Seoul, South Korea
December 24, 2015
11:45 pm
Christmas Eve

Snow.

It drifts lightly from above, the white specks that dust the streets in a fresh blanket of bleak winter. Snowflakes that kiss the pavement below, kiss the tops of heads and kiss cold, rosy cheeks as they settle. They are welcomed by children, who are giggling now and running home, leaving tracks in the snow from their school shoes pressed into the freshly covered ground. They are welcomed by lovers who now seek each other for warmth - smiling as they kiss each other, hold each other, protect each other - beneath greying skies.

A young business man fresh out of university in a form-fitting suit, black tie loose around his neck, stands on a bridge overlooking a park as he watches the snow fall and the wind’s slight breezes carry the flakes to and fro. However, he is not really looking, just thinking. Feeling. Lost. He sighs, hands becoming numb in the cold, and observes the way that his warm breath condenses in the cool air and takes shape. He shivers, puts his hands in his pockets after pulling the collar of his thick, wool overcoat closer to his neck and walks his first step in the white under his feet.

There are lights in the back of his vision, he sees them. The reds, the greens, the pale glows of white and off-white colours that line the streets and stores with their Christmas decorations. He knows that there are cafés filled with friends drinking hot chocolates with crushed peppermints sprinkled on top, toy stores filled with children sitting on a man in a red suit’s lap telling him that they’ve been good this year, jeweller shops filled with couples looking for the perfect way to say ‘I do’ and restaurants filled with families exchanging stories from last Christmas and laughing together. All of these places, he knows, have one thing in common and that factor is not the commercialization of Christmas, granted they all have that, and it’s not that they’re filled with people either. It’s the one thing he is missing this year.

Warmth.

They all have someone to share their lives with. Friends, children, lovers, family. He wishes, for once, that he had that too.

That warmth.

A young college student in what is now his fifth year sighs in content at the sight of the falling snow and opens his red umbrella fully before stepping outside of a little café at the end of his shift. He smiles to himself, unconsciously hums a Christmas carol that had been playing on the radio all night long at work, and ascends the hill before the bridge in small strides on his commute home. With the first snow arriving like this, he feels as though it’s finally, finally, Christmas time. And while he might not have anyone waiting for him at home in his lonely, little apartment, he’s happy.

The business man’s gaze is fixed on the ground, watching it intently with every step he takes. So intently, that he almost misses it.

The college student’s gaze is fixed on colourful lights, watching closely in awe at every decoration. So closely, that he almost misses it.

It’s a brief moment, a single heartbeat, a fraction of a second.

They barely register it when they glance at each other from the side and pause in their tracks. The world stops, all time halts, everything freezes just for them. In this moment, a distant memory from a time long before either two men were born resurfaces. It makes itself clear. Something lost that has been found once again.

❆❆❆

London, England
December 20, 1861
5 Days Until Christmas Day

It had been quite possibly the longest journey of Kim Minseok’s life - he certainly had not exaggerated this story when he had told it to his dear coach just as the man had arrived at the trainstation - and he wanted most desperately to be home. He sighed exceedingly in the carriage with his elbow propped up on the ledge of the window, side of his face rested neatly in his palm, eyes transfixed on the passing buildings that he had come to know through his youth. Sometimes, he wondered if he would ever come home to London, for living in Paris made for awfully difficult voyages home when the circumstances demanded it or when the family requested so.

The carriage rounded a bend, one that Minseok had been expecting when he clutched onto the side of the seat, and finally the Manor came into his view. He did not smile when he saw the building. It was still the same wrought iron gate to greet him at the end of the road to the house, still the same old marble fountain in the centre of the roundabout, still the same old house with its large pillars and even larger front doors looming over its visitors. Nothing changed about this place and he felt it ought not to do so anyhow. As much as he would loathe to admit it, the Kim Estate at the Kim Manor would always be his home. The one place in the entire world that he could come back to and call his own.

With him, Minseok took his luggage, bidding his driver a good night as he walked towards the house. It had just begun to snow and he smiled to himself despite the chill numbing his exposed skin with every breath of air from the wind’s howl. This weather meant Christmas and it was high time that he felt in the mood to celebrate.

He did not knock upon the door when he arrived, he simply turned the knob and, with a click, it opened so that he could let himself in. The sight of the parlour was remarkable, though he expected nothing less from the Kim Manor. There was a magnificent tree standing proud right in the centre and it smelled of evergreen, pine, nature. It was covered in slim, wax tapers - red, of course - that had yet to be lit. He delighted in the feeling of Christmas before another scent reached his senses. He breathed deep and grinned to himself at the strong smells of cinnamon and ginger that he could only recognize as his dear eldest brother’s cooking.

“It’s absolutely freezing in here!” A light voice and easily discernible as that of his younger brother, Jongdae, exclaimed in hysterics. “Did someone leave the door ajar? Jongin, was it you, again?”

“Was not!” Jongin, the youngest of the Kim siblings, blurted in appal for such an accusation.

“Aye!” Minseok called out doing his best to hide his chuckling, “The door is ajar with the luggage of a stranger who awaits his brothers for assistance!”

The bickering between the two youngest brothers halted almost immediately with the sound of Minseok’s voice reaching their ears. Jongdae was the first to the parlour with a yell of Minseok’s name - pure excitement as he came upon the young man closing the door after having stomped the snow from his boots. Jongdae nearly toppled over as he ran towards Minseok, throwing arms out to embrace him fully. Jongin was the second to the parlour, not even a second after Jongdae had made it, and slid across the floor in his sock-clad feet so that he, too, could hug his elder brother.

“We have missed you!” Jongin exclaimed, having circled behind Minseok so that he could slip his arms around the man’s waist since Jongdae had taken up his entire front.

“I have missed you most!” Jongdae insisted, squeezing his brother tighter, up on his tiptoes so that he might be able to wrap his arms around Minseok’s neck.

“Not true!” Jongin gasped, squeezing his brother’s middle hard, his face buried into Minseok’s mid-back.

“Boys,” An authoritative yet kind-hearted voice spoke with mild amusement present in its pitch, “Let go of your brother, will you? He looks as though he cannot breathe.”

The two boys did not waste time in releasing Minseok.

“I am not a boy,” Jongdae huffed with a pout, “I’m thirteen this year!”

Minseok reached out and ruffled Jongdae’s curly hair, “When did you become an adult?”

“This year, Minseok, don’t play games. You sent me a gift for my birthday in September.”

Minseok pretended to think of this for a moment before winking at Jongdae, “That I did. And did you make use of it?”

“Of course I did. I’ve read it about twenty times now!”

"'Moby ' is a funny title though," Jongin giggled, earning an amused smile from Minseok.

“Jongdae won’t put it down,” Junmyeon interjected with a firm nod, “Loves it, he does. I hope to have a chance to read it myself, even Hawthorne calls it an epic worthy of Homer.”

“Junmyeon,” Minseok greeted finally with a smile about his face, “How are you, brother?”

Junmyeon laughed, “I am well. Come in, come in. Leave your things there, I’ll have someone take them to your room. Now,” he said as he slung an arm over Minseok’s shoulder to lead him to the formal sitting room, “Tell me all about Paris.”

The eldest brothers of the Kim family sat for hours in their respective armchairs by the fireplace, lit aglow with a pale orangish tinge. Every now and again, Junmyeon would refill the wood and listen to the crackling of the fire and nature fighting with an expression of enjoyment on his face that matched the one on his brother’s. There were not many interruptions during their conversation, save for when Eunji, Junmyeon’s wife, entered the room to offer tea and biscuits and when Jongin and Jongdae arrived to say good night.

They spent the evening, and far into the night, speaking of their own lives since the last they had seen each other in the summer. Junmyeon asked of Minseok’s work in Paris and Minseok spoke of his endeavours at the university as a young professor in the field of revivinging the classics. Junmyeon delighted in the stories of old and the reliques that Minseok knew of. Then it was Junmyeon’s turn to reveal news of himself that quite shocked the younger.

