One Day at a Time (Part 2)

[panda_su]

iv.

Fall makes a short appearance and winter stays longer than necessary, and just when Chansung thinks it can't possibly get any colder, he receives an unexpected call. It's been a while since he's spoken to Taec. There's that casual exchange on their chat room which Khun created in order to stay in touch, and Wooyoung had forced Chansung to be an active participant in, but it’s been a very long time since he heard the other's actual voice.

"Hey" He says, unsure of how to proceed, but Taecyeon doesn't leave much room for awkwardness.

"You got a minute?" He says, his voice low and husky, and Chansung hates the fact that he no longer remembers whether or not that's how he usually sounds. "Sure, what's up?"

48 hours had gone by since the call and Chansung finds himself standing at the bus terminal of his hometown, looking around for the resemblance of a familiar face, but finding none. Did they forget? He checks the chat room, but there's nothing there. The funeral was today, so he's not surprise. He wishes he could have come earlier, but getting permission from his teachers took longer than expected, and the cheapest bus ticket had taken a quarter of his already meager savings, but he had to come. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't.

Taecyeon finally shows, and it takes a second for Chansung to associate the handsome stranger calling out his name with his nerdy friend. No traces of the tall, lanky, pre-pubescent that used to walk around with thick glasses and a new manga every week. This man was tall and filled in all the right places. With a suave confidence and deep voice that demanded attention. Chansung wasn't sure what to do, how to act, what the heck he was supposed to say. It has been so long. Yet his panic was uncalled for, and Taecyeon's body just as hard as he had imagined. Good god. Heavy arms are thrown around him and Chansung melts into the embrace. Taecyeon doesn't let him go. Not for a good while.

"So good to see you." He says, finally stepping back, getting a better look at Chansung. "You've grown."

"So have you."  Taecyeon smiles, and Chansung see glimpses of an old friend in that toothy grin.

"You came alone?"

"Everyone's at Junho's, helping out you know." Taecyeon grabs the duffel bag, Chansung's only luggage, and leads the way to where he parked the car. Chansung follows, falling into step beside him. They are almost at the same height now. The thought makes him smile, but then Taecyeon's words register, and he drops his gaze.

Right. Junho.

"How is he?"

"How do you think?"  A normal person would be devastated to find out one of their parents had passed away. Lee Junho was everything but normal.

"A raging bitch?"

"Has not shed a single tear, MinJun's been with him the whole time. He's the only one that knows how to handle him. Having been in that situation and all you know..."

Yes. Chansung knows it all too well.  The ride home is short, and mostly silent, and Chansung braces himself as they park in front of Junho's house. Taecyeon walks ahead, and Chansung follows him in, counting every step he takes until he's at the door. Taecyeon knocks. One second. Two seconds. Breathe. It hasn’t been that long. Another knock. More insistent this time, and now Nichkhun is at the door, looking like he hasn’t aged a day.

Taecyeon walks right by him, and Nichkhun has Chansung in a bone crushing hug before he can say a word. There's no room for greetings as MinJun's gentler, yet just as affectionate arms pull him in for another hug and a bit of scolding. He waves at Wooyoung, he sees him way too often, and finally his eyes find Junho's cold stare. He didn't think of what he would do pass this point.

"Screw You" Junho gets up and comes closer to Chansung. His lips are pressed into a thin line, and his arm rises, open palm hitting Chansung's chest.

"Fuck you Hwang Chansung." He says again. Hitting him again.  And again. Harder each time. And Chansung stands there and takes it, because is the only thing that he can do. The only thing he can do for a friend he has neglected for a long time. Junho needs an outlet. A reason to let it out.

"It takes my father dyi-" He chokes on the word, drops his gaze, and takes a hold of Chansung's shirt. "Fuck you." Junho storms off and Chansung moves to follow, but there’s a hand on his shoulder (Wooyoung) telling him to just let him go. MinJun goes after him, sparing an apologetic glance in Chansung’s direction.

