He is the sun that melts my wings.

But he is also the sea that catches me when I fall.
 

Can’t you see how this set up might make me feel a little bit confused?
 

All that’s left of me in the end will just be a deformed puddle of wax

Formerly a human, but no longer so.
 

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

No I don’t.

 

Donghyuk told him something about himself at the start of their relationship, at the very start. We’re talking the very night when they decided to become something more than just a conversation at a darkened corner of a bar.

 

Donghyuk told Jisung that, “I like wild dates.”

 

To which Jisung didn’t show any qualms whatsoever. Lucky for Donghyuk, Jisung is a sort of adrenaline junkie too.

 

But he was quick to learn that Donghyuk’s definition for wild is a bit… skewed.

 

“What am I doing here?” He found himself muttering under his breath. It was seven AM on their first Monday together and Jisung found himself sitting on a foam mattress, a tiny three years old kid sitting on his lap.

 

Donghyuk called him at the brink of dawn earlier and asked him if he wanted to try his hands at being a helper at the daycare where Donghyuk’s working.

 

“My coworker just called in sick and I need a quick replacement. Are you up for that?”

 

Jisung understood that Donghyuk is the human personification of the sun, but he couldn’t understand how someone is able to sound so bright and chipper this early in the morning. In contrast to him, Jisung sounded like a grumpy grandpa who got woken up by one of his annoying toddler-aged grandchild.

 

“What?” he groaned as he tried to rub away the sleep off his heavy eyelids, “are you even allowed to bring in a stranger?”

 

“My boss is desperate. And she trust my good words.” From their call he could faintly hear the sound of water bubbling in an electric kettle and the ding of a microwave going off. ‘It’s five, right?’ Jisung pulled his phone away from his ears to check the time. And yes indeed, it was five in the morning. Night bat Jisung couldn’t believe he found a disparaging aspect of their personalities so early in their relationship.

 

‘I’ll be damned.’ Jisung let out one long whine of unwillingness as he forced himself up into a sitting position. He wished he has classes on Monday but as luck has seemingly turned a blind eye on him, of course Monday was his only free day from university. “But I have no qualification whatsoever for working with children.”

 

“Oh come on. They’re just little kids. What could possibly go wrong?”

 

‘Everything, silly, everything.’

 

And so there he was, in a class filled with tiny and alarmingly fragile three year olds, all obediently sitting on the floor as they were in the middle of the ‘book reading’ section of their day. And to say they were captivated was an understatement. Every little ticks and exaggerations. Every little dips and howls and grandiose hand movements. Every little laughter and scream of fear and anticipating silence. All were possible because everyone, every single little ones in that classroom was utterly captivated by Donghyuk’s superb storytelling abilities.

 

And to say that he himself was not mesmerised would be a lie. Jisung even found himself flinching in shock when Donghyuk’s lion roared in anger. He also found himself laughing his heart out when Donghyuk tells really corny jokes that are supposed to be totally unfunny.

 

The little kid sitting on his lap looked up to him when Donghyuk finished his tale and asked, “mister, are you Donghyuk hyung’s husband?”

 

‘Well, that was wild,’ Jisung found himself having to spend a full 10 seconds to gather back his bearings, and even then he could only answer the little boy with a shocked, raspy whisper, “what makes you say that?”

 

“He winked at you,” the kid pointed at Donghyuk with his little index finger and as if fate and the world were working in tandem to make everything fall in their right places, Donghyuk just so happened to be looking at Jisung’s direction, and winked. The fifth time he did that in the span of five minutes.

 

Jisung looked down at the kid once more and as if the little one understood that Jisung was waiting for some sort of further elaboration, he grinned oh so brightly and explained in a tone that was very giddy and innocent, it was hard for Jisung to not smile back in return, “my mom always wink to my dad and my dad to my mom too, and they say only married people do that so I think that mister is Donghyuk hyung’s husband.”

