Kyuhyun taps his fingers over the keyboard as he stares blankly at the computer screen. According to the time displayed, he has a few more hours of work before he can start his usual weekday routine. His fingertips slide from the keyboard to the wooden desk to the drawer full of knick-knacks. He pulls out a new pack of pencils, carefully opening the box before letting each pencil slip from its confinement. His eyes move to the clock on the wall, scrutinizing the minute-hand until it shifts uncomfortably.

His head drops on the desk, disturbing the pencils and pushing one of them closer to his early-morning coffee. Looking around his tiny cubicle, he determines that maybe the strength of the coffee will be the jolt of energy he needs. His hands reach out; he breathes in. The aroma is strong, much stronger than he remembers. Once the last of the cold liquid touches the back of his throat, he rationalizes why he had left more than half of it in the cheap Styrofoam cup. He coughs after the last swallow; his face aligns with that of the company’s clock.

A tiny sigh slips through his lips, and his body slumps further into his chair.



"Kyuhyun, do you think I could borrow one of those pencils? I have a customer on hold that can’t seem to string together two thoughts."

He looks up and refocuses his eyes. He nods as the young man grabs one of the many pencils that currently clutter his desk. The boy smiles, a genuine smile that Kyuhyun cannot bring himself to imitate. He composes himself to the best of his ability, though, before offering his services.

"Do you need any help? I’m not busy." He curses mentally. Of course he’s not busy, not with all of the new hires. Model students with nice personalities. That saying about out with the old rings through his ears.

"No, I’ve got it. She is just a little…chatty, for lack of a better word. Thanks for the pencil."

He watches the guy walk away. He glances down at desk and decides to make use of the stupid pencil sharpener.



The grinding of the wood covers up the gentle, steady typing behind him. He pulls the pencil out and nods at the sharpened graphite. He lines the newly-pointed objects according to length. The shortest ones slide back into the box they came in. He grabs two of the longest ones and drums awkwardly on his knees. His eyes shift from the clock to the empty cup to the remaining pencils. A project forms as a small piece of boredom slithers down his shoulders.



The longest pencil finds itself jabbing through the bottom of the cup while four others jut out from various points, forming a square across the banded rim. He balances the contraption the best he can while silently he cheers his victory. Barely breathing, he reaches out to turn the object with his right index finger. The movements are slow like that of a carousel, but he persists ever so lightly. The telephone rings, causing his finger to jerk, resulting in the ultimate failure of his design. Yelling at the person on the other line comes to mind, but he brushes that off when he thinks of the possibility of something to do.

He picks the phone up, lifting it close to his ear before cradling it with his right shoulder. He inhales and tries out his best professional voice. "Thanks for choosing Abscissa, your first stop in technology. How may I help you?"

"So, I was wondering if you were doing anything for dinner. Maybe we could go to that little barbecue place on the corner or…"

"Yeah, sure. That’s fine," he says absently. His hands are busy reconstructing; his mind is too wrapped around the promise of food. The caller laughs, and the echoes bring Kyuhyun back to reality. "Wait, Mi, you can’t call me on this number. This line is for work, remember?"

Zhou Mi laughs again, bright and loud. "How could I forget?" Kyuhyun can almost see Zhou Mi’s eyes as he reminisces. "Has anyone been yelled at for not plugging in their computer today?"

This prompts a chuckle from Kyuhyun. "Surprisingly, no. It’s kind of been a slow day. I think I may be getting replaced." The last sentence sounds more like a whisper; he wonders if Zhou Mi could even hear it over the static of the phone.

"Why?"

"Well, the company’s been," he pauses, unsure of how to say exactly what he wants. His hands fumble with the pencils; his eyes find the time. After a few seconds of contemplation, he lets everything go. "Look, we’ll talk about this over dinner. I’ve got to go."

"Yeah, yeah. Text me when you get off work."

"Okay, I will."

"I love you."

"Love you, too. Bye." He lets the phone glide down his body into his waiting hand. Somehow, the phone finds its way back to where it belongs. He sighs and begins work on his creation again.



