Busan Boys

(Love and Fall)

Count on your fingers the things that are truly important and needed 1.2.3.4.
In the end, the important things are few.

Bonds Kizuna – Antic Cafe -

The rain washes the leaves that have fallen, a path that crackles in red and orange and lonely brown, all blending on his way home, with golden beams bathing it all with the last of a late afternoon and he admires it all, the tones of a twilight that should paint the sky but that is under his feet and he smiles because with the threes matching it’s a lovely sight. With a last glance, but, he rushes forward, running away from the cold drops that are already soaking him, missing the weight of his camera on his hands, the chance to capture this beautiful moment, when the sun is scarlet and the clouds die in soft shades of pink and violet and baby blue.

Suddenly, the rain stops. He blinks, perplex, feeling warm for a second before the coldness of a late autumn catches him, embracing him with the wind that brushes his blond hair and leaves that fly, wet and lonely, beautifully. He feels at home and as if the universe had stopped expanding, but instead retracting over itself until fitting inside his heart. And then he looks up and an umbrella is covering his head and a pair of brown eyes are staring at him, a smile that lights them, soft and gentle.

“You will catch a cold, babe,” he says, and his voice sounds familiar, like the memory of a dream long forgotten, a song he used to sing.

“I’m not a baby and, surely, I’m not yours either” he replies back, not really in the mood to fight, so instead he rushes out of the umbrella and back under the rain, but this person catches up with him, not even running like he is, with his long and majestic legs, he steps as if a God was walking on concrete and, for a second, he stands quite there, fascinated. 

“Oh, but you look so cute,” he says, covering him again, sheltering him from the storm and the wind. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to make sure you go home safe and sound” and without further words, he puts the umbrella on his hand and disappears between the sea of people that are walking on the street. But he can see him, tall and slender, like an adverting, he shines, highlighting this boulevard where the rain falls over him with care, as if scared of bothering him.

Seungyoon walks home feeling his heart pumping faster than before, his cheeks flustered and his eyes seeking for him inside his own room.

After it, he feels unease, as if something was missing, and he finds himself grazing his hand, that hand he had touched, where his smell still lingers, subtle but stubbornly, still there and he is grateful for it, because it calms his nerves like nothing else could and reminds him of broken things.

He looks for him on his way home, that person who shimmers under the sun, with a smile that holds his nights but, like the clouds, he is and he isn’t there and he can’t take a proper glance of him, who changes and transforms but his fragrance remands the same and he searches for it, for that threat that has his flavour and that will guide back to him, back to these eyes that shine like diamonds and he wants for nothing but to see them again.

“You are freaking me out” a voice touches his ear, a wind that mewls just like him and he feels tickles on his body, warm and reassuring. He opens his eyes and he, real and wonderful, stand in front of him. It’s not a dream and he smells like summer and his hair is soft and dark. “Stop staring at me. I mean, I appreciate that you appreciate me, but it seems as if you want to kill me” he continues, smirking as if the world belonged to him, but sweet and adoringly and Seungyoon is enchanted by it. Shaking his head, cleaning this fog that surrounds his mind when he is around, he bows at him and gives his umbrella back.

“Thank you” he hisses, realizing the power that this stranger has over him and not wanting it to happen again. Not when he has healed all his wounds, them alone at night, quiet because his mother has enough troubles to bother her with his incompetence, with his own mistakes, with the damage others inflicted but that happened because he is weak.

“It wasn’t’ your fault,” he says, reading his mind as if he knew as if he was there to see, but he wasn’t, Seungyoon is sure, he wouldn’t forget someone like him, someone as captivating as he is. “I’m sorry for what you have to endure, but you are not alone. If you want, I’ll take care of you” and this is an offer he would like to take, but he is proud and able to defend himself, he doesn’t need him and he doesn’t want to own an alpha anything.

“It’s nothing of your business” he hisses again, bitter and sad and something else.

“Ok then, babe” he replies, not losing his smile, but when he turns around to leave, he grabs his arm.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be so rude” he murmurs quietly, not only because he is a nice person, but also because this boy doesn’t look like the rest; he gleams, bathed in gold under the colours of the autumn, and he is drawn to him inexplicably, his chest heavy, filled with “what if” that lingers on his mind and rooted in his soul. “I just… I don’t get along well with alphas” he confesses.

