Work Text:
I.
It started in the summer before their third year.
Someone—it must have been Joshua, because he was the only one with a lawn big enough—hosted a bonfire. Seungkwan, one of Joshua’s friends from school was there. Wonwoo, one of Joshua’s friends from church, was there, too.
Seungkwan didn’t think much of him at all when their eyes first met from across the large circle that had gathered around the fire. His face was slightly distorted by the heat and embers flying everywhere. Even so, it was hard for Seungkwan to ignore the way Wonwoo’s gaze bore into him in a knowing way.
Later that night when the fire had diminished and the large group was split into smaller conversations scattered throughout the yard, Seungkwan found himself removed from the group to enjoy the cool summer night by himself.
Wonwoo appeared, settling himself down on the grass next to Seungkwan.
He reached out a hand, offering it to Seungkwan. There was something so formal about the way he did it that Seungkwan couldn’t help but laugh. Upon further inspection, Wonwoo could not have been more serious in his intentions, so Seungkwan’s laughing stopped short.
He took Wonwoo’s hand in his, shaking it twice.
II.
In the spirit of Halloween, Minghao—always a proprietor of horror movies—invited everyone over for a film screening. Something strange, foreign—and, gut-wrenchingly terrifying, Seungkwan was quick to find about thirty minutes into the movie.
His eyes landed on Wonwoo where he sat on the couch a few feet away, a number of people sitting between them. Seungkwan had been avoiding looking at him since he’d arrived, but he felt comfortable now in the dark room only illuminated by the occasional flash of light from the television screen.
Wonwoo eventually met his gaze, smiling subtly. Seungkwan didn’t know why, but a small part of him wanted to get up and shove Mingyu out of the way and sit himself down next to Wonwoo. Maybe, if he played his cards right, he could get Wonwoo to sling an arm over his shoulder and pull him close, guaranteeing his safety from the horrifying monster or whatever it is that was antagonizing the characters in the movie.
But, Wonwoo looked away after a few seconds, so he didn’t.
Later that night when the movie was over and Seungkwan was thoroughly traumatized, of all things his ride completely bailed on him. There he was, standing outside of Minghao’s house and about a two hour walk from his own.
“You live by the school, yeah?” Wonwoo said suddenly, appearing out of the front door of the house. “That’s on the way to mine.”
Wonwoo nodded toward his car. He has a car, Seungkwan added to the list of reasons he couldn’t get Wonwoo out of his head. Seungkwan nodded eagerly, half in desparation to get out of the cold and half out of his purely selfish want to be closer to Wonwoo.
Most of the car ride was spent in silence, Seungkwan keeping his eyes fixed on the darkened houses they passed every few minutes on the quiet road. It came as a surprise when Wonwoo suddenly turned off the road, shutting his car off without a word.
It came as even more of a surprise when he reached for Seungkwan, not for a handshake but to bring a hand to his cheek and pull his lips to his own.
The kiss was unpracticed and sloppy, maybe on Seungkwan’s part because to that point he had never been kissed, but Wonwoo held him so gently and was so patient in his own ministrations that it sent goosebumps up Seungkwan’s spine.
III.
“What if you came with me?” Seungkwan asked quietly, readjusting his head where he had it resting on Wonwoo’s bare chest. “When I leave, I mean?”
Wonwoo sighed, gaze still fixed on the ceiling of his bedroom.
“I don’t think I could.”
Truthfully, there would be no way. There was a clear expectation for when Wonwoo finished high school in the spring—stay in town and start learning to take over the family business. Then, one day, he would marry a girl and his parents would be happy.
He resented the idea, of working in a shop he hated with a family he hated even more and married to someone he would never be able to love in the first place.
However, Wonwoo knew well and good that it’d be impossible to change his parents’ minds.
Seungkwan, on the other hand, would be as free as he ever was when high school ended. He would go off to the city and make something of himself—he would be different from every other child brought up in the town, and he would be able to love whoever he wanted to. Wonwoo wanted to resent him for that, but he never could.