The phone rings again. He thinks about not answering, forgetting the phone exists. It’s nothing rational, but fear never is. It’s much too late for a caller in his department. Clients are out of their offices by now. That means it is a caller from his department. He grabs the phone with shaky hands and listens as the secretary confirms his thoughts. Her monotone voice masks the news, whether it is good or bad. He hangs up the phone, logs off and shuts down his computer, and prepares himself for the talk with his boss.

He steps into the office’s lobby. The secretary types diligently, looking up only when she hears his footsteps.

"Cho Kyuhyun, Mr. Kim will see you now," she says, her fingers still pelting the keys. He nods and stands. He opens the door, steps in, and closes the door behind him.

Mr. Kim stands as soon as the door closes. He bows, and Kyuhyun follows suit. The older man waves his hand in the direction of the leather chairs on Kyuhyun’s side of the desk. "Kyuhyun, please sit down. These things are always easier to take sitting down," he starts as he falls into his own chair, "At least, that’s what wife number two said. Given the results, maybe you shouldn’t sit down at all."

"Sir? You have something to tell me?" he asks, hoping to keep his boss on topic. He really isn’t in the mood for a story right now.

"Oh, yes. How long have you been working at Abscissa?"

"About five years now."

The man smiles brightly at him as he digs for something on his desk. "Good, good. You may have noticed the company’s growth over those five years."

"Yes, sir."

"You may also have noticed some new faces in the IT crew." At this, Kyuhyun simply nods.

"Cho, turn that line into a brachistochrone. I simply will not allow our newest system administrator to be sulking, especially not before his first day begins."

With his mind on brachistochrones and their likeness to smiles, Kyuhyun’s tongue is left drying out in his open mouth. When his mind does catch up, it takes a while for his words to come. He blurts the first question that comes to mind, "So I’m not getting fired?"

Mr. Kim guffaws. "Is that what you wanted?"

"No," he says frantically, "No, absolutely not. I just…never mind. Thank you, sir. I won’t let you down."

"See that you don’t. You, of course, can show yourself out now. You start your new assignments on Monday."

"Yes, sir. Thank you again."



"Are you going to tell me about what happened at work today?" Zhou Mi asks. For an answer, Kyuhyun pops another piece of chicken into his mouth.

The tinges of worry tighten in Zhou Mi’s chest. "Kyuhyun, please. I need to know. It’ll be okay if you did. I could probably find another part-time job, and I could cut back on shopping. One of us could learn to cook. We’ll be alright, just tell me what happened."

He watches as Kyuhyun his lips in an attempt to remove the sauce from his face. He grabs the napkin in front of him and leans over in his seat to wipe Kyuhyun’s face. As he wipes, he gradually brings Kyuhyun’s head closer to him, pressing his lips softly to his temple. He pulls back and looks into Kyuhyun’s eyes.

Kyuhyun blinks and asks, "You would give up shopping? For me?" When he nods, Kyuhyun smiles and moves his chair closer. Their fingers intertwine beneath the table. Kyuhyun bends toward him, hot breath warming his neck. "Lucky for you, I got a promotion."

He buries his face into Kyuhyun’s shoulder, masking his smile. Kyuhyun holds him and plants quick kisses in his hair. The tingles they cause are nothing compared to the words Kyuhyun whispers in his ear. "I think this calls for a celebration."



The moonlight spills into the room, casting shadows on pale skin. With one hand nestled in the dark waves of Kyuhyun’s hair, the other slides down his spine in hopes of bringing him closer. His mouth follows the curve of Kyuhyun’s arched neck, pressing kisses, warm and wet, while Kyuhyun digs into his shoulders. He breathes in the smell of shampoo and the subtle scent of sweat; his ears are full of Kyuhyun’s frustrated whimpers and low moans.

Their hips brush against each other, and the electric rush is too great to slow down. Kyuhyun’s hands, unsteady but determined, and his pants. Zhou Mi drops to his knees, running his tongue down Kyuhyun’s body as he goes to return the favor. He tugs down the dark slacks and pushes Kyuhyun back onto the bed. He quickly discards the socks, leaving only bare skin for his hungry eyes.

