[fic] coagulation, 1/2
Title: Coagulation
Pairing: Kangin/Leeteuk
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-15
Notes: KangTeuk love feels like a warm, all-encompassing love to me. One that catches you no matter how badly you fall, one that never gives up on you, no matter how far gone you are. So, uh, yeah. That was how this was inspired.
Word Count: 13,000
Summary: “He likes fixing broken things, you know. Televisions, bicycles-and people. Youngwoon likes fixing people. And you were just so broken and he was so ready to take on this new project, but I swear, Jungsu, he didn’t know it at the time, but he had completely fallen for you.”
“I-what?” Jungsu stares blankly, flabbergasted and speechless.
“I said, we’re done,” Heechul repeats curtly. Jungsu searches his face for a hint of something, anything-but all he sees is iciness-the same iciness that he had when they first met.
“But why? What did I do wrong?” It’s been three years-three years of this relationship-he doesn’t know what happened. Up until now, Jungsu didn’t even realize that Heechul wanted things to end. He didn’t notice at all.
His boyfriend-ex-boyfriend?-huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s the thing, Jungsu. You don’t do anything. You’re so regular and normal and…boring. I can’t stand it anymore.”
He blinks. “But I thought that’s what you wanted…I thought you wanted stability.”
“I wanted stability, not stagnation!” Jungsu’s eyes widen at his outburst. “Stability doesn’t mean going to the same café every Sunday afternoon-it doesn’t mean going to the same family restaurant on Friday nights! It doesn’t mean always watching a movie at home when we want a date, or just-it’s always the same thing over and over, Jungsu, doesn’t that tire you?”
He’s never felt that way-not even once. Jungsu has always loved being with Heechul, so it didn’t matter where they were, or what they were doing. For him, Heechul’s eccentric personality already provided enough excitement for him.
“I’ll change,” he promises. “We’ll do different things-I’ll do better!”
Heechul shakes his head, albeit a little sadly. “That’s the thing about you, you know. You’re always so willing to bend to people’s wishes-just do what you want to do. Do what makes you happy.”
But you’re the one who makes me happy, so why wouldn’t I bend to your wish?
“You’re a really good guy, Jungsu,” Heechul continues softly. “Just…you’re not my guy.”
He swallows the lump in his throat, finding himself unable to speak. Is this it? Just like that, three years down the drain? “Don’t,” he finds himself begging. “Please.” I don’t know what I’d do without you.
“I already packed my things earlier today when you were at work,” Heechul says, ignoring him. “Clean breaks like this are good, right?”
No. Not at all. Any break with you isn’t good at all.
Jungsu stands there, frozen as Heechul fishes something out of his pocket. “Here. My key.” He leans in and kisses him on the cheek-something that Jungsu would normally enjoy, but this time, it feels like a parting kiss, one that wishes him well-“I guess I’ll see you around, then? I’ll be back once you’ve moved on.” He smiles weakly, but Jungsu can’t even bring himself to smile back. “Trust me, you’ll be glad that I’m gone. Once you don’t have to take care of me anymore, you can start taking care of yourself.” He turns on his heels and walks off, down the street, to nowhere, to everywhere-to a place where Jungsu won’t be.
He kneels down in the middle of the sidewalk, earning several odd glances as people walk by. “Why would I have to take care of myself, idiot,” he mutters, burying his face into the crook of his arm. “As long as I had you, everything was fine.”
-
He finds himself wasting away. He can’t go to work because he has to interact with people and put on a nice face, but finds that the four walls of his own home are constantly screaming at him. He can never decipher what they’re saying, but sometimes, he makes them out to be something like, Why didn’t you try harder to make him stay, it’s all your fault that he left, you never paid enough attention to him, you weren’t good enough, you’re stagnant, Jungsu, who on earth would want a stagnant boyfriend-
He cannot stand these walls yelling at him. He and Heechul used to sleep within these walls, eat within these walls, laugh, cry, make love-they used to make love within these walls.
Jungsu spends most of his days lying in bed, clutching the pillow Heechul used to sleep on, inhaling his scent. Other than night and day, he doesn’t know what time it is, and it takes twenty minutes of Hyukjae ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door before he finally drags himself out of bed to let him in, just so it’ll be quiet again so he can sulk in peace.
“It’s been a week,” Hyukjae says as he crawls back under his covers. “The least you could do is let people know that you’re alive.”
“I’m breathing, right? So yeah, I’m alive.” Unfortunately.
“Funny, man,” his friend replies, not sounding amused in the least. “God, when was the last time you’ve eaten anything? It looks like you’ve been starved!”
“Not hungry,” he mutters, pulling his covers over his head. “Go away.”
“Oh no, man, you are not messing with me today.” Hyukjae violently yanks the blankets away, causing Jungsu to flinch. “My dog peed all over my clothes this morning and my boss yelled at me over nothing, so you are getting up and eating, whether you like it or not.” He finds himself literally being towed out of bed by his friend and into the kitchen, his bare feet stumbling over each other. He can’t do this-the apartment is so big and empty without Heechul.
Because Hyukjae has never been much of a cook, he pours him a bowl of cereal. Upon discovering that that milk has gone bad, he sighs and dumps it out.
“Get dressed, Jungsu. We’re getting some milk.”
“It’s okay, I don’t really feel like milk right now anyway.” He’s sprawled over his kitchen table, his eyes lazily following his friend, who’s grabbing his jacket from the coat rack.
“We’re getting some milk.”
“You can get it yourself.”
Hyukjae pulls on his jacket, turns around, and stares at him. “We,” he repeats firmly, “are getting some milk.”
-
Jungsu finds himself outside for the first time in the week, and he thinks that the wind is bitterly cold.
He also thinks that people speak way too loudly in public-on their phones and to each other. He thinks everything is just generally too bright and bustling and just everything. It’s just too everything. By the time they reach the local grocery store, he is thoroughly irritated with the world. He just wants to go home and crawl into bed again.
Hyukjae’s grip is firm around his wrist though, as though nearly a decade of friendship has told him that he would consider slipping away when he’s not looking. They make their way to where the milk is stored, and Hyukjae grabs a carton and shoves it into Jungsu’s hands, before wandering off and says he wants chips and some other snacks. Jungsu is left standing there, with the cold carton of milk in his even colder hands, before he wanders after him.
He and Heechul used to get their groceries here. They would always argue over whether they should get banana or strawberry milk-before finally agreeing on strawberry nearly every time, because Jungsu just loves Heechul enough to stand that disgusting flavor.
(He would always come back later for the banana milk, though. He thinks Heechul knew, because sometimes, the aftertaste would still be in his mouth when they kissed, and his face would scrunch up in the most endearing way ever-but he never complained, so Jungsu thought that he loved him back enough to make a few compromises-)
Stop, he orders himself. Stop.
He finds Hyukjae in the snack aisle. “Can we go yet?”
Apparently in the middle of conversing with someone, his friend turns around. “Oh, yeah, just a sec. There are some other things I want to get…”
“Get it during your own time,” Jungsu mutters, looking away. The carton of milk is freezing.
“Oh, yeah, now that you’re here-Jungsu, this is Youngwoon.”
Jungsu glances at the person that Hyukjae was talking to, and nods slightly. “Nice to meet you.” Youngwoon is tall and looks tough-it figures that he’s Hyukjae’s friend.
“Hey.” The larger man holds out his hand. Jungsu cradles the carton with one arm and shakes it. He has warm hands. “I just met Hyukjae recently, but he’s told me a lot about you.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Jungsu smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
They fall into an awkward silence, and all he wants to do is go home. At least, when he’s at home, he replays the same scene in his mind-the one where Heechul leaves him-but when he’s out here, exposed to different things, different memories come crashing over him-intending to go grocery shopping, and going actual shopping instead, always spending more than their budget allows-
He grips the milk carton harder than necessary, and the cardboard gives way a little.
“Hey, you okay?” Youngwoon waves a hand in front of his face, and all Jungsu can do is nod and force a tight smile. Youngwoon looks like the type of guy who knows how to have fun, although a little stupid. Maybe they could be good friends, if Jungsu isn’t too hung up over Heechul to even care about showering daily.
Hyukjae returns to the aisle and finds him, waving him over. “C’mon, let’s go.” Jungsu nods a little in goodbye to Youngwoon, before following him. He doesn’t notice his eyes following him until he turned the corner, out of sight.
In fact, in the days to come, Jungsu’s going to realize that he doesn’t notice much of Youngwoon at all.
-
When they return to his apartment, Hyukjae finishes making Jungsu’s bowl of cereal, before plopping onto the couch and effectively staying there for the rest of the day. Somehow, from his spot in front of the television, he’s able to keep Jungsu from crawling back into bed-and before he leaves, he demands a spare key to his apartment.
“Heechul gave his back, didn’t he?” he says without any tact. Jungsu flinches at the name, and looks away. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I am not going through the same hell as I did today to get in.”
“You don’t have to come,” Jungsu mutters, but shuffles over to the counter to grab the key that’s sitting there desolately.
He’s grateful for his friend’s concern-really, he is. If Hyukjae isn’t around, hovering like the pest he is, Jungsu knows that something bad would’ve happened to him long ago. And he knows he’s treating his friend badly, but right now-right now, he just wants some time to himself.
“Thanks,” Hyukjae says with a smile, taking the key. “I have to go on a business trip for the next week or so, though, so do you think you can survive without me?”
He shrugs. “I always survive without you.”
“Right, right, of course.”
He spends the next two days alone, but he does feel a little better. Although Heechul still occupies the majority of his thoughts, he now has fresher memories of Hyukjae, and the stupid jokes he made.
By the third day, he breaks his record and gets out of bed before three in the afternoon. His appetite has kicked in a little, and he searches his kitchen for anything that hasn’t gone bad yet, and he eventually just settles for cereal again. He’s eating in the deafening silence with the screaming walls when the doorbell rings.
Jungsu imagines that it’s Heechul at the door, confessing that he’s changed his mind, that he regretted leaving him the moment he did it. He imagines pulling Heechul close, breathing him in and clutching him like his life depends on it-imagines things finally being right again.
Naturally, though, it’s not Heechul at the door. In fact, it’s someone that Jungsu totally didn’t expect.
“Hey.” Youngwoon’s smile looks a little embarrassed. “Can I come in?”
