it burns in his ears and he wishes he could stop listening, but he canât. he canât because heâs weak for zelo and he canât because, even if he wasnât, the teen is practically a mere inch from his face and his request is pleasantânot too much to ask for, never too much when it came to zelo. selective hearing would be a wonderful trait to pick up on when it came to others.
he hates being asked to do things that arenât productive in some way, much like he doesnât like to be touched or like he doesnât enjoy when others come withinhis space. if you were out of sight, you were out of mind. and thatâs how he liked it. but whenever zelo asked, he gave, and so it was a matter of seconds before his arms were wrapped around a slim frame in a firm embrace. he realized that he no longer experienced the overwhelming rush of nauseation settling within the pit of his stomach when he touched zelo, held him close and felt his warmth against his own body.
he smirks to himself and makes sure to look away.
negativity is spewed from his mouth, but he knows better now. zelo isnât that young anymore and, despite the trivial internal battle to keep himself shut off, much like the boy can break the nature of atoms apart without more than a simple thought, he can break apart yonggukâs entire being.
"well you should have brought a jacket. itâs not my fault youâre cold.â his brows furrow, but heâs glad zelo doesnât listen to him (almost ever) because heâs glad he can hold him like his (and he doesnât know why).
"i'm not blaming you for being cold, i'm not blaming anyone. i just--" he pauses, closes his eyes. yongguk's warmth finally seeps in, blanketing over the chill, plucking out the cold that had settled in his bones. he'll never know what the older's secret is to a tepid existence; he figures it's the same with everything. go big or go home--completeness is just yongguk's lifestyle. he almost feels guilty for asking favors, as though one tug of a loose thread will make it all unravel, will bare yongguk, tear him open like a book. but it doesn't, at least junhong doesn't notice. he only grins, letting his eyes thin until they flutter shut and he's laughing, warm chuckles that bump and float like balloons that tie around his tongue.
"i just wanted to be warm. it's my fault, but whatever." a shrug trembles through his shoulders but he doesn't chase after it; his position is too comfortable to be disturbed or compromised. an embrace does wonders but one from yongguk is something else. although slim, his frame carries a power inside, as though yongguk is actually a giant folded into a tall, thin man. junhong smiles again, the residue of his laughter. of course yongguk is a folded giant.
"why do i even need a jacket when you're around." he adds. "you're like a space heater. are you always sick?" junhong blinks his eyes open and gazes at the elder, finally wrapping his arms, too, around his waist as best as he can. his fingers splay and his palms fall flat on yongguk's back, wanting to glean as much warmth as he can from his fevered presence.
the quiver in his spine ceases, no longer cold or freezing, but finally reaching a state of bliss, of comfort.
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