The train station was bustling with people when they arrived. Steam hissed angrily from the hot engine, filling the air around them with a hot, white haze. Someone shoved Himchan as they passed, hurrying to make it onto the carriage before them. He stumbled and tightened his arm around Jongup's slender form, just to make sure he was safe.

Somewhere further down the platform a man called for all to get on board – the train was about to leave. Jongup was silent as he tugged on Himchan's hand, stepping up onto the stairs that lead into the cabin and easily sliding into a seat. The fabric beneath them was rough and scratchy, and it smelled of dust and wood, but the window was as wide as Jongup's eyes as he looked out, bidding a silent goodbye to their home of just a few short months.

The night before, they had folded what few belongings they had into a white sheet, tying the corners in knots and Himchan now placed the soft parcel beside him, his eyes fixed on to Jongup's profile as the boy watched the world outside. It was moments like this as they bathed in the familiar warmth of silence that Himchan could truly appreciate how beautiful the boy truly was.

Metal wheels screeched on uneven tracks as the train began to move. People all around them waved from the windows, calling out to loved ones. A woman ahead of them cried as she waved, a man behind them laughed and hurled what Himchan was sure were some kind of inside jokes. Himchan and Jongup had no one to farewell in the city. All they had was each other.

Summer had faded into autumn, and the auburn leaves had fallen into winter. The city flourished all year round, no one making preparations for the oncoming chill. The city people lacked the anxiety of the harvest, nor did they think to stock or save for when the mornings got colder, and the nights longer. Arriving on the mainland had been overwhelming for the Pastor's son. Crowds of people larger than his whole town filled the streets, it was loud and often times he had felt afraid, but Himchan always kept him safe, just as he had promised that night not long ago.

To Jongup, Himchan was the sea. His teeth were pearls, his hair sea grass. His angular jaw and cheekbones were cut from coral, while his eyes were the almost black depths of the Mariana. The wash of his warm breath over skin was like rhythmic waves crashing over sand.

If Himchan was the tide, Jongup was the moon, the two coming together to create the most beautiful synchrony.

Jongup's eyes were focused on the window as the city passed them by. Smoke rose from chimneys, wheels rolled over stone, the hustle and bustle would not be any different from losing them, and there was something he liked about that. When they arrived, nothing had changed, and now they were to leave again and still the city would continue in it's constant thrum.

On their second day in the city, they had found a small room to rent above the fish markets. A kind Ahjumma had set them up with a mattress on the floor, and a wash basin in the corner. Himchan had explained to her that they were close, and they did not mind sharing a futon and she had smiled kindly, not asking questions. It was small, just a single room with one window which if climbed through there was room enough on the roof to sit and watch the ships come in from the open ocean.

The air always smelled of salt and low tide, but it was their home. Every morning they would awake between white sheets. Himchan would slip himself free and dress in what little they had to find food, because he would never allow his Little Fawn to go hungry. When he would return, Jongup would greet him with a tired smile, the sheets slipping down over his skin,

“Himchannie come back..” he would murmur, hoping to entice his elder love to return to him. Himchan would roll his eyes and straighten his clothes, trying to get himself into some kind of presentable state. The ahjumma who owned their room had given him a job in the fish markets below, selling and stocking the catch in the early mornings. Jongup would greet him with a feline arch of his bare skin, his eyes pleading for Himchan's warmth to return to him.

“You know I can't come back to bed.” Himchan would smile as he knelt on the floor beside the mattress. His hand would smooth down Jongup's spine, his lips following in slow succession. Their love was warm, and it was safe.

“But I miss you when you go..” Jongup murmured, turning his head and watching as Himchan kissed over his bare skin, a shiver sliding through him. Warm hands settled upon Jongup's rear which had been revealed by the slipping sheet and he watched as his elder love spread him open.

“Then when I come home, you will be happy to see me.” Himchan reasoned. Morning light filtered through the window as the room filled with gasps of pleasure as Himchan's kisses trailed between his parted cheeks. He had left Jongup that morning satisfied and thrumming with the thrills of passion.

Their fish markets were trailing far behind as the rickety train rounded a corner. The beams creaked and the engine chugged, leaving a cloud of steam in the air. Jongup shifted on the hard seat and pressed a hand to the window,

“Hyung... Look.” he murmured. Himchan's gaze tore away from his beautiful love, to instead look out the window. The train had left the city limits, and they were now passing through fields of golden wheat as far as the eye could see. The crop looked as though it were flowing like a river of Gold as each stem shook and swayed in the wind.

“The Wheat must have matured late this year.” Himchan said, “They should Harvest it before the snow comes.” His arm slipped carefully around Jongup's middle, bringing him in against his chest, watching the way he stared with such a fixation.

“It looks like the world is covered in a blanket of Gold.” He murmured softly, turning his head to look at Himchan, his eyes shining with something Himchan did not understand. He remembered the way Jongup would brush his fingers over the delicate petals of the flowering Canola on the island across the water. Jongup had always had a gentle heart, and his emotion swelled with an intensity he did not quite know how to process.

Since arriving on the mainland, Himchan knew Jongup had fought with himself. The loss of his family had struck him hard, but it was his battle inside that had found his greatest struggle.

Not long after finding their city home, Jongup had stumbled upon a small church. It was modest, and the Pastor was kind and understanding with Jongup. He gave the boy a bible, and offered for him to return whenever he needed to speak about his turmoils, and Jongup had taken the book home. He had wrapped it in a small cloth and kept it safe beneath his pillow through the nights, only reading it when Himchan would leave him alone each morning.

