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“Get in, loser. We’re going shopping.”
“It’s past midnight.”
“I did it for the reference. Now get in.”
Ten minutes ago, Wooyoung had sent Yeosang a text telling him to meet him on Yeosang’s front yard in five minutes or else he was going to unassemble Yeosang’s entire Gundam collection. Yeosang considered walking back in when Wooyoung didn’t arrive in exactly five minutes; it was a pet peeve of his, when people aren’t punctual, and every minute after made him feel like ants were crawling up his back. But Yeosang gave his childhood friend a chance, knowing Wooyoung never means his five minutes. So now, here he was, in his wrecked up Honda that he got third hand - from his father, to his older brother, to him - windows down, low lights lighting the tar before him. He only lived four houses down the street, and Yeosang wondered what took him the extra five minutes.
He wasn’t careful when he pulled on the rusty handle; it looked like it might fall off any time soon, but without the extra push (or pull, in this case) it wouldn’t unlatch the door from the car, so they made due.
“Where are we going?” Yeosang was used to Wooyoung’s little night trips; he already knew where the blunts were hiding (in a Yu-Gi-Oh box underneath the driver’s seat; rolled and unrolled, there would always be a fresh batch every time Yeosang opened it) and he knew too well that this was one of those nights. He reached towards the back for the disguised pot box, getting a whiff of Wooyoung’s hair, tainted with sweat mixed with peppermint scented shampoo.
“We might need to hold back on the weed tonight,” Wooyoung grinned, not answering Yeosang’s question. “We’ll need our motor control more than usual.”
Yeosang raised an eyebrow, not even glancing at the other. He opened the box as he settled back into his seat, bringing a rolled blunt up to his mouth and picking up the familiar plastic lighter that took residency with the weed, lighting up the end. He took a puff and felt his body muscles relax with the cloud inside his lungs. It was a Thursday night, and Wooyoung knew Yeosang didn’t have any Friday classes, so it was a common day to pick him up and bring him along to whatever no-good plan he had in mind. Yeosang plucked each thought of the assignments he was planning to work on on the weekends out of his head, and soon, it was just him, Wooyoung, and the road in front of them.
After a few long narrow roads and five junctions, breaking every red light they met, Wooyoung drove into an empty parking lot, dimly lit by sparsely spread streetlights. Yeosang recognized it to be a place he last visited almost a year ago; the small beach by the lake nearest to their campus. Yeosang only remembered it for having a narrow plot of sand, too many loud children of college professors, and the wooden walkway of an abandoned mini boat port.
“I have to ask again,” Yeosang started as they left the car, only bringing with them the single blunt that Yeosang had lit, now stuck between Wooyoung’s lips. “What the hell are we doing tonight?”
“You ask too many questions,” Wooyoung retorted back, waving his car keys in the air before keeping it in his jeans pocket. “Isn’t it better that you don’t know? Then when we get caught you can say you got coerced into doing this with me.”
“ Get caught? ” Yeosang repeated. They walked the stone pathway that led visitors from the parking lot towards the beach, passing the restroom hut on the way. The summer’s heat was still wafting in the September air, the path below the two’s feet holding some of it. “For fuck’s sake, Wooyoung, I’m not stealing anything if that’s what you’re on.”
“Not stealing ,” Wooyoung told, puffs of smoke escaping his mouth. “ Borrowing .”
Soon, all questions were answered as Wooyoung passed Yeosang the blunt, and he watched as Wooyoung dragged an overturned bass boat down the beach towards the wooden walkway. He excitedly chattered on, butt in the air as he walked backwards with the edge of the boat in his grasps.
“I saw this the other day on a trip here for that geology class I’m taking, and I don’t think anyone actually owns it, and the motor probably doesn’t work either, but look, there’s some paddles there, we can just use those.” Wooyoung let go of the boat halfway down the beach, sand already dusting his feet, the flip flops he had on not giving much protection. He looked up at Yeosang with knitted eyebrows, sweat droplets already forming on his temples. “Do you wanna help?”
