It’s still dark outside, some light from a streetlamp filtering through the blinds, painting several rows of dashed lines onto the skin of Sanghyuk's shoulder peeking from under the duvet as he lies on his left side, with his back at Taekwoon.

Taekwoon would lean in and kiss the sharp bone, maybe caress Sanghyuk's shoulder blade, because Sanghyuk is awake, too—his breathing isn’t even and his soft snores can’t be heard—but Taekwoon doesn’t do any of those. He’s still hurt, and besides, he doesn’t feel like he is the one who should apologise; he’s too proud and Sanghyuk doesn’t seem to be inclined to admit his mistakes. And until that happens, Taekwoon can’t say he’s genuinely sorry.

He gets up from the bed and pads out of the room, his eyes meeting Sanghyuk's as he closes the door behind himself, the noxious concoction of sadness and anger making him want to break something.

He drinks his morning coffee but has no appetite, his stomach growls at him, but he decides to ignore it, because even if he’s hungry, he knows he’d just feel sick after eating.

His reflection looks sad as he glances up at the mirror after washing his face; there are dark purple shadows under his eyes and his eye wrinkles seem to have become deeper, his skin tone is dull and greyish pale—it looks like his feelings have started to reflect on his face.

Certainly, almost a week spent without talking to your lover is not normal in a relationship.

He’s still considering calling into work as he stands on the metro, leaning against a handrail, resting his forehead on the metal and closing his eyes, fragments of images of Sanghyuk flashing through his mind and the only thing that manages to drag him out of his reverie is someone bumping against him. If he called into work at this point, he’d have to go back home and there he would have to pretend that he’s not even existing while tiptoeing around Sanghyuk.

He can’t concentrate on work and keeps zoning out, forgets to eat lunch and only realizes it when his manager pats his shoulder, asking him if everything is all right, if he wants to take a few days off next week. Taekwoon only smiles half-heartedly and excuses himself to the bathroom where he splashes water on his face, dabbing it off with a few paper towels. His necktie is suffocating him and he loosens it, ending up dry-heaving above the sink nevertheless, the anxiety from not getting even just a text from Sanghyuk for the sixth day in a row stirring up in his stomach, making it cramp.

His lunch forgotten and his limbs shaking wildly, he endures the day and even makes the time to shop for a few groceries—to postpone going home or simply because his hunger has grown big enough to force him to cook something, he’s not sure.

Sanghyuk is sitting on the couch with a bottle of beer in his hand, legs propped up on the coffee table, probably watching something on TV. He glances up at Taekwoon as he enters and Taekwoon's breath hitches in his throat; he wants to say something, to go to Sanghyuk and just bury his face into his neck, to do something that resembles what they had before all of it went wrong.

But Sanghyuk averts his eyes a moment later and Taekwoon drags his feet into the kitchen to place the groceries on the counter.

His hand is trembling as he holds the knife; he might cut his own fingers at this rate, but keeps chopping the vegetables nevertheless, trying to focus his eyes on the carrot on the cutting board, his vision getting fuzzy at the edges.

If only Sanghyuk knew he never meant what he said that night. If only he knew if Sanghyuk meant any of the things he said.

It was a petty little fight and it wouldn’t have broken out if Sanghyuk could control his alcohol intake, if he knew his limits—if he cared about those limits at all. But Sanghyuk didn’t care about them that night either and drank until his brain-to-mouth filter stopped working and he spilled the beans about Wonshik having a crush on Jaehwan to none other but the subject of that crush, laughing at the way Wonshik's face fell when Jaehwan looked at him sadly. It ended with Wonshik leaving the bar in a hurry, with tears in his eyes, Hakyeon running after him in just a sweater, risking pneumonia for his friend while Taekwoon caught Sanghyuk's arm and pulled him into a corner.

“Do you have any idea what you just did?” Taekwoon asked and Sanghyuk blinked up at him, the smile melting off his face, a questioning look replacing it.

“What did I do?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Wonshik didn’t want him to know,” Taekwoon said, towering over Sanghyuk, but only because Sanghyuk couldn’t really stand up straight anymore, his back leant against the wall and his knees buckling.

“Oh, come on,” Sanghyuk laughed, pushing at Taekwoon's shoulder lightly, holding Taekwoon's hand afterwards. “It gets more and more obvious by the day. It’ll be better for Wonshik.”

“No, it won’t,” Taekwoon replied and made no effort to hold Sanghyuk's hand with the same strength. “You know Jaehwan doesn’t feel that way and you just ruined everything.”

“I did not,” Sanghyuk rolled his eyes. “Let’s just stop and get a drink.”

He wanted to step away from Taekwoon, but Taekwoon yanked him back by the hand, truly disgruntled by Sanghyuk's carelessness, feeling like he was looking at a complete stranger even though he had known Sanghyuk for years.

“You shouldn’t drink any more,” Taekwoon said quietly. “You’re not being yourself, Sanghyuk.”

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Sanghyuk quipped and let go of Taekwoon's hand only for his wrist to be caught by Taekwoon. Sanghyuk tried to shake Taekwoon's fingers off. “Let go.”

