— treasure's paragon ; °
char wakes up in the sunlight that spills from the window. it's been a while since rich warmth had kissed his skin like this. he's missed it. but the weather is still quite cool at this time of the year -- the slither of brisk air that brushes against his neck reminds him so. and he realises it's not the sun that gives this warmth its beloved gold. rather, it's what char huddles back into -- who he huddles back into.
oh.
he'd forgotten. everything was like it was before -- he didn't even realise that this wasn't the institute, this wasn't his room, this wasn't his bed. however, this was joonmyun. somnolence shrouds his vision still, but he knows. he knows the familiar scent of freshly cleaned laundry. the warmth that's more comfortable than char's own. the slope of this neck that accommodates his cheek as snug as two jigsaw pieces. he knows this is joonmyun. he knows because they fit.
a contented sigh puffs from his lips, enjoying the satisfaction that rivals nicotine but goes without its mephitic denouement. his warm breath curls against the slope of joonmyun's neck and brushes back against his own cheek, again -- just like it did before. char grins. he wonders if joonmyun can feel it against his skin.
he also wonders if joonmyun is awake. char can't see him as his own face nestles in the crook of his shoulder, but he kind of hopes the elder is awake. because this is a silent call of an 'i've missed you' -- the kind of words that bubble up at the back of his throat but always get caught in the same place. char's palms press against joonmyun's chest, but they don't stay there for long as he ends up winding his arms around the elder. though, he's had countless dreams that play out just like this. so he squeezes a little.
and it's substantiated --
this is real.
