Archive of Our Own

In a person’s life there are only the few lucky breed that get to enjoy more than 40% of the time that they are alive, and though it’s a sore subject it is what every person in the tall, picturesque building of such a boring company has come to accept. They each appreciate the wasted potential of the other for the sake of a will to live, and sometimes they even celebrate the unconquerable mundane events of each life with half-hearted geniality. If you were to spend a day there on one floor in one room there is sure to be forced cheerfulness for one person, but on the whole there was not enough pleasure in each young man and young woman’s life to provide energy for the contorted effort of unalloyed companionship. 

We will attempt this, though, for now as we follow one dark head of very gelled hair we too will join in the contorted play of such a life. He files in with a few other people dressed in about the same uniform: a grey suit with white pants and black shoes; some wear ties, some forgo them. They smile politely to each other and bend quickly in formal greeting but they only each know the other vaguely and don’t care much more beyond that. When he enters the elevator and reaches awkwardly past a young woman who cared not to ask the rest which floor they might be headed to, he feels a momentary dread. 

This dread continues, and though it is not outwardly apparent to those around him it is shown in the work that he submits, though this too goes unnoticed, as each worker around him carries that same dread and submits that similar work and only on the aforementioned celebration of mundane events do any of them show any real tact or life in what they produce. Today would be such a day for his manager, and having a close relationship with the floor above them, a kind of thrill came about the young man when he suddenly realized what may happen. His work was done only in large, rushed bouts or not at all for the first 4 hours of his day until the event, which he could not remember what exactly it was. 

Entering the break room he saw now that it was a retirement party, and he felt a sense of shame at his rampant enjoyment of so many people being brought together. He searched about the room and realizing that other departments had not arrived, chatted idly with anyone who cared to humor his careless attempt at conversation and didn’t mind his constant glance at the front door whenever someone entered. A fashionable 10 minutes late was the white soul of his tender admiration. He was not sure if this was reciprocated. They had few interactions and each seemed like an obliging politeness that should take place between employee and their superior, but he could not figure out if he had imagined the lingering stares and the caught glances. It didn’t hurt at all that the man was sturdy and hard-boiled with the most handsome face he’s ever seen. 

Even now he made accidental eye contact that made both look elsewhere. After a casual glance in the direction again he discovered that he had disappeared into the crowd, and he allowed his poor heart to rest a moment from the insistent pounding. Speeches were made, applause was given and hands were shaken but it was very clear that most had only come to get away from their work and perhaps indulge in the pitiful excuse of a cake. As he was handed a piece he looked unconsciously to his left and startled a little to find that ghostly white face not but one step behind him. The pounding began again and he attempted to concentrate very hard on making the tremble of his hands go away. He retreats to the side of his cubicle neighbor and is both elated and terribly distressed when he is followed. 

“Mr. Soonyoung,” begins that sharp mouth. The drowsy eyes look at his face for some sort of recognition and he feels himself go red. 

“Yes?” he accidentally squeaks, and after clearing his throat: “Yes, Manager Lee?” 

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind me asking some things about your manager,” he said coolly. 

He looked in the direction of his desk mate in a futile attempt for help, but was shocked to find that he had been abandoned for a sudden gathering as curious onlookers examined the few given presents. He gulped. 

“Why—of course.” 

They walked nearer toward the wall and he stared at his slab of cake as if it were somehow going to grow legs and run off had he not. The conversation was fairly simple at first, but he looked up rather suddenly when it turned into a clipped apology for boring him. 

“No, that’s quite alright.” 

“I really just wanted to—speak with you.” he said quickly. “As you and your manager seem somewhat close.” 

Soonyoung coughed. “Oh, yes. We sort of grew together in the company. I suppose this means I should plan my leaving.” 

“That’s an awfully sad way to think about it.” he said, and then almost through a yawn: “It’d be a pity if you were to.” 

He was sure he looked a fumbling mess now, but he clamped his mouth shut after a slow, “Thank you.” 

“Do you like your job still? Would you try and take over his?” 

Soonyoung laughed. “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it. I’m quite alright with where I am now, even if it’s a little lifeless.” There was a long pause, but feeling passionate and desperate he asked: “And you?” 

“Well, don’t go on telling anyone but I’m just about the same.” he glanced up at Soonyoung. “But I do like the people here.” 

He saw people here and there begin to depart and deciding he had worked his chest out well enough and would like to be freed from the poise of practiced normalcy in light conversation he abandoned his untouched plate on the nearest table and bowed. “Yes, well, I’m glad to hear that. Good-bye.” 

“Goodbye,” he responded, a little loud. 

Walking from the room and stopping at the end of the hallway he attempted to gather himself, but watching the door again for one last hopeful snatch of him he was surprised to see that the young man came out and was walking in his direction. Walking quickly around the corner he felt ridiculous running from something he knew deep down he wanted so desperately. To his shock a few moments later soft clumps came up behind him and a hand brushed his shoulder. He jumped. 

“I’m sorry! Oh—I just wanted to say,” he hesitated. “I just was wondering, if it didn’t make you uncomfortable—if you wouldn’t mind my speaking to you now and then—” 

Not sure what had come over him he looked about and then waved his hand once in a motion to follow. Walking without looking back he entered a closet filled with cleaning supplies. He felt as if he were dreaming. Moments later there was a small rap at the door, and then the sharp light of the hallway revealed a figure slide in. There was complete darkness but he felt a nervous hand come to his waist, and resting his arms on the shoulders was excited to then feel himself pushed softly against the wall and have hands pulling and grabbing desperately at him. He lost himself in the feeling, and lapping shyly at the tongue that intruded his mouth he was sure this could not be real. There was a passing voice in the hall and they detached quickly, though reluctantly. Opening the door so the light might allow them to see each other he was a little thrilled and embarrassed at how crumpled he looked in comparison. 

“Would you like to come to my place this afternoon?” the man began slowly. 

“Oh—Why—Yes!”  he said, rather eagerly, but when instead of walking away with a smirk his hand was pressed with a smile he felt his heart drop suddenly. “Actually—no.” 

His eyes widened and he frowned. “No?” 

“Well, Manager Lee, a friend of mine once told me that if you like someone, a relationship should develop healthily. So—if you’d allow it, I’d prefer to have dinner first. And then again—and maybe on the third date...” he trailed off. 

“That sounds great,” he responded quickly. 

Soonyoung smiled. “So, no more—grabbing! I sort of lose myself when you do that.” 

“I’m sorry..” he clearly meant this. He released their connected hands and clamped his own behind his back. 

“No, it’s fine,” he practically shouts. “I just want to start off right.” 

