Archive of Our Own

Soobin hugged his backpack close to his chest. The vivid architecture of Barcelona blurred on his iris as the taxi drove with concerning speed. The radio played an upbeat Ed Sheeran song, easing Soobin’s nerves a bit.

The taxi driver hadn’t made an attempt to speak to him; the language barrier was the greatest culprit of that. 

Soobin pulled his phone from his pocket, keeping an eye on the taxi fare. He wasn’t distrustful of people, but after living a life of being trampled over, one tended to turn wary. He internally sighed in relief when he noticed the numbers rising accordingly. 

He checked the apartment he’d rented for the time being; in the picture it looked great. It wasn’t too fancy; a living room with a pull-out bed, connected to a kitchen with a small bathroom that Soobin would have to squirm his tall frame into. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. 

The car came to a stop with a jolt. Soobin had to hold onto the handle in order not to fly through the front window. The driver turned around with a grin, speaking in broken English mixed with Spanish, as Soobin replied in a Konglish conjunction of his own. 

“Let me help with your bags,” the driver offered. 

Soobin hadn’t gotten the time to reply, for the man had already hopped over to the trunk, pulling out Soobin’s bag holding too little luggage for the non-established longitude of his stay. 

Going to Barcelona had been a lifelong dream of his, but that didn’t mean he’d planned anything in advance, which was rather odd coming from Soobin. He’d been structured all his life – or so he liked to believe. If not structured, he was a player by the rules. He rarely questioned the way of things, nor did he actively rebel against them. 

However, this was an impulsive way of going with the flow. Traveling over to a wildly different continent, far removed from those he knew and loved, was a bold step coming from a natural introvert. He’d always believed there was no place like home and he wouldn’t trade the walls of his bedroom for the world, but at some point it had become suffocating. 

The constant familiarity had taken a toll of him, the days blending into a long, monotone lull. Tuesday or Friday night, Soobin had lost the ability to tell the difference between the two. 

There were times where ‘alone time’ shifted into loneliness and social isolation. Soobin had to kick himself out before he’d get stuck. He’d learn if it was a bad decision or not later. For now, he’d enjoy – sort of. 

He bowed at the driver, thanking him for his assistance and of course paying him. He then turned around, looking up the creme-tinted building. It was tall, but Soobin would be staying on the second floor. 

Soobin slung the bag over his shoulder, making his way inside. The conversation at the front key desk was painful and hard to follow, from both sides. Soobin’s inability to speak Spanish or English, mixed with crippling awkwardness was the perfect recipe for disaster. 

Thankfully, with translation apps and hand gestures coming to his aid, Soobin survived. His fist was curled around the key as if it was now his most prized possession. He’d gone through all those troubles to get it; it was half his lifeline now. 

Just as he was to go up, the clerk called after him, “Sir, the elevator… it is out of order.”

Soobin knees buckled. No… Oh no.

However, Soobin tried to turn his grimace into a smile. He was in Barcelona, after all. He was in the city of his dreams. It was just some stairs. Soobin was an evolved human being. 

He thanked the clerk for informing him, then rushing out of that office as soon as he could. The place didn’t look much better than student housing on the inside, but for its price Soobin had no rights to complaints. 

The stairs were circular. By just looking at them Soobin could feel his head spinning. It’s only the second floor, calm down.

Patting himself on the shoulders, Soobin readied himself for his quest upwards. After the first flight, Soobin concluded that his tiny bag must’ve had rocks packed in them. He took a short break, hands resting on his knees to catch his breath. College must’ve killed his stamina — he assumed, as if he hadn’t walked up and down flights throughout all those years to get to classes. 

At last, he made it. Leaning all of his body weight against the post, Soobin unlocked the door. He was breathing heavily, but this was quite the workout. 

He swung himself inside the apartment, gasping out in relief. It looked just like it did in the pictures. It was even clean — as clean as he could get it. Soobin figured he’d have to look after it himself as well. 

He ran his fingers past the walls, the furniture, all the way to the balcony. He’d shaken off his luggage somewhere along the way, free from the burdens. He pushed open the slide doors, breathing in the city air. 

Hands clenched around the railing, Soobin looked forward to the new beginning. 

+x+

The ‘new beginning’ was proven to be a challenge. Soobin, in all his newfound positivity, had decided to take a stroll to get familiar with the area. 

His first error was not bringing a physical map. To put it simple; he was lost. He had no idea where he’d ended up and navigation had sent him in circles. Peering into his phone screen, turning it, twisting it, trying all angles, he didn’t get any wiser. 

He was so hung up on the fact that he was running around like a chicken without a head, he’d lost the focus on his surroundings. The second error. 

The third one was that his pockets were open. A person bumped into him harshly, making him stumble backwards. Soobin hadn’t even the time to catch a face before his wallet his the ground with a thunderous thud. No… Please, God, no.

It had happened in a slow-motion frame, momentarily frozen in shock. Every vessel in his body was commanding him not to panic. Panicking was something of the past. But that was his wallet they were taking about. 

Soobin dove down, frantically opening up ever pocket and compartment. His money, all gone. Well, fuck me.

He hadn’t caught anything from the thief. No direction, no face, no clothing. He couldn’t possibly go the police either; he should’ve given in to Taehyun’s advice and taken some time to learn Spanish. 

He did, truly, but booking the ticket was something he’d done without very much brains present. There was merely this constant thought, torturing him: When you’re done here, get out. Live for once. Let yourself live. 

He didn’t regret it, even though his adventure was off to a rocky start. He didn’t regret it one bit. 

He’d try again. He typed in the search bar and then— And then his phone froze. 

His fifth error: not charging his phone or checking the battery percentage before leaving his place. 

Soobin watched his phone die out, his reflection laughing back at him in the black screen. “I’m screwed. I’m so, so screwed.”

Instead of dwelling on it for too long – he was this close to sobbing – Soobin decided to follow the signs best he could. He remembered his apartment’s address , somewhere by the beach. However, there lay an issue there; Barcelona had a lot of beaches. Or one very long one. 

Soobin, trying to block out his train of negative thoughts, followed the signs best he could. Staying put wouldn’t help him get back any better. Perhaps he could find a tourist office, buy a map.  

“Improvisation,” he bitterly muttered to himself. 

Still, as he passed the same pole for the fifth time, all traces of hope were flying out of Soobin’s body. With a defeated sigh, he dropped himself on the bench. He didn’t care if people were looking at him funnily; he let himself lie down. 

He needed a moment to recover, collect himself. Otherwise he could spend the night on the bench. At least the view was pretty. Maybe he’d die on that bench, but at least he could say that he saw Barcelona — sort of. 

He wasn’t given much time to dwell. He hadn’t even shut his eyes yet, or someone waved a hand in his face. 

Soobin, groggy and depressed as he was feeling, forced himself up. There he was met with a stranger. A stranger with maroon strands and flowing clothes. Soobin had to blink and if he wasn’t in a sour mood, he would’ve taken the time to actually take in how the man looked. 

He would’ve noticed his feline-like eyes, his plush lips in the color of strawberry lollipops. He would’ve noticed his slender physic and the sleek way he dressed himself. 

His lips were moving fast, speaking in languages Soobin could not follow, even less so understand. He blinked, muttering a “What?” under his breath. 

The man stopped rambling, eyebrows shooting up in pleasant surprise. 

“Oh, you’re Korean too?” he asked, to which Soobin nodded. “Well, do you need any help? You seem lost.”

Instead of features, what Soobin recognized first was the man’s kindness.

Words couldn’t convey Soobin’s relief; it was like a glimpse of familiarity had dawned upon him from Heaven. He would thank the Lord next chance he got. 

“Yeah, my phone died.” Soobin sighed. The man seemed genuine enough. “I’m pretty much stranded.”

To prove his point, he swung the cold and dead screen in the air. 

The man nodded, humming; he was convinced. “Where do you need to be?” he asked. “I cou–“

“Do you perhaps… have any money on you?” Soobin interrupted him. His ears felt hot as he said it; he didn’t like blatantly asking for favors, but today wasn’t a day like any other. 

The man seemed taken aback. “Oh, uh, depends what it’s for?”

“Enough for cheap beer.” Soobin looked down at his feet. “My wallet got nicked. I’m stranded, got no more cash and I need to drink away my misery. I’m not an alcoholic, though.”

