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A small moth flutters in through the window, little beating wings shining in the afternoon sun. It flies in with the spring breeze, a cool relief from the hot day. Jinwoo watches from his space on the lower bunk, so relaxed he could almost melt into the bedsheets. Something about the atmosphere on a spring afternoon makes him feel this way; cleansed, tranquil enough that he could fall asleep without the weight of the world brushing on his shoulders.
The day was quickly drawing to a close, and he had done little with it. There was an itch beneath his skin, to go out, to come eye to eye with someone – not just anyone, though. He hadn’t seen Dongmin since Thursday, and his hand ached to hold the other boy’s. He had arrived back, today, and Jinwoo longed to see him again.
The moth lands on the far wall, before crawling up to the windowsill and dashing off into the dusk air. Jinwoo sighs, pushing himself up off the mattress to shut the window. His legs feel sluggish, as he had barely done much at all on this day, and he wobbles over to the other side of the room. He reaches up, his fingers grazing the dusty top ledge of the window pane, when his gaze falls onto the street, onto a lone figure staring up at his window.
Dongmin.
He stands in the shade of a thick fig tree, the shadows dancing over his delicate features. His hair rustles in the cool breeze, a tiny smile quirked on the ends of his plump lips. Jinwoo feels his heart skip a beat; the boy looks like a faerie, pulled away from his magical world by the tangling winds of this Korean spring.
A smile instantly catches between Jinwoo’s cheeks, and he ducks, sticking his head out the window. Silently, Dongmin waves, his gentle hand raised for him. “What are you doing here?” Jinwoo calls, forcing himself further out the window. He’s tempted to climb onto the roof tiles, tempted to inch closer and closer to the other boy.
“Wanted to see you,” Dongmin replies, his hair falling over his eyes. He brushes it back, effortlessly gorgeous, and Jinwoo feels his heart tug in his chest. He wanted to see me? Jinwoo wonders to himself, dumbfounded. “I haven’t seen you since Thursday, so…” He trails off, shrugging, almost unsure of himself. “I’m here.”
“I wanted to see you, too,” Jinwoo replies, before he can trap the words in his mouth. He feels hot red embarrassment churn in his core, pink rising on his neck, but it fades as Dongmin’s smile blossoms on his lips. So, Jinwoo thinks, we were thinking of each other?
Dongmin sways on the street, his long legs tilting side to side as he dances on the pavement. His hands reach up and pluck a fig leaf from the tree that dangles over him, and he folds it between his fingers. His eyes don’t leave Jinwoo, not even for a second. Time feels as if it has stopped, the sun still in the pink sky, and Jinwoo has so many words on the tip of his tongue that he fears he might never get to say – but he can never find the right time.
Instead, he says, “Do you wanna come up?” He pushes the window up higher and slides out, onto the roof. Dongmin nods, stepping closer to the trunk of the tree and hoisting himself up into the fork of it, manoeuvring himself with practiced ease over the tangle of branches, his skilled limbs bringing him closer, closer, closer. With a huff, he jumps from the closest branch and lands on the roof, and into Jinwoo’s arms.
The dusk sun lands on Dongmin’s face as Jinwoo pulls him into his chest, his skin shining golden, his hair fluffy like a halo. He looks soft and warm, and he practically melts as he falls against Jinwoo’s chest. In this moment, he wants nothing more than to touch Dongmin, feel the boy in his hands, against his lips. Alone, he cradles the boy in his arms and lays kisses over his face, listens to the younger boy giggle in his arms, absorbing the multitudes of love that Jinwoo feels thrumming within him.
“Say,” Dongmin begins, as Jinwoo’s lips begin trailing over the shell of his ear, his voice shaped around bubbling laughter. Jinwoo pauses, his teeth grazing the curl of Dongmin’s lobe, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to make him squirm a little. “What are you doing tomorrow?”
Jinwoo pulls his mouth away, his hands instinctively winding tighter around Dongmin’s waist. If he could not touch him in one way, he would feel him in another. He hums, “Not much of anything,” he admits, thinking about how slow his days had turned without Dongmin’s presence.
“You’ll come with me to the river, won’t you?” The sun had fallen behind the crest of the mountains, leaving behind a spray of orange across the sky. Dongmin’s face has a silver-lining, and even if he wanted to say no, Jinwoo doesn’t think he would be able to deny the invitation.
