It had been a few months since summer had ended and the cool, leaf-covered tendrils of fall were taking hold of his college campus during his sophomore year. Jongdae was getting accustomed to being on his own, far away from home. He had made a few acquaintances and was getting along great with his roommate, Chanyeol. Jongdae was an adventurous soul, great at adapting. On the days he didn’t have classes, he’d take a walk and just go in one direction until it started getting dark, taking in all of the sights. It was during one of these adventures a year ago that he had come upon a very small teashop. It was so small and inconspicuous that he had almost not noticed it, between a Vietnamese restaurant and a used book store. Taking note of the location of the bookstore, he slipped into the teashop, looking up as a small bell tinkled and alerted whoever was in there to his entry.

It was…well, he couldn’t think of another word better than quaint. Homey? The interior was pleasantly warm and smelled like fruit and tea leaves. The aroma took him back to winter time back home, when his mother would make a large pot of tea for just the two of them, his father far preferring coffee. They’d sweeten it with honey and snuggle all together on the couch, mugs warming their chilled hands as they watched the flames dance in the fireplace, being warmed both inside and out as the outside world was blanketed in white.

He had approached the counter to find a small, old woman measuring out and mixing tea leaves and what looked dried fruits. Seeing him, she had looked up and smiled warmly, all his trepidation at venturing into a new place had leaked out of him.

“What can I get you dear?” Jongdae had no idea…he hadn’t even considered what he’d get even though he’d been standing there for a while.

“Um…what would you recommend?” She smiled knowingly at him and gestures for him to take a seat as she goes to the back and starts brewing.

Jongdae sat in a seat near the window so he could watch people walking by. It was his first week and he was stressed and lonely. As he thought about his woes, the sweet old lady came and set down a teapot and a matching teacup. The young man tried to smile up at her, but she wasn’t fazed when he wasn’t quite able to.

“I call this mix ‘Summer Nostalgia’.” She mumbles, pouring him his first cup and returning to her place behind the counter.

That was the first time he had tasted Summer Nostalgia. Now that an entire year had passed, it was his go to tea on hard days and on days where he just wanted to remember. He unlocks the door to his dorm and slips his book bag off of his shoulder, tossing it onto his bed and heading into the small kitchenette. It looked like it was about to rain on his way home, breeze ruffling the orange, yellow and red leaves and bringing the clouds closer together. Curling up on the couch facing the window, he clutches his mug with both hands and watches the storm approach, the taste of tea and the smell of the rain taking him back a year and a few months ago…before he had moved away from his small town in the country.

*~_~*

There were three boys. Inseparable, or so they had thought. They had just graduated high school and had their wholes lives ahead of them now. They had gone to daycare together, had grown up until this point together and had never seriously imagined that one day, their paths would diverge, leading them away from each other.

As inseparable as these boys were, they were as different as people could be. There was Joonmyeon, the ever responsible one. He was the one the parents would leave in charge should they ever leave the three to their own devices. He was small, but despite his stature had the most frightening ‘no nonsense’ look anyone would find on a boy his age. There was Yifan, the awkward but extremely productive one. He was the one that had taken the longest to speak to the other two when they had first become friends, but he was the one that go into the second most amount of trouble. He was always doing something, trying out experiments he had read about, collecting pieces of driftwood at the beach to build a treehouse, suggesting all manner of adventures for his friends and him to partake in. Tall and willowy, it sometimes seemed that while his head was in the clouds, his body would be blown away. There was, of course, Jongdae. He was the sweet, mischievous one. There was never a more well-meaning and thoughtful boy than him. He was the one that got into the most trouble, however. While Yifan might suggest the activity, Jongdae would come up with ways to make it ‘more interesting’, in his words. Between the two of them, it was surprising Joonmyeon wasn’t grey by the time he was fifteen. They were Suho, Kris and Chen, respectively.

As children, these were the names of their super alter-egos that came out during the summer.

 Suho (the sound water makes when pulling into a wave and crashing upon the shore) was a wizard who had come from faraway lands full of mystery and wonder. His magic let him control water (Joonmyeon would use the hose, or pretend he was the one making the waves, if they happened to be at the beach), and all derivatives thereof.

Kris (something about the English expression of ‘burning someone to a krisp) was a dragon of old, scales tougher than any metal, eyes that glowed orange with the flames inside of him, wings that could blot out the sun (Yifan had crafted many pairs of wings, each prototype more elaborate than the last, out of whatever he could find), and a growl that was so deep, it made the earth shake.

