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Scene 1

"Seungcheol

"seungseung

"cheolcheol

"cheolie

"cheol-ya"

Seungcheol put his pen down next to the wrappers of empty candies. The wood flexed slightly. His eyes roamed around the library where Joshua's beautiful voice annoyingly filled the space. The walls hummed with his whispered screams.

Joshua dabbed a finger into Seungcheol's dimple. This time he spoke into the slim air between them, "Seungcheol-ah."

The library was packed as usual; it was a week before the end of the semester. So, whatever Joshua was pulling right now was making the ice go thinner for them. They'd already gotten the eyes from the group of girls sitting across. A nasty scowl from a computer science major student who stopped typing midway, frowned at Seungcheol, and changed his place.

Well, Seungcheol had bigger fish to fry, and the said fish was lolling on him with his cheek pressed against Seungcheol's shoulder. He pinched Joshua's cheek and leaned in to speak in his ear, "Why are you here?"

"I'm hungry. Let's go eat something." Joshua propped himself up. His fake glasses came askew. His cap was almost ebbing off his head. "You should listen to your boyfriend."

Seungcheol ignored how his heart skipped a beat and fell into his shoes. "Yeah, I'm listening, boy— friend."

"I sensed there's a space between those two words." Joshua snuggled closer, resting his head on Seungcheol's collarbone, and every now and then Joshua's laugh would come lose on his shirt.

Seungcheol looked at him, the nest of hair aboard almost on his chest, and found a string of relief settled under his ribs. He went back to his practice book.

Joshua threaded their loose hands together under the table and scrolled on his phone. Seungcheol's heartbeat invented a new rhythm. That discoed to the cadence of Joshua's voice. The more Seungcheol tried to enforce control, the more EDM it got.

He cleared his throat, eyes a bit hollow from not sleeping well. "Aren't actors supposed to be super busy or something?"

"Shoot was cancelled today." Joshua moved to slump on the table, with his one hand stretched out and the other pillowing his face. Seungcheol felt the immediate loss of warmth striking his bones. His fingers ached to grasp the sun back into his palms. He tightened his fist instead.

"Right," Seungcheol replied, but he didn't look at Joshua because Joshua's stare sat heavy on his face. He could feel Joshua studying him like a scandalous article. He sometimes looked at him like a sunflower to the sun, like a draught to rain, like the thoughts that plagued Seungcheol's mind infested his too. He never fathomed what to do with that.

Seungcheol closed his fingers tightly around the pen, his fingertips turning red, the metal threatening to break. Joshua's hair strayed across his face, and Seungcheol had to suppress the urge to push those strands back, soothe them, and kiss his tem— QUESTIONS. Right, he was studying.

"Let's go eat some steak. I'll pay." That was the third time Joshua had smiled. It usually worked by now because really you couldn't say no to Joshua's soft smile where his nose scrunched up, his eyes drawn crescent and—

"Pass." Seungcheol flinched at his own voice.

"Please, Cheol." Joshua pushed one more time, his face sullen and darling.

"Shua– I have–" before Seungcheol could finish. Joshua's smile fell into a straight line. He stood up abruptly, the chair's legs screeched against the marble floor, it almost fell back.

Seungcheol was still busy with the problem he had been hung up on since Joshua got here. He answered without meeting Joshua's eyes, "Oh, so you're finally leaving?"

Three terrible, terrible seconds later. A loud shout broke in the silence of the library.

Joshua yelled, "This man is here to meet an eleven-year-old gi–"

Seungcheol snatched Joshua by the waist and dragged him out. "I'll — let's go eat something."

The disgusted stares dropped them to the exit, and the silence erupted into whispers of gossip as soon as the door shut behind them. The finality of the door was so loud that Seungcheol could almost hear his ban already processing inside.

Honestly, you couldn't blame Joshua in this situation. Seungcheol had way too many opportunities to take the offer, but no, he had to make Joshua plead the fifth time, or was it sixth? Well, anyway, he made Joshua beg despite knowing better.

"Man, you need to stop acting like that in public." Seungcheol sighed, massaging his temples.

Joshua considered for a second. "So, it's okay if I do it when it's just us. Noted."

Seungcheol sighed, but didn't move away. If he could, he'd move closer, he'd—

Ah, fuck.

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So this story might start here, but the story of Joshua and Seungcheol began a long time ago.

Perhaps it started when Joshua got them trapped in a mall, and Seungcheol spent the rest of the night counting moles on Joshua's face. He learnt enough to understand the language of Joshua's eyes, and the constellations of his touch.

Perhaps it started when Seungcheol was new in the neighbourhood and met Joshua for the first time, who made Seungcheol call him "Hyung" for an entire year before Seungcheol realised they shared the same birth year.

Perhaps when Joshua asked Seungcheol to practice for a kiss scene and Seungcheol, as naive as he was— he said yes. They kissed on the weekend. They kissed after Joshua's work, and eventually Seungcheol began to trace Joshua's lips inside his mouth.

Seungcheol loved Joshua even before he knew. Perhaps when Seungcheol's eyes— curious and anxious — found Joshua's— placid and welcoming.

Scene 2

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Seungcheol had no plans today, which was odd because Joshua always filled his empty slots with something— and it could be as mundane as doomscrolling together, but always something. The silence bit was worse than the teasing because, involuntarily, Seungcheol kept wondering about Joshua.

Has he eaten? Is he sleeping? Busy?

He stared at his screen. The low reflection bore his eyes with sleep. He thought of texting Joshua. A simple what's up? Should be okay. He opened their chat; the last message was from this morning. Seungcheol asked Joshua if he wanted to eat something, but Joshua was busy, so he couldn't come. He had replied that it was fine, but now he thought he should've asked more questions instead of letting the chat die there.

