Archive of Our Own

In this kingdom by the sea;

[. . .] we loved with a love that was more than love

— Edgar Allan Poe, Annabel Lee

I.

They lived in an apartment on the coastline that summer, a beautiful apartment that Hongbin loved dearly. The walls were pine green with flecks of white that glittered beneath the mid-day sun and when the sun began to set, light the color of old wedding bands would pour into the apartment and shine like gilt and the sea would burn a deep blue as the tide rippled and the boats sailed home. At night they would lie very quiet and very still in the sultry silence of their half furnished bedroom and wait for the light of the lighthouse to grace their balcony window. A torrent of light as bright as the sun would shine through the thin white curtains and reflect ghostly off the painted green walls, and Hongbin would feel his heart warm as the room became a kaleidoscope of colors. It was the most romantic part of the evening.

But tonight, as the light came and so quickly went, Hongbin felt cold to his core. His heart beat erratic, it beat slowly. He placed a palm over his chest and felt the thrum of his pulse so like the beat of a death march against the soft flesh of his palm and wondered if he would feel this way for all of time.

“What is it?” Taekwoon asked.

“I don't know,” Hongbin told him. He turned on his side and faced the window, able to see the frothy top of the sea. It thrashed crystalline white beneath the midnight light of the moon. It was bleached and very empty; it looked as lonely as Hongbin felt.

“Do you not love me anymore?” Taekwoon wanted to know.

“Of course I do. Don't ask me that.”

“Then what could be making you look so sad?”

“I think—I don't know—I think I'm lonely.”

“How can you be lonely?” Taekwoon asked. “I'm right here.” He reached over the bed and enveloped Hongbin into his arms. He was small and he was thin, he smelled of lilacs and musk. Taekwoon told him all of this as he kissed Hongbin's neck, nosing against the beat of his pulse.

“It's a different kind of loneliness,” Hongbin said. He allowed Taekwoon to sweep him into his arms, his large body able to swallow Hongbin whole. They lay this way, both of them staring out over the sea where the buoys bobbed lethargically and the stars burned like pinpoints of light far beneath the water's surface.

“Don't you feel it?” Hongbin peered over his shoulder and into Taekwoon's pleading eyes. He wanted so desperately to know what was happening and his face brimmed with inquiry. “We've been together so long, you must feel it.”

“First you have to tell me what you're talking about.”

“I don't really know.” Hongbin looked away. “I wish I did, but I don't. I would tell you if I could.”

A long silence ensued and the two of them continued to lie in their very still, very warm bedroom where the curtains billowed against the lukewarm wind that smelled of mackerel and of squid, of the damp sand by the coastline.

Very softly, Taekwoon whispered against the shell of Hongbin's ear: “You do still love me, don't you?”

“I do.”

“And you are not unhappy with me?”

“No, I'm happy.”

“But you're lonely.”

It was not a question and so Hongbin did not answer. He closed his eyes as the lighthouse searched and invaded their room once again and felt the brush of Taekwoon's lips against the softness of his neck and then his cheek. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply and allowed Taekwoon to touch him low on his belly and then between his legs where Hongbin stirred lightly, his body aflame all at once.

He whispered Taekwoon's name as he turned on his back and let himself be devoured. Sweat formed on his brow, his hair lay limp and lifeless and as the heat rose and the bed creaked, as the room was filled once more with light and Taekwoon lay against him solid and very real, Hongbin felt his heart begin to beat steadily. This lasted but a moment, and then the loneliness settled in once again.

“I won't be able to sleep until we figure out what is bothering you.”

A week had passed. Summer had started to unfurl like cloudbursts in the spring; heat rose from the earth in great torrents that left the world breathless. Hongbin leaned over the balcony rail and looked down onto the cobbled road below, a cigarette dangling from the edge of his fine mouth. The wind blew warm against his face, scalding him and making him bristle.

He said, “I think it's passed. You don't need to worry.”

“No, it hasn't. I can see it in your eyes.” Taekwoon took Hongbin's face between his palms and pressed a kiss to his brow. “I won't sleep until you're happy.”

“I'm happy.”

“Not happy enough.”

“You will have to sleep eventually.” Hongbin ashed the cigarette into the damp soil of a houseplant. The fishing boats had sailed out before dawn and the bellow of their horns could be heard from afar. The markets had opened and the crisp sea air smelled of freshly caught fish, of fried foods that made Hongbin's stomach clench.

“I'm hungry,” he said. “Let's get breakfast.”

They went to a cafe only a block away and in the cool air conditioned dining room they shared a meal of poached eggs, of steamed milk and black tea. Taekwoon ordered a blackened bass and split it evenly among their plates, cutting precisely so that none of the meat would be lost. It was in this moment as Hongbin watched Taekwoon's refined fingers toy with utensils, with the cloth napkins so neatly folded across the table, that he wondered what it would be like to be touched by roughened hands. A worker's hands. He wished very much in the silence of his own head that Taekwoon's touch was a little harder, something to yearn for in a much deeper and darker way than what was normal.

“You're thinking of something,” Taekwoon accused.

“It's nothing.”

Ashamed at once, Hongbin looked out toward the street beyond the cafe. The city in which they lived was much older than any other city he had lived in before. The buildings leered and crumbled, the cobbles lay uneven; many people biked and it was not often one spotted a car this close to the sea. From the cafe window he could see down to the shore where the pier stretched thin out into the abysmal blue. There was a boat tied up to the pier that bobbled along the surface, young men by the shore with fishing lines cast out.

“I think I'm bored,” Hongbin said at last. “Tired and bored. All we ever do is stay home, locked in the apartment.”

“I thought you loved the apartment.”

“I do. But don't you get tired of being inside all the time? You sit at your desk and you write your books, but what do I do?” He drank his tea and finished it in a two long swallows. He called for the busboy and requested a chilled bottle of white wine.

“Let's go down to the shore,” he said when the busboy returned with the wine. “We can watch the fishermen in their boats.”

Taekwoon laughed tenderly, wrinkles formed by his eyes and Hongbin could not remember the last time he laughed this way. Something gushed inside him, a fluttering of love so deep in his belly it rendered him motionless for one prolonged minute.

“Is that really what you want to do?” Taekwoon wondered. Then he said, still smiling: “I'll finish eating first and then meet you there. By the shore? Where the boats return?”

“Yes, there. Don't take too long.”

Hongbin kissed Taekwoon on his temple and felt the ticking of his pulse like the beating wings of a butterfly against his mouth. He lingered for only a second and then collected his things and left the cafe.

It had been a hot morning and was becoming a hot afternoon as time waned and the day grew brighter. The sun settled overhead ivory white and blistering. It burned through the cotton of Hongbin's shirtsleeves. He baked as he walked, feeling silly for leaving so suddenly when he still felt hungry. So he stopped by a market tent along the way and bought a loaf of bread and cold chicken wrapped in wax paper. With his wine and his arms full of food, Hongbin sat on the coastline and watched the fishermen on the pier. The boats were too far to see. They rippled like mirages lost at sea; seraphs along the horizon, sirens in the fog. He opened the wine and savored the cool feeling as it splashed into his empty stomach, leaving a line of cold all along his nerves.

He sat and he drank and he ate the food he had bought and it wasn't long until the wine reached his head and Hongbin began to drowse. He took off his shirt and then lay on his stomach in the cool sand and watched as a fishing boat came into view. It blurred with the horizon as the water glittered under the bleached sunlight, and then very suddenly it was at the pier. It was a small boat, something privately owned and hand-painted. An elderly man came off the stern dragging a bucket of fish behind him. It was not this man that was of particular interest, but the boy that followed him. He was not much a boy at all, for he couldn't be much younger than Hongbin himself, but his face was unmarred and tanned, smooth as velvet and very obviously unaged. He carried a large basket over his head, his bare arms straining beneath its weight. He moved unhurriedly as if he had all the time in the world.

It was as the boy dropped the basket onto the pier and tied the fishing boat to a post that the wind blew a cloud across the sun and the world dimmed for a very short moment, but it was this moment that Hongbin felt his heart grow heavy as if threatening to burst inside him.

This boy was beautiful—more than beautiful. He left Hongbin breathless as the swarming heat. The wine within his head dispersed into smoke that made him light as if floating and as he watched the boy leave the pier with his basket overhead and the lines of his body agile against the ebbing sea, Hongbin's heart lurched forward. He felt as if he had collapsed into a dream and as he lay on the cool sand with the sun beating down on the back of his neck, he wished dearly that the boy would look across the shore and see him there and find himself just as breathless.

Many a night Hongbin would wait on the apartment balcony set so high above the city feeling like the gulls that flocked above the winds and he would watch the fishermen tie up their boats come dusk. They would wrangle live fish from the coastline as fog horns bellowed deep as thunder and the lighthouse flared in the growing dark. But in all the time Hongbin had stood on the balcony and watched the sea he had never seen this particular boat or the boy who docked it. He had never seen the old man who was dragging the fish along the shore as the boy followed him closely and the surf lapped at their feet.

The wind blew and the sand rustled beneath him. It stuck to his chest and coated his arms like tarmac. He sat up and collected his things: the wine, the food, his shirt that lay rumpled in the sand and then he rose to his feet and he clothed himself. He left the food in a shaded area away from the gulls and the rising tide and followed the surf down into the sea where the boy had stopped to brush sweat out of his eyes. He was unboxing a cigarette and Hongbin very kindly, very softly asked him: “Could I have one of those?”

The boy turned his gaze unto Hongbin and as his dark eyes found Hongbin's own the sea thrashed wildly with coming storm. There was nothing but the sound of the waves, the brush of wind against Hongbin's sweating nape. The air rustled the boy's hair and pushed it away from his brow, further revealing a handsome face striking as it was beautiful.

“You wouldn't happen to have a match, would you?” he asked.

Hongbin had a book of matches in the pocket of his slacks as well as an uncut cigar. He had taken it from the bar before leaving the cafe with hopes of sharing it with Taekwoon later in the evening and as he rummaged in his pocket he was wary of the cigar, for fear of the boy catching sight of it. Perhaps if he saw it, he would deny Hongbin the cigarette already offered him.

“We can't light a match out here,” Hongbin said. “It's too windy.” A gust of wind came off the sea and the boy teetered against it.

He pointed to a shack by the shore without speaking a word and Hongbin followed him to the shack where the fishermen kept their tools. Rods hung by pegs on the walls and fishing wire lay out on sanded tables. There were baskets that smelled of bass and dead crayfish lay in the corners of the sand clouted floors. Hongbin struck the match in the damp coolness of the shack and the flame flared orange across the boy's face. He burned like a flower under summer light and Hongbin's heart lurched painfully once more; it was a heavy feeling as his heart slowly trickled down into his stomach where it lay like an anvil among the wine and all his nerves.

“I don't think I've ever seen you before,” Hongbin said as he smoked the cigarette. “I think I would have remembered if I had.”

“Do you remember everyone you see?” the boy asked.

“Not really. But I would have remembered you.”

He blushed a brilliant shade of red, beautiful even in the dark. “I'm here for the summer to help my father on his boat. I'm staying until university begins in the autumn.”

A fisherman's son. So fitting, Hongbin thought, in a city by the sea. A silence fell that they shared as they smoked in the small confinement of the shack. Hongbin believed they would have stayed in the silence forever had the heat not settled in around them and forced them out into the windy afternoon.

“I'm Sanghyuk,” the boy said. “You live around here?”

“Yes. In an apartment in town.” The only apartment building, he realized, in all of the city. “Maybe you've seen the building?”

“I might have. But I could be wrong.”

“Well.” Hongbin looked out toward the water as his heart hammered away inside him. He felt light on his feet and terribly ill with nerves. He no longer wanted the cigarette but did not want to waste it for Sanghyuk had given it to him. He looked over his shoulder and up toward the road and found Taekwoon there, shielding his eyes against the glare of the water and the fiery sun. He looked alight like a saint, like treasure gleaming by the roadside; dressed warmly in a suit jacket brazen against the sun.

Hongbin waved to him. Taekwoon waved back.

“Maybe I'll see you again,” Hongbin told Sanghyuk and thanked him for the cigarette. It was only as he started to walk away that Sanghyuk called to him and told him that he hadn't caught his name.

“Who are you?” he wanted to know.

So Hongbin told him.

Once they returned to the apartment that overlooked the sea smelling of sand and salt and mannish with sweat, Hongbin tore off his shirt that clung to him with perspiration and leaned over Taekwoon who sat on the sofa with a book across his lap. He kissed Taekwoon fully on the lips with a fervor that gripped them both.

“What's gotten into you?” Taekwoon laughed. It was a humble and handsome laugh that rumbled in his chest much deeper than his voice. Hongbin felt himself fill with the hum of Taekwoon's laughter and shivered against him.

“Who was that you were talking to on the beach?” Taekwoon wondered, but he could barely find room to speak for Hongbin kissed him and kissed him and would not stop. “Tell me.”

