A/N: I will say this one more time, this is going to be super short and simple. Just a little bit of a writing exercise that I fell in love with and hope you all enjoy too. And I already have part two finished so yes, it will be up in a few days~ after I leave Paris and head back to London ^-^

Jiyong

Public transport is a funny thing. It's one of the only times you can find yourself squashed into a tiny, cramped space with a crowd of strangers you're likely to never see again, despite travelling to the same destination. You and the stranger must live close by to each other to be catching the same bus or train home; and yet you've never seen their face before and you won't see it again after you get off at your stop.

Passing by strangers isn't the only peculiar thing about public transport; there is an entire list of weird and sometimes not so wonderful things which are special only to the public transport system. To list them all would take longer than the journey Jiyong is currently taking thanks to the bus route M47. So instead, we'll focus on the one thing which really bothers Kwon Jiyong.

A young boy - no make that young man. The exciting age of seventeen, not quite ready for the taste of freedom yet but looking forward to the future ahead of him with bright eyes. In his last crucial year of high school before he'll have to make the first in a long line of difficult life choices. Let's just say that after relying on public transport to get him safely to school in the mornings and back home in one piece in the evenings, Jiyong has caught enough busses to fill every line in his crinkled notepad.

The one thing which Jiyong notices every time he steps onto the crowded, stuffy busses is that the issue of personal space is a very tricky battleground. On any given day your preference over having a wide bubble of free air space around you could completely evaporate like water on the steaming hot pavement and against your better judgement, you find yourself happily leaning against the warm arm of your seat partner. Those hot summer days when the driver cranks the air conditioning so high you can hear the engine groaning in protest and feel the wheels turn sluggish, the comfort of someone's touch, even if it's a complete stranger is something Jiyong craves.

It's not every day this sneaks up on him and it's certainly not every person he has to share a squashed seat with either. It's saved for those rare occasions when he wishes his parents were home more often and for those special passengers who have a kind face. When it does happen, Jiyong is always grateful for the moment when he steps off the bus and he can leave that momentary lapse in judgement behind him.

So he should find it very odd that on this day, the longest, most tiresome, horrible hot day he's had all week, he can't seem to tear his eyes away from the handsome stranger sitting across from him. When they both got on the bus all the seats in the back half were already occupied, leaving only the first few bench seats which sit sideways free. Jiyong had crammed himself between two rather large older men who reaked of strong aftershave and eggy mayo that stained one of their shirts. The other had a bad cough which felt like nails down a blackboard every time he spluttered into his wrinkled handkerchief.

The whole ordeal had been so unpleasant that Jiyong didn't even notice the man sitting directly opposite him until the bus had slowly dwindled down to only a few last stragglers who live right at the end of the line. There was no one left in the front half of the bus now except for the two of them. Kwon Jiyong, the senior high schooler and Choi S. clearly a businessman thanks to the gold letters spelling his name on his briefcase. From all the busses over the years, Jiyong has seen many men in suits but no one, absolutely no one, can compare to the way this man wears his suits. Just to be sure he's not accidentally staring at an advertisement for men's suits, Jiyong has to rub his eyes a few times before realising that chiseled jaw and those broad shoulders and long legs are real.

It's no secret to Jiyong that he finds men more beautiful than women but this is the first time he's felt this light fluttering inside his chest from staring at another man. He has to thank his lucky stars that the businessman is fast asleep and almost snoring so he is free to stare and ogle over him to all his hearts content. It's not just the strangers looks he is fascinated with but it's also the slight little nuances, such as the way his hands are held loosely in his lap, the rising and falling of his chest with each deep breath. The thing which Jiyong is most concerned with (using as an excuse to himself to justify his staring and what comes next) is the fact that the man's head keeps on swaying and putting off his body's centre of gravity. Sitting sideways on a moving bus is a tricky journey, one which requires grace and poise and flexibility around those wide bends.

If the man doesn't wake up soon, he's going to end up swaying too far and smashing his head on the metal pole beside him... Unless of course there was something, or perhaps someone sitting in between the mans precious skull and the hazardous pole. Really, Jiyong would be placing the man out of danger should he decide to place himself beside him. There's no ring on his finger so there's presumably no woman waiting at home for her sweetheart, he's not promised to anyone, working full time in the city and living so far out of here city boundaries... Maybe it's possible this Choi S. is just as lonely and starved for human contact as Jiyong is.

All it takes is one approaching sharp corner which Jiyong knows is coming up soon to convince him to drag his tired feet across the short distance between them. Jiyong originally planned on just slipping quietly beside him and slowly shuffling across the seat closer to him but as soon as the man feels Jiyong's residual body heat against his arm, he slumps into his side and presses their bodies together, from hip to shoulder and knocking their knees together.

As if the warmth spreading through his chilled bones in the over air conditioned bus wasn't enough to make Jiyong melt, the most intoxicating aroma fills his nostrils and soon there are soft black hairs tickling his cheek. There's no way Jiyong can still feel guilty now about taking advantage of the mans vulnerable state, considering he feels so comfortable enough beside him to rest his head on his shoulder. Sure, he may be unconscious but on his subconscious level the man knows there's a kind person beside him and is drawn in closer to Jiyong's warmth.

The mans hair smells sweet and fruity but there's a very faint underlying spicey smell which almost makes Jiyong's mouth water. It draws him in so far that soon Jiyong finds himself resting his cheek atop the mans head. Is it weird or too far for Jiyong to close his eyes for just a moment and pretend the two of them are more than strangers? That this bus ride is one they share together each morning before S sneaks a goodbye kiss to his cheek, or perhaps one they find each other on every evening and snooze and cuddle the whole way home. That the soft snores are the same ones Jiyong listens to every night when they fall asleep, that he has the man's breathing pattern committed to memory.

It could very well be a little too far to indulge in such fantasies but there's no harm done when Jiyong allows the mans hand to stay on his thigh when a bump in the road jostles them together. With a shaking hand, Jiyong closes that last space and presses the back of their hands together. The mans hand is smooth and soft like nothing he's ever felt before and he has to wonder if the rest of his skin feels just as smooth. 

His daydreams are cut too short when he realises the next stop is his. The hollowing emptiness inside his chest is already too painful to ignore, knowing he's likely to never see Choi S. again or even learn what that S stands for. If Jiyong wasn't so selfish or perhaps a little more mature, he might feel guilty for not waking him and possibly allowing the man to miss his stop just to spend this time with him. But why should it be Jiyong's responsibility? The man should never have fallen asleep in the first place. He never would have played with Jiyong's heart then.

Before he needs to stand up and press the button for his stop which will surely wake the man,  Jiyong swallows the lump in his throat and presses his lips to the man's cheek. His cold lips meet warm, smooth skin and he can feel the sharp edge of his cheekbone between his lips.

With the quietest of whispers, Jiyong says one thing to him. "I hope I never see you again." Because he knows if their paths should ever cross again, Jiyong will leave the encounter with only half his heart belonging to him.

And without a glance back to see if the man stirred awake from the loud chime of the button or the harsh screeching of the breaks, Jiyong all but runs off the bus and towards his empty home.