yongseung x verivery

the boy from the summer before

yongseung is caught in a loop of midsummer's love

~ inspo ~ 

summer is for falling in love - sarah kang

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   The boy with black hair opened the sliding door and stepped out into the crisp evening air. It was about the middle of summer, and feeling a gust of cool wind felt nice, and it gave the boy's lips a quick twitch. He leant up against the metal railing of his balcony, ignoring the paint chips scratching his forearms, and rubbed his thumb across the glass in his hand. It was a cold, and relatively tall, glass of lemonade he made himself. It was a tad too watery and sweet - for he liked his lemonade sour - but it oddly fit the mood: soft sunset, soft wind, and a soft glass of lemonade.

   He took a sip and sighed out in delight; his first week back at college was more stressful than he remembered it being. His classes, contrary to what his seniors told him, were a lot harder, but he liked the challenge, for it gave him a spike of determination and a sense of accomplishment when he finally, after 4 tries, got that damn report paper complete.

   The boy chuckled, took another sip of his drink because it was strangely good, and flicked a strand of dyed blonde hair out of his eyes. His eyes wandered the streets down below: cars (too many of which were red) lined the sidewalk like a second skin, the trees swayed with melodic movements and the wind picked up, almost shooing the remaining people into their homes and apartment buildings. And the sunset, the beautiful, painting-esque and simply breathtaking sunset that made the boy miles away feel warm.

   The wind carded through his hair with such gentleness and care that it brought him back to a certain someone with a smile as warm as the sunset before him, yet that sunset reminded him of someone with hair as wild as the colors painted across the sky, and yet those colors, vivid and rich, made him remember the radiant innocence of another someone, but yet that childlike personality reminded him of another someone that acted all to similarly to himself.

   Yongseung has had a peculiar past four years; their fall's were refreshing, their winter's were bitter, and their spring's were bright, yet each summer felt like he got hit with a wave, smacked by someone new each season that he held onto for way too long, only for another person to whisk him away and make him forget about the person from the summer before all together, but that was until they left too.

   It was a vicious cycle, meeting another boy that was perfect in Yongseung's eyes, and having him watch the boy leave at the end of each summer, with a bittersweet smile that was almost as familiar to him as the feeling of regret, the feeling of longing and the feeling of melancholy, yet the melancholy had a source: the boy from the summer before.

   He looked down and saw that his lemonade was almost gone, so he stood up straight, popped his back, and went back inside.

   He can remember the first summer of this series of holiday boys too clearly for his liking: it was his first day at his first ever job. He was working at a fast food restaurant as a front counter helper for this boy a year older than him. He remembered him in such detail that it creeped Yongseung out a tad, but how could he forget a person with such a healing smile?

   He remembered the boy to have deep brown hair that always fell in thin vines across his forehead; he wore a pair of torn up red Converse with the laces of his left shoe way too long that he tended to trip over, and a smile akin to sunlight; its was a bit poetic for Yongseung, but the fast food cashier he worked alongside during the summer going into his senior year had the most dazzling smile, the softest voice, and the warmest eyes he's ever seen.

   It was obvious as to why Yongseung grew so attached to the boy: for he acted as his older brother. Yongseung is an only child, and having the boy next to him giving advice for his senior year and college years to come, rustling his hair when he punched in a customer's order correctly, or simply giving him a hug when his report card was straight A's sent his heart into a tornado of emotions that still left an ache in his chest.

   His attachment to the older soon grew into something deeper; he found himself looking at him longer than anyone else, feeling like he was floating by a simple squeeze on his arm, and an action as small as a giggle sent Yongseung spiraling into a hole of an unknown emotion he only figured out when the older left for college. He understood he had a crush on the older cashier, but whenever he sat with him during their break and watched him shovel french fries into his mouth whilst scrolling on his phone, he couldn't make himself break what they had.

   He was scared; Yongseung was scared to shatter the closeness of their friendship by telling the cashier about his growing crush that he waited too long and lost him completely. He could picture the day so well that it made him feel sick: he was in front of the boy's car - for he had just got his driver's license and the older wanted him to "see if he'll crash his car" - and the older was not but a couple inches away from Yongseung.