 

“Well, if only it’s that easy kid,” Jisung said after he ruffled the hair of his pure kid and send him off to play with his fellow overgrown babies. Donghyuk approached him after he’d finished tidying up the small library at the corner of the room, an arm easily slung over his shoulders as he asked what were the two of them was discussing about, “you two looked so serious.”

 

Jisung looked at his red haired boyfriend and wondered. Even the word boyfriend was bizarre when it was associated with Donghyuk. Husband? That’s like a talk reserved for ten years in the future. And in the words of Donghyuk himself, they should not think way too far into the future. So Jisung only gave him a smile, one that was stuck in the middle of annoyance and acceptance, before he shrugged Donghyuk’s arm off and joined along with a game of make believe that a group of kids were playing.

 

It took him the whole morning to admit it, but if this was Donghyuk’s idea of a wild date, Jisung wouldn’t actually mind at all.

 

If his idea of wild was holding hands while they were supervising the group of kids as they played on the outdoor playground, Jisung wouldn’t mind. Because then Donghyuk could bring their arms up together, pointing it at a certain kid and smile at whatever antics they’re pulling. And sometimes, he would bring them up even further and leave fleeting kisses on the back of Jisung’s hand.

 

If his idea of wild was being leaders in opposing groups for a round of hide and seek, Jisung wouldn’t mind. Because then Jisung could have his arms purposely thrown around Donghyuk’s waist, where he then could pull him close, whisper silly things like “gotcha” or “don’t move if you wanna live” to his ears, and heard his sweet laughter fill his ears soon after.

 

“You caught me,” Donghyuk would whisper back with a smirk on his lips, and Jisung had to try his best to not give in to the temptation of kissing said smirk away because of the ten or so sets of eyeballs that were looking at them intently.

 

But once they were alone, it was a different story.

 

If his idea of wild was making out in the bathroom when the kids were having their nap time, Jisung wouldn’t mind. Because then he could once again feel Donghyuk’s soft kisses on his lips with his back leaning against the flimsy, plastic bathroom door. He would say, “are you having fun, little dove?” And Jisung would answer with a defeated laughter. Quiet, because they didn’t want to wake anybody up.

 

“Yes, yes I am.”

 

_ _ _

 

The next time they were out for something more serious than just coffee hangouts or lunch catch-ups, they went for something that fit closer to what Jisung would consider as a ‘wild date’.

 

Donghyuk invited him to attend a pre-performance practice for his band. But what Jisung initially thought would be a simple and quick, three hours tops outing ended up taking the entirety of his morning, afternoon, evening, and night. Basically he had to spend the whole day in a strange place, surrounded by strange equipments and strange people.

 

People who albeit were nice, were still stranger nevertheless.

 

“JISUUUUUUNG,” the drummer of the band, a lanky kid around the age of Donghyuk named Jaemin rushed towards him the moment he stepped into the rented studio and literally glomped the life out of his surprised self.

 

What made it funny was that they’ve only ever met twice and spoke once. But seeing this radical reaction coming from his band mate, Jisung was suspicious of ‘what did Donghyuk say about me to all these people.’

 

To Chenle, Jisung described Donghyuk as the best thing ever. The most beautiful ray of sunshine. His smile can solve any world problems, his laughter can cure deafness. The son of Apollo himself. Perfect, without any flaws. (Then Chenle would sarcastically say, ‘does his fart smells like flowers? Does his boogers taste like cornflakes?’ And to Jisung’s unappreciative squint, he’d shrug and reasoned that because Jisung is so disgustingly in love, some harmless jabs done towards his romantic partner is fair game.)

 

He’s curious now. How does Donghyuk describe him? This run of the mill, barely adult self who has nothing much going on in his life?

 

“It’s been awhile! How are you man?” Jaemin excitedly said with both his hand cupping the sides of Jisung’s face, turning it right and left as if he was checking for any damage on a ceramic vase.

 

“I’m great man, thanks,” he said with a little bit of a flinch on his smile. It wasn’t that he hates close contact with other people, it was just he doesn’t like others to come so close so suddenly AND touch his face with their grubby hands. Not that Jaemin’s hands are grubby. In the contrary, his hands are unusually smooth for drummers.

