twenty-one: we are never ever getting back together

On Monday, Gregory doesn't show up to class.

And like a fool, Jeong-Soon waits for him. He zones out in every class and gets kicked out again by Ms Eliza for not paying attention---alone, this time. He knows he shouldn't, that he should focus instead of worrying over a boy who'd dumped him just two days before. But Gregory's empty seat is evident among the whirling throng of students, stark against the backdrop of a crowded room, and Jeong-Soon can't help the glances he sneaks back at the unoccupied chair, almost expecting Gregory and his scarlet jacket to materialise in the corner like a rose blooming from the shadows.

What if he---

He can't bring himself to think that way, can't bear to even entertain the thought. Gregory's alive. Gregory's okay. But no matter how hard he tries, Jeong-Soon can't convince himself that Gregory Gan is alright, because he had definitely not been okay on Saturday.

Every time he looks back at the deserted corner, so empty without Gregory's crimson vibrance, something sour squeezes his heart in a fist. His chest feels tight, too tight, stitched up with golden-gloss thread from all the words he'd never say, the feelings he yearns to tell. And although he tries not to worry too much, the eternity of waiting bruises the creatures behind his ribs until he can hardly breathe. Waiting, waiting, waiting.

During English, the last lesson of the day, Jeong-Soon reaches for his phone again. It's become a habit, his fingers eagerly creeping for the device every other minute---in Maths, in Physics, in the long lines streaking the cafeteria. All to see whether Gregory has replied to the sixty-nine messages Jeong-Soon has sent him since Saturday.

Gregory's phone is still off. The sixty-nine messages are still undelivered.

Jeong-Soon can't help it---the imprint of Gregory's eager mouth on his suddenly feels like gasoline on his lips, dripping to the floor in a vengeful cadence, fuelled by every second that passes on the clock. And he'd be lying if he claimed he doesn't feel the ache, doesn't feel the pain pooling over his feet, doesn't feel like he's about to burst into flames.

The worry eats him up inside. It doesn't cease, not even when one of the people sitting next to the window pulls open the curtains and floods the classroom with sunlight. The small, golden beams splay themselves across Jeong-Soon's desk, and every time he tries to soak his fingers in them, they dance just out of his reach---taunting him, teasing him, inflaming the misery filling his head.

A tap on his shoulder, and he spins to the side. Dillon's staring at him with concern in his bright eyes. "Are you okay? You've been really quiet since yesterday," his best friend notes.

Jeong-Soon drags a hand through his hair, the ragged strands crinkling under his nails. He remembers how Gregory had pointed out that particular habit, back when they'd been kissing outside classrooms and skipping lessons to bathe in the sun. "Gregory and I broke up," he admits, in as soft of a whisper as he can manage.

Dillon's eyes widen, almost bugging out of his head. "How long were you guys even together? A week? Two, tops?"

"I know!" Jeong-Soon groans, dropping his head in his hands. "I need to talk to him. But he's not here today. And I'm worried."

"What even happened?" Dillon frowns. "Was it because of the whole Rylee thing? It was because I flogged you off on him that day, right? Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry---"

"No!" Jeong-Soon's acutely aware of his fingers on the table, lumps of lead in their peachy cartridges. Ice fills their fragile shells as the sunlight recedes, leaving nothing but the ghost of its hallowed warmth behind. "No. I---he---I---" We had sex. He threatened me. I told him I loved him. He can't say any of that. Not to Dillon, despite him being his best friend. Instead, he blurts, "How did things go with Rylee?" Although Jeong-Soon had made his way back to Dillon's the day before, he'd moped around silently the entire time, refusing to talk to anyone except the demons in his head.

Dillon brightens instantly, Jeong-Soon's failed love life seemingly forgotten. "It went great! We got along really well, and, um..." His cheeks burn red, something rather out of character for him. "I, uh, lost my V-card. And other shit happened. But that one's the most important!" Then his face softens, gloom settling over it. "I'm sorry! That was really insensitive of me! You probably didn't want to hear that, well, not right now, anyway---"

"Dillon," Jeong-Soon sighs. "It's fine. I was literally the one who asked. I'm happy you're getting along with him well. Even though he has a dorky name."

