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When Jungsoo figures out that he's in love, it's a morning no finer than the ones that came before it. His alarm goes off no earlier than it is meant to. Shimkoong’s pawsteps are no louder than they sounded yesterday. The trees are the same, the wind is as predicted, the quiet hum of life drones on as per usual. When he realizes he's in love it is as the lethargic summer heat creeping up on spring’s ends, thick and undeniable, as coffee going from scalding to comfortably warm with no effort, only time, ticking softly in the morning-lit kitchen where Jungsoo finally, gently, stumbles upon certainty.
How odd it is to find yourself across the other side of the river you did not realize you were crossing. How odd to realize that a life you thought you have spent walking alone was a stroll you were taking with someone else; someone who occasionally walks ahead of you but always, always stops and turns around, waits for you to catch up, chases you when it's your turn to forge ahead.
The coffee doesn't matter. Breakfast doesn't matter. He may have a schedule this afternoon but that doesn't matter either. He picks up his phone, dials.
“What?” Heechul’s voice is sleepy, that morning roughness and sedated drawl.
“Heechulie,” Jungsoo says.
It was as if Jungsoo could hear Heechul sit up over the line, voice transforming into alertness. “Jungsoo? Why are you calling this early, is something wrong?”
“Heechulie,” he says again. It's the easiest thing to say in the world.
“Where are you? Are you okay? I’ll come get you.” The sounds of movement cross over to Jungsoo’s side of the phone. Man of action, Kim Heechul.
“Heechul,” Jungsoo says, softly. “I love you.”
There is silence over the line. Jungsoo feels adrift, floating, as one does when out of breath. His eyes blur, his blood rushes past his ears, his heart… his heart… but his certainty grounds him, keeps both his feet on the floor.
“What’s wrong?” Heechul asks again, this time quieter, but more urgent, more worried. “Are you sick?”
“Everything’s okay,” Jungsoo says. And it is. It's all okay. He knows this in his soul, as sure as he has a heart or a soul. “I’m in love with you.”
The silence lasts longer this time. It goes on, and on, and on, and not a single second does Jungsoo’s certainty waiver.
“You're in love with me too, aren't you?” He asks. He knows the answer. He suspects he has known it for a long time now.
Heechul’s voice is soft over the line. “Where are you?” he asks again. “I’ll come to you.”
“No,” Jungsoo says. “You stay there. I’ll come to you.”
The phone beeps as the call ends and Jungsoo gets to action fast. The members may often accuse him of tardiness but he can be early, when it matters. Nothing has mattered quite as much as this, not in a long time. He's in the car in an instant and the city just passes by; the early morning rush doesn't even register. It's pleasant. It's all so pleasant. It all feels like the earth is rotating in tandem with him, all of the world moving so he can get to Heechul, had moved all this while, so he can get to Heechul. Has he always felt like this? He might have, but the realization colors all the feelings into something comprehensible, something he can speak and trust to understand. All in a morning’s time.
It's 7:45 when he gets to Heechul’s door. He didn't even need to ring; Heechul is standing outside, waiting. Always waiting, Jungsoo realizes. Always waiting, when Jungsoo can't imagine having to wait at all. The way Heechul’s hair is all messed up from sleep makes Jungsoo’s abdomen flip, and he can't breathe again. The feeling is familiar, but now he knows what it means, and so it feels new anyway, electric.
He stands in front of Heechul, who is leaning against the door frame, like he's guarding it.
“Hello,” he says.
Heechul looks up at him, half-glare, half-wince. “What is it?” he asks, as he did earlier.
“I’m in love with you,” Jungsoo says, again. Now that he knows, he can't stop himself. A force in his chest is making him braver than he has ever figured himself to be.
“You haven't changed your mind in the 27 minutes it took you to get here?”
“No.”
Heechul just looks at him, keeps on looking. Jungsoo is not used to that face so serious, that look so stern and focused. He looks pained, almost, such a far feeling from Jungsoo’s very own helpless, hapless, hopeless breathlessness that feels freeing nonetheless.
“All these years, and you just show up at my door and tell me.” When Heechul speaks, he averts his gaze, his look landing on the floor. Jungsoo has this terrible want to cup that chin up, see those eyes. “All these years,” he scoffs. “And now you do it.”
“I only knew this morning,” Jungsoo clarifies. He doesn't understand why Heechul is so upset. Jungsoo’s certainty right now knows no bounds; he is as sure of Heechul’s love for him as he is that the earth moves around the sun; maybe even more sure, because he knows his heart better than planetary movement, can feel it beating right there in his chest, and he is as certain of Heechul’s love for him as he is of loving Heechul.
“Ask me when I knew that I love you,” Heechul says, so casually, and despite it all, Jungsoo’s breath still catches at the word love.
“When?” he obeys.
“Way too long ago.” Heechul is curled into himself, like he's trying to make himself small, small enough to fit in the sliver of space between the door jamb. “So I have over a decade under my belt… and you have known for, what, an hour?”
Heechul looks like he's in so much distress, and Jungsoo’s pleasant breathlessness is turning now into something sour and sharp.
“Heechulie…,” he tries to call out.
“You’re in love with me too, aren’t you?” Heechul mimics Jungsoo’s earlier question, curls his voice up a bit to do it. “What kind of question is that?”
Heechul scrunches his face, the way he does when he's about to cry, except he doesn't cover his face, makes no attempt to stop the tears when they start welling up.
Jungsoo steps closer now, gently lays his hands on Heechul’s arms, partly boxing him in, almost holding him up. “Heechulie, what is it?” Jungsoo’s heart aches as he says it. “Why are you so angry?” he says, softly, like he's talking to a spooked animal.
“So many years,” Heechul says. His frown is deep and twisted. “Do you know how long 15 years is?”
