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Sangwon cries very easily.
It’s what Geonwoo had realized eleven years ago, in the heart of Sangwon’s childhood home, when Sangwon's mother praised him for successfully peeling and cutting a mango into neat pieces, making little Sangwon whine—because the boy was afraid of holding a knife, and once he did, his fingers couldn't peel the skin without puncturing too much of the flesh.
The first time he saw Sangwon cry, little Geonwoo panicked. It was his first day visiting his elementary school friend's house, and he had already made the boy cry? Was he to blame for this incident?
But he saw Sangwon's mother shaking her head, almost rolling her eyes, even.
"It's okay, Geonwoo. Sangwon’s a bit sensitive. Well, maybe not a bit. But it's nothing serious."
He couldn’t ignore it when little water droplets were still coming out of Sangwon’s eyes, his frustration making his hands press the mango pieces too hard that they became mushy. He wouldn’t be able to peel the mangoes right if he kept doing that, Geonwoo thought.
Sangwon just wanted to peel the fucking mango, but he couldn't, and Geonwoo could, and his mother admired him because he could. Sangwon could only grumble and wipe away the tears from his eyes because that was all he could do when the world disappoints him.
“Sangwon-ah, it’s okay if you can’t cut the mango,” Sangwon's mother said softly, gently stroking his trembling shoulder.
“B-but Geonwoo... Geonwoo..”
Sangwon persisted, seeing how perfectly the mango skin was scraped off by Geonwoo and the knife. Sangwon hated being imperfect. He felt like he had to be able to do everything to stop himself from pulling his hair out in frustration and let those tears out again.
Geonwoo knows how to cook. How to peel and cut mangoes. How to get a full mark in maths. But he never knew how to comfort a crying person. It’s not like it’s rocket science—but none of his friends have ever cried in front of him once. Except Sangwon, who has tears all over his eyes right now—all that over mangoes.
But Geonwoo is gentle, he always was. Even when he was only a nine year old boy who knew nothing about this world. He knew what it’s like to be gentle even when he didn’t know what love is.
So Geonwoo then looked at Sangwon, with the gentlest intensity of a gaze that a clueless nine year old boy could give to his same aged friend.
“Sangwon? It’s okay, you don’t need to be able to peel it. I can peel it for you,”
Sangwon shook his head, eyes still focused on his hands peeling the mangoes.
“No, Geonwoo! I want to be able to cut the mangoes myself!”
“..Sangwon-ah, i’d peel it for you, over and over again.”
Geonwoo is now so used to Sangwon’s usual outburst and eyes brimmed with tears. How couldn’t he, when they were attached by the hip, and Geonwoo would do everything for it to stay that way—even when he didn’t understand why.
Some nasty boys in sixth grade used to secretly mock Sangwon in the locker rooms. Laughing over his sentimentality, his softness, how it’s so easy for him to get upset and cry over little things.
“That boy Sangwon—is he even a boy? He cries too much.”
“I bet he don’t even like girls. Who would ever like someone—“
“Shut. Up.”
Sangwon was then wholly confused seeing Geonwoo in the detention rooms for the first time in his life. Even more confused when the teacher said he got in detention for punching another boy from sixth grade.
His Geonwoo was gentle. It’s not like he wouldn’t hurt a fly, but Geonwoo would never punch a boy.
Atleast, Sangwon knew Geonwoo would never punch him.
“I don’t know why I did that. They were—they were just being annoying.”
“Liar. You would never do that to anyone without a reason, Geonwoo. Be serious.”
“Just let me be, Sangwon!”
And Geonwoo lied. Because he felt bubbly and pathetic and helpless trying to say that he punched a boy because he wanted to protect Sangwon. The confusion is becoming a growing unnamed ache in his heart—and for the very first time, he feels like he could cry in front of someone. In front of Sangwon.
But he didn’t.
They both were fifteen when Sangwon made another person cry.
It was a girl, a beautiful one at that. Her eyes were always shimmering and her hands were always shaking every time she looked at Sangwon, but her presence was so awfully delicate it made Geonwoo think about how nice it must be to be a pretty girl who would always look bewitching even when she was jittering in anxiety.
Geonwoo thinks Sangwon isn’t much different.
Delicate. Pretty. Even when he cries.
The thought made Geonwoo want to shut himself down.
“I’m so, sorry—You’re really nice, the nicest, and I really appreciate everything you did to me, but I,I—I don’t think I can return your feelings. I’m sorry. You deserve someone better than me.”
Geonwoo peeked between the small gap of the empty classroom door, seeing the action going on in real time. The girl confessed to Sangwon, and Sangwon awkwardly rejected her, voice laced with guilt.
“No, Sangwon—it’s okay, it really is. It’s not like I expected you to return it, I'm just—just, Ah, wait a minute, I—“
Tears were starting to drip from her eyes. Sangwon knows it all too well, so he instinctively puts a hand on her shoulders, careful to not put too much pressure, but enough to give comfort. It’s stupid because he knows he’s the reason why the girl is crying, but comforting her is the least he can do.
“I’m so sorry, do you.. do you want a tissue?” Sangwon said, trying hard to not let himself get drowned in sentimentality. Or else he would cry too. Maybe he really is too soft for this world.
“No! It’s okay! Really! I just wanted to get that out of my head, and I'm really grateful for your response too. I mean.. I cried and you’re not, like, weirded out. And you offered some kind of comfort, i guess—i guess that’s why i have always liked you,” the girl rambled again, the truth blurbing out of her naturally like a breath she didn’t know she was holding.
“Well, I.. cry a lot too,” Sangwon awkwardly responded, before he realized how foolish that answer was. A girl who liked him is currently crying in close proximity in front of him, and he’s saying bullshit about how he’s not much different than her.
But the girl giggled anyway.
“Yeah. It’s cute, though.”
“Really?” Sangwon was puzzled, for the very first time it felt like the one trait of him he always wanted to keep hidden did wonders for this world.
“You’re.. honest. And you’re not afraid to be yourself. Middle school is the time for boys our age to be stupid and reckless, always chasing validation for themselves. But you’re kinda just.. there, being yourself. It’s honestly endearing. But anyways, thank you, Sangwon. I’ll be going back home,” said the girl, trying her best to form sentences even as her voice croaked.
“Oh—are you—are you okay? Can you go home by yourself? Do you want me to—”
“No, it’s okay, Sangwon. My brother is picking me up.”
“Oh. Okay. Um—drive home safely? And uh—I, you know. We can still be friends and… yeah. Sorry. I’m so bad at this.”
The girl nodded and giggled again between her tears, and before Sangwon could come out with some other stupid response, she already made her way out of the empty classroom, leaving Sangwon alone by himself, pondering.
In between his train of thoughts, a familiar voice spoke up, cutting through the silence.
“Well of course you fumbled the prettiest girl in our class.”
Sangwon turned his head around, finding his best friend yet again.
“Geonwoo? Wait—you heard all that? I asked you to wait for me, not to follow me here! What if she saw you listening to all that? She would think i’m one of those annoying boys who talk shit to their friends about girls who confessed to them!”
Sangwon rambled, ears reddening with embarrassment, and Geonwoo just sat in the empty seat, letting out a quiet laugh.
“Don’t worry. I pretended that I was simply walking through the corridor when she left the classroom.”
“But you heard all of it?”
“Well.. yeah.”
Sangwon pouted, crossing both of his hands together in front of his chest. “Don’t tease me about it. You know this is the first time anyone has ever confessed to me.”
“That’s kind of surprising.”
“What is?”
“That no one has ever confessed to you before.”
The boy rolled his eyes, fully sure that his best friend was teasing him about it. “Well sorry then, for not being a straight A-student athlete-class president who get love letters from girls each day, like you are.”
“No, I didn't mean it like that! It’s because you’re.. pretty.”
“I’m.. what?”
The words came out of Geonwoo’s mouth before he was able to stop it.
“Pretty. Like, really pretty. Maybe that’s why Yuna liked you too. Because she’s really pretty and she probably likes other pretty people.”
Geonwoo doesn’t even know what he’s saying anymore.
“So you’re saying I'm pretty.. like.. girl pretty?”
Pretty like a girl. The words spoken out sting through Geonwoo’s flesh, right through his heart.
“I—i mean, well, maybe? But, wait, it’s not a bad thing—not in a bad way, because, you know—“
“Chill, Geonwoo. I’m not offended. It’s a nice compliment. I like it.”
Sangwon smiled, and Geonwoo felt relief rushing in his veins.
“You know, about that. I think I realized something, Geonwoo. But i.. I don't know if you’d like it.”
Geonwoo’s eyebrows furrowed as he saw Sangwon’s expression hardened, as if he was thinking too hard about something, weighing all the possibilities if he said it out loud.
There’s nothing I would ever dislike from you, Geonwoo thought. But never said.
“You can say anything to me.”
Sangwon’s eyes glowed like embers.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
The boy closed his eyes for a millisecond, then breathed the air in and out. Geonwoo’s heart beat faster in anticipation, not knowing whatever it is Sangwon caged in secrecy.
“I think I don't like girls. I think I only like boys.”
Geonwoo felt like he could combust.
“O-oh—that’s..”
Sangwon bit his lip, watching every move of Geonwoo’s eyes and lips, trying to find any trace of disgust or hatred bestowed upon him.
“Do you hate me? Do you still want to be friends with me?”
Never have Geonwoo shook his head ever so fast, because, God, he could never hate Sangwon and he could never ever hate Sangwon for liking a boy. Geonwoo does not know much about whatever Sangwon is going through, but one thing he knows is that no one should ever be punished for being different. Especially if it’s Sangwon.
Especially if it’s Sangwon.
So why is he feeling so fuzzy up in his head?
“Sangwon, I'm okay with it. There’s also nothing wrong about it. And I swear to god, I'll punch anyone else in the world who thinks otherwise.”
Sangwon let out a faint laugh. “Just like those boys in sixth grade?”
Geonwoo felt heat flaming in his body.
“You.. knew? About it?”
Sangwon only nodded, warmth lighting up his small face. “Of course I knew, dumbass. I asked the teacher responsible for giving detentions and he said that you punched them because they were saying weird shit about me. Don’t know why he still thought you were deserving of detention, though.”
“That motherfucker. Can’t believe he still punished me for punching a bunch of bullies.”
It was so sudden when Sangwon moved his body forward a little bit too close in Geonwoo’s proximity, his skin shivering in between an unnamed emotion.
“You really care about me, do you?”
“I—“
The air was flowing in through the louvers in the window. Spring is about to end, and summer is peeking in the corner ready to storm in, but the weather still isn’t particularly hot. Not cold either. Yet, Geonwoo could feel his skin sweating and everything near him felt like it could burn—upon Sangwon’s simple question.
Of course he does. Of course he fucking does.
But that’s not what he said.
“So you like a boy now, huh?”
