It’s almost winter, but it looks like the weather had been paused at just a few weeks after autumn had started, save for the absence of brilliant leaves that fell from branches. Everything looks dead, no drop of life anywhere as people trudged along the sidewalks, heads down and shoulders hunched to brace against the wind. It’s like the world is stuck in monochrome and the brightest of colors were only the ugly brown of bare trees and the deepest blues of jackets.

 

    Jihoon digs his chin into his scarf and sighs, willing himself off of the bench as the bus approaches. If he could, he would have stayed for another few minutes. It was better than going back to the studio, where he’d have nothing but artificial light illuminate against his skin till night blended into day and continued on without a bother to wait for anyone who may have fallen behind.

 

    He was one of those few, often left in the dust as he desperately tries to balance work and health. Work always seems to win, even if he didn’t have an occupation yet. It was practice and self-discipline that would soon come to outweigh everything else in his life, more so than it already has.

 

    Jihoon settles into a seat in the back, fingers in his pockets picking at the loose ends of the inner stitching that become more frayed with each day he wore it. He rests his head against the window, ignoring the drumming that vibrated against his head as the bus began to move, creating a headache that would no doubt interfere with his concentration later on tonight.

 

The bus is quiet, but the white noise that makes his head feel incredibly full keeps him grounded. It’s a stark contrast to the constant music he’s surrounded by when he’s back at the company building, whether he’s in the studio or in the practice room with the boys. Even when there was no beat playing, Seungkwan and Seokmin would be singing till their throats were sore, pushing the limits and playing a dangerous game of chance just to simply improve, to rise above the others and gain recognition. Everyone did so. One second of rest meant one second lost to another, bumping one down in ranks till they were forgotten and terminated.

 

Jihoon supposes he was lucky with his talent for composing. It made him stand out, gave him more chances to get closer to company staff to appeal and show off his charms. He would no doubt land in the few selected to debut in the near future.

 

The city passes along in a blur, speed and unfocused eyes adding to the swirls of dull colors that currently painted Jihoon’s world. Not one thing seemed to shine before him, not even the street lamps that began to glow under the darkening sky. The big letters of corporate buildings fade into signs chained to posts announcing new dinner specials and grand openings of cafes down the street as they travel further out of the bustling city. Jihoon pays them no attention as he nears his stop, lithe fingers tugging the signal cord by his head before hauling himself up to jump off the bus.

 

It takes no more than five minutes for Jihoon to reach the familiar doors that were the gates to his future. Everyone behind them, everything he did behind them, would help him either make or break his dreams. Now that he was in too deep, there was no backing out because there was nothing else in the world that Jihoon was more passionate about than music. He didn’t even care if his works topped the charts, didn’t care if it wasn’t given as much praise as the hot shots of the industry. All he wanted was for his music to be shared, even within the smallest of communities. He wants it to be out there somewhere, anywhere, in the world, with his name attached to it to show his passion for music. It could be a speck of dust caught on a fiber of a shirt as one passes by and Jihoon would be content.

 

However, the moment he walks past the white walls of the basement hallway, he decides to take a detour on the way to his studio, and instead heads toward the booming bass from the practice room he’s spent more hours in than he has in school.

 

He wraps his fingers around the handle and pushes, immediately greeted with the mix of at least ten voices bumbling on about new lyrics and jokes, the squeaking of shoes against polished floors, and music blasting from speakers that shook the everything in the room with each beat. Jihoon lets his backpack slip from his shoulders to collide with the floor, depositing his scarf and jacket along with it. When he looks up, there’s suddenly color over in the far corner of the room, where a boy dripping with sweat watches himself in the mirror as he runs through choreography. There are yellow hues, red hues and blues, creating streaks of color that seem to be threatening to burst at the seams that come to create the outline of his body.

 

For a moment, the other stops and looks up, eyes meeting with Jihoon’s gaze through the mirror. Then it’s like everything stops, because to Jihoon, without him, time seems to pass without a thought. The colors that were pushing from inside out erupts and envelops the entire room with light, making the fluorescent bars that hung from the ceiling look like nothing but a weak candle whose flame flickered at the end of its wick. This boy was much brighter, warmer, and it draws Jihoon in, making him feel warmth in his chest that spread all the way down his spine to his toes.

 

It’s then he’s reminded that music was, in fact, his passion and his future, but his happiness?

 

Not quite.

 

With big steps, Jihoon makes his way over to his most favorite person in the world, paying no attention to how sticky the other was with sweat, and wraps his arms around him.

 

Soonyoung laughs, and Jihoon can feel its vibrations against his own chest as Soonyoung’s hand reach up to lightly scratch at Jihoon’s head.  “Hey, you.”

 

“Hey.” Jihoon mumbles into his shoulder, fingers curling to the back of Soonyoung’s shirt. He melts against Soonyoung’s hold, feeling the stress that was hanging off his shoulders lift as Soonyoung mouths a kiss behind his ear.

