The Ocean and the Moon

Chapter 2: August

"What if I put my hand like this?" C asks.

H looks down at C's hand as it makes its way up his right arm, grabbing his elbow, pulling gently. He looks back up and lets out the breath he's been holding. C's face is very close to his. His eyes are a warm shade of brown and they look kind.

"Yeah, alright," he whispers.

Dae would do that, H thinks of C's character. He shakes his head slightly, trying to come back to the room, the first workshop, the cast and crew either watching or busy working on something else. Bringing his mind back from where it seemed to exist solely at the surface of his skin where C's hand brushed against him. He takes a step back, shakes his head again.

"Sorry, this is a bit -"

"It's my first time doing this kind of thing as well," C says.

And H can't help but ask, "You mean an acting workshop or touching a man?" with a slight smirk.

C smiles an unreadable smile.

"Okay, back to the start of the scene," Nino, the director, announces, clapping twice.

H hopes this feeling is just getting into character, is just feeling close to this HaJun he is playing, the seaside town boy falling in love with the mysterious writer from Seoul. Both C and H take a breath and a step back and start again.

H lets his right hand fall tentatively on C's left arm and inhales.

"What about this?" he asks C, placing his left hand on C's neck.

"I think that feels right," C says quietly.

H tangles his fingers in C's hair at the base of his neck.

"Yeah?" he asks. He looks down into C's eyes. "What are we doing?" he recites from the script.

A lock of his hair falls and covers his eye, but he doesn't dare do anything about it.

"Don't move," C whispers his line.

He slides a hand between them to tuck the hair back behind H's ear. It's so swoon-worthy it takes H out of his transe.

"Great stuff, guys," Nino says.

This is what they want. But searching his past experiences with men, he can't find a single one that looked remotely this tender. He tries to keep a lid on the memories threatening to flood back, of being pressed against walls and touched in dark rooms, blurry faces telling him to be quiet. He clears his throat.

"Ok, so now we kiss?" he says, trying to sound casual.

***

"So how is H?" F asks, his face very close on the phone screen. His accent still feels like home.

"He's - great," C says.

"Yeah? How so?"

"I don't know. He's - talented? And professional?"

"Right. What else?"

"What else?"

"I mean, I don't know. I saw he went to art school. Is he a big snob? Or super weird? Have you been hanging out?"

"You looked him up!"

F shrugs. "Don't judge me, you did it too!"

C thinks for a second. "He doesn't seem like a snob. Or weird. He's kind of doing exactly the same thing we are, really - writing songs, performing."

"I mean, not exactly."

"Yeah, it's like he's doing all this but he's like free. He's doing it in a completely different way. He's an artist and a singer and an actor and he just does it. He didn't need to lock himself up and work 24/7 for 10 years to have a career."