“Well, you seem to have had a great day.” The man stuck out his hand. “Choi Yeonjun. Or Daniel.”

Soobin accepted the handshake. “Choi Soobin.”

“Do you even know where to get a drink here?”

“I arrived this morning,” Soobin said. “I couldn’t even locate my head if it weren’t attached to my neck.”

Yeonjun laughed, waving his hand. He patted himself on the chest. “Worry not, for you have me to guide you, Choi Soobin!”

Soobin took a step backward, though his grin told all. “What about stranger danger?” 

Yeonjun eyes were sparkling like the stars. “You aren’t exactly in a position to be picky about people, now are you?”

“It may not sound that way, but I can scream pretty loudly if needed,” Soobin said. 

“Noted,” Yeonjun stuffed his hands in his pockets, “but you fancied a drink? I have the place. Bartender’s pretty fun, too. He wanted to be a barista, but that didn’t work out.”

“Why?”

“His coffee reminded people too much of life.”

“Harsh.” Soobin masked his giggles with a hand. “I wonder what his reviews must’ve looked like.”

“Mainly that his smile was the best aspect of his work,” Yeonjun replied. “He knows he sucks, though, but he’s just stubborn.”

“He’s committed. Gotta give him that.”

Yeonjun had started leading Soobin through the maze of streets, telling him of all the embarrassing encounters he’d experienced when he’d just arrived in the place. He told him that the navigation was tough and that, yes, even though technology had its wonders, physical maps were waaay easier to read. 

At last they ended in a little alleyway that Soobin would’ve definitely overlooked, had he been on his own. The design was plain and he wouldn’t have suspected it to be a bar — club, or whatever — if it weren’t for the music coming from the inside, accompanied by flashing lights. 

Yeonjun held the door open for Soobin. “After you.”

“Thanks,” Soobin said, bobbing his head up and down in a subtle motion. 

Yeonjun smiled in response. “Hey, so where do you want to sit?”

“You can take the lead.” Soobin awkwardly signed ahead of him. He was suddenly painfully aware of his hands and especially what he was and wasn’t doing with them. 

He wondered how uncomfortable he must be making Yeonjun. Crossing his arms, uncrossing. Pockets, out of pockets. 

Two hands crashed on his shoulders and he jolted.

“Geez, Soobin, what are you so jumpy for?” That was Yeonjun’s voice.

“New place, I suppose,” Soobin said, rubbing his temples. “I’m not good at… public.”

“No one cares about what you do,” Yeonjun said. “Unless you decide to take off all your clothes or something like that.”

Soobin screeched through gritted teeth. 

“Yeah, so if you restrain from doing that and stay mildly respectful, you should be fine,” Yeonjun chuckled. Then, in a snap, his attention was gone. 

Yeonjun had raised his hand with another squishy grin. “Choi Beomgyu!” 

From behind a crowd of people popped up a head, mouth in an open smile and big, round eyes nearly rolling out of their sockets. He returned the greeting with triple the enthusiasm. “Choi Yeonjun!” 

“I can see why people kept coming back,” Soobin commented on the side. 

“Don’t tell him that,” Yeonjun warned. “When an attractive person who knows they’re attractive gets told they’re attractive their egos will never be the same again.” 

“Noted.” 

Yeonjun beamed, linking his arm with Soobin’s and dragging him over to the barstools.  He chattered happily along the way, making it as though they’d known each other longer than an hour or two. 

Soobin had always wondered how some people could converse effortlessly and freely like that. 

Yeonjun brought them over, exchanging happy small talk with ‘Beomgyu’. Soobin felt a little awkward, he’d have to admit, being dragged along to a conversation that clearly didn’t include him. 

His foot was bouncing up and down, ready to bolt from the scene. He eyed the place. It wasn’t crowded, but empty was also not the term that fit it. Pleasantly filled. 

“This is Soobin.”

Yeonjun’s voice caused Soobin’s head to snap back with an impromptu wave. “Hi.” 

“Hello, Soobin,” Beomgyu greeted back. “I’m Beomgyu, in case you didn’t hear Yeonjun yelling his lungs out.”

“Hi,” Soobin repeated. 

Beomgyu leaned over the counter. “So, how’d you meet?”

Yeonjun looked over at Soobin, as if he was asking him if it was alright to tell. 

Soobin’s lips broke out into an ashamed smile. “I got lost. Yeonjun found me and offered me directions. We decided to go here first, I suppose.”

“A very great choice,” Beomgyu said, tip of his tongue poking out from between his teeth. “What do you want? I can recommend my cocktails. I make those pretty well.” 

“We’ll start off with something more familiar, Gyu,” Yeonjun hurriedly interjected. 

Beomgyu shrugged. “Your loss.” 

He then proceeded to walk over to the tap. 

“His cocktails suck?” Soobin questioned, hoping he was silent enough. 

“Very much.” Yeonjun quickly painted on a smile when Beomgyu returned. “How have you been doing, Gyu?” 

“I have to work, though, so I can’t really stick around to converse,” Beomgyu said as he brought them their orders, “but nice meeting you, Soobin.”  

Soobin threw back a, “Likewise,” before Beomgyu got preoccupied with new customers. 

“You know, I never actually drink this early in the day,” Soobin commented, taking small sips. 

“Early? Soobin, it’s nine. In the evening.” Yeonjun let out a heartfelt laugh. “You’ve been lost for a really long time, haven’t you?”

“It seems so.” Soobin dropped his head on the counter. “God, I should’ve planned this out better.”

“Hey, don’t beat yourself up.” Yeonjun patted Soobin’s back. “You’ll learn how to navigate your way through this, don’t worry.”

Soobin groaned, but sat up straight again, rubbing his forehead. He did slightly regret the blossoming bump, but it did relieve some of the tension. 

“I’ll pay you back, I promise.”

Yeonjun leaned forward, like he was about the share a secret. “Between you and me, Soobin, I would’ve bought you a drink anyway.” 

“Oh?” Soobin’s gaze fell on the little droplet making its way down his glass. He wiped it away with his thumb. 

“Well, see this as the finalization of our acquaintanceship.” Yeonjun raised his glass, waiting for Soobin to clink it. Soobin complied; the guy saved his life after all. 

After confirming their newfound relationship, Yeonjun downed the drink. Soobin had to gasp, feeling the prickling sensation in his throat just watching it. Soobin had tried doing it once, when he’d gotten too shit-faced at a college party. It had come right back up his nose and the alcohol hit him way too hard. 

He’d made out with a then random underclassman and then proceeded to vomit into a pot. The poor kid had to watch it all, thankfully Kai was an angel and didn’t take it personally. Anyway, Soobin now knew how that downing drinks quickly was, in fact, a very bad idea. 

“So, Soobin, what brought you to this wonderful city?” Yeonjun broke him out of his memories and thankfully so, because Soobin did not want to be faced with that embarrassment any longer. 

Soobin proceeded to draw into the condense. “I just graduated college and realized I’ve… I don’t know, wasted away my years?”

“How so?” Yeonjun had his chest turned to Soobin, his head lazily resting on his hand. “You seem rather put together. Aside from the fact that you were willing to spend the night on a bench in the middle of an unknown city in a foreign land.”

“Yeah, yeah, rub it in,” Soobin rolled his eyes, “but that’s exactly the reason, I suppose. I was… for lack of better words… I suppose I’ve never been willing to put energy into relationships.” 

“And why’s that?” Yeonjun inquired, adding hurriedly, “If it’s okay asking.”

“No, sure, it’s… fine. I’ve never been much of a talker,” Soobin reassured him. “It’s a miracle I’m saying this much to you. I’ve surpassed my weekly word limit by far.” 

Soobin didn’t know why he was being so open with Yeonjun. Perhaps because in the back of the mind there was this nagging thought, telling him that it was okay to spill his guts out; he wouldn’t be seeing the man after this anymore. They were strangers on separate paths, so there was no one Yeonjun could tattle Soobin’s darkest secrets to. 

Besides that, Yeonjun was an easy talker. Soobin had no trouble conversing with him. He listened well, butted in with an anecdote every now and then. The aftermath of cheap beer was kicking into his system, making his fingers tingle and his head fuzzy. He’d noticed how much he’d been laughing, how much Yeonjun had been laughing, even when what they were saying wasn’t funny, per se. 

