Some stories are meant to entertain, and some stories are meant to enlighten. Some stories are meant to break your heart and the dam holding back your tears, and some are meant to make you laugh so hard that your stomach hurts. Some stories begin with poetry and end with some witty remark, and in between the two is love and strife and a cast of memorable characters.

 

Kim Jongin has no way to make his story interesting anymore. He is simply trying to make it to the next page.

 

He comes home after his nine to five desk job to a clean, moderately furnished home. His husband, Do Kyungsoo, has returned from his own management job a local retailer, and is preparing dinner. "TV's fixed," is all Kyungsoo says when he hears the door open and Jongin toes off his shoes, nodding absently. Kyungsoo doesn't hear the acknowledgement, but he doesn't repeat himself.

 

Dinner is a flagrantly dull affair. Kyungsoo recounts the tales of particularly idiotic customers, smiles and huffs politely at Jongin's failed attempts at humor, and Jongin compliments the food and expresses his relief at being home. When Kyungsoo meets his eye across the table, he sees a tepid affection and comfort. Kyungsoo's eyes are as wide and beautiful as they always have been, but they are transparent. He sees everything he expects to see.

 

Verse, chorus, verse. He knows this life like he still remembers the last dance routine he performed. The world is no longer mysterious.

 

Jongin cleans the dishes, and Kyungsoo takes a shower. Jongin showers and Kyungsoo reads his book. They watch a half-hour episode of a weeknight television show that neither of them particularly care for. They go to bed, Kyungsoo facing the window and Jongin facing Kyungsoo's back.

 

Lather, rinse, repeat.

 

 

 

 

If Kyungsoo still loves Jongin, he loves him in a way Jongin doesn't understand anymore.

 

 

 

 

"How long has it been since you guys have had ?"

 

"Luhan," Jongin says, shocked, "our lack of intimacy isn't the cause of our problems; it's a symptom."

 

"Okay, but how long has it been since you guys have had ?"

 

Jongin can't win with Luhan. The man has a good heart, but he's also a fiend, and Jongin doesn't know how on earth Minseok puts up with him. He sighs. "More than two months. We're just too tired, Luhan. It's like we're tolerating being in the same room, but we're not seeking each other out anymore."

 

Luhan hums, swirling his bubble tea around the cup and nudging a pearl aside. Jongin frowns. " is a very important part to any relationship," is Luhan's verdict.

 

Jongin sighs. "I know that. One thing at a time, though. I at least want to be able to kiss him like we actually enjoy kissing."

 

"Sweep him off his feet? I like it, that's a good plan. Classy, not too forward."

 

"That's not..."

 

"Come on, Kim Jongin!" Luhan bursts. "Where's your sense of adventure?!"

 

Jongin doesn't think he has the energy for a sense of adventure. He's just in a funk when it comes to Kyungsoo, and he's positive things will get better with time. He just doesn't know when. Luhan notices the tone of his last sentence out of context and, being a perpetual middle school student at heart (and facial appearance), snickers to himself, "IN BED."

 

"Our problems won't be solved with on a regular basis."

 

"You don't know that."

 

No, he really doesn't know how Minseok puts up with him.

 

 

 

 

Once, when Jongin had tried to draw them out of the aforementioned funk, he had made sure to wake up earlier than Kyungsoo on a Saturday morning. He slipped silently out of bed and shut the door as he exited the bedroom, and found himself in the kitchen.

 

He had tried to make breakfast that day. Kyungsoo woke up when he smelled something burning, and immediately came to the rescue, looking furious.  "What do you think you're trying to do?" he had shouted.

 

"I'm just -- I was just trying to ing help," Jongin snarled right back.

 

"Well, don't. You're just making a mess I'll have to clean up again."

 

"I -- I was going to clean it up, I was just, I just wanted to--"

 

"If you cleaned up, I would just have to redo everything anyways. You never wash the dishes clean because you haven't figured out that the dishwasher doesn't actually work and, oh, who said he was going to fix it last week, huh?"

 

They spent the rest of the weekend walking on eggshells around each other, and Jongin stopped trying, even though he saw what was clearly guilt etched across Kyungsoo's face.

 

 

 

 

Jongin comes home and while he slips off his work clothes in favor of changing into something more comfortable, Kyungsoo enters the bedroom.

 

Jongin pauses. This, this has to be significant. This has to mean something. They have subconsciously fallen into the habit of giving each other a wide berth when either was in any state of undress. Jongin stands in the middle of the bedroom, pajama pants slung low on his waist with a part of his boxer brief's elastic band showing. Shirt around his wrists in mid-dress, Jongin watches his husband's eyes trail down his body, starting at the crest of his collarbones and sliding down over his pecs, his muscled arms, down to his defined abs and Kyungsoo suddenly and stiffly looks away after beginning to follow Jongin's v-line into his pants with his eyes. Something dark and unpleasant curls in Jongin's stomach.

 

Kyungsoo is Jongin's husband. None of this should be shameful. Jongin used to pleasure Kyungsoo with his body on a regular basis, used to make Kyungsoo feel warm and safe in the cradle of his arms, and now they're this. It feels like living with a stranger, sometimes, someone you don't have an opinion on, someone you're overly polite to for a lack of knowledge on how to interact.

 

"Your mother called a little after one." Kyungsoo's words are rushed, as if he is in the thick of enemy territory and wants nothing more than to retreat to safety. "She wanted to talk to you but said your phone was off. It sounded really important, you should - you should, um, should...call her back right away."

