God.  The place was so full but he felt terribly alone in this den of sadness and shared misery.  Sitting on the chair with his hands clasped before him, head hanging low between his shoulders, it was all Daehyun could do to hold himself together.  He knew this was coming, they both had, but it had still happened too fast and he wasn’t ready…  He would never be ready for this.  Another shaky breath made its way into his lungs as he stared at the ground between his feet, black shoes contrasting with the ugly red color of the carpet.  He hated this place already and yet… he couldn’t leave.

                A comforting hand clasped his shoulder gently and the only reason he didn’t jump was because he was still too numb.  He knew who it was before they even spoke though, his presence unshakeable and steady in the madness of Daehyun’s emotions.  “Are you ready, Dae?” the deep rumble reached his ears in a low tone, the sound just above a whisper as Yongguk leaned close to keep his voice from carrying.

                “I…” Daehyun breathed between barely parted lips, fingertips tightening into the back of his hands again.  “I can’t,” he admitted, his voice breaking by the end.

                Yongguk sighed next to him and shifted in front, kneeling before the broken young man as he clasped both hands in his and searched his eyes under the fall of too perfect hair.  He’d spent nearly a solid hour brushing the dark strands out simply because it required no thinking.  “We’re right here with you,” he whispered encouragement, caring face crumpling in his concern.

                Daehyun wanted to scream at him; it didn’t matter because he wasn’t, but another hand on his shoulder made him simply close his eyes and clench his jaw on the angry words.  “It’s alright, Daehyun.”

                Again, he had to fight the knee-jerk response to lash out, but it was Jongup, and the naïve kid had never been able to figure out the right thing to say at the right time.  “I can’t face him,” Daehyun exhaled instead, defeated where he sat as his more-slender-than normal frame slumped further in the chair.  Jongup’s arm caught him about the chest before he got very far, the quiet strength evident in his wiry frame, while one of Yongguk’s hands shifted to brace his shoulder, his grip firm.

                “You can’t leave him alone like this,” Jongup whispered, his voice shaking as he breathed into Daehyun’s ear, the desperate plea of a friend who was holding on by the barest of threads himself.

                “Jongup’s right,” another voice spoke up, drawing close on quiet steps.  “You won’t get another chance, Dae…”  Of course he would be the voice of reason.

                Daehyun leaned his head against Yongguk’s, taking a small breath before he forced himself to sit up again so he could see Youngjae.  His heart beat painfully against his chest as he looked at his best friend, the other male’s expression uncertain and hurt at seeing Daehyun so torn.  What did any of them know?  How dare they tell him what he needed to do!  But…  His burning eyes shifted to the doorway through which he could see a line of people shifting, their faces familiar but all of it meaningless to him.  Out there…  Going out there meant saying goodbye one last time.  He didn’t want to and yet, he’d been saying goodbye for months already.  What was one more time…?

                “Dae?” Yongguk murmured questioningly, one hand still on his shoulder as he drew the younger male’s attention back to him.

                He swallowed hard, the lump in his throat refusing to go away.  Turning back, he caught Youngjae’s eyes looking at him, blinking as his friend nodded once, mustering the semblance of an encouraging smile, though it was as forced as every other bit of false cheer they’d evidenced this day.  A glance at Jongup turned into a trembling hug from the younger boy as Daehyun endured it limply.  Wiping at tears on his lashes, Jongup stood up and stepped back, giving him a quick series of nods as he did so.

                It made Daehyun want to cry even more so he finally faced Yongguk who had yet to shed a tear in front of him.  The concerned expression that met his was sincere and supportive; it nearly broke him further as he murmured, “Will you come with me?”  His hands trembled at the request though it was the only outward sign of his distress.

                “Sure,” Yongguk responded smoothly, his mouth quirking to the side in a tentative half-smile.  He tightened his grip around Daehyun’s hands as he stood up and gently pulled the younger male with him.

                Daehyun made no effort to pull away and freed one hand to self-consciously brush at his suit.  He hated wearing suits.  The stuffy material always made him hot and the clothing felt far too formal at any occasion.  It was nothing more than a nervous gesture though, designed to buy him time and stall.  He knew Yongguk was aware of it and was grateful the other man didn’t rush him.

