holy cow i've been dying to put this since i realized none of my one shots had to do with stars or collectors (aka the beginning).

anyway, there's a looonger a/n at the end so, yeah.

planetarium, by ai otsuka. also, sunggyu's cover of my heart is like a star/my heart with the stars (idk dude, there are different translations) because stars

!sunggyu-centric; implied stuff, but very very light; friendship!donggyu; a 7k monster that i was too lazy to cut and i'm pretty sure it's not really revised.

The countless starry sky is still here now, forever

The night, illuminated by the city lights, looks breathtaking from where Sunggyu is standing. The window of his apartment that is located on the top of the building, even though small, allows him to see the lights from the roofs of endless buildings he will never finish counting. He used to find it beautiful. However, he can't bring himself to react to the beautiful view he's always cherished, even though he's always loved the bright nights on Seoul.

("You know, more than anyone, that I'd love to stay in this place," in this same place, Woohyun had mumbled against the skin of his neck, soft rumble of his voice echoing in Sunggyu's ear with pauses and odd edges, "but I have to go."

Sunggyu sighed, just like he does now that he's the only one in the apartment, and leaned against the touch that is not there anymore.

"I know.")

No, he doesn't enjoy the sight as much as he used to. It brings him melancholy (even though he has it buried deep inside, hidden under countless hours of a part-time at Sungyeol's store and Dongwoo's café, and chords and lyrics from a love song he's forgotten how to sing), so he closes the curtain and moves on—as much as he can, anyway.

Grabbing his guitar case, Sunggyu notices it's almost eight. He also takes a jacket and later, and when he's at the door, comes back for the keys he forgot on the kitchen table. His job at Dongwoo's will start soon. He exits the small apartment, unwittingly releasing a relieved sigh. The place holds thousands of memories he tries his best to forget, so many it gets suffocating—

(Especially on what was left of summer nights shortly after Woohyun was gone, when the heat was unbearable, and the kids of his neighbor knocking on his door to invite him to play with fireworks—"to cheer you up!" they said—brought tears to his eyes he was unable to share.)

—so he goes out every time he can.

(He met Woohyun almost a year ago, on the verge of summer, when he was leaving for work. The guy, full of sharp features and rough edges, was sitting on the floor, looking through a bag just as strange as the tribal-looking clothing he was wearing. Not once did he bother to look at the blood oozing from the wounds on his forehead and arms. Sunggyu saw him and felt a sudden urge to help him.

He faltered on his step for a second, unsure of what to do. He wanted to help, but what if the stranger was dangerous? There had to be a reason for him to be this hurt. And the fact that he wasn't even flinching at the pain he must have been going through was also suspicious. But, even though the alarms on his mind were going crazy, telling him to step away and focus on getting to his job, he approached the male on the floor, even if his acts were irrational, inexplicable.

"Eh, Mister?" he called, crouching next to the man. He had made up his mind; he couldn't leave a person bleeding off to death in front of his apartment building. "Are you okay?" The man looked up, dark brown eyes greeting Sunggyu. His gaze, as expected, was rough and intimidating, but it softened in a second. "Do you want me to call someone?" The stranger blinked. "An ambulance?"

Seconds passed without any kind of response. The man didn't break the eye contact. Sunggyu moved a bit, fear of making a fool of himself tugging at his mind. Was this some kind of joke? He started to stand up when silence started becoming awkward. However, he stumbled back on his crouched position when a strong hand pulled him.

"No calls." The stranger shook his head. "Can you help me by yourself, instead?"

This time it was Sunggyu the one who blinked, surprised. The soft, rumbling baritone caught him off guard. "Yes?"

Surprisingly, the stranger smiled—corner of his lips stretching and eyes disappearing. Sunggyu felt his throat going dry. "Great! Do you have a place where I can," he paused, laughing softly at a silent joke the other male wasn't able to catch, "crash?"

Sunggyu found himself at a loss of words. The man was expecting he offered his apartment. He looked like a grown-up man who should certainly have his own place by now. But maybe he had been kicked out and beaten up, he reasoned. So, what to do?

"S-sure," he ended up saying without knowing, causing the stranger's smile to widen. Sunggyu bit his lip, suppressing himself from mirroring him. There wasn't a reason to smile, was it? He had just gotten himself into an unknown (and possibly dangerous) situation. But he couldn't change the fact that he offered his cramped apartment to a stranger.

"Thanks" he said, picking himself up from the floor. Sunggyu did the same, barely catching him when he stumbled with his own feet. "Wow, I'm starting to feel dizzy."

