“I love you.”

 

It’s just three simple words, three syllables, eight letters, and one giant mistake.

 

“I love you.”

 

Seconds tick by, two, then ten, then thirty, a whole minute… an eternity.

 

“Taekwoon, did you hear me? I said I love you.”

 

Gods, what is he thinking? I can’t read his face at all! He’s just… glaring. What does that mean?

 

It could mean anything, of course. Jaehwan should know that by now. That glare is trademark Taekwoon. It’s his happy face, his sad face, his angry face. Usually Jaehwan can pick up on the tiny differences, but his nerves are making it difficult to concentrate on the little muscles around Taekwoon’s mouth that twitch up with a smile or the ones between his eyebrows that pull them together when he frowns.

 

“Taekwoon,” he tries again, and this time he sees Taekwoon's eyes dart back and forth, scanning the room to see if anyone else is paying attention to them.

 

Hakyeon and Hongbin are both standing by the kitchen counter, staring, paused mid-conversation to hear Taekwoon's response. Sanghyuk, who was reading on the couch, has looked up from his book. Only Wonshik is smart enough to pretend he isn't listening, but Jaehwan knows he's just as interested, even if his eyes are still focused on the screen of his laptop.

 

Taekwoon shifts his weight uncomfortably and his lips before finally parting them to answer.

 

“Gross,” he says, barely a whisper, “why?”

 

Jaehwan opens and closes his mouth, a rare case of speechlessness seizing him. He glances at their friends again. Hakyeon and Hongbin have resumed their previous discussion and Sanghyuk has his nose buried in his book, hiding behind it. Wonshik throws him a sympathetic look before returning his eyes to the computer screen. Jaehwan can't think straight, can't even begin to process the situation. Feeling his face burning with humiliation, he does the only logical thing he can think of. He runs.

 

He skips the elevator and takes the stairs three at a time, nearly missing the last step and bursting through the stairwell door into the apartment lobby. He takes a moment to drop his shoes and step into them before dodging an older couple entering the building on his way out.

 

Stupid, this is so stupid!

 

It was just a mistake at first, a slip of the tongue, but once the words were out there Jaehwan knew he couldn't take them back so he didn't try, just plowed forward and hoped for the best. Besides, it's not like it isn't true. He thought the worst outcome would be flat out rejection, but gross? It hurts more than he's willing to admit.

 

He makes a decision upon entering his own apartment and falling into bed to roll around and whine, that the only thing to do is to avoid Taekwoon. Clearly what they have doesn't mean anything to him. His feelings won't be hurt if it just ends.

 

Taekwoon stands frozen in place. He doesn't follow Jaehwan, doesn't even call out to stop him. Taekwoon's ears are scarlet as he looks around the room, half expecting everyone to be staring at him, but they're not. Only Wonshik is even looking his direction, but he's watching the door, probably hoping Jaehwan will return.

 

Finally Wonshik places his computer on the floor and grabs his phone. He brushes past Taekwoon on the way to his bedroom, very quietly telling him, “You ed up, hyung.” Then he’s gone, and Taekwoon is left to contemplate just how big a mistake he’s made.

 

“Out,” he insists, his voice soft but still commanding, and the others look at him for a moment before Hakyeon nods and ushers Hongbin and Sanghyuk toward the door. Gentle fingers squeeze his bicep as Hakyeon walks by, along with a reminder for Taekwoon to call if he needs anything. Taekwoon nods, and when he hears the door fall shut behind them, he drops into the recliner.

 

It was never planned, this thing he and Jaehwan have. It's just something they both fell into. They started out sitting closer together on the couch, their legs and arms touching and occasionally Jaehwan’s head falling onto Taekwoon's shoulder. Jaehwan would reach for Taekwoon's hand when they walked side by side. He would carefully smooth wrinkles from Taekwoon's clothes or sweep his hair behind his ears. Their hugs lasted longer, and Jaehwan's lips began finding their way to the bare skin between the collar of Taekwoon's shirt and his ear.

 

Eventually Taekwoon started to return the affectionate gestures. When they were alone together he would straighten Jaehwan's collar. At the studio he would wipe smudges of paint from Jaehwan's face, only to leave a trail of charcoal behind in its place. Instead of passively accepting hugs, his arms would wrap around Jaehwan, clinging to the back of Jaehwan's shirt to maintain his equilibrium when Jaehwan would whisper words into his skin that set his nerves on fire.

