The rooftop was quiet except for the occasional breeze rustling through the night air. Jay leaned against the railing, eyes focused on the city below, while Jungwon sat cross-legged beside him, arms resting on his knees.

“You always bring me up here when you want to say something,” Jungwon said, breaking the silence.

Jay smirked. “Maybe I just like the view.”

Jungwon rolled his eyes but didn’t push. He knew Jay well enough to recognize when he was stalling.

They sat in silence for another moment before Jay finally sighed, tilting his head to glance at Jungwon. “Do you ever feel like… something’s different, but you don’t know when it changed?”

Jungwon blinked, caught off guard. “Depends. What are we talking about?”

Jay hesitated, gripping the railing a little tighter. Then, quietly, he said, “Us.”

Jungwon’s breath hitched, his usual composure slipping just slightly. He turned to face Jay fully now, studying his expression. “What about us?”

Jay let out a small chuckle, shaking his head. “See, that’s the thing. I don’t know.” He finally looked at Jungwon, his voice softer now. “I just know that when you look at me, it feels different. And when I look at you, I—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I don’t know how to go back to how it was before.”

Jungwon’s heart pounded. He hadn’t expected this—not now, not from Jay.

“…Maybe we’re not supposed to,” Jungwon admitted.

Jay stilled. Then, slowly, his lips curled into a small smile. “You saying I should stop overthinking?”

Jungwon huffed a laugh. “I’m saying you should stop talking and do something about it.”

Jay didn’t need to be told twice.

In the next second, he was closing the space between them, and when Jungwon met him halfway, it felt like something inevitable—like something they had both been waiting for.