Jongdae wore a lot of bracelets on his left arm. There were the ones of his parents, a deep, dark red one from his mother and the emerald one from his father. He wore one from his sister in her signature green, which was much darker than their father’s.
Those had been the first bracelets given to him, but there had been many more after that, all lining his arm and softly clicking whenever he moved. He cherished every single one, for it was a symbol of trust. No one gave out a replica of their personal bracelet easily. At least that wasn't advisable. People who wore your bracelet had certain permissions, like access to your home. Jongdae lived on his own at this point, but without his red and green bracelet, he wouldn't be allowed to visit his parents’ home. Because family might be the highest of bonds for some, but nothing but a burden to others. People had a choice.

Jongdae got along great with his family, and with just about anyone, really.

Out of the 150 bracelets one was allowed to give out at the same time, Jongdae had already given fifteen, always receiving one in return, just how it was supposed to be. That may not sound like much but among people his age, that made him rather sociable. He was usually surrounded by people, even if they didn't share bracelets. Not like Jongdae was the center of attention - he was more of a pleasant piece of a puzzle that could fit in snugly just about anywhere.

And yet Jongdae would seek solitude ever so often, like he did now. He had waved his friends goodbye, had lingered inside the enormous glass dome until they were out of sight, and then left through one of the doors, catching a whiff of fresh air. Sure, the air inside the glass dome was perfectly sterile and only tinged with the scent of greenery, but truly fresh air would always taste a little different. It wasn't harmful or against the law to roam around outside of buildings, but there wasn't really a reason to do so. Inside the dome, the greenery was prettier and there were free chairs and seating opportunities, and even cafés or a library. Outside, where Jongdae was headed to, was just a patch of wild grass. It was a gap between buildings that no one had bothered to build anything on. They had probably just forgotten about it. Jongdae hadn't paid it any heed either, for the longest time. Until he had noticed Jongin.

Jongin was a young man, around his age - a little younger maybe - and that was were their similarities ended.

Jongin was always on his own.

Jongin was soft-spoken, tall where Jongdae lacked height, slender where Jongdae had muscles.

Jongin preferred the wild grass over domesticated, pretty flowers.

And Jongin didn't wear a single bracelet.

He rarely wore shoes, either - something Jongdae noticed now as well, as he approached him. He saw his toes wriggle in the breeze, and then Jongin craned his head to look up at Jongdae from where he was lying in the grass.

"Hi."

"Hi yourself," Jongdae replied, sitting down next to him. Jongin was also graceful, unlike him. Every movement just flowed, every gesture an intricate choreography.

As soon as Jongdae was seated, Jongin shifted until his brown curls touched Jongdae's thigh. Seeking touch, but only the very lightest, was a very Jongin thing to do. Toeing the line of what was appropriate.

Sometimes, Jongdae asked himself whether he was the only one receiving such a privilege.

Sometimes, he hoped that was the case.

Even in a world as peaceful as theirs, where no one had to suffer great losses, there was still selfishness nestled into every human's heart.

"How was your day?" Jongdae asked, because Jongin wanted to talk, he'd mentioned that before, but he often didn't know what to say.

"Nothing happened," Jongin said, gaze always wandering, wandering between Jongdae's face and the sky. Not because the sky was more interesting, but because Jongin didn't want to be stared back at.

"I was looking at flowers today. Like every day."

Jongdae hummed, absently playing with the grass. It was a little dry, but still green. Sometimes it felt like he knew a lot about Jongin, while he felt like a stranger at other times. The other didn't seem to have a job. And he didn't have any bracelets.

"I was looking for a three-leaved clover," Jongin added.

"Three-leaved?" Jongdae repeated.

"Yes. Isn't it ironic? People used to think four-leaved clovers are something special, until they started exclusively growing four-leaved clovers. Now that every clover has four leaves, I thought it would be right to search for a three-leaved one instead."

Jongdae thought about that. There was a lot to think about, hearing this.

"Did you find one?" he finally asked.

"No."

Jongdae hummed, and then lay down next to him, because he didn't know what to respond to that.

"How was your day?" Jongin asked after a period of silence.

