61:21

"How long have you known?" Brian asks.

"Long enough." Peter responds, instead with a light kiss on Brian's jaw. Brian looks rather frazzled at his response, and it brings up a laugh from Peter. "Is it embarrassing to know your eyes were obvious?"

"Not embarrassing, but... it was my eyes?"

Peter's hand moves up to Brian's face, as his thumbs brush along his forehead, then sliding across his eye lids as if to help them close. He feels Brian's lashes flutter against the skin of his thumb, and instead traces along the outline of his lower lid. "You look at things you love with a certain warmth."

"Well, I've ever been much good at hiding things from anyone."

"That kind of thing comes with time." Peter claims, rolling over to the other side of the bed and now instead sitting on the edge of it. He grabs at the opened pack sitting by the lamp stand, grabbing at one of the cigarettes and looking for the lighter.

Brian gets up too, and instead moves over to the side Peter is on. He wraps his arms around him from behind, resting his head against his shoulder. He kisses at one of the many scars lining his shoulders, then at his neck, making his way up. "Can I kiss you?" Brian asks, just as Peter is about to flick on the lighter. Peter flicks at it a couple more times, as if needing to think about it, only to place both the lighter and the cigarette down back on the stand.

Peter turns around, moving to stand on his knees instead, with Brian in between. The kiss is long, and messy, until Peter breaks it to let them both get a gasp of air.

"Stay, tonight." It's not a request, and more of a command. It's the first time he's asked of it, and it catches Brian off guard. Peter leans in for another kiss, but this time, slower and much more paced. His eyes are closed during it, for the first time.

"Stay here, with me, tonight."

( ii. )

“How long have you known?” Brian asks.

“Long enough.” Peter responds, still somewhat hiding his face in the darker shadows cast in the room corner. Brian wonders what kind of face he’s making right now; half of him is curious enough to want to know and probe and the other half knows it’ll hurt him enough.

“Why didn’t you… say or do anything?”

“I wanted to make a fool of you.” Peter says, quiet bluntly so while stepping out into the light. His face is more so expressionless than Brian has imagined in his head. “I wanted you to think you earned my trust only for me to break yours.”

Brian doesn’t respond for some time. Instead, he’s catching glances at Peter, watching for if his face is changing at all. “Neither of us have the ease to trust anyone, do we?”

“We’re fools for trying.” Peter replies, finally meeting Brian's eyes for the first time during their conversation. He offers a simple smile, which is not much of a smile at all. In the next moment, his face becomes blank again, and he watches as both Peter's jaw and shoulders pull taut again. It's his guard, and the way he's pulling up the walls again, as habit.

"You should have tried harder to hide it, Younghyun." It's the first time Peter is calling him by his real name. "Then I could have tried harder to pretend for longer not to know."

Before he can think of what to say next, Brian has closed in on the space between them. He’s got a hand on Peter’s jaw, which softens its grasp and instead rests on his cheek. Brian waits to do anything else until Peter leans his cheek into his touch, pressing up against his palm. Brian leans in first, as if they’re about to meet their lips. They’re close enough where their breaths touch each other’s skin.

Brian searches for Peter’s eyes, and he finds them. There’s a lot lingering in them, but amongst them all — hurt.

“Can I kiss you?” Brian asks, almost breathily in a request. There’s a sense of urgency about the way he says it, and a sense of hunger.

Peter pulls away instead, making the correct decision on behalf of him. “Leave tonight. You know better than to take anything else with you. I’m… not going to tell you what to report back to them more than you already have made the choice to. And…” His lips stay parted, and Peter takes in a breath through his mouth, as if needing more of it. “…don’t show your face to me ever again. To anyone here.”

“Because the next time I see you, I’m going to have to put a bullet to your head.”

Peter takes the mic from the table.

"..."

If people were close enough, they would be able to see the small tremor of his hand. He looks around at the packed room, feeling nothing but nervousness. He's not sure why -- it's a room full of people he mostly knows, except for the few he doesn't on Brian's guest list. They had decided to keep it small too, for this very reason, and yet, he felt nervous. Nerves, because it was his first time declaring something as bold as loving someone to an entire crowd of people; of people he really cared for.

Peter thinks a least a minute has passed. The room is still just as quiet, but it's so for a reason. All the eyes on Peter are patient, giving him the time that he needs.

"I'm sure some of you know, I'm not... much of a speaker so I'm sorry ahead of time... if I don't make you cry like Brian did during his speech." If Peter wasn't so nervous, he'd be able to hear the laughs given to him.