“Just a boy.”

“Is he a nice boy?”

“I don't know yet.” Hongbin nosed at the column of Taekwoon's neck. He felt the spike of his pulse against his mouth and bit him gently through the cloth covering his shoulder. “I'll have to talk to him again to decide.”

“Will you talk to him again?”

“Yes.” Hongbin pulled back and asked very seriously, very lowly so that his voice was much deeper than what was normal and he watched the color flood Taekwoon's face as it always did when Hongbin spoke so lowly, “Does that bother you?”

“No. Why would it?” He took Hongbin's face within his hands and pressed a kiss to the top of his nose. “Should I be bothered?”

“Not at all.”

“He was a handsome boy,” Taekwoon said.

“You thought so?”

“You didn't?”

“I did.” Hongbin pressed his cheek against Taekwoon's cheek and breathed deeply with their bodies close. He inhaled the scent of his cologne and the bitter smell of coffee that lingered on him like perfume.

“Take me to bed,” he said.

“It's the middle of the day,” Taekwoon told him.

“Do it anyway.”

They lay in the bleached light of the bedroom as the heat filled the room and made it stifling. Hongbin was sweating before Taekwoon ever touched him but as large hands roamed his body, a gentle touch he knew very well, he keened as his belly knotted full and bowed beneath Taekwoon's hands. His skin rippled and his heart grew heavy. He wrapped his bare legs around the thin bones of Taekwoon's hips as their skin brushed and touched and grew damp in the rising heat.

Outside the window the waves crashed and the wind blew and the market was alive with shoppers. Conversation lulled and was carried on the wind and swarmed the bedroom like white noise as Hongbin opened up and allowed Taekwoon to pull him apart and make him whole again.

He went down to the beach the very next morning before the sun began to rise. He left Taekwoon sleeping for he seemed to be sleeping well and left him a note on his writing desk that he would be back before lunch. The air was still cool and the sand was cold beneath his bare feet as Hongbin stood by the shore and watched the fishermen mount their boats and drift out along the breeze. There was a cigarette in his mouth and another behind his ear and he sipped hot tea from a thermos he had bought and filled at the cafe as it had started to open and Hongbin waited as the sun peeked over the eastern sky and colored the lapping waves a deep orange.

The morning had settled over the sea before Sanghyuk merged from the coastline, familiar only by the brawny weight of his walk. He carried an empty basket at his side and a fishing pole in his hand. He was tanned and he was beautiful in a pair of sun bleached trousers that frayed at the seams.

“You're up very early,” he said as Hongbin approached him. He showed neither sign of joy nor confusion at Hongbin's appearance. He showed nothing at all. “What are you doing here, anyway? Are you going out to fish?”

“No. I came to pay you back.” He offered the cigarette tucked behind his ear and was pleased when Sanghyuk's face lit up considerably.

“You came all the way here in the early morning to give me a smoke?” He smiled and it was a handsome smile that Hongbin felt himself grow weak for.

It was a very still morning and the water stretched out as flat as a blanket and they lit their cigarettes by the shore as the boats sounded their trumpeting horns; they had all set out for their daily catch.

“Have you lived here long?” Sanghyuk asked. Hongbin gave him an affirming nod and so he wondered: “For how long?”

“A year. Maybe two. I can't remember. It feels like a long time.”

“What do you do here then, since you've been here for so long?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing?” laughed Sanghyuk.

“No,” Hongbin said, enjoying the sound of his laughter. “I don't fish and I can't swim, so I do neither of those things. But I like the sea and the way the water sounds at night.” He breathed in the warm scent of the water and the cigarette smoke and he told Sanghyuk: “My boyfriend is a writer and I think he gets his inspiration from the water, so we've stayed here longer than we've stayed anywhere else and I think we'll stay here for a while longer too.”

“Your boyfriend,” Sanghyuk said. It was a not a question but rather a statement. He repeated what he heard and said it lowly as if it bothered him to find out such a thing. The idea that perhaps it did bother him brought a stinging joy to the very center of Hongbin's heart. “What does he write?”

“Novels.”

“What kind of novels?”

“Romantic ones. He's a very romantic person.”

Sanghyuk smiled and Hongbin wanted to know what he was smiling for. It was a brilliant smile that wrinkled his eyes and made him appear very young. He looked out over the water as his father came from the shack where the baskets were kept and the fishing wire lay out over the tables and he said good morning to his father and then turned back to Hongbin and said, “I'll be going now.”

Hongbin watched as Sanghyuk walked down the pier towering over his father who hobbled very slowly with a slightly hunched back. He looked supremely tall as he stepped onto the boat. It wavered beneath his weight and then he was gone, lost in the underbelly of the boat and out of sight. Hongbin waited on the shore as the waves touched his bare feet and the boat began to float away and he watched it go until he could no longer see it, his heart racing with curiosity and his head light as if it had been filled with air.

It was only after he was left alone on the stretch of beach that Hongbin turned back toward the city and ran up the hill to the cobbled road. He ran back to the apartment, feeling as if he was soaring through the sleeping city all alone in a world too beautiful to taint, and he darted up the stairs and into the apartment where Taekwoon was still sleeping soundly. The heat of the morning had yet to touch the bedroom and it lay open and cool as Hongbin jumped onto the bed and roused Taekwoon with a sloppy, heart rendering kiss.

“Good morning,” Taekwoon murmured. His voice was deep and crackled as he spoke and he looked up at Hongbin not at all surprised by his burst of affection. “You're up early.”

“Very early.” He laid head against Taekwoon's chest and listened to his heart gain consciousness. “Wake up now, because I have something to tell you.”

“I'm already awake. Tell me.”

“No. You have to be more awake, wide awake.” He pressed his face into the warmth of Taekwoon's chest and breathed him in. “I don't want you to take it the wrong way. You will if you're not really awake. So wake up and let's have something to eat and then I'll tell you.”

Taekwoon lifted Hongbin's face and looked him in the eye. His gaze was gentle and his voice was soft as he asked, “What have you done now?”

“I've done nothing at all.” But he grinned and he knew by the way Taekwoon watched him that he didn't believe him. Hongbin buried his face into Taekwoon's neck and bit him kindly. “I really haven't. Not yet. So wake up and have breakfast with me and then I'll tell you.”

He jumped from the bed before Taekwoon could pin him down and went to the kitchen to boil water for tea. They drank on the terrace as they shared cigarettes and Taekwoon watched Hongbin keenly as if he thought if he watched him enough, he would then in some miraculous way be able to peer into his head and find what it was he was thinking.

Breakfast was toast and soft boiled eggs with garlic olives and crayfish. They ate in pleasant silence as the markets began to open and the city came alive and the heat settled over them like soot. Taekwoon touched Hongbin beneath the table and told him, “I'm awake now.”

“You are,” Hongbin smiled. “But tell me, are you going to lose your head?”

“Have you done something bad?”

“No, nothing bad.” Then, quizzically, he wondered: “What if I had? Would you lose your head then?”

It seemed to take a very long time for Taekwoon to think up an answer. He stared at the table and then stared into his lap. He finally decided, “No, I don't think so. But I hope you haven't done anything bad.”

“There's a boy.”

“The fisherman boy,” Taekwoon said at once. “The one on the beach.”

“Yes, him. I went and saw him again this morning. I smoked with him and I talked to him, and I think he's really nice.”

Taekwoon's face filled with color as he looked out the terrace window and watched the gulls overhead. He did not speak for a very long time and Hongbin feared in the growing silence that it was anger that was building up inside him. But then all at once Taekwoon shivered and he asked in a soft, far away voice that broke Hongbin's heart: “Do you still love me?”

Hongbin grabbed Taekwoon's hand and stood up and pulled Taekwoon to his feet. He felt hot all over with guilt and shame and growing affection that bubbled up inside him almost violently. He wrapped his arms around Taekwoon's shoulders and told him quietly, “Of course I love you, I love you more than anything. It isn't that I don't love you. Come here,” he said. “Come with me.”

He pulled Taekwoon into the bedroom where the walls burned bright green beneath the sunlight and dropped him into bed where he first lay on his side like a man wounded. But with a little help and a little persistence, Hongbin rolled Taekwoon onto his back and crawled on top of him with his legs apart and his heart beating wildly.

“Look at me.” He grabbed Taekwoon's hands and placed them on his body. “Don't ignore me. I love you. You believe me, don't you?” He lowered himself and kissed a stream up Taekwoon's throat, over his mouth that was slack and warm and swollen. “You said you wouldn't lose your head.”

“I have my head,” Taekwoon mumbled. He looked up at the ceiling where the sunlight streamed dreamy as dayglow and wrapped his arms around Hongbin's middle, holding him tightly. In a single swift motion, Taekwoon rolled Hongbin onto his back, pinning him between the mattress and himself.

He said, “Do you love him?”

“Of course I don't.” Hongbin brushed the hair out of Taekwoon's eyes. “I don't know him. But I want to know him and I want you to know him too. I want to take you with me to meet him.”

“Why do I have to know him?”

“Because you will like him just as much as I do.”

“Is that what you want?” Taekwoon asked, very seriously. He pressed his face into the crook of Hongbin's neck, breathing deeply, breathing warm. His mouth was wet against Hongbin's skin.

“Think about it,” Hongbin said. “Really think about it. He's a handsome boy and he's very nice and if you like him as much as I think you will, and if he likes you too, wouldn't that be nice? To have him over and to talk with him?”

“What would we talk about?”

“Anything. Everything! It would be like falling in love all over again. He would read your books and he would listen to you when you speak and he would be interested and he would learn everything about you the way that I did when I first met you.” Hongbin threaded his fingers through the back of Taekwoon's hair and brushed his nails over the nape of his neck where his skin was damp. He saw when the shivers touched Taekwoon's spine for his eyes fluttered shut and his mouth twitched into a dreamy smile.

“He would fall in love with you the way that I did,” Hongbin whispered. “Wouldn't that be fun?”

“And what about you? Why is this suddenly about me?”

“Because I want to convince you, because I think it's all true.” Hongbin pushed his hands up the back of Taekwoon's shirt and ran his nails over the knobs of his spine. “He's a fisherman's son. He can teach me about the water and we can learn how to fish and we can spend all summer learning everything about him. Spending time with him would be enough, don't you think? We can invite him into our lives.”

“And what else?” Taekwoon asked. He placed a hand on Hongbin's thigh and pressed the tips of his fingers against the seams of his jeans. “What else would he learn about us?”

“Everything you're willing to share.”

“This is what you want?”

“Yes. I want it very much.”

“You want him.”

Hongbin licked his lips and faltered for only a moment. “Yes.”

“Then I won't interfere.”

Taekwoon rose off the bed and walked into the living room where his books lay disheveled across the dining table, on the arm rests of the sofa. He collapsed in a huff of breath with his head craned back and his eyes closed.

“But will you meet him?” Hongbin asked.

“Only if I want to and only after you learn more about him.”

Hongbin sat beside Taekwoon on the sofa with his head against his shoulder and his legs curled up close to his body. “I'll go to the beach again tonight and maybe I'll see him.”

“And what will you say to him?”

“I don't know. Nothing. I'll invite him to dinner.”

“I won't go.”

“No.” Hongbin kissed Taekwoon's cheek and pressed his nose against his face. “You won't go this time, but eventually you'll go.”

“We'll see.”

“I would like you to go.”

Taekwoon kissed Hongbin between the eyes. “Let's talk about something else now.”

“What would you like to talk about?”

“Why don't we go out?” he asked. “We can walk around the city. It's been a long time since we've done that. Then we can buy a bottle of wine and go down to the cove and we can lie around until dinner time.”

“Then you will meet him?”

“No. I will leave you to find him.”

They collected a blanket and a small towel and stepped into their shoes by the front door. They took the stairs slowly, one at a time, with their fingers threaded together and when they stepped out onto the sun bleached sidewalk Hongbin shifted so that he was pressed into Taekwoon's side with Taekwoon's arm around his shoulders.

“It's a nice day,” Hongbin said. He watched a man pass by on a tandem bicycle; it was rather funny to see the empty seat behind him. He wanted very much to tell Taekwoon they should do something funny like that: buy a tandem bicycle and ride it down to the beach.

“It's too hot,” Taekwoon said. “But, yes, it's nice.” He stopped to kiss the pulsing temple of Hongbin's forehead. “I'll be right back.”

He slipped into the air conditioned dark of a winery to pick up a bottle of Sauvignon. He took a very long time and as Hongbin waited beside the road, he smoked a cigarette, all the time watching the beach and the crashing of the waves down by the pier where the boats had been tied up long before morning but where they no longer were now. It was empty and lonely. The sea ebbed quietly and the bass jumped above the surface; miniature tycoons played by the coastline and Hongbin wished to see the vague familiarity of Sanghyuk's boat, to find him there among the sun-warmed sand and the jumping bass so that he may introduce Taekwoon to him. But the boat never came and Taekwoon took a very long time more.