“You’re to be a father!” Minseok exclaimed a little too loudly.

Junmyeon chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck in embarrassment, “That I am. Eunji is only a month pregnant and I have yet to tell the boys.”

“What wonderful news!” Minseok beamed as he grabbed his brother’s hands, “I am to be an uncle and you are to be a fantastic Father, no doubt.”

“I can only hope so.” Junmyeon blushed before shaking his hands away from Minseok’s grasp, “But, tell me, Minseok, when are you to marry?”

“Marry?” Minseok pondered this for a moment and shrugged, “I have no one I wish to marry. I am a busy man.”

“I, too, am a busy man, dear brother, but you cannot leave out love entirely from your existence, can you?” Junmyeon spoke as if he were an expert, “You need someone. I know a few young women living nearby who seek husbands, shall I call them to the Manor for Christmas dinner?”

Minseok laughed, “Highly unnecessary, Junmyeon, though quite thoughtful of you.” he sighed heavily, “There is someone who I have considered marrying. She is the daughter of the dean at the university. She spends so much time in my company and I in her’s that we might as well marry.”

“Dean Ahn’s daughter?” Junmyeon asked in surprise, “Ahn Heeyeon? I remember her when she was just a child and you had met her at the university during your studies.”

“Only four years the difference between her and I.” Minseok said as he thought of marriage and the future and of things that he could not control within his own being, “I do not know if she is a well match for me, brother, but she likes me and I find her tolerable.”

“Tolerable,” Junmyeon mused, “What does her Father say of this marriage?”

“He has agreed to it long ago, Junmyeon. We are to be engaged and married soon. Sometime in the New Year.” Minseok sighed, “I do like her, Heeyeon is a sweet girl. But, I do not believe that I can love her in the way she wants to be loved.”

Minseok went to bed with those thoughts weighing heavily on his mind. He loved Heeyeon, but not the way that she loved him. She loved him with all her heart, with every fiber of her being. Romantically. Passionately. Minseok loved her too - he wanted to protect her and make her smile. Platonically. He could never love her the same way she loved him. He could never love any woman the same way that they could potentially come to love him. No matter how hard he tried.

Because,

His love was illegal.

❆❆❆

December 21, 1861
4 Days Until Christmas Day

Before the first light of day, Minseok was startled awake by the sounds of metal pots clashing in the kitchen nearby. All dreams he had of sleeping in that morning were slowly fading and were altogether disrupted. He grumbled and pulled the downy duvet over his head in an attempt to go back to sleep, but it was all in vain as the crashing resounded once more in the house. Of all the rooms in the house, Minseok cursed that he was to spend his time this Christmas in the one closest to the kitchen. He fussed as he pulled himself from the covers, dressed with utmost haste and found himself trodding across the cold flooring to the kitchen so that he might find the cause of the noise.

If there was ever a moment in Minseok’s life where his breath was stolen away from him and his mind gone blank, it was this, as the door to the kitchen he pushed open with weak force. For there, in the kitchen was a young boy with fair hair, soft features and a delicate body that made him as though he were about the age of Jongdae. The boy turned, startled by the entrance and dropped, once more, the pots from his hands at the sight of a stranger in the doorway.

The boy swallowed hard, a blush now creeping onto his cheeks at the sight of the man there in his suit with strong features and a handsome face. His heart skipped a beat, his face flushed entirely now, and his stomach whirled into a frenzy of nervousness. This man before him was so beautiful and he wondered who this stranger might be.

This was the moment that would change the course of their lives forever.

It was not until another pan clattered from the cupboard behind the boy that the moment ended.

“I’m sorry, Sir, did I wake you, Sir?” The boy asked frantically.

Minseok cocked his head to the side, a soft smile forming on his lips at the sincerity of the kid before him. He looked very young, perhaps the same age as Jongdae, but with the memory of letters from Junmyeon, he knew that this could not be. This boy could only be Luhan, a seventeen year old university student whom would be residing in the Kim family’s home while he attended school in London. He was anything but what Minseok had expected to see.

“You must be Luhan,” Minseok said, walking into the kitchen and stretching a hand out towards the boy whose face was now red.

“Oh!” Luhan gasped reaching out and shaking Minseok’s hand, “You’re Minseok, the professor!”

That was the cue for Minseok to blush, “You’ve heard about me then?”

“Of course,” Luhan smiled shyly and watched with wide eyes in awe, “Everyone talks about you. Jongin adores you and Jongdae aspires to be you. You’ve a real reputation.”

“I’ve heard about you too, Luhan,” Minseok smiled, leaning over to pick a few pots up off of the floor.

“You have?” Luhan asked in surprise, copying Minseok’s action in his reach for the pots, “Nothing bad, I would hope.”

“Not even a little.” Minseok reassured, “What has you awake so early in the morn’?” he asked with a yawn as he stretched and replaced the pots in the cupboard.

“Ah,” Luhan rubbed the back of his neck and the backward smile on his face was the most endearing detail upon the boy’s youthful face, “Before Christmas break arrived, I was used to getting up betimes doing my lessons and I cannot seem to shake the habit. I thought I might make use of the time by preparing breakfast since I’d heard that you’d come in late last night. I apologize for not being able to greet you at the time of your arrival, Professor Kim, might you forgive me?”

“No need for that, Luhan. Formalities make me awfully jaded between friends. Just Minseok will do.”

“Friends?” Luhan questioned curiously, “Minseok, we have only just now met-”

Minseok laughed and Luhan tilted his head queerly, “You’re a friend of the family’s then you’re a friend of mine, Luhan.”

Luhan smiled then, laughed a bit too, before nodding, “I’ve just decided something.”

“And what might that be?”

“I like you, Minseok.”

Minseok was astonished to discover that Luhan was not simply studying English literature as Junmyeon had described in one of his many letters, but was also studying the classics. He was equally stunned to find that Luhan had taken up the library as his study room and found delight in the books that Minseok had come to love while he’d lived in the Manor as well. Luhan, as it turned out, was quite the studious student and was, in many ways, a parallel to Minseok when he had been only seventeen years of age.

The thing was that Minseok had taken quite an enjoyment in books at a young age after the passing of their Mother. She had been a lover of the written word and often read to them stories from faraway places that set aflame Minseok’s burning curiosity as a child. He took to her words after she left them and read through everything he could, spending all of his time in the old library while Junmyeon took over the family business, Jongdae went to school and Jongin was left in the care of his nanny.

It was through those very words in that library that Minseok decided to further his education after basic schooling and acquired a taste for the classical works. He discovered poets and found solace in the flow of ink on parchment. That was how he spent his time - acquainting himself with Virgil, Dante, Austen, Shakespeare, Byron, Marlowe, Ovid, Barnfield and Poe. It was his comfort after the passing of their Father and continued to be so even as he applied to universities all over the country.

Eventually, Minseok was absorbed into the world where words were all he needed to study and he took great joy in that. He joined societies that discussed the flow of those words, went to meetings where they performed the written and even dabbled in the likes of poetry himself. His own artform. And he was once recognized for his small poetries by a young man with whom he shared many aspects. Many aspects that he had to hide. Even so, he unveiled characteristics about himself and, for once, he felt comforted in his own skin surrounded by like minded people even if only from the pages of old books or in the form of the older student who he cared for so deeply.

He had taken a love for the classics as much as he had taken a love for literature and, alas, Minseok had become a professor in the areas that he held dearly to his heart. The only things he had come to hold dearly to his heart after the elder student was tried for being found guilty of being a homoual as he had committed unforgivable actions with another male whom that student had thought to have love him in return. It was this loss that made Minseok quiet and keep to himself, letting in no one save for his family, because they were his obligation. Howbeit, they did not know and he intended to keep it that way, even if he openly expressed it through sonnets.