“Well, you have so far—with me.” 

The first date was decided for the following Friday’s evening and it could have ultimately been summed up as a large nervous introduction to each other. This would have deterred any other couple from going for another date but as they both knew in the back of their heads just how amorous they were about the other, each lull in the conversation felt so entirely romantic that it brought them nearer. Soonyoung had grown the habit of coughing when he felt too overwhelmed, and Jihoon—the name of the young man that he had been told in a quick rush into a taxi—had grown the habit of brushing his arm whenever he did. They hardly met while working, but each afternoon as he punched out there was a stout man waiting in the lobby to wave to him. You could only imagine that the quality of his work had a dreamy passion in it that was only ever there in his first few months. 

Now during the second date is when the rush of nervous fondness began to subside and they were able to enjoy the finer qualities in one another. They both found an untameable interest in music, which seemed to stem from accompanying outlets. There were promises made that were benign to themselves, but with the added interest of another person made them feel proud and even a little melancholy that they didn’t put more effort into it. This became the larger subject of the evening and deciding he would one day make music, Jihoon seemed wild with emotion as he walked Soonyoung to his door. 

“Well, good-nite.” said Soonyoung. 

Jihoon took a cautious step toward him. “Yes, sleep well.” Soonyoung waited for him to leave, but he stood very determined and hopeless. “Might I just—kiss you once?” 

Soonyoung sighed dreamily. He leaned against the door frame and rested his chin in his palm. “I’d say it would be okay but knowing what I could have and waiting some time for—why, I might just combust.” 

“We could control ourselves.” Jihoon suggested. 

“No, I’d have to,” he said decidedly. “And when I get you in my arms, who's to say what will happen.” 

Jihoon smiled. “I might have a little self control.” 

“Neither of us really seem like the type.” 

That night he got hardly any rest. He spent the moonlit hours imagining ways they might naturally come to a kiss, and eventually planning it out entirely he hoped that Jihoon was doing the same. When he began thinking of those hands that had once felt at him so desperately his eyes became drowsy with desire and he drifted into a deep, dreamless sleep. 

A rainy, gloomy afternoon Soonyoung found himself departing a bus on a street he had never been with nothing but a scribbled address and a code. He entered the building, and pressing in the numbers with a thrill, was buzzed in. They took a table at a nearby cafe just two days earlier and discussed the plans of their fervidly awaited third date. Soonyoung had been blushing the entire time and Jihoon seemed unable to hold eye contact for no longer than a minute. Feeling a rush of sentiment and bravery he suggested they skip the theatrics and head straight to Jihoon’s place. 

Now that he was climbing the stairs to said place he cursed that version of himself. They were the careless words of the man he once was and had momentarily become but now he realized that he was out of his realm and doubted any of the rash, fresh acts of his college days could help him in a situation so foreign. He stood in front of the door too nervous to announce himself, but too exhilarated to leave. Eventually he knocked softly. Fearing this was not enough he rang the doorbell, but not hearing it from inside he pressed several times just in case it might not be broken. 

“Soonyoung!” he heard from inside, which made him snicker. The door was opened and he was surprised to see Jihoon dressed in such formal attire. He felt a little inferior in comparison, having worn his most comfortable clothes that were most likely considered pajamas, but wanting to keep the mood light he said, in a high-pitched sing-song: 

“Hello,” and as he entered, “I’m the maid you hired.” 

Jihoon failed to compress a large smile. “Oh, of course. It’s these shelves here that I just can’t get clean.” 

Soonyoung swayed past him and moved his fist from side to side in front of the shelves as if he were holding a phantom duster. He stuck out a finger and purposefully knocked down a figurine, but feigning a gasp he noticed Jihoon watch with increasing interest as he swayed his hips while picking it up. Crossing the room he sat next to Jihoon on the couch so there was no space between them. 

“Why, I’m terribly exhausted. I’ll take my pay and be off.” 

Jihoon felt in his pockets a moment and slapped his knee when he came up with the expected nothing. “It seems I’ve misplaced my wallet.” 

“Well…” Soonyoung leaned his face closer and twisted his mouth ever so upward. “I wouldn’t mind another form of payment—from a man like yourself.” 

Jihoon pulled Soonyoung on top of him and arranged him so they sat facing each other. He tapped his chin in thought. “What might you have in mind?” 

Soonyoung was startled by the suddeness of it all, and glowed a faint pink as he answered. “Just a little sugar to start us off…” 

Jihoon kissed him in such a way that he felt half-delirious, and he was embarrassed at how eagerly his body responded. He felt firm hands squeeze his thighs but before he could enjoy it in full the doorbell rang. 

“Oh, that’s the food.” 

Soonyoung’s face puffed in annoyance at having been interrupted. He moved to the table with the huff of a child who’d lost a turn at a toy they wanted desperately out of spite. Bringing the food over Jihoon pressed his lips to Soonyoung’s head. 

“We have all night. Don’t let our food stop you.” 

“I won’t,” he responded rather sulkily. 

They ate in a comfortable silence, though Soonyoung’s was only practiced and once when Jihoon reached over to press his hand he nearly jumped from his skin. When he was asked about it he waved away any worry. Trying a different approach Jihoon began timorously asking about previous relationships, prefacing it with the ability to deny answering. After much beating around the bush it was revealed that Soonyoung had never been with a man, and seemingly unphased, Jihoon encouraged him to ask as many questions as he’d like. With that familiar feeling of tender curiosity they sat speaking for another half hour. 

After eating, cleaning, and a demonstration on a digital piano, as promised, in which Soonyoung sat entirely in his lap, they had an embarrassed, clipped conversation on what to do next. Through lots of uhms, ohs, and other one word responses they were to each prepare. Soonyoung paced the bedroom floor after setting down his bag. Just as he decidedly removed his pants Jihoon entered and smiled at him. He had only wet his hair to remove the gel that was keeping its short length slick against his head and changed into clothes that were similar to Soonyoung’s. Soonyoung was embarrassed. 

“All set?” Jihoon asked. 

He nodded his head slowly and when Jihoon knelt on the bed he asked in a low voice: “Shall we continue where we left off?” 

Soonyoung felt a sudden kick of arousal at the thought and opened his arms for jihoon to crawl into. Jihoon kissed his mouth gently and looked down at him for a moment. 

“What?” Soonyoung demanded. 

“Are you nervous?”

Soonyoung ducked his head. His heart cage had been beating rapidly against his rib cage. 

Jihoon settled comfortably next to him. “Well, I’m sort of taking your virginity again. It’s rather sane to be nervous.” 

Soonyoung coughed. “I’ve had sex so many times I’d never imagine that I’d feel like this again.” 

