Work Text:
It had been two months since Sangwon picked Leo up from the airport.
Autumn had arrived a few days after, and it greeted them with the rainy scent of fallen burnt leaves. Korea stayed the same; bright, loud, moving. The mind-awakening truth that the world would keep revolving no matter how much it felt like it has stopped, and Leo had already begun to accept that.
Life at Sangwon’s apartment has also been quite the experience. His best friend stayed true to his word; all the remaining space he could give was cleared out so Leo could slowly start to adjust with settling in, and he was more than happy to receive anything that Sangwon could provide. But things weren’t the same as before. Despite the early breakfasts, late night movies, and midnight convenience store runs, something heavy hung in the air that they shared, an invisible boundary that exists but whose presence is never acknowledged.
Just like before.
And Leo was infuriated. He wanted the Sangwon he met when he was seventeen, the Sangwon he exchanged secret glances with in the corner of practice rooms, the Sangwon who begged him to come home in tears. He was still the same person, but the version he knew lay hidden in a corner of his heart that he could not access anymore.
It hurts.
“Hey, what are you thinking about?”
Leo was jolted out of his thoughts at the sound of Sangwon’s voice. They were eating takeout at the sofa, half-heartedly watching the pirated romcom that was playing on the small television. It was Thursday night, which means it was Leo’s turn to pick the movie they were gonna watch. He shook his head and smiled. “Nothing.”
Sangwon stared at him for a second, before placing the back of his palm on Leo’s neck. “You’re not sick, are you?” his tone was laced with worry as he moved his hand to Leo’s forehead. “You tend to space out when you’re not feeling well.”
Leo could hear his heartbeat thudding in his eardrums. Sangwon’s touch was like summer sunburn; it scorched his skin until he could feel it everywhere. It fades, but it always stays.
He gently removed the younger boy’s hand away from him and ruffled his hair affectionately. “I’m fine, really.”
Sangwon sighed, his eyes scanning Leo’s face in silent worry, and Leo was already starting to sweat; he was on the brink of exposure. If he could read Sangwon like an open book, so could he.
He stood up from the sofa, finding the remote and pausing the movie. “I’ll cook ramen for us, maybe it can cheer you up.”
“Won, I swear, I really am alright—“
Sangwon had readjusted the blanket over Leo’s body, making sure he was properly covered before heading towards the kitchen, ignoring his protests. “Take a rest while I cook, I’ll wake you up when the noodles are ready.” He turned back one last time before disappearing behind the wall that separates the kitchen from the living room.
All Leo could do was smile and shake his head, burrowing himself into the softness of the blanket as he sighed. It was just like Sangwon to fuss, to worry.
And it felt especially good that he was fussing and worrying about him.
For a moment, for once, it felt like they were back to normal.
A small ping sound interrupted the comfortable silence.
Leo peeked at the edge of the sofa to see what it is. It was a message notification on Sangwon’s phone, his sister asking how Leo was settling back in so far. A huge warmth had spread inside his chest at the thoughtfulness. He remembered the dinners he shared with Sangwon’s family in the past, how they welcomed him inside their home like he was their second son. Leo had grown close to them during those visits, to the point that they would check up on him through text even when he went back to Australia.
His second family.
He was about to lie back down before he saw something else on Sangwon’s screen. His Notes app was open, the arrangement of white letters glowing against the black backdrop. It was poems, separated by the dates they were written. Out of curiosity, Leo scooted closer to get a better look, wanting to read some of Sangwon’s prose. It was probably drafts for his writing account on Instagram.
09/25/22
Flashing lights have announced the end
A month had bled through my skin
The space you had once inhabited is now consumed by emptiness
But I still hear your laughter down the hall
Leo felt his heart stop beating as he finished reading the first poem.
No. It cannot be.
Was this about…?
He grabbed Sangwon’s phone and scrolled down to read the next poem.
12/18/22
It is snowing today
The small whispers of winter feel harsh on my skin
Everything has ended
So why is it still snowing?
It is not fair
A knot had started to form inside Leo’s throat, his vision shaking. He swallows it down.
01/15/23
A year and a world now separates us
I wake up into a reality where I do not breathe the same air as you
I want to scratch the pavement for the traces of your footsteps
To grasp the air for a ghost of your smile
Any proof that you were once here
Even with the distance, I continue to drown in you
How cruel must you be?
01/16/23
I miss you.
01/22/23
I miss you.
02/13/23
How could things not be the same between us
When the oxygen in my lungs encompasses every breath you inhaled and exhaled?
04/15/23
A melodrama plays in the small television
We are on the verge of being swept away to dreamland
As I glance at you one last time before slumber overtakes me
I realize how warm our shared blanket feels, and think
I am finally home
A gasp resounded in the silent living room. With his eyes brimming, Leo forced himself to stop reading and look up from the phone. Sangwon was standing there, reflecting the look on his face; shaken, broken, figured out.
Nobody knows what happened that night. Seoul continued to shine brightly outside, but for two young men in a cramped apartment downtown, their world seemed to have shrunk into the corners of their living room.
No chance for escape.
Not anymore.
All they know is, when the orange sun enshrouded the world in the blessing of a new day, they awoke in each other’s arms, and everything went back to the way it used to be.