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It was the same almost every night. The unfurling of gold-tipped wings behind his eyelids. It was always so vivid; the press of cool fingers against his skin, the peach-pink spreading across the other’s cheeks.
The dreams hadn’t always been there though, and Heeseung, for the life of him, could not understand why they had suddenly begun. They had started suddenly, a warm evening approaching his summer break. He had spent the day as per usual: he had cycled to school, made spitballs and shot them at his friends during class, gone to his dance class, and cycled home in the dusty haze of sunset. Completely, regular, nothing out of blue. Yet, as he allowed sleep to overcome him that night, he had found himself… well… in his garden. It hadn’t been anything special, it wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it before. The grass grew unruly and untamed around him, and he had frowned down at it, wiggling his socked toes against the overgrown blades. Right, his father had asked him to mow that. Oh well.
The sound of soft shuffling had him glancing up, and his breath caught in his throat. A boy stood in the middle of the garden, plucking gently at the grass at his feet. Heeseung hadn’t sucked in a breath because of the boy — he wasn’t even facing him after all — but because of what protruded from his back. Wings. Beautiful, shimmering wings. Translucent and ivory as they erupted from his shoulder blades, lined with gold that shone with warmth under the cold moonlight. Though his inhale had been quiet, it was blaringly loud in the stillness of the night. Startled, the unfamiliar boy had looked up, and at the sight of him, vanished into thin air. “Wait!” Heeseung had said, too late, his hand held out to stop someone who had already gone. He had felt the dew seeping into his socks then, far too tangible to be a dream, yet it was. That had been the first time he dreamt of that boy, but not the last.
It took a few weeks for the boy to wander into his dreams again. The second time, said boy was seated on the ground, pulling out blades of grass and weaving them together, only to let them go and watch them fall apart. The wings were nowhere to be seen. Heeseung observed the boy from a distance, taking note of his rosy cheeks and dark, shining eyes, stark against his pale skin. His chestnut hair fell softly around his face, framing his face in shining sheets of silk. He looked as though he were sculpted from marble, breathed life and softness into him by the gods. Heeseung fumblingly rocked in his place, not moving out of fear that he would scare the boy away again.
“Are you going to keep standing and staring at me?” Heeseung started at the sudden ringing of the other’s voice through the silence. Upon closer inspection, the other looked a little younger than him, if only by a year or two. The younger stood up, “You surprised me last time, what are you doing here?”
“It’s my dream,” Heeseung replied incredulously, “What are you doing here?”
The dark-haired boy blinked before letting out a bright laugh, sounding not unlike the pleasant tinkling of bells. Heeseung couldn’t help but notice that even his eyelashes seemed to sparkle. “Well, you’re correct, I suppose.”
He skipped forward and took Heeseung’s hand in his own, startling him with the sudden sensation of cool fingers against his own warm ones. He was guided into sitting on the grass, the boy sitting down opposite him. “I’m Sunoo!” he piped up, without any prompting, “It’s nice to meet you, I’ve been wanting to for so long, Heeseung!”
That was weird. Heeseung had almost asked then, what the hell are you on about? Why are you in my garden? Yet, he forced himself to remember. This was a dream, he was dreaming. Dreams were weird. In fact, after that dream about giant lamps dishing out vegetable soup, he supposed this one was rather sane. So instead he nodded sagely, before glancing around them awkwardly. They were seated cross-legged, and Sunoo was close enough for their knees to brush, sending goosebumps skittering up his legs.
He realized belatedly that they were surrounded by dandelions, vibrant yellow against the darkness. Had they been there before?
“Damn weeds,” he muttered, reaching to yank one out of the soil. Sunoo let out a giggle and pulled it out of his hand, twirling it between his delicate fingers,
“More will sprout in its place if you do that.” Sure enough, when Heeseung looked back, ten more had appeared where there had only been the one before. “Never mind that. Here.”
Heeseung felt his hands press into his mop of bed hair, the gentle weight of a lanky flower crown on his scalp. It was rather limp, and one of the dandelions came loose and slipped down over his eye, dangling precariously by the stem. Sunoo snickered, and Heeseung felt his heart thump heavily at the elegant sound, made worse when the boy reached forward to lift it away from his face, letting his touch linger against Heeseung’s skin. “You should go back in before you catch a cold.” Though his words were kind, Heeseung had opened his mouth to object. It was his dream, shouldn’t he be allowed a say in it? Yet, before he could respond, he felt the odd sensation of his stomach dropping, down, down, down. Then he was falling through darkness, sinking into nothing. No, he was waking up. He was awake.
