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In the tail-end of a dreary October, Kevin Moon stops dreaming.
He startles awake out of a blue and white haze to a stack of papers falling to the floor, and bumps the back of his head against the desk when he bows down to pick them up. He winces at the pain and once again at the sound, hollow against the maze of shelves around him. The library is empty. Midnight poses no distractions, no frantic whispers of uncertainty or scribbling pens or muted footsteps on the cornflower carpet.
Kevin sits at the white desk by the window that looks out over the park, hidden between books in languages he and no one else speak anymore, and leans a heavy head against his sore wrists. The Starbucks across the street is still open, bright green sign almost screaming his name when he blinks and sees how the words of his sociology textbook bleed together like waves just washed over them.
Under the intention of studying until he either catches up on every class he skipped for piano lessons or attempting to beat Haknyeon’s ridiculously high Mario Kart score, or until Jacob, God bless him, drags him out of the library with a thermos full of bitter black coffee and another lecture on how eight hours of sleep a night are not optional but an absolute necessity, Kevin stumbles his way out of the library and into the Starbucks to replenish his energy and hopefully with that his motivation.
“Kevin Moon, haven’t seen you around for a while,” the barista comments as she hands Kevin his drink. He recognises her as the girl he used to sit next to in social psychology, the one who commented on the neat curls of his handwriting and the monotony of the professor’s voice. He doesn’t remember her name nor the stories she told to try and drag out every second of every break.
“I work on Thursdays so I can’t come to class anymore,” Kevin responds, pulling his scarf tighter around his neck. He turns his head and gives her a smile as he walks into the night.
What he does remember is the way her smile crumbled like a sandcastle embraced by the sea when he declined her offer for a date, which was met with great disbelief from both Chanhee and Jacob who were adamant he was in dire need of “getting laid” (Chanhee) and “spending time with someone new” (Jacob). All Kevin ever says is ‘It’s just not the right time’ and they let it go, because it’s never the right time, and Kevin isn’t quite willing to answer their questions as to when the right time will ever come.
Back in the warm arms of the library, Kevin breathes out the last traces of exhaustion as he ascends the stairs to the fourth floor, every footstep echoing throughout the empty stairwell like there are a thousand people on his heels. His feet automatically lead him to the back of the room, the foreign literature section, his vantage point to check for long queues at Starbucks, a crow’s nest for getting distracted by cute dogs in the park below, and shelter from the midterm stampedes.
Kevin hears the person before he sees them, an exasperated screech followed by a thud, once again hollow as it pops against the white polystyrene ceiling tiles. There’s a guy sitting at Kevin’s exact spot, forehead flat against the desk, hands clasped together behind his head. Kevin coughs but the guy doesn’t respond. He walks over to the other side of the desk and coughs again, a little louder, more out of annoyance then curiosity.
“What?” The guy mutters, voice muffled by the painted wood. He doesn’t look like he’s intending to move any time soon.
“I was sitting here,” Kevin states, gesturing to the papers that have been pushed to the side in a neat stack, and crosses his arms in an attempt to come across more intimidating. If Chanhee were here he’d laugh and tell Kevin he might as well give up then and there, and move his stuff to another spot further down, confined by books and no way of knowing if he’s going to have to waste the precious minutes he could be using to memorise deviance theories waiting in line for coffee.
The guy lifts his head slightly and looks up at Kevin through long lashes, eyes almost obscured by his obnoxiously bright blue beanie. “You left,” he says, perching his chin up on one of his hands, a half-smile pulling at his lips, “and now I’m sitting here, as you can see.” He stares Kevin up and down. “Now shoo,” he waves a hand dismissively, “I have a lot of work to do.”
Kevin stares at him in disbelief. Although they have never met before, the guy seems to take pleasure in annoying Kevin. His voice sounds almost teasing when he looks up from his textbook with a smirk and says, “Well?”
“I always sit here, dude, this is my spot,” Kevin retorts. It’s childish and it’s late. There’s a long silence between them, thick like morning fog. The guy leans back on his chair and shrugs, something glinting in his eyes when says, “I don’t see your name anywhere.” He turns his attention back to his textbook and doesn’t bother to look up when Kevin takes the seat right in front of him and borrows one of his neatly laid out pencils without asking.
Later, when the sun rises in pale yellow, Kevin is disturbed by the guy loudly slamming his book shut, followed by an irritated string of shushes and a soft apology. Kevin looks up at him and is met with a tired smile and the faint feeling of vague recognition so far in the back of his mind that none of his thoughts can reach it. “You can keep my pencil,” the guy nods, and pushes his chair against the table with a laugh, “See you around.”
When Jacob drags him home later that morning, rambling about his guitar and his brother’s new girlfriend and the fact that Kevin hasn’t slept properly in about three days, Kevin can’t stop thinking about the feeling of familiarity that sits heavily like an anchor at the bottom of his stomach.
It comes floating back up like a buoy when he meets the stranger and his voice like the incoming tide in a blue-and-white-tinged dream, the first one in so long Kevin can’t remember ever dreaming at all. He wakes up with a name on the tip of his tongue but forgets when it is swallowed back down with bitter coffee and instant noodles.
