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“Baby, come and follow me
There's not a bad thing here tonight
Save your reasons all for later
Stay with me a little while”
Lee Heeseung feels the electricity in the air the moment Park Sunghoon steps into the room.
It’s a party, to be fair, so everyone is expected to dress the part. Though it is just some college party, people nowadays would rather be caught dead than dressed half-assedly.
Leaning against the wall of the living room with a cup in his hand, Heeseung is clad in his favorite black leather-denim jacket. The dancing blue and purple lights illuminate the generous but intimate space. The bass of the deafening music thrums against his skin, his blood flowing to the beat of some of the week’s songs. There is the distinct smell of alcohol and weed in the air, filling Heeseung’s lungs enough to get him into a dazed state.
Earlier, he told himself that he’d only be having one cup and one puff since he wanted to rest; it is the weekend, after all. Sim Jaeyun, his roommate, even told him that he’d be the one to take him home since the boy has a Saturday class. Now he’s nowhere to be found. Probably keeping himself warm in the arms of the guy named Park Jongseong.
That is why Heeseung is left to his own devices. That is why Heeseung is leaning against the back wall of the living room, watching. That is why Heeseung is trying to fight the sleep off by downing one, two, or three cups of whatever spiked punch he was handed in the kitchen.
Heeseung can handle his alcohol. He isn’t drunk, per se. He’s just on the edge of becoming drunk. On the verge of falling into a mindless haze.
That is why, at the entrance of one Park Sunghoon, Heeseung finds himself wondering if he has drunk enough liquid courage to finally—finally—have the balls to talk to him.
Call him a pining idiot, a yearning fool, or a swooning moron; Heeseung couldn’t care less. Park Sunghoon has been lingering a little too close in the vicinity of Lee Heeseung’s heart, and he has half the mind to let him in already. Don’t get him wrong; he thinks that Sunghoon is an easy-to-love person. In addition to being the prettiest person Heeseung has ever seen in his 21 years of existence, Sunghoon is also the most interesting person. He’s substantial, a little bit of a clutter brain, and just human. Sunghoon isn’t perfect, and that’s what makes him perfect for Heeseung.
Heeseung knows how ridiculous it is that he can already imagine the fights they would have together as a couple. It’s absurd how he’s already so far ahead in his head that he can’t even muster up the guts to speak one two-letter word to the guy.
Sunghoon, gliding around the living room like he owns the place, looks ethereal. His platinum blond hair stands out in the sea of black and brown heads, and his red leather jacket pops against the blues and purples. He looks insanely hot, and Heeseung almost chokes on his own saliva as he admits that to himself. As he holds his gaze at Sunghoon, the atmosphere shifts. They’re playing Keshi, of course. His body trembles at the mercy of the bass.
Then, Heeseung feels Sunghoon grow attentive to something. His body stiffens and softens, and then the world seems to melt at Heeseung’s hands.
Sunghoon turns to him, and their eyes meet.
Heeseung is conscious of his knees buckling, his chest contracting, his heart stuttering, and his mouth hanging wide open.
There’s no way.
There’s absolutely no fucking way.
Except that there is. For some reason, there is a way, and Heeseung is witnessing it unfold in front of him.
Now that Heeseung thinks about it, does Sunghoon know him?
The party goes on. The song continues. Keshi’s voice floats in and fills the space. Heeseung is still looking at Sunghoon, and Sunghoon is looking at him like he sees him. Like he knows him.
Then, there is a movement.
Park Sunghoon turns to the person speaking to him, says something that makes the other person’s smile falter, and turns around to look back at him. The moment stills, the room silences, and the atmosphere sighs. It is clear that there is a time of contemplation and consideration in Sunghoon’s eyes. For a split second, Heeseung feels his heart stop along with the present stillness.
After what seems like forever, the room breathes again, and Park Sunghoon is now walking towards him. Lee Heeseung becomes frozen in time, never letting his eyes miss a single step. He notes that Sunghoon’s gaze is set on him. It is almost as if he is pinned against the wall, like a taxidermied butterfly in a glass case.
Each beat, each stride, each breath — everything feels like a finality, the accumulation and consequence of all the misplaced emotions he harbored in secret. Heeseung can see it in Sunghoon’s eyes: the recognition, the pursuit, and the fuck-it-all swimming in the air between them.
“Hello.”
