The rustle of sheets was of a nature so faint that the sound barely met Minseok’s ears, the only thing alerting him of the sudden change being the pair of strong arms that circled his waist and tugged him into a lithe, warm body. Despite the lack of much movement, he could distinctly feel the ripple of muscles under the skin of his company, thin tank top doing nothing to mask their physique. He naturally sank back into the other, tiny body fitting like a puzzle piece when pressed against the other’s much more built form.

            “I can’t sleep, hyung.”

            The words were quiet as a fairy’s whisper, more like an offhand breeze that snuck in rather than the voice of a human. They seemed distressed; scared even, breaths shallow and aura reeking of displacement. There was another silence as Minseok nodded in understanding, small hands resting over the other’s slightly shaking pair in hopes to calm them down since they seemed so out of sorts.

            “I’m here, Zitao.” He spoke softly, lips tweaking into a gentle, yet impish smile. Those three words were enough, he knew from countless nights like these. They’d repeat themselves like a mantra of images almost every night in the EXO-M dorm, no matter how great the day had been. No, Minseok would be roused from his much needed slumber or caught just as his brain was shutting down by a little panda by the name of Zitao that would crawl into his warm and welcoming bed, then proceed to snuggle the eldest until daylight when a groggy Wufan or snickering Yixing would wake them up for the day. Not that he minded, he actually quite enjoyed having the younger man holding him so close, so close that he could hear his heart thudding softly inside his chest. So close that he could feel the gentle caress of Zitao’s breath ghosting over his skin, so bloody close that he felt as if he was floating on a cloud into the unknown.

            “Hyung?”

            “Neh?” Minseok answered in the tiniest voice he could muster, somewhat afraid of what would happen if he dared to speak louder. The younger looked so fragile in his current state, more like a cowering baby panda rather than the usually strong leopard that was Huang Zitao. It stabbed at his heart with a sharp point to see his darling Taobear in such a paper-thin position, as if he could burst into tears any moment, and his only desire was to make Zitao feel better (if possible).

            There was a thick, pregnant pause as Zitao scrambled to pick up his words that scattered upon hearing the older’s placid tone, filled only by several shallow breaths falling by his lips in desperation to calm his heart that was beating at a pace reminiscent to that of a rabbit’s. He unintentionally gripped Minseok tighter, the smaller male’s body pressed flush against his own for comfort and protection. It held some sort of calming effect to have the stable other in his yearning arms, almost as if Minseok had become his drug. It was hard to admit that sleeping without the understanding older was near impossible at that point, living without the wise yet naïve man deemed as fictitious in his mind. Zitao had fallen prey to the charms of the eldest member, an act that had only existed in the minds of delusional fan girls for months.

            But that one night, when the rain was relentlessly beating down on the windows and the dark room seemed to be an abyssal area of loneliness, he had found himself slipping into Minseok’s warm bed, a shivering and hollow shell devoid of emotion from the overwhelming sense of sullenness that the violent rainfall had carried. It was then, when he found himself enveloped in a tight embrace from the other, that his heart fluttered like the wings of a lazy butterfly, pulse speeding up and heat rocketing over his skin like fiery imps tickling him. It was then that he resembled a wasp caught in forming amber, heart and soul sewn to Minseok’s with invisible thread held by lady fate. It was then, at the mercy of the gods, that an incredulous idea dawned in his mind like a twilit horizon in the unsightly hours of the morning. The idea that he, Huang Zitao, was in love with Kim Minseok.

            “It… it was the nightmares…” he whispered in slow korean, accent so thick that he could’ve sworn that Minseok wasn’t able to decipher his words.

            “Again?” Minseok’s caring response proved Zitao’s theory wrong, his small hands gripping the younger’s much larger ones gently, soft and unworn palms smooth as heated marble on his skin.

            “N-neh.” Zitao nodded, Adams apple bobbing as he took a gulp of air in hopes to somewhat calm the erratic beating of his heart.

            The nightmares were of a rude nature, inviting themselves to dwell in Zitao’s subconscious without so much as a call beforehand, much like those neighbors that you secretly dislike but they insist on coming to your house almost daily. Birthed in the early side of the scale of Zitao’s trainee days, they relentlessly kept appearing, knocking on the bolted door of his dreams before just picking the lock and waltzing in without a care. They hurt, more than Minseok could ever comprehend, and he was well aware of the fact. He knew that the imagined scenes, comprised of Zitao’s family, group mates, and even smtown sunbaes just leaving him to fend off the world by himself, hurt the maknae like millions upon millions of needles pricking his skin, leaving him an emotional wreck without any barriers up to keep himself safe.

