[M] Chapter Thirteen (1/1)

JIYONG April 27th, 2013 I was so tired. Like all of my energy had been sapped, wrung out like gray water from an old rag. I didn't know where my motivation was even coming from anymore. At this point I was just barreling forward on fumes alone. And by the end of April I was basically living at school, frantically matting and framing all of my finished pieces to hang in the 9th St Gallery the following week. In a lot of ways it seemed as though I'd been working on this show for years instead of months. I couldn't believe it was almost over. Rubbing at my eyes, I yawned, staring vacantly at the woodcut print lying on the table in front of me. I'd guzzled close to a gallon of coffee today already and the weight of my muscles had only become heavier, my fingers stiff and unresponsive. I also hadn't been eating much, which certainly didn't help. In fact, the only thing I'd done in the way of taking care of myself was to get my hair cut and dye it back to brown. I gave less and less of a shit about my appearance these days. I probably looked like a complete mess in my ratty fucking t-shirt, unraveling red cardigan, torn jeans, and hole-ridden Vans. Then again, this was art school. I'd blend in with all the other grunged-out, unwashed slackers and no one would even notice.  I scrubbed my hands over my face, trying to wake myself up, but it wasn't working. The scattered pile of my life on paper stared back at me and I wondered if it was obvious how much of Seunghyun I'd put into each piece. Sometimes it was parts of him; eyes, lips, fingers. Sometimes it was more an expression of how the older man made me feel. A representation of his warmth and how much I longed for it to be mine again. Everything I'd done for this project, every moment spent toiling away...Seunghyun had been there. In some way or another. Even if most of it had been born from sorrow and a desperate sort of craving, I wished that he was really here to see it. To see what he did to me, how he lived inside of me. What he meant to me. The letter I'd sent came to mind then, and now I was wondering if I'd scared Seunghyun with the extent of my love for him. Of my want and my need. When I hadn't received a word in response, I truly began to fear that I had. But the hope remained, sitting alongside the dull ache to keep it company while I waited. They suited each other, their coexistence making it far easier for me to function day in and day out. Instead of rot and waste away. I sighed. I needed to get the hell out of here for a few hours because nothing was being accomplished. I would come back later, once I had napped and felt less like roadkill. Storing everything away, I picked up my bag and left the building. But when I stepped outside, the man I'd just been thinking about was standing on the sidewalk, staring down Lenora St with a pensive expression on his clean-shaven face. I froze, hovering at the top of the stairs as my heart beat thunderously against my ribcage and roared in my ears. Seunghyun. Had I honestly lost my fucking mind? His hair was considerably longer, mostly pulled back in a tiny little ponytail but it was definitely him. I let my gaze travel over his form, attempting to convince myself of his existence. Tailored, navy blazer, pale blue sweater, form-fitting chinos and slick, brown loafers. I nearly choked. He was gorgeous and beyond preppy and it was hilarious and adorable and I swore I was dreaming. Seunghyun turned then, eyes locking onto mine. There were a few seconds of only this. Wide-eyed disbelief. Awe. I yelled at myself to move, to do something, but I couldn't. Not until Seunghyun's brilliant smile crept slowly across his face.  I didn't hesitate, leaping from the steps and dropping my bag as I launched myself at him, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. Those arms, arms that I'd been thinking about for forever, held me close. Seunghyun's surprised laughter made me whole and I clung to him, wild grin pressed into the curve of his neck. He was here. He was really here. I wasn't hallucinating. I could feel the comforting heat of his body seeping into my own and it was heaven. My chest threatened to crack open from the explosion of happiness inside of me and I drew back, gazing intently into pretty, dark eyes. I knew there were probably tears in mine, tears of joy. Seunghyun was still smiling and it hurt in the best possible way. He was radiant. And he was here. Seunghyun. Seunghyun. Seunghyun. Not willing to wait a moment longer, I leaned in to claim his lips, the initial contact sending a jolt of warmth straight to my center. It trickled from my ribs and pooled in the empty spaces until I thought it might begin pouring out of me in waves. His mouth was soft, so soft and eager against mine. I took my time relearning the contours of those lips, teasing them with my tongue and nipping at them with my teeth. He tasted unbelievably sweet and I just wanted to drown in it. To drown in Seunghyun. Fuck, I had missed this more than I'd ever missed anything. Missed him. It was like all of my scattered atoms were stitching themselves back together, like his kiss alone was picking up the pieces. I pressed in harder, licking into his mouth, and he hummed in pleasure. Sliding to my feet, I melted against him. Seunghyun was breathing heavily as he pulled away to gaze into my eyes. He trailed a finger over my eyebrow and cupped my cheeks in his large palms. An ocean of words filled the gaps between us; a jumbled sea of letters encompassing all the things we had yet to communicate to each other. Seunghyun's thumbs brushed back and forth over my skin. “I'm so in love with you. I've been waiting for six months-” he took a deep breath and shook his head slightly, lips curving up into a gentle smile. “I think I've been waiting my whole life to tell you that.” The tears spilled over then and Seunghyun wiped each one away with his thumbs as they fell. My heart throbbed, singing its euphoric approval and I wanted to hear him tell me over and over until I was sick of it. Which would be never.  “Say it again.” “I love you, Jiyong,” he murmured, words so warm and tender, coiling around my bones where I would keep them always. I kissed Seunghyun again, hands slipping under his blazer to sink into the supple material of his sweater. Please don't let me wake up from this. Please please please. He tugged me closer, fingers burying themselves into my hair as his tongue caressed mine, little sparks of elation coursing through me. Heaven. When I withdrew, I burrowed into the embrace and just hugged him. I never wanted to let go. My head swam as I inhaled the familiar scent of Seunghyun's skin, my body buzzing. I was feeling so many things at once and there were so many questions I wanted to ask but I couldn't ruin this. He stroked the hairs at the nape of my neck and I practically purred. My lips found his a third time. I couldn't stop kissing him. There were months of deep, slow kisses that we'd been robbed of and I was making up for it now. Would be making up for it for the rest of my life. My breath caught in my throat and I tried to collect myself. I smiled broadly, disregarding the world around us because nothing mattered more than Seunghyun's bright eyes looking down at me. “I love you,” I whispered, voice cracking with the weight of my heart in my mouth. “So much.” He stole another sweet press of mouths and I sighed. But in the fog of my bliss I hadn't even thought about the reason for his sudden presence. Breaking the kiss, I leaned back, eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, why are you here?” I realized how that sounded and rushed to elaborate. “I mean why are you here, now, at my school?” “Cornish was hosting a workshop, for woodworking. Really it was just an excuse to come find you.” Mildly confused, I tilted my head to the side, hands rubbing absently at the small of his back. “But you had my address and my phone number.” “I lost it the day I mailed you the cardinal.” He blushed faintly, glancing away. “I left it on the counter at the post office, someone must have thrown it out. Believe me, I tore that place apart looking for it. I'm sorry for making you worry. I'm sorry for so many things. But I'm here now, and I'm going to do my best to set things right.” Seunghyun's fingers hadn't ceased to move, stroking further down my neck and then up along my jaw. It took me a second to collect my thoughts. He was so distracting. “Just promise me that I'll never have to say goodbye to you again until I'm on my goddamned death bed.”  “I promise.” He grinned, sealing the oath with a press of his lips at the corner of my mouth.  “Did you ever get my letter?” I asked quietly, picking some imaginary piece of lint from the front of his sweater. “Not until the end of February. I'd almost started to wonder if you'd moved on with your life, but that letter made me realize neither of us could without the other. So here I stand before you,” he smiled and paused, staring at me intently and always with so much warmth. “Are you ready?” I swallowed around the lump of emotions that had collected in my throat. After months of feeling like I'd been running in place, floundering and stagnant, I'd never been more ready to start moving again. And this time towards a life that I wanted. One that didn't lack direction or purpose or meaning. Seunghyun was everything to me, and as long as he remained, I would never be anything other than perfectly content.  “I've got you,” I said, lifting my hands to dust fingers over the swell of his cheekbones. “I'm ready for anything.” Seunghyun bestowed a kiss to my brow and laced his fingers with mine. The reality of our knuckles and joints locked together almost caused my heart to burst. I just need you. Without another word, I grabbed my stuff and dragged him off to my apartment.  SEUNGHYUN  On the car ride back to his place, Jiyong had asked me if I’d enjoyed the workshop. Truthfully, I couldn’t say I had. It was all a blur of indistinct voices and milling shapes. The only thing I’d been able to focus on the entire day was the fact that I was here and Jiyong was here. Perhaps I’d regret my inattention later, but right now he was the only thing that mattered. I told him as much and he laughed at me, fingers reaching out to twine with my own. I hadn’t let go of his hand until I’d pulled my rental into a parking space two blocks from our destination, but I swiftly took it again as we made our way down the cracked sidewalk, completely oblivious to whatever onlookers might think.  Jiyong’s apartment was a walk-up located just over the ‘right’ side of the tracks. The outside was covered in nondescript, white vinyl siding. Boring, conventional. But as soon as we stepped inside, I saw how Jiyong’s creative spirit had taken over the small space. Framed prints and posters lined the walls; concert bills sat next to eerie, finely-detailed linocuts of trees and surreal scenes from nature. I was surprised at the lack of knickknacks I had assumed might coat every flat surface. Besides an oddly-shaped lamp on the end table next to the couch, the only decorations not hung on the walls were a framed picture of Jiyong and his sister, and a black-and-white shot of his parents from days gone by, both nestled together on the middle shelf of his worn bookstand. Bookshelf, couch, and coffee table. Minimalist, but comfortable. Lived-in. It wasn’t really what I’d expected, but what I expected was completely irrelevant. The rush of pleasure I felt at learning something new about Jiyong pulled my lips up into a silly grin. “Are any of these yours?” I asked, gesturing to the prints on the wall. I’d never seen Jiyong’s work, aside from the sketches he’d made in the cabin, and now my curiosity was taking hold. “Yeah, those,” he answered, pointing to three pieces spaced evenly around the living room. His eyes lingered on a print depicting a little girl in summer clothes. She was crouched down, holding her tiny hand out to an equally tiny black-and-white puppy. “The one over the couch is my cousin’s daughter. They’d just adopted a new puppy and she couldn’t leave the damn thing alone. For hours they both followed each other all over the backyard, it was adorable. She never once stopped giggling.” He grinned. “I took the picture with my