Chapter Text
‘Hic I’m not normally this light-weight Hyung! Hic I’ve been drinking as much as you do!’ Tangbo giggled, as he leaned his head on the swordsman. His fingers wove between the blades of grass that littered the desolate hill they camped at. The Tang man had his robes discarded to the side, hair out of his usual bun, one hand fiddling the bright red hairpin.
‘Yeah yeah that's what you always say before you end up passing out’ Cheongmyeong grumbled, however he did not push the Tang aside, but rather repositioned himself to make the other strain their neck less. He could feel the others warm breath tickle his skin, the strong scent of wine and something sweet lingered in the air they shared.
It was a quiet night, a night like every other night. Cheongmyeong would get berated for something, run off with Tangbo, and together they’d drink to their hearts content until sunrise (or until a very tired sect leader noticed). What was once a way to run away from orders, was now a daily ritual between them. They’d rant about their sects, complain about inconsistencies, and playfully bash each other in the process.
Just harmless fun.
Mostly.
The bump on Tangbo’s head was definitely not harmless.
‘Hyung Hic I’ve been hearing a rumour recently, one about flowers.. Or uhh petals!’ Tangbo stammered. His head jolted up briefly, before shoving his face back into the warm corner of the swordsman's shoulders.
‘I thought you never listened to rumours?’ Cheongmyeong raised a brow, slowly turning to face the flushed face of the other – clearly drunk out of their mind.
‘Ah yes.. But this is different! Hic Apparently people are coughing up flower petals!’ Tangbo whispered, fiddling with the taoist's sleeve.
‘Hahhh? Flower petals? You think I'd believe that bullshit?’ Cheongmyeong furrowed his brows.
‘Ah Hyunggg Hic its not just the petals! Its the meaning behind them!’ Tangbo began ‘if someone has a crush Hic, they cough up petals! And apparently if this continues they diee Hic basically forcing you to confesss’.
‘Sounds like a meaningless rumour’ Cheongmyeong replied coldly.
‘Ah but that's where it gets crazyyyy Hyung Hic I’ve heard a girl from the Tang clan has been coughing up petalss just like the one in the rumour, and to make it worse I think she died recently Hic’ Tangbo slurred.
‘Eh? So you’re saying it's real?’
‘Uhm…I think so? Hic dont you think it's devastating to die from unrequited love?’ Tangbo replied, his gaze suddenly fixed on the other. Unwavering and adamant.
‘The only thing that's devastating is being cowardice enough to rather die than confess your feelings’ Cheongmyeong coughed, suddenly feeling the need to avoid the others' gaze.
‘Mmm is that so? Hic sounds like you’ve never been inlove beforeee’ Tangbo stammered, as his eyes drooped heavily, drifting off into a sweet slumber. He ruminated the scent of alcohol and tobacco, his hair was now completely decorating the swordsman's shoulder, unconsciously nuzzling his face in the crook of his neck. Yet Cheongmyeong didn't move a single inch.
‘And how would you know…brat..’ Cheongmyeong whispered, chewing on the inside of his mouth, as he watched the others' serene expression.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
‘Sahyung, can’t someone else do this?’ Cheongmyeong whined, eyeing the fat stacks of paper continuously piling up.
Days after their debrief, Cheongmun had appointed Cheongmyeong some work, particularly organising papers and piling them for Cheongjin to examine. Apparently, it was that time of year again where festivals littered the country. An event where families would gather with their children and run around the blocks, celebrating and creating fond memories. Where martial artists would settle to perform stages of song and dance. It brought Mount Hua together, like family.
‘I already told you I would compensate you, by lending you more money to spend on the festival day.’ Cheongmun sighed, rubbing his brows.
‘Butttt Sahyungggg’ Cheongmyeong grumbled louder. However his efforts to escape were ignored as Cheongmun glared and left the room with a loud bang. Cheongmyeong groaned, as he picked up a page dreadfully.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Despite the horrendous whining earlier, Cheongmyeong still respected the sect leader enough to actually get work done. Surprisingly. He’d gone through a fat stack of papers, noting down minor details he would bring up later before handing things over.The window glittered white rays across the saints desk, as if to ease the saint's aching head. Birds soothed the disgruntled office room with sweet melodies, as the wind carried the tune into a blissful harmony.