"Well, excuuuse me," Dillon huffs. "He didn't name himself. And I personally like his name."

Despite the dull ache chipping away at his heart, Jeong-Soon can't help grinning. "It would be a shame if you didn't like his name, considering how he's the one who took your ass for the first time."

Dillon nods solemnly, then bursts into laughter so loud the entire class swivels around to look at him. "Looks like you're the only one left in the Virgin Club between the two of us," he teases, making Jeong-Soon choke.

"Dillon, Jeong-Soon, could you guys please stop talking? If not, I'll have to separate you," Mr Sim calls from the front of the room.

"Sorry, Mr Sim," Jeong-Soon apologises. Dillon nods quickly, then drops his voice to a whisper.

"You look like you've just seen a ghost," he points out.

Jeong-Soon shuts his eyes. Images flash through his head, sensations flowing through his nerves as the blood in his veins turns to cherry wine. Nails in his hair, tugging hard. Heat wrapped around him, hardly shielded by the embrace of rubber and sin. Swollen scarlet lips, twisted against his own with the promise of love and hope and a future. And there'd been the symphony in his heart, the melody in every artery, con brio, a stunning writhe of colours that had exploded everywhere when the storm had hit its peak.

"Jeong-Soon? Dude, are you okay?" Dillon's waving a hand in front of his face, ignoring the curious glances their classmates are sending them.

Pain arcs through Jeong-Soon's hands, and he realises he's gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles have gone white, frost spreading over his fingertips, liquid agony spilling through his veins. He loosens his grasp on his desk, doing his best to shake all his feelings out of his head. Jeong-Soon manages a wan smile. "Yeah. I'm good."

Dillon doesn't look convinced. "You don't look good."

"I'm good. By the way, I'm going back to my sister's tomorrow. Just thought I'd let you know. Thanks for letting me crash at yours," Jeong-Soon says, and when surprise floods Dillon's face, he mentally thanks his best friend's nonexistent attention span.

"Does that mean no more sleepovers?" Dillon whispers.

Jeong-Soon giggles. "I'll probably come over again soon. So no, this isn't the end of the sleepovers."

His best friend sighs. "I think Dad's going to be even sadder than me to see you go. He told me you could stay as long as you like---forever, if you wanted to. He's probably a few days away from filing adoption papers."

A laugh escapes Jeong-Soon's throat. "Tell him I'll miss him too. I'm not leaving, though. Just...going back home, you know? I can't crash at your place forever."

Dillon pouts. "I wish you could. You're like the brother I never had. My parents love you too." Then he raises an eyebrow. "I thought you and Si-Young had a really bad fight, though?"

"Yeah, well..." Jeong-Soon stretches his hands out across his table, feeling his knuckles pop and crack. The sunlight is back, bathing the desk in a soft amber glow. He reaches out, and this time, he's finally able to touch the sun, auric beams washing over his fingertips, the ice in his veins running warm. A shaky smile slowly spreads across his face, because the sunlight is a reassurance, a promise that everything is going to be okay. "Some people deserve second chances."

٩( ᐛ )و

When Jeong-Soon walks out of class, Dillon at his side, Archer's standing in front of the door.

"Hey, Jeong-Soon," Archer drawls, cooler than a cucumber, one arm slung over the railing he's leaning against. He's wearing his glasses today, and behind the thick lenses, his copper eyes gleam with a hint of mischief.

A bad feeling instantly slams into Jeong-Soon's gut.

"Hi," Jeong-Soon greets. When Dillon side-eyes him curiously, he continues, "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, you know." Archer smirks. "Just hanging around."

"What does Aimee want? Couldn't it wait half an hour or so? We've got music class after school. She can tell me...whatever she wants to tell me then."