“Come on.” Taecyeon tells him. “Let’s give the kid some room to breathe, is about time he shows some signs of been human.”

Taecyeon’s town house is nothing big or ostentatious and Chansung finds that he likes the simplicity of the sectional black leather couch, strategically placed in front of the an air vent designed to give the appearance of a fireplace.  He settles there, in a corner of the couch, feeling somewhat awkward. It seems that everyone was familiar with Taecyeon’s place. Even Wooyoung, who v-line for the second floor bathroom as soon as Taecyeon open the door. Everyone but him.

"How did it happen?” He asks, and hears Nichkhun sigh quietly. Taecyeon excuses himself to go to the kitchen, and Chansung waits.

“It was a reckless driver.” Nichkhun tells him. “Junho’s dad was crossing the intersection when another car t-boned him on the driver’s side. He was dead before the rescue crew arrived.”

“What about his mom?” The faint image of a woman with an eye smile identical to Junho’s crosses his mind and it pulls at Chansung’s heart.

“With relatives, they didn’t want her to be alone.”

“And Junho was doing so well too.” Wooyoung joins in, coming down the stairs and sitting next to Chansung.

“He’s going to pull through it.” Taecyeon adds, coming from the kitchen with a bowl of chips and a six pack. “Don’t forget this is Junho we are talking about.”

“The same hot headed, stubborn little fucker that use open the back door at the movie theaters for us to sneak in when we were too broke to pay.” Wooyoung offers, ignoring the snacks and going straight for the beer.

“The same idiot that forced himself to work a whole summer cutting grass in order to save for that game console.” Taecyeon goes on.

“Only to use it twice and declare he's bored with it.” Chansung finishes, and now he’s smiling. Remembering.

“What about that time during Khunie’s birthday and that fail attempt at playing badminton?”

“When he was chased by that neighbor’s dog? That was fucking epic.”

“Who tossed the ball over the fence anyway?”

“Wooyoung.”

“Fucking klutz.”

“He was mad at me for a week after that!”

Chansung’s outbursts of laughter is genuine and heartfelt. Even Wooyoung is laughing despite pretending to be offended and Taecyeon and Khun take over the storytelling. Sharing anecdotes of those good old times when they were young and life was uncomplicated, until 3 beers into the night Chansung’s eyes begin to droop. The day’s event, and the long trip finally taking a toll on him.

Too exhausted to go anywhere Chansung crashes on Taecyeon’s sofa. Wooyoung and Nichkhun claimed the spare bedroom and Taecyeon offers his bed, but Chansung would rather be alone. He tries to remember Junho’s dad. The many times they shared a table together. The spring he had paid them to clean out the garage, and Chansung had done all the work while Junho insisted his job was to supervise. Or the time all 6 of them had jumped in the back of a truck, and Junho’s dad drove them to a creek where they spent a hot summer day splashing around, unconcern.

Chansung cries. He cries because despite all that, he barely recalls the man’s face, his voice. This is someone he grew up with, a part of his childhood, and Chansung can't barely remember a thing. Something else that he forgot to appreciate, something else he had left behind sure that he still had all the time In the world. He doesn’t hear the footsteps over his muffled sobs, but there are arms wrapped around him. Strong, comforting arms that hold him as if he was breakable. A voice that tells him, is ok. You didn’t have to hold it in so long. Go ahead and cry. I won't tell a soul. Chansung falls asleep in Taecyeon’s embrace, all cried out, body completely spent.

The morning light brings back reality, and Chansung tries to stretch, only to find there’s something heavy pinning half of his body down. He opens one eye, noticing the “something” is Taecyeon’s arm and leg that are still wrapped around him, and he briefly wonders just how exactly they managed to share the couch without falling to the floor.

“Morning sunshine.” Nichkhun, cheerful and wide awake, grins at him from behind the couch and Chansung silently pleads for help. It takes some effort, grunting from Taecyeon, and giggling from Nichkhun, but he successfully escapes the ogre’s grasp, and follows Nichkhun who had promised some much needed caffeine.