He turned on his side, facing the wall, waiting for a divine intervention to free him from this ache. This Joshua-sized hollow inside his chest.

Divine intervention didn't happen, but slumber intervention sure did. Well, if he couldn't see him in real life— his dreamland Joshua would do for now.

The next time Seungcheol opened his eyes, he was already late for his part-time. He hurriedly got dressed and made it to Hanwoo Beef House, where he worked as a server. The owner was nice— he was old and wrinkly, but he always treated Seungcheol with warmth despite what people had initially told him.

Seungcheol liked having his hands busy because at least then he didn't have to worry about qualms of reality. Despite his broad shoulders, the weight of the real world crushed him the same.

He often wondered about the life he wanted to live. What kind of adult would he become? If he ever laid his feelings across to Joshua, where would that leave them? Was it worth gambling his present for a future that might not even exist?

It was nearing closing time when his phone buzzed.

Seungcheol saved the picture on his phone even before he typed no. Joshua's face did shaken up, some sulk out of Seungcheol's pout.

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Seungcheol was heading home when his phone made a notification sound. The screen flashed— yoon.jeonghannie added a new story.

Seungcheol swiped off the notification, but it hit him: Joshua said he was with Jeonghan. He only ever posts on his private account when it's something worth getting cancelled over.

He tapped on it to see what Jeonghan had been up to, but what he didn't expect was to see Jeonghan being all up in Joshua's space. The photo was a bit blurred, with darkness looming over their surroundings. It did appear as if the two were making out.

An ugly feeling twisted inside Seungcheol's chest. It took everything in him not to throw his phone across the street.

This wasn't new. Seungcheol couldn't escape this even if he wanted to. Every once in a while, he'd come across articles claiming that they were dating. At some point, he even began to believe it. But Joshua sat him down and said, "Jeonghan wasn't the one to get into serious relationships." Now he wondered what if he was ready now? What if Joshua was only made for Seungcheol to desire from afar? What if this was the best they could've been?

But then his heart hopped towards the glances, the touch, the talk… friends won't look at each other the way Joshua and Seungcheol did.

He felt like someone just ripped his beating heart out and let it rot on the concrete floor with maggots eating the feelings out of it.

Scene 3

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"So... you just self-appointed yourself as his boyfriend?" Jeonghan asked, leaning away from the table. His hands were busy mixing soju with beer.

Joshua gulped down wine in one hasty movement; his throat sizzled as the tonic trailed down. He blurted, straightening up, "Yes."

"That sounds illegal." Jeonghan sipped his own drink.

"It's not. I've done my research." He put down the flute. " I'll just have to pretend to be his boyfriend until he gives in and we're actually boyfriends boyfriends. Foolproof plan."

Jeonghan didn't know whether to laugh at the absurdity or high-five Joshua for the immaculate genius of a plan. So, he went with the third option because the first option was giving Joshua the satisfaction of a good plan. Nope. Hell no, and the other was to laugh at Joshua and possibly get his shampoo replaced with shaving cream? Also, hell no. Third, the mild burn (evil nonetheless) option seemed safer for both his hair and his dignity.

He tried to keep his voice even. "Yeah, proving the fool indeed."

Joshua moved closer, and Jeonghan flinched in his bar stool. He held Jeonghan's gaze. "You've known Cheol since middle school.. He'll run away if I'm gonna give him too much space."

"Right."

Joshua got clumsy with his words, and that was one thing Jeonghan found distasteful because he only ever got like this when he was about to say something sentimental that was definitely gonna make Jeonghan want to cry or scream into his pillow till his throat sores and voice hoarsens.

"I know you kissed Cheol in high school." His voice was so small that it made Jeonghan want to plant it. "You used to like him... you get what I mean."

"Used to? What makes you think that?" Jeonghan joked, because of course he did. Joshua knew the half-truth. The kiss did happen. Jeonghan never even intended it to be that way; kissing one of your best friends was a stupid thing. He didn't know it then, but it was carved into his chest when Jeonghan pressed his lips onto Seungcheol, and when he opened his eyes, he found Seungcheol's face surrendered in horror.

So, in Jeonghan's words. That wasn't love. It was merely a kiss. Jeonghan would call it a European friendly kiss. Seungcheol was just being dramatic about it.

He was bored and wanted to stir things up, but that incident made him realise their feelings more than his own. It was so obvious from the start. They had this unspoken thing, something Jeonghan wasn't allowed to enter. Not that he wanted to be a part of it. It was far more sacred; it was far more real than what Jeonghan had felt all his life.

Seungcheol and Joshua had the type of love Jeonghan acted out in movies. He never felt it in real life, or maybe he did— but the reality of it felt far heavier on Jeonghan's gentle shoulders.

"You still like him?"

Jeonghan thought for a long time, with his finger tapping his chin. He then winked, "Are you afraid, Joshuji, that I'm gonna steal him away from you?"

"You're so mean, Han-ah."

Jeonghan chuckled, moving his head forward. His hair fell gracefully to the sides of his face.

"Then why won't you date Mingyu? I thought things were going well between the two of you."

Jeonghan could hide well from the world, but not from Joshua's docile, cunning eyes. Joshua was the only person who saw Jeonghan and saw the wounds deeper under his immaculate skin.

"Nothing's going on." Jeonghan stirred the leftover drink in his glass. A tornado wound up and died down.

Jeonghan didn't look at him, but he could feel the weight of Joshua's gaze on him, sitting like a pat on his shoulders.

"I found that hard to believe. You were all Mingyu this Mingyu that just a month ago." Joshua said in a small voice.