 

And then one day enough was enough. Something snapped, or maybe the tiny cracks in his mask of indifference could no longer withstand the strain of holding back and it shattered, leaving him bare and raw and unable to restrain himself.

 

Everything changed.

 

The moment their lips met for the first time an invisible line was crossed, the line between friendship and something more. They just fell into it. Jaehwan fell in love, and maybe, despite the proof of his recent actions, Taekwoon did too.

 

Their relationship, because if he's being completely honest that's what it is, regardless of whatever labels Taekwoon or Jaehwan or any of their friends would put on it, has never really been a secret. Taekwoon knows they know, and the knowledge doesn't bother him. What makes him uncomfortable is when the things they do when they're alone, in the studio or Jaehwan's apartment or locked behind Taekwoon's bedroom door, seep into their social life.

 

This confession, however bold and unexpected and true it may be, is a horribly timed mistake. Taekwoon refuses to let the first time he tells Jaehwan how he really feels be in front of an audience, and he wishes Jaehwan had waited until they were alone too. He wishes his first time hearing those words came as some kind of 'I love you’ package that included Jaehwan's fingers in his hair and his mouth on Jaehwan's neck, his collarbones, his chest.

 

Taekwoon doesn't remember growing tired, but at some point he falls asleep, still wearing his jeans and sitting upright in the recliner. When he wakes sunlight is streaming in through the living room windows, and he's covered with the blanket he and Wonshik keep on the back of the couch. The apartment is silent, Wonshik having already left, but Taekwoon knows the blanket is proof that Wonshik will forgive him for hurting their friend. The fact that Wonshik didn't wake him and send him to bed is proof that he's not been forgiven yet.

A loud banging wakes Jaehwan, and he stumbles to the door in yesterday's clothes, intent on telling off whoever thinks it's a good idea to disturb him at the unholy hour of - he checks the clock on the stove as he passes the kitchen - nearly noon. Oh well, he's still going to tell them off.

 

There's a second knock as he reaches the door. Jaehwan yells as he turns the lock, “Yah! It's too damn early to be banging like that! What the hell do you… Oh.” The door swings open and Jaehwan finds Wonshik standing on the other side, an amused grin playing at the corners of his lips and eyes. “Come on in,” he mumbles, shuffling to the couch and falling into the corner of it with his feet up.

 

“I came by to check on you,” Wonshik says as he closes the door behind him and follows Jaehwan to the living room. “I wanted to give you space, but I was worried when you never texted last night. Are you okay?” Concern is etched in the lines on Wonshik’s forehead, and it makes Jaehwan want to scream because why is Wonshik here and not Taekwoon? Why hasn't Taekwoon called?

 

He knows why. Taekwoon doesn't love him. Jaehwan wills his heart to let go and his mind to forget, but he knows that won't happen anytime soon either.

 

“Care to share with the class?” Wonshik asks. “I can hear the gears turning in your head all the way over here, and I see you slept in your clothes last night, very unlike you… or Taekwoon for that matter.”

 

“He slept in his clothes?” Jaehwan mutters. He's speaking to himself aloud more than actually questioning Wonshik.

 

“And so did you,” Wonshik repeats, confirming without really answering. “So, what's going on in that pretty head of yours, hyung?”

 

Suddenly, like a dam bursting in his mind, all of Jaehwan's thoughts and insecurities come flooding out.

 

“You knew,” he begins. “I know you knew, all of you, and you know I don't care. If it were up to me it would never have been a secret.”

 

“Yes, we all know how you like to run your mouth,” Wonshik teases, and Jaehwan rolls his eyes but continues.

 

“I just, when I go for something I go all in. I knew he might not return my feelings, but it was worth the risk to try, just in case he did. Now I'm regretting all of it.

 

“He seemed to care, ya know? When we would kiss or… whatever, there was something there. I know I felt it. The way he touched me was so… ugh! I was so sure I was right, so sure he felt the same, but you heard him. ‘Gross.’”

