[fanfic] Nightbody

[shadow_paint]

Title: Nightbody
Type: AU, one shot
Genre: Romance/Angst/Fluff (?)
Pairing: Nichkhun/Wooyoung
Words: 8000+

It’s not easy falling in love with someone you barely know anything about.



A/N: I’m finally done with this rather long fic. I can’t be bothered to make it chaptered so here it is all in one shot. Inspired by a movie that most of you would probably know. There’s also a short cameo in here by another member of 2pm that I’ll let you guys guess (it’s not that difficult) since I didn’t name him. Lol! Semi-unbeta’ed cos I got lazy.



It was only Wooyoung’s first day at work, but he seemed to take to waitering like a duck takes to water. The small cafeteria situated just off the main road had surprisingly more customers than he had expected, but most of them seemed to be regulars that were on familiar terms with the boss and the older staff. Most of them complimented him on his smart movements around the cramped little cafeteria, while balancing plates and trays, and his knack for not mixing up orders. The boss seemed satisfied with his performance for now.

It was only when he walked in, late at night when they were almost about to start cleaning up the cafeteria, that Wooyoung began to mess up. There was nothing really special about the way he dressed, a cheap woollen jacket and jeans, a pair of oversized black-framed glasses that did nothing to diminish the brightness of the large doe eyes underneath. As he walked in, the boss broke into a huge smile and greeted him like an old friend. They exchanged greetings, and the boss personally ushered him to an empty table by the corner. There was a magnetic charisma about him that all the staff seemed familiar with. Wooyoung gulped and walked towards him to take his order. His legs felt a little weaker than usual, but it must’ve been all the standing and walking around the entire day.

“You’re new, aren’t you?” smiled the customer. Wooyoung nodded. All day he had been breaking into conversation familiarly with customers he had never seen before in his life, but his ready wit seemed to have been completely lost at this moment. Surely it must be due to the long hours of his shift, he thought.

“That’s right, Wooyoungie here just started today. Already quite a help during the peak dinner period, I have to say!” The boss came over to introduce them. “Wooyoung, this is one of my oldest regulars, Nichkhun. He stays just one street down the road.” They bowed to each other in greeting, though Wooyoung could barely bring himself to look directly at Nichkhun. There was a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

Clearly, Wooyoung had not been paying much attention when Nichkhun ordered his meal, as he made his first ever mistake of the day, relaying the wrong order to the kitchen. Bowing profusely in apology to the boss, Nichkhun and the chef, Wooyoung flushed deep red as he hurriedly went about rectifying his mistake. “You must be tired after such a long shift, Wooyoung,” said the boss, scratching his head. Wooyoung only looked down in embarrassment, flushing deep red at the thought that he just had to make his first mistake in front of Nichkhun.

When the right order was finally done, Wooyoung served it to Nichkhun and apologized once more for the wait. “I demand compensation,” said Nichkhun as he sat back and crossed his arms.

Wooyoung hesitated a little, unsure how to react. “I’ll gladly pay for your meal, Nichkhun-sshi.”

“That’s not enough. You can compensate me by sitting here and chatting with me while I eat.”

Wooyoung looked up in surprise, evidently taken aback. There was the ghost of a smile on Nichkhun’s face, and his eyes twinkled brighter than ever. The boss chuckled near the cashier and dismissively waved at Wooyoung to give him his permission. After all, there were no other customers left in the cafeteria and there was technically nothing left for Wooyoung to do.

Awkwardly, Wooyoung slid into the opposite seat of the booth, his hands still clasped on his knees and his head bowed in embarrassment. Nichkhun took up his chopsticks and spoon, beginning to dig into his meal. “So, tell me more about yourself.” Wooyoung blinked, but Nichkhun had already started eating and was looking at him expectantly. Clearing his throat, Wooyoung began talking about how he came from another region, and how he was presently in the capital for his studies, and now it was a long holidays for the school so he had taken up a temporary job to earn some money. Nichkhun silently listened, occasionally inserting some questions to prompt him to continue further. Wooyoung grew more and more relaxed as he talked on, unintentionally opening himself up to a complete stranger.

There was something engaging in the way Nichkhun spoke. Even though he volunteered little information about himself, but he could carry on an interesting conversation without speaking very much. His display of complete attentiveness was also pleasing to any listener, and he certainly wasn’t bad to look at either. They departed in good humour, and Wooyoung couldn’t find the guts to ask him when he would return again.

The next day, Nichkhun didn’t appear. He didn’t appear again either the day after, or the day after that. The boss didn’t seem surprised at Nichkhun’s continued absence, so it was perhaps normal for Nichkhun to only make an appearance at irregular intervals. Still, everyday he wretchedly waited, in the hopes that every last customer was to be him, but only to close the shop in disappointment. Wooyoung thought he was going crazy. He didn’t know, or didn’t want to think about, why he felt an inquenchable longing to see Nichkhun again.

It was almost one week later, when the store was just about to close and the last customer had already left. Wooyoung had almost just about given up hope, his face crestfallen as he mopped the floor of the cafeteria. The bell of the door rang, and Wooyoung looked up lacklusterly to inform the newcomer that they were already closed for the day, when he finally laid eyes once again upon Nichkhun. “Nichkhun-sshi?” he asked, feeling as if a balloon was rising inside of him. It took every ounce of his effort to suppress the grin creeping up on his face.

“Oh, are you guys closed already?” grinned Nichkhun as he walked in, his hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket.

“Nichkhun!” the boss bellowed in greeting as he walked out of the kitchen. “Been a while since you last came. We’re closed but if you really want, I could get the chef to cook your usual for you as a take-away.”