-
Kevin tells Chanhee about the guy, between two episodes of America’s Next Top Model reruns, with the dream clear like water right at the surface of his memory.
“You should've beaten his ass,” Chanhee comments, scraping the bottom of his ice cream tub for all that is left. Kevin laughs and hands him the rest of his mint-choco ice cream. “Can you imagine me fighting someone?”
Chanhee snorts and declines the offer, “I take it back,” he says, “You should get your ass beaten for eating this shit.”
Jacob is more helpful than that, as usual. According to him it is probably someone he’s seen around campus before. Maybe the guy is friends with Juyeon Lee from down the hall, or maybe he’s on the university’s renowned basketball team. There are thousands of people that could’ve thought that particular spot in the library seemed like a good place to study.
“You’re making an awfully big deal out of this,” Haknyeon comments at dinner, with a mouth full of fried rice, when Kevin sits zoned-out on the couch and tries desperately to reach out for the traces of recognition that are floating around his head. Kevin stops talking about it once he realises how small the chance is of them ever meeting again, yet the feeling that there’s something missing gnaws at the back of his brain every time he tries to fall asleep.
-
There’s no one sitting by the window two days later. Kevin breathes a sigh of relief as he drops his textbooks on the desk and slumps in the chair, resting his chin on his hands. The bright midday sun washes waves of white throughout the room, falling in light blue pools across the carpet. As the sun moves over the shelves and traces along the walls, Kevin stares out the window with a frown. The feeling seeping along his spine feels an awful lot like disappointment.
Right when Kevin is about to get coffee and one of those overpriced blueberry muffins that are stalled out on the counter and Kevin always buys out of guilt because no one else seems to, the guy rounds the corner of the shelf of Old Greek literature and comes to a stop when he sees Kevin sitting at the desk.
“Who do we have here?” he questions rhetorically, unwrapping his sky-blue scarf from around his neck and leaning forward on the table. “Seems like you are sitting in my spot.”
Kevin snorts, “I don’t see your name anywhere.”
The guy smiles down at him, the tip of his nose bright red from the cold. He looks Kevin straight in the eyes, a dark brown comprised of mischief and confidence and warmth. The sun encircles him in gold when he leans down to point a long finger at a scribble in lower left corner of the desk, and sure enough, there it is. Jaehyun Lee. In big bold letters.
Kevin raises his brow, “Seriously?”
The guy, Jaehyun, Jaehyun, smirks triumphantly and gestures for Kevin to stand up. If he wasn’t so hung up on figuring out where he’s heard that name before, Kevin would consider actually taking up Chanhee’s advice.
“This isn’t over,” he states, pointing a finger at the guy, who is taking his time to arrange all his stationary in parallel lines across the table, dark brown hair shimmering like rust in the late afternoon sun. It’s a sight so familiar it burns in cyan phosphenes onto the back of Kevin’s eyelids.
-
Kevin sits on his bed, a book about the rise and fall of global empires perched up on his knees, threatening to fall closed when he flinches every time Haknyeon shrieks in the living room. Kevin knows the boy’s Mario Kart record is on the line when bouts of high-pitched laughter come floating underneath the door to linger in his room like pieces of driftwood left behind on the beach. He gives up on studying and instead opts to hang around on the couch, watching Haknyeon swallow his pride as the laughing boy, Sunwoo Kim, Art History major, bright sparkling eyes, takes the crown.
“This is exactly what his ego needed,” Kevin comments when the credits roll, high-fiving a grinning Sunwoo, “Good job.”
Haknyeon sits on the floor, dejection curving his spine like a seashell. “Don’t you have to go back to whining about that guy that keeps showing up in your dreams?” He snaps, fingers grasping for the last slice of pepperoni pizza before Sunwoo can take also that away from him.
“I don’t whine about him,” Kevin retorts, a blatant lie. Just that morning Kevin couldn’t refrain from telling Haknyeon about how vivid his dream had been. Jaehyun on a horse, shoulders wide as the ocean, his hair fluttering behind him like a banner. For lack of a better response, Haknyeon said, “Maybe it’s a memory.” If the colours hadn’t all looked like they’d been washed out with dark blue ink, Kevin would almost believe it.
Haknyeon glares playfully at him, a smear of tomato sauce on his chin. Sunwoo sits between them, and shifts his gaze in confusion. “Anyway,” he pipes up, tucking his phone into the pocket of his sweatpants, “I think my brother will be here to pick me up soon.”
Haknyeon pouts, “Already?” he asks, batting his eyelashes in an attempt to look cute. Sunwoo laughs again, softer this time, like the buzzing of summer. “Yes, already. I told you about all those Renaissance paintings I have to memorise by tomorrow.”
Kevin follows him into the hallway. “Where’s Hak?” Sunwoo asks, pulling on his coat, peering around the doorframe into the living room, where Haknyeon is still finishing his pizza. “Priorities,” Kevin replies and Sunwoo rolls his eyes with a laugh. “Of course.”
