Behind
 

Seunghoon is grinning at him, this is how Jinwoo knows that he is up to no good. Not that he is ever. He shoves him a pamphlet, waves it under his eyes all giggling. Jinwoo tries to read it, but with all the excitement from his friend, who is fooling around, he has to take it from his hands. He scowls, confused, but Seunghoon keeps on grinning with confidence, staring at his reaction.

"Well... “ he says, focus on the flayer, “it would be a good practice. Maybe it counts as extra credits?" he wonders, half convinced. It would be so good if he could manage to get some, he would save half his tuition’s fees for his last year - he needs to save as much as possible before finishing the course. Seunghoon beams, cheering for him to take over it. Jinwoo looks at the requirements, brows knitted in the middle of his unsure face. He could do it but maybe it would be too much to handle: too much ado.

"The position has your name on it!" he proclaims and Jinwoo gives in. He should have known better than Seunghoon had something else in mind. But Seunghoon insists and he is so skilled at selling what he wants that Jinwoo is sold out in a minute to the idea. “You are so good at counselling, you will do it perfectly!”

Jinwoo is aware that his friend is sweet-talking him, flattering him with his blarney, his silver tongue, but he can’t stop the smile that is escaping from his frowned lips. Maybe he is right, maybe he can get some practice and, anyway, he will be able to help people which is what he wants to do for a living: if he can do good deeds, that will be enough reward to him.

Jinwoo talks with his tutor and, even though he won’t get free credits, volunteering is very valued on the curriculum and would talk well about his merits and personality. So he takes the place gratefully, thinking in all the support he can provide to others.

“So you can put your knowledge to good service, help people,” the teacher encourages him, proudly, and Jinwoo is convinced that this is going to be an excellent experience, free practice for the future, for the moment he has to deal with real patients as he has been studying for.

And, like this, Jinwoo gets the position - because he has been the only volunteer, - and the website is launched a week after and it is all full of hot air because not a single student is sending him their worries. Which leaves him waiting, expectant, not giving up even when another week passes by without novelties, all his diligent research and analysis going to waste. But he persists, checking his e-mail every five minutes.

“Take it easy hyung,” Seunghoon snatches out his phone, “I came to watch a film, not to watch you stressing over a non-profitable job,” he jokes and Jinwoo’s brows meet in the middle of his wrinkled nose.

“You were the one selling me this position! You should be more concerned about it!” he pouts, punching him with a cushion. “And you have nothing better to do, dumb-,” he adds, sitting next to Seunghoon. “So the least you can do is hearing me out. Because it’s more a patience exercise than any sort of therapy,” Jinwoo complains, a beer on his hand and Seunghoon on his couch. Seunghoon smiles at him with pity and he smashes him again because it is all his fault. “Well, it’s more like a blank space since nobody is asking anything, not even the date,” he sighs, leaning on Seunghoon.

“I’m sure it will change soon. I’ll spread the word that this web exists,” he promises and Jinwoo nods; after all, Seunghoon knows everyone.

It is all jokes and fun, all the enquiries and miseries he receives are sent by Seunghoon. He replies to all his stupidity with more stupid comments and, in no time, the hot-line website turns into their personal, exclusive chat, and Jinwoo is thankful that this is all kept private between the sender and the counsellor: that it’s all a shared secret among themselves. But nobody cares because nobody knows, so Jinwoo types another reply to Seunghoon’s query about what to have for lunch.

~ The answer is always going to eat at Seunghoon’s place ~ he posts it and, from the other room he can hear Seunghoon giggling.

“What do you want, then, hyung? I’ll cook!” he says, peeking to Jinwoo’s dormitory. Jinwoo turns on his chair, smiling brightly at him.

“That’s why I don’t want to finish school. I’ll miss you so much…” he pouts, counting the days left to the end of the term, when he will have to live on his own, stepping into the real world.

“I can’t wait to let go of you and bring in all the chicks that I want,” he laughs and Jinwoo smashes him with a pillow. Not that it matters, Jinwoo has never been a mishap for Seunghoon to bring in whoever he wants.

“As if a chick would ever come near you!” Jinwoo smirks at him and Seunghoon pouts: Jinwoo has hit home. “You will always have me,” he says, linking arms, reassuringly, his chin tugged on his shoulder, peppering him with annoying, flying kisses that brush his skin.