"Thank you for coming. All of you. I hope the food is okay... and if it isn't, you really have to talk to Brian about because that was the one thing he was in charge of. But uh, I'm sure you all know but I hate beating around the bush with this kind of thing and I don't want to overstay for something like a dinner speech so I'll just say what I tried to practice for the past few weeks. I'm sorry if none of it makes much sense."

There's still a small tremble in both his voice and hands, until he feels the warmth of Brian's palm, pressed right up against the small of his back. He leans into it some what, and takes a deep breath. When he empties his lungs, he feels ready.

"I've never... confessed this to anyone, maybe even to myself till some time ago. For those that know us both, everyone always thinks Brian was the one that had his eyes on me a little longer than he should've when we first met. And I'm not sure why it's taken me this long to tell you this, but."

Peter turns to his side, meeting Brian and Brian's eyes only.

"I've been in love with you a long time before. Even before the first day you think we met at the cafe, when I ordered and americano and you accidentally gave me a latte instead.

I was in love with you almost an entire year before, actually.

It was... strange. I really never believed in love at first sight, and I still don't think I believe in it. May it wasn't love at first sight, but it was special, and unlike anything I could have even tried to dream of experiencing.

I saw you six years ago at Gare du Nord.

You were playing (Place Name of Song) Here, with you and your acoustic guitar. I think it was even a little out of tune."

Somewhere in the room towards the back, Jae laughs.

"I don't know what it is that made my heart sink hearing you sing. Whether it was the fact that you choice one of the busiest, crossroad stations of Paris to sing at, or if it was at how well your voice projected down that long hall as if to reach me and touch me where no one else could at the time... or simply, if it was how happy you looked singing by yourself, doing nothing else but.

I don't know what it was, but I fell in love with you at Gare du Nord that day.

I came back the next day, mindlessly. Before I even realized it, I was purposely retracing my steps from the night before hoping that you'd be at the end of it. And you were. Something about it felt right, when everything else that week had felt out of place.

So I kept coming back.

Commuting through Gare du Nord before you was one of my least favorite experiences in Paris. After a long day of work, I wanted nothing less but to walk through a busy station, full of a sea of tired, lifeless end-of-the-day workers. But after seeing you sing your heart out to anyone that would listen, I came every night, hoping to get to hear you sing. I know for you, it was an open ended song; but for me, it felt like you were singing to me.

For me.

At me.

There were days you weren't there. I know I had no right, but I got a bit upset on those days. The station was full of people, but it still felt empty without your presence filling it. And yet on the days you were back, you were the same as always, never any different and singing your songs again. You were somehow, the only constant variable in my life at the time and I fell in love with you, a man that didn't even know me, that didn't even see me."

Peter pauses, and for quite some time. The guests again, are respectful of it, the silence rather comfortable more than not. Peter grasps at the mic again, more firmly, this time with two hands.

"I like who I’m when I’m with you. You are my day off. I'm free when I'm with you. I have never been more alive than when I’m with you. I am me when I am with you. I like who we are together. Who we will be together."

"Thank you for letting me be yours, and you mine. Brian Fucking Kang, I'm so stupidly in love with you."

"Are you nervous?" Brian asks, as a clear attempt to lighten the mood.

Peter laughs, giving a nod. "Yeah."

Peter's situated on top of Brian's lap, both their shirts thrown somewhere haphazardly on the floor. Neither of them are drunk, but they have the kind of buzz lovers give each other; colored in the kind of red and rut of being in such close proximity of each other.

"Why are you nervous?" Brian brings his face closer, even closer than he's held it before. He searches for Peter's eyes, looking beyond his gaze and really holding it there as if he wants the answer from their exchanged glances, not even from his lips. Peter looks away towards elsewhere until he can't quite run from it, giving into Brian and letting him consume him from the inside out.

"I... I don't know. It... it feels different." Peter mumbles. He breaks their gaze once more, and instead creates a bit of distance between them for a moment.

"Bad different?" Brian asks, his hands now settling at Peter's waist again. His thumbs brush over the exposed bit of his skin, tracing circles along his hip bone, mindlessly. Everything Brian does to him is habitual, without thought and natural. And everything he does makes him cave, bit by bit.

"No, a good different. But still... different."

"Should we wait?" Brian leans back a bit now too, with the same smile on his face that has yet to disappear. He's handing over the choice back to him again. Peter hates the way that Brian looks hone even in this given moment, faultless and just breathtaking.

Peter gives a firm shake of his head, before closing the space between them again. He places their foreheads together, closing his eyes for a moment. In the moment, Brian watches him carefully and again, doing what he does so habitually — reveling in every bit of detail of Peter that only he gets to see from so close. Everything from the little, tiny freckle along the outline of his jaw to the short baby hairs right by his ears.