Zhou Mi’s hands shift from Kyuhyun’s ankles to his thighs as he feels the way the soft skin gives under his pressure. Hard and ready, waiting and hot to the touch. He inches closer to taste, to please. Hands tilt his chin upward, caress his jaw. Kyuhyun’s eyes, soft yet dark, shine in the dark. He raises up and leans on the edge of the bed; his lips ghost over Kyuhyun’s. His body is pulled down to cover, to complete. A little slicker than what is necessary, Zhou Mi moves within him. One tender kiss, one movement. He gets lost in the moment, blurring the motions with his name in the air.



Zhou Mi nuzzles into Kyuhyun’s bare chest, shielding his eyes from the light shining through the well-worn curtains. Kyuhyun absently the expanse of his back. The silence fills the air, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.



"Get up, get up, get up!" Zhou Mi sings over the humming of the alarm.

The sun peeks in through the gap in the curtains, warming Kyuhyun’s skin while Zhou Mi nudges him repeatedly. The mattress shifts from their movements; the frame of the bed taps against the walls, creaking every so often from the stress of it all. Kyuhyun rolls over on his stomach as he uses his pillow to muffle the sounds. Monday always comes too soon.

Zhou Mi pries his fingers under the pillow to ruffle Kyuhyun’s hair. The sensation sends shivers down his spine, his grip loosens. With an opportunity offered, Zhou Mi crawls so that his lips are breaths away from the shell of Kyuhyun’s left ear. "C’mon, it’s your first day at your new job," he whispers.

"Let’s just call in sick. We can stay in bed all day," he mutters into the mattress.

"I don’t think so. I’ve got to fill in for the morning show, so you have to get up."

"I have to get up because you’re going to work."

Zhou Mi seems to consider his words before he answers, "Not me, we are going to work. So, get up."

Kyuhyun moves through his daily routine, brushing his teeth while half-asleep and letting Zhou Mi dig through the closet to find him something to wear. His eyes are still a little groggy when he splashes the warm water on his face, but he manages to put on the clothes left out for him on the bed. He grabs his keys from the nightstand and pulls Zhou Mi’s face down for another kiss.

"I’ll be here when you get back from being all y and powerful," Zhou Mi says a little breathlessly.

He smiles and gives Zhou Mi another quick kiss before heading toward the door. "Okay, have fun being heard."

Before the door closes to start a new day at the office, he hears Zhou Mi‘s voice. "Don’t worry, I will."



The radio station never really appeals to the nose. It smells of cheap takeout and cigarettes, but it’s the sounds that continuously draw Zhou Mi back in the doors. Once in the door, he surreptitiously turns the fans to a lower setting to accommodate the chill of the October air. He makes quick work of removing the tired tracks on the log, replacing them with ballads and catchy love songs. The computer screen flashes the weather for the day; he scribbles down the highs and lows on the back of an old advertising outline. He embellishes the plain white paper with a few smiley faces to correspond with the heat, some frowning faces for the lack thereof. With papers in hand, he smiles as he presses the opening jingle.

His first remarks and welcome to the show sound a little too much like yelling to a friend from across the room. His fingers slide over the wave station’s volume as he silently hopes his listeners aren’t already deafened. The late-night DJ always tampers with the soundboard, claiming the rock hits of yesteryear are meant to be played loudly. Zhou Mi likens loud music to loss of hearing which leads to less music in the long-run, so he turns down the volume in his headphones while he clears his throat for the weather report.

The log usually represents his mood, things he thinks of when he sits alone in the small room. Every now and again, he sneaks in a few of Kyuhyun’s favorites in case he’s listening. He takes requests, smiling like the caller can see it. When he hangs up, he plugs the songs in. Songs that he likes play during his show, songs he doesn’t get pushed further back in the log. All of them get played, though, so the listeners stay attentive as they wait for their favorite song. During the breaks between a commercial and a song, sometimes even between songs, he likes to display his words of wisdom or his personal feelings. He talks about trivial things, like the perfect color for the season and what each song reminds him of.

Two hours go by quickly, like they always do. As he is signing off for the day, he sees the manager waving through the clear plastic window. He turns the volume on the soundboard all the way down, checks to make sure the log is on automatic, and takes his headphones off.

