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Home is where the heart is. At least, that's what Seungkwan's mother would tell him whenever he'd run off too far, his little legs overly eager to explore.
He lived far enough away from the big cities that it was rare for him to ever travel. His parents were content with staying in their nice small town, on their beautiful and comfortable orange farm. Little Seungkwan loved playing between the growing trees, inviting his friends over to play tag or hide-and-seek whenever there was enough brush to take cover. His favorite season was early spring, when all the fields smelled like nothing but oranges.
He grew up without any troubles. Other than a desperation to see the world past his tiny rural community, his parents compared him to the likes of a saint. Ironically enough, they went to Mass every Sunday morning. Seungkwan wasn't actually comparable to the one and only God his family worshipped. He couldn't ever sit still during the service anyways.
Even though little Seungkwan wanted to go beyond the foresty borders of his community, big Seungkwan never imagined himself leaving, feeling satisfied with the confinement of the true loneliness of the small town he grew up in. He had few friends from school — there weren't many children he graduated with — but they were close, tight-knit like the miniature woven baskets he'd make with leftover orange peels.
As a kid, he always enjoyed hearing the sound of the trains coming and going from the nearby train yard. They always had so much cargo on them, but Seungkwan knew a lot of it was oranges from his own farm. He would wave goodbye to the train, almost as if he was waving to the oranges themselves. They were like his children.
He was a worker bee, but he had small dreams. He loved working with children more than anything, aspiring to teach them since he was a little boy. He would lecture the other children who came over his farm about the ins-and-outs of taking care of so much land. They'd look to him with wide eyes, seemingly interested in his teachings, until he later realized they were just there to take some fruit home. It never brought him down, though.
For a while, Seungkwan thought he knew where he was headed in life. Working at the local daycare for the rest of his life didn't sound so bad. He was content with whatever he had. That's just how he grew up. Content.
Never happy, though. Not that he didn't have happy moments, but he learned a long time ago that it was best to just be satisfied with what he had. Sometimes that's not a bad mindset to have, but sometimes it left him biting into spoiled citrus fruit when there wasn't anything else left to eat.
Seungkwan couldn't let go of his life. He clung onto it so tightly that his knuckles threatened to pop out of his skin. As much as he thought it was best for him to stay, outside perspectives said otherwise.
Outside perspectives meaning Hansol.
Hansol was an interesting character, as Seungkwan would put it. A bad egg, as his mother would put it. An outcast, as Hansol himself would put it.
Not someone that Seungkwan would've ever imagined himself talking to, ever.
Hansol was a city boy, plain and simple. Walking through the thick, swampy Florida woods was not his forté. The cicadas at night freaked him out every time he'd go to bed; they were practically in his walls. He stuck out like an FSU fan in Gainesville.
Seungkwan was entirely repulsed by Hansol when he first walked into class at the beginning of sophomore year, with his stupidly well-put-together outfit and expressionless face. Hansol sat at the desk next to his, not saying a word.
"Hi," Seungkwan said softly, trying to get a quick word in before class started. His curiosity always got the best of him. There was a new student, and Seungkwan couldn't go without knowing who he was. He knew every other student at that school. Rumors spread quickly, as one could imagine.
Hansol didn't respond, instead eyeing down his already raw and bitten fingernails. One of them had a bandaid on it. He picked until he bled.
Seungkwan waved at him to get his attention, but he neglected to give any attention. "Rude," Seungkwan muttered under his breath. Nobody ever ignored anyone around there. Especially not Seungkwan.
Seungkwan would never admit it, but he had a bit of an ego problem. There wasn't a person that disliked him, at least to his knowledge. It seeped into his head quite a bit, filling the cracks like new liquid concrete. Now, someone was challenging this. Challenging him.
"Prissy city kid," Seungkwan continued, scoffing to himself.
"My name is Hansol," he spoke, not taking his eyes off his extremely short nails. His voice was low; uninviting. Yet, his name intrigued Seungkwan. Sol, like the sun. The warm sun that beat down on him everyday, keeping him in a tight embrace as he worked in the fields.
"And yeah, I'm a prissy city kid, if you wanna call me that. I don't want to live in this dump anyways."
Hansol's solemn voice took Seungkwan out of his brief trance. It took a moment for Seungkwan to actually register what Hansol said, a twinge of anger rumbling from within his gut and threatening to spill out. What came out was a lot less anger, and a lot more understanding. "Where are you from?"
Hansol's face twitched, as if he wanted to smile but couldn't. "New York."
"It's always the damn New Yorkers moving here," Seungkwan rolled his eyes. "I'm sure you'll get used to it. It's a learning curve."
"I didn't move here by choice." Hansol's words had a more aggressive edge to them, as if he was allergic to the idea of having to learn to live somewhere new. He felt like he was. He missed the friends he had up north. "You can blame my dad for me being here."
As Seungkwan began to interrogate further, the bell rang and the teacher started to speak. It was only day 1 of 180. Seungkwan instantly knew Hansol would make each one of those school days just a little bit more interesting.
Hansol continued sitting next to Seungkwan, even after their harsh first interaction. They started with passing notes to each other, but by the end of the year, the teacher got so tired of telling them to shut up that their desks were separated, and even that didn't stop them from becoming the most annoying people in class.
After a full school year of being classmates, Seungkwan was proven right. They'd become the best of friends, even when their opposite personalities sometimes made them butt heads like two angry bulls.
The summer after tenth grade would be different. Not any different for Seungkwan — the heatwaves and long trips to go to the east coast beaches were simply routine. He was well practiced in wearing lots of SPF, though he'd still end up burning in places he thought the sun couldn't reach. Most of all, his job in his family's fields was a lot easier because they had sprinklers to water the trees, not to mention the rain that showed up every other day. He wouldn't have to tire his back muscles from constantly grabbing and picking plump oranges, like he would during the entire other half of the year.
Seungkwan wasn't worried about the summer. Hansol was.