Part of Jungsu wonders how Youngwoon even knows where he lives, but he brushes that thought aside and lets him in.
“I, uh, know this is kind of weird.” Youngwoon walks with a sort of lumber, tilting from one side to the other. He scratches the back of his head. “Hyukjae just wants me to check up on you, I guess, since he’ll be gone for the next week. He’s pretty worried about you.”
“He worries too much.” Jungsu begins to feel awkward in his own home. “I’ll make you some tea.”
The next few minutes are spent in silence as he boils the water. He has no idea why Youngwoon’s in his home or what’s happening exactly, but at least it takes his mind off of Heechul. When he sits down across from the other man at the kitchen table with two cups of tea, an awkward silence falls onto them.
“Sorry it’s so messy,” he mutters. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m pretty messy too.” Silence again. “So…Hyukjae told me you like fishing.”
A little surprised, Jungsu raises his eyebrows at him. “Oh, I guess. I haven’t actually gone fishing in a while…you know, work and stuff.” And Heechul. Heechul’s always hated fishing, so ever since they started dating, he went less and less. Eventually, he just stopped altogether, but he never really minded.
“My dad used to take me fishing all the time,” Youngwoon says, drinking his tea. “He said it built character.”
“It gives you time to think. And it teaches you patience.” Jungsu can’t help but smile a little, feeling nostalgic. “Patience and waiting…is the only thing I’ve ever mastered, I think.”
“Let’s go fishing sometime,” the other man suggests. “Hyukjae told me that you’ve been having a hard time lately. Maybe going out and just thinking will help.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Jungsu agrees, not really taking him seriously. He hardly knows Youngwoon, so these are just formalities-everyone does that. Promise to do something, but never actually get around to doing it. He learned that from Heechul.
(Because if Heechul has ever done anything for Jungsu, it is showing him how to be realistic.)
“Now that I think about it,” he says suddenly, “what year were you born in?”
The conversation flows easily after that, and if Jungsu says that he doesn’t feel at least a little better after Youngwoon leaves, it would be a lie.
-
At the end of the week, he returns to work.
It’s not that he’s better-oh, of course he’s not-but both Hyukjae and Youngwoon have convinced him that it’s better to go out and keep himself occupied than to stay home and do nothing at all. He agrees, sometimes, but other times, he just wants to break the next thing that moves and go home.
Over the next month or so, Jungsu finds Youngwoon visiting a lot more. Occasionally, Hyukjae will tag along, but he’s usually alone. Jungsu doesn’t find this odd anymore-in fact, Youngwoon’s presence is almost like a relief. Because he’s still practically a stranger to him, there is much to learn-and when there is something to learn, you tend to forget about things like Kim Heechul. Youngwoon provides lively conversations, and is, in fact, quite intelligent, contrary to what Jungsu originally thought of him when they first met.
Jungsu is drinking some banana milk when Youngwoon visits that afternoon. He’s brought cake with him, for some reason, and he looks extra cheerful when he lets him in.
“It’s to celebrate,” Youngwoon kicks off his shoes and shuffles excitedly into the kitchen, “our three months of friendship.”
Jungsu raises his eyebrows. “Why would you want to celebrate that?”
“Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate that?” He sounds haughty. “Is that banana milk? Do you have any more?”
“Hm? Yeah, help yourself. It’s in the fridge.”
“Man, I can’t remember when I last had banana milk. I used to love it so much as a kid.” Youngwoon grabs a small bottle for himself before rummaging in Jungsu’s drawers with familiarity. He finds a knife and cuts the cake, handing a slice to Jungsu on a plate. “Here.”
He accepts it, although begrudgingly. “I still don’t know why we’re celebrating our friendship.”
“Oh, shut up, I just wanted to get you cake. Hyukjae said you liked tiramisu.”
“Oh. Well, I do.” He takes a seat at the kitchen table, across from Youngwoon-just like so many times before. It’s become a routine, a lifestyle of sorts-these summer afternoons with him, feeling the prickling heat in the air. “Thanks.”
Youngwoon, Jungsu has noticed, has a very subtle sort of compassion. He’s very different from Heechul-in situations where Heechul would boast about his kindheartedness, Youngwoon would hope that he doesn’t notice. In situations where Heechul wouldn’t know what to say to make things better, Youngwoon would pull out some weird proverb or something that his father told him as a kid, and the weight on his heart would ease a bit.
Jungsu hasn’t really opened up to Youngwoon yet, but he’s sharp-he’s picked up on things, from the pictures around the apartment, from the way Jungsu would avoid any and every topic concerning his love life, or that mysterious person in all of the photos.
(He still hasn’t gotten around to removing them, because they feel so precious-it feels like if he replaces them with more recent photographs-photographs of things that presently exist-he’ll have given up all hope. Because, despite everything, a foolish part of him is still hoping that one day, Heechul will come back.
Because that’s all he’s good at, after all. Waiting. Being stagnant.)
He’s getting better, though. At least, that’s what he’d like to think.
-
Except he’s not getting better. No, not at all, not one bit.
The real issue is, Jungsu usually overestimates himself. He often thinks that he’s rather decent at something, or that hey, he can pull off a flower boy look and clip up his bangs with a pretty beret sometimes-but in truth, he can’t do any of that. (Well, he could pull off being a flower boy in the past. Not so much anymore.)
The same applies here. He thought he was getting better.
Again? he thinks to himself when the doorbell rings. But he just came yesterday. And with cake, no less.
But the person standing there outside his door is not Youngwoon, like he expected.
“Uh…hey.” Heechul smiles sheepishly. “I just, uh…I left a pair of shoes, so I came back to get them.”
It takes a moment for Jungsu to snap out of his daze. “Oh, yeah, sure.” Heechul hasn’t changed-his hair might’ve gotten a little longer, but other than that, nothing has changed. He’s still beautiful, he still glows, is still radiant in Jungsu’s eyes-and Jungsu almost hates himself for it, because he seriously thought he was getting better.
But the same gut-wrenching feeling is back again, more distinct than ever and sitting in the pit of his stomach.
Heechul quickly grabs the pair of shoes that he left in the closet (Jungsu hasn’t even noticed them), and returns to the door, slipping into his current pair of shoes. “I guess that’s all,” he says, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”
He doesn’t even have time to formulate something intelligent. Something that might make him stay. “Yeah, see you.”
And he’s gone. Just like that, he’s gone.
For the longest time, Jungsu just stands there and stares at the door. The door that he let Heechul walk out of for the second time.
He should’ve done something in the time that he was gone. He should’ve gone out and done something new, something different. He should’ve stopped being stagnant-then maybe, when Heechul came back, he would’ve noticed something different. He would’ve been willing to give him another chance.
God, how can he be so stupid?
He turns around and leans against the door, closing his eyes. The walls are screaming again, louder than he remembers them to be. He let Heechul go again.
Suddenly feeling like he can’t be at home anymore, he grabs his keys, slips into a pair of sneakers, and leaves. It feels like he’s suffocating in this building-the apartment that he’s shared with Heechul for so long. They bought this place together, and during that time, Jungsu really thought that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Heechul must be living with his parents again-Jungsu was the only reason he ever left them.
It’s cloudy and gloomy outside, reflecting exactly how he feels. The air is humid and sticky, but it’s a relief to his lungs-he can breathe a little better out here.
The world is closing in on him again, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
He doesn’t know how long he aimlessly walks around for-but he figures for an hour or two, at least, because the sky is steadily darkening. It begins to get a little chilly out, despite it being summer, because he’s only wearing a t-shirt-he’ll go home soon, he figures. Just not now.
(Home, he thinks, isn’t quite home if Heechul isn’t there anyway.)
It begins raining eventually, and Jungsu isn’t sure if it’s ironic or poetic. It starts out as a light sprinkle at first, and he even relishes the moisture on his skin-but it begins to get heavier, until it all-out storms. At this point, he really should’ve started heading home, or at least find a place to take shelter to wait it out, but he hasn’t been in his right mind for the longest time now, so he just keeps walking. It doesn’t take long for him to be soaked to the bone and absolutely frozen-exactly how he feels.
He’s walking past an ice cream shop (one that he and Heechul used to go to all the time) when he hears his name being called. Faintly, at first, so he ignores it, assuming it’s some stupid voice in his head (because it does happen), but when it gets increasingly louder, he turns around, blindly pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes.
“Jungsu! What the hell!” It’s Youngwoon, he faintly registers, with an umbrella. “Hyukjae and I have been trying to reach you for hours!”
He pats his pockets. “I left my phone at home. Sorry.”
“I can’t believe you.” Youngwoon roughly grabs his wrist and pulls him underneath the shelter of the ice cream store, and closes his umbrella, promptly dropping it to the ground. “You’re soaked.”
“Sorry,” he repeats, but his heart still isn’t really in the conversation. He allows Youngwoon to hold his face firmly and inspect him, but his eyes wander elsewhere.
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he mutters, gathering Jungsu’s hands in his large ones. “What were you thinking, walking out in a storm like that?” Jungsu merely shakes his head, blinking the rain out of his eyes (they could be tears, but he wouldn’t know, since there’s so much of both).
The warmth from Youngwoon’s hands slowly seeps through his skin. It feels strange to Jungsu-Heechul has always had cold hands. Both of them have bad circulation, and after a while, Jungsu stopped even considering that hands are warm in the first place. But Youngwoon is warm, and even the way he’s looking at him right now in worry is overflowing with caution and care, like a father’s love.
“You need to take care of yourself, or you’re going to get sick,” he tells him. “And Hyukjae’s told me how easily you come down with colds.”
“You know that thing, where you replay everything in your head, looking for the first signs of where things went wrong?”
Youngwoon seems taken aback by the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can’t.” Jungsu bows his head, unable to look him in the eye. “I’ve played it millions of times in my head-the days and weeks before he left. It’s like this constant movie on repeat, and I still can’t see where it all started going wrong.”
The other man doesn’t speak, but Jungsu feels his thumb brushing the back of his hand, as if in some sort of comfort.
“I…” Jungsu bites his bottom lip. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Youngwoon. He’s gone and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with myself.” He’s shaking, trying to keep his crying at a minimum. He knows he has to stand tall, has to move on-but how does he do it? Where does he start? How do you forget about something that’s been your life for the past three years?