Soobin leaned his head on his arm, sprawled out over the bar’s table. With a lazy smile he looked up at Yeonjun. In the dull backlighting he looked like an image from an 80s film, sparkling around the edges like an angel. His lips were chattering, something about his passion for dancing.

Soobin swore he was listening, it was just that Yeonjun’s presence was so immense that Soobin found himself succumbing to it. He had never been a strong personality himself, always shy and quiet. Yeonjun spoke so confidently, Soobin wondered where he could’ve possibly mustered it from.  

“… bin… Soobin?”

“Huh?”

“I said let’s dance.”

Soobin was sure he hadn’t processed it correctly, but suddenly Yeonjun’s finger’s were interlaced with his, a massive grin on his face running from ear to ear. 

“Wait, no I–“ 

Soobin didn’t get the chance to finish his sentence, for Yeonjun had already dragged him along. With a bolt, Soobin had been out of his seat and on his feet between a bunch of other people. 

“Sure you do!” Yeonjun cheered him on. “Just follow my lead.”

Soobin did not know what ‘following Yeonjun’s lead’ meant. His palms were sweating, overwhelmed by the sudden question of where they were supposed to reside. “Wait, what do I do?”

“Place your hands on my waist,” Yeonjun instructed. 

“I’m not too sure if I’m gonna do okay,” Soobin tried. “I have two left feet. I don’t exercise. Ever.”

“Don’t talk so much,” Yeonjun said. He took Soobin’s hands to his waist. “I’ve got you, you have nothing to fear. Everyone is too drunk to notice anyway.”

The tension melted out of Soobin’s system at Yeonjun’s touch. He let Yeonjun guide him through it. They were far from the only ones dancing, but all the other sweaty bodies, their cheers and shouts were drowned out. 

The red lighting fell beautifully on Yeonjun’s features, occasionally swapped by a burst of yellow. 

That’s the first impression Soobin had of the man; a warm, temperamental being. Chasing his beliefs. Confidence and joy. A lively fury that had tackled Soobin’s mild, nod-along persona. 

“Get it, YJ!” Beomgyu whooped from behind the counter. He flipped a cocktail mixer.   

Soobin leaned closer, lips brushing Yeonjun’s ear. “You ever gonna tell him that his cocktails suck too?”

Yeonjun let out a giggle at the comment. In the same manner he whispered back, “Let the boy live his dream.”  

Soobin let Yeonjun’s hands guide him, trying his utmost to stay standing up straight while also trying to keep Yeonjun’s feet intact. 

“Close your eyes,” Yeonjun murmured, “and follow the rhythm.”

“But then I won’t see you,” Soobin said. 

“Goodness, you’re so cute,” Yeonjun cooed. He searched for Soobin’s eyes. “Then don’t. I’d gladly let you look at me.”

Yeonjun watched Soobin’s cheeks flush, redder than the alcohol could ever get them to be. The boy looked disheveled, worn out by the events and misfortune. His soft, black locks were tousled, stray strands sticking out. 

Yeonjun wasn’t one to believe in love at first sight, nor did he ever want to be tied down. He had always dreamt of a life of freedom, where the wind would carry him along to the ends of the Earth. Those he’d given his heartache to usually left him behind, so from then on he believed that life tended to let him down. 

This time he wanted to save himself, save his energy, but when he saw the boy, tall but so very small, wandering around in circles he’d fell into his old habit. He’d contemplated it for a while, pacing back and forth as the angel and devil on his shoulder told two wildly different advices. 

So, he ignored them; he found himself running over, saving someone once again. Little did he know that he was saving himself along with it.

+x+

“Come on, come on!” Yeonjun grabbed Soobin’s hand, dragging him along over the streets. 

Soobin spun himself out of the path of a cyclist, hoping he had tourist privileges and wouldn’t get sued. Recovered, he asked, “But… what are we doing?”

“Sightseeing. Grácia. They’re holding their festival now and I haven’t seen it yet either,” Yeonjun chirped. “You mentioned that you have… no plan whatsoever. So…”

The man trailed off, halting in the middle of the city square. The crowd was bustling around them, but they all faded into background blurs as Soobin’s focus panned in on solely Yeonjun’s sheepish grin. He found himself smiling back without having much of a choice. 

He cleared his throat, snapping out of his daze. “What about you, Yeonjun? I can manage on my own.”

“Bold coming from someone who got pick pocketed and lost.” Yeonjun shielded his eyes with his hands in a playful manner, biting his bottom lip in stifled laughter. 

“Don’t remind me,” Soobin groaned, hiding his face in his sleeve. 

“Not till the day you die.” Yeonjun’s grin turned uneven. “But really, Binsie, it’s fine. I’ve been here for four months, I’ve about seen it.”

Soobin’s ears reddened at the nickname, shrinking into his clothes. “But do you want to tag along with me?”

“Well, duh.” Yeonjun rolled his eyes. “Why else would I be here? I crawled out into daylight to meet you.”

“The sacrifice,” Soobin gasped, over-dramatic. 

Yeonjun shoved Soobin playfully. “Tell me about it.”  

Soobin let a lazy beam rest on his lips, hands in his pockets. “So, what do you want me to do?”

“Just enjoy yourself, Soobin. That’s all I can ask of you,” Yeonjun said. “I’ve heard how great it is. I’d love to see it for myself when it’s decorated.” 

“So you’ve been there before?” Relief washed over Soobin. Thank God. He’d been left a little traumatized after yesterday’s incident. And he brought power banks this time as well. His idiot days were over. 

“I know the place by heart,” Yeonjun assured him. “I love taking pictures there.”

To prove his point his pulled up his vintage camera, that hung around his neck so naturally Soobin had failed to notice it wasn’t a part of Yeonjun. 

Soobin’s brows shut up in pleasant surprise. “You’re a photographer?”

“I believe I’ve had enough practice to be one,” Yeonjun said. He ushered Soobin to come walk along with him. 

The buildings were high, warm in an earthly way. It was as if this orange hue was constantly cast over it, though that could just be the tourist experience. Soobin knew, after moving to the city, that living in places could strip them from their beauty. 

Once things became normal, they became boring. He didn’t look out in wonder when he was in Seoul any longer. It had become a static where instead he noticed the ugly parts more often. When he thought of Seoul, he thought of traffic jams, of pollution and school. 

He only thought of walks by the Han river as an after thought, of lovers’ locks scattering the bridges and of the cute cafes. He hoped to see the world in its beauty once again, like he’d never lost that type of view in the first place. 

Yeonjun was strolling next to him, halting shortly to take a shot of the crowd. “Sorry,” he apologized after, “it was just very pretty.”

Once they resumed their journey, Soobin asked, “But, why a vintage one? Newer ones have higher quality and no rolls.”

“I quite like the process of preparing the pictures,” Yeonjun replied. “I never know how they turn out until I’ve done the whole process of soaking and drying in the red room. It’s a surprise and it takes just a little more nurturing.”

“You have the patience?”

“Not usually,” Yeonjun admitted through a chuckle. “Just when I care enough for it. Smile.”

Soobin’s eyes widened. As reflex to seeing the camera being raised his fingers shot up into a peace sign. A flash blinded his vision, black spots flickering in front of his eyes. 

Recovered from the damage he was met with Yeonjun’s face, nose scrunched up as he giggled. 

“Bet you it looks adorable,” he said, amused smile on his face. His eyes twinkled at Soobin. “Don’t worry, you’ll get them.”   

Soobin didn’t have it in him to be mad or even annoyed. Instead, his surprise melted into a content grin, mirroring Yeonjun’s expression. 

He couldn’t tell how long they’d stayed there as the streets started filling up. He couldn’t help it. The sounds had been drowned out, leaving him in a daze of content. The lazy summer breeze didn’t do much to remind him of the reality around him, especially if Yeonjun was wearing the traces of a summer daze. 

His clothes were flowing, dancing along to the rhythm of the wind as he moved with the utmost grace. Soobin wondered if that’s what being carefree did to a person; to be so light that even nature moved along in their favor. 

“Oh!” Yeonjun suddenly exclaimed, scratching behind his ear. “Right, I was going to give you a tour!” 

