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"Why do you want me to hate Korn?"
"Because I know how you feel about Korn." Instead of stepping towards his crying mother to console her, Win staggers back. "It was all because of my stupid idea of trying to break you two apart."
Win doesn't understand, and the why? is written all over his face.
"I knew it was impossible but I still tried. I wanted Korn to get engaged with Lin. It's my fault"
His mom continues to weep, but Win can barely hear it past the rushing in his ears.
She tries to explain herself further.
"I thought it would be easier this way-"
"Easier for who? For you?"
"Not easier," she tries to backpedal, but it sounds hollow, "I thought if you had some time apart, you might be able to move on, find a nice girl to-"
The truth sits like a leaden weight in his gut, holding him in place and turning him cold.
"I'm gay, Mae," he says, and it sounds far away. He has never said the words aloud, before, and he never thought he would have to. "I was never going to find a 'nice girl' and Korn was always going to be my first love."
His mom looks genuinely pained at the declaration, as if this should be some kind of surprise after how she found them standing on the jetty, Korn's hands on Win's face. As if the thought of her only son being gay was some kind of great wound.
"I'm sorry-" The look, the admittance of shame on his mother's behalf, is certainly a wound inflicted on Win, one that cuts deep and keeps bleeding and bleeding and bleeding. "This is all my fault," his mom is inconsolable, at this point, beating her own chest, seemingly too distraught to realize the damage that's been done.
Eyes hot and heart slowly bleeding out, Win pushes past his mom, past his sister and Non, and starts running down the wavebreak. He hears them call his name, hears footsteps behind him, but it just makes him run faster. Past the rocks, the cars, and into the grasslands.
Finally, he can't run any further and he stands there, bent over at the waist, fighting tears back between gasps for breath, the fire in his lungs quickly being rivaled by the fire of his temper.
Arms wrap around him from behind, tugging him against a flat chest, and Win tenses to lash out when he hears a breathless "Win" in a familiar voice. Oh. Korn. Win sags against him, letting Korn hold him, just for a moment. He can allow this, with his back turned, where nobody, not even Korn, can see his weakness. He had started to tear down his walls for Korn, let him see all his vulnerable parts, but all it did was make it so his mom's words struck right at the heart of him. He can't bear to be seen like this. But he lets himself be held, just for a moment, while he tries and fails to rebuild his defenses behind a wall of anger. It's hard to grasp on to, though, with Korn there. But, of course, he manages it.
"Win, your mother didn't mean it like that," Korn tries to plead, "She didn't mean to-" That anger was easier to find than he expected. Like always, Win doesn't let him finish.
"Yes she did," Win snaps back, tugging away from him.
"Remember what the abbots said? About asking if anger serves you? You're allowed to be upset— of course you are— but you can't let this-" Win interrupts again
"That's easy for you to say— you didn't have to run a dairy farm all on your own," Win spits, viciously kicking a rock.
"Nothing about this has been easy for me," Korn's voice is soft and when Win whips his head up to look at him, the pain is clear on his face.
Fuck. He'd hurt him again. Why does he always hurt him? Is this all he's good for?
Where before he was setting himself apart, prickly as ever, Win pushes himself to finally approach Korn again, to close that gap they had only barely managed to bridge before his mother came in and threw a bomb on it all. He reaches for Korn's hands and sighs in relief when Korn takes them without hesitation.
"I'm sorry," Win apologizes emphatically. The way Korn squeezes his hands tight tells him he's been forgiven, yet again. He really doesn't deserve him.
"I've been in love with you since we were kids," Win admits to their clasped hands, not able to look Korn in the eyes as he says this, "I was so mad and hurt, so stupid, and I thought it would be enough to just forget about you. But it wasn't. While we were fighting, I thought about you nearly every day. You were always on my mind."
Korn lets go of his hands and for a minute Win panics, thinking some how, in some way, he had misunderstood. But Korn just takes Win's face in his hands again, cradling it gently, and rudely makes Win look him in the eye, "Me too. I was never angry at you. All I did was think about you and hope that one day we would be friends again."
"Is that what you want? To be friends?"
"I think we might be past that," Korn points out, "Seeing as you just admitted to being in love with me." Win cringes and tries to pull away but Korn just holds him there, "I feel the same."
"Really... when?"
Korn shrugs, "There wasn't one single moment. It was a gradual thing, until one day I realized that I had liked you as more than a friend for a while." This declaration from Korn sent Win soaring, elated, before reality had him crashing back down. His face crumples, tears in his eyes.
"Win?" Korn sounds alarmed, and fairly so. He starts rubbing Win's cheeks with his thumbs, as if wiping away the other man's tears before they can even start to fall, as if he can smudge out the heartbroken look on Win's face.
"Me too," Win's breath hitches as he tries to hold it together, "That's how it was for me, too."
"Then what's wrong?"
"It's been seven years," Win sobs, "I've tried to hate you for seven years. All for something my mom orchestrated— and for what? So you can end up with my sister?"
"It was a little misguided..."
"It was cruel," Win corrects, "And it was self serving." And bigoted. He doesn't say it, but it's true, and Korn can hear it anyway.
"I don't think she meant it the way it came out," Korn tries to say, beseeching, "I think she was taken aback, I don't think-"
"Why are you defending her?"
"Because she's your mom and she loves you," Win isn't convinced of this at the moment, "But more importantly, because you love her. And I don't want you to destroy your relationship with her over a misunderstanding. Over a mistake." Win opens his mouth to retort, probably something snide and rude, but Korn doesn't let him, "I know what it's like to lose you because you've made the wrong call. I don't want to see that happen to the two of you."
Win deflates at that, sagging, at a loss now that Korn won't let him have his anger, "I don't know how to forgive her. I don't know how to look at her the same way, knowing how she really feels about me."
"And how does she really feel?"
"Like she wishes I wasn't gay."
Korn flinches, "You don't know that." But this time, his reassurance rings a little hollow. Because he doesn't know— he suspects, he hopes. But he doesn't know. "Please just talk to her."
Win wants to say no. He wants to pull back, hold out, and be every bit as stubborn as he always has been. But all he can think of is what the abbots said, and how, just like as Korn reminded him, they beseeched Win to give people a chance to prove him wrong. To not prioritize his anger and his resentment and to instead make sure there were no misunderstandings. To not let those feelings ruin him.
"Okay," Win concedes, "I'll talk to her."
The smile Korn gives him is dazzling. He leans in without thinking and kisses Win, right on the lips, their very first. It's short and breathtaking, and Win is a little dazed when Korn pulls away to beam at him.
"What was that for?"
"I wanted to." Win's face warms happily.
"Tell me you like me again," Win needles.
"I like you," Korn says back easily, as if it's the simplest thing in the world, "And I want to kiss you." He does it again.
"You can do that," Win says, a little breathless.
"You know what else I want to do? I want to kiss you. I want to sniff kiss you. I want to hold you." Between each thing, he gives an example, and in the end they stand there, Korn with his arms around Win, holding onto him tight.
Win is on top of the world, he's so in love. He's still anchored to the ground by the weight in his heart left by his mother, pulling him back down from cloud nine, but it's easy to get lost in the moment, Korn is good at that— at drawing Win's attention and keeping it. At being exactly what Win needs when he needs it. Win would feel guilty about it, wonder if he was taking advantage, if he wasn't too busy basking in the warmth of Korn's affection .
Korn nuzzles his cheek, inhaling deeply, and Win grins.
"We can do this— the farm, your mom, everything," Korn says, muffled from where his lips are still pressed to Win's face.
"Together?"
"Together."