"I'm serious, Hiro-ah."
Jin grumbles in a whining tone. He shut his left eye, shielding his eyeball from Hiro's dampening kisses. A whispered laughter fled from the man's lips.
"Call me dearest just like you used to."
"Did you hear what I said?" Jin paused when Hiro looked at him, expectant. "Dearest."
Is he even listening?
His hands squeezed the man's shoulders when lips had traveled down to the base of his jaw, moist tongue poking wetness to his sensitive skin.
Oh lord. . .
"Hmm?" Hiro presses his ear-to-ear victorious grin to his beloved's neck, right where Jin's pulse responds. His lower lids beam at the very sign of warmth and life, and his bright eyes peek at the young fellow from his rosy cheek. "Carry on, darling." He loves the sound of his voice.
Jin entraps Hiro's face between his palms and pulls the man's head up to take a quick and clear look at his handsome face. They stared at each other's eyes, and he tried extrapolating any hint of a lie in his words. Then, he remembers—the dream—his peculiar dream that transpired after that.
But it was merely a dream.
No—he is sure it was.
"Hiro, did you not leave for Cheon before evening dinner?"
Jin's antsy thoughts swallow him. He remembers his mother invited the man to stay, but Hiro had to decline her offer to leave early prior to the schedule of his flight to Cheon.
It must be. It must be a dream because it would be embarrassing if it were not—to be caught dreaming about something inappropriate. His consciousness had painted him the object of his inner desire when his heart was torn between accepting or denying his feelings towards Hiro.
"Yes, darling, I did."
Hiro responds to his question with a smile, ever-so-obediently, and acknowledges him further with a slow nod. His glistening dark eyes stared at him with no underlying indication of a lie.
His heart plummets. The tissues of his undereye soften.
How could a person look at someone like this—as if nothing else matters?
The anxiety in his heart thaws, and he breathes in relief.
Hiro scoured every corner of Jin's face. His docile eyes stared at his soft beauty quietly in admiration, in awe of the morning flush on his beloved's cheek, mirroring the plumpness of his lips. Vibrant and youthful.
Pretty.
Pale and spotless forehead. Like a treasured porcelain with a worldly threat to plunder. High and thin nose. Round fluttering purple eyes. Hiro's lips quivered. He cups the young fellow's face.
Compact cherry lips with such small and fragile jaws.
His breath hitched, and so did the maddening sensation in his chest. But what was so different—altered from the need to release his confusion through violence.
"Jin-ah. . ." Hiro murmurs his yearning with a shudder of defeat, his soul nowhere near the devil but surrendering to such a beau. He wanted nothing to harm him and nothing to touch him but his own hands and lips.
No one's blood to taint his innocence.
And no sinful eyes to see him.
He slips his tongue out and slides them sensually over the lovely grin on his beloved's lips, surrendering to temptation. His chest tightened abnormally, anxiety thrashing inside his ribcage, for he loathes to speak something for such a lovely sight to disappear.
But lying to Jin would unlace his soul twice.
The rim of his eyes watered in frustration. It was another variant of the cryptic emotion haunting him with its unfamiliarity and threatening his morals to descend back to the dark days—without Jin to breathe and taste candid excitement.
Without happiness, despite the penalty of accepting these unnamed plagues in his chest, which may not develop into anything but insanity.
"Your undercover was blue." He whispers half an inch from Jin's lips, pecking against their softness. He shuts his eyes tightly. Don't be scared of me. "Dolphin imprints."
Please.
Before Jin could ponder and confirm what Hiro said, his fingers clipped and squeezed the skin of the man's cheek. Aigoo, why is he about to cry again? "You just said you left for Cheon." He frowns.
Hiro flinched in place, alarmed, and slowly tilted his head toward his beloved's pinch, worried about hurting his dainty fingers. "I did, darling." His voice lowers to softly convince him, "Perhaps we should not discuss it further?" His finger slips Jin's hair to the back of his ear upon looking at the furrow on his beloved's eyebrows.
Hiro gulps, nervous.
The tips of his fingers tremble lightly.
"Why, Hiro?" Jin pushed to remain calm, but he doubted his expression could cooperate.
Why can he not tell me about it?
"You can't run away."
The anxiety he catches in Hiro's eyes eases his irritancy to worry, "From who, dearest?"
He caressed his face and wiped his undereye with his thumb. They were moist with a little bit of his unshed tears. Hiro freezes and surprisingly avoids his eyes while chewing childishly on his bottom lip before giving him his whispering response.
"Me."
Jin's lips part. He blinked at him in disbelief and pursed his lips, his nose scrunching at his odd cuteness.
From his constant invitation to run away together, and now he is troubling himself with the thought that I would run away from him?
Peeking at him closely, the swelling redness on the rim of Hiro's eyes from tirelessly crying earlier was visible in daylight, but their conversation was back to a week ago in his car and days ago from their shared darkness in the cave—back to Hiro's unsolved source of fear and back to him trying to reassure him.
It was something he did not understand but sympathized with.
In short, it was a distressing cycle.
"And tell me, dearest. Why would I?"
Hiro's chest heaves up heavily, his forming tears threatening to fall once again. "You will come to loathe and fear me."
Hate me.
Hate and afraid to touch me.
Hate and afraid to even see me.
Jin sighed and reached to wipe Hiro's tears, hopeless. The warmth of the man's evident sadness scattered over his fingertips, and a part of his heart ached as if it was stabbed by the sharpest blade, brutal and painful, but it would never be as deep as the wound Hiro carried.
He could not imagine how could the environment of a black-eyed little boy be so cold. His touch went north, pushing his fingers through Hiro's hair, and he felt their slight dampness.
Hiro was starting to sweat and was breathing concerningly too hard.
