Archive of Our Own

When he was younger, Youngjae always thought that writing to the dead was a stupid thing to do. He never believed in life after death, never believed in Heaven and all of that, so he never understood why people were so desperate to send letters to someone who wouldn’t be able to read them. He believed that when you die, you’re nothing left. You’re just an empty corpse. He believed that the right and logical thing to do was to just let go and move on with life. But how naïve was he.

It hit him the day his brother died. Yugyeom was never the type to socialise easily but he wasn’t an outcast either. He was just in his own world. He always used to say that he didn’t need friends, that his brother and parents were all he needed in his life. He ate well, slept well, always smiled at people, never complained. He was a happy kid. In appearance. That’s why when Youngjae found him in the shower, wrist open, bleeding to death, he understood. He understood the feeling of losing someone you love and the need to talk to them. Desperately. Because when someone dies, the ability to talk to them disappears too. The two brothers were inseparable. They were each other’s’ confident and best friend. They used to talk over the phone or via texts every day. Everytime they needed advices, or felt bad, or were in any kind of trouble. Now, Youngjae is alone, with no one to talk to.

That’s why he’s standing here, in front of a mailbox in the middle of a field, a letter in his hands. It’s been a year since Yugyeom died, and he couldn’t get over it. He couldn’t get rid of the need to talk to him again. He tried though. God, did he try. Pretend that he never existed. Pretend he was on vacation. Pretend he was studying overseas. The list goes on and on. But those illusions never last very long because the loneliness and the reality of his situation would always strike him at some point. Always in the middle of the night, when sleep would desert him. He would cry for hours at times. He would cry because he felt guilty and confused and mad. Why, he asked himself. Why would is brother leave him? Why didn’t he see the signs? Why wasn’t he there for him? Why, why, why.

So today, he decided to act on his pain. He was tired of being sad. He wanted to move on and feel again. He wrote a letter a couple of days ago. Thousandth of them, in fact. They were never good enough. Too cheesy, too sad, too painful to read, to write. He couldn’t find the right words, the right way to express his feelings, the right amount of things to say. It was always too much or not enough. But his last try was the best shot. It was short, not too greedy nor cheesy. It was simple. Straight to the point. He was simply talking to his brother after all. He didn’t need to be stressed by it. He just needed to imagine sitting in the kitchen, eating left overs, his brother mocking him. The words came out on their own. They were soft, funny, nostalgic. He talked about their parents. How their mom is slowly but surely getting better. How their father is killing himself at work in order to forget his pain. How he, Youngjae, the older brother, was dealing with the loose of his younger brother. It was hard, and brutal, but he was still breathing and that was what mattered.

What matters is that he’s still awake and active. What matters is that he will live, even though Yugyeom isn’t there anymore. He is going to live.

Slowly putting the letter in the mailbox, Youngjae wonders if the other people writing letters really believe that they are delivered. Or are they just, like him, trying to heal themselves by writing away the pain? The wind caresses his face and his hair lazily fall in front of his eyes. He sighs. It’s a beautiful day. Bright. Nice. He stays here for a couple of minutes, breathing the fresh air. He’s happy he did that. His chest feels a little less heavy now. When he looks up, there’s someone else near the mailbox. Another man. Tall. Black hair. Sharp face. Small eyes. They stare at each other for a second, not saying anything, before the unknown man comes nearer and opens the mailbox with a key he had around his neck.

Surprised, Youngjae doesn’t say anything at first. He just watches the man taking away the letters. Taking away the letters. When it hits him, he frowns.

“What are you doing?”

The other man doesn’t even look at him. It’s like he didn’t even hear him. Or he’s simply ignoring him, which is a possible theory too. Getting closer, he talks louder.

“What are you doing?” 

Stopping his movements, the man looks up at him. They’re the same height, Youngjae notices. His eyes are as sharp as his face. But the two moles just above one of his eyes soften his look. Standing face to face, they judge each other. Then, the man takes a step back and shows the letters he has in hand.

“I pick up letters”

Youngjae frowns. Is he taking him for an idiot? Not really liking the way this stranger is talking to him, he straightens his back.

“And why are you doing this?”
“That’s my job” responds the man, shrugging his shoulder, nonchalant.

