Chapter Text
It starts with a bad omen.
Something evil in the air.
Mostly Soobin’s presence looming over him, devilishly looking over Taehyun’s hands to witness what he created. Written in a scrap piece of paper, it’s Soobin’s questionable calligraphy. His little hangul written messily, Taehyun’s sweaty finger smudging the blue brush strokes, and an inscription of you will fall in love with a Wasian in 2025.
What in the world?
Taehyun squints at the paper again, waiting for it to change. To tell him his lucky number. To have a normal fortune. Because what in the world is you will fall in love with a Wasian in 2025. The number of Wasian people he knows? Limited. Probably a maximum of five people if he digs into his brain hard enough.
“What the fuck,” he frowns, a little out of breath. Soobin still seems satisfied with himself, content that Taehyun seemingly picked a fortune in the first place, “Aren’t these supposed to be—I don’t know. Vague?”
Soobin squints at him, confused when his mouth scrunches into a tight line, “What are you talking about?”
Taehyun crumples the paper in his palm. He pinches the space between his eyebrows, strained and pained when he says, “Don’t these things usually say stuff like: you will have a great amount of money in 20 years, you will find love with time, your year will be great, or even— you will live a happy life.”
“Well, no.” Soobin offers Taehyun a hard look.
“What if I don’t want to wish you a good year? Or, I don’t know,” Soobin resolutely answers and thinks to himself for a moment, rubbing the bottom of his chin before he shrugs, “Maybe I just don’t like you. That’s it.”
Frown even deeper, Taehyun tries to not strangle Soobin in this minute. Key word is tries because Soobin’s hard to bear with on most days and going to hell on his worser ones.
“Okay, but I don’t even like Wasians,” Taehyun explains because it’s true.
The number of Wasian’s he’s fallen in love with? Zero; they’re nonexistent.
There’s some list of crushes in his diaries, and no Wasian has ever rocked his world before.
“You had a crush on your TA Vernon.” Soobin comments unhelpfully.
He collects his little jar of handmade paper-star fortunes from Taehyun and settles down to take the seat in front of him. Some person at the cafe can probably overhear Soobin expose Taehyun’s deepest and darkest secrets made from a formerly mentally-ill Taehyun, so he prays to whatever god that Soobin will be struck down by lightning.
“Yeah—” Taehyun hisses, “but those kinds are the delusional ones. Like, ‘oh he has a boyfriend, let me beg to be in their threesome on Twitter’, it's not falling in love with a Wasian is your future type of love.”
There’s something about Stockholm syndrome behind the development of that crush, being forced to look at your hot TA for hours when he handed back your pop-quiz with the score 14/20 and a comment of try looking harder next time at the musical theory techniques in chapter 12.8.
He made out with a printed out picture of Vernon as a joke in front of Soobin in confidence, laughed about wanting a sugar daddy during finals week, suggested going to the Engineering building for a future husband — but they exist as acts separate from Taehyun’s consciousness. Things that should not to be used and exploited for Soobin’s haphazardly made fortune telling business.
“It’s not my fault you chose a weird fate,” Soobin reasons. He sips on his Americano, and his eyes evidently look at Taehyun, attempting to emphasize his point.
“It’s not fate—” Taehyun hisses. He tosses his hands up in the air, frustrated, a second from really strangling Soobin for good measure. “Fate implies something’s going to happen. Your personality for example? That warrants you going to hell.”
“Can you please stop being homophobic?” Soobin pouts. “You should stop telling gay people to go to hell.”
Taehyun’s frown deepens. “I literally didn’t say that. Stop lying or else you’re really going to hell.”
“Okay, okay, fine,” Soobin sighs, exacerbated. Leaning back in his chair, he takes a hard look at the fortune in Taehyun’s hands, contemplating before he says, “I’ll start thinking about the Wasians you know. Y’know, help you get started on this fate thing.”
“Please don’t. I think you’re going to curse me at this rate,” Taehyun groans.
Additionally, how accurate are Soobin’s predictions even? Soobin has a failure rate of 0%, but his success rate is also 0%, so Taehyun’s doubtful that the falling in love with Wasians comment is going to flourish into something real.
Soobin’s fingers drum against his forehead. “I’m thinking—”
“That’s rare.”
Eyes closed shut, Soobin takes his pointer finger out and shoves it in Taehyun’s face, attempting to silence Taehyun in the midst of his pondering. “Your Advanced Musical Theory TA.”
“I already said no to Vernon.”
“Oh.”
Then, eyes open, pupils now facing Taehyun, and Soobin’s face shifts into a seriousness. A reality shifting realization if anything. It’s compelling to say the least, drawing for Taehyun to witness. Soobin rarely studies for classes, depending on the final to save himself, and, somehow, he scrapes by every single time. Intense focus, devoted concentration, a will and a final plea to pass, and Taehyun’s witnessing to attention and dedication placed onto himself.
“Your neighbor.”
Huening Kai.
Taehyun almost jolts back.
Huening Kai.
Taehyun repeats the name in his head, some sort of reality, some existent curse. Soobin’s done it—cursed Taehyun in the split second he could. Huening Kai— Taehyun’s best friend that shouldn’t even exist as a romantic prospect in his mind.
It’s wrong to think that—to even suggest the thought in itself. Taehyun, in the limited years he’s had on Earth, knows there’s a curse with even falling for your best friend, believing in love from it, searching for something in Huening Kai. Thousands of reddit threads titled with I fell in love with my best friend and it ruined my life, and memories flood back of his sister crying into his shoulder, warning Taehyun about the consequences of falling for a boy who never loved you. There’s a curse, a bad omen, some Buddhist temple that Taehyun needs to visit to pray away the evil spirit Soobin’s casted.
Face completely shifting into a frown, he shakes his head furiously.
“No.” Taehyun snappily comments before kicking Soobin’s shin.
“What in the world are you saying?”
“Well,” Soobin answers, ignoring Taehyun’s attempts to step on his foot. He takes another quick sip from his straw. “He is Wasian.”
“He’s my best friend,” Taehyun argues, fists becoming tight, and his eyes are stern. There’s an undeniable tension in his face, an uncontrollable fight that’s about to brew within him. Soobin’s getting into territories he doesn’t even know, invading places he shouldn’t encroach on.
Huening Kai —he’s not some guy Taehyun’s supposed to fall in love with. He’s real, a person, Taehyun’s soulmate on most days. He means the stars and moon sometimes, the world to Taehyun when he doesn’t believe in anything, his neighbor before all else.
Witnessing the sudden change in mood, Soobin leans back, taking a deep breath in and out. “Listen, it’s just a suggestion, Hyunnie. Nothing more, nothing less. I’m just saying, maybe think about him.”
“Okay, but why would you even say that?” Taehyun huffs.
Soobin shrugs. “I mean, he moved in around last August, and you’ve been celibate for the past year.”
Taehyun squints his eyes. “My sex life is not related to Kai.”
A look of doubt from Soobin, face scrunching just to show his disapproval.
“I don’t know, Hyunnie,” Soobin states; he stares at Taehyun, trying to recall a memory. “You started hyperventilating at the thought of going on a date recently without Kai.”
Taehyun wrangles his hands together, ready to attack.
“You asked to set me up during the peak of my midterms.” Taehyun rolls his eyes, “I’m pretty sure I would’ve freaked out at anything you said.”
“Well, what I’m really trying to say is,” Soobin takes another slurp of his Americano in one hand and uses the other to smooth out Taehyun’s crumpled fortune. “Maybe think about him more. You seem to like him a lot.”
“That’s because he’s my best friend!” Taehyun reminds Soobin because that fact seems to escape his mind. Best friends—there are rules to best friendships.
For someone so well connected, that idea—that best friendships have rules, contingencies, limitations—seems to evade Soobin’s mind. Taehyun’s about to make this into a deeper fight for something that doesn’t matter in the grand scheme of the world, but he’s almost compelled to. For himself, for Kai, for their friendship.
He hisses underneath his breath, “Of course I’m going to think about him all the time.”
Done with the argument he started, Soobin sighs. He picks up their strawberry cream cake and makes no effort to split it, offering the pastry in its entirety to Taehyun. “Just focus on eating.”
And, because he’s hungry enough, Taehyun takes a spoonful of it. Fuck Soobin—he doesn’t know anything about the rules of friendships, love, everything Huening Kai means.
11 September 2024
From Soobin
Waiting for that #wasianawakening
💋
To Soobin
please stop
From Soobin
[attachment.jpg]
ok on my old tinder
Whats ur age range
To Soobin
what in the world
wait
DO NOT USE MY INSTA PICTURES
From Soobin
oh….
To Soobin
[CALL DECLINED]
SOOBIN
✊
Taehyun’s first love isn’t a boy.
Sort of.
It’s English.
When his parents leave the Bible in his room, when Taehyun traces the lines in and out, when he rewrites certain scenes that make him believe and preach, Taehyun learns to love English. The creation of stories, feeling, and thought. His heart bleeds a little when he cuts himself with paper and cramps his hand so much. His parents disapprove of it all; they speak of it as a simple thing, something that will pass in time.
And—maybe, just maybe—they’re a little right.
His first story is terrible. Trash. Purple prose everywhere. Nothing noteworthy. It comes—from the time a boy kissed him at 14. They were under some bleachers back then; Taehyun thinks his name was Sangwoo.
Sangwoo was beautiful; well, as beautiful as a 14 year old boy could be when he occasionally dabbles in football, has broad enough shoulders, and lets Taehyun stick his tongue in. It’s just a secret between the two of them; something that won’t exist later.
Except, Sangwoo—his eyes keep darting towards Taehyun. He keeps their fingertips intertwined when no one’s looking. Subtly—that’s the existence of every gay in South Korea. Wanting—the most beautiful thing Taehyun knows.
And he—he dreams about it so much. He thinks about it too much. When his fingers brush his lips, try to remember the press of cracked lips on top of his, the rough stubble that teenage boys forget the shave, imagines some future where he could kiss some guy with a beard, he giggles too hard. Too much.
It’s so much—the searing feeling in his chest. The closest thing he’s touched to love. And he writes about it. About a boy who might kiss him at midnight, what it’s like to feel a rock hard chest, how he finally allows himself to breathe.
Oct 28, 2020
Subject: do you remember me
taehyun <[email protected]>
I—i remembered your email all these years. Actually, that’s a lie. I wrote it down, somewhere in my notes app. Clicked it. Found you again by accident. But I think about you. More than i should. It’s bad—right? I miss you, though.
It might appear as if Taehyun’s protective over Kai, but he’s not.
Not really.
In all truth, he’s not entirely sure; Taehyun isn’t given time to process the idea as Hobak meows through the door, scratching it when Taehyun’s keys jingle loud enough and sensing his presence. Hobak bumps his head against Taehyun’s lower calf when it finally opens, rubbing and letting out gentle sounds.
The purrs soothe his heart a bit, make up space in between the breaths of silence.
Taehyun smiles. Soobin kept him for a while, their catch up session running later than he anticipated. Apparently there’s someone special in Soobin’s life, someone Taehyun should be expecting in time, but Soobin’s always been the type to exist flamboyantly in love. They’ve known each other since high school, and Taehyun can count the number of times he’s watched Soobin flirt, confess, and then break up when the time comes.
However, Soobin this time believes in waiting. He wills himself to believe in love, and Taehyun should wait too.
“Hobak,” Taehyun starts.
There’s only the gentle glow of light from his lamp, the little space carved out in his apartment for Hobak, a messy pile of clothes in the corner, but it’s Taehyun’s life. This simplicity, the only things he could afford since living in the big city. Seoul—it took a piece of him. He’s not sure which piece, but Hobak stares back at him, expectant and waiting.
He bites his lip. It’s almost scabbed and red, but Hobak never minds. “Do you think I’m lonely?”
Hobak blinks for a second, opening his mouth, and then quickly running his head against Taehyun’s leg again. No real answer, but Hobak spends more nights waiting for Taehyun at the door, rationing out his food bowls for lunch and dinner. Rarely do Soobin’s words make a difference in Taehyun’s life, but even Hobak knows that Taehyun’s been striking out on dates.
However, there’s a difference between welcoming love versus rejecting it. The last two were done blindly, after some girl confessed a crush, when some guy wanted Taehyun in a bar. But, no one’s really worth it—not enough for Hobak to witness or to bring home or to know. Not really anyways.
“I love you a lot, Hobak,” Taehyun sighs. His hand trails from Hobak’s head to his stomach, offering kind pats and rubs in return.
Hobak, even if it’s not real words, meows just for good measure.
Then, like clockwork, Taehyun’s doorbell rings. Oh , he forgot about that.
Walking back to the door, Hobak follows Taehyun’s steps, trying to peek through the little slit of space between Taehyun’s legs and the door. Taehyun does the best he can to maintain that sliver of distance between Hobak and the person.
Hair bleached blue, hands a little rough from calluses, and Taehyun’s greeted with Domino’s pizza.
“I’m here,” Kai grins, glowing slightly against the background from the front light.
His mouth—it’s always round in the corners, something so second-natured for him. It’s sort of annoying, but Taehyun’s heart has grown fonder over the months. Pearly white teeth flash, and Taehyun ignores the sharp angle of Kai’s jaw.
“I can see that,” Taehyun unhelpfully comments. Hobak tries to push past his legs, but Taehyun’s stance is unwavering. “Give me a second, I need to put Hobak back in my room.”
Hobak makes a noise from the mere mention of his name, and Taehyun stops himself from cooing. And Kai, taking notice, tries to reach out to Hobak before Taehyun lightly slaps his hand, offering a stern gaze that says no .
“Come on,” Kai begs. He’s wearing his usual loose black shirt and sweatpants. It’s remarkable that his shoulders are still broad enough to be outlined through the fabric, and Taehyun’s mouth draws into a tight line.
“I’ve been over for months. Maybe he’ll actually like me.”
“Oh, no,” Taehyun resolutely shakes his head. “Hobak rarely likes anyone. He scratched my mother the first time they met.”
Kai, out of all the people Taehyun knows, may be one of the kindest people the world’s ever witnessed, but Hobak is a natural hater. A little bit of a devil-spawn, yet the most important thing Taehyun cherishes. The two meeting is akin to worlds colliding—impossible, unreal, and unfeasible considering how bratty Hobak is. Hobak, for all his three years of life, has always been kind and loving to Taehyun, while quickly becoming evil and sour in the presence of another person. Hissing and scratching at every moment.
Hobak rubs particularly hard, yearning for Taehyun’s full attention before he releases a breath of air. Collecting Hobak’s little body in arms and using the door to temporarily shut Kai out, Taehyun coos at Hobak, offers some treat, and seals him in his bedroom.
Welcoming Kai back in, Taehyun finally collapses onto his couch. The TV is still on the news channel, reporting about the new pope, Jesus, and how America has doomed the rest of the world to Catholicism. And Kai—he isn’t really doing anything. Just watching Taehyun, the weight on his shoulders, and knitting his eyebrows in worry.
“Everything alright?”
He takes his place next to Taehyun, their legs squished together. The heat from Taehyun’s skin touches Kai’s, a slight shiver comes and goes, and Kai makes no effort to move. The couch isn’t meant to support two people; Taehyun bought it off an elderly couple’s yard sale, but, despite how Kai takes up more than half the space, here is their designated spot in Taehyun’s apartment.