A streetlight flickers on, down the street. Dongmin turns around in his lap. “I’ll come,” Jinwoo says, his eyes meeting with Dongmin’s, directly opposite him.
“I’ll pick you up, tomorrow. 10 in the morning? Or, will you still be asleep?” the younger boy teases. Jinwoo pouts, and Dongmin pokes his lips with his index finger, before pecking them with his own lips. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he whispers, laying one final kiss on Jinwoo’s lips, before slipping out of his grasp and down the tree.
Safely on the ground, he waves up to Jinwoo, before turning around and walking away down the street. Jinwoo huffs, laying back against the roof. The first star pops into the sky. There was something so addictive, so tantalising about Dongmin, that Jinwoo found to be so captivating. Something about his atmosphere always left more for Jinwoo to feel he had to explore, and he wanted to memorise everything about this boy, from the inside out.
Their relationship was only fresh, but rapidly growing, as the spring wore on and they spent more time together. Jinwoo couldn’t wait to see what else they had in store, waiting for them.
The next morning, true to his word, Dongmin is perched in the tree outside, a large straw hat balanced on his head. Jinwoo slides the window open and feels the spring breeze brush against the skin on his face. Dongmin looks as dewy as the morning grass, his smile luscious on his lips. “Good morning,” he says, as he turns to face Jinwoo, having heard the window scrape up. The still-rising sun catches in his hair and on the apples of his cheeks, and Jinwoo sucks in a breath and holds it in his lungs until they burn.
Is he even real?
“Morning,” Jinwoo replies, sliding out onto the roof. Slung over his shoulder is his towel, and the tassels of it dangle at his thigh as he turns to shut the window again.
“Not a good one?” Dongmin asks, a gently teasing tone to his voice. In his hands is a thick wicker basket, the gingham fabric of a picnic blanket poking out from the sides. Intricately wound through the wicker is various wildflowers, and Jinwoo wonders if Dongmin had collected them on the way to his house.
He shakes his head, “Fine. Excellent, even,” he grins, nodding in the boy’s direction. “What have you got there?” He asks, the delicate basket calling curiosity from him.
Dongmin rolls it in his hands slightly, his delicate fingers tapping against the brown wicker. “A picnic basket. I made us lunch, to eat at the river.” He plucks one of the larger wildflowers from the wicker, one whose petals billow out from the centre in various shades of purple. “Here,” he murmurs, and tucks it behind Jinwoo’s ear. “Pretty.”
Jinwoo blushes, pulling his face away, “S-Shall we go?” He takes Dongmin’s hand in his own, tugging himself towards the tree. He pushes himself down first, slotting his body into the fork of the trunk and securing the bottom of Dongmin’s weight to help him, though he didn’t need it. As Dongmin shimmies down around him, Jinwoo takes the basket and hooks the loop on a bare branch, before making his way down himself.
Dongmin takes it from the tree, his left hand grasping the basket, and his right hand searching for Jinwoo’s. He dusts the scraps of bark from Jinwoo’s palm and wraps his fingers around it, grinning when Jinwoo squeezes his hand in return. “This way,” he murmurs, pulling him down the street.
The road to the river is a long, thin road, that stretches like a dividing wall between farmlands. On the left side, is rows and rows of rice beds, glittering in the morning sun. On the right side, is an ocean of wheat fields, rolling like waves in the spring breeze. Jinwoo breathes in the clear, warm air, feels it swirl in his lungs. Today felt magical, side-by-side with Dongmin, whose hand is wrapped around his own.
They sing into the air, songs they’d made up of their own accord, in late nights under the stars, on walks just like these, or perched on Jinwoo’s rooftop. He always finds himself taken aback by Dongmin’s voice, sweet and melodic in his ears. Every time he hears it, he yearns to pull Dongmin’s singing lips to his own and kiss him until his moans become the music – he’s yet to do this, he ponders.
The farmland closes in on the path, until the forestry hangs over the road, the canopy thick and cooling. The forest is alive with crickets and bugs and birds, the ground skittering with lizards and rabbits. Jinwoo glances behind them, at their small town growing even smaller as they walk away, hidden between the rolling hills. They were alone.
