平衡

The suspense keeps his body wound tight as Boa waits, watching and attempting to anticipate the reaction of the wolf before him. It’s difficult to coalesce the terrors having reigned over him for months on end with the man he’s been presented with; slight in frame though expressive, appearing calm, reflective even as Boa holds no doubt he’s being scrutinized, threat-level no doubt mercilessly assessed. His gaze remains fixed, his focus singular even beyond the moment when he can see the shift, sense the difference - small changes in the other’s posture, the air between them flowing freely into his own lungs as the tension seems to dissipate at least partially. “Thank you.” The words fall light as a breeze, his steps still tentative as he continues closing the distance, breaching the lighter atmosphere with a palpable relief. “Thank you.”

“I’m alone, I’ve never had a pack.” It’s surrendered readily, prioritized as if to appease the other wolf, although he’s aware of the particular vulnerability of his status and the risk it brings with it to reveal it. As if realizing this, there’s a slight wince, small, but perceivable where they now stand opposite each other, closer than before. Boa’s eyes trail over him again as if memorizing, an effort both to reassure himself and battle the few bloodied recollections he has of the man. “I’m only alive because someone found me and saved me - but they’re not a werewolf, they can’t… help me with that. I don’t know much at all. I’m lucky it’s someone with enough resources to physically… contain me somewhere, during…” He trails off, throat constricting with an odd emotion as he remembers, as he recognizes it as one of the first times he’s ever spoken of the full moon. It’s one of his first attempts to put into words the intense mix of pain, power, instinct - the shame that’s clawed its way into him with every frenzied night spent surrounded by metal, concrete. Alone. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, Boa hopes he’s understood, bowing his head in a slow nod before meeting the other wolf’s gaze again. “I can’t take it any longer. I need your help.”

it’s something seunghun has become accustomed to in his short time as an alpha, that people turn to him for guidance and assistance, yet when it comes from boa, which has been the main thing in his past that remains a foggy blip of being a major error, coming back to face him in this way, it makes seunghun feel discomforted, but also knowing that he must step up to that pedestal of his position. it’s easy within the pack, they trust him, they know him. but here, it’s a stranger, with a weak bond from circumstances. two mere strangers who have their hands forced into this. but in the least, it seems they’re both willing participants at this time.

it remains discouraging, that maybe he ought to have just taken the day to go out shopping, or order food in, which he still could do. the day is not yet over. and it’s rare that he has a day to burn in the studio - yushin wishes that it could have been utilized properly. he wonders what goes through the producers minds when they create track after track, but for himself, the sahara is definitely dry with no oasis in sight.

only when inspiration hits, does he scribble away in his notebook at home or typing in notes on his phone. today is not that day. yushin sends a quick message to a colleague to come over to join him since a pizza is too big for one. maybe they could have a collaborative night as well, considering all things. he’d lugged a guitar here, his clumsy unskilled fingers plucking at a few chords that he knew off hand. 

nothing sounds right. nothing is fitting. tiring.

could he have done more? he wonders this as he stares off into the distance as he stands in the crowded train, waiting for a few more stops until he reaches his destination. is there something he should have said, or not said? it was probably the fact that he couldn’t contribute anything; monetary gain was low, aspirations were at a standstill, and his temper that costs him everything: impulsive at best, emotional at worst, and they definitely run all over him and the person he’s with. nothing is made with logical decision, and yet - 

after the calm, the brain goes into overdrive, and it kicks him repeatedly. yes he should have stopped to think. yes he should have waited it out. but he. can’t. help. it. rubbing his eyes, he doesn’t even want to go home because the closure is going to suck. he doesn’t want to hear it, even though he cannot predict what doom there will be. but... whilst he is illogical, the other half is much more well tempered ( in a way. okay, maybe he’s being generous here... )

this is a cycle. the worst part is he cannot recall what happened the first time around, where their paths split ways in their youth and they found themselves here. the honeymoon phase seemed saccharine, where even the lightest bumps at the elbows and knees whilst they walked hand in hand were affectionate and jovial. how does that go down the drain, and why so quickly? the receding reality that descends on their crowns, ever so harshly to say, pay these fucking bills, judgment of society, families that don’t support them, life decisions that leave them awry, a fucking pandemic that is either costing them their budgets or costing them their mental health and wellbeing. this is definitely a sign of the times, but nobody said the sign was going to be a positive omen.

