Count it Backwards

 

’Patience is a virtue’

 

Jung Daehyun had learnt that from an early age.

 

One has to be patient for whatever you want to come to your way, because the path leading to you might be full of rocks and with a sharp corner or two. ‘The one’ will probably face some misleading signs along the way and perhaps some irresistible distractions. Therefore, if you stress whoever, urge him, force him to go on… he might get lost in confusion and never find his directions on the road to you again.

 

There are no shortcuts in approaching a beating heart. The heart is the center of those who walks on earth and despite being well protected by bones and flesh; it is actually very… very fragile. So surprisingly easy to cut through, all you need is a sharp end, a careless flick and it will start to bleed before your own eyes. And at that particular moment, someone has been scarred in the supposed happy time of two.

 

To point out or even give a hint of a shortcut will be the first symptom of impatience, and once it kicks in it weighs down your heart with something that might be impure. A little bit dark and a little bit selfish. A heart like that, extending its strings in hopes of forming a lasting tune is bound to fail sooner or later. The song will eventually play unpretty over raised voices and around insults intentionally thrown out to hurt. Then… somewhat bittersweetly, when your shoes are the only ones standing in the dim-lit doorway you will sit and think of all the ‘could have been’. At some point you’ll try to move on, but you can’t. As much as you’d like to think of taking one step to somewhere, everywhere, you literally can’t. Well, when your world narrows down to one person, one person only, how is it then possible to go anywhere else? What will be left then? Other than regret, what’s left for you hold on to?

 

Daehyun didn’t want that. He wanted to be patient. Some people were patient by nature; you know those who listened even if their ears bled. While others snapped at each and every word within their range. Daehyun admitted that he wasn’t in the category of the first mentioned. An unfortunate thing really. But he wasn’t one of the latter either. After all, he was more than willing to learn, to work hard and to become… well, a patient individual. Because the moment he became visible in his fated one’s eyes, his entire being would feel that it was worth it. That it would be worth every second he was kept waiting.

 

A wise person, also known as his mother had once told him to count to ten. It takes ten seconds to calm your mind. Ten numbers for the rush of emotions to die out. Therefore, if one could count to ten without pausing or hunch his back in defeat, then surely he has succeeded. Ten seconds can change your whole life around. With each number follows an achievement or realization, it could be something enormous or something trivial, it was all the same. And the feeling once you reach ten is truly indescribable; as if you’ve overcome life and the times that now remained were only those happy and content.

 

The good ones.

 

Daehyun counted to ten, slowly and sometimes a bit unsurely with his eyes closed. Still he made it. And once the sparkling one and zero flashed before his eyes, he realized there was nowhere else he wanted to be.

 

Nowhere else, only here…

 

If Daehyun was to go back in time and do it all again, he would like to keep everything the same. There were times where he felt hurt, in doubt and on the borderline of giving up, but at the same time there was something that kept him counting. Something that convinced him to put a little faith in the person he had long ago let creeping into his heart.

 

And he listened.

 

Play his life all over, count it backwards and he’d tell you that he wouldn’t change a thing.

 

Then while you are at it, ask him if he’s happy. He’d probably give you a shy smile before his eyes locked to his feet, and then to unconsciously make it all a tiny bit sweeter… he’d glance up through his bangs and say: “Is it that obvious?”

 

If it was, then at least he would know that he could blame it all on Yoo Youngjae.

 

***

 

10. It takes him three seconds to open his eyes and greet the sunlight peeking through the curtains, it takes him another seven, because he was slow like that to register the warmth he was so comfortably embedded in. Altogether it took him ten seconds to finally turn his head and take in the view he thought he could definitely get used to. Definitely. Ruthlessly, it took his breath away, yet it made him feel at ease at the same time. Like a dilemma, a fenced circle he could not escape from.

 

But surprisingly, or perhaps not – Daehyun wasn’t searching for an escape. Actually, he would be perfectly satisfied waking up everyday next to a peaceful and lightly snoring Youngjae. He was torn between snapping a picture for printing purposes, to let the whole town know about what they surely couldn’t have and to never let anyone as much as get a glimpse of what he was seeing now. To show or to lock up, he was torn like that.

 

Memories from last night came flooding as his eyes travelled over milky white skin, heat in the form a blush surfaced on his cheeks and continued down his neck as he examined the trail of marks on Youngjae’s nape down to his chest. His teeth dug into the flesh of his bottom lip and he found himself unable to tear his eyes away from the piece of temporary art that bore his signature. His.

 

Youngjae was truly beautiful. Imperfect, yet also perfect if that could even make sense.

 

Daehyun turned to lie on his chest, feeling embarrassed, he hid his smile in the soft material of the white pillow. If Youngjae woke up and saw him now, he would surely be scolded for being ridiculous, too struck and considerably out of hand.

 

The mattress suddenly moved slightly as the other let out a chain of soft groans, slowly gaining consciousness. Daehyun turned his head and with more affection than anything he counted the heartbeats until he could see brown orbs behind fluttering eyelids.

 

He smiled at how Youngjae’s eyes kept on blinking, trying to get over the blurry contrast between night and day.

 

Gently, he reached over to brush the strands of hair tickling Youngjae’s eyes to the side. It was meant to be brief, but once he felt soft and warm skin beneath his fingers – he couldn’t seem to pull away. In the earliest of mornings his hand started its journey, beginning at Youngjae’s left cheek and then it slid down the contour of the younger ‘s ear. From there it soon moved to scratch and tug lightly at the hair on the back of Youngjae’s head. Contently, the pads of his fingers traced over smooth skin, from the shoulder all the way down to Youngjae’s abdomen where it lingered at its final destination. He lifted his gaze and could tell from the pensive look on Youngjae’s face how his mind was slowly organizing past events and its changes.  The pros and cons, the risks and the possible gains flashed before Youngjae’s eyes and mirrored in his own. Daehyun could lividly imagine it, Youngjae standing on a road before a pillar with signs pointing at every direction, utterly torn and unable to make a decision of which way to go. Perhaps, he should feel worried. But he didn’t.

