He waves goodbye as Jungsoo exits his house after staying over for lunch. His apartment is all silent and empty again, but this time he doesn’t feel the loneliness.

“You know, I could almost fall in love with you,” he mutters to no one in particular, then freezes as the gravity of his own words strike him.

Falling in love is a foreign concept to him. Sure, he’s dated before – dated many times before, and it’s not like he’s never had some form of a relationship, albeit a little twisted, with a guy before. But he’s never really loved someone before, which may be why all his relationships have barely lasted over a few months.

He ponders on the concept of love.

He skims his bookshelf and picks out a book; the classic fairytale, Cinderella, a book he had purchased mostly because of his title as Super Junior’s Cinderella. The pages are a little worn, with the book being one that he reads most often – he’s heard that life and love is nothing like a fairytale, and his love life more than proves that, so he satiates the childish desire for fantasy within him by reading fairytales; things which allow him to immerse himself in something perfect. His temporary escape from the imperfection of reality.

A Prince Charming who accepts Cinderella for who she is, even without the fancy dresses and wealth and false beauty achieved by expensive adornings; he supposes he can view that as Jungsoo in a way, his perfect friend, and himself as Cinderella. The one who has temporary moments of stunning beauty, radiant and proud, and the one who is nothing better than a lifeless servant at times; not that he’s ever been treated like one, of course, but in the sense that he’s had his ups and downs.

And Jungsoo had been there to experience majority of his ups and downs, and he had been there to enjoy the good parts and he had been there to pull him through the bad parts. A Prince Charming who had always been there by his side regardless of how ugly he seemed at times.

He wonders why he’s only noticed it now; the prince who had never left his side, always quietly supporting him and yet never asking for anything back in return. The friend who loved him despite all his flaws and imperfections, the friend who has always been by his side.

It took him so long to find his Prince Charming – no, he corrects himself, not find, because Jungsoo had been there for a long time. It took him so long to realize that his Prince Charming – ironic, a while back he would’ve believed it to be his princess, but fate has its own weird ideas about life and love sometimes – had been right there all along.

Is this what people call love? A good question, something worth pondering. He is aware that Jungsoo loves him, but he knows not to what extent. He knows Jungsoo loves him as a friend, a friendship that both of them mutually share with one another. As for a different kind of relationship that the word ‘love’ suggests, he knows that Jungsoo feels it to some extent – the way he stiffens and his eyes dilate when he leans in too close or brushes against Jungsoo’s skin, the way he had kissed him desperately; but he doesn’t know to what extent.

He doesn’t quite know or understand his own feelings, either. He knows he loves Jungsoo as his perfect friend – a thought that has always driven him to feel guilty, considering he isn’t as perfect a friend to Jungsoo as Jungsoo is to him – but other than that, he has zero idea.

He wouldn’t call it love, not yet. Just the small inkling of interest and curiosity. When Jungsoo kissed him, he hadn’t minded; he had actually enjoyed it quite a little. And when he had dared Jungsoo to kiss him earlier, there was a small part of him that actually wished he had.

But it isn’t love.

Not yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s never experienced it, so he can’t classify this expression known as ‘love’. But he’s not ready to confront his feelings about Jungsoo, not quite yet. He knows the prospect of being in love terrifies him; he’s terrified at the possibility that he may be in love with his friend, and terrified at the possibility of it just being a temporary thing.

The kiss. It could have been something that triggered him into thinking about everything that Jungsoo had done for him, a shocking realization that Jungsoo loved him as more than a friend and that the possibility of him doing the same was also there - but it could also be something that was so sudden, so shocking that it was some form of a forced love, a love that was there temporarily.

He doesn’t know.

He opens his eyes, greeted by the familiar wall of his room across from his bed. The familiar emptiness begins to settle in his chest, then he’s suddenly reminded of Jungsoo, and he feels a not-so-familiar warmth calm his senses.

He fell asleep past three last night after gaming, partly because he genuinely enjoyed gaming, partly to take his mind of Jungsoo.

Who knew love was such a troublesome thing?

He shakes his head. I’m not in love.

He’s never felt this way with his past girlfriends before – but then again, he reminds himself, he got all of them in the blink of an eye; they never made him think about ‘maybes’ and ‘what ifs’. They were just there, readily kissing him, eager to go out with him.

You could have Jungsoo in the blink of an eye if you want, the voice in his head whispers.

The idea is tempting, to see the leader powerless in his hands. And yet there’s something that stops him, prevents him from doing so, something that whispers to him that Jungsoo matters a whole world more than any of his previous lovers.

Even Siwon?

Siwon. The man he had been with before his enlistment; the man he had gone to most recently, albeit extremely drunk. The closest he had been to ‘love’ before.

If Jungsoo hadn’t kissed him that night, if Jungsoo hadn’t made him ponder about love, would he have fallen in love with Siwon?

He clicks on a name.

The name at the top of his contacts list.

“Hello?” The phone line is crackling a little, but he hears his friend just fine.

“Jungsoo?”

“What is it, Heechul?” There’s a shifting sound in the background.

“Kiss me.”

“What?” Jungsoo is clearly flustered, given how his voice shakes a tiny bit in incredulity. “Heechul, I’m recording now. I have schedules today.”

“Later, then.”

Jungsoo sighs. “I said no, Heechul.”