In the kitchen he finds a pensive Wooyoung munching on a piece of toast, and offers a groggy good morning, that goes ignored.

“So with such a big bed, you two decide to snuggle in the couch?” Wooyoung says as Chansung takes a seat across from him, effectively stealing a piece of bread, and shrugging. It wasn’t that big a deal to spend the night on the couch. Was it?

“I didn’t mind the couch.”

“Since you had the right company...” There’s an undertone to Wooyoung’s voice that he can’t quite pick up on. He considers asking, but then Nichkhun is offering the promised coffee along with questions about what he wants for breakfast and Wooyoung is soon forgotten.

Is not until much later when they all gather at Junho’s that Chansung notices the bitterness coming from his friend once again, but by now is too late. Wooyoung refuses to admit anything is wrong, even though Chansung knows there is, but with Wooyoung sometimes is best to just let him be. Instead, he focuses on patching things up with a now calmer Junho. MinJun gets them to laugh with his ridiculous humor and Chansung slowly forgets and gets caught up in the moment. He’s laughing, sharing jokes.

Everything feels the same as it was back when they were younger, yet so different at the same time. There’s things there that weren’t before. Practical things like Khun having his own Photography studio, and Taecyeon no longer leaving at home, nor depending on his parents. Other things were harder to notice. Like the way MinJun’s gaze would soften whenever he glance in Wooyoung’s direction, or the way he would constantly find a way to get close to the other. He wonder at what point in time had that happen, if Wooyoung was even aware of it all? But before he can analyze the situation any deeper the tables are turn, and he is the one on the spotlight now.

They all want to know what he's been up to. How's his life, and he realizes that there is not really much to tell. School. Work. Sleep. Repeat. That pretty much sums it all up. His social life would be nonexistent if Seulong wasn't the constant pest that he was. Constantly repeating that someone as likable as Chansung shouldn't be hiding his nose behind a book at all times.

Unlike him, his friends have been up to a lot, or at least it seems that way to Chansung. Yet the more he learns about them, the more he realizes that he seems to be the only one out of the loop. The more they talk the more left out he feels. A feeling of unjustified resentment settles in and it only intensifies when Wooyoung brings up the subject of Taecyeon’s pass relationships. It shouldn’t bother him. It shouldn’t face him in any shape or form. It was his decision to stop calling, it was his decision to move on. It was he the one that presented Taecyeon with a report on the statistics of long distance relationships amounting to nothing.

Still, Wooyoung’s insistence to bring up Taecyeon’s last boyfriend, despite Taecyeon’s obvious attempt at changing the subject was enough to turn the festive mood into a sour one. Junho and Khun decide to call it a night, MinJun agrees and he turns to Wooyoung asking if he’s coming along. Wooyoung is reluctant to go, but MinJun insist.

“Are you masochistic  or just plain dumb?” MinJun finally says, and Chansung can’t help but feel like he’s missing something. For Wooyoung the words appear to be clear as day, and after a halfhearted good bye, he follows the other out of the house.  At the end is just him and Taecyeon. Whether by coincidence or design ,or perhaps an  unconscious desire to spend more time alone with the man, Chansung doesn't really know.

He rummages the kitchen for something to eat, maybe something with a little alcohol if he gets lucky. Anything to calm down the overactive nerves that have chosen this precise moment to go haywire. Taecyeon sits in the sofa, waiting, the TV is on, but he’s not really watching. Instead his eyes focus on Chansung as he approaches, half a bottle of wine in one hand, two plastic cups on the other, and a smile plays at the corner of his lips, make his eyes sparkle a bit, and Chansung has to look away, fight to retain his senses.

“I do own wine glasses you know…” Chansung shrugs, and refrains from mentioning that the only reason he brought the wine was because it was the only thing he could find. He personally doesn’t enjoy they dryness of this particular one, but he serves himself a glass anyway, offering one to Taecyeon as well, and finally sitting down beside him.