So when he asked Luhan who it was that was his favourite poet in his studies, he was surprised to hear from the boy’s lips that he adored poetry by Lord Byron, Christopher Marlowe and Richard Barnfield.¹

“What is it that you study these days in your lessons, Luhan?” Minseok asked, casually as he could, seated across from the boy in the library who had just told him of his idols in literature - the names laced with something unforgivable.

“Virgil,” Luhan replied while twirling a piece of his curly hair about his index finger. He sat straight with shoulders squared, but still managed to look very childlike regardless of the posture and aura, “We have been reading the Aeneid. Though I have already read it.”²

“The Aeneid?” Minseok smiled as he leaned back in his chair, relaxing with his legs crossed and jacket sprawled on the arm of the chair, “A good read that demonstrates Augustus’ power in Rome, what do you think of that?”

“I think well of it, Sir- Minseok-” Luhan his lips nervously, “I believe that Augustus did his own properly for comparing himself to the legendary founder of Roman civilization and then to continuously do so as he compared himself to the legendary founder of Rome itself. He made his lineage known and affirmed his power well.”

“Enough for a deification,” Minseok mused with a smile, Luhan was quite the intellect and he enjoyed every word that came from the boy’s pretty, pink lips. Minseok cleared his throat to dispel the thoughts.

“Deification,” Luhan snorted before covering his face in embarrassment, “Except for him there was no comet.”

Minseok laughed, “No comet, but Zeus’ mighty bird was a close second, was it not?”³

Luhan chuckled, eyes turning into little crescents and crinkling at the corners and it was certainly the most breathtaking smile that Minseok had ever had the pleasure of laying his eyes on.

“I heard you spent a lot of time in here before you left,” Luhan said as he stood from his seat, “I hope you don’t mind that I’ve taken over a bit. I needed a place to study and I quite enjoy the books too. They’re nice company. The people in them and who’ve written them.” He spoke these words as he let his finger trail over the books on the shelves against the farthest wall.

Minseok watched possibly too intently as Luhan pulled one from the shelf that he recognized as a book of poetry he used to own when he lived in the Manor. Luhan his heels and walked back to the couch across from the armchair Minseok sat in, book tucked neatly under his arm until he was seated properly. He smiled shyly as he opened the cover, fingertips skimming over the leaves within until he found what it was that he sought.

“I will read to you now.” Luhan smiled with a faint pink blush upon his cheeks before he cleared his throat and read aloud thusly:

“What are to me those honours or renown
    Past or to come, a new born people’s cry?
Albeit for such I could despise a crown
    Or aught save laurel, or for such could die.
I am a fool of passion, and a frown
    Of thine to me is an adder’s eye
To the poor bird whose pinion fluttering down
    Wafts unto death the it bore so high;
Such this maddening fascination grown,
    So strong thy magic or so weak am I.”⁴

Minseok gulped, a strange hammering in his chest as Luhan looked up at him with those doe eyes beneath his bangs, “Lord Byron.”

“Last Words on Greece.” Luhan confirmed turning the book about to show the page to Minseok, “You’ve read this one before, have you not?”

Minseok closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose, “Yes.”

“You had it marked, you see,” Luhan explained, “A few poems in here by Lord Byron. I like them too. I used to read them in school until a teacher took the book away from me. He told me that there were words in there that young boys ought not to read.” he frowned and whispered, “Words that would poison our minds.”

“Do you believe that?” Minseok asked slowly opening his eyes to see Luhan shaking his head.

“I believe that all love is pure love, no matter who it is between, Minseok Sir,” Luhan said quietly his eyes downcast, “I believe that love is love.”

A silence fell between them that made the room feel as though it might suffocate Minseok. The tension he felt could be cut like warm butter with a spreading knife, he was most certain of it. He wondered vaguely if that was how Luhan had felt too until the boy’s small voice broke the silence.

“I have heard a lot of you,” Luhan whispered, “From your brothers. I feel as though I already know you.”

“I feel the same way about you, Luhan.” Minseok replied carefully and to those words Luhan’s head snapped upwards so that he could stare at Minseok in surprise. “My brother has written me so many letters about you.”

“What do you think of me now that you have met me?” Luhan asked nervously.

“You are more wonderful than I had expected you to be.” Minseok replied in earnest, his heart fluttering in his chest and his mind screaming at him to stop.

Luhan blushed, “You are much more handsome in person than I had imagined. I thought you would be boorish, honestly, please don’t think poorly of me. But, now that I’ve met you and we’ve talked, I really like you.” he his lips and worried his bottom lip before adding, “I like you a lot.”

❆❆❆

December 22, 1861
3 Days Until Christmas Day

Luhan had yet to leave Minseok’s side since his arrival. There was a strange, quirky charm about the elder that he enjoyed. It was the long talks, mostly poetry, the playful banter and the shared laughs in the confines of the library. It was the almond shaped eyes, the curl of plump lips, the shade of flawless skin and the perfectly coiffed hair atop his head. It was secrets reserved for Luhan in the passages of poetry that told a story about Minseok as he read them aloud in whispered voice. It was everything that Minseok was that made Luhan want to stay by him at all times.

Minseok had no room for complaint whenever Luhan would come up to him with a new book of poetry for them to divulge themselves in or a new concept that they would talk about over coffees and biscuits provided by Eunji. They locked themselves away and dreamed, read, escaped together. It was something Minseok had not been able to experience in a long time, closeness with someone in like mind.

By the afternoon, Minseok had made the executive decision to leave the Manor for just a few hours to get some fresh air pumping into their lungs and a diverse atmosphere to change the perspective of the day. Dusty books and musty libraries can only take the mind so far and often times, Minseok had explained to Luhan who seemed to be a perpetual shut-in, it is liberating to immerse oneself into surrounding that one is not used to.

“It can open doors,” Minseok said as he walked Luhan towards the coach and the younger listened intently, “As important as your studies are, there is an entirely unique experience in the world outside of printed ink and stale books.”

Luhan listened to every word of the elder and if Minseok were an endless fountain of knowledge, wisdom and poise, then he was a sponge that needed to soak it all in. In order to become one of the greats, to have a mind like those he admired - and certainly Minseok was one of those great men - then it was necessary to be attentive. So, it was attention that he gave. Minseok spoke and he was ready to please and to listen with open heart and awe-filled wonder.

A newly opened chocolate-house⁵ just down the road from the Kim Manor was all the talk amongst the locals and so Minseok thought that it would to be of a great conceit to bring Luhan there. They bundled in outerwear and took the equipage to the town for the afternoon with Eunji and Jongin, who were to spend the afternoon shopping. Minseok was quick to realize that certainly this was a grand idea, because the smile on Luhan’s pretty, pink lips was worth the wait for a seat in the house.

Luhan grinned brighter as the woman who served them so kindly brought forth desserts as an apology for their wait and bid them a good day as she returned to tend to another customer. Minseok watched Luhan, with a smile upon his own lips that he did not realize was even there, taking his first bite of delicious chocolate truffles topped with a drizzled strawberry sauce and filled with fudge. They were seated so far from everyone else, that the rout was merely background noise as they enjoyed one another’s company. It was risky, somehow, so it felt to Minseok, when Luhan moved his chair closer to his own and rested his small hand on the edge of Minseok’s seat. Minseok almost wished that they were more publicly exposed so that he might be able to stop himself from falling deeper into trouble with his own desires.

“Aren’t you thirsty?” Luhan asked, his breath hot on Minseok’s neck.

“Of course,” Minseok responded, voice much more hoarse than he had been expecting it to be when he picked up his beverage.

