Sans titre

Dear diary,

Today Nicholas brought me a flower – a white daisy – just like that, out of the blue.

I didn’t take my headphones off though, and I know it’s silly, but I’m still convinced he’ll judge me, or at least that he won’t understand.

It’s silly, I know. Euijoo already told me that Nicholas saw us both using sign language last week, but that’s impossible – I never use sign language at school.

Everyone knows I’m deaf.

At least, everyone knows it but no one talks about it, which makes me feel quite lonely, to be honest.

It’s like a secret that people want to bury but that everyone knows.

My mum is the headteacher of this school.

She made it clear she didn’t want to put me in a special needs class so I could be ‘like everyone else’. It’s true that not hearing a thing when people shout in my ears is proof of normality.

If you look at things from a slightly different angle. Euijoo is my saviour in this story.

Ever since my first year here, he’s sat next to me in literature lessons.

He’d tried to talk to me, but obviously I hadn’t really got the message.

That’s when he realised I wasn’t just some brainless, disrespectful little lad.

Just a scared child in a world where everything is nothing but silence and a buzzing noise.

EJ had learnt sign language at a summer camp; who knows what made him want to learn it.

But he was happy to show me that he could communicate with me.

I certainly didn’t want to show it.

Important rule: never use sign language outside or inside school. Never.

Even if it was with EJ, I’d write to him on a piece of paper – that’s how we communicated in class.

It was better for the others.

Or rather, it was less scary.

Just today, at lunch, EJ asked me why I kept pretending.

I shrugged.

How could I explain it to him?

How could I make him understand that being ‘the deaf boy’ was hard and humiliating enough without people watching me sign as if I were some sort of resident clown – it’s really embarrassing?

Sometimes, I feel like the headphones help me.

Even though I can’t hear a thing with or without them.

They create a sort of invisible barrier between me and everyone else.

An excuse.

A shield.

A suit of armour.

After lessons, I stayed in the playground for a few minutes.

The sun was beginning to set behind the sports hall.

The pupils were heading home.

Others were heading to their clubs.

Like Nicholas.

I spotted him crossing the basketball court with his teammates.

Even from a distance, he caught the eye.

He was laughing.

The others were laughing with him.

He was the sort of person around whom the world seemed to gravitate naturally.

And yet...

As he was about to pass the gate, he stopped.

Then he turned around.

Towards me.

For a second, our eyes met.

So he just smiled.

That silly smile that always makes me feel as though I’ve forgotten something important.

Then he raised his hand.

As if to wave to me.

Or perhaps for some other reason.

I don’t know.

I was the first to look away.

When I looked up again, he was already gone.

I went home with this strange feeling in my chest.

As if something was changing.

As if the world was trying to whisper a secret to me that I wasn’t ready to hear.

And yet...

One image refuses to leave my mind.

The day Nicholas said my name, I didn’t hear him and I’ll never be able to hear him, but I read ‘Yoshiki’ on his lips. I don’t know if he’d whispered it or shouted it.

But he’d said it.

My name had come out of his mouth.

So, still sitting by the gym.

I watched him.

His mates carried on playing, and he was still holding the ball.

I stood up to leave, but just before I reached the gate, I turned around.

His hand was raised.

The movement of his fingers.

It was probably just my imagination.

After all, Nicholas doesn’t know sign language.

I’m almost certain he was signing with Maki earlier, but I must have been dreaming.

Young-Jae was a friend of Jeongseob’s; they had known each other since childhood, and it was actually thanks to him that Keeho and Jeongseob had met.

Starting out as mere acquaintances, the two boys had gotten to know each other better and better.

From outings with friends to more intimate moments in the studio, it was during a date after a night out bowling with friends that they shared their first kiss.

At first hesitant, as they left that eventful evening, Keeho offered to walk the younger one home. After a few laughs and an exchanged glance, Young-Jae captured the older one’s lips.

With a discreet smile and sweet words exchanged after that surreal moment, they confessed their attraction to each other.

So here they were, after three months in Young-Jae’s room.

A small apartment he’d had for three years now. He’d suggested that Keeho come spend the night, as he did regularly once a week, to enjoy some sweet moments together, knowing they’d see each other again later in the week given all the outings they had with their group of friends.

