Archive of Our Own

In a small European town that will only be briefly enjoyed with rapturous pity there stood a small tour group that were set now to enter a bus. They were all led by a tour guide and instead of the convenient and short route that would have come with the bus ride from one large city to another at a fair price, they were set to take what was convinced to be the more scenic route that was on no tourist map or guidebook. Of course, they believed this with enthusiastic guilelessness. It was only somewhat more scenic than what would have been shown; picturesque trees that seemed to be planted just for their viewing pleasure, not a leaf out of place, and a clear blue sky that ombred out into a darker color as you looked further up as if it were trying to show you that the dark purple abyss of space was just out of sight and wanted to remind you that there was much more to life than what you were experiencing, but none the less should be enjoyed.

They agreed to a quick stop at a gas station at the next nearest town so they might all use the bathroom, but in reality they would only stop for the moment so they could gawk and awe at the romantic scenery that would likely not have such an effect had unfamiliar surroundings and their freed spirits gave it an air of holiness which it did not deserve. In the fifteen minute break, 20 people stepped from the bus, but making haste due to the collective hunger of their curious eyes they did not notice when only 19 had returned. The last was a young man with short black hair and a very pale complexion. He was the odd example of the larger group in terms of interest. He found the scenery to be wonderful, without a doubt, but he much preferred not to waste his time looking at the fairly monosyllable view of trees and mountains and sometimes houses; like a periaktos that gave you one picture or another at each turn. Disembarking, he broke off from the group, as he was wont to do after such a long time with little space to be silent and alone. He found some interest in walking along further down the off road nearby and observing a cluster of houses that varied significantly in color, as if they wanted very much to stand our from the bright green of the foliage, but were afraid their house might be accumulated into a low hanging cloud lest it be too white of a color.

He became suddenly inspired to explore a little hidden alley further down that broke off after a short useless little bridge that hardly justified the small thin stream below. Something about this little area pulled him, and walking down to explore what it might be like underneath he climbed a precautious little stone wall until he stepped on firm mud beneath and noticed with a small start that the bridge was much larger below, and almost against his will he moved toward it's eerie darkness with wan curiosity, stopping short when he had finally come to his senses. Turning around he broke in an instant sweat when he realized he must have been left behind, and with some disbelief he laughed a short syllable laugh that echoed through the seemingly magical underside of such a pitiful bridge.

Reaching for the rock wall just outside of it's shadowy umbra he began to climb with some difficulty due to his slight panic, and just as quickly as he had made a step up, quite suddenly he was being pulled back down. He could not see what it was and nowhere inside had he sensed such a presence of someone just looming over him. Fighting blindly against it, he elbowed and kicked toward whomever had reached for him but it seemed to be of no avail. They had a grip so tight and firm on his arm that it even stopped him from slipping on his way down. Glancing to try and see who it might be was useless, they hid just in the darkness that the best he could come up with is a pair of piercing yellow eyes—he wondered momentarily if he was imagining their glow, but it was only momentary because quite suddenly they were closed, and then he felt an intense pressure on his neck, and then he knew no more.

The next time he was conscious he was inside a bright ambulance with a very tense conversation in a language he did not speak. They asked him his name in English, but feeling intense pain and a terrible headache he could only sigh, and again darkness overtook him. What felt like a lifetime later he awoke, or so he thought. After a preemptory feeling about he learned that he was able to move a little, but some cold metal was stopping him. He would have panicked had he been able to tell if he were actually awake or if it were all some strange dream that he couldn't force himself from. After much wiggling and a little kick, he discovered that he was able to move the metal box so it might slide. A little further and he saw light. Much further and he was out. Looking around he noticed he was in a hospital gown, and with a rush of despair he mused out that he was in a morgue.

The entirety of the situation shocked him so that he got a rush of adrenaline he was mostly embarrassed by. He walked to a shelf that seemed to carry personal items, but only able to find his wallet, he dug through other bags until he had made a full outfit; only belatedly feeling sorry for taking the belongings of other poor souls who were not as lucky as he were to seemingly gain another chance at life. With his heart beating wildly, he escaped the room as if it were a prison, and finding a back door that was for employee use only, he found himself in the middle of what he proclaimed to be nowhere. Walking to the nearest bus in a quickly settling dusk he figured he would ride a bus until it was in a major town, and from then on he rather tactfully found his way to the airport. He did not check the newspaper for any searching of him, nor did he call up the guide so he might join them again. Having gone through something so stunning he figured it best to deal with it at home, cutting his trip short. Only after he was home and found an intense discomfort under the hot city sun that he had never felt before in his life did he decide to take a few days and figure out if he had not maybe better be in a hospital, or perhaps had died after all. Leaving silently when being tested a third time during a simple check up, for they could find no pulse, detected deathly low blood pressure, and lastly with some disbelief he noticed that the mirror above the sink produced no image when he stepped in front of it.

----

He found that the more time went on the more tolerable he was to sunlight, which helped the days pass more comfortably, but he suffered many long weeks where he could not get the courage to somehow acquire nourishment. Every food he ate, no matter his opinion of it, hit the bottom of his stomach like a rock and stayed there for much longer. He learned blood was what he now must consume only when he woke up in an abandoned parking garage with the limp and rather compressed bodies of many birds all about him. He had found his canine teeth to be naturally pointed, but with some prompting he noticed he was able to extend them. At first he could not bare the thought of willingly taking the lives of such hopeless creatures and lived in a constant state of feeble hunger until he went on a fugue like tear. This became inconvenient and somewhat annoying, but only after much convincing and vague twisting of morality was he able to convince himself that it was okay. Eventually, he discovered that you could buy blood in bulk, though the embarrassment that came when they would ask what he used it for never ceased.

Many decades and two centuries passed in confused succession. He relearned how to live and retaught himself to feel; the passing of cherished friends, loved family, irreproachable eras in the world, time, and space. When the last person he had known was gone he let the days pass in bitter contempt for his eternal misery. Only when he slept did he get any surcease from the depression that he had somehow allowed his lifetime to turn into. Every generation had seemed to pass by in ceremonious leaps while just he stood wading through the torment of never-ending life. He took to learning new languages, but after a long friendship with a half foreign boy that he brooded over the untimely death of did he find it useless. Music he found some comfort in, but with only one mind and infinite time he learned that all music is eventually just the same thing arranged in a different way with perhaps a personal meaning put into it. He had lost the last light of personal meaning when his childhood home, dilapidated and discolored like a water-stained book, was destroyed to be replaced by a tall, modern apartment building.

Losing the self he once was, he saw each generation more as a fashionable coat that he might switch out for something lighter as the seasons changed rather than he did as a bustle of exterior stimuli. With this new outlook he had decided the he of so long ago was much more human than he of now, which justified his sudden impulse to take as much of the blood supply at his local hospital as he might fit in a small messenger bag. No longer able to use his identity that died momentarily 190 years ago, and certainly 80 or so after that, he found it easy to walk in rather blatantly if no one were around. Feeling a rush of relief when he passed a group of nurses with little questioning, he slipped easily into a room that was lined with fridges. Trying each one he found all assortments of odd human attachments and secretions until finally he opened a very filled cooler that produced many bags of blood once the mounds of ice were brushed aside. He giddily stuffed two into his bag, then three more, convincing himself it not at all odd that after five more were lined in it seemed like a very awkward bulge to his bag. As he contemplated whether he would be able to drink one now like a child's juice pouch, the door opened.

His heart stopped. A very feminine man with almost reddish brown hair cut into a flattering, uneven bob looked at him with large eyes. Closing the door behind himself he asked, very slowly: "Who are you?"

"Oh⸺Well⸺A new hire." he knew this was not convincing, but he had lost his touch with human beings and found any conversation to be useless. "Lee Jihoon. I'm just walking about."

"I see," he responded casually. Jihoon could swear there was a flash in his eyes. "Well, you wouldn't happen to have your badge? You can imagine this is an authorized area."

"Why, yes." He fumbled in his pockets and acted surprised when he came up only with the expected nothing. "I must have left it in the bathroom or other."

"Ah, yes." And unexpectedly he questioned no further.

"Very interesting—these specimens." Jihoon said dumbly, unsure now what to do.

"I've got some important business to take care of, you know how it is as a nurse. Why don't you leave me your number?" he elaborated no further. What he wanted the number for was not explained but it seemed that he knew there would be no justification needed if they could mutually avoid the subject.

"Oh, yes. Of course," Jihoon found difficulty hiding the full bag of stolen items while he grabbed his business card from the bottom without very obviously turning it from sight. He smiled in a nervous, strained way when he handed it over. "Well—I'll get out of your hair."

The following morning he received a call from the young man and learned that his name was Jeonghan. He was hired as a nurse there but they did not respect the nurses, or so it seemed fashionable recently. (Jihoon agreed noncommittally to this.) He was more than obliged to give Jihoon any blood, seeing that a large majority of it had gone to waste recently with the current carelessness of the hospitals owner. In exchange he only wanted to know why. It felt very difficult and largely embarrassing to explain that he was a vampire, much like the recently popularized western novel "Dracula". They spent two hours discussing the details of this and he found himself surprised that it was very interesting to hear what others might think of it. He had not told anyone he had known when everyone he knew was still alive. It felt like more of a blight than a comfort for others to figure out everything he was going through when he himself had hardly known. Now he was well versed about himself and it mostly amused him to be a little awed. He pretended to take not notice in the building friendship that came with their arrangement, and he somewhat dreaded the reliance that would follow.

