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The butterflies in his stomach had long metamorphosed into something weightier, more prostrating—though it was still Taeyong’s doing. Doyoung wondered if he’d ever live to see a day where Taeyong’s name didn’t peek through a chasm in his thoughts, the ones Doyoung couldn’t bear to fill. He’d never admit it to himself, but he didn’t want to extinguish the possibility of letting in the light.
He’d just moved into a new apartment, his first with a guest room, and was tidying up for a weekend of hosting his parents. It was one of those moments where Doyoung was painfully aware of being an adult and all that entails. The role reversals, the responsibilities, the necessity of being the comforter, rather than the comforted. He was cleaning out the drawer of one of the guest room’s nightstands when he saw it: the polaroid. He handled it with care, holding it gently by the edges as he shut the drawer and sat down on the bed. It was like looking at a ghost, at evidence of a past life.
Doyoung thought he’d rid himself of such relics but there in his hand laid the indisputable proof of his love. In the photo, which they’d asked a stranger to take for them, Doyoung and Taeyong are standing with their backs to the camera. Taeyong’s face isn’t visible, he’s staring at a gorgeous vista, their reward for spending hours hiking up the mountain. Doyoung is captured in profile, a smile on his face, looking at what he deemed to be the most beautiful sight in the world.
They were young, fresh out of college and high on the promise of the rest of their lives. The road trip was last minute. Doyoung’s parents had gotten a new car and decided their old one wasn’t worth trading in, so it ended up with Doyoung. Taeyong had been the one to suggest they postpone applying to jobs until the fall. They had all the time in the world to work. When would they have this type of time again? A real summer break, the kind that feels like an alternate reality, where the days are long and the nights are longer and it feels like anything’s possible.
Though they were only friends, Doyoung had long been aware of the charge in the air every time he and Taeyong were in the same room. He feared what would happen in the presence of a spark. Everything could be engulfed by flames.
With the money they were able to save from their off-campus jobs, Doyoung and Taeyong stayed in cheap roadside motels when they could and contorted themselves into sleeping in the car when they couldn’t. Chilly, close quarters were the norm. It was only a matter of time before they needed to strike a match.
They were traveling through a mountainous region where the cold nights belied the time of year. The bedding in the motel was light and they tried not to think too hard about the establishment’s housekeeping standards. Doyoung and Taeyong both wore their thickest sweatsuits and still found themselves shivering under the threadbare sheets. Doyoung invited Taeyong into his twin bed. For warmth, of course. To simply maximize the effects of their body heat.
Doyoung had never been in such close proximity to Taeyong’s face before. He always found his friend attractive, objectively, but it felt sacred, somehow, to be exposed to something so beautiful so intimately. He had the strong desire to reach out and touch Taeyong’s face, to trace its chiseled symmetry. Looking directly into his large, dark eyes was out of the question. Doyoung couldn’t stand to see his own reflection. He held his breath. Taeyong lifted his chin with his thumb, forcing their gazes to meet and Doyoung watched the fire form. He kissed Taeyong. He kissed Taeyong until they were sweaty and naked and laughing in the glowing embers.
The next day they were headed to a nearby dark-sky park. A place with so little light pollution that it‘s possible to see the Milky Way with the naked eye if the atmospheric conditions are right. It was the part of the trip Taeyong was most excited about. Doyoung had questioned him about it, he hadn’t realized Taeyong was so interested in astronomy. Taeyong had explained that he was less concerned with the science of the sky and more so with the romance of it. The way humans felt compelled to group the heavenly bodies into constellations, bringing them back down to earth, transforming them into something comprehendible. Recognizable. He was often moved by such displays of humanity and in turn, Doyoung was moved by Taeyong.
“Are you sure we’re going the right way?”
Doyoung nodded as he drove hunched over the steering wheel, his shoulders at his ears. “This is the only road.”
Taeyong tried in vain to refresh the map on his phone. They were miles away from any semblance of cellular service. “I thought there’d be some other people around.”
“I guess we’re the only ones who had this idea tonight.” Doyoung turned to look at Taeyong for a moment and grabbed his hand, bringing it to his mouth to kiss. Taeyong laughed.
Still holding Doyoung’s hand, Taeyong sighed and looked out the window. “It’s a New Moon and it’s a clear night. There should be dozens, or hundreds of other people here tonight. Something doesn’t feel right.”