“They were out of Sauvignon, if you can believe that,” Taekwoon said. His face was pinched and irritated and his cheeks blotched with color. Hongbin didn't care much for the wine and so he didn't particularly care what flavor it was Taekwoon had settled on, and as they stood by the roadside and the hot wind began to blow and Taekwoon's long hair rustled against the current of wind, Hongbin forgot everything momentarily. He forgot the wine and the heat and the promise of company later tonight for Taekwoon was striking as he stood beneath the hot rays of the sun, the top button of his lilac shirt undone so that the collar was pulled open. Hongbin could see the lines of his muscles and the sharp angle of his collarbones. He could see where a small bruise purpled on his china white skin and thought of the many times he had kissed Taekwoon in that very spot and bitten at him until he whined; he bruised so easily.

“What are you thinking of now?” Taekwoon wondered.

“Thinking of you.” Hongbin took the wine between his hands and linked his arm through Taekwoon's own so that as they walked their elbows were linked together like children on a playground, like lovers of the lost generation; he felt very fine and very happy as they walked down to the beach. It was a quiet afternoon and the sun burned brightly. The beach was empty and lay open as a rug.

They followed the coastline down to the cove where the water burbled and thrashed against large rocks the color of bark. Hongbin kicked off his shoes by the edge of the sand and toed at the water as the surf blew in and the salt spray of the sea peppered his face. He smiled as Taekwoon enveloped him into his arms; tall and sturdy behind him. They took in the water and watched the fish and listened to the cry of the gulls as they dived overhead and the bellowing of the boat horns. Then they went into the shade and sat upon the dark rocks that lined the inlet of water.

“When will you be finished writing?” Hongbin asked.

“Soon. Maybe in a week.”

“Will you have it published this time?”

“I might.”

“I think you should.” Hongbin placed a foot into the water and kicked small waves in the steadying surface. Water flecked and speckled the cuffs of Taekwoon's pants. “It's been a long time since you've published anything. So you should publish this one, and it will do well. I know it.”

“You haven't read it yet,” Taekwoon smiled. “How do you know?”

“Because everything you write does well and everyone loves it. This one won't be any different.”

“Then I'll have it published.” Taekwoon uncorked the wine and sipped from the bottle.

“Will you dedicate it to me?”

“If that's what you want.” He drank again from the bottle and gave it to Hongbin who struggled to hold it between his hands. “Be careful,” he said. “After this one, all my books will be dedicated to you.”

“There are a couple that aren't,” Hongbin teased.

“I'll go back and edit them and then dedicate them to you.”

“That's cheating.”

“It's not,” Taekwoon laughed. “No one will know but us.”

They drank the wine as the wind blew cloud into the sky and the once clear blue sky filled with white that skirted and covered the sun. The shade befell them and as the air turned humid and the sea rose in the inlet, Taekwoon went into the water that came up to his waist and pulled Hongbin from the rocks and into the water beside him.

Taekwoon kissed him on the mouth with his tongue tasting of wine and his lips wet and salty from the cool air and as Hongbin took Taekwoon's face between his hands his heart began to tremble and his knees felt terribly weak. He kissed Taekwoon with a growing fervor as the water lapped at his waist and cooled his heated skin. He allowed Taekwoon to push his hands up the back of his shirt and to pull it off his body entirely and as he stood beneath the shaded sun with his skin exposed and damp Hongbin put his arms around Taekwoon's shoulders and let himself be pulled by the current out into the shallow waters.

Taekwoon wrestled with the buttons of his lilac shirt that was now soaked through and through and clung to him like cellophane. He wrapped the shirt around the bottle of wine and left it on the dark colored rocks where they had sat before and as he guided Hongbin out into the water, his hand kept as a searing weight in the middle of Hongbin's narrow back, he put his hands on Hongbin's body and urged him closer with an open-mouthed kiss that was deep and lovely and sprouted warmth in the pit of Hongbin's stomach.

He keened and he whined and he wrapped his legs around Taekwoon's waist, weightless by the water; he felt his blood spike cold. Because they were alone in the cove with nothing but the silence and the water and their panting breaths Hongbin wrapped his arms around Taekwoon's neck and kissed him with his tongue in his mouth. He moaned against him and writhed beneath the water but was unable to feel anything but the faint press of Taekwoon's body against him.

“Hold your breath,” Taekwoon instructed.

Hongbin clung tightly to the wide berth of Taekwoon's shoulders. He knew what was to come. He held his breath and closed his eyes and waited for the salt water to wash over him and when it did, he felt his body grow limp as Taekwoon pulled him deeper and then deeper into the water and kissed him with bubbles forming as he exhaled. It was impossible to kiss properly. There was too much water pounding his ears and he knew very well what would happen if he opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, and so they floated beneath the surface this way: with their mouths together and their eyes closed and with the warmth of the summer sun bleeding through the water and into their bones. Hongbin became weightless once again and allowed the salt water the buoy him up and into the warm air and as he came up and breathed in a mouthful, Taekwoon pushed the hair out of his eyes and kissed him again, deeply, with his heart racing and his lungs breathless.

“I love you,” Taekwoon whispered against the shell of Hongbin's ear. I love you I love you I love you—endlessly. Their chests were wet and sticky and their skin clung together as the water washed over them and the waves began to unfurl and Hongbin leaned forward in the water until his chin rested against Taekwoon's shoulder. He could feel Taekwoon's heart beating through the concavity of his chest.

“I love you,” he said in return, looking out into the limitless sea.

They had swam until they were tired with hunger and ate lunch at the cafe below their apartment building. They drank too much wine and grew heavy with exhaustion and fell asleep on the sofa with the terrace windows open and the hot air seeping through the apartment. Hongbin woke sweating and more tired than he had been before. It was almost dinnertime and his body ached to be put to bed. Taekwoon was sleeping beautifully; his eyelashes lay across his cheeks as fine as feathers and his hair was stiff with salt but smelled wonderful as Hongbin leaned against him and kissed his forehead.

“I'm going to shower and then I'm going to the beach,” Hongbin whispered. “If you get dinner without me, that's alright. But if you decide not to, I will bring you something later if you want me to.”

Taekwoon stirred gently. He reached blindly for Hongbin and held his small face between his hands. His mouth was swollen and his cheeks the color of rose petals; he breathed out of his nose as Hongbin pressed their cheeks together and breathed against his ear.

He said, “I won't be too late. I won't leave you here by yourself for so long.”

Taekwoon said nothing but made a noise that settled the flutters in Hongbin's stomach; it was a sound of acceptance. One of reassurance. Hongbin kissed the corner of Taekwoon's mouth and went to shower.

The sun hung bloated in the sky well into the evening and although it was fairly early, Hongbin feared he had missed the arrival of the boats. He looked up and down the pier, desperate to find the hand-painted boat that belonged to Sanghyuk's father and it was a while longer before he believed that they had not yet come to harbor. His heart soared with anticipation.

He waited and the sun began to dim; the water glowed orange beneath its setting light and his head grew tired. He was hungry and he wished to be home with Taekwoon, but he wished even more to have Sanghyuk beside him when he went. He lay on the beach with his hands buried in the sand and his shoes discarded by the edge of the cobbled road where the weeds grew fervent and tall and he waited and waited until finally, he saw: the mast of the boat coming to the pier.

It was hard to feign disinterest and to pretend that he had not been waiting all this time as Sanghyuk came up the coastline with a bucket of fish above his head. He spotted Hongbin at once and though he was far out by the water, Hongbin could see the smile that took him by storm. It was a lovely smile. So bright and large just like him.

“You're back again,” Sanghyuk grinned. “Have you brought another cigarette?”

If it was a joke, Hongbin took it too seriously. He pulled his pack of cigarettes from his pocket and lit two at once, festering with excitement as Sanghyuk fingers brushed his own. His skin was calloused and rough; he glowed beneath the setting of the sun and looked more beautiful than any painting Hongbin could ever remember seeing. He was striking.

“I wanted to ask you to dinner,” Hongbin said.

“Me and you? What would your boyfriend think?”

“He said he doesn't mind.”

“You asked him?”

“Well, yes. Isn't that the right thing to do?”

Sanghyuk looked on, mesmerized by this information. His eyes were brightly lit and his hands were steady as he smoked; so well put together as Hongbin floundered and floated away. He wished to reach out and touch Sanghyuk's hands again and to feel the roughness of them against his body.

“Will you come with me?” Hongbin asked.

“Where do you want to go? Tell me and I'll meet you there.” Sanghyuk threw his cigarette into the sand and stepped on it. “I have to shower. I'm a mess and I smell like saltwater. Will you wait?”

“I'll wait.” Hongbin chewed his lower lip as he suddenly felt overcome by timidity. “There's a cafe below the apartments where I live. They're called The Brownstone Apartments and they overlook the pier, just over there.” He pointed into the distance where the tall apartment building stood and he could see his room by the sea lit by sallow light. He wondered momentarily if Taekwoon was eating alone. If he was working on his novel. What was he doing? It was not often Hongbin was away from him.

“I'll meet you there as soon as I can,” Sanghyuk promised. He lingered for a very long minute and then burrowed his hands into the deep pockets of his jeans and meandered the beach into the dark where single-level houses perched near the sand. It was where the fishermen lived. Hongbin watched him go, his heart alight with flutters and then bound for the cobbled road.

Taekwoon was awake and he was writing and the door to his study was closed but Hongbin lingered beside it. He knocked twice, very lightly, unsure if he wanted to be heard for he hated to interrupt.

He whispered through the door, “I'm to meet him in a little bit. He's gone to get ready.”

The door opened. Taekwoon stood with his hair freshly washed and framing his face. He looked beautiful in his striped night shirt, the collar opened wide and brushing the edge of his shoulder.

They looked at each other in silence. It swelled and became weighty and Hongbin feared being crushed beneath it. He whined, “Won't you come?”

“Not yet.”

“I do love you, you know that, don't you?”

Taekwoon touched Hongbin's soft cheek. “I know. Don't worry. But don't think of me tonight when you're with him. Can you promise that? I don't like to think that you will be with him just to think of me.”

“I won't.”

“And if you kiss him, don't think of me either.”

Hongbin blushed fiercely. He looked out the terrace window into the swarming night and felt his blood pulse deeply in his temples. “I won't.” It excited him to think that perhaps he would kiss Sanghyuk. He would kiss him deeply and with passion. He would touch his hair and his face and he would feel Sanghyuk's hands on his body and grow weak.

Taekwoon kissed the bridge of Hongbin's nose. “Don't be gone too late either.”

“I'll try not to be. But I'll be just downstairs if you become curious.”

“Now I'll think of you all night down there with him.”

“Does it excite you?”

Taekwoon smiled. “A little.”

Hongbin kissed Taekwoon's mouth and promised that he would not think of him if he kissed Sanghyuk and he would not think of him as they ate together; he would do nothing of the sort, but he would come home to him soon.

“If I'm late,” Hongbin said, “don't wait up for me.”

“I will. You know I will.”

“Of course you will,” he laughed. “Just don't try to if you're tired.”

He left then with his heart in his mouth and his palms on fire as he descended the stairs onto the cobbled road where the cafe stood lit by the moon and smelling of lush wine, of frying fish and fresh produce. He took a table by the window where he and Taekwoon never sat and waited for the boy from the beach to accompany him.

It was very late when Sanghyuk came up the road and to the cafe. He wore pressed trousers and his hair parted to the side. He looked lovely and lovelier still as he stood beneath the bright lights of the cafe with his hands in his pockets and his eyes skirting the room in search of Hongbin.

“Sorry,” he said once Hongbin waved him close. They sat across each other, a bottle of wine uncorked in the center of the table. “Since we had just come back, my father needed help unloading all the fish and preserving it for the market tomorrow.”

“You don't have to apologize,” Hongbin said very kindly. “I'm just glad you came at all.”

“Of course I came.” Sanghyuk looked down at the menu. “Did you order already?”

“No. Let's order now.”

But Sanghyuk didn't know what to order and so Hongbin ordered for him. They shared a plate of shrimp and baby octopus and crab stew and Hongbin ordered another bottle of wine for he had drank half of the first bottle and felt bad about it. But after he poured Sanghyuk a glass he watched, perplexed, as Sanghyuk drank it down in a few gulps.

“Why did you do that?” he asked.

Sanghyuk shrugged. He smiled, smitten, and said: “It's a habit. I don't drink, not really. But when I do I hate to sip on it.”

“Well, you pour your own then. When you want it.” He would hate to render Sanghyuk impaired so quickly.