 

From somewhere within the room, Jihoon hears Seungkwan’s whistle as the music stops while Seungcheol is grumbling about PDA and Jeonghan shushing him to let them be, only to receive more protests in return till Jisoo drags them away to the other side of the practice room.

 

Soonyoung pulls away, fingers that were on Jihoon’s head slipping down to his shoulders and continue on till they fill the spaces between Jihoon’s own. “I thought you were heading straight to the studio when you came back.”

 

Jihoon shrugs, pressing forward again because he needs Soonyoung to hug him again. He wasn’t satisfied yet. “I missed you.”

 

Soonyoung grins, cheeks now red not just from dancing, but also from satisfaction. “Good, because I missed you too.”

 

This, Jihoon thinks as he smiles into Soonyoung’s shoulder, is what he’d be okay with even if he lost everything he’s ever owned. He could end up leaving this dream behind, lose his talents as he forgets how to lace layers of various instruments and beats together after years of abstinence, but as long as he had Soonyoung’s love, he’d be okay. It’s because of this love that he’s able to keep trucking along.

 

He admits that at the beginning of their relationship, he was sort of an . Jihoon wouldn’t open up. He kept to himself and would get annoyed with Soonyoung’s persistent questions, who used the excuse of cheesy ice breaker games for the whole group to play to get to know Jihoon more, and even at just the smallest of answers he’d smile like he’d been awarded a grand prize.

 

And as time passed, Soonyoung landed the last blow to Jihoon’s walls and knocked them down to rubble, stepping over them easily because this last line of defense was nothing in comparison to the love he had for him. Carefully, he tucked himself into a corner of Jihoon’s heart and placed claim to his spot where he continued to grow until Jihoon couldn’t help but press his own hand over Soonyoung’s chest where his heart beat underneath and imprinted his flourishing affections for the other there.

 

Soonyoung becomes the luminary to Jihoon’s world, replacing the somber shades in his eyes with vibrancy and vitality. He teaches Jihoon to smile more, reminds him to appreciate what he has now instead of what he could have, makes sure that he knows he’s loved, and presses sweet kisses to his lips every night before falling into a slumber beside him.

 

Later that night, as Jihoon crawls into bed beside his everything, he vows to never forget how Soonyoung had held him so warmly through their years together. He has so much to give back to Soonyoung in return, but he doesn’t know how. He can’t do in his own way because he’s never had before and he doesn’t want it to tumble to a fall with clumsy hands, so he does it exactly how Soonyoung had done and pulls him closer, whispering I love you to the sleeping boy who now holds the purpose to Jihoon’s entire existence in his own hands.

 

    

    In the morning, Jihoon wakes to Soonyoung’s fluttering lashes as he wakes and sleepily smiles. “Morning, Jihoon.” He moves closer, placing his lips to Jihoon’s forehead and sighs in content, tucking Jihoon to his side. “I had a great dream.”

 

    Jihoon takes Soonyoung’s fingers and traces along the tips. “Yeah?”

 

    “Yeah,” Soonyoung wiggles his fingers to mess with him, and laughs when Jihoon jabs his elbow at Soonyoung’s ribs. “It was me, all old and wrinkly and gross, white hair and everything. I thought I was alone but then I looked beside me,” He flips to his side, looking Jihoon in the eye, voice lowering to just barely above a whisper, morning voice low and throaty, “and there you were, still sleeping and still beautiful as ever. And I thought to myself, ‘I must be the luckiest guy in the world, waking up beside the love of my life everyday till death do us part’, but then I realized it didn’t sound right, because even after we’re both dead and rotten, we’ll still be together.” He pauses and nudges Jihoon’s knee with his own, tangled under the blankets. “Right?”

 

    A scoff escapes Jihoon’s mouth as he lightly flicks Soonyoung on the nose. “I thought we promised to be together forever.”

    

    Soonyoung’s eyes widen to stress the certainty in his reply. “Well, yeah.” He says, but he sounds skeptical.

 

    Jihoon frowns, “Then would it be reasonable to question if we don’t end up together forever?”

 

    A smile graces Soonyoung’s features, and Jihoon can’t help but pinch the cheeks he’s grown to adore to no end. “So shut up and let me get a few more minutes of sleep, okay?”

 

    Soonyoung rolls his eyes. “You’re acting as if I was the one that woke you up.”

 

    “Because you were making me restless by running around in my thoughts.” Jihoon cheekily answers, earning a pinch to his thigh under the comforter.

 

    “What have I done?” Soonyoung jokingly asks.

 

    Soonyoung has done a lot of things, and Jihoon knows that Soonyoung knows too. “Everything.” Jihoon murmurs, and tugs him down for a kiss, nose wrinkling when morning breaths mingle but when it’s someone like Soonyoung, Jihoon doesn’t mind one bit (as long as he gives another kiss after brushing his teeth).