Three years later, a little more human thanks to his technically older friend, he began an odd journey to the rest of his life. It began on a particularly purple dusk. They went out together to a small local place that offered a dollar per pint of beer. Jihoon's inability to get inebriated pleased Jeonghan to no end, so they often did so together were he given a night off of work. The sun had set completely and it seemed that unlike he, the liquor had caught up to his mortal friend, and he began passionately to explain the pity he had for him.

"You just seem s' sad all the time. Or maybe not sad -- indif'rnt."

Jihoon noticed the slur in his words and brought his half empty mug out of reach. "I'd rather not get the pity of—Well, someone who will be obliterated in around 70 years."

"Like I said! Indif'rnt."

"Then what do you suggest?" he demanded touchily.

"Why not - a blind date? Or maybe an arranged marriage with some—" he hesitated for a long while, but continued ambiguously when Jihoon blushed. "some royal per'on what might want to live forever as'wel'."

"That's more of Frankenstein's area I believe." When he did not receive the desired reaction, he explained: "Making monsters. You get it?"

Jeonghan smiled politely. "I think you're avoiding. You don't have the emotional capaci'y."

"I have more capacity than you could ever know."

"T' be in love. Mos' human thing there is." he began now to doze off, lying with his head in the bend of his arm.

"I can be in love." Jihoon declared, mostly to himself.

A little muffed, came: "You're in your twenties and I've hardly ever seen you give a stranger a second glance."

"So?"

"You're in your twenties!" he exclaimed suddenly, throwing his head back and his arms up. "When love is the only thing that matters to you and seems so romantic at times that you go blind."

"You're just ending your twenties."

"Oh, I've had my fair share of love," he said with raised eyebrows.

"I'm over two hundred years old, Jeonghan."

"Oh, but you're body is stuck at 24—technically."

"You confuse me for a sentimentalist."

"My apologies." Jeonghan sighed dramatically. "I forgot how your stubborn, pragmatic take on life diverts you from deeper connection."

He became defensive, "It doesn't! I can—be in love." and seeing how his friend had been rapidly sobering, he left with only a short goodbye.

Entertaining the idea seemed ridiculous to Jihoon, but he figured it would be nice to create memories that he might be able to brood happily over later—and he hadn't been doing anything else. He bought several different "trendy" magazines and searched for events in them. He remembered seeing a number listed under the announcement of some celebrity engagement that hosted what seemed like a roulette of sporatic dating events in places some famous people frequented. He thought he would be happy to have moved to a larger city, but this was the only moment of his long life that such was true.

After calling several numbers he came up short. One was going to be hosted in the afternoon, but it was full; another had just ended; three more all directed him to the same number that explained they had combined into a mixxer. The thought of it gave him a curiously dreadful chill, and trying one last one was told that they had spots open for the soon following Friday, but they were not hopeful that many would show due to the late printing. He found this preferable and waited for the day to come as he did for any other day. It did not excite him. He reminisced on how it had been when he was growing up. There were only two ways that you got into a relationship and he avoided both. If you were lucky you ended up with your high school sweetheart; if you were unlucky your spirit was beat down until you eventually gave in to the match-making whims of your mother, likely to live a rather monotone life with someone you only tolerated. He figured now would be the case had he allowed it.

The high evening sun moved minutely down the fall sky turning it that characteristic yellow, until it got a little lower and became a cheery orange. He walked the early fall streets with the leaves just changing hoping to gain some new emotion from the experience. If anything he might have a fun story to tell Jeonghan when they met a few days later, and convince both he and himself that he had not lost touch so much that he wouldn't be able to come back. He entered a very small, family style restaurant. From the decor he could tell that it gave only the impression of one, but he knew every building and vaguely their owners, and this was only for show.

A handful of people had already arrived and were sat at one of the larger tables speaking together in clipped and nervous sentences that were pasted together with the grace of a fumbling tennis player. One topic was tossed here and there until it fell quickly and unceremoniously to the ground, forgotten and ignored in favor of one much more accessible and fresh. Jihoon joined and with an even number of people they separated into shy pairs with each individual becoming a temporary fairy tale of the person that they wished to be, but were only really 20 percent of. He spoke to a woman that asked very blatantly how tall he was, and became disinterested when he said 165 centimeters. The other five passed by in mere pleasantries, having found immense interest in someone that, Jihoon figured, fit their ideal physical type. The last man he felt some affection for - his eyes were sad in a way that Jihoon felt complimented his own - but they came up constantly empty and often had to build the conversation laboriously, on the basis of no common interests.

It ended at ten 'o clock. They all said awkward goodbyes to those they found mildly interesting and gave business cards to those they wanted to see again. Jihoon received neither. A young man mentioned they were closing in an hour and asked if he would like anything before they no longer served. Jihoon had a terrible headache from all the forced kindness that he had carried during the evening and declined. Looking up from where his head had been resting in his hands, Jihoon noticed that the young man had not gone away after his response, and he stared up at him waiting for some reason as to why.

"How did it go?" he asks slowly.

"What?"

"The—dates."

Jihoon starts. "Well—Not very well, I think."

The young man shakes his head consolingly.

"I've been around for 200 years and couldn't find a single thing to talk about with that guy," he said, trying to be polite. This was a slip, for when he looked into the black eyes of this young waiter he noticed how handsome he was. There was a single white shine in them like the first star on a dark night. His hair sat softly on his head in the same way it did a child's; compact and a little care free. His plush lips parted once more and said with a charming country-side accent:

"Aren't you going to eat? You were here for some time."

Jihoon shook his head. "—Not hungry—"

The young man's eyebrows arched toward each other in a look of kind pity. "Well, you are rather pale. Don't you think you 'aught to?"

Jihoon looked over himself. "I am," he said as if he had never known. "But I'd rather not." He was on the last bit of tuna blood that was going to hold him over for the next two days until Jeonghan could bring him more from the hospital. He made the impulsive decision to come back after then so that he might make sure this wonderful and pink person may never have to worry again in his life.

Three days later on at the exact same time he walked in with a curiously beating heart and a hypothetically full stomach. He drank an extra pack in-between his normal three a day so he might not look a little more plump and human. He didn't notice how seriously he had suddenly taken it until he had stopped just at the door. He stood for a moment and wondered if emotion had always been so strong as to put him into situations he hadn't even clearly thought through. He tried to consider what point would come of stepping in there and buying a few drinks he did not enjoy for the pleasure of a person he would know for five minutes at best. He sighed to himself and walked past so he might glance in the window.

The young man was there. He was sat talking to the person behind the register in an otherwise empty restaurant. Seeing him now again, emotion changed his mind. Now he were to argue against himself. If he went in it could be very quick and a little intimate. If he went past it would be all the same; quick and insignificant. Leaning toward the latter, the decision was made for him. The person who the young man had been talking with pointed him out with a slight nod of the head and the young man turned his bright face over and it went from a dull confusion to a lovely smile. Looking at that smile he noticed his heart began to beat as it had before, and with some freight and wonder it reminded him of his younger self. The somewhat innocent boy that travelled to a foreign country alone to doze in unfamiliar trains and yawn over scenery done up just for him like an oil painting. He was waved inside.

"It's you!" he said with half whispered elation.

"Yes—H'lo."

"If you came for another one of those date events—" at this Jihoon blushed. "You're a day early."

"Oh, no. I just came to—look."

"Look?"

"Yes. Just—look."

"Hm," he said thoughtfully. "Well, you can look for about half an hour more. We're closing early today."

Jihoon nodded, and then as if an after thought he asked: "Have you eaten dinner?"

The young man's eyes went a little wide, but he fixed his face back placid just as quickly. "No."

"Would you—like to go out to eat, then?"

He considered very seriously for half a minute, then he said plainly: "I haven't even gotten your name."

"It's Lee Jihoon." he bowed. "And you are?"

"Kwon Soonyoung."

They exchanged business cards and stared at the small pieces of paper more significantly than was necessary.

"Alright." he said finally.

"Alright?"

"Yes," he repeated a little quiet. "You're looking a lot better today. Was it just a cold?"

"Something like that," Jihoon said in a daze.

"Well, that's wonderful." He followed this with a smile that was now to be associated with the word wonderful as long as Jihoon could hope. It was very upwardly pointed and showed just a little teeth. It seemed like a present that was wrapped in embroidered silver and topped with a golden bow, then put into Jihoon's lap to be admired. The person behind the register must have discovered the general air that was coming about their gaze and suggested Soonyoung leave as soon as possible. With his belongings in his hands and a deep red glow to his cheeks they were leaving with the magical sound of a bell in tow.

They stopped at some actual small family restaurant that held 10 people at most. They were the only ones so late at night and Jihoon sat in comfortable silence as his new companion ate alone. Though Jihoon did not find it odd in the least he could tell that there was some hesitation in the other's eyes. He avoided addressing it by talking about a new michelin star restaurant he saw beginning construction the day before. He noted that that would be the first one in the neighborhood.

"Really? In such a big city?"

"Yes. Why, it's only the fourth restaurant on the block. Didn't you know?"

"I'm not from around here. I've only lived in the city for a year. From a little further east."

"Well—how old are you?"

"I just turned twenty-four," he said pleasantly. "How about you?"