"Great job today, Zhou Mi. Look, I was wondering if you could take over the morning show for the rest of the week."

He looks back at the work station. "Yeah, I’d love to," he says enthusiastically. He can feel his lips stretch, his cheeks twinge from the tightened muscles.

The rush of his answer surprises the man before him, who casually looks over sheets of paper on the clipboard. "Good," he says with a light chuckle. "We may need you to work some in the afternoon next week, too. It’s just that some guy quit, and we’re trying to work out some sort of schedule."

"That’s fine. I’ll be here whenever you need me."

"Cool. If you do well this week, I may see about getting you your own show. Well, thanks and good luck."

He continues smiling long after the other man wanders to the back office. He pulls his cell phone from its place in his pocket and anxiously scrolls his contacts for Abscissa. The familiar sound of ringing plays in ears before he hears a young lady welcoming his call. The name he gives causes a delay, a redirection to an extension he will have to put in his phone later. He waits patiently for the voice on the other line.



"Thanks for calling," he starts. He clears his throat, maybe even lowers his voice just a little before starting over. "Cho Kyuhyun. How may I help you?"

"Kyu, guess what?"

He sighs. "Mi, I’m at work."

"I know, but this is important," Zhou Mi explains. As an afterthought, he adds, "Oh, how is work going, by the way?"

"Pretty good, except for when people keep calling me."

Zhou Mi’s laugh echoes in his ears. "You really should do something about that then."

"I plan on it. What is it that you wanted?"

"I wanted you to guess."

"Guess what?"

"Guess what happened at work today."

"You played some music," he deadpans.

‘I did, but besides that."

"I don’t know. Just tell me."

"I got offered to fill in for the rest of the week, and I may be working some in the afternoon. Isn’t that great?" Zhou Mi jumbles most of the words together. Each syllable is stressed, and the ‘great’ comes out mostly in a squeak.

"Yeah, it is. Congratulations." He cradles the phone between his ear and his shoulder as a coworker hands him a folder full of new problems. His fingers leisurely press the folder as flat as it can get; the ticking of a distant clock reminds him of his place. "Um…not to sound like an or anything, but I have to go. We’ll celebrate the occasion."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight."

"I’ll be waiting."

"Me, too." As he listens for the dial tone, he smiles. Tonight. He will definitely be waiting for that.



Kyuhyun downs the bottle of water as his workweek winds down. His eyes swim in the codes spread out on his messy desks. He configures the order, and the seemingly endless piles of paper falls neatly into one. He still has to fix the problem, but now, he can understand what the problem is. The bright lights of the city flicker off one by one, leaving him slouched in his office chair casting shadows on the boring codes. With an error found, he begins to type out the solution, a long strand of letters and numbers.

The clock in the church downtown chimes out eight times. The progress is slow; it’ll be hours before he’s ready to leave. His fingertips drift from the keyboard to his phone. They curve around the sleek lines as if the phone itself is far too fragile. He types out a message, only to erase it. He starts to type again, this time something shorter. The words light up on the bright background. They are impersonal but to the point. He presses send before he adds the final touch, the reason to forgive him yet again. The words stumble from his thoughts as he begins to type again. Somewhere between the phone and the stack of papers, an ‘I love you’ falls and shatters with any hope he had of getting home at a decent time.



It happens once, maybe twice a week, and he hates himself for it every time. He makes silent oaths that it will be the last time, that he’ll do better. Zhou Mi snuggles close to his side of the bed with a pillow tucked under his arm. Kyuhyun takes in the sight as he creeps slowly to the bathroom. He closes the door before turning on the light.

He changes into his pajamas quickly, brushing his teeth before he twists the knob. He flips the bathroom light switch and wanders aimlessly in the darkness. His shin makes contact with the bed first, sending tiny vibrations through the mattress. Zhou Mi turns slowly, his mouth opening and closing as if speaking.

There are no words as Kyuhyun slips carefully into bed. His fingertips swirl around the smooth skin of Zhou Mi’s forearm, the hair there tickles the palm of his hand. His lips move against Zhou Mi’s jaw before his sleepy eyes close for the night.