"It's just— I don't wanna talk about it. We're here to get hammered and not talk about my misery."

Joshua nodded and raised his glass.

Jeonghan knew he wanted to press further. He wanted to ask more, but Jeonghan didn't have an answer that wasn't a fabricated lie. He was the destruction, the black hole, the thing that ruined everything. He weakly passed a smile, and Joshua took it and folded it inside his arms. The reason they were friends for as long as they were was because of this— Joshua was the healing pond in Jeonghan's world. He didn't expect him to be anything.

After the fifth round of "I promise this is the last round," their drinking finally came to a halt. Joshua was completely out of it, lolling his head in every direction. Somehow, his shirt's buttons were undone, and his hair was all over the place, sticking in ten different directions. If someone were to look at them right now, they might misinterpret it as them making out.

"You came." Jeonghan happily cooed. Joshua nudged closer as the vibration of Jeonghan's voice hummed through him.

The said "someone" was here. His face bore the expression Jeonghan anticipated, and he had put the story on Instagram for. Angling them just right, it would look like a car crash to someone who waited at the red lights.

Seungcheol rolled his eyes. "Get away from him."

"Why?" Jeonghan only pulled him closer, batting his pretty eyelashes as he snaked his hands tighter around Joshua's waist. Of course Seungcheol didn't ask whether they were actually kissing or not. Some truths were better not knowing.

"Jeonghan-ah, I'm not joking."

"What makes you think I am?" Jeonghan's eyes brightened. Holding off a very obvious laugh. He knew not to push too much. But also, it was Seungcheol— the same Seungcheol who had a habit of pouting over the smallest things. 

"You always do this." Seungcheol was pouting again, his hands furled behind his back, his T-shirt tightened around his flexed muscles.

"Wah— way to make me sound like an alcoholic."

The bar music thinned out. Joshua and Jeonghan were on the VVIP floor. Most of the scandals that break here stay here.

Seungcheol took a few steps closer. "What do you want?"

"I want you to get what you want without acting like a fool about it."

"I'm not acting like a fool."

"That's exactly what a fool would say. As far as I could tell… you're waiting for things to be 'perfect,' which is so weird."

Jeonghan saw the words hit Seungcheol like a slap in the face because it was the truth. Seungcheol had been tiptoeing around Joshua with his feelings. Jeonghan couldn't fathom— why? He always thought of Seungcheol as someone who had their heart on their sleeve, and yet he was painfully gullible when it came to Joshua, even when his heart slipped off his sleeve the moment Joshua walked into any room, clinging to his feet.

The silence stretched for another rhythmic beat. Seungcheol pressed his hands together, trying to exercise all the nerves out of his fist. He looked sincere when he said it, like it was something he had argued over for the longest time and finally found a voice to say it. It came off thin and cracked, but filled with solemnity; it almost made Jeonghan crack into a smile. "First, I want to become someone he deserves. If I plan on ruining our friendship, I should at least make sure I become someone he can never say no to."

"Better work your ass off because, as you know, I'm an opportunist." Jeonghan softly pushed Joshua off his shoulders to Seungcheol.

Seungcheol was quick on his heels and took Joshua by the hands. "Can you stand?"

Joshua languidly nodded while his limbs trembled like a baby deer.

Jeonghan looked at his phone. The screen saver was a combination of yellow and blue.

The walk back to the car was just an endurance test for Seungcheol because Joshua kept on whispering over his skin, messing with his shirt, and one time Seungcheol felt him licking his nape, but they somehow managed to make it to the car.

The golden glow of the light split over Joshua's sleepy face. Seungcheol brushed Joshua's flicks off his face, his knuckles featherlight against his skin. It stopped for a second, for one bleeding minute, his fingers hovered over the tilt of his cheeks, and it broke. Then Seungcheol yanked his hands back as if they weren't about to sail away on the gravity of Joshua's pull.

"Cheollie." Joshua moaned. He tugged at Seungcheol's hoodie, forcing his eyes on him.

Joshua's eyes softened. It carried that look— the one that shores at Seungcheol's heart like offerings at a God's temple. "I'm sorry I forgot the melon bread."

Suddenly, the heat of Seoul's night settled under his skin. He cleared his throat, avoiding falling into Joshua's eyes. "Yeah?"

Joshua didn't say anything.

The air fused with unspoken desires and the sweet, melliferous stench of alcohol. Seungcheol was suffocating; at the same time, he hadn't breathed that fresh in years.

Maybe Seungcheol was a masochist; maybe he liked when Joshua hurt him because he knew not to ask, and yet it stained his mouth. "Did you—" but he stopped. 

Joshua's hands lingered at the bridge of Seungcheol's jaw— he cupped his face in his warmth, and like a river in drought, he accepted the rain on him. Joshua moved closer, and Seungcheol felt the air leaving his lungs, collapsing at the back of his throat.

The kiss was soft; Joshua was exactly that. Perhaps it was Joshua's soft demeanour that made Seungcheol surrender his heart on a platter to him. He lifted Seungcheol's face to seal his lips in another kiss.

Seungcheol's hold tightened around Joshua, his calloused hands shivering before they landed on Joshua's back. This felt different. They had kissed before, but Seungcheol could swear on his life that this wasn't one of those times. This was different— it was raw in a way that made him voracious for Joshua's touch.

Begrudgingly, they took some seconds apart. And Seungcheol asked— he asked because Seungcheol's been fooled before, because Seungcheol's sincere. He held onto things with his trembling fingers with all his might, so when they shattered like glass under his grip. It hurts him, and it hurts the other person.

Seungcheol didn't want to hurt, and God, he would rip his heart out before he'd even think of hurting Joshua.