Hansol's summers in New York were still warm, but not scorching. He wasn't a beach person. He never liked getting his hands dirty. It was the first summer he found himself dreading, especially if he hung out with Seungkwan the whole time.
Seungkwan was, in all his essence, the polar opposite of Hansol. Seungkwan's favorite activities were Hansol's least. Hansol's favorite activities were Seungkwan's least.
And yet, Hansol never had a more fun summer in his 16 years of life.
Being away from home was a blessing to Hansol. He used to run away at least every other week, and the cops would just bring him right back. Every single time, he'd get a hard smack across the face and get locked in his room. At least he was able to feel freedom tingling over his body for just a few hours, where he'd wander around the outskirts of the city and let the cool air brush against his skin. The loud bustling city noises always seemed quieter to him in comparison to the sounds of his father angrily yelling at him.
Now, Hansol took every invite Seungkwan gave him. It didn't matter where he went, he'd follow.
Seungkwan's farm? He got his hands dirty.
Daytona Beach? He brought his swim trunks.
He had to be outside in the heat all day? Seungkwan had enough sunscreen to share.
Seungkwan was the escape Hansol needed. His kindness made Hansol melt like the local ice cream shop's cheap desserts in 95º weather, but his stubbornness annoyed the ever-loving shit out of him. It only made Hansol admire him even more.
They say the summer is the best time for self-growth, without school or other priorities getting in the way. Hansol felt himself grow more than the growth spurt he had in between the seventh and eighth grade. He felt like himself when he was around Seungkwan. It was like they always knew each other, as if they moved down south together.
It always hurt the most when he needed to go back to his house, his dad either pent up enough to beat him for staying out for so long or dead asleep on the couch, beer bottle in hand. Hansol wished he wouldn't wake up.
When Hansol slept over Seungkwan's house for the first time, he didn't have any anxiety laying heavy on his chest. It was Seungkwan who took that spot, lightly snoring and using Hansol's chest as a pillow. They had a long day at the beach, and they wrestled in the wavy water too many times to count. Hansol ended up slightly sunburnt in the exact spot Seungkwan rested his head, but who would Hansol be to move him away?
Little moments like that made Hansol realize Seungkwan didn't make him feel the same way his hometown friends did. He had love for all of his friends — and would forever — but there was something different about the way he adored Seungkwan. Everyday he regretted being so shut-off from Seungkwan for the first month or two that they had known each other, but he was always reminded that Seungkwan was the one who forcefully broke down those barriers because he was so eager to get to know him. Boo Seungkwan, unstoppable force. He'd never met someone so determined before.
The more he thought about it, the more he needed to confess. It was an itch that he needed to scratch, but he couldn't reach it.
On the last day of summer before their junior year, Seungkwan and Hansol biked to their favorite nearby park. Nobody ever went there — not even the children after Sunday service — and they had it all to themselves. It was strange and desolate, but that's what made it so perfect. They could play around as much as they wanted to.
"I don't know how many more times I can play 1v1 volleyball, Boo," Hansol bent over, hands at his knees and out of breath. They were out there for hours, and though Hansol never minded, Seungkwan's athleticism was unmatched.
"So you'd rather just sit at a bench and talk?" Seungkwan teased, holding the volleyball at his hip. He didn't ever mind the fact that Hansol loved long, quiet conversations, either; he just preferred playing ball.
Hansol put his finger to his lips and tapped, as if he were deep in thought. "Yeah, actually. I'm tired."
"You're no fun!"
"I'm fun, it's just that my fun-o-meter runs out faster than yours does," Hansol said matter-of-factly.
They sat at the nearest bench that was shaded by a tree. Hansol made the mistake of sitting on a metal bench in the middle of the sunlight earlier that week. Seungkwan laughed at his misery.
"Ready to go back?" Seungkwan asked Hansol, who was taking a large sip from his water bottle.
"Back where?"
"Back to school, you dingus!"
Hansol gave a short laugh in response. Now that he actually could see through Seungkwan's egotistical façade, any one of the playful insults he threw at him bounced right off his skin. "I think I'm ready. You being my friend has made it so much easier for me down here."
"Really? For a while, I thought you hated me," revealed Seungkwan, averting his eyes from Hansol by looking at all the details on his scuffed up volleyball. "You're a tough cookie to crack."
"To be honest, I did kind of dislike you at the beginning," Hansol responded, pausing when Seungkwan looked up at him. "But then you made it really hard for me to. Being around you has made me feel so welcome. So happy."
Hansol noticed Seungkwan's face turn red, though it could've just been blotchy from their hours spent in the sun. "To be honest, I haven't had a close friend like this in a while. I'm glad we're friends now."
"That's hard to believe," Hansol snickered, "but I'm glad too. I'm glad I met you."
Hansol didn't know what to expect when he first met Seungkwan. Now that they were the best of friends, he never wanted to let go of him — even if their overall plans in life were different.
Seungkwan always talked about staying put and settling down near his family's property, perhaps even building a home on the acreage. Hansol was always one to respect other people's desires and interests, but he felt the complete opposite. He wanted nothing more than to escape, like a prisoner with nowhere else to go. He hated that Seungkwan wouldn't budge. Such a stubborn boy he was.
No matter what happened, Hansol knew he'd find his way back to Seungkwan. His first real love, even if he was too shy to share that side of himself with him. Seungkwan surely just saw him as a friend, and that was okay with him too. As long as Hansol could be near the comfort and security that Seungkwan offered, he was content. Maybe Seungkwan's own contentment had rubbed off on Hansol. He didn't mind it.
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When school ended, Seungkwan didn't anticipate feeling so alone. He had to say his goodbyes to a lot of his friends, who were going off to college or moving elsewhere. His hometown became a lot smaller than he remembered it, with fewer and fewer people that he actually knew residing there.
Hansol was included in this. He claimed he was attending the nearby community college, which was still at least thirty minutes away. Seungkwan hoped he would still be able to stay in touch with him, but their messages to each other were left unread from how busy he had gotten. Days, weeks, months had passed, and they succeeded in distancing themselves from each other. They had their own aspirations as their own individual people, which only happened to exclude one another.
