"Ah, Jonghyun," Jinki murmurs as he pats down the corner of the blanket. The dewy grass is uncut, and the peaks of the blades graze at his bared ankles. He cranes his neck up. The sky is unfolded and smooth above him. "It's cold out tonight."

The stars blink down at him. He wonders if they're cold up there too, lonely spikes of light in the darkness, without the moonlight.

He shivers. They're up there without Jonghyun, no greater silvery light outshining them all. So - he supposed they must be lonely and cold like him too.

At least he has a blanket, and he reaches down to pull his thick pink socks even higher. His jacket is zipped up to his chin, and the ear-flaps of his hat are old-fashioned and warm. He can barely hear anything even with them up; he drove outside the city so they could see the sky better. It's too late and too early.

Jinki laces his fingers together and pulls his knees up towards his chest. He lets his words come out soft into the cold air, allows them to scatter with the breeze.

"Did I tell you I went to Jeju last weekend? The ocean, ah, it's so beautiful and peaceful. And the flowers - fields of them, so bright! - I know it's not the same, but here - "

He pulls out a single yellow flower from his pocket, the petals huddled together for warmth. He cups them between his palms and raises it up, so there's no shadows - just the starlight falling across them.

The wind dances a little, playing with the stems. Jinki smiles.

"Still beautiful," he says. He looks up at the night sky. It's still cold and lonely, and moonless. The smile limps a little. 

"You're taking your time tonight, ah?" he says, louder now. It feels like a dust thrown up as a barrier. His throat feels tight, and he sniffles. It's cold. "That's okay. I can wait."

 He falls asleep. Moonlight peers through the trees and watches as his eyelids twitch. 

"I'm here," he says, as he settles besides his resting frame. The cold rushes away from where it was rubbing at skin, teasing out goosebumps. "Jinki - "

The man doesn't start to wakefulness; his eyelids raise up, silent with the world around them. 

"You're here," Jinki says. There's wonder in his voice. There's always wonder in his voice, every month, when Jonghyun comes down. 

"Of course I am."

Jinki arches up to meet his downward motion, like a petal twisting into a lake. Jonghyun tastes clear and pure and bright. It rushes into Jinki, fills him whole. 

"You took so long," he says when they part. 

"I'm sorry," Jonghyun stretches out beside him. He wiggles his feet, delighting in the rare sensation of limbs. "Some months are easier than others."

Jinki hums, accepting. His body twists over to face Jonghyun instinctively; he craves the close contact after 29 days of seeing him from so far away. Jonghyun nuzzles closer to him, breathes near enough that his hair whispers against Jinki's eyelashes. 

"You brought me a flower," he says in the small space between them. Jinki goes pink, pink like his socks, and Jonghyun giggles. He sparks brighter and brighter. "I really liked it."

"Jeju," Jinki says. "Did you hear me earlier?"

"I always hear you. Anywhere in the world," he says as Jinki brushes his lips against the soft line of his cheek. They smile against each other. 

"I'll bring you another, next month," he laces their hands together, and brings them up. Jinki speaks it into Jonghyun's palm, he makes promises to the moon he'll never break. "Every month until you've seen every flower in the world."

Jonghyun glows, brighter and brighter, in his delight, and Jinki is content to bask until the dawn breaks.  

And then he'll find his next flower.