phone and used it for one of my illustration classes last year.” I resisted the urge to tell him nothing could possibly be more adorable than the look on his face just now and walked over to the couch in order to get a better look at the print. Also to be nearer to him. There were five feet separating us, and I wanted none. It was needy and desperate and I didn’t care. Jiyong shifted as I stepped closer, face beginning to flush. I’d thought nothing could be more adorable than the way he’d lit up as he told me the story behind his print, but I was wrong. He coughed, sidling away from me. “Would you like a glass of water?” “Sure.” Just like that he was gone, leaving me to wonder over his sudden anxiety and observe my surroundings more closely. Somehow, I’d managed to miss the large sketchpad lying on the coffee table. I slid it toward me as I sat down on the couch, fingers gently prying the book open. Drawings of all types littered each page. Perhaps littered wasn’t the right word. The images were beautiful, haunting. A mixture of the angular doodles he’d been so fond of making in the cabin, and the more traditional lines of the piece that graced the wall over his couch. I turned the page again, and sucked in a breath. It was… me. Pieces of me, anyway. My hands, eyes, mouth. He’d even drawn my ears, for some reason. And they were everywhere, interspersed throughout the other drawings. It was as though he’d tried to commit every detail of my face to paper, or at least the ones he remembered the most. A thought struck me as I stared at the images: he’d been capturing the tangible, and I, with my lesser artistic skill, had been trying to bring to life the intangible. There was a 6’x4’ slab of oak in the studio at my house in Anchorage that had started as a canvas on which I could practice my chiseling techniques, and had ended up a testament to the things I felt when I thought about Jiyong. Loops and curls and jagged lines scored every inch of the wood, each shape as unfixed and indefinite as the depth of my passion for the boy who’d brought me back to life. When Jiyong returned, two glasses of water clutched in his hands, he watched me pour over the drawings for a moment before offering me one. I took it, closed the sketchpad, and practically guzzled the contents of the cup, eyes never leaving his. There was tension in the air, though it didn’t feel uncomfortable. Anticipation. I glanced down at his lips when he pulled the glass away from them; saw his pink tongue dart out to lick away a droplet of water. Desire. He sat his empty glass on the table next to mine, and held out his hand. If this were a more conventional relationship, the fact that he led me back into his bedroom might have given me pause. I might have tried to stop him from easing my blazer over my shoulders and down my arms, or insisted we draw out the situation with a lengthy talk about how we’d gotten here, and what should come next. But that wasn’t the nature of our story. Practicality had never been a part of this; everything that had happened since the first day we’d met had been unconventional, and it worked for us. Words would come later. Right now, all we needed was emotion and sensation. Sensation came in spades the second Jiyong’s fingers crept under the hem of my sweater, blunt nails scraping gently over the skin of my lower back. I hissed as I bent to capture his lips. He wasn’t playing fair. When we broke apart it was only so that I could trace every plane and angle of his body with my mouth as I undressed him slowly, savoring the feeling of being back in his arms once more. Jiyong made little noises of satisfaction high in his throat every time my tongue darted out to taste him. I could spend a very long time like this, lost in the smell of his skin and the sounds of his pleasure. He backed me up to edge of the bed when I’d gotten him down to nothing but socks, half-hard already though I’d studiously avoided the area between his legs. I looked down at his feet, still covered by a pair of Pac-man socks, and bit my lip. “I love you,” he said, following my gaze, “but you are not licking my toes.” My own clothes came off with much greater speed. Jiyong reciprocated the teasing touches, leaving me a panting, trembling mess, sprawled out on the bed in front of him like a ragdoll. Before I could pull him on top of me, he gripped my knees and insinuated himself in the space between them. My breath caught in my throat, stuck there until Jiyong lowered his head and nipped at the inside of my thigh. The air that was trapped in my lungs forced itself out in a shuddering sigh. I’d tried not to think about these moments while we’d been apart; the hurt, the very real ache of loss they inspired was never worth the few minutes of pleasure I’d derived from them. Dreams came unbidden, of course, but when I could force my thoughts in other, less maddening directions, I’d done so. I hadn’t touched myself since a failed attempt that God-awful Christmas night; too drunk and too sad to get up, much less get off. So it was hardly surprising when the lightest of touches on my stomach, my legs, and one, single finger trailing down my shaft nearly had me coming off the bed. I glanced down after a particularly loud yelp to find Jiyong staring at me with an inscrutable look on his face, lip caught between his teeth. Without warning, he gripped my cock tightly at the base. I arched up off the bed, but he laid a hand flat on my stomach and eased me back down. His tongue flicked out and, making sure I was focused on what he was doing, he swiped it across my slit. The speed at which I came would have been mortifying if I’d been able to feel anything but the white-hot surge of pleasure that shot through my entire body.  Some still-functioning part of my brain registered my legs being maneuvered onto the bed, and I struggled to bring myself up onto shaking arms. “Sorry,” I mumbled, more than a little self-conscious now that blood was flowing places other than south.  