under the sky in room 553 i discovered you and i

6

"Hyung! Come sit, quickly." Beomgyu hurriedly patted the space next to him on his bed, tucking his legs and positioning the guitar atop his lap.
Yeonjun calmly closed the bedroom door, a brow raised as he made his way over. Apparently, it was too slow for Beomgyu's liking, because the pat immediately grew more impatient. "What's the rush? It's not like you're going anywhere!"
"Just shut up and come sit, I have something cool to show off." The younger proudly grinned, swiftly producing a guitar pick from his hoodie pocket once Yeonjun was where he wanted him to be. "Well, actually, it's just a new song I discovered. I spent all night learning the melody!"
This earned him an amused chuckle as Yeonjun leaned back, an arm supporting himself when he regarded the boy with a tilted head. "For me? That's adorable."
"Not for you! It's not always about you, God—" Beomgyu let out an exaggerated groan, trying his best to make it convincing when in reality his heart almost jumped at being found out. "Sure, sure. Whatever. Let's hear it, musician."
Beomgyu only shot him a look before clearing his throat, positioning his fingers for the first chord. Silence momentarily enveloped them as he mentally prepared himself. Somehow, this felt more intimate than it should be.
Relax, it's just you playing your best friend a song. It has no deeper meaning beyond that.
Yet, when he was about to sing, he caught Yeonjun staring at him like he saw right through him. Beomgyu felt awfully barren, like his soul was stripped naked. A blush crept up his neck, burning the tip of his ears. He averted his gaze, now intensely staring at his guitar strings, head hung low.
But he sang anyway, because the tension in the silence was beginning to take his mind places he'd rather not be. Not when Yeonjun was in the same room.
Just what was wrong with him?
"Remember the way you made me feel,"
Was it because they were both going through puberty that he was suddenly feeling this way about his best friend? Or had it been there all along, but he was too indifferent and naive to notice?
"Such young love but, something in me knew that it was real,"
Was it because of their changing looks? Or Yeonjun losing his baby fat and hitting his growth spurt?
"Frozen in my head. Pictures I'm living through for now,"
Did he get more handsome? And since when were his features so defined? Had his lips always been this pouty?
"Trying to remember all the good times. Our life was cutting through so loud,"
Then, Beomgyu did something he knew he would regret in hindsight—he looked up. The consequences caught up to him faster than he would have liked, because the look in Yeonjun's eyes that he was met with almost made him short-circuit.
"Memories are playing in my dull mind I, hate this part, paper hearts,"
Had he always stared at him like that? Even when he wasn't looking?
Beomgyu realised a heartbeat later that he'd rather not know the answer to that question.
"And I'll hold a piece of yours,"
The boy looked away, internally reprimanding himself for letting his voice go off-pitch. Even so, a pair of eyes still burned holes through the back of his head.
"Don't think I would just forget about it,"
How come Yeonjun's stare was so intense that he could still feel it even when he wasn't looking? Or was he making it all up in his head?
"Hoping that you won't forget."
He took in a shaky breath as his voice dimmed, and then there was silence. Beomgyu just sat there, holding onto his guitar for dear life like it could help him anchor his racing thoughts. He didn't dare look up, afraid that he would burst if he did. So he waited.
And waited. And waited. Until he couldn't bear the silence anymore, because now he was beginning to second-guess if he sounded totally awful and Yeonjun just couldn't bring himself to lie to him.
But once he finally raised his head, Yeonjun was just sitting there—unmoving from his position like he was freeze-framed. Beomgyu, on the other hand, was going to combust out of frustration. He almost threw his guitar away—or at the older—just so he could garner the slightest indication of a reaction from him.
Except Yeonjun was just avidly staring at Beomgyu's lips. And when Beomgyu caught that, his heart hammered all the way up to his eardrums.
His desperation to break the tension gave him the courage to speak. "Was it that bad?"
Like he was broken from a spell, Yeonjun snapped out of his trance and finally met his eyes. "What? No, no. It was good. I had no idea you could sing this well."
"What do you take me for, a cow?" Beomgyu faked an exasperated groan, taking this opportunity to climb out of the bed to put his guitar away. He needed all the distance he could use between him and Yeonjun right now, since something odd bloomed in his chest the longer the boy was close to him. Beomgyu did not recognise that feeling, so by default he didn't like it.