“Not much longer, I promise,” Dongmin says, pointing to a little wooden sign, poking out of the ground. Together they skip over rocks, logs, and untucked roots of thick trees, making their way down to the river’s edge. When they finally make it, Dongmin’s chest releases a small, cute, squeal of glee.
There is a large, roughly circular clearing around the river bank, dotted with wildflowers and short grass. The bank of the river is made up of soft, round pebbles, some glistening with moss, others hot and dry from the sun. The river babbles as it rushes over the land, turning the corner until it can no longer be seen beyond the clearing. From the tree canopies, vines hang loosely, dangling flowers and greenery over the water. In awe, unable to look away from the gorgeous surroundings, Jinwoo doesn’t notice the other boy unpacking the picnic basket.
The gingham picnic blanket has been splayed over the grass, a small bundle of wildflowers tied together with a string of twine sit in the centre, beside sandwiches and a glass bottle of water. Dongmin has a thick paperback book in his hands, his straw hat falling over the back of his head as he sits down.
“It’s pretty, right?” Dongmin calls to him, watching the sun sparkle on the babbling water.
Jinwoo can’t pull his eyes off him. The way the sun sits on his golden skin, the way his raven hair curls slightly under the brim of his delicate hat, the way his eyes sparkle with joy, totally in his element. “Yeah, it is,” he agrees, feeling the breath sink out of his lungs.
“Join me?” Dongmin asks, turning to him, the apples of his cheeks pink and dewy from their long walk. He pats the space beside him on the picnic blanket.
Over light conversation, the gaps filled in with laughter, they eat the lunch so thoughtfully made my Dongmin. Jinwoo feeds the boy, laughing when Dongmin’s lips kiss at his fingers when reaching for the sandwiches.
Afterwards, they lay about on the blanket, letting their food settle in their full bellies. Dongmin fits into the bend of Jinwoo’s arm, absorbed in the imaginary world of his novel. Jinwoo rests his straw hat over both of their heads, shielding them from the midday sun, his nose tucked into the other boy’s hair, his eyes heavy as he naps against his lover.
When Jinwoo feels he is coming to, the world fuzzy to all of his senses, he feels Dongmin shift against him, folding his book closed and pushing it aside. The boy rolls further into Jinwoo, “Are you awake?” He asks, quietly, bringing his head up towards Jinwoo’s. When Jinwoo nods, pouting lightly, Dongmin kisses his lips. “I want to swim. Won’t you come in?”
They sit up. “Sure,” Jinwoo says, stretching his muscles out and plucking them back to his sides, much like a sleepy kitten. “Will it be cold?”
“Only a tad,” Dongmin giggles, sitting back on his feet. He pulls off his shirt, his arm getting caught in the sleeve. Jinwoo reaches over and frees him, giggling softly. “Think: refreshing,” he drawls, running his fingers through his hair, pushing it out of his eyes. Jinwoo follows him, tugging off his shirt and hobbling over the pebbles to the river bank.
The water licks at his toes, true to Dongmin’s word in that it was refreshing. The forest rhythmically breathes with life, the singing of cicadas echoing, harmonising with the trickle of the river. Jinwoo’s feet slide over mossy rocks as his body sinks further into the depths of the water, his body instantly relaxing as he is submerged, his feet treading.
Like a fresh-water mermaid, Dongmin has already dipped himself beneath the water, hidden from the world above. Jinwoo swims to the point where Dongmin dived in, waiting for the boy’s head to break the water, for his smile to reappear from beneath the surface. When it does, Dongmin’s hair clings to the side of his face, and his cherub smile splits his face in half.
He shakes his head, the water trapped in his hair flying free, in a perfect spiral. “Nice, isn’t it?” Jinwoo nods, dunking his own head into the river, feeling the chilling water slide over his body, dipping him into darkness. When he surfaces, Dongmin is staring at him, having waited for him as he had for Dongmin. The boy paddles over to him, his body cutting through the water until he treads beside Jinwoo.
His body, wet and bare, is as slick as the belly of a fish, as smooth as silk. His arms snake around Jinwoo’s waist, the unique feeling of their wet bodies sliding against each other is both comfortable yet strange. Their bare chests glide together, and Jinwoo finds himself biting his lower lip, attempting to trap the noises of pleasure threatening to escape him.
