He inhales deeply as he lingers by their bedroom door; Jongin soft steady breathing occasionally breaks the night’s stillness. He carefully closes the door behind himself after stepping further into the room.
Chanyeol sneaks over the Jongin's side of the bed and knees in front of the sleeping young man wadded up in their warm covers. He reaches down and caresses very gently over his cheek, to his jaw and his hand runs upwards to his hair.
"Hey," He starts hoarsely and nothing else comes out after, he continues to gently his hair and gives a low sigh. His heart tenses, like a fist closes around it for a spilt second; a sense of longing and pain and a sense of doubt – in the dim lit room he stares down at Jongin and he leans down to plant a kiss on his boyfriend's nose to his lips and finally his forehead, butterflies of nervousness take flight in his stomach.
What a cowardly thing to do – apologizing to a sleeping man. "I'm sorry, baby." He whispers again, half hoping for Jongin to wake up and hear him and the other half scared that Jongin can hear him.
He doesn't know what he's apologizing for – for being a ? Hardhearted? Not using a and getting Jongin pregnant? Possibly everything combined and more.
Apologizing to an oblivious Jongin feels right somehow because he won't have to explain why he's saying sorry – he has never been a fan of being questioned. The word sorry never comes easy to him.
He's never one to go out of his way to say sorry for anything. He wants to put blame on his parents but quickly brushes that excuse away. His actions and his thoughts are his alone – but putting the blame on others lessens a bit of his burdens.
His hand stops its movements when Jongin stirs – a quiet groan leaving his lips – and Chanyeol is scared Jongin might hear how loud his heart starts bumping behind his ribcage.
But all Jongin does is wrinkle his nose before he goes still again. Chanyeol observes how calm and relaxed his boyfriend's expression looks. Jesus, what an he is. Jongin doesn't deserve to get the backlash of his own foolish insecurities – he seriously needs to get his act together; to keep all of his anxieties at bay and handle things more like a matured adult.
He pushes his conversation with Luhan at the back of his mind – there’s no point getting angry now and wanting to chew the older man out when he isn’t there to get the bite.
Chanyeol stands up from his position and runs a hand over his face, thumb brushing over his lips – he’s so tired of everything and he wants to sleep through his problems. He soon turns his heel, stalking out of the room with heavy footsteps and decides to make home on the couch – despite his stomach protesting for him to feed it and his back aching for their comfortable bed.
Time passes quickly without him being aware of his surroundings as he sits there staring at the program running on the television– it's a reality show he normally sees lined up front in the gas station at the magazine section; lots of costumers usually flip through it to pass time and a few buy it before leaving.
Quiet footsteps snap him out of his blankness and he turns his head to look over at Jongin who is rubbing his eyes and fighting back a yawn by their bedroom door – he looks like he hasn’t slept at all. "Go back to sleep," Chanyeol says gently, as if the lowest sound can scare his boyfriend away.
Jongin stands there and looks over at him, he shakes his head and enters further into their small living room and crosses over to him. He sits on the couch tentatively, with some space between them. And , does it feels strange.
They don't talk– he feels the need to say something but his mouth fails to open. He shuts his eyes and lets out a soft sigh– staring at Jongin through the corner of his eyes and wishing that things between weren't painfully awkward.
"Can’t sleep?" He starts carefully, acting like he's walking on the edge of cracking eggshells. He hears Jongin make a sound at the back of his throat and he shifts uncomfortably when no response is received.
Jongin moves on the couch, edges closer to him and presses himself against his side, just right under his arm– it catches Chanyeol off guard for a moment and he feels Jongin tense against him when hesitantly throws his arms over his shoulder and draws him closer.
Jongin rests his head between his neck and shoulder, a sigh leaving his lips. Nothing is exchanged between them and Chanyeol thinks this is fine because he doesn’t really know what to say – not the first time – nothing comes to mind at all.
“Chanyeol,” Jongin breaks the heavy silence that always seems to fall around them. He’s playing with hem of his pajama shirt and legs are taking up the remaining space on the couch.
“Hm?” Words will clutter if they leave his lips so he settles for humming instead, tightening his hold on Jongin and bringing him closer. , how he has misses doing this whenever he feels the need to – without his own useless restrictions in the way.
“Two and a half weeks from now,” He stops and continues when Chanyeol nods for him to go on – Chanyeol is tense because he doesn’t know what will come next, “2nd June – I have an appointment and I want you to come with me.” He’s not asking and Chanyeol freezes, he hadn’t expected that and all he does is nod foolishly because panic doesn’t do anyone any good.
And Jongin is indirectly giving him a chance to try – he has to try because everyone else wants him to no matter what his outlook on everything is.
Jongin says nothing more and when Chanyeol feels his boyfriend’s lips against the corner of his mouth – his heart warms and he agrees.
Jongin doesn’t pester him about the appointment, he never brings it up again and Chanyeol forgets about it – it slips his mind easily because of work, work, work – he picked up working double shifts at least two times a week – and because it was exactly on his list of top priorities.
He doesn’t tell Jongin about Luhan and tries to keep the incident to himself like an embarrassing secret – it doesn’t matter to him, he would much rather not think about it because Luhan’s words do nothing but make him feel terrible and angry.
Chanyeol misses the appointment and he knows that when he comes back from a ty day at work to find himself locked out of their bedroom – Jongin softly tells him to go away.
He doesn’t argue and takes Jongin’s unforgiving shoo – he retreats from their bedroom door and heads for the kitchen.
