Written for and inspired by
my sweet friend

Yesyesyes000

May all who read this have comfort in dark nights.

【♡】

TW: su!cidal ideation

【♡】

The only reason Yeosang wasn't glued to his phone was because it was dead; just a few more minutes should be enough to restart. So, instead, he was simply lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

Without the phone's distraction, Yeosang had to think. And thinking takes so much work.

Maybe he could finally do it today. You know? End it. But that's what he says every day— a fantasy. Those dark thoughts, as they're called, where one can dream of escape, just for a little while.

I'm ready, he told himself.

But there was always something holding him back.

Maybe it was simply fear. That's what Yeosang liked to think; he liked to call himself a coward, useless, lazy.

Or maybe... maybe he didn't like it, but rather, that's where he felt comfortable.

Broken people are dangerous, he remembered reading one day, they make hell feel like home. Yeosang scoffed, turning over in his bed.

Maybe, instead, it was hope that kept him here. What a strange idea hope is. How horribly wonderful. Yeosang remembered another quote: hope is the most treacherous thing in the world. It lifts you and lets you plummet. But as long as you're being lifted you don't worry about plummeting.

His hope was his best friend who lived too far away. He was the best cuddler, annoyingly cocky but always knew to give Yeosang hugs, even when he pretended to hate it. Yeosang hoped that, one day, he could be confident like Wooyoung.

His hope was his one friend at school, the sweetheart who somehow landed a reputation as a bad boy. Yeosang smiled thinking of San. He thought of San's boyfriend, too. Despite being tall, Mingi always seemed adorably small next to San. The way Mingi would look at the older, always with stars in his eyes, like San could protect him from anything.

Maybe Yeosang, through it all, still hoped that he could have that one day— find someone to love. That he could be loved.

But who would dare love him? I wake up just to disappoint you, Yeosang laughed at himself in his head.

His thoughts kept taunting him and he was too exhausted to fight back, to defend himself. How heart-wrenching it is to know that Yeosang believed all those things his devil-voice told him.

Yeosang squeezed his eyes shut, feeling the ache behind his eyes begin to pulse. He probably should've drunk water, but the cup on his nightstand was empty, and he was tired.

The sun was bright through his drawn curtains and Yeosang could hear some children playing outside. Part of him wanted to join. Part of him tried desperately to crawl its way out of despair, to go have fun because, really, Yeosang still was a child.

He was still so young, but his heart ached with the heavy lives of past coal mine workers, of single mothers, of those children who'd seen far too much.

Yeosang hated himself for that.

He thought he was being dramatic.

With these thoughts, he finally drifted to sleep.

【♡】

Someone crawled into bed behind him.

Yeosang would be far more worried about who exactly it was if he wasn't still half-asleep with a fuzzy headache. And honestly, on top of all that, dissociated. Apathetic.

"Yeosanggg-ahh~," the body behind him whispered, wrapping his arms around Yeosang and cuddling into his back.

Yeosang blinked open his eyes. "Wooyoung-ah?" He turned around in the boy's arms to face his best friend. Moonlight streamed in to illuminate Wooyoung's face. "What are you doing here?"

Wooyoung's beautiful smile lessened to something more bittersweet. "Your mom called me."

No response. Yeosang lay there, limp in Wooyoung's arms.

"Y-yeo?"

But Yeosang wasn't listening. His best friend came all this way because his mom asked him to? How pathetic. I really am so fucking useless. Even when you're sleeping you can't stop bothering people, huh? A bur—

"YAH!" Wooyoung shook him out of his thoughts. "Whatever you're thinking stop it! I've been dying to see you and your mom's call was just a good excuse to make the drive, okay?"

Now Yeosang hadn't cried in quite a while; every time his emotions overloaded, whether he realized it or not, he would disassociate. Maybe it was the late hours, maybe it was his fatiguing day, maybe it was the safety of Wooyoung's arms, whatever it was, Yeosang started to cry.

"Oh, honey." Wooyoung's concerned voice quickly brought all of Yeosang's suppressed misery to the surface.

Tear after tear fell until Yeosang was having a hard time breathing.

This is why he didn't allow himself to cry. This is why he felt nothing, because it was too much. Suffocating in one's own emotions is terrifying.

