“Jongin-ah, why do you smoke?” Luhan’s voice was soft, yet almost disinterested as he pulled the stained bed sheet over his slight, angular figure. The skin across his chest hard hardened like ice after been sprawled over Jongin’s excessive expanse of mattress, whilst having his docile image pounded out of him in a sweated contortion of linen. Jongin had done nothing but throw him a towel he kept in a draw beside his bed after that, and then proceeded to light a joint, turning his feet over the side of the bed and staring at the blank, white wall opposite the window. Luhan sat up against the creaking headboard, watching the faint droplets of sweat slide down the lithe, bony frame of Jongin’s back. He had gotten a little thinner since they’d met, though it hadn’t worried Luhan; he’d screwed guys far closer to their deathbed than Jongin and most of them had gotten up and walked away. The question had Jongin surprised, as he threw one leg over the other and held the cigarette haphazardly between his fingers. He ran a hand through his undulating chestnut tresses, moistening each lock as he dragged the sweat into the fray of his hair.

            “Keeps me thin I guess.” Jongin snickered, the snide grin so evident in his tone, despite Luhan perched behind Jongin, still in bed and still aching from their midnight endeavors.

            “It’s disgusting, that’s what it is.” Luhan spat hypocritically, sliding over behind Jongin and putting one leg on either side of him. He pressed his bare stomach against the vagrant, dystrophic muscles of Jongin’s lumbar, with his arms linked around his middle like a daisy chain. Jongin took another long, sour breath of nicotine before letting the acid cloud slowly filter out from his cracked lips, creating a haze for the both of their lungs to revel in. To most people, Luhan’s angelic, appearance would appear genuine and sincere; a façade aided by his dedication to his medical studies and the heartfelt bat of his eyelashes to anyone he passed. But on certain days, due in no small part to Jongin’s alluring influence, Luhan would often share in the second-hand fumes of Jongin’s prolonged suicide. Though the entire innocent, submissive image wasn’t a complete misnomer; even now, as Jongin’s wasted puffs filled Luhan’s lungs, he didn’t try to avoid it, even chased it, yearned for it in a way.

            “Says the pot calling the kettle black.” Jongin retaliated, quite aptly as Luhan took in another breath of his thrift smoke.

            “Is he the reason you smoke Jongin-ah?” Luhan asked, resting his cheek along the rigid vertebrae of Jongin’s neck as he looked over at the modest photo frame on the bedside table. A genuinely smiling Jongin, something Luhan had yet to see in person, with his arm around the tenuous waist of a shorter, black-haired boy who could have been in middle school when Luhan had graduated. The two were in a long, deep kiss as fireworks burst behind them, shimmering in luminous colors of scarlet and lilac. They looked very much in love that day, and it always made Luhan jealous the way Jongin would shelter the photograph, as if it was more important than himself, and in complete truth, it was.

            “Yes and no.” Jongin answered, taking in another sharp, bitter breath from his cigarette, before crushing in the ashtray beside the photo frame. The dying smoke rose and swirled into a thick smog against the harsh bedside light, like the way your breath came out like smoke on a winter morning. “What do you care? You seem to be quite happy with my second-hand smoke, I don’t know why you complain.”

            “It’s not the cigarettes Jongin-ah,” Luhan said, in contradiction of himself. “I complain about that photo.” He pushed his groin harder against Jongin’s lower back as he sat up straight, his hands now resting in Jongin’s thighs, though he sat seemingly unmoved by the casual attitude with which Luhan almost fondled him.

            “I told you not to ask about the photo, Lulu.” Jongin warned, cross with Luhan’s cheap tricks and blatant disobedience. He pushed away Luhan’s hands, feeling himself harden under the pressure, and turned slightly to his right and away from Luhan. The smaller, inquisitive boy followed, running gentle hands over Jongin’s biceps and smoothing over the anxiety in his lover’s arms. He sweet kisses into the crook of his neck, leaving behind wet patches as he worked across from his shoulder and up his neck to the back of Jongin’s jowl.

            “Tell me about the boy in the photo Jongin. Please?” Luhan murmured as his attention became more focused on Jongin’s coy earlobe, which incessantly pulled away in a lame effort to end the gnawing onslaught of his extremities. With a harsh sigh, Jongin frowned as he bent his ear into his shoulder, rolling back to nudge Luhan away.

            “Which one?” He asked, looking at the photo with a particular disdain for the two strangers in love, their faces lit only by the crappy flash of the camera and the exploding pyrotechnics that so cheezily framed their romance.

            “The one that I didn’t meet a month ago.” Luhan frowned, poking the now sickly bones where he was overtly ticklish, causing him to jump up, flailing and slapping Luhan’s hands away acidly. “Woah, what’s up with you?”