"I want you." Peter says, making sure he hears it.

"Good." Brian replies.

He immediately presses their lips together again and goes further to meet their tongues together, messily so. It's Peter that has to break it a second time just to breathe, and instead of waiting, Brian slips over to Peter's neck, pressing a bunch of fleeting kisses there. It elicits a certain sigh from Peter — the kind that made Brian a bit more impatient.

Peter's hands start sliding down Brian's chest, then his abdomen, until it settles on his jeans. Even without looking, he helps him unbutton them, tugging down at the zipper. Peter's hand slips in, his palm pressing over Brian's boxers, feeling over him until Brian lets out a grunt.

Brian's arm naturally reaches out for the drawer by the lamp stand next to them, taking out a few condoms and bringing one over to start to rip open.

"Don't... don't take it out." Peter exclaims, taking the packaging from Brian's hands, and placing it back on the counter. Brian, looking a bit baffled watches him, not understanding. "I mean... I mean, I don't... I don't want you to put it on." Peter says, a bit shyly almost. "If that's okay."

Brian's eyes turn from being bewildered to being dazed, and he doesn't respond for a while. This makes Peter anxious instead, wondering if he shouldn't have said anything or given the suggestion. "I mean, I just thought it would be nice to—" Peter doesn't get to finish, as Brian shifts the both of them, with Peter now laying on his back with Brian hovered over him.

Brian positions himself and ever so slowly pushes in, his eyes never leaving Peter's face to take note of his reaction. He feels Peter tensing up beneath him, until he places a palm by his hip bone, caressing the outline of it there. He also places a kiss by his collarbone, tracing it until he feels Peter begin to relax, letting him in more and more.

"Are you okay?" Brian asks, sweet and caring even during this kind of time. It's written in his furrowed brows, full of concern. Brian's kissing him now, and Peter wonders how he could possibly pretend to care about anything and anyone else when he's got his dick deep in him.

"I'm fine." He mumbles, still kissing Brian. Brian chuckles at the way Peter's lovely stubbornness is right up against the corner of his lips. "Just move slowly..." Peter places his hands onto Brian's shoulders, quickly adding, "... please." He's whining a bit now, just extremely needy of Brian, and everything he's not giving him at the moment.

They move a bit off sync to start with, then find a rhythm together, more so guided by Peter. Peter supports himself by using Brian's shoulders still, and Brian's got his hands grasping around Peter's back, with a firm grip.

"Fuck." Peter hisses in French, the one to break first, with a voice starting that's started to shake.

"You know when you curse during sex I get turned on."

"You get turned on when I curse at any time of the day." Peter mutters in between a few groans. Peter pushes a hand into Brian's hair to tug on it a bit from behind, as if to ask him to pay full attention to him again.

"Can you say my name?" Brian asks, in the softest tone. It's a genuine request, as Brian tucks his fingers below Peter's chin to adjust their gazes together.

Peter responds easily, his mouth already open. "Fuck, Brian... Brian, Brian..." He repeats it enough for it to almost becoming a chant and trance-like, until Brian shuts him up with another kiss, both their moans now muffled between each other's lips.

"And can you tell me that—"

"I love you." Peter says clearly and distinctly, already having been ready to answer his question before he asked it. "I love you, Brian." Peter repeats, with even more affirmation, then again, with his lips pressed up against his in yet another kiss.

Peter lifts his head but doesn't bother even trying a smile. "Hey."

"Hey?" Junmyeon doesn't offer a smile either, and it's one of the traits Peter has admired about him, even if they've really only met in person a few times that he could count on one hand.

"Am I allowed to come in?"

"..."

"..."

"Do I have a choice to send you away?"

"Not really."

They both give a half snort before Junmyeon cracks the door open fully and Peter makes his way in. Even if he doesn't see it, he knows Junmyeon's watching him more carefully than he shows, simply at the request of Brian.

Peter would have his eyes all around Junmyeon's house, curious about his interior choices and furnishings -- but he just doesn't have it in him, and definitely not the leisure. He has a hundred thoughts in his head but at the same time, none that he can fully articulate, not even to himself, let alone another person.

"Sorry for barging in." He heads straight to the first chair he sees, placing his luggage by the side before leaning his body's weight against the chair. "I'll leave tomorrow night. I had the choice to just buy a ticket straight back to Paris at the airport when I landed, but they said the first ticket out wasn't direct and I really didn't want to get on a plane with two connecting stops and..."

