In May, they visit a sleepy city.

  "Yah, little fool," Chanyeol says, and smooths bony fingers over flaking purple knuckles. "You've never been to Sokcho, right?"

  Jongin shakes his head.

  It's midnight. The telly blares in the background, neon pink shouting into dead civilisation, deaf to the aluminium bags crumpled on the floor. They're turned away from each other, a furious game of Mario Kart betraying the serenity pooled comfortably between their heads. "Then we'll go there tomorrow. Let's sleep early and get up early and take the train to Gangneun station."

  Jongin remembers the shapeless weight sitting in his stomach. He'd heard that the Sundae there is special.

  "Sure," he says, and hoots in triumph as Chanyeol cries yet again in defeat.

  The next day, they go to Sokcho. They wake at 4am to catch the train to Gangneun station and take an hour's bus ride to the city. There, they chase each other on empty beaches and eat Sundae until they're green. The Sundae is hot, and Jongin feels like he's living in a dream, but Chanyeol is beside him and holding his hand and tasting the Sundae with him- and for the first time, as his touch explodes in Chanyeol's head, flavour blossoms in Jongin's mouth.

  In Sokcho, Sundae is not made with pork intestines- they're made with squid instead. Noodles and blood sausage and vegetables and spices stuffed into a squid, sliced into rings, covered in egg yolk and fried with lots of love.

  It's delicious.