“I actually don’t,” Yeosang groaned, walking towards the other side of the boat, blunt between gritted teeth. He used whatever strength he had left for the night to lift the boat, gripping on the edge. They flipped the boat over and carried it towards the body of water. Yeosang hiked back up to get the paddles Wooyoung mentioned, lying dusted by a low tree. He sighed while walking back towards the edge of the lake where Wooyoung stood, his lightly bleached hair frizzy in the night air, his sweating skin glistening below the moonlight. They had never gotten caught doing all the late night activities Wooyoung had pulled Yeosang into, from breaking into a campus building for the textbook Wooyoung left in his locker, to exploring an old abandoned house for the crumbling porch view, but Yeosang always remained as the level headed one between the two. Someone had to be.
“My arms are going to rip off of my body,” Yeosang whined. They were already a few meters away from land, but Wooyoung insisted they go further. They each held one paddle, and after ten minutes of arguing how they would go about operating the boat, they fell into a quiet rhythm, turning the paddles at a steady pace.
“Just a bit more,” Wooyoung pleaded, looking above him for navigation. “I just wanna feel like we’re as far from the beach as we are from the sky.”
“That’s impossible,” Yeosang sighed, but he understood what Wooyoung meant. He focused on the burned out blunt on the floor of the boat, the humid air peeling away any sort of nausea he felt from the rocking of the boat. Wooyoung kept his head up, and soon, he pulled in his paddle.
“Okay, I think this is good.”
Yeosang followed suit, watching as his friend grinned. He pulled a box of cigarettes from his back pocket and lit one up, throwing the box towards Yeosang. He didn’t take one for himself.
“What now?”
“Just enjoy the view, buddy.” More puffs of smoke escaped Wooyoung’s lips. Yeosang still had a bit of high in his system, so he leaned back and watched the sky, moving slowly to not rock the boat too much. It did feel a bit like the sky was just above them, a sheet lying at a certain distance, just about to envelope them into darkness, but not quite yet. The beach looked far, and to Yeosang’s intoxicated mind, far was a subjective topic. If both the sky and the beach were far, what’s to say they weren’t at the same distance away from Wooyoung and him right now?
“I was thinking,” Yeosang started, the quiet between them not sitting comfortably with him. “I think I should start a podcast.”
“You sound like a white girl on Instagram.”
“No, for real. Like, I think I have a lot of things to talk about. Important things.” Yeosang cleared his throat, suddenly itching for the cigarette Wooyoung had offered. He scratched his thumb lightly to stop himself. “I could talk about family. Career. The neighbourhood. College. My past and how it relates to whatever opinion I have about the world right now.”
“And you have a lot of opinions, don’t you?” Wooyoung grinned.
“When I become a famous podcaster you can thank me for being invited as the first guest.”
“The fact that you’re already inviting me shows how desperate you are. If you were that good, you wouldn’t need my entertaining ass to cover for you.”
“You don’t think I can make it?”
“Maybe as a bedtime podcaster. You’d be really helpful putting people to sleep.”
“Asshole,” Yeosang smirked. It was always fun, these mini adventures with Wooyoung. Despite knowing Wooyoung since they were kids, Yeosang didn’t run in the same circles as him, even when they got into the same community college. Their friendship was exclusively to the two of them; anyone else who intruded would only bring jealousy from either side, like when Yeosang got his first kiss from a spin-the-bottle game when they were thirteen, or when someone at a party offered Wooyoung his first beer when they were sixteen but didn’t do the same to Yeosang. So they decided to leave their other friends for themselves, and they spent their time together when they couldn’t find anyone else to do the things with. For Yeosang, that meant marathoning Harry Potter movies for ten hours straight, and for Wooyoung, it meant one of these nights out.
“How’s things going with San?” Yeosang asked.
“Okay,” Wooyoung replied, not very enthusiastic about it. “I don’t know how many more times we need to hook up before he realizes I’m actually interested in a relationship.”
“Maybe you should, I don’t know, tell him ?”
Wooyoung faked a shiver. “That’s so scary. What if he doesn’t feel the same? I wouldn’t be able to look him in the eye after. Boohoo, the whore caught feelings, what a bitch baby.”