 

The disruption in Kyungsoo's voice can be attributed to Jongin's experiment of making a show of putting on his shirt. He stretches his body out and up, arches his spine prettily. Once upon a time, Kim Jongin was a dancer, and a good one. He remembers how to make himself look inviting without effort.

 

And Kyungsoo, Kyungsoo is still affected by this, and Jongin treasures that hitch of breath more than any of the trophies packed carefully away in the back of his closet.

 

Kyungsoo scampers back to the living  room, a safe zone. Jongin makes the return call to his mother.

 

"Why was your phone turned off?" his mother asks suspiciously.

 

"It was dead. Sorry, Mom."

 

Jongin doesn't message or call very many people anymore, and he and Kyungsoo have long stopped back-and-forth texting. It's not usually a big deal if he phone goes dead for a few days.

 

His mother goes on after a few moments. "Your grandmother's assets were finally settled over the weekend."

 

"Oh." This has been a long, tedious process, but luckily hasn't resulted in any strain in family relationships, which has been Jongin's primary concern. In fact, he thinks his family has gotten somewhat closer ever since the death of his grandmother, having been brought together by grief and the need for comfort. "What's the verdict?"

 

"Your father and I came into the possession of a few things, and a bit of money. We're figuring out how to divide it between you and the girls right now, but -- but, that is not why I called you." Her voice takes on a firm self-scolding tone. "I keep distracting myself, Jongin! Do you remember that old property your grandparents bought and built on?"

 

Yes, he does. Jongin's grandparents had a crazy dream in their 70s to build a simple cabin in the middle of nowhere and live off the land and the local market. Before they could actually move in, Jongin's grandfather's health began to rapidly decline, and their dreams had been shelved.

 

Jongin thinks he can relate.

 

"Yeah. What about it? Is it yours?"

 

"That's what I want to talk to you about. No one really has anything to do with it, but no one has the heart to sell it, either. It's where my parents fell in love with each other again, Jongin, it's where they...felt young again."

 

Jongin thinks back to his bubble tea date with Luhan. Where's your sense of adventure?! Jongin said he can't do adventure now, but he has time. He wonders how much time he really has.

 

"Your grandmother hired a caretaker to work there, but no one has been up there since she died. And, well, I don't blame anyone, what with the weather and all. But you and Kyungsoo are young and squirelly! It's perfect for you two, all secluded in the snowy mountains. Completely isolated and completely romantic. Why don't you both take a week or two off, go up there, clean up a bit, and have a second mini-honeymoon? If you like it, you can keep it as a vacation home, and if not, we can figure out what we're going to do with it."

 

"Er, Mom, I don't think--"

 

"How is Kyungsoo, by the way? I haven't seen him in a while! He's never with you when you stop by! Yaaah, Kim Jongin, you better be taking care of my son-in-law!"

 

"Yes, he's fine, he's doing well, but that's--"

 

"Oh, did you hear that? The bread is done, honey, I have to go pull it out. I'll talk to you later, okay? Make sure you're eating well and getting enough sleep. Bye!" She hangs up without a response.

 

Feeling a vague sense of whiplash, Jongin sets down the phone. He wanders down the hall to find Kyungsoo curled up cutely under a blanket on the couch, small hands propping up his book, silver wedding band flashing in the light as he turns a page. Jongin heart aches a little. His husband looks up.

 

"What did your mother want?"

 

Jongin sighs and sits down on the other side of the couch, rubbing his temples. "My parents officially inherited a property up north my grandparents owned."

 

"Oh?" inquires Kyungsoo politely.

 

"Yeah. She." Jongin clears the thickness out of his throat. "She wants us to take it. Said something about us being 'squirrelly?'" 

 

"Squirrelly?" Kyungso repeats, confused.

 

"Her words, not mine."

 

"But what does that even mean?"

 

"I have no clue. But she wants us to go up soon for a few days, so we can make sure everything is in good shape and get a feel for the place, and we can talk about what to do with it if we decide we don't want it."

 

Kyungsoo's eyes narrow in bewilderment and maybe even in judgement. "But Jongin, what would we do with a place up north? Live there?"

 

"No, it's just a single-room...hut, honestly. And the last I remember of it, it wasn't really by anything. The closest town is fifteen miles away from it. It could be a getaway. Or something. It's up in the mountains, so there's not a lot out there. It's quiet and it's big. Do you wanna....?"

 

Kyungsoo raises an eyebrow. Definitely judgement. "You...want us to take off work for a vacation together?"

 

"I mean....is that......." Jongin cuts himself off and gazes quietly at Kyungsoo, mouth open with a lack of words. This is an awful idea. Kyungsoo doesn't want to spend time with him. Spending genuine time together just stresses them out. Jongin knows this. After a minute more of just staring at each other in silence, Jongin finally shakes his head. "I know, it's stupid. You probably need to save your time off, and stuff. I'll just take two or three days to go up there myself and make sure everything is working well, make sure everything is locked up, I don't know. You don't have to come." Jongin stands up and begins to leave, but Kyungsoo's quiet voice stops him.

 

"It's cold outside."

 

Jongin pauses and glances back at Kyungsoo, only to find the older staring at the window, where a pile of snow drapes over the sill. The light streaming in is glaring, so bright it momentarily blinds Jongin, and when he focuses back on Kyungsoo, he sees stars. "Yes," says Jongin carefully. "It's January."

 

Kyungsoo blinks owlishly and turns back to Jongin, looking disoriented. "I don't know, Jongin. Maybe. We'll see."

 

It's more than Jongin expected.

---

 

yeah yeah okay i forgot said friend has to work, so you get unedited version