A/N: Italics and greyish text are flashbacks.

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They say age is but a number.

 

Don’t think too much of it and don’t let it get to you, because at the end of the day it’s a number that doesn’t say anything.

 

It doesn’t prove anything.

 

But to Junhong, age has never been just a number.

 

They told him to lift his head, follow what’s right and most importantly to act his age.

 

But he was always either too young or too old.

 

He was too old to cry. Apparently the longer he lived the more he was supposed to be able to handle the pain.

 

‘ it up, only babies cry.’

 

He was too young to know what he wanted, his eyes had yet seen enough of anything.

 

‘What do you know, you’re just a kid.’

 

He was too old to be making silly mistakes; those were only for the ignorant ones.

 

‘You should have known better.’

 

He was too young to know of love and therefore too young to be in love.

 

‘You’re confused, that’s all.’

 

They say age is but a number.

 

But despite being just numbers, it seemed to be the only thing they would ever see him as.

 

Why else would he need more time? Why else would his heart need to grow when it was already grand enough to hold someone…

 

To Junhong, age was a distance.

 

He would always have to walk behind the frame of the one person he wanted as his equal. He would always have to follow the footprints before him, left like imprints in the snow.

 

He wasn’t old enough to run any faster, to catch up and hold onto those beautiful hands. Moreover, he wasn’t young enough to pretend his toes didn’t turn blue, numb and weary in the cold.

 

Age was a distance.

 

And 6 years was the kind of distance too long to ever close.

 

******

 

It’s been awhile.

 

Three years to be more exact since he stepped through these doors and the first thing that hit him was the familiar sound of the bell. Or rather a short melody announcing his arrival just like it had many times before. The tune had stayed the same and Junhong found how it pleased him.

 

It was after opening hours but the lights were still on. He had expected them to be. Admittedly, he knew the owner too well and old habits die hard they said. What remained the same had pleased him, made him feel comfortable to step back where fond memories lay. While on the other hand, the things that changed made him all too conscious of the time that had passed. It was new, that’s all. The walls were no longer in some dark shade of grey instead the panes were covered in white. The old couch he used to sprawl on every day after school was gone. But then again it had been borderline to falling apart even then, crumbling under his long frame. The new one looked good though, dark, almost black with a hint of blue, fitting into the background like it should.

 

It was nice, Junhong thought.

 

The reception desk to the left of the entrance looked to be in some expensive wood, a clear step-up from the previous DIY projects. But he couldn’t hold it against them. The business was new then, they barely had a footing, a spot on the map. The wall behind the desk however, now told otherwise. It was adorned with framed newspaper clips, raving reviews and rewards alike, hung with purpose and almost had an artistic feel to them. One who knew how it was before could tell that they had come a long way.

 

Junhong swelled with pride.

 

Chic and modern.

 

And very different.

 

He smiled to himself. The wave of emotions washing over him was similar to those he felt the very first time he stepped into the place. But it didn’t take long before he could feel the heavy pounding behind his chest as well as the nerves and the doubt kicking in.

 

And that feeling…the one he treasured and repulsed at the same time.

 

 It all gradually came back to him.

 

******

 

‘They met on a rainy day. When the world turned suffocating and Junhong wanted nothing more than to run away. He took shelter under an unexpected place and watched as the raindrops landed before the toes of his shoes.

 

“This rain.” Kind eyes and a faint smile, borderline of shy had appeared out of nowhere. “It’s pretty isn’t it?”

 

Junhong drew his feet back just when the next waterfall started. The rain clatter on the roof above them was somewhat comforting so Junhong couldn’t help but agree. “Yeah it is.” But then being him, he couldn’t help but ask: “But what good does pretty make?

 

The other shrugged, “To be looked at and to be missed?”

 

Junhong turned to the other man. “Or to be judged and forgotten.”

 

He watched the other and saw the small tug at the corners of his lips. Like he was amused. Like he actually thought Junhong made sense and it made the younger turn away from piercing eyes.

 

The silence that followed unnerved him, stifling even in open air.

 

“I ran away,” Junhong said in the end and kicked the ground.

 

He sneaked a glance at the other, catching the moment of a risen brow and the unspoken question.