“Oh come on!” He chucked his pillow at the wall, knocking down his Ninja Turtle figurines where they stood on his dresser. Damn it.
The third time came a lot quicker, barely four days later. “You’re back!” Sunoo beamed, and though the moon shone in the murky depths of the sky, Heeseung could have sworn he was looking at the embodiment of the sun. He didn’t exactly want to admit that he hadn’t exactly returned by choice (though he wasn’t going to complain), so he only smiled fondly at the younger, letting Sunoo lead him underneath a tree and conjure another flower crown from god knows where. This one wasn’t made out of dandelions. Their height difference was large enough that Sunoo had to stand on the tips of his toes to place the crown on Heeseung’s head. He made no move to make any distance between them, and Heeseung was too aware of the space between their faces, or lack thereof. Sunoo’s eyes bore into his own, sparkling with the mirth of someone who knew something greatly amusing that the other didn’t. “They’re lilacs.” Cool.
After that, there was a fourth time, a fifth, a sixth. Until it was every night. Until Heeseung stopped worrying that he wasn’t going to meet Sunoo again. Even the thought of the boy had begun to turn his insides into… well… mush. He wasn’t the best at subtlety, and even he couldn’t hide the way his entire face burned red every time he saw Sunoo smile. He pretended to ignore the flower of warmth that blossomed in his chest every time Sunoo would run a hand through his hair and call him cute. He didn’t want to ponder the implications of his reactions, though it was impossible for even him to avoid it. Regardless, he fell asleep every night with a smile on his face, anticipating the dazzling smile that awaited him in his dreams.
The last day of school approached slowly, and summer greeted him like an old friend, beckoning him closer with promises of warm evenings and gentle reprieve. Heeseung sat on the cool stone steps of his patio, listening to the dwindling noises of his parents inside as they prepared for bed. The last rays of sunlight vanished as the sun dipped behind the horizon, and Heeseung raised his face to the gust of chilled night air that hit his heated cheeks. There wasn’t much to see in his garden, other than overgrown grass and dandelions, now turning white. No lilacs. A dragonfly zipped between the blades of grass, glassy wings glinting in the moonlight.
He found himself thinking about his dream boy, about Sunoo’s soft complexion, the feeling of his soothing hands as they guided him to sit by his side. Hearing his colourful voice as he’d whisper something and laugh his musical laugh. Heeseung thought of the iridescent wings he had seen sprouting from Sunoo’s back, only once. He could feel the longing itching under his skin; to see Sunoo, to touch him. When had he become so reliant on a figment of his imagination?
Leaning forward, he pulled a dandelion out from the dirt, rolling the stem in his fingers. He knew that it was pointless, but he still brought the dandelion up to his lips and blew, spluttering away the fluff that stuck to his lips. The rest detached and drifted away aimlessly, and his eyes followed them tiredly. His day had been particularly exhausting, after hours spent with his friends and then the dance studio. He gave one last longing look at the garden, before stretching his legs out and standing up with a groan, ready to go back inside and settle into his cosy bed. Just as he took a step forward, there was a loud buzzing near his ear, taking him by surprise. Wretched bugs. When he waved his arm to swat it away, the back of his hand connected with something warm and… soft . He let out a high pitched shriek and snatched his hand back, wildly spinning on his heels. Catching sight of a pair of shimmering wings, he groaned. It was the stupid dragonfly. Why was it so warm ?
Maybe because it wasn’t a dragonfly.
He squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his palms against his eyelids, hard enough for him to see spots in his vision. Yet when he opened them again, he could still see it. He could still see that the fluttering wings extended from a very… human body. He still couldn’t truly believe it, but the apple-red cheeks and smiling fox eyes were unmistakable; even if they were very sized down.
He held his hand out, and Sunoo came to rest on his palm, dainty feet pressing as lightly as butterfly steps. “Sorry about smacking you… I thought you were an insect. I hope I didn’t give you a concussion?” Heeseung patted his head apologetically with a finger, and he heard the faint tinkling of bells as Sunoo, presumably, laughed. His gauzy wings fluttered as he took off purposefully, leaving a dusting of gold on Heeseung’s palm. Impatiently, Sunoo gave Heeseung’s thumb a gentle tug and began floating away, his wings beating rapidly, shimmering like fragmented crystals. Follow me . The elder scrambled to his feet, hurriedly trailing him. He was forced to skid to a halt as he rounded the large tree in his pursuit, nearly bumping into a now human-sized Sunoo. Golden dust shimmered around the latter, hanging like dewdrops in the air, the only remnants of his sudden transformation. Heeseung blinked with disorientation, gazing at his full-sized wings. However, they faded as Heeseung watched in enthrallment, eventually vanishing completely.
