Their ride was fairly silent afterwards. Jeongin recoiled into his tightly padded turtle shell, hands fiddling with anything he could touch, teeth chewing on anything he could bite. Within reason. Although he could feel the few unsaid words staling the air between them, neither of them chose to make a comment to upset the uncomfortable balance.

Somewhere between twelve and one in the morning, just about when Jeongin was falling asleep in the passenger seat, they reached the apartment building in the distance. It was a bit shorter then it seemed, but nonetheless larger then the majority of buildings in the city. The complex had a polished look to every windowed facet it possessed and a refined edge to the glass turning door they approached to lead them into the main lobby. As he stepped inside, Jeongin had never felt more out of place at a high class area as he did in that moment. It even smelled like clean and shiny.

Chan led them to an elevator, tucked behind what looked to be a fake plant up until the point Jeongin pinched the end of the lush foliage and immediately realized his finger punctured through veins of the delicate leaf. The older quickly pulled him into the elevator before anyone caught on to the newly formed hole. As they waited silently in the elevator to reach the next floor, Jeongin's vision became blurred. He hurriedly wiped the wetness away from his eyes when he heard the resonant ding, mumbling a quiet apology to the plant as he scurried behind Chan to an apartment door.

Chan unlocked the door and toed it open, letting the younger walk in before joining him inside and promptly shutting the door closed behind them. He gestured around, "Make yourself at home. A bit empty, but..."

His voice became drowned out as Jeongin glanced around the house in wonder. Everything screamed money. From the unusually open space to the minimalist but modern design to the flat, everything about it felt expensive to an extend that didn't have a limit. Jeongin almost didn't want to touch anything. All of it was so pristine, it felt as if he would lay his hands on the walls and suddenly it would crumble from the speck of dirt he accidentally contaminated it with.

Jeongin spun around a few more times, his trance being shattered apart when Chan mentioned, "There's a balcony-"

"A balcony?!"

The older recoiled back at the sudden shout. He nodded in amusement and pointed to a glass door on the wall farthest away from them. Jeongin shot from his spot, sprinting in the direction that Chan had motioned to. He threw the sliding door open and stepped out on to the balcony. They were definitely a lot farther off the ground than the elevator ride let on to, the cars and traffic below being nothing but tiny ants in comparison to his hand. It was a perfect view of the skyline, the tall buildings rising around it, the blinding lights beaming and reflecting a haze across the outlines of the city.

Jeongin gripped the metal railing harder. The city felt different from this angle. He felt like a giant, or a King, turning his nose up to all his subjects that scurried below and served no other purpose then to please his every fiber. Then being dragged back to reality when a car horn blazed in the distance, and he remembered he was among the loyal subjects not too long ago.

He was scanning the sky when he felt a brush against his shoulder. Jeongin casted his gaze down to Chan, the older leaning over the railing to look at the worker ants below. When he had arrived out here, who knows, but he had already positioned himself next to the younger like he had never left his side.

And he had to admit; this moment was too perfect. The endless night sky speckled with few stars, the gentle midnight breeze swaying their hair back and forth, the bright city lights illuminating and casting shadows to accentuate his perfect features against the illustrious background, it was all so beautiful. Jeongin felt his heart rate pick up. In the moment, as he gaped at the older, a certain realization clicked into place.

Feelings? Infatuation? To hell with that.

"I hate you."

Chan snorted in amusement, "Yeah?"

"I mean it, I really do," Jeongin's grip tightened impossibility more on the metal railing, to the point it could have bended under his fingertips. He confessed again, "I hate you and I envy you. You are everything I want to be yet I know I can't be."

The older continued to smile at him. It wasn't taunting, or even placating, it was simply a smile, that same one he wore whenever he wanted to tell someone he was still present. Yet, it was infuriating. The more Jeongin looked at it the more he wanted to get rid of it, to wipe his stupid expressions off his face and get him to shut up. Despite wanting to say so many things and having so many ways to say them, Jeongin just scoffed, "I want to hit you."

"Then do it," Chan stood straight, staring just slightly up at the younger yet somehow again seeming so much more taller then him. So much more greater. His smile flipped into something akin to a glower, as he taunted, "You won't."

"You don't know that."

"You're too afraid to look up from your shoe laces, you won't be brave enough to hit me."

The younger bit his lip hard, eyes tracking after him as Chan bent back over the railing and stared out over the city skyline. Jeongin cocked an eyebrow, "For a nice guy, you're really rude."