"Ah, I'm the same age."

"Not 200?" he asked half sincerely.

For reasoning beyond Jihoon's comprehension, he was embarrassed. "Oh—no. I just said that. I've got an old soul."

"Oh, yes," he responded, as if they were two scientists in a lab and Jihoon had just stated a very well researched theory. "I think mine's is more young. Or maybe childish."

Jihoon figured as much. He kind of wished that Soonyoung had declined his offer for dinner, as his presumption would be that he was either very easily pleased or very forgiving. He attempted to push this realism from his immediate thought. "Do you always say yes to strange men asking you to dinner?"

"It happens a lot more than you'd think—but I do say yes to the handsome ones."

Jihoon blushed, but it did not assure him. "Is that not dangerous?"

"You speak as if I were a child," he said with a hint of bitterness. "I took taekwondo a great many years. I could snap you—" he paused as he looked Jihoon over. He was firm in many places and this was apparent from the form fitting but very covering clothes that he wore. "Well, I could snap most in half."

"I suppose so," he responded tactfully. "I just wish you'd live with a little more caution. Life is so very short... like a candle near an open window."

Soonyoung reached over and pat his hand comfortingly. "You've got a good eighty or so years left. With the rate that medicine is evolving maybe you'll be immortal before fifty."

Finding this at first ironic, Jihoon knew it ultimately to be untrue. He followed medical practice and the potential of life extension very closely. He hoped desperately, deep in his cynical heart that someone might spend the time alone together as he had, but not by his own mercy. He flamed that futile spark so he might feel closer to the wonderful man across from him, but he knew it was nearly impossible for two people so different in moral to meet in the middle without compromise. Quietly, he commented: "Just maybe."

They talked of mostly Soonyoung for the better part of an hour. How he finished school at home and wanted to try out the bigger city for some time. Be occasionally blinded by flashing lights while he was still young and free to make mistakes as he pleased. He mentioned that as he got closer to 27 he felt as if it were all slipping through his hands. Jihoon held back the inclination to laugh. He talked of humans as though they were just snaps of a finger but he never noticed how they sometimes themselves ran in place in much the same sense, but to a very certain end. Splendidly, Soonyoung took back everything negative he had said by concluding that the more he thought about it the more he realized that even mid-thirties was still quite young, and if you were lucky enough you could get around just as well at twice that age. He was flushed and tired from all the talking he had done. Jihoon payed the bill and they walked together out into the chill autumn night. There was a pleasant breeze in the air and if it were not for the bright advertisements concentrated in large clusters on the very sloped ground that the little neighborhood was built on, it might have been pitch dark outside.

"Well, I had a darn good time tonite. You might have asked me out the last time we saw each other."

Jihoon laughed, and for once it was genuine. "Why, me too. More than I have in—centuries."

"I'm glad—Mr. Jihoon," he smiled that kind way that could knock a person off their feet. "You can call me up anytime. I'll make room in my day as you please. Maybe we can show that old soul of yours a good time."

"Yes—And you might call me up whenever. I hardly ever sleep."

It would be only two days later that Jihoon's phone did ring and that country-tinged voice flowed into his ear like a song.

"I was supposed to entertain a whole group," he explained with what sounded like a twisted mouth. "But—I don't know, we're all a little moody and resentful for something that humans aren't aware of. Or so their inclinations to believe the weather would affect their travel is true."

Jihoon looked uselessly out the window. It was a very cloudy noon. "I see."

"Oh, I don't mean to make it seem so—tacked on. I hoped you might call up and I could ask you along."

"Well, next time I will. I'd call you everyday if you'd like."

Soonyoung let out a little "eep!" on the other side and then after a long pause, said: "You're quite forward, don't you think?"

"Ah—I'm sorry," he said quickly. He experienced emotions that what was left of his original brain could only fantasize. The rashness of his speech was only belatedly regretted, but that was fleeting in comparison to the immense rush of happiness. He promised himself to take it much slower.

"Why don't we talk about it when you arrive?" He told the tea house it was set at and his estimated time of arrival. They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment and then talked about the subway for no reason other than they didn't really want to say goodbye. Only when a harsh wind blew noisily out Jihoon's window that made him exclaim did he hear "Be right there!" and a click of the phone.

There were a few people their age sitting alone with piles of papers and a few books about them. They sat and stared silently at them all for a few minutes while they waited for their tea. Two different moments of reminiscing had struck them simultaneously. Drops began to form on the windows and float down at first like small tear drops, but growing quickly into rushes of miniscule streams. They poured themselves a cup.

"Maybe you're the nicest man I ever knew," Soonyoung began.

This made Jihoon a little depressed. He felt that he were experiencing intense peaks and valleys of emotion with this young man. He was constantly fighting the urge to break it all off. "Oh, you've hardly ever met anyone," he said in a sad sort of way, but not wanting to sound condescending, he added: "At our age we're just practically high schoolers. Just some kids that got free from the fence around the park."

"That's a nice way to think about it... But I'd say I've lived more lives than all the years in your poor old soul put together," he paused for a moment to bask in the implied significance of that phrase. "I've been engaged twice."

"Twice!" Jihoon exclaimed with some shock.

Soonyoung nodded his head. ''So you should trust me when I say I'm just as wise as any old so-and-so."

"How did—What happened?"

Soonyoung was not embarrassed in the least at the enormity of the subject. He seemed to grab it tightly and wear it like a badge; in the same way a security guard might a bullet proof vest. He told him very simply that he had ended up tangled with a girl he had began dating in middle school that lasted all the way until high school graduation. But back then, he explained, that kind of love wasn't the real thing. It was the kiddy stuff that you copy from what you imagined the comics were trying to show you in their four framed brevity that was just a break from whatever depressing news it was surrounded by for the adults that had already gone through life. They stayed unhappily together and engaged thinking that it would please their parents, but when he got accepted into the local college and she was going to a larger one in another town they realized that they didn't care one bit what their parents thought anymore, and they let the whole thing fade off like most childhood friendships do.

"That's—pretty sad," Jihoon commented.

"It was fine. We got along pretty well when we were together, but only in the same way a lion might get along with a tiger. They just know that they're both a little more safe from the wretched world with someone as strong as they."

"And—the other?"

"Well, try not to feel too sorry for me now."

He explained that this one had happened abruptly when he turned 21. He had that same feeling he pats back and forth now that he was wrung out and should just settle. Some young man that he met in his second year of college was pretty nice to him and promised they would go out and see everything there was in the big city over had they got together. Soonyoung didn't need all that, but he wasn't inclined to deny it either. They had their hot and cold moments but always he would get an apology or a long note. When he said yes he was pretty passive, but it seemed like his best option for the moment. After a month he began to recognize that his letters were coming in more sporadically and friends he called up were almost frightened to make any plans with him. When he confronted the guy he tried to make himself out to be the victim and when that didn't work he tried to bring Soonyoung down to his level. In the end he was too strong in character to let something like that happen, and telling everyone that he broke it off by throwing any sentimental gift in the nearest river, news spread the boy had withdrew from the school within the week.

"That's just terrible!" Jihoon exclaimed as he finished. "How could someone be so—"

"There's a lot of people like that these days," he said casually. "That's why I mean what I say to you."

"Well, you're very kind for it," he said evenly, thoughtfully. "You'd image it'd do someone like that some good to end up like I did."

Soonyoung's face twisted up expressly. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just sad. Just eternally sad and a little alone."

"Don't say that!" He whispered very genuinely. "Oh, you really know how to move someone. I'd wish you would never be alone again."

He tried to change the subject. "Don't go on pitying anyone just for one little line. Or maybe you should," he concluded reasonably.

"I can't quite figure you out."

"Sometimes I pray you never do."

"I'm always up for a good challenge. That's what these years in our life are for."

For two weeks straight, every day they took some late night meal or early dinner or in-between snack together. They got to know each other so well that even the talks of a day trip out to Soonyoung's hometown was mentioned in that way that sounds like a joke until it is genuinely entertained, lest it turn to an awkward conversation. No accounts of these were relayed to Jeonghan, but he did get constantly scolded for his abrupt lack of free time. One mention of how he only had so little time left with him and all together it stopped. He saw no one for three weeks, but working up the nerve from his depression, he called Jeonghan to his apartment so they might discuss Soonyoung. He began by telling him everything in detail.

"So, you call me here after all this time to brag, eh?"

"Jeonghan..." he paused moodily. "I think I'll just go back to how I've been for some time. What's the point at all if your time is so short?" his head lowered and moved side to side in a gloomy manner. "So short..."

"That's what this is all about?" he asked, as if he had just cried over an ant being stepped on. "You know that very well. You knew that when you started."

"I *d*id," he restated. "But even a pragmatist is allowed to regret."

"You knew and you went on anyway. You went on vey happy and filling your time. Even if you never died, what good would it be to waste all that time by brooding and locking yourself away?"

"But—it's *selfish*."

"For who? You can't go around thinking your so special just because it's been a few extra years," he sat down on this point, but finding more to speak on he began pacing in front of Jihoon again like a father scolding his child. "Why don't we all just give up? I'll die and whoever I love will die and not at the same time but eventually. The pain is there but still you are changed. You're pulling the cart all on your own and not even considering the horse."

"Then what do you suggest that I do?"

He sat for a long moment and considered, then that same look when they first met went into his eyes. "Well, you have to tell him."

