Chapter 8

"Come closer."

"What, you want me to fall to my death?" Retorted the younger male, a shadow of a scowl on his face. This earned him an amused chuckle and a knowing look in return. Beomgyu had learned to decipher what that look meant over the year, and the next thing he knew, it was another defeat he'd conceded.

Begrudgingly, Beomgyu pulled himself up with his arms, and sat on the branch leaning against the tree next to Yeonjun.

They were about ten feet off the ground, covered by the thick, dense leaves of the maple tree. Beomgyu could barely see the grass beneath them, nor could he see past the blaring auburn of the maple leaves. Everywhere he turned, he and Yeonjun were shrouded—concealed and hidden from the rest of the park, and therefore, the world.

Just the two of us. Like our own private little universe.

The thought made the younger bite his lips just to refrain from smiling. However, the older boy, much to his dismay, had always been quick to catch onto him—never a moment for him to win the chase. Sometimes, Beomgyu wondered if he was truly that easy to read.

An arm comfortably snaked itself around his waist, pulling him securely flush against Yeonjun's side. "What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing you need to know." He chimed, looking away. This time, Beomgyu was desperate for Yeonjun to let go of the conversation. He'd rather talk about their mundane lives, the maple leaves, the weather, Yeonjun's dirty shoes—anything. How could he possibly tell his best friend to his face that just now he'd thought of kissing him?

Instead, what he was rewarded with was a low snicker and a peck to his forehead. "You realise that it's written in bright yellow letters on your face whenever you have a thought and it's about me, right?''

A weak punch was thrown at his chest. "Shut up, you just like to tease me!"

Then, Yeonjun did his annoying eyebrow raise and sly smirk, emitting a 'hm?' as he pressed their foreheads together. Beomgyu could only let out a defeated whimper before the older boy planted a chaste kiss on the tip of his nose. "Anyway, tomorrow's our first day of high school."

At the mention, Beomgyu's entire body slouched in a way Yeonjun knew was the opposite of comfort. "I'm not looking forward to it." He mumbled, lips curling into a small pout as he rested his head on the other's shoulder; to which Yeonjun responded to by resting his head on top of his. The action felt so natural, neither of them questioned it. "We don't have all our classes together. At some point, you'll have to make a new friend that isn't me, you know?"

Beomgyu scoffed before Yeonjun was even able to finish his sentence. "That's so stupid. Why would I need new friends when you're right here?" His nose scrunched up, a display of his displeasure that Yeonjun only interpreted as immensely endearing. "As long as I have you, I don't need anybody else."

"Gyu, that's not how it works, silly." Yeonjun laughed, ruffling his hair. "You can't be with me for the rest of your life."

And this made Beomgyu sit up, pulling away from their snuggly position. He stared at the elder straight on, and the hardened look in his eyes slightly took Yeonjun back.

"And why can't I? As long as you're still here and I'm still here—and we still have each other, I don't care if the world ends today or tomorrow. Now stop trying to make me talk to other people." He was crossing his arms now, hugging them to his chest like a rebellious child—well, he was still one.

Underneath his breath, he mumbled. "If it's not you, I don't like them." Then, he turned away.

For a brief moment, Yeonjun didn't respond. His childish outburst was met with silence, and Beomgyu's ears began to burn. Was I being too much? Was Yeonjun hyung looking forward to making other friends? But then, we wouldn't be—

Just then, two arms snaked around his waist, pulling him back with a force that was way stronger—or was it more desperate?—than the last. Yeonjun's nose was buried in the crook of his neck, and he could feel the older deeply inhale; taking in his scent. He let the boy hold him, and he didn't move. Neither of them spoke.

If he'd just blinked, focused on something else, or let his mind drift elsewhere, he would have missed it entirely; the feeling of Yeonjun's lip hovering just above the skin of his neck, pressing a ghost of a kiss—so gentle, it was almost like it never happened. But he was paying attention, and unfortunately for his poor, confused heart; he didn't miss it for the world.

"You'll always have me." The words were whispered right against his neck, like he was inking them onto his skin—tattooed and forever to be etched onto him; body, mind, and soul. The younger boy sighed, leaning back into his embrace. "No one will ever be able to take me away from you. Always," a pause, like he was hesitating. Then, "until the end of the world. Forever."

Beomgyu would not ask for anything more.