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Gihun has noticed that Junho's smile never reaches his eyes: there's always a bit of melancholy in him, a sadness that never goes away no matter the circumstances and that becomes desperation in the most intimate moments - desperate it's the way he clings to him, the way his fingers press into Gihun's skin as if to confirm he's real, the gentle and warm touch of his lips on his neck, how his eyes sometime become shiny with tears that never fall.
Something has happened to Junho, something that goes beyond how much he misses his brother, but he has never opened up about it, nor Gihun has ever posed the question, he doesn't feel he has a right to, to be honest: after all, he and Junho are still basically strangers despite those few 'incidents.'
Sure, Junho shared a few anecdotes about his life, like how he's here just thanks to his brother and his kidney that he had donated to him - Gihun has seen the scar, has touched it multiple times, and every time he can't help but feel both grateful that Junho is still here and sad that he had to suffer so much as such young age - or a few funny stories from his time in the police. But it's far, far from actually knowing him, something Gihun doesn't want to do. Their position is too precarious for that, they are too much at risk, they can't get attached. He can't get attached.
He's fond of Junho, he won't deny that, but it doesn't go beyond that. It can't go beyond that.
That is why he feigns annoyance when the younger shows up at the motel with a shopping bag in one hand and a bouquet of red roses in the other, a boyish smile on his handsome face.
"You should be home," it's the first thing he tell Junho, but still moves to make him enter.
"I come bearing food," is the reply as he hands him the bouquet, "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"
He can't deny that.
"Still, isn't it late?" he asks, resisting the urge to smell the flowers.
"I'm thirty, not fifteen," Junho says as he walks towards Gihun's room.
Gihun sighs, looks at the roses and allows himself to sink his nose between the soft petals, and inhales. His heart flutters and he curses at himself.
They eat the takeaway food on the bed, watching a cheap but funny drama from a tablet while sitting against the headboard. Gihun wish he could complain about something but the food is delicious, there's even a few cans of beer, and Junho's presence is warm and welcomed at his side. They exchange a few words, mostly jokes about the drama, and Gihun finds himself laughing and not thinking about the game, feeling the lightest he has ever felt in a long time.
And he doesn't like that.
The previous 'incidents' have been just that: incidents. They should mean nothing in the great scheme of things but he doesn't know how to categorize them: a quick way to unleash some tension seems the most logical explanation, but he doubts Junho has trouble finding someone younger and more attractive to spend his time with. A way to know each other is such a ridiculous idea he immediately disregards it. What is it then? What do the roses, the sharing of food and drinks, those almost daily visits mean? Is it all some sort of game for Junho? And what about him? What meaning does he give to those gestures and why? He's only human, an animal that thrives from being social, he supposes that he's a bit starved for any interaction that isn't transactional in nature. Is that the reason he feels like this when he's with him? Why his heart beats faster and he feels warmer? Why his body responds so eagerly to the other's touch?
Unable to focus on the drama he turns: unaware of his torments, Junho's eyes are fixed on the screen, he's chewing on his kimbap with gusto, and there are a few grains of rice under his lower lip.
Gihun huffs a laugh: "Here, you have," he gestures towards is face, then removes the grains with his thumb, brushing against his mouth in the process. Junho looks at him with such intensity he can't help but feel a little intimidated.
"Gihun-sshi," he calls him, his voice soft. He's expecting something, for Gihun to make the first move probably, for once.
Gihun swallows; his fingers go up towards the cheek, the temple, fixes a strands of hair behind his ear and, finally, his palm rests against the side of his face. His skin is warm and smooth from a recent shaving; the fresh smell of aftershave reaches his nose. Junho exhales and leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering before closing. He seems relaxed and at ease, but there's still a sadness in him, in the way he frowns a little and the tiny amount of hesitation in letting go. Once again he wonders what has such a young man gone through on that damn island
"Y-You should go," Gihun says, trying to sound as cold as possible while withdrawing his hand.
Junho blinks at him: "W-What, why?"
"It's late, you need to go home."