“He wouldn’t say that.”
“He would think it.”
Yeosang shook his head. “You did catch feelings after hooking up, maybe you are a bitch baby.”
“Shut up,” Wooyoung lightly kicked Yeosang’s shin. The boat was only about five feet long, the distance between them not much at all as they sat on two wooden planks nailed in to make seats, their legs fighting for space with the paddles in between. “You hadn’t even made a move with Jongho.”
“Maybe it’s because I don’t wanna end up like you,” Yeosang raised an eyebrow. “Getting involved before knowing for sure what I want out of it.”
Wooyoung scoffed, rolling his eyes before breathing in tobacco, blowing smoke into the air above them. “For real, though? No progress at all?”
“I mean,” Yeosang cleared his throat, leaning back slightly. “I tried to strike up conversations, about camera settings and stuff. But you know me. Not much of a conversationalist. And, I guess there was that one day during critique, he stood next to me, and he was kinda leaning…”
“Oh my god,” Wooyoung interrupted. “He’s into you.”
Yeosang couldn’t help but feel a grin creep. “Shut up, no he isn't. Maybe there weren’t any other spots around the table.”
“Something tells me you think that wasn’t it though,” Wooyoung grinned playfully, lines of dimples forming on his cheeks. “He strategically chose to stand beside you during critique. Tell me I’m right. Right?”
“I don’t know! Jeez,” Yeosang felt his cheeks warm, his smile slowly growing. He rested his palm on one of his cheekbones to cool himself. He thought about it and, yes, there were other spots around the table, but Jongho and him had been chatting before the critique started while the rest of the class lined their pieces on the table in the middle of the room, so maybe he just chose the spot because he was already there. Thinking that was the highest possibility depressed Yeosang. “Anyway, it was fleeting. Maybe it was a spur of the moment kind of thing. He didn’t act any different after. So no, no progress. He’s so cute though, ugh. Why are crushes so fatal?”
“Kang Yeosang,” Wooyoung called, squinting disapprovingly at his best friend. “You’re cute too, you know that right? Not even just cute, you’re drop dead gorgeous. Do you know how many people die in your hands?”
“I do not know,” Yeosang replied dismissively. “Maybe it’s better I don’t, or else I’d feel guilty all the fucking time just because of my face.”
“My point is, he probably also has a crush on you and you wouldn’t even notice it.”
Yeosang snorted. “Why would he have a crush on me? He’s one of the best photographers in the class, and I’m mediocre at best. He wouldn’t give me a second glance.”
“Have you been listening to what I said?”
“The last time I listened to you I got chased by bees.”
Wooyoung picked up his paddle and stood up on his side of the boat. “Stand up. Let’s battle it out. If I win, Jongho likes you, and if you win, Jongho doesn’t give two shits about you.”
“Are you crazy?” Yeosang almost shouted, glancing from the tip of the paddle blade being pointed towards him to Wooyoung. He was already posing like a warrior, faking a rough demeanor. “You’re going to get us overturned.”
“You know how to swim, right?”
“Fuck Wooyoung, we didn’t take swimming classes together for this ,” Yeosang hissed.
“Get up!” The shout made Yeosang pick up his paddle, slowly standing up, feeling the boat below them rock side to side. “No rules, whoever gets pushed off first loses.”
“This is a bad idea,” Yeosang warned before ducking away from Wooyoung’s sudden attack. He wobbled slightly before poking his own paddle into Wooyoung’s space, a smile forming unwillingly from glee as his friend’s stance broke. Wooyoung stepped back, feet too close together. He waved his arms around before losing his balance, face in dismay as he fell backwards into the water, the plastic weapon following after.
“Shit!” Yeosang cursed before dropping his paddle, stepping towards the edge of the boat where Wooyoung fell off. Wooyoung’s head burst out the surface, gasping for air before waving his arms up for help. Yeosang reached out and pulled Wooyoung back in, and when he laid safely against the seat of the boat coughing up water, Yeosang leaned out to bring the paddle back on board. Yeosang watched as Wooyoung pulled his t-shirt off as he sat on the other side of the boat, wringing it dry before drying his hair with it. They caught each other’s eyes and burst into laughter.