The man, still swinging sightly, left Sunggyu's embrace, and tried to stand up straight. Sunggyu crouched again, holding the strips of the stranger's bag. But, before he tried to lift it, the guy snatched it away from him. He flinched, startled at the suddenness of the movement.

"That was fast," he mumbled, getting back into his feet. The surprise was replaced with fear. He didn't consider it before; what if the stranger was just faking his weakness, so that he could take Sunggyu off guard (again)? He turned to see the stranger's smile turning apologetic, somehow feeling betrayed. The bag was already hanging on his shoulder. "Too much for being dizzy."

"Sorry." He scratched the back of his head. "This is heavy, even I'm having trouble with it." His smile was still there, despite the blood smeared on his lips and slight swings of his body. Sunggyu nodded, forgetting his thoughts about the stranger being dangerous for a moment. "So, where to?"

"Home," Sunggyu mumbled, opening the door. Whatever it was going on with the guy—whose name Sunggyu would bother to ask when they weren't so busy treating the injuries—didn't matter at the moment. Whoever was this hurt should receive some kind of treatment, he reasoned, even if he didn't know anything about the person.)

Dongwoo's café isn't out of the ordinary. It's fairly small, like most cafés in the district. Terrestrial colors are abundant, with sparks of mint green here and there that strangely harmonizes. The owner is proud of the place because it never fails to keep the usual customers coming, and the new ones staying.

It's there where Sunggyu works at night. His friend is kind enough to let him sing and play the guitar until it's closing time, ever since the place was established. The customers have also taken a liking on him, even though the only thing he can do is sing love songs that have lost their meaning. They leave tips, clap once in a while, request for songs, and even compliment him.

It's not that he doesn't like it—In fact, he used to love it—but the problem is that he doesn't enjoy it anymore, at least not as much as he used to.

"You seem down," Dongwoo says when Sunggyu enters. "More than usual."

"Hello to you, too," Sunggyu muses, moving to the small stage in the corner to put his guitar. "Do I?"

The small amount of customers look at him with curiosity while he goes to the stage. He places the guitar case on the floor and opens it, to later take out the guitar. With his back turned to the owner, he fails to see the discontent grimace of the man.

Moments later, some more people start entering. It's not full (it never is), but with the customers sitting on their tables and chatting softly, it's enough to make a good atmosphere. There are the usual customers, he notices, but there are also new people who look around at the walls, amazed with the decorations Dongwoo has put.

Sunggyu clears his throat when he finishes tuning up his guitar, he sits on the chair placed next to him and signals one of the employees to turn on the mic. The people turn to watch him, some interested, some curious, some others used to him. Group of girls giggling and some boys trying not to mind the looks their dates are giving him.

"Good evening," he starts, making the effort to put a soft smile on his face. At the sound of his voice, the conversations start dying down. "I hope everybody's enjoying their night. For the ones who are not, ask Dongwoo for a refund."

The people laugh, Dongwoo being the loudest one. Sunggyu says something more, following the routine, and asks them if they've been well. As always, he encourages to request a song, and asks them to enjoy the next piece, which is a cover to bla bla bla. The customers clap a bit when he announces he's going to start, and he gives a small bow to the audience.

It's been a long time since he doesn't pay attention to the song he's playing. At the moment he starts strumming chords on his guitar, his mind immediately wanders off to somewhere far from the small café. It travels to that year's summer, when Woohyun's interstellar kisses trailing down his spine were enough to set his skin on fire and the bright dust he seemed to shake off his hair once in a while, enough to make him smile.

("You need to repeat that for me," Sunggyu said some days later, after Woohyun had been sleeping on his bed for quite a while and his injuries were healing. "You're a star collector."

"Stars collector," Woohyun replied, rolling on his stomach. "Plural." His expression was dull, dark brown eyes boring into him. "It's the third time you make me say it."

"It doesn't matter, you say you're a collector of stars." Sunggyu rolled his eyes. "And how old are you?"

Woohyun rose both hands and started counting with his fingers. "Two… Possibly two and a half million years old?"

Sunggyu scoffed. "And you expect me to believe that? Listen, you need to tell me the truth if you want to keep staying here."

Woohyun rolled back in front of Sunggyu, who was sitting on a cushion next to the bed. They had been like this all day, lazily lying around. It was one of Sunggyu's unusual days off on his part-time. Sungyeol said there was a next kid and he needed to cut hours for him. So, until it was time for him to go to Dongwoo's, they were staying on the apartment.

"But I'm telling you the truth!" Woohyun claimed. "Why would I lie about something as serious as that?"

