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Crisp air cools the sweat on the back of Namsoon’s neck and shivers run down his arms. At the sudden jerk of his shoulders, Heungsoo peers over at him from under the heavy fringe of his hair. Namsoon thinks the taller boy needs a haircut, and has told him as much, but Heungsoo doesn’t think much of his opinion on that subject.
“What’s wrong with you?”
Namsoon jerks his eyes back to the side that his friend isn’t on. “Nothing. It’s getting cold, though. We should go inside.”
“Inside, where?” Heungsoo raises his eyebrows although they’re hidden under his mass of hair. He scuffs his shoes on the sidewalk, finishing up the drink he bought himself from the convenience store to their rear. They’ve been spending the day walking around the city, but the weather has taken a turn, inside sounding like a better option than outside.
“I don’t know. My house? Or yours?”
“Yours.”
Namsoon forces down his smile. As straight-faced as he can get, Namsoon agrees. “Alright. That’s fine.”
Heungsoo walks forward so he’s back in Namsoon’s line of sight, and takes a sip of his drink. He tips his head back, and Namsoon watches the sticky soda slip down the side of his mouth and to his chin. His mouth goes dry.
Heungsoo pulls away from the can, smiling. “Alright, then. Let’s go.”
“Y–Yeah.” The stutter is hardly noticeable, Namsoon hopes, and he follows Heungsoo as they start to walk in the direction of Namsoon’s home.
After everything that’s happened lately, Namsoon can’t believe Heungsoo’s back here –– with him. It’s something that he’s hoped would happen for so long that it feels less than real now. Even with Heungsoo not even two feet away.
“Hey,” Heungsoo calls back to him while slinging his empty can into a public garbage can. “You always so slow?”
“I’m taking my time.” Namsoon can’t hide his smile now. “I’m admiring the view.”
Heungsoo whips his head around so fast that it’s comical. Namsoon expects him to quip something back, something stupid, but instead he says, “Last one to your house loses.” He starts to sprint, and Namsoon’s caught off-guard.
“Cheater!”
But as the wind whips through Namsoon’s hair, legs stretching to keep up with his best friend, he’s reminded of a similar setting, things that took place a long time ago. It feels like a different life compared to now. The pages of the story flip backwards and his mind takes him to back then –– back when things weren’t so serious. Or maybe they were serious; maybe Namsoon just didn’t realize.
A sidewalk like this one, is where Namsoon was racing after Heungsoo, years and months ago.
Namsoon laughs into the air, breathing in the scent of spring and exhaling the stale air of winter. His long legs allow him to easily pass up Heungsoo, and the other boy cries out in annoyance. “Hey!”
Namsoon looks back at him. “Get a little faster, will ya?”
Heungsoo scowls and pumps his arms faster, trying to catch up. They both can hear the shouts of the neighborhood boys behind them, and it’s their fuel to keep running. When they’re finally spent, the kids end up dropping down behind a storage shed still in the suburbs of the city. Their tiny chests are heaving, but both are smiling at another knowing that they’ve out run the rest.
“My mom’s not gonna be happy.”
Namsoon shakes his head at Heungsoo. “You’re such a baby.” He picks up a small rock from the ground and starts to scratch his name into the dirt.
Heungsoo jabs him in the shoulder. “I’m serious. I was supposed to clean my room.”
“And I’m serious. You’re mom freaks out, so what?” Heungsoo makes a face. “But, on the bright side, you’re here now.”
“Yeah, because of you.” Heungsoo reaches out and takes a swipe at Namsoon’s fluffy head. “Why’d you have to make them mad?”
Namsoon shrugs. It wasn’t really his fault. Some people shouldn’t be so sensitive. “I just told them what I thought of them.”
“Calling someone names doesn’t really––”
“Besides,” Namsoon looks at Heungsoo and stands up. “They were being shits first.” Heungsoo’s the first to look away, re-tying his shoe as an excuse to not stare at Namsoon. Namsoon presses the issue. “How’s your arm?”
“Fine.”
“Did they push you around? You know, you can’t let them do that. You gotta––”
“Yeah, yeah.” Heungsoo stands up, a deep frown on his face. “I get it.”
“Good.”
Heungsoo looks over at Namsoon. His frown lessens a bit. “You think you’re great just because you can do all that?” Heungsoo steps in a little closer.
The day is half over; there’s little shade to escape from the heat, and the two boys are huddled under the tiny amount that’s offered by the shed’s roof. Namsoon doesn’t move away as Heungsoo gets closer.
“You’re just a middle-schooler,” Heungsoo reminds him. “There are a lot of bigger kids than you out there.” His frown is almost completely gone now.