“Do you want me to wait for your brother with you?” he asks right as the doorbell rings. “Speak of the devil.”
“You ready to go, Sunwoo?” The voice sounds familiar even before Kevin can see its owner, gentle, like the warmth it leaves in the tips of Kevin’s fingers, glowing like the ends of burnt-out matchsticks when he wakes up from his blue dreams. “You again.”
Jaehyun laughs, deep and loud, like crashing waves, a stark contrast to his speaking voice. Kevin wonders if that’s where Sunwoo got it. “This can’t be a coincidence,” he notes, and pulls off one of his navy-blue gloves to shake Kevin’s hand. “Let’s have a proper introduction. I never even got your name.”
Kevin holds Jaehyun’s hand for too long, big and clammy from the cold, icy fingertips prickling like needles against the back of Kevin’s hand. “Kevin,” he responds, “My name is Kevin.”
Jaehyun gives him a satisfied smirk. “I’m Jaehyun, but you already knew that, right? I’m Sunwoo’s step-brother.”
“Right,” Kevin repeats, “Jaehyun.”
Jaehyun smiles as he follows Sunwoo through the doorframe. “See you in the library I guess?” He asks, and all Kevin does is nod and wave until the both of them disappear when the elevator doors close with a bang that echoes throughout the empty hallway. He closes the door behind him with a sigh and joins Haknyeon on the floor.
Long after the silence has returned to their apartment, Kevin swears he can still taste Jaehyun’s name, sweet like honeyed milk on his tongue.
-
The days are the colour of wet limestone. Jaehyun sits across from Kevin in the library, smiling at him in the spaces between clouds, bleeding brightness onto the world like a beacon at sea. The hours blur together like the sky and the sea at the edge of the world.
“You know what,” Jaehyun pipes up, folding the corner of his page and closing his textbook, “after midterms we should go somewhere.” His eyes light up as pale white sunbeams shift across his face. It reminds Kevin of a dream. He raises his brows, “Like where?”
It’s been two weeks of studying together every day, Jaehyun staring out the window at the dogs in the park more often than not, Kevin tapping the top of his head to regain his attention. Jaehyun indulges Kevin in marine biology and in return Kevin introduces him to the basics of sociology. The nights stretch longer each week, and indigo settles over them like a veil.
“My parents have a house on the beach a little ways up north,” Jaehyun says, chewing on the back of his pen, lips turning blue, “But we would have to take Troy.” Kevin laughs and swats Jaehyun’s hand away. “Who’s Troy?”
“My dog,” Jaehyun responds quietly, embarrassment pulling his shoulders up like a marionette. Kevin snorts and covers his mouth to not burst out laughing.
“Troy? As in Troy Bolton?”
Jaehyun glares, “There’s nothing wrong with naming your dog after your celebrity crush, alright?”
The library is running dry. Kevin shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t believe you named your dog after a High School Musical character.”
He gets a punch in the shoulder. “I was nine and very into basketball, stop judging me. You and your YouTube channel are in no position to talk right now.”
Kevin stops laughing, “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you with that, you said you would never bring it up.” Besides Jacob, Chanhee and his mom, Kevin is pretty sure no one he currently associates with knows about his wannabe YouTuber past, and he would rather have it stay that way for as long as possible.
“Your Bruno Mars cover was cute though, I must admit,” Jaehyun teases. Kevin feels the tips of his ears burn like ice when he tells Jaehyun to shut up. “Don’t remind me of that please.”
They turn back to their books. Kevin stifles a yawn. “I’ll be right back,” Jaehyun announces a moment later, standing up from his chair and stretching his arms above his head, long fingers almost reaching all the way into the grey clouds. He smiles like a tidal wave washing away everything Kevin is trying to remember.
He comes with a trail of rainwater, leaving dark blue patches on the cornflower carpet, hair stuck to his forehead. He puts a cup of steaming Americano down in front of Kevin, fingers bright red from the humidity that feels like ice on their skin, looking at him in a way that says don’t mention it. The ink has smudged the side of his mouth blue like the first traces of evening. “Thank you,” Kevin says gratefully, warming his fingers on the cup.
Jaehyun shakes off his wet jacket, hair dripping onto his notes, blotting the words. “It’s okay,” he replies, between gusts of rain beating against the window. Kevin sits back in his chair and stares at Jaehyun following raindrops sliding along the windowpane with his fingers. Everything feels like it slots into place. If Kevin didn’t know better, he’d think they’ve been doing this for eternities.
-
Kevin runs, literally runs, into Jaehyun in the grocery store on the evening before his Statistics exam, head swarming with formulas and numbers and ultramarine wisps of a dream version of Jaehyun tangling his long fingers in Kevin’s hair. He stumbles over his cart and falls, knocking over cans of coconut milk that roll down the aisle to get away from their tormentor.
Jaehyun laughs from far above him, voice booming throughout the store like thunder, index finger pointed right at Kevin’s nose as if anything else could possibly be the source of his glee. When he stops laughing, wiping a fake tear from his cheek for dramatic effect, he crouches down to where Kevin is sitting amidst his packets of instant noodles and coffee pads.
