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FOR AS LONG AS HYUNJAE can remember, he has loved Younghoon.
And he still does.
Hyunjae isn’t even exaggerating.
In cliche young adult novels, sometimes the main character's feelings are uncertain about a certain someone, or they are stubborn to admit how they feel. It’s confusing, exciting, thrilling, and maybe weird to realize how this emotion called love is like magic, fairy dust, and golden stars dancing in the night sky. At that moment, then, the main character realizes that they are in fact, a celestial body burning with just as much radiance.
And in the other’s eyes, they are their world.
A power that heals, a power that defeats the darkness, a power that protects as Dumbeldore said under his breath, “love as powerful as your mother’s for you, leaves its mark,” hitting Harry’s heart filled with the ocean of grief; the battle scars glittering like stars in his ink-stained glassy eyes.
And Hyunjae knows this: pain and heartbreak, just as much as his friend, the energetic sophomore-year, majoring in applied exercise science.
“Guess we’re losers in love,” the brunette chuckles, clad in a red shirt with a bright and fiery capitalized C marking the athletic clothing brand.
“No―you can’t just admit you’re a loser in love. Where did your courage and determination disappear? You weren’t wrong and you did nothing wrong, and neither did he. Go to him. Find him. Make it right,” Hyunjae tells him, voice soft. “It wasn’t a break-up. It was a tragedy and you, right here sitting in Chemistry, breathing means, there’s still hope. The story of you and him isn’t over.”
Silence.
There’s a brief pause between them. Hyunjae’s honey-brown eyes hold Youngjae’s cinnamon eyes glinting in awe.
“I’m still amazed that you like to take things easy and have fun. But you’re also serious at the right time. I mean, I always thought you had the energy of a ball of sunshine, but you’re more than that,” Youngjae laughs, a grin widening his face.
“The only ball of sunshine I know is you and that’s facts,” a cheerful voice says, meeting eyes with the boys.
“Kevin, you know that’s just my personality―”
“Eric, you idiot, embrace it; your smile, your laugh, your eyes, your touch, you because you are so lucky and could cure cancer if you were to become a doctor. Eric, you're special, yeah? Changmin would say the same. He loves you. Hyunjae is telling the truth.”
Hyunjae realizes he’s also lucky and special to know Younghoon from the moment he met him at the playground playing tag in Kindergarten. Hyunjae and Younghoon have been deskmates since then.
Now it feels like the buildings of the campus, different schedules, new friends, and the entrance to adulthood distance them from each other.
Younghoon is so far away and yet so close and Hyunjae wishes he could reach him, see him, and tell him that he misses him. Despite all of this, he has his contact, but it isn’t the same as being with each other.
Younghoon isn’t his.
Hyunjae isn’t his.
Not like belonging to one another but more like someone to go home to and know, they will come home.
Hyunjae can only catch a glimpse of him through his window, watching him hanging his clothes on the rope, turning back to enter the apartment through the balcony’s door, shutting behind him. Before Hyunjae knows it, the lights in Younghoon's apartment go out, and there’s an aching crestfallen thump of his heartbeat.
And then Younghoon is gone.
“Kevin, when was the last time you saw Younghoon?” Hyunjae asks, snapping his head up to meet eyes with Kevin, who blinks, and then a smile carves his delicate lips in joy.
“I’m glad you asked. He’s been at the theater practicing his part for the play that will occur three weeks from now.” As soon as Kevin finishes answering him, Hyunjae grabs his backpack and slings it over his shoulder. He walks downstairs fast while their professor dismisses the class, answering questions left. Hyunjae’s aware of how sudden he moved, possibly confusing his friends, but he doesn’t care at the moment.
He has one thing in mind.
A person.
A person he knows.
A person he does not know.
A person he wants to know better aside from what he does know about him.
Kim Younghoon.
Younghoon, am I invisible in your eyes, or am I the one who’s blind?