            You see, Zitao was never the quiet and strong type. He couldn’t pull off being stoic and unaffected by the world around him, despite the intimidating persona that SM gifted him, no matter how hard he tried. Pretending wasn’t even possible for him, as he’d end up a laughing idiot if he was ever trying to impersonate that for fun, or a sobbing mess if the cruelness of reality hit him with a blow devoid of clemency. It would leave him crying his whole soul out on the shoulder of the nearest member, or sometimes even just his pillow that somehow still smelled like home. And that member was preferably the calm and open eldest, identified as Kim Minseok.

            Of course, it wasn’t as if the other members weren’t there to help him recover, because if you were to say that, you’d be lying. Even Joonmyun and Kyungsoo, who had never been given much of a chance to bond deeply with the EXO-M maknae, would gladly offer all of their heart to make Zitao feel better any minute of the day, even at their own expense. That’s just how EXO is. But there was something about the vertically challenged, sweet Kim Minseok that lured Zitao to his side each time that sadness crashed into him like a wave on an empty beach, emotions scattered throughout the ocean that was the immense depression that somehow lurked inside the bubbly Chinese man’s mind. Something that had him letting out all of his emotions, no matter how ugly they became, on Minseok, who just took them all with a gentle smile and unbreakable stature. Something so portentous and alluring that Zitao found himself utterly baffled by the attraction he felt for Minseok.

            “I’m so sorry, Zitao…” Minseok muttered, gripping onto Zitao’s hands in an attempt to comfort the shaken younger. Zitao only hung his head sadly, face burying into the smooth curve of Minseok’s neck, taking deep (albeit shaky) breaths that resulted in him taking long whiffs of the older’s scent. Plum, baking bread, and vanilla he mused as the homely smell overtook his senses and grabbed ahold of his mental reigns, leading him down a road paved with thoughts centered on the virtually perfect Kim Minseok.

            Another silence took them in its firm hold, a moment in which Minseok found himself absentmindedly the silky skin pulled over Zitao’s worn hands, body curling into the younger’s in a fashion similar to that of a baby cuddling up to its mother. The backs of his knees gently pressed against the other’s kneecaps, calves fitting against Zitao’s much like puzzle pieces would as they basically linked together in an embrace that they both wanted to go on until the end of time. But they both knew that time wasn’t on their side, and the uninviting start of a new day filled with schedules would forever be on the bloody horizon. They both knew that moments like these, when words weren’t needed, were as precious and tenuous as the shell of a robin. It only took one mistake for it to crack into a million little pieces, destroying whatever had been harbored inside the flimsy covering without any warning.

            But that was somehow fine. They could live with a world of no words, as it seemed that silence was much more inviting than noise the majority of the time. Silence was rarely your enemy, more like a childhood friend that sometimes committed seemingly unforgivable crimes to you, but was always there to support you from falling. Noise was often just a distraction, a pestering veneer constructed to hide the truth from you. Silence was the only thing that could describe Zitao and Minseok’s relationship; it was the only thing in the whole world that understood the broken humans that were Huang Zitao and Kim Minseok.

            It was that fact that made Minseok’s heart waver in sadness every time that his unfortunately logical brain stumbled over it, that made him just want to dig his own grave and mourn his loss in it until someone dragged him out. His loss of mental control, which he could thank Zitao for. He could no longer think anything without his mind somehow associating it with the perfect Huang Zitao. There was something about the tall, inky haired, emotional baby panda that had him tripping over his own feet. Something that held his mind in a suffocating hold that left him confused and Zitao-oriented for the longest periods of time. Something that managed to give birth to a white orchid of hope in the depths of his restless heart. A white orchid that lived only in hopes to love and receive love in return.

