unlearning · @exoneratecl
21st Jun 2014 from TwitLonger
sunday mornings {suho/kyungsoo} for @dyojuns
usually, kyungsoo resents mornings. he hates it when the sun creeps in through cracks between the blinds; how he's always cold because the comforter had decided to slip off his body in the middle of the night; the crushing realization that the left side of the bed is empty, just like the morning before.
but he looks forward to sunday mornings, because that's when he opens his eyes to a fluff of blonde hair, familiar warmth snuggled tight beside him. sunday mornings are a few hours after junmyeon comes home - not home as in his malibu mansion with a gorgeous beach front, but kyungsoo's one-room apartment on the outskirts of los angeles. sunday mornings are kyungsoo waking up to his queen-sized bed filled out, the left side with a junmyeon-shaped dip that kyungsoo thinks belongs there. sunday mornings are kyungsoo's favorite time of the week, even better than christmas (unless it happens to fall on a sunday, too).
and there are the little things. like how junmyeon would always plant a i've-missed-you kiss on the side of kyungsoo's head, soft and lingering, when he gets in at the dead of the night, regardless of how exhausted he is. junmyeon minimizing the noise of his footsteps, the rustling of the sheets and his clothes as he sheds them because he doesn't want to wake kyungsoo. but no matter what kyungsoo would stir anyway, and it's not because of the noise or the movement, but his awareness of junmyeon's presence, sharpened by yearnings that are a week old.
it's funny, kyungsoo thinks, that six days can feel like an eternity during the week but a blink of an eye when sunday morning comes.
junmyeon doesn't leave the bed as soon as he crawls in, somewhere between three and four a.m., until he absolutely has to leave for hollywood for another six days of filming. and kyungsoo stays with him. it's like they are confined to the four edges of kyungsoo's bed except it's a voluntary isolation and there's no monster underneath the bed except reality which sticks to the soles of their feet if - when - they step on the ground.
kyungsoo spends his sunday mornings re-learning junmyeon, like riding a bike after years without pedaling. there's always something new about him, kyungsoo discovers, like a new trim to his hair; overgrown stubbles on his chin; bags under his eyes from pulling all-nighters for which kyungsoo always feels guilty as if it's something he could control. but there are things that never change, like the smell of junmyeon's aftershave; the shock of blonde hair which is required for his current role; the way his skin feels under kyungsoo's fingertips.
then there are things that seem to take a vacation but always come back when kyungsoo least expects it, like the weight of junmyeon's arm, heavy with fatigue and disenchantment with the industry; the urgency of his thrusts as if the world will steal kyungsoo away within the next minute; the unspoken apologies mixed in with i-love-you's in the way he touches, kisses kyungsoo wistfully, holding him so tight that if kyungsoo didn't know better, he would think junmyeon was trying to stop sand from slipping through his fingers.
junmyeon would leave after kyungsoo falls asleep, shortly before the clock tells of monday morning. but he would always wake up anyway when the door closes with an imperceptible thud, and he tries to find sleep again, dreaming of the next sunday morning.