Icarus, he's lucky.

He only loves the sun and dies at the sea
 

While I,

I am in love with both the sun

 

and the sea.

 

and the moon too, and the stars.

 

and the river, the rain, the tiny puddle in my garden.
Because everything is him, essentially. And he is everything.
 

The question is, do I mind? Strangely, no.

No I don’t.

 

 

When Jisung first saw him, it was in a crowded bar. Three rows of people standing in front of him, all drunk and dancing to a music that was far too loud for his likings.

 

But Chenle’s favourite bar was having a bottomless beer tab night and he got involuntarily dragged there just so that Chenle didn’t have to experience the true sadness that was drinking alone in a full bar.

 

When Jisung first saw him, he was probably the only person in the bar who went completely still. Just eyes wide, mouth open, arms slack at his sides and his breath taken away in one forceful push.

 

The strong base coming from a cheap stereo set acting like a balled fist punching him right on his guts.

 

‘How could I not notice him until now,’ he mused, while his feet carried him almost automatically to the makeshift stage at the corner of the bar, ignoring the callings of the bartender who was trying to give him his two glasses of beers. And indeed, how could he not? Only then did Jisung notice the singer’s voice, who’ve been accompanying his stay in the bar for almost two hours now. It sounded sharp, different, mesmerising.

 

Only then did Jisung notice the singer’s hair, almost an angry shade of red under the harsh glow of barebone stage lighting. Bouncing around like fire with every move he made.

 

And only then did he notice the smile the singer has on his lips. A smirk, really. Growing strong everytime he managed to hit a difficult adlib, or an impressive run, or when the audience gave them a thunderous applause everytime they finished a song.

 

“He’s beautiful,” he found himself rambling to Chenle when he found his way back to their table, “what should I do? He’s beautiful.”

 

“You’re exaggerating,” Chenle, who was already slightly annoyed because he has to wait for an extra 20 minutes for Jisung to finish his run of topping up their drinks, only gave him an answer with the least amount of interest possible.

 

But that doesn’t stop Jisung from dry sobbing throughout the night and glancing back to the band every five seconds or so. Even from afar, Jisung could still see him. The combination of his leather jacket and fiery hair under the spotlight made it look like he was an oil spill caught on fire. A peculiar observation that was made only with the best intention.

 

“If you’re so smitten, go approach him after they’re done performing.” Chenle breathed out through gritted teeth after he decided that he couldn’t take any other second of Jisung’s whining.

 

“That’s insane. I could never do that!”

 

“Then drink more.” He said, as he slid his half empty glass across the table. And in a coincidence that could only come by due to divine intervention, the moment the glass touched Jisung’s open palm, the band announced that the next song would be their last for the night.

 

There’s only one thing he could do after that. “Bottom’s up.”

 

_ _ _

 

Chenle told him that the bar will usually give free drinks to the night’s entertainer before patting him on the back, sending Jisung on his stumbling journey towards the front of the house.

 

And true enough, at the darkened corner of the bar’s long table, there he sat. The singer with fire as his hair. All alone as his band mates were still busy packing up their things from the stage. Although now, sitting underneath the shadows, Jisung could tell that there was a lot more purple in the strands than he’d thought before. More sunset than a forest fire.

 

Still beautiful.

 

Jisung knew he shouldn’t think if he wanted to do this, so he did just that. He shut off his brain and took the seat next to the stranger. “You were amazing.”

 

Jisung knew he was more than capable of stringing a praise much more eloquent than one consisting of just three uninspired words. He fully blamed the alcohol swimming around his brain for that blunder. But it was enough to bring a small smile to the edges of the singer’s lips (a smirk, really), and Jisung was more than satisfied with that outcome.

 

Jisung could hear the start of the word ‘thankyou’ coming out of those smirk, only for it to be cut short when the red haired stranger finally got a good look of his unwelcomed admirer.

 

He seemed surprised. Like seeing a ghost in the middle of daylight. His nose crinkled when he asked Jisung if, “your mother knew that you are here.”