They are shoulder to shoulder, and Chansung is hyper aware of the warmth coming from the other, but he chooses to ignore it, focusing his eyes on the television instead. Benedict Cumberbatch has managed to get his attention for a while, he’s running around wearing a long trench coat and personifying a narcissistic, know-it-all, all around asshole Sherlock Holmes to the best of his abilities, but the distraction is short lived. Taecyeon laughs, the sound alluring and awfully soothing, and whatever is left in Chansung’s cup is finished. He’s about to fill another when Taecyeon offers his.

“I don’t need it.” He simply says, his attention back on the television, and Chansung’s brains go into overdrive, trying to decipher what Taecyeon meant by those words. Don’t need it for what? What makes him think that Chansung needs to drink? Is he being obvious? Is he overreacting? Probably. And now he wants to punch himself in the face.

“Is hard for me to see him playing anything other than Khan.” He says, setting the cup down, trying to find something neutral to talk about. Taecyeon chuckles. Chansung finds the lack of distance between them a bit unnerving.

“Are we going to play this game all night?” Chansung fakes ignorance, second cup of wine already finished, and on his way to a third.

“You could have said no when I asked you to spend the night.” Taecyeon says, inching closer, or maybe it was all Chansung’s imagination, aided by the stupid wine. How was it possible that his head was already fuzzy?

“My parents are using my room as a storage unit.” He defends. A believable explanation. “An actual bed didn’t sound so bad.”

“You could have gone home with Wooyoung, I’m sure he wouldn’t have minded.”

“There’s nothing between me and Woo.” He blurts out, and Taecyeon chuckles.

“Did I say otherwise?”

“The tone of your voice.” Chansung clarifies, irritated without a valid reason. “It insinuated-“

He finds himself unable to finish that sentence. Circumstances render him unable to properly utter a single coherent word, and Taecyeon’s scent is too much for him to handle. It makes him dizzy. Or is it the wine? Shit, he can really tell, but what really is unquestionable is that Taecyeon has gotten too close for comfort and Chansung can’t bring himself to protest.

A hand runs up and down his thigh and he finds he likes the prickling sensation that comes with the touch. He also likes the way Taecyeon crawls over his body, slowly closing in, and he moves back in return. His head finally meets the leather and there’s nowhere left to run, there’s no desire to do so either. Taecyeon stops at the last second, and is up to Chansung to take the final step. He licks his lip, and stares at the semi parted ones that hover above him. Is this what he wanted? Was this the reason why he chose to stay? Yes. Yes, it was.

Admitting it was the first and the hardest step. Doing something about it the easiest one.

They laid in bed sometime later, and Chansung closes his eyes. He focuses on the sound his heart makes as it pounds against his chest. Babum. Babum. Babum. His breath is still uneven and his body drenched in sweat, yet for the life of him he can bring himself to move. Next to him Taecyeon lays in a similar position, already drifting to sleep, and Chansung can’t help but wonder, was he the only one feeling this way?  He doesn’t remember the last time it was this good, this intense, and the less reasonable part of himself tells him that once is simply not enough. He wants it, this feeling of complete bliss, over and over again, on the shower, in the living room... Still… Tomorrow he would be going back to reality. Tomorrow Taecyeon would return to his thesis and his internship on that big company which Chansung knows he is very proud off. Tomorrow Chansung would have to face the consequences of missing two days of classes, plus he has work, and volunteering, and…

“Stop.” There’s a hand on his, a clammy, sweaty, anatomically-too-small hand that holds on tight, and squishes hard enough to get his attention. “I can hear you thinking. So stop.” Taecyeon says and Chansung frowns.

“That’s impossible.”

“Not for me. Not if it’s you.” Taecyeon turns on his side, snuggling deeper into the pillow. His eyes meet Chansung’s and his lips curved into a grin. An annoying, knowing grin that Chansung hates. He means to say something, anything to wipe that stupid grin of the other’s face, but Taecyeon comes closer and their lips meet. Short, sweet, and effective. There’s no use in fighting. No desire to do so either.

v.