 

“Get away from him you creep,” apparently seeing the hints of distress in Jisung’s body language, Donghyuk immediately came to the rescue with just one swipe of a ring-bound binder over Jaemin’s head.

 

The boy went on to rub his head, more based on the need to fix his hair that was dyed into a shade of dusty purple than out of pain, “aww, it’s not like I did anything to your precious doll.” The mischievous wink that topped his sentence totally didn’t help in stopping his skin from blooming out in blushes.

 

Jisung hasn’t even taken five more steps into the room before another strange voice called out in reference to himself, “oh is that him?” The voice came from the keyboardist, the new one, Donghyuk told him. A friend who stepped into the empty spot when their last keyboardist went away for a semester-abroad program in the Maldives (he’s studying oceanography). This one is a Japanese international student called Yuri? Yuuko? Yu,- “I’m Yuta. Nice to meet you.”

 

The invitation for a handshake was taken in quickly (and amicably) by Jisung, but he immediately let out a long internal groan when Yuta quickly shook his hand off and went on to give his cheeks a potent pinch, “why are you so a-do-ra-ble??”

 

“I’m eighteen, not eight, thankyou very much,” Jisung let out an awkward chuckle and swished both of Yuta’s hand away from his face. Goodness, maybe he should consider wearing a surgical mask the next time Donghyuk takes him to one of his band practices. All this face touching is only going to break him out.

 

“Donghyuk-ie you got a feisty one,” Yuta said in a cloying voice coming out from his half-pouting, half-grinning lips as he scurried his way back to his keyboard to resume setting the instrument up. To that, Donghyuk could only spare an apologetic glance at Jisung. One that said ‘I’m sorry in behalf of them.’

 

And ‘I told you they will be a hard bunch to navigate through.’

 

Hey, at least Donghyuk didn’t lie to him with empty promises saying that everyone will not be annoying. He did explicitly told Jisung that his friends, especially Yuta and Jaemin, will probably circle around him like vultures would do to carrions. “They love anything sweet, and adorable,” Donghyuk said, sitting on Jisung’s bed while he was trying his best, rummaging through his closet in the effort to find a piece of clothing that would make him look a bit more tough. Donghyuk offered to loan him his leather jacket, but Jisung knew if he did that, it’ll only lead to even more heckling to come from his bandmates. “And love, unfortunately you’re really sweet and adorable.”

 

Jisung had his eyes on the low sofa put haphazardly on the corner of the room, but nothing seemed to want to run well for him at that particular day, because someone swooped past him and used the sofa as a stand to hold their electric guitar case when he was just an arm’s length away from it.

 

He was feeling kind of annoyed from the two earlier unusual encounters that he was not afraid to stare down the guy with unruly light brown hair in need of some urgent root touchups. ‘Must be the guitarist,’ Jisung thought to himself, as he let out a soft cough to indicate that hello, hey, someone wants to use the seat, please take your guitar case somewhere else.

 

Didn’t take long for the man to notice, and it surprised Jisung so very much when he saw the previously cold and stony faced man let out a bloomy smile that should’ve only be reserved for people that are dearly close to him, “Jisung, right?”

 

Because it successfully made Jisung felt so bad that he’d harbored any negative feeling to the man, as they went through a silent courteous dance in which the man tried to let him have the sofa but Jisung proceeded to shake his head and indicated that he could just sit at the metal folding chair at back of the room.

 

“Man, how many times have I told you not to put your guitar case on the sofa?” Yuta yelled at him from his current position and immediately the guy, the guitarist, Yoonoh, slung his guitar case over his shoulder and practically shoved Jisung down to the sofa.

 

‘What a peculiar bunch,’ Jisung found himself thinking as he watched over the proceedings of the preparation for their practice.‘So chaotic.’ And he wasn’t wrong. Because Jaemin was banging some random beat on the drum set, in no particular style, just doing something for the sake of creating some noise. Then Yuta was yelling at him to keep it down while he’s trying to find the perfect setting on his keyboard that he somehow forgot, and Yoonoh was doing vocal warmups while tuning his guitar. What about Donghyuk?