Chen (the cry of a dangerous bird of prey) was a thunderbird, feathers of silver and blue, talons of obsidian that smelled of ozone and lightning so bright it was blinding ( Jongdae would make sure to rub his socks vigorously against every carpet in his house before venturing out, the wonders of static electricity). The three played like this from the time they started going to ‘big kid school’ to the time that puberty made it so games like that weren’t as fun as comic books and learning to surf and girls.

Despite no longer playing the game, the three young men still referred to each other as Suho, Kris and Chen from time to time.

There was never a closer trio of people. They understood without speaking, and spoke what another was thinking. Their friendship was the envy of every other kid who met them. There was never a more tightly knit group of friends, their bonds too strong to break, and strong enough to stretch.

School had ended a month ago. They had walked in front of their parents and their friend’s parents and received the sheet of thick, off-white paper signifying that they were done with high school. They had learned all that those twelve years could teach them and it was time for them move on to bigger and better things. The way true friends do, they had spoken about what they were going to do after graduation. As true friends do, they accepted that they might not always be together and that a decision made did not equal a friendship broke. Their bonds were too strong to break and strong enough to stretch over any amount of time or distance.

Joonmyeon was going to a highly respected culinary school in Europe. He was the best cook among the three friends (the only cook among the three friends), and it was his dream to tantalize the tongues of thousands with the flavors he created, the textures he painted with a whisk and a pan. He loved the idea of an organized kitchen, everything where he put it and everything becoming chaos when he cooked so he could put everything back in its place. The light in eyes was so bright when he thought about his future.

Yifan was moving back to China with his family and going to a prestigious engineering school. He wanted nothing more than to hone all of his ideas and turn them all into living, breathing things. His fingers itch at the prospect of innovating, inventing and streamlining designs, making things better than they once were and creating things that have never been. There wouldn’t be a need for verbal communication because with a pencil and graph paper, he could communicate everything he would ever want to say or want to do in his designs, in his hopes and aspirations. His fingers twitch with anticipation of his future.

Jongdae had been accepted to the number one liberal arts university in Seoul. He loved helping people, seeing them smile and feeling the warmth that radiated off of a person when they were really, truly, genuinely happy. He couldn’t imagine anything better, more beautiful than helping children so they can grow into the happiest people they could be and spread that happiness to others. He was going to study social work and child psychology. Nothing was more meaningful to him than letting children know that no matter how hard things get, there will always be someone there who cares. He wanted nothing more than to be that someone, for as many people as would let him. His heart swelled as he thought about his future.

More than being excited for themselves even, the three young men were even more excited for each other. Even more so than striving towards their goals, the thought of their friends accomplishing their lifetime aspirations brought mirth to their laughter and joy to their smiles.

*~_~*

The boys were each in their respective homes, in different parts of their tiny country town. The sun was beginning to set.

Joonmyeon was packing up his room, not sure if he’d be home before next summer.

Yifan was packing up his house, not sure whether he’d be home ever.

Jongdae was packing enough clothes to last him, not sure if he’d be back before Christmas.

It was as things began disappearing into boxes and suitcases, being moved from the places they had occupied for years and years that the memories of how those things got there assaulted the three friends. They were excited, both for themselves and each other, after all, they always wanted adventure and what better adventure than the one delving into the rest of their lives? That didn’t make it hurt any less. Their bond is too strong to break, but strong enough to stretch. Flexibility comes with practice and for three boys who had never been without each other, there hadn’t been much of that.

Joonmyeon looked into his boxes, tears welling in his eyes at the thought of not being able to immediately see his best friends, his brothers. He’d miss how maddening and disorganized the other two could be. He’d miss how much laughter there was when they were all together. He’d miss them needing him.

Yifan looked at the progressively empty walls and rooms in his house, chest feeling tight to the point that he couldn’t breathe. He’d miss devastating Joonmyeon with his messy thought process. He’d miss Jongdae and how he made him feel like words weren’t necessary. He’d miss being at home no matter where he was, because being with them was home.

Jongdae stared into his suitcase, noticing that his hands were starting to shake. His body felt like it was wrapped in vines that were growing tighter and tighter, his vision blurring. He’d miss the look of their eyes when he’d made them laugh somehow. He’d miss the sound of their voices, calling his name when he’d done something neither of them approved of. He’d miss giving them as much of his love as they were willing to accept.

All three of the friends couldn’t be where they were at that moment. They needed to be somewhere else, even if only for a moment. Suddenly, all three of them knew where they needed to be. There was no texting, no communication. They just knew, as true friends do. There was a large, grassy field that the friends used to gather at, next to the beach. It was there that they had played their fantasy games as children, talked about sports and girls as young teens, studied and sometimes partied as young adults. It was their place, their bond with it almost as strong as their bond with each other.