“That’s the problem. They all think I’m dating you, you clingy !” but he doesn’t mind, he traps Jinwoo and rolls his knuckles on his scalp. “Anyway,” he releases Jinwoo, “how is the hot-line going? Is it still a waste-land or someone else has come to annoy you?” he queries, curiously. Jinwoo shakes his head.

“Nothing important. But last Monday I got a message about choosing courses. And that’s the most interesting one,” he smiles, remembering his first case – the first real one. “Other than that it is our personal chat,” he adds smirking because that's all - it's been over a month and he has only gotten a bunch of absurd comments and half-witted emails from Seunghoon and Jinwoo has been considering quitting since students aren't taking it seriously.

“Hyung! You shouldn’t go around telling me your patients’ troubles! Where is the confidentiality in here?” he declaims, overreacting, throwing his hands to the air, faking shock - the drama queen.

“As if telling you that people ask me about what T-shirt to wear would break any ethical code,” he shrugs, “but, if you have so many issues regarding privacy, I’ll classify them and shut up completely. I'll also kick you out of the page, for being such an ,” he says all cheeky and Seunghoon laughs because he knows he would never do that - Jinwoo likes to hear Seunghoon's opinions about all the matters, likes to share his daily life with him before going to bed.

“I have the feeling that your page will get busy in no time,” Seunghoon warns him with a side smirk that means nothing good and Jinwoo prays for him to be right: he wants the page to do good, to give some solace to others looking for mental aid – or, at this point, any kind of counselling.

Jinwoo’s phone vibrates and he is startled. That hasn’t happened in a while. He takes it an unlock the screen just to see a pop-up message from the hot-line website. He smiles, already sensing Seunghoon, who is still the main user of the page and that Jinwoo hasn’t ousted yet – but will, depending on what he has posted now.

But it’s not Seunghoon, is a real query. Finally, someone who needs his knowledge – someone with a problem Jinwoo can help with, not yet another steam of silly questions that got him panting with all of their stupidity. Just in case, he lowers his expectations since, so far, he has received only one case to work with.

~ Hello. My name is Song Minho, I’m on my second year of liberal arts and I need some love assistance. There is someone I really like but he is not aware of my existence. I tried to be noted to no avail. He is the nicest person I’ve ever met, kind and amiable. But despite all, he hasn’t noticed me even though we have common friends and I asked them to speak to him about me. His name is Kim Jinwoo, and I really hope that you can help me to get him. Thank you! ~

Jinwoo blinks and re-read the message, aghast. As much as he rubs his eyes and blinks, it doesn’t go away – it is still there, it’s not a dream. But it can’t be. This has to be from Seunghoon, his heartless, crushing friend who doesn’t know when to draw a line and stop a joke. This is way too much and he is going to have a chat with Seunghoon because he is playing with his feelings and that’s cruelty.

He knocks on his door and comes in uninvited, stomping on the floor fiercely, only to find that his friend is looking at him surprised by his arrival.

“What is this, Seunghoon? It’s not funny!” he shoves his phone on his face, nails tapping on the screen. Seunghoon is addled, having a gander on the text.

“I have nothing to do with this,” he is serious, handing the device back. “It must be someone else. Or maybe it is Minho, he is dumb enough to ask for love advice to a stranger,” he comes clean to Jinwoo, brows raised. “But it hurts being accused of such a crime,” he protests, “such an ingrate friend.”

“All right, I’m sorry I came to conclusions too fast. I’ll make dinner, don’t even mention it,” Jinwoo cuts him out before he can start complaining and asking for compensations he doesn’t deserve but that he will get only to shut him up.

“Who else knows about your little crush?” Seunghoon wonders, a list of suspects ready – anything to clean his name.

“Maybe Seungyoon? But he is a good kid, wouldn’t do that,” Jinwoo is sure of Seungyoon’s innocent – he is a baby, unable of any harm or wrong-doing.

“What about his evil twin?” Seunghoon comments, “Jiho.”

“Jiho? I doubt he knows that I exist,” he replies and the grilling ends with no more dropping names – Jinwoo’s list of friends and acquittance is very short, it takes one minute to go over them both.

