!” Taeyong watched Doyoung follow the same path across the stage, his smile a little bewildered as he went, squinting in the sunlight. Taeyong’s palms tingled from clapping.

“Lee Taeyong!” 

Taeyong’s stomach flipped over and it took a beat before he could make himself stand. Jaehyun was still filing slowly back around towards the seats, too far away, though Taeyong tried to find his eyes anyway. He climbed the steps to the stage. He was pretty sure he was still smiling, he could feel the tightness in his cheeks, and he hoped he looked convincingly happy. He was not used to stages; he wasn’t a natural at this, like Jaehyun was. The sun was very bright and his palm, as he took his diploma and shook the principal’s hand, was distinctly slippery. He felt a little bad for the principal, though she just looked genuinely proud, and his couldn’t have been the only sweaty hand she would shake today. He almost forgot to pause and smile for the photographer, who had to call out to him sharply before he wandered off the stage. But then, finally, he was heading down the stairs at the far end of the stage, back into the anonymous crowd of students shuffling over the grass back to their seats. He caught sight of his parents and sister, next to Doyoung’s family, and they all waved madly at him. A moment later he saw that there there was another person waving too, a few rows away–Mr. Park. Taeyong smiled and waved back at them all, feeling strangely touched that he could prompt this display of enthusiasm from the quiet Mr. Park. 

When he reached his row again, he was surprised to see Jaehyun in the seat next to his. His pulse kicked up again as he sat down. 

“What are you doing here?” he whispered. 

“The order we’re sitting in doesn’t matter now, does it? It’s all over,” Jaehyun said. Taeyong winced a little at the phrase. The top of Jaehyun’s nose was pink from the sun and his eyes were bright and happy, without any of the concern Taeyong was feeling. He took Taeyong’s hand again in both of his, and even though it was too hot to be holding hands like this Taeyong was glad for the contact. They both looked back at the stage as “Nakamoto Yuta!” was called. Yuta stood to especially raucous applause and waved like a celebrity as he walked across the stage, pointing at kids and blowing kisses. Jaehyun stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled and Taeyong laughed helplessly and cheered too. 

When Yuta returned to the seats, he easily convinced the girl next to Doyoung to move down the row and took her spot, leaning over immediately. “Hey,” he hissed to Jaehyun and Taeyong. “Everyone’s heading to the river after this, for the real celebration.” 

“We’re going to dinner with our families,” Taeyong whispered back. “Doyoung and me. And Jaehyun.” 

“So am I, you idiot,” Yuta said. “How dare you think I wasn’t invited? But first, the river. You can’t be sober at your graduation dinner.” 

“Our parents are gonna be there!” Taeyong exclaimed. “And his uncle,” he added, glancing at Jaehyun. 

“Don’t be lame,” Yuta said, and winked before sitting back, as though the matter was settled. 

Taeyong looked at Jaehyun, who had his hand over his mouth and was shaking with laughter. Taeyong blushed. “What are you laughing at?” 

Jaehyun removed his hand and managed, “Just, your face.” He giggled. “Your parents aren’t even strict.” 

“They don’t have to be strict, because I don’t show up wasted at family dinners,” Taeyong grumbled. 

“Who said anything about wasted,” Jaehyun said. He let out a dramatic sigh. “You’re so cute. What am I going to do.” 

“Don’t make fun of me.” Taeyong scowled. 

“I’m complimenting you,” Jaehyun said, and smirked when Taeyong narrowed his eyes at him. 

The last students were called, and a final exuberant congratulations was given to the whole class, and then all the students around Taeyong were leaping out of their seats and cheering. Caps were tossed, and then scrambled for as they inevitably did not return neatly to the hands of their owners. Jaehyun grabbed Taeyong’s cap as well as his own and threw them both in the air, only managing to catch one of them as it drifted back down. Taeyong turned towards him, expecting him to place it back on his head, but instead Jaehyun wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, bowing Taeyong back extravagantly like in some old movie, the triumphant final scene as the screen fades to black. 

Taeyong nearly dropped his diploma trying to grab hold of Jaehyun’s gown so as not to topple backwards onto the ground. Logically, he could feel Jaehyun’s arms tight against his back, leaving no threat of falling. But the kiss was dizzying, and the sense that he was not quite steady on his feet overwhelmed any understanding of physics or gravity. Jaehyun finally broke the kiss, but didn’t straighten up, just looked at Taeyong for a moment and smiled, his face very close. This was dizzying too, the clear evidence before Taeyong’s eyes of how happy he, he , could make another person. He blinked quickly. 

He was almost relieved when the unmistakable voice of his sister cut through the general clamor. “See? I told you they were dating.” 

Jaehyun straightened and carefully put Taeyong back on his own feet, fixing Taeyong’s hair and placing the cap back on his head with a dignified, ceremonial air before they both turned towards the voices. 

Taeyong’s mom waved a dismissive hand at his sister. “And I told you he’d tell us when he was ready. Or, well,” she gestured vaguely, “I guess you didn’t exactly tell us, in the end, but close enough.” She turned her attention to Jaehyun and smiled broadly. “Jaehyun, congratulations. You and your uncle are joining us for dinner later, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun. “I’m looking forward to it.” His tone was carefully polite and Taeyong didn’t think he looked the least bit embarrassed about the kiss.

“So are we. And now that we don’t all have to pretend we don’t know about the two of you, this will be much more fun.” 

“Mom,” Taeyong groaned, and glared at his sister, who he decided was to blame for this, though of course the real fault lay with Jaehyun and his spectacular kissing. 

“Ah, Changmin,” Taeyong’s dad said, as Jaehyun’s uncle approached. 

The adults fell into conversation, and Taeyong looked around for Yuta and Doyoung in the crowd, unsuccessfully, until his mother turned to him again. 

“Are you coming back with us now?” 

“Oh,” Taeyong started. “We were going to… hang out with Doyoung and Yuta, and stuff.” 

“Ah, at the river, right?” Taeyong’s mom said. 

“Um,” said Taeyong, unsure if this was a trap. 

“That’s been a tradition since we were all in school,” his father said, gesturing at his mother and at Jaehyun’s uncle. It had not occurred to Taeyong before that Jaehyun’s uncle had grown up with his parents, though of course now that he thought about it this should have been obvious. Somehow, even in this town where Taeyong was constantly reminded that everyone knew each other, Mr. Park had always seemed a little apart from everything. 

“Right, well, we’ll see you later then.”

“Make sure you’re at the Kims’ place by 7 sharp,” Taeyong’s mom said. “And don’t do anything excessively stupid or dangerous.”

“Only moderately stupid and dangerous,” Taeyong’s sister chimed in helpfully, but her smile as she said it was warm and then she threw an arm around Taeyong’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Congratulations Tyongie. You know, I always knew you’d graduate and get into college, but the hot boyfriend is a real accomplishment.” 

Taeyong shoved her off. “Oh my god,” he said, at the same time as Jaehyun leaned around him and said, beaming, “Thank you.” Taeyong grabbed his hand and led him away through the crowd before his family could inflict any more damage. 

Jaehyun just looked at him as he was pulled along, delighted, and said “‘Tyongie?’”

“Don’t even think about it.” 

~~

The river, when they reached it on their bikes, was all golden. The angle of the sun at the end of spring was gentle, not yet the relentless brilliance of midsummer, and the light stretched luxuriously over all the new growing things and the flickering water. By the time they arrived at the base of the sledding hill, it looked like most of the senior class was already there, still ostensibly in their nice clothes, though jackets and ties and heels had mostly gone missing; sleeves were rolled up, hair had been pulled into ponytails. Coolers were scattered around the grassy bank and in no time at all Taeyong and Jaehyun both had red plastic cups shoved into their hands. Jaehyun turned to Taeyong and raised the cup, a skeptical tilt in his eyebrows which Taeyong returned as he tapped their cups together. They both drank. 

“Ugh,” Taeyong said. 

“You get used to it,” Doyoung said, appearing beside them. He put his arms around both of them, which left him oddly tilted due to their height difference, and suggested strongly that he had already had a fair amount to drink himself. 