 

He was walking in circles at the other corner of the room, head stuck in his ring binder and mouth yapping silently to the words of some new songs he needed to memorise.

 

“Yo Jisung!” In the middle of his idle observation, Jaemin’s voice suddenly pierced through all the cacophony of noises like a spearhead flying through the air, “can you play any musical instrument?”

 

Jisung had to pause for a little while as he tried to decide whether he wanted to be truthful and risk the possibility of humiliation (of being asked to play something on whatever musical instrument he admitted to being able to play), or lie and also be humiliated because ‘how uncool are you to be the boyfriend of a band member and not be able to play any instruments?’

 

The second option might not be as overt or severe as the first, but as a person who held his ego in a sort of slightly raised pedestal, Jisung decided to brave whatever chaotic possibility that his first decision might bring, “I learned how to play the bass when I was fifteen.”

 

Seeing the way that Jaemin’s, and Yuta’s too, to an extent, mouth opened up in shock and glee, Jisung quickly regretted his decision. And before he could retaliate or nervously laugh his words off with a ‘guys I’m just joking,’ Jaemin had patted Yoonoh’s shoulders and asked him to bring in his spare bass from the car.

 

“Play with us! Come ooooon just one song! Just one song,- please? Pleasee?” With how Jaemin was practically hanging onto his arms like a baby koala would do to its mother, now Jisung finally understood Donghyuk’s earlier vulture comparison. Actually, Jisung would’ve went and corrected him, seeing that maybe a fly and venus fly trap would’ve been a better metaphor (just because Jaemin is an especially loud lad), but that would mean that he’d have to live knowing his plant-equivalent is one that attracts annoying carriers of diseases, so he scrapped that idea as quickly as it popped.

 

(It took him a while to notice that being compared to a dead carcass in Donghyuk’s original metaphor means that he will have to live knowing people around him see him as a thing that emits offensive odour.)

 

“Just one song?” He asked, the voice coming out of him nothing more but a soft chirp like those of birds in the morning.

 

“One song for Jaemin is never one song,” for the second time in a span of less than thirty minutes, Donghyuk came to his rescue. Again, he used his ring binder to instil some order back to the jumpy drummer, just like swatting a fly. And seeing that made Jisung think that the fly-venus fly trap comparison might not be that far of a stretch. “You know you can always say no, right?” Donghyuk sighed and kneeled down beside the sofa when Jaemin had sulked his way back to the drum set, mumbling something in the line of ‘I didn’t even do anything wrong’, “are you sure you’re okay with it? I’m serious, you can say no.”

 

The answer to that question came when he saw Yoonoh walking through the heavy door with the beaten and battered bass case. Something within him seemed to reach a boiling point and he suddenly was overtaken with the need to show off.

 

“What makes you think I want to say no?” With one push, Jisung was back on his feet. With one push, he reached out and accepted the borrowed bass guitar, nodding and trying his best to keep up with whatever tips and tricks that were thrown to him by Yoonoh to help him catch up with the rest of the band.

 

How quickly Jisung got engrossed into this new and unforeseen time waster made him miss the proud smile slowly forming on Donghyuk’s face. Just as soft as the rays of sun painting the morning sky a dusty shade of pink.

 

_ _ _

 

In the night of the band’s first performance at a new bar, Donghyuk didn’t stop performing with the last song written in their set list. He grabbed onto the mic stand with both his hand, as if afraid that the owner of the bar would say ‘no’ to his sudden change of plan and turn off the amplifier (not that it would stop him in any way shape or form), and asked,

 

“What do you say? One last song to end the night?” He threw that question out to the audience, to nobody in particular. Or maybe it was thrown to Jisung, as Donghyuk did look straight at him while he said it, his voice slightly hitching inside his throat as he was still trying to catch his breath from all the high-octane singing he just executed.

