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Midnight in Seoul often felt like an apocalypse had broken down. The dead roads, the empty buildings, and the night sky. It seemed promising. A perfect moment to pretend that the asteroid collapsed on Earth two months ago. Exctinct the humans, as it did with the dinosaurs billions of years ago.
Gun loved the idea. It offers peace and rest to the animals. He loved silence.
“Cmon just one more time one more time”
Goo clearly didn’t.
The man was clinging to Gun’s arm, whining exasperately as Gun dragged both bodies upstairs. His voice echoed, causing the dogs from the first-floor apartment to bark and another neighbour to come out of his apartment to give them a glare, a warning. Still, Goo smiled at them, jokingly apologising. Shouted on the man’s face that he had a hearing disorder, so he couldn’t help but shout when speaking.
“Hearing disorder? Don’t fucking lie and shut up,”
“I’m not kidding! I am! I AM HALF DEAF! YOU HEAR ME?! DO YOU?! HEY! HEY!”
Now the dogs from the fourth floor harmonised with the other mutt. The old man had slammed the door in his face. Goo barked a laugh on his door. On the third floor, Gun shoved him to the floor. He took out the bundle of keys, unlocking the door to his place, “Go home. You always make a mess at mine.” He warned Goo, blank face, cold as ice.
He wasn’t the man he was in the karaoke room just now.
He’s a man who needs to wake up early tomorrow to run an errand.
Goo doesn’t understand that, of course. When the door opened, Goo barged inside like the place was their shared space. The blond man threw his shoes beside the shoe cabinet and tossed his coat on the sofa instead of the coat rack. Now making his way to the kitchen.
Gun took a moment on the door. Squeezing his eyes shut in contained annoyance, with a sharp sigh, he entered the place second, now a guest at his own place.
Goo came out later from the kitchen, munching a cracker, watching Gun take off his socks, shoes, coat and neck tie… then sat on the sofa to take off his handwatch.
“When are you going to return my clothes?” Plural. Gun didn’t look at him.
“Which one?” Goo’s voice muffled, he dusted the dust of crackers from his shirt.
“All of them,” Gun answered, pulling out a box of cigarettes from his pocket, tucking out a cigarette with ease. The same cigarette was then snatched by Goo.
“I will, just wait.” He sat on the other sofa.
Gun let out another sharp exhale. He calmly took out another stick of cigarettes. Clamped it between his lips and lit it with his overpriced lighter. On the other side, Goo was watching him with a lazy smile, actively thinking of a hundred ways to tease the other man.
On hard labour days like this, Goo wouldn’t talk to anyone and go home for a nice treat. Take a great warm bath, sink into his king-sized bed. Play video games all day. Maybe today, all the solace amounted to seeing Gun. So he insisted they play another drink game, or something similar. A mini after-party.
Just him and Gun again.
Just him and Goo again.
Doesn’t sound like an excuse.
“What?” Gun snapped when he realised Goo was watching way too long.
“That is bad.” Goo pointed at the cigarette, “You do know that it’s harmful for your health, right?” Goo said, spinning the stolen cigarette between his fingers. “Killed a lot of strong men.” He said with a smirk. “Could kill you too.” His eyes were smiling with him. The idea that Gun Park dies from lung cancer tickled him.
“You stare too much at a no-drugs poster,” Gun said, staring out the window.
Goo chuckled, “It’s common knowledge.” He glanced at the same place Gun was staring. Boring cityscape unoccupied by people. He looked back at Gun, something more interesting to see.
It was silent for a while. Only the sound of slight movements and their breathing could be heard. Gun leaned his neck against the sofa, forcing his body to relax and convincing the cigarette to burn his thoughts away, because somehow Goo’s mere presence had heightened the amount of irritation he had today.
He assumed it was their visible clash of personalities. They were opposites from day 1. Goo finds his smoking aggravating, Gun finds the blond whole shit and jokes insufferable. Usually, he would cough aggressively by now, clipping his nose with an over-the-top disgust on his face, gagging too if he could. But none of that occurred today.
It reminds him that they could have finished their job early if the idiot hadn’t come late to work. They could have defeated the men in the karaoke place in seconds if Goo hadn’t picked a fight with him, then somehow thrown a bet about who was a better singer.
