Wonshik lies on his bed (he wants to say their, because it’s always occupied by two bodies nowadays) while the sun sets outside the window. The sunset is beautiful today, pink and yellow and orange mixing and spilling out all over the sky, but Wonshik is mostly uninterested. All he wants at this moment is for Hakyeon to stop whatever it is he’s doing in the next room and come to bed.

Love has always been too much for Wonshik to handle, and while he was watching Hakyeon from afar, it wasn’t as clear. When he didn’t have Hakyeon, couldn’t walk up to him and steal a kiss when no one else was around, the pain of unrequited love was excruciating, sure, but at least he was unaware of all the feelings that still haven’t been given a name.

Sometimes, when they lie in bed together, kissing for hours while the sky gradually gets darker outside, something inside Wonshik grows and grows until it feels like he’s about to choke, and no matter what he does, no matter where he puts his hands, it is never enough. And even as Hakyeon pulls back, looks him straight in the eyes and treads his fingers through Wonshik’s hair, Wonshik can feel himself trembling, because he doesn’t know what to do.

And sometimes, after Hakyeon has gone to sleep, Wonshik stays awake, his arm around the other man’s waist, hearing, feeling and adoring the soft breathing as Hakyeon disappears into dreamland. He tries to keep his grip on Hakyeon’s hip from becoming too tight, tries to keep his nails from piercing the delicate skin, but the feelings coursing through him are too intense, and sometimes he can’t do anything other than bury his face in Hakyeon’s neck and cry silently, not wanting to wake him. He lies there, wide awake, wiping his eyes on the pillowcase every now and again, and he wonders when these feelings will stop. When the feeling of Hakyeon’s lips against his will register in his brain, when the suffocating feeling of all this love that cannot be contained inside him will subside, and he can go back to his regular life, where his mind isn’t occupied by the other man for quite so many hours of the day.

But it never happens, and Wonshik is slowly losing the ability to breathe.

“What are you doing?” he calls, because the waiting is becoming too much.

Not a sound apart from Hakyeon’s voice is heard. “Nothing.”

Wonshik huffs. “So come to bed.”

“No,” Hakyeon calls back. “I’m doing something.”

Wonshik rolls over on his back, not even bothering to look confused. “You just said you were doing nothing.”

“It depends on your point of view,” Hakyeon replies. “Some people might say I’m wasting time, but it’s very important to me.”

Sighing, Wonshik runs his hands through his hair. “Well, whatever it is, can’t it wait?” He stares out the window, into the beautiful, gradually darkening sky, and his entire body aches.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“I told you, it’s important,” Hakyeon says, irritation obvious in his voice. “Go to sleep if you’re so tired, what do you need me there for?”

Wonshik knows from the way Hakyeon speaks that he’s being too clingy, but he feels like it would be difficult to survive if he wasn’t. “I want you here,” he replies softly. “It always feels better if you’re here.” Hakyeon merely snorts, and Wonshik thinks he probably thought it wouldn’t be audible from the next room. “Why can’t you come to bed?”

“I don’t want to sleep yet. It’s still early.”

Wonshik pushes his face into the pillow. “Lying down doesn’t equal sleeping.”

“I know that,” comes Hakyeon annoyed voice. “But it equals the beginning of the long process of going to sleep, and it’s still early, and I don’t think I’m ready for that. I’m not tired.”

Hakyeon is definitely being difficult just for the sake of being difficult, and Wonshik wonders for a moment if maybe there are clouds being formed in the other room. The thought fills him with curiosity, and suddenly he doesn’t feel so sleepy anymore either. “Hakyeon, please,” he calls, “come here.”

“No.” Obstinate and difficult and completely loveable.

“Why not?”

Hakyeon almost screams out his frustration. “Why? Because you’re there! Leave me alone!”

Wonshik laughs, because if this is a day like any other, it will end with Hakyeon crawling down next to him and kissing him just to make him shut up. Strange, how the roles have changed as the months have flown by and made a cold spring into a hot summer, as the snow has disappeared and taken Wonshik’s insecurities with it. “Alright,” he replies, “but only if you tell me what you’re really doing.”

“For God’s sake…” Hakyeon groans. “I’m watching the sunset, okay? Can you be quiet now?”

He tries to, for at least a whole second, but then Wonshik decides that sunsets are always more beautiful if you share them with somebody, so he jumps off the bed and makes his way towards the open door to living room. He leans in, sees Hakyeon standing with his back towards him over by the window, and says: “I’ll watch it with you, then.”

“No, no, no!” Hakyeon says, turning around to face him, and Wonshik stops. “Don’t come here. Go back to bed.”

Wonshik laughs again, though a lot more insecure this time. “Why?”

“I’m serious, Wonshik,” Hakyeon says, and his voice is full of warnings, full of fear, but most of all full of danger. “Go away. Leave.”