Peter looks up at this moment, because it's not like of him to be running his mouth so much and he's expected the other to stop his rambling at some point. Instead, Junmyeon's eyes are trained on him, just letting him finish. He wonders why he's given so much patience, when they barely much know each other. It's strange, but he sees the same warmth in Junmyeon that is in Brian, and it's both welcoming and disheartening at once.

"I just need a place to sleep a couple of hours... and the hotels around here are extremely over priced. And... I don't really know the area anyway. I... I don't know. I'm not sure." He feels much unlike himself, making so many excuses.

The raw truth is that he doesn't want to be alone, at least not tonight.

Junmyeon doesn't respond right away. It makes Peter nervous for some odd reason, until Junmyeon comes over to him and makes a motion with his fingers.

"Give me your jacket and go take a shower."

Fall: October.

"May not be my place to ask this, since I know you're not much of a talker... but." He crosses his arms and tilts his head. There's pity spread all across his face, and Peter feels even worse because of it. "You doing alright? Like I said, I don't mean to intrude, but you've been making a lot of small mistakes that's very unlike you, the most detail oriented person I know at this company."

"And beyond your work... you just haven't seemed the same."

Peter grips the laptop at his side a little tighter. He doesn't know why he should have to feel this defensive about his state of being. Right now, in this moment, all he wants to do is exist, and even that seems overbearing and difficult. He felt better compared to a month ago, or at least —

He was mistaking feeling less for feeling better.

"I'm doing okay." He manages to say, adjusting his glasses. "It's just the busy season, I think." There's a bit of silence before Peter realizes he's supposed to say more. "Oh, and I got a cat. Maybe it's the cat." Peter murmurs, his voice starting to crawl into a hole of it's own. He's starting to mumble, and he's hiding his fingers behind his back, fumbling with them. Brian would've told him he was doing the thing, and even now he's still lingering in his thoughts.

"It is the cat. Definitely the cat. I didn't know cats were so much work."

"A cat." His boss says.

"A cat." Peter repeats.

His boss doesn't look convinced at all, but to Peter's thankfulness, he drops the topic of conversation. "Alright, well. Just shave every once in a while, at least when you come into the office. And some sleep. Even HR is getting worried if we're abusing you from your dark circles."

"Thanks for the warning."

"Not a warning, just a suggestion." The other hands over a folder to Peter, before adding, "...as a friend."

Normal him would've said something a bit impulsive and possibly offensive, but he's got no energy for it. Instead, he gives another thanks with a nod of his head.

Winter: February.

He paints his nails, black.

It's something he had always thought about doing, but never did because of a fear of being seen a certain way. As unprofessional. Weird. Hipster. Strange. Goth.

Gay.

Maybe he wasn't as comfortable with himself as he had thought to be. And yet, he had given Brian so much fire for being too careful about their relationship around outside peers, his fans, and his parents.

"You know I'm gay, right?" Peter asks, or more so states. He's playing around with his fingers while sitting besides Dowoon at the restaurant table.

It brings up a blink from Dowoon, who swallows something down his throat. Even if Dowoon's slightly out of his line of sight, the redness of his ears is enough for Peter to know — and it's not from the alcohol in front of them.

"Uh, yeah, I know. I.. I know."

"Okay."

A wave of silence passes, and he hears Dowoon swallowing a few more times. He laughs, and Dowoon gives him a strange look at him.

"Why are you laughing?" Dowoon asks, genuinely curious.

"Because of you." Peter answers. "And I think I'm tipsy."

"That's nice. I mean. Not being drunk, but... I mean..." Peter notes the way his ears grow even redder, and begin to wonder what's more red between him and the wine in his glass. "I like it when you laugh."

Another bit of quietness rests between them, before Dowoon looks like he wants to say something. Instead, he leans near, close enough for it to be questionable. He doesn't move any closer, and instead lets Peter decide for himself. Peter closes the remaining distance between them, pressing their lips together.

Up till now, he had thought it better that Brian remained an absence so that they remained a question. And yet, in this very moment, it no longer felt like a question, and more than an answer — and the wrong one.

Spring: April.

"Maybe the universe is telling you to move on."

"I think you're telling me to move on." Peter replies, giving his best friend a look.

"So I'm your universe now? Predictable. I always knew you were in love with me. I get it. You're into the best friends to lovers trope. Maybe we can make it happen."

"Uh huh." Peter runs the tip of his thumbs around the rim of his cup, staring at the coffee in it. It's long lost it's warmth, distasteful and lukewarm. He feels quite like it, just as in between even with two entire seasons past. "I'm taking time off. I asked for brunch because I was wondering if that... photographing across Europe trip together was still on the table."