“It’s… yeah, no…” Soobin presented Yeonjun the road. “Lead the way?” 

Soobin shouldn’t be apologizing or waving off Yeonjun’s efforts. Yeonjun had gone out of his way to guide him through a place he was only familiar with through images. 

“What can I expect?” Soobin asked. 

“Well, it’s a competition.” Yeonjun pursed his lips. “Like, each streets decorates and who has the most beautiful wins. There’s a lot of stands as well, and activities! It’s pretty laid back, I guess. To me, at least.

“Anyway! We should get going!” Yeonjun was a ball of energy, hands flailing in a beckoning motion. “Stick close to me! I promise it’s beautiful!”

Soobin didn’t know otherwise, so he hurried to keep up with Yeonjun. He didn’t want to repeat the events of yesterday. He narrowly avoided some passerby, tracing Yeonjun’s tall frame out of the crowd. 

Yeonjun’s head turned left and right, a frown knitting his brows together. He turned around. 

Soobin froze, the breath having momentarily been knocked out of him. 

The sounds around them faded out, passing them in chattering blurs of color. All that remained was them. Yeonjun’s figure, his sparkling eyes and his hearty laugh. Yeonjun stepping closer to him, wading through the sea of strangers. 

His image grew, bigger, closer. 

A gentle touch wrapped itself around Soobin’s wrist. 

Soobin looked down, gaze trailing up to see the owner of the hand. Plush lips, stretched into a beam of sunshine. 

“Found you,” Yeonjun whispered. 

+x+

Soobin was shielded. Yeonjun had noticed it early on. The man was reserved, clearly not experienced in navigating his way through life or asking for help. But Yeonjun could admire him. 

He admired the fact that despite his initial discomfort, he still pushed through to make his dream reality. He admired the fact that Soobin had pushed himself out of his comfort zone to give in to his heart’s desire. 

Such things had never been an issue for Yeonjun. He was a feelings-before-rationality type of guy. A wild card, going with whatever felt right in that moment. He knew what he wanted and he’d allow himself to have it — sometimes failing, as his goals had a tendency to be unrealistic from time to time. 

He had a tendency to be overly positive and overly confident, believing in the best outcome. Yeonjun believed in hard work; he could work to reach anything. Anything could be reached. That’s how he ended up traveling the world in the first place. 

He’d decided in his early teens that he wanted to get out of the city and see what was beyond that. He’d worked all the minimum wage jobs, pile upon pile, saving it up for that dream to become reality. He could do what was needed, handle all the scolding if it meant he’d get a step closer to his goal. 

From Yeonjun’s observations, Soobin was a little bit on the safer side. He liked security, liked have plans and someone to make those plans for him to tag along with. That’s why it was a rather bold move for the man to have traveled across the world with no idea on how long he was going to stay and how he would fill his time. 

But Yeonjun wanted to keep Soobin company. He liked to share his time with him, help him through the confusion and share his favorite parts. 

“Are you enjoying it?” Yeonjun asked. 

The streets of Gràcia were dressed for festivity. Decorations in all colors known to the spectrum, this one having flowery papier-mâché hanging form the houses this time. It was like walking through a reverse garden, where they were hanging upside down from the earth. 

The crowd was restless and bustling, but Soobin didn’t seem to mind, walking along in his own pace. They couldn’t rush him.

Soobin’s face was glowing. “It’s so bright. It’s like the rainbow is coming down on me. It’s lovely.” 

Soobin continued walking, straight into a paper garland. First came a yelp of surprise. Then small giggles, growing into a strong fit of laughter. 

His hands went up to the garland, playing with its plushes. It was a pure sight, the simple delight painted on Soobin’s already soft features. Dimples on his cheeks, unbothered and amused, showing no traces of any awkward first encounters. 

Yeonjun pulled out his camera, snapping quick shots of Soobin’s laugh. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart flutter. Soobin was just that endearing. He didn’t know the boy, could much less say if he had a crush on him, but he was intrigued. 

Soobin was like a hint of a haven; he had a familiarity that Yeonjun found comfort in, which was quite funny seeing how Soobin was a stranger at most – perhaps they’d moved on to acquaintances. 

Soobin was a tug at his heart, a glimmer of the home Yeonjun had left to see the world.

Soobin didn’t speak much, but when he did Yeonjun couldn’t help but be absorbed by his words. For now he’d want to get to know this man better. 

The day was beautiful, the time was beautiful, Soobin was beautiful. Yeonjun hadn’t seen such brightness in a while. Of course, the city never failed to surprise him, but this time it had been like he’d been dragged down a river and to Soobin. 

No matter when or where, his mind wandered to soft cheeks with deep dimples, a laugh the made his insides melt and puffy eyes that crinkled when they met joy. 

Yeonjun had been a hopeless romantic all his life. He wasn’t ashamed of the fact. He loved the soft feeling of adore, dreamt of finding his one in a million through the most regular activities, loved the idea of falling slowly to hypnotizing ballads. 

He wanted to exchange empty dialogue where happiness was all they could remember from it, wanted late night talks filled with deep meaning and philosophies. Uncanny adventures, comfortable embraces; he’d want to discover it all with a special someone. 

He had relationships in the past; not many, but enough to learn something different from each of them. He’d experienced first love, high school romance, college lovers. It was rosy, but it knew thorns as well. 

The first relationship burned with such an intensity the flame had died out before they could even get to properly know each other. The next moved too slow, that Yeonjun believed that even after a significant amount of time he still didn’t know his partner. 

And of course there were all the crushes he hadn’t even attempted. He was more than satisfied just watching from a distance, because if they would actually get closer, Yeonjun knew that pink-tinted charm would wear off. 

Yeonjun thought he was pretty good at predicting things. He could see fairly well if something would work out or if he should stop trying. 

A small stand caught his attention. Keeping one eye on Soobin, Yeonjun snuck off. Soobin was still engaged by the visuals, blinded by the color rush and beauty of it all. 

Yeonjun greeted the man, eyes scanning the various types laid out. He glanced back at Soobin. 

Soobin was blue. A tender pastel blue, rolling off of him, making it so that those around him felt eased just by his presence. Sympathetic and mild. It was endearing. 

With a smile he turned back to the vendor, pointing at his choice. He cradled it to his chest, making his way to Soobin. 

Soobin hadn’t even noticed him approaching. He was mesmerized by a row of fairy lights, though they couldn’t sparkle with the same intensity as his eyes did. 

Yeonjun snuck closer, standing on his toes to reach over his shoulders.  

“Soobin.” 

Soobin’s body twitched in a startle, hand going over his chest. Blinking, he turned around, “Yeonjun.” 

Yeonjun had his arms crossed behind his back. “Offer me your arm?” 

Soobin’s head tilted to the side, the confusion visible on his features. 

The edges of Yeonjun lips curved up. He presented what had been hidden behind his back; a woven bracelet, made with blue threads. From it dangled a charm in the shape of a shooting star. 

Soobin’s jaw dropped, pointing at himself. “Oh my— Uh—“

“As a token to this memory,” Yeonjun hurried to explain. “It’s a little gift, from me to you. So you’ll have a keepsake.” 

Soobin nodded, ears tinted a sweet pink. With his gaze focused on his wrist, he stretched out his arm. 

Yeonjun’s fingers worked like charms, leaving sensational tingles every time they brushed Soobin’s skin. 

Then, as if it was a crime, Soobin snuck a peak at Yeonjun, only to find him already looking at him. 

He couldn’t exactly pinpoint the expression, but it was all positives. There were glimmers of fondness, of adore and curiosity. But most of all it was inviting, like he was urging Soobin to come along on this adventure with him. 

Behind them, canons of confetti went off, showering them in golden glitter. Soobin couldn’t say his heart was doing much better. 

+x+

The terrace at sunset was mesmerizing, as were most of the things Soobin had seen. However, this was something else. The sky was dotted with cotton candies, rich and fuzzy. Soobin wanted to taste them, even though science told him that was a bad idea. 

He sipped away at his sangria, the wine burning his throat. It warmed him up from inside out, starting from his chest and spreading to his fingers till they tingled. Soobin would like to believe he had quite a tolerance, but this sangria was something else. 

