klausaberwarita

𝙢𝙚𝙜𝙖.

wooyoung kira, malam akan berhenti pada pukul sembilan; sebab hongjoong telah menyelinap ke dalam kamar mereka, bahkan ketika dentang jam pukul delapan belum selesai menggema. dia menduga pria itu kelelahan, menilik dari aktivitas yang membebani mereka seharian. adalah hal yang lumrah, untuk budak korporat semacam mereka.

maka, setelah merampungkan sesi terakhir merendam pakaian, dia pula menyeret langkah. membawanya tanpa suara, menuju suaka aman berdaun pintu kayu jati berukiran angsa. menyembulkan kepala dari sela-sela, dilihatnya hongjoong sudah terbungkus selimut rapat-rapat. disesaki oleh rasa sayang, wooyoung tertawa.

langit busan, tidak terlalu mudah diajak berkawan; bermega-mega dengan muatan gelapnya kelabu, mengelilingi kota. dia menaksir hujan akan tiba kurang dari satu jam lagi. maka, lekas dia matikan lampu penerang kamar, dan menelusupkan diri di sisi pusat semesta. hongjoong berdengung, dan memeluknya dekat. pria itu, rupanya tak benar-benar terlelap.

“hei,”

hongjoong menghelakan napas berat keluar, lantas memilih untuk menyembunyikan wajah pada muka kulit lehernya. hembusan napas yang menerpa, hadirkan gelitik pada isi perutnya.

“hyeong,”

“mm,”

“kau oke?”

basa-basi semata, benar. sebab bahkan tanpa afirmasi verbal, wooyoung tetap dapat 𝘮𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘢. bahwa ada yang tak baik-baik saja dari yang lebih tua. satu jemarinya, berlari menyingkirkan anak rambut dari dahi hongjoong.

hongjoong membuka mata, lantas kembali gelontorkan napasnya keluar. wooyoung memilih untuk berguling dalam kungkung lengan, dan menatap lekat-lekat hongjoong dari dekat.

“bukan apa-apa.”

dia tidak percaya, namun tak memaksa. diusapnya sayang pipi si pemarga kim, sebelum dia hujani dengan kecup-kecup berisik. “mhm.”

ada jeda tercipta sementara. dipenuhi oleh hening yang disisipi banyak kegelisahan. hongjoong, mengerucutkan bibirnya. dia mengalah setelah kerut-merut pada dahinya tertukik kian dalam.

“besok evaluasi kerja.”

“ah,”

“aku tahu kau akan mulai berceramah. bahwa aku sudah melakukan yang terbaik, dan tidak semestinya aku berpusing-pusing.”

wooyoung tidak berkomentar.

“tetapi, wooyoung―pekan lalu aku mengacau. aku tidak yakin aku akan baik-baik saja.”

“kau akan baik-baik saja,” wooyoung beringsut jauh lebih dekat; mengikis jarak, hingga mudah untuknya menjangkau bibir hongjoong dalam satu kecup singkat.

“wooyoung,”

“percaya padaku.”

“tetapi―”

“hyeong,” dia memotong cepat. melenyapkan argumen bodoh yang bakal hongjoong keluarkan. “besok sore, akan kupanggangkan pai lemon kesukaanmu.”

“wooyoung.”

kali ini, dia tak lekas menjawab, lebih memilih untuk memandang dengan satu senyum tergurat. dia, pula tautkan jemari mereka dan menyimpannya dekat dengan dada. barangkali, degupnya mampu tawarkan hangat di tengah hujan yang mulai mendera kota.

“hyeong, bahkan kalau besok kau ternyata tidak baik-baik saja, kau tidak perlu khawatir.”

“yeah?”

“ada aku.”

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 7.39 pm.

𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙤𝙣.

“kiss me,” wooyoung demands impatiently.

jongho snickers, and resumes his holy work; worshipping his boyfriend's pretty thighs in peace. it's been half an hour of him marking wooyoung mercilessly there. specific in one place only, just because he want, and just because he can. and he has no plan to stop it anytime soon. he's a mean little shit like that.

he knows how it drives wooyoung insane. he knows it so well; the way he brings heaven so close, and yet so far for wooyoung to grasp in his hands. it's a little infuriating on wooyoung's end. and yet, he makes no move to stop. choosing to have another fresh mark blooms across his personal canvas.