“Wait awhile. I’ll get there.”
Heungsoo rolls his eyes, but he’s standing very close now, and Namsoon still has no urge to back up. “So, soccer.” He looks up because Heungsoo’s always been taller. “You’re trying out?”
“You have to ask?”
Namsoon shuts the door behind them. “You lost,” Heungsoo laughs. “Get ready to pay.” They both shuck their shoes off at the door, and the house is quiet so Heungsoo’s low voice sounds louder than normal. Namsoon’s father isn’t home, but that doesn’t mean much. Just an empty house to come home to.
But when he looks up to see Heungsoo smirking at him, he finds that it’s different to come home to no one and to come home with no one. It doesn’t take much to admit to himself that he’d rather bring home Heungsoo than open the door to find that his father’s drunk himself stupid.
Namsoon throws his hands up in defeat. “Okay, okay, what’s the punishment?”
Heungsoo shrugs and makes a disinterested face. He’s very dramatic. With the shove of his hands into his pockets, Heungsoo announces, “I don’t know. Lemme think on it.”
This is all new to Namsoon. As much as he hoped to get Heungsoo back, he never expected it, and they’ve sorted themselves out; they mean to stick together now, but Namsoon still feels like he’s tip-toeing. He wonders if it’s the same for Heungsoo.
But maybe it’s not. Heungsoo flings Namsoon’s door open –– he’s probably got the entire layout of the house printed on the backs of his eyelids; blindfolded he could probably find the spare bar of soap in the bathroom and the box on the top shelf of Namsoon’s closet that holds some of his mother’s stuff.
Anyway, Heungsoo looks at home on the floor, and, it’s his house, but Namsoon feels like he’s the guest, standing at the door, not knowing what to do with himself. His eyes linger on Heungsoo’s open mouth, but he jerks his gaze away when he realizes he’s staring.
“Well, sit down.” Heungsoo’s got his eyes closed, arms tucked behind his head. Namsoon’s reminded of the kid that Heungsoo used to be, that he used to be, and he blinks those thoughts away. They’ve changed since then, but, at the same time, nothing has. They still like to sit on the floor and snarf down snacks and get lost in comic books.
A socked foot smacks Namsoon in the leg. “Hey.”
Heungsoo’s eyes are now open and doing the weird intense thing they do. “What’s wrong with you today?”
Namsoon makes a face. “Nothing. What’s wrong with you?”
Pursing his lips, Heungsoo drops it. “Did you, uh, read the new chapter of…” Heungsoo’s wiggling his feet around as he talks, and Namsoon can’t hear anything.
Namsoon pecks Heungsoo on the lips before either can react to it. It’s gone by too fast for Namsoon to take it back, and Heungsoo’s staring at him with big, guarded eyes.
Heungsoo stands there in his soccer uniform, grass stains on his knees, and sweat dripping from his forehead into his eyes. He doesn’t smell good at all, and Namsoon doesn’t know what he just did. They’re the only ones outside the locker rooms, but even so, anyone could have walked past and…. Shit. “What did––”
But Namsoon’s back-pedaling faster than he put his lips on his friend. It was a split-second decision –– a hit or miss. By the expression on Heungsoo’s face, it seems like Namsoon missed pretty good, and this is bad. Terrible. Namsoon keeps backing up. He says bye before they’ve barely said hello, and he’s running.
Heungsoo’s on him before Namsoon can clear the stadium. Hands grab Namsoon, and he curses Heungsoo and how fast he’s gotten. Heungsoo digs his heels into the ground, and Namsoon’s forced to stop in his tracks and face what he’s started. Heungsoo’s got those eyes on him, color in his cheeks, and for a split second Namsoon wonders if it’s not because of their running. Because of….
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
Heungsoo narrows his eyes. There are parents and other players milling around them, so both are using hushed voices. They both know exactly what “that” was. Namsoon feels his lips tremble a bit, and in the steadiest voice he can manage he declares, “Don’t expect it to happen again.” He can salvage this.
Heungsoo cocks his head to the side, releasing the hold on his friend.
“I don’t––”
“Are you coming over tonight?”
“What?”
“I asked, are you coming over tonight?”
“Ye– I guess, yeah?”
Heungsoo takes a step backward. “That’s good. It’s gotten pretty boring around my house.” Heungsoo’s standing there empty-handed, meaning he dropped his duffel bag and backpack somewhere back there to come running after Namsoon.