His actions are hesitant-Jungsu can just feel it in how Youngwoon moves-but he does it, nevertheless: lets go of his hands and pull him into his chest. It’s not just his hands-all of Youngwoon is warm, from his heart all the way to his toes and fingertips. Jungsu curls into his embrace, cold and soaked and shivering, and he doesn’t even complain once that he’s making his shirt wet. Jungsu wants to be able to fathom this-fathom how he can feel so comfortable in his arms only after knowing him for a few months. It took Heechul much longer than that-took at least a year of friendship before things even progressed to this.
But Youngwoon-Youngwoon just emanates love and compassion, even if it is a little distorted in his attempt to appear strong. And for that very reason, Jungsu doesn’t feel pressured, doesn’t feel like he doesn’t belong, pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
“I’m stagnant,” he says quietly. “Heechul said the reason why he left me was because I’m stagnant.”
For a moment, Youngwoon doesn’t respond. “Heechul,” he says carefully, as if seeing how the name tastes on his tongue, “is a fool.”
Who’s the real fool here? Jungsu thinks, imagining just how pathetic he must look, small and vulnerable in Youngwoon’s arms. Heechul had the strength to stand up and walk away from something he didn’t want.
“You’re not stagnant,” Youngwoon continues when he doesn’t respond. “You’re constant. You’re a home that people can return to, when everything else turns on them.”
“Don’t say that when you barely know me.”
“But I do know you.” Jungsu feels him shift a little uncomfortably-this may be his first time hugging another man so intimately (and he’s doing it anyway). “You’re like…an anchor. You keep the boat in place when the people on board are fishing.”
“If I was an anchor, he would’ve stayed.”
It’s apparent that Youngwoon isn’t perfect at making people feel better-but Jungsu recognizes his effort. “Your place is pretty far from here…how did you even end up walking so far? C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” He releases Jungsu from his embrace and he immediately feels cold-but he follows Youngwoon, nevertheless, out into the rain under his umbrella.
Youngwoon’s place is smaller than Jungsu’s, but it’s an apartment made for one person, not two. By the time Jungsu kicks off his wet shoes, he’s frozen and soaked to the bone.
“You should go shower before you catch pneumonia or something,” the other man mutters. “I’ll get you some spare clothes.” Jungsu barely registers his actions as Youngwoon’s hands land on his shoulders and lead him into his room, and then the bathroom that’s connected to it. He leaves him for a moment to grab some clothes, and when he returns, Jungsu is still just standing there. “Do I have to start the water for you, too?”
“I’m fine, really. I don’t need a shower.” He might as well just catch pneumonia and die. Nobody wants him anyway.
Rolling his eyes, Youngwoon tosses the clothes onto the counter and starts the water. “You’re so pale, you could pass as Edward Cullen. And no one wants to pass as Edward Cullen.” Jungsu can’t feel his fingers or his toes. He’s numb all over, but he can still feel the distinct, ever-present ache in his chest.
“The water’s warm enough.” Pause. “Don’t tell me I have to undress you too, hyung.” It’s the first time Youngwoon’s ever called him that-and Jungsu sighs.
“Right. Sorry.”
The younger man leaves the bathroom, and Jungsu pulls off his wet clothes with some difficulty before stepping into the shower. The water feels scalding against his cold skin, but he doesn’t flinch. This is real, physical pain. This is proof that he’s still alive, still breathing. Wounds of the heart tell him nothing-he could be dead, and it’d still hurt this much.
When he emerges from the bathroom in baggy shorts and a t-shirt that’s obviously too big for him, toweling his hair, he catches Youngwoon staring at him. “Hm?”
Shaking his head, the other man pushes his laptop out of his lap and onto his bed. He’s changed into a new, dry shirt. “Nothing.”
Jungsu manages a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for letting me use your shower.”
“Anytime. Let’s just hope you don’t get sick.”
Sighing, he sits down at the edge of Youngwoon’s bed. The shower has cleared his mind a little, and he feels a little better. The memory of Heechul’s appearance just hours ago is beginning to fade away at the edges; he can’t remember the exact details anymore, which, in this case, is a good thing.
“I’m usually not this reckless. Right now, I just tend to…drift off.”
Youngwoon’s bed is big enough to fit two people. He moves over and makes space for Jungsu, patting the spot beside him. “Tell me about Heechul.” It isn’t a question, or a suggestion-it’s a request, a gentle command of sorts. And oddly enough, Jungsu feels relieved to hear it. Hyukjae has never asked for the details on Heechul-he already knew the situation, and felt no need to indulge in it. Jungsu hasn’t properly told anyone anything, hasn’t really let everything out yet.
So get gets comfortable, props himself up against Youngwoon’s pillows, and talks.
-
And talking is therapeutic. Talking is magically therapeutic.
Jungsu actually sleeps over that night, having lost too much energy earlier that day, just walking for hours on end. He fills Youngwoon in from beginning to end-from how he and Heechul met to how they parted ways. He tells him his exact feelings towards his ex-boyfriend, the few things he hates about him and the million things he loves about him. He tells him stories of their relationship, tells him about their arguments, about the disaster when they had dinner with Jungsu’s parents, the ups and downs and just everything. Jungsu tells him everything.
He’s never known this lightness, this feeling of being a feather and just floating-but that’s exactly what he’s doing-floating. It’s like the heaviness on his heart has dissipated, and he can finally breathe again. Perhaps not perfectly, but it’s better, and Jungsu takes that as a step in the right direction.
It feels like if he ever falls apart like he did today, Youngwoon would be there to catch him, to save him.
When he wakes up, he finds that he’s alone in the bed. It’s nearing noon, and his stomach rumbles very blatantly, so he slips out of bed and makes his way around the apartment towards what he hopes to be the kitchen.
He finds it without too much trouble, and notices Youngwoon sleeping on the couch. Jungsu is a little surprised at that-why wouldn’t he just sleep in his own bed? It’s not like he was hogging the entire thing-but brushes it off and pokes around the fridge, hoping that there’s something that could be prepared quickly. He’s delighted to find that there’s banana milk.
He’s in the middle of stabbing the straw into the small bottle when he sneezes violently. It wakes up Youngwoon, and the other man groans and sits up, stretching.
“Oh, you’re up. Did you sleep well?”
“Mhm.” Drinking the milk, he nods. “Why did you sleep on the couch?”
There’s a brief silence, and Jungsu just assumes that Youngwoon hasn’t completely woken up yet. “I, uh, didn’t want to wake you. I snore pretty loudly.”
“Oh, okay. I see. Sorry…you could’ve made me sleep on the couch.”
“No, it’s fine.” He yawns widely, ruffling his hair. “I’ll make you some breakfast, and then take you home.” Jungsu lets him shuffle around his kitchen, and wonders where a big guy like him learned how to cook. He himself isn’t very good, aside from the scrambled eggs, cup noodles and canned soup-come to think of it, he doesn’t know how he survived all this time, as Heechul can’t cook to save his life either. “Do you feel better?”
He leans against the counter, watching the younger man gather his ingredients from the fridge. “Yeah. A lot better, actually.” The heartache is still there, as distinct as ever, but it’s lessened considerably-as if Youngwoon offered to take some of the pain into his own heart. “Thanks for listening.”
“That’s what friends do, right? Just call me whenever you want to talk-Kim Youngwoon will take care of you!”
Jungsu is about to thank him a second time before he sneezes again.
The other man glances at him, holding an egg in his hand, ready to crack it. “That’s what you get for walking outside in a thunderstorm, you know.” Putting down the egg, he disappears into his room for a moment before coming back out, tossing a sweater at Jungsu. “Here. Wear it.”
He gives him a small smile. “Thanks.” He pulls the sweater over his head, recognizing its scent as Youngwoon’s-the same scent he indulged in last night, sleeping on his pillows and wrapped up in his blankets. He’s a little overwhelmed in that moment, thinking about everything that Youngwoon has done for him-always the one coming over, bringing cake, food, good company and an afternoon full of smiles and laughter-
He should repay him, Jungsu thinks. As a friend, he has done nothing for Youngwoon-he should do something in return.
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” he suggests. “My treat.”
“Hm? What brings this about?” Jungsu moves so he’s standing beside him at the oven. He’s making an omelette.
He shrugs. “Nothing in particular. What do you like to eat?”
“Anything is fine, really. It’s the company that makes the food good.”
Jungsu can’t help but laugh a little at that. “Was that what your father told you when you were younger?”
“Not everything I say is something my father told me when I was young!”
And so for the next little while, Jungsu enjoys Youngwoon’s cooking, before being taken home, with the promise of meeting later that day to have dinner together. And for the first time in a long time, Jungsu feels fresh, feels like there is finally something new, and that maybe-maybe, he’ll be okay.
-
“I can’t believe you actually called me over for this.” Hyukjae leans against the wall with his arms crossed as Jungsu searches his closet for something suitable to wear.
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little fashion advice.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a guy? As in, not a girl? As in, you don’t need your friend to help you pick your outfit out?”
“I’m only asking for your opinion, geez-keep your pants on.” But he can’t help but smile, because he can’t remember the last time he joked around like this with Hyukjae, can’t remember the last time he’s been able to find something to truly and completely make him forget about his troubles. “Does this look okay?”
“Yes, you’re gorgeous,” Hyukjae replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Have sex with me?” Jungsu throws a t-shirt in his face. “I hope you realize that if Youngwoon had to care about your appearance in any way, he’d care about how you’d look without your clothes on.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m also truthful.” Hyukjae glances at his watch. “Dude, I have places to be, you know.”
“Right, right, go then. It doesn’t matter what I wear anyway.”
“That’s the spirit! He’ll be mentally undressing you anyway!” His friend cheers, and Jungsu rolls his eyes. Sometimes, he just can’t believe some of the things that come out of Hyukjae’s mouth. Sighing, he sees him out-and surprisingly enough, when he opens the door, Youngwoon is right there, hand poised and about to ring the doorbell.
“Oh.” The younger man laughs nervously. “Am I early?”
“Oh, no, I’m almost ready!” Jungsu all but shoves Hyukjae past Youngwoon, smiling. “Come in, just give me a few minutes.”