"It was fine. Work was a bit boring, but then we went to a café afterwards, so that was fun," Jongdae said. Usually, he'd be more enthusiastic about it all, but being around Jongin somehow prompted him to tone everything down. To be more calm. More balanced.

He felt Jongin's fingertips grazing his wrist, and when he didn't protest, Jongin turned to his side for better access. He really liked the bracelet on Jongdae's right arm. He wore a lot of bracelets on his left arm, but only a single one on his right arm. It was his very own, personal bracelet, one of a kind in terms of color and texture, just like every person's bracelet. Unlike the one of his mother and father, Jongdae's was of a stark white. From the first, awkward encounter onwards, Jongin had always harboured a fascination for Jongdae's personal bracelet, for its smooth surface and the yellowish shimmer sunlight would lure out of it.

"What's the color of your bracelet?" Jongdae asked, his cheek pressed into the grass as he watched Jongin trace out the bracelet again and again.

"It was pitch black," Jongin said, without looking up. He said it like it didn't matter, like he resented it.

"Isn't it still black today?" Jongdae probed, and only received a shrug in response.

"Probably."

He didn't push for more and instead dozed off to the fleeting touch of fingertips dancing over his skin.

"Say, where do you live?" Jongdae asked one late afternoon.

Jongin didn't reply immediately - something had caught his attention and he knelt down next to the massive flower pot, pressing two fingers into the soil. A relieved sigh followed.

"It's not too wet. This plant mustn't be drowning," Jongin explained, and watered the plant from that position, crouched on the ground with bare feet.

Jongdae looked at the plant. It looked healthy, with lucious, beautiful petals that emitted a feeling of eccentric grace. He had no idea what kind of care it needed, but he trusted Jongin. Jongin knew all the plants in the glass dome, and the gardening staff appreciated his help. There was no such thing as an endangered plant anymore, but no matter how nicely primed the soil, every plant could wither, and Jongin had made it his mission to protect every single one of them. It was a little surreal, wandering the dome with Jongin, watering plants while people weren't too far away, enjoying a nice conversation or having a picnic. Neither of them looked like a gardener, but Jongin also looked... out of place in general. Even though he was almost always around. For a moment, Jongdae was struck by the bizarre idea of Jongin being homeless. That was ridiculous, of course. No one was without a home, it wasn't allowed.

"You wanted to know where I live?" he asked as they walked towards the next row of plants fixed to the glass walls. He repeated the question - not to stall time, but simply to tie up the hole he had ripped into the conversation earlier. It had taken some getting used to, but now that he did, Jongdae found it relaxing to be around him, instead of troublesome. With Jongin, there was no need to try and keep a conversation going. He wasn't expecting anything and did things in his own pace. Oftentimes, Jongdae would just wait, and he had learnt not to be needlessly worried about silence with Jongin.

"I've been wondering about that, because I only ever see you outside," Jongdae elaborated, and watched him try to water a flower, the last drops of water pathetically little. Wordlessly, he handed him his own, still moderately filled watering can.

"Well, I couldn't meet you at my home. Or anyone, for that matter."

Jongdae grimaced a little, because that was true.

"But why don't you have a bracelet of your own?"

That way, he could exchange them, allow people into his life in more intimate ways.

Jongdae's mind blanked out at the thought of Jongin and intimacy in the same sentence. He felt flustered, awkward, shy and like a bit of a bad person for being so impure when it came to Jongin.

"That way, you could invite people over or come visit me," he said out loud, drowning out his own thoughts.

Jongin's responding smile was thin, and a little painful.

"I'm not ready yet. I live over there."

He pointed outside and at one of the adjacent, big buildings. Jongdae hummed in something akin to a question. That looked like an unusual place to live, not really like an apartment building. More like an institute, maybe even a hospital.

"I don't have my bracelet because they have it," Jongin said quietly, eyes glued to a flower pot and decisively avoiding Jongdae's gaze.

"And they say I'm not ready yet."

"Who?" Jongdae asked, and when he saw Jongin gnaw on his lip, he quickly switched to a different approach.