            “Don’t touch me there Lu, I told you that already.” Jongin grumbled, again irritated at Luhan’s blatant disregard for what he’d specifically told him not to do.

            “Geez…” Luhan said, turning away and pulling his knees under his chin solemnly. His hair fell along side the corner of his eye in a Midas-gold shimmer as he looked away, and by a of luck, his rounded, sparkling eyes caught the heart that Jongin had sealed away for so long in the tomb of his decaying ribcage. The boy in the photograph had skin like mocha, with a silken and healthy glow to him, in high contrast to the thinning, crumbling idiot who smoked his life away as if it was one long, drawn out game of Russian roulette.

            “That boy,” Jongin said, looking to the photograph again, “was from a long time ago.” He crawled over and sat behind Luhan this time, wrapping his slight arms around Luhan’s shoulders, coddling his capricious paramour more gently than ever before.

            “You never talk about him Jongin-ah.” Luhan guilted, rolling into Jongin’s lithe embrace as he continued his little routine.

            “Well how about I tell you about a boy from a long time ago, who had met this other boy…” Jongin started.

Gilded sunlight peered through the sash window, the early dawn lathering the adjacent wall in a peach-like hue of orange and pink over its stock cream color. Jongin lay with his back against the plethora of pillows pressed against the sturdy headboard of their double queen, one arm over the shoulders of the boy currently resting in his chest. His other hand was clasped lightly under the other boy's hands, his light snuffles almost inaudible, but to Jongin it was like music. Waking up every morning, with his little angel under the wing of his embrace, was more than Jongin could have ever asked for.

           "Jonginnie..." The boy grumbled, reaching for the hand that his boyfriend had so teasingly confiscated, only to fail.

           "Morning baby." Jongin smiled, using the same hand to caress his soft cheekbones, brushing a small strand of hair out of his face as he did so. The smaller, yet older, boy smiled at the pet name and subsequent contact, reaching around Jongin's tense muscles and giving him a gentle squeeze.

           "Morning sweetie." He yawned at the effort it took to talk, tightening his embrace around the circumference of Jongin's hips simultaneously. The couple lay there under the safety of the down blanket, almost falling asleep again. The sun continued to rise, bringing in more unwanted light and making the room a little too hot for Jongin, but that was the price you paid when your boyfriend insisted on falling asleep to the sight of the moonlit suburban vista outside. The two would lie there at night, tangled in each other with no light, except from the luminous moon filtering in through the window, simply watching the night tick by. The occasional plane would flash in the distance, and there would be the rustling of the large cherry blossom tree situated near the cute alfresco of their backyard. In the end, it was always Jongin who broke the silence.

           "Hey Kyungsoo," he gave his boyfriend a soft kiss on the head, "do you wanna call in sick today?"

           "What? No!" Kyungsoo immediately responded, feeling flushed by the very suggestion he should skip work. "Who's gonna pay the bills if neither of us is working?"

           "Kyungie, you're too young to worry about bills and working, let's just take one day off and have some fun~" Jongin pleaded, ending that sentence with a muffled noise as he pressed a chasing kiss into Kyungsoo's ticklish neck.

           "Hey, Jonginnie! Cut it out!" He protested, squirming around in Jongin's iron clad arms, which wouldn't let get go as he continued his neck nuzzling. "Jongin stop!!" Kyungsoo squealed, the pitch causing Jongin to cease and the two to return to a more comfortable cuddle again.

           "Come on hyung, I miss you at college." Jongin begged again, clamping around Kyungsoo with a soft, hopeful hug in an effort to persuade Kyungsoo. A pair of discontented eyes looked up at him, slightly puffy from the early wake up and definitely not impressed with Jongin's proposal.

           "Damn you college boys." He sighed. "You know I can't Jongin, I've got to be in surgery today." When Jongin began to frown, Kyungsoo pulled himself up and gave Jongin a tight hug around the neck this time.

           "That's okay. But to make it up to me..." Jongin hooked Kyungsoo's jowl with his middle finger, bringing his face about for a surprise kiss, which deepened as Kyungsoo pushed his lips against Jongin's, closing his eyes and letting the moment take over. Jongin moved his leg over Kyungsoo’s hip, topping him with a slow grind as the friction between their bodies created a yearning the both of them were eager to satiate.

           “No no, Jongin! I’ve got to, get up.” Kyungsoo protested between kisses.

           “You’re already there Kyung.” The comment ended in a smack for Jongin’s arm, though it wasn’t enough to deter his efforts.

           “No, come on Jongin look at the time!” Kyungsoo looked to the alarm clock as his only reinforcements for this battle. Jongin’s gaze followed to the clock, which did leave the two little time to finish up.

