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Seoul shrugged into autumn, pulling it on like a well-loved cardigan. The city was calm, the evenings crisp. Pedestrians stopped at corners, waiting for friends, then gathered in their groups and moved to food stalls, cheerful voices ringing across assorted tables and benches. The Han riverfront was locked in a cosy festival of shared laughter and warm drinks as, lattes in hand, trios and quartets roamed the walkways.
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&Team had a lot of free time lately. They were between releases, and television stations in Korea and Japan were both focusing on their harvest season programming, so the group weren’t making the usual circuit on variety shows. &Team’s time was their own. Their evenings were tranquil.
And Yuma was excruciatingly bored.
He slapped closed the paperback comic he was reading and tossed the book across the room. It landed perfectly on the desk. He didn’t see it — he didn’t even have to look, assured of his aim. And he’d already done it twice already today. Usually, he’d visit Jo for a while, just for a change of pace, but Jo was out of the dorm on some errand. Yuma didn’t know what Jo was doing but regretted not volunteering to tag along.
He half-rolled from his back to his side, reaching behind to tug on the corner of the small pocket-sized notebook he’d laid down on. He detached the small pencil from its loop, opened the notebook and looked at the ceiling, frowning. There had to be a word for how bored he was, how dull the quiet and inactivity made his senses.
stultified
stupified
on my side
tongue-tied
He wrote the rhyming list as quickly as the words occurred, without thinking too much about them, just trying to define the impressions he’d held in the last few minutes. That was how he wrote — his process, their art director had once described it — and his collection of Moleskines was a testament to how often he had these bursts; labelled spines showing the dates were lined up on the shelf over the desk. The members usually left him alone when they saw him writing. They happily gave him all their attention when he read an entry aloud to them, but overall, they ignored his notebooks.
Except Jo.
When the group had first moved into the dorm, Jo had spent more time in Yuma’s room than his own. Yuma couldn’t blame him; Jo’s bedroom was usually in a state of mayhem. Taki and Maki were loud, and even leader EJ’s calm influence couldn’t do much to dampen the chaos. Jo would wander across the hall, folding his long legs onto Fuma’s bed across from Yuma’s. Jo would listen as Yuma chatted, answering when asked a question but otherwise content to sit and listen, looking around the room curiously and spending a lot of time looking up at the neat row of Moleskines above the desk.
Yuma hadn’t thought much about it at first. Jo was naturally quiet. He’d been in the group three months before they’d even heard him make noise when he laughed. And he was welcome in the room. Yuma shared it with K and Fuma, the two oldest members. They didn’t make him feel unwelcome or childish, but he still couldn’t always relate to them when their conversations turned to topics like investments or pop culture references from when he was a child. Jo, just barely a year younger, was his peer. And somehow, despite the silences, a great conversationalist.
In the years since, they had grown closer, and Jo became Yuma’s go-to person for… just about everything. He sought Jo out when he needed to relax. He sought Jo out when he needed mental stimulation. He sought Jo out when he was uncomfortable, the crowds were too large and loud, or the spaces were too big, and he felt panic rising. Extra food in the delivery bag? Find Jo. Extra ticket? Jo. Extra time? Jo, of course.
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The beeping of the dorm keypad outside broke through Yuma’s scattered thoughts, and he launched himself up from the bed, swinging his legs over the side and jumping from the top bunk to the floor. He only managed to get one slipper onto his foot, the other half-secure, as he hobbled out of the bedroom and into the large central living area. K and Fuma were on the floor, backs against the couch while watching Pokemon and some of the younger members were draped across the furniture like discarded toys, trading jokes. Nicholas and EJ were nowhere to be seen but were probably holed up in the room Nicholas shared with Haura.
The sound of plastic bags and the thudding of shoes being kicked off. Yuma rounded the corner in time to see Jo struggling through the narrow entry hall and making his way into their kitchen. Yuma jumped forward, hands out to grab some of the bags to relieve Jo of their weight. Jo smiled warmly in thanks, his dark eyes sparkling. Yuma grinned back.
