&kf003. revelation 22:13
TITLE Revelation 22:13
PAIRING Yewook
RATING PG-13
SUMMARY In which Jongwoon loses his religion and brothers, and doesn't know which ones he'll get back.
WARNING This is highly religiously sensitive. If you feel that you would be offended by atheist sentiments, please do not read this!
A/N LONGERFIC. \o/ Why yes, I fantasise about this sort of thing~ My disclaimer is that I'm happily atheist myself, and this is pretty much my biggest fantasy ever. I... I like this. Feel free to debate, dislike, argue, try to convert me.~
It hits Jongwoon slowly, like a benevolent cancer. It comes to him in small incremental steps, so tiny they're nigh imperceptible. It slips through the cracks of his consciousness, never asking, just spreading its poison through the network of his being.
So when the pieces of the whole finally add up one Sunday morning while he's at Mass, he's caught entirely unawares, and he's only left to wonder exactly what the fuck is going on in his head.
"There is no God." The words come out in a whisper, lips moving to form the syllables on an exhalation of breath. He speaks the words unbidden; they'd risen up within him and spilled over, and he'd been entirely powerless to prevent them coming out.
When he snaps back to reality, realising where he is and precisely what he's just said, he freezes, blood running cold and head pounding strongly. Frenzied, a shiver courses down the length of his spine; he whips his head up to see if anybody's looking at him, if anybody had heard him. But they're all caught up so intently in the sermon, and in the first truly confusing moment of his life Jongwoon wonders just how they can be so devout.
That was you five minutes ago, a voice in his head hisses, but somewhere inside him he secretly knows that hasn't been him for weeks -- months? -- now. He drops his head back down, slumping in his pew. A poor reflection of his mental state, his body regains stillness and composure as his head churns and runs rampant.
He feels decidedly and disturbingly like a deer caught in headlights, then, and it takes him every last ounce of his self-control to stop himself letting out some expression of his panic. He wants to run out, to scream to the world what he knows -- there is no God -- but he isn't so far gone that he doesn't realise that realistically his only option is to sit it out.
The next hour of his life is just about the most difficult he's ever had to endure. It tops the nervousness he'd felt for their debut performance; it tops the time they'd been in the hospital waiting-room, waiting for members who might never return. But he can only sit and listen, try and tune out the voices in his head the voices at the lectern. During that hour he knows with absolute certainty that he's finally passed the tipping-point, that his life has irrevocably changed, and it terrifies him to the core.
Communion has never tasted quite so bitter. The service seems endless to Jongwoon, but he just sits, and sits, and sits, all he can do; a shaken man in turmoil in a house of shaken faith.
**
The next week, Jongwoon goes back to Mass. He goes out of obligation, more than anything else; he's already revulsed by the thought of having to be back there, but old habits die hard. So it's with his stomach at ill ease that he finds himself seated in the familiar chapel again; his good old Sunday home, he reminds himself.
Then the demons come out once more, and they mentally add "keyword: old".
A valiant struggle begins to erupt in the warzone of his mind. In the reverent atmosphere of the church, he can't help but to listen to the parish priest delivering the sermon, but the sheer outrageousness of the words he's taking in threaten to send him into fits. His urge to scream out and run is reinstated. Eyes closing, blocking out senses to focus solely on making it through the next hours, he tries counting heartbeats.
He makes it to two before Corinthians and 3 John push to the forefront of his mind. And then he can't stop it -- the parish priest’s speech keeps whirlwinding through his brain, loud and insistent.
One hour and twelve minutes in, Jongwoon gives in. Simply unable to take any more, he disregards the fact that they're mid-hymn, ignores the fact that a mere fortnight ago his heart would have soared to be a part of this same chorus. He does what his heart tells him now -- to escape his prison cell, break out break free. In his semi-delirious state, he forgets just how rude it is to walk out in the middle of a service, and then does exactly that.
His feet move automatically; he doesn't spend a moment to stop and think, doesn't need to. He blinks, and the key is in the ignition, and then he blinks again, and he's driving down a quiet highway with the morning sun as his sole company. The next moment he has control of his body, he’s flicking down the front windows of his little black coupe in his mindless drive to catch the horizon.
**
If any of the members notice the change in Jongwoon, they take a long time going about confronting him about it. Hyukjae, late to his own service one Sunday morning, notices a happily pyjamad Jongwoon stationed in front of the television. “Not going to church today, hyung?” he asks, and gets an absent “Not today” in reply. In Hyukjae’s haste he puts the incident to the back of his mind, and merely shrugs it off as a slight curiosity, but not altogether unusual.
Siwon notices the disappearance of Jongwoon’s Bible, a mainstay of his bedside table, from his room altogether, and when he asks Jongwoon only attributes it to negligence, saying he’s probably left it lying around somewhere. Siwon buys that, of course, and doesn’t press it further.
The person who perceives his shift most clearly, however, is Ryeowook; they’ve been living too closely for too long. Jongwoon seems so preoccupied with his own thoughts these days, reluctant to accept anybody’s pennies for a slice of his mind. He’s always so absent from conversations, Ryeowook thinks, and then stresses again about how much colder Jongwoon is acting towards him.
Perhaps none of them knows what to say; sure, Jongwoon is infinitely more quiet and reserved than boisterous Yesung, but it’s all very relative. They come to their own conclusions about Jongwoon; Hyukjae thinks him lazy and Siwon careless. Ryeowook, though, knows that something in Jongwoon himself is different, and continues searching even harder for the possible ways in which he or the other members could have offended Jongwoon.
It’s only when the incidents become repeat that everybody else begins to take real note. Hyukjae asks him when he last went to church; Siwon asks him why he still hasn’t replaced his holy book; Jungsu feels responsible for his permanently altered demeanour and asks if he’s coping well with life; Ryeowook asks him with those large, seeking eyes whether anything’s wrong. To Hyukjae he admits he hasn’t been in well over a month, but to the others he is still evasive, shrugging off the question or giving some form of noncomittal response. All this time, Yesung stays as Yesung, but they can tell that it takes more and more out of Jongwoon to keep doing so.