Hyukjae appropriately disappears, and Jungsu allows Youngwoon in, feeling the same familiarity of his presences, accompanied by a new sort of anxiety. It’s the first time he and Youngwoon are officially going out for a meal-it’s not just regular visits to Jungsu’s house anymore, but it’s actually making plans and doing something outside.
Somehow, Jungsu thinks, none of this should feel new at all. When was the last time he actually went out and did something like this?
“You cleaned up a bit!” Youngwoon exclaims from the living room as Jungsu returns to his room, grabbing some socks.
“Nah-Hyukjae just decided to kick everything to the side.”
And there is something giddy, something childishly exciting to be going out to dinner with Youngwoon. It’s because Youngwoon is new, he thinks-the only people he ever has dinner with is Hyukjae and Heechul (was Heechul, he corrects himself, pursing his lips)-and they’re familiar, nostalgic. If just Youngwoon gives him this sort of feeling, he really needs to go meet new people.
All in all, it could be considered a very good evening. The best he’s had in a while-except for the unexpected turn of events.
While eating, they broach the topic of Heechul. Youngwoon seems a little cautious, as if even mentioning the name would break Jungsu-and it would’ve, if it was yesterday, but it’s not-but Jungsu just jumps into it just like any other subject.
“He always hated it when I told him I loved him,” he says, pushing his food around his plate. “I don’t know why. At first, I thought it was because he was still uncomfortable with his sexuality, but he said he’s accepted behind gay since high school. I just stopped saying it after a while and never thought about it, but…”
“Do you think he didn’t love you back?”
His unintentionally harsh question rings loudly in Jungsu’s mind. “I don’t know.”
“Well, don’t go assuming things when you’re not even sure if they’re true,” Youngwoon says, upon seeing his downcast expression. “I mean, he stayed for three years. That has to mean something, right?”
Jungsu shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’s bringing the atmosphere down.”
And so they eat in silence for a little while longer, until Youngwoon speaks again.
“I was just wondering…when-when did you realize you were…you know…”
He raises his eyebrows. “What? Gay?”
“Yeah.”
Jungsu shrugs. “It’s not really that I hate women. They’re attractive too.”
“Then what makes you like guys more?”
“I guess…” This is something that he hasn’t thought about for a really long time. “A lot of the time, I feel like I can’t completely be myself around girls. But guys are usually a lot more laid back-and I feel better, knowing that they’re themselves around me, too. You usually hear how a girl is a lot more outgoing with her girl friends, but you never see that side of her when she’s around you or other guys.”
“So it’s more of a mental and emotional thing!” Youngwoon exclaims, as if he suddenly understands. Jungsu can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I guess. But I think guys are attractive, too-or else I’d never consider being with them romantically.” He can’t remember when he actually talked about his homosexuality-no one’s ever really asked him about it. Hyukjae just came to accept it, since they’ve known each other for years, and the others-well, to them, it’s always been Jungsu and Heechul. There was no questioning Jungsu and Heechul.
(But now that they’ve fallen apart, there is everything to question.)
Youngwoon remains silent for a moment, deep in thought. “What made you realize you were gay?”
“Honestly?” At this, Jungsu swallows. “Heechul.”
(Because Heechul has showed him so many things, taught him so many things. Heechul has always been his everything.)
“So what about now? Are you considering girls again?”
“Why are you asking all of this?” He eyes Youngwoon, feigning suspicion. “Are you having conflicts about your own sexuality?”
Youngwoon just coughs and returns to his food. Jungsu takes that as enough of an answer.
“It’s not something you can just decide,” he says, hoping that he’s helpful towards the younger man in some way. “It takes time. You could like both guys and girls, too-there’s nothing wrong with that.” It feels like he has to repay Youngwoon somehow, for having been there for him the night before. Last night, Jungsu poured his heart out to Youngwoon-this is the least he could do in return.
Youngwoon doesn’t respond, and Jungsu doesn’t take any offense from it. Youngwoon is very much imperfect, he realizes-although he has many good points, there are still flaws-and somehow, that makes Jungsu more comfortable in his presence. It makes it feel alright for him to make mistakes, too.
“Are you gay, though?” he ventures to ask. “Earlier, Hyukjae was making insinuations.”
A look of horror washes over Youngwoon’s face. “I, uh-I don’t know!” he splutters. “God, that guy can’t keep his mouth shut for his own good. What did he say?”
“Nothing in particular,” Jungsu says, shrugging. “He was just being himself.”
He should’ve picked up something from that-he really should’ve. Jungsu should’ve noticed Youngwoon’s compassion towards him, should’ve noticed how he slept on the couch, and looked so disheveled while explaining why he didn’t sleep in his own bed-he should’ve noticed how Youngwoon is constantly dropping by his apartment when he has time, always listening with an open ear, how uncomfortable he is when they’re physically close to each other, but never moving away either-but Jungsu just always took all of that to be Youngwoon. He thought it was normal for Youngwoon.
Jungsu admits that he’s a little blind, and he’s always been a little oblivious-but it seems that as of recently, he’s been a little more negligent than usual.
(But how could he have suspected anything? How could he have seen Youngwoon, all of Youngwoon, when he was still busy thinking of Heechul? Jungsu hardly has himself figured out yet-how can he have given Youngwoon the time of day?)
They walk back to Jungsu’s place together because Youngwoon’s car is parked there. The sun is still up because it’s summer, but it’s already nearing nine in the evening.
“Thanks for dinner,” Youngwoon says. “We should do it more often.”
“We should!” he agrees with enthusiasm. “I can’t remember when I last had dinner with Hyukjae and had an intelligent conversation.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Do you want to come in for some tea? There’s still some cake left over from last time.”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
And somehow, Youngwoon feels like an old friend, feels like warmth and acceptance and contentment.
Their conversation remains amicable as Youngwoon invites himself into Jungsu’s apartment like it’s his own home. And as the minutes tick past, Jungsu finds himself growing fonder and fonder of the younger man-he isn’t sure if it’s because of their earlier conversation, or if it’s just the natural course of friendship. Jungsu tends not to make close friends-he knows many people, and is able to socialize, but he rarely ever lets anyone in.
And before he knows it, it’s nearing midnight, and Youngwoon has to leave.
(And to be perfectly honest, he doesn’t know where the time went.)
“Youngwoon-ah,” Jungsu says suddenly, a thought coming to him. The younger man is in the middle of pulling on his shoes. “Thanks, you know.”
“For what?”
“For just…being there, I guess. No one’s ever listened to me the way you do.”
Youngwoon scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “It’s nothing, really. I just like listening to you, I guess.” Jungsu can only smile, and feeling like it’s necessary, he steps closer to him and pulls him into a hug. He feels indebted to Youngwoon in so many ways that he isn’t even sure how to make it up to him.
Youngwoon noticeably freezes in Jungsu’s arms, but he doesn’t take heed. “You’re a really good friend,” he says sincerely. It’s a brief moment of silence, before Jungsu finds himself completely gathered in Youngwoon’s arms. “Youngwoon?”
The other man doesn’t answer, and Jungsu assumes along the lines of not being able to think of anything suitable to say, so he just relaxes against him, relishing the comfort of having another body pressed against his. It’s been a while.
“You’re…” And it’s almost like he’s about to say something, but he changes his mind at the last moment. “Never mind. You’re a good friend too.”
Jungsu pulls away a little, just enough to be able to look him in the face, trying to search for some sort of answer. Youngwoon’s always been a little difficult to open, he knows-either because of his pride, or because he really at a loss for words-because that happens often. He finds him absolutely fascinating-a string of flaws and awkward formalities tied together with good intentions.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. “You look a little sick.”
And he really does look nauseous-his face is a sickly pale color, and Jungsu is genuinely worried. He was fine earlier this evening…
What he totally and completely doesn’t expect is to find his mouth covered by Youngwoon’s in the next moment.
(But he should’ve expected something. He really should’ve.)
It happens faster than his heart can leap to his throat, because Youngwoon abruptly pulls away, as if scalded. Jungsu stands there for a moment, stunned and bewildered.
“Sorry,” Youngwoon splutters. “I had no idea what I was doing. Sorry. I’ll leave.” And he’s halfway there, shoes already on, turning around to reach for the doorknob-when suddenly, Jungsu reaches for him, fingers locking around his wrist in a loose grip. Loose, but it’s enough to make him stay.
“Do that again,” he requests, his heart fogging up. Suddenly, all he can see is Youngwoon-this fumbling, awkward man who he realizes just then is actually very endearing-sees how good and honest he is. Youngwoon appears surprised for a moment, before hesitantly turning so he’s facing Jungsu again. Jungsu watches him with expectant eyes, and he takes a deep breath, before leaning forward and having their lips meet a second time.
Nothing like Heechul. That’s all Jungsu can register when their mouths move slowly, as if learning each other. He’s nothing like Heechul. And he has yet to figure out if that’s a good thing or not, but he decides that it isn’t the time. His hands reach up and thread through Youngwoon’s hair, pulling him closer, and he almost sighs when Youngwoon’s hands find his hips, clutching tight and-dare he say it-almost afraid.
It’s blissful-kissing, he means. Just that simple act. No tongues, no biting teeth-just kissing. Lips against lips, again and again and again until he’s breathless and satisfied but oh he won’t be satisfied until-
Almost subconsciously, Jungsu rolls his hips against Youngwoon’s, and it’s like the younger man shuts off.
It’s still for a frightening moment, before Youngwoon pulls away. “Sorry,” is all he mutters before turning on his heel and abruptly leaving the apartment, slamming the door loud behind him.
And Jungsu-Jungsu just sinks to the floor, having no idea what he did.
-
In the next few weeks, he doesn’t see him at all. Jungsu finds himself waiting around his apartment on Saturday afternoons for Youngwoon to visit (because he always visits on Saturday afternoons), but he ends up spending them alone.
And it’s the strangest thing in the world, feeling loneliness that isn’t caused by Heechul.
continue to part two >>
Pairing: Kangin/Leeteuk
Genre: Romance/Hurt/Comfort
Rating: PG-15
Notes: KangTeuk love feels like a warm, all-encompassing love to me. One that catches you no matter how badly you fall, one that never gives up on you, no matter how far gone you are. So, uh, yeah. That was how this was inspired.