"A cow sings better, I'm sure." Chimed Yeonjun from behind him, and Beomgyu responded with an unimpressed noise. "Anyway, do you want to hear the original?" He asked, reaching for the album laying beside his DVD player.
"Sure. What's it called?"
"Paper Hearts," he answered, putting the CD in the extender and pushing it back into the contraption. "By Tori Kelly. It's my favourite song right now. I bought her EP because I found her on Soundcloud."
He pressed the play button, then turned to head back toward the bed. The action should not frighten him as much as it did now, because it was his bed—the one he slept in daily. The older was the guest, not him.
But with Yeonjun being on it right now, his bed had never felt more foreign. Don't be silly, Beomgyu. We shared our beds our entire lives.
Yet, it was like Choi Yeonjun was put into this world solely just to make his life worse; because the older laid down and made himself comfortable, audacious enough to pat the space right next to him. "Come lay down, quickly."
Beomgyu immediately recognised this as an imitation of himself and regretted it instantly. But Yeonjun was staring at him expectantly, and Beomgyu realised then that a defeat was already written in stone for him.
The lyrics began to play in the background as Beomgyu plopped down beside Yeonjun. They were both taller now, their heights making them an awkward fit for a bed that used to perfectly accommodate them just a year ago.
He never had a problem being skin to skin with Yeonjun—but why was it getting harder for him just to breathe with each passing second?
His mind began to descend into haywire. Maybe it was just puberty, but he noticed that Yeonjun no longer had that baby powder smell. Why did he have body odor now? And had he always smelled like pine and sandalwood?
Beomgyu could no longer keep up. His brain was shooting a million questions in a million different directions, all of which he knew he would not want to be answered. Nonetheless, his head refused to slow down.
The younger was lying straight like a ruler, hands clasped at the middle of his stomach like he was practicing his position in a coffin. He stared at the ceiling of his bedroom like it was the most interesting mural in the world, not even daring to steal a glance at the boy next to him.
Because if he caught him staring again, Beomgyu wasn't sure what it would end up doing to him this time.
Then, like a pebble thrown at a glass window, Yeonjun's voice shattered his train of thoughts. "Beomgyu, have you ever been curious about what it's like to kiss someone?"
Beomgyu's chest tightened so badly he was almost convinced a knot was closing in on his throat. "Why? Do you have someone you want to kiss?"
This earned him an unreadable glance from the older. Slowly after, Yeonjun shook his head and tucked a hand underneath it as a makeshift pillow. "No, not really. I'm just wondering what it'd feel like."
"That's odd," he commented, trying his absolute best to steer this conversation into normalcy. He was pushing himself up with one arm now, leaning on his side and facing the older. "Is it because Taehyun got his first kiss the other day? In the school playground with—what's his face—Hueningkai?"
Yeonjun chuckled at the recount. "I heard it was an accident too." Then, there it was again; that look in Yeonjun's eyes that Beomgyu was unable to read. It frustrated him to no end, because no matter what it was, Beomgyu could always read him.
He was beginning to hate puberty. They'd been together their entire lives, just what would he not know about Choi Yeonjun?
"Man, imagine having your first kiss be an accident. That'd be so sad." He tried his best to respond like he was as nonchalant as he hoped he looked, because Yeonjun's gaze was beginning to make him come undone. The frantic churns at the pit of his stomach did not assist him one bit in his personal mission.
"How would Beomgyu imagine his first kiss to go?" Said Yeonjun, tone smug as he leaned on his side too.
God, anything but that pet name. Not right now. "Hm... I'd want it to be meaningful. With someone important. Someone that means a lot, I guess?"
"Ooh, I didn't take you to be the romantic type." The older boy teased with a chuckle, in which he just responded with a roll of his eyes.
Then, Beomgyu didn't know if he imagined it, but Yeonjun's gaze flickered to his lips just as quickly as it returned to him.
"What about you, hyung?"
Yeonjun's chuckle morphed into a small smile. "I'd just want it to be with someone I don't regret. Like, someone I can just experiment my first time with without embarrassment and we laugh it off after. If it's too awkward then I'd just die right there."
This made them both giggle. Something about Yeonjun's answer ignited a foul spark of bravery within him, because the next thing Beomgyu knew, the words had already slipped past his lips.
"Wouldn't that be me?"
The entire room screeched to a halt. Even the background music seemed to fade into silence. The look he was rewarded with made Beomgyu wish the earth would somehow open up and swallow him whole.