They begin to worry soon after. Jungsu and Hyukjae discuss probable causes while pop plays through their headphones at Sukira; Donghae stays awake at night on occasion, willing himself into the headspace of the man sleeping just a few doors down. Even Heechul, in a rare show of concern, makes a comment over dinner one day about where the old Jongwoon has gone. But then the mentioned man breezes into the room, and the others fall silent; he just smiles at them, expression restrained but by no means unhappy, and joins them at the table.
And Ryeowook -- Ryeowook just frets further, and then Jungsu worries about him too, and wishes everything would just go back to a state of normality, back to the way they were.
**
It takes a little over two months for any of them to find out what’s going on with Jongwoon. By this time, Jongwoon is much less reserved, although he remains guarded and secretive about the reason for his lapse into different patterns of behaviour. Things aren’t yet as comfortable as they used to be; a faintly discernible aura of tension still surrounds his presence, and Ryeowook certainly feels no better about his perceived maltreatment at the hands of Jongwoon.
Unsurprisingly, the first of them to be privy to the truth is indeed Ryeowook -- although perhaps it comes as a surprise to him, in all his paranoia about having done something to upset Jongwoon -- and the manner in which he finds out is very much on Jongwoon’s terms. It is a blissfully schedule-free Thursday when Jongwoon unceremoniously announces to Ryeowook that he’s taking him out to brunch. Ryeowook frowns, visibly confused by this new alteration in Jongwoon’s behaviour, but gets himself up, out of the house and into Jongwoon’s car without hesitation all the same.
They don’t speak much in the car; they haven’t spoken much in recent days. The air between them hangs heavy with anticipation. They’re both waiting for the right moment, and it isn’t here it isn’t now. Ryeowook rests an arm against the passenger side window, gaze tucked away behind white-rimmed aviators, humming to himself when their conversation falls silent.
Jongwoon takes Ryeowook to a cozy brunch spot, an atmospheric café serving Western-style fare. It’s Jongwoon’s secret hideaway from the city when he needs it, and he guesses from the spark in Ryeowook’s eyes as he walks in that his choice has been met with approval. They take their seats at a wooden table, idly flicking through menus, and once they’ve ordered the space between them goes quiet again as the small talk fades away.
Staring out of a window, head turned to the side, Jongwoon seems distracted again, and Ryeowook almost wants nothing more than to lean over and slap him into attentiveness. But he can see the fear dancing behind those chocolate eyes, and so he bides his time, gives Jongwoon time.
When Jongwoon finally speaks, time slows down for Ryeowook. He knows -- just knows -- that this is the moment he’s waited months for. Turning sharply to stare straight at Jongwoon as soon as he notices Jongwoon’s lips part, he inhales, and then all the breath is knocked out of him when the words drop, syllable by agonising syllable.
“There is no God, Ryeowook.”
Ryeowook wants to laugh off the gravity of the words, wants Jongwoon’s face to crack into one of those disarming smiles and tell him this is a joke, or a dream. But he looks up at Jongwoon’s firmly set countenance, and knows his wants will not become realities. His own face morphs into a look of total incomprehension, and he’s honest with Jongwoon. “I don’t understand.”
“There is no God,” he repeats, and the words hit even more slowly than they had before. “It’s just seven billion, fifty-two million, one-hundred-and-fifty thousand and thirty-eight people and science.”
In his attempts to understand exactly what it is that Jongwoon’s telling him, Ryeowook’s face contorts further, brows knitting together under hands brought up to temples. “How did this happen, Jongwoon?” he asks quietly.
“It’s been dawning on me, really slowly,” Jongwoon says, and sighs heavily. “I’m sorry I’ve been so dead to you lately. I’ve been thinking about what it means for there to be no God, and it’s kinda confronting. But Wook -- there really isn’t. We’ve been using God as an excuse for why things happen for so long, when we’ve had complete autonomy all this time. The rest of my life is all mine, and mine alone. I don’t want to live like that any more. I’m sure of it now, and I want you to be, too. That’s why I’m telling you.”
Ryeowook just continues to look at him, confused. “How can you say that! There is a God, and He loves you, even in your current state of -- of this, I don’t even know what this is.”
Jongwoon sighs again. “You’ve gotta stop just listening to what you want to hear.”
The food choses that moment to arrive, and silence falls between them again. Neither appetite has been dampened; Jongwoon forks at his eggs Benedict, appreciating the irony of the dish, while Ryeowook uncharacteristically aggressively knifes through his pancakes, tortured facial expression persisting.
Their meal ends in silence, until it is broken by Ryeowook’s soft entreaty: “Please take me home, Jongwoon.” The marked change in Ryeowook’s tone forces Jongwoon to pay attention to him. His eyes are resigned now, but Jongwoon can’t read the emotion etched on his face. He doesn’t argue when Jongwoon pays the bill, and he lags a little behind Jongwoon when they make their way back to the carpark.
Ryeowook’s arm goes back to resting against the window, but this time he turns his head away from Jongwoon to sit on his arm; it means Jongwoon doesn’t see when his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears.
**
The role reversal between Jongwoon and Ryeowook becomes heavily apparent after that. Already quiet by nature, Ryeowook withdraws even further; it’s now Jongwoon who tries cautious conversation starters, only to be met with short, dismissive responses. The difference this time is that Jongwoon knows the reason for Ryeowook’s induced silence, and he knows that his best approach is to be patient.
Jungsu has already been mindless with worry for days when he corners Jongwoon about Ryeowook. The new tightness of Ryeowook’s lips means that he hasn’t told any of the others about that brunch, and their speculations have only intensified. Protective of Ryeowook as ever, Jungsu doesn’t bother with pleasantries, just tells Jongwoon that he needs to know right now.