Seungkwan didn’t respond, instead turning his head to gaze at the same spot on the ceiling. There was a bit of residual glue stuck to the paint from when Wonwoo had had posters hanging up there as a child. His eyes drifted around the room, to the cluttered space with clothing and things strewn about. His gaze landed at a spot across the room, where even in the dim light it was clear a dent had been made in the drywall.
“Well,” Seungkwan started, his voice low to keep his presence unknown to everyone else in the house. “You have time to think about it.”
IV.
Even though his throat was raw and his eyes were sore from the moisture, Seungkwan could not get himself to stop crying. Wonwoo could do nothing but look on, his stomach twisting into an unforgiving knot, for when he tried to place a comforting hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder he was only batted away.
“I can’t do it,” Seungkwan choked, hiding his face in his hands. “We’ve got to—we have to stop.”
Wonwoo shook his head, unwilling to accept Seungkwan’s proposition. He stammered a desperate protest as Seungkwan stood, wiping his nose with the end of his sleeve.
It had occurred to Seungkwan recently that it was absolutely hopeless, and there was no point in forcing himself to suffer knowing it would all come to an end in a matter of four months.
So, he walked away.
V.
Wonwoo should have been happy. He graduated high school that week. If not for himself, he could have at least been happy for his friends at that party who were all going off to do such amazing things.
Still, that night was his turn to cry unabashedly the way Seungkwan had when he left Wonwoo four months ago. The back porch was a safe place to do just that, Wonwoo felt.
He didn’t even know Seungkwan was there, which made it especially surprising when Seungkwan appeared out of the sliding glass door. He settled himself next to Wonwoo on the bench, leaning his head on his shoulder. Wonwoo let him.
They sat in silence for a while because nothing needed to be said. His voice thin, Wonwoo eventually asked “When are you leaving?”
“Tomorrow,” Seungkwan sighed, sloshing the drink in his hand around a bit. “In the morning.”
Wonwoo nodded, sitting up and jostling Seungkwan from his position. He inhaled deeply.
“I’m sorry that… that I—”
“Stop,” Seungkwan interrupted, bringing a hand to the moist skin of Wonwoo’s cheek. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You’re good. You’re a good person.”
With slight hesitation Seungkwan kissed him, and the familiar feeling of his lips made Wonwoo want to crumble.
VI.
In the past, the train station was an exciting place for Seungkwan. The bustling atmosphere, the promise of new opportunities within his grasp; today, even, the train station should have been an exciting place.
It was not. Instead, the feeling that should have been anticipation was absolute dread and the painful fight to hold back the sobs that desperately wanted to escape.
“The 10:30 train to Seoul will be arriving in three minutes,” the overhead speaker announced. Seungkwan adjusted the bag on his shoulder, willing the negative thoughts away as best he could. Soon, he would be in the city, and he would be able to move on from everything once and for all.
“Seungkwan!”
Then, everything was there, standing at the top of the stairs to the train platform panting heavily and with a backpack on his shoulders.
“What are you doing here?” Seungkwan asked frantically, watching with wide eyes as Wonwoo took steps toward him and his chest heaved from exertion. “I’m—the train is coming in three minutes!”
“Can I come with you?”
“What?”
“I… I want to come with you, can I?”
“You… your parents—”
“I know.”
“You’ll be in so much trouble!”
“I know. I don’t care.”
“You can’t—you can’t just leave!”
“I can,” Wonwoo said, voice breaking as he reached for Seungkwan. He took him in his arms, holding him as close as he possibly could. “I can, I don’t care.”
Seungkwan doesn’t remember when he started crying. Regardless, he was, his hair flying astray as the train rolled into the station and settled into place with a hiss. Wonwoo released him from his hold, scanning his tearful expression.
“I’m coming with you, okay?"