Sunglow yellow scarf rippled on the merciless wind pounding against his billowing chest and grimaced face as Joonmyeon ran so fast his legs threatened to give out, the strain so burdensome and potent it made his muscles burn as if wildfire at his calves and up his thighs. It was not an amiable feeling, he dared notice. Rather, it bordered on extreme physical pain that would make any man fall to his knees and wail in hurt that was as strong as the grip of shark’s jaws. Yet, what kept him going despite the adamant, searing pain in his limbs, his valiant self unhindered by such mere sensation, was the unrelenting, unbridled and virile hope that flamed in his soul like a whimsical vortex – emotion so intense and powerful it was the strongest potion of all, filling his anemic, bloodless body with such vigor he knew of naught better.

His scarf akin to a flag billowed on the vehement waves of wind carrying him, layer after a layer of cloth carelessly swaying behind his back as he ran with an even faster pace, aiming to catch up with the little runaway that managed to slip before he was aware of the truth. Storming down his street, he abruptly crossed the road, his feet stomping hard over the concrete ground with him caring less whether or not a car was approaching his direction and continued down, turning left at the first crossroad with intention of catching Jongdae before he could enter the bus. With dread he watched the aforementioned vehicle approach, slowing down as it neared the station with several people waiting already, not falling unnoticed to him how an attenuate willowy form clad in black, heavy coat with blaringly white headphones deafening his ears swiftly walked across the road, Jongdae's head hung low as his eyes were cast towards the bleary ground, unaware of the man running desperately after him.

-"Jongdae!" He effortlessly cried out, the name akin to most succulent of fruits rolling from his tongue as if it were in his nature to voice it out. Despite the strain crushing down at his swelling chest, it came out powerful, an echo so majestic he wondered where that newfound strength came from, his voice much unlike the delicate, likable tone it usually possessed. It was vigorous, demanding and almost animalistic in its pure essence, a strenuous cry that could pierce through any wall – a gush, river so violent and trashing it could break any obstacle set. Jongdae halted, his form frozen by the icy tendrils encasing his limbs that forbade him from moving, eyes aimlessly looking for the source of the shrill sound that breached the sound barriers of his headphones, their clarity marred by nonplussed sight suddenly surfacing in his piercing, dark orbs.

Running towards him was a Joonmyeon of gaunt, strained face, his bloodless skin such a painful contrast to the strikingly bold, ferocious red of his coat, the color so vivid, so full of life it made his pitiful appearance the least bit more opulent. The bus slowly started, going away and before he could even register what was happening, the little air he had in his lungs was forcefully pushed out as strong, yet attenuate body crashed mercilessly against his own, hungrily latching for his narrow shoulders and forcing him to press close, his headphones pushed off his head to slump against his back as Joonmyeon’s fingers etched painfully hard into the cloth of his coat, forcefully keeping Jongdae in his grasp.

-“Idiot!” He cried out, tightening his hold. “You should have told me. You should have said it. All along, all along to be quiet about it… I… I would’ve…”

Jongdae’s face turned mortally cold as his eyes, otherwise dead looking, slowly welled up in tears, noticing how tenderly Joonmyeon’s fingers came up to caress his cold cheeks, cradling his face with a touch so cherishing that it felt surreal, the very heat radiating off those fingertips.

-“I love you Kim Jongdae. I love you.”

Four hours, thirty two minutes and seventeen seconds before the confession:

Even though it was just an ordinary day, nothing about it peculiar in any sense, what made it special, and just for that once was that it was Monday, a yet another day he was destined to spend at Joonmyeon’s home watching movies. Recently as he spent more and more time there, he was a constant guest counted for dinner every afternoon, it becoming an incessant occurrence for Jongdae to eat and even sleep at other’s place. Known to both of them they had scarce time together left, they tried to spend as much of it together as they could. They’d play video games, watch all the movies Jongdae always wanted, but never had the chance to, spend much time reading comics or just lazing around, and while seemingly unproductive, the two of them solely wanted to create memories they could hold onto through every night of solitude that awaited.

He’d allow Jongdae to press close and sleep curled next to him, enjoying the little intimacy they shared like that, feeling right whenever those lanky limbs tangled around his own into an intertwined web of legs and arms, Jongdae unaware of what he did to other’s poor, straining heart that thumped wildly in the encasing ivory confinement of ribs. Unlike him, Joonmyeon wasn’t able to fall asleep like that, not even once. His heart would reach the rate twice the normal and he would become too excited to find some rest. He would spend countless hours taking in the redolent scent of men’s cologne and vanilla shampoo that wafted over other’s heated skin, getting lost in the abstract madness of emotions suddenly overwhelming him like a wave, wave so strong and majestic, making his soul swivel round and round the colossal creature his love was.