 

Jaehwan's face twists in disgust, but whether he's disgusted with himself or Taekwoon is unclear.

 

“That was unfair of him,” Wonshik agrees, “but I don't think he meant it. He was just embarrassed.”

 

“That's exactly my point! He's embarrassed of my feelings for him. I didn't even mean to say it,” he mutters. “I should have played it off like a joke, but I was curious. I wanted to know if he'd say it back. Biggest mistake of my life.”

 

“No it wasn't,” Wonshik assures him, leaning forward to pat Jaehwan's knee. “Your biggest mistake was leaving without talking it out with Taekwoon. I thought you'd come back. I was gonna take everyone else out for dinner and leave you two alone, but you-”

 

“Would you have stayed?” Jaehwan explodes, and if he was sad before, now he's angry. “Would you have waited around to hear more if your heart was already being ripped out of your chest?”

 

“Well, if you're asking what I would have done,” Wonshik points to himself dramatically, “I wouldn't have confessed, to Taekwoon of all people, in front of our four best friends, but what's done is done. Your second best option would have been asking everyone else to leave so you guys could talk about it.”

 

“I ed up, didn't I?” Jaehwan stares at his feet resting on Wonshik’s thigh, and Wonshik lets out a long, exaggerated sigh.

 

“Yeah, you did, but look, Taekwoon is home alone right now. I’d be happy to make Hakyeon take me out for drinks if you wanted to go over and talk to him.”

 

With his own heavy sigh, Jaehwan nods and drags himself to his bedroom to clean himself up.

Taekwoon is the very definition of a homebody. He wouldn't leave his apartment at all if his work didn't require it, which is why Jaehwan is positive he's being avoided when no one is home to answer the door when he arrives. He paces in front of the door, wondering whether to take it as a sign or wait for Taekwoon to return. The only other option would be to go looking for him.

 

There are really only a handful of places Taekwoon would go… the cafe across the street whose coffee he really likes, Hakyeon or Jaehwan's apartments (though he highly doubts Taekwoon would show up at his apartment this particular day), and the noodle place by the studio where they like to go for lunch sometimes. No, he decides, it's probably best if he waits here.

 

He settles on the floor beside the door and hopes Taekwoon comes home soon.

The studio is unusually quiet without Jaehwan. Taekwoon works in silence, sketching, shading, blending. All he hears is the scratch of his charcoal on the paper, and he misses Jaehwan mumbling to himself as he mixes colors on his palette. He misses Jaehwan humming along to the radio or whatever music is playing through his headphones. He misses the near constant interruptions when Jaehwan is feeling insecure and needs to be reminded that he's a brilliant painter.

 

He misses Jaehwan, and he knows it's his fault. The only way to get things back to normal is to talk to him, but now he's scared. He messed things up. He hurt Jaehwan's feelings. What if Jaehwan doesn't forgive him? What if he doesn't love him anymore?

 

That's ridiculous, of course. Surely his feelings wouldn't change overnight because of one mistake. Right?

 

Taekwoon spends hours at the studio, completes at least a dozen drawings, all of Jaehwan. Jaehwan's thumb brushing across his plump lips; his fingers, covered in paint, smearing it across is forehead and in his hair as he pushes it out of his eyes; his back, hunched over as he leans toward his easel to put finishing details on his own work. His smile that crinkles his eyes and makes them sparkle; his head thrown back in laughter, neck and collar bones and shoulders on display; his profile, highlighting his nose, lips, eyelashes.

 

Taekwoon doesn't need Jaehwan to model for him. Every line and curve of the man's body is seared in his memory, and he growls in frustration as he rips his last drawing, a close-up of Jaehwan's fingers wrapped around Taekwoon's wrist, to shreds.

 

Taekwoon is not a man of words. Jaehwan probably speaks a thousand words for every one of Taekwoon's, but he realizes he can speak without words. He can speak through his actions and through his art. He just has to make Jaehwan listen with his eyes.

 

The sun is setting when he leaves the studio, his drawings tucked under his arm inside his portfolio. He turns left instead of right when he crosses the street, walking the familiar path to Jaehwan's apartment. Taekwoon wonders if Jaehwan will answer the door, wonders if he'll even be home, and decides it doesn't matter because he'll wait. However long it takes, Jaehwan is worth it.