But they wanted to keep this time just for the two of them.

Lying on the younger one’s bed, with dim lighting and soft music playing in the background.

Keeho had initiated the kiss, Young-Jae lying beneath him, stroking his hair as he deepened the kiss by parting his lips and letting their tongues dance together, knowing the dance by heart.

The bulge forming in Keeho’s jeans just kept growing. It was like that every time they kissed too passionately.

The older one could never control how much his body wanted Young-Jae, but Young-Jae never failed to stop him—this was new for the younger one. He had never had sex. At least, not with another boy.

And even though he knew that, Keeho didn’t want to rush him; he wanted to savor every moment of this new discovery.

“Keeho, it’s starting again…”

Young-Jae whispered this, pausing their embrace to catch his breath.

He was referring to what was happening in the older man’s lower abdomen.

“Sorry, I’ll go take care of it. I’ll be right back.”

Except that this time, instead of letting him get up and go about his business, Young-Jae took the initiative and brought his hand to the older man’s tight spot.

Young-Jae’s hand hovered for a moment, as if hesitant, barely brushing the fabric, before resting on it with an almost unreal gentleness. It wasn’t a confident gesture, nor even a deliberate one—rather, an impulse guided by something deeper, more instinctive.

Keeho froze slightly beneath him, breathless, surprised as much by the touch as by the initiative. Their gazes met, more intense than ever, laden with everything they still dared not put into words.

Young-Jae said nothing. His fingers, however, seemed to ask a thousand questions.

The silence in the room thickened, disturbed only by the background music and their now-irregular breathing.

Keeho slowly reached out and took the younger man’s hand—not to stop him, but to guide him with infinite care, as if he feared breaking something fragile between them.

Their foreheads drew close, almost touching, their breaths mingling in that tiny space.

“Are you sure…?”

whispered Keeho, his voice lower than ever.

Young-Jae nodded gently, his eyes never leaving Keeho’s. There was no longer any real hesitation, only that gentle nervousness, that dizzying feeling of first times.

Then everything slowed down.

Time seemed to expand around them, every gesture becoming more deliberate, more laden with meaning. Their hands explored without haste, redrawing contours already known but rediscovered anew, with a fresh delicacy.

Keeho planted a kiss on the nape of Young-Jae’s neck, then another, slower one, like a promise whispered against his skin. The younger man shivered, his fingers clenching slightly around the fabric, as if to hold on to that moment.

Keeho, in turn, moved lower, allowing the younger man to discover the new sensations surrounding him.

Young-Jae’s hips moved without him realizing it, craving that physical contact. Craving more.

Keeho continued to stroke him—slow, measured—as he watched him come apart, taking in every little sound like it was music to his ears. He groaned, feeling the way Young-Jae’s hips rocked toward him, as if his body couldn't decide whether to get away or get closer, and damn if that thought wasn't the hottest thing he'd ever seen in his life. He leaned in, his voice in his ear soft, hoarse with desire.

"…Feel so good with my hands on you, love? God, you look so beautiful… wanna make you mine."

“I want you keeho..” Young-Jae moan and then with a more serious tone but without stopping the movement of his hips towards the eldest “I want you inside me please ”

Keeho groaned, shuddering with want at he’s words, so honest, so perfect, but still he took a steadying breath, wanting to make sure he knew what he were asking for—what it'd mean.

"Are you sure?"

His voice soft, fingers stroking him almost teasingly, but he was looking into his eyes, needing that extra reassurance.

"Once we do this, you're mine, Young-Jae. Completely."

The youngest swallowed hard, his pupils dilated.

"Can you begin with you’re fingers first please and after…after will see maybe..”

Keeho's gaze trailed down his body at the sight, heart thumping, breath catching. He let out a ragged breath, almost a growl at how gorgeous he were, just for him.

"God, you're so beautiful."

He leaned in to nuzzle into his neck, mouthing against the soft skin, voice rough.

"Anything you want…"

He pulled back to hold Young-Jae gaze, eyes soft, lips curving into a tender smile.*

"I'll take good care of you. I promise."