He fished out a piece of fruit, popping it in his mouth. He was not sure if it was ethical, but it looked too appealing for him to let it go. 

Yeonjun was once again dressed in a loose-fitting attire, making it easy for him to move. His camera was still slung around his neck, like it was an accessory. 

It had been two weeks since he’d first arrived and he had to admit that — even though it was still hard — navigating had become less of a task. Still, Soobin had a map on him at all times now. 

He’d encountered Yeonjun nearly daily, the man always finding his way to Soobin’s apartment one way or another. He was there that afternoon as well, after announcing through text that he’d wanted to treat Soobin to a real nice dinner. 

Soobin was reluctant and he hoped that Yeonjun didn’t feel burdened by him. Yeonjun had quickly shut the thought down. “I like being around you,” he’d said, “and building up this friendship. I know you’ll make up for it.” 

That was how they found themselves in the situation they were now, waiting for the sun to go down and the night to settle. 

Yeonjun, as always, was being annoyingly attractive, the way he licked his lips after ever sip, or how he leaned back into his chair with his eyes shut, just enjoying the moment. He looked stupidly beautiful, but he always did. 

Soobin blamed it on the fact that the guy had a great personality as well. Good looks? Check. Good personality? The death of Choi Soobin. So perhaps he was crushing on Yeonjun just a teeny tiny bit, but it happened when he was the only person he personally knew. It was the law of proximity and encounters. 

Anyone with a sensible mind could see that Yeonjun was lovely. Soobin just happened to know just how lovely Yeonjun could be — and there was still so much to unpack about him. About them. 

Soobin mindlessly played with his bracelet. “I’ve never thought… I never thought I’d ever do… this.”

“Do what?” Yeonjun scooted his chair next to Soobin’s. 

“It may sound stupid, but I was losing myself being stuck with only myself,” Soobin said. “I was really slipping. So, I finished college and left. I have all my life left to work. I needed to get out before that.”

“Seems like a neat plan to me,” Yeonjun said, amused. “This was my way of avoiding life.”

Soobin hummed. “What was your major?” 

“A rollercoaster ride.” Yeonjun chuckled lowly, though it wasn’t out of shame. It was more of a trip back to that time, all the confusion and the loss he’d felt. “I switched more times than I’d like to admit. Nothing really stuck till I admitted that I was only choosing what I thought would make me successful.”

“So, what is it that’s captured your heart?”

“Film,” Yeonjun said, his face gleaming with pride. “It may not be what people would deem a ‘smart choice’, but I’m confident. I’m documenting my travels as well, though that’s a personal project.”

Soobin exhaled audibly. “Confidence is what helps you make it in this world.”

“Are you confident?”

“Getting there.” 

Yeonjun took pleasure with that answer. “Starting is always the hardest part. But I think you started quite strongly. Not everyday you say, fuck it, and buy a plane ticket.”

Soobin let out a whine, but didn’t go in on it further. 

“Should I guess what your major was?” Yeonjun continued. 

“Can you?”

“Psychology.” When Soobin shook his head, Yeonjun tried again, “Law!” 

“I would cower in the court room,” Soobin helpfully supplied, hiding a smile behind his hand. 

Yeonjun squinted. “Botany.” 

“Oh god no. No sciences.” Soobin shuddered. He clapped. “Alright, I’ll spill. It’s Literary Studies. I’m a book nerd, you caught me. I put notes in books for fun.”

“You could become a scriptwriter,” Yeonjun said, “and I did film. We would make a power duo. You could double as actor.” 

Soobin playfully threw his bangs back. “Flattering me? I don’t think so.”

Yeonjun wiggled his eyebrows. “Your cheeks say otherwise.”

“It’s the Asian glow,” Soobin defended himself. “It’s because they definitely put something stronger than just wine in these sangrias.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Yeonjun shook his head, feigning disappointment.  

Soobin rolled his eyes a tad bit too exaggerated. “Psh, as if.”   

“Hold that pose,” Yeonjun instructed, hand going to his camera. “I’ll prove just how you look. You’ll see, I’ll be right.” 

Soobin choked on his drink, coughing violently. He covered the lens with his hand. “Wait— Fuck, a— a moment, please.” 

Yeonjun hoped patting Soobin on the back would be enough to stop him from dying; it would be a little unfortunate to have Soobin die on him. Yeonjun had established early on that Soobin was pretty cute and that he was adorable with his little antics. When his eyes got all sparkly in excitement, how his legs never knew how to stay still. 

He stumbled over his words and created new ones. A practicer of the art that is language. It didn’t help that Soobin wasn’t ugly either. But Yeonjun’s infatuation was fueled by way more than that. 

When he first met Soobin, he had been blue, like an inviting lake. Blue like an oasis amidst a scorching desert. But now, after having met him more frequently, Yeonjun could see dashes of yellow, flares of red. He could see proud purples and comforting browns. 

He saw Soobin opening up to him as a person, and he was loving every moment of it. 

The sun soon had set, and they’d walked over to the beach. They were slightly tipsy off that sangria, but of course that wasn’t enough. Nothing quite beat drinking beers and contemplating life — in Soobin’s humble opinion. Especially now that he knew his limits. 

With their toes in the sand, sat on Yeonjun’s jacket — the gentleman — they looked over the now black see. The moon’s reflection rippled in the subtle waves. 

Soobin peeked to the side. Yeonjun looked over the ocean with half-lidded eyes. His arms were rested on his knees, slouched forward. 

Soobin didn’t want to see anything else. Now, with Yeonjun by his side, he wished for such scenes to become familiar. To be in such calm settings, where they didn’t speak much and where being next to one another would be enough. 

Soobin had run out of words. No words could do Yeonjun justice. He’d spent his college years analyzing the most complicated metaphors, the most odd descriptions and all the ways authors had attempted to describe love. 

Soobin didn’t know much about love. He’d never exactly experienced it. Only from parents, friends, but never romantic. Soobin knew that this wasn’t love — yet. But it could become that. The infatuation between them could grow to something more. 

His hand went over to the bracelet. “Yeonjun, what do you think loving someone requires?”

“Love? That’s deep.” Yeonjun licked his lips. “I think… I think that to love someone, you have to love yourself first. You can’t rely on someone else to return the favor and fill you up. It’ll tire them out and you’ll never feel satisfied. 

“You’ll always feel like you’re not enough and they will continuously try to prove you wrong. That’s how the flame of love dies out.” 

Soobin took the silence as an opportunity to let the words sink in. He wouldn’t say he hated himself, but sometimes he strongly disliked himself. It was for the stupidest actions, to bad habits that could consequently hurt him. 

“What about you?” Yeonjun asked him. 

“Me? Well…” Soobin tugged at the bracelet. “I think that to love someone, you have to see them through their ugliest moments. To see what monsters they can become and gage if it’s safe to stay around. 

“I guess it falls into what you said as well. I don’t really know where I’m going with this, either, but I guess…” Soobin eyes flicker over to the sea. “I want to get to know you, Yeonjun.” 

“Was that a confession?”

“I guess you could call it that.” Soobin drew random hearts into the sand. “But I think you deserve a proper one. This one was messy.”

“As a perfectionist myself, I have to tell you that I don’t mind,” Yeonjun said. He ran his hands over Soobin’s back. “Really, Soobin, I know that everything showed in movies is… fake. I don’t need anything grand and flawless.”  

“What did I even confess, though?” Soobin asked, because, really, everything had just been blurted out, no filter. 

“An interest?” Yeonjun shielded the side of his mouth, whispering in Soobin’s ear, “Well, secret sharing time, but I’m very drawn by you as well.” 

Soobin blinked a few times. “Hey, would you… would you mind coming over?” 

Yeonjun’s eyes grew so big that the entirety of his irises were visible. “To your place?”

“Yes?” 

“Uh, I’m not… sure…” Yeonjun picked at his shirt, avoiding Soobin’s stare. 

Soobin frowned, wondering if he’d said something wrong for the atmosphere to shift so suddenly. And then. 

“Oh… Oh!” Soobin’s cheeks dusted pink in realization. “Not like that! I just… yeah… I should’ve thought this through, sorry…”

“Let’s settle this as a miscommunication.” Yeonjun offered his handshake as a truce. 

Soobin had never before shaken someone’s hand with that much eagerness. “Yup, yup. Miscommunication.” 

