The rain pelted against him. He swore he even felt some hail slap his neck and face. He pulled up the hood to his drenched jacket, hoping it would offer some form of protection.

He should have been in bed. He should have been wrapped up in his blankets, or reading a story to his younger sister. He should not have been running through the middle of the city. He most certainly should not have been running around the shadier parts of the middle of the city, drenched in rain.

But Hansol couldn't help it. He had to go somewhere where there were less people. Somewhere he could just think and be alone.

He had to get away.

Why did that alleyway look so dark? Was that a twig snapping Hansol had heard? No, he was in the middle of the city — there were no trees or twigs. Surely that blood curdling scream was in his mind. And that glass smashing couldn't have been real.

Hansol didn't want to take any chances.

With a speeding heart, Hansol ran faster. He thought it impossible that he could speed up, but fear and adrenaline had gotten to him, so speed up he had.

Half an hour later, Hansol was on a swing at a park. He was glad he'd come across somewhere he could be alone. Somewhere he could think. Somewhere he might be able to feel happy. Somewhere no-one could tease or shun him.

Somewhere he could pretend to be normal.

He'd already gone through so much — even his father had told him he wasn't normal. At first, his mother had begged him to stop playing games, to tell the truth or try to turn it off, so he could be like everyone else. Then, after Hansol came home on cloud nine because he'd had first kiss, his mother had accepted it. His father however, had hit him. Not physically, but emotionally. He'd stopped talking to the boy, even at dinner times and during the news. He stopped looking at him, and only responded in any way at all when really neccessary.

His father had dismissed his existance.

And Hansol couldn't take anymore of it.

So he ran away.

Maybe it hadn't been the best decision, it was rather rash and ill thought out. Hansol had left with only a small backpack of clothes, his phone and his wallet. He'd probably go back home before the night was over, especially in this weather.

A shiver wracked through Hansol's body at the same time as he heard something scuffling on the ground behind him. He should have whipped his head to look behind him, to make sure nobody was there with a knife, or a gun, or a chainsaw. He should have sprung up to be on his feet, to be on high alert.

But instead, he was frozen with terror, unable to look behind him.

He heard the chains of the swing next to him clatter, and supposed his murderer had decided to play a game.

Cautiously, Hansol looked to his left. The person on the swing next to him was playing with a cigarrette lighter, flicking it on and off and darting his fingers through the flame. The person was also, surprisingly, dry. Looking around himself, Hansol noted the rain had let up, then directed his gaze back to the boy with the lighter.

The other person must've noticed he was being watched, because he looked up. The stranger looked to the swing beside him, straight at Hansol. The stranger was glaring at him. The younger boy, for it was obvious the stranger was the oldest of the two, looked away.

"Yeah, that's right. Look away, wimp," The stranger muttered to himself in triumph.
"You speak English?" Hansol couldn't contain his surprise — the stranger had an American accent!

"Listen kid, you shouldn't be out so late at night. Especially when you're drenched like you are. Why don't you scurry back home and get to sleep?" the stranger advised.

Hansol shook his head.

"I can't do that. My dad threatened to kick me out if I didn't comply to his biggest rule. I can't at the moment, so I'm taking time out." Hansol really didn't want to explain any more than that, so he hoped the stranger didn't ask anymore questions. But unfortunately, he did. The stranger asked what the biggest rule was.

"No boys," Hansol answered simply.
"What do you mean, no boys? As in you can't be a boy?" The stranger asked, confused.
"No, as in I can't like boys," Hansol explained, not wanting to. The stanger nodded and let out a small "ahh".

"So you're out here for the same reason I am." The stranger started swinging slowly back and forth on his swing.

Hansol was taken aback.

"So, you like boys?" Hansol asked for clarification. He knew people like him existed, but he didn't think he'd ever talk to someone who admitted it as openly as this stranger.
"No, my dad kicked me out because I'm straight," the stranger said sarcastically.

They were quiet again. The strange boy in the same position as Hansol went back to playing with his lighter.

And Hansol was left to his own thoughts, which were occupied by the boy next to him. He was quite good looking, if Hansol were to be honest. If Hansol were to be even more honest, he would admit he wanted to kiss the older boy. Just to see what it would be like to kiss someone older, more experienced. Just to see if it would get a little heated...

"Kid, what's your name? You might be okay with kissing strangers, but if someone's going to be fantasing about my tongue being in their mouth, I want to at least know their name. And while your sitting there fantasing, if you moaned my name I might be tempted to actually kiss you," the stranger interrupted Hansol's daydream.

"My name's Hansol. Was I really daydreaming aloud?" Hansol really hoped he hadn't been. He was a teenage boy of fifteen, his mind was capable of coming up with some eted things. Thankfully, the most it came to was fairly innocent touching arms and a little bit of tongue.