Dongmin leans forward, his fingers reaching up to Jinwoo’s face, and with his wet thumb, he frees his lip. A droplet of water trickles from his digit and over Jinwoo’s mouth, and in one swift movement, he pulls himself up and presses his lips against Jinwoo’s. Their wet lips mould together, moving together with natural ease. Dongmin’s tongue dips out and laves at Jinwoo’s lips, and he can’t help but whine softly at the feeling.
They are wrapped around each other, encompassed by the babbling river, surrounded by a forest so beautiful that Jinwoo wonders if this is all a dream. They kiss until their legs can no longer tread the water, until Dongmin becomes tired from his legs kicking consistently. Jinwoo takes him by the hands and tugs him through the stream, until their toes are balanced on the mossy rocks at the river bed.
Being much shorter than Dongmin, when they reach rocks that his toes can touch, most of Dongmin’s chest is exposed to the sun. He is teased for this, and in retaliation, Jinwoo scoops up a handful of water and splashes it over the boy. Playfully, they attack each other with splashes of cool water, until Dongmin takes him by the shoulders pulls him close, pressing their lips together.
Whether he became breathless from the surprise, or the kiss itself, Jinwoo doesn’t know, but he wraps his arms around Dongmin’s slick body and presses them closer together. All he wants to do is kiss him. Kiss, kiss, kiss, until he can’t feel his lips anymore. Dongmin’s fingers slide into the back of his hair, keeping their faces close, even as they pause for breath.
Their bodies do not part, magnetic and unwilling to separate. Jinwoo thinks he could not bring himself to peel their bodies apart if he tried. His fingers explore the inches of Dongmin’s body that are available to him, longing to memorise the shape and sway of his form.
When Dongmin pulls away, pausing for breath, he rests his forehead up against Jinwoo’s, their noses pressed together. He breathes heavily, the air stuttering over Jinwoo’s lips. “I…” Dongmin starts, his hands pulling out of Jinwoo’s hair and running down his back. “I really, really, really like you…” He murmurs, and as lovely as it is to hear that, Jinwoo can feel the hesitation on his tongue, the urge to confess all the feeling they mutually felt.
It felt too soon. Could time hold a restriction on love?
Jinwoo presses forward, lets his lips linger on Dongmin’s but does not move to kiss him. “I really, really, really like you, too,” he mumbles, and giggles when he feels Dongmin’s lips wrap around a smile against his mouth. “You drive me mad,” he tells him, his fingers gliding back on Dongmin’s skin.
“I don’t want to go home, today,” Dongmin says, his hands tightening in Jinwoo’s hair, curling it around his fingers. Jinwoo can feel that the skin on his feet has wrinkled, having been under the water for so long. The sun has moved across the sky and is casting a different coloured light through the forest, warm and soft – the afternoon sun was calling them home.
“Neither do I,” Jinwoo whispers, pecking his lips, and then once more.
Nonetheless, they pull each other out of the water, their swim clothes dripping down their legs as they stumble over the pebbles and back to the picnic blanket. They sit themselves there, together, huddled up in Jinwoo’s towel, enjoying the last few minutes of their day.
“We’ll come back, won’t we?” Dongmin asks, peeling his eyes away from the river and staring into Jinwoo’s eyes. “You’ll come back here, again, with me.”
Jinwoo nods, ruffling Dongmin’s hair, “Of course. I would love that,” he says.
Beneath the canopy, the sunset begins to bleed into the sky, staining it pink and orange. The forest grows unsettled, as the nocturnal animals are roused from their slumber. Jinwoo puts Dongmin’s shirt back on him, ties his straw hat under his chin, and helps him to pack away the picnic blanket.
Jinwoo’s heart dampens as they clamber away from the clearing and onto the main path. At the point where the forestry ends, and the farmland begins, Jinwoo can see their village, set in the valleys of the hills. Chimneys have slithers of smoke snaking into the sky, the thick fig trees that line the streets stained orange in the evening light.
Dongmin takes his hand, and they take a silent – yet, comfortable – walk back into the main town.
He has so many more words he wants to say, trapped in his throat. Words he wants to confess to this boy, who had filled an emptiness within him.
And, whilst he feels he cannot say them now, he knows the time will come. Dongmin marvels at the sky, as the first, brightest star pops into sight. Jinwoo can’t take his eyes off him, as his eyes shine and his cheeks blossom as pink as the spring roses. He’s never going to let this boy go.