Visibly panicking, he attempted to backpedal. "Uh, I mean, it's like—well—"
But Yeonjun just gave him an unbothered shrug. "You're not wrong, actually," And there it was again, the look in his eyes—this time accompanied with a smirk that immediately launched his heart into a frenzy. "You fit all the criteria."
And they both went quiet. The sound of Tori Kelly harmonising in the background seemed to ease back in, the only thing keeping the room from falling into another dreadful silence. Beomgyu felt his entire body spiral, like the bed was disintegrating beneath him. "Then—"
"Do you wanna try it out?" Asked Yeonjun. The boy almost fell face first into his pillow. "We can just... Experiment. Be each other's trial—and if it goes horrible, we'll just laugh it off. At least with you I know it won't be awkward, right?"
Beomgyu wished he could go back in time and just disappear completely, because what left him next was going to set him up for a lifetime of despair he didn't see coming.
But of course, back then it was just a curious him and a curious best friend—and therefore just what could possibly go wrong?
"Right." He managed a half-smile, heart pounding too fast for him to say anything else. The older returned the smile, and Beomgyu's eyes zeroed in on Yeonjun's lips. Something about his expression made him look like he was... Glad. "But you do it first, since you asked."
"Okay. If it's bad, you have to lie to boost my ego." Said the older male as he inched closer. Paper Hearts was still playing in the background—and had Yeonjun always looked this handsome up close?
They were already nose to nose when Beomgyu finally found it in him to throw in a snarky response. "No, I'll laugh at you for the rest of your life."
A low chuckle. Had he always sounded like that? "Then I'll just kiss you to shut you up for the rest of your life."
If his nerves could materialise, his entire bedroom would be filled to the brim right now with his own sweat. "You won't." He challenged, yet his voice was audibly shaking. He'd find it in him to be embarrassed about it later.
Too bad for him Yeonjun was never the type to back down from a challenge. If there was anything one should know about him, it was that he was the most competitive person Beomgyu has ever known.
"I will, actually." Was the last thing he heard before the entire world gravitated onto him in the form of lips pressed flush against his. A touch so gentle, yet Beomgyu felt like he was hit with a thousand bricks.
Has his heart always beated this fast whenever Yeonjun was this close? Has his bedroom always been this stuffy?
He found himself eventually giving up trying to answer those questions; because as soon as the boy's lips began to move against his own, the only thing Beomgyu could find it in him to focus on was remembering how to breathe.
Flustered wouldn't even come close to describing the state Beomgyu was in. He was at a loss, a wretched mess of a thousand knots in place of his body—all coming loose under the manoeuvre of Choi Yeonjun's lips.
How long had he been laying on his back? Had Yeonjun been on top of him the entire time? Had his hair always been this soft trapped between his fingers? Had his touches always been this warm? Had it been hours already, or was it just a minute ago when Yeonjun walked into his room? He couldn't tell.
In the background, Tori Kelly was on her last verse of the song, her voice sounding as if she was serenading them. Years later, Beomgyu would look back and question whether it was a serenade of the beginning of something more, or mourning for the end of something less.
When the older boy retreated that time, Beomgyu wasn't sure if the only thing he pulled back were just his lips anymore. "How was it?"
"Horrible." He lied. He hoped to God it was convincing. The arrogant smile on Yeonjun's lips told him it wasn't. "Oh? Are you gonna laugh at me?"
At his words, a faint chuckle escaped Beomgyu. He would rather take it to his grave than tell Yeonjun that his laughter wasn't out of spite. "You little punk."
"Don't kiss me again, you're an awful kisser!" He tried to turn away, pushing Yeonjun off of him.
But had Yeonjun ever been this strong? Or was he just momentarily weakened by the look in his eyes?
Had Yeonjun always looked at him like he was the centre of his world, or was it just the illusion of the moment playing tricks on Beomgyu's muddled mind?
"Choi Beomgyu, I will never let you breathe easy again." He whispered vengefully, flipping them over with ease. His hands were securely clamped on either sides of Beomgyu's hips—had his hands always been this big?—and the younger was forced to straddle him. He wasn't even given a chance to make his witty comeback, because his lips were yet again occupied before a sound could be emitted.
In hindsight, Beomgyu feared that Yeonjun might have meant his words too literally.
Being fourteen was a confusing time.