 

Donghyuk’s fingers raked across his slightly damp hair and its tips caught the yellowish shine of the stage lights. He was blazing on that stage. A fire burning high, pulsing with each drum beats, with each flourish of the keyboard. And even then, when the only thing playing with him was the soft, simple picking of a chord on Yoonoh’s guitar, he still burned. It was weak, like a tiny light on a dying tea candle, but still he burned.

 

Jisung was so transfixed with the sight upon him that he didn’t realise someone else had joined him as an audience until Jaemin leaned in and whispered,

 

“You’re really lucky, he never did this to anyone else.”

 

‘Anyone else?’ A tiny voice seeped into his mind right at the same time as when Donghyuk began his song. A new song. A new new song.

 

“He wrote this himself?” Jisung asked while not bothering to avert his gaze from the soft glow of the stage. Did someone adjust the lighting to fit the mood? Jisung noticed that it felt different. Calmer. Softer. Warmer.

 

Jisung could see his informant, his insider, his friend nod his head from the periphery of his vision, “all his.”

 

‘How many anyone else was there?’ The question was repeated once again, louder now as the song has entered the chorus. The words lilting out of his mouth telling a story only they both knew. The pier, the cafes they went in for lunch, the kisses, the sun, the sea at night with the moon reflected on her surface. And suddenly, Jisung noticed that it didn’t matter all that much anymore. However many elses Donghyuk had in the past, because the song was, essentially, ‘all his. All mine. This is all mine. He is all mine.’

 

It was a revelation so strong it brought fear with its arrival. It was going too fast, he thought. It was going too fast and too intense, the feeling within him, it was too bright. Burning through the atmosphere like a shooting star that wouldn’t last more than a second. And he didn’t want them to only last for a second, not by a long stretch.

 

But then, just like how he’d done it at the daycare, Donghyuk looked at Jisung right in the eye and winked at him, right at the end of the bridge portion the song. Right when the tune was building up for a last hurrah after he lulled it down like a soft, embarrassed confession, and Jisung couldn’t even stop it before the thought popped in his mind.

 

‘I love him.’

 

He had to bit his tongue to stop himself from smiling from ear to ear, hard enough to draw blood, but not too hard that he’ll have to give the ER a visit. Afraid that he’d make a fool of himself if he suddenly broke off into an idiotic grin without any rhyme or reason (oh the reason was there, he thought, there and staring at me with such dazzling smile). The last chorus was painful to hear. Painful as it was embarrassing when you knew a song was written for you and everyone else now knew what happened and how it happened, even if they probably didn’t know that they were listening to something so true. And painful because Donghyuk was singing, he was saying things he’d never said before. Things they both sort of only blindly grasped about beneath the surface, already content in knowing that they could always find the other’s hand lying underneath the blanket.

 

‘I love him,’ he thought once more, after Donghyuk finished his song to a modest response from the bar’s patrons as everyone was either too busy eating, drinking, or conversing with their own social circle to notice whatever else the ‘band of the night’ had to offer. Donghyuk didn’t seem to care though, as he only stood there for a beat. A long beat, as they exchanged knowing looks that somehow managed to convey so many things that words couldn’t. None. Not even the hundreds and thousands of words that they’ve said to each other in the last three weeks could amount to what they shared in that one silent moment.

 

When time finally caught up with them, everything felt like they were plunged in a filter of over saturation. The light was too bright, the hum of conversation was too loud, and movements seemed to flow as if they were submerged in water. When Donghyuk ran off the stage and Jisung pushed his way off of the small audience area, each stride of a leg would cause colours to swim. And when they finally met in the middle, everything pooled around them like droplets of ink swirling inside a clear glass of water.

 

Jisung was feeling chaotic. Fearful. How long will it last before they disperse and got diluted? Forgotten? When Donghyuk reached out for his arm, his fingers felt so unusually cold. It shivered against Jisung’s skin that was set ablaze from all the emotions he’d went through and he couldn’t find it in himself to stop the thing that happened next, even if he wanted to.