The rich and creamy substance in his white china cup foamed with bubbles and staring back at him was his own reflection in the brown liquid. Minseok hummed in delight at the taste on his lips of bitter, dark chocolate with the contrast of light, fluffy cream from his pastry to follow it. Luhan giggled at the sight of Minseok bringing the cups to his lips and sipping the hot drink in shallow swallows before he took a sip of his own milk chocolate drink.

His swirled with brown and white with a light, fluffy cream to top it off as he brought it to his lips to sip. Luhan sighed in glee at the taste and Minseok could only smile at the look of joy on the boy’s face. Minseok grinned wider when he noticed that Luhan had cream on his upper lip.

“Luhan,” Minseok chuckled, “Might you require a napkin?”

Luhan cocked his head to the side, “What for?”

“You have a bit of something on your lip,” Minseok said as he reached across with a gentle hand, “Allow me.”

Regret was the word that came to mind first when Minseok granted his fingers to touch the soft lips of the young boy in front of him whose breath caught in his throat instantly.

Alarms rung in Minseok’s head, telling him to stop, warning him of the dangers of this. This intimacy. The last time he had been this close to anyone, he lost them. Discovered the ugly truth behind himself and the even uglier truth behind the law. And he’s scared, frightened, feeling like this again, as though the world were caught on fire and this was his suffocation. Consequences for such feelings were far too great, the risk was high and he knew what would become of him if he fell through with his actions.

However, the touch was so hot under his fingertips, burning his flesh and striking within him a desire. Passion so strong, so tempting, so sinful as Luhan stared at him, eyes doe and lips slightly parted. What he thought of was so immoral and entirely wrong. It was disgusting, he was disgusted in himself, but he wanted it. Punishment for such a crime was heinous and that was why, despite the inclination lambent in Luhan’s features, he stole himself away.

“Thank you,” Luhan whispered.

It was just turning evening when the carriage arrived back at the Manor and Jongdae was there to greet them at the door. He had wanted to go into the town as well, however he had lessons that he had to do and too much reading to take care of. Alas, he was finally free to do as he pleased in the evening and he begged for Minseok to bake cookies with him and Jongin as they had when they were kids. It did not require much begging as Minseok always surrendered to his little brothers’ persistence.

In about two hours, Minseok had a sufficient amount of flower in his hair, on his clothing and upon his face. Indeed, the boys had their own share, including Luhan who admired the way that Minseok would hold Jongin up in his arms at the counter so he could press his own shapes into the cookies. He especially admired letting the younger boys take the lead and only assisted them when he felt they required assistance. He believed that, one day, Minseok might make a fine Father. Perhaps that was why he felt a pang of absolute jealousy in his chest, because Minseok was destined to Father children and how could he without a wife?

Luhan recognized his thoughts as envy and of the seven deadly sins. However, all his life, he had been told that of the sins, the greatest of these is lust. It tore apart families and ruined friendships. It was a destroyer. At this moment, it was his own atrophy. It was the cause of the deterioration of his mind, because what he felt was considered lust. He knew differently, for he felt differently.

Lust was not what he felt though he was told that it was exactly what it was. This sensation was a damned affection, he knew, as he watched Minseok smile and laugh. Lust was a boy with his hands down his trousers late at night under the covers in his bedroom when no one could hear him or see him. Lust was not the flutter in his heart when Minseok read to him. Lust was different, but the world could not see that. Torn was he that could not openly express his emotions and yet pained to keep them inside. He wondered, desperately, hopefully, if Minseok felt the same way. If anything, it would be a comfort for him, to know that he was not the only one. To know that it was natural and normal to feel these feelings he felt.

“I am too tired to continue on,” Jongdae groaned, sleep evident in his eyes, “I am going to bed.”

“It’d be best if we all went to bed, hm?” Minseok suggested and Jongin nodded, tugging on his older brother’s trousers with one hand and rubbing his eyes with the other.

“Shall we tuck them in?” Minseok asked Luhan and the boy shook his head from his reverie.

“Yes.” He said with a faint smile.

Jongdae ran ahead of them all and declared a race to the top of the stairs which Jongin only ran half of before Jongdae shouted from the top that he had won. Jongin frowned and waddled back towards Minseok before grabbing his hand. He noticed that Luhan was holding Minseok’s hand too. It made Luhan blush, because he was not aware when they had even tangled their fingers together, before he hastily let his grip fall away from Minseok’s warmth, no matter how much he craved it.

Minseok must not have realized this either, because he was surprised at the sudden loss in contact and stared at Luhan’s hand for a long time before looking at him quizzically. Expressions between them were becoming unmanageable.

“You two have spent quite some time with one another since Minseok’s arrival,” Junmyeon noted once they were in passing of his office and he looked up from his paperwork, surprised to see that Jongin was clutching onto Minseok.

Jongin rubbed sleepy eyes and yawned once more, “Minseok and Luhan are best friends, Junmyeon. They like each other a lot.”

“They do?” Junmyeon mused, but there was something sharp in his eyes that Minseok did not miss.

“They do,” Jongin smiled drowsily and reached for Minseok to picked him up. Minseok complied easily and let little Jongin wrap his arms around his neck while he cradled him, “I saw Luhan hold Minseok’s hand, Junmyeon, like how you hold pretty Eunji’s hand.”

Junmyeon quirked an eyebrow, “Friends can hold hands as much as couples can, Jongin, there is nothing wrong with that, for now.” He did not speak to Jongin though, he spoke towards both Minseok and Luhan.

Jongin yawned, “Carry me to bed, Minseok brother, and then read to me a history!”

Minseok laughed, but it was forced, “I will, Jongin, let us to bed. Good night, Junmyeon.”

“Sleep well.” Junmyeon replied, eyes back on his work.

Minseok did not, in fact, sleep well. Not in the slightest.

❆❆❆

December 23, 1861
2 Days Until Christmas Day

As chance would have it, Minseok was not the only resident in the Kim Manor having a sleepless night, for Luhan too lay in bed awake with eyes watching the ceiling above his bed. He grew bored with counting sheep as they jumped fence in his mind and became increasingly restless as his thoughts travelled to dangerous territory. There was nothing he could do to make the stirring stop except for venture to the kitchen to fetch himself a glass of water. He passed by Minseok’s room on the way and wondered if he was sleeping peacefully with lips parted gently with light snores coming from his mouth. He wondered if he dreamt and what he dreamt of. This only made him feel worse as he drowned himself in the liquid, letting the glass empty. Dismally, this did nothing for him.

In times like this, Luhan found it best to entertain himself with his favourite guests in the library. He pondered about which author he might invite to join him to bed as he grazed fingers over the books upon the shelves until he came across a book of sonnets by one William Shakespeare. Luhan, thinking that this book surely had seen better days, picked it from its place and planned to show William to his bedroom when, down the hall, he heard the faint sighing of a man most distraught.

“Minseok?” Luhan called beyond the door with a light knock upon the wooden frame - he was curious as to how he’d come to this room when it was so far from his own, but that mattered not, “Are you awake?”

He listened with curiosity as feet padded across the floor and the door before him creaked.

“Luhan?” Minseok mumbled as he pulled open the door taking in the full face of the boy in only his shorts and shirt. And, blushing terribly red, he asked, “What are you doing awake at such an hour? It’s nearly one in the morning.”

Luhan shuffled his feet nervously, “I’m having difficulty finding peace of mind tonight.”

“So you fetched a read?” Minseok peered at the book in Luhan’s arms, “Shakespeare’s sonnets?”

Luhan nodded, “Will you read to me? I,” he cleared his throat, “I find your voice soothing.”

“Oh,” Minseok smiled lopsided and opened the door further allowing for Luhan to enter, “Of course. Come in and sit here on the divan.”