"But, wait, did I do something wrong?" Junho asks. He looks confused and crushed by his sudden change. Gihun's heart clenches at the sight.
"N-No, you were perfect- You just need to go," he says as he stands up, using the shopping bag at a trash bag to throw the used containers of food.
Junho grabs his wrist: "Gihun-sshi wait."
"What is it?" he asks, cursing the tremble in his voice.
"We... We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about."
Junho widens his eyes, stung. Gihun has to look away: "Go home," he says just before a loud bang makes them jump, followed by the sound on angry rain hitting the windows and the wind howling.
They look at each other, dumbfounded. After a few moments Junho raises an eyebrow.
Gihun sighs: "I don't think my shirts fit you."
"You know I don't sleep with shirts on," Junho replies, smiling slyly.
Gihun massages his forehead, exasperated.
It's another loud thunder that wakes him up hours later: when Gihun checks the time it's 3 am. His sleep has been restless as usual, but uneventful. Turns out that he's not plagued by nightmares when he has company in his bed. At least when Junho is the company, that is.
He turns on his side towards the younger man, who is still in deep sleep, one muscular arm draped on Gihun, his naked chest rising and falling calmly, lips slightly parted and face relaxed. He looks serene, not tormented by his own thoughts like when he is awake and convinced that Gihun isn't looking at him. It suits him, he looks more his age.
Gihun, absentminded, caresses his cheek with his knuckles, feeling the soft skin. Junho mumbles something but doesn't wake.
He can't help but smile, fond; then turns away and after struggling a little with Junho's firm grasp on his waist he gets up, curses his sore hips and back - Junho had been quite rough this time, like the prints of his fingertips and the hickeys on his neck attest - and gives one look at the roses on the nightstand. He then goes to the bathroom, enters the bathtub without waiting for the water to get warm and washes himself thoroughly with a quick shower, the last traces of sleep down the drain along with the mint-scented soap.
He had been naive to think that they could share a bed without things degenerating: Junho seems unable to keep his hands off of him when they are alone. He should have refused and force him to go into another room of the motel, not give up almost immediately and open his legs for him. He shouldn't encourage whatever is going on between them. He has a mission and getting attached might not only compromise it, but also put Junho in more danger than he already is: the organization behind the Games can and will - given the opportunity - use their relationship against them if things go south.
Gihun angrily rubs his face and hair. Why is so difficult for him to put a stop to this? Why is Junho evoking feelings that seem so, so similar to what he once felt for Eunji? Feelings he thought he was too old and too broken from a messy divorce and gambling addiction to feel again, slowly bubbling their way up to the surface at the worst time possible to add. He turns off the water, exits the bathtub and removes the condensation on the mirror with one hand: his reflection gives him back the image of a scarred body just shy from the risk of being emaciated because he keeps forgetting to eat, of deep eye bags and of a tired, old face with a persistent stubble, and it doesn't make sense. What is Junho finding in him? What is there to be attracted to? Why does Junho touch him with so much reverence and carefulness, speak his name with such softness like... Like he's some sort of worshiper in front of his idol? It's just senseless: something must be wrong with Junho. Something is wrong when he gifts him flowers - red roses, always red roses - or visits him almost daily to make sure he has eaten something, when he gets just a little too close when he corrects his posture when they train, when his hands caress his body and when he kisses him. Junho is so young and handsome, surely there's a line of girl and boys ready to court him and to make him theirs. But no, Hwang Junho for some reason wants a old man almost twenty years his senior. How can he not think that something is not quite right with the younger man?
Gihun doesn't bother to dry himself up and goes back to the bedroom, chest heavy and with thousands of thoughts in his head. He finds Junho sitting against the headboard, awake and looking at him curiously.
"I'm sorry that I woke you up," Gihun says, very self conscious of his body: he curses at himself for not having a towel at hand.
"It was a thunder, don't worry," Junho replies, and sure enough his words are follower by another loud bang; the rain hasn't stop hitting the window.
Gihun sits on the bed, wincing a little at his still sore lower body, then he lays down and covers himself with the sheets, hoping to fall asleep again despite the cold shower.