“So that leaves us with only one possibility. It’s Minho himself confessing to you!” Seunghoon exclaims all excited, dancing around Jinwoo to the pace of his heart’s content. “Well, indirectly,” he points out.

“That’s impossible!” Jinwoo denies. It is not. Minho can’t like him because he is so cool and famous and wonderful and Jinwoo is… Jinwoo. He is quiet and awkward and a fool – because only a fool would hold a tiny bit of hopes to have a chance with someone like Song Minho, the It guy of the whole campus, admired and loved by all, the trend settled, the lad everybody talks about.

“Did you reply to the post?” Seunghoon asks, worried, “I can do it for you if this is too triggering,” he smirks. knowing that this will scare the out of his friend, the dork, but Jinwoo pushes his phone to his core and runs to his dormitory, away from any weird thing Seunghoon can pull out.

It’s 5 am and Jinwoo can’t sleep. He has been tossing around, fidgeting, the message lingering in his mind, disturbing him. He has to do something.

He doesn’t know what, though – and Seunghoon is no help, Jinwoo wants nothing to do with him and his waterfall of unasked tips under the form of post-it sneaked through the crack of his door, shading with bright neon his ceiling. He has read them all, torn them to pieces and thrown them to the bin: Seunghoon is mental and nothing he says will be of any use, ever.

Jinwoo takes his phone and stares at Minho’s post.

He should be elated that the person he has a crush on is reciprocating his feelings, he should be with him now, confessing his feelings. Instead, he is all nervous and stressed and unable to provide him with any tip. Jinwoo feels useless, with Minho camping free on his mind, his head stamped on the pillow, a grimace all over his face and his mind a whirlpool of thoughts and sentiments.

It’s morning again and Jinwoo is resolute. With bangs under his eyes and his hair disarrayed for all the times he has it in despair, he has come to terms with his problem: it’s impossible that Minho is interested in him, so he will play along with this pretender until discovering who he really is – probably Seunghoon, the er, still -hurt for losing their last bet. Or maybe Seungyoon, the kindest heart of them all, trying to encourage him somehow. But it is clear as day that it’s not Minho – because Minho isn’t aware of Jinwoo’s existence and, definitively, they have no common friends, not to mention how impossible it is to believe that the greatest Minho could be fancy him, not even the sightliest bit.

He takes a deep breath and types. During his insomnia night, another message has appeared and Jinwoo rushes to reply to it first. He writes a short comment to Minho’s case and waits.

Nothing happens or changes. Jinwoo goes to class, as usual, avoids Seunghoon and his pettiness and sticks to Seungyoon, who beams with him and is delighted to discover that he is behind the hot-line website – that he never heard off.

“You are wonderful for doing so, always willing to aid others!” he says, admiringly. And he looks so innocent and sincere that Jinwoo crosses his name immediately from the list of suspects. Seungyoon is too good to be playing with Jinwoo – the hyung he adores the most, always clinging to him, always trying his best to gain his love and attention.

“It’s nothing,” Jinwoo brushes it off because it’s the truth – because, so far, he has provided help to three people in two months. “How is Jiho?” he changes the subject.

Jiho is Seungyoon’s boyfriend – and evil twin, they look so alike it is creepy to see them together, - and a constant source of problems – he lives stressed out, always juggling with too many assignments and working on music and loving Seungyoon right. Jinwoo likes him, would like him better if he would show up, but he is constantly busying himself with new things, so it’s really hard to meet up with him.

“Jiho is good. I’ll let him know about the page, though, he might need it; has been struggling with stress and worries for a while,” he smiles, sadly and Jinwoo promises him to try his very best and scratches out Jiho’s name as well.

That leaves him with only one suspect, but catching Seunghoon red-hand will be complicated.

Minho texts him again, thanking him for his time and wonders if there is something else he could do because he has tried but his love interest hasn’t even bait an eye – to put it simply, he has failed miserably.

Jinwoo tries to rewind the past few days but notices nothing strange. Nobody has come to talk to him or act differently around him. And, definitively, Minho hasn’t shown up with flowers or a plan for the weekend, so, no, this is a joke – he hasn’t seen Minho in a while and, when he has managed to steal a glance over him, he was acting like always, as if Jinwoo was a ghost: non-existent.