“What?”
“Well, if you realized this just now, then there’s probably a boy you’re falling for now, right?”
Sangwon blinked, biting on his lips again as he stared quietly at Geonwoo with eyes full of hesitation. Geonwoo thinks that Sangwon could convey words with just his huge eyes, the pace of his blinking wavered some kind of uncertainty, and yet, Geonwoo’s sure there’s something so soft hidden underneath.
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“Yeah.”
“But you liked a boy before.. right?”
There it is again. A twinkle of doubt in Sangwon’s piercing eyes. Geonwoo would pay a huge amount to know what he’s always thinking in his little head.
“Yeah. I guess.”
The answer isn’t surprising, but Geonwoo could feel his heart jumping out of his chest.
“Who..?”
“Just.. someone.”
“Are you seriously not telling your best friend who your ex-crush is?”
“No.”
Geonwoo was supposed to be annoying, attacking Sangwon with neverending questions just so he could get an answer to fulfill his curiosity. They’re best friends, for god’s sake. They bicker for laughs and giggles a lot. Geonwoo could jokingly tackle him down to make Sangwon speak out his secrets.
But he didn’t. And for reasons he can’t disclose, Geonwoo chose to not know.
Whoever that person is who took Sangwon’s heart.
The tables turned so differently in high school. Sangwon has never been unpopular—he’s just more shy, compared to his class president best friend who aces every class. It never bothers Sangwon that people used to think that he’s following Geonwoo like a shadow, he enjoys his break times reading books on the corner of the class anyway.
But high school was different, people were different, and Sangwon became different too.
He still loved reading, he was still a bit shy, and he’s definitely still the sentimental boy who cried because he wasn’t able to peel a mango. But in high school, Sangwon finally learned how to embody the word ‘pretty,’ exactly like what Geonwoo told him a few years ago.
Sangwon discovered makeup, to later discover that his favorite thing to do is to stuff up some blush to his under cheeks, showing a bit of pink that highlights his slender face. Sometimes he would also wear a slightly tinted lipbalm—giving his lips a subtle glow that makes people turn their head a little longer everytime Sangwon passed them.
People admired him for it. Girls, boys, everyone came to Sangwon like they’re panning for gold in the streams.
And Sangwon loved every bit of the attention. He bathed in the glory, always smiling a little bit wider when he sees a love letter in his locker.
Geonwoo? not so much. He stopped doing sports to focus on his studies, but the thing about enrolling in one of the most prestigious high schools in your city, is that everyone there is smart, and a lot of them there were also pretty. It’s not a rare thing, and even though Geonwoo thinks he might fit both of those categories, Sangwon stands on another level.
It’s the third time they went to the same school together. So first of all, Sangwon was already smart enough to study in the best school in town. Second of all, Sangwon apparently has the perfect kind of beauty to attract both girls and boys.
In high school, Geonwoo figured out that a lot of girls have a type for pretty boys. He thought about Yuna from eighth grade who confessed to Sangwon.
And, the boys.. Well, some of them liked boys.
Sangwon has always felt awfully guilty to the girls who confessed to him truthfully, just like Yuna back then. Everytime a girl confessed her love to him, he always answered with a tone laced with softness, a smile that could heal lives, and the palms of his hands attached together, muttering thousands of apologies.
But it’s not the same for boys.
Sangwon never cared. Leejeong from the class next to them once asked Sangwon to be his boyfriend, and Sangwon said he could try. Two weeks later, he came back to Geonwoo’s arms, laying his head on Geonwoo’s lap on a casual afternoon. Sangwon was drowsy, murmuring something about how he dislikes Leejeong’s sweet tooth and how they are officially in no contact now.
“You’re so mean. You could’ve just told him about how you prefer seafood, or even fried chicken take-outs, rather than cake shop dates all week. It’s literally so easy, Sangwon. Dating ethics 101. Communication.”
“Well no, because I never said that I dated him, didn't I? I told him that I could try it out first. It’s practically a talking stage,” said Sangwon as he tried to defend himself, forming a glare full of disbelief in Geonwoo’s face.
“You’re not supposed to make out with your talking stage, dumbass.”
“Well you don’t even have any talking stages, like, at all. Kim Geonwoo, out of all people, still bitchless in high school?”
“Don’t care. I’m busy studying. I don’t need love anyways.”
“Okay then, Mr. Anti-Romantic. Grades are forever, love doesn’t matter, am I right?”
Sangwon chuckled, head still laying on Geonwoo’s lap with his legs lazily sprawled on the sofa in his living room. This position has always been familiar, after years and years of being friends. Geonwoo thinks there’s nothing more natural than the way Sangwon leans on him every time he feels worn out or sleepy.
There’s something so faint in the air that tells him that these kinds of afternoons is where he and Sangwon have the entire world all to themselves, clutched in his palm.
Sangwon could be blabbering about another boy—either with lovesickness or disgust, and yet, the shoulder he chose to lean on is still Geonwoo’s anyway.
Geonwoo felt selfish.
He wants to treasure this moment forever.
Sangwon cries a lot over things. Once, he came to Geonwoo’s home—only to wet his new T-shirt with tears, when Puffy, his pet goldfish died. Geonwoo thought people only form connections with cats, dogs, rabbits.. maybe hamsters. But of course his little sentimental best friend succeeded in forming a somewhat emotional bond to a little goldfish he bought from some random man in the street.
Other than that, Sangwon cried about many other things. Like his mother, when she kept comparing him to his sisters. And then there was a book called The Little Prince, where Sangwon bursted into tears as he kept blabbering about the beauty of childlike wonders while convincing Geonwoo to read the book.
But there’s one thing Sangwon never cried over.
Boys.
Geonwoo would never understand why. He thinks he’s so much more of a logical person rather than Sangwon who carries his vulnerability in a delicate glass box in his chest. Yet, it always seems like Sangwon would willingly let his romantic life slip away from his hands—no commitments, all things casual, never actually staying.
Geonwoo would never do that. He thinks love is sacred, fragile, and would break if it is not proceeded with caution.
There was Leejeong, some senior named Junseo, then another boy named Kangmin.. Geonwoo’s sure there are other names but it was so fleeting he couldn’t even remember.
“You dated Kangmin for like.. almost six months? That’s pretty long for your standards. And now you’re broken up and you’re not even sad? Are you serious, Sangwon?”
“No, I'm not sad. Is it really that important to you?”
Geonwoo thought about a girl he dated last year. He thinks it was just some foolish puppy love, nothing serious and major, but the breakup was so saddening to him, he couldn’t even eat for a whole day.
Meanwhile, Sangwon was now enjoying his ice cream together with him in the nearest cafe from their school. There was zero tension in his brows, no hint of concern in his softly rounded eyes.
“I don’t get you.”
“You don't have to,” Sangwon sneered, hands still scooping ice cream with the little spoon.
“You’re crazy, Sangwon. Do you know that?”
Geonwoo took a bite of his own ice cream, the contrast of the sweetness of chocolate and the refreshing sensation of mint taking over his taste buds before he could realize that he smeared a dot of cream in the corner of his lips.
“Hey idiot, you smudged the ice cream over there,” Sangwon pointed out, his index finger touching the corner of his own lip, pinpointing the exact spot where Geonwoo smudged the ice cream.
“Oh—”
Before Geonwoo could clean his own mess, Sangwon leaned in without caution. His thumb gently brushed against the corner of Geonwoo’s lip, the fleeting brush of their skins went away too fast before Geonwoo was able to say anything. No longer than a second did Sangwon’s hand touch his skin—but the sensation lingered in his skin for too long, tingling something in his stomach.
“That’s why I always choose to eat ice cream in cups. Not cones. Too much of a hassle for my pretty face,” Sangwon declared, seemingly oblivious to the hint of red in Geonwoo’s cheeks.
“Oh. Well. I know that of course, that’s why I ordered it like that.”
The corners of Sangwon’s mouth curved into a smile. “Mhm. 2 scoops, chocolate and vanilla with a cup. You know me best, Geonwoo.”
“Yeah.”
“Oh, and, about Kangmin, do you know that even after six months, he still can’t remember my favorite ice cream flavor, nor the fact that I always prefer using cups, rather than cones? Listen, I'm not breaking up with him for no reason. He never even tried to watch my favorite movies, or try to resonate with the sentimentality I have with my favorite books—”
“—That’s why I'd much rather be friends with you.”
You know how people often say that mint chocolate tastes like toothpaste? Geonwoo disagrees, very keen on believing that the flavour is the definition of perfection hand-crafted by the ice cream gods.
But when Sangwon said that, the flavour turned unbelievingly sour in his mouth.
Geonwoo realizes he knows too much about Sangwon. Of course, he knows how Sangwon prefers his ice cream in cups, because it’s easier to handle when the cream starts to melt. He knows how Sangwon loves to read with one hand, and rest his chin on the other. When Sangwon likes a scene, he likes to touch and trace the paper, reading the sentence all over and over again, as if those words can speak out and come to life.
That's what years and years of being best friends does to you, Geonwoo thought. Although it’s leaving a bittersweet taste as he chewed his ice cream down, thinking that not one of Sangwon’s boyfriends has known Sangwon more than he does.
“Sangwon?”
“What?”
“I’d.. I'd rather be friends with you too. Rather than.. rather than.. anything, really.”
Sangwon’s smile is so warm as he looked back at Geonwoo, heavy with tenderness that goes against his usual banters—and it made Geonwoo’s heart ache, because vulnerability and emotions were never his forte, it was Sangwon’s, but he could never have the guts to tell Sangwon about whatever made his stomach flip over every little thing, over Sangwon’s tender stares, Sangwon’s bubbly laugh, Sangwon’s unguarded smiles.
“Nothing will ever beat our friendship, Geonwoo, we’ve known each other for far too long.”
It’s better to stay this way, Geonwoo reassures himself.
The school gym polished to become a ballroom was buzzing with the bursting joy of third-year high school students finally graduating. The wooden floor is accompanied with spotlights shimmering in certain spots, beautified with streamers sagged from the ceiling. A student who seemed already breathless from dancing bumped into Geonwoo, running as he screamed that this will be the best night of their lives.
Geonwoo doesn’t think he agrees.
Still in his suit that feels slightly itchy in his neck, he looked at his phone, waiting for a certain someone who isn’t yet catched by his eyes.
You
Sangwon? Where are you? Why haven't you answered my chat?
Do you want me to pick you up?
Oh wait sorry. Do you already have a date or something
Sangwon
hi .. um, i catched a cold last night. still isn’t gone. and my head hurts. im not going, geonwoo. but you should. go have the best night of ur life!!!
You
Sangwon are you serious? You should’ve told me sooner. Are you still in your house?
Sangwon
if i told you sooner, then you wouldn’t even go to prom.
You
Yeah.