            Maybe it was that idyllic thought that left him a numb doll in Zitao’s arms, warm hazelnut eyes reflecting the blossoming of a dream. A speckled lily poked up from the soil in his mind, a warm light setting over the busy landscape in attempts to coax all of his thoughts into a steady, unstressed pace. Dreams tended to have that effect on Minseok, clearing his usually racing mind and replacing it with a bright world free of worries and problems. It was a truly tiny dream to be honest, but it desired to thrive. To make itself known. And the little dream knew nothing but one thing, and its whole body and soul was sacrificed into the thought that one thing had to be true. It just had to be.

            The thought that Huang Zitao loved him.

            The dream grew and grew like an overfed cat, forcefully taking hold of the remote that controlled Minseok and wiping his brain clean of anything besides the cute, charming, emotional, tall, feline, panda-eyed, strong, perfect Huang Zitao. The Zitao that he knew loved him. Maybe the younger didn’t even know it yet, but he loved Minseok. There was no doubt present as he told himself that in a way similar to that of a mantra’s beat, smile gracing his soft features as he found himself holding Zitao’s hands tighter than ever, body nearly shaking in sheer joy.

            Zitao knew he loved Minseok. He knew it like the worn rod of wood that he had been bequeathed with when he was a child just starting his martial arts training, on which he could sort out each polished knob and scratch. He knew that one fact better than he knew himself. He knew that denying his love for Minseok would only result in his downfall, and that in turn uncovered the fact that him never telling Minseok would also give him a hard push off the cliff of reality, sending him tumbling down into some dream realm where Minseok just knew that the younger loved him. But that was too good to be true. No, this was in his own hands. Now was the time, silence wasn’t in cahoots with him this one time.

            Taking a deep, shaky breath, he lifted his head just enough so his lips were no longer pressed against Minseok’s skin, air skimming over the hot skin in warm gusts. Now or never he could distinctly remember chanting to himself as his lips parted, muscles tense and mind scattered with billowing papers that read doubts.

            “Minseok, I-“

            “I know.”

            That was the last thing he expected to come from Minseok, the shock rendering him unable to respond for seconds that he could’ve sworn were actually hours. He knew? He knew what? It wasn’t possible that he knew that Zitao loved him, that wasn’t even imaginable. As he scrambled for a response, the number of doubts blowing over the frenzied landscape of his mind only grew, making his breath hitch and heart nearly stop beating.

            “Y-you know what?”

            There was a rustle of sheets before Minseok had managed to pull himself away from Zitao, sharp eyes glistening in the slivers of moonlight as he looked at the confused younger, features soft as that of a marble bust as his smile only widened. His hands, small and sturdy, landed on top of Zitao’s as he dared to scoot a little bit closer, heart beating erratically in his chest all the while.

            “You love me, don’t you? Huang Zitao.” He spoke with a voice as soft as downy dandelion tufts, pink lips forming each word almost sinfully. In Zitao’s mind, it couldn’t possibly he legal for someone to be so… perfect. No, every bloody thing about Kim Minseok had to be against every law, every ing moral that he held. And the way that he deftly knew about Zitao’s feelings without any vocal hints astounded him, leaving him shell shocked for a good minute or so.

            Was it that obvious? Could Minseok really decipher his thoughts just by his actions, even if a single word of affection had not been spoken? Were the nights that they held each other, skin flush against skin and hearts beating at the same pace, some tell off? Any sane, intelligent person would know that yes of course that was some sort of hint, but Zitao was neither sane nor intelligent when it came to Mister Kim Minseok. He was a lovesick, hypnotized boy with about a spoonful of a brain whenever Minseok would come to mind or even be mentioned. He was like an elementary student who just happened to fall head over heels for the prettiest, most cherubic girl in his class, who would smile with a mouthful of missing teeth yet still be painstakingly beautiful with her little pigtails and glittering eyes. He was an idiot, an idiot who didn’t even need to confess because his feelings were plainly laid out over his features like a stamp in red ink; seen by everyone except himself.

            “You… I… what?” he stumbled over the simplest words, tongue numb and mind reduced to a blank sheet of lined paper.

            “You. Love. Me.” Minseok repeated with emphasis on each of his words, squeezing Zitao’s hands just a bit more. “Correct?”

            Silence. A nerve-wracking silence that during which Zitao began clamming up, heart smashing against his ribcage like a caged animal as his breath hitched, air coming out in shallow huffs that made his chest constrict in a fashion like an anaconda.

            “Y-yes.”