Seungkwan was stuck. The farm still needed to be tended to. The kids he cared for on the weekdays weren't going anywhere; in fact, they only continued to grow, making him sad at the thought of them outgrowing daycare, and therefore outgrowing him. Everything grew. The oranges, the kids, the distance between him and Hansol. Everything shifted, except for him.
Every passing day was as mundane as it could get. After one of the best orange seasons his family's farm had ever seen, they were hit with a terrible season right after. Not to mention the awful weather conditions in late summer, which only killed more of the last remnants of the fruits that they had. Business was slow, and Seungkwan's outdoor work was cut.
Perhaps it was a good thing that Seungkwan didn't have as much expected of him now that the oranges weren't doing too well. He needed a break; something to switch things up for a bit. His routine was getting too tiresome for him.
There was one person he knew he could call that could definitely change things around for him, but he couldn't get himself to hit the call button. He's busy, he told himself, resting his head on a large stuffed bear plush he had since he was five. He won it at the local fairgrounds after begging his mom to pay the extra $20 so he could keep playing. To him, it was worth every cent.
The bear reminded him of Hansol too, the light brown softness not dissimilar to his wavy hair. Seungkwan missed playing with his hair and his earlobes and missed the way he—
Ring. Ring.
Seungkwan immediately picked up his phone, not even checking the caller ID. Nobody was really calling him up recently, so the only person he thought it would be was, "Hansol?"
"Um, no? Who's that?"
Seungkwan facepalmed once he heard the voice. Mingyu.
Mingyu was one of his coworkers at the daycare. He graduated a year before Seungkwan, so they knew each other but didn't always have the same classes. As much as they'd gotten closer through their shared task of taking care of children dropped off by their exhausted parents, Seungkwan became a little hesitant around him once he found out he had a major crush on him.
"He's a friend of mine," he replied, holding the stuffed bear close with one arm while he held his phone in the other. "Anyways, what's up, Gyu?"
"I need you to come in. You're much better at controlling some of these kids than I am, and at this rate I think the custodians will be finding paint chips around the room for the next fifty years."
"You let them use paint?!"
Mingyu was not always the best caretaker. Actually, he was a pretty good caretaker, but he gave into the kids' demands so fast that he wouldn't really stop to consider the consequences of said requests. He couldn't resist those sparkly pleading eyes.
Seungkwan reluctantly got ready, upset that his day off was ruined by Mingyu's inability to say no. He tucked the bear in his bed when he made it, not letting his frustration get the best of him. Patience was something he struggled with until he met Hansol. Hansol was the most patient person he had ever met.
It was sort of unhealthy how much he thought of Hansol. He just missed the friendship they used to have, along with the feeling of just being a kid. He missed the way he viewed the world, not having to deal with things like doing laundry or taxes. Things used to be simple.
When he pulled out of his garage to go to work, he looked at the two bikes still hanging up on the wall, collecting dust. His bike — looking worse for wear — and Hansol's bike — newer, but not free from overusage. If only summer could come back to him soon enough.
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"You know, for a kid that seems to just know everything about this goddamn world, you can't even get a fuckin' degree. Unbelievable."
Another night, another argument. Hansol just ignored him.
Hansol hates that he looks like his father. It's a constant reminder of everything he'd put up with from him up until this point. He was planning on moving out soon — he picked up a job at a local burger joint to save up and find a better place to live. Though, even if he was on his own, his dad's face followed him everywhere he went, leaving a trail of guilt and resentment behind him.
He was struggling in some of his classes because he just didn't care anymore. College wasn't really where he wanted to be. He just felt like it was his only option. He couldn't fix cars, couldn't build anything, and didn't know a damn thing about plumbing, so trades were out of the question. The military was another option, except he would've rather killed himself than enlisted. That left college, which he wasn't doing too well in anyways.
His father acted like he cared, but all he did was yell and scream at him. Hansol wasn't going to put up with it, so he just put on his headphones and drew sketches to hopefully cheer up. He picked up drawing in high school, when he got bored in his classes and had nothing better to do.
Often, he found himself drawing people that he loved. One of those people was Seungkwan. It was a way to cope with the fact that he hadn't seen his best friend in ages, even when he could easily just contact him on the phone. He knew Seungkwan wasn't all that busy, but he was afraid to call him. He wasn't sure why. He just couldn't do it.
It probably had to do with the fact that he didn't want to become a burden in Seungkwan's life. Their hangouts often came to an aggressive halt whenever Hansol's father yelled at him over the phone to come back home, or scolded him in person in front of Seungkwan just to humiliate him. He couldn't bear Seungkwan having to deal with any of that.
As the months on the calendar got closer to December, Hansol experienced weather he was more familiar with, even if it was still drastically different from home. No snow, high humidity, and a sun that just refused to go away. On the days where there was an exceptionally noticable chill — which were few — Hansol wished he could lean into Seungkwan, sneaking his head on his shoulder as they sat on a park bench together.
Something Hansol deeply regretted telling Seungkwan when they first got close was that he hated hugs. After they had spent a long day running around in fields with dead, brown grass, Seungkwan ran up to him with his arms wide. "I don't really like hugs," he made an X with his arms, steering clear of Seungkwan's embrace. He felt remorse when Seungkwan gave him a sulky pout, but not nearly as much regret as now, when he wanted nothing but to just be around him.
He was never the best at making friends. He'd always have to approach people first, which was easier said than done. Sometimes it would work well, and sometimes he'd get picked apart by someone's harsh stare alone and he'd have to walk away, shame piling up in his stomach.
The good thing about college is that he wasn't really forced to make friends. Everyone just minded their own business. Any collaborative projects were a breeze because nobody really wanted to interact. At least, that was his luck. Still, there was something itching in him to meet new people, since the only person he really conversed with on the daily was his dad.