It’s their weekly Animal Planet documentary about snakes, and Taehyun’s likely ruining this space in time dedicated to Kai, but there’s so few people in this world he lets himself crumble to. And Kai’s just there. Holding his laptop in one hand, and the other wrapped around Taehyun’s shoulder.
“Why are you asking?”
“You seem a bit—” Kai contemplates to himself for a bit, glancing at the ceiling before continuing on, “stressed.”
Taehyun sighs, hands running down his face. “Soobin—he’s being weird again.”
“Oh!” Kai quickly lights up. “You should say hi to him for me. I miss him.”
“I’d rather not,” Taehyun’s head falls against Kai’s shoulder. It’s strong and there. A natural action between the two of them. “That implies I have to talk to him again.”
Pouting, Kai rubs some circles against Taehyun’s shoulder, “Aw.”
Tangerines. It smells like tangerines.
His hand moves down to Taehyun’s waist, bringing them closer together. Some fingers drum against Taehyun’s side, a natural tick that Taehyun’s noticed over time. A habitual comfort just for them.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
His movements stutter. Blinking unnaturally at Kai, and some piece of his brain tries to register it all. They don’t—they never really talk about these kinds of things. Taehyun’s sex life. Their romantic endeavors. The fact Taehyun hasn’t fucked someone for so long.
Taehyun supposes—to an extent—it’s normal to discuss these matters between best friends. However, there’s something strange with whatever Soobin implied. You’ve been cellibate for over a year— maybe Taehyun wanted to experience empathy for virgins. It’s just—the implication of everything. That Kai’s become an existing reason he’s stopped searching. The thought makes his face scrunch, an unsettling feeling residing within Taehyun’s chest. He knows love, the feeling, when he’s crushing on someone so hard. But Kai—the emotions are completely different.
It’s not weird, though. Right? Taehyun should be allowed to discuss about the boys he kisses without shame to his best friend, the men he’s wanted in some capacity to Kai. He’s allowed to, permitted to even.
Tangerines.
Something falters in his heart. Taehyun can’t entirely place the feeling, yet Kai looks at him, traces the fine lines of worry on Taehyun’s face, tries to understand even if he only has pieces, looks for the good inside of him.
Hesitant but willing enough, Taehyun slowly murmurs, “Soobin’s trying to set me up again.”
“Oh.” Kai’s eyes widen like saucers, unblinking and gradually understanding the gravity of Taehyun’s thoughts.
“But,” Taehyun bites the inside of his cheek, “I’m not in that stage of my life.”
“Really?”
“I mean,” Taehyun draws in a sharp breath, feeling his breath drift away in time.
Kai—someone his age, someone who regularly receives confessions from boys on Instagram—probably doesn’t understand Taehyun at this moment. There’s a trying act—the fact he observes Taehyun this closely, rubs more circles in his waist, watches and listens.
It’s something embarrassing, childish when Taehyun admits, “I’m not that young anymore, so I don’t really have the heart to meet up and date people again.”
Slowly nodding, Kai answers, “I see.”
“And Soobin, well, he’s just being annoying.” Taehyun’s arms fold together just to make a point. “Soobin’s convinced that I’m going to fall in love with this—” Taehyun squints his eyes for a second, raising his fists to the air in frustration “—this Wasian guy.”
Kai raises an eyebrow. “You are?
Taehyun shakes his head. “Well no. Truth be told, I really don’t know. I don’t even like Wasians that much.”
“I see,” Kai tries to not seem confused. His eyebrows pinch together. “I mean, Soobin probably just wants the best for you”.
“I know. It’s just—” Taehyun looks at his hands.
The best Soobin brought up? It can’t be that. Kai—he can’t know. Taehyun, he’s kissed a thousand girls before, he’s broken more hearts from his middle school poetry, and he’s not crazy enough to change the thing most stagnant and still in his life.
Because it’s Kai’s running list of Barbie Movies to watch, their ice skating lessons they placed on hold because Taehyun got too busy, and their dinners together. There’s something wrong, sinful, terrible about overstepping boundaries and lines in the rules of friendship. To think about kissing your best friend, to hold his hand with meaning, to make their nightly routines be something more than companionship.
Kai—he’s more than a friend, more of a reality Taehyun can’t sacrifice. If Taehyun changes, that means everything meaningful, every existent piece of his life changes.
And, that’s too much. So much to lose. So much to waste.
So, Taehyun answers honestly, “I don’t really know if I want it right now.”
A beat of silence passes, and Taehyun’s about to say something, but Kai starts first, hand around his waist tightening in a split-second.
Tangerines.
“Hey,” Kai tips up the bottom to Taehyun’s chin. A kind gesture if anything, recentering Taehyun back into the present. “Let’s just watch the new episode on cod snakes. We don’t have to focus on everything right now.”
“Okay,” Taehyun sighs. He recreates the distance between them, letting out a huff of air. It’s probably for the best.
Taking his hands back, Kai swiftly types in the new episode of Animal Planet into Hulu, settles his laptop on the table, and points, wrapping his arms around Taehyun’s bicep whenever there’s a particularly large snake on screen.
And, through the dim lighting and David Attenborough’s narration, Taehyun tries his best to remain present. Focus on Kai’s leg against his. Or something, but he’s tracing back to the thought again. To Huening Kai. Because what in the world does think about him more mean?
Kai. He already makes up a majority of Taehyun’s thoughts, but in a best friend kind of way. The first person he texts when he’s convinced the world’s ending? Kai. The terrible review he’s about to publish on Rate My Professor? Kai probably looked it over, forced him to cut out the harsher remarks. His weekends? Hobak and Kai.
So, in general, Kai doesn’t take up all of his thoughts. Not purposefully on Taehyun's part at least. He just naturally ends up being there. Coincidentally.
And Huening Kai. He’s—well. Taehyun’s brain works faster than his heart because he knows. When his eyes flicker on for too long, he knows. Huening Kai—he’s beautiful. It’s only his brain, being so well adjusted to Huening Kai’s visual prowess, but there’s something sharp and strong about him. The high cheek bones, the cheeky smile round on the corners, the slight nose bump from the time Kai ran into a wall. It’s all—encapsulating. Taking. Taehyun’s not very sure what he’s doing, staring at Kai, thinking of things he really should forget, but it’s Soobin’s fault.
Some strong muscle tenses around him. He can just feel it—the subtle way Kai has been changing around him. It’s strange. Strange, strange.
But he’s not—Kai isn’t. He’s just this guy. Moon and stars or something. Taehyun’s not very sure, and he might say something stupid if he thinks for too long, so he chooses to ignore it.
When it gets cold enough, Taehyun fetches the heated blanket for them to share. Kai, because he’s big and lanky and makes up more than half the couch, always takes more than Taehyun.
Except, it’s soft when he laughs at Taehyun’s tight expression, eyebrows knit together. Eventually, he surrenders some space, allows Taehyun’s thigh to rest on his own, and says underneath his breath, “Thank you.”
May 7, 2021
Thank you for declining your spot at Daedong College. We wish you the best of luck.
May 9, 2021
Subject: where am i going
taehyun <[email protected]>
I ended up in yonsei, rejected this writing scholarship at a smaller school that i loved for a while. It’s strange—i don’t think i really belong there. Big cities and everything. My cousin says it’s good to be in the big city; opportunities, life, wanting----they all exist there. But, in my heart, i don't want a big city; i want to live in a library, stowed away for a while, touched by someone who opens me up and doesn't return. Tell me hi one day?
Second year. Hot and searing; too familiar to Seoul to be a stranger, too distant from everyone to be a friend.
And Kai comes into his life like a stumbling storm.
Actually, that’s an ambitious string of words.
What Taehyun means is that Kai—he is strange. A strange stranger. He plays 5 Seconds of Summer too loudly, sometimes his laugh rings through the thin walls of the apartment complex and makes Taehyun believe someone just died, and he’s beautiful. Un-understandably beautiful.
He noticed it first when Kai stayed over while moving a few things in, making his new place home, trying to distract himself from the relentless problem sets his professor assigned last week. Subtle when Taehyun watched him outside of the window. Their eyes meet occasionally, Taehyun awkwardly waving and Kai sweetly smiling back.
As embarrassing as that first encounter is, it’s strange seeing beautiful people out in the wild. Taehyun thought Jesus banned them to Hawaii or Los Angeles or somewhere evil like Canada. But, Kai stands there, in front of Taehyun’s doorstep days later, burnt cookies in his hand and a cheap plate only a grandmother would love. His smile is still round at the corners, there’s a small dimple that indents his cheek, and Hobak paws at Taehyun’s sock.
“Hi,” he says. His hair—it’s blond on the edges, noticeably dry from the way it’s almost static, and Taehyun can only memorize how strong his nose looks.
Taehyun stares at the cookies. And maybe also his hands at the time, but his brain insists the burnt-to-crisp cookies are what draws his attention. Each side is decorated with sprinkles, and the icing attempts to hide how dark-brown each is.
“I’m Huening Kai, but you can just call me Kai,” Kai introduces. His hands jut out, attempting to draw Taehyun’s attention to the plate. “I’m moving in, so I might be loud for a while.”
“I know,” Taehyun starts. His eyes trace Kai’s, and Hobak meows especially loud. “The landlord informed me already.”
Kai nods.
“Well, I brought over cookies,” Kai explains. His eyes flickers down to the plate, and his fingers are thick. And big. And red at the edges. And Taehyun really shouldn’t get this side-tracked talking to a boy . “I hope you like them. I made them all by myself.”
“Oh,” Taehyun’s hands move before his brain. He scoops up the plate from Kai’s palm, but half the cookies are charred. The other portions are still misshapen and questionably lumpy. “I can see that.”
Kai smiles, almost proud of himself when he says, “Yeah, I didn’t know if you were vegan or vegetarian or something, so I tried combining all the recipes I found online.”
“Oh,” Taehyun repeats.
Because he wasn’t sure what to say. That’s so incredibly kind hot stranger— true to an extent, but really questionable even for him. You shouldn’t be in the kitchen— honestly would be more accurate. Except, Kai’s smile is so round at the corners, so unwaveringly satisfied with himself that Taehyun doesn’t have the heart to tell the truth.
At that moment, Taehyun decides he’s going to hell for a boy, and he supposes that Kai was beautiful enough to warrant that. It is lame, incredibly pathetic, against his own self when he grins at Kai, but Taehyun tries to not think about the moment too much.
So Taehyun lies, a hissing breath taken from his jaw-locked mouth while he does. He tries to make his eyes more kind and soft when he answers, “They’re really good, Kai.”
Kai finally steps back, feet resting again on Taehyun’s house mat. Hobak meows especially loud again.
“I’m glad you like them. I really did my best.” Somehow, his smile becomes even brighter, rounder in a split second, gums showing, “The cashier said that I shouldn’t buy 2 cartons of eggs for this, but I wasn’t sure you’d like them at first.”
Aw— it’s unfortunate that Taehyun is attracted to that. Compelled or willed to fall in love with losers slightly. It’s the evil part of his brain—his hippocampus naturally falling in love with college boys because he didn’t have the opportunity in middle school mid-sexuality crisis.
He is about to say something, but Kai stops him in his tracks. “What’s your name by the way? I never actually asked.”
Right, yeah, Taehyun forgot about that. “I’m Kang Taehyun,” he replies.
And Kai grins again, somehow cheekier, young, and fleeting.
Some clouds part in the sky, and the warmth of sunlight shines. Hobak purrs louder at the softness of daylight, and Taehyun’s heart beats so hard that his Apple Watch beeps in concern.
He’s so fucked.
11 August 2023
To Soobin
Tell me not to fuck my neighbor
From Soobin
Why in the world are you fucking your neighbor
Remember
You’re too beautiful for a man
To Soobin
Replied to: Why in the world are you fucking your neighbor
I just said i’m not????????
From Soobin
Okay
Besides that
Didn’t you say you were goning to work on urself
Can’t you go back to like
Idk
Threatening to send ur address to serial killers rather than fucking your neighbor
To Soobin
Replied to: Threatening to send ur address to serial killers rather than fucking your neighbor
That was last year
I’ve changed
20 February 2024
From Ria
Are you ok?
You haven’t called in forever
You didn’t come home for ur b day
Mom n dad are worried
Text them back rn
To Ria
I know
I’m sorry
Life’s been rough
When he comes home, Taehyun finds his journals in the trash at 15 years old.
It came with rummaging, pathetically searching and finding the discarded stories of his life. It’s almost animalistic—the sinking feeling in his chest when there’s a food stain on the cover, scavenging for the pages that have DO NOT TOUCH—KANG TAEHYUN’s written in black sharpie. All the little stickers, the pieces that made the sides feather out and tear, the sticky tabs—all ruined. But, somehow, it’s not the worst of it.
Pages—torn out, ripped apart, scratched out with scissors—are taken from nearly every journal. Every story, every little piece, every little thought that belongs to Taehyun is scrapped and stained. Tainted and blemished. Even the annotations to the side on how Taehyun wanted to kiss the boy in his class, how he mixed their names together, sloppily jotted the results of their compatibility test—all gone. Erased. Destroyed.
When Taehyun tries to skirt around the issue at dinner, playing with his salad and trying to not indent the fork in his hands, his mother looks at him.
“Why?” he asks, but his tone is akin to a plea. Desperation. Taehyun attempts to not fist his hands too much, to not let his cards show. Except, the feeling in his stomach lurches.
“Why would you throw them away?”
Then, she furrows her eyes together. Her voice is raised—a symptom of betrayal, of hurt, of how Taehyun has hurt her so irreparably. The lines in his mother’s face crease more, white strands fall down her face, and she doesn’t deny it.
“Why would you write about boys like that?”
Commandment 5: Honor your father and your mother.
Sangwoo kicks some dirt. “You know, you shouldn’t just use people.”
It’s spoken like something dirty, derogatory.
Huh? Taehyun looks back at Sangwoo. They’re in some abandoned alleyway just behind the school.
His mouth tugs into a frown, unable to hide the disbelief, “What are you talking about?”
“I don’t know.” Looking around, Sangwoo takes a step closer to Taehyun. His lip trembles when he admits with hands running through his hair in distress, “You shouldn’t have led me on.”
Those words—they instantly jolt something in Taehyun. Wake him up in a cold sweat. He fists his hands a little harder.
“I didn’t!” Taehyun flinches back and hisses, looks into the blacks of Sangwoo’s eyes. Fuck—now he’s riled up. Fighting for something that’s supposed to die. That needs to die.
Taehyun tries—to not show all his cards and yell, but he’s only fifteen. Breaking up with the closest concept he’s had to love. Something ugly pricks his skin, and he almost feels the need to hurl.
“Why on Earth would you say that!” Taehyun screams, grabbing the front of Sangwoo’s shirt. It’s ambitious, too much, everything he can’t be in a singular moment,
Sangwoo raises his eyebrow. His legs are bruised from football practice, his sweat glistens in the sunlight, and Taehyun tries to breathe. “You were telling me to end this.”
“Yes, but,” Taehyun finds himself trailing off, hands weaker and loosening just enough for Sangwoo to wriggle out of his grasp. He lets his eyes rest on some lamp pole, he brushes back another stray strand, plays with the cross on his neck, and he… he can’t just say everything.
I liked boys so much that my parents found my journals. I dreamed about you everyday. You have to believe me—that I loved you. That it’s in me. And my parents are scared—I’m terrified of what it means.
Sangwoo—he keeps claiming, wanting, begging for something that’s not going to happen. And intoxicating things—things that change your brain. Make you fractured and less human.
