But no, he’s not because two days later Jongwoon gives up again. He gives up on being strong and instead drags his blanket out into the living room and stares at their apartment doorway, waiting for Kyuhyun to walk in any moment now. He stays up and his tired eyes focus on the wooden door, anticipating for it to open, anticipating for the silence to break and for Kyuhyun to be here with him. Jongwoon stays up for days and nights on end, but none of it changes.

He wonders what Kyuhyun’s doing right now. If Kyuhyun’s okay. Who, who Kyuhyun’s currently staying with. Maybe with his family—they don’t live too far away from here, do they? Jongwoon hopes that they’re feeding him okay. He hopes that Kyuhyun has a cozy bed, a far cozier bed than the one in this apartment (even though that’s not likely.) He hopes that Kyuhyun thinks about him and hopes that Kyuhyun is being held against his own will, that he wants to come back.

Jongwoon is a little pathetic, isn’t he? He stares at the door and his eyes grow red.

**

For eight days his manager continues to not say anything even though it’s clear that he’s noticed that something is wrong, that something is off. Of course no one else knows about Jongwoon’s current living situation, or any living situation he’s ever had; so there’s no reason for Jongwoon to tell him, and there’s no reason for Jongwoon to tell him anything at all.

Finally his manager snaps on the ninth day and pulls Jongwoon aside from being outfitted for his photo shoot. “Jongwoon,” he says. “You know if there’s anything you want to tell me, anything, you can always just come and talk to me, right?”

“Right.” Jongwoon says the recited word, and thinks that if there’s anything he’s ever needed to tell anyone, he would tell Kyuhyun.

“Are you sure you’re focused? Completely and wholeheartedly fine?” his manager asks, looking concerned.

“Really, sunbae,” Jongwoon snaps, giving him a look. “I’m fine. How many times do I have to tell you?” He doesn’t meet his manager’s eyes with his own red ones, and instead walks away with weakness in each footstep.

**

Being alone is something Jongwoon had always been good at, or at least that’s what he likes to think. He has this stage alone, he has his career alone, and he has his apartment alone.

Or, at least, now he does.

On the stage, he grips the microphone tightly in his hand and sings the songs he had composed himself. The lyrics feel familiar on his lips and the music sounds familiar in his ears and all of it is familiar to him. Even though something is missing, something is not quite right; but it’s not really for Jongwoon to care or notice this. Because when he’s alone, nothing is right, nothing is quite perfect.

**

He doesn’t sleep because he can’t sleep and insomnia isn’t something he can control. Missing Kyuhyun is something he can’t control either, so Jongwoon just goes along with what his mind tells him instead of his body. He knows best. He always knows best.

So instead of sleeping and instead of not missing, he curls up and holds himself and stares at the door and waits. His days feel like ashes, blowing away slowly, and it’s all Jongwoon really needs in life.

**

Eventually the missing turns to anger and the anger turns to sadness. Days, weeks pass and Kyuhyun still isn’t back. It’s mid-October and Kyuhyun still isn’t back.

Jongwoon’s eyes not only grow red, but wet as well: perhaps he’s being a little stupid in it all. It’s probably all just a misconception, that Kyuhyun’s not really gone, that there’s just, there’s just something behind the scenes that Jongwoon doesn’t know yet. This must be it—but no because when Jongwoon wakes up every morning, his pillow is tear-stained and his room is impossibly cold and he decides that, the next time I see you Cho Kyuhyun I am going to strangle the living out of you.

(Only because he hates feeling this hopeless.)

**

It can’t be hopeless, though. Kyuhyun’s stuff is still in this apartment. Kyuhyun will come back. It can’t be this hopeless. It can’t. It can’t.(Jongwoon’s still a little shocked at how sudden it had started, and how short it’s been lasting—it certainly feels like ages and why, why is Kyuhyun gone now.)

He knows Kyuhyun. He knows Kyuhyun isn’t the type to just get up and leave, that Kyuhyun would at least tell him a reason or leave him a slip of paper or something. Kyuhyun isn’t quiet. Kyuhyun isn’t cold. Kyuhyun is talkative and wonderful and beautiful and perfect. He can’t have left. So Jongwoon waits.

**

After waiting eighteen hours more, Jongwoon blasts one of Kyuhyun’s compact discs throughout the apartment until the neighbors come over and yell at him, “Turn the stupid music off!” He yells back, “Shut the up you don’t even know who I am!” The neighbors call the landlord and the landlord asks Jongwoon to please, at least turn down your music; so Jongwoon turns off his stereo and misses Kyuhyun’s voice filling his ears.

**

After twenty-six hours more, Jongwoon considers getting up to eat before he remembers that he’s not hungry and there’s no use in eating if you’re not hungry. He holds onto himself and stares at the chair across from him, where Kyuhyun had sat, where Kyuhyun used to sit whenever they ate breakfast, lunch or dinner. It’s Kyuhyun’s seat. (Jongwoon is tempted to burn it.)

**

After thirty-four hours more, Jongwoon stares out the window and tries to figure out when it had started turning light out. It had been dark a moment ago. Or maybe he had fallen asleep. (But that can’t be true because it’s cold and he doesn’t fall asleep when he’s cold so he probably hadn’t fallen asleep. Going insane, most likely.)

**

After forty hours more, there’s a sound. Or, at least, Jongwoon swears he hears the doorbell ring and he jumps up from his seat on the couch and run towards the door, pillow in hand, eyes pink in happiness.

“Kyuhyun!” he says, opening up the door—but no one is there. The hallway is completely empty, and completely dark.

**

After waiting forty-two hours, the rest of Jongwoon’s body gives way and he sleeps. He dreams of photographs and childhood memories and wonders where the past has gone. Where everything has gone.

