Ilhoon’s eyes were fluttered shut, eyelashes dusting slightly over the top of his cheeks as he listened steadily to the heartbeat of his friend’s chest. He counted them with each passing second between them and repeated whenever he was too lost in the melting warmth of his arms. It was as if he holding on to a moment that would disappear quicker than he wanted it too. He wanted to stay this way and just capture this moment because it wasn’t something he would tire of - no, this was a welcomed feeling of relief and comfort. He was enraptured by his own feathering feelings of joy that he hadn’t even noticed the way his eyes were swelling up with unspilled tears with his fingertips digging into the fabric of Sanggil’s shirt. He would be lying if he said he never dreamed of this.
”No more dreams.”
Was his only response to that as the visible form of a frown was being etched into the soft texture of his lips from being pulled away from slightly. By then, he had blinked away the want to cry to stare up at the other with dry eyes of curiosity. The moment he met Sanggil’s smile, was the moment he thought he would explode from finally achieving something he hadn’t ever. It only took him to leave for a year or so and come back and if that was the case —- he would have to find another way to make the male smile because he didn’t think he could handle another year away from someone he cared about. It was tough as it was being away from his older sister since he was sixteen. Now that he thought about it, what kind of person was he for seeing Sanggil first over his sister? Then again, he had no right to see his family after what had transpired years ago.
Ilhoon stood there like a a fish gasping for air as he started in shock because the way the smile - as faint as it was - brightened up his face. It was almost astounding to his vision and at one point he rubbed his eyes to see whether or not he was seeing correctly (he only used one hand because he didn’t find it natural to let go of him fully). “We’re finally seeing each other again and you’re already talking dirty to me, hyung?” That statement was a random jumbled sentence that flew out of his mouth without thinking — much like it always did and he ended up slowly giving the tall male that goofy grin of his own before finding all the right impulses to press his hands to his cheeks and steal the smile from his lip by kissing him.
Ilhoon had no real self-restraint when it came to the normal things of everyday living because it wasn’t like he was actually taught these things. Being raised in the den with other assassin’s, he was taught what he could and remembered what his family had taught him. The only problem was that Ilhoon was an untamed child who liked to do things for laughs and smiles. It was always a shock when he was on a mission to detain and or exterminate a Templar and those who worked with him gave him that much credit into becoming someone completely different in predator mode. Minki had a lot to deal with back home whenever Ilhoon was around but somewhere deep in Ilhoon’s head, he knew that Minki adored him. Maybe.
The kiss was kept short and lingering, playful affection, and a friendly behavior and when he parted from him he gazed up at those eyes and tilted his head a tad. “Don’t tell me you didn’t want that.” It was a whisper, his ever usual upbeat tone filing into those words with a crisp undertone of deepness which had been surprising for even himself. He’d grown a lot in someways, but never really lost his kid like essence.
— Between moments of aching loss, all those months ago, Sanggil had found light in his existence. Because Ilhoon had attached himself like a band-aid and no matter how much Sanggil tried to tear it away, he couldn’t. And in the end he had left it be, because separation would hurt too much. His mind had turned in strange directions, thoughts twisting into painfully familiar fragments of something he despised — something that evoked fear, drew it out from the deepest corner of his heart and mind. After caring for someone for seven years, after constantly keeping them by his side only to see them lose their life before it even begun, nothing had ever scared him that much. Nothing had ever made him feel as broken. It was as if the fortress he had built around his own weaknesses had crumbled into bitter pieces and he had found himself staring at the white of a hospital wall for an entire month, without properly opening his mouth to anyone who came to see him. Only answering questions with curt responses, facts and not a single trace of emotion. Because at that moment, Sanggil had been dead inside. As dead as he ever could be. His insides felt rotten. Convinced that he should have been the one dying in that car accident, convinced it was his own wrongdoings that had caused this, of course he had been consumed by guilt. It had taken him months to leave their shared apartment after being discharged, not daring to enter Hamin’s room before the day he moved, to pack up his things. There was nobody else who could do it, Sanggil had been his only family since the age of thirteen. He had fallen asleep with sore cheeks and puffy eyes that night, exhausted as he had clutched a small book to his chest, without lock nor key. Eased draws of a pencil rested within, words written in ink. It had broken him all over again, as he shamelessly read it from beginning to end. Uncovering secrets, unspoken words. Realizing, he hadn’t been alone. Realizing that…
Their emotions had matched one another’s —
that they had been each other’s first love.
