"thousands of feet up in the sky and only thinking of you, the soft shoulder-hollow that fits my cheek, the notched spine, always murmuring nonsense in your sleep into the night - longing and longing." 

October 10th, 2015

Doyoung's mother inherited a flower shop from her parents when they passed. At that flower shop, she met her first love who happened to be none other than Doyoung's father. Fast forward and thirty years later, they are a happy couple in their late 50s and -- at least according to the judgement of their neighbours -- the place hasn't changed even a bit for the past three decades. 

Some may deem it old-fashuoned, but Doyoung loves that the place never changes. He loves that every single time he returns to this place, regardless of how much time has passed since last, it leaves him with the exact same feeling in the pit of his stomach. 'Ah, so this is home' is what he would think as he breathes in the nostalgic scent of wet roses and lets his eyes skim over the antique furniture.

Even in this very moment, stuck in his brother's messy old pick-up truck, he can almost feel that place. Perhaps because they're so close, since there's only a couple of minutes to go from the train station to the neighbourhood he grew up in.

"Seriously," Gongmyung, his older brother, starts, "I only came to pick you up because I thought you had a lot to carry -- and the only thing you brought is a messenger bag? I don't think that's enough space for my present, unless it's like super tiny or something."

Doyoung turns to glare at his brother but his gaze softens immediately upon the sight of the dark circles under his round eyes. As annoying as he could be, Doyoung can't deny that he cares for him. A lot more than the older man deserves to be cared for. 

"I didn't bring you anything. Let's be honest, it's not as if you need anything besides video games."

"And food!" 

"And Mom feeds you just fine, doesn't she?" retorts Doyoung.

When there's no further response from his brother, he merely sighs and leans back in his seat. Of course there is no reply as usual. Gongmyung always loses against him in arguements; it's kind of been an unspoken fate they have shared since younghood. Not that Gongmyung would ever admit to being a born loser.

Lost in his thoughts, Doyoung doesn't even notice when his brother drives the car up the driveway. He only notices when Gongmyung reaches out a hand to pinch his cheek, shouting "we're here!" right beside his ear.

"Owww!" Doyoung shrieks.

"Oh, come on -- stop being such a baby! I didn't even pinch you that hard." 

"I hate to be the one to break this to you but isn't the one being pinched the one that's supposed to decide if it did or didn't indeed hurt? And how much it hurt? Because according to my knowledge, that's how it should be."

"Stop being so philosopical, you sound like a tumblr hipster."

"A what?" 

Gongmyung sighs. "Nevermind."

Doyoung clucks his tongue. He needs to remember to mention to his mother that his brother's obsession with the internet seems to be spiralling out of control. Or maybe, at this stage, it's probably too late for that already. It's not as if Gongmyung developed his couch potato habits within recent years, it's something he was born to be.

"Let's get going already anyway. Mom has barely slept these past days, too busy pondering over what she should cook for you when you come home."

"Typical mom," Doyoung mutters.

"Not so typical if you ask me," Gongmyung mumbles in return, "she never asks me what I want to eat these days."

Doyoung snorts. Of course she doesn't. She only feeds the people that put the food in the fridge.

"What was that?"

"What was what?" Doyoung asks, brows arched.

His nonchalance is met by a frown. "You just snorted at me."

"So?"

"That means you're implying that I don't deserve to eat or something. I'm a human, just as you are -- but because I don't go to some expensive Seoul uni, I don't deserve to eat? Is that what you're saying? Because I think that's what you're trying to say."

"It sounds like you've already made up your mind about what I'm trying to say, so I don't see any use in jumping to my defense," Doyoung pauses, "or do you disagree?"

"Of course I ing disagree! And so do you, you're always so snarky!" 

"Okay, I am not snarky just because I don't agree with you."

"Then why did you ing snort?"

"Because you never leave the house, never do anything useful -- should I go on?"

"Do go on!" Gongmyung provokes. "Because what you said only equals me being a loyal son and you being a snotty overachiever, so go on!" 

"God, I hate you."

Gongmyung nods. "Glad we feel the same way."

"Spare me the sarcasm. I've got enough of that going around college."

"There you go again, bragging about your damn school! What's so good about uni, anyway? It's completely overrated -- a couple of papers and intense lectures where some old man babbles nonsense is hardly a fair evaluation of your intelligence!"

"He's not an old man." 

Gongmyung pauses in the middle of his rant, "... pardon?"

"I said, he's not an old man." He should just shut his mouth. Why is he  mentioning this aloud and to Gongmyung the babblemouth of all people? "He's quite young, our professor. Quite handsome. Popular around campus, too."

As Gongmyung's confusion fades, it's replaced by a scowl. "And now you're bragging about your professor, too!"

At this point, the whole conversation is just one big joke. So Doyoung laughs. 

It doesn't take long for Gongmyung's grin to surface as well and loud laughter envelopes the old truck, though Doyoung's uncertain if either of them even have any idea what they're laughing at in the first place.

But Doyoung isn't too worried about the small details. Everything will be fine.

Or so, at the least, he hopes.

Gongmyung pushes the door to the store open. Memories flood straight back into Doyoung's mind as he threads inside; it takes a few seconds before he's able to see anything, because it completely slipped his mind that Gongmyung has always been a couple of centimeters taller than him, but when he does he remembers everything right off the bat.

From the stern tone his father used whenever Gongmyung and him got caught playing soccer around the expensive vases to the smile that graced his mother's soft features as she trimmed the drying leaves from the flower stems to his high school friends coming around to beg for a discounted last minute bouquet on Valentine's Day.

Doyoung smiles. Ah, he thinks, so this is home.

"MOM, WE'RE BACK!" Gongmyung shouts, loud enough to burst not only Doyoung's eardrums but also that of the neighbours. Gongmyung turns to grin at Doyoung. "She should come running down the stairs any second now that she knows you're here."

"I'd rather she didn't. She might trip and get hurt."

"You mean as you used to?" Gongmyung teases.

"Except for the getting injured part, yes." Doyoung smirks, eagerly grabbing for the chance to take a jab back at the elder. "Thanks for always being such a great cushion, hyung."

"Thanks for always being such a great cushion," Gongmyung mocks in his best "I don't have a comeback, so I'm just going to make funny voices"-voice. "But it's already been over a month since you were here last, hasn't it?"

"Yeah."

"That's a long time, for you, I mean. You used to come running here every weekend."

"Only because mom must be having such a headache, alone with two stubborn pigheads such as you and dad. And we're nearing the end of the year, so I'm busier than usual -- that's why I haven't been around lately."

"Did something interesting happen?"

Doyoung's eyes nervously wandered around the shop interior. "Nope."

"What about that boyfriend of yours?" Gongmyung asks, curious.

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"I know, I meant the... ex-boyfriend. That you used to sneak out at night with."

"He's an ex," Doyoung points out. "Whatever he and I had, it's over. Done. And you promised you'd keep it a secret, so keep your voice down. If our parents found out, what would they think? Mom would be distraught." 

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