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Life is chaotic and noisy—maybe even troublesome at times. There's always too many voices talking at once, too many people rushing into the subway carriages during rush hour, and too many advertisements screaming at your face.
Oftentimes, Youngjae felt alienated from the city. Perhaps it was because he grew up in a rather rural area, a lot more tranquil and quiet than the bustling streets of the city. Perhaps, that's also why he found comfort in books and libraries when he first moved in. It was where he could experience the same quiet he remembered hazily from his childhood. The rough texture of each page on his favorite books grounded him in ways that couldn't be replicated by screens.
When he was still in university, he found himself taking a part time job in the local library just near his shared apartment with his then roommate.
He simply fell in love with the tranquility it offered, especially with a reasonable salary for a part time college student at that time. The community library wasn't always crowded since many of the students from the nearby universities preferred studying in their respective university libraries or cafes. And it wasn't like the community library was big enough to accommodate so many students as well.
It was the perfect place for Youngjae who then sought for a sanctuary in the middle of the chaos.
At around the same time, he met Han Jihoon.
He likened him to the warm sunlight that seeped through the frosted glass near his favorite booth.
Bleached hair, warm smile, rosy cheeks. Han Jihoon, walking towards Choi Youngjae in the empty library at 8AM. It had been a slow morning with a welcoming breeze and the warmth of a forgiving morning.
“Hi, where can I, uh, get a library card?” Jihoon had asked, then.
Youngjae, with practiced politeness and sincere love for his job, graced Jihoon with a smile and handed him a slip to fill out.
For some reason, he couldn't forget the name Han Jihoon after that day. He remembed each stroke of the pen as he watched the boy fill out the slip then. He remembered the cute picture in the ID card he handed out for identify verification.
Jihoon, likewise, returned to the library regularly to see the pretty part-timer. He noticed that Youngjae liked to sit on the regular desks unless someone was had a concern to be handled on the main counter. Still, Jihoon failed to catch his name. So when he first checked out a book for overnight use, he made sure to memorize the three syllables on Youngjae's name tag.
Choi Youngjae.
That has been imprinted in his heart ever since.
It all happened slowly and naturally. It was calm and fun and everything Youngjae thought love should be. It was exhilarating and overwhelming in the best ways, just as Jihoon had expected love to be.
From polite smiles and shy greetings, Jihoon grew bolder and began to ask Youngjae about his day while he checked out or returned books. His window was quick, and so he often borrowed something even when he wasn't sure he'd have enough time to read it. However, as he realized Youngjae liked to strike a conversation over the books he borrowed, Jihoon made sure to have actually read everything before returning said books to the library. He always made sure he had something profound or remarkable to say, although it's always the more trivial and silly things Youngjae had something to comment about.
Jihoon has also found himself fumbling his words a few times. He would curse himself in his head, but Youngjae's laughter would always melt away everything he's ever worried about.
Initially, he wasn't even a bookworm. Far from it, actually. He simply chose to study in the community library because he heard that it's not as crowded as the other study spots. While he liked people, he couldn't focus when his friends were around or when there's simply too much noise. Furthermore, he didn't want to waste money on overpriced coffee when he could be using it to pay for his dance classes instead.
And so, with a quick search in the Maps app, he found his way onto the community library where Youngjae was, glasses hanging low on his sharp nose bridge, with sunlight gently kissing his face. He glowed at that moment, his skin golden and the contours of his face accentuated by the shadow casted by the light from the window.
Polite greetings turned to small talks. Small talks became longer, more personal chats, which in turn became Jihoon waiting for Youngjae to finish his shift so they could grab a bite and go for a late night walk.
It all fell into place as if it was the most natural thing to ever occur. They fell into a rhythm without even trying, because perhaps that's what love is—naturally-occuring, without having to feel as though you're exerting any effort.
Or perhaps Youngjae was simply that easy to love, and Jihoon had a lot of affection to give.
Soon enough they went home together almost every day. At night, Jihoon would be in the library after his dance classes, hanging out for a bit until Youngjae finished his shift. They would grab a quick dinner and Jihoon would walk Youngjae to his apartment. They'd separate, and about 20 minutes later, they'd be on their phones, wishing each other a good night and sweet dreams.