“Surprise,” Sunoo said shyly, looking up at Heeseung through those shimmering eyelashes. Heeseung was finding it difficult to grasp the reality of the situation. Reaching forward, he cupped Sunoo’s face, feeling the cool skin under his fingers.
“You’re real,” Heeseung breathed, unable to believe it still. “You’re not… and you’re… real.”
Sunoo leaned his cheek into his palm and smiled his devastatingly beautiful smile. “Although I love being the only one you dream of,” his smile grew cheeky as he gestured to the golden dust that lingered in the air around them, “I felt that maybe it was time for us to meet in person, so I took a few liberties with my magic.”
Heeseung stepped closer, awe settling deep and warm. Awe that the beautiful boy that he had found himself dreaming of, thinking of, was truly in front of him. Tangible, to touch. He honestly felt like he was hallucinating. “Why did you wait this long?”
Sunoo reached up to tuck a strand of Heeseung’s hair behind his ear, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, “Nothing’s truly enjoyable without a challenge, is it?” Heeseung laughed in surprise, laughing even harder when Sunoo produced another flower crown from seemingly nowhere.
“Then why are you using your magic to make flower crowns, instead of making them yourself?”
“I can’t believe you are questioning my efforts!” Sunoo huffed as he reached up to place it on Heeseung’s head, his face close enough for Heeseung to see the flush in his cheeks and feel his breath brush over his skin. He dropped his arms, but didn’t move back, “I picked each flower personally and wove them by hand for you.”
Sunoo was close enough that he had to tilt his head back to look at Heeseung, and he glared up playfully at him. Heeseung felt his insides twist with adoration, the pale lilac of his flower crown reflecting in Sunoo’s dark eyes, his pale skin glowing in contrast. “Lilacs, again? Are they your favourite flower?”
Sunoo looked into his eyes searchingly, the corners of his lips pulling up in a smile when Heeseung continued to stare at him unblinkingly. “I think they might be from now on. They mean first love.”
Heeseung’s mouth opened, and he felt warmth blossom in his chest, a splattering of warm honey coating and soothing his insides, sweet and gentle. “Thank you,” he gulped, not taking his eyes off the fairy. First love . A strange feeling roiled in his stomach, a feeling that had been gradually rising since Heeseung had first set eyes on Sunoo. He had tried to avoid it, but maybe he didn’t need to. Maybe this was what falling in love felt like; like inhaling the fresh smell of flowers in the air, like the vivid colours of summer under the sun, like Sunoo . Maybe he had it all wrong. Yet, as the summer air buzzed around them, saturated with the honeyed scent of flowers, and the golden fairy dust around them framed Sunoo like a halo, Heeseung realized he didn’t mind wandering in the unknown. It was what had brought him here.
Sunoo was waiting for something, and though he stood still, his eyes glimmered brightly, giving away his veiled impatience. Heeseung knew very well what he was waiting for. He could have made him wait, but god knew he had no self-control, especially when it came to the boy he had grown so infatuated with. He locked eyes with the fairy, who gave him a minuscule nod.
Then he closed the distance between them, and pressed his lips to Sunoo’s.
It was gentle and tender, like the brush of a plush feather against his lips. Heeseing’s stomach fluttered with elation at the feeling of Sunoo’s heart-shaped lips against his, the sweetness that tasted of nectar. His head spun, thoughts swimming in circles as Sunoo pulled back and slipped his arms around Heeseung’s waist. He rested his head against Heeseung’s chest, and Heeseung was sure he could hear his racing heartbeat, beating almost as fast as Sunoo’s wings had been. He willed himself to calm down, to melt into the embrace. and pressed another kiss to the top of Sunoo’s head, smiling against his silky hair.
“This feels like a dream.” Heeseung pressed another kiss to the top of Sunoo’s head, smiling against his silky hair.
“This is a lot better than a dream,” Sunoo mumbled against his shirt.
Heeseung couldn’t disagree, a dream could never live up to this. He, for one, knew that better than anyone.