Confused, Youngjae leans his face. His job? What kind of job is about picking up letters for dead people?

“Your job” he repeats, stupidly “Are you Gods’ courier or something?” he adds after a second, smiling a little.

Yugyeom used to believe in angels and ghosts. Telling stories about them. Youngjae didn’t. He was always too logical for that. Too rational. But he started to talk about them after his brother died. It kept him alive, inside.

“I am Heaven’s postman”

Closing the mailbox, the man turns over, walks away. Blinking, Youngjae doesn’t react right away. He looks at him for a second, then inside the mailbox. Empty. Gasping, he calls out the stranger, but the latter keeps walking, not bothering looking back. Youngjae starts to run after him. Calls him out again. Noticing he’s being followed, the other man throws is head back, sighing loudly.

“Don’t follow me” he says.
“Give me my letter back!”

Heaven’s postman. What a stupid thing to say. Who’s Heavens’ postman? Still running after him, Youngjae is determined to get his letter back. There’s no way he’s letting a stranger take it away. At least not in front of his eyes. Soon, they’re both running. Getting closer, Youngjae outstretches his harm, almost grabbing the other’s bag. But his foot gets stuck in a hole and a second later, he’s rolling on the ground, bringing the stranger with him. Groans are heard before silence comes back, tranquil. Confused, Youngjae blinks several times. Well, he didn’t see that coming. Right above him, the other man is looking down at him, breathless. He then gets up, making a face.

“I told you not to follow me”

His voice is low and rather calm compared to his tensed face. Getting up too, Youngjae cleans his shirt.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

But the stranger is not listening to him. He’s walking again. Following him right away, Youngjae grabs his arm and turns him over. Freeing himself, the other man unkindly glances at him.

“Don’t touch me”

The way he said those words makes him intimidating, almost scary. But Youngjae isn’t the type of person that back off that easily. Straightening his back, he shouts back.

“Give me my letter back”

Staring at him, the stranger studies his face, like he’s surprised that someone would talk back to him. Youngjae might seem nice and none aggressive, soft even, but his mind is the contrary. He knows how to take care of himself and is not impressed that easily. He will have that letter, in a way or another.

“If you didn’t want it to be delivered, why did you post it in the first place?”

Youngjae sighs. What he said, about being Heaven’s postman, can’t be true. This sort of things doesn’t exist. Never had. Never will.

“Don’t play with me” he says, serious.
“I am not the kind who plays”

Laughing coldly, Youngjae looks at the sky. This guy must be kidding him.

“So you want to make me believe that you’re really here to deliver those letters?”
“I don’t want to make you believe anything because I don’t care about what you think”

Youngjae stops him before he can take another step.

“Prove it”

Rolling his eyes, the stranger takes a step back. They’re both annoyed and neither of them wants to be the one backing off. Licking his lips, he glances at him for a moment.

“Close your eyes” he finally says, crossing his arms on his chest.
“What?”
“Close your eyes!”

Obeying slowly, Youngjae closes his eyes. The silence of the field, the wind on his ears helps him calm down a little.

“Count to three and look again”

Feeling like a kid, and not liking it, Youngjae counts. 1, 2, 3. When he opens his eyes, he’s alone.

**

You get used to the way people look at you when they know someone in your family died. Even worst when they know they took their own life. The pity in their eyes. The comments on their lips. They always have something to say, to explain, to emphasize. Youngjae doesn’t care anymore. It was hard at first. Hard to hear them talk about Yugyeom, hard to hear them console him, hard to face the looks. But as time passes, he learned how to detach himself from all of that. People can say and think whatever they want. He knows the truth, he knows who his brother was, he knows how to take care of his family. No need to listen to those who actually know nothing about this kind of issue.

What you don’t get used to in the other hand, is the way your parents look at you. Like they’re scared of you or scared to lose you too or full of too much love they don’t know what to do with. Youngjeas’ father doesn’t even look at him anymore. He doesn’t even acknowledge his existence when they’re in the same room. His mother, Jesus, his mother, she gives him love, so, so much love it hurts and overwhelms him. She’s so scared to lose him too that she doesn’t let go of him everytime he visits. She calls him often. Too often. It’s annoying, but he can’t blame her. She lost a child. No one can completely heal from that.