Memories of their shitty singing skills flashed in his head. The deafening music, the blinding lights, and the nauseating smell of sweat and blood on the floor and walls. Goo wasn’t singing either. He was screaming on the mic to support his idea of a high note.
“You’re murdering me with sound pollution.”
Goo looked visibly offended at the critique, almost laughing at it as well, but composed himself again to compete with Gun’s nonchalance. “I’m doing this because I’m giving you a chance.”
Gun rolled his eyes, scoffing as he watched Goo change the song. Gun felt something lighter on his chest, a smirk on his lips as he picked up a mic.
He opened his eyes when he realised how silent it had become compared to Goo’s inability to keep quiet. Goo was already sitting next to him, eyeing the lighter with a detached expression, now lighting the stolen cigarette on his own.
“The hell you doing?” Gun asked, perplexed.
“What does it look like? Suicide?” Goo answered.
Gun went speechless to the scene unfolding before him. The Goo he knows would gag in front of smokers was now attempting to be one. Miserably. Eyes squint to see the stick properly, clumsily holding it between his lips like the shit was slippery. Goo took a quick drag, instantly breaking into a fit of coughing, sending a cloud of smoke into the air like a choo-choo train, successfully prompting a snicker from Gun.
How could someone be so utterly inept?
“What are you, stupid?” He laughed, taking the cigarette from Goo.
“Stupid? You people fuck with your bodies with this every day!” Goo waved the smoke off his face.
“You’re doing it all wrong,” Gun said, taking a drag on the same stick, “It’s supposed to feel good, not burn.” Blowing a couple of smokes directly on the man’s face.
Now smirking at the frowning man.
“Sex and drugs do the same shit,” Goo said.
“Pretty hypocritical for someone with said common knowledge,” Gun reminded.
“Oh, come on. It didn’t feel good.”
“It isn’t if you attempted a sloppy blowjob on it.” Gun rolled his eyes, handing the stick back at Goo, who took it like it was a chemical hazard. “All you need to do is gently inhale it. Hold it in for a bit. Then slowly exhale.” He instructed with a demonstration.
Goo find it ridiculous that Gun was giving a precise tutorial to start an unstoppable addiction. Despite his visible disdain, though, he was slightly mesmerised by how easy Gun was indulging in his smoking habit. The tiny flame flared with another drag, inviting, inciting him to try again. Smoke swirls around him like a pole dance.
Gun observed the gears turning in Goo’s head, an amused smirk playing on his face.
“Interested?”
Goo indulged. Staring intensely at Gun, as he took a long drag - not looking away, pride holding him there - then soft, hot smoke released directly on the man’s face. Silence followed along with the hiss of cigarettes. Much to his surprise, Gun remained unperturbed, making Goo laugh smugly as he inhaled another round.
“...shit, it does feel good.”
Cigarettes can cause a stimulant effect. Nicotine would trigger the nervous system and speed up the heart rate. Well, fuck. Gun’s heart beat was running at a marathon pace than it usually does. He looked away as he felt his face burning, ignoring the pleased moaning coming from Goo.
The rush of nicotine coursing through his system triggered an understanding in him about Gun’s philosophy of fun. He smiled, watching the heavy smoke filling the air. Then he looked at Gun again, “Did I pass?”
“Hardly,” Gun replied, putting out his cigarette. The smell suddenly became unbearable.
“You’re a bad influence.” Goo put out his, squashing it on the same ashtray. “Let’s try something else,” He suggested as quickly as he blame.
Gun glanced at him a what. With a sly smirk, Goo rummaged through his pocket, pulling out a black plastic bag containing pre-rolled joints. Gun frowned.
“Where the fuck did you get that?”
“Under the table back at the bar,” Goo gave one to Gun, one for him. He lit it with the man’s lighter. “Come on, party guy. Smoke more.” He smirked at Gun with a mischievous glint, taking a slow, deep drag as he had practised from the private smoking class earlier.
Gun, slightly hesitant and exhausted, lit up his. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, eyes on the ceiling, with the weird feeling of hate and acceptance in his chest.
“Wonderful.”