Jiyong wiped a string of come off his cheek and sucked his finger clean. My cock responded with a twitching pulse. Oh. “Don’t be sorry,” he grinned, watching my reaction with hungry eyes, “unless you can’t get it up again, old man.” “You’re gonna have to give me a minute,” I laughed, flopping back down onto the mattress, eyes closed. “Hey, no sleeping. If you fall asleep I’m gonna kill you.” Jiyong poked me in the ribs, mercilessly digging his fingers into the spaces between them. I grabbed his wrists and hauled him on top of my prone body. “Then keep me awake.” I kissed him like I hadn’t in six months; shared breath and life between our lips. I’d always thought of Jiyong’s kisses as giving life, and I’d never felt more awash with energy than when his tongue curled against mine. I let my hands trace the muscle and sinew of his body, mapping every inch and allowing memories to flood me. He was still the most beautiful man I’d ever known. Fingers slid down his spine, pressing into the spaces between each notch. He was thinner now. The stresses of school and separation had whittled him down with unforgiving hands, and I vowed that mine would make him whole once again. Time lost all meaning in these moments. Our lips met again and again, unhurried. It was better than my dreams. It always would be. After ten minutes or ten hours, my hands found the pert globes of Jiyong’s ass and pulled his hips against mine. I delighted in the groan that met my ears. He writhed above me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, arching up into him. It was only after his erection slid against my own, the friction making both of us gasp, that I realized I was hard again. Jiyong smiled, teeth scraping my lips. “Maybe not such an old man after all,” he said with a soft laugh and a roll of his hips. “Please tell me you have lube. Anything. I need you,” I whined, past the point of caring how desperate I sounded.  Jiyong smoothed the long strands of my hair away from my face, and kissed my cheek sweetly.  “Hold on.” He rifled through the top drawer of his dresser and was back an instant later, already slickened fingers sliding down the cleft of my ass. Jiyong took his time preparing me, even though I begged him to go faster. He hushed me with another kiss, and I melted into the sensation of his touch after being deprived of it all this time. Finally, Jiyong eased himself inside, whispering I love you I love you so much into the hollow of my mouth as I keened at the feeling of him filling me. He set a slow pace, making love to me like he was afraid I might break. I watched him as we moved. Every expression that crossed his face was one of pure pleasure and happiness; it was captivating. His hips snapped faster and faster as I breathed encouragements into his ear. My own pleasure was building steadily, but I refused to let it overtake me. Not yet. Not until Jiyong found his completion. “Seunghyun,” he mewled into my neck. “Too good. Gonna come.” Our lips met in a heated kiss. A hand snaked between us and deft fingers wrapped around me. Jiyong cried out, half the sound lost when I released one of my own. He was right. It was too good. It was too good, and I couldn’t hold back any longer when I felt him shudder, hot seed spilling inside of me. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed into me as Jiyong rode out his orgasm, panting hotly into my shoulder, eyes closed tight. Jesus, he was so beautiful in the throes of passion.  And he was mine. If I could, I would have come again just at the thought of that. He was mine, and I was his, and we were together again. Making love as if no time had passed at all. * “I’ve dreamed about this so many times. Holding you in my arms," I whispered, too relaxed to raise my voice any further, and pulled him closer to me. My lips found his temple and placed a soft kiss there, mindless of the sweaty mess that had become of his short, brown hair. Jiyong smiled into the slick skin of my chest. “Anything else you’ve dreamed of?” “You mean besides what we just did? Because that was a nightly feature.”  The boy in my arms snorted.  “I dreamed about kissing you in your cap and gown at graduation. I dreamed about buying us a house in the suburbs. Having kids, building a life, and spending every moment I have left on this Earth loving you.” Jiyong stilled, and I looked down, worried I might have said too much too soon. But he was staring up at me like I’d fallen from heaven. The hand that had been idly stroking his hair trailed across his flushed cheek and tilted his chin.  “I don’t think my mind could conjure a future without you in it, so…” I mumbled sheepishly. We fell into the depths of each other’s gaze for a long moment, and then Jiyong leaned up, lips sweet on my own. “You’d really want to have kids with me?” he asked, voice wavering. “I want everything with you,” I answered honestly. “And I’ve never wanted anything, –anyone– so much. It scares me, but in a good way. More like anticipation than fear.” His soft fingers caressed my face, and I closed my eyes to take in the feel of it. The bridge of my nose, the thick lines of my eyebrows, my lips; everything was given the gentle treatment, and I was nearly lulled to sleep by the comfort I found in his ministrations. “’Everything’ sounds nice,” he whispered, kissing my chin. “As does ‘forever’ and ‘always’.” “Jiyong Kwon, are you asking me to marry you?” I teased, finally opening my eyes. Jiyong had his lip between his teeth again. I felt the first stirrings of arousal low in my belly. “Some day.” We lapsed into a comfortable silence, hands sweeping and fingers splaying across each other’s skin. Jiyong wanted to marry me. I hadn’t given it –marriage– much serious thought, even in all the months I had with nothing but thoughts to tide me over. Gay marriage was still a pipe dream in Alaska, but it had been legalized in Washington for a few months now. I’d been brought up by two loving parents who had stuck together through thick and thin, and I wanted the same thing with Jiyong. It was romantic, and an increasingly naïve ideal in this day and age, but I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Jiyong at my side. Wanted to raise a family and grow old with him. It was possible, here in Washington. And we could start today. “So, how are things going with school?” I asked, attempting to keep the giddiness at the prospect of marrying him out of my voice. “Really? This is the conversation we’re having now?” There was a smile on his face, belying the snark in his tone. “I’m interested in what you’ve been doing for the last six months.” “I became a depressed recluse,” he muttered wryly and went quiet, no more words forthcoming.  “You don't have to talk about this right now if you don't want to.” Jiyong shook his head, a faint sigh leaving his lips. “No matter how hard I tried to distract myself, you were always there. I never stopped thinking about you, and…” his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, eyes flicking up to meet mine and then away again just as quickly. “And it wasn’t easy.” “Oh, Ji.” “I threw myself into projects at school, barely sleeping and replacing food with whiskey and cigarettes. But then I only felt numb, which was marginally better than the pain that came with missing you. I cried when you sent me the cardinal. Then fell asleep at the kitchen table. I think I slept more in that shitty metal chair than I ever did here. Though when I did sleep, I dreamed of you.” Jiyong smiled then, unsteadily. “Of the day when you would come back to me. It gave me hope. And I got less depressed.” The quiet laughter that left his lips sounded more sincere than his smile had been. “Also I quit smoking last month because I kept imagining you scolding me in my head. But it was a terrible idea since I’ve never been more stressed out in my life.” He sighed and ran a hand through his short hair, still keeping his eyes fixed to a spot just under my chin. I couldn’t stand to see the sadness that furrowed his brow, so I swept it away with my thumb. “You quit smoking? For me?” The words had their intended effect. Jiyong looked at me, finally, and planted a hand firmly over my heart. His eyes lit up in mirth even as he rolled them, and his lips curled into a reluctant grin. “Yes, I quit smoking for you.” I framed his face in my hands carefully and leaned toward him until our mouths were brushing softly against one another. “I kept living for you.” And I took life from the kiss he gave me, sweet and tender and perfect. “Not that I was implying I would have killed myself, but I might have accidentally drank myself into a coma.” “So basically we’ve both been emotional wrecks,” he murmured against my lips, chuckling softly. “What have you been doing the last six months? Besides destroying your liver.”  “I joined a guild,” I sighed as we settled back into the pillows. “The fuck are you? A dwarf? Do you carry an axe and slay goblins?” “A woodworker’s guild. What are you? Some closeted Lord of the Rings fanboy?” Jiyong pointed across the room to his dresser. There sat the Lord of the Rings trilogy, in all its leather-bound glory. “Oooh. Not so closeted.” He pinched my waist and laughed as I squirmed away from his fingers. “I’m a proud nerd. Deal with it.” “Can dealing with it involve you wearing elf ears and a long, blonde wig?” I asked hopefully, only half joking. “I can definitely deal with that.” Jiyong giggled. I had missed the sound of his laughter so much. Every snort and snicker I drew out of him was like taking an eraser to the dark lines of pain that had been etched onto my heart. “But seriously, I joined a guild. Started learning new things, new tricks of the trade. I’m actually working on a sort of mural at the moment.” I glanced down to find an impressed print-maker staring back up at me. “I even… attended a craft fair,” I admitted guiltily. It was the least ‘cool’ thing I’d done (minus nearly drinking myself to death), but I might as well tell him now. There were going to be many more craft fairs in our future. Jiyong laughed again, then pressed his face into my neck. I was never going to tire of that sound.  “There’s something different about you,” he murmured, voice quiet and so low I almost missed it.  When my brain finally registered what he’d said, I felt myself stiffen. He’d said this once before. In a dream. The dream I’d had before I’d received his letter, and the stars had aligned, and everything had fallen into place. It was like déjà vu. For a split second I was terrified that this was another dream, and when I woke Jiyong would be gone. But then his hands trailed up my side, and he pressed his lips to the hollow of my throat, bringing me back to the reality that was better than any dream I could ever hope to have. “Good different, or bad different?”  He didn’t hesitate. “Good different.” I smiled down at him and he smiled back, all white teeth and pink gums and lips red and swollen from kisses.  “Good,” I said, and joined our mouths again.  JIYONG  When we woke up the next day, together in bed, I was floating. Seunghyun's cheek was smashed against my shoulder, lips curling as he shifted closer and nosed into the crook of my neck. His long hair tickled my skin and I swept it away from his face. The simple action of my fingers combing through silken strands calmed me. It was amazing how quickly my mood had changed, how easily the depression had lifted once I'd wrapped Seunghyun up in my arms. The night before had been restorative in that way only physical intimacy could achieve. In that way only his touch could provide. I was convinced that Seunghyun had been placed on this earth for me and me alone, which was a disgustingly romantic notion even for my secretly sentimental ass. And as much as I wanted to laze about in bed for the rest of the day (or the rest of my life), Seattle was waiting. I hadn't forgotten the whispered promises we'd made to each other that night at the motel all those months ago and I intended to see them through. There was too much I wanted to share with Seunghyun and I wondered if we'd ever have enough time. Even forever seemed too short. My mouth split into a wide grin as I dusted my knuckles along the curve of his jaw. “Morning, beautiful.” He hummed and lifted his head, the smile adorning his face causing my heart to skip more than one beat.  “I can't wait to come up with pet names for you,” he said, voice still thick with sleep. “How do you feel about 'sweetheart'?”  I quirked an eyebrow.  “'Baby'? 'Sugar'? What about 'love of my life'?” “Has anyone ever told you that you're remarkably cheesy?” Tracing the slope of his nose, I let my touch trail over the tip to find the softness his lips. “Shh,” he hushed, puckering his lips against my finger. “You like it.” And I really did. Even if I was rolling my eyes, my insides were morphing into marshmallow fluff. Seunghyun took my hand in his and proceeded to kiss every finger pad in turn. I could feel my organs consolidate into a solid, sugary blob by the time he reached my pinky. “You can call me whatever you want,” I murmured, ducking down to replace fingers with mouth and tongue. Seunghyun's smile moved against my own and I pushed him back until I was laying on top of him. His arms coiled around me and he nuzzled so sweetly at my cheek, peppering my skin with more kisses. “I just want to call you mine.” “I will always be yours, Seunghyun.” His breathing slowed, lips held firmly to my face as he hugged me tightly and stroked the back of my head. We stayed that way until it became more than I could handle, the enormity of my affections and my love becoming a tangible mass that clung to every thought and every inhale. Eventually I forced myself to drag us out of bed and into the shower. Though my bathroom was probably about a third of the size of the one we'd shared in the cabin, I was sure neither of us minded the lack of space. Seunghyun's hands lingered on my hips when we'd finished, lips attached to the nape of my neck. I leaned against him and he rubbed circles into my stomach while the warm cascade of water traveled along our bodies. I closed my eyes and covered one of his hands with mine. “You're too skinny,” he spoke quietly into my ear, thumb following the contour of a protruding rib. “I know.” For a moment there was only the sound of even breaths and water swirling down the drain before Seunghyun said anything else. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, my heart skipping for a second time that morning. I turned around, palm molding to his face and slicking his hair back with the other. And when they fluttered shut, I lifted onto the balls of my feet to press a kiss over the delicate skin of each of his eyelids. “Stop apologizing. It's okay.” He gave me a smile that verged on sorrowful and returned the gesture by placing a tender kiss on my forehead. I really hoped he wasn't blaming himself for this. I'd done it to myself.  Perking up, I patted him lightly on the cheek. Today was not allowed to be tainted with sadness. “Come on. I know a good diner across town, you can stuff my face with grease and carbs, it'll be fantastic.”  I stopped the water and stepped out of the shower, Seunghyun in tow. We toweled each other off, something that had become so commonplace now that I couldn't prevent my lips from curling in a smirk. What else would become habit between us? What kinds of patterns and routines would we make our own? I hung my towel on the hook behind the door, leaning against it as I took a few seconds to appreciate the lines and curves of Seunghyun's body. “Although,” I said, reaching out to pull him close, and nipped at the lobe of his ear, “it would be much more fun if I could just eat you.” * The rest of the day was spent gallivanting around the city. After breakfast, in which I ate pancakes and not Seunghyun (much to my utter disappointment), we drove back to his hotel downtown so he could change. I sprawled out on the bed and watched him, fighting with myself as I witnessed each layer disappear one by one. The temptation to beg him to fuck me into the mattress tingled in my fingers, the demand forming somewhere in my throat. But it went unspoken. We would have plenty of opportunities for that. I was merely being selfish. “Don't look at me like that,” Seunghyun gazed down at me as we stood in the elevator, a small smile toying with his lips and swimming in the depths of his eyes. “Why?”  I smoothed a hand over his chest, the thin material of his sweater soft on my skin. Seunghyun glanced up at the ceiling, his smile growing wider and the glimmer in his eyes turning mischievous. “Cameras.” Laughing, I nudged him with my shoulder. Apparently his line of thought hadn't been any different than mine. The bastard was just better at hiding it than I was. He grasped my hand and squeezed once as we walked out into the lobby. I didn't let go until we'd made it back to the car. * The first place I took Seunghyun was the Seattle Art Museum. We wandered together through the cavernous halls and gallery spaces and getting to see the light of his avid gaze as he absorbed every detail was better than anything else I could think of. The expression on his face would shift from pensive to delighted and back again. I wondered if he was finding inspiration; wondered what pieces of art would filter through his mind and find their way to his talented fingers to be reborn as something else. Something new and uniquely Seunghyun. I was thankful for the knowledge that I would be able to see it happen for myself instead of always being curious. Our future was one and the same now and the realization made me smile.  “What?” Seunghyun's deep voice broke through my musings. “Nothing.” I shook my head, snaking an arm around his waist. “Just content.” He grinned, throwing his own arm over my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my hair as we left the building. There was no sun today, but I didn't care. Not when I had all the brightness and warmth I'd ever need standing right beside me. Even if it had been shining, Seunghyun would put its brilliance to shame. I tugged him closer as we walked and tried not to let on exactly how much I was internally psyching myself out. He'd only been here one day and to know that we had countless others ahead of us sent my heart racing. I wondered, then, if he was truly aware of just how happy he made me. Or if he ever marveled at how we'd come to find each other. Of the numerous things I would inevitably learn over the years though, it was the endless ways in which I'd learn to love him that I anticipated the most. Because I'd never ceased to want every part of who he was. And I wanted to cherish them all, if he'd let me.  