Reluctantly, Jongwoon indulges him; at the end of it, Jungsu looks at him with a new tilt of his head. Fortunately, he’s more forgiving than Ryeowook had been: “I don’t know how you changed like that, and I don’t agree with your decision, but I respect it all the same.” And then he smiles, a new weight off his shoulders now that he knows that Ryeowook will be fine.
Jongwoon had forgotten to preface his confession with Jungsu’s promise not to tell any of the others, so inevitably news of his newfound loss spreads rapidly to them. Each of them responds in his own particular way when he finds out; Kyuhyun is stunned into speechlessness, while Heechul lets out a satisfactory smirk, and Sungmin stutters out protests and denials. Some of them avoid him a little more than usual, and some adjust instantly, not seeing the fuss about the change.
Devout Siwon naturally takes it upon himself to banish the devil from Jongwoon, knocking on the door of his room as soon as he possibly can after finding out. He swings the door open and steps through at “Come in”, speech already prepared in his mind.
He sees Jongwoon tapping away at his laptop. “Can I speak to you for a moment, hyung?” Rewarded with a smile and a nod, he presses on. “What’s this I hear about you giving up your faith in God?”
Jongwoon shuts his laptop lid then, and turns to face him completely. “If you’re here to convince me back into believing, then it won’t work.” It comes out harsher than expected, but that only flicks a switch within Siwon, flaring up a temper reserved exclusively for religion-induced debates.
“But how can you just turn your back on Him like that, Jongwoon? How? Your whole life you’ve known the truth and the light, and in an instant you’ve just given up on Him.” His eyes are a challenge, daring Jongwoon to rise to meet it.
“It didn’t just happen overnight,” Jongwoon nearly hisses, Siwon’s restrained anger fanning the flames of his own frustration. “This is the truth, and I don’t want to be like you any longer.” Before he has the chance to injure a rapidly deteriorating friendship any further, he stands and makes his way past Siwon out of the room. Siwon’s hands are already out to stop Jongwoon as he passes, and a million retorts play at the tip of his tongue. But God is benevolent, Siwon tells himself, and bites down hard on his lip instead.
Somehow Jongwoon is hearing the familiar purr of his car’s engine again, and the sunset looms large before him as he stretches out a tiny hand towards it, and he swears he touches it this time.
**
By the next month or so, Jongwoon bounces back from the changes of opinion of him and the associated aftermath. All the others go back to treating him as they always have, bar Siwon; although the two of them haven’t resorted to outright yelling matches and they’ve reconciled on a superficial level, unspoken sentences still hang in the uncomfortable air between them.
Ryeowook, however, is not so lucky; his internal chaos endures for weeks, never fully recovering. As both the closest to Ryeowook and the essential reason for Ryeowook’s current state, Jongwoon doesn’t know what he should do. Jongwoon had indeed imagined him to have some kind of drastic reaction to his religious confession, and while he hadn’t exactly expected Ryeowook to share his sentiments, he’d been hoping at least for a respectful acceptance of his viewpoint, like Jungsu had given. But this reaction is uncharted territory, and to Jongwoon even tiptoeing around the issue smacks of danger.
He can’t help his desire for answers, though, even if he knows he has no right to them. And so it’s on that note that he takes Ryeowook out to stargaze late one evening, black car slipping through midnight darkness. As usual, Ryeowook doesn’t ask, just follows; when they reach their destination and step out of the car, though, Jongwoon is sure that Ryeowook can sense his intentions, and the smaller man falls into cooperative silence as he lets Jongwoon dictate the course of the night.
Jongwoon might not know what to say, or how to broach the topic; all he knows is that he’s doing it all wrong when he leans forward to capture Ryeowook’s lips in a kiss. Eyes widening in pure shock, Ryeowook makes to pull back, but when he has Jongwoon’s hands on the back of his neck and at his waist and the addictive taste of Jongwoon on his tongue he only melts towards him. Jongwoon feels Ryeowook lean in further to deepen the kiss, needy and pliant beneath his touch, and Jongwoon draws him closer, reveling in this very moment that should’ve first occurred so many moons ago.
The next thing he can remember is his panic when he tastes salt in the kiss, and he pulls back immediately, startled. Ryeowook, however, seems reluctant to break the contact, staying frozen where he is. Confusion registers in Jongwoon’s eyes as he looks at a lachrymose Ryeowook, and thinking he must’ve misread the whole situation apologies hover at his lips at once.
“I-I’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, Wook...” He trails off, unsure, but leaves his hands where they are.
Ryeowook just cries harder. “This is everything I wanted,” he whispers, when he’s composed enough to speak. “But you can’t just play with me like this, Jongwoon. You don’t just lose your God and then decide it’s okay to be homosexual. What happened to all the can’ts and won’ts?”
Jongwoon tries to tell him that he’s realised that they’ve been ousted by musts and needs, but Ryeowook won’t have any of it, and he doesn’t wipe his eyes to see the plea in Jongwoon’s own. “I still need more time” are the only words he can form for the rest of the evening, and even those are lost to inexorable bouts of relentless tears as he collapses limply in Jongwoon’s arms. Jongwoon wants to cry, too, when he hears how broken Ryeowook’s voice is, when he sees the wet tracks running over those sharp cheekbones, when he realises that it’s him who’s doing this to Ryeowook, but he holds himself together knowing he has to keep Ryeowook aloft.
Ryeowook doesn’t need to ask to be taken home this time. Jongwoon simply leads him back to the moonlit car, speeding down the highways home, failing to stop for the sequence of amber lights he runs; his adrenaline is only fueled by Ryeowook’s choked sobs. As soon as they’re in the dorm, Ryeowook beelines for his bed and lies there, unmoving, and Jongwoon makes it his responsibility to watch over his sleeping constellation for the rest of the night.