Things that turn off pieces of your brain, dream, believe in the unreal—all of them are bad.
And Sangwoo—he has to know that. Taehyun can’t live his life like this—wandering, waiting to flinch, watching calamities come and go. He can’t live as if he’s constantly going to become exposed, raw, worn thin and unbeautiful.
It’s not life; it's a necessity. To live, to eat, to breathe. You can’t choose the easy things.
His lungs are a little ragged, broken when he whispers, “I’m sorry.”
In their final moments, Sangwoo walks into the distance—scarred from his fist fight with a stapler, loved by people around them, meant for a life after a high school football team—and Taehyun watches the sun melt.
Contrary to popular belief, Taehyun doesn’t believe in fuck buddy culture. At least, not friends with benefits.
Despite what introductions may seem, Taehyun doesn’t fuck Huening Kai.
Their proximity? Too close.
Their nights together? Probably ruined by the idea of sex.
And, there’s also the fact that every boy he’s fallen for in college, every choice he’s made has almost resulted in disaster.
His first ever friends with benefits? Terrible. Horrific event. Flirted with 20 girls on the side, almost convinced Taehyun to receive a stick-and-poke on his bicep, kissed him so hard he believed in love. He fucked hard and slow, wranging out moans from Taehyun with every time he slipped his cock against Taehyun’s prostate. When Taehyun inevitably fell so hard, the guy ghosted him for weeks before admitting to Taehyun—this isn’t going to work out. I was only looking for something off season.
The second one? Found off of Tinder. Earned a bachelors in Music Production, a master in blow jobs and blowing off Taehyun for last minute parties. Used Taehyun’s credit card for Drake tickets, which could arguably be his biggest offense. Taehyun remembers coming so hard, the sharp press of lips against his thigh, some mouth making a mark, cheap concealer at Dollar Tree to cover week-long hickeys, and Soobin’s face of disappointment when he Ubered back to the dorms.
His third time isn’t a charm. He made Taehyun believe in love a little, had thick fingers that made him cum in seconds, and escaped for a dream in LA. He fucked Taehyun so harshly, pushed his legs back further and further to slip his cock in faster, denied him an orgasm three times, made him forget about his 9 AM midterm, and only left behind a hasty text of I wanted to hit it one last time before his flight.
Upon reflection, Taehyun might strike out with love.
It’s just, when the school year comes, Taehyun makes a vow of celibacy. Of not allowing boys he doesn’t know to his apartment. He adopts Hobak from an animal shelter, and Hobak hates most people, so it’s perfect for Taehyun’s changed life.
And Kai—he just happens to align with the timeline of celibacy. Soobin’s doubtful of it, but Taehyun doesn’t care. Perception is different from belief; Kai’s presence could be the perception of change within Taehyun, of Taehyun choosing the long game to rediscover love, yet reality is different. The truth is: Kai happens to just fill that absence in Taehyun’s life with his weekly adventures and visits to the supermarket.
Just because he’s beautiful doesn’t mean you should fuck him, Taehyun. That’s probably what the bible says, but Taehyun’s entirely not sure. He left the church eons ago and only attends mass on Christmas to appease his parents.
Except, Beomgyu heard of Soobin’s declining prediction business and about his clientele, so Taehyun ends up at another university cafe after his Econ midterm.
He squints at the flyer in his hands. A badly cropped photo of Beomgyu wearing glasses and using one of the premium templates on Canva. A note on the side of: no refunds available if you and your match do not fuck. And, besides Beomgyu’s email address, there’s the Seoul Suicide Hotline.
“What is this?”
Beomgyu frowns. “I thought you were supposed to be smart.”
“I just don’t get it.” Taehyun raises an eyebrow. He gestures to the flyer and the little scribbles in the corner. “Why would I ever want to be matchmade by you?”
Beomgyu rolls his eyes, as if the answer was obvious. “ Because you love me? Because you don’t want to be lonely,” he raises his voice an octave before giving Taehyun a blank stare, “Fuck, I don’t know, Taehyunnie! You’re single. No one likes you. Maybe it’s because of your mental illnesses, but I could fix that.”
“I am not mentally ill.” Taehyun feels the need to point out.
Beomgyu, because he’s doubtful of everything good, offers Taehyun a pointed look. “You cried on my floor last week, even though I told you it wasn’t clean.”
Taehyun shivers at the memory. “But,” he musters enough courage to say, “That was a conditional cry. Post mental breakdown crying if anything because I accidentally forgot Nash equilibrium on my quiz.”
Sighing, Beomgyu shakes his head, hands in his lap in resignation. “Okay, okay, I get it. You’re circumstantially mentally ill.”
“Thank you,” Taehyun comments. Then, his eyes fall to the flyer again. Beomgyu’s matchmaking service—for the losers, virgins, the special little freaks. “I don’t even know what market you’re going for.”
“Ya’know,” Beomgyu innocently twirls a pinky through his hair. His eyes look distantly at the sky. “People like you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah,” Beomgyu looks up at Taehyun, pouty-eyed and expectant. Taehyun only responds by raising an eyebrow, expecting the worst to come. “I realized it must be hard being you. With the whole loser trapped in a normal body thing you have going on, but I believe that I could do something about it!”
He drums his fingers, hoping for Taehyun to catch on, but Taehyun just gives him another nasty side eye.
“Okay.” Taehyun takes another sip out of his chai latte before screeching his chair back. “We’re done.”
“Wait—Taehyunnie, I was just joking!” Beomgyu whines, quickly latching onto Taehyun’s hand despite his attempts to shake it off. “I know your celibacy is self-imposed and everything. And if your writing career doesn’t work out, being a nun is totally within grasp! Come on”.
There’s a bit more whining, some pleading in Beomgyu’s tone, but it only becomes dangerous when he threatens to do aegyo. With a groan, Taehyun concedes because he’s weak and vulnerable and Beomgyu only knows how to prey on the young and kind-hearted.
“What do you want—be honest this time.”
Beomgyu, pretty as ever, smiles again, teeth white and glistening. “Can you use your free printing access to make copies for me?”
“Dude.” Taehyun’s mouth goes to a thin line. “Libraries exist. Just print it there.”
Rolling his eyes, Beomgyu swats Taehyun’s arm, hissing at him for even suggesting the thought. “Okay, but I’m poor. Think of this as helping the needy.”
“Fine—” Taehyun hisses. He scans the flyer on his phone for good measure, but Beomgyu insists on sending him the original Canva link and demands the copies be printed in color.
Beomgyu is annoying and bratty and most likely the reason Taehyun dies an early death, but he also means the world to Taehyun sometimes, so he lets it slide. Just when they finish catching up and his chai latte runs out, Beomgyu looks at Taehyun, almost anticipating. For something.
Taehyun’s not entirely sure; it’s a situation where someone has to first give and take. Reveal the unspoken.
Maybe Beomgyu gets spooked enough with their quiet, unblinking silence, so he speaks up first, letting out a deep sigh.
“By the way,” Beomgyu mentions. He takes care of the cafe bill, something finally kind for Taehyun in return. “I’m willing to actually match you. Free of charge because of you helping me and everything.”
Taehyun rubs the back of his neck. This—this is definitely unexpected. “Maybe hold off on that offer.”
Then, Beomgyu’s eyes light up, ever so curious. “Do you,” he pauses, trying to read the expression on Taehyun’s face, “already have someone?”
What? Taehyun feels his throat tightening, a little weak for air. What in the world? First Soobin—now Beomgyu? What’s with all the sudden pressure for Taehyun to have someone? Isn’t there a rule in the world—vaguely along the lines of college boys being evil? To always beware of them? Isn’t that the universal mantra?
“Huh?” Taehyun jolts back. Eyes are wide, unblinking. He traces the lines on Beomgyu’s face, something concerned, something that tells him to rest his bones.
“No, no. I just. Don’t need anyone at the moment.” Taehyun keeps his voice firm, unstrained. “Y’know. Self imposed celibacy and everything,” he waves it off, casual.
Beomgyu gives him a stern look. A I know more than you think glance, but he lets it pass when Taehyun avoids his gaze. Beomgyu—well, he doesn’t really know about Kai. Just vague ideas of how Taehyun’s weekends are usually booked and busy. From doing his laundry besides Kai to pirating Grey's Anatomy the third time alongside him.
“Well,” he concedes. “Just know, hyung will always be there for you.” Then, softly, he pats the top of Taehyun’s head, and, despite it all, there's something meaningful about it. Beomgyu's polite way of I'm thinking about you; Taehyun's insistence in return that there's no need. Beomgyu is strange to an extent; in his own way, he's deeply strange, yet caring. It's all of him, everything in him, the way he naturally looks and asks if Taehyun ate well this week. No question is ever out of malice, but a gentleness that Taehyun's known since freshman year.
And, when Beomgyu softly unravels the tiny knots in Taehyun’s hair, his heart finally rests. “I know.”
August 31, 2021
Subject: hi bye
taehyun <[email protected]>
I’ll try to stop thinking about you. That’s what Ria tells me to do. New year, new rules. Dua lipa
24 October 2024
To beom
dude
Why in the world do u need 400 copies
What audience do u even HAVE??????
From beom
Well
it’s on the flyer
also u obviously know nothing about publicity
He needs to drop out.
That’s what he tells Hobak before leaving the apartment—at least once a day. Taehyun cries at the thought almost every other week. About dropping out, hating his major, going crazy at the thought of walking to class again.
There’s a difference between love and like—love and passion. Love is choosing Biochemical engineering, loving his mother enough to follow her dream. Like is about selfishness; choice and blindly becoming himself. Ria looked down at him then—when Taehyun denied himself the English department scholarship, when Taehyun showed her his roster of classes. There’s a silent understanding between them; her hushed glances of do you want this , and his frantic hands saying yes, yes, yes .
Want; the thing exists as a separate being. It’s the first rule of being a good person, of living a good life. To abandon all want. To choose the good. To shape Taehyun, change these pieces of himself, and replace the want with yearning.
Yonsei—Seoul—wherever it is, it’s the problem. The hustle and bustle of a city he never belonged to, the foreignness of a street Taehyun can’t decipher at midnight, the constant push of desperation to be something rather than nothing.
Seoul—the beautiful part is sacrifice. Bleeding. No one moves to Seoul to be stranded; it’s about living, creating, existing. Taking the pieces of yourselves, believing you belong in the big-city, calling 30 minute lines short, sacrificing bodies to feel real.
But Yonsei University—it’s beautiful in the Spring, a celebration before their finals season comes up again in a roar. Ria visits when Yonsei’s 2024 Spring Festival comes, urges Taehyun to leave his apartment, and watches him cough at the sight of another happy couple on the street. The heat is searing; Taehyun sweats through his denim jeans and fans himself, as they pass through the bright booths, Ria occasionally commenting on some keychains she’d like to buy whenever a vendor presses them long enough.
With a smile, she presses a brown Tabby cat acrylic keychain in his hand. “Doesn’t this remind you of Hobak?”
Taehyun squints slightly. It shares his brown fur, the little curve of Hobak’s smile, and green eyes flashing back at Taehyun.
The student vendor clears her throat and glances back at them, tapping the little cash box below her. “It’s only 7600 won!”
Dimple indenting her cheek, Ria’s grin becomes sharper. “That’s pretty good of a deal.” Shaking Taehyun’s arm in excitement, she follows Taehyun’s eyes, trying to read the expression on his face, and becomes insistent.
Taehyun thinks to himself for a bit.
“Not really.”
“But isn’t it cute?” Ria excitedly jingles the coins in her pockets, ready to count, but Taehyun quickly stops her.
“These things are always overpriced,” Taehyun whispers, a little harshly in Ria’s ear but just low enough for the vendor to ignore them. “We really don’t need to buy one.”
Shaking her head, Ria ignores Taehyun. “Nonsense, you clearly like it, so I can just buy it,”
She lets go of his arm, recentering her focus on counting the change, and Taehyun’s just left with the little replica of Hobak in his hands. The vendor offers to place it in a plastic baggie, but Ria declines it, choosing to hook it in one of his belt loops for good measure.
They pass by some other booths, watching the little tokoyaki stand become busier by the second. Taehyun rarely spent the time to exist in this part of Seoul, to waste these seconds on a festival that barely any of his friends go to. But Ria grabs his hands when he’s walking too slow, mentions about buying flowers for their mom back home, and even suggests visiting one of the student cafes before visiting the center stage.
They’re standing in line for Dalgona in the hopes of winning a Saracha bottle, but Taehyun glances back at Ria, the little collection of gifts she’s bought, and how her hair’s pinned back with a newly bought claw clip.
Finally, he asks a question that’s been lodged in his throat for a while. “Why do you always buy so many things?”
“Hm?” Ria looks back at him. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well,” Taehyun starts. His fingers find the loop of his denim jeans, and he hears the slight jingle of his keys. “You’re always willing to just spend on the things you want.”
“Don’t you think it’s wasteful.”
Ria nods along, slightly understanding. Their childhood spent on a farm—where work was expected and not rewarded. Where Taehyun’s Sunday mornings were lived learning sermons and helping his grandma pick weeds from the yard. More of his jeans were grass-stained than clean; most of his life was defined by something to do rather than something to exist as.
“To be honest, we’re adults now.” Ria comments. Her hands tuck back some loose hairs, and she moves to where there’s a little more shade. “I’m allowed to want things, to make my life a bit better.”
“Even if it ends up disappointing Mom and Dad.”
Trying to follow her words, his foot draws a little circle into the ground. “I guess.”
Folding her hair up into a tight bun underneath her hat, Ria looks up at the sky. “There’s so much of my life I believed I had to live with, but I realized there has to be a life left to just be myself. Where I let myself be happy.”
Taehyun bites the bottom of his lip. “I see what you mean.”
Trailing her eyes back on him, Ria sighs. “Listen,” her hands find themselves against Taehyun’s shoulders, drawing him back to properly look at her. “You have to live this life too, Taehyun. Life’s about wanting. Even if they seem like little things, it's beautiful to want. Mom and Dad might not get it now, but there's always a later. There's always time to understand, but---”
In the small space they have, Taehyun rolls his eyes again and takes a step back. “I get it, okay.”
Even if she seems doubtful, Ria looks sternly at him. “I’m just telling you.”
“I heard it,” Taehyun retorts.
“Okay, but I want to remind you!” Ria raises her voice, pointer finger in the air to be even more insistent. “You’re allowed to be yourself. Around me at least, I want you to be you.”
September 21, 2021
Subject: sorry again
taehyun <[email protected]>
I’m scared im not good. Everyday, I wish someone would tell me what to be. What to think. What to feel. What to believe in. How to breathe. Because I don’t know anymore. I have to be someone, and I dont know how to do it. i don't know what the world wants from me; i don't know the difference between right and wrong, myself and my mother. i don’t think i can live like this, but i can’t know what’s supposed to be better
24 May 2024
To hyuka
Dude
I’m gonna drop out
Pls let me drop out
From hyuka
Ohhhhh nooooooo :(
What happened
⊹⋛⋋( ●´⌓`●)⋌⋚⊹
To hyuka
Nothing lol
I just remembered my finals schedule and teared up
Proposal
From hyuka
Replied to Proposal
pls no i can’t get married at 19
To hyuka
I WAS NOT going to say that chill out
I was going to say
double suicide
Some music blasts so loudly that Taehyun’s ears ring.