"You mean the trip we planned together in middle school?" Youngjin raises a brow, with a playful grin.

"Merde. We planned that in middle school?"

"You were way more full of dreams when you were younger. Remember, you wanted to get married to an electric violinist and be in a traveling band with them with two kids exactly two years apart. Also with six cats or one hamster. And also wanted to become the first Spanish-Asian president of Spain or something."

"Right."

"Working in a cubicle definitely changed you. But..." Youngjin nudges at Peter's side, meeting his eyes. "...the adventurer Pillie still in there somewhere."

"Sure."

"I know because I saw bits of it again when you were dating him."

Summer: May.

“You’re leaving for work tomorrow morning?”

"Yeah, I... wasn’t really thinking when I got on the plane and accidentally used up all my vacation days.” A genuine laugh leaves Peter, as he scratches the back of his neck.

“I thought you always had like three or four weeks saved by this time of the year?” Brian is more observant of him now, if he could be any more so than before.

"Well I did..." Peter’s hand remains at his neck, now itching at the other side. Even if Peter doesn’t remember so, Brian knows him too well. It’s a habit of his when he gets embarrassed, especially when accompanied by his eyes falling downward to the ground, as they go. “A month ago.”

Brian processes what Peter’s said only afterwards, and it leaves him thinking for a while. It’s strange to imagine Peter of all people not thinking; especially with something as time and energy consuming as flying overseas. Brian tries to imagine it but for some reason can’t— yet when he gets another look at him, he knows it’s the truth. It’s in his disheveled gaze, to his messy hair, unshaven face, and wrongly buttoned shirt.

Nothing about him seems like Peter, yet his smile is the same.

“So you can’t...” stay, he wants to say, but decides on another word. He’s only just come back so it seems too selfish of him to ask of something as heavy. “...come grab breakfast with me tomorrow.” Brian wonders if his smile is enough to assume, or if that’s dangerous.

Peter looks up at him, and his eyes are doing much more of the talking than his words are. It’s the regret lining them; the rue overcasting them. “Mm, no.”

“Okay.” Brian replies.

The street lamp above them flickers a few times, and Peter’s lashes do the same as he blinks quite intentionally once, then twice. His eyes peek over to Brian another time, before letting out a subtle sigh. 

“Can I... try something?”

“...depends on what it is.” Brian replies, and surprises Peter with the response. The Brian he knew wouldn't hesitate to take him up, allow for him to knock at his door and open it without thought. Peter's not used to this Brian, and he seems foreign. Not familiar.

Even Brian seems a bit unsure of his reply, lips still parted open as if he wants to correct himself — but also knowing better than to allow Peter in any deeper. It makes Peter smile again, because it’s respectable, and so different than the man he knows. But instead of letting him give another answer, Peter brings him in for an embrace, throwing his arms around his neck. He buries his head in the crook of him, closing his eyes.

The first thing Peter notices is his change in scent. It’s again, not familiar, but at the base of it still yells Brian. It’s comforting in that way, although new and exciting all at the same time. It’s only when he feels Brian’s hands settling warmly on his back that he lets himself stay there even a bit longer, as if having gotten the permission to do so.

Even in the short moment, Peter tries his best to stretch out time. Not because he wants to linger in it more, but because it seems like he’s been waiting for this bit for the past year.

"If not breakfast... can I take you out to eat a late dinner?"

"Yes." Peter answers, with such certainty and without missing a beat that it surprises Brian. "Please." Peter adds, staying in his arms for a beat too long, with the answer he's gotten over the seasons.

He’s found a relatively quieter section of the house, outside the balcony. It’s mid-winter and he’s freezing, but he hasn’t been able to feel his fingers for a while now and it’s starting to bother him less. Jae has taken a seat across from him, crossing his arms. He rather looks like a father figure in the current situation and it makes Peter laugh.

“No.” Peter admits, while shoving his hands into the pockets of his jacket. 

“You want me to take you home?” Jae offers. Peter thinks he must really look like shit if Jae’s being this nice to him. He shakes his head to answer instead. Jae’s chair groans as he leans backwards on it, while Peter sits up a bit straighter. “Do you want me to go get Bri?” 

“No!” He shakes his head a bit more vigorously this time. “I know... I know this is important to him.” 

Jae tilts his head. “Is it though?” He proposes the question only for there to be silence that follows it. “Everything is important to Brian though.” 

“Yeah. That’s kind of the problem with him.” 

Peter snorts and Jae does too. 

“His biggest strength and his biggest weakness, huh.” 

“Yeah.” 

