The fireworks go off as the clock hits midnight, small and very much unappealing from where Youngjae is standing; toes numb and face frozen. People around him begin cursing in different languages, and Youngjae is very close in doing so—more specifically to a certain Thai boy with silver hair—but has zero energy to spare.

‘Hyung, it will be cool! You came all the way to New York, you should at least see the fireworks!’

It turns out there is nothing to see from Brooklyn Bridge.

It is ing -14 degrees Celsius. Youngjae had been standing for an hour. 

He is going to kill Kunpimook alright.   

The said person, however, is nowhere to be found. He might have sensed the murderous intent oozing from the older boy and had flee with Yugyeom in tails. Youngjae reluctantly pulls out his right hand from the comfort of his coat pocket to dial his (supposedly) friend’s number.

It does not get through.

Now Youngjae curses for real. It is only his first week in New York, and being terrible with direction as he is he does not know how to get home—or anywhere, really—without the two douchebags he calls friend. He cranes his neck, frantically looking for a pair of yellow and silver head in the crowd. Everyone, however, has their hoodies up like every sane person will in this chilly winter weather, so Youngjae’s attempt meets a pathetic end.

Panic begins to surge in. His English is almost non-existent, his sense of direction fails him, and the cold is biting him hard all over. So, he does what he does best: shout at the top of his lungs. “Bambah-ah! Yugyeom-ah!”

His voice is quickly drowned by the buzzing crowd. Youngjae wants to cry.

“Bam—”

He whips his head so fast when he feels a tap on his shoulder, thinking that his friends do not abandon him after all; but instead he is greeted by an unfamiliar face.

He blinks one. Twice. (He swears it is not due to the stranger’s extremely good look.)

“Are you Korean?”

Youngjae is in the verge of tears as he listens to the recognizable language, looking at his savior with pleading look, then nods. He croaks a broken ‘Yes’

“Are you lost?” The stranger looks genuinely concerned.

“Yes. I was with a friend but I could not reach them and I do not know how to get home and it is so cold I cannot think straight I think I might die any minute why do I—”

The stranger cuts his mindless rambling with hands on his shoulders. Chuckling, clearly amused. Youngjae will be embarrassed in other circumstances, but the chilly air has numbed all of his nerves that he simply pouts.

“How about we get off this damn bridge, find a cup of coffee somewhere, then try contacting your friend again after?”

If he is in a clear state of mind Youngjae would have remembered his mother’s talk about stranger’s danger. The man standing in front of him could as well be a kidnapper, and he will end up being sold somewhere across the sea by the next morning. But it is freezing, and common sense fails Youngjae in such situation. So Youngjae obediently matches the other’s long strides as they attempt to escape the harsh New York’s wind.

It turns out that Jaebum (Youngjae finally has the decency to ask for his name 30 minutes into their conversation) is a recent college graduate and is no criminal (If you don’t count the one time he steals his roommate’s ramyun). He had heard Youngjae’s desperate shout (His word, not Youngjae’s) when he himself was looking for his friends. But unlike Youngjae and his inability to find the way home like a decent college student he should be, Jaebum knows his way around New York despite his short visit from Seattle. So here he is, stuck sitting in a convenience store with a cup of bad hot coffee, accompanying Youngjae until he can reach his friend’s phone.

“I’m sorry, hyung. My call still could not get through him.”

Youngjae flashes him an apologetic smile, which Jaebum just brushes off with a grin. Bambam still has not pick up, and so does Yugyeom. It is already 1 am and Youngjae is pretty sure Jaebum has something more important to do; like sleeping, or burning his money on pricey and fancy alcoholic beverages. “How about your friends?” The younger is suddenly reminded by the flashing screen of Jaebum’s phone.

“Oh, they are in nearby bar, don’t worry.”

Gosh, he is so kind and chick—Youngjae is probably falling (just a tiny bit, he convinces himself).

“So, are you here for the holiday?”

Then they easily fall back into a comfortable conversation, moving from one topic to another in an almost frightening ease. Youngjae thinks that it may be Jaebum’s wonderful socials skills (because he certainly is lacking on that part), or the fact that they have similar music taste, follow the same singers, or maybe it is simply that the older has this extremely nice face which Youngjae could not stop himself from staring—so he gives his best effort to keep the conversation going only so he can look at that face without looking like a creep.

Handsome man with charming smiles sure makes Youngjae weak.