"Do you like me, Shua-ya? Will you kiss me tomorrow when there's no alcohol clouding your judgment?"

Joshua nodded. He drew close, and Seungcheol half expected Joshua to kiss him again, but he halted over his lips. When he spoke, the words were warm on Seungcheol's face. "I'll kiss you all my life."

Joshua's voice settled right under Seungcheol's bone; his face could barely contain the happiness that bloomed across it.

Tomorrow's going to be a good day. Seungcheol could feel it. He sure felt like he won everything in the world.

"We'll talk tomorrow. I'll take you out, and we'll talk about this after my work."

"Okay." Joshua went back to his seat. His face mirrored Seungcheol's like a seed finally germinating into a plant. Into a branch of desires that Seungcheol withered under his grip.

Behind the scene

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Jeonghan was left alone at the restaurant, surrounded by the empty soju bottles, leftovers, and Jeonghan's own pungent loneliness. He drank more after Seungcheol and Joshua left.

"Hyung."

Great, now he was also hallucinating too. He tipped his head slightly above to hear it better. So he could blame it on fate rather than the trembling fingers that dialed his number in the first place.

"Hyung."

Jeonghan finally took a breath that settled in his lungs. He lifted his head up. The silhouette above him blurred with the bleeding blue and pink of the lights. Mingyu looked purple under it. He looked yellow when Jeonghan met his eyes, and all Jeonghan could feel was blue.

"I'm sorry, Mingyuah," Jeonghan repeated.

"What are you sorry for, hyung?"

What was he sorry for? Sorry that he did what he had always done? Sorry that he never learnt how to love, and the later it got, the colder Jeonghan became to the feeling. His walls were built so high that even if he tried to crawl out of them, he'd fall right back in—harder than the last time, more agonising than it had ever been.

Curse you, Yoon Jeonghan, for drinking too much. You're gonna die of alcohol poisoning soon.

Mingyu came to sit across from him. He was wearing a grey hoodie and black shorts. His flicks stuck to his forehead, a layer of sweat skin over his face. His touch was warm, almost immediate when he reached out to place it over Jeonghan's. "Hyung.. I told you not to drink so much."

"I didn't drink much." Jeonghan planted Mingyu's hand over his face. "You're not actually here, are you?"

"Hyung, you called me. Of course I'm here." Mingyu traced circles over the silk of Jeonghan's cheek.

Jeonghan pillowed his head over Mingyu's hand. Mingyu moved closer, resting his head on the table facing Jeonghan's.

"That's —" Jeonghan realised how close Mingyu was and jumped, turning his face the other way. "I missed you."

"We saw each other yesterday." Mingyu stared at the back of Jeonghan's head.

"I know.. I miss being with you."

"Then be with me."

"I can't."

"Why?"

Jeonghan didn't answer.

Mingyu could still feel the warmth of Jeonghan's cheek on his palm. He could feel the soft throb of his veins. He waited for Jeonghan to recoil, call everything a mistake, call Mingyu a mistake. But tonight Jeonghan was honest for the first time: "Because you're too good. You laugh easily. You see things as they are. I'm not someone you can be happy with. I'm going to make you miserable with me."

"I'll be less miserable with you even if we're miserable together."

Jeonghan turned to Mingyu. His eyes wet, lips slightly pulled into a pout. Mingyu yielded his free hand to soothe Jeonghan's frantic hair. Jeonghan didn't flinch away this time, even when Mingyu gave him all the time to jilt away, to take a jab at him, but Jeonghan accepted it. His eyes rested on Mingyu like a wound. The kind that hurts when it's there and when it heals— it scars. He liked having Jeonghan's scars; he loved the way his name lolled inside Jeonghan's mouth, how calling Jeonghan was so close to praying.

This time it was Jeonghan who hued over Mingyu's face. He bled softly, grazing his eyes and nose; he hovered a beat longer at his lips.

"Do you wanna go back home?" Mingyu asked. His heart already strayed across the table towards Jeonghan.

It didn't take much time for Jeonghan to nod his head yes.

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Jeonghan woke up, a bit sore. Panic rushed through him when the room looked far more organised; it felt too big, the ceilings were pale, and the stain he had on his curtain wasn't there.

Then reality sank in— He was not in his room.

Fuck. fuck. fuck. Who the fuck did he sleep with last night? Joshua was too much of a wuss to cheat on his delusionally built boyfriend. So, who? He looked around the room only to find the walls decorated with the face he had been running away from since last year.

Mingyu.

He came into the picture when Jeonghan's first movie premiered. Jeonghan did not like the way Mingyu worked— he was calculating, smart, sweet; he knew just the right amount of force to press Jeonghan. His face wasn't bad to look at, except whenever Jeonghan closed his eyes, Mingyu would appear.

What he hated even more was that Mingyu had more money than God himself.

Jeonghan knew Mingyu's work style because after his first movie, any and every movie Jeonghan got was produced by Mingyu. He'd come on the set to see Jeonghan— sitting cross-legged, hair slicked back with his gaudy pretty smile.

They slept together at the premiere. Jeonghan didn't expect to see him again, except that Mingyu made it impossible for him to see anybody else but him.

Jeonghan wasn't the one to fall in love and be in a relationship afterwards. He wasn't even the one to sleep twice with the same person, but with Mingyu—oh God, with Mingyu, everything felt easy, like Jeonghan could reach his hand down Mingyu's throat and Mingyu would let him. He'd kiss his hands and ask if he was okay. If Jeonghan were to bite him, Mingyu would still pull him in for a kiss, tasting his own blood in Jeonghan's mouth.