As he drank his own glass and sipped lightly and ate the crab meat, he asked Sanghyuk how had the fishing gone this morning and what was it that he and his father did when they weren't on the water? He listened, enthralled, to the way Sanghyuk spoke of squid fishing and baiting; he had been making lures since he was a child and it had become a hobby in recent years. And as he spoke, he spoke with his hands and with a wide grin enveloping his face. He spoke loudly with enthusiasm and Hongbin thought of how different he was from Taekwoon. He was bold where Taekwoon was quiet and he spoke in great lengths of his father who had lived alone on the beach since his marriage had failed, and he talked of being in the open waters, of the wind on the sea and the cool summer mornings and how his hands never seemed to stop smelling of salt. He was passionate as Taekwoon, but somehow so different.

“What is it?” Sanghyuk asked. He spoke suddenly and startled Hongbin, smiling as he noticed this. “Am I boring you?”

“No, 'course not.”

“We can talk about something else. What are you thinking of?”

“Nothing.”

“You're thinking of someone, aren't you? Is it your boyfriend?”

Hongbin looked away. His face filled with color and he felt very shy. “Can you read minds?”

Sanghyuk smiled. “No. A lucky guess.” Beneath the table he tapped his toe to Hongbin's shoe and asked him: “Why are you here with me? I don't really get it.”

“Because I think you're handsome and I want to know you.”

“What about your boyfriend?”

“I told you,” Hongbin said, “he doesn't mind.” He reached over the table and touched the back of Sanghyuk's hand. He was warm and his knuckles were soft. He waited to see if Sanghyuk would offer his hand and when he did, Hongbin's heart soared. “I want him to meet you, but I think he's nervous.”

“How could he be nervous?”

“He has a hard time meeting new people.”

“You said he was a writer.”

“He is.”

“A romantic one.”

Hongbin nodded.

“So he must understand people well if he can write about them.” Sanghyuk placed his hand upon the table with his palm open and as Hongbin placed his own palm within Sanghyuk's, Sanghyuk enclosed his fingers and held Hongbin's hand. His skin felt rougher than Hongbin remembered it to be. It brought heat to his belly.

“He understands people just fine,” Hongbin said. He watched their hands carefully and wondered if Sanghyuk would touch him if he so boldly asked. “I think he's nervous of getting close to them.”

“He's close to you.”

“It took a very long time.” Hongbin looked away from the table and at the bustling bar that sat dozens of men: boatmen, fishermen and their wives, sons beside their fathers with glasses of beer and open plates of oysters. He looked over to the wall of payphones beside the bar, all of them black and shining beneath the bar lights.

“If you're done eating,” Hongbin began, “and you want to meet him, I think you should. He's just upstairs.”

Sanghyuk said nothing for a long time. He looked between Hongbin and the table and their hands, then out the window into the city that shined dull and the sea that was blackened by night.

“You're nervous too,” Hongbin accused.

Sanghyuk nodded faintly.

“You're here with me,” Hongbin told him, “so there must be a reason. Isn't there? You like me, don't you?” He accepted Sanghyuk's silent response; the squeeze of his hand. “Don't think too much. I think you'll like him. He's lovely.”

“What if he doesn't like me?”

“He will.”

Hongbin finished the wine in his glass and rose from the table. His legs felt weak and made of lead. “I have to make a call before we go up.”

Stopping at the row of payphones, he dropped a coin into the slot and dialed the apartment. But no answer came. He hung up and retrieved his coin and tried again. Often Taekwoon would let the phone ring and ring until it drove him crazy enough to answer, but as Hongbin allowed the line to ring and no one answered he began to fret. Had Taekwoon gone to bed? Was he too busy writing to be bothered with the phone? Was he angry or upset or hurt?

It was the third time he dialed the number that the line cut off abruptly and Hongbin turned away from the wall and found himself staring very near into Sanghyuk's face. His hand was on the hook and the button was pressed down. He was watching Hongbin very seriously and when he let the phone fall from his ear and he started to ask, what are you doing? Hongbin was blindsided by the sudden press of Sanghyuk's mouth against his own.

He kissed like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He held Hongbin's face between his hands and pressed him very hard into the wall with his heavy body against him. Hongbin was not used to feeling small. He was not used to his heart racing on fire in the pit of his stomach. He was kissed and he kissed back and he felt breathless as Sanghyuk touched his face and then his neck; his palms were rough and Hongbin's body ached to be touched all over.

Sanghyuk pulled away, breathless and flushed. His cheeks were bright pink and his eyes downcast as if afraid to acknowledge the lustful way Hongbin looked at him.

He said, “I don't think I should meet him yet.”

“But you will? Won't you?”

“If it means I can keep seeing you.”

“Of course,” Hongbin whispered. He kissed the corner of Sanghyuk's mouth. “You can see me all the time.” He kissed his lips and then his cheek. He kissed him until Sanghyuk pushed him against the wall once again and kissed him back. But as quickly as he had come, Sanghyuk began to move away.

“I should go. It's late. I drank too much.”

“You only had one glass.”

“I had another just now. I shouldn't have. I drank it too quickly and now I feel funny.” He brushed his thumb over Hongbin's cheek. “Will you come see me tomorrow?”

“I'll try. But if I can't, meet me at the pier after sundown. I'll be there.”

He followed Sanghyuk from the cafe onto the road outside and kissed him beneath the street lamps that burned very lowly in the night and he pressed his face into Sanghyuk's neck and breathed him in. He smelled like the sea, of wine and cologne and of starched clothes. He smelled as handsome as he was.

Sanghyuk told him goodnight and held Hongbin a moment longer and it was as he was walking down the cobbled road toward the beach that Hongbin turned toward the apartment building and saw Taekwoon on the balcony with a cigarette in his mouth and his eyes burning deeply into Hongbin's upturned face.

They watched one another under the paleness of the moon, neither of them moving as Taekwoon's cigarette burned red in the dark. Then all at once, desire seized up inside of Hongbin and propelled him up the stairs and toward the apartment where the door was unlocked and the windows were open and the rooms smelled of cool sea air.

Taekwoon came in from the terrace and stood in the doorway with the curtains billowing up around him like smoke and he watched Hongbin very carefully as Hongbin crossed the room quickly with his heart aching in his chest and took Taekwoon into his arms and kissed him on the mouth with a passion that hurt them both.

“He's a very nice boy,” Hongbin said. “I want you to meet him tomorrow. I'm to meet him at the beach and I want both of you there so you both will stop being so nervous about each other.”

“He's nervous?”

“Are you surprised?”

Taekwoon smiled. It was more of a smirk and it made Hongbin hot to think Taekwoon liked Sanghyuk to be nervous of him. “Not very.”

“So you'll come tomorrow?”

“I don't think so. Not yet.”

“Isn't there something inside you that wants to meet him? All on your own, without me having to ask?” Hongbin pushed his hands into the back pockets of Taekwoon's jeans and held his body close so Taekwoon could feel the stirring between his legs.

“He's very handsome,” Taekwoon said slowly. He wrapped his arms around Hongbin's back and lifted him slightly onto the toes of his feet. This way he could kiss his neck without craning his head down. “You seem to like him a lot and I think he would be nice company.”

“Would you kiss him?” Hongbin demanded softly. “If I wanted you to, would you?”

“Is that what you really want?”

Hongbin's blood spiked cold as he imagined Sanghyuk's arms around Taekwoon's body. He keened and leaned forward with his mouth open and breathed against the shell of Taekwoon's ear. “I want you to do more than that.”

“That's because you're terrible.” Taekwoon was smiling and it warmed Hongbin's heart. “I'll have to meet him before I kiss him and see if I like him.”

“You'll like him,” Hongbin whispered. He pulled Taekwoon from the doorway into the bedroom where the windows were open and the sheets rustled on the bed. He lay on his back and guided Taekwoon between his legs where his body ached and pulsed. “I think you'll love him, really.”

“You think too much.”

“I know,” Hongbin smiled. “I love to think about you being with him. He's so big, did you see? He's so sweet and handsome and very timid but he's tall and he's bigger than you.”

Taekwoon pressed the heel of his palm between Hongbin's legs and felt his cock straining against the front of his jeans and he panted softly when he asked, “Is that why you like him? Because he's big.”

“No,” Hongbin whispered. He canted his hips into Taekwoon's touch, tingles sprouting in the soles of his feet. “I like him because he's nice but maybe I like him a little because he's big.” His breath hitched as he writhed and Taekwoon's hands began to discard his clothing, throwing them across the floor where books lay open and the blankets were kicked into a bundle.

“I want to see how much bigger he is than you,” Hongbin said. “Because I'm not that big and he is and that way he can take care of you.”

Hongbin lay naked across the bed with his hands above his head and his body taut and long between Taekwoon's hands. He breathed deeply and closed his eyes as Taekwoon pulled him apart and put him back together and as the warmth of Taekwoon's mouth touched the head of his cock and his thighs twitched and his stomach coiled with heat, Hongbin pushed his hands through the back of Taekwoon's long hair and imagined what it would be like to see him, so sturdy and strong and not easily taken apart, weakened in Sanghyuk's arms.

Hongbin woke close to after noon to an empty bed and cold pillows. He found Taekwoon in his writing room where the windows were kept black and the only light came from a small lamp on his desk. It was a lonely room that depressed Hongbin greatly, but as he watched from the doorway silent as night as Taekwoon fumbled over passages and pages and hunted for the container of ink for his fountain pen, Hongbin thought he could never imagine Taekwoon happier than when he was working.

“Do you want to get breakfast with me?” Hongbin asked quietly.

“It's too late for breakfast.”

“Not quite.”

“We'll have lunch in a little bit. Can you wait?”

Hongbin ran his fingers up the door frame and suddenly felt very lonely. “Won't you eat with me now?”

Taekwoon looked over his shoulder. His hair was pulled neatly away from his face. The artificial light hollowed his cheeks and made him quite small; Hongbin breathed sharply.

“You look so handsome, won't you eat with me?” Hongbin said.

“Yes.” Taekwoon turned back to his work. “Yes, alright, Hongbin. Why don't you go get ready and I'll finish up here?”

He didn't want to shower and so wet his hair and washed his face. He looked at himself hard in the bathroom mirror. The sunlight poured golden orange into the bathroom and lit him as if he was on fire. He waited there for a long time, watching himself comb his hair. He changed into a striped shirt that was black and white and a pair of trousers that hung loose off his hips. They could have very well been Taekwoon's pants. It didn't matter very much, but it gave him a thrill to be in them.

“What are you doing?” Taekwoon asked. He came into the bathroom and held Hongbin from behind. He placed his chin over Hongbin's shoulder and kissed his neck. “You wanted to eat, didn't you?”

“Yes, just waiting for you.”

They passed the cafe and stopped at a small restaurant near the beach where they served spicy sausage and Taekwoon could order a coffee. They ate beside one another; Hongbin placing his hand in Taekwoon's lap beneath the table to hold onto his thigh as they ate.

“I want a change,” Taekwoon said. He ordered a second coffee and asked the waitress to bring Hongbin a glass of cold black tea and a wedge of lemon. “I think I'll cut my hair.”

“What, all of it?”

“Yes, I'll cut it short.”

Hongbin balked. “You can't. I love it so much.”

“It'll grow back.”

“But I like it the way it is.”

Taekwoon touched the nape of Hongbin's neck and kissed his temple. Then he poured sugar into his coffee and placed the lemon inside Hongbin's glass of tea. He told him, “It's only hair. I want a change.”

He got it cut very short so that it bristled and felt fuzzy on the sides and as Hongbin threaded his fingers through the fine hair on the top of Taekwoon's head, he felt sad and strange and wished to have his hair long again.

They sat on the terrace and looked out over the road and the setting of the sun and Hongbin dared look over at Taekwoon and demanded, very lightly: “Tell me why you did it. I know why you did it, but tell me why you cut your hair.”

Taekwoon smoked his cigarette in silence. “Because I wanted to.”

It was hard to call him a liar when he was not really lying, but it was far from the truth of what Hongbin knew and so he turned away upset, growing eager. He looked out over the roads and the buildings and toward the sea.

“I bet you've thought about lightening your hair too, haven't you?”

“Briefly.”

“Of course you did.” Hongbin spoke very kindly, very quietly. He didn't want to be angry and he didn't want to be upset. He wanted Taekwoon to not change how he looked so drastically but hadn't any idea how to say it without sounding cold. And so, very slowly, with his eyes on the sea and his heart in his mouth, Hongbin said: “You don't have to look like him. Don't you know that? You don't have to try and be him.”

Taekwoon said nothing at all.

“I love you just the way you are,” Hongbin said. “You're so different than him in every way and it's just the way that I want you, because it's the way that you are and I love you.”

Hongbin touched his eyes and was angered to find that they were damp. Emotion coated him inside and out and as Taekwoon came closer with his new short hair and his breath like smoke against Hongbin's cheek, he apologized and told him that he loved him too—that he only wanted him happy. And it made Hongbin sadder still and his heart surged forward as he reached for Taekwoon.

“Don't change because of him,” Hongbin said. “I don't want you to change. Not even for me. Don't change at all.”