Taeyong took another drink. “You’re sort of right,” he said thoughtfully. “What?” Jaehyun and Doyoung were both looking at him. 

“Nothing,” Doyoung said, grinning. He shook Taeyong’s shoulders a little, and Taeyong met his eyes and was a little overcome suddenly by how familiar his face was, so familiar he hardly ever actually registered what Doyoung looked like, the way he barely registered the familiar streets in town that he passed every day on his way to the usual places, school or his family’s store or the river. 

“I can’t believe….” Taeyong trailed off, looking away from Doyoung and out at the water. Two boys had taken off most of their clothes and were standing knee-deep at the river’s edge, their arms raised in a posture that unmistakably conveyed the frigid temperature of the water. As he watched, one of the boys steeled himself and dove under, coming up a short distance away and shouting while kids on the bank whooped and cheered. Taeyong took another burning gulp of his drink. His stomach was warm. The sights and sounds around him took on a romantic sort of tinge, flooded with that warm sunlight, like he was watching a movie, like everything was staged to perfectly depict a nostalgic scene of careless youth. It felt like a scene had been played out dozens of times before, hundreds of times–the girls standing barefoot in their bright dresses, the sweet stench of alcohol, the kids lying blissfully in the grass, even the two boys daring each other to jump into the cold water; all of it had happened before, and all of it would keep happening after Taeyong left. 

A warm pressure against his jaw made him blink and come back to himself–Jaehyun had kissed him. 

“Oh,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun smiled and kissed Taeyong’s cheek and then his mouth. Both of their tongues tasted sweet and precisely the same. When they broke apart Taeyong was smiling, warm, loose. Jaehyun was new. This seemed crucially important. New things did happen in River’s Bend, even in all its usual scenes, in its traditions and cycles, which in fact were broken and changed all the time–his parents may have spent the afternoon of their graduation at this same stretch of river, but it had not been like this. And people left, too, all the time. Some came back, and some never did. This town was just a town. Taeyong would always have it but it did not need to always have him. 

Doyoung had drifted away somewhere while he’d been lost of thought, or maybe while Jaehyun had been kissing him, probably towards the place by the water where Yuta’s voice could be heard. 

“Let’s go,” Taeyong said. 

“We still have time,” Jaehyun said, checking his phone. 

“Not to dinner, to our tree.” Taeyong swallowed the rest of his drink and started looking around for their bikes. 

“‘Our,’” Jaehyun said, and Taeyong looked back. Jaehyun was smiling, a simple happy smile, one that had just appeared without being thought about. It was boyish, a little silly on his face which was handsome and not very boyish anymore. 

Their classmates’ voices faded gradually behind them as they biked upstream, crossed the bridge, turned onto the familiar dirt path on the opposite bank. Their shadows tilted before them and beat them to the tree. When Taeyong climbed off his bike and leaned back against the trunk the bark was warm from the sun against his shoulder blades. Jaehyun leaned against the tree beside him, slouching down a bit so his knees were bent and his shoulders were lower than Taeyong’s. Their jackets and ties hung over their handlebars, rumpled, and their dress shoes were scuffed from the dust and pebbles of the path. Jaehyun rested his head on Taeyong’s shoulder, which made Taeyong giggle and then sigh. 

“This is where we met,” Taeyong said. The sunlight off the water was sharp and scattered. 

“Haven’t we had this conversation before?” Jaehyun said. His jaw moved against Taeyong’s shoulder. “Are you going to say that every time we come here?” 

“I mean, this is when we met. In June. A day just like this.” 

“Hmm,” said Jaehyun. “You’re right. It was hotter, though.” 

“Yeah. You were practically naked.” 

“And you fell for me on the spot, thanks to that,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong hummed noncommittally. “Do you want to get naked again?” 

Jaehyun lifted his head quickly off Taeyong’s shoulder. “Really?” 

Taeyong blinked at him and laughed. “No, not really.” 

But Jaehyun was already unbuttoning his shirt, pulling it off, struggling a bit where his rolled up cuffs got stuck at his elbows. Taeyong was laughing again by the end of it, but then Jaehyun’s mouth was on his and his hands were making quick work of Taeyong’s own shirt buttons. 

“We can’t keep,” Taeyong breathed, “fucking against trees.” 

“Can’t we?” Jaehyun said. Taeyong’s shirt was open and he slid his hands over Taeyong’s waist and pressed their hips together. He was hard and breathless already, panting. “It could be our thing.” 

“I don’t think so,” Taeyong said. He shrugged his shirt the rest of the way off, the sleeves sliding easily over his slimmer arms, which he wrapped around Jaehyun’s neck. 

Jaehyun fumbled between them, undoing their belts, his tongue in Taeyong’s mouth, a little clumsy; the belts and slacks required more concentration than their usual clothes. But he got them undone, pushed Taeyong’s pants and boxers down, and then his own, so they gathered at their ankles. He kicked off his shoes, scuffing them more. Taeyong had to stop kissing him as he dissolved into another laughing fit. 

“What?” Jaehyun said, unbothered. “Take off your shoes.” 

“You’re insane.” But he took his shoes off, and kicked off his pants as Jaehyun had done. He spared a brief thought for the terrible state of their suits on the ground. 

Then Jaehyun was against him again, all of his bare skin and hard muscles and his hot blood pumping underneath, utterly familiar and yet thrilling, every time it was a thrill. Jaehyun’s hands were everywhere; he was just as thrilled, transparent in his desperation, everything laid bare.

“You’re shaking,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun didn’t seem to have heard. He caught Jaehyun’s face and held him still. “Jae, you’re shaking.”

“Am I?” Jaehyun looked at his hands, splayed over Taeyong’s chest. Taeyong put his hands over them. He could feel the tremors of Jaehyun’s fingertips. “I’m excited, I guess,” Jaehyun said, a little dazed. 

Taeyong ran his fingers up Jaehyun’s arms, into his hair, over the back of his neck to his shoulders, and down his arms again, slowly but firmly, his palms solid against Jaehyun’s skin. “Weren’t you the one who said this won’t change anything?” 

“Yes,” Jaehyun whispered. His fingers had not stopped shaking, and Taeyong could feel his thighs trembling too, and his knees, and he knew that this was different from the way he sometimes shuddered when he was aroused.  

“You’re going to stay here with your uncle, aren’t you?” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun looked at him. Taeyong was surprised, in some distant part of his mind, that neither of them glanced away. It seemed possible that they had stopped even blinking. 

“I was going to tell you,” Jaehyun said, his voice quiet. The sun glinted off the tops of his shoulders. “Soon. I didn’t want to ruin today, the summer. I don’t want to ruin things for us.” 

“Does this… ruin things?” 

“I wasn’t sure you’d still want to be with me,” Jaehyun said. There was no space between them already, but his voice was so low that Taeyong had to lean in closer still to hear, until he could feel Jaehyun’s breath and the heat radiating off his flushed cheeks. 

“Of course I still want to be with you,” Taeyong said. 

“You’ll be in college. You shouldn’t be—”

Taeyong leaned back, fast; the back of his head hit the trunk. “I shouldn’t be what?” His grip was tight on Jaehyun’s arms and he nearly shook him. He was not upset by what Jaehyun was saying–that was a simple matter of correcting his completely ridiculous presumptions. But the way Jaehyun’s shoulders slouched, the way he had shrunk, this was what made Taeyong want to shake him. Only a moment before he had been his usual self, larger than life: the strong rise and fall of his body hovering above his bike seat, the hungry certain movements as he pulled at their clothes. Now he seemed somehow less . 

“I just thought, I wasn’t sure….” 

“I still want to be with you, okay?” Taeyong said. “I can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t. I wanted to beg you to come to the city with me, I almost did beg. But it’s okay. I know you need to do what’s right for you and I want you to. I want you to do what you need to do. I just want you to be with me too. Whatever else you need, need me too.” 

“I do,” Jaehyun said roughly. “I do need you. I want to be with you, no matter what.” 