 

It was all thanks to the more mellow atmosphere that the bar was being lulled into, now that the indie rock band has stepped down from the podium, that Jisung was able to even hear the words that were only barely whispered.

 

The fact that Jisung laughed at that jab, when usually he’ll answer any queries regarding his eerily youthful look by taking out his driver’s license and rubbing it on his conversational partner’s face, was a clear indication that whatever door it was that he has just opened will not lead to any familiar place.

 

“I’m eighteen.”

 

“Right. And I’m the pope.”

 

The next time Jisung laughed, his object of admiration laughed with him. And he just then noticed how different it sounded, his talking voice compared to his singing one.

 

He sounded bubbly. Approachable. Warm. A dying hearth in an early spring night.

 

Unlike the persona that Jisung witnessed come to life on the stage. Cold and unattainable. Just like winter fire.

 

He now was fully paying his attention to Jisung, body slightly turned to the side and he was almost leaning in as he gestured for Jisung to repeat what he said before the underage accusations came.

 

And he did just that, with his laughter frothing over it like the foam on his singer’s glass of beer, “you sounded amazing.” No need for any prompting too, because he would’ve gladly shower this stranger with praise no matter how much, “took my breath away.”

 

“Took your breath away?” Jisung saw the stranger’s fingers idly tracing the condensation on the surface of his drink, all the while his eyes turned into crescents as he gave Jisung one of the most blinding smile he’s ever witnessed in the little time he’s spent roaming the world, “that’s a really nice way to say it. Thankyou.”

 

“I’m Jisung! … by the way.”

 

He didn’t mind making a fool of himself, giving a stranger an offer for a handshake that hovered awkwardly in the empty air between them, if only it would somehow prolong the stay of that genuine smile on those flushed lips.

 

And it did work. The nameless singer, who won’t stay nameless for too long, wiped his open palm on the side of his tattered jeans and he reciprocated Jisung’s handshake with a smile that spelled out the word ‘endeared’.

 

“I’m Donghyuk. Nice to meet you.”

 

“Will you be performing here every week?” In the middle of that sentence, somehow the bar owner decided to once again kick up the music selection and Jisung’s words were drowned by the loud dance track. He then felt a soft pull, from their still linked hands, causing him to lean in on the stool he was sitting and ending up having to balance himself by holding the back of the tall chair that Donghyuk was sitting on.

 

Jisung repeated his words once again, but now louder, and with his mouth just inches away from those fiery red strands. It was so close, some even tickled his forehead when Donghyuk went on and nod his head.

 

“Yes. Every week for the next month.” He paused for a little while, only for the time it took for him to push Jisung slightly back so that their gazes could once again meet, “will I see you next week?”

 

It took every single fiber of his self restraint to stop Jisung from going completely berserk with his confirmation. In the end, he settled with a really calm nod. And a really sweet smile.

 

“You bet.”

 

_ _ _

 

Jisung was there on week two (this time he was the one dragging Chenle for a change) and once again took the seat beside Donghyuk’s when his band has finished their performance.

 

Sometimes, Jisung would think about what he’s gotten himself into and he’d find it bizarre. Truly unbelievable. Him, a person that just a week ago needed to down two glasses of liquid courage before feeling confident enough to approach a stranger, was now sitting with said stranger, laughing.

 

Jisung also found it bizarre how he could always be lucky enough to be the first person that approached the band members. He would’ve thought that such a talented lot would entice a bigger horde of overly enthusiastic fans. Definitely a bigger horde than one drunk kid with a grin that stretched way too wide across his face.

 

“You’re cute.” From the way Donghyuk struggled to connect the tip of his index finger to the tip of Jisung’s nose, it was apparent that he had downed something strong before he even got onto the stage to perform (or even during said performance). The fact that he was brave enough to do such intimate thing to what essentially was a stranger also played into that observation.

 

But then again, Jisung has always guessed for Donghyuk to be that kind of person. A person who played the game way differently from how he’d usually play it.

