Chapter IV

“Better the comfort of a lie

than the absurdity of the truth.”

-Tanya Huff

“You should take a rest from your work,” Jiyong suggested  running his fingertips against the soft skin of Seunghyun’s face, “I’m worried about you”

The elder one only smiled upon watching the cute expression the younger one showed while saying these words, “You should not,” was his only answer whilst placing a tender kiss over the long fingers caressing his face.

“I finished two songs today, I’ve been inspired these last few days,” said the younger one with excitement, rolling over the bed and breaking loose of the strong grip of the oldest arms. He then stretched his legs and pulled the older one out of the bed guiding him along the corridors of the house in silence to where the library was.

The library was in such an awful state that the older one could only sigh in frustration at the sight. The books seemed to have been just thrown over the shelves, disorganized and in different and weird positions, some were even over the floor with their white pages opened and wrinkled.

“Haven’t I told you many times before to organize this room?” asked Seunghyun with a frown over his face, looking at the mess in front of him with discontent, bending down to pick some of the books scattered over the floor and blowing the dust from the surface of their covers. “This is not the way you should treat a book Jiyong-ah,” he reprimanded the youngest while placing the books over one of the shelves in the wall carefully.

Yet the youngest was so concentrated in his own moment to care about Seunghyun’s complains. He was searching through the many documents over his desk in deep concentration.

“Here!” he exclaimed after a while, stretching his arm and giving a pair of sheets to Seunghyun who now was seated on a sofa, cross-armed and with a funny half-smile on his lips. Seunghyun took the sheets with his right arm and read them thoughtfully.

“This is good. You are an amazing writer Jiyong-ah,” was the verdict of the oldest after reading Jiyong’s lyrics, causing the composer to smile proudly at the thought of his beloved Seunghyun liking his work.

“You inspire me,” murmured Jiyong sitting himself over Seunghyun’s lap and circling his neck with his tiny arms. “You always inspire me.”

Seunghyun felt the same tiny hands caressing his back tremble right before the body behind his back weakened. If it was not because of his fast reaction to turn around and grab Jiyong’s body closer to his, Jiyong could have fallen hardly over on the floor. Seunghyun looked at Jiyong’s face, which seemed lost in something close to torture and his lips that were mumbling incomprehensible things.

His hands, as if lead by a strange will, cupped Jiyong’s face with tenderness and pulled it closer to his chest, running his fingers through those dark strands of hair in an attempt to sooth Jiyong’s tortured soul.

“Never leave me Seunghyun,” prayed Jiyong with a broken voice, snuggling his body against Seunghyun’s one, “Stay with me forever, please… stay with me.”

There was absolutely nothing Seunghyun could do to stop the growing feeling of an overwhelming knot forming inside his throat. Why did it hurt? This wasn’t supposed to affect him… and still, there he was feeling those tears as if they were his, feeling that pain as if it was his. Why?

After a moment in silence, a particular silence that was composed by crying and sobbing sounds and could still be called as silence for there was nothing inside the minds of both men: no sounds, no thoughts. Jiyong started to move away from Seunghyun’s hug, uncomfortable with his head hanging low. Without saying a single word he turned around and walked away, leaving a moved and confused Seunghyun behind in the middle of the night, with a bunch of weird and strange sensations itching all over his body.

Jiyong walked through the corridors of his so-called “home” with guilt and shame impregnated over his skin. He felt disgusted with himself but he could do nothing to get rid of the image and longing for that person, for his Seunghyun. His eyes wandered to the photos pasted over the walls while climbing up the staircase in defeat; his own unknown happy face looked back at him with disgusting sparkling eyes, surrounded by equally unknown familiar faces that seemed to laugh at him. It was unbearable, the existence without Seunghyun felt unbearable and yet it was something he felt he deserved for it was his fault Seunghyun was no longer with him, he believed his pain was his own fault.

He entered his room but felt incapable to stay any moment inside that place where every single corner seemed to trigger all kind of painful memories so he opened the glass door that lead to the terrace and walked outside to the darkness of the night. The cold wind instinctively wrapped his soul and adhered to the skin of his face like a rain of cold thorns. He took a deep breath and focused his eyes to the darkened sky, trying without success to hide what was left of him within that darkness and disappear, at least for one second.