Disentangling ourselves once we arrived at the car, I gave Seunghyun directions to our next destination. “Where are we going?” “You'll see.” The drive was quiet, Lake Union rolling past us as we crossed the water and continued North through Fremont. It didn't take long for us to reach Ballard and when we pulled onto one of the small residential streets I instructed him to park on the side of the road. Climbing out of the car, I stood there on the sidewalk at the corner of NW 58th and 9th and sighed. Seattle wasn't that big, and yet it had been ages since I'd come back here. My tiny little bubble made it easy to forget that I'd spent my formative years in this house. In this neighborhood. I stared at the Craftsman style home and tried not to hate the new paint job or the improvements that had been made to the garden. If my mom saw the changes, she'd probably roll her eyes and start ranting about the importance of balance and aesthetics. I huffed quietly. I missed having her here, even if she was sort of crazy. Seunghyun appeared next to me, the question of “what am I looking at?” written clearly on his face.  “This is where I grew up after my parents moved to the states,” I explained, hands worming their way into my pockets. “I haven't been here in a while. It's weird.” “It's nice. Nicer than the house I grew up in, that's for sure.” “Really? I never thought of it as nice or not nice. It was just...home.” “You're lucky,” Seunghyun heaved a sigh, looking wistfully up at the house. I watched him closely and after a moment, he glanced back down at me. “Not that the house I grew up in was awful, it was just... small. Really small.” I removed one of my hands from my pockets and twined our fingers together. “Were you happy?” “In the house? Yeah.” He nodded. “We can save my depressing stories of childhood bullying for some other time, though.”  Seunghyun paused and smiled. “It must have been great growing up in a city like this. In a house like that.” “It wasn't the house that made it great, it was the people living inside of it.” I clutched his hand a bit tighter, lifting it to my mouth to kiss his knuckles. Seunghyun gazed at me, affectionate and soft, and I pulled him with me along the sidewalk. The afternoon was dwindling and my stomach was starting to protest the lack of nutrients it had received since breakfast but I didn't want to go back yet. Especially since the sheet of gray clouds over the city had begun to break apart and the sun was peeking through in white-gold rays. My thesis project had been lurking in the back of my mind all day. I knew I couldn't shirk that responsibility no matter how much I preferred to spend every waking hour, and even the ones that weren't, with Seunghyun. Today I would allow the distraction. Tomorrow? I guess I would just have to fucking suffer. Such a hard life. I chuckled at myself and Seunghyun was surely about to ask what was so amusing when I saw it. “Holy shit,” I breathed. We'd ended up on NW Market St, not too far from where we had parked. There was a new building, all clean lines and thin wooden panels and large windows. It was incredibly modern and it was absolutely gorgeous. I noticed the “for sale” sign out front, the words “open house” printed in bold just underneath. It was like a sign from god, if god was a realtor in Seattle. Grinning, I dragged Seunghyun towards the door. “We're going in.” He laughed, jogging to keep up. “Why?” “Why not?” Seunghyun pinched my side and I yelped, slapping his hand away as we walked up the stairs into the main part of the house. The air got trapped in my lungs the moment we entered. Whoever had staged this place was clearly intent on making me drown in my own saliva, because the interior design was flawless. Except for the art on the walls, which looked like it was mass produced and sold at Ikea for more than it was worth. We said our hellos to the woman showing the house, but I escaped as soon as I could to go explore, wandering in a daze through the kitchen and the living room.  On the third floor was the bedroom and a small office. I stepped forward, treading over the rug on cautious feet, and sunk down onto the mattress. Looking out the window, I ran my fingers over the embroidery on the comforter. Dreaming of what ifs. Dreaming of home and how that word had a new meaning. So many possibilities, so many potential outcomes. We'd discussed very little of what was going to happen in the short term, our hopes for the future a bit over-bright and optimistic but I couldn't help it and I was pretty sure neither could Seunghyun. Would he move in with me? Would he get it his own place? Would we look for a new one together? I let my eyes close, lips curling at the edges. Truthfully it didn't matter. As before, I didn't need the answers to these questions because they would be given to me in time and I had an abundance of that now. A flash of giddiness erupted from the pit of my stomach. An abundance of time with him. Seunghyun's knock on the door frame startled me and I jumped.  “There's a rooftop deck.” He smiled, lips spread wide and eyes glowing. “I would have been surprised if there wasn't.” I rose from the bed and took hold of his hand. “This place is ridiculous.” Though the clouds obscured most of the sky, there was still enough visibility at the horizon line to watch the sun dip low behind the trees. Seunghyun's warm breath fanned across my cheek, his arms secured around my shoulders as I soaked in the view. “We should live here,” I said, glancing up at him. I was only partially joking. The use of “we” still gave me such a delicious shiver all the way down to my toes. It didn't bother me that our relationship had been a bit...out of the ordinary. It didn't bother me that we didn't go through the “normal” stages of meeting, dating, spending months and months together before deciding to move in and move forward. I didn't need that with Seunghyun. I just knew, in my bones, that this was right. “Already deciding what to do with my money, huh?” He laughed, resting his chin on the top of my head. “That's okay, I need somebody to help