“Hi,” he greets, gathering strewn about carrots into a paper bag to put them back into Kevin’s cart. Kevin shoots him a grateful smile and picks up a carton of eggs. “Didn’t expect to see you here,” he replies, “So far from home.”
Jaehyun lives in the city centre, a nineteen-minute metro ride away to be precise, take twenty-three when it’s rush hour and the metro has to wait for everyone’s arms and legs and briefcases to fit into the carriages. From the stop it’s a five-minute walk uphill to Jaehyun’s apartment, on the sixth floor of an old townhouse, across from a park with beeches and sycamores bleeding red into the streets below. Kevin has never been there.
“Yeah I’m staying with Hyunjoon,” Jaehyun clarifies, “Helping him with chemistry and what not.” Kevin stares at him, under the bright fluorescent lamps overhead he looks tired, black smudges of eyeliner running into the crinkles of his smile. His hair falls in a mop of dark curls across his forehead.
“Did you do something to your hair?” Kevin asks, reaching out to touch it briefly. Jaehyun coughs into his fist and pulls the hood of his pale blue hoodie a little further down. “I lost a bet,” he sighs, turning to point at a lanky boy further down the aisle, searching for a carton of milk in the store’s endless assortment. He turns to them and makes his way over with long strides, one shoe black and the other white.
“Kevin this is Hyunjoon, the culprit,” he introduces them to one another, gesturing with a lazy shrug and a hand full of cheese crackers, “Hyunjoon, Kevin from the library.”
Hyunjoon smirks and sticks out a hand, “Kevin huh?” He nods. “I’ve heard lots about you.” Jaehyun punches him in the shoulder with his free hand and glows bright red like sunburn on his cheeks.
“So, you’re the person I should thank for Jaehyun having to walk around like this?” Kevin asks. Hyunjoon laughs loudly, too bright for the time of night and Jaehyun stares at his boots. “It was all me.”
“Hey I still look cute,” Jaehyun pipes up, crossing his arms in feigned anger, “It’s just another win for me really.” Kevin laughs behind his hands. “Maybe that’s why I thanked Hyunjoon,” he replies, trying to sound so ironic it covers up every ounce of truth the statement holds.
“Anyway, I have to go because I’ve got a long night ahead of me, but enjoy chemistry you two.” Kevin takes hold of his cart and turns it into the direction of the check-out. Jaehyun grabs the cart and covers Kevin’s hand with his, big and warm, a feeling Kevin wants to conserve for when he has to walk back home in the biting cold.
“Good luck on your exam,” he whispers, smiling so brightly Kevin wonders for a second if he’s really there. It almost seems like exhaustion is blurring the lines between his dreams and reality. Then he’s gone, long legs carrying him back to his spot next to Hyunjoon, who has finally decided on banana flavoured soy milk.
Kevin opens his hand to find a silver charm in the shape of a crescent moon right in the middle of his palm. He remembers Jaehyun giving it to him in a dream before, in an ink blue house near the ink blue sea, a moon and a kiss, like years and years ago.
Jacob was definitely not exaggerating when he said Kevin needs more sleep.
-
It’s raining. Haknyeon hangs off the couch with his legs in Kevin’s lap, a trail of cookie crumbs runs across his pink pyjamas. “What now-dissolved nation included Bosnia, Croatia and Serbia?” Chanhee asks from where he’s sitting by the Trivial Pursuit gameboard, the last one still paying mind to the game, skipping through the cards to find all the hardest questions.
“Russia!” Haknyeon exclaims, a triumphant grin spreading across his face, “I’m right, aren’t I? I know my European history.”
Chanhee chucks the card at Haknyeon’s head, sitting upright on the threadbare rug the latter got scammed into buying at a yard sale under the impression it had belonged to a real Persian king. “You’re a fool, Ju Haknyeon,” Chanhee sighs exasperatedly, and Sunwoo laughs in his hands from across the coffee table.
“Who wants some more hot chocolate?” Kevin asks. Haknyeon rolls onto the floor. “Me! Extra marshmallows please.”
Jacob offers to help him carry the mugs as Haknyeon moves on to bother Sunwoo with the piglet pictures his mother sent from their farm back home. Chanhee cleans up the cards that are strewn across the living room floor.
“Are you sleeping alright?” Jacob questions as Kevin stirs the milk on the furnace, worried face turning into amusement when Kevin drops the spoon into the pan. “Shit,” he swears, “Yeah, I’m okay. I’m still having those dreams but it’s better now the exams are over.”
It's a rare occurrence for Kevin to wake up without blotted, blue images of Jaehyun floating into his early morning thoughts. He dreams of dreams in which they have the whole world beneath their feet. When he wakes up Jaehyun is sprawled out beside him on his bed, staining his sheets dark blue like running ink. When he wakes up again, he’s alone, the dark blue spreading like a bruise underneath his eyes instead.