She wrote a letter too. Three, actually. She gave them to him one afternoon, with trembling hands, after he told her what he did. Since she couldn’t leave the house quite yet, she wanted him to deliver them for her. Youngjae stared at them for a second before taking them. He didn’t say anything. No words were needed to understand that his mother was trying so hard to be better but she was also so weak, so down. Talking to her dead son was a way of escaping, a way of healing, a way of letting go. With tears in his eyes that didn’t fall, he simply took her in his arm.

**

For the second time, he’s in front of the mail box. It’s been a week since his mother gave him the letters. He didn’t have time to post them before because he was busy with work. He also wanted to write another letter, but he couldn’t find the words again. So he just let go of the idea and went on the bus. Today is a gloomy day. It will rain tonight. He forgot his umbrella. Readjusting his jacket around his shoulder, he walks through the field. The wind plays with his hair, making them fly on top of his head. There’s someone at the mailbox, again. And looking at it, Youngjae recognizes the stranger. Heaven’s postman. Smiling to himself, he makes his way to him.

The other man watches him arrive, neutral expression on his face. They stare at each other for a few seconds before Youngjae gives him the letters. He still can’t comprehend what happened between them, how he could just disappear in front of his eyes, leaving him completely alone. He doesn’t want to believe in all this heaven thing but he also has to face the reality. The man vanished. No one can do that.

“Hi” he says, hands in his pockets.
“Hi” answers the stranger.

**

They’re sitting in a coffee shop, not far from the city. There’s no one here. It’s quiet, except for the wind, screaming. Youngjae watches the smoke coming out of his coffee, fading away in the air. Heaven’s postman is reading the letters in front of him, slowly drinking his coffee. Youngjae glances at him, watching the way his mouth moves with the words, the way his eyebrows frown sometimes, the way his shoulder relaxes. In another situation, if they had mate differently, he would have been attracted to him, he thinks. He would have tried to talk to him and have his shot. But the situation is way too confusing for that to happen. Taking a sip of his coffee, he looks out the window. Rain is falling now.

“Are you really Heaven’s postman?”

His question stays without answer. He turns to the man again and they stare at each other.

“I am” he finally answers.
“So… you’re like, a ghost?”

Youngjae feels stupid asking this but the need to know is stronger than his proud.

“You could say that”

Silence takes place again and they don’t say anything for a time. Youngjae watches the waitress walking around, cleaning already clean tables, ordering glasses and plates. He could ask her if she sees the man in front of him. He could ask her if he’s just some crazy customer who commands two drinks when he’s the only one sitting at the table. But he won’t. A letter is giving to him. Surprised, he looks up at the other man.

“Help me with my work”

He said that as if it was nothing. As if it was the simplest thing to do. But Youngjae doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do with this. He also feels uncomfortable reading such intimates letters. What if it makes him cry? Not that there’s something wrong in crying, not at all, but crying in front of someone is different. He glances at the paper in front of him. Takes it in his hands. Weights it. It’s like there’s nothing in his hands but a feeling, a sensation. It’s strange. But pleasing.

“What I am supposed to do?”
“Read it and if it’s a hateful one, throw it away”

Oh. There’s people out there, really writing hateful letters to someone who died. Frowning, Youngjae shakes his head. How mean can someone be to do such things? He will never understand. For an entire hour, they read letters. They’re all touching and intimate and once or twice, Youngjae had tears in his eyes. The desperation and loneliness some people put in their letters touched him deep down, made his heart shiver. The worst one, he believes, is this letter a father wrote to his daughter. It was so close to home he had to pause his lecture in order to keep himself together. Reading about a parent losing his child made him realise that this is probably how his own parents might feel right now. And he hates it. God, does he hate it.

“Your mother’s letters” says the other man “do you want to read them?”

Youngjae doesn’t respond right away. Does he want to know what his mother wrote? Yes. No. Maybe. He doesn’t know. He wants to know what his mother is thinking, what she feels, what she needs. But he’s certain that if he reads them, he’ll break. He’ll break and won’t be able to contain his tears. So, no. He won’t read them. He’s not ready yet.