“jongho,” wooyoung lets out a soft moan that echoes prettily in their bedroom.

jongho hums against his pretty skin. because his mouth's a little busy working. wooyoung whines, and jongho basks in the sound he lets out. it spurs him on. it encourages him to keep going.

and wooyoung, is 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 close to lose his shit.

“please,” he says pitifully. “jongho, please―”

that, gains the younger's attention. eyes gazing upwards, to the flush that adores wooyoung's cheeks, to the sweats that gathers across his boyfriend's glistening neck. wooyoung's so pretty, and it would be a total crime if he doesn't praise him enough through never ending wet kisses.

so, he hums again.

and wooyoung cries.

“please―”

jongho giggles against the back of wooyoung's knee. “finally deciding it's the time to beg nicely, kitten?”

“fuck,” wooyoung gasps. “please, baby―”

jongho dives in.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 8.02 pm.

𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙬𝙚 𝙠𝙣𝙤𝙬.

“tired, yes?”

for a moment, you really have nothing to give in return; simply lets your gaze wander around. from the pretty color of hongjoong's hair, to the way your hyeong sigh into his open palm.

you both decided to have a little getaway outta the town, and tonight is the first day you ever stepped into this little village. secluded, just the way you like it to be. away from the loud blaring sounds, cornering your clouded mind into insanity.

you simply smiles, and takes his hand in yours. you squeezes a little, and he squeezes back.

“yeah,” you finds yourself answering. eyes no longer glued towards his little head. instead, they are focusing onto his shoes, and the dots of dirt littering around; a proof of how long the journey you both had to get here.

“we have the time.”

at that one, your smile grows wider; feeling the lightning of excitement strikes onto your back. you tugs on his hand, and leads him inside. into the safety cocoon called home.

“we have the time.” you echoes back, and stumbles when he has you pressed against the wall; just behind the cottage's door, right after he stepped in.

“wooyoung,” he warns, and you feels your cheeks heats up. hongjoong laughs, and plants a soft peck onto your nose. “we have the time.”

it sounds like a promise, and you finds yourself loving the weight of it in your mind.

“okay,” you whispers, and prepares yourself to drown in the intensity of his burning eyes. because hongjoong's love always engulf you in the sense of getting stripped naked and vulnerable.

and yet, 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵.

hongjoong dives in, and―𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩, you thinks slowly as you welcomes his lips in a searing kiss. 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦.

for him to map out your skin like a skillful adventurer he is, and for you to hold onto his hand like a lifeline. all comfortable and nice; hidden away behind the safety bubble called anchor.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 1.07 pm.

𝙖 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨, 𝙤𝙧 𝙩𝙬𝙤.

“do you want a kiss?”

wooyoung grins. “no,” he says after seconds of contemplating.

hongjoong's face falls; he thinks he read this wrong, and prepares to take a step back. “oh,” he winces at the tone he manages to let out. it's laced with too much regret, and the fear of getting rejected.

but, wooyoung simply shakes his head, and catches hongjoong's wrist in his hold. the boy leans in and hongjoong briefly thinks about how wooyoung really has zero sense in personal space.

“hyeong,”

hongjoong feels a shiver runs down his spine. 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥, his mind tells him. and 𝘯𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵, he answers it back. because wooyoung's lips are so close, and yet feels so far within the shell of his ear.

“yeah?”

“i want two.”

“what?” hongjoong pauses, and leans away. his eyes are searching, and when he only meets with genuine smile wooyoung throws for him, he relaxes a little. relief, washes away his worries out of his system for good.

this little shit is gonna be the death of him. someday, maybe.

“two, huh.” he says. this time, more confidently. because he's no longer scared. “i can give you five more.”

wooyoung laughs.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 3.39 pm.

𝙚𝙡𝙚𝙥𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙩.

“can you stop talking.”

hongjoong is so unimpressed it 𝘢𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 make wooyoung give up. note the almost. because the younger choose to giggle instead, and it infuriates hongjoong even more. because kid does not stop talking, and it's been half an hour since the second youngest of the group start reciting about why an elephant sperm need a long journey to be able to meet the egg.

honestly, who even want to know that? jung wooyoung, apparently.

