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It was a sort of tradition that Jisung and Chenle would drink together in at least one city for each leg of their tours.They would spend most of the night talking and some of it sleeping, not caring if they had a show the next day because some things were just too good to cut short.
Nagoya was especially fun; Chenle had gone out of his way to purchase a multitude of Japanese beer and thoroughly educate Jisung on each one before they actually got to drinking. Jisung didn’t care much about the history of these beers—they all tasted the same to him anyway—but he did enjoy hearing Chenle talk about something he was passionate about. The off but on-topic rambling, the hasty way he spit his sentences out, how his hands flailed in excitement—Jisung had no choice but to listen with his head in his hands.
A few drinks in, his label as an Emotional Drunk was proving itself to be true. He wanted to thank the fans for a great concert, that’s all.
“I wanna go on live,” Jisung said suddenly, sitting up from where he was laying down on the hotel bed. Chenle took a long sip of beer, finishing off the bottle.
“No,” Chenle snapped, the answer quick and simple.
Jisung frowned.
“Why?” he whined with a pout, making Chenle scoff. He climbed off the bed so he could grab another drink, refusing to look at Jisung’s pitiful face.
“You’re gonna fucking embarrass yourself, dude.”
“What? How?”
Chenle shook his head, signaling he was done with the conversation. Jisung was determined to get an answer out of him; he couldn’t think of a single reason why they couldn’t go live! It’s not like he was blackout drunk, just a little tipsy.
“I’m so in control right now!”
Chenle used a bottle opener to pop the cap off his beer and walked back towards the bed.
“Like hell you are. You’re gonna say something cringy and then wake up hating yourself. It happens all the time,” Chenle reasoned, and Jisung hated how correct he sounded.
“Okay but-“ He took a second, attempting to find a valid defense for himself, before settling on, “No I won’t!”
Jisung tried his best to look upset in order to manipulate the elder, widening his eyes and puffed out his bottom lip.
“You’re so stupid,” Chenle said pointedly and took a sip. “I know you too well, acting cute won’t work on me.”
“What could I possibly say?” Jisung said, exasperated.
“Probably that you’d marry a fan or start crying.”
Jisung tried to act offended but failed, because Chenle was probably right. He was, unfortunately, usually correct about these things.
Jisung sighed and picked up his phone. If Chenle was stopping him from going live, he was at least going to update everyone on Bubble. Jisung heard the ding from Chenle’s phone signaling that he got the notification—he saw the banner pop up at the top of his screen and groaned.
“This is the exact shit I was talking about,” he said while reading over the message ten times over, as if he couldn’t believe it was actually there.
“You’re more embarrassed than me.”
Chenle threw his phone down and looked at Jisung heatedly.
“If you went live you’d unzip that hoodie and show off your collar bones and, like, bite your glasses trying to act all sexy and shit.”
“You think I'm sexy?” Jisung joked. “Wow, I'm so thankful.”
“I’m cutting you off, you're crazy.”
Chenle grabbed the bottle from Jisung’s hand and placed it on the bedside table along with his own finished bottle. Jisung didn’t complain because it’s not like he enjoyed the taste of alcohol. He would be pleased seeing how annoyed Chenle was getting with or without another sip.
Jisung laid down and stared at Chenle shamelessly, angelic features shining beautifully even in the terrible hotel lighting. It wasn’t like this was anything unique to him being drunk. In Jisung’s eyes, Chenle was always gorgeous with a bright halo around his head. Okay, maybe that was the alcohol.
Chenle looked down at him from his phone and groaned.
“Stop staring at me like a fucking creep.”
Jisung smiled and sat up, further examining Chenle’s face. He loved to watch: watch Chenle sing, dance, smile, laugh—he could go on for years about all the things he loved to see Chenle do.
“You’re getting red. Am I making you flustered?”
Chenle pushed Jisung away and made a frustrated noise in his throat.
“This is why I hate seeing you drunk.”
“You just care about me so much, don’t you Chenle?” Jisung teased, knowing it would get on Chenle’s nerves. If there was anything he hated, it was being called out for how much he cared about Jisung.
Jisung always thought Chenle was cute, but the way he got so defensive when he was tipsy just made him want to coo and squeeze him until he popped.
“Die,” Chenle said and rolled away from Jisung, hugging his knees to his chest. And how could Jisung not wrap his arms around Chenle’s body and tuck his head into his neck. It was practically an invitation.
“Are you mad at me?” Jisung whispered into the soft skin of Chenle’s neck, breathing in the smell of hotel soap. Chenle just nodded, eyes glued to his phone, refusing to acknowledge Jisung’s touch. “Yea?” Jisung breathed out, only just loud enough for either of them to hear. He placed a hand at the dip of Chenle’s hip, circling the soft skin through his favorite t-shirt.
Chenle tried to suppress the chills that ran through his body, hugging himself closer and staring at his Twitter homepage with more intensity than needed.
Jisung slipped his hand underneath the fabric and thumbed at the skin right above Chenle’s hip bone. His breath hitched and he grabbed Jisung’s hand.
“Jisung,” he sighed—it was an attempt to sound commanding but his voice was on the brink of breaking.
Jisung hummed in response, nosing up Chenle’s jaw. Finally, Chenle melted into the touch, taking a deep breath and relaxing his body. He turned around so his face was centimeters away from Jisung’s and rolled his eyes.
“I fucking hate you,” Chenle said and then pressed his lips against Jisung’s, calmly kissing him as though it were a form of stress relief, and it kind of was for the both of them. Being in the comfort of each other’s presence, being able to love without prying eyes—they took solace in these small moments.