“My first time was awfully boring,” Jihoon said suddenly. 

Soonyoung laughed. “How?” 

“I’d been 23, but I had done so much prep and used so many toys previous I set my expectations high. I should have expected it from a one off meeting with a guy at the bar but he’d only cared about getting his own release.” 

“So what happened?” 

“We walked to a hotel and he jerked off while I fingered myself. It lasted about 4 minutes from when he put it in. It was so inconsiderate, sex is your purest form, it should never be done so carelessly.” 

“What happened after that?” 

“He had rented the room for the whole night and suggested I stay around so maybe some time later I could suck him off. I clipped him in the chin from pure anger and left him there.” 

Soonyoung imagined the scene in his head and smiled. “Seems like something you’d do.” he said somewhat drowsily. “We can go very slow.”  

Jihoon leaned over to kiss him again and noticed how much he had relaxed in his hold. Again was that same passion of before but now only stronger. Soonyoung felt a little stiff and awkward at first, but Jihoon proved to have a very eager and forgiving mouth, and the room grew noticeably warm to Soonyoung. He gently pushed Jihoon off of him. 

“Is something wrong?” he asked quietly, glancing down to make sure he hadn’t been crushing Soonyoung somehow. 

“I need my shirt off,” he said quickly. 

Jihoon laughed. When Soonyoung had lied back down Jihoon touched all over him and he felt the moans that he compressed combine into a black cloud of arousal in his chest. Jihoon sucked particularly hard on his tongue and he’d spent a great deal of effort containing his whimper. 

“Why are you so shy?” 

Soonyoung was glad that the only source of light was the moonshine that came through the window. “I’ve never moaned so much… It’s embarrassing.” 

“Should I be flattered?” he said through a smile.

Soonyoung crumpled his face in playful annoyance, but realizing this could not be seen, he hit Jihoon’s back lightly. “Shut up.” 

It was barely ten minutes of this continued foreplay that Soonyoung found himself breathless and completely hard. It was amazing to him that with such little effort he’d been driven half-crazy. He was too embarrassed to say anything when he felt himself just about ready to come. He stopped the hand that was rubbing where his thigh and groin met. 

“Is something the matter?” 

He blushed crimson. “I’m—really close.” 

Jihoon’s eyes widened in surprise, even in the low light Soonyoung could tell. “Really? Well, that’s quite alright.” He kissed him square on the mouth. “How would you like to cum?” 

As though there was a sun that only he could feel, he went impossibly redder. He wasn’t sure if speaking like this was just so unfamiliar or if the entirety of the situation made him a sudden prudish virgin all over again.”Uhm—however—is fine.” 

Jihoon sat on his heels. “You’re really sensitive so I want to try something, but tell me right away if you don’t like it.” He waited for Soonyoung to agree and then had him turn around on his stomach. He wasn’t sure what could happen in such a precarious situation where they were both only half naked. He waited in wild anticipation and was entirely satisfied when Jihoon pushed his legs open a little wider and lined his pelvis snug between. Wanting to help Soonyoung pushed his up, but unsuspecting to the sensation that would following he gasped loudly when Jihoon brushed right up against him in one slow, hard stroke. His apparent enjoyment was cause for this to continue, and burying his face in a pillow he tried to his any curious noise that escaped him. 

“Is it okay?” Jihoon asked, his voice a little husky from all the effort. 

Soonyoung lifted his head to answer, but Jihoon grabbed one hip to pull him higher and his head fell back into the pillow with an odd squeak. It turned into a series of bounces in that same spot, and enjoying it so intensely he didn’t even notice Jihoon’s hand that made its way into his briefs. The moment he wrapped his hand around Soonyoung’s groin it was over. 

“I’m sorry,” Soonyoung half whispered. 

Jihoon turned from where he had been changing, upon Soonyoung’s request. “Why—what on Earth for?” 

“I don’t know… being so.. prudish. Maybe a little easy.” 

Jihoon let out a little one syllable laugh, but seeing how serious he was, joined him in the bed and took Soonyoung’s hand in between his. “You don’t need to apologize for anything. Really, you’re the best I’ve known in quite some time.” 

He avoided the strong, serious gaze that followed this. “Al-right.” And after a moment: “Thank you.” 

“You precious little doll!” Jihoon exclaimed, then kissed his face multiple times. “As long as you tell me what you’d like and what you wouldn’t, I couldn’t ask for a better lover.” 

It felt too much for Soonyoung. He’d never been taken care of so entirely. Usually it was he who said words he only half meant to a woman that only half cared. He nodded once and lied the other way. He felt infinitely sorry but hoped that Jihoon would understand. 

The following morning Soonyoung woke early and turned to stare at Jihoon’s resting face. When he looked at him there was still that nervous thrill he felt all through his body but especially in his heart. He had expected for the shine to wear after they spent a night together, as depressing as he knew that had sounded, but he was a little anxious and very happy to know that it hadn’t. He felt around underneath the blanket until he reached Jihoon and discovered his arms to be folded. This made him smile, and though he was still finding it difficult to imagine them together, he decided he would cherish knowing such a thing about him. 

An hour later, of which Soonyoung took to doze here and think of what to address there, Jihoon opened his eyes. Soonyoung smiled timidly at him. He leaned over to kiss the corner of his mouth. He said no words, only carefully got up from the bed and went into what Soonyoung vaguely remembered to be the bathroom. He waited almost frozen in unnecessary apprehension as he heard the sound of the shower, then of brushing teeth, and finally footsteps. He seemed surprised that Soonyoung had not moved. 

“Are you still drowsy? I can wake you whenever you might need to leave.” 

Soonyoung sat up. “I want to—I’d like to eat.” 

Jihoon nodded. With an almost imperceptible hand on his lower back, Soonyoung was shown to the bathroom. Both dressed and ready, Jihoon led him to a diner just down the road. It was clear that this area was not populated by the younger crowd, there were hardly any people in the street and the few they did pass were old women taking careless strolls or helmeted workers roaring by on motorcycles. The diner was almost entirely empty, but the waitress knew Jihoon well and greeted him informally as they were seated. 

“Are you feeling alright?” Jihoon asked when they walked off.

“Quite—” he said, and then coughed. 

This was where the conversation died, and having many things he planned to say but no courage to bring up any, he squirmed in his seat. Finally when their food had arrived he decided to say something more. 

“Was it alright? For you?” he blushed, then gulped, and finally coughed. 

Jihoon glanced around. “Of course. Did I not say so? Soonyoung, it was wonderful.” 