Taekwoon laid his head against the thumping beat of Hongbin's heart and leaned against him as Hongbin wrapped his arms around his shoulders and hugged him to his body.

“I'm sorry,” Taekwoon said, but it was not what Hongbin wanted to hear. It hurt him and he hated it, so he hugged Taekwoon harder to his body and touched the back of his head as he kissed the top of his hair and he murmured sweet nothings to him as the sun fell over the buildings and out of the sky; the sea glowed black under the moonlight.

“You're still handsome,” Hongbin promised as he kissed Taekwoon's mouth on the terrace beneath the moonlight. “I love you just the same, but don't change.”

“I won't.”

“Because if you change, then how will I know that you still love me?”

“I'll always love you.”

Hongbin kissed him again with his body on fire, melting under the weight of Taekwoon's hands. He kissed him until his mouth trembled and his lips felt tired, then he wrapped his arms around Taekwoon's large shoulders and whispered against his mouth: “I'm going to be late.”

“Will you be home early?”

“I'll try to be.” He kissed Taekwoon's cheek, his chin; he pressed a kiss to the bridge of his nose and told him: “It would make me happy if you waited up for me.”

“Then I'll wait,” said Taekwoon.

The sky was dark and the moon was small and the beach was black beneath Hongbin's bare feet as he walked down the long pier toward the end where Sanghyuk waited for him. He looked lovely under the glow of the moon with the water calm and motionless behind his bulking frame; Hongbin saw his face light up and the lift of his eyes as he neared Sanghyuk and felt his own heart begin to thrum heavily between his ribs.

“Hullo,” Sanghyuk smiled.

“Have you been waiting a long time?”

“Not very long.”

“You look nice.”

Sanghyuk looked down at his outfit and shrugged. It was not a response Hongbin expected and it wasn't one he could decipher very well, but he accepted it and smiled and took Sanghyuk's collar between his hands as he leaned up on his toes to kiss him.

“Where's your boyfriend?” Sanghyuk wondered.

“Are you going to ask me this every time you see me? He's back at home. He's tired so he didn't come, but I think later we should go back there and stop in and say hello to him. What do you think?”

“As long as he doesn't kill me.”

Hongbin laughed. He kicked off his shoes and left them on the pier and unbuttoned his shirt to lay it over the railing. “You'll get one good look at him and know he isn't capable of killing anything.”

“What are you doing?”

“I want to swim.”

“You can't swim, didn't you tell me that?”

Hongbin smirked. His eyes brightened and gleamed. “Then you better come with me so I don't drown, hmm?”

The water was warm as a bath against his bare feet. He hadn't taken off his pants but rolled them to his shins so he could stand out in the surf and wait for the water to grow deep around him. Sanghyuk came up behind him then and he had taken off his shirt so that his tan chest was bare against Hongbin's back. He was warm and his heart beat deeply so that Hongbin could feel it; suddenly, he was faint with nerves.

Hongbin reached for Sanghyuk and pulled him farther into the water so that their pants dipped under the surf and came back wringing wet and sopping.

“Maybe you should take those off,” Sanghyuk whispered. Then, he smiled bright and painful: “I don't mean to sound weird or like I want you to take off your pants. But it's hard to swim with them on and you can't swim at all. I don't think it's a good idea.”

“You don't have to lie,” Hongbin teased.

“I'm really not—”

“I'll take them off since that's what you want. Don't be embarrassed.” He didn't want to smile for he liked the way Sanghyuk's ears burned so brightly he could see their color in the dark, but as Sanghyuk turned away with blood in his cheeks and his eyes on the ground, Hongbin couldn't help but smile. He stepped out of his jeans and folded them on the beach and waited for Sanghyuk to do the same. He willed his body to calm and as he stepped into the water with Sanghyuk's hand low on his back, he felt the boiling of his blood and his own embarrassment threatening to consume him.

Underwater, he could hide what his body gave away; but as Sanghyuk lifted him and brought him to his chest, it was impossible for Hongbin to hide his excitement. He searched Sanghyuk's face and hoped he wouldn't say a word and as the water sloshed lightly around them and pushed and pulled their bodies together, Sanghyuk only looked into Hongbin's face with wonderment and kissed him under the moon.

“I thought about you all day,” Sanghyuk said.

“Really?”

“And your boyfriend. Was he with you on the beach that day when you first talked to me?”

“Yes,” Hongbin smiled. “That was him.” He pushed his body closer and rubbed against the firm front of Sanghyuk's stomach. “Did you think he was handsome?”

“Yeah. Very handsome.”

“And you want to meet him?”

“Of course I do.”

“Then we should go back to the apartment and you can meet him now.”

“You only just got here.” Sanghyuk tightened his hold on Hongbin's middle. “Let's wait a little longer.”

So they waited under the dim moonlight as the tide swelled onto the beach and wet the back of Hongbin's hair. For a moment he was scared as the water came up tall on his spine, but Sanghyuk held his thighs beneath the surface and hugged him to his body so the tide wouldn't sweep him away and he felt alright after that. They kissed as the clouds blew over the sky and covered the moon and made it dark. The water became cooler as their bodies adjusted to it, then the last fishing boats of the evening came to the pier and were tied up alongside the others. The fishermen never saw the two boys beside the pier, for they were far out now near the boats, hidden among them in the darkness. Hongbin held hard onto Sanghyuk's shoulder with one hand as he reached for the pier and held himself above the water as the tide came in and Sanghyuk began to kick and swim. He leaned Hongbin up against the pier and kissed him as he pinned him there, unable to move as the water rose and the light fell out of the sky. It grew colder but Hongbin's body was terribly hot. He keened loudly and pressed his body as close to Sanghyuk as he could, but when he felt the brush of Sanghyuk's fingers between his thighs where his cock lay heavy within his underwear, Hongbin startled away at once.

“We can't do that until you meet him.”

“Is that what he said?”

Hongbin blushed and shook his head. “No, but it's only right. We can kiss, but that's all.”

“Then kiss me.”

The feeling of Sanghyuk's warm breath and the weight of his body was too much then. Hongbin kissed him and kissed him hard, he pressed his cock to the front of Sanghyuk's stomach and felt the slight pressure of the water and the movement of the waves. It burned him, all of it; his body ached and his head swam. He kissed with his hands in Sanghyuk's hair and his skin prickling under the water but could find no relief anywhere but in the way Sanghyuk's body pinned him to the pier.

“We should stop,” Hongbin murmured. “Someone's going to see.” But as he pushed Sanghyuk away, he hoped desperately that he would hold onto him tightly and when he did, panting against Hongbin's mouth, Hongbin felt his body grow impossibly weak.

He came without meaning to, without thinking that he could. He came with his mouth open against Sanghyuk's own, panting profanity into him as he searched for friction he would never find. It was a painful relief that left him hot and aching for more and what was worse was the way Sanghyuk moaned into him with his voice strange and distant and vibrating against Hongbin's lips. It was as if he was whining but his voice was so rough and so very deep that it sounded nothing at all like a whine.

They swam out of the water shaking and suddenly very cold in search of their clothes left on the pier.

“We should dry off before we change,” Sanghyuk said. He touched Hongbin's arm and jumped when he startled. “Are you alright?”

“Just fine.”

“You seem upset.”

“I feel strange. Like I should be home now.”

“We'll go,” Sanghyuk said. “My house is nearby. Why don't we stop there for a towel? So we can leave sooner.”

Hongbin looked toward the city and the apartments and could see the light still on in his bedroom. It made his heart steady and his legs feel stronger. “I wonder if he's waiting,” he said absently. Then he turned to Sanghyuk and smiled: “Let's go quickly.”

Taekwoon was still awake and lying on the sofa propped up by two pillows with a book in his hands when Hongbin walked through the front door. Neither of them said anything as Taekwoon looked over the top of his book and saw Sanghyuk standing in the doorway, wringing his hands together and looking everywhere but back at him.

“Come say hello,” Hongbin said cheerfully.

It took a very long time for Taekwoon to place his book aside and to get to his feet and walk slowly over to the doorway. He smiled and it was a bashful smile that made Hongbin beam.

“Don't be shy,” he whispered to him. He took Taekwoon by the hand and pulled him nearer so that he and Sanghyuk stood eye to eye; Sanghyuk was a little bit taller, a little wider.

Taekwoon said hello and offered his hand and as Sanghyuk took it Hongbin noted that their hands were about the same size, but Sanghyuk's was slightly bigger. He pushed Taekwoon so he came a step closer and whispered to him, “Do we have anything to drink?”

“Nothing light,” Taekwoon told him.

“I shouldn't drink anyway,” said Sanghyuk.

“That's right,” Hongbin said as he entered the small kitchen. “You don't drink very often. That's alright though, because I think we have tea.”

He waited with the refrigerator open, listening above the sounds of the cafe through the open windows for any signs of conversation, but neither of them seemed capable of speaking.

“What were you reading?” Hongbin called out. “Anything good?”

“Nothing new, but yes, it's good.”

“What is it?” Sanghyuk asked, very quietly.

Hongbin smiled to himself as he took glasses from the cupboard and poured Taekwoon and himself half a cup of gin with lime and brought Sanghyuk iced black tea. He lingered there with their cups to see what would happen and when Taekwoon asked Sanghyuk to sit down on the sofa with him so he could show him the book, Hongbin's heart began to flutter. He wanted to leave them alone and to go into the bedroom and wait to see what happened, but as he came near the sofa he could see the eager look on both their faces as if wishing he would join them faster; and so he went, and he sat close between the two of them. A boy on either side. He felt smitten there in their warmth.

“Why don't you tell him about the book you're working on,” Hongbin said to Taekwoon. “I bet he'd love to hear about it.”

“I would,” said Sanghyuk.

“Literature is something of interest to you?” Taekwoon asked.

“Not all the time. But I've never known a writer. I think that's really impressive.”

“Not impressive at all,” Taekwoon said lowly. “But I'll show you if you want to see.”

As Taekwoon left to his writing room, Hongbin curled up close to Sanghyuk's side. He whispered, “He's very modest about his writing, but it's very lovely writing. I love it.” He watched as color touched Sanghyuk's face and smiled to himself for he understood the look that was passing over him. It was a look Hongbin was certain he had worn himself long before Taekwoon ever opened up to him; it was a look of a boy enamored.

“I told you you'd like him,” Hongbin whispered.

“He's very charming.”

Taekwoon came out with a short stack of books. Hongbin knew every one of them and so he curled into himself on the sofa as Taekwoon knelt at their feet and spoke softly of what each story was about.

As Hongbin finished his drink, his eyes grew heavy and his head filled with dreams. He watched through half closed eyes as Sanghyuk took each book Taekwoon showed him and read the back panel and then the first page. His voice rumbled like thunder, so much deeper than Taekwoon's softness.

Hongbin drowsed and was not able to stay awake for very long, but as Taekwoon drank his gin and became looser with his speech, slurring very lightly, Hongbin said: “Show him the one you wrote for me. The one about the war.”

“The war?” Sanghyuk asked.

“Yes,” Hongbin told him. Taekwoon left for the bedroom once more. “It's this lovely story about a soldier who runs away from the war in hopes of getting home to his lover. Very romantic.”

“Sounds awfully sad.”

“It is,” Hongbin agreed. “But the sad ones are always the truest.”

Upon return, Taekwoon lifted Hongbin's legs so that he lay flat on the sofa with his legs extended over Taekwoon's lap, and Taekwoon sat very close to Sanghyuk with the book open, speaking lowly. After a while, he began to read. It was not a real reading, for he jumped around the page and spoke about certain events—the ones he loved the very most—but it lulled Hongbin into a slight sleep all the same. He didn't know the time when he was roused again, but his body was sweaty and he felt irritably tired. He was certain he had only just fallen asleep, but the sky pierced darker and the hour felt late.

Taekwoon touched his face and whispered with his breath thick with gin: “Why don't I put you to bed, cheri?”

“Are you drunk?” Hongbin laughed lightly. “You got drunk while I slept. You're awful.”

“Only a little.”

“Where's Sanghyuk?”

“Smoking on the balcony.”

“Are you coming to bed too?”

“In a little while.” Taekwoon put his arm behind Hongbin's head and lifted him up. “I think I want to talk to him a little more first.”

“You like him.”

“I do.”

“Isn't that great?” Hongbin smiled. “I absolutely knew you would. He's a nice boy.”

“He is and a lovely boy. I like him a lot. Now why don't you head to bed?”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” Hongbin teased. “No, I want to stay up now. I'll go outside with you and then go to bed in a minute.”

“Alright. When you go, I'll come with you.”

They stepped out into the muggy summer night and the sky was pitted black overhead; the only light that of the street lamps that glowed eerie on the road below. Sanghyuk was flushed. His cheeks glowed and his eyes were bright. Hongbin glanced at him and laughed.

“You're drunk too?”

“No,” Sanghyuk defended. “I only had a glass.”