Jacob pokes at his side. “Does he know?” he asks, in that gentle voice of his that barely reaches above the shrill laughter coming from the living room. Kevin shakes his head, “I want to say no, but I’m not so sure.” Jacob purses his lips and nods. “I want to be the first to know when something happens.” Kevin smiles and gestures to where Chanhee is throwing Cheetos at Haknyeon and Sunwoo on the carpet, “You’ll have to fight it out with him first.”
.
“What is this?” Kevin gestures at the tv, showing a very familiar wedding scene, when he comes back into the living room. “Chanhee wanted to have an entire Twilight marathon,” Sunwoo argues, “You should be glad we got him to agree on just Breaking Dawn.”
Chanhee squeals when Bella finds out she’s pregnant, giddily nudging Kevin with his shoulder as if it isn’t their third time watching this movie in the past month. “Stop acting as if this is news to you,” Kevin laughs. Chanhee glares at him, “Shut up. You’re on team Jacob so anything you say is automatically invalid.”
Kevin is about to retort when his phone starts buzzing. Jaehyun Lee; the screen lights up with a picture of him attempting to lick whipped cream off his nose. Chanhee takes a look at it and shakes Kevin’s shoulders. Pick up, he mouths and turns his full attention back to the movie.
He stands up and makes his way to his bedroom. The cold hits him like wave of ice when he closes the door behind him. The radiator starts ticking when he turns it on, the clock on his nightstand settles into its 1 am slouch. “Hi,” he breathes into the phone, backs of his ears burning up.
The voice on the other side of the line is decidedly not Jaehyun’s when it answers with a hesitant Hello after about fifteen seconds of heavy silence.
“Is this Kevin?” The person asks loudly, music booming in the background. Kevin keeps the phone away from his ear. “Yeah,” he replies and wonders why a stranger is calling him from Jaehyun’s phone at this ungodly hour.
“Oh, good,” a sigh of relief. “It’s Juyeon, from Jaehyun’s team. We’re at some frat party and I’m pretty sure Jaehyun drank an entire bottle of sparkling wine and now he’s crying on the curb.”
Kevin laughs and leans against the door, there’s a knot coming undone in his chest. “And I’m involved in this, how exactly?”
“Well, you see,” Juyeon stumbles over his words, “Jaehyun got into a fight with some guy and he got punched in the nose and started crying and now we’re sitting in the rain and he keeps asking for a Kevin so I just went through his contacts but there are like three Kevins.” Kevin laughs into the dark. “There’s a string of heart emojis behind your name though, so I decided to call you. But don’t tell Jaehyun I said that.”
“Can you put him on the phone?” Kevin asks, a fuzzy feeling like mulled wine stuck in the back of his throat at the thought of Jaehyun asking for him.
“I’m not so sure, he’s kinda hysterical.”
“Should I come get him?” Kevin proposes before thinking of the cold and the rain and having to face a drunk Jaehyun.
“Please.”
.
Jacob reluctantly lets Kevin borrow his car. The bright red Volkswagen Polo sputters in the cold as Kevin follows the GPS to the address Juyeon mentioned. It's not far but the drive is silent. The radio was already broken when Jacob got the car as an early graduation gift back in high school, and Jacob’s friend Eric thought pushing a quarter into the cd-player would be a great idea.
He finds Jaehyun soaked on the edge of the sidewalk. Kevin can’t tell if he’s still crying or if it’s just the rain streaming down his cheeks. Juyeon looks up when Kevin parks across the street and slaps Jaehyun on the back, making him look up as well. A smile spreads across his face as he runs over to the car.
“Thanks for coming,” Juyeon says as he makes sure Jaehyun is secure in his seat, patting him on the head like soothing an animal. “It’s okay, Jae,” he whispers, “Kevin is here now.” Jaehyun leans his head against the headrest and laughs, “I’m glad.” He breathes clouds of white into the night. There's ice on the windscreen. Juyeon closes the door and waves them off as Kevin drives down the street.
From the corner of his eye, Kevin catches Jaehyun staring at him, eyes glazed over, face illuminated by the blue light from the dashboard. When the traffic light turns red Kevin looks back at him. “Do you need something?” He asks teasingly, poking Jaehyun’s icy cheek.
Jaehyun smiles, eyes like the crescent moons from Kevin’s dreams, shaking his head. “No,” he replies, “You’re already here.”
Kevin barks out a laugh, “Jesus Christ.” His heart almost beats out of his chest.
.
The lights are off when they arrive back at Kevin’s apartment. There’s a note on the coffee table, Haknyeon’s graph paper, Jacob’s neat handwriting. Went to Chanhee’s. Bring the car back by Sunday. Have fun. The winky face he drew in the left-hand corner makes Kevin snort. Jaehyun stumbles trying to take off his shoes in the doorway. “Right, fun.”
After struggling to get Jaehyun out of his wet clothes and into one of Kevin’s warmest hoodies, baby blue, a winter morning, Kevin forces him into bed. “The toilet is down the hall for if you think you’re gonna be sick,” he pulls the duvet up to Jaehyun’s chin, “And there’s water on the nightstand, alright?”