At the mention of his name the reality of the situation fell on him like a ton of bricks. He began wracking his mind, wondering how he even came to be in this situation. Jihoon commented on the things around them, the items on the menu, even the waitress, but not once did he mention the nature of their relationship. Soonyoung interrupted him, a little desperately. 

“And—what now?” Having no prelude to this he was not sure of the context. When he asked for clarification, Soonyoung only repeated himself. 

“Soonyoung, doll, you have to give me a little more than that.” 

“I mean—was it all just ultimately for this?” 

He frowned. “I’d rather hope not. If you don’t mind my asking—what would you like me to consider you?” 

Now it was Soonyoung who was confused. “What?” 

“As my..” he trailed off, allowing Soonyoung to finish. 

He left money for his portion. “I’m not sure—I’m not sure.” 

“I’d hope you’d like to date as much as I.” he offered, but feeling as though he said something wrong: “I can understand if, perhaps, not. But I think it would be only healthy if we were to—but of course, I understand.” 

“I’m n—I’m sorry,” he said, then stood to leave. “I’ll call you.” 

He was not sure what exactly made him so hesitant about a relationship so seemingly perfect. Each night for the next week he sat at the phone but could not bring himself to press in the numbers. Feeling so utterly defeated he momentarily pushed the blame onto Jihoon. How could he go so long without calling? Really, if he cared so much he would have done so already. He knew it was an awful thing to think, but he found some solace in this selfish mindset. He could not even know if Jihoon was waiting to say goodbye to him after work, as he would get off early or leave through the back door just to avoid him. He had trapped himself in an open cage and stood behind the bars blaming everyone else for keeping him there.

After a nervous afternoon that he kept busy with exercise and dance, he decided today he would do it. He spent a thoughtless half hour on the treadmill and decided that if he can’t do it now then he would have to break it off entirely. Being stuck in such a self inflicted conundrum where he was quite literally running in place he figured it was only right. He swallowed a large lump in his throat and waited as the phone rang. 

“Hello?” he heard come casually from the other end. 

“Yes,” he said, and then coughed. “Hello.” 

“Soonyoung?” 

“Hello—Hello,” he repeated, afraid he might not be heard.

“Yes, hello,” he laughed. “How are you?” 

“Fine—” he said slowly. “And you?” 

“I was just thinking of you. Oh, it’s the funniest thing. I know you’ve only been once but that figure that you knocked over, somehow it had gone missing. I spent half the evening looking for it and I had hidden it from myself by setting it in a drawer.” When there was no response, he said: “Must not have been that funny..” 

Soonyoung smiled, but it was tight and unfamiliar. “It was a nice story, it’s just—Well I’d like to apologize.” 

“You’re always doing that.” he mentioned. 

“Yes, well, I’m sorry,” he said quickly. 

“For what?”

“I’ve been—odd. And really just horrible to you—in ways you don’t even know.” he felt a cloud of gloom come over his heart. “Really, I would love to see you sometime soon. To make it up.” 

“I think that’d be nice.” 

“Thank you,” he said quietly. 

The conversation continued in a strained sort of way that Soonyoung hoped he was adapting to. They spoke of nothing in particular and yet each thing seemed to make his heart grow a little fonder. By the end of it he was suggesting they do it again tomorrow, and maybe the day after as well. When he agreed timidly to the suggestion of everyday, the call ended with an impassioned exclamation of, “Why, you perfect little doll..! Good-nite.” 

The next evening he went right up to Jihoon in the lobby and they went together on a walk toward a park nearby. They went in complete silence, and Soonyoung enjoyed the fact that Jihoon knew when to speak and when few words were enough. They sat at a bench that was in direct sunlight. The tall trees shaded the rest of the area in a way that if he concentrated hard enough he could have made everything around them fall away. He did, and feeling like it was just them in the world he began with feverous avidity. 

“It’s my fault—I know—but why didn’t you at least try to call me?” 

“I figured you hadn’t liked me. It was disheartening but I’d rather not seem desperate, no matter how much I had been.” 

The way he referenced it in the past tense made Soonyoung dejected, but he continued. “Well, I think I like you quite a lot.” he glanced over to Jihoon and their eyes met. “It’s just a little hard for me is all.” Jihoon nodded, and he continued. “So for now I’d rather be nothing—to you—but only until I’m ready to be everything.” 

Jihoon leaned closer so their shoulders touched. He made no answer and Soonyoung was alright with that. He was asking for a lot from someone that offered him more than enough. The world fell back into place and he suggested they go on a walk. For the rest of the evening they ended up in little shops around the area and a restaurant that they both ended up hating, but laughed about this shared hatred. Loathing the idea of separating Soonyoung, with no aversion, had followed him home, and sitting together in front of the piano he was given an hour’s private lesson. Playing part of a song on his own at the end delighted him so that he played it over and over until he realized that it was well past midnight, and the trains had stopped. 

“I’ll have to try and catch a cab,” he said in a panic, collecting his things. “Oh, I hadn’t even noticed the time.” 

Jihoon did up the buttons of his coat as he tied his scarf. “You could—” and after a long hesitation: “You could call one up. I think I know the number.” 

When one was called for and expected in the next few minutes that great reluctance to depart came back, and liking Jihoon more than he ever had in the past few months he wrapped his arms about his shoulders and brought his face down for a restless kiss. When they separated, he was pushed from the door, and walking to the steps he yelled, “Next time, I’m going to stay!” behind himself. He made his way home in the frosty moonlite with the warm air of romance to keep him comfortable. 

As frightened as he was by the thought of labeling their continued rendezvous it seemed impossible to keep from Jihoon’s side. The “next time” might not have happened—due mostly to a conflict of schedule and a sudden visiting of Jihoon’s relatives—but each day they saw each other no less than twenty minutes. Having an aversion to any glances they may render now that they had begun taking lunch together every day, he found a nice spot in a rarely used conference room. Free to allow themselves the unrestrained luxury of puppy love, the nervous conversation of their days quickly became easy conversation and even eventual gossip. 

Once Soonyoung left the utensils for his meal at home, and without much thought Jihoon reached over and fed him the food with his own. Blushing wildly, Soonyoung thanked him, and agreed shyly to let it continue. At an off-handed joke of “being such a good eater” he laughed along in a haggard and forced way. Unbeknownst to the both he had enjoyed it a little too much, and afterward, racing back to his desk with the front of his blazer pulled intentionally further down he sat unmoving with a staining blush for half an hour. 