**
It comes as no surprise to them when Ryeowook tells them he’s taking a short vacation. It isn’t much of a problem; they’re well out of the promotional period for their latest album, and with no imminent major performances the timing of it works out conveniently. Just before he leaves the dorm with a small tote bag of belongings, he makes sure to tells Jungsu that it has nothing to do with Jongwoon. Jongwoon watches him go, heart a little heavy, but he trusts that Ryeowook knows what he’s doing in taking time away.
Their goodbye had been slightly stilted, but not outright awkward; the subtext was too clear to both of them, and it entailed a conversation of which neither of them wished to be a part. I won’t be gone long, just a week, Ryeowook had said, and Jongwoon hadn’t really known what to make of that. This isn’t your fault. A halfhearted smile had accompanied his words, and all Jongwoon could feel after that was gut-wretching guilt and utter fear about how things would be between them afterwards.
Despite one member missing, the household continues to run smoothly; most of them find themselves once again in the position of being unable to find the right words to say to Jongwoon, but he feels like he deserves it this time. At the very least, he’s grateful that Jungsu isn’t at his back on the matter; wisely, Jungsu realises that some affairs aren’t his to meddle in and some things are simply out of his depth, and says nothing more to Jongwoon about it.
That one week sees Jongwoon cycle through just about every emotion he’s ever experienced. It starts at fear, goes through anger hurt depression embarrassment shame optimism pessimism nausea hatred insanity, and ends at fear when he realises that Ryeowook’s behaviour when he returns will set the standard of everything between them for the rest of their lives.
Siwon decides that Ryeowook’s absence is entirely on Jongwoon, and takes it as an excuse to avoid Jongwoon even more than usual; Jongwoon is quietly grateful that he doesn’t have to listen to any more holier-than-thou tirades. Kyuhyun and Donghae are sympathetic, though, with their own experiences of friendship problems, and much of Jongwoon’s week is spent in amiable silence with the two.
“Life is ridiculous,” he tells Kyuhyun one day, tied up in one of his bouts of existentialism. The magnae might have mumbled some response claiming that was the reason he played games, but Jongwoon is too tired to notice any of it.
The other boys offer Jongwoon space, too, but he makes it clear that he wants nothing more or less than normal interaction with them. He reasons that they don’t need to know that his insecurities have kept him up every night of the week, so despite the darkening bags under his eyes he puts on a brave face and pretends that everything is fine.
He’s virtually breaking up on the inside, of course, but some secrets should just stay secrets.
**
Somehow, Jongwoon makes it to the end of the longest week of his life. His attempts to distract himself in the past two days have been successful, as he barely bats an eyelid when the other inhabitants of the dorm all decide that they have somewhere to be on the night that Ryeowook’s due to come back. Headphones over ears on the Saturday night, he only just hears the insistent buzz of the doorbell, and he even fails to connect the sound with the return of his roommate.
Jumping up to get to the door to wonder who this latest distraction could be, he turns the locks on the front door, feeling the first tinges of frustration welling up. But then he catches sight of the figure beyond the door, and a silent “oh” drops from his lips.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” says Ryeowook with a sunshine smile. “Now are you going to let me in?”
Jongwoon hastily stammers out apologies, but Ryeowook has barely dropped his bag on the floor before he presses a finger to his lips and says “Shh, let’s go out for a drive”. Jongwoon casts a wary eye across at this newly confident Ryeowook, who looks so much less pale and drawn than the same incarnation a week ago, then grabs his keys and a jacket and bundles them through the front door.
Nerves are still adversely affecting Jongwoon’s ability to speak when they’re cruising down the lamplit streets. Ryeowook hasn’t told him where to drive, but he decides the silence is too comfortable to break and lets his body switch to autopilot. Absently, he wonders if he should be asking Ryeowook how his holiday was, but then Ryeowook picks up a cheerful melody in a soft hum and Jongwoon decides that’s probably answer enough.
The chosen battleground turns out to be a familiar park, an old haunt of Jongwoon’s where they’d watched fireworks burst on the night sky so many years before; a fitting setting for this crucial confrontation. Jongwoon hasn’t the slightest idea of what to expect from this new Ryeowook, and his pounding heartbeat doesn’t make it any easier for him to think straight. He sways a little as he gets out of the car, holding the door to steady himself, but in an instant Ryeowook is by his side, leading him by the hand towards the open field.
Jongwoon looks at Ryeowook, then, all moonlit eyes and blinding smile, and Jongwoon wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that the stars pale in comparison to him. “Ryeowook,” he starts, but Ryeowook only shakes his head and quickens his step, pulling a thoroughly perplexed Jongwoon along.
When they reach the middle of the field, Ryeowook stops and sits. Jongwoon follows suit, hand tucked into Ryeowook’s all the while, and they sit side-by-side beneath the galaxy. This is the moment. He’s sure his heart will explode if it beats any faster or any more insistently.
Ryeowook says nothing for a million heartbeats, eyes closed and face tilted up towards the moon. Jongwoon hears every one of Ryeowook’s slow breaths, and it serves to calm him slightly and help him forget about the anticipation gnawing holes in the pit of his stomach.
On the first word -- “Jongwoon” -- he can feel his heart flatlining.
A second word never follows. There’s only a light pressure on his chest, which he realises is not asphyxiation but Ryeowook pushing him backwards into the long grass. Ryeowook hovers irresistibly above him, divine eyes framed by soft bangs framed by the stars and moon beside his head, and then his impossibly soft lips are on Jongwoon’s own. Jongwoon’s hands move to wrap around Ryeowook’s body, tangling in his hair, pulling him ever closer.
They don’t break apart to breathe for what feels like lifetimes. Flushed and panting, Ryeowook drops his head lower, mouth at Jongwoon’s ear.
“I love you.” Whispered, the words go straight through to Jongwoon’s soul. “The rest of my life is all yours.”