“I’d appreciate that a lot, thanks!” called out Nichkhun gratefully. The boss waved and went back into the kitchen, leaving Wooyoung alone with Nichkhun in the cafeteria.

Wooyoung’s grip on the mop handle significantly tightened as he stood stonily in the middle of the cafeteria. Hadn’t he been waiting for this for the whole week? Now that Nichkhun was finally in front of him, all the conversational topics he had rehearsed in his head seemed to fly straight out of the window. He looked down at the floor awkwardly and absent-mindedly scratched the wooden handle of the mop.

When he looked up once more, Nichkhun seemed to have walked up towards him in his distracted state of mind without him noticing and was presently staring down at him at a closer proximity than Wooyoung was prepared for. He felt an odd skipping of his heart. “How have you been?” he asked, with that small and lingering smile on his face. Wooyoung felt his mouth run dry, as he found himself fixated at staring into his face. What was it about this stranger that seemed to captivate him so much? He stuttered out some incomprehensible nonsense before the boss walked out of the kitchen and Nichkhun, as if caught in the act, put a bit more distance between himself and Wooyoung. It almost felt as if Wooyoung had been released from a spell.

“Ah, I’m so sorry, Nichkhun-sshi, but the stove has broken down! We’ve managed to prepare the noodles and meat for you, but the soup…” the boss explained, looking into the plastic bag in some perplexion.

“Don’t worry about it, I could eat it without the soup,” said Nichkhun good-humouredly, already fishing out his wallet.

“What!” the boss shrieked, horrified. Although the cafeteria was a small one, but Wooyoung knew that the boss paid great attention to the taste of even his simplest dishes and was perfectionistic in that way. “That is absolutely out of the question. Where would the flavour come from? You have a pot at home, right?”

“Well, y-es…” began Nichkhun uncertainly, not sure where the boss was going with this.

“Fantastic. I’ll give Wooyoung the ingredients and he can help you cook the soup. He’s been helping out in the kitchen sometimes this week and that’s the only part of the dish I’d trust him enough to make, honestly. It won’t take more than 10 minutes of your time and then you can enjoy the meal as it’s meant to be enjoyed.”

“Eh?!” Wooyoung blurted out, staring wide-eyed at the boss in disbelief.

“Come on, Wooyoung,” grumbled the boss impatiently, mistaking Wooyoung's reaction to be one of unwillingness. “It’s almost time for you to knock off anyway, and it’s not like Nichkhun’s house is far away. I’ll pay you a little overtime if you want.”

“That’s not my main concern,” mumbled Wooyoung under his breath, but the boss didn’t hear him as he bustled back into the kitchen to get the ingredients. Wooyoung looked at Nichkhun, who glanced at him almost apologetically. There was another strange flutter arising from the pit of Wooyoung’s stomach, and to hide the rising heat on his face, he quickly dodged to the back room to change.

Carrying the plastic bag full of noodles and ingredients, Wooyoung trudged alongside Nichkhun down the road which was now empty besides the occasional passing car. There was a poignant silence between them.

“Are you afraid of me?” asked Nichkhun suddenly, in a soft voice, his eyes focused on the road ahead. Wooyoung turned abruptly, staring at him in alarm.

“N-No?! Where did you get that idea?” Wooyoung protested eagerly.

“You just seem a little uncomfortable sometimes, when I’m around. But I’m glad to hear that, anyway,” Nichkhun smiled at him. Wooyoung felt a little weak inside.

Nichkhun’s house turned out to be only a 10 minutes walk away from the cafeteria. It was in a rather small and dingy apartment building, in a quiet neighbourhood. His rooms were small, with the kitchen combined with the living room and linked to a small bedroom. There was little furniture, but despite the bareness of the place, it was still as tastefully decorated as was possible, and kept tidy. There was a simplicity in the décor that Wooyoung felt comfortable with almost immediately.

“Sorry it’s a little small,” said Nichkhun. “I’ll go get the pot ready then.” As he walked towards the kitchen cabinets, Wooyoung noticed that he didn’t close the front door fully, as if he was afraid that Wooyoung might feel uncomfortable being alone with him. Walking towards the door, Wooyoung gently shut it.

As Wooyoung cooked the soup, Nichkhun got out his utensils and plates, offering to share the meal with Wooyoung but he declined, stating that he had already had his dinner at the cafeteria earlier. When the soup was ready, Wooyoung carefully poured it into the bowl of noodles and meat, mixed it and put it on a placemat on the dining table.

“I’ll help you clean the pot,” offered Wooyoung. He wondered if he just wanted an excuse to stay a little longer.

“It’s OK, I’ll wash it up later along with my bowl.”

“Oh,” Wooyoung shuffled his feet awkwardly. “In that case, I should probably not disturb you then. Enjoy your meal.”

He turned to leave, but Nichkhun grabbed his wrist. Wooyoung turned back around, surprised, and not to mention a little flustered at the feel of Nichkhun’s hand on his wrist. “If you don’t mind, could you stay?” asked Nichkhun a little hesitantly. “I’d… like someone to talk to while I eat.”

With gratifying smile, Wooyoung nodded. Once again, their conversation largely consisted of Wooyoung talking about himself and his history, prompted mainly by Nichkhun. Every time Wooyoung attempted to turn the tables on him, Nichkhun never failed to have a natural and almost imperceptible way of dodging the questions and turning the conversation back towards Wooyoung again. The only real information he managed to get out of Nichkhun about himself was merely that he was a year older than Wooyoung, and was not studying at the moment.