In the middle of Jaebum’s monologue about his childhood in Goyang that Youngjae wouln’t mind listening for hours, honestly (his voice, don’t make Youngjae starts talking about his voice), his ring tone blares annoyingly—it’s Bambam, finally.

“Bam! Where are you?!” Youngjae couldn’t hide his relief as he hastily picks up the phone. Jaebum smiles reassuringly at him as Youngjae excuses himself to a quieter corner of the bustling convenience store.

When he gets back to their seat five minutes later, Jaebum is gathering his stuffs and Youngjae’s heart drops a little. He almost forgets that he only met the other two hours ago and they are not even technically friend, and this could as well be their first and last meeting.

He is kind of disappointed that Bambam’s phone rises from the death (Both Yug’s and his phone had died due to the cold weather, the Thai boy had explained.)

“So, is your friends on their way?” Jaebum asks, looking a little more concerned. He seems to be in a rush.

“Yes, hyung. They are close by so they will be here any minutes now.”

“Okay, well, I really don’t want to leave you,” he bites his bottom lip nervously, Youngjae, helped by his tiny tiny delusion, can see how sincerely regretful Jaebum is, “but my friends are leaving and I need to get going.”

Youngjae understands. He already takes to much of Jaebum’s precious time anyway—them being strangers and all.

“It’s okay, hyung. Really.” Youngjae flashes him the brightest smile he could muster. “They are on their way, and you have done so much for me. I just could not thank you enough.”

They are caught in a weird stare off for a little while, the unspoken dancing in the small space separating them. Jaebum looks like he wants to say something, and Youngjae is doing his best to keep his real thought deep inside. He likes Jaebum, in a hero-worship kind of way (he saves his life, okay?) and maybe a little bit more because he is handsome and nice and a boyfriend material in general (and he seems to also like Youngjae a tiny bit, by the way he has been staring—and kind of flirting—tonight; Youngjae is not that oblivious). But serendipity is an overused cliché and Youngjae is not one to count on his luck. That is why he will stay in his lane, he decides.

Jaebum hesitates for a bit more, and it looks like his brain finally settles on closing the door on all the what ifs with one last regretful stare. He bids Youngjae good bye and Youngjae thanks him once again.

They go into their separate ways.

Because serendipity is an overused cliché, and by the end of next week Youngjae will be back in Seoul and Jaebum in his apartment in Seattle.

Youngjae convinces himself there is nothing much to regret. (he fails at it)

*****

When he meets Jaebum again the next day, Youngjae questions the probability that he may have been thrown into a romance comedy that he never agrees to be part of. Because, this, this is ridiculous.

They stare at each other dumbfoundedly before Jaebum loud laugh echoes in the small Korean restaurant, and it takes Youngjae only a split second to mirror the action. Their mutual friends gape at them like they are a little bit out of their mind. (Which Youngjae kind of think that he is)

Mark, which is Yugyeom’s senior and friend from his dance crew, is roommate with Jinyoung, who is sort of Jaebum’s best friend. And when they decide to grab a meal together, this happens.

“Wait, will you stop and explain, because I sure don’t understand what’s funny.” Bambam huffs, annoyed that he is not part of the fun.

But it takes five more minutes of Youngjae and Jaebum laughing their asses of before a coherent explanation can be made at all.

(“damn, what a coincidence.” Mark wonders out loud.

“it is like you’re meant to be.” Jackson jokingly adds.

“this is fascinating.” Jinyoung muses.)

And Youngjae still tries his best to hide how he actually may or may not have a crush on Jaebum, despite the other’s clear intention to flirt his way into Youngjae’s heart (not that he have not succeeded without much trying, but Jaebum cannot know that)

Because by the end of next week Youngjae will be back in Seoul and Jaebum in his apartment in Seattle.

Serendipity and fate are overused clichés anyway.

*****

“Dude, I don’t understand you.”

“Hmm?” Youngjae is almost asleep, dead tired from all the walk they have done today. He did enjoy his time, moreover when a certain someone from Seattle could not leave his side all day, but he needs his much deserve sleep and he hopes the Thai kid understands that. Bambam needs to save whatever bull he is thinking for tomorrow.

“You and that hot dude Jaebum is all over each other all day but both of you don’t exchange numbers. Like, why?”

Youngjae does not know. Maybe because Jaebum never actually asks, and so does Youngjae. And they keep on being in the border of ‘I want you’ but ‘I don’t really want to want you’ and all that ambiguous s worthy of melodramatic K-Dramas.

