I'm Home

Slow, quiet breathing, and the quiet ticking of the clock in the other room; these were the sounds that filled both Minho and Jinki's ears. It was late, Jinki hadn't even gotten home from work until nearly midnight; exhausted beyond belief, and incredibly frustrated. He'd been practicing the choreography for a song on his upcoming album, and there was a part that he could not get for the life of him. He'd spent hours the past couple of days practicing, and practicing, and practicing again, only to be met with the same failure at the same part. Every. Single. Time. To say he was feeling incredibly frustrated at himself, and even insecure in his own abilities would be an understatement. Why couldn't he get this right? It shouldn't be that hard. Was he just really getting that old? Despite only being 31, he certainly felt old. When he had gotten home, Minho immediately knew something was up, despite attempted reassurance that he was "just tired". He'd known him and lived with him for nearly half his life; he had grown to be able to see right through him, no matter how hard Jinki would try to hide some things. He'd gently guided Jinki towards their bed, and watched with growing concern as Jinki got ready for bed in complete silence. Jinki slipped under the bedsheets and laid his head on Minho's chest, still not uttering a word. They laid there in silence for what seemed like hours, with Jinki's head spiraling with how to even begin to verbalize how he was feeling in a way that didn't seem childish, and Minho simply laid there and held him. Finally, Minho asked the question that had been screaming in his mind since the moment Jinki had walked through the door: "What happened?". Silence. After a few moments, Jinki finally opened his mouth to try to explain, to try and receive some sort of reassurance; but instead of words, the only thing that escaped his mouth was a quiet sob as the tears he'd been holding back the past few days finally broke through his valiant defenses. Through tears, he explained it all, explained what was happening, why he was so upset, the thoughts circulating through his mind, all of it. All the while Minho simply held him tighter, the fingers of one hand laced through Jinki's hair, and the other rubbing soothing circles across Jinki's tired back. When Jinki had finished explaining it all, Minho brushed back his bangs to reveal the top of his forehead and placed a gentle, lingering kiss. He knew Jinki didn't really truly believe those things about himself, that he was just tired and frustrated. Jinki knew this as well, in fact, he hadn't even explained in order to hear what Minho had to say. He'd simply wanted to be understood and to be held. To lose himself in the sound of his lover's heartbeat, with his cheek pressed against his chest. To feel the warm hand rubbing soothing circles along his sore muscles. To feel the tender kisses left on his forehead, his brow, his knuckles; to feel his soft lips placed gently against his own, in the kind of kiss that speaks like words themselves. It was late. They both knew that. They would be tired in the morning, but neither cared. Right now, both men were happy to simply exist together. Sharing each other's warmth and comfort in the quiet of their apartment. Eventually, soft snores filled the room as Minho succumbed to sleep. He'd stayed up late waiting for Jinki to get home, and had tried his best to stay awake as long as he could with him too. At that moment, staring up at the face of the love of his life, Jinki's heart felt full. The sting of the earlier day was dulled; still present, but more of a background haze. Instead, he felt full of love. Full of thankfulness for the man he was with, and blessed he'd loved him in return. Jinki's eyes felt heavy as he slowly felt sleep finally taking its hold on him. He sleepily pressed one last kiss to Minho's bare chest, and whispered one last thing before succumbing to the pull of sleep. "Thank you".