And i still won’t
Right after he closed his messenger app, the slow song starts to play, denoting the couples that it’s time for them to find each other’s arms and get engulfed in the music as they slowly danced with each other below the dimmed lights.
But none of those were able to tug the emotions out of his chest when his best friend wasn't standing beside him in a suit, with his slightly tousled hair falling in soft, uneven strands—slightly tinted lips that curved into a gentle smile.
Sangwon wasn’t here.
And none of the shimmering lights, loud music, nor the bursting of laughter and the several friends who tried to pull his hands to keep him inside the ballroom could ever stop him from falling back to Sangwon.
Sangwon was left genuinely stunned when he opened the door to find Geonwoo with his messy hair, ties slightly undone, and sweat glistening in his skin—probably from running. He purposefully informed Geonwoo late just so he could be sure that the prom had gone far enough so Geonwoo wouldn’t bother to skip it just so he can visit him—but there he was, his best friend, standing there like a lost puppy.
“You’re supposed to be at prom, Geonwoo. What the hell. You were always excited about it. Last night of high school yadda yadda. Why the hell are you here?”
Geonwoo shrugged, unfazed as he stepped inside Sangwon’s house. “You said the same thing too.”
Truthfully, Geonwoo could care less about prom. It was Sangwon who kept talking about prom with glitter in his eyes, and the reason the event made Geonwoo feel giddy is because he was so sure Sangwon would be there, smiling, all dolled up and pretty beside him.
“Whatever. What about your date?”
“I don’t even have one.”
Sangwon snorted. “Oh, well, of course you don’t.”
“What about you, Mr. Heartthrob?” Geonwoo asked, trying his best to suppress the beating in his chest.
“I.. also don’t.”
“Wait, seriously?”
A bit of his cheeks was flushed, a tad of embarrassment washing over his face. “Well, it was supposed to be Kangmin. He already proposed to me to be his date too but—well, y’know, the breakup.”
“Knowing you, you could’ve bagged literally anyone else a day after the breakup.”
“I was too tired to find anyone else. No one was interesting enough. And besides, I knew you never cared enough to find a date anyways. So i thought i could just go with you,” Sangwon said, the last part came out of his mouth so soft—almost as if he didn’t want it to be heard.
But Geonwoo did hear it. As clear as the sound of a bell ringing.
“I-I mean, we could have gone there as friends, together.”
The clarification isn’t really doing much soothing to the loud drum sounds in Geonwoo’s heart.
He decided to ignore the unsettling twist in his stomach (it’s probably already the 100th time since it appeared.) And lean forward to touch Sangwon’s forehead with his bare hands.
“You’re burning up,” he murmured, thumb slightly brushing Sangwon’s hair strands.
“No shit, Sherlock.”
“Where are your parents? And your sisters?”
“They went to my sister’s college graduation, remember my sister who studied in Japan? Yeah, so they’re practically having a mini holiday now. I didn’t come because I was so keen on going to prom, but I got so sick literally the night before, so.. yeah.”
“Oh, you poor thing.” Geonwoo didn’t even realize that his hands were still stuck on Sangwon’s forehead, lingering on the hairline.
It was when Sangwon—maybe instinctively, leaned his head to Geonwoo’s touch that made him pull back his palms, heart beating out of his chest.
“Geonwoo, you’re gonna be sick.”
“I don’t care.”
The house was dim, clearly Sangwon didn’t mind turning on all the lights when he was the only one staying there. The light was on only above the sofa, where a pillow and a blanket lay in a messy heap. The television was also on, so Sangwon probably spent his time watching a movie while he laid down in his couch.
The intimacy of it juxtaposed the roaring chaos of prom. He’s standing there, his velvet tuxedo with a messy tie, and then there’s Sangwon—with an oversized hoodie that hung loosely on him, hair tousled above his sleepy eyes, and knee-length pants covering his slim legs.
He looks like.. home.
“If you’re really going to accompany me for the night, go change your clothes. Just wear mine. I know you hate wearing suits.”
“Oh. Right.”
Geonwoo came back from Sangwon’s room wearing the loosest and longest shirt he could find, struggling to find the piece in between Sangwon’s usual fitted and cropped shirts.
“Do you even have any normal clothes, Sangwon?”
“What do you even mean by that? All my clothes are normal for me,” Sangwon teased, letting out an eye roll from the other boy.
When both of them were already sitting comfortably on the couch, Geonwoo broke the silence first.
“Are you sad that you can’t come to prom?”
“Kind of. I mean, it’s supposed to be the night of our lives, shouldn’t it? At least that’s what they say in the movies… But how about you, Geon? You’re supposed to be there. I literally texted you late so you could just stay. You’re such a menace.”
“A menace for accompanying your lonely and sick ass the whole night?”
“Oh shut up!” Sangwon smacked Geonwoo’s arm, but his face is lighting up with a smile so clear.
“It doesn’t really matter. Why would I go to prom anyway, when you’re not there?”
It’s not often for Sangwon to look so defenseless and unarmed, but he inevitably did, as he went quiet in a soft pause—his finger tightening on the blanket left on the couch.
“..That’s not fair,” he replied, though there was no hint of real complaint in his voice.
“I mean it, really.”
Sangwon stared at him for a while, as the silence stretched between them both. Years of friendship accompanied with Sangwon’s introversion has made Geonwoo learn to enjoy the soft hush between their conversations, at times when Sangwon chose to be quiet. But the silence they shared right now was different. The way Sangwon’s pupils widen—moving left and right, as if the right words to say were laid out in the walls of his living room.
So Sangwon gave up, hands grabbing the TV remote to resume the movie he was watching.
“What were you watching?” Geonwoo asked, trying to break the tension.
“Just some cliche high school romcom. Don’t know, I just need to watch something corny enough to make me forget the fact that I'm too sick to go to prom,” Sangwon confessed, sighing helplessly at the scene shown on television.
“You really wanted to go that badly, huh?”
“I guess, I mean, it’s not that much of a big thing. Maybe I romanticized it too much, you know—youth, coming of age, all that bullshit.”
“You’re such a romantic, Sangwon.”
“Oh, I definitely am.”
Naturally, the conversation hushed down as the movie progressed, demanding focus. Well, not too much on Geonwoo, since his eyes have been falling on Sangwon who’s quietly sitting beside him, eyes glued towards the TV. His eyelashes would flutter every time a scene excites him, with his lips parting ever so slightly.
Everything went on as per usual until Sangwon felt his eyes rapidly blinking out of drowsiness, hands clutching itself while trying to take a hold of his body.
“You wanna sleep?” Geonwoo asked.
“No.”
That answer turned out to be the biggest lie; as Sangwon’s eyes slowly fluttered shut, his head irrevocably falling into the nearest available surface,
Which is Geonwoo’s shoulder.
Sangwon’s tiny head collapsed against Geonwoo shoulder, the unconscious of his mind seeking warmth from the other boy—who let out a long, shaky breath as he felt the weight of his best friend nuzzling into his neck, and suddenly, everything else in the world disappears, leaving only all the breath hitches and the texture of Sangwon’s soft hair touching the corner of his cheeks.
Geonwoo tries so hard to hold his gaze; but he can’t—as Sangwon’s beauty is simply too alluring, the kind of beauty that arrests people inside his orbit without even trying to. The sharp slide of his jaw contrasts the delicateness of his small face, his doe eyes are now closed shut as his lashes rests against his cheeks, brows smoothing out as he goes deep into his sleep.
Their proximity is almost none now as Geonwoo swears he could see little moles between Sangwon’s jaw and neck when he tilted his head a little.
They were close. So close.
So close to an uncharted territory that has been avoided by Geonwoo for about six years now.
Soon enough, it became a very, very hard task for Geonwoo to resist himself from touching the messy strands of Sangwon’s hair. And when the downlight gently glosses the surface of his cheeks, Geonwoo’s mind is filled with questions like how soft would Sangwon’s skin be? would his fingers burn if he traced Sangwon’s skin from the corner of his eyes to the edges of his lip?
Geonwoo’s chest ached as a breeze of longing wafted inside his beating heart. It becomes so unbearable when Sangwon is blissfully unguarded and unaware in his shoulders. He thinks about how the puzzle piece fits so perfectly. How Sangwon always had his own way to rock his way through Geonwoo’s mundane life without ever being out-of-place.
Even if Beyonce decides to sing at the prom he missed, Geonwoo thinks he wouldn’t even trade this Sangwon for it.
His mind, his heart, even his hand is playing with his heart—too much, until the inevitable arrives. He lifted his hand, fingers slightly trembling as he brushed the strand of his hair along his forehead, stroking it ever so carefully as if he was afraid to face the reality when Sangwon decides to wake up.
Reality is indeed dreadful.
“Hmm, Geonwoo?” A quiet sound stirred in his throat as he shifted his head.
Geonwoo froze. “S-Sangwon, I—“
“Oh my, did I sleep in your chest? How—how long have I slept? Jesus, I'm sorry. It’s just that. you’re too—too..”
“Too what?”
“Warm. And you smell nice. I like it. I really, really, like it.”
Sangwon has always been an honest person.
“Then, go to sleep again.” Geonwoo said, as the fear in his body melted one by one.
“Okay—but not on your shoulders, maybe. You’ll get sick too,” said the boy drowned in drowsiness, as he removed his head from Geonwoo’s shoulders, immediately leaving an invisible mark that burns Geonwoo’s chest as he longs for more.
“No!”
The words slipped out too fast, before Geonwoo could ever soften the imminent longing that is traced in every syllable he spoke out.
“.. No?”
“Just.. here.”
Geonwoo’s heart was pounding too fast, and yet he still had the guts to guide Sangwon’s head back to his shoulder, letting it rest there ever so softly, as if it were where Sangwon had always belonged.
Sangwon didn’t resist, yet there’s a flicker of wonder passing his orbs as he stared at Geonwoo for a long second. Until his shoulders start to ease, settling back down to the shoulders that invited him.
“You’re weird sometimes,” Sangwon murmured quietly, eyes already sinking down to go back to sleep.
Geonwoo didn’t give him an answer. His body stayed still minutes after Sangwon completely dozed off. He can’t figure out why the living room suddenly felt so much smaller, as if the space narrowed itself to fit only both of them to hear each other's breaths and feel the faintest collapse of their skins.
It felt like they were trapped in a box. Engulfed by a haze of unresolved emotions that has been kept suppressed by Geonwoo for years and years. And Sangwon, dear little Sangwon still has his eyes shut with his chest slowly falling and rising along the beat of his breath.
So it took Geonwoo a few longing stares directed to the gentle figure of a sleeping Sangwon to clear up the fog that clouded his mind for six years straight.