An evening in late October had seen Himchan's return to their room, tired and worn from a hard day. He opened the door to their modest room, finding it dark and silent. Empty of anything. He lit a lamp by the door and spied the bible thrown across the room, having smashed a bowl in it's collision. Pages were bent out of shape, and a couple had ripped and Himchan picked up the book that he knew had caused him such agony, but one that his dearest love still clung to with a desperate need. God had been a constant in all of Jongup's life, and he could not simply turn his back on everything he had been taught.

Cold wind blew through the open window, and Himchan stepped to close it when he saw Jongup sitting alone on the roof. His legs were brought tight to his chest, his chin rested upon the knees which he hugged close, watching the sea before them as lights from ships approached the harbour.

“It's cold out here, Little Fawn..” Himchan said, climbing through the window behind his love. He sat himself down and removed his coat, wrapping it tightly around Jongup's shoulders. Jongup turned his head and looked up at Himchan, his eyes red and swollen, his lips parted as he sniffled. He looked down and leant in to the arms that held him.

Jongup remained silent for a long while, allowing the security of Himchan's body to keep him steady, and remind him of love. A fog horn sounded across the docklands, a ferry coming alongside the wharf, freeing it's passengers from their maritime hold. The dark sky was filled with clouds, and Himchan knew the first snow was coming soon. It always began inland, and then slowly moved its way out towards the seaside, dusting the world in the fresh white powder.

“Why did you throw your book?” Himchan asked, pressing his lips to Jongup's hair. The strands were cold, and he only brought the boy closer in to his form. He knew they needed to go inside. Jongup's eyes drooped tiredly as he in slow breaths. The slow thump of Himchan's heart was steady in his ear, and he wondered if he could concentrate enough to make his own beat in unison.

“Without losing a piece of me... How will I get to Heaven?” He asked, his voice soft. Himchan's heart ached for his tormented Angel, his hand guiding his head into his shoulder, nuzzling gently into him.

“You are good, my love. You are kind. No God would deny you salvation.” He reassured with a gentle voice. He knew what the Bible said, and he knew Jongup was not ignorant of what their relationship meant for him.

“As long as I love you, Himchannie-hyung.. I am not welcome in Heaven.” He voiced the words, and Himchan closed his eyes. It had been the start of September when they had come to the mainland, the leaves had just began to turn. Now the trees stood beside the roads, and each morning came the soft chill of frost, and early winter. Months had passed since they had left the island, “I don't regret it.” Jongup confessed, “I don't regret choosing you.”

Himchan's smile was sad as he kissed the side of Jongup's head once again, “God would be a fool to deny himself the joy of loving you.”

The train lurched on the track, as they watched the fields of gold pass them by. Jongup's forehead was pressed against the glass window, his eyes flicking and and following each passing sight, before they fluttered and slowly drifted closed, his breath fogging the glass. Himchan lifted their bundle of belongings from the seat beside him and lay it down into his lap so that he could gently guide Jongup's head to rest upon the softness.

“Himchannie?” the boy asked in confusion as he was shifted, but Himchan just through his messy black hair in a slow rhythm,

“Sleep, Little Fawn. There is still a long way to go before we get there.” He responded. Jongup nodded his head and settled down, his lips parting as he drifted off into slumber. It was Himchan's turn to watch the scenery as it fluttered by, the golden ocean of Wheat fading into the green of other crops, and finally into the forest. The train chased the setting sun across land and over mountains, slithering like a snake through trees and pastures. He watched the cows grazing over grass and wondered about the farm Jongup had left far behind.

From time to time things must be forgotten so that new lives can be created just as land must be reaped before new crops can grow. Seasons changed, and with them did people but Himchan knew that with every changing season he would never stop loving Jongup.

Somewhere along the tracks, Himchan had fallen asleep. The steady rocking and chugging of the train had lulled him into the safety of slumber, and he was jolted awake as the train made it into the station. The sky was glowing with the early light of dawn, and people all around them had began to move. Jongup was curled close into his lap, and he brushed his fingers gently over his face to urge him to consciousness.

“Little Fawn... We've arrived.” Himchan whispered to him. Dark eyes blinked open, and soft lips pursed into a pout, but he did not resist. They made their way silently through the crowds of families there to welcome those they had loved who had travelled across the country but again Himchan and Jongup silently slipped away alone. They did not step into the city, but instead turned away and made it towards the cliffs.

The trail was worn from use, and neither man complained even though they both felt the tiredness aching through their limbs because as long as they had one another, nothing could hurt. Himchan dragged their bundle of belongings over his shoulder, remembering how Jongup had folded each one of their items with such love and care in preparation for the journey.

“We do not want our things to be damaged.” he had said as he folded Himchan's shirts together and lay them upon his pants. He always touched everything Himchan owned with such tender care, as though every scrap of fabric was a part of him. Himchan had not noticed the Bible laying on the floor until they had been about to leave, but when he had reminded Jongup not to forget the book, the boy had simply smiled, “It should remain here, Himchannie.” He had said, lifting their bundled belongings into his arms, “It does not belong where we are going.”

Black clouds filled the sky, and thunder rumbled somewhere overhead. Waves crashed against the base of the cliffs in anticipation of the oncoming storm. Jongup stopped walking and looked out to sea again, just as Dawn broke over the ocean. With first light came promise of a new life, and they knew that when this storm passed, the skies would once again shine blue for them.

“If it means losing a piece of me.. I don't want His Heaven.” Jongup said, breaking the silence as they stood together far above the waves. Himchan watched him as he turned his head, the wind whipping his hair across his face.

He knew that with every new day, he would continue to chase Jongup like the tide chases the sand, but Jongup would never run from him because when they had one another, they had found Heaven.