**

He gets a call from Siwon.

“H-Hello?”

“Ah.” Jongwoon presses his ear harder to the speaker and tries to remember why that voice sounds familiar. “Who is this?”

“This is—This is Choi Siwon.” A clearing of a throat, an awkward pause. “I was, um.”

“Siwon?” Jongwoon interrupts. “Siwon as in…”

“As in ex-Super Junior member.” A small shuffling. “I was, um. I was told to check up on you.”

“Check up on me?”

“Yeah, to see how you’re doing—”

“What?”

“—or-or if you’re okay, or something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know,” comes Siwon’s somewhat familiar, somewhat distinct voice. “I was just—I don’t know.”

“Who contacted you?”

“What?”

“Who contacted you to check up on me?”

“I—Uh—It’s not very—He feels bad for this—”

“Who?”

“I don’t know if I should—Please, hyung, you have to understand—Aren’t you even glad to hear from me?”

“Who?”

Dial tone.

**

Kyuhyun comes back two days later.

Jongwoon’s not very aware of it, really; actually, he’s pretty much given up by now. He’s given up on doing work because Kyuhyun’s left, gone for no reason and all he can do is wait because he knows, he knows Kyuhyun will come back because this apartment has all his stuff and it has Jongwoon and how can Kyuhyun not come back?

Kyuhyun enters the door and Jongwoon barely notices.

“Hyung,” Kyuhyun says at first, quietly, indistinct. Jongwoon doesn’t hear him because he’s busy sitting on the couch, hugging a pillow and staring into space, somewhere else, on the floor (or in its general direction.)

“Hyung,” Kyuhyun says again.

Jongwoon snaps his head up. His bloodshot eyes widen in surprise, perhaps a bit too wide for a relatively sane, or awake person.

“Kyuhyun?” he says. Then he shakes his head and ruffles his black hair a little bit. “No, you can’t be here, not yet—Not yet—”

“Hyung,” Kyuhyun repeats for a third time but Jongwoon is shaking his head, muttering things like, “He can’t be here, it’s too—he can’t be here yet—”

“I told Siwon to check up on you, hyung,” Kyuhyun says, looking down to Jongwoon on the couch.

Jongwoon snaps his head up. “That was you? You—You’re in touch with the others and you never told me?”

“I—Yes.” Kyuhyun casts his gaze down. “That was—Only a convenience of the thing, I felt bad for leaving and I wanted to see if you were okay—”

“You’re in touch with the other members and you never told me?”

Jongwoon gets up from the couch, dropping the cushion he had been holding earlier. He stands up and s a finger to Kyuhyun’s chest.

“You just felt bad for leaving me, here, alone? You—You left me Kyuhyun, without a note or warning or anything and why—why the hell did you even leave anyways!”

“I—”

“You can’t just abandon me without any reason and just—and just leave like that! I—I waited for you! I waited!” Jongwoon presses back sobs in his throat and punches Kyuhyun’s chest, hard. Kyuhyun doesn’t move. “I waited for you to come back because I knew—I knew you’d come back but y-you— you Cho Kyuhyun!”

He shoves Kyuhyun a little, making him stumble back; but Kyuhyun just stares at Jongwoon and doesn’t say anything. Jongwoon clenches his jaw and tightens his fist and bites on his lip, and he feels a single tear trace down his cheek as he pushes Kyuhyun’s shoulder again.

“Why did you leave?” Jongwoon demands, looking down, refusing to meet his gaze. “Why?” His fingers curl around the hem of Kyuhyun’s shirt as he stares at the ground beneath his feet.

“B-Because…” Kyuhyun’s voice is weighted, guilty. “I… I don’t… You’re changing, hyung.”

“I’m not changing! I’m not changing at all!” Jongwoon lets out a hollow laugh. “How am I changing, Kyuhyun? Tell me.”

“You… You’re… You’re becoming more needy,” says Kyuhyun. “You’re just… It’s not like how we used to be.”

“What do you mean?”

“Everything. All of this living together, all of this staying together—it had never meant anything before.” Kyuhyun gestures to the apartment around them before looking to Jongwoon again. “But then all of a sudden you’re-you’re becoming clingy and hugging me and holding me and kissing meand-and it’s just not right, you know?”

“What do you mean it’s just not right?” Jongwoon says defiantly, his gaze fixated on Kyuhyun’s face.

“You know what I’m talking about.” Kyuhyun’s expression remains stony, with a tiny bit of regret in his eyes.

“Oh what? Me touching you? Doing things to you? It’s not right?” Jongwoon laughs deliriously. “Well I don’t care if it’s not right,” he says, sobering up, “because it feels right to me and I like it and I’ll do whatever I want to do—”

“You think that I actually want it?” cuts in Kyuhyun. “You think that just because we’re friends and just because we’re living with each other, you’re allowed to go even further, do-do other stuff? Experiment with me?” He looks pained, and a little bit exasperated. “Look, hyung, I-I understand if—if you’re having an identity crisis or something. But that’s no excuse to impose it on me.”

“Identity crisis? What the hell,” says Jongwoon, meeting his defiant gaze, “are you talking about?”

“All this gay stuff!” The words rip through the air. “Jesus Christ, hyung, you haven’t acted like this since our band days! And back then, that was all for show and publicity and everything! Just because we’d been in a boy band doesn’t mean that I—I’m like you!”

“Like me?” Jongwoon narrows his eyes.

“You know. Your sudden affection for me… in ways more than one,” Kyuhyun adds pointedly. “What, did all the fanservice get to your head? I don’t—I don’t really mind that much if you—if you like guys that way, but I don’t.”

And this sort of makes Jongwoon feel hopeless, although he doesn’t say anything on the matter. Instead, he says, “How can you know that for sure?”