Those same eyes open before the sun has time to rise. He rubs his face, trying to wipe away the need for sleep. He untangles himself from the blanket and moves to the bathroom to get ready. The cold tile on his bare feet sends shivers down his spine, and he hurriedly changes his clothes for the new day. He looks in the mirror and pats down his unruly hair the best he can. Morning air is much too cold, and he sees Zhou Mi’s form twisting tighter in the covers. On the way out the door, he grabs his briefcase and turns the heat up.



The urgency of winter chills hits the calendar in late November. Zhou Mi, bundled warmly with a warm scarf, kisses Kyuhyun goodbye as they ready themselves for another week. He notices how tired the other’s eyes look, the way the skin underneath sags. The purple hues contrast with the pale flesh, the dark eyes. Kyuhyun smiles weakly, placing gentle kisses on his face. He closes the door, and his last image is of how Kyuhyun’s hair sways with each step, the slight hunch in those strong shoulders. The last thing he sees before he gets ready himself is a scene of goodbye.

The thought alone resonates as he picks his theme of his show. The songs are sorrowful, mourning, and full of melancholy. They sound too much like winter, much too close to his heart. The show has more callers than ever. Some request his usual set list of love escapades and lazy mornings; some talk of their own memories, digging out another lonely song for the log. He moves those to earlier times, hoping to let each heartbreak have a moment before the world resumes to a happier state.

When the last song plays, he closes on the highest note he possibly can. He wishes the listeners luck and love, hoping that alone will be enough. He lays down the headphones, resumes the usual upbeat pop songs, and turns off the lights. He locks the door with promises of a better tomorrow, a better right now. However, promises are only words. Words can bend, can be taken back, can be repeated. If he repeats them enough, then maybe they’ll be true.



Kyuhyun hears the conversations sometimes, when Zhou Mi’s day starts closer to his. He turns the water down and wipes his face with a once-bright, dampened cloth. Zhou Mi does his best to cover the distress, to hide the misplaced voice. He blames it on the telephone, claiming a friend called to check on him. Kyuhyun nods his head and stumbles back into the bathroom to brush his hair.

The door closes behind him, blocking out the sounds. There is a slightly muffled voice, a few words he’ll let Zhou Mi have for now. As Zhou Mi’s voice changes pitch, the tell-tale sign the call is ending, he smashes his ear against the thin walls. He awaits the next phrase. It doesn’t come.

He leans over the sink, carefully examining his reflection in the mirror. He sees a tired man. One that desperately needs something. He sighs as he walks back into the living room to grab his briefcase. Zhou Mi is lounging across the couch, knees bending over the arm. The magazine in his hands is of the utmost importance; Kyuhyun tries to argue the point in his head. Maybe this is what they have become. Maybe if he could just extend his hands, let his fingertips trace the curve of Zhou Mi’s jaw...

He grabs his briefcase, breaths away from Zhou Mi. He walks out the door without a sound, and he begs himself not to turn around.



Zhou Mi stares out the bus window on his way to work. He watches the leaves of brown dance in the harsh wind. The tree limbs shake violently, causing the birds to fly quickly. He follows their form as they head higher and higher into the cloud-filled sky. The buzzing of his phone gets his attention. He glances at it briefly before shoving back into the deep pockets of his coat. He isn’t in the mood for half-formed apologies or maybe-next-times. He needs something a little more than that. Something a bit more tangible, something he can hold at night.

A note is waiting for him when he gets there in the form of a yellow sticky note on the computer screen.

The boss man says he’d like to move your show to the afternoon slot. You’d get two extra hours. Think about it.

He leaves it there as he peruses the folders of music stored on the computer. He pulls out something he thinks sounds warmer than the bitterness of December. He digs for a second longer before plugging in a slew of Christmas songs. He listens to a current boy band remix of a classic while he looks for something to close with. His mouse points to one he hasn’t heard in a while. It’s something he used to sing, something Kyuhyun always loved to hear. He saves the log before scouring the weather forecast on the Internet.



Kyuhyun turns the volume up on his tiny radio. A lesser known holiday hit fades as Zhou Mi’s voice comes back on the air. He tells the time as the show comes to a close, and Kyuhyun thinks it may be entirely for his own benefit. The guilt keeps him listening; the voice keeps him interested. He restarts his computer as Zhou Mi talks over the opening bars of a song.