~ Are you sure you tried your best? If you really tried something he must have seen it. What have you done so far? ~

He waits for a reply that comes back in no time. He smirks because, from the other room, he can hear Seunghoon tattling and crack up.

Jinwoo sneaks to Seunghoon’s bedroom and opens the door soundlessly. Seunghoon looks taken aback, the phone on his hand, his face surprised, half a grin stretching on his lips, half a scowl looking at Jinwoo coming in.

“I knew it was you!” Jinwoo points at him, triumphantly, snatching the phone from his grip.

He has been messaging, indeed, with Kang Younghyun. Jinwoo flusters while reading, every text getting his face redder and redder. “Oh, good Lord let me delete all of this from my brain!” he pouts, throwing the phone as if burning. He rubs his eyes viciously, shakes his head vigorously, trying to get rid of the very image of his friend snuggling with Younghyun, both . He shivers, the picture is awful.

“It serves you right, for stalking others’ conversations!” he says, laughing, watching Jinwoo running away. “And we have been dating for a month, but you pay so little attention you haven’t even noticed!” he exclaims, indignant. “You should stop calling yourself my best friend!”

Maybe Seunghoon is right and he has been distracted lately – thinking about Minho, - but, how could he ever imagine? Seunghoon and Younghyun are very close and it’s normal to find the youngest at the dorms, playing or studying, there is nothing odd in that. Has Younghyun stayed over and he hasn’t even registered it? Has he been this dense, too caught up with his own worries? Maybe he should try to pay more attention to his friends – he has been too busy trying to discover who is behind Minho’s messages, studying and helping Jiho, who has been dealing with burdensome thoughts about not being good enough that has had no time to spear with Seunghoon.

~ I got him coffee with a note with my name but he hasn’t replied or mentioned it to any of our common friends. I tried to be around him, but he is always reading or not paying attention, focused on his phone . I send him a letter, once , but, again, nothing happened. I’m running out of ideas. ~

That’s what said Minho’s new message. But what is he saying? Jinwoo hasn’t gotten any coffee. Well, there was one cup on his usual seat but a girl was already there, looking at it with surprise – so Jinwoo assumed it was hers. And Minho hasn’t been around, that, he would have noticed because his eyes are solely on him. And he opens the mailbox every day and he hasn’t received even a single bill.

~ Maybe he didn’t see it. Try a more direct approach! ~

Jinwoo encourages him. Maybe, he thinks, if the person acts again, doing something less confusing, something that Jinwoo can identify, he can catch the culprit – but he is sure it’s Seunghoon, has to be him, that’s the only way.

Again, nothing happens.

Someone dedicates a song through the college radio show to a Kim Jinwoo but, how many people are on campus with that same name? And everybody knows that Jinwoo’s favourite song is “Crooked” by G-Dragon, not Aurora, by an unknown singer, so he enjoys the song and forgets about it after the last note gets off from the air. He smiles and hopes that the person this has been ordained has liked it – it is so romantic after all: Jinwoo loves this kind of grand, thoughtful gestures.

There are buckets of flowers on his chair sometimes: blue roses, sunflowers, daisies, but as pretty as they are, they are never meant for Jinwoo – someone else took them before him and perhaps the sender has gotten the seat wrong. Besides, the meaning behind the flowers doesn’t match with Jinwoo – he is not a miracle, not a ball of sunshine, not innocent and kind. He shrugs it off and seats somewhere else, listening to his teacher instead of wasting his time sinking into what could it be, if the flowers were, indeed, for him.

Thanks to Jiho, who has spilt the beans, the hot-line website is getting on track and Jinwoo is becoming busier, answering the best he can to all the inquiries he is getting. And he is enjoying it, even when it is time-consuming and he is more tired lately – he is doing what he likes and putting into good serve all that he has been learning, so he brushes off his sleepless face and keeps going on, always doing his best.

“Jinwoo hyung looks content!” Seungyoon notes. They have had lunch together and Jinwoo has just gone to class. “He is so happy helping others,” he smiles at Seunghoon, who nods.

“But he can’t help himself,” he says, shaking his blond hair.