Sometimes he would find himself caressing that ivory skin, ghostly tracing his fingers over the heated surface of his cheeks while tenderly and delicately brushing the stray hairs away, once finding himself caught by those piercing eyes when they fluttered open for the fleetest of moments before closing again, Jongdae’s face suddenly alit in mirth as it pressed closer to the fingers that still whispered ghostly over his skin.

Joonmyeon could have sworn his heart stopped beating that very second.

The other only incoherently mumbled in his sleep, seemingly unaware of other's presence and only scooted closer to the amiable and welcoming source of warmth Joonmyeon proved to be, trying to wrap himself around him. In instances like those Joonmyeon found his own feelings confusing. To like such strange nature of behavior and friendship...he was afraid to admit he enjoyed it. It scared him, the fact that he sought such intimacy with the other. And in every form imaginable. 

-"Chocolate fudge versus chocolate pudding."

-"Are you joking?"

-"Bloody serious."

-"Neither then."

Joonmyeon's head shot up curiously from his pillow, his mellow, glassy eyes meeting other's attenuate form sprawled lazily over his chair, turning round and round slowly, quiet, almost incoherent squeaking of plastic cutting the stale silence in half.

-"It's like asking me which parent I like more."

-"Except these are desserts." Irritably cut in Joonmyeon, his head slamming onto the lush comfort of his pillow again. "But, I was serious. Which one do you prefer, I want to know?"

-"Why?"

-"Because." And naught more was given to explain the reason behind such hindrance Joonmyeon became when practically interrogating the other, his plump lips sealed shut with eager want to keep his intentions undiscovered by the other, lest he ruin his planned surprise.

-"Now I want to know." Jongdae animatedly spoke, the words uttered by his pouting lips so elfish, so ominous Joonmyeon dared not to think of malicious deeds other would do to him while seeking the answer. A soft chuckle, painfully innocent in nature followed Jongdae’s agile gait to the bed, the mattress shifting to the side under the influence of an added weight when he scooted closer to Joonmyeon, instantly freezing as a deep void of other’s eyes caught him, shackled him in chains so heavy he found himself a terrified prey to the impeccable, ethereal gaze grazing his soft features incessantly, his quivering breath caught still in his chest. Stilling his heart, he sat on the edge of the bed, staring down at the picturesque sight of his unrequited love breathing slowly, chest rising and falling with every billowing motion made, the snowlike dress shirt of his school uniform daringly parting, first button unwittingly pushed from the hole and revealing the smooth plane of other’s neck and bold collarbones, sight so carnal and svelte, contrasting the untainted al appearance of his face, unmarred by the desire for touch.

Today Kim Joonmyeon, today I, Kim Jongdae, will no longer be a coward. Today I will tell you of the story of my love, of the way you made me live and die with every shaky breath of yours, the way I would crumble to naught whenever your lips uttered my name, wishing they were laced with same passion and yearning mine were. I hope you will understand, for I am scared of being alone, so scared I cannot find a word that could picture you the dread fear I feel even now overwhelming me, pushing me down deeper and deeper beneath the surface, the scarce light becoming close to nonexistent.

Despite my love, I wish you won’t turn your back on me because there is so much I love about you, so many details you are unaware of that I have noticed and cherished that you would kill my heart by doing so. I do not care anymore whether you feel even a pint of such love for me, I have long said goodbye to that brittle hope, for I very well understand this fear of love that is so strange and unusual, but do not abandon me. I beg of you. Because I need you, need you more than air itself. You are my blood, boiling, fierce blood that makes me live. You are my water and food, for when I am with you, I need naught else, just your voice trailing off in silence animatedly talking with me, telling of stories long forgotten you have read in one of your numerous books.

You Kim Joonmyeon, can you even fathom how much I depend on you? How much I need you? When I am by your side, there is no longer Kim Jongdae, just your shadow that secretly yearns for you, that looks at your back, outstretching its blackened hand in hopes of tugging at your sleeve, hungry for that sumptuous gaze of yours so precious, so endearing.

Kim Joonmyeon, today I will tell you how much I love you.

-“I like dark chocolate. It’s bittersweet. Therefore, neither pudding nor fudge, I like sweet things that are bitter at the same time.”
 

Other’s face lit up in amusement, finding it unusual and almost shocking to find something like that out all of a sudden, always guided by firm belief that Jongdae wordlessly adored sweet desserts, the sweeter, the better.