 

Call him confident, or why not over-confident or naïve, he would even settle for stupid. But now that he had come this far, now that he was at the end, or maybe it was the beginning depending on how you looked at it, he was sure all signs would eventually lead to him.

 

After all, a princess only has one prince. Only one fated love, whether he was dressed in plain t-shirts or embroidered coats did not matter, neither did the count until his appearance. It could happen somewhere between one to ten, or even as far as at a hundred. It shouldn’t matter and it really didn’t, because the count stops at him.

 

He smiled tenderly. “Morning.”

 

Youngjae swallowed visibly, flustered at the lack of shields between them, with clothes discarded and them sharing the space of his humble bed even the thick layer of his blanket couldn’t help him deny their intimacy. “It’s creepy seeing your face this close in the morning,” he mumbled hoarsely, his voice still coated with sleep.

 

Daehyun chuckled lightly. “Then don’t look,” he retorted simply.

 

A few moments later, Youngjae muttered a barely audible: “Fine,” before he turned over. Daehyun was facing his back and it could have seemed cold, but Daehyun knew better. Just like everything else regarding Yoo Youngjae, he knew better. A pale shade of red slowly filled the expanse of uncovered skin before him and like a bird twittering in his ear; it told him to embrace Youngjae in his arms. So he did. His arms snuck around the younger’s warm body and pulled it flush against himself. He pressed his lips against the back of Youngjae’s neck, marking it slowly with chaste and tender kisses.

 

“My lower back hurts,” Youngjae mumbled and Daehyun could tell the other was pouting. “It’s your fault. Everything is your fault.

 

“I’m sorry,” the elder said and absentmindedly drew soothing circles with his hand on Youngjae’s stomach.

 

“’Sorry’ is not good enough.”

 

Daehyun couldn’t help but smile against Youngjae’s shoulder. “Then what do you want?”

 

“You’re weird,” the younger said distantly after a long while, as if conversing with himself, “so far from normal. The majority of your brain is filled with food and the rest is about ways to fill that bottomless stomach of yours.” Daehyun pondered on whether to defend himself or not, but in the end he just let the other continue. “You use your dialect and charm to your advantage. You’re not particularly strong and you’re afraid of heights. Then on top of all that, you’re an idiot.” Youngjae sighed heavily. “So why do I even….” The words faded abruptly and admittedly left the elder boy in wonder.

 

“Why do you even what?” He moved on top of Youngjae, straddled the other as he made him turn to lie on his back. “Why do you even what?” he asked again, drowning in expressive eyes.

 

His upper body lowered over Youngjae, until they were almost pressed chest to chest and his lips were fleeting  only inches above addictive ones. The air around them seemed to change in an instant, their breathing suddenly turned hot and heavy while eyes were filled with a sultriness that could not be repressed.

 

Youngjae lifted his chin slightly, causing their lips to brush ever so softly. “What if I want something I shouldn’t?”

 

His voice trembled, but Daehyun understood. He always did.

 

“You’re not.” He closed the remaining distance between them and pressed their lips together, pouring all his feelings into one kiss. “So I’ll give you everything.”

 

Say that they were right, say that they were wrong and Daehyun wouldn’t give a damn.

 

At 10 they were inevitable.

 

***

 

9. Being in love, Daehyun figured was like breathing new life into your arms and legs, his always seemed to find their way around Youngjae. To hold, to hug and to touch, it all happened within his consciousness yet he couldn’t stop it. It was as if his body, well actually all of him yearned to express what he felt through the simplest of actions. When his hand trailed up and down the younger’s back without being swatted away he could allow himself to think that his feelings were being returned in the exact way he wanted them to. And it made him happy, beyond words. 

 

He had come so far, almost at the end.

 

“Hey, I need a new textbook for English.” Youngjae turned to Daehyun and spun the pencil between his fingers with great finesse. “Want to tag along to the mall after school?”

 

The word ‘Sure’ was just at the tip of his tongue when it regrettable changed course, “Supplement class.” He gave Youngjae an apologetic smile.

 

“Oh, right. I forgot,” Youngjae said then turned back to face the front. Daehyun felt slightly down for missing out on time with the other and the trace of disappointment in the younger’s voice only made him feel worse. Inwardly, he cursed. Of course Youngjae didn’t need supplement classes, in fact being the ace in every subject he wasn’t even allowed anywhere near those. Daehyun pouted despite himself— being brainy surely had its perks.

 

“Maybe I should ask Jongup then.” Daehyun heard the other mumble to himself.

 

“No.” His voice suddenly turned sharp, surprising the both of them. Youngjae even dropped his pen.

 

“What do you mean by ‘no’?” those deer-like eyes blinked in confusion. “Why can’t I bring Jongup?”

 

It wasn’t that Daehyun had anything against Jongup. Not at all, actually he rather liked his ever smiling friend. It was just that sometimes when it came to Youngjae being the way he was, Daehyun couldn’t help but feel the need to be a little possessive.

 

After all, he was so close.

 

“Go by yourself.” He was getting worked up and…aish, how frustrating— “Or wait ‘til I finish. It’s only until 4:30.”

 

He knew the suggestion wouldn’t be well received; still there was a little flick of hope thoroughly baked in the subtle excitement in his last sentence.

 

And it burnt out pretty quickly too.

