the city is forgetting you

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.”