However, an agitating feeling swelled up inside his lungs. Something itchy, foreign, uncomfortable. Cheongmyeong jolted up as he pressed his calloused palms over his mouth in an attempt to gag out the extraneous variable. He tried to cough out the soft object sticking to the inside of his throat, but it wouldn't budge. The taoist impatiently forced a finger down his throat, gagging till he finally pulled out the source covered in bloodied saliva.
A single pink petal. The same shade as a plum blossom, however the petals tips were slightly different. Cheongmyeong scanned the petal for any signs of malicious intent, yet there was nothing. It really was, just, a plain pink petal. As organic as a petal could get. Flashbacks to Tangbo’s drunken rambling went through his head, as Cheongmyeong felt a sudden surge of metal taint his tastebuds. He licked the tip of his thumb, revealing a thick line of crimson red. Barely transparent. His face suddenly flushed red as he continued to recount the words of Tangbo slurred speech.
[‘ ‘if someone has a crush Hic, they cough up petals!’]
‘Why would I, the Plum Blossom Sword Saint, be in love? And with wh-’ but Cheongmyeong's brain cut himself off as the image of one person came to mind, clear as day. That stupid grin, that soft hair, those piercing eyes.
Tangbo.
He suddenly felt like his brain had short circuited.
No.
There's no way right? How could a guy like him be in love with his best friend? They're both men! And a scheming crazy tang clan guy who calls himself the dark saint? There's absolutely no way in hell he's in love with that edgelord.
After what felt like hours, he finally opened the window, watching as the petal fluttered out the window, discarded gently by the soft breeze.
Maybe it was best not to dwell on it for now…
.
.
.
…Or so he thought
Over the course of just a few hours, Cheongmyeong began wheezing, coughing, gagging more and more small shredded bits. He continued to gag till his palms were covered in tattered patterns of blood. His throat felt numb from the way it burned, releasing those tart pink petals. His breathing began to feel more laboured and a sudden dizziness struck his head, causing him to stumble. He pressed his back against the cool wall as a thermal shock to his overheating body, regulating his breathing as best as he could.
Seriously in just a few hours he was reduced to some overheated mess, just what was this illness’ deal? Of all the days he could have been beaten by this plague and it decides the day he finally wants to be productive? The hell? He panted as he made his way to the chair, his eyes blurred as if resisting to tear up.
Cheongmyeong cleared his throat, picking up the papers he'd dropped from his fit earlier. He could worry about this later. He’d give himself some time to debrief with himself and consult the turmoil causing these horrible sensations assaulting his lungs.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So why the hell did he make his way to the Tang the same night and drink with him again? Even Cheongmyeong didn't know how he ended up back in that leeches presence. There was something so alluring, so pleasant about the other’s company, he couldn't help but seek him out. Heck, they didn't even spar today, today he truly just went to drink and mess around. Maybe it was to confirm those stupid feelings in his heart, to find out if he truly did hold such affections for this brat he calls a best friend.
‘Hyung you're a bit quiet today, is everything alright?’ Tangbo hummed, facing towards the swordsman now on his 4th bottle of Sichuan wine.
‘Hm? Everything's fine Bo-ya” Cheongmyeong responded, taking another swig of the bottle. He could feel a petal forming, and it felt disgusting moving around in his lungs. He hoped the taste of wine would dumb it down, prioritising one sense over another.
The silence settled on the two like a comfortable blanket, words didn't need to be exchanged for them to feel comfortable and free around each other. Even if they just sat there all day. The moon was fully out tonight, large and rotund, accompanied by the glittering sight of stars frolicking in the deep dark sky. Cheongmyeong unconsciously began to stare at Tangbo as he took a sip from his bottle. The way the moon highlighted his dimples, decorating his brown locks, the way his eyes glowed as if they were trying to pull him into a trance, the way the light glistened from the drop of alcohol dripping down his chin-
Every little detail. To the way his lashes fluttered, to the way he slowly relaxed his posture as he sighed contently, throwing away the now empty bottle. Cheongmyeong could feel his heart beat louder, prominently louder as his lungs blocked up. He could only hold his breath as he gazed longingly at the other. Thankfully they were both heavy drinkers, otherwise there would be no other way for Cheongmyeong to explain the flushed look on his face as he realised what he was thinking.
Shit.
He was truly a lost cause.
However, more questions sparked as he turned to face the horizon, watching the colourful lights of the town miles away echo with the sound of laughter and music. Did Tangbo feel the same way? Was this feeling mutual? Was he seriously gonna die of heart break like some sappy maiden if Tangbo didn't like him back?
