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Horangi opened his eyes completely, lying on the pillow. He glanced at the clock by his table. On it “02:37” was displayed in lines of red, blinking at him.
He felt his cheeks warm, the cause he knew for sure. Was it the dreams he’s been living through in his subconscious? Or is it the temperature of the room and the way he’s tucked himself under the blankets? No.
He sat up on his bed. One of his hands found its way to his head as he let it lower and slither across his face, groaning at the questions building up in his mind.
When did it even start?
Horangi hadn’t ever thought of being captivated over someone else. Simple infatuations or any pretense of love has little to no place in service, and by extension, KorTac. He took that by heart. Nothing’s lost if you never cared anyway he’d repeat to himself.
Ever since he joined the ROK Armed Forces, it changed him. Substantially for the better. He learned to control himself and his urges, and trained and honed in on his skills in battle. He didn’t earn the name “Horangi” for nothing if it wasn’t for his ferocity and the excellence he had built for himself.
And yet it came crashing down by a single person. What defenses he had built for his heart due to his dedication and duty in the life of a soldier were all nullified by the man he had called friend ever since they became acquainted several months ago.
König.
Horangi’s heart skipped a beat at even the name crossing his mind, eyes fully awake in the aftermath.
He has become close with the Austrian, being accustomed to the man’s intimidating presence and physique, and growing used to his timid social disposition and discomfort with people that he’s not comfortable with. They were practically close-knit, the camaraderie grown through both gunfights shared in the battlefield against their enemies and occasional movie nights with butter popcorn.
A soft shaky chuckle left his mouth, reminiscing the way they’d argue over which movie to pick only to end up sleeping on one another after it. The exhale that followed only made him realize the depth of his feelings.
It wasn’t that he was bad at feelings, he always thought he was okay at it. If being friends with König taught him anything about emotions, then he learned that he was acceptable with it, or fine, or just about any word that he could associate with it. He’s given empathetic glances to him, and small smiles with a hand resting on his shoulder. He’s even given the Austrian a hug whenever he felt an anxiety attack, soothing his back while telling him “You’re okay, you’re with me” and “I’m here big guy”.
Was the way he did these actions caused him to succumb to the flutter in his heart?
No. It wasn’t that. It was something else.
“König, you absolute bastard.” He said on his own, burying his head on both his hands as he screamed into it. He acted like he was in his youth, experiencing the trepidations of the heart at the thought of someone he thought he might love.
Horangi’s mind came up with the picture that has been making him feel so flustered on this night, and the few more nights before.
The blue, nearly hidden by the dark of the fabric. The blue that stared at him as they conversed on their every day. The blue that crinkled as the man smiled beneath his hood.
He groaned once more, resting his head on the pillow and staring at the ceiling.
It’s those damn blue eyes.
The blue eyes that reminded him of cool summer nights that they’ve taken together on their walks outside the barracks. The walks that they take as they discuss heart-to-heart about everything that transpired for them.
Those same blue eyes that made his days brighter for no reason at all until these feelings had made him realize that they were just one of the reasons. When he takes a glance at those charming eyes, the taller man would look back and he knew that that single look had changed the way he felt about his friend.
It was those same blue eyes that had him think about space. It was a bit more sappy than he’d like but he knew its effect. The way they reflected the moonlight as they talked on the grass with one another was mesmerizing. He could just remember the last one they had just some two weeks ago.
“You know way too much about these things, Kim.”
“What can I do about it, big guy? It’s not that it’s avoidable.”
The two laughed together as their beer cans clink together.
“Prost!” “건배!”
Horangi first took the chance to drink, removing his mask and gulping the beer down his throat.
“Not bad of a beer they got here.” He remarked on the taste, laughing as the warm feeling of alcohol pooled on his stomach.
When König lifted the hood to drink, there was an unmistakable curiosity that left the Korean’s eyes. As if in a haze, he looked at how his friend’s Adam’s apple moved with every gulp and every taste of the liquid. He has good alcohol tolerance enough to know that he wasn’t feeling drunk, but why does he stare at his friend’s features so intently?
“Kim?”
The name caught him unprepared.
“Oh, w-what?”
“Du starrst, Freund.”
He knows just enough German to understand what it meant, and the implication left him scrambling for a defense.
König merely chuckled at seeing Horangi try and make up an excuse, the latter still finding the right words as more realizations come up on him in their drinking.
The sound of laughter had his ears twitch in unexpected delight, and…
And when he looked back at the man beside him, he looked right at his eyes. His own dark brown widened as he saw something so different. The moon, despite the clouds covering the night sky, was shone through the reflection of the blue eyes that König beheld for him.
“Beautiful…” He mumbled under his mask. He was smitten, his perspective of the Austrian so widely different than the days and weeks before. He swore he could see the sparkles of stars dancing around those beautiful blue marbles.
“Hm? Did you say something, Kim?” König looks back at him with genuine curiosity.
“N-nothing! It’s the beer… speaking for me.” Yet again he was in a scramble, hoping that the taller man would take the bait and won’t pry any further.
After some seconds of silence, Horangi let out a quiet sigh of relief. The Austrian didn’t pry at all, and he was a bit thankful.
“You must have a bad tolerance with these.” König teased.
“입닥쳐.” A quiet grumble left his mask.
They laughed and chatted for the whole night. The lingering warmth of alcohol and the slow actualization of the events that just happened stayed with him longer than after they both retreated to their own rooms.
“What have you done to me, 쾨니히?” Under his breath he swore incessant incoherent curses at the way he thought of König.
The way he looked at König after that one night was all like a storm around his mind. A beautiful storm, and a wondrous one at that. He always felt the flush of his cheeks as the taller man looked down at him whenever they talked, always wanting to elicit this more and more from him.
Whenever the latter wasn’t looking, he would gaze over the side of his obscured face, wondering what’s all beneath the hood. Though he may wonder, he already understood that he’s beautiful, pretty, and handsome. It wasn’t a matter of beauty for him to be curious over what’s underneath it because he knows König is beautiful wholeheartedly.
Horangi ruffled his already messy bedhead, exhaling with acceptance over everything.
“Fuck.”
He was in love. He accepted it, the emotions and the love he has for König.