“Okay,” Taeyong said. “That’s good, that’s settled then.” His voice was firmer than he felt, but Jaehyun’s uncertainty seemed to be having the opposite effect on Taeyong. He leaned forward and kissed Jaehyun’s shoulder, and something very warm went through him when this, just this small thing, made Jaehyun’s breath audibly catch. “I love you, okay?” 

“I know. I love you too. I’m sorry, I really wanted to be able to go with you, but I just…” Jaehyun’s voice faded and he leaned forward until his forehead tapped against Taeyong’s. His eyes were closed, their noses brushed. “You were the only reason I wanted to go,” he whispered, sounding almost scared. “I wanted that to be enough. I’m so sorry.” 

“No,” Taeyong said, and put his hand on the back of Jaehyun’s neck. “I know this place has been good for you.” 

“You’ve been good for me,” Jaehyun said.

“I’ll still be good for you. You’re allowed to stay and you’re allowed to ask me to keep loving you, too–I will anyway. You’re not ruining anything.”

“I’ll miss you,” Jaehyun said. 

“I’m not leaving yet,” Taeyong said, and he smiled, and it felt like a good smile, a real and happy one. He was not sure if the weight that had filled his chest these past few weeks was gone, exactly, but the quality of it had certainly changed now that he knew for sure what Jaehyun would do, and it surprisingly did not feel worse to know. “Did you talk to your uncle?” 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said. His eyes were still closed, his forehead was still against Taeyong’s, but his face seemed to be moving closer: now as he spoke his lips shivered softly over Taeyong’s own. “I’m going to work at the library. It’ll be good, I think.” 

“You’ll come visit me,” Taeyong said.

“Yes,” Jaehyun said. His lips were definitely touching Taeyong’s now. 

“I’ll talk to your boss and make sure he gives you days off all the time. And pays you well enough to cover all those bus rides.” 

“My boss?” 

“Your uncle, you idiot,” Taeyong said. 

Jaehyun let out a breathy laugh into Taeyong’s mouth. “Right. I’ll visit. I’ll do whatever I need to do, whatever you need.” 

Taeyong lifted his face. Only the smallest movement was needed for their lips to meet. Jaehyun’s mouth was soft and warm and ready. “I’m glad we figured this out while we’re both totally naked,” Taeyong murmured. 

“Mm. We should do everything naked.” Jaehyun took Taeyong’s wrists and moved them up behind his own neck, then slid his hands down Taeyong’s sides to his thighs. He picked him up, straightened to his full height, wrapped Taeyong’s legs around his waist and pressed him against the tree. 

“This feels familiar,” Taeyong said. Jaehyun shifted and Taeyong could feel him hard against his ass. “Although,” he gasped quietly as Jaehyun started kissing his neck, his tongue wet and hot against his skin, “there was a crucial difference when you carried me like this in your room this morning.” 

“We weren’t naked then” Jaehyun said, clearly not paying much attention to anything except how much of Taeyong’s skin he could taste. “This is much better.” 

“Well, yes. But more importantly, lube,” Taeyong said. “Your room has lube in it.”

Jaehyun’s mouth stopped moving against his neck, and then he lifted his head. “But—” 

“If you’re going to bring up that other time we fucked against a tree, without lube, and how I handled it like an absolute champ, please don’t.” 

“Well, you did,” Jaehyun said, smirking and leaning in to kiss Taeyong again. “You absolutely did. You always take me so well, baby.” 

“This feels suspiciously like you’re just complimenting yourself for having a big dick,” Taeyong said.

“You said it, not me,” Jaehyun said. He emphasized this by rocking his hips. 

Taeyong rocked back. “I do,” he panted softly, “really like your dick.” 

“Aw,” Jaehyun said. 

“And the rest of you,” Taeyong added. “A lot.”

Jaehyun smiled against his mouth. “I feel like there’s a ‘but’ coming,” he said. 

“Well….” 

Jaehyun laughed softly. “Okay.” He shifted again, until he could reach down between their stomachs and wrap his hand around both of their hard lengths. “Just this, then.” 

“We can go home and do everything,” Taeyong said. 

“We have our graduation dinner,” Jaehyun said. 

“Oh, shit,” Taeyong said, suddenly wondering what time it was, and how much trouble he would be in for showing up in a suit that was not only wrinkled but now also surely streaked with dirt. 

“And anyway,” Jaehyun said, his voice hoarse, his hand tightening around them and moving faster, “I can’t bike home in this state.” 

“Oh, fuck,” Taeyong groaned in agreement. He rolled his hips, thrusting into Jaehyun’s grip. 

“You do it,” Jaehyun gasped. He grabbed Taeyong’s hand and shoved it down between them. “I don’t want to drop you.” 

“How romantic,” Taeyong said, but he took over, and Jaehyun devoted both arms to holding him. They kissed, and then stopped kissing and looked down between them at Taeyong’s hands and their leaking cocks and trembling stomachs. 

Jaehyun kissed Taeyong’s shoulder, and then sucked a mark into it, moaning. “I’m gonna come,” he said abruptly, a surprised rush. “Fuck, I’m gonna—” He turned his face into Taeyong’s neck and thrust against him clumsily, and then Taeyong could feel his release, hotter than the warm air and hotter than their flushed skin. Jaehyun groaned shakily.

“Don’t drop me yet,” Taeyong panted. Jaehyun, to his credit, did not show any sign of loosening his hold, even as the muscles in his back shuddered. He raised his face and sucked Taeyong’s earlobe into his soft mouth. Taeyong shivered. “Oh, yes, fuck, Jae….” The pleasure built, in his own body and in the tight space between them. Their skin was exactly the same temperature, it was not easy to tell where he stopped and Jaehyun began. The muscles in his stomach clenched, twitched, then tightened again. He gasped, and came, the soft inner part of his thighs aching as he squeezed his legs tight against Jaehyun’s sharp hipbones. 

When his feet were back on the ground and he had somewhat caught his breath, leaning back against the tree with Jaehyun beside him, Taeyong glanced at their suits in the dust and said, “Maybe we should have thought this through a little better.” 

Jaehyun launched his weight away from the tree trunk and walked to the water’s edge. Taeyong watched him, admiring the way the late afternoon sun slid over his skin. Jaehyun crouched down and dipped his hands into the water, hissing. “Oh, it’s cold.” 

“No shit,” Taeyong said. He went and knelt beside Jaehyun, his knees sinking into prickly moss. 

Jaehyun pulled his hands out of the water and splashed across the mess they’d left on his stomach, flinching visibly, but cleaning himself up pretty well. He looked at Taeyong expectantly. 

“Go ahead,” Taeyong sighed, bracing himself. Jaehyun’s cold wet hand when it landed on his stomach still made his breath catch. Jaehyun swept what was left of their release from Taeyong’s skin, and then let his fingers linger there on his stomach, slowly warming up as the cool droplets of water trailed down between Taeyong’s thighs. 

“We need to go,” Taeyong said. But he put his hand over Jaehyun’s and held it there against his belly for a moment before letting either of them move. Finally Jaehyun stood, and pulled Taeyong up after him. They cleaned up their suits as much as they could, but as Taeyong pulled up his pants and fumbled with his belt he was startled by a loud gasp from behind him. He turned. “What?” 

“Your back,” Jaehyun said, looking alarmed. 

“What about it?” Taeyong tried to twist his neck around to see. 

“It’s all scraped up. Jesus, why didn’t you say anything?” Jaehyun stepped closer and touched Taeyong’s shoulder blade lightly. 

“I didn’t notice. It’s bad?” 

“Doesn’t it hurt?” 

“No,” Taeyong said. “Ow! Well, if you touch it!” Jaehyun hurriedly removed his hand. “I’m not bleeding, am I?” Taeyong asked, trying unsuccessfully to see the damage again. 

“No, just all red.” 

“Then it’s fine,” Taeyong said, and pulled his shirt up. The fabric against his skin prickled, a little raw, but he might not have thought anything of it if Jaehyun hadn’t pointed it out. “What’s with your face?” Taeyong asked, eyeing Jaehyun. “Are you that squeamish?” 

“No,” Jaehyun said, and shook his head quickly. He zipped his pants, which had been slipping off his hips in his distraction, and did up his belt. 

