i had a dream, more beautiful than any flower.
at the cold wind, i pull up the blankets.

chapter one.

Of the five days of the week (Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday and Friday) - the school week to be specific -, Junhong’s favorite had to be Friday.

Any sane human being his age would have easily agreed, a perk smile on their face and an explanation how that Fridays meant the careful end to their school week, opening up two whole days of sleeping in and rolling around before Monday came and ruined everything again. It was a uniformed answer for the majority of students in his grade and class.

For Junhong, the reasons were different.

He did well in classes - well, on the subjects he honestly gave for anyways - and attending school meant meeting up with his friends. The single factor that kept him antsy and on his toes every Friday afternoon before the last bell of the school week blew off, was a single person: Bang Yongguk.

It was what kept him hyper on Friday afternoons, sweeping his broom across the dusty, wooden floors with such an energy his other classmates didn’t possess by the time of day, the time of week. It was the single day of the week that he gladly took over chores for his fellow classmates, even if it meant having to crawl under desks to scrape up old gum residues - why couldn’t they just keep from sticking them there in the first place. Anything to get out of class faster.

“I don’t think I ever need to look at a calendar anymore,” a shorter boy, considerably, to Junhong’s towering height snickered as he leaned restfully against the makeshift lockers in the back of the room, his broom clutched loosely in half knit fists, threatening to fall out. “Every Friday, you’re like, all over the place.”

The boy laughed, covering his mouth with his occupied hand, letting drop the cleaning utensil as Junhong had earlier suspected. He flinched at the sound, shrugged and picked it up again, tossing it - with fail, gaining a groan from the class representative who had just finished replacing the metal container that held all their brooms and sweepers - toward the silver bin situated in the far back corner of their classroom. He didn’t offer an apology.

“Is your brother coming to pick you up again?”

Junhong smiled, the corners of his left lip peeking up a tad higher than the right to a lopsided smile - something Yongguk always liked to point out, poking his indentured dimple with an index finger. “Maybe.”

Yongguk was the reason Junhong liked Fridays so much. Ever since Junhong had entered grade school, he would always wait up in the campus area of his facility for Yongguk to rush over from his own classes. With a blinding smile and one arm gripping tight to a falling backpack strap, Yongguk never once kept his baby brother waiting longer than necessary. Never.

And as the two grew older, their six year difference separating them too further than Junhong wanted, their wordless promise hadn’t fallen, though reduced down to once a week. As much as Junhong much disliked not being able to childishly hold his big brother’s hand, swinging it in the tiny space between them - much like a baby boy would his parents’ -, Junhong figured that once a week was better than none at all.

That day, the day Yongguk would stand by the gates of Junhong’s school, became Fridays, also known as Junhong’s favorite day of the week.

It became the day Junhong kept an extra careful eye on the clocks for.

The day that kept the overgrown boy twitching and on high alert.

The day that the clock seemed to have grown a knack for ticking backwards in time.

To Junhong’s vague response, the shorter friend simply rolled his eyes. Of course Junhong’s older brother was coming, why had he even bother asked? “Of course he is,” he mumbled under breath, rolling his neck over to the right to hear a thick crack sound. “Wish my brother and I were so close. My brother usually just ignores me, though, I’m not complaining or anything.”

They shared a short laugh to that. It was no secret that Changhyun and his brother weren’t the best of friends; Changhyun made sure to tell everyone to never believe the innocent facade the older put up. They mixed just about as well as oil with water - meaning, not very well. It was almost funny to Junhong, who couldn’t ever imagine living without Yongguk.

Changhyun was greatly missing out.

(Poor thing.)

“So, you guys going to spend the whole day out together again?”

“When do we ever not?”

His smile, the one that perked up every time Yongguk’s name reached his ears, was almost blinding as Junhong straightened up, the look in his eyes proud and smart.

Fridays were happy days for Junhong. Class would end and he’d run over to the front gates of his caged in school, screeching awkwardly for his older brother, who would always stand, propped up by the lined gates. They’d do their queer hugs and handshakes - the kisses had stopped in elementary school, much to Junhong’s disappointment - before rounding arms around each other and skipping off to do their own things. Usually, it meant catching a movie, eating dinner, and aimlessly wandering crowded streets of Seoul until the night grew too deep to keep wandering. Only then, would they begrudgingly return home and crawl under the covers bidding each other good night.

