author's note for dongwun ;___; forgive me if i butchered your otp lol ;___; you know i can't write all snazzy and perfect like you!!
I’ve joined the creative writing club at school on a whim. Let’s say it was because I couldn’t quite figure out which club was for me, seeing as I lack a lot of things. Our first project is keeping a journal. Let’s see how this goes.
“Ya, Son Dongwoon!”
Son Dongwoon. That’s my name. Now, that person calling my name, that obnoxiously loud, sometimes dumb-sounding, but nonetheless endearing voice; he’s alternately outgoing and flirtatious and timid and coquettish. It’s a little difficult to understand and manage, but somehow things work out.
His name is Yoon Doojoon. Whether it’s fortunate or inopportune for me, he is also my best friend.
“Ya, Son Dongwoon, what are you writing? A porn novella?”
Dongwoon punches Doojoon and quickly closes his notebook. “The way you talk about porn all the time, it makes you sound like a kid who’s never seen breasts in his life.”
Doojoon snickers and takes a seat next to him. His voice echoes throughout the empty cafeteria room. “If it isn’t, then you won’t mind me seeing what’s inside, right?”
Dongwoon shakes his head and speedily stuffs the notebook into his bag. “It’s just a creative writing project. For the club I joined. A personal journal. Emphasis on personal. Anyway, how was soccer practice?”
He shrugs, looking a little bored. “Same old, same old. A lot of the new recruits don’t understand the concept of teamwork,” he comments as the two boys head out the cafeteria. “They’ll learn sooner or later.” Dongwoon nods his head, pretends he understands just as well as Doojoon.
They reach their own private space on campus, under the shade of the only gingko tree that grows close to the soccer field. They sit down in the grass and make themselves comfortable.
I’ve never talked about it before, but I like Yoon Doojoon a lot. I’m not too certain why I do, though. He reminds me of the sky. He's vast and has different sides to him.
Dongwoon looks up at the sky and his mind wanders off again. Doojoon stretches his arms in back of his head and yawns excessively. He takes a gander at the dreaming boy next to him and starts to feel a smile creep onto his lips. He turns and lays down on the ground, head placed atop Dongwoon’s lap. The younger male jumps from Doojoon’s unexpected act. Doojoon squirms to get a more comfortable position and sighs contentedly when said pose is found.
They stay like this for a few minutes; Dongwoon is awkward and stiff whilst Doojoon is greatly enjoying himself.
“You know,” Doojoon breaks the silence between them with his ‘obnoxiously loud, sometimes dumb-sounding, but nonetheless endearing’ voice, “you’re a lot like the ground.”
Dongwoon gives him a quizzical look and prods him for an explanation.
“How do I explain this...” Doojoon scratches his forehead. He is pouting slightly, face in deep thought. Dongwoon grins inwardly.
He makes a lot of faces. Most of the time he looks incredibly stupid, but I can’t help myself from smiling. It’s odd.
“Well, Dongwoon, you’re a lot like the ground because sometimes you’re firm, sometimes you’re soft. Sometimes you’re intriguing and I’m not sure what’s underneath, sometimes I know everything squirming inside you. Sometimes I can lay down like this and not worry about anything, sometimes I have to fret about getting dirty. There’s a lot to you, at the same time there isn’t much.”
Dongwoon’s puzzled face looks even more bamboozled.
Doojoon isn’t too good at expressing himself. He’ll babble on about anything and nothing. I never understand his feelings.
Doojoon chuckles awkwardly and sits up. “Your legs must be numb now, huh?” He gets up and dusts off his jeans. “I’ll call you later. It’s getting late.”
Without another word, Yoon Doojoon leaves for home. After a few minutes of trying to understand what the hell Doojoon was talking about earlier, Dongwoon does the same.
When Doojoon arrives at his house, he scurries to his room and closes the door. When his mother comes up and opens the door, she sees him standing near the window of his room, his eyes fixing on the other side of the yard the neighbouring apartment building’s wall, and he seems unsure of what he should do.
He’s been friends with Dongwoon for a pretty long time. They spend most of their time together, like best friends should. He feels an explicably strong affection for Dongwoon, yet at the same time he can’t stand him—he can’t stand being away from him, either. Doojoon wonders if this affection between friends has turned into something more intense.
And here is the moment his mother comes in, where she sees that this might be the key moment of his life: Doojoon is standing near the window of his room, his eyes fixing on the other side of the yard the neighbouring apartment building’s wall, and he’s thinking—
Should he propose the idea of dating to Dongwoon? The responsibilities that come with it scare him. If he invites Dongwoon now, will he come join him and offer his everything?
Or else, should he give up? In that case, Dongwoon and Doojoon would remain best friends, nothing more, and this for a very, very long time.
There exists no way to verify which decision is the right one because there is no comparison. Both are the extremes, the black and the white, no gray in between.
Dongwoon is laying in bed, reading some of the things he had written in his journal so far. He laughs at some things, feels embarrassed at others. Then, his cell phone vibrates.
He turns his head to look at the device vibrating on his night table; his arm reaches out in attempt to take it. Being clumsy by nature, instead of grabbing a hold of it, he pushes it to the floor. He grumbles and sits up, gets out of bed and goes to pick it up. He has a missed called and a new text message. Both from Yoon Doojoon. He purses his lips and reads the message.
‘Can I be your ground?’
Dongwoon raises a brow. After he rereads the text, he chuckles to himself. He writes up a quick reply and sends it just as fast.
Doojoon is waiting nervously, still standing near his bedroom window only now he’s fixing his phone’s screen. When he finally gets a reply, he anxiously reads it.
It was worth a try.
A second text arrives.
‘You can be my sky.’
This time, Doojoon is the one with the puzzled face.
Every time I look up at the sky, I think of Yoon Doojoon. No matter where I go, he is there, a little like the sky. Every time I look up, it’s there, staring back at me. It’s a little childish, but I thought of him like this for a while now.
The rain is his tears. The sunlight is his smile.
The clouds are his bad mood. The sun is his good mood.
Yoon Doojoon is my sky.
He is my everything.