second chapter: noon

He remembers the warmth and the tightness of his arms around his waist and the pecks he left on his clavicles. He remembers how soft his skin was and how he used to link his moles with his fingers, drawing homes and cities and highways on his body. He remembers his tongue on his lips, slow and wet and precise.

Seungyoon doesn’t forget a thing.

“I thought we were gonna watch the film I recommended you last time”, Taehyun said, his arm stretched on his shoulders and his mouth close to Seungyoon’s cheek.

“You’ve already watched that, so I thought I could do it on my own”, he replied, “That’s why I chose this one, everyone was excited and thrilled about this film”.

Taehyun stared at him, not pleased.

“Let’s try at least”.

Taehyun placed his head on his shoulder, tightening his grasp around his back. Seungyoon loved how clingy he was sometimes, like a kitten in need of love – a thing he never denied. He kissed his forehead as the film started.

Silence. A white place – a laboratory? A long sequence of the furniture, a white counter, some empty cages. And again, the silence was the protagonist. As some hands moved in the screen, a creepy music started to play.

Seungyoon felt Taehyun shivering, but he didn’t say a word and so they kept watching the film.

Some minutes passed, and odd things happened in that apparently normal laboratory. Taehyun was practically shaking, his hand tightened on Seungyoon’s arm and a feeble whine caged in his shut mouth.

“Taehyun... do you perhaps dislike horrors?”, Seungyoon finally asked, gently his back.

“No, I’m perfectly fine”, he cried high-pitched.

“Right”, Seungyoon scoffed. His hand went up to his head and he slowly brushed his hair to reassure him. “Are you sure?”

“I would be happier if we could skip this tortur- film and just cuddle; of that I’m sure”, he admitted.

Seungyoon smiled widely. “No more horror for Nam Taehyun, then”, he said, as he leaned on him and covered his sight with his face, hiding the frightening scene behind him. “Only fluffy kittens and a lot of flowers and sweet lovely things”.

“That’s disgusting and cheesy”, Taehyun shuddered. “We should have watched Happy together”.

“Or maybe an film? You said, and I’m quoting, “just cuddle” two sentences ago”.

“Why we always ends up talking about that”, Taehyun grinned slightly, flicking his finger on his forehead. “It’s official: Kang Seungyoon is a ert”.

“If I’m a ert, you’re dating one and this means you aren’t that normal either. And you know that ual affinity is very important for a couple”, he joked, pinching his cheeks lightly.

“Oh really”, Taehyun stated. His fingers lingered on his face and his left thumb his lower lip, inviting. “Then we should verify this hypothesis. It’s for the science, you know”.

Seungyoon nodded mechanically.

That was the first time Taehyun could finish a horror film – it was their background till the very end.

They decided to live together in a new, bigger house. Taehyun left his place – a room in his friend’s apartment, actually – and Seungyoon followed his example. They were both tired of meeting at Seungyoon’s place, a flat with just one room and a very small bed for the two of them, and so they ended up renting a new one: theirs.

Even if they didn’t put it up in words and Taehyun didn’t really talked about that a lot, they were truly happy to share that house together. It was nice to not be alone, to find someone at home after a whole day of rehearsal or hard work; to mix up things and proprieties – even if they were jealous of some things, like Taehyun’s vinyl collection or his books, and Seungyoon’s music sheets and his guitar –... and even when they wanted some more space, when Taehyun wanted to stay alone and not face Seungyoon, when Seungyoon nagged too much or cared even more, they still stayed together, there, and ate at their table.

It was nice and warm and special. It was their place and their home.

(But that was not enough)

Taehyun sang while he cooked, cleaned, had a shower; when he hugged him just for a moment or when he hold him tight in his bed for hours; Taehyun sang when he thought too much and when his mind was blank. And Seungyoon listened all of him.

“Your voice is angelic”, he said once, kissing him delicately on his eyebrows, following their shape with his lips. “Every time you sing I feel at peace. Everything in the world fits”. The tip of his nose brushed his nose bridge. “And I just love you over and over again”, he kissed his eyelids and vowed his love on his eyes.

Taehyun smiled widely and his fingers his cheeks and then his lips. “I thought I turned you on”, he joked.