me spend it. And I agree. We should live here.” “Hold up, seriously?” I spun around in the circle of his arms, grin slowly crawling its way over my face. “Do you really mean that?” “Absolutely.” Seunghyun brushed his lips along the swell of my cheek, bringing them to the curve of my ear. “We'll just have to find a bigger place when we start our family.” The sigh that tumbled out of my lungs was as unsteady as the pounding of my heart. When we start our family. I threw myself at him, hugging him as tightly as I could because there was no way I could say anything after hearing those words. Kissing his neck, I had to hold back the urge to shout my joy from the roof we were standing on. This was still real, this was still my life. Seunghyun was still here. And he wanted a family with me. Regardless of how many times he said it, I would always feel that initial wave of disbelief before the limitless happiness swooped in and replaced it. Downstairs again, Seunghyun spoke to the realtor to express our interest. He was confident and incredibly charming and I could see even more how much he had changed. Not that those things hadn't been apparent to me, but the way he interacted with other people was so open. Friendly. None of the shy awkwardness that had existed in North Pole remained. It was adorable. “Do you accept cash?” Seunghyun asked and I clamped a hand over my mouth to prevent the mirthful cackle from spilling out. * The second my apartment door shut behind us, I was pushed against the dense wood by forceful hands. Seunghyun's body swallowed me up and his heat surrounded me. His lips bruised mine with passionate kisses as his thumbs pressed bruises into the bones of my hips. Teeth scraped the skin of my throat and I moaned, fingers fisting in long hair.  “Oh god,” I mumbled, gasping and arching off the door to get closer. With a wide palm, he stroked me through my jeans. The resulting jolt of pleasure nearly sent me to my knees. I needed less clothes. Less clothes and more friction and fuck. Seunghyun had ripped the neckline of my shirt down to lave his tongue over my collarbone. Why were we still in my hallway? I grabbed handfuls of his sweater and shoved, catapulting both of us through the small space of my living room and directly into the bedroom. Seunghyun wasted no time, divesting me of my clothes and shedding his just as fast. Our fingers and our mouths fluttered and danced over whatever expanse of skin we could latch onto. My arousal bubbled up thickly from my gut, like it had been patiently waiting for this moment all day. And I wasn't the only one. Seunghyun's growl as he threw me to the bed caused the arousal to spike and my expectation to grow heavy. He was gentle as he prepared me, but his hands trembled slightly and I knew he was holding back. I groaned when he thrust inside of me, his teeth nibbling on my bottom lip, grip strong at my waist.  “Fuck me, Seunghyun,” I whispered against his mouth and rolled my hips. “I'm not a delicate flower.” He smiled, branding my lips with a searing kiss before pulling out and flipping me over. He thrust in again, planting more kisses on my spine and the hollows between my shoulder blades. I didn't hold back either, noises of intense pleasure getting louder with every ruthless snap of his hips. I focused on the burn of satisfaction because I couldn't see his face. On the slide of his hands on my skin and the heat. So much heat.  We fell fast, Seunghyun's guttural moan buried in my hair as he came. His hand wrapped around my cock, pumping in quick, rough strokes. I cursed into the pillows, arms giving out, and in turn gave myself over to climax. The pressure and the pleasure clustered into a tight knot before fracturing and Seunghyun stroked me through each shuddering tremor until I was spent. We collapsed, limbs lazy and sated. He soothed my galloping pulse with tender fingers, running them in a repetitive caress from my head down to the small of my back. I trembled, everything still sensitive, and breathed deeply. Seunghyun's touch never left me, his caresses moving to my arms and my sides. He was going to make me fall asleep if he didn't stop. His nose rubbed against my shoulder and he dropped a sweet kiss to the curve, whispering a feather soft I love you into my skin. Cuddling closer, I hitched a leg over his hip and grinned against his cheek. “Say it again.” “I love you, Ji.” I slid my lips over his mouth, tongue flicking out to taste the echo of those words. “I love you more.” He smiled. “Impossible.” * After a quick shower, we'd finally made it to the kitchen. Luckily I actually had some things in the fridge worth using to cook dinner. I was standing at the counter chopping sticky cloves of garlic, Seunghyun manning the stove beside me. Our elbows knocked together and I ducked my head to stifle a laugh. Just like old times. “Tomorrow I want you to see the pieces that I'm hanging for my thesis show,” I murmured quietly, concentrating on the garlic. “You played a major part in their creation, after all.” “That sounds like the perfect way to spend a Monday afternoon.” My mouth slanted in a smirk. “We could do anything and you'd probably say the same.” Seunghyun stirred the contents of the pan over the burner, his own lips curving in a grin.  “True,” he agreed, curling his free hand around my waist. “But so would you.” The laugh I'd been holding burst forth and I nodded, leaning closer. The familiarity of this, the comfort and the peace of the way we were with each other, it blanketed me in pure bliss. I looked up at him, still hopelessly giddy and smiling. “And I wouldn't have it any other way,” I said, tilting my chin up to claim a slow kiss. Seunghyun's eyes returned the adoration I knew was pouring out of my own. The words my mother had spoken on the phone months ago flitted into my mind then, my sun and my moon and my stars. He was all of that and so much more. Seunghyun was my entire universe. And regardless of how much I thought I'd suffered, it was all worth it just for this. Because I wouldn't have to feel that way ever again.  I was his, and he was mine. Two and not one. Side by side, for the rest of our lives.