What was a safe place supposed to be?

A place where one can feel the safest? Secured? Unharmed? A place where one, or anyone who's able to find it, can find solace in — a small space, a big space, no matter the size, any part of the world that makes you feel like you can breathe without having to feel any aching in your chest.

A place, no matter where it is, where you run to whenever you're in sorrow, or maybe even happiness, when you want to scream and cry with rage, or simply — a place you can head to when you want nothing but peace, warm air, and silence. As if that place, unlike anywhere else, makes you feel like you're at home. As if everything makes sense. As if you're right where the universe wanted you to be.

Safe place .

Beomgyu has been thinking about it lately. People would often describe their safe places as a garden, or a rooftop, or a place by the hill — his friends told him they feel the safest inside their room, a few said that they found security while lying on their bed and cuddled up with their duvet. All warm and cozy; wrapped and secured. Like an embrace, a kiss on the forehead, fireworks lighting up the sky, and dandelions flying around you — that's what they felt. Paradise . Peace.

However, as the boy thought about it, unlike everyone else's answers, his safe place was... different? Was it the right term? Maybe weird? Or simply, it was questionable?

Beomgyu closed his eyes as he pulled his knees closer to his chest and hugged himself. The boy let out a sigh, one that resonated all over the place — the bathroom . Beomgyu glanced at the mirror on the wall and saw his own reflection on it. He looked absolutely miserable , Beomgyu couldn't help but heave out a shaky breath. The bathroom was cold, but for some reason, it brought comfort to Beomgyu. The warmth that no duvet, no grassy field, no bed can ever carve to his skin. The bathroom was quite small, but it was enough to make him feel secure. The bathroom — the bathtub gave him peace.

Bathtub. Beomgyu was seated in the bathtub, no water running or anything, it was dry and cold and it pierced right through Beomgyu's bare feet. But it didn't bother him, nothing about anything in this place bothered him. He wasn't exactly sure why he was always here whenever he felt shallow or empty, but Beomgyu was certain about one thing though: it's that this bathtub located inside the apartment has always given him peace.

And that's what a safe place is supposed to be, right?

Safe, peaceful, free — any terms you can use to describe it.

The bathtub was Beomgyu's safe place.

But for some reason, it didn't feel as safe as it used to be.

The cold started to pierce. The space started to suffocate him.

Nothing felt safe.

Tomorrow came.

There was warmth during the morning, specks of dust were floating around as Beomgyu made his way to his classroom. The hallways were filled with students running and chatting around, Beomgyu held on to the straps of his bag, tighter , and walked inside his class.

It was loud. But unlike any other day, the noise colored with bliss didn't affect anything in Beomgyu's mood. However, he forced it. Forced to shout as loud as he could, ran his way to his friends, and sparked up a conversation with them. Beomgyu wasn't feeling it, but something within his chest forced him to stretch out a smile and threatened the stars in his eyes to shine. Even if they didn't want to. Yet stars must shine, even on days when they don't feel like it.

"Good morning, Yeonjun Hyung," Beomgyu placed an arm around Yeonjun's shoulders, just like he always does, and beamed a smile while looking at the elder.

Yeonjun chuckled while nodding and patting Beomgyu's hand, "Good morning to you, too, Beoms."

The younger male giggled and went back to his own seat just behind Yeonjun.

But Yeonjun pinched his eyebrows together and briefly looked back at Beomgyu who was now fixing his stuff. He didn't even ask me any silly questions like what I had for breakfast or if I took the train to school today?

It was a habit that Beomgyu had: asking questions nonstop until the teacher would arrive. Or maybe he'd just tease Yeonjun, or point out the wrinkles in Yeonjun's blazer, or Beomgyu would ask him if he bought any gummies (and yes, Yeonjun did buy gummies for him on his way to school today). Nonetheless, Yeonjun just brushed it off as soon as the teacher walked inside the room.

Maybe Beomgyu just didn't feel like eating any sweets today.

The sun stood amidst the sky, blazing, and it hurt Beomgyu's eyes.