 

A person who wasn’t afraid to play with Jisung’s fingers in public, wasn’t afraid to lean in to whisper things that didn’t need to be whispered, wasn’t afraid to play with the strands of Jisung’s hair with so many eyes that could’ve witnessed them together.

 

Maybe it was because of his honesty that Jisung was enticed to do the same. Maybe it was because of this aura of ‘I don’t care what people say’ that seemed to envelop him like a thick fog. Jisung breathed it in once and now he was a convert.

 

“And you’re beautiful,” he said while a jolt of impulse ran through his arm and before long, he finally fulfilled the wish that’d haunted him for nights on end. And that was to run his fingers through those fiery red hair.

 

He expected his fingers to be burned. Because how could something be so red and not be scalding?

 

But when Donghyuk smiled, turns out his fire seeked for a different victim. “Thankyou,” he mouthed.

 

And it was Jisung’s heart that burned.

 

_ _ _

 

“People are talking.”

 

It was the third week of their quaint meetings and it was the first time Jisung was at the bar without Chenle’s supervision. Chenle said the reasons behind him not coming that night was one: Jisung is an adult who can take care of himself (but if Jisung didn’t check in with him by 12 AM then he’ll call the police) and two: he doesn’t want to be a witness of such disgusting dance of flirtation.

 

Weirdly, Jisung didn’t mind. He’d became a bit more familiar with the situation, and he decided he was brave enough to sit beside Donghyuk with the help of only one glass of cold beer. Just enough to make him feel like he was floating half a centimeter above the plush seat of his chair.

 

“About what?”

 

Donghyuk even was kind enough to introduce Jisung to his band members, a group of four who all went to the same university across town. The smile they produced when they heard his name being said by Donghyuk carried a clear enough message. So this is the boy you’ve been talking about.

 

“They think I like little kids,” Donghyuk nudged his head towards the direction of the stage, where his band members were busy finishing up their packing.

 

(Jisung asked him last week, “why aren’t you helping them?” For which Donghyuk answered, “they said I will just make everything ten times messier.”)

 

“Hah. You don’t look all that mature anyway.”

 

“But at least I don’t look like a .”

 

Jisung rolled his eyes to that, “you’ll get along reeeally well with Chenle.”

 

It’s only been three weeks. But when they laugh, they laughed like they’ve known each other for a lifetime.

 

“You’ve talked about this Chenle so many times,” Donghyuk said after he took a sip from his glass of something, all the while his eyes never breaking their gaze against Jisung’s, “when will you introduce me to him?”

 

Jisung, on the other hand, is someone who not only hates, but is physically incapable of keeping an eye contact for too long with another human being. Not only did he find it weird and uncomfortable, but isn’t it rude too? It felt like you’re peeking into the most private parts of a human. Their thoughts.

 

“I don’t have any obligation to introduce you to him,” the coyness in his voice was so palatable that it managed to bring up that smirk to the corners of Donghyuk’s lips, “I don’t even know you.”

 

But of course, it was different with Donghyuk. Because no matter how hard he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn’t. It was just a matter damage control. Of surfing through the waves of discomfort and that nagging itch at the back of your head that always appear when you’re trapped in a compromising situation.

 

“Do you want to?”

 

“Do I want to what?”

 

In what could be said as a signature move of his, now that he’s done it two weeks in a row, Donghyuk tooted the flushed tip of Jisung’s nose with his index finger. It felt cold and slightly damp from when he spent his time cupping his glass, and his fingernails scratched the skin oh so delicately when he flicked his fingers away, leaving Jisung petrified in his awe, “do you want to know me better?”

 

The answer to that question is clear (and that’s yes, for those of you who are wondering), but the little, tiny, haughty part of him suddenly found in his brain a firm footing and Jisung blurted out, “isn’t this going too quickly? I have to remind you it’s only been three nights.”

