BOY SCOUT. － s.yh + j.jh

13: entry seventy-six

Despite having comprehended his feelings towards Youngho, nothing had really changed. Things remained as they were, until the following February came about and their promise had resurfaced in both of their minds. Until then, they'd only embraced and cuddled as they typically would, and kissed perhaps twice, both being savoured by the two but in secret.

When the date hit the 9th of the second month, as usual Yoonoh had spent the whole day with the birthday boy, glued to his side even throughout their walk around town and to the arcade with his friends. By the time they'd gotten home, dinner was almost ready and Yoonoh didn't intend on staying; however, there was something he couldn't deny wanting. It made him giddy and it itched under his flesh, made the tips of his ears dust with pink and his pulse quicken.

On the doorstep to the older's house they both stopped, standing silently in the dim porch light that cascaded around them like a honey waterfall, knowing what was coming next and in part fearing it, in part longing for it.

Yoonoh took a step nearer and, rising onto his toes, planted a chaste kiss on Youngho's full lips, sighing faintly through his nose as the warmth that always came with their kisses filled him, coursed through his every vein and bubbled in his heart.

When they pulled apart, his hazy eyes met with the sight of an at ease black head, his lids drooped low enough to be shut and his mouth still marginally parted. Yoonoh stared at him, took in the expression that adorned him until said boy's irises were revealed and locked with the former's.

"Happy birthday, Johnny," he mumbled shyly, his gaze flitting to the floor.

"Thanks, Yoon," came the just as hushed response, and then Youngho was unlocking the front door and murmuring goodnight before closing it again.

Yoonoh had some trouble sleeping that night, far too excited about their kiss but also conflicted about what to do. He thought as he tossed about on his bed, clutched his pillow and stared up at the ceiling with unseeing eyes.

He realised that after the event Youngho appeared more tense around him again, and it reminded him of the year prior － something that brought a lingering panic into an ever festering fear.

The days to his own birthday passed both too quickly and too slowly, because Youngho seemed to drift away some days and then come back soon after. It baffled Yoonoh but he didn't question it, and when he turned fifteen all he anticipated, rather than the gifts and hanging out with his scout friends, was having Youngho kiss him.

He supposed he truly did like his friend that way but he didn't mind, eventually it would go away by itself, surely.

And so again, up in his room and with his phone playing music in the background, the two of them seated abreast one another on the floor at the foot of the bed, Youngho flicking through a book the younger had received, Yoonoh continuously peeked at him from his peripheral vision, fumbling with an action figure of Spider-Man that he'd just unpacked.

"I can feel you looking at me, y'know," the black head suddenly said, cutting the relatively awkward silence between them and causing Yoonoh's entire face to glow crimson.

"So-Sorry. . ."

Youngho calmly closed the book and set it down, with a sigh letting his head fall back against the mattress' end.

"You want to kiss, don't you?"

The smaller was abashed that he'd been called out so easily, but didn't hesitate to nod and Youngho let out another breath, allowing his head to flop sideways, directed at the boy beside him.

"Do it."

And Yoonoh leaned forward, twisting his torso and setting his weight on his palms pressed onto the carpeted floor, the last thing he saw being Youngho's eyes falling shut and his own face drawing nearer.

He noticed it almost instantly, a change from their typically shared kisses. This felt oddly more important, needy, desperate, and then the older was holding him gently by the neck, forcing the brunet to be impossibly close. It lasted longer too, both of them simply staying pressed together and barely breathing, yet enjoying the moment nonetheless.

Eventually, Youngho pulled away, and even with his rattled mind and erratic emotions, Yoonoh didn't take long to spot the slight strain in the former's jaw, the hint of sadness in his eyes.

"We should really stop doing this," he soon said, his warm palm sliding away, leaving Yoonoh cold, and the boy remained stock still, unblinking, because the worst thing that could happen was happening and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

He knew Youngho was right, of course he did, but he didn't want to let this all go, he didn't want this to stop.

"Okay," was what he said, voice meek and features forced deadpan.

Youngho arched a brow, looking back at him as he had turned to the book forgotten in his lap.

"I thought － I thought you would be sadder."

"I am sad, but it's fine if you'll be happy."

His seventy-sixth entry was brief, but heavy with tears he had spilt onto the only partially filled page. Perhaps he was going to lose Youngho.

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