Starting to feel worried, Wonshik walks towards the other man again. “But I—“ he tires, but Hakyeon shakes his head.

“No, don’t!” he practically yells, and as Wonshik reaches him he inches towards the window. “Don’t touch me!”

His eyes are showing fear and some kind of war, and Wonshik stops in his steps again, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with fear. “You’re serious?”

Hakyeon rolls his eyes at him. “Gee, Wonshik, congratulations! What gave it away?”

Wonshik swallows. “What’s wrong?” He reaches out a hand towards Hakyeon, just to calm him down, but Hakyeon jerks his arm away.

“Don’t touch me!” he yells again.

“Hakyeon…” Wonshik mumbles. He closes the distance between them but lets his arms hang by his sides as he notices Hakyeon’s terrified gaze. “What is it?”

“Go away,” Hakyeon breathes. “I don’t want to see your face.”

Wonshik doesn’t laugh anymore, because everything he has loved about Hakyeon’s quirks has disappeared in less than thirty seconds. He remains where he’s standing, feeling the ground unraveling beneath his feet; the man he loves is afraid of him, and how can that be? What has Wonshik ever done to make Hakyeon afraid of him? His tongue feels numb as he tries to sort out what to ask to make sense of it all. He settles for “Why?”

“Do as I say,” Hakyeon hisses in reply. “Just leave.”

“Or what?” Wonshik pries as he feels the arrival of a new kind of hurt. “The ceiling will get cloudy again?”

The look Hakyeon gives him is enough to make it feel like tears aren’t far off. And maybe they aren’t, Wonshik thinks, because he currently can’t feel a single trickle of happiness inside him, and he doesn’t know if he’s ever been this scared. “You know I’m like this,” Hakyeon says, and his voice is calm but quivering with rage. “You know this is what I do, how I live, how I love. If you can’t deal with that, then walk away.” For the first time, Wonshik can hear the distant sound of Hakyeon’s thunder.

It awakens something inside of Wonshik, and though it should probably be more fear, it’s anger. Anger about the fact that Wonshik has never loved anyone else in his life, anger because of this groundless fear that Hakyeon seems to be having towards him, and anger because Wonshik has no idea how to make this okay again. “Hakyeon, please,” he says, reaching out to take the other man’s hand, “what is this—“

“Don’t!” Hakyeon shrieks, jerking his arm away again and leaning so far back that the window sill presses painfully into his back. Wonshik freezes. “You know who I am,” Hakyeon pants. “If you touch me, it’s going to hurt. Do you understand me?”

Wonshik just shrugs, because he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand. “I don’t care,” he says. “It’s worth it.”

“It’s on you now,” Hakyeon breathes. “I warned you. It’s going to hurt. It’s your choice, it’s on you now.” In his horrified, mumbling voice it sounds like chanting, like a spell, like something he says to keep himself calm rather than Wonshik.

“Always on me, huh?” Wonshik says. There are tears in Hakyeon’s eyes and that is enough to make fresh tears well up in his own. He gives him a last look; the way he’s straining himself to get away from Wonshik, the way his eyes are filled with tears out of fear from what Wonshik is going to do. And he shakes his head, looks down at the arms that are pressed against the wall, and he breaks. “You’re right. It is my choice.” And then he takes both of Hakyeon’s hands in his.

For a moment, everything is silent and all he sees is Hakyeon’s eyes close as tears pour through closed eyelids, and then it hits, the electricity, bolts of lightning shooting through Hakyeon’s hands into his own, circulating his body and leaving long, burning marks that seem to go all the way down into his soul, and his arms hurt, they ache and he can feel his very bones hurt until he forgets about everything else.

He doesn’t know if he screams. The pain is all he knows yet there’s space enough in his mind to register the feeling of thunder coursing through Hakyeon’s veins, the way it pulsates and burns in the other man’s heart at all times, like a growing cloud in the very back of his mind. He’s only half aware of Hakyeon’s fingers squeezing tighter around his hands to hold him in place, and the volume of the hurt is turned up, his head is filled with shock after shock after shock and then he falls to his knees, so close to the edge of unconsciousness that the world behind his closed eyelids seems to darken.

Hakyeon lets go. He’s on his knees too, and Wonshik leans on him, his head on Hakyeon’s shoulder. Wonshik can’t feel his own breaths anymore, though he tries to fill his lungs up with air again, and he wonders if maybe he’s going to die like this, by Hakyeon’s hands, in Hakyeon’s hands. But through the screaming, pulsating feeling his wrists, the world starts to come back. He feels Hakyeon straining to keep both of their weights up, he feels the tears that are pouring from his eyes, wetting the material of Hakyeon’s shirt, and he feels the air flow through his hot, scorched throat.