 

“I ran away from everyone because I don’t like any of them.” He winced at his own words, at how they made him sound like some brat in his teenage angst and were nowhere near the words in his head. But it’s not like he could take them back. Why would he anyway? “And I don’t think I want to be talking to you anymore.” In case he would start to pour his heart out to a stranger. “I don’t really know you, so… no offence,” he added in afterthought.

 

The older tilted his head to the side, “I’m also’ everyone’…you’re not running from me.” A statement followed by a question mark in parentheses as if to ask ‘why?’.

 

Junhong took in the sight of the other, his eyes travelling down the stranger’s form to finally end looking straight into dark eyes.

 

“I’m not scared of you”

 

The older laughed, he laughed and It seemed to only have taken a fraction of Junhong’s life for him to realize that something in that hearty rumble was drawing him in. It roared against the soft tunes of the rain, perhaps too heavy or raw even… and just so damn earnest.

 

Junhong fell in love on a rainy day.

 

******

 

“I see business is going well for you.” Junhong twirled on his toes with surprising grace and faced the person who had quietly popped up on the other side of the studio. He pointed with his thumb over his shoulders at the photos of clients and their finished works. Some in colours, others in tones of grey and some didn’t have more than a meaningful quote in the cleanest calligraphy Junhong had ever seen. “I mean, look at what you guys have done to the place.” His arms spread out and waved around to gesture at everything. “Clearly pulling in the big bucks now.” He grinned and winked at the other before he could feel the shot of adrenaline, the tiny spark of courage that made him come back in first place starting to fade.

 

He met those eyes.

 

How many times hadn’t he stared into those undistinguishable shade of brown before? A pair of dark and piercing eyes that seemed to have seen the world.

 

Eyes that had six years of a head start and Junhong could only blink and desperately try to catch up.

 

But he’s not 17 anymore.

 

He was no longer the kid whose limbs grew too long and too fast for anyone to comprehend. He was no longer the one to always feel his pale complexion transform to rose-tinted skin, blushing in innocence.

 

Three years has gone and there he was, a little bit taller and a little bit older.

 

And for what it seemed, still a little bit of a goner.

 

Arms crossed over a broad and firm chest, drawing Junhong’s to the mysterious lines and swirls peeking through the neckline of a black t-shirt. They covered more than Junhong remembered, now running down both arms on their way to mark full on sleeves. “We do our best.”

 

Junhong shivered ever so slightly, embracing the deep rumble he had never been able to forget.

 

He couldn’t help but to grin widely at how the the other’s rough demeanour of piercing gaze and ink covered skin could easily work up the feeling of intimidation in anyone. Junhong knew better though. Perhaps it was because he had looked at this person from what would be considered the wrong perspective from the start. A different perspective. If you tore down the layers of that voice and tone to its finest you would get nothing but raw genuineness. An open display of his instinct to care about everyone and everything.

 

That’s Yongguk, Bang Yongguk.

 

“You look good, hyung.”

 

Yongguk scratched the back of his neck, his eyes unwavering but the swallow down his neck didn’t go unnoticed and Junhong realized then that the older was uncomfortable. Nervous even.

 

And for some reason, a spark of hope settled behind his chest.

 

“Junhong-ah,” the other said somewhat tiredly. “Why are you here?”

 

******

“Why are you still here?”

 

Junhong swirled one round on his roller stool and stopped once he faced the entrance. “Hyung,” he grinned, watching Yongguk walk over to the drafting table, three half-finished sketches in his hands. “You ask me that question an awful lot.”

 

Yongguk cast a brief smile over his shoulder at Junhong. The younger caught it and started to pull his chair closer. He was happy, always have been, to watch Yongguk work. In silence, he took in the sight of long fingers making swift across half-finished figures. He has always been amazed at how how crazily and effortlessly the elder could come up with ideas perfect for every client, all so breath-taking once adorned on their skin.

 

 “I like tattoos.” Junhong said, breaking the silence as he drew his feet up and let his chair spin two circles before he set them down again. “It’s like soul connecting somehow” He spun another round. “A little cliché maybe, but I think sometimes that’s what people need. Something to ground them, something to remind them of the things that shaped their soul.”

 

Yongguk his seat after gently putting the pencil down. Junhong’s eyes followed as it rolled across the surface only to stop once it hit the edge of the table. He looked up and smiled when he saw Yongguk looking at him, soft, curious and slightly amused.