PAIRING Yewook
RATING PG-13
SUMMARY In which Jongwoon loses his religion and brothers, and doesn't know which ones he'll get back.
WARNING This is highly religiously sensitive. If you feel that you would be offended by atheist sentiments, please do not read this!
A/N LONGERFIC. \o/ Why yes, I fantasise about this sort of thing~ My disclaimer is that I'm happily atheist myself, and this is pretty much my biggest fantasy ever. I... I like this. Feel free to debate, dislike, argue, try to convert me.~
It hits Jongwoon slowly, like a benevolent cancer. It comes to him in small incremental steps, so tiny they're nigh imperceptible. It slips through the cracks of his consciousness, never asking, just spreading its poison through the network of his being.
So when the pieces of the whole finally add up one Sunday morning while he's at Mass, he's caught entirely unawares, and he's only left to wonder exactly what the fuck is going on in his head.
"There is no God." The words come out in a whisper, lips moving to form the syllables on an exhalation of breath. He speaks the words unbidden; they'd risen up within him and spilled over, and he'd been entirely powerless to prevent them coming out.
When he snaps back to reality, realising where he is and precisely what he's just said, he freezes, blood running cold and head pounding strongly. Frenzied, a shiver courses down the length of his spine; he whips his head up to see if anybody's looking at him, if anybody had heard him. But they're all caught up so intently in the sermon, and in the first truly confusing moment of his life Jongwoon wonders just how they can be so devout.
That was you five minutes ago, a voice in his head hisses, but somewhere inside him he secretly knows that hasn't been him for weeks -- months? -- now. He drops his head back down, slumping in his pew. A poor reflection of his mental state, his body regains stillness and composure as his head churns and runs rampant.
He feels decidedly and disturbingly like a deer caught in headlights, then, and it takes him every last ounce of his self-control to stop himself letting out some expression of his panic. He wants to run out, to scream to the world what he knows -- there is no God -- but he isn't so far gone that he doesn't realise that realistically his only option is to sit it out.
The next hour of his life is just about the most difficult he's ever had to endure. It tops the nervousness he'd felt for their debut performance; it tops the time they'd been in the hospital waiting-room, waiting for members who might never return. But he can only sit and listen, try and tune out the voices in his head the voices at the lectern. During that hour he knows with absolute certainty that he's finally passed the tipping-point, that his life has irrevocably changed, and it terrifies him to the core.
Communion has never tasted quite so bitter. The service seems endless to Jongwoon, but he just sits, and sits, and sits, all he can do; a shaken man in turmoil in a house of shaken faith.
**
The next week, Jongwoon goes back to Mass. He goes out of obligation, more than anything else; he's already revulsed by the thought of having to be back there, but old habits die hard. So it's with his stomach at ill ease that he finds himself seated in the familiar chapel again; his good old Sunday home, he reminds himself.
Then the demons come out once more, and they mentally add "keyword: old".
A valiant struggle begins to erupt in the warzone of his mind. In the reverent atmosphere of the church, he can't help but to listen to the parish priest delivering the sermon, but the sheer outrageousness of the words he's taking in threaten to send him into fits. His urge to scream out and run is reinstated. Eyes closing, blocking out senses to focus solely on making it through the next hours, he tries counting heartbeats.
He makes it to two before Corinthians and 3 John push to the forefront of his mind. And then he can't stop it -- the parish priest’s speech keeps whirlwinding through his brain, loud and insistent.
One hour and twelve minutes in, Jongwoon gives in. Simply unable to take any more, he disregards the fact that they're mid-hymn, ignores the fact that a mere fortnight ago his heart would have soared to be a part of this same chorus. He does what his heart tells him now -- to escape his prison cell, break out break free. In his semi-delirious state, he forgets just how rude it is to walk out in the middle of a service, and then does exactly that.
His feet move automatically; he doesn't spend a moment to stop and think, doesn't need to. He blinks, and the key is in the ignition, and then he blinks again, and he's driving down a quiet highway with the morning sun as his sole company. The next moment he has control of his body, he’s flicking down the front windows of his little black coupe in his mindless drive to catch the horizon.
**
If any of the members notice the change in Jongwoon, they take a long time going about confronting him about it. Hyukjae, late to his own service one Sunday morning, notices a happily pyjamad Jongwoon stationed in front of the television. “Not going to church today, hyung?” he asks, and gets an absent “Not today” in reply. In Hyukjae’s haste he puts the incident to the back of his mind, and merely shrugs it off as a slight curiosity, but not altogether unusual.
Siwon notices the disappearance of Jongwoon’s Bible, a mainstay of his bedside table, from his room altogether, and when he asks Jongwoon only attributes it to negligence, saying he’s probably left it lying around somewhere. Siwon buys that, of course, and doesn’t press it further.
The person who perceives his shift most clearly, however, is Ryeowook; they’ve been living too closely for too long. Jongwoon seems so preoccupied with his own thoughts these days, reluctant to accept anybody’s pennies for a slice of his mind. He’s always so absent from conversations, Ryeowook thinks, and then stresses again about how much colder Jongwoon is acting towards him.
Perhaps none of them knows what to say; sure, Jongwoon is infinitely more quiet and reserved than boisterous Yesung, but it’s all very relative. They come to their own conclusions about Jongwoon; Hyukjae thinks him lazy and Siwon careless. Ryeowook, though, knows that something in Jongwoon himself is different, and continues searching even harder for the possible ways in which he or the other members could have offended Jongwoon.
It’s only when the incidents become repeat that everybody else begins to take real note. Hyukjae asks him when he last went to church; Siwon asks him why he still hasn’t replaced his holy book; Jungsu feels responsible for his permanently altered demeanour and asks if he’s coping well with life; Ryeowook asks him with those large, seeking eyes whether anything’s wrong. To Hyukjae he admits he hasn’t been in well over a month, but to the others he is still evasive, shrugging off the question or giving some form of noncomittal response. All this time, Yesung stays as Yesung, but they can tell that it takes more and more out of Jongwoon to keep doing so.