Archer's grin widens. "Oh, I'm not here on Aimee's behalf. Can't a guy just hang out with his friend whenever he wants?" He moves over to Jeong-Soon's side, draping an arm over his slim shoulders. "Come on, let's take a walk. I want to talk to you."

The sinking feeling in Jeong-Soon's stomach coils, a snake ready to strike at any moment. He whips around to Dillon, whose expression can only be described as confused. "I'll see you later, Dillon. Archer and I have...stuff. I think."

Without waiting for a response, Archer immediately pulls him away, making Jeong-Soon yelp in surprise. When they're a short distance away from the meandering crowd of students rushing home, he sneaks a peek at Archer's face. There's no malicious intent in the relaxed tilt of his mouth or the sharpness of his eyes, but all the same, Jeong-Soon feels his heart sink.

"I have music class in half an hour," Jeong-Soon says.

Archer chuckles, a lighthearted sound that sends Jeong-Soon's stomach into his feet. "Don't worry, I'll walk you there. We can talk outside your class, and when we're done, you can go straight in."

"No alley," Jeong-Soon quickly insists. He can't bear to go back in---can't bear to see the memory of Gregory's limp body splayed prone across the dingy floor, a pool of scarlet dripping off his busted face. The image's still seared into his eyeballs, and he can't bear to see it again---even if it's only in his head.

"No alley," Archer reassures him, the weight of his arm suddenly a thousand times heavier over Jeong-Soon's shoulders. Then his easy grin's back, slowly looping over his face like ink on a road map. "Oh, look. We're here. That was fast, wasn't it?"

Jeong-Soon glances around. A familiar door greets him---one of the other classrooms. Maybe Mia's. He's not too sure. "This isn't the music room."

'Exactly." Archer's friendly tone is still there, but there's an almost evil lilt to it now. "Get in."

Jeong-Soon instantly tears himself away from Archer's hold, hands rising above his head in surrender. The sinking feeling in his belly threatens to swallow him whole. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, I think we're, uh, crossing a bit of a line here---"

"Get inside, Jeong-Soon. It's about your boyfriend." The airy easiness of Archer's voice is completely gone now, and when Jeong-Soon turns slightly, he doesn't miss the hard, straight press of Archer's lips and the way his copper eyes glint with malice. Then the darkness is gone from his face, a rain cloud leaving the sky. Archer smiles pleasantly. "It's easy, you know? You've just got to put your hand on the knob, twist it, and the door comes open!"

"Y-yeah," Jeong-Soon mumbles. He wants the floor to swallow him up. The familiar edge of worry creeps into his heart, filling every inch of his body with its acrid hostility. "I...I know how to open a door."

"Then do it."

Jeong-Soon complies, slipping into the classroom, Archer not far behind. It's empty. His heart's beating like a racehorse, thrumming against his ribcage in a fast, unsteady cadence, so swift he worries it might beat out of his chest. He shifts nervously, comforting himself with the fact that he's still got his phone and about three inches on Archer. "Dude, this isn't funny. I have class."

"I'm not fucking around, Jeong-Soon," Archer spits, irritation clear on his face. He yanks out his phone. "You owe me one, don't you?" His exasperation morphs into a grin, teeth like knives in his mouth. Then he lifts his phone and turns his screen to Jeong-Soon.

No. No. No no no no no.

"Looks like you don't really know me after all," Archer purrs in Jeong-Soon's ear, suddenly next to him. There's barely an inch of distance between them. Close. Too close. Way too close.

"You promised," Jeong-Soon mumbles, tongue like sandpaper in his mouth. A cold sweat's broken out over his palm, and the back of his neck itches. He'd seen Archer delete the photos a week ago. He'd seen him wipe the pictures from his phone and send them into the void. But still, it's there, Gregory's naked body, splayed across the device for the world to see. "You promised me you'd delete all of them."

"I did. All of them." Archer's lips curve. "Except this one. Shows off his face rather nicely, don't you think? And that's a mighty slutty position for his legs to be in. Really leaves nothing to the imagination, doesn't it?"

"No," Jeong-Soon rasps, knees weak. "You can't do this. Why the hell are you---what do you even want?"