"Because," Sunggyu started, standing up, "you don't want me to know the kind of trouble you're in." He shook off the dirt from his pants, before Woohyun's sulking face. He himself was getting mad, too. "I've been nice and let you stay, but you're not telling me things."

"What things?"

"Like, for example, how did you get yourself injured when I found you."

Woohyun sat on the edge of the bed, eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed. To Sunggyu, he looked like a kid whose parents didn't buy him the toy he liked. "I already told you!"

"''Falling from the sky' doesn't count." Then, after listening to his own words, Sunggyu realized something. Why hadn't he thought of that before? The kid must have escaped from some madhouse, that would explain a lot of things. He looked at Woohyun, trying to find any kind of suspicious behavior. Nothing, but he didn't lose anything with asking. "Have you, by any chance, been to a mental institution?"

"I don't know what that is, so no." By now, Woohyun had started to look offended. "I'm not crazy, if that's what you're asking."

"You say you come from Andromeda." Sunggyu raised a finger. "You're a star collector, whatever that is." He raised the second one, numerating.

"Stars collector. Plural."

Sunggyu ignored him. "You're two million years old." He raised the third finger, voice becoming more skeptic as he went on. "And you fell from the sky because you collided with an asteroid by accident." He shot a meaningful glare at Woohyun, fourth finger raised, too. "How do you expect me to believe that?"

Woohyun hastily stand up, making his way towards Sunggyu. His gaze was, again, strong and corrosive. The owner of the apartment wouldn't admit it, but he looked kind of intimidating. "You humans are more skeptical than I thought." Instead of stopping in front of Sunggyu, as expected, he went to the kitchen. The tone wasn't recriminating or sulking, as it would have been expected from Woohyun. It was, instead, disillusioned. For a second, Sunggyu doubted himself. What if, just what if Woohyun was telling the truth? "And stars collectors are exactly that; people who collect stars."

At the disinterested tone of Woohyun's voice, Sunggyu felt something close to sadness tugging at his chest. And it continued, after he mumbled, "I still think 'Star Collector' is fine in singular," and Woohyun didn't mutter a response. But still, he didn't give up completely. Going to the kitchen, where Woohyun had busied himself with toasted bread, he spoke again, "Then, what you have on your bag…"

"Stars," Woohyun replied without looking at him. He, however, looked up when he finished the food, tone nonchalant and strangely hurtful. "Toast?"

Sunggyu took the one covered in jam, leaving the one with butter and sugar for Woohyun, who took it and stuffed it into his mouth. "That's not possible." He recalled Physics class, back when he was in school. "A star's size is like, a million times the earth's."

Woohyun smiled softly, and little by little, Sunggyu's resolution started to crumble apart. "Is that what they taught you?," he asked, traces of exasperation gone from his features. Before Sunggyu was able to reply, he placed a short-lived, sugary kiss on Sunggyu's cheek that left him standing in the kitchen for a long time.)

"You know," Dongwoo says when it's time to close and Sunggyu is putting his guitar back in the case, "even the customers are starting to question what's going on with you."

"And what have you said to them?" Sunggyu asks, not really interested. He finishes packing up his stuff and hangs the case on his shoulder. When he looks at Dongwoo, the look on his face is neutral.

"I've been making excuses for you." Dongwoo flashes a smile not exactly comforting, which is strange because Dongwoo is always comforting. "Not sure if you want me to go ventilating your secrets to the world."

"Tell them whatever you want." He starts walking, Dongwoo moving next to him, towards the exit. "I don't care."

Dongwoo sighs. Sunggyu muses over the fact, stopping shortly to analyze his friend. He seems tired, so he mentions it. Dongwoo dismisses it, shaking his hand. "Don't worry about me. Listen, about Woohyun—"

"Oh, don't start, please." Sunggyu cuts him off, words sharp and fists clenched in a second. Dongwoo doesn't understand; for him, Woohyun was just a strange boy of summer who came and settled on Sunggyu's life, to later leave him without a reason. He doesn't know Woohyun was (is, will be) Sunggyu's everything, a boy from space who took his heart and put in on a bottle next to the stars he was carrying.

And most importantly, he doesn't know it's Sunggyu's fault Woohyun's gone.

"But hyung," Dongwoo goes on, despite the lack of enthusiasm from Sunggyu's part. "It's been almost a year now, how long do you expect to be stuck like this?"