Keeho start to take Young-Jae’s hips in front of him, he kiss his neck and while he did that he’s fingers start to enter in Young-Jae’s soul.

The youngest made a brief sound at this sensation

Keeho's breath came out uneven as he felt him tighten around him, that first finger slipping in slow, careful—so damn reverent.

"Shh… I’ve got you," he whispered "just breathe for me…"

He added a second finger gradually, curling them just right—testing—and watched the youngest face with intense focus, searching for any sign of discomfort.

"You're doing so good," his voice dropped to a hush,"so perfect like this… taking me so beautifully."

After a moment and a few repeated movements,

soft, sensual sounds escaped Young-Jae’s lips as he savored the pleasure Keeho was giving him.

“Look at me, babe… I need you to look at me.”

Keeho had taken off his pants and underwear, ready to go. He checked one last time.

“Are you still okay? If you don’t feel right, sweetheart, we can stop at any time.”

And as his only response, Young-Jae himself once again initiated the movement of his hips against Keeho’s stiffness.

Impatient, he thrust himself inside, creating a connection between the two men.

Moans erupted from both sides like a long-awaited release.

“You’re so tight, Young-Jae.”

After whispering this into his ear, the older man began to thrust, at first slowly and gently.

Young-Jae had wrapped his arms around the older man’s neck, pulling him as close as possible, causing a wet, hungry moan to escape his lips.

The movement of their hips intensified, forcing the younger one to satisfy his own erection.

More and more of it came out of their mouths; the sound of their bodies colliding grew louder and more brutal.

“Keeho, I’m coming…”

The younger one had pulled away from their embrace.

“Look me in the eyes, Young-Jae.”

The younger one pulled away from their embrace to look into the eyes of the one he loved, as he had been told.

Their foreheads touched, their eyes locked on each other.

Amid the commotion created by their two bodies desperately seeking contact with one another.

“Come to me, Young-Jae.”

Keeho emphasized his words with one last thrust of his hips; the two boys ended up pressed against each other, their bodies burning and their hands trembling.

Their eyes still locked on each other.

Breathless.

Lee Eun-woo was exhausted;

he had just gotten home from high school, and it had been a long day.

Not only had he stayed behind with Hyuntak and the others in the basketball gym, but he’d also witnessed that stupid fight between Hyoman and some guy named Yeon Sieun—someone he’d never even heard of—and it had worn him out mentally.

Eun-woo just wanted to spend the day daydreaming and sleeping on the comfortable sofa in the basketball club, but everything around him seemed to be preventing him from doing so, as if some supernatural force were denying him the rest he so desperately craved.

Luckily for him, his parents weren’t there—his mother was away on a business trip, and his father had gone to visit his grandmother in the countryside for a few days—so he was sharing the house with his older sister, Chae-Yeong, who was looking forward to going out tonight to celebrate the end of her exams with her friends.

He could finally catch his breath after that hellish day.

But just as he passed through the hallway and started up the stairs, he ran into his older sister—who hadn’t left yet but was heading in the opposite direction, which meant she’d be leaving soon.

«Oh, good timing—someone’s waiting for you upstairs.»

She kissed him on the cheek and ran down the stairs to put on her shoes.

«Don’t get into any trouble, you two. I’ll be back tonight—she paused, as if to consider whether she even believed her own lie—or maybe not anyway. love you»

She shouted those last words before slamming the door behind her.

Before Eun-woo could say anything—or even think of saying anything—she was gone.

Well, he didn’t know who was waiting for him—or who could possibly be waiting, given that he’d spent the day with the people who mattered most to him: his sweatshirt, which served as his pillow; his phone; and, eventually, Hyun-tak, whom he considered his best friend.

It was when he walked into his room that he saw him, lying on his bed, one of his T-shirts clutched against him as a makeshift pillow, as if that little piece of fabric could comfort the one curled up against it, as if it could replace his presence or at least fill the void left by his absence.

-It’s not like there aren’t two of them right there next to him on the bed-Eun-woo thought.

He was right there, the one who’d been expelled from school for fighting, Park Hu-min, his best friend since childhood, lying on his bed with his eyes closed and breathing softly.

