When they turned eleven, Beomgyu took him here again—on a chilly September evening, where the breeze no longer held the comforting warmth of a peck like it would a March afternoon. Yeonjun still remembered the dew drops caressing his cheeks when they last visited.
Now, he only pulled his turtleneck higher, the wind ruthlessly ravaging through his hair. Beomgyu was by his side, a hand clasped tightly around his; wearing a white beanie and a bright yellow sweater. Yeonjun noticed that his beanie had cat ears and snickered. How adorable.
"Come quickly!" The younger male ushered, dragging him by their intertwined hand. Yeonjun only yelped as he tried to keep up. The breeze blew more mercilessly this time around, and he could taste his hair in his lips as he lightly shuddered.
Beomgyu finally stopped once they arrived at Yeonjun's favourite spot of the park—a giant maple tree. They sat, and only then did Beomgyu let go of his hand to dig into the basket he's been carrying. Yeonjun's palms felt oddly empty in the cold, and so he tugged them under his sweater to get rid of the chill.
"Hyung, do you know that they're going to renovate that part of the park over there into an amusement park?" Beomgyu spoke up, his tiny hand pointing. Yeonjun's gaze followed, and surely enough, he already saw a Ferris wheel; standing tall in the middle of the eerie dusk, its bright lights in glowing contrast against the dark of the night.
"Does Beomgyu want to go?" He spoke up, noticing the light wash of colour appearing on the younger's face at the third-person address. He always knew Beomgyu was fond of being referred to like that ever since they were toddlers, but didn't realise it would still have the same effect now. "Stop calling me that, I'm not five anymore!" He retorted, but the crimson hue was now evident on his visage. A heartbeat after Yeonjun was done with his fit of giggles, he spoke up in a timid voice.
"Beomgyu doesn't like tall places."
"Mm," hummed Yeonjun, slinging an arm over the latter's shoulder. "Hyung knows. We can look at it from afar, then."
Beomgyu nodded silently. A second later, he produced a small box in his hands, pulled right out of the basket. Yeonjun's favourite grin was on his face once again as he stared at him in anticipation.
"Look what I got you!" Singsonged the younger boy before he hurriedly put the box down, reaching to pull out other things from the basket. "What's that?"
Beomgyu only smiled cryptically, not answering. Clutched in his hands now were a candle, a lighter, and a bunch of plastic utensils; he quickly scattered them in his lap before disassembling the paper box. Yeonjun's eyes widened slightly.
"Your birthday cake, silly." Said Beomgyu in a playful tone, the lack of honorific intentional based on Yeonjun's deduction; yet he paid it no mind. The younger now proudly handed him the cake, practically shoving it into his arms—which a mildly flustered Yeonjun diligently took.
"Carrot cake, your favourite. I asked my mum to help me make it! I think I did a pretty good job, don't you think?" Beomgyu asked with a triumphant grin as he put a candle in the middle of the cake and pulled out a lighter. In white frosting, Yeonjun could barely make out the handwritten 'Happy birthday Yeonjun hyung' on top of it. Beomgyu usually had neat handwriting, so this could only signify the struggle he had with the decorating process.
The mental image of Beomgyu putting so much effort just for him put a fond smile on his face.
"You made it, really? Are you lying to me?" Yeonjun remarked, a sly smile on his face. What he didn't tell Beomgyu was that he hoped the chuckles from their dry mouths could cover the sound of his own heart beating, rapidly against the constraint of his rib cage.
"It's your birthday, I put in my all! How dare you question Beomgyu!'' He pouted, intentionally utilising his baby talk advantage. Beomgyu, too, was aware of just how much the older adored this pet name of sorts.
"I, Choi Yeonjun, vow to never question Choi Beomgyu ever again for as long as I live.'' He spoke, voice dramatically deepened. Beomgyu just huffed at the tease, attempting to light up the singular candle amidst the strong evening breeze.
In between the banterful exchanges and muffled giggles, the two boys sang a very unsynchronised, off-key take of 'Happy Birthday'. Yeonjun later would realise that the reason he was only able to focus on Beomgyu—even though it was supposed to be his birthday—would signify more than he'd ever let on.
"Alright now, time for you to make a wish!" Chimed the younger. The cat ears on his beanie were flopping along with the wind, the brightest smile adorning his face. For a moment, Yeonjun was convinced that the orange glow emanating between them was coming from the younger's smile, and not the birthday candle.
Humming, Yeonjun closed his eyes and did as he was told.
I hope to always see you smile like this, until the end of forever.