Word Count: 13,000
Summary: “He likes fixing broken things, you know. Televisions, bicycles-and people. Youngwoon likes fixing people. And you were just so broken and he was so ready to take on this new project, but I swear, Jungsu, he didn’t know it at the time, but he had completely fallen for you.”
“I-what?” Jungsu stares blankly, flabbergasted and speechless.
“I said, we’re done,” Heechul repeats curtly. Jungsu searches his face for a hint of something, anything-but all he sees is iciness-the same iciness that he had when they first met.
“But why? What did I do wrong?” It’s been three years-three years of this relationship-he doesn’t know what happened. Up until now, Jungsu didn’t even realize that Heechul wanted things to end. He didn’t notice at all.
His boyfriend-ex-boyfriend?-huffs, crossing his arms. “That’s the thing, Jungsu. You don’t do anything. You’re so regular and normal and…boring. I can’t stand it anymore.”
He blinks. “But I thought that’s what you wanted…I thought you wanted stability.”
“I wanted stability, not stagnation!” Jungsu’s eyes widen at his outburst. “Stability doesn’t mean going to the same café every Sunday afternoon-it doesn’t mean going to the same family restaurant on Friday nights! It doesn’t mean always watching a movie at home when we want a date, or just-it’s always the same thing over and over, Jungsu, doesn’t that tire you?”
He’s never felt that way-not even once. Jungsu has always loved being with Heechul, so it didn’t matter where they were, or what they were doing. For him, Heechul’s eccentric personality already provided enough excitement for him.
“I’ll change,” he promises. “We’ll do different things-I’ll do better!”
Heechul shakes his head, albeit a little sadly. “That’s the thing about you, you know. You’re always so willing to bend to people’s wishes-just do what you want to do. Do what makes you happy.”
But you’re the one who makes me happy, so why wouldn’t I bend to your wish?
“You’re a really good guy, Jungsu,” Heechul continues softly. “Just…you’re not my guy.”
He swallows the lump in his throat, finding himself unable to speak. Is this it? Just like that, three years down the drain? “Don’t,” he finds himself begging. “Please.” I don’t know what I’d do without you.
“I already packed my things earlier today when you were at work,” Heechul says, ignoring him. “Clean breaks like this are good, right?”
No. Not at all. Any break with you isn’t good at all.
Jungsu stands there, frozen as Heechul fishes something out of his pocket. “Here. My key.” He leans in and kisses him on the cheek-something that Jungsu would normally enjoy, but this time, it feels like a parting kiss, one that wishes him well-“I guess I’ll see you around, then? I’ll be back once you’ve moved on.” He smiles weakly, but Jungsu can’t even bring himself to smile back. “Trust me, you’ll be glad that I’m gone. Once you don’t have to take care of me anymore, you can start taking care of yourself.” He turns on his heels and walks off, down the street, to nowhere, to everywhere-to a place where Jungsu won’t be.
He kneels down in the middle of the sidewalk, earning several odd glances as people walk by. “Why would I have to take care of myself, idiot,” he mutters, burying his face into the crook of his arm. “As long as I had you, everything was fine.”
-
He finds himself wasting away. He can’t go to work because he has to interact with people and put on a nice face, but finds that the four walls of his own home are constantly screaming at him. He can never decipher what they’re saying, but sometimes, he makes them out to be something like, Why didn’t you try harder to make him stay, it’s all your fault that he left, you never paid enough attention to him, you weren’t good enough, you’re stagnant, Jungsu, who on earth would want a stagnant boyfriend-
He cannot stand these walls yelling at him. He and Heechul used to sleep within these walls, eat within these walls, laugh, cry, make love-they used to make love within these walls.
Jungsu spends most of his days lying in bed, clutching the pillow Heechul used to sleep on, inhaling his scent. Other than night and day, he doesn’t know what time it is, and it takes twenty minutes of Hyukjae ringing the doorbell and pounding on the door before he finally drags himself out of bed to let him in, just so it’ll be quiet again so he can sulk in peace.
“It’s been a week,” Hyukjae says as he crawls back under his covers. “The least you could do is let people know that you’re alive.”
“I’m breathing, right? So yeah, I’m alive.” Unfortunately.
“Funny, man,” his friend replies, not sounding amused in the least. “God, when was the last time you’ve eaten anything? It looks like you’ve been starved!”
“Not hungry,” he mutters, pulling his covers over his head. “Go away.”
“Oh no, man, you are not messing with me today.” Hyukjae violently yanks the blankets away, causing Jungsu to flinch. “My dog peed all over my clothes this morning and my boss yelled at me over nothing, so you are getting up and eating, whether you like it or not.” He finds himself literally being towed out of bed by his friend and into the kitchen, his bare feet stumbling over each other. He can’t do this-the apartment is so big and empty without Heechul.
Because Hyukjae has never been much of a cook, he pours him a bowl of cereal. Upon discovering that that milk has gone bad, he sighs and dumps it out.
“Get dressed, Jungsu. We’re getting some milk.”
“It’s okay, I don’t really feel like milk right now anyway.” He’s sprawled over his kitchen table, his eyes lazily following his friend, who’s grabbing his jacket from the coat rack.
“We’re getting some milk.”
“You can get it yourself.”
Hyukjae pulls on his jacket, turns around, and stares at him. “We,” he repeats firmly, “are getting some milk.”
-
Jungsu finds himself outside for the first time in the week, and he thinks that the wind is bitterly cold.
He also thinks that people speak way too loudly in public-on their phones and to each other. He thinks everything is just generally too bright and bustling and just everything. It’s just too everything. By the time they reach the local grocery store, he is thoroughly irritated with the world. He just wants to go home and crawl into bed again.
Hyukjae’s grip is firm around his wrist though, as though nearly a decade of friendship has told him that he would consider slipping away when he’s not looking. They make their way to where the milk is stored, and Hyukjae grabs a carton and shoves it into Jungsu’s hands, before wandering off and says he wants chips and some other snacks. Jungsu is left standing there, with the cold carton of milk in his even colder hands, before he wanders after him.
He and Heechul used to get their groceries here. They would always argue over whether they should get banana or strawberry milk-before finally agreeing on strawberry nearly every time, because Jungsu just loves Heechul enough to stand that disgusting flavor.
(He would always come back later for the banana milk, though. He thinks Heechul knew, because sometimes, the aftertaste would still be in his mouth when they kissed, and his face would scrunch up in the most endearing way ever-but he never complained, so Jungsu thought that he loved him back enough to make a few compromises-)
Stop, he orders himself. Stop.
He finds Hyukjae in the snack aisle. “Can we go yet?”
Apparently in the middle of conversing with someone, his friend turns around. “Oh, yeah, just a sec. There are some other things I want to get…”
“Get it during your own time,” Jungsu mutters, looking away. The carton of milk is freezing.
“Oh, yeah, now that you’re here-Jungsu, this is Youngwoon.”
Jungsu glances at the person that Hyukjae was talking to, and nods slightly. “Nice to meet you.” Youngwoon is tall and looks tough-it figures that he’s Hyukjae’s friend.
“Hey.” The larger man holds out his hand. Jungsu cradles the carton with one arm and shakes it. He has warm hands. “I just met Hyukjae recently, but he’s told me a lot about you.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Jungsu smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
They fall into an awkward silence, and all he wants to do is go home. At least, when he’s at home, he replays the same scene in his mind-the one where Heechul leaves him-but when he’s out here, exposed to different things, different memories come crashing over him-intending to go grocery shopping, and going actual shopping instead, always spending more than their budget allows-
He grips the milk carton harder than necessary, and the cardboard gives way a little.
“Hey, you okay?” Youngwoon waves a hand in front of his face, and all Jungsu can do is nod and force a tight smile. Youngwoon looks like the type of guy who knows how to have fun, although a little stupid. Maybe they could be good friends, if Jungsu isn’t too hung up over Heechul to even care about showering daily.
Hyukjae returns to the aisle and finds him, waving him over. “C’mon, let’s go.” Jungsu nods a little in goodbye to Youngwoon, before following him. He doesn’t notice his eyes following him until he turned the corner, out of sight.
In fact, in the days to come, Jungsu’s going to realize that he doesn’t notice much of Youngwoon at all.
-
When they return to his apartment, Hyukjae finishes making Jungsu’s bowl of cereal, before plopping onto the couch and effectively staying there for the rest of the day. Somehow, from his spot in front of the television, he’s able to keep Jungsu from crawling back into bed-and before he leaves, he demands a spare key to his apartment.
“Heechul gave his back, didn’t he?” he says without any tact. Jungsu flinches at the name, and looks away. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I am not going through the same hell as I did today to get in.”
“You don’t have to come,” Jungsu mutters, but shuffles over to the counter to grab the key that’s sitting there desolately.
He’s grateful for his friend’s concern-really, he is. If Hyukjae isn’t around, hovering like the pest he is, Jungsu knows that something bad would’ve happened to him long ago. And he knows he’s treating his friend badly, but right now-right now, he just wants some time to himself.
“Thanks,” Hyukjae says with a smile, taking the key. “I have to go on a business trip for the next week or so, though, so do you think you can survive without me?”
He shrugs. “I always survive without you.”
“Right, right, of course.”
He spends the next two days alone, but he does feel a little better. Although Heechul still occupies the majority of his thoughts, he now has fresher memories of Hyukjae, and the stupid jokes he made.
By the third day, he breaks his record and gets out of bed before three in the afternoon. His appetite has kicked in a little, and he searches his kitchen for anything that hasn’t gone bad yet, and he eventually just settles for cereal again. He’s eating in the deafening silence with the screaming walls when the doorbell rings.
Jungsu imagines that it’s Heechul at the door, confessing that he’s changed his mind, that he regretted leaving him the moment he did it. He imagines pulling Heechul close, breathing him in and clutching him like his life depends on it-imagines things finally being right again.
Naturally, though, it’s not Heechul at the door. In fact, it’s someone that Jungsu totally didn’t expect.
“Hey.” Youngwoon’s smile looks a little embarrassed. “Can I come in?”
Part of Jungsu wonders how Youngwoon even knows where he lives, but he brushes that thought aside and lets him in.
“I, uh, know this is kind of weird.” Youngwoon walks with a sort of lumber, tilting from one side to the other. He scratches the back of his head. “Hyukjae just wants me to check up on you, I guess, since he’ll be gone for the next week. He’s pretty worried about you.”