“Where I live you can see almost every star over the sky,” said a voice behind his back, astounding him. The supplanter was leaning over the frame of the terrace doors looking at him smiling as if nothing had happened between both men before. “The sky is not as dark as how it seems. It’s the reflections of the city lights the ones that don’t allow us to appreciate all the stars that are shining right now,” he explained, walking closer towards Jiyong. “Where I used to live, one could see almost every star. It was beautiful.”

Jiyong looked with curiosity at the supplanter, who did not seem to accuse him or stare at him with any sign of disgust. Even though he had used him in such a cruel way minutes ago, he was now in front of him with a cautious smile as if he felt the one in fault.

“Do you like watching the stars?” the man in front of him asked while pointing at the dark sky with one of his fingers after what he leaned his elbows over the terrace handrail looking at the sky in adoration, “I personally do,” he whispered.

“Not really,” Jiyong answered uncomfortable by the kindness of the man in front of him. He felt that the man was pushing through his walls, intruding and penetrating through his intimacy, a feeling that felt so fulfilling it was scary.

Seunghyun frowned and decided to remain quite when he saw Jiyong’s feet backing away as if scared. Maybe he was asking too much of that man he thought, so he remained in silence, joining Jiyong as he stared at the sky without emitting any sound and with only the wind blowing their hair and freezing their faces.

“He used to know the name of almost every star,” murmured Jiyong after a while in a voice almost made only for him to be heard, avoiding staring back at the pair of black eyes that were focused on him, “He had the weirdest interests.”

“I know some but not all of them, one of my fathers taught me about them when I was younger,” answered Seungri trying to be as gentle as possible to prevent scaring Jiyong while recalling those long time buried memories, even when he knew they were supposed to stay buried in the deepness of his core.

“One of your fathers?” asked Jiyong turning his face to see the man next to him in true bewilderment. Seunghyun only gave a fake smile and nodded with his head not willing to say anything more, he never said anything more, what he said was beyond what he usually let others know about him. Jiyong seemed to understand the fact those answers were things out of his reach so he gave up quickly, closing his eyes and dropping his head exhausted.

“I read in one book yesterday that stars look brighter during winter. Supposedly because of the Earth’s position and the part of the galaxy we are watching. Interesting isn’t it?” asked Seunghyun standing in front of the glass doors that lead to his home terrace with his hands on his pajama’s pockets.

Jiyong glanced at him with a bored grin, ignoring completely what the oldest was saying, “I really don’t care about those things, Hyun.”

Seunghyun quickly turned his body to stare at the slim figure resting over his bed, holding a book between his hands. “You never care about the things I like Jiyong-ah,” he complained whilst lying down over the bed next to Jiyong’s body.

“And still you keep loving me,” affirmed the youngest one with a playful smirk while placing the book away over one of the night tables at one side of the bed.

“I’m no longer sure,” suggested the oldest turning his back.

“Then I will make you sure about it,” murmured Jiyong sliding his hands over the oldest waist seductively and turning the oldest body to face him. “… And erase all doubts inside your stubborn head.”

“Stars look brighter in winter,” repeated Jiyong lost in his own thoughts. Seunghyun gave him a curious look not sure if that was a question or a statement.

“Yes, I think they do,” he replied, scratching the back of his head not sure if that was the right answer making the dark haired boy to gasp.

“I thought he was just fooling around,” murmured Jiyong before raising his eyes again to the sky, “ So they are brighter today and still I can’t see them.”

“That’s only because you are trying to watch them in the wrong place,” said Seunghyun while staring captivated at Jiyong’s silhouette. He had thought that man was cold and cruel, but the man in front of him was anything but arrogant, he was a tortured soul with an overwhelming paleness and coldness inside his heart and reflected over his skin. For one instant, Seunghyun felt like he was watching at his own reflection.

Jiyong noticed the supplanter’s eyes scrutinizing every corner of him but instead of feeling uncomfortable by it, he felt a warm feeling ascending his skin and warming his heart. Maybe this is how it felt to not been alone anymore… just maybe.