When Wooyoung realized he wasn't calming any time soon, he sat up against the headboard, pulling the older into his lap. Wooyoung rocked them, alternating between holding Yeosang tight and caressing his hair. He didn't speak. A physical support, he let his best friend cry.

From his own experience, Wooyoung knows how healing a cry can be.

A few times, when Yeosang felt he couldn't handle it, he tried to crawl away, but Wooyoung just flicked his forehead and held him even tighter.

All this sobbing was certainly not helping Yeosang's headache. But it's fine, he told himself, I'm used to it.

Yeosang tried to speak, to release his thoughts in words, but it was a mess of tears and hiccups. Wooyoung hushed him until he could calm.

And he did. As the moon rose higher in the sky, Yeosang's breath began to even. Softly, they waited, just holding each other, rocking together.

"Do you want to tell me what's up now?" Wooyoung asked.

"I don't—" Yeosang's voice was still quiet, horse from his cries. "It doesn't— I don't wanna, like, make you sad."

"Yah. You think I can't handle it?" Wooyoung teased softly, still weary of his friend's state. "But seriously Yeo, tell me. It's obviously important and I'm your best friend. I want to listen. So let me you littke shit."

During their half-a-lifetime of friendship, Yeosang has learned many things about the younger. The fact that he's not always the most empathetic comforter is one of them. But it's endearing to him now, because he knows how much Wooyoung tries.

"I feel like... like I'm trapped in a cycle of boredom and disappointment," Yeosang started. Wooyoung waited patiently as Yeosang formed his words.

"It's not slay at all," he laughed, "and I'm not feeling it. I'm tired, I'm exhausted, and I'm too sensitive and—"

Wooyoung cut him off here. "Firstly you are not 'too sensitive,' as you say. Your heart is pure and sweet and innocent and it's the world's fucking fault for making you feel like shit because the world is shit and it doesn't, collectively, know how to be not shit." Wooyoung huffed before continuing. "Un-shit, if you will. Okay, that is all— please carry on."

Yeosang was quiet and, for a moment, Wooyoung was scared he overstepped. Thankfully, Yeosang's beautiful voice filled the room again. "But Woo... I overreact. I'm the wrong one here because why can't I just get along with what everyone does without complaining?"

Wooyoung doesn't reprimand him this time; he just waits for Yeosang to continue.

"It's actually fascinating to think that— that I just can't seem to do what everyone can do easily. I never try hard enough." Yeosang sighed as he felt Wooyoung dig his face into the side of his neck. "It's like I just hang here, trying to keep on the surface when I would rather just drown. Can't I do that? Just drown rather than keep going and acting like I belong here? Like, if I don't see a reason to keep trying, why should I?" Wooyoung's grip around the boy's waist tightened as he tried not to cry.

Yeosang's heart clenched. He hated making people cry, hated making people worry, hated being a burden.

He sighed. "Wooyoung this is why I didn't want to tell you. I don't want to be the reason you cry."

Wooyoung took his head up from Yeosang's neck and turned the older around in his lap. "Kang Yeosang," he said, sniffling. "I love you, you brat. And so that means I want to do all this with you. All the shit, all the pain, I want to be part of it. If you're hurting I'm hurting and I will NOT have it any other way." He leaned his forehead against Yeosang's. "In sickness and in health, right?"

Yeosang rolled his eyes, scoffing. "We aren't married."

"Yeah, and we never will be if you kill yourself!" Wooyoung shot back with teary eyes. "So keep talking. Whatever is going through your mind, tell me."

Yeosang sunk back into Wooyoung's embrace, waiting for his thoughts to align.

"This battle is harder than I thought." Yeosang spoke softer, like he was beginning to understand himself. "Darkness might actually get me. I just want to feel like I belong to this stupid place and stop looking like an idiot."

"Yah, why do you think you look like an idiot? Did someone say that?"

Yeosang smiled. He had a love hate relationship with this, with someone caring. He loved the feeling, the warmth spreading through his chest at receiving an act of kindness. He loved to be cared for in such a way that, if he gave Wooyoung a name, that name would vanish from his life.

But also, the care made him feel guilty. He always felt guilty, just for existing, taking up space.

Yet, if even one ounce of Yeosang disappeared, the world would be incomplete.

"No, no one told me that..." Yeosang answered. "I guess I just feel like an idiot."