They begin to worry soon after. Jungsu and Hyukjae discuss probable causes while pop plays through their headphones at Sukira; Donghae stays awake at night on occasion, willing himself into the headspace of the man sleeping just a few doors down. Even Heechul, in a rare show of concern, makes a comment over dinner one day about where the old Jongwoon has gone. But then the mentioned man breezes into the room, and the others fall silent; he just smiles at them, expression restrained but by no means unhappy, and joins them at the table.
And Ryeowook -- Ryeowook just frets further, and then Jungsu worries about him too, and wishes everything would just go back to a state of normality, back to the way they were.
**
It takes a little over two months for any of them to find out what’s going on with Jongwoon. By this time, Jongwoon is much less reserved, although he remains guarded and secretive about the reason for his lapse into different patterns of behaviour. Things aren’t yet as comfortable as they used to be; a faintly discernible aura of tension still surrounds his presence, and Ryeowook certainly feels no better about his perceived maltreatment at the hands of Jongwoon.
Unsurprisingly, the first of them to be privy to the truth is indeed Ryeowook -- although perhaps it comes as a surprise to him, in all his paranoia about having done something to upset Jongwoon -- and the manner in which he finds out is very much on Jongwoon’s terms. It is a blissfully schedule-free Thursday when Jongwoon unceremoniously announces to Ryeowook that he’s taking him out to brunch. Ryeowook frowns, visibly confused by this new alteration in Jongwoon’s behaviour, but gets himself up, out of the house and into Jongwoon’s car without hesitation all the same.
They don’t speak much in the car; they haven’t spoken much in recent days. The air between them hangs heavy with anticipation. They’re both waiting for the right moment, and it isn’t here it isn’t now. Ryeowook rests an arm against the passenger side window, gaze tucked away behind white-rimmed aviators, humming to himself when their conversation falls silent.
Jongwoon takes Ryeowook to a cozy brunch spot, an atmospheric café serving Western-style fare. It’s Jongwoon’s secret hideaway from the city when he needs it, and he guesses from the spark in Ryeowook’s eyes as he walks in that his choice has been met with approval. They take their seats at a wooden table, idly flicking through menus, and once they’ve ordered the space between them goes quiet again as the small talk fades away.
Staring out of a window, head turned to the side, Jongwoon seems distracted again, and Ryeowook almost wants nothing more than to lean over and slap him into attentiveness. But he can see the fear dancing behind those chocolate eyes, and so he bides his time, gives Jongwoon time.
When Jongwoon finally speaks, time slows down for Ryeowook. He knows -- just knows -- that this is the moment he’s waited months for. Turning sharply to stare straight at Jongwoon as soon as he notices Jongwoon’s lips part, he inhales, and then all the breath is knocked out of him when the words drop, syllable by agonising syllable.
“There is no God, Ryeowook.”
Ryeowook wants to laugh off the gravity of the words, wants Jongwoon’s face to crack into one of those disarming smiles and tell him this is a joke, or a dream. But he looks up at Jongwoon’s firmly set countenance, and knows his wants will not become realities. His own face morphs into a look of total incomprehension, and he’s honest with Jongwoon. “I don’t understand.”
“There is no God,” he repeats, and the words hit even more slowly than they had before. “It’s just seven billion, fifty-two million, one-hundred-and-fifty thousand and thirty-eight people and science.”
In his attempts to understand exactly what it is that Jongwoon’s telling him, Ryeowook’s face contorts further, brows knitting together under hands brought up to temples. “How did this happen, Jongwoon?” he asks quietly.
“It’s been dawning on me, really slowly,” Jongwoon says, and sighs heavily. “I’m sorry I’ve been so dead to you lately. I’ve been thinking about what it means for there to be no God, and it’s kinda confronting. But Wook -- there really isn’t. We’ve been using God as an excuse for why things happen for so long, when we’ve had complete autonomy all this time. The rest of my life is all mine, and mine alone. I don’t want to live like that any more. I’m sure of it now, and I want you to be, too. That’s why I’m telling you.”
Ryeowook just continues to look at him, confused. “How can you say that! There is a God, and He loves you, even in your current state of -- of this, I don’t even know what this is.”
Jongwoon sighs again. “You’ve gotta stop just listening to what you want to hear.”
The food choses that moment to arrive, and silence falls between them again. Neither appetite has been dampened; Jongwoon forks at his eggs Benedict, appreciating the irony of the dish, while Ryeowook uncharacteristically aggressively knifes through his pancakes, tortured facial expression persisting.
Their meal ends in silence, until it is broken by Ryeowook’s soft entreaty: “Please take me home, Jongwoon.” The marked change in Ryeowook’s tone forces Jongwoon to pay attention to him. His eyes are resigned now, but Jongwoon can’t read the emotion etched on his face. He doesn’t argue when Jongwoon pays the bill, and he lags a little behind Jongwoon when they make their way back to the carpark.
Ryeowook’s arm goes back to resting against the window, but this time he turns his head away from Jongwoon to sit on his arm; it means Jongwoon doesn’t see when his eyes begin to shine with unshed tears.
**
The role reversal between Jongwoon and Ryeowook becomes heavily apparent after that. Already quiet by nature, Ryeowook withdraws even further; it’s now Jongwoon who tries cautious conversation starters, only to be met with short, dismissive responses. The difference this time is that Jongwoon knows the reason for Ryeowook’s induced silence, and he knows that his best approach is to be patient.
Jungsu has already been mindless with worry for days when he corners Jongwoon about Ryeowook. The new tightness of Ryeowook’s lips means that he hasn’t told any of the others about that brunch, and their speculations have only intensified. Protective of Ryeowook as ever, Jungsu doesn’t bother with pleasantries, just tells Jongwoon that he needs to know right now.