Ria eagerly rushes to the corner, shuffling into some free space with him in hand and his keys rattling through the crowd. Even when he tries to apologize for every foot he steps on, Ria manages to snag some chairs in the middle that are just between two families. She pats some of the leaves off with her jacket sleeve and proudly shows Taehyun the two flimsy excuses for chairs, and he rolls his eyes.
A guy is fixing his electric guitar with the speakers on, occasionally strumming a wrong note. Taehyun tries his best to not flinch at the ugly sound, but Ria takes notice and shoves his shoulder, a silent hissing of be nice to the performers when their eyes meet.
Opening the catalog, Ria scans the page with the list of student performers. Then, she tilts it just enough for Taehyun to catch sight of it all. “Anything you’re looking forward to?”
Taehyun shrugs. “I heard the school band was pretty good, but no one else is really notable.”
An announcer on the microphone then screams into the microphone for good measure, declaring the official start to the Yonsei’s Got Talent? Show, and Ria takes her phone out to record some bits and pieces. Occasionally, there’s someone who steps on stage, catches her eye, and she shakes Taehyun so hard to ask if he knows their name. Sometimes the face brings a vague idea to mind—like I’ve seen him in my Intro to Bio class or that’s my lab partner that would ditch every lab—but most have him squinting, trying to recall a person that doesn’t exist in his world.
Then, at the corner of his eye, Taehyun finally meets a familiar face. Recognizes the sharp jawline, the blue tinted hair in sunlight, the tall frame with a guitar pick in his mouth. It’s almost daunting, evil, compelling. Taehyun looks at him—Kai—in the distance like a stranger, someone familiar enough to be committed to memory, someone distant enough to know his laugh but never his life.
In all truth, they aren’t really friends. Nothing close to it. Their conversations are barely anything more than the weather, a question of if they share classes that semester, another brief good morning and good bye.
He’s just—some guy. Some guy who is kind enough to share Taehyun scraps of a meal when he makes too much Buldak. Some boy who offers Red Bulls at the height of finals week. His neighbor at the end of it all. Somehow, Huening Kai exists as a bad omen; the reason Taehyun’s struck out with so many boys these past few months, someone he might’ve dreamt instead of the boy he’s kissing in between bars. The timeline of celibacy, striking out, avoiding love—it all comes down to Kai.
Taehyun’s breath hitches because when did his neighbor even play guitar? Or sing? His eyes come back to it all—scanning the little pamphlet offered by the university, looking underneath sweaty thumbs, and finding Hueningkai and Hong Jisoo inscribed below the title Sunday Morning — Maroon 5 Cover.
Ria… Well, she only knows a fraction of the story. About the new neighbor and only partially about Taehyun’s limited sex life at the moment.
But, it’s searing. The image in his mind, the slow way Kai moves in his black pants, the occasional moments he lifts his shirt, the slight exposing of belly button and skin. Taehyun watches him like a memory; Kai, from their first meeting to the present tense, has always been beautiful, existing as something Taehyun never properly approached because of their busy schedules.
Even Ria takes notice of how Taehyun’s eyes linger on for too long, the little way his face heats up even more, the movement of his trembling hands rubbing the spot Hueningkai and Hong Jisoo on the paper.
“Oh my god.” Her eyes widen like saucers. And, Taehyun can just see the minute she spends processing it all.
The idea of Kai, the presence of Kai, the little way Kai’s hands occasionally strum his guitar, testing out the chords before their set plays.
“He’s your type.”
Huh?
Taehyun recenters his gaze back to her.
Ria—she was not supposed to say that.
Because… Because what in the world does that mean? Taehyun stares at her for a second, breath hitched, thoughts running a million miles per second, and his mouth moves between being wide open and closed to a thin line.
“He is not!” Taehyun hisses, trying to divert her gaze from the duo.
If anything, he should step on her shoes just to prove a point, to angrily hiss underneath his breath on how she shouldn’t expose his deepest darkest secrets and desires at a concert.
“He’s tall,” she argues, unblinking. Even she takes another glance at Kai at the corner of the stage, his acoustic guitar, and some other guy who laughs a little loudly.
Kai isn’t even that funny. Probably. Taehyun’s not too sure.
But, she is right. He’s tall and big and Taehyun might’ve watched him for hours lifting boxes. Except, those things—they don’t—they’re insignificant . In the world of love, in Taehyun’s mental registry of who he should consider kissing before college ends. And Kai—that’s his neighbor.
It’s not in the rules of his contract with the landlord, but there’s unofficial regulations to having neighbors.
Most likely anyways.
Something along the lines of don’t fuck your neighbors or don’t develop crushes on guys your age or why in the world would you fuck your neighbor —Taehyun’s not entirely sure, but he feels his throat becoming drier by the second.
Maybe—hopefully—Ria won’t remember Kai’s face from their brief interactions. Or the screenshots Taehyun sent of his Instagram profile.
“There’s a billion guys in the world who are tall ,” he answers, saliva stuck to the top of his mouth.
Ria disregards the fact, using her camera to zoom in a little more. “Okay, but he’s your kind of tall.”
Taehyun, just for his dignity, starts swatting the air in front of her, trying to block her phone from recording. “You make no sense.”
“You make no sense!” she screams. Taehyun normally would be more embarrassed if there weren’t other hoards of girls dancing in the background and chatter filtering throughout the small venue, but Ria resides herself to leaning a bit more forward. “The guy of your dreams lives right next door, and you don’t immediately try to jump his bones?”
Fuck, she does remember. Taehyun’s in trouble now.
“How is he my dreams?”
“I don’t know,” she answers, shrugging mindlessly.
Kai and Jisoo take their steps on stage, microphone in hand, and their respective guitars in the other.
Taking another harsh glance at them, Ria jabs a finger into Taehyun’s side. “You used to make out with the Tom Welling poster on your wall, and he looks vaguely like him.”
“First of all, I was twelve when you saw that! Second of all, I live next to him, remember?” Taehyun waves his hands in the air.
This—this definitely wasn’t supposed to happen. Ria knowing about the reality of his recent celibacy vow, her willingness to record Kai’s performance, her nudging Taehyun to start searching up Kai’s Instagram again. This—it’s too real. Too much of a reality.
Kai being the unintentional blockage of his sex life; Kai existing, and Ria nodding relentlessly in approval.
Just when he’s about to speak up, protest on how they should be leaving, Jisoo taps the microphone, drawing everyone’s attention back to the stage.
Their two-man show? Simple, not anything notable. Clothes Taehyun could find at Macy’s or Goodwill.
But, Kai’s beautiful again, attention-grabbing, a singular moment in time. He most likely can’t see Taehyun’s little figure in the distance, and it shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t matter—the way his little heart beats, the breaths in and out. It all doesn’t matter.
“I hope you all are having a great Sunday morning,” Jisoo says into the microphone. Against the stage light, his earring shines and nearly blinds Taehyun.
“I’m Joshua, and I’m from LA,” Jisoo starts, gesturing at Kai to step up as well.
With a shy smile, Kai does, taking small and slow steps. “I’m Hueningkai, and I lived in Hawaii before here.”
Jisoo collects Kai’s hand, bringing him up even closer to the microphone. For every movement Kai does, Jisoo flashes a bright grin, and Taehyun feels the tiny way his heart pumps. The frantic mess of catching himself like an Instagram post from 2018, the regret of watching Kai take a guitar pick out his mouth, Ria observing Taehyun so hard and slow at this moment.
“We’re here to sing—oh, who could’ve guessed it,” Jisoo calls out, trailing off for a second before Kai gives his own grin. There’s some groans in the crowd, yet Jisoo pays no mind, “Sunday Morning.”
And, when the classic piano chords play in the background, it’s beautiful. The slow crescendo of Kai’s voice, the little way his fingers dance along the strings, a hum whenever Jisoo takes the spotlight. There’s the gentle way Kai hits the base of the guitar in between beats, the soft falsetto on his lips, the slight upturn of his mouth when he sings lead me back to you.
Yonsei—it’s taken so much from Taehyun. Stripped a piece of him. Made him into something unrecognizable. But, the feeling is in his throat. In his chest. Taehyun—he grabs onto it hard, latches onto it so violently that his hands are bloody and torn and bleeding. He fists and tugs at himself from the little way his heart finds itself.
“That someday it would lead me back to you,” comes from Kai’s mouth. It’s something guttural, something begging and pleading.
Ria turns her attention on stage, trying to record everything again, making sure her hand is steady just for Taehyun.
Commandment 3: Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy.
Sunday mornings spent for a boy he doesn’t know, a boy who sings in a make-shift duo pair, who bakes burnt cookies as a first greeting. A feeling in his chest lights up, tightens; it’s not love.
Then, a slight melody comes, some harmonizing between Jisoo and Kai.
“Come and rest your bones with me.”
Taehyun decides it’s admiration if anything. Awe from the way Kai stands there, passionate about a song about love, a memory, a person who hasn’t existed for him. It’s rare he ever gets to enjoy the beauty of music, the art of creation, the thought of yearning, the passion for something so tangible again.
Yonsei—it’s meant to take away dreams. Strip the young and beautiful of their sanity. Push its students to the limit. However, in this pocket of time, Taehyun feels his pulse drum so hard. Every tap, tap, tap being so vibrant, alive, fleeting.
It’s almost a childlike feeling, a fascination. Something innocent and laughable; an idea his mother would dismiss on the best of days, scold for wanting on the worst. That believing this thing—music, art, creation and replication—can be this beautiful.
Remincescent of when he first giggled about kissing boys, the gentleness of mornings not dedicated to the Church, climbing into bed with a Frat guy two years older than him and took a hit, the first paper that received an A+ and some comment from his teacher begging Taehyun to be a writer, his first time crying to the book Small Steps.
Kai rubs the microphone against his nose too hard; it’s red and blotchy, something ugly and unnoteworthy. But stilling. For a moment in time, Taehyun remains stagnant, watching the world stop a little bit, following every moment on stage even when a light flashes in his eye.
Heart in Seoul—it doesn’t exist, it shouldn’t be real, but he rediscovers it on a Sunday morning.
Despite what he says, Taehyun doesn’t leave the church at 13—when he first dreams about kissing boys so hard he forgets the sermon. It’s a lie he tells most; I’ve always known I was gay, I’ve always wanted to kiss boys.
He doesn’t leave the church at 15—when he comes home with bruises and a black eye after someone calls him sin. Ria places some alcohol over the nastier cuts to his face; Taehyun cries on her shoulder when it hurts too much.
He leaves at 17—letter in his hand at night from the Confirmation Camp counselor during the final hours of their retreat, stars shining bright enough, fingers fisting hard to indent and make his skin angry and red. His mother’s handwriting—hangul pressed so hard into the paper—pleads him to be a better person. To change.
I want you to be better —it’s a prayer. I want you to be something—it’s a yearning. You can’t live like this—it’s a plea. I love you so much, Kang Taehyun. I need you to be better.
Yonsei; it isn’t the dream, but it’s better.
24 March 2024
To Soobin
Kai
He
From Soobin
Can you pleasseeeeeeee stop talking about that bi uncut wasian cock
I have a situationship
I cannot be thinking abt wasian cock
To Soobin
Dude wtf
I did NOT say that
Eyeliner slightly smudged, Taehyun sees Kai again when it’s evening. Guitar pick with apartment keys in hand, the case resting against the wall momentarily, and Taehyun breathing in and out. In and out—a reminder to himself when Kai notices his small steps.
“You were really good out there.”
“Oh,” Kai seems more alive by the second, suddenly alert and aware enough to fumble his keys when he takes a step back from the door, facing Taehyun. “Thanks.”
“I—” Taehyun takes another breath. In and out. He tucks back some hair to distract his fingers. “I didn’t know you played guitar.”
“Actually, I—I didn’t know you also went to Yonsei.”
In general, Taehyun doesn’t know a lot.
Kai looks at him, slowly processing the words. Then, he rubs the back of his head, sheepish. “Yeah, I transferred a while back. My old university didn’t let us switch around departments, but Yonsei let me into their music program.”
“I see.” Taehyun nods. He feels the weight of something heavy in his throat. Normally, it’s hesitation; the pain of waiting or longing for an answer. But, Kai—he’s special. His music—it’s special.
The first moments of vitality Taehyun’s felt in a while. The very few times Seoul has felt like something other than a stranger. It’s funny—finding himself in a song he doesn’t even know. Things like Yonsei—they’re momentary and fleeting, stalling and unnoteworthy. Life in the big city is bleaker than most people say.
“What made you choose music?”
“Hm?” Kai repeats again, taking a proper up and down glance at Taehyun. There’s a slight tilt of his head, ever so curious and asking. “What do you mean by that?”
“Oh, I was trying to say—” Taehyun bites his lip and might seem crazy right now. Or strange. Or something. To his unofficial official hallway crush. It’s almost sickening, a little jarring to be this nervous around a boy. “I’ve been thinking of changing my major to English for a while. But, I never really found the courage.”
“I see,” Kai nods.
“And I mean, I don’t know if I’d regret it.”
There’s a lot of meaning in a singular sentence.
Disappointing his parents, taking away their dreams, changing himself in Seoul. Taehyun—he looks at Kai as if there’s an answer, but is there any? Just because he wants to be selfish, choose himself, live an existence that’s his, how much will Taehyun regret? How much will his parents mourn?
Maybe there’s gravity in Taehyun’s words, the little ways he notices Kai’s shoulders slump—tired but thoughtful. Kind even when his voice is a little strained from the day. Kai—his gentleness shows in this moment, where Taehyun bares as much of his heart he can muster, and Kai listens even if the information is limited.
“Well,” Kai sighs and runs a hand through his hair. Comforting, he tips up his lips into a slight smile. “I asked myself if I was happy. I asked myself so many times, tried to dream of myself doing anything other than music, and only realized that I missed it all.”
Taehyun bites on the inside of his cheek. “I see.”
“What I’m trying to say is,” Kai answers. “You only have this life, and no one can take that from you.”
“Speaking of which.” Fetching something from his pocket, Kai’s eyes widen slightly, mouth flicking up to a grin on the edges. “Take this with you. Maybe it’ll help.”
Placed in the crevices of his palm, traced within the lines, it’s a sweaty guitar pick. A small skull design, an even tinier lettering on the sides that reads teenage dirtbag , and Kai offering another gentle smile back at Taehyun.
“You know what they say.”
“What do they say?”
“Well,” Kai’s eyes trace the lines of Taehyun’s furrowed eyebrows. Distance between them, Taehyun’s feet nuzzle into his mat, Hobak claws the door on the other end, and leftover pieces of sun flash on Kai’s features.
Beautiful people. Banished to Hawaii. Entering society again. Just to ruin Taehyun's life.
“You've only got this life."
March 25, 2024
Yonsei University Counseling <[email protected]>
to me
Dear KANG, TAEHYUN,
Thank you for reaching out to us. While switching to a different major department isn’t common, in this case, it can be done. Please check your Degree Audit Report when declaring a new major, as new requirements will propagate for you to complete your degree on time. It is important you check the department requirements to ensure that [...]
28 March 2024
From mom
Why?
Why would you do that
You said you wouldn’t
To mom
I know
From mom
What willyou do now
Your dad and i
We didn’t pay for you to be like this
To mom
I know
I’m sorry mom
From mom
Ask to switch you back
To mom
Mom, i don’t want that
From mom
Call me right now
“Are you happy?”
“No.”
“Was changing supposed to make you happy?”
“No.”
“Then—then, then, then. Taehyun. I don’t get it. Why?”
“Why?”