🍂
The weather is nice.
The temperature is warm, the wind gentle, and birds are chirping.
Youngjae laid on the couch of the living room, a throw pillow comfortably on his lap as he found himself rereading one of his comfort books. On the coffee table, he has warm tea. Faint smoke rises up and the relaxing smell fills his senses.
From the bedroom, he hears the sound of footsteps growing louder. It warms his heart. He knows it's Jihoon making his way towards him.
Youngjae looks up at his boyfriend briefly, and then goes back to his book.
Jihoon sits on the edge of the couch, gaze warmly fixated on Youngjae. He sits there quietly, his hair a bit messed up and his lips slightly pouty.
Years ago, Youngjae would have pushed Jihoon aside, even as a joke. Now, though, he giggles, setting aside his book onto the coffee table and inviting Jihoon with open arms.
To which the younger obliges, naturally molding himself around Youngjae. He feels his skin and flesh, warm and tender, against his touch.
“Youngjae hyung…” Jihoon mumbles, his voice still laced with sleep.
“Mhm, yes, baby? How was your nap?” Youngjae responds, his hand automatically finding its way on Jihoon's soft hair.
Jihoon buried his face onto the crook of Youngjae's neck then nodded. Okay.
They stayed like that for a while.
Quiet. Content. In love.
When sleep had completely left Jihoon's body, he lifted his head, now hovering above Youngjae. Their position was a bit awkward—with Jihoon basically only slumped on Youngjae's crossed legs. The younger adjusted himself, now straddling Youngjae's torso and being face to face.
Youngjae, with his head comfortably resting on the arm rest of the couch, looped his arms around Jihoon's neck.
Jihoon took one of Youngjae's hands from behind his nape and brought it up to his lips, kissing it gently as if it could break if he held it too much.
“I love your wrists, you know that?” Jihoon said upon leaving a soft kiss on the bone protruding on Youngjae's wrist.
“Weird kink, but I'm not judging,” Youngjae laughed, teasing.
“You think I'm joking but I actually just love all of you,” Jihoon responded, his voice warm and sincere, his confession inherent and genuine. His love simply manifested easily, conjured from pure reverence. It was never imposing yet never lacking.
“I love you too. Always,” Youngjae said. His eyes softened, hand reaching out to gently cup Jihoon's cheeks.
At times like this, he marveled about how they remain so affectionate with each other. It had already been years since they started officially dating, and even longer since they first met each other. They've already gotten their degrees and finished university. They've moved in together and gone through every single thing one could possibly think of—the better, the worse, and everything else in between.
And yet Youngjae never once felt Jihoon's love falter. He remained a warm and steady presence in his life, always so full of love and full of life. All the dullness of his days had shied away the moment Jihoon arrived in his life, and till this day, he wonders what he could've done to deserve it all.
Jihoon planted a chaste kiss on Youngjae's forehead, lingering for moments as Youngjae let himself melt into the touch, eyes fluttering close.
Then he kissed his nose. His lips. His jaw.
He's had Youngjae memorized—every curve and every edge, every spot that made him feel pleased.
Youngjae now craned his neck back, letting Jihoon leave soft kisses down the warm expanse of skin. Jihoon took his sweet time, his kisses slow and soft and full of intent. Youngjae threaded his fingers through Jihoon's hair, brushing through his scalp just as he knew would cause shivers down his boyfriend's spine.
Jihoon's breathing against Youngjae's neck grew heavier, warm breath emanating from his sighs with every touch. His kisses travelled farther to Youngjae's clavicle, lingering on his skin as he took in every surface that felt like it was sculpted by the hands of the divine itself.
Jihoon giggled against Youngjae's skin. He simply felt happy and whole. He felt the most complete during shared moments like this, like the world narrowed down around the two of them as the world stilled into a blurry haze of beauty.
“I missed you,” he whispered on Youngjae's skin, then lifted his head to the level of his boyfriend's.
Youngjae smiled. Softly, warmly—in a way that still gave Jihoon butterflies in his stomach.
“We've both been busy lately, haven't we?” said Youngjae.
Jihoon nodded, a pout forming on his lips.
“Mhm, way too busy,” he said.
