[3/6]
If I Could Spend A Year With You
v.
Life was tough, Kikwang decided. He sighed as he blinked at the
window, gaze dull and blank as he stared unseeingly at the dew covered
streets. April melted into May and he was yet to figure out how to solve
his problems.
Starting a self-made business was never easy and Kikwang had spent
the last few good years of his life slaving away in an office, mind flooded
and heart weak as he struggled with employees, debts and salaries. He had
no business, no work. He was in debt for millions and he had no orders, no
shipping, nothing. His family and friends knew nothing. He had thousands of
dollars worth of expenses for every day and his doctor had declared him terminally
ill with a bad heart and disease of the respiratory tract.
Kikwang sighed shakily, fingers quivering as he pulled out a cigarette from his
pocket and lit it, bringing the folded paper to his lips before taking in a deep breath.
He smiled bitterly as he gazed at the cars rushing past, neon lights flickering in
the evening sun as Seoul lit up for the night. Everyone seemed to be so happy,
he thought, heart clenching painfully. He tapped the cigarette against the ash tray;
once, twice. He picked it up and stared at it for a while, tongue sliding out to run
over his lips dryly, before he pressed the cigarette to the tray, extinguishing the
flame in a trail of dust and dry ashes.
His mind went numb and his body followed suit, fingers heavily dragging across
the table as he glanced up at the menu. His stomach lurched and he closed his
eyes wearily. He hadn’t eaten in a couple of days. He didn’t know if it was because
he was afraid of losing the money or because he had no appetite anymore. If and
when he ate, it was only to fill the gaps during his days in a dull routine.
He swallowed dryly as bile pushed up his throat and he shook his head, eyes
fluttering open as he resumed watching Seoul come to life under the dim lights of
the small restaurant.
Small drops of rain began a steady descent from the skies, hitting the cool glass
of the window in a rhythmic beat, one which seemed to relax Kikwang and at the
same time unnerve him. Funny how rain could find a balance in the way it worked and
yet he, a man who struggled so hard, was falling deeper and deeper into nothingness.
He blinked as he pulled out a pen from his pocket and shakily grabbed a tissue from
the napkin holder before pressing it flat against the cool surface of the table.
‘Please, give me strength.’
vii.
Slender hands shook as Yoseob sighed and smiled faintly, eyes dull and lifeless.
He’d expected as much and a clinical report only confirmed his assumptions.
Cancer of the brain, he’d been told. Terminal illness.
He chuckled quietly as Kikwang stared at him in shocked disbelief, denial etched
onto his boyish features as he shook and quivered and held back a sob.
No words were exchanged. No, ‘It’ll be fine’s; no, ‘We’ll get through this together’s; no, ‘
You’ll make it’s, because they both knew those were all lies. It was only a matter of time
before their days together came to an abrupt end and reality had never seemed more
cruel as Yoseob smiled brightly and tackled Kikwang into a bone crushing hug,
dissolving into a fit of giggles as he pressed hushed kisses to the younger’s face
and neck and shoulders.
He was all bright, broken smiles and shiningpainfulcrystalline tears as he laughed
and settled himself onto Kikwang’s lap, the latter still silent as he dazedly held
Yoseob by the waist. It took a while, but Kikwang finally seemed to relax into a
faint smile, heart racing and eyes stinging as tears threatened to spill forth from
his dark eyes. He told himself to stay strong, to put on a brave face, to not let the
other see how hard his world had just crashed before his eyes and the pain showed
on his features and Yoseob only smiled softly, cupping the younger’s face in his
hands as he pressed their foreheads together.
“It’s okay if you want to cry,” he whispered, voice quivering in the still air of the small
room as Kikwang sunk deeper into the soft couch, hands shaking and heart
catching in his throat as he lurched forward and broke into a heavy sob, hot tears
spilling past thick lashes as he buried his face in the elder’s neck.
And Yoseob laughed quietly, a dull, broken sort of laugh that made Kikwang want
to cry more than he already was as he curled his fingers into the former’s thin T-shirt,
breath hitching as a particularly loud sob escaped his cracked lips. There was a short
pause and a whimper and Kikwang collapsed heavily against Yoseob, weary and
depressed as his mind buzzed and his ears roared, hot tears glazing over his eyes,
threatening to render him sightless for an eternity.
They stayed a while, wrapped up in each other as they rocked back and forth,
hushed words slipping past barely moving lips and bright tears clinging to dark lashes.
It was many months later when things began to fall back into a routine once more
and Kikwang had to remind himself that things had changed, that he would soon be
waking up to an empty bed, that his life was painfully coming to a stop as time sped
up and slowed down in playful mockery.
June arrived and Yoseob lazily draped himself on the couch, clothes much too big
for him as they hung on his thin frame.
He laughed as Kikwang slid into the room, dressed in a suit, tie haphazardly knotted
around his neck. An amused smile played at the corners of his lips as he watched the
younger wriggle his eyebrows and stride up to him, all suave and classy with a hint of
fail and humour. Kikwang reached out a hand and smiled brightly as Yoseob slid a
soft hand into his, before gently helping him off the couch and pulling him close.
He helped the smaller boy onto his feet as he wrapped an arm around his waist and
chuckled quietly, pulling him to the middle of the living room as Yoseob giggled and
weakly allowed himself to be moved along.
He blinked in surprise as Kikwang dimmed the lights and moved to pull out an old
record player from the cabinet, earning a loud laugh from the elder as Frank Sinatra
swindled through the air. The music was familiar to both of them as they stepped close
once more and laced their hands together, bodies moving in rehearsed synchronization
as they relaxed against each other and fell into a slow dance, hand in hand, chest to
chest and forehead against forehead.
Yoseob couldn’t hold back the tears which made his eyes shine and light up in pained
happiness as he bit his lower lip and leaned into Kikwang’s warmer body. Quiet whispers
and hushed secrets spilled from the younger’s full lips as they pressed against the elder’s
eyes, his head, his cheeks, and his jaw before stopping at his lips. They kissed slowly,
softly, firmly; every emotion they had trying to be conveyed through their touches, their
words and their actions as they stumbled back onto the couch, a tangle of long limbs and
rustling clothes and soft, messy tears.
“Marry me,” Kikwang whispered, burying his face into the other’s neck as he inhaled deeply,
eyes fluttering shut.
Yoseob laughed, shrill and upset and happy and sad and ecstatic all at once as he held
back a sob and clung to the younger in desperation, lips quivering and skin warm and
eyes clouded with moisture as he shook his head and nodded and whimpered. Thin,
pale fingers raked through soft hair as Yoseob caressed Kikwang’s head shakily, heart
racing and hurting and pounding and suffocating him as Kikwang pulled back to press
their lips together once more, sighing as he fumbled with his pocket and pulled out a ring,
before sliding it onto the elder’s finger.
Pulling away, he smiled softly, bitterly, happily; they held each other’s gaze for a while,
momentarily forgetting all their problems as they laughed quietly, cheeks wet and eyes bright.
They’d found a way to be happy at a time when it seemed that all was lost.
A/N: :| I'm late with an update for Railways, but chapter two will definitely be up by the end of this week! Thank you for all the comments and subscribes~ =w=
Comments