It came to him ever so gently, like a clear blue sky too shy to conquer the rain. It’s been six years, and all he was able to do is to trace a shape that he could never recognize—until now, where it echoes loudly in Geonwoo’s fragile heart:
Geonwoo thought of the mango he peeled for a whining nine year old Sangwon. All the times he stared too long, all the memories he stored in his head that could perfectly recall the most mundane of all Sangwon’s habits. The unexplainable bond that binds their wrists together. How Geonwoo could never ever escape Sangwon, how Sangwon could never escape him.
He’s in love with Sangwon. Long before he even knew what love really is.
Some mysteries are solved, and yet, the answers are left behind, scattered in some wooden desk with murky lighting. Exactly like how Geonwoo discovered the intensity of his ardent longing for Sangwon during their (failed) prom night, with the boy of his dreams in his arms.
So now, they’re in college. Geonwoo has always wished to spend his college years with Sangwon, both stuck in the same apartment, still as inseparable as ever.
Reality had other plans for them. Although still in the same city, they both studied in different universities, living in separate places. But as far as the story goes, everyone that has known Sangwon and Geonwoo knows too well that a distance separated within a few subway rides won’t ever hold them both from meeting each other.
Geonwoo solved one puzzle in his life. Coming out as a bisexual is one thing. But Sangwon trying to match him with every possible boy he knows is another kind of thing.
“Trust me, he’s my junior in the dance club on my campus. The first time he entered our club, he did a 90 degrees bow to all of the seniors. And he’s so kind, I just know he’s your type!” Sangwon said in their phone call, evidently trying to match Geonwoo with some Chinese boy named Xinlong.
“I don’t think you even know what my type is.”
In a span of a year, Sangwon has taken the role of a matchmaker, trying to match Geonwoo with every type of boy that possibly exists.
There’s one guy who used to wear Radiohead shirts religiously, repeatedly reassuring Geonwoo that he indeed listens to Radiohead, and Geonwoo couldn’t care less, really. Another guy was too delightful, his smile so blissful, melting Geonwoo’s icy facade. Yet, he couldn’t ever keep up with the long list of anime series that guy keeps mentioning.
All the countless failed dates is what made Sangwon tug the edges of his button-up, jokingly teasing him about how he would maybe need to get a bolder personality, something more flashing rather than his clean and dandy persona that makes him wear a total of five neutral color rotations each day, with the same five jeans and the same five outers.
Okay. He might be a little bit boring and basic for a handful of people with a certain flare of uniqueness spiced up in their life, but look at Lee Sangwon, his art student heartthrob best friend who would deliberately choose to go to a cafe with some high-speed wifi just so he can get tickets for niche film festival screenings—and yet, he’s glued up in Geonwoo’s little mundane life.
Their years of friendship obviously took part, but the most vulnerable part of Geonwoo wants to believe that it exactly is the reason why he can’t stop seeing Sangwon in every boy he ever talked with. Only Sangwon would accept the blot of ink stained in my whole soul, Geonwoo thought—because it is easier to blame the universe playing with his fate, rather than acknowledging the ink of his devotion to Sangwon that is tainted with crimson red.
Kim Geonwoo is a fucking fool for his bestfriend.
Sangwon is painfully, painfully oblivious.
Or atleast, that’s what Geonwoo thinks.
The most foolish part of his devotion is that he would willingly agree to whatever Sangwon asks him to do, including the monthly blind dates Sangwon arranges for him. What is there to lose? If it might help him get over Sangwon, then Geonwoo would take it. Who knows? He could fall for someone new, rewrite history, and keep the remnants of Sangwon far far away from his heart.
“Im so sure. Xinlong’s pretty much a regular guy, without those niche hobbies and interests you can’t keep up with. He just likes dancing, so I'm sure you’ll get along with him.”
“Sangwon?”
“Hm?”
“Why do you keep arranging dates for me?”
“Cause I want you to be happy and get laid for once.”
“God, you’re so..”
“Nice and considerate? I know, Geonwoo. I know. Anyways, I need to go. I’m going on a date with Leo hyung tonight. Good luck, Geonwoo! Don’t scare him away!”
Right.
Sangwon has a boyfriend now. Like he always does. Leo is one year older than them, and Geonwoo thinks he isn’t much different than any of Sangwon’s past boyfriends, since he’s so sure that he can’t really see any distinct spark that lightens up Sangwon’s eyes whenever he’s face to face with his boyfriend.
Not much is different from high school. The purest part of Geonwoo thinks there’s something inherently evil and selfish in the way he always thinks that he’s one step ahead from Sangwon’s boyfriends. It’s something he never told anyone, because in what kind of world would it make sense for him to be feeling that way?
He held a principle very dearly to his heart; because Sangwon was a romantic at his core. The boy has always loved romantic poetry books and romance movies with deep sentimental messages. Past Lives. Bones and All. Before Sunrise. He also loved writing so much, but none of his boyfriends even got a love letter other than some appreciative anniversary long text on their chatrooms. None of the break-ups made him cry even though he was such a crybaby.
It’s not like Geonwoo ever received a love letter from him. But the sentimentality and rawness in Sangwon’s emotions were only ever displayed to him. Sangwon told him once that he hated being vulnerable and sad to his partners; which is absurd—because a romantic partner is supposed to be the one person you can lean everything on, all the nice things, all the horrible things.
Instead, Sangwon was only truly himself in front of Geonwoo.
There are two options. First, Geonwoo could actually be special. And second? Maybe he’s only a stupid shoulder for Sangwon to lean and cry on.
Pathetic and lovesick Geonwoo will always believe the first.
The restaurant had a dim warm yellow-ish lighting, a sign that Geonwoo’s blind date place had been chosen by Sangwon himself.
The boy Sangwon introduced him to is sitting politely in front of him; wearing a white shirt paired with some fuzzy knitted vest with sleeves folded neatly at the wrist. His smile is so sweet and it doesn’t seem practiced, and there’s some kind of tenderness that Geonwoo can sense every time he speaks so softly.
“So you’re actually from China?”
“Yeah! My parents moved here when I was 17, though.”
“Ah, I see. Your Korean is really good, Xinlong.”
Geonwoo can see a bit of red flushing the younger boy’s face. “Thank you, I enjoy learning languages a lot, so I guess I picked it up a lot faster than I thought I would.”
“I agree. Oh! And, is dancing your favorite hobby? Since you’re Sangwon’s junior in the dance club. He said that you’re such a good dancer.”
Something switches on in Xinlong’s cat-like face, lightening up as he starts moving his mouth to talk about the topic he seems most passionate about. “Well, I–”
Beep!
Before Xinlong could continue his in-depth rambling about dancing, a buzzing ringtone from Geonwoo’s pocket chimed in, cutting the younger boy’s sentence.
Geonwoo muttered a low ‘sorry’ as he rushed his hands through his pockets with both of his brows furrowing, wondering who it was who ruined the little moment from his pleasant date. Xinlong was nice, pretty, and endearing. For the first time, Sangwon might be right with his blind date choice. Now if he could just answer this one call and tell them to fuck off—
“.. Sangwon?”
His brows haven’t yet softened, because even though at least the call wasn’t from some random college groupmate, his coworker at his part time job, or a spam caller—why on earth would Sangwon call him during his date night with Leo?
“Sangwon hyung called you?”
“I–yeah, wait a minute, Xinlong.”
Xinlong nodded, ever so politely, and there’s a bit of guilt sparking in Geonwoo’s heart as he got reminded yet again that even though a pretty younger boy is in front of him—he somehow still need to answer the call from his stupid and pathetic first love. Even though Xinlong knows nothing about it.
“Hi? Sangwon, what the hell—”
“Geonwoo. God, I, I think I want to kill myself.”
“No! Wait, what? Why are you saying all this—why are you calling me when you’re supposed to be on a date?”
“Date? There’s no fucking date, Geonwoo. He didn’t come. He cheated on me with some random girl he met at a club. Oh my god. He slept on that girl’s apartment so he forgot about our date, fuck—i know i have a messed up dating life but not once have i ever been cheated on by anyone. Geonwoo, I–I–”
Sangwon’s words slurred and slid into each other messily, and just by one second Geonwoo could recognize that his best friend was drunk. And awfully miserable at that, because how the hell did he, Lee Sangwon, got cheated on?
“Sangwon, are you drunk? And—God, did he really cheat on you? That’s.. that’s insane…”
Geonwoo’s thoughts were running and clashing with each other inside his mind, completely forgetting about the confused and wide-eyed boy in front of him, who’s currently watching the scene unfolding in front of him with eyes full of concern.
“It—Ugh, it doesn’t.. matter.. Was I really not enough? What is wrong with me? Geonwoo, am I not lovable?”
“No, Jesus. No, Sangwon.”
“Then come here, Geonwoo. Come here, I'm in my apartment, just—I need you. I need you. Geonwoo-ya..?”
A relieved sigh came out from his throat, knowing that Sangwon is at least (hopefully) safely drunk in his apartment, not in some shady bar where he could do stupid things to himself. So there could be enough time for him to finish his short date, and then take care of his heartbroken best friend.
What a nice set of itinerary.
“Okay, wait, stay there. I’ll be there after I finish this—you know.”
“Finish what?”
Geonwoo rolled his eyes and answered softly, turning his head a bit so Xinlong couldn’t properly hear his words.
“The date you set me up?”
“Date? No! you can’t possibly be having a date right now! Do you really hate me, Geonwoo? You’re choosing a date over.. me?”
Geonwoo let out a gasp loud enough for Xinlong to notice, as he immediately shook his head, a combination of panic and confusion flickering across his face.
“That’s not what I meant. But Sangwon, you’re the one who set this up for me. Why are you—You’re drunk, right? God.”
“I don’t care. And I don't get it. Why can’t you be here? Why can’t you be here beside me? Why can’t you.. why can’t it be you?”
The phone almost slipped out from his grip.
“Uh, Xinlong? Sorry, I think I need to go to the toilet for a moment.”
“Oh—Sure! Take your time, hyung!”
Xinlong was nice, too nice, and the guilt washed his whole body—seeping through his veins like an injected venom. There was a quiet promise he held for himself; that this will be the last time for him to ever accept any of Sangwon’s matchmaking blind date. Escaping the depths of his raw and brittle ache for Sangwon will just be a never-ending marathon to find the edge of a sphere-shaped Earth.
“Sangwon, you’re really drunk. You don’t know what you’re saying. Okay, I—I’ll go to your apartment right away. Just stay there, okay?”
Geonwoo answered carefully, his phone getting nearer and nearer to his cheeks as he tried to absorb Sangwon’s earth-shattering sentences once again.
“I know what I'm saying! I know! I know I’m too fucked up, too clingy, too emotional, so that’s why Leo cheated on me—And, I know you’d come for me anyways. Only you would do that for me. And that’s why it should’ve been you.”
His body shivered so much he thinks he just got hit by acid rain. Sangwon is slurring a lot of things, stumbling his words altogether—but Geonwoo can clearly hear the thing Sangwon said two times. Two. It should’ve been you.