“I hadn’t taken a dip for years now,” Wooyoung told, smile lingering. “Amazing what the human body is capable of when they’re about to die.”
“If you died on me I would jump overboard too, I’m not about to be convicted as the murderer of my own best friend.”
Wooyoung grinned. “I die, you die? That’s some romantic Titanic shit right there.”
Yeosang leaned forward to hit Wooyoung lightly on the chest. “You’re not the movie protagonist you think you are. Stop doing things that’ll get you killed, will you?”
“Are you genuinely upset?”
Yeosang held back a pout. “If you really drowned, it would’ve been my fault.”
Wooyoung kept his glare on Yeosang’s face, watching as his smile faltered, the red of his birthmark even more saturated in the dark. Yeosang noticed Wooyoung staring, and felt his cheeks warm. Wooyoung sat up slightly, leaning closer.
“You really are gorgeous, I mean that.”
Yeosang felt his chest burn in heat, and warm sizzles ran across his cheeks. He didn’t know what it was that kept him from breathing; maybe it was because Wooyoung was shirtless and his hair was wet and stuck on his forehead, or maybe it was the way Wooyoung looked at him like he was the only person on earth, or maybe because they were alone in the middle of a lake where no one could see them, and his intoxicated brain wondered how Wooyoung’s tongue tasted like, imagining his warmth meeting Wooyoung’s.
So he met Wooyoung halfway, leaning in so their lips could touch. Wooyoung’s lips were wet from the cold water dip, with hints of warmth beneath the soft skin. The contrast between temperatures made Yeosang lean closer, wanting to share his heat with Wooyoung. He felt their lips separate and just like that, he let his body take control, moving forward to catch Wooyoung by his bare waist, another hand splayed across his back. Wooyoung tasted like cherry lip balm and salt, and Yeosang wondered if Wooyoung could taste the Kit Kat he ate before they left. Wooyoung reached up to caress Yeosang’s cheek with his thumb, their eyes closed as they felt their tongues meet, then, for a moment, Wooyoung paused, pulling back slightly.
“Wait,” Wooyoung gulped, hand coming down to push Yeosang away by the chest. “Wait, sorry, I- San...”
Yeosang observed Wooyoung’s face for a second before he could process the minute that had passed, then sat back on the seat on his side of the boat, feeling embarrassment wash over him. Wooyoung broke their eye contact, clearing his throat before pulling on the still wet t-shirt. Yeosang looked away, pressing his fingers on his lips while watching the water below them calm as they turned quiet. He massaged his forehead slightly, a guise so he could cover his blushing face from the other.
“I guess Jongho doesn’t like me,” he croaked. Wooyoung glanced up at Yeosang, then back down at the paddles at their feet.
“Come on,” Wooyoung whispered, feeling helpless. “Let’s head back.”
The two picked up their paddles and fell into a rhythm. It worked, the two of them; how they didn’t need to say much to understand each other, how they didn’t actually need anyone else to be happy. But they’ve known each other since they were kids, they’ve watched each other grow in and out of relationships, knew each other’s families too well. If they went any further, what would happen with the relationship they already had?
The two friends returned the boat and paddles back to where they found them, and Wooyoung washed off the sand that had stuck to him on their way out of the water in the restroom. By the time he got back to the car, Yeosang was hitting another blunt, and he offered it to Wooyoung when he approached.
“The night’s still young, huh?” Wooyoung smirked as he took the offer.
“You’re gonna need a new remote for the car,” Yeosang told, leaning against the passenger’s door as he held the set of keys out for Wooyoung to catch. The keys fell into the lake with Wooyoung, but luckily didn’t escape his pocket.
“Life is too short to not experience near death situations,” Wooyoung replied, waving his arms in the air as he snatched the keys from Yeosang. He leaned against the car next to the other, his eyes following where Yeosang was looking; up in the sky that seemed further away than it did back at the lake. Yeosang cleared his throat from the ash that had collected at his trachea.
“Sorry, for what we did, just now,” Yeosang stuttered.