Because Hyunjae’s rushing down the halls occupied with the student body swimming past one another, engrossed in heated-up, old, true, tired, conversations. He stops, fixating his gaze on the boy with obsidian-black hair swept across his forehead, lips curving a pretty smile, and midnight eyes glowing, listening to the shorter boy graced with fair golden skin and part of the MSU soccer team.
It feels like he doesn’t know him anymore, feet planted on the tiled floor, hoping he would look at him, see him, and smile.
But he doesn’t.
Hyunjae, though, begins moving again, legs taking him to Younghoon.
Hyunjae reaches his hand out to grasp him by his arm, stepping back when Younghoon turns around. He swallows the lump resting in his throat as they lock gazes, flashbacks from the past flashing in his eyes, and he has so many questions, so many stories to tell him.
Hyunaje’s heart is racing, thumping against his ribcage like the drumline. He thinks his heart might combust, finding himself lost in the endless galaxy behind Younghoon’s eyes.
For a second, there’s this thought revolving in Hyunjae’s mind: the younger boy not realizing who he is―as if he forgot him.
The boy with a sun-kissed face stares at the childhood best friends, trailing his gaze from the golden-haired boy to his friend. Younghoon is looking at Hyunjae almost questioningly, shock evident on his face, mouth agape.
“Hyunjae?” Younghoon says softly, voice barely above a whisper.
It’s not a secret. Knowing each other.
Why then, does it seem like they are a secret despite not saying what’s in the heart.
I missed you.
“How have you been? Are you okay?”
I’m okay. My heart isn’t okay.
If you look at me like that, how am I supposed to be okay?
“I’ve been good. What about you?”
Younghoon smiles, a delicate lavender smile, and heat spread up into Hyunjae’s cheeks.
“I’m better. Much better now that I got to see you,” Younghoon pauses, tearing his gaze away to look at Sunwoo, puzzled. “I got class but I’ll see you?”
“When is that?” Hyunjae says, eyes holding Younghoon’s sparkling ones.
“Soon,” Youngoon says, tone tentative, walking towards the stairs. He lets his younger friend know to not wait for him, and go to class before he’s late. Sunwoo looks at Younghoon briefly before looking at Hyunjae, but he tugs the raven’s arm, lowering him just so he’s able to whisper to him.
Sunwoo nods and rushes upstairs to the laboratory for his next class.
Just as Younghoon turns on his heels, he feels Hyunjae’s hand embrace his.
“Wait,” Hyunjae breathes and he can’t help but resist the small smile blooming on his lips.
Now he understands why Juyeon’s love language is comparing hand sizes, but that’s not the significance. Instead, it’s the fluttering feeling in his chest, holding the younger’s hand, and him not letting go.
“Will you be at the next basketball match?”
“I can’t say yes. . . but if you see me there, then you have your answer.”
Younghoon leaves again.
Hyunjae’s heartbeat this time dances like butterfly wings, and he’s so, so in love.
Youngjae must have felt the same for Changmin.
It must hurt more than ever.
The dancer left without an explanation. An accident collided, causing bruises, and scars on the energetic co-captain of the soccer team. And yet, Youngjae isn’t giving up on Changmin because he knows there are words left unsaid that their story isn’t over.
Hyunjae and Younghoon’s story has begun with the opening ceremony for first-years entering high school. The story began like this in which Hyunjae arrived at the theater, pushing the large doors open. His uniform was drenched, dark khaki pants sticking to his legs, umbrella grasped in his hand. His touseled golden hair swept across his forehead, cheeks reddening in shame while walking down the aisle, nodding. He whispered apologies about interrupting the opening ceremony’s speech with his hands clasped, honey-brown eyes bouncing across the room.
When his eyes landed on Juyeon, he rushed over to him and took a seat next to Jacob, who sat beside Sangyeon. Finally, he made it to the opening ceremony and found his friends. The cool linen white uniform sticking to his athletic figure did not help, at least the maroon jacket hugged him, covering his body. Forget it. Shifting his attention to the boy standing on stage, he sat up and looked closely at him.
Realizing he’s the same boy he’d talk to during class time in junior high school, he couldn’t help the endearing smile carving on his mouth like an artist sketching on a canvas.