One thing that's just as difficult as getting off your bed is to force out a goddamn smile. Even when you didn't feel like it. Beomgyu gave almost everyone an ingenuine smile, thoughts racing around his mind with no plans of stopping. Beomgyu already felt exhausted, the classroom seemed a little bit bigger, and Yeonjun looked farther away than usual. He made his way through papers, desks, and chairs. Beomgyu stood in front of a seated Yeonjun who looked at him with expecting eyes, "Let's go have lunch?"

Yeonjun, although the heavy air still lingered, nodded with a grin, "I mean, it is lunch break."

Beomgyu laughed. Genuinely. Everything about today made him sick, but Yeonjun didn't make the insides of his stomach swirl in a bad way. Perhaps in another way, though. But that's something Beomgyu doesn't like to wonder about.

He'd like to wonder about gummies. About dancing. About the silhouettes running around a rainy street. About the sunlight crawling against the open door of his bedroom. He'd like to think about how broad Yeonjun's shoulders are, about how big and long his hands are that they can wrap themselves around his body. Like he was a pillow, like a little kid that's asking for cuddles. He'd like to think about the way Yeonjun's eyes would never look at him in a different way, his eyes would always have the same, caring, and warm gaze that form crescents every time he looked at him. And Beomgyu would look at him in the same way.

And today, even when everything else seemed to have shifted, this was something that'll never change even if a gun was pointed at his head.

"Beomgyu, why aren't you eating?"

Beomgyu flinched. The chopsticks in his hold almost fell to the floor. A wide-eyed gaze was what looked at Yeonjun's squinted eyes. Beomgyu's eyebrows were raised, his eyelashes visible even when Yeonjun was sitting across from him.

"Ah," Beomgyu chuckled and stirred the noodles, "I was just thinking about something, don't worry," he bit his lip, but Yeonjun knew him. God, he knew him all too well. Every line, every curve. Beomgyu could try to erase those, but the lines will always leave a mark. And Yeonjun has keen eyes.

Keen eyes for Beomgyu, that is.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Beomgyu nervously shifted in his seat, "Is something bothering you?"

Yeonjun raised an eyebrow, he placed his chopsticks on the side and pressed his body closer against the table, "You're shifting on your place, is something bothering you?"

"What? No," Beomgyu scoffed, he circled the noodles around his sticks and ate. The munching sound only made Yeonjun sigh. The utensils clattered. The warm, heavy air inside the cafeteria weighed on Yeonjun's shoulders. Yeonjun looked at Beomgyu. His eyelids seemed dull. The sunlight embracing his features outlined the lines of his face almost perfectly, but from his eyes to the tips of his fingers, he seemed dreary. Yeonjun's hand twitched.

"Hey," Yeonjun stretched his arm out, he touched Beomgyu's honey skin with his fingertips, carefully caressing the hand that tensed up against his hold. "I'm here, you know that, right?" Yeonjun's gaze softened. Beomgyu crumbled.

It's getting hard to breathe.

"I know," Beomgyu had his pretty smile on.

Yeonjun's heart danced.

"But I'm really okay," Beomgyu's gaze avoided Yeonjun's eyes.

And Yeonjun leaned against his seat, crestfallen.

Right . As much as he loved teasing the younger, his heart still drops whenever he feels like that younger's getting pulled down by gravity. Beomgyu was just a whole house of cards, so bare, his emotions on full display. Almost like an open book. Almost. Beomgyu was still hard to read, but with the sunshine dripping honey into his eyes, Yeonjun knew.

Honey was sweet, but it turned bitter when it dropped into Beomgyu's eyes.

The sun was already bidding its goodbye, slowly drowning into the ocean as the stars lit up one by one.

Yeonjun has Beomgyu memorized. Like a poem he's read for a lot of times until every single word was already familiarized and imprinted on his mind. One of Beomgyu's habits included Yeonjun.

"I'm going home now."

Old habits die, however.