“‘For sure’? Jongwoon, I’ve known for ages.” For the first time, Kyuhyun sounds patient, a little bit tired. “You think I didn’t question it myself back in adolescent years, much less in Super Junior? Hyung, I don’t have any attraction, physical or emotional, to males at all. I don’t—I just know I don’t. I was comfortable with you and the others back when we did things for the fans, but that’s it. That’s all there’s ever been to it.”

“But you can’t just—”

“I may not have explored my uality,” says Kyuhyun, “but it’s not—it’s not right, okay? It’s not okay. I haven’t tried and I don’t want to try, because being… doing things with another man is just something I don’t—I don’t want to do. I can’t do. I’m not.”

“But see, this is it!” exclaims Jongwoon. “You don’t know because you’ve never tried! You’ve thought about it, but it’s not—it’s not the same, you can’t just say no and know for sure without having any experience—”

“I do know! I know! I know it’s true! I know that there’s nothing to it about me and guys!” Kyuhyun throws up his hands, looking a bit deranged.

Jongwoon bites his lip and feels hopeless. “Can you… At least try. Once. So you know for sure.” And when Kyuhyun’s calculating eyes rake over him, Jongwoon keeps still. “Just once?”

Kyuhyun stares for a moment, and then sighs. But he nods. He looks serious, gaze penetrating into Jongwoon; for a moment, Jongwoon forgets how to breathe. They lean in, sort of awkwardly walking towards each other, sort of trying to balance everything together. The space between them gets smaller and smaller, closing at an impossibly fast rate.

So their lips meet. And then their hands do. And then Jongwoon finds himself getting lost in Kyuhyun’s scent, in Kyuhyun’s taste as his fingers run through his hair, breathing in everything he’s always known, he’s ever known. Kyuhyun’s lips are working against his as well, gently as if this is natural for him, and he slowly adjusts and molds against Jongwoon. They’re all soft and brief touches, and that’s all their kiss really is—and then Jongwoon’s mouth opens and Kyuhyun is feeling every inch and wall and corner, tasting every last bit of him.

And all the while, they don’t cease to let go, not even once.

**

Jongwoon stumbles as Kyuhyun pushes him backwards, shoving his body against the bedroom door. It manages to open; Kyuhyun kisses him harder and Jongwoon lets out a soft moan in his mouth while his hands fasten around Kyuhyun’s neck.

Kyuhyun tosses Jongwoon’s body onto the bed, and as Jongwoon rolls over to adjust himself on the mattress, Kyuhyun reaches over and runs a hand through his thick, dark, matted hair. Jongwoon shivers at his cold touch, and at Kyuhyun’s nails slowly scraping along his skin. Kyuhyun leans down to kiss him again, and Jongwoon presses his body back against him, not hesitating at all.

Their tongues entangle and Kyuhyun slips a hand under Jongwoon’s shirt, sending a spark straight to Jongwoon’s crotch. Jongwoon groans again and presses their hips together, biting onto Kyuhyun’s lips. A sound emits from his mouth, a sound that he’s slightly embarrassed to hear himself make, not sounding at all like melodies or harmonies but a desperate, desperate chord. He can feel Kyuhyun smirk against him as their shirts come off, and soon enough, their pants as well.

(They don’t speak a word the whole time.)

**

Kyuhyun wakes up before him. Jongwoon opens his eyes to an impossibly cold bed, and he can feel his whole body aching as he rolls over. Any form of a previous absence is gone, and his initial thought is, , I screwed it up again.

He puts some clothes on and walks out of the room, stretching and yawning. When he comes into the kitchen, however, he sees a small card on the table, with some writing on it. Curious, he picks it up.

Jongwoon –

Left at the normal time today. Didn’t want to wake you up. I’ll be home as I usually do, so be sure to cook me some noodles!

– Kyuhyun

Jongwoon smiles.

**

Dinners aren’t awkward and neither are breakfasts, but it definitely feels like something is different. Nothing is perfect and nothing is completely, quite right—but—

But—

Jongwoon refuses to think.

“Hey. Hyung.” Kyuhyun snaps his fingers in front of Jongwoon’s face. “Are you okay there?”

“What?” Jongwoon shakes his head and looks to Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun is staring at him intently from across the restaurant table.

Jongwoon quickly shakes his head and then nods. “Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good.” Kyuhyun returns to eating his cake. “I want you to be fine. I wouldn’t want you to be upset or anything.”

“You better not.” Jongwoon throws Kyuhyun a look before turning to his own pastry, poking at it with a stick.

“Of course I don’t. Though,” Kyuhyun adds thoughtfully, tapping the piece of cake he had just torn off, “you are pretty amusing when you’re angry.”

“Hey!”

“Or annoyed.”

Jongwoon pouts. Kyuhyun smirks. Their hands meet under the table, unknown to everyone else.

**

Fingers touch fingers, skin touches skin; beyond them, the night sky is staring at them, watching them like a voyeur in the mist. Kyuhyun’s hands go down Jongwoon’s bare legs, feeling every muscle inside of them. Jongwoon groans and throws his head back against the headboard.

“ing…” Kyuhyun mutters, tearing the last piece of Jongwoon’s clothing off. “These blankets really shouldn’t be on the bed.”

Jongwoon can only nod slightly as Kyuhyun kicks the comforter off, and then moves a little bit closer to Jongwoon. The older man parts his legs as Kyuhyun slides between them, and then bites on his lips when Kyuhyun’s hands touch the hardness between his thighs.

“This is a new side to you,” Kyuhyun says with a grin, and Jongwoon merely moans in reply.

**

They speak of nothing, absolutely nothing; but the brief touches they share during the daytime explain it all.

