to promise the world [3/4]
A M S T E R D A M , N E T H E R L A N D S
✈︎
The Eurostar makes two train changes to get to Amsterdam. As soon as they step out of the train from Glasgow Central, they take a ten-minute stride from London Euston to St. Pancreas to hop into the Thalys train enroute to Brussels.
It would have been a hassle if Kyungsoo traveled alone, especially taking into consideration the amount of people he had to bump into while finding their own way around the train stations. He internally hated the crowd, but with Jongin leading the way, he thinks it’s not half as bad.
Kyungsoo watches Jongin quickly fall asleep just as they settle inside a booth on opposite ends from each other. It’d been that way since they rode the last train; Jongin would either be reading a book or casually drifting into slumber, while Kyungsoo would silently watch him with his earphones attached to his ears and some indie folk music playing to the movement of the pilot’s steady breathing.
He discovers that he actually enjoys this-watching Jongin sleep. Every few minutes his eyes would flutter open just to see if they’ve finally reached their destination. Kyungsoo would shake his head with a brief smile, and he would always return it with an even softer one, his lazy eyes locked on his before resuming sleep and closing his eyes again.
In these brief moments, Kyungsoo indulges himself in the thought that maybe they were much more similar than he originally thought they were. Like onions with layers, Kyungsoo learned something new about Jongin day by day, like how he preferred sunny side up eggs over scrambled eggs for breakfast. Same as how Jongin had learned that Kyungsoo wore mismatched socks on a daily basis. Kyungsoo was a traveler who wanted to see the world, and Jongin flew planes, having seen most of it. Together they journeyed with tourists and locals through unexplored city gems. It was a reality they both shared.
But in these brief moments inside the train, they are left in their own state of realities: Kyungsoo mourning his dead biological parents, and Jongin grieving over a love lost.
Kyungsoo continues to watch Jongin sleep soundly, his head resting close to the window of the train and worries left behind in the world around him the same way Kyungsoo drowns reality out with the songs in his head.
He thinks it makes perfect sense, how in these moments of unperturbed silence, they did all things to escape from it.
Alone, together.
The train speakers resound with an announcement of their arrival at Amsterdam Centraal. Kyungsoo and Jongin wake just in time to leave the train. Somewhere along the ride, Jongin had mentioned that his cousin, Junmyeon, was a local in the city and suggested that they rent a townhouse unit with airbnb, hooking them up with a place his friend owned. They make their way out of the train station and walk towards the designated address on Jongin’s message, the exhaustion from an eleven-hour train ride catching up to them the minute they make it inside the unit.
What shakes them awake however, is the single shared bed in the center of the bedroom, something Junmyeon nor his friend ever mentioned over the phone. They stand frozen in silence, not really knowing what to think. The thought had never crossed their minds having stayed in separate rooms during their stay at Glasgow.
“Well,” Jongin trails off, placing his hand at the back of his neck, “There isn’t much we can do now, You can take the bed if it makes you uncomfortable, Kyungsoo. I can just sleep on the couch outside.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine, Jongin, I’ll take the couch.”
“No, really.”
”Really,” Kyungsoo insists. “I can take it.”
Jongin looks at him for a moment, accepting defeat with a small smile on his face.
“Thanks.”
Minutes pass. Despite their agreed arrangement, they fall asleep on the shared bed while unpacking. Kyungsoo stays half-awake and is aware of the way Jongin shifts a little too close to fill the space between them, a habit of his that he discovers when he’s in deep sleep.
Then slowly, slowly, Jongin starts to intertwine his fingers with his, the warmth of his hand enclosing his own sweaty palm.
Another habit, Kyungsoo thinks, one that creates a spark of electricity through Kyungsoo’s fingertips and through his bloodstream, somehow creeping its way to the nerves in his heart.
Junmyeon had a daytime canal tour planned for them today, so after sharing a loaf of bread for breakfast in the morning they hurriedly leave the townhouse to set out and meet him. Kyungsoo felt like he was walking inside a real life painting. The city is covered in crisp autumn leaves falling from trees-proof of just how quickly the seasons change. They walk alongside the bike lanes where they witness people cycling and stroll down the narrow streets in search for the docks.
The temperature is fairly cold, and Kyungsoo only managed to wear one layer of clothing with a navy trench coat on top. He thinks he underestimated the weather too much.
When he tries to come up with possible ways of keeping himself warm, he only finds himself secretly longing for Jongin’s gloved hand, with last night’s habits playing in his head. His own bare hands close into a fist, and a sudden warmth spreads on his cheeks like the tingle in the back of his neck and the strange somersaults in his stomach.
Jongin was oblivious to Kyungsoo’s heart speeding up, but he needs it to stop. He silently wonders if Jongin was aware of it, if he knew of his habits and the unfamiliar feelings it did to him.
He doesn’t realize that his question will soon be answered when Jongin suddenly speaks next to him.
“Were you able to sleep well last night?” Jongin asks. “I forgot to tell you that I moved a lot when I sleep.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, focusing on the road straight ahead.
“I did.” He lies, “I move a lot too.”
“I’m a heavy sleeper, so I won’t be able to notice. I also forgot to warn you about some...habits I have. I tend to hold things with my hands when I’m asleep. Soojung used to tell me that I would sleep like an otter--”
Jongin’s words fall short, realizing how it’s the first time he’d ever said her name again, and how it was Kyungsoo’s first time to hear it.
“Soojung?” Kyungsoo repeats, then asks, “Was that her name?”
The girl in your history?
He sees Jongin’s face slightly change when their eyes meet, a short moment of despair flashing in his.
“Yeah.”
Jongin looks away, and that’s when the conversation ends. Kyungsoo doesn’t try to push any further.
They spot one of the boats docked to the side along the canals loading passengers. Finding Junmyeon was easy at this point-a Korean dressed in a black coat with a scarf around his neck walks the opposite way and waves excitedly as he heads toward their direction.
He wasn’t alone. Another man approaches in the same exact coat with a mustard turtleneck underneath, catching up to Junmyeon and taking his hand in his while they fall into step together and share gleeful glances.
Junmyeon pulls the pilot into a brotherly hug with a delighted sigh. “It’s so good to see you here, Jongin.”
“You too.” Jongin returns a smile, introducing Kyungsoo with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is Kyungsoo. I’m trying to show him around the city.”
Junmyeon’s features are softer, his complexion much fairer in contrast to Jongin’s tan skin. The shock on his face is quick to detect, eyes wide and looking into his own with a slow letter ‘o’ forming in his mouth.
He shakes Kyungsoo’s hand and nods with a grin something akin to awe, implying something he didn’t understand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon repeats. “Welcome to Amsterdam.”
Within fifteen minutes, they are seated in the glass-enclosed boat, Junmyeon and Jongdae-Junmyeon’s partner-side by side, while Jongin and Kyungsoo sit in front of them. Over the next hour, they traverse through all of Amsterdam’s waterways including Prinsengracht, Keizersgracht, Herengracht and Jordaan, as well as pass many of the city’s primary monuments and historic buildings with canal houses in between.