Luhan did as instructed and let his legs dangle over the side of the seat, feet above the ground and unable to reach the floor. Minseok cooed inwardly at the sight and smiled groggily as he sat himself by the boy before pulling a robe over his shoulders. The book came into his possession and somehow Luhan had managed to wrap himself in the blanket from the foot of his bed, curling in on himself as Minseok opened the pages of the book.

“What sonnet have you in mind or does it not matter to you?” Minseok asked as he hesitantly put his arm behind Luhan in a protective manner. He told himself that this was necessary, because what if Luhan were to fall asleep on his watch and fell over? He could not let something like that happen. Excuses, is what his mind told him, everything was an excuse to get closer. All a guise, a trick, a lie that he told himself.

“You pick,” Luhan sighed softly as he leaned his head against Minseok’s shoulder.

Minseok stiffened, but, glancing at the closed door and curtain-covered window, he relaxed and opened the book. He flipped through page after page until he found the one that he wanted to read. Another poem to express himself, another poem that would tell explicitly his feelings without voicing them for everyone to hear. For everyone to understand.

“Being your slave what should I do but tend
Upon the hours, and times of your desire?
I have no precious time at all to spend;
Nor services to do, till you require.
No dare I chide the world without end hour,
Whilst I, my sovereign, watch the clock for you,
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
When you have bid your servant once adieu;
Nor dare I question with my jealous thought
Where you may be, or your affairs suppose,
But, like a sad slave, stay and think of nought
Save, where you are, how happy you make those.
    So true a fool is love, that in your will,
    Though you do anything, he thinks no ill.”⁶

“Minseok?” Luhan asked as the poem came to an end.

“Yes?”

“Thank you,” Luhan replied after much silence. It was not what he wanted to say, but he thought it might be enough.

Minseok, sighing in content, brushed fingers through Luhan’s locks and kissed his temple with barely a press of lips, before he replied, “You’re welcome.”

Sunlight streamed through the pale curtains setting the room aglow with soft light that made Minseok smile in his sleep as his eyes fluttered open and he felt a great sense of complacency. Something akin to belonging when he noticed the golden rays casting deep shadows on the face of the boy held firm in his arms and pressed against his chest. It was a feeling he would not trade for all the universe, one that made his heart skip a beat. Dreamlike states like this one were often part of his darkest fantasies and it was only when he heard Jongin running down the halls, the tiny footsteps echoing about his room, did he realize that this was no fantasy.

The crash of the world around him, the weight and the severity of the situation and current position in which he now found himself was a sudden snap in his mind, like that of a twig that an unsuspecting deer might trod upon before a hunter’s gun shot the innocence in such an act. There was no innocence in an act like this one, he feared, as he tried to stir Luhan awake in his embrace with whispered words and slight shakes. Luhan roused and blinked in confusion when his vision finally managed to focus on the room he was in and he was all too aware of which room this was when he did.

Panicked, Luhan jumped from Minseok’s arms and looked down at himself in only his undergarments and beheld Minseok in a similar state, but with silk robe draped over his shoulders. The elder looked equally as disturbed when a knock came on Minseok’s bedroom door. Luhan was quick to duck on the other side of the bed and hide himself as best he could beneath covers that had fallen off of the bed when the door opened and on the other side stood Jongdae in his day clothes.

“Have you only just awakened?” Jongdae chortled, “Your hair is all mussed, brother!”

Minseok chuckled stiffly, “Indeed, I shall get ready and join you all for breakfast shortly.”

“Okay! Oh, and have you seen Luhan this morning?” Jongdae inquired stepping one foot into the room.

“He is not in his room?” Minseok asked with breath caught in his lungs.

Jongdae shook his head childishly, “No.”

“Have you checked the library, perhaps?”

Jongdae shook his head again, “Should I look for him there?”

“No, no,” Minseok smiled and then ruffled Jongdae’s hair, “I will go check for him, alright? We will both come down to breakfast together. You run along and eat first.”

Jongdae nodded and ran off down the hall and Minseok let out a sigh of relief. This had been a close call and when Luhan poked his head out from the blankets from the other side of the bed with a relieved smile upon his face, Minseok knew that this was wrong. As innocent as accidentally falling asleep next to one another truly had been, they both knew that there was more than accident behind their actions. Their true motive was hidden deep within their hearts and Minseok decided that it was there their incitement must stay.

After a silent breakfast, where the tension was even felt by Jongdae and Jongin, the two boys excused themselves from the table, sparing only small, worried glances at both Luhan and Minseok. Eunji smiled, not oblivious, but pretending to be unaware of the circumstances, and left the kitchen so that only Junmyeon was left seated at the head table and Minseok was on his right next to Luhan whose face stayed downcast.

“Where were you this morning, Luhan?” Junmyeon asked, a harmless question in all honesty, but Luhan tensed nonetheless.

When neither party offered an answer even after Junmyeon had stared them both down, he folded his arms across his chest, “Might I have a word with Minseok alone, Luhan? You won’t mind, will you?”

Luhan shook his head vigorously before scrambling from the table, almost knocking over his chair in the process, as he left the room. He did not so much as look at Minseok before he did so. Minseok looked up at Junmyeon with a sheepish look on his face after the elder had cleared his throat. There was something akin to shame in Minseok’s own features, but Junmyeon seemingly dismissed it.

“I am worried about him,” Junmyeon sighed as he broke the silence.

Minseok swallowed the lump in his throat, “There is nothing to worry about. Luhan is a bright boy. He will surely do well in school and-”

“Not that,” Junmyeon interrupted, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, “I am worried about him spending so much time with you, Minseok.”

“Why would that be a concern?” Minseok croaked, his voice suddenly feeling hoarse.

“Minseok,” Junmyeon said sternly, almost in exasperation, “I know all about you and how you are. We’re brothers. I can see it. I know.”

Minseok choked on the air in his lungs, “Pardon?”

“I see the way you look at Luhan and the way he looks at you.” Junmyeon clenched and unclenched his fist, “You are far too obvious, dear brother. I’m worried for him. I’m worried for you.”

“I do not know what you are implying, Junmyeon, but you have nothing to worry about,” Minseok declared as he stood from his seat, “And this discussion is over.”

An’ there were anything that Minseok was best at in his feelings, it was avoidance. He was fantastic at avoiding things, feelings, business, and people, which was possibly not something he should consider as a decent quality in himself, but in this current situation, he thought it best. He felt he should be proud of such a characteristic, but he did not feel like boasting when Luhan came to the door of his bedroom and knocked, pleaded, for Minseok to open up. Minseok did not.

Minseok was crushed and felt himself slowly slipping away. The last threads of sanity that he clung to, he was starting to lose a grip on them and it was terrifying. Learning to control himself had been difficult to do, learning to hide feelings that were deemed unfit had been burdensome, because controlling one’s heart is not as easy as people make it out to be. Dealing with his thoughts had been simpler, because pushing away ideas and images from the mind was elementary - those things were not tangible. Fabrications of the mind were much easier to eliminate. It was like chasing away the monsters under your bed or the shadows hiding in the closet, because they were not really there to touch.

Resolving the heart, Minseok discovered, was much harder, because Luhan was tangible. These thoughts and feelings were real. He could touch and hold and… And kiss, if he so desired to, because it was right there in front of him. Manifestations of these thoughts, though, that was most troublesome since they were unlawful. As much as he desired, wanted, yearned for it, he could not have it. No matter how much the other wanted to same, because it was not allowed. They were not allowed to have what they wanted so it was better for him to hide away until he had to leave. It was only a few more days and Minseok convinced himself that he was able to do this.

However, Minseok’s willpower hesitated with every single knock that Luhan left on his door.

❆❆❆

December 24, 1861
Christmas Eve

Hearts could be swayed so easily when corrupt invitation was in one’s reach.

And Minseok’s heart had been blown off course entirely,

By a boy with wavy orange hair, soft features, a bright smile and doe eyes.