 

They’ve never kissed in front of other people. Yes. Again, maybe it stemmed from the fear. His fear of leering eyes and words being whispered behind his back. But at that moment nothing seemed to matter. Nothing seemed to matter more than being able to feel something tangible, feel the physical conundrum that was Donghyuk’s cool hair, cold to the touch as Jisung raked his fingers through it, taste the blood that seeped from his shallow cut, hear his worried voice, low and hoarse instead of light and warm as he still hasn’t shed his stage persona, asking, “did you hurt yourself?”

 

(I love you.)

 

Jisung shook his head, “no, I’m okay,” and gone with it too the image of a shooting star in his mind.

 

If they were a shooting star, so be it. So be it. He said so himself, don’t think too far into the future.

 

“You were great up there. Really, really great.”

 

(I love you too.)

 

If they are going to burn, let them burn. Let them be fleeting and beautiful, as they flew through the night sky.

 

_ _ _

 

Donghyuk got a call one Friday night, from a very obviously worried Chenle.

 

It was the first time they’ve heard each other’s voice (unless he counted the times Jisung would show Chenle recordings of his song that was poorly done with his phone), and the heavy tint of whining that was present in Chenle’s voice cemented the fact that it wasn’t the best of impression.

 

“He’s not home.”

 

He only said that one thing, but Donghyuk understood right away. They had that knack, the two of them. These two strangers brought together by their love to a mutually special someone. Even in chats they’ve always been brief and concise with each other and not one has he struggled to understand what Chenle meant.

 

“Have you told his parents yet?” Donghyuk asked while looking at the clock. 2 AM. Way past his curfew.

 

“Actually, uhh,- he told them he’s having a sleepover at my place tonight.”

 

Oh great. Just great. So it wasn’t only going to be a search and rescue mission for Jisung’s silly head, but also Chenle’s. This was the exact reason why Donghyuk was so adamant on going with him to his university senior’s farewell party.m, as the kid’s brain is not one that can function well under the effect of alcohol. Anything more than three standard drinks and his soul would’ve left his body, letting autopilot to take over every functions of his body.

 

(“They surely allow a plus one?” “No, no it will be awkward, you don’t know anyone from my uni it’ll be awkward!”)

 

Jisung did promise Donghyuk that he won’t drink too much, that he will drink responsibly. He guessed it didn’t happen that way after all.

 

There was a tiny voice at the back of Donghyuk’s mind that told him to be mad that Jisung has essentially lied to him about his plans for the night, but a louder shout came soon after and went on to berate the silent whisper into a quiet submission. “We have to find him first,” he said aloud, serving as a both a concrete plan for the two of them to execute, and as a reminder for himself. That above everything else, Jisung’s safety is top priority.

 

Nothing essentially happened until four in the morning.

 

Until after hours and hours of tracking down all of Jisung’s university friend that was there in the party and coming up with empty hands, his little dove magically came chirping back to him by himself.

 

(It happened right when Donghyuk almost ignored Chenle’s reluctant begging and pleading for him to not go to the police, because he still valued his life and if Jisung’s parents knew that they lied, and if Jisung’s parent knew that their lie led to their son ending up in harm’s way, then it’s the end of the road for the both of them.)

 

“Donghyuk?” Jisung’s voice was quiet coming out from the receiver of his phone. Shivery and nasal, as if he was in a desperate need of hydration, and a warm place to sleep on. “I don’t know where I am,-”

 

All Donghyuk wanted to do was scream in joy while tugging at his hair as a way to channel his gladness that his little birdie was alive and well, albeit a bit lost. Maybe yell at him too, a little bit of tough love with him asking ‘what the hell were you thinking!’ But miracle came twice that night and Donghyuk found himself being able to maintain his demeanor long enough for him to calmly guide Jisung as they both tried to figure out the place he was sitting on the moment he regained his lucidity.

 

“What can you see around you?”

 

“... I think, I think I’m at a bus stop.”

 

“Can you read the name of the stop?” Donghyuk wanted to say be careful, he wanted to say take your time, he wanted to say don’t stray too far from the light I don’t want you getting anymore lost that you already have, but he noticed from the rustling sound and how Jisung’s confused hum seemed to come from a long tunnel, that he did not have his phone by his ears. And thus all Donghyuk could do was wait. Until Jisung’s voice got picked up again and they were left baffled in silence when he read out the name of the stop he was stranded in.