   The older signed out a laugh and set his hand on the younger's shoulder. "I'm going to miss bossing you around."

   It was so bittersweet that Yongseung wanted to puke. "I will too." He looked up and met his eyes, feeling his chest explode. "Please call and text me. I wanna hear all the wild stories and stupid shit you get into."

   He smiled, and oh did he look like an angel amidst the afternoon sun. "I'll try. College is pretty time consuming."

   "You said you'll always have time for me." He pouted.

   He felt a hand ruffle his hair and rest itself on the nape of his neck. "And I do, so quit making this so hard on ourselves."

   Our. He wanted that word to apply to the both of them so bad; he desperately wanted that word to mean something so much more.

   "Goodbye Seung." He flicked his hand outside his car window.

    "Goodbye Dongheon."

   Yongseung blinked and found himself sitting at his dining table, a plate of leftover pasta before him and another glass of lemonade next to it. He looked up and saw that the flowers he bought a couple days ago were still as vibrant as ever, and when his eyes landed a bright blue carnation, it reminded him of his second summer in the series.

   When he walked into his AP Computer Science class at the start of senior year, he was filled with unfaltering determination and jittery anticipation with a looming sense of anxiety. He glanced up at the white board, saw that there wasn't a seating chart taped up, and turned to search for an empty seat. As he walked between the tables, he threw smiles at people he remembered from classes the years before, like one girl he thought dropped out of the pathway, and gave others quick high-fives and punches on the shoulder.

   Yongseung entered the class late - the teacher wasn't there and a few other students walked in after him so he was okay - so the seats he wanted were all taken. So, with the snickers and silly faces of his friends behind him, he had to settle with the seat against the left side of the class at the very front; he didn't mind sitting where he was, for he was just a row behind his friends and the boy he sat next to piqued his interest. He had rich blue hair and it baffled Yongseung how the other didn't get dress-coded, but then again, his school's policies were pretty lax.

   He remembered the boy looking up from his phone and dropping it on the table, giving Yongseung a thin smile as he shrugged his backpack off and the teacher strutted into class.

   "Get to know your tablemate," The bearded man announced. "Because you'll be doing an assignment with them at the end of the year."

   The howls and hollering guffaws his friends let out when the bell rang still stung a tad; they pitied Yongseung, pleaded for him not to beat the others up and promised that they'll work hard and not leech off him for the answers to this year's assignments.

   "Still can't believe you're going to have to work with the pretty blue boy."

    "Shut the hell up! He's not as bad as everyone makes him out to be. Right?"

   Yongseung was right, for the most part however; his classmates told him that the blue haired boy was sassy, arrogantly smart, and strangely pretty. Yongseung, throughout the course of his senior year, came to realize that the things his classmates whispered to him or what his friends would tell him across the lunch table were only half truths. The boy was sassy, but sassy in a charming and charismatic way; every joke he mumbled would always have Yongseung snickering through his hand or smiling while rolling his eyes. The boy was smart, but not so much in an arrogant way as other students perceived, but in a confident way; he knew his stuff, and the things he found easy he vocalized in hopes for a challenge, and Yongseung really admired that. And lastly, when people said the boy was strangely pretty, they should omit the strange because to Yongseung, the boy was gorgeous. It was something about his eyes, he kept telling himself, and how they matched perfectly with his personality.

   His senior year flew by and it was summer before he knew it. His final project as a high school student was to create a face detection system between the two of them that could recognize the both of them. Easier said than done for the blue haired boy, a bit harder and time consuming for Yongseung. But, the boy stayed back and helped the latter the entire time, giving him helpful advice when needed and times where it came off as cocky. They would both stay up till 4 a.m. trying to wire the system up when the blue haired boy would fall asleep on Yongseung's shoulder, energy drink almost about to tip over, when he would freeze and feel his chest blossom with an emotion he only ever felt last summer. He'd drop his tools, fall back against the side of the blue haired boy's bed, and sigh.

   Again?

   But it wasn't like last summer, for the previous boy was much older, so Yongseung idolized him. As for the blue haired boy, he felt like he had a genuine connection with him, and became so close over the course of a month and a half that the feelings he was growing for him felt different from the ones before. They, both him and the blue haired boy, felt young, felt happy, felt like they were meant to be, and that's why it hurt so much more to leave him.