He remembered their cryptic escapades to the cake shop countless times, cake after a cake adorned with whipped cream, fruit, chocolate cream of countless other decorations only to reveal tooth-hurting sweet filling beneath the layer of dark colored dough that would make Jongdae pleasantly hum in appreciation and Joonmyeon wince, the saccharine taste just a bit too much for him.

-“Yet you ate all of the pudding I had stored in my fridge.” Joonmyeon tsked, closing his eyes and shaking his head as much as it was possible in his position, deceptively trying to berate the other.

-“I’m not going to say no if you have it. That would be just outright rude, to deny the generosity of the host.” Jongdae said while pouting his thin lips, feigning innocence that he could never be able to show, for his devilish eyes said all but that. “But enough about that. Why do you want to know which one I prefer more?”
 

Joonmyeon lifted his head in interest, eyes grazing other’s lithe form as his lips pulled up into a smile, slightly bashful in appearance as he scooted closer to the opposite edge, making more room for Jongdae to sit on, seeing other wordlessly asking just for that. Yet unrelenting in his silence, he spoke of no answer. He just smiled wistfully, eyes turning glazed for the fleetest of seconds before he closed them, an elfish sight suddenly etched on his face. It promised of no answer.

Jongdae let out a silent wail, crawling closer to other’s sprawled form on the bed, eyes saying all but innocence.

-“You will tell me.” The tone of his voice was demanding, exuding impeccable relentlessness with every syllable drenched in perseverance, no longer just sheer amusement, but true, eager want for truth. And his malevolent thoughts knew exactly how to make the other spit the truth out.

 
Enraptured by the stern sight grazing Jongdae’s eyes, Joonmyeon failed to notice a pair of hands running closer and closer to his sides until they touched his ribs, other’s fingertips aching from the heat his burning body exuded. In an agile movement they started to tickle him, a shrill cry of surprise breaking off the walls as another gush of giggles and laughs followed, Joonmyeon’s body twitching and squirming on the mattress as he tried his best to move away from his attacker that continued to torture him, unhindered by the begging cries for help elicited.

If it weren’t for the fact that they became more and more entangled with every passing moment, Jongdae wouldn’t have relented, drawing back from the gasping, straining body beneath him that lay in an awkward position, forced so by his ministrations. Joonmyeon’s face showed all but amusement, his ribs and chest aching from all the trashing of his body and unwanted hits of other’s elbows that, albeit happened by accident, were frowned upon.
-“Fine. Fine.” Joonmyeon spat out, obvious grudge held in his voice as he clutched to his sides, shooting sardonic glares in other’s direction as he scrambled to his feet, no joy or delight lacing his voice.

-“I’m making a list of things you like. Happy now?” The scrutinizing gaze in his eyes, firm and stern, showed how little amusement he found in being tickled, something that dissipated as soon as he saw genuine adoration welling in other’s deep gaze, so sumptuous and unsullied by greed. It was pure, so pure and radiating with delight he could not utter the word that could describe them.

-“Really?” The voice that had quivered like reed on wind suddenly turned complacent, far from previous bashfulness that now but dwindled, bashfulness that previously hadn’t appeared deceptive to Joonmyeon’s ears. The dulcet, harmonious tone of his eloquent words drenched in saccharine, golden honey and coated with crystal sugar swiveled around him, that tender whisper titillating his thoughts and enrapturing him, leaving him enthralled at the sheer sensation of that rich, gracious voice. Joonmyeon caught the fleetest of glances of other’s eyes, them flaunting in his gloating, exuding a sight of felicity surfacing in his sublime irises, shrewdly observing him. Unsullied, unrelenting and unbridled, they stared at him valiantly, deluging him in a sudden swarm of fear he had not felt before, not like that. He felt like a deer caught in lovelights, suddenly enraptured by the epiphany that Kim Jongdae was, his eyes, so alive, so fiery, elusive in their very essence incessantly watching his every move, his every intake of breath and light exhale, his very self caught caged by the younger.

He regretted complying with other’s desire for truth. Completely.

He laid there in penumbra nimbly flickering over their lithe forms, eyes averted to every and single corner of his room as to avoid meeting Jongdae, yet when that pale face of expressed cheekbones Joonmyeon passionately hated so much, for they were too perfect to be described with mere words, suddenly appeared in front of him, he stilled a gasp at the shock of sudden propinquity, slightly coming to awareness of other’s smug grin decorating his face.

-“Really?” Question posed again received an answer this time, curt and slightly crude, Joonmyeon’s face grimacing slightly as he tried worming his way away from other’s body invading his personal space by far too much.