And sometimes, if Junhong was lucky, Yongguk welcomed the lanky teen to sleep with him.

Junhong was sure he and Yongguk held a record for being the closest siblings in the whole of Seoul. The whole world, perhaps.

“Then I guess it wouldn’t do tell you that I got that new gaming system?” Changhyun’s eyes gave a particular shine. He was testing him and Junhong was so close to taking the bait.

(But Yongguk was far more important than any stupid gaming system, even if Junhong had waited for its release since give-or-take five months.)

“What?” He gasped, frowning, glaring. “No way, I heard that they were complete sold out! The guy at the game store even died on the day it was released from being run over by crazy customers!”

This fact only seemed to have Changhyun grinning ridiculously, blowing invisible dust from his fingers as he polished it against his uniform vest. “I know some names and numbers.” He looked, sounded, proud; and rightfully too, because Junhong was close to dropping on his knees to worship.

“You are god.”

Changhyun’s mouth popped open for a reply, but was quickly cut off as one of the girls came running in from the back door of the classroom, forewarning their homeroom teacher’s arrival. That had every scrambling back into their seats, bumping knees and hips against wooden seats and desks on their way. It’d bruise in the morning, but was a sacrifice well made for being let out of class.

The boy gave a proud smirk before skipping off to his seat by the windows, Junhong following suit to his own just behind Changhyun and poking the shorter boy with a drawn whine.

Seconds after everyone had managed to bump themselves into their seats, the front sliding doors rolled open, greeted by the clip-clops of their homeroom teacher’s pointed heels. She had a smile on her face; she must have been in a good mood.

Ms. Jung - the class’s English teacher doubled up as their homeroom instructor - took a minute to survey the classroom, letting her students catch their breaths, pressing fingers to their left chest. She nodded out in question to the missing persons at desks, then quickly waved them off, deeming the arrival of the weekend far too important to delay for some kids who had to go before they pissed themselves.

“There isn’t anything new,” she mused, now turning down to flip through the sheets of papers she’d brought along. “But that doesn’t mean you guys are allowed to freely roam the streets all night this weekend.” Everyone flinched, just by a little. Guilty as charged. “I understand that it’s the weekend again, the golden weekends,” muffled cheers were sprout in response, “but as a third year, the senior population of our middle school, I expect each and everyone of you to be on your best behaviors.

“That means no visits to the police station.” As Ms. Jung mentioned this, a certain student in the far back of the classroom, Yookwon, blushed a faint pink coughing exactly twice to the roaming giggles.

It had been once, just once, that he got himself caught up by the law for helping his older friends tag walls. Yookwon clearly hadn’t thought there would have been a problem, until he was used as human sacrifice to everyone’s runaway.

The police caught him, red faced and nearly crying, and only just threatened the teen enough to be sure he’d never be caught even looking at a can of spray paint without pissing himself.

Shushing the class with a single wave of hand, the brunette teacher began again, pushing her plush lips to a line. “But since all of you guys did brilliant on our English exams yesterday, play all you guys want today,” this time, the cheers weren’t as well withheld, “but start studying again tomorrow, alright?” It wouldn’t have been an overstatement to say that they had what could have been the best homeroom teacher ever.

That having been said, the woman made around the classroom, her heels clopping awkwardly on the cleaned wooden floor, as she passed out the graded papers, making small notes of reassurance to those whose grades had fallen and giving a pat and round-of-applause to those grades that went up.

Junhong’s case was a little awkward.

By the time the woman had reached him, her brows had curled a little awkwardly together, cheeks huffed a little. Because how exactly do you scold a perfect grade with a hint of imperfection?

“Highest grade in class,” she offered the lanky teen, placing his grade, face-down, on his desk. “Don’t stress yourself too hard, alright?”

Then she was gone, walking back up to the front of the class with the final farewell greetings for the weekday. “I expect everyone to bring your grades back signed by your guardian, alright? And don’t even try to forge your parents’ signature, I’ll know.”