Jihoon laughed incredulously.

"Fine," he put on his coat. The weather was now at a sustained chill and not even the bright evening sun could warm it. All the leaves had changed and were making great big piles on the ground that clogged up the drains and became a nice blanket to the rivers. "You can go on being wretched and sad and just hope I die every time I walk out the door."

To emphasize this point he slammed the door behind himself. Jihoon knew Jeonghan was right. He knew that Jeonghan knew he was right. It amused him partly, and he focused on it only so that the fear that was making his bones tremble with nervousness and joy and anticipation wouldn't seem so loud. He wrote a short letter out to mail to his unfortunately precious friend and began turning the rotary pad in a familiar way. It rang three times before it was picked up.

"Hello?" came a small voice that was a little sad. "If it's about the party this afternoon it's been pushed back a few hours."

"Hello," he said nervously, unsure how he would be received.

"Why—Jihoon?"

"I'm very——I'd like to see you. Could you come down to my apartment for—any time you'll give me."

"You've got some nerve."

"I was just—depressed. You know how I can get."

"I remember you saying you wish I hadn't."

"Oh, but now I do. And I'll tell you just about all of it. Then you can really decide."

"I've got—I've got this party and a few other things."

"I'll wait as long as it takes."

"You don't know how long you've made me wait. Really, I'd like for you to do the same."

"I've waited an eternity all my life and for you I'd do it a thousand times over."

He heard a muffled exclamation and then a large, trembling sigh far away from the phone. Only after several sniffles did it get picked up again. "Then you should have no problem waiting until tomorrow afternoon. I'll come after work."

"O-kay," he said eagerly, but fixed his voice to sound a little more unhappy so that it might make Soonyoung feel better. "Have a wonderful night."

"—Thank you," and then the line was cut.

At ten o' clock on the dot there was a call from the front desk that someone was waiting for him below. He gained a little courage when he noticed that Soonyoung had got off early. There was real anger to his words the day before, and Jihoon wouldn't have been surprised if he was strung along uncertainly for a few days extra. Not because it was something he expected Soonyoung would do, but because it was what he figured he deserved. He calmed his nerves with a few deep breaths, but when he stepped from out onto the sidewalk and saw Soonyoung there so dim and optimistic, he couldn't help how desperate he became.

"How have you been?"

"Fine," he said curtly.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I wish you wouldn't be. Not now."

"I'm sorry—I'm so very sorry."

Soonyoung made no response. His eyebrows were stuck in a permanent dip for the moment, and he avoided eye contact.

"If you wouldn't mind coming up to my apartment I can tell you everything," he walked up one step eagerly. "Yes, everything."

Soonyoung did not follow. "You can't do it here?"

"Not really."

"I just——I'm terribly sorry but I'm being a little more cautious."

"Oh," he said in a thousand ways with just one syllable. "Well, that's very good."

"So, what is it you'd like to explain?"

"It's a little difficult here—It would be anywhere, I suppose."

"It's getting to be late."

"Yes, okay. Well, please try to be a little open. I have only my word at your mercy," he looked around quickly and then said, first confidently, but finished the last sound with an octave drop. "I'm a vampire. Like in that book."

"What?"

"That first night when I said I was around for 200 years I was being very serious. I just didn't know how to say it without sounding crazy."

"You aren't doing a very good job now."

Jihoon felt a pressure build behind his eyes. "Just one moment," he thought quickly. He had left out a bag of blood so that he might show his teeth extending inside, but not expecting a refusal as was happening now he could only hope that his body comply. He opened his mouth wide and with some visible effort attempted to force them out on their own. The image was as though he were yelling very loud, but no sound was being produced. After much embarrassing strain, they extend feebly. "Do you see?"

"Did something change?"

His desperation grew. "Will you come just into the lobby with me? Just up to this mirror here."

With some hesitation, Soonyoung agreed. They walked at a fair distance apart up to the mirror and turning around on Jihoon's cue, Soonyoung started. He looked between the mirror and Jihoon's pale face multiple times in disbelief. Waving wildly he wondered if it hadn't been a mistake with the mirror, but putting his arm behind Jihoon's back it too did not appear connected to his body.

"Well—that's some neat party trick," he said at length. "But I think it's time I go."

"No! Soonyoung, you have to see I'm telling the truth."

"Even if you were," he said in a huff. "Oh, even if you were what has that got to do with me?"

Jihoon realized suddenly that he was giving proof for something only mildly important in comparison to his feelings. They walked back outside together and a sun in a sky that was mostly orange was settling quickly. The black of the night seeped into it like a rapidly burning candle, then each person became no more than a shadow of the moon.

"It's not just all those things. I can also live forever—I have," he broke off. "The last person I knew well was a nice tall young man. He lived to eighty-three—almost 90 years ago he died."

"That's impossible.."

"It isn't," he explained solemnly. Part of him wanted to give up and mourn the loss of Soonyoung now when it might not hurt as bad. He continued as passionately as if such was the case: "Well, I knew him. I was depressed for four years because of it. Then I knew no one for many more years after that, and then—you."

Soonyoung seemed to sway imperceptibly closer to him. "Me?"

"I went to that event more out of childish defiance. I gave up on the idea of knowing anyone before it even started. Then you came to me with your accent and your eyes—" Jihoon moved slowly closer, but recognizing it, he stopped himself. "Eyes that seem like when they look at you every kindness in the world is set there, and all humility ceases until you look away."

Soonyoung blushed and looked away.

"I have a long set predisposition to ice out anything that might cause me pain, because every day of my life has already become one—but to know you for even a minute in the large timeline of my existence would make it worthwhile to continue," he corrected himself. "It *has* made it worthwhile to continue."

Soonyoung's hand began to blot at his eyes. A great, thick tear escaped as he said: "Well, I suppose—I suppose I should thank you. And say you're welcome." He sniffed a few times and accepted a proffered handkerchief. "And I think a little more evidence is due but—you've got me." He held the handkerchief close to his chest. "You've got me—and you've moved me. Boy, you know how to move someone."

"I could say the same about you."

"This is all so crazy."

"It is," he agreed in a low, somewhat stupefied voice. He was scared that if he spoke too loud the night would crack and it would have all been a dream. "But I'd rather go on being crazy than sad."

"Oh, don't use that line on me," he said pleasantly. "You know I wish you'd never be sad again. Now come here and hug me."

They embraced for the first time, and the hum of the moon and the stars and all it's obedient shadows wept a soft song only perceptible to their lovely forms that looked combined together as one in their passionate cling.

---

The following day they spent the entire day together from 10 in the morning until 10 at night. Soonyoung arrived with no warning, and opening the door Jihoon was embarrassed to be still in his pajamas. The apartment was a single bedroom with the smallest kitchenette that it couldn't be considered more than a stove, a cooler, and a shelf. There was a medium sized piano that took up a quarter of the room and some very European chaise lounge chairs that surrounded a heavy looking oak table with many stacks of books on top. There were three windows that would have poured in heavy sunlight if not for the thick cotton drapes that covered them. It was not dusty but everything in the room gave the impression that the sun had hardly touched anything after it was brought in.

"So, you do sleep," he said bending down to press their faces together gently. Any questioning or protests were ignored momentarily as he walked around and observed everything in the house. It was filled neatly to the brim with things. Jihoon kept lots of things that reminded him of certain times or certain years and even certain popular events. He had the freedom to do what he wanted as he pleased and it was clear from the many oil paintings, the intricate tapestries, even some faintly foreign clothing that Soonyoung observed for a long while.

"Don't you work at this time?" Jihoon asked, with some exasperation. He was not used to someone intruding. Jeonghan had only been up twice and for very brief moments.

"I called in sick," he said quickly. "I am rather sick with curiosity. I stayed up half the night reading that book. Over and over."

Jihoon wriggled as a very old and expensive "Mother-of-Pearl" jewelry box was turned about. He tried to ignore his inclination to get annoyed. "What would you like to know first?"

"First.." he thought on this as moved over to a matching plate with a beautifully carved crane in the center. "Don't you want to—kill us?"

Jihoon winced. "I was human once, too."

"Sorry," he said genuinely. "Well, why don't you let's see some more proof."

Jihoon pulled a bag of blood from the cooler. "How about breakfast?" His teeth lengthened to a sharp point and punctured the bag like a toothpick might a marshmallow. In what would be considered three gulps it was gone. Passing his tongue over them twice, they went back to their short but naturally pointed appearance as if it had never happened.

"What does it taste like?"

"Nothing," he responded thoughtfully. "Or I guess like you would imagine. Only it doesn't bother me."

"Hm!" he exclaimed. "That's why you never eat when we're out together. Sometimes it hurt my feelings."

Jihoon started. "Why, I'm sorry."

"No, it's okay now," he watched closely as the bag was boiled so it shrunk up to an unrecognizable ball, and then tossed in the trash. "Don't you have something else?"

"Well," he pulled a photo album from a bookshelf. "I have something."

They flipped through and Jihoon explained each photo as they all intrigued Soonyoung to a fit of laughter and aweing and cooing. The further back it got the less pictures there were. The first thing in the book was a simple but very skillful painting clearly done in the traditional horse-hair brush. It was a small, chubby baby in the arms of a very serious woman. The eyes, the nose, even the small mouth! Soonyoung wished it were he that had been the painter. The date on the photo showed a very early year on the twenty-second of November.