“Another time”

Another hour later, they’re done reading the letters. They get up, leave the coffee shop. It’s still raining outside. Youngjae curses himself. What an idiot. He should have thought of bringing his umbrella. The stranger glances at him a second before he walks away. Youngjae stops him, suddenly shy.

“Will we see each other again?”

He doesn’t exactly know why, but he liked spending time with him. They barely talked, but his presence made him feel good, and soothed. He doesn’t have that many people like him in his life. All of his friends feel the need to always talk, be active, do things when he’s with them. As if they wanted to fill a potential emptiness in him. But sometimes, all you need is silence. All you need is someone to do nothing with. This man has been that for him today. He’s been the silence he needed. And he wants to feel that again.

“I don’t know”

They stare at each other, and Youngjae doesn’t let go of the arm he grabbed. Looking at the ground then at the man again, he takes a deep breathe.

“At least let me know your name”

Blinking, the man takes a step back. Youngjae let go of his arm.

“Jaebeom”

**

Youngjaes’ mom has been writing letters non-stop after the first three. It’s like she can’t stop anymore. She writes him letters every day, it seems. And Youngjae doesn’t. He thought he needed to write another letter, but it looks like one was enough. He’s talking to Yugyeom via their mother, and that’s enough for him. He still hadn’t read the letters. The more he has them in hand, the more he wants to know, but he’s not ready yet. Soon, he thinks. Soon, he’ll read them. But for now on, he just delivers them.

They meet again. Jaebeom and him. At the mailbox. They go to the coffee shop. They read letters. They do that for an entire month. Twice a week, when Youngjae isn’t too busy with work. They’re silent most of the time at first, but, little by little, they open up to each other. They read the letters at loud when they find it funny or cute or just beautiful. They open up about themselves. Even if they don’t talk about serious things, they still learn about one another. They learn to appreciate each other’s’ company. Youngjae never felt so calm before. As if Jaebeom had something in him that helped him, in some way.

Jaebeom as a cold appearance, no one can deny it. But when you break the glass, he’s actually warm, kind hearted. Not the kind to speak, more that acts. Show you his love by helping you in silence. Not that he loves Youngjae, but is affection had grown for him. His smile made him smile, his laugh made his stomach flutter, his happy expressions had him feeling at peace. It’s weird how a person you know so little about can make you feel better than anyone you’ve known for a long time. It’s as if they found each other, kind of. As if they were meant to be.

One afternoon, they’re sitting in the field, near the mail box. Someone left a full meal for their dead son. When Jaebum had pick it up and opened it, Youngjae shouted.

“Hey, you can’t eat that!”
“Why not? You can’t eat in the after-life and It would be a shame to let it rot here, right?”

Jaebeom was right, obviously, but Youngjae felt uncomfortable eating something that wasn’t made for him. Jaebum, on the other hand, didn’t care at all. Opening the lunch box, he leaded his arm to his mouth, an egg between his fingers.

“Eat it Youngjae, it won’t bite back”

Pouting, the young man still opened his mouth and ate the egg. They ate in silence, appreciating the warn day. Youngjae would glance at Jaebeom sometimes, watching him eat and smile to himself. He was beautiful, he thought. Really beautiful. Sometimes, he wouldn’t be able to detach is eyes from him. He would only look away when he was caught staring and Jaebeom would stare back everytime. It became a game of theirs. Who will stare the longest? Jaebeom would always win, of course, because his glare fluttered Youngjae the most.

After they finished eating, Jaebum leaned his head back and screamed in the air. Loudly. Youngjae, took by surprised, jumped and looked at him like he was crazy.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Saying thank you”

The smile on Jaebeoms’ face made him seem so much younger. So much freer. Youngjae stared at him, smiling a little.

“Your mother’s lunch was delicious Heechul, thank you for sharing!” then, turning to Youngjae “say thank you too”

Shy, the young man blinked. He never screamed like that before. It was intimidating. But the look in Jaebeoms’ eyes made him do it. Taking a deep breathe, he leaned his head back too.

“Thank you Heechul! We ate well!”

They laughed after this. Thinking about it, since Yugyeom died, Youngjae never truly felt happy again. But today, he felt good, more than good, for the first time in a while.