What’s the requirement to be an accomplishing poet? Geonwoo never really touched any poetry book unless it was Sangwon’s, nor does he understand the art of crafting words ever so delicately. But if all he has to do is wear his aching heart on his sleeve like a wounded knight giving himself up to his enemies, maybe the spirit of Shakespeare would possess him just for this one night.
The date ended abruptly, like it always does. Ended with thousands of ‘sorry’ muttered by Geonwoo to the younger boy who unexpectedly treated the sudden event really well. There were no harsh questions, only soft eyes that sparked concern, worried for his dancing club senior.
Of course, Geonwoo didn’t explain what exactly happened to Sangwon. He hoped Xinlong would never find out.
Geonwoo remembers Sangwon’s address and the passcode for his unit as if it was written in the back of his hand. No longer than thirty minutes and he’s already fiddling with Sangwon’s door, preparing himself for anything that could happen inside.
As the door opened, he could sense how the air became heavy with the sharp sting of alcohol. A scarf and a jacket is thrown to the floor messily, along with a pair of shoes that looks like it’s been removed carelessly without much thought.
The sound of muffled tears is what guided him to the figure of Sangwon crying on the floor, sitting with his back against the couch and hands wrapped all around himself like he’s looking for warmth he can’t find. Empty bottles of alcohol were scattered around like bowling pins.
The thought of it rings a bell in Geonwoo’s brain. This—this was the first time Sangwon had ever cried over a boy.
Geonwoo gulped.
The boy looked up—and Geonwoo hated how he always thought that Sangwon has always been so awfully pretty when he cries. Not the right time. Not the right time to pine over his lashes clumped together with tears while his eyes— all red from crying, gleamed in a soft demeanor that makes Geonwoo want to be a knight in shining armor and destroy everything that has ever disturbed Sangwon.
“Geonwoo.. you came,” Sangwon finally opened his mouth, breath hitching.
“You wanted me here.”
“I do.”
Not letting the silence stretch for too long, Geonwoo let himself sit down beside Sangwon, calmly pushing away the empty bottles near him so he can have the space for himself. His best friend is still quietly sobbing, as if he was choking his emotions to not spread out like a virus to his whole body.
Before Geonwoo even tried to reach for Sangwon, the boy beside him already leaned forward and pressed his head into Geonwoo’s shoulder.
The tears only stopped for a second—before Sangwon bawled on Geonwoo’s shoulder, staining his white shirt with fresh tears. Geonwoo couldn’t care less, though. All there in his head is that Sangwon is currently curled up beside him for comfort. Eight planets in the solar system, seven billion people on Earth. Yet the only person he ever chose to cry his heart out is Geonwoo.
By this point, Geonwoo’s shoulder along with all the nerves on his skin had already memorized the weight of Sangwon’s shoulder and the wetness of his tears.
“I got you, Sangwon. It’s okay.”
“I just—I can’t believe he actually cheated on me. No one ever did that to me.”
“You didn’t deserve that, Sangwon-ah.”
“I hate him. I really do.”
Geonwoo felt his chest tightening with emotion, so he used his hand to caress Sangwon’s back—giving an attempt to comfort him as he cried rivers in his shoulder.
“Did you.. did you love him? Leo hyung?” Carefully, Geonwoo asked, hoping none of his words would deepen the wound already exposed to the world.
“No! I don’t. I really don’t! But being cheated on.. feels.. different. I feel hurt. I feel betrayed.” Sangwon answered, his words still slurred as frustration started to bleed into his words.
“It’s like.. Ah, like, you’ve put your whole trust into a person and then.. they just.. break it. Break everything you’ve built together. How come? How can he do that? What is wrong with me? What is.. not enough.. of me..?”
“You’re always enough. You’re always enough for me.”
The last part came out so soft, Geonwoo prayed a thousand times in his heart that Sangwon would be too drunk and too sad to notice the pathetic word he slipped in his sentence.
Sangwon was indeed drunk. And Geonwoo knows how bad Sangwon is with alcoholic drinks and how easy it is for him to get drunk and forget all of it in the morning.
But there was still consciousness. And recognition.
“Hm? Enough for you? Of course I will always be enough for you. If I’m not, you won’t even be here.”
Oh, damn. That truly sent a bullet right through the foolishness of Geonwoo’s rose tinted chest filled with pathetic and utter longing.
Geonwoo giggled softly, drowning in his own misery. “You’re right.”
“Did you really ditch your date? Who.. who was it even, anyway?”
Geonwoo pretended to not notice the sudden change of tone in Sangwon’s voice.
“You dumbass. He Xinlong. You set him up with me.”
“He.. Xinlong.. isn’t he my junior in the dance club? Why are you dating him? Fuck. Why is everyone leaving me?”
Now Geonwoo can confirm that Sangwon’s truly gone, because he clearly can’t remember that he was the one who set up the date between both of them. Even chose the restaurant, for God’s sake.
“You literally set me up with him, Sangwon-ah. I knew him because of you. Also, I’m not dating him! We were only going on a date—that was, as I said, set up by you.” Geonwoo tried to slowly explain, but he can tell that it was not working, judging by Sangwon’s furrowed brows that made his face looked so, so, sour.
“No! Why would I set you up with someone else? Why would I give you up? Why would I willingly lose you?” His breath became uneven again and his voice started to become more of a squeak as if he could sense an upcoming abandonment.
“Sangwon—baby, you’re never gonna lose me.” Geonwoo coos, and maybe he’s also truly gone because the nickname slipped out of him carelessly as ever.
“Really?”
The voice that came out of Sangwon was equally as tender, and it gave Geonwoo the slightest bit of hope that maybe Sangwon wanted him as bad as he does.
Geonwoo knows he doesn’t.
“I couldn’t even if I tried.”
“Then don’t.”
Geonwoo lets out a hollow laugh, as it drums nervously through his beating heart. Sangwon is slurring words that could explode his own heart wholly, and yet, none of this would be remembered in the morning. How dreadful. How miserable. How heart shattering it is to love something so close yet so distant?
Sangwon is nuzzled deep into his shoulder, and Geonwoo’s mind has already wandered to places, thinking of every possibility that could have been.
“Yeah, Sangwon. Yeah.”
“Geonwoo-ya.”
Sangwon’s voice is softening—it went lower and lower, the grief combined with the alcohol and sleepiness is taking over him.
“Hm?”
“Hm.. Geonwoo-ya. Maybe it should’ve been you.. I don’t know why.. I don’t know why I keep ending up with other people.”
It’s as if they were highschoolers again. It’s as if the room was tilted to become Sangwon’s living room, when he was all sick and Geonwoo left the whole prom just to accompany Sangwon so he wouldn’t be sick and sad all alone.
And the tight knot in his chest? It was all the same. It’s a bedtime story chained into his memory. Having Sangwon all tangled in him yet having his heart too far beyond his reach. Words and words coming out from his mouth yet there’s no way to prove it being real.
Geonwoo felt sick. Really sick.
“Do you mean it, Sangwon?”
“Hm?”
“Will you remember this, tomorrow? Will you also say this tomorrow?”
“I.. don’t know.”
Not long until the sleepiness took over him, absorbing all his consciousness and also, unfortunately, taking over all the vulnerability spilled out without care.
Sangwon woke up in Geonwoo’s arms the next morning, without remembering anything at all.
Geonwoo smiled. Like he always does.
Geonwoo bought mangoes from the store and peeled it all for Sangwon. Like he always does.
Emily Dickinson once said something about how hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul. And sings the tune without words. And never stops at all.
For the past three months, not once had Geonwoo seen Sangwon holding hands with anyone. No late-night chats about some fling or one night stand, no ventings about any other boy. Only sudden phone calls from Sangwon asking him to hangout together, crashing out to the nearest fried chicken chain restaurant. Singing their asses off at a karaoke place. Testing their luck in arcades, or a little bit of exercise by going bowling.
So many things they did together, yet the three months felt quiet—in a hopeful sense. The stubborn hope is fluttering like a bird in Geonwoo’s heart.
Sangwon didn’t seem to remember anything that happened from that night. Nor does he try to acknowledge anything, digging the memories that were buried. It all went normal, too normal, and it made Geonwoo question everything all over again.
Maybe he should shut himself down again. Cut down the ropes before the hope grows bigger and bigger, like a baby monster in need of being fed.
But he doesn’t, because that’s what Geonwoo is. Selfless, pathetic, and also full of love. So when Geonwoo asked Sangwon to go somewhere with him and Sangwon answered a solid ‘yes’ without any further question, his chest burned with nothing but a solid hope.
The sun is setting and it’s already a bit dark as Geonwoo drives and parks his car to a place all too familiar for them both.
“Kim Geonwoo.”
“Yes?”
“Why are you bringing me to our.. high school?”
Geonwoo laughed, clearly doing nothing to explain as he grabbed Sangwon’s wrist to sneak into their empty school campus, since it’s the summer break. And there’s no one to stop them as Geonwoo guides him to the school’s gymnasium, opening the locks and turning on the lights.
Sangwon audibly gasped. The gymnasium that Sangwon was never fond of because he hated sports was decorated with crepe paper streamers that were drooping from the ceiling, although it seems incomplete. Some balloons were attached to the walls, and the rest of them were scattered on the floor.
“I have many questions. But first off, why the hell do you have the keys to our gym?”
“Remember Mr Kim? My uncle who taught us History, back in 10th grade? Yeah. Well. He became the principal now, and I kind of asked him for this..”
Sangwon shook his head in disbelief. “Wow. I totally forgot that you were such a nepobaby.”
“I’m not!”
“Okay. Back to addressing the elephant in the room. What are we doing here again? In a prom decorated gymnasium?”
Geonwoo fiddled with his fingers nervously, and the sudden shyness hit him as if he was back as an oblivious and naive highschooler who never realized that he was in love with his best friend.
“Yesterday was prom. And.. they haven’t removed some of the decorations. And this might be stupid—and corny. But I just remembered that you never came to prom. The one event you romanticized a lot. End of high school? Coming of age? And you missed it because you were sick.”
“.. So you brought me here. To the leftover bits of this year’s prom. By the connection from your principal uncle. So I can feel the prom I missed.” Sangwon restated, as he looked to his festive surroundings.
“Um. Yeah.”
For a second, Geonwoo reckoned that Sangwon would take a few steps back and give him a belittling grin. Maybe this is all stupid anyways.
“And here I thought I was the romantic one between both of us. It’s not even my birthday, Geonwoo! And yet.. You’re really thoughtful, you know that?”
Geonwoo could finally breathe easily. “So you like it? This was an impulsive thought, honestly. I thought you would find it stupid.”