Namsoon can’t believe this. But if Heungsoo’s pretending like it hasn’t happened then he will, too. The feelings have been creeping up on him for awhile now; he sometimes wonders why exactly he feels the way he does, but sometimes a reason isn’t needed. Or perhaps there is a reason, and he just hasn’t found it yet.
A month later, it’s Heungsoo who’s got him chest-to-chest in a hug that lasts longer than anything appropriate for friends, and Namsoon knows exactly what it means. It’s just Heungsoo’s way of saying that it’s okay.
They’re never blatant about it. Namsoon never puts his lips back on Heungsoo, and Heungsoo never reciprocates that action, but aside from a few more-than-friendly touches between them, everything’s the same. Namsoon can see the questions in Heungsoo’s eyes at times, asking to talk about this, but Namsoon pretends he can’t see them.
He’d rather not put a label on what they have, and he just wants Heungsoo in any way he can get.
He wonders what the guys would say if they found out about them. They’re not obvious, but anyone can see that they’re close. There’s already been a few jokes, and Namsoon hopes it stays like that. Harmless. But Namsoon makes sure to watch himself.
“Coach says I have to quit with you guys if I wanna go professional.”
Namsoon stops eating his ramen. Across the table from him sits his best friend, the only boy –– no –– the only person he’s ever liked, and his heart seizes up. “Like, wait, what do you mean?”
Heungsoo shrugs, like this isn’t a big deal. “I want to be a soccer player. Anyway, isn’t this all a bit…tiresome?” He raises an eyebrow. Like he wasn’t just laughing with the rest of them the night before, running around the city. Like it’s suddenly beneath him.
Namsoon jabs at his noodles with his chopsticks, twirling them around his bowl. “No? I mean….” He bites his tongue to stop the words from coming out. It’s like Heungsoo’s saying Namsoon’s beneath him, and it’s not true but it feels that way.
Heungsoo keeps talking like Namsoon never spoke up. “That’s what I want to do, though. But I wanted to tell you first before the other guys.”
Namsoon’s staring straight down at his bowl, so he doesn’t see Heungsoo poke at the back of his hand before he feels it. “And I know, if it were you, you’d tell me first.”
But the problem is that Namsoon wouldn’t be quitting. He wouldn’t be…be leaving. Heungsoo always talked about soccer like it was some sort of dream come true, but it never seemed that serious. In Namsoon’s mind, he sees Heungsoo playing soccer on a big field in front of thousands of people, and he sees himself looking after his father. Or worse, doing the same thing he’s doing now except at age twenty, thirty, forty.
A fear takes hold of him, and he shrinks into himself although Heungsoo’s staring straight at him. He licks his lips. “They probably won’t like the sound of that.”
“What?”
“They won’t let you go easy.”
“I know that.”
Namsoon sees the seriousness in his friend’s face, and the fear only increases. The restaurant feels too small; everything feels too small. This table, the distance to home, the space between the end of tonight and the beginning of tomorrow. And despite all that, he wishes he was closer to Heungsoo.
The ramen goes cold.
“I’ve decided.”
Namsoon rolls his eyes. “And what is that?”
“Your punishment shall be….” He stares at Namsoon, still lying on the floor, and announces, “Stand and balance on one foot and say I’m the best three times fast.”
“That’s weak.”
“Fine, then c’mere.” Namsoon plops down on his floor, wary of Heungsoo. At his apprehension, Heungsoo grabs Namsoon’s knees and pulls him forward so the two are touching, sitting face-to-face. “Close your eyes.” He’s holding up his first two fingers to flick his forehead.
“You’re doing this?”
“You asked for it. Don’t be such a baby.”
Namsoon smiles and shuts his eyes tight. “Alright but don’t do it too hard. I bruise easily.”
“Shut up.”
“Gotta protect the face, man.”
Namsoon waits in anticipation, waiting for the pain to spread through his forehead, and he’s at the mercy of Heungsoo’s fingers. The seconds stretch on. He knows Heungsoo’s making him wait on purpose, but when it’s close to a minute with his eyes closed, Namsoon’s starting to wonder what gives.
The pain never comes.
It was an accident. His foot slipped. Namsoon pulls at his hair, feeling his throat catch on unshed tears. He’s holding them back, and they’re about to break forth. But it was an accident.
The boys hadn’t been eager to let Heungsoo go, and Namsoon was part of the ones to delve out the punishment. It was expected. Even Heungsoo knew it would happen. What wasn’t expected was the amount of anger, the amount of hurt Namsoon put into it.
He’s your friend, Namsoon tried to tell himself. But that wasn’t enough, and he lost it. His kicks turned vicious; he turned every ugly thing inside of himself into something much worse, and Heungsoo was the punching bag.