**

The day he takes his decision, it’s windy outside. Clouds surround him. It took him some time. Almost two months. But he made up his mind. He’s ready. Laying down in the grass, he looks at the sky above him. Jaebeom is next to him. Their hands almost touching.

“I want you to read my mother’s letter to me”

His voice is firm but he worries. Even if he says he’s ready, there’s still doubt in him. That’s why he asked Jaebeom to do it for him. It would be easier like that. Probably. Glancing at him for a second, Jaebeom nods. Slowly, he pulls out the letter and opens it. He reads it in silence at first. Youngjaes’ heart beats so fast it hurts but he wants to do that. He wants to know. He closes his eyes at the sound of Jaebeom voice.

“My dear Yugyeom. This will be my last letter. I feel better now that I had the chance to talk to you…”

My Dear Yugyeom,

This will be my last letter. I feel better now that I had the chance to talk to you. Explained things. Shared things I couldn’t share when you were alive.

I feel sad knowing that it’s the last time I will talk to you. Writing had help me much more than I expected. I wrote my first letter not really believing in what I was doing. I was full of doubts. I actually wrote so much more letters than what I send you. Letters that I will keep secret and will cherish for the rest of my life. Until the day I die and see you again, I will read them over and over again so that I will be able to share them with you once we’re reunited.

As I told you before, your brother is taking good care of me and will continue to do so, I know it. Even though he’s annoyed and mad at me sometimes, he always cares for me and helps me. He doesn’t take care of himself as much as I wish he did, but he’s still healthy, so I am happy. So don’t worry baby, we’re fine.

If you ever come visit us, please tell your brother to be well. He won’t listen to me, but I am certain he will listen to you. He always listens to you, even when he pretends not to.

I miss you very much. So, so, so much. But I am sure that you’re better up there. Happier. I am not mad at you. Again, I am just sad you never talked to me about your struggles. I would have done everything to help you. I would have fight for you. The decision you took, it broke my heart. But you are, and will always be, my son who I love more than everything in the world.

Take care of yourself my baby boy, and kiss grandma for me.

Love, your beloved mother

Tears are running down his face. He doesn’t stop them. He can’t. He can’t move nor talk nor stop whining. His mother’s words broke something in him. Something he buried so deep inside. But now, he let go. The pain he tried so hard to supress and forget gets out, vivid, brutal. He cries for a long time, not caring that Jaebeom is still here, sitting right next to him, keeping him company. Strangely, he doesn’t care that he’s seeing him like this. He’s rather happy that he has someone with him. He feels less alone. He’s glad he’s not talking, not trying to comfort him. He just lets him cry his pain out, because he probably knows that he needs to exhale again. But at some point, Youngjae feels the need to feel someone, be hugged. So he slightly turns to Jaebeom, leaning a little. He’s about to speak when arms are wrap around his shoulders. In a matter of seconds, Youngjae buries his head in Jaebeom neck and hugs him back. The warm of his body against his feels good.

They stay like this for some time. Jaebeom caresses his back, plays a little with his hair. The little acts have Youngjae calm down. Rubbing his eyes and cheeks, he gets out of his arms. The loose makes him shiver. Sniffing, he hesitantly glances at him. The other man is still looking at him. There’s nothing in his eyes other than understanding and some kind of affection, maybe. Youngjae can’t tell. They look at each other for a second before he breaks the silence.

“Thank you”

His voice is row from crying too much, but he doesn’t care. It’s weird, but he trusts him. It’s Jaebeom who intertwines their fingers. This simple contact makes his cheeks red and heart beating fast. He squeezes it in return, not letting go. His hand is soft, he thinks. And so are his eyes. Jaebeom stares at him, then stares at his lips for a second.

“Let’s go drink something. You need it”

**

They’re sitting at their usual table, in the coffee shop. Rain is slowly falling. Today, Youngjae took a hot chocolate. It was Yugyeom favorite beverage. Smiling down at his cup, he replays a memory of them, on Christmas Eve. Youngjae was ten at the time, he remembers. He was mocking his brother who dropped their meal when helping their mom. Yugyeom was crying so much that day. The most he ever saw him cry. Their dad gave him hot chocolate to comfort him and since then, he would always drink it when he felt sad or confused. Today is Youngjaes’ turn. Jaebeom is silently looking at him. Their feet are touching. Youngjae finally looks up.