“I love you, and I’ll ask why.”
“I,” Taehyun’s throat buckles. It’s an afternoon home, something restless between him and his mother. An apology doesn’t feel right; it shouldn’t be right. But it feels itself bubbling in him; an I’m sorry, I let you down, I’m different now, I’m not your flesh and blood, I’m not your dreams anymore I’m not I’m not I’mnot i’mnoti’mnoti’mnoti’mnot—
“I couldn’t do it anymore. It was either I drop out or change.”
“Nonsense,” his mother snaps back. “You’re my Taehyun. You’re bright and brilliant and it’s Yonsei. You’re Taehyun—”
“But,” Taehyun argues back, “I wasn’t. I wasn’t for a long time.”
15 September 2024
From mom
How are you?
To mom
I’m okay!
From mom
Any tests this week?
To mom
No, i have a paper next week
From mom
Dad says he misses u
To mom
Sorry, i can’t come home for a few weeks
🙁
From mom
ok
take care of yourself
🙂
April 1, 2023
Subject: (no subject)
taehyun <[email protected]>
sometimes i think im imitating life
Taehyun’s third recognizable encounter with Kai happens incidentally. Unpurposeful. Innocent even.
Well, innocent enough for stumbling with his keys sticking out of his pocket in all different directions. The taxi driver frowned at him too much, rolled his eyes when Taehyun sheepishly pulled one dollar bills out and counted his coins incorrectly.
There’s usually consequences of stumbling into a boy’s apartment. Going to places you don’t quite know. Taehyun—it’s too dangerous. The life he lives, the way he sacrifices a night just to let Soobin drown out his sorrows at some party, just for the chance of finding some liquor in him.
When his key doesn’t naturally slot in, Taehyun finds himself just prodding the door knob. Messing with it. Tapping at the edges to see if he can get a screw loose. Despite his efforts, everything remains futile, still stable when Taehyun tries jabbing his nail into the corners. Fuck the landlord—Taehyun about to hiss and curse. Who makes apartments that burglars can’t rob anymore?
He tried to kiss some guys tonight. Emphasis on tried and attempted. Taehyun kept thinking of young Tom Welling in between breaths—the sharp jawline, bright blue eyes, maybe his neighbor’s blue hair. Something along those lines when some Frat boy gripped his thigh hard enough to bruise.
As a result, his unofficial promise to celibacy, unfortunately, remains. Taehyun doesn’t feel the need or want to discuss it all; the lingering feeling of nothing, his relentless dodging of something. He just—he just needs to figure out this apartment thing. Entering it mostly.
Then, it starts turning.
On its own.
Shit, shit, shit shit shit shit—
Kai stands in front of him. Mostly sweaty and with tussled hair that parts in a weird say. A cowlick he couldn’t smooth out yet. His black shirt clings too much to every muscle, and his sweatpants are loose, low on his waist.
And he just blinks at Taehyun, who is barely standing and fighting for his life.
“Oh,” he finally says. His voice—it’s muskier than Taehyun remembers.
Maybe two octaves below usual, but he can’t say for certain.
“You’re not a robber.”
“Well, I’d be a terrible one if you woke up,” Taehyun snaps back, throat a little wispy. He really shouldn’t be this short-tempered, especially considering how he looks right now.
“Sorry,” he loosely apologizes. His eyes trail back to the room number and shoot wide open with realization. “I thought this was my room.”
Kai nods. Some more moonlight grazes his skin; Taehyun tries to breathe anyway. Hawaii and beautiful people—back to haunt Taehyun over and over again.
“Do you usually use your car keys to open your apartment?”
Huh? Taehyun looks down at his hand. And squints. Stares at the little crevices and thick lines. And looks even harder.
Patting down his pockets, the realization hits him all at once, and Kai surely recognizes it once panic consumes Taehyun.
“I—I.” Taehyun starts stuttering and looking at his little door in the distance. Hobak’s meowing—distant, far, yet close enough. There’s a little sway in his step. “Wow. I might’ve forgotten my keys.”
He peers back at Kai, sheepish and biting his lip. God, Jesus, whatever’s out there—it’s evil. So evil. Damning even.
“Sorry, this is extremely awkward.”
It’s extremely late, and Taehyun will have to call an engineer. Or an operator. Or something. Just someone. Out in the cold, out where he’s only covered with some flimsy latex and bruised at the side of his thigh. It’s pathetic, and Kai watches him, a bit softer on the edges.
“Do you want to stay the night?”
Taehyun quickly jolts back. All of his movements are unsteady, unfocused, with extra steps that make his head reel, and Kai just patiently observes.
Eyes tracing Taehyun’s frame.
He can just hear it; the way his mother would scream about the Bible and how you should never stay the night with a boy you’ve known for 3 months. Celibacy, Taehyun, vows he’s broken to God a relentless amount of times.
It’s not in the Bible—the idea of not sleeping with boys overnight, but some sermon he long forgotten years ago. Where the preacher properly warned against underage sex and condoms don’t leave any space for God.
But—this isn’t that. Kai—he doesn’t want Taehyun. He doesn’t care in a way that matters enough. Sure, he’s kind and invites Taehyun to share a Red Bull when nights are long, yet there’s nothing. No signs. No wanting. Only things to call Ria and cry about.
Kai frowns. “You good there?”
Oh. Yeah. He’s been silent for a while now, and Taehyun should start talking.
“Are you sure?” Taehyun asks. He furrows his brows. “I can just wait for a while outside.”
Shrugging, Kai opens his door a little wider with his free arm. Taehyun tries his best not to stare at his biceps.
“It’s alright with me. Plus,” he takes another scan at Taehyun. Up and down again. Taehyun feels something light up in his chest. “You don’t seem like you’re in the best shape right now.”
“I,” Taehyun starts. He stumbles a little bit, still trying to get used to gravity for a second, but Taehyun mostly finds his footing. “I’m doing alright.”
Then, one of his knees collapses. It’s embarrassing and terrifying and terrible all at once because Kai quickly scoops Taehyun up, gathering his body in one hand to save him from falling.
Moles on the side of his neck, kisses from a past lover in another life, the moonlight still shines on Kai somehow. With worry, Kai’s Adam’s apple bobbles, strong and defiant and something Taehyun needs to forget. Instantly. At this moment.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.
Fuck.
“Come on,” Kai answers, worry and concern evident in his face. A hand still grabbing the latex of his top, taking Taehyun’s weight in one arm, gently closing the door with the other.
He’s— Taehyun should stop thinking —strong. He’s strong. It makes something mortifying throb inside himself.
Maneuvering his body on the couch, Kai tenderly wraps his arm around Taehyun’s frame and seats him down.
“I’ll be right back,” Kai voices, taking a few steps away from Taehyun. “Let me get you something.”
In that spare moment of time, Taehyun finds the clock, which politely informs him it’s 2 in the morning. Shit —now Taehyun feels worse. Worse, worse.
Returning with a glass in hand, Kai tips it into Taehyun’s hands. “Here, drink some water.”
“I really don’t need this,” Taehyun repeats, unblinking. Kai sits down and takes half the space on the couch naturally, but Taehyun doesn’t mind.
Their knees brushing, though? That’s a bigger problem.
Kai tilts his head, a little out of confusion but mostly insistent. He pushes Taehyun’s hands closer to his mouth and shakes his head. “You really should have something. You looked rough out there.”
Then, like clockwork, Taehyun resigns and moves almost naturally, taking commands, listening, obedient all for some boy. It’s stupid, it’s wrong, yet his heart pounds so hard, his ears are red, he counts the seconds their knees keep brushing.
All because his neighbor is hot.
He misses his mouth a few times, hands still a little shaky. They tremble more than they should, and Kai watches him again, lips turned down and the crevices of his eyes scrunched. Fuck, fuck, fuck— shit.
Taehyun—he can’t do this. He can’t…
Everything makes his stomach hot and heavy.
Fiery and alive.
Taehyun tries to ignore the subtle way Kai rubs in circles, the little ways he allows Taehyun to not drown in himself. It’s hot and heated; a reminder of comfort, warmth, a lasting touch he’s been thinking about. For a boy who took his Sunday mornings. Taehyun—he tries to be good, to not let his throat buckle too much. Occasionally, when he’s too weak, Kai collects Taehyun in his hands again, guides him to drink some water, intently follows every gulp.
The caring and kind aren’t supposed to exist in Seoul; big cities—they’re only supposed to contain the cut-throat, the guys experimenting, the ones that remember your body but forget your name. Even when he’s sloppy, water running at the sides of his mouth, Kai doesn’t mind; he wraps his hand with a sleeve and wipes it down for Taehyun.
He’s so messy; he’s so—Taehyun follows the way Kai’s eyes turn, soften, worry. That—that’s not Seoul. Kai—he’s not a Seoul boy.
“You—you shouldn’t help me,” Taehyun admits. The latex on his body makes him overheat, makes his makeup sweat off, makes his hands tremble too much. There’s nothing desirable about Taehyun at this moment; the press of another guy’s fingerprints on him, marked with something bad, liquor that makes him throw up everything good.
The hand on his back isn’t too low; it’s respectable, stable, willing Taehyun to keep looking up. All force within his body is trembling, crumbling by the second, and Kai watches, calm and kind. Calm, stable, careful in the way he treats Taehyun.
It’s almost something in his throat—sickening, callous, cruel. Marked by Seoul, taken and bitten and damaged. Don’t you want to use me? Taehyun feels the press of Kai’s fingertips on his mouth, innocent, unwilling, urging him to stay alive in a singular moment. I’m not good right now. He brushes Taehyun’s lips—not for a kiss, but to let the glass push against them.
His body is limp against Kai’s couch. All the strength is gone; nothing is special about him at this moment, but Kai lets him rest, rubs his shoulder blades, and still has his eyebrows knit together. “You need to be more careful, Taehyun.”
Something in his heart trembles. “I know.”
Even his forehead is hot and sticky and spinning. The brief touch of cold is done by Kai’s palm, trying to recenter Taehyun to the present.
Yonsei , he almost curses aloud. Stop letting in pretty boys . Because Kai—he’s ruining Taehyun’s life. He’s changing it; becoming the catalyst to striking out at parties, to disappointing his parents. He’s ruining Taehyun’s life, touching him with no intention of making out, letting Taehyun’s heart fester with no meaning in his glances.
Kai meets him, eye to eye. “Do you want to sleep in my bed?”
Commandment 7: You shall not steal.
“I—” Taehyun tries to stabilize his breath. “I don’t think that’d be a good idea.”
Shaking his head, Kai becomes almost insistent. “Don’t worry,” he answers. “I can just sleep on the couch.”
“No, no,” Taehyun establishes some space between them, backing away from Kai in a second. “I can barely even walk straight.”
He tries stretching his legs for good measure, just to make a point. They tingle from the sudden movement; Taehyun shows the slight pain in his face.
“Just let me stay here.”
Kai stares at him for a second, and Taehyun is about to just fold his legs in, reside himself in a little space on the couch. Except, Kai brightens, illuminates and quickly shuffles himself, knees on the ground in front of Taehyun.
At that moment, he says, “I can just carry you there.”
What—what in the world? Taehyun—straighter than ever, alert, and eyes wide–watches Kai for a second, unmoving. It’s—that’s too much. Taehyun—he tries to not tremble. To not flinch so much at 2 AM, but how is that even possible? How, how, how, how?
“You are not,” he hisses.
“Come on,” Kai begs a bit, arms wide open. It’s silly, ridiculous even. A boy on his knees, and it’s not for Taehyun’s dick to be sucked.
“You aren’t doing that.”
“This could go a lot faster if you just agree.”
“You shouldn’t do these things for me,” Taehyun repeats.
Kai—he really shouldn’t be making sacrifices for a person he barely knows.
But, innocent and confused, Kai tilts his head. “Why shouldn’t I take care of you?”
Ugh—there’s a million reasons. A thousand that Taehyun can list off his head. I’m still slightly tipsy, and could puke on your bed. I could have lice. We don’t really know each other. However, there’s the sickening, pathetic little piece of Taehyun’s heart that lunges too far, that falls too fast, that beats too quickly. The one that focuses on kissing boys, the one that made him cry at 12 years old from Tom Welling for having a girlfriend, the one that believed in changing his major for love .
“You just shouldn’t.”
“Listen,” Kai answers seriously. “My bed isn’t even that bad. It’s actually pretty nice.”
Taehyun’s mouth draws into a straight line. “It’s not that.” A hand runs through his hair. “You just shouldn’t give me all of this.”
“Come on, Taehyun.” Kai pushes himself off the ground, hand grazing the arm rest by Taehyun’s side. “Just do this for me.”
Just do this for me.
“Do you seriously want this?” Taehyun questions, eyebrows furrowed, finger nails digging into his fist.
Just do this for me.
“Yeah, I really don’t mind,” Kai responds, and it’s a kind smile. Even where there’s barely any light, Taehyun can dream of it—think of it. It always is round at the edges, it holds too much kindness, and his lips are stretched thin.
Just do this for me.
Snapping his eyes shut, Taehyun groans and relents. “Fine.”
“Oh, okay, I’m coming.”
Then, before he processes it, Taehyun feels some arms scoop his body up from the couch, supporting his back and his legs as he’s hoisted up into the air. He grips Kai’s neck hard, arms wrapped around the base of it, trying to not touch too much skin.
Fuck —what in the world is happening? What in hell? He immediately raises his eyes back up, meets Kai’s smile, observes the Adam’s Apple that bobs occasionally with every huff, watches his mouth tip up to slightly laugh at Taehyun’s frantic state, and tries rolling his eyes.
But, maybe God hates him or something because, in a single moment, he catches sight of the mole on Kai’s neck, smooth, bright skin, and side burns that shouldn’t be attractive on anybody. He feels the liquor in him, the one making him bottle up and crumble. It makes him more vulnerable and weak in these times, more willing and pliant when Kai casually makes his way through the thin hallways.
“Do we really have to do it like this?” Taehyun frowns. The tension in his fingers—pressed hard against Kai’s collarbone—remains.
Kai pays no mind. “Just wait a second. I’m almost there.”
Taehyun smells tangerines.
“Aren’t I heavy?”
“Hm,” Kai pauses for a moment. He glances down at Taehyun, pondering and tilting his head to the side. “Not really.”
At the slightly ajar door, Kai uses his foot to usher it open.
“Y’know,” he says, in between the crook of Kai’s neck. Hands are hot; they’re touching a boy that doesn’t belong to him. They’re feeling the crevices of someone new, someone kind. “There’s still the chance for you to drop me. On the floor and everything.”
Leave me to die —he whispers in between breaths.
Kai takes another look at Taehyun. Another step closer to his bed sheets, another whiff of tangerines in Taehyun’s lungs.
“Why would I do that?”
“Plenty of reasons,” Taehyun starts again. If he breathes harder, acclimates to the environment a little more, hopefully Taehyun will stop his head from spinning—from sniffing Kai.
“Do you want me to list them?”
Kai, at the edge of his bed now, leans down and places Taehyun’s limp body softly. The plushies around him make the landing less smooth, but Taehyun is focused on not breathing too much.
Tangerines.
Some muscle flexes, some breath gets hitched, and Taehyun watches as Kai’s hair cascades.
This feels like a memory. Of Seoul, of Yonsei, of everything Taehyun knows. Where Taehyun should push back some strands, where Kai could kiss him if Taehyun asked. It’s a fantasy—a memory—an impulse.
“Maybe tomorrow morning.”