"Sometimes I want to just get away from it all. I don’t think there is a place far enough sometimes, but that’s what music is for. Here’s one for those days. Until next time…"

Zhou Mi is gone, and the volume of the song rises slightly. He hums along to the familiar tune, wondering why the song was chosen at all. Something about Zhou Mi’s send-off causes his chest to tighten. Maybe it’s just stress, nothing he hasn’t dealt with before. Then again…

He reaches for his phone, sliding a few papers off onto the floor in the process. A few oddly placed words are written in the search bar which prompt several pages full of results. He skims over each headline’s details before clicking one. He dials the phone number slowly, making sure every number is right and in the correct spot. The sound of ringing is replaced shortly by the sound of a cheerful man.



"You did what?!" he exclaims over the phone.

Kyuhyun’s low laugh rumbles through his eardrums. "Yeah, I thought it would be nice if we went somewhere together, just the two of us. And a ski resort is perfect this time of the year."

"What about work? I just got offered a permanent spot. I can’t just take off a week on such short notice," he says, grasping for anything to keep him where it’s safe.

"I’ve already worked everything out. Don’t worry about a thing. This’ll be fun, I promise."

Zhou Mi wraps his head around those words. He struggles for something to say, something nice. He is thankfully saved from saying too much at all when Kyuhyun’s voice booms almost as loud as his nervous heart.

"I’ve got some stuff to finish up here, but I expect you to be packed and ready to go tomorrow morning. I’ll see you later tonight. Bye."

The voice falls into a static mess; Zhou Mi ends the call. He sifts through the closet and finds the bags he needs for packing. Just as the day has flown by, he hopes the week will move equally as fast.



Kyuhyun listens tentatively at the front door before twisting the knob. There are no sounds, no rustling from packing, no screaming at the zippers. Nothing. He opens the door as if he’s intruding. He may be, for all he knows.

Zhou Mi is stretched out over a few bags, looking every bit as confused as Kyuhyun feels. Kyuhyun trades confusion for a barely-there smile. As he filters through the mess of clothes around the room, he notices Zhou Mi’s face light up due to the glow of his cell phone. The smile Kyuhyun wanted is given to someone else. As he continues packing, he busies himself with thoughts of snow and better times.



The plane is fast, too fast for his own peace of mind. Zhou Mi is staring out the window, eyes turned toward the ground below. Kyuhyun keeps his eyes on Zhou Mi as he tries to remember something, anything but where they were at take-off.

Children cry behind him, kicking his seat in demonstration of their dismay. Their mother apologizes over the seat, over the whines. He blocks it all out in favor of Zhou Mi, who is humming beside him. His long fingers itch a bit closer to the armrest, a bit closer to Zhou Mi. Something stops him; it has for a while.

His fingers brush against Zhou Mi’s accidentally, more as a reaction to turbulence than a need to hold on. Zhou Mi his head in an odd way, turning his face toward Kyuhyun. A look of uncertainty sweeps into those dark eyes before Zhou Mi changes his direction completely. Every twist of an angle feels like the weight of the world bearing down on Kyuhyun’s shoulders.

He lets his fingers touch Zhou Mi’s again, on purpose this time. Zhou Mi doesn’t turn around. Kyuhyun keeps them there for the rest of the flight. If he’s going to fall, he wants to know if it was because he didn’t hold on long enough.



His hands graze over the suitcase; his fingers fiddle with the shiny zipper that keeps it close. Zhou Mi should not be nervous about spending time with his boyfriend. Yet, here he is, clutching to his phone like a life line. Kyuhyun digs out an atrocious sweater from his bag, a sign of Zhou Mi’s absence. Zhou Mi reasons that Kyuhyun could have bought that ugly thing years ago, that he just missed it when he sorted out the closet space. He also reasons that lying isn’t something he can do to himself.

Zhou Mi reminds his fingers not to redial. Distant voices are not what he needs. His friends can only push him so far, listen so much. He needs to find a solution to the problem without them whispering their concerns in his ear.