Just like Dongwoo did minutes ago, Sunggyu sighs. By now, they're both outside the building, the owner closing the main door, stealing anxious glances at his friend, and Sunggyu leaning against the window. "Answer this, do you think telling a person with a broken arm 'heal fast!' will suddenly do the magic and the arm will work again?" He looks at Dongwoo, waiting for his response. The man looks at him, too, but looks down and shakes his head. "Do you think telling someone with an eating disorder 'hey, cheer up, you're fine as you are' will help them get rid of it at the moment?" Dongwoo shakes his head again, and the sense of victory feels bitter against Sunggyu's tongue.

But still, Dongwoo replies, voice uncharacteristically serious, "so you're telling me that I can't tell you to move on because it won't happen?"

"That's not the point," Sunggyu defends himself. "I'm just saying it takes more than that." Then, as an afterthought, "it takes time."

Dongwoo closes his eyes, lying against the window next to him. The two of them stay like that for a while, looking at the busy city life at night. Sunggyu shivers when the cool air hits his skin. Even though it's almost summer, the night is still chilly. He realizes his own thoughts and widens his eyes. It's almost summer.

That means it's almost the time when he met Woohyun a year ago. He blinks, trying to fight back the tears that are threatening to fall. Next to him, Dongwoo looks deep in though, probably trying to form a good answer to Sunggyu's argument. Sunggyu, for his part, is glad he doesn't notice.

"But," Dongwoo mutters, more to himself than to Sunggyu, "how much time it takes? How much will it take when you haven't started wanting to move on?" Sunggyu gulps, voice strangely lost. He hopes his friend doesn't pressure him to answer. He's sure he will end up breaking if he does. Luckily, Dongwoo seems to understand. "Listen, I know I should've said this before, but you're always fine, you're always okay, so I wished you actually were. But I think you should move out from your apartment. You can come and stay with me for a while, I'm sure my roommate won't mind."

Sunggyu thinks about it. His apartment, cramped and full of the dust that has lost its shine left over by Woohyun, has nothing to offer; nothing to offer except countless memories of Woohyun laughing at him—or with him—and lips against lips; of both of them, lying on the bed that is too small, and counting starts weak and invisible from the light of the city. No, the apartment without Woohyun is nothing more than an empty shell.

"I'll think about it," he ends up saying, strangled voice and bittersweet taste on his lips.

(Sunggyu took Woohyun to the planetarium on the Gwacheon National Science Museum, with the mindset of proving the other male how impossible it would be for a star to fit in a bottle. He, however, laughed all the way to Gwancheon, claiming that he already knew everything behind those lies. Some people on the train stared at them, curious, but when Sunggyu nudged him to keep quiet, Woohyun laughed a bit louder and held his hand instead.

And to make things worse, once they were sitting on the wide, reclined seats, and facing the starred ceiling, Sunggyu wasn't able to stop Woohyun from mumbling contradictions. The deep voice from the man narrating how Lyra was best seen during summer and how January was the best month to see Orion's belt was muffled under Woohyun muttering I've seen Vega before, she's not that pretty, or, There are actually more than 'Seven Sisters'.

And later, when the man started talking about Andromeda and Cassiopeia, he mumbled "home," and pointed at the constellations with such fondness that had Sunggyu looking at him with curiosity. Even if he didn't want to admit it, Woohyun was crumbling his defenses and settling on his life with easiness. Sunggyu discovered, much to his dismay, how easy was for him to start believing Woohyun's words. How easy was for him to accept Woohyun in his life.

So, he found himself, even though in a softer voice, asking Woohyun, "Are the stars like us?"

Woohyun rose up from the half-lying position. He turned to face Sunggyu, who was still lying, and smiled. The curiosity on his eyes, even though there wasn't much light, spoke levels. "Why, do you believe me now?"

"Just answer," Sunggyu said, nudging him, "but lower your voice."

"Oh, okay," Woohyun replied, this time in hushed tones. "Stars aren't humans—humanoids, I mean; stars collectors are." He didn't stop stressing the s every time he talked about them. "Still, they have human characteristics."

"Like the ones you mentioned?" Sunggyu found himself more interested. It felt like a fairy-tale, like a story taken from a children's book, but he went on. "Are they petty?" Woohyun nodded. "Selfish?" Another nod. "Grumpy?" He nodded another time. "And also… bad?"

Woohyun chuckled this time. "Yes, but they're also good."

"And what happens with the bad ones?"

"We capture them." Despite the dim lights, Sunggyu saw the proud grin Woohyun was wearing.

"And you put them in a bottle?"

"Yes. We also rescue the ones who fall, and the ones who are hurt."

Sunggyu tried to picture Woohyun, stalking close to a constellation, until he was close enough to grab a star with his right hand and put it on a bottle. When he was done, he moved along the galaxy, looking in every corner, until he found a weak, barely-shining star. And that star, too, was put inside the bottle.