Jaehyun sits up when Kevin opens the door. “Where are you going?” Kevin gestures towards the hallway, “I’m going to sleep in Hak’s bed.” Jaehyun’s hair falls in messy curls across his forehead when he shakes his head, “No, sleep here.” He rolls to the side to make room, the space that is sometimes occupied by dream Jaehyun open for Kevin to fall into like arms of white down.
Kevin complies, because Jaehyun glows a soft orange in the light of the street lanterns filtering through the curtains, gleaming eyes and contentment, and Kevin’s never known how to say no, especially not to the waves that crash against the insides of his skull every time Jaehyun smiles.
So, when Kevin wakes up the next morning Jaehyun is there, bleeding dark blue onto his white sheets, and when he wakes up again Jaehyun is still there, with his head rising and falling against Kevin’s chest like the incoming tide.
-
When Kevin was younger, a lifetime and an ocean away, he learned about synaesthesia in elementary school. He remembers how everyone in class was given a word and had to stick it to one of the coloured columns on the blackboard. There were seasons under pink and yellow and orange, sounds under green and red. Kevin still feels everyone’s eyes burning into the back of his head as he walked up to the front to stick his word underneath the long line of emotions related to the colour blue.
His mother asked him about school that night, spooning white rice into a bright red bowl, apron coming undone from behind when Kevin buried his face in her side. He told her about the blue boy from his poem, the one they had to write related to their word. He told her about his loud laugh and his bright smile and the way he’d always hold onto Kevin’s hand when they were around people he’d never met. They'd gone swimming and climbing and they grew old together once, in a white house by the beach, one with light blue shutters and an apple tree in the garden.
“He sounds nice, Kev.” His mother had laughed and played along with her son’s fantasies like a good mother does. She stroked his cheek and ruffled his hair.
“Maybe you should invite him to come play once.” When Kevin answered he watched her face fall, not in sadness, not in anything blue, but more a flurry of confusion that washed over her when all he did was shrug and say “I haven’t found him here yet.”
A girl with her shirt untucked called him stupid in school the next day, when he was drinking his strawberry milk on the side of the sandbox with his friend Changmin, who threw a handful of sand into the girl’s eyes and spent the rest of recess in the corner with his tiny hands on top of his head. The teacher explained the concept of subjectivity after lunch. No one else called him stupid again.
To Kevin love had never once been red, it was always blue.
-
The trees are almost bare. Kevin watches on from the path as Jaehyun catches a sole yellow leaf in his bright red hands, the grass under his feet frosting at the edges as dusk slowly settles over them, the sky deep blue above their heads. He turns to Kevin with a gleeful smile, all teeth and utter delight, and says, “This means good luck.” Kevin raises his brows and bites the inside of his cheek to keep from grinning.
They cross the street to get back to Jaehyun’s apartment. Jaehyun struggles to get the key into the lock, one hand stuffed with beechnuts, the other curling into the edge of his sleeve. Kevin breathes out a laugh and watches it dissipate into the cold.
“Let me,” he suggests, and steals the key without waiting for approval. Jaehyun exhales onto the tips of his fingers. “Thanks,” he replies, and flicks the light switch with his elbow, toes off his sneakers in the process.
Jaehyun turns to Kevin as he follows him in, gesturing at the picture frames in the hallway and the shark magnets on the fridge. “Welcome to mi casa,” he says, dark eyes glowing like embers in the evening gloom, “Would you like some tea?”
Kevin nods and watches for a moment as Jaehyun fills up the kettle and rummages through a drawer full of neatly sorted utensils. He turns and sets his bag down on the couch and turns his gaze to the Save The Whales mug that sits, still half-full of coffee, untouched on the wooden counter, the succulents on the windowsill, the tank full of guppies, the endless sea of lights outside the window. He walks back into the kitchen.
The hardwood floors dip here and there. “It’s an old house,” Jaehyun says, taking two cups from the cabinet, one dark blue, the other pink with pig ears. Kevin smiles and stares up at the high ceiling, cracks running along the white plaster like frozen rivers cutting through the snow. “Don’t worry,” he says, “I like it.”
They drink camomile tea on the rug in the living room and watch the city as it is slowly being covered in a layer of snow. Jaehyun spills honey on the coffee table and swears and laughs, and Kevin feels so warm, doesn’t know if it’s the tea or the way Jaehyun’s eyes crinkle into crescents when he smiles.
“What are these medals from?” Kevin asks later, when they’ve been asking about each other’s lives for a long time, and Kevin has learned many things he already kind of knew. Jaehyun actively tries to boycott Seaworld, likes banana ice cream and singing, and says there’s not a thing in the world he’s afraid of except his own mother when she gets angry. Kevin listens intently to riveting stories from Jaehyun’s childhood like he was there beside him, and tries to imagine what it could have been like had he found him sooner.
Jaehyun follows Kevin’s finger with his eyes and breathes a soft sound of recognition, as if he’d forgotten the medals were there in the first place. “They’re from some competitions I had last year, with the dance team. Juyeon is on it too.”
“You dance?”
