60 seconds is enough for this story

6 0 초 면 충 분 한 Story

two years later, there will be two lovers. kim jongin and oh sehun. two dancers meeting behind the white-washed walls of studios, stealing glances and touches for the mirrors to witness. they'll be coated in sweat, their muscles strained with the steps, but it'll be worth it. worth it like the day jongin will cover sehun's room with white rose petals because they remind him of home, and home is something jongin wants to be to sehun.

months after this, they'll be a single entity; limbs wrapped around each other to the point where it's difficult to separate which is which. not that anyone has to. jongin and sehun will both be the arms supporting the heavy load life dumps on them, they'll be the tears at four o'clock when it's too dark to see where the ghost of depression is hiding. separation won't do anyone good.

"you have me." jongin will say, rubbing small circles on sehun's back. and sehun will turn around and plant a kiss on jongin's lips because those three words will be enough to get him through the vigorous hours of practicing, all those minutes of 'you're not good. why are you even trying. give up.'. sehun's kisses will be fertile. they will bloom into reddish spots against the coffee-tone of jongin's skin. other times, they will be leafy remarks after dinner when their stomachs are filled with kyungsoo, their mutual friend's, kimchi spaghetti.

the vivid taste of spices will not be lost on them. in fact, it will be preserved by the heat of their tongues as they tumble into their bedroom, bodies moving in an unchoreographed dance only they could pull off. their names will be suspended in mid-summer's breeze whooshing through the opened window. shredded moans and frantic fingers. this will be what jongin and sehun is all about.

but it will not be all that splendid. come winter and you'll have sehun fiddling to zip his luggage. it will be stuffed with the nearest clothes on his drawer, his 'good luck' sneakers, and fragments of the night he caught jongin fucking a man that of course, isn't sehun. yells will poison the walls where i love you's, you mean a lot to me, i'm not gonna leave you are hanged.

"please please please, don't leave me. i was drunk, please don't leave me." jongin will plead, words getting caught in the web of his muffled sobs.

"i don't see what's the point anymore." sehun will admit, hands tight on the handle of his bag, towing it down the bed and out of the room.

and jongin will not remember how he did it, but he will somehow manage to run to sehun and cage him in his arms, begging for him towait for six minutes. that's all i ask. if i'm still not here after six minutes, then you can leave and i won't stop you. i won't wait for you or turn the whole Seoul upside down just to find you. i'll leave you alone. but please, stand still and wait for me. six minutes.

five minutes later and sehun will be a mixture of sweaty palms and fidgeting toes. even before the long hand of sehun's wrist watch ticks to twelve, marking the promised six minutes, jongin will show up. he'll be ragged, eyes red and frantic. in his shaking hand, there will be a stack of white roses.

"i got them from the neighbor next block. i think the only reason why i made it on time was because their dog started chasing me." jongin will explain and sehun will puff his cheeks and bite his lower lip to prevent laughter from bursting out. jongin will hand them to sehun, fresh and away from any domestic animal. tears will blur sehun's vision, because he nearly forgot white roses and how much they mean to him and jongin.

and jongin will suddenly drop on the floor, sit down to take one rose from sehun. he'll start plucking the soft whites and chant, "stay because you love me." then another petal. "leave because i'm a bastard."

"stay because i'm jongin."

"leave because i'm a bastard."

"stay because we still didn't finish watching the re-runs of running man."