           “You can multi task?” Jongin said, before moving his hands behind Kyungsoo’s knees and pulling them up with him. His arms were already around Jongin’s neck, so it was easy for him to carry Kyungsoo as he got them out of bed and against a wall.

           “You .” Kyungsoo grumbled, closing down his mouth on Jongin’s bottom lip and pulling on it with his teeth, before letting go and forcing his lips against Jongin’s again. Jongin worked his hand up the side of Kyungsoo’s boxers and grabbed as much of his behind as he could with Kyungsoo being up against a wall.

           “Well if you’re asking…” He smirked. After that, Kyungsoo smacked him hard enough for him to get the message, and to be put down; playtime was over. Since then, Jongin had moved to the kitchen and was stirring omelets about in a pan. He wore only a blue-check cotton button-up and his white boxers, lined with multicolored stars in neat rows. Kyungsoo was still in their bedroom, sitting on their shared low-rise bed with the phone pressed against his ear; work had called.

           "Y- Yes Baekhyun. I kno- yes, yes I know. Well just move me to the valve transplant at seven tomorrow morning and- No, not the double bypass - Yeah sure, I can do six, but that’s gonna lead on really late then. You owe me!” Kyungsoo waited a bit, then laughed softly. "I'll be sure to tell him. Send my love to Chanyeol and the kids... Of course! What time? Alright, I'll bring a plate. See you!" The phone clicked, and by then Jongin's famous omelets were ready and served on the dining table over from the kitchen.

           "How're the Parks?" Jongin asked as he cracked the pepper grinder over his breakfast, sitting down shortly after and looking to Kyungsoo.

           "They're doing well." He replied, leaning on the doorframe as he replied, toying with the edge of the fraying hem of Jongin's white button up. "It's Yurin's birthday this weekend, and Baekhyun's using it as an excuse to throw a cocktail party." He shrugged his hands in the air disapprovingly.

           "But Yurin's only turning five." Jongin asked, confused by the prospect of a five-year old cocktail birthday.

           "Yeah, but you know, she's having her friends over for her birthday and we're having a luncheon with the mothers, then we get to stay, clean up, put the kids to bed and then get smashed while playing strip poker with the guys." Kyungsoo came and sat down on the seat beside Jongin, to the left of the head of the table, and immediately sought out Jongin's calf with pointed toes, primly resting his elbows on the table, cheek in palm.

           "Sounds like Baekhyun." Jongin said smiling, returning Kyungsoo's teasing breakfast footsies with a clumsy foot, though over the years he'd gotten better at it. Kyungsoo on the other hand, was a born tease.

            “Oh, by the way, I’m gonna be working late on Wednesday this coming week. The list is really packed for this Wednesday, and I figured we could use the extra money for that holiday we’ve been planning.” Kyungsoo grinned.

            “Sure.” Was all Jongin had to say to that, before a comfortable silence settled in the house. The two sat there, caressing each other beneath the table and making eyes whilst there food began to go cold. Kyungsoo loved Jongin's hair, a warm brown with his natural black coming in at the roots and making a pleasant, dark contrast in sable undertones. It was parted more over to the left from Kyungsoo's view and, in his opinion, was at it's best at the bed hair stage of the day, where it fell just over one eyebrow and then made a subtle flick to avoid his eye. He envied the way that his hair could simply set itself in the most natural, beautiful ways without any effort; a total contrast to how Kyungsoo felt about his own appearance, though Jongin fervently denied it.

           "What's on your mind sweetie?" Kyungsoo asked, taking Jongin's hand in his own and his index finger over his knuckles.

           "Nothing," Jongin smiled, "let's eat." Meanwhile, Jongin regretted all too long for not saying what he'd really been thinking that morning. I love you so much Kyungsoo.

           "That's the same Chanyeol I bumped into the other day?" Luhan asked. He was now covered by the thinning bed sheets he held over his chest, the desperate linen falling in waves over his ribs and lap, leaving his slight and delicate back exposed. Jongin looked away from him, still sitting on the edge of the bed and toying with his box of cigarettes as he spoke.

           "Yeah, that's the one. He and Baekhyun have two kids they adopted, both brother and sister. Yurin's almost six now, and Yugyeom is about thirteen." He said, now threateningly opening and closing the lid of his cigarettes, as if he dare tempted another one. He couldn't chain smoke like the days before Kyungsoo, but it didn't stop him trying.

           "Sounds like quite a house." Luhan said with a hint of disdain, fidgeting slightly on his seat.

           "All I can say is poor Chanyeol. Those two are so dysfunctional I still can't believe they're raising two kids."