Kevin has known Jaehyun throughout many many lifetimes, never once had he been a dancer. There had been dances on the beach, around campfires and in the pouring rain, waltzes through gold-plated ballrooms and slows at high school proms, but never had Kevin known of a Jaehyun that danced just to dance.
Jaehyun looks back and stares into Kevin’s eyes, face illuminated by the weak golden glow of the ocean breeze scented candle he lit when the lamps became too bright for the time of night. He seems to notice Kevin’s confusion because he smiles and finds Kevin’s cold fingers under the turquois fleece blanket. “I dance,” he confirms, “It’s a new thing.” He sounds like the wind and the sea.
When Kevin doesn’t say anything else, Jaehyun offers they go to bed. He blows out the candle and watches the smoke as it curls in veils of grey and blue against the ceiling. The night wraps around them like a duvet, the entire world falls silent. Kevin doesn’t ask what Jaehyun means with new, but the way he has his bony fingers wrapped around Kevin’s wrist as he pulls the blanket up to his chin seems to be nothing short of habitual.
“Sweet dreams, Kev,” Jaehyun whispers into the darkness, just a blurry outline against the city lights that wash over him from outside. He doesn’t see his splitting grin. The phosphenes that dance around on the back of his eyelids are bright blue. Kevin dreams of holding him.
-
Kevin shifts his head on an unfamiliar pillowcase. There’s a knee against his stomach, fingertips on the palm of his hand. Jaehyun is asleep next to him, lips pursed, hair frizzy, shadows cascading down his cheekbones as if the sun is setting on his skin. Kevin looks at him for a long time. He smells like washing powder and rain and sleep.
Pale morning light seeps through the translucent curtains, trickling down the eggshell walls in intricate patterns of yellow and gold. Dust particles dance waltzes in the sunbeams like in Kevin’s dreams. Outside, a truck passes by. The whole house shivers in its foundations.
The wooden floors creak under his cold feet when he stands up, every footstep cutting into the silence as he tiptoes out of the room. He finds the coffee pads after opening a few cupboards, plates neatly stacked but honey next to canned tuna next to an unopened bag of rice. Kevin sits by the window and drinks his coffee, watches as the morning wavers above the rooftops, snow melting and smoke rising.
There’s a bunch of chickadees on the windowsill, twittering and chirping exuberantly as a reward for the suet cakes Jaehyun puts out there every winter. Kevin watches them hop around as he soaks in the scarce winter sunlight. He washes his mug and waters the sansevieria that has started to turn brown at the tips. They bring good fortune if well taken care of, his mother used to say. Kevin almost feels at home.
.
“Why does my house smell like someone actually lives here for once?” Jaehyun bursts through the door with a loud voice, slightly cracked at the edges like broken seashells and worn away sandcastles. Kevin stands by the stove and laughs, flipping a slightly burnt banana pancake with a fork. “About time you woke up,” he replies, “I was almost planning on eating all of these by myself.”
Jaehyun shuffles over to the counter, wearing one bright orange sock and a dark blue hoodie, cheek dented by the pillowcase. He reaches for one of the pancakes on the plate. Kevin slaps his hand away. “No way.” Jaehyun stares at him with wide eyes, the corners of his lips pulling down at the edges. He leans in with a pleading look, there’s a mole on the bridge of his nose Kevin never noticed before, his stomach rumbles loudly. Kevin shakes his head and pushes him away.
“You know what, I’ll just eat the leftover pizza from three days ago,” he huffs, eyes still hopeful as he reaches for the handle of the fridge. “Cold, might I add.”
Kevin rolls his eyes and laughs again. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll reconsider.”
“Can I please please have a pancake,” Jaehyun clasps his hands together and bats his eyelashes. The sun turns half of his face bright white.
“I don’t think that will do,” Kevin responds in feigned apology, a slight shrug of his shoulders, grin tugging at the corners of his lips.
“I’m telling my mom.”
“She lives half a world away, what is she gonna do?”
Jaehyun narrows his eyes at that, his shoulders slouching like collapsing waves. Just as Kevin thinks he’s given up, he lurches forward and wraps his arms around Kevin’s waist, picking him up in a fluid motion and pulling him away from the stove. His fingers dig into the dips between Kevin’s ribs, filled up with bouts of high-pitched laughter.
“Okay, stop, I’ll give you the pancakes you win!” He screeches. The chickadees on the windowsill fly away in surprise.
Jaehyun smiles and doesn’t let Kevin go, only rests his chin on his shoulder and sighs contently.
“I think your pancake is burning,” he comments, when Kevin has been too distracted by the strands of Jaehyun’s hair tickling his cheek to notice. His voice feels like raindrops on his skin.
“That’s yours,” Kevin replies.
Jaehyun laughs and the chickadees return to the sill.
.
Later, when they are each sitting on opposite ends of the table, Jaehyun with his back to the world, a halo of sunlight surrounding him like the saints in the paintings in Sunwoo’s Renaissance art book, Kevin shoves him a plate stacked with pancakes, the top one charred at the sides. Jaehyun stares at it and whines.
“God, you’re mean,” he says.