Reluctantly, Jongwoon indulges him; at the end of it, Jungsu looks at him with a new tilt of his head. Fortunately, he’s more forgiving than Ryeowook had been: “I don’t know how you changed like that, and I don’t agree with your decision, but I respect it all the same.” And then he smiles, a new weight off his shoulders now that he knows that Ryeowook will be fine.
Jongwoon had forgotten to preface his confession with Jungsu’s promise not to tell any of the others, so inevitably news of his newfound loss spreads rapidly to them. Each of them responds in his own particular way when he finds out; Kyuhyun is stunned into speechlessness, while Heechul lets out a satisfactory smirk, and Sungmin stutters out protests and denials. Some of them avoid him a little more than usual, and some adjust instantly, not seeing the fuss about the change.
Devout Siwon naturally takes it upon himself to banish the devil from Jongwoon, knocking on the door of his room as soon as he possibly can after finding out. He swings the door open and steps through at “Come in”, speech already prepared in his mind.
He sees Jongwoon tapping away at his laptop. “Can I speak to you for a moment, hyung?” Rewarded with a smile and a nod, he presses on. “What’s this I hear about you giving up your faith in God?”
Jongwoon shuts his laptop lid then, and turns to face him completely. “If you’re here to convince me back into believing, then it won’t work.” It comes out harsher than expected, but that only flicks a switch within Siwon, flaring up a temper reserved exclusively for religion-induced debates.
“But how can you just turn your back on Him like that, Jongwoon? How? Your whole life you’ve known the truth and the light, and in an instant you’ve just given up on Him.” His eyes are a challenge, daring Jongwoon to rise to meet it.
“It didn’t just happen overnight,” Jongwoon nearly hisses, Siwon’s restrained anger fanning the flames of his own frustration. “This is the truth, and I don’t want to be like you any longer.” Before he has the chance to injure a rapidly deteriorating friendship any further, he stands and makes his way past Siwon out of the room. Siwon’s hands are already out to stop Jongwoon as he passes, and a million retorts play at the tip of his tongue. But God is benevolent, Siwon tells himself, and bites down hard on his lip instead.
Somehow Jongwoon is hearing the familiar purr of his car’s engine again, and the sunset looms large before him as he stretches out a tiny hand towards it, and he swears he touches it this time.
**
By the next month or so, Jongwoon bounces back from the changes of opinion of him and the associated aftermath. All the others go back to treating him as they always have, bar Siwon; although the two of them haven’t resorted to outright yelling matches and they’ve reconciled on a superficial level, unspoken sentences still hang in the uncomfortable air between them.
Ryeowook, however, is not so lucky; his internal chaos endures for weeks, never fully recovering. As both the closest to Ryeowook and the essential reason for Ryeowook’s current state, Jongwoon doesn’t know what he should do. Jongwoon had indeed imagined him to have some kind of drastic reaction to his religious confession, and while he hadn’t exactly expected Ryeowook to share his sentiments, he’d been hoping at least for a respectful acceptance of his viewpoint, like Jungsu had given. But this reaction is uncharted territory, and to Jongwoon even tiptoeing around the issue smacks of danger.
He can’t help his desire for answers, though, even if he knows he has no right to them. And so it’s on that note that he takes Ryeowook out to stargaze late one evening, black car slipping through midnight darkness. As usual, Ryeowook doesn’t ask, just follows; when they reach their destination and step out of the car, though, Jongwoon is sure that Ryeowook can sense his intentions, and the smaller man falls into cooperative silence as he lets Jongwoon dictate the course of the night.
Jongwoon might not know what to say, or how to broach the topic; all he knows is that he’s doing it all wrong when he leans forward to capture Ryeowook’s lips in a kiss. Eyes widening in pure shock, Ryeowook makes to pull back, but when he has Jongwoon’s hands on the back of his neck and at his waist and the addictive taste of Jongwoon on his tongue he only melts towards him. Jongwoon feels Ryeowook lean in further to deepen the kiss, needy and pliant beneath his touch, and Jongwoon draws him closer, reveling in this very moment that should’ve first occurred so many moons ago.
The next thing he can remember is his panic when he tastes salt in the kiss, and he pulls back immediately, startled. Ryeowook, however, seems reluctant to break the contact, staying frozen where he is. Confusion registers in Jongwoon’s eyes as he looks at a lachrymose Ryeowook, and thinking he must’ve misread the whole situation apologies hover at his lips at once.
“I-I’m so sorry if this isn’t what you wanted, Wook...” He trails off, unsure, but leaves his hands where they are.
Ryeowook just cries harder. “This is everything I wanted,” he whispers, when he’s composed enough to speak. “But you can’t just play with me like this, Jongwoon. You don’t just lose your God and then decide it’s okay to be homosexual. What happened to all the can’ts and won’ts?”
Jongwoon tries to tell him that he’s realised that they’ve been ousted by musts and needs, but Ryeowook won’t have any of it, and he doesn’t wipe his eyes to see the plea in Jongwoon’s own. “I still need more time” are the only words he can form for the rest of the evening, and even those are lost to inexorable bouts of relentless tears as he collapses limply in Jongwoon’s arms. Jongwoon wants to cry, too, when he hears how broken Ryeowook’s voice is, when he sees the wet tracks running over those sharp cheekbones, when he realises that it’s him who’s doing this to Ryeowook, but he holds himself together knowing he has to keep Ryeowook aloft.
Ryeowook doesn’t need to ask to be taken home this time. Jongwoon simply leads him back to the moonlit car, speeding down the highways home, failing to stop for the sequence of amber lights he runs; his adrenaline is only fueled by Ryeowook’s choked sobs. As soon as they’re in the dorm, Ryeowook beelines for his bed and lies there, unmoving, and Jongwoon makes it his responsibility to watch over his sleeping constellation for the rest of the night.
