Work Text:
수많은 운명들 속에 만났던 you
you, whom i met among countless destinies
“No… That doesn't sound right,” Jay mumbles to himself.
He draws lines over the sentences to scratch them out. But then, he realizes that's too much work. So, he rips the page out of his notebook, crumbles it into a ball, and throws it aside on the surface of his desk.
…Next to all the other pages that he's already thrown out in the past hour.
Jay groans and throws all of his weight onto the back of his chair as he leans backwards. “Why the fuck is this so difficult?” He whispers in frustration.
Suddenly, there are several raps against his bedroom door. It causes him to jump in his seat, startled, because he knows what the rhythm of those knocks means.
Heeseung.
Panicked, he haphazardly slams his notebook shut, struggles to open a random drawer in his desk, shoves the book into it carelessly, closes it with unnecessary force, and turns to face the door with a nonchalant facial expression. “Come in!” He answers.
His voice shakes.
He feels parched.
He pretends his heart isn't trying to escape from its shackles.
The door opens. And Heeseung comes into view. It looks as if he recently showered. His hair is slightly damp. Face slightly flushed. Wearing those silly hamster-printed pyjamas Riki gifted him for his birthday last year.
He looks stupid.
All the same, Jay's heart skips a beat.
“Are you busy?” Heeseung asks. He speaks in a soft tone. The one Jay recognizes happens when he's nervous.
He's nervous… Why is he nervous?
Oh, shit. Now Jay's nervous.
Fuck.
A shake of his head, and Heeseung steps into the room. “Nope. I was just practicing the guitar.” He watches as Heeseung gently shuts the door behind him, all his movements slow and meticulously calculated-like. It makes his eyebrows furrow. Heeseung’s never been able to hide a single emotion on his face, but Jay doesn't say anything about Heeseung's behaviour. It’s not as if he is any better.
“Can we… Can we talk?”
Jay blinks as he sits upright in his chair. “Oh. Yeah, of course.” What the hell? Did something happen? Did Jay do something? Or did he not do something? “What's up?”
Heeseung strides over to Jongseong's bed and takes a seat on the edge of the mattress. He's holding his phone.
After looking closer, Jay can see Heeseung is slightly trembling. He wants to point it out, but he doesn't want to make Heeseung feel more anxious than he already seems to be.
“Uh… So…” He starts off awkwardly. He scratches the nape of his neck before he wakes up his phone and hands it out to Jay. “Do you remember this?”
Jay retrieves the device and begins deciphering what's on the screen. Immediately, he makes out that it's a WeVerse post. He reads the words, “How do you confess without saying 'I love you' or 'I like you?’”
The question sounds familiar, so he must have seen this post at some point. He continues to scroll down to see what else is on the page. And then, he finds his own comment at the top, which says, “I'd say 'you're really precious to me.’”
It confirms that he has seen the post before. He smiles, nodding his head. It’s been about a week since he posted that comment. He still agrees with what he said. Jay looks up to Heeseung and hands the phone back to him. “Yeah, I remember.” He’s confused as to why Heeseung would show him this, though. “Why?”
Heeseung accepts the device and throws it on the bed beside him. He gazes up to the ceiling, and the swallow he takes is visible. Then, he looks down at his lap and intertwines his fingers. “During our fan showcase for the DESIRE : UNLEASH album, there was a segment where we had to compliment each other… You were very generous with your words. And it seemed like you truly meant them. You weren't saying them just for the sake of it. I could tell because you wanted to hold my hand. And you—you held it so tightly. I didn't say anything, but I was shocked by it.”
All of a sudden, he pauses to pick up his phone again. He turns it on and looks at the screen. “I… I saw this post a couple of days ago. And it's been—it’s been eating my brain away. I thought of it every time I looked at you. I knew if I didn't ask you about it, that it would consume me like it was a monster.”
He looks over to Jay and stares quietly for a moment. Like Jay is a mystery puzzle, and he's trying to figure out where the pieces belong. “One of the things you said to me on stage was… ‘You're really precious to me.’ And at the time, I felt really great hearing such a thing from you.”
Finally, it all comes together. It startles Jay by how quickly he figures out where Heeseung is heading. His heart feels like it's about to rip from its blood vessels and catapult onto the floor between the two of them.
Vividly. He remembers both of these moments vividly. But it had not ever crossed his mind that these separate events would cross swords like this. How could he be such a fool? He wears his heart on his sleeve too honestly!
“But now I know there is a second meaning behind your words. And—and I just—I had to know. Because—I didn't want to assume that you meant the same thing in that context. That you—that you were confessing to me in front of everyone, and I didn't catch on. Because if you were…” Heeseung trails off, seeming to not know how to finish his sentence.
Jay swallows. Curls his hands into fists that sit on his thighs. His heartbeat thumps like a drum. And there’s a feeling of falling into the void deep within his stomach. But he is Jay. And he wouldn’t be the Jay he is today if he had never toed the line.
“What if I was?” Jay whispers, looking straight at Heeseung. He feels that his face, neck, and ears are warm. He's sure he's flushed to the core. Because he's embarrassed. And scared. Terrified. But his hyung is pouring the contents of his brain onto the floor in front of him. He can’t be a coward in return.
Heeseung's eyes widen because of Jay's question. He sits straighter. “What? I mean—”
“What if I was?” Jay repeats, louder. Confident. “If I did confess at that time…what would you do about it? How would you feel now?”
“Jay,” Heeseung breathes out in an exasperated tone. “I don't want to play any games.” His expression is clearly hopeful. Desperate, even.
Jay thinks that Heeseung’s reply answers his question enough. And it's what enacts his next actions to be so bold.
He stands up so abruptly that his chair almost topples over with the force of it. Then, he walks up the few steps to Heeseung and climbs atop the mattress to sit centred upon Heeseung's lap. He watches as Heeseung's expression morphs into one of surprise, and his phone drops to the floor for his hands to steady Jay by the waist.
“I didn't confess to you that day,” Jay admits through a quiet voice as Heeseung stares up at him like Jay is the Goddess of his entire world. “...But I mean it now.”
Those five words seem to be all Heeseung needs.
One hand grabs Jay from the nape of his neck and aggressively pulls him down until their lips meet in a ferocious clash.
Everyone knows how much of a romanticist Jay is. But Jay thinks they miss out on how romantic Heeseung can be, too. And this moment is a perfect example.
For how many people Heeseung has claimed to kiss, Jay doesn't think Heeseung should be this great of a kisser. Not that Jay has kissed many people himself or has as much experience as Heeseung. But he still feels beside himself. Flustered by the way Heeseung holds him so intensely and kisses him like the end of the world is near.
Jay tastes devotion and loyalty. Lifelong yearning. Ache, hunger, desire, eagerness, and cravings. Heeseung offers up all of his emotions on a diamond platter and feeds them to Jay as if it's the last thing he'll ever do. And Jay doesn't think he's ever felt such vicious, unconditional love in all of his years of living.
Just for a few seconds, he sharply pulls himself from Heeseung's kiss of damnation with a small gasp for air. “You're really precious to me,” he breathes out hastily and returns to Heeseung's lips not a moment later. The guttural moan Heeseung emits in response to his words makes it all worth it, he believes.
And if his next song is titled, “Precious to me?”
Well.
That's no one's business but his.