“He worries too much.” Jungsu begins to feel awkward in his own home. “I’ll make you some tea.”
The next few minutes are spent in silence as he boils the water. He has no idea why Youngwoon’s in his home or what’s happening exactly, but at least it takes his mind off of Heechul. When he sits down across from the other man at the kitchen table with two cups of tea, an awkward silence falls onto them.
“Sorry it’s so messy,” he mutters. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m pretty messy too.” Silence again. “So…Hyukjae told me you like fishing.”
A little surprised, Jungsu raises his eyebrows at him. “Oh, I guess. I haven’t actually gone fishing in a while…you know, work and stuff.” And Heechul. Heechul’s always hated fishing, so ever since they started dating, he went less and less. Eventually, he just stopped altogether, but he never really minded.
“My dad used to take me fishing all the time,” Youngwoon says, drinking his tea. “He said it built character.”
“It gives you time to think. And it teaches you patience.” Jungsu can’t help but smile a little, feeling nostalgic. “Patience and waiting…is the only thing I’ve ever mastered, I think.”
“Let’s go fishing sometime,” the other man suggests. “Hyukjae told me that you’ve been having a hard time lately. Maybe going out and just thinking will help.”
“Yeah, let’s,” Jungsu agrees, not really taking him seriously. He hardly knows Youngwoon, so these are just formalities-everyone does that. Promise to do something, but never actually get around to doing it. He learned that from Heechul.
(Because if Heechul has ever done anything for Jungsu, it is showing him how to be realistic.)
“Now that I think about it,” he says suddenly, “what year were you born in?”
The conversation flows easily after that, and if Jungsu says that he doesn’t feel at least a little better after Youngwoon leaves, it would be a lie.
-
At the end of the week, he returns to work.
It’s not that he’s better-oh, of course he’s not-but both Hyukjae and Youngwoon have convinced him that it’s better to go out and keep himself occupied than to stay home and do nothing at all. He agrees, sometimes, but other times, he just wants to break the next thing that moves and go home.
Over the next month or so, Jungsu finds Youngwoon visiting a lot more. Occasionally, Hyukjae will tag along, but he’s usually alone. Jungsu doesn’t find this odd anymore-in fact, Youngwoon’s presence is almost like a relief. Because he’s still practically a stranger to him, there is much to learn-and when there is something to learn, you tend to forget about things like Kim Heechul. Youngwoon provides lively conversations, and is, in fact, quite intelligent, contrary to what Jungsu originally thought of him when they first met.
Jungsu is drinking some banana milk when Youngwoon visits that afternoon. He’s brought cake with him, for some reason, and he looks extra cheerful when he lets him in.
“It’s to celebrate,” Youngwoon kicks off his shoes and shuffles excitedly into the kitchen, “our three months of friendship.”
Jungsu raises his eyebrows. “Why would you want to celebrate that?”
“Why wouldn’t you want to celebrate that?” He sounds haughty. “Is that banana milk? Do you have any more?”
“Hm? Yeah, help yourself. It’s in the fridge.”
“Man, I can’t remember when I last had banana milk. I used to love it so much as a kid.” Youngwoon grabs a small bottle for himself before rummaging in Jungsu’s drawers with familiarity. He finds a knife and cuts the cake, handing a slice to Jungsu on a plate. “Here.”
He accepts it, although begrudgingly. “I still don’t know why we’re celebrating our friendship.”
“Oh, shut up, I just wanted to get you cake. Hyukjae said you liked tiramisu.”
“Oh. Well, I do.” He takes a seat at the kitchen table, across from Youngwoon-just like so many times before. It’s become a routine, a lifestyle of sorts-these summer afternoons with him, feeling the prickling heat in the air. “Thanks.”
Youngwoon, Jungsu has noticed, has a very subtle sort of compassion. He’s very different from Heechul-in situations where Heechul would boast about his kindheartedness, Youngwoon would hope that he doesn’t notice. In situations where Heechul wouldn’t know what to say to make things better, Youngwoon would pull out some weird proverb or something that his father told him as a kid, and the weight on his heart would ease a bit.
Jungsu hasn’t really opened up to Youngwoon yet, but he’s sharp-he’s picked up on things, from the pictures around the apartment, from the way Jungsu would avoid any and every topic concerning his love life, or that mysterious person in all of the photos.
(He still hasn’t gotten around to removing them, because they feel so precious-it feels like if he replaces them with more recent photographs-photographs of things that presently exist-he’ll have given up all hope. Because, despite everything, a foolish part of him is still hoping that one day, Heechul will come back.
Because that’s all he’s good at, after all. Waiting. Being stagnant.)
He’s getting better, though. At least, that’s what he’d like to think.
-
Except he’s not getting better. No, not at all, not one bit.
The real issue is, Jungsu usually overestimates himself. He often thinks that he’s rather decent at something, or that hey, he can pull off a flower boy look and clip up his bangs with a pretty beret sometimes-but in truth, he can’t do any of that. (Well, he could pull off being a flower boy in the past. Not so much anymore.)
The same applies here. He thought he was getting better.
Again? he thinks to himself when the doorbell rings. But he just came yesterday. And with cake, no less.
But the person standing there outside his door is not Youngwoon, like he expected.
“Uh…hey.” Heechul smiles sheepishly. “I just, uh…I left a pair of shoes, so I came back to get them.”
It takes a moment for Jungsu to snap out of his daze. “Oh, yeah, sure.” Heechul hasn’t changed-his hair might’ve gotten a little longer, but other than that, nothing has changed. He’s still beautiful, he still glows, is still radiant in Jungsu’s eyes-and Jungsu almost hates himself for it, because he seriously thought he was getting better.
But the same gut-wrenching feeling is back again, more distinct than ever and sitting in the pit of his stomach.
Heechul quickly grabs the pair of shoes that he left in the closet (Jungsu hasn’t even noticed them), and returns to the door, slipping into his current pair of shoes. “I guess that’s all,” he says, avoiding his eyes. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”
He doesn’t even have time to formulate something intelligent. Something that might make him stay. “Yeah, see you.”
And he’s gone. Just like that, he’s gone.
For the longest time, Jungsu just stands there and stares at the door. The door that he let Heechul walk out of for the second time.
He should’ve done something in the time that he was gone. He should’ve gone out and done something new, something different. He should’ve stopped being stagnant-then maybe, when Heechul came back, he would’ve noticed something different. He would’ve been willing to give him another chance.
God, how can he be so stupid?
He turns around and leans against the door, closing his eyes. The walls are screaming again, louder than he remembers them to be. He let Heechul go again.
Suddenly feeling like he can’t be at home anymore, he grabs his keys, slips into a pair of sneakers, and leaves. It feels like he’s suffocating in this building-the apartment that he’s shared with Heechul for so long. They bought this place together, and during that time, Jungsu really thought that they were going to spend the rest of their lives together. Heechul must be living with his parents again-Jungsu was the only reason he ever left them.
It’s cloudy and gloomy outside, reflecting exactly how he feels. The air is humid and sticky, but it’s a relief to his lungs-he can breathe a little better out here.
The world is closing in on him again, and there’s nothing he can do about it.
He doesn’t know how long he aimlessly walks around for-but he figures for an hour or two, at least, because the sky is steadily darkening. It begins to get a little chilly out, despite it being summer, because he’s only wearing a t-shirt-he’ll go home soon, he figures. Just not now.
(Home, he thinks, isn’t quite home if Heechul isn’t there anyway.)
It begins raining eventually, and Jungsu isn’t sure if it’s ironic or poetic. It starts out as a light sprinkle at first, and he even relishes the moisture on his skin-but it begins to get heavier, until it all-out storms. At this point, he really should’ve started heading home, or at least find a place to take shelter to wait it out, but he hasn’t been in his right mind for the longest time now, so he just keeps walking. It doesn’t take long for him to be soaked to the bone and absolutely frozen-exactly how he feels.
He’s walking past an ice cream shop (one that he and Heechul used to go to all the time) when he hears his name being called. Faintly, at first, so he ignores it, assuming it’s some stupid voice in his head (because it does happen), but when it gets increasingly louder, he turns around, blindly pushing his wet bangs out of his eyes.
“Jungsu! What the hell!” It’s Youngwoon, he faintly registers, with an umbrella. “Hyukjae and I have been trying to reach you for hours!”
He pats his pockets. “I left my phone at home. Sorry.”
“I can’t believe you.” Youngwoon roughly grabs his wrist and pulls him underneath the shelter of the ice cream store, and closes his umbrella, promptly dropping it to the ground. “You’re soaked.”
“Sorry,” he repeats, but his heart still isn’t really in the conversation. He allows Youngwoon to hold his face firmly and inspect him, but his eyes wander elsewhere.
“Jesus, you’re freezing,” he mutters, gathering Jungsu’s hands in his large ones. “What were you thinking, walking out in a storm like that?” Jungsu merely shakes his head, blinking the rain out of his eyes (they could be tears, but he wouldn’t know, since there’s so much of both).
The warmth from Youngwoon’s hands slowly seeps through his skin. It feels strange to Jungsu-Heechul has always had cold hands. Both of them have bad circulation, and after a while, Jungsu stopped even considering that hands are warm in the first place. But Youngwoon is warm, and even the way he’s looking at him right now in worry is overflowing with caution and care, like a father’s love.
“You need to take care of yourself, or you’re going to get sick,” he tells him. “And Hyukjae’s told me how easily you come down with colds.”
“You know that thing, where you replay everything in your head, looking for the first signs of where things went wrong?”
Youngwoon seems taken aback by the sudden question. “Why do you ask?”
“Because I can’t.” Jungsu bows his head, unable to look him in the eye. “I’ve played it millions of times in my head-the days and weeks before he left. It’s like this constant movie on repeat, and I still can’t see where it all started going wrong.”
The other man doesn’t speak, but Jungsu feels his thumb brushing the back of his hand, as if in some sort of comfort.
“I…” Jungsu bites his bottom lip. “I don’t know what I’m doing, Youngwoon. He’s gone and I don’t know what the hell I’m doing with myself.” He’s shaking, trying to keep his crying at a minimum. He knows he has to stand tall, has to move on-but how does he do it? Where does he start? How do you forget about something that’s been your life for the past three years?