Archer's smirk widens, and then he's leaning in, closer and closer, silencing the gap between them, too close too close too close---

"You owe me one," Archer whispers.

Then he smashes their lips together.

Jeong-Soon feels his heart stop, and he can't see, can't hear, can't breathe, numbness prickling at his skin and colouring his vision black. Ice runs through his veins again, and the sunlight had been wrong, because it's not okay, not okay not okay not okay, I don't want this, get off me, stop stopstopstopstopstop--- Words swirl around in his head, a neon hallucination with all the vibrance leached out of it, and he doesn't like it, doesn't enjoy it, doesn't want it, pushing, pushing, pushing---

Jeong-Soon's hands shove against Archer's chest, and just like that, the uncomfortable closeness is gone, and Archer is no longer kissing him. Instead, Archer is on the floor, one hand rubbing his ass and murder in his eyes. His glasses and phone lie next to him, forlorn at his side.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Jeong-Soon screams, the words erupting from his lungs in a breathless cry, a wounded animal in the wild. His chest is tight, too tight, and he can't breathe, can't fucking breathe---

"You owe me one," Archer hisses. He gets up, rising off the ground, a million monsters in his eyes, his hands reaching, reaching, reaching...

A shadow over the open doorway. A crack like a gunshot. Archer's bloody nose spilling scarlet over the snow-tiled floor.

"Afternoon, fucker," Sully snarls, his massive right hand balled up into a bruised-knuckled fist. "So nice of you to leave the door open." He slams his fist into Archer's face again, sending him down once more. "You know, I'm not a big fan of PDA. Especially when that PDA's no longer PDA, but assault."

Archer groans. Sully punches him again.

Jeong-Soon can't help staring, staring at the bright vermillion spreading across the floor as Archer gets his face pounded in by Sully's gigantic paws. Can't help wondering if that could have been his blood instead, if Sully hadn't stumbled in. Then he snaps back to reality, away from the cardinal shards splattered over the ground. "Sully," he manages to get out through his heavy tongue and airless lungs. "You're going to kill him."

"I fully plan on doing so," Sully answers, smashing the back of Archer's head into the ground.

"We're both going to go to jail."

"Nah. I've got a video. And I'm the principal's kid. No one's going to jail except this fucker."

"Please don't kill him."

"Don't tempt me." Just when Jeong-Soon's starting to wonder if he should step in, Sully finally gets up, his huge hands coated in blood. Archer's almost unrecognisable, face beaten in even worse than Gregory's had been. He's barely conscious, lifting his head off the ground slightly, only to drop it back down with a low moan.

"Sully, I---" Jeong-Soon starts.

Sully pulls out a checkered handkerchief and calmly wipes the blood off his hands before stuffing it back inside his pocket. "Don't worry, Jeong-Soon," he rumbles. "I've got it all covered." He doesn't smile, but then again, Sully never smiles. "He was dumb enough to leave the door open. And I'm quite the photographer myself." He crouches down, and Jeong-Soon doesn't miss the way Archer's half-closed eyes flick open. "Or in this case, a videographer."

"You..." Jeong-Soon runs his fingers through his hair, trying to ignore the urge to sandpaper his violated lips off. "You taped our conversation? How did you...how did you even find us?"

Sully scowls. "Mia was looking for you. Said something about wanting to chat before music class started. She was busy. I came to get you. The twerp said you went off with the wannabe bad boy here. Didn't take me that long to find his scummy ass." He shoots a disgusted glare at Archer's prone body. "I didn't think he'd go that far, though, if not I'd have bashed his face in the minute I found you two."

"Sully, tha---" Jeong-Soon's cut off by his friend wrapping him in a bone-crushing hard, so tight he thinks a squeak may have escaped his vocal chords.

"You're going to be okay, alright?" Sully mutters. "Everything is gonna be okay. I'm sorry that happened to you. I should have done something sooner. Just say the word, and I'll release the video so we can string this fucker up on a stick and roast his innards over the fireplace."