“It’s ok, really, I don’t mind. I’m glad to see that you are fine, though, be careful and keep my umbrella with you” he offers, pushing the object back to his hands, and his fingers are holding him and it’s cold but also gentle and sweet and Seungyoon doesn’t really want to let go of it. “Look, I know it’s odd, but I have the urge to take care of you. It might be your baby face and your pouting lips, I’m not sure, but, yes, that’s it” he rushes, words collapsing, overlapping, and Seungyoon laughs at it, at this alpha who doesn’t seem that confident, that full of himself like the rest, that breaths just the same way as him with eyes so beautiful and a face that catches glimpses of the sun.

“I can take care of myself” he dismisses. He does, he has survived to a few ruts now, all by himself, not needing any alpha to feel complete. And he doesn’t want to depend on him, even if he is beautiful and speaks gently and is offering a solution to lonely nights on a hell of fire that consumes his bones and flesh bathed on sweat, thorns made of ice that cut his skin from the deepest, a heart that scream names without faces and one of them might be him because he is familiar, like an old photo that has been forgotten, colours faded away.

“I didn’t mean it like that. I want to take care of you, is this hard to understand?” he asks, reassuring words that he won’t take advantage of him and his status or his vulnerability, the one Seungyoon will never let anyone know; that he is an omega and, sometimes, he needs something to feel complete, another person to cradle him back to sleep.

“You don’t even know me, why do you want to help me?” he grumbles, not wanting anything from him, from someone like him, even if his heart itches and he feels the urge to be held, he keeps these feelings caged and muted, killing them as he is killing himself neglecting the truth; that he likes him, that his voice lulls his dreams.

“Then, why don’t we change that?” he offers.

It takes him two months to break all his barriers, bring down the walls that keep his secrets in a cage, but Seunghoon is persistent, walking over his path, insistent until there are no other words left for him to say but “I love you”. And that is nothing but the truth because Lee Seunghoon has sneaked to his chest, writing his name there, making it his with acts and vanilla latte dates.

His hands on his feels perfect; fingers that fit in the gaps between, rubbing the back of his hand tenderly while walking down the streets, smiling at him, kissing his hair like butterflies landing there, and Seungyoon wonders why he has waited so long to accept his honest heart that beats at the rhythm of his own songs and that has scribed his name, sinking on this love that is bigger than the oceans and the sky over them, infinite and improbable, but real.

After seeing him, all he is, Seungyoon has only fallen deeper for him and, like a flower opening to the rain, he has exposed his true feelings, petals disclosing to show Seunghoon, the only person he has ever trust his real self; his nightmares, the sound of the strings he plays, the lyrics he has composed for him, the old pictures he has taken, the ones he will develop of his beatific smile bathed under the white of the night.

By now Seunghoon knows the colour of his dreams, how he feels, the way he keeps quiet and works hard for his mother, how she doesn’t know how he deals with all alone, or that he doesn’t need to do everything by himself because now he has him, and his mere presence makes everything better, erasing the fear and the loneliness, replacing it with warm eyes and soft kisses that melt away the winter.  He knows him better than anyone else, a year has passed and Seungyoon has shared his soul and his worries with him, how scared he is of been an omega, how he has suffered from it, too, but how proud he is now because he is by his side, holding his hand and smiling at him, telling the world that he is his kingdom and, like a shield, he protects him from all the harsh words and harsh eyes, from every single one that dares to say that he is useless, that he doesn’t worth his love. And all the loneliness has gone, now there is only laugh and happiness and a love that grows every time he sees him, tall and slim, legs that carry his world, and precious, waiting for him, his favourite drink and his favourite person out of the whole universe and far more than that; he is his all, his everything.

“What do you want for your birthday, babe?” he asks, but he already knows it, he has told him weeks ago; he wants him, only him, be his first one – and the last, he prays for. But Seunghoon is still reluctant, remembering Seungyoon’s horrible experience before, how others have taken advantage of the rut and his innocence, rapping him without any consent, and even if he agrees, even if he is totally sure that he wants it, he is still dubious, not wanting to force him, not touching him as he is dying to because these lips descending on his body, lingering, his tongue his skin, the thoughts make him rave, but he is not going to trace him, he is going to maintain him pure as the snow that is falling today over Busan.