“Don’t tell me this turns you on,” Taeyong said.

Jaehyun flushed and his eyes flew up to meet Taeyong’s. “No! I mean, well, you said it didn’t hurt.” 

“You’re a little sick, you know,” Taeyong said, slinging his tie around his neck but leaving it undone. 

“No,” Jaehyun said, looking genuinely worried. “I don’t want you to be in pain or anything. Just, your skin… and the fact that you didn’t even notice, in the moment….” He shook his head again. “Stop laughing at me.” 

“Get dressed,” Taeyong said. “You don’t need to make excuses. Anything that turns you on is fine with me.” 

“It didn’t—”

“Okay, okay.” Taeyong pushed Jaehyun’s hands, which were hanging vaguely in the air in front of his chest, out of the way and took up the task of buttoning Jaehyun’s shirt himself. He straightened his collar, brushed his hands over Jaehyun’s shoulders and his strong chest, and kissed him quickly on his still-flushed cheek. “Let’s get to dinner before my parents kill us both.” 

He made to turn towards their bikes but Jaehyun seized him suddenly by the arms and pulled him back, kissing him fiercely. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it through a whole dinner with all our families,” he muttered. “We should have come like three more times first.” 

Taeyong smiled and reached down, cupping Jaehyun’s cock through his slacks, which seemed to swell again even at this slight touch. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “I’ll make you come as much as you want after.”

Jaehyun groaned but followed Taeyong to the bikes, scowling and making a bit of a show of adjusting himself before he swung his leg over the seat. “I think you’re the one who’s a little sick,” he grumbled. 

