They met at the beginning of January and were settled into an apartment together by the end of February. There was never a confession, they never shared kisses in the rain, and they definitely never argued over what piece of furnature went in which room. But they fit together like two pieces of completely different puzzles, like the extra piece was just what the picture of the yellow dog in front of the red barn needed. 

Seunghyun was never satisfied and Jiyong was lost in his own ed up ways of doing everything.

It was better that way, even after they stopped ing, just to see if they could live with each other without the constant bubbling between them. It would've been some kind of test, if either of them actually cared about the results. They busied themselves with board games and television, and their first argument was over which movie they were going to watch on a particularly boring Saturday night. (The Addams Family Reunion won over Norwegian Wood, Jiyong claiming the latter gave him bad memories of a girl he used to love.)

They lasted three days and two hours before they were back to ing on every flat surface they could find, and even some that weren't so flat.

Fingertips traced over soft skin as they lay next to each other in the warm afterglow of… what was it? ? love making? They've never called it either of those things, and they didn't seem right, anyway. And Jiyong always started complaining as soon as it'd worn off, either about how Seunghyun was crushing him with the weight of his apparently superhuman arm, or how his headaches were acting up again.

They didn't do it because they loved each other. There was no love between them as they breathed together, lived together. They did it because they needed to, wanted to. Because they could. There was no commitment, other than the monthly rent, and even that didn't always get done on time. Seunghyun had a bad memory and Jiyong had a selective one, especially when it came to paying bills he couldn't afford. 

And Jiyong didn't want commitment, of course. He wanted to -- recklessly, carelessly, without reason. He wanted someone that would whisper dirty things in his ear, make him sweat, make him bleed, then disappear during the day, because Jiyong didn't necessarily want to deal with the emotional baggage that came along with having a boyfriend, or whatever. But he didn't want to do it with a stranger, never with a stranger. There would be feelings attached to a stranger. He had no feelings for Seunghyun.

Not emotional ones, anyway.

The feelings he shared with Seunghyun were just feelings, like Seunghyun's gentle fingertips brushing over the metal ring hooked onto Jiyong's lower lip, pausing momentarily to feel -- whatever it was Seunghyun felt. Those moments left him breathless, but breathless in the way that was the opposite of breathless. The way that makes him puff warm air into Seunghyun's palm and kiss his pad of his pinky.

But then the headaches were back, and all of those little touches went away, because he couldn't concentrate on Seunghyun when his ears were ringing so loud that he wished he didn't have any. Those moments left him contemplating the pros and cons of throwing himself off the balcony and onto the street below. It also left him wondering if anyone would even care if he did. Would Seunghyun care? His parents wouldn't, he knew that much. Maybe his sister, maybe it'd make her finally let go of whatever anger she had towards him. 

"You should go see a doctor," Seunghyun's voice was like dark chocolate, smooth and rich against the sharp pain of whatever was shooting through his consciousness. It brought him out of his thoughs, and he laughed bitterly, which just made it worse, so he went silent again until the white noise in his mind quieted down enough for him to answer.

"Okay." 

A week later and Jiyong was in the hospital. 

Two days after that he was gone like he'd never existed in the first place.