The lights of Yoonjae's apartment flickered on with ease. Yoonjae relaxed under it. His shoes were slipped off and his legs ached from today. Grading so many papers really sent him up the roof. His back hurt, his eyes burned from standing in chemical lighting all day. Luckily, in his home, some lightbulbs were replaced with old, yellow ones he spent over ten dollars on from the local dollar tree. It was a block down, Yoonjae didn't have a car. Easy win, right?
Not when it came with tunneling through snow.
Yoonjae enjoyed every bit of the rain, though. The snowy conditions always made him giggle.
He breathed softly. It echoed through his spacious apartment. The yellow couches covered in socks and blankets looked hungry tonight. Yoonjae limped over to it. Plopping down, he whined once. The room screeched poor. His TV is twenty inches and his coffee table had cups from five below all over it. He kicked his socked feet up and winced. The ankle, he nearly forgot. If not for the man to point it out.
Goodness, Yoonjae can't believe he really ruined his chances like that. Being so silly. Well, it's not like he had many chances. Not to be racist and sterotypical but...most people around this area don't even like gay individuals. Yoonjae realized that three days after moving into this apartment. But, surprisingly, he hadn't run into any problems.
That may be more linked to the fact that he never had anybody to bring over so no one knew he was what he was.
It's unlikely any other person here is actually like him.
And Andrei appeared as though he was probably the straightest man Yoonjae had ever met! Ugh! He smelled so good and sounded so fresh and....! Goodness! His voice was deep and raspy, scratched every urge in Yoonjae.
That man was....
Delicious in a sugar rush way!
But Yoonjae should use his brain more. They'd never be together. Ugh....Andrei Smirnov. It's a fitting name for such a strong and lumberjack-type of man. He probably downs whiskies and calls women at bars 'doll.' Or something in that teasing, expensive voice. And his blonde hair...
It was so shimmery and gorgeous. It looked so soft! Yoonjae wanted to breathe it in. He's weird, he knows. It, just, was beautiful and Yoonjae doesn't see that enough. Or get close enough to things that glow in the dark. And he definitely knows that guy shampoos with something expensive and hot.
And he was an older guy. Mature and attractive...
A whole two years. Maybe more...depending on the months, hihi.
Goodness, Yoonjae, shut up.
Snap out of it.
He is clearly straight! As a pole! He didn't even seem that interested, anyway! He was all sighs and eye-rolls.
And he smokes cigarettes.
Ciggies are bad, remember, Yoonjae? They were what got Ty killed? Or maybe, it was that he was shot and robbed, but seriously! Cigarettes are bad.
But he looked so...honest.
It took a lot of confidence to nearly smoke in front of someone you don't even know. Pride. He was so handsome....goodness.
And he is an artist.
It was all over him. A man who worked hard.
Yoonjae sometimes wished he had more work. He'd become stressed and a plus would be becoming thin! As Yoonjae is a bit overweight...But, the workload wasn't that bad. At all. Grading twenty-three coloring sheets wasn't hard. Art must've been. It was really pathetic. He should've stuck with contemporary dance.
Huff, huff.
Andrei seemed so cool. And straight. Spaghetti. Pole. Pole. Pole.
He didn't like guys. Yoonjae should remember that. But goodness, he wanted to be cuddled by that big guy and be carried all the time. Every time they spoke.
Whatever! Ever! Ever!
Yoonjae sunk deeper into his couch. He'll just grade those papers tomorrow. His mind strayed away at the idea....
To the first time they ever met.
December 2025
Yoonjae pushed a box into his brand new apartment. It smelled like pine leaves and looked as much as it costed. Eighteen hundred a month. It sounded cheap compared to other Little Odessa apartments. But for the broke boy named Yoonjae, who also just changed his job from being a middle school teacher to someone who watches tiny children run around for ten dollars an hour, was clutching his pearls at that price.
His last apartment, in upstate New York, was six hundred a month and it was a townhouse. His landlord lived downstairs and made complaints left and right. Yoonjae didn't make noise, yet, the police still showed up one faithful morning and threatened to kick him out if he didn't stop making noise. The place was roach infested anyway so Yoonjae argued, or well, politely denied the claims, with the cops for two minutes and immediately started searching.
This building was listed as the cheapest in New York City. Yoonjae doubted it until he saw that apartments could be rented for a hundred bucks. The boy is a fanatic so he obviously didn't believe that. He went with the house that seemed normal enough.
Price-wise, anyway.
The new view was the vision. The hard wooden floors and the fact that his landlord was an old Russian man with an accent thicker than blood who said 'just be careful with your money, kid," when he put down the security made everything perfect.
So he really liked it. Then, while loading the last of it into the door, this man walked by. Smelling like charcoal and chocolate. Yoonjae gulped, his eyes followed him. He strut. Walked tall and strong with wide shoulders and a slim waist. It wasn't the first time Yoonjae had seen someone like him. He'd seen him working at the front desk downstairs. Or yelling at them, his memory too hazy to remember clearly.
His blonde hair flowed down his neck lusciously. As if that wasn't enough, he wore a Kanye West hoodie with thick black sweats. A book bag hung off of one shoulder and a motorcycle helmet sat budged between his arm and waist. It looked tiny compared to him. He couldn't be less than six feet. That distant gaze in those grey-ish eyes flickered when he glanced at Yoonjae spoke to the pink-haired boy. It said things like, 'spread your legs,' and, 'follow me.' Yoonjae was tempted. Too tempted.
The smaller boy sat on the floor, clutching the box. The guy cocked a brow. He did a single bro-nod or something and walked past. Goodness gracious.
"He is so handsome...." The boy breathed into his own head.