The Deep End

Stay.

The days that followed were an emotional whirlwind for Leehan. Each time he saw Taesan, the air between them seemed charged, heavy with something unsaid, something that neither of them was ready to face head-on. Taesan had kept his distance, respectful of Leehan's need for space, but his quiet gestures, the subtle glances, the occasional brush of his hand—every interaction seemed to be pushing them closer to something neither of them could avoid forever.

It wasn't until they ended up in the library late one night again, working on a joint project, that everything finally came to a head.

Leehan had been furiously typing away at his laptop, his eyes glued to the screen, when he felt Taesan's presence beside him, his shadow falling across the desk.

"You're really going to work yourself into the ground, huh?" Taesan's voice was soft, almost too soft, and when Leehan looked up, he saw the familiar look in Taesan's eyes—the one that made his heart beat a little faster, the one that always made him feel both frustrated and... oddly comforted.

Leehan blinked, pushing his glasses up on his nose in an attempt to avoid eye contact. "I have to get this done."

"I get that," Taesan said, leaning against the desk, his proximity making it impossible for Leehan to concentrate. "But you need to take a break. You look like you're about to pass out."

Leehan scoffed, though it was more out of nervousness than irritation. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Leehan," Taesan's voice was softer now, quieter, the teasing edge gone. "You can only run on empty for so long."

For a brief moment, Leehan's gaze met Taesan's, and he saw the sincerity there. Taesan wasn't trying to get under his skin this time. He wasn't teasing or pushing; he was just... concerned.

"Do you ever stop?" Leehan muttered, mostly to himself, but the words slipped out before he could catch them.

Taesan smiled softly. "Not really. But I've learned to stop when it matters."

Leehan frowned. "And when does it matter?"

"When I see someone I care about running themselves ragged," Taesan answered quietly, his voice filled with something Leehan couldn't quite place. Something raw.

Leehan's breath hitched. His heart skipped a beat at the unspoken weight of those words. "What are you saying, Taesan?"

Taesan didn't answer immediately. Instead, he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming but comforting all the same. His hand found Leehan's, gently brushing his fingers against his palm, an action so small, yet it felt like a tidal wave crashing against all the defenses Leehan had spent so long building.

"I'm saying that maybe you don't need to carry all of this on your own," Taesan whispered, his gaze never leaving Leehan's. "Maybe you don't have to keep pretending you don't feel anything when you're around me."

The words hit Leehan like a punch to the gut. His chest tightened, and he pulled his hand away from Taesan's instinctively, shaking his head. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Taesan didn't move, didn't retreat. Instead, he took another step closer, his voice a gentle challenge. "You do. You just don't want to admit it."

Leehan's pulse raced in his ears, the silence between them thick with tension. It felt like everything was about to come crashing down—the walls, the defenses, the doubts. And for the first time, Leehan didn't want to hold them up anymore.

"I don't... I don't know what I'm feeling," Leehan whispered, his voice trembling slightly. "One minute, I hate you for everything you've done. The next, I—" He cut himself off, unable to finish the sentence. The words felt too dangerous to say, too vulnerable.

Taesan's gaze softened, and he stepped forward again, closing the remaining space between them. "You don't have to figure it all out at once. But if you need time, I'll give it to you. No pressure. But don't push me away just because you're scared, Leehan."

"I'm not scared," Leehan lied, the words feeling foreign on his tongue. He knew it wasn't true. He was scared of what it would mean to open up to Taesan, to let someone in, to finally acknowledge the feelings he'd buried so deeply.

"Yeah, you are," Taesan murmured, his thumb brushing against Leehan's knuckles in a gentle, soothing motion. "And that's okay. I'll wait. Whenever you're ready."

Leehan swallowed hard, trying to steady his breath. He wanted to pull away, to push Taesan out of his life again. But something in Taesan's eyes, in the way he was holding him, made it impossible. Instead, he allowed the quiet weight of the moment to settle around them, the space between them no longer feeling like a barrier, but a fragile thread waiting to be crossed.

"I don't know what's happening between us," Leehan said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I don't want you to go.Can you stay?"

The words were simple, yet they carried so much weight. They were an admission, a plea. And when Taesan's smile appeared—small, but genuine—Leehan felt his chest tighten with something that felt like relief.

"I'm not going anywhere, Leehan," Taesan replied softly. "Not unless you want me to."

And for the first time in a long time, Leehan found himself not wanting to push him away.