“But I’d love to see your place from the inside.” 

Soobin grinned. The way back was vague, and woozy. The night sky spun with blobs coming closer every now and then. Drunken words, random confessions, a rain of compliments. The moment they’d arrived at the apartment, Soobin fell onto the bed, Yeonjun toppling on top of him. They were knocked out within seconds. 

The camera rested on the countertop, filled up with a plethora of new memories.

+x+

The first thing that greeted Soobin’s sleep-drunken and hungover head was the ridiculing blaring of his phone. Soobin tapped the nightstand, though there was something hindering him from reaching out. 

Groggy, he looked down. Tufts of red hair, a heavy weight keeping him down, a leg wrapped around his body. Oh god. 

Soobin didn’t get the freedom to panic — besides; panicking was something from the past —, for his ringtone rang through again, sounding more shrill that it had at first. 

Yeonjun stirred and as much as it made Soobin’s heart flutter and his brain urged him to coo, there were red lights and alarms going off. 

He patted Yeonjun on the back, then tried to pry himself free from the grasp. 

His phone stopped ringing. 

Soobin deflated in relief. It was the most stress he’d felt since his final exams and Soobin was one very sensitive to stress. He’d needed a little mascot — a chestnut with a face carved into it, courtesy of his amazing best friend — to get through those. 

Yeonjun groaned, stretching out. “Who was that?”

Soobin didn’t know if it was the sleepiness or that Yeonjun was always this casual about waking up, entangled with a whole other person, but he didn’t seem fazed in the slightest by their position. 

“I, uh, don’t— I don’t know.” Soobin watched Yeonjun rub his eyes, his hair sticking up, fuzzy and adorable. “Didn’t get the chance to check.”

“Oh, well.” Yeonjun paused, offering Soobin a tightlipped smile, eyes still shut. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” Soobin sighed; there was no point being awkward about it. All that would do was make him feel horrible and really, he didn’t need any of that. That was the whole reason he fled across the globe in the first place. 

Instead he let his pillow engulf him, blessed by the image that was Yeonjun in the morning. The curtains were closed, but the linen didn’t do much to block out the rays of sun. The brought out Yeonjun like he was the center of an eighteenth century painting.  

However, Soobin’s phone seemed to have a personal grudge against him. It was buzzing and screaming violently; whoever wanted to reach him, he wondered what their fucking deal was because he would not hesi— 

Seeing the ID, his eyes widened. “Shit, it’s Taehyun!” 

Yeonjun, in the process of entering the world of the awoken. “Who?” 

“Nothing, you just go get ready!” Soobin threw his sheets off, ruffling Yeonjun’s hair. “I’ll take this call!” 

He tripped all the way to his ‘living room’, leaving Yeonjun behind in a sleep-drunken daze. 

Soobin swiped the green button, immediately being met with a less-than-amused Taehyun. 

“Hello, Soobin,” he greeted tightly. “Took you long enough.”

“Hey, Tae…” Soobin ran his fingers through his tangled hair. “I was sleeping.”

Taehyun’s face was set in a deadpan. “I can see that.”

Soobin tried if the ‘awkward giggle method’ would save him out of this one, but Taehyun’s suspicious frown only deepened. Soobin was looking a step away from a neurotic wreck. The following crash didn’t help either. 

It wasn’t surprise on Taehyun’s face. Instead, he smirked, like he’d been proven correct. “Soobin? Who’s there?”

Yeonjun appeared in frame, asking a muted, “What?”

Soobin rushed to get up, covering Yeonjun with his frame. “It’s, uh, the housekeeper!”

“Housekeeper?” Yeonjun wasn’t getting the hint. He pointed at himself. “Wait, that’s me?” 

Taehyun scoffed at the lame excuse. “You can’t afford a housekeeper. And alleged housekeeper does not seem to agree.”

“It’s just a thing here,” Soobin managed to cough up. “It came with the apartment.”

“Why are they Korean, though?” Taehyun squinted his eyes as Yeonjun pushed Soobin aside. “And attractive. Hola, señor guapo.”

“Hi.”

Soobin was going to get a stroke. “Yeonjun!”

Yeonjun blinked in his faux innocence, pouting. “I’m only responding to the truth.”

“Yeonjun, huh? Hello, I’m Taehyun, but I’m better known as Soobin’s impulse control.” Taehyun shielded his mouth as if Yeonjun wouldn’t hear everything he was going to say. “Hey, Soobin, where can I get a housekeeper like that?”

“Taehyun, please, I’m going to hang up.”

“No, let the boy speak,” Yeonjun interrupted the bickering. “He’s making points.”

“Attractive and an intellectual,” Taehyun cheered. 

Yeonjun slung his arms around Soobin’s shoulders. “I like him.”

“Muchos gracias,” Taehyun responded. 

“How did you even get the time to learn Spanish phrases?” Soobin asked, incredulous. 

“Dora the Explorer,” Taehyun stated casually. “She may be slow, but I’ve learned enough. And the primary colors as well. Azul, rojo, amarillo—”

“We get it, Tae!” Soobin rubbed his head. So much for Taehyun giving him his ‘stress-antidote’. “Oh my god, hang up!” 

Taehyun’s expression turned smug, eyebrows dancing suggestively. “Oh? You want alone time?” 

“Goodbye.” Soobin’s thumb rammed the red button to Taehyun’s evil cackling. 

“Aw, why?” Yeonjun rested his chin on Soobin’s shoulder, bottom lip jutted out. “I thought he was a pretty fun guy.” 

“Uh huh, but not when he wakes me up way too early,” Soobin said, fanning his face. He blew out all of his panic. 

Yeonjun searched the place for a clock. “Nine-thirty, not that early.”

Soobin crossed his arms. “If we went to bed at… I don’t even know o’clock, then that is early.”

“Psh, dramatic, aren’t we.” 

“Isn’t he the one who woke you up as well?”

Yeonjun hadn’t move an inch, patting Soobin’s chest. “Nah, that was because me mattress-slash-pillow shifted.” 

“You were totally enjoying that.” Soobin sniffled, wiping away faux tears. “Broke my heart, seeing you wake, but then you did it as the cutest little kitten, so that made up for it.” 

“I don’t look like a kitten.” 

“You kinda do… It’s devastating. And adorable.” Fluffy images of Yeonjun invaded Soobin’s mind. He smiled a small smile. “You go out, wearing all these clothes that make you feel super cool, but boy, oh boy, literally a soft bean.” 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Yeonjun gave in, though not without a scowl.“Do you have a fridge?”

Soobin pointed. “Yes.”

“Is that fridge full?”

Soobin coughed, looking away. “I’ve got eggs, bread, honey and almond milk.” 

Yeonjun’s lips were pressed into a line. “Not even fruits?”

“No,” Soobin replied, voice small.  

“That’s gonna be the most bland and sad excuse of French toast ever.” Yeonjun clapped, parting from Soobin. 

“Hey!” Soobin exclaimed, though he knew it was to mask the sudden cold that had hit him. Yeonjun had been warm, his cuddles even warmer. “Wait, you’re gonna cook?”

“I mean, I slept here, lived off your expenses… Least I could do,” Yeonjun said. “And… I don’t know if I trust your skill.”

Soobin gasped, hands twitching at how offended he felt. “I’m a good cook!”

“You can prove that by beating those eggs.” Yeonjun pulled out the box of eggs, holding it up for Soobin to grab. 

Yeonjun was crouched down in front of Soobin’s fridge, humming as if he’d half-expected that Soobin had been lying, only to be smacked with the empty reality. With a sigh he handed over the almond milk. 

“Why almond milk?” he asked.  

He was struggling with the stove, so Soobin hopped in and handed him the lighter for it. “It tends to struggle.”

“Thank you,” Yeonjun said softly. Then with utmost concentration he battled the stove again. “So, almond milk?”

“Well, because it’s the best creation ever and it’s heavenly and—“

Yeonjun blinked at him. “Are you lactose intolerant?”

“Yeah…” Soobin scratched behind his ear. “Not severely, though, but milk has a personal grudge against me. Well, I know what I can and can’t eat. Thankfully ice cream is fine for some reason, but if I drink milk… my body will hate me.” 

“Well, good to know for future reference!” 