“Sometimes”, Seungyoon laughed. “And sometimes you make me... edgy”.

Taehyun looked at him attentively. “And you are like that – your voice always makes me nervous and – your voice is like a big fire without ends and meanings; a big deep flame too fascinating to resist, but too dangerous at the same time”.

“You’re telling me I’m a jerk?”

“I’m saying your have this effect on me”, he admitted reluctantly.

“And is it a good thing?”, Seungyoon wondered.

Taehyun grinned. “It is. It always is. You never bore me to death, for sure”.

Seungyoon laughed and made his voice more husky and deep. “And does it turn you on?”

Taehyun rolled his eyes and took his face in his hands, then he kissed him quickly. “Always”.

Seungyoon sleeps all the time. The bed is a dirty mess now and every time he wakes up he wishes he had cleaned a little bit, just for his own good, but he never gets up for real.

In the dark, sometimes a small light comes from under the door and he’s sure someone he’s there – somebody opened that door – when? Two days ago? A week ago? He doesn’t know – and he knows someone touched him, but it wasn’t Taehyun, it wasn’t, those weren’t his hands, his body remembers every inch of his skin and his fingers were softer and gentler and his left thumb was rough because of his birthmark – he wasn’t Taehyun, the guy who changed his clothes and fed him.

Seungyoon sleeps and dreams and remembers and hates.

He hates each detail, each memory, each glimpse of his past – he hates the empty promises Taehyun said when he was sleeping, all his I love you, all the times he was with him, each kiss and hug and word, each smile.

He hates himself even more. For believing him.

“I remember when you serenaded me; that was something. You truly are the king of cheesiness, Mr. Kang”, he chuckled.

“I was divided between the urge to shut you up and the awe for your straight face”.

“You singed about my droopy eyebrows – that’s not even, how you did that, I couldn’t even tell my friends about that because I don’t think they would have believed me”.

“How was it? I love the shape of your eyebrows or something like that”, he laughed.

Seungyoon felt the weight of his body on his chest and internally smiled.

“That was too much, but I love you even when you embarrass me”.

“I was lucky you decided to do it when we were alone at home, I’m surprised you didn’t try to serenade me yesterday night, when we were eating pizza at Carmelo’s”.

Seungyoon internally sighed in relief and he cockily felt satisfied with his decision of aborting his first project of romantically singing his serenade at that place. Taehyun was more comfortable like that, and so he was.

Seungyoon hugged him from the back, placing his hands on his stomach and his chin on his shoulder. He kissed him lightly on his neck, with love.

“I’m cooking”, Taehyun said, his hands moving precisely, a knife in his right one.

“And I’m learning”.

“You wish”. They both knew Seungyoon couldn’t cook.

Taehyun kept cutting onions and peppers for the stew, humming a sweet song, while Seungyoon kept hugging him. They stood like that for some time, while the stew was cooking in the pot.

“I missed you all day”.

“I missed you too”.

“Today I sent some of my demos to few music labels, just to give it a try. I hope they’ll actually listen to my songs, but who knows”, Seungyoon whispered in his ear, and he felt Taehyun shuddering under him.

“Could you please talk, I don’t know, from afar? It’s distracting”, he said.

Seungyoon smiled widely. “I like to see how I affect you”, he admitted happily.

He couldn’t see Taehyun’s face, but he felt his stomach tightening right under his hands and his shoulder shaking for a silent laugh.

“You wish you could”, Taehyun replied, and Seungyoon could infer how broad his smile was from the way he talked.

“Right, right”, Seungyoon conceded. “And how was your day?”

Taehyun stiffened, then he laid down the knife and raised a hand to touch Seungyoon’s cheek. His fingers were damp and dirty of pepper pulp, but he didn’t mind.

“I- I think Jaesun wants to leave the band”, he said emotionless.

Seungyoon knew he was pretending to be strong, now, playing like he didn’t care, controlling the tone of his voice to show how he was ok. “Taehyun, do you... can I do something for you?”

“Go sit there and don’t distract me, or we’ll eat a terrible meal”.

Seungyoon hugged him tightly, even more, and kissed him once again on his neck. “You know I’m here for you, every time you feel sad, dejected, raw”, he stopped talking and gave him a little peck on his jawline.