His actions are hesitant-Jungsu can just feel it in how Youngwoon moves-but he does it, nevertheless: lets go of his hands and pull him into his chest. It’s not just his hands-all of Youngwoon is warm, from his heart all the way to his toes and fingertips. Jungsu curls into his embrace, cold and soaked and shivering, and he doesn’t even complain once that he’s making his shirt wet. Jungsu wants to be able to fathom this-fathom how he can feel so comfortable in his arms only after knowing him for a few months. It took Heechul much longer than that-took at least a year of friendship before things even progressed to this.
But Youngwoon-Youngwoon just emanates love and compassion, even if it is a little distorted in his attempt to appear strong. And for that very reason, Jungsu doesn’t feel pressured, doesn’t feel like he doesn’t belong, pressed against his chest, feeling his heartbeat.
“I’m stagnant,” he says quietly. “Heechul said the reason why he left me was because I’m stagnant.”
For a moment, Youngwoon doesn’t respond. “Heechul,” he says carefully, as if seeing how the name tastes on his tongue, “is a fool.”
Who’s the real fool here? Jungsu thinks, imagining just how pathetic he must look, small and vulnerable in Youngwoon’s arms. Heechul had the strength to stand up and walk away from something he didn’t want.
“You’re not stagnant,” Youngwoon continues when he doesn’t respond. “You’re constant. You’re a home that people can return to, when everything else turns on them.”
“Don’t say that when you barely know me.”
“But I do know you.” Jungsu feels him shift a little uncomfortably-this may be his first time hugging another man so intimately (and he’s doing it anyway). “You’re like…an anchor. You keep the boat in place when the people on board are fishing.”
“If I was an anchor, he would’ve stayed.”
It’s apparent that Youngwoon isn’t perfect at making people feel better-but Jungsu recognizes his effort. “Your place is pretty far from here…how did you even end up walking so far? C’mon, let’s go back to my place.” He releases Jungsu from his embrace and he immediately feels cold-but he follows Youngwoon, nevertheless, out into the rain under his umbrella.
Youngwoon’s place is smaller than Jungsu’s, but it’s an apartment made for one person, not two. By the time Jungsu kicks off his wet shoes, he’s frozen and soaked to the bone.
“You should go shower before you catch pneumonia or something,” the other man mutters. “I’ll get you some spare clothes.” Jungsu barely registers his actions as Youngwoon’s hands land on his shoulders and lead him into his room, and then the bathroom that’s connected to it. He leaves him for a moment to grab some clothes, and when he returns, Jungsu is still just standing there. “Do I have to start the water for you, too?”
“I’m fine, really. I don’t need a shower.” He might as well just catch pneumonia and die. Nobody wants him anyway.
Rolling his eyes, Youngwoon tosses the clothes onto the counter and starts the water. “You’re so pale, you could pass as Edward Cullen. And no one wants to pass as Edward Cullen.” Jungsu can’t feel his fingers or his toes. He’s numb all over, but he can still feel the distinct, ever-present ache in his chest.
“The water’s warm enough.” Pause. “Don’t tell me I have to undress you too, hyung.” It’s the first time Youngwoon’s ever called him that-and Jungsu sighs.
“Right. Sorry.”
The younger man leaves the bathroom, and Jungsu pulls off his wet clothes with some difficulty before stepping into the shower. The water feels scalding against his cold skin, but he doesn’t flinch. This is real, physical pain. This is proof that he’s still alive, still breathing. Wounds of the heart tell him nothing-he could be dead, and it’d still hurt this much.
When he emerges from the bathroom in baggy shorts and a t-shirt that’s obviously too big for him, toweling his hair, he catches Youngwoon staring at him. “Hm?”
Shaking his head, the other man pushes his laptop out of his lap and onto his bed. He’s changed into a new, dry shirt. “Nothing.”
Jungsu manages a half-hearted smile. “Thanks for letting me use your shower.”
“Anytime. Let’s just hope you don’t get sick.”
Sighing, he sits down at the edge of Youngwoon’s bed. The shower has cleared his mind a little, and he feels a little better. The memory of Heechul’s appearance just hours ago is beginning to fade away at the edges; he can’t remember the exact details anymore, which, in this case, is a good thing.
“I’m usually not this reckless. Right now, I just tend to…drift off.”
Youngwoon’s bed is big enough to fit two people. He moves over and makes space for Jungsu, patting the spot beside him. “Tell me about Heechul.” It isn’t a question, or a suggestion-it’s a request, a gentle command of sorts. And oddly enough, Jungsu feels relieved to hear it. Hyukjae has never asked for the details on Heechul-he already knew the situation, and felt no need to indulge in it. Jungsu hasn’t properly told anyone anything, hasn’t really let everything out yet.
So get gets comfortable, props himself up against Youngwoon’s pillows, and talks.
-
And talking is therapeutic. Talking is magically therapeutic.
Jungsu actually sleeps over that night, having lost too much energy earlier that day, just walking for hours on end. He fills Youngwoon in from beginning to end-from how he and Heechul met to how they parted ways. He tells him his exact feelings towards his ex-boyfriend, the few things he hates about him and the million things he loves about him. He tells him stories of their relationship, tells him about their arguments, about the disaster when they had dinner with Jungsu’s parents, the ups and downs and just everything. Jungsu tells him everything.
He’s never known this lightness, this feeling of being a feather and just floating-but that’s exactly what he’s doing-floating. It’s like the heaviness on his heart has dissipated, and he can finally breathe again. Perhaps not perfectly, but it’s better, and Jungsu takes that as a step in the right direction.
It feels like if he ever falls apart like he did today, Youngwoon would be there to catch him, to save him.
When he wakes up, he finds that he’s alone in the bed. It’s nearing noon, and his stomach rumbles very blatantly, so he slips out of bed and makes his way around the apartment towards what he hopes to be the kitchen.
He finds it without too much trouble, and notices Youngwoon sleeping on the couch. Jungsu is a little surprised at that-why wouldn’t he just sleep in his own bed? It’s not like he was hogging the entire thing-but brushes it off and pokes around the fridge, hoping that there’s something that could be prepared quickly. He’s delighted to find that there’s banana milk.
He’s in the middle of stabbing the straw into the small bottle when he sneezes violently. It wakes up Youngwoon, and the other man groans and sits up, stretching.
“Oh, you’re up. Did you sleep well?”
“Mhm.” Drinking the milk, he nods. “Why did you sleep on the couch?”
There’s a brief silence, and Jungsu just assumes that Youngwoon hasn’t completely woken up yet. “I, uh, didn’t want to wake you. I snore pretty loudly.”
“Oh, okay. I see. Sorry…you could’ve made me sleep on the couch.”
“No, it’s fine.” He yawns widely, ruffling his hair. “I’ll make you some breakfast, and then take you home.” Jungsu lets him shuffle around his kitchen, and wonders where a big guy like him learned how to cook. He himself isn’t very good, aside from the scrambled eggs, cup noodles and canned soup-come to think of it, he doesn’t know how he survived all this time, as Heechul can’t cook to save his life either. “Do you feel better?”
He leans against the counter, watching the younger man gather his ingredients from the fridge. “Yeah. A lot better, actually.” The heartache is still there, as distinct as ever, but it’s lessened considerably-as if Youngwoon offered to take some of the pain into his own heart. “Thanks for listening.”
“That’s what friends do, right? Just call me whenever you want to talk-Kim Youngwoon will take care of you!”
Jungsu is about to thank him a second time before he sneezes again.
The other man glances at him, holding an egg in his hand, ready to crack it. “That’s what you get for walking outside in a thunderstorm, you know.” Putting down the egg, he disappears into his room for a moment before coming back out, tossing a sweater at Jungsu. “Here. Wear it.”
He gives him a small smile. “Thanks.” He pulls the sweater over his head, recognizing its scent as Youngwoon’s-the same scent he indulged in last night, sleeping on his pillows and wrapped up in his blankets. He’s a little overwhelmed in that moment, thinking about everything that Youngwoon has done for him-always the one coming over, bringing cake, food, good company and an afternoon full of smiles and laughter-
He should repay him, Jungsu thinks. As a friend, he has done nothing for Youngwoon-he should do something in return.
“Let’s go out for dinner tonight,” he suggests. “My treat.”
“Hm? What brings this about?” Jungsu moves so he’s standing beside him at the oven. He’s making an omelette.
He shrugs. “Nothing in particular. What do you like to eat?”
“Anything is fine, really. It’s the company that makes the food good.”
Jungsu can’t help but laugh a little at that. “Was that what your father told you when you were younger?”
“Not everything I say is something my father told me when I was young!”
And so for the next little while, Jungsu enjoys Youngwoon’s cooking, before being taken home, with the promise of meeting later that day to have dinner together. And for the first time in a long time, Jungsu feels fresh, feels like there is finally something new, and that maybe-maybe, he’ll be okay.
-
“I can’t believe you actually called me over for this.” Hyukjae leans against the wall with his arms crossed as Jungsu searches his closet for something suitable to wear.
“There’s nothing wrong with asking for a little fashion advice.”
“Have I ever told you that you’re a guy? As in, not a girl? As in, you don’t need your friend to help you pick your outfit out?”
“I’m only asking for your opinion, geez-keep your pants on.” But he can’t help but smile, because he can’t remember the last time he joked around like this with Hyukjae, can’t remember the last time he’s been able to find something to truly and completely make him forget about his troubles. “Does this look okay?”
“Yes, you’re gorgeous,” Hyukjae replies sarcastically, rolling his eyes. “Have sex with me?” Jungsu throws a t-shirt in his face. “I hope you realize that if Youngwoon had to care about your appearance in any way, he’d care about how you’d look without your clothes on.”
“You’re disgusting.”
“I’m also truthful.” Hyukjae glances at his watch. “Dude, I have places to be, you know.”
“Right, right, go then. It doesn’t matter what I wear anyway.”
“That’s the spirit! He’ll be mentally undressing you anyway!” His friend cheers, and Jungsu rolls his eyes. Sometimes, he just can’t believe some of the things that come out of Hyukjae’s mouth. Sighing, he sees him out-and surprisingly enough, when he opens the door, Youngwoon is right there, hand poised and about to ring the doorbell.
“Oh.” The younger man laughs nervously. “Am I early?”