The sun shines above them in the breezy afternoon, with all of the city enjoying its beaming presence. Kyungsoo realizes that his eyes had seen Jongin’s smiling face too much that he thinks about how he looks almost similar to the sun, its rays peeking once again through the glass window and painting his skin with a touch of gold.
Jongdae mentions that the boat stops at a dock in Museumplein where the museums are located. Once they land, they begin their visit to the Rijkmuseum. The building’s architecture amazes Kyungsoo as its structure is separated into two squares, a tunnel as its central axis. They are welcomed inside the museum with minimalist interior and clean dark gray walls. From the display of paintings and artifacts, they discover a reading room with an extensive library of art history, wandering through the first floor and admiring people reading at the desks.
“I could practically live here,” Jongin quietly whispers to Kyungsoo, making him laugh and to which he believes.
Stepping inside the Van Gogh Museum is like stepping into a different kind of universe. The vibrant use of watercolor and the impulsive brush strokes on canvases are evident in his abstract works. People would say his talent was self-destructive, that his other-worldly paintings expressed most of his real and deep reflections.
He barely notices that Junmyeon and Jongdae have already left his side and separated from him, his emotions overrunning his thoughts as he’s easily gripped by the paintings and self-portraits. He stops before one particular painting in which presents a vase of sunflowers, similar to the real ones he’d seen outside the museum, and it instantly becomes his favorite.
Soon Kyungsoo finds himself entering a dark narrow hallway leading to a walk through exhibit of Van Gogh’s famous paintings.
Then he sees Jongin, standing in the middle of the room with Van Gogh’s Starry Night coming to life as it projects the walls and illuminates his body with light. He catches him laughing in amazement, his eyes filled with childlike wonder and enthusiasm crinkling like half moons.
There is something so lovely in things that are bright and beautiful. It is then that Kyungsoo realizes how Jongin’s smile is beginning to remind him of these things-of art and sunflowers.
And just like a painting, he can only stare at the masterpiece in front of him, his heart beating frantically in his chest too scared to touch him.
They meet the other pair outside the museum where they watch the couple take selfies close to the iamsterdam letters and wait for them to finish, their stomachs already growling from hunger. Twenty minutes later, they eat lunch at a quaint restaurant and afterwards spend their afternoon peeking at tulips in the Bloemenmarkt.
The flower market is located in the Single Canal, floating on top of houseboats and barges, with stalls that show different plants and a variety of colors. One of the vendors try to offer Kyungsoo tulip bulbs but he declines politely, knowing that he wouldn’t know how to bring it safely back home.
He continues to immerse himself in the beauty of the flowers surrounding him when the sound of a camera shutter quickly reaches his ears.
When he looks up, Jongin is smiling at him a few feet away with his camera in his hands.
“Jongin!”
“What?” Jongin asks teasingly, “I haven’t taken any photos since we were in Glasgow.
Kyungsoo wants to protest, but the glee on the pilot’s face stops him from doing so. Instead, he resigns to a defeated pout.
“I…” he drawls.
“Come on,” Jongin urges, “Let me take photos of you. Think of it as trading memories, me taking your photos in exchange for the ones that you took.”
The thought of Kyungsoo caught keeping photos of Jongin shuts him up quickly, giving the other the opportunity to snap another photo of his baffled expression. If the pilot were to keep memories of him, Kyungsoo hopes he doesn’t keep that one.
The minutes fly by and they call it a night after dinner at the Damrak, the couple waving them goodbye and promising to meet them again tomorrow. By the time Kyungsoo and Jongin get home, they become too tired to think of anything else and get enough rest to prepare themselves for the next day that lies ahead of them.
Only Kyungsoo makes sure to sleep on the couch this time.
He wasn’t expecting for the morning to come along with a sore on his back.
Jongin cooks eggs on the kitchen of their townhouse unit while Kyungsoo sits in front of the counter. He tries to keep a straight face while chewing on a fruit and waiting for the ache on his back to wear out, but he wonders how Jongin can see right through him.
He sets the plate down in front of him while he stands opposite of him, using a fork to poke the scrambled egg and taking a biteful into his mouth. “You can still take the bed if you wanted to,” Jongin simply says.
He uses his other hand to grab his own fork and slice a piece of egg from the same plate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to seem like I was complaining or anything like that.”
“If your back hurts, then it hurts,” Jongin says, crossing his arms over the table and leaning forward. “You shouldn’t be sorry for something like that. If you want, maybe we can try sharing the bed again. It seems like neither of us has a problem with it anyway.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t tell Jongin, but he does have a problem with it. A big one. It’s the exact reason why he didn’t mention anything, knowing that it could possibly lead to this proposition.
“I’m not a baby,” Kyungsoo defends, slightly annoyed at how Jongin seems to treat him like a child and makes him look out to be someone who is incapable of doing anything.
“And I’m not treating you like one,” Jongin answers back, “It’s called compromise.”
He shoves a big piece of egg into his mouth. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.”
Kyungsoo continues to chew on his egg-mouth full and cheeks blown-when he catches Jongin staring at him, unabashed and something like playful endearment in his eyes.
“Although has anyone told you that you looked like one?”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to do with him.
Junmyeon’s itinerary for the day includes exploring the markets at Amsterdam. They spend the morning wandering around the Jourdaan, one of the city’s most famous neighbourhoods. The amount of tourists surrounding the area is expected as they walk along the narrow paths and flower-lined canals. It’s almost impossible to find their way in the maze-like streets, that sometimes Jongin would have to take Kyungsoo’s hand and pull him close. The heavy flow of foot traffic makes it easier for Kyungsoo to hide the blush that suddenly warms his cheeks and the tips of his fingers. They continue to pass the quaint shops and peek at the little art galleries before they spot a small restaurant, indulging themselves with Bitterballen paired with beer.
In the afternoon, they cross the Herengracht and Kiezersgracht canals, arriving at De Negen Straatjes. They take the whole afternoon and stroll down the cobbled streets, admiring the vintage boutiques and specialty shops with less people around compared to others.
Jongin and Jongdae walk ahead of Kyungsoo, laughing together and taking photos of the thrift shops while Junmyeon watches next to him.
“Jongin looks really happy now,” Junmyeon speaks quietly. “Although maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him in a while. He should visit more often.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Kyungsoo asks.
“A year ago,” he answers. “He was here around the same time, I think.”
“Wasn’t he happy then?”
Junmyeon takes a moment to glance at him, surprised by his question.
“Well, sure,” he ponders. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Kyungsoo. He must have been happy because I was there with him, but I remember a time when I’ve seen him much happier, like when Soojung was still by his side.”
Kyungsoo checks to see Jongin entering a vintage shop with Jongdae trailing behind him, before finding the courage to ask Junmyeon another question, curiosity growing more and more.
“Would you happen to know what happened to them?”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Junmyeon tells him. “But as far as I know, no one does. He’s never told anyone.”
Kyungsoo feels a brief pang of guilt for trying to invade Jongin’s privacy like that.
“But it’s good now,” Junmyeon says, meeting his eyes, “that he has you.”
Kyungsoo sees where this conversation is going, but whatever he and Jongin were doing wasn’t anything other than travelling the world.