Future reference. Future… reference… Soobin’s heart started beating faster, readying itself for a jump to Cloud Nine; Yeonjun wanted to keep knowing him in the future. 

Yeonjun pointed down at the pan on the stove, eyeing it with suspicion. “This clean?”

“Yeah, I just didn’t put it back in place,” Soobin replied. “It’s kind of pointless, if you’re going to use it again anyway.”

“Yeah, true.” Yeonjun motioned at the bowl in Soobin’s hands. “You done beating those?” 

Soobin, proud of his creation, gave it. “Yup, yup!” 

Yeonjun scanned the shelves, empty and inhabited by spiders and their cobwebs. He looked physically pained. “You don’t even have vanilla or spices… My heart…” 

“I don’t Spanish,” Soobin defended himself. “I couldn’t read half of what they were selling.” 

“Fair point,” Yeonjun sighed. “Oh well… Bread.”

Soobin reached out for the loaf, ceremonially handing it over to Yeonjun. 

Yeonjun rolled his eyes, pinching Soobin’s cheek and muttering, “You’re so cute,” before proceeding with the cooking. 

Unconsciously Soobin’s hand traveled up to cup his cheek, a furious blush creeping up his neck. He wouldn’t be of much help, so all he did was watch Yeonjun from the side. His hair fell in front of his eyes like a curtain, still dressed in the clothes of the previous night. 

The scene looked so domestic and natural; Soobin knew he’d be fantasizing about it for long after. In the corner of his vision he spotted the camera. It was begging to be used, lens looking straight at him. 

Confirming that Yeonjun was indeed too busy to be bothered, Soobin slid over to it. He remembered Yeonjun explaining to him how it worked, allowing Soobin to take a few landscapes as practice. 

It felt cozy in Soobin’s hands; he could understand why Yeonjun enjoyed using it so much. Load the flash with his thumb, focus, click.

Accompanied by a flicker of light and a loud snap, Yeonjun froze in action, as if he had been trapped in the picture. His head whipped back, mouth open in shock. 

He was met with Soobin’s deep giggling, his dimpled smile too precious for this world. The weapon was still in his hands. “I thought I’d try it for real this time. I found a nice model.” 

Yeonjun bit his bottom lip, suppressing a smile of his own. “Just ‘nice’?”

“Hmm? Well… I’ve seen better.” Soobin feigned nonchalance. 

“Better? Than—“ Yeonjun stepped forward, pressing Soobin’s body to the counter. Their noses were brushing together and Soobin swore he could see Yeonjun’s gaze hovering over his lips. His eyes were so close Soobin couldn’t dare try to avoid them. “—this?”

Soobin gulped down a yelp of surprise. His palms were pressed on the kitchen’s cold top, his breaths raspy. The proximity, the closeness. He was used to having Yeonjun close, since Yeonjun wasn’t very aware of the concept ‘personal space’, but damn, he’d never felt it this way. 

He could see every little detail on Yeonjun’s face. He could see the remaining smears of glitter underneath his eyes, the slight imperfections and acne scars. His the sharp glint of his look, dark and confident. 

Flaming reds, all over Soobin’s body. He wanted it. He so badly wanted to taste Yeonjun, hold him close, feel his hands run over his back. To have him wrap himself over him completely, taking his body and soul. He wanted Yeonjun. He wanted all of him. 

It hadn’t been long that he’d known Yeonjun, but he was running his mind on loop. He wanted to make the time he spent with Yeonjun longer. Wanted to know what more there was to him. 

Yeonjun was a frontal force that Soobin could not resist. His voice was louder than his thoughts, stirring him in all directions he never thought he’d go. He admitted defeat. 

But not today. 

Soobin cleared his throat. “Is that breakfast burning?” 

Yeonjun had never sprinted faster. They had to mourn their charred creation, but the first ones are bound to be bad.  

+x+

Soobin looked over in Yeonjun’s direction. His feet were set in the sand, head facing the sky. The wind tousled his locks, as if they were running their fingers through the maroon dyed strands. He looked wonderful, at ease. 

The setting sun contoured the features of his face, from his high cheekbones to his full lips. His almond-shaped eyes crinkled at their corners as he danced around with a little girl, twirling her around. 

The strums of guitars, vivid and filled with Spanish fury, broke through the excited laughter. Yeonjun’s nose scrunched up. He looked over at Soobin, beckoning him to come over. 

Soobin shook his head, but that didn’t stop Yeonjun. He whispered something in the little girl’s ear. She tilted her head with a questioning smile, but Yeonjun bent over to add a little more information. 

She nodded eventually, letting go of Yeonjun’s hand and skipping over to Soobin. “That mister told me he wanted a dance.”

In his tarnished Spanish, Soobin mustered, “Well, tell that mister I don’t dance.”

It seemed the girl had understood him – though it took her a moment to process. She frowned, lips turning to a pout. “But then I won’t get my ice cream.”

Soobin looked over the girl’s head, glaring at Yeonjun. Yeonjun only shrugged, doing a little shoulder dance as he stuck out his tongue. 

He crouched down to the girl’s height. “I’ll make sure you get that ice cream.”  

He marched over to Yeonjun with a newfound sense of justice. How dare he? He was going to bring that girl justice. He waded his way through the sand, getting it all in his shoes. He paused, pulling his beatdown sneakers off and opting to carry them instead. 

As he reached Yeonjun, he flung them to the ground. “You better give her that ice cream you promised.”

Yeonjun smirked. “I don’t back down from my promises.” 

“I didn’t think you would result to bribery,” Soobin said as Yeonjun laid his arms in Soobin’s neck. “Especially not a child.”

“I only exploited your weakness,” Yeonjun murmured through a cheeky grin. “How else could I get you over here?” 

It felt as if the whole world was watching them. Their eyes were burning holes in their backs. 

“Don’t you feel awkward?” Soobin mumbled, burying his face in Yeonjun’s neck. 

“Feeling awkward has only stopped me from living to the fullest,” Yeonjun said. His hands ran over Soobin’s back, massaging circles in it. “You can relax, Soobinnie, it’s alright. It’s not like we haven’t danced together before.”

Soobin didn’t look up, instead hiding further into Yeonjun and inhaling his scent, now salty from the sea. “But that was under the influence.”

“What? Of my charms?” Yeonjun let out a hearty laugh, knowing just how stupid it sounded. 

“Shut up.”

Yeonjun leaned back, his fingers under Soobin’s chin. He had him bewitched, caught under his spell. The soft three-fourth beat sped up, as did Soobin’s heart. He couldn’t look away, lips parted and eyes big, faces flushing. 

“You’re flustered,” Yeonjun noted, smirking. He traced Soobin’s jawline. “Is it because I’m correct?”

Soobin was speechless. His head was full, with all he wanted to say, but somehow it never got out. 

Yeonjun was the sun and if that was the case, then Soobin would be the planets, circling around him. The center of his universe. He had this look in his eyes, as if they were sharing this inside moment, a little secret between just the two of them. 

If this were the last thing he would see, then it would be enough for him. All that Yeonjun was, from his fiery temper to his free spirited soul, was all Soobin would ever need. He placed his hands on Yeonjun’s hips, letting the boy guide him along to the rhythm   

Much like the city’s temperament, Yeonjun was bursting with life and vivid colors. Soobin’s dull world got spun into a roulette wheel, where each outcome was unexpected. He’d never know what Yeonjun was up to – or what life had decided Yeonjun was up to – and it was always a surprise. 

Some days it would be crazy happenings that no one could’ve possibly thought of, but others it was calm, snuggled together in Soobin’s cramped apartment, on his painful pull-out bed, just enjoying each other’s presence for the time being. 

But in all of these scenarios Soobin’s hearing was invaded by the sound of his heart exploding, like fireworks bursting into a rain of colorful lights. He knew that nothing he would say would mean anything; Yeonjun had the ability to numb his brain to nothing. 

No thoughts, no worries, only him and Yeonjun and a beautiful moment in time. 

Somehow, they’d found their way back to Soobin’s apartment. Standing on the balcony, pressed closely together, the fairy lights sparkled like the stars in Yeonjun’s eyes. 

It was the final straw for Soobin. He spun Yeonjun around. 