"Do you think you're ready?"

Jongin looked up at this, gaze soft, hesitant and very open.

"I don't know."

Jongdae wanted to reach out and touch, give comfort, just do anything, but Jongin seemed so distant and untouchable like this.

"Maybe, if I'm asking myself that question, it's a proof that I am not ready yet."

For a moment, they stared at each other, both searching for something they didn't know the shape of, a question to an unprompted answer.

Then Jongin broke eye contact and shook the watering can a little.

"We need new water," he stated, a rare display of smoothing over a dysfunctional conversation that had reached a dead end.

Jongdae gladly played along and they went to get new water, talking about plants instead.

At home, Jongdae looked up the discreet, elegant-looking building that looked like an ancient boarding school to him. His worst fear turned out to not be true.

It wasn't a hospital, not in the traditional sense. It was a mental institution.

Two days later, after thoroughly thinking things through, Jongdae decided to seek out Jongin after work. With his messenger bag slung around his shoulder, he stopped by a tiny store to get two empty bracelets. It was true that Jongin couldn't do anything without his own bracelet (seeing as you had to wear yours and then touch the empty bracelets together, for the connection to be established), but maybe, just maybe... it could serve as a promise.

It felt like a nice gesture, and an honest one, too. Jongdae would love for Jongin to wear a twin of his own bracelet. He'd be honoured.

That day, Jongin was nowhere to be found though. He wasn't sitting in the sea of wild daisies, he wasn't roaming the dome watering plants, and even when he asked the maintenance staff members, they claimed to not have seen him.

Well, this might just be bad luck, but Jongdae wasn't ready to give up just yet. He took the stairs, and found himself a nice little table to sit at. It allowed him to look down at the small meadow of daisies. outside. Maybe Jongin would come out later.
He spent his time sketching the architecture of the dome, a task he had done countless times before, for work, his lines precise and straight, focusing on technical details. Only this time, he replaced all the flowers with sea plants and coral reefs. An aquarium that Jongin was looking at, sitting outside in the wild daisies. He only very roughly sketched Jongin, but it was certainly his wish to try his hands at a real portrait once. He may be a draughtsman, but even as a draughtsman, you could have a heart and soul resting in your drawings, and Jongdae would like to try and capture Jongin, even if he was lacking in that department.

He finished the sketch, highlighting a few lines with hues of blue and green, and then leaned back to look around the dome.

At first, he thought his eyes might have played a trick on him. But there, downstairs and pressed into a small corner, sat Jongin. It was definitely him, he could see the brown hair and bare feet even from a distance.
Quickly and efficiently, Jongdae stuffed his things back into the bag and walked around to take the marble staircase. Jongin looked like he was curled in on himself, small and unhappy. A vast difference from the way he liked to lie in the flowers. It wasn't surprising that people would leave him alone - Jongin had likely rejected anyone worrying for him and they had respected that decision. It was the right thing to do, undeniably so, and yet it was a bit sad. Jongdae hoped that he wasn't going to get rejected by Jongin, as well.

The closer he came, the more he hesitated. But if Jongin truly wanted to be alone, Jongdae wouldn't have found him in the first place, right?

It was this thought that made him push through and speak up.

"Jongin?"

It was just that - a probing question that felt flimsy, almost weak. Jongdae toyed with the strap of his bag, willing himself to be more confident. But he had no right to close the gap, to kneel down and maybe put a hand on his shoulder. Wearing Jongin's bracelet would be some sort of unspoken consent regarding such a harmless move, but there was no mutual bracelet, no tangible connection, nothing.

So he didn't move, not even when Jongin looked up at him with a puffy face and red eyes.

It was clear that Jongin was holding back on crying, just as clear as the fact that he was a hair's width from breaking down. He parted his lips, but ultimately didn't say anything.

"Do you want me to leave?" Jongdae asked, and when Jongin shook his head, he felt a surge of relief. He took it as a sign to finally sink to his knees. Not into a squatting position that implied him lowering himself to Jongin, to a child, to someone inferior. No, he made himself comfortable straight away. They'd probably not leave anytime soon, anyway.

