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The shore always looks different at night, the off-white sand being tinted a light blue whenever the moon shined bright as it does right now. Jungwon stares up at it from his place in the passengers’ seat, the cool AC hitting him from his left and his right as Jay fiddles with the car’s console, tapping away at the touchscreen system that sits just below the rearview mirror.
“I don’t think I’ve been here since…” Jungwon trails off as he realizes. “Since you’ve gone off to school.”
Jay tilts his head at him, eyebrows drawn up as he looks at him. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. It’s just weird without you.” Jungwon shrugs, gaze wandering towards the window and the bright-looking sand below.
When he really thinks about it, the only memories that Jungwon has of the shore are all with Jay, going way back until when they were much younger. The feeling of sand in his hair and cool water up to his thighs as they would fight in the water. Other times, much later times when the shore was void of people, would consist of Jay driving along the beach with Jungwon watching the sand fly into the air behind them, both of them blasting music all the while with bright smiles and laughs. But in more recent times, as they keep growing up, maturity and responsibilities becoming more and more apparent, they find themselves content to simply sit in Jay’s car facing the ocean, basking in the presence of each other for as long as they could.
It was a moment in time that Jungwon would never pass up, every time the opportunity presented itself.
“You know, I thought you would’ve brought some of your college friends back here to show them your hometown or something,” Jungwon looks over at Jay, “The beach is really pretty. And you like sharing things with people.”
“I do,” Jay says slowly, gaze settled on the screen in front of them, “But some things are just special.”
Jungwon raises an eyebrow. “Special?”
Jay pauses to think, looking at Jungwon directly. There’s a glint in his eyes, moonlight reflecting in them. “To be honest, I love my college friends a lot,” Jay says, leaning over the steering wheel to look out at the beach, water calmly washing up the shore, the reflection of the moonlight nothing more than a single wavy stream, “But I miss this. I miss you. I always do.”
I miss you.
Jungwon has never missed people. He’s always vaguely wondered if this makes him a bad person— does he not truly care about the people around him? But it’s not like that— people come, go, and return, and life still goes on regardless. Even if one person is gone, he has someone else, another friend. He has his grandma. He has himself. He has assignments to do, and his own university applications to worry about, and taekwondo lessons to attend. He simply retreats into the bubble of his own life and responsibilities, and everything else just fades away.
Whenever someone says that they miss him, he replies back I missed you too, even if he can’t truly return the feelings.
But sitting here in the quiet thrum of Jay’s car, cool leather pressing against him through his clothes with the familiar sound of Jay’s carefully curated playlist floating in the air makes him all too aware. Aware of the heating of his face, aware of the slow rise of his heartbeat against his ribcage, aware of the distance between him and Jay— something that never comes into his mind until Jay sits right next to him again, warm smile and comforting arms accessible from the very moment their eyes meet.
The words are like a knot in his throat, but it doesn’t matter because Jay speaks up first.
“It’s getting late,” he says, looking at the console screen that reads 12:44 a.m., “I should get you home before your parents freak.”
Jungwon swallows it back down, nodding once with his lips pressed together.
The drive home is silent in terms of conversation, Jungwon content to let Jay focus on his driving as he stares out the window, the wind blowing the hair out of his face to give him a better look at the passing darkness. Jungwon only dares to look away once he feels the familiar turn of the car into the driveway of his home, watching as Jay expertly pivots the car in a three-point turn so that they face the road once again, and Jungwon’s side sits right by the pathway leading to his front door.
“Your driving has gotten so much better,” Jungwon says unbuckling his seatbelt, because when all else fails, Jay is always an easy person to tease.
“Well of course,” Jay sits back to look at him, “How else am I supposed to provide an excellent experience for you?” Because when all else fails, it’s all too easy to think about how Jay lets Jungwon tease him.
Jungwon climbs out of the car, turning around to close the door shut before looking at the other boy through the window. Jay just smiles at him, and it’s even easier to think about how Jay always smiles around him, and how Jungwon does the same too. It’s all so easy, the two of them, and Jungwon wonders how he could ever let himself forget.
“Goodnight, hyung,” Jungwon says, and despite the fact that he’ll most likely see Jay in less than 12 hours from now, he finds himself regretting never reaching out once just to feel the warmth of Jay’s hand in the palm of his own, or to see how his head would fit in the crook of Jay’s neck (it fits like a lock and it’s key: perfectly).
“Goodnight, Jungwon. Don’t miss me too much,” Jay grins, waving him off as the window pulls up. Jungwon could only wave back weakly as he watches the black car head out of his driveway, and into the night.
It’s too late for that, isn’t it?