Things fell apart when Mingyu confessed in the dark because looking at Jeonghan would make him accept any war to see him smile. So, Mingyu hid behind the silver of the moonlight and uttered, "I want you, hyung. I want to be your emergency number. I want everyone who knows you to know me. I want to be your daily, I want to be your thoughts, your music, your entertainment, I want to be yours."

If Mingyu hid behind the darkness, then Jeonghan hid behind silence. He didn't answer. He didn't say anything at all for three days, then dropped a message saying— let's not see each other anymore.

Surprisingly, Mingyu complied. He didn't text or call. He, in fact, even stopped coming to shoots as often. 

Jeonghan should have felt liberated, he should've felt like someone who just won, but he didn't. It hurt so much that he began to get sick.

There was a first time for everything. And Jeonghan had his first time feeling so miserable that he was drowning himself in alcohol because the burning pain of alcohol was easier to handle than the burning of his own heart.

He would never admit this. He would never say this out loud, not even to Joshua, but he felt Mingyu's absence in every bone of his body. There wasn't any part of his skin Mingyu hadn't kissed. There wasn't any place in his house where they didn't make love. There wasn't any place in his mind where the thought of Mingyu didn't live.

Jeonghan pulled the sheets above his head. This was too much. He wanted to run away. Wait— he could do that. Jeonghan slid off the bed. He pulled the sheets over his chest. It fell like a gown around his body.

Fuck— where were his clothes? He rampaged through Mingyu's wardrobe. It was a big labyrinth of tailored suits and jackets.

Then his hand landed on something soft— something Jeonghan recognised— it was his shirt, the white see-through one that he wore at the premiere. The one he forgot at the suite where he and Mingyu met for the first time. It carried no wrinkles, no stains, no sign of being worn at all, as if it were cared for even after two years of abandonment; it was kept like a gift.

He hurriedly put it over his head and put on a pair of black trousers that somehow fit him.

Jeonghan walked on his toes. He could see Mingyu cooking something with his back to the living room. He wore a simple black T-shirt with an apron tied around his waist. Jeonghan had seen this sight so many times, so many times he had woken up to Mingyu's cooking, and for the first time it suffocated him. He couldn't bear to see Mingyu knowing he wasn't allowed to hold him. He couldn't bear the smell of his cooking, his perfume, his house.

He took another padded step.

"Why are you running away, hyung?" Mingyu didn't turn; the sizzling sound filled the room. Jeonghan was hit with the immediate smell of olive oil and sautéed chives. He was cooking chicken stew. Something Jeonghan told Mingyu in passing a long time ago that he liked to eat it after a long day.

"I'm not— I'm not running away." Jeonghan instinctively took a step back. The smell of stew calmed his nerves.

"Aren't you?"

"Mingyu-ya, you know I wasn't."

"Hyung, there are exactly fifteen paparazzi outside my house. If you leave now wearing my clothes, or worse, the clothes from last night. You'll make the headlines." Mingyu placed his eyes on Jeonghan. He held a pan in one hand and a wooden spatula in the other. His hair was still bed-made, which meant he also woke up not long before Jeonghan.

"You're house-trapping me?" Jeonghan walked to the couch and stared at it in dismay, almost as if he was taking out someone's anger on something else.

"Hardly that. I'm being concerned."

"Are you… concerned?"

"You don't even know the ounce of it."

Jeonghan lay flat on the couch; a sigh escaped his mouth— was it of relief or worry? Jeonghan tried not to ponder that.

"How… how are you?" He asked, his hands fiddling with a thread that came loose on the couch.

Mingyu turned to him briefly. Jeonghan couldn't read his face, couldn't understand the sullenness that rested on his shoulders, which were generally buzzed with energy. He pillowed his hands and faced Mingyu— tracing the movement of his muscles, the tension underneath his tendons, the way he seemed reduced somehow. Reduced of his normal energy.

"I'm okay. I was waiting for you." Mingyu answered.

"You knew I was gonna call?" Jeonghan asked because he knew the answer. The answer sat unfolded in his chest— though he was still ignoring it.

"I was hoping that you would."

The air turned a little burnt. Mingyu took the pan off the stove and began plating it.

Jeonghan fixed his position, subconsciously waiting for Mingyu to blame him, thrash him, call him names, but when Mingyu set his eyes on Jeonghan, they were wet, they were edged with concern, and it was brimming with lov— almost almost mirrored like Jeonghan's.

Mingyu walked up to him. The apron came untied and fell to the ground. His every step was a reminder of what Jeonghan had done. He was eight steps away when Jeonghan made Mingyu wait all night, wanting him to break, but Mingyu didn't. Mingyu was six steps away when Jeonghan called Mingyu, knowing he was overseas and probably wouldn't come because Jeonghan wanted to convince himself that Mingyu wasn't the one to make the sacrifice, but Mingyu came anyway. Mingyu was four steps away when Jeonghan moaned a different name out of spite, just to see Mingyu's face wince in gore, and when it did, Jeonghan felt the world collapsing at his feet. Mingyu was three steps away when Jeonghan was the first one to accidentally say I love you but to keep Jeonghan's heart, Mingyu pretended otherwise. Mingyu was two steps away when Jeonghan called him wrecked, because the past had chased him down once again and ruined him open, and Mingyu held him through the night.

Now, Mingyu was one step away when all Jeonghan wanted was to be loved without it costing him anything.

Jeonghan was scared to get hurt. He was scared to love, and worse, he was scared to be loved when he didn't bring anything to the table, when this love— the one that Mingyu offered — wasn't conditional. Didn't include a mutual transaction. Mingyu wanted to love Jeonghan because he wanted to love him— there were no nuances, no complex hidden alterior. Nothing like the sort of love Jeonghan understood as love.