Jongwoon still writes songs about invisible love—he writes songs about invisible love and the foundation of friendship with hints, hints of lusty tones underneath. Something feels missing, something definitely feels missing—but it’ll always be like this, won’t it? (Of course, and that’s why Jongwoon never thinks about it.) And so this is perfect enough to him. Or so he tells himself.

And Kyuhyun seems happy. Kyuhyun always seems happy. Kyuhyun’s a happy man, with a happy family and a happy friend. And a happy roommate. So, Kyuhyun is happy.

For the first time—

**

Jongwoon’s fingers crawl up Kyuhyun’s shirt, and he wonders why he hadn’t done this before. Why, why he had never even tried this before because everything, all of it is simply unbearable, unbearably thrilling, and how could he have lived before. He grips onto Kyuhyun’s waist as Kyuhyun’s mouth works more fiercely at his neck, and kissing and—it all feels like a rush, a rush that Jongwoon doesn’t want to stop from existing.

**

It’s mid-November and Jongwoon and Kyuhyun are starting to go shopping for winter clothes. Of course, it’s not like they had grown or anything or that it’s getting any colder in Seoul (it’s always a little bit more cold than anything else)—but they’ve both decided that they need more clothes to keep them warm.

Even when they’re cold, they still have each other.

Kyuhyun admires a large jacket on display, but Jongwoon frowns distastefully at it. “It looks too bulky,” he says.

“Yes, but—but it looks like it can protect you from the cold, doesn’t it?” says Kyuhyun. “I might get it. Do you see how much it costs?”

“Nope,” Jongwoon says, turning away.

“Hold on.” Kyuhyun grips onto Jongwoon’s arm and then leans down to check the price tag—but when he sees the number of zeroes, he immediately pulls back. “Oh wait, never mind.”

Laughing, Jongwoon pulls Kyuhyun by the hand and they walk along through the mall, hints of winter surrounding them.

**

Jongwoon can feel the vibrations run through Kyuhyun’s neck as he kisses him, harder. He can feel Kyuhyun chuckle, feel Kyuhyun groan, feel Kyuhyun make sounds of pleasure—it causes the lust tingling inside of him to burn brighter, to burn even more.

Kyuhyun’s nails dig into the side of his back as Jongwoon’s kisses become more fervent, going down even further, down to Kyuhyun’s collarbone, to Kyuhyun’s bare chest, to his s. His pale legs glisten in the moonlight as they press around Jongwoon’s sides, pushing him to go farther southward, pressing with all the force they can. Jongwoon bends his head down obediently and suddenly his head is in his mouth and he’s , just to hear that sound come out of Kyuhyun more, until Kyuhyun comes, comes all into him.

**

Baking isn’t Jongwoon’s specialty (he’s always liked just cooking—though just cooking in general really isn’t his thing) but Kyuhyun’s insisted that they bake Christmas cookies together. So they do and halfway through, Jongwoon feels like he wants to tear all his hair out.

“Pour one cup of butter—oh god that’s a lot of butter—into the mixture. Kyuhyun, how many tablespoons are in a cup?”

“I don’t know!” Kyuhyun says cheerfully as he stirs the questionable flour-and-baking soda mixture. “Don’t forget the eggs either, hyung! Oh, and the sprinkles!”

“Don’t we put on the sprinkles right before we put the cookies into the oven?” Jongwoon frowns and glances down at the paper he had printed out. “Or maybe that’s just—it doesn’t say specifically—”

“I don’t know!” Kyuhyun says again. “Come on, Jongwoon, join me!”

“Join you in what? You don’t even know what you’re doing!” Jongwoon exclaims, throwing the recipe down.

“That may be true, but at least I’m having fun,” Kyuhyun says cheekily.

Jongwoon rolls his eyes, but joins him nevertheless.

**

Lust can do crazy things to people, Jongwoon figures as Kyuhyun corners him in the bathroom and suddenly he’s pressed up against the wall, being kissed out of breath by Kyuhyun. Kyuhyun’s tongue lazily flickers over his lips, teasing him, wanting in; Jongwoon obliges and his mind is sent into a world of nothingness, a world of ecstasy. He lets Kyuhyun kiss him like this, he lets Kyuhyun dominate him like this—Kyuhyun’s hands suddenly become quicker, feeling around his stomach and snaking up his shirt and making Jongwoon shiver. Something bangs into the bathroom trash can, but neither of them notices.

“This—sort—of—seems—unsanitary—don’t you think?” Jongwoon manages to breathe between kisses. He sees Kyuhyun smirk down at him, and longs for those lips to be on his again.

“But since when have you care about what’s sanitary and what’s not?” he murmurs, pressing his mouth on his and tasting his tongue again. His fingers catch themselves in Jongwoon’s belt loops, grinding their hips close together. Jongwoon struggles and shivers.

“I don’t know,” he whispers back, and tangles his fingers in Kyuhyun’s hair as Kyuhyun tugs his jeans down.

**

The last thing Jongwoon wants is an argument, but it seems to be leading that way when Kyuhyun refuses to get his lazy off the computer to go get the mail.

“Oh, come on hyung, it’s not like anything’s really important in the mail, anyways! You can just get it tomorrow!”

“ ‘Get it tomorrow’? Kyuhyun, we always get our mail today—it’s like once we get it tomorrow, we’ll just keep on changing it up every day and—”

“So what’s wrong with that?”

“There’s no consistency! It just bothers me!”

“Well if it bothers you so much why don’t you just go get the mail now yourself?”

“Because I’m cooking dinner! You know that! My fingers are all covered with grease and oil and stuff—”

“Then wash it off.”

“I can’t, I’m sort of in the middle of doing things and you can’t just ask me to do it—aish—”

“Then do it when you’re done.”

“Kyuhyun, can’t you just get the mail now?”