“What do you mean?” Seungyoon asks, perplexed. Jinwoo is the type who always gives and never asks for anything in return.

“Minho,” Seunghoon sighs the name and Seungyoon looks at him in surprise. “I told him to ask for tips in the hot-line but the stupid Jinwoo thinks it’s me pretending,” he says, indignant, frowning. He has come up with this idea as soon as Minho asked him for help: it was brilliant and it should have worked out if only Jinwoo wasn’t so insecure and stopped suspecting his friend.

“What did you say, hyung?” Seunghoon looks up just to find Minho standing in front of him, eyes round and shocked. “I’ve been talking with Jinwoo all this time? He is the one behind the website?” he wonders and Seunghoon can only nod because all his plan has crumbled down.

Minho is elated. All the tips he has received have come from Jinwoo himself, he has been chatting with him from the start – has done all that he suggested, though nothing worked out as he wanted. But Jinwoo has the wrong idea – he thinks that it’s Seunghoon teasing him, that it’s impossible that Minho could be the least interested in him.

He is decided, he will prove Jinwoo wrong, he will do what he must to confront him, show him his own value – that he is the most incredible person in the world, that he deserves to be loved and that Minho loves him the most.

He begins to text him on the daily. He explains to him about his day, what he has done, his thoughts, his feelings, what he likes, pieces about his past, talks about his dreams and expectations and he firmly believe that this way, Jinwoo will stop assuming because no-one can come up with so many plausible stuff about his life – not even Seunghoon who knows him well enough.

Jinwoo listens to him and replies to every message with kind words and always shows him support when Minho mentions his exams or his exhibitions, and, sometimes, he even opens up and tells him about his whereabouts. It is nice – it is like having a conversation, as if becoming friends and it’s the closest he has ever been to Jinwoo, despite all he has tried before to be near him. It feels warm to undercover new aspects of Jinwoo, to get to know him deeper, falling in more every passing day, with every new message he gets – Jinwoo is thoughtful and sincere, unbelievably kind with a shade of oddity, a heart that beats like balsam to Minho.

Minho remembers how he befriended Seunghoon because he was Jinwoo’s room-mate, how he clicked with Jiho because he was Jinwoo’s best friend’s boyfriend – how it lead to nowhere because Jiho knows nothing about Jinwoo and Seunghoon is a whole teaser that always jokes but provides nothing useful but he keeps them for the fun and because Jiho helps him with his music and Seunghoon is a source of rumours and gossips and the best cook he knows. How he sneaked into Jinwoo’s classes to see him from afar, listening to Jinwoo’s teachers ramble about Freud and Otto Rank and post-traumatic stress disorder he can’t understand or grasp, how he left flowers on his desk or doodles of his face in sticky notes during breaks when he was out to the toilet or to get another cup of coffee, how he has always orbited around him, skirting, not ready to be seen but gravitating towards Jinwoo inevitably.

He likes this situation, he feels like soak into Jinwoo – and there are so much he isn’t aware of, how much Jinwoo struggles to be better, how hard-working and diligent he is with his studies, how involved he is with helping others and the hot-line website, or that his favourite artist is G-Dragon (but that he has heard a song titled Aurora once and now it’s stuck on his head).

Minho giggles, enamoured. He has written it for Jinwoo after all and, even if he isn’t aware of its meaning, he likes it nevertheless and Minho promises himself to sing it to Jinwoo if he ever gets to date him – and, next time, he will make sure to be very specific to whom he is dedicating it. And the flower it happens that Jinwoo is too kind to think they were meant for him – instead, he always handed them to the girl next seat. And the letters… Well, that was his fault for sending it to Kim Jinhwan by mistake. No wonders he never reacted to it – it never reached him.

And so, he tries harder.

No, he is an imposter, he knows – Minho has better things to do and he is constantly surrounded by far more pretty and interesting people than Jinwoo, but he gets chocolates with a note with his name and he can’t pretend it’s an error. And he can’t deny that there is a letter waiting for him at home – an envelope with three pages praising him, confessing an unwavering love, signed by Song Minho that makes Jinwoo tear up.

Or the ten coffees that Minho has left paid for him to enjoy on the campus’ canteen. Or the quotes and poems that appear scribbled on his notebooks with the characteristic hand-writing that belongs to Minho.