“Tomorrow morning? I’ll still be in your bed, dumbass!” Taehyun wrangles his body out of Kai’s grasp, hands fisting on the bedsheets. Hissing when Kai’s only an inch above him, when the light hits softly. Only a hand left to stabilize his weight above Taehyun when the other rests on the small of his back.
Kai hums. “I’m tired now.”
Gently, he maneuvers his arm out from under Taehyun.
“Because you carried me!” Taehyun argues, eyebrows knit together, but Kai simply shrugs.
He takes some steps back, but it’s not enough. Taehyun’s fingers find Kai’s, the little divots and indents, the cleft and shape to claim his palm. It’s a little desperate; a plea, a want, a warning for Kai from Taehyun.
“I shouldn’t sleep here,” Taehyun tries again, as loudly as he can. He tightens each digit—weak but desperate.
And Kai stands there, unmoving, unchanging. Even in the dim night light on the side, Taehyun can read it all, the little way Kai still thinks and traces the lines of Taehyun’s face.
“It’s alright,” he answers as softly as he can.
Pressed against Taehyun’s side—it’s not fingers, hands, wanting. It’s a penguin and prods and jabs; it’s the little pieces of Kai’s life on the walls; some pencils that Kai left behind. So much of this place—it belongs to Kai. And Taehyun’s intruding, being a nuisance, existing in a space that doesn’t know him.
“Just sleep, Taehyun,” Kai says. Gently, he unwraps their hands and breaks off the little source of heat Taehyun has. “We can talk about it all tomorrow.”
Just do this for me.
Just do this for me.
Just do this for me.
“Okay,” Taehyun relents and croaks out; maybe it’s soft, maybe it’s unrecognizable, but it travels far enough when Kai’s lips turn up and his eyes shine in moonlight.
Taehyun leans, makes the best out of the strength he has to watch Kai gradually leave, and waits for the door to close.
April 23, 2022
Subject: good
taehyun <[email protected]>
Good people. I think i’m scared of them.
23 April 2024
From Soobin
please please pls tell me u arent in a ditch
and just like
on someones dick
pls
To Soobin
Good morning to u too ig
also
I was NOT on someon’s dic
i’m at my apartment
Im fine
From Soobin
oh thank GOD
i was so wasted
And Im sorry for not checking up on u sooner
Pls dont hate me 😔😔😔😔😔😔
but
But
But
We kissed
God does not hate HOMOSEXUALS!!!
To Soobin
Replied to: We kissed
who?????
From Soobin
I WILL SEND UPDATES
LATER!!!!
Hi, Taehyun
I had to leave early for band practice (jisoo and i are going over the chords for double take), so i couldn’t wish you a good morning :(
Anyways, i hope you’re doing alright. I left some aspirin on the table next to the tv, and there should be a glass of water with it. I know you’re probably stressed so my red bull stash is underneath my—
Taehyun tries to breathe. The only thing other than the smell of tangerines is the burnt toast on Kai’s bedside. The overcooked, over easy eggs. And Kai’s phone number—written at the bottom of his note—has an area code different from Seoul.
(He shuffles out of Kai’s apartment as quickly as possible after calling the property manager; if something gets forgotten, Taehyun will be damned. Later. Not now. Never now. Just the curse of his 20’s coming to haunt him.)
April 23, 2024
Subject: memories
taehyun <[email protected]>
be careful with me. i hold onto too many memories; too many ideas. this song might become a memory. your cologne might mean something to me. i can't drink my favorite brand of beer because i remember. i've known myself to latch on---for too long.
“When I’m with you,” Taehyun calls Kai. It’s too late. They are neighbors, close enough for just a walk and end the distance, but calls warrant something else. Breaths too close to the speaker, something low in Kai’s voice that reads as just fighting off sleep, a feeling of familiarity stirring in Taehyun. It’s weird and complex and an amalgamation of ideas, but, if he squeezes his palms enough times, Taehyun thinks it's right. “I get this weird feeling wash over me.”
“Oh really?”
“Yeah. That—I’ll be okay. You make me feel okay, a lot of the time.”
“Hm? What does that mean?”
“I don’t know,” Taehyun hisses. “I’m just speaking out of my ass.”
Then, Kai erupts in sweet laughter, just loud enough for Taehyun to hear it and Hobak to be disturbed.
17 October 2024
From beom
Do u,,,,,
To beom
Do i???????????
From beom
Want to table w me for my dating service
To beom
where r u tabling
From beom
They have a table stand in the main walkway
Next to the furry club
🐾
To beom
DUDE????
From beom
nooooooo its perf
yk like guys who pose photos w their dog for tinder
this is basically the same thing
April 23, 2024
Subject: books i read for fun this year
taehyun <[email protected]>
zero. sorry.
It’s a pop-up hosted by the university; minor foot traction for the regular books, major attraction for the random movie posters they sell for petty change. And, Taehyun picks it up again. Kai, who’s collected various Snoopy comic panels, shuffles back to him, just merely seen by the corner of Taehyun’s eye.
Kai’s eyes light up as always, forever curious. “What do you read?”
“Hm?” Taehyun hums, slightly dazed. He flips through an acknowledgement; an I love you, I found you, thank you for knowing me— all personal, all emotions he wouldn’t know, and something he isn’t really supposed to. Acknowledgements are like secrets, a whisper of love most times, a memory of grief in others. “I tend to—”
He pauses. Fully looks at Kai for a second. Then, he blinks back down to the book in his hands.
It’s too frayed, beaten and broken for it to be worth what the pop-up priced. “I suppose I don’t read. At least, for myself, I tend to forget.”
“That’s silly,” Kai insists, shuffling posters between his arms,“You read tons!”
Taehyun shakes his head. It’s a slow admittance. “I don’t think I do. It’s not for me.”
“Is that what reading has to be?”
“To me—partially.” When Kai fiddles around too much, trying to accommodate everything in his hands, Taehyun naturally scoops some up in the attempt to alleviate some burdens. “I want to be more—me.”
“Hm. Well, I think you’re already you.”
“You do?”
“Everything is you,” Kai answers back. He naturally smiles when sunlight hits him, cat-like and soft. It makes Taehyun almost reach out, willing to touch the softer bits of Kai’s hair that stick out just-oddly enough, but he ultimately recoils. “I always think that.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
23 April 2024
To XXX-XXX-XXXX
Hi kai, this is taehyun
From Maybe: Huening Kai
Oh, hi!!
are u alright?
To Maybe: Huening Kai
Yeah….
sorry abt last night btw
I usually don’t drink tht much
From Maybe: Huening Kai
ur good!
I was just worried
sry if i was pushy last night
o(╥﹏╥)
To Maybe: Huening Kai
oh dw
I was scared i was too much ngl
From Maybe: Huening Kai
what????
no ur fine lol
btw….
do you happen to take classics 127
To Maybe: Huening Kai
wait yeah
Lowkey i hate the prof
From Maybe: Huening Kai
omg
ME TOO
“Do you think he’ll treat you well?”
“Well, he’s not supposed to, hyung.” Taehyun sits a little straighter, back arched weirdly enough. It feels like an interrogation of sorts. Soobin’s over at the apartment, taking up his coffee machine, letting it hum out another spurt of espresso. “He’s just a neigh—friend.”
Soobin shakes his head, hands careful when the machine finally stops. He blows off the steam before saying, “You’ve got to stop thinking like that.”
Taehyun blinks.
“Like what?”
“Well, that—” Soobin stops, treads his words lightly. Taehyun isn’t young, but he is. He’s young enough to Soobin that it always feels like this. That he’s strangely incapable of navigating this life without being treated softly. It’s kindness, an extension of it at least, but it coils in him—a belittling, infantile feeling.
“That?”
“You just have this tendency,” Soobin explains softly. His eyes are tired, slightly sunken. The concealer beneath them was sloppily done where even the darkness peaks through. “Just to hurt yourself with the people around you.”
“I don’t,” Taehyun hisses back.
His feet are cold against his tile floors. There’s this whole dance between him and Soobin constantly. The anxiousness of I hope you’re okay, and Taehyun’s insistence of I don’t need you. It’s strange and weird and probably a sign of something wrong with him, but Soobin doesn’t shy away from it all.
Without true protest, Soobin sighs. He taps the side of his coffee mug. “I just want you to be okay, Taehyun. With yourself, with the people who are supposed to be kind to you, I just want you to be okay.”
1 May 2024
To Maybe: Huening Kai
heyyyyyyy
would u want to come w me to the dance show
From Maybe: Huening Kai
omg what
To Maybe: Huening Kai
my friend soobin bought tickets but couldn’t go
n he just threw them at me
no warning
From Maybe: Huening Kai
lettme check out the listing
wait
TAEHYUN
[attached.jpg]
ABBEY LEE MILLER IS COMING
ABBY LEE MILLER NOONA
To Maybe: Huening Kai
who
From Maybe: Huening Kai
DANCE MOMS????
EVERYONE’S REPLACEABLE???
To Maybe: Huening Kai
wh o in the world????
From Maybe: Huening Kai
Im coming over
this is urgent
u need the dance moms lore
21 May 2024
To hyuka
can u look at my eyebrows
I shaved them but
lwkey i think they’re uneven
From hyuka
Replied to: can u look at my eyebrow
fs!!!
To hyuka
😗
[attached.jpg]
From hyuka
oh!
um
u weren’t joking
（⌒▽⌒）
To hyuka
FUCK ME
From hyuka
nono no it’s nice
It’s so nice
You
You’ve neber looked better
27 May 2024
From hyuka
APPLE PAY REQUEST: $10
To hyuka
What in the world is that
From hyuka
i want to buy the ultra booster pack on cookie run
and u have a job
Pls support small artists
◉_◉
To hyuka
mcdonalds pays me minimum wage
It’s another lazy night in Taehyun’s bed where Hobak’s banished to the living room and Kai distracts himself by counting the number of baby spiders on the ceiling.
“You should really get an exterminator,” Kai says when he tallies a total of 5 spiders just nesting at the sides, mouth drawn into a line out of anxiousness. His legs tangle with Taehyun’s, and a toe indents Taehyun’s calf.
Mindlessly, Taehyun sighs and keeps on typing his essay. It’s something for his Appreciation of Art History class, and he’s been on the third paragraph for over an hour now.
“I really should get a boyfriend.”
Kai takes a proper look at him—staring at Taehyun in disbelief before his fingers dig into Taehyun’s side. Teasingly feeling the crevices of his ribs and voicing his disappointment through touch. “Why in the world would that prompt a boyfriend?”
Sacrificing a hand to dismiss Kai’s fingers, Taehyun rolls his eyes. “Initation ritual, I guess?”
“Why would you need one of those ?” Kai questions, throat slightly strained.
“Well, it wouldn’t be a crazy one,” Taehyun points out. Looking up at the ceiling, he takes a little finger to wave at some spider that seems to stare for too long. “It’d be like: if you’re in love with me, defeat my 5 evil spiders. That would be fun, right?”
Kai, now suddenly alert, shifts to place his body weight on his elbows. A leg hitches up, scrapes against Taehyun’s, and suddenly the skin on skin feels more real.
Softly, underneath his breath, as if only Taehyun is meant to hear it, Kai whispers, “I could do it, free of charge.”
Shaking his head, Taehyun immediately dismisses the thought. “I’m good.” Then, pondering to himself aloud, he properly takes a look at Kai. “It’s for guys to meet my boyfriend material criteria.”
For some reason, Kai seems insistent, willing just to prove Taehyun something. His eyebrows tense up, his cheek follows its usual pout, and he stares at Taehyun for a bit.
“You really don’t need to wait. Why don’t I just do it for you?”
Ugh— Kai needs to stop doing that. Caring. Taehyun’s heart picks up at the edges; it’s an old feeling, of something hot in his hands, of the skin on skin. Another leg pins down Taehyun’s thigh; Kai’s fingers slot into Taehyun’s.
Neighbors to friends. Just like he’d promised before.
Tangerines.
“Because,” Taehyun finishes lamely and rolls his eyes.
If his palms are sweaty, it’s a wordless acknowledgement between the both of them.
He doesn’t really answer the question; it’s up in the air, it exists, and it dies. All in one second. Kai still jots down the number of spiders in his Notes app.
5 June 2024
From hyuka
r u free
To hyuka
I have to write 5 essays by tuesday
From hyuka
oh
i’ll just come over 👀
To hyuka
dude it’s 12 am
From hyuka
oh
(╯︵╰,)
do u not want me to
To hyuka
I mean
ofc u can but
u should sleep
From hyuka
nah
it’s alrighty, i had something to do
“You know,” Taehyun jabs his finger into Kai’s side. They’re close enough, knees touching each other, Taehyun tracing the thick outlines of Kai’s nose, the little way it slopes, and drawing his breath in tight, short bursts. “You don’t have to force yourself.”
Kai raises an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”
Kai’s over again during the height of their finals. It’s 1 AM, half the Celsius stash in Taehyun’s kitchen has been raided, and Hobak gets fussy from the soft light in the living room.
Taehyun’s little space—where a lamp barely illuminates the room, where Kai’s bending himself and crouched over the table his mom gifted Taehyun last year—it’s not meant for someone so big. For someone to take so much room.
But, Kai still exists there. Taehyun’s little potted plants labelled with names Kai made. His wired earbuds left on the table for weeks. Slippers only meant for him at Taehyun’s doorstep.
Rolling his eyes, Taehyun rests his head in his palm.
“Y’know, to stay up with me. I know I sleep late with all my essays and papers, and I probably take half your Red Bulls, but,” Taehyun pauses and looks into the blacks of Kai’s eyes.
He decided—months ago, resting in Kai’s bed as more than a stranger but less than a lover, when they barely knew each other—that he wouldn’t do it. Have sex. Keep it casual. Keep it normal. Neighbors to friends. Kai—he’s something good. And Taehyun can’t keep wasting the good, sacrificing the pieces of it for momentary pleasure.
Sometimes it’s hard distinguishing himself from his heart; the relentless part of himself that looks at Kai’s smile and sighs. The reminder that Kai’s only had girlfriends to kiss. The Red Bull stash meant for Kai and him.
Hobak meows from his secluded dungeon, and Taehyun's eyes dart down to Kai’s hands. “You don’t have to change your sleep schedule for me.”
“Well,” Kai answers, head doing its pondering tilt. “I was always going to stay up, since I had some work to do. You just happen to also be up.”
Taehyun lets a breathy laugh escape. “Sure, you did,” he responds, fingers lightly playing with his earring.
“I do!” Kai insists, getting louder. Taehyun’s eyes drift back to thin lips, watching them frown and tease. His knee bumps against Taehyun’s. “I dooooooo! I swear I do!”
Taehyun snorts. “Just say you miss me.”
Barely any of Kai’s finals require him to send in more than a music score, a recording here and there, maybe even a live performance. Sometimes, there’s an essay to worry about, but it’s nothing that requires him to stay with Taehyun this late. Kai’s work is mostly a solo activity, and he’s here.
With Taehyun.
“I do not! I have more important things than you,” Kai whines, voice pitched up and slightly annoying. But Taehyun—his unfortunate heart—is fond enough.
“You aren’t that slick,” Taehyun comments.
Grabbing Taehyun’s arm, Kai moves his hands up and down the bicep, following the muscle. “I really have things other than you!”
“I highly doubt that.”
“No, I literally do!” Kai hisses, almost insistent now. His grip on Taehyun’s arm gets stronger, handsy. “You should believe me!”
