Nam Soon grunted as he hefted another large heavy box out the back of a van and carried it into a warehouse, straining to see over the top of the cardboard. Out of all the jobs he’d done, this one was without a doubt the most physically exhausting. He’d been at this for almost an hour now, and every box seemed to get heavier than the last as his muscles strained and his arms ached with an insistent throb. 6:30am was far too early for this .

Setting down the box on the warehouse floor by the others, Nam Soon stood and lent backwards, stretching out his back and then swinging his arms, trying to dull the aches in his body. Sweat was making his fringe stick to his forehead and the back of his neck felt like it’d become home to a leaky shower.

He felt like he could drink a gallon of water in one long gulp, but he just swiped the sweat from his face and headed back outside to collect the next box. He pulled a box along the van floor, then used a knee to heft it up into his arms, hands wrapping around it as securely as he could as he carried it to the warehouse. Seriously, what did they have in these things that were making them so damn heavy?

This time, he almost dropped it as he set it down, but was able to get his grip just in time so it landed with only a small thunk.

“Aish,” Nam Soon muttered to himself. “They’re not paying me enough for this.”

He needed a break; if he carried on he was sure to drop the next one. Leaning against the mini-mountain of cardboard boxes Nam Soon pulled out his phone, searching through his contacts until he reached Heung Soo and sent off a message:

If you never hear from me again, check the large ugly looking warehouse near the river, you’ll find my body half fallen in a box. (ㅠ_ㅠ)

It only took a few minutes for his phone to beep its reply:

I’m not trekking after you. Have fun decomposing (^_^)v

Nam Soon was quick to text back, stabbing at the keypad with more force than strictly necessary:

You’re a ty friend. I’ve been dragging around boxes for an hour alone and more of the damn things keep coming. Come help, bastard.

The reply wasn’t very uplifting:

No. (^_^)

Nam Soon made to scowl, but it came out more as a pout. What a . Fine, if he wanted to play it that way…

Either get here or I’ll tell everyone at school about that time when you spent a weekend in drag.

Feeling pretty damn pleased with himself, Nam Soon waited for the no doubt colourful text from Heung Soo. But… nothing came. The grin slipped from Nam Soon’s face. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Has he genuinely pissed Heung Soo off?

He bit his bottom lip, contemplating sending a ‘sorry’. Aish, why should he? Heung Soo was just being a , he completely deserved that.

Besides, he’d better get back to work, the van still had four more boxes in it, and he’s willing to bet more will arrive. Not to mention the boss liked to check in on him randomly, probably to make sure he wasn’t stealing things. Honestly, he’d be insulted in only he hadn’t stolen before.

Slipping his phone back into his pocket, Nam Soon once again headed out to the van.

Another half hour past and Nam Soon was right about another van. He was about ready to call it quits, screw the money. All this heavy lifting is for a horse, not a person. Hell, even a horse would be stamping it’s hooves by now.

Still, never let it be said that Go Nam Soon isn’t a stubborn bastard. So he continued, and on his way to grab another box (the goddamn endless stream of them!) he was startled from his sour thoughts by a shout.

“You have no proof!”

Surprised, Nam Soon swung around to see Heung Soo walking over, hands shoved in his hoodie pockets and the laces on his right trainer falling loose.

Heung Soo was here. Nam Soon thought he’d pissed him off, but here he was, strolling over like he’d agreed to meet Nam Soon here from the start like he’d asked.

“Huh?” Was his intelligent greeting.

“Proof,” Heung Soo said, now close enough to punch Nam Soon in the chest, which he did with a grin. “You have no proof that I dressed as a girl, therefore it didn’t happen.”

Nam Soon smirked and let the punch slide; he was just pleased to see Heung Soo. “You seem to be forgetting that phone’s have cameras.” And okay, he didn’t actually have any photos, but Heung Soo didn’t need to know that.