Ugh, seriously. Cheongmyeong was raised by the sword and only the sword! Who would have thought he would have gotten to such a strange point in his life, where he would now consider looking at someone romantically, actually, just looking at anyone at all! He wasn't built for this! He could fight, but this? He’d rather rot in a cave as punishment for the next month then stress over feelings. He truly never understood the bashful looks his Samaes would give to their spouses, how some men would tumble just by staring at a chick. Crazy developments were happening and he was not ready!
‘Hyung you look a bit constipated, do you want me to give you some laxatives?’ Tangbo teased, biting back a laugh as he stared at the swordsman deep in thought.
‘Augh- no I just- I just remembered I have something really important to do!’ Cheongmyeong spat, scrambling away chaotically from a very confused Tang. Behind him trailed a line of petals, landing on the soft blades of grass. From beyond, Tangbo could hear the faded voice of the swordsman coughing and choking.
‘Are those…petals?’ Tangbo murmured as he curiously picked one up.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A few days had passed, yet no sign of the crazy Taoist. Did he finally get tired of hanging around an outcast of the Tang family? Tangbo murmured as he scribed. Usually, if Tangbo were not to show up to mount Hua for even 2 days, that bastard would kick open his door, demanding for either a spar or a drink, or both if he was feeling manic. He also couldn't stop thinking of those petals.
‘Hyung likes someone…and hasn't told me a single detail..’ Tangbo sulked as he flipped to the next page, dipping his pen back into the thick black jar of ink, rolling up his sleeves to ensure they weren't going to be stained. It felt like a knife churned his guts, his heart felt heavy even thinking about the possibility of his Hyung with someone else.
‘Shit, this is driving me crazy’ Tangbo mumbled, before erupting into a coughing fit. He clawed into the side of the table as he folded over, hysterically coughing as drops of blood and green petals scattered across his table. He clumsily wiped the spit and blood from his lips as he heaved. He paced his breathing before sighing deeply, ripping the bloodied page out the book apologetically.
‘I needed to rewrite this anyway’ he sighed, picking up the pen and dipping it back into the ink that somehow hadn't spilled. ‘Maybe I should visit the sect myself’, he thought.
.
.
.
Cheongmyeong wasn't doing any better, grumbling as Cheongmun interrogated him profusely.
‘You should have told me something was happening! Why didn't you tell me you were throwing up blood?’ Cheongmun scolded.
‘Ahhhhh Sahyung it isn't that big of a deal! I'll be fine in no time’ Cheongmyeong muttered, picking at his ear.
‘You brat you're basically dying! Do you even know what's happening to you?’ Cheongmun furrowed his brows, as he picked up a bloodied petal that sat blissfully on the table, waving it in front of his sajaes eyes.
‘Uhmm.. I'm getting possessed by the spirit of Mount Hua..?’ Cheongmyeong joked, however Cheongmun only glares harder as the other pathetically tries to laugh it off.
‘Cheongmyeong-ah, you've got hanahaki disease’ Cheongmun sighed.
‘hakuna what now?’
‘Hanahaki’
‘Hanakka?’
‘What? We’re not even jewish’
‘Hannkah?’
‘Ha-na-haki’
‘Hannah haki?’
Cheongmun gritted his teeth as he stared at the idiot pretending to be a dunce. Cheongmyeong, was in fact, a horrible liar. He was truly resisting the urge to throw him down the mountain, however his affections for his sajae outpaced those violent desires.
For now.
‘Cheongmyeong-ah, is there someone you like?’ Cheongmun choked out, resisting the urge to make a disgruntled face. Who would have thought that a crazy lunatic like Cheongmyeong was able to fall in love? Who's this poor victim?
In response, Cheongmyeong choked out another petal, clearly surprised by such a question coming from none other than his Sahyung.
‘I- well- um-’
‘just spit it out myung-ah- no- I mean the person you like not another petal’
‘I think its- well-’
‘What? Is it Tangbo?’ Cheongmun teased, descending into utter devastation as Cheongmyeong said nothing in response.
‘...’
‘...’
‘you’re a cut sleeve?’
‘...’
‘I guess that explains a lot..’
‘...’
‘Well whether you like men or women, Mount Hua will always be there for you, a very brave preference indeed-’ Cheongmun soothed.