-“Yes, yes, really!” He couldn’t find the appropriate words, something that was more eloquent than ‘get the hell away from me’, so he retorted to simply pushing the other away, finding great difficulties in moving the sinewy body that so firmly decided to stay still in place until an explanation arrives, in the end stifling his valiance and letting Jongdae have his way.

-“Why?” He heard the other elfishly drawl those words out, frowning at the sudden urge to punch the boy in his flawless face. Sometimes, just sometimes, he felt as embarrassed as he did right then, embarrassed enough to feel anger welling up inside him at every daring prying into the topic that was the source of his shame. Pursing his lips in a fine tight line, he childishly refused to answer, too ashamed to admit the truth behind his actions.

-“I will tickle you again.” The melodious voice turned cold, stern in its decision and Joonmyeon was afraid of how grave it appeared, with every intention of proceeding with the said warning. Already feeling those fingers inching closer to his tender, sensitive sides, he yelped, moving away from the predator looming over him, but not swiftly enough to escape him, those lanky arms winding around his waist and pulling him backwards in a tight embrace that soon enough turned into a play of fingers over his ribs, Joonmyeon’s rigid body desperately crying for air as all he felt was sheer fear and no amusement. Truthfully, known to him how much he disliked being tickled and the way his body responded to it, squirming and trashing around to the point where the play became painful, it only served to exacerbate him further, the incessant tickles only serving as a pained torture.

-“Stop! Stop!” His strained voice gave out the fiery pain invading his ribs, Jongdae’s arms on instinct releasing the older one from the hold, watching as he scrambled to his feet, huffing and frowning, his countenance pulled into a deep frown with disgust laced in his eyes.

-“You know I hate being tickled.” He spat out, pulling his uniform dress shirt down and smoothening out the creases. “Fine, I’ll tell you, but you’ll hate me for it.”

Jongdae’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, his arms resting at his sides as he pulled closer to the headboard, watching other meticulously fixing his uniform until he was satisfied, letting out a resigned sigh once their eyes met.

-“I wanted to make a movie night next Saturday. I thought we could watch Summer Wars and Tekkonkinkreet, I managed to buy both DVDs on sale day before yesterday, so… I wanted to buy sweets you like the most. I mean, people make big farewell parties, but it’s just the two of us and I thought this could be more…” Intimate. Silent. ”fun.”

Fun was not how Jongdae would describe their time together, but the word fit well too, except he knew a myriad others that were more fitting. Pleasant, one of them; shy, full of yen and silent longing the other. Fun was never how he saw it, for all he was ever able to focus on were Joonmyeon’s delicate fingers tracing the pale lines of his notebook or his dazzling, brilliant eyes that were all but kind when he saw the lack of attention on Jongdae’s face, it evident by his blank, stupefied gaze that proved of no improvement.

Yet, he had to admit, that plan did sound like fun. The two of them gobbling down immense quantity of food in a single night whilst watching cartoons, that certainly did not sound repulsive. He laughed, a voice so merry and crisp that brought a note of shrillness with it as he threw himself backwards, back colliding with the headboard and eliciting a slamming sound, deceptively painful, before his face alit in delight met Joonmyeon’s pillow that was thrown at him, the other latching at the poor object that slipped to the end of the bed from all the trashing, using it as a tool to silence the other.

-“Do you think my idea was funny?” He snapped, lurching forwards to grab the pillow and playfully try to choke the other who continued with his laughing, all but serious.

-“No, no, no! Don’t!” Jongdae choked out between rapt chuckles and giggles, trying to push the pillow away from his face. “I like it, I really do!”

-“Then why are you laughing!” Shouted back Joonmyeon, his face showing no menace as he continued to shower Jongdae with cackles and playful attacks with his pillow, caught frozen in place, the soft, feathery weapon clutched tightly in hand when he received a mortally cold response.

-“I’m thankful.”

And that was the end, the last of his poorly built defense walls crumbling down to naught as he watched other’s sincere eyes staring up at him, slight lassitude evident in them before they turned happy again, lively and full of felicity as usual, yet a certain part of him just knew it was a façade forced, something to make him believe Jongdae felt naught but delight.

-“Thankful?” He asked quietly, placing the pillow atop Jongdae’s chest and setting between his propped legs, too captivated by his eyes to move away.

-“Nobody else would even think of doing it. So yes, thankful.”

Joonmyeon was left utterly dazed, unknown to him how to respond, what to say to make the atmosphere lighter, to make it insouciant, how to alleviate the hurt in other’s voice or what to do to break the chain of incessant misfortune that seemed to befall almost every conversation they shared lately, every and each ending with an awkward stop, with an unpleasant turnaround of the flow.