Junhong took the time to ignore - to sigh - the moans of protest from his fellow classmates before smashing his grade into his bookbag. He’d seen his grades and this one, he’d never feel right showing off to his parents. Not his poor working parents, who had once thought their baby boy was Einstein reincarnated.

Best score or not, his grade had still fallen since the last pop quiz.

“Class dismissed.”

Junhong was barely conscious of myself as the rest of the class bowed in accordance to the representative's call. His mind was a little somewhere else at the moment.

When the rest of his classmates all charged outside, getting stuck, three people at a time, at their tiny sliding doors, Junhong frowned, remaining seated at his spot in the back of the classroom. His stupid English grades had fallen. How was he supposed to show this to his parents? How was he to enjoy his Friday date with Yongguk with the weight of his B+ pulling against his shoulders?

Junhong had half a mind to just toss the stupid paper out.

“What’s wrong?” By the time the class had half cleared out, Changhyun was back at his side, realizing only halfway out of the school building the lacking of a certain too-tall-to-be-true friend by his side. “Usually, you’re practically plowing down everyone to hurdle to your brother by now.” Changhyun had his brows raised and hands on his hips, “Last week, I had to hold  you back by your hair to make sure you didn’t jump out the window.”

Pulling up a chair close by, the shorter boy sat down by his sulking friend, curiously tilting his head to the grouch that had settled on Junhong’s lips. Cocking his head, twisting it to better see Junhong’s expression, Changhyun gave him a poke on the nose, giving a loose grin.

“Did Yongguk text you that he can’t come and get you today?”

Junhong flinched, pulling out his phone with a held-in breath, only letting it out with a relieved sigh when he found his phone lacking messages of any kind. “No.” He glared, hissing, replacing his phone back to his pocket. “Don’t scare me like that.”

The shorter boy simply snickered, kicking back his chair and taking his best friend by the shoulder.

Changhyun had supposed as much. Yongguk had always been just as excited about their brother-brother outing as much as the baby brother.

“Come on then, he’s waiting, isn’t he? Lets go.”

Taking a hold of Junhong’s hand, Changhyun stood up, kicking back his chair, ignoring the obnoxious clatter - he seemed a master at the art of unintentionally making loud noises - of pseudo wood and metal against their tiled floors. He didn’t wait for his friend to gain his footing, smirking bright and immediately rushing out of their now empty classroom with a loud hoot.

Sometimes, Junhong found himself wondering what he did to deserve such a friend like Changhyun.

He always knew how to distract Junhong and get him back on his feet.

(Literately. Whether Junhong wanted to, or not.)

They slid down the stairs together, resting on the handle railings with their bums, hands securing them in place. The teachers didn’t like it - it’s too dangerous, they said - but it was, in fact, the easiest and fastest way to get down the stairs. So like it or not, students used the method as their number one method of transportation, given no faculty were in sighht.

On their way down, they talked animatedly - Junhong’s barely fallen grade going forgotten - about Changhyun’s new game. Junhong was more or less curious on how his friend had managed to get his hands on the device.

(They were meant to be sold out.)

“If you play without me, you’re officially off my best friends list.”

Junhong huffed, obviously lying, his cheeks bloated to a half-assed pout. He’d wanted the game since forever ago. Changhyun would have been a jerk to make Junhong go through the suffering again of learning that his friend had gotten to the game before he.

But Changhyun was nice. He was amazing, to be specific.

“No way, I’m no . You’re free on Monday, aren’t you? We can play together then.”

They fist bumped cheerfully, Junhong quickly pulling Changhyun into his arms soon after calling him the bestest friend in the whole wide world. Really, Junhong was far too lucky to have a friend like him - even if Changhyun was a little on the dumb side; even if Changhyun was the shrimp of their classroom, pulling down the class average height with his short.

Saying their farewells with another one of their - far too complicated to be convenient - handshakes, Junhong waved his shorter friend good bye with a smile and thumbs up. He couldn’t wait until Monday - though, Monday would have to wait while he spent his brother-brother time with Yongguk.