 

“People tend to forget, you know,” he continued. “Or maybe they just don’t see those things that makes you … you.” He shrugged to himself before continuing, “And when they don’t see you, you tend to forget as well.”

 

Yongguk didn’t say anything and Junhong didn’t expect him to, because that simply wasn’t who the other was.

 

Yongguk was smiling though and Junhong liked the way Yongguk smiled more than anything. “What about me?” the words came out so soft Junhong barely registered them, being too lost in pretty lips as he was.

 

He leaned forward, his tall frame crouching on the chair. “What about you?” he tilted his head in question.

 

“What have I missed about you?”

 

How easy it was to be rendered speechless by a question, Junhong thought. Especially those that made one’s chest tighten and cheeks warm. Those so simple yet masked the chance for you to pour your heart out.

 

His heart though, got stuck somewhere in his throat. Sometimes when you have so much to say, the words would start and stay at nothing because you simply don’t know where to start. “You’re different” was all he could bring forward, though it came out more like a whisper.

 

Yongguk raised his eyebrow at that. “I’m different?” He said, somewhat unbelieving and amused at the same time. “How?”

 

“You see everything and nothing at the same time.” Junhong’s lips closed in a brittle smile. ”It all depends on what you choose to see.” He knew they were falling into a dangerous territory when Yongguk’s expression changed. Fond and gentle lines turned rigid due to discomfort.

 

“You look at me and you choose to see what you think is safe.”

 

It was perhaps a sign for him to back down. A part of him did want to concede but another part of him, a bigger part, wanted to go from tiptoeing on the borders to wandering in the dangerous zone. His legs stretched out to pull both himself and the chair closer to the other. He worked in small steps and stopped only when they were merely inches apart. “Why am I here you ask…”

 

He looked into Yongguk’s dark orbs, hoping to see the things he knew words would never tell him.  “You know why I’m here.”

 

******

 

“Why I’m here?” Junhong chuckled. “I used to wonder why you kept asking me that. I mean, I returned every day without fail and you always asked me why.”

 

It was obvious. Has always been. He became so blatantly obvious in his wide-eyed adoration that he figured that was the reason they never really kicked him out.

 

He figured he had somehow gone to become their daily source of enlightenment. That maybe they talked about him during the lunch breaks, or laugh at him just to pick things up when small talk seemed to run dry.

 

But it was fine. Because he couldn’t help himself, back then, all he seemed to want was to grow a little bit closer.

 

So he had returned everyday despite being too young to be there. To the point where he knew everyone inside these walls and they all knew him. He knew them as the figures he couldn’t help but find fascinating while they knew him as the kid who came in everyday after school hours, as the kid who occupied the only sofa in the hall and flipped through the portfolio folders over and over until there was no doubt he could tell whose art was who’s by the smallest details.

 

“Because I’m ready to have this talk.” He looked Yongguk in the eyes, “I thought, maybe we’re both ready.” The thumping beside his ears was too loud, he barely heard a word he said but he forced them out anyways. In case his courage would never pick up again. “So that I can, you know, find closure and move on…instead of missing you like crazy.”

 

Yongguk looked away at the last bit. Black curly hair fell over his eyes, in hiding, Junhong thought. It was a sign he recognized too well as his hyung only shared when he felt ready to. For Yongguk, to share pieces of himself required some other kind of bravery Junhong seemingly could understand.

 

Therefore, even though Junhong felt the need to hear answers, he wouldn’t push for them. He wouldn’t ask the elder to fight battles he wasn’t ready for.  Because at the end of the day, they didn’t owe each other anything.

 

So he stood there, in a place so familiar and unfamiliar at the same time and simply waited. He waited for a sign that he had come back at the right time.

                                             

“Okay.” Yongguk closed his eyes briefly, his hand swept thought unruly locks and pushed it to the side. The gaze underneath them was clear and a hint of a smile tip-toed round the corners of the elder’s lips as he looked at Junhong. “Let’s talk.”

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Thank you for reading!

It's been so long since I wrote anything and this story started about 4 years ago I think.

I found it my folder and though I should give it a try to finish it.

 

Love,

Ivy