*******

After that, it became a new habit of Nichkhun’s to call up the cafeteria once in a few days and ask for a delivery after hours, a task which Wooyoung would gladly take on now that he knew the way to Nichkhun’s house. Sometimes Nichkhun would pop by the cafeteria instead, after which Wooyoung would insist on walking him back to his apartment and sitting around to chat more. Despite becoming fast friends for the past month and a half, it soon became frustrating to Wooyoung that he still knew close to nothing about Nichkhun, while he had just about poured out his entire life history to him already. He had once teased him about it, but Nichkhun’s expression had turned so crestfallen so abruptly that Wooyoung quickly changed the subject.

It also soon became obvious to Wooyoung that his initial attraction towards Nichkhun had not been a mere infatuation. The more he spent time with him, the more he grew to understand his own feelings towards him. There was something broken about Nichkhun, which Wooyoung did not know the origin to, but the quiet and unpossessed way in which he tried to pick up the pieces in his life and make the best out of what he had was both admirable and intensely attractive to Wooyoung. It was probably this natural optimism that made his presence so magnetic, even to the staff of the cafeteria who seemed to dote on him the most amongst the regular customers.

It was one night that everything changed. There was the usual call by Nichkhun to the cafeteria, asking for his usual set to be delivered once again. Nowadays, it had gotten to become such a ritual that at the first sound of the phone ringing near the cafeteria’s closing hours, the chef would already begin preparing Nichkhun’s usual set and Wooyoung would drop his tasks gleefully to change and get ready to knock off. Carrying the plastic delivery bag, Wooyoung trudged in the direction of Nichkhun’s apartment, smiling to himself as he thought of the weird stories of customers he would tell Nichkhun today.

When Nichkhun opened the door, Wooyoung was taken slightly aback to see that he was wearing a large face mask, and only his eyes were visible above it, shining with delight at the sight of Wooyoung. “Are you sick, hyung?” asked Wooyoung in concern as he stepped into the apartment.

“Yes,” said Nichkhun. His voice, though muffled, sounded perfectly fine to Wooyoung and nothing like a person down with a cold. He took the plastic bag from Wooyoung and set it on the coffee table in front of the sofa before he sat down and looked as if he was about to begin eating. Wooyoung stood, waiting for him to take off the mask. As though it finally struck Nichkhun that he had to take off the mask in order to eat, he put down his chopsticks in a hurry and packed up the food again and stood up. “I think I’ll just eat this later! Or are you hungry?”

“Hyung,” Wooyoung said, in a tone that brooked no opposition as he stepped up closer to Nichkhun, who stood as if frozen, looking down at Wooyoung. He thought he read something like panick in his eyes. Gently, Wooyoung raised a hand and brushed it across Nichkhun’s ear, before he unfastened the elastic band of the mask and let it fall off Nichkhun’s face.

Wooyoung gasped softly as his eyes widened in alarm. There was an angry swelling purple bruise across Nichkhun’s cheekbone, and another red one at the corner of Nichkhun’s mouth. Nichkhun averted his eyes away from Wooyoung as if in shame. Wooyoung’s fingers brushed softly across the bruises. “Who did this, hyung?” he asked, unable to stop a quivering anger in his voice.

“It’s nothing,” Nichkhun jerked his face away from Wooyoung’s touch and replaced the face mask. He sat back down on the sofa, not saying another word. Silently, Wooyoung got a liniment from the first aid box and sat down beside Nichkhun. Ignoring Nichkhun’s protests, he ripped off the face mask and began to apply the medication lightly onto his bruises. Nichkhun eventually gave up protesting since Wooyoung didn’t seem to have any intention of heeding it, and instead sat silently allowing Wooyoung to tend to his injuries, occasionally cringing whenever Wooyoung touched a particularly sore spot.

When the bruises were done being tended to, Wooyoung grabbed Nichkhun’s shoulders and made him look at him properly. “Hyung, tell me what happened.”

“I… don’t ask me, please,” sighed Nichkhun, a surprising amount of exasperation in his voice, as his eyes avoided Wooyoung’s.

“Please,” Wooyoung insisted firmly. “Tell me who you are.”

Nichkhun forced himself out of Wooyoung’s grip and buried his face in his hands. It was only after a long pause that he raised his head again, a set expression on his face as if he had finally made a decision. There was a firmness in his eyes, but yet Wooyoung thought he saw a bit of fear mingled within those emotions.

“The truth is: I’m a social escort. Or, as I hate to call myself, a male prostitute. I sleep with men for money. These bruises you see are a result of a particularly violent client today, and I couldn’t cover them up.

“I’m not proud of what I do, but I do it to make a living. There, you know the truth now. Feel free to be disgusted all you want, I’m used to it. I won’t blame you if you don’t want to see me ever again.” It all came out in a rush of words, as if Nichkhun wanted to get it over and done with before he once again buried his face in his hands, too ashamed to look at Wooyoung. Wooyoung, meanwhile, took a few minutes of silence to digest this information, feeling as if he was being suspended in an unreal state of mind.

A social escort? A male prostitute? Of all the secrets that he had suspected Nichkhun might be hiding, these were the last that would have crossed his mind. His mind was feeding him with conditioned responses, telling him how disgusting it was, and perhaps Nichkhun had lower morals than he had previously thought. But yet, another side of him felt a great pity and an even deeper affection for Nichkhun. What had driven him into this desperate corner? And just because he was in such a job, did it necessarily mean that he was a bad person because of it? At the end of his reverie, Wooyoung was even surprised at himself that disgust was not remotely a prominent part of his reaction to this closely guarded secret of Nichkhun’s.