“Just because, Bam.”

It does not satisfy the younger, and now he is forcefully turning Youngjae’s body so they are face to face.

“Dude, seriously.”

Youngjae sighs. Bambam will not leave him alone before he gets what he wants.

“In my part,” Youngjae begins, because no way he can speak on Jaebum’s behalf, “I am just being realistic. Okay? I am only here for, like, another week. Then I will be back to Korea and who knows how many years it will take for me to save up and visit again. I like him, yes, I do. But my life and his life are oceans apart and it is just not realistic to think that we can make a relationship work. So why bother starting something that will end up falling apart anyway?”

“But,” Bambam counters, looking more dejected than Youngjae is, which is funny considering Youngjae is clearly the main character of this rom-com in the making the universe is working on. “It is just a pity, you have such a wonderful meeting AND you both like each other. We can make this friendship works, why not try with him?”

Sadly, friendship and relationship work in different ways; Youngjae understands that. Bambam, Yugyeom, and him may only meet a few times a year when Yugyeom goes back home, sometimes dragging Bambam along. But friendship works in a way that even if you do not talk every single day it will still be fine. A relationship between lovers, though, is trickier. It has a heavier baggage, of wants, of jealousy, all the flaming desires threaten to burn your every being when leave unattended. Or that it flickers down and dies unknowingly before your very eyes as you blink for a second too long. Jaebum may be hot, and everything that Youngjae wants from a man, but knowing him in merely two occasions is no guarantee of happy ending at all.

Youngjae likes things to be within the safe lines of comfort.

Serendipity and fate are overused clichés anyway.

(the next morning Youngjae received a text from an unknown number.

‘Good morning, Youngjae!

Do you want to meet for lunch?

-JB

he answers a ‘sure, why not’ just because)

*****

“Hyung, take my picture!” Youngjae excitedly bounces in front of the flashy window displays. Jaebum chuckles, amused by the younger’s cute action and oh how much Youngjae adores that smile, the way the older’s eyes vanish in thin crescents and his whole face lit up.

So maybe Youngjae does find lunch with Jaebum to be one of his best experiences in New York, mainly because it is just the two of them and he can stare at Jaebum’s face all he wants without his friends looking at him like he is a creep (that face can beat every single tourist attraction in this megapolitan alright). And maybe it is also because they cannot stop talking, reminding Youngjae about their first meeting and all its wonder. Or because even when they are silent it is comfortable, Youngjae nibbling at his second slice of cheesecake in pure delight as Jaebum fond gazes linger.

So Youngjae keeps on telling himself that the day after tomorrow he is flying to Incheon—even when they decide that lunch is not enough and that they should spend they whole day together instead.

“You look cute.” Jaebum is giving him the same charming smile that makes Youngjae all kind of weak, and a little bit stupid.

He blames that smile for his next remarks.

“Let’s take a selfie and be cute together.”

Jaebum, however, happily steps closer and the concept of personal space falters altogether.

Oh, how they do look cute together, Youngjae muses as he looks at the picture(s).

*****

“You really don’t have to do this, I know how to get home.”

Youngjae pouts, but it only makes Jaebum’s hold on his hand tighten as the older fails to contain his smile.

(It is cold, ing cold, outside. Youngjae’s hands are numb and so do Jaebum’s—handholding is an efficient way to keep each other warm. Okay?)

(and it also warms something inside of their chest, so yeah, very much more effective than any handwarmers.)

“I know, but I just want to.”

Jaebum becomes even more transparent about his attraction to Youngjae, and that is endearing—they way his warm stares fall on Youngjae, the way he laughs and smiles to Youngjae’s antics, the way he gently pulls him closer when they walk among the crowd—and who is Youngjae to deny such a gentleman.

So even when Youngjae keeps on telling himself that the day after tomorrow he is flying to Incheon he returns the gaze as warm, laugh as loud, and hold as tight. And if Jaebum were to kiss him right now he knows he will never be able to hold back.

(and Jaebum does kiss him lightly, on the cheek.

Youngjae is a little shameless so he pecks the other’s lips instead. Very quick.

And he runs inside even faster, shouting a ‘see you tomorrow’ without looking back.

It will be their last ‘see you tomorrow’, he tells himself.)

*****

The next day they do not meet each other.

