Sehun legs dangle off the side of the car as he sits on the hood. His fingers drum against the dusty earthy green automobile while he stares into the distance.

   “You need to go home,” He hears and tears his attention away from the dancing city lights to the male behind him. He glows, Yifan glows underneath the Seoul city lights, despite the tattered old clothes, and Sehun being angry with him.

   “I don’t have a home,” Sehun says. “It’ll be stupid of me to go back right after being kicked out.”

   “Go home and apologize,” Yifan says, leaning against the car, right beside Sehun. His large hand touches Sehun’s thigh and it sets all of the younger boy’s nerve endings ablaze. He wants to push his hand away, and distance the space between them, but he doesn’t. There’s a larger part, the still childish part of him that wants to curl into the older male’s arms, and confess all his worries away. Alone Sehun can’t take on the world, but with Yifan he becomes so strong.

   “Apologize for what,” Sehun scoffs. “For being gay? For loving you? Maybe I should just apologize for being born. My parents only care about themselves Yifan. This is all about their image.”

   The son of a former beauty queen, and a nationally known prosecutor turned Politician seemed to have a set life. He was wealthy, good-looking, and attended one of the most prestigious private schools in the city. His picture perfect life was the envy of many, but the thing about pictures were that they never really showed the full story.

   “You don’t love me Sehun,” Yifan says. Sehun doesn’t respond right away. He quickly climbs off the hood of the car and glares at Yifan. “Where will you stay?”

   “With Jongin,” Sehun says, “or Kyungsoo. Kyungsoo will be awake at this time. Can you take me?”

   “I’m not taking you to Kyungsoo’s house,” Yifan says. A cool breezes rustles by and Sehun shifts slightly, stuffing his hands in the pocket of his jeans to alleviate the cold chill that rustles through his bones. He wants to cry, the frustration he’d been feeling for most of the day had finally begun to spill over the edge and he could feel the tears putting pressure to the back of his eyes. Each heavy-lidded blink was him pushing them back down, begging to hold on just a while longer.

   “I can’t love you,” Sehun says slowly. “We can’t love each other, and now when I want to be with someone that does love me. A person that has stood beside me my whole life, you say no.” He’s got a lot of less than friendly words waiting to be spilled off the tip of his tongue but if he lets them out then he’ll be letting the tears out as well. “If you don’t take me, I’ll go myself.”

   “You don’t have any money,” Yifan points out, his eyebrows are furrowed, and he hasn’t smiled all day. Sehun figures that’s what he’s been trying to imply all along. Sehun has nothing, but the clothes on his back. He can’t take care of himself, and it’s impossible to expect Yifan to take care of him, but he couldn’t go back.

   “I have feet and fully functioning legs,” Sehun says spitefully. “I’ll walk if I have to. Maybe I’ll get Kyungsoo to meet me. He’d do it.”

   “I’ll take you,” Yifan says, straightening up. His keys jingle as he fishes them out of his pants’ pocket, and Sehun shuffles from foot to foot, waiting with his arms cross in front of his chest. He’s cold but he refuses to admit it. Yifan heads towards the driver’s side and Sehun also starts to walk towards his side of the car until Yifan tells him to wait. “Let me see your hand,” the older boy says, walking back to the front of the car.

   Sehun reaches out his left hand, exposing the goose bumps riddled up and down his arms, and the black ink on his palm. Yifan thumb traces the English letters on Sehun’s palm and more goose bumps raise on the boy’s skin at the ticklish feeling.

   “You’re too young to be in love,” Yifan tells him drily, after reading Sehun’s newest quote. Love is painful. The felt-tip marker had smudged when he’d first wrote the words, leaving the ‘is’ to look like a blob of black ink, but it still got his feelings across.

   “You loved Yixing when you were my age,” Sehun states flatly. “You loved Yixing, even earlier than when I started loving you.” Yifan drops his hand like its poison and Sehun walks to his side of the car, not willing to listen to whatever excuse Yifan would bring up.

   That was different, he would say. Different because Yixing was dead, but it wasn’t fair.

Sorry for any typos!! It's short and probably seems incomplete but this is a part of something larger and I didn't want to put too much information