“Yes, but I've seen how you drink.”

Sanghyuk burned brighter if it was at all possible and turned away with a smile pressing into the corners of his mouth. He offered the half smoked cigarette and Hongbin took it gladly.

Sanghyuk looked over the edge of the terrace and said: “I should probably go now. It's getting late.”

“Very late,” Hongbin said.

“Why don't you stay?” Taekwoon offered to both of their surprise. He shrank away from their startled glances and looked out over the city as if he had not spoken at all. “I was only offering because it's so late and you've drank.”

Hongbin turned to Sanghyuk at once and agreed: “You should stay. I think that's a great idea.”

But his silence was prolonged and his hands fidgeted within his lap. He looked at the ground and then back up at Hongbin with a timid nod that was not an answer at all.

“Alright,” he eventually said. “Sure.”

“I'll get the linens,” said Taekwoon.

Hongbin, who had been sat within Taekwoon's lap, rose for a moment and then collapsed back into the chair. He crossed his legs and examined Sanghyuk closely. “You don't have to stay if you don't want to. It's alright, we won't be upset.”

“It's not a big deal. I can stay, but I'll sleep on the sofa.”

“Are you sure? If you stay in the bed with us, nothing will happen.”

“I've never slept beside anyone,” he admitted. “It seems a little weird to me, so I'll stay on the sofa. But we can get breakfast in the morning before I leave.”

Hongbin thought it sounded like a perfect way to begin his day: breakfast with the two of them. Warm tea and pastries. They could eat together at the dining table in the kitchenette and be alone where the world couldn't touch them.

Hongbin took Sanghyuk by the hand and walked with him inside where Taekwoon had laid out the blankets and a pillow on the sofa. He said, “If you need anything, the bedroom is right there. We don't lock the door, so just come in.”

Hongbin pressed a kiss to the corner of Sanghyuk's mouth and told him goodnight. He lingered with his hands on Sanghyuk's face and felt his whole body grow warm. How badly he wished Sanghyuk would sleep with them in the bed. He wanted to know what it was like to wake up beside them both.

“Why don't you give him a kiss goodnight?” Hongbin whispered as he passed Taekwoon. He touched his cheek and said, “I think it'd only be polite.” He didn't think he would have to persuade Taekwoon very much. It was obvious how drawn he was to Sanghyuk; his eyes were brighter and he smiled handsomely. He looked neither baffled nor surprised by Hongbin's request; in fact, he appeared very confident. He first kissed Hongbin between the eyes and then walked to Sanghyuk who stood beside the sofa, perplexed and looking tired.

Hongbin stood by the bedroom door. He leaned against the frame and watched. He waited. With a growing warmth in his belly and all his bones on fire, he waited as Taekwoon said goodnight and leaned up the tiniest bit with his mouth pressed to the curve of Sanghyuk's cheek. It happened very quickly. Taekwoon kissed him and Sanghyuk reeled back with a hand on the small of his back; and all at once he moved forward and took Taekwoon's mouth with his own. It was a deep kiss that left Hongbin breathless. It lasted but a second, but felt as if a lifetime had passed.

Then, very quickly, Sanghyuk pulled back. He looked terrified and shocked. Startled and trying to move away, he said in a jumble of slurred words, “I should go. You know, I shouldn't stay. It's so late anyway—” He moved away from the sofa and Taekwoon's reaching hand.

“Sorry,” he said with a panicked bow. He clamored for the door and disappeared at once, faster than either of them could understand.

Taekwoon looked at Hongbin, confused. “What did I do?”

“Nothing.” Hongbin went out onto the terrace quickly, looking over the banister on the road below. “I'm afraid he's in love with you now. You better go get him before he loses his head.”

“What do I say to him?”

“If he really wants to go, then walk him home. He lives on the beach and it'd be terrible if something happened to him.”

Taekwoon stepped quickly into his shoes and without word left the apartment. Hongbin stayed on the terrace and waited for their familiar voices. It was not long before he heard Taekwoon call out to Sanghyuk who was down the road and very far away. Hongbin could see Sanghyuk stop and turn. He waited for Taekwoon to reach him and they talked with their heads together for what felt like a long time and Hongbin anticipated another kiss; but nothing happened. They simply walked out into the dark and toward the sea that was black and faint and silent as death.

He was nearly asleep when Taekwoon returned smelling of the water and slightly of sweat. He crawled into bed behind Hongbin and held him close.

“Is he alright?” Hongbin asked.

“Fine. A little worked up, but just fine. He'll be here tomorrow for dinner.”

“Did you kiss him again?”

“Yes.”

“A lot?”

“A little.”

Hongbin laughed. “A little of a lot?” He felt the tickle of Taekwoon's mouth against his spine. “Why don't you take him out tomorrow, just the two of you? I think he should be more comfortable with you first. Then the three of us can go out and do things. Maybe we can take a car farther into the city, away from the markets and all the same, ordinary people.”

“That would be nice.”

Hongbin turned in Taekwoon's arms and kissed his nose. “So you'll do it? Take him out without me?”

“If you want me to.”

“I do.”

“Then I will.”

“Make sure he's comfortable with you. I want him to love you like I love you. And while you're together, you can kiss him all you want.”

Taekwoon laughed, but it was a wholesome laugh; one that was grateful and sweet. “I'll make him comfortable before I kiss him again.”

“You must have scared him.”

“I think he wasn't expecting it.”

“I'm so glad you like him.”

Taekwoon pulled Hongbin close to his chest and pushed his hand up the back of his shirt. He tickled his spine gently with the tips of his fingers. “I know you are.”

“Make sure he falls in love with you.”

“I'll try.”

“And make sure you love him back.”

“We'll see.”

Hongbin closed his eyes and breathed deeply. In his head their kiss played over and over like a broken record, but one broken in all the right places. He sighed and leaned into Taekwoon's touch. “Kiss me and pretend that you're kissing him.”

“Will that make you happy?” But of course it would and Taekwoon knew this very well. So he tipped Hongbin's head back and kissed him very slowly with his eyes closed and the swelling of his heart filling his head full.

II.

When Sanghyuk woke that morning the sun had been very high and very bright and it had bleached the waters and nearly blinded him as he stepped out onto the porch of his father's beach-side house. The house was old and creaked when he walked and it smelled of old pine and the sea at night, but it was a nice house, a very sturdy house, and as Sanghyuk looked out off the porch that summer morning he could see the fishing boats along the horizon like speckles of dust against the sky flocking to the unknown.

He walked down to the beach with his fishing gear in his faded blue jeans that hung low on his hips and waited for his father to join him. The boat gave beneath his weight and bobbed like a buoy on the dark blue water as Sanghyuk first watched the sky and then watched the city. He could see The Brownstone Apartments from where he stood and as he looked up toward the apartments he thought of Hongbin and then thought of Taekwoon and wondered if they were still sleeping.

“What's going on in that head of yours?” asked his father. He mounted the boat with his hunched back and his greying hair and his eyes full of life. He stared hard into Sanghyuk's face as Sanghyuk shied away and turned toward the water. “Where have you been these days?”

“What do you mean? I'm here. I'm always here.”

“No, you're always in your head. You're here, but you're not with me. You're always looking out like you're searching for something.”

Deeply embarrassed and not wanting to speak, Sanghyuk ducked onto the deck and began to prepare his rod and reel. He selected a white lure he had made the night before and placed it on the hook as his father traipsed about the boat with a haggard gait.

He continued with scorn in his voice and spoke of Hongbin, but he hadn't known Hongbin and so called him that boy. He said, “You've been running off with that boy, I've seen you. And last night you didn't come home until late. Drunk and late. I know you were out with him.”

“You don't know anything.”

This earned him a solid smack on the back of his head with the flat of his father's palm. It wasn't meant to hurt and so didn't hurt but it brought a surge of irritation up from the pit of Sanghyuk's belly. He forced it back down and continued with his lure.

“He isn't a bad person,” said Sanghyuk, very softly.

“I didn't say he was and I don't care if he is. You're here to work, don't forget that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You run around all you want but don't let your head get the best of you. You're leaving at the end of the month and you can't forget that.” His father reached for the rope that tied the boat to the pier and in this moment, Sanghyuk felt a wild surge of affection for him. He was weak and he was tired and very old and he couldn't reach the rope as well as he could have ten years before. His bones creaked like the house on the beach and Sanghyuk was sure if he opened his father up, he would be full of rust just like the boat; so aged and lonely, bobbing along the waters for all of time.

“I'll get that,” Sanghyuk said and grabbed the rope. His father patted his shoulder and collected the lures and the rods and placed them at the stern where they would stand for all of the afternoon in wait of the bass and the mackerel. They always fished in silence and today was not an exception. The wind was light so the water was calm and it spread out like a beautiful blue blanket across the world and Sanghyuk daydreamed with his fishing rod in his hand and his eyes on the horizon where it looked as if the world never quite stopped. It would go on forever. He could sail this boat and never reach land and it would be him and the sea and nothing but the swelling of his heart and the sounds of the water and the jumping bass in spring. But he thought without really thinking that it would be lovely too to not go alone and it was Hongbin on his mind and it was Taekwoon lingering in the very back of it where he loomed with his dark eyes and his broad shoulders. They were such different people. Not at all one in the same. Sanghyuk wondered if it was at all possible to be in love with two truly different people.

“In your head again,” his father muttered. “Why don't you pay attention to the water?”

Sanghyuk blushed deeply and closed his eyes.

The sun had not yet set but the sky was a lurid orange as Sanghyuk and his father returned to the pier. The fish had not come because the water had been too calm, but they had caught enough for dinner and would have to leave earlier the next morning if they wanted to secure a spot in the market the following evening. But they had done well enough and Sanghyuk felt light in ways he hadn't felt in a very long time as the wind propelled them home and the water lapped noisily at the sides of the boat.

He had not been expecting someone to await him on the pier and if it had been Hongbin, he would not have been surprised. But as it was, it was Taekwoon who stood stolid on the edge of the pier with his hands bunched deeply into the pockets of his slacks and his cotton shirt rippling against the coming winds. His hair was very short but the air pushed it back and made it appear shorter; his full round face like a beacon of light beneath the brassy lurid sky.

It was terrible and wonderful to see him standing there. A writhing began low in Sanghyuk's belly. He wanted to bolt from the boat and to ask him why he was there, what was he doing?, had Hongbin sent him or had he wanted to wait for him himself? But his father meandered the boat quietly on his aging legs and took no notice of the man on the pier watching his son. He asked tiredly for Sanghyuk to collect the gear and return it to the shed. He wanted to get home and begin cooking.

“I'll meet you there,” Sanghyuk said. “But I might go out tonight, I'm not sure. But I think I have plans.” He shrank away from the glower this provoked and waited for his father to dismount the boat and begin his hobbled trek home.

With his arms full and smelling of the sea and of fish, Sanghyuk stood on the beach where the sand met the pier and looked up at Taekwoon who stood over him. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to see you.”

“What for?”

Taekwoon tilted his head as if suddenly amused and smiled. He looked as if he felt hollow and his voice was calm but very flat when he asked: “Do you want me to go?”

“No—” Sanghyuk fumbled with the objects in his grasp. He felt awful and silly and could only stare up at Taekwoon who looked as confused as Sanghyuk felt. “I wasn't expecting you, that's all.”

Taekwoon reached for the case of lures Sanghyuk had beneath his arm. “Let me help you.”

“I want you here.”

Taekwoon smiled. “I'm glad to hear.”

“Are we going somewhere?”

“I wanted to take you to dinner.”

They walked along the beach to the shed and once inside where the air was stifling and smelled terribly of crayfish Sanghyuk apologized and ushered Taekwoon out into the open air.

“Is Hongbin coming?” Sanghyuk wanted to know.

“Not tonight.”

“Is he upset about last night?” Sanghyuk looked out the open door. His head whirred with questions and guilt. He blurted before he could think to speak: “I'm sorry about that. I didn't mean to run off that way. I don't normally drink you know? I don't like to drink very often, and I really hate what I did but it was like—”

Taekwoon touched his cheek in a soothing effort to quiet him. “Are you still thinking about that? It's nothing. No one's upset.”

“Then why isn't he coming?”

“Because he wants us to be alone.”

Sanghyuk weakened. To be alone with Taekwoon seemed so much harder than to be alone with Hongbin who had in every sense pursued him quite gallantly. Taekwoon stood dark as shadow on the open beach with the collar of his shirt very low and the angles of his bones sharp as blades.

“Is that alright?” Taekwoon asked. He accepted Sanghyuk's timid nod and looked down the beach with the sun in his eyes and his body alight like firelight. “Why don't you go home and wash up and I'll wait for you here.”

“I might be a while.”

“That's fine. I've nothing else to do.”