He couldn't move past Seungkwan. He just wasn't sure if Seungkwan felt the same. Perhaps the train already left, and Hansol was abandoned at the station with his ticket still in hand.
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Surely Hansol would've forgotten me by now, right? Seungkwan thought to himself, biting his lip from anxiety as his finger hovered over Hansol's contact. They'd spent three whole years together, and he still couldn't pick up the phone. Amateur.
Seungkwan decided to take a walk to work that day, as opposed to driving. It really wasn't that far from home. He needed the sunlight anyways.
He worked up to a light jog, listening to his favorite songs through his earbuds while he observed the town around him. When he was a kid, he remembered it being a lot more dense with swampy forests and greenery. It was all cut down to build new things of such high importance: storage units, car washes, and uncanny subdivisions of cookie cutter homes. The quietness of the night was replaced with construction noises and too many cars passing through to get to Orlando or some other big city area. It was more than frustrating for Seungkwan to see a place he used to love become so commercialized.
Seungkwan could've sworn there used to be a liveliness to the place he grew up in. Maybe he just got older. Maybe it did change. He couldn't bring himself to leave, even if the roots of the land itself were ripped out.
He usually preferred to live in the moment, ignoring his phone while he walked on the cracked pavement. However, he was expecting a call from his doctor at some point that day about a physical he just had. He had wanted to sign up for the local badminton league for a while, and decided screw it! What else could he possibly lose?
So, he took his phone out from his pocket, checking for any missed notifications. Stupidly, he walked without looking in front of him. Amateur.
"Ow! Sorry," a man bumped into him, immediately drawing Seungkwan in with his voice. He was also distracted by his phone, but that's not why Seungkwan was intrigued by him.
They both turned around to look at each other, their faces scrunching up in disbelief.
"Hansol? What are you doing all the way over here?" Seungkwan's voice cracked slightly, emotion having a tight grip on him. Hansol, in the flesh. He couldn't believe it.
Seungkwan walked forward as he naturally wanted to hug Hansol, but then backed off when he recalled he wasn't too fond of physical touch like that. Strangely, he never minded the little earlobe rubs Seungkwan would give him affectionately. It was like Hansol always wanted him close, but not so close that he risked losing everything.
"Surprise," Hansol cheered awkwardly. Seungkwan always thought it was so charming how timid he was. Even when he eventually warmed up to Seungkwan, he still had his quirks that absolutely flipped the latter's heart upside down and backwards. "I'm actually here for an interview. At your farm. Surprise number two!"
Seungkwan couldn't remember his family posting a job opening recently. Interesting.
"Really? You wanna work out there?" he asked, remembering how Hansol never particularly liked doing handiwork like that.
"It's better than flipping burgers," Hansol shrugged.
Seungkwan stared into his eyes curiously, trying to find a new light in his eyes. There wasn't much different about him. Same cargo pants, same graphic tee from high school, same wavy light brown hair that wouldn't stay put no matter how much he tried to tame it. Hansol would always be Hansol. It was like being home again.
"We really need to stay in touch," Hansol continued the conversation, "it's been forever, man. I miss the days we used to have."
Seungkwan swallowed every unspoken word that came to mind. He longed for Hansol more than he ever really knew. So, he settled for saying something a bit more user-friendly.
"Me too. We should catch up sometime."
Hansol wasn't really sure how else to keep the conversation going, so he left it at that. "Alright, well, I'll see you around, Boo."
"See you, Sollie," he answered. I'll wait forever.
After that interaction, Seungkwan found it a bit easier to hit the call button on his phone. He waited all day — right after he clocked out from overtime at work — until he felt like he couldn't bear not hearing Hansol's voice any longer.
It was strange, this feeling. He shouldn't feel like this, he told himself. It was too obsessive. Too overbearing. Yet, it felt too good. Too exciting. Too many things all at once.
He pressed call, and Hansol picked up right away. They spoke about little things that didn't seem to matter — the weather, new music, and dreams that existed way outside their tax brackets — and yet the simple daily conversations still meant everything. They needed each other more than they let on.
After only a few days, they were back to exactly how they were before they split apart. They talked like things were exactly normal, like they were teenagers again and the burden of the world wasn't falling on their shoulders. Things felt okay. Maybe just okay, but at least not bad. Seungkwan felt his heart tug at him more and more as they kept talking, but he couldn't quite put a name to the sensation. He needed to talk to someone about it. Someone that wasn't Hansol.
When he wasn't occupied with texting Hansol or doing gardening at home, Seungkwan went to work at the daycare. It kept him grounded at a time where Hansol seemed to take him off his feet.
"Talking to Hansol again?" Mingyu asked, clearly pointing out the fact that Seungkwan's thumbs were moving at a rapid pace on his phone screen. It could only be Hansol, Mingyu quickly figured out.
"Yeah," Seungkwan brushed him off.
Mingyu wasn't one to be brushed off. He'd sulk and complain until Seungkwan would feel bad for him and comfort him.
He got up from his seat across the teacher's lounge and sat next to Seungkwan, still engaged in his long distance conversation with Hansol.
"Do you like Hansol?"
The sudden question made Seungkwan jolt, looking up from the screen in his hand to answer him. "What? No! It's not like that at all."
Mingyu hummed, gears turning in his brain. He was smart, just a little too gullible and easygoing for his own good. Seungkwan always knew something intelligent was up whenever he'd space out and furrow his brows while deep in thought in the break room. There's a reason he was valedictorian during his senior year of high school, after all.
"Are you sure you don't?" Mingyu inched closer, with an almost playful tone of voice. He held a fishing rod with a nice big piece of bait on the end of it, and all Seungkwan had to do was bite into it.
Seungkwan stayed silent, ignoring how annoying Mingyu was being. If he gave Mingyu an inch, he'd take a mile.
Mingyu sighed when he realized Seungkwan wouldn't let up, and relaxed a bit in his seat. His shoulders were tense though. Something needed to be said.