"Sully." Jeong-Soon tentatively hugs his friend back, relief brimming in his throat. "Thank you. But...don't. He's got blackmail material. On my boyfriend." Ex-boyfriend, his mind says. Boyfriend, his heart insists.

Sully releases him instantly, heading over to the boy sprawled across the floor. He crouches down next to Archer's head, and Jeong-Soon notices how Archer flinches. "Get out your phone," Sully demands.

Archer's hand, limp at his side, twitches.

"Do it now or I'll beat up more than just your face. Type in your password too," Sully orders. Archer's face contorts into a grimace, teeth clenching as blood dribbles from his lips in swelling rivulets. His fingers reach for the phone on the ground next to him, yanking it up to his face and slowly typing in something. Once his grip on the device falters, Sully snatches it from his hand.

Jeong-Soon slowly peers over his friend's shoulder, just in time to see Sully delete the incriminating picture and toss the phone onto Archer's bloody body. "He might have extras," Jeong-Soon remarks.

"It doesn't matter. The moment this picture leaves his device, I send my recording to my dad." Sully yanks out his own phone, swivelling around to Archer again. "You're a special breed of asshole, you know that? Especially since you've been locking lips with your boyfriend all afternoon."

Boyfriend? That's new. I don't ever recall Archer having a boyfriend.

Archer's rapidly-bruising eyes widen again.

"Yeah, I saw you and Sam. Stumbling upon you two eating each other's faces off was absolute torture for my poor asexual soul. Demented, jackass fuckers, both of you. You deserve each other," Sully growls. "Except even Sam doesn't deserve a boyfriend who kisses him one minute and then promptly fucks off to smooch another guy without his consent the next."

"Fuck off," Archer wisps from his spot on the ground, then promptly passes out. Sully moves to punch him again. Jeong-Soon grabs his arm to hold him back.

"Hey, I'm not going to jail before I even get my driver's license," Jeong-Soon complains.

"Again, video proof," Sully reminds him.

"We're not killing someone."

"We're not killing someone. I'm killing someone."

"Nobody is killing anyone."

"Speak for yourself."

Jeong-Soon feels something bubbling up his throat---laughter. It feels almost dirty to let it out, especially when the imprint of Archer's mouth still sticks to him like a stamp and there's a bloody semi-corpse on the floor, but he does, chuckles pouring from his lips until he manages to pull himself together again. "Thanks, Sully. Why'd you even...delete the picture? I thought you...didn't like Gregory."

Sully pulls himself up to his full height of six-foot-five, a deep sigh escaping him. "I don't. But you do. And you're one of my only two friends, so I figured I'd help you out."

"How'd you...know I like him before I said he was my boyfriend? We were fighting a lot."

"I sit at the back and the curtains at the back were open on Friday," Sully deadpans.

Confusion fills Jeong-Soon's mind. Then it hits him like a truck. "Oh. You saw us?" he questions, feeling himself flush bright red.

"It was hard not to." Sully glances down at Archer's limp body. "Should we bury him now?"

"Sully," Jeong-Soon groans. "He's not dead."

"Wish he was."

"Sully."

"Fine. Let's go. You're gonna be late for class, and you're probably gonna want to wash your mouth first." Sully pauses. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, Jeong-Soon squeezes his eyes shut, wondering if he really is okay, if everything really is fine. Then he remembers the sunlight, trickling over his fingers and dusting them in halcyon serenity. A promise that everything would be alright.

Just trust the universe.

"Yeah," Jeong-Soon manages, gracing his friend with a wan smile. "Let's get out of here. I've got to wash my mouth out with antibacterial soap. Wouldn't want to catch any germs, after all." He sneaks a glance back at Archer's body. "He'll be fine. Let's go."

٩( ᐛ )و

When Jeong-Soon finally gets to the music room, lips still stinging from the Dettol hand wash he'd doused them in, he knows he's late. And when he sees Gregory Gan in front of the closed door, he knows he's about to be even later.