           "Oh, okay." Luhan sighed, relaxing again. He let go of the sheets slightly, letting them fall over his lap with his well waxed legs crossed as he lay back down, waiting to hear more of Jongin's tale.

           "But they love each other, which in the end, is what matters. Anyway..."

Jongin was strewn over the sofa in the lounge room, so unmotivated that he couldn't even be arsed to change the channel (he'd since thrown the remote at the TV when the Chinese figure skater won gold in the speed skating over the Korean girl). He'd ended up watching a drama he had absolutely no grasp of the plot, nor the inclination to sympathize with any of the air-headed characters. He'd been waiting for Kyungsoo to finish changing, since he'd cycled through about four outfits, each becoming increasingly restrained and bland.

           "How about this one?" Kyungsoo asked, though Jongin didn't know why he bothered. He stood there uncomfortable and stoic, clear enough evidence he should change into something more flamboyant and comfy; something more of Kyungsoo's style.

           "Kyungie," Jongin said, groaning as he sat up, "you look like you've been mummified in Armani."

           "Hey!" Kyungsoo squealed defensively. Jongin recoiled at the violent pitch, collecting himself before walking over to Kyungsoo and grabbing his shoulders.

           "All I'm saying is you look like you have no shape, and god knows, you have one hell of a figure baby." Kyungsoo blushed at the compliment, swaying from side to side like a child and gazing down at the floor. "Now go back in there," Jongin said, showing Kyungsoo to the door of their bedroom, "and get into the sassiest, fitted outfit you can rustle up so I can show all those es tonight who's the prettiest of them all." He grabbed Kyungsoo around the waist from behind and pressed his lips against Kyungsoo's soft neck, the recipient almost collapsing in the embrace of his boyfriend.

           "I appreciate the sentiment," Kyungsoo said with a debauched lack of breath, "but there is no way you are showcasing me today as your pretty little pet." Kyungsoo strutted off with the sass Jongin only saw in the bedroom, immediately kicking off his shoes and tilting his behind in teasing poke. The sound of a zip was heard, and soon after Kyungsoo's belt fell to the floor and his jeans were soon to follow.

           "You're such a freaking tease, you." Jongin smirked, running to catch Kyungsoo and 'help' him with the rest of his clothes. Kyungsoo didn't really have much of a say, or at least that's what he liked to let Jongin think.

An hour later,

           “Damn you Kim Jongin” was all Kyungsoo had to say since they’d both gotten dressed again and into the car on the way to the Park’s. “You and your ing dynamite body.” He added sourly.

           "'Soo, for the last time, your hair looks fine. I didn't even grab that hard!" Jongin pouted pleadingly.

           "The back of my throat disagrees Jongin."

           "Okay I didn't need to know that." Luhan flounced, falling backward into the mattress, which protested under the sudden force with a creak. It had made a particularly noisy affair, but the pleasures reaped definitely outweighed the inconvenience. Rolling his eyes, Jongin crawled over the bed and lay beside him, though Luhan still had his back turned away from him.

           "Sorry baby." Jongin held him by the waist, the way any man would hold his tenuous and delicate lover, though Luhan did his best to compose himself at the amorous contact.

            “What?” Jongin shot him a daring glance, hand in his pocket whilst the other held the bag slightly behind him.

            “You look so… girly with that bag.” Kyungsoo blushed, holding a hand over his mouth to abate the inevitable giggles. Jongin clenched the tiny rope handle of the gift bag, feeling understandably emasculated by the comment.

            “Says you with the mid-drift and the eyeliner.” He retorted, but was only met with the best comeback of all; Kyungsoo’s adorable, soaring laughter. Jongin had to conquer his innate urge to smile at the sound of Kyungsoo’s blissful laughter, trying to make a point with his tantrum. “Hey! Why don’t you carry it then, huh?”

            “No thanks.” Kyungsoo finished his chuckling and cleared his throat before speaking again. “People already know I’m gay, they’ve gotta get the same picture of you before they try and make you the next desperate house boy.” Kyungsoo winked.

            “What’s that supposed to mean?” Before he could get his answer, Baekhyun opened the door to greet the couple, looking understandably flushed.

            “Oh hey Kyungsoo! Jongin!” He said, in a heaving, yet melodious tone. He wrapped one arm around Kyungsoo whilst the other still held the door, and then gave Jongin a full hug and a kiss on the cheek. It used to make Kyungsoo passionately jealous at the intimacy Jongin and Baekhyun shared, but now he’d learned to take their odd ex-relationship ‘with a pinch of salt’ as it were.

            “Hey hey, knock it off Baek.” Jongin warned, though Baekhyun only smiled and winked in response.