“Hyung?” Jaehwan feels Wonshik's hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Hyung, wake up.”

 

“Where am I?” Jaehwan asks as he tries to clear the fog of sleep from his mind.

 

“What are you doing sleeping in the hallway?” Wonshik offers a hand to pull Jaehwan up from the hard floor.

 

“He's not home, or at least I hope he's not home,” Jaehwan whines miserably. “If he is, he's avoiding me.”

 

“Have you been here all day?”

 

Jaehwan nods and checks his phone before remembering that the battery died sometime around sunset. “What time is it?”

 

“It’s after midnight, hyung. Come on, let me walk you home.” Wonshik pockets his keys and puts an arm around Jaehwan’s shoulder, guiding him toward the elevator.

 

“But what if he comes home and I’m not here?” Jaehwan protests weakly.

 

“Then I’ll bring him to you or make him wait until you can come back,” Wonshik promises. “You can’t sleep in the hallway. You need a bed… and pajamas.” Jaehwan grins.

 

Wonshik is always taking care of him like this. Wonshik is always taking care of all of them, really. He makes sure Taekwoon and Jaehwan remember to eat when they’re working late at the studio. He brings Sanghyuk a coat or umbrella when the weather suddenly changes in the middle of the day. He mediates arguments between Hakyeon and Hongbin. Where would any of them be without Wonshik? Hungry, cold, wet, and angry , Jaehwan supposes, and the thought makes his smile widen.

 

The cool night air caressing Jaehwan's face sharpens his mind, and the further they walk in silence, the more Jaehwan feels like his skin is growing too tight for his body. There's not enough noise, not enough movement in just walking quietly. He's itching to talk to someone, just not Wonshik.

 

He jumps when Wonshik speaks. ”I can hear you thinking again.”

 

“I have a lot on my mind right now. It's not like I can flip a switch and turn my brain off,” though now that he considers it, that would be pretty nice.

 

“Okay, but do you have to think so loudly?”

 

“Wonshik, it's me. I do everything loudly.”

 

Wonshik laughs because of course it's true. Jaehwan can't even sit through a movie without commenting on nearly every scene. In fact, he's been asked to leave at least one movie theater in the last few weeks.

 

Wonshik's laughter lightens the mood, Jaehwan relaxing and letting himself enjoy his friend's deep chuckle. It's a voice he probably could have fallen for if Taekwoon's wasn't so captivating. Maybe it's because Taekwoon speaks so little or maybe it's just because it's Taekwoon, but Jaehwan can't get enough of his lilting cadence.

 

Sometimes when they're in the studio and Jaehwan is singing along to the music playing through his headphones, he will remove one of the earbuds to listen to Taekwoon humming with him. It's always a slightly higher harmony, traveling a third above Jaehwan's melody. It’s breathtaking, and if Taekwoon hadn't devoted his life to his art he probably would have made a decent musician.

 

When they reach Jaehwan's building he places a hand on Wonshik's shoulder to keep him from entering. “Thanks for keeping me company, but I can take it from here,” he says with a small, reassuring smile.

 

“You promise you'll sleep in the bed, hyung?” Jaehwan nods. “And you'll change into pajamas?”

 

“Actually, I don't wear pajamas,” he replies, and before he can elaborate Wonshik covers his ears with his hands and loudly tells Jaehwan goodnight. Jaehwan nearly cackles at the reaction and pulls him in for a hug. “If Taekwoon comes home-”

 

“I’ll call you right away,” Wonshik promises, “and I won’t let him leave until you get a chance to talk to him.”

The lack of music in the elevator irritates Jaehwan, even on the short ride up to the fifth floor, dispelling his relatively good mood from the walk home. By the time the doors open he's feeling lonely and depressed again, and he stares at his feet as he scuffs his shoes against the ground with every step. It's not until his toes bump against something solid that he notices a lump of clothing lying on the floor, blocking his way to the door.

 

The lump grunts and mumbles something unintelligible, and Jaehwan sighs as he recognizes Taekwoon's voice. He leans over and unlocks the door before dropping to his knees to wake him. “Taekwoon, come inside with me, please?” he asks, trying to be as gentle as possible to avoid Taekwoon's grumpy grizzly bear impression.