                Another look out the doorway revealed what he had not been able to see while sitting down: the coffin.  A dread chill went up his spine at the sight of the gleaming, black walnut surface with the top half open for all to see inside.  The interior was lined with white satin and he thought it was hardly a fitting color for the occasion.  It should have been black too, just to match his mood…

                Grabbing Yongguk’s hand tightly in his, he took his first tentative step, faltering slightly when Youngjae pat him on the shoulder and moved aside.  As he left the illusionary safety of the enclave he had been hiding in, the dispersing, meaningless faces came into focus abruptly and he felt his breath catch in his throat upon seeing the miserable expressions in turn.  Himchan and Hyosung were still nearby, clinging to each other for comfort; Luna was with them and she managed a pained smile in their direction.  He was just grateful neither of their parents were present anymore.  It was likely they’d stepped outside for there was no one left milling near the terrible coffin.

                His feet felt leaden as he approached, the distance seemingly never ending.  Half-way down the aisle, he paused and looked at Yongguk, firming his jaw as he did so.  “Just me,” he whispered, the low tone hiding the tremble in his voice.

                “Take your time,” Yongguk urged, grabbing Daehyun’s shoulder in a comforting gesture once more.

                Daehyun nodded and shifted slightly, resuming his arduous trek down the ugly, red carpet.  It was both the longest moment of his life and yet but an instant before he was there… his hands resting on the edge of the coffin as he looked down at the face that would never smile at him again.  His fingers tightened over the wood, fingertips digging into the plush interior as he smiled back at Junhong anyway, angry that it only looked like he was sleeping.

                A long breath hissed between his gritted teeth as he moved his right hand to smooth back the untamable blonde curls one last time.  His fingertips traced over smooth, cold skin and he sniffed as he wished those warm brown eyes would look at him once more.  “Junhongie,” he shuddered, letting his hand drift to rest atop the unmoving chest that was adorned by a suit not unlike his own.  The perfect, pale visage remained unchanged, no hint of life remaining in the once vibrant youth.  “Damn you,” he laughed bitterly, a broken smile claiming his face as he fought back the tears.

                He couldn’t break here.  He wouldn’t.

                Damn him for stealing his heart.  Damn him for making him so happy.  And damn him several times over for leaving him behind…  Taking a deep breath that threatened to turn into a sob, Daehyun leaned close to press his forehead against Junhong’s as he closed his eyes.  “I’m not saying goodbye.  I’m not,” he whispered in a rushed laugh, sniffing wetly.  “I love you, Junhongie,” he murmured, opening his eyes to stare at a face that refused to see him.  “I will always love you, baby,” he promised, shifting enough to press his lips against the cool forehead, fighting the chill that ran through him.

                Gathering his strength, he stood up, unable to resist caressing the smooth face one more time as he did so.  He swallowed his tears and resolutely turned his back, retreating from the man who had irrevocably changed his life.  His eyes met Yongguk’s as the elder male continued to wait patiently in the aisle, expression neutral.  Daehyun managed several steps while holding to the lie that he was alright.  He wouldn’t break; he wouldn’t cry; he wouldn’t…

                Daehyun’s footsteps faltered and he stopped altogether as a wave of feeling crashed over him, halting him in his tracks.  He couldn’t breathe and tears invaded his eyes while his knees simply gave, sending him crumpling to the ground as the awful reality rushed rampant through him.  He was gone…  Mute sobs wracked his body as he braced his hands on the floor before he felt strong arms enfold him in an embrace he immediately resented.

                “No…” he croaked, pushing against Yongguk weakly, trying to free himself in a half-hearted gesture.

                “I’m not going anywhere,” Yongguk soothed, simply tightening his hold.

                Immediately, Daehyun gave in with a muffled sob as he howled brokenly into Yongguk’s shoulder and clung to him tightly.  He was really gone.  Junhong was gone…

                Returning to the apartment they had shared together was painful.  The only thing that made the empty space bearable without his other half’s presence were the unforgettable memories they’d forged together here.  With his hand resting on the doorframe as he stood in the entrance, Daehyun could see Junhong smiling at him from the living room, young face lighting up happily as he got home.  But he blinked and the moment was lost, leaving him breathless in an empty apartment that no longer felt like home.

                Dejectedly, he closed the door behind him and tossed the jacket of his suit on the floor carelessly.  He took one step away before he turned around and picked it back up to hang it over a chair at least; Junhong wouldn’t have liked it if he left it on the floor.  He placed the back of his hand against his mouth and let his eyes wander over the rest of the place, feeling as if he was a stranger in another’s house.  His gaze landed on the pictures above the mantle and Daehyun drifted towards them, bypassing the furniture with practiced ease.