They met in the lobby afterward and a silent agreement brought them to Jihoon’s house, sighing and embracing upon the couch with hardly a hat removed. They had only just successfully undone the buttons on one garment when the phone began to ring. Letting it be for the first two, Jihoon gave a deep, promising kiss as he got up to answer the third. After a few minutes of conversation his eyes widened and he began fixing himself frantically. Entirely confused, Soonyoung slowly did the same. Hanging up the phone without saying goodbye he sorted the pile of discarded items around them and explained that his aunt and father were headed home earlier than he was expecting, set to arrive in fifteen minutes. 

As a way to make up for this unexpected invasion by his family Jihoon called up Soonyoung early that next morning and asked him to wait in the lobby for a special dine-in lunch. It was a chill and sorrowful autumn evening and Soonyoung found that to be perfectly romantic. The leaves were now all changed in color and lush upon the trees. They were still in that very beautiful and healthy state that comes from all the rain that helps bring in the cool air and eventually the light snow. 

The elevator dinged and the door opened to reveal the ghostly, handsome face that he went to sleep thinking about and woke from dreams of. When it opened further it revealed the rouge face of a tall woman that was very obviously interested in him. Jihoon nodded abstractly to what she was talking about and took a small pile of papers that she practically shoved into his hand. Soonyoung had only seen her a few times by coincidence on the elevator yet now he could see every interaction proving her to be very unaware and even a little common. They walked a little nearer and Soonyoung relaxed into his seat to give the effect that he was perfectly bored but still effortlessly poised. 

He heard Jihoon say: “Oh–excuse me,” followed by hurried steps in his direction, and a feminine voice responded—rather pitifully, he thought—”Of course.” 

“Did you wait long?” Jihoon asked him. 

Soonyoung looked at him casually, but his voice had difficulty concealing his elation. “Just a few minutes or so.” 

Jihoon watched him very closely as he stood, and then walking together toward the doors he said, frantically, “Would you be fine meeting—-my brother? Just as friends, if you’d like.” he emphasized the last part as if it were the main point. 

“Well—When?” he demanded, more scared than elated. 

Jihoon hesitated, then smiled at him. “Now. For lunch?” 

“I don’t see why not..” This was a very honest answer, and he hoped that it didn’t seem rude. He liked Jihoon more than anyone he’d ever had a relationship with and things had been going so well he was convinced he had enough sentimentalism in his heart to agree to marriage. The entirety of the situation still frightened him to no end but he found it more beneficial and, frankly, enjoyable to throw himself into it rather than skirting along the edges in cautious wonder. 

Jihoon held the door for him as they walked out. “See here, he’s not my biological brother, of course, just a friend so close I’ve come to consider him one.” 

“That’s nice,” Soonyoung commented, too lost in his own thoughts. 

A taxi was hailed and Jihoon opened that door for him as well. “We’re quite close, you see. So I tell him very personal things.” 

“Of course,” Soonyoung said pleasantly. 

Jihoon reached over to press his hand. “What I’m trying to say is, I’ve told him of you—us.” 

Soonyoung glanced over at Jihoon and then their connected hands. He considered. “You said before we could go as just friends.” 

“We can!” He said quickly. “I told him we aren’t official. He promised not to ask anything about it.”

Soonyoung suddenly felt nervous. “How does he take it?” 

“Take what?”

“Me refusing your offer of a relationship.”

Jihoon pats Soonyoung’s hand between his mindlessly. “Oh, he thinks it’s a sort of mutual on the fence thing.” 

“D’you think he dislikes me for it? Oh, he must be so worried for his brother. He must be worried I’m of the worst kind.” 

Jihoon laughs. “If he thought that I’d’ve beat him to a pulp.” 

Soonyoung blushes. 

They arrive shortly in front of a nice high-end diner. As they enter Jihoon is almost instantly rushed by a tall man with large, broad shoulders and the general essence of those cute, brown cows with a wild head of hair. Struggling in the grip for half a minute and then being released, Jihoon only grumbles a “He-lo,” until he is practically forgotten and pushed aside. 

 “And you must be Soonyoung!” He says in a voice that is perfect for his face. Gentle and masculine. 

Soonyoung nods politely. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Of course,” he says through a smile that was mostly gums. “Choi Seungcheol. May I..?” 

Soonyoung glanced at his timidly outstretched hands and laughed. “Sure!” 

When they separate Jihoon’s face is clearly sour with distaste and he puts himself between the two. Soonyoung now realized that what they lacked in physical similarities they made up for in almost familial disposition. They embraced in the sweet, forceful way that brothers usually do and constantly they had those subtle digs and bickerings that are only possible in a relationship incredibly strong. They took a booth near the window. 

“Well—How d’you do?” Soonyoung began awkwardly. It was always a little hard to match the energy of such a relationship. 

“Mighty fine,” Seungcheol responded. There was something about his eyes that made it seem like you were the only person in the world when he looked at you. To a random bystander you might even think him to be in love. “And what about you?” 

Soonyoung blushed under such an emotional gaze. “Same here, thank you.” 

Jihoon noticed and intervened. “And I’m just great, thank you.” 

Here now began more of the bickering, and only when the waitress came did it stop. They answered what they would like and agreed on sharing a dessert afterward, as if they were the most agreeable pair in the world. Soonyoung let Jihoon decide for him. 

“You must know each other quite well,” Seungcheol began, then glanced between the both, testing the waters. “How did you meet?” 

As if a game of roulette, his large doe eyes, after jumping back and forth, landed on Soonyoung, and he felt obliged to answer. “I think the first time was about a year ago. Jihoon is good friends with my—now old—manager and we were introduced while I was being trained. The most I heard from him was ‘I’m fine,’ for the better part of three months. Then one day I got extremely lost looking for someone in his department. Mine is two floors down and we all share a large space. They had individual offices with no more than three people in each.” 

Jihoon interrupted, a little defensive. “And it’s more productive that way. Though I suppose it did make it hell for you. In the end we went on a goose hunt together, only to find out that they were out sick.” He stopped a moment so Seungcheol could make a noise of interest and Soonyoung could laugh obligingly. “From then we only met in passing, but I found it brightened my day to see him.” 

Soonyoung glanced at him. “And I was anxious any time I knew he was near. I thought he’d hated me for that, and his clipped responses always threw me for a loop. Once I had asked if he liked donuts and he said no and walked off so quickly it made my head spin.” 

They all laughed. The food arrived and it then became Seungcheol’s turn to tell embarrassing stories from when they were younger. How they met in high school, how they drank together for the first time, how they silently cried together when Jihoon was off to a smarty-pants school in another city for the four years after and he never forgave himself for the missed time. It became so touching and apparent that they knew and loved each other such a large amount that at some point Soonyoung himself removed the idea that they were not blood-related from his head entirely.