“Oh, no. It’s not what you think. I’m just a friend from Seoul.” Kyungsoo denies.
Junmyeon looks at him for a moment.
“If you say so,” Junmyeon replies, “I guess the real question is… If you want to stay that way?”
Just when Kyungsoo is about to answer, a kid in a Flash costume suddenly dashes right in front of them, running past them and into the street with a plastic pumpkin basket in his hand.
“What the-”
Since this morning, Kyungsoo had seen other kids and people dressed in costumes-Once as they were leaving the unit and another time at Jordaan. He barely remembers how he seems to have seen too many pumpkins and spider webs as decorations.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot. If you and Jongin are interested, there’s a Halloween Parade assembling in Vondelpark later at eight. There’s music and costumes and everything. You guys can join us.”
“We’ll be there.”
Jongin appears next to Kyungsoo tugging his arm and pulling him away, leaving Jongdae with Junmyeon before he can protest. He leads him inside the same vintage shop he had entered just moments ago, and before he knows it they’re passing a section of old clothes only to stop at a tiny dresser full of things that look like makeup.
“Jongin, what are we doing here?” Kyungsoo asks.
“It’s too late to buy costumes,” Jongin says, “But I saw this and thought of another idea.”
He lightly dabs his finger on a palette, swirling it around as orange pigment sticks to his skin.
“I don’t think I’ll like this idea of yours,” Kyungsoo says.
Jongin raises his finger in the air and in front of him, smiling mischievously.
“Well, right now you won’t have a choice,” Jongin responds before pressing his tinged finger down to his cheek.
“Whoa, what are you doing?!” Kyungsoo asks, quickly stepping back from him and raising his arms.
Jongin grins at the orange dot on the side of his face. “I’m painting your face for the parade.”
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo groans, “You are not putting makeup on me.”
“You will travel with me all the way to Paris but will say no to a little color on your face? Do you really think I’m buying that?”
Of course not, Kyungsoo thinks, then watches as the pilot reaches over one more time to touch his face.
Jongin starts by painting his cheeks with orange, moving his fingertip in a circular motion to both sides of his face. Once it’s done, he pulls out a stool from under the dresser for him to sit on, then proceeds to choose another color. Jongin looks excitedly over the face paint, then pats his finger on a darker color and applies it to his nose.
Kyungsoo stays silent watching him all this time. He watches how Jongin’s face contorts from full concentration to childish excitement, how his eyes give Kyungsoo all the attention while his fingers delicately touch his face, leaving more than just autumn colors on his skin.
He shades his eyebrows and lips with brown, then uses a black pencil eyeliner to draw an outline on his eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips, finishing off with lines as stitches.
Jongin spins the stool around for Kyungsoo to stare at his reflection.
“Congratulations,” Jongin tells him, “I’ve just turned you into a scarecrow.”
Kyungsoo is quite amazed by the end result. He didn’t think Jongin would be too serious about celebrating Halloween, but with how his makeup had turned out, he thinks maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all. Kyungsoo turns to Jongin and gives him an approving smile.
“Crazy, right?” Jongin asks, hands clasped together in joy and mirroring the same excitement in Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Now it’s my turn.”
They switch positions-Jongin seated in front of the dresser and Kyungsoo standing in front of him. He looks up at him expectantly while Kyungsoo returns a confused look.
“You want me to paint on you?” Kyungsoo asks.
Jongin closes his eyes, giving him a smile and a nod. “I trust you, Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know why his words make his heart speed up, but it makes him genuinely happy.
He picks up the eyeliner, not really knowing what to do with it. He takes one step forward, leaning down until he reaches Jongin’s face level and presses it lightly to his face.
Kyungsoo is definitely not an expert on art, but he traces lines from the middle part of Jongin’s forehead to the bridge of his nose, drawing more lines over his lips then connecting them to the outlines he’d created on his face.
He draws on Jongin’s face for a good five minutes, then turns the stool to face the mirror and asks Jongin to open his eyes.
Jongin obeys, looking at his reflection with something between shock and astonishment quickly written on his face.
Half of Jongin’s face is left blank, while the other half is composed of thick lines that trace from his nose to his lips, going up from the side of his jaw and all the way to his forehead, forming small geometric shapes and tiny lines decorating the bottom of his eye. The lack of color makes the drawing standout, creating something almost similar to an abstract painting.
“Kyungsoo.”
“I know, I could have done better,” Kyungsoo shrugs, still leaning down with his face next to Jongin’s, shooting him a small casual smile through the mirror. “I really didn’t know what came over me.”
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, his tone demanding him to listen. “It’s perfect.”
He turns his head to the side just as Jongin does, eyes meeting and faces only inches away from each other.
Kyungsoo notices everything about Jongin, like the small strand of eyelash that had stuck below his eye, and the way his thick lips are slightly chapped. He stares into his eyes and faces an inner battle between listening to what his brain needs him to do and doing what his heart wants him to do.
But Jongin moves first-pulling him close and welcoming him in his arms which circle around his neck. Kyungsoo stands frozen, legs bent and body tilted forward at a weird angle with both hands stuck to his sides.
Jongin is warm and so so close, unexpected like the weather and Kyungsoo’s heart that races faster and faster, fearing that it would explode any moment from now.
The fleeting moment comes and leaves when Jongin pulls away to look back into his face with a wide smile, a smile so bright that he can paint the whole town yellow.
Dusk arrives as soon as they find themselves passing through the Red Light District-Junmyeon and Jongdae having already disappeared from their sights to prepare for the parade-while a range of tourists walk alongside them. They pass a repetition of restaurants, shops, and coffee shops with neon signages flashing at them as they wander through the night street. Walking through the area, Kyungsoo notices couples holding hands and even families walking down the canals. Kyungsoo had already seen most of what Amsterdam has to offer, and he didn’t want to pass up on this chance of seeing the district at least once. The atmosphere is intriguing. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s an undeniable buzz lingering in the air that would best be described as something unspoken, one full of suspense and in the strangest way, a little bit of erotic.
Kyungsoo grows even more curious when he peers through the floor to ceiling doors, red lights framing the glass windows. There are women of all colors and sizes inside the windows, piquing their interests and greeting them as they pass.
“Do you want to visit a coffee shop?” Jongin asks next to him.
“Coffee?” Kyungsoo asks, confused. “I didn’t know they sold coffee in this place.”
Jongin tries to contain his laughter and keeps an admirable smile on his face. “Sure, that is if we’re talking about the same coffee.”
He still doesn’t understand, until they step inside a dimly lit establishment and sit in front of a table with a cylindrical glass pipe between them. He realizes that in Amsterdam, coffee didn’t exactly mean beans that grew from farms. Jongin calls out a waiter and exchanges a few words with him. Kyungsoo can’t hear him well from the loud reggae music blasting through the speakers, but he catches hearing something along the lines of “Joints” and something “Pre-rolled”.
The waiter leaves and comes back with a small plate of two blunts, hollowed and filled with marijuana.