“I’ve told you it was from him!” Seunghoon is exasperated when Jinwoo shows him yet another prove about Minho’s feelings. He has been trying to convince Jinwoo that it is all true, that Minho is the one behind everything – that he has nothing to do with it. But Jinwoo is stubborn thinking that Minho doesn’t know who he is. Seunghoon smacks him. “Jinwoo, listen to me. You are wonderful and beautiful. You have been wasting your time despite being busy with finals helping others. You are always getting out of your way to aid every lost kid, for God’s sake. Minho would be a fool not to love you. And he does, believe me, because I know”.

“Why do you know?” Jinwoo asks, baffled, looking at him bewildering.

“I know that you are dim but I’ve been friend with Minho for years now! I can’t believe this, hyung,” Seunghoon says, hands on his face, exacerbate.

“So you are a friend with him and never told me?” Jinwoo exclaims, in awe. “Oh, God!” And with every passing second, he becomes more and more flustered, fuddle.

“You look like a cute tomato,” Seunghoon sighs, half grinning, amused by the sight, “and that’s probably why I never told you, to save you to be gawkier. You would have died if Minho ever appeared home with me,” and Seunghoon has a valid point. “Now, put an end to your misery and date him. You are both in love,” he adds, rubbing Jinwoo’s hair with affection – after all, he is his best friend and he has done it all to get them together. Now, his work is done and it’s up to them to settle down the situation.

Jinwoo has gone out to let his thought dry out. He has been drinking with Seungyoon and, so far, he has been unable to forget his conversation with Seunghoon – when the truth laid unfold for him to examine. It’s been a week and he can’t move out, stuck in the same place, thinking about what to do next – if there is a next for him because whenever he reasons about doing something he dies of embarrassment, convinced that it’s all the wrong end f the stick. He has a pile of Minho’s text he hasn’t had the courage to reply – message that has put colour on his cheeks, warming his heart-beats.

It’s past 3 am and Jinwoo’s head is spinning in the right way. He has finished his tests, is done with the semester and now it’s time to celebrate and be free. He picks up his phone and types to Minho.

~ Kiss him. ~

He feels bold and rebellious and drunk. He will regret it in the morning but the night is young and he wants to enjoy another round of alcohol to sink any remorse with.

He stops drinking at 5 am and drags Seungyoon home to Jiho. Unlike Jinwoo, Seungyoon can’t handle his drinks well enough and the poor thing will have a terrible head-ache later on. Jinwoo is OK, light-head and fizzy, but walking straight, thinking with clarity – mortified for what he has messaged, the words engraved on his mind with fire.

Minho, in the flesh, is waiting for him in front of his apartment. And when Jinwoo is near enough, he holds him, his hands on his waist, his lips tasting the alcohol from him, kissing him.

“What are you doing?” Jinwoo protests when Minho lets him go, rose-coloured and gasping for air.

“What you told me to do,” he smirks, dimples showing. “It has always been me behind the messages, though I didn’t know it was you until recently,” he explains, his hand reaching for Jinwoo’s and he lets his fingers to interlock.

“You are only teasing me,” he mumbles, not giving up, not surrendering to the truth. This is all a bet and he won’t let Seunghoon win. He will fight against any reasonable explanation with arguments that sounds vacuum even to him under clouds of orange and purple.

“How could I? I really, really, like you, Jinwoo,” he says, pressing his lips against the palm of his hand, tenderly, reverently. “Look, Seunghoon told me to ask for help in the hot-line website because I was probably being an annoyance to him, always asking him about you, without knowing you were the administrator of it. I only realized it recently because I’ve over-heard Seunghoon talking with Seungyoon.” And Jinwoo knows it already, his friend has told him. “I was so happy talking to you… Though I wanted to do it properly, face to face. You are so handsome, you lit up the night and the universe, you know,” he says, looking at his eyes, a thumb tenderly dancing on his warm cheeks, brushing his skin.

“So, is it all real? It’s not a gamble I’m going to lose because I like you, too?” he wonders, his eyes filled with the colour of the sky. Minho nods, a hand cupping his face, his lips an inch away.