This knowledge did not stop Sanghyuk from moving quickly across the beach as gracefully as he could, which was not very gracefully at all. He washed his face and washed his hair and hoped that he no longer smelled of the boat or the fish but knew very well sometimes the smell would linger even after he showered. He stopped by the kitchen and kissed his father's forehead as he hunched over the counter with a scaling knife and told him he might be back late.

“But I'll try to be earlier than last night,” he promised. He left the house in the best pair of jeans he could find and a pressed cotton button-up that had belonged to his father some years before. It was tight in the shoulders but reached his wrists and fit better than many of the dress clothing that he owned and he felt very fresh and very handsome as he walked along the edge of the beach where the sand met the earth and didn't give way beneath his feet.

The sun had set and night had began to drift over the water. The beach was blackened and the sea was deep blue. The boats had returned home and all was silent as Sanghyuk walked down the pier to the very end where Taekwoon stood by the railing with his hands clasped over the edge and his body windblown. He looked unreal standing there: delicate and elegant against the dark of the night sky in his bright white shirt and his lit cigar. Sanghyuk felt a stirring in his loins that burned up his chest and to his face and as he came up behind Taekwoon he was overcome by the sudden urge to kiss him.

He touched Taekwoon's elbow and waited for him to turn and once he did, Sanghyuk leaned forward and pressed his mouth to the softness of his cheek.

“You look nice,” Taekwoon told him.

“Do I smell nice?”

“Yes,” he laughed. “Very nice. Are you ready to go?”

Sanghyuk hadn't a clue where Taekwoon was to take him and he found it odd that they passed the restaurants and the cafe below the apartments and continued down the cobbled road farther into the city where the small breakfast bistros stood blank and empty as the sky. They passed small housing buildings and the fish market that was now closed and kept on until the cobbled road turned to concrete and the buildings became smaller and squared.

He was too nervous to ask where they were headed but he glanced over from time to time and felt the brush of Taekwoon's shoulder against his own and it sent his bones ablaze.

“There's a bar down here,” Taekwoon eventually told him. “It's a nice place, but Hongbin doesn't like to come here very often. He likes to stay close to the market and the people. He says it's too quiet here.”

“You like the quiet?”

Taekwoon hummed, “I do. Do you?”

Sanghyuk wasn't sure what to answer. His whole life was a stream of quietude he had grown accustomed to, but he enjoyed the way Hongbin laughed loudly and spoke louder still as he grew excited and how the sounds of the city overlapped him so often. But he imagined Taekwoon was just as lovely in his silence.

Inside the bar they sat at the counter and Taekwoon ordered them both a beer and drank his heavily as Sanghyuk swirled his glass and watched the foam rise. It was an elegant bar. Very French. The lights were dim and glowed a low yellow over the wooden bar and the wooden stools and the bar was empty as a graveyard with only the two men at the counter with their beers. Sanghyuk looked over at Taekwoon who was looking down at a menu and whispered in the dark to him: “I'm sort of happy it's only us.”

“So Hongbin was right,” he said. “He thought you'd be more comfortable this way.”

“Yes, he was right.”

“How do you think he knows you so well already?”

Sanghyuk blushed and looked away. “I don't know. I've wondered that a little myself.”

“Maybe he loves you.”

“I don't know about that.”

“Does it make you happy to think he does?” Taekwoon watched Sanghyuk evenly without a flicker of light in his deep eyes and it was difficult to look back at him with a stolid glance and no emotion so Sanghyuk instead looked over his shoulder at the menu and shrugged, noncommittally.

“You can tell me,” Taekwoon urged gently.

“I guess it does. I've never been in love before and I don't think anyone has ever loved me.”

“That's hard to believe.”

After Taekwoon had finished his beer he ordered calamari and the duck stew and asked for a bottle of champagne to be brought to a table in the far back where the shadows were long and very dark. He then took Sanghyuk's glass and then took his hand and guided him through the small bar that was also a restaurant and sat them at a table away from the rest of the room that was still empty.

A silence came then that was not uncomfortable. It was a silence Sanghyuk felt he could hide within and so hid well and blushed under the lights as Taekwoon smiled at him from across the table, his hands folded and his expression one of kindness.

“Because you're still thinking about it, I want to ask why did you run off last night?”

“Oh, I. . .” The waiter came with the champagne and the glasses and poured them both a tall drink that Sanghyuk took at once and swallowed whole. “I don't know, I guess I was overwhelmed when you kissed me.”

Taekwoon nodded to himself as if answering a question only he understood. Sanghyuk grabbed his hand at once, unable to form what words he so deeply wished to say and did only what he thought he could: he kissed Taekwoon on the side of his head where his hair was cut short and smelled of lilacs and cigars.

“It was a nice kiss. I loved it. I'd kiss you again, but at first I wasn't expecting it and Hongbin was standing there and I wasn't sure if something was happening that I wasn't aware of.”

It was too much to remember how nicely Taekwoon had kissed him. He kissed differently than Hongbin with a harder bite than Sanghyuk had anticipated. There had been the rough patch of the stubble along his upper lip and the way his hand had felt on the side of Sanghyuk's neck. He was rough and he was heavy where Hongbin was softer than down.

“I didn't mean to overwhelm you,” said Taekwoon in a voice too weak to accept. He was quiet and embarrassed, Sanghyuk could see by the tilt of his mouth. So he leaned in and he took Taekwoon's mouth with his own, kissing him with champagne on his tongue and blood boiling beneath his skin. He kissed with his hand on Taekwoon's leg and felt the tension of his muscles that soon relaxed as Taekwoon pressed into him with a hand low on his back.

The food came and they parted for a breath but when the waiter left they came together again with the dull lights of the bar like stars burned into their eyes. It was wonderful in an odd way that Sanghyuk would have never believed. To sit in the back of the bar with Taekwoon kissing him quietly on the cheek and jaw and down to his neck where he rested his head and breathed deeply was better than anything Sanghyuk could remember. He suddenly wished violently that Hongbin was with them.

“Try not to be overwhelmed again,” Taekwoon whispered against the flushed skin of Sanghyuk's neck. “I know it's strange and maybe you feel unsure about being with us both, but it's something Hongbin wants and he's wanted it for a while now.”

“Is it something you want?”

Taekwoon moved away. He drank his champagne and cut his eyes away thoughtfully. “I wasn't sure at first, but yes I think I want it just as much now.”

They ate in a pleasant silence filled with quick glances and a few stolen touches and when the waiter came to retrieve the dishes, Taekwoon rose from the table and tipped the waiter well as he placed a cigarette in his mouth and offered his hand. Sanghyuk took it and was guided back out of the restaurant. They stopped at the winery for a bottle of Merlot that Taekwoon confided he didn't like too well but it was one of the only kinds Hongbin showed any taste for and they walked back to The Brownstone Apartments.

It had been as they walked that Sanghyuk realized how easy it would be to reach over and place his arm around Taekwoon's shoulders. He was not a small man but he was small in comparison and though his bones were sturdier and he looked more put together than Sanghyuk could hope to be, he fretted to hold him and to lead him down the road with his own foot first so that Taekwoon would have to follow.

If it wasn't for the time Sanghyuk would have stayed. But as they reached the apartment he kissed Taekwoon softly on the brow and told him he had to go. It brought a wave of admiration so potent it melted his bones to water to see Taekwoon furrow his brow and look away as if upset.

“I'll come see you tomorrow,” he said.

“At the pier?” Sanghyuk asked.

“No, not so early like today. Why don't you meet me at the market? After dark. I'll be there with Hongbin and we can go to the cinémathèque.”

“What will we see?”

“Whatever is playing.”

“And then what will we do?”

Taekwoon smiled. “We'll come back home and spend time together. Is that alright?”

It was an impossibility not to return a smile given by Taekwoon and as he smiled back, Sanghyuk felt his face warm with color. He looked up toward the terrace and was not at all surprised to see Hongbin with a thin cigarette in his mouth, watching them closely. He waved as Sanghyuk's gaze fell upon him and Sanghyuk waved back as Taekwoon looked up and laughed.

“Are you sure you don't want to come up and say hello?” he asked Sanghyuk.

Sanghyuk peered into the cafe at the analog above the cooler and saw that it was growing late indeed and his father would be waiting. But he nodded all the same and followed Taekwoon up into the apartment. “I can't stay long.” But as the door opened and Hongbin met them in the doorway, Sanghyuk felt a surge of affection so striking it would have sent him reeling had Hongbin not reached for him and held him.

“Did you have a nice time?” he wanted to know.

“Of course,” Taekwoon told him.

Sanghyuk allowed himself to be dragged to the sofa and pushed back onto the cushions. He opened his arms and took Hongbin into his side and was kissed and kissed again as a smile formed on his already cheerful and flushed face and he thought there was nowhere else he'd rather be than right there within Hongbin's grasp. But then Taekwoon came and he sat beside them with his arm around Sanghyuk's shoulders and pushed the hair out of Hongbin's face and Sanghyuk felt a fluttering in his belly at the sight of them, so close with him in between. He leaned his head into the crook of Taekwoon's neck and smelled the cigar smoke and the alcohol radiating off him like the sweet smell of peonies in the blossoming fall and felt Hongbin touch his knee and then his thigh and he knew very well that this was where he felt the most comforted.

They went to the cinémathèque twice that week in a car Taekwoon had rented in the city and they had driven far out past the squat buildings and the sea until the water was nothing more than a shimmer in the distance which called longingly to them like a friend left behind. They drank expensive wines and ate cold chicken in small restaurants with apartments over top them where cats lounged across balconies with patched blankets hung out to dry. Taekwoon whispered to Sanghyuk one evening as they ate dinner among the city-goers who were vibrant and loud and spoke carelessly different than those from the city by the sea. His breath was warm like an embrace against Sanghyuk's cheek as he said: “Hongbin hasn't looked so happy in a long time. I have you to thank for that.”

“Does that really make you happy?” Sanghyuk wondered.

“Of course it does.”

For a long time it was hard to believe that a man like Taekwoon lived in the same world as everyone else for it was not only love that he searched for but a happiness not for himself but for the man he had devoted his life to. A love like that was what daydreams were made of.

Sanghyuk kissed Taekwoon's cheek and told him it was not only his doing. “He loves you the most as he should and I don't think I would make him quite as happy if you weren't here too.”

This was a truth neither could deny and so neither continued to speak of it. But the silence was comforting and the two of them found solace within it as Hongbin stood across the restaurant at the bar where he ordered them drinks and a dish of olives that he brought back smiling as brazenly as the sun. He sat between them with a leg pressed against either of theirs and leaned his head to the corner of Sanghyuk's shoulder.

It was the third time they had stopped in the city since renting the car early that week and it was the last night that Sanghyuk had promised his father he would be gone for. But as he sat there among the company of the others, he felt a growing pang in the center of his belly that kept him grounded as if he could not move even if he so badly wanted to.

“I don't want to go home,” he confided as they left the restaurant. Taekwoon had not drank because he was to drive and he walked faster when he was sober, his body agile and youthful.

It was Taekwoon who had heard him and stopping beside the car, he inquired: “What do you want to do instead?”

“Are you alright?” asked Hongbin. He settled himself into Sanghyuk's side with an arm around his middle and his head tucked against his chest. “Do you feel OK?”

“I just don't want to leave you two.”

Hongbin gushed at that, smiling as he pulled Sanghyuk closer and kissed him on the mouth. “You don't have to if you don't want to.” He turned to Taekwoon then and asked: “Are you alright to drive a while longer?”

There was an exchange between them Sanghyuk could not decipher any more than he could follow. Unspoken words in the silence around them followed by Taekwoon's warm smile. A nod. He told Sanghyuk to get in the back with Hongbin and he could take them farther out, past the city.

“We have a place there,” he explained.

“It's not really mine,” Hongbin whispered. “He likes to say it's ours but I never go there, because he rented it for his writing and he only goes when he wants to be alone. But it's lovely and it's quiet and out in the country. We can stay there tonight. Or we can stay as long as you want.”

Sanghyuk blushed and smiled and allowed Hongbin to kiss him in the dark of the backseat as the radio was turned up and Taekwoon carried them out into the country where the sea couldn't reach them and was out of sight. There were large trees as tall as buildings and flowering plants of green. Fields stretched out brilliantly bright even in the coming dark and as Taekwoon drove up a dirt road toward a cabin that stood lonesome and quiet on a stick of land, Hongbin pressed himself close into Sanghyuk's side and brought with him a thrum of excitement that touched Sanghyuk's heart and made it gallop.

“It's not really anything special,” Taekwoon said. “But it's somewhere to stay.”

“I think it's lovely.”

“It is,” Hongbin agreed. “But you haven't been inside yet. He gets a little messy sometimes.”

But the cabin was not at all as bad as they made it out to be. It was, in fact, not bad at all. Because it was very late in the evening when they arrived the cabin was dark and all Sanghyuk could make of it was its rich smell of wood and the lingering scent of old rain. The lights flickered on and he could see dust coated the floorboards and the cupboards were empty, but the furniture was very old and antique and handsome in the way antique things can be. The walls were a deep cherry that matched the coffee tables spotted in ink and yellowed papers. Hongbin swiftly passed the two of them and swept these small belongings into his arms and then into the waste basket as Taekwoon watched him.

