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Yoo Kihyun’s greatest fear is that night will one day still and refuse to give way to dawn, leaving the world shrouded in darkness and him left alone.
Of course that never happens. The sun rises as it always does and his world, as always, fades.
But not before growing momentarily brighter.
Kihyun shivers, trying to burrow deeper into his winter coat, and tucks his nose into the plush red fabric of his scarf. He tries to pull the sleeves of his sweater over his numb fingers and knows to passerby he probably seems a bit odd, sitting on a hill overlooking the Han River before dawn in the middle of winter. He doesn’t mind. Anyone that passes by enough will recognize he does this every day. And anyone that passes close enough will realize soon enough that he won’t be alone.
Kihyun’s eyes stray to the horizon, watching expectantly. He feels tired, more than just worn from a long night but… listless. Weighed down. As if all of the energy has been stripped from his bones. The closer the sun gets, the further he feels from his body. From the way the sky is beginning to lighten, the way a sliver of molten gold cracks the horizon, he knows how quickly the time approaches. He checks his watch, eyeing the dial impatiently as his lips set into a frown.
And then he’s not alone.
There’s weight on his shoulder, a cheek resting there affectionately, and he doesn’t even have to glance to picture Hoseok in his mind. He does so regardless, peering down over his nose at the boy nestled there. His eyes are closed, face at peace, lips arranged into a soft pout as he exhales, sighs a bit sleepily. A second elapses and his eyes flutter open, a spark of molten gold (of sunlight) exploding in the darkness of his pupils. He looks up at Kihyun, a faint smile finding his lips as he becomes more solid. The flare of light in his eyes dies down.
“Hello, my love,” Hoseok purrs warmly, if not a bit sleepily. It’s a bit cheeky, as well. It’s not one of his usual nicknames for Kihyun.
Kihyun sets his lips into a frown and he looks away, looking back over the glassy river before them.
“You’re late,” he says simply, sounding a bit terse and Hoseok frowns, straightening as he tries to work a crick out of his neck and the sleep from his eyes.
“That’s impossible and you know it. When the sun appears, so do I,” he responds, drawing his knees to his chest as he pretends to stare out across the water as well. When Kihyun steals a glance at him, he catches Hoseok stealing a glance at him as well and can’t bite back the twitch of a smile on his lips. Suddenly the world doesn’t feel nearly as cold.
“You’re just impatient,” Hoseok adds and it’s clear now that he’s teasing and Kihyun’s face tilts down, trying to hide the grin on his lips in the deep shadows cast by the moon that still hangs brightly above their heads, coming and going at the mercy of the morning’s dark, low lying clouds.
“Aren’t you?”
Hoseok can’t help but smile broadly at that, a laugh bubbling up from deep within his chest.
“Of course,” he admits softly, “I missed you.’
And no matter how many times he hears it, everytime Hoseok says something simple as “I missed you”, Kihyun is left in awe. Left in awe that the man beside him even thinks of him. That the man at his side even loves him as much as Kihyun dares to love him in return.
“...I missed you too.” Kihyun returns, though it’s shounded in an almost innocent shyness. And that has Hoseok laughing again, pressing a quick kiss to Kihyun’s shoulder before he reclines his head against it once more.
“Did you have a good night,” he asks easily, conversationally, and Kihun is stuck by how comfortable he feels with Hoseok. He has always felt a sense of safety, of home. To him, Hoseok is his home no matter what the universe might try to tell them.
“Mmhmm” Kihyun replies, almost hesitant to break the silence with his voice. Everything feels so perfect, so absolutely perfect. And even if he had elaborated… what was there to say? His nights were very much like Hoseok’s days. As a moon spirit, he is a bit like… a chaperone. He keeps an eye on mankind and wandering souls, but does his best not to get involved.
He is a watcher. As is Hoseok.
“It was... lonely.” Kihyun finally comments and he isn’t looking at Hoseok, knees to his chest, one arm folded across them and and his chin resting on it. His free arm just hangs, and occasionally he picks at the grass they sit on.
That hurts Hoseoks’s heart more than he thought possible. And with the pain comes guilt, even though he knows their fates are something he has absolutely no control over.
“I’m sorry you were lonely,” Hoseok breathes out quickly, at a bit of a loss, and when Kihyun glances over it’s his turn to feel guilty. Hoseok’s lips are set into a soft frown and his eyes are on the ground as he subconsciously shreds a few blades of grass as well, hands fumbling for something to do.
Suddenly there’s movement and Kihyun shifts, scooting so he can now kneel before Hoseok, peering up at his face. He meets his eyes, leans in close so he can feel the fan of Hoseok’s breath warming his face.
“... But it’s worth it,” Kihyun finally breathes, quietly. He knows Hoseok can hear him perfectly.
“I don’t mind being lonely if it means seeing you,"
A moment passes and finally Hoseok smiles and it’s so warm and bright that it leaves Kihyun feeling a bit dizzy. Though, after further thought, he realizes that probably isn’t truly the cause. The sun is beginning to draw closer, the clawing fingers of sunlight scrambling for the pure obsidian sky above their heads. Soon, he’ll begin to fade. Impossible to notice at first, especially in this darkness, but soon he’ll become translucent, and transparent… then vanish.
