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1 ~
Ever since they could remember, Beomgyu and Yeonjun hadn’t gotten along. They constantly clashed and grappled against each other, snarky remarks dancing on the tip of their tongues.
Beomgyu was eight, and Yeonjun had been ten when the now familiar remark first emerged through Yeonjun’s lips. They had been at a summer camp, and all the kids were engaged in an intense battle; water balloons and water guns serving as their weapons.
Beomgyu shivered as he hugged his water gun closer to body, the tip pointed outwards, searching for any potential targets. What Beomgyu didn't suspect was to get attacked from behind. It was already too late to defend himself when he felt a vast quantity of water drench his shivering form, almost toppling him over with the force of the impact. He turned around to face a smirking Yeonjun, who was holding an empty grey bucket in the claps of his fingers. Yeonjun chuckled seeing Beomgyu’s soaked form.
“You look like a pixie boy,” he snickered, flicking a finger against Beomgyu’s wet bangs which were now glued to his forehead. Yeonjun’s friends chortled, as if they had heard the most hilarious joke in existence, and slapped Yeonjun on the back approvingly.
With that they left, their water guns on standby. Their eyes shifting and flickering in every direction, as they searched for any other potential targets.
Beomgyu sighed as he hugged his quivering body, his harbouring feelings of despise for the older boy growing larger.
2 ~
Beomgyu yelped as he leapt to the floor, a ball almost colliding with his stomach. He looked up to see Yeonjun standing on the other side of the court, pouting at having missed his target. The pair were currently engaged in an intense battle of dodgeball, and despite the fact that there were several other students left in the game, Beomgyu and Yeonjun were ferociously fighting to take the other one down.
Beomgyu rolled over on the ground as another ball attempted to strike his arm, his long hair falling over his eyes and fanning his face in the process.
He heard his enemy let out a giggle, and Beomgyu peeked out through his long bangs to see Yeonjun standing on the other side, a hand placed on his hip.
“You look like a pixie boy,” the older boy said, an annoying smirk plastered on his face.
Beomgyu immediately got flashbacks to six years ago.
There was no way he was going to let Yeonjun beat him again, he decided, his hand reaching for a stray ball lying next to him.
Beomgyu let out a battle cry as he jumped to his feet, propelling the ball aggressively in Yeonjun’s direction. He felt a satisfactory feeling soar through his body at seeing the surprise expression quickly dawning on Yeonjun’s face.
The ball hit him square in the face, sending Yeonjun toppling to the ground.
(Detention was worth it).
3 ~
Beomgyu sighed as the orange flavoured drink splattered across the front of his perfectly tailored black suit. He reached for a handful of napkins lying nearby on the table with the beverages, before proceeding to wipe down the spill. He cursed his clumsy fingers upon seeing the stubborn stain the drink left behind. “I knew there was a reason why I always hated school dances,” he muttered to himself, faking a smile when a teacher glanced in his direction.
His fingers reached for another napkin, only to discover to his disappointment that the napkin dispenser was now empty. He groaned, searching the area for something else to use, when his roaming eyes locked with Yeonjun’s, who was standing on the other side of the dance floor, mingling with a few friends. Beomgyu could see Yeonjun’s silhouette, blurred against the vivid purple and pink neon lights of the dance floor, as he started making his way towards him.
On seeing the younger boy’s distressed state, Yeonjun pulled out a tissue, and despite the fact that the tissue had been in his front pocket, it barely looked unwrinkled and was free from any creases.
“Here, use this.”
Beomgyu smiled gratefully, as he took the tissue from Yeonjun’s outstretched hand.
“Thanks.”
They had never really acknowledged the moment where they crossed the line from two people who were constantly at each other’s throats, to two people who now shared a mutual understanding. Nothing significant occurred that allowed them to cross that line either. Beomgyu believed it probably had something to do with them both maturing as they got into the higher levels of their schooling years, and both him and Yeonjun realising that their petty arguments weren’t worth their time anymore.
Yeonjun chuckled softly watching as Beomgyu ran a hand through his hair, which was styled in a half up half down way.
“You look like a pixie boy,” Yeonjun said. Yet this time there was a genuine smile dancing on his lips.
4 ~
Beomgyu was walking to class when he felt an arm slinging around his neck.
“Happy birthday, Beoms, you’re finally eighteen,” Yeonjun grinned, pulling out a small velvet box out of his pocket using his free hand. Beomgyu immersed himself in the soft sound of Yeonjun’s voice, warm and welcoming in contrast to the chilly, wintry morning.
“Thank you hyung,” he replied, gratitude sparkling in his dark eyes, as he took the small box from Yeonjun and peeked inside.
“I have to go, I’ll talk to you later,” Yeonjun said, ruffling his friend’s hair affectionately. He smiled tenderly at the younger boy when a few strands of hair brushed over Beomgyu’s face. “You look like a pixie boy,” he said fondly, flicking back the strands from Beomgyu’s eyes.
The remark didn’t seem to convey the same insulting tone it once had. He left, leaving Beomgyu standing in place, wonderstruck and blushing all the way to class, with a smile playing on his lips.
+1 ~
Beomgyu leaned back as he stared down at Yeonjun’s face. He admired the way the light flickered across his boyfriend’s fox-like eyes, and the way that he was looking right back at him, adoration and fondness etched into his eyes. Beomgyu’s own affection for the older mirrored back at him through Yeonjun’s facial expressions.
He leaned back down to slowly kiss Yeonjun on the lips, as Yeonjun wrapped his arms around his waist to keep him steady on his lap.
“You look like a pixie boy,” Yeonjun murmured against his lips. “So ethereal.”
Beomgyu chuckled, “Careful now darling, words can have a habit of becoming our reality.”
He leans back, watching as confusion clouds Yeonjun’s eyes.
“It feels like I spent forever wondering if you knew, but now I believe that that remark held no actual meaning. Other than the obvious, that is, you think I look like a pixie.” Beomgyu continues as he gestures to his long mane, a soft smile on his face as he rapidly blinked three times. “But maybe you were right all these years.”
Beomgyu attempted to keep his expression neutral as he felt a growing sensation in the tips of his ears.
He watched with satisfaction as Yeonjun’s expression shifted from one of confusion, to surprise, to bewilderment, to astonishment, as a dainty pair of wings shot out from the top of Beomgyu’s back, and fluttered like confetti against the soft breeze emerging from the open window.
He smiled, “You look like a little wonderstruck, hyung.”