Usually, Beomgyu would push Yeonjun out of the classroom, drag him to the nearest convenience store, and they'd eat every type of ramen while telling stories that happened almost five years ago. Old habits that Yeonjun cherished. This only happened on quite a few occasions, but why did it hurt a little bit more today?

"Are we not gonna eat ramen today?" Believe me when I say that Yeonjun tried to cover the desolation in his voice, heck, even in his eyes. But a smile can only cover so little.

Beomgyu turned to look at him, his eyes peeking through his bangs as he gently nodded, "I'm not really in the mood for it today. Maybe next time, Jun."

Oh.

And with that, he walked away. But Yeonjun won't go away.

Beomgyu might have come off as cold, but we really must understand that every person has sorrow in their hearts which the world won't ever see nor feel. Beomgyu wasn't cold. He was just sad.

Yeonjun understood that.

"Yeonjun, aren't you coming?" The mentioned boy looked back at his other friends, there wasn't any glimpse of hesitation in his eyes as he said, "You guys go ahead, I've something to do."

Right.

His heart won't settle until Beomgyu's all right.

Beomgyu kept his heart secure, and he hoped he could do the same.

Evening splashed the city with black and blue; stars splattered across the sky as the wind grew colder.

Yeonjun knew the password to Beomgyu's apartment, the younger willingly gave it to him, though. And so, when Beomgyu was not responding to any of his messages (he sent a bunch on his way there), he immediately unlocked the door and welcomed himself in. The sound of the door opening resonated throughout the room, it was quiet, the warm air embracing him whole as he shut the entrance. No laughter, no melody. Yeonjun hurried his way towards the bathroom.

Ah.

He knew.

Yeonjun knew Beomgyu all too well.

And that included the place Beomgyu considered as his safe space.

His footsteps were heavy; he knocked on the bathroom door. No answer. The puzzles in his mind were left incomplete. Yeonjun opened the door. Everything was dry; the bathtub held nothing but a towel.

Yeonjun pinched his eyebrows together, he walked into Beomgyu's room and found his bed neatly arranged. Did he not come home?

But he saw Beomgyu's shoes at the entrance.

Then the closet doors creaked; Yeonjun sighed. He made his way towards the closet, crouched down, and gently pulled the door open. Yeonjun's heart fell deeper than one could ever fathom.

"Beomgyu," he called, voice almost whispering into nothingness. Beomgyu forced out a smile as he pulled his knees closer, "Hey, Jun."

"What are you doing here?" Yeonjun asked with a hand stretched out to softly push Beomgyu's bangs away from his face. Yeonjun wasn't sure, what was he feeling right now as he stared at Beomgyu's eyes?

"I thought you were in the bathtub," Yeonjun gave warmth to Beomgyu's hand as he held it.

Beomgyu shrugged, "It didn't feel the same anymore, so I tried the closet. But it feels a bit...hotter here."

Yeonjun chuckled ever-so-softly, "Come out."

There was hesitance, but Beomgyu soon crawled his way out of the small space. Yeonjun patted his head, Beomgyu smiled a little. But it soon faded as he chose to mindlessly play with the elder's fingers. Yeonjun's chest tightened a little.

He wasn't sure, really. What was this feeling exactly?

Yeonjun couldn't understand.

But he did know that he loved Beomgyu more at this very moment.

"Come on," Yeonjun gently pulled Beomgyu towards the bathroom, and Beomgyu raised a confused brow, he instantly felt comfort wash over him as his feet stepped on the cold tiles.

"Why doesn't it feel the same anymore, lovely?" Yeonjun lowered his height to look at Beomgyu in the eye, although they didn't have that much of a gap, Yeonjun still did it. Beomgyu was just so lovely.

Beomgyu walked over to the bathtub and pouted, "I don't know. Whenever I sit in it, I just feel sadder. I guess. I don't know."

Yeonjun stayed quiet. Allowing Beomgyu's voice to play around the room like an instrument.

"It just..." Beomgyu felt the cold tub against his thumb.

"It doesn't fit the definition of a safe place anymore," he let go.

