╰ ♡ ✧ ˖ non-sexual forms of intimacy ┊ @maneoxyunho — 38 .
home is a concept jiyong never quite managed to grasp.
namhae is a bandaid on a wound that requires stitches, a temporary fix for a heart he can barely hold together with his bare hands. he finds moments of happiness in the smell of freshly picked herbs and the clatter of wood and steel when he cooks up a new recipe and a gentle summer breeze playing with his hair. but when he stares up at the stars painted on his ceiling, he can’t help but wish for something more.
eighteen summers come and go, and he finds himself standing in the middle of an empty apartment in seocho, with eyes full of wonder and a head filled with dreams. his cat rubs against him, curling her tail around his leg, and a gentle smile forms on his lips as he crouches down to scratch her between the ears. “this our home now,” he says to her, to which she responds with a noise somewhere between a meow and purr.
but the word home still leaves a hollow feeling in his chest. he tries to fill the void with the company of strangers, who taint his skin with marks and bruises that only fuel his self-hatred when he looks at them in the mirror. they never stay. he tells himself he doesn't want them to, but when he muffles his sobs into his pillow after he's left to take care of himself, like so many times before, he realizes how badly he craves to be held and loved by someone who wants all of him and not just his body. but who could ever love someone like him?
guarded, selfish, and yet hopelessly vulnerable: such is seo jiyong. not the lone wolf he claims to be, but just a simple human being with a heart made of glass he so desperately tries to protect. a monster in the making, as he calls himself.
and then han yunho comes along, wearing a smile so bright it could chase away any dark cloud. he has never met anyone made of sunshine and stardust, but it is the only way he knows how to describe him. his heart surrenders without putting up much of a fight, and he catches himself daring to dream of a happy ending to a story of endless heartbreak and broken promises. maybe he is allowed to be happy, after all.
as the sound of his boyfriend’s soft breaths slowly lulls him to sleep, he comes to the realization that some homes have a heartbeat and that his is locked in the chest of a man who turned out to be a guiding light in some of his darkest times. a lazy smile quirks at the corners of his mouth and his eyes flutter closed once more. for the first time in twenty-one years, he is content with the life he’s living, and the tempest sweeping about inside of him finally settles down.
he lifts his head, eyelids heavy with sleep and a smile still lingering on his lips. it is a rare moment in which he’s awake while yunho is asleep. normally it’s the other way around, and he wants to cherish the moment for as long as possible. words he’s never spoken before threaten to spill from his mouth, but instead he nuzzles back into the pixie’s chest and whispers a small, “thank you,” before sleep overtakes him too.
home was a concept jiyong never quite managed to grasp.
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