“Better knock me off.”
“God, I hope so.”
Gun turned to look at Goo, who was already smiling giddily at him. The hate in his chest twisted slightly, maybe because Goo looked a little different today. Some time passed, and a thin line of ash ran along his joint, threatening to fall off with the smallest move. He didn’t move, didn’t look away.
“Feels nice,” Goo muttered. “Feels great.” Voice smaller, dangerously excited.
Goo was unravelling and corroding away with the ash. Gun watches in awe. Both drifting away from reality, shrivelling everything like the asteroids that killed a whole species. Distorted. Colourful. It was beautiful.
The banging on the door faded into a background noise, “Keep your voice down” The neighbour said, leaving with mild disappointment that no one opened the door. Already planning to come back tomorrow for a complaint.
Goo pulled his friend from the couch, “Let’s dance.” He commanded with a wide grin. He was already dancing to the old band, The Vogues, to an old song called ‘You’re the one’. Who knows how long it has been since they started, but the contents in the bag were all gone.
Gun was confused, his head spinning as he tried to balance himself after lying on the couch all night. He tried to focus on Goo, wondering where the music even came from or how long it had been on loop. The air was thick with the scent of the drug they took. Goo’s eyes gleamed with excitement as he swayed to the music.
The blond was eager for Gun to join him on the impromptu dance floor, laughing at Gun’s awkward dance. Visibly high as he was. All giggly, Goo went to hug Gun.
“I adore you… and no one before you… could make me feel this way, yeah…” They swayed together in a messy circle, Gun with his arms up to avoid touching Goo.
The song stopped as one of them stepped on the phone. But Goo kept slurring the lyrics, barely making sense, “Since I met you…” He mumbled, pointing at Gun with his brows furrowed together.
“I just can’t forget you,” A passionate look on his face, “I love you more each dayyy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah,” He sang, breaking into a gleeful laughter.
Gun crashed to the floor, “You’re out of it.” Gun accused, watching Goo multiply into six, “I’m out of it.” He added quietly, scratching the back of his head.
Goo pulled him up again, refusing to let go of him.
His once energetic and inhibited dance starts to unwind. They swayed together in a messy rhythm, Goo humming the lyrics this time, eyelids closed. The humming began to calm Gun down. Unalarmed, he quietly wraps his arm around the Goo’s waist.
“Let’s sleep,” Gun said.
Goo had a goofy smile smeared on his face, making Gun chuckle at how idiotic he looked. They maintained eye contact. Slow dancing to the sound of nothing.
“Don’t wanna.” Goo defied.
Gun stares. The red face, the lazy grin. The smell of cigarettes and drugs. Would Goo remember if he leans and kisses him tonight?
“Then dance all by yourself. I have work tomorrow.” He unwraps his arms around Goo.
Attempting to walk into his room with drunken steps. Goo laughed, following him anyway, singing the chorus all over again. As Gun was about to turn around to shut him up, he felt a force pushing him down to bed. His head bumps on the soft mattress.
And Goo was on top of him, forehead covered with sweaty hair, panting softly “Got you.” Goo had said playfully.
It really made him mad… he just wants to yell at him. Why does he always make him feel annoyed and fuzzy and… he pushes the strands of hair behind Goo’s ear, gazing upon the man’s face with a reluctant fondness.
Goo snorted, announcing Gun’s defeat. So Gun lay there helplessly, letting Goo do whatever he wanted to him. He didn’t care.
It was hard to pin down the word he was feeling. But he knew it wasn’t just a childish loathing, it wasn’t just the regular annoyance he always felt for Goo. His finger traced the man’s face, trying to engrave it in his head, somehow.
Goo hissed as Gun pressed his thumb against his cherry lips. He didn’t let go.
But understands now.
He retreated his thumb, carefully holding Goo’s face with both hands. He didn’t want to sleep. Goo would be gone when he woke up tomorrow and would name this casual. That could hurt him. He didn’t want to get hurt. He wants to name everything he hates about him tonight, so really, Goo can’t go.
Goo smiled as his cheeks was smushed together, “Oww.”
Gun rubs the man’s face together, all high and sleepy.