The stranger nodded.
"I think 'strange lighter kid' is a bit strange. Aren't names normally moaned? Or at least something shorter." Hansol blushed. The stranger hadn't been telling the truth! He'd just been joking around.
"Hehe, couldn't you have waited a little longer to interrupt my thoughts? You almost had my belt undone," Hansol decided to play along. The stranger almost dropped his lighter.
"You – I – belt — what?" the stranger spluttered. Hansol chuckled, shaking his head.
"Relax, I was just playing around. Hey, you know my name, but I don't know your's. That doesn't seem fair," Hansol whined.

The stranger seemed taken aback. Was it possible that this fine specimen of gay male hadn't expected to at least be asked his name? After a moment of hesitation, the stranger answered.
"Just call me Jisoo." Hansol nodded. Jisoo was a Korean name, and this boy looked Korean, so at least the name made a little sense.

Jisoo stared at the ground around the swings they were on. His gaze focused on a small patch of ground, and after a few seconds he moved on to look at a different patch of ground. He seemed to be searching for something. Intrigued, Hansol asked what Jisoo had lost.
"Not much, just my lighter. I was tossing it up and catching it, but I dropped it. It doesn't matter that I lost it, I have plenty of others at home. I just want to find it so some little kid doesn't find it and hurt himself with it. Or burn down the park or something like that." Jisoo got up from his swing, crouched down, and started lightly dragging his hands over the ground, moving around slightly.

Hansol didn't think he'd seen the older boy throwing the lighter. He said so, and Jisoo replied that he'd dropped it the first time. This caused a burst of laughter from Hansol, who then got up to help him find it.

Just as he crouched down to help, Hansol hesitated.
"You don't smoke anything, or set things on fire, do you?" He remembered Jisoo's American accent, that they'd been talking in English the whole time, and suddenly all the things his mother had told him about being an American teenager came flooding back to him. Jisoo shook his head and answered an immediate no.
"I sing, smoking would ruin my vocal chords. I only keep the lighter with me for when I need light, or get bored." He offered in explanation when Hansol gave him a look asking for a proper answer. Jisoo stood back up, held up his lighter, and walked back to the swing he'd previously occupied. "I found it, you can stop searching."

Once back on his swing, Jisoo flicked the flame alive, and resumed darting his fingers through it.

Hansol was entranced. Jisoo had been doing it on and off all night, but hadn't once complained about his fingers being burnt. Hansol shuffled closer to watch.
"How do you do that without burning your fingers?" Hansol asked quietly, almost in a whisper so as not to break the other boy's concentration.

"By being quick. Here, give me your hand," Jisoo plucked one of Hansol's hands from the boys side, "and I'll show you. Are you ready? I won't let it hurt you." Hansol thought what Jisoo had said was strange. He wouldn't let a flame hurt him? How could you control something like that. Before Hansol had time to analyse the statement, Jisoo had already glided the younger boy's fingers through the flame.

Hansol hadn't even noticed.

"There, see. I told you." Jisoo seemed very smug about it. He opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a phone.
"Oh, bloody hell. I have to get back home, sorry Jisoo. Maybe we can see each other around? You look sort of familiar, maybe I've seen you around before. Well, see ya," Hansol walked to the road, and fortunately for the older boy who wanted to make sure he got home safely, was stopped by a random car that cruised by the park. Hansol was sure the car drove by extra slowly just to annoy him. He didn't have the time for this, he needed to be home in fifteen minutes before his father came out looking for him, and probably belted him once he found him. The car finally passed, and Hansol bolted for it.

"Hansol, you brat! Slow down so I can walk you home to make sure you get there safely!" Jisoo caught up to Hansol and began walking slightly behind him.
"You say you want to make sure I get home safely, but then you follow me like a stalker," Hansol mused, stopping. Jisoo stopped too.
"What?" asked the older boy, alarmed by the sudden stop.
"Nothing, I was giving you time to catch up," Hansol shook his head. Had Jisoo even been listening? Now side by side, the boys began walking.

They walked in silence, brooding over their night. It had been a pleasant night for both of them.

They'd found somebody like themselves.

When they were about a block away from his house, as he'd infotmed the elder anyway, Hansol slipped his hand to Jisoo's, entwining them. With a pounding heart, Hansol looked at the other from the corner of his eye. Had Jisoo even noticed? If so, was he comfortable with it? Hansol hoped the answer to both his unasked questions was yes. He saw the older boy look down at their hands and smile, and decided that yes, the older boy was okay with it.

"Well, this is my place. If dad wasn't home I'd invite you to stay here until you sort stuff out with your parents, but he's the reason I had to come back. So um, like, maybe could I – will I ever – is it possible that..." Hansol stopped speaking. He sounded like a school girl! He knew exactly what caused it, Jisoo. More specifically the butterflies in his stomach, his sweaty hands, his clouded brain, and his desire to see Jisoo again.
"Is it possible that... what? Sorry, I'd give you my phone number, email, Facebook, Twitter, frigging anything! but, well, my parents have my phone, so it's not gonna happen. I would like to give you something as a goodbye gift, though." Hansol's eyes shot open. What could Jisoo offer him that he couldn't possibly have? It sounded really spoilt, but Hansol had a lot more than the other boy did at that moment. "Close your eyes," Jisoo instructed.