"Seungkwan," he said, more seriously, "there's something I should probably tell you. I should've told you a long time ago."
"What, that you have a thing for me?" Seungkwan looked up, directly into Mingyu's now-widened eyes.
"H-How'd you know?"
"Pfft," he finally put down his phone, his full attention now on Mingyu. "Everyone within this goddamn town knows you have a crush on me. You're kinda obvious, you know."
The silence that hits after stings the both of them. Maybe it wasn't a good idea for Seungkwan to say that.
Mingyu broke the silence after a few pauses. "Well, I also know that I don't have a chance with you. And that's okay with me. I just want you to know that you're not the most subtle person either. I can tell by the way you talk about him."
Seungkwan remains silent, shifting his eyes to try and avoid the conversation. Mingyu keeps going.
"I really have no problem with you liking Hansol. At all. I just wish you'd come to terms with it. I thought maybe me confessing would help you, I don't know, realize your feelings for him."
"I don't," Seungkwan gulps, "I don't want to have feelings for him. I can't. He's my best friend." He shifted his focus to Mingyu, and Mingyu could now see the fresh tears welling up in his eyes.
"So? People fall in love with their best friends all the time."
"Yeah, but," Seungkwan's voice shakes, "it's different. I'm not… supposed to like him. My family would kill me."
It's clear to Mingyu that Seungkwan hadn't even processed these emotions properly at all. He was stepping into a territory that not even Seungkwan himself was familiar with. Mingyu wouldn't back down.
"Do they not like him? Or are they… unsupportive?" The weight of that last word was enough to make Seungkwan break. Countless nights at home just screaming into his pillowcase because he knew his family wouldn't approve. He always seeked approval from others, but especially from his family. He couldn't be with Hansol if it ruined everything.
He had come out to his family at thirteen, and they refuse to acknowledge or talk about it. They told him it was fine as long as he never dated anyone. So, he pledged a life of loneliness. Until Hansol came along and swept him away, of course.
"Unsupportive," he answered, looking away as if he was embarrassed. With Mingyu, though, he didn't have to be.
Mingyu pulled him in for a hug, letting him weep into his shoulder. Mingyu always gave the best hugs, but Seungkwan knew that Hansol would be better. He wanted a hug from Hansol so desperately.
"I promise, it's okay to let go. It's okay to love. Don't feel ashamed about it," Mingyu reassured in his gentle daycare voice. "I know you love your family. But leave some room in your heart for Hansol too. He sounds like he needs it."
Seungkwan nodded, his teardrops dripping down like the pitter-patter of the rain outside.
"What does this mean for me?" Seungkwan stutters, still worried about the outcome of everything. He always kept his worries buried deep inside and with a lock on them. He hated how much he was opening up, but he couldn't stop it any longer. "What if he likes me back?"
"Then he likes you back, and that's that."
Seungkwan huffed out another breath, and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. One step at a time.
"I'm sorry about all this," Seungkwan sniffled, "I've just… never really talked about this before. I didn't want to bring you into this."
Mingyu just smiled, giving a reassuring rub on Seungkwan's shoulder. "You don't need to feel sorry, Seungkwan. I'm always here to listen, whether you reciprocate my feelings or not. That doesn't matter. I just want you to be happy, and I know that you've been happier since you started talking to him again. That's all that matters to me."
The conversation essentially ended there, since lunch break was about to be over. He wiped his tears and went right back to work, tending to the children by reading them a story before naptime. He pushed all his remaining thoughts from his conversation with Mingyu to the back of his mind until he left his shift. Then it all sunk in.
He walked to work again that day. The weather was decent, and he didn't feel like driving. He regretted not looking at his weather app in the morning, though, since the sky turned an angry shade of gray while he worked. The raindrops were like hard pebbles on his skin, showing no mercy whatsoever.
The more Seungkwan thought about it, the harder it was for him to deny Hansol. He tried so hard to separate himself from him because he couldn't tolerate the feelings of love that came with him. He couldn't keep doing this to himself. It wore him too thin, like the orange trees that had been used for all their resources until they couldn't provide any more.
He felt bad that the conversation shifted from Mingyu to Hansol, but the former didn't seem too offended by it. In fact, he was almost inclined to think that perhaps Mingyu used his own crush on him to bait him into talking about Hansol. That cunning bastard, he thought to himself.
There was no escaping now. He had to just face it. He loved Hansol. The two issues that arose from that fact alone were still enough to attempt to scare him back into submission: his family's lack of support, and the long standing question of whether or not Hansol even loved him back.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Hansol thought it was suspicious that Seungkwan was texting him so much. He didn't miss me that much, did he? Hansol asked himself almost daily. It was like he couldn't accept that Seungkwan was even giving him an ounce of thought.
The interview went incredibly well — half because he was already familiar with Seungkwan's parents, and half because he was good at putting up a front — and he landed the job. It meant more money, less time with his dad, and the best part of all: working with Seungkwan again.
At least he thought so.
Seungkwan's parents told him his work wasn't needed anymore. Not because he was bad at his job or anything, but because he'd been stuck there for ages and they were trying to give him a rest. To any normal person, that would've been a win. But of course, Seungkwan is no normal person.
"Seungkwan, you still work at the daycare. I promise it'll be okay!"
Attempting to reassure Seungkwan was sometimes like using an umbrella and walking outside in a category five hurricane.
"But you don't understand," he sobbed, "this is my family. This is my life. I enjoy it!"
Seungkwan was raised in a household where work came first, and then everything else second. He was molded to be a farmer, an entrepreneur, and a tour guide before he was even able to spell his name correctly. Perhaps Hansol didn't understand. He'd still be there to hear every complaint.
Hansol sighed, trying to come up with some way to help.
"Hey," he said in a quieter tone, "I'll be here almost everyday, you know. You can always come out and help me."
"I don't want to hang around with you while you're working. I just want to relax with you."
"Maybe this work will be relaxing."
"It's not," Seungkwan deadpanned. "I can assure you it will only make you sore and achy and tired. And then you can relax after your shift."