With the approaching holidays comes the stress of final exams and Chansung is one study session away from losing his mind. He’s almost there. A semester away from graduating, and a phone call short from a teacher-assistant position with one of the most competent professors he has ever come across. He made it. He’s almost there. Almost.

Tonight though his Friday night is spent serving section B. There’s a family that requires his immediate attention, the gentlemen from table 4 needs more ranch for his buffalo wings, table 6 order their steak well done, not medium rare, and he swears the host is out to get him.

He is exhausted by the end of the night, and after getting his share of the tips and bidding good night to his coworkers he heads home. He can’t help it. He looks around the almost empty parking lot, and finds nothing. Wooyoung is not there. He hasn’t been there for the last few weeks, and Chansung didn’t realize how used to his presence he had gotten until Wooyoung had stopped making the drive every Friday after his last class. Nothing he can do about it. No. That is a lie.

He knows the reason why Wooyoung stopped coming around. He has known it ever since they returned from their trip home. Ever since Taec had gone from being simply a good memory from Chansung’s adolescence, to a constant presence of his daily life. Wooyoung is not around for the same reason that JinWoon doesn’t call anymore. The only difference being that Chansung can’t dismiss Wooyoung as easily as he did JinWoon.

He walks to the nearest bus stop and grabs his phone as he waits. Unconsciously he scrolls down to Wooyoung’s number, and hesitates. Should he be the first to call? It was Wooyoung’s decision to distance himself, did Chansung had the right? If Chansung believe in such a thing as fate, then perhaps he would have taken what happens next as a sign. He’s phone buzzes just as he is about to put it away, and his heart skips a beat. Could it be Woo? Of course not. Is Taecyeon, and he wants to know where exactly Chansung is.

“Why does it matter?” Chansung responds like a petulant child, refusing to give Taecyeon what he wants. He looks up, noticing the bus approaching. Only a few lights away.

I came to pick you up and you weren’t there.

Taecyeon whines, and Chansung laughs.

“You came to pick me up? Really? How if you don’t even know where I work.”

I have my ways.

“Sure you do.” The bus is only a few feet away and Chansung gets up, thinking briefly of the study guide that awaits him when he gets home.

Channie…

Taecyeon whines on the other side of the phone and Chansung smiles. The bus is in front of him now, and he hears the familiar whooshing sound as the doors open.

“What?”

“Are you really going to get on that bus?” The phone line goes dead and Chansung looks to his right. A smile curving the corner of his lips, and it takes a few seconds for his brain to register what is going on.

“Are you getting in?” The bus driver asks, and Chansung shakes his head. “Sorry, I’m not.”

The bus pulls away, and Chansung turns to Taecyeon who is now only a few feet away. “What are you doing here?”

“I want it to see you.” Such a simple answer. One Chansung can’t argue with.

He has the apartment to himself for the night, a message to Seulong confirmed his roommate won’t be getting back until the early hours of the morning. He tells Taecyeon to make himself at home, while he goes and takes a quick shower. Everything that happens after is both overwhelming and puzzling to Chansung. He doesn’t bother putting on clothes, or underwear. A pair of lose basketball shorts the only thing that covers his body as he enters the living room where Taecyeon has been waiting. He figures Taecyeon is here for a reason, and one reason only. So it baffles him when Taecyeon, rather than follow Chansung into the room as per his request, suggest they play some of the video games he has found.

Still, Chansung sees it as stalling and goes along with Taecyeon’s request, but two games of modern warfare later Chansung has had enough, and takes matters into his own hands. He puts the controller aside and moves closer to Taecyeon. His hand rest under Taecyeon’s chin and he tilts the other’s head gently to face him. Up close Taecyeon’s scent overwhelms him, his clothes smell of citrus and fabric softener and his skin has a sly hint of that after shave Chansung likes so much.