                His hand shook as he traced Junhong’s figure in the nearest picture.  It was one of them standing together in this very place.  Himchan had taken it not that long after they’d moved in.  Damn brat was always making him look short, even if he did bend his knees to try and make up for the difference.  The laugh that would have come died on his lips, exiting his mouth as a hiss instead as he balled his hand into a fist and beat it lightly against the mantle.

                Resolutely, Daehyun turned away from the memories and was instead besieged by new ones as he looked around the rest of the enclosure.  He didn’t even have to close his eyes to see them watching television on the couch together, feeding each other over the coffee table, playing some sort of board game Junhong wanted to try out on the floor…  The list went on, interrupted here and there by the angry moments that were still fresh in his mind as well: their argument when he found out how sick Junhong really was; the betrayal he’d felt at not being told; the self-loathing for not being able to see it himself; and the paralyzing fear he’d experienced when he understood he was going to lose him…

                He didn’t even realize he was balling his fist up again until he felt a sharp prick in his palm where the blunt edges bit into his skin.  “Damn,” he whispered, tracing his fingertips over the red crescents, frowning where one had gone through the skin.  He welcomed the pain though; it hurt less than the crushing feeling in his chest.

                Daehyun wandered into the kitchen to wash his hands and get a glass of water but paused at the threshold, seeing more flashes of memory run through his mind, their ghostly images transposed in the familiar space.  More times than he could count, they’d taken turns making breakfast and feeding each other at the dining table.  He could still see Junhong waiting impatiently with his chin resting on his folded hands while he watched him from the table, lean frame nearly bent halfway over the surface as he did so.

                “Not right now,” he whispered to himself, brushing the memory aside as he rubbed at his eyes with cold fingers.  Focusing steadfastly on the task at hand, he used the sink and then downed a glass of water before he retreated as fast as he could.  He stopped at the restroom as he caught sight of his face in the mirror and frowned at the haggard visage that looked back at him.  Was that really him?

                His cheekbones were sunken in and his eyes were shadows, deep, dark circles underlining the haunted orbs.  Even his complexion looked pale and drawn, almost like he was sick.  Daehyun scoffed at the thought.  Who was he kidding?  He was: heartsick.  Agitatedly, he undid the cuffs of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up so he could splash cold water on his face, scrubbing the chilly liquid against his too warm skin.  Rubbing his eyes hard, he turned the water off and stood up.

                “Junhong?” he whispered, staring into the mirror as he saw the young giant smiling behind him, alive and looking right at him.  His heart raced when he whipped around, only to fight a suffocating sense of disappointment and despair when there was nothing there.  “Get it together, Dae,” he groaned, wiping his mouth with his hand before he leaned against the sink, resting both palms against the hard edge.  His nails scraped against the wooden cabinet underneath as he gripped the surface fiercely, resisting the urge to punch the mirror.  “He’s not coming back.  You know that,” he hissed at himself, reaching out to turn the light off.

                That didn’t mean he could turn the memories off at will though.  Or shut out the heartfelt desire that all of this was nothing more than a cruel dream he would soon wake up from and find himself in Junhong’s loving embrace when he opened his eyes.  It certainly didn’t mean that he could just forget that everything about their room reminded him of Junhong when he finally trudged into the untouched haven: the dresser, the closet, the bookshelf, the wrinkled shirt lying over the desk chair near the computer, the… bed…

                They’d spent so much time in the hospital these past few months that he had almost forgotten what it looked like.  Hesitantly, he reached to pick up the plaid, button up shirt and just clutched it to his chest, letting the memories wash over him.  Closing his eyes, he raised the fabric to his nose and inhaled deeply, feeling his throat close and his fingers tighten when it still smelled like Junhong, the lingering scent of one of his colognes stained into the cloth.  Tears he couldn’t help spilled down his cheeks, soaking the fabric while he tried to shore up the swiftly breaking damn.  It was a losing battle though, and he knew it…

                Daehyun simply buried his face in the cloth and cried quietly before he blindly made his way to the bed and fell on top of the smooth surface.  He didn’t try to crawl underneath the covers but simply curled up into a ball with his knees to his chest, fully clothed and his shoes still on.  None of it mattered…  “I miss you so much, baby,” he sobbed, hiding his face completely as he shut out the overhead light.  If only he could do the same with his emotions.