 

“I’m not going to wait more than an hour for you, you twit.” Youngjae gave him an incredulous look. “Aish— I might as well go by myself then.”

 

It was understandable, but it did irk him to be shot down so unhesitantly. Daehyun looked over at Youngjae and thought how the other should be grateful that his eyelashes were so long, his cheeks so cute and his entire being so lovable. The elder huffed and looked away. How pathetic, he couldn’t even be annoyed with the other.

 

Yoo Youngjae had it far too easy.

 

***                                                                                                                                        

 

The hallways were almost empty, spared for a couple of friends that hung around and loudly discussed what level of awesome their current phone was at, but soon they left too. Daehyun pulled out his own phone, 16:38 the screen said in big numbers. His thumb slid across and with uses fingers, he started to compose a text to a certain fool.

 

“You’re late.” Daehyun jumped at the voice, barely catching his phone thus preventing it to smock the ground. He spun on his heels and didn’t even bother to hide his surprise when he saw Youngjae casually leaning against the opposite wall, backpack hanging loosely on one shoulder.

 

“What are you still doing here?” he asked once he composed himself.

 

The older of the two had hunch regarding the reason, but thought how nice it would be to actually hear it.

 

A simple confirmation and he’d be over the moon.  

 

Youngjae’s eyes narrowed. “What do you think?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “You made me wait and then had the gall to be late. Yah— are you even listening to me?!”

 

He was. But he was also busy grinning like a loon.

 

“What are you looking so happy about?” Youngjae kicked himself off the wall and adjusted the bag over his shoulder before approaching Daehyun. “Jung Daehyun, aren’t you going to apologize for your tardiness?” Youngjae tried to look annoyed, but Daehyun could make out the small smile tugging at his lips. “Why do I even put up with you…”

 

Daehyun wouldn’t say that he had Youngjae all figured out. Frankly, no one did. Because Youngjae wouldn’t be Youngjae if one didn’t have to work in circles before barely catching a glimpse of his mind. Though Daehyun would proudly say that he was the one who knew him the best, and yes, he worked pretty damn hard for it. There were few times he had been wrong of course, misinterpretation could do that much, making him draw the wrong conclusion from a flinch, an emotion flash across guarded eyes or a quiver of the lips. But, it was very important not to leave out the ‘but’, mostly Daehyun got it right. 

 

Although Youngjae often denied it, or showed no sign of acknowledgement to Daehyun’s bold presumptions, he knew he was right.

 

Like now, staring straight into Youngjae’s eyes he knew he couldn’t be wrong.

 

He was falling – but he was not the only one.

 

It was fascinating how easy it became to think for two. The things he would do and the words he would say, everything came from an individual whose half has been overtaken by another half. It all molded into him so naturally and cleanly formed the version of him that was going to greet the days ahead.

 

“Hey Jae, I never told you, did I?” He took Youngjae’s hand in his and gently interlaced their fingers. “That I’m glad it’s you.”

 

Of all the people he could have fallen in love with…

 

At 9 he was glad it turned out to be Youngjae.

 

***

 

8. Perhaps it was supposed to hurt, you know like it was a natural part in the process of reaching out for someone.

 

And hurt, it surely did.

 

“Do you like him?” Daehyun asked, his voice cracking obviously in his ears.

 

When Youngjae gave him the confirmation that he was lost, Daehyun decided to disregard all the risks and gathered the last ounce of self-control he had left to ask: “Do you love him?”

 

For some odd reason, the pain only increased when Youngjae shook his head. If it wasn’t love, then why did he do it?

 

“So you can sleep with people you don’t even love… I didn’t take you for that kind of person princess….”

 

He bled, he honestly did. The invisible color of his heart was little by little seeping right through him, making him dizzy and sick as he drowned in its pool.

 

And as if that wasn’t enough…

 

“We did it twice. How much worse of a person will that make me?”

 

For the first time since he moved from Busan to start anew in Seoul, he wanted to be gone…wiped out from Yoo Youngjae’s life.

 

So he ran.

 

There he was, on a world stubbornly following its daily route — utterly wrecked and torn.

 

It hurt more than last time, so much more.

 

He had to wake up each day and convince himself that he wasn’t in the wrong. Youngjae seemed to believe the contrary though, and maybe he was right. After all, who was Jung Daehyun to Yoo Youngjae to care about whom he liked, kissed or slept with?

 

Daehyun stepped into the classroom and willed himself not to glance over at the person his eyes always seem to get lost into. He took an empty seat on the front row and dreaded the minutes. He smiled politely, gave a small response and laughed where he deemed appropriate, but in truth he tuned out his fellow classmates long ago. All he wanted was for the lecture to begin. With the stern History teacher in front of him, following his every move like an eagle – he would have no reason to turn around… no reason at all.

 

Who was he to Yoo Youngjae to feel betrayed…

 

But still this time, only this time he would like to the one on the other end of an apology. Even if the whole situation seemed unclear beneath the layer of frosted emotions, he honestly didn’t want to be the one to give in.

 

He loved Youngjae.

 

If he admitted to be sorry… if he felt wrong for loving someone… what would then be left of him?

 

It was a wonder how stubborn you could be when your whole mind was set on it.

 

He had stayed away from that wall built on uneven bricks down the subway for nearly three weeks, or maybe it was exactly three weeks. He’d lost count when he forced himself to look away.

 

So to say that he was shocked would be an understatement when he saw Youngjae on the subway standing by the spot he had unbeknownst to him grown attached to. Their eyes met and they stayed like that for a long time, for as long as it took for Daehyun to realize that Youngjae was nervous, fidgeting and somewhat out of place. He realized that Youngjae had been waiting for him… for once waiting and willing to tell him sorry.