Sangwon chuckled, and all thoughts in Geonwoo’s mind short-circuits as the boy wrapped both of his hands around his shoulder, hugging him tight. It was spring and it wasn’t that cold, and yet Geonwoo couldn’t think of any place warmer than Sangwon’s embrace.
“I’m really impressed, more than anything. Like, on what occasion are you doing this for me? And you know I always liked thoughtful people. The way you still remember that one stupid night in high school where I got sick—and, oh, you also didn’t go to prom too. You accompanied me..”
Along the way, Sangwon’s voice faltered, as his thoughts settled down on all the weight of his sentences.
“We both didn’t go to prom, Sangwon-ah.” Geonwoo answered softly, still smiling.
“Did you regret it?”
“No, not once.”
The exact night he realized that he was in love with Sangwon. No, he won’t trade that for anything. Definitely not.
“Thank you, Geonwoo, for.. always.. being there for me. And knowing what’s right for me. You were also there when I cried over my ex.. God, I can’t even remember what happened that night. I was so drunk. And yet, you still came.”
Those were all easy. Ditching his cute blind date and rushing to book a taxi to Sangwon’s place? Easy. Leaving his prom even though he already bought a charming velvet suit? Easy. Nothing ever felt hard as long as he got to hold Sangwon in his arms, all by himself.
What’s hard is the aftermath; the hollowness in his chest once he realized that Sangwon’s thankful smile won’t last forever.
Just like tonight. Geonwoo thinks he needs to make best use of it. And there’s this buzzing thought in his head that keeps telling him that maybe tonight should be the night where he should risk it all and give what his heart wants after all these years.
He tries to ignore it.
“If I never got sick, how do you think prom would go for both of us? Since we both didn't even have a date back then.”
Geonwoo is feeling bold these days. “Well, we will be each other's dates. Isn’t that what you said back then?”
The answer made Sangwon giggle, but Geonwoo kind of wished his words were taken seriously.
“Yeah. And the whole school would think you’re gay.”
“Well.. I am.”
Sangwon’s giggle turned into a long laugh he couldn't control. “You know what? It kinda is funny. Back then in high school some people really thought you were gay, because you were stuck with me like some kind of super glue. Before I publicly had any boyfriends, people always thought that we were dating.. it’s funny, right, Geonwoo?”
It is not. Because one of them is true. The other one isn’t—he really wishes it does. But Geonwoo forces out a laugh anyways, more to laugh over his own misery rather than anything.
“I don’t have any problem with that, though. I think we would spend our prom happily anyways. Maybe when the music gets sappy we would go to the corner and eat the food served. Or whatever.” Said Geonwoo, even though the thought of holding Sangwon’s waist as the slow music plays is making him lightheaded.
“I think that would be fun.. totally. We could just eat all night, listen to music. Getting all emotional over graduating even though we both go to uni in the same city.. must be fun..”
“I think the night in your living room was fun too, though.”
Geonwoo hopes the vulnerability didn’t slip out from his throat.
“Mm, really?”
“Of course. What’s important is that we spend our time together, after all.”
Sangwon giggled again, all amused in the way that made Geonwoo’s heart soften. “Since when did you get so sappy, Geonwoo-ya?”
“This is a virus I got from you, actually.”
The boy rolled his eyes, bumping his shoulders slightly against Geonwoo. “Great, now you’re blaming me.”
“But—I’ve really been thinking about it. I feel like we’ve been going out together more often these past three months, don’t you agree?”
Sangwon enthusiastically nodded. “Actually, yeah! I also just realized that!”
There’s a bit of hesitation as Geonwoo curls his fingers inside his pockets, trying to find the right words to not spill his heart out too much. “You know I have always treasured you, right? and these days.. I don’t know, I felt happier, somehow.”
The sweet smile still stays in Sangwon’s face, unbeknownst to the heavy tug in Geonwoo’s chest.
“I kind of thought that it’s maybe because.. because.. you’re not dating anyone?”
“Geonwoo-ya.”
“Um, and I feel like it gave us so much space to find each—”
“Geonwoo. Geonwoo-ya.”
Geonwoo looked up, realizing that Sangwon had been calling his name while he mindlessly rambled, ever so close to open his closed wound.
“Oh! Sorry! Yeah, what did you wanna say?”
Sangwon rubbed the back of his neck, the sweetness of his face is now mixed with fluster. Geonwoo’s heart is beating rapidly, because for a few seconds the silence stretched—and it felt long, too long, as Geonwoo try to patiently wait for Sangwon to open his mouth.
“Actually, I—I’m not dating anyone, because.. Ugh, first off! I’m sorry for keeping it from you! A friend of mine once said that telling everyone about your talking stages or whatever could jinx it, so i kept this one out from everyone.. and it’s honestly stupid because..”
Geonwoo’s stomach sank.
“.. Because this time, somehow, it felt.. different? Like, I really, really, don’t want to lose him. And it’s weird because I haven't felt like this in a long, long, time.”
“Oh,” Geonwoo said, the sound barely more than air.
“You’re not mad that I’m keeping it from you, right? I’ve been hesitating to tell you, and it felt wrong because I always tell you everything..” Sangwon confessed with glassy eyes, and suddenly Geonwoo felt like he needed to tear all the streamers from the ceilings and pop all the balloons with sharp needles. Sangwon is worried for all the wrong reasons.
“No! I’m happy for you, I’m glad that you.. finally.. felt like that again.”
Only God knows when Sangwon ever felt like that for the last time. Because Geonwoo always thinks that Sangwon has never been in love. Not once. For years, he’s been selfishly glued to Sangwon’s side in his stupid defense that there no true love is ever beating in Sangwon’s heart.
Is he finally wrong?
Sangwon looked relieved, the softness in his face that was left hanging in the air for a second finally fully came back. “Thank God. And you know what’s crazy? He’s younger than me. Hell, he’s literally a freshman.”
There’s a burning knot in Geonwoo’s chest. “You.. you never dated younger guys.”
“I know, right! But this one’s different.. I think I’m gonna tell you everything on our way home. I always feel dizzy around him, oh my God. Anyways! His name is Anxin, Zhou Anxin.”
Hope is the thing with feathers. Devotion is the thing that burns. Despair is the diet he is forced to consume until he can put a stop on the depths of his own desire.
A nicely built Jenga tower that completely fell after one block was removed. That’s how the past few weeks felt for Geonwoo, who held all the feelings in by himself. Time moved strangely, tiptoeing around his buried feelings.
As time went by, Geonwoo learned how to smile at the right moments. Nodding without asking questions, chuckling out loud when Sangwon pulls out another one of his dad jokes. And when the inevitable name arrived—Zhou Anxin, whoever that is, Geonwoo mastered the art of softening his rage. Although some days the ache stayed lodged in his chest like a sentence he can’t speak out.
The part of him he called selfish was slowly melting itself. When he visited Sangwon in his campus library and instead of studying he was scribbling a heartfelt love poem with a cursive font; Geonwoo knows that he’s standing beside a cliff and Sangwon has already fallen, maybe still holding to a singular tree branch that’s about to break in any second.
Sangwon is actually falling in love. The thought of it hurt a hundred times more when Geonwoo stopped denying it.
Even though Sangwon still regularly came to his apartment, the room felt emptier. The foolish bubbles of hope hanging in the air has now been popped and destroyed.
So what should he really expect when the doorbell rang close to midnight? There is only one person who would ever ring his bell at this time of the night. And there’s only a few options on whatever the reason is.
Geonwoo gulped.
He stood there with his hand hovering uselessly near the handle, even though he knows hesitation won’t change the form of the person who’s possibly standing there.
And when he finally opened the door, every one of his assumptions were confirmed—because Lee Sangwon was standing there, eyes all glassy with his shoulders slumped inward, and the wetness of rain is clinging to the hem of his leather jacket like his concern is too heavy to care about the rain.
“Hey,” Sangwon said, with a strained voice that tried too hard to not be broken.
“Hey, Sangwon. What’s up..?” Geonwoo answered, pretending he can’t sense the upcoming doom from the tone of Sangwon’s voice.
“Can I stay here for the night?”
No. No. No. Stop letting him be comfortable inside your already burned world.
“Sure.”
Sangwon slipped in, starting to remove his shoes and it all seemed as familiar as ever. If only everything was different. If only.
No one talked, at first.
Sangwon sat on the edge of the couch, elbows on his knees with hands clasped tightly together. Geonwoo pretended to be busy by washing his hands at the sink, rearranging his cutlery, putting back his measuring cup in the shelf—anything that could fill the silence that stretched out because even though Geonwoo could guess the reason of why Sangwon is here tonight, his pettiness refuses to be the bigger person and comfort him first.
So Sangwon ended it all by finally opening his mouth, even as he still stared at the floor.
“Anxin is dating someone else.”
There it is. His voice sounds more broken than before, no longer resisting.
Geonwoo sighed. A long one. He put down a glass of water to the table in front of Sangwon, and then proceeded to sit beside him. The space between their knees felt as thin as a secret.
“This one feels so, so, awful. Getting cheated on by Leo hurts like hell, but this one actually hurts because I loved him..? Is this a weird statement? But I think I do love him. And that's why it hurts, it really hurts.”
Fumbling Lee Sangwon should be considered a high level crime. Although he can’t decide which one should be more dangerous, fumbling him—or pining for him for more than a decade. Nothing makes sense anymore in Geonwoo’s mind. Everything feels disfigured and he can’t think right.
“I bet it feels awful.”
Geonwoo thinks he’s talking to himself, more than anything. But Sangwon doesn’t know that. With the same hazy eyes, he looked right through him and nodded.
“Yeah. It does.”
“You loved him, Sangwon-ah?” Geonwoo asked, voice about to shake. But Sangwon was too distressed to notice it anyway.
“Maybe. Yeah. I don’t know. I just.. really, really like him.”
“Why?”
“He’s just.. different? I mean.. my exes understood me, but he actually, really took time and he’s always so gentle with me. Like he looked past my looks, and he always compliments all the other parts of me. He liked my poems. He thinks I view the world in a unique way and he appreciates it. He’s really.. considerate, I think.” Sangwon thoroughly explained his answer, and those words ticked the bomb Geonwoo buried in himself.
Geonwoo first met Sangwon when they were eight. It’s the first time they were put in the same class, and it was also the very first time their teacher gave them a task to write poems and read it out loud. Back then, Geonwoo was the class president and Sangwon was the quiet kid who always shrank when attention drifted too close. When the teacher asked him to come forward and read his own poem, he froze completely, ears turning red, hands trembling.
And that’s the first time Geonwoo said a word to Sangwon. Gently asking him to come forward, as if Sangwon was a fragile glass that could break.
“I can’t..”
“It’s okay, Sangwon-ah. I bet your writing is really good.”
“I don’t want to go forward.”
“If so, can I read it for you?”
“You would?”
“Yeah.”