**
It comes as no surprise to them when Ryeowook tells them he’s taking a short vacation. It isn’t much of a problem; they’re well out of the promotional period for their latest album, and with no imminent major performances the timing of it works out conveniently. Just before he leaves the dorm with a small tote bag of belongings, he makes sure to tells Jungsu that it has nothing to do with Jongwoon. Jongwoon watches him go, heart a little heavy, but he trusts that Ryeowook knows what he’s doing in taking time away.
Their goodbye had been slightly stilted, but not outright awkward; the subtext was too clear to both of them, and it entailed a conversation of which neither of them wished to be a part. I won’t be gone long, just a week, Ryeowook had said, and Jongwoon hadn’t really known what to make of that. This isn’t your fault. A halfhearted smile had accompanied his words, and all Jongwoon could feel after that was gut-wretching guilt and utter fear about how things would be between them afterwards.
Despite one member missing, the household continues to run smoothly; most of them find themselves once again in the position of being unable to find the right words to say to Jongwoon, but he feels like he deserves it this time. At the very least, he’s grateful that Jungsu isn’t at his back on the matter; wisely, Jungsu realises that some affairs aren’t his to meddle in and some things are simply out of his depth, and says nothing more to Jongwoon about it.
That one week sees Jongwoon cycle through just about every emotion he’s ever experienced. It starts at fear, goes through anger hurt depression embarrassment shame optimism pessimism nausea hatred insanity, and ends at fear when he realises that Ryeowook’s behaviour when he returns will set the standard of everything between them for the rest of their lives.
Siwon decides that Ryeowook’s absence is entirely on Jongwoon, and takes it as an excuse to avoid Jongwoon even more than usual; Jongwoon is quietly grateful that he doesn’t have to listen to any more holier-than-thou tirades. Kyuhyun and Donghae are sympathetic, though, with their own experiences of friendship problems, and much of Jongwoon’s week is spent in amiable silence with the two.
“Life is ridiculous,” he tells Kyuhyun one day, tied up in one of his bouts of existentialism. The magnae might have mumbled some response claiming that was the reason he played games, but Jongwoon is too tired to notice any of it.
The other boys offer Jongwoon space, too, but he makes it clear that he wants nothing more or less than normal interaction with them. He reasons that they don’t need to know that his insecurities have kept him up every night of the week, so despite the darkening bags under his eyes he puts on a brave face and pretends that everything is fine.
He’s virtually breaking up on the inside, of course, but some secrets should just stay secrets.
**
Somehow, Jongwoon makes it to the end of the longest week of his life. His attempts to distract himself in the past two days have been successful, as he barely bats an eyelid when the other inhabitants of the dorm all decide that they have somewhere to be on the night that Ryeowook’s due to come back. Headphones over ears on the Saturday night, he only just hears the insistent buzz of the doorbell, and he even fails to connect the sound with the return of his roommate.
Jumping up to get to the door to wonder who this latest distraction could be, he turns the locks on the front door, feeling the first tinges of frustration welling up. But then he catches sight of the figure beyond the door, and a silent “oh” drops from his lips.
“It’s nice to see you, too,” says Ryeowook with a sunshine smile. “Now are you going to let me in?”
Jongwoon hastily stammers out apologies, but Ryeowook has barely dropped his bag on the floor before he presses a finger to his lips and says “Shh, let’s go out for a drive”. Jongwoon casts a wary eye across at this newly confident Ryeowook, who looks so much less pale and drawn than the same incarnation a week ago, then grabs his keys and a jacket and bundles them through the front door.
Nerves are still adversely affecting Jongwoon’s ability to speak when they’re cruising down the lamplit streets. Ryeowook hasn’t told him where to drive, but he decides the silence is too comfortable to break and lets his body switch to autopilot. Absently, he wonders if he should be asking Ryeowook how his holiday was, but then Ryeowook picks up a cheerful melody in a soft hum and Jongwoon decides that’s probably answer enough.
The chosen battleground turns out to be a familiar park, an old haunt of Jongwoon’s where they’d watched fireworks burst on the night sky so many years before; a fitting setting for this crucial confrontation. Jongwoon hasn’t the slightest idea of what to expect from this new Ryeowook, and his pounding heartbeat doesn’t make it any easier for him to think straight. He sways a little as he gets out of the car, holding the door to steady himself, but in an instant Ryeowook is by his side, leading him by the hand towards the open field.
Jongwoon looks at Ryeowook, then, all moonlit eyes and blinding smile, and Jongwoon wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that the stars pale in comparison to him. “Ryeowook,” he starts, but Ryeowook only shakes his head and quickens his step, pulling a thoroughly perplexed Jongwoon along.
When they reach the middle of the field, Ryeowook stops and sits. Jongwoon follows suit, hand tucked into Ryeowook’s all the while, and they sit side-by-side beneath the galaxy. This is the moment. He’s sure his heart will explode if it beats any faster or any more insistently.
Ryeowook says nothing for a million heartbeats, eyes closed and face tilted up towards the moon. Jongwoon hears every one of Ryeowook’s slow breaths, and it serves to calm him slightly and help him forget about the anticipation gnawing holes in the pit of his stomach.
On the first word -- “Jongwoon” -- he can feel his heart flatlining.
A second word never follows. There’s only a light pressure on his chest, which he realises is not asphyxiation but Ryeowook pushing him backwards into the long grass. Ryeowook hovers irresistibly above him, divine eyes framed by soft bangs framed by the stars and moon beside his head, and then his impossibly soft lips are on Jongwoon’s own. Jongwoon’s hands move to wrap around Ryeowook’s body, tangling in his hair, pulling him ever closer.
They don’t break apart to breathe for what feels like lifetimes. Flushed and panting, Ryeowook drops his head lower, mouth at Jongwoon’s ear.
“I love you.” Whispered, the words go straight through to Jongwoon’s soul. “The rest of my life is all yours.”