            It had just come out. His tongue was numb, hell his whole mouth was, but that single word had somehow slipped out like a runaway in the dark of night, dissipating into the air after lingering for several moments. Minseok’s eyes obtained a certain sparkle that strongly resembled those of tears, smile faltering as if someone held the puppet strings and decided to start tugging on them. He gripped Zitao’s hands in a suffocating hold, his own pair literally shaking from an overwhelming sensation that washed over him like a tide in the full moon.

            “You love me?” he asked quietly, as if trying to question himself that he wasn’t dreaming. Wasn’t dreaming that dream that had repetitively visited him on the nights that Zitao would accompany him in rest, that goddamn dream that thought it was funny to dangle some sort of treasure in front of his face before blatantly pulling on the string that held it, raising the item out of reach. That goddamn bloody dream that he had only wished, prayed for it to be real. And here he was, on his knees and begging, begging to be rewarded just this once. Just this once be able to feel his dream like a reality. It had already coaxed him into believing that it was the truth, but some doubt still remained.

            “N-neh. I… I love you, Kim Minseok.” Zitao spoke in a tone barely above a whisper, trying to make himself heard. The words rolled so comfortably off his tongue, as if he was meant to be saying them. He was meant to love Kim Minseok. “I love you.”

            Tears. That was all Minseok could manage as a response at that point, his heart inflating to the point that it just popped like an overfilled balloon, pieces flying down to the pit of his chest in a joyous resonance. The salty crystals trickled out from the corners of his dewy eyes, rolling over his pink-dusted cheeks before falling in silence to the sheets below him, tiny dark spots appearing in their wake. His hands desperately clung to Zitao’s, face buried in the younger’s chest before another thought even clambered into his mind. A strong pair of arms once more pulled his small body into a tight embrace, chests pressed against each other and frantically beating hearts hammering against each other like they were trying to break out to meet the other.

            It wasn’t long before Minseok felt a warm liquid soak into his caramel brown locks, the lithe body he was practically attached to shaking with sobs that choked the younger’s quiet voice right out of him, arms quivering albeit he kept holding the older. It vaguely hurt that he was the cause of the violent tears, like the sharp jab of a needle whilst getting a shot. In attempts to remedy the seemingly inconsolable cries, he pulled his face away from the tear-dampened shirt that clothed Zitao’s chest, raising his shoulder just enough for the younger to fit his face into the nook of his neck. The notion worked, Zitao’s head falling onto the welcoming shoulder immediately as he desperately pulled at the back of Minseok’s shirt to reassure himself that this was real. That he was actually confessing, being held by the object of his utmost affection.

            That he had somehow fulfilled his wishes.

            Tears drenched the thin fabric of Minseok’s shirt, Zitao’s quiet sobs finally settling to uneven hiccups and sharp breaths. The older’s hand s under the cloth of the inky haired boy’s shirt, fingers gently ghosting circles across the soft landscape of mildly tanned skin in a chaste manner. Zitao’s head just barely lifted up from the wet area he created, causing Minseok’s neck to crane just enough to see the younger.

            “I love you too, Zitao.” Minseok managed in a barely-there voice.

            And then it was like the world all fell into a blissful peace.

            Zitao managed to pull his face away from Minseok’s soft skin, his dark eyes dampened by tears as he managed to lock his gaze with the older’s. It was like grand arches of sparkling lights shot off in the murky backdrop of Minseok’s eyes the moment the Chinese youth really looked at them. It was beautiful. Minseok was so beautiful. A soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth before he leaned in, heart jumping into his throat once he felt the older’s hot breath grazing over his lips. It was like ice chilled all the blood coursing through his veins, but he refused to stop moving. Huang Zitao was never one to give up.

           Ever.

           Soft, warm lips met his as his nose brushed tips with Minseok’s, Zitao’s whole world rejoicing once he finally caught sight of the truth that had been hiding all along.

           Minseok was Zitao’s. Zitao was Minseok’s. The world couldn’t be better. Because he knew that from then on, he would never have to feel around blindly for affection. He had his own love who knew his feelings, and embraced them. And that was all that Zitao could ever ask for.

           “I love you, Minseok.”

           “I love you too, Zitao. Forever.”

{{ le fin. }}

omg guys sorry for the late update otl

i've been super busy lately ; A ;

but i hope you enjoy this!