Chapter Text
EPILOGUE
i [ didn’t ] expect to touch the sky.
—sappho fragment 52
The first visit was filled with playful pursuits.
Their excitement was uncontained and free, despite the camera that desperately tried to catch up with their devilries. The ever so piercing laugh of the boy who screamed sunlit echoed in every destination, the only fitting comfort for the boy who was every inch built in apprehension. And because of this freeing impression, Park Jisung felt he had nothing to lose. Thus, surrendering to the dawn of exhilaration, he brought down every trappings that mask his ever-growing affections and allowed the elder to hear how his mere presence makes his heart sing hymns.
And to think that the events succeeding weren’t just a mere fantasy, for here he sat beside the elder, with their hands intertwined, blushing at the knowing looks of the elder’s family.
Chenle’s mother knew, of course, for mothers always had special intuitions. She even made a wager with Chenle’s aunts, making the two teenagers fluster deeper in red after eyeing the sight of the combined responses of Chinese women exchanging their profits and losses.
“Thank you for making our Lele happy,” Jisung caught her say with the distinct Chinese intonation and a glowing twinkle willing an impossible warmth, “We wish you all the happiness.” Her last sentiment was not without a mischievous glimmer, thus earning the embarrassed shrieks of the nearby star.
Nevertheless, as they sat on a plane departing back to Seoul, he spied their woven hands and breathed in all the surrounding warmth.
“How was your second visit to Shanghai?”
The younger mused over the events that occurred as soon as he set foot in the land of glimmering estates for the second time. The awkwardness was evident, for it was, unfortunately, one with Park Jisung’s characteristics but after an accidental confession blurted by the biggest gossip of NCT Dream, proclaiming that Zhong Chenle found Jisung’s awkwardness so undeniably cute and endearing—accompanied by the younger Chinese tackling his elder for his infuriating habit—Jisung’s physical unease appeared to wither, especially when he had the brightest star holding his hand.
The jitters were a different matter though, for although he had the luxury of meeting Chenle’s family, the elder brought home a friend during his first visit, not a lover. However, all of his anxieties appeared to fade in an immediate rate after they were greeted similarly akin to a welcoming ceremony. More bets appeared to have occurred after observing even Chenle’s uncles and cousins exchanging uncertain amounts of money. Despite that, however, Chenle’s grandfather greeted him with the same twinkle as the elder’s mother.
Jisung felt so warm, he knew he would cry sooner or later and he did eventually, causing the family to bring whatever comforts they could give.
“You’re surrounded by everything warm,” Jisung could only return, tracing the blushes that coated the elder’s cheeks, “You are everything warm, it seems unreal sometimes.”
Zhong Chenle released a shy giggle, peculiar to his usual display as a thundering stellar fancy but his smile dwindled into a look of concern, brushing his impossible warmth to the younger’s locks.
“Mark-hyung told me about a stupid thing you said,”
“Everything I say is stupid, so you have to be more specific,”
“That’s an example,” Chenle remarked, now cupping the younger’s face with his palms and of course, the boy always longing for warmth nestled in and embraced the relief, “You have to work on your self-love, Park Jisung. You have to understand that you’re worth everything in the world.”
Jisung frowned at the sudden judgment of his shortcomings. He knew, of course, that he had much to learn but bearing the thought that he had to go through it alone was a troubling notion. For although he could do it alone, he would very much like if he won't have to do it all on his own.
“Only me?”
“I’ll be with you,” the elder soothed, bringing their knitted hands to the younger’s line of sight, “holding your hand.”
“You’re a dream come true,” Park Jisung could only speak to the world, unable to contain the pressing surge of warmth that emits from the boy capable of bearing the heat of a million hearths. Chenle drew his big, big head to the younger's equally great head and allowed their temples to meet.
“Well, you’re my dream, Jisung-ssi, so I guess it’s my win.”
Park Jisung closed the distance in between, pressing the softest caress into the elder’s lips. The look of the elder was a sight to behold, especially when it was one of the few times Zhong Chenle was at a loss for words.
“That’s new,”
“And more to come too,”
“You’re such a dummy, Park Jisung,” the elder could only return before he pressed another lingering brush to the younger’s lips.
Their eyes met after a few exchanges, and Jisung spied the starlight that gleams along the elder’s heartening beams. The image immediately brought him to remember the sappy message that his Jeno-hyung once wrote for Jaemin and Renjun.
Above us, only stars. Below us, only stars. To all sides, only stars.
“Inside us, only stars,” Park Jisung finished aloud, causing the Chinese to look at him in confusion. The younger only pulled Chenle’s hands closer to his orbit and knitted the elder’s indescribable warmth with his. He had much to learn and much to live, with the inevitable rushes of sadness, anger, fear, disgust, surprise, and happiness to paint the innumerable hues of life, but Zhong Chenle would experience it with him as their hands, their hearts, and their souls are woven in between.
And thus, with a final brush, he breathed and sighed for he was now living his dream with the boy bearing the colors of everything sunlit beside him.