Hoseok leans forward, taking Kihyun’s face in his hands and rubbing his thumbs warmly over the softness of his cheeks. It had been odd at first, realizing the man before him was a moon spirit. Kihyun gleams with all the clean, bright ferocity of the winter sun, a kind of vivid light and shine that seems to glint from his eyes, a kind of warmth that exudes from every pore of his being.
Kihyun is his sun.
Hoseok looks at him like he’s his world.
Because he is.
“I’d do anything if I knew it meant you wouldn’t ever be lonely again,” he breathes quietly and while the sentiment is warm, it’s also wholly impossible. There is no controlling night and day, no controlling the cosmos. Kihyun is tied to the moon just as Hoseok is tied to the sun. Wish as they might, they are two souls that can overlap only in small, fleeting moments.
“I know,” Kihyun sighs, pulling Hoseok’s hands forward to his lips so he can kiss at his palms. And while Kihyun usually looks sad in these fleeting moments they have together, there seems to be something a little heavier there tonight.
Hoseok shivers as Kihyun’s lips play over his palms, barely ghosting the sensitive skin as goosebumps erupt across his arms and the back of his neck. To him, Kihyun is perfect. Their roundezvous are never long: typically 20 minutes (longer or shorter depending on the season) and he feels he spends most of their time together in awe of the sharpness of his face, the warmth of his eyes.
A moment passes before Hoseok suddenly reaches forward, grabbing Kihyun and pulling him roughly, desperately to his chest. Kihyun stumbles, the force of the action nearly sends the two of them toppling over, but Hoseok manages to hold his ground. Kihyun seems surprised, frozen for a moment, before he cuddles deeper into Hoseok’s arms, face finding the warmth of his throat. Hoseok links his arms together behind him, lowers his head and breathes deeply from the crown of Kihyun’s head, losing himself in not just his scent but the fact he’s there -- The fact he feels so real and heavy in his arms.
It’s one of Hoseok’s fears that the other man will one day not return. Not much is known about their kind: what they truly are or why they do what they do. But there are theories. Hyunwoo, another sun spirit and good friend of his, had once whispered a theory that their positions were temporary, a position for souls whose destined reincarnation had either fallen through or been postponed. They were essentially souls in a kind of purgatory until they could be reborn again, be human again.
That is the thing about purgatory. It isn’t permanent. It’s possible that someday, he’ll be waiting on this hill and Kihyun will never appear and he’ll never see him again. And try as he might not to let that get to him… it would be a lie to stay it doesn’t.
What he fears more is that the opposite might happen. Kihyun will be waiting for him, waiting and finally truly, permanently alone. Left wondering why Hoseok never appears as the sun overtakes the sky and he vanishes, only to replay the same thing when night comes again. Only to be stuck in a cycle of hoping, but never seeing him again. Hoseok will just be gone and there will be nothing he can do, no message he can get to Kihyun, nothing he can leave behind. Then he’ll truly be alone--
And somehow that breaks his heart even more.
Hoseok holds Kihyun even tighter - bruisingly tight - at the thought and Kihyun tries to scramble out of his grasp, complaining quietly, playfully… until he realizes whatever going on in Hoseok’s mind is serious and falls still. Hoseok takes a breath and it sounds thick with tears and emotions and that’s alarming.
“Hoseok?”
“I’m fine,” Hoseok answers the unspoken question, voice still thick and deep.
Moments pass. Kihyun winds his arms tightly around Hoseok, noses at his neck and sighs into the familiar warmth. A winter wind swirls around them, glistening with dew-coated dead leaves that fall victim to the breeze. Hoseok’s arms are shaking around Kihyun and he takes to whispering softly, encouragingly into his ear. He tells him he loves him a thousand times before Hoseok finally stirs, speaks again.
One of Hoseok’s hands come up, petting at Kihyun’s hair before holding him closer.
“...What if all this just stopped? What if the sun never rose again?” Hoseok breathes and it’s clear he’s finding solace in fantasy, in a world where they would never be torn apart again.
“If the sun never rose? Sounds inconvenient,” Kihyun responds, always the realist, always the practical one and he expects Hoseok to smile but he doesn’t and that scares him. Carefully he draws away, leaning back so he can look Hoseok in the eye. He isn’t sure what exactly he had expected to see there… but the glistening of tears -- shining as bright and as sunbeams themselves, illuminating his face in the dark -- are the last thing on his list.
“I meant… if we just… stayed like this. Here. Now,” Hoseok adds and when he looks at Kihyun again his heart stops. He looks… far more translucent than just minutes ago, the faint pinpricks of light from the streetlamps by the waterfront starting to shine through his body. He’s fading. And no matter how many times Hoseok has seen him fade away, it never gets easy or less panic-inducing.
“...I wish we could,” Kihyun breathes helplessly and he realizes for the thousandth time in a thousand nights how much he hates this. Though Hoseok always comes back to him come dusk, the sheer trauma of being ripped away in the first place is almost too much for him to cope with, “But you know that’s not how it works.
