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Wai didn’t really understand how it happened. One moment he was sitting with Korn, watching the newest episode of the series they were starting to get really invested in, and the next thing he knew, they were making out, shirts unbuttoned, and breaths shortened, Korn’s hand sliding across Wai’s chest until it reached an old scar right under his collarbone, and he suddenly pulled away, eyebrows furrowed, to ask about it, like he had never noticed it before.
And so they were, Korn’s eyes and hands grazing across Wai’s skin, delicately, as if afraid to hurt him, and Wai telling him the stories behind the countless marks left on him. He had a surprising lot of scars, coming from mostly his clumsiness and the fights he kept on getting in back in university, that Korn never asked about before, maybe not having thought about it much, despite his fingertips sliding across them millions of times.
“Where is this one from?” Korn pointed to Wai’s shoulder, his fingers landing on a thin scar, one of the more noticeable kind.
“Remember our bus stop fight?” Wai asked, needlessly, because Korn obviously remembered. “You pushed me into a sign, and I cut myself on the edge of it. I have another one from it too, actually–” He paused to grab Korn’s hand and direct it to the back of his neck, right under his hairline. “Here, can you feel it?” A smile, trying to light up Korn’s face that was now oddly melancholic, as if he was stricken with a flash of guilt. “Don’t you look at me like that,” he sighed, letting go of Korn’s hand to instead stroke his cheek, slowly and gently. “Not your fault that we were idiots…”
Korn shook his head, not harsh enough to make Wai’s palm fall from it. “It’s just–” A sigh. “I never realised I was actually hurting you, if you get me… I mean, sure, we punched each other quite a few times, but it never registered that I hurt you.”
“I get you,” Wai muttered, then leaned in to leave a quick peck on Korn’s chapped lips. “But to be fair, I hurt you too.” He snorted, somehow, even if the words falling from his throat could have sounded morbid outside of context.
Korn nodded, sliding his fingers down Wai’s neck, then across his shoulder, and his arm, until he stopped right above his wrist. “I always wanted to know where you got this one from, but I thought it would be too weird to ask,” he sighed, as his fingertips traced the jagged edges of a circular scar.
“You should have just asked, idiot.” Wai shook his head, and covered Korn’s palm with his own. “I burned myself when I was a kid. I was trying to boil water, but the pot was too heavy, and I dropped it. The rest of the burns healed pretty easily, this one must have been the worst.”
A sigh, as he looked up to stare Wai in the eyes, before speaking again. “I actually did something similar too.” He smiled stupidly, as if amused by the memory. “Except I was in middle school already, I was trying to make some noodles for me and my mom, she was so tired after work that I wanted to help her somehow. And I dropped the pot with boiling water on the floor.” He paused to let out a scoff. “Instead of helping, I ended up making her even more exhausted. She drove me to the hospital, but it wasn’t too serious. I have a bit of a scar somewhere on my foot from it, but it’s barely even visible when you’re not looking for it.”
Wai shook his head again, almost in disbelief, intertwining his and Korn’s fingers tightly. His hands were starting to get cold, having been sitting without his shirt for so long, but Korn’s were still warm, and he took it with delight. “Any more questions?” he muttered, his eyes wandering between Korn’s face and exposed chest thoughtlessly.
“Do you have any more that I left?” he voiced the question, looking away, and Wai wasn’t sure if it was because of embarrassment, guilt, or something completely else.
Wai pretended to think for a moment. “There’s one more,” he sighed, as he guided Korn’s finger with his free hand. “Here.” They stopped right above his hips, and only then did Wai let go of Korn, just to pull the top of his pants down a little, showing a short, white scar, that Korn had obviously seen before, but never stopped to think what was its cause. “Our first fight. You pushed me into a wall, there was a bit of rebar sticking out…”
Korn let his fingers linger on it for a moment longer than necessary. “I’m sorry,” he finally said, his voice breaking in the middle of the sentence.
“Hey…” Wai furrowed his eyebrows, looking at Korn, head tilted. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I bet I left you some scars too,” he ended with a smile, but it faltered as Korn shook his head.
“Only bruises, really. Maybe a few cuts, but never enough to leave a scar.”
Wai shrugged, trying to keep the atmosphere light, but Korn’s unwavering concerned stare didn’t help. “I guess I’m just less lucky than you,” he sighed exaggeratedly, as if only then realising that he was way clumsier than Korn, even though he was finding random bruises and cuts on his body on the daily, while he hasn’t seen Korn so much as cut his finger cooking in the past few months. “Anything more you want to ask about?” he then changed the topic quickly.
“Anything more you want to tell me about?” Korn asked in return. He pulled their joint hands to his lips, and left a barely traceable kiss on each of Wai’s knuckles, before putting his other palm on top of them and placing them in his lap.
Wai needed a moment to think. “Here.” He pointed to an almost unnoticeable dent on his temple. “I stumbled into a table corner when I was learning how to walk.” A pause. “And somewhere here.” This time, his fingers landed on his knee, hidden by the material of his pants. “When I was fighting Pat once, he pushed me to the ground so hard that it actually left a couple scars.” He smiled at the memory, a little nostalgic for the past that now seemed so far away.
Korn let his lips form a cocky grin, and, eyebrows raised, leaned a bit towards Wai. “Want me to beat him up for you?”
“I think he’s already beaten up enough about his boyfriend leaving for Singapore again tomorrow,” Wai said, a stupid grin fighting its way onto his face. They had been dating for over three years already, but Korn was still able to make Wai’s heart beat faster with the dumbest things. Sometimes Wai couldn’t even believe that he got to experience love like that, love that didn’t get old, love that only grew with each passing day.
Taken by the sudden wave of feelings, Wai scooted closer to Korn, the carpet under them briefly burning the skin on his legs at the contact, and pulled Korn into a kiss, slow and deep, by the back of his neck. Their interlocked hands finally let go of each other, instead finding their way onto their bodies, Korn’s across Wai’s waist, bringing him even closer until he was all but in his lap, and Wai’s tangling into Korn’s hair. And with Korn’s lips on his own, and his breath leaving irregular traces on his cheeks, all Wai could think was–
“I love you,” he muttered as soon as he pulled away, barely centimetres away from Korn’s lips still. “I love you so damn much, you can’t even imagine–”
Korn caught Wai’s lips again, as though saying that he could, in fact, imagine, kissing him fervently. “What came over you?” he asked, as they broke apart again.
“Nothing.” Wai rolled his eyes, feigning annoyance, but his hands didn’t leave the sides of Korn’s neck. “Can’t I just want to tell my boyfriend that I love him?” he questioned back, admiring the way Korn’s eyes twinkled at being called Wai’s boyfriend, as they always did, even after so many years. He slowly climbed off of Korn’s lap, back into his previous spot on their living room floor.
Korn’s stare didn’t leave Wai as he stayed silent for a while, blinking slowly, a smile forming on his lips. “I love you too,” he replied finally. A shallow sigh, and another moment of quiet, during which he let his hand circle back to Wai’s chest and the scar below his collarbone that started it all. “I’d say something cool and heroic, like, I won’t let you get hurt again, but, honestly, you’re probably going to accidentally cut yourself while making breakfast tomorrow.”
Wai pushed Korn’s hand away, eyes rolling, but a smile fighting to light up his face. “I won’t!”
(Wai, in fact, didn’t cut himself while making breakfast the next day. He instead burned himself while cooking dinner, and Korn, sighing heavily, swore he would never let Wai into their kitchen again.)