The other boy’s eyes widened comically. “Are you serious?!” He made a lunge for Nam Soon’s waist, trying the find his phone in one of his pockets, but Nam Soon dodged, laughing at him. “Yah! Give me your phone you bastard!”

“Ask nicely,” Nam Soon cooed mockingly, delighted with this turn of events. “Say ‘please can I have your phone, oppa’.”

Heung Soo tackled him instead, knocking him onto his back and Nam Soon barely had a second to register the pain in his head before Heung Soo’s weight hit him as the taller boy fell on his chest.

Nam Soon hissed in pain, lifting his head and feeling it to make sure it wasn’t bleeding. It wasn’t, but it hurt enough to make his eyes sting. He focused on Heung Soo, ready to thump the bastard right on the nose, but then froze when he realised how close they were. Heung Soo’s face was just inches away, close enough for their breath to mingle and suddenly Nam Soon didn’t know what the hell was going on because his heart was beating too fast, his mind was blank, there was an odd feeling somewhere in his chest and Heung Soo wasn’t moving. Why wasn’t Heung Soo moving? Why wasn’t Nam Soon making Heung Soo move? He laid there on the ground and stared at his friend and he should be pushing him off, he knew that, but he just… wasn’t.

They watched each other and Nam Soon didn’t know how long for because time had come to a standstill - or it was crashing and colliding like a stormy sea. He didn’t know which but time must be breaking the laws of the universe because a second and an hour was happening at the exact same moment - and since when exactly were Heung Soo’s eyes that brown? A shade of brown that suddenly made white too dark and black too bright and everything in Nam Soon’s thoughts to turn in on itself until all that was everything were those too brown eyes. And-

“Nam Soon-ah.” Heung Soo murmured, throat sounding raw, voiced pitched too low, and suddenly Nam Soon snapped out of it. He’d pushed Heung Soo aside and gotten to his feet before he’d even thought of moving.

Heung Soo was still on the ground, but Nam Soon barley noticed because what was that? He must have hit his head harder than he’d thought or something because lying on the ground with somebody on top of you thinking about the colour brown was hardly an everyday, sane activity. There was certainly no other reason for a racing heart and unwanted thoughts. Absolutely not.

Heung Soo was getting up now, and for the first time since they reconciled Nam Soon felt awkward being near him, out of place like he wasn’t sure if he was stood too close, or too far away, or if he was going to say the wrong thing.

“Nam Soon-ah,” Heung Soo said again and his voice still sounded wrong. Too quite, too low, too much something Nam Soon didn’t want to try to decipher. “I-”

“There are no pictures.” Nam Soon cut him off because he really, really didn’t want to hear what Heung Soo wanted to say and he didn’t know why because he didn’t know what he was going to say, but he didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want to hear words that can come from that tone; that soft, low, wary tone that held too much emotion and it just seemed breakable, as though if Heung Soo said whatever words were locked behind his lips something would break, something between them would shatter into pieces Nam Soon could never put back together again, and he’d worked too hard, too hard, for things to change. He just couldn’t hear words he didn’t understand, didn’t know the meaning of, words that would break this friendship in a way he didn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t understand. “I’m sorry. I know it was just a stupid bet. I didn’t take any pictures. I’m sorry.”

And he was apologizing for more than a silly bet between two fourteen year olds, he knew that, but he wasn’t sure what exactly it was also for. It was a sorry for everything that couldn’t be said, everything that he couldn’t understand.

“Nam Soon-ah,” Heung Soo said again, and Nam Soon saw Heung Soo's scrapped hands from breaking his fall and he watched the small beads of blood because he couldn’t look at his face. Everything was off-kilter, the world was spinning out of control causing thoughts and emotions to crash and spin and twist and Nam Soon felt motion sickness from it all.

He wanted to get away from Heung Soo, wanted to run from him again. He felt like a coward all over again, like he’d just broken another limb but this time he wasn’t sure if it was Heung Soo’s or his.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, and for the second time, he ran from Heung Soo.