 

“How could you end up there?” Donghyuk asked while his relieved laughter was being poorly muffled by his palm, which was placed over his mouth.

 

“I don’t knowww,” the pathetic whine that pierced through Donghyuk’s speaker only caused him to let go of his laughter even more (it also caused an itching in his arms, from the urgent desire to gather Jisung up in a tight hug and tell him that everything’s going to be fine), “will you please pick me up?”

 

Of course I would, he thought. To hell and back, Donghyuk would always find him and pick him up. Be it in the middle of the night, at the crack of dawn, driving his car through deserted streets until he reached the suburb that Jisung was stranded on, spotting his lost little birdie huddled at the corner of a bus stop and seeing a thankful smile bursting onto Jisung’s face when he spotted Donghyuk’s unmistakable moss green sedan pulling up to the stop.

 

Jisung terminated the call with one simple press of a thumb when he saw Donghyuk’s car making a u-turn to reach his side of the street.

 

The call that has been going for the last thirty minutes, the time it took for Donghyuk to drove all the way to bum ‘god-knows-where’ suburb that the random midnight bus he took brought him to. Donghyuk threatened to call the police if Jisung ever dared to terminate the call before he could see him. Only when my car is a meter away from your reach. That’s how he said it.

 

A call only filled with faint sound of Donghyuk’s radio. And occasional questions asking if Jisung was still alive and breathing. Said jokingly but it wasn’t hard for him to spot the genuine worry that ran underneath Donghyuk’s light delivery. Everytime he grunted or mumbled a yes, Jisung swore he could hear Donghyuk let out a relieved sigh, followed suit by the sound of him hitting the gas pedal even harder.

 

“Drive safely,” Jisung kept reminding him, and the roar of engine would calm down everytime.

 

There was no need to rush. It was the break of dawn and nobody else was driving on the road this early on an early Saturday morning.

 

“Are we going to Chenle’s house?” Donghyuk asked after Jisung managed to stumble his way to the car and pulled himself in, instantly curling himself up into a tight ball. Without him asking for it, Donghyuk was kind enough to crank up his car’s heater, and off they went. To a destination yet to be defined.

 

Not for long though, as Jisung, after a few seconds of worrying on his bottom lip as if he was about to say something embarrassing (or dire), finally picked up his head from being propped on his knees and shyly mumbled,

 

“Can’t we just go to your house?”

 

‘Why should I be embarrassed though?’ Jisung mulled silently over in his head, ‘he’s been to my house numerous times, we’ve taken naps together, haven’t we? And he’s my boyfriend. My boyfriend. Spending a night at his place should be normal, no?’

 

“Spending a night at your place should be normal, no?” He found himself repeating the last bit of his musings in a quiet mutter, unsure if he did it voluntarily or involuntarily. He was pushed by the alcohol, he decided at last. Because isn’t it easy to blame everything on the three glasses of beer and two shots of whatever the hell it was that his friend gave to him earlier.

 

Jisung half expected Donghyuk to laugh at him and refuse his request (because as wild as Donghyuk claimed himself to be, one thing he always does is to return Jisung to wherever location he’s supposed to be when his silly little curfew was nearing), only to be surprised when he felt an arm thrown around him and a kiss placed softly at the crown of his head as they stopped at a red light. A kiss right in the middle of his hair that must’ve smelled thickly of cigarette smoke.

 

“Chenle is deadly worried of you, you know.”

 

“I’ve said my apologies to him twenty times, every single one different from the others.” And you know how hard it is to remember synonyms when you’re intoxicated? It’s really hard. Jisung wanted to add that to his sentence, but he was silenced when Donghyuk’s laugh really did come. And it sounded so different from all the other times Jisung had heard him laugh. It was light. So light it might’ve just been transparent. So light, he could clearly hear the slight dip at his tone when his laughter fizzled out into a long sigh. As if it took him great pain to audibly convey the thing he said next,

 

“Oh god, I love you so much.” Donghyuk’s left hand, still wrapped around his shoulders even when the light’s turned green, unconsciously grasped on the sleeves of Jisung’s t-shirt, bunching up the fabric in his fist before he realised what he was doing and relaxed his fingers in time with another sigh of relief.