The hour passed by in a way that they knew the time had not gone to waste, but if only they had gotten there quicker there might have been more of it. Getting up to pay they discovered that Seungcheol had done so well before they got here, and so pleased with this Soonyoung hugged him timidly as their taxi pulled up to the curb. Promises to make it up to him were made and a vague day on a vague week was set. They returned to the office and went to work but each was a little happier than before and glanced constantly at the clock. At the end of the day they met and went on a stroll. 

“And what did you think of him?” 

“He’s nice. I see why you wanted me to meet him.” 

“That’s all?” 

“Well, it was just the one time,” he said, and then added: “And I don’t want to make you jealous.” 

“Hardly am I ever,” Jihoon reached for his hand, and Soonyoung let him take it. “But maybe I’d rather not hear it.” 

It was only natural that they would end up again at his apartment, mostly just glad to be near each other and expressing their infinite awe. When the clock hit half past ten it was clear to both that this should be the time he leave if he wanted to make it home at a reasonable hour. Standing by the door he reluctantly put one arm in his coat, after a useless conversation about the weather he put in the other, and practically refusing to button it, Jihoon understood very clearly what was happening. 

“Would you rather—stay?” 

The coat was shed instantly. Soonyoung whispered “Oh—yes,yes!” into Jihoon’s shoulder and together they tumbled back onto the sofa in a lump. They began a kiss that lasted so long it was as if they had always been that way, in the same way that the moon was always there, haunting and beautiful and white. Soonyoung could only describe it as their most passionate embrace, yet though it lasted a dreamy hour he felt no sexual arousal. This surprised even him, but when they separated and Jihoon smiled up at him he realized–in slight terror–that this was love. 

To calm his nerves Soonyoung convinced Jihoon it would be better if they stayed just like that, though they shifted constantly so as not to be crushing the other or to awaken a limb that had fallen asleep. It was awkward and most likely annoying but Jihoon did not argue with him on it once. When they had found a position relatively comfortable it became easy to nod off. 

The next morning Soonyoung woke with a terrible crick in his neck but this went hardly noticed. From the start of a very blue and somewhat frightening dusk until the bright white of the 9’o clock sun the only thing that ran through Soonyoung’s head was love, love love.There was nothing he could do to make it go away. Having an arm around a man so wonderful and forgiving he felt that if he thought about it too hard the blood would rush straight to his heart and grow so large it’d pop. When his leg began to tingle he decided to wake him.

“Hel-lo,” Jihoon said slowly, eyes still closed. 

“What time is it?” 

Jihoon stood and haphazardly made his way to the kitchen where there was a clock hidden just behind a cabinet from where they sat. 

“A little past ten, I’m afraid.” He came back. “Do you have to work?” 

“In the afternoon,” he responded. “I suppose I could go back home and change.” 

“I’ve got to run but let’s meet for lunch still.” 

He bent over the couch and kissed him once, twice, three times. That feeling of his heart growing twice its size came back and he lay there long after Jihoon had left. When he did leave there was no point in going back home, and patting down his hair he hoped nobody would notice that he and Jihoon had been wearing the same clothes as the day before. All through the day he was languid and a little worried. When they met in the lobby for lunch he decided that a public place would be better, and they took a table in the lunch hall that was empty and fairly quiet. They said very little but were very happy.

Half way through lunch Jihoon was called away. His eyes were apologetic but the matter only became worse when Soonyoung saw that it was to join a small group that included the woman from before. Now that he looked at her with eyes momentarily green he was sure that she was pretty as a button. The way she carried herself was much like Jihoon did; shoulders always back and chin always high. He couldn’t help thinking how they might’ve made the perfect couple. 

His work had gone back to that all consuming depressive product of sub-par quality. At one point he himself had noticed the life in which it had been reborn and was quite proud, but he found the lack of tact in anyone else’s annoying and realized that there was no point in continuing in the end. How much should he care to do well if he and everyone else was able to skirt by on very little. He attempted to speak to his desk mate about this, but after a long ten minutes in which most their sentences began with “Well, you see—” he became uninterested in the topic and was a little sad that he now compared most every aspect of his life with any adjacent scene that had taken place with Jihoon. 

When they met in the lobby afterward he was happy to see him but wanted time alone to figure things out. He did not tell him this, and instead explained the ghost of plans that were entirely made up on the spot. He knew his depressed attitude had caused one of two effects; made them easily transparent or as though he were only going reluctantly—out of spite. None of this mattered when he sat on the subway, already headed home. Feeling suddenly inspired to raise his spirits he decided to head back out. 

Enjoying the smell of the stiff air and then less so the air of free perspiring he found that dancing was just what he needed. He moved his body about wildly until it could hardly hold his weight, then after an hour's rest he joined an instructor-led class. It was difficult, and he went through a cycle of being immensely frustrated, then convinced himself that he was putting too much pressure on himself to perform. Toward the end of the class he decided he would call it early, and as he was putting together his bag someone appeared next to him suddenly. 

“Hello,” they said casually, as if they had known each other for quite some time. 

“Hello.” 

“Is something the matter?” 

Soonyoung started. “What?” 

“There seems to be something wrong.” 

“How could you possibly have—”

“You haven’t gotten much any of the choreography right,” he interrupted. “So there’s surely something wrong.” 

This made Soonyoung blush, then he turned to a terrible temper. He stood at height and was about to give the man what for, but looking at him in full he could tell there was no malicious intent, and his face rather gave the innocent impression that you felt when looking at a child’s book. Even if you hadn’t read it growing up you knew that it was special to somebody, and that was enough. He crumpled rather than sat back down. 

“Well, it’s just that I’ve—fallen in love. And it’s seemed to make everything sort of terrible.” He only received a sagely nod in return, and decided to continue. “I don’t know what it is but something about it.. About love… it shocks you half to death—then you end up unable to live without it. Just now I was thinking about how this might’ve been more fun had he come along. Even just to watch—! Pitiful, isn’t it?” 

The young man crouched down so they were level. “But really—is that not what makes love howling? Would it be so terrible for you to see them walk through the door? Or would it be like a dream? Is it pitiful that you don’t want to dance until you’ve heard a song that strikes something in you? I’d say it rather beautiful.” He stood easily, and completely unaware that he had stirred something within Soonyoung, he finished with a noncommittal: “Well—” then shrugged and walked off. 

He thought about this the entire way home. The advice was so plain yet he had not considered it, so trapped in his ways. He wondered now the best way to tell Jihoon, if it even mattered to tell him at all. Dressing in pajamas after a languid shower the phone rang, and his heart beat rapidly. He answered quickly. It was Jihoon. 

“How are you feeling? I’m glad I could reach you.” 