“Is there anything else that you want?” asks Jaebeom.

Youngjae shakes his head. He doesn’t want anything other then that. Him and Jaebeom drinking together. That’s all he needs right now. And he secretly wishes it will continue for a long time.

“Do you want something else?” he wonders in return.
“Yes”
“What is it?”

Jaebeom stays silent for a moment. Emotions are traveling in his eyes but Youngjae can’t read them.

“To kiss you”

They stare at each other for a long time after that. Youngjaes’ heart is beating calmly. Rain has stopped falling.

**

Youngjae invited Jaebum to party with him. It’s been a long time since he didn’t go out and he kind of misses the atmosphere of clubs. Even though he’s not a fan of clubbing, he enjoys going there for time to time. It took him some convincing but Jaebeom finally accepted to go out with him. Since he doesn’t know well the city at night, he follows his instinct and goes to the first club he thinks will be suitable for both of them. They wait a little outside before entering. And right away, the hotness of the place hits them. They slowly make their way to the bar, holding hands so they would not lose each other.

“Do you want something to drink?” asks Youngjae, his head in his shoulder.
“I don’t drink” responds the other man.

Nodding, Youngjae makes his way in the centre of the place. He doesn’t drink either, so there’s no need to stay at the bar. Jaebeom doesn’t seem to relax before Youngjae smiles at him and starts dancing with him. He’s happy to be out again. He’s happy to live like a normal person again. He’s happy to not feel the pain anymore. He never thought that meeting Jaebeom would make him feel this way. Never thought that he would like a ghost. He forgets that sometimes. That Jaebeom isn’t really alive. But he prefers not to think about it. It hurts too much knowing that one day, he too will be gone.

They don’t stay in the club for long. An hour, maybe two. None of them checked the time. They live when they had enough of the hotness and messiness. They’re sweating and panting but happy. And sober. Not wanting to go home quite yet, Youngjae walks in the city’s’ street. Jaebum follows him. Their shoulders and arms touching. At some point, they stop to admire the scenery. From the bridge they’re on, they can see all the lights and traffic. Night life always fascinated Youngjae. Some people live it. They buy, work, travel, meet. It’s kind of crazy to him and sometimes he wishes he was one of them. He always wondered what it would be like to be part of this world.

Glancing at Jaebeom, he admires his side profile. He’s one of the most beautiful person he ever met. He wonders. Was Jaebeom part of the night? Was he living when he was sleeping? There’s a void in him that he wants to fill, but he doesn’t dare ask questions. Looking down at the water, he smiles a little.

“The other day you said you wanted to kiss me”

Jaebeom turns his eyes to him at the words. They never talked about that since he confessed he wanted to do it. Youngjae didn’t know what to respond to that. Didn’t know if he was ready to kiss him yet. He wanted it though, since the first time he saw him, but wanting and doing are two different things. But he’s been thinking about it. A lot. And now he thinks he’s ready.

“I didn’t answer that time”
“You didn’t”

Looking up at him, he looks into his eyes. Those beautiful narrow eyes.

“I am giving you an answer now”

He straightens his back, faces him. Their bodies are close. Their eyes wild open. Their breath heavy.

“I want to kiss you too”

And it’s as if time had stop. As if cars weren’t passing near them. As if a bubble was created around them. Blinking, Youngjae watches Jaebeom cupping his face in his hands and leaning over him. It’s a small kiss at first. Very soft. Very gentle. They taste their mouths, their needs, their desires. It’s been so long since Youngjae has been kissed. Let alone kissed like this. It makes his body shiver. The tenderness he feels from Jaebeom overwhelms him a bit. He didn’t expect that from him. As they deepen the kiss, Youngjae grabs Jaebums’ waist, putting him closer. Their tongues meet and slowly play together. Pushed against the edge, Youngjae groans softly. He’s getting out of breath but he can’t let go of Jaebeom lips yet. He wants more. More, way more. He wants to lose himself on the others’ arm and grip. He wants to feel his hands on him. His lips on him. He wants to feel the tenderness of his fingers on his skin.

Breaking free, they push their foreheads against each other’s. Jaebeom thumb is writing circles on his neck and he loves it. He loves the sensation of his fingertips. Kissing him again, he thinks that this moment will forever be one of his most precious memory.