“why,” wooyoung demands. “i thought you like it when i talk?”

hongjoong stares him down from where he seated in between wooyoung's legs; two fingers deep inside the boy. all ready to burst his kneecaps in one go.

hongjoong is not amused.

“not when i'm trying to get my dick inside.”

wooyoung smiles and clenches down.

hongjoong curses.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 1.57 pm.

𝙤𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚.

to say he had a bad day, then that would be so understandable; for he had suffering long enough at work, up to the point he feels so drained and about to collapse to the ground. because sometimes, even the sweetest sunshine jeong yunho, can get all grumpy and full of grudges over inconvenience that happened through his day.

but he is a patient man, and thorough all of his patience, he still finds himself leaning against his apartment's door after he barged in quietly; gaze falling softly upon the tiny figure sitting on his―their, he suppose―kitchen. jung wooyoung, has his head placed on top of his folded arms, as he snores away cutely.

a tiny bit of his fatigue, gets lifted up magically. solely by staring at the way his boyfriend's cheek gets squished against his own arm. so, he pads over. shrugging off his oversized jacket, and casually drapes it all over the boy's small shoulders. he smiles fondly at the way wooyoung's eyes flutters open upon feeling his presence.

“hey,” yunho whispers, too scared to wake the baby up even further, even though wooyoung is already half awake.

and wooyoung, whispers back with a tiny grin. “hey.”

yunho's breath hitches at the sight; wooyoung rubbing the corner of his eyes out of sleepiness using his fists. the boy is pouting now, and frowning. yunho has to hold his urge to smoother wooyoung under his weight. his boyfriend wouldn't like that, anyway. so, he chooses the safest option, to plant a soft kiss on top of his fluffy head.

“i made you dinner.” wooyoung mumbles.

his eyes shifts towards the table, and for the first time since he barged into the house, he notices a bowl of chicken soup and realizes just how hungry―and possibly angry―he is. he decides he's hungry enough for now, though. his lips, curls up in a soft grateful smile, and takes his place on the chair just beside the boy.

“thank you, sugar.”

wooyoung only gives him a soft nod at that. yunho does not mind the lack of verbal response. for he knows how quiet wooyoung can be when he's all sleepy―all cute and soft for him to hold in his arms later. so, he starts to dig into his dinner instead; marvelling at how good it taste when it greets his tongue.

“why weren't you in bed already?”

wooyoung hums. “obviously because i missed you, big bear.”

“your neck could get hurt, sugar.”

wooyoung shakes his head, and casually lingers his fingers around yunho's left wrist. “wouldn't want you to see no one when you get home.”

home.

yunho blinks, and the soup is suddenly no longer have his full attention. he lifts his head, and meets with wooyoung's gaze; all soft and so full of shining stars he thinks he does not need to glance up at the sky today. heart feels so full, and his stomach too, despite the butterflies that seems to not know which good time they should be flying around inside.

often, he wonders. just how easy it is for his boyfriend to make him feel okay again.

“i love you,” he says softly; out of the need to get his heart to stop jumping around inside his chest, and out of the urge to let wooyoung know just how much the boy means in his life.

and wooyoung just stays there; fingers tightens around his wrist briefly, as his face breaks into this adorable smile he madly fell in love with years ago.

“you're such a sap.”

yunho shrugs. he doesn't really need to hear; for he only have to take a look at his pretty orbs to know just how much wooyoung does love him back. it's a lot.

“only for you.” he pouts.

“right,” wooyoung laughs. the boy is tugging at his wrist, and yunho let him be. “let's go sleep after this?”

yunho stares at the way his sweetheart beams, and agrees right away. “sleep, it is.”

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 1.34 pm.

𝙗𝙪𝙩𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙡𝙮.

“alright,” wooyoung says kindly. “scoot over.”

jongho lets out a soft whine upon hearing the command; for his forehead still throbs pitifully after an accidental kiss with their bedroom door. he had been so smug and proud, flexing his bulky arms, and did the move he learnt at the dojo. then, proceeded to lose his balance, and the rest is history.

wooyoung, is not amused.