He wondered if it would be too rash to say it now. “I—” he began, but decided against it. “I’m just great. Maybe even wonderful.” 

“I was wondering if you’d like to spend the evening together tomorrow. I know I’ll see you at work, but, you see, I’m going out of town for a while—because of the holidays. So I’ll be busy all week.” 

“Oh—” Soonyoung said quietly. “Well, yes, let’s.” 

“I just wanted you to know first.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Of course, doll.” 

There was a long silence now. It was stiff and nerve-wracking, but it seemed so loud it could have shattered glass. It was the kind of silence that was meant only to be filled with that simple phrase. After a while Soonyoung broke it instead with: 

“I’ll see you then.” 

Luck seemed on their side the entire day. The elevator Soonyoung rode was held for a minute and rushing in came Jihoon. They greeted each other formally but stood very close and when he got off he felt the ghost of a hand reach out to brush his own. Then, about two hours later as he was waiting for papers to print out he glanced out into the hall, and doing a double take he saw the fervorous peruse of two dark eyes that he knew very well. When they landed on him it was clear that some passionate daze had brought Jihoon out expressly to see him. Another person that had been sorting through their own finished copies bowed at Jihoon and quickly left. 

“Hello,” Soonyoung said in a gasp. “Manager Lee.” 

“Hello—Mr. Soonyoung.” 

“Is there something you need?” 

“Not particularly. I was just coming to hand some things over—just in preparation.” 

“That’s nice,” Soonyoung said dumbly. His eyes were now drooped coily and he blinked in a lovely sort of way when Jihoon came a little closer. 

“Hm,” he responded. “And you..?” This made no sense. He had meant to ask what he was doing but the words died on his tongue when he found they were faced away from the door and the action of putting his hand on Soonyoung’s lower back was hidden by the machine. They seemed now to only speak through warm, dry eyes and the effulgent sunlight that seeped through the half open shades. Soonyoung glanced over to him. The sun got a little brighter. His hand fell down a little and pat there firmly. Soonyoung did a sort of rough sigh and moved closer so it might happen again. When it did he gulped audibly and, forgetting completely about his work, pulled impatiently at the front of Jihoon’s jacket until it happened constantly along with short caresses that turned into a fixed pattern of each. 

Deciding it to be enough after a fashion Jihoon clamped his hands behind his back and moved away. “Goodbye,” he all but whispered. 

To show his gratitude Soonyoung fluttered his eyes and glanced through his lashes like one might imagine a flower looks when blooming in the sun. 

It was during lunch that the day soured. Jihoon was waiting for him just outside the elevators and they made their way to their abandoned office very quickly. Arranging the desk to be just in front of the couch, Jihoon drew the blinds that allowed passersby to look in and locked the door. After some convincing Soonyoung allowed himself to be fed, but only half aware to what Jihoon was scheming he found the entire scene nearly pornographic. He would be offered a bite, swallow, and waiting for another he would be given lowly exclaimed praise similar to “What a wonderful little doll!” or “How absolutely per-fect!” When he became so red it was difficult to swallow, the food was abandoned, and the next thing he knew there were hands on his thighs and a tongue attempting to map every inch of his mouth. Just when he had guided the hands to crawl further between his legs all at once it stopped. 

Jihoon looked down at him with a vaguely confused expression. “Wait–” he said, and sitting back he thought for a quick moment, said “Oh–!” and after bringing his face over to Soonyoung’s he began to move things back the way they were. “I completely forgot. Oh, I’ve got to tear. I forgot I agreed to a meeting with YongSun.” 

“Who–?” he demanded feebly, still aroused and confused. 

“You might’ve seen her before—I had to run to that meeting with her the last time we lunched in the cafeteria.”  

Dread fell over Soonyoung like a bucket of water. It all seemed so glib. In the midst of their most blatant seductive intimacy he had suddenly remembered—that woman. He waved Jihoon away and only half smiled when he promised to continue later in the evening. He had no problem being left like he was in any other circumstance but knowing who it was for all throughout the day he felt an irrepressible rage within his heart and found that he clenched his jaw in moments of carelessness. By the time they were set to meet the sky had taken a greyish blue hue with no apparent moon. He felt inconsolably upset. 

They spoke very little on the journey, which Jihoon did not seem to mind. When they entered and he answered in very clipped sentences Jihoon seemed to take this moreso as nerves and the topic went undiscussed, then momentarily forgotten. They were sat in front of the piano and Soonyoung had been metaphorically swept off his feet by a performance of a sonata that Jihoon had been working on just for him. Explaining that he wanted to make something for Soonyoung to dance to he thought of the conversation with the stranger he had before and became incredibly moved. In a blur they ended up with few clothes underneath the blanket, but when the phone rang the dread came back and Soonyoung excused himself to the bathroom. Coming back he sat timidly at the edge of the bed and did not reciprocate Jihoon’s smile. 

He sat up. “Is there anything wrong?” 

Soonyoung swallowed around a large lump of embarrassment and jealousy. “There isn’t anyone else you’re interested in?” 

“What?” he demanded incredulously. 

“Someone else you may also—be interested in,” and feeling suddenly emotional he added: “Someone at the office?” 

In place of responding Jihoon stood and began to redress, handing Soonyoung his own clothes to encourage him to do the same. Sitting half dressed and very confused, Soonyoung joined him later at the table. When he sat down Jihoon spoke. 

“Soonyoung, what on Earth are you talking about?” 

He hesitated, but Jihoon’s concerned eyes and tight mouth were comforting. “I just see you with that woman—so often.” This was an exaggeration. “And she seems perfectly in love.” 

Jihoon sighed. “That’s all that this is about?” Soonyoung nodded. “Well, I hope you’re happy to know that I’m not attracted to her. I’m not attracted to women—at all.” He laughed through his nose. “Was this not apparent?” 

Soonyoung was elated and embarrassed. “I’m sorry—No, I assumed—Oh, I’m sorry.” 

He moved his chair closer and brought his face toward Soonyoung’s, proffering a kiss. Soonyoung quickly closed the gap. “Soonyoung, would you like to—date me? I mean—be my boyfriend?” He found these both ineffective. “Would you allow me to call you mine?” 

He gasped. “Why, of course!” He had now ended up in Jihoon’s lap and they were pressing their cheeks together, both delirious with joy. He thought to himself it’d be better time than any to confess his love, but remembering that Jihoon was going to leave him for nearly 6 weeks his attitude changed entirely. “But won’t it be a little sad to start off like that? With separation?” 

Jihoon looked up at him. “No, no. I’ll call you everyday. And isn’t there something about it making you grow a little fonder?” 

