Words get caught somewhere in Hyuntaeâs throat, lodged a little painfully, stuck. Talking about the scar on his hand is harder than one would think it is, but he finds himself wanting to tell him. Wanting to tell him what he traces, why that puckered skin mars the smoothness of his palm, why he has to feel it pressed against him when Hyuntae holds his hand like he did. He just⊠canât right now. He canât force the words out past his lips, canât get his tongue to cooperate with him. Itâs a strange sort of silence that follows, and he shifts his hand, curls his fingers over his palm, over Babyâs fingers. It feels good â feels right. Hyuntae bows his head as he angles his body towards him, dark hair falling into his face. Heâs hiding, just a little bit, and he knows it, too.
There is something inherently intimate about sharing his name with somebody. Not the name he usually goes by, but his real name, the one that his mother gave him when he was born. He doesnât keep it hidden, often using it as his social media handles, but no one really calls him it besides Minkyu. He decides in that moment that he wants it to be Baby, too. He wants him to have that piece, however small it might seem to him. âHyuntae.â He breathes it, canting his head to the side slightly so that his hair falls into his eyes now. He blinks, parting his lips, and he just looks at him for a moment or two before he clarifies. âCall me Hyuntae. Please.âÂ
Itâs then that their little bubble is expanded. Minkyu doesnât puncture it so much as he enters it, and Hyuntae feels his presence wash over him like a warm wave. It makes his heart skip a beat when he looks up at him, sees the freckles dotting his cheeks, splayed over smooth skin like stars. Like the glitter on Babyâs cheeks. He does not pull his hand away, does not move â suddenly and all at once, there is no shame and no embarrassment left to be had. He wants Minkyu to see it, and maybe, just maybe he wants Minkyu to see his feelings, too. His confusing, ridiculous feelings that are not letting him rest, not letting him do anything because all he wants is to gather the both of them into his arms and hold them until they fall asleep. Until he falls asleep.
âIs it early, or is it late?â Hyuntae speaks in a teasing sort of voice, accent thicker as it wraps around his words. Speaking to Baby in their native tongue and the alcohol have made it the way that it is, and he doesnât seem to notice as he switches between the languages. âIâve been drinking. Baby hasnât had any for a while.â He makes sure to not throw him under the bus, but rather to protect him in a small, soft sort of way. Dark amber eyes peer up at him, and thereâs a slight curve to his lips that gives him away more than anything else ever could. With his free hand, he closes the book and sets it down beside him. âJoin us?â
Hyuntae registers the worry in his voice, but he hopes that his offer is taken for what itâs meant to be: acceptance, comfort, the knowledge that they are all here together, and the energy in the air feels so damn good he could cry. Reaching a hand out, he tugs at the front of Minkyuâs sweatshirt, bringing him a little bit closer. A thought is spared for Baby, for what he might think, but he wraps his fingers around his hand and gives it a light squeeze. Itâs nice to know that heâs there, to know that thereâs something in him that makes him not want to go away. Maybe heâs just drunk, being forward like this. Being brave like this.
          đđĄđ  đŹđąđ„đđ§đđ  đđĄđđ  đ„đąđ§đ đđ«đŹ  đ„đđđŻđđŹÂ  babylon wondering if heâs asked something that maybe he shouldnât have , if he should have kept the question wrapped around his tongue and imprisoned behind his lips . tattooed fingers continue to trace the scar , a fleck or two of glitter coming off of his fingertips and onto hyuntaeâs palm , before he settles , holds his hand and lets his own hand be held . briefly , he wishes he had his barrettes on him , so he could clip them into hyuntaeâs hair to keep the dark strands from hiding pretty features . the words that finally spill into the air , soft and not what baby was expecting , but still welcome all the same , make his heart flutter and the corners of red - stained lips tilt up in a smile .  â hyuntae ,  â he breathes , like something precious is has just been gifted to him ,  â pretty .  â
          minkyuâs presence at his side is familiar , something akin to home , and itâs oh , so welcome . there is an uncertainty that lingers in his ribcage , though , something that has his fingers twitching under henryâs , almost daring to pull away if only because he feels like he should , as his other hand comes up to grasp at one of kyuâs . he seeks out a point of contact , any point of contact , from his lover , because heâs been lacking as such since heâd detangled himself from his limbs in the dark of the too - early morning and took to his own unhealthy ways of swallowing down cherry - flavoured liquor instead . tattooed fingers fumble with kyuâs own shorter ones , almost daring to tug him closer , some sort of silent plea to hold and be held even more so than he already is .