            “Sometimes I wonder if I let you get away too quickly.” He almost lamented, but with a contented smile. “Come on inside, we’ve got things to eat and sadly, nothing worth drinking.” He sighed, rolling his eyes with a curt tone to match in a complete change of character.

            “Did Chanyeol call a no-go on the booze?” Jongin snickered.

            “You’d swear after the last time, he’d learn to trust my ability to behave!” Baekhyun exclaimed, strutting back into the house with the couple trailing along behind.

            “You’d swear after last time, that he would have at least remembered straddling Joonmyeon in that last game of strip poker.” Jongin said to Kyungsoo, sarcastically shrugging his shoulders.

            “If I remember right, Joonmyeon hadn’t had the best of luck that night.” Kyungsoo grinned. He could practically see the fumes burning from Baekhyun’s ears.

            “Well Baekhyun’s hand wasn’t so flash either.”

            “Well his hand no, but his-”

            “Whew! Is it hot in here or did someone invite Jongdae over?” Baekhyun smirked, fanning himself as he continued to swish his hips on his way into the kitchen. Kyungsoo’s rosy cheeks went pale underneath his concealer, but anyone who knew Kyungsoo could have seen straight past the make up.

            “You ing didn’t.” Kyungsoo growled, to which Jongin grabbed Kyungsoo by the arm in as much a civil manor as he could before he tore Baekhyun to pieces.

            “Who’s Jongdae?” Luhan asked abruptly. Jongin sighed, supposing he should probably tell the story of Kyungsoo and Jongdae, and then Baekhyun.

            “Before Baekhyun met Chanyeol, he and Kyungsoo were friends from college. I got into college a lot later than most people, so I wasn’t in the picture at this point, but through college Kyungsoo had been seeing this guy Jongdae, who will forever be remembered for cheating on Kyungsoo with Baekhyun.”

            “Ooh, nasty.” Luhan said, swirling his finger in the sheets against Jongin’s thigh, making small spirals that rose and collapsed with a transient ease that seemed to fascinate the older.

            “Well, from Kyungsoo’s point of view, yeah. He’d walked in on them with Baekhyun spread eagle and Jongdae holding onto his ankles. From my perspective it was great, Kyungsoo ran off to a bar, got blind drunk and that’s how we met.”

            “Wow, rebound much.” Luhan remarked, rather brusquely, which was something so trademark about Luhan that Jongin loved. He sat up against the headboard, careful not to lean too hard, lest the thing break behind him. Luhan laid in his lap not so quietly as they continued chatting.

            “Not really,” Jongin corrected, “we met but we didn’t date straight away. It took me months before Kyungsoo said yes.”

            “Desperate much. But I already knew that.” Jongin didn’t have to see it to know Luhan had been smirking at that remark.

            “Oh think you’re clever don’t you?” He smiled in return, to which Luhan felt a little put down, shutting up rather promptly. Though it didn’t last long, as curiosity had gotten the better of him and something bothered him.

            “So if Baekhyun took Jongdae in so quickly, how’d those two stay friends?”

            “Who knows, but those two went through some pretty tough times together. What, I don’t exactly know but… Their friendship was pretty indestructible.”

So the afternoon carried on, with small children running around the ankles of the four men and mothers, giving the odd ‘don’t touch that!’ or ‘don’t put that in your mouth!’. Jongin found it all terribly stressful, not being one for small humans or a room comprised with a majority of women, but Kyungsoo reveled in the opportunity. At work, he’d no one to gossip with but Baekhyun, so with a room full of rather chatty housewives, Kyungsoo was practically feeding off of it all. He’d also loved kids, relieving Jongin of any responsibility when a small person came and pestered him by coming to his rescue. Similarly, he’d done the same thing when a desperate housewife had tried to scoop him up in conversation. Jongin had mainly spent the afternoon sitting with Chanyeol chatting until Baekhyun or Kyungsoo (or both) ordered them around, especially when it came to clean up time, after all the extra children and parents left.

            “Appa!” Yurin beamed as she ran to her taller dad, who, in a swift move, picked her up and whisked her six feet into the air. Chanyeol wasn’t much for excessive awws or juvenile baby rambling, but when it came to his now five-year-old adoptive daughter, you were out with the business Chanyeol and in with the father Chanyeol. “Appa thank you for my pretty dress.” She smiled, hugging Chanyeol with her tiny little arms and her tiny little hands. She’d since gotten her pretty white dress sandy and dirty, but that’s to be expected when five-year-old meets home sandpit.

            “Your welcome princess.” Chanyeol said, grinning. By now most of the clean up had been differed to Jongin and Kyungsoo to a lesser extent, as the rest of the Park family congregated for ‘a moment’.