Taehyun nodded and sighed hardly. He moved his hands and held Seungyoon’s ones, folded on his stomach; afterward, he raised his left hand and kissed his palm, repeatedly, tracing down all the lines on his skin with his lips.

“I know”, he talked, breathing into his palm. “But you know I want to do all by myself, so don’t worry, I don’t need your help”.

“But-”

“And not your pity... I know you meant well”, he smiled softly, sweetening his voice, “I know you always mean well, that’s it, and I like this side of you. But I want to do it with my own strength. Is it ok for you?”

Seungyoon felt that he was excluding him from a part of his life, in that way, but he knew better: Taehyun was an independent person, with his own goals, strengths, perks and flaws. He was like that and he loved him for that – so terribly much.

“I know and I’m glad you didn’t misunderstand me”.

The air was full of uneasiness and weariness now, but Seungyoon wasn’t someone who liked that kind of subtle tension; he was more on the teasing and cheerful side, so when Taehyun tasted the broth to check the quantity of salt of their future meal, he tasted his earlobe instead. 

“What?”, he jumped in surprise.

“I’m hungry, Taehyun-ah”, Seungyoon whined, freeing his hands and tickling his stomach briskly.

Taehyun hissed: “Get a grip on yourself, we’re eating in ten minutes. You should set the table”.

Seungyoon pouted and sighed. “But I don’t want to eat the stew”, he talked like a child.

Then Taehyun laughed, genuinely, and turned around to face him. Just few seconds before Seungyoon leaned on him to kiss him properly, he remembered to turn off the gas – he didn’t want a burnt stew, for they’ll surely be hungry after – and then welcomed him.

Seungyoon remembers those times when Taehyun slept on his lap. He can still feel his soft hair under his fingers – how he liked to it, slowly, rejoicing how Taehyun smiled lightly in his sleep and how he mumbled in a happy way when Seungyoon brushed his ears.

Seungyoon remembers how Taehyun opened his eyes, still dizzy, and gripped his shirt to make him bent down – he remembers how he whispered on his cheek that he was hungry and drowsy and how he didn’t feel alone, not anymore, because Seungyoon was there with him.

Seungyoon asks himself how he let Taehyun fool him so much. Then, he remembers he once loved him.

After all the time spent out, one rehearsing, the other working at his part-time job, and vice versa; or walking, buying groceries, simply standing in queue, meeting with friends, having fun with them, drinking eating playing; after hours of desperate and eager inspiration, or dry and even more desperate lack of it – or hours of dating, finally together, hand in hand, a full happiness fluttering in their chests; after all of that, they loved to have some lazy days at home, just being by themselves.

They would order food or Taehyun would cook and Seungyoon would look at him, chatting and blabbing about anything. They would lay on the floor, on a blanket, Taehyun reading poetry – I embraced the summer dawn. / Nothing stirred on the face of the palaces. The water was still. Crowds of shadows lingered on the road to the woods. I walked, dreaming the warm, brisk winds, and precious stones looked on, and wings soared in silence. (…) –, Seungyoon listening. They would just sleep together, cuddling, or have very languid and slow or passionate and breathtaking ; when Taehyun was happy, they would sing together, Seungyoon strumming his guitar and accompanying his voice.

Those days were important at first, but as the time flew and they grew used to them, they had less free time to do so. They were more busy, anyway, attempting to have success as musicians at every cost, in addition to the work they had to do to keep living. Even so, those were still the few moments they had for each other and they were precious.

They talked too, a lot. Seungyoon liked to, and there were times when Taehyun felt to open up to him. Usually on the couch, in the living room, Taehyun’s head on Seungyoon’s shoulder, his eyes far away, but is fingers on Seungyoon’s thigh, tracing maps on him – he talked.

“When I was young I always thought that I had to something for my family. I was, I am in debt with them, for everything they did to me, and I never gave them back enough”, his voice was a whisper meant for Seungyoon and Seungyoon only. Taehyun liked how he stayed silent in those moment, brushing his hair just lightly, as he didn’t want to break the spell between them with a rushed movement.