                In the two days it took for Junhong’s body to be cremated and sufficiently prepared, Daehyun lived as a shadow of himself.  Though he had managed to convince his friends and family to leave him alone the day of the funeral, Youngjae at least would not be dissuaded after the fact.  Honestly, it was probably the only reason Daehyun got out of bed at all the next morning.

                The persistent knocking on the door was unwanted and unwelcome, but when it didn’t go away, a dejected Daehyun rolled out of bed in the same clothes he’d worn the other day, still clutching Junhong’s shirt.  In a numb daze, he stumbled towards the entrance and pulled the door open to glare at his best friend whose hand was raised to knock again.  “Go away,” Daehyun muttered while he tried to shut the door in his face.

                “Dae!” Youngjae complained, fighting back and wedging himself inside before his friend could lock him out.

                It really wasn’t much of a struggle, all things considered, and Daehyun stumbled back with an apathetic expression when Youngjae imposed his presence on him.  He didn’t want company; he didn’t want anybody here…  “What do you want?” he grumbled, not looking up to meet his friend’s eyes.

                “Are you still wearing the same clothes from yesterday?” Youngjae asked instead of answering the question.  Daehyun looked up in confusion, surprised by the response, and then looked down at himself, blinking at the rumpled attire.  “Thought so,” his friend sighed sadly.

                “Leave me alone, Jae,” Daehyun whispered, turning his back on the other male as he shuffled back to his bedroom.

                “Daehyun!” Youngjae exhaled, clearly worried and not entirely sure of what to do as he followed after.  Before Daehyun could lay down again, he grabbed his wrist carefully and halted him, waiting until the other male looked back.

                Angrily, Daehyun yanked his wrist free and rounded on Youngjae, snapping, “I don’t want you here!”

                “I know,” Youngjae agreed immediately, blinking at the heated tone.

                “Then go away and just leave me alone!” he yelled, stepping closer to the younger male aggressively.

                “No!” Youngjae retorted defensively, holding his ground though there was a hint of fear in his eyes.

                “Why not?!” Daehyun snarled, feeling angry tears threaten.

                Youngjae took a hesitant step back but scrounged up his courage and forged ahead, “Because you shouldn’t be alone right now.”

                Daehyun scoffed at him as he gestured agitatedly with his free hand.  “I want to be alone!”

                “No one wants to be alone!  Least of all you!” Youngjae shot back reactively, daring Daehyun to deny it.

                 “Gyah!” Daehyun growled, pulling at his hair in frustration before he whirled around and slammed the door behind him, barring Youngjae from entering as he slid down against the wooden surface to block the entrance with his body.

                He winced when the door vibrated behind him, rapid knocking at the top humming against his back.  “Daehyun!  Open the door!” Youngjae demanded, trying the handle only to find that while it was unlocked, it was also impossible to move without serious force.

                “No,” Daehyun pouted, holding Junhong’s shirt close with one hand while he wrapped his arm around his knees with his other, pulling them to his chest.  He bit his bottom lip as silent tears spilled from the outside of his eyes and listened to see what would happen next.

                Youngjae tried for a couple more minutes before he at least left the door alone, but Daehyun knew he didn’t leave.  He wouldn’t leave the apartment now; not with how things stood between them.  It didn’t take him long to realize that his friend was cooking if the smell seeping in from under his door was any indication.  He didn’t want food; he didn’t want anything.  Except for Junhong and that just wasn’t happening…

                Eventually, his stomach decided enough was enough and reminded him he hadn’t eaten in close to two days already.  Had it really been that long?  As carefully as he could, he unfolded himself from his balled up spot, wincing at the cramped feeling of limbs left too long in one position, and clambered back to his feet.  Bracing his forehead against the smooth, wooden door, he took several deep breaths as he convinced himself to go back out again.

                He knew he should probably feel bad about yelling at Youngjae but he didn’t; he didn’t feel much of anything.  Mutely, he shuffled into the kitchen and simply set himself at the table, both hands resting on the surface though the one continued to clutch Junhong’s shirt.

                “Hey,” Youngjae greeted, grabbing Daehyun’s attention enough that he looked up to see his friend smiling tentatively at him.  And though Daehyun didn’t smile back, Youngjae’s expression failed to falter as he continued to put on an act in his presence.  “I know you probably haven’t had a chance to eat so I thought you might like some breakfast,” he explained softly, busying himself at the stove as he plated the scrambled eggs he’d just finished cooking.

                Daehyun pulled his hands back to his lap and looked down without agreeing, but he didn’t actually deny it either.

                “That’s alright.  You don’t have to say anything, Dae,” Youngjae promised him, carefully setting the plate down in front of Daehyun as he pushed it close and then stepped back to get a glass for the juice he found in the fridge.

                For a long moment, Daehyun just stared at the food, watching tendrils of steam rising from the eggs as they gradually cooled in the air.  His gaze flickered to Youngjae when the blonde set the glass down nearby but resumed his focus on the food, glaring at it.  He resented that he needed to eat at all and that Junhong wasn’t here to share it with him.  Wisely, Youngjae remained silent but when Daehyun reached out to pull the plate closer to him, reluctantly picking the food up with his fingers, he could feel his friend’s approval and relief.  Ah, it.

                One piece of bacon disappeared first, followed by another and another until the plate was clean and Daehyun found himself staring at the empty surface wondering where it had gone.  He still didn’t feel any better but at least he wasn’t as ready to bite Youngjae’s head off at any moment.

                When he glanced up at the young man seated across from him, Youngjae smiled and nodded once.  “I’m not leaving you alone,” he reiterated calmly.

                Daehyun scoffed at the statement and rolled his eyes as he leaned back in his chair, cradling the shirt under his chin with both hands.  He couldn’t exactly say he was surprised.  No smile came to his lips but he did finally meet Youngjae’s gaze as he gave the barest of nods in acknowledgement, and he was lucky to be getting that.

                While he was still immensely irritated by his friend’s forced presence, he was also… grateful in the end.  Youngjae provided a barrier against the overwhelming memories that threatened to swamp him any time he spent more than a few moments in any part of the apartment by himself.  He eventually plugged his completely dead phone in to charge and took a shower just to shut Youngjae up, being very careful not to get Junhong’s shirt wet in the process.  Even afterwards, he changed into his own clothes but kept the overly large article close, feeling slightly grounded by the item.  It gave him something to focus on and though he saw Youngjae looking at it questioningly, he knew it wouldn’t take him long to figure it out.

                The rest of their first day together was uncomfortable, to say the least.  Daehyun retreated to his room and cried himself to sleep again while he left Youngjae to crash on the couch when it was time to go to bed.  The second day was just as awkward, and if Daehyun hadn’t been so focused on his own misery, he probably would have commended Youngjae for as much as he was putting up with in the meantime.  Everything changed on the third though…

                Another unexpected knock on the door had both Youngjae and Daehyun looking at each other curiously.  By unspoken agreement, the former got up to answer and they were equally surprised to see Jieun, Junhong’s sister, standing in the opening, a medium sized, ceramic urn clutched to her chest with trembling hands.

                “Is Daehyun-” she stopped when she saw him over Youngjae’s shoulders as he stood up, their eyes meeting in uncomfortable recognition.

                “Ne,” Youngjae confirmed anyway, stepping aside so that Daehyun could take his place while he watched from the background instead.

                “Jieun,” Daehyun nodded as he stood before her, looking down at her shorter, petite frame.  It was always hard to remember she was Junhong’s older sister.

                “We… uh…” she trailed off, glancing down at the urn in her hands with a pained expression.  Sniffing loudly, she tossed the stray strands of her auburn bangs out of her face and tried again.  “Umma and appa have said… they said it’s time,” she amended, carefully extending the container towards Daehyun with a heartbroken look in her eyes as tears pooled on the long lashes.

                For a long moment, Daehyun stared at the white and blue container, a shiny glaze covering the entirety of it.  “Junhong…” he breathed, reaching to clasp numb fingers around it reverently.  Since they’d all known in advance what his wishes were, Junhong and Daehyun had spoken to his family about the cremation process and what they intended for afterwards.  This was the part that Daehyun had been wishing for and dreading for days now…

                Jieun placed her hands atop Daehyun’s and looked up into his eyes, drawing strength from somewhere to speak.  “You always did your best to make my brother happy when he was alive.”  She had to pause to take a breath and wipe away the tears with a quick hand but she continued, “I need you to take care of him one more time.”  Her voice became tight as she continued to speak, the words strained and small.  “Just like he wanted.  Ne?” she asked, tightening her grip on his hands as she searched his eyes with hers.