Junho scoots closer and rests his head on his shoulder, his fingers tracing random patterns on Gihun's chest. Gihun should shove him away, retract from that touch, but founds himself unable to; instead, he runs his fingers through Junho's dark hair, scraping gently at the scalp, huffing a laugh when Junho sighs, pleased.
They stay like that for a while, just existing, with rain and thunders and coldness outside and them safely tucked into bed; for a little while, there's nothing else but them. And Gihun is scared, because his heart is beating fast but he feels calm and at ease, and the things outside of this room are, for once, far away from his mind. He should think about the Games, almost wants to, but Junho is warm at his side, pliant and beautiful and happy - is he happy? Is he happy when he's with Gihun? Why should he? God, his head is starting to hurt from the amount of unanswered questions he has, and he knows it would be easier if they would just talk, like Junho has said before. But talking would make it real, and Gihun doesn't know if he can bear real.
Junho shifts against his body: he turns his head and leaves a trail of kisses where he can reach, the hand on his chest goes up and then lower and lower; Gihun feels something warm and increasingly hard on his hip.
He huffs: "Really?"
Junho laughs: "I'm only human," he says, shifting again and propping himself on one arm, kissing his way up to Gihun's neck and reaching his lips.
"I just showered," Gihun's attempt at a protest is weak, it sounds unconvincing even to his ears especially when he reciprocates the kiss; meanwhile Junho climbs on top of him and spreads his legs, pushes the sheets aside and grabs the bottle of lube from the nightstand.
"We'll have a bath later."
"You really overestimate my stamina."
"Then just lay back and let me do the work," Junho says as he spreads the lube on his fingers before reaching for Gihun's hole. He inserts two fingers without much problem, Gihun was still partially open from their previous activity, and immediately pushes them in and out, scissoring them until the other's body can welcome a third finger. Meanwhile he kisses Gihun's neck, his chest, his stomach, the scar on his abdomen, lower and lower until he can take his half-hard member into his mouth. The blowjob is sloppy in the best way possible, with a lot of spit and obscene sounds, and combined with the fingers massaging his prostate and working on his hole it makes Gihun see stars. It does take a while for his cock to become fully erect but Junho doesn't seem to mind, working at his earnest: he adds more lube on his hand and inserts a fourth finger, draws small circles into his prostate to conceal any discomfort; his mouth descends on the length of his cock and reaches his balls, sucking and licking them while with his free hand he teases the tip. Gihun bucks his hips forward, gasping and moaning and feeling so damn hot, his head clouded by pleasure. When he looks down he finds Junho's dark eyes staring at him: keeping the eye contact he gives a long lick to Gihun's cock, base to tip, before taking all of it into his mouth, his fingers moving in and out of him faster. Gihun arches his back, instinctively grabs Junho's head to keep him still and comes down his throat with a long moan, his breath heavy as he falls back on the bed, spent.
Junho sits up and licks his lips, looking oh so smug about what he just did. He takes Gihun's hand and leaves a small kiss on the knuckles, then takes the pillow and puts it under his hips.
"J-Junho-sshi, I can't-" Gihun tries to say that there's no way he can get fucked after that orgasm, especially since this was their second round and for fuck's sake he wasn't young anymore; Junho just kisses him, hot and all tongue and teeth, and opens his legs.
"Just relax Gihun-sshi, I'll be quick," he says as he aligns their hips, grabs his cock and slowly pushes it in. Gihun shivers, so open that he feels no discomfort from the intrusion; when Junho's cock brushes his prostate he can't repress a whine. There's no way he can get hard again in such short period of time, what is he going to do?
Junho establishes a fast pace, fucking Gihun with abandon, each thrust so deep and hitting his prostate again and again, and it's almost painful just how good it feels and how he can just take it and take it. He feels oversensitive, too much, too much, liquid heat is coiling in his belly and he's not even hard. He clings to Junho's shoulders and digs his nails into the skin, tries to tell him to slow down but all that comes out of his mouth is moans and gasps and soon enough Junho kisses him again on the lips, on his cheek, on his neck, on his shoulder where he then bites down, his hips go even faster, and it's all pleasure and pain peaking and mixing up and Gihun comes again, harder than before, without ejaculating, barely aware of his screams and the saliva drooling from his mouth.