Kyuhyun is so much better at problem-solving; it’s what he does. Zhou Mi doesn’t think that prevents him from being a part of the problem himself.



The slopes look exactly like they did in the brochure. Zhou Mi thinks of them the same way, too. To him, they are a playground of destruction.

"You like playing in the snow," Kyuhyun says with a smile.

Zhou Mi looks around, a look of despair in his eyes. "Playing, yes. This isn’t playing, though. This is falling down a mountain to my death."

"You’re not going to die. Trust me, this is going to be fun."

Kyuhyun’s eyes shine a little brighter out in sun; the white snow reflects off almost blinding him in the process. Those full lips stretch into a smirk, and the air turns way too heavy for Zhou Mi to breathe in.

"No, this won’t be fun. This is insanity," he explains. The words apply to more than the stupid slope. "I can’t believe I let you drag me here."

"I thought this is what you wanted. You said on air that you wanted to get away."

His mouth opens to counter, to spit out something far too honest for Kyuhyun’s ears. Instead, he holds onto his ski poles as if they are his last hope as they descend down the bunny slope.



Between falling and more falling, Zhou Mi gives in to the frustration. Every dip in the snow adds another question to his overwhelmed mind. Kyuhyun’s words ring in his ears, You wanted to get away.

It all swims through his head. The worries, the rain checks, the empty bed. The stupid smirks, the lack of interest, the morning alarm. The impersonal texts, the surprise vacation, the mountain of death. He shuts his eyes to block it all out, but finally after a few days, he caves.

"Are you okay?" Kyuhyun asks, kneeling beside him in the snow.

Zhou Mi shakes his head, and with Kyuhyun’s help, he manages to stay balanced long enough to make a point.

"Why did you bring me here?" The question slides off his tongue easily.

Kyuhyun shrugs and some of the snow falls from his hair. "You said you wanted…"

"You don’t know a damn thing about what I want. How could you?"

Kyuhyun stares at him, looking a bit pained but not surprised. Zhou Mi continues, "Look, I know that you were trying to do something nice, but it’s not helping this out any."

"This?" Kyuhyun asks. His voice shakes a little; Zhou Mi chooses to forget he heard the falter.

"Us. This…whatever this thing is between us. It used to work, but it doesn’t anymore." Zhou Mi composes himself, removes enough of his equipment to walk, and turns to walk away.

Kyuhyun grabs his wrist as if he’s begging him to stay. The words are nonexistent, and Kyuhyun’s hand loses its grip.



He stares at the television set, soaking in each bright frame. Kyuhyun’s hands slide along the fabric of the couch, rubbing a circle where Zhou Mi should be. As the show goes on, those same hands move up his body to circle a spot in his chest where Zhou Mi still is. He downs the last of his beer, chalking the whole thing up to separation anxiety. After his tongue can no longer taste the alcohol, he realizes it’s probably some type of heartache. He dozes off while he contemplates how to make his heart, mind, and mouth all work together for once.



Zhou Mi comes in much later than he thought. The lights are off, but the television is still on. He goes to turn it off, so he can slip into bed without the guilt of the light. As he gets nearer the glow, he sees Kyuhyun curled up in a too-short blanket on the couch.

He looks over the sleeping man for a moment before the television flashes again. The soft murmur from it causes him to turn around. It’s a marathon of their favorite show, a romance-infused drama based on some historical event Zhou Mi never learned.

As he watches, he lays down on the couch. He snuggles into Kyuhyun’s side, pressing his bony limbs into Kyuhyun’s soft body. His knees bend, and his toes nudge into Kyuhyun’s shins. The small blanket is rearranged, and Zhou Mi’s eyes stay open until an arm drags him from the edge.

The position of his body is awkward, and his body is already feeling a little stiff. Zhou Mi sleeps soundly despite all of this.



Kyuhyun wakes due to the shifting of Zhou Mi’s body. The glow of the television jolts his eyes into focus. According to the program, it’s about three in the morning. Kyuhyun presses his lips to the shell of Zhou Mi’s ear and starts a trail down to the base of his neck. He slips the discarded blanket up as far as he can without disturbing Zhou Mi, covering his chest and slender arms. Whatever they need to settle can wait until the sun comes up.