Kyungsoo watches Jongin take one and files it between his fingers. He asks the waiter to light the blunt, waiting for its end to finally flare up before letting out a long exhale just as the waiter begins to walk away. Thick smoke whizzes through the air and Kyungsoo already smells the earthy herb. He’s not sure if he wants to try it.
Jongin makes a face at him, head facing sideways as he blows smoke through his mouth. “Wow. This stuff is strong.”
Kyungsoo continues to watch in amazement and curiosity, noticing how the weed slowly takes effect on Jongin’s body. His eyes have turned lazy, staring at him with a sleazy smile on his face.
It’s amusing, but Kyungsoo feels guilty for letting him indulge on something like this alone. Jongin brought him here for a reason, and although he knew Jongin wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do, maybe Jongin wants him to live in these moments, to experience these acts of impulse and bad decisions.
Kyungsoo takes the other blunt from the plate, trying to arrange it between his fingers just like how he remembers Jongin doing it. He looks at Jongin who is already calling the waiter and borrowing a lighter again. When the waiter walks away, he urges Kyungsoo to move closer to light the blunt.
Kyungsoo leans in, his shaky fingers raised close to his mouth with his joint stuck in between. Jongin holds his hand to keep it still, lighting the end of the stick and silently watching the fire flicker momentarily.
Kyungsoo doesn’t know if what he’s doing is correct but he inhales all too fast, taking too much of the smoke into his lungs with an unpreparedness that causes him to choke on his breath, coughing instantly as puffs of smoke escape his mouth. Jongin rubs his back soothingly as Kyungsoo settles down with a burning sensation left on his throat and a bitter taste on his tongue.
Moments later, Kyungsoo feels the hit-the music grows loud and clear in his ears along with other people’s bickering, while the pungent smell of weed turns stronger. He’s overwhelmed by the intensity of his senses heightened, with Jongin’s touches making him feel more light-headed than usual.
Kyungsoo suddenly laughs. He laughs and laughs over nothing, while Jongin joins him.
“This is insane,” Kyungsoo tells him.
“And you, maybe even more so. I can’t believe you did that. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you so relaxed.”
“I haven’t had a good laugh in a while, maybe since my entire life,” Kyungsoo says truthfully. “This feels really, really good.”
“The weed helps,” Jongin comments. “Sometimes all we need is a little escape from life.”
Jongin begins to look at him differently. He has an elbow on top of the table with his free hand cupping his doodled face, blowing smoke from the blunt to the side while his eyes are beguiling, almost adoringly staring into his own.
“Why are looking at me like that?” Kyungsoo asks.
He balances the joint between two fingers and shakes his head, smiling.
“Nothing,” he says, “It’s just.. I wonder where you came from.”
He looks confusedly at him.
“You’re saying weird things right now,” Kyungsoo jokes, “I’ll take it as the plant talking.”
Jongin laughs softly, “I know what I’m saying. I think you know what I mean.”
“But I don’t. Not really,” Kyungsoo replies. “Would you mind elaborating it for me?”
“What I mean is,” Jongin says, “Sometimes, I wonder how the universe conspired in leading you to me. I’m still trying to believe how someone like you had come into my life like this.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes grow wide hearing what he said.
“Like what, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks, more serious this time.
“I don’t know,” he answers with an uncertainty in his voice, but continues on to say, “Just like this. Like this place could be beautiful again.”
Kyungsoo’s heart races.
He remembers Jongin on the way to Amsterdam, sleeping on the train and reading a book just so he could drift apart from this world. Being inside the coffee shop almost feels the same, except when Kyungsoo was with Jongin, he couldn’t tell the difference between the reality and escaping to a world of his own.
The parade had already begun once they arrive at Vondelpark, witnessing a showcase of people in a variety of halloween costumes with huge floats and inflatable puppets roaming around the area. They spot Junmyeon and Jongdae walking along the parade, laughing hysterically at their twinning Hershey’s chocolate costumes as they join them while the other pair passes them red paper cups filled with booze.
Time quickly permeates, and moments of walking, drinking, and dancing all but pass into a state of drunken bliss.
It’s eleven in the evening when locals start to pack up and leave the park, walking away giddily and intoxicated. Junmyeon is throwing Jongdae’s arm over his shoulder and apologizing profusely when he drunkenly yells at the top of his lungs for no reason. He collects Jongdae’s body and carries him in his arms before saying goodbye.
Kyungsoo runs as Jongin chases him down an empty street, slowing his steps when he makes it to the middle of the road and trying hard not to fall.
The buzz from their lingering highs are twice as strong as the time they drank in Scotland. Kyungsoo can still hear the music in his ears, spinning around in a sloppy twirl as he dances underneath the moonlight with eyes closed. He tries to hum a melody in the air, and when he opens his eyes he finds Jongin watching him with a lazy grin on his tired face.
The alcohol makes Kyungsoo courageous, lifting a finger up and gesturing for Jongin to dance along with him. He chuckles heartily and steps forward, bracing his arms around his waist while Kyungsoo drapes his own over his shoulders.
Together they sway in the silence, staring at each other as if nothing else mattered in this moment, trapped in their own little escape.
It’s when their bodies unknowingly move closer does Kyungsoo realize that he’s bordering uncharted territory. Jongin’s eyes are dark, filled with something indescribable as he looks down at him.
“You look absolutely ridiculous right now,” he teases playfully. If half of Jongin’s drawn face had already melted from the stickiness of the paint, Kyungsoo can only imagine the damage on his own face.
“Well, I can’t disagree with you on that,” Kyungsoo answers with a soft laugh. “I’m a complete mess.”
A sheen of sweat drips from his forehead all the way down to his jaw with Jongin lightly brushing it away. His hand stays where it is, tracing the line in his jaw to slowly cup his face.
“Yeah,” Jongin says, almost in a whisper, “Yeah, me too.”
Kyungsoo is even more of a mess now, his heart pounding in his chest from the proximity of their faces and the eyes that bore into his own. They’re alone on the dark street and he’s terrified.
Jongin looks down, down, down on his lips and he can’t breathe. He tries to hide his panic but he’s clutching onto his shirt too tightly, wishing he can run away.
And just as they lean forward, headlights suddenly flash over their faces.
Kyungsoo releases the air he didn’t realize he’d been keeping while Jongin backs away. His eyes don’t give anything away, but he quietly takes his hand, leading him to the taxi and following him inside.
It’s silent inside. Kyungsoo’s mind is hazy and clouded with wrongful judgement, but because of what had happened just moments ago, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Jongin wanted something to happen.
It’s only then does Kyungsoo realize that things have changed since meeting Jongin, since learning his history and since he got high, and maybe he wanted the same thing just as much.
Then Kyungsoo is suddenly brave again, closing the gap between them and leaning over Jongin’s painted face.
Kyungsoo has never felt desire for anything or anyone, until his lips finally crash into his.
(4/4)
✈︎
The Eurostar makes two train changes to get to Amsterdam. As soon as they step out of the train from Glasgow Central, they take a ten-minute stride from London Euston to St. Pancreas to hop into the Thalys train enroute to Brussels.