When Kai’s grip gets especially unbearable, Taehyun allows another laugh deep in his chest to escape, rolling his eyes again when he scoots an inch to put a space between them.
“Listen, listen,” Taehyun lightly kicks Kai’s leg. Kai, because he’s terrible and annoying, frowns for a second and pinches Taehyun in return.
His voice is a little airy when he admits, “I don’t mind. I just wanted to say I appreciate it.”
Then, the tight grasp on his bicep stops. Stilled in a singular second. Something softer shifts within Kai—a look of recognizable shock. A beckoning of something deeper. The slight way Kai’s bangs always cover his eyes.
“You do?”
Taehyun nods.
Maybe it’s the weakness of midnights, maybe it’s Taehyun’s paper final he should get to finishing, but he’s honest now. More frank and vulnerable than he’s ever been.
“You’re one of the small parts of Seoul that—” he looks at the moon.
It’s kind in the way its light always shines on Kai. A little bit of life when everything’s dark.
Maybe there really is a being out there, something to believe in. If something as kind as Kai can exist at least.
“—feels real.”
Summer break comes without anything noteworthy. Just Soobin and his unsuccessful attempts to romance his current guy, weekly updates over afternoon tea, and Taehyun beginning the start of his memoir. It takes time, it’s lengthy, and he spends enough days stressing over the next sentence. You aren’t supposed to summarize your life at 20 years old— that’s what he quickly learns. Despite what every internship asks for, you can’t just place your entirety into paragraphs.
But, he still tries. It’s laughable, but he tries and lets his mother read the first few pages. She doesn’t quite understand it, the little pieces of English sprinkled in for the words he can’t fully describe in Korean, yet it almost feels like enough. A new silent understanding between them.
He picks up another job tutoring kids in Seoul on their grammar, reading more essays that were obviously pushed through Google Translate and haphazardly written in the searing heat. And, when he comes home, it’s just Hobak. And a stack of papers he’s been left to grade.
He gets an undercut—something that Ria laughs at, another thing his mother dislikes and scolds him for, but his dad occasionally rubs the uneven sides and fondly touches the back of his neck. The closest thing to a good job that Taehyun’s ever getting, and he holds onto the feeling too much.
It’s summer when he travels back to the family farm in Andong and gets grass stains; blistering when Taehyun walks with his grandma too often on the old roads, asking her about the old tteokbokki stand that disappeared. It’s a temporary solution to what he calls home, but Taehyun can’t spend the entirety of summer waiting for his phone to buzz.
LA—such an evil place and city, taking everything Taehyun loves. Micheal Jackson on the Walk of Fame and no one fully appreciating his artistry. His closest cousin that can only fly back two weeks before Taehyun’s summer break ends. And Kai.
Kai.
Kai—he’s coming back.
That’s what Taehyun tells himself, yet the loneliness in his heart remains. Kai has an internship in Los Angeles, where it burns in the summer and young stars are born under pressure. Kai’s apartment still has some remains of his life there, never fully moving out since he plans to come back sooner than later. It’s just hard having your best friend gone.
In the meantime, he takes a picture of the lamb that licks the underside of his face and shows Kai.
27 June 2024
To hyuka
[attached.jpg]
Reminded me of u
From hyuka
aw
i miss u too
let’s call on sunday :)
3 August 2024
From hyuka
im almost there
terminal 22
Give me a sec
To hyuka
k i’m waiting at terminal 26
Black sudan
Taehyun wraps himself in his puffer jacket more tightly; biting his lip, he’s anxious. For what even? It’s just him. Picking up Kai from the airport.
His phone buzzes some more—beeps with reminders. GMail—check that one student’s email. Alyssa—she can’t send in her homework; something about vacation. Jonathan—he’s leaving home for a boy scouts trip. But, there’s a little spot in his eyes right now, something that vaguely looks like Kai in the distance.
It’s only when the spot moves closer, when Taehyun can see enough, that he jolts up with realization. Before he thinks, he runs so fast that he collides with Kai and his lanky bones. He lets the other strangers at the airport watch him, stare a bit at the scene, witness the calamity of it all because Taehyun touches the thing he’s missed for so long.
The suitcase in Kai’s left hand, the little baggie of treats from Starbucks, his anxious face—all of that falls in that instant. There’s an unspoken rule of waiting—to not leave behind your car on the street, to stay close. But, Taehyun’s fingers find Kai’s face, and he forgets.
He forgets.
In a world full of people, Taehyun supposes he forgets when he runs to collect Kai in his arms.
Some things are different. Changed. Molded. But Kai—he’s still him. Tangerines and everything. Taehyun—taking him by touch, by sound, by the faint way Kai looks so shocked but relieved at once—memorizes Kai. To know him and to touch what Taehyun's lost to Santa Monica for so long.
He’s been kissed by the sun, tanned from California, became a beach boy in more ways than one—and Taehyun breathes again. Feels the concave of Kai’s cheek against his fingers, watches the way his hair has changed from blue to black again, how the ends are so long. The corners of his ears are sunburnt, his glasses take up half his face, and Taehyun tries to not focus on the deep, harsh contrast of Kai’s collarbones.
Kai—he’s home; he’s home and beautiful again. Just because Kai’s annoying and ignoring the way Taehyun’s heart thuds and thuds and bursts, he wraps his arms around Taehyun’s waist, bent down to accommodate their height difference, dismissing the complaints that bubble from Taehyun’s throat.
You should’ve called more—I called you every week. You’re too muscular and boney now—I know, I know, LA is evil like that. Did you see the photos I posted on Instagram—I did, I did.
The words—they’re not pressed into his skin, but they tickle Taehyun’s ear with hushed warm breaths. It’s strange being able to hear Kai with full clarity and not in some bathroom break or with his apartment’s shitty Wifi. But, he wraps his arms a little tighter around the base of Kai’s neck, feeling the faint idea of a memory between them.
They rock there, back and forth, Kai’s hands pressed into Taehyun’s waist. Kai’s hat, pushed to the side from Taehyun’s relentless attempts to see the change in his face, occasionally bumps his shoulder whenever Kai leans too forward. That should warrant more fussing, more nitpicking from Taehyun, but it all dies within him.
“Was LA good?” he asks, fingers still tangled in Kai’s hair.
Taehyun feels the way Kai hums. “It was good. I was able to produce something for Justin Bieber-nim.”
Then, Taehyun jolts back, processing the words and smiling brightly. “You did? That’s crazy!”
Kai, shy now, pushes his face back into Taehyun’s shoulder blade. “It’s just a demo. Probably not going anywhere, but—”
“No,” Taehyun firmly states. He takes a step back, finally seeing Kai in his entirety again. “That’s good. No matter where it goes, it was good.”
And, Kai smiles at him. “I guess so,” is spoken like a soft rumble, and their fingers intertwine with each other before breaking.
They’re most likely taking up so much space and being annoying in public, so Taehyun untangles their bodies properly and quickly picks up Kai’s dropped pastries.
Kai, in the background, makes a small whine, “You made me drop my egg tarts.”
“I did not. You dropped them.”
“Because you rushed at me!”
“Details, details. I never held them, so, therefore, I never dropped them.”
When Kai gets annoyed enough, snappy with his words, Taehyun holds his hand again, fingers finding the little groves and the concave of Kai’s palm. The suitcase behind him bumps whenever the ground is too uneven, and Taehyun ignores it in favor of guiding them back to his car.
“I lied earlier. I actually hated LA. I cried almost everyday,” Kai admits, just loud enough for Taehyun to catch even when someone in the background yells for a taxi.
I missed you —it’s spoken underneath Kai’s words .
Because Taehyun is kind enough, he rolls his eyes. Says something similar back to him that only Kai knows. “I know. I hated it too.”
I missed you too.
June 1, 2024
Subject: people
taehyun <[email protected]>
i don’t know if people are supposed to mean this much to me.
August 10, 2022
Subject: lost
taehyun <[email protected]>
Don’t we touch each other just to prove we are still here? I was still here once. – ocean vuong
i need to stop letting my queerness be a tragedy. one day, i'll be brave. one day, i'll love so deeply it stops being one. one day, one day one day. the sun will set, and i will climb into bed with a body i know.
14 August 2024
To hyuka
can u come over today?
From hyuka
(╭ರ_•́)
hmmmmmmmm
p sure i can after 3
mandatory meeting for the band
💔
To hyuka
it’s alright
Thats cool 👍
whenever is fine, so no rush
From hyuka
🙆
Taehyun cares more than he should, admittedly. He calls Ria—aproximately 5 times. In the past hour. Her hushed whispers of, “It’s fine, it’s fine,” and “who cares about a birthday cake anyways,” float in the background, becoming lost as noise, existing as nothing rather than anything.
He only grows a backbone again when the doorbell rings.
Flint in his hand, Hobak in the corner of his bedroom, Kai on his doorstep.
Cause and effect—a sloppy summer affair. Everything is hot and withering. Something along those lines that makes Taehyun’s heart thud. Kai’s still beautiful—tainted by LA, somehow pieced together by Hawaii, and molded back into Seoul again.
“What’s—” Kai looks around, eyes sparked up in one second. Sparse decorations and half blown-up balloons and everything. Loose streamers. The lame card on the table. “All this?”
Taehyun, because he takes enjoyment out of being unhelpful, shrugs. “Beer?”
It’s true—there’s beer. Twelve cans. And egg tarts.
Then, Kai turns back to Taehyun, unnerving and still. He glances, up and down, just to catch the shift in Taehyun's face. It must say everything—the jitters, what Taehyun can’t keep, the underlying tone of we’re getting closer to dying, Kai—can you feel it.
“You,” Kai starts, and Taehyun’s mouth goes into a thin line.
“Planned—”
“Planned is a stretch.”
Kai breathes, even louder, “Me—”
Taehyun resorts to digging his foot into the carpet. “You were thought of for a second.”
“A birthday party,” Kai finishes. Excited, fingers crawling up Taehyun’s back, letting his keychains from Anime Expo on his backpack jingle when he dances in place.
“I planned to drink,” Taehyun corrects, exposed raw and thin. Lying is a talent of his; an indulgence for him on most days. The beer’s barely anything special, just something at the convenience store, a pick-up he ordered from Uber Eats. They say on Reddit it takes 3 or 4 cans minimum to fully get wasted with that brand; Taehyun thinks his sobriety is already gone, somehow.
He ignores the blooming feeling in his chest; something that always happens when Kai touches him—more than he’s ever spoken for, everything he’s ever wanted. Simultaneously good and dangerous.
Intoxication—it’s really simple.
“I have many goals,” Taehyun states, avoiding the acknowledgement. “Alcoholism is one of them.”
But, maybe Kai reads him clearly as crystal. Fingers cradle each other, Kai pulls Taehyun closer to his own couch, and they sit together; legs tangled, dirty socks on Taehyun’s precious carpet, Hobak distantly meowing.
A simple crack of a beer can, Kai’s lip tipped too far up in content, Taehyun’s eyes working too well.
All things are calamities—twenties, Taehyun letting his big toe brush a bare calf that isn’t his, and Kai saying, “Mine too.”
(They get drunk after 5 cans. Seven left on Taehyun’s table made with glass and wood, something his mother bought last Winter quarter. Kai shows him a SpongeBob impression; Taehyun hisses through his teeth when he laughs hard.
"Would you want to do something?"
Anything.
Taehyun plays with his earring, innocent and curious. "What is it?"
Kai takes a can, tips it closer to his lips, and drinks it whole before placing it between their two bodies. Taehyun tries to ignore the movement of his throat, Adam's apple up and down, the little drip of beer on Kai's chin when he missed his mouth a few times.
Spin the bottle gets played—which is kind of useless amongst two people because Taehyun’s heart giggles too much when it lands on Kai, laughs when he has to peck the side of Kai’s mouth, dampens something inside him when Kai traces his left dimple with tongue. He grabs the front of Kai’s shirt—a faint memory of what he’s supposed to be, supposed to do, but it’s always a touch that doesn’t matter.
They break off sooner than Taehyun wants. Kai looks at him longer than Taehyun knows. A new can opens; beer fizzes all over his table. Nothing much is spoken afterwards. There are no what are we’s; what will we be—it dies on Taehyun’s throat. Because he's kind in the way he doesn't burden Kai. Make him think about the consequences, the meaning, the intricacies of what Taehyun usually entails.
Familiarity and forgetting; that’s all Taehyun knows.
It’s a summer affair.
Something unreal. Mostly unmemorable. You’re supposed to forget about them once the sun sets.
Except Taehyun doesn’t.)
September 1, 2024
Subject: new things
taehyun <[email protected]>
I have a hard time knowing what’s good. I feel like i have so many regrets, and so little time. College is so weird. You can work your ass off and still never feel like anything’s enough. your mother will say---work harder; your father will tell you---there is better, more you're supposed to live for, work for. i have all my life to learn, to think, to feel, but for now i only have weeks until i fail something new.
September 11, 2024
Subject: tips to being alive
taehyun <[email protected]>
delete instagram at least once a week (redownload only to update ria about her crush), call parents more (or less), implement weekly runs to barnes and noble, read in the kids section of the library, drive to the beach, collect sand crabs just to let them go, dance without music, live in a walkable city, eat more sugar cookies, start a movie blog, make a tumblr
October 17, 2024
Subject: me
taehyun <[email protected]>
People have said i’m hard to know. Maybe it’s true, but is it? I feel like i’m constantly a ghost of the people i’ve loved—my passcode is the same as my aunt’s before she passed. I fall in love with the flowers my mother likes—first it was tulips, now it’s david austin roses. I pet hobak the same way my dad rubs the backside of my head. I still recycle a playlist from the boy i drove across an entire city to kiss.
20 October 2024
From Soobin
WASIAN ATTACK
[attachment1.jpg]
[attachment2.jpg]
[attachment3.jpg]
[attachment4.jpg]
[attachment5.jpg]
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[attachment7.jpg]
[attachment8.jpg]
[attachment9.jpg]
To Soobin
STOP SENDING PHOTOS OF RANDOM WASIAN MEN
From Soobin
[attachment10.jpg]
[attachment11.jpg]
Soobin is typing…
He places a hand on his hip, realization dawning on him all at once. Kai taps two watermelons, asking occasionally which sounds more hollow. Taehyun’s not entirely focused, so he vaguely points in between the two.
They’re picking out this week’s groceries together, something to split between the two of them after the car ride home. However, Taehyun—he’s thinking. The grocery chart squeaks too loudly whenever he leans too much on it, Kai doubtfully looks at Taehyun’s choice, and, finally, the words slip.
“I—” he says, slow and thoughtful, “I haven’t been inside your apartment before.”
Kai turns back at him. “That’s not true,” he replies, confident enough in his choice and finally bringing one of the watermelons back to the cart. Then, because he’s closer to Taehyun, Kai tucks back one of Taehyun’s stray hairs. “Remember? You came back drunk that one time?”
Yeah, no— Taehyun prefers to forget that. He left too early for it to be anything significant, and half his memories are filled with tangerines. What he can remember—it’s not anything notable. It’s in some abandoned list in his Notes app; Kai enjoys Molang plushies staring at him in his sleep, he buys house slippers from Daiso.
Feeling some heat collect in his cheeks, he turns to the other side. Giving a low whistle and a good glance at the ground. Patting Kai’s bicep to dismiss the memory. “I try to not recall that night too much.”
Kai gives him a strange look, reading his expression a few times before responding, “Well, it did happen.”