He read Sangwon’s poem out loud to the class, and everyone clapped. The teacher gave the loudest clap. He faintly remembers the poem being about some lonely withered rose, and he thought it was so deep for a boy that was only eight.
“Sangwon-ah, your poem is so beautiful. I’ve never seen someone with writing skills as good as you.”
Eight year old Sangwon was shy. So shy. A surge of red immediately came tinting his cheeks.
“No one has ever said that to me before.”
“Then I’m glad to be the first.”
Memories often come resurfacing with painful clarity. Just like this one. And every other one that happened across the eleven years they were together. Indeed, there is nothing more delicate than being understood, listened, and known like you were the back of their hand. And how much does Zhou Anxin know of him? Of Lee Sangwon? The same Sangwon that has never left his side for more than a decade. The same Sangwon who would wet his shoulders by crying? The same Sangwon that can’t peel mangoes for his own sake—so Geonwoo kept doing it for him?
Geonwoo had already carved a sculpture in their intertwined lives, long before they could put a name to it. More than a decade of staying, of choosing patience, of treating Sangwon with a certain kind of gentleness he never ever gave to someone else. A whole decade of fooling himself that Sangwon, somehow, belonged to him.
He had never been more wrong. He had never been so sick.
“Do you remember back when we were kids, Sangwon-ah?”
The other boy widened his eyes, not expecting Geonwoo to pull out some kind of flashback.
“Mm? What?”
“Some kids were saying bad things to you and I punched them. And I got into detention.”
Sangwon’s brows furrowed, not quite getting the point of the conversation, but he nodded anyway.
“Yeah. I—I do.”
“And remember when I used to go to your house every time after school, and then I would peel the mangoes from your fridge just for you?”
“.. Yeah.”
“And then there was prom. Where I ditched the whole event just because I don't want you to be all alone and sick in your house.”
Sangwon can feel his hand shivering. There must be some kind of game that Geonwoo is currently playing, and he’s too dazed to figure it out now, but a deeper part of him can sense it—and it’s burning up all his insides.
“Geonwoo—“
“Remember when Leo hyung broke up with you? No. Wait. Sorry. Cheated on you? And I think you completely forgot this one, but I ditched my date for you. Even though the said date was the one you matched me up with.”
The boy beside him couldn’t even blink anymore, millions of memories pouring into his brain as he freezed completely.
“I—I forgot about that.. you didn’t tell me you..?”
Geonwoo shrugged, resisting himself from pulling out a dry laugh. “Do you remember the things you said that night, Sangwon-ah? You said to me, that it should’ve been me. You said you don’t know why you keep ending up with other people because it should’ve been me.”
Sangwon was staring at him so hard he could melt ice. His lips were parting; but no words came out. Only his palms nervously fiddling with the fabric of his jeans.
Maybe this was it. There was only one world he ever lived in, and it is shattered anyway. There’s no point in keeping it intact.
“I love you, Sangwon. Since forever. It’s been so long I don't know when everything began and when it would end.”
The room felt really cold, maybe Geonwoo forgot to raise the temperature a little. Did he turn off the stove when he was boiling the water earlier? Did he turn off the water tap in his bathroom after he washed his face? Is the wallpaper in his living room yellowing? Why does it feel like he missed out on everything in his life? Why does it feel like he has never done anything right?
How much damage does a planet need to receive until it goes extinct?
“You were my first love, Geonwoo.”
Maybe the wallpaper in his living room is actually yellowing. Resembling the worn out wallpaper his mom put in his childhood home’s kitchen, the one where he and Sangwon used to cook for fun and where Sangwon never did it right. He thinks he could hear the water tap running from his bathroom—where he could see dainty nine year old Sangwon fill a bowl up with it, adding a mixture of flowers and leaves he picked from the garden. He said it was a potion. Geonwoo asked what potion it was. Sangwon said it was a love potion. Who would you give it to? And Sangwon just laughed. Shook his head.
Geonwoo thinks he’s dreaming. Maybe he’s currently waking up in 2013.
“Sangwon-ah. Don’t play with me now.”
A silent tear formed in Sangwon’s eyes, almost gone unnoticed. “I’m not.. but.. fuck, this is all messed up. I’m sorry. Wrong timing.”
They both didn’t even realize that their bodies were leaning in and getting closer by itself, as if pulled together by some kind of imaginary force. Even though their minds were screaming out loud with the need to escape.
“No, Sangwon, it’s fine.” Geonwoo hushed him softly.
“.. But the question is, do you still feel it right now?”
Sangwon’s breath caught. His throat croaked, trying to find the right words.
“I never truly loved my exes. It only felt like I was trying to recreate something.. something I only felt with you. You were the reason I knew I liked guys. But I—I, I was so afraid, and it feels like we’re growing something delicate, do you get it? What I have with you feels sacred, something I shouldn't touch—and it is indeed quite selfish..”
Selfish. When that’s exactly what Geonwoo have felt for the decade they’ve been together.
“Why didn’t you tell me, Sangwon-ah. You knew I liked guys. I knew you liked guys.”
Geonwoo thinks it’s his unconscious that’s starting to cradle the edge of Sangwon’s cheeks with his left hand. Sangwon doesn’t resist the touch. Geonwoo thinks he’s doomed.
“I was afraid of ruining us, because it was all so perfect.. but also because.. I don’t know, Geonwoo! Everything feels confusing!”
“But Anxin?”
“Anxin?”
“Does he.. make you feel..” Geonwoo stopped, his breath hitching, his courage flattening to zero over reaching the edge of the truth.
Sangwon doesn’t give an answer. He tried to, but his lips and hands were trembling and his eyes were too glossy to think and talk and speak out a truth that could decide what would happen in the nearest future. Every syllable spoken out will be another additional weight and it will have its risks. Everything will.
Just like the position they’re in, where Sangwon already leaned in with his hands wrapped around Geonwoo’s wrist and there’s presumably only three inches left in between them, so close Geonwoo could count Sangwon’s eyelashes if he wanted to.
Everything melted away and Geonwoo thought he could hear some slow music playing inside his head when Sangwon moved an inch closer, their noses almost touching. Nothing mattered anymore, no world ever existed and nothing had ever shattered in his life.
Until the trance broke. And Sangwon moved away slightly, rapidly blinking out of hesitation. “No, I’m gonna ruin this for us. I will hurt you—”
“No, Sangwon. Just once. Just this one night. Please.” His voice felt weak. Pathetic.
“And you will never ever hurt me.”
That’s a lie.
When Sangwon didn’t give a verbal answer other than letting his lashes flutter slowly with his thumb hovering over the fabric of Geonwoo’s hoodie, all hell breaks loose.
The one boy who longed for this certain moment for years pulled Sangwon flush against him—and the kiss felt like fireworks where everything burned and shimmered in a sky so dark.
It was unsteady at first, both sides releasing their pent up desire after years of repressed longing. Sangwon made a small, broken sound against Geonwoo’s mouth as his hands moved up to cup Geonwoo’s face that made Geonwoo move forward to kiss him back with the most untamed longing in his life.
Geonwoo always thought his first kiss with Sangwon would be gentle and soft, like the little love that grew inside him when he was just a little kid.
But they grew up and everything was different. All the softness in his heart turned out rough, all sharp and tired from too much hoping, giving, longing—never receiving. The kiss consumed all his being, heating the room out even as they parted for a second, a string of saliva connecting the nonexistent distance between their lips.
Kim Geonwoo is no longer gentle. He is hungry.
Sangwon is so pretty, and his lip is a rosy shade of pink. His ears burned red, and Geonwoo couldn't hold himself from sliding his hand to the back of Sangwon’s neck, thumb resting just below his ear—while he kissed along the lines of Sangwon’s jaw. He could feel how Sangwon shivers beneath him. He reached his ear and there’s no hesitation as he nibbled the soft curve of Sangwon’s ear.
“Geonwoo. Ah—”
“Mm, you’re so pretty like this, Sangwon. You’re so good for me.” Geonwoo murmured, his lips now moving into Sangwon’s exposed neck, where Sangwon easily tilted his head without thinking, giving Geonwoo a better access to kiss every spot of skin in his neck that isn’t covered by his shirt.
“G-Geonwoo, are you sure about this? Ahn—” Even between muffled moans, Sangwon somehow still had the sanity to do a follow up of Geonwoo’s consent, as if Geonwoo gave a single fuck about how his already-shattered world would be once the night is over. Whatever the singular night with the love of his life costs, he will pay for it.
“Are you okay with this, baby? Because I’d give everything up for you if you asked me to.”
“Yeah. Yeah. I am so okay with this, Geonwoo.”
That’s all it takes for Geonwoo to lose every bit of control he had.
“The bed. Move to the bed,” Geonwoo commanded before grabbing Sangwon’s waist, lips still greedily kissing every exposed skin he could find as he guided Sangwon to his bed.
They both fell to the bed while trapped in a daze, Sangwon lying flat on his back, eyes hungry with lust that is mirrored on Geonwoo’s own eyes that’s burning with desire. His fingers were eager as they rushed to unbutton Sangwon’s fitted shirt until he could see the soft milky skin of Sangwon’s stomach.
“You’re so pretty,” Geonwoo said without thinking.
“And you’re so fucking hot looking at me like this.”
Geonwoo felt that compliment striking his heart until it fell to his own throbbing cock. Sangwon is currently sprawled out on his bed with his round eyes that almost looks like he’s begging to be fucked, hair looking all messy, neck full of marks that should definitely be covered the day after if he decides that Geonwoo is nothing but a mere fuck buddy to entertain him for the night.
“I want you, Sangwon. All of you.”
Geonwoo meant all of it. Carnally, yes, but also romantically, and emotionally, and in every other way that a soul could be intertwined.
“I want you too,” Sangwon said, even though Geonwoo does not know how deep the sentence’s supposed to be for Sangwon. All he knows is that he’s so, so, horny and the love of his life wants him right now. There’s possibly nothing better that could happen.
Sangwon is apparently also impatient, as he unzipped his own jeans and then pulled up the hem of Geonwoo’s hoodie and pushed down his sweatpants, until they both were nothing but bodies with both dicks so visibly hard in the outline of their boxers.
Sangwon bites his lips as he is left stunned, distracted for a second when Geonwoo’s toned body is revealed in front of his own eyes—so Geonwoo took the lead to break the trance and remove both of their boxers to reveal their dicks already hard, tip swollen and leaking with precum.
“Can I take care of you, Sangwon-ah?” Geonwoo asked in a warm and loving tone as he squeezed Sangwon’s ass, letting out a moan accompanied with a mindless nod.
“Yes, pleasepleaseplease, i need you, your touch—” Sangwon blabbered, already lost in his words.