There are more noises in the background, someone yelling Jungsoo’s stage name, then Jungsoo tells Heechul he has to go, and then the annoying ‘beep’ sound that signals he’s hung up fills the room.

“Jerk,” Heechul mutters under his breath. “Fine, later.”

He busies himself with boring tasks just to fill up his time; he doesn’t have schedules today, and he’s forgotten how mind-numbingly boring life was during breaks. He straightens chairs that he’s never sat on, washed mugs that he’s never used, tidied the bookshelf that he barely touched.

He’s bored. Bored out of his mind; which is most likely the reason why he practically dives for his phone when he hears a notification sound.

He doesn’t know what makes him anticipate it to be Jungsoo, and he doesn’t know what causes the disappointment he feels when he realizes it isn’t.

It’s Siwon. A simple three-word text.

I miss you.

He knows what these three words entail. The last time, he had gone straight to him, he had let him do whatever he wanted.

He wonders what’s stopping him now.

He ignores the text and places his phone aside, turning back to his computer for gaming.

He wonders how, in the span of a few days, the one he’ll go to is Jungsoo and not Siwon now.

No, he corrects himself once again, he had always gone to Siwon. But Jungsoo had always come to him whenever he called; whenever he needed his friend, Jungsoo would go to him.

Time passes faster when he’s absorbed in gaming, and he’s glad. He stops after a game to order food for lunch; he finishes that quickly enough, and he’s back in front of his computer.

He’s partway through a game when the doorbell rings, and he can’t help but to growl under his breath in annoyance. It rings again and he scowls, leaving his seat in front of the computer to answer the doorbell.

He opens the door, not bothering to hide his bad mood. He’s met with a figure a lot more muscular than he is, and a little taller.

“Siwon?” He questions. “What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t reply to my text,” Siwon responds with a small frown. “Why did you ignore my text, hyung?”

“I read it, but a delivery came and it slipped my mind,” he explains smoothly, thankful for his actor side when Siwon seems to buy it. “Sorry. What did you want?”

“I missed you.”

“It’s only been a month since we last saw each other.”

Siwon raises his eyebrows. “We used to see each other every day last time, you know.”

He chuckles quietly. “Yeah, that’s true. I guess we’ve both been busy these days, huh? And now we all live apart from one another, and we’re not as active nowadays, so it gets harder and harder to see each other.”

“Hyung.” He’s taken aback at the odd, unusual desperation in Siwon’s voice. “I love you.”

For an instant he’s shocked into silence at the sudden confession; a phrase he hadn’t heard leave Siwon’s mouth since six years ago, and a deep sorrow he hasn’t seen in Siwon’s gaze since they parted ways six years ago. “I love you too,” he says, his eyes softening.

“I missed you,” Siwon whispers, a vulnerable shell of the man with the charming, charismatic, manly image. He feels Siwon’s breath tickling his ear as the taller man moves closer to him; he doesn’t move away, but he doesn’t move forward either.

“I missed you too,” he responds, and yet his body doesn’t move as Siwon trails familiar kisses down his neck, getting rougher by the second.

“Is something on your mind? You seem distracted,” Siwon says, stepping back for a moment.

He stares blankly at the younger for a moment before responding. “No, there’s nothing,” he says with a small smile. “I’m sorry, I slept late last night. I must be a little tired.”

Siwon nods, buying his excuse. “Do you want to rest? Did I interrupt you when you were resting?”

“No, it’s okay,” he says, and this time he’s the one to make a move, pulling Siwon closer to him.

I’m distracted.

Take my mind off it.

You’ve always been able to do that well.

Take my mind off Jungsoo.

He trails light kisses along Siwon’s chiseled jawline, breathing in his scent that was so different from Jungsoo’s in a way. Siwon gives off a nice scent in a manlier way, reminding him of those strong muscled guys who are forever in the gym, reminding him of those guys who are strong enough to protect someone against anything. Jungsoo’s give off the sense of a strong guy too, but with this calm gentleness, someone who would hold someone close instead of standing in front of them to shield them.

Siwon responds instinctively, entangling his fingers in his hair and bringing their faces so close that they could feel each other’s breath heating each other’s cheeks. He’s more aggressive, the little tugs at his hair, the kisses along his skin that get rougher as they turn into small love bites. Jungsoo’s kisses are more tender, more passionate, soft butterfly kisses along his skin that turn into deeper ones as time goes by, little tentative nibbles along the surface of his skin, his hand around the back of his partner’s neck holding him close.

Stop thinking about Jungsoo, he scolds himself mentally, responding to Siwon with the same amount of aggression, roughly grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him down so they would be face-to-face with one another.

Their eyes meet, clouded and lost somewhere between desire and emotion. Siwon, impatient, is the first to make a move. Siwon’s lips crash down hard onto his, so rough he wonders if it’ll leave a mark. He kisses back with equal force, refusing to lose in a battle of dominance.

He kisses back, but it feels so wrong, somehow.

He doesn’t understand at first. He doesn’t understand why his heart, his emotions are just a dull splash of grey. He doesn’t understand why he’s half-forcing his body to react, almost as if he were present but somewhere else at the same time.

Park Jungsoo crosses his mind.

In that moment, the realization strikes him harder than a bolt of lightning, and he looks at the man before his eyes.

And he pushes him away.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.