The 23-year-old eyes the two brown files on the countertop. He knows what it is, he sees one every month. Jongin goes for monthly check-ups – the almost miscarriage has their doctor and some nurses keeping a closer eye on him, now that Chanyeol thinks about it – they do receive a number of letters from the hospital – sent to Jongin.
Most are bills and Chanyeol never bothers to open them.
Two weeks ago was the first and last time Jongin brought up the appointment invitation and now Chanyeol feels like an even bigger for forgetting.
He steps over to the countertop and looks down at top brown file – he hesitates but is soon opening the file out of sheer curiosity. He pulls out the first paper he gets his fingers on and gulps at the four black and white images.
He knows what he’s looking at but he doesn’t where the baby is – all he sees is black and white, they look like a bad paintings by an amateur. Jongin, Kim is written at each corner of the four images.
He’s not sure what he should feel because he really doesn’t know what to look at. He sets it back into the file and pulls out other documents – the rest are papers with Jongin’ name signed under them and that’s about it.
He picks up the other file and uninterestedly stares at the document – this is the one Jongin brought with him today. He takes a look at obvious ultrasound pictures and his throat squeezes at the sight of what is obviously a baby.
He sighs shakily, runs a trembling hand over his face and swallowing thickly.
Jongin only leaves the bedroom to get food in the kitchen and Chanyeol immediately follows after him – rational thoughts be damned, he thinks.
“I didn’t mean to forget,” He states, standing by the door and watches as Jongin walks around the kitchen – his belly is poking out of his shirt and at 17 weeks most of Jongin’s shirts are too tight around the middle area.
“I’m tired, Chanyeol,” He replies but he never turns to look at him as he grabs the blender from the cupboard and he slams it on the counter just near the microwave – he turns to the countertop and takes a hold of the fruit basket on it.
“, Jongin, I honestly didn’t me–” The fruit basket is set harshly back on the counter with such hard force and the bang that follows after is deafening – Jongin huffs out a sigh before staring at Chanyeol.
“Do you hate our baby?” The question is asked so softly and dull that he almost misses it and when it finally sinks it, Chanyeol can feel his heart drop into his stomach. He looks at how Jongin seems to find the floor most interesting than him and how he’s fidgeting on his feet.
“I – what?” He’s so baffled and he knows he probably looks like a ing idiot, standing there looking like a gulping fish out of water and knows he should come up with something better than what.
Does he hate their baby? No. Does he love it? No. Is he ever going to get there? He doesn’t know.
“If this is about the financial responsibilities – I will get a job after the baby is born and you won’t have to worry –”
“I’ll even work double or triple – I just need you to –”
“Don’t hate our baby, Chanyeol –“
“Jongin, shut up!” The shout seems to stalk his young boyfriend out of his distress because he looks up at him with wide startled eyes. “Please,” His tone is softer now and he can feel his voice about to crack – he feels overwhelmed because he knows Jongin his dislike of him being pregnant.
He sometimes doesn’t have to say things for Jongin to know – he just hopes Jongin understands. The last thing he wants is Jongin walking out on his – that’d kill him and he will not be able to take it.
Jongin’s eyes screw shut like he might cry, his face twists – he’s doing the thing before he can start to bawl; he’s biting his lower lip and his hands fly to his face – and Chanyeol can feel his chest ache at his boyfriend’s pain, as well as he own.
Chanyeol shuffles closer to Jongin – slowly – as if expecting to be told to back off, “Don’t cry.” His own voice is wavering and man, he wants to cry. He stands before Jongin and gently rests his large hand on Jongin’s shoulder.
He thinks that’s what Jongin needed because the younger bursts into tears – it’s as loud as ever and filled with so much hurt – Chanyeol’s throat bobbles as he holds Jongin to him. He tries his damn hardest to ignore the stomach pressing itself against his abdomen.
That’s his child in there– a miracle to most people; why does he feel like it’s nothing but a burden? He hopes his mindset changes before the baby is born. If he thinks about it hard enough – he doesn’t want his child to grow up thinking it’s hated by its own father.
He gently runs his hand over the small of his back and swallows. “We should talk – when you stop, uh – crying,” He says as kindly as he can and Jongin nods against his shoulder.
“Stupid hormones,” Jongin tells him after inhaling exaggeratedly – occasional sniffs follow soon afterwards, but the wet spot on Chanyeol’s shoulder tells him his boyfriend’s tears haven’t stopped. “I’m always crying.”
“Hormones,” Chanyeol repeats stupidly.
“I hate them,” Jongin mutters quietly after a pause.
“I know,” He replies absentmindedly – wrecking his brain for what they’re are going to talk about and he’s mentally trying to structure his thoughts even if he knows he’ll end up saying something ed up later on
“No, you don’t,” Jongin answers him hastily, slowly pulling away from him but never looking up to meet his eye – he seems to find the ground more interesting than him.
“You’re right – I don’t.”
They stand in the kitchen and silence – their unofficial soul mate – falls around them. He wishes he had the ability to peel away awkwardness – he doesn’t think being awkward around his boyfriend is a good thing. They have been together for 4 years – awkwardness and silence should be the least of their problems.
It’s his fault for not talking – thinking he can keep the thoughts to himself and still act normal. , acting has never been his strongest point and his insecurities always get the best of him – the shame of it all wraps him in a cold palm and never let’s go and he feels his nerves bounce all over the place; he tries to find his calm by taking in a deep breath without looking and sounding too panicked.
Jongin’s obvious small bump pressing against him makes everything all too real and he feels sick.
/cries/ jfc excuse my errors I just can’t be bothered to correct them atm or ever really >.>
Next update on Sunday (≧∇≦)o