‘Sahyung!’ Cheongmyeong’s face turned bright red as he began to frantically slap Cheongmun's shoulder.
‘Haha Alright, alright I'll get straight to the point, how come you haven't confessed yet?’ Cheongmun questioned. He always knew his sajae was always pretty upfront, basically nothing could embarrass Cheongmyeong, yet here he was hesitating.
‘I guess I'm not sure how to? Plus, what if he doesn't feel the same? Will I just die?‘ Cheongmyeong lazily replied, however his tone had a hint of curiosity.
‘From what I've heard, you wouldn't really die if you accept and move on, however I strongly believe you should, well, ask him how he feels?’ Cheongmun responded softly.
‘And what does my oh so wise Sahyung suggest I do?’ Cheongmyeong teased.
‘Perhaps travel to the Tang estate to ask him personally’ Cheongmun hinted.
‘Huh, okay. I guess that would work..’. Cheongmyeong scratched his cheek, before standing up and making his way to the door. ‘Anyway these papers won't finish themselves Sahyung! Haha talk later!’ and with an aggressive clack, the door slammed, leaving the sect leader at the table covered in drops of blood and petals.
Cheongmun was starting to wonder if his intervention was the right choice. He was secretly praying he hadn't sent the grim reaper over to force a confession out the others mouth.
But then he remembered, the Tang could be equally as insane.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
As soon as the sun rose, Cheongmyeong made his way steadily over to the Tang estate. He had fully decided then and there that he would be blatant about his feelings (he tells himself, although he still remains slightly hesitant). No more beating around the bush, no more hiding, no more of that communication gap. He had to get it through to that leeches head one way or another.
Even if he was rejected, as long as they remained friends… right…?
Would his heart even be able to handle that? He'd just realised how sensitive and deep his affection ran for that bastard. Plus, the fact it was a man was still something Cheongmyeong hadn't come to terms with. He knew the stigma around cut sleeves was…strong… So what if Tangbo thought he was disgusting? Could they actually stay friends?
As he whined spiritually, he hadn't realised he was already at the Tang estate till he had finally approached Tangbo's quarters. His doors were decorated in a deep green, carvings indented in the wood shaped like vines, or perhaps even snakes. He breathed softly as he raised his hand, knocking on the door.
Yet not a word.
Not a peep.
Not even a small noise.
Did this bastard just ignore him? He would have broken the door down by now, but theTang threatened that the next time he breaks down the door, he'd rob his Sahyung in broad daylight as compensation. Then again, he was here to profuse his love like the oh so romantic man he was (he internally gagged at such a statement).
So he knocked again.
And once again there was no noise.
‘Sword saint, are you looking for Tangbo?’ a soft voice called out. Cheongmyeong turned around to see a young tang boy, fiddling with his fingers as he slowly walked towards the large figure before him.
‘Yah A-pyung! Where'd that lunatic go?’ Cheongmyeong huffed, crossing his arms.
‘The elder left without saying a word to anyone’ the child murmured softly ‘I think it's been a few days now..’, staring at the floor, afraid of the swordsman's watchful eyes glazing down at him. Cheongmyeong walked over to the small figure, placing his hand on his head as he ruffled his hair.
‘Huh, I see. Thank you.’ Cheongmyeong muttered, as he briskly walked out the estate. There's no way Tangbo didn't know he had the disease, after all he’d mistakenly left a trail of petals when he erratically ran off that one night. The guy was a doctor after all so he of all people would know exactly what was wrong with Cheongmyeong. It has been days and days since that night.
Which only left him with one thought in his head.
Was Tangbo avoiding him? Maybe he knew Cheongmyeong liked him, and went somewhere he couldn't find him? Is that why he never tried to reach out after that? Not even a single letter! Were his feelings unrequited? Was it too far-fetched to believe he had a little hope that the guy liked him back?
‘Cruel bastard…’ Cheongmyeong muttered, changing his destination to none other than the pub.
.
.
.
‘Hyung?’ Tangbo called as he paced around from building to building, attempting to search for a certain Taoist. Cheongmyeong was never the type to ignore him, but he wasn't the type to run over to him like an obedient puppy either. Something was clearly amiss. He checked the usual spots, the small area behind the sect leaders residence, the small stream, their debatable drinking spot.
Yet no sign of the swordsman.
Tangbo began to lose hope, scampering around like a rat, as the disciples on mount Hua shared skeptical glances between the tang and each other.