“Hyung,” he prodded Nichkhun hesitatingly. As Nichkhun slowly raised his face from his hands, Wooyoung gave him a small smile. “Do you have such a low opinion of me to think that I’d turn away from you just because of this? I’m a year younger than you, but I’m not exactly a kid, you know. Even if you treat me like one all the time.”

Nichkhun looked at him doubtfully for a while, before a hesitating smile broke slowly aross his face, as if he didn’t dare to believe what Wooyoung had just said. “Thank you,” he said simply, but Wooyoung was almost surprised at how moved he sounded, though he did little to show or express it. He could read it all in his eyes.

*******

If at first Wooyoung had not been sure how to react to this discovery, he would eventually learn to greatly appreciate the fact that he had finally found out about this, over the next few weeks. What barrier there had been between them seemed finally to be dissolved with the revelation. Nichkhun began, with some embarrassment at first, to talk more about himself, and about his history. Wooyoung learnt that he had been orphaned as an infant. A relative had been forced to take him in, but then had chased him out once the social workers stopped visiting. He had been living in the streets since then, getting by by begging for food and money. Generally people were willing to feed and clothe him when he was a helpless child but as he grew up, they became less and less willing to donate, seeing that he was now a well-abled teenager. So, he had to start finding other means to earn money. Never having had an education, there were not many jobs that he was eligible for, so he had finally resorted to the relatively well-paying route of selling his body. He had never been able to have many friends because few people wanted to associate with someone like him. He had never even told the staff at the cafeteria about what he does for a living.

The more Nichkhun opened up to Wooyoung, the more Wooyoung was surprised to realise that far from being disgusted, he seemed to fall more and more in love with him. Everytime Nichkhun talked about his history, it was only painfully obvious that he constantly felt ashamed of his past and his present, and of himself in general. It was only that innate hopefulness he had that kept him going, and not allow him to completely crumble into a mess of self-depreciation. Wooyoung realised how vulnerable Nichkhun really was, and yet how strong he also stood in his situation in life at the same time. Wooyoung couldn’t even begin to imagine how he himself might have lived if the tables had been turned and if it had been him in Nichkhun’s situation. Nichkhun had tried to evade the topic of his own history for as long as he could, though he had known it would not remain hidden forever, because he had thought that the moment of Wooyoung’s discovery would also spell the end to the friendship that he cherished so much.

“Hyung, I…” started Wooyoung excitedly, holding up the paper bag of food as Nichkhun opened the door. The grin on his face faded as he spotted a fresh new bruise on Nichkhun’s cheek. After that night a few weeks ago, Nichkhun’s bruises had healed and gone away, and hadn’t returned until now. He also looked slightly pale and subdued. With a grim expression on his face now, Wooyoung asked, “What happened now?”

“Same old thing,” waved Nichkhun dismissively, giving Wooyoung a wan smile as he ushered him into the apartment, taking the bag of food off his hands. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Can’t you do something about it? Can’t you say no?” asked Wooyoung exasperatedly, feeling his blood run cold and boil at the same time at the thought of Nichkhun being subjected to such unnecessary violence which he couldn’t even defend himself against.

Nichkhun only smiled palely at Wooyoung, unwrapping the food box. Even without speaking, Wooyoung could read in his smile the helplessness, the shame and yet also the gratitude that Wooyoung was cared to intervene in the first place. Sometimes, Nichkhun’s low opinion of himself irritated Wooyoung. He didn’t see why Nichkhun should believe it was above his station in life to have someone actually caring for him. After the food was eaten, Wooyoung sat Nichkhun down on the sofa and began once again to apply the medication on his bruises for him. This time, Nichkhun didn’t struggle and merely sat silently, allowing Wooyoung’s fingers to lightly rub against the reddish spot on his cheek.

“I think you’ll become an expert in healing bruises eventually,” joked Nichkhun as Wooyoung capped the liniment bottle.

“Hyung, I think we need to talk,” said Wooyoung solemnly. He had been starting to grow tired of hiding, and this fresh injury only strengthened his resolution. As if sensing what was coming up, Nichkhun’s expression grew flustered as he shifted slightly away from Wooyoung.

“About?” he asked, though his voice sounded unsteady.

“Us.”

Nichkhun fell silent. His eyes burned into the ground before him, with an unreadable expression on his face. Whatever he was feeling, it was clear that he wanted to avoid eye contact with Wooyoung at all cost. Gently, Wooyoung placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You know what I’m going to say, don’t you?”

“Please don’t say it.”

“Why not?”

“It can’t… It won’t work. Wooyoung, you know that -“

“I love you.”

Nichkhun turned to stare at Wooyoung, with a stricken expression on his face. Wooyoung maintained the eye contact determinedly, daring Nichkhun to doubt the authenticity of his statement. There was something that looked like a flicker of bliss in Nichkhun’s eyes but it was quickly drowned out by what looked like an immense sorrow. With a sigh, Nichkhun turned away and resumed staring at the floor.

“I’m a social escort, Wooyoung. I’m paid to sell my body. Even if you think you love me now, there’s no way you would be able to stand being with me for long, with what I do. It’s not wise to fall in love with me, Wooyoung. Don’t… Don’t get yourself into this mess of my life. Don’t start what you can’t continue.”

“I am only interested in knowing one thing, hyung - do you love me?”

Nichkhun looked back at Wooyoung, his mouth slightly agape at the directness and firmness of his question. There were a few moments of silence, as if Nichkhun couldn’t make up his mind what to say, or whether he should even tell the truth.

Finally, with an air of resignation, Nichkhun whispered, “From the moment I met you.”

