Work Text:
There is love in the little things.
Changyoon is 14, breathing in the cold, crisp air of the night. The bonfire rages on next to them, warming his cheeks and illuminating the face of the stranger next to him. Minkyun, he introduces himself as. There’s a guitar on his lap and a shitty old songbook on the log laid out in front of him, every page laminated to protect from the rain. The colour’s still a little faded though. Changyoon is entranced, the chatter of the others, the crackling of the fire, the notes seem to dance through the air alongside it all. He’s a little too lost in the moment, and the marshmallow he’s roasting catches on fire. Minkyun laughs as he watches him scramble to blow out the flame, and Changyoon can’t help but laugh along with him, making up some excuse about how marshmallows taste better burnt anyway. Any requests? Asks the stranger, and Changyoon flicks through the lyric book until he finds something he actually knows the lyrics to. He sings along as Minkyun plays the guitar, reading off the plastic covered sheet when he forgets what words come next. It doesn’t sound perfect in the slightest, but Changyoon looks into Minkyun’s eyes and he could swear he falls in love a little bit.
They’re 15, and Yuto is at a birthday party for someone he doesn’t really know. He’s not quite drunk, but there’s a little buzz of alcohol that makes everything seem a little hazier. He decides he likes it. Someone’s thrown up on the floor in the kitchen, and Seungjun drank a whole bottle of cheap vodka and passed out upstairs. For every person who’s still sort of sober there’s someone else who’s absolutely trashed for them to take care of. Jaeyoung is a sad drunk, Yuto discovers as he finds him moping on the couch with a bottle of pink gin in his hand. He’s this close to tears, and even though they’re not close Yuto can’t stand the sight. He reaches out a hand, and Jaeyoung takes it, letting himself get dragged to the dance floor. They’re just sort of standing there, in their own pocket dimension surrounded by the other partygoers. I’m sorry, Jaeyoung shouts over the music. I didn’t know they were trying to replace you with me, I’d pick you over them any day. Yuto blinks, finding tears well up in his eyes for no reason. It’s okay, he yells back, They’re not my friends anymore. You are. I forgive you. They dance to the Arctic Monkeys song that blares around the room, old grievances forgotten, and Yuto’s chest fills with a warmth that he’s sure isn’t just from the alcohol.
16 comes too quickly, and Hyojin finds himself wishing he could slow down time. Seungjun races through the park, having spotted a travelling fairground on the other side. Hyojin tries his best to keep up with him, he really does, but he’s breathless by the time he catches up. They ride the waltzer so many times they’re almost sick, giggling together as they stumble dizzily back down off the tilted platforms. They don’t really have the cash for it, but the lights of the arcade are too bright and flashy, and they feel like kids again as they try to scrounge up some cash for the coin pusher machine. It’s dumb, but one of the keyrings on display is a little metal dog and Hyojin desperately wants it. He simply laughs when Seungjun asks him why. It reminds me of you, dipstick. Seungjun doesn’t get it. Or at least, he pretends not to. Hyojin won’t give him the satisfaction of an explanation, but he attaches the keyring to his house keys without a moment more of hesitation. If that one’s me, then this is totally you, Seungjun laughs, pointing to a plushie in the claw machine next to them. It’s a little red monster with an open mouth that takes up most of its face. Hyojin can’t help but laugh. They ride the ferris wheel and watch the sunset, and Hyojin takes a moment, thinks there’s something more behind it all, but he’s not quite ready for that. Seungjun’s hand snakes across his lap and intertwines with his own, and Hyojin knows that Seungjun will wait for him as long as he needs to.
By 17 they know there’s not long left all together, and every moment is precious. Six boys sit around a table in the common room, all trying to shout over each other and have their points heard. Silence falls as Changyoon starts counting down from 3, and they all point fingers, casting their votes. There are groans of anguish and shouts of laughter as the hidden role cards are flipped, revealing who had been bluffing and who had actually been telling the truth. I told you all I was the villager! Why would you trust Yuto? Minkyun wails, outraged at being falsely accused. Yuto’s a shit liar, of course we’d trust him over you! The werewolf card lies in front of a smug Yuto, who was secretly just amazed his half baked lie had actually worked. They don’t have time to play another round before the lunch bell goes off, so the bickering continues as they pack up all their stuff. Their stomachs hurt from laughing, but they can’t stop either. Every time they think it’s finally over, someone cracks another joke and sets it all off again. They can hardly breathe, and they wouldn’t change it for the world. They drag out the parting of ways as long as possible, shouting down the corridor to continue the conversation until they can’t make out the words well enough anymore. There’s a spring in everyone’s step as they walk to their next classes, memories of their shared time together still fresh in their minds.
There is love in the moments between moments, in the feeling you don’t quite recognise but always know is there. In forgiveness, in friendship, in something more than that. There is love in the little things.