“Will you tell the others their food is here?” Jo asked.
“Why didn’t they get it delivered?”
Jo shrugged. “I volunteered. I was bored.”
Yuma looked at him for a second with a raised eyebrow, remembering his recent boredom and how he’d wanted to find Jo to alleviate it. He turned and leaned around the kitchen wall. “Food, losers! And get it yourselves next time. Jo was carrying six times his weight for your lazy asses.” Laughs and jeers as the group sat up and stretched, preparing to invade the kitchen.
disunity
missed opportunity
impunity
community
I guess this is what my brain is doing tonight, then. He chuckled inwardly. At least one of us has something to do.
Yuma made a decision. He grabbed Jo’s arm and dragged him from the room, back down the hallway to stand in the space between their bedroom doors. “Wait here,” he instructed. Jo nodded. Yuma dived into his room and grabbed the first thick sweater he could find. It wasn’t cold enough for a coat outside, but this should do. He was still pulling it over his head when he left the room, accidentally bumping into Jo, who laughed and reflexively grabbed Yuma's waist to steady him before being bowled completely over. Yuma’s head popped out of the top of the sweater, and he grinned.
“Thanks, sorry.”
“No problem. What are you doing?”
“Kidnapping you. I’m bored out of my mind tonight. I wanted to find you earlier, but you were playing errand boy. I’m taking this chance. Get your shoes on. Let’s go to the Han.”
Jo nodded again. He reached up to smooth Yuma’s tousled hair and smiled down at him. “You’re a mess.”
Yuma laughed as they went to the front door and slid into shoes. Yuma called to the others.
“We’re going to Han Park. See you later!”
A bedroom door opened, and EJ peeked out. “Wait! We were talking about going, too. Let’s share a cab.”
Yuma looked at Jo, who nodded. A few moments later, the quartet — EJ, Nicholas, Jo and Yuma — were spilling out onto the sidewalk in front of the dorm and waiting for a cab. The air was a bit cooler than Yuma expected, but running back inside for a coat wasn’t worth it. They had formed a small circle, facing one another. Yuma shuffled around EJ to stand closer to Jo, who leaned toward him just a little bit, offering the warmth of his arm against Yuma’s side.
ring around the rosy
cosy
mosey…
His musing was interrupted by EJ.
“What will you be doing for Chuseok?” EJ asked them as they waited. “I leave the day after tomorrow to visit family.” He glanced at Nicholas. “Nico may come with. He hasn’t decided yet.” Nicholas grinned and dipped his head shyly. Their relationship was unknowable, but Yuma suspected there was more going on here than just a tagalong for a family holiday.
He and Jo shrugged in reply to EJ's question. “I want to read,” offered Jo. “But maybe not at home. It’s been a while since I’ve spent an afternoon in a bookstore.”
“Will any be open?” Yuma asked. “Seoul closes down over the holiday.”
Jo shrugged again and opened his mouth to reply, but the soft purr of the approaching taxi interrupted him. They piled in, Nicholas in the front seat and Yuma wedged between EJ and Jo in the back. The two taller men grinned down at him, aware of how he looked with them bookending him, and he laughed.
content
evident
intent
social event
Heh. Not too bad.
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Banter filled the cab, and they were soon deposited at one of the park entrances. Nico looped his arm through EJ’s and waved at the other two men. “We’re going off this direction. Message us if you want to share a taxi back, and if we’re ready to go, we’ll join you.”
Yuma watched them turn as one body, heads immediately dipping toward one another as they talked and laughed while walking away. He looked up at Jo, who was also watching. Jo tore his eyes from their retreating backs and glanced down at him. A soft smile spread across his face, and he nodded again. His hands were in his pockets, and he bent an arm out as an invitation. Yuma gratefully threaded his arm through it, thankful for the warmth. He looked up at Jo, who was still smiling, his head raised to watch the crowd.
“Let’s go that way.” Jo nodded in the direction of a line of coffee carts. “I think you need something to warm you.”