“Some of those are important,” he whispered.

“If they were very important they wouldn't have been left up here all this time.”

“Do you come here only to work?” Sanghyuk asked as he wandered the rooms. There was but one bedroom with a large bed and a writing desk that housed an old and outdated type-writer. There was a bathroom and a shower and a small library that held books upon books that Sanghyuk had never heard of. He lingered within the warm scent of books and dust and long since burned candles.

Taekwoon came up behind him and whispered against his hair with his arms around Sanghyuk's shoulders that: “Yes, I only come when I want to work. No one has been here but Hongbin and myself.”

“And only a few times before,” Hongbin added.

“But we can stay the night,” said Taekwoon. “And we can stay tomorrow too, if you want.”

“And the day after that,” said Hongbin.

“Yes. For however long you want.”

Sanghyuk turned to them, laughing softly. “We don't have anything to live off of and we haven't brought any clothes.”

“There's a town nearby,” Taekwoon told him. “Not very far. We can go now if you want and pick up groceries for the morning and clothes if you want them.” He turned to Hongbin who stood small by his side and kissed his brow. “Or I can go alone. It would be quicker that way.”

“Go alone,” Hongbin said. “I'm going to shower and open the wine that I know you have stashed around here somewhere and by the time you come back I'll be clean and ready for bed and we can sleep.” He looked at Sanghyuk. “And we'll share the bed. No sleeping on the couch here.”

“No, of course not,” Sanghyuk smiled. But he was nervous and his heart rattled in his chest as he imagined their bodies so close to his own.

“You'll get along fine,” Taekwoon told him as if able to see within his head. He left without a good-bye and Hongbin stole away to the bathroom, leaving Sanghyuk in his own silence among the books and the evening's dying light.

He had no sooner sat on the wool couch with his head tipped back, exhaustion lapping at him in slow moving waves, when Hongbin called out for him.

“Will you wash my hair?” he asked as Sanghyuk pushed open the bathroom door. Fog unfurled like smokelike tendrils across the clouted mirrors. The faucet ran and Hongbin sat on the closed toilet lid in a white cotton housecoat that came down below his knees. A bath had been drawn and as Sanghyuk watched slightly perplexed as Hongbin dropped the robe and stepped into the steaming waters of the bath, he bristled and grew weak. In their time together there had yet to be a moment as intimate.

“Come here,” Hongbin urged lightly. “You don't have to be shy now.”

Sanghyuk knelt beside the bath. He rolled his shirtsleeves up to his elbows. His brow sprouted sweat that left him feeling chilled. When Hongbin handed him the soap he took it mechanically and lathered it between his palms. He hadn't a word to say and as time waned and he wet his hands and then wet Hongbin's hair, it seemed the words flew farther and farther out of reach. He washed Hongbin's hair and kissed his temple and rinsed him and waited for his heart to beat steadily as Hongbin reached up for him and pulled him close.

“Does Taekwoon wash your hair?” Sanghyuk asked.

“Only when I ask.”

“Do you ask often?”

“No.”

Sanghyuk combed his fingers through the heft of Hongbin's hair. “Why is that?”

“Because I like it so much. I don't want him to do something this nice all the time.” He looked up into Sanghyuk's face and smiled. “Do you get it?”

“Yes, I get it.”

“You're very good at it.”

It warmed him utterly to know he was good enough. He sat beside the tub with his knees growing weak and beginning to ache as the hardwood floor cut hard into his bones. But he did not move. And he sat and he waited with his hands in the water and his forehead resting against the pulsing temple of Hongbin's forehead, his skin very damp from the water and the steam and his own growing excitement.

“Kiss me,” Hongbin said. And so Sanghyuk did. He kissed him deeply and for a long time until it seemed time didn't exist anymore. He would spend the rest of his life kissing this boy who wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him closer and closer still until the water lapped at the front of his shirt and wet his sleeves. He laughed and Hongbin laughed and still they kissed until Sanghyuk let himself be pulled into the tub as the water sloshed onto the floors and soaked through his clothes and left him warm and shivering against the bare expanse of Hongbin's chest. Finally there against his naked body, Sanghyuk laid his head against the beating of Hongbin's chest and let the water brush his face. He closed his eyes as Hongbin's fingers tangled into the back of his dry hair.

“Do you know what Taekwoon told me?”

“What did he tell you?” Sanghyuk asked.

“He said you've never been in love.”

Sanghyuk broke away just enough to look up into Hongbin's eyes. He felt foolish and sad but elated all at once. “That's right.”

“He said he didn't believe it.”

“He told me that too.”

“Don't you love me?” Hongbin wondered. “Surely you do, just a little.” He waited and he watched Sanghyuk's expression until his own began to soften. Sanghyuk pressed close and kissed his mouth with his eyes still open, hoping to find something within Hongbin's face that could answer for him. But there was nothing and Sanghyuk felt timid.

“I do,” he finally said. “I really do and I love Taekwoon too, you already know that.”

“So you have been in love is what I'm saying.”

“Now I have.”

“Does it make you happy?”

“It does.”

Hongbin breathed deeply through his nose. “Why don't you sound happy when you say it?”

“Because I have to leave,” Sanghyuk whispered. “And I don't want to. But there is no chance of me staying.”

“We know that.”

“It doesn't make you unhappy?” he asked. “To know that now there's love and it'll only last a very short time?”

“I don't want to think about it,” Hongbin said. “I want to think about you here with me now.” He held Sanghyuk tighter and brought him closer to his body. The water ebbed with their motions like a storm-bound sea as Sanghyuk's body melded to Hongbin's own; two as one in an ocean of their own.

“Taekwoon is upset too,” Hongbin eventually said. “He won't ever tell you and he'll never let it show, but it hurts him just the same.”

“Why won't he ever tell me these things?”

“Because he doesn't want to upset you.”

Sanghyuk pressed his face against Hongbin's neck. “I wish he wasn't so timid.” But he knew as Hongbin knew that it was simply the way Taekwoon was. He kissed him then, softly, with only the faintest brush of his mouth. He asked, “Are you clean now?” and was only then released from Hongbin's embrace.

He stood for a long moment, dripping on the bath mat, as Hongbin left to find him clothes. He never said who they belonged to, but they were tight in the shoulders and slightly short in the arms. Sanghyuk could only assume they belonged to Taekwoon. They smelled of him and as the scent wafted up into his face a heat overcame him like a well recalled memory; one of warmth and safety and everything kind.

“You're blushing,” Hongbin noticed. He smiled when he spoke and placed his hands low on Sanghyuk's hips. “You're very handsome when you blush.”

It was well after dark when the car came up the drive and Taekwoon stepped out carrying a half dozen of paper bags. The two of them had been on the porch with an uncorked bottle of wine, smoking cigarettes they had found in the refrigerator. When the car came into view it was Hongbin who stood first, bounding from the porch as excited as Sanghyuk felt but able to show what Sanghyuk felt timid to express. He kissed Taekwoon on the steps of the porch as Taekwoon struggled beneath the weight of the bags. The sight of them made Sanghyuk's heart soar.

“You're going to kill me,” Taekwoon declared, rosy cheeks and a large handsome grin. “Why don't you help me first? Then you can kiss me.”

But Hongbin kissed him and kissed him again until Sanghyuk, forced from his seat with laughter bubbling from his chest, took the bags Taekwoon was in danger of dropping.

“What did you bring?” Hongbin demanded to know. But it was not until they had come inside and placed the bags on the counter tops that Taekwoon nosed against his cheek and told him: Everything I thought you'd want.

There was fresh bread still warm in its package and a tin of sardines soaked in oil. There was coffee for breakfast and tomatoes on the vine; vinegar and wine and mozzarella. He had brought meat and fish—though not as fresh as from the market, they were fresh enough—and a rack of spices he set beside the kitchen window.

He told them both, “I'll make you breakfast in the morning, but I want you to try and make lunch.”

“Oh,” Hongbin whined. “It won't be any good if I cook you something.”

“I'll eat it anyway and I won't say a word about it.” He kissed Hongbin's brow and then pressed his nose against Sanghyuk's neck, mouthing at the bone in his throat for one short moment. “I'm going to shower. When I'm done I want to sleep. You two can stay up, I don't mind, but if you come in I want you to be quiet. Can you be quiet?”

Hongbin promised that they would be very quiet. They would lie in the dark and if there were secrets to tell they would whisper them only to each other. This had made Taekwoon smile. And then he was gone; having slipped from the kitchen to the bathroom where the floor was still soaked but he never spoke of it. Sanghyuk often wondered after that night if he had simply accepted the mess they had left or if he had thought perhaps something more trivial had happened there and had not wanted to know.

That night, they lay still in the dark with the windows open and the country air blowing strange and foreign through the bedroom windows and Hongbin whispered against Sanghyuk's neck that he loved him.

“I love you too,” Sanghyuk whispered back.

It was then Hongbin turned away. He lay quietly between Sanghyuk and Taekwoon and touched Taekwoon's face in the dark. He was but a silhouette that Sanghyuk could hardly see, but saw him he did; and he watched in wonderment as Hongbin reached for Taekwoon and whispered for him to wake.

“I'm asleep,” Taekwoon murmured.

“Yes, but I don't want you to sleep now.”

“It's late,” he said.

“Won't you wake up? Just for a minute.”

“What is it?” he asked.

Hongbin leaned his mouth to Sanghyuk's ear and told him, “Tell him what you told me earlier.”

Sanghyuk wished very much that Hongbin hadn't woken Taekwoon but the deed was done and there was nothing to be done about it now. So he leaned over Hongbin's small frame and pressed his mouth to Taekwoon's brow and told him, “I love you,” and waited to see what he would do.

For a long time, nothing happened.

And then quickly, as if Taekwoon could only now rouse himself from his slumber, he sat up in bed and took Sanghyuk's face between his hands and kissed him slowly.

“Do you love me too?” Sanghyuk whispered, suddenly shaken. His voice was small and rang heavy in the bedroom. He hated the sound of it and hated it even more that he whimpered and whined as Taekwoon kissed him against and told him, I do, don't you know? because Sanghyuk did know. Of course he knew. The feeling had always been there even from the start.

“You can go back to sleep now,” Hongbin told him.

“You know I can't sleep now,” Taekwoon said in return. He kissed Hongbin in the dark. Sanghyuk could hear it. And he heard even more the rustling of the bed sheets and the discarding of clothes. He listened and he waited growing heated and nervous as Taekwoon reached for him and brought him close with Hongbin squeezed tightly between them.

“Touch him,” Hongbin whispered. But it wasn't until Taekwoon moved off the bed and came close to Sanghyuk's side that Sanghyuk realized it was not himself Hongbin was speaking to, but rather Taekwoon. And it was Taekwoon's hands that moved up the front of Sanghyuk's shirt; his own shirt discarded on the floor and his bare skin like fire against Sanghyuk's exposed chest.

“Do you want me to?” Taekwoon asked gently.

But words were an impossibility. Sanghyuk keened and he nodded. He took Taekwoon's face and kissed him hard so that his teeth pressed roughly against the inside of his own lips and it hurt but he reveled in it. It was a bite he wanted to feel as was the brush of Taekwoon's bare hands low on his belly and then under his pants and inside his underwear where his body stirred and yearned and begged to be touched.

It was not long at all until he was spent. Writhing and broken into pieces as Hongbin stroked his face and kissed his closed eyes and Taekwoon kissed him low between his thighs where his cock ached against the soft swell of Taekwoon's mouth. It happened too quickly and all at once. He came with his hands in Taekwoon's hair, crying out for him as Hongbin held him and urged him on and told him he was handsome, so handsome, the most handsome boy he had ever met and he loved him dearly—too much, he said. Much too much. And Sanghyuk understood, for he loved them too—too much.

Later, in the night he stirred, sweating and shivering and very cold from the wind and he felt strange and achy as if his body had aged overnight. He reached for the boy by his side and felt Hongbin stir against him. Then he reached for Taekwoon who slept with his head against Sanghyuk's heart and his arm across his body, fingers threaded through Hongbin's own.

“Are you alright?” Hongbin whispered.

“I don't know.”

“What's wrong?”

“I feel funny.”

Taekwoon hummed in his sleep.

“What kind of funny?” said Hongbin.

“I don't want to leave you. Either of you.”

“Tomorrow,” Hongbin said, “we'll go back home and we'll go to the coves. We'll take you to the side of the beach where we always go and it'll only be us. You'll feel better then, I promise you.”

Already Sanghyuk felt better. His heart settled as his bones began to melt into slumber. He held Taekwoon close to his chest as Hongbin soothed him to sleep and he knew and they knew that they were not over yet.

Not yet.