They sit in silence for a while. Peter’s about to tell Jae that he’s going to head home, when there’s a knock on the balcony door. Both Jae and Peter turn around at the same time, to see Brian and his big, goofy smile coming through the door. 

“What’s my two favorite people doing out here? This is where the party is huh.” Brian’s got that slight color to his cheeks. Although he’s not drunk, he’s flushed a bit, showing even in the dim lights outside. 

“You said that shit to Bonnie and Wade an hour ago. Don’t say the same halfassed stuff to different people at least. Well. Anyway. I have to go check on if they restocked the guac.” Jae says while getting up, moving over to pat Brian on the shoulder. Peter gets up too, gathering his things. When he looks back up, he realizes Jae’s whispering something to Brian, before he leaves. Brian’s smile’s fallen, and instead his brows have furrowed up in worry. 

“You want to go home?” 

Peter reminds himself to punch Jae later. “Yeah, I’m going to take a cab.” He shoves his phone as well as his palms into his pockets again, as if afraid to showcase his hands to Brian. “I don’t really know anyone and... even if I did you know I don’t really do... well in places like this.” 

“I’ll come with you, I --” Someone calls Brian’s name from inside the house, not even once but thrice. 

“I can take a cab on my own, Brian. I’ll be okay.” Peter snorts, before walking towards him and giving him a peck on the cheek. Brian’s skin is warm and Peter’s lips are cooler. Brian looks like he wants to say something, but the voices inside have gotten louder, with now multiple different people calling for Brian. “I’ll see you in the morning.” Peter’s about to push past Brian but he grabs for his arm, gently but with enough force. 

“Stay for fifteen more minutes. I’ll take you home. I just have to let them know I’m leaving.” Brian looks down at him, with those eyes of his, and it makes Peter stumble for a moment. Brian reads his hesitation and squeezes at his arms on both sides. “Fifteen minutes?” Brian actually gives him a pout. “Please?” 

Maybe it’s because he’s cold and just wants to get home and take a shower, or it’s because he’s wanted to leave the moment he got here and saw Brian a bit too close to someone, but it doesn’t work this time. “Brian.” Peter says his name, before slipping out of his grasp. “It’s okay. I’m going to go home, I’ll see you tomorrow anyway.” 

This time, Brian looks annoyed. “But you said you wanted to come and be here.” 

“Brian, it’s fine. Really, I --” 

Brian continues. “That was the only reason we came. If you had said no, we didn’t have to come, you know. We could have just --”

“I don’t... I don’t enjoy feeling like this!” Peter yells. It’s sudden, and it cuts through the air between the two of them. Brian takes a physical step back from Peter, and tries to find his eyes. 

Brian’s voice lowers. “What are you feeling?” 

Even now, Brian is tender and everything warm, and it makes Peter feel just that much colder. He makes the habitual mistake of meeting Brian’s eyes for a moment, only to tear them away. He hides his face in the palms of his hands, which have gotten a bit slippery and sweaty during their conversation. 

“Like... like...” Peter mumbles, trying to organize his thoughts to be able to sort through his feelings. It doesn’t help that he can feel Brian’s eyes on him and him only; he knows he’s looking at him with concern and he hates that he’s the one causing it. “Like...” He rubs at his eyes, before settling his hands to his side. His voice has climbed back into the ground, now low again without any strength to it. “Like I have to compete with everyone. Like I’m just like anyone else that you know and interact with.” 

“Like I’m not enough.” He swallows something down his throat, but his mouth feels dry and hoarse. 

“I’m fucking jealous all the time of everyone around you even though I know you don’t mean to make it that way and... I’m always so nervous and I know nothing’s going to happen but it always feels like it could at any moment and it’s all I can think about in places like this.” Peter’s chest falls, only because he only realizes after finishing his sentence that he’s been holding his breath the entire time. It’s how he’s felt at the entire party, for the past three hours. They’ve existed in the same space, but he’s felt absent even in his presence. 

“I know... that it’s not true but sometimes, especially at events like this... it.. it feels like you only love the idea of me and... ” Peter lifts his head a bit, with his hands now fisted at his side. His chest moves again to let out another breath, and he finally feels the beginnings of what it feels like to be empty. 

He knows he’s said too much by now, and there’s no going back. 

“I’m sorry.” Peter says, empty. He finally gets to the balcony door. “Get home safe.” 

mélomanie: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.

He watches Brian through the glass, only able to catch a glimpse of the side of his face once in a while. 