            “Come here kiddo.” Baekhyun said, holding an arm out to his adoptive twelve-year-old. Yugyeom obliged, giving his shorter dad a larger than life hug, which was very much reciprocated by Baekhyun. Though seemingly cold and apathetic, nothing could compare to Baekhyun’s love and unequivocal loyalty to his family, sometimes even more so to his adoptive children than Chanyeol.

            “You’re the best Appa.” Yugyeom stated, completely out of the blue, and yet completely in character for Yugyeom. Shy as a mouse, but when it came down to it, almost every word he said was kind and surprisingly insightful for a twelve-year-old boy. Kyungsoo had by now stopped and just watched from the kitchen as the four of them congregated in the litter-strewn alfresco of their backyard, birthday girl Yurin in Chanyeol’s arms, and Yugyeom in a familial embrace with Baekhyun, whilst in the mean time, the two proud fathers were making eyes at each other beneath the radar of their evidently oblivious children. Jongin snuck up behind his paramour, holding his waist and kissing the crook of his neck. He knew exactly what was on his mind, but given the situation, it really wasn’t that hard to guess.

            “You want your own, don’t you?” He asked, straight to the point. Kyungsoo took in a concerning breath, trying to think of ways to approach the subject lightly.

            “When we’re ready.” was all he had to say in response. For now, lying back into the warm, radiant heat of Jongin’s beating chest and letting his head fall against his shoulder was all he needed. It felt like the moment would end all too soon for the couple, which is why Jongin held on that little bit tighter and Kyungsoo leaning further into Jongin’s arms, which ended up dragging on their contact until Baekhyun spoke up.

            “Come on!” He clapped loudly, causing Jongin to jolt in his place and all attention to turn to the tiny househusband. “It’s almost bed time for you two and daddy and I have a lot of cleaning up to do before the grown-ups have their party.” Yugyeom sighed, being more in tune with the events of ‘the grown-up’s party’ than his sister.

Some hours later…

            “Good night Yugyeom!” Baekhyun hollered, closing the door after his son reciprocated the sentiment.

            “Night Yurin! Sleep well.” Chanyeol said, tucking in his little princess before stepping back into the hall and closing her bedroom door. The two got as far as the top of the stairs before Chanyeol pushed Baekhyun against the wall with a forceful thud, pressing his body over his husband. Baekhyun wriggled beneath Chanyeol, now facing him before throwing his arms over the giant’s brawny shoulders, to which Chanyeol grabbed Baekhyun’s thighs before he jumped up and clung around Chanyeol’s chest. He pressed his hasty lips against Chanyeol’s mouth, the two practically skipping the and going straight for the tongue. Baekhyun nearly tore open the buttons on Chanyeol’s charcoal shirt, getting as far as the first four before a disgruntled houseguest caught them in the act from the platform half way up the staircase.

            “Oh oh OH! Did not need to see that!” Kyungsoo cried out, running down the stairs and into Jongin’s chest.

            “Are those two going at it?” He grumbled, patting Kyungsoo’s back and cradling his boyfriend.

            “Like a surgeon and an orderly in the on-call room!” Kyungsoo’s words were muffled in Jongin’s chest, and even if he had heard them, he wasn’t fully versed in the medical terminology as Kyungsoo and Baekhyun were.

            “Give it to me simple Kyung.”

            “Worse than us!” Kyungsoo wailed.

            “That’s actually a good idea.” Jongin grabbed his own clothes, once he’d been able to find where they’d been flung to, but by the time he’d gotten to the en suite door, Luhan had promptly shut the door in his face.

            “So answer my question Jongin.” Luhan said as he unfolded his clothes. His pant legs had been turned out in the passionate fray in which Jongin had torn them from his thighs.

            “What?” Jongin had clean forgotten what Luhan’s original question had been. He drew his pullover on top of his singlet, sitting there in only the two articles of apparel, contemplating the part of their night between vigorous and recounting his last year.

            “Is he the reason you smoke?” It hadn’t been Luhan’s original line of inquiry, but it was the question he’d referred to nonetheless. Jongin sighed, doing up his fly and sitting against the door. Luhan heard the subtle thud of Jongin against the door, and for some reason felt the implicit urge to put down his clothes and just listen to what he had to say.

