Work Text:
They always say no two snowflakes are alike, each one with their own markings that no other snowflake in existence would ever share. The ridges were carved differently, the light never hit them the same way, not even their sizes could truly compare.
Jeno had the same idea about stars that most people did about snowflakes.
People could argue with him, saying there are billions of stars out in the universe and it’s not possible for them to all be different. Most of them aren’t even alive anymore, yet we see them as bright as they once were when they were still living. Who’s two say that any two are alike?
Doyoung never believed in that kind of talk. It was talk by smaller humans that had a lot to learn about the world. He believed that nothing he did really matter in the grand scheme of things. That’s what led him to be reckless. He wanted to live, experience everything for himself, not listening to anyone that told him otherwise.
In a sense, both boys were naive.
Jeno believed that all stars were different, that snowflakes were all the same, and that people turned into space dust when their time on earth was up. Jeno was young and naive, seeing the good in the world and wanting to keep the good in its place.
Doyoung believed in rushes of adrenaline, in dancing in the rain, and that there was nothing beyond death. Doyoung was reckless and naive, painting his skin with colors that would stick with him until the day he died.
It funny how people who were so different, were so alike, even in ways they would never notice.
“Excuse me,” the boy shyly mumbled, keeping his eyes on the floor, “can I ask you a question?”
Doyoung looked up from his cup of coffee and eyed the younger boy. He recognized him almost immediately. He had given him a few dollars to pay for his coffee when he had run short. It took a bit of convincing but the other was immensely grateful. When the boy asked how he could repay him, Doyoung flashed him a smile and told him that seeing the other happy was payment enough. The grateful boy shook Doyoung’s hand and introduced himself as Jeno, wanting to at least offer his name as his only way of saying thanks.
Doyoung accepted it.
He was a handsome kid, defined features, strong statue, and eyes that curled into crescent moons. Doyoung ushered him to sit in the vacant seat in front of him, inviting his question to be out in the open.
“Do your tattoos wash off?”
Naive.
Completely and utterly naive.
Doyoung chuckled and took another sip of his bitter coffee. Leaning back in his seat, the older boy crossed his arms over his chest, unable to keep a smile off his face.
“Nope. I’m going to have them my entire life.”
Jeno leaned forward in his seat, finally locking eyes with the other. He’d never met someone with so many tattoos before. Even though they wouldn’t have enough time, Jeno wanted to ask him about each one. He wanted to ask about the colorful, censored tv screen that adorned his upper left arm. He wanted to ask about the single music note that was inked on the underside of his right wrist.
But, he mostly wanted to ask about the bunch of stars that raced up his left ring finger. They were almost invisible at a first glance. There were fifteen small stars that held spaces in between, spaces that Jeno wondered if they were for more.
“Even when you die?” Jeno could only ask one question. It’s all he had time for before he had to go.
“Yes,” Doyoung said, unfolding his arms and leaning a bit closer to the table, a bit closer to the kid. There was something about him Doyoung couldn’t put his finger on. A gleam in his eye of awe yet curiosity. He couldn’t help but notice how Jeno kept eyeing the ink that crawled its way up his finger.
Jeno paused, carefully thinking out his words in his head.
“When you’re space dust, your tattoos will become stars.” Doyoung eyed the boy, furrowing his eyebrows at the others ambiguous statement. He wanted him to stay and explain as much as Jeno wanted to stay and ask about his future stars but there wasn’t enough time.
A brown haired boy with a smile that could stop crowds poked his head through the coffee shop door and called for Jeno, saying they were going to be late if they stayed around any longer. Jeno muttered a goodbye, taking one last look at the ink that covered the reckless boy's skin, and left.
At that was it. The moment was over just like that.
Doyoung didn’t get his explanation.
Jeno never got to soothe his aching curiosity.
Doyoung had looked at the skies differently that night and every night that followed. With his reckless ways, he was going to give the sky at least a dozen stars one day.
So yes, they were both naive.
One boy believed in life and one boy believed in death.
Small moments change people. The tiniest of things in the day can make someone view something as small as coffee and as big as the universe differently.
This all asks the big question: who is truly more naive, the boy who sees ink as stars or the boy who sees happiness in dancing in the rain?
All snowflakes are different and no stars are the same.