 

It should have made him happy, glad that the other had missed him enough to lower his pride and seek him out. But it didn’t. Seeing the faint smile on Youngjae’s lips, he only felt disappointed and there was even a slight hint of anger.

 

People told him that actions spoke louder than words. But that couldn’t be true. Because if it was, then why was Youngjae unable to see what he felt, how could the younger overlook the obvious feelings he has been laboring all this while?

 

There have been moments; brief moments where Daehyun thought that he had a chance, that there was a high possibility his love was mutual.  But he had been shot down so harshly when he felt so close. Two seconds until the finishing line, yet Youngjae made him trip over his own feet, tumble over his hopes and ceased his time at 8.

 

With an apology the other wanted them to go back to how they were. But for once, Daehyun didn’t want things to be simple; he didn’t want to just accept Youngjae’s smile and then return to the starting line. He was in it too deep; he had fallen too hard to start all over again with broken limbs.

 

Therefore, when their shoulders brushed as Daehyun stepped past his long time friend he just kept on walking. It was cold, it chilled him to the core… but he tried not to shiver.

 

***

 

It was and had never been his intention to hurt Youngjae, neither physically nor mentally. But that didn’t change the fact that Youngjae’s shoulder was hurt because of him. They had bumped in the school hallway, but he had brushed it off casually when Youngjae fell to the floor. He had persistently fought against all thoughts and consciousness that told him that he cared. And he would have been proud of his achievement if he hadn’t walked into the nurse office and caught the sight of the colorful damage he didn’t think existed on the other’s shoulder.

 

He stared down at the shirtless Youngjae and asked himself the question the younger seemed to be asking him through his flickering gaze. ‘Why did he care?’

 

It was almost laughable simple. It was no longer a matter of what he wanted or did not want. He cared and would always do so because some time since he was thirteen he had let it become a part of him.

 

Daehyun rolled over a chair and settled down before Youngjae, he grabbed the tube of medicine from the younger’s hands and proceeded to gently apply it on bruised skin. A breathy moan lingered between them after his first and he unconsciously stilled to bewilderedly search for Youngjae’s eyes. But the other refused to meet his. He didn’t have to; the light blush on his cheeks was enough to make Daehyun hooked all the same again.

 

“I’m sorry.” He said and stared into Youngjae’s chocolate brown eyes, “I had no idea it was this bad.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

He breathed, he was breathing all fine.  But every breath seemed to be taken away from him the moment the words ‘I miss you’ passed Youngjae’s lips.

 

He pulled back and merely sat there looking at Youngjae.

 

The person he was in love with was oblivious, utterly stupid and unable to out two and two together. It made him frustrated and it made him hurt. But he knew it would be like that, he just momentarily forgot. He had known all of it for a very long time, ever since the moment he fell in love.

 

“You’re an idiot,” he whispered as a smile graced his lips. “The biggest idiot in the history of mankind.”

 

Familiar arms wrapped around him, pulling him into a delirious embrace.

 

“Fine, I’m an idiot.”

 

‘Who was Jung Daehyun to Yoo Youngjae?’

 

… someone invaluable, precious enough to make him say he was fool.

 

At 8, he hurt and loved at the same time.

 

***

 

7. It turned into a habit, one he couldn’t be without. The first day was believe it or not a coincidence; he had felt like waiting and so he did. With his hands in his pockets and a foot tapping gently against the ground as busy people past him one by one, he patiently waited. Then when Yoo Youngjae finally came through the crowded subway and Daehyun could see the bright smile on his face, warmth spread throughout his body. From head to toe. Daehyun knew that smile; it was the one that showcased Youngjae’s dimple and prominent cheekbones. The one that made his eyes twinkle so blindingly beautiful. The younger would never say it, but he knew that Youngjae was glad that he was here.

 

At that moment, Daehyun decided that he would stand at the same place every weekday and wait to see the same smile over and over again. He would be one hell of a fool not to do so.

 

Being emotionally attached to someone, Daehyun realized, made him do all sorts of weird things. Fortunately, he had yet to regret any of them… not even his first kiss.

 

Daehyun’s first kiss wasn’t one that could be classified as a kiss, yet he would like to count it as one. He was holding Youngjae’s hand and it all happened on a whim, a brief moment of his lips clumsily pressed against Youngjae’s. Barely a kiss, but special nonetheless.

 

“Jae, I’m hungry.” He said and drew a subtle circle with his thumb on the soft hand in his. “Buy me cake.”

 

Youngjae huffed, clearly offended by having been interrupted by Daehyun’s chaste kiss, or non-kiss. He tried to withdraw his hand, but the elder tightened his grip and held the hand to his chest. “Yah, you ‘re really pushing it today,” the edge in Youngjae’s voice should have been the cue for Daehyun to let go, but he only smiled at the younger.

 

“I know,” he took a step closer, still keeping their interlaced hands against his chest. His eyes searched and found their counterpart; he held them and voluntarily drowned in brown expressive orbs. “Thank you for putting up with me.”

 

Youngjae didn’t pull back, but kept their close proximity. “Grateful now, aren’t you? To be close to someone awesome like me.” He knew this tone very well, it was the one Youngjae would retort too whenever he felt the slightest disorientated.

 

And as happy as Daehyun was for being the reason for the faint blush on the other’s cheeks, he decided to go along with what his closest friend. Because that’s what he always did.

 

 “Your humility astounds me.” Daehyun chuckled.

 

“Shut up.” Youngjae tugged at his hand. “Yah, are you going to let me go, or do you plan on holding me forever? This feels weird, you know.”

 

Daehyun swallowed thickly. “If I say ‘yes’, what would you do about it?” He asked, masking the gravity of the question in the synthetic amusement tone his voice bore.