Mingyu made himself comfortable between Jeonghan's thighs and cupped his face in both hands. "Hyung. When I say I like you. I mean all of you. You can be mean, you can run off, we can play this Tom andJerry game all our lives, but you have to be honest here. Please tell me I'm not crazy for thinking that you love me as much as I do you."

"At least give me a chance to rewrite the bad experience for you. Let me love you in places where you can't even reach. I'll let you be my God, and I'll also let you destroy me like one. But you have to give me a chance. You have to give us a chance."

Jeonghan's head came to rest on the crook of Mingyu's nape. He spoke into the soft fabric of his T-shirt. "I'm scared…"

Mingyu almost missed it. The words fell featherlight. "You think I'm not?" He pressed his warmth to thaw Jeonghan's icy skin. "Hyung, I'd rather be scared now than regret this for the rest of my life. We'll probably fight a lot; you'll probably drive me crazy. I'll probably do the same to you. People are supposed to hurt you; you have to find someone worth getting hurt by. And I think you're worth it. You're worth a death by a thousand scars."

"Okay…" Jeonghan's voice cracked.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

Mingyu laughed, "Okay."

He pulled Jeonghan into a kiss, and Jeonghan flew like a river in Mingyu's grasp. He held him soft and tight.

"Promise me not to leave me again."

Jeonghan gasped, his lips wet with Mingyu's saliva. He moaned, "Okay."

Mingyu's hand was gracing Jeonghan's jaw. He pulled him in again. "Say it." He whined, leaving a gap of breath between the two.

"I won't leave you." Jeonghan chased him with his mouth.

"Say that you love me."

"I– I—"

Mingyu's earnest eyes engulfed him in a warm embrace.

"I love you."

Scene 4

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Seungcheol woke up the next morning with his head above the clouds. His lips were still swollen from where Joshua kissed him. He ran his fingers to hold the residual heat still lingering in his mouth.

Seungkwan came fifteen minutes later. Technically, he was forty minutes late, but he insisted the first thirty were fashionably late. So, he was fashionably late and late late.

"You're late." Seungcheol pointed at his watch. He had been standing here for the past fifty minutes because Seungcheol was punctual and a little paranoid about being late to meetings. He took his day off from his part-time job. So, he could enjoy his evening with his soon-to-be boyfriend.

Seungcheol was pretty straightforward in these things; they'd kissed, so the next course of action was naturally to go on an official date where Seungcheol would ask Joshua to be his boyfriend.

"Wow, you know how to read a watch. Should I give babycheol a star?" Seungkwan shook his head.

Seungcheol hissed, "Aish— you brat. You're forty minutes late, and you're acting this way towards me?"

Seungkwan raked a hand through his hair. "I also didn't agree to come."

"Anyway. Help me get dressed for a special occasion." Seungcheol ignored him.

"And why would I do that?"

"Because you need my notes to survive your next year."

"True. Can't argue with that logic. What's the occasion?"

"I'm asking Shua out."

Seungkwan's eyes turned round, carrying genuine glee in their curls. "FINALLLYYY." He smacked the back of Seungcheol's hand. "Why didn't you start with that? We've wasted so much time because of you."

He turned on his heel and dragged Seungcheol to the showroom of high-end brands.

The store was a mixture of bright lights and ivory mannequins dressed in designer clothes.

A girl from the counter walked up to them, her hair leather-back in a bun. Her name tag read Hyeri.

She slightly bowed. "How can I help you?"

Seungcheol skimmed through the store's collections. They had jackets, suits, and casual garments. He might find something useful here.

He returned the gesture with a smile. "We'll look ourselves."

"Of course. Feel free to find me if you need anything." She went back to her desk and almost instantly got busy on her phone.

Seungkwan pushed him to the side and went hunting for date-worthy attire that wouldn't get his hyung rejected.

He came back bearing a pile of clothes. "Show me how you look."

Seungcheol took the bundle obediently by the feel of the fabric; he was sure he was going to regret it.

The first T-shirt was see-through net. Seungcheol came outside, shielding his hands on his chest. "This does not feel good."

Seungkwan jumped a little on his feet. "Put your man boobs on display. Everyone loves boobs."

"I'm not gonna do that."

"Unc alert!" Seungkwan yelled.

Seungcheol rummaged through the pile of clothes, only to realise every article there was too revealing. He pushed it into Seungkwan's hands and left to fend for himself. Mentally cursing himself for calling Seungkwan.

He went for a white fur jacket. The moment his hands touched the fabric. He felt Seungkwan's eyes drilling holes at the back of his head.

"Wow hyung, your ability to pick the worst shirts needs to be studied. It's truly a talent at this point." He came to stand next to him.

"Can you not bully me for one second?" Seungcheol whined.

Seungkwan was visibly offended. "Can't a man do both?" He exasperated. "You asked me to come here. You know my meanness is a combo deal. You will have my help and my woe together."

Seungcheol was already gone. Seungkwan could see his frame peeking from the left altar.

"Okay, fine. so.. we're getting this." Seungcheol pointed to a black fitted T-shirt with a simple denim jacket.

Seungkwan gave him the eyes, but nodded yes. "Fine if you wanna be boring."

The TV was playing a trailer for one of Jeonghan's new movies. He slowly turned to Seungcheol while he took the article to the counter. "Um— Jeonghan hyung kissed you, right?"

Seungcheol didn't look at him. "Who told you that?"

"You drunk-talk."

Seungcheol shook his head, shaking the images out of his head— a young Jeonghan, a younger version of himself talking on the roof when it happened.

"He might have kissed me, but he liked Joshua from the start. I don't understand what made him kiss me, but he always liked him. I was honestly shocked out of my ass when it happened because I didn't expect it at all."