To say the rest of the evening was not continued in the same tone would be a blatant lie, yet at a certain part they had to resume with the schoolwork so both eased a significant note down while meddling with Jongdae’s math homework, yet Joonmyeon could still hear other’s words ringing so clearly, so sharply in his mind that it left him uneasy even when the storm seemed to have calmed down.

They had dinner after which came another painful session of tutoring Jongdae who seemed less and less willing to comprehend anything with every passing moment, even the simplest of tasks, let alone learn, and Joonmyeon had it enough at one part, deliberately closing the textbook with a slam and pushing it back in other’s backpack along with several notebooks and chemistry textbook that was in such a poor shape Joonmyeon was afraid to even hold it, thinking the pages were about to fall out.

-“Enough.” He stated, looking at other’s face suddenly alit in dawning realization, enough of a proof how attentive Jongdae was throughout the lesson. “I can’t do any of it tonight anymore. Let’s continue tomorrow, okay? I have my own homework to deal with too, so I’ll see you tomorrow in school, you can see yourself out, right?”

Jongdae let out a light huff, displeased at the sudden rejection, yet was unable to say anything that could persuade Joonmyeon into explaining him the last of examples they did in school, aware of the light note of irritation filling other’s voice when he bid him such goodbye, quickly collecting loose pens that dotted the desk and dropping them into the backpack, letting them mingle freely with his ragged books.

It was then that he slowly came to realize the little note rustling almost incoherently in his pocket, now certainly crumpled by the looks of it, a note he had written previously that day with hopes of giving it to Joonmyeon that afternoon, with intention of slipping it somehow unnoticeably into his notebooks, but completely occupied by prior events, he was too exhausted to think of it slightly earlier before his leave.
He gripped the arms of his backpack, not saying anything as he slowly left the room, missing Joonmyeon’s attentive gaze plastered to his back as he did so, with every intention of dropping the little paper somewhere where Joonmyeon would not notice it too quickly - at least not quick enough for Jongdae to deal with consequences of his confession and rejection that surely ensued that afternoon... or before his departure form the country.

With inexplicable, overwhelming dread he approached the narrow, clustered hallway, observing finely the line of myriad of coats dotting the wall, finding easily the outstanding, vibrant red of Joonmyeon’s that seemed so lush and lascivious compared to dull hues of all others, a color so eminent that seemingly adamant, spread the wafting aura of dominance and passion, color so fervent. He was enthralled by it.

Fishing through his pocket, he pulled out the aforementioned crumpled note, trying to smoothen out the creases before folding it once again and slowly, clutching at it with his trembling fingers, he let it drop into a deep pocket of the fire-akin coat that boldly showed itself in the mass of black surrounding it, checking if it was safely in the confinement of it before proceeding to take his own coat off the hanger and dress himself, chuckling bitterly, almost sardonically, at his view of bravery and valiance.

A true confession was not a wordless one, not through mere, crumpled paper with love whispers written over it in a shaky motion that were all but brave, yet scared of himself, of his own feelings drowning him in sea of regretful tears, he had not dared to voice them out proudly, terrified of spiteful, cold rejection. Of hearing it, feeling it, witnessing it. It was scary enough to be in love, yet by far scarier to voice it out. Love is like a wolf, a predator, hungry for tender, al souls so prone to be shattered, shattered to dust that glimmers, decaying to naught with every syllable of rejection drenched in wretched poison of hurt.

He felt like he was falling to pieces watching his own emotions conveyed onto paper slipping into darkness of the pocket where they were to lay hidden until the owner, by one’s lucky, by other’s unlucky, finds them and drinks in their content, leaving Jongdae to await the response with much of stifling tautness.

As soon as he was assured the note was where he intended to place it, not on the floor or caught in between the coats, checking once more to see if it was truly in the designated pocket, he had fully dressed himself up and buttoned his own coat, checking if he had brought everything with himself, including keys and phone, before opening the door and meeting surprisingly soothing and calming chill of the winter’s early breeze that washed over his face, smoothening the frown previously etched on it.
He was afraid. Incredibly so, feeling his heart beat at pace unbelievable, pace to fast and strenuous he felt as if the brittle muscle was about to burst.

He had to get away, run fast, so far away from that wretched note and the person he intended for it to read it, so desperately clutching at his coat as he exited the house, moving with a nimble gait down the street, trying to avert his thoughts from the confession he, albeit wordlessly and secretly, just made.