 

“You’re thinking way too far into the future,” hearing the slight slant of sarcasm seeping into Donghyuk’s laughter, Jisung knew he knew the game they were playing. And dear lord did he knew who was going to win. “Besides, us only ever meeting three times should make you want to know me better, no?”

 

Checkmate.

 

Seeing that the game has wrapped and a clear winner was chosen, Donghyuk stood up from his tall chair, hooked his hand around Jisung’s arm, and practically dragged him along to the bar’s entrance.

 

Jisung’s protests about how he couldn’t possible leave his band mates behind (to which Donghyuk answered with a disinterested shrug), and how it was getting far too late for his likings (to which Donghyuk answered with a snicker, “why? Does little dove need to go back to his mama before midnight?”) fell to deaf ears.

 

Once they were out of the bar’s stuffy atmosphere and into the cooler air of a nice night in the middle of spring, Donghyuk looked at him with that peculiar, still unidentified spark on his eyes and told Jisung something so unbelievably mischievous, it left Jisung with no other option than to chase after him into the night. Just for the chance of getting to deliver a punch to Donghyuk’s arm. Probably accompanied with a loud yell of, “that was disgusting!”

 

After someone said to you, “I bet you spent more than just three nights thinking about me.”

 

How could you not?

 

_ _ _

 

Donghyuk was the one who told Jisung not to think too far into the future.

 

But he was also the one who dragged Jisung into the future.

 

In the span of one night they’ve done so much more than what Jisung has ever done before. Donghyuk must’ve heard that phrase being muttered by Jisung once at the start of their impromptu ‘get-to-know-me-more’ date and seemingly put it as a personal goal for him to make Jisung experience as much crazy as they could cram in a three hour period.

 

Because yes, however loud Donghyuk would laugh at him for this, but Jisung does have a night curfew and his mother (and Chenle too, as he’s essentially a non-blood related brother at that point in their life) would be deadly worried if he’s not home by twelve.

 

Little dove, he called Jisung. Didn’t know where he got it. Didn’t know what inspired it. But he would say it, constantly. When they ran through the length of the train station after they jumped the gate to catch the last train going to the harbour (because Jisung has never been to the harbour during nighttime), Donghyuk shouted, “keep up, little dove!” Then, it sounded heavy, commanding, not unlike the persona he’ll use while he was on stage. The laughter that trailed at the end of it was loud and free, piercing the night without any ounce of care. He might not even care if they were stopped by the train station’s securities. Donghyuk will probably be able to charm his way out of that place like it’s not a big problem.

 

The next came after Donghyuk literally snatched a man’s cigarette from between his fingers as the poor guy was trying to light it on. They’ve just set their foot off the train and now they have to run once more. Giggling, laughing, and panting when they’ve finally ended up in a quiet nook near the harbour. Donghyuk rested his back against the brick wall of an unnamed alley and flicked the miraculously still lit cigarette to Jisung, “try it.”

 

“I’ve never done it before,” Jisung looked at the thin lines of red ember that would come to life with each blow of the sea wind and he would lie if he said it didn’t remind him of Donghyuk’s hair.

 

“That’s why. Try it. At least then you can say you’ve tried it.”

 

“Why don’t you try it,” he said while trying to pass the foreign item back to Donghyuk, and he only went on to bend Jisung’s arm so that the cigarette was lining perfectly with his face.

 

“I have and it was awful. Never again.”

 

Jisung then thought, ‘you know what, I’m eighteen, I’m with an impulsive wreck of a person, and this will be an experience that I can scratch out from my imaginary bucket list. Why not.’

 

He put his lips around the cigarette, then bravely (and stupidly) took a deep inhale, and instantly regretted all the life choices he’s made that had led to that exact moment.

 

“Are you okay little dove?” Then, it sounded childish, shrill, like a nail running across the chalkboard. His laughter that came in conjunction with the sound of Jisung coughing his lungs out and the padded pats of his palm hitting against Jisung’s back was a borderline hysterics.

 

“That was stupid… never again indeed.”