"Did someone hurt you? Upset you?" he asked, and Jongin put in an effort to sit up a little straighter, give up on hiding himself a little.

He shook his head again. Jongdae felt bad for being impatient now, but currently, Jongin didn't seem to be in the state of leading their encounter.

"Was it them? Are they treating you badly?" he asked carefully, and this time Jongin spoke up with a scratchy voice.

"No. They're alright."

Jongdae could only shoot him a questioning look, almost begging for an explanation, and Jongin squeezed his eyes shut, fingers digging into the fabric of his pants.

"I'm sorry. I- I really want to tell you. I just- I-"

"It's okay, we have time," Jongdae said in what he hoped to be a comforting voice. "Don't push yourself too hard."

Jongin exhaled noisily, and then inhaled, deep and calm. Breathing exercises.

"I don't really know how to explain it," he began anew, after a few, deep breaths. "I get like this sometimes. It's a bad day, where everything just feels... too much. I used to run away and hide, but they encouraged me to be around people as much as I could. Sorry."

"I'm not sure what you're apologizing for," Jongdae admitted with a slightly tilted head, trying to read the emotions twisting on Jongin's face. "I can leave you alone though. You should retreat if that's what feels best-"

"No! I mean no. Sorry. They're right, even if it's bothersome sometimes."

Jongdae didn't understand and it must have been obvious to tell by his expression.

Jongin sighed. Sorted out his thoughts.

"Some people never really leave that place, but I got explicit permission and even encouragement. Because they want me to heal. Being around people... terrifies me."

He shook his head, deciding that this wasn't the best way to word it, and Jongdae waited.

"Not really being around people, but being with people. Ever since," he began, changing directions again, "from a certain point onward, I just got very weird and panicky and reclusive. But that didn't really help me, so now they are helping me."

"What happened?" Jongdae asked, wondering what kind of incident would make someone afraid of people getting too close. He could only imagine all kinds of horror stories, of abuse of body and soul, all those things that their society tried their best to avoid. But no system in the world would be able to take away the smidge of primal cruelty slumbering in some people.

Jongin parted his lips, looked like he was actually going to say it, but no words came out.

Jongdae extended his hand, slowly, giving Jongin a chance to draw away. When no rejection came, he placed his palm on Jongin's upper arm. He stiffened under him, but didn't show any sign of rejection or disgust.

"It's okay. You don’t have to tell me or anything. If you want me to leave, I will. If you want me to stay, I can do that, too."

Jongdae wasn't sure why he was saying that now - it just had to be said, for some reason.

In response, Jongin leaned his forehead against Jongdae's shoulder. He was tense and yet seeking him out. A contradiction. Jongdae's palm wandered up to comfortably lie on Jongin's back. He was itching to give him a hug, to cover every inch of him and shelter him from the world around them.

"They're right," Jongin started again. "They want me to heal, to be able to live my life comfortably. But my brain is messed up."

He didn't allow Jongdae to interrupt him, his voice quiet and whispery, but insistent.

"They treat me well, they don't want anything from me, they provide me with advice and they show me that there is a place in this world for me to return to. The world offers me a place but my head doesn't want it. Right now, I'm the one who's messed up."

A shy hand grasped the fabric of Jongdae's shirt, and he moved closer, allowing Jongin to hold on to him.

"I was happy to give them my bracelet, to cut ties with everyone and be assured that no one was allowed close to me. It was the biggest relief. I know I need to take it back one day. Sometimes, I'm itching to do so. I wanna run up to their office, grab my bracelet and then give it to you. I would like nothing more but to exchange bracelets with you. To maybe visit you or just- I-"

Jongin wriggled in his grasp, clearly embarrassed, but Jongdae would never tease a crying person. Because that was clearly what Jongin was doing. He heard it in his cracking voice, but also felt it, hot and damp, against his shoulder.

"But it's not just you. If I take it back, I take it back for good. And sometimes, I think of being part of a bigger scheme, of being tied to people and surrounded and having no way out, and suffocating, and then I panic. I'm not ready yet. I'm so scared of people."

