It was Winter. The clock had already 12 at night. And yet Yunho was still awake, in the kitchen, sipping on water to nurse his worn out throat. A teenage boy clad in nothing but shorts and a t-shirt did not escape his sharp attention.

“Junsu, what are you doing in the middle of the night?” Yunho asks, placing the cup of water he was holding on to the kitchen bench.

Taking a look at Yunho, Junsu slowly turns his attention back towards the television, “TV”

“Aren’t you cold?” Yunho asks even though he already knows the answer as he takes a seat next to the rather lonely looking boy and gently covering them both with a thick blanket.

Immediately, Junsu snuggled into Yunho without a word. Yunho does not say anything when Junsu’s icy cold fingers brush over his skin.

It was something Yunho was already use to. Comfortably, he placed an arm around Junsu, “Junsu-ah, is there something wrong?” Yunho takes a glance at the television that wasn’t even on, naturally he would wonder what Junsu was still doing up so late at night.

“I knew you’d come look for me”, pulling the arm around his shoulder, Junsu shyly looped his fingers with Yunho’s fingers, he always loved how Yunho’s hand was slightly bigger, his fingers slightly longer. It was so much warmer, “you’re so warm.”

Yunho doesn’t know what had happened to upset Junsu like this, he gently allows his free hand to card through Junsu’s soft hair. He is grateful that Junsu would come seek comfort from him, and even though Yunho does not know the reason to Junsu’s erratic behaviour, he knows that when the younger boy settles down more, he would tell him. Patience is virtue.

Shifting a little, Junsu places his head on Yunho’s chest, he covers the left side with his ear, his soul calming down at Yunho’s steady heartbeat.

“You…”, Yunho whispers softly when he realises that Junsu had quickly fallen asleep. His hand naturally goes to caress soft pale skin. Yunho stares at the peaceful looking face of Junsu and smiles softly. Junsu was someone he didn’t want to stop doting on. Someone he wanted to protect forever.

.

.

.

“So cold, so cold” hushed whispers escaped pale, pale lips, “I’m so cold, so cold.”

Junsu rubbed his hand irregularly across his skin, an attempt to warm himself up. If he were already feeling that cold, he did not even want to imagine how cold their fans must’ve been. Under the cascaded roof of the Seoul Jamsil Olympic Stadium.

It was a wintery night. And Junsu was not alone and he was most certainly wearing just shorts and a t-shirt. He had s, he had his fans. He had their encouraging words, their passion, their smiles and he had his own. He was happy even though he felt like he could not possibly any colder, even though he was lacking a soothing pair of big and warm hands.

There was about a month left till his birthday, Junsu wondered if it would be too much to ask for if he prayed to God for the owner of the warmth he missed so terribly much.

.

.

.

The colour was wrong. It was too bright, too cheery, too red. He needed to go back to having black hair. From blond bronze to red to black. It was to be ever-changing. Junsu ruffled his hair lightly and then stopped, it felt different to the way Yunho would ruffle his hair when they were having fun. Scowling at his now messy hair, Junsu skilfully picked at his hair, ordering it back to neat and tidy.

It needed to be black again. There was determination in Junsu’s eyes and a confident smile on his face as he turned his hair back into black again.

The different colours he had dyed over the many years when he was still a part of DBSK had so swiftly been compressed into one year – 2010 as JYJ. He didn’t want to think too deeply into the underlying meanings, but how could he not when he looked at his own reflection every day, his fingers brushing across the rock hard mirror, wondering to himself why it always seemed so cold, so cold.

.

.

.

“Junsu-ah, what’s wrong?” Yunho’s caring voice found its way into Junsu’s ear.

“It’s so cold”, Junsu whispered back, refusing to unwrap his arms from Yunho.

Yunho takes a better look at what Junsu is wearing and sighs wearily before he lectures Junsu with a scolding tone, “it’s Winter and you’re still wearing such thin clothing, do you want to catch a cold or something!?”

“Yunho, you’ll always keep me warm right?” Junsu looks up at the slightly older man with pleading eyes, “so that on days like today, I can wear nothing and I’ll still feel warm right?”

The leader of DBSK wonders why Junsu looks so scared, looks so anxious as though he were struggling to believe in what he had always believed in.

“Junsu-ah, I may no longer be able to always be by your side and hold your hand”, Yunho speaks truthfully, he can see the pain and understanding in Junsu’s eyes, mirroring his own feelings, “but you know I will always love you.”

Junsu wants to tell the other that that wasn’t enough for him. That love itself wasn’t warm enough for him. But he doesn’t say anything as he stands on his tip toes, tilting his head back a little so that he could plant his lips on Yunho’s lips.

Yunho takes Junsu’s initiative as agreement. He returns the kiss, his arms automatically moving to support Junsu better. To pull the other into a better position for a long awaited kiss.

“I can keep you warm for the whole of tonight”, Yunho tells Junsu before he tenderly pushed Junsu against the bed.

“Okay”, Junsu smiles a little sadly as he reaches up to caress Yunho’s face, wiping away tears. There was a dull ache thumping in his heart. But his sense spontaneously withered into oblivion when warm fingers worshipped his skin, the only thing he refused to do was let his eyes flutter close. Yunho was, Yunho is, Yunho’s face, his scent, his expressions, Junsu wanted to remember it all.

It was warmth filled with feather light touches and kisses that refused to leave regrets.

“Happy Birthday”

.

.

.

You wake up from your slumber with a jerk. You’re back in reality. Today is December 15th 2010. Finally, it’s Xiah Junsu’s birthday again and there’s nothing more you want to do but celebrate XiahDay with a warm smile first thing in the morning.

As you try to pull the corners of your lips into a smile, you already realise that a smile had already graced your features. The only memory that remains of the dream you just had were the two simple words – “Happy Birthday.”