42: Alexithymia.

Hyunjin’s expression did not twitch once during the explanation, his grip on his coffee cup staying loose and comfortable. He was one of those people that could not be read whenever Jisung wanted to, and Jisung had no clue what Hyunjin thought of any of it.

“--and then I told him I liked him, and he went all ‘I don’t believe you because you are a slut, Jisung’--”

“I did not say that.”

“--and I had to fight him about it, and then it turned out he was also sort of into me, and it all turned out fine. Then we walked down the mountain together, and now here we are.”

The silence was ringing after that. Hyunjin’s gaze had fallen onto the coffee cup, long empty, and Jisung waited nervously for the inevitable accusations and undue worry for his mental health.

Which was fine, for once, Jisung felt fine.

“Right,” Hyunjin said then. “Okay. Look, I’m not saying I don’t believe you. That whole story is insane enough that it could literally only happen to you.”

Jisung nodded. Fair. He’d always been a bit of a magnet for improbable, troublesome events.

“And it’s– see, you just disappeared. Just like that. I was so sure they’d gotten you, that they’d killed you for no reason, but then I asked around and no one knew anything. And they would’ve known about something like that. Yeji cursed me alot, I was living around in guilt.”

“Hyunjin...”

"I had even considered the possibility that you might have really fled, which would have been wise if you had taken any money with you, but you didn't. And you wouldn’t have left me and Yeji like that,” Hyunjin said.

“I wouldn’t have,” Jisung confirmed, couldn’t help the sad note in his voice. “Of course I wouldn’t.”

“The police were useless as usual. I filed a missing person’s report but there was no sign of you at all, anywhere. Like you’d just been erased from existence.”

Hyunjin appeared exhausted as he related the event from a year prior. Jisung wondered if he could’ve been as calm as he seemed, had Hyunjin disappeared like that. He didn’t think so.

“So whatever crazy nonsense happened to you this past year, I don’t really care. It is possible that you crossed realities, or something, and brought with you an unusually attractive boyfriend," Hyunjin explained. “It’s fine. I don’t care. But you-- if you do this to me again, Jisung, I will actually hunt you down and kill you myself.”

“We’ll be leaving after a year again,” Jisung blurted out before he could stop himself.

Hyunjin stared at him for an excruciating amount of time, before finally sighing. “Are you going to let me know beforehand?”

“Yeah, of course.”

“Then we’re fine,” Hyunjin stated, standing up from his armchair. “Want more coffee? I need to go to sleep, so you can make it yourself. I’ve got work tomorrow.”

“You graduated?” Jisung asked, delighted.

“A few months ago. Yeji got to do an internship in Riga. She moved there last month. I have been saving up so I can move out of this hellhole as well. Oh, by the way, your stuff’s in boxes. I wouldn’t have thrown them away, but. Well.”

“Yeah. It’s fine.”

They looked at each other for a long time, silently observing the person they had not seen in a year. Hyunjin looked tired, but there was a brightness in his eyes as well. Jisung probably looked like the worst kind of crybaby with his red-rimmed eyes.

“Good night.” he said finally.

“Good night.” Hyunjin replied. Stopped while passing him to grab his shoulder and squeeze. He disappeared into his own room, the door clicking softly as it closed.

Minho was looking at Jisung, then. Eyes roaming on him unashamedly, openly, like searching for something in the smallest details of him. Jisung smiled at him, a bit tiredly.

“Minho… I think I’m exhausted with everything. Let’s go to sleep, yeah?” The man nodded, and when Jisung left his room, followed close behind like a shadow.

Everything seemed the same around there as well, though most of Jisung’s stuff was indeed in boxes. The bed was the same, unmade like he’d left it. He didn’t know why Hyunjin hadn’t touched it.

Probably out of sentimentality. Maybe some part of him had been hoping for Jisung’s return.

“Don’t judge me for the mess. It is actually cleaner now that there are no items on the table or shelves. Oh, he cleaned the windowsill as well. I had a Newton’s Cradle there. I’ll show it to you tomorrow, it’s cool.”

“Mn.”

Jisung pushed some boxes to the sides of the room, clearing the path to the bed. He took the blanket off the bed and gave it a little shake to see if it was dusty, but it seemed that Hyunjin had maintained a high standard of hygiene in this place.

Then Jisung took off the robes, one by one, letting them drop onto the floor. He was wearing the t-shirt and shorts under them, the outfit he’d worn a year ago on his trip to the store.

“God, I’m spent.” he whined, climbing into bed.

Only then did he notice that Minho was still standing there, staring at him with slightly widened eyes. His ears were a little red.

The air felt too hot and still, too much like summer, as Jisung squinted at him and tried to understand the reaction. 

Minho’s eyes were indeed stuck somewhere below the line where Jisung’s shorts ended, on a soft sliver of skin that was high enough on his thigh that it could’ve maybe passed as improper even here.

Perhaps he is drawn to my anime legs.

Then, Minho exhaled, turning his gaze away to the walls again. His usual tactic.

“Jisung,” the man said, voice hoarse. “We are not married.”

Jisung blinked at him, having expected to hear something along the lines of ‘sleeping without a robe is forbidden’.

“Yeah, and I wasn’t joking about us not being engaged either until you ask me properly.”

The other nodded, looking serious. “We will discuss it later.”

“Sure. We’ve been dating for ninety minutes already. About time, I think,” Jisung said, grinning.

“Jisung. You need sleep,” Minho replied, still sounding severe, almost admonishing.

“...Yes,” said Jisung, not entirely in the loop.

“I will not lie with you tonight,” the man stated then.

Jisung stared at the ears, which were now bright red, but his chin was held up stubbornly, ready to defend his stance. Jisung had to perform some mental somersaults to finally see the big picture. He then glanced down at himself, at the worn black t-shirt and the shorts, and couldn’t help but laugh.

“ Minho! Do you think I’m trying to seduce you?” he asked. “Is this what you find hot? Very tired, emotionally exhausted college dropout dressed in shorts?"

Minho glared at him. “Jisung undressed in front of me.”

"Yeah, because I want to sleep next to you, and the air conditioning is terrible here, and it is hot," Jisung said, still stifling laughter into his hand. Minho seemed to want to respond, but the man simply shook his head, sighed, and turned away.

“What– Minho, are you kidding me? You really won’t sleep next to me?” Jisung whined.

“If Jisung dresses properly.”

“Minho~I will die,” he groaned. “Besides, we’re together now! It’s fine.”

“...”

“I just really want to go to sleep,” Jisung said, then, all the whining out of his voice was replaced with the genuine tiredness he felt. “Please, just come to bed, alright? Let’s freak out about it tomorrow.”

Minho sighed again, but from the way his shoulders slumped ever so slightly, Jisung could tell he had won. The man stripped off his outer robe, folded it, and placed it on the nightstand. Then he took Jisung’s robes and did the same to them.

Finally, he took off the hairpin and tied his hair into a bun. Then, just like that, he slid into the bed next to Jisung. Very stiff, but probably tired enough to not actually start panicking if Jisung clung onto him like a koala.

The man did not react when Jisung slid closer, bare knees and all. Minho even opened his arms for him, remaining motionless as Jisung pressed his head against Minho's chest, listening to his heart's frantic beating.

He would have probably teased him about it, but it was late and he was really tired.

So they fell asleep in each other's arms, as if they were meant to.