Gregory's eyebrows flick up, and he looks almost surprised to see Jeong-Soon---Jeong-Soon can't tell whether he's genuinely shocked or faking it. The all-too-familiar fire in Gregory's impossibly dark eyes sends Jeong-Soon reeling, because it's been two years since he's seen that much vibrance in Gregory's irises. The flames flicker unwaveringly, fuoco stolen from the grave. Gone are the meager embers that had earlier inhabited Gregory's heated stare, and fire, hot and bright and red, burns in their place.

It makes him stop and stare, and so he does. The breeze circling them picks up, swishing dried leaves and pebbly gravel around Jeong-Soon's denim-clad legs, the wind brushing invisible fingertips over his chapped mouth. A stray pink petal, blown off one of the nearby trees, lands in Gregory's hair, stark against his ebony locks.

Jeong-Soon can't help it. He closes the distance between them until there's barely an inch between the tips of their sneakers, so close he can almost hear the ragged symphony of Gregory's fiery heartbeat. His hand moves to Gregory's head, gently brushing the flower petal away from his dark hair.

"Hey," Jeong-Soon says softly, fear and relief battling for dominance in his heart. Relief that Gregory's still completely intact, and fear for what he's going to do next.

"Hey," Gregory replies. His voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and he can't seem to look Jeong-Soon in the eye. "I missed you."

"I wanted to talk to you today, but you didn't come to class." Leaves nuzzle at Jeong-Soon's bare elbows, making the hair on his arms stand up. And he knows they shouldn't be standing so close, so intimate, like they'd never broken up in the first place---but he can't help himself. It feels so right. So right it couldn't possibly be wrong.

"Yeah, about that..." Gregory scratches at the back of his neck, still staring at his shoes. "I didn't come because, um..." He shakes his head. "Fuck," he mutters, cheeks blooming scarlet.

"It's okay. Hey, it's okay. Look at me. Please." When Gregory doesn't respond, Jeong-Soon tentatively slips his fingers under Gregory's chin, so slowly he worries he might combust. Gregory doesn't pull away. Instead, he keens into Jeong-Soon's touch, a soft, pleased noise rolling off his tongue. Spurred by Gregory's seemingly-positive reaction, Jeong-Soon gently tilts the other boy's head up, his brown eyes meeting Gregory's obsidian ones. "It's okay," he repeats. "What happened?"

"Marilyn took me to check out a counsellor she recommended this morning. I quite like him. I think I might stick out a few more sessions, at least," Gregory admits. Then, as if ashamed of his statement, he jerks his chin free of Jeong-Soon's hold and continues staring at his sneakers.

Jeong-Soon freezes for a moment. Then it hits him.

"You're getting help?" Jeong-Soon mentally kicks himself for letting his surprise shine through his tone, but he's pretty sure his shock is already evident in every crevice of his face---from the incredulity filling his eyes to the invisible smile hovering over his mouth, unsure whether to split his lips in a grin or not.

Gregory shifts his gaze up, then looks away again. His face is the same shade as his ratty jacket. "Yeah," he mumbles, shuffling his feet awkwardly. Another petal lands in his hair. Jeong-Soon resists the urge to brush it away with his lips, opting to shake it free from Gregory's charcoal locks with a casual flick of his hand instead. "I thought about what you said. A lot. And Marilyn talked to me. Kinda. We had a long chat." He takes a deep breath, the imprint of the bones poking through his faded t-shirt rising and falling. "I'm sorry. I panicked. And I know it's no excuse for threatening you, but for what it's worth, I wouldn't have hurt you." His teeth poke out of his mouth, nibbling nervously at his lower lip. "I would never be able to hurt you. I would never forgive myself."

"You're...getting help?" Jeong-Soon repeats hesitantly, almost scared to believe it, scared to let hope blossom in his heart.

Gregory nods---a sharp, shallow movement of his head that Jeong-Soon almost misses, but it's there, and there are no lies in his midnight irises. "Yeah."