he doesn’t want to think the worst. they can’t kick one another out. because - because - well, they’re stuck. temporarily, or forever as long as this living situation will allow, it’s either them turning back home with their tails tucked between their legs to be told, ‘we told you so’, or they stick it through, if only out of sheer stubbornness. 

all these thoughts that plague him as he slowly walks off the train to his doom, ah yes. standing idly at the door, hands by his side as he waits to unlock. moments must pass, his left airpod goes silent on him, and the door opens without any movement from his end. ‘come on in, you’re being....’ the statement is left unfinished, as they turn and leave and he wants to scream, no, no- don’t sound that disappointed in me already, they haven’t even begun talking yet, and it already seems to be over.

“do you want me to move out? what do you want, i’ll quietly pack and go, i can find a friend’s place to stay at, it’s not a big deal,” these are statements of a man who has given up, who didn’t even try. which is harshly confirmed when he turns to look, and their eyes meet. his panicked ones greeted by large, disappointed orbs, dark and rich in colour that match his own. 

“i want you to try. do you even try? because right now it sounds an awful lot like you don’t even care-”

“it’s not that,” his panic rises, his words bubble, and he turns back to the door, wanting to escape, but there’s nothing for him out there. it’s true, his life is here, in this apartment, no no- not the apartment, but the contents. the person that he shares this place with. it’s - he - there’s no running. he has to stop. “i... don’t know how.”

“work with me.”

it seems to easy, akin to a pied piper’s tune that has him turning to stare into his partner’s sights again, unavoiding. it makes him so breathless, the anxiety that as him clambering out, but he tries to look clearly. tries to process the words. “i don’t - i ... i.” he pauses, taking a deep breath. “why aren’t you pushing me away?” that’s the easy way: say some regrettable shit, run away, rinse & repeat, a man condemned to live alone eternal. pushing away love and affection comes naturally to him, instinctively and subconsciously, and it takes everything in him not to reject effort, tenderness, care, and hope. “you don’t deserve this from me, i don’t deserve your patience.” his voice cracks, and again he looks down, at no particularly interesting spot on the floorboard. when he says such hateful things, it would be so much easier for him to leave, for them to part, because he wouldn’t be hurting them both, bogging them down with these demons in his head.  

“who are you to tell me what i deserve or not? i can make those decisions for myself. what i want is for you to work with me. we can’t work on anything if you keep running away.”  

an idle movement of his left ankle, which rolls slightly. “you’re right.” the pain it lessens. less snappy to the touch. their eyes meet directly this time, and he’s determined not to let his concentration break. “i’ll.... i’ll tell you everything.” and that’s a start. he’ll come clean about what he’s feeling, in comparison to pushing everything away. everyone away. it won’t be pretty, but it can’t be worse than the damage that has already been done. he wants a conversation, he’s going to get it. he doesn’t even know where to begin, but the fact is it feels alright, safe. the dam has broken and he’s willing to give a little. 

   – in this life, haeil has been moved by humanity’s progression. it is him the one who can move through time and space freely, without limits that restrict him to any place. but he is not the one who makes the most advances and yilin is the proof. in every universe they have met, his soul is always going higher, becoming wiser. every goodbye becomes a painful one because while haeil may see him ahead, it won’t be the same. every time has its own charm, every yilin he has met holds a special place there, in his heart. untouchable, unmovable. ❛ hot pink, ❜ he nods, convinced. ❛ makes your eyes pop out even more. ❜

   haeil hums, fingertips almost reverent as they ghost over the softness of yilin’s features. ❛ i think part of the charm of materialism is that it can vanish just as easily, ❜ haeil murmurs, eyes flicking from yilin’s dark brown hues to his lips. ❛ some like to live for the chase because it is how they interpret the world. ❜ fingers brush yilin’s fringe to the side, tender and soft. is haeil himself a man in the search of tomorrows? yilin is the constant and the variable, every time. is this why haeil remains here, looking for him in every world he goes? will it be like this forever until his existence comes to an end and he is reborn outside of these memories and powers?