“I’ll get you something to drink. Are you thirsty or something?”
“Huh?”
“You want a drink?”
Goo’s voice was muffled.
“Why are you crying? Did it really burn your throat?”
Then he realised that Goo’s face was also blurry and distorted. He blinked twice, relieved when he saw the man’s face again. This time, Goo looked genuinely worried, which made him laugh. Goo looked funny with that face… God, what is he even babbling about..?
Maybe it must have been the drugs… But still, who could dare deny this? Goo really looked like he cared. He mused to himself, smiling stupidly.
“Gun?” Goo’s voice sounded timid, “Does it burn?”
He managed a nod, “Mhm, it really burns.” His voice was hoarse; said it like a kid.
“Yeah?” Goo cupped his face, and he instantly soaked into the touch, nodding repeatedly.
You’re going to betray Charles Choi, aren’t you?
Goo, still high himself, pressing Gun’s head to his chest, “It’ll feel better sooner.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
But you’re going to leave me.
“I’ll be right here, right beside you.” So Goo lies beside him, his hand stroking Gun’s head before they move to hug his whole body.
Gun buried his face into his chest, listening to the faint heartbeat. When he thought it was too silent, he easily guessed the blonde must have fallen asleep.
A thud made him shoot his eyes open. Across the bed, he saw that Goo was picking up a watch box and placing it where he had stumbled. Goo, now caught stealing Gun’s clothes, smirked, “Morning, sexy.”
Gun didn’t quite respond, having only been able to eye the half-naked blond. He watches Goo wear his favourite shirt like it was his. But today he didn’t feel annoyed. In fact, he’s glad Goo considered his clothes to be his.
His thoughts were interrupted when the other man started to hum a familiar tune from last night. They were fucking high. Dancing, giggling, screaming until the neighbour banged the door. He’s going to have to prepare mentally for a scolding…
Then he recalled the way Goo leaned against him, singing lyrics he wished he’d said genuinely, and how he hissed when Gun pressed his thumb onto his cherry lips. He still remembers it, every detail of Goo, every sight he had come to loathe, come to a conclusion that, ah, this isn’t loathe, isn’t it? It’s nothing like hatred.
Probably the opposite.
“You’re going to rot over there?” Goo said.
“Stop stealing my clothes,” Gun grumbled.
“Can’t hear you, you’re all gibberish” Goo complained.
Gun frown deepens. Was it the joint he took last night? He can’t seem to shrug off these feelings from last night. It must have been the drugs they took.
“C’mere.”
“Huh?”
“Come here.”
Goo had a hint of confusion on his face, but he came closer anyway. Closer. Gun had mumbled. So Goo instinctively leaned closer. What? They shared eye contact for a while. Gun felt it again, his heart thumping faster; there was a certain excitement in his chest, heat burned his cheek again, though this time neither of them smoked anything.
He gently held the man’s face. Goo, who was still confused, looked into his white pupils. How odd. Those eyes were always cold and detached. Now all he saw was fondness in them. Goo swallowed nervously. He observed those white pupils. Observed it flickered to his lips…
Then pak.
Gun flicked his forehead.
“Owwww, what the hell is wrong with you??” Goo cried, holding onto his forehead.
“That’s for stealing my clothes,” Gun said.
“You idio- owww, that really hurts??” He whined.
Goo was about to throw a punch, but then the man was laughing right in his face. Shit, this was fucking embarrassing. Gun’s inexpressive face softened into something sweet, something pretty. Goo looked away in embarrassment. His face burning.
“Don’t flick my forehead again…” Goo warned, quieter than usual. Frowning as he grumpily fixes his buttons.
Gun thought it was endearing, the way Goo tried to hide the blush on his face while visibly sulking. He winds down, a smirk on his face, “No promises.”
Goo tsked. What’s with Gun today? Isn’t he the one who’s supposed to be annoyed? Something was definitely different today. He looked at Gun again. That idiot had a proud smile on his face!
“You mad?” Gun teased. Goo looked away in annoyance. Unlike he hates Gun or something… Nah, not that.
“Just return my clothes when you borrow them,” Gun warned as he got up from bed.
It’s just that something fluttered in his chest just now.
“Fine.”