Heeseung, who was too into his head, is speechless. Sunghoon is standing right in front of him. Sunghoon is talking to him. Sunghoon is.
“Hi.”
The one two-letter word. Finally.
“You’re Lee Heeseung, right?”
“Yeah. How’d you know?”
“Everyone knows you.”
“Ah.”
The gravity of the situation suddenly becomes evident to him. Heeseung, with palms open, is desperate and frustrated. He cannot let their conversation end on an awkward note.
“So.”
What the fuck, Lee Heeseung?
“So?”
Sunghoon smiles. Heeseung wishes the floor would open up and swallow him whole.
“Sorry.”
“Jaeyun told me that you are kind of awkward.”
“What?”
“Jaeyun. Your friend. The one dating Jongseongie.”
“What?”
“I asked him about you, you know.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to.”
“Why?”
Sunghoon shrugs. Heeseung’s mind cracks.
“Because you seem like a cool guy.”
What the fuck?
“You think I’m cool?”
“Yeah. Really cool, actually.”
“Oh.”
“To be honest, I’ve been looking forward to seeing you at parties these past couple of weeks. I was kinda bummed that you weren’t there at the party last weekend.”
Heeseung feels like he has drunk too much. Maybe he is dreaming. There is no way this conversation is real.
“Are you serious?”
“Dead serious.”
“You know me?”
“Uh, yes?”
“You wanted to talk to me?”
“Yup. Why, is there something wrong?”
“No. It’s just—I don’t know. This feels unreal.”
“Unreal?”
“Am I dreaming?”
“I hope not.”
“Are you really talking to me?”
“Yes, I am.”
“You’re Park Sunghoon, right? I’m not just seeing things.”
“And why would you be seeing things?”
“Because I like Park Sunghoon, and I think I’m a little drunk now.”
“Well, Park Sunghoon tells me that he likes you too.”
Heeseung is suddenly sober. Way too sober. His eyes are wide, and he’s staring dumbly at Sunghoon.
“This may be a weird request, and you can say no, but can I touch you?”
“Touch how?”
“Like your hand or your arm. Just to make sure I’m not seeing things.”
“You’re still at that, huh?”
“I’m so sorry. I really have to make sure I’m not drunk like that.”
“Well, go ahead.”
Sunghoon stretches out his hand and, without waiting for Heeseung to even move an inch, takes Heeseung’s hand into his. Heeseung squeezes, making sure to observe the warmth radiating from the hand he is holding.
Holy shit, he is real.
Holy shit, did I just confess to him?
“So, what’s the verdict, officer?”
Sunghoon asks with a smug smile etched on his face. Heeseung is not sure if the universe is working for or against him.
“You’re really real.”
“Yes, I am.”
“And I just confessed to you.”
“Yes, you did.”
Again, a stillness. A pregnant pause lingers. The song fades away, and Heeseung just notices that it had only been three or so minutes since Sunghoon first made a move towards him.
So, this is what forever feels like.
“And you told me that—”
Heeseung swallows the lump forming in his throat. Sunghoon waits patiently.
“You told me that Park Sunghoon told you that he likes me?”
“That’s what I said. Or what he said. Well, that’s what we said.”
The number of phantom silences hovering between them is enough to have him gasping for air, but Heeseung fights his way through.
“Is that true?”
“What?”
“Do you like me?”
“Well, of course I do.”
“And you’re real?”
“Yes, Heeseung. I am.”
“You’re Park Sunghoon.”
“The last time I checked, that’s me.”
Their hands are still together. Heeseung squeezes again, making sure that Sunghoon is there. He is. The electricity that was once in the air vibrates through their skin, a warm tingling sensation traveling through Heeseung’s spine and all over his body.
He looks at their surroundings, then back at Sunghoon.
“Do you want to get dinner with me?”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
“It’s two in the morning.”
“Then, a late night snack.”
“And just where will we be having this snack?”
“I know a good place near our dorm that’s open all the time.”
Sunghoon stares at him, looking like he’s thinking about it, and gazes down at their intertwined hands.
Heeseung holds his breath.
“Sure, why not?”
He exhales.
Lee Heeseung peels himself from the wall, the end of the beginning, and guides them through the crowd. Somewhere along the way, he puts down his cup and turns to see if Park Sunghoon is still there. He is.
This, to Heeseung, is just the beginning.
(The voice at the back of his head thanks Jaeyun for abandoning him.)