   "You're going to get into HSU, trust me." Yongseung had his hands clasped around the others.

   The boy nodded. "I know I will." He let out a weak sigh and looked up, meeting Yonseung's stare with wide eyes. "Why'd you have to pick a college so far away?"

   "It's only a two hour plane ride, chill out."

   "That's an entire college student's lunch money right there." He wiggled his hand free and aggressively poked Yongseung's chest.

   "C'mere." The younger pulled the now orange haired boy in for a hug that lasted way longer than a couple of seconds, and the both of them knew that neither one of them wanted to let go. But they had to.

   He shut his car door and gave one last glance at the boy; his hair was dancing in the wind.

   "Bye Yongie. Hope college treats you well."

   "Bye Gyehyeon."

   He rubbed his eyes and saw before him his T.V.; he was in his bedroom bundled up in the blankets atop his bed, semi-wet hair kissing his eyebrows and yet another glass half empty of lemonade on his nightstand. He flicked his eyes over to the drink, rolling his eyes as he thought about how it was as if the second he started sipping it, he started reliving every summer prior. He looked back at the T.V. and found it playing some reality show. He snickered when a woman started hollering about some nonsense, but got washed away in thought for the nth time that night when he saw a man that looked eerily similar to a boy he met during his third summer.

   Since his parents were generous enough to send him off to college with plenty of money, but not fortunate enough to have a scholarship like others he knew, Yongseung had to room on campus; he wasn't bummed in the slightest, for truly experiencing college was to live on campus for a year or two right? The midnight hall parties, waking up to someone vomiting just outside your door, the late night chats with the neighboring room, it all sounded so fun to Yongseung. And it was; he had the time of his life freshman year, persistently accompanied by his roommate.

   He clearly remembered his roommate being a child. No, he wasn't actually a child, but the vibrant innocence that radiated from his wide grin and his little giggles that sounded like a baby's were enough to convince the boy that his roommate was most definitely on the childish side.

   Yongseung vividly remembered the boy's smile; it was wide, it was bright, and it was always plastered on whenever the older was around. It was a bit hazy, but he remembered his hair being a plum color - because that was his favorite color, and did that make Yongseung coo for the boy more. It was like coming home every day after classes to his little brother, sitting cross legged on his bed with a beaming grin, elated that his older brother returned and excited to tell him everything that happened that day. He was like a puppy, and that was the love Yongseung had for the boy: puppy love. Sweet, adorable, beautiful puppy love.

   Now while the older didn't think the younger boy worshiped him, it was a tad obvious that whenever Yongseung shuffled through the door, the boy would instantly perk up, cast his pencil aside and scoot to the edge of his bed and ask the same question he always did: "What did you do today, and don't leave anything out."

   Most of Yongseung's third summer in this vicious cycle was spent on the boy's bed; the younger insisted upon it, that it felt weird without him on it. And so, with a fake scoff and a secret blush of his cheeks, he sat on the boy's bed doing everything you can imagine: homework and projects that made him want to pull out his hair, - why did he choose the hardest major? - reading series after series from his favorite author while the younger took peeks every so often and asked what was going on, eating both of their kitchen creations that left their oven so messy that they had to play rock-paper-scissors to see who had to clean it - spoiler alert: it was always Yongseung.

   Their bond grew so strong that summer that it was probably the hardest to leave the boy. He got accepted into his dream school, and the older was beyond happy for him. And when he told him that he'll be leaving in a month, Yongseung knew it would sting, but what he didn't know was how much of that hurt he was going to carry with him for the months after. Sure, it hurt to leave the previous two boys, but something about the boy's pearly eyes and infectious smile made it so incredibly hard to let the boy out of his arms.

   "You can let go of me Yong, I'm not going to die."

   "But I will without you." He lent back and met the boy's eyes. They were glassy, and that made Yongseung's chest tighten. "Hey, no crying, you've done enough of that."

   The hand on his cheek raised as he smiled. "I'm going to miss the late night marathons."

   "I will too," Yongseung said, now holding onto the boy's shoulders. "But you'll have so much fun. Trust me."