Yeonjun’s sharp eyes, sharp and confident, were now widened in surprise. However, they were quick to find their lazy flirty nature. “Well, you remembered the dance moves, I see.”  

Soobin was imploding, his composure crumbling bit by bit. Yeonjun was inhabiting him. He was in his head, his heart, making his stomach jumble. He was the reason Soobin clumsily made a fool of himself. 

He knew it in that moment; he wasn’t going to let Yeonjun go. Yeonjun was the missing puzzle piece in his life, the completion to his picture. 

“Kiss me, please,” Soobin whispered. “Yeonjun, I’m asking of you. I dare you to.”

Yeonjun delicately brushed his thumb over Soobin’s bottom lip. “Are you sure?”

“More than anything,” Soobin confirmed, his voice husky. “Come on, Choi Yeonjun, I thought you were too prideful to turn down dares.”

“Just… Please don’t make this a onetime thing,” Yeonjun said. His gaze was cast away. “I want… I don’t think–“

“Why do you have to be so cute?” Soobin smiled. “You really thought I’d just go? Just like this? You opened my mind up again.”

“Maybe… I don’t know what happens in your mind,” Yeonjun mumbled. 

In his mind. It always happened inside his mind. As much as he wished, he knew that no one would be able to read him. They couldn’t play guessing games. Especially not Yeonjun, who was all about straightforward confrontation. Say as it is, no dancing around it. 

But Soobin wasn’t. He needed to decorate things, make them a little prettier. Because he believed that Yeonjun deserved a little taste of that as well; no words could ever match up to him, but Soobin could try. 

“You’re the sweetest thing I know,” Soobin said under his breath. “You caught me by surprise, but you took me around the city of my dreams. It’s safe to say that I want to make you my reality.” 

Yeonjun’s smile started tiny, growing along with each extra bit Soobin added. “Was that a confession, Choi Soobin? The redo?”

“Maybe,” Soobin teased. “Would you want to become part of my life?”

“Just ask me to be your boyfriend,” Yeonjun giggled. “Stop playing these word games.”

“I don’t want to leave what we have behind either,” Soobin said. “Not to pressure you and all that, but we’ve made so many memories and you’re incredible and—“

“You don’t have to leave this behind,” Yeonjun interrupted him.

“What?”

“You don’t have to leave this behind,” Yeonjun repeated. “I’m going back to Korea.”

“You— When? When did you decide that?” Soobin’s jaw fell to the ground. Yeonjun the carefree and unbound traveler returning home. It sounded like a fable. 

“Well, I’m running low on funds,” Yeonjun admitted sheepishly. “I only saved up for so much time.” 

“So it’s not because you feel like you should after I put all that pressure on you? Like, if you want to stay here then that’s totally cool and—“

Yeonjun raised his finger. “Soobin, shut up for a second.”

Soobin was trapped in his own rambling, seeing no end. “—because dating is like, commitment, we can like—“

A pair of soft lips broke him off. It was a gentle peck, just to get him to keep quiet. 

Yeonjun pressed their foreheads together. “It’s okay. I want to be with you, Soobin.”

Soobin’s heart was about to jump out of his chest. It was like the first time Yeonjun had taken him out, when the confetti had been shot, the upbeat music and the cheering of crowds, except this time it was all happening inside him. 

“Thank you. A million times, thank you.” Soobin placed his fingers underneath Yeonjun’s chin. “But, I think I’ll need a redo of that kiss. When I’m actually conscious that it’s happening.” 

Yeonjun made an attempt at looking annoyed, yet he too was burning up from inside out. 

Without warning he pulled Soobin down by the hem of his shirt, capturing his lips and earning a surprised yelp in the process. 

Yeonjun was rough, headstrong. Soobin could tell from the way he was biting down, nipping at his bottom lip. 

A moan slipped; it was nothing compared to drunken make outs. There was this sensation when he was sober, this full experience and not fogged out. More pressure, since there was no excuse of ‘being too drunk to remember’. 

“Not so bold now, hmm?” Yeonjun teased, breaking them apart. 

“Cocky,” Soobin fired back. He went in for another kiss, more gentle this time, in classic Soobin fashion.

Against Yeonjun’s lips he mumbled, “So, you really want to be with me?” 

“Soobin, you’re the one I want to find a home in,” Yeonjun announced. “Like, I’ve always kind of wandered off without anything to return to. Keep me anchored.”

+x+

“I’m home.” 

A light bedroom, linen curtains flowing in the wind. The door to the balcony was opened. 

Yeonjun stood in the doorway, knowing grin on his lips. Dropping his bag on the floor, he made his way forward. 

A white wall, but never bare. Along the way Yeonjun couldn’t help but stop to admire the photographs. Their smiles, forever captured in time. They were scattered right above their bed, the memories always floating in their dreams. 

They’d collected quite some over time, their collection expanding from Yeonjun’s first camera roll in Barcelona to many, many more. The locations varied widely, from Norway to Italy, Brazil to Japan, but what connected them all was the joy and delight that shone traveled along with them. 

His fingers traced them, the images matching together like a vision through a kaleidoscope or perhaps a mosaic. Little pictures painting the bigger one that was their happiness. 

But there was one missing. One picture he had selfishly kept to himself, hidden in his wallet and with him at all times. He remembered the day vividly, when they were nothing more than acquaintances. But when he wished they would become so much more. 

He’d known, from the moment he’d seen Soobin under the garlands, looking as if spring had come to shower him with its beauty. He’d known the moment Soobin’s cheeks had flushed a rosy hue after enjoying one sangria too many. 

He’d known when their limbs were entangled in the bed of Soobin’s temporary stay, when they’d danced on the streets like no one was watching and when they’d looked over the city from the balcony. 

The twinkles in Soobin’s eyes, the hand on Yeonjun’s waist, the kiss to his forehead.  And Soobin’s laughter, loud and unapologetic, engraved in Yeonjun’s heart till it stopped beating. 

Yeonjun pushed the curtain out of the way, already familiar with the image he’d meet. 

Soobin’s nose was buried in a novel, his reading glasses resting on his nose. He rarely wore them, but when he did, Yeonjun’s heart did a twirl. 

“Boo.”

“Ah!” Soobin playfully complied, though the sarcasm did not slip Yeonjun’s attention. He set his book aside, looking up at Yeonjun. “Hi, baby.” 

He scooted over, making room for Yeonjun on their little bench. It was metal and white, the edges being stricken by rust. Even though it was uncomfortable, Soobin had claimed the spot as his peace and serenity, often reading there or just sitting to think. 

Soobin patted the empty spot next to him. “Don’t let the poor bench become cold.” 

Yeonjun didn’t have to be told twice, grin already set on his lips. He hopped over, melting into Soobin’s side as soon as he was sat down. He nuzzled his nose into Soobin’s neck. He smelled faintly of stuffy library, but it was okay. 

Soobin’s shoulders shook along with his laughter. “You’re awfully clingy today, Jun.”

Yeonjun pouted. “I missed you.”

His fingers went to play with the bracelet on Soobin’s wrist, looking shabby and worn with time, yet Soobin refused to ever take it off. Not to bed, not when he took a shower; it was part of his body now. 

“Me too,” Soobin whispered, pressing a fluttery kiss to Yeonjun’s forehead. 

Yeonjun’s eyes fluttered shut, treasuring the moment. Soobin’s presence, Soobin’s warmth, all engulfing him in an inviting embrace. 

“Why were you outside?” Yeonjun asked. “You’re usually out here when there’s something on your mind.” 

“Nothing much,” Soobin mused. “Just running through some memories.”

“Spill.” 

“Wanna go back?” Soobin blurted out. “To the place we met?” 

Yeonjun snuggled closer with a fuzzy, close-lipped smile. “You already got the tickets, didn’t you?”

“Bags are packed as well,” Soobin confirmed his assumption. “I can’t be the only one with the bracelet. I need to give you a matching one as well.” 

Yeonjun continued listening to Soobin’s steady heartbeat. He’d follow Soobin to the end of the world, into his dreams. He was bound to Soobin like a flower to bees; the other half of his soul. 

Soobin’s light was shining down upon him, inviting him into his world of mystery. No matter what road he took, it would always lead back to Soobin. The anchor of his ship.   

“God,” Yeonjun murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. A phrase reserved for Soobin, “I love you.”