“Are we really talking about it?”
“I mean, you were really reeling me up there,” Yeosang defended himself.
“We don’t have to talk about it, seriously.”
“And you know I can make a million bad decisions when it’s like, what, 2 in the morning? You know that, and you provoked me with all that gorgeous bullshit.”
“Wait, I thought you were apologizing.”
“Yea, I mean, I’m still sorry, but you also kinda kissed back, so. It’s not entirely my fault.”
Wooyoung snorted. “Maybe your podcast could be interesting after all.”
Yeosang leaned closer and wrapped his arms around Wooyoung’s waist, resting the side of his head in the crook between Wooyoung’s neck and shoulder.
“I love you, buddy,” Yeosang whispered. “Are you cold? You’re still wet.”
Wooyoung reached out and rested his hand on Yeosang’s shoulder, rubbing it for comfort. “I love you too. And yea, I’m cold. Let’s get going, okay?”
Yeosang turned so his face rested against Wooyoung’s shoulder. Wooyoung felt a shudder of warm air against his skin as Yeosang spoke. “I don’t wanna go home.”
“Alright. Let’s not go home. We’ll drive around.”
Yeosang finally agreed. In the car, he bit on the edge of the blunt instead of smoking it, knowing that if he was any more intoxicated he would get nauseous from the moving car. He didn’t pass it to Wooyoung either, because in his mind Wooyoung almost drowned because he had weed in his system, and he didn’t want Wooyoung to crash the car either, so he kept it to himself, nibbling on the tasteless rolling paper.
“I thought of something,” Yeosang whispered.
“Hmm?”
“ 2AM. Is that a good podcast title?”
“There’s a literal KPop group named 2AM. The name’s probably copyrighted.”
“That’s bullshit,” Yeosang groaned. “Why would you copyright 2AM? That’s a literal time of the day. Should everyone who says “It’s 2am” pay royalty to them?”
“Still, it’s not good for visibility too. Like, if people look up 2AM they won’t find your podcast first.”
“Okay, okay, 2AM with YeoWoo.”
“I didn’t agree to joining your podcast.”
“Get it? Yeowoo, as in fox?”
“I get it, Yeosang.”
“Shit, it’d be so fun, having a podcast.”
“For the first five episodes, maybe.”
“Yeo-Two-Aye-Am.”
“Now I’m not part of the podcast? Make up your mind.”
Yeosang bit on his pinky as he stared out the window on his side, his tongue stuck out slightly to taste the salt on his skin. They’ve gone around town, from their campus to downtown and now back uptown to their street. Wooyoung had parked in front of his house, not wanting to drop Yeosang off at his place if he still wasn’t feeling like it.
“Is it gonna be dumb?" Yeosang asked. "People are gonna think I’m annoying, babbling on about my life and my opinions. Like, who the fuck cares, right?”
“Hey,” Wooyoung called. He was familiar with the anxiety that sometimes comes with weed, so he tried to calm the other down. “I care.”
“I can talk to you about stuff all the time. Sharing it with the world, that's a whole different thing.”
“I have an idea,” Wooyoung said. Yeosang turned his head to face the other.
“What is it?”
“Bad Decisions. For your podcast title. We can both host it, and we’ll talk about all the late night adventures we’ve had. One episode, one night. Then we’d never run out of things to talk about.”
“This better not garner even more bad ideas from you,” Yeosang frowned. “I’m not gonna deal if you do some ‘do it for the vine’ bullshit.”
Wooyoung leaned closer and pulled Yeosang by the chin, bringing the other closer to his face. There was a quiet moment between them, Yeosang’s face slacking from the initial surprise, and Wooyoung’s lips tightening slightly.
“Can I?” he asked.
Yeosang whispered a soft yes, his lips curling slightly before Wooyoung pushed his tongue into his mouth. Yeosang felt his heart pound in his chest as he kissed back, their tongues dancing around each other, gasping breaths in between. He felt goosebumps on the back of his neck when Wooyoung pulled back with a slight hiss.
“I’m not the only one making bad decisions between the two of us.”
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