Yixing chose the long way home but it was a journey worth the while.

And as he stares at the light that dimmed and flickered, as he blinks the tears that have surfaced, he can only wish it had been longer.

If it had been longer, he could've told him how much he loves him more. To whisper on his ear the saccharine prose that his tongue mastered, the words that were housed in his heart that deserves to be heard. Yixing thinks they often fall into deaf ears. A key that, over time, jagged its teeth, turned blunt that it was no longer the perfect fit. Somewhere along the way, he had lost Junmyeon to the thrill he seeks but Yixing can’t offer.

God, he wanted to see Junmyeon just once for the last time so he can squeeze another profession of love. One less regret. Yixing dislikes the bitter aftertaste they brought, loathes the begging for another chance it comes with. In his life, he had convinced himself that he only needed two virtues, to love with
his eyes only looking forward.

Nine years ago, when Junmyeon had asked him to run away with him from home, he knew of the consequences and contended with them eye to eye. He was in love and the bravado foolishness and naivety lends was a different kind. It's the concoction out for the kill. It's intoxicating, enticing,
addicting and he and Junmyeon let it run wild on their veins as they fled to the night with less than ten bills in their wallets that could last them a few days on the road. Less time when it was forcibly taken away, leaving only a few cents and bloody fists and busted lips.

The night wasn't kind. It was no mother to strung up kids daring the world to bow down to their feet. Instead, it housed the drunks, the liars and the thieves. It veiled the violence and rage and Junmyeon fit just right in and it did not come as a surprise to Yixing.

Junmyeon had always been tailed by an omen, one that screams danger, of anger that doesn't bleed into tears but best extinguished by his fist.

He loved the adrenaline. Junmyeon savoured every victory and celebrated every bruise like a trophy. Junmyeon loved the violence and Yixing stayed because he loves him.

The bruises, the blood, the iron that accompanies his kisses, he stayed despite all. It was with intertwined hands and an oath that he would never look back and hurdle between the what-if's
and why's that Yixing managed to stomach witnessing the chaos unfold into a hunt for a family that would fit right into the grotesque mould of Junmyeon's own underground group—later an organization.

Junmyeon found them, his mismatched brothers and sisters who he doesn't share anything in common with but the wrath that has them wrapped around its fingers.

They, too, were loved by Junmyeon. He showed it through his camaraderie. He lead them all from barely trying to survive another night to the path of the strong and the stubborn, with riches and power that carved them a place they can all call theirs.

Yixing doesn't fit in, he knew but he wasn't there for anyone else. He doesn't bear enough scars as they did. Resentment was a stranger to the frail heart he kept full with affection and
empathy, pouring it empty to Junmyeon's weathered soul in hopes that his difference can be compensated. He was there for Junmyeon and Junmyeon alone. Junmyeon was home.
He does not doubt if Junmyeon truly loves him back. It goes without saying. He seared his own confession on Yixing's skin with the brush of his lips or when he whispers back the sweetest litany after stealing Yixing's breath away. It shows when he caresses Yixing's hand with a gentleness only the younger had the luxury to experience, the gentleness that none of the people surrounding them would have associated to the rugged Junmyeon with bloodied knuckles and the saddest grin. That was Yixing's Junmyeon and no one else's.

Some nights though, when the space beside him was bare, with Junmyeon absent for a meeting, the silence he leaves behind demands thoughts to fill the air. Only then does Yixing cheats himself with a question that should have been enough to make him crumble to the ground. Will Junmyeon ever find his home? After all, this is the root of the lunacy Yixing indulged him with. It's a search for where he truly belongs, no matter how silly the cigarette-staunched endeavour was because the dysfunctional people tied with the same surname he shares a roof over his head before he festered with havoc certainly doesn't fit the criteria.

Mouths laced with poison, golden hands heavy with sins, they wrecked Junmyeon and made sure their own guilt be ingrained to the untainted.

Now, with Yixing's hands clutched to his chest, throbbing with pain, lying on his own pool of blood as he stares at the light that dimmed and flickered, he wonders if Junmyeon had done the same to him.

He lets out a shallow breath. No. That wasn't the case. Yixing wasn't a moth that was drawn to the flame. Junmyeon, as blinding as he was ablaze, wasn't the fire that consumed Yixing. Whether it was his blinded love, the foolishness from his teenage years that hasn't ended its streak and landed him to
his current predicament, it does not matter. Yixing was the price to pay for the dream that Junmyeon has been living.

Even in his laboured breath, Yixing can only think of the man that led him to his downfall. In his solitude, with the clock ticking away the last of his seconds not once did Yixing wished for Junmyeon to save him, he only wants to know if Junmyeon finally learned where to look for his prized el dorado, hoping it was Yixing all along.

There was a ruckus buzzing behind the steel doors. It sounded like shouts of anger and banging metal, Yixing doesn't have the energy to decipher what was happening outside his four-cornered death bed.

The paint was chipping away on the dented metal, rusty bars that have witnessed the passing of years in neglect. He wonders how many people had bled on the same spot and breathed their last exhale on where Yixing's body laid.

"Yixing!" Junmyeon screamed behind the closed doors. A deep thump resounded right after, the doors were clinging to its dilapidated hinges that had given away after a few kicks from the other side.
 

Yixing tried to watch, turning his cheek to the direction. His blood, thick and dark, clung to his cheek as he gazed at the light sipping through the seams of the battered metals. When Junmyeon's face emerged, angered veins and tears stained cheeks were what he was able to offer to his dying lover.
 

Wasn't your fault, Yixing had wanted to placate him as Junmyeon runs towards the injured man with anguish in his eyes. It wasn't his fault that Yixing had been foolish enough to be caught by a rival that only has hatred for Junmyeon's guts. A rival with a gun that he was not afraid to use to blow a hole on Yixing's chest. No. Those words were too laborious and he had enough time to contemplate on what he should prioritise.

'I love you,' he mouths instead as Junmyeon cried his heart out, watching him form words that his ailing throat had not permitted to be heard.

Joonmyeon wailed, knees trembling, unable to take in that his world is one breath away from crumbling before his eyes.

"I love you, too. I love you so much."

Ah, Yixing managed a small, almost imperceptible smile from his cracked lips. Remembering that dead night of July nine years ago when only his and Junmyeon's rambling were the only semblances of life, as he asked him to elope without a specific destination, everything else that happened after was fleeting— the "I love you's", limbs over limbs while staring at the ceiling, the brush of lips on bruised knuckles.

How was it that a decade spent with Junmyeon, the hot-headed and miserable juvenile turned into a man of power, Yixing can only recall sweet aches, the kind that thrums on your body to remind the bliss of a cold treat in a sweltering summer or the cup of warmth of hot chocolates in the winter.

And though Junmyeon's eyes were red with tears that were yet to wane, lips retching painful cries, Yixing only sees the man that he loves—an expensive prize paid by the last borrowed breath.

It was a long way bringing Junmyeon home and a journey Yixing can't go any farther.