Joonmyeon was busying himself with his homework, angrily scribbling down the cursed integers that seemingly did not turn out the way solutions suggested, leaving the poor boy baffled and exhausted merely at the thought of redoing the exercise. If it weren’t for his younger brother that found the perfect moment to interrupt his self-proclaimed productive study time, he would’ve certainly gone mad.

Sehun shuffled sneakily into his room without even bothering to knock, dropping all of his weight onto the bed with a muffled wail as he clutched at the pillow that still had traces of their previous endeavor, most prominent being the rip in the fabric that allowed feathers on occasion to slip out of its confinement.

-“You were quite loud in bed.” He pointed out nonchalantly, causing Joonmyeon to cough abruptly and bite back a venomous response, known to him how much his brother liked to with adultery jokes concerning him and Jongdae. “The fight, I mean.” He added before Joonmyeon could jump and gnaw at his throat, doing a desperate attempt to silence his younger brother that found immense pleasure in exacerbating him to the point of boiling in fury from all the elfish words that could slip those innocent looking mouth.

-“I heard you all over down in the living room. Mom thought you were thlaying each other.”

Almost, thought Joonmyeon, remembering the dread tickling attacks.

-“None of your concern.” He spat out bitterly, dropping the pen onto the notebook as he turned around, facing his lazy brother rolling over the bed sheets he purposely tidied up and tightened so that no evidences of their mischievousness could be seen, an act he did not appreciate. Not at all.

Sehun shot him a knowing glance, something that even managed to confuse otherwise unmoving and unfazed Joonmyeon, a glance that said of so much knowledge and quiet observance that it left the older of the two wordless.

-“I know.” It was all he got back as a response to his spiteful remark, mere two words that left no more room for argument. “Mom told me to bring you down. Thhe thaid thhe needs two lemonth from the thupermarket for the dough, thhe thought thhe had it in the fridge, but dad threw them yethterday becauthe they were thpoiled already. Thhe told me to tell you to go and buy them.”

-“And what makes you unable to perform this task, my Lordship?” Responded Joonmyeon in a tone sardonic and sarcastic, laced with light bitterness.

-“Thhe loveth me.” Shrugged Sehun, smiling sheepishly at his brother who let out a drawled groan, realizing the futility of even trying to reject the order. Not a plea, but a definite order coming from the holy authority his mother was.

-“Fine, fine. I’ll go. Tell her to give me back my money when I return, I’ll just use what I have in the wallet.” He shuffled the papers on his desk, looking attentively for a hint of his lost wallet before exclaiming in delight as he fished it out, checking for several tucked bills before leaving the now messy confinement of his room, his younger brother trailing behind him with eyes that showed naught but elfish curiosity.

-“Tho, what did the two of you do, all alone, on your bed, thhouting?” Taken out of context, out of all that could testify the innocence of him and Jongdae, Joonmyeon concluded his brother had one incredibly dirty mind for someone so young, letting out a guttural groan of irritation as the prying into the subject had not ceased.

-“Mutht’ve been fun, huh? For the two of you… Doing thingth.”

-“Studying.”

-“If you call it tho. But thosthe were thome powerful vocal performanceth you did, you mutht be really proud of yourthelf. You have a nice voice there, big brother.”

Abruptly stopping in his tracks, he shot a painfully stern glance at the other, eyes so mortally cold he hoped it would kill the other instantly, or if not, make him wail and cry in pain as he dies slowly in drowning, searing pain so potent he would cry for forgiveness.

Sometimes, and just in such occurrences, he hated his younger brother.
-“I retreat to my chamberth.” The blonde responded, arms shooting up in the air as he took a step back from the vicious beast his older brother became, aware where his joked had to stop.

Huffing in response, Joonmyeon proceeded into the hallway, taking off his vibrant, beautiful coat from the hanger as he shouted his mom goodbye, seeing her emerging from the kitchen in clothes covered in flour, all breathless from the overload of work in there.

-“Don’t forget to buy package of vanilla sugar!”
-“What?” He asked, peering from the narrow hallway as he heard his mother shouting the answer, noting another ingredient he had to buy.

All buttoned up and tidy, he checked around for his sunglow yellow scarf Sehun gifted him as a present for last New Year, bitterly thinking about the little elfish creature his brother was, biting his lip as another gush of irritation washed over him. Albeit he loved him dearly, he could swear most of the time Sehun just liked to gnaw at his nerves and pester him, resulting in one big annoyance of a brother rather than endearing little sibling.