“My grandmother liked to sing a lot, she was always humming as she did the chores; she liked those traditional songs”, Taehyun chuckled, “about love and the beauty of youth and melancholia of old age”.

“I remember when I first sang for her and she was so happy, her eyes shining with tears of joy – how her voice quivered with emotion as she saw the potential in me”.

“And my mother, she was so good to me, always smiling, always cheering me up, even if I knew how she cried at night for being alone with two children…”, he stopped then.

Seungyoon knew well how Taehyun curled up and closed himself when he indirectly mentioned his father. He tried to not do so, but sometimes he just let out a short comment, few words about him, just before he realized he had made a mistake.

Seungyoon didn’t say anything, he didn’t force or impose himself; he just patted his head, then, tenderly and started to talk in his stead. He talked about his father, even if he didn’t like to – he felt that Taehyun had to know and that in this way one day Taehyun would open up enough to tell him everything, every little dark detail of his memory. He wanted to show him how was to rely on someone else.

“My mother is still my hero”, Seungyoon said, a smile on his face, “this unexpected, strong hero you don’t see on the comics – without an armor or a costume, without banners, my personal one. She always helped me without complaining, always trusting me and the good inside me. She said I was her lighthouse in the big storm that is life, the one she always looked for and that kept her anchored to the reality”, he paused and let the words hang in the air and Taehyun’s presence in his arms warm him up a little.

“But my father – I have no good memories of him. Not one”, he closed his eyes, then, trying to grasp the image he had behind his eyelids, faint and unclear, but still there; “The smell of alcohol always fed me up – it was intoxicating, up on my nostrils, dry, nasty, disgusting – but more than that, the sound that came from my parent’s room, that neat, harsh and repetitive sound of the belt and the muffled cry, my mother’s”, Taehyun always stopped him then, hugging him, telling him it wasn’t necessary, but Seungyoon continued talking.

Every time it was a different memory, and most of the time it was just a happy one about his mother, his childhood with her or how he started to make music. How he controlled his nerves composing, putting his frustration in that and letting it become something different.

Taehyun was silent – he hugged him, as Seungyoon continued talking, and left his tears fall without a whimper.

Seungyoon knew there were many things Taehyun didn’t want to say, too proud to do so or simply too scared to admit it aloud; Seungyoon knew, but put it aside, because they were happy and they were fine together, even with all the scrapes and the little misunderstandings between them.

He thought it was ok like this, that Taehyun was ok like this.

Then something happened.

He remembers the first time together.

How wasted they were – he would laugh now, if he had the strength – when they got back home after that party. They went to his place. Taehyun was giggling, arm in arm with him, the head placed on his shoulder as they went on. He remembers how Taehyun held his hand and tugged it in the pocket of his jacket.

The kiss they shared when they finally closed the door behind them is something that Seungyoon can’t erase from his memories, even if he tries every day; the eagerness he felt in that moment, mixed with a sense of excitement and odd familiarity, is still vivid in his mind. As he kissed Taehyun and he kissed Seungyoon back, they both felt something he couldn’t explain at that time. As they were meant to be, if he has to diminish into a cliché, but it was so much more.

Seungyoon doesn’t want to say what it was, he lies to himself and goes on into the memory.

He remembers the giddy thrill he felt when they both stood completely – exposed in front of each other, studying the other one in perfect silence – and the not-so-subtle tension between them, as they got closer and finally met. The flame in Taehyun’s eyes, and his strong hands on his hips, and how spectacular his body was and felt under his touch; and what he whispered in his ear, chuckling as the alcohol confused his thoughts; Seungyoon remembers.

Even if they didn’t know the other one much, they body kind of fitted together – after just few attempts, and a bit of natural awkwardness, replaced quickly by the pleasure of discovering the other one, they both felt as there was nothing else they desired in the world. There was a – Seungyoon doesn’t know how to say it, without making fun of himself – there was something he doesn’t-

Wholeness.

As their hot and sweated skin touched, and he held Taehyun in his hands, and he let him nibble his lips, lightly his name on his mouth, and he inside him – in every moment, Seungyoon could feel it. He knew Taehyun did too, because his eyes, now even darker than before, burnt with hunger and complicity.

When they came together and Taehyun laid on him, panting, Seungyoon slid a hand on his back, keeping him closer. He didn’t want to be separated from him; he didn’t want to feel incomplete never again.