By a boy with a laugh that made angels weep and an intellect that most students his age desired.

But reality was cruel and Junmyeon made sure to remind him of that.

“I am appreciative that you would go through such lengths, Minseok,” Junmyeon stated when Minseok had entered his study, “Luhan seems… Less lively since.”

“It has only been a day, if that,” Minseok assured, but he, too, felt apathetic.

“He came to me yesterday, in tears,” Junmyeon drummed his fingernails atop of his wooden desk, “He told me something that shocked my entire being, Minseok, but I was not made sick by it as I thought I would be. Instead, I was made to think and think I have done. Since this morning, in fact.”

“You speak in cant,” Minseok furrowed his eyebrows, “I do not understand what you are attempting to relay to me here, brother.”

Junmyeon sighed heavily, “You know the penalty, Minseok,” he said as he tapped the tip of his quill against parchment, dating the top of the letter he intended to write.

Minseok blinked, “I am aware,” he replied after a moment’s thought, but his mouth sticky so that his tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth and his throat dry, “But, I have already told you that you have no worries.”

“I do, though,” Junmyeon frowned sympathetically, “I will not pretend to understand how it is that the both of you think, but I understand that it is different. And I would have no problems with it if it weren’t for the issues of punishment, Minseok, you must understand that you cannot continue to be like this any further.”

“I understand,” Minseok choked, “But allow me to talk to him, please.”

Junmyeon nodded, “By all means, you two are friends after all.”

It snowed that afternoon and when Luhan roused from sleep he found Minseok sat at the foot of his bed with a book in his hands and a shy smile on his lips. Luhan blinked the exhaustion from his eyes and smiled in return when he realized that this truly was Minseok in the room with him and not some remnants of a dream. He sighed happily and reached forward with his hands to grab Minseok’s in his own, squeezing them ever so slightly to make certain this was reality. He was most delighted to find out that, in fact, it was.

“You are here,” Luhan smiled, “Why did you leave me yesterday by myself?”

Minseok shook his head, “I am sorry about that, Luhan, but it’s… complicated.”

“Isn’t everything?” Luhan asked, “Why are you here so early in the morning though?”

“Morning?” Minseok chuckled quietly, “Luhan, it is mid-afternoon, you’ve slept nearly the entire day. How late did you stay awake last night?”

Luhan was surprised by this, but laughed, “I could not sleep, Minseok, the sun was to bed and awake once more, well before I finally closed my eyes.”

Minseok laughed, “What had you up so late?”

“I was thinking.”

“Of what?”

“The Aeneid.”

“Curious thoughts for late at night and well into the morning. What of it?”

“Might I tell you of my favoured passage from Virgil’s Aeneid?” Luhan asked suddenly as he shifted closer to Minseok on the bed.

Minseok smiled kindly, but inside he was in turmoil, “By all means, do tell.”

“The story of Nisus and Euryalus.”⁷ Luhan said without missing a single beat, “And their love for each other.”

Minseok nearly choked.

“Refugees from the Trojan War.” Luhan spoke as if he were recalling a dream, “Nisus was the eldest and Euryalus was his special friend. They died the night that they were on guard duty together, soldiers that fought for Aeneas and left the world side by side in tragic end.”

Minseok nodded and quoted to the best of his ability from the Aeneid, “As a purple flower cut by a plow droops in death, or as a poppy bows its weary head, heavy with spring rain.”⁸

“They were more than that though, were they not, Minseok?” Luhan questioned, a small fear in his eyes.

“It is just a simple history, Luhan-”

“Paiderastia. An ancient Greek custom. A special bond of sorts, between two men. That is simple history, Minseok, we spoke of it in class. You must know of this too?”⁹

“The relationship was often between an adult male and a younger male in his teenage years.” Minseok cleared his throat, “We did not much on the subject for it was considered immoral, Luhan. You ought, yourself, to forget it as well.”

Luhan shook his head and carefully placed his shaking hand on Minseok’s knee, “It was considered educational. Plato once wrote ‘for I know not any greater blessing to a young man who is beginning in life than a virtuous lover, or to a lover than a beloved youth.’¹⁰ They had the desire to see, to touch,” he paused and his lips as his gaze fell upon Minseok’s own pair of tempting petals, “To kiss.”

“Luhan,” Minseok warned through his teeth, but Luhan only pressed further.

“Minseok,” Luhan breathed, eyes flittering back up to peer into the elder’s as if he searched for the truth there. And he found it, hidden behind fear, the same longing he felt, “Ever and again, I feel as though I am Euryalus. Exposed as he is in Jean-Baptiste Roman’s sculpture, sprawled beneath Nisus, who loves his dear friend so much, and leaves in death. Am I to have a calm death like them one day too? Will I be given such peace at the end of life?”¹¹

“Luhan,” Minseok warned again, but Luhan would not stop.

“I do not want to die in regret, Minseok, I want to taste, too, the forbidden fruit.”

Minseok took a deep breath, “They were devoted from the start.”

“I do not know whether you mean faithful or damned.”¹²

“Luhan,” Minseok’s voice faltered slightly and Luhan looked at him with those beautiful, doe eyes that made his control waver. He sighed heavily before he tucked a strand of stray hair behind Luhan’s ear, “Ever and anon, I feel as though I am,” he sunk his top row of teeth into his bottom lip, “I feel that I am Nisus running to his dearest friend, clutching his hand close to his heart before he, too, falls into eternal slumber. I am afraid, Luhan, that I may have come too near to the forbidden fruit and I have seen the end that has come of its taste. An’ I were Nisus and were to meet someone like Euryalus, I would consider that bite once more.”

A silence fell between them and with it passed silent words that they both understood. They did not require poetry or any literature to perceive how the other felt, but when eyes closed and lips parted and bodies leaned closer, there was shout in the hall that tore them apart once more.

“Dinner is being served!” Jongdae yelled by the door.

The moment broke, reality made itself clear and the two left everything in the bedroom as they joined the dining table. Luhan was unsure what would have happened and Minseok was as equally unsure, but they both knew that this was not the end. They had one more night to be with one another to sort all of this, whatever this was, out between them. First, Minseok had to have a word with his brother, because his sanity was wearing thin and he could not hold himself back anymore. He had to speak his mind before he fell into despair, consumed by his own self-loathing.

“We are in the middle of Christmas Eve dinner, Minseok,” Junmyeon sighed as they stood in the hallway far from the crowds of people, “What are we doing out here?”

“I have come to ask you to forgive me for something.” Minseok said determinedly.

“Alright,” Junmyeon nodded thoughtfully in understanding and vague curiosity, “Go ahead then.”

Minseok took a deep breath and he felt as though his insides were collapsing on top of themselves when he spoke again, “Will you forgive me for being selfish this one time?”

Junmyeon did not understand at first, but when he noticed Luhan peeking out at them from the dining room before disappearing back inside, he figured he had all the information he needed, “Minseok, I cannot allow for that, what if-”

“Junmyeon,” Minseok exclaimed in exasperation, “Just let us this once have something we cannot, for Christmas sake, because as soon as I leave here on Christmas Day, I will never return while he resides in this house. I will leave and I will be married and I will live as I am supposed to. I will stay away from him and I will do my best to cover myself with good social graces so I will not live as a disappointment to you, Junmyeon, but please, let me just have this one thing. Just this once. I need to experience something real as you have experienced with Eunji. I know it is wrong, I know the austerity of these actions, but I can assure you that Luhan and I… I might not be able to stop my heart, brother, but I can pretend. If that is not enough for you, I do not know what else to say. I am torn, brother,” he choked on a silent sob and for the first time he noticed that he was crying, “And I am so very sorry, Junmyeon. Please, forgive me. I promise it will all be over after this Christmas, just allow me this one thing and I will be forever indebted to you.”