"Never said I was nice."

"No, I thought you were. But you've said a few things that have... Irked me to say the least."

Instead of a proper response, Chan said, "Why do you talk so formal?"

"Formal? Did you even hear me?"

"I hear you, but it won't mean anything till I listen," The older said plainly, a hint of annoyance starting to decorate the edges of his words. He glanced over to Jeongin who was grimacing, a sharp scowl on his face that only grew more intense by the second. But Chan pressed on, "That strike a nerve? Can see it in your face."

Jeongin bit his tongue, took a deep inhale, and parroted, "I wish you would watch what you say."

"So composed," Chan cooed, "You piss me off."

"Pardon me?"

"Didn't you say you hate me? Alright. You piss me off. Am I supposed to believe you're a good kid like everyone else? Acting like; 'Its my pleasure to meet you'. You think I believe that? I'm not an idiot."

Jeongin scowled.

"You act so well but on you're own, you're nothing. You're a trapped little mess of thoughts and feelings that are too scared to release," Chan returned. His lips curved into a simper,

"You're a coward."

Jeongin recoiled. Had he always been so brash in his words and tone? It couldn't be. This was something new. It was hard to argue he didn't immensely enjoy watching the older's 'enigmatic' and kingly aura unravel into a coarse mess. Still, he evened out his breathing. Or tried to, until his world snapped in his burning chest finally wiggling his to clutch at his chest. It was aching, a pain flooding in his lungs that made him want to suffocate. He clutched at the pain, fingers curling over the shirt covering his chest as he argued, "What? Do you think I'm happy as I am? Do you think I'm happy, being who I am? Answering to them like some dog? But you can't understand. I am nothing if I don't make them pleased!"

Chan shouted to the midnight air, "Fuck them!"

Jeongin's eyes widened.

"Your friends, your brother, your parents, even the crew. They're not here," Chan opened his arms, presenting his chest to the younger as he stepped away, filling the space between them for the first time that night. It looked as if he was expecting a hug, or a punch, maybe some mixture of both as his silhouette eclipsed the burning lights of the neon city behind them, "No more safety net. It's just us. What will you do from here?"

Chan dropped his arms, waiting patiently for an answer as the younger stared at him. Truthfully, at this point it was impossible to look anywhere else. His decision? Since when had it ever come down to his final choice? Even now as he glared at the older, those doubts lingered in his heart and in his mind, becoming more impossible by the minute to believe his word ever truly mattered in the heat of the moment. This situation; it almost made him want to laugh. But the minutes grew on, longer and longer as Jeongin didn't dare move from his position. Yet Chan waited.

The next words came so quietly, he could almost guess they were never there. But it lingered, it echoed too hard in his mind to ignore, a steadfast question of, "What do you want to do?"

When was the last time someone asked me that? Jeongin's fingertips curled into his palm as they turned to fists. More then that, what was it that he really wanted?

To earn good grades? To be a good person? No, there was something more. It ran deeper in his veins then the surface values he always presented, a something that ran so deep it had become a war of attrition until he would finally wear on his bones. To be happy? To make others happy? Of course not. But what? At a point he thought he wanted to exist, to live, to make his own choices and be free from whatever he had been pitted against in this vast colosseum but now those things he had been chasing after seemed to be so close to him that it didn't quite matter as much as he thought. It was something more...

But it was close.

What?

What was it?

He could only think back to all the times he had been with Chan. A mess of feelings, conversations that lead to no where, guessing, hoping, assuming, but having to start over all again when it never made any sense. And again he had to ask, what exactly was Chan thinking when he looked at him?

Maybe. It wasn't what he was thinking, it was that he looked at him. Even now, his gaze never drifted anywhere else.

He was so close.

This man who had frustrated him beyond belief.

This man who had confused him in every intention and word.

This man who had known him more then anyone else in the short time they talked.

He felt so much closer then anyone else. Chan was not a model set, or an unattainable goal, he was always within arms reach.

Jeongin snagged a fistful of Chan's shirt. As his heart raced and told him off, told him that no, this man was still a stranger he barely knew for more than a month, he crumbled to that desire. He shouldn't be clutching at his shirt, he shouldn't be tripping over his feet to press him against the gritted walls behind them. And he, above all, definitely should not be closing their proximity.

As the midnight breeze dulled his mind and the city lights reflected off his tears, Jeongin slammed their lips together.

✘