**

Youngjae turns 24 today. It’s a beautiful day. Windy but bright. He didn’t want to stay at the coffee shop so he proposed to go to the ocean. It’s been so long since he saw it and he wanted to feel the waves on his feet again and smell the salty atmosphere. Jaebeom hesitated at first, but he couldn’t resist Youngjaes’ suppliant face for long. So they took the bus and went on an adventure. Youngjae feels like a child. He’s so excited to be out there once more. Holding Jaebeoms’ hand, he looks out the window, following the threes’ movements.

The weather is a little worst on the coast, but they don’t care. All they want is the ocean and the waves and the sensation of the sand under their feet. Leisurely, they walk to their destination. The wind makes their hair fly above their heads. That makes them laugh. Patting Youngjaes’ hair, Jaebeom tries to order them, but it’s a lost cause. Smiling to each other, they take off their shoes and walk on the sand. They’re no one except them here. It feels like a dream. They’re inside their own world and it’s pure and delicate and childish. Running to the water, Youngjae sighs deeply when the waves cover his bare feet. He closes his eyes, leaning his head back. He’s happy. The happiest he’s been in month. And he doesn’t want to let go of that feeling. He turns back to Jaebeom, hand out, like he wanted to grab him.

“Jae, come…”

But the words get blocked in his throat. Jaebeom isn’t there anymore. Blinking, Youngjae starts walking towards the place he last saw him. His heart beats faster and it almost hurt him. His eyes are looking everywhere. He calls out his name. Once. Twice. It gets hard to breath, suddenly, and his hands are shaking and he doesn’t understand what is happening. Where is he? Where is Jaebeom? Where did he go? Why did he go? Was he gone for real?

Youngjae doesn’t feel happy anymore. He hates happiness, he decides, running to the bus station. He hates that feeling. He hates it because it always goes away at the least expected moment and he doesn’t want to feel the disappointment ever again.

As he reaches the bus station, he stops. Jaebeom is here, looking at him weird. Youngjae feels like falling on his knees but he doesn’t. He stays stand, arms and hands and entire body shaking. He stares at Jaebeom for a long moment before he can walk again. When he’s close enough, he grabs his coat.

“Back there” he breathes “I couldn’t see you anymore. Why?”

Jaebeom looks sad, Youngjae notices. He never looks sad. Smiling coldly, he takes a step back. But Youngjae doesn’t let go of him.

“I appear to people who’ve lost a loved one. Someone who doesn’t know grief can’t see me”

Frowning, Youngjae shakes his head. What he’s saying doesn’t make any sense.

“I know grief, yet I couldn’t see you”
“That’s because you’re starting to move on”

Air doesn’t enter his lungs anymore. His mind goes blind. What is he trying to say?

“If I move on completely, you’ll disappear, is that it?”

Please, say no. Please, please, please, say no. This can’t be happening. This can’t be real. No. He needs him. He needs him around, he needs him holding his hand, he needs him gently kissing his neck, he needs him to keep him company at night, when he can’t sleep. He needs him around for the rest of his life.

“I don’t want to move on then” he whispers, eyes on the ground “even though it means I’ll always feel the pain of my brothers’ death”

Jaebum takes another step back. Youngjae let go of hi coat. He’s not shaking anymore. He made up his mind.

“You can’t” Jaebums’ voice brakes a little.

Youngjae closes his eyes. He never saw him like that before. Never would have imagined that he would ever see him like that.

“I can!” he says, looking into his eyes
“But why?”
“Because I like you!” he shouts, out of breath “I more than like you!”

A single tear falls down Jaebeoms’ cheek. He doesn’t try to get rid of it. He looks at Youngjae like he’s the most precious, stupid thing he ever met. And maybe he is. Maybe he is the most precious, stupid thing he ever met and it hurts. It hurts so much to know that they will be separated, in the end. They will be moving on without each other. And there’s nothing either of them can do about it. Because this is their story. This is not a fairytal. Youngjae gets that now. This is nothing like the good, happy story love is supposed to be. It’s just sad and fairless.