Youngjae is dragged by Bambam and Yugyeom all over New York as it will be their last day together—before Yugyeom goes home on Spring break (and Bambam had promised Youngjae to tag along). So Youngjae has a lot fun with his best friends, convincing himself that it is the sadness of parting with the two that keeps on gnawing at his heart, chewing mercilessly at the weak lump in his chest. He does not understand why sadness likes to eat it away, it must have taste bitter because that’s how Youngjae’s mouth has been feeling for hours now.

The text also has not come. Maybe Youngjae has stepped over a forbidden line yesterday, but he does not want to think about it. There is no need to think about it. Tomorrow he is flying to Incheon at 9 am.

Luggage nicely packed, Youngjae lies on Bambam’s bed alone, the younger is with Yugyeom next door watching some stupid movie meant for a laugh. Bambam always gets rather melancholic when it is time to part with each other he could never stand to be in the same room with Youngjae.  

The text still has not come.

‘See you tomorrow’ has not been fulfilled.

Youngjae has been in the verge of sleep when his phone rings.

It is 1.31 am.

‘Jaebum’ flashing on the screen.

Without really thinking much, Youngjae answers with a weak ‘Hi, hyung.’

“Hi, Youngjae.”

And it is silent again. This time, though, there is nothing comfortable.

It is the unspoken again which dances between the static of the phone call. It has grown fatter in the span of days, motions painfully slow and sluggish, weights a little bit too much for both of them to bear. So, they both sigh. Almost at the same exact time. And Youngjae would have laugh if it is a romance comedy; but this looks more like a melodrama without a happy ending at this point, so he just sighs some more.

“So, are you leaving tomorrow morning?”

Youngjae nods, before he remembers Jaebum could not see him, then he lets out a weak ‘yeah, hyung’

“I,” Jaebum hesitates. “I will not be able to see you off. I have an appointment with my interviewer tomorrow morning.”

Youngjae feels the sadness grows, now gnawing at his heart more forcefully. He does not understand why everything can grow in such little time, including distance.

“It’s okay, hyung. It is more important anyway.” He does not know what kind of interview Jaebum will be having. He remembers now that he does not really know Jaebum’s life at all. He only knows him for a week, he reminds himself woefully.

But like everything his feeling grows too big too fast.

“Youngjae, I—,” Again, Jaebum hesitates. Youngjae listens, keeping his expectation at bay.

The silence lingers a little bit too long this time.

“Hyung?”

Jaebum cuts of the phone call.

(by the time he sees Jaebum’s message he is already comfortable in his own apartment bed in Seoul, cuddling his dog Coco.

‘I’m sorry, Youngjae. I don’t think I can say it now. Have a safe flight’)

Serendipity and fate are overused clichés, but Youngjae sincerely hopes the writer of his life is an old-fashioned sap.

*****

It is already March, almost two months since the last time he had heard of Jaebum (except that one time he stalks the other’s Instagram—it gives him so much heartbreak and what ifs Youngjae uninstalled the app the next day). And the last time he checks he is still in Seoul.

So Youngjae is at lost when the said man is standing less than four meters in front of him. He pinches him arm to make sure he is not dreaming (or finally loses his mind).

“Hi.”

Youngjae could not properly function (how could he?) so he continues to stare. Here Jaebum is, looking effortlessly good while Youngjae is in tracksuits, saying a casual hello with his signature charming smile while Youngjae has trouble to properly breath.

“Wh—” What? How? WHY?

His questions leave unfinished, just like everything else between them.

Jaebum looks sheepishly at him before quickly closing the distance and sweeps Youngjae into a hesitant hug, longing lingering between the unoccupied space of their bodies. “Is this still okay?”

Youngjae does not answer, because he still could not properly function—but he knows he wants closure so he embraces Jaebum like he never wants to let go.

(Jaebum, Youngjae learns five hours later after the cuddling and kissing finally come to a halt, is not coming for a visit; he is moving to Seoul. The older got a job at an international company (the one he had an interview in January), but nothing was settled back then and Jaebum, Youngjae quotes, does not want to keep Youngjae hanging on the uncertainty of fate.

But it does not matter now.

It does not matter that Jaebum had chickened out, or that Youngjae has too quickly given up. They are realistic people, and the reality is that they are now together. And their relationship will need a lot of work; Youngjae still is not sure that black is Jaebum’s favorite color, and Jaebum still does not know the other’s absolute contempt of cucumber. But it is okay. The writer of his life is a sap anyway. Youngjae can count on whoever it is to give him a happy ending.)

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Okay..... I have not write in such a long time this turns out super bad ><