           â ah , but i started it , the drinking ,  â heâs quick to clarify , ensuring that kyu knows that it was his fault , the drunkness that lingers in them , and not hyuntaeâs . â he found me ,  âm was already drunk when he did . itâs my fault .  â though he doesnât feel drunk anymore , he thinks , not really , not in the usual sense . already pouty lips press into something even more so as glitter - framed lashes flutter , all but batting prettily up at minkyu  in a way that borders some type of bratty innocence , something that says please ,  donât be mad . i might burst into tears if youâre mad at me , at us .
          the slight squeeze to his hand is comforting , reassuring in a way that lets him know that maybe , maybe , thereâs no need for the vague remnants of uncertainty that linger in him . something that lets him know that this â them and whatever is between them , the connection , the chemistry â isnât being imagined , that maybe itâs not a figment created by the alcohol in their bloodstreams or the shared sunrise in the sky ; that itâs just them , that maybe itâs not going anywhere .
          fingers clutch at a fistful of his own sweatshirt that hangs from kyuâs frame , something in him begging to be closer to his lover .  â iâm sorry i wasnât there when you woke up ,  â words are whispered , just barely audible over the rise and fall of the glassy , crystalline waves kissing the shore and pulling away again .  â meant to be .  â a pause , a silence spills over him .  â  please  ,  join  us  ,  â  he breathes after a moment ,  words  coated  in  a  cherry - sweet  desperation  . ( @miinkyuuâ )
heâs being reached for, grasped, drawn in by the slightly too-big clothing heâs donned against the early morning chill. baby takes his hand and hyuntae tugs his hem and itâs only natural that he should acquiesce to their shared wordless request. he sinks down to his knees in between them, the sand pillowing around him and making room. itâs his space now, as much as theirs. in all his wicked, selfish dreams, never once did minkyu allow himself to entertain the possibility that it could translate into a reality, where he could exist around both his baby and his hyuntae with neither pushing nor pulling more than the other. to be here among them feels like a shimmering mirage, something that will shatter completely if he looks at it for too long; heâs scared to look.
but look he does. any inkling to continue his scolding evaporates at the combined efforts of hyuntaeâs playfulness and babyâs pout. âitâs early,â kyu dares to use his voice, âtoo early for drinking.â heâs not mad though and he makes that abundantly clear in the affection springing to his fingertips. leaning forward, he ghosts a touch to the smooth skin of babyâs cheek, caressing down to his jawline and following it to his chin. already near, he repeats the gesture upon hyuntaeâs face, dancing a feathered touch to his features before sinking back onto his haunches to flutter a gaze between them both. âwhat am i meant to do with you two?â he laments on a sigh. (he hopes the fact that heâs thrilled by the two of them being a two doesnât overshadow his attempted authority).
to baby, he lets his hand fall to a thigh, giving a quick squeeze of understanding. âyouâre forgiven,â he allows, âbut only because youâve not wandered off alone. iâm --â his voice catches, weakens, hammering heart dancing into a dangerous hopeful territory from which he isnât sure heâll be able to pull away. âiâm grateful that youâve found each other.â he flutters his stare downwards, to wind-lined sands, then over to hyuntae directly. âthank you for not letting him be alone.â he recognizes a shared concern there; it wasnât for minkyuâs benefit that henryâs cared for babylon in such a state. maybe thatâs a part of it but thereâs an individual care there too. that isnât something for which kyu has to thank him but heâs grateful for it nonetheless.Â
he wants to pick that apart, to explore the depths of the feelings that babylon and henry have cultivated for one another to the point of hand-holding. he wants to ask them when and how but the bottle of mostly-gone alcohol keeps the questions from spilling out of his lips. itâs far more important to have those kinds of conversations without any influences, of sound mind and sound body. oh, but he aches to feed his curiosity and the insistent whims of his imagination. he longs to daydream: about baby, about hyuntae, about their possibilities. possibilities he hadnât even thought himself allowed.
âjoin me instead,â he urges as he reaches for their enjoined hands. both his small ones come to cover the intertwined digits, pleading with his touch. he may not have experienced much of babylonâs drinking habits but he knows of hyuntaeâs. heâs a lightweight that contradicts with his stature, which dwarfs both himself and baby even sitting as they are now. hyuntae has cared for a drunken baby but, now, minkyu wants to care for them both. âcome to bed with me?â here, thereâs very little he can do for them -- at the villa, there are layers in which to wrap them both, water glasses to fetch to fight off mid-day hangovers and a bed upon which to lay, to rest. they may not sleep but their eyes can close, at least. kyu feels far more awake than both hyuntae and baby look and thatâs enough to draw him out of the fantasy of laying in between them both on the beach. âplease?â ( @hyuntceâ )
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