-“I’m off.” He yelled from the doorway before slipping out, hearing muffled ‘bye bye’ most likely by Sehun who was busy filling his mouth with cookies his mother diligently baked in the kitchen, hoping he would just outright choke on them as a punishment for all the teasing and poking at his intimate secrets he had done throughout his life.

Stuffing his hands into his pockets and exhaling a warm, amiable puff of air that left a smoky trace in air, his breath dissipating to naught soon after, he slowly trudged down the street, his fingers playfully mingling with the keys and leather encasement of his wallet, at first failing to notice the small folded paper among the said items. Yet when he had, stopping momentarily in his tracks to see what the unknown and unfamiliar object was, failing to remember stuffing a note or anything of the sort in his pocket, he fished it out, turning it around in his fingers in order to identify the nature of the object.
 

Strange, he thought, trying to uncoil the messily folded paper that was more akin to a crumpled ball than a message. Noticing something scribbled over it, he pulled himself closer to the looming street lamp, letting the pleasant, yellowish light seep over his lithe form as he turned the paper round and round until it was stretched flat and on the right side for him to read, having difficulties discerning the first few words until his eyes adjusted to the faint light and light hue of the letters, bringing the paper closer to his eyes in order to read them better.

I’m stupid and I don’t know what to say, truthfully. This is a stupid paper, yet I can’t even do it this way, let alone stand before you and tell it to your face. Joonmyeon frowned, the content of the note seeming all but pleasant. Insulting so far, he would dare add. I’ll be short because there is no point in drawling it out anyway. I love you. Not as in a way a friend should love a friend, but in a way a man should love a woman. And I have loved you for a long time.

He had checked the rest of the paper, finding it smudged with fingerprints, but there were no more words that could be counted as a continuation of the confession, leaving Joonmyeon utterly shocked at the content with mouth agape as he read it over and over again, his mind believing naught of what was written.

This had certainly been written by Jongdae; he could easily identify his narrow and messy handwriting anywhere and anytime – it was simply that unique and singular, yet what left him truly wordless was that he was not disgusted by it at all. He felt no abhorrence, nothing a man that feared of such love would’ve felt. Nothing of how he should, by all laws of nature and society, feel upon realizing the truth and meaning behind the written note. He was… excited, yes, excited. That was the word. He felt a suffocating sensation suddenly overwhelm him, something that was followed by a sting of fire filling his blood vessels, fire that ignited his soul and set him aflame with delight. With utter, absolute and flawless sensation of clarity, of a pinnacle so mellifluous, something by far above being restricted to be mundane, an opulent emotion exuding felicity and dripping in mirth, with it he was drowned in an endless void of it.

He felt unbridled, unhindered by the fact that he was a human and in that very moment nothing seemed impossible anymore. He felt a rush of vehement adrenaline fueling his nimble limbs, a potion so potent he felt invincible, untouchable to all. He felt like no man – no, he was above it. A creature born from love, he felt utterly divine upon taking in the meaning of the words, a weight of a burden he himself carried for far too long suddenly dropped as he let himself being overtaken by love he harbored for far too long, realizing it was literally a breath away form him all along.

And he ran.

Sunglow yellow scarf rippled on the merciless wind pounding against his billowing chest and grimaced face as he ran so fast his legs threatened to give out, the strain so burdensome and potent it made his muscles burn as if wildfire at his calves and up his thighs. It was not an amiable feeling, he dared notice. Rather, it bordered on extreme physical pain that would make any man fall to his knees and wail in hurt that was as strong as the grip of shark’s jaws. Yet, what kept him going despite the adamant, searing pain in his limbs, his valiant self unhindered by such mere sensation, was the unrelenting, unbridled and virile hope that flamed in his soul like a whimsical vortex – emotion so intense and powerful it was the strongest potion of all, filling his anemic, bloodless body with such vigor he knew of naught better.

His scarf akin to a flag billowed on the vehement waves of wind carrying him, layer after a layer of cloth carelessly swaying behind his back as he ran with an even faster pace, aiming to catch up with the little runaway that managed to slip before he was aware of the truth. Storming down his street, he abruptly crossed the road, his feet stomping hard over the concrete ground with him caring less whether or not a car was approaching his direction and continued down, turning left at the first crossroad with intention of catching Jongdae before he could enter the bus. With dread he watched the aforementioned vehicle approach, slowing down as it neared the station with several people waiting already, not falling unnoticed to him how an attenuate willowy form clad in black, heavy coat with blaringly white headphones deafening his ears swiftly walked across the road, Jongdae's head hung low as his eyes were cast towards the bleary ground, unaware of the man running desperately after him.

