“C’mon.”

“I already did.”

“Stop lying.”

“I’m not lying!”

“Don’t make me sit on you.”

Ryeowook frowned, suppressing a sigh. Why was Hyungsik so difficult? “Stop worrying. I have it under control. I’ll stop.” He picked up his chopsticks and plucked up a piece of kimchi. Popping it into his mouth, he chewed slowly, eyes locked with his friend’s.

“Just…did they really get to you?” Hyungsik asked softly.

No one else was home that day. Ryeowook’s mom was working the nightshift and being the good friend he was, Hyungsik offered to sleep over for the night. He knew for a fact that his friend hated being alone in an empty house. And after what had happened earlier that day, he couldn’t imagine leaving Ryeowook’s side.

“No, not really,” he responded honestly, “…I let myself get to me. I keep thinking that you don’t like me as I am. I know you keep saying you do, but the words they told me make sense. How can someone like you actually like me – even as a friend?” Ryeowook took a steadying breath, eyes focused on the bowl of rice before him. “I can’t believe it. I want to be good enough for you so I can tell you how I feel.” His gaze lifted to meet Hyungsik’s somber expression. “I didn’t want you to tell me you love me just because you found me in that state.”

Ryeowook had to remind himself then that he was only fourteen. It was crazy of him to be speaking so highly. However, despite all of that, he wanted to get across those feelings. They weren’t just children. They were children with twelve years of history. That was more than most married couples would ever be able to say.

“I didn’t just say it because of that,” Hyungsik argued softly, “…I’ve wanted to tell you since we were eight and you piggy backed me home from the nearby park.” His face grew slightly pink, but he had become determined to get these feelings across. Holding them in had obviously resulted in something horrible. Hyungsik took one of Ryeowook’s hands, while urging him to continue eating as they talked.

Hyungsik made a note of how soft that hand felt in his, and then made a note of how absolutely elegant they were. A pianist’s fingers were everything, right? He knew that Ryeowook’s dream was to be a composer and travel the world, playing his music. If possible, he wanted to be a part of that. Since they were tiny, he wanted to stay with the older boy. Forever and ever they could continue on their journey together. That’s how it was meant to be. Or so Hyungsik wished.

“When we were little,” he began, “you wouldn’t try to protect me. Instead, you would want to stand beside me. When bullies came by, we would fight them together. When people came to steal our swings, we would make them go away together. But that day, just one time, you let me protect you because you had just been yelled at by your umma. I didn’t mind fighting, because I knew you were a cry baby and you were really hurt by that little incident.”

Hyungsik smiled to himself, eyes warm as he seemed to fall into the fond memory, “But in the end, you pushed aside your own feelings and picked me up. You carried me all the way back to our houses and I just couldn’t believe I had a friend as amazing as you. I didn’t know I was in love with you. What I did know what that I wanted to live with you forever.” He exhaled, chuckling softly, not noticing the look of astonishment and blankness on Ryeowook’s face.

“I wanted you to be next to me when I slept and I wanted you to be next to me whenever we came in contact with dangerous people. I wanted you to cook me food and play games with me. I wanted you to hold my hand when I cried, and play the piano for me whenever I was feeling lonely. I just wanted you all around, all the time.” Hyungsik finally looked up at Ryeowook, only to end up blushing and averting his gaze. “Sorry, I guess I got carried away.”

Ryeowook shook his head once, twice, thrice. “No…no…that’s not it,” he whispered, not realizing that he had finished his dinner. Setting the bowl and chopsticks aside, he angled his body so he could be directly facing Hyungsik. “I…I’m just surprised. I never thought that I would hear you say any of that,” he mumbled, speaking without really processing what he was saying. “…do you think we’re being…immature, though? We’re not even in high school. I can barely reach the stove. My umma still does my laundry.”

“It doesn’t matter because as long as we’re together, I don’t care how old I am.” Hyungsik scooted closer, gazing at Ryeowook quietly.

“A-ah…,” he muttered, heat creeping up his neck.

Nothing else was said that night though. They sat at the dining table for a long time, simply holding hands. Ryeowook didn’t even know if he was thinking of anything rational. All he knew was that he and his best friend were apparently head over heels for one another. And yet, it felt like there was something off.

He would soon deduce that it was discomfort with the world around them. People would object. They would call them names. No one would truly approve.

Yet Ryeowook knew that neither of them wanted to back down. Twelve years…Twelve years of falling in love had taken its toll. Neither of them was prepared to throw all of that away.

The rest of the night passed with Hyungsik watching television, or doing homework, or otherwise toying with different things in the house. A large array of thick blankets and pillows had formed a makeshift sleeping area in the living room for the both of them. Ryeowook lined the comfy, fluffy fort of sorts with stuffed animals and couch cushions. Two knit blankets were folded at the foot of their somewhat square-shaped sleeping arrangement.

And still, nothing was said.

Ryeowook stepped out of the bathroom after drying his hair, only to find that Hyungsik had been waiting outside the door. Their eyes met for a brief moment, and Ryeowook smiled in pleasant surprise. Offering his hand, he took Hyungsik’s, and they headed slowly down the stairs back to their bedding.

Once upon the fluffiness, Ryeowook pulled the blankets over them and the television. A sappy romantic drama was playing. Hyungsik didn’t complain, so they kept it on without really paying much attention to it.

Instead, they held hands tightly, refusing to let go for even a moment. Ryeowook leaned his head on Hyungsik’s shoulder, eyes lulling closed. The blanket was pulled over the both of them by a half-conscious Hyungsik. They turned off the television and pressed close together, their fingers lacing naturally as they drifted to sleep.