‘Someone you looking for, dark saint?’ a disciple finally voiced.
‘Ah Cheonjin, have you seen Hyu- Cheongmyeong?’ Tangbo corrected, staring awkwardly at the scholar holding a stack of papers and scrolls. He looked weirdly disheveled, like he got pounced on by a wild lion.
‘Uhhhhh.. the brat ran off somewhere. I thought he was always with you?’ Cheongjin questioned, readjusting his hold on the stack.
‘hmm… I thought so too…’ Tangbo moped, feeling defeated as he lazily descended the peak. He had begun to jog his memory, wondering if Cheongmyeong was avoiding him before stumbling on a rock, tumbling down the steps dramatically as if to accentuate the pity he was already being given by the very depressed scholar. He landed face first in the mud, his nose bleeding as he coughed up another green chunk. Although, there was something different about this petal that dragged its way out, something larger, obstructing his airway completely.
It was almost perfect.
A beautiful ivory green flower, inact and blooming.
‘Eughhh…’ the Tang groaned, clutching his head as he got up. He looked up half-lidded to see the silhouette of Cheongjin staring down the mountain, obviously holding the urge to laugh at his face. Looking extremely constipated. Just add to the burn why don't you!
‘Maybe I'll drink this off..’ he murmured, crawling back up to his feet with the help of a solid tree, and stumbling off to who knows where like a depressed maiden. His clothes were completely dirtied, basically looking unrecognisable from his usual pristine appearance.
Maybe Cheongmyeong was off to find this ‘crush’ of his.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The sky had turned to a vibrant red hue, the birds settled back into their nests as the noises of wildlife slowly died down. Leaving only the intoxicated swordsman with his thoughts. The wind blew his dark bangs, as he lay sprawled out on the floor, gazing at the stars. His eyes half lidded as he pondered about all sorts of things.
For example, when did this start? Was it the first fight? The first drink? The first time he succumbed to being called Hyung? The first time he called Tangbo, Bo-ya? Was it the first time he hung around the Tang estate, accidentally spending the night from how much they drank and giggled till Cheongmun himself had to show up and drag him back home?
Did it really take a life threatening disease to realise all this? Just how far deep was his denial? Cheongmyeong wanted to drink away his anxiousness, but for some reason the alcohol in his system only fuelled it.
‘Agh, Hyung?’ A voice hummed from behind. Cheongmyeong jolted upright as he turned to face the figure he hadn't noticed before. Tangbo stood there covered in grime and…blood?
‘The hell happened to you?’ Cheongmyeong questioned, furrowing his brows as he tried not to gag from feeling the uncomfortable plant form in his lungs.
‘is Hyung so concerned for my wellbeing? How cute, I just took a tumble’ Tangbo remarked, holding up his sleeve to wipe the blood dripping down his lips. A suspicious amount of blood at that. Even a bleeding lip wouldn't create this much blood, and yet he just kept wiping and wiping with his gaze fixed on the other. At this point his robes would turn red. Even as the corner of his lips continued to bleed, he didn't open his mouth. Not once. Actually, Tangbo was talking with his sleeve more up than usual. As if he were hiding something.
Cheongmyeong pushed upright, as he walked steadily towards the elder. His eyes remained fixed on the others' behaviour, watching the way his body slightly tensed, and the way his gaze turned to the left as he took a small step back.
He was definitely hiding something.
With a soft tug, Cheongmyeong wrapped his hand around the tangs sleeve, forcing it down as they stared eye to eye.
‘Open your mouth’ Cheongmyeong charged.
‘Mm?’ Tangbo noised.
‘I won't repeat myself Bo-ya, open your mouth’ the swordsman's face scrunched up, exuding a dark aura as he glared. Tangbo, not wanting to get beat up after rolling around in the mud for so long, quietly complied. The minute he opened his mouth, Cheongmyeong got his answer.
A perfectly formed flower, a dark green, but it had blossomed to the point there were even thorns slithered around the root. It looked deeply disturbing, even Cheongmyeong's flowers hadn't been cruel enough to develop thorns. What stage was this? Cheongmyeong unconsciously pulled the flower out, eliciting an aggressive choke out the tang as he clutched his neck. Cheongmyeong rubbed circles wearily across the others back as he caressed the flower in his other hand. It was covered in blood and spit, and even accumulated more thorns than he had seen from the outside. Surely this must have been hell to choke out, so why hasn't this crazy guy confessed to his crush?
