Because All Stories Have A Prologue: Our secret

An almost straight long line that curved slightly at the end formed, what he believed, a perfect nose. Underneath it, not too thick yet not too slim, two lips that had always held a natural pink colour. From day one their balanced proportions had called his attention. Not to mention the never-ending eyelashes that combined with the gentle eyebrows, created the most accurate frame to those deep orbs. Same orbs that were now looking at his own. So penetrating.

“Stop staring. Even if you do that I won’t let you play.”

A crooked grimace was drawn in the observed mouth before the dark eyes went back to the iPad where a pretty innocent, if not stupid, game was being displayed. SungYeol huffed. Too much effort to gain only a few seconds of attention.

“Who the heck would want to play Where’s My Water?” He muttered.

Not seeing it coming, an elbow went directly to his ribs.

“Yah!” As usual, his voice went loud and in reflex his long leg went directly to his aggressor’s hips. Physics did it’s thing. The iPad instantly flying as SungYeol’s victim’s hands grabbed whatever they could to escape from the laws of gravity. SungYeol’s white cotton shirt and the twisted bed sheet were the saviours.

“Yah, do you want to kill me? We’re not in my bed!” MyungSoo said loudly, his eyes wide for he had been close to fall from the top bunk bed. SungYeol’s kick had been a strong one. No surprise, the older male didn’t know how to control his strength.

Instead of looking worried, SungYeol gave him a sheepish smile. He didn’t feel that bad, finally MyungSoo was giving him some of his attention. His little mistake had been worth it.

“That’s what you get for invading my bed.”

“Well, it’s close to the air conditioner,” MyungSoo shrugged as he turned over - chest down - annoying the older male.

Another kick went flying to his direction, this time aimed to his legs. With that simple gesture, and before they could control their immature side, both started to kick each other. Soon hands, pillows, and strength were involved in their wrestling. Between the mess, SungYeol couldn’t stop from laughing at how helpless MyungSoo seemed under his grip. The perks of having long limbs.

“Let go, let go!” MyungSoo voiced between laughs and groans, one hand pushing the older one’s face while the other hand was trapped between their knot of extremities and bed sheets.  

“Know I’m being nice letting you be here,” SungYeol grinned before a mischievous thought came to his mind. Without a second thought, he bite the younger’s fingers. Strongly.

Another - yet louder - scream blurted from MyungSoo’s mouth and once again the wrestling between the two friends started.

Although they were already settled in their mid-twenties, and even if they had an image to take care of, whenever they were hidden, protected, between four walls and free from the eyes of outsiders, SungYeol and MyungSoo would always find a moment to play around. To amuse themselves. To be simple friends. If it wasn’t MyungSoo provoking the older with light but constant contact, it was SungYeol saying something that made the younger’s personal world burst into pieces as laugh sparkled from his mouth leaving no space to his 4Dness. Those moments when they forgot who they represented and remembered who they were.

“Screw you, now I’m hot,” MyungSoo faintly groaned, letting his hand fall on SungYeol’s moving chest, who was resting his head on the cool wall. There was no strength left to actually punch the older.

Both band members were breathing hard and SungYeol was sure his cheeks, like the visual’s, were brightly pink from all that unwanted exercise. Between the tangled pale bed sheets, the younger male’s hair popped out. It was a dark fluffy mess. SungYeol’s hands itched to comb it. Touch it. Not to pull it like he had done moments before. He wanted to be conscious of how soft it was.  

While he was trying to catch his breath and control his desire, his eyes went once again to the task of examinate the façade that guarded the enigmatic creature, Kim MyungSoo. Now that he paid closer attention, there was an angry red mark near the younger male’s left eyebrow.

SungYeol snickered. “I scratched your forehead.”

“I’m gonna sue you,” the younger’s voice wasn’t even threatening, still he looked up to find SungYeol’s face since MyungSoo wasn’t planning on moving from his position. An unamused expression met the sharp glare.

Their eye contact didn’t break until SungYeol’s long fingers went to reach the colorful mark. Just like he thought, the skin was soft and warm. Those delphian eyes closed at the light touch near them, but soon they opened. Unlike before, a tranquil veil covered them.  

Apart from their playful moments, there were those moments when the set of friends said nothing to each other. Those moments when they had no need to talk.  Those  occasions when their eyes met and they knew exactly what the other wanted. Those years spent together had paid them well, to the point where SungYeol managed to understand how MyungSoo’s thoughts worked. And MyungSoo too, he had learned how the mischievous mind of the older reacted.  They might not have telepathy or those weird things people believed in, but they were pretty sure, whatever they said - silently or out loud, the other was going to understand it right away.