It was all the encouragement Wooyoung needed to shift his body brazenly forward. His arms wrapped around Nichkhun’s neck and drew him closer to himself. It felt surreal and right, like something that should’ve been done long ago. It was only when their lips were a mere short distance apart that Nichkhun stopped himself. “You really might regret this,” he shortly whispered, looking into Wooyoung’s half-lidded eyes.

“Try me,” whispered Wooyoung back before he pushed himself forward and caught Nichkhun’s lips with his own.

At the first moment of contact, it was as if all the emotions threatened to burst forth all at once. Their kiss was painfully desperate, as if each finally realized how darkly intense their feelings have become, being suppressed over the months and months of contact, and both urgently yearned for the release of their passions. Wooyoung ‘s hands clasped Nichkhun’s face as he recklessly pressed his body against Nichkhun’s. The other’s hands traversed under his shirt and up his back, as his tongue hungrily explored his mouth. Wooyoung’s hands quickly unbuttoned Nichkhun’s shirt as his tongue began to swirl in circles over his neck. His skin was uncommonly milky-white, and smelt like a leafy sort of soap. Nichkhun ran a hand through Wooyoung’s hair and pressed his face deeper into his neck, letting out a soft pleasured whimper.

*******

Wooyoung lay next to Nichkhun on the small bed. Having had a tiring day to say the least, after the climax was over, Nichkhun had quickly fallen into a sound sleep next to him. Wooyoung stared at Nichkhun’s side profile. The moonlight shone in through the window and gave Nichkhun’s pale skin almost a blue-ish pearlescence. He was sleeping on his side, and the healing bruise was hidden within the pillow. With his arm draped around Nichkhun, his fingers began to lightly trace the contours of his face.

There was something tragically beautiful about him at this point, and Wooyoung found that he loved him more than ever. He now felt a growing protectiveness over him and his vulnerability, wanting to be the one to finally shield him from the all the trials he had been facing throughout his life. He shifted his body closer to Nichkhun and wrapped an arm around him, his fingers absent-mindedly running gently through his hair.

The next morning, Nichkhun was the first to wake up, and almost seemed alarmed to find himself wrapped tightly in the arms of another person. Whether or not his clients stayed the night, he had always woken up alone and was so used to the feeling, he had expected the same to happen again this morning. This time, not only was he snugly fitted into Wooyoung’s arms, Wooyoung had also fallen asleep with his fingers entangled in Nichkhun’s hair. It was a blissful feeling completely new to Nichkhun, and one which he almost could not believe he would have ever felt in his life. He snuggled closer to Wooyoung, unable to help a smile creeping over his face.

The small movements roused Wooyoung and he shifted a little. “Are you awake?” he mumbled sleepily. Nichkhun nodded, but lifted a hand to stroke Wooyoung’s hair.

“Go back to sleep if you’re tired. I can make us some breakfast.”

“Mmm,” Wooyoung rubbed his eyes sleepily. “But my breakfast is already here.” With that he rolled Nichkhun over onto his back and pinned him down on to the bed with his body weight, beginning to slurp all over his mouth and neck. Nichkhun laughed and tried to push him off, but Wooyoung only grinned sleepily down at him. He leaned down and kissed Nichkhun seriously. “Good morning.”

“Morning,” Nichkhun replied, smiling lazily back up at him, his arm draped around Wooyoung’s neck. With a crash, Wooyoung collapsed into Nichkhun’s neck and began sloppily, half-jokingly nibbling a trail of small kisses down his collarbone.

“Ayy, what’re you doing?” laughed Nichkhun again. “It’s ticklish.”

“Why? Don’t you want me to have a good breakfast?” Wooyoung teased. “I already know what I want to have.” He began to slide himself down Nichkhun’s body, and down under the sheets.

That day was hazy with the glow of first love, and of cheesy lines and further exploration of each other’s bodies. Wooyoung had called in sick for work, and Nichkhun had happily no clients that day. Since Nichkhun had neither a TV nor a laptop, there was nothing much else they could do but talk, chat, eat, kiss and have sex over and over. Having had more experience in these things, Nichkhun had more knowledge to impart to a first-timer like Wooyoung, but when it came to initiative, Wooyoung was almost always the one taking it.

That night as they lay once again bare in each other’s arms, Nichkhun gave Wooyoung a quick peck on the nose. “I’ve never really… been with someone as gentle as you,” he confessed.

Wooyoung smiled and shifted closer to him on the bed. “The difference is in that I actually love you,” he said simply. “Very much, if I might add.” Nichkhun swallowed a lump in his throat. He rested his head on Wooyoung’s shoulder.

“Sometimes it just sounds too good to be true,” he said softly, his eyes staring sadly behind Wooyoung. At this, Wooyoung tightened his arms around Nichkhun, as he continued, “I don’t feel like I’m good enough.”

“Shut up. What you feel is what you are. And what you are - is beautiful.”

Nichkhun lowered his eyes at this statement and held onto Wooyoung a little tighter. “Thank you.”

*******

Weeks turned into months, and the weather got colder. Wooyoung’s school holidays were over, and he had to quit the cafeteria to go back to university. Though the passion between Nichkhun and himself never cooled, but it was not entirely devoid of problems. Every time Nichkhun messaged him to tell him not to come, or when he had to leave his house because a client was due soon, there would always be that stab of jealousy. It was mild at first, when Wooyoung could still convince himself that to endure anything was worth it for Nichkhun, but as time went by, the feeling embedded deeper and began to hurt more.

It was now only a few days to Wooyoung’s birthday, and Nichkhun was teasing him about what he wanted as a birthday present, or what he wanted to do on his birthday. They were in the middle of a playful tickle fight when Nichkhun caught sight of the wall clock and his grin faded. “You have to go, someone’s coming soon.”