Memories of summertime, butterflies, twilight skies, and food trucks flash in his mind, but the boy born a month before him found reading and drawing more interesting than him. Younghoon made friends with Kevin. Their friendship clicked as if they were each other’s soulmates.
Younghoon met Chanhee in seventh grade.
And Hyunjae’s world collided.
Hyunjae presses the brake pedal quick as lightning, throwing him back against the driver’s seat, and his pulse quickens, heartbeat rapid. His hands firmly grip the steering wheel that the bones aligned in his hands start to shake, and the blood racing through his veins reaches his face, honey-brown eyes wide, glittering in shock.
What the hell are you thinking? Focus on the road!
Hyunjae breathes.
Red-light means stop, so why were you speeding?
Hyunjae needs to take it steady and slow no matter how head-over-heels he is for him.
But Hyunjae’s tired of riding the horse in the carousel going round and round with Younghoon not beside him, leaning over to hug him, and maybe plant a gentle kiss on the corner of his mouth, and move back, running a hand throw his hair to pretend everything’s cool.
Truth is, he’s shy.
Hyunjae feels his ears redden thinking about this, about them, and meeting each other closer than the middle like always. Because there’s always been something keeping them apart from one another, from Hyunjae to reach Younghoon.
Hyunjae breathes again, chest rising and falling, fixating his gaze on the road.
The city is busy and downcast as it prepares for nightfall. The sky cracks open and clouds pour cold rain, showering the street of Detroit. Honks from cars, trucks, and vans bounce off the intersection of the road, traffic lights flickering.
Hyunjae glances at the fog covering and the rain droplets sliding on his car’s window, thoughts revolving around a boy with obsidian hair and a warm smile widening his face in the cutest way possible.
Pressing the gas pedal upon the green light beam, and focusing his attention on the road, he shakes his head. Hyunjae decides to stop thinking about Younghoon for now and to study for the Chemistry exam on Friday.
Sunlight streams through thin white curtains hanging from the pole above, spilling across the wooden mahogany floor, kissing Hyunjae’s face. Hyunjae tosses over, wrapped in warm winter, and hues of brown painting his blanket and dream of confessing his love, only to jolt awake at the sound of his alarm blaring like in the military.
Hyunjae blinks not once but twice and looks to the window, watching the birds of a flock fly together as the sunray’s radiance guides them. And he thinks about how light and aspirations mean so much for a human being because without it the significance of hope cracks, sprinkling fairy dust into nothingness.
It’s the same old tale in Peter Pan.
God, he’s been into Disney too much.
If it wasn’t for Sangyeon, he’d be comparing his thoughts with Marvel references.
No doubt, Hyunjae admires Iron Man.
And Sangyeon admires Jacob—no, Sangyeon’s in love with Jacob.
But the eight letters are left in a locked treasure inside his heart as his.
I love you, Kim Younghoon.
He can’t physically say those magic words, heartbeat quickening, frozen in place.
He can’t mentally prepare himself for the heartbreak that may come after the first step of becoming more than friends. He can’t emotionally control himself for how long it’s been since they’ve talked, since he’s seen him smile like a child born as a star, how effortlessly he walks like a fashion model, but he’s never overconfident, just modest, yet elegant.
Younghoon’s born a star.
Hyunjae’s born a planet made out of gas.
Which isn’t entirely true.
Hyunjae’s a planet made out of many moons, and one of them is for Younghoon.
But he’s all for him.
Sliding out of bed, he strolls to the window, pushes the curtains to the side, and opens the window, breathing in the morning scent, eyes fluttering closed.
His eyes snap open at the scent of honey-cinnamon and fresh-baked bread trailing towards him and moving his gaze towards the delight at the beginning of the day, his gaze locks with Younghoon.
Hyunjae stills as stone, the pulse under his jaw reverberates, pounding uncontrollably from the fondness he feels. He tells himself he’s imagining things, but when Younghoon waves and smiles, everything is honey and cinnamon french toast.