He couldn't fight the smile that creept to his lips at the thought. However, he realized that there was a problem with that imagery. "But, if you put the troublemakers"—Woohyun laughed at the term—"and the weak stars together, won't they fight?"

Woohyun's soft smile evolved to a wide, shining one, when he realized Sunggyu believed him. And soon, Sunggyu mirrored it without any particular reason.

"They can't do anything when they're inside the bottle. They're reduced to bright dots."

"Oh," Sunggyu said, feeling his mouth curve in a perfect o. He wasn't sure of the feeling settling on his stomach, but it was something close to excitement and lightheartedness. "You have to show me the bottle when we get home."

Woohyun looked like he felt the same, especially when he leaned towards Sunggyu and closed the space between their lips. Sunggyu didn't close his eyes at first, gazing at the bright, artificially starred sky behind Woohyun through his eyelids. It was beautiful, just as beautiful as the way Woohyun slid his tongue along his bottom lip, his hand placing soft touches on Sunggyu's cheeks; as beautiful as his breath filling Sunggyu's lungs, and his taste something else that wasn't from this world.

"I will," Woohyun replied, just as breathless as him, when their lips stopped moving against each other and the lights went back on. Sunggyu smiled, nodding, and pulled himself up. The narrator's voice, thanking the viewers became nothing but a distant buzz as they exited the planetarium.)

Days after that night at Dongwoo's, and after he thinks about it, Sunggyu decides his friend may be right after all. The idea of moving out of the apartment doesn't sound so bad, after all. Even if the mere thought brings his mood down, he realizes there's no reason to stay on a place full of ghosts from the past. Woohyun is not coming back.

So, even though his hands tremble and he has to stop several times to take deep breaths, Sunggyu calls Dongwoo and starts packing up. He won't move out yet, though. He's paid this month's rent and his contract won't end soon unless he cancels it, anyway. Dongwoo agrees to let him stay for a while, at least until he finds another place, to help him reorganize his thoughts.

Resolved, Sunggyu starts putting his clothes on a gray, fair-sized bag. Later, he starts filling boxes with things from drawers. He won't take much with him—not that he has a lot anyway. However, somewhere between taking out the socks from a drawer of his bed frame and opening another, Sunggyu finds something that makes him stop his movements.

There's a small, black-colored voice recorder placed on the drawer, neatly put next to a stack of notebooks and another thousands of useless office supplies he forgot he had. It's unfamiliar to him, so it peeks his curiosity.

He tries to turn it on, but nothing happens. After trying again a couple of times, he realizes the batteries may be dead. Checking for batteries on the same drawer, Sunggyu clicks his tongue. He smiles in victory when he finds a couple of double-a alkaline batteries, though. Carefully, he changes the batteries and turns on the recorder. It works.

Sunggyu plays around with it for a moment, just to find that there's something already recorded. Interested, he rewinds until the machine stops automatically. He presses play and waits. At first, there's only silence greeting him, with soft, almost-there buzz adorning the background. But then there's a voice, muttering unintelligible things. There's a voice, one that Sunggyu recognizes.

"Um, hello?" Woohyun starts, voice trembling and unsure, and Sunggyu's breath hitches. "Is this working? I hope it is. I, well, how do I start this? Eh, I'm making a fool of myself." Sunggyu chuckles at Woohyun's clumsiness, tears starting to form on his eyes. "Oh, I know! If you're Sunggyu, then I must have left and you found this by accident." The smile on his lips turns bittersweet as he stares at the small device. "If you're Woohyun, well, you're an idiot. Look at you, talking to a machine."

Sunggyu pauses, chuckling. He rubs his eyes, fighting back the tears. "Yes, you're an idiot." He smiles fondly, sitting back on the same cushion where he sat that day when Woohyun claimed he was a star collector. Just after he has settled, cross-legged and holding the recorder with both hands, he presses play again.

"Oh," Woohyun's voice greets him back, "and if you're neither Woohyun or Sunggyu, please give this to him. I'm sure he'll appreciate it. So, um, having in mind that you're Sunggyu, I'm going to continue.

"Sunggyu, are you packing up? I hope you are, you wouldn't be searching on this drawer otherwise." Sunggyu lets out a strangled laugh. Woohyun knows—knew; truth hurts—him too well. "Or you're cleaning, but—Don't laugh! We both know it's true." Woohyun replies from the recorder, surprising Sunggyu. "But anyway, it's good you're packing. Are you moving out soon? I hope so, this place was kind of depressing. I knew that if I had to go—because you know, I can be an idiot sometimes, but I wouldn't leave you unless this wasn't the most important thing in the universe—you would be able to."

