Chapter Text
Guang Hong pulled nervously at the sleeve of his shirt as he waited at the locker he shared with a person who’s name he didn’t even know.
Maybe they should have exchanged names first.
The hallways were almost empty when Guang Hong was approached by a teenage boy he didn’t recognize. He had black hair and a grumpy expression, not at all what Guang Hong had imagined.
“O- Oh, hello. It’s nice to finally–”
“No.” He said, his voice not exactly what Guang Hong had imagined either, based on his singing.
“No?”
“I’m not the one you’re waiting for.”
Guang Hong let out a long sigh that turned into laugher as he realized how happy he was. This boy seemed nice enough but Guang Hong would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t a little disappointed. Mostly because he didn’t think his pen pal was the type to frown like this kid.
“Oh.”
“I’m Seung-gil and I’m supposed to bring you to the auditorium.”
“Oh, thank you. I’m Guang Hong.”
“I know.”
Guang Hong blinked at the man’s back as he started to walk away.
“Wait! What do you mean you know?”
“Your friend, Phichit, has made it his daily mission in art to annoy me. He talks about you a lot and likes to show me pictures.”
“Oh.” Guang Hong felt himself blushing, wondering why Phichit never mentioned Seung-gil. “So are you friends with my pen pal?”
He shrugged. “I guess.” He opened the auditorium door. “Go inside.”
“Oh, okay, thanks.”
But Seung-gil didn’t respond, just turning to leave Guang Hong alone. With a final breath, Guang Hong stepped into the auditorium and hoped for the best.
---
Inside was a boy sitting at the edge of the stage, a guitar in his lap as he strummed quietly to himself. For a long moment, Guang Hong was lost looking at him. He could really only see the top of his head and even that was hard to see from this distance but he was still mesmerized. Only when the door closed behind him did the other boy look up.
“Hello!” They called, the voice matching much better with the music Guang Hong had listened to. “I’m glad to finally meet you.”
“You too.” Guang Hong responded, quiet.
“What was that?” He called. “I can’t quite hear you.”
“I said it’s nice to meet you too.” Guang Hong said but his voice was still too quiet.
“What?”
Finally, Guang Hong shouted. “It’s nice to meet you!”
“Oh!” The boy laughed. “That makes sense.”
The stared at each other for a long time before the boy on the stage seemed to remember what he was doing.
“I wanted to show you something.” He held up hi guitar a little, “Well I want you to hear something. I… I wrote this song for you. Well, it’s not really a song yet. Just a couple of lines… It’s still a work in progress but–” He took a deep breath, cutting himself off. “Here’s what I’ve got.”
Guang Hong blinked, finally finding it in him to move closer to the stage as the boy started to play.
The song was quiet but Guang Hong recognized it as a rewrite of one of his pen pal’s songs on the first CD he sent.
“If I lived a thousand years and never met you.” The boy's voice was quiet and a little uncertain but Guang Hong could hear that he meant the words he sang, even if he could also tell this was sort of a first draft. “I don’t think I’d know, that I’d know, what to do. There’s a reason for every meeting and a reason for you.” He paused a little longer than Guang Hong thought he meant to and had to catch back up to his own beat even as the music swelled. “And the reasons that I met you are bigger than me. But now, that doesn’t matter because now I know what you mean. Oh, I know what mean, what you mean to me.” He played for a little, Guang Hong frozen in uncertainty as the music quieted down. “I guess what I’m saying is that I think I might like you. That I think I like you… a lot.”
The song ended and silence rang through the room, Guang Hong frozen and his friend looking down at the floor.
Finally, his pen pal broke the silence.
“Sorry if that was too much… But it’s true.”
Without much thought, Guang Hong was in motion. He bridged the gap between him and the stage, him and his pen pal, and grabbed the other boy’s hand. He pulled him to the ground and took one more step forward, pressing their lips together a little too forcefully.
There was a moment where Guang Hong felt no response and wondered if he’d screwed up but then his pen pal kissed him back and the feeling like he was going to throw up finally disappeared.
When the broke apart, Guang Hong laughed. “My name’s Guang Hong, by the way.”
His friend laughed too, the sound musical.
“Hi Guang Hong, I’m Leo.”