“i told you.” this time, jongho flinches. because wooyoung applies a not so kind pressure over his hurting arm. the boy has been helping him to numb the pain with a pack of ice. “to be careful. why you never listen to me.”

“it's not my fault the door was standing on my way.”

“the door has been standing there since the first time we moved in here, dumbass.”

“i know. i just like to blame anything but myself.”

wooyoung pauses, and smacks his thigh. he pouts, and earns himself an apology in the form of wet smooch on his jaw.

“i swear to god,” wooyoung mutters with a tiny bit of fondness laced there. “what should i do with you.”

“kiss my forehead, i hope?”

wooyoung says nothing. but he does lean forward, and leaves a soft peck onto the younger's nose. the way jongho beams, should be able to put the sun at shame. he brightens instantly over the small affection wooyoung share.

“now stay still and let me ice your arm in peace. you are such a little shit sometimes.”

“your little shit.” jongho corrects him gleefully. “and you love me.”

“unfortunately,” wooyoung nods. “i do.”

at that, jongho smiles smugly. his heart swells with so much love he kind of want to rain the smaller boy's face with sweet kisses. he decides he will do that later.

maybe.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 1.31 pm.

𝙡𝙚𝙢𝙤𝙣.

in this boat full of flowers, sometimes you wonder; about the thorns, about the sweet scent of the beauty in your hands. and you couldn't decide which one is your favorite. the tears that keeps you writhing under the sky? or the blooming petals that helps you stay floating above the stars?

if this is love, then you would likely go back to where you first met the enigma of your life; to take a step back, to run and hide.

if this is love, then why it 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 you so much?

and if this is love, then why couldn't you get out and fly away towards the sun?

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 11.47 am.

𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙠 𝙠𝙪𝙘𝙞𝙣𝙜.

“kira-kira,” hongjoong berdeham dan melambaikan tangan. maksudnya jelas; hendak menggapai atensi wooyoung kembali padanya. hasilnya? tak terlalu bisa dikatakan berhasil. tetapi anak itu memperdengarkan dengung ringan sebagai tanda. dan itu, sudah lebih dari cukup.

hongjoong menatap helai-helai anak rambut yang mencuat membelai kulit pipinya. dia, tak diragukan lagi telah mencapai batasnya. “kapan kau akan pergi 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘨𝘢𝘵 dari dadaku?”

wooyoung―demi tuhan!―anak itu tertawa, lantas membenamkan wajahnya lebih jauh. lebih 𝘥𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘮. hingga dia merasa tulang rusuknya telah melepuh dan membiarkan entitas baru bermarga jung merasuk dan bersemayam di dalamnya. dia merasa semesta sedang ingin mempermainkan kesabarannya hari ini.

“mungkin tahun depan.” wooyoung menyeru. nada suaranya terdengar kelewat riang, dan hongjoong mengerutkan kening. terperangkap di antara sofa dan wooyoung, kadang-kadang bukanlah sesuatu yang dia idam-idamkan. hatinya, terasa sesak penuh-penuh, dan dia seringkali tidak tahu harus berkomentar apa. maka, sama seperti pada hari-hari lainnya, dia memilih menelan kembali baris kata-katanya, dan membiarkan jemarinya tenggelam di antara helai-helai rambut yang lebih muda; memijat kulit kepalanya sekaligus.

“kalau aku tidak begini,” wooyoung memulai setelah bermenit waktu dilalui dalam hening yang―hongjoong benci mengakuinya―begitu nyaman. “hyeong bakal pergi lagi.”

𝘢𝘩.

“keharusan.” katanya lugas. sebab berpisah jarak meski hanya sebentar, memang menyebalkan untuk dirasakan.

wooyoung―bayi besarnya yang berisik namun menggemaskan―mengerang, lantas menusuk sisi pinggangnya dengan jari telunjuk. tidak sakit memang, tetapi demi penghiburan semata, dia terlonjak tidak berdaya. satu senyum yang mekar di sudut bibir wooyoung, adalah bayaran yang setimpal rupanya.