Yeonjun continued to stay silent, his thread of steps made its way to Beomgyu. He stood behind the younger, Yeonjun grabbed his hand and placed it against the tub once more. The cold wasn't there. Only the warmth in Yeonjun's fingers. The warmth of his chest being pressed against his back. The warmth of his presence, and the safety his shadow alone brought.

Beomgyu was usually loud.

But this time, he was lost in his thoughts, his other hand fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he stared at their hands clasped together.

"What's a safe place's definition to you?" Now, it was Yeonjun's voice resonating inside the bathroom.

Silence. Uncertainty. Beomgyu wasn't sure. He wondered, pondering as his gaze fell on the tub again. I don't know.

"Do you want to know what my safe place is?" Yeonjun inched a bit closer, "Or should I say...who?"

Beomgyu slowly turned around to look at Yeonjun who was smiling at him, his eyes forming crescents as he squeezed his hand. The comfort was there, in Yeonjun's fingers, in his eyes, his lashes, the pretty crimson painted on his cheeks. Everything felt comforting.

"Yeah?" Beomgyu couldn't even stop himself from giving Yeonjun's hand a gentle squeeze as well.

Beomgyu couldn't let go. Comfort, safety...had always been hard to find, but now, as he felt Yeonjun caress his palm with his thumb, love was almost tangible.

"A safe place...isn't always a literal place, y'know," Yeonjun smiled as he took another step forward. "Sometimes," Yeonjun avoided Beomgyu's eyes, "it's two arms," he then enveloped his hands around Beomgyu's waist, "wrapped around you like this."

The bathroom looked a bit blurry, everything was spinning...dizzy, the bathroom was dull in white, his feet almost having no single might, but even in this state, Yeonjun looked absolutely beautiful. And he never felt this safe in his entire life.

"Wait," realization hit Beomgyu, almost as if butterflies were flying their way to his face, "you mean...?"

Yeonjun brought his hand up to Beomgyu's neck and pushed him against his chest, he then whispered against his ear, he didn't want his voice to resonate this time, "Yeah, it's exactly what you think it is."

"Your safe place is...?"

"You," Yeonjun buried his face on the crook of Beomgyu's neck, his hands pulling Beomgyu closer until he could feel the elder's heartbeat. "It has always been you."

Perhaps something aligned at that moment. Maybe the stars in Beomgyu's eyes aligned. Or the stars in Yeonjun's eyes. Or both, who knows? Them.

Beomgyu wasn't sure. Yeonjun didn't know either.

What was a safe place?

Perhaps it was this moment.

The way Yeonjun wrapped his hands around Beomgyu's waist as they sat inside the tub, with Yeonjun seated behind Beomgyu, his head rested on Beomgyu's shoulder.

People said it's easy to love someone on their happy days, and what's hard is staying in love when you witness that person falling apart at 3 in the morning.

Yeonjun didn't find it hard at all, though.

Love is easy. The beauty there is in the ugly, in the overflowing sink, in the loneliness, in his everyday life with Beomgyu, in every single moment he spent thinking about the younger before he fell asleep. Beomgyu painted beauty anywhere. In the bathroom, in this bathtub.

And for him, he supposed, Beomgyu was his safe place. He's never met a lovely so real, so pure, so Beomgyu.

"It'll be okay," Yeonjun whispered once more. Beomgyu shivered.

"In the times when you won't find any sense of safety in me anymore, it'll be okay," Yeonjun tightened the hold he had on Beomgyu. The younger closed his eyes.

"When you cry like this, when you scream, when you bleed, when you can't look at me in the same lovely way, it'll be okay," Yeonjun could smell his perfume. It was flowery...like spring, like Beomgyu.

"I'll love you still," Yeonjun could feel Beomgyu pulling his arms closer, "And I'll love you even more."

And Beomgyu was certain.

What was a safe place supposed to be?

It was supposed to be two arms wrapped around him like this, the warmth of his breath becoming all too familiar on his shoulder, and the sound of his voice beside his ear.

It was supposed to be all this.

It was supposed to be Choi Yeonjun.