"Hyung, it's raining so heavily outside…what should I do?" the younger boy (of about five or six) cries - his voice laced with undeniable panic.

It's pouring so heavily the rooftop and gutters are clanking. Unable to receive a response, he proceeds to tug the sleeve of the older boy, who sets his forehead against the window still, still zoning out like a black television screen. An outline of mist contours the portion of his warm skin that's against the glass, almost as if they’re the traces of his thoughts emanating.

"Hyung... my plants, they're going to get hurt from the rain, I-I don't want them to die," his voice cracks at the end, a fresh, steady stream of tears already pouring down his face.

Jiyong had planted a few seeds in the garden a few days ago, and on sight of the first few seedlings, he’s became so excited he still hasn’t stopped talking about them . He doesn’t know what they’ll grow out to be like – not that he’s actually seen a flower on bloom before, let alone recognize one.

"Hu--oh." the older boy turns around, face to face with a bleary eyed Jiyong. He's features are plastered with fear, helplessness and confusion. And something about his state of vulnerability makes Seunghyun’s heart plummet as well. Seunghyun reaches out pull the younger boy into a hug. He's body is stiff, almost limp at first.

"Okay," he rubs the slowest, most soothing circles around the back of the younger boy.

"It's okay." he says, feeling Jiyong's tears beginning to soak up that part of the fabric lying right above his shoulder blades. 

“Wh-what’s going to happen to my seeds…” he says in between sobs, delving his head into the crook of Seunghyun’s neck. His tears are staining Seunghyun’s shirt, but he doesn’t mind. He smiles, patting Jiyong gently and hearteningly on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of them.” Seunghyun says it like a declaration, and there’s this saturated amount of reassurance in his voice that captures Jiyong’s trust, and like a dandelion in the wind, he’s able to just go with the direction of flow that Seunghyun had pinpointed. There was no one time, no problems that were unresolved, no sense of relief that had them grinning like the world was in their hands because all these things happened. All these things happened, and it had been more than once. He had placed his trust in the older man so long before he’s finding difficulty even naming one time when Seunghyun didn’t live up to his promise.

His trust in Seunghyun works in an unexplainable sort of way. It’s like an exchange, a trade. No rules, no conditions – just his reassurance in exchange for the younger boy’s trust. And maybe that’s the beauty of it all, the beauty of childlike believe, as long as they’re innocent, gay and free - there’s no need for more than a few minutes of coaxing to get them to believe.

Jiyong doesn’t probe, doesn’t even ask him what he’s about to do – he simply stands still by the window, calmer now, and more at ease. He looks out, squinting at the faint outline of his backyard in attempt to locate the flowerbed. He’s so sure that with Seunghyun’s promise, they’ll be okay he doesn’t even pray, let alone wish, because there’s no need to wish when there’s certainty.

He’s that certain.

So he doesn’t realize that Seunghyun’s gone until he hears the monsterous cracking of the thunder and feels need to seek solace in the other boy’s arms.

+

Seunghyun trudges out of the house, and it’s bucketing so heavily it’s like he’s listening to the loud muffled applauses recorded in an old cassette tape on repeat. His sneakers are entirely soaked, and his clothes, already wet by the time he reaches the blurry outline of the flowerbed.

Seunghyun crouches down, setting his knees against the muddy ground as he hunches over the flowerbed, arms laid out halfway - cradling the flowerbed like it’s the most precious thing on earth.

He feels his skin crying out in agony, crawling even, as the rain continues to platter down. Seunghyun’s fingers are paralysed from the cold. He tries to curl them in and out, but they’re so stoned it’s like they’ve been buried under the avalanche since ice age.

Even when he's under the crazy pouring rain, even when he’s this drenched and shivering like a lost fawn in the artic, he doesn’t know why deep down in his heart it’s so warm – like it’s been housing firecrackers, and they’re on the verge to igniting the fire and the sparks that are suddenly bursting of his chest like fireworks.

He stays under the icy shower, for almost another quarter of an hour, until he sees a tear-sodden Jiyong heading his way.

“Hyung! What are you doing?”

“Protecting them!” Seunghyun shouts over the rain

“Hyung… you’re going to get sick out there! Come in… now!”

“No, I’m going to protect them like I’ve promised you!!!”

Jiyong folds his arms, on his bottom lip stubbornly as he plops down beside Seunghyun’s arching form. They stay within each other’s vision, for a while, beneath the gloomy thunderclouds that are tearing relentlessly, accompanied by