And with Changhyun gone, it took less than a second for Junhong to spot his older sibling, squinting into the sun’s glare to catch sight of his Yongguk leaned up against the granite stone marker that stood as a symbol to their school building. The older’s eyebrows were scrunched together in signs of thought as he scrolled through his phone, completely ignorant to the onlooking female middle schoolers who gawked from afar.

Black and red headsets over his ears, his trademark, plus the awkward mumbling of lyrics, it was obvious to say that Yongguk was currently in the process of a brand new song. One he’d too gladly present to Junhong once complete.

A bright smile - so stretched it was hard to even describe as a smile anymore - curling across his lips to hang on his ears, Junhong sprinted toward the distracted older male, tackling and curling automatically his arms around the hard surface of his older brother’s stomach.

“Yongguk!”

No matter how much they saw each other every day, Junhong would never get old of looking at his dearest older brother.

“Oh!”

Peeking up from Yongguk’s stomach where he’d wrapped himself around, Junhong gave a sheepish grin to Yongguk’s gasp. Yongguk should have been used to that by now - though, surprise was a hard reaction to become so suddenly become used to. He should have expected Junhong to all but knock the both of them onto the hard ground without warning.

“Junhong,” Yongguk breathed, his deep voice creeping straight down Junhong’s spine, “you surprised me.”

(It took all of Junhong’s self-control to keep from letting out a girly screech at the recognition. Would it have been creepy to say that he was his brother's number one fanboy?)

His words were scolding, but the smile on his face told him otherwise. Yongguk was smiling, folding his arms around Junhong’s waist with practiced care, just as he did every Friday. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

A laugh, twinkling and bright, and a stick out of tongue. “It’s not sneaking up if I called for you.”

Junhong’s eyes squinted into smiles, unknotting his fingers from behind Yongguk’s back to poke at the man’s headset, knocking it back over around his neck and freeing his ears to Junhong’s words.

“I called really loudly too! Yong! Guk! You should’ve been listening!”

Jerking out his bottom lip, Junhong teasingly pinched the man’s waist - frowning internally when he no longer felt the soft layer of fat (Yongguk had lost weight, again). Yongguk would have always listening to Junhong.

Nothing was more important.

“Sorry,” the older brother chuckled, slow and breathy, slim fingers snaking into Junhong’s hair and pushing the loose strands around. “I got a little carried away.”

“Doing?”

By this point, the passing by strangers had begun to point fingers, snickering and whispering crude comments on the brothers’ uncaring affection. Junhong didn’t care, but it was Yongguk who first pulled away, wrapping hands around Junhong’s wrists and pulling them apart, just enough to escape their binding hold.

(Junhong pouted, huffy and whiny. And Yongguk made up for it with a quick kiss to his forehead, swiping the dark locks of the baby brother’s bangs away for a split second before combing them back to place.)

“Writing.”

“Writing what?”

In a perfect world, Junhong would have swung himself around Yongguk’s waist at this point, breathing into Yongguk’s air and feeling the soft tickles of his exhales and laughs. He wouldn’t have had to maintain this so-called personal space - what was Yongguk’s was his as well - waiting in a distance not close nor far.

But this wasn’t a perfect world.

People watched, judged, and disapproved.

It wasn’t normal, they said, Junhong’s obsession of Yongguk.

(Bull , Junhong called. They were just jealous.)

“Something special.” But the smile, the gracious one that shined on him as Yongguk in a huff of air proudly, it was enough to sate Junhong’s annoyance for now. “A present, for you. You’ll see soon.”

As long as Yongguk was happy, so was he.

a/n: if you're experiencing deja-vu, then i'm here to say, yes, there is a chance that you've already read this chapter - especially if you've been subscribed to this story from before i took everything down. i've edited in new details to the chapter and will be rewriting the rest of the two to fit with the retouched plot (nothing major will change, just subtle tiny things. you probably don't even have to reread if you don't want to) as well as continuing on with the rest of the story.

updates will be every sunday kst. sometime during the day. unless of course mentioned otherwise.

was going to be thursday updates as was before; but then i really just wanted to post something today. this just happened to be the only thing i have written ahead of time. (i really need to finish chapter three and the rest and stop loafing off)

hope you enjoy.