“It is absolutely real,” he mumbles and his mouth drags Jinwoo’s lazily, tasting soju and fireworks and all the words that Jinwoo wants to say, all the excuses he wants to make only to avoid the truth – and he closes his eyes and empties his mind of any thought that isn’t Minho.

“So you are finally together!” Seunghoon cheers, looking at them holding hands. Younghyun, sitting beside him, smiles at the sight and congratulates Seunghoon for a work well done. “It’s all thanks to me!” he says, insufferable – they have arranged a double date and this is the fourth time in less than half an hour that he has mentioned it.

“Yes, thank you very much, Lee Seunghoon,” Jinwoo says for the nth time this week. It’s been a long one, enduring Seunghoon’s smugly expression – far worse than finals’ week, no doubt about it. Seunghoon has been impossible, intolerable, a constant bother.

“If it weren’t for me, Younghyun, this two would still be skirting around each other,” he says proudly, stealing a quick kiss from his boyfriend as a reward. Jinwoo wants to disappear, the Earth to swallow him alive if he has to heard Seunghoon again, repeating his master-plan for the hundredth time.

“I think I will rather be single than having to suffer Seunghoon,” Jinwoo pouts on his way home, Minho walking by his side, hands pressing against his hips, holding him tight.

“Is that bad?” he wonders, pulling him closer, kissing his forehead and Jinwoo smiles in between his arms.

“Maybe if you lived with him you would know how unbearable he is,” Jinwoo sighs, tiredly, relaying on Minho’s chest for a moment, heaving.

“I would love to move in with you, you know” Minho suggests, beaming at the idea.

“No, I’m the one moving out of the dorms,” Jinwoo smirks, stealing the keys from Minho’s pocket. “I’m not suffering Seunghoon ever again!” and he runs away, Minho behind, chasing after him, giggling.

“Do you want to switch places with Jihoon?” he asks, catching him, pulling him into his embrace. Jinwoo looks up to his eyes, smiling sweetly, “I think he would get along with Seunghoon,” he adds, smirking, kissing gently the little freckle on Jinwoo’s eyelid.

“Hold on, hold on, we have been dating for a week, isn’t it going a bit too fast?” Jinwoo is bemused, startled. Minho’s hands dance on his side, slowly, assuringly, securing him with his feelings. “I’ll consider it if Seunghoon keeps being a bother,” he sighs, much to Minho’s delight.

“Hyung, I know what you mean and I agree with it,” Minho says, sitting on a bench, “we were both joking but, right now, I feel that I want to spend eternity with you,” and it sounds so promising, Jinwoo longs for it to be true.

“I do, too,” he mumbles, cheeks a lovely shade of rose, “maybe when I finish college you can move in with me,” he suggests. It is a few months away so they can define their relationship on the meanwhile, see where it is going if it worth it a try. Minho nods, enthusiastically, beaming at Jinwoo’s words.

“I would like to be always behind you, supporting you, cheering you, loving you,” he whispers, Jinwoo tugged between his legs, his hands brushing his shoulders, bending so his chin can rest on the top of his silky hair.

“Talking about that, Kim Jinhwan asked me if I knew who was behind a letter he received. Do you happen to know something?” and he chuckles, “it was good you sent it to the wrong person, I’ve read it and I would have panicked”, he confesses, hands covering his face, his mind ashamed. Minho smiles at the sunset, reminding all the things he did to get to Jinwoo and how good it feels to have him tugged between his arms, his lips touching, their cores beating at the same pace. And he would have done more, anything, just to have a chance to be graced by Jinwoo’s presence – and he will fight to preserve it, to keep him close, to keep his love afloat, living, thriving.

“Your visual is radiant, the closer you get, the more lucid you become. You are more brilliant inside than you are outside. You’re like an aurora in the sky, an aurora in the sky I want to see you every day. You shine bright, you are my aurora,” he hums, his legs moving, in step with the floating melody and the thumbs of Jinwoo’s heart, and Jinwoo singsongs alongside, rambling lyrics that he doesn’t know but that matches Minho’s. “I wrote this song for you,” he says, “one day I’ll sing for your eyes only,” he vows to him and Jinwoo wants to cry because Minho has been behind all the precious things he never thought were meant for him – but they were all.