Warning(s): mentions of bulimia

Jongups says it’s good to tell yourself you’re beautiful sometimes. Jongup says it’s necessary. For the healing. But when Himchan looks into the mirror, it’s difficult to follow the easy task. He stares into the mirror and his face distorts little by little. His cheek puff out a little more. He’s wearing glasses again. His nose. His skin darkens a little. Himchan turns away, tears threatening to pool out, but he’s already applied his makeup and he doesn’t want it smeared.

Jongup says Himchan is beautiful, but when Himchan looks back at himself, he wants to puke. Because all Himchan sees is himself and he’s disgusting. His hand covers his mouth when he retches. If only Jongup knew. If only Jongup knew about the hours spent in the bathroom with two fingers down his throat. Just the thought had him clawing at his throat. He can still taste the vomit piling up, smell its putrid stench.

Jongup says Himchan is perfect, but Himchan knows better.

He pulls on his coat and leaves the house, he’s talking to an agency today.

Jongup first notices the bad habits returning when Himchan hadn’t smiled the whole day. He watches as Himchan adds beauty cream after beauty cream to the cart. And then he adds piet pills. And then he adds whitening creams. And then he adds appetite suppressors. Himchan sees him watching, but if Jongup isn’t going to bring it up, Himchan isn’t going to defend himself.

The second time is when Himchan hadn’t eaten a thing all day. Jongup knows. He can tell by how shaky Himchan is. The taller boy walks slowly and carefully down the hall, eyes closed, hands feeling the wall for support. His hands are covered by Jongup’s moments later and he’s guided through the throngs of people.

The third time, Jongup catches Himchan crying. There’s snot running down his face and his cheeks are blotchy, but Himchan is still beautiful.

“No, go away,” he sobs, but Jongup, patient as ever, only moves closer, warmth engulfing Himchan. “I look ugly when I cry.”

“No, you always look beautiful,” he whispers, arms wrapped tightly around him, pressing a kiss to Himchan’s temple.

But his sobs grow more violent. “Why do you say that?” He whines, clutching onto the brunet’s shirt. “Why?”

“Because it’s true,” Jongup replies honestly. “You’ve always been beautiful.”

Himchan says Jongup is wrong. Himchan isn’t beautiful. But Himchan doesn’t see the way his hair moves in the wind. Or the way his eyes light up when he smiles. Himchan doesn’t see how his eyes can pierce through anyone. Himchan doesn’t see the way his body moves when he walks, the elegance of himself. Himchan doesn’t see the way Jongup looks at him.

Himchan says he’s talentless. But Himchan doesn’t see the people drowning in his music at performances. He doesn’t see the way the teachers praise him. Himchan doesn’t hear his parents gushing to the neighbors. Himchan doesn’t see the angel lulled by his music.

Himchan says Jongup is the most beautiful creature. Himchan says this when he’s red cheeked and very drunk, but he grabs Jongup’s face in his hands repeating the statement over and over again and Jongup is almost willed to believe him.

But Jongup knows better, Himchan is the most beautiful creature.

“Jonguppie~!” Is the only warning he gets before arms are thrown around his body.

“Oof, hyung,” whines Jongup, fighting to keep balance.

“Guess what?”

Jongup doesn’t have to guess. “The agency accepted you.”

Himchan frowns. “It’s no fun telling you things, Moon Jongup. You aren’t actually supposed to guess. You’re supposed to let me tell you.”

Jongup lifts a brow. “Sorry, hyung.”

Himchan doesn’t frown for very long and it isn’t long before his face breaks into a grin. “I’ll forgive you this one time.”

He begins to peak animatedly about his day, body twitching in excitement and eyes so shiny, Jongup finds it hard not to smile. Jongup wraps his hand around Himchan, listening quietly to the story. Himchan speaks fast, too excited for actual cohesion. He talks about meeting the interviewer, how he didn’t even have to really audition, how the building was great. And then he talks about Yongguk.

Jongup’s head jerks up. Yongguk?

“Bang Yongguk is the other trainee for the group and wow, Jonguppie. He’s really amazing.” Jongup nods as Himchan tells him about this Bang Yongguk. He spends all his time in the recording studio and Himchan is sure he’s some sort of antisocial brooder, but that makes him kinda hot, right? But some of the songs he’s heard are sort of masterpieces (even though none are fit for broadcast) and Yongguk is just so real and human. Jongup flinches at that. Bang Yongguk has gone through heartbreak and raw emotions and Himchan feels as if he’s known him all his life. Jongup nods, mute. He’s been taught that feeling in training. Humans feel it when they meet their soulmate.

Soulmate. A thing only for humans. Not for angels like him.

Jongup just smiles softly at the excited Himchan, hand slowly letting go of the other’s.

Jongup is just an angel. An angel of wishes. He’s supposed to come to earth and help humans. Not just one, but many, but there’s this way that Himchan looks at him like he’s everything in the universe and Jongup soon begins to rely on that look.

It starts off as simple smiles and greetings every morning when they met. An unscheduled morning walk to school everyday. But then it leads to small touches here and there, fingers brushing against each other and that soft, shy smile accompanied by a blush that Himchan gives him. From there, it moves into nicknames, hand-holding and soft forehead kisses. Before he’s even sure of the emotion, Jongup has fallen hopelessly for that dorky laugh, twinkling eyes, and the way Himchan’s hand fits so perfectly in his own.