   He nodded with a tight lipped smile. He looked over at his car, inhaled, and glanced back at Yongseung. "I'll call you once I arrive."

   "Please, I wanna hear all about it." Yongseung grinned. "And don't leave anything out!" He tapped the younger's nose.

   The boy giggled; he was pulled into a tight, almost bone-crushing last hug and when Yongseung blinked, he was seated in his car.

   His fingers were white around the steering wheel. "Bye bye Yongs."

   "Bye bye Kangmin."

   Yongseung flipped over and pouted. He couldn't sleep funnily enough; he wonders why. He glared up at the empty glass on his nightstand, sparkling like crystals as the moon hit it from his parted curtains. He looked away and stuffed more of the blankets into his arms, curling them into a ball and squishing them against his chest. It was a habit of his, one he thought only he had until he entered his sophomore year of college.

   No, Yongseung told himself. Not again.

   But much like his endless summer cycle, he couldn't stop his mind from drifting back to the most recent boy, one he left just weeks prior. Screw you, addicting lemonade!

   His Introduction to Programming class was, if he remembers correctly, very lively. He sat with a girl he knew from his earlier classes and her boyfriend and they - for the most part - got their work done and even had a couple outbursts themselves, miniscule in number to the amount the rest of his class had. He expected it every time he opened the door, he expected it every time the professor stopped lecturing to take a sip of water, and he definitely did expect it when he gave them five minute breaks between extra challenging concepts. They weren't annoying outbursts, just harmless pranks and silly gags that even had the professor laughing, so all in all, his Programming class was really fun; and it quickly became his favorite class, but not because of its liveliness, but because of a certain boy.

   The blondie always sat with the loudest group of guys; and as much as he disliked how inconsiderate they were of other students around them - all they did was talk and sometimes, Yongseung wanted to throw his keyboard at them - that certain boy was always focused and wrote down everything the professor said, as if the other four didn't exist. It baffled him because no matter how hard he tried, he would always miss something due to the group's howls.

   It irked Yongseung beyond reason, and yet each time he thought about it whilst fisting his hair in frustration, it always led to that boy. He looked almost like a cartoon character; large, round eyes, rosy cheeks, toothy smile. It was adorable, Yongseung admitted, but he merely would stare a tad too long then shake his head and get back to work. That's how it always was: mentally cursing the group of five, thinking about how pretty the boy was, then blinking before clicking away on his keyboard.

   One time, however, when Yongseung was in the back of the library the boy appeared; the younger had fistfuls of black hair clamped by his head and eyes gawking down at his paper when a laptop slid itself into view. He nearly flew out of his chair, and the boy chuckled.

   "Need help?"

   Yongseung was fixing his notes when he replied sheepishly, "Yeah. You look like you understand everything Mrs. Min is telling us." He weakly chuckled. "And I don't."

   He couldn't quite understand how they got along so well that afternoon. It was strange because it never happened to him before; he never had the ability to strike up a conversation as effortlessly as he did, become friends with someone in a matter of minutes. They fit together so perfectly, Yongseung thought, and that's what made it the most difficult to leave.

   Since their encounter in the library, the blondie proposed it be routine: get out of class, swing by the cafeteria or coffee shop down the road, and plop down at a table near the window to finish the work they didn't get done in class. Yongseung loved it, treasured the time he got alone with the boy and he could tell the older enjoyed it all the same (as if locking pinkies under the table wasn't an obvious sign enough). He adored everything about the blondie, things as cute as his crooked teeth and things as stupid as ordering a hot chocolate, only to set it aside and drink it later.

   "Why don't you just get chocolate milk?" Yongseung asked as the boy pushed it to the center of their table.

   The boy smiled and said, "Because I like the taste of it lukewarm and cold better than it burning hot." He flipped open his binder and the other felt a knee caress his. "And because I don't want to be called a child."

   Oh, but the pair were more like squealing toddlers than the young adults they really were; they loved stuffed animals more than their siblings, their diet consisted of fried food and sugary drinks - mainly because the older hated any green food -, and they regularly watched animated kids shows or movies together. It was sort of blissful; it was like he was reliving his childhood with a boy that felt all too similar to himself. Yongseung - in his entire 22 years of living - has never met someone else who likes flat drinks compared to carbonated ones, who removes the tomato on their BLT because it got in the way, who drowns their pizzas and pastas in marinara sauce because, God, is that stuff's good.

