"More beautiful to me than any flower" croons Billy Ocean on the radio.  "You're my Rose."

Leaning back on his elbows, Minseok closes his eyes, soaking up the summer sun.  They're out in the neighborhood park on a crinkly vinyl picnic mat.  Suddenly, Jongin turns to Minseok.

"Hyung" he calls, making Minseok open his eyes and look at him.  "Compared to a rose, you're-"

Minseok's already blushing, bringing a hand up to his reddening cheek.

"You're not as beautiful" Jongin finishes with a smirk.

Minseok drops his hand, yelping and throwing a fist of torn grass at him.  Jongin laughs, not bothering to brush off the green blades.

"But to me, you're much more fragrant than a rose" he murmurs, burying his nose into Minseok's neck.

This time, Minseok blushes even deeper, crimson staining down to his collarbones.  Jongin chuckles into Minseok's cheek, biting it softly, then pressing a gentle kiss to the soft spot right next to Minseok's lips.

The memory comes like an insult, affronting and shocking.  

"Turn that off" Minseok tells Officer Lee sharply.

"Sir, you don't like this song?"  The mp3 player goes for a second and then another Billy Ocean song comes up.  "We can try another."

"There'll be sad songs to make you cry" Billy sings.  "Love songs often do."

Minseok just scowls and before be can say something he regrets, he retreats to his containment unit.  Briefly, he feels a tiny bit of guilt creeping into his chest as he leaves his other crewmates in distressed confusion.  It's been one year in space and if anything, it's become harder to be apart from Jongin.

As Minseok climbs into the inside of the unit, ready to go into an induced sleep, Minseok tries not to look out the window.  Planet Earth is too far away, but Jongin is still in his heart.  The glass door closes over his tightly secured body.  Hearing the whoosh of the decompression, Minseok sighs, closing his eyes.

He doesn't want to be like this.  He doesn't want to cry or lash out.  He is tired of always longing for someone he can't have.  Gingerly, as if he's handling a fresh, sensitive wound, Minseok recalls the memory again.  This time he lets it play out a little longer, remembering how Jongin had sung into Minseok's ear - a low reverberating voice that Minseok had felt to his very bones.

Shuddering, Minseok lets himself remember the hours of dusk just before the last of the sun had faded from view.  He remembers the temperature of Jongin's lips and the vibrations of his tongue.  The indicator light on his unit turns green before it beeps, indicating the seconds before induced slumber.  And right before Minseok falls into a deep, deep sleep, he remembers the beat of Jongin's heart, in sync with his own.

"And though you might not shine brighter than a star" Minseok thinks, listening to Jongin's singing.  "You're much much warmer."