Taehyun frowns, easily ignoring what's been said. “Okay, but you spend half your time in mine.”
“Because you know how to make dinner!” Kai refutes, leaning a bit onto the cart. “And you hate when I cook,” he points out and casually plays with Taehyun’s earring. Hot hands touching cool metal; Taehyun tries to not let the heat consume him again.
“That’s true, but,” Taehyun trails off, eyeing the mole on Kai’s neck again. There’s a point to be made. His Celsius stash is depleting, just from Kai alone. Some of Kai’s socks are mixed into Taehyun’s laundry. Beer cans he hasn’t touched since Kai kissed him. Everything---in his life---seemingly holds Kai in it. The little bits of vitality, the memories he keeps, everything almost feels reclaimed by him. And, there's something missing; the same act of knowing from Taehyun to Kai.
The intentional deed of understanding the life he lives and leads; what Kai thinks about when the day's over. If loving someone means knowing them, seeing them whole, then Taehyun wants more---the best he can get, the pieces that Kai is willing to show and display.
You are my best friend, it feels like a whisper, I want to put my love in the right places. I want to know you, I want to exist where you do.
“I just want to see your place,” Taehyun tries instead. It’s a lame reason, sort of a white lie and a half-truth, yet Kai seems to understand when his fingers loosely tangle with Taehyun’s.
“Well,” Kai bites his lip, a little sheepish. He blows some of his fringe out of his face, just because it's still long on the ends and Taehyun scolded him the last time he used safety scissors to cut them. “It’s not… that great at the moment.”
Taehyun rolls his eyes. “I don’t mind,” he shrugs, his thumb brushing Kai’s. Then, Taehyun breaks off from Kai's hands to push back some of the hair in his face, returning the same kind act back to him. A portion of it is plastered on his forehead from sweat, but Taehyun doesn't chide him.
There’s a small push of their cart into the market, while some other street vendor calling out to bystanders, noise just filling the background.
“Everything’s just everywhere, though,” Kai answers, unhelpfully.
If Taehyun digs his brain, maybe a vague memory of Kai’s messy room appears, but it’s mostly blank. Just faint memories of a pungent tangerine scent.
“Things don’t have to be great for me to see,” Taehyun finds himself responding.
Then, because he is curious enough, Taehyun moves towards the peaches, detaching himself fully from Kai in a split-second. Casually, when Kai follows behind with his footsteps, Taehyun squeezes each one and tests their firmness. “I just want to know you.”
“You already know me enough.” A chin rests on his shoulder.
“I know you only like drinking the Red Bulls in my fridge,” Taehyun corrects, shuffling some of the fruits into his plastic bag.
Breath tickles his ear. “Isn’t that good enough?”
Taehyun tries to shrug, but his shoulder bumps too much against Kai’s neck, so it’s clumsy and awkward when Kai’s Adam’s Apple bobs. He laughs too hard as Kai recoils back, hissing at the contact.
“You know me,” he says, slotting the peaches in the baby seat of the grocery cart. “I always want more.”
November 2, 2024
Subject: propaganda
taehyun <[email protected]>
Propaganda i’m falling for: searching up flowers reblooming to let myself hope at 5 am, the intimacies of sharing a red bull stash, making coffee barefoot, soju (getting sick of beer), whispering thank you to every tea and coffee i sip, relistening to every broadway musical, saying i am loving and lovely, and seoul seoul seoul seoul seoul
November 2, 2023
Subject: and’s
taehyun <[email protected]>
I hope someone will say and — rather than but — when they mouth to me an “i love you”. i’ve lived so much with yet’s, asterisks, maybe’s; and one day, i’ll be taken whole rather than broken down.
Weeks later, Taehyun ends up at Kai’s apartment. Sober this time.
It’s simple. Vaguely familiar. Everything about Kai’s place feels like a memory; of course, it’s a near duplication of Taehyun’s entire apartment from the structure alone, but existence means tangibility. To meet life is to be changed.
Kai keeps photos of his pet rock Huening Lionel Mbappé by the windowsill, and the birth certificate hangs on the wall, touched by sunlight everyday. Taehyun doesn’t have the heart to tell him that there’s a typo.
There’s musical scores pinned to the wall, the keyboard tucked in a corner, Kai’s guitar that Taehyun can recognize in a heartbeat. If he squints enough, he catches the scribblings of something new before Kai covers it with his hand; band secrets, he lamely answers when Taehyun asks, I’d have to sell you to One Direction if I said anything more.
Then, Taehyun’s fingers find it.
Bent over the TV stand, he discovers a series of photo frames tucked on the different levels. Little traces of younger Kai—throughout middle school with awkward bangs that cover his eyes, the in-betweens of puberty and proper teenage hood where he dressed in Batman shirts on the regular, the year in Shanghai Kai left behind where a girl loosely hangs off his shoulders in a bar and kisses the cleft of his cheek.
Nose red and blotchy—when Kai presses the tip against the microphone, singing for his middle school band; Adam’s Apple strong and defined when it displays the press of lipstick on his neck from that night in Shanghai.
A stain right against the mole.
He tries to not care; it’d be hypocritical, wrong, unjust for him to be.
But, Taehyun does—his heart is violent and pounds and bleeds and hurts him so badly with every breath. The side of the frame digs deeper into his palm, he looks harder than he should, he tries to flick his eyes between new subjects in the other photos at the bar.
He notices the placement of hands, limbs against each other, the size of the group, what Kai left behind, what Kai has become, what Kai never speaks of. The soft scrape of nails on skin—subtle, nothing, a Cheshire smile from one of them, a shy and dazed look at the camera from the other, just shoulders against one another between Kai and this girl, yet…
A life before—it’s real and tangible and Kai barely acknowledges it. Something Taehyun doesn't know. Something Taehyun shouldn't understand—that's what Kai implies when he skirts around the conversation.
“Oh.”
Kai’s voice is right behind him.
Back just slightly straighter, Taehyun turns to him, mouth slightly open and free, begging to know more than snapshots, but Kai seems focused on something else.
“I usually hide those.” Letting out a sigh, his fingers quickly try to scoop up some of the picture frames in Taehyun’s hands.
Taehyun’s breath hitches, caught red-handed.
“Why?”
Kai shrugs. “I was a pretty awkward kid before coming to Seoul. Y’know. Not that good looking back then,” he explains, plain and simple. No elephant in the room, no explanation about Shanghai, China, girls in bars on his tongue. “I get embarrassed whenever people see them.”
“I–” That’s when something evil takes over in Taehyun. Something evil, twisted, damning. He breathes, but it’s not quick enough. Not fast enough to stop it all. He allows his to mouth slip and speak and say, “I’d disagree.”
“Hm,” Kai’s hums, eyes suddenly more alert and facing Taehyun.
“I—I think you’re beautiful,” Taehyun repeats to forget Shanghai and Kai. Nails on skin, lipstick stains on places he’s never touched before with intention. “On some occasions.”
It’s something spoken, a sin, some step forward by Taehyun when he should be reeling back. Kai just tilts his head down, trying to match Taehyun’s eyes, accounting for the slight height difference. It’s not tangible enough to mean anything, the slight bend of his head, the eyes that follow his every move, but Taehyun feels too exposed. Raw. Something in between those lines.
“You think so?”
Kai tries—key word is tries—to rub the exposed skin in between Taehyun’s neck and collarbones. He’s always been touchy, making his mark, saying apologies with the warmth of his fingertips against Taehyun’s body. Awakening, damning, dawning all at once. There’s something existing in Taehyun, all consuming even, that does his best to shake off Kai’s long, thick fingers.
“We should just ignore what I said,” he says resolutely.
That’d be good. For both of them. Probably at least. Taehyun knows the consequences of saying words that are damning. Damning—revolting, wanting, feeling—with all his emotions mixed together.
But something shifts. Like clockwork.
Something fucking shifts when Kai rolls his eyes.
Taehyun blinks, catching the slight change in the air. “What?”
And Kai—he catches himself and looks reluctant. In between. It’s only when Taehyun stares into his eyes, prodding and pressing for a real answer for a few seconds that Kai relents.
Sighing, he runs a hand through his hair—tired, beaten, a begging in his tone that Taehyun isn’t familiar with.
“It’s just,” Kai answers, thoughtful and contemplative when he approaches Taehyun a little closer.
“You do that a lot.”
A step back from Taehyun in retaliation; two steps forward from Kai to quickly close distances, to watch the way heat trickles at the back of his neck, to play with the earring on Taehyun’s right lobe.
“Do what?”
Hands follow the cleft of his cheek. They press—blunt fingertips on his body; they won’t scratch, exist, mean anything afterwards.
“You always insist on forgetting these things,” Kai insists, digits moving down and coolly tracing the pulse against Taehyun’s neck, “between us.”
Thick fingers press further onto some sensitive skin, something that Kai vaguely knows from their maybe-makeout in August, and Taehyun tries to not shiver underneath it all.
Taehyun follows his face, the little scrunch of his eyebrows, when Kai’s lips become thin and distraught.
What things?
Taehyun tries—he really does—to think. To recall it all.
But, what things?
They both know there aren’t things. Real, tangible ideas anyways—in comparison to pink lipstick on the crevices of your neck and acrylics scratching pale skin at least.
Kai and him—they kissed once, forgot each other more than enough times, exchanged silly secrets over a can of Monster Energy. Nothing like bars in Shanghai or boys from Seoul that Taehyun’s abandoned; it’s nothing that could mean anything. There’s a difference—a distinctive one, something that Taehyun can’t say, but something drawn in the sand when it’s vaguely— you don’t want me to know about a life before, what happened in Shanghai, what happened to you, who you are, I don’t want to care but I do I do I do I do.
Then, something beats inside of him; familiarity, predator catching prey, the little way Kai’s fingers tilt Taehyun’s chin back up. Taehyun—he’s waiting to be touched, fumbling his way through another moment, watching his best friend acknowledge the something they’ve both promised to forget. Beer—soju—sacrifice; Taehyun tries to breathe, to think when Kai’s fingers prod too hard and find the indent between his shoulder and collarbone. A faint memory of what Taehyun’s only experienced.
Breathe—Taehyun—in and out. Breathe, Taehyun, breathe breathe breathe— breathe.
“It’s what’s good for us,” comes out of Taehyun, repeating it in his mind, and it sounds only slightly above a murmur.
Forgetting—a concept he’s practically buddies with; Kai’s gaze—soft, inviting, scary, everything Taehyun’s avoiding. He’s been celibate for the past year; it’s a fake vow to God, a prayer to the things he knows, a ticket to hell and temptation when he wants…
Fuck.
What does he want?
Taehyun crumbles underneath touch easily, finds his hands tugging at the loose strands of his jacket, avoids the feeling in his stomach. Kai—he’s never marked Taehyun, made his presence into something tangible on Taehyun's body; however, there’s another tight grip of Taehyun’s shoulder blades, asking for a real answer, questioning, wondering, thinking.
You’d want it though, right, Taehyun? You’d want him to bruise you, Taehyun. He’s not sure. You’d want him to touch you—where it matters, where it lasts, where you know. He recoils back, flinching whenever Kai follows his movements. It doesn’t have to mean something, Taehyun; nothing if you don’t think, nothing if you believe in it. You could know it, too.
Mouth falling to a frown, watching how Taehyun folds into himself, Kai looks unsurprised.
“How do you always know what’s best?” he questions, mouth hissing when it needs to, when Taehyun wants to shut it up.
Maybe Taehyun doesn’t know shit; he’s stumbling, watching himself become bruised, letting himself dive faster than he knows.
Kai would hate him quoting Reddit— don’t kiss your friends because hell is coming. Ria's guy best friend blocked her after she confessed. Taehyun only knows the common touch of boys who don’t remember him, who don’t know his name, who only remember what his car looks like with fogged up windows.
This—friends. Real friends. Sloppy and messy. Things in between, bad omens, a reality that can’t exist. There’s a thin line—he’s crossing it; he refuses to say it—the you’ll regret me, it’ll pass, you won’t want me afterwards.
It’ll pass, it’ll pass, it’ll pass.
You'll want to kiss me once; it'll pass. You'll think about me again; it'll pass. You might want me now; it'll pass.
That's everything Taehyun knows, everything he’s been taught from Seoul. Boys who only want sex; boys who know pieces; boys who've taken too much, seen him too raw, broken him down piece by piece. He's been taken, broken down, shaped into something unrecognizable before. Before the want died, before the time passed.
“I—” Taehyun weakly argues back, bringing his face to the ground. “I just know.”
His knees feel flimsy, Taehyun’s throat is dry, and his skin is red from the press of Kai’s digits. Irritated, wanting, believing—Taehyun only knows when it’s from a guy who doesn’t deserve him. Taehyun can only face boys who don’t know him; who can’t remember his coffee order; who don’t hide in the closet when he feeds Hobak.
Touched—and it doesn’t mean anything; touched—and Taehyun’s not sure what he wants. Boys in Seoul; they stay in bars, as separate beings, flings Taehyun eventually forgets when the time needs to pass. They're undocumented affairs, nothing he lingers onto. They're only meant to be nobodies who aren’t supposed to amount to something; there’s too much he ruins when he touches, consequences too great to even want when it all comes back to Kai.
And Kai—he can’t cross that line. He’s asking for something—to become the things he can’t be; Taehyun, in all of his life, can’t let that happen.
What the fuck do you want, Taehyun? To leave. To fucking leave; that’s everything he knows, the entirety of everything.
He sloppily puts on his shoes, creases the backs of his sneakers in a haste, maybe shouts over his shoulder about a fake deadline, and Kai doesn’t stop him.
I can’t forget it —the time I kissed you, and it wasn’t even real. Taehyun’s not sure if that’s right.
I want to remember it—summer heat, your tongue somewhere it wasn’t supposed to be, us together. Taehyun doesn’t even try to call out something kind or a proper goodbye.
I don’t know why you recall it all— that’s everything he knows. He can’t look back. He shouldn’t look back. First mistakes, sloppy ones, everything Taehyun shouldn’t be doing when he’s with Kai—but he does. Taehyun takes the briefest glance before he closes the door and escapes—and Kai just stands there.
Watching.
Waiting.
Eyes are begging and pleading. Patterns; it’s recognition for Taehyun—of what this moment means, of what he wants, of what he’s doing. For something Taehyun can’t believe in, for the things Taehyun can’t sacrifice, for the moments he stops being selfish and wanting and wanting and bleeding.
He rushes to his apartment complex. Maybe closes the door properly or not—Taehyun’s not entirely sure, but Hobak crawls into his arms again when he collapses on the floor.
November 22, 2023
Subject: little prince
taehyun <[email protected]>
But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world — the little prince
i think i hold a lot of love in the world, but i'm not ever sure what to do with it. so i just hope it dies, finds someone who isn't me, manifests in other places that i don't know.
it's strange to say; i suppose people don't think like that, i probably love something that isn't real, but i'd like to mean something one day. i stopped believing in these things like love and limerance and crushes and truth when i was 17; but, 17 is too young to believe in anything and nothing. what did i know about the world at 17? probably nothing, yet also everything.
November 22, 2024
Subject: inside
taehyun <[email protected]>
One day, i’ll gain a love worth remembering. but today, i will lay in my bed. thinking to forget. because it is in me, it is in me, it is alive when i promised to myself i’d forget. the most virginal thing is the promise of kids marrying each other, to not hurt one another in life, but i don't think anyone's promising me that today.