Hansol had no rebuttal, so it ended there.
When he actually started working there, he always made it a point to talk to Seungkwan if he was around. It was always more comfortable for Hansol to talk face-to-face. It also made him fall deeper and deeper in love everytime he had to look at Seungkwan's lightly tanned, soft face. His eyes carved holes in Hansol's soul, ones that could only be filled by the presence of him alone.
Once Seungkwan no longer had to worry about farmwork, he noticeably lightened up. It was difficult for him to admit that he was tired. Hansol knew.
Working at his best friend's family farm made all the difference for Hansol as well. It was a bit of a drive away from his house, but he managed. It was worth it if it meant staying away from said house. Besides, he had another place he called home anyways.
A few weeks went by, and Hansol was getting into the groove of things. He often finished his tasks early, which meant he could hang out at the house until it was time to hit the hay.
"Do you remember when we went to the local pumpkin festival together and ate so much we almost couldn't walk?" Seungkwan asked, rubbing Hansol's earlobes as he almost nodded off. They laid on Seungkwan's bed together, the same as it was just years ago.
Hansol nodded, his eyes barely open but his ears still eager, listening to every word that came out of Seungkwan's lips.
"I was thinking," he paused, running his hand up through Hansol's hair as if he were petting him. "Do you want to go to the strawberry festival with me in a few weeks? I've always wanted to go."
Hansol poked his head up, giving a small grin. "That sounds cool with me. I'd love to."
They spent another few moments in quietness. That was how they spent most of their time together now, though it wasn't a bad thing.
"Seungkwan," Hansol murmured, staying put where he laid on his chest. "Have you ever thought about… leaving?"
The silence was still heavy in the room, although the metal fan in the corner suddenly felt a bit too loud in Seungkwan's ears. Another question he had trouble answering was this one.
"Leaving here? No, not really," he hummed, curious as to why Hansol would ask. "I always imagined I'd be living here forever. Was never really told I had any other option."
Hansol sat up, facing Seungkwan's inquisitive gaze. "I want to move somewhere up north again. I don't want to be trapped here."
"Come on, it can't be that bad! You're basically a Floridian now," Seungkwan sulked, playfully hitting Hansol's chest. "Besides, I don't want you leaving me. Not for some other dumb ass state."
"I wanna know what you consider a dumb ass state."
"Rhode Island."
"Okay, fair."
The mood was lighter, but the question still lingered. Seungkwan didn't feel ready to let go yet. He didn't know when Hansol planned on moving, but he hoped it wasn't anytime soon.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Hansol had no idea what he was signing up for when he agreed to go to the strawberry festival. It was farther away than he thought, but he didn't mind it. Seeing Seungkwan so excited was what really mattered.
He hadn't seen Seungkwan light up like that since high school. Life hit Seungkwan like a Metra train. Hansol picked him up off the tracks.
"Is this like the pumpkin festival, but… for strawberries?" Hansol asked, putting on his paper red wristband at the front gate.
"Well duh!" Seungkwan exclaimed, dragging Hansol in by the wrist. "I can't believe it took you until we got here to figure that out."
They started walking aroud, distracted by the bright carnival-style lights and the large unreliable rides that were built in less than a day. The crowd was getting difficult to walk through, so they held hands tightly so they wouldn't lose sight of each other. Wherever Seungkwan wanted to go, Hansol would follow closely behind.
Seungkwan spotted a stand with all sorts of sweet treats. Funnel cake, strawberry shortcake, cookies the size of their faces.
"I love strawberry shortcake," Hansol cheered, looking over the menu with the other boy. "It reminds me of a bakery I would visit everytime I ran away. The guy always gave it to me for free."
"Aw," Seungkwan pouted, the image of a young Hansol finding his way to a corner pastry shop floating through his mind. What Seungkwan saw now was still a young man with his own troubles, but maturer. He grew into his features well. "I've never had strawberry shortcake. I think I'll try it."
They ordered two strawberry shortcakes, and sat nearby at a wooden picnic table. They just enjoyed the sweet taste of the crumbly cake with the cream and fresh strawberry on top, without saying much else. It was nothing like Seungkwan had ever tasted before, but he loved it. Something fresh. Something new.
Neither of them required words to communicate how good it tasted, nor did they need words to understand each other. That was one of the biggest reasons why they got along so well.
Hansol wasn't actually the hugest fan of desserts, but he bought one just to share the experience with Seungkwan. Most of the time he'd go to that bakery in New York just to talk to someone that wasn't related to him. He'd usually just give the shortcake to the first homeless person he saw.
Once they had finished, they went off to play some games. Hansol already made it clear to Seungkwan that he didn't want to go on any rides, and while Seungkwan complained for a good ten seconds, he respected his wishes. Besides, he looked forward to winning all the games anyways.
"Woah, look at that red panda up there!" shouted Hansol over the noise of the crowd. He pointed to a medium sized red panda plushie with the softest looking fur on it. He'd have to play the game to win it, but that was the whole point of going there, wasn't it?
"You're good at darts, you should go for it," Seungkwan encouraged, referring to the amount of times they had messed around with Seungkwan's secret dart board. Hansol was a natural. He had an eye for precision and a hand that proved it.
In just a few attempts, Hansol hit all the targets he needed to win the plush he had his eyes on. He jumped for joy, nearly letting his resolve drop to hug Seungkwan.
Before Seungkwan could lead them elsewhere after Hansol was given the plush, Hansol stopped him.
"What's up?" Seungkwan asked.
Hansol placed the newly earned stuffed animal in Seungkwan's hands. "It reminds me of you. I think you should have it."
The world felt like it stopped for a brief moment, until Seungkwan came back into his own body and laughed at Hansol's unwavering fondness — not to tease him, but to admire him. Seungkwan was blessed to be around him.
"Hansollie," he smiled, returning the red panda back to its original owner. "I already have a plush that reminds me of you. Now you can have one for me."