   And, as Yongseung stared up at his dorm ceiling whilst listening to the boy snores and petting his hair, he realized just how hard it was going to be to leave him this summer. He was moving; he bought an apartment down in the city, and it just so happened - just so perfectly happened to fit into this miserable cycle - that the boy couldn't follow him into the city, for he only wanted an associates degree and he got a life-changing job offer in a different city.

   It hurt. It hurt more than leaving the previous, and Yongseung sounded like a broken record at this point, but he knew, both of them knew, it was because they liked each other. But no one wanted to admit it; not even when they were sitting on the steps of their campus building.

   The boy sighed. "I'll miss this."

   Yongseung blinked and looked at their intertwined hands. "Same here." He almost choked on the lump in his throat. 'I've heard those words so many times that I think I'll get sick.'

   A white car pulled up to the entrance; the boy's mom. The younger felt their hands slip away. "Fuck."

   "Hey, don't make this a bad thing." Yongseung pulled them up to stand. "You're going to work on government computers. You should be excited." He smiled, but it hurt.

   He could tell it hurt the other too, but it was cute nonetheless. "But you won't be with me."

   Yongseung could have broken down into tears right then, but he just chuckled. "You should stop watching those dramas, they're having a negative effect on you."

   The boy hummed and nodded. The car suddenly honked, and that caused the boy to leap into Yongseung, coiling his arms around the younger and squeezing him so tight that he was sure he'll pop.

   "Please, please, please call me tonight." His voice was muffled. "It's the only way I can fall asleep now."

   Yongseung weakly chuckled. "Those dramas are really taking over huh? Such a charming little man you are." He caressed his highlighted hair.

   "I hate you" They pulled apart and locked eyes. Yongseung watched him approach the car, look back and wave with a toothy grin. He only now left the emptiness in his hand.

   "See ya Kim Seung!" His shout echoed down the road.

   "See ya Yeonho."

   When Yongseung rolled over and rubbed at his face, he only then felt the tears; he couldn't understand why he was crying, but as he was brushing his teeth the next morning, it came to him: maybe he was just lonely. Maybe he was remembering his past summer crushes was because his body was finally taking charge and saying 'Hey you lonely fuck! Time to get you a partner!' But, as he massaged his hair dry, he felt ill when thinking about it. He, for some reason, couldn't picture himself in a relationship, and he reasoned that to be because of his summer cycle. His body, though longing for something different, didn't want to; he felt scared but he morphed that into a form of excitement because he shouldn't be worrying about his past flings on his first day at his new job.

   Yongseung fixed his tie in the bathroom mirror. He had about 3 more minutes until his work day started, and in all honesty, he was intimidated by everyone here, the receptionist included. This company was just so high-end and everyone felt so entitled and the floors were too shiny to be normal - Yongseung was panicking to say the least. He flicked his wrist and his watch flashed '9:59'.

   "Here goes nothing." He smoothed his hair and tucked it behind his ears. "June 5th. Computer Programmer for...a big company, I don't know, they pay well."

   Yongseung exited the bathroom and made a beeline for the meeting room. The receptionist said he'll meet one of his team members there and he'll escort him around and tell him his duties from then on. As nervous as he was, his excitement was through the roof: he got to have his dream job working alongside pretty - or so Yongseung believed - people.

   He was proven right, for when he opened the glass door and stepped inside, a man with wavy brown hair tied in a messy knot looked up and smiled. As he stood up - he was hunched over the table - his glasses almost fell off his nose, and they both shared an awkward chuckle.

   "Yongseung right?"

   "Yes sir."

   "Great! I'm Minchan, and I can't wait to start working with you." 

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BITCH IM SUCH AN AUTHOR THIS SHORT IS SAUR TASTY MY FAV SO faR

ALSO VRVR FULL ALBUM???? VRVR IN A BOXING RING??? PUNCH ME IN THE THROAT???? 

but istg this new vrvr album is gonna slay like already aoty

till next time <3