Silentium

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Taekwoon is silent when he plops himself down next to Jaehwan, the younger tearing his gaze away from the window to look at the other. None of them say anything, Taekwoon never the one to initiate conversation and Jaehwan unusually quiet today.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice as soft as ever, but still piercing through the silent room. Their eyes meet, yet Jaehwan still seems distant, so the older lifts his hand, bringing it to his forehead.

“I’m not sick,” Jaehwan says, leaning further back into the cushions as if he wants them to swallow him up, hide him from the other man.

They don't speak, the silence eerie as the seconds and minutes are stretched longer, and if he listens closely enough, Taekwoon can hear Wonshik snoring in the other room.

The younger sighs after a while, turning his head and tells him not to worry, discreetly hinting at the other to leave him alone. Taekwoon blinks, frowning as he takes one of Jaehwan’s hands into his own.

“You’ve been so quiet today,” he says, intertwining their fingers, “it’s weird.” There’s something in his voice that makes him seem much smaller and younger than Jaehwan. He smiles a little, can’t really help it and squeezes his hand, scooting closer and pressing himself against Taekwoon, the heat of his body making the hair on his arm rise.

He didn’t realise how cold he was.

He squirms a little in his seat as he tries to get comfortable, snuggling the older man, who gently puts a hand on his head and pushes it down to rest on his shoulder, before he lets his arm curl around his waist. The younger smiles a bit wider, his eyes closed, and hums, bringing his own arms around Taekwoon.

They stay together on the couch by themselves like that for a while, and Taekwoon thinks the other might have fallen asleep, his breaths deep and heavy. He has lost track of time, not even sure if he has been awake the whole time as he notices how the light in the room changes as heated streaks of red burn through the cold sky.

The sun is setting.

He pokes Jaehwan gently in the ribs after retreating his arm, his muscles sore from being pressed against the couch by the younger’s back for so long.

“Come. Let’s eat. I’ll cook for us.”

Jaehwan mumbles something into his shoulder that he can’t make out, so he nudges him again, but the other still doesn’t move. He sighs, because he’s getting hungry, but he stays put anyway. He’ll give Jaehwan one more minute, he thinks. The arms around him pull him closer then, so Taekwoon slides his arm around the other again as well.

One minute, ten minutes, he figures it doesn’t matter much.


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