He sighs—or sobs, he's not sure anymore—and pauses again. He rewinds some seconds and presses play again, letting the I wouldn't leave you unless this wasn't the most important thing in the universe fill the silent room again. Sunggyu rewinds again, and presses play, stopping shortly after I wouldn't leave you and pressing the rewind button back again. It stays like that for minutes, with him going back and forth between the I and you, closing his eyes. In his imaginationg, Woohyun's voice is not recorded. It comes from the stars collector, who crouches next to him and mumbles the words on his ear.

Somehow, when Sunggyu opens his eyes again, he realizes his vision is clouded and his cheeks feel damp.

"Because you know," Sunggyu lets the pre-recorded Woohyun continue, hastily rubbing his eyes with the sleeve, "you were the strongest person on earth I met." Then, Woohyun lets an embarrassed chuckle. "Not that I met many… Wait, I wasn't supposed to say that. Well, you get the point. Even after I showed you the bottle and you knew I was telling the truth,"—His voice holds a level of childish reproach that makes Sunggyu smile—"you accepted me. I was so glad to met you, Sunggyu. I don't think you've realized how much."

"I do," Sunggyu mumbles, but the Woohyun encapsuled in the small recorder doesn't grasp it and keeps going.

"—and how much I regret doing whatever stupid mistake I made—"

"It wasn't your mistake," Sunggyu cuts him off, voice cracking. "It was mine."

"—but I hope you forgive me."

"There's nothing to forgive." He stops, staring at the device with absent eyes. He's given up with the tears by now, letting them stream down.

"I love you." And the recording ends.

And Sunggyu is about to say I love you too, when he stops himself. There's a glint of angriness that bubbles at the last words, unexplicable, irrational. Woohyun loved him and yet he left. He didn't take Sunggyu with him. He didn't even say goodbye. Before he's able to grasp the situation (the fact that he doesn't have the right to be angry) he's standing on the middle of the room, swinging his arm to throw the machine. The recorder hits one of the walls with a short-lived thud, breaking into millions of pieces at the impact.

Sunggyu feels relief for a couple of seconds, but he falls back on his knees shortly after, expression changing to a desolated one. He's broken the only reminder of Woohyun's voice left on earth.

"No," he mutters, scooting closer to the useless pieces of wire and plastic lying on the floor. "No," he repeats when he touches one of the pieces, "No, No Nonono—"

(He ends up calling Dongwoo that day, curled up next to a bag full of the recorder made trash, pitiful sobs drowning his words once in a while. He claims he can't move out—move on.

"Not when I met him in this building, when this is the only place that reminds me of him, when I spent the best time of my life here. Because what if I'm gone and I forget the sound of his voice, the look of his face? What if I end up forgetting him?"

Or better yet,

what if he comes back?)

(Like he said, it was his fault Woohyun left.

It happened some time after Woohyun kissed him in the planetarium and showed him the bottle, full of small bright dots the star collector claimed weighted around three times his terrestrial weight each one. It happened some time after Woohyun showered him with endless kisses and Sunggyu felt his defenses crumbling apart and allowing the man to make himself a space on his heart.

It happened, but it wasn't mean to.

Sunggyu and Woohyun were fighting for silly and petty reasons (or more like Sunggyu was snapping at him and Woohyun was trying to defend himself). The star collector claimed he would stay on earth (on his side) despite his duty with the stars, there was another star collector in charge of earth to whom he could trust with the bottle anyway.

But Sunggyu refused to believe him. What if Woohyun decided he was tired of this place one day? Or that earth (or rather, life with Sunggyu) wasn't exciting enough? It had happened before, when Sunggyu was young and the person who promised wouldn't leave did exactly that, left. It took him years, but he was able to move on.

He, however, didn't think he would be able this time if Woohyun left.

The star collector leaned forward, hushing every kind of protest that came from Sunggyu's lips. He held Sunggyu on his arms, despite the man's constant movement, and muttered soothing words on his ears. But Sunggyu struggled, even though he knew Woohyun was stronger. Somehow he managed to push the other male away, with difficulties, but Woohyun pulled him and both fell.

(On top of the bottle inside the bag.)

They both groaned loudly, especially Woohyun, whose back was in contact with the broken glass. Sunggyu closed his eyes with the impact, but opened them back when he felt himself lying comforably on Woohyun's chest. He didn't pay attention to the sound of glass shattering. His doubts (and anger) were gone from his mind for a moment, replaced with Woohyun's hands on his waist and warm body. But the moment didn't last long.