"Good, Gihun, you're so good," Junho moans in his hear, that smug expression still on his face and Gihun would have punched him if he wasn't positively fucked out, barely able to rise a finger. Junho bites him on the shoulder when he reaches his climax, coming inside of him with a twitch of his hips before falling on top of him, hugging him close and kissing the mark left by his teeth.
It takes Gihun a good five minutes to recover properly and feel a bit more like himself again; when he does he finds Junho nuzzling his neck and sucking gently at the sensitive skin.
Gihun sighs, annoyed, and pokes his side: "You're heavy."
Junho laughs: "Five more minutes."
"No, no 'five more minutes' me, and don't think I didn't catch you not using the appropriate honorifics, aish."
Junho raises his head and smirks: "You can still say 'appropriate'?"
"And?"
"I didn't fuck you right if you can still say 'appropriate.'"
Gihun blushes: "Do you know shame?!"
Junho shrugs and kisses him, then slowly pulls out. Gihun shivers when he feels come leak out from his hole. He realizes that he should change the sheets but he's too tired.
Junho, on the contrary, seems energized: agile, he stands up and disappears in the bathroom; soon the sound of water filling the bathtub reaches Gihun, who is still on the bed and barely able to move. With great effort he turns on his side and sits up, his now even sorer hips making him hiss.
He really is too old for this.
"Don't move Gihun-sshi," Junho says as he returns back into the bedroom, still insufferably smug, "Give the bathtub time to fill up."
"And how am I supposed to go to the bathroom?" Gihun asks, rolling his shoulder. He feels boneless, tired and satisfied, but he knows he that it will be a hell of a morning once he has rested; plus, there's no way his legs will be able to sustain him. He raises an eyebrow when Junho comes closer, not trusting the other in the slightest especially when he's smirking like that.
"What are you doing?" he manages to say before Junho unceremoniously picks him up bridal style. He yelps - much to his embarrassment - and holds onto his neck as he's brought into the bathroom.
"Junho-sshi!"
"You're welcome Gihun-sshi," he laughs as he carefully sits him on the toilet, then stands up and leans against the wall while they wait for their bath to be ready.
Gihun looks at him flabbergasted, his brain unable to comprehend what just happened - and the effect it had on him, but that part he's going to deny it for his own sake.
"I'll go change the sheets."
"Inside the closet, third drawer," Gihun tells him after a brief pause as Junho goes back to the bedroom. Then he grimaces and slowly gets up, his legs feel like jelly but he still manages to reach the bathtub. He sits on the edge and puts his legs inside, sighing at the contact with the warm water, then adds some of the mint-scented soap and slides in. Finally, he relaxes, leaning back against the tub, the bath already dong wonders for his poor body. He submerges his head, staying under for a minute before pulling himself up; he finds Junho observing him from the door, pensive. He's still naked.
"You're done already?"
"Yeah," he says before coming closer and nod at him to scoot forward; then he sits behind him, surrounds his middle with his arms and pulls him closer until Gihun is leaning against his chest, resting his chin on his marked shoulder.
"It's almost 4 am," Gihun points out, his fingers grazing on the other's knees, "It's useless to go to sleep now."
"We will go to bed earlier then," Junho says, holding him tight.
Gihun huffs: "If it's like the other nights."
"I don't hear you complain."
"I can barely walk."
Junho hums, satisfied: "Good."
Gihun splashes his face with some water, smiling when he hears the other laugh. Then he relaxes again, lulled by the embrace and the warm water, Junho leaving small kisses on his skin. Thinking is hard, so he decides that for now he won't think. He will just... Live. For now, at least.
Someday he and Junho will have to talk about this. Someday. Not now, though. Someday, someday it's good enough.
Outside the rain has stopped.