“Today’s really hot,” MyungSoo pursed slightly his lips.

“Summer’s always hot,” SungYeol didn’t know if he said it or just thought it. His concentration was completely focused on his left hand that was now tracing the rebel locks of hair from the younger male. His hair was soft.

The memories of combing SungJong’s hair came abruptly to SungYeol. He remembered those times when he had fixed the maknae’s hair because they were about to appear in front of an audience or simply because they were at a reachable distance and he had nothing better to do. But unlike MyungSoo, the youngest member would most likely push him after some moments. MyungSoo never. SungJong’s hair brought peace to him. MyungSoo’s didn’t. MyungSoo’s hair brought him his teasing side, his brute side, his delicate side, the uncomfortable and painful side.

Even if he wanted to stop it he couldn’t. SungYeol had noticed. He had caught himself  looking a bit longer than necessary at the group’s visual. He had noticed himself reaching for the younger’s clothes in their shared closet. He had noticed the way his skin reacted whenever MyungSoo was near. How his stomach curled when he heard the other’s irregular voice or explosive laugh - laugh that only SungYeol was capable of create.  He had paid close attention to how he had slowly, but surely, fallen for his bandmate.

“We should get some ice cream,” MyungSoo said, picking his almost-forgotten game.

SungYeol had always wondered - he never stopped wondering when it came to the younger idol - if MyungSoo felt the same. Because, why didn’t he react like SungJong or even WooHyun? Yes, they were different people, but his attitude toward the same actions was a complete opposite. While the others pushed, he pulled. MyungSoo looked for them. MyungSoo created those moments. Not SungYeol. He didn’t go in search for the other, he had his dignity and respect. He had his fears. Was this the correct way close friends acted?  Because sometimes SungYeol felt he was giving in to his feelings. Maybe, just maybe, this was the natural way feelings evolved. From friendship, their unique and awkward one, something else could bloom.

To think about it? SungYeol had done it thousands of times. He had lost nights and dance steps while at it. He had lost appetite and good laughs because of it.  

Whether MyungSoo felt it or not, whether it was the right path or a u-turn, SungYeol had decided  - two nights ago - that he had to let the younger idol know. MyungSoo was the cause of his distress, he was his closest friend. He was Kim MyungSoo.

It might not make sense for people, but SungYeol had no intention to explain it to anyone but MyungSoo. The thing was, how?  What could he say to let the other know? Words?

Something nudged him softly in his side breaking him from his deep thoughts. The younger man had used his shoulder to call his attention, locking once again their gazes. The only sound came from the air conditioner and the water game displayed on the iPad. Their breathing was now settled.

What’re you thinking about? He didn’t have to ask for SungYeol to know the question.

He could’ve answered. He could’ve given him a stupid smile before snatching the apparatus just to bother the younger, but he didn’t. He kept his thoughtful expression, giving away nothing. MyungSoo, who had expected an answer, tilted his head to the side in the mattress. His dark locks messing more.

Just say it.

The sound from the video game ceased. MyungSoo had locked his iPad. His serene orbs never leaving SungYeol’s serious face. Slowly SungYeol opened his mouth yet no words came out from it. Which words should he say? His vocabulary had drained completely.   

Just say it.

SungYeol backed slightly when he noticed MyungSoo’s hand try to reach for his face. The contact didn’t happen, for he had finally said something.

“Will you go out with me?”

There. He said it. It was just a question, a rather vague one, but this was SungYeol talking to MyungSoo. Unlike other people’s believes, his question had been simple, yes, but direct. So direct MyungSoo’s eyes averted slightly. There was no way he didn’t. He had understood. The meaning behind that question. The reason for his slightly different attitude. What defined part of SungYeol. It felt so good to release those words, but the pregnant pause between them made his heart race rapidly. The older one didn’t notice he had started to abuse his lower lip.

The hand that had gotten frozen in mid-air fell slowly to the mattress before a soft smirk made it’s crooked way to the lips SungYeol had always wanted to touch.

“We should hurry if we want to find the convenience store opened,” MyungSoo sighed taking a seating position. “Let’s go, I want raspberry ice cream.”

The last line was said with such a delicate smile. It hurt. Deeply. The extra warmth that emanated from the younger idol’s body disappeared as MyungSoo jumped from SungYeol’s bed to fetch his wallet. As he walked to the door, the distance between them grew wider.

An abysm.

“You want vanilla, right?”

It might be the beginning of an unrequited love, or it might be the end of his unanswered feelings. Who cares? What only mattered was the pain growing uncontrollably in his chest. What mattered was what had just happened in their bedroom. That warmth night of summer. Whether SungYeol wanted it or not, MyungSoo had decided to not see.