It would have been a hassle if Kyungsoo traveled alone, especially taking into consideration the amount of people he had to bump into while finding their own way around the train stations. He internally hated the crowd, but with Jongin leading the way, he thinks it’s not half as bad.
Kyungsoo watches Jongin quickly fall asleep just as they settle inside a booth on opposite ends from each other. It’d been that way since they rode the last train; Jongin would either be reading a book or casually drifting into slumber, while Kyungsoo would silently watch him with his earphones attached to his ears and some indie folk music playing to the movement of the pilot’s steady breathing.
He discovers that he actually enjoys this-watching Jongin sleep. Every few minutes his eyes would flutter open just to see if they’ve finally reached their destination. Kyungsoo would shake his head with a brief smile, and he would always return it with an even softer one, his lazy eyes locked on his before resuming sleep and closing his eyes again.
In these brief moments, Kyungsoo indulges himself in the thought that maybe they were much more similar than he originally thought they were. Like onions with layers, Kyungsoo learned something new about Jongin day by day, like how he preferred sunny side up eggs over scrambled eggs for breakfast. Same as how Jongin had learned that Kyungsoo wore mismatched socks on a daily basis. Kyungsoo was a traveler who wanted to see the world, and Jongin flew planes, having seen most of it. Together they journeyed with tourists and locals through unexplored city gems. It was a reality they both shared.
But in these brief moments inside the train, they are left in their own state of realities: Kyungsoo mourning his dead biological parents, and Jongin grieving over a love lost.
Kyungsoo continues to watch Jongin sleep soundly, his head resting close to the window of the train and worries left behind in the world around him the same way Kyungsoo drowns reality out with the songs in his head.
He thinks it makes perfect sense, how in these moments of unperturbed silence, they did all things to escape from it.
Alone, together.
The train speakers resound with an announcement of their arrival at Amsterdam Centraal. Kyungsoo and Jongin wake just in time to leave the train. Somewhere along the ride, Jongin had mentioned that his cousin, Junmyeon, was a local in the city and suggested that they rent a townhouse unit with airbnb, hooking them up with a place his friend owned. They make their way out of the train station and walk towards the designated address on Jongin’s message, the exhaustion from an eleven-hour train ride catching up to them the minute they make it inside the unit.
What shakes them awake however, is the single shared bed in the center of the bedroom, something Junmyeon nor his friend ever mentioned over the phone. They stand frozen in silence, not really knowing what to think. The thought had never crossed their minds having stayed in separate rooms during their stay at Glasgow.
“Well,” Jongin trails off, placing his hand at the back of his neck, “There isn’t much we can do now, You can take the bed if it makes you uncomfortable, Kyungsoo. I can just sleep on the couch outside.”
“Oh, no. It’s fine, Jongin, I’ll take the couch.”
“No, really.”
”Really,” Kyungsoo insists. “I can take it.”
Jongin looks at him for a moment, accepting defeat with a small smile on his face.
“Thanks.”
Minutes pass. Despite their agreed arrangement, they fall asleep on the shared bed while unpacking. Kyungsoo stays half-awake and is aware of the way Jongin shifts a little too close to fill the space between them, a habit of his that he discovers when he’s in deep sleep.
Then slowly, slowly, Jongin starts to intertwine his fingers with his, the warmth of his hand enclosing his own sweaty palm.
Another habit, Kyungsoo thinks, one that creates a spark of electricity through Kyungsoo’s fingertips and through his bloodstream, somehow creeping its way to the nerves in his heart.
Junmyeon had a daytime canal tour planned for them today, so after sharing a loaf of bread for breakfast in the morning they hurriedly leave the townhouse to set out and meet him. Kyungsoo felt like he was walking inside a real life painting. The city is covered in crisp autumn leaves falling from trees-proof of just how quickly the seasons change. They walk alongside the bike lanes where they witness people cycling and stroll down the narrow streets in search for the docks.
The temperature is fairly cold, and Kyungsoo only managed to wear one layer of clothing with a navy trench coat on top. He thinks he underestimated the weather too much.
When he tries to come up with possible ways of keeping himself warm, he only finds himself secretly longing for Jongin’s gloved hand, with last night’s habits playing in his head. His own bare hands close into a fist, and a sudden warmth spreads on his cheeks like the tingle in the back of his neck and the strange somersaults in his stomach.
Jongin was oblivious to Kyungsoo’s heart speeding up, but he needs it to stop. He silently wonders if Jongin was aware of it, if he knew of his habits and the unfamiliar feelings it did to him.
He doesn’t realize that his question will soon be answered when Jongin suddenly speaks next to him.
“Were you able to sleep well last night?” Jongin asks. “I forgot to tell you that I moved a lot when I sleep.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t look him in the eye when he answers, focusing on the road straight ahead.
“I did.” He lies, “I move a lot too.”
“I’m a heavy sleeper, so I won’t be able to notice. I also forgot to warn you about some...habits I have. I tend to hold things with my hands when I’m asleep. Soojung used to tell me that I would sleep like an otter--”
Jongin’s words fall short, realizing how it’s the first time he’d ever said her name again, and how it was Kyungsoo’s first time to hear it.
“Soojung?” Kyungsoo repeats, then asks, “Was that her name?”
The girl in your history?
He sees Jongin’s face slightly change when their eyes meet, a short moment of despair flashing in his.
“Yeah.”
Jongin looks away, and that’s when the conversation ends. Kyungsoo doesn’t try to push any further.
They spot one of the boats docked to the side along the canals loading passengers. Finding Junmyeon was easy at this point-a Korean dressed in a black coat with a scarf around his neck walks the opposite way and waves excitedly as he heads toward their direction.
He wasn’t alone. Another man approaches in the same exact coat with a mustard turtleneck underneath, catching up to Junmyeon and taking his hand in his while they fall into step together and share gleeful glances.
Junmyeon pulls the pilot into a brotherly hug with a delighted sigh. “It’s so good to see you here, Jongin.”
“You too.” Jongin returns a smile, introducing Kyungsoo with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “This is Kyungsoo. I’m trying to show him around the city.”
Junmyeon’s features are softer, his complexion much fairer in contrast to Jongin’s tan skin. The shock on his face is quick to detect, eyes wide and looking into his own with a slow letter ‘o’ forming in his mouth.
He shakes Kyungsoo’s hand and nods with a grin something akin to awe, implying something he didn’t understand.
“It’s nice to meet you, Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon repeats. “Welcome to Amsterdam.”
Within fifteen minutes, they are seated in the glass-enclosed boat, Junmyeon and Jongdae-Junmyeon’s partner-side by side, while Jongin and Kyungsoo sit in front of them. Over the next hour, they traverse through all of Amsterdam’s waterways including Prinsengracht, Keizersgracht, Herengracht and Jordaan, as well as pass many of the city’s primary monuments and historic buildings with canal houses in between.
The sun shines above them in the breezy afternoon, with all of the city enjoying its beaming presence. Kyungsoo realizes that his eyes had seen Jongin’s smiling face too much that he thinks about how he looks almost similar to the sun, its rays peeking once again through the glass window and painting his skin with a touch of gold.