He kisses Taecyeon’s jaw first. Working his way to parted lips. Taking  his time as he savors every inch of Taecyeon's lips claiming them for a kiss that leaves them both breathless. The reaction his body has to such kiss is inevitable. The lust that liquefies and mixes with the blood running through his vein takes control of his body and today it won’t stand for games or taking it slow. He tries to get them to his room, but Taecyeon refuses.

"I didn't drive all the way here for just a booty call." Is all he says, and Chansung's monetarily speechless. Taecyeon laces their fingers together, lips brushing against Chansung's. "There's no need to rush."

When Chansung wakes the next morning , he is momentarily disoriented. His eyes focus on the ceiling, as he tries to blink away the sleep from his eyes. His ear picks up the faint sound of the toilet being flush, and he tries to slowly sit up.  Looking around, he realizes this is his room, and as Taecyeon comes into the room, he remembers the previous night events. A smile curves his lips. He can’t help it. He beckons for Taecyeon to come closer and lets his body fall back down on the bed. He doesn’t take his eyes off Taecyeon though.

“Morning.”

“Mnnnn” He mumbles and Taecyeon chuckles. “Should we get something to eat?”

“Breakfast in bed sounds nice.” He buries half his face under the sheets, and he gives Taecyeon a wounded look when he refuses to get back in bed with him. “Is past noon Chan.”

“Then let’s just stay in bed.” For a second he thinks Taecyeon would give in, but then the man hesitates, tugging at the covers. “Don’t you have studying to do?” Shit. He does. But he also has a feeling that there’s something wrong. Taecyeon seems somewhat distant, his eyes never looking straight at Chansung, but at different spots in the room.

“Taec…”

“Um?”

“Everything ok?” He is afraid to ask. Afraid of what the response would be. He doesn’t know why. Is not like he had been expecting anything consistent to come out of this. Is not like he was expecting anything at all… so why did Taecyeon’s sudden change of mood affected him so?

“This room…” Taecyeon begins “You and Wooyoung shared this room together, right?”

Oh.

Oh!

His brain proves useless and coherent words escape him at that moment. Taecyeon wasn’t asking a question. He already knew the answer. He was only looking for confirmation. “That was…”

“Nothing serious?” Taecyeon offers, and Chansung’s eyes fall to his lap. “How you know?”

“Was I not supposed to?”

“That’s not it…” Taecyeon lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes meeting Chansung’s for the first time that morning.

“I knew. Back when you came down for Junho’s dad's funeral, I knew then. Wooyoung told MinJun, and MinJun felt like it was something I should know. Wooyoung is so cruel to that man, it’s almost pitiful.”

“And you made the trip just to tell me that?"

“I did want to see you, is just…”

“So if you knew, why did you bother! Is that why you held back last night? The fuck was that bullshit spill of taking it slow?" It wasn’t his intention to sound like the wounded victim, he didn’t mean to look away from Taecyeon’s piercing glance either, he just wasn’t sure he wanted to hear the words that would come out of Taecyeon’s mouth next.

“I don't know Chan, I'm not sure I know why am here.”

Something inside him breaks at that moment and Chansung is left speechless for a completely different reason. He doesn’t know what to say. What can he say?

“Don’t get me wrong, is not that I wanted to play with you, is just that… It hurt you know? Back then, you and me… we used to have something, I thought we had something. Then you break it off right before we go our separate ways. Something about long distance relationships not working, and we are young and some other bullshit. You didn’t even want to give it a shot. You cut thighs with everyone as well. Yeah school, work, lack of time, and all that bullshit, that was always your excuse. When I found out you and Woo had made contact again, I was happy, and jealous. I thought I would be ok with it, but when I saw you… I don’t know Channie. I don’t know.”

So it was all Chansung’s fault at the end? Is that what he was trying to say? The sad thing is that Chansung couldn’t bring himself to disagree with him.

“So what now?” The question leaves Chansung mouth and the response he gets gives way to a whole other set of questions that he just doesn’t have an answer for.

“I don’t know Chansung. You tell me.”

-->>>>