Joonmyeon excused himself quietly from his house, telling his parents he needed to take a walk.

Yifan slid out of his house after telling his parents he needed the fresh air, it was true, he desperately needed to breathe.

Jongdae ran out of his front door, not answering back when his parents ask him where he’s going. There’s no time.

They all run, run as fast as they can, breeze nipping at their heels as if telling them to hurry, they were running out of time. As they run, they each see the other two also approaching, their hearts all suddenly feeling a tiny bit lighter. They weren’t running out of time, time was running out of them. It was oozing out of every pore, it was blowing in the breeze, it was bouncing between them as they stood in a circle, looking at each other, but saying nothing. They stay like this for what feels like months but could only be moments. They all reach out for each other, hands grasping each other tightly, unwilling to ever let go but knowing that they would have to. One day they would have to. When time started again. But for now, they could hold on as tight as they wanted.

As they simply stood there, they were content not moving a muscle and just being. For the longest time, the only motion around the three friends was the rustling of the tall grass surrounding them in the soft breeze. Suddenly, as it tends to do, rain began to fall. The three young men finally move, tilting their heads up to the darkened sky, watching as the rain comes down in sheets, the occasional flash of lightning illuminating the dark edges of the clouds. They all jump when the thunder clashes unexpectedly.

They laugh.

They laugh hard and they grin brightly, grins that were only for each other. They were no longer Joonmyeon, Yifan and Jongdae. They were Suho and Kris and Chen. They were making it rain. They were causing the first storm of the summer with their laughter and their happiness and their love. With their sadness, sorrow and worry. Suho made it rain, Chen brought the lightning and Kris’s roar as he flew among the clouds was the thunder.

Three boys return home drenched, freezing and exhausted, but happy. Any doubts they had harbored were gone. They would always be the rain, the lightning and the thunder together. No matter if it was only a drizzle. No matter if the thunder was far off and not accompanied by the others. No matter if lightning flashed without rain or thunder. Together they made up a beautiful storm, only together could something so frightening yet so gorgeous occur. They knew that no matter what happened in the future, the soundtrack of their last summer together would be their laughter as they ran and danced and chased each other in the rain like children. They’d always remember the colors that flashed in their eyes as they were illuminated by the lightning.

Joonmyeon left.

Yifan left.

Jondae left.

They didn’t need to contact each other. They knew it would be okay. They knew they’d be together again one day. Or they hoped.

Suho, Chen and Kris would be together forever though. In their hearts and minds and anytime there was a thunderstorm.

*~_~*

Jongdae is pulled out of his memories when the door to his dorm room opens and closes. Setting down his half empty but fully cold cup of tea, he turns and greets his roommate with a small smile that Chanyeol returns with a wide grin. Setting down his things and getting a bottle of water from the fridge, he comes and joins Jongdae on the couch, taking a quick sip. He can sense the wistful atmosphere and see the nostalgia in the other’s eyes.

“What were you thinking about?” he asks quietly. He and Jongdae were rather close which is why they had decided to be roommates a second year in a row. Chanyeol studied musical composition and Jongdae studied his psychology and they met somewhere in the middle.

“I was just watching the storm.” Jongdae mumbles thoughtfully, his eyes returning to the window as the rain finally begins to fall.

“It reminded me of three boys.” He continues, eyes on the storm but mind somewhere else. The taller man leans forward, elbows resting on his thighs as he listens, watching the storm as well.

“What happened to the three boys?” he asks when Jongdae doesn’t elaborate. Jongdae turns to him, a sad smile on his face and light tears in his eyes.

“They became a storm. One was lightning, one was thunder, and one was the rain. And like a storm, when it ends, all three go their separate ways.” Chanyeol looks away from the window and at Jongdae’s face. He throws an arm around the other man and pulls him close into his side.

“There are always storms. They will always be able to come back together, no matter whether they part or not. Storms are unexpected. You never know when one might hit.” Chanyeol isn’t sure if he’s made any sense, but the happy smile that eclipses the sad one on his roommate’s face inclines him to think that it made sense to him. Jongdae rests his head on Chanyeol’s shoulder and continues to watch the storm.

“You’re right. They’ll meet again. One day.”

There were once three boys who shared a bond. A bond too strong to break. A bond strong enough to stretch over time and space.

A/N: There is it. My 3084 word vomit. Procrastination has never been so beautiful imo. I actually really like this. Not so much the beginning, but the rest of it, definitely. I might consider writing a sequel where they do meet up again one day. We'll see.

Now I have no excuse not to write APC...