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The night is young by the hands of juvenile sighs and smiles running across a tiny pub. Hankuk Law School students cover the entire floor, sleeping drunk or dancing drunk. Not everyone knows each other, but all of them are studying to understand the same thing. And that is the one thing they wish not to talk about. In this rare moment, they are future law workers quoting the philosophical thoughts of philosophers they hate. Some overthink what to say their shot of glass is grabbed by their friends, while some say one word and then immediately pass out. The very thing philosophers can’t make are conventional rules, their words are only written to be controversial ideologies. Like a noble figure who prays for wisdom, these university students pray for their limited knowledge to let them pass the bar.
Happiness, hopes, daydreams, regrets, and pity takes over their whole body. Feelings are overwhelming after being suppressed to sit and answer in a quiet white room for hours. Then all you feel is exasperated for the entire day until the night. The whole day, all you can be is busy. In the morning, do exams with question-and-answers to think, rethink, check, and recheck. In the afternoon, recount the exam by bragging about your correctness, blaming the time, and being frozen when realizing your mistakes. In the moving night of stars that shine brighter than the future, drink it all to your digestion.
The bar is where hopes and dreams are spoken to be dead and damned, just for the night. Tonight, they aren’t buried just yet. The following day is another decision. To pick up the shovel, dig the deepest grave, or strive into the tunnel of new light, or keep it in your hand along with its secrets. There are no easier ways to live, but there are livelier ways where fun and safe aren’t in the same room. And what is a lively bar if not without music played by the local college band? Their music brings deeper agony to your heart, deafens your ears as a reminder of disappointment, makes your hand slither and hide your face, and pierces your eyes to pop off your skull.
As horrifying as young adults in the teenhood phase may sound, this college band wasn’t atrocious. Someone is willing to sit in the corner and seemingly listens pleasantly to them. Quite near to the compact stage, so near to the sound system. Never Sleepers weren’t bad singers. They're far from great as much as they’re far from bad. They sound like someone who just watched a movie with an edgy band as main characters, and just decided to form a band.
Jisoo doesn’t understand if he has a longing to get wasted by luscious drinks alone at a table for two or simply does not exist at this moment and the moments more to come. Being in the corner of the room is like a hidden exit way to the absence of life. A gloomy young man with a checkered buttoned-up shirt under the dim light. Holding an empty glass of whiskey without nobody to pour more to him. The alternative rock song makes him somber as he keeps biting his tongue.
Eyes are the gate to the soul, and Jisoo’s eyes have lost their glint. Having the ability to move, but not to feel. To drink the knowledge he sees, but not to savor. But as his eyes linger to look closely at the band performing, he regained a hidden youthful sense: to taste.
His heart has been beating the same rhythm as the bass tunes. He is captured in the void eclipse, mesmerized by the music that's capturing all his senses to stay. The face of the young bassist is full of joy and passion for his artwork, his band's mediocre performance with potential. Jisoo likes his taste of him. So sweet, like a distraction. Have a drink or two, a delightful interaction.
Perhaps after staring too long, the bassist returns Jisoo's gaze. Such a strong gaze with soft eyes from a young man with tender lips and fluffy black hair. Seokmin might have sunk into the mysterious man in the corner. His innocence led him to believe that it was love at first sight.
It's the biggest flattery that such a sophisticated and handsome man would look at a rascal like him. Seokmin is wearing a white shirt with some satirical illustrations and text on it, along with a beige cardigan on top. His shirt is bigger than his actual ideal size, showing his left collar bones slightly. His white converse shoes look like it's been through a hell of trash after not being washed for more than three months. His skinny ripped jeans look ironically more decent than the rest of his clothing. At least it fits him.
While Jisoo wears an exquisitely patterned navy polo shirt with two top buttons opened. You can see his cross necklace right in the middle of his chest. It's not a rosary, which is unusual since he wears it daily. God knows if he keeps a clean and holy bath with it in the shower. His Dr. Martens shoes look clean and shiny. After all, he has kept it tucked nicely in his shoe rack, never wearing it. His brown trousers, on the other hand, look overworn. He forgot to iron it this morning.
Even with quiet and intense staring, Seokmin is still composed. He still remembers the strings he needs to press to the song he's playing. Jisoo, feeling caught, starts growing embarrassed. He looks down at his invisible watch latched around his wrist. Seokmin licks his lips from this abrupt end to their meeting eyes. He looks back to the knocked-down audience who wouldn't care about their music even when they're conscious. He’ll miss it in the meantime.