Wooyoung’s expression fell. He silently lowered his eyes to the floor and picked up his bag. There was a swelling of something like anger and indignation in him - it had started off merely as a prick of discomfort, but now, Wooyoung was used to feeling almost slightly murderous everytime this happened. “I’ll message you later then,” Wooyoung mumbled in a rather sulky way. Nichkhun nodded, and opened the door for him.

As Wooyoung walked down the apartment building, he passed by a swarthy middle-aged man in a coat that seemed to be headed towards Nichkhun’s apartment. For a moment, he felt an irrepressible urge to attack him, but containing himself at the last moment, he turned away and headed out of the building. Wooyoung stood on the street opposite the building for a while, in the chilly autumn night air, staring up at the lit window that was Nichkhun’s. It wasn’t long, before the lights were turned out.

There was another cold sharp pain in his chest as he turned and began walking in the direction back to his own dormitories. He knew he was at the end of his tether. He didn’t want to give Nichkhun up, but every time this happened, he could feel his very sanity slipping from the uprush of rage and jealousy. It didn’t help when his overactive brain supplied him with mental images of Nichkhun and his clients, locked in some invariably intimate position. Strange men enjoying Nichkhun’s body, when it ought to have been exclusively his. Inane and paranoid thoughts ran through his head, such as wondering if Nichkhun enjoyed being with them as much as he did with Wooyoung. Would Nichkhun compare Wooyoung with them? Did he put Wooyoung at the back of his mind every time he had to be with another person? Wooyoung clenched his fist and kicked a wall, yelling out his suppressed anger.

“Never fall in love with a person who sells himself. It’ll always end up bad,” Wooyoung remembered a line from a movie he had once watched. “First, there is desire. Then, there is passion. Then, suspicion. Jealousy. Anger. Betrayal. Where love is for the highest bidder, there can be no trust. Without trust, there is no love. And jealousy, will drive you mad.”

Wooyoung squeezed his eyes shut, letting the hot tears trickle down his cheeks.

*******

The next day, a day before his birthday, Wooyoung thought he might pay Nichkhun a visit before he headed off to school in the late morning. He did wonder if perhaps Nichkhun might be busy at the time, but it was usually unlikely that he would see anyone at the time. When he reached the door of Nichkhun’s apartment, he was surprised to find it slightly ajar. There was something strange about it. He stood outside the door for a few moments and lightly pushed it further.

There was a crash and Nichkhun skidded onto the ground in front of him, as if he had just been struck by a force. He did not appear to notice Wooyoung standing outside the door. A tall stranger walked into view. Wooyoung had never seen him before. He had a well-built and bulky body, and a rather handsome, though terrifying, face with well-defined cheekbones. Wooyoung saw a familiar bruise was already quickly forming at the corner of Nichkhun’s mouth, as he scrambled to his feet. The stranger grabbed a bunch of Nichkhun’s collar and used some incredible strength to lift him up to his feet, with Nichkhun dangling helplessly from his grip. Wooyoung’s eyes widened and he felt his blood turn cold. There was something resigned and helpless in Nichkhun’s eyes, as if he was used to this treatment. The stranger, meanwhile, looked at Nichkhun with something like utmost contempt and disgust.

“Prostitutes like you disgust me,” he hissed harshly, still holding Nichkhun up by his collar.

“I believe you’ve told me that more than once,” came the soft but sarcastic reply. Wooyoung could see a flash of indignation in Nichkhun’s eyes.

“And you deserve to be told over and over again.”

“So arrest me already, why don’t you? You’ve had the chance for months now, why don’t you just do it?”

“Why should I? Low-lifes like you exist so I could have my fun, isn’t it?”

“I wonder why you bother associating with us low-lifes for fun if you despise us that much.”

“I’ve already arrested most of your kind and put them in jail for illegal sexual soliciting, but you… there’s something different about you. Maybe it’s just your face,” The stranger raised a hand and mockingly stroked Nichkhun’s cheek. It took every ounce of effort for Wooyoung to not burst into the door and tackle the stranger to the ground. Nichkhun jerked his head away from his touch.

As if angered by this, the stranger slammed Nichkhun backwards into the wall with such force that he appeared to visibly have the wind knocked out of him. Thus helpless, the stranger began to violently assault his lips. Nichkhun didn’t resist - or rather, he looked like he had long given up resisting. The stranger unceremoniously pushed Nichkhun’s face to the side as he sucked painfully and deeply on the skin of Nichkhun’s neck, his hand ripping open Nichkhun’s shirt in one violent stroke before he explored his torso agonizingly slowly, his thumb pressing and rubbing his nipples in a way that would most certainly hurt. As the stranger’s hand travelled downwards underneath the rim of Nichkhun’s pants, Wooyoung muffled a cry of the most painful frustration he had ever felt and hastily escaped the building, unwilling to witness more of this humiliation.

Later that evening, Wooyoung made his way back to Nichkhun’s apartment with a heavy heart. He had escaped to a nearby park, where he cried for two hours straight before lifelessly making his way to school, though he had been unable to concentrate properly on any of his lessons. He felt truly exhausted, both physically and emotionally. When Nichkhun opened the door for him, the new bruise at the corner of his mouth only served to jog Wooyoung’s memories of what he had witnessed earlier that day.

“You forgot your sweater from yesterday,” said Nichkhun, producing it from the cupboard. Wooyoung must’ve left it when he had been in a hurry to get out of the house the night before. Wooyoung stonily accepted the sweater and stuffed it into his bag. Nichkhun gripped hold of Wooyoung’s shoulders, his brows furrowed in concern as he asked, “What’s wrong? Have you been crying?”