Wooyoung pursed his lips at that. He speaks in his preschool-teacher voice. "Remember what we say about feelings?"

An amused smile pulled at the edge of Yeosang's lips. "Sometimes— sometimes our feelings lie to us."

"And what's the big boy version?"

Now Yeosang really might be smiling. "Feelings are not an accurate representation of reality."

"Yes!" Wooyoung praised. He held onto Yeosang's face, staring into his eyes, before grinning and smothering his best friend with kisses.

Wooyoung kissed every part of Yeosang's face. His eyelashes, the little indents along his chin, the acne and scars by his cheeks, and, most importantly, his birthmark. Wooyoung didn't stop until Yeosang was filled with giggles in his lap.

And Yeosang loved every minute. He loved how he could be having the worst day— worst year— of his life, and here comes Wooyoung. His best friend who could turn him from agonizing guilt to full laughter within the span of a night.

Once the smile seemed to be safe on Yeosang's face, Wooyoung brought their foreheads together again. "I love you, Yeosang, with all your mistakes and good sides combined."

"Thank you," Yeosang whispered back, "for loving me. I love you, too."

"Hey Yeo."

"Hmm?"

"You hungry? Let's get food."

"Woo, it's like..." Yeosang glanced at the clock, "almost one am?" Yeosang stared at his friend with horrified eyes. "Wooyoung!" he scolded. "Let's just go to bed, you must be tired."

"Nooooo~" Wooyoung wiggled. "We can get smoothies!"

Ugh. Yeosang scoffed, but he was already under the boy's charms. Why does this brat have to be so unfailingly cute?

"Who the heck has smoothies at one a.m."

"We do!" Wooyoung's hopeful smile shone brilliantly in the moonlight. "Remember that corner store has the bottled ones. Plus," Wooyoung nudged his friend, "we could both probably use some vitamins."

Yeosang was still scared to say yes, though. Too fatigued, too jaded, part of him still held back. His bed was safe; nothing bad could happen if he's asleep, if he's curled under his blankets. But oh how Yeosang wanted to say yes. How his heart cried in his chest for life.

And, finally, Yeosang replied. "Okay, yeah. you're driving, though."

With that, the spark of hope in Yeosang's heart burned a little brighter.

Yeosang tumbled off his best friend's lap and crawled to the edge of the bed. But when Yeosang tried to stand, all the pain from behind his eyes broke out to attack the rest of his skull. Lightheaded, his bottom fell back onto the mattress as he clutched his head.

Maybe I really should drink more water.

"Yeo?" Wooyoung was quick to be by his side. "What's wrong?"

"Just a," he gritted out, "headache."

"One minute." Wooyoung slipped off the bed, grabbed Yeosang's nightstand cup, and disappeared into the hallway.

He returned with Tylenol and a full glass of water.

"Wait." Wooyoung stopped before handing over the pills. "Have you taken anything else?"

"Not since this morning," Yeosang assured.

Yeosang should've felt better in twenty minutes or so, but neither really wanted to wait. So, grabbing Yeosang's hand, Wooyoung led them out of the house.

【♡】

Yeosang laid his head against the window as they drove. He watched the streetlights pass by, the light from a few windows who hadn't gone to sleep, the stars and the luminous full moon. So much light, even in the darkness.

Wooyoung pulled into the gas station. Except for the single employee at the counter, everything around them is empty; just them and the stars.

"You coming in, Yeo? Or you want me to grab you something?"

Yeosang unbuckled his seatbelt, deciding to follow the younger inside. He breathed in the fresh air. It'd been so long since Yeosang had been out of the house beside school, and certainly a long time since he'd been out with a friend, with Wooyoung.

"Come on!" Wooyoung called, holding the door open for Yeosang.

They knew where to go— straight to the back fridges— to find the collection of flavored milks and fruit drinks. Leaving no room for argument, Wooyoung paid before they headed back to the car.

Yeosang cracked the seal on their bottles, handing the mango to Wooyoung and keeping the classic strawberry-banana for himself. And that first sip, oh it was deliciously fresh. Yeosang couldn't remember that last time he had fruit; another thing to add to his be nice to myself list.

Yeosang had assumed they were heading home, but as they drove, the houses became fewer and far between, replaced more by boulders and sand-grass. "Wooyoung?"