Jisoo busies himself by looking at the rain droplets by the window. How it slowly washes away today’s sorrows. But tonight’s moon hasn’t shined the true path for him. This past month, he hasn’t thought about anything else but finishing his current studies and his future career. After meticulous planning, he believes all of it to be perfect. Though it isn’t a perfect life for him so far. Because every night after hours of studying his ass off, it’s just empty time, not free time. There’s nothing for him to do. Even now, when there’s a glass of whiskey to finish right in front of him. Drinking it will still leave him empty.
Only when he lays his eyes upon this obscure Never Sleepers bassist, he’s found a taste of enjoyment. Falling out of this misery with just one look away. Leaving now like all the passed-out law students will haunt him for not waiting a little longer for this unspeakable feeling to burst into love. It is Seokmin’s fervent burst of colors, contrary to the monochrome daunt and cold pub. Maybe it’s his dyed autumn brown hair that’s slowly turning black again. The warmth of Seokmin’s colors lures Jisoo. He wants to be touched by him, like the sunlight against his skin in the eclipse.
It’s crazy to think that you could only find a little bit of happiness and sunshine by imagining that you’re hugging a stranger.
Just twenty seconds before their last song ends, Seokmin's wide-eyed gaze checks the stranger by the corner again. He tilts his head, confused, as Jisoo is getting up from his chair. The law student heads to the dark bathroom hall on the corner and enters the door. Just before the door creaks closed, Seokmin swears that their eyes connected again for a split second. And with the door clicked close, Seokmin couldn’t hear anything else. His bandmates thanking the audience echoes like nonsense to his ears. He gulps, only to be capable of hearing his heartbeat and what it wants. His pupils grew bigger slowly, his head unmoving from where he last saw Jisoo, while gently getting his bass off from him and giving it to one of his bandmates.
Free from this performance, he knows what to do. However absurd this feeling that’s pushing him to move and how their meeting will go in the bathroom, Seokmin knows that this is his only chance despite the odds of his usual meek character. Seokmin jumps off the shallow stage and runs to the bathroom door. He opens it wide and enters. Gasping, then catching back his breath as the door behind him creaks slowly to a close.
Jisoo was just splashing water on his face to freshen him up and stay awake longer than he should. The pub is closing at two am, but he seems to plan on staying awake as he reaches home for another few hours. Jisoo gets startled by the loud and sudden appearance of his desired stranger. Seokmin begins to fix his posture to stand upright and look presentable. He smooths his shirt with his palm. He walks cooly to Jisoo’s side, trying to act as if nothing happened. Seokmin doesn’t even know what he’s doing, but still has his shoulders high as if he just pulled an ace up his sleeves. Jisoo stares at him in confusion, blinking rapidly at Seokmin’s spontaneity.
Just before Seokmin turns on the sink, Jisoo coughs at him. The bassist turns his head to the law student.
“It’s broken. I’ve tried.” Jisoo points at the sink just inches away from Seokmin’s fingertip.
“Oh! Alright.” Seokmin lets out an awkward chuckle.
“You can use my sink instead. It’s the only one working around here. Well, after trying all of ‘em.” Jisoo scoots over for Seokmin to use the sink he was using.
“Cool. Thanks!” Seokmin shoots a light smile at him.
“No problem!” Jisoo shoots back the most tender smile with his teeth showing.
Seokmin rinses his hands with the cold water from the sink. He tries to search for the soap, then Jisoo immediately throws two pumps at him. Seokmin mouths a ‘thank you’ at him, then returns his focus to washing his hands.
“So, you’re the bassist, right? Up on the stage, accompanying our night?” Jisoo knows the answer already. But, hey! Small talk is still small talk.
“Yeah! Time passed by rather quickly for me up there. But as much as I love showcasing my craft, the night has to say its goodbyes too. I’m tired now, in short.” Seokmin looks at Jisoo endearingly as he explains. He feels rather lucky that the stranger could kill the silence first instead of him wasting his confidence by stating something weird.
“The bass is such a romantic instrument, no?” Again, Seokmin feels luckier with Jisoo continuing the conversation.
“It really is. After all, I’m a hopeless romantic myself.” They laugh together for a short second.
After Seokmin rinses his hands with water quickly, then dries it off by flapping his hands in the air. He stretches an arm out, and Jisoo accepts it for a handshake.
“I’m Seokmin.” He shakes their hands. “Nice to meet you.”