He started sucking and biting the skin of Sangwon’s abdomen, and all the memories flashed back on him like thunder. Sleeping together in the same bed has never been a weird thing for them both. Vividly he remembered sleeping beside Sangwon after they graduated high school, and he felt so small like he could shrink because he wished there was more than just the three inches distance between them. Sangwon felt the most distant when he was sleeping beside him in the other direction—yet all he wants is for the boy to turn over and touch him all over like he’s the only thing that exists.
And that’s exactly what’s unfolding right now below his eyes.
He grabbed the lube he kept in his drawers, bottle still close to full because giving up his body to anyone other than his truest love felt sinful nowadays. Coating his fingers with it, the digit slowly made an entrance to Sangwon’s hole that made the pretty boy under him jerk his hips upward, trying to reach for the shattering pleasure he felt just from Geonwoo’s fingers.
“Ah, so- so good, Geonwoo—” Sangwon croaked out, moaning a little bit too loud again when Geonwoo curled his fingers just right, twisting in and out as Sangwon’s walls spasmed around Geonwoo’s fingers.
“Mmmh, more..” Sangwon whined, and what is Geonwoo if not a devoted being? He added another finger, scissoring Sangwon deep and wide, while Sangwon whimpered under him. Geonwoo can’t hold back a groan, utterly turned on by a view so obscene that’s handed to him with a plate.
“You’re leaking so much from just my fingers,” Geonwoo claimed.
He kept twisting his fingers inside and out, his hardened cock twitching with need on seeing Sangwon all messy and whiny—which tempted him to slowly tease Sangwon’s tip by stroking it, and Sangwon squirms again and again, because his body is hot with desire and Geonwoo’s fingers hit a spot on his prostate and everything feels so good, almost like this is everything he had ever wished but at the same time—It isn’t. Everything feels gray and foggy but his body screams for more.
“Fuck—Geonwoo, please. Just—“
“What? What do you want?” Geonwoo asked, tone a little rough, thinking he should play along a little bit.
But Sangwon is direct and he knows what he wants.
“Fuck me. I want your cock inside me, Ah, ah—“ Sangwon pants, mouth parted in pleasure as Geonwoo fingers him open.
“Okay. Okay, I got you, baby.”
The fingers are removed and Sangwon clenches on nothing, a hollow on his chest as he longs for more. He knitted his brow as he found Geonwoo’s hands busy searching for something in his drawer.
“Geonwoo, what are you doing? Just fuck me right now.”
“I can’t find any condom—I think i—“
“Fuck it. Whatever, I’m clean right now so just.. please? I want to feel you, Geonwoo.”
Geonwoo felt his heart jump out of his chest. He’s also clean—barely having the energy to fuck anyone else when the person could never ever be Sangwon—And now he’s laying below him fully naked, cock leaking with precum and eyes so glassy he looks so fucked.
“Oh my god, okay, Sangwon, okay.”
Geonwoo took a moment to messily kiss Sangwon’s lips all wet and hot, before he lined up his cock to the entrance, teasing just the tip. And then he paused.
Sangwon’s eyes look so big right now. Everything’s all hazy and Sangwon looks like he’s about to cry. And then he whispers, voice cracked and all.
“Please, Geonwoo. Please.”
There must be a corrupt and evil demon haunting his apartment, there must be. Because for the next second Geonwoo lets out a dry laugh, even though it must sound so stupid because he has his cock all out and he’s stopping right before he could enter heaven and then he just laughs—all bitter, ironic, somewhat closer to a scoff. He must be crazy.
“You think you deserve this, Sangwon?”
“Wha—”
He drags his tip slowly again against Sangwon’s cheeks, and Sangwon whines again, feeling the slight warmth in his core that isn’t yet enough.
“You think you deserve this? After everything? After everything that happened to me? To us? Have you been good, Sangwon?”
I’m good. I have always been good. Sangwon wants to say it out loud but everything is stuck in his throat because he knows it isn’t true. Everything suddenly hurts. His body hurts because it won’t stop aching for more—but his heart hurts more, because something is buzzing so deep yet he can’t reach for it. Like he could hear a loud alarm trying to wake him up but he could never find his phone. Like he’s holding so much baggage and there’s nowhere to put it. Geonwoo is laughing dryly again and he feels like he could fucking cry. He wants to be fucked so bad, he wants to be loved so bad.
“No.”
“What?”
“I’m not good, I—”
Oh god.
Little droplets of water started dripping out from Sangwon’s already glasses eyes. He’s sobbing. He’s about to be fucked and he’s crying.
Fuck it. Geonwoo can’t take it anymore. He wants to make Sangwon beg for him, cry for him, sitting on the edge for hours screaming out loud on how much he wants to fuck him. A little bit of pending pleasure can’t be worse than the pain he carried on his own. Maybe he should sit and ask Sangwon to just fuck himself as he watched without touching any part of him. Maybe he should just leave him dry and hanging, just so he can see Sangwon reaching for him and scream his name on his knees.
But God knows only one loser exists in this bedroom. When they were little children, Geonwoo could always find a way to win over Sangwon in every game they played. But most of the time, he would let Sangwon win anyway, because his smile is worth more than his own pleasure. So maybe he’s born to lose and give his whole life up for the only man he ever loved, like the devotee he is.
He hates seeing Sangwon cry. He hates seeing Sangwon cry because of him. Geonwoo had always learned to be gentle before he knew what it’s like to be rough. So be it. The rage is softened as the pain becomes numb.
“Nononono—Sangwon, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. You’re so good, you have always been nothing but good to me. I love you, don’t cry, okay?” Geonwoo said softly as he stroked Sangwon’s cheeks, wiping his tears away with kisses all over his face. The confession slipped inside the conversation even though Geonwoo is seconds away before he is buried deep inside Sangwon’s hole.
“No, Geonwoo. I’m the one who should be saying it. I’m sorry. Fuck. I’m—”
Sangwon stopped his apology because all his words were shushed away as Geonwoo slammed his cock inside him, making Sangwon’s back arch and his own cock slap against his stomach with the sudden push of pleasure.
“S-Sangwon? Is it okay if I move?” Geonwoo asked, still gentle as ever.
“Yes, yes!”
No second were wasted as he gave his first thrust, earning a long moan from Sangwon with his mouth parting, eyes fluttering, and Geonwoo thinks he can see a blinding halo above Sangwon’s head right now. He’s moaning like a mess, but he’s so pretty and angelic it made Geonwoo think that he is currently in heaven because he spent half his life as a devotee in the mortal world that burns like hell.
“Ah! Want.. want you, you, Geonwoo—” Sangwon muttered incoherent moans, stuffing words here and there he probably does not know what anything means anymore. Geonwoo’s taking his length out before he stuff all of it back in, repeating all of it like a ritual, like a devotion.
“Sangwon, Ah, you’re so tight. You’re so good, you’re so perfect, I can live here forever.”
Sangwon’s hands were roaming all over Geonwoo’s body, nails digging into his skin like he needed an anchor to steady himself from the overwhelming sensation of Geonwoo splitting him open.
“Is it good, Sangwon?”
“Yeah, yeah, Geonwoo—It’s so good.. so much.. Hngh—”
Geonwoo spread Sangwon’s legs wider, folding up his legs so he can hit the right spot better and Sangwon felt like his head was buried deep to his sheets due the hard pressure of Geonwoo thrusting on him, making him feel like he’s a thin piece of paper bent in half. He felt so small below him, so good, this might be the best fuck he ever had in his life—and the tiny part of his brain that isn’t yet dead by pleasure thinks that this might be what he needs for the rest of his life. The saner and guiltier part of his brain has already been dead too long to resist the thought.
“Geonwoo—Geon, Geonwoo—” All Sangwon could mutter is Geonwoo’s own name, and the rest is incomprehensible.
“Ssangwon, baby, you’re taking me in so well.”
Sangwon’s thighs tremble, shaking against Geonwoo’s shoulder as the thrusts goes on and on, hips snapping forward hitting all the right spots.
“Can’t—can’t take it..too much..”
“Hmm? Baby, I know you can take it like the good girl you are,” Geonwoo murmurs, not thinking anything.
Sangwon’s wall clenched, it seems like there’s still a completely awake part of his brain that processed the nickname. He liked it, and Geonwoo smirked.
“You like being called that, baby? My girl, Sangwon, you’re so beautiful and so pretty like this. All pliant and tiny under me. Take all of it, yeah? I know you can.”
“Mmmh, can’t, Geonwoo,”
“Can, you can,” Geonwoo muttered as he dips down to find Sangwon’s lips, and Sangwon also desperately leaned in forward, until they kiss messily they don’t know what’s real anymore.
The rhythm started to falter as everything felt like they could reach the stars. Sangwon muttered nonsense, his eyes rolled back.
“Close, baby. I’m—” Sangwon said in a haze.
“Me too, pretty, me too.”
“Geonwoo, I–I, I’m sorry.. I love you, I love you, I—”
Geonwoo thinks he blacked out for a second. Every nerve from his body is awakened to sense the sudden confession until he could feel warmth all over his body. Half from his pathetic and lovelorn heart, and the other half from the warm release spilling out from Sangwon as he came from his high.
Sangwon is breathless.
“Why the fuck would you say sorry?” Geonwoo whispers, and everything feels too much, too hot, too warm, he thinks he’s drunk because Sangwon is smiling beneath him even after he’s all fragile and sensitive after the long awaited release.
Geonwoo doesn’t realize it at first—until he can see a drop of liquid falling into Sangwon’s face and then he realized that he was crying.
Geonwoo never cries. Especially during sex. Why the fuck would he be crying during sex? But he does, because it’s Sangwon, and Sangwon is his angel and his whole world and he’s been shattering his heart since he was nine.
He’s so drained and he thinks he could faint, but Sangwon is still smiling as he murmured reassurance that is thankfully still audible to Geonwoo’s worn out senses.
“It’s okay, Geonwoo, I can take it. Cum for me, baby.”
“Wh–where—”
“Inside. Cum inside of me.”
Every one of his senses ruptured, an echo blazing through the room as the final thrust made him collapse on Sangwon, spurts of load filling him up entirely, and Sangwon stroked Geonwoo’s cheeks softly when the boy felt brittle in his arms.
The room fell quiet, like it’s been holding its breath.
Geonwoo laid still, breathless and heavy with thought, didn’t realize how Sangwon’s been stroking his hair the entire time as he also slowly catched his breath. Time goes on without much sound, minds slowly drifting away without much thought as the exhaustion took over their breaths.
There’s traces of longing hanging in the air, not knowing where to sit down. Or if it’s allowed to.
Geonwoo doesn’t know what time it is when his eyes wake up with half consciousness. He doesn’t even know what he’s saying. He doesn’t even know if the person sleeping beside him could hear what he’s muttering.
“Sangwon, have you finally ever learned how to peel mangoes?”
His voice was low and soft. It could probably go on unnoticed.
Sangwon slurred something in his position. He’s still up.
“No. You told me you would peel it for me forever, over and over again.”