"Is that your birthday?"

Jihoon blanched. He stopped celebrating that long ago. He had forgotten the word.

"That's in just a week," he said excitedly. "We should have a big — blowout!"

"Oh, no," he said decidedly. "I've gone a long time without that and it'd be meaningless to start now."

"Not to me."

"Well—" he was defeated. There was no arguing against this. He wanted to bend to every whim Soonyoung had. He would go slow and recognize the long time they had together but each decision had to be reminded, and that was difficult to focus on as of now. "I'd do a little something with just us. And my friend, Jeonghan." he tacked on as an afterthought.

"Jeonghan? Yoon Jeonghan?" This was confirmed. "He was married to my cousin for three years! He ended it fairly when they recognized that kids just weren't in his mind. I'd love to see him again."

The date was set and plans were made and a letter was written up; one side by the celebrated, the other by the planner. It seemed funny to bring together the only two people he knew. It also seemed scary. His depression got the best of him and he hid his gloom very poorly.

"I believe you now," Soonyoung said with some comfort. "And I'll be with you for as long as I can."

He felt a lump in his throat. "I appreciate that," he swallowed it with some difficulty. "But I still can't help wonder if you weren't wasting your time."

"I'll decide what to do with my time."

"It's just that I don't think I should go on putting myself in your business. You're so lovely and hold so much promise for a world so dim. It's not my fault that I got made a terrible wretch by some cold luck of fate, but I don't want to go on bringing other people in it's misery."

"The songbird doesn't ask to be put trapped in a little cage so that it's pretty tweets can be heard at all hours of the day," he said wisely.

"But it does turn to pieces when it goes mad."

"You're too smart to do that. I'll show you a little fun and then maybe you can go on doing it well after we're all gone. Maybe you can bring a little of that fun to the next generation."

"It's all such a crazy business when you talk about it out loud. I've never done that before."

"What was it like for you back then? How did it even happen?"

Jihoon explained the trip abroad, the sudden call from the dark underside of the bridge, and even the escape from the morgue. At this part Soonyoung rustled uncomfortably in his seat. He mentioned with increasing sorrow the passing of first his grandparents, then his parents, then his complete isolation. He did not age in the same way that his friends were. He didn't want to tell anyone and with no other logical explanation for the apparent lack of change in his appearance, he had no other choice but to move to a bigger city where he would be no more than a face in the crowd. He changed jobs every ten years and eventually found an opportunity to absolve him of that. The owner of his apartment liked him and appreciated his loyalty. Noticing that Jihoon did nothing but head to work and come home alone, he sensed that he was lonely. This seemed to be the perfect person to hand the building over to. He lived on what little money extra came from it and paid nothing in rent.

"I'm beginning to believe that I had actually died for some time."

Again Soonyoung stirred. "Let's not talk about that. Let's just be glad it all brought you here now to me."

The party happened late at night in the bar that he and Jeonghan frequented. When the couple arrived with arms locked and pink stained faces it felt like they were creeping through the blue night, around the yellow signs to announce a silent marriage as a family. Jeonghan jumped up and exclaimed three baffled profanities. The name had not been signed on Soonyoung's side of the letter and he said there were many people that he could have been in a relationship to their cousin. Least of all he expected this tan and lovely young man he had imagined to be some sort of big movie star by now. They sat together and drank, though Soonyoung declined any.

"What do you mean movie star?" Jihoon inquired after the niceties and teasing had settled to only every third sentence or as a way to fill the air.

"It was a silly dream of mines when I was younger," Soonyoung said.

"He talked about it all the time when he was younger. Told his girl they would live off of large checks in big houses," he laughed in the specific way that older people do when reminiscing on the forgotten childish memories of younger people. "I suppose that hadn't worked out."

Their blushes matched.

"I would have been good had I not gone on into dancing for some time, but then I stopped that as well. You have to have a lot of hate to get anywhere in that world."

"Wise words of a big shot!" Jeonghan exclaimed. He had gotten down five drinks by now. He helped Jihoon show off the thing he found so uproarious by suggesting they all do a little drinking game.

"Oh, I don't drink," Soonyoung said quickly. It was clear that he felt a little bad about it. "And—well—I don't think it's very good for you either. I've seen a lot of people go a little ruined because of it."

Jihoon considered this for no more than a minute before he pushed a fresh pint away from him. "I think it better we didn't than."

This had clearly brought them closer together now. It was not so significant because the alcohol had literally no effect on Jihoon, but Soonyoung couldn't fully grasp the idea and found it to be just as special anyhow.

"Yuck!" Jeonghan uttered. "Oh, to see my old sad friend be so different. How old are you now? I think that age is the one I look forward to most. It comes back around and you find the bliss of love as if it were the first."

Jihoon blanched. "Two-hundred and nine."

"When I'm two-hundred and nine I hope I'm as lucky as you."

The cake came from somewhere beside Jeonghan and surprised them all. There was not one expected since he did not eat. It was small and round and red on the outside, when they cut into it it was marbled with vanilla and chocolate. Jeonghan and Soonyoung split a piece, fed another two bites to a very reluctant Jihoon and then offered it to a group of college students that passed by. The night was one to remember and left no time for brooding. He had a good 80 years left. It seemed so long now, with a friend that seemed to understand his situation better than himself and a man so miraculous it made him human all over again. He would worry about his health and feel every emotion and get back some sort of desire. For now he was happy, and for once he did not care how long that were to last.

Half a year later the summer had began it's merciless beating of heat and rain and more heat. Jihoon had to explain that he found it best not to be outside when it was above 50 degrees, and if he must then he wore a ridiculous assortment of garments that embarrassed him to no end. He suggested Soonyoung go off and do something fun for the summer, experience things he could not with Jihoon and then come back home with a heart grown fonder by the distance. It seemed very easy at first. They rented travel books and brochures, called up travel agents and hotels. Soonyoung was set to go on a seven hour commute away around the refreshing island of Jeju. On days that were half bearable they walked through shops and markets with an umbrella and rejoiced in each other's presence and said yes to things just because that exact second seemed so sentimental it made sense to buy an item to commemorate the moment.

Bags overflowing and both elated they stood together outside the airport. Jihoon had carried most of them so Soonyoung could easier point at each thing he had planned to do and to check here and there that something very important hadn't grown legs and disappeared on its own accord. They sat in a little corner of the airport that was somewhat hidden behind a large pillar. The stewardess announced they were going to depart in half an hour and very abruptly it hit them. Now the talking of his plans would have to be only amongst himself; the imagined pair adventures would be pushed aside for the reality of his travelling alone; and for the first time in all their nearly year long relationship they would be apart for longer than a day.

"Would it be crazy to ask you to come along?" Soonyoung only half joked.

"Yes," Jihoon said quickly. "I want you to go on and do things without me. I want you to have a good time in place of me."

"Have you been before?" He felt ridiculous having never asked this in their week of planning. "If you haven't I want to go for the first time with you."

"Don't do this, Soonyoung," he said in a tight voice, eyes glossing a little.

"If we can't do it together what's the point of doing it at all?" he cried lowly. "Oh, I know the time shouldn't feel short but you know sometimes it does."

"It's only a week."

"My letters would only reach you in half that time."

"If you can't go on and do this then I can't go on either." Jihoon broke out, hoping it did not sound as mean as he felt it did. "We can be apart for some time, and you can go on and enjoy the sun like a normal person should."

He put his sad head on Jihoon's shoulder. "It's certainly possible. It's just that I don't want to."

"We can't let all that effort go to waste. I want you to go and tell me all about it."

They embraced quickly, and then separated anxiously when it was announced they could begin boarding. "Just for you."

"And maybe in the fall we can do something spectacular. We can go to your hometown."

These words were apparently magic. All the pent up tragedy they felt was now released in silent sobs. They apologized to each other for their foolishness and told each other it was alright and then apologized again. Boarding lasted 10 minutes longer as a few staff recognized the beauty of their sorrow and tried to hold the plane back. In the end Soonyoung could not bring himself to board, and still with smiling tear-stained faces they walked together to buy him a ticket for the next flight. Soonyoung helped him pick out a book to read while he was gone, then they pressed hands and gave a little piece of their hearts to each other for safe keeping. Jihoon was glad to know that it really was love, and on the subway home he started violently when he realized he had never told Soonyoung that.

It was previously agreed that they would not call each other and now Jihoon regretted it. He waited rather impatiently for Soonyoung's letter to come and he read it three times over when it did. It was two pages long and talked about a lot of exciting things that made Jihoon incredibly happy. Having charmed someone at a luncheon Soonyoung was invited to the party of some small Japanese island prince. The language barrier was no trouble for them, and helping in the planning of a party in one of the largest venues he's ever seen they danced from dusk 'til dawn. He tried to contain his confused anger at this, but a thousand images ran through his mind of all the people he could dance with and the experiences that prince might have had and—Oh, if only he had told him he loves him. That would have fixed it all.

He paced in front of the phone for an hour. At first he dialed and when asked by the switch phone operator where to be connected he hesitated for a long time, then said the residence of Yoon Jeonghan. Perhaps he would be able to talk this feeling out of him. He had never experienced envy like this - but that did not feel like the right word. He knew there was some other word for it. "Jealousy," he said aloud. "I'm jealous of some images I put in my own head over a trip I planned." The phone ceased it's ringing and the operator told him that he was not in, and likely would not be until the morning due to work. He paced a little more but controlled himself by writing up a letter with all his worries and then boiling it with his dinner. It made him feel better, but he would still try Jeonghan the day after tomorrow, just to allow him some rest.

