Youngwoon relaxed into the uncomfortable, economy class seat, stretching his legs as far as they would go in the limited foot space between seats. He’d have upgraded to business class if he had the money, but alas, he could only afford these two cheap seats – and they weren’t even next to the window. He had an old man asleep on his left shoulder, and his best friend asleep on his right. Sadly, the old man smelt like old milk, and he was cuddling Youngwoon like a plush toy. He had no way of escaping, blocked in on both sides. He hated aisle seats.

He was en route to China, a night flight. It was only a short trip, and he didn’t mind flying, but he felt nervous. The cabin was quiet, save for the deep, rumbling snores of the man seated four rows back. Youngwoon could never sleep on planes, they made him anxious, years of serving in the air force had made him alert and suspicious, and watching people sleep wasn’t so bad. 

He shrugged the old man off his shoulder, none too gently, and shifted in his seat once again, trying not to jolt his best friend as much as possible. They were on vacation from work, both working for the same company. It would save money if they went together – or, that’s what he told Jungsu when he’d suggested the break. Truthfully he just wanted to be alone with the guy for a while, even if it meant being overseas. 

Whenever he tried to get closer to Jungsu, there’d always be someone there to get in the way. He worked in an office – a world away from his previous occupation – and he hated it. The people, the work, the coffee machine, all of it. The only reason he didn’t leave was Jungsu. 

The bright, sunny smile the older man would send him every morning, brightening his day with his home-brewed coffee that he managed to make him without fail, it managed to keep him going through the day; even with the irritating, squeaky voice of the woman in the office cubicle one-over as she squawked down her cell phone; and even when Kim Heechul accidently sent an obscene email to him, intended for his boyfriend; and even when said Kim Heechul visited his cubicle later that day and decided to dish out all the dirty details. 

Jungsu’s smile was enough to stop him from going insane.

But for all the times he’d told himself his feelings were totally platonic, that it was merely admiration for a fellow co-worker, he knew he was lying. He was in love.

But he didn’t act on his feelings, didn’t take that leap and tell the older man how he felt, because Jungsu was married. Happily married at that, and Youngwoon wasn’t going to make a fool of himself. He’d keep his feelings to himself, stay by his side as a friend, see that smile everyday.

It was enough.

He watched Jungsu’s eyes flutter under his eyelids as he slept, a lazy smile on his lips, and Youngwoon wanted to cover them with his own. The lights dimmed in the cabin, the cabin crew filing down the aisles with blankets and bottles of water, and Youngwoon took a blanket for Jungsu, tucking it around him tightly. 

Youngwoon stretched out, and Jungsu shifted in his sleep, moving to rest his head on the armrest instead of Youngwoon’s shoulder. He stood, finally able to move without waking the two sleeping figures on either side of him, and quietly walked to the small plane toilet for a much needed toilet break.

-

Jungsu stirred, yawning quietly and blinking the sleep away. He and Youngwoon had driven to the airport horrendously early to make the flight, only to be delayed and stuck in the waiting area for the rest of the day, and he’d fallen asleep as soon as he’d sat down on the plane. Looking around, the cabin was quiet and dark, and Youngwoon wasn’t in his seat. 

And by God, that old man really did smell. 

He sat up, pulling his blanket a little tighter around himself. The plane was freezing cold, being at a high altitude, and he smiled to himself; Youngwoon must’ve got a blanket for him.

He’d met the younger man two years ago. He’d been rushing around the office when he’d walked into – as he thought it to be – a wall, a wall that turned out to be Youngwoon, covered in coffee and looking like he was in serious pain. Unbeknown to the younger man, Jungsu had followed him around since that day, making sure he came in at just the right time to catch him in the cafeteria, and doing jobs for other people just to get near him. He’d brought a flask of coffee in one day, not having enough change for the coffee machine, and he’d offered him some as an ice breaker. He made it every day without fail after that, because he’d never felt so proud as when Youngwoon told him it was the best he’d ever tasted.

Before he’d met Youngwoon, his marriage had been stable. It was arranged, but he didn’t mind. He knew he’d never really settle down otherwise, and he thought he’d come to love his wife as time went on. She was pretty, intelligent, everything he should want in a woman, but he didn’t love her, and when he met Youngwoon, he learnt why. Youngwoon was different to a friend, he made him excited to go to work, and eventually he’d stopped going home afterwards, staying at his house after work and facing his furious wife when he dragged himself through the door at 2am in the morning. 

She got pregnant soon after he’d started staying away. She said she’d missed her pill, but Jungsu knew she was trying to secure their relationship, trying to keep him from leaving her, and it worked. This vacation was his break, a breath of fresh air where he wouldn’t have to go home to accusations of cheating and have to look after his hormonal wife every hour of the day. Just him and Youngwoon.

There was a jolt, and Jungsu in a breath. He hated planes, but Youngwoon had assured him nothing would happen, so he’d agreed to come along. But Youngwoon wasn’t there right then, and he could feel a panic attack coming on. A calm, deep voice rumbled overhead; assuring him that it was just turbulence, but the cabin crew sat at the front looked flustered. 

They kept whispering to each other, and they disappeared behind the curtain at the front of the compartment. Jungsu looked around the plane, everyone was still asleep, seemingly undisturbed by the sudden motion. There was movement in his peripheral, and he relaxed when he saw Youngwoon making his way back to their seat.

‘You’re awake.’ he said, sitting down gently, as not to wake the old man beside him.

‘Did you feel the plane shake?’ Jungsu asked, and Youngwoon smiled reassuringly.

‘It was just turbulence.’

‘The flight attendants looked worried,’ Jungsu said, and Youngwoon shook his head reassuringly.

‘You’re thinking too much, go back to sleep.’ Jungsu opened his mouth to argue, but Youngwoon placed a strong hand on his arm and pulled him close to lean on his shoulder, and with a sense of finality he repeated himself. ‘Sleep.’

---

Youngwoon lied. There was definitely something wrong. He’d heard a flight attendant whisper to another outside of the toilet about a malfunction, and how they needed to check what was happening with the pilot. Jungsu didn’t need to know, though; he was scared of flying enough as it was, he wasn’t going to bring on a heart attack.

But now, as the cabin shook violently and the lights started to flicker, he wondered if he should just wake Jungsu up again, tell him everything. Tell him that he loved him, that he was the reason he woke up in the morning.

And as the plane plummeted toward the black ocean below, Youngwoon curled his arms around Jungsu and pulled him close to his chest. Because Youngwoon’s feelings were insignificant compared to the situation, and if Jungsu was going to die, he wanted it to be peaceful. He didn’t need to feel the panic and the terror of falling, of knowing he was about to leave his family behind, to hear the screams and shrieks of the other passengers as masks fell from the luggage compartments.

Youngwoon wanted Jungsu to stay safe and secure deep in his dreams, even if it meant he’d die not knowing how he felt.

But he was too selfish. Jungsu’s eyes fluttered open, maybe a moment before they hit the hard sea below, and Youngwoon couldn’t resist.

I love you. 

The last words he ever spoke, but Jungsu couldn’t hear them, even if Youngwoon’s lips were pressed to his ear; because the sea was so much louder as it crashed around them; and as the cabin broke apart, he only wished he’d said those three words, because maybe then his life would have been worth living.