“I do,” Jungsoo says. 15 years ago was 2011. Lifetimes and lifetimes have happened, so many versions of them have gone since, have died and been reborn. “I know how long it is. I was there with you.”
“And it didn't occur to you, all that while?” Heechul has a bit of venom in his voice. He is uncharacteristically still as he says it, his flowing hair not moving an inch, even with all that frustration inflected in his words. “Not at all?”
Jungsoo doesn't know how to answer, not now, not when it seems any answer could hurt Heechul, Heechul who is terribly upset, terribly fragile, terribly terribly vulnerable, not when his soft mouth is trembling just so.
“I wasn't waiting for you,” Heechul continues. “I was done waiting for you.”
“You are done waiting for me.” Jungsoo replies now, against the thing he can argue against. “Because I’m here now.”
“Why now?” Heechul still looks disbelieving, still has that accusatory frown. How can Jungsoo make him believe?
He takes a deep breath. “Heechul. I’m not as quick as you. Or… or as astute.” He keeps his hand on Heechul’s arm, a slight squeeze.”I’m sorry it took me so long… I'm sorry it took me until now to realize.”
This close, Jungsoo can feel Heechul’s stuttering breath, the way one holds air in when they're trying to not feel a pain all the way.
But this is not pain. It's love. It's love. Jungsoo is so sure. He wants Heechul to feel love all the way like he has never felt before.
He moves his left hand from Heechul’s arm on to the man’s chest: an open palm against that expanse. He moves it in circles, the way he does for himself when his emotions rush over like a tide. Heechul is still looking at him with those teary eyes, and Jungsoo inhales, exhales, hopes Heechul subconsciously follows, stubborn Heechul who would not take well to being told to try and regulate his breathing, not now, probably not ever.
It works. Heechul’s face softens, brow unfurling just the slightest, and he exhales, finally. He keeps on looking at Jungsoo, his eyes travelling over Jungsoo’s face. When he stills Jungsoo’s soothing hand with his own, Jungsoo feels lightheaded from both the warmth of Heechul’s palm and the sound of Heechul’s beating heart, his hand sandwiched between the most vivid manifestation of Heechul’s alive body, the distinct feeling of his physical existence.
“Jungsoo,” Heechul starts, and his voice is kinder now, less accusatory. “I don't need you to love me back. I never needed it. I just want to take care of you. I don't need you to love me back for that.”
“Alright,” Jungsoo says. “Can I do it anyway?”
Heechul finally, finally, cracks a smile. Just a small one, more an exhale than anything, but Jungsoo feels the current of it run from Heechul’s chest on to his fingertips, his palm, can trace its effects spreading through his whole body.
“Wow,” Heechul says. “You're relentless today, aren't you?”
“I’m just sure,” Jungsoo says. “About you.”
Heechul finally looks at him as if with resolution, lips pursed. He turns Jungsoo’s hand around, wraps his own around it, holds it up against his lips in an almost kiss.
“Come back tomorrow,” he whispers against Jungsoo’s hand. “Sleep on it. And if you're still sure tomorrow, come back.”
Jungsoo hesitates, but concedes. “Okay,” he says. He takes Heechul’s hand and gives it a kiss of his own, firmer than Heechul’s tender lip touch against his knuckles, more resolute. “Alright.”
When Jungsoo turns his head back towards Heechul before the corner to the elevator, Heechul is still watching him, his back still against the door.
The day after Jungsoo realizes he's in love, it's raining. He rises the same way, brushes his teeth the same way, gives Shimkoong the same breakfast, the same morning pats. He takes the same route to Heechul’s, now with the windshield wipers working intensely, the sound of the rain a fierce and unforgiving static.
The day after he realizes he's in love, he catches sight of Heechul in the lobby before he has even closed his umbrella; Heechul, with his combed hair and crossed legs, sitting on one of the lobby couches, eyes lasered in right at Jungsoo.
He watches as Jungsoo shakes his umbrella dry, places it in the rack. He watches as Jungsoo lets himself into the building, walks up to him with that purposeful stride.
“Hello,” Jungsoo says, standing right in front of Heechul. Heechul doesn't respond, instead just stands up, starts walking to the elevators. Jungsoo walks after him like an obedient, well-trained dog, watches his back, the way his shirt follows the slope of his shoulders, his hair gently touching the nape of his neck.
Jungsoo feels overcome.
He watches Heechul even more as the elevator number gets higher and higher, watches Heechul as Heechul refuses to look at him. The curve of that nose, the soft dip under those lips.
“You came back,” Heechul says.
“Because I’m sure,” Jungsoo amends, and Heechul finally, finally, smiles that smile he only reserves for Jungsoo, that bashful close-mouthed high-cheeked thing, the one that makes him look like he's holding back a bubbly laugh.
He turns over to look at Jungsoo, still with that look of mirth. “You're relentless,” he says, and Jungsoo feels all the tenseness in his body melt away. He smiles back at Heechul as if in instinct, all wide and toothy. He feels buoyant, boyish.
“I don't know what you like to eat for breakfast, actually, so I just got a bunch of stuff delivered. You can pick whatever you like,” Heechul says.
Heechul was waiting for him then. Heechul knew he was coming back. Jungsoo feels the delight warm him up to the bone. “You really need to learn how to cook.”
“Well, next time you can teach me,” Heechul says.
“Alright,” Jungsoo responds just as the elevator doors ding open. They walk to Heechul’s door, now side by side. Heechul opens it to an excited Kibok wagging his tail and jumping for joy.
“Kibok, you behave today,” Heechul says as he crouches down to ruffle the dog. “We have a visitor.”
Jungsoo watches, smiles at the sight, and closes the door behind him.