The tiny moons glittering in his eyes and the sunlight cascading down his face make him look like an ethereal prince from a fairytale, but the moment breaks at Youngjae shouting his name.
Hyunjae’s ghost of a smile falls flat, dreamy eyes now irritated, and arms folded across his chest.
He looks below him and a dry chuckle escapes his mouth.
Before Younghoon leaves the balcony, Hyunjae calls him, voice loud and bright as sunshine, holding his gaze. “You wouldn’t have any cinnamon-french toast left over, would you?”
Hyunjae loves the idea of trying the breakfast Younghoon made, but he loves seeing Younghoon more.
“Yeah, I have some of your favorites left over and mangoes!” Younghoon cheers full of radiance, laughing, cheeks widening, and goddamnit, Hyunjae’s falling in love, over, and over again. “Could you give the mangoes to Sangyeon for me? I’ve been busy with practicing lines for a play that’s next week, and he’s in a different department from me, so we don’t get to see each other like we used to.”
And the sunshine glory bathing Hyunjae feels like hail raining on him, hearing Younghoon mention another guy.
“Of course, Sangyeon loves mangoes!”
Turning around, Hyunjae's shadow disappears behind him, and he shuts the balcony door while staring at Younghoon in adoration, but vexation burns in his chest.
Hyunjae comes rushing out of the apartment complex, backpack strapped over his shoulder, car keys dangling in his hands, and stops in his tracks, taking in the sight of the performance arts major.
Younghoon’s black hair is a mess, but he still looks handsome with a pretty smile dancing across his mouth, catching his breath.
“You don’t need that. Put your car keys away.”
In a spirit of curiosity and hope, Hyunjae slides his car keys in his jeans pocket, waiting for Younghoon to explain himself. “What do you mean? How am I going to get to class? I have an exam for Chemistry at ten-ten,” his eyebrows furrow, apprehension weighing more than a ton on his shoulders, wondering what he’s implying.
“Let’s take the bus and take our time. Our exam doesn’t start until ten-ten as you said. And oh, here, for you,” Younghoon hands Hyunjae a plastic bag and grins.
“What is it?”
“Find out yourself,” Younghoon chuckles, slowly shifting his gaze away, and then he does something Hyunjae wasn’t expecting, pulling him out of his daze.
Younghoon’s slender hand embraces Hyunjae’s hand. Younghoon’s touch is soft, tightening his grasp, and there’s affection in how the pad of his thumb lightly brushes the veins Hyunjae’s hand to relax. There’s no way this is happening because hell it’s been a while since they’ve caught up with each other, yet they’re together, holding hands.
Hyunjae’s heart stutters, glancing down at their interlocked hands, gaze moving back up to meet Younghoon’s midnight eyes. Hyunjae could say it here right now but the risk is worth considering.
He can’t be too positive about what this means—what it means to hold hands, meet each other again after a long time, and still know each other’s darkest secrets to each other’s epitome of joy.
He can’t be certain this love is true and real.
Younghoon begins walking, hand wrapped around Hyunjae’s hand, and makes a run towards the sound of the bus approaching.
And Hyunjae feels his heart move with him. Everywhere Younghoon goes, Hyunjae’s heart follows.
I love you, did I ever tell you that?
I don’t know if this will sound stupid, but I think I fell for you at first sight when you gave the opening ceremony speech for high school first-year students.
I love you. I said that before but for you, I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of saying this.
Changmin’s told me his love has been a lie until he found the truth in Eric.
However, he said it was a lie, falling for him.
The truth is, he’s scared of how he feels safe when he’s in his arms, how he can’t get enough of his kisses, knows how to make him smile, and eats his dishes despite being an okay cook.
The truth is, I’ve been a jerk. If I told you, I messed around and had a “world record” on shattering another’s heart, would you hate me?
I don’t want to think of what would happen then.
I’ve changed and want to stop fooling around.
Do you think about me?
About us?
An hour and thirty-five minutes after taking the Chemistry exam, Hyunjae walks down from his seat, exam booklet grasped in his hands. Placing the exam booklet on his professor’s desk, he gives him a courteous smile, walking back to the whiteboard to pick up his backpack.