-"Jongdae!" He effortlessly cried out, the name akin to most succulent of fruits rolling from his tongue as if it were in his nature to voice it out. Despite the strain crushing down at his swelling chest, it came out powerful, an echo so majestic he wondered where that newfound strength came from, his voice much unlike the delicate, likable tone it usually possessed. It was vigorous, demanding and almost animalistic in its pure essence, a strenuous cry that could pierce through any wall – a gush, river so violent and trashing it could break any obstacle set. Jongdae halted, his form frozen by the icy tendrils encasing his limbs that forbade him from moving, eyes aimlessly looking for the source of the shrill sound that breached the sound barriers of his headphones, their clarity marred by nonplussed sight suddenly surfacing in his piercing, dark orbs.

Running towards him was a Joonmyeon of gaunt, strained face, his bloodless skin such a painful contrast to the strikingly bold, ferocious red of his coat, the color so vivid, so full of life it made his pitiful appearance the least bit more opulent. The bus slowly started, going away and before he could even register what was happening, the little air he had in his lungs was forcefully pushed out as strong, yet attenuate body crashed mercilessly against his own, hungrily latching for his narrow shoulders and forcing him to press close, his headphones pushed off his head to slump against his back as Joonmyeon’s fingers etched painfully hard into the cloth of his coat, forcefully keeping Jongdae in his grasp.

-“Idiot!” He cried out, tightening his hold. “You should have told me. You should have said it. All along, all along to be quiet about it… I… I would’ve…”

Jongdae’s face turned mortally cold as his eyes, otherwise dead looking, slowly welled up in tears, noticing how tenderly Joonmyeon’s fingers came up to caress his cold cheeks, cradling his face with a touch so cherishing that it felt surreal, the very heat radiating off those fingertips.

-“I love you Kim Jongdae. I love you.”

And that’s where he met his breaking point, Kim Jongdae, a boy that assured himself was brave and strong, was crying his heart out in front of the person he least expected to be seen by and to be cradled like that. It felt so fulfilling, so good it hurt. And it made him feel immensely satisfied.

-“I love you. I love you. I love you.” It was a repetitive chant, each followed by a strong, yet pleading gaze of Joonmyeon’s deep orbs, his thumbs running over Jongdae’s cheeks and brushing the stray tears away, shivering at the sensation of the cold skin beneath his fingers exuding absolutely no warmth.
Sobbing from the excessive cries, Jongdae closed his eyes, unable to fully breathe as he felt the most divine of all reliefs suddenly letting him live free of the burden straining his heart all along, his willow thin lips parting as he let out a silent wail, feeling other’s hands running up his pale face and caressing his head, gently threading through his silky hair before the faintest of warm breaths announced something that Jongdae had yearned for for a long, long time.

Their lips met in a gentle touch, a shy, tentative one. Still learning about their love, they were unsure, both too scared to initiate anything further from that. It was a simple peck that lasted long; to them it was infinity, a blessed infinity.

They parted with reluctance, Joonmyeon’s hands slowly retreating to his sides as he felt Jongdae inch closer, his sobs muffled by the vibrant color of his coat and the almost golden scarf proving to be soft and lush enough for other to bury his face in it.

Without much words, the two of them sat on the bench on the bus station, holding hands now complacently and without any bashfulness, Jongdae’s cries long silenced and all that was now reminiscing of them was his hoarse voice and blood shot eyes, swollen and unhealthy looking, yet curving into a most beautiful eyesmile Joonmyeon had seen with a pair of lips following suit.

-“I wish I could stay.” Jongdae spoke, turning around to meet other’s beautiful eyes cherishingly staring at him, a gaze so warm and loving it made his heart clench at the sight of them.

He needed no response, for other’s eyes said it all. Joonmyeon wished for same, yet both knew that only scarce time was left for them to spend together, an opportunity they wished not to waste.

-“You will.” The older spoke, his voice the usual, delicate and dulcet tone that made Jongdae inwardly chuckle at the amiableness of it, and then pressed his fingers to his heart fluttering wildly beneath the thick layer of his coat. Here. You will be here forever.


 

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Hello, I hope you enjoyed this chapter ^^ 
And the feelings are finally out! Angsty and tear wrecking, but oh well, it had to be dramatic x3
The story has reached its pinnacle and is slowly approaching the end with several more chapters ahead, so to all those wondering: no, it is not finished yet. Though this would make a good conclusion to it as well.

There are still many firsts that the two need to experience, or so I am trying to convince myself.
Until next chapter!

Goodbye my readers and drop a comment or two ^^

image credit: yesungdancing.tumblr.com