Hansol visibly blushed at that. There was no way to conceal the way his face turned rosy red — not even sun protection could save him now.
Maybe Hansol didn't need saving. He was right where he wanted to be, wandering around a crowded festival with his best friend's hand in his own. He cherished every moment he could.
When they eventually made it back home, Hansol slept over for the first time in years. He was always welcome — Seungkwan's parents loved him — but they didn't really have sleepovers anymore because it felt too childish. They shared the same bed, and it was a bit more cramped than they remembered it being, but they made it work.
"Does Mingyu still have a crush on you?" Hansol queried, voice muffled by the covers of the bed.
"I think so," Seungkwan replied. "We had a conversation about it. We're cool though."
Seungkwan wasn't going to mention the fact that the second half of the conversation he had with Mingyu was about him. Sue him, but he wasn't exactly ready to confess to Hansol yet. Not yet.
"So you don't like him back?"
Oh. Not exactly the response Seungkwan was anticipating.
"No, not really," Seungkwan's heart pounded, worried that Hansol could somehow read his thoughts. Mingyu never had a place in Seungkwan's mind, because all he ever thought about was Hansol. "He's not my type."
For some reason, Hansol was in an inquisitive mood that night.
"What is your type then, Boo?"
Seungkwan gave a nervous laugh, though he hoped it wasn't obvious that he was anxious. "I don't really think I have a type," he pondered, blatantly lying, "it's not something I've given much thought to."
The conversation took a turn after a few moments, when Hansol swiftly changed the topic to moving again. Seungkwan knew Hansol wasn't all that keen on staying there — especially not with his dad — but suddenly dropping everything and leaving did not seem ideal to him. That was just the kind of person Hansol was. He had nothing to lose. He was okay with change. He liked adventure and thrill. Seungkwan just couldn't agree with him on those things. He couldn't tolerate seeing him disappear.
Before they went to bed, they placed their plushies between them and tucked them in. They were adults now, but still children at heart. The red panda and the brown bear went well together. So did their owners.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
Inevitably, after a few months of routine — eat, work, sleep, repeat — Hansol and Seungkwan reached a point of exhaustion again. The orange trees had blossomed finally. It was Seungkwan's favorite time of year, when it smelled like nothing but sweet oranges outside. However, the upkeep on the trees tired the both of them out. Seungkwan couldn't keep himself from helping Hansol whenever he struggled at work, so the days always ended with dirt on their hands and sweat in every crevice of their bodies.
So, when Hansol asked him if he wanted to come with him and move up north with him again, Seungkwan almost said yes immediately. He quickly realized he was about two minutes from a heat stroke and reeled back his words before letting them out. The only thing he hated there was the heat. At least, that's what he told himself.
"Boo, I know you love being here," Hansol whispered, fidgeting with his own nail-bitten hands, "but I don't. I never have. It's not you at all. I just… don't fit in here. I'm not happy here."
Seungkwan bit his lower lip, processing Hansol's words carefully.
"I want to be far away from my dad. That's all. That's been my dream since I was six years old. It's all I want, Seungkwan."
"And you want me to just ditch everything I've built here to leave with you?" Seungkwan held his tongue. He couldn't fathom that this was the conversation they were having right now.
"Well," Hansol shrugged, "I don't really want to do this alone."
Seungkwan felt tense all over his body. It wasn't just soreness from the work he was doing outside nearly everyday now, but an ache he usually only felt in his heart.
Hansol typically thought more rationally than this, Seungkwan thought to himself. Hansol didn't have the money, nor the family, nor the planning skills to be doing all of this. Seungkwan couldn't say yes to this.
"I'm sorry, Sollie," he cleared his throat. "I can't."
Normally, Hansol would let Seungkwan win. This time, he wanted to put up a fight, like he was afraid of letting go too.
"Please," he pleaded, "there are so many greater things out there. You can still visit your family. You can still do the things you love. Did you really want to spend your whole life here? In a town that doesn't even accept you?"
"Yeah," Seungkwan blinked away his forming tears. "Maybe I do want to. I don't need you to make decisions for me. My family's already done that for me my entire life anyways. Not like you'd understand."
Seungkwan always had a bite to him. He just didn't expect to lash out on Hansol, to the point where it left a mark.
Hansol tsked, a bewildered grin on his face. "Your privilege seems to make you forget how much of a shithole it actually is here. You have it all made for you right here. I get left with scraps and a father who wants nothing but for me to die. I can find family somewhere else."
"Then just go," Seungkwan snapped, "leave everything behind. I don't even care."
Both of them knew that he cared. Who would Seungkwan be if he didn't?
Hansol sighed. This was getting a little blown out of proportion. "The offer still stands. I'll be at the tracks next Thursday. Your family already knows I'm leaving."
With that, Hansol grabbed his things and left Seungkwan's bedroom.
Seungkwan couldn't contain it anymore. He cried into his pillow as soon as he knew Hansol was out of the house.
He couldn't look anywhere around his room because of Hansol. So many pictures of the two of them and little trinkets collected on their outside escapades were littered around the room, reminding him of how close they used to be. They were still close, but they were adults now. Their dynamic was different. Seungkwan couldn't get himself to stop loving Hansol no matter how hard he tried. Even when Hansol threatened to leave, Seungkwan loved him without any doubts.
In a fit of silence alongside the sound of Seungkwan's enraged sobs, his phone rang a few minutes later.
"Hansol?"
"Will you actually stop assuming I'm Hansol and look at who's calling you for once?"
Mingyu's whining managed to get a smile out of Seungkwan. "Sorry. What's up?"
"I wanted to let you know that I'm quitting."
Seungkwan's heart sunk. Two losses in one day. Everything just felt wrong. This wasn't how he wanted it to be. He dreamt of living a life of sunshine and rainbows and oranges. Recently, it's felt like nothing but rain and gloom.
"Oh," was the only word Seungkwan could get out. It wasn't like he'd never see Mingyu again, but it sure felt like it.