“Sanghyuk, please, let’s just go home now,” Taekwoon pleaded. “It’s pretty late and you should get some sleep before—”

“Stop playing my parent!” Sanghyuk yelled and finally dislodged Taekwoon's fingers from his wrist. “I’m not a ing child, Taekwoon, haven’t you—” he let out a frustrated laugh, running his hands over his face, “—haven’t you noticed over the two years we’ve been ing dating? Why the hell are you still treating me like I’m your son?!”

“It’s because you won’t grow up,” Taekwoon mumbled, the hurt making tears well up in his eyes as he stared at the floor, but he didn’t let himself cry. He was not going to look weak in front of Sanghyuk. Not this time.

“What?” Sanghyuk barked.

“It’s because you apparently won’t ing grow up!” Taekwoon shouted, glancing up at Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk watched him, even as Taekwoon averted his eyes again, the floor patterns becoming blurred in front of him. He heard Sanghyuk snort and then the shuddery breath he took before he said, “I wish I’d known you needed a dog instead of a boyfriend before asking you out,” leaving Taekwoon alone in the dark corner until Hakyeon came back to find him there.

It has been six days and Sanghyuk still looks at him with what Taekwoon can only identify as hatred—if he looks at Taekwoon at all. He’s still there with Taekwoon and still falls asleep next to him, but he doesn’t talk to Taekwoon anymore, he never smiles at him with his nose scrunching up, and they don’t sit on the couch together, Taekwoon's fingers entangling with the hem of Sanghyuk's too huge T-shirts.

Taekwoon would tell Sanghyuk he doesn’t think of him as a kid if he could; if the words wouldn’t die out on his tongue when he sees just how scarred Sanghyuk feels and how he avoids even just looking at Taekwoon.

Sanghyuk is not a child anymore and Taekwoon knows it well enough—he wouldn’t have let himself fall for Sanghyuk if he wasn’t perfectly sure he could think of Sanghyuk as a man. It wasn’t only in his broad shoulders and his muscular thighs, it wasn’t only in his height as he leant over Taekwoon to kiss him after their second date, but it was in the way he stepped up to ask Taekwoon out and in the way he talked and in all the clever things he said—he is smarter than Taekwoon will ever be.

It’s also in the way he takes care of Taekwoon when he feels tired, skipping classes to cook for him and his hair until Taekwoon falls asleep in Sanghyuk's arms. It’s in the way he gets ready for his part-time work at a coffee shop every other day just so he can help paying their rent despite having to pull all-nighters to pass some of his exams.

It’s in the way he s Taekwoon slowly in the morning, already too high on adrenaline when all Taekwoon is capable of is into his pillow, falling apart in Sanghyuk's arms as Sanghyuk leans over to brush his hair out of his face and kiss his cheek, telling Taekwoon just how beautiful he is. And it’s in the way he pulls Taekwoon close afterwards, tucking his head under his chin and caressing Taekwoon's arm, letting him fall asleep again on his chest if he wants.

Maybe they should break up. Maybe Sanghyuk could find someone who appreciates him more.

“Jesus Christ, you’re burning it.”

The grumble comes from his side, and then Sanghyuk's hands are on his waist, ushering Taekwoon away from the stove, Sanghyuk taking the chopsticks from the pan to stir the rice and chicken, pulling them away from the flame. Taekwoon looks down at the knife in his hand and decides to place it back on the counter lest he drops it and rids one of them from a toe. Sanghyuk pours some soy sauce over the whole mess, stirring it with the chopsticks, and Taekwoon looks up at his face, trying to figure out what he should do.

Sanghyuk turns off the stove, standing above it unmoving for a few moments, and then he turns to look at Taekwoon.

“You cooked my favourite,” he mutters, his gaze dropping to the collar of Taekwoon's shirt.

“I thought you’d be happy if I did,” Taekwoon says, barely audible.

“Thanks.”

Taekwoon nods and steps to the sink, reaching out for the sponge, but then he feels two big arms around his torso, Sanghyuk wrapping his arms around his stomach and resting his forehead on Taekwoon's shoulder, and the sponge falls back into the sink.

“Can we just stop whatever’s been going on this past week?” Sanghyuk asks, and Taekwoon feels his chest constrict, the pain pounding behind his ribs. “I’ve been missing you so much.”

“Sanghyuk-ah…” Taekwoon croaks, but has no idea how the sentence is supposed to continue.

“I know I said some really stupid things,” Sanghyuk says, and lets go of Taekwoon, side-stepping him to stand face to face with him, his fingers fiddling with Taekwoon's, lacing together. “I apologised to Wonshik, and… I wanted to apologise to you, too the following morning, but you seemed so disgusted with me, I thought you needed some time to— to think. So, I just want to know if you still want to be with me, or… or.”

Taekwoon pulls his fingers out of Sanghyuk's hold, the flash of fear in Sanghyuk's eyes followed by a relieved sigh when Taekwoon hugs him tight, his heart rate going up so much he feels like Sanghyuk can hear the embarrassing throbs. But Sanghyuk only hugs him back, holds him by the small of his back, pressing his mouth to Taekwoon's neck before he pulls back enough to kiss him on the lips, slowly and softly, whispering about how sorry he is in between pecks until he’s kissing Taekwoon's smile.

His maturity is also in the way he always apologises first, making sure Taekwoon never forgets just how much they love each other.