In less than a second, Sunggyu felt himself pushed back on his feet. Woohyun cursed loudly, covering Sunggyu's eyes.

"Don't open your eyes," he ordered, hands strong against Sunggyu's skin. His voice was hoarse and desperate against his ear, low rumble clouding Sunggyu's confused mind. "For everything that you love, don't you dare to open them."

He obeyed, own hands climbing through his face and replacing Woohyun's. "What's going on?" He asked with his eyes still covered, heaviness characteristic of a bad feeling placed on his chest.

Woohyun took a long time to answer, but Sunggyu could hear him moving around the room. Through the cracks of his fingers, Sunggyu could see his apartment being illuminated. He was going to repeat the question, but Woohyun beat him to do it. "Maybe what you remember from school isn't so far off. Now that the bottle's broken."

Sunggyu realized he was the one who caused it. "Woohyun, I'm sorry—I—What do we—What have I—"

"Not time for that," Woohyun interrupted him. His tone was cutting, caustic enough to leave a scar. But, after he heard the next words coming from the star collector's mouth, Sunggyu knew they were also regretful. "The bag can keep them for a while but I," he paused, "I think I have to go, Sunggyu."

So he was leaving after all.

"Oh," he muttered, unable to say anything else. "Can you, can you make it?"

"You mean can I take them home before they boil the earth? I can."

The man with his eyes covered gulped, lump on his throat aching. "How long…" he trailed off, remainders of the question hanging in the air. He didn't want to ask; the fear of the answer was too strong, but he needed to know.

(How long will it take?)

Woohyun chuckled, unhappy. His voice was sad and painedl like that time when Sunggyu didn't belive him (Oh, it had been so easy. Why couldn't they go back to those days they wasted and start over?). "Years. thousands of them, Sunggyu. Heck, probably even millions."

The silence that followed was only overshadowed by a soft, howl-like sound that started to grow, coming from inside the bag. Sunggyu didn't open his eyes, but still stumbled towards the window. He felt numb with the suddeness of events. While he heard the star collector moving frenziedly across the apartment, probably looking for his clothes, Sunggyu wondered for a moment if this was a joke. Or a dream; it had to be a dream and Sunggyu would wake up next to Woohyun and laugh at the silliness. Because Woohyun had promised him, he had promised he would stay.

That day, Woohyun left with a the ghost of a kiss placed on his neck and an unspoken apology Sunggyu didn't pay attention to.)

It wasn't a dream. He realized it some nights before, when Woohyun's side of the small bed was empty and Sunggyu sat in front of the window like he is now, staring at the starless sky of the city.

Under his gaze, Seoul is bursting will life. The streets of are far more interesting than the ones from the town he came from. Different sounds bustle from every possible corner, especially on districts like Hongdae where life doesn't ever stop. It appears as if bubbling from the insides, from the core. The flow of cars of thousands of colors never stops. He recalls the fact that he never gets to see the same people on the street.

Sunggyu lets out a long, dragged sigh. He used to love that; when he first came to Seoul from his hometown, the city lights casted a spell on him he thought he would never be able to shake off. But Woohyun came, and with him, the realization that stars aren't visible from the city. The sky is so alive with artificial lights only the moon is able to shine, and stars aren't needed. It didn't matter to him at first, he had grown with a starred blanket hovering on the top of his head since young, back in the town where he was born.

He wouldn't mind losing it.

When Woohyun pointed it out one night (after pressing him against the window and making a writhing, incoherent mess out of him, and a harmony out of their bodies), however, he made the fact sound strangely saddening, strangely melancholic—Woohyun had that ability to play with tones and words at his convenience. And Sunggyu, for the first time in years, felt like missing the same starry sky he used to stare at during quiet summer nights when he was a kid.

But the point is that stars aren't visible from his window, and even though Sunggyu knows that even if the stars aren't visible, it doesn't mean they're not there (What he told Woohyun that night, between passive kisses and caresses he hoped they were comforting enough), he still feels that sense of emptiness. Woohyun must be somewhere up there, Sunggyu thinks. He also thinks that is been a year already, but shakes his head.

That is, until a shooting star crosses his view.

He rubs his eyes, astonished, and presses himsefl further against the glass. Could that be?—No, it's impossible that of all stars that cloud the sky at nights, one of them suddenly decides to appear. He goes back to his original place, discouraged. It must have been a helicopter or an airplane. But then again, what if it's not? He starts to second-guess himself.

There are contradictions on his mind, but he decides, for the second time—the first one being when he met Woohyun and decided to help him—that he has nothing to lose.