Jisung pulled back and cupped Chenle’s cheek with one hand, looking into his boyfriend's eyes like they held the secrets of the universe, or some other space related thing. Chenle took Jisung’s hand into one of his own.
“I don't hate you.” It was like a confession, though they both already knew what was being confessed.
He lifted Jisung’s hand to his lips and trailed kisses from his knuckles down to his wrist; Jisung grew warm as he watched. Chenle, though he hardly showed it, was a romantic when in the confines of thick walls and accompanied by Jisung.
“Aw, we can't have rough hate-sex?” Jisung joked, cutting through the thick, love-smitten air surrounding them.
Chenle threw Jisung’s hand back towards him and flopped onto his back. “You're gross,” he said with little bite and more giggle.
“Oh please, as if you're innocent,” Jisung said while scooting closer to Chenle, climbing on top of him and placing his hands on either side of his head. “I see how you look at my biceps.”
Chenle laughed loudly in Jisung’s face.
“And we all know why you started bulking. You were jealo-”
“I was not jealous.”
“‘Oh my boyfriend is all over our beefy bandmates, how ever may I compete?’” Chenle mocked, pitching up his voice.
“My voice is not that high. And I was not jealous.” It wasn’t a lie; he knew that Chenle wasn’t going to leave him because he liked how defined Jaemins chest was. It was the principle of the situation that had Jisung overthinking.
Chenle simply giggled and pushed Jisung off of him.
Jisung settled back down and, once again went back to his favorite pastime: staring at Chenle. It wasn’t creepy, it was like appreciating a piece of fine art, a piece that just so happened to be meticulously sculpted by the Gods and placed onto Earth to put every other being to shame. That was in Jisung’s eyes, at least.
“What should we eat for breakfast tomorrow?”
Jisung blinked back into reality as Chenle looked towards him.
“Room service?” he spluttered out. He didn’t even like room service that much.
Chenle hummed before shaking his head.
“Me and Haechan had their room service this morning. It was okay.”
“You had breakfast without me?” Jisung asked as a joke, but there was some true hurt mixed in. He knew Chenle wasn’t a big PDA person, especially since they were so used to keeping things secret, but he’d appreciate it if his boyfriend would invite him out sometimes.
Chenle snorted and responded, “I ate it without you because I knew you wouldn’t like it.”
Jisung tilted his head.
“You like, like homemade stuff. They were serving fancy shit—you’d hate it.”
Jisung felt his vision grow blurry with tears he refused to let fall, touched by the sentiment. It was the small things that ensured Jisung that Chenle liked him more than he did anyone else; it was how he pretended not to care but would then do something to prove that Jisung was his light; it was the casual looks that Jisung failed at hiding, but that Chenle had mastered. That was one thing about Chenle—he was perfectly balanced between work and love and everything that mattered to him. Maybe that was why he seemed cold to Jisung sometimes—he was trying to maintain that balance. He would never let one show more than the other, he would give the same outright attention to Jisung and the other members, but would show his love through small mediums that only Jisung knew meant more.
And maybe that’s all that mattered. Maybe Chenle knew that’s all Jisung really cared about.
“That’s why you like my food so much,” Chenle said while wearing a proud grin.
Jisung smiled softly, enjoying the look of confidence on Chenle’s face. What expression did he not like on Chenle’s face?
“Yea, I wish you’d cook for me forever.”
Chenle scoffed.
“I'm not a maid, you can make your own food.”
Jisung hugged Chenle from the side, resting his head on his chest. He was scrolling through the restaurants near them and was passing everything without a second look. Jisung knew they wouldn’t be able to pick a spot and they’d just have to follow Mark wherever he went.
“You love cooking for me.”
Jisung could sense the eye roll he was receiving.
“Take off your glasses, they'll leave marks,” Chenle said, yet didn’t even let Jisung try to take off his own glasses before he reached for them himself and gently placed them on the bedside table. Jisung nuzzled his cheek into Chenle’s chest, feeling the heartbeat of the man under him.
“Why’s your heart beating so fast?” Jisung asked drowsily, already feeling his eyes growing heavy. It was odd—Jisung used to take hours to fall asleep, but having Chenle in his presence made everything easier.
“It’s not.”
Jisung could tell that Chenle was embarrassed and that made him smile to himself.
“You love me so much, huh, Chenle?” Jisung teased, pulling Chenle impossibly closer.
Chenle groaned but didn’t attempt to escape Jisung’s grip.
“If you know then why’d you ask?”
“I just like the reminder,” Jisung said with a cheek-to-cheek smile.
It was cheesy, but Jisung didn’t care about being cheesy with Chenle. He didn’t have to change himself or put on some act—he could be unabashedly himself, and as much as Chenle pretended to cringe, Jisung knew it would make his heart beat quicker.
Chenle shook his head as he reached over and flicked off the switch on the lamp. They were enveloped in darkness, the moonlight only peeking in from the slight gap between the two blackout curtains.
He pulled the blanket over the two of them and combed a hand through Jisung’s hair.
“Your breath smells like beer,” Chenle said after a few minutes of silence.
“Maybe a kiss would fix it,” Jisung attempted to joke, but he was too sleepy to come up with something actually funny. Chenle laughed anyway.
“Stupid.”
And Chenle tilted Jisung’s head up and placed a small peck to his lips.
Jisung could die peacefully if it were in Chenle’s arms, surrounded by the heat that enveloped the two of them when they were this close—heart to heart, but he didn’t have to worry about the cusp of death when with Chenle, because in his arms, surrounded by his heat, was where he felt most alive.