Junmyeon thought this over then swallowed the lump in his throat, for there were tears falling down his own cheeks and he knew that this was wrong, but Minseok was his brother and he would love him until the end of time, “I have your word?” Minseok nodded and Junmyeon sighed, “I trust you know what you are doing. Be careful. God, Minseok, please be careful.”

“Thank you,” Minseok sobbed as he pulled Junmyeon against him for a hug who instantly reciprocated, because as much as Junmyeon’s morals told him no, Minseok was his brother and he only wanted his happiness. Just this once, he thought, he could let it slip by him.

Evening was upon them sooner than they had anticipated and then so was the night. Jongin had been allowed to open one gift before he went to bed and it was another train for him to add to his collection that Minseok had brought back from Paris. Jongdae then opened his gift from Minseok and was pleased to find another book for him to enjoy - a recent publication of Charles Dicken’s ‘Great Expectations’ in three volumes. They boys were ecstatic and they each kissed Minseok on the cheek before going to bed with the promise of Saint Nicholas approaching arrival.

Before Minseok and Luhan parted way for the night, after a great Christmas Eve feast, Minseok pulled Luhan aside and brought him to the library where he produced a book.

“I have something here with me that I wish to read to you, Luhan,” Minseok said hesitantly as he opened the cover to his book with quivering fingers, “It is by Barnfield, you might recognize it.” he said before he began to read:

“Sighing, and sadly sitting by my Love,
    He ask’t the cause of my hearts sorrowing,
    Conjuring me by heavens etemall King
To tell the cause which me so much did move.
Compell’d: (quoth I) to thee will I confesse,
    Love is the cause; and only love it is
    That doth deprive me of my heavenly blisse.
Love is the paine that doth my heart opresse.
And what is she (quoth he) whom thou do’st love?
    Looke in this glasse (quoth I) there shalt thou see
    The perfect forme of my faelicitie.
When, thinking that it would strange Magique prove,
    He open’d it: and taking of the cover,
    He straight perceav’d himself to be my Lover.”¹³

“Beautiful,” Luhan whispered, “These words are so beautiful, Minseok.”

Minseok’s face reddened, “Barnfield had a way with the pen.”

“Minseok,” Luhan sighed as he placed a gently hand on the elder’s arm, “There is so much I wish to say to you-” he began, but Minseok hushed him.

“I have a gift for you,” Minseok said as he rummaged through the drawers of the oak desk and found a small box with a ribbon tied neatly on top, “I hope it says everything to you that I wish to say. Open it after I’ve gone to bed and then come see me at midnight.”

“Midnight, but why?” Luhan asked in surprise as he took the box in his hands, gently pulling the ribbon off.

“It will be Christmas Day then and I want to spend every moment of it with you by my side before I have to leave.” Minseok said rather boldly before disappearing out of the library.

Luhan’s heart pattered in his chest as he pulled of the ribbon. A million little butterflies filled his stomach as he removed the cover from the box and he could not help himself when he began to cry at the sight, his chest constricting and his hands trembling as he removed from the box’s walls a small looking-glass. His reflection stared back at him in astonishment through the tears that blurred his vision. He clawed at his chest in the hopes of relaxing his heavily beating heart, but there was no use. He was anxious now, more than he had ever been, for midnight to come, because he had just perceived himself to be Minseok's lover.

❆❆❆

December 25, 1861
Christmas Day

Twelve in the morning, exactly on the dot, was when Luhan slipped into Minseok’s bedroom. Minseok was not asleep as Luhan had expected him to be when he sat himself on the bed beside him. Luhan smiled though when he did notice that Minseok was watching him with a pink blush on his cheeks, from what he could tell at least in the dim candle light.

“I have written a poem for you, Minseok, for your Christmas gift,” Luhan began with whispers before he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reciting each line he’d written earlier from memory,

“Perchance to love and to be loved by you.
    Bating that this tenderness soft make lovers wry.
But Eros with his virtue shot arrow through,
    Fond heart of eromenos that thought could vie
For such affection from erastes the world deems taboo.
    Nature, whose law doth conflict, cannot deny,
Amor pius, that even Aeneas gave blessing where blessing due.
    Durst give unto passion? How long will thou to thyself lie?
And yet a thousand years mine love be true,
    Else I love no other until the day I die.”¹⁴

“Luhan,” Minseok whispered as he reached out and touched the boy’s cheek gingerly, “That was most exquisite.”

“Minseok,” Luhan whispered as he leaned into the touch, “I lo-”

“Say no more,” Minseok gasped and Luhan looked as though he might cry.

Minseok took a deep breath and smiled in consolance, “Do the gods put this fire in our hearts, Euryalus, or do our passions become our gods?” he quoted.¹⁴

Luhan frowned in confusion before he realized what it was that Minseok was doing.

Virgil.

The Aeneid.

The story of Nisus and Euryalus was something familiar to him, he knew it all too well and could quote the entire passage of their amor pius. This banter was not something unusual for him either, - Luhan understood the play, understood the terms - but he wondered if everything was always going to be an act between them. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, reflecting on the words of book nine, searching for the right ones to reply with.

“Are you refusing to let me join you, Nisus?” Luhan asked slowly, tears still silently streaming down his cheeks, “Am I supposed to send you out alone into danger like this?”¹⁶

Minseok took a deep breath, “No. And I pray that Jupiter, or whichever god might look on us with favor.” He shook his head and ran nervous fingers through his hair, “But if, as does happen in business like this, some god, or just bad luck, takes me down, I want you to survive me. Someone your age is worthier of life.”¹⁷

“Stop offering excuses. I’m not going to change my mind.” Luhan spoke determinedly with such a strong tone although his voice cracked and with such fierce eyes although he shed tears.¹⁸

“Are you sure, Luhan?” Minseok broke the barrier of poetry as he closed the gap between them.

“I am more than sure, Minseok.”

Under the cover of darkness, Minseok and Luhan gave into sinful pleasures. Not lust, not crime, but love. It was pure love that drove Minseok to push Luhan down into the white sheets of the bed and it was pure love that allowed Luhan to unravel easily underneath fingertips. Minseok decorated Luhan’s pale, delicate skin with purple and blue markings across his collar bones and throat while Luhan adorned Minseok with small indents of red crescent shapes all along his shoulders and back. They shifted together, as one for what felt like an eternity. Hushed whispers, whist gasps, reserved moans and quiet whimpers filled the room amongst the sounds of the soft thudding of skin against skin. And when they both cried out each other’s name’s muffled into each other’s mouths, where their lips continuously pressed, the room was filled with the scent of musk and they were both left covered in white bliss.

“Merry Christmas,” Minseok breathed heavily into Luhan’s ear who could only shiver.

“Merry Christmas,” he replied before falling asleep.

He missed it when Minseok whispered those three words he had been dying to hear and to say since they’d first met.

When Luhan awoke in the morning, he was alone in the bed. He scrambled in a panic to find Minseok, but all of his belongings were already gone and only a note laid beside him on a pillow with a page number on it and a book just beneath. Luhan had already started sobbing uncontrollably, and exposed amongst soiled sheets, when he turned to the page, spilling teardrops upon the print that smudged just slightly. He read the sonnet that Minseok had left for him and choked as he spoke the words aloud in the cold room.

“Let me confess that we two must be twain,
Although our undivided loves are one:
So shall those blots that do with me remain,
With thy help, by me be borne alone.
In our two loves there is but one respect,
Though in our lives a separable spite,
Which through it alter not love’s sole effect,
Yet doth it steal sweet hours from love’s delight.
I may not evermore acknowledge thee,
Lest my bewailed guilt should do thee shame,
Nor thou with public kindness honour me,
Unless thou take that honour from thy name:
    But do not so, I love thee in such sort,
    As thou being mine, mine is thy good report.”¹⁹

Luhan breathed hard through his cries, “Oh, Minseok, Minseok, I love you too.”