He instructed Seunghyun to follow him to the inside of the house. Seunghyun nodded with his head and walked behind him without asking anything. Jiyong’s room was anything but how Seunghyun had imagined. There was almost no decoration, no portraits or strange figures scattered here and there but only a king sized bed and black wood furniture.

Jiyong opened one of the doors at the left of the room and stepped inside leaving Seunghyun alone in the middle of the room. The supplanter’s eyes looked around with interest at how tidy everything seemed to be, almost to the point of perfection.  Honestly speaking, Jiyong did not seem to be one organized person and still every corner of that house was appallingly neat.

“Here, wear it,” said Jiyong stepping out of the room that probably was their closet, thought Seunghyun while taking the clothes Jiyong was extending towards him. “The bathroom is there, when you are done spray some of this lotion over you,” said Jiyong pointing at one gray recipient over the dresser. Seunghyun nodded and walked towards the bathroom.

When he was inside and locked out of Jiyong’s stare, he examined the clothes between his hands passing a finger over the fabric that felt silky and delicate. He frowned due to the fact he was used to sleeping in only boxers and yet he pulled down his pants and took out his shirt and folded them with carefulness over the dresser. He stared at his body reflected in the bathroom’s mirror, that body was supposed to be his and still it felt anything but his property. Seunghyun merely shook his head as he always did when those thoughts started creeping inside his mind. 

He had to roll up the sleeves and the pants that were too long for him. This felt like a bad joke, as if he was now covered by a false identity, by a skin that was not his. He stepped out of the room dressed in a squared blue pajama and looked for Jiyong, but the room was empty with no sign of the dark haired one.

Seunghyun took the gray bottle between his hands and tried to read the name of the perfume, but it was written in an unknown language for him to understand anything. He approached it to his nose; it smelled of wood and cinnamon, definitely not what he liked in a perfume but perfect for the image he had of Choi Seunghyun. He sprayed some of it over his neck and clothes feeling the fragrance wrapping around him, before placing back the bottle over the table. Next to it was another smaller bottle, in curiosity he took it and approached it to his nose too, inhaling its scent. A strong rush of a delicious smell of freshness invaded his senses… the same smell Jiyong had.

“That’s mine,” whispered a voice behind his back making him jump in surprise and clench his fingers around the bottle in shame. He placed the bottle back to where it was before and stepped back.

“I thought so, it smells like you,” he said as his only answer.

Jiyong ignored the comment of the supplanter, to lost in his own thoughts to notice what those words meant. He scratched his head looking confused and doubtful.

“Look… ammm…hyun…Seunghyun…Choi Seunghyun used to sleep at the left of the bed,” he said with his cheeks tinted red.

“Ok,” said Seunghyun walking to the left side of the bed, “I told you I have no problem with this Jiyong,” he added trying to ease Jiyong’s nervousness. He moved the white blankets away and slipped inside the bed, placing some of the pillows behind his back in a way he could remain sited over the bed. Jiyong did the same, sliding inside the right side of the bed; his body extremely tense and stiff.

“Maybe if you close your eyes,” suggested Seunghyun feeling bad for Jiyong and trying to find a way to make this easier for him.

Jiyong nodded and closed his eyes approaching his trembling body towards Seunghyun’s one, he inhaled Seunghyun’s, Choi Seunghyun’s fragrance, from the supplanter’s body and his muscles seemed to immediately relax. Slowly the face of Jiyong lost every sign of tension and his breathing started to get steadier and deeper. He fell asleep in Seunghyun’s arms.

The supplanter was everything but relaxed. A man was curling between his arms and a sense of danger slipped inside his head. This was and felt so different from his past cases, he felt in some way unprotected and vulnerable. All those years working and doing this same exact kind of things seemed useless.

The house, Choi Seunghyun’s mystery, Jiyong, everything was too intriguing but there was something else growing inside his heart apart from curiosity. It was the solitude inside the house, the solitude hidden in Jiyong’s pupils, the same solitude inside his own heart. And somehow, the thought of someone else sharing the same kind of painful solitude made him feel not alone anymore.

He felt his eyes closing in slumber right before Jiyong’s mouth murmured something over his neck.

“I love you, Seunghyun,”

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