“No.”

Except Kyuhyun sort of makes it hard for them to have a proper argument.

**

Has their bathroom ceiling always been this ugly? Jongwoon forces himself to look upward, because he knows that if he looks down, he’ll come right then and there.

Kyuhyun’s hands are gripping his thighs, and his tongue slicks to the front of his groin.

Jongwoon arches his back and looks at the ceiling harder, as if it’ll stop the burning sensation running up and down his body. He can feel Kyuhyun’s tongue sliding along his length, pressing the tip so his precome drips out, a little; Kyuhyun’s mouth turns more fierce, as if trying to draw a more excited reaction from him.

Jongwoon glances down to Kyuhyun’s bright pink face and excited hollow cheeks, and he’s coming before he knows it.

**

In the first week of December, precipitation falls from the sky.

“It’s snowing already?” Kyuhyun asks wide-eyed as he stares outside their apartment window. Beside him, Jongwoon is looking out as well, gaze drifting across the streets.

“I guess,” he says, “though I’m not really complaining. It’s a lot better than rain, at least. Although the slush will be painful to walk through.”

“Slush is always painful to walk through,” Kyuhyun grumbles, resting his head between his arms and watching the people run up and down the sidewalks. “But I don’t mind too much,” he adds, looking down at them and smiling a bit. “It looks like it’s going to be a white Christmas already.”

“Yeah,” Jongwoon says thoughtfully.

**

Kyuhyun’s head bows down and he goes in between Jongwoon’s thighs and then suddenly something is there, and Jongwoon doesn’t know if he should be pained or pleasured but he opens his mouth and makes a little sound. And apparently Kyuhyun takes this as a good thing because then his tongue is worming inside of Jongwoon and it’s different and it’s small and it’s difficult, but Jongwoon arches his back against Kyuhyun and he’s begging, he’s begging, “More, more.”

Kyuhyun gives him more. He’s always given more.

Jongwoon shudders and tries not to come at that exact moment, because it’s hard when Kyuhyun’s tongue is doing things it’s never done before and Jongwoon is pretty sure at one point he’s doing it all wrong because they’re so inexperienced; but when Kyuhyun’s eyes darken in lust and then they both come, Jongwoon doesn’t question anything. This feels too right.

**

His mother invites him to go over for Christmas, but Jongwoon declines politely; Kyuhyun’s father does the same and Kyuhyun merely tells his mother over the phone that he’ll be spending Christmas with a friend instead. Of course, he is—but he’s not going anywhere, he’s just staying with Jongwoon.

When they get that out of the way, they address the next dilemma.

“A tree,” Jongwoon says. “We need a tree.”

“And some lights,” Kyuhyun adds.

They stare around at their empty apartment blankly.

“I’ll get the tree,” Jongwoon says, fishing through the coat closet for his jacket.

“And I’ll find some decorations,” Kyuhyun adds, grabbing his own sweater as well.

**

The air between them is hot, even though the cold air is rattling against the windows. Jongwoon tries to make out Kyuhyun’s face in the dark, but all he can see is a dark head making a way down his chest.

“Kyuhyun…”

A tongue flicks forward, and then swirls; Jongwoon grips onto his arms like he’s holding on for his dear life. A hardness is scorching the side of his leg, and Jongwoon forgets how to think.

**

Halfway through the month, they notice some carolers in the mall, singing Korean Christmas songs. Jongwoon hums along with them as they walk, and Kyuhyun looks to him amusedly.

“We should start our own caroling group,” he says to him.

“We should,” Jongwoon agrees, a grin sneaking up on his face. “But who would be in it? You, me…”

“It can just be us! It can be a two-man group,” says Kyuhyun eagerly. “Two men who used to be idols and were in a band, but still.”

“Two men who are together,” Jongwoon mutters under his breath, but Kyuhyun doesn’t seem to have noticed.

“We would be the best carolers ever, don’t you think?” Kyuhyun’s saying while they walk along the tiled floors. “Everyone would be bowing down to our singing superiority.” He puffs his chest out, and Jongwoon hits him in the stomach.

“Don’t get too full of yourself,” Jongwoon says, laughing.

“I’m not.” Kyuhyun grins. “I’m bragging about the both of us.”

**

Biting, kissing, —the inside of Jongwoon’s mouth feels sore, but when Kyuhyun moves his lips to the side of his neck, Jongwoon finds that he can’t seem to get enough.

“Kyuhyun,” he rasps, and feels the tremor along Kyuhyun’s lips.

“Your lips look all bruised, Jongwoon,” Kyuhyun says, looking back and eyeing him. Jongwoon glares at him, but Kyuhyun just chuckles again. He makes his way to bury his head in the crook of his neck, tongue darting out to the sensitive skin.

“You taste like sweat,” Kyuhyun says absentmindedly. “Sweat and mint. Did you spill toothpaste on yourself again?”

Jongwoon scoffs slightly, but it quickly turns into a whimper when Kyuhyun’s mouth starts .

**

When the holiday comes (after they’ve gotten the tree, after they’ve gotten the decorations, after they’ve bought (and not baked) a pie and have put candles all around the apartment), they exchange Happy Christmases and gifts, and then sit with each other in the living room. Jongwoon sort of feels like this would be so much better if they had a fireplace—but no, this is good enough. This is perfect.

Jongwoon looks up from resting his head on Kyuhyun’s lap, and runs his fingers through his own hair. “I feel like this is the first Christmas we’ve actually spent together,” he says quietly.

Kyuhyun chuckles. “That’s because last year I was away, the year before that you had to run out on an errand, and a year before that we didn’t really talk much.”

“We didn’t.” Jongwoon mulls over the fact. “So… this actually is the first Christmas we’re spending together.”