Love, he thinks, hurts you in the most painful way. It takes away the person you love and makes you face reality when it’s gone. The reality that they will continue to live without you. Like you never existed.

It hurts you even more than death.

**

Youngjae,

My work here is done. I am not coming back. And that means we won’t see each other again.

I should have told you that my time here was limited, but I was too selfish to do that. I didn’t want to think about it when I was with you. So I am writing a letter.

I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for the moments we shared, thank you for making me laugh, thank you for loving me. I never thought I would ever be loved, or be able to love, but you changed my mind. You changed me, as ridiculously cliché as it sounds. But it’s true. You made me discover another world, another way, and I am grateful for that.

There’s so many things I wish I could change, but can’t. I wish we had more time. I wish I had more time. I wish I was a better person to you. A better lover. I wish we had met when I was alive. I am sure you would have hated me, thought. I was too obscure for your light. I suppose. Too self-centred, immature, selfish, arrogant. I was also careless and that’s what had me in this position. So don’t drive too fast, alright?

But I would have loved you regardless. I would have admired you and laugh everytime you laugh and smiled at you when you wouldn’t look. I would have done all of this again. Because it’s impossible not to love you. To admire you.

I was happy with you, even when I didn’t show it. But believe me. I was. I felt a lot of different emotions with you and I will cherish them for as long as I can. Because if I am ever coming back, I am scared I won’t remember anything. I am scared I won’t be able to remember you.

So I choose to let a letter behind me because I didn’t want to leave you without saying anything. I didn’t want to hurt you more if we ever pass each other again.

Thank you, Youngjae. Thank you

Jaebeom

PS: Sorry for being a coward and not saying those words when I had the chance. But I am saying them now. I love you.

This letter is all that’s left of Jaebeom. It’s all Youngjae has to remember him. That’s all he can hold on to in order to know that all of this was real. That Jaebeom has been real. To him.

They had another month together after the bus station event. A very weird month. Full of love and pain mixed together. Because Youngjae was moving on from his brothers’ death, which meant Jaebeom would be gone soon. It was inevitable. And that’s what happened. One day, he simply didn’t show up at the coffee shop. Nor at the mail box. Nor anywhere they went together during their five months of relationship. He was gone, like the most natural thing. Youngjae didn’t cry. He stayed neutral but deep inside, his heart broke. Once again. And this time, he didn’t know if he would ever get the missing pieces back.

**

God has a funny way of making your wishes come true. Maybe he likes to play with them, with us, human. Maybe he enjoys seeing us struggle and lose hope. But maybe he also does that on purpose. Maybe the surprise we feel, the happiness, the euphoria, is all part of his plane. Maybe he wants us to feel it deep, deep down inside. Because when our wishes become real, there’s nothing better. Nothing can be compared to that.

Youngjae couldn’t believe it when he saw him again. Jaebeom. He saw him in the coffee shop they used to go when he was a ghost. He was sitting at their usual table, reading a book. After three months of absence, he was back again. How, why, for how long, he didn’t know, and didn’t want any answers. Swallowing, he walked to him in silence. He wanted to say something, anything, but words wouldn’t come out. They were stuck in his throat. Jaebeom looked up at him, surprised, maybe a bit annoyed that someone interrupted him in his reading.

“Can I help you?”

His voice was the same. Low and slow. His eyes were the same too. But he didn’t remember him, apparently. Like he said. Was he still a ghost, or did he come back human, Youngjae couldn’t tell, but he didn’t really care. He only cared about the fact that he was back. Jaebeom was back and sitting in front of him, just like before. And the pain he felt knowing that he forgot about him was nothing compared to the happiness inside of his heart. He was willing to suffer over and over again if it meant to be loved by him each time.

“Can I sit here?”

Raising an eyebrow, Jaebeom looked at the place. At the empty tables. At Youngjae again. He nodded then, watching him as he sat down. Youngjae couldn’t stop staring at him. The man he loved so much was sitting here. The man he loved forgot about him.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Youngjae shook his head. No, he didn’t have anything on his face. Nothing except the two moles he loved so much, and those narrow eyes and this closed expression. It was so familiar it hurt and he wanted to cry but he didn’t. He simply sat there, drank is coffee and learned about him once more.

Because he had a new goal in life. He would make him fall in love with him again.