junmyeon sets down his pen, slides another postcard into the envelope and seals it. He scrawls his home address in the middle, not bothering to include a return address. he’ll be gone in two days.

    he sighs and sets his glasses on the side table, rubbing the bridge of his nose where he knows there are marks from his glasses. he really needs a new pair. he sets the letter on the side table beside his glasses and turns off the lamp. the darkness is loud with unspoken words and the humming of the air conditioning unit. he pulls the covers up to his chin and tries to sleep.

~

    jongin tears open another envelope, sneering at the edited picture of the beach on the postcard. he knows the weather is terrible this weekend. junmyeon wrote that it was beautiful, but that’s just because it’s junmyeon and he wants jongin to think he’s having a good time. but it’s probably raining.

it’s the third one he’s received in two weeks. he tosses it on the counter beside the other two.

~

    junmyeon grips the armrests as the plane takes off. he’s always hated this part. he loves flying, but the take off is always a bit rough on his insides. the view afterward makes up for it though, he thinks, when they’re flying over the ocean and the water is sparkling in the bright sunlight of june.

    the flight attendant comes by and asks him if he would like anything to drink. he says “a water would be fine.”

~

    “i’ll have whiskey,” jongin looks the bartender in the eye until she closes around her question. they always ask if he’s sure and if he wants something a little less strong and why the hell would he ask for something he didn’t want?

    she makes him leave an hour later when he says “just one more” but can’t reach over the counter to get it. he scoffs and tells her he’s fine but leaves anyway.

    he can hear his shoes scuffing the ground. junmyeon will be upset and insist that he buy a new pair. but he doesn’t care. he keeps his head up so people don’t throw him looks, pitiful or judgemental. he sees a man in dark clothes leaning against a building smoking a cigarette. he has a whole pack in his front pocket.

    jongin walks over and asks if he can bum one off of him because he’s been itching for one all day.

    the man agrees and hands him a perfectly stiff cigarette, lighting it with practiced ease.

    jongin leans his back against the wall, his legs straight for fear of falling. he lets the smoke billow from his lips as he breathes through his nose. the man beside him puffs out smoke rings. jongin isn’t sober enough for that.

    after he’s had another cigarette and drunkenly promises the man he’ll buy him a pack next time he sees him, jongin leaves.

he picks up his feet a little.

~

    junmyeon grabs his carry on bag from below his seat and makes his way off the plane. he navigates his way through the small crowd of an airport at midnight. he grabs his bag from the carousel downstairs and heads to another escalator.

    there are drivers holding little white signs with last names written on them in various handwritings. none of them are for him. he wasn’t expecting it, though.

~

    jongin finally finds his car on the top level of the parking deck. it’s one of the last ones there. it’s one in the morning and almost everyone has gone home for the night.

    he sits with his legs crossed on the hood of the car, already riddled with scratch marks from previous nights and bad driving. he wishes he had another cigarette.

    it’s a clear night; the stars are bright and jongin feels like he could reach out and grab the moon because it’s so big. but he stares down at the scraped dark blue paint of his car and the scuffed soles of his shoes and remembers that he has a bottle of moonshine in the trunk of his car that he got a few days ago when junmyeon left.

~

    junmyeon waves down the first cab he sees and slides in the back seat as he gives his address. the driver’s eyes flash in the artificial light of the airport and they’re a bright green.

    the driver nods, smiles softly.

    the ride home is quiet. junmyeon leaves his window down and lets the brisk night air of summer and the smell of a sleepy city rush over him.

    the driver glances in the rearview mirror and has to remind himself to focus on the road.

blinks hard a few times, and bites his quivering lip.

junmyeon gets out of the cab and grabs his bags out of the trunk before leaning into the passenger’s side window to thank the driver. he tips him generously because he feels bad.

the driver smiles sadly and thanks him for the tip.

~

    jongin barely misses the row of mailboxes in front of the apartment building. he pulls into into the spot marked 53 and throws the car into park. he rubs his eyes and sighs. the glowing green time on the dashboard is blurry so he doesn’t bother to try and read it.

~

    junmyeon shoulders the door open with his suitcase banging loudly against the stairs behind him. the door to the apartment is stiff and the stairs have seen better days. but it’s home.

    he throws his bags on the floor of the bedroom and flips on the stove light in the kitchen. he stands in silence for a moment and thinks about how jongin isn’t home and it’s two in the morning.

    he fills a kettle with water and sets it on the stove to boil. he pokes through the cupboard until he finds his favorite tea: honey vanilla camomile.

    he finds the envelopes and postcards on the counter next to some spilled sugar. they’re torn open and the postcard from california is bent in the middle. junmyeon sighs and places the postcards back in the envelopes, neatly stacking them and setting them aside where jongin won’t spill coffee on them in the morning. he cleans up the sugar with a wet rag that smells like it’s been sitting in the sink for a day or two. he writes a mental note to throw it in the laundry tomorrow.

    the kettle starts screeching and junmyeon pours the hot water into his favorite mug. it has a chip on the rim and a crack down the side from when jongin accidentally dropped it while washing it last year. that’s what makes it junmyeon’s favorite.

    the tea is hot and the smell reminds him of last winter when the heat broke for three days and he and jongin had to spend seventy-two hours huddled under blankets with their fingers wrapped around piping hot mugs of tea and hot chocolate.

    junmyeon glances at the clock and it’s almost three. the clock is slow.

~

    jongin makes his way up the stairs slowly, careful not to drag his feet too much. he slumps against their apartment door, 37A, digging in his pockets for his keys.

    he fishes them out along with gum wrappers and a receipt from the gas station. he leaves the trash on the ground as he fumbles with the lock on the door.

    he tilts forward until the door opens under his weight and only gets as far as the door frame before he notices the light on in the kitchen.

    junmyeon is reading the postcards with his favorite mug in his right hand. he looks up from the one with the terribly fake picture of the beach.

    jongin stares back, then drops junmyeon’s gaze. he continues leaning on the door frame, not bothering to close the door.

    junmyeon smiles softly and sets his mug on the counter beside the postcards.

    jongin wipes his mouth with the sleeve of his shirt and sniffs. “i’m sorry.”

    junmyeon leans on the counter. “what for?”

    jongin just bites his lip and shakes his head.

    “i’m sorry i was gone for so long,” junmyeon says.

    jongin sniffs again and looks up. junmyeon’s eyes are soft even in the harsh light and he can’t stand it. “i’m sorry,” he repeats.

    “i’m yours and that’s it,” junmyeon says without moving from his spot. “whatever.”

    when jongin looks up, junmyeon’s smile is kind and lopsided and beautiful.