 

The next one came when they walked through the length of an almost empty pier, which they decided was to be their next destination after tossing the cigarette to a puddle of sewage water and making a short stop into a nearby mini market to get themselves some snacks to accompany the long night ahead.

 

“Little dove, aren’t you cold?” They sat down at the end of the pier, feet dangling over the wood panels and above the calm sea.

 

Jisung, the one who was appointed ‘master of snacks’, opened up the bag of chips, the one they chose after five minutes of long deliberation of what could be a middle-ground flavour that they both liked (it was sour cream and onion), and roughly tossed it to Donghyuk after grabbing a handful for himself, “stop calling me that.”

 

“Why? It’s cute.” Without waiting for his confirmation, Donghyuk took off his leather jacket, and draped it around Jisung’s shoulder. Yes, the same leather jacket that he’s worn on stage for three weeks in a row and no, it didn’t smell horrendous. Magically, it even smelled nice. Donghyuk seemed to be able to read Jisung’s thoughts (or maybe he was too obvious in his act of smelling the lapels of the jacket) because the next thing he say was, “I send it to the laundry every two weeks.”

 

That right there, was another first for Jisung. Someone putting their leather jacket to a laundry every two weeks, “how rich are you?”

 

Donghyuk slightly choked on his potato chips after hearing that question, but gathered enough composure to answer back, “rich enough to afford a one item laundry every two weeks, if that’s what you mean.”

 

It didn’t take long before he told Jisung more about himself. It didn’t take much coaxing either, as the guy is a natural talker. He has a sister, a boring dad who works at a small accounting firm and a doting mom who still gave him weekly allowance money even though he’s worked a part time job at the local daycare for almost a year (“Local daycare? You? I can’t believe they were willing to hire you with your hair looking like that.” “That’s where you’re mistaken. The kids love me because of my hair.”).

 

He went to a normal highschool and graduated with normal grades. Did normal hobbies and watched normal movies. He has a normal level of loving to sing and a not too ambitious dream of producing a self written album at one point in his life.

 

The more he chirped, the more obvious it was to Jisung how normal Donghyuk is. And thus how. How could such a normal person like him looked so strange as they sat on this empty pier. The moon hung low just to the left of Donghyuk’s head and its silver glow casted an eerie sheen on his hair. It took an almost copper glare under this cold light. Copper hair that matched his copper skin, which Jisung couldn’t help but oggle on everytime his loose t-shirt slid along his shoulder when Donghyuk threw his head back to let a hearty laugh. Such warm tones shouldn’t have meld all that well with the silver rays of the moon but he somehow made it work.

 

But that was probably because moonlight is just a projection of the sun anyway. And as in Jisung’s eyes Donghyuk was the sun, moonlight is, essentially just an extension of his shine.

 

“I’m not the bird between the two of us. You are,” Jisung said after one particularly long stretch of laughter after Donghyuk told him about an accident he had once in his eleventh grade home economics class, which involves a grease fire, a frozen french fries, and poor first aid training.

 

“No I’m not. I’m so not a bird.” He then pointed at the second brightest dot of light that could be seen in the desolate night sky completely washed out by the city lights and gave Jisung a smile so bright it put the Evening Star to shame, “I’m a star.”

 

‘No you’re not,’ Jisung wanted to say, ‘you’re not a star because you’re not far. Nor are you small, or cold. You’re close and scorching, and painfully beautiful to look at. You’re the sun, silly.’

 

But his mouth was not trained to spout such senseless poetry and he ended up just grunting out in disgust, “stop it. You make me want to puke.”

 

“If I remember it correctly, you were the one who approached me first,” Donghyuk snickered as he gave Jisung a push. Strong enough to show that he was being serious, but soft enough that it didn’t come off as a physical threat of ‘I’m going to push you off the pier.’ He didn’t bother to his fingers and thus left a long trail of onion smelling dust on the black leather jacket. Maybe because it was done by him to his own jacket, but Donghyuk didn’t seem to care all that much about it. “Tell me then, what should I do to bring you back to that first night that we met? When one hand wave was all it took to make you… how should I word it to not make me sound so vain,-”

 

“Worship you?”