Kevin laughs at him and never wants to look away.
-
Chanhee and Jacob sit across from Kevin at the dinner table in Chanhee’s cramped flat. Their empty plates have been shoved aside to make room for elbows and chins resting in hands on the pastel pink tablecloth. Jacob is leaning in closer with every tick of the clock, bouncing his legs up and down under the table in anticipation. Chanhee swirls the white wine in his glass around and around until he looks up at Kevin with a glare and tells him to spill.
“Is this the reason you invited me to dinner?” Kevin asks, raising his brows as Chanhee leans back with a shrug.
“Maybe so.”
Kevin clicks his tongue and nods, “I feel the appreciation, thanks Chanhee.”
The topic of Jaehyun had been brought up several times throughout the evening. Once when Chanhee took his coat and kissed his cheek, and asked Kevin how Jaehyun was doing, then once again when Jacob asked if he was finally getting some proper sleep.
Two bottles of wine later, Kevin feels his fingers trembling as he fiddles nervously with the hem of his blue shirt. Chanhee and Jacob stare at him, wide-eyed and red-cheeked, the air around them fuzzy. Kevin’s brain catches up a second too late when he swallows thickly and says, “I’m in love.” The words fall soft and slurred from the tip of his tongue.
Chanhee and Jacob turn to one another with smiles splitting their faces in half. The Beyoncé playlist Kevin put on hours ago restarts for the third time and the ceiling feels like it’s falling. Chanhee downs the wine he had left in his glass and reaches for the bottle of champagne he keeps on the counter for ‘special occasions’. Jacob laughs and knocks over his empty glass when he reaches out to pat Kevin’s cheek.
“I’m glad you finally found him,” he says, and takes Kevin’s glass so Chanhee can fill it up right to the edge.
“Me too!” Chanhee pipes up and raises his glass high.
“To Kevin and his boy,” they say, when they clink their glasses together, being very careful to look each other in the eyes for good luck, champagne spilling down their fingers. Kevin grins until his cheeks hurt and promises to introduce them to Jaehyun as soon as he is back from his field trip.
-
When they arrive at the seaside, the sun is already drowning.
The house is white with light blue shutters. The tree in the garden is completely bare, the grass a faded dark green. There's a vague memory in the back of Kevin’s mind in which he’s picking apples, the grass long and soft between his toes, and Jaehyun everywhere. The wind rises and the seagulls screech all around them. Everything smells like cold.
Jaehyun lifts all the pots on the porch for the key to let them in, Kevin buries his nose in his scarf and shivers when the wind bites at the skin of his cheeks. Troy drapes himself across Kevin’s feet and cries at the wind whistling in their ears.
“Got it,” Jaehyun sighs when he finds the key under the doormat, his fingers bright red and icy. Kevin smiles and takes Jaehyun’s frozen hands in his own as they walk inside. When the door shuts behind them, the world seems to come to a standstill.
“I’ll go turn on the boiler,” Jaehyun says, turning on his heel. Kevin pulls him back and brings Jaehyun’s hand up to his lips. He can’t tell if Jaehyun’s cheeks are red from the cold or because he’s blushing but he revels in it nonetheless.
Kevin opens the windows to air the house. No one has been there for almost a year. There’s a bunch of pictures on the windowsill, all covered in a layer of dust. There's one of Jaehyun and Sunwoo next to a big sandcastle, a black-and-white wedding day, a border collie puppy. Kevin smiles at a picture of Jaehyun buried in the sand, grinning widely, all teeth, like he’s always done. There are more memories floating on the surface of his mind, the tide comes in and crashes waves against the inside of his skull.
Jaehyun comes back and rests his chin on Kevin’s shoulder, his skin warm against Kevin’s neck. “Let’s go take a walk before the sun is gone,” he says, and laughs when Troy barks loudly at the words. The sun shines orange onto his face and Kevin feels like he’s drowning too.
.
The tide is retreating. Jaehyun squats down and digs his fingers between rocks in the search for crabs. Kevin sits on the breakwater and watches him. Troy finds a piece of driftwood and puts it down by Jaehyun’s feet, waiting for it to be thrown. Jaehyun smiles and stands up, picking up the stick and running away. When he laughs, he sounds like the sea.
The wind pulls at Jaehyun’s coat and scarf and hair as if it’s trying to whisk him away. He stops running for a moment and turns to Kevin, smile beaming as he waves his arms, a wisp of bright blue in the dying light.
Kevin scurries towards him and holds him tight. Jaehyun laughs so loudly that the wind and the sea fall silent.
“What’s up?” he asks, when the sun has been swallowed whole. Kevin shrugs. “I’ve missed you,” he says, and the winds starts singing when Jaehyun smiles. His hands are warm when he pries the crescent moon necklace from underneath Kevin’s shirt. “It was here that I gave it to you for the first time. I don’t even know how long it’s been.”
All the lifetimes they spent together bleed into one another. Kevin already knows the answer when he asks, “You remember?”
Jaehyun presses a fleeting kiss to Kevin’s lips. He tastes like salt and something blue.
“How could I forget?”