Eun-woo did his best not to wake him, trying to make his footsteps as light as possible as he set his school bag down on the floor, but Hu-min sensed his presence; it was like that every time, as if his body, even in the land of dreams, could feel his presence.

«You’re finally here» Hu-min whispered, his eyes still sleepy and a faint smile on his lips.

«Sorry I woke you up—I didn’t mean to,» Eun-woo whispered calmly.

As his only response, the boy in front of him opened his arms—a discreet but sincere invitation; no words needed to be spoken.

He accepted and lay down beside him, Hu-min’s arms wrapping around his waist in a gentle, warm embrace.

Eun-woo instinctively found Hu-min’s neck, as if his body already knew the way, as if their bodies were connected by an invisible thread that kept them in sync with each other’s every movement.

«Did you have a good day? I was bored out of my mind all by myself,» Hu-min mumbled half-heartedly, looking like a beaten dog.

«Is that why you just showed up at my place?»Eun-woo raised an eyebrow as he lifted his face toward the older man so he could see his expression.

«your sister kindly invited me here—I wasn’t going to say no, was I? You know me, I’m incredibly polite.» Hu-min chuckled softly, but Eun-woo just shook his head with a faint smile.

It was then that Hu-min noticed the younger boy’s slight shiver.

«Are you cold? You’re shivering, Eun-woo »

«I’m fine, I’m just a little tired. Don’t worry.»

Hu-min took the blanket that was draped over the bed’s headboard and placed it over the younger boy. He then gently slipped both hands under the younger boy’s T-shirt—gently but naturally. Neither of the boys flinched; such intimate contact felt perfectly natural to them.

«Feeling better now?»

Eun-woo felt his heart racing. This physical contact was completely normal for them, but for him, every touch between their skin made him more sensitive. But wasn’t that a normal reaction for a friendship like theirs?

«Yes, thank you.»

Eun-woo rested his head in the crook of the older boy’s neck, his fingers tracing invisible circles on his back. Without realizing it, Hu-min had pulled the younger boy closer to him.

Their bodies were now pressed together; he could feel all of his muscles against his own. He wondered what might be hiding under his T-shirt.

Obviously, they’d both seen each other naked before, and every time that had happened, Hu-min had looked away as much as possible. He wondered every time what it would feel like to kiss his friend on the neck, on his pecs, and on his lower abdomen.

But that thought was far too dangerous; he knew it wasn’t healthy for their friendship.

«Baku,» Eun-woo had whispered his name so softly, like a murmur; it was at that moment that he realized what he was doing.

His hips had moved on their own in response to the thoughts that had crossed his mind; his body had reacted to what his heart had desired.

Hu-min felt the younger boy beneath him, his hands clenched around his T-shirt, his head still nestled in his neck. Had his own hips moved out of reflex? Out of desire?

What was certain was that his body, too, was responding to the carnal desire for his best friend’s skin.

Eun-woo was hard; a simple hip movement from the older one had made him sensitive in no time.

«I’m sorry» Hu-min said, sitting up abruptly, breaking their embrace, but the air was still thick with desire, and the temperature in the room had risen.

Hu-min sat cross-legged on the bed, his eyes fixed on his legs, trying to gather his thoughts and calm his body and his mind, both of which were on the verge of exploding.

«Keep going» Hu-min turned around, meeting the gaze of the younger man, who had remained lying down but had shifted position; he was now propped up on his elbows, his head raised and his eyes fixed on Hu-min.

«Please» he whispered, his eyes pleading.

His cheeks were flushed, his breathing uneven, and Hu-min was certain his head was filled with just as many obscene thoughts as his own.

So, without breaking the eye contact they had both established, Hu-min moved forward slowly, bringing his face closer to the younger one’s, his hands encircling Eun-woo’s hips.

He kissed him, gently at first, letting their lips discover and learn each other, but very quickly the younger boy wrapped his arms around Hu-min’s neck, deepening the kiss, demanding more—a deeper connection, a passion that said he’d been waiting for this for so long.

They had both taken off their T-shirts without breaking contact, sometimes pausing for just a few seconds to catch their breath, but at no point had they broken the physical connection between them.