                For the first time in days, Daehyun felt a stab of honest pain in his chest as he saw the same ache he felt in Jieun’s eyes.  They had both lost one they loved very much…  “Of course,” he swallowed thickly, demanding the tears hold off for just a little while longer.  A strangled noise escaped his throat when she stepped forward to hug him desperately, careful not to jostle the urn between them.

                “Thank you for loving him,” she whispered, burying her face in his shoulder as she cried quietly.

                Daehyun had no words he could offer in return.  They simply wouldn’t come even when he tried to think of something so he just tightened his arms and nodded fervently in agreement.  It had always been easy loving him, after all.

                Jieun didn’t stay long and Daehyun was grateful for it.  He was only able to hold the tears at bay until the door was shut behind her and then Youngjae was there, offering what silent support he could.  He comforted Daehyun and held him as the older male cradled Junhong’s ashes close, hiccupping softly as he cried.  It wasn’t until Daehyun’s phone went off several times in a row that Youngjae finally got up to check it.

                “It’s Yongguk,” he explained, holding the device towards Daehyun.

                Hesitantly, Daehyun accepted the phone and placed it to his ear.  “Ne?”

                “Hey, Dae,” the warm, deep voice flowed over the receiver like a soothing balm that was filled with unending strength.  “I got a call from Channie just a moment ago.  Did you still need someone to drive you?”

                Daehyun blinked slowly as he processed the statement and then recalled what he had asked Yongguk to do before all of this had happened.  He looked up at Youngjae with a lost look.  The standing male simply smiled at him and nodded, solving the confusion for him.

                “Ne,” he murmured in response, nodding along with the answer.

                “Alright.  I’ll be over in an hour.  Does that work for you?”  Again, it took a moment to process before he looked at Youngjae once more with a similar result.

                “Ne.”  Yongguk chuckled at his one word responses, unoffended by the brevity of their conversation.

                “Why don’t you give the phone to Youngjae again,” Yongguk suggested, which Daehyun was only too glad to do.

                He was more than happy to let them work on the details of the trip.  It shouldn’t take too long.  His eyes turned to focus on the urn again and he raised it to rest his forehead against the cool surface.  “Junhongie…” he murmured, closing his eyes as he pictured the young man in his mind, alive and well.  “I love you baby.”

                It was weird to be sitting in a car with the music playing in the background and the world passing by as if nothing monumental had altered the course of Daehyun’s life.  Weirder still that he should be holding all that was left of the man he had loved so completely in a container on his lap, the urn replacing his shirt instead.  His laced fingers held it close against his abdomen as he cradled it protectively, the skin between his fingers sweaty from being in the same position for so long.  He didn’t mind though, so long as he could hold onto Junhong for just a little bit longer.

                “We’re almost there, Dae,” Yongguk reminded him softly from the driver’s seat, his calm expression looking over to give his companion an encouraging smile.

                How did he maintain such a façade all the time?  Daehyun didn’t know and it didn’t matter just then.  He was simply grateful it existed because Yongguk had been a constant source of strength that had not let him fall yet.  And he knew he would need it one more time for this last trek of theirs…  “Okay,” he murmured in response, nodding once before he looked out the window again, taking note of the snow covered trees as they made their way up the mountain in the tail end of the day.

                The ski resort they were heading to wasn’t anything particularly special.  It didn’t have stellar reviews or any remarkable attractions about it at all.  But for Junhong and Daehyun, it was one of the first places they’d gone together as a couple.  Daehyun hadn’t known how to ski or snowboard but Junhong had insisted he try.  It wasn’t like he could refuse his boyfriend anything anyway though, so after several mouthfuls of snow, Daehyun had finally gotten a very tentative handle on snowboarding.  He couldn’t handle anything more than the bunny slope, pretty much ever, but the look on Junhong’s face had been worth every tumble, and then some.

                Daehyun was briefly confused when his face felt odd and after he checked himself in the mirror, he understood why: he was smiling.  It wasn’t huge or anything close to a grin but it was genuine and he couldn’t help but laugh once, drawing Yongguk’s eyes.  “Junhong,” he whispered with a hint of joy in his tone.

                Yongguk placed a gentle hand on his upper arm and smiled back with a nod.  “I know.”

