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Jun hadn't been able to sleep. He had tossed and turned in bed—hostage to his bad dreams, until five, when he had finally given up and walked out of his room.
He had hoped that with their newfound freedom in their own company, the nightmares would go away. They hadn't.
Every time he was out of province something gnawed at him, impeding sleep—now he was going to be a zombie for song camp.
He walked to the bathroom to wash his face, before heading downstairs, he would make himself some tea, and maybe try to pass out for a couple of hours on the couch.
The soft sound of an acoustic guitar deviated his route, and he found himself heading for the living room. He knew those strums, that pace. The way the chords would chase each other before stopping for a moment, then starting once more.
Dylan
Surely enough, he was there. Sitting on the little bench on the windowsill, guitar and notepad in his lap.
Jun remained hidden behind the door for a moment, observing his band mate, he was wearing gray sweatpants and a black tank top. His pink hair longer and loose on his shoulders.
The sun was slowly rising behind him, making his frame pop against its light.
The taut muscles of his arms where flexing, following the press of the frets on the guitar's neck and the strums on the strings. A soft satisfied smile playing on his lips when the chords slotted against each other, just the way he wanted to.
He was breathtakingly beautiful, he always was, but in that moment, Jun found him overwhelmingly so; calm, focused on the music, soft in a way Dylan never was. Especially when Jun was around.
Jun wished he could enter the living room and share that time with him, without Dylan clamming up, without ruining it for him. But they were both too snappy, too stubborn.
He wished he could reach into this part of Dylan, know what he liked, what other things other than composing made him smile like that.
Could he maybe, one day, be the reason for one of those precious smiles?
Wishful thinking.
He closed his eyes, sighing. When he opened them, Dylan was watching him.
Oh crap.
To his surprise, Dylan just bobbed his head to the side. "Did you have a nightmare?"
Jun nodded. "A whole night full of them, I just gave up."
Dylan looked at him in that way he rarely did, the way that made Jun feel naked.
"Come help me, then." Dylan said , scooting a little bit to make space for Jun on the windowsill.
Jun walked in the room, and sat down, he ignored the way Dylan's feet pressed against his thigh. Dylan gave him the notebook.
"Sing it with me? You can vocalize, I want to hear it with your voice."
"My voice?"
"Yeah dummy, It's your part." Dylan smiled, even softer, and this time it was only for Jun.