They met that evening where they always did.

"How do?" Jeonghan began casually.

There were two pints set out and Jihoon hesitated when he reached for the handle. Then he pushed it away. "I better not. I wouldn't want him to worry."

Jeonghan looked about left and right. "I don't see him here now."

"Oh, dry up," Jihoon said a little touchily, then apologized. "I just have a bit of a worry."

Jeonghan grabbed both by the handle and drank from each alternately with greed. "Do go on."

"You know Soonyoung is away on that vacation," he began slowly. "Well, I got a letter that he's hanging with some—prince!"

Jeonghan laughed. "And so?"

"I haven't even told him I love him."

He was suddenly sober and serious. The mugs were pushed aside. "What do those have to do with each other, Jihoon?"

"Wouldn't you be a little worried?"

"I wouldn't be worried unless he wrote very plainly they were going to get married. Now what do you think those two things have in common?"

"I suppose just my own jealousy."

"And that's wonderful," he concluded. Again each pint was put in his hands and thrust in the air in a cheers. "You're human."

This held Jihoon over for the rest of the week. He was a little proud to be jealous until he read the letter again, then he was a little ashamed. It ended with "Longingly, Your Soonyoung," and he repeated the words to himself the whole night before his return. He hardly slept at all. At a quarter 'til noon he rented a taxi and left it purring on the curb while he waited for the twelve-fifteen plan to return and disembark it's passengers. It arrived at noon and after two handfuls of people walked past him, finally Soonyoung came out; very tan and happy and with wide eyes that looked for him helplessly until they were in each other's arms.

Jihoon did everything but carry Soonyoung to the taxi himself. Their eyes constantly found each other and they had the driver go around the long way just so they had more time together. When they reluctantly got out and put all of his bags - once only two but now grown to five - into his apartment, he showed each item he bought and the story of how he came about it. He tried hard to not spend so much, but each time he saw something interesting or cute he wondered if Jihoon wouldn't want one to match. After that he spent most of his time at some beach or dinner or dinner on the beach. The waves and the Sound that came from it seemed to be everywhere. It was the island's own charming little white noise, and he hoped some day they could go together and experience it.

"I completely forgot to tell you," Jihoon said casually once Soonyoung began running out of things to tell - his sentences all started with "Let's see, what else did I do.." - and hoped that doing it in a somewhat carefree way would make him less embarrassed. "I love you."

Soonyoung let out a little gasp, and then smiled. "I love you, too—Oh!" he lunged over onto Jihoon and they went tumbling back into a now emptied suitcase. "To think I had just came back from telling what felt like the entire world yet I hadn't told you."

Jihoon was very happy, and he lay uncomfortably atop the unforgiving bag so they would not have to separate for even a moment. "What do you mean?"

"For two days straight I think it was all I said to anyone. There was no 'Hello,' or 'How do you do?' from me. Each sentence started with 'I'm here because the man I love could not be.' and everyone found it so lovely. Even the prince said he felt inferior - or at least that's the sense I got from him. I could never really know."

"I guess we just already knew. Maybe we didn't really need to say it at all."

But a subtle shine came about both of them when they said it again and moving into a more comfortable position it was all that they said to each other as they lay together staring at the white ceiling as if it were hung with all the stars in the sky.

The summer continued for two more months that went by insignificantly, but it did not worry them one bit. The days were filled with love and love making, the nights with rushed adventures to shadow covered parks and faintly lit rivers. When the temperature dropped they began to nervously hint at the aforementioned trip home, but neither brought it up until the stiff breeze stayed and the tree leaves turned a little orange at the ends. Just as suddenly Jihoon was a little afraid of it. He could recognize that it was something significant and it would mean something bigger than he could imagine - and not being able to imagine what scared him most of all. He hid this from Soonyoung. When the topic was hinted at he averted it severely.

Once by accident he said something that he did not entirely mean to avoid the subject, but it did not get rid of it. It in fact led to it and the ideas became married and inseparable. Soonyoung had mentioned that he missed the pulled dough stew from his childhood neighborhood and was met with a stupefied silence. They were walking around outside Jihoon's apartment in the blue dusk.

"Have you had that before?" Soonyoung asked pleasantly.

"I don't think so."

"I love my mother, but I think you can only get a really good one from an old restaurant."

"Hm," Jihoon replied, a little awkward.

"And there's one we'll have to visit called—" he broke off, trying to remember the name. "Something octopus... Oh, I'll know when we go."

They had gone completely around the block and the steps to Jihoon's apartment were in sight. "Are you coming up?"

"Sure, I might even stay the night if you aren't too tired."

"I could never be tired—of you."

"That's perfect—for the trip."

Jihoon was a little exasperated by this, but he was also sorry he was too scared to share the enthusiasm. They went up together in silence and when he opened the door suddenly Soonyoung said:

"Now that I think of it you would love my parent's home. It's a little like yours," he paused thoughtfully at this. "I guess that answers the question of most old people sort of turning out the same. But, really, you'd find it just as picturesque."

"Well, why don't you just—live here?" he said a little quiet. It was a kind of joke, but it did not sound like it because he was afraid to put any emotion in his voice at all. Then he blanched at the enormity of his question.

Soonyoung was stunned. "Should I?" he tried to brush it off with a three-toned and very forced laugh. "That would be nice, but—" he came up short on an excuse. "Well, I guess it would just be nice."

Jihoon had made his bed, and he figured now he might as well lay in it. "I'd like that."

"How about we think it over? We can stay at my parent's house and if it doesn't drive you crazy—Let's do it."

The two ideas were now declared inseparable. Jihoon didn't think it would end up like this, but he hadn't thought at all. Now he didn't want to take it all away because deep in his nervous heart he was ecstatic at the thought of them having even more time together. He decided it was best to show his worry about it.

"Don't you think they'll dislike me?" he waited for no answer, suddenly remembering something much more pressing. "Should we tell them?"

"That I love you?" Now it was Soonyoung's turn to blush. "I'll try."

"Not that—"

"Oh - I find it's nobody's business but your own."

"And yours."

"Nope," he said easily. "It's only hardly mines. I should thank you that you told me but it doesn't affect anything but your diet."

"I see," he said tactfully, but he felt that with the way things were going all business was now Soonyoung's entirely. He did not realize it in that moment, but in the distant future it would be so forever.

They left on a cold Monday night just before the last train. The car was filled so that they had to stand. Every person had a thin jacket that wasn't buttoned all the way as if they all waited in useless anticipation to throw it off and invite the summer sun back with open arms. As the train stopped and more people got off, that confidence seemed to break when they realized it was nearly impossible. A button was done up again or a hat was materialized and added at a fashionable tilt. When it was their stop and they came up the stairs into the dark autumn street a subtle wind made them superfluously shiver. During the transfer to the night bus they held hands as if to console the town during the changing weather.

After an hour they arrived to the front door and though he was nervous, Jihoon could only smile and bow for the first half hour they were in Soonyoung's parent's home. They squealed in delight when they saw each other and hugged every ten minutes. Every question that was asked came cautiously and non specific. Soonyoung knew Jihoon's personality and answered every question, even some pointed exclusively for the latter to answer. Jihoon said no more than "Yes," for the entire night, and when they were finally relieved behind a closed door he realized they did not in fact ask their relationship beyond how they met. He was a little surprised, but found himself considering Soonyoung's words of when they first went out together and the truth of them. His parents trusted him so much that no qualm was made by any part of the ordeal.

They were only to stay four days. On the first they all sat around and reminisced as families do when they see each other for the first time in a long time. They started with the last time they saw each other, which was a little over a year ago during the holiday that would be happening next week, and then it only made sense to recount every day before then up until just before Soonyoung's conception. They had pictures and artifacts, and a lot of times would make a great theatrical show of some funny thing that Soonyoung had done as a child, for apparently he had many of these. They would only break from their stories when the couple left to eat together, and that consisted of walking down to some fish market, but there would be long conversations there as well, about how big Soonyoung had gotten or how handsome he was or how the city had changed him a little.

Jihoon felt like a child being taken through a store where he could only stand back silently and watch as two old friends caught up. By the time the moon was full and high in the sky Jihoon had never known a person better in his life. They lay in a bed a little too small, side by side, and he reached out to hold him. He had wanted to avoid doing so out of respect to his parents and partly out of nervousness, but he wanted to show his gratitude. They woke the next morning in that same position, though the door was noticeably cracked when it hadn't been before and Jihoon felt a little rush of dread.

When they went out for breakfast all seemed the same, but every so often Soonyoung's parents would congratulate him out of the blue. Each time he would avoid Jihoon's eyes. In the afternoon when they came back from a sentimental tour, there was a small piano with an open top added to the living room. They explained that it was given to them by a neighbor to be fixed up and sold at their leisure. The only thing wrong with it was the wood had corroded so that the top fell off and the back was chipping. Soonyoung played chopsticks on it for ten minutes and then had Jihoon sit down to join him. With some embarrassment Jihoon admitted to knowing how to play, then tacked on a list of other instruments casually when inquired. Everyone was awed. He played a waltz, gave an encore, supplied a lullaby that rose up through the run down piano and was carried lightly across the fall air with accompany by the crickets.