Taeyong just winked, and started pedaling off down the path, making a bit of a show himself; he knew Jaehyun was staring at his ass. The afternoon was bright and warm, his bike seemed to fly over the ground; it was summer and he was in love.

~~~~~

Jaehyun opened his eyes slowly and the back of Taeyong’s head came into focus, his hair all a soft tangle on the pillow. The room was dim, but Jaehyun could hear the steady drumming of the rain which had been coming down for days, so he could not tell if the dimness was any indicator of the actual time of day. It was the weekend, Sunday; the library was closed, and Taeyong did not have to work at the store for once, so they could wake up like this in bed together whenever they wanted. The air conditioner hummed faintly through the house, mostly drowned out by the rain and occasional rolls of thunder. The summer had passed in a haze; Taeyong would leave at the end of the week. 

But this summer’s haze had been nothing like the numbing cloud of the summer before, those weeks and months that Jaehyun had let slip by as he withdrew inside himself and tried his best not to look out at the world around him. This summer had been as close to perfect as Jaehyun could have hoped, so close to perfect that there was an edge of apprehension to it, almost fear–he suspected it shouldn’t be possible to be so happy, partly because of Haru and partly because he just wasn’t sure the world was a good enough place for this kind of perfection to exist. It probably wasn’t, but it didn’t matter: Jaehyun was happy. 

He was happy with his work at the library. During the summer the library was a busy place, with all the programs for kids who no longer had school to occupy them all day, but no matter how many people came and went the building always retained its cool hush. Jaehyun had enjoyed this peace even when he’d first moved here, but then it had been an escape, now it was something he wholeheartedly loved. He did not think he and his uncle were very similar–anyone could have seen how well the library suited his quiet uncle, while more than one of his classmates raised their eyebrows in surprise when he told them where he was working, or assumed it was a dull job and pitied him. But Jaehyun was deeply content there. And it wasn’t a lonely job at all–there were constantly people to talk to, to help in various ways, and Jaehyun had never seen his uncle as lively as when he spoke about books. 

He was happy spending time at Taeyong’s family’s store, perched on the oversized stepladder with his legs swinging high above the ground while Taeyong stocked shelves, eating sandwiches that various Lees unfailingly insisted he take. Doyoung often joined them, though Yuta, who was spending the summer at an intensive basketball training camp, was usually absent. Jaehyun found the ease with which Doyoung and Yuta seemed to be handling this inconvenience reassuring, although Yuta still came back home every weekend. 

He was happy, on the weekends when Yuta was around, spending hours in Yuta’s basement with Mark, working on new songs and covering songs by other artists they liked. The urgency of their band practices in the spring was gone now, and they played simply for the joy of it, and did other things for the joy of it too–talking, watching TV or playing video games, sometimes forgetting entirely about the instruments until inspiration would strike one of them and they’d fall back into playing again. 

He was happy at the river with the other kids, swimming and jumping from the bridge and messing around during the day, and getting drunk down at the sledding hill at night. And he was happy, blissfully happy, terrifyingly happy, upstream at the tree with no one but Taeyong. Dozing in the branches with Taeyong sweating quietly against his chest, reading in the shade or falling asleep with his head in Taeyong’s lap, swimming naked in their stretch of river, touching any part of Taeyong that he could reach, and kissing every part of him too.

He was happy at home–his uncle’s house had at some undefined moment started to feel truly like home. Changmin’s efficient cooking and their quiet shared meals, washing the dishes together, watching movies while his uncle read in his usual chair, falling asleep on the couch and having his uncle shake him awake to go to bed. The wariness that had hung between them in those first months had disappeared so thoroughly that Jaehyun couldn’t quite remember it had really been there–how had he not seen from the start the kind of person Changmin was, how gently and sincerely he cared? 

Of course, he especially liked being at home when Taeyong was there too, filling the silences at dinner or breakfast, whispering steadily through the movies, falling asleep on Jaehyun’s shoulder. And in his bed. They spent quite a lot of time together in his bed. 

Jaehyun slowly reined his thoughts back to his bed now, became conscious again of the sound of the rain and the arrangement of his body. He was on his stomach, his arm thrown heavily over Taeyong’s waist. The faint air conditioning hadn’t been enough to keep the humid stormy air from infiltrating the house and the sheets were kicked down around their ankles. Taeyong’s body was fully on display and Jaehyun lost himself in staring at it, the thoughtless sprawl of his long slim legs, his perfect ass, paler than the rest of him after a summer spent in the sun; the dip of his waist under Jaehyun’s arm and the flare of his wide shoulders. Jaehyun shifted over and nestled himself against him, despite their slightly sticky skin, pulling him tight against his chest, aligning their thighs. He had just woken up and was hard but his arousal had no urgency; it was pleasurable to press himself against Taeyong’s warm skin but ultimately it was a comfortable sort of pleasure, and after a few moments in which Taeyong sighed and laced their fingers together over his soft stomach, they both fell back asleep. 

When he woke again some time later the rain had become deafeningly loud and his erection was demanding more attention. He rocked against Taeyong, fully hard against his soft ass, and when Taeyong made a quiet half-asleep sound and arched his back he rolled him onto his stomach and fumbled, with one eye still squinted shut against the daylight, for the lube on the bedside table. He had been inside him the night before and it was easy to enter him again now. Taeyong moaned quietly into the pillow, as though the sensation still surprised him, and grasped Jaehyun’s hands. His shoulder blades jutted sharply into Jaehyun’s chest and his hips flexed. Jaehyun dropped his forehead onto the pillow too; their cheeks were pressed together and their breaths and quiet noises mingled. They made love slowly and instinctually, still half-asleep and without thought, just their shared and practiced pleasure. Taeyong grew more frantic as he got closer, writhing and lifting his hips, taking Jaehyun deeper, taking all of him. At the last moment he reached back and grabbed Jaehyun’s hip, his fingers digging in, pressing him tighter against him and then convulsing miraculously as he came, trembling around Jaehyun’s cock and moaning brokenly into the pillow. Jaehyun could not hold on after that, and spilled his own release into Taeyong’s shivering body before collapsing onto his back. 

Taeyong let out a winded huff under Jaehyun’s weight but didn’t protest or move at all. Instead, when he could speak, he said hoarsely, “I fucking love you, Jae.” 

Jaehyun smiled. He knew they only had a week of this left, only one more week of Taeyong’s near-constant presence, of having him whenever he wanted. But he was so happy. 

~~

The knowledge of Taeyong’s coming departure had settled somewhere in Jaehyun’s stomach, a gentle throbbing ache, not bad enough to ruin the gloriously sunny weather that had finally returned after all the rain, but there, always there, nonetheless. He could tell Taeyong felt it too, could see it flickering behind his beautiful eyes every time he caught his gaze, every time Taeyong didn’t look away when Jaehyun knew he normally would have. He seemed determined to look at Jaehyun as much as possible and Jaehyun relished every glance as though it were a caress. He loved having Taeyong stare at him. He loved that he wasn’t the only one feeling what he felt. 

On Tuesday, there was a goodbye party planned. It wasn’t called that, it wasn’t really called anything–probably it would just be another night at the river like all the rest–but Jaehyun thought of it that way anyway. It was the last week of August and Taeyong wasn’t the only one who’d be leaving at the end of it (though Jaehyun was far from the only one in their graduating class staying in River’s Bend). Doyoung and Yuta would be the first to leave, on Wednesday morning–they planned to drive the many hours it took to get to the university they’d be attending together. Since Yuta had gotten in early with his basketball scholarship, Doyoung had had plenty of time to apply too, and of course he was accepted. The thought of them going to school together made Jaehyun feel vaguely nauseous whenever he considered it, so he tried his best not to think about it. And he pretended the party on Tuesday would just be for them–he still had Taeyong for a few more days. 

Taeyong had to work on Tuesday, so Jaehyun spent the day aimlessly, biking along the river, jumping off the bridge with the other kids. Everyone seemed to be outside enjoying the weather, though Jaehyun thought there was a faint current of desperation even under the lazy bliss of a hot summer day, a need to make the most of it, a sense that this careless freedom was winding down towards fall. Jaehyun smiled and laughed with the kids at the river but he felt restless and bored and soon left them and headed back into town. Taeyong had hours left on his shift. His bike wheels flickered through the steaming puddles left by the rain, blinding in the sun. His bathing suit dripped water down his legs and the puddles sprayed water up and his wet skin was blinding too. He braked hard at Lee’s Market and had just propped his bike against the wall when he heard his name and turned to see Doyoung emerging from the store, closely followed by Yuta, both of their hands full of heavy bags. 

“Stocking up for tonight?” Doyoung asked. 

“Well—”

“He’s obviously here for the same reason he always comes here,” Yuta said lightly. 

“You can’t go in without a shirt,” said Doyoung, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes he can.” There was another blast of air conditioning from the opening doors, and Taeyong stepped out with his hands in the pocket of his red Lee’s apron. 

Jaehyun grinned. “Aw babe.” He threw an arm around Taeyong’s shoulders and kissed his cheek. He had never been good at keeping himself from touching Taeyong and over the summer he’d stopped even trying. 