He’ll hear their voices too, just barely. Brian saying things like sorry, let me try that again, or do you think the drum line should be a little quieter here? And then him laughing, or smiling to himself. In just the couple of hours sitting here, he’s noted how to tell when Brian makes a mistake: if it’s a small one, he’ll scrunch his nose, and if a bigger one, look down then towards the right while grasping at the bass more firmly. Occasionally, (and really, on quite the occasion) he’ll turn around to tap at the glass, and Peter won’t be able to hide his smile from him. 

It’s strange to see him so focused on any one particular thing, more or less for longer than three, four hours. It’s a side of Brian that he’s not been able to see before, at least, not at this kind of length. 

“You must be Peter.” A stranger says to him, from the corner. When Peter realizes who she is, he holds his laptop a bit closer, as if to physically hold onto an excuse to get out of conversation. 

“Hi.” He replies.

“I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to meet you! I mean I feel like in a way I already know you, you know. Because Brian, well, he’s always writing about you. If not about you then because of you.”

“That’s romantic, I guess.” Peter says, because he doesn’t know what to say. Small talk is already difficult as it is, and it’s more of a struggle when it’s with the girl that’s blatantly at work, been hitting on the guy in question.

“You’re not... exactly how I imagined you.” He wants to ask what that’s exactly supposed to mean. Instead, he lifts his head, and then a smile towards her with absolutely no response at all. Instead of getting the hint, she continues. “For some reason I thought you’d be more interesting, you know. Because Brian is well. Really interesting and...”

“Gay.” Peter interjects, with the same smile still there.

“Well, yeah, I mean, he, yeah. Sure. Yeah, I guess.” The girl physically retreats, taking a step back towards the other side of the room, towards the door. There’s a full minute of uncomfortable silence between them before she gives him a wave. “Well, nice meeting you Peter, I think they need me in there about now, so I think I’ll get going.”

Peter reopens his laptop, and the first thing he sees is the alert on his lower right corner, seeing the low battery yell at him. He keeps it open, as his screen dims, then fades into a completely black and blank one.

“You look so focused, what are you working on?” Brian’s voice breaks him out of his daze, and before he can register where he is, he feels him jump to his side on the couch. It’s only a matter of time before he nuzzles up against him, before giving a big grin. “Wait, you’re not even working on any-”

Before he can continue, Peter throws his arm around his neck and pulls him in towards him. Peter feels the way Brian freezes to try to understand for a moment, before giving up and leaning into him just the same. They stay in the same position for a length Peter doesn’t time. Instead, he counts the number of times he feels Brian’s breath on his cheek, and only till he reaches somewhere in the two hundreds, does he pull himself out of it to meet his eyes.

“You doing okay?” Brian mumbles, voice quiet like he doesn’t want others to hear, even if everyone else is in the room next door to them and they’re alone. His brows are furrowed in towards one another, and he looks like a complete puppy, worried about something small or big just the same.

“You really love doing this.” Peter says to him, while burying himself by the other’s neck once more. "This music stuff.” He adds, because he realizes only after that he wasn’t specific enough. 

Brian gives a hearty laugh, one that Peter can even feel on his skin because of how close they are. “Yeah, I kinda do. Was that not... obvious?” Brian moves an arm around Peter’s waist, and Peter responds by slipping a hand through Brian’s hair. 

“You should go on the tour next week.” 

“What?” Brian’s hand stops stroking Peter’s side, and instead looks for one of his hands. “I thought you didn’t want me leaving because it’s the second time this month and it’s close to Christmas and whatever not.” 

“God Brian, you look at your bass like you’ve never seen anything more beautiful since fettuccine pasta and you want to passionately make love to it.” Peter grumbles, still speaking against Brian’s neck. “It would be criminal of you to not go when it’s all you can talk about. Even in your dreams. I’ve heard you mumbling about it since you’ve been back.” 

“Why, are you jealous of Goldie?” Brian pries, while trying to find Peter’s face with his own, starting to press flush against him a bit more.

“Fuck you. Whatever.” His response makes Brian laugh again, and this time, Peter can’t keep himself from a small smile either. He’s smiling against the skin of Brian’s neck, because he wants him to know. He finds Brian’s hands again instead, before interlocking their fingers together. 

“Are you going to be okay for five months?” Brian urges, even though they both know the real question is asked replacing you with we. When Peter doesn’t respond, Brian forces him to locks eyes again instead, their foreheads against each other’s. 

“Can you kiss me?” Peter asks.

Somehow, somewhere down the line one thing had led to another, and now they were spending Halloween together. Maybe Ryujin had hinted passively that her friends hadn’t made any plans, and maybe Minhyuk had just as casually mentioned that he hadn’t had any to begin with. Or it could have been that the plan was to spend it together from the beginning, obvious in the way Ryujin arrived at Minhyuk’s place with matching costumes, a bag full of candy, two boxes of chicken and two cans of beer. 

