Tired Lines; Soonhoon

19

☽

10:13 pm.

Jihoon isn't entirely sure what to do with his newfound information. Soonyoung talks about him, Soonyoung talks about them - it sort of makes him dizzy, in the most wonderful, nauseating way possible.

He sticks to the group for a little while, drinking in their conversation (and a few more beers, while he's at it) and feeling his shoulders drop as the tension melts little by little. They're funny, amicable beyond belief - and Jihoon can't help thinking that while he's spent most of his days cooped up at home or in class, Mingyu has been socializing with these people. He's not sure why, he'd just always assumed Mingyu's friends were the types he wouldn't click with. They seem to like him too, much to his delight.

It has to end at some point, though, and that point comes with Soonyoung's grin close to his ear and a shudder shocking his spine.

"Can we get away for a bit? I want to show you something."

And Jihoon agrees, of course, because this is Soonyoung - with stardust woven into the fibers of his skin and a heart the size of Jupiter. Jihoon would be the biggest moron alive if he didn't allow the boy to drag him upstairs, slender fingers wrapped around his wrist. 

On the way up, the atmosphere grows quieter. Jihoon can still hear it, the surrounding conversations overlapping with each other, twining. He can feel the music pump blood through his veins. He can feel Soonyoung's touch on his skin, prickling. His mouth is dry; he downs what's left in his cup. He might be a little tipsy. 

"No one else really knows how to get up here," Soonyoung says. "Seungkwan's only ever mentioned it once - but I remember."

On the second floor, Jihoon lets Soonyoung lead him through the different rooms, catching glimpses of the lives around them; a young couple in love, another one fighting, two girls who are clearly drunk and an ambiguous figure shadowed in one corner; an emotional mess spilled out onto every floor he crosses. They're a part of that, he thinks, that emotional mess.

They reach a small balcony, and Soonyoung pulls him out onto it so that they're both so close, so unbelievably close; his eyes are level with a pair of lips, sugary pink and probably just as sweet. Probably. He could try, he thinks, and figure it out for himself - but before he has the chance to do anything he might regret, Soonyoung's stepping away and turning to face the wall to their right. Hanging against it is a ladder Jihoon assumes to be for emergency exits, long enough to reach both the roof and the ground below them.

"You can climb this, right?"

"Ye-Yeah? I think?"

"Here, hold on - " he reaches out again, grabbing Jihoon's hand this time, rather than his wrist, and locking their fingers " - follow me, okay? Try not to slip."

And it isn't difficult, really. It's a ladder. Jihoon, even with a few drinks in him, knows how to climb a ladder. That does not, however, mean he minds the way Soonyoung's hand feels in his. He really doesn't.

On the roof, Soonyoung doesn't let go. He moves to lay down, pulling Jihoon beside him, and they stay like that. It's quiet, quiet, quiet - save for the pounding in his chest, so loud Jihoon can hear it thumping in his temples.

"You can't really see the stars out here," Soonyoung says. His voice is like a blanket, a light one - soft and homely. He continues, "There's too much air pollution. But that's okay. We don't need them."

We.

Jihoon likes the way the word sounds on Soonyoung's tongue.

Oh, his thoughts are swimming. He's not used to drinking anything more than a glass of wine or two on special occasions. Oh, oh dear.