Jongdae leaned his cheek into Jongin's hair, not putting any weight into it. He thought of what to say, and it took him a while to sort out his own thoughts. This time, Jongin was waiting. Maybe Jongin was waiting a lot, and Jongdae hadn't really noticed it before. Not waiting for Jongdae, but for himself.

Was he also waiting for Jongdae though? To do what? To take another step, to get too close, to reveal ulterior motives?

"Are you also scared of me?" he finally asked, and Jongin refused to look up at him, which was alright, because Jongin was always honest, there was no need to search his eyes for a lie.

"Barely. When it comes to you, I'm mostly scared of myself."

"Because I'm so invasive?"

Jongin lightly shook his head, and at this point, he was awkwardly hugging Jongdae. Awkwardly, but tightly.

"No. Like... when it's someone else, I'm scared they'll hurt me. With you, I'm scared I might hurt you."

"No need to worry," was Jongdae's intuitive response. "I can take a bit of hurt."

"You shouldn't though. And it might be more than a little."

Jongdae suppressed a sigh so as not to alarm the other.

"I'm sorry. I'm just a nuisance, who changes their mind every day," Jongin said nonetheless, apologizing right away for not budging from the spot he had gotten lost in a long time ago.

"Well, I'm not changing my mind a lot," Jongdae proclaimed, placed both palms on Jongin's shoulder and tried to make him look up. Jongin followed the silent request, albeit reluctantly. His face was still puffy, his cheeks stained with a mix of dried tears and fresh ones.

"We can meet every day, even without exchanging a bracelet," Jongdae said, surprising himself a little by how much he meant it. "We might not be able to visit each other's home, or, uh. Get touchy and stuff, but this doesn't change anything."

He was so clumsy, so awkward, he was getting tangled up in his own insecurities now.

"Not that we'd have to be touchy, wearing each other's bracelets. We can never be, I'm not implicating anything, just. I- god, I don't want to upset you, I'm sorry."

"Is it greedy if I still want to wear your bracelet? And for you to wear mine?" Jongin cut him off, looking guilty, and not at all upset at Jongdae. They were in desperate need of addressing the unspoken attraction between them, and now was the chance, but Jongdae didn't know how to - and there seemed more important things to talk about.

"No? I don't think so?"

"I would really like to get closer to you," Jongin continued, his jumbled train of thoughts tripping Jongdae up this time, seeing as he was rather fidgety and a bit of a mess himself. "I don't know if I can, but I'd love it if I could, and I'd like to try. If that's what you want."

"I don't wanna force you into anything," Jongdae began, and Jongin quickly shook his head, holding onto Jongdae's arms as if he feared Jongdae might leave.

"I mean. I'd still like it even if you wouldn't. I- but then I wouldn't do anything and that would be fine and- that sounded very bad, I'm sorry. I'm not just clinging onto you for some weird rehab thing. I promise that's not it."

Jongin was all over the place, and it was getting too hard and confusing to follow, so Jongdae cut him off.

"I know. I get it," he said, with a certainty both of them had lacked before, shooting Jongin a firm look meant to anchor him a little.

"I get it," he repeated, absently looking at the way Jongin grasped his arms. Then he had an idea.

"Wait a moment," he mumbled, and let go of Jongin, who didn't verbally protest. Jongdae was rummaging through his bag, fingers blindly reaching around familiar items until he found what he was looking for.

"Show me your wrist."

"Why?" came the immediate reply, but when Jongdae looked up, Jongin was offering his right arm, fingers balled into a nervous fist, eyes unsurely looking at the thing in Jongdae's lap.

Jongdae held his arm, gently but firmly, his skin cold under his fingers. Then he uncapped one of his pens with his teeth, and began to draw a line around Jongin's wrist. He tried to turn the other's arm as little as possible, keeping it comfortable. The line was clean, crisp and unerring as most of Jongdae's lines, and he made it a little thicker, taking all the time he needed. Jongin didn't say anything and didn't try to pull away.

When Jongdae looked at the finished product, he was pretty content. It had just the same width as his own bracelet, and the pen was of a shimmery white. A simple, painted bracelet going all the way around his wrist.