‘... so who's the girl?’ Cheongmyeong interrogated.
‘Its not…’ Tangbo murmured under his breath, mouthing something the other couldn't comprehend.
‘Eh? It's not what?’ Cheongmyeong's patience was already running thin, first this guy ditches him and doesn't provide any reason as to why he suddenly vanished for days on end, and now he’s acting all shy?
‘It's not a…’ Tangbo murmured again, turning his head to stare at a rock next to him.
‘Speak up damn it’ Cheongmyeong grunted, impatiently dropping the flower and tugging on the other's collar, forcing the other to turn his head ajar at the others nonsensical behaviour.
‘I said it's not a girl!’ Tangbo confessed, causing Cheongmyeong to widen his eyes at the profound statement. He could feel his heart racing, the petal that was once sliding against his throat was now being chewed on by how hard he grit his teeth.
‘...huh?’ Cheongmyeong stammered.
‘Hyung… to be honest, I’ve never been into women.’ Tangbo whispered, as his collar was finally let go. He expected Cheongmyeong to scold him. To tell him it was wrong. To tell him that a man couldn’t like another man, just as his sect taught him, but the blow never came. The yelling never began. He was left with a stunned swordsman, whose expression felt unreadable. Did he feel disgusted? So disgusted that he didn't even want to talk to him?
‘... so, who's the man?’ Cheongmyeong finally mustered up, his breathing hitched as he stared at the other whose eyes jolted wider. He watched as the others' facial features softened, coincidentally as the clouds gave way to highlight the moment. His eyebrows relaxed, his shoulders slumped, and he sighed softly as he relaxed his eyes. He turned to face the town miles off, the same town they had always gazed at, most nights.
‘You.’ Tangbo grinned slyly, still facing towards the town, even as his body language remained directly facing the other. Cheongmyeong suddenly coughed up the petal he had tried so hard to shove down, forcing the other to turn his head in concern as blood erupted from his mouth.
‘Is this what disgusts you Hyung?’ Tangbo laughed bitterly, walking slowly towards the swordsman to check how serious the damage was. ‘I tried so hard, but I couldn’t help it, Hyung. I couldn’t help it.’ The tang elder picked up the fallen petal on the floor, examining it with utmost precision. A perfectly pink flower, it looked identical to Tangbos, other than the fact it was a different colour and held no thorns. Tangbo gently cupped the swordsman's face, even as he choked out the last remaining clots of blood blocking his throat.
‘Ah, I never said I was disgusted you idiot’ Cheongmyeong voices hoarsely.
‘I kno- wait what?’
‘I’m not disgusted, at all’
‘Not even a little?’
‘No’
‘But..why?’
‘Isn't it obvious?’ Cheongmyeong muttered, his face flushing brightly as Tangbo took his sweet time trying to register what the taoist was implying. Cheongmyeong leaned his forehead towards the other, his eyes softly widening as his pupils expanded. His face was overheating, his lungs were still trying to kill themselves, and he let out a shaky breath as he watched the others face slowly turn red.
‘Y-you!’ Tangbo stuttered, as fireworks went off in his head. Were they actually fireworks or was he screaming? He couldn’t tell, just that his head was full of noise and his heart was definitely not suited for all this tension. ‘Say it, speak it, tell me the words Hyung’ Tangbo whispered breathlessly.
‘I like you, Tangbo-ya’ the swordsman finally confessed.
‘Prove it’ Tangbo teased.
The swordsman clumsily moved in, holding the elders face with his hand. He moved slowly, hesitantly, clearly lacking experience, but who could blame him? Tangbo instead met him half way, pressing gently against the others lips. Soft and intimate, ignoring the clumps of blood and coloured petals breaking free and mingling with the sweet kiss.
‘Kissing with blood in your mouth is disgusting’ Cheongmyeong grumbled.
‘Oi didn't you lean in first?’ Tangbo retorted.
The two went back and forth, yet they refused to let go of the hand holding the other's cheek. They giggled and teased in playful banter, even with the disgruntled feeling of flowers blooming in their lungs.
‘So, like, will the petals stop coming now?’
‘Uhm… I think so?’
‘Hey aren’t you the doctor here?’
‘I’m also the patient here damnit’
And so, the flowers blossomed and bloomed, plums danced with ivy and mingled into a sweet loving sensation. Something they would both cherish, till the very end.
—