Seungkwan leaned on the counter. "Is that why you don't talk to him?"

"No… it was just— it's something between me and him. No one gets what he does, why he does it."

"Is he going to be okay… knowing you're gonna ask Shua hyung out?" Seungkwan was playing with the tags. Every now and then, his eyes would glance up at the simmering TV. It still played something Jeonghan was in.

"He's an adult. He can handle himself." Seungcheol collected the paper bag. He finally looked at Seungkwan, who abruptly turned off the TV.

He awkwardly passed a smile, which rubbed Seungcheol the wrong way.

"Iced tea on me." Seungkwan mused with his hands up in the air.

Seungcheol didn't try to think too much of it.

"Where's your phone?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Just give it to me."

"No…"

"Hyung... please."

Seungcheol patted down his pants to look for his phone. When did his phone turn off? His phone rang with accumulated notifications. "Wait, why do I have so many notifications?"

Seungcheol read it once. Then again. The rest of the article stayed blurred.

So, this happened.

He looked at the clock— it struck 5:45 PM. He was supposed to meet Joshua at 7. If he left now—if he— there had to be some explanation, right? Joshua wouldn't just. Then it hits Seungcheol— their first kiss.

It had happened before.

"Do you wanna get drunk instead?" He asked, eyes following the concrete of the road.

Seungcheol was fine. He had been here. He might be here again.

⭒ ☆ ˚｡📽 ⁠∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° ✧˖ °

It happened when Seungcheol still lived across from Joshua. The summer was kind that year, with its placid sun forming a thin coat of love on everything. Seungcheol had come home from football practice, his jersey sticking to him as his sweat dripped down his body.

Joshua was already in his room, lying on his bed on his stomach with a script propped in his hands.

Seungcheol knocked softly, not to startle Joshua from the loop of his thoughts.

It had been a while since they almost kissed in the mall. Seungcheol almost said something he wasn't sure was true. The thing that stung wasn't that Joshua angled his head slightly away when Seungcheol moved closer; it wasn't that. It was this— Joshua pretending that it never happened. He didn't see Seungcheol move closer and turned his face away.

"Shua-ya?" Seungcheol mused from behind, putting his gym bag in the corner.

Joshua turned on his elbows, his eyes drowsy as if he had been concentrating for long hours now the exhaustion clung to his eyes. He yawned and went back to the papers in his hands.

"Still busy with these?" Seungcheol sat at the end of the bed.

There was this silence that Seungcheol never learned to read, the poetry of Joshua's lips that he never understood, the religion of Joshua's eyes when they wander around the room and land like an arrow at Seungcheol's heart.

"I don't think I can do this." Joshua sat up and scooted closer to Seungcheol— handing him the papers. His voice was thin as he said this, "I don't think I'm enough for this scene."

Seungcheol skimmed through the lines— The character Joshua played was in love with someone who didn't like him back, and this scene required him to kiss the lead actor and call it a mistake the next day.

Fuck that felt personal to Seungcheol. He made a mental note to himself to NOT watch this movie whenever it comes out.

"I can help. We can do this." Seungcheol suggested, with his chest puffed out and nose held high.

"You will?" Joshua beamed at Seungcheol's words.

"Yes. So, what we gotta do?"

"Page 4. 16th scene."

Seungcheol shuffled through thin white sheets and landed on page 4 and his eyes run to 16th scene.

Character A pushes B into the mattress and kisses him.

He stared at it. He stared at Joshua. He stared back at the line.

Without giving it much thought, he shifted in Joshua's space. He read his eyes first; Joshua knew what was coming, and still Seungcheol dropped to his knees and whispered against Joshua's lips, "I'm gonna kiss you… is that okay?"

Joshua nodded.

In a few seconds, Seungcheol had his lips over Joshua's. Seungcheol didn't know what he was doing; he was trying to mimic the characters he had seen kiss on screen. He pushed Joshua onto his back, pressing him against the bed; it dipped lower as Seungcheol placed both hands on either side of Joshua's head.

Joshua reacted. His moan melted into Seungcheol's mouth. He kissed like he had practiced, which made Seungcheol wonder if he had kissed anyone before. Jeonghan maybe? He mentally slapped himself for thinking that and pulled himself back at the mercy of Joshua's mouth. Joshua had his hands wandering in Seungcheol's hair. Oh, how that made Seungcheol lose all of his demeanor. He was dizzy from the euphoric wave of joy that settled under his skin; kissing Joshua might have awakened something insatiable in him.

Before he could come down from the high, his mouth moved first. His words swelled inside Joshua's mouth: "I like this." \

The sheet rustled underneath. Joshua pawed at Seungcheol's arms to keep himself from flowing away. It was Joshua who said it first, voice ragged; he heaved, trying to anchor himself back to earth. "I like you, Cheol."

And Seungcheol, who thought this unattainable thing would never come knocking on his door— knocked for the first time. If it weren't for Joshua to still hold him, Seungcheol would've floated away.

"I like you, too." He replied, just as wrecked.

Seungcheol mirrored Joshua's face. He saw his own reflection lying in the brown of Joshua's.

The thing was, when Seungcheol said I like you too. He meant it. He forgot about the scene; he forgot about the pretrending, which honestly felt less and less like pretrending.

"That was great. You should come to auditions with me." Joshua amused. A thread of saliva still connecting the two. Seungcheol wondered who was it of— who held them a little longer when they pulled apart.

Maybe Seungcheol was good at acting. He sure was acting the hell out, but the words that branched out of his mouth didn't flower his actual feelings. He smiled when he wanted to rip his head apart; he walked Joshua home when he wanted to lock himself up. After that day, Seungcheol recoiled. He tried hiding these larger-than-his-ribs feelings inside.

