I didn’t really know how to stay away.

That was why I set up camp on Ryeowook’s back steps. The sun had dropped a while ago and the only flicker of light came from lightning bugs and the random lamp fixtures shining from his neighbors.

Sometime around seven in the evening, Ryeowook rounded the side of the house. I stood up, watching him come towards me. “Out and about this late? Do you have a life that I don’t know about?” I raised an eyebrow, studying him as he unlocked the door, letting us in. He wasn’t answering me, so I sat down at the kitchen table, waiting patiently for him to say something.

Once the stove was on and dinner was apparently reheating, he turned around to look at me. No matter how cute I thought he was all the time, I couldn’t deny the stony fury on his face at that moment. “Choi Siwon.”

“Where did you hear that?” I answered without missing a beat.

Ryeowook pulled his phone out, “He took it from me. I met him today to get it back.” He paused, lips parting and coming together again hesitantly. “…He said some weird things and asked me about—”

“—don’t meet him again,” I cut in. “He’s ing in the big leagues. Getting involved in his world is a death sentence.”

“I’m not stupid,” Ryeowook spat. I blinked in surprise. That was the first time I had seen him snap back at me. He shut his eyes as if regaining composure and then said, “I know that he’s a criminal.”

“…What did he say to you?” I shifted topics. I had been with Ryeowook for two and a half years already. It was easy to tell when he was disturbed because it happened so infrequently. What could Siwon have said to get under his skin like that?

Ryeowook whirled on his heel, picking up a ladle and stirring the stew again. I came up behind him, placing my hands on either side of the counter. “What did Siwon say to you?” I repeated, eyeing him seriously.

“He…,” Ryeowook tilted his head back to look at me, “just asked me to answer some questions about law enforcement. I didn’t know what to say.”

“That’s it?” I pressed.

“Yeah.”

“Okay,” I nodded slowly, letting my arms drift away from the counter to wind around his slender abdomen. I tugged him a bit back, unsure why I was craving intimacy. Being with Mir had absolved me of boredom, but being with Ryeowook was something entirely different. He made me think things and desire things no one else knew how to reach. It wasn’t love. It was attraction in the most sincere sense of the word.

Sadly, it was one-sided.

Ryeowook didn’t pull away nor did he relax in my arms. Somehow, he made it feel like I wasn’t even there.

Silently, I released him as bowls of food were served. We sat down across from each other and I didn’t ask because I knew what he was thinking. No matter how many times it happened, Ryeowook disliked his father working so much. I learned that a while back when I came by uninvited and he did the same thing he was doing this night – keeping me around with silent wishes.

He loathed company and yet he didn’t know how to live without it. At these times, it wasn’t small talk that filled the void; it was the clanking of spoons and random creaks and groans of the house and night.

I wouldn’t call what we did social or even friendly. Mutual need was a better description. Ryeowook couldn’t admit it and neither could I, but both of us clearly understood that sometimes physical companionship was important. That didn’t mean I tried to feel him up every second, instead we just sort of stayed in each other’s company.

Saddest thing was, this had to be the closest either of us had ever gotten to friendship with anyone.

He refused to befriend people in school – I mean, why would he?

People refused to befriend me in school – again, why would they?

Along the way to growing up, we had managed to stay alone together. We’re just a pair of screwed up losers and everyone knows it.

I kept hold of Ryeowook’s hand as we headed upstairs. His backside was so thin and smooth, I wanted to touch it. That was the extent, though. If I did anything to break the moment, he would be kicking me back down the stairs.

Once inside his room, he kicked off his socks, and swiftly changed in pajamas. I only caught glimpses of bare skin, before he was done and climbing onto the other side of the bed. He grabbed the television remote, powering on the monitor and flipping channels until we reached some cheesy drama.

I propped the pillow up behind us and pulled him into my arms. Ryeowook let his head drop against my shoulder, mainly because I was practically cradling him. My lips hovered over his head, brushing over the soft locks.

He didn’t say anything, only pulling the blankets over us. I wrapped my free arm around his waist, closing the leftover distance between us. “This show is stupid as ,” I muttered.

Ryeowook nodded a little. “The girl is annoying.”

“The girl is always annoying,” I rolled my eyes, absently running my thumb over his hip.

“…What do you think of justice?” he suddenly asked.

I frowned, tucking his head under my chin as I thought. “It’s as annoying as that girl.”

“So you think it exists?”

“Yeah, otherwise I wouldn’t have a parole officer.”

No reply came and I stupidly assumed it was because he didn’t have anything to say.