Love Me Stage Left; Soonhoon

04

31 DECEMBER

IN THE MORNING, Jihoon wakes up early, when the sun is just starting to show through the windows and Soonyoung is still sleeping. It's terribly early, considering how late they went to bed, but once his eyes are open he can't go back to sleep; he's painfully aware of how close he and Soonyoung are, how the latter, in his drunken, sleepy state, had tossed an arm over Jihoon sometime in the night and is now holding him in a loose grip. It's comfortable and warm. It feels like a soft, safe place for both of them to be.

He's vaguely aware of his phone buzzing repeatedly through his haze of sleep, Soonyoung-centered thoughts, and when he finally picks it up he finds a storm of messages all from his mother.

"Shit," he mumbles to himself. He forgot to text her last night.

Between freaking out because I know you're probably at Soonyoung's but what about the 0.02 chance you got kidnapped on your walk home and Jihoon you better text me back ASAP, his mom is telling him he has to be home by dinner, because it's New Year's Eve and That's for family, if you still remember us.

Jihoon groans inwardly. He forgot tonight was New Year's Eve. That, plus the intensely passive-aggressive nature of those messages, is enough to give him a headache. And speaking of headaches ...

He glances back at the boy beside him. Soonyoung is snoring lightly, and every now and then his fingers curl in his palm gently; Jihoon can see the slight, worried outline of a knot between his brows, illuminated under the sunlight and tempting Jihoon to smooth it out with his fingers.

Jihoon thinks he could stay there forever, but the image of Soonyoung waking up hungover and headachey has him crawling out of bed to make breakfast. He knows where the medicine cabinet is and grabs an aspirin and a glass of water to lay on the bedside table for when the boy wakes up. He also remembers to shoot his mom a brief text to say yes, he's alive, and I plan on being back way before dinner. Her response is surprisingly crass for someone who's supposed to be his loving, sensitive caregiver: Hmm. We'll see about that. Jihoon decides to ignore it and focus on making breakfast.

It's so easy, actually, to care for someone like this. To leave an aspirin, to turn on the stove and start the coffee brewer, not even for himself. Jihoon wants to give Soonyoung his heart and every comfort in the world. He wants to give him the love that he makes him feel inside. It never feels like work.

Ugh. He makes a face to himself – it's too early to be thinking like this.

An hour later, Soonyoung comes into the kitchen, looking groggy and unsteady on his feet. Jihoon smirks at him from over the stove. "Good morning. You look horrible."

"Shut up. Are you frying bacon or something?" he murmurs, hobbling over to a seat at the counter.

"Eggs."

"That sound is awful. It's like you cracked the egg in my head, except the egg is my brain and it's being fried inside my skull."

Jihoon hums. "That's nice. Hold up, I'm almost done." He passes Soonyoung his coffee before sliding two eggs, sunny side up, onto a plate and passing it over to him as well.

"Aren't you having some?" Soonyoung asks when Jihoon puts the pan in the sink.

"Nah. Not hungry. Go ahead, I'll have my coffee."

"Hmph," Soonyoung looks at him, shoving eggs into his mouth. "You're always hungry. What's up?" Jihoon shrugs.

"Nothing. Really," he adds when Soonyoung raises an eyebrow at him, "nothing. Just not feeling it."