It's not like Sungjong doesn't know the way Myungsoo feels about him because he does, really. It's mostly got to do with the fact that Myungsoo is doing a terrible job hiding it even when they are surrounded by others -- he might as well be flashing up bright neon lights of those three words above his head for the world to see.

(And let's not even talk about how much more obvious it becomes when it's just the two of them alone.)

He supposes Myungsoo knows that he knows, and hopes that it's enough for the older boy, just so that he won't do something that'd make Sungjong's heart aches more than it already has lately. But there are moments when it seems like it's not enough, for Myungsoo, and Sungjong needs to rely heavily on his ability to read Myungsoo like an open book so that he can stop things from happening.

Often times, though, he would be caught so off guard that he nearly fails to do what he's got to do -- damn Myungsoo and the way he kisses, so so tenderly.

"Sungjong, I-"

"Stop," Sungjong says, and he immediately misses the warmth against his lips that's no longer there. It's eerily quiet in the room now, and he gives himself a few moments before opening his eyes, all the while praying Myungsoo has looked away when he does.

Myungsoo hasn't, and the hurt Sungjong finds in his face is almost too much to bear.

"Just," he tries, the words he wants - needs - to say get stuck in his throat, but he has to force them out.

"Just please, don't say words I can't return to you."

Sungjong doesn't know what's worst: the way Myungsoo visibly cringes at his words, as though they've just wounded him physically; or the smile Myungsoo is able to put back on his face shortly after, one that is gentle as ever, and yet so so broken, so defeated; or the lie that Myungsoo whispers against his hair when he finally holds him close again.

"Okay," Myungsoo says.

There is nothing okay about this, Sungjong wants to scream, but he keeps his mouth shut because he doesn't know how to make things better either. He wonders if he should've just lied -- how hard would it be to fake those three words anyway?

But Myungsoo deserves so much better than a liar to love.

+..+

It isn't like Myungsoo hasn't noticed the change because he has, really. He may not remember exactly when it all started, but as days went by, he began to pick up the signs: a hand on his shoulder that lingers a little longer than usual, a blush a shade darker that spreads across the younger's face whenever Myungsoo kisses him, the way Sungjong leans in closer when they cuddle, as if he rues the gap between them, as though he honestly, genuinely likes to be that close to Myungsoo.

Myungsoo runs all the possibilities in his head and knows with conviction which one he likes best, but he has learned the hard way not to get his hope up high, because God does the fall hurt.

So he just takes what he can get, silently treasuring it while trying so hard not to get overwhelmed by it all, because then he would lose control and say things that would upset Sungjong.

It shouldn't matter that it actually pains him, to feel so much affection for Sungjong that his heart almost bursts and yet he can't let it show, at least not by words. No, what matters is that Sungjong is still here, by his side, even after all this time, and that he's not just dreaming the brown strands of hair that feel too soft against his fingers.

He leans down to kiss the crown of Sungjong's head, and pulls away just as the younger's eyes flutter open.

"Hey," Sungjong says, his voice still heavy with sleep. But he looks up at Myungsoo and his gaze doesn't stray, as if he's trying to take in everything he sees.

Myungsoo suddenly feels so self-concious. He rubs the back of his neck and warily asks, "What?"

"I love you," Sungjong says, simple and easy, as if it's something he has said a thousand times.

Myungsoo blinks, instantly wonders if he is indeed dreaming.

In the following seconds that passed while he's still trying to process what he's just heard, Sungjong has managed a pout. Myungsoo laughs and leans down, his thumb running along Sungjong's forehead to smoothen the frown he finds there.

"Seriously, Sungjong-ah. Of all the times you could've said the words, you just have to pick one moment where I can't kiss you senseless for that."

Sungjong pouts some more.

"But why not?"

"Morning breath stinks, you silly," he says matter-of-factly. He lets out a chuckle, but it dies down as soon as Sungjong wraps his arm arounds his neck and pulls him close.

And kisses him senseless.

"That's exactly my point," Sungjong grins when they finally break apart for some air. "I love you," he nudges Myungsoo's chest with his finger as if to make sure Myungsoo gets it, and Myungsoo has never smiled so wide in his life his cheeks are hurting - in the best way possible, "despite the stinky morning breath, and messy bedhair and disastrous fashion sense and all that."

Myungsoo rolls his eyes while matching the grin, "Yeah yeah, whatever," but then Sungjong tugs the hem of his sweater and just like that, he understands.

"I love you, too."