 

“Ah, it’s your words. Not mine.” He said while tutting his still un- fingers in the air.

 

“I was drunk,” Jisung threw both of his arms to the air in exasperation, probably also in regret, because yes he did make a fool out of himself that first night they met. A starstruck kid who stuttered and blushed the entire time they had their conversation, “when I’m drunk I turn soft.”

 

Jisung then tried to reach for the bag of chips on Donghyuk’s lap but all he got was a sharp slap on his wrist accompanied by a quick gesture that commanded Jisung to focus all of his attention on Donghyuk.

 

His fingers circled around Jisung’s wrist, and just from that simple gesture, everything seemed to shift. The air grew heavier, the scent of the sea grew more pungent, and the sound of waves crashing to the pier seemed to be muted. All exchanged to the deafening drumming of his heart and the loud ringing in his ears.

 

“Well, I can’t always keep you drunk by my side, can’t I?”

 

Darting his gaze from Donghyuk’s grip on his wrist and into his eyes, Jisung instantly felt two strong emotions. The first one was fear, as he was afraid Donghyuk would somehow be crazy enough and push him to the inky water for no other reason than ‘my brain told me to’, and second was excitement. Because Donghyuk might just be crazy enough to push him down into the inky water and the unhinged part of him hidden at the back of his mind was thrilled with that possibility.

 

“What are you thinking?” The smile on his lips as he said those words was one Jisung has never seen before. Something far too quaint and warm that people who’ve only seen him smirk before would’ve think it to be an almost impossible feat to be executed by his lips.

 

“I think I know one thing you can do,” he found it amusing that his face must’ve taken the same colour as Donghyuk’s hair. Red as a sunburn in the middle of a summer beach holiday.

 

“And what is that?”

 

It was a question that didn’t need to be answered, as both of them knew what the answer was without having to say a single word. All it needed was for Donghyuk to do a soft inward pull and Jisung practically collapsed forward. Both palms now firmly planted on the wooden pier and one long exhale being the only thing separating the two of them.

 

“You said… not to think too far into the future.” Being this close, it was amazing the amount of detail he’d been missing all this time. Never before seen. Donghyuk’s eyelashes were droopy, Jisung realised, and his lower ones were impressively dense. And the brown in his eyes were almost maroon in this light, reflecting all the colour of his hair who’d by now tumbled down and sparsely covering his forehead in a beautifully planned mess.

 

“It’s not the future if we’re doing it now.”

 

Their whispers sounded louder than the growl of the sea. And the bursts of air caused by Donghyuk’s giggle tickled his lips.

 

And maybe the quick swipe of a tongue over dry lips was all it took for them to kiss.

 

Jisung always imagined a kiss with Donghyuk would be messy, and rough, and quick with teeth lashing and tongue just lolling around like madmen.

 

But the reality was anything but. He was so soft, and almost scarily so. Everything about him was so gentle and light. One finger placed under Jisung’s chin so his head would be perfectly tilted, the faint taste of alcohol coming from the back of their throats mingling with the more recent bite of cigarette smoke and hint of salt coming from their shared bag of chips, everything. As if one strong gust of wind would disintegrate it all and left Jisung alone and wondering if everything was just a dream

 

“Was that your first, little dove?” Then, it sounded soft, almost a whisper but not quite. His hair tickled Jisung’s burning forehead and it caused him to let out a bubbly giggle.

 

A bubbly giggle that wouldn’t let him lie to Donghyuk. No matter how much he wanted to sound edgy, and mature, and tough, Jisung still ended up with a shy smile, breathing out a really shy, “yes.”

 

Donghyuk kissed him again then, at the corner of his smile, and only picked up enough distance so that his lips would still rub against Jisung’s skin as he said, “you sure do act like you know everything.”

 

The shiver that ran along the length of his spine burns.

_

A N // omg this is the cheesiest thing i've ever written what even happened??????????