"You should get this."

Jiyong eagerly planted the white sweater on his best friend.  They were backstage, away from prying eyes, at one of the year’s most coveted clothing trade show events – Paris Fashion Week.  The fine cotton was heavily compacted and handmade, thick and intricately woven.  It was still part of the designer's original collection and had yet to make its debut on the fashion runway.  He studied the shorter man with a critical eye and nodded approvingly to himself.

"Yeah, you should definitely get this."

"Yeah?" Youngbae asked, raising a blonde brow.  He lightly the pristine fibers against his chest.  It felt heavenly smooth and soft all over.  Just like butter.  “The design is nice.  Clean.”  Removing his fingers, lest he mar the fabric, Youngbae jutted his chin out towards Jiyong.  “You should get one, too.”

"Me?"

"Yeah."

"Nah,” Jiyong shook his head regrettably.  He eyed the width of the arm span, the tuffs of the sleeves.  “It’ll fit your frame better than mine.”  To further emphasize his point, Jiyong raised the garment higher on Youngbae’s chest and pinned it against his shoulders.  “See?  Your chest is broader.”  His eyes appreciatively scanned the mass of corded muscles before pulling the cloth away.  “It’ll just swim on me,” Jiyong murmured quietly.  With great reluctance, he turned around and hung the sweater back on the clothing rack.

A wry smile tugged on Youngbae’s lips.  “Swim?  If you’re swimming... then I’m drowning.”  He grinned widely as Jiyong chuckled.  “Just get it,” Youngbae urged, moving towards the line of clothes.  He scooted around his friend and the sweater that was just recently put back.  “Wear it.  And I’ll wear this one,” he said, touching the garment next to it.  It was of similar design, same fabric and care.  “Tell hyung we want to wear these.”

"You sure?"

The hopeful sound in Jiyong’s voice made Youngbae smile inwardly to himself.  He could tell how much his friend loved the clothes.  Loved them… just as much as he did.  “Neh,” Youngbae nodded, his small eyes sparkling warmly.  It pleased him to see Jiyong so happy. 

"I'm sure."

∙∙∙ † ∙∙∙

"Ahhh...  Youngbae-yah!"

A low chuckle came from within the hotel room.

"Don't you wish we could live here?" Jiyong sighed wistfully.  Half-past midnight, the air felt pleasantly chilled and crisp.  His voice intermingled with the distant sound of honking car horns and buzzing traffic that came from several feet below. 

Youngbae tossed his phone on the nightstand and headed towards their shared walk-out patio.  He smiled at the sight of Jiyong's upturned face.  Baby smooth and porcelain, the color in his friend's cheeks had finally returned.  He had worried that their back-to-back schedule had taken a toll on the younger man.  With little moment to rest and nearly zero time to eat, Jiyong had opted to fuel on cigarettes whenever he received the chance.  Yet it appeared the stress of their day faded away with every single breath Jiyong took.  His eyes were closed, his arms spread wide open.  With his weight heavily braced against the balcony rail, Jiyong looked carefree and ready to fly.

Anchoring his hands along the iron rod banister, Youngbae quietly scanned the horizon before them.  From his view, he could see the glorious night life that Paris had to offer.  But nothing more so than the very life standing beside him.  He turned towards his friend, who appeared to be still filled with ecstasy.  A faint smile curved his lips as he watched wind ruffle through Jiyong's blue-streaked bangs.  He could start to feel it... that inner peace.  Some of Jiyong's good vibrations were beginning to rub off on him.

"There's too much pasta here," Youngbae complained in a dead-panned voice.  He turned away and stared straight ahead.

The corners of Jiyong's mouth twitched.  He opened his eyes and stared into at the endless night sky.

"And the girls are too tall."

Jiyong grinned, the pinks of his gum line appearing.

"And I have to pay every time I need to take a ."

Silent laughter racked Jiyong's thin frame.  He doubled over, hyperventilating quietly.

Youngbae released a heavy sigh.  He managed to keep up the façade for a few seconds before the sound of Jiyong's choking snorts finally did him in.  With a sudden grunt, Youngbae huskily laughed - bobbing his head up and down.  He clasped his hands together and adjusted his forearms on the rail.  The grin on his face faded away as his eyes took in the city lights from afar.  It was hard to not be in awe of such a beautiful sight.

The faint whoosh of airplanes taxiing rumbled in the distance.  If they listened carefully, the could hear the patrons walking across the street.  Some - conversing rapidly with one another.  But for the most part, the city was quiet.

Serene.

"We should come again next year."

"What if we don't get invited?"

Jiyong shrugged without a care.  "We should still come."

A soft chuckle.

"You could get that apartment by the Seine River.  Listen to your music all day."

Youngbae grinned.

A comfortable silence settled between them.

"You don't want to live here, Ji."

Jiyong arched a brow.  He stared at Youngbae's profile, watching as his friend continued speaking straight ahead.

"You'd be lonely.  And you'd miss your family if you lived here."  After a lengthy silence, Youngbae glanced over - only to find Jiyong staring at him oddly.

"You're my family, Youngbae-yah," Jiyong drunkenly grinned.  He hooked his arm around Youngbae's neck and leaned into him.  He