"I can't be taking care of children for the rest of my life. It's not really my calling," Mingyu explained. "I want to do something different with my life. But I know you'll do just fine staying there. I'm sure the next person will be easier to work with than me."
Nothing would just stay the same. The next person to fill the job slot would probably leave too. Everyone would leave. Except Seungkwan.
"When's your last day?" Seungkwan asked.
"Next Thursday."
Seungkwan almost started sobbing again. Things weren't working in his favor anymore. Perhaps it was time for him to learn that that's just how life works.
They ended the call shortly after, and Seungkwan was crushed. He had a decision to make, but in short time. No matter what the outcome was, something would have to change. It was Seungkwan's greatest fear coming into fruition.
⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘
The week leading up to Thursday was tense. Hansol partially wished he would've just kept his mouth shut and never told Seungkwan he was leaving. He also fully wished Seungkwan would go with him. He doubted he would change his mind.
He never planned on telling his father. He just packed up his things in two backpacks and hoped for the best. If his dad tried to call him, it wouldn't matter anyways. He would be blocked the moment Hansol walked away from the house.
Hansol stopped staying over Seungkwan's house after work, since he was too scared to show his face. Boo Seungkwan, unstoppable force. Someone Hansol didn't want to mess with, even years after realizing that his popular tough guy act wasn't really all that threatening. The real Seungkwan was worse. His emotions pierced through Hansol's shielded heart.
He loved Seungkwan too much to do this to him. He almost considered not going.
Thursday came faster than anticipated. He grabbed his last remaining things — toothbrush, deodorant, and his red panda plushie — and left for the last time. It was easier said than done. Maybe he'd grown a little attached. He wouldn't admit it though.
Hansol walked past Seungkwan's farmland to get to the train yard. He winced as the smell of the orange blossoms infiltrated his nose. All it reminded him of was Seungkwan, which only pained him more. Was he making the right decision? Was running away really all that worth it?
He nodded to himself. Just do it, he took a deep breath, it's for your own good.
Once he had made it to the train yard, he waited. He wasn't sure when the train would start moving. He just had to sit there, anxiously, before he would have to sneak onto a wooden cargo carriage. He gave up hope that Seungkwan would show up. Maybe in the next life, they could be together.
Or not. Seungkwan believed in God. At least Hansol thought so.
The both of them also spent a lot of time near the train tracks, chasing each other like puppies on the topsoil. He still felt like that kid, wild and free as ever. If only younger Hansol knew how lonely he felt now; that he would have to jump on a moving train just to escape the life he lived now.
He thought about how many times they'd just lay in the soft grass together, looking at the shapes of the clouds and pointing them out to each other. He'll never forget the time Seungkwan claimed he saw a cloud that looked like Hannah Montana. There was just no possible way. Hansol still chose to believe him.
It was hours of torture that he endured, sitting on a pile of logs while he waited for the train to leave. It wasn't necessarily the waiting that bothered him. He felt nauseous thinking about what he was leaving behind. It was as if someone was taking his intestines and wringing them out like a towel.
Hansol knew he was in love with Seungkwan. There was no doubt about it. But there was nothing he could do about it now. He'd just have to settle for someone else.
After what felt like forever, the train slowly started to move. He ran to the carriage he had his eyes on, and began to climb in, when he heard a voice yell out his name.
"Hansol! I'm coming!"
Seungkwan ran as fast as he could to the same train car Hansol jumped into, with his bags in hand. He carried a lot of baggage, but it didn't weigh him down.
Relief washed over Hansol like he was at the beach again with Seungkwan. Nothing could separate them after all.
"You made it," Hansol cried, helping Seungkwan get up into the carriage.
Seungkwan shed tears as soon as he got up, looking out and observing the moving land. "I can't believe I'm doing this for you, Chwe Hansol."
They both laughed as their tears fell. "You're doing this for yourself too, you know," Hansol smiled, rubbing Seungkwan's shoulder to comfort him. "I honestly think you needed this more than me."
The smell of the orange blossoms began to fade as the train got faster. It finally clicked for Seungkwan. He'd find a new life with Hansol right beside him, but it still hurt nonetheless. It was bittersweet, and it didn't prevent him from sobbing any more.
"Look at me," Hansol cupped Seungkwan's face very uncharacteristically. It all clicked for Hansol too. "We're going to be okay. As long as we're together."
Hansol hugged Seungkwan for the very first time.
It lasted for minutes, sobbing into each other's shoulders until their shirts were soaked. All the pent up love they had for each other broke out of their flesh and poured out onto one another.
"Hansol," Seungkwan sniffled, breaking away from the hug. "I… I love you so much. I couldn't let you leave. Not by yourself."
"I've been waiting for you to say that since the day I first met you," Hansol gave a teary smile, looking deeply into Seungkwan's glossy eyes.
Without much else to say, Seungkwan placed his lips on Hansol's. The kiss was light, but held so much longing that they didn't know when to stop. Seungkwan's lips were at a constant state of dryness due to how many times they had been burned by the sun, and yet Hansol still couldn't get enough. The train was shaky — not ideal conditions for kissing — but they held onto each other for dear life, as if the world would crumble into pieces if they separated.
"I love you, I'll say it a million times if I have to," Seungkwan whispered against his lips.
Hansol smiled into the kiss, so happy to finally have Seungkwan so close to him. "I love you too, Boo. So fucking much."
"More than the oranges?"
"Oh, I never really liked oranges," Hansol admitted, grinning at Seungkwan's shocked face. "They're too tangy for me."
"I learn something new about you everyday," Seungkwan went in for another hug.
Hansol laughed, wrapping his arms around Seungkwan. "And you will for the rest of our lives."
Seungkwan saw his childhood flash before his eyes as the cargo train moved farther and farther north. Everything he held so dearly to his heart was in the past now, waiting for him with open arms one day if he ever returned. He didn't think he would. He still had a piece of his childhood, his dear Hansol, right in front of him to keep him afloat.