"How could I ever hate and be afraid of the man I have come to blindly and helplessly love?" His amethyst eyes peek at him only to see his dark pupils continue to shake.
Good, he's listening.
"I chose to trust and adore you willingly." He sadly smiles at him, softly assuring him once more. He, too, carries his own fear. The only thing he was not ready for was losing him to this forbidden love. "Just like you, Hiro. Let me prove that day by day."
How bitter is the fact that fate had denied such unity to happen?
He leans and presses his lips on the corner of Hiro's trembling lips, "What matters is today, and we will face tomorrow together. Just like now. You and me." His eyes stared at him, hoping to reach the scared little boy hiding somewhere inside him. "And the day after that. Day after day. . ." One at a time.
"Day after day," Hiro says, repeating his words with a shaking breath.
Jin smiles and nods at him, "Together."
"Together."
That's right. Jin dries his tears and kisses his cheek. "That's a good boy."
He felt the tension leave Hiro's shoulder, although his tears continued to fall in silence despite their pleas. He remained patient and waited for him to calm down, "Whoever made you think you were easy to hate in the past had failed to understand you, Hiro. And whoever feared you does not deserve to misunderstand you. Do not let anyone who hurt you stop you from accepting more people in your life."
Do not punish yourself like that. Please.
He would be damned to believe how anyone could readily disregard and bully someone as good-looking as Hiro. Daebak. . .(Wow) Perhaps this person must have been absurdly envious. But, at the same time, who was he to easily judge? He could also understand this unknown person's covetousness. If he did not know Hiro could adore him, he would find the man intimidating, too.
If Hiro happened to have not harbored any feelings for him, he would have preferred to stay out of his sight and might adore him secretly from a distance.
"Did someone say they hated you openly from the past? Or have they shown you indications of fear?"
Eomma (Mom), being such an empath is troublesome.
"Everyone did."
Jin's expression changes to hurt. He wraps his arms around Hiro's neck and pulls him into a tight embrace. His lips coddled the side of his face with kisses. Oh, my poor baby. His heart trembled immensely. To think he experienced this while growing up. . .
Hiro's hands sank around Jin's body and exhaled deeply, his heart surging in solace. His nose buries to the shallow curve on his beloved's collarbone, and his thrashing heart slows. However, the bothersome liquid from his eyes only worsened when his fear and frustration were released, with overwhelming ease.
He shuts his lids, attempting to put them to a stop.
He cannot see.
He cannot see his Jin-ah.
"My baby," Jin whispered in whining sympathy, and Hiro lamented in his embrace. His fingers brushed Hiro's hair, his heart crying over the man's quiet struggles. He thought learning about him not having friends growing up was painful enough to bear, but now this? Oh, Hiro.
It might explain his hostility to the people around him.
Hiro must have thought about it, too.
He can finally understand the source of his fear.
A fear of negligence.
The world he lived in. . .It must have been lonely.
"We will take our time." Jin soothes the crease on his brows, and Hiro stares back at him, his eyes and ears attentively attending to his words. "You do not have to tell me everything right now. I am not pressuring or forcing you to, Hiro."
Perhaps that is the reason why he felt so anxious.
Silly, Hiro. "I simply want to get to know the person I love more."
Help me understand you bit by bit.
Hiro's ears tingled upon hearing an affectionate title. His hand lowered willingly to the young fellow's thighs and squeezed him before sliding down and pressing his finger against the metal anklet around Jin's bandaged ankle.
Jin's eyes follow his movements. The anklet cracked open. Hiro slips it out from his ankle and places it in his palm. His purple eyes stare at the item in his hand. It carried the warmth of his skin, and his eyes continued to study it in curiosity. It was plain and simple. It has no engraved designs, gems, or moldings—Just a round, rigid, and flat classic accessory.
"Strange this was beeping in red at the house in the mountains."
"It is an electronic medium." Hiro carefully assessed his reaction.
Jin's lips parted in awe. Electronic medium? He knew it was not a plain accessory. It sounds techy and one he does not know. Then, all of a sudden, it connected the dots. The blue-eyed man, whose hair was dark as auburn in the shadows but bright as a torch when bathed under light—That man had been stealing glances at this anklet.
"I do not remember putting it on me."
Hiro gulped nervously again, licking his tongue over his lips. "I requested Shun to put it on you before you leave the port." He was afraid even amateur pickpockets could steal something from his beloved with a sheer bump of his shoulder.
His focus remained on Jin's eyes, "It meant no harm but your safety." He is glad he did a last-minute design, for his heart could not bear to imagine how he would be able to reach him on time.
Jin's ears perk up at the memory of Shun ahjussi offering to wipe his shoes at the port. Yes, it must have been from that time. His arms instinctively cocoon Hiro when the man suddenly crouches, burying his face in his chest.
He rubs his huge back and continues to praise Shun ahjussi. Amazing, he did not even notice. Ahjussi is a natural. He wonders what type of work Hiro does and what position his dressed-up men do.
Should he ask? Is wearing black a uniform requirement?
"So an electronic medium is a tracker?" Jin pinched the metal and lifted it against a bright background, and he realized it was not a simple stained metal.
Hiro pauses. "Somehow?" He inhales the scent of Jin's body deeply.
Jin wanted to bury his nose on Hiro's hair too, but his injury prevented him from moving his head. He frowns. "Why sound unsure?"
"It reads spirits near you."
Jin's frown falls wide open, his mouth gaping at him. The dots he had been trying to connect drifted apart, and he was back in the confusing puzzle of Hiro's identity. His amethyst eyes lower at the view above Hiro's head. "The voices you mentioned? The voices of dead people?"
Hiro's lips motioned to answer, but his lips thinned instead. The man turned his head to the side, glancing seemingly at somewhere, something, or someone across the room.
"They're near."