Taeyong wriggled his shoulders. “You’re wet.” 

“Don’t pretend you don’t like it,” Jaehyun said, and kissed Taeyong’s neck. His skin was cold from the AC and felt like liquid against Jaehyun’s hot lips. He felt like something Jaehyun could drink. 

“On that note,” Yuta said brightly, while Doyoung pointedly looked away from them, “we’ll see you tonight. You know the spot, right?” 

“Where we had my birthday last year,” Taeyong said, nodding. 

Jaehyun straightened. “Wait, what? I thought we were just going to the usual spot.” 

“It’s a special occasion,” Yuta said, affronted. “Doyoung and I are both leaving tomorrow. Your dearest friends, gone! And you thought we’d just go to the usual spot. And for the record,” he looked at Taeyong, pouting, “I’m still sad I wasn’t invited to that birthday.”

“Oh, he was still scared of you back then,” Doyoung said, and Taeyong sputtered and shouted after them as they turned to cross the street to Yuta’s car.

So Jaehyun was not the only one thinking of it as a goodbye party, after all. He shifted his weight; the sidewalk under his feet had darkened with the water running off him. He hadn’t been to that part of the river since Taeyong’s eighteenth birthday the summer before–they’d celebrated Taeyong’s nineteenth birthday in Yuta’s basement instead (and then celebrated again, in Jaehyun’s bed, a few times over). He hadn’t avoided the place on purpose, he just hadn’t had any occasion to go, but now the thought of it made that ache in his stomach flare up again. He suspected there might be some sort of poetic symmetry in all this, if he chose to find it; if he let himself dip into sentimentality it was impossible not to remember that that stretch of river was the place where he’d first held Taeyong’s hand, where he’d first told Taeyong about Haru. Where he’d pretty much ruined everything, for a while, in a naive burst of happiness and butterflies. But now more than a year had passed, and things with Taeyong were far from ruined, and they’d done much, much more than hold hands. And almost harder to imagine than all that, Jaehyun was choosing to stay here in River’s Bend, a place he would never have expected would come to feel like home. 

“You okay?” Taeyong asked. Jaehyun blinked at him. His arm was still around him; Taeyong had not moved even though his shirt was damp now across his shoulders. 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun said, and smiled, and knew from the look Taeyong gave him that he could see through it.

“Let’s get something to eat.” Taeyong patted Jaehyun’s stomach, his cool palm lingering for a moment on Jaehyun’s skin, and then he turned and went inside the store.

Jaehyun followed, shivering as the AC hit him, though by now he was mostly dry. The store was bustling in its usual way; no one spared them a glance, not even half-naked Jaehyun. Taeyong grabbed them a couple sandwiches on the way to the office in the back. This was their frequent routine. 

“You want a sweatshirt?” Taeyong asked, as he closed the office door behind them and dropped the sandwiches on the desk. 

“I’m good,” Jaehyun said. There was a couch along one wall, a desk and chair along each of the other two. The light was off but the room was bright from the curtainless window above the couch, which revealed scraps of the sunny day outside. Jaehyun sank down onto the couch and Taeyong took one of the chairs and tossed him a sandwich. 

“Are you going to spend the rest of the week being sad?” Taeyong asked. 

Jaehyun had just taken a bite of his sandwich and he had a brief moment of real panic when it felt like he would not be able to swallow it, but the look in Taeyong’s eyes was gentle and after a moment of breathing through his nose Jaehyun managed. 

“What kind of question is that?” he asked hoarsely. 

“You’re right, that was stupid. I mean….” Taeyong took a bite of his sandwich too, frowning. “I guess I mean, do you think this is your fault?” 

“No. Wait. Do I think what’s my fault?” Jaehyun’s stomach ached and he put his sandwich down. 

“I mean are you blaming yourself,” Taeyong put his food down too, “for not coming with me. You shouldn’t blame yourself, you obviously shouldn’t, but I feel like maybe you are.” 

Jaehyun exhaled so fast he could hear it, a shaky pained sound right from his chest that seemed to fill the office even with the hum of the AC and the muted bustle of the store beyond the closed door.

“Yes,” Jaehyun said in a rush. “Yes, I’m thinking, what the fuck am I doing? I think it all the time. What am I doing, messing everything up and staying here, just because–just because I’m a little scared.” 

“It’s okay to be scared,” Taeyong said. 

“Don’t say that,” Jaehyun said. He leaned forward, elbows on knees, sandwich forgotten, looking up at Taeyong. “Stop being so fucking patient with me. You shouldn’t be letting me do this. You shouldn’t let me be such a coward.”

“You’re not a coward, Jae.”

“I love you more than I’m scared,” Jaehyun said. He was breathless, nearly panting. He wondered if he might have a panic attack. He wondered if he was already having a panic attack. He had been totally calm only a moment before. He had been fine all summer. Hadn’t he? “I know how much I love you. So what the fuck am I thinking?” 

“Maybe it’s not about being scared,” Taeyong said. 

“Can’t you just fucking yell at me or something?” Jaehyun slumped back against the couch and stared fiercely at the ceiling. “Can’t you just call me an idiot? You’d be right.” 

“You’re happy here,” Taeyong said. 

“I’m happy with you.” 

“I’m not the only thing here that makes you happy.” 

“You’re the most important thing.” 

Taeyong was quiet for a moment, and when Jaehyun glanced at him he was smiling, a small but deeply happy smile that made Jaehyun’s stomach ache in a completely different way. 

“You’re the most important thing for me, too,” Taeyong said. “What would you do in the city, if you came with me?” 

“I, well, I’d be with you,” Jaehyun said. 

“How many times do I have to tell you–you’ll be with me no matter what. You wanted to stay here for a reason. For reasons. Your uncle, the library, what this place has become for you. Reasons that aren’t about fear. I can see it, the way you are here, the way you are now. You seem–well, I think you’re happy.” 

“You’re leaving,” Jaehyun said. “Why did I think I could let you leave, and still be happy?” 

“Because you’re strong. I mean it, you’re the strongest person I know. Because I’m your most important thing but I’m not your only important thing. And that’s good, Jae. I don’t want to be the only thing that makes you happy. You deserve to have a lot of things.” 

“Don’t you want me to come?” Jaehyun stared up at Taeyong. “Can’t you just tell me to come?” 

Taeyong looked at him and seemed, at last, to be struggling to get his thoughts in order. Some of the tension went out of Jaehyun’s shoulders. He loved Taeyong’s calmness but he did not want to be the only one having a hard time with this. 

“I want you to come,” Taeyong said finally, quietly. “Of course I do. But I want you to do what’s right for you more. I really mean that. I’ve told you all of this already. I told you I almost begged. But then I think of what it would be like to have you come only for me, to have you leave these other things here that you also love—” He put a hand up to stop Jaehyun, who had opened his mouth to speak. “I know you love me more. But look–all the reasons to go to the city have been there all this time, not just me but also your parents, your old friends, everything else you like about that place. And all the reasons to stay here have been here, all this time. And you made your choice months ago and you still haven’t changed your mind, not really. You’re choosing to stay even though you know you’ll miss me, and I’m choosing to go even though I know I’ll miss you too, so much I can taste it already–I’m serious, it’s in the back of my throat, all the time, how much I’m going to miss you. But I’m not scared, I’m really not. I don’t want to be so important to you that you ignore all the other reasons in your life, all the things that tell you what choices you should make that will be good for you, you know?”

Jaehyun groaned and stared at the ceiling again, throwing his arms over his face. “Why are you so fucking reasonable?” 

“It’s either that or melt down completely,” Taeyong said, smiling, but Jaehyun looked up at him, and he thought Taeyong was being completely serious. 

“Yeah,” said Jaehyun, and they sat quietly for a long time. Jaehyun thought Taeyong should probably get back to work, but no one had come looking for him yet, and he certainly wasn’t going to bring it up. 

“If it’s really bad,” Taeyong said, and his voice out of the quiet made Jaehyun blink and lift his head, “If staying here and missing me is really bad, you don’t have to do it. You can come stay with me any time. Or you can go back to live with your parents. You can do whatever you want. I just think you should trust yourself, that you chose to stay here for now because it’s what you want for now. It doesn’t have to be what you want forever.” 

Jaehyun sighed. He felt drained. He felt uncertain. He worried he was making a mistake but he knew Taeyong was right: he hadn’t changed his mind, not really. He liked it in River’s Bend, he liked things here that weren’t only Taeyong. He wasn’t sure he really trusted himself yet but he did trust Taeyong, and Taeyong believed in him, in them, and that had to count for something. “I’m gonna buy a bus ticket,” Jaehyun said. “For October. I’m going to buy it before you even leave.” 

“That’s a good idea.” Taeyong grinned. “Jae?” 

“What.” 

“I love you.” 

Jaehyun looked up, and Taeyong was still grinning, and the summer light from the window lit up his entire face, and he was so beautiful Jaehyun almost couldn’t breathe. He stood up. “Lock the door.” 

Taeyong opened his mouth, closed it, glanced at the door and back at Jaehyun. He opened his mouth again, and then he stood up and locked the door. 

Jaehyun was on him before he made it back to his chair, tongue in his mouth, clutching at his hips. He wondered if he should be concerned about how aroused he could get when he’d been upset only a moment before. He wondered if this was what Sooyoung might call avoidance. But it didn’t feel like it–they’d talked plenty, now he was just out of words. Anyway, he didn’t really think it was fair to expect that he wouldn’t get hard around Taeyong, no matter what emotional state he was in. He pushed Taeyong’s pants down and lifted him onto the desk. 

“Someday,” Jaehyun said, freeing his cock from his bathing suit and grinding against Taeyong, “I’m going to fuck you with just that apron on.” 

Taeyong laughed, a sudden surprised sound, quickly but incompletely muffled by Jaehyun’s mouth. “No time like the present,” he said.

Jaehyun pulled back. “Seriously?” 