Jeong-Soon feels himself moving even closer to Gregory, as if drawn by an unseen magnet, every nerve in his body a helpless iron filling against the current. "But..." His voice is soft, too soft, tinny in his suddenly breathless throat. "Why?"

"Because of you." Gregory kicks at the gravel, pebbles flying from the tip of his shoe and landing in the emerald grass. He's beautiful like this, so beautiful, wrapped in falling flower petals and the wild, long-abandoned sparks of forgotten hope. The wind twirls through the tangled hair touching the nape of his neck, licorice wisps dancing over his tanned, fire-fuelled face. "I'm a piece of shit. We all know that. I accepted that long ago, and I thought I was perfectly happy being a piece of shit. But you..." It's then that Gregory lifts his head to meet Jeong-Soon's undoubtedly shocked gaze, and his eyes are full of nothing but sincerity, black diamonds in a starless night. "You make me want to be a better person, Jeong-Soon."

And just like that, Gregory is in his arms, skinny hands wreathed around Jeong-Soon's waist. His thin face is buried in Jeong-Soon's chest, and Jeong-Soon feels his heart race as Gregory hugs him tight, as if afraid he'll disappear if he lets go. He wraps his own arms around Gregory, pulling him closer and dipping down to bury his face in his boyfriend's hair. "I'm honoured," Jeong-Soon murmurs. "Does that mean we're back together again?"

A muffled sound leaves Gregory's mouth---the same hoarse, throaty, slightly unsteady laugh he'd let out when they'd been at his house. A wave of relief instantly washes over Jeong-Soon, because in that second, everything's strangely okay.

Jeong-Soon wants to submerge himself in the moment and stay there forever, but he reluctantly detaches himself from Gregory. "I think we should take it slow, though," he suggests. He wrinkles up his nose when perplexion spreads over Gregory's face. "Well, slower, anyway."

Gregory snorts. "Does that mean no more fucking after a week of dating each other? I was really hoping to introduce you to the art of choking soon."

"Maybe later." Jeong-Soon leans over and presses a kiss to the top of Gregory's head, satisfaction flooding him at how his boyfriend simply melts into his affection. "Right now, I think I want to take it slow with you. Because you deserve to be loved, and my way of loving is a little more leisurely than yours." Jeong-Soon wraps his arms around Gregory again, holding him, convincing himself that he's real. Solid, not a mirage. Certain, not a hallucination. "So, Gregory, will you let me do it?"

"Do what?" Gregory asks.

"Will you let me love you?"

Gregory inhales deeply, and for a minute, Jeong-Soon thinks he might run for the hills. Instead, he leans into Jeong-Soon's embrace with a sigh. "Of course, dumbass. Only if you'll let me love you too."

Then Jeong-Soon looks down, and Gregory is smiling, actually smiling, yellowed teeth turned upwards in the unmistakeable curve of a grin, and he's so radiant Jeong-Soon thinks he might faint, because damn it, the sun shines out of Gregory's face when he's not scowling, despite the crookedness of his sharp nose and the ebbings of hesitancy lining his lips.

Jeong-Soon's heart is an inferno, and it tugs at every marionette string in his chest, setting all his reservations on fire and burning them away. He tightens his grasp, yanks his boyfriend closer, presses Gregory's head into his chest and holds him like a lifeline. Tears prickle the back of his eyes, and he doesn't know why, because he's so deliriously happy he could cry. "I love you," he confesses. "I love you so much I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Want to know a secret?" Gregory's smile doesn't waver. "I fucking love you too."

Jeong-Soon can't help it---he throws his head back and laughs, jubilance running through his veins instead of blood. He holds his boyfriend and laughs, because Gregory Gan is here, and Gregory Gan is finally his. His to hug, his to kiss, his to love. "Let me take you on a date. This calls for a celebration." He feels his cheeks pink. "Or something."

"Yeah." Gregory shoots a glance towards the closed door of the music room. "Later. After class. I, uh, promised Marilyn I'd show up today, and that I'd actually sit through the whole lesson."