Fast forward to the gymnasium, shouts, and cheers from the audience seated on the benches bounce across the room, reaching the golden boy's eardrums. The timer is set for two-minutes left, and so far, the Cougars are winning. Hyunjae’s school basketball team is winning against another school’s team. By one point precisely.
Not too much pressure, right?
“Come on, Hyunjae! You got this!” Hyunjae’s head coach hollers, a determined smile glowing on his face.
Looking around, all Hyunjae can see is his teammates encouraging him to score a goal for the free throw, though concern glistens in their eyes.
Breathe.
Get your head in the game!
“Hyunjae!” A male voice yells. “You can do this,” tone crystal clear, crescent moons glitter in the galaxy of wonders behind Younghoon’s eyes, and adrenaline rushes through the golden boy’s body, blood supplying his lungs, and heart.
Hyunjae feels an immense surge of energy bringing him back to his senses. Steadying his legs and bending, lowering himself in a squat position, he stretches his arms out. The timer beeps, numbers decreasing as each second passes.
Hyunjae leaps, throwing the basketball over like a rainbow as the seconds tick. His teammates and the audience hold their breath, heart racing in fear of the situation.
The timer beeps as the basketball swiftly enter the hoop and the crowd from the benches stand up like a wave, cheering in excitement.
Hyunjae breathes for real this time. When Hyunjae looks to his right, his eyes meet Younghoon’s, and before he can say anything, Younghoon dashes down the stairs, and approaches him.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” Younghoon raises a brow, unfolding the shirt, pushing it to him, and glances at the gift basket. Then, he looks at him, “Do you have a girlfriend?” Younghoon smiles an endearing smile.
Hyunjae does what he never imagined doing unless it was too late.
Hyunjae steps closer, honey-brown eyes holding Younghoon’s gaze, asking, “Have I ever told you that all I ever wanted was you?” For a second, it leaves Younghoon startled, letting out a soft laugh, but becomes silent, realizing Hyunjae’s gaze falls to his lips.
And for some reason, he feels his heartbeat quicken, eyes closing, anticipating a kiss. Hyunjae moves closer, and maybe, just maybe this could answer why he’s been so distant from him.
When Younghoon feels Hyunjae press his lips against his, and move gently, bringing a hand to the nape of his neck, his heart flutters inside his chest. He’s taken back at how he’s slow, soft, and affectionate, deepening the kiss, and how Hyunjae’s hands feel warm against his cheek.
Younghoon kisses him back shyly and feels his heartbeat drum in his ears so loud that he’s sure his ears are tinted red.
Because when Younghoon pulls away, looking at Hyunjae in adoration as if he’s his entire world, everything all makes sense.
“I missed you, but you know, I fell in love with you,” Hyunjae says, “I couldn’t tell you because of how messed up it’s been since you were gone,” there’s sadness dripping in his voice, but he smiles, reaching for Younghoon’s hand.
“I think I’ve always loved you but didn’t know it until now,” Younghoon says, lips curving into an angelic smile. “We’re not leaving each other anytime soon, are we?”
“I’d rather be with you than attend the game’s afterparty,” Hyunjae winks, and Younghoon rolls his eyes playfully, shaking his head. “By the way, why didn’t you visit me if you missed me?”
“I wasn’t someone you’d probably like back then.”
“Name one reason,” Younghoon says, though he knows about the rumors of Hyunjae. Younghoon doesn’t let that hurt him too much, but it did hurt. He couldn’t confess because of his one-night stands, and his fooling around.
“Break every girl's heart only to realize my heart is throbbing and that I’ve always loved you, yeah?”
“Good point. You’re a better person now, so don't ever think I don't like you, okay?”
"Platonic or Romantic?" Hyunjae nudges Younghoon’s shoulder, a grin settling on his lips.
"Shut up, golden boy,” Younghoon smiles, turning Hyunaje around, and hugs him. “I love you,” and Hyunjae’s world blooms.
Because now Younghoon is a part of his world, and forever evermore.