Instead of what he wants he gives him something else, something that makes him smile all brightly, all excited, like a kid, with plump lips that feel so kissable and a joy that can’t be contained; with his new Lenka – not new, a voice says on his mind, second handed but beautiful, fitting perfectly on his hands – and he takes pictures of him, second after second, not missing a single one, the winter on his hair and the love that is always on his eyes, he captures it all.

“You are so beautiful, Seunghoon” he moans later that day, the pale skin under blankets that knows his name, forgetting for a moment formalities because now, right now, he is the only thing he can think, the only one he wants to be with. A click and then a flash breaks the stillness and Seungyoon kisses him immediately as if saying sorry, apologizing for the crime that he has committed. “I love you” he grumbles, mind blank and flying, he can’t hold his feelings anymore, not when he is biting him softly, kissing bare flesh that radiates under the light, as if painted by moonbeams, it’s precious in ways words can’t appreciate. “I love you, I love you” he repeats, groaning, like a mantra; the only lyrics he can sing right now, with him inside, caressing his sides and his profile, cuddling him even when it feels impossible, treating him as if made by glass. But he can’t complain because, like this, it’s so much better, like this he can feel the adoration and the love, the bound they have just strengthened. He is gentle even when he is rough, filling him, the stars getting closer and he screams his name so loud and he kisses him again, silencing him with parted mouth and swollen lips and Seungyoon only wants more. More kisses, more hands over his body, touching and searching, more of him; more of Lee Seunghoon, and he is so high on him, over the clouds, hanging on the sky.

He has never felt this way before, so wrapped around arms that feel like home, and he sleeps through the night, dreaming about him, whispering his name to the stars.

“Babe, are you ever going to introduce me to your mother?” he asks the same way he is, storming in and messing with all, but Seungyoon has never cared, never until now because he is not ready, because his mother doesn’t know. He has occulted the truth to her, that he is an omega than others have abused his and that he has dealt with it all by himself. He isn’t planning to lie to her, but to spare her the pain, the shame to have a son like him, that needs someone else to function, that every few months turns into a sea of fire due to the rut that kills him, that he has had to find ways to fight it, to fill himself, to go through the pain that grows inside his chest with a fire that never ends, the cold shiver and the world trembling on his feet turning all grey. “It’s ok, though, when you are ready,” he says gently, kissing his forehead, erasing with soft promises the memories he has stored and that clouds the gleam on his eyes.

 Seungyoon has met his parents long ago, after few months together; his sisters, and his nephew as well and they are all lovely people, even the annoying Chihuahua that bits his legs and barks when he is too close to Seunghoon. His two sisters are omega, his parents’ both beta and that explains why he is the way he is, why he treats him with so much care, why he fights against what he is to be better to him, not like the rest. Seunghoon doesn’t act superior and he isn’t condescending to him, he doesn’t patronize him or look at him with pity condensed on his eyes. He is his equal and, for this, he is thankful.

And he is ready now.

He is surprised because, of course, his mother knows it, she knew it from the start, since the first time he came home sinking in sweat and shivering like leaves on the wind. She smiles proudly at him and she hugs Seunghoon tight, welcoming him with open arms.

“I was waiting for you to tell me, but obviously I knew. You are my son, I carried you in me, I know you, and I know that you are happy now and I can’t ask for more, only for you to take care of my Seungyoon” and she is not crying and neither he is, but later, much later, Seunghoon would kiss the rain that is pouring from his eyes, just like the first time they met.

“There is nothing wrong with been an Omega,” he says softly, smoothing his feelings, how humiliated he is for how he has underestimated his own mother, how misbehaved he has been to her. “It’s the way you are born and I love you for it, but I love you more for who you are” and his voice is nothing but a song in his ear, steering the beats on his chest.

“They made me feel like I didn’t matter as if I was nothing” he confesses in between sobs, his hands on a fist and his head on his chest, wetting his best shirt.

“But you matter. You’re my everything, babe. Look at me” and so he does, his eyes shining but stubborn “I love you” and, for once, he is serious. “I love you so much, you don’t know. I’m crazy about you” he rambles, kissing his lips fully, turning sobs into little moans, tongues interlaced together, a fight that they know they will lose anyway “everything about you is perfect to me. I want you to be mine. Do you – Do you want that babe?” as usual, instead of only beat him, he asks, looking for his consent always.