“Quit your job, please,” Wooyoung stated firmly as he looked up at Nichkhun. There was a chilly change of expression on Nichkhun’s face, as it hardened. He let go of Wooyoung’s shoulders and turned away. “Do you know how painful it is for me to have to see you be with other men?”

Nichkhun glanced at him with an expression of hurt disbelief that Wooyoung did not know how to read, in the mess of emotions that he was in at the moment. “Why are you saying this suddenly?”

“I saw you today. With someone,” Wooyoung was forced to admit. A redness tinged Nichkhun’s cheeks.

“I should’ve told you to stay away, but he comes at the most unpredictable times.”

“How do you stand it? Why do you stand it? Can’t you just quit?” blurted out Wooyoung, his voice raising in volume.

“Quit my job? And survive on what? Love and air? You’re only a student with no income, even your education is being paid for by your parents. Are your parents going to support me too? Besides, it’s not like you didn’t know what I do for a living, before you fell in love with me. I told you it wasn’t wise.”

“Indeed,” Wooyoung snapped, his skin bristling with anger. It was the last straw. “Perhaps you had been right. Perhaps I have been foolish and naïve to think that everything would be all right in the end.”

Nichkhun turned to stare at him, more infuriation in his eyes than Wooyoung had ever witnessed before. “I take it that you’re regretting falling in love with me, as I had said you would.”

“Maybe I am. Maybe I should’ve listened to you all those months back, and not been so stubborn. I must’ve been out of my mind to believe I could fall in love with someone who so willingly places his dignity at the doorstep for the sake of money!”

With that, Wooyoung snatched up his bag and stormed out of the house, slamming the door shut. His mind was in a complete mess as he brisk walked away from the building. He wanted to put as much distance between himself and such a destructive relationship as possible. He couldn’t find it in himself to admit that he loved Nichkhun any less than he did when they first started out, but it was more because he couldn’t see himself putting up with this continual cycle of jealousy for an indefinite period of time. Having to live in the shadows as a boyfriend and having to put up with watching Nichkhun continue the life he was leading now, possibly for an entire lifetime, was more than what Wooyoung could bear. He swore he would go insane sooner or later, so perhaps it was best to end the relationship sooner before they were both in too deep.

*******

It was a subdued birthday that Wooyoung celebrated the next day. In fact, he barely celebrated it at all. He had to lie to his parents when they called to congratulate him on the phone that he wasn’t feeling very well, to make up for his lack of enthusiasm. His classmates had wanted to treat him to dinner, but he had declined with the same excuse. All day, he could think of Nichkhun, but everytime he felt like he ought to go back and apologize, he thought the better of it. He kept replaying that look of disbelief that Nichkhun had shot him before - perhaps he ought not to have said that. As painful as it must’ve been for Wooyoung to endure seeing Nichkhun be with other men, it must’ve been infinitely more painful and humiliating besides, for Nichkhun to be with men he probably didn’t even feel attracted to. Still, however, Wooyoung kept to his resolution that it would be best to end the relationship since he could foresee no real future in it.

*******

With a final thrust and a loud groan, the client reached his climax inside of him. Nichkhun squeezed his eyes shut and panted. The client withdrew a mildly leaking dick and slumped down on top of his body. Nichkhun was obliged to clean it up a little before the client rolled himself to the other end of the bed and proceeded to take a nap on the other side of the bed. The money was already laid out on the bedside desk. When he was certain that the client had fallen asleep, Nichkhun turned away from him and stonily stared out of the window at the rising moon. He pulled the blanket up to cover his bare torso, suppressing that feeling of humiliation that he never failed to experience every single time. His mind was far away from this little apartment now, unwilling to immerse himself in the humiliating reality as he began wondering what Wooyoung was doing at the moment. It didn’t matter, though. Nichkhun knew he wasn’t coming back. They never did.

He blinked, and the tears streamed down his face. There was a dull aching in his chest. “Happy birthday,” he whispered under his breath.

*******

Wooyoung was sitting on a bench in an empty park, staring up at the rising moon. Perhaps he should’ve accepted his friends’ invitations, and gone out to have dinner with them. It was a rather sad way to celebrate his birthday like this. Maybe he could forget his troubles if he had done so, but he simply did not feel in the mood. He closed his eyes, wondering how long it might take him to get over Nichkhun. Perhaps never, came the answer in mind.

The sky was getting more and more overcast by the minute. Wooyoung should be heading back to his dorm now. He didn’t want to get caught in the rain. He stood up from the bench and stuck his hand into the pocket of his sweater to retrieve his bus card. An unfamiliar texture greeted his touch and he pulled out what looked like a mini envelope.

Do not open this before your birthday! It read, in Nichkhun’s handwriting.

Wooyoung stopped in his tracks, but thinking the better of it, he shoved the envelope back into his sweater and continued towards the bus stop. As he waited for the bus, he debated whether he ought to open the envelope or not. Would it be wise? Finally, when he got a seat on the bus back to his dormitories, he threw caution to the winds and slipped the envelope out of the sweater again. He wondered vaguely when Nichkhun had placed it there, before realising that it had been the sweater he had accidentally left at his house just two days ago. It had seemed so long since then.

No peeking, Wooyoung! It read on the other side, where he was to open the envelope. Wooyoung carefully tore the envelope open and slipped out the letter within.
To my dearest Wooyoung,

Happy birthday! You’re one year older now, but you’re still always younger than me and I’ll always treat you like a kid. =] No complaints, right?