Jongdae mentions that the boat stops at a dock in Museumplein where the museums are located. Once they land, they begin their visit to the Rijkmuseum. The building’s architecture amazes Kyungsoo as its structure is separated into two squares, a tunnel as its central axis. They are welcomed inside the museum with minimalist interior and clean dark gray walls. From the display of paintings and artifacts, they discover a reading room with an extensive library of art history, wandering through the first floor and admiring people reading at the desks.
“I could practically live here,” Jongin quietly whispers to Kyungsoo, making him laugh and to which he believes.
Stepping inside the Van Gogh Museum is like stepping into a different kind of universe. The vibrant use of watercolor and the impulsive brush strokes on canvases are evident in his abstract works. People would say his talent was self-destructive, that his other-worldly paintings expressed most of his real and deep reflections.
He barely notices that Junmyeon and Jongdae have already left his side and separated from him, his emotions overrunning his thoughts as he’s easily gripped by the paintings and self-portraits. He stops before one particular painting in which presents a vase of sunflowers, similar to the real ones he’d seen outside the museum, and it instantly becomes his favorite.
Soon Kyungsoo finds himself entering a dark narrow hallway leading to a walk through exhibit of Van Gogh’s famous paintings.
Then he sees Jongin, standing in the middle of the room with Van Gogh’s Starry Night coming to life as it projects the walls and illuminates his body with light. He catches him laughing in amazement, his eyes filled with childlike wonder and enthusiasm crinkling like half moons.
There is something so lovely in things that are bright and beautiful. It is then that Kyungsoo realizes how Jongin’s smile is beginning to remind him of these things-of art and sunflowers.
And just like a painting, he can only stare at the masterpiece in front of him, his heart beating frantically in his chest too scared to touch him.
They meet the other pair outside the museum where they watch the couple take selfies close to the iamsterdam letters and wait for them to finish, their stomachs already growling from hunger. Twenty minutes later, they eat lunch at a quaint restaurant and afterwards spend their afternoon peeking at tulips in the Bloemenmarkt.
The flower market is located in the Single Canal, floating on top of houseboats and barges, with stalls that show different plants and a variety of colors. One of the vendors try to offer Kyungsoo tulip bulbs but he declines politely, knowing that he wouldn’t know how to bring it safely back home.
He continues to immerse himself in the beauty of the flowers surrounding him when the sound of a camera shutter quickly reaches his ears.
When he looks up, Jongin is smiling at him a few feet away with his camera in his hands.
“Jongin!”
“What?” Jongin asks teasingly, “I haven’t taken any photos since we were in Glasgow.
Kyungsoo wants to protest, but the glee on the pilot’s face stops him from doing so. Instead, he resigns to a defeated pout.
“I…” he drawls.
“Come on,” Jongin urges, “Let me take photos of you. Think of it as trading memories, me taking your photos in exchange for the ones that you took.”
The thought of Kyungsoo caught keeping photos of Jongin shuts him up quickly, giving the other the opportunity to snap another photo of his baffled expression. If the pilot were to keep memories of him, Kyungsoo hopes he doesn’t keep that one.
The minutes fly by and they call it a night after dinner at the Damrak, the couple waving them goodbye and promising to meet them again tomorrow. By the time Kyungsoo and Jongin get home, they become too tired to think of anything else and get enough rest to prepare themselves for the next day that lies ahead of them.
Only Kyungsoo makes sure to sleep on the couch this time.
He wasn’t expecting for the morning to come along with a sore on his back.
Jongin cooks eggs on the kitchen of their townhouse unit while Kyungsoo sits in front of the counter. He tries to keep a straight face while chewing on a fruit and waiting for the ache on his back to wear out, but he wonders how Jongin can see right through him.
He sets the plate down in front of him while he stands opposite of him, using a fork to poke the scrambled egg and taking a biteful into his mouth. “You can still take the bed if you wanted to,” Jongin simply says.
He uses his other hand to grab his own fork and slice a piece of egg from the same plate. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to seem like I was complaining or anything like that.”
“If your back hurts, then it hurts,” Jongin says, crossing his arms over the table and leaning forward. “You shouldn’t be sorry for something like that. If you want, maybe we can try sharing the bed again. It seems like neither of us has a problem with it anyway.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t tell Jongin, but he does have a problem with it. A big one. It’s the exact reason why he didn’t mention anything, knowing that it could possibly lead to this proposition.
“I’m not a baby,” Kyungsoo defends, slightly annoyed at how Jongin seems to treat him like a child and makes him look out to be someone who is incapable of doing anything.
“And I’m not treating you like one,” Jongin answers back, “It’s called compromise.”
He shoves a big piece of egg into his mouth. “I can handle it.”
“Okay.”
Kyungsoo continues to chew on his egg-mouth full and cheeks blown-when he catches Jongin staring at him, unabashed and something like playful endearment in his eyes.
“Although has anyone told you that you looked like one?”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know what to do with him.
Junmyeon’s itinerary for the day includes exploring the markets at Amsterdam. They spend the morning wandering around the Jourdaan, one of the city’s most famous neighbourhoods. The amount of tourists surrounding the area is expected as they walk along the narrow paths and flower-lined canals. It’s almost impossible to find their way in the maze-like streets, that sometimes Jongin would have to take Kyungsoo’s hand and pull him close. The heavy flow of foot traffic makes it easier for Kyungsoo to hide the blush that suddenly warms his cheeks and the tips of his fingers. They continue to pass the quaint shops and peek at the little art galleries before they spot a small restaurant, indulging themselves with Bitterballen paired with beer.
In the afternoon, they cross the Herengracht and Kiezersgracht canals, arriving at De Negen Straatjes. They take the whole afternoon and stroll down the cobbled streets, admiring the vintage boutiques and specialty shops with less people around compared to others.
Jongin and Jongdae walk ahead of Kyungsoo, laughing together and taking photos of the thrift shops while Junmyeon watches next to him.
“Jongin looks really happy now,” Junmyeon speaks quietly. “Although maybe it’s because I haven’t seen him in a while. He should visit more often.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” Kyungsoo asks.
“A year ago,” he answers. “He was here around the same time, I think.”
“Wasn’t he happy then?”
Junmyeon takes a moment to glance at him, surprised by his question.
“Well, sure,” he ponders. “Look, don’t get me wrong, Kyungsoo. He must have been happy because I was there with him, but I remember a time when I’ve seen him much happier, like when Soojung was still by his side.”
Kyungsoo checks to see Jongin entering a vintage shop with Jongdae trailing behind him, before finding the courage to ask Junmyeon another question, curiosity growing more and more.
“Would you happen to know what happened to them?”
“You’re asking the wrong person,” Junmyeon tells him. “But as far as I know, no one does. He’s never told anyone.”
Kyungsoo feels a brief pang of guilt for trying to invade Jongin’s privacy like that.
“But it’s good now,” Junmyeon says, meeting his eyes, “that he has you.”
Kyungsoo sees where this conversation is going, but whatever he and Jongin were doing wasn’t anything other than travelling the world.
“Oh, no. It’s not what you think. I’m just a friend from Seoul.” Kyungsoo denies.