“baik, baik,” hongjoong menukas merasa kalah. ditariknya si pemarga jung lebih dekat dengan dadanya; tempat di mana dia kira jantungnya sudah berubah fungsi. alih-alih berdetak untuknya, organ itu berdegup dan berpacu demi bocah yang terperangkap di dalam kungkungan lengan. menggelikan, seonghwa mencibir dari memori kepalanya.

sebab, 𝘩𝘢! hongjoong telah membiarkan dirinya tenggelam dalam, dan yang mengejutkan―seonghwa mengatainya budak cinta dengan sangat tidak berperikemanusiaan―dia merasa oke saja dengan semua ini.

“tidur lagi?”

“lima belas menit.”

jengkel, wooyoung menggigit dadanya. kali ini, betulan terasa sakit. meski demikian, yang lolos dari mulutnya hanya serangkai tawa yang menular; sebab wooyoung juga terkikik-kikik di atas ulu hatinya.

“kenapa, ya?” hongjoong menunduk, dan menghadiahi satu kecup ringan pada puncak kepala wooyoung. tampaknya memang tidak ada gunanya menyingkirkan anak keras kepala yang satu ini. jadi, dia memilih untuk menyamankan diri guna menyongsong sore dengan berleha-leha. “kau seperti anak kucing.”

“... nyan?”

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 11.59 pm.

𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙖𝙩 𝙗𝙚𝙧𝙪𝙡𝙖𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙖𝙝𝙪𝙣, 𝙨𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙩𝙖 𝙟𝙚𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙖 𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙞 𝙨𝙖𝙣.

termangu, kamu duduk di depan meja; beralaskan kain beludru berwarna ungu, semata karena kamu tahu 𝘥𝘪𝘢 menyukainya. terbentang sepanjang ekor matamu mengikuti, ialah berpiring-piring hidangan perayaan. khusus kamu siapkan, karena menjelang tengah malam, 𝘥𝘪𝘢 akan menyambut hari𝘯𝘺𝘢.

ini tetap hari istimewa, bahkan meski pemiliknya sedang tidak bersamamu. lamat, kamu pandang-pandang noda kehitaman pada muka dinding, lantas mengerjapkan mata. jam dinding berdetak-detak, dan kamu menghitung setiap detiknya. menanti, sebab tahu pasti di balik pintu dekat denganmu, 𝘥𝘪𝘢 juga sedang begitu.

“apakah kau gugup?”

tidak ada jawaban, dan kamu memakluminya. barangkali 𝘥𝘪𝘢 sedang berbaring tenang, di samping semangkuk puding yang kamu selundupkan sebelum petang.

“sedikit.”

kerut-merut, terusir jauh dari dahimu. kamu, tertawa kecil. sebab suara𝘯𝘺𝘢 terdengar tenang, dan lubuk hatimu meluruh nyaman. satu hela napas panjang, kamu keluarkan. kebetulan, bersamaan dengan dentang berisik jam.

“selamat berulang tahun,” kamu berdeham, lantas menggaruk pipi.

𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯 berdengung, barangkali sedang mengangguk-angguk di tengah kumpulan boneka-boneka. menggemaskan; seandainya bisa kamu saksikan dekat, dengan bonus kecup pada puncak kepala juga. tetapi, kamu tahu yang satu itu baiknya tidak diimpikan dulu.

“wooyoung,” kamu mendengarnya jelas, dan jantungmu memutuskan untuk memacu diri seakan hari esok tak akan ada lagi. “terima kasih.”

mungkin untuk semangkuk puding, kamu menduga. tersipu, kamu duduk dengan kaki-kaki yang tidak diam di tempat.

“cuma puding.”

“bukan,”

sekarang, rasa penasaran menghinggapi kepalamu juga. “apa?”

ada jeda yang tercipta, dan kamu menunggu dengan satu tarikan napas tertahan di dalam dada. dinding yang memisahkan kamu dan 𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘪 𝘴𝘢𝘯, tidak pernah sekalipun kamu memiliki keinginan untuk menghancurkannya sebelum hari ini.

“segalanya.”

diterpa gelombang kelegaan, kamu mengulum senyum dan menunduk dengan dada berdentum-dentum.

𝙠𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙨𝙖, 10.19 pm.