“Your big butt’s taking up the whole couch.” Ryujin comments, the grin reflecting into her voice. She plants herself a little more into the seat, purposefully nudging over at Minhyuk besides her. His weight shifts a bit more into the corner of the couch as Minhyuk murmurs something at her. 

“What’d you say this time?” 

“Nothing.” 

Ryujin slips her elbow right to his side, putting enough pressure there till he caves in with the smallest smile she barely manages to catch a glance of. “I said... better than having none and not taking up any.” 

“Your insults have really leveled up after hanging around me, I’ll give you that.” She looks over at him, but is quick enough to not let him distract her from the screen. They’re head to head on Mario Kart, constantly switching between first and second place depending on the next turn on the race track. 

“Are we still playing Among Us after with your other friends?” 

“I... only could get like three of them to respond. Not sure how fun a five person game of Among Us would be.” It’s a half-lie. She’s trying to read him, but not read too much into him. “I was thinking we should just stick with playing with each other for tonight?” Sometimes he’s an open book and other times he’s good at keeping himself closed off, but it just gives her more of a reason to try a bit harder at understanding him. “Unless you’re upset about losing out on the chance on meeting others girls, then—” 

Minhyuk cuts her off, immediately so. “No, that’s not the reason I—” 

Ryujin sees her chance and takes it, using the moment of his distraction to make it count and run ahead of him on the last sprint of the last lap. She mimics her character on the screen, standing up to copy the same victory dance. She doesn’t waste another minute in grabbing at the princess dress sprawled on the chair beside her, waving it in the air. 

“Looks like you’re gonna be the princess tonight!” 

A few days ago, when they visited their favorite restaurant, Brian had actually ran out of new things on the menu to try. When visiting the local park next to Peter’s apartment, they had now sat (and held hands) on every bench. Even the barista at the coffee shop downstairs now knew Brian’s order, having the cup set on the bar even before they walk up to the counter. 

It’s all nerve wrecking because he knows Brian’s not one for patterns and repetition.

Peter looks up across the apartment, to find Brian’s eyes already on him. He hesitates for a moment if he should look away, but finds it too late, letting their gazes linger there. Peter breaks into a small, light laugh first. 

“What?” Brian says, with a smile of his own starting to grow. 

“I don’t know how to explain it.” Peter replies, biting his lower lip and returning himself to his laptop screen. He’s looking towards it but not really staring at anything; his fingers tap on the keyboard without actually typing anything out. 

Brian lifts a brow as if in thought, placing his sheet music down to his side. “Tell me in French, then.” 

Peter closes his laptop, settling it on his lap. “//Don’t you get tired of staring? Bored like you usually get with things.//” 

“Now I’m the one not understanding.” 

“//Tired of...//” me, you, and us is what he wants to say. 

Peter adjusts his glasses, lifting them onto his nose bridge. He breaks their gaze, and instead stands up. He moves to the desk beside him, turning his back to Brian and fiddling through some papers mindlessly. There’s no real reason for his motions except for an outlet for his nervousness. 

He hears Brian move, and before he can decide on his next words, feels him closer. He’s right behind him, resting his chin on his shoulder. Brian’s hand comes over his own, and the papers settle on the desk again. 

“What are you trying to tell me?” Brian asks. Although Peter can’t see his face this time, his voice has lowered, and the silence between their exchanges is much more uncomfortable than before. 

“//I’m not sure.//” 

His words are certain about his uncertainty, just like how he wants to lean into Brian’s embrace but at the same time wants to wonders if he’s not supposed to. His headache has worsened and his chest feels heavier than before, as he decides to turn around. Their faces are pretty close until Peter is the one to get some distance between them, leaning more towards the desk behind them. It’s strange because Brian’s gaze doesn’t rely on the closeness of them, and his eyes watch him just as intimately far or close. Brian lifts his hands to remove Peter’s glasses, as if their glance wasn’t enough. Peter stands there a while, not knowing exactly what to do with two too many thoughts running around his head. 

“Peter.” Brian doesn’t let him escape the situation, continuing to wait for him to speak. He’s good at this now, and learned how he avoids having to talk about certain things. It’s just another thing that Brian knows too well now, and it makes Peter afraid to be an accustomed habit to him.

Peter bows his head till his forehead hits Brian’s shoulder. “I said too much.” He lets go of the breath he had been holding there, while his head moves into the  crook of Brian’s neck -- a place that had also too, become too much of a habit of theirs. 

“Did you want to try that new restaurant on Lemercier tomorrow?”