And, of course, he hears the sound of Hakyeon’s hysterical tears. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “You’re going to leave me. I just know it.” Wonshik does his best to open his eyes, but even the dimmed light from the sunset outside feels too bright. “I can’t stop it,” Hakyeon pants. “I keep hurting you, and I can’t stop. You’re going to abandon me, and everything is going to hurt from now on. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Wonshik tries to hold his own weight up, and he’s not sure if he succeeds or if he’s still leaning on Hakyeon’s warm, trembling body. “I told you not to touch me,” Hakyeon cries. “I told you you’d get hurt, I’m bad for you, I should have told you from the start, I’m so sorry.”

“Hakyeon, be quiet,” Wonshik pants, his head firmly placed on Hakyeon’s shoulder and back. His breathing is starting to return to normal, but Hakyeon is crying so violently that he sounds like he’s about to choke. “Don’t cry,” he pleads. “Just don’t cry.”

But it’s a lost cause, and he knows that. Hakyeon is so far gone he doesn’t seem to take in what Wonshik is saying, if he’s at all aware that Wonshik is even there. “I’m sorry,” he chants, over and over, and Wonshik’s heart breaks in a way that is much more painful than any bolt of lightning.

He sits up, even though he doesn’t feel like he’s strong enough to hold his own head up. “Hakyeon, look at me,” he says, cupping Hakyeon’s cheeks with his aching hands. Hakyeon’s lips are pursed tightly and his entire body is convulsing, but Wonshik holds him still. “Hakyeon… open your eyes. Please.”

And Hakyeon eventually does what he’s told, sniffling and shaking, with tears still running down his cheeks in angry streams. His eyes are already red and tired, and Wonshik wonders if maybe he had lost consciousness for a bit, but it isn’t important. “Why did you do that?”

Hakyeon’s eyes close again, in shame this time, and he leans his head in Wonshik’s hand. “You’re… you’re going to leave me eventually,” he says, stopping for stutters and hiccups. “I just know it. And I want you to stay, but I wish you’d do it now, leave now, because it will only get harder the longer you wait.” And Wonshik realizes it then: no matter what Hakyeon feels, it is always intense, it is always overpowering and uncontrollable. Just like Wonshik, he can’t contain it all inside. “If it’s not thunder, it’s clouds or rain or snow and you will always have to deal with me, because I can’t stop,” Hakyeon continues, the tears collecting in Wonshik’s palm. “I’m bad for you, and you’re going to realize that.”

Wonshik lets him talk, lets it all fall out of Hakyeon’s mouth as if he isn’t truly aware of what he’s saying. But when Hakyeon repeats “I will hurt you” for the fourth time, he decides he’s heard enough. Finally he feels strong enough to sit up on his own, so he lets his hands fall to the floor (after making sure they won’t collide with Hakyeon’s, that is) and Hakyeon falls back, his back hitting the wall beneath the window. “You and your premonitions,” Wonshik says, trying on a smile.

Hakyeon stares at him through unstable eyes. “I was right last time,” he says, voice raspy and exhausted.

“Yes, but the last one was about yourself,” Wonshik says. “This one is about me. And apparently I haven’t made it clear enough for you.” He holds his aching wrists and Hakyeon eyes him in worry, and though Wonshik wants him to calm down, there’s no point in denying he got really hurt this time. “I don’t doubt that you’d have left yourself ages ago, given the chance,” he says. “But I’m not you. I’m not going to leave. Not now, not later.”

Hakyeon swipes his hand over his face in a futile attempt to wipe his tears away. “But I keep—“

“No, Hakyeon,” Wonshik interrupts. “You hurt me because you’re so scared of hurting me that you can’t keep it inside.”

Hakyeon gives an unhappy laugh. “Can’t you hear how pathetic that sounds? It doesn’t matter why it happens, I hurt you, and that’s wrong.”

Wonshik considers it. “Well, I can’t say I enjoy it much,” he says with a laugh. “But I know you, Hakyeon. This is only happening because you’re trying to push me away.” Hakyeon remains pressed against the wall, and Wonshik has to laugh again, at the situation, at everything. “Hell, I couldn’t leave you even if I wanted to,” he says. “And I don’t want to. I don’t want to live without you. Do you hear me?” Hakyeon looks are him carefully before nodding reluctantly. “So don’t push me away. I’m not leaving.”

Hakyeon launches at him then, and he’s just about to wrap his arms around Wonshik when he stops himself, standing on his knees and looking down at his hands in fear. “Don’t leave me,” he says then, looking up at Wonshik. “Please. Please, don’t leave.”

Wonshik smiles, reaches out and, despite Hakyeon’s desperate attempts to pull them away, takes the other man’s hands in his.

Nothing happens. Outside the first few raindrops fall from the darkening sky.