            “Kyungsoo was the reason for a lot of things in my life, but not the smoking. I actually stopped for him so he would like me.” He chuckled at that, remembering the last cigarette he’d had before Kyungsoo had finally said yes to their first date. Luhan grinned at the sound of his laughter. It was a soothing, and all too rare sound, which definitely made it something to treasure. Jongin had laughed before, but never in as bright a spirit as now. “I tried my hardest, but about six weeks into our relationship I couldn’t help myself. I’d picked up a pack from the store on the way home from college and it’s been one of my biggest regrets in my whole life.” Luhan had half a mind to ask why, before stopping himself. Instead, he crept down to the ground as slow as he could and leant against the door, still bare on the frigid tiled flooring. He didn’t know if Jongin could feel him on the other side of the door, but half of him hoped he could; he didn’t know why. “That look he gave me… Kyung worked a late shift that night at the hospital –he was a surgical nurse– and I’d been sitting outside so it wouldn’t make the whole house smell. But I’d gotten cocky and smoked more than half the pack that night, and Kyungsoo had come home halfway through what ended up being my last one for a long time. I’ll never forget that look…” Jongin twirled the box in his fingers, feeling something he’d never felt towards a cigarette before: disdain. He tossed the box onto the bed and turned away, resting his head against the door. He gave brief, breathy laugh before continuing. “That night, Kyungsoo pulled out the entire draw of my clothing and just tossed it outside our bedroom door, before slamming the door in my face.” Luhan held his face, suppressing a laugh at that. It amused him that he himself hadn’t been the first to slam a door in Jongin’s face, and he hoped he wouldn’t be the last. “What’s so funny?” Jongin smiled.

            “Don’t worry.” Luhan answered, his smile dissipating as a pause in the conversation ensued. Jongin waited for him to come out with the answer, but it was an effort in vain.

            “Anyway, I apologized hundreds, probably thousands of times before he let me back in our room. I apologized at breakfast, I made his favorite foods every night when he came home, I did everything, but he’d been so angry with me.” From his tone, Luhan didn’t think Jongin spoke with any pain in his voice, almost as if he’d come to terms with his past, but the bitter silence forced Luhan to think twice. “It was the flowers.” He said. Luhan perked at the comment; not because it was out of context, but because to him, flowers were a meaningless gesture. Too each his own, Luhan thought. “I didn’t buy a bouquet of fancy flowers, or a single rose. I bought him a pot, with some mulch and planted a small sapling in it. I put it beside the front door inside so he would notice it when he came home that day. It took a while for that little plant to flourish, especially since I’d planted it out of season, and I don’t think it ever got the sun it needed. But when it did, there were these beautiful little yellow buds on the end of the stems. We moved the pot to the outside alfresco area, where it got more sun. A few days later, those tiny little yellow buds blossomed into the most beautiful carnations.”

A powerful urge to reveal a tear came over Luhan, and if he hadn’t been on the other side of the bathroom door to Jongin he wouldn’t have let it go. Stupid flowers, he cursed. “Kyungsoo had returned talking to me long before those damn flowers came to bloom, but I think in a weird way, it was a good thing for our relationship. It was something neither of us really took to, and often neglected, but those little flowers were determined to make it, and they did. Luhan?” Said ice queen took in a silent breath first, answering with a callous

            “What?”

            “Nothing.” Jongin said. He sounded regretful almost, tired even. Quickly, Luhan pulled on his underwear and pants, hastily drew over his shirt and tapped on the door before opening it. Careful not to kick Jongin on his way out, he didn’t step forward. Instead, he leant down and leant against the disheveled jerk, one hand on his chest and the other in his own lap.

            “What’s with you all of a sudden?” He smiled, voice cracking a little bit. Luhan didn’t know why, until he felt a soft, warm droplet fall against his cheek as he looked up at Jongin. He smiled a crooked, one-sided grin with tears accumulating against his naturally lengthy lashes; something Luhan had been covertly jealous of, since his own lashes were more often than not artificially augmented.

            “Shut up.” Luhan said, moving his hand from Jongin’s chest to his cheek. He wiped away a tear from beneath his eye gently, a caring caress Jongin had never yet received from Luhan. But then again, tonight was something of a night of firsts. “So what happened?” The room when silent; not that anything had produced any noise in the first place, but now it seemed that all sounds had completely faded away entirely. Almost regretting the statement (a rare situation that Luhan didn’t quite know how to handle), he wanted to scratch away the last minute and go back to lovers on other sides of a bathroom door, but that wasn’t going to happen. Jongin sighed, propping himself up higher against the open door from to the bathroom. He took Luhan’s delicate hands and held them in his own, skeletal fingers, yellowing like old paper from of course, smoking.

Jongin had half of the day off from college, with an early practice session he was required to attend, and one later in the afternoon that he felt comfortable skipping. The rest of the day was spent carousing alone in the house in his sweats and watching more TV. A storm had rolled in shortly before he’d gotten home and luckily he’d avoided the rain. With six o’clock approaching, Kyungsoo’s usual knock off time after a late shift, Jongin quickly texted him about tonight’s dinner arrangements.