That scar lingered still, etched onto pale skin, together with traces of shattered class that had pierced his skin and broken his bones, together with the words inked to his skin in memorial. These memories still made him feel something akin to gruesome fear at night, when he found himself alone amidst solid darkness, because in the end, such immense guilt had led him to end himself, by ingesting arsenic. It remained to be his own personal plague, every single time even the smallest spark of affection was lit for someone, he threw profanities at them, grew ruder than before because it was his his way of distancing himself, it always would be. Because ultimately, his hostile exterior was accompanied by fear. Sanggil, was afraid. But he hadn’t been able to push Ilhoon away like that, not in the same obvious way. Everything had been too quick, the way the need of protecting something that seemed so genuine had rooted itself in his chest, it had thrown him off his own feet. He had doubted his own decisions many times over, but in the end felt content with being so close, albeit it maybe being strange. He had monitored everything, and it had made him feel safe within the confinements of growing attachment and care. Only to end up having it ripped away from him all over again when Ilhoon left.
That day, he had stuffed his broken memories and his aching soul in beneath his bed, into the shoebox where he still kept Hamin’s diary and the few belongings of his he hadn’t been able to get rid of. But right at that moment, as he remained in the younger male’s embrace, as they stood so close and he listened to the sound of a familiar voice, it was as if the lid had flew off, as if he had been exposed to every single emotion that he had tried to push away for so long and it mace everything ache, in a manner unrecognizable to the fibers of his body. “ No more dreams. ” He repeated silently, with the most subtle of nods and for a second, he wondered what he’d do with himself after this, how would he manage the cascade of emotions that would wash over him the moment he was left alone again?
But he smiled either way, because within his own little core, there was warmth and happiness and everything he hadn’t allowed himself to feel for months and it warmed him up. Breaking down his personal chaos little by little, but scarcely. It wouldn’t last for long enough, be strong enough to defeat the reoccurring bouts of darkness that overcome him long ago, when his father’s behavior had still been abusive towards him and the rest of family. He shook those thoughts away however, as watching Ilhoon rub at his eyes and almost chuckling briefly at the action itself. Because it was sweet, it really was. And Sanggil knew he had granted a wish. It made him feel good about himself — no matter how twisted. " I always talk dirty, I thought you knew. “ Then there’s the press of lips to his own, only moments later and hues of hazel grow wide in sheer surprise and he almost stumbled backwards. But he hindered himself, because he knew he didn’t mind, knew that if he’d been given a few more minutes, he would probably have thought of this himself. So his response remained to be positive, fingers curling further into fabric until the moment lips parted to give room for breathing. He hadn’t even realized his eyes had fallen shut, and as they reopened, as he faced the younger yet again.
” Can’t tell you that, It’d be an ugly lie. “ He shrugged his shoulders lazily, grin yet again etching onto his features as he stepped back, raising a hand to rub at his forehead. ” Suppose I should invite you inside yeah? “ He then said, twisting his lips into a small grimace before turning around to walk in through his own open door. The apartment was still quite new, modern and speaking of money even though not exactly located at the most desirable place. Polished and clean on the inside, but not exactly pretty on the outside. Somehow, Sanggil’s exact opposite. But it was still obvious that he rarely let himself linger for too long within those walls, that he merely came and went. Mostly for sleep or food. Because he couldn’t handle the echoes of solitude. Not when he knew it’d be accompanied by screaming voices he couldn’t shut out.
” Want some coffee?“
He turned his head, glanced back at the younger male, eyes half-lidded as fingers automatically traced over his own ribs.
” I was about to have a cup when you interrupted me. “
He snorted in amusement, to make sure Ilhoon knew he was just teasing, turning back to head towards his kitchen.
” Lock the door behind you. “