The next morning he declined to play it again, but when they all went out on a walk together and stopped by a music store a clarinet was rented and seemed to be passed and admired around by the family as though it were already playing itself. When they arrived home Jihoon followed helplessly as a blanket was grabbed and then they walked along one after another into the backyard to sit on the blanket in the grass. He opened the case and tuned it with a great many honks and whistles. When he took a deep breath and began to play he only opened his eyes once during the minute performance, and when he had they were watching in near child-like wonder. They hugged close together and swayed a little. After he finished they clapped and exclaimed and for once when they gave Soonyoung an enigmatic congratulations he agreed whole heartedly.

Though largely embarrassed, Jihoon was happy that this was how their final day had ended. He felt a tearful irony that all the years of lonesome practicing had amounted to something so intimate and spectacular. A personal concert for people that were now very important to him. They admitted that they heard the ghost of his performance the entire night, and it became a personal little lullaby that they hoped to remember for a long time. He could only promise to play it for them as long as he was around, which made Soonyoung start. They all had a deep sleep that is only acheived when you are very happy or satisfied or in love. All of these things seemed to apply to them. The walk to the bus station was solemn but still pleasant, and they exchanged glances that said a thousand sorrowful goodbyes and made Jihoon hug them politely but with no restrain. When the bus arrived and they got back into the taxi he somewhat helplessly whispered to Soonyoung: "Do you think announcing our moving in together would be of some comfort?"

Soonyoung put his arms about Jihoon's shoulders and shook his head side to side. "I think you're the nicest man I know."

"I think--I think I'm the luckiest guy around," he responded emotionally.

They began the moving process the day they got back, but, to Jihoon's surprise there was hardly anything to be done at all. He was very ready to be instructed on everything that need to be packed and bring many a boxes that they would have to find space for but when one box was filled, Soonyoung was apparently tired. He began a donation box that Jihoon could have sworn he mistook for the keep, but when he asked him it was plain that he did not want the items. Didn't he find them cherishable? No. Didn't he want to hold on to them for a little while longer, at least for sentimental value? Not particularly. Didn't he at least want to entertain the idea? If it would make Jihoon feel better, he would. It did not.

What normally took at least three days took them no longer than an evening. A large car was rented before they arrived and was leaving with only four measly boxes as they left. You would imagine he had been living in a show suite the entire time, seeing how he left all the furniture besides a Japanese style mat that he apparently used to dance on. Soonyoung explained he had been to Jihoon's house enough to know that he did not need a lot of things. It made Jihoon a little sad to see, but he lightened the mood by convincing them both he was secretly happy. His house was already rather full.

Two years passed by like this. They spent every evening in each other's arms or waiting to be in each other's arms or it was like now, where they got into a rare fight that showed their stubbornness and Jihoon's easily bruised vanity. Soonyoung had found a small leather notebook that, when he flipped through the pages, revealed a list entitled: "Things I Wish Soonyoung Wouldn't Do." He brought it to Jihoon.

He was shocked. "Why do you have that?"

"It was sat on the table. I thought it was a book." This was only half true.

"Books are not hand-written, Soonyoung."

"Well—You know my curiosity is like that of a cats," he broke off. "But what did you mean by this?"

"Can't I have just a little privacy?"

"On a subject about me?"

"See here," he took the book and opened it to the page, then flipped it. "It says 'but I would never tell you, because you endure things like that when you're in love.'"

"Oh," he said in a high, embarrassed tone. "Well, you should have told me about it anyway."

"You would brood on the subject and then I would brood that you were angry at me at all and then we would both be unhappy."

"Add that to your list then. 'Broods on things that are objectively true.'"

They lie together that night with faces almost chiseled into vaguely angry expressions and only when Soonyoung began to nod off and struggle to keep his heavy lids open did Jihoon finally break. He admitted it seemed only fair and a little healthy and he was sorry for the whole thing. Anything that was his was also Soonyoung's and he didn't want him to feel like he couldn't look through something in his own home. Soonyoung's eyes were now stuck closed and any words he attempted to form his mouth around got trapped in an exhausted throat. He reached blindly for Jihoon's hand, brought it to his mouth to kiss, and fell promptly limp asleep.

Three months later it would happen again. Jihoon opened the door for Soonyoung at half past eleven when he knocked, and he found it odd until the door opened and he looked down. There was a small brown dog by Soonyoung's feet that had short, course fur and an affinity to bark whenever Jihoon spoke. Soonyoung's face was apologetic.

"You know I do not want a dog."

"I would have never known unless I asked, but—Jihoon!" He reached down and picked the dog up. It licked his face happily. "He was just on the street and began to follow me back even though I told him to sit and—"

"So he isn't trained?"

"Let's think of a name."

Jihoon wanted no part of it. He began picking up fragile things that were at what he thought would be a dangerous height for a careless animal.

"I like the name 'Latte,' don't you?"

Jihoon took a tapestry that was hanging from the couch into their room and shut the door. Soonyoung followed him shortly. "Can't you be a little kind?"

"I would be kind to you any day, but I need time on this," he said, frustrated. "I'm not opposed. It looks just like you and really is very characteristic. You'd look like you had him your whole life, but it's a big change for me in my many years and I need some time."

Soonyoung walked over and kissed his head. "I'm going to brood over this, you know."

"I expect as much."

"But, of course, again you are correct."

"And you are—incredibly human."

"What does that mean?"

"Oh—just that I love you."

The dog was showered with things the following morning and training lessons were scheduled for every weekend. It took some time for Jihoon to come around to the idea of the dog at all. It felt more like competition than it had a pet. If it was not asleep it would whine for Soonyoung, and having no affection for it, Jihoon put it in it's cage and covered it with a blanket. He had never had a dog, and found them to be a little like babies with half the intelligence. This was not true, and when Soonyoung arrived home and saw what he had done he cried. Jihoon lied and said he had only done it to help the dog sleep, but Soonyoung left for a walk for a long time and did not even face him when it was time for bed. Jihoon was decidedly kinder after.

They had eleven good years with the dog. They even once took it on a trip with them to Naples, but not enjoying themselves, and with Jihoon's inability to shake his fear of south-west Europe they cut the trip short. He imagined that he had never seen a dog treated so well. It was fine that half the time they would normally spend together became time that Soonyoung now spent with the dog, for near your early thirties you go through a process of sobering in terms of love. They still clung together late at night and made love into the early morning, but Jihoon found more time to spend with Jeonghan talking of nothing in particular and learning what it was like to age. His friend had gained a particularly serious lover, but refused to tell any details on the matter or hardly even address it.

When the decade was coming to a close and it was very clear that Latte was getting to be old and tired and even faintly blind, all time was allotted to the poor dog. Even Jihoon had found himself spending a little more time with it, though he knew it was superfluous and more of a test of his handle on death. He was not very close to the dog, but he learned to move from pleasant toleration to affectionless love for the sake of Soonyoung. Playing in the park was a laborious process of calling the dog until she came, then telling her to go find an object or to run toward Jihoon's voice. After awhile when she became too blind to have any interest in toys Soonyoung began to cry himself to sleep. Jihoon comforted him somewhat awkwardly, for he did not understand such intense emotion over a dog. He know it was a little heartless, but after a few months it felt like they were mourning the dog while it was still there.

At a monthly check up the vet informed then solemnly that this may be their last. The dog had liver issues that went apparently undetected. It seemed to be progressing at a rate that would have been useless to medicate now. They did anyway. Four months later she hardly got up to eat and Soonyoung had taken a week off work to practically puppet her. He carried her to the food bowl, water bowl, even began putting diapers on her. Jihoon could only watch silently from a distance and wonder if he would be like that; but it all seemed so silly to do over an animal. One night she refused to eat, hardly even lifted her head.

"Can't you—Doesn't the bite work on animals?" He asked lowly and with a wild look in his eyes.

"Soonyoung..."

"Just try, won't you?"

Jihoon shook his head side to side.

"For me."

"It wont heal her, Soonyoung. If anything she'll live in that pitiful state for the rest of time."

He moved away from Jihoon's embrace. "You never liked her."

"I did—to some extent."

"You never liked her and now you——Now you don't even care if she's dead."

"That's not true, Soonyoung." They sat together on the floor next to the weakly breathing dog in it's bed. Against his better judgement, Jihoon said: "Maybe you're taking this a little far."

"What?"

"Well, I know it's your first pet so, of course you would be depressed, but you learn eventually that you can't go on crying over every animal or you'd run out of tears."

"Oh—!" he cried, with what seemed like all the disgust he was capable of feeling. "This is not just 'any animal.' It's Latte."

"Yes, and I'm very upset about it," he paused, embarrassed at his own blatant callousness. "But—you—when you request something——fairly absurd as to turn a little dog—"

A sharp look shut Jihoon's mouth tight. Words came from Soonyoung very weakly as if he were feeling everything the dog was. "You've seemed to have lost your humility. I'd appreciate it if you go out and find it."

The words hurt worse than any heart break. He knew it was somewhat true, but now was only afraid this would be the end. "Soonyoung, I'm sorry—I'm very sorry it's happening but you have to try and realize——"

"Please leave," he interrupted coolly.

