Wonshik stared aimlessly into space the entire bus-ride back from his warehouse stacking job. It was only a few suburbs away from the dreary, grey neighbourhood and apartment building he called home, but every single moment of that fifteen minute trip was filled with daydreams of a boy with dark eyes and ebony hair. That tall, gentle angel with a voice like a summer breeze. How could he be so lucky?

Taekwoon had looked so adorable that morning: all messy hair and sleepy eyes as he whined softly for Wonshik to stay. Wonshik recalled replying half-heartedly that he was going to be late, as he untangled himself from his boyfriend's slender arms, and he should probably head home, too. It's only across the hall, had come the drowsy mumble as the other boy retreated back under the covers, along with whispered promises to go in a few more minutes.

The blond did not have the heart to press him further, instead promising he would be back as soon as possible and heading out the door. Wonshik had not failed to notice, over their six weeks of dating, the perpetual shadows under the older boy's eyes. He had not missed how desperately Taekwoon clung to him and begged for more sleep on the mornings they awoke together, or the fitful, disturbed rest that sometimes stirred Wonshik during his own night's rest. Taekwoon was an insomniac, it was clear, and Wonshik was not about to deny him extra sleep, even if the only place he could get it was curled up against the younger boy's side.

He sighed as the bus creaked to a stop some three stops before his own. Soon; soon he would be home and back in Taekwoon's arms, kissing him, or listening to his sweet voice as they created divergent works of art in dissonant harmony. Already it seemed as though Wonshik had stumbled upon a wild, fictitous fantasy, or perhaps fallen down a rabbit hole, into a place both beautiful and imperfect. Nonetheless, this dream was wonderful, exciting; yet already familiar, like some exotic spice he had tasted once before, but lusted after now the elusive flavour had a name. Ah, how Wonshik could wish forever for just one more bite; if only for those precious extra minutes in the morning with sleep-muddled Taekwoon.

If this is just six weeks, imagine six years or decades, Wonshik thought absently, chuckling a little to himself. The older lady seated across from him to frowned a little, as though she doubted his mental stability, but the blond could not find it in himself to care. Instead, he stood and moved to step from the once more stationary bus, waving his thanks to the driver as he went.

Oh, how he hoped this delicious dream would never end.

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It was mid-afternoon when Taekwoon finally stirred. He stretched languidly, inhaling Wonshik’s scent deeply from the otherwise empty covers, as he blinked through the last foggy dregs of his mid-morning nap. He felt rough as hell, but a soft smile of satisfaction tugged at his lips all the same.

Oh, Wonshik. He felt like such a mess; falling so head-over-heels for the platinum-haired, gorgeous younger boy. 

At first, Wonshik had seemed so tactless and clumsy, but Taekwoon now saw he was the opposite. It all seemed so effortless for him: movement, emotions, art, telling stories, laughing with friends… Taekwoon was endlessly baffled by the ease and grace with which the blond conducted his every, beautiful move.

If Wonshik was a warm breeze on a crisp autumn day, Taekwoon was a frigid gust on a sunny afternoon. Anxiety embodied with a too-slim build; that was Taekwoon.

At first, he had felt just as awkward with Wonshik as with anyone else, but the younger boy quickly thawed the ice around his unloveable heart. No matter how much Taekwoon gave, Wonshik wanted more and more; only to give back twice as much. It was… amazing. Breathtaking.

And absolutely ing terrifying, thought Taekwoon. He huffed, burying in his head - in embarrassment or frustration, he wasn’t sure which - back into his pillow.

No. Wonshik’s pillow. He was still curled up in Wonshik’s bed, in Wonshik’s apartment. The next sigh was a happy one as Taekwoon remembered the night before, curled up by the other’s side. 

Oh, how stupidly in love I am.

Taekwoon sat bolt upright almost as soon as the thought had drifted across his still sleep-addled mind. What a stupid thought thought that was, and not one he would be sharing with Wonshik any time soon.

He enjoyed Wonshik’s company, and the time he spent with him was… different from time spent with anyone else, ever. But did he love him? 

Taekwoon wasn’t sure; he couldn’t be sure. Not yet. 

The third and final sigh to escape his lips for the afternoon was a confused one. He was exhausted, despite only just waking up.

Nonetheless, Wonshik was sure to be home soon, and Taekwoon would be undeniably happy for it.