Taeyong said nothing, just slid off the desk and kicked off his shoes and pants, maneuvered out of his shirt without taking off the apron. He held his arms out to either side, dropped his shirt with a flourish, gave a big showman’s smile.

“No way,” Jaehyun mumbled, staring, reaching down to touch himself, until Taeyong turned around and leaned over the desk, and he nearly came. “Wow.” 

“You’re really into this?” 

“I’m really into you,” Jaehyun said. But he was also, apparently, really into the apron; it was insanely erotic, though he wasn’t entirely sure why. Maybe it was just the way the ties looked, knotted loosely around Taeyong’s waist, so the bow sat crookedly at the base of his spine. The way the minimal coverage it provided only served to draw attention to Taeyong’s nakedness. And they were in the office of Taeyong’s family’s grocery store, on top of all that; they’d never even kissed here before. “Hey,” Jaehyun said, looking up. “There aren’t cameras in here or something, are there?” 

Taeyong looked up at the ceiling too. “I don’t think so. I mean, I doubt it. I mean… I really hope not.” 

“Good enough for me,” Jaehyun said, and sank down to his knees. He worked Taeyong open urgently, with his mouth and his fingers, and soon Taeyong’s hand was in his hair and he was tugging him back up to stand, not gently. Jaehyun’s nerves all seemed to be firing at once and when he pushed Taeyong down so his chest hit the desk, he thought his own knees might give out just from the sight of him. He wasn’t even inside him yet, but the anticipation was almost more than he could take. He’d been noticing this oversensitivity in the past couple weeks, when they had sex and other times too, even when they barely touched. He suspected his worry about time running out was heightening every sensation, making him pay closer attention to everything he could get. 

Jaehyun rubbed himself over Taeyong’s entrance, until Taeyong bucked back against him. “Hurry up,” he hissed. 

“Patience,” Jaehyun murmured.

“It’s not like we have a lot of time. Look where we are—” His words cut off abruptly when Jaehyun entered him, all at once, maybe more roughly than he should have. Taeyong’s body jolted forward instinctively, but he settled quickly. 

Jaehyun put his hand on Taeyong’s spine, over the ties of the apron, and held himself still with some effort. “Are you—”

“Yes,” Taeyong gasped, his voice tight, his entire body tight and quivering. “I’m fine. Fuck me.” 

So Jaehyun did. They quickly realized they couldn’t do it against the desk, which banged into the wall, making enough noise that anyone checking out the dairy section would know exactly what was happening in the office. So Jaehyun led Taeyong over to the couch, nearly threw him down in his excitement. He really hadn’t meant to be so forceful but Taeyong just started laughing uncontrollably as he bounced onto the cushions with the apron twisted up around his waist. He was laughing even as Jaehyun entered him again, breathlessly; he wrapped his arms and legs around Jaehyun tightly and laughed and gasped and it was only after they came, one after the other in no time at all, that Jaehyun realized Taeyong’s cheeks were wet. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think there was anything to say, and anyway maybe it was just from the laughing or the fucking. But he kissed Taeyong’s face and his shoulders very gently and stroked the soft skin on the inside of his elbow, over and over again, as Taeyong caught his breath and quieted. 

By the time the inevitable knock on the door finally came, and then a jiggling of the doorknob and an exasperated shout of Taeyong’s name, they were both fully dressed, and the color in their cheeks had faded to a glow that could pass as sunburn and summer heat. The couch was luckily clean, the apron not so much, but thankfully the mess was on the inner side of the fabric so no one would notice. Jaehyun, for his part, wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to look at the Lee’s logo the same way ever again. He squeezed Taeyong’s hand before they opened the door, and Taeyong turned back and smiled at him, a smile brimming with everything they had said and everything they didn’t need to say, and then they stepped out into the cool bustling store and Taeyong went back to work. 

~~

When they arrived at the river hours later, Jaehyun was surprised how small the group gathered there was. He had assumed the whole usual crowd would just have transplanted itself to this part of the river for the special occasion of Yuta and Doyoung’s departure, but it was really just Yuta and Doyoung themselves, Mark and a couple other underclassmen, a few basketball players and other friends from their class. Despite their small numbers, the group was already making a huge amount of noise. Jaehyun and Taeyong had managed to find them mostly by following the shouting and the more chaotic jumble of sound that gradually distinguished itself into music playing from a little speaker hanging from a branch. 

“How long have you guys been here?” Jaehyun asked Doyoung, while Taeyong wandered off to get drinks.

Doyoung shrugged. “Not that long.” 

Jaehyun looked around skeptically. Everyone already seemed impressively drunk, so either Doyoung had lost track of the time or they’d all been downing shots steadily since they arrived. A few kids were laughing in the grass, a girl carried another girl around on her back, and most of the basketball team seemed to be missing at least one article of clothing. A tangled silhouette was making out against a tree across the clearing and Jaehyun thought he counted too many limbs for it to be only two people. 

Doyoung followed his gaze and grinned. “It’s the end of summer,” he said, “And the end of high school. What do you expect?” 

Taeyong reappeared and handed Jaehyun a plastic cup. Jaehyun wasn’t sure he could stomach it, but Taeyong drank from his own cup with enthusiasm, and then, when he’d finished his and noticed Jaehyun’s was still mostly full, he drank Jaehyun’s too. Jaehyun was more than happy to give it up, especially since Taeyong got progressively cuddlier as he drank. First he hung onto Jaehyun’s wrist, or his shoulder, as they talked with other kids or watched the various contests, both drinking and physical, that people seemed to constantly be proposing. Then he wrapped his arms around Jaehyun’s waist from behind and perched his chin on his shoulder, which Jaehyun liked quite a lot, especially since Taeyong had to stand on his toes to do this and kept swaying unsteadily into him, his hips bumping gently into Jaehyun’s ass. On his third cup he wrigged under Jaehyun’s arm and hugged himself against his side. Taeyong was not keeping up much conversation anymore, though he’d chime in occasionally, his cheek smushed into Jaehyun’s chest and his voice vibrating suddenly through Jaehyun’s ribs. By the time he finished that third cup he was letting Jaehyun carry most of his weight, which was requiring more and more concentration and exertion, and finally Jaehyun extracted himself from the crowd and found a stretch of grass to collapse on. 

He sat down, and expected Taeyong to flop down beside him, but instead Taeyong climbed into his lap and rested his head on his chest. Jaehyun huffed, a little annoyed and a lot endeared. “Comfy?” 

“Yes,” said Taeyong. “You have a very nice pillow. I mean chest.” 

Jaehyun snorted. “Thank you.” 

Taeyong put his hand on the other side of Jaehyun’s chest, and Jaehyun thought for a second he might have fallen asleep, but then he suddenly pinched Jaehyun’s nipple. 

Jaehyun jumped and made an undignified yelp, clutching Taeyong’s wrist. “Ow! What the fuck?” 

Taeyong giggled sleepily. “What? I like it when you do this to me.” 

“I’ve never done it so hard,” Jaehyun said. “You nearly ripped my nipple off.” 

Taeyong huffed. “You have done it hard,” he said. His voice was a little slurred. “But I still like it.” 

“Hmm,” Jaehyun said, shifting a little under Taeyong’s weight. “What else do you like?” 

Taeyong just kept giggling, his hand sliding off Jaehyun’s chest and landing limply against his stomach instead. Before Jaehyun could ask again, Yuta flung himself down in the grass beside them. 

“Jaehyun!” 

“Having fun?” Jaehyun asked, raising an eyebrow. Yuta seemed to have joined the basketball players in their mysterious shedding of clothes and was only wearing boxers, sneakers, and a baseball cap. 

“Obviously,” Yuta said. “Are you?” 

“Well,” Jaehyun said, nodding down at Taeyong, who really had drifted off to sleep now, his limbs all soft and heavy in Jaehyun’s arms. Jaehyun’s right foot was starting to fall asleep. 

Yuta snorted, then stretched out on his back and put his arms behind his head. “It’s gonna be weird leaving,” he said. Despite his lack of clothing, his voice was perfectly clear and Jaehyun did not think he was actually drunk. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Jaehyun said. 

“Sure you would,” Yuta said. “You left home too, to come here.” 

“That was different.” 

Yuta shrugged, staring up at the sky. “I can’t believe I fell in love,” he said, grinning suddenly. 

“Why not?” 

“You just don’t expect it, right?” 

“Mm,” Jaehyun said. His foot was fully asleep now, had stopped even tingling. “I can’t believe….” 

Yuta turned to look at him. “What?” 

“Nevermind.” 

“What?” Yuta insisted.

“I can’t believe he did, with me,” Jaehyun said softly.

Yuta elbowed him gently in the leg. “Oh please. You’re very lovable.” 

Jaehyun laughed and shook his head. Yuta looked back up at the sky. 

“You’re lucky you’re going to school together,” Jaehyun said, after a moment. 

“Yeah,” said Yuta. “I hope we’ll be okay.”

Jaehyun looked at him. “Why wouldn’t you be? You’ll be together.” 

“Yeah, but everything will be so different. We’ll be busy, and I’ll have basketball, a team, right from the start. I want him to find his own things there too. I don’t want to hold him back. He already turned down his top choice school for me. That’s kind of terrifying.” 

“I think it’s nice,” said Jaehyun. “He loves you that much.” 

Yuta glanced over at him. Jaehyun looked away, out on the river. “Yeah,” Yuta said. “There’s not only one way to love someone though. You can’t compare your situation to anyone else’s.” 

“I’m not comparing,” said Jaehyun.

Yuta snorted. “Okay.” 

“I just want to know I’m doing the right thing.”

“I don’t think you can know that until you actually do the thing,” said Yuta. “But usually–not always, but usually–if it turns out not to be the right thing, then you can do another thing, and see if that one is right.” 

Jaehyun blinked fast and turned his face away. “Yeah, that’s true. Usually.” 