"Of course," Jeong-Soon says, and fuck it, he's happy, so happy he could sing, his heart trilling in his chest, dolce in its ivory cage. And he wants to burn, burn, burn, burn in the fire in Gregory Gan's eyes, burn in the fire in Gregory Gan's heart, burn in the fire in Gregory Gan's soul. A midnight rhapsody over his feverish skin, butterflies painting a tapestry in his heart.

The smile doesn't leave Gregory's face, and Jeong-Soon's never been so ecstatic to be a moon in his orbit. "I wonder what your friends would think, though."

On a normal day, those words would stop Jeong-Soon in his tracks, would send his thoughts into overdrive. But there's something about the cool breeze in the air, the sunlight in the sky, the fresh leaves on his shoulders, and suddenly, he couldn't care less about what his friends would think. He feels light. He feels reckless. He feels free.

"They'll understand," Jeong-Soon says. He finally lets go of his boyfriend, his hand instantly seeking out Gregory's palm. He laces their fingers together, and it's not a complete fit, just a creak short of perfect, but it works, and when Gregory's hot palm throbs against his own, Jeong-Soon decides he doesn't care about perfect. His free hand makes its way to the doorknob. "Come on, Gregory. Let's go."

Then he opens the door, and they make their way into the future.

don't remove this from your libraries cause this ain't over yet lmao

anygays~

fun fact: remember chapter 'kiss and make up'? yeah, so i switched the chapter titles. THIS was supposed to be chapter 'kiss and make up'. THAT was supposed to be chapter 'we are never ever getting back together'. it's listed as such in the playlist (which will be published soon).

WHY did i switch the chapter titles, you may ask?

because i'm a massive troll and wanted y'alls to freak out upon seeing the chapter title lmao

*mic drop* (did you see my bag~)

glossary:

con brio — lively, with vigour

fuoco — fire

dolce — soft, smooth

the epilogue is coming next week! that's right, we are ALMOST at the end of Jeory's story...unless you count the three bonus chapters i'm gonna publish after the epilogue. but we're still technically nearing the end of Jeory's story.

also, i need a HUGE favour! one of the bonus chapters will be a QNA CHAPTER! which means that you get to ask not only TSP's characters, but also THEIR AUTHOR, absolutely ANYTHING! that's right, ANYTHING! you are allowed to ask any questions (any number of questions you like, too!) to TSP's characters AND me, Alex :D just comment your question(s), and we'll answer them in the QnA! (please do ask questions, i don't want this to flop haha)

fun fact: i wanted this chapter to be perfect! i rewrote it so many times that i ended up going back to my old habit of reading p0rn before writing in a desperate attempt to find my muse! (although that could be just an excuse for how much i fapped this week. 6 times in 6 days, if you're curious. depression's wild.)

okay, so this is THE cutest chapter i've written so far (at least, the third section of it. fvk Archer and his scummy non-con ass.) like, i am COMPLETELY aware that the whole falling flowers love confession k-drama type schist is cliché, overused, and only happens in the movies. does it look like i give a frick? no. let me be self-indulgent in peace.

is it the best chapter i've written so far? honestly, no, but it's joined the ranks of chapter 7 & 16 as my favourites. because i like it, no matter how bad it is.

also, guess what? first aro-ace character. (although Sully only says he's asexual, he's aro-ace, but 'aro-ace' was too clunky, so i stuck with just asexual in his dialogue.) first asexual character, actually. ironic, given how i'm ace-spec myself, but it took me like 2000 books to write an ace character. i wanted Sully to be a hella buff aro-ace non-sterotypical principal's kid with like two friends. because i pride myself on characterising even the side characters. you're welcome. Sully says hi.

let me know what you think of this chapter, as usual! i live for feedback, and i genuinely appreciate everything you guys have to say! (although i can't reply to the comments yet, because y'know,,,school,,,) but please leave some comments anyway, and i promise i will reply eventually! and again, let me know what you think of this chapter, so i know how to improve when i start editing!

see you again in the epilogue, next week ;)

love y'alls mwaaahhh *gbf pose*

xoxo, Alex