Walking with Jo could sometimes be a struggle for Yuma. Jo’s long legs outpaced him when he wasn’t aware Yuma was trying to catch up. This time, he walked slowly, carefully matching his pace to Yuma’s. It was little considerate things like this which made Yuma feel like he was glowing inside.
friend
blend
tend
boyfri—
He stumbled as the implication of the last word became clear to him. Jo turned in concern, reaching his spare arm out to catch him, should he need it.
“Sorry!” Yuma yelped. “Sorry, just sort of missed a step there.”
What on earth am I thinking? Why that word? Misapprehend! Dividend! Pretend! See? There are lots of others! Dead end! Overspend!
Jo gazed thoughtfully at him for a moment, then stood straight. Without looking again, he reached down to grab Yuma’s hand and carried it in his own to his coat pocket.
Once there, Jo’s fingers gave Yuma’s hand a slight squeeze. “This is better,” he said in his soft, low voice. “Now, if you fall, you’ll take me with you.”
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“What should we do over Chuseok?” Jo asked. They were seated on a bench, hip to hip and hands wrapped around warm paper cups of cocoa. Jo’s was plain; Yuma’s had marshmallows and cinnamon sprinkled on top. They didn’t look at one another, opting to watch the groups of friends, the duets and quartets, threading around one another in the cool night air of the river park.
“You said you wanted to visit a bookstore. Won’t they be closed?” Yuma was still unable to carry on a normal conversation. His brain was sluggish, his hand still burning from where Jo’s long fingers had wrapped around it and held it, hidden in his coat pocket like a secret for the two of them. Alone.
“I found one run by a Japanese family. They plan to be open. They have a reading area in the back. I sometimes go there when I feel homesick.”
Yuma’s head swivelled around to look at him. “You do?” He took a long sip of his cocoa, not trusting himself to stop blurting out, “You could always find me when you’re homesick!” He just sort of mumbled it into the cup, instead.
Jo nodded. “I think,” he said, “it would burden you too much if I came to you every time. I did that a lot when we first moved into the dorm. I’d sit on Fuma’s bed and listen to you talk." He chuckled. "You have a lot of notebooks. I noticed them right away.”
“They’re lyrics. Or, at least, rhymes for lyrics. It’s like a diary. I record my thoughts by making rhy-”
Jo looked over at Yuma, whose voice trailed off. Something in Jo’s expression arrested him. Jo was handsome; it always took Yuma a moment to move beyond that when he looked at his friend. But tonight, Jo wasn't just attractive: Jo was looking at him — into his eyes, heart, and seeing something.
Recognising something?
Had Jo ever looked at him like this before? Yuma had wanted him to. He didn't admit that to himself often. Yuma hadn't been sure if Jo would ever look at him this way. And now, he wasn’t sure of anything except that suddenly, a moment was here. An indefinable moment. A moment without words.
A silent moment in which everything, everything , was said.
Jo reached over and carefully smoothed a thumb across Yuma’s top lip. “You got a little something there.” Yuma licked his lips, brushing over the sticky spot Jo had touched. Marshmallow.
Yuma forgot how to breathe. He couldn’t hear things properly; everything sounded like it was underwater. He’d been cold before, but now it felt like his skin was baked, stretching. His heart lurched and then settled into a steady, fast rhythm. He closed his eyes.
panic
manic
titanic
romantic
Jo was leaning ever so slightly toward him when he opened them again. Dark, steady gaze. Warmth radiating from him, against Yuma’s side, through Yuma.
The dark eyes looking up at the bookshelf. The soft, deep voice. The shy smiles. The long fingers touching his hair. The cool temper, the silent laughter, the unfolding of a soul that stretched, leggily, to take up the empty space in Yuma’s own.
He wasn’t sure when it had happened or how. He only knew the song in his heart, rhymeless, tuneless, but clear and ringing through every nerve.
Yuma smiled and leaned toward Jo, stretching upward and hoping he’d be met halfway.
He closed his eyes again.
reminisce
bliss
at this
kiss
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