“I suppose it is,” Kyuhyun says with a small smile.

Jongwoon plays with the pillow in his hands and stares out to the darkening window. The stars look like diamonds, and the sky looks like a blanket, covering up this entire city.

**

There’s a pair of hands underneath the waistband of his jeans; a second later, the jeans are at a pool by his ankles and Kyuhyun’s fingers are working their way behind him. A smirk presses against Jongwoon’s lips. “No underwear?” Kyuhyun breathes.

“I… forgot,” Jongwoon gasps, feeling the lubricated fingers pressing against the side of his hole. He squeezes his eyes shut and kisses back as fiercely as he can while Kyuhyun works against him.

“Pity,” Kyuhyun says in a non-pitying voice, and Jongwoon reminds himself to lock his legs in place before he nearly collapses against the wall.

**

By the time it’s New Year’s, Jongwoon has already gone through five boxes of turtle feed because Ddangkoma, Ddangkomaeng and Ddangkoming have been whining (or, rather, tapping their noses on the glass in a very annoying manner) all winter for more and more food. Once it’s January second, Kyuhyun can’t take it anymore and tugs Jongwoon out of his room where Jongwoon had been trying to dump the last of the turtle feed.

“We need to get your stupid turtles to be quiet,” he says to him.

Jongwoon sighs. “I know, but they’re eating their food like mad and there’s nothing I can do about it! See?” He points to the small empty boxes in his bedroom trashcan.

“Yes, Jongwoon, I do see,” Kyuhyun says, slightly irritated. “So we should try to actually do something about it, rather than giving your pets food that they’ll never be satisfied with.”

“But—” Jongwoon sighs. “What are we supposed to do then?”

“I have no idea.” Kyuhyun glances to the glass tank in the corner. “Honestly, I’m surprised they haven’t died yet. It’s been, what, eight years since you got them?”

“More, I think,” says Jongwoon. “And they’re turtles, of course they haven’t died yet! Why would you say anything like that?”

Kyuhyun shrugs. “Just saying.” He looks to the turtles again, who are now pawing at the glass (if possible). “You know… maybe we can just take them out of your room. And let them starve.”

“We’re not going to let them starve,” Jongwoon says sternly, going back inside, “though taking them out would be a good idea. So at least they don’t bother us.”

**

The underside of Kyuhyun’s mouth is dry, even though his tongue is probing near Jongwoon’s entrance. Jongwoon groans, stifling a cry—the neighbors wouldn’t appreciate hear him screaming.

Kyuhyun firmly grips his legs, and then draws back, saying, “You’re rather eager, aren’t you?” His tone is teasing, but a feeling of emptiness brushes against Jongwoon.

“Go,” he almost pleads, pushing at the backs of Kyuhyun’s elbows to force him forward. Kyuhyun obeys, and his tongue flicks along Jongwoon’s hole once again.

**

The least of Jongwoon’s worries, when he goes back to work, is that his style in singing, style in song writing, style in everything hasn’t changed at all even though he’s so sure it should. (Mostly because he should know what love is by now, or at least a little hint; after all, having Kyuhyun should at least give him a tiny idea.

But it’s the least of his worries so he never dwells on it for too long.)

The biggest part of his worries, however, is that his manager says that he wants him to go overseas, or at least to other parts of Asia for him to do work when Jongwoon really just wants to stay in South Korea, in Seoul, in his little apartment with Kyuhyun.

“But think about it, Jongwoon,” his manager says. “You’ll be more famous! You’ll spread your music to a larger population of people, you’ll get more fans, and more people will want to buy your album!”

“But I don’t—That’s not really what’s important to me!” Jongwoon protests. “I like staying here, I like being in Seoul, I don’t want to leave—”

“Don’t you think it’d be a good idea to explore the world, though? See new things all by yourself?”

“I don’t want to,” Jongwoon says stubbornly.

**

Hands shaking, eyes dawdling, Jongwoon looks down at Kyuhyun’s body, and his waiting pressing against the suddenly annoying fabric of his jeans.

“Hurry up,” Kyuhyun hisses.

Jongwoon’s hand slowly slides in, cold palm meeting against Kyuhyun’s warm thigh. His hand wanders around, amazed at the space between Kyuhyun’s legs, and his fingers touch everywhere around him except for his throbbing .

“Jongwoon,” Kyuhyun moans.

Dubiously, Jongwoon fastens his fingers around him; but when Kyuhyun’s breathing turns rapid, shallow, he harder and faster, confidence running through his veins.

**

They get their hair cut a few days later (together, like always) and then go out to a restaurant for lunch. It’s some place that apparently Kyuhyun really likes, some place that Jongwoon has never been to before, but he trusts Kyuhyun’s judgment. Well, sort of. Enough to at least put his stomach on the line.

“What I don’t understand,” Kyuhyun says as he sips some of his tea, “is Chinese.”

Jongwoon looks at him. “What?”

“Chinese, you know? The language.” Kyuhyun looks at Jongwoon pointedly. “It was mostly why when we—when we were in China, Zhou Mi always translated so much for me. Though sometimes I think he gave me the wrong translations.” He chuckles.

“And back here we thought you guys were just doing fanservice,” Jongwoon says amusedly, picking up a piece of radish with his chopsticks.

“Well we were.” Kyuhyun shrugs. “You know how it is. I don’t think it’s primarily why Super Junior M albums were so popular—but the fanservice definitely contributed.”

“I’m glad those days are over,” Jongwoon says, and hides a small smile when Kyuhyun says, “I’m glad they are too.”

**

The afterwards is the worst, though sometimes Jongwoon thinks they’re the best. The excitement is gone and the euphoria has faded, and they fall into nothing but a still silence, sometimes a deep sleep. He runs a hand over himself and sometimes wonders why Kyuhyun had said yes.