“I hate how it works,” Hoseok mumbles a bit petulantly, but he doesn't care. He glances at the horizon, some instinct inside of him capable of knowing how much longer they have left. The sun is getting stronger now. He’s getting stronger. Which means Kihyun is getting weaker.
Kihyun leans back on his heels, eyes never leaving Hoseok. Slowly, his hands move up, wicking away the glowing tears with a faint hiss at the burn, like fire on his skin. But he doesn’t care. He quickly wipes his hands on his jeans, frowns at the way Hoseok is shivering, and begins unwinding his scarf from his neck.
“Come here,” Kihyun mumbles, quietly, and Hoseok complies as he leans in close, eyes never leaving Kihyun as he begins to wind the scarf around Hoseok’s neck. Kihyun on the other hand is zeroed in on the work at hand, making his work slow and diligent, softly tying it off once it’s complete. His lips are set in a small, diligent pout that sends butterflies through Hoseok’s stomach.
Hoseok’s hand comes up, pressing lightly at Kihyun’s when he finishes tying the knot. He’s faded even further now. It’s no longer just the distant streetlamps and stars that bleed through Kihyun’s form. Hoseok is starting to be able to see details of benches by the waterside, the occasional passerby on the distant walking path. They don’t have much time left. Minutes.
And then, something cold lands on Kihyun’s nose, eyes immediately jerking to the sky and he realizes it’s snowing.
“The first snow of the season,” he mumbles though it’s impossible to miss the awe in his voice, hands still held warm in Hoseok’s own. Hoseok looks identically surprised, a soft smile on his face now, the moments before dissolving in the wake of the beauty before them.
“...You know what they say about the first winter snow?” Kihyun asks quietly, voice low as if he’s afraid of breaking the moment, as if calling attention to it can somehow destroy it. Hoseok nods slowly.
“If you kiss the person you love during the first snow, it’s true love. True love that will last forever.” Kihyun continues shakily, eyes unable to leave Hoseok and he feels himself shaking. The weakness is becoming overwhelming as the sun grows ever closer, but there’s something about Hoseok that gives him strength, never-ending strength.
“Forever,” Hoseok adds and, despite the unknowns, despite the fact the universe is so complex and unreadable and unpredictable, for the time being they do have that. They do have forever.
Even if their forever is confined to a series of twilights and dusks.
They’re both shy at first, staying at the edges of one another’s orbits before another snowflake hits Kihyun’s eyelash and he leans forward. It’s not their first kiss, not by any means, but there’s something about this one that is so wholly different that every single one that came before vanishes from his mind. Hoseok tastes so unapologetically like the sun and it’s electric and overwhelming and Kihyun finds himself lost in the depths of Lee Hoseok. His hands fall to his sides, slipping from the plush weave of his scarf and he allows himself to be gathered into the absolute warmth of Hoseok’s arms once more. And the dizziness he feels isn’t from the fact the sun if coming and his being is fading away, but rather from Hoseok.
Hoseok, Hoseok, Hoseok.
And it’s clear to him that he’s not the only one affected. Hoseok’s fingers are digging sharply into his back, doing anything he can to desperately pull Kihyun closer, keep him there forever moon and sun be damned. Because without him, he feels nothing. His teeth catch Kihyun’s lower lip and the sound Kihyun makes leaves him shivering, both on fire and inexplicably chilled all at once.
Their teeth clash messily and they’re both kneeling up now, Kihyun’s hands scrambling for purchase on the back of Hoseok’s coat before they move, messing his hair, bodies flush together.
“I love you,” Hoseok breathes shakily, as if it’s the last time he’ll ever truly get to say it because frankly it might be, “God, I love you.”
“I love you too,” Kihyun manages and emotion catches in his voice. His lips burn, as if he’s been kissing the sun itself, and it’s addictive and all he wants, all he can think of and it feels every ounce of his being, his everythi-
Kihyun stills, strength leaving his muscles. His arms fall from Hoseok and if not for the fact Hoseok was holding him so tightly, he’s sure he would have fallen entirely. He doesn’t have to look over his shoulder to know what’s happened. The sun has broken the horizon.
Hoseok seems to realize a second after Kihyun and looks up in panic, staring down the breaching sun with wide eyes. He leans back down, pressing his forehead gently against Kihyun’s, cradling him close.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, but his voice cracks. Kihyun catches the crack and smiles at him teasingly before it falls soft. Gently, he traces away tears Hoseok wasn’t even aware had started falling down his cheeks.
“See you at dusk,” Kihyun says quietly, his voice really more a distant echo. Then he truly vanishes, a spiraling of silver sparks that drift away on the wind and leave Hoseok’s arms empty.
Hoseok doesn’t move for a moment, blinking moisture from his eyes, focusing solely on the way his lips burn with a cold fire, how they burn with Kihyun.
He’s left alone on that hill with the rising sun, his own thoughts, and Kihyun’s scarf wound lovingly around his neck.