His only tokens of that love were bruises painting his pretty skin that faded and these words that would fade away too one day.

❆❆❆

January 6, 1862

In an issue of the local print, Junmyeon read two of the following articles with a heavy heart.

Forthcoming Marriages
Dr. M. Kim & Miss. H. Ahn
The engagement is announced between Minseok, son of the Kim family of London, and Heeyeon, daughter of Dr. Y. Ahn of Paris. They are due to be married April 20, 1862.

Notice of Death
Lu Han
Homoual university student from the literature & classics departments in London found deceased in Kim Manor. Death was reportedly a suicide.

❆❆❆

Seoul, South Korea
December 25, 2015
12:00 am
Christmas Day

There is a word for two people who meet for a second time without knowledge of the first time that they met and that word is ‘fate.’ Fate is one university student slipping on an icy bridge and one young businessman catching him before he falls. Fate is the shivers that race through their bodies, through their veins, not from cold, but from warmth. Fate is what brings them together once again and even in the silence and in such an awkward position, they both know that their lives have just changed forever.

“You look familiar,” The businessman says slowly after he’s steadied the younger on his feet, as if he’s unsure he should be saying anything at all.

“In our endeavours to recall to memory something long forgotten, we often find ourselves upon the very verge of remembrance, without being able, in the end, to remember."²⁰ The university student says with a smile.

“Edgar Allan Poe.” The businessman says.

“Ligeia.” The student confirms with a brighter smile that the businessman finds endearing, “You know your poetry?”

“I dabbled here and there while in university.” The man replies looking deeper into the eyes of the boy before him, he can’t place it, but he’s seen them somewhere before. Seen that warmth and felt it too.

“My minor is in literature.” The student explains.

The businessman hums in appreciation, “And your major?”

“Classics.” Comes the reply, “And yours?”

“Business. But I minored in classics. I know my great classical literature too. I see you carry the Aeneid.” The man smiles then, genuinely, for the first time in far too long, when he gestures to the book tucked beneath the student’s arm.

“Ah, we’re reading it now, but I’ve read it before.” The student chuckles as he rubs the back of his neck in slight embarrassment. There’s something about this man that he likes, but he’s not sure exactly what it is.

“Do you have a favourite passage?” The man asks suddenly, drawing the student from his thoughts.

“Nisus and Euryalus.” The student begins to say, “Their love is so-”

“Admirable.” The man finishes for him.

“I can’t imagine living in an age where my love is illegal.” The student sighs before making direct eye contact with the man and he swears he’s seen these eyes before once while they pressed their lips together. Blood instantly rushes to his cheeks at the thought.

“Neither can I.” The man manages to whisper before they fall into a comfortable silence.

It is highly unusual for strangers to click together so easily, like two puzzle pieces that had been missing their other halves. Not that the young businessman minds someone that he can speak with so easily. The university student, had he heard the man’s thoughts, would agree.

“I should be on my way.” The man finally says taking a glance at his watch.

The student startles, “Oh! I’m so sorry to keep you and on Christmas Day too! You look like such a busy man-”

“Not really.” The man says quickly, but then he realizes how pathetic it sounds and he wonders if maybe he should have said nothing at all.

“No one waiting for you at home?” The student inquires, unsure as to why he’s so curious about this person, perhaps it's the warmth he feels as he gazes into the man’s eyes.

“Just me. And you?” The man asks, but the student shakes his head in reply “I see.”

The student worries his bottom lip between his teeth before he smiles shyly, “If you’re really not busy would you… Consider having hot chocolate with a perfect stranger?”

The businessman is taken aback, he’s never been asked something like this before and nor has he ever considered doing something like this, but he’s drawn to this boy somehow. And so he smiles and says, “I would love that, actually.”

“Good, I was hoping you’d say so.” The student chuckles in almost relief, “We can talk about this,” he says as he waves around his copy of the Aeneid. The man laughs then too.

Sometimes, people meet in this life and they think that they’re destined to be. They’re convinced that they’ve found the one the minute they lay eyes on them. And while that may be the case for some, not every couple starts off by falling in love at first sight. However, when the student pushes the businessman back onto his bed in his apartment after dangling mistletoe over his head and demanding a kiss outside of the coffee shop, they think that they might be an exception. And they might be right.

When they wake up in the morning, they’re both pleased to find themselves in each other’s arms.

The student laughs when he wakes up to see the businessman reading his copy of the Aeneid while still with arms wrapped around his waist, and kisses his nose, “Merry Christmas, Luhan.” he says, bright smile on his face, because he likes the way that the name fits on his lips - the same way he likes the way Luhan’s lips fit on his.

The businessman smiles and blushes bright red before kissing the boy properly, slotting their lips together in a languid, lazy morning kiss with soft, slick sounds, “Merry Christmas, Minseok.” he whispers back in reply.

And sometimes when people say that they’re meant to be, they really are.

❆FIN❆

Notes:

1.  Lord Gordon Byron (1788-1824), Christopher Marlowe (1564-1593) & Richard Barnfield (1574-1620) are all notable for their poetry and interests in men.

2.  The Aeneid is an epic written by Virgil for Roman Emperor Augustus that details Aeneas' long journey from Troy to Italy where he founds the Roman peoples (but not Rome itself).

3. Deification is the act of immortalizing a person. Roman emperors were often deified. Here, Luhan and Minseok are playing with the idea of the Julius Caesar comet (or the great comet of 44 BC) that appeared during Caesar's funeral games after his death. Augustus, Caesar's adopted son, claimed that the comet was actually Caesar ascending to the heavens. When Augustus died and he was deified, there was no great comet, but instead they released an eagle (also noted as a symbol for the Roman god Zeus) as a symbol of Augustus' ascension to heaven.

4. Last Words on Greece - a poem written by Lord Byron in 1824.

5. Chocolate-houses were as common as tea-houses and coffee-houses were after the introduction of hot chocolate.

6. Sonnet 57 by William Shakespeare.

7. Nisus and Euryalus is part of the greater epic of Virgil's Aeneid. The story goes that they snuck away from their post at night and tried to attack the opposing force of Aneas' army, but were instead killed together. What is most interesting to scholars though is their love for each other that Virgil makes comparable to amor pius (dutiful love). They are often viewed as lovers or for having a quality like that of paiderastia (see #9).

8. Lines 520-22 from Book Nine of Virgil's Aeneid. Shortly after the death of Euryalus and just before Nisus runs out to be with him.

9. The Greek custom of paiderastia (pederasty) was a socially recognized ual relationship between two men, one who was an adult called erastes and the other who was a teenaged boy called eromenos.

10. This quote comes from Plato's Phaedrus.

11. Luhan refers to this sculpture that was sculpted by Jean-Baptiste Roman in 1827, now displayed in the Louvre (Paris, France).

12. The word 'devoted' could be used as meaning both 'devoted' and 'damned' - Luhan is unsure as to which meaning Minseok uses here (it's a bit of both).

13. Sonnet 11 by Richard Barnfield.

14. This poem has no title, because I wrote it specifically for this. I tried to write a sonnet, but iambic pentameter is hard lol so some of the lines are written as they should be for a sonnet (ex: "Perchance / to love / and to / be loved / by you").

15. Lines 224-26 from Book Nine of Virgil's Aeneid.

16. Lines 241-44 from Book Nine of Virgil's Aeneid.

17. Lines 253-59 from Book Nine of Virgil's Aeneid.

18. Lines 267-68 from Book Nine of Virgil's Aeneid.

*notes 15-18: When Minseok and Luhan use these lines, they are taken out of context and used to express their own thoughts and feelings as they have done throughout the story by use of poetry. Also, the full lines are not quoted in the story.

19. Sonnet 36 by William Shakespeare.

20. This quote comes from Edgar Allan Poe's Ligeia.