“It’ll all be okay, Tyongie, I promise.” Doyoung tightened his grip on Taeyong.
The paved road turned into gravel and then into dirt, forcing Doyoung to drive the hand-me-down sedan slowly, given its lack of four-wheel drive. The headlights of their car formed the only light source as they drove through the dark of the forest towards the promised clearing. Doyoung’s optimism was waning, but he’d never let Taeyong know that.
After another 20 minutes down the road, their headlights lit up a carved wooden sign indicating their arrival. Sure enough, the claustrophobia of low-hanging branches had given way to a small field. They got out of the car and sat on the hood, looking out towards nothing in particular while they waited for their eyes to adjust to the dark.
“Hey, Taeyong?”
“Yeah?”
Doyoung bit his bottom lip and puffed out his cheeks. The words had escaped him before he had a chance to tame them. “Did you know… that would happen… last night?” In the seconds before Taeyong’s response, Doyoung was exposed to true silence for the first time in his life. He couldn’t just hear his heartbeat, he could hear his blood coursing through his veins. No one should be that aware of their own corporality. He wasn’t sure the view would be worth the existential terror.
“Of course.” Taeyong laughed.
“What?”
“There’s no point in fighting these things, Doie. What’s meant to be will be.” He hummed thoughtfully.
“Can I ask you something else?” Doyoung didn’t want to risk being privy to any more bodily functions. He’d fill the space with talking. He was good at that.
Taeyong laid back against the windshield with his hands behind his head. "Wow!” He kicked Doyoung with his foot.
“Ow!”
“You’ve gotta see this!” Doyoung’s eyes follow the pathway of Taeyong’s arm, stretched out towards the heavens, one finger pointing at the entire universe. He’d never seen anything so clearly.
Doyoung copied Taeyong’s positioning, lying close enough that they were touching. “Wow,” he whispered, suddenly feeling very shy about disrupting the natural world. He knew the overwhelming scale of the sky should make him feel small, inconsequential, but it also reminded Doyoung of his, of everyone’s, capacity to destroy what’s meant to be preserved. He was overcome with a sort of solemn reverence, the kind he’d always expected to feel in church but never really had, if he was being honest with himself.
“We’re really just a couple of specks of dust, aren’t we?” There was no terror in Taeyong’s voice. Only awe. Acceptance.
“It’s a shame how much damage a few billion specks of dust can do.”
“I don’t think billions are responsible.”
“You’re right. It’s really just a few bad specks that ruin everything for everyone else.”
“Hey, Doyoung?”
“Yeah?” There was no silence for Doyoung anymore. Only a looping refrain, spinning round and round in his ears and in the base of his throat, threatening to spill out. I love you, I love you, I love you . Maybe this was how humans have always endured. Why they love. To have something to cling onto, to focus on, aside from the knowledge of one’s own mortality.
“Never mind.”
“What is it?”
I love you, I love you , I love you.
“I forgot, honestly.” Taeyong laughed nervously.
Doyoung moved to rest his head on Taeyong’s chest. “You’ll have to let me know if you remember.” The sound of Taeyong’s heartbeat was anything but disturbing.
They laid looking up at the sky for as long as they could before the chill of the night started to seep into their bones. They stole one last kiss, then one last look at the sky, and got back in the car, the drive down the dirt, then gravel, then paved road feeling much shorter on the way out, now that they knew how it all ended.
Taeyong yawned as Doyoung merged back onto the highway after another half hour of back roads. There was more traffic than they would’ve expected given the hour, but Doyoung was grateful for the extra light and movement to keep him alert until they reached the next motel. Taeyong fidgeted with the radio until he found a station playing Motown and other oldies, breaking out in a massive grin when “It’s Too Late To Turn Back Now” came on. He started to dance and sing along, really hamming it up to help keep Doyoung alert. He held out an imaginary microphone towards Doyoung.
“I believe, I believe, I believe I’m falling in love,” Doyoung sang, wearing a goofy smile.
“It’s too late! To turn back! Now!” Taeyong crooned along exaggeratedly.
Doyoung could feel the memory forming, filmed on flickering Super 8 film, destined to be played again and again and again.
“WATCH OUT!”
He slammed on the breaks. The pickup truck ahead of them had hit something. It stopped, reversed, then sped away from the scene.