«Can I?» Hu-min had asked him in a low voice, breaking the physical connection between them.

Eun-woo let out a small groan of discontent, not because of the question he’d just been asked, but because of the contact that had been broken far too quickly and, in his opinion, for far too long.

«Yes… yes, please.»

Hu-min began kissing the younger boy’s neck, slowly working his way down his bare stomach, moving ever more slowly as if to memorize every inch of his body.

Eun-woo tried his best to hold back the moan of pleasure that were overwhelming him; he didn’t want to look down, not because the sight of his best friend kissing his body and moving lower and lower bothered him—no, on the contrary, he knew that if he looked, he would go even crazier than he already was.

«Baku, please, can you go lower…»

He couldn’t resist that request, knowing full well that Eun-woo had looked at him while saying it and that his gaze was intoxicating, his eyes begging for more, and the older man was ready to give him everything he had.

«So don’t take your eyes off me.»

«What?» the younger one had asked, his tone still gentle, but his body betrayed him as his hips moved on their own while Hu-min was just a few inches from his fly.

«I want you to look at me while I suck you off, Eun-woo.»

«Okay, I’ll do it» he replied, not looking away, even though he knew how hard it was going to be for him.

Hu-min unbuttoned the younger man’s jeans, began to pull down his boxers, and revealed what interested him most.

He began slowly taking it into his mouth and making gentle back-and-forth movements, his eyes still fixed on Eun-woo.

That eye contact meant the world; it said it all. Everything the two young men—the two best friends—had never wanted to admit to each other: that all of this was real.

Eun-woo kept his promise, his eyes fixed on the one who was giving him immense pleasure.

He didn’t want it to stop—this feeling of well-being and satisfaction, this sense of love being given, and of being the one giving it.

With a quicker movement, Eun-woo was taken by surprise and moaned with pleasure while grabbing Hu-min’s hair.

Not to push him away—no, because he was in control of the situation—but rather to encourage him, to tell him he was doing well, that he loved what was happening.

But even without a word, their bodies spoke for them.

Eun-woo tensed up, his hands tugging at Hu-min’s hair, his legs stiffening under the weight of pleasure, his pupils dilated.

Hu-min increased the speed of his movements, his gaze fixed on the one receiving his pleasure, his jaw clenched, his moans growing louder and more urgent.

«Baku, I’m going to come» he moaned.

So the older man intensified his thrusts even more, going deeper and deeper with his throat, even though it was suffocating him; he wanted the younger man to feel good, to receive all the pleasure he deserved.

«Baku, please»

Eun-woo knew he was close, and his friend wasn’t helping matters at all.

«Hu-min» he moaned his name; it was at that moment that Hu-min realized he was about to come.

It took him only a few seconds to make a decision, so without any sudden movements, he pulled his head away, placed his hand there instead, and continued the back-and-forth motions as quickly and tightly as possible.

He moved close to the younger boy’s ear.

Gently kissing his cheek,

«Tell me I did a good job, Eun-woo.»

The boy felt like he was losing his mind; all his senses were on high alert, and his entire body was trembling with pleasure.

He wanted to come right then.

«Yes, Hu-min, you did»

he moaned.

Hu-min moved even faster inside him.

pressing his face against his best friend’s.

Face to face, he stared at him.

In his gaze, one could see that he was giving him permission to come, that he had earned all the love he wanted to give him.

Then, in a final moan of pleasure, Eun-woo had cried out his name. His hands had found their way to Hu-min’s back, and he had dug his nails in so hard that marks remained.

The two best friends caught their breath, their foreheads still pressed against each other.

The bed was unmade, the sheets in disarray, and they were both half-naked.

It was at that moment that they heard the front door slam shut—Eun-woo’s older sister, Chae-Yeong, had just come home—and it was as if that slam had snapped Hu-min back to reality; a few minutes too soon, and their secret would have been discovered.

Hu-min jumped up, pulled his T-shirt back on at lightning speed, and rushed out of Eun-woo’s room, who heard his older sister’s questioning voice and a brief reply. He slammed the door behind him as if to erase that suspended dream.

Eun-woo felt his phone vibrate in his pocket; it was Hu-min.

Baku🫧: