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“Riku, get your ass back in here! You're missing out on the party.” Yushi waved his hands wildly through the crowd. Riku squinted at the sight of him and briefly considered pretending not to know his friend's loud antics at a party. He looked far too cheerful and eager, jumping in place with an irrepressible grin.
He rolled his eyes. “Get back in and stop bothering me!” Riku shouted in Japanese from the doorway. He tried to keep his voice steady, hoping it wouldn’t betray his mood.
The other boy rolled his eyes back at him, it was almost like their way of communication. He disappeared into the club packed with bodies. Riku glanced once more at his back before heading toward the backyard.
The air was surprisingly warm for February, warm enough that he still had his fur-lined denim jacket on. This was Seoul, for God’s sake, and it was colder than Fukui. He wanted to lay on the grass and watch the stars through those annoying red lights strung around the yard.
Once he found the most comfortable patch of grass he could manage, he reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his cigarette box -decorated with red hearts and skulls he had doodled while crying last week. He tried not to think about how ridiculous that was.
After lighting his cigarette, he exhaled slowly, releasing not only smoke but also the sadness pressing inside his chest. He closed his eyes and listened to the love songs drifting through the streets of Seoul.
Then he chuckled.
The chuckle turned into soft giggles. His eyes welled up—predictably. At twenty-one, he felt like he was the only person in the world this lonely.
He took another drag and was about to close his eyes again when he sensed movement in the shadows beside him. A presence he’d grown used to without noticing.
“What the fuck…” Riku muttered in Japanese.
He sat up quickly and froze.
Someone was looking at him. Watching… him.
The boy’s dark strands fell effortlessly over his forehead, framing a face carved in pretty precision. His jawline was sharp enough to catch the shifting light, shadow pooling just beneath it. His nose sat perfectly centered, clean and straight -it was the perfect last touch God left on his face clearly.
And his lips-
Shit, Riku shouldn’t have come down here.
His lips looked delicious when slightly parted, like he had been about to say something and changed his mind at that moment. When his tongue flicked slowly across them curiously, the faint sheen left behind made them look unbearably soft.
His eyes were the worst part for Riku.
There was something almost restrained in the way he held Riku’s gaze; like he was in no rush, like he knew exactly what he was doing.
Riku should have returned to the party, but he didn't.
On Valentine’s Day, seeing a boy standing before him with that hungry look -he couldn’t help himself.
Their eyes locked on each other, Riku found himself gripping the grass for no reason at all. Maybe it was the glimmering innocence or something intense, almost dangerous but he felt mesmerized nonetheless.
The guy didn’t speak. He stood where he was at.
“Cat got your tongue?” Riku teased in Japanese on purpose, lifting his brow playfully.
The boy smiled faintly but seemed distracted. He stepped closer and gently took the still-burning cigarette from between Riku’s fingers.
Riku smiled wider. Maybe he’d found himself a smoking partner.
The boy examined the cigarette, smashed the tip of the burning roll on the side of his converse before Riku could say anything, then looked back at him.
“You know,” he said in Korean, his voice calm and accented, “I read in a book that every cigarette takes eleven minutes off your life.”
His voice sounded so confident and calm, even Riku could forgive the overused line. Especially with that warm rhythm in his Korean.
Riku knew the language and the guy clearly understood Japanese but Riku being Riku, he kept going.
“That is not a great way to motivate someone who is already depressed,” he replied dryly, staring right back at his eyes.
The boy smiled warmly. “Wouldn’t it be a tragedy for someone as pretty as you to die too soon?" he said in Korean.
Riku chuckled while rolling his eyes. “Whoop- okay there, Korean boy- do I look that easy to you? Easy with the lines."
The boy chuckled back, leaning slightly to one side as he watched him. He looked maddeningly handsome like that.
“You don’t want to hear worse ones,” he warned in Korean-accented Japanese. “I’ve heard plenty since I met new Japanese friends from my campus.”
“I’m waiting for the bombardment,” Riku replied, giggling as he crawled a little closer across the grass.
The boy leaned nearer. His warm breath brushed Riku’s forehead.
“Was your father a thief? Because he stole the stars from the sky and put them in your eyes?” he asked in Japanese.
His Japanese was unexpectedly soft. Melodic. Tender. Riku blinked. It was a terrible, terrible pick up line. Yet… Riku felt his own legs trembled slightly. His heart pounded harder with every stupid word.
God, what was happening to him?
The boy watched his expression carefully, clearly proud of himself. They both burst into laughter then.
Riku narrowed his eyes playfully and grabbed the boy’s shoulder, letting the force of his laughter push him closer.
As if sensing the shift, the boy slid an arm around his waist. Their foreheads touched as they laughed.
“I'm Riku,” he said in Korean, cheeks flushed.
The boy cleared his throat as if to deepen his voice. Then he brought Riku’s hand to his lips.
“Dai- yon,” he murmured back in Japanese, leaving Riku stunned with his fingers still on his lips. Daeyoung.
“Wow. That sounds like a star name,” he teased, taking his fingers back in a rush, tugging on the hem of his jacket now. His cheeks were the exact same shade of red the heart decorations back at the party place were.
"Nice to meet you, Daeyoung," he said in Korean, clearly embarrassed by his stubbornness on speaking Japanese only. “And no,” he added quickly, shaking his head. “I’m sure my father wasn’t a thief. And don’t compare my eyes to stars, hah- I’m not that mesmerizing.”
“Nice to meet you too, Iku.” Daeyoung replied softly in Korean. "You are very beautiful."
Riku was absolutely burning with embarrassment but then… he had heard the loud commodity behind him once again, speakers blasting 2NE1's I Love You throughout the street. He remembered what day it was: Valentine’s Day.
The weight of it hit him again. His eyes welled up despite himself. His chin trembled.
Daeyoung noticed immediately, he straightened up and held Riku a little closer. Gently lifting his chin. "Heey, Riku- What's wrong? Are you okay?" Daeyoung said softly.
“Tell me, Daeyoungie,” Riku whispered, already used to his name now, voice fragile, “I still don’t understand the point of this day. How can someone as lonely as me enjoy this day?”
Daeyoung thought for a moment. "I always thought Valentine’s Day was for the lonely ones mostly," he said cutely. "In the end, everyone finds their match somehow."
Riku looked into his eyes, trying not to search for a hidden meaning but his heart beat louder anyway. “I… I don’t understand,” he admitted.
Daeyoung only smiled.
His hand slid from Riku’s chin to his cheek, tilting his face gently upward while his eyes asked for a permission Riku couldn't quite react. Then, he pressed his lips against his softly.
Every nerve in Riku’s body sparked alive as he parted his lips instinctively, drawn toward the warmth. Their mouths moved together slowly at first, then with growing certainty, it was so fitting and matching. They were learning each other, with each other.
When Daeyoung pulled back for air, they were both smiling.
And then they leaned in again.
And again. Again.
Until the world felt smaller than the space between them.
(How could there ever be an end?)