Taehyun waited until Seungyoon was completely asleep, his mouth opened as he snored lightly, his eyes moving quickly behind his eyelids. Taehyun smiled, nearly laughed for the happiness, an emotion he didn’t knew in a long time. There was something about him, this Seungyoon, and he was sure it wasn’t just the alcohol – he actually was quite of a drinker, never getting too much wasted – yes, the elation he had felt was something more.

“Seungyoon?”, he tried to call his name, appreciating the sound as he did so. He liked it. “Seungyoon”.

“You must be too tired, I’m sleepy too”, he mumbled, almost dozing off, “but I wanted to say that I might like you”.

“A lot”.

This was the first of many times.

Seungyoon got a job.

Not a part-time one in a bar as a waiter or in a shop as a shopper assistant – he got the job. The opportunity of his life, disguised as a music label.

Someone had noticed him when he performed in a pub, just three songs actually, but that was enough, they told him, as he was “still raw and not perfect, but glowing on stage as a true singer should”, he directly quoted to Taehyun, who was watching him silently. He was the first to know, even before his mother.

“Congratulations, Seungyoon”, he said and smiled, but there was something off that Seungyoon couldn’t really tell.

Taehyun hugged him, squeezing him hard, and Seungyoon chuckled, leaning his cheek on his and laughing deeply as Taehyun’s hair tickled his nose. He thanked him, caressing the back of his head with a hand, for everything he did in all that time together, just by being with him.

“Without you, I wouldn’t be here”, Seungyoon said softly, professing his love to Taehyun.

Taehyun quietly accepted his words and gripped him harder, as he didn’t want to let him go.

Their habits changed a bit, a little more as time fled.

Seungyoon started living in the studio, submerged by all the things he had to do or improve and the preparation of his album. He barely went home, for some weeks, and when they casually met he was too tired to enjoy the few moments together; even so, when he slept at home he clung on Taehyun, trying to show his affection with his embrace.

Taehyun started to hang out more with his friends and bandmates. There were times when Seungyoon got back home and the house was dark and still, with no Taehyun in it. Lifeless.

He didn’t bother too much, as long as he would come back later and snuggle under the covers, kissing the top of his head and sliding his arms around him – he would smell of alcohol, probably, or smoke, and he would tipsy talk about how he missed him in those days; or sometimes he wouldn’t say anything and just fall asleep in few seconds.

Still, there was something that Seungyoon couldn’t tell and Taehyun didn’t want to.

“So, Siwan was telling me about that time when they almost got caught by the police while they were holding a small concert without the permission and-“, Seungyoon stopped and looked at him. “Are you listening to me?”

Taehyun didn’t reply, his eyes far away. Seungyoon run a hand in his hair, softly, and finally Taehyun focused on him. “What’s up?”

“Ah, I’m sorry, I was... thinking”, Taehyun paused, uncomfortably, “What were you saying?”

“Nothing important”, Seungyoon whispered, a little frustrated. He kept his hair, trying to recollect himself. This wasn’t the first time Taehyun didn’t really pay attention to him – well, he was the type who lost himself in daydreams anyway – but recently it happened frequently. He was distracted, or maybe he didn’t care enough; Seungyoon didn’t know.

“I’m sorry”, Taehyun said, his eyes down. “Please, tell me”.

Seungyoon shook his head. “No, you tell me. What’s wrong with you lately? There is something that’s bothering you? Talk to me... even if you’re too proud to do so, please, Taehyun, lean on me. I would never make you regret it”.

“I know”.

“Then, what?”

Taehyun stirred and turned to face him. He bit his lips, unsure of what he wanted to say or even if he wanted to say something. “I don’t really want to do this, it’s just a stupid paranoia of mine”, he whispered slowly and Seungyoon had to focus to hear him.

“It’s ok”.

“Maybe it’s not, Seungyoon”, he said, searching for his hand and holding it strongly. He closed his eyes. “Maybe I’m not ok and this has nothing to do with you, and there is nothing you can do either”.

“I won’t know if you keep me away”.