(Of course he had never actually said yes—but it had been implied, hadn’t it?)

He can feel Kyuhyun’s breathing, can feel Kyuhyun’s body pressed firmly against his. Jongwoon curls up in his arms and closes his eyes, waiting for sleep to come over him.

**

It’s nice to know that when you screw things over, you can always repair them, you can always repair the relationship, even if you can’t repair the problem.

It’s a thing Jongwoon often reflects on in life, and sometimes he tries to remember all the fights he’s had with Kyuhyun and wonders why they still manage to live together.

“People are completely different,” he says to Kyuhyun, “when you’re living with them, you know? It’s like a whole other side that the public doesn’t see.”

“Yeah, but.” Kyuhyun shoots Jongwoon a tiny, amused look. “We’ve technically been living with each other for more than a decade now.”

“I suppose.” Jongwoon shifts from side to side. “It’s just not to same. There’s so much more to tolerate… so much more to get used to.”

“Are you saying that you can’t tolerate or get used to me anymore?” Kyuhyun’s tone remains teasing.

Jongwoon manages to lift his lips up, a little. “You’re still with me, aren’t you?”

**

Jongwoon shivers as Kyuhyun’s hands slowly make their way up his shirt, rubbing against the fabric and feeling every inch of his body. Jongwoon feels like he should feel exposed, opened up—but he doesn’t. (Does that mean that there’s something wrong?)

Kyuhyun happens to notice the hesitancy in his movement, because he stops suddenly and looks Jongwoon in the eye. “Is there something wrong?” he asks, and the worry in his gaze is real, sincere. This is what Jongwoon tells himself as he finds himself nodding in response to Kyuhyun’s question.

“Yes. Sorry. Just a bit distracted,” he says, and then kisses Kyuhyun lazily. When they pull back, Kyuhyun still looks a bit unsure—but Jongwoon urges him to go on, and shudders at the feel of Kyuhyun’s cold hands.

**

“Happy birthday!”

Jongwoon runs into the room with a brightly wrapped birthday present. Kyuhyun laughs as he takes it, and doesn’t pay attention to Jongwoon until a cake is promptly shoved in his face.

“Hey!” Kyuhyun looks up and wipes the cream from his eyelashes. “Jongwoon!” He laughs, though, still attempting to get more of the cake off.

“Only revenge for what you did to me for my birthday,” Jongwoon says, smirking. Then as Kyuhyun starts to open up his gift, he suddenly says, “Hey, hey, wait, don’t rip that—”

The wrapping paper gives way; the envelope in the back rips. Kyuhyun flips it over to see a small card peeking through the tear.

“Whoops,” he says. And when he turns to see the crestfallen look on Jongwoon’s face, he just chuckles. “Oh, don’t be sad hyung. It’s something tape can always fix. Don’t worry about it.”

“But—” Jongwoon says helplessly, looking after him as Kyuhyun goes over to a tape roll on the shelf.

Kyuhyun just turns around and puts a piece of tape on the paper. Then he turns to Jongwoon and smiles. “See? Good as new.”

**

Lips graze against his ear; Jongwoon moans and wonders why such a sensation in the world like that exists. He can feel Kyuhyun chuckle, because Kyuhyun always chuckles—Jongwoon melts once again as he feels teeth on the side of his neck, nipping at his soft skin, and he moans again.

The feeling of all these touches and kisses along his body are different sensations than from when he comes—but they all seem sort of similar, as well. The lust raging in his head, this desire, this need for his satisfaction to be fulfilled, to feel Kyuhyun’s hot mouth, to have the heat inside of him—and his muscles clench as he squeezes his eyes shut and he nearly blacks out.

Kyuhyun is warm and thick inside of him, and Jongwoon knows no other feeling in the world.

**

Jongwoon doesn’t look up when he enters the apartment; he doesn’t have anything to look up at, anyways. But when he finally casts his gaze around and realizes he isn’t being greeted by a nod of the head, or the briefest of hellos, he catches sight of Kyuhyun sitting at the dining table, staring at something in his hand.

“Kyuhyun?” he says tentatively. Kyuhyun seems to be intent on whatever’s sitting in his palm.

Kyuhyun jerks his head up to look at Jongwoon. The smile that drifts across his face doesn’t meet his eyes.

“Hi, hyung,” he says in an oddly clipped tone. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

“I realized,” Jongwoon says, trying for some humor. But Kyuhyun doesn’t even crack another smile. Instead, he just gets up and leaves the table, his mind evidently elsewhere.

Jongwoon stares after him, before realizing that the other man had left something on the table. The thing he had been staring at. Curious, Jongwoon walks over and flips it over to the front, although the moment his fingers reach the paper he suddenly realizes what it is.

He sees his face on the front of his own photo album looking back at him.

**

It’s always in the dark, and Jongwoon doesn’t know if he likes it better this way or wants something else. But he never says anything, because they’re only alive at night, and the day feels like a grueling, waiting task.

The two pairs of underwear lying on the floor off the bed are laundry-fresh clean; but there’s no need for them, for the two men on the bed. Jongwoon can’t help but think what would people think of him if he told them, if he told his manager, his parents. He can’t help but wonder what Super Junior would think if they knew anything of this.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” Kyuhyun says absently before putting Jongwoon into his mouth. Jongwoon doesn’t think anymore.

**

“Hello?”

“Hi Kyuhyun,” Jongwoon says, playing with the pencil in his hand. “You still at work?”

“Where else would I be?” comes Kyuhyun’s amused voice.

“Well I was thinking.” Jongwoon ingrains the eraser end of his pencil into the table. “We should have lunch. Sometime. Today. And I want to see your workplace.”