Junmyeon looks at him for a moment.
“If you say so,” Junmyeon replies, “I guess the real question is… If you want to stay that way?”
Just when Kyungsoo is about to answer, a kid in a Flash costume suddenly dashes right in front of them, running past them and into the street with a plastic pumpkin basket in his hand.
“What the-”
Since this morning, Kyungsoo had seen other kids and people dressed in costumes-Once as they were leaving the unit and another time at Jordaan. He barely remembers how he seems to have seen too many pumpkins and spider webs as decorations.
“Oh, hey, I almost forgot. If you and Jongin are interested, there’s a Halloween Parade assembling in Vondelpark later at eight. There’s music and costumes and everything. You guys can join us.”
“We’ll be there.”
Jongin appears next to Kyungsoo tugging his arm and pulling him away, leaving Jongdae with Junmyeon before he can protest. He leads him inside the same vintage shop he had entered just moments ago, and before he knows it they’re passing a section of old clothes only to stop at a tiny dresser full of things that look like makeup.
“Jongin, what are we doing here?” Kyungsoo asks.
“It’s too late to buy costumes,” Jongin says, “But I saw this and thought of another idea.”
He lightly dabs his finger on a palette, swirling it around as orange pigment sticks to his skin.
“I don’t think I’ll like this idea of yours,” Kyungsoo says.
Jongin raises his finger in the air and in front of him, smiling mischievously.
“Well, right now you won’t have a choice,” Jongin responds before pressing his tinged finger down to his cheek.
“Whoa, what are you doing?!” Kyungsoo asks, quickly stepping back from him and raising his arms.
Jongin grins at the orange dot on the side of his face. “I’m painting your face for the parade.”
“Jongin,” Kyungsoo groans, “You are not putting makeup on me.”
“You will travel with me all the way to Paris but will say no to a little color on your face? Do you really think I’m buying that?”
Of course not, Kyungsoo thinks, then watches as the pilot reaches over one more time to touch his face.
Jongin starts by painting his cheeks with orange, moving his fingertip in a circular motion to both sides of his face. Once it’s done, he pulls out a stool from under the dresser for him to sit on, then proceeds to choose another color. Jongin looks excitedly over the face paint, then pats his finger on a darker color and applies it to his nose.
Kyungsoo stays silent watching him all this time. He watches how Jongin’s face contorts from full concentration to childish excitement, how his eyes give Kyungsoo all the attention while his fingers delicately touch his face, leaving more than just autumn colors on his skin.
He shades his eyebrows and lips with brown, then uses a black pencil eyeliner to draw an outline on his eyebrows, eyes, nose, and lips, finishing off with lines as stitches.
Jongin spins the stool around for Kyungsoo to stare at his reflection.
“Congratulations,” Jongin tells him, “I’ve just turned you into a scarecrow.”
Kyungsoo is quite amazed by the end result. He didn’t think Jongin would be too serious about celebrating Halloween, but with how his makeup had turned out, he thinks maybe this isn’t such a bad idea after all. Kyungsoo turns to Jongin and gives him an approving smile.
“Crazy, right?” Jongin asks, hands clasped together in joy and mirroring the same excitement in Kyungsoo’s eyes. “Now it’s my turn.”
They switch positions-Jongin seated in front of the dresser and Kyungsoo standing in front of him. He looks up at him expectantly while Kyungsoo returns a confused look.
“You want me to paint on you?” Kyungsoo asks.
Jongin closes his eyes, giving him a smile and a nod. “I trust you, Kyungsoo.”
Kyungsoo doesn’t know why his words make his heart speed up, but it makes him genuinely happy.
He picks up the eyeliner, not really knowing what to do with it. He takes one step forward, leaning down until he reaches Jongin’s face level and presses it lightly to his face.
Kyungsoo is definitely not an expert on art, but he traces lines from the middle part of Jongin’s forehead to the bridge of his nose, drawing more lines over his lips then connecting them to the outlines he’d created on his face.
He draws on Jongin’s face for a good five minutes, then turns the stool to face the mirror and asks Jongin to open his eyes.
Jongin obeys, looking at his reflection with something between shock and astonishment quickly written on his face.
Half of Jongin’s face is left blank, while the other half is composed of thick lines that trace from his nose to his lips, going up from the side of his jaw and all the way to his forehead, forming small geometric shapes and tiny lines decorating the bottom of his eye. The lack of color makes the drawing standout, creating something almost similar to an abstract painting.
“Kyungsoo.”
“I know, I could have done better,” Kyungsoo shrugs, still leaning down with his face next to Jongin’s, shooting him a small casual smile through the mirror. “I really didn’t know what came over me.”
“Kyungsoo,” Jongin says, his tone demanding him to listen. “It’s perfect.”
He turns his head to the side just as Jongin does, eyes meeting and faces only inches away from each other.
Kyungsoo notices everything about Jongin, like the small strand of eyelash that had stuck below his eye, and the way his thick lips are slightly chapped. He stares into his eyes and faces an inner battle between listening to what his brain needs him to do and doing what his heart wants him to do.
But Jongin moves first-pulling him close and welcoming him in his arms which circle around his neck. Kyungsoo stands frozen, legs bent and body tilted forward at a weird angle with both hands stuck to his sides.
Jongin is warm and so so close, unexpected like the weather and Kyungsoo’s heart that races faster and faster, fearing that it would explode any moment from now.
The fleeting moment comes and leaves when Jongin pulls away to look back into his face with a wide smile, a smile so bright that he can paint the whole town yellow.
Dusk arrives as soon as they find themselves passing through the Red Light District-Junmyeon and Jongdae having already disappeared from their sights to prepare for the parade-while a range of tourists walk alongside them. They pass a repetition of restaurants, shops, and coffee shops with neon signages flashing at them as they wander through the night street. Walking through the area, Kyungsoo notices couples holding hands and even families walking down the canals. Kyungsoo had already seen most of what Amsterdam has to offer, and he didn’t want to pass up on this chance of seeing the district at least once. The atmosphere is intriguing. He can’t put his finger on it, but there’s an undeniable buzz lingering in the air that would best be described as something unspoken, one full of suspense and in the strangest way, a little bit of erotic.
Kyungsoo grows even more curious when he peers through the floor to ceiling doors, red lights framing the glass windows. There are women of all colors and sizes inside the windows, piquing their interests and greeting them as they pass.
“Do you want to visit a coffee shop?” Jongin asks next to him.
“Coffee?” Kyungsoo asks, confused. “I didn’t know they sold coffee in this place.”
Jongin tries to contain his laughter and keeps an admirable smile on his face. “Sure, that is if we’re talking about the same coffee.”
He still doesn’t understand, until they step inside a dimly lit establishment and sit in front of a table with a cylindrical glass pipe between them. He realizes that in Amsterdam, coffee didn’t exactly mean beans that grew from farms. Jongin calls out a waiter and exchanges a few words with him. Kyungsoo can’t hear him well from the loud reggae music blasting through the speakers, but he catches hearing something along the lines of “Joints” and something “Pre-rolled”.