Taehyun nodded, then, quickly. “I know, but I keep thinking I don’t want to burden you with this and... there is more that I just want you to not see, there are parts of me I just want to keep for myself”, he breathed unevenly, as the emotion he felt rushed his words. “We all do, don’t we? We hide under fake smiles and fake happiness and-“

“Not you, you were always so bluntly honest, Taehyun”.

“You thought I am... maybe I am, but there are things I just can’t say”.
“And that’s why I’m here for you”.

Taehyun opened his eyes and looked at him. “We can pretend, people do every day, but you never did to me. You always showed me what you thought, you always talked about yourself, your past, what you did, with so much pride, without having shame of it; that’s... that’s the thing people see in you, this – this glow, this charm and-“, he paused, too frantic, moving his eyes quickly, as he wanted to focus on something but he couldn’t – Seungyoon cupped his chin with his hands and made him look at him, once again. “And you now I’m way less confident than I look”, he breathed deeply, trying to summon up his courage, “I’m not like you, Seungyoon, and sometimes I wish I was”.

Seungyoon was taken aback. “But you’re way more beautiful and talented than me, Taehyun”.

“Still, you’re the one with a job in a music label, and I’m struggling to get my band together thrice a week”.

Seungyoon understood. He did and smiled bitterly. “It happened like this, but this doesn’t mean it won’t work for you... you must have faith”.

Taehyun snickered then, not holding back. Seungyoon could see the desperation underneath that. “I wish I was like you in this, too – this constant, strong-willed optimistic behavior I apparently don’t have. I try to fix myself”, he stopped Seungyoon when he wanted to reply him that he didn’t need to, “I tell myself I should be like you – you’re this kind of… you’re my inspiring person, Seungyoon”, he smiled softly, then, but got back to his past mood, “You never stop to fight, not even for a minute, and I really try so hard to be like you, not just because I want to please you, even if I think this has its weight in my choice, but for myself. I want to be positive too, I want to see the nice side of things, I want to look at my past and my mistakes and find in them a meaning, learn by them; but for me all those things are just my past and my mistakes, and not life lessons or God’s trials”.

Taehyun looked into his eyes and Seungyoon nodded back, silently accepting all he wanted to show him. He won’t rush him. He won’t run away. He won’t stop him.

Taehyun moved his lips, trying to talk, looking for the right words, but just a wail left his mouth. He raised a hand to prevent Seungyoon to comfort him, he didn’t want to. He breathed deeply and evenly, until he cooled down.

“I had many dreams, when I was a child”, his voice croaked anyway, “I wanted to be famous, I wanted to create something mine; I wanted to leave a mark into this world, something that would remind people of Nam Taehyun. Mostly, I wanted to make my mother proud and happy. This was, is my first aim”. He Seungyoon’s hair lightly, a smile on his lips as he did so. “I had many dreams, but reality smashed them one by one and-“

“Don’t”, Seungyoon whispered but then covered his mouth, as he had said something he shouldn’t.

“What’s worse is that I truly, seriously want to be happy for you”, his eyes were damp, his mouth was dry, “I tell myself I’m such a bastard, but I can’t help it, I’m envious of your work, of the acknowledgment you got and you’ll get, even more. I wish it was me”, he shifted his hand and rested it on his lap; he looked down, not strong anymore to face him. “I tell myself this is not ok, but there is something inside me, there’s always been something – I’m just this kind of person who can’t accept the others’ success, not when I’m not the best, I just – and I know I shouldn’t because I care for you so much. I’m sick of myself”.

“You shouldn’t, I understand from where you’re coming from”, Seungyoon started to say, but Taehyun suddenly stood up and interrupted him.

“What it’s even worse it’s that you’re like this, so open, so accepting, so warm, so-“

“It’s because I love you”.
“For that, I shouldn’t be like this”, Taehyun whispered very low, “but I am, I’m still like this and I can’t take it”.

Seungyoon got up, trying to grab his arm and shake him, trying to make him look at him, but Taehyun escaped his grasp. “I just... I need time to think”, he didn’t look at him, once again, “I need time to fix it”.
“We can do it together”, Seungyoon sounded worried.

“Don’t worry, I don’t want to leave you”, Taehyun tried to comfort him. “I just need air”, he ruffled his hair and cleaned his face from the dampness, then added: “I’ll go out tonight, Minsuk invited me, don’t wait for me awake”.