"See? Even if you don't give me your bracelet, you still have mine," he said, thumbs lightly grazing the rapidly drying line.

"Metaphorically speaking," Jongin added, and Jongdae gave him his best pout.

"Can you please appreciate the gesture?" he asked, about to throw a playful tantrum when Jongin quickly caught his retreating hand, pressing his lips against Jongdae’s bracelet.

"I am appreciating it. I'll never stop."

Jongdae looked around, almost fearing someone would call them out on being frisky without clear consent, but no one was close enough to really notice or paid them any heed.

"You'll get a warning," Jongdae said, slapping Jongin's arm and silently reveling in the fluttery feeling spreading through his stomach.

"A warning about invading someone's space? I feel like my nurse would be proud," Jongin only replied, and his smile was still a little awry, but it was something. A step in the right direction. They both had quite a few more steps to do, especially if they wanted to walk together. But as long as they didn't lose sight of each other and kept moving forward, it would be alright.

The next day, Jongdae found Jongin sitting a few steps away from the entrance to his apartment building.

"Oh, good morning," Jongdae said, genuinely surprised to see Jongin. He'd never seen him so far away from his current home. He'd even put on shoes, walking such unknown grounds.

"I was going to go to work, but- did something happen?"

Jongin quickly jumped to his feet.

"No. No, good morning. Everything's alright. I just wanted to see you. It won't be long."

Jongdae tried not to smile too much at Jongin's flighty behaviour.

"Show me your wrists," Jongin ordered, and Jongdae obeyed before he knew it, mostly confused.

On his left wrist, traveling up his arm, were a dozen bracelets. But Jongin went for his right one, where he only wore his own, white bracelet.

"Close your eyes."

Again, Jongdae just obeyed without questioning. He wasn't sure what he was expecting, but the soft, ticklish feeling sure wasn't it. It was neither a pen nor any solid material.

"Okay. Uhm. You can look now. But don't expect too much."

Jongdae blinked down at his wrist, and at the daisy chain Jongin had tied around it.

"I can put it on the left one, too," Jongin offered with burning cheeks, but it was Jongdae's time to shake his head. For some reason, this seemed more appropriate.

"It's all I can offer right now. If I one day get my bracelet back, would you be willing to wear it?" Jongin asked, the insecurity still there, and Jongdae spoke aloud what he had thought before.

"I'd be honoured."

Jongin smiled, and overcome with feelings he wasn't allowed to physically express, Jongdae raised the daisy chain to his lips, careful not to squash the soft petals.

"I'll give my best," Jongin announced.

"Me too," Jongdae promised.

At this, Jongin laughed, short and breathy.

"You too?" he echoed, and Jongdae stubbornly nodded.

"Yes. Problem with that?" he asked playfully, and Jongin denied with a smile.

"Do you think... hand holding is okay?" Jongdae then asked.

It must be the first time ever that he managed to catch Jongin off guard.

"Huh? I. I'm not sure," he replied evasively, and Jongdae hummed.

"I never really wanted to hold the hand of someone I'm not wearing a bracelet of, though technically, I do wear one of yours now. We probably won’t get any more than odd looks, right?"

He hummed some more, and then finally grabbed Jongin's hand as he started walking.

"Just a few seconds. It'll be fine. If anyone’s got a problem, they'll probably talk it out with your institute, anyway, considering you're a special case."

Jongin ripped his hand free but before Jongdae could show disappointment, he intertwined their fingers again.

"Then at least let me be the one initiating it. That's safer."

There would probably be no need to worry at all, not about a few seconds of harmless hand holding - but they both knew that 'just for now' was going to turn into Jongdae's whole way to work. Neither was willing to let go, and Jongdae couldn't help staring down at their linked fingers, and the daisy chain dangling from his wrist like a living, breathing promise.

He didn't know much about flowers, but he was determined not to let this one wither away.

If you liked this, feel free to let me know :3
If you have questions or anything else to say and, for whatever reason, you're too nervous about doing so, you can anonymously ask me on curiouscat~ ♥
Love,
Sugar-and-Salt ♥