"We're going to the beach. Padada~!" he grinned.

Yeosang smiled himself, humming lowly as he listened to the tires in the road, the wind rushing by once he rolled down his window. He was happy to realize his headache had dissipated.

"Yah, Yeosang..." Wooyoung spoke softly. "You know— like, well," he sighed, "do you want to love yourself?"

Yeosang was taken aback. "Of course I do." Everyone wants to be happy, right? So does Yeosang, he just... doesn't quite know how. It's been so long.

"I just mean," Wooyoung continued, "if you want to love yourself, you can't speak to yourself like someone you hate."

"I know," Yeosang sighed. "It's just hard."

"I know baby." Wooyoung reached his hand out and Yeosang slotted his own hand in. Palm to Palm, they parked at the oceanside.

"Come on, leave your shoes," Wooyoung yelled once he stepped out of the car.

Now normally Yeosang would not leave his shoes in the car— who knows what could be hiding in the sand— but the full moon past midnight apparently does strange things to Yeosang. So he slipped off his shoes and ran to Wooyoung, grabbing his hand.

"Let's go!" Yeosang laughed, beautiful and loud and mixed with giggles. Wooyoung couldn't have been happier. Barefoot, they trampled the sand before reaching the ocean's waves.

Wooyoung, being Wooyoung, could not help but splash his friend.

Yeosang screeched. "You did not!" He immediately retaliated. As they played, the salt water of the ocean replaced the dried tears on Yeosang's face.

"Yah, okay, YAH! KANG YEOSANG!" Both boys were panting with soaked bottoms by the time Wooyoung surrendered. They retreated to lay on the beach, neither minding the fact that sand would stick to every inch of them.

"Wooyoung-ah"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you." Yeosang felt like he might cry— the happiest tears of his lifetime, because his whole chest felt so full.

Wooyoung just shrugged. "I needed to get out anyway."

Yeosang gazed up at the moon. It was mesmerizing tonight, hanging low over the ocean. He reached for his phone, but, finding his pockets empty, realized it was still plugged in next to his bed.

"Woo, can I take a picture on your phone? Mine's at home."

Wooyoung sat up, pulling out his phone and dusting the sand off before handing it to Yeosang.

"Thanks." Yeosang scooched across the sand to sit between Wooyoung's legs. He leaned back against the older's chest, feeling Wooyoung wrap his arms around his waist.

"So pretty," Wooyoung whispered as Yeosang pointed the camera. And Yeosang giggled, because he didn't know whether Wooyoung was speaking of the moon or Yeosang.

Both, Yeosang decided, we're both pretty.

Wooyoung planted kisses around the base of Yeosang's neck, he worked up to behind his ears and brushed his lips through Yeosang's hair, before burying his face into Yeosang's neck instead.

Yeosang melted into the younger, fully sated and floating on the feeling of love.

"Wooyoung-ah," Yeosang mumbled, his eyes closed, "I'm disappointed in myself. I thought I would be better by now," he sighs. "It's been years." But Yeosang wasn't necessarily sad saying this at that moment, he felt so whole no sadness could mar it. Rather, he just said what came to mind.

"It's okay—" Wooyoung brushed kisses along Yeosang's nape once more. "It's okay that you aren't who you thought you would be. I know it's different, and that can be scary, but it doesn't have to be bad. I love you all the same."

Yeosang rested in Wooyoung's embrace and, by the calm sea, in the moonlit night, his heart never felt so whole.

•

【♡】

•

"Since everyone has their own pain and their own hard time, I don't know if I'm able to give you comfort but, as a result, what I wanted to say is that you're not alone."→Jung Wooyoung

"I used to do everything by myself and didn't want to receive any help, even if it was the most trivial things, as i didn't to be a bother to other people. Get help if you need it."→Kang Yeosang

"I will always cheer for you so you gain strength to get back up again. You don't have to be good at everything. You can cry when you want to, you can rest when you want to. I'll be by your side cheering for you."→Song Mingi

"Crying doesn't mean you're going to collapse. I hope you cry your heart out and brush off your worries."→Park Seonghwa

"It's okay. Slowly, keep going, chase your dream slowly, it's okay, don't give up."→Kim Hongjoong

"You should be loved for existing."→Choi San

【♡】

9-14-23. 3k words.