“But we could- we could talk, we could-”, Seungyoon stopped himself, knowing Taehyun just needed time after all that – he wished so.

“I’m glad you opened up to me”, he said in the end.

Taehyun smiled meekly, his eyes asking him to forgive him for what he had done to them, for what he was and what he had said.
“You know you can count on me”.

Taehyun nodded, then, sincerely. He was grateful, Seungyoon knew that; but there were so many things to think about, to work on, together – and Seungyoon didn’t know if they were ready to do so.

Seungyoon saw him leave, going out from their house as he said his farewell, and felt a weight on his chest.

The memories get his chest to pieces.

He remembers the last time together.

The hotness of Taehyun’s body under him, the air filled with his voice, how his body reacted to Seungyoon’s. The coldness of his touch, though, raw and not gentle, chasing the with eagerness, and his eyes, dull and dark after they ended. It was one of those days when Taehyun didn’t want to cuddle and they laid there, few inches apart, panting and shivering, as the room temperature was too cold now that they weren’t linked anymore.

Seungyoon missed him, his warmth of his smooth skin, but didn’t say anything as he knew it wasn’t the right time. He just tilted his head and looked at him, his profile, how his eyes opened and closed and he inhaled and exhaled and he chewed his lower lip, thinking.

He fell asleep like this, watching Taehyun.

When he’s sure Seungyoon is sleeping, Taehyun got up. He got a message from his friends and he really couldn’t say “no” to them.

As he dressed up, he kept looking at him. Seungyoon was sleeping in a fetal position, his thick lips opened, as he mumbled in his sleep, a hand fisted on Taehyun’s pillow. Taehyun smiled, bittersweet.

When Seungyoon woke up, Taehyun wasn’t there.

He felt a little bit cold.

“What I dislike more about myself, when you’re gone and it’s dark – it’s always dark in this house, now – is that I was completely blind, the whole time”.

“You shouldn’t smile like this, it’s your fault too. But there are times I think it’s mostly mine”.

“If I had been more observing –“

“I hate you so much for what you did to me, but I think I hate myself more. Please stop smiling, now, this is not funny, I’m serious”.

“Taehyun, what I miss the most is how we were together at the beginning, when we sincerely talked about everything and there weren’t secrets between us”.

“I’m sorry I hate you most of the time”.

“Taehyun-ah, I miss your confessions at night. I liked how you spoke to me in the dim light of the streets; I waited for those hours, 1AM, 2AM, when you would fill up the air with your words. Now, those hours are empty”.

“I can’t forget that day too – I can’t forget so many things, for this I hate you more, you’re such a- you said you wanted to leave your trace in the world... you surely marked me”.

Seungyoon sighs and looks at him. For once he’s completely honest, there is no rage or hatred in him, just a ignorant peace that confound his senses.

“I really want to erase all these memories that keep hunting me, but there is no way to delete you from me, Taehyun, there is no way out from us, I just- I just want to be happy again, but I can’t get up from here, I can’t get out – the light, the air, the people upset me – I can’t help it”.

“And I sleep at day, I close the blinds and cover myself, trying to not think. I’m ok, then. There is no way to sleep at night, even if I always lose the track of time, I’m always aware when it’s 2AM, my heartbeat increases, I’m unable to cool down”.

“They call it trauma, you know. They tried to fix me, but I apparently don’t want to be cured, so that’s why I keep being like this”.

“I probably can’t let you go”.

Seungyoon shakes his head, scoffing what Taehyun tells him.

“The night you- the call I got at 2AM, that night, I keep playing it in my head”.

“Every time I wish the outcome will be different, but nothing changes”.

*

A/N: The poem Taehyun reads to Seungyoon is Dawn by Arthur Rimbaud.

About the present part: I just want to say that Seungyoon isn’t a reliable narrator when he talks about his feelings toward Taehyun, so please understand that sometimes some contradictions depends on how he feels in that specific moment. (sometimes he hates him, other times he misses him)

Besides, I’m sorry if it can be a little puzzling with the different times, just follow the flow and trust the verbal tenses. That should be enough, I hope.