“I’m yours, I have always been” he murmurs in his ear, biting there, kissing his neck, long and impossible and so delightful and Seunghoon tremble.

“You know what I mean” and his lips brush his hair that blows at the pace of his words.

“Yes, I want. I want to be yours and I want you to be mine”

The pain is nothing, he thinks that night, snuggling in his bed, head collapsing on his shoulders, teeth on his lips, red, and he swallows the itching feeling on his ankle, where the mark gleams in the dark, purple and beautiful. It beats like another heart, warm and lovely, and he caresses it despite the ache that spreads for there to all his body, shaking between blankets that smell the same as him, like summer and beach and Seunghoon. It burns, but it’s so sweet, so meaningful; he doesn’t care, not when he kisses it reverently, regretting the suffering that he is bringing to him.

“You are experimenting the same,” he says, grazing his own bruise behind his neck, pecking it, letting the cold of his lips linger there, calming the pain. There are colors that would never fade, a threat that bounds them together forever, a proof that their love is true. And the pain smooths when he kisses it again, brushing it gently, at it to calm it.

"Thank you" he whispers to the night, to him, to his heart.

"Now I belong to you" he smiles, his hands on this cheeks and his eyes piercing him beautifully, ripping his soul and his heart open for him to see.

" No, you belong to yourself. That's" and he points to this wound that will never heal "the proof that you are loved beyond words and worlds, infinite" and he kisses him just to crash his cheesiness, muttering his lips.

It's been a month after Seunghoon's graduation and he has begun to act strange, kissing less and worrying more. He waits until Seungyoon's classes are over and he is admitted into college, a portfolio with his bests shoots of him as his ticket there and he has never seen him smiling so proud to him, of him. 

It's morning, the sun washing his skin, his hair all black and soft under his hands and he smells like rain and thunders, tears that are falling from his precious eyes.

“You are never going to be alone” he has said, but he feels nothing but coldness, as if he has already gone, with sadness in his eyes “now I can leave”

“Where?” he asks, shaking with fear and a heart that beats for two.

“I got an offer. It’s so good, Seungyoon” his name sounds so alien that, for a moment, he isn’t sure if he is talking to him or someone else. “It’s in Seoul and you just have started college. I can’t ask you to leave with me. It's just... Seungyoon" he breathes his me again and he feels the pain, rooting already in his chest like venom, killing him, the meaning behind this past month awareness.

“Are you breaking up with me?” he can’t believe it. After three years together, after facing all those enemies, after all their shared memories “Are you leaving me?” he doesn’t want to cry but his chest stutters and he feels so little, so small, so the way he used to be before him, breakable and vulnerable and alone.

“Only if you agree. Babe… I’m so sorry. It means a lot to me, but you mean more. You know it. But this chance... I can use it to do something great, to change things" he explains, but Seungyoon already knows it, he wouldn’t ask if it weren't a reason, and he knows that if it’s important for.him he has to let go, he is generous enough and he owns him that, for him to chase his dreams, for him to be free, even if his heart belongs to his skin.

“I would never forgive me” tears fall down his face “to see you unhappy with me. Go, please.”

"It's not that I'm not happy with you, babe, it's that I want to do something meaningful, help you and help others. And I know I can there. I love you and I'm so thankful for being able to have you, for you to let me in."

Seunghoon lips on his eyes are the last thing he sees before his core dies, rotten and gone, sand that creates a desert where once lived all the flowers in the world.

It’s been five years but, when he sees him again, in a press conference, his old Lenka on his pocket and his professional one hanging , heavily in his neck, that his heart beats again, alive, blood that run free and warm, watering again that garden where his feelings has been caged, making them bloom once more; even if he wants to hate him, he knows he can’t.

He looks gorgeous in his expensive suit, and his hands aren't able to hold back but to take another picture of him, just out of costume. His eyes aren't smiling as they used before, but his voice is clear and he is doing what he does the best, running after his dreams. 

And the mark on his ankle itches again, the colors that have never faded shining, pounding with feelings he has long buried.