sequel to previous <3

As a professional artist, Yongguk had come to terms with the realization that there was always a wall. There was a wall to every art piece, something that prevented it from coming to being. He had to overcome each wall, to be able to create the piece he needed to.

But there was one wall he still wasn't able to overcome.

Because he didn't know what it was.

Why couldn't he draw Jongup? The two ensured their communication was kept, with Jongup coming down on the weekends to spend the nights at the elder's home, and Yongguk visiting him on his off-days. But no matter what, something prevented him from creating an art piece that captured the boy's beauty. What was it about that boy that was so impossible to capture?

Just like now, when Jongup was down for the weekend, in the kitchen, spinning around, waiting for the dessert in the oven to be done. Yongguk was watching, smiling and sketching the boy again. He got the basic sketch down, and began on the details. With a ding of the oven, Jongup was walking back with a pan of cookies and two glasses of milk. He set it on the table, attempting to lean over slyly to see the drawing, but Yongguk was quick to press it against his chest.

"What're you drawing this time, hyung?" Jongup asked, and Yongguk shrugged.

"Just a sketch." Yongguk mumbled.

"Is there a wall to this one?" Jongup asked, stuffing his mouth with a cookie.

"There always is." Yongguk chuckled, eating a cookie.

That night, Jongup fell asleep on the elder's bed, one of the many stuffed creatures in the younger's arms. The others surrounded his head, occasionally falling and making him roll around. Yongguk had it this time. The sketch was perfect, his features perfect, his relaxed expression captured. The wall was gone, and he was drawing Jongup successfully for the first time. But he didn't grow cocky, he stayed cautious, every swish of his pencil filled with pure concentration and accuracy.

How did he overcome the wall?

He admitted something to himself that he was fighting internally the whole time he'd known the boy. He admitted that he thought of him more than a roommate. He was more than a friend. More than a teen. More than Jongup. He was the one thing he treasured most in life. The one piece of art with no flaws, a perfect piece, worth all the money in the world.

He was in love with Jongup.

He'd never felt at peace unless he was with art, but with Jongup, he felt more than peace.

He felt like there was no wall to his goals. There was no wall holding him back.

He was on top of the world with that boy.

The longer he stared at the sleeping teen, the warmer he felt, the better he felt. The more curves his pencil made, the more he realized, he was an artist. If he could draw Jongup, then he could draw anything. If he could replicate perfection, then there were no walls to his art.

He'd conquered them all.

Jongup woke, smiling when he found his hyung right next to him, one arm slung around him, the other pressing his sketchbook to his chest. Jongup dared to move, pulling the sketchbook slowly and taking a peak. He gasped, seeing himself, drawn perfectly on the paper. He was sleeping soundly, hair sprawled on the pillow, lips slightly parted, blankets ruffled. It was perfect, Jongup noted, as if looking in a mirror.

"You did it, hyung." Jongup whispered smiling. "You finally did it."

"I did." Yongguk mumbled, waking slowly.

"How'd you overcome the wall?" Jongup asked.

Yongguk just smiled, dusting a strand of hair of of the thin eyes. "With every artwork, I have to define what that object means to me before I drew it." He whispered. "I hadn't established that with you until now."

"What do I mean to you?" Jongup asked with a giggle.

"Everything." Yongguk whispered, chuckling. "You mean everything to me."

Jongup blushed, leaning in the crook of the elder's neck. He blushed harder, knowing what he meant. "I-I love you, too, hyung." He whispered, smiling when he felt soft lips on his temple.

THE END.