 

“Wow,” Youngjae’s eyes widened, impressed and astonished at the same time. “This is about that cake isn’t it? You really do anything for food, don’t you?” The soft hand Daehyun had been clutching so dearly slipped out of his fingers, leaving him hot and cold at the same time.  ”Jung Daehyun, someday that’s going to be the end of you.”

 

He doubted that Youngjae would ever get it. It wasn’t about food; it was never about food when the younger was present.

 

He truly did plan on never letting Youngjae go.

 

At 7, he realized it really was going to be the end of him.

 

***

 

6. They all said that liking someone was easy. If you wanted to, you could pour out your feelings in the form of a letter, a sheet of beautiful well chosen words and secretively let the other person know that you exist. Not as you or as a random face among a crowd of people but as someone who cares. Your feelings might not be answered but at least your efforts, your sincerity would be known.

 

If you found a letter too troublesome, or perhaps the art of language didn’t move as smoothly in your hands as it did in others then you could turn to your voice. After all, liking someone was not by any means hard, a phone call to a radio station could easily do the magic. You stutter a confession like minutes on tape and hope for the best. Although the person might not reply, you’d still have thousands of listeners and a song to console you.

 

And if dialing a popular radio station was too embarrassing, honestly, the idea itself sounded ridiculous then you could always stand before the person and get lost in mesmerizing eyes. It required a great deal of courage and determination, but at least if you got turned down… you’d be free to move on.

 

See, that’s how easy it was to like someone.

 

But to Daehyun it was difficult. Even more so than an equation of higher order. A letter was pointless because he would always care. To let his voice play in all public places was out of question… even a thousand sympathizers or his favorite song wouldn’t be able to comfort him. How do you recover from something, from someone that was strongly bonded to you in one way or another? One way that would always keep stringing you along even without meaning to. And lastly, he could definitely not say it in front of Youngjae’s face, he would never do that. Not when it might turn a carefree relationship into a guarded one with withdrawing gestures and awkward smiles.

 

What were the odds of Youngjae falling for him… a boy? Pretty close to zero, right? Why would Youngjae like him when there were at least five cute girls that would like to be his girlfriend?

 

Yes, Daehyun had counted, he preferred not to see them at all but his jealousy couldn’t stay in check. It was a prolonged bitterness that would just not fade away. After all, those pretty beings all theoretically had a bigger chance at something he really, really wished to be his.

 

However, since Youngjae could only be his in the form of a friend; he decided to be perfectly happy with it. Consequently, another secret weighed down his heart but it wasn’t something he couldn’t deal with.

 

He had to.

 

There was too much to lose.

 

***

 

Daehyun had every intention to forget about his feelings, his weakness that was his friend, crowned a princess. He buried them deep and suppressed them all he could, but no matter how much he tried they all always managed to come back to him.

 

And maybe that was why it hurt so much.

 

The shock and the realization hit like a cannonball. Since when was Youngjae so good at aiming at the target, Daehyun briefly wondered. Since when did all his decisions backfire on him…

 

Something he had long deemed impossible wasn’t supposed to happen…

 

Yoo Youngjae wasn’t supposed to tell him that he shared his first kiss with another boy. A boy that lived far away, a boy whose name sounded so sweet on Youngjae’s lips that it snapped Daehyun’s heartstrings in who knows how many pieces.

 

“I just thought that I should tell you.” Youngjae almost looked nervous and Daehyun couldn’t bear with it, he didn’t want Youngjae to be nervous. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but ehm…Daehyun-ah, you are important to me so—“ He couldn’t or wouldn’t allow it… if the other was nervous then it would mean that this was serious…

 

Daehyun hastily picked up his backpack and was out of the younger boy’s room in a heartbeat. Stomping his way to anywhere that would lead his thoughts away from the pain, Daehyun forced his breathing to ebb out.

 

His eyes stung when it wouldn’t.

 

It hurt.

 

Yoo Youngjae was falling for someone, and to know that it could’ve been him… to know that it wasn’t him…

 

It hurt a lot.

 

Two weeks, nearly fourteen days yet he still hadn’t got his mind around it. Instead he found himself slowly breaking down. The wounds were no longer only caused by the arrows from the front, but from the sides as well. Who was he supposed to confront? Who could he turn to? No one would understand, how do you explain an ache that can only be soothed by its cause?

 

He was losing the precious thing he had been so afraid of breaking in first place.

 

Daehyun walked with heavy steps, his stomps bounced loudly between the walls of the school corridor making his issues known to anyone who bothered to listen. Sometimes he felt upset just by looking at the people around him. He’d imagine the world mocking him; why else would it keep spinning as if nothing was wrong? Why else would it move away from him when he was down in a deep hole somewhere dark and unknown?

 

He was rounding a corner when he in a flash got pinned to the wall. And as if that wasn’t enough for him to question gods and their intentions of harming him… he found himself looking straight into deep brown eyes, the only existing pair that could make his heart speed up crazily.

 

However, to his astonishment, they were sad.

 

“Yah Jung Daehyun, am I disgusting to you now?”  Youngjae’s hands were on either side of his head clenched tightly. The knuckles whitened and it hit Daehyun for the first time that perhaps he was hurting the other as well. “Do you hate me?”

 

Youngjae had confided in him, told him what was probably the biggest secret in his 16 year old life and he had run away from him.

 

His breath hitched and admittedly, he was the biggest jerk in the universe.

 

“I’m sorry.” Daehyun pushed himself off the wall and instinctively pulled the younger into his arms. He wrapped them tightly, desperate to prove his genuine words. “I don’t hate you.”

 

With Youngjae flushed to his body, heart beating against his chest and his head slowly cleared in realization.

 

 It made him sad, but he would never tell.