 

And somehow it brought a smile onto Jisung’s face. That pain. That reluctance in his words meant that, ‘he never did this to anyone else,’ he thought, Jaemin’s word from two weeks ago still echoing inside his mind in great clarity, ‘nobody else but me.’

 

All his. In that car, silent but for the hum of its engine and its heater, Donghyuk’s confession was all his.

 

“I love you too.”

_ _ _

 

 

 

“Little dove lost his way, couldn’t find his way home.”

 

They arrived at Donghyuk’s apartment and the sun was already peeking at the horizon. 5.20 AM, it read on the alarm radio at his bedside table. But when Jisung walked back into his bedroom after he did a quick change to a borrowed fresh t-shirt and sweats, Donghyuk had tidied up the room nicely and pulled his blackout blinds tightly over the windows.

 

His sheets were soft, and cool on his burning skin, what with the alcohol still coursing in his veins and warming him up considerably, and the quick wash with scalding hot tap water he did to somehow wash a little bit of grimes he’d collected sitting on an empty bus stop in the middle of the night.

 

Jisung was more than ready to sleep. Pulling up the warm, fluffy duvet up to his chin and snuggling his way to a comfortable position on this foreign bed. But then he felt a pair of eyes that wouldn’t relent on their stares and he reluctantly opened his own again.

 

They were met with Donghyuk’s gaze. And his smile too, almost forming a grin as he looked over Jisung with his head propped up by one arm.

 

“Little dove lost his way, couldn’t find his way home.” Donghyuk half-sung, half-spoke the phrase knowing, and revelling, on how much it’ll fluster Jisung.

 

Indeed, it worked, as Jisung proceeded to nudge Donghyuk’s arm, causing him to lose his balance and plop face first on the pillow. “Stop it.”

 

He did not. Instead, he pushed himself up and laughed, a happy and free one. His eyes turning to crescents as he pried both of Jisung’s hand away from his cheek (because he was trying so hard to cover the deep blush that’d begun to creep onto them, as by then he could no longer blame it on the alcohol he drank almost three hours ago), before he leaned in to plant loud, messy kisses all over Jisung’s face. Like his bedsheet, Donghyuk’s touch, and in extension his kisses, were cool. It was a comforting feeling when contrasted against his flushed skin, and it didn’t take long for Jisung to decide that he didn’t want it to ever end.

 

“Little dove lost his way, couldn’t find his way back to me.”

 

He board a bus to an unknown place and waited for the sun to rise.”

 

And the sun took him back home. Didn’t he?

The sun showed him the way and took him back to me.”

 

The little impromptu song ended in a silent hush, whereafter they stared into each other’s eyes for a beat too long that when Donghyuk silently gave him a quick kiss on his forehead and leaned over him to turn off the reading lamp, Jisung was left feeling… bothered.

 

Jisung stared into the pitch black ceiling while Donghyuk was rustling around beside him, finding a comfortable position for him to finally catch a good night sleep. Which they knew he would get, as they knew that everything has turned out to be alright.

 

When Jisung closed his eyes after he could no longer fight the weight of sleep that hung around oh so temptingly, they stung. As if the stars on his lids had gained texture and their texture was those of rough sandpaper. ‘We should be more than a shooting star.’ He wished so hard. So hard. They should be. Donghyuk is the sun, isn’t he? Jisung figured he could then be his morning star in this equation. The brightest planet that circles him. The most beautiful one. The one that shines so bright yet still it doesn’t burn.

 

(But in the end, he’s only a little dove and little doves will always burn if they try to get too close to the sun.)

 

 

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A N // i love writing this story so much omg it's so gooey so cheesy a mountain of parmesan