   yilin’s sudden kiss pulls him out of his musings. the edges of his expression turn gentler, kinder with love. the brief contact awakes a series of tingles in his lips. haeil cups the side of the younger’s face and he searches for his mouth this time, takes his time breathing him in before closing the distance in one go. lips slide with practice ease between one another, he sucks on the other’s lower lip and breaks in. haeil chases for his fill and the world comes to a stop. it is nice to dive into this warmth, to stop thinking of complications and surrender himself to what feels like an instinct. he pulls away, caresses yilin’s cheek with the pad of his thumb as he smiles. ❛ who knows what fate may be, ❜ he shrugs lightly, a mischievous smile dancing across his features. ❛ but i found you, that’s what matters most. ❜

𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐲, 𝐲𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐦𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬. having something disappear within his grasps from his future within seconds or minutes is scary, daunting, and it is likely written all over his face to the point where he stays silent as he mulls it over. disregarding the hot pink boa around his neck, he leaves it there but pays it no mind. there’s a question atop his crown that he wonders all the time: what is it about himself that haeil likes so much? but it’s a question he doesn’t want to actually ask because it opens the pandora’s box of yilin’s own insecurity and self-doubt, things that he would prefer to keep under wraps because he knows its meaningless. “i-... i don’t think that’s the life for me. sounds too tiring. too..” he trails off, not sure where he was going with that statement. “i like things as they are, and i don’t seek anything outrageous. status quo isn’t so bad. does that make me boring?”

there’s an air of mystery around haeil in yilin’s opinion, even as honest statements are uttered. terribly fond, yilin has found himself around the other when there is free time to be had. despite being so easily distracted with the other’s presence, he must admit - it’s more distracting to be away. this lull that guides him here, but it is haeil that keeps him here. it feels... safe. where there is self-doubt, it seems to be dispelled. his grip tightens where they lay at the other’s sides, as if to silently say never let me go; words left unspoken. one day, when he’s braver. his sights don’t leave the other’s, and he wonders if haeil can see right through him, his hesitation, the thoughts in his mind clear as day, and despite it all, his heart barren for all to see.

– light plays with the vision before him. it bathes the other’s figure with the right touch of warmth it softens their edges, makes eyes seem brighter, skin softer. haeil’s fingers twitch under his cheek. it is the seventh time fate has recreated this very same image into existence and while haeil is grateful he gets another shot at happiness in spite of a long, cursed life, he is also fearful this may be the last one.

   light slips through the cracks but it doesn’t stay for long. earth moves and changes the position. soon enough, the charm of the golden hour slips out of their reach through the same cracks. they are left alone, together. haeil’s hand reaches for the other’s, he entwines their fingers together and smiles as the contact increases the warmth settling inside his chest —the same one that has to remain in the cold when the familiarity of the other’s existence is nothing but a memory to carry until their next reunion.

   ❛ this color suits you, ❜ he smiles, mischievous as he takes the fluffy pink boa next to him and snakes it around the other’s shoulders. ❛ this is why i always tell you that a glamorous life wouldn’t be so bad. extravagance would cease to be a luxury. we could be outrageous and it would still be cool. ❜ it’s not good to get distracted by the gloominess of their future, he decides, fingers pulling onto the scarf to bring the other closer until their faces are inches away from each other. he brushes the tip of his nose against the other’s, gentle and playful. ❛ do you believe in destiny? ❜ 

with UNKNOWN ( @yixingxing​ ) .

                 “𝒉𝒐𝒕 𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒌, 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒆𝒓𝒕𝒂𝒊𝒏?” the colour doesn’t distract him as much as the act of being within haeil’s company, a constant comfort regardless of what they were doing in the moment. even when it involves silly things like this. a gentle smile caresses his features as he takes in the sight of the man before him as their hands touch, practically having to resist to lean in. a peculiar pull is the best way to put it, there’s always something that has yilin gravitating to haeil even from when they first met, everything inexplicably falling into place. 

“extravagance and glamour is not necessary, it would be pleasant no matter what...” yilin trails off, eyes turning to crescents as he muses, “riches could disappear in the snap of a finger, but i can see the appeal in a luxurious life.” especially in his teen-age youth, he put much importance on outward appearances, too much so, to the extent where he could have been considered a complete fraud; but now, he’d like to think he’s more comfortable with where he is in life. though it helps to have someone so comforting who accepts him for who he is, wholly. he thinks. so poor is the touch of self doubt that always hinders him half the time, and he prays to whichever superior beings there are for the other’s patience with him.