“Oh, no, I’m almost ready!” Jungsu all but shoves Hyukjae past Youngwoon, smiling. “Come in, just give me a few minutes.”
Hyukjae appropriately disappears, and Jungsu allows Youngwoon in, feeling the same familiarity of his presences, accompanied by a new sort of anxiety. It’s the first time he and Youngwoon are officially going out for a meal-it’s not just regular visits to Jungsu’s house anymore, but it’s actually making plans and doing something outside.
Somehow, Jungsu thinks, none of this should feel new at all. When was the last time he actually went out and did something like this?
“You cleaned up a bit!” Youngwoon exclaims from the living room as Jungsu returns to his room, grabbing some socks.
“Nah-Hyukjae just decided to kick everything to the side.”
And there is something giddy, something childishly exciting to be going out to dinner with Youngwoon. It’s because Youngwoon is new, he thinks-the only people he ever has dinner with is Hyukjae and Heechul (was Heechul, he corrects himself, pursing his lips)-and they’re familiar, nostalgic. If just Youngwoon gives him this sort of feeling, he really needs to go meet new people.
All in all, it could be considered a very good evening. The best he’s had in a while-except for the unexpected turn of events.
While eating, they broach the topic of Heechul. Youngwoon seems a little cautious, as if even mentioning the name would break Jungsu-and it would’ve, if it was yesterday, but it’s not-but Jungsu just jumps into it just like any other subject.
“He always hated it when I told him I loved him,” he says, pushing his food around his plate. “I don’t know why. At first, I thought it was because he was still uncomfortable with his sexuality, but he said he’s accepted behind gay since high school. I just stopped saying it after a while and never thought about it, but…”
“Do you think he didn’t love you back?”
His unintentionally harsh question rings loudly in Jungsu’s mind. “I don’t know.”
“Well, don’t go assuming things when you’re not even sure if they’re true,” Youngwoon says, upon seeing his downcast expression. “I mean, he stayed for three years. That has to mean something, right?”
Jungsu shakes his head. “Let’s not talk about this anymore. It’s bringing the atmosphere down.”
And so they eat in silence for a little while longer, until Youngwoon speaks again.
“I was just wondering…when-when did you realize you were…you know…”
He raises his eyebrows. “What? Gay?”
“Yeah.”
Jungsu shrugs. “It’s not really that I hate women. They’re attractive too.”
“Then what makes you like guys more?”
“I guess…” This is something that he hasn’t thought about for a really long time. “A lot of the time, I feel like I can’t completely be myself around girls. But guys are usually a lot more laid back-and I feel better, knowing that they’re themselves around me, too. You usually hear how a girl is a lot more outgoing with her girl friends, but you never see that side of her when she’s around you or other guys.”
“So it’s more of a mental and emotional thing!” Youngwoon exclaims, as if he suddenly understands. Jungsu can’t help but laugh at his enthusiasm.
“Yeah, I guess. But I think guys are attractive, too-or else I’d never consider being with them romantically.” He can’t remember when he actually talked about his homosexuality-no one’s ever really asked him about it. Hyukjae just came to accept it, since they’ve known each other for years, and the others-well, to them, it’s always been Jungsu and Heechul. There was no questioning Jungsu and Heechul.
(But now that they’ve fallen apart, there is everything to question.)
Youngwoon remains silent for a moment, deep in thought. “What made you realize you were gay?”
“Honestly?” At this, Jungsu swallows. “Heechul.”
(Because Heechul has showed him so many things, taught him so many things. Heechul has always been his everything.)
“So what about now? Are you considering girls again?”
“Why are you asking all of this?” He eyes Youngwoon, feigning suspicion. “Are you having conflicts about your own sexuality?”
Youngwoon just coughs and returns to his food. Jungsu takes that as enough of an answer.
“It’s not something you can just decide,” he says, hoping that he’s helpful towards the younger man in some way. “It takes time. You could like both guys and girls, too-there’s nothing wrong with that.” It feels like he has to repay Youngwoon somehow, for having been there for him the night before. Last night, Jungsu poured his heart out to Youngwoon-this is the least he could do in return.
Youngwoon doesn’t respond, and Jungsu doesn’t take any offense from it. Youngwoon is very much imperfect, he realizes-although he has many good points, there are still flaws-and somehow, that makes Jungsu more comfortable in his presence. It makes it feel alright for him to make mistakes, too.
“Are you gay, though?” he ventures to ask. “Earlier, Hyukjae was making insinuations.”
A look of horror washes over Youngwoon’s face. “I, uh-I don’t know!” he splutters. “God, that guy can’t keep his mouth shut for his own good. What did he say?”
“Nothing in particular,” Jungsu says, shrugging. “He was just being himself.”
He should’ve picked up something from that-he really should’ve. Jungsu should’ve noticed Youngwoon’s compassion towards him, should’ve noticed how he slept on the couch, and looked so disheveled while explaining why he didn’t sleep in his own bed-he should’ve noticed how Youngwoon is constantly dropping by his apartment when he has time, always listening with an open ear, how uncomfortable he is when they’re physically close to each other, but never moving away either-but Jungsu just always took all of that to be Youngwoon. He thought it was normal for Youngwoon.
Jungsu admits that he’s a little blind, and he’s always been a little oblivious-but it seems that as of recently, he’s been a little more negligent than usual.
(But how could he have suspected anything? How could he have seen Youngwoon, all of Youngwoon, when he was still busy thinking of Heechul? Jungsu hardly has himself figured out yet-how can he have given Youngwoon the time of day?)
They walk back to Jungsu’s place together because Youngwoon’s car is parked there. The sun is still up because it’s summer, but it’s already nearing nine in the evening.
“Thanks for dinner,” Youngwoon says. “We should do it more often.”
“We should!” he agrees with enthusiasm. “I can’t remember when I last had dinner with Hyukjae and had an intelligent conversation.” After a moment’s thought, he added, “Do you want to come in for some tea? There’s still some cake left over from last time.”
“Sure, why not? It’s not like I have anything better to do.”
And somehow, Youngwoon feels like an old friend, feels like warmth and acceptance and contentment.
Their conversation remains amicable as Youngwoon invites himself into Jungsu’s apartment like it’s his own home. And as the minutes tick past, Jungsu finds himself growing fonder and fonder of the younger man-he isn’t sure if it’s because of their earlier conversation, or if it’s just the natural course of friendship. Jungsu tends not to make close friends-he knows many people, and is able to socialize, but he rarely ever lets anyone in.
And before he knows it, it’s nearing midnight, and Youngwoon has to leave.
(And to be perfectly honest, he doesn’t know where the time went.)
“Youngwoon-ah,” Jungsu says suddenly, a thought coming to him. The younger man is in the middle of pulling on his shoes. “Thanks, you know.”
“For what?”
“For just…being there, I guess. No one’s ever listened to me the way you do.”
Youngwoon scratches the back of his head, embarrassed. “It’s nothing, really. I just like listening to you, I guess.” Jungsu can only smile, and feeling like it’s necessary, he steps closer to him and pulls him into a hug. He feels indebted to Youngwoon in so many ways that he isn’t even sure how to make it up to him.
Youngwoon noticeably freezes in Jungsu’s arms, but he doesn’t take heed. “You’re a really good friend,” he says sincerely. It’s a brief moment of silence, before Jungsu finds himself completely gathered in Youngwoon’s arms. “Youngwoon?”
The other man doesn’t answer, and Jungsu assumes along the lines of not being able to think of anything suitable to say, so he just relaxes against him, relishing the comfort of having another body pressed against his. It’s been a while.
“You’re…” And it’s almost like he’s about to say something, but he changes his mind at the last moment. “Never mind. You’re a good friend too.”
Jungsu pulls away a little, just enough to be able to look him in the face, trying to search for some sort of answer. Youngwoon’s always been a little difficult to open, he knows-either because of his pride, or because he really at a loss for words-because that happens often. He finds him absolutely fascinating-a string of flaws and awkward formalities tied together with good intentions.
“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned. “You look a little sick.”
And he really does look nauseous-his face is a sickly pale color, and Jungsu is genuinely worried. He was fine earlier this evening…
What he totally and completely doesn’t expect is to find his mouth covered by Youngwoon’s in the next moment.
(But he should’ve expected something. He really should’ve.)
It happens faster than his heart can leap to his throat, because Youngwoon abruptly pulls away, as if scalded. Jungsu stands there for a moment, stunned and bewildered.
“Sorry,” Youngwoon splutters. “I had no idea what I was doing. Sorry. I’ll leave.” And he’s halfway there, shoes already on, turning around to reach for the doorknob-when suddenly, Jungsu reaches for him, fingers locking around his wrist in a loose grip. Loose, but it’s enough to make him stay.
“Do that again,” he requests, his heart fogging up. Suddenly, all he can see is Youngwoon-this fumbling, awkward man who he realizes just then is actually very endearing-sees how good and honest he is. Youngwoon appears surprised for a moment, before hesitantly turning so he’s facing Jungsu again. Jungsu watches him with expectant eyes, and he takes a deep breath, before leaning forward and having their lips meet a second time.
Nothing like Heechul. That’s all Jungsu can register when their mouths move slowly, as if learning each other. He’s nothing like Heechul. And he has yet to figure out if that’s a good thing or not, but he decides that it isn’t the time. His hands reach up and thread through Youngwoon’s hair, pulling him closer, and he almost sighs when Youngwoon’s hands find his hips, clutching tight and-dare he say it-almost afraid.
It’s blissful-kissing, he means. Just that simple act. No tongues, no biting teeth-just kissing. Lips against lips, again and again and again until he’s breathless and satisfied but oh he won’t be satisfied until-
Almost subconsciously, Jungsu rolls his hips against Youngwoon’s, and it’s like the younger man shuts off.
It’s still for a frightening moment, before Youngwoon pulls away. “Sorry,” is all he mutters before turning on his heel and abruptly leaving the apartment, slamming the door loud behind him.
And Jungsu-Jungsu just sinks to the floor, having no idea what he did.
-
In the next few weeks, he doesn’t see him at all. Jungsu finds himself waiting around his apartment on Saturday afternoons for Youngwoon to visit (because he always visits on Saturday afternoons), but he ends up spending them alone.
And it’s the strangest thing in the world, feeling loneliness that isn’t caused by Heechul.
continue to part two >>