“Oh my god, Doyoung! Pull over!”
There it was again. That terrifying awareness. The sound of his own blood in his ears.
“Taeyong, wait!”
Before Doyoung could stop the car, Taeyong was already unbuckled, jumping out onto the side of the road and tumbling onto his shoulder. He quickly got up and ran towards a darkened mass just up ahead. Doyoung turned off the ignition and willed himself not to vomit.
“She’s hurt, Doie! We have to get her help!”
The specificity of a gender worsened Doyoung’s anxiety. Oh god. What if it was a person ? He sprinted to meet Taeyong who was sitting on the road, cradling something in his arms. Doyoung kneeled down.
“Doie,” Taeyong’s voice cracked. His eyes were filled with tears, reflecting the headlights of the cars that periodically whooshed by. Not a single one bothered to stop or even slow down. “She’s hurt… We h-have to help her.” He was shaking, hiccuping on his words from the severity of his sobs.
“Oh, Tyongie.” Doyoung sighed. He knew there was no hope of saving the doe, her head cradled as if she were a beloved pet in Taeyong’s lap. He stood up and took a lap around her body. There was a remarkable lack of blood or gore, but he knew the hit was fatal. The truck was too big, driving too fast. The internal bleeding had to be profuse.
For just a moment, as he watched the animal whimpering in Taeyong’s arms, he reminded of the famous photo of Evelyn McHale, a beautiful woman who’d jumped to her death off the top of the Empire State Building, landing on a car in a way so seemingly unfazed by such a traumatic death that the photograph was called, "the most beautiful suicide".
He hated himself for thinking of that now. For the way death could be fetishized when it happened to the young and beautiful, especially in such a dramatic way.
“We—” Hiccup. “Have—” Hiccup. “To help—” Hiccup. “Her.”
Doyoung knelt down again and draped his arm around Taeyong’s shoulders. “She’s too hurt and we’re too far from any vet.” Taeyong shook his head and placed his forehead to the doe’s. Doyoung couldn’t believe how calm the wild animal was under his touch, even though she was in shock.
His own eyes started to well. Doyoung was sad for the random, senseless death of an innocent animal but also, he was profoundly moved by Taeyong’s limitless capacity for compassion.
I love you, I love you , I love you.
He rubbed Taeyong’s back as Taeyong kept his face pressed to the doe’s. Doyoung wanted to ask to move back just a bit, in case of disease, but he knew there was no use. Taeyong was going to make sure that animal felt as much love as possible until its final seconds. Even here, the visibility of the night sky was remarkable. He hoped the doe was able to see it.
When the doe’s breathing stopped, Doyoung lightly tapped Taeyong on the back and kissed the top of his head. “She’s gone, sweetie. You made the end of her life a beautiful one, I know it. We’ll give her a proper burial, alright? Even if it takes us until morning to dig a grave.”
Taeyong slowly lifted his head and took a deep breath. Small, silent tears were still falling. “We have to.” He used two fingers to gently close the doe’s eyelids, granting her the release of rest.
Doyoung wrapped his arms around Taeyong and embraced him as tight as he possibly could. “I love you, Taeyong.”
It should’ve been a sign, when Taeyong didn’t immediately repeat the words. Maybe it was poor timing. Maybe it was being faced with death so early in the life of their relationship. Or maybe it was none of that. Maybe it was written in the stars all along for their love to be a short one.
If there’d been a shift after Doyoung’s proclamation, he didn’t notice it then. For the rest of their trip they were two young people drunk on the thrill of each other’s bodies, on the warmth of their skin. The discomfort of their lodgings was outmatched only by the beauty of their surroundings and the hunger to live that summer. Doyoung had no reason to think anything would ever change.
Until it did.
It didn’t take Doyoung, who graduated top of his class, long to land multiple job offers. He’d have to move to the city if he intended to take any of them.
Taeyong decided to stay and return to school, enrolling in any of the prerequisites he’d missed in order to apply to veterinary school.
They tried to keep in touch, keeping things loose and casual, neither wanting to keep the other from living his life. Doyoung found he was incapable of casual. He cut Taeyong loose.
He looked at the picture again, at his youthful eyes, the way they shined. He could still hear the refrain, only quieter now.
I love you, I love you , I love you.