 

It takes a bit more coaxing to get Taekwoon on his feet, but as soon as the door closes behind them he's suddenly alert and looking extremely anxious. Jaehwan tries to wait him out. He deserves an apology, and Taekwoon wouldn't be here if he didn't have something important to say.

 

Jaehwan is reminded of yesterday's incident as the seconds tick by in heavy silence until he can no longer contain himself and asks, “Is there a reason you were sleeping outside my door? Do you have something to say?”

 

Taekwoon flinches at Jaehwan's tone and hold his portfolio out like an offering to a god, palms up, eyes down, head bowed. Jaehwan rolls his eyes.

 

“I've seen your drawings, Taekwoon. We share studio space, remember?”

 

He watches Taekwoon's face twist slightly and just barely hears him stutter out, “N-new… d-drew them tod-day.” With an excessively loud sigh Jaehwan takes the portfolio to the kitchen table and opens it, dragging sheet after sheet of newsprint paper out of it and spreading them across the table.

 

They’re good. They’re always good. Taekwoon is a genius. Jaehwan is amazed on a daily basis by Taekwoon’s ability to make a black and white sketch of a hand look like it’s alive and in motion.

 

It’s hard to tell the subject from the first few drawings he examines. Most of them are charcoal, but a few have color, bright smudges of pastels across fingers, above an eyebrow, coating strands of hair like colored gel. One of the sketches is a painter bent over his canvas, his body all long, lean lines with gentle curves and sharp angles in just the right places.

 

None of the drawings show an entire face, but it’s clear they’re all of the same subject. Jaehwan realizes a pattern and begins to arrange them until he’s pieced together an incomplete and slightly overlapping drawing of himself.

 

“Taekwoon, these are…” he trails off. Stunning would be an understatement, as would amazing, incredible, outstanding . Jaehwan thinks there probably isn’t a word in the entire dictionary that accurately describes how beautiful Taekwoon’s work is. “Are they… are they all of me?”

 

Taekwoon nods. “Except this one,” he adds, sliding one last drawing onto the table. This one is a kiss, and Jaehwan can only see the back of one head, hair and an ear, a sharp jaw and long neck tilted away. The other figure’s eyes are closed, dark eyebrows drawn together in passion and eyelashes so long they brush against his cheeks. Messy fringe falls across his forehead while fingers stained with charcoal delicately cradle the back of the first man's head.

 

“You,” Jaehwan whispers, staring at the table, unable to look away from the drawing.

 

“Me,” Taekwoon confirms.

 

“Me?”

 

It takes a moment for Taekwoon to respond this time, and when Jaehwan finally manages to lift his gaze he's met with a face that shows more emotion than he ever expected from Taekwoon. “It's always you, only you,” he says, and though the words are not exactly the ones Jaehwan wants to hear, he can tell they're true; it's close enough to I love you for him.

 

Jaehwan would like to climb over the table and drag Taekwoon into a kiss like the one he drew, but that would destroy all of Taekwoon's beautiful work. Instead, he rounds the table and leaps at Taekwoon, crashing into him, wrapping arms and legs around the man and sending him stumbling backward into the living room. He attacks Taekwoon's lips, smashing them together, and nibbling at his lower lip before moving along his jaw to his ear.

 

“I love you,” he murmurs, words muffled against Taekwoon's skin. “I'm sorry I didn't say it the right way before.”

 

“Jaehwan, I-” Taekwoon is interrupted by a loud vibration and a yelp from Jaehwan whose leg is resting against Taekwoon's phone. He hops down so Taekwoon can answer. “It's Wonshik. Why is he looking for me?”

 

“He might have found me sleeping outside your apartment door.” Jaehwan's face shows a sheepish grin, but Taekwoon is smiling so wide Jaehwan worries his face might break.

 

“I love you,” he says, softly, so softly Jaehwan thinks he might have misheard.

 

“I'm sorry, what?”

 

“I said I love you, Jaehwan.”

 

Jaehwan giggles and his nose crinkles cutely as he pulls Taekwoon against him for a hug. When his lips are close to Taekwoon's ear again, breath fanning across his neck, he whispers, "Gross.”