“The same for you. I’m Jisoo.” The glint in his eyes came back. They let go of each other’s hands.
“Did you enjoy my band’s performance?” Seokmin is very curious about this indeed if he awed the stranger.
“Oh, I did, I did. It was swell. You played nicely, too.” Sad to confess, their music didn’t strike him to carve a memory of a remarkable eargasm.
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” Seokmin bites his lips, slightly doubting.
Jisoo looks at the floor, then into his eyes. He squeezes Seokmin’s shoulder in reassurance. “Very much.”
Seokmin holds the handle of the faucet. His grip grows stronger as he admires more of Jisoo's outlines and shapes of his face and body. The gap between his lips parts ways slowly from adoring. Suddenly, the faucet is turned fully, flowing lush water.
“Sorry, I got distracted.” Seokmin massages his nape.
“By what?”
The place is too plain with nothing to look at. Just black and white tiles on the floor, some cracked. Then random scribbles (or vandalism) on the walls. The mirrors are clean and normal as well. Is it something on the gap in his teeth? Something between the strand of his jet-black hair? A stain on his shirt? Jisoo thought.
“Your lips.” It slurs off Seokmin’s mouth. Then he immediately covers it with his hand briefly. “Agh, gosh! I’m so sorry.” He panics.
Jisoo shakes his head reassuringly. “No, no. It’s okay.”
Seokmin takes a breath, hesitating before explaining. “It’s just, your beauty, really. You’re beautiful, Jisoo.” He smiles at the thought of his feelings for this stranger. “I think that I might just like you.”
“Seokmin, do you want to kiss me?” Jisoo blushes at asking the question, a secret request of his as well. The man being asked blushes too.
“Yes?” Is this a trick question? A request? Whatever it was meant as, Seokmin wants to kiss Jisoo.
“I like you too, along with a kiss.” Jisoo grins. He brushes softly, his fingertip against Seokmin’s jawline to his chin.
Their hearts skipped a bit. They mutually know what’s going to happen to two people who have the same feelings. Seokmin’s head leans closer slowly and Jisoo closes the seal of two lips desiring one another, a not-so stranger to one another. They keep pushing and pulling without stopping this passionate kiss.
Jisoo takes off Seokmin’s cardigan and throws it somewhere near, the dry sink. Jisoo places his hands on Seokmin’s chest, feeling a bit of his uncovered warm skin, and his sharp collarbone. Seokmin untucks Jisoo’s expensive polo shirt. He inserts his hands to feel Jisoo’s waist and his toned abs. Seokmin holds Jisoo stronger than he holds on to his dear life. They were each other’s before they knew it, creating this sudden illicit relationship in the middle of the night.
Butterfly kisses are given from Jisoo to Seokmin. From his neck to his collarbone. Jisoo sucks nimbly the bassist’s sharp collarbone, against his tanned skin. Seokmin moans faintly with pleasure. It goes from his collarbone to his shoulder. Seokmin’s shoulder has always been his weirdly sensitive body part. He shudders at the feeling of Jisoo’s lips and tongue. From the shoulder to his neck, then back to the lips. Jisoo gives rapid tender pecks at Seokmin’s lips. The bassist chuckles at how cute it is and the law student smiles discreetly.
Seokmin pulls Jisoo closer, then nibbles his ear. Their hard-on brushes against each other, just a few layers of cloth away. Just the covered friction with Jisoo lazily grinding at him throws Seokmin’s head back. He purses his lips, trying to hold his moan. He catches back his breath, then kisses Jisoo swiftly.
They sway to the bathroom door with Jisoo’s back pinned against it. Seokmin licks his cheek playfully. Seokmin brushes his defined nose against Jisoo’s. He then continues to bite tenderly the law student’s lips that might have told some white lies tonight. Jisoo slips his hands under the bassist’s tee. He touches the sides of Seokmin’s body, like molding and sculpting each edge, curve, and line. Jisoo pulls himself closer and kisses Seokmin. The bassist holds his face dearly. Jisoo parts his lips from him. Seokmin’s eyes turn wide, puzzled.
“Can we take this back to your place?” Jisoo whispers. Seokmin chuckles hoarsely as a reply.
They open the door together, out of the bathroom, out of the pub. Smiling at each other as they’re leaving. They hold each other’s arms tightly as they walk the streets after it rains. Such a curious and weirdly enchanting longing for the touch of a stranger has taught them how tender it is. As the night ends, they still have hopes for their skin to grow attached.