The production of the movie was cancelled, but what remained was the warmth of Joshua's lips on Seungcheol's.

⭒ ☆ ˚｡📽 ⁠∘⁠˚⁠˳⁠° ✧˖ °

Joshua had been trying to get in touch with Seungcheol since he woke up, but Seungcheol's phone was off. 

He remembered the kiss. He remembered Seungcheol gasping for air, face flushed hot, and asking him, "Do you like me, Jisoo? Will you kiss me tomorrow when there's no alcohol clouding your judgment?"

God, he hoped he didn't dream the whole thing. It was too vivid for a dream, but the aftermath was telling him otherwise. 

Joshua often dreamt of them being together. He often thought of Seungcheol as someone who was like a tree— just there. It began as an innocent crush in middle school. When everyone bought cookies for their valentines, Joshua did the same, except Seungcheol's desk was filled with so many candies he never realised Joshua had also always gotten him one. Then Joshua began to think of himself as someone Seungcheol loved so much as a friend that he would let him do anything. He began to test that a lot. Even kissed him under the guise of "script," and Seungcheol, being Seungcheol he accepted it. So, when Joshua claimed it to be a fake "I like you," even though he meant he expected Seungcheol to feel hurt. But that moron just smiled and nodded. 

He got a call from Jeonghan.

"You lost." was the first thing Joshua heard.

"Lost what?"

"I got a boyfriend before you do."

"Mingyu?"

"Duh. I'm taking you to help me buy something coupley for him."

"Okay."

Joshua was happy for Jeonghan. He would have been a bit more happier if Seungcheol wasn't actively ghosting him right now. 

He looked at the clock. He'd be able to make it back before Seungcheol's shift ended.

Joshua checked his phone one last time before leaving. There was still no message.

Seungcheol's voice ruminating in his head: "We'll talk tomorrow. I'll take you out, and we'll talk about this."

Scene 5

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Seungcheol didn't drink much. The pit in his stomach went voracious. It hurt to even gulp down water. He sent Seungkwan home a long time ago. It was just him and the staff making their last round of cleaning before closing the shop.

It was two in the morning. His phone died somewhere between when he called the cab and when he kept on insisting to call Joshua.

He didn't remember much about the drive over. Where he got dropped from how long he walked home.

The elivator of 8th floor opened with a ding. It was pretty dark aside from the warm light that spilled through the hallways. Seungcheol put his keys inside the door, and abruptly his eyes caught on a silhouette sitting beside the plant.

Who let this drunkard into the building?

Before Seungcheol could make a move, the guy looked up at him and hummed a low, "Cheol?"

Holyfucking fuck.

Seungcheol was quick on his feet. The bags scattered away on the ground. "What—what are you doing? Are you okay?"

Joshua stood up. His face unreadable. He leaned down to rest his head over Seungcheol's shoulders. Joshua wore a white henley with blue acid-washed jeans. On a good day, Seungcheol would moon about this, but today it felt like a dagger to his chest.

"Where were you?" Joshua asked into Seungcheol's skin. His voice was too dull and pale.

Seungcheol tried not to crack himself open to cave Joshua into his ribs. "I was out with Kwan."

"Why didn't you reply to my texts?"

"What are you doing here? It's two in the fucking morning. How long have you been here?"

"Since 7:30."

"You were just sitting here since then?"

Joshua fixed his gaze on Seungcheol. His eyes were deprived of their usual twinkle. He looked in pain. "I couldn't find you. You were not at work or the library anywhere, and you won't reply to my texts."

Seungcheol marveled at Joshua's empty hand. There was no ring. 

Joshua looked up, a strand blocking over his eyes. "Why didn't you just say that kissing me means nothing to you?"

Seungcheol tucked his hair behind. Joshua felt feverishly warm under his padded touch. "But it means everything to me." He decided then to be naked of his feelings. He needed to be brave for once. Even if it was gonna cost everything. Even if it was gonna cost him, Joshua. 

Joshua could only gape at him, his words shrank in his throat. 

Seungcheol opened the door and brought Joshua in. He sat him down on the couch. In those moments when Joshua didn't move away from Seungcheol's warmth, that was where he lived. He stared at Joshua's face for another three breaths. "I love you. I have loved you for as long as I can remember. These feelings were always there. It's just amplified over the years."

Seungcheol didn't realise when his face moved away from Joshua; it was when Joshua lifted his face by the chin that Seungcheol came to the realisation that he had been staring at the floor all this time. "I love you, too. I'm sorry. I was just scared that you only thought of me as your best friend. I was sure if you didn't feel the same way, I could always try and make you like me."

Seungcheol believed he was a grave craving to hold Joshua's body in it. A coffin made to carry him, a promise made on the flesh, a quiver before a sob. Seungcheol believed a lot of things, but none of those held Joshua like a lover. He never thought he was capable of that. So, when Joshua said it with this crack in his voice that it weighed on him as much as it did Seungcheol— he felt a knot come undone across his chest.

He chuckled and held Joshua's hands in his, "You're the easiest thing to love in this whole world. I'm sorry for making you wait so much. I'm—"

Joshua sealed their lips in a searing kiss. This time Seungcheol didn't have to act, didn't have to wait for tomorrow to arrive. He had Joshua now and every moment that would come next.

Loving is a sincere act.

Seungcheol thinks he is, at least.

It's there when he looks for Joshua.

It's there when he sleeps next to him, counting his breath with his chest.

It's when he peels oranges for him so he won't get his hands dirty.

It's when he kisses him in places only God can.

His mouth—Seungcheol's religion, Joshua's eyes his relic, loving him is prayer

And Seungcheol's always been sincere about it.

The end.