Yuta reached to pat his leg, realized Taeyong’s legs were there instead, and changed direction to pat Jaehyun’s elbow. He sat up. “You’re both lucky,” Yuta said, glancing at Taeyong. “I really think you’ll be fine. Like ten years from now I’ll be at your wedding, that kind of fine. I mean it.” Jaehyun laughed. “And I don’t care who you meet in the next ten years, I better be your best man.” 

“Okay,” Jaehyun said, smiling, his chest warm. “Deal.” 

Yuta leaped up and put one hand on Jaehyun’s head and one hand on Taeyong’s head and ruffled their hair vigorously. Taeyong jerked awake, groaning in protest, and Yuta leaped out of reach as Taeyong aimed a kick at him. “I love you both!” Yuta yelled, disappearing into the crowd and the darkness. 

“What’d he do that for,” Taeyong said. 

“You’re pouting,” Jaehyun said, looking down at him. 

“He woke me up.” 

“God, you’re so fucking cute,” Jaehyun said, and nudged his face into Taeyong’s sleepwarm cheek, kissing him until Taeyong tumbled out of his lap and nearly rolled right into the river. Jaehyun caught him, laughing, hovering over him, and kissed him again like he meant it, because he did mean it. He meant it more than anything. 

~~

Taeyong would leave at the end of the week. It was Saturday. The end of the week was here. 

The past few days since Yuta and Doyoung had left had been quiet. Jaehyun had been surprised how much of a difference their absence seemed to make. Most of the usual places were still as crowded as they ever could be in such a small town, but two people he could always reliably seek out in those crowds were gone now. Their absence was lessened, somewhat, by the reliable flood in their group chat that started almost as soon as Doyoung and Yuta left–they apparently felt the need to document every gas station they stopped at on their day-long drive to school, and Taeyong, Jaehyun, and Mark replied with equally dull photos in kind, until it became almost a competition of who could send the most mundane pictures. Still, it felt strange not to hear their constant chatter on a daily basis. 

Maybe because of this, maybe because they just wanted to be alone together, he and Taeyong had spent nearly all their time at the tree. They did the usual things. They didn’t talk about Taeyong leaving, because they’d said everything they needed to say about that and now all that was left was for it to happen. Sometimes they didn’t talk much at all, just sat together or floated in the current or kissed or did more than kiss. And it was pleasant, it was beautiful, even though Jaehyun knew things would soon change. 

On Friday he spent all morning at Taeyong’s house helping him pack, which consisted mostly of Taeyong handing him something and directing him which bag to put it in, and Jaehyun putting it dutifully into the correct bag, and then Taeyong taking it out and putting it back in again, with no discernable difference that Jaehyun could see. Taeyong fit everything he needed into one suitcase and a duffle bag, and when he refolded the last shirt that Jaehyun had apparently folded wrong and zipped up the duffle, announcing vaguely that he’d be able to buy anything else that couldn’t fit, Jaehyun started to cry. 

Taeyong didn’t notice right away, just continued talking to himself, running through the checklist he’d kept in his mind the whole time. Then he looked up, and saw Jaehyun, and his eyes widened. 

“Oh,” Taeyong said. “Oh, Jae.” 

He put his arms around Jaehyun and held him and Jaehyun couldn’t stay quiet then, and sobbed. He had become familiar with a lot of different types of crying in the past year, and this crying was the type without any one reason, without thought. The duffle bag could not have been the reason, on its own, though of course packing was a very tangible reminder of Taeyong’s departure. But Jaehyun had the sense, as he cried, that the whole year was wrapped up in these tears. The huge piece of himself that he had lost in a car on a rainy night the previous spring, a piece of himself that he’d never get back, that would always be lost. And the new things and places and people he’d managed to love since then. The unbearable and miraculous discovery that what he’d lost had only been a piece of himself, in the end, not his whole heart. The whole terrible and surprising and beautiful year. 

Or maybe it wasn’t any of that. Maybe it was just the way Taeyong had been quietly talking to himself the whole time he’d been packing; the way he patiently refolded every single piece of clothing Jaehyun tried to fold without even the slightest irritation, just because he couldn’t help himself; the familiar expressions that flickered across his face when he was thinking and didn’t know he was being watched. The fact that Jaehyun knew, as he sat there feeling more and more overwhelmed, that if he started to cry Taeyong would hold him, immediately, and that would be enough. 

Somehow the crying turned into kissing, and the kissing turned into undressing, even though they rarely did this at Taeyong’s house, with its more numerous relatives and more frequent interruptions. But they stayed very quiet, sitting on the edge of the bed, Taeyong rocking in Jaehyun’s lap, and they were not interrupted. Jaehyun came with his face pushed into Taeyong’s chest, and then he maneuvered them around and took Taeyong in his mouth until he came too, biting his own wrist to keep from making noise. They dressed again, mostly, and lay across the end of Taeyong’s bed holding onto each other. Jaehyun had cried himself out and then the orgasm had left him spent and yet he felt very full, somehow, and it was not a bad feeling. Taeyong murmured to him, steadily and nonsensically, and at some point Jaehyun realized he was only saying his name, over and over again, an endless reverent whisper. 

Jaehyun had planned to let Taeyong spend the last night with his family, and he went home for dinner, but he quickly realized he couldn’t bear it, and went back to Taeyong’s house. It was late, but his mother opened the door and smiled, and patted Jaehyun’s cheek as she let him in. He returned to Taeyong’s room and Taeyong’s grin was ridiculously wide at the sight of him. 

“Thank god,” Taeyong said, and they curled up together and slept, surprisingly soundly. 

And now it was Saturday. They woke early, groping for each other, and fucked, a little nervous and a little giggly and a little desperate, as the sounds of Taeyong’s family making breakfast filled the house. Jaehyun was struck by how accustomed he must have gotten to the quiet of his uncle’s house, because Taeyong’s house seemed very loud, though it was still nothing compared to the apartment he’d lived in for most of his life. 

“How do you sleep through this racket?” Jaehyun whispered, out of breath. He kissed Taeyong’s ankle, which was up on his shoulder, and then bit it. 

“I don’t,” Taeyong whispered back, his hand working down between their stomachs to touch himself. “Fuck.” 

“Is it just that you’re about to leave, or does this feel especially good,” Jaehyun said, and started thrusting harder, but then caught himself when the bed creaked, and slowed down again. 

“I don’t know,” Taeyong breathed, “but it really fucking does. Fuck, I love you Jae.” 

Jaehyun leaned down and kissed him, bringing Taeyong’s legs with him on his shoulders, bending him in half, and Taeyong shuddered. “I love you. So much.” 

“I’m close,” Taeyong said. “Hurry.” 

“The noise,” Jaehyun hissed. “Your bed is loud as fuck.” 

Taeyong laughed breathily, and then clapped a hand over his mouth as his eyelids fluttered and he clenched around Jaehyun’s cock. Jaehyun felt Taeyong’s release spurt suddenly onto his stomach, and he dragged a finger through it and brought it to his mouth. The way Taeyong looked up at him when he did that, the way his eyes widened with shock and heat, and the salty bitter taste of Taeyong on his tongue, was enough to make Jaehyun come too. 

They had barely caught their breath when Taeyong’s sister banged on the door and yelled at him to get down to breakfast, and they broke apart quickly, scrambling, Jaehyun feeling embarrassed until they glanced at each other and started laughing.

Breakfast was a chaotic affair, and Jaehyun sat next to Taeyong and watched the bustle of Taeyong’s mother on the phone about a delivery to the store, and his father in the kitchen, and his sister relaying a long list of mostly unhelpful advice she’d received from a friend who was a senior at the same university Taeyong was attending.

“I think you need better friends,” Taeyong remarked mildly, around a mouthful of eggs. “All I’ve learned from her are which drug dealers will give pretty girls a discount. Which is extremely creepy, by the way, in addition to being useless for me.”

“Well, you’re pretty,” Jaehyun said. 

Taeyong’s sister snorted loudly while Taeyong threw a well-aimed napkin at Jaehyun’s face and said, “Are you encouraging me to flirt with other men for drugs?” 

“Wait, no….” 

And then they were bringing Taeyong’s bags downstairs and loading them into the car. And then they were squeezing themselves into the car, all of Taeyong’s family and Jaehyun too, squished between Taeyong and his sister in the back. And then they were driving off to the bus station. Jaehyun was used to this route now, after visiting his parents throughout the year, and it was strange to realize that Taeyong had never taken this bus to the city like he had, and stranger still that this had never really occurred to him before in any real way. He had known, factually, that Taeyong had never been to the city himself. But now it struck him what this really must mean, how big of a deal it was. He had been so focused on them being apart, and he thought of the city as such a familiar and inconsequential place himself, that he had forgotten that Taeyong had been dreaming of this exact moment since he’d been a kid. He was suddenly oddly excited. He had his own bus ticket for the first weekend in October, and he couldn’t wait, and for the first time his eagerness was not only to see Taeyong again after spending time apart, but also because he would get to see Taeyong in the city, in a place Taeyong had always wanted to be; he would get to see all the familiar things all over again through Taeyong’s eyes, and it would be new and beautiful for both of them. 

He held Taeyong’s hand tightly and smiled at him, as the faded bus station came into view by the side of the highway ahead, and it felt like the most real smile he had given anybody, ever. And Taeyong smiled back, and Jaehyun could see the excitement there in his eyes, and the nerves too. The car was slowing. His heart felt too big for his chest. Everything was about to change, but he thought, he knew , they would still manage to be okay. He would still manage to be okay. He certainly had managed to be okay so far, against all odds. Better than okay, really; he had managed to be good. 

“I love you,” he mouthed, as the car pulled to a stop, and Taeyong beamed, and mouthed it back. 

I love you.

~~The End~~