“I'm glad you've been catching up on some sleep then,” Youngjae replied, stealing a quick kiss on Jihoon's pouty lips.
“Yeah but I wish I could spend all that time sleeping, hanging out with you instead,” Jihoon said.
Youngjae giggled.
“We're hanging out now, aren't we? Well—more like making out, but it's the same principle,” he said.
“This isn't enough, hyung, I need to live under your skin,” Jihoon whined, followed by shaking his head. He then began peppering kisses on Youngjae's face—his cheeks, his eyes, his nose, his lips, his forehead. Everywhere, he had to kiss Youngjae everywhere.
To which Youngjae was left a giggling mess over, simply surrendering to the younger's attack of affection. This was something he had to get used to for some time: the surge of affection that would overcome Jihoon at random. Now, Youngjae found himself enjoying every silly little kiss and whatever affection aggression the other has got to offer. In fact, he sought it at times, wishing Jihoon was there to hug him tightly and kiss his face whenever work became extra stressful.
When Jihoon's frenzy ended, they simply laid beside each other, cramped up on the couch too tiny for two grown men.
“Ah, right! My mom sent us fruits earlier this morning,” Youngjae said, now sitting up.
Jihoon's face lit up at the mention of fruits. It's been a while since he's enjoyed some fresh fruits. The ones sent by Youngjae's family are always the sweetest ones—his favorite.
“Really? I'll cut up some in the kitchen, then,” Jihoon said, standing up and practically jumping to the kitchen. There he found a bag full of a variety of fruits. He dug through the pile in awe, ever so grateful for the package.
Youngjae followed suit, watching Jihoon's back as he washed the fruits on the sink. He slowly walked up to him and rested his head on Jihoon's shoulder. Without having the need to look over, Youngjae could sense the wide smile on Jihoon's lips right at that moment.
In response to the gesture, Jihoon slightly rubbed his head against Youngjae's. When he finally rinsed the fruits and set them aside, he moved around to find the knife and cutting board.
“You wanna do it? You always cut it better,” Jihoon offered.
Youngjae shook his head.
“No, I want it cut by you,” he said, before slipping his arms around Jihoon from behind.
“Pfft. Just admit you don't want to dirty your hands,” Jihoon teased.
“Well, that too,” Youngjae giggled. He watched from behind as Jihoon cut up the mangoes carefully, his face buried on the crook of his neck.
From an outsider perspective, you'd think they were a newly wed couple with how clingy and lovey-dovey they are when in fact, this was simply a normal Sunday for them. The only day of the week when they fully let go of themselves and indulge in each other's presence—when the weight of the world could never disturb them. Where no phone calls or emails could ever get in the way of their peace. They had made that a rule during a particularly rough patch—that they would not, at any cost, entertain work during their days off to make sure they maximized their time with each other.
That period was truly hectic and turbulent, when both of them were too caught up with work and barely spent time with each other despite being under the same roof. They had kept their troubles brewing, rotting, inside them that they didn't sooner realize it affected their relationship.
But as love is, they were patient and understanding. They overcame their conflicts and emerged stronger, growing as a couple and as themselves as their own persons.
As Jihoon washed his hands after peeling and cutting everything up, Youngjae reached for a spoon and scooped up the mangoes, ripe and sweet.
“It's so sweet, try it,” he said, handing Jihoon a spoonful.
Youngjae smiled endearingly as Jihoon took a bite and marveled at the sweetness. It was in these simple moments when he felt that the world is kind. Han Jihoon must be living proof that the world is kind and beautiful and bright.
They didn't bother to sit in the dining area as they continued to finish the fruits while talking about whatever thing that crossed their mind in passing. They talked about everything they could think of—the sweetness of the fruits, plans to visit Youngjae's hometown for the summer, and going grocery shopping later in the afternoon.
There by the kitchen sink, they shared the sweetness of the fruits and the mirth that danced through the genuine smiles on their lips.
Nothing could ever be more perfect than the softness that lingered around them when together. The sheer joy that echoed in their voices—the delight heard in every laugh and every word that hung lightly in the air. It's warm and grounding and true.
To them, perhaps the most tangible form of love is the one they share, the one that takes the form of Han Jihoon and Choi Youngjae.