The waiter leaves and comes back with a small plate of two blunts, hollowed and filled with marijuana.
Kyungsoo watches Jongin take one and files it between his fingers. He asks the waiter to light the blunt, waiting for its end to finally flare up before letting out a long exhale just as the waiter begins to walk away. Thick smoke whizzes through the air and Kyungsoo already smells the earthy herb. He’s not sure if he wants to try it.
Jongin makes a face at him, head facing sideways as he blows smoke through his mouth. “Wow. This stuff is strong.”
Kyungsoo continues to watch in amazement and curiosity, noticing how the weed slowly takes effect on Jongin’s body. His eyes have turned lazy, staring at him with a sleazy smile on his face.
It’s amusing, but Kyungsoo feels guilty for letting him indulge on something like this alone. Jongin brought him here for a reason, and although he knew Jongin wouldn’t force him to do anything he didn’t want to do, maybe Jongin wants him to live in these moments, to experience these acts of impulse and bad decisions.
Kyungsoo takes the other blunt from the plate, trying to arrange it between his fingers just like how he remembers Jongin doing it. He looks at Jongin who is already calling the waiter and borrowing a lighter again. When the waiter walks away, he urges Kyungsoo to move closer to light the blunt.
Kyungsoo leans in, his shaky fingers raised close to his mouth with his joint stuck in between. Jongin holds his hand to keep it still, lighting the end of the stick and silently watching the fire flicker momentarily.
Kyungsoo doesn’t know if what he’s doing is correct but he inhales all too fast, taking too much of the smoke into his lungs with an unpreparedness that causes him to choke on his breath, coughing instantly as puffs of smoke escape his mouth. Jongin rubs his back soothingly as Kyungsoo settles down with a burning sensation left on his throat and a bitter taste on his tongue.
Moments later, Kyungsoo feels the hit-the music grows loud and clear in his ears along with other people’s bickering, while the pungent smell of weed turns stronger. He’s overwhelmed by the intensity of his senses heightened, with Jongin’s touches making him feel more light-headed than usual.
Kyungsoo suddenly laughs. He laughs and laughs over nothing, while Jongin joins him.
“This is insane,” Kyungsoo tells him.
“And you, maybe even more so. I can’t believe you did that. Come to think of it, I’ve never seen you so relaxed.”
“I haven’t had a good laugh in a while, maybe since my entire life,” Kyungsoo says truthfully. “This feels really, really good.”
“The weed helps,” Jongin comments. “Sometimes all we need is a little escape from life.”
Jongin begins to look at him differently. He has an elbow on top of the table with his free hand cupping his doodled face, blowing smoke from the blunt to the side while his eyes are beguiling, almost adoringly staring into his own.
“Why are looking at me like that?” Kyungsoo asks.
He balances the joint between two fingers and shakes his head, smiling.
“Nothing,” he says, “It’s just.. I wonder where you came from.”
He looks confusedly at him.
“You’re saying weird things right now,” Kyungsoo jokes, “I’ll take it as the plant talking.”
Jongin laughs softly, “I know what I’m saying. I think you know what I mean.”
“But I don’t. Not really,” Kyungsoo replies. “Would you mind elaborating it for me?”
“What I mean is,” Jongin says, “Sometimes, I wonder how the universe conspired in leading you to me. I’m still trying to believe how someone like you had come into my life like this.”
Kyungsoo’s eyes grow wide hearing what he said.
“Like what, Jongin?” Kyungsoo asks, more serious this time.
“I don’t know,” he answers with an uncertainty in his voice, but continues on to say, “Just like this. Like this place could be beautiful again.”
Kyungsoo’s heart races.
He remembers Jongin on the way to Amsterdam, sleeping on the train and reading a book just so he could drift apart from this world. Being inside the coffee shop almost feels the same, except when Kyungsoo was with Jongin, he couldn’t tell the difference between the reality and escaping to a world of his own.
The parade had already begun once they arrive at Vondelpark, witnessing a showcase of people in a variety of halloween costumes with huge floats and inflatable puppets roaming around the area. They spot Junmyeon and Jongdae walking along the parade, laughing hysterically at their twinning Hershey’s chocolate costumes as they join them while the other pair passes them red paper cups filled with booze.
Time quickly permeates, and moments of walking, drinking, and dancing all but pass into a state of drunken bliss.
It’s eleven in the evening when locals start to pack up and leave the park, walking away giddily and intoxicated. Junmyeon is throwing Jongdae’s arm over his shoulder and apologizing profusely when he drunkenly yells at the top of his lungs for no reason. He collects Jongdae’s body and carries him in his arms before saying goodbye.
Kyungsoo runs as Jongin chases him down an empty street, slowing his steps when he makes it to the middle of the road and trying hard not to fall.
The buzz from their lingering highs are twice as strong as the time they drank in Scotland. Kyungsoo can still hear the music in his ears, spinning around in a sloppy twirl as he dances underneath the moonlight with eyes closed. He tries to hum a melody in the air, and when he opens his eyes he finds Jongin watching him with a lazy grin on his tired face.
The alcohol makes Kyungsoo courageous, lifting a finger up and gesturing for Jongin to dance along with him. He chuckles heartily and steps forward, bracing his arms around his waist while Kyungsoo drapes his own over his shoulders.
Together they sway in the silence, staring at each other as if nothing else mattered in this moment, trapped in their own little escape.
It’s when their bodies unknowingly move closer does Kyungsoo realize that he’s bordering uncharted territory. Jongin’s eyes are dark, filled with something indescribable as he looks down at him.
“You look absolutely ridiculous right now,” he teases playfully. If half of Jongin’s drawn face had already melted from the stickiness of the paint, Kyungsoo can only imagine the damage on his own face.
“Well, I can’t disagree with you on that,” Kyungsoo answers with a soft laugh. “I’m a complete mess.”
A sheen of sweat drips from his forehead all the way down to his jaw with Jongin lightly brushing it away. His hand stays where it is, tracing the line in his jaw to slowly cup his face.
“Yeah,” Jongin says, almost in a whisper, “Yeah, me too.”
Kyungsoo is even more of a mess now, his heart pounding in his chest from the proximity of their faces and the eyes that bore into his own. They’re alone on the dark street and he’s terrified.
Jongin looks down, down, down on his lips and he can’t breathe. He tries to hide his panic but he’s clutching onto his shirt too tightly, wishing he can run away.
And just as they lean forward, headlights suddenly flash over their faces.
Kyungsoo releases the air he didn’t realize he’d been keeping while Jongin backs away. His eyes don’t give anything away, but he quietly takes his hand, leading him to the taxi and following him inside.
It’s silent inside. Kyungsoo’s mind is hazy and clouded with wrongful judgement, but because of what had happened just moments ago, he thinks that maybe, just maybe, Jongin wanted something to happen.
It’s only then does Kyungsoo realize that things have changed since meeting Jongin, since learning his history and since he got high, and maybe he wanted the same thing just as much.
Then Kyungsoo is suddenly brave again, closing the gap between them and leaning over Jongin’s painted face.
Kyungsoo has never felt desire for anything or anyone, until his lips finally crash into his.
(4/4)