Soonyoung wasn’t convinced. “That may be—but it just seems so sad. You get to tell the world but the proof is two hundred miles away.” 

“The proof—the proof is right there in our hearts.” 

“Well, maybe so. But you shouldn’t be thinking about me much at all, you should be enjoying the time with your family.” 

“Soonyoung—” 

“I don’t want to hear anything more about it!” he interrupted childishly. “I like you more than anyone ever did, I’m sure of it, but I think it might be better to wait just a little longer. Only until after you come back.” 

They separated now. It was very clear that the fight that was avoided before was going to happen in full. 

“It just doesn’t seem quite fair.” 

“What doesn’t seem fair?” he repeated coldly. “That people get to spend the holidays embracing their loved ones and I get—a phone call? Lingering memories of our time together?” 

“Shouldn’t that be enough?” 

It was a good point, but rage had gotten the better of him. “You know very well that it’s not!” When there was no response to this he nodded his head in blind agreement with himself. It also seemed to be a thick period on the entire conversation, and feeling mostly helpless about it all he decided it might be best to leave. Jihoon did not fight him on this. When he tied up his scarf Jihoon, despite their current antipathy toward each other, still did up the buttons of his coat for him. He felt terrible, but deep down they both knew that he was a little right. 

“I’m sorry to be so—disagreeable. You’ve got to understand—”

“I do.” he interrupted. “I hope you aren’t too miserable while you wait for me.” 

Soonyoung bent down for a kiss, but only received a quick, somewhat reluctant peck. “I hope you also understand that I’d wait forever.” And very satisfied with himself he added: “As long as I end up by your side in the end.” 

“Good-nite,” he said in a low, sorrowful tone. 

As the door closed behind him and he made his way down the stairs Soonyoung said “Damn!” in between long, harsh breaths. 

With Jihoon too busy to see him much at all, Soonyoung was of course desolate. He constantly considered if he maybe hadn’t taken the entire situation for granted and maybe they would have been happier now had they decided to be a couple. He couldn’t imagine in what way that would have happened, seeing as even when they met at their usual spots with only enough time to glance at one another he felt either way wouldn’t have made a difference, but he still couldn’t help the feeling of regret that clouded his heart. He continued to eat lunch in the abandoned office, if only to be depressed in private. Every small noise seemed to be exactly like Jihoon’s voice or his footsteps or his yawn. When the week was over and they said their final goodbye in the lobby, Soonyoung felt tears build behind his eyes as their formal handshake was broken. 

“Call me if you get the chance,” he said, unmoving. 

“I’d make the chance out of nothing,” he said quietly. His voice was so hushed that the last added “for you,” may have been Soonyoung’s imagination. 

The first week he felt inconsolably glum, and even the occasional phone call hardly cheered him up. They were on good terms. It felt like they hardly tolerated themselves, but only because they knew that they had done the other wrong. They spoke to each other with such love and tenderness that the conversations could only be had under the dark veil of the night sky just before they were going to sleep so that each phrase could be repeated over and over in their head like a gentle caress to help them doze into a comfortable sleep. 

The days had switched from their moody hot and cold afternoons and haunting nights. He woke once to a light snow falling and then again and again until it piled up everywhere like precious blankets woven from fallen stars. The days too felt more full of life by the coming of winter’s rigid beauty. The mornings were almost artificially white and though the sun still disappeared quickly now you looked forward to it, so you could see the clear moonlight bounce from everything like low music bounced around the room until it settled gently on your ear. 

After a while it all became more bearable and he actually learned to enjoy being alone with someone far away thinking of him in their free time. The only problem that came with this was, in the fourth week, the calls became less frequent and his mind went stir crazy. It had only been a little over three months since the start of their chilling affair and Soonyoung was so invested he had constant fantasies of what the next steps were; the confession of his love, moving in together, someday maybe even marriage. This alarmed him. He began thinking aloud. 

“I’ve gone crazy. But he’s sure to have a few old wounds from the past. They might even open while he’s there for some time. If people that he isn’t attracted to are after him—” he was too afraid to finish this sentence. He worried over this silently for another week, and it was only worsened when he inquired about old friends very casually. Jihoon told him that people were reaching out to him that he hadn’t seen in half a decade. Soonyoung felt it was hardly his place to inquire further, having been so hesitant and stubborn in their own relationship, but he felt mostly consoled when, after the call, there was a silently whispered confession. It warmed Soonyoung’s heart that whenever the conversation fell quiet Jihoon would mention the amount of days until they saw each other again. 

The day before he was set to return, the first of the new year, they stayed on the phone almost all night. Soonyoung had taken drinks with his family the night before and Jihoon had apparently done the same. Though the intoxication had passed they mentioned it to each other as if it were still there. The conversation became so unfiltered that they began to speak of their relationship, hearts in their throats.

“Has it been any good for you? Any of it at all?” 

“You ask me the most grotesque things, did you know that?” It was silent while Soonyoung waited for a response, or some form of denial to. “Soonyoung I’ve never been so honest with really anyone like I have with you. Every relationship I’ve had up until now seemed like the one between a snake and its charmer. You do that little dance every once in awhile but mostly it’s just being trapped and unhappy, then waiting until you can be.” 

“I’m sorry,” he said suddenly. 

“Oh–enough! I don’t want to hear that anymore.” 

“Okay,” he agreed obediently.

“And—another thing, I understand what you’re going through—Oh, I do. Just—don’t make it so hard on me. I’ve given you my all, though you wouldn’t know it.” he paused as if considering. “I suppose it’s kind of my fault for presenting myself like this person who loves unconditionally.” 

“Then what kind of person are you?” 

“The kind that’s tough and quiet and a little unfeeling.”

“I could hardly believe it!” 

“Maybe you sort of fixed me in a way. That first time we—” he let this go unfinished. “It made me very happy that you were so brash and happy.” 

“I still am.” he said, moved. 

“Let’s not ever wait again after this.” 

Soonyoung felt the sting of tears in his eyes. “I won’t, I won’t..!” He repeated emotionally and then after a long silence, said: “Jihoon—I love you.” 

This would go unanswered and the only response that he'd receive for a long while was a small, choking sob on the other line. This set off Soonyoung’s own tears and they cried happily and longingly and even despondently together until they fell asleep. The next day Soonyoung was awoken at seven-twenty in the morning to a loud banging at his door. Mostly scared, he called out wildly demanding to know who it is, but receiving the hushed response of a name so dear to him the door was thrown open and he had flung himself out, uncaring that they went tumbling to the floor in a merry little bundle. If he had looked about he would have seen that even the luggage was present. Jihoon had taken the first train back that morning and didn’t even stop home to drop off his things.