The sun rises, but neither of them move too far. The room feels lighter in this silence. Zhou Mi’s lips trace the line of Kyuhyun’s jaw while Kyuhyun’s fingers rediscover the feel of Zhou Mi’s .



December slides into January as Zhou Mi slides into bed. Kyuhyun moves to share the warmth of the middle, complaining slightly when he is pushed too far out. Zhou Mi rolls to turn out the light while carefully guarding his spot on the mattress.

"I love you, you know," Kyuhyun says once the glow of the fluorescent bulb is replaced with the more natural moonlight.

Zhou Mi weaves his fingers with Kyuhyun’s pale ones as he searches those dark eyes.

"I know," he whispers, "I know."

Kyuhyun buries his face in the curve of Zhou Mi’s left shoulder. His skin there warms due to Kyuhyun’s steady breathing; his heart warms there due to Kyuhyun. As he scatters kisses in Kyuhyun’s hair, he nudges Kyuhyun with his chin.

"Yeah, I know. You love me, too," Kyuhyun says. Zhou Mi smile is hidden from view, but Kyuhyun can probably tell.

Kyuhyun shifts so his body is flush against Zhou Mi’s, probably in an act of reclaiming the middle. "Remind me in the morning, though," Kyuhyun whispers.

Zhou Mi nods and says, "Don’t worry, I will."



Snow is sliding off the roof, hitting the windowsill on its way down. Zhou Mi digs out some older music from the files while humming the latest pop song. The bite of February’s chill is in the forecast, but this is the warmest he has ever felt. He sets the log to automatic and grabs two water bottles from the mini fridge.

He wanders to the back of the building with a smile on his face. The white flakes are dancing in the bitter winds. His phone vibrates from the table on the table in the back, so he takes a couple of longer strides to get there. The text is simple, yet his lips twitch upward.



He unlocks the back door two minutes later for Kyuhyun, whose wind-blown hair is speckled with tiny white spots.

"You’re late," Zhou Mi says, trying very hard to hide his smile.

Kyuhyun laughs, low and rich. "Well, how do I make it up to you?"

Zhou Mi is in Kyuhyun’s arms before he can formulate an answer. The kiss nearly takes his breath away. Kyuhyun lets him slide from his grasp, though he keeps their fingers tangled together.

Zhou Mi looks at him for several seconds, basking in the warmth of Kyuhyun and enjoying this time together. "I’ll let you know the details later. How is work?"

Kyuhyun’s head a little to the left as he shrugs his shoulders. "It’s work, you know. We’re working on a new account."

"Really? So are you going to be in late?" Zhou Mi asks. His voice sounds a little weak in his own ears.

Kyuhyun opens one of the water bottles, taking a long swig before answering. "I doubt it," he says nonchalantly.

"Why?"

"I’ve got better things to do. Now, how am I going to make it up to you?"

Zhou Mi feels the heat from those dark eyes, tinted with mischief. A few kisses are scattered along his cheeks and neck.

"Wait. You can’t just not work on a project. Did you quit?" Zhou Mi pauses, gauging Kyuhyun’s reaction. When he does nothing, Zhou Mi continues, "Look, if this is about me, we’ll work something out. Just go and get your job back."

Kyuhyun grabs a hold of Zhou Mi’s flailing arms. "Are you done?" he asks slowly.

Zhou Mi sighs and nods. Kyuhyun kisses his lips, slow and steady like he’s trying to memorize the feel and taste.

"I got a promotion...of sorts," Kyuhyun starts. "I’m working as a supervisor. I have the tedious task of making sure everyone is doing what they’re supposed to."

Zhou Mi stares in wonder at those words, a smile forming on his lips. Kyuhyun nods but continues, "I’ll still have to work late sometimes, but for the most part, I’ll be at the house."

"You’ll be home more?"

"Yeah. Sorry about that, but you’ll just have to get over seeing my face everyday."

Zhou Mi pulls Kyuhyun in for another hug, smothering him with kisses. The worst of winter isn’t over and they have a long way to go, but Zhou Mi feels the spring in Kyuhyun’s smile.

"Yeah, I think I’ll manage," he says before he leans in for another kiss.