                The expression didn’t last long, but the warm feeling from the memory continued to linger in Daehyun’s chest as they pulled into the parking lot of the resort.  He stayed in the car while Yongguk got out to speak with the owner, confirming their permission for the request they’d sent him weeks ago.  It didn’t take long and before Daehyun knew it, his door was being pulled open.

                “Is it time already?” he asked softly, looking at Yongguk like a lost child.

                “Ne.  Come on, Dae.  You’re almost there,” Yongguk urged, offering his hand for the younger male to take.

                Daehyun gripped it tightly, holding Junhong’s remains close to his body with his other hand as he shivered in the cold air.  The winter coat had been almost too hot in the car but here it didn’t seem quite enough.  Looking around, he took a deep breath, watching the plume of mist appear in front of his face.  “We’re ready,” he nodded, squeezing Yongguk’s hand once.

                “Alright,” his companion smiled, leading the way as they trekked through the snow.

                There was a brisk wind that kicked up little whorls of snow as they went but it was all for the better really.  The pair made their way to the ski lift, watching the slow progress of the carts as they were carried up the mountainside on perpetually moving wires.  It wasn’t difficult to get on one together, sitting close for the warmth as their feet were lifted from the ground and they made their way to the top, shivering from the chill.  Surprisingly, the slopes were unusually empty and Daehyun had to wonder if it was a courtesy the owner was offering in light of his task.

                When they got to the top, Yongguk got off with him and kept a steadying hand on his arm.  “You good?”

                Daehyun’s knees were shaking and he felt like he might throw up at any moment but he nodded anyway.  “Ne.  I’m good,” he confirmed with as much confidence as he could muster.

                “Alright.  Take as much time as you need.  I’ll be at the bottom waiting for you,” Yongguk grinned, the gummy expression mildly infectious.

                With his heart racing in his chest, Daehyun watched Yongguk get on the descending lift and clutched Junhong’s ashes closer.    He waited for several moments until he couldn’t see his friend anymore and then had to convince himself.  “You can do this, Dae,” he stated, taking another misty breath as he steeled his determination and got onto the lift, clutching the urn close.

                As his feet lifted away again, it felt almost like he was flying into the heavens as he looked ahead and saw the entirety of the mountain stretching before him.  He felt like an insignificant speck in a sea of trees and the beginnings of stars as the sun began to set.  It was much colder with the light disappearing but infinitely more beautiful.  “Baby?” he asked, his gaze riveted on the multicolored horizon.  “We’re here.”  He finally dropped his eyes to the urn in his hands while he picked it up before him, as if he could hold Junhong up to show him the same sight.

                “I hope you know I’m still mad at you,” he chided, glaring at the urn.  “You should have told me from the beginning.  Brat,” he grumbled, bringing it close to place his forehead against the cold surface.  “But I understand why you didn’t.  And I do forgive you, baby.  I do,” he whispered, feeling his chest grow tight at the words.

                He shifted the urn to clutch it to his chest as he looked out into the sea of slowly appearing stars.  “This isn’t goodbye either, you know,” he stated, swallowing once.  “I promised you forever and you didn’t give me the chance to follow through.  You know what that means don’t you?” he snorted, pausing as if waiting for a response.  “Exactly,” he nodded to himself.  “I’ll find you again, Junhong.  In this life or the next.  Because you owe me, dammit.”  Hot tears stung his cheeks as he laughed once and nodded to himself again.  He knew it was time but it was so hard to let go.

                Resolutely, he pulled the top off the container and stared into the dark interior, seeing nothing but gray powder amassed within: ashes and the remnants of memories.  All that was left of Junhong…  “I love you baby,” Daehyun whispered one more time before he held the container in front of him, took a deep breath and… tilted it forward, sending the ashes cascading into the open air in a morbidly beautiful stream..

                Daehyun held his breath as he saw the powdery motes dancing in the wind, giving his Junhong a vibrant, joyful sendoff even in this final reprieve.  Even when he was reduced to nothing more than a memory and a handful of ashes, he was still beautiful...  After all they’d been through, the man he wanted to spend his life with was gone.  No more would they smile or laugh together; no more would they spend hours in each other’s company; no more would they argue about who got the last bite of cheesecake, even if Daehyun always did.  No.  A brilliant flame that had burned up too soon, Junhong had become what Daehyun was going to be eventually himself.

                Nothing more than dust in the wind.