You refused to tell me what you want for a present, and I’m really bad at picking gifts for people so I decided to write you a letter instead. You probably know this already, but I just wanted to let you know how important you are to me. I know, you’re going to say I’m being cheesy again, but that’s why you love me, right?

I love you, Wooyoung. You’re quite literally the best thing that’s ever happened to me, in my life. Every day, I still can’t figure out what I’ve done in life to deserve someone like you, who could love me so whole-heartedly as you do, despite knowing all the ugly facts of my life. Before I met you, I had lived life on a day to day basis, not really knowing who I was and just going along with the flow. I tried my best to keep myself happy, even though I never really did feel that way. I think I despised myself for what I do, but yet I didn’t have much of a choice either. I only really found out the meaning of happiness after you came into my life, and I’m so thankful to you for that.

I want to work hard for us, Wooyoung. I don’t know if you’d find this creepy (I hope you don’t), but lately I’ve been envisioning our future together. I want to earn and save enough money, so that we could buy a small cosy little apartment together. We’d argue over the decorations, and in the end you’d give in to me anyway because you know my aesthetic taste is better than yours. I want to earn enough money so I could take classes and learn a new skill, so that I can find a job that wouldn’t hurt either of us. Most of all, I want to earn enough money so that I could buy you a beautiful ring that you wouldn’t be ashamed to wear out. A ring that you could wear forever knowing that you are mine, and I would be yours, and only yours.

In our house, we could keep pets (no chickens, I’m sorry, I can’t stand the squawking), we could even adopt children if we felt the need to. It’ll be a place where we could come home after a day of work, and we could massage each other’s shoulders when we feel tired. It’ll be a place where we would fight and argue, and then we would kiss and make up. It’ll be a place where we would grow old together, and become weird old men who still constantly perved over each other, and our neighbours would gossip and ostracize us. But it wouldn’t matter because we would have each other anyway.

I guess until you tell me what you actually want for your birthday, that’s all the birthday present I can give you right now: what I envision our future to be like together. I love you from the bottom of my heart, Wooyoung, and I don’t think that’ll ever change.

Happy birthday, baby.

With all the love in the world,
Nichkhun

Wooyoung had not even realized that the tears were streaming freely down his face as he completed the letter. Thankfully, the bus was devoid of passengers at this time, and no one seemed to notice. The rain was growing torrential now outside of the bus window. He folded up the letter, replaced it in the envelope and pressed the bell.

*******

Nichkhun sipped some tea as he stared out of the window. He could barely see out with the heavy rain that had started so suddenly. He hoped Wooyoung had an umbrella. He wondered if he was out celebrating with his friends right now. The dull aching in his chest had never subsided.

There was an urgent rapping at his door. Nichkhun looked at the clock - there were no more clients due for the night. He placed the tea down on the table and hurriedly opened the door.

Looking as if he had just swam there, Wooyoung stood on the other side of the doorway, dripping a constant stream of rainwater on Nichkhun’s doormat. He looked like he had been crying.

“My god, Wooyoung, what happened?” ejaculated Nichkhun as he ushered Wooyoung into the house despite the puddles that he formed everywhere. He rushed into the washroom and grabbed spare clothes and a thick, fluffy towel, which he wrapped around Wooyoung hurriedly.

“Hyung -” Wooyoung began.

“Change out of your clothes first before you talk, you’re going to catch a cold at this rate,” ordered Nichkhun firmly. Sulkily, Wooyoung pulled off his wet clothes and handed them to Nichkhun before he toweled himself dry and put on the dry change of clothes.

Once Wooyoung was sufficiently dry, he finally opened the fist that he had been keeping clenched. “I found this in my pocket,” he said. Though he had been soaked to the skin, he had crumpled the envelope and the letter so tightly within his fist that it was barely wet at all despite the run in the rain. Nichkhun looked at the crumpled ball of paper that Wooyoung placed on the table and remembered its contents. He bristled a little and looked uncertainly at Wooyoung. “I wanted to make sure you understand the issues I have with what you wrote.”

Nichkhun looked away and braced himself. “Firstly,” Wooyoung began. “I do not agree that your aesthetic tastes are better than mine, and you should at least let me decorate the kitchen because I’d be the one cooking there most of the time.” Nichkhun glanced at Wooyoung in disbelief. “Secondly, I insist on keeping at least one chicken, just to try it out. I’ll make sure I train it not to squawk too loudly. Thirdly, I want a silver ring and not an old-fashioned gold one. I’ll buy the same one for you too.

“And finally, I’ll tell you what I want for my birthday,” Wooyoung drew closer to Nichkhun, holding his wrist and snaking an arm around the back of his neck to pull him gently downwards. Hesitantly, as if still not daring to believe it, Nichkhun lowered his head closer towards Wooyoung’s lips. “I want all of this future that you wrote in your letter. I want you. I want us. I want you to be mine and only mine. I especially want to become that weird old man that you talked about.”

“You just asked for five birthday presents at one go, Wooyoung,” Nichkhun broke into an bright smile, brushing his nose against Wooyoung’s, his hand casually wrapped around his waist.

“I’m sorry, you’ve taught me to be greedy,” quipped Wooyoung, his arms still circled around Nichkhun’s neck. He sighed. “Can’t promise that I’ll never get jealous again, but I can’t live without you. And I’m sorry for all the things I said last night. No matter how angry, jealous and upset I get, I have never and will never regret falling in love with you.”

“I believed you weren’t going to come back again.”

“I thought I wouldn’t either, but I realised I would’ve eventually. I’m in far too deep by now. You’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

“I don’t have any complaints about that.”

“Good, I would hate to have to hear you complaining for a lifetime,” Wooyoung smiled before he pressed his lips against Nichkhun’s.