Jihoon went to Jeonghan's apartment. He wasn't home, and was told by the front desk that he was out of town for a few days. This was something that he had apparently been in the habit of doing recently so they predicted he would be gone for at least three days more. Jihoon was glad he did not need to sleep, and began a long walk through the city. When the lights started to dim and there were few people in the streets he took a bus to the city center and walked around where the streets seemed always to be filled whether by people or music or even construction. Toward the end of the night he sat by the river and watched the sunrise in an unceremonious way where it peaked out, but then slowly rose into obstructing clouds and fog as if to only accentuate the coming rains gloom.

At half past nine he called up to the apartment at a phone booth. It only picked up on the last ring.

"How are you?"

There was a long silence. Jihoon thought maybe it had been disconnected. Then finally he heard a sniff.

"I know it's foolish."

"It was a desperate act of love. Anyone would act the same."

"Would you?"

"Maybe I overcorrected a little too much. I don't want it to look like I'm unfeeling."

"You used to get so depressed over just the thought of knowing me."

"It was the dread of losing someone you know. I guess I never really knew her well. I'm sorry."

When he got back the idea of a funeral had been in both their minds and needed no discussion. A hole was dug in the yard and her body was covered. There was no grave, it felt odd to both of them to put one there. Soonyoung said a few heartfelt words in a low voice that was coarse from crying, but now had no tears left. Jihoon performed on an old dust covered clarinet the same song that he had for their parents. Soonyoung had liked the idea when it was presented to him. She would go on sleeping for eternity with the lullaby they all had engrained in their hearts. Now she would be ingrained there too. Maybe deep in the night it's tender notes would float on the air followed closely by her soft howls. Soonyoung never really recovered from the sorrow of that loss. They never even entertained the idea of another pet, and Jihoon noticed that for some time they avoided going to cafes.

On Soonyoung's fortieth birthday they went on a trip to northern Alaska. It had been his idea that they go out somewhere nice and see new things, but because he was born in a month so hot it took a lot of consideration and planning to find somewhere Jihoon might be comfortable. The whole trip seemed to bring an ironically childlike wonder back into their hearts. They saw animals and fish they only heard about in books and got to walk around in scenery so cold and breathless that it made them wonder if maybe their worries weren't so trivial after all. The sun didn't even seem to rise, it only poked it's head out as the clouds danced by and let the rays illuminate off of them so that it could make a little sun shower and then passed off with the wind to make room for the next billow of wisps that would do the same thing the next day.

They tried many things for the first time; fishing, plunging, rock climbing, but fell into a deep love with birding. It seemed romantic to them at a glance, but when broken down to the description of walking around in search of bird calls they figured they would save it for something to do if the weather ever ruined some other plans. Just near the end of their trip that exact thing happened, and breaking out a small brochure with the common birds and areas they frequented, they found it to be the most intimate hobby they ever tried. They spotted birds in pairs or flocks that excited them. Once they found a rotund brown bird doing a strange thing that looked like an inability to take off, but a guide explained it was a Ruffed Grouse likely doing a mating dance.

They felt bad that they had never considered that birds could be in love, but it became a little mission that they learn each of the many birds mating dances. They quizzed each other to recall as many as they could while they packed their bags to leave, happy and childish and with a new profound deepening of their understanding to love. They practiced a few on their own deep into the twilight, regretting the night did not have more hours for them to continue before the moonshine and the sand man whispered that spell that made their eyelids so heavy.

At fifty it was very apparent that the time had gotten to only one of them. Soonyoung had crows feet and deep laugh lines and his hair was a little gray on the sides that he was a little shy about when Jihoon pointed it out. It happened once that while eating out the waiter had mistaken Jihoon's short hair cut for that of a school boy's, and when it was assumed that Soonyoung was his father they went through the emotions of dread, laughter, and intense loathing in rapid succession. Here now would begin the spontaneous joke that Soonyoung thought to be funny no matter how many times it was told. "Do you hear that?" he would ask. There would be some siren jumping and twirling in the air in a sort of obnoxious way. "They're coming for me..!" It was funny the first few times, Jihoon had admitted, but it was added onto the list of things he wished Soonyoung would not do. In the end, he didn't comment on it. If it were some comfort to him that they should joke he looked "too old for Jihoon," it would go on for as long as he liked.

Another happy decade passed by; Soonyoung was out of work now. Jihoon tried not to seem so worried and concerned, but it felt impossible to hide when he would run around doing everything for Soonyoung so he might not have to strain himself. They no longer got into hushed arguments or had sudden outbursts; Soonyoung felt he was too weathered for that. He just took one of Jihoon's hands into his own and explained he was still young and spry and didn't want to build any resentment. Jihoon would sit quietly next to him and rest their heads together and think for a long while. It felt so odd. If you told him that just a month ago they were climbing slippery mountains and relaxing in high altitude hot springs he would be none the wiser. Now even a trip to visit Soonyoung's parents in the hospital was so tiring that they stayed a week in a nice hotel doing nothing in particular to rest from the two hour long commute.

Jeonghan would visit them randomly with a dried up mouth that stretched and puckered as it grinned or harangued. He had a very healthy way of growing old and allegedly dyed his hair so that Jihoon sometimes suspected that this lover he never revealed to them was some other eternally youthful person that had agreed to help him live forever as well. The only thing that gave it away was the brace he wore around his left hand. He had early on-set arthritis that was being medicated until it was serious enough for surgery. They sat around and did overexaggerated hoarse voices like the old people had on television, then Jeonghan would baby them as if they were all eternally stuck at the ages they first met until the sun rested comfortably in the distant bath of a maroon sky reminding them it was time to go off to bed and reminisce on the days that had gone by without a neglected minute. It still was irrevocably disappointing, and even Jihoon himself felt envy for his everlasting youth.

In his mid-eighties, Soonyoung had noted that now they were all each other had. His mind wasn't as clear as it had been before and he found it a little difficult to come at topics with the same tact. He had that naturally occurring carelessness that you felt when you were old and knew that one foot was in the grave. He found nothing wrong with saying this, but when Jihoon once stated that he too felt that he was aging along with him and perhaps would pass along soon after, it became a whole ordeal that was promised to never be spoken on again. A week passed and it slipped from both of their minds. They were sat side by side on Jihoon's new electric piano that made all sorts of funny noises and in a tenderly romantic moment in which Soonyoung's arms lay atop Jihoon's so that he could feel the fluid motion across the keys as it sang. They stopped mid way to kiss passionately and much to Jihoon's dread an ambulance was passing in the distance, causing the ends of Soonyoung's mouth to creep up into a grin.

"They're coming for me! Oh, I've got to leave town," he said rapturously.

Jihoon broke out in a fit of inconsolable sobs. Soonyoung knew there was nothing he could say to make it better. That was the last the joke was told.

All stayed fine the same way a cup can get filled up to capacity and then be added to drop by drop and only precariously continue to stack higher until you were not sure when it would be enough and the spill would begin. That day was a winter night after Soonyoung found he could not get around without a cane. He was very diligent about taking every medicine and pill he'd been prescribed because when he didn't, Jihoon would get a far away look and stay clung to his arm. He knocked one of the capsules over just out of reach and, beginning to feel like a burden in his less capable body, got up to get it on his own. With a great huff he was able to stand, with a prolonged groan he was able to kneel down and lift it—but that was as far as he could go.

"Why, Jihoon," he said mildly, embarrassed and reluctant to ask for help. "It seems I'm stuck like this." When there was no response he got louder. "Jihoon!"

Quickly appeared the pale young man. He saw the situation and seemed to swallow a worried exclamation. Soonyoung was helped up and back onto the soft wool chair that replaced one of the chaise lounges so he would have a comfortable place to doze. "You should have asked me to grab it."

"If I can't get up and grab a little bottle——" this went unfinished.

This was the moment. It was clear from the glossy and hard look of Jihoon's eyes. He disappeared for a minute to dig deep into a dresser drawer that was near the floor. He knew Soonyoung would likely not be able to go through it. When he came back he could not stop the thick tears that fell from his eyes. He kept his voice even by occasionally sighing very heavily.

"Soonyoung—Dear Soonyoung," he sighed, "I'm sorry if it's difficult to hear but I've thought about it for a long time now—the longest my life has ever felt." He pressed something long and sturdy wrapped in a cloth into the gaunt hands of his lover. They opened it slowly. Both gasped a little. It was a wooden stake. "I'm sorry we have such a hard time saying it. I'm not sure when you may—pass. But I'd like to go along with you. I'd like for us all to be together and happy and just sleep." He had worked up the emotion now. Even his tears held back respectfully so he could finish. "I can't go on and be human again after you're gone—I won't know humility or love or hate. I think all this time all I ever did was so that I could know - you."

The tears had already blurred his vision. "Me?"

They could not pretend to describe their feelings. They were not sure anyone on Earth had been in the same situation as they. For now Soonyoung hugged the package into his arms and wept like a child. When he agreed it was all set up. Jihoon had already gotten a will written up leaving any income to be divvied between local dog shelters. All of his belongings deemed worthy were to go to the museum in Soonyoung's home town. The city would go on living and changing and growing without the sad eyes of a young man that had been there much before half the buildings. The seasons would change not knowing that they were missing out on the rapt sound of a trained clarinet and the accompanying claps of soft, loving hands that praised it. The moon and it's stars and it's shadows would miss the familiar presence of two romantics that never learned to be anything other than in love.