“Do you?” Kyuhyun sounds surprised.

“Yeah… I do,” Jongwoon replies absentmindedly. “Would you mind?”

“Not at all,” Kyuhyun says cheerfully.

After being given the address of Kyuhyun’s workplace, Jongwoon quickly hangs up and tells his manager and everyone else in the studio that he’s going to go out for lunch. They all seem surprised; Jongwoon doesn’t regularly mention where he’s going, or when in particular, he just usually leaves. But Jongwoon doesn’t dwell on this thought for too long, as he grabs his bag and then leaves.

The late February air slowly dwindles down behind him as he makes his way along the streets. It isn’t long before he’s on the street where Kyuhyun’s supposed recording studio is, and he’s looking along at the numbers, trying to find the right building.

“Four ninety-six… four ninety-seven… four ninety—ah.”

Jongwoon stops in front of the building, not sure if he should go in. It looks oddly empty, like space is being cleared out—surely Kyuhyun’s recording studio isn’t here? But then he sees the shadow of the familiar man in an inner room, and decides that it is.

He takes a few cautious steps coming inside, and Kyuhyun looks up only when he’s a few feet away from him. “Hi Jongwoon,” he says brightly, breaking out into a smile. “You’d want to put the package over there,” he adds to a man in the corner.

“What’s going on?” asks Jongwoon, looking around. “Is it being refurbished?”

“Oh, don’t worry about it.” Kyuhyun waves his question aside and brings his hand down, brushing it against Jongwoon’s slightly. “You said we’re going to get something to eat? I feel like Thai today.”

**

Watching Kyuhyun blush certainly is a sight. Jongwoon hadn’t expected the words to fall from his lips—“You look amazing”—but then suddenly Kyuhyun is blushing ten shades of red and Jongwoon finds it difficult to look away.

It’s a bit different, you know, ing in the dark.

Jongwoon watches as Kyuhyun’s head goes down on his body, and his eyes rake over the skin peeking out from under his shirt. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” Kyuhyun tries to retort, fumbling with Jongwoon’s fly.

Jongwoon lets out a laugh that sends a shudder down his whole body, and it’s only when Kyuhyun’s full mouth is enclosed around his does he stop.

**

“We’re running out of food,” Jongwoon announces when he opens up the refrigerator and is met by empty shelves and empty drawers.

Kyuhyun, from the family room, is eating the last of the bread crumbs from a paper bag. He glances to Jongwoon. “Really? I hadn’t noticed.”

“Well then why don’t we go grocery shopping?” says Jongwoon.

“You can go grocery shopping.”

“No,” says Jongwoon, and he marches over to the living room and starts tugging Kyuhyun up and away from his computer. “You… are… getting… your… lazy … off the couch… and coming… with me…” He attempts to drag him away.

Kyuhyun looks down at Jongwoon, amused. “Is this your attempt to force me into getting what you want me to do?”

“Yes it is!” Jongwoon says defiantly, letting his arm fall down and looking Kyuhyun in the eye. “You’re not just going to sit there—”

“Okay, I’m coming.”

“—playing your video games every day, doing nothing to get outside aside from going to work, and—”

“Jongwoon, I said I’ll go.”

“—I’m always the one forced to get the mail—eh?”

“I said, I’m coming,” Kyuhyun says with a laugh, and then begins to tug Jongwoon away. “Really, it’s a surprise that you can get on without me.”

Jongwoon grumbles, but follows him out the apartment door.

(Eventually they get too lazy to walk all the way to the grocery store and pick out food, and end up eating at a restaurant along the way. Which is all right, Jongwoon thinks; he can get the groceries alone tomorrow.)

**

Jongwoon feels like he shouldn’t look when Kyuhyun pulls out his , but he looks anyways and his mouth waters at the sight. Kyuhyun adjusts himself on the bed and then aligns his length with Jongwoon’s; the brief touch of the sensitive skin has Jongwoon hissing in anticipation.

“Sorry,” murmurs Kyuhyun, leaning up to nibble on the shell of Jongwoon’s ear as their slick rub together. Jongwoon moans into Kyuhyun’s shoulder as Kyuhyun moves, grinding, rolling his hips on top of Jongwoon’s.

“What are you sorry for?” Jongwoon manages out, struggling to keep his voice steady. “You shouldn’t be sorry for—ah—this.”

“Probably not,” Kyuhyun chuckles, but his touch is light and a bit delicate and this knowledge sends Jongwoon coming all too soon.

**

Jongwoon’s head is hanging off to the side as he stares the paper in front of him. Beside him, Kyuhyun is still focused on his computer, although he’s typing frantically instead of staring blankly like he usually does.

“What are you doing?” Jongwoon asks tiredly, moving so that he can see a fraction of Kyuhyun’s computer screen.

“Writing,” Kyuhyun answers. “A song,” he adds as a response to Jongwoon’s questioning gaze.

“But.” Jongwoon shakes the fringe of hair out of his face and looks at Kyuhyun, clearer. “I thought you didn’t write your own songs.”

“I don’t,” Kyuhyun answers. “But I just felt the inspiration, you know?” His eyes gleam as he returns to his computer.

They sit in the silence for a little bit longer. Finally, Kyuhyun yawns and pushes his computer aside, bringing his arms above his head and stretching. Jongwoon can’t help but notice the biceps beneath his thin long shirt. Then Kyuhyun turns to Jongwoon and says, “Shall we go to bed then?”

All sense of fatigue suddenly leaves Jongwoon. He gets up, eyes wide and alert, and sticks his hand out to Kyuhyun. “Yeah,” he says, and then adds, “I’m tired,” even though they both know he’s not.

Kyuhyun chuckles and, taking his hand, leads them away into the bedroom, closing the door and shutting off the lights.