Jongin's back was soaked with sweat. He grimaced at the pain in his hands as he kept shovelling. His shoulders were aching and burnt. His arms, already strong, had been strengthened by the exercise. Again and again, his spade thudding into the soil and throwing it into the hole in the ground, not paying attention to his activity as he shovelled.
He slid a hand down his slippery, bare back and stood up. He looked at his work and made a sound that could only be described as a moan.
Hopeless.
He threw his spade to one side and fell to his knees. His fingers caressed the erect stone.
He pressed his face against the cool granite; cool for summer. He found words etched into one side.
Jongin knew them by heart. He didn't even have to think - even if he'd wanted to - to know them. He'd written them.
All of his tears had been spent, replaced by an ache that consumed his entire body.
His lips found the stone's hard surface and attached themselves. He knew it was useless, but he wanted the lips imprisoned by this merciless block.
He cradled it.
Kicked it.
Cried in pain.
Jongin couldn't do anything. The pain would never stop. It wasn't just in his foot, but in the row of stones before him.
Four.
"And then you just pour it into the pan." Jinki guided Jongin's hands to pour some of the mixture into the frying pan.
The younger gave him a look of complete admiration. "Can I flip it?" he asked, placing a shy kiss on Jinki's nose.
Jinki held Jongin by the waist and kissed him properly, on the lips. Jongin pulled away and nervously ran a hand through his own hair.
"You're so cute," Jinki laughed. He leaned across and whispered in his boyfriend's ear. "Make sure the pancakes don't burn."
Jongin jumped back, as if scalded. "If they are burnt, you're getting those pieces," he giggled.
"We need lemon juice," Jinki said, clicking his fingers. "I'll go to the corner shop."
"Can I come?" Jongin asked, unpinning Jinki's apron.
"I'll just be a minute, and you have to watch the cooker." Jinki paused at the door. "I, um, miss you already."
The door slammed.
And there was a bang.
Jongin lifted his tired head from the stone to look at Jinki's. His first love, his 'high school crush'. Jinki had been a few years older than him, in Sixth Form, yet he'd been so gentle with Jongin's young heart.
And then he was shot.
Jinki had lived in a rough area. There had been gangs.
That was no reason for him to have died.
Next to him was different kind of stone. Jongin pretended it was marble.
Jonghyun deserved nothing less than diamond.
He'd dragged Jongin away from Jinki's grave for a new life, a new love.
Jongin squealed, writhing under Jonghyun's evil fingers. "Get off me! Jjong!"
Jonghyun smirked and straddled the younger boy's waist. "Not until you smile."
"I'm not gonna smile, I'm not gonna smile!" Jongin squealed, pulling his mouth into a straight line defiantly.
