when it blooms | yunsan

Chapter 9

Yunho is thankful for Jongho.

Not only does he work efficiently and is more than helpful, he allows Yunho to go off to San whenever heaven decides to hold a disco. He in fact pushes him to.

San has grown to leave his door unlocked when he gets a text from Yunho saying he's coming. Although Yunho thinks that is somewhat insecure, he doesn't want to trouble San to get the door and asking for a spare key is definitely crossing the line.

As he enters the dark apartment, he looks over the couch and when he doesn't find a cocoon of blanket there, he undoubtedly walks in San's bedroom. There he is. All curled on his bed.

"San," Yunho's voice is soft, gently placing his hand on the blanket ball.

The ball fidgets, and a fluff of blonde pops out before Yunho can see a weakened brown eyes looking at him expectantly. The sight drops his guard down instantly, igniting his need to protect this being, as it has always been the case. The smaller person looks far more small curling in a ball, wrapping himself with a soft blanket. A small hand timidly reaches out to Yunho's wrist, and that is enough to let Yunho know what he wants. He soon finds himself on bed, his arm lightly placed on the cocoon, until San grants him a share of the blanket. He naturally slips in, holding the shaking man in his arms.

San is warm. The logical explanation would be that he had been wrapped in a blanket and while somewhere behind Yunho's brain he hears it, it's not what he focuses on. He's more entranced by the warmth that permeates through his skin without losing it's way to his heart. It's what he feels holding San. Warmth, like it's his home, and while he is supposedly the one trying to comfort the other, he feels safe, like he belongs here.

"Thank you, Yunho."

His return home ends sooner than he expects, which seems to be the case all the time. The signal is when the loud noise diminishes to null, and he feels a pat on his chest together with a word of gratitude. Yunho feels this 'thank you' has always carried a sense of dejection. Or maybe it's just the feeling of emptiness he feels in his arms. Or maybe both.

It has been a norm for San to pour him a coffee after, a caramel macchiato, a box of instant coffee secured in San's kitchen just for Yunho. Yunho can't ignore the small thrill he feels, having something in San's home that relates to him. Resting on a couch in the living room, Yunho takes a sip. It doesn't roll on his taste bud as deliciously as a professional coffee prepared by the barista Yeosang, but it tastes special.

"Are you feeling better?" Yunho asks San who is sipping on his hot chocolate next to him.

"Yeah, thanks to you," he smiles, and there's no more shaken blonde seen.

"I'm glad," Yunho smiles back, brushing the blonde hair ever so softly.

San freezes, and Yunho quickly draws his hand back, wondering if he has done something wrong.

"I'm sorry," San murmurs. Yunho notices a pink colour creep on his cheeks. "I think I rely on you too much."

"No, you aren't," he denies in a beat. "I'm more than happy to help, as long as you need me."

With blush still residing on his cheeks, San smiles timidly. "Thank you," he whispers against his mug, and this 'thank you' brings warmth to Yunho's heart. And also because San looks endearing with his blossomed cheeks and knees to his chest that Yunho is so close to pulling him in his arms. This probably is wrong, but Yunho finds himself wishing for thunder to come back just for this moment, so that he can have an excuse to embrace San once again.

❀

It's gold. It's also pearl, cherry and rose.

San adorns a hair that changes its colour with the shade of light. It's pretty, Yunho thinks, just like wings on fairies that glisten in colours that are out of the world—not that Yunho has seen it personally, but he imagines it so.

He succumbs to the urge of brushing it through with his fingers, fluffy in touch, of which San blinks in surprise but soon creases his eyes in a sheepish smile. It's endearing in all sorts of ways, and Yunho wouldn't mind watching it all day. Only if the curl of his peach lips doesn't catch his attention more so than his eyes, but it does. They look soft and luscious, and it seems like Yunho has forgotten his rationality somewhere in the gutter because he can't resist his instincts. Primitive, almost, because he gives in to the gravity that pulls him down. Yunho can't exactly pinpoint what San's lips taste like, something like soap and cotton, if that even makes sense, but they are soft and pliable at touch, and his heart blooms with happiness nonetheless at the mere contact. Surprisingly, San doesn't push him away, and instead holds his shirt, timidly but affirmatively. Having the encouragement, Yunho indulges further. Because he hasn't had enough. He can never get enough of San, he is sure.

But he is suffocating. He suddenly feels difficulty in breathing, and no matter how much he tries to draw in air through his nose whilst kissing, he can't.

He pulls away and gasps for air, as he sits up on bed.

"Morning, sunshine!"

Yunho hears a low voice that definitely doesn't belong to San. He turns his head and he recognises his room, and San isn't there but his damned flatmate is. And the said man is holding a pillow in his hand.

"Did you just try to kill me?" Connecting the dots, Yunho growls in a low voice, partially because he just woke up but mostly because he is about to throw hands at Mingi.

"You wouldn't wake up, so I instead decided to wake your surviving instinct," Mingi shrugs, wiggling the pillow in his hand.

Yunho breathes out deeply as reality starts to sink in. The rage only builds with Mingi now wiggling his eyebrow.

"I owe you," Yunho says. "I can only return by doing the same."

He grabs the pillow he was just sleeping on and throws it at Mingi, who scrambles out the door in a blink. The pillow smacks the door because Mingi has winged heels, and perhaps that counts as a surviving instinct. The man with awakened surviving instinct pops his head through the door again to remind Yunho.

"I woke you up because you said you were going to go get your mum. Thank me later!"

Right. Yunho remembers now.

His mother called him the other day to inform she'll be back from her trip today, and he promised her he'll go pick her up at the station. Pick her up, but the only transport he owns is a bicycle, so it's more like helping her out with her luggages while riding a taxi to her home.

He recalls he had set an alarm, but he must have shut it off in his sleep. Nonetheless, he doesn't have much time to ponder, so he gets out of his bed to his closet.

Not until the bus ride does Yunho remember his dream. He gasps rather loudly at the image of him kissing San. Gladly, the monday noon bus is nearly empty. Physical touching within friends is a common thing and Yunho doesn't mind, although he finds someone else initiating more so than himself. Especially Wooyoung, who likes clinging on to people, occasionally sneaking up and kissing people's cheeks playfully. Never has Yunho kissed his friend though, and certainly never even thought of kissing on their lips. He wonders if he has grown a new way of showing appreciation to his friends, to the level of dreaming to kiss them. Mingi's earlier grinning face flashes in his head, and he tries to imagine. Yunho feels something surging from his empty stomach and he has to cover his mouth as a safety precaution. He doesn't want to kiss Mingi. He'd rather kiss a statue.

It's just a weird random dream. That's what dreams are anyway. Weird and random.

But it's also true that Yunho spends his entire ride thinking about what San's lips would taste like. Definitely not soapy and fabric-y.