            To: Kyungie
Hey babe, we’re pretty low on well, everything. Can you do a quick grocery run after work? ♡

            From: Kyungie
Sorry sweetie, I’ve got one more scrub which is gonna run pretty late. Why don’t you just order us Chinese and I’ll heat it up when I get home. Love you lots babe xx

            To: Kyungie
Alrighty :( I’ll see you tonight then. Love you more!!!

Kyungsoo didn’t respond after that, probably because he had to set up for the last surgery he’d assist in. No matter, Jongin would be on the phone in about an hour to their regular Chinese joint for a delivery; probably just some chow mein and a whole bunch of egg rolls this time. Mister Xiumin was a nice old man, with an adoptive son Tao, who was paid a pittance to make deliveries well into the night. Jongin liked the kid. He always tipped him whenever he ordered late so he could pay for his Wushu lessons. Tonight he’d probably just fork over his card, since the weather was still appalling well into seven o’clock at night.

He watched some more of the drama he’d started the day of Yurin’s birthday party, with nothing better to do than wait for Kyungsoo to come home. The main character (high school girl of course) was actually quite reserved and quiet; Jongin liked her. She had this crazy best friend who at first glance was a complete but deep down, she was actually just a spunky little girl who used to sass to avoid getting hurt. The main character was almost too quiet for the story to develop, until either of her two crushes waltzed in the screen, and then she was off, blushing, flirting and twirling her toes against the linoleum flooring of her high school. It was all quite romantic.

Just over another whole hour had gone by, and Kyungsoo still wasn’t home. Jongin sent him another text, telling him his chow mein was getting cold and the egg rolls were quickly being devoured. No response; something felt wrong. Jongin checked the clock, which read 8:02PM. Kyungsoo should have been out of theatre by now, so Jongin figured he’d give him a call. The tone rang until he’d hit voice mail.

            “Hey Kyungie, sorry if you’re still at work, but dinner’s getting cold. Call me back, okay sweetie?” A few seconds later, Kyungsoo rang back, but with unexpected results. “Kyungie?"

            “I’m sorry, Jongin is it?” A huffing voice spoke over the other end. The voice raised Jongin’s eyebrows; it wasn’t Kyungsoo’s voice that was for sure.

            “Y-yeah, who’s this?”

            “I’m sorry Jongin, my name is Doctor Nam.”

Kyungsoo had been on his way home from work, after assisting on a double bypass surgery. On his drive back home, he’d been crossing an intersection when an SUV had lost control and hydroplaned across the road into Kyungsoo’s side of the car. Paramedics had gotten on site within minutes, but even then the odds weren’t good. Kyungsoo had been driven back the way he’d come from to the hospital where he was admitted to ER, and declared dead at 8:02PM, Wednesday the 11^th January 2012.

The funeral was small, only Kyungsoo’s family along with the Park’s and some associated friends. Jongin gave the eulogy, but so much went unsaid that day. Not a day went by for months when Jongin didn’t visit the cemetery; it was a nice cemetery. Many flowers grew naturally near the benches, which looked so much more vibrant than the trimmed packages set down by each stone. The sheer size of the site was enough to bring one to tears, let alone knowing that half of your own soul lay buried deep beneath it’s soil.

Luhan spent the night consoling a Jongin wracked with tears that never seemed to stop. He held him as he cradled the poor boy in his lap, rocking back and forth on the floor of his dank apartment while he cried to the point of exhaustion. He spent the night with Jongin curled in his stomach in the giant double bed, but never slept. Half way through the night, he grabbed his bag and his coat and penned a small letter left beside the photograph on Jongin’s bedside table before leaving.

            Dear Jongin,

You know I’m not one for words, which is why I’ve left this note for you. I never intended on becoming so important to you, but after you opened up to me about Kyungsoo, I was completely stunned. I almost felt bad for asking, but I’m so touched that you chose to share such a part of your history with me. But here’s what you have to understand.

I know you were completely in love with Kyungsoo, and I’m not trying to detract from that, but you need to understand you can move on. You’re not bound to him anymore, feeling sorry for yourself isn’t going to bring him back and it sure as hell isn’t doing you any good. You sit there, day in day out ing every that bats their eyelashes at you (and I’m no exception) and smoking your lungs into oblivion. Here’s a tip Jongin; you’re young, get off your and get out into the world. There are corners of this world that stretch beyond that ty little apartment of yours, there are worlds that go beyond that cemetery. Nothing in this world pisses me off more than a waste of life. So many people fight for the opportunity you have, the opportunity to live. And you just sit there and freely submit your life to a painful and uncertain death.

Don’t mourn the loss, celebrate the life. And celebrate your own, you deserve it.

Ever thought of travelling?

--Luhan