“My foot slipped,” he tells himself in the quiet. “I didn’t mean to.” He never expected it to go that far. He never expected to lose control. Namsoon runs the whole way to the hospital despite that he was one of the first to run when they realized Heungsoo was seriously hurt. It was cowardice that let him flee the scene. Things weren’t supposed to turn out this way.
The hospital comes up fast, and it’s by chance that Namsoon looks up. It’s by chance that his eyes catch another pair of eyes that are peering out at him. Eyes that turn livid, furious. Hurt flashes in them, and Namsoon knows he’s messed up. He wants to make this right.
Heungsoo presses against the glass, a warning glare etched into his face. Namsoon doesn’t have to hear him to know that he’s saying, “Don’t you dare.”
The hitch in Namsoon’s throat only gets worse, and instead of fixing this, he takes a step backward. It seems like he’s lost the thing that he’s wanted to keep close, and cowardice once again works its way into him. He takes more steps, Heungsoo’s betrayed face the only thing on his mind, and finally turns his back.
That’s how they end.
And they’ve found each other again.
The plush of Namsoon’s lips are met with Heungsoo’s, and the taller presses his lips in a little harder when Namsoon doesn’t immediately respond. But soon Namsoon realizes what’s happened, and his eyes fly wide open. They break apart; Heungsoo just looks smug, and Namsoon doesn’t like that at all.
“What was that?”
“What was what?”
Namsoon clears his throat, his cheeks burning embarrassingly so. “Don’t mess with me.”
Heungsoo sighs loudly, falling back onto the floor. He combs his fingers through his dark hair. “Who said I was messing?”
Namsoon’s heart is leaping in his chest. “Don’t…don’t make me think that you….” Namsoon can’t bring himself to finish. He may have gotten Heungsoo back as a friend, but he didn’t expect they’d ever come back to this. Not that there was much to come back to.
Heungsoo throws himself back into a sitting position, his face very close and his ridiculous eyes staring into Namsoon’s. “If it’s alright with you,” he says slowly, “then it’s alright with me.”
Heungsoo waits for some sort of response from the other boy, and Namsoon can only try to control his breathing. He feels apologies that he’s already repeated a thousand times perched on his lips, and he knows Heungsoo doesn’t want to hear them, but–– “I’m sorry. Back then, I was wrong. I didn’t want anything that happened to happen, and I,” he takes a breath, “I’m so sorry.”
Heungsoo’s face clouds over.
“You’re important.” Heungsoo knows. He knows damn well how Namsoon feels, and Namsoon’s not sure why he’s bringing all this back up. “I’ve said it before, but I’m serious.” He licks at his lips, not noticing the way Heungsoo’s eyes momentarily watch. “I’m so serious about this, and if you’re not, then…please, don’t.”
“Why would I joke?” Heungsoo juts his chin out. “What reason do I have to do that?”
Namsoon blinks. “I don’t know; I’m saying––”
Heungsoo cuts him off by fitting their lips back together, and this time Namsoon doesn’t interrupt. His lips tingle this time, no longer numbed from the first kiss, and kissing Heungsoo is something he’s wanted to do again ever since after the soccer game. He moves forward so there isn’t so much space between them, and he feels Heungsoo’s hand move to his jaw. And this feels nice.
Perhaps it’s always been Heungsoo because, well, he’s been the one to care. Even when they were younger and Namsoon was stupid, Heungsoo was there. He should have never stopped fighting for Heungsoo. He should have tried harder. He should have been the one to run into the hospital and take the words he needed to hear.
“Sorry,” Namsoon apologizes again when Heungsoo’s got his mouth on his neck, “for being late.” It comes out raspy and definitely not composed, but they’re both late and this is very overdue. All of this.
Heungsoo reaches up and grabs Namsoon’s shoulders, murmuring into his skin. “Say sorry…again…and I’ll stop.”
Namsoon laughs and curls his fingers into Heungsoo’s hair –– coarse strands but thick enough to get lost in. He tugs Heungsoo’s mouth away from his neck for a second, and plants a proper kiss back on Heungsoo’s lips.
They’re both breathing hard and heavy, and the two stop for a moment, resting their foreheads together to catch a quick breath. Namsoon, holding onto the fabric of Heungsoo’s shirt, doesn’t loosen his grip any. He’s got him, and this time he’ll be damned if he screws this up. “I promise. I’m not gonna mess up this time.”
Heungsoo just nods his head.
“I mean it.”
And between the gasps for air, Heungsoo asks, “Do you want ramen later?”
Namsoon only holds Heungsoo tighter, and maybe nothing’s different at all.