He doesn't waste any second to grab his apartment keys and exit his apartment.

(One night, after he was done with playing at Dongwoo's, and he brought Woohyun to walk around the streets of Seoul at night. The guy was surprised, letting out ooh's and aah's all the way through the stalls. He didn't stop telling Sunggyu how different it was for him. Seoul was full of people, full of life. They ended up buying food from different stalls and fooling around.

He took out the guitar of his case and sat next to Woohyun, on a park far from the heart of the city. They were gazing at the dim, barely-visible stars placed neatly on the slightly bright sky. Because they were lying on the grass, a bit far from the city lights, it was easier to see at least a bit of the glint.

"Are you able to see them at their brightest?" Woohyun asked. Sunggyu turned from the song he was intending to play. The male was lying on his back, eyes fixed on the sky and hands placed behind his head. Then, he looked up for a second and his eyes fell back to Woohyun.

"Yes," he mumbled, "if the power of the entire city goes out, you could see them."

Woohyun sat with a sudden movement, dissatisfied sigh escaping from his lips. "That's not what I meant." He turned to face Sunggyu, who was observing him. Before his curious stare, Woohyun shook his head. "Is there any other place in this planet where you can see a starry sky?"

Sunggyu noded. "In the countryside. There aren't as many lights as in here, so the sky is clearer." Then, he added, "especially on summer nights."

Woohyun must have noticed the slight switch on his expressions—at least Sunggyu knows he did—because then he smiled, seemingly content with the answer, and leaned back down. Sunggyu looked back at his guitar, shaking off his memories, and positioned his hands in place.

"What are you singing for us, artist?"

Sunggyu shrugged. "Whatever I feel like. I'm open for requests, too."

He expected the other male to reply with something about a request, like a sincere you were great tonight or a cheesy I'll love whatever you sing. But instead, Woohyun only smiled to him and said, "Someday you'll take me to the countryside, won't you?" And shortly after, "Sing about home.")

If he's right, Sunggyu will find the other star—stars, Woohyun would hiss—collector Woohyun mentioned some time ago (Why didn't he think of that before? It would have saved him months of desolation) and he will be able to see his lover at least one more time. And if he's wrong, well, he will just be another boy running around the street with a broken heart, like many in the world.

(Do star collectors grant wishes?)

He runs as fast as his legs allow him to. Where to? He doesn't know. It's irrational and unexplicable, just like that time he decided to help Eoohyun when he was hurt, or when he destroyed the recorder. But even so, Sunggyu runs and runs until he's out of breath and the streets he's used to lead him to an unknown place, hands clenching against his keys.

Looking around, he tries to find something remotely similar to the clothes Woohyun wore. There's nothing, the people mold into one big chunk of untelligible colors, none of the patterns popping out. He takes a deep breath. What if the star fell thousands of miles, of kilometers, far from the city, or the star collector has already parted? What will he do then? He's stupid to belive that, out of all the places in the world, it would be Seoul where the star crashed into.

And yet, against all the odds, he keeps walking. However, a couple of steps later, his ears catch some kind of commotion. Guided by the mumbles of the people, who walk past him in hurried steps, he starts moving, too. The whispers grow to an untelligible buzz as he makes his way towards the crowd forming at the end of the block.

What if—again, the same question he's been asking since he met a boy from another galaxy who took his heart and put it in a bottle with the stars, just what if?—this is what he thinks he is and the star is truly in here?

He makes his way through, pushing and kicking when it's necessary, and when he's finally at the front of the crowd, the sight makes his breath hitch. There's no star. There's a guy—the same guy he met last summer—with cuts and scratches like the last time, sitting on a crater. This time, though, it looks like he fell with more strength, and there's no bag or bottle in sight. But it's the same, the same as he's always been.

Woohyun.

i have the feeling i have a lot of things to say and forgot everything. tsk. anyway, what do you think of the last one-shot from star collector? did you like it, did you not? this was, personally, one of my favorites. and the ending was actually different, with woohyun not coming back and sunggyu moving on with his life, but nah, it was already 7k so i said it and left the story with no valuable lesson. sorry.

guys, it's been almost three months (with two and a half of me being mia) since this story started. it was awesome the response you gave, i'm really happy you stuck with me all this time and beared with my mistakes and lack of experience. really, thank you.

so, this is the end. any thoughts? did you have one-shots you liked more than others, (i'm sure i did, but they're my ba~bies), or one-shots you didn't like? tell me everything you want in your comments! and seriously, thank you for reading. (…waaait, i just said that, anyway. it's the truth.)