Hansol closed his eyes, held out his hands, and waited. And waited, and waited and waited and waited. Then waited some more, until finally (after felt like aeons was really less than two minutes), Jisoo lowered Hansol's hands. Hansol felt something on his lips, he guessed it was another pair of lips — Jisoo's — but had to make sure. Jisoo wouldn't really kiss him, would he? They'd joked about it on the swings, but he was young and awkward, obviously without much experience, and Jisoo was older, obviously experienced, and looked like a bloody god! Hansol opened one eye, peeking at the older boy. After about a half second he noticed Jisoo's eyes were open, probably to analyse his reaction.

What if the kiss was just a joke? It would explain why an experienced god would kiss an awkward kid. How old was Jisoo anyway? He seem a lot older, maybe three or four years.

After five seconds that felt like five minutes, but was still to short for Hansol, Jisoo pulled away. The older boy looked down shyly, scuffing the ground with the toe of his shoe.
"Sorry if that was too forward. I just really wanted to kiss you when I saw you on the swing, and well, that urge didn't go away. I'm sorry, I probably freaked you out — you don't know me. Hell, you don't even know my age! I could be some strange, deranged twenty year old creeping on kids for all you know! So umm, yeah, see ya... maybe. I'm always in the park at around the same time as tonight — unless my mum's taken pity on me and let me sleep on the couch." Jisoo turned away from Hansol, and walked.

"Wait! I have something I want to give you, too," Hansol called out, not caring if he woke any of the neighbours up at one in the morning. Jisoo looked back. He clearly hadn't expected the younger boy he'd just kissed to call out to to him. Much less to want to give him something.
"You sure? What do you want to give me?" Jisoo was already jogging back to Hansol.
"A thimble." Hansol hoped Jisoo knew about Peter Pan, or this was about to become embarrassing.

At the mention of a thimble, Jisoo smirked.
"Like Peter Pan?" he clarified. Hansol nodded in affirmation. The two boys were about half a metre apart, in front of Hansol's house — as they had been earlier. Hansol promptly closed the gap, placing his lips on Jisoo's. He began moving his lips, hoping the other boy would understand that he had hormones that demanded the kiss become something more than just lips touching. Quite to Hansol's pleasure, the older boy did understand, and, judging by the fierceness of his lips against Hansol's own, he felt quite the same. Hansol moved his hands to tangle them in Jisoo's hair, pulling at it. And this was without tongue. Hansol couldn't remember ever feeling this. Like his lung's need for oxygen was beaten by his lips' need for Jisoo. Like he wanted a lot more from Jisoo, but was scared about it. Hansol wasn't entirely sure how all that stuff worked between guys anyway. For now, he was happy with what he had. Jisoo's lips.

All to soon for Hansol, but also not soon enough for his lungs, Jisoo broke the kiss. Both were breathing hard, gasping for air. Jisoo had the biggest grin on his face, but Hansol was sure that, somehow, his was larger.
"Wow," Hansol breathed.
"Yeah, you're a bit inexperienced, but it was a good kiss. Not quite wow, but I am older than you. So I can stop feeling like a dirty old man preying on a child, could you please tell me your age? I feel really guilty for wanting to use tongue."
"I was born in February, 1998," Hansol answered.
"So pretty much only two years difference. Ok then, cool. Not the best outcome, but it explains your lack of expertise. So, see you at the park sometime? I'd like to do that again, if it's okay." Jisoo sounded very uncertain and as if he was sure the younger boy would reject him.

Hansol couldn't believe what he was hearing. Jisoo wanted to kiss him again sometime! How freaking cool was that! Inside, he was all butterflies and excitement, but Hansol wanted to come off as confident and in control. Or at least not desperate. He didn't want to come off as disinterested though. Hansol nodded, then half shrugged.
"Sure. I'd like to, so I'll try drop by one night and we can continue. If I get a chance."
"Cool," Jisoo nodded, with a huge grin still on his face. "Well, see you. For real this time." Jisoo motioned towards Hansol's front door, as if to say he wanted to make sure Hansol got home and inside safely. Hansol took the hint, waved goodbye and fished inside his jacket pocket for his house key.

Once the door was open, Jisoo could see the figure of a woman in a nightgown questioning Hansol. He assumed it was Hansol's mum. The woman stepped out the door.
"Thanks for making sure my son got home safely!" She shouted, closing the door as she went back back inside. So his assumption had been correct. As the door closed, he could see Hansol waving goodbye behind his mother.

Back inside, Hansol ran to the window, which he was unsurprised to find a book and his mother's phone next to, and pulled the curtain slightly to the side. He was sure his mother had been watching him and Jisoo before he'd even opened the door, and his suspicions had simply been confirmed when she pounced him at the door, interrogating him about his kiss with a boy she'd never met before.

With a strong resolve to visit the park the following night and probably the night after that, Hansol decided the embarrassment he'd just suffered at the hands of his merciless mother would be worth getting to know Jisoo better. Especially of it meant more kisses.

With a new found determination, Hansol watched the boy with the lighter wander back to the park.

A/N:

Thinking about turning this into a multi-chaptered fic eventually.