 

“I could never hate you,” Daehyun said against Youngjae’s shoulder as his own secret grew. Inside of him it evolved into something heavy yet light at the same time, something enormous with the potential to be both beautiful and disastrous.

 

‘I love you.’

 

Like a seed buried deep within him it would never cease to grow.

 

“I’m a jerk, but I’ll always care about you. So please, forgive me.”

 

At 6, he fell in love.

 

***

 

5. Daehyun was 15 going on 16 when he realized that he caught in the phase of… well, changing. Everything changed. Not only did his voice turn deeper, cracking every now and then when he tried to speak but his surroundings was also changing. A notable example would be how Youngjae who had been shorter than him since the moment they entered one another’s life suddenly stood eyelevel beside him. It did bother him of course; sometimes the older could even swear that the younger stood above him by a centimeter or so. Another one was how school was simply not school anymore. The building stood the same, but the idea of it in the students’ minds had made a 180 degree change. It wasn’t just a place of education or torture anymore. In fact, it had evolved into something that could… yes, could be interesting. Suddenly it was important to have a decent hairday, oh let’s say – all the time. And how you carried yourself mattered, because in this phase everybody wanted to impress and everybody wanted to be noticed either by people they thought mattered or by just a special someone.

 

It all got complicated from there.

 

The ability to adapt to complications was clearly not Daehyun’s forte. He was simple-minded and therefore preferred things to stay on his level. The evolvement that by far confused him the most was how every action seemed to mask an ulterior motive.

 

A smile, you know the lip curl thing with a flash of your teeth could suddenly mean anything from inviting to mocking, and one could only guess. Daily conversations were filled with innuendos he didn’t get, or perhaps flirting was simply not his thing.

 

With that being said, he would have to add that he was grateful at least one thing seemed to be constant during the chaotic times. Yoo Youngjae stayed the same. A snarky, insufferable yet caring idiot.

 

Yes, that was his Youngjae.

 

When Daehyun with unbelievable fortune fell off his chair in the middle of lunch, everyone, literally everyone rushed over to fuss over him.

 

“Are you okay?”

 

“Did you hit your head?”

 

And it bothered him to no end. Maybe it shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but wonder why they forced themselves to voice out words of concern when all they wanted was to laugh at him. He must have after all looked very funny letting his kiss the floor. Of course he knew they wanted to be considerate, but truthfully now, what could he do with the ingenuine care aside from forgetting about it the second after it was given to him. He’d rather they be honest.

 

Only Youngjae laughed. Loud and clear, his laughter rang like a bell.

 

“Yah, pabo! I told you to sit probably!” The younger helped him dust dirt off the back of his pants. “For your sake I hope it hurts.”

 

The corners of Youngjae’s mouth tugged, it wasn’t a smirk nor was it a grin. He was just smiling. Daehyun’s backside did hurt and he did feel a little upset for falling but that didn’t prevent him from finding the smile on Youngjae’s lips strangely cute.

 

And like that, just like that…

 

plain and simple without anything spectacular… He realized that he liked his best friend.

 

At 5, less platonic and more than a friend, he liked Yoo Youngjae.

 

***

 

4. Daehyun was a little over 14 and if he had any power over his life at all, he would say that it was way too early for him experience the pain of losing someone he loved. It came knocking in the form of a phone call, rendering his mother into tears when she finally realized its cruel intentions. His grandfather had fallen into a deep slumber, one he refused to wake up from; no matter how much his grandma had shaken him and begged him to. Daehyun felt like crying; it hurt, it hurt so bad. But he didn’t want to cry, not when his mother was breaking down and his father wasn’t home from work — not when it was necessary for someone to be strong.

 

“Mom…” his arms went around her. The ache behind his ribcage wouldn’t stop expanding and he dreaded as he listened to silent tears that was never going to go away.

 

They told him that it was expected, considering his grandpa’s age and weak heart. But he wouldn’t hear them, perhaps it was because his mind was still young and the thought of death being expected was beyond saddening. Painful and unbelievable. People he loved were not supposed to go away; they were meant to stay by his side for a very, very long time. Almost an eternity. His grandfather was supposed to take him to all the beaches in Busan whenever he visited, buy him ice cream when the sun turned overbearing and teach him how be undefeatable in chess, the game of wisdom.

 

There were many things Daehyun wanted to do, just the two of them. And even more importantly, there were many things he wanted to say. For instance how much he loved him, and the thought of his words getting lost somewhere between heaven and earth, unable to reach the person he dearly missed broke him thoroughly.

 

And for the first time that day, he let it show.

 

When his father came home, Daehyun had mechanically handed over the weight of being the man over to him. Only then did he realize how young he still was, his shoulders weren’t broad enough, his words lacked experience and his comfort shallow. He was not ready. Simply not.

 

But to this kind of pain, he didn’t think that he could ever be ready for the harsh reality of life.

 

Daehyun felt numb as he stood on the doorstep to Youngjae’s house. A shaken hand rose to press on the door bell and the moment the first ring echoed through the house was also the moment the first tear rolled down his cheek. Then he lost it. Droplets of tears crystallized round his eyes and turned his world into a blurry mess. The more he cried, the more he wished for Youngjae to stand in front of him.  And the longer the seconds stressed, the closer he got to the brink of turning hysterical.

 

Maybe the whole world had decided to turn its back on him. Or maybe it was a test to see how much he could take, how many cracks he could bear before he fell apart.

 

It wasn’t until he found himself buried in Youngjae’s arms, hands clutching desperately onto the younger’s shirt that he steered away from those hopeless thoughts. Youngjae didn’t tell him to stop crying and he didn’t say that everything was going to be alright.

 

“Daehyun-ah, don’t worry. When it gets too much, give me half of it.”

 

And just like that…

 

Youngjae cried with him.

 

The warmth radiating from his friend gradually eased the turmoil underneath his skin and soothed his breath into a soft tune brushing against the younger boy’s neck. He held on tighter and let his tired eyes fall shut, for once convinced that it was okay to be a little bit broken.

 

At 4, he never felt more thankful than he did right there and then.

 

***

 

3. One could call it a miracle, how they turned out the way they did.

 

But Daehyun wouldn't go that far...

 

“Will you shut up already?” he was told, or rather snapped at for the nth time since free period started. He did consider shutting his mouth after the 4^th time when the low growl made it sound like Youngjae wanted to kill him. But Youngjae always sounded like he wanted him dead, so he decided against it. Besides, he was hungry.

 

If Youngjae alternated between shaking hands with angels and Satan himself, depending on the day, hour, minute or second. Then Daehyun would turn down-right annoying when he got hungry. Not the kind of hungry when you couldn’t wait for someone to call for dinner in 10 minutes. He wasn’t that much of a jerk. But only occasionally when he got what his parents called a black hole in his stomach, an unfilled space where all food just seem to disappear through and leave him constantly craving for something to chew on. He wished he could go home and rummage through the snack-stock his mother had hidden in the most obvious places, munch his way through and hope that a chocolate bar or cookie would hit the mark and make him feel full. He cursed the school cafeteria for closing early, hence hindering its purpose of nurturing growing and craving students like the likes of him.

 

“It’s not like I can help it,” he muttered and sent the boy beside him what he thought was a pitiful look. Not that it mattered anyhow since Youngjae, too engrossed in his magazine didn’t even bother to look at him. He continued to stare at his so called friend though, figuring that he would catch the younger’s attention if his gaze burnt long enough. But to his disappointment, Youngjae turned slightly in his chair and tuned the older off with a cold shoulder.  “I don’t get why you intend to spend 12 000 won every month on those game magazines when all you do is read them once and then stuff them into a drawer you put all your junk in.” His folded his arms over his chest. “Even you should be able to figure out that it’s not worth it. I mean that’s like…” Daehyun’s eyes squinted as he calculated in his head, “…150 000 won a year and—“ Youngjae slammed the magazine shut, shoving coming words back down Daehyun’s throat.

 

He watched with round eyes as Youngjae shot up so abruptly that the four legs of his chair made a painful shriek against the floor, shortening its life by five years or so. His eyed followed the other who stomped his way out of the classroom, consequently leaving roughly thirty pair of eyes to stare at him, questioning what he did to drive the other away. Daehyun gulped and looked down at his desk, his stomach churned both in hunger and in wonder if Youngjae was ‘Youngjae-mad’ at him or ‘real mad’ at him. The difference held great significance; the former meant nothing was out of the ordinary while the latter would mean that he would have to apologize, the sooner the better.

 

He hunched over his desk, crossed his arms over the smooth surface and then buried his face in them. He turned his head to the side and pouted as he faced the unoccupied seat next to him. His mind seemed to be on high-drive a lot lately. It probably was one of the perks of being friends with Yoo Youngjae, someone who made you read not only him but also what’s between the lines. That was where they differed, Daehyun thought. Youngjae was intricate while he was simple. Sometimes Youngjae called him ‘Snorlax’ apparently it was the name of the Pokémon who only knew how to eat and sleep. And according to the younger boy, the similarities were striking… Daehyun preferred ‘simple’ though.

 

His eyes closed while he contemplated on whether he should go after Youngjae or not. He really, really didn’t like the idea of having someone mad at him, especially Youngjae. Maybe he should have stopped after the 4^th ‘shut up’ after all…

 

The sound of metal legs scraping against the floor invaded his ears and the lid of his left eye warily lifted in order to inspect the situation. For all he knew, it could be pretty bad.

 

It wasn’t though.

 

Daehyun was surprised when he saw two samgakkimpap placed right in front of his eyes. The seaweed covered triangular shaped snack were too familiar to miss. His eyes quickly moved higher until the figure of another teenage boy filled his vision.

 

Youngjae was flipping the pages of his magazine until he reached the one slightly more wrinkled than the others. “Do I have to unwrap it for you as well?” he said and even if the tone was faintly harsher than necessary, Daehyun couldn’t stop the corners of his lips from tugging upwards. He wondered how many classrooms Youngjae had to go through and how many he people he asked in order to buy or get the snack now before his eyes.  Then while he was at it, he wondered how someone could sound so cold yet possessed the softest of eyes. Like a pair of windows, they reflected light that degree by degree warmed someone up from the inside and out.

 

Could everyone see it? Or was it only him?

 

Slowly, he moved to hide the brightness of his smile in his arms.

 

Either way…

 

At 3 he felt like it was his secret to keep.

 

***

 

2. Unbeknownst to Daehyun, it became a thing. Their thing. And he couldn’t tell what he should feel more upset about; Yoo Youngjae tripping him in front of the whole class or that they actually got a thing in common.

 

He slowly got up on his feet, dusted  the dirt off his pants and turned to glare at the boy in guilt, though Youngjae didn’t look guilty at all, instead he was adorning a cheeky grin, one that made the insides of the older growl. If the teacher hadn’t stepped announced that class was starting then who knew what parts they would be tearing off each other. Daehyun never considered himself as violent, or even verbal for that matter. But since he moved to Seoul, correction since he met Youngjae irritation constantly starched at the inner walls of his throat, making him spurt out insult after insult. Half-hearted ones naturally, but meant to offend nonetheless. His school life has never been as lively as it was now, some days he would even go as far as to call it ridiculous.

 

But it never got as ridiculous as the moment his mom for some out of this world reason started to refer to the Yoo Youngjae as his friend. He was appalled of course, and had immediately tried to defend himself by declaring that they were NOT by any means linked that way to each other.

 

“He’s the only one you mention though.” His mother shrugged her shoulders and added some vegetables onto his plates. “I’m sure Youngjae is a good boy, I mean you always tell me how smart he is.”

 

Daehyun was slightly surprised that she knew the name of his enemy, especially when she’d only spoke of this classmates as ‘the boy with the white teeth ’or ‘the girl with the big eyes’ and Daehyun would have no  idea who she was talking about.

 

“Mom, he calls me ‘Jungpabo’,” Daehyun stated as if that explained everything. “He likes to get on my nerves.”

 

His mother only smiles knowingly, though what exactly she knew was beyond him. “You know son,” she added more food to his plate. “We all need someone like that in our lives.”

 

The topic abruptly dropped and released streams of confusion as its aftermath. Mostly because Daehyun couldn’t even with his brain capacity turned to max understand how, just how he needed someone like Yoo Youngjae in his life.

 

However, sometimes, only sometimes though, when Daehyun felt a little distracted and perhaps a bit tired, through his glazed eyes he couldn’t help but see Youngjae as an amazing person. Moreover, it didn’t take long for Daehyun to notice that there might not be anything that his classmate couldn’t do. That’s how smart Yoo Youngjae was. Somewhat awesome and a little bit incredible. However, those moments never lasted long, because sooner or later he would snap out of it and realize how contradicting those certain thoughts were in comparison to his outspoken opinions about the younger. And one wouldn’t like to be hypocritical now would they.

 

Perhaps he should feel jealous, especially during the times Youngjae raised his hand in class to correct the teacher or made them flustered with questions above their field of expertise. And maybe he should hold a grudge when the younger suavely finished 100 m track like a pro in P.E or when his jokes made the whole classroom break down in endless fits of laughter. But surprisingly, even to Daehyun himself, he never did.

 

True, they fought daily; often ungrounded and they rivaled over petty thing like the last red bean bread in the cafeteria. But there was something… something that from time to time made him think: ‘Ah, I know this person’… maybe too proudly for his own liking. And somehow, that phrase always walked hand in hand with the unlikely imaginary of a royal friendship. You know, like one between a commoner and a Princess.

 

Impossible to no end.

 

But …

 

Every now and then, when the weather was clear and Daehyun would accidently catch the sight of sunrays reflecting upon sparkling eyes, he would unconsciously stare and think that perhaps the impossible could do with a few exceptions.

 

At 2, he wanted to go against the odds.

***

 

1. The thirteen year old Daehyun was indescribably nervous. He adjusted the shoulder straps of his backpack with great care and tried to make them as even as possible. After all, if it hung oddly on his back, the others might laugh at him. His tongue darted out to moisten his lips, and then he craned his neck to peek through the large window.  The sight of a full and lively classroom made him wary and so he flinched back. Not that he thought kids from Seoul were aliens or something of the kind, he was aware that they were ordinary six graders just like him. But he couldn’t help but tug at the hem of his iron-pressed shirt to straighten out the non-existent wrinkles. The cheerful laughter, the names shouted blatantly across the room by lively voices were to him all unfamiliar. They were all strangers.

 

Daehyun held his breath when the door before him opened with a creek, revealing the homeroom teacher who had introduced herself as Mrs. Park earlier upon his arrival. She held the door wide open and smiled when she gestured for Daehyun to come inside. The new boy’s face slowly turned red, flushed as he forgot to let his breath out. His shoes tapped against the floor, and with each tap followed silence of his potential friends. One after another hushed, exchanging carefree laughter for a moment of curiosity. The room had long gone soundless when he finally stood by its center, his eyes flickered over new faces and swallowed visibly when he realized that he had their full attention. This was the seconds of doom, Daehyun thought. They were scanning him, deeming his first impression and even if Daehyun was covered by layers and layers of dress codes he still felt exposed.

 

“Everyone,” Mrs. Park’s gentle voice broke through questioning looks, steering them towards her. “This is your new friend from Busan and I expect you to be nice and take good care of him.” She then looked down at Daehyun and gave him an encouraging smile. “Introduce yourself, Daehyunnie.”

 

He nodded and once again let his eyes wander from face to face before he took a slight bow. “Hello, my name is Jung Daehyun and my family just moved here from Busan. Please, take good care of me.” His last words seemed to have triggered off something, pushed an invisible power button no one had informed him of, because suddenly the room broke out in loud whispers and to Daehyun’s dismay, giggles. Had he sounded funny? Did he say something wrong? And why did they keep staring at him?

 

Daehyun sighed inwardly as he went to his directed seat. He settled down and somewhat reluctantly lifted his head, knowing that he had to sooner or later. The big eyes of his blinked in surprise when he was met with sets of nervous glances and approving smiles and at that moment, a shy smile decidedly graced his lips. A wave of relief hit him kindly, letting his tense shoulders relax for the first time since last night and the tight knot of nervousity in his stomach gradually undid itself.

 

He did well, Daehyun gleefully thought. He passed.

 

However, his eyes suddenly locked with sharp ones and it didn’t take more than a fraction of a second for Daehyun to figure that the boy with the chubby cheeks a few desks away did not think well of him. And truthfully he became a bit perplexed, despite knowing that one could not hit home with everyone.

 

Then while looking further into eyes of indifference and superiority, Daehyun silently decided that he was never going to like or even get along the specific boy